#yoongi x namjoon

[theharrowing]

Collateral 🗡️ 12: Loose lips sink ships

Your ex-boyfriend gets in over his head working for the local mafia, and Boss Min has come to collect his payment: You.

But was it simply a matter of being in the wrong place at the wrong time? Or has he always had his sights on you?

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

🗡️ Yoongi x Female Reader x Namjoon 🗡️ word count: 11.6k 🗡️ mafia au, strangers to lovers, graphic violence, major character injury, poly, smut, angst, fluff, nsfw, explicit 21+  🗡️ chapter warnings: the return of our favorite gossip girl Felix, graphic descriptions of violence (use of incendiary device to start fire, use of kunai knives and glass to stab & slit throats, use of drugs to force an overdose, smothering), sleep paralysis nightmare, fingering and face-sitting in the garden, joonbug is a real softie, 2seok are up to something. 🗡️ beta read by @neoneunnajimin! <3  🗡️ posted on jan. 2023 | read on ao3 🗡️ note: happy new year, friends! so excited to kick off 2023 with a chapter of my beloved Collateral! this chapter was fun to write, and it is introducing so many things that will be important for the rest of the story. the descriptions of violence in this one are pretty wild, so please be ready!

Light pours into Yoongi's bedroom, and you grumble as you stretch your arms over your head, feeling the final dredges of sleep wash away to wakefulness. The bed is empty, and the light pouring in is still soft with hints of pink, signifying dawn, so you assume that the men had gotten up much earlier and probably will not be back until afternoon. 

Feeling hunger pangs in the pit of your stomach, you grumble and concede to getting out of the warmth of the giant, lonely bed, to make your way into the kitchen for something to eat. Perhaps Felix or Changbin will be around to join you—though you still feel put off by the latter's behavior the last time you saw him, you would still welcome his company.

As you push the heavy door open, making your way out into the balcony, you find two bodies sitting on the bench outside your bedroom door. However, neither are the men you expected. 

Seokjin sits tall in a burgundy three-piece suit with one leg crossed over the other, holding his phone as if he is watching something on the screen. Beside him, Hoseok is dressed in his standard black garb with his head on Seokjin's shoulder, smiling at whatever he is looking at. Suddenly, you feel exposed walking out in only one of Namjoon's oversized black shirts and panties, and you take a step back to rethink your attire and consider putting on some of Yoongi's sweatpants. 

However, before you can make it back into the safety of the master bedroom, Seokjin looks up and, with a grin, clicks his phone off and keeps his attention on you. 

"Well, well," he mutters, "if it isn't the wolf cub we were hoping to see."

You rock on your heels, still deciding whether or not to excuse yourself into Yoongi's room, but Hoseok sits up straight, and Seokjin stands, both with their eyes fixed on you. 

"Come," Seokjin says, slipping his phone into his front pocket while holding out his free hand. "I have something I would like to discuss with you."

"Oh," you mutter, reluctantly stepping forward and padding over to the men. "Okay."

"Before we begin," Seokjin says, moving into your personal space and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. Seokjin wears an expensive-smelling cologne—woody and musky with fruity and floral notes; more feminine than you would expect. "This proposition I have for you...it has to stay between us."

"What do you mean?" you mutter as Hoseok stands before you with a pointed stare. 

"We have devised a plan to spy on the rival family," Seokjin says.

"Yoongi's ex," Hoseok adds, though you already know. 

"But in order for this plan to work, Yoongi mustn't know."

You hum, already feeling trepidation over doing something behind Yoongi's back that involves mafia activity. Especially considering the Shin family is all the way in Busan; how would they suppose you can spy on them?

"We have a little bird on the inside," Hoseok continues, "but he is afraid to get too close."

"We were thinking," Seokjin says, "that if we could get you into her home, you would be able to get a lot more information."

You shake your head. Into her home? Absolutely not. Not to mention—

"How would we get me into her home without him knowing?"

"Deception on both sides, of course," Seokjin answers as if it is nothing. "Yoongi gets word that you are feeling suffocated and cooped up, and you need to take a vacation. I offer to set everything up—as I am wont to do—and we send you to Busan."

"And Ryujin?" you ask incredulously. "She has already seen my face. How would we get me into her house?"

Hoseok shrugs. "Someone leaks information that you are being abused and need somewhere safe to hide from the Min family. She's a softie; she'll take you."

The thought of framing Yoongi as abusive to win his ex's favor settles like a brick in the pit of your stomach, and you tense in Seokjin's hold, clenching and relaxing your fists at your sides. In an attempt to play it off, you shrug and scoff, rolling your eyes as you glance from Hoseok to Seokjin.

"A softie? She sent men to beat your boxer to death, and to attack Jimin. I would hardly call her a softie."

"Compared to what your hubby does," Hoseok snarls playfully, "that's nothing."

A shiver runs through you at the word hubby. Something about it stirs your insides in all the worst possible ways. Setting that aside, the plan seems foolish. How long do they expect you to feign being on vacation? Getting to know someone well enough to spy on them is something you imagine would take months, if not a year, at least.

"This plan is terrible," you respond, turning away from Seokjin and letting his arm fall away from your shoulder. "I can't imagine I will be able to gather as much intel on her in the timespan of...whatever a getaway is."

Hoseok shrugs. "So we tell him you're on sabbatical."

"It won't work," you insist. "Yoongi is far too clingy for that."

Seokjin hums, and you turn to find him studying you with squinted eyes.

"If I revise the plan and make it more believable, would you reconsider?"

There is a part of you that wants to say yes, if only as payback for what they did to Jimin. But there is no way someone as possessive as Yoongi would let you leave. And even if he were foolish enough not to see through the lie, you doubt that Namjoon would be.

"If it is actually a believable plan then yes, I will reconsider."  

Both men smile, and Seokjin reaches to pat you on the shoulder. He shares a knowing glance and says, "Loose lips sink ships," before turning to walk down the stairs. 

"See you soon, little cub," Hoseok sing-songs, following close behind. 

You sit on the bench outside your bedroom door, feeling the soft upholstery on your thighs, and wait for them to get enough of a head start before making your way to the kitchen. Part of you hopes that Yoongi has been around all along, rendering the whole conversation moot so you can all move on and forget about it altogether. But, when you finally do make your way downstairs, toward the kitchen, the main hall is empty, and the mansion is quiet. 

After a small breakfast of cereal and fruit, you walk into the main hall to find Felix at the entrance, kicking off his shoes. You fail to hold back a squeal as you run through the hall, and Felix looks up with a wide smile, holding his arms wide to catch you.

"Hello," Felix beams in his deep voice, Australian accent adding unnecessary consonants—something you have missed dearly.

"Poolside!" you shout as you step out of the hug. "Champagne and catching up! Don't say no!"

"I wouldn't dream of saying no," Felix responds, rubbing a palm over the top of your head as if you are a child. To his credit, you are still running around in nothing but a giant t-shirt and underwear, which seems like something a child might do.

With a mock-offended groan, you swat Felix's hand away and turn, running for the stairs. Although Felix follows behind, his footsteps are much slower, taking his time. You slam your bedroom door open and jet into the closet, tugging Namjoon's shirt off as soon as you are safe around the corner of the walk-in, and fling open a drawer that contains bathing suits.

Grabbing a black two-piece, you hardly give it a glance as you hop out of your panties and into the suit, then you yank the first baby blue sun dress you see from its hanger and unceremoniously pull it over your head, spinning it several times around your neck before your arms line up with the correct holes. 

Felix appears in the doorway in swim shorts and a tee.

"I wore the trunks here knowing you would wanna swim," he says as you pad over.

"Of course you did," you mutter in response, delighted by how predictable you are, and the two of you bound down the stairs. 

The moment you step outside, the bartender approaches, and you wonder if the poor guy ever takes time off—what must his hours be like? At least he has the wherewithal to leave the open bottle behind right away, saving himself a trip. It only takes two glasses of bubbly before your lips are too loose for your own good—ignoring Seokjin's earlier advice.

"Is the mansion bugged?" you ask as you hold your champagne flute to your lips.

Felix's eyes widen, and he stares unblinkingly for several seconds. "Why do you ask?"

With a shrug, you mutter, "Just curious."

"Are you having conversations you don't want master Yoongi to hear?"

With a scoff, you shake your head and mutter, "Please do not call him that," making Felix laugh. 

"On the contrary," you continue, "I may have overheard a conversation that I wonder if he should know about."

You do not want to divulge what Seokjin and Hoseok said to you up on the second-floor balcony, and attempt to separate yourself from the conversation. All good lies come from a place of truth, after all. 

"But you don't want to snitch," Felix suggests with a grin.

"Of course."

"Because snitches get stitches."

You chuckle as you say, "So I have heard," then you gulp back the rest of your champagne. Felix finishes his, as well, and takes your glass to refill it.

"No," he continues as he pours, "the mansion is not bugged, save for the dining halls, I believe—rooms where meetings with outsiders may take place. But, as far as I know, those systems are only switched on when needed."

You nod and accept your full glass, taking a sip.

"Yoongi trusts his men implicitly. So if the conversation you overheard was between two of them, then you may want to sow some seeds of discontent, making Yoongi investigate on his own. Or record any future conversations they may have."

"Do any of the family men need Yoongi's approval to enter the mansion when he's not here?” you ask, eager to sway the conversation. 

Felix shakes his head. “The family men have twenty-four-hour access. And the retina scanner pings Yoongi’s phone so he always knows who is coming in and going out.”

“I suppose you also have access, since your room is upstairs.”

Felix blinks at you several times as if confused, then chuckles and shakes his head.

“We only occupy that room when Yoongi wants constant watch over someone. Changbin and I live elsewhere, on a nearby property.”

“Oh,” you mutter. That explains why you have not seen either of them in a while. 

“And we do not have constant access. Yoongi sends us a code for the door that changes daily, so we can only come in on days when he wants us to.”

You suppose you should not be too surprised that Yoongi is paranoid even of his security staff. He is, after all, more powerful than even you still realize, but something about it is a bit unsettling…though, what that something is, is hard to put your finger on. You decide, instead, to sway the conversation a bit.

"And the parties that used to take place out here? Which have all but stopped."

"Mostly Jeongguk and Taehyung's doing, as far as I know," Felix responds. "But ever since the whole ecstasy fiasco, they stopped letting people over. And with Jeongguk getting stabbed..."

Felix trails off, and you find yourself biting back a smirk. It is, of course, not funny that Jeongguk got stabbed, but whenever you remember a very exasperated Seokjin carrying him over his shoulder while Jeongguk was high out of his mind, you cannot help but feel amused. He is fine, after all.

"What...was all that about?" you ask, wondering if Felix can even tell you. "Namjoon and I met up with Changkyun once to beat some information out of a couple of guys, but I haven’t heard Namjoon or Yoongi mention it since.”

The surprise in Felix's voice takes you off guard. "Yoongi never told you?"

You shake your head and shrug. "No, but, to be fair, I never asked. And we have had other things come up, I suppose."

After a pause, Felix asks, "Are you sure you wanna know?"

You nod, wide-eyed and eager, and you must really look silly because Felix chuckles and shakes his head.

"The whole thing feels like a scene from a movie, honestly; it was so weird hearing about it that I almost didn't believe it was real. Even while I watched it, myself, it felt too insane."

Anticipation hangs, and you watch as Felix stares at you with a grin. You kick his shin and urge him to continue.

 "Alright, alright," he says. "But it gets pretty...gruesome at times. So stop me if you need to."

"I'm a big girl," you tease, "I can handle myself."

"Yeah?" Felix challenges with a raise of his eyebrows. "Do you know how many men Jeongguk killed that night?"

Until this very moment, you were unaware that Jeongguk had killed anyone that night. You shake your head as your eyebrows knit—the concern written on your face only seeming to delight your friend all the more.

"Fifteen," Felix says slowly, drawing out each syllable.

"Fif—what?"

With an eager nod, Felix takes a gulp of his champagne and begins. "Apparently he had these ecstasy pills that were laced with meth, and he popped two of them, drank down a bunch of whiskey, snorted a pile of cocaine and just went ape shit on a room full of men who were linked to the one guy who ripped him off."

Your mouth hangs around words like who and what and how but nothing comes out. 

"I watched the security footage, so everything I am about to tell you is the truth. And you need to believe me when I say it is the craziest shit I have ever seen. At one point, Jeongguk reached into his shirt and pulled out a kunai knife that he twirled on the end of his finger. And over the course of the fight, he pulled out several more, so I don't know if he had like a bandolier of them strapped to his chest, or something."

"Kunai?" you ask in disbelief, and when Felix nods, you add, "Like, from Naruto?"

This makes Felix double over, spilling some of the champagne from his glass.

"Yes!" he shouts as his head hangs between his knees. "Like from Naruto!"

The idea is so funny that you join Felix in laughter; you know that kunai is a real weapon, but you have never actually seen them used outside of television. Of course, the fact that Jeongguk used these knives to at least kill some of the fifteen men is hardly funny, but the visual is just ridiculous. What kind of person is Jeongguk? This is a question you find yourself thinking about often. What goes on inside his head?

"Okay," Felix says, sitting up with tears in his eyes. "I will spare you all of the gory details, but basically, Jeongguk orchestrated a gathering of these fifteen men—including the one who had stolen from him, Jae."

The name Jae rings a bell from when you accompanied Namjoon to beat those two men with a baton. 

"They were at some dingy bar that Jeongguk owns, and Jeongguk showed up, told the outside door guard not to let anyone out, and bid the bartender farewell. Then, he hopped over the counter and began constructing a molotov cocktail."

Already, this sounds like a fever dream, and you take a gulp of champagne, feeling tipsiness begin to swirl in your chest and head. 

"So," you inquire with a raise of an eyebrow, "he grabbed a bottle of..."

"Vodka."

"Right, of course," you respond, biting back a grin. "Then he shoved a rag into it and what? Lit it on fire?"

"Exactly."

"Wh—" You begin to wonder who in real life, in their right mind, even thinks to do that. But then you remember that Jeongguk was most certainly not in his right mind. 

"Then, he hopped up onto the bar with the incendiary and chucked it over the crowd of men so that it smashed against the ceiling, raining fire down on them."

Again, you attempt to ask questions that never form, only finding yourself able to mutter, "That...sounds fake."

"It was honestly incredible," Felix beams, perhaps a little too excitedly. "Fire rained down on these men and they began to panic. Only one man caught fire to the point of needing to stop, drop, and roll, but the commotion it created was precisely the type of chaos that someone like Jeongguk feeds off of.”

You imagine men running around frantically as their hair and clothing burn, and although the imagery is cartoonish in your mind, the idea makes your stomach churn. 

“Jeongguk managed to isolate the Jae guy and restrain him to a pipe,” Felix continues. “It’s an older brick building, kind of industrial, with some of the pipes coming out of the walls and snaking back in, and I believe Jeongguk used handcuffs to restrain his wrist. Then, he went to town on the other fourteen while Jae watched.”

“What do you mean by he ‘went to town’ on them?”

“With the kunai,” Felix responds as if it is obvious, then he screws up his face in thought. “Mostly by stabbing the tips into the men’s necks, or slicing their throats open. A couple men attacked with punches, and he would use one blade to punch into their arms, blocking their swings, while advancing with the other kunai into this jugular. Some got headbutted before throat-gauged. It was a mess. At one point, there was so much blood on the floor, and vodka from the Molotov, that a guy slipped and broke his head open on all the broken glass.”

Suddenly, you do not think you want to know how the situation escalated so much that Jeongguk got stabbed. Though, considering he was outnumbered and the floor was covered in broken glass, you can wager a guess. 

“One of the details I overheard Taehyung tell was that in his pocket, Jeongguk had a bloodstained mouth guard. Imagine that sight. Jeon Jeongguk, high out of his fucking mind, covered in blood and sweat, wielding kunai knives with this wide, plastic grin. Maniacal.”

“And he only got stabbed once?” you ask incredulously as you remember all the substances in his system while he fought all these men. 

“Twice, technically, but from the same guy. He most likely got cocky. He was facing Jae—saying his final words, I assumed, judging by how he stood—and a guy who must have been playing dead before gathered two large pieces of glass and first tried stabbing him in the guts under his ribs, but only really managed to get him between the shoulder blades.”

“And, let me guess,” you deadpan, “he got a kunai to the throat?”

“Two to the stomach, I believe. He was already bleeding pretty badly, though from where, it was hard to tell.”

“And I assume Seokjin found him somehow and brought him home?”

Felix nods.

“Luckily, Jeongguk had the wherewithal to call Seokjin before it all went down and tell him he would need a ride home. Unfortunately for Seokjin, however, Jeongguk failed to mention he had driven his bike into town.”

A scoff rocks through your chest as you try to imagine Jeon Jeongguk—dressed head to toe in his standard mobster black attire with his pupils dilated into black disks—riding a bicycle like a carefree child. 

“And this bike,” you inquire, failing to hold back a smile, “what does it look like?”

Felix beams. “Oh, it’s the cutest thing! Mint green with a little brown basket on the handles.”

“You’re lying,” you mutter in disbelief. 

Felix shakes his head. “It has a bell and everything! He pulls up to the house and brrring brrrings it with a shit-eating grin.”

Now that is something you would pay to see. 

“Wait, so Seokjin brought him back here on a bicycle?”

With a hum, Felix says, “He must have a luggage rack over the back wheel, because Seokjin complained about him sitting behind him, leaning hard into his back while his feet kept slipping from the pegs and bumping into the tires.”

“Wow.”

“Yeah.”

“Good thing I befriended Jimin and not Jeongguk,” you mutter. 

With a knowing grin, Felix leans forward and says, “According to a little bird, Jimin recently orchestrated a murder, too.”

“You’re lying,” you gasp as you chug back the rest of your champagne and begin to refill your glass. 

Felix shakes his head and holds his empty glass for a refill, as well. “Well, I think technically, Seokjin finished the job. Jimin is by far the biggest softie of the group.”

"And the least soft one is Jeongguk, I presume?" you mutter jokingly.

Felix's eyes widen, and he says, "That would be Taehyung."

You cock your head to the side, pointing an ear in his direction, as if you may have misheard. "Taehyung?"

A grin tugs at Felix's lips, sending a shiver down your spine.

"Taehyung didn't become a doctor because he likes to help people. He became a doctor because the human body fascinates him, and he enjoys ripping them open. He just happens to be very good at taking care of the select few men he has no desire to rip open. Evidently, the man has a stare so deadly, it makes even Jeongguk cower. But this is all conjecture; we do not dare talk about Taehyung's personal life unless he tells us something directly."

“This is too much information,” you grumble as you top off Felix’s glass and set the empty bottle onto the small table between the heads of your poolside beds.

You definitely want to know more about this situation with Jimin, but after Jeongguk’s murder party, you have heard enough; you cannot even begin to fathom what goes on behind Taehyung's closed door. Instead, you store the information away for later, chug the remaining champagne, and then ask Felix if he would like to swim. 

You must have fallen asleep poolside after returning to the padded bed, feeling a little too drunk and quite a bit tired. The last thing you remember is Felix continuing to swim and convincing the bartender to strip down to his briefs and join him. 

Although your eyes are open, everything poolside seems strange. It feels muted and still, and although you can hear the gentle sloshing of the water and several distant male voices, you are unable to detect any movement. Like an abandoned movie set, closed up, and left for the night. 

A shadow looms over you, and you wonder at first, if you are imagining it. It looks huge—great enough to fully engulf and crush you if it wanted to. You attempt to close your eyes or look away, but you are stuck, paralyzed as the shadow hovers closer and closer. In the recess of your subconscious, you recognize that you are still dreaming and that you need to wake up.

Although you open your mouth to scream, nothing comes out. You thrash and claw at the cushion below, but it is useless as the shadow creeps closer and closer. It does not even touch you—does not have to—yet it pushes the air from your lungs until they burn, desperate for oxygen.

Warm hands touch your shoulders, and you hear a familiar voice. 

"Hey, sweetheart? Are you having a nightmare?"

Namjoon—an anchor in a storm—gently pulls you from hell, and you sit up, eyes wide and pouring tears as you gasp for breath. The sun is still up, and although you are in the shade, everything is incredibly bright, causing you to squint. You feel dehydrated—mouth dry with a headache blooming in your temples. A product from day drinking in the heat. 

"Fuck," you mutter under your breath, overwhelmed and out of sorts. "How long have I been out here?"

Across the pool, Felix is asleep under one of the awnings, curled up like a child and gripping onto a bottle of champagne. You cannot help but snicker. 

"Long enough," Namjoon responds sweetly as he sweeps hair off your seat-sticky face and leans in to place a kiss on your cheek. "Are you hungry? We were thinking about grabbing dinner after a shower."

You do not have to ask who we is, though you do wonder where the other half may be.

With a smile, you nod and mutter, "Sounds perfect."

Namjoon stands and twists, then scoops you up, carrying you into the house. Your sundress is still discarded on the end of the pool bed, but you decide not to bother with it at the moment and curl against Namjoon's chest, breathing him in. 

"Did you have a good day?" Namjoon asks, deep voice vibrating from his chest to yours.

"I did until the nightmare," you admit sheepishly. 

"Wanna talk about it?"

Concern laces Namjoon's voice, making you feel so giddy, you bury your face into his neck and shake your head.

"Just sleep paralysis."

"Glad I came to find you at just the right moment, then."

Gently, slowly, you press a kiss into Namjoon's skin. Then two. Then three.

"Me too."

Upstairs, you enter Yoongi's room to find his shower is already running. Namjoon takes you straight into the en suite and sets you down beside the sink, then turns to the linen closet to grab more towels. You begin to strip from your bathing suit and tiptoe toward the shower. It feels like ages since you have seen Yoongi—even though you fell asleep in his bed last night—and you want to surprise him.

Namjoon, however, stops you with a firm hand around your bicep.

"Hey Yoon," he announces loudly. "We're here to join you."

"Perfect," Yoongi grumbles, voice sounding uncharacteristically low. 

"Best not to surprise a mob boss," Namjoon mutters into your ear, giving you chills. "Even a shampoo bottle can become a weapon."

You clear your throat and nod, forcing a smile. Suddenly, you feel apprehensive to find what kind of mood awaits you. However, when Namjoon steps ahead and pulls the shower doors open, you find Yoongi standing below a stream of water with his head back, rinsing off with a small smile on his lips. Suds fall from his nearly jet-black hair, running down past taut muscle, deep scars, and pretty pale skin. 

Yoongi straightens out and rubs the water from his eyes, then fixes you with a soft, happy smile.

"Darling, come," he says with his hands outstretched, and you realize you had been standing and staring from the doorway the entire time. 

Namjoon makes his way past Yoongi, grabs a rag, and lathers it with liquid soap. You enter slowly, closing the door behind you, and let your eyes flit between Namjoon and Yoongi, feeling the dizzy, shitty sleepiness from napping after day drinking as you approach Yoongi and let him pull you into a hug under the warm stream of water. 

"I only saw you this morning, yet I missed you all day," Yoongi mutters softly against the side of your head.

You chuckle and hug him tight, letting water pool in the space between your cheek and his chest. 

"I was asleep," you tease, and Yoongi responds with a soft, "And looking so precious all bundled up."

Seokjin's proposition from this morning comes back and sends a chill through you. The thought of deceiving Yoongi and leaving him feels impossible, and you decide that even if he does come back with a convincing lie, you will turn him down again. And again, and again, as much as it takes.

"I always miss you," you admit quietly.

Yoongi kisses your temple and pulls from the hug, so you drop your arms to your sides and glance up at him, taking in his sullen expression. Even with his lips tugged into a smile, you can see sadness in his eyes, and you reach up to stroke his cheek and neck.

"Everything alright?" you ask softly.

You do not miss how Yoongi's gaze flicks to Namjoon before he glances back at you and gives a smaller, less convincing smile.

"Everything is not alright, but we are working on it."

Dread pools in your tummy, and you swallow a lump that's suddenly formed in your throat.

"Oh."

"Nothing you need to worry too much about," Namjoon says as he begins gently rubbing a sudsy cloth over your back and arms. "Jeongguk and Jimin made a couple of messes that we have to...clean up."

Your conversation with Felix returns, and you nibble on your bottom lip.

"I may have heard something about that."

"Did Felix tell you?" Yoongi asks, voice stern but steady. You worry that perhaps Felix was not supposed to tell you and that he might get in trouble, but as you nod, Yoongi's expression softens. "I was hoping he might. It probably came out a lot more playfully than if one of us explained it. And, although Jeongguk's mess is not yours to worry about, it does affect what happens under this roof, so you have a right to know."

"And Jimin?" you ask before you can stop yourself. 

Namjoon washes your legs and taps each ankle so you can lift your feet one after another, making this conversation feel so out of place during such a domestic moment.

With a sigh, Yoongi's gaze falls.

"Jimin found out the man he was dating was sent here by Ryujin to spy on us. Allegedly, according to Jimin, Jiyong said that he stopped performing his duty when he and Jimin got serious, which caused Ryujin to send someone to shake Jiyong down, but rather than following his order, he ended up booking Jimin at Paradise and attacking him. You saw the aftermath of that."

"Jesus," you mutter under your breath. Your heart aches for Jimin—for how he must have felt to find out the man he may have loved was working for the enemy.

"So, Jimin drugged him with the intention of killing him, but he called in reinforcements when it didn't go according to plan."

"Seokjin," you mutter, remembering the smug way he regarded you this morning.

"Gotta hand it to Jimin," Namjoon says as he turns your body to face him and rubs the cloth over your chest and stomach, "his plan was extremely tidy. Mixing triazolam and codeine into cocaine with the intention of forcing an overdose is some black widow shit. I would have just left a bullet in his skull."

The thought of Namjoon shooting a man in the head makes your blood turn cold, and you wrap your arms around your chest.

"What did Seokjin do when he arrived?"

"Smothered him with a pillow," Yoongi answers simply, and your eyes fall to the tile floor. You feel bad for Jimin, who must have been pretty heartbroken to be unable to complete the task without help. 

"The men Jeongguk killed are more or less nobodies," Namjoon adds as if to assuage the tension that suddenly hangs. "Only one of them has a family who might come looking, so Yoongi is going to make them an offer and pay them off."

Yoongi adds, "Jimin and Seokjin's target is a little less of a ghost. When word travels back that he was killed by our men, Ryujin may retaliate, so we need to prepare for that. And find out if any of the people who Jimin met through Jiyong can also be bought."

"Sounds complicated," you mutter as Namjoon approaches the line of bottles and squirts more liquid onto the cloth to clean himself.

"It's not, really," Yoongi says. "Men care more about money than pretty much anything else. But, this will take me away for a day or two. I want to meet with everyone as soon as I can, while making a bit of a loop through the city to find out whether anyone may be trying to tail me. Gonna stay at one of my hotels and pretend to lay low." 

"Oh," you mutter, turning your gaze from the spot on the wall that you had spaced onto, to Yoongi. "When?"

"According to the terror twins, the brother of the man Jeongguk killed has accepted an invitation to House of Cards tonight at 11 PM. If all goes well, I should be back tomorrow night."

"The terror twins?" you ask, glancing between Yoongi and Namjoon, who both crack a smile.

"It's what we lovingly call Taehyung and Jeongguk," Yoongi says, and Namjoon adds, "Behind their backs only."

You suppose that after everything Felix has told you, the name makes sense. Overwhelmed by the thought that Yoongi could be putting himself in danger by meeting with these people, you wrap your arms around him, pulling an oof from his lips as you slam his chest into yours.

"Darling, I'll be fine," Yoongi assures you as he lifts his arms and gently drapes them over your shoulders. "Namjoon will be here with you. I'm sure that with all the attention he is willing to give you, you will forget that I am even away."

Petulance overtakes you at Yoongi's candor, and you release the hug, giving his chest a playful shove as you pout, "Not funny."

"Alright, no rough-housing in the shower," Namjoon says as he takes you gently by the arms and pulls you into a stream of water to rinse off all the soap that he has so kindly covered you in. 

"Let's unwind with takeout and a drink before I go?" Yoongi offers once Namjoon has finished washing himself. You find Yoongi fixing you with a devious grin, and you feel the last of your frustrations melt away.

"Fine," you concede, pouting once more, though less convincingly.

Namjoon is the first to exit, and he dries off, wrapping the towel around his hips, then he grabs a second towel and holds it open for you to step in, draping it around you with a kiss to your forehead. He does the same for Yoongi, and you watch in awe as Yoongi momentarily melts in his hold, then searches for you with a smile.

With several hours to spare, you return to the bedroom, to the large couch while Yoongi and Namjoon exit the room for several long minutes. They return with a bottle of white wine but no glasses, and you pass the bottle around and enjoy slow, sloppy makeout sessions with both men until a pile of Chinese takeout is delivered to the room by a very drunk, very sleepy Felix.

By the time Yoongi has to get dressed and leave, you are back to feeling tired, and you curl against Namjoon's naked chest, doing your best to avoid the erection beneath his towel. Perhaps later, when it is just the two of you, you will work him up again just to help him out.

"Feel free to have fun without me," Yoongi groans against your lips as he pulls you to your feet and kisses you goodbye.

Rather than respond to his invitation, you lean in for a kiss, suddenly feeling overwhelmed with worry.

"Please be safe. Come home in one piece."

Yoongi smiles against your lips.

"I will, darling. I promise."

Namjoon walks Yoongi out, muttering to him while thumbing through his cell phone, and you hang back and pad over to Yoongi's closet for some clothing as a shiver runs through you. Although you are certain that Yoongi has gone on missions that are far more dangerous, you fear for the worst. 

The conversation that you, Yoongi, and Namjoon had about love has been playing on repeat, thawing a part of your heart in a way that you never expected it could, and it serves only to ramp up your anxiety. You grab an oversized tee from the section of the closet that Namjoon has begun filling with his own clothing, and a pair of sweatpants from Yoongi's side, slipping into each garment before making your way back to the far side of the bedroom. 

When it is the three of you, the size and shape of the dark blue sofa is welcoming—an invitation. But alone, you feel small and uncertain, and you bring your knees to your chest to sit in a ball and move your fingertips along the soft blue fabric while you wait for Namjoon to return.

It does not take long, and when he steps into the room and closes the large doors behind him with a smile on his face, you relax and allow your lips to tug into a gentle smile of your own. You twist and sit high on your knees, resting your arms over the back of the couch as Namjoon approaches.

"Oh, sweetheart," Namjoon drawls, "don't look so worried. Yoongi is in good hands." With a playful raise of his eyebrow, he sits beside you and adds, "And so are you."

"I know," you respond softly, suddenly embarrassed by the surge of emotion that feels almost overwhelming and difficult to parse. 

"What would you like to do in the meantime? We can eat some more, watch a movie, go to bed early...I think we have a stash of Jeongguk's molly if you wanna get real weird."

You let out a boisterous laugh, feeling the mood lighten.

"I think I'm good not dipping into Jeongguk's ecstasy stash after the story Felix told me."

Namjoon laughs and shakes his head.

"That shit Jeongguk had sucks. It came from America, laced with meth. The stuff we actually put on the streets and do ourselves is pure, not laced with anything. Just a clean, euphoric high."

That actually does sound nice, and you imagine how adorable Yoongi and Namjoon would be while rolling.

"Maybe when Yoongi is back," you concede.

Namjoon chuckles as he says, "Deal."

"A movie might be nice. I haven't seen anything in ages."

Namjoon reaches for a remote that sits on the small table and turns on the large television that must have been installed on the wall at some point while you were passed out poolside. Every streaming service you can imagine—and some you have never heard of—come up, and you watch as Namjoon scrolls through and chooses one, then surveys the options.

When you finally settle on a film that came out earlier in the year, that Namjoon seems excited to watch, you curl up to his side, suddenly feeling the weight of everything dragging you down. Perhaps you should have opted to sleep, instead. 

Namjoon fiddles with some controls that are nestled between the various cushions, causing both your and his sections to recline, with the bottom of the couch becoming an elevated footrest. 

"Is this good?" Namjoon asks with his lips pressed to your temple, adjusting to wrap his arms around you. "Do you mind if I stay here and watch the movie?"

"'S nice," you mutter against his naked chest—he still wears only a towel. 

Draped over the back of the couch is a soft, tan blanket, and Namjoon grunts quietly as he twists and yanks, making his best effort to grab it without jostling you around too much. Your lips tug into a lazy smile as you wrap an arm and leg over him while he covers the two of you and pulls you close. You do not make it past the opening scene before you are sound asleep.

Briefly, you wake to the feeling of Namjoon slipping out from under you and removing the blanket. You groan from the sudden cold, and from being pulled from your slumber, as Namjoon scoops you up and carries you to bed. The sheet and blanket are cold beneath you as he sets you down on your back, and you roll in toward the center, curling into a fetal position as the mattress dips behind you and Namjoon's warm, strong arm wraps around your waist, cradling your back against his chest. 

"Sleep sweet, beautiful," Namjoon mutters into your nape. 

"You too," you grumble, drifting back into the dark, warm heaviness of sleep.

You are not sure if you imagine Namjoon whispering he loves you or if he really does, but you think you might say it in response if you were more awake. You think that, perhaps, you could come to mean it the way he wants you to—the way you think you would like to.

"Yoongi expects to return sometime tonight," Namjoon reports as he steps out from the bathroom with his toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, wearing a plain white tee and black basketball shorts. 

You nod and use the palms of your hands to rub the sleep from your eyes, then stretch with a long, deep yawn. Sunlight fills the room, dappled by dark blue curtains, and you let your hands fall to the mattress, to your sides, as you adjust to being awake. 

"Alright," you mutter in response as Namjoon leaves the room to rinse his mouth. The sink runs for a moment, and you hear him swish and spit, then shut the faucet off. 

"I was thinking maybe we could walk around the gardens today?" Namjoon offers as he returns.

He grins as he climbs onto the end of the bed on his hands and knees and begins to crawl to you, and you cannot help but smile back with affection blooming and bursting behind your ribs.

"That sounds nice," you respond as Namjoon places his arms on either side of you, hovering close and caging you in. He nuzzles his nose against your neck, and you giggle, attempting to push him away with one hand to his shoulder, groaning, "Why are you like this?"

Namjoon chuckles—voice as deep as the ocean—and you lift your shoulder to your chin, attempting to stop his breath and lips from tickling your skin, which breaks out in goosebumps. 

"I like you," Namjoon responds playfully, nestling his face deeper into the crook of your neck.

Every nerve is on fire, and you feel jumpy from the sensation. You begin to swat and shove at Namjoon, leaning back, uselessly.

A giggle rocks through you as you complain, "It tickles, you jerk." 

Namjoon only presses further, and when you fall back against the pillows with a huff, he hovers over you with a devastating smile before leaning down to slot his lips against yours. Once more, you begin to swat at him. 

"I have morning breath," you attempt to say with your lips sealed as tightly as possible.

With a wide, mischievous smile, Namjoon licks a long stripe across your lips, leaving a minty scent in its wake.

"Have some of my mouthwash."

You squeal and attempt to shake your head from side to side as he licks over your lips once more, in the other direction. 

"You're a monster!" you shout, giving him one more shove with both hands. 

Namjoon collapses beside you with laughter, leaving you to lie dazed, staring at the ceiling ahead with your lips covered in minty spit. In a last-ditch effort to have any control, you swing your arm to the side, smacking Namjoon square in the chest with your palm while you mutter, "What is wrong with you."

Your hand is caught between both of his before you can pull it back, and Namjoon yanks you gently until you comply and roll toward him to settle with your head against his chest. 

"You love it," Namjoon grumbles, a vibration you can feel better than you can hear.

You hum in response and close your eyes. Namjoon smells like a fresh bouquet on a spring morning, and you breathe his scent deeply with a smile, muttering, "I guess so," while nuzzling your cheek against his pec.

"Shall we get up and have breakfast?" Namjoon asks with a gentle squeeze of his arms around your middle and a kiss to the top of your head.

"Soon. Wanna stay this way for a little while longer."

"Alright," Namjoon responds, wiggling slightly as if to get comfortable. "We can stay this way for as long as you would like."

A dangerous proposition, you think, as you consider the pros and cons of never getting out of bed again. 

Breakfast consists of omelets that Namjoon nearly burns. Despite his efforts, it comes out delicious, and you beam from across the kitchen counter at the blush that reddens his cheeks while you take another bite. 

"It is hard to reconcile you being this domestic while also being the guy that beat those two men with a metal baton," you mutter with a mouth full of food.

Namjoon smirks, but something dark, possibly sad, flashes over his eyes.

"I've done much worse than that."

You hum and nod; you suppose he has, but you are not so sure you feel like asking what he means, exactly. 

"Does it bother you?" Namjoon asks, sounding somewhat apprehensive.

With a shrug, you say, "I'm adjusting," then take a drink from the large glass of orange juice shared between you. "On one hand, I'm used to the lifestyle. Growing up on the streets, watching people die, finding bodies....killing a man."

The memory sends a chill through you, and you take a deep breath, then continue.

"I thought that I could escape it and make an attempt at a normal life—date a normal dude and all that. But it seems that I was always going to return. Perhaps I was never as far away from it all as I thought I was."

When you lift your gaze to Namjoon, his eyes are on his food, but he does not move to eat.

"Yoongi would have wanted you no matter what," he mutters.

All you can bring yourself to say is a soft, "Yeah."

It is a thought that has haunted you for some time. 

No matter how far you would have run, Yoongi would have brought you back to him, if that was his goal all along. If you allow it to, the thought will easily consume you—make you feel suffocated and at a total loss of control. But, as you come to settle into his home and get to know his family men better, you find yourself becoming more at peace with it, as long as you do not allow yourself to overthink.

Better this than living on the streets. And if Yoongi really does come to love you the way he says he would like to, then you will be protected. At least, you allow yourself to believe that there will not be a permanent crosshairs attached to your back—you allow yourself to sleep at night with the belief that his men will keep the two of you safe. 

The rest of breakfast is eaten in silence, and Namjoon excuses himself to answer a phone call as you finish up. You decide to clean, taking your time washing and rinsing the handful of dishes the two of you used and placing them in the large metal drying rack. 

When Namjoon returns, he seems distracted, but he takes your hand and guides you to the pile of shoes by the front door where the two of you slip into some sneakers, then you walk down the narrow hallway, to the large glass doors that lead out to the garden entrance.

You walk much the same path that you had taken with Felix during your second or third day at the mansion, but it is nice to see everything once again. The statues and fountains feel alive against the backdrop of the clear blue afternoon sky, and birds flit around overhead.

Although the weather is warm, you are glad that you chose to wear a sweater and sweatpants from Yoongi's closet, feeling a slight chill to the air and wanting comfort. Namjoon is in blue jeans, a white tee, and a soft brown cardigan, looking perfectly huggable and not at all like the mobster you know him to be. 

"I don't know why I don't come out here more often," you mutter with a sigh.

"Yeah," Namjoon responds. "I used to come out here a lot more, but lately, I haven't found the time."

"Is your home nearby?" you ask, turning to watch Namjoon, who looks to the east, nodding his chin.

"Just over the fence, in the next house over."

A smirk tugs at your lips. "Never too far away."

Namjoon tongues the inside of his mouth and smiles widely for the first time since breakfast.

"Indeed."

"And the others?"

Namjoon points as he explains.

"Taehyung lives behind this garden, and Jimin is just past my house, in between the two. On the opposite side is Seokjin and Hoseok's house, and just past them is Jeongguk. There are small roads that lead to each property so you don't have to exit the gates and use the main road, and they all lead directly to Taehyung."

"Makes sense," you respond, imagining that the doctor would need to be easily accessed. 

Gently, Namjoon takes your chin in one hand and strokes his thumb over your lip.

"You're welcome to come to my home any time, you know. I can show you the path that leads there." 

You tilt your head down slightly, parting your lips to take Namjoon's thumb gently between your teeth and flick the tip with your tongue. Namjoon groans and bends, standing face-to-face. 

"Use your words, sweetheart. What is it you want?"

Until this moment, you had not had anything on your mind, but the gaze in Namjoon's eye is exciting, and the prospect of him putting his hands on you out here, in the garden, appeals to you. You suck on Namjoon's thumb, then release it with a pop.

"I want your hands," you respond sweetly. 

"My hands?"

You hum and nod your head. 

"What would you like me to do with my hands, sweetheart?"

With a smirk, you say, "I want you to touch me, silly."

Namjoon rolls his eyes and takes you by the hand, pulling you past the Greek statues to a stone bench just inside the shrub maze. He unbuttons his cardigan and shrugs it off, placing it down on the bench and tugging your hand in its direction, a silent order to sit down. Namjoon gets on his knees in front of you and runs his hands up your thighs, sending a shiver through you.  

"The one time you don't wear a dress," he teases as he reaches up, slipping his fingers below the waistband of your borrowed pants and pulling. 

You angle your hips upwards, lifting yourself off the seat as you allow Namjoon to pull them down, past your hips and thighs. He rubs his hands over your bare skin, up and back down, then begins to pull the garment over your knees. You help expedite the process by lifting your right leg and pulling your foot free, and Namjoon leaves the sweatpants around your left calf.

Namjoon stands and joins you on the bench, pulling your right leg over his lap and rubbing his hand up your thigh. Between Namjoon's touch and the gentle breeze, goosebumps break over your skin, and a shiver tingles down your spine. 

"Is this how you want me to touch you?" Namjoon asks, leaning to brush his lips across yours. 

You let out a soft, satisfied sigh and close your eyes, nodding your head.

"This is a good start."

A deep, sweet chuckle ghosts warm breath over your skin.

"A good start, you say? What can I do to make it better?"

"Touch me higher."

Namjoon brushes the tips of his fingers up your thigh and hip, and then higher, under your shirt to circle your belly button. You huff a scoff of frustration and amusement, and shake your head.

"Lower," you whine, "in the center."

With a deep hum, Namjoon nuzzles his nose against your skin as he moves his hand down, over your panties, leaving featherlight touches across your labia. The gentle contact makes you whine, sending a rush of arousal through you.

"Namjoon, please," you moan, spreading your legs further. 

"Use your words, baby."

A shattered exhale leaves your lips, and you tilt your cheek toward his face, suddenly feeling shy to voice what you want.

Your voice is soft and weak as you beg, "Touch my pussy, daddy. Please."

"That's my good girl," Namjoon groans as he presses against your clothed lips and rubs his fingers up and down.

The wave of pleasure that rushes through you is abrupt, and you arch your back, moaning and shuddering from the sensation. Namjoon twirls his fingers over you several times, then he drags his hand up slowly and pushes it past the waistband of your panties. 

"Does my baby like the way I touch her?" Namjoon asks as his fingers separate your lips and graze over your clit, down to your entrance, and back up, slick with your arousal. It feels heavenly, and you nibble on your lip and whimper. 

Namjoon's voice is stern and low.

"Be a good girl and use your words."

"I love the way you touch me, daddy."

Namjoon spins his fingers over your clit in slow, steady circles, building you gradually as heat flushes over your skin. 

"I'm dying to taste you, baby," Namjoon groans, sucking a spot gently into your skin and licking over the mark. The sensation of him teasing your neck makes you tremble and moan as you imagine that talented tongue between your thighs.

"Then taste me, daddy," you gasp.

Namjoon's hand leaves you, pulling from your panties and letting the elastic waistband snap gently against your skin. You whine, desperate for his touch once more, but he moves your leg away from his lap and gives your hip a gentle slap. 

"Stand up," Namjoon instructs, and you sigh as you follow his order, watching as he stands, picks up his cardigan, and rolls it into a little ball, then places it on one end of the stone bench. Namjoon sits, then lays back with his head cushioned by the shirt, and pats his shoulder with one hand commanding you to, "Sit."

"Sit?" you ask incredulously.

"On my face," he specifies with a raise of his eyebrows. 

You approach and swing your leg over the bench, kneeling on the cold stone as you place your hands above either side of his head and lift your other leg. Yoongi's sweatpants dangle from your ankle, and you reach down to yank it free over your sneaker, then lift your leg, hovering above him. 

Namjoon places his hands on your ass and pulls you forward, craning his neck as you settle, and lapping his tongue against you. His tongue is warm and wet, instantly building your arousal once more, and making you moan. One hand slides away from your ass, reaching between your legs to press two long fingers inside you.

"Fuck," you moan, feeling your arousal rapidly build from the stretch. "That feels so good, daddy."

With a deep, muffled groan, Namjoon licks hungrily at your pussy as his fingers steadily pump in and out. Your hips tremble and gently grind against him as he alternates licking and sucking your clit.

Yoongi's voice pops into your mind, teasingly groaning, "So easy," as you feel yourself quickly reaching the precipice of pleasure. 

"You're gonna make me cum, daddy," you whine as your hips grind a little harder. "Please don't stop."

Namjoon picks up his pace, fucking his fingers into you relentlessly, and you begin to dissolve, vibrating from head to toe as the dam breaks. A sob rips through your chest as you peak, orgasm pulsating through you, and Namjoon does not slow down, pulling wave after wave out until you can no longer take it and begin to shutter from overstimulation. 

"Please," you whine. "It's too much, daddy."

As his fingers and lips slow, you continue to tremble, feeling sensitive and fucked out. As soon as Namjoon pulls completely out, you sit on his chest and lean forward on your hands, caging in his head.

"You're so good to me," you purr as you attempt to get your bearings enough to stand. Namjoon lays patiently as you slide haphazardly, placing one foot on the ground and swinging over the other. 

"Of course I am," Namjoon finally responds as he sits up.

You gather the sweatpants and step out of one shoe and into the leg hole, sliding into the shoe as your foot breaches the end, then repeating with the other side, wiggling your hips as you pull the pants up. Then, you approach Namjoon, slotting a leg between his and grabbing his face as you bend to leave a soft, chaste kiss. 

"I like you a lot, Joonbug," you mutter against his lips. 

Namjoon wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, licking into your mouth with a moan. You melt against him, tasting heady hints of your release.

"I like you a lot too, sweetheart."

"Let me take care of you?" you ask sweetly, reaching for his erection, but he shakes his head softly and says, "Later. This was just about getting you off."

You tilt your head back to get a look at Namjoon, endeared by his soft gaze and dimpled cheeks.

"Show me your house, then? I want to learn more about you."

With a grin, Namjoon nods and says, "Let's go."

Namjoon stands and takes your hand, lacing your fingers between his.

"If we continue past this part of the garden, there is a path that leads from Tae's property to the backs of the homes, but I want to show you the more direct road from the mansion."

You hum and nod, following Namjoon's lead through the garden the way you came. Just before the driveway, there is a path that leads through trees and a clearing in the garden wall, which opens to a wide gravel area that narrows into a road. With each step, the earth crunches, and you take a deep breath, letting out a contented sigh, holding Namjoon's hand while you walk in comfortable silence. 

As you continue down the road, a large brown house comes into view, partially surrounded by trees. While the home is smaller than the mansion, it is still far too large for just one person, and you frown as you imagine Namjoon returning here alone in the past, knowing he would rather be in the mansion, with Yoongi.

"Once you've been in my home, you're more or less been in them all. They were built from the same mould. Except for Taehyung's place."

"Is his bigger?"

Namjoon hums. "His is massive. It might even be larger than Yoongi's place."

"Why?"

With a chuckle, Namjoon gives your hand a gentle squeeze. "Discussing Taehyung's personal life is something I do not allow myself to do. But I will just say that the man has some interesting hobbies, in addition to his various examination and surgical rooms."

"Not cryptic at all," you tease.

Felix's words return, and you shudder at the thought of him ripping people apart in his big, state-of-the-art hospital-slash-mansion. You hope that he was trying to intimidate you by exaggerating. 

Namjoon's property is surrounded by various trees and bushes, and he has a garden of his own, though it is much smaller, with more greenery and fewer statues, on the side of the house. A large black sedan sits outside the garage, looking identical to those the rest of the family men drive, and you wonder if his Porsche is inside the garage. 

As you approach the large, brown two-story home, Namjoon releases your hand and steps up to the thumbprint and retina scanner, then punches in a long code before his front door clicks open. You follow his lead inside, sliding your shoes off beside his large, chaotic shoe stash. A set of stairs lead up along the nearby right wall, and the house opens into a large living room, with what appears to be a dining area past the stairs, to the right.

Namjoon takes your hand in his once more and leads you into the living room. Everything is earth tones, reclaimed woods, and leather, and you are pleasantly surprised by the number of paintings and sculptures he has displayed throughout the space. One cozy brown leather chair is surrounded by a large pile of books, and he has a small stack of art and photography books on his coffee table.

"I don't know why I'm surprised to find all this art, considering our museum date," you tease, turning to Namjoon and finding his gaze soft and sweet. 

Namjoon smiles, giving your hand a delicate squeeze.

"We should do that again, sometime. Minus the torture pitstop."

"Yes," you agree with a laugh. "We can skip the torture next time."

Gently, Namjoon tugs on your hand, pulling you toward him, and you step in close, rubbing your palm over his soft brown cardigan. The room smells of his musk with earthy hints from the many plants that sit atop furniture and shelves, and it feels much more like home than Yoongi's mansion. 

"It's been so long since I've brought someone here," Namjoon says, gently taking your chin in his free hand. "It feels nice letting you see me a little bit more."

"It's nice being welcomed to see you a bit more."

Namjoon leans forward, and you tilt your head up, expecting a kiss, but he leans and rests his forehead against yours, closing his eyes with a smile.

"I like you a lot."

Your tummy does a swoop, and you wrap your arm around his neck, playing with the hairs on his nape, and give his hand a tight squeeze.

"I like you a lot too, Namjoon."

When Namjoon opens his eyes, his expression is hungrier, and he tugs his lips into a smile. Then, he drops his hand from your chin and stands up straight, eyebrows knitting as he reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone, which is vibrating. One glance at the screen, and he answers the call.

"Yoongi-hyung."

Excitement and anxiety pool in your tummy at the mention of Yoongi, and you watch Namjoon as his gaze flits to you, then he nods his head.

"She's with me. We were walking through the gardens and I decided to show her how to get to my place. … Nah, I was just about to give her a tour and bring her back home, but we can cut it short and come back now. … Sounds good, I'll see you in a bit. … I love you too." 

He does not take his eyes off you as he ends the call, and you feel another more powerful swoop in your guts when he speaks those last four words. Heat rises to your cheeks, and you do your best to hide how affected you are by it, keeping your expression flat while he slips his phone back into his pocket. 

"He's home much sooner than expected; shall we head back?" Namjoon asks, leaning in to slot his lips against yours. 

You reach for Namjoon's shirt, just above his pec, and gently gather the fuzzy material between your fingers as you lean into the kiss and let out a groan of satisfaction. Even the faintest kiss from Namjoon is so sweet and soft, filling you with warmth and adoration, and you lean into him, letting your lips slowly open and close against his—languid and saccharine.

When Namjoon releases the kiss, you open your eyes with a smile.

"I suppose we shall."

He nods as he says, "I'll give you a tour next time."

Namjoon leads you back to the front entrance, and you slip on your shoes, lamenting having to go back so soon, but eager to see Yoongi. It hasn't been long since you said goodbye, but you find yourself missing him more and more whenever he is away. 

The walk back to the mansion is quiet, and Namjoon holds your hand as he hums softly to himself. You enjoy these calm, peaceful moments with him, and gaze around at the Japanese maple trees that line the area. Soon, their leaves will begin to change and become a pretty bright red. 

Rather than taking you back toward the garden, Namjoon leads you along a path that opens by the driveway. Leaning against the garage door is a mint green bicycle with a brown basket on the handlebars and a slender luggage rack over the back tire, and you smile to yourself, knowing that it is undoubtedly the bicycle that Felix had described. 

"Ah, Jeongguk is here," Namjoon mutters. "I wonder if that means Taehyung is, too."

"Do they often travel as a pair?" you ask.

Namjoon clears his throat and gives your hand a squeeze before releasing it.

"Sometimes."

As you approach, the front door swings open, and Seokjin walks out, dressed head to toe in black and tapping a pack of cigarettes against his palm. When he turns and meets your gaze, he grins.

"My, what a pleasant surprise. And just what were the two of you up to?"

Although you are sure all of the family men must know about the state of your relationship with Namjoon, you feel anxiety bubble under Seokjin's scrutiny. 

"Going for a walk," Namjoon responds. 

Seokjin hums and nods his head, then pulls a cigarette from the pack and places it between his lips. As he fishes a lighter from his pocket, you and Namjoon step past, into the door, which has been left open by a crack. The main hall of the house is empty, but you notice movement out by the pool. You step out of your shoes and wait for Namjoon to do the same, then follow him toward the back door. 

"Ah, there you are," Yoongi calls from the top of the stairs as soon as you are near the landing, and you turn to find him smiling widely with his hair wavy and overgrown, wearing a black tee tucked into black slacks.

"Going to change," Namjoon mutters to you, leaving a kiss on your forehead. "I'll be back."

Yoongi begins to make his way down the stairs as Namjoon walks up, and you stand and watch as they meet in the middle with Yoongi one step higher and slightly towering above Namjoon, smiling as he pulls him into a kiss. They mutter between them, then Yoongi continues down as Namjoon walks up, in the direction of the bedroom. 

"Darling," Yoongi calls sweetly, opening his arms as he reaches the final steps. 

You approach, and once he is on level ground, you wrap your arms around him, burying your face against his shoulder as you squeeze him tight.

"Miss me?" Yoongi rasps, deep and oh, so sweet.

Your voice sounds breathy as you respond, "I did," releasing the hug just enough to gaze up into his eyes. "How did everything go?"

There is a twitch in Yoongi's jaw that almost goes unnoticed, and when he responds, "I handled everything," his tone is completely changed. 

"I'm glad."

Footsteps come from upstairs, and you look past Yoongi to find Namjoon dressed in his standard black button-up and slacks. Yoongi draws your attention with a kiss to your temple and an invitation.

"How would you feel about joining us at a gun range?"

The question feels somewhat random, but it is something that has crossed your mind, especially living in this house with the goings-on that take place.

"Alright," you respond, clearing your throat, which suddenly feels dry. "That would probably be a good idea."

"Taehyung, Jeongguk, and I used to go on a fairly regular basis, and we have been discussing starting up again, this week. I talked to them about having you tag along and they seemed receptive to it."

You are unsure if going to a shooting range of all places with the terror twins is an exciting prospect or a frightening one, but you do not argue. You are certain that Yoongi wouldn't intentionally put you into a dangerous situation, but being that you do not know either of them very well, you have no idea what to expect. 

The glass door leading out to the pool slides open, and you turn to find Taehyung entering shirtless with his wet hair swept off his forehead and a big white towel wrapped around his hips. He looks stunning with his sly boxy smile and the droplets from his hair streaking his golden skin.

"Are you excited for tomorrow?" Taehyung asks with his gaze fixed on you.

You hum and turn to Yoongi, who says, "I thought we would start shooting right away."

"Oh," you respond, eyes wide as you look back to Taehyung, who asks, "Have you shot a gun before?"

You nod; you have done shooting practice with cans and other trash, but never had to put a bullet through another person. "I have, but only a little."

"Good," Taehyung says with a smirk. "I can't wait to see how you handle it."

Yoongi gives your shoulder a squeeze, and you attempt to keep your breathing level and steady, but there is something in those sharp, cold eyes of Taehyung's that unsettle you. You glance past Taehyung through the doors to find Jeongguk standing, towel-drying his hair with a deep, unmistakable frown, and you force a smile, swallowing down a ball of anxiety as you turn back to Yoongi.

"C-can't wait."

(Mm-mhm)

숨을 내쉬고 뱉어 like (Mm-mhm) Breathe out and еxhale like like (Mm-mhm) 경계를 넘어서 like (Mm-mhm) Bеyond the boundary like like (Mm-mhm)

내 품에 널 안아 like (Mm-mhm) Hold you in my arms like like (Mm-mhm)

다른 생각은 하지마 Don’t even think about other things

🎵 visit the playlist

are we having fun? i am so sorry the updates continue to be spread out, but i am not undertaking so many side projects this year, so hopefully we can get this story wrapped up in the next three or four months. i am excited to show you more of taekook. they are a trip!

 as always, please don’t be a silent reader! feedback & reblogs do so much to help content creators! and likes are always appreciated.

a seokjin pov scene takes place during this chapter, where we follow him through a typical day. you can access his pov here (or learn parts of it in later chapters from the reader’s perspective!)

tag list: @afangirllikeme-blog, @angel-121, @artgukk​, @btsiguess-kpop, @bts-ficreviews @che-er-ful, @codeinebelle, @dasexydevitt13, @giriiboyy, @illnevertrustmyselfagain, @jalexad,  @kissme-ornot, @leanimal90, @likeshatteredrainbowglass, @m1sss1mp​, @mayeolorie, @mwitsmejk, @openup-yourmind, @sleepilysworld, @stocking221, @spookyminyunki​, @thirstyforjoon, @valhallawhispers 🗡️ comment or dm to be added!

PREVIOUS | INDEX | NEXT

Collateral is copyright 2022-2023 theharrowing, all rights reserved. Don’t be a silent reader!

#yoongi smut #yoongi fluff #yoongi mafia #namjoon smut #namjoon mafia #namjoon fluff #yoongi x reader #namjoon x reader #yoongi x namjoon #bts smut #bts fluff #bts mafia #bts poly #fic: collateral #Spotify

[effortandmore]

all that we wouldn't say (myg x knj)

summary: if yoongi told someone that letting go of BTS and namjoon at the same time was hard, it would be a gross understatement. it was, in fact, the worst year or so of his life, but he’s managed to somehow move on. he’s had time, therapy, and lots of friends, family, and work to distract him. things are good now—the best they’ve ever been, maybe. but yoongi knows better than anyone that good things don’t always last, and that point is proven when namjoon shows back up in his life out of nowhere with an album that needs producing and questions yoongi doesn’t have the answers to.

pairing: yoongi x namjoon, yoongi x ofc

rating: explicit (18+ please)

genre: smut, angst, ambiguous (happy tho) ending

au: canon divergent, post-disbandment idolverse

warnings: a little angst, this is post-disbandment so like... they disbanded and that seems like it should be a warning. the ending is hopeful but not concrete... not unhappy but not like... your traditional happy ending either. smut! bisexual!yoongi (he sleeps with a woman and a man in this fic). penetrative sex, anal sex, oral sex (f!receiving, m!receiving), namjoon has a praise kink a little bit prob, anal fingering, kissing, idk... bottom!kim namjoon... i think that's probably everything but as always pls tell me if i missed something...

word count: 20k

a/n: sorry that this fic is two months late! this was written for the composition of the century yoongi collaboration. thank you to @kithtaehyung for the banner, and to @ugh-yoongi and @the-boy-meets-evil for reading this over. you are all very lovely people and i'm so so happy that we were able to see yoongi together!! that said, all mistakes are mine and they're lovely people who would have caught anything if i asked them to. let's be honest, we're just here for vibes at this point.

read on ao3

He wakes up, and not that he’s counting, but it’s been eight hundred and fifty two mornings that he’s been on his own (he’s definitely counting). By now, that shouldn’t be the first thought that crosses his mind each day, but without fail, it is.

When they were younger, he would tease Namjoon about his penchant for forgetting details—”Namjoonie, everyone knows you didn’t mean to change your stage name, you just forgot what it was supposed to be one day”—to a predictable chorus of responses: falling on the floor laughter from Tae and Jimin, surprise from Hobi, stifled almost-giggles from Jungkook and Jin… 

Now, he wishes he could forget like that. 

Briefly, he wonders what it would be like to wake up in the morning (afternoon, but don’t tell his mother) and not know how many days it had been, to have just a small break from remembering what his life was like before. Instead, every day he wakes up feeling half-right, ruffled, a little on edge, and a lot alone—the last remnants of something like pain that all the therapy in Seoul hasn’t managed to ease. 

Just like the previous eight hundred and fifty one days, he shakes off the disorientation. It happens pretty quickly now—he does it much faster than he used to be able to. His routine now is good, grounding. Coffee first. He goes through the motions, humming a little and tapping out a beat on the counter while he waits for the fancy machine (Jin bought it for him, he was perfectly happy with his old french press) to pull his espresso shots. When it’s ready, he takes it to the piano bench and sits facing the window while Holly spins until he finds himself a seat on top of Yoongi’s feet. Over coffee, he has his first (sometimes only) conversation of the day, 

“Who’s the best boy?” he coos softly. 

“You are… yes, you are.” 

“Are we gonna have a good day, Holly? Hmm?” 

(It’s not for lack of trying that Holly only responds with wide eyes and a wagging tail). 

Then it’s pilates, which he’s done for a while now. Long enough that he can remember getting Namjoon into it, can remember taking online classes together eventually, can remember the first time he tried it again on his own. It’s almost mindless at this point, which today makes him pause to wonder if he should try something new. Is it really a workout if you don’t have to try that hard anymore? Maybe he’s gotten complacent. Or just stronger? He looks at his thin arms in the mirror and smiles. Complacent, he thinks. 

In the shower, he contemplates calling Jin to get together over the weekend. They don’t see each other as much as they used to before Jin stopped coming around the company to record. He knows if he texts he’ll get a call back relatively quickly at least, which is more than he can count on from Jungkook. It’s like this nearly every day—he thinks about who he could call: music friends, old friends, new friends (except you can’t always be sure they’ll actually turn out to be friends, Yoongi knows), and decides to stick with what he knows best. It’s always Jimin, Hobi, or Jin. Always. Tae and Jungkook are too busy, and while he misses them, he loves seeing them so successful and happy. Small victories. 

More coffee while he walks Holly. It’s cold outside, so he’s in as many layers as he could find and cutting their morning stroll a little shorter than he normally would. Jimin always teases him for complaining about the cold, but he lives at least a quarter mile closer to the river than the rest of them, so what would they know, anyway? It’s definitely colder at his apartment than any of theirs, and he’ll die on that hill. 

Finally it’s time for work. He’s lucky that he makes his own schedule and can dick around for a few hours from whenever he wakes up until whenever he decides to work. Not that he doesn’t have things to do and deadlines to meet, he just knows himself well enough to put in the right amount of time and effort nowadays. It’s not worth being burnt out over, which is something a younger version of him would have never thought he’d be someday saying. It’s one of the only things he thinks Namjoon was right about eight hundred and fifty two days ago. 

Here’s where his routine varies. Sometimes he drives, sometimes he calls a driver, sometimes he walks when he’s feeling especially ambitious or nostalgic (it’s not often). Today, he calls a driver. He doesn’t know how long he’ll be there or if he’ll feel like driving when he’s finished, and he hates leaving his car at the company overnight. It’s inexplicable because their security is great, of course. It just makes him feel like he’s stranded in his stupid large apartment with no way out. Trapped. He despises that feeling even if he doesn’t actually end up wanting to leave. 

In the back of the car, he decides it’s a good day. The sun is out, but not harsh, Holly woke up happy, he’s working on a couple of tracks he’s really proud of with people he likes collaborating with, and he’ll probably see Jin this weekend if everything goes to plan. He’s lucky, he knows. Some people don’t have the privilege to decide if their days will be good or not. So, he tries to simply let himself feel content. It’s a challenge, but on the days he succeeds, it’s worth it. And on days like today, he really believes it when he repeats affirmations of his own success and happiness in a silent mantra as the car crosses the river into Gangnam. 

“Morning,” he greets the receptionists. It’s not bright or cheery, because he’s not onto coffee number three yet, but they smile regardless. Neither of them correct him to say it’s afternoon, because he’s who he is and they’re probably intimidated. He wishes it weren’t like that, but his whole last fifteen years has been a testimony to the importance of keeping professional distances, so he lets it slide. It’s not about him; not really. 

The nice thing (one of many, he knows), about being his own boss (more or less) is that he doesn’t have to worry about running to his email inbox first thing to see if anyone needs anything from him. People perpetually do, but hardly any of them sign his paycheck, so they can usually wait a bit. So, he doesn’t bother. He gets his computer on, opens Cubase straight away, and starts work (after he texts to see if someone will bring him coffee number three). It’s peaceful, he likes this track so much it’s going to almost hurt when he’s done with it. That’s the moment he loves and hates the most—the one where something he’s put his soul into transfers ownership to someone else. If you love something, let it go, as they say, but Yoongi’s never really been very good at that. 

The songs he’s been writing for himself have been sad. They’re too honest—pure and crystalline, each verse a surface reflecting another way in which his breakup with Namjoon ruined him piece by piece. The rest of the storyline, where he’s gradually started to put himself back together, has only shown up in his ability to produce songs that are happy, angry, defiant, hopeful… Still can’t write anything like that, though. Has songs he’s worked on for months and the lyrics simply sit in his notebook unedited, unfinished. For someone like Yoongi, words turn the theoretical into the tangible. So, if he never finishes those songs, his pain remains as an idea—the remnants of it haunt him, but he never has to let anyone know that, not really. 

Instead, he can take the words and ideas of others and bring those to life. Maybe it’s healing for them, maybe they’re braver than him, but he plays a small part in their happiness and their success and that’s as worth clinging onto and being proud of as getting his own thoughts to paper would be.  

Later, after coffee and before lunch, he’s immersed in the song, but his phone won’t stop buzzing. It’s annoying and incessant and he can feel it more than he can hear it as he tries to ignore it in favor of working out a harmony on his keyboard. Finally, on what he assumes is the fourth or fifth missed call, he tugs his headphones off and grabs the phone. It’s the fourth missed call, it’s Bang-PD each time, and he can’t place why the man would call him so many times in a row. Then he gets a text that just reads, “Check your email, please.” Ominous or curious, he can’t really tell. 

In his inbox there are a hundred or more unread emails, but one sitting right at the top from his old boss—the subject line reads “Favor,” and it has an attachment. 

The email is simple; just that Bang-PD needs a favor. Needs someone to lead production on an album, and the artist has personally requested Yoongi. Yoongi doesn’t work for him anymore; their former boss has been long replaced by someone a little younger, a little more interested in running the company now that it’s bigger than big with divisions and sub-corporations so numerous that Yoongi can’t even count them all. But… even though he’s not the boss, he’s certainly someone Yoongi owes a favor to. Their relationship is complex—somewhere between friendship and mutual respect… When everything had ended, when Yoongi was lost and low and scared, his old boss was there for him. An ear to listen, a guest room to sleep in, a job when he was ready to do something with himself again… So, even before he knows who the artist is, Yoongi knows he’ll do it. It’s not like Bang-PD sends him shit usually, anyway. If he’s onboard, it’s probably at least half-good already. 

Yoongi pops his headphones back on and opens the attachment. A demo, rough around the edges but well-executed. Good ideas musically, superior ones lyrically. He doesn’t recognize the voice on the track, but he supposes it may or may not actually belong to whomever the song belongs to, anyway. There’s something about the song… something about how the words manage to be melancholy and optimistic at the same time, something about how there are maybe one too many competing sounds in the track… It’s so familiar. He likes it instantly, he also knows he can fix it, he knows it’s good but that he can make it great—doesn’t even finish the whole thing before he texts back. I’ll do it, this is good. Really good. 

The response is immediate. “I knew you’d like it. I’ll be in touch.” 

And just like that, Yoongi has a new gig as the current one is winding down. He still doesn’t know why it carried the urgency of an email and four missed calls and a text, still doesn’t know who the artist is that asked for him, but that’s how it goes sometimes. He’ll know all the details soon enough, he decides. No use in overthinking. 

***

So, life goes on. Work and routine and warmer days as spring rolls through Seoul, and meetings with rappers and singers and other producers… It’s busy in the way he likes, keeps him just on the healthy side of distracted, keeps him feeling productive, human even. His therapist, it seems, was right all along: things seem better with time and distance. 

When he meets Jin a couple Saturdays later for drinks, everything is as it should be, everything is squarely in its place in Yoongi’s carefully crafted world. 

“Yoongi-chi!” 

Seokjin looks happy—bright smile, bright voice, always a little hint of a tease in it. 

“Jin-hyung, I’m glad to see you.” And he is. These are always his favorite parts of the week. He’s wrapped in a crooked hug—Seokjin is and always has been a little awkward with this kind of contact (unless it’s with Jeongguk). 

“Glad to see you, too,” he says into Yoongi’s hair.

They sit, they flag down the server to place their order, and they catch up. Jin’s not making music anymore, but he’s busier than ever with all of his other endeavors: restaurants, makgeolli, commercials, MC gigs… the list is almost endless. It’s good to see him happy, trying new things with his friends. Of all of them, Seokjin’s always been one of the most private, so Yoongi likes seeing him this way, happy and open. It feels like something gifted to him, a part of his friend that not many people will ever get to see. 

“So…” Jin says lazily, and Yoongi knows he isn’t going to like what’s coming next—he knows this tone. It’s the “I’m planning something and I know you won’t like it so I’ve taken it far enough that you can’t back out or argue about it without looking like a dick” tone. Usually only reserved for Yoongi (and used to be Namjoon, too, but Yoongi—thankfully—doesn’t know much about Namjoon and Jin’s current relationship, if they’re still close enough for Jin to pull this kind of shit anymore). 

“You might as well spit it out,” Yoongi murmurs.

Jin laughs and takes a long drink of his beer. “Well… There’s someone I want you to meet.” 

“No.” 

“Yoongi, just hear me out.” He draws out the vowels of Yoongi’s name like he’s already begging. This means one of two things. A music favor or a date he doesn’t want. 

“What’s his name?” 

“Her name.” 

“A singer?” 

“No…”

Yoongi sighs and picks at the label of his beer bottle. “I don’t think I’m ready,” he says. 

“It’s been almost three years.” 

“Time is a construct,” Yoongi retorts. He means for it to be under his breath, but he knows Jin heard him, knows it wasn’t quiet enough. 

“Her name is Hiah. She owns a small soju brand we brought into one of the restaurants. She’s smart, Yoongi, really smart. And interesting, too. She plays the guitar and volunteers at the childrens’ hospital with Iseul. They get along great, and I know you’d like her.” 

Ah… So the truth comes out. Kang Iseul is a force to be reckoned with; you’d have to be to put up with Jin, Yoongi thinks. But Yoongi likes Iseul, respects her, and if she likes this girl… Maybe. “So you want a double date or something?” he asks. 

Jin’s grin reappears as he taps his temple. “Ah, Yoongi-chi, you were always the smartest one in the group.” 

Yoongi scoffs. “When?”

“Next weekend. Saturday. A fundraiser for the hospital. Wear a suit and get someone to do your hair.” 

“Hiah, huh?” 

Jin nods. “Hiah. She’s great, you’ll see.” 

A week later, Yoongi finds himself at the mercy of a stylist at the company who is ensuring he looks photograph-ready. It’s been a while since he’s been forced to shoot anything, dress any certain way, wear any makeup that isn’t of his choosing… He forgot that he kind of likes it—just a little bit, anyway. It’s nice to let someone dress you up and make you look like a different (hopefully better and less tired) version of yourself. 

It’s hard not to sit in the chair and be reminded of how he used to share these moments with the rest of them: how Jeongguk and Jin used to play-fight while the makeup team yelled at them, how Taehyung and Jimin would tease each other and Hobi and whoever else would pay attention to them… and Namjoon—how Namjoon would sit in the back of the room on his phone, always finished first, always pecking out a lyric or a text, meeting Yoongi’s eyes in the mirror every so often and giving a wink or a smirk or just a barely there flash of a dimple when no one was paying attention. 

“That’s a big sigh.” He hears Jin’s voice before he sees him, pulling him back into the present moment. 

“Who let you up here?” Yoongi teases in reply. 

Jin makes flower hands around his chin and pushes his lips out in a half-kiss, half-pout. “Ah, this face still gets me everywhere. Almost ready?” 

The stylist nods for him, and pushes the front of his hair back with one last spritz of hairspray before she signals that he can leave. He stands and bows to her quickly and then checks himself out in the mirror. Not bad, really. Actually, pretty good. His hair is long again, but she’s got it swept off his face, and he looks good in the suit she chose. It’s simple, navy, which isn’t his usual first choice, but looks pretty nice. When he checks out his profile, he decides maybe the pilates are still working just fine. He looks good. 

“Done preening?” Jin asks. 

Yoongi feels himself flush a bit under his makeup. “It’s been a while,” is all he says in return. 

“I know it has.” Jin loops his arm over Yoongi’s shoulders as they make their way to the elevator bank. “But you can do this,” he says. 

Yoongi’s not sure Jin’s right, but he’s gotten this far, so he figures he might as well give it a shot. 

***

Turns out, he ends up being glad he gave Hiah a chance. As promised, he does like her. The fundraiser actually ends up being fun, and it’s mostly thanks to her. She keeps up with Jin, she isn’t shy around Yoongi, she makes jokes (and Yoongi finds a great satisfaction in announcing to Jin that Hiah’s jokes are funnier than Jin’s, which Iseul agrees with, sending Jin into a panic of telling even worse dad jokes than he had been before). Jin was right: Hiah is smart, pretty, and interesting. She doesn’t just play the guitar, she plays the guitar in an indie band, which Yoongi thinks is painfully cool even though he really isn’t supposed to be impressed by that kind of thing anymore. She’s taller than him in her heels, probably a little taller than him without them, too, and looks incredible in her dress, which is off-white and off-the shoulder and shows off her collarbone and the delicate, fine-line tattoo that runs across the length of it, as well as her tanned skin, which Yoongi never has himself and has always been a sucker for. 

When the speeches start, the part of these kinds of events that Yoongi hates the most, Hiah leans in and whispers to ask if he wants to get some fresh air, and then promptly tows him out of the ballroom to a balcony on the next floor. 

“So…” she starts, looking a little unsure and a little wild as they lean against the railing. “Can I be forward with you Yoongi-ssi?” 

Oh, he likes her already. 

“Of course. And just Yoongi is fine.” 

“Iseul tells me you might not be over your last relationship.” 

“Does she?” It isn’t what he expected to hear from her; he was hoping to avoid the ex talk. 

Hiah nods and then turns to look out over the city, holding her weight off of her heels when she leans over the balustrade. “I don’t know if I am either,” she says quietly. “Over my ex, you know. But you’re interesting, and handsome, and pretty obviously out of my league, so…” She lets herself down with a hop. He likes watching her, he realizes, likes her playful body language, likes that she seems to have these bits of energy bubbling in her veins just under the surface of her skin that she needs to let out. She’s different from him in that way. “I think we should just kiss and get it out of the way.” 

“What?” 

She smiles widely. “You know, just see if anything’s there. If there is, maybe we see each other again, take things slow. If there’s not, then… Well, we can tell Iseul and Seokjin we tried and maybe they’ll get off both our backs for a while.” 

“You’re an interesting woman, Hiah.” 

One step closer… then another, and then Hiah is right there, breathing the same air as him, looking down a little at him with a smirk. “I’ve heard that before.” 

“Yeah?”

“Mmhmm,” she murmurs, and then brings her hands to his lapels to smooth them down over his chest. Something in the back of his poorly-functioning-at-the-moment brain tells him that they were already smooth, that she’s touching him just for the sake of touching… And he thinks he likes it. “I’ve also been told I’m a good kisser.” 

“Interesting…” He chokes it out, nervous, anticipating. Hiah’s clearly holding the reins and Yoongi’s excited, he realizes, to see what she does next. 

What she does is dip her head down and press her lips to his, all softness and kindness and something sweet that Yoongi immediately realizes has been missing from his life for a couple years. Hiah is warm and her lips are plush and when her tongue slips into his mouth, licking softly against his own, she tastes like strawberries and a little like the champagne they’ve been drinking. It’s nice—nice to feel wanted, nice to have the taste and smell of someone else weaving their way through his senses. It’s mostly nice to feel connected to someone. His chest hurts, thinking about how long it’s been since someone touched him like this, since someone showed him affection like this. The kiss is nice, tender, and a little bittersweet as he realizes how different it is… kissing someone that isn’t Namjoon. Without meaning to, he whimpers quietly when Hiah pulls away, already missing the feeling of her mouth on his. Missing the closeness. 

“That was…” he starts at the same time Hiah speaks. 

“Maybe there is a little something there,” she says, eyes wide. He’s relieved that it’s not just his unadmitted loneliness making him think there was a bit of a spark between them, that maybe she felt it, too. 

They share a few more sweet and quick kisses on the balcony, and then the sound of applause floating through the air decides for them that they should go back inside. He isn’t really sure how long they’ve been gone—kissing and laughing and sharing some sense of anticipation under the crescent moon. 

Seokjin literally giggles when they make their way back to the table, as Iseul politely points out that Yoongi has the dark red stain of Hiah’s lipstick on the side of his mouth. He would be embarrassed under most circumstances, but Hiah is laughing when she grabs his jaw gently and dabs at it with a damp cloth napkin. It makes him feel light and more free than he has almost since he can remember. 

He doesn’t escape the teasing from Seokjin for the rest of the night, and for weeks after that. He takes Hiah out a few times, keeping Iseul and Jin in the loop on how things are progressing. Each time he sees her, he likes her more. On the days when they have dates planned for the evening, he finds himself smiling more, focusing less, and even a little giddy looking forward to his time with her. She’s a good companion, still making him laugh like she did the first time they met, still easy on him and a little hard on herself—Yoongi can relate to that. 

Everything is going well, and he has to stop himself from thinking it’s going “too well,” that he doesn’t deserve this kind of happiness, that it’s not meant for him. 

***

The first time Yoongi invites Hiah back to his place after a date, he’s had an objectively good day. He finished the track he’d been working on for Younha, he met with one of the company’s girl groups to see if a song he’d written a while back could work for their new album—they loved it—and he finally got a meeting set up with the management of the artist whose album Bang-PD asked him to produce a couple months prior. 

His date with Hiah that night was great; they met at the company building and then walked to a cat cafe. It was stupid and simple, but they drank wine and ate cake and played with cats, and she was so funny and kind, and whip-smart with her conversation… He felt like he just stared at her the whole time with big, dopey eyes—this girl in baggy jeans and a hoodie with cats crawling all over her lap while she made stupid jokes about Schroedinger—and he knew that he was going to take her home, knew he wanted to try and take things further with her, knew he was about to cross into new territory and he was shitting bricks just thinking about it. 

“Hiah?” 

“Hmm?” She looks up at him and smiles, hands carding through the soft fur of a calico kitten that hasn’t left her side since they got there. 

“Do you… maybe want to come back to my—”

“Yes.” Hiah nods emphatically before he can even finish his sentence, and then they’re both immediately reduced to nervous laughter and shy smiles, downing the rest of their wine more quickly than people should, and scurrying to get a taxi back to his flat. 

As soon as they’re through the door, they’re on each other, Hiah pressed against his door, his hands pushing under her hoodie, and hers in his hair as he kisses up her neck and jaw, warm and soft skin pricking up with goosebumps as he goes. 

“Want the tour?” he asks, a little breathlessly.

“Not now,” she replies. “Just the bedroom, yeah?” 

And then it’s happening. It’s like a fever dream, and he doesn’t even remember how they got there, but she’s naked on his bed (and Yoongi hasn’t had someone naked on his bed in a shamefully long time—not since Namjoon, not since tanned skin and long, thick legs, and playful dimpled grins that are still etched into his brain), and she’s also long and tan and fuck, she’s wet already, he can see it when she opens her legs for him…

The first thing he thinks when he sees her is that she’s so different from Namjoon. And he hates himself a little for even thinking about him in this moment. He wants to give his attention to Hiah—doesn’t love her, but loves spending time with her, wants her to feel good and special and cared for, and thinking about how her legs are long and tan like Namjoon’s but that nothing else is the same isn’t achieving that.

It’s been so long since he’s been with someone, longer since he’s been with a woman, but he finds, as he brings his focus back to Hiah, that it’s the same now as it has been in his memories and fantasies for the last couple of lonely years. She rolls her hips into his touch when he slides one, and then two fingers inside her. When his thumb finds her clit, she whimpers, tells him it’s been so long and he feels so good. She whines again when his lips close around one of her nipples, rolling his tongue around where it peaks and letting his teeth sink in just enough for her to feel it, not enough to hurt. 

He’s hard and he’s self-conscious, because as good as he knows he is at making other people feel good, he also hasn’t been naked in front of anyone since Namjoon. Namjoon with his, “God, you’re so gorgeous, hyung,” and his deep, deep moans, and his jaw clicking around when Yoongi would tease him, making Yoongi feel sexy… powerful even, like he could do anything, ask for anything, and Namjoon would let him, would give it to him. Except when you asked him to stay, his traitorous mind tells him as he slides his briefs off and gives Hiah her first view of all of the rest of him. 

“Fuck,” she says. “Pilates works for you, huh?” as she sits up on her elbows and smirks. It makes him blush, makes him feel good, makes him decide that maybe dating Hiah, bringing her home with him, was one of the best ideas he’s had in a long time. 

“I do okay,” he replies.

“You look great,” she assures him. “Now will you please fuck me?” 

Sex with Hiah starts out fun. They laugh, and their teeth clack together a few times when they try to kiss, and it’s clear that it’s been a little while for both of them, but they eventually find a good rhythm. She’s a little whiny, a little desperate, and Yoongi likes that—it’s a confidence booster, makes him feel like he’s still got “it.” 

At one point, after he’s given her one orgasm already, she gets him on his back, straddles him, and slides slowly onto his dick. It’s the closest to perfect he’s felt in ages. She moves her hips against him, grinding more than bouncing, and it’s just like Namjoon. Just like him. There’s a warm wave of nostalgia that washes over him, and even though her hips feel different, and the soft skin of her stomach isn’t as firm under his hands, if he closes his eyes, he can almost swear he’s gone back in time. Namjoon grinding down on him, whining when Yoongi thumbs at the head of his cock, dragging precum and lube down to the base and fisting him tight. It’s so clear in his memory, the little grunts he would let out, the breathy, “fuck, hyung,” with each upstroke, getting more desperate as he got closer to release. 

Soon, Hiah is moving up and down, riding him fast and hard and he’s got his fingers wound tightly into the bedsheets because she’s not Namjoon—because he doesn’t know where to touch her, doesn’t know what she might like, and if he tries something, it might ruin the fantasy playing out in his head. The one of his best friend fucking himself on Yoongi’s cock until there’s cum all over Yoongi’s hand and chest, until they’re breathless and Namjoon feels like dead weight on him, reeling in his orgasm and just letting Yoongi fuck into him until he’s finished too, letting Yoongi use him to get off and moaning quietly through the overstimulation. It’s perfect, really, because Hiah is bent over him now, kissing her way along his collarbone and chest and it’s warm and wet just like Namjoon would have made him. And she’s giving him soft whimpers that he can distort in his mind to make them sound like Namjoon’s, and nothing is the same about them, not really, but nothing is so different that he can’t imagine it. 

He’s coming before he knows what’s happening, almost saying Namjoon’s name, his hands releasing their tight grip on the sheets to land on Hiah’s hips, to hold her down as he thrusts up into her hard, spilling into the condom. He knows she hasn’t had another orgasm, knows it’s selfish that he didn’t even try to give her one while he was still inside her. As his orgasm fades, the guilt sets in. It’s not fucking normal, he thinks, to be thinking about your ex-boyfriend while some near-perfect girl is hot and tight and wet on your cock, while she’s telling you how much she likes you, how good you make her feel. He feels himself turning red with shame, hopes she thinks it’s sex related… Pulls the condom off and tosses it before he dives back between her thighs to hide his embarrassment. 

It works, at least a little bit, because he loses himself in the way she feels and tastes, and she fucks his face like she’s taking something that doesn’t belong to her, and she whispers something when she comes that doesn’t sound like his name at all. Her eyes are pinched shut and there’s a tear slipping out of the left one, and right then, he remembers what she said the first night they met about maybe not being over her ex, knows what they’re doing is fucked up, but at least they’re in it together. 

They both clean up quietly, he invites her to stay, and she accepts, and he’d be willing to bet money that they’re both in it for the same thing—the delay of the crash that’s coming, the loneliness that will set in when they’re not curled up next to someone warm, someone who shares their pain, someone who gets it. 

Her breath is shallow and warm on his chest, and she’s kind and sweet and sexy, and he wishes he could have done this differently. 

“Are you alright?” she whispers. 

“No. Are you?” It’s honest; probably too honest, but he owes her that, at least. 

Hiah smiles against his skin. “No.” 

“At least we have each other,” he says, knowing it’s not enough and hoping it’ll do, anyway.

“Could be so much worse,” she says.

“The cats were nice.” 

She lets out a loud, bright laugh. “The cats and the orgasms,” she agrees.

***

When he wakes in the morning, he tries to stick to his routine, even with Hiah there. It’s strange to have someone in his space like this, he’s not used to it and it throws him off a little. He doesn’t know anymore how to make the right amount of coffee for two people. Doesn’t remember that Holly has to go for a walk and Hiah is probably a person who eats breakfast and those two things seem exceptionally challenging for him to coordinate properly. But Hiah is easy, relaxed about things in general, so she takes Holly for a walk while Yoongi cooks for them, and by the time they’re done eating and Hiah is borrowing a toothbrush and a towel so she can get ready for work, he almost forgets that he doesn’t know how to do this. 

They part ways when a car comes for each of them, one to take Hiah to her office in Sinchon, and one headed to Gangnam for him. She gives him a kiss before she gets in the car, and they make plans to see each other again on the weekend, and they don’t talk about how she cried, don’t talk about how he was picturing someone else on top of him. It seems like they don’t need to. 

He’s halfway through the day when he gets a “Good job” text from Seokjin with eggplant emojis because apparently they’re still fifteen, which means Hiah told Iseul that they’d slept together, and Iseul told Jin, and Jin is going to want to tease him relentlessly about it—worse than the teasing he was getting for not sleeping with anyone, probably. But they go back and forth for a bit, and Yoongi gets one of the interns to bring him coffee and the good dakgalbi from the place down the street, and he’s still on a bit of a high from the orgasm and the friendship and the food when there’s a knock on his door. 

It’s time for his meeting with that mystery artist, and he’s excited. He’s prepared for it, has ideas for each track that he thinks will help, but also needs to hear all the lyrics so he has a better idea of what they’re trying to accomplish with the songs. 

He’s got a smile on his face when he opens the door to Genius Lab, and it lasts approximately half a second when he realizes that standing in the hallway in front of him, for the first time in years, is Kim Namjoon. 

“Hi, hyung.” 

“No.”

Confusion crosses Namjoon’s face, Yoongi sees it—Namjoon has never hidden his thoughts well, never had a good poker face. “Sorry, I’m not sure what to say,” he says. 

“Me either,” Yoongi says, still in disbelief that this is happening. 

“Can I come in?” 

And that feels… like something Yoongi doesn’t want. Or, at least not right now. That’s his place. It’s private and it’s safe and it’s been redecorated since Namjoon left—the pictures of him all gone except for one of the seven of them at the Grammy awards a long time ago that Yoongi couldn’t bear to shove in a box. 

“I don’t think so,” he says. 

Namjoon looks crestfallen. “Well… okay. Alright… I guess… I guess I can go. Or can we go somewhere else?” 

“I have a meeting with…” And something dawns on Yoongi at that very second. “You. They’re your songs. You’re the one who asked for me.” 

“I did.” Namjoon nods, hands shoved in his pockets, just the right amount of sheepish. It pisses Yoongi off. How does Kim Namjoon have the audacity to think Yoongi owes him anything after everything they went through? After Namjoon left him… 

Yoongi scoffs. “Bold.” 

“Hyung…” 

“I can’t do this right now. I was having a good day, Namjoon.”

“And now you’re not. Because of me?”

“Wouldn’t be the first time.” Yoongi mutters it, but not quietly enough that Namjoon misses it. It’s catty and shitty and everything Yoongi has tried so hard not to be. It’s not who he wants to be, but seeing Namjoon in front of him just makes him so fucking mad. Like all of that hurt and sadness and feeling like he wasn’t good enough is just right there, taking a human form. A fucking gorgeous human form, because of course he is, because the universe isn’t fair enough to make him anything but the man of Yoongi’s dreams. It fucking sucks. 

“That’s not fair,” Namjoon says softly. 

“I don’t think you get to decide that.” 

Namjoon’s shoulders slump. “Fine. I deserve that,” he concedes. “But I really need your help with this one, hyung. I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t important. I know what a big deal this is.” And then he digs one of his toes into the carpet, twisting it around nervously. “I know I don’t deserve it. But I’m here, begging. You’re the only one who can make these songs right. I need you.” 

I need you. Those three words hang in the air between them. Namjoon’s face contorts as soon as they come out, like he knows there’s so much more meaning associated with them than he meant for there to be. He has to know that Yoongi has waited for years to hear those words from him. Fucking literal years. He’s had dreams about hearing Namjoon say those three words to him. And yet, now that it happens, he doesn’t feel anything he expected to feel. Not hope, not love, not even anger. It’s just hollow. 

“I need to think about it.” 

Namjoon pauses and sucks in a breath. “Okay, sure… That’s fair, yeah. Thank you. I mean, for even considering it. I know there’s a lot of… stuff here between us and… Well, I’m ready or willing to talk about it… Or whatever you want. If you’re ready, hyung. The ball’s in your court.” 

It takes a lot for Yoongi not to give a snarky reply. He knows it’s fair, more than fair. He doesn’t owe Namjoon anything, doesn’t owe him closure or support or his time. Where was Namjoon when Yoongi wanted to talk years ago? When Yoongi wanted to work through things? But he’s trying, really trying, to not feed his own negativity. So, instead of making things more awkward, he lets out a long breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and nods. “I’ll be in touch, Namjoon,” he says quietly before he shuts the door, leaving Namjoon on the other side. 

There’s something surreal about knowing Namjoon is right there, he thinks as he slumps against the door. Close enough to touch, and Yoongi has been thinking about that touch for years. Part of him is mad—over time, he’s run through a million scenarios in his head, what he would say when he ever had the chance to speak to Namjoon again. None of them had played out like this: more wistful than angry, more heartache than rage. He’s dreamt about giving Namjoon a piece of his mind, and still, given the chance, he couldn’t do it. Couldn’t bring himself to hurt Namjoon, not really. Doesn’t even think it would be worth it—nothing he could do to Namjoon would come close to hurting as much as what Namjoon did to him, so what’s the point? 

A while ago, if this had happened, Yoongi might have panicked. Now, he feels eerily calm about it. He does want to ask some questions, though, so he makes his way back to his desk and sends an email to Bang-PD, asking why he wouldn’t tell Yoongi that the mystery artist was Namjoon. It feels a little like a betrayal, and he wonders if anyone else knew. Did Jin know? Did Hoseok? Yoongi knows he and Namjoon are close. Maybe it doesn’t matter. If he hadn’t been blindsided, he wouldn’t have taken the meeting. So, perhaps, this was the only way to get them in front of each other. 

He leaves early that day, feeling a little shaken and more than a little confused about what he should do. 

So, he does nothing. He doesn’t go into the studio for the rest of the week, doesn’t call Jin, doesn’t leave the apartment except to walk Holly. He spends four days sort of frozen—reminiscing, thinking, trying to figure out the right next move. After four days of thinking and delivery chicken and self-admitted sulking, he pulls out the box. 

It’s a pretty morning in Seoul—the sun is soft in the deceptive way, where you could be tricked into thinking you can go outside without a jacket, but it’s hiding a bitter chill. Yoongi likes these mornings, not the cold, but the apricity—likes the way the pale, dissipated light filters through his living room. Likes the way the air smells when he cracks a window open, reminds him of stolen mornings with Namjoon at Naksan. Which reminds him of the box. 

It’s tucked in his guest room, hidden deep deep deep in the back of the closet under old equipment. It’s not big—it’s a shame or a wonder that you can fit ten years of memories into a 40x40x10 centimeter box, he can’t decide which. He hasn’t opened the box since he filled it, but he knows what’s inside. Everything that he needs to be reminded of Namjoon, including one particular picture he’s looking for. It’s halfway down in the stack of photographs and tickets and memories. Probably from 2014. In fact, he knows it’s from 2014 because Namjoon has that ridiculous hair, the swept back blond with the undercut that’s darker than dark. He’s standing on Naksan Beach, with the ocean on one side of him and the mountains of Seoraksan Park on the other and he looks like the love of Yoongi’s life.

Even then, back when they were young and scared and stupid, he looked radiant. Namjoon has always had this quality about him that Yoongi can’t resist—it’s magnetism, magic of some kind. Even when they fought and scrambled to survive and things were shit, there was no one Yoongi would rather have done that with than Namjoon. And that day, on the beach, before the real fame and the complication and the endless travel, he seemed perfect. Yoongi still remembers it—early summer, sneaking out of the dorms early in the morning without sleep, clambering into his shitty car, driving all the way to Seoraksan before Namjoon begged him to keep going to the beach, said he just needed to remember he was small, that he didn’t matter in the big big scope of the world, that everything would be okay. 

The sun rose on them as they pulled up, and Namjoon took his shoes off and ran to the sand as soon as the car was in park. Despite the sun, it was wickedly cold, but Namjoon didn’t even seem to notice. Head back, tan skin glowing, stupid haircut and all, and Yoongi’s only (terrifying) thought as he watched from the hood of the car was, “I’m so in love with him.” 

In his hand, the picture still feels like love. Feels like the day Yoongi handed his heart to a young blond boy from Ilsan in a quiet transaction. Namjoon smiles so wide you can barely see his eyes, his dimples are crater deep, and his palms are out wide—looks like he’s just trying to absorb all that sun and steal it, let it become him. Sometimes, back then, Yoongi was sure he’d figured out how, too. 

Certainly, at the very least, he stole something important from Yoongi that day. 

Nothing happened then, not between them, but it was a big day. The biggest. He took all those big feelings and shoved them into his chest and did what he thought was the right thing for the group, for him, especially for Namjoon. He didn’t know until later that Namjoon felt the same way, didn’t figure it out until they were in a hotel room in Osaka three years later, high off their world tour and finally alone for the first time in months. Yoongi lamented all the time they’d wasted not talking about how they felt, and Namjoon said that no moment with Yoongi could ever be a waste. And again, Yoongi’s thought was, “I’m so in love with you.” But that time, he said it out loud, and Namjoon said it back. 

He doesn’t realize he’s crying until a tear lands on the picture, right on Namjoon’s face, like the clouds opened up and dropped a bit of salty rain right there, Namjoon with his face titled, ready to receive it. It’s still precious, he wants to keep it, thinks he’ll save that picture until he dies, probably. It gets carefully wiped off on his soft hoodie and put back in the box, but this time, he puts it right on top. 

And when he puts the lid back on the box, it doesn’t feel at all as final as it had nine hundred days ago. 

***

On the weekend, he still has plans with Hiah, so he drags himself out of the house for the first time and meets her at a hole in the wall restaurant near Ehwa. It takes her all of five minutes to realize something’s up with Yoongi. 

“You can tell me,” she says after one of the women working there takes their order. 

“Tell you what?”

“You’re not subtle.”

He lets out a quiet laugh. “Sorry.” 

“Don’t be sorry.” Hiah takes his hand in hers on top of the small table. “Would talking help?”

“I’m not sure,” he says honestly. “I saw my ex this week.” 

“Namjoon,” she replies softly. It’s not a question. 

Yoongi nods. “Yeah… How’d you know?”

“Iseul told me. She thought I should know what I was getting into. A little more complicated between you two than a typical relationship, maybe.” 

He just hums in agreement. It’s true, and it’s a wild understatement. 

“How long has it been?” she asks. 

“Since we disbanded… So, about a month before it was announced if you were keeping up with it back then.” 

“I wasn’t,” Hiah says, “but it was hard to miss even for people like me who weren’t big fans.” 

Yoongi brings a hand to his heart in faux insult. “You weren’t a fan?”

This, at least, makes Hiah laugh. “Not really. But I wasn’t not one, either. If that means anything. And I’m a fan of you, now.” 

It makes his cheeks flush—Hiah is sweet. He’s a fan of hers, too. It should make him feel good that they have this mutual attraction, but instead he just feels kind of sick. He should be thinking about her, and instead he’s thinking about the box, about the pictures in it, and the boy in the pictures. About how the boy in the pictures became the man who stood in front of him at his studio the week before: beautiful, contrite, and small in a way Yoongi had never really seen before. 

So, when their food is in front of them and they’re settled in, instead of telling Hiah he feels the same way about her in return, he says, “I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”

Across from him, her expression doesn’t change. She takes a big piece of pork off the grill and wraps it in lettuce, chews it carefully and rolls her eyes back with pleasure just like Seokjin would. It’s funny, or would be anyway, but neither of them are laughing. 

“You’re not over him,” she says once she’s finished eating. 

“I don’t know if I am or not. That hasn’t changed. But I know that before, I really, really wanted to be.” 

Hiah gives him a smile he doesn’t deserve, understanding and more kind than his behavior warrants. “And now?”

“Now I’m not sure.” Yoongi takes a shot of soju and pours more for each of them. “I’m still hurt. But… I don’t know. I think he might be, too. And maybe I owe it to myself to find out why. Maybe I don’t and I’ll just get hurt more but…”

He trails off, but she picks it up for him. “But you were together for a long time and you need to know why it ended.”

“I think so. And I don’t feel right about this while that’s still hanging out there unfinished.” 

Hiah doesn’t placate him with a nod of agreement or a murmured “that’s okay”. It’s fine really, he doesn’t deserve her grace, he thinks. He certainly isn’t giving much to himself, and isn't proud of himself at this moment. He picks at the potato salad and tries to will himself out of this situation. It doesn’t work, of course. He’s always been an honest person. He knows he’s not ready, knows he’s probably going to hurt her or at least not be available emotionally if Namjoon is back in his life. Not at first anyway. 

“I think I get it,” she finally says. 

“I can’t do both things at once,” he adds. “Not well, anyway. Can’t get closure with him and give you what you need at the same time… It’s not fair, but I think I need this.” 

“As long as it’s for you and not for him,” Hiah says, with authority in her tone. It sounds like the advice of someone who has done this before. Someone who has been in his shoes. 

Yoongi doesn’t know what to say to that—doesn’t know if in the time that he’s been apart from Namjoon if he’s figured out what separates what’s for him and what’s for Namjoon. It used to always be interconnected, and he’d like to think it’s not that way anymore, but there’s a part of him that he thinks might never get over wanting to see Namjoon happy and secure. The same part of him that couldn’t tell Namjoon off the other day in the studio, the same part that still thinks of that day at Naksan as one of the best days of his life because Namjoon was happy, because he was giving Namjoon what he needed and that was enough. That’s always been enough; at least for Yoongi. 

But Hiah doesn’t need to know all that. So, Yoongi nods his agreement and makes a non-committal murmur over his bottle of beer. Tries his best to make it through dinner without feeling like he’s making another Namjoon-induced mistake, the kind he thought he was done making a long time ago. 

After a semi-awkward dinner, he turns down Hiah’s offer for coffee. She doesn’t owe him any kindness and he just wants to be alone with his thoughts again. They agree to stay friends, but it feels hollow, the kind of promise only made because both parties know the other won’t deliver. He might see her around, definitely wants to stay friendly, but can’t picture a future where Hiah pursues a friendship with him after he dumped her. He wouldn’t if he were in her shoes. He didn’t with Namjoon. 

It makes him want to scream, the way his traitorous brain relates everything back to Namjoon, every thought just seconds away from being connected to his past somehow. It feels like years of progress are reduced to nothing. He walks through the crisp night air and thinks he should go back to his therapist soon, thinks he’s probably actually going insane this time. 

The next day, he ignores his messages from Jin and Iseul, both asking why he’s broken up with Hiah, both not scolding but coming close enough that he doesn’t want to hear it. Both worried, he knows, Hiah’s probably told them that Namjoon had something to do with it and he’s sure Jin has thoughts about that. Honestly, though, he’s got no idea what they might be, because he and Jin have never talked about what happened with Namjoon—not out of the context of what happened with BTS, anyway. It’s actually one of the things Yoongi appreciates most about his hyung. One time, right when it happened, when it became abundantly clear to everyone that Yoongi and Namjoon were no longer sharing a car at the end of the work day, when Namjoon kept later than usual hours at the studio despite claiming he needed a break, when Jin caught Yoongi crying on the floor of one of the practice rooms at two in the morning… Then and only then did Jin ask. “Things are over, right?” 

Back then, Yoongi nodded through his tears and let his head slump onto Jin’s stupid shoulder when he took a seat on the floor beside him. 

Jin stayed quiet and just let Yoongi cry there until he didn’t have any more tears. And then finally, after a long stretch of silence, he poked Yoongi in the side and said, “Well, everything goes.” 

Yoongi looked up, ready to lose his shit completely, only to see Jin stifling a laugh. Sent Yoongi into laughter, too, and soon the two of them dissolved into a fit of giggles in the quiet city morning, laughing because one didn’t know what to say and laughing because the only alternative for the other was to cry again. 

“Thanks, hyung,” Yoongi said when they were done with hysterics and gathering all their stuff to leave. 

“We can talk if you want,” Jin replied. 

But they never did. So, Yoongi really doesn’t know what Jin ever made of the whole situation, doesn’t know if Namjoon and Jin ever talked about it, either. All this time, he’s made the assumption that Namjoon talked to someone about it, Hoseok probably, maybe Jimin, too. But he doesn’t really know. Doesn’t think he’s ever wanted to ask. 

His phone is a graveyard of missed calls, missed texts, and email waiting for responses, but he ignores it all in favor of sending one message in a long-dormant kakao chat. He shouldn’t send it, he knows better, he’s pretty confident this is going to end up in more therapy and more tears, and probably a lot of whisky consumption, but he can’t tell his heart to shut up. It’s always been as loud or louder than his brain. An advantage usually, but sometimes he’s his own worst enemy. 

It’s just a few words, but he can’t help but remember that’s more than Namjoon used to break his heart. 

We can start work on your album tomorrow at noon.

Yoongi doesn’t wait for a response—Namjoon will show up or he won’t, and Yoongi decided a long time ago that he deserved better than to wait around for someone who couldn’t make up their mind about him. The circumstances are different, but the principle is the same. He plugs his phone in and leaves it while he takes Holly for a walk. He hopes the fresh air will clear his mind, but knows it probably won’t.

***

There’s something like a loud crash against his studio door exactly at noon. If Namjoon is the same as he always was, he’s probably been standing out in the hallway worrying about how loud to knock or if he should knock at 11:59 or if 12:01 would be more polite.

“Come in,” he says, spinning around in his chair. 

There’s a soft thud and a groan. “Can’t.”

So, Yoongi gets up and opens the door for Namjoon, tries to push down the intrusive, cheesy thought that it’s a metaphor for something bigger. 

“Hi,” Namjoon says quietly. His hands are full, coffee in each one and a bag of takeout hanging from one of his wrists. He’s bundled up, mask still on, a fluff of dyed brown hair poking out from under his hoodie. 

“Hey.”

“I brought food. You haven’t eaten?”

“Not yet,” Yoongi admits. He doesn’t like that he’s still this kind of predictable to Namjoon, but he doesn’t want to lie either, and if Namjoon owes him a lot for what they went through, rice and kimchi is a good down payment. “Sit, and we can eat and go over some ideas for the album.” 

Namjoon lights up—Yoongi can see it even under his mask. “Sounds good,” he says, more calmly than he looks. 

They accomplish the first step; Namjoon sits on the small couch and his eyes dart around, probably trying to take in what’s changed since he was last in the room. Yoongi sits in his work chair across the coffee table and unpacks the food. It’s awkward. Awkward enough that they don’t quite make it to the second step: talking. Yoongi feels queasy, Namjoon looks like he is, and so they shove food in their mouths and avoid eye contact and the silence is simultaneously safe-feeling and painfully uncomfortable. 

Until Namjoon breaks it. 

“Are you sure you want to do this, hyung?”

Yoongi’s usually careful with his responses to questions like that, and takes time to choose his words. But he doesn’t have to this time. “No.” 

“Why are you, then?”

“I’m not sure, honestly. Curiosity, maybe?” It’s not quite the right word, but he can’t think of a succinct way to say that he needs to know why Namjoon stopped loving him, why he wasn’t good enough to stick around for. 

“Hmm…” Namjoon just murmurs, nothing coherent in response. It’s so terribly awkward, and Yoongi hates that they’re in this situation. He’s frustrated with himself for not being mad or angry, he’s frustrated with Namjoon for everything… But more than that, he wishes they could just be normal with each other. Just for a few hours. Just pretend like nothing ever happened and go back to 2014 when things were simple. He wishes they were at Naksan. 

“Do you remember the day we drove all the way to Naksan for the sunrise?” he blurts out. He regrets it immediately when he sees Namjoon freeze, chopsticks in midair, eyes wide. 

Then Namjoon nods, a cautious smile making it onto his face. “I do. That was a good day,” he says fondly. And then more quietly, he says, “That was the day I think I knew I loved you.”

And Yoongi doesn’t know what to say to that. Almost doesn’t believe it. It’s his turn to let his eyes go wider. “What?”

“Sure,” and Namjoon’s blushing now, bashful in a way that makes Yoongi’s heart feel like an instrument. “I remember thinking I was so lucky to have you in my life. So lucky that you would go out of your way to do something like that for me for no real reason other than that I wanted it.” He finally makes eye contact with Yoongi. “I remember thinking that it had to be what loving someone was; making sure they were happy. Putting them first. I felt so loved by you that day.” 

Yoongi swallows. They’d never talked about it, not once. Never had that, “when did you know?” conversation that he thinks most young couples probably have. 

“I would have done anything for you,” Yoongi replies. “That’s the day I realized that. That’s the day I knew I was in love with you, that I would choose you over me.” 

Namjoon’s face falls a little. He’s not frowning, but it’s the look he gets when he’s really considering something, when he’s trying to put the pieces of some puzzle together. “Is that why you’re doing this?” he asks. “I don’t want you to do this if it’s like that. I don’t want you to choose me over you, hyung.” 

He sounds a little desperate, a lot concerned. It’s not what Yoongi expected from him. Really, he’s not sure what he expected. Album talk, glossing over the past, asking about polite things like their military service, how their families are, what trouble their dogs are getting into… It wasn’t this. 

“I don’t think so,” Yoongi answers. 

“Good. If you’re sure.” 

Yoongi nods, still a little shaken up from their conversation, ready not to talk about it more. Which is ironic, because the whole reason he’s agreed to this is to get answers and now that he has Namjoon here, seemingly willing to give them, he can’t even bring himself to ask the questions.

“Let’s get to work, then.”

They do, and it’s still weird, and the air feels thick and sticky and uncomfortable between them, but the music helps. Yoongi outlines his ideas for each track, Namjoon scribbles in his notebook and hums along, chewing on the end of his pen in between writing notes. They don’t get to the lyrics yet, just Yoongi’s initial impressions and thoughts, and Namjoon promises to review everything and make some adjustments and let Yoongi make some of his own. It starts to feel a little more natural, working on music together, and Yoongi almost lets himself feel good about it, in his element. 

“I think what I really need to know is what you want to accomplish, you know?” he asks Namjoon as they start to wrap up for the evening. “What’s the message overall? And then, from there, we can get working on the individual tracks.” 

Namjoon stares at him for a beat too long, pen pinched between his lips. He drags it out slowly and taps the other end on his notebook—one of the same nervous habits he’s had since Yoongi can remember. 

“It’s a love letter, kind of,” he says. “Maybe more like an apology. I’m not entirely sure yet.” 

Yoongi tries not to throw up or yell or just storm out of his own studio. A love letter. Kim Namjoon dragged him into producing some sort of love letter to someone after everything they’ve been through, after all this time. It’s fucking unbelieveable. His head feels like it’s spinning around in his skull and his heart isn’t cooperating much better. But, much to his surprise, he keeps his voice steady and calm when he replies, thinks he schools his expression into something stoic. “And you think I’m the right person to help you with this?”

“You’re the only one, hyung.” 

And as much as Yoongi wants to tell him to fuck right off, something on Namjoon’s face doesn’t let him do that. He looks sad, hopeful, serious… Yoongi knows that for whatever reason, Namjoon means what he’s saying. And he may not like it, and it may drag up some shit that Yoongi’s been eager to keep to himself, but he may also get what he needs from this. If Namjoon’s so bent up over someone that he needs Yoongi to help him write an album of love letters to them, then he’s definitely moved on. And maybe he can help Yoongi move on, too. It’s dumb, but Yoongi’s always been a little dumb about Namjoon. 

“Okay.” He stands, walking toward the door to let Namjoon out. “Same time next week?” 

Namjoon’s voice is low and soft when he replies, a careful smile on his lips as he meets Yoongi at the door. “Thank you. You won’t regret this.” 

Yoongi wishes he could believe that. 

***

Whether it’s for better or worse, Namjoon was right. Yoongi doesn’t regret working with him on the album. There are times, of course, when things are tense, when the awkwardness between them seems to fill the room and threaten to suffocate him. But then one of them, somehow, lets the air out, and they move forward. 

And they work so well together—Yoongi wishes he could say he’d forgotten about that, but of course he hadn’t. He and Namjoon had always managed to sink into a familiar rhythm together when they were making music, and working on Namjoon’s album was proving no different. When they were caught up in a track, it was easy to forget that Yoongi was supposed to be hurt, that Namjoon had chosen to walk away, easy to forget that Yoongi still didn’t truly know why Namjoon was back. 

“Hyung!” The voice outside the door is unmistakable, and Namjoon and Yoongi both respond to it. 

“Come in,” they say in tandem before Namjoon seems to realize it’s not his studio to invite anyone into, and Yoongi realizes that maybe Namjoon’s been in closer contact with the other members than he’d known. 

Jungkook swings the door open, two coffees in hand, and freezes just inside the doorframe when he spots Namjoon sitting on the floor across from Yoongi with his lyrics notebook spread open on his lap. 

“Hyungs?”

“Hi, Jungkookie,” Namjoon says fondly. “How’ve you been?”

“Good… I’ve been good. Busy. I, uh… I wasn’t expecting to see you.” He tilts his chin to the drink carrier he’s holding. “I would’ve brought you one, too.” 

Namjoon just gives him a fond smile and lifts up the iced coffee he’s been nursing since dinner. “I’m okay, thank you.” 

Jungkook seems nervous, eyes darting between Namjoon and Yoongi, not knowing what to say or where to sit.

“Well, can I have the coffee, or what?” Yoongi teases.

It at least seems to shake Jungkook out of his shock. “Right! Yes, here you go.” After he hands the drink to Yoongi, he adds, “What are you two doing?” 

“Ah, working on Namjoon’s album.” 

This seems to be even more surprising to Jungkook than finding Namjoon in Yoongi’s studio. His eyes go a little wide and he turns to Namjoon, whispering, “You played it for him?” 

Namjoon’s cheeks flush and he scribbles in his notebook, pointedly not making eye contact with either of them. “Yeah,” he mumbles. “He’s helping me with the production.” 

“Oh…” Jungkook seems like he’s considering the idea pretty seriously. “And how’s that going?” He’s cautious sounding; like he’s trying to ask something else but can’t find (or doesn’t want to find) the right words. 

“Pretty good, I think,” Namjoon spits out quickly. “You know how it is with Yoongi and me.” 

“Boy, do I,” Jungkook says under his breath, probably not realizing he’s louder than he thinks he is. 

Yoongi feels a little lost, like they’re having a whole conversation that he’s not hearing, and he doesn’t know why Namjoon looks like he just got caught out doing something he shouldn’t. It makes him feel strange, like an outsider in his own studio with the idea that there’s something else going on. So, he interrupts them. “You’ve heard the songs, too?” he asks, head tilted up at Jungkook. 

“Oh, I… Yeah. Hyung played them for me a few months ago when he was trying to figure out what to do with them.” He pauses for a second, taking a drink of his coffee, and then finishes. “They’re pretty personal… I think the album will turn out well.” 

“Me too,” Yoongi agrees, and to his side, he practically hears Namjoon shrink under the praise, embarrassed probably, to be spoken about like he’s not in the room. 

“Well,” Jungkook says with a shrug, “I should go. I’m sure you two have a lot to talk about.” His smile brightens. “Or, maybe you already have if you’ve heard the so—” 

“Bye, Jungkook!” Namjoon practically shouts, too loud for the room. 

Yoongi definitely does not know what’s going on with these two, and he’s not sure he wants to. By the time they all agree to get together for dinner in the next couple weeks, and Jungkook is shuffled out of the studio with lots of confusing murmurs to Namjoon as he leaves about being proud of him, Yoongi feels lost—he’s missed something, but he’s not quite sure what. He’s replaying the last five minutes over and over in his head before Jungkook’s even to the elevator bank. 

“Still a strange kid,” he says as he sinks back into his chair. 

Namjoon never really responds, just nods into his notebook and hums noncommittally. 

***

Things, as they’re prone to do, finally come to a head a few weeks later. They’re in the studio, Namjoon recording a verse that hasn’t been sitting quite right with either of them. The more Yoongi hears it, though, the more he thinks it’s the lyrics that he’s taking issue with, not the delivery. 

He spits out a line about nights being as long as eternity, another about getting out his words and then feeling empty inside, and all Yoongi can think of is how much those lyrics feel like all the sad and lonely lines he’s been writing since Namjoon left. It makes something pull at his chest, makes a lump in his throat start to swell for some reason he can’t quite identify. If Namjoon keeps going, Yoongi might assuredly do something stupid, might cry in front of his ex or try and pull him into a moment too intimate for what they are to each other now. 

“Joon, can we take a break for a second? I want to talk about these lyrics.” 

“Sure, yeah.” Namjoon pulls his headphones off and sits on the couch with a bottle of water. “What’re you thinking?” 

He should have thought about this more, because now that he needs to say it, there’s no way to make it sound professional. Probably also no way to get Namjoon to drop it and put his headphones back on, so he’s a bit stuck. 

“Maybe I’m missing something,” he says, trying to be as careful as possible, “but this seems so sad for a love song. They all do, really. And I… Well, I just want to make sure it’s saying what you want it to say to whoever you want to say it to. If I’m being honest, right now it sounds like you just feel sorry for yourself and that’s… That’s okay if that’s what you want to say, but if I put myself in the shoes of whoever it is you’re dating, this might make me think you’re still thinking about someone else.” He takes a long pause and watches Namjoon carefully for any sort of reaction. There isn’t much of one, just a crease in his brow that only appears when he’s thinking about how to say something he’s thinking. Yoongi knows that look, it’s familiar in the same way as the lyrics they’re talking about now—it’s Namjoon’s alone, but Yoongi knows it in his soul because nothing used to belong to only one of them.

Then Namjoon speaks, and it’s so quiet, Yoongi barely hears him. “Not dating anyone… haven’t for a long time.” 

“Oh…” It takes Yoongi by surprise, because this whole time he’d been under the impression that Namjoon wrote this album for someone. Why write a love letter when you haven’t got anyone to write it to? 

“I am, for what it’s worth.” 

“You are what, Joon?”

Namjoon slides his fingers through his fringe and blows out a long breath, puffing his cheeks out. “Thinking about someone.” 

The twist of feelings in Yoongi’s chest is rough. Confusion, a little hope, a little anger, because if Namjoon doesn’t mean him, it would hurt too much to know there was someone after him that meant more. If Namjoon does mean him… That’s almost worse. He tries to be measured in his response. “Well, I think we all do that sometimes.” 

“Yeah… Maybe we do,” Namjoon agrees. Then more tentatively, he asks, “Do you?” 

“Do I still think about people I used to be with? Of course I do.”

“Do you still think about me?”

And there it is, the question he’s been simultaneously hoping to get and hoping to avoid. He’s thought a million times about what he would say if they ever actually spoke about this, about them. Now that they finally are, though, he feels dumbstruck. 

What he thinks is, every goddamn day. What he says is, “Yes, sometimes. You and I were…”

“Yeah,” Namjoon agrees. “We really were.” His voice just sounds like nostalgia, and Yoongi recognizes it in the way he’s been delivering these lyrics, choruses and verses bound with sadness and hope, a plea for absolution and to be loved. 

It’s a startling realization when he has it, but at the same time, he wonders if he should have seen this coming all along. Little pieces of information start to snap together in his head—Namjoon asking for him specifically to work on this, and on every song, which is unusual in their business… Jungkook being so strange, Namjoon himself being cagey about who the album was for, about why he was inspired to write these kinds of songs, too wistful even for him. 

“Who’d you write this for, Namjoon?” He’s firm in asking, not wanting to show how vulnerable he’s feeling, even though he’s asking for that vulnerability from Namjoon. 

“Hyung, I…”

“Just tell me, please.” 

Namjoon looks like he wants to sink into a hole, and Yoongi has no idea what Namjoon thought would happen, if he thought they could make this whole album and never have this conversation, or if he just thought he’d be able to control the timing and environment when they did. That would be classic Namjoon, thinking he has to plan out even his feelings so that they don’t pop up and inconvenience him. 

It’s soft when he says it, a whisper almost. “You. Of course it’s for you.” 

And Yoongi knew that, but having it confirmed sends him reeling. So he asks another question he’s not sure he wants the answer to. 

“Why?”

On the couch, curled in on himself and looking uncharacteristically scared, Namjoon stays quiet for a while. Feels like Yoongi might sit here until his bones brittle before he gets an answer. Feels like that might be okay, like he’s probably not ready for whatever Namjoon is going to say anyway. 

“Because you deserve an apology. You deserve to know that not one single day has gone by that I haven’t thought about you, about us… About how things ended when… when I didn’t even want them to. I have tried, hyung. I’ve tried to move on. And I can’t, you know? Feels like I lost everything and all this time I’ve been running trying to get it back, trying to fill some space in my heart that feels like a chasm and I… I just can’t do it. No matter what. It always comes back to you, and how we were—How good we were. I just…”

“You’re just selfish,” Yoongi interrupts.

Namjoon is crying now, glassy eyes filling and slowly spilling trickles down his cheeks. Was crying before he got called selfish, but now he’s crying and he looks like Yoongi just slapped him, surprise written across his face like a stain. 

“What?”

“Selfish. You heard me. You say I deserve an apology, and I do, but not like this. Not with some grand gesture bullshit. A whole fucking album, Namjoon? You could have called. Did you even think about me when you did this, really? Or did you think about needing to feel less guilty?”

“I tried at first… I called, left you messages you never returned… and then… I don’t know,” Namjoon says. He looks like the leaking tears might turn into something harsher at any moment. “I’m sorry… I’m so sorry.” 

Yoongi’s not sure why he says the next thing he does. Wants Namjoon to hurt a little, maybe. Doesn’t care anymore if Namjoon knows how much Yoongi’s still affected by him. “You know I was seeing someone when you came around?” 

“No… I didn’t know.”

“She was great, you know? Smart, funny, beautiful. She was good for me, too. And then you showed up, and just the faintest idea of you being back in my life… It made it impossible to keep seeing her. It wasn’t fair to her, to be trying to build something with her when I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Knowing you were going to be around… I couldn’t give my attention to her the way she deserved. After all this time…” 

It’s cruel, the way Yoongi saying he broke things off with Hiah puts this look on Namjoon’s face… One that’s part empathy and part anticipation. Cruel that he would give Yoongi the idea that they could be something again, cruel that he thinks that’s possible after what happened, after so much time has passed. Does he think so little of Yoongi that he thinks they can go back? Pretend like nothing happened? 

“You should go, Namjoon.” 

“Hyung…” It’s desperate when he says it, like he’ll take any crumb Yoongi will give. 

And equally as desperate, Yoongi replies, “Please, Joon. Just go.” He can’t let Namjoon see him cry, and it’s going to happen soon. He doesn’t even want to have these feelings, but especially not in front of Namjoon. Not when he doesn’t know yet exactly what they are or what they mean. 

Mercifully, Namjoon gets up to leave, packing his headphones and his notebook quickly, mumbling unwelcome apologies under his breath. Yoongi’s not sure he even knows what he’s apologizing for, still doesn’t think Namjoon really understands what happened between them or why it hurt so much. Certainly, Yoongi doesn’t begin to fathom why Namjoon seems like he was as damaged as Yoongi by the whole thing. Can’t understand what Namjoon said, that he didn’t want things to end with them. Because that day, he’d said plain as day, sitting them all at the big table in their old dorm, “I need a break from this.” 

Everyone knew what that meant—a break from BTS, from the pressure and the lack of privacy and the heavy weight of expectation. And Yoongi knew, too, that their relationship went hand in hand with that. More pressure, more secrets… Hiding is work, it’s exhausting, it looms over every moment, and once you get over the excitement of something illicit, the constant fear isn’t fun anymore. So, Yoongi gave Namjoon what he wanted: a break. No matter how painful it was, no matter how unloved it made him feel, no matter how much he wanted to call, text, touch… anything. 

As he leaves the studio, he turns to Yoongi one last time, tears still welling up but a little angry now, and says, “I wanted a break from the group, but you’re the one who took a break from us.” 

This time, it’s Yoongi who feels like he’s received a verbal slap in the face.

All that night and the next day, it’s the only thing Yoongi can think about. How can they possibly see things so differently? How can their perceptions be so starkly opposed? 

“Can we talk?” He says vaguely into the phone. 

“Are you okay?” 

“I don’t know,” he admits, voice breaking. “I’m not sure.”

Jin is at his apartment within the hour. It’s good, he knows, to have a friendship like this. Even when they’re both busy and on separate paths, that they’re still there for each other when it matters, that they carve out time to maintain their friendship of over a decade. There’s something so comforting about knowing someone cares for you as much as you care for them. There’s a quiet confidence in his relationship with Jin that’s hard to achieve with most people. 

“What’s going on with you?” Jin asks, fussing in the kitchen for whiskey and water and probably trying to find something to feed Yoongi, too. 

“Do you remember,” he starts, “that day when Namjoonie sat us all down and said he needed a break?”

Jin snorts out a laugh. “Of course I do. Our lives sort of changed that day.” 

He knows Jin isn’t laughing because it’s funny, more because it’s ridiculous to think any of them wouldn’t have the memory of that day imprinted on them… “What do you think he meant?”

The look he gets in return is part thoughtful, part surprised. “I think he meant he wanted a break, Yoongi. Not much gray area there.” 

“A break from what?”

He hums in consideration before he answers, “The pressure mostly, I think. We all needed it, all wanted it. He was just the first one to say it. It was a lot. To write songs we didn’t love, and for him to be the spokesperson, to not have time for his own creativity to bloom anymore.” 

“And?”

“And nothing, Yoongi. Sometimes people say what they mean. Namjoon usually says what he means.” 

“So… Did you think… Didn’t you think he wanted a break from me, too?”

Jin stares at him like he’s just said the most outlandish thing. “No. No, I never thought that. Did he tell you that?”

“Not exactly…”

“Oh, Yoongi…” The look of pity on Jin’s face is enough to make Yoongi want to vacate the planet, but instead, he just turns his eyes to the carpet and listens. “I think you and Namjoon should talk.” 

“Maybe,” Yoongi shrugs.

“I don’t think I have to tell you how ridiculous it is that the two of you might have given up years of being happy over something so…”

“Stupid?” 

Jin gives him a sympathetic smile. “Yeah, sorry to have to say it.” 

“Did you know? This whole time, did you know?”

There’s a long pause before Jin speaks again, and it’s fine. Yoongi knows it's a question that puts his friend in the middle—maybe makes him choose between honesty and loyalty. And aren’t those sort of the same thing anyway? 

“No. Not really. We never talked about it, you and me. And Joon is so…” Jin waves a hand around for emphasis. 

It’s clear what he means though. Some combination of smart, closed-off, quick to surrender. “He is, yeah…”

“He told me you weren’t taking his calls at first. Then when he enlisted… he told me he only regretted that you and he hadn’t found a way to talk through things. But he didn’t tell me what happened, not really. I assumed he said something without thinking, hurt your feelings, assumed you broke things off properly… But Yoongi, if you just… stopped speaking to him…”

It’s a little clearer now, in Yoongi’s head, what happened versus what he’s been telling himself. Namjoon got the group together, said he needed time to focus on himself, and Yoongi took that to the extreme, assumed the worst, let his biggest insecurities get the best of him. Maybe Namjoon did just mean a break from BTS. Maybe he didn’t mean a break from Yoongi. He had called a lot those first few days—left voicemails saying he knew he should have talked to Yoongi first, shouldn’t have blindsided him in a team meeting like that. Said he loved Yoongi and he was sorry. It’s so easy to see how what Yoongi thought he meant could have been wrong; how it could have just been taking things one step further than Namjoon was trying to take them. 

“Fuck.”

“Sounds about right.”

“I should talk to him.” 

“Couldn’t make things worse.” 

***

It’s been one thousand days since Namjoon broke his heart, and the thought and those words weigh heavy on his heart and feel thick on his tongue. One thousand. It’s ten one hundred days. It's been almost three years. It’s all the time that he’s been running in place trying to get his life back but always feeling a little off kilter. Jin was right—Yoongi needs to talk to Namjoon, needs to confirm his worst fears, that he made this happen, that he shut Namjoon out preemptively, before Namjoon could do it to him. That, contrary to what he’s been telling himself, it’s been one thousand days since he broke his own heart. 

Maybe the line between self-preservation and self-destruction is thinner than he’d ever thought. 

It’s difficult though, hard to swallow his pride and his nerves and pick up the phone. 

So, he doesn’t. He packs a bag and sends an email to work that he’ll be out for a few days and messages Jin to let him know he’ll be gone, too. When Jin asks him where, he just says he needs to go back to where things started. It’s vague enough that he knows Jin won’t track him down, probably thinks he means Nonhyeon-dong or Daegu. He wouldn’t know about Naksan. 

The drive is longer than he remembers, quieter without Namjoon beside him rambling about Murakami or Skinner or some other author that most people would have choked through in college but Namjoon read by choice. 

For the first time in a long time, he lets himself reminisce without trying to shut it down. He thinks about those drives: Namjoon reading out loud to him, Namjoon snoring in time with the rain beating down on Yoongi’s hood. Later, Namjoon sliding his fingers across Yoongi’s thigh and squeezing softly, his head thrown back and eyes scrunched closed with his smile in the passenger’s seat. Thinks about the first trip when he knew he loved Namjoon, thinks about the last one where they walked along the beach, Namjoon shirtless and glowing in the sun until Yoongi couldn’t stand not having him alone and dragged him back to their cottage. 

He’d love to say it wasn’t intentional, booking that same hanok again—the quiet, cozy cottage tucked in closer to the forest than the ocean—but of course it was. Really, he just didn’t know where else to go, and well… if he’s planning to think (wallow) he might as well do it right. 

When he pulls the car into the driveway, the cottage looks like it’s been stamped directly from his memory onto the landscape. It’s so funny how whenever it seems like everything in Yoongi’s life has changed, he somehow stumbles on the little things that remain the same. 

Walking through the hanok, he sees vignettes of his past playing out on the low walls, across the countertops, and all over the sofa and beds. 

Namjoon, sheepish, bringing a tray to the bed with something that vaguely resembles breakfast on it. Laughing when Yoongi runs a hand through his hair and tells him it’s the thought that counts. 

Later, Namjoon’s fucked out moans when Yoongi shows him exactly what he’d had in mind for breakfast instead, his tongue moving in languid circles around Namjoon’s rim, fingers pulling his cheeks apart to slip deeper and deeper. 

Sand covering the floor of the foyer as Namjoon panics because he didn’t realize he’d brought his new crab friend all the way back to the cottage. Yoongi in tears from laughter, Namjoon mortified at his potential animal abuse before making his way back to the beach to right his wrong.

The two of them, backs against the sofa and legs tangled at the ankles in front of them, arguing about the form of a song that would never even make it to an album. “Why don’t you just listen to hyung?” Yoongi says. 

Namjoon’s muttered response as he pouts because he knows he’s wrong but he’s argued too long to admit it now—always so stubborn. “Because it sounds better my way.”

Yoongi shutting him up with a soft kiss that doesn’t stay soft for long.

He stands in that living room today, swearing he can see the two of them still on the floor: argument forgotten, song abandoned, panting into each other’s mouths and slick with sweat as they came to an understanding in their own way. 

In the kitchen, he sees a golden-skinned Namjoon, perched on a barstool saying, “I love you so much I think I could drown in it,” as he watches Yoongi make him a sandwich. “Love you so big I can’t breathe around it sometimes,” he adds as an explanation as he twists his t-shirt around in his fist right above his ribcage. Sucks the air right out of Yoongi’s lungs, too, with the way Namjoon is looking at him. 

All that for a sandwich. 

Neither of them knew then what they know now—neither of them knew that they would drown in it, but that they’d also be the other’s fresh air, until the day the ugliest parts of their self-doubt snuffed it out like a spent cigarette.

Yoongi knows one thing: he’s barely been in that hanok for an hour and he needs to get out. 

It should be easy to distract himself that day—he walks along the beach and only thinks about Namjoon a little bit. He runs to the closest store and gets some essentials for the next few days: whiskey, pork, rice, kimchi… He grabs what he needs to make jajangmyeon, too, even if he doesn’t like it all that well anymore. It’s just that it’s Namjoon’s favorite and Yoongi used to make it for him all every time they came to the hanok—slurping cold noodles together in the yard and drinking cheap beer until they were so full they both complained they’d never be able to move again. Then somehow finding the energy to move when Namjoon looks at Yoongi through his eyelashes in his best approximation of coy and says he should probably properly thank his hyung for the meal. 

It should be easy, but it’s so very difficult to distract himself from thoughts of what used to be, he thinks woefully as he tries not to get hard in the market. 

That night, he puts on a movie and eats quietly on the couch. He doesn’t return the missed calls he has from Jin, but he decides he likely will in the morning when his thoughts start to run away from him again. For now, it’s easier to be on his own—easier to worry silently over if this whole painful three years was a terrible misunderstanding, whether or not he took away his own happiness instead of letting someone else do that for him. 

Neither is good, but one makes him feel so so so much worse. 

***

There’s low, buzzy thrumming through his head when he wakes in the morning. There’s an ache in his shoulder that matches it—dull and persistent… He should know better than to fall asleep on the sofa like this. Warm beams of sunlight make the hanok feel a little stifling—he gets up to open some windows, lets the swift, salty breeze off the sea take away some of the stuffiness in the room. 

Over coffee, he pulls his notebook out of his bag. He hasn’t touched it in ages, hasn’t thought about it much in between work and Namjoon. But it’s just as he left it, full of the words that he’s been afraid to turn into reality, too sad, too true, too much of his life on display. But knowing that things may not have (probably didn’t) actually happen the way he always told himself they did, the words take on a different temperament. 

While it sits worse with him that he might have at least partially put himself in this position, it also seems easier to let it go. Seems like he needs to, like it’s time. People always say it’s hardest to forgive yourself, but Yoongi’s had a lot of experience with that. He knows he’s bound to betray himself at times, he knows he’ll do things that are stupid or reckless or thoughtless. It’s been harder for him to forgive Namjoon because he never thought Namjoon would take him for granted, never imagined Namjoon would hurt him in a significant way. Yoongi might hurt himself as a part-time job, but Namjoon treated him like something precious—cautious and sweet, kind and compassionate. Namjoon was more graceful with Yoongi in their time together than Yoongi could ever imagine being with himself back then. Before he and Namjoon even got together, he promised himself he wouldn’t look back on his mistakes as such anymore—they’re just him. He did his best, he’ll do better in the future. 

It’s not easy to forgive yourself, but he’s practiced at it. 

So, he sits with his coffee in the sunlight and lets those words breathe the sea air with him, gives them life, makes them real, and tries his best to start giving himself the grace he knows he deserves. 

***

The day passes like that, Yoongi writing furiously, ignoring the cramps in his hands and the crick in his neck. When it’s nearly golden hour, Yoongi’s stomach rumbles and breaks his concentration for the first time. 

It occurs to him that he’s strayed from his routine for the first time in a long time, and it feels surprisingly good. His heart is splayed out on the pages in front of him, and his stomach is painfully empty, but he is more full inside than he has been in three years. It’s not over, he knows he has to talk to Namjoon, knows there’s still forgiveness he needs to extend and receive in that relationship to really find some closure, but he’s far more equipped to do that now than he was when he arrived, certainly more than when he forced Namjoon out of his studio days prior. 

When he goes back to Seoul, Namjoon’s will be the first number he dials, he promises that to himself while he grabs some fruit to stick in his pocket and leaves the hanok to spend at least a few minutes out of the house before sunset. 

Outside, he can see a storm coming over the sea. There’s still time, but the sunlight is filtered in stripes through thickening clouds. It’s hazy and low, perfect for photos, but ominous for the small number of families Yoongi sees trudging toward him, away from the beach, weaving around him as he carefully makes his way down the path toward the ocean. 

When he reaches the sand, the incoming storm has shooed enough people away that it’s nearly unoccupied. Rare for any place in Korea, but welcome. Yoongi likes being able to walk undisturbed, likes the sound of the waves giving a rhythm to his steps, likes to see if he can pattern his breath to match when they hit the shore. It makes music in its own way, and as he walks, he thinks about the songs he worked on that day, about what it might sound like to give a Pacific Ocean backbeat to some of the more hopeful of the lyrics he’s finished. 

Ahead of him, someone sits in the sand facing the sea, knees pulled up to their chest and what looks like a backpack next to them. It looks like a man, although Yoongi’s far enough away he still can’t make out any of their details, not really. The folded body looks like it’s probably long when stretched out, but it’s curled in on itself as if whoever owns those long limbs is trying to coil them inward and gather some momentum from them. 

Yoongi feels a twinge of empathy—something about their posture makes him think they’re gathering courage just like he is. He wonders what it is they have to do that they’re afraid of. Wonders if they’ve felt the freedom of finally putting words to their turbulent thoughts. 

He’s probably reading too much into a man sitting on the beach. 

He gets closer, and the person must hear him—their gaze finally breaks from the water and they turn their head in his direction. 

It’s silly—Yoongi laughs silently at himself for thinking this guy looks like Namjoon. He’s spent too many hours shut in the hanok, too much time hunched over his notebook thinking about the past. 

But then, the man stands up and plants himself in the sand, facing Yoongi, and runs a hand through his marine-air mussed brown hair. 

“I knew you’d be here,” the man says... Namjoon says. 

It’s enough to make Yoongi stop in his tracks, he tries to rationalize, tries to think of any possible reason his brain would actually hallucinate Namjoon standing on this beach talking to him in a perfect imitation of his deep voice. 

“Jin told me you were going away for a while. He said he didn’t know where, but that you told him it was ‘back where things started’. So, I figured…” Namjoon’s nervous, his words trail off into the breeze. Yoongi’s still in shock, maybe, unable to move. 

“Why are you here?” he asks softly. He can’t decide if it’s lucky or unlucky that the wind blows toward Namjoon, carrying his words along with it. They’re harsh, but his tone isn’t, it’s soft like the sand, the rocks in his heart already smoothed over more than he’d like to admit. 

Namjoon gives him a one-sided grin that’s just as soft in return. “Wasn’t going to make the same mistake twice,” he says as he takes a couple cautious steps toward Yoongi. 

“I don’t know what that means, Joon.” 

“You said I didn’t try back then. I could have tried so much harder. I should have—you were right. I should have stood in front of you and made you listen, made you hear that you were the last thing I needed space from.”

Yoongi doesn’t know what to say to that—of all the ways he pictured his next conversation with Namjoon panning out, this wasn’t one of them. The wind is picking up around them, and so is Yoongi’s heartbeat and the speed with which Namjoon’s speaking. 

“Hyung, I’m going to try this time. I’m here to try.” His dimple is gone, but the smile has been replaced with Yoongi’s favorite of Namjoon’s looks. It’s fierce determination—youthful and reckless and exactly the way he was when Yoongi started loving him (and a lot of things change, but oh, all the small things that stay the same, he thinks in a flash). 

“I wanted a break from the group, but not from you. I wanted a break from that so that I could focus on me and what I wanted, but what I wanted was you. I wanted us to have a future, I wanted us to have time. We never had time… We deserved that.” 

The storm is there now, and Yoongi can’t tell if the salt water on his cheeks is ocean spray or tears. Doesn’t think it matters either way, still doesn’t have the words to respond to Namjoon, still wishes they could have had this conversation years ago, still can’t separate the hurt from the fear from the love. 

Rain starts, the sky splitting open above them as Namjoon watches, waits for Yoongi to respond. There’s water everywhere, and everything is overflowing and Yoongi thinks he must have wasted every good syllable he ever had writing lyrics today because he doesn’t know a goddamn thing anymore except this: he fell in love with a boy on the beach once, and he’s pretty sure he never ever once stopped loving him. 

When Yoongi moves, it’s like the lightning that’s streaking across the sky above them. Namjoon’s eyes fly open when Yoongi’s arms fling around him, and he’s finally just as speechless as Yoongi when their lips meet. It’s rain-soaked and cold but Namjoon’s lips are warm and his arms around Yoongi are home and when he finally kisses Yoongi back it’s like drowning all over again. 

They stay like that until Yoongi can’t feel his fingertips and Namjoon’s shivering into each slide of Yoongi’s tongue against his. When they pull apart, Yoongi’s found a few words, so he just repeats them into Namjoon’s soaked hoodie. “I’m sorry, let’s talk… I’m so sorry…” 

And Namjoon holds his jaw carefully, thumbs wiping raindrops off Yoongi’s cheeks but losing the battle against the clouds, whispers back, “I’m sorry too, I never stopped loving you… Please, Yoongi, please…” 

Their icy fingers are threaded together as they scramble back to the hanok. Sometime as they run along the beach, Yoongi realizes he doesn’t even know how Namjoon got there, doesn’t care really, but maybe someone’s waiting for him or expecting him… 

“Joon-ah!” he calls over his shoulder, into the wind, realizing he never actually asked the question. “Do you want to come over and talk?” 

Namjoon’s smile is bright enough to break the storm, and he looks like love with his wet hair stuck on his face, water flowing down his cheekbones like waterslides to his lips. “I’ve been waiting for you to ask for so long,” he says, squeezing Yoongi’s hand in his. 

Jin’s car is in the driveway of the hanok, and it’s running, and the window opens just a crack when the pair rushes up through the yard. “You need me to stay, Namjoonie?”

“No, hyung, thank you… I don’t think so.” He turns to Yoongi, and it’s obviously a question: can I stay? Are we going to fix this? Do you want this?

Yoongi’s not sure what he expected, but Jin in his driveway after apparently driving Namjoon three hours there wasn’t it. He nods his head in agreement and mouths a “thank you” to Jin as he pulls Namjoon a little closer. The rain’s slowing, but they’re soaked and shivering and Jin has a long drive back to Seoul if that’s indeed where he’s going, so they wave and keep moving toward the house, peeling off shoes and hoodies as they enter. They see Jin flash his lights as he backs out, and Yoongi makes a mental note to buy Jin all the meat in Seoul when he gets back for what he’s done today.

They don’t really talk until they’re inside, dripping onto the foyer floor, Namjoon looking around curiously. Yoongi wonders if he’s trying to see how much has changed, wonders if he has the same film highlight reel of their greatest moments there playing across his field of vision as Yoongi did a day ago. 

“Let me get you a towel and some dry clothes,” he says. 

When Namjoon emerges from the hanok’s bathroom a few moments later, hair now half-wet and fuzzy from the towel drying, he’s wearing a pair of Yoongi’s sweatpants—comically short and not even covering his ankle bones. 

It’s a stupid thing, probably, the way that Yoongi loves his ankles. Namjoon is big, that isn’t a secret, and he’s especially large in comparison to Yoongi. But his ankles are so delicate, tendon narrow and bone sharp against his maple wood skin. For years, Yoongi’s admired them, how they keep Namjoon’s long frame so (mostly) steady—they’re a miracle of physics and a good parallel for Namjoon as a person. Larger than life and painfully delicate at the same time. 

“You’re staring,” Namjoon notes, drawing Yoongi’s attention away from his lower half. 

“Those pants look stupid on you,” is all Yoongi says in return, and he doesn’t even mean it. Namjoon can probably tell; the words are delivered with a specific fondness that he doubts has been forgotten. 

“I’d say that means I should take them off then, but maybe we should talk, instead.” 

That’s a consideration, certainly. Kissing in the sand, Yoongi hadn’t let his thoughts get that far. Should they talk? Doesn’t he want to? Yes, and eventually, but mostly he wants to get that feeling back—the one of Namjoon’s thick bottom lip on his, the one of Namjoon’s arms holding him firm and insistent against a broad chest. 

“I missed you.” 

“I missed you too, hyung. All the time and every day.” 

“I think I know that now,” Yoongi admits quietly. 

Namjoon gives him a hint of a grin in return, but it’s not an entirely happy one. “I wrote you letters,” he says. “Once a month. Never got brave enough to send them, though. Turned them into all those songs, instead.” Yoongi sits on the sofa while Namjoon speaks, and he pats the spot next to him in encouragement. 

“I never knew you were so sad, Namjoonie…” 

“No one asked,” he shrugs. “Don’t blame them… Things were hard for a while and that was mostly my fault. I know that. I guess Jungkook did once, though. That’s when I showed him all the lyrics.” Namjoon laughs, mostly to himself. “He cried for like an hour after he read them. He’s always been so soft.”

“They are pretty sad,” Yoongi agrees.

“I have another track for it. One with a little more hope. Haven’t been able to get it quite right—didn’t feel the right way inside to finish it, I think. But maybe…” He trails off, eyes lifting from where he’s been staring at the rain outside to look at Yoongi. “Maybe I could finish it now.” 

And there is so much they need to talk about, so much to resolve, to hash out, to work through. This morning, Yoongi was just thinking they might be able to salvage a friendship, and now it’s confusing and bigger and all he can focus on his Namjoon’s lips on his and how nice nice nice it felt and how safe safe safe he would be with Namjoon if he just let himself forgive—let himself forget. 

Just for a while, he thinks. 

“Just for tonight,” he says, “maybe we can not talk…” 

“Can I kiss you again?” Namjoon asks.

Yoongi doesn’t answer, just scoots himself forward until he can fit Namjoon’s jaw in his hands and his thumbs on those pretty pretty cheekbones and presses his lips careful careful quiet (but not nervous) to Namjoon’s. 

They both hum into the kiss, Namjoon’s deep like a moan and Yoongi’s with the higher pitch of relief and release. Letting go of all the nerves and the fear and breaking everything down to the basest of parts: lips and tongue and teeth and hearts and he swears he can feel Namjoon’s beating steady like the waves and right in time with Yoongi’s. 

They’ve always had the same rhythm. 

It’s like that for a while—time feels fake because Yoongi thinks they must have been kissing for years, they must have never been apart. It gets messier and deeper and more intense as they kiss, and somehow he ends up in Namjoon’s lap with his fingers twisted in damp hair, pulling Namjoon as close as he can. Namjoon’s long fingers are teasing along his back, light touches under Yoongi’s shirt, moving across the back of his hip bones in a way that’s driving him wild, pricking up goosebumps on the thin skin there and daring to skim his waistband every now and then. It’s a question unspoken and one that they both already know the answer to. 

“Take me to the bedroom,” he breathes against Namjoon’s lips. It’s not a request, not really. 

Namjoon nods furiously, out of breath and flushed as he lifts them both from the couch at the same time in a display of strength that makes Yoongi’s insides tumble and twist. 

They kiss their way down the hall, and Namjoon’s still clumsy in the precise way Yoongi remembers—his pointy elbows bump into the drywall to keep Yoongi from taking the hit and his teeth tug on Yoongi’s lips as he licks and groans into Yoongi’s mouth.

It’s an eternity before they make it to the bed—feels like the kind of forever Yoongi wants when Namjoon lays him down in the middle of the mattress and slowly pulls his joggers and briefs off. 

“You’re so fucking pretty, hyung.” It comes in an exhale and Yoongi feels just as breathless when his mostly-hard cock bounces against his own pelvic bone. 

“Did you forget?” He teases Namjoon instead of giving away quite how affected he is (beyond the obvious). “Used to tell me all the time, remember?”

Namjoon wraps a hand around Yoongi’s cock and strokes slowly, still looks surprised to be there, surprised Yoongi’s naked under him. “Didn’t forget… Pretty skin, so smooth and perfect. Pretty face,” he says fondly. “Pretty cock, too.” He squeezes around the shaft at that and leans over to kiss Yoongi again, tongue insistent and just as skilled as Yoongi remembers.

Yoongi’s already lost in it—it’s a little dry and a little less confident than he thinks Namjoon used to be, but it’s still so good. Namjoon thumbs over his slit and with his other hand, he swirls around Yoongi’s balls just the way he likes and it’s all so much. Unfair, Yoongi thinks, that Namjoon’s still not naked, but Yoongi doesn’t even think he can open his eyes anymore, so maybe it doesn’t matter. 

“You still with me?” Namjoon whispers into his ear, teeth tugging gently at his earlobe and then lips moving down the column of his neck to tease at the thin skin there. 

“Yeah, yeah Joonie… I’m here. Feels so good. You’re so good for hyung.” 

Namjoon sounds like he might cry, voice cracking when he replies, “I missed this so much… Missed you.” 

When Yoongi opens his eyes, Namjoon’s eyes are glassy, his pupils are blown and he’s got love and lust written in ee cummings trickles across the planes of his face. It’s a look Yoongi never thought he��d see again, makes him feel wanted and proud and so fucking turned on he might pass out before he comes. 

“Want to feel you, Namjoon,” he whispers. “Please… need to see you.” 

Namjoon kisses him lazy and deep before he sits on his knees and yanks his (Yoongi’s) shirt off with a hand behind his back. His body has changed—Yoongi can see all the soft spots gone a little firmer since his enlistment. His chest looks wider and more filled out, his abs are more defined… The way Yoongi’s sweatpants sit low on his hips is beyond indecent. He can almost hear himself swallow his arousal. 

“I think I look a little different than last time,” Namjoon says in the most absurd understatement Yoongi’s heard this month. He looks bashful, and Yoongi can’t possibly think of what Namjoon would have to be ashamed of—he thinks he’s perfect. 

“I think you look perfect,” he mumbles. It changes Namjoon’s bashful smile into a smug one as he climbs off the bed and pulls Yoongi’s sweats off. His back is to Yoongi, and it’s a view he’s seen more times than he can count, but it’s still as good as the very first time. 

“You still keep lube in your bag when you travel?” Namjoon asks, throwing Yoongi a look over his shoulder. “In the small pocket?”

Yoongi nods, a little embarrassed to be known like this, a little awkward since it’s been so long since he’s been with Namjoon like this. He wonders, briefly, if anything’s changed about what Namjoon likes, wonders if he’ll still know how to make him come untouched. Wonders if Namjoon’s as predictable still as he seems to find Yoongi to be. Wants that, and also wants the small thrill of discovering all the new things, too. 

Namjoon gets back on the bed and Yoongi moves to make room when Namjoon taps on his hip to scoot him over. He’s always been like this, a little bossy, a little quiet until he’s got something brushing his prostate—then he’s pliant, talkative, a bumbly mess in the best way. Filth spills from his lips but it never makes much sense, just fragments of feelings and always a little bit of desperate pleading mixed in, always wanting more and deeper and harder. 

When Yoongi scoots down the bed and sits on his knees, expecting to slick up his own fingers and work Namjoon open slowly the way he likes, he gets his first surprise. Namjoon’s on his back with a pillow under his hips and he’s already two fingers deep, cheeks pink with a sheen of sweat on his forehead and staring right at Yoongi. 

It takes a lot of self-restraint not to try and slide one of his own fingers in alongside the two already there. “Oh, Joonie… You look so good like this, opening yourself up for hyung.”

“Want to be good for you,” Namjoon says, a little whiny. “Think about you all the time when I do this. Always you…” 

The angle’s all wrong, Yoongi knows it can’t feel great on his wrist, but then he sees the moment Namjoon finds the spot he’s been looking for—Namjoon’s eyes roll back in his head and he lets out a groan that sounds a lot like, “Yoongi,” and Yoongi has to kiss him. 

He pushes Namjoon’s hair off of his forehead and presses their lips together, slides his tongue across Namjoon’s and then pulls away to whisper praise into his ear—tells him he’s a good boy, he’s so pretty, he’s doing so well, Yoongi can’t wait to be inside him. 

They kiss slow and heavy, Yoongi’s dick is pressed up against Namjoon’s hip, and as Namjoon works a third finger in himself and moans long, Yoongi moves in little grinding motions against him—can’t help himself, needs just a little relief while he waits for Namjoon to be ready for him. He’s not huge, but Namjoon’s always needed a good amount of prep and they both like this part, like the anticipation and the teasing and the kissing. 

“I’m ready,” Namjoon says, voice shaky. “Need you to fuck me now… Please,” he adds. 

Always so polite while he makes Yoongi lose his mind. 

Yoongi sits up, makes a point of mouthing along Namjoon’s cock before he goes—it’s nothing too intense, just wet and open lips across Namjoon’s length, a little swirl of his tongue around the crown that makes Namjoon whine loudly and repeat himself. “Please, hyung… Please, I need it…” 

“Okay, yeah…Want to take care of you,” Yoongi agrees. He finds the condom Namjoon had left on the bed earlier and rolls it on, then sets himself between Namjoon’s thighs. He pauses then, because in movies, this is the moment when everything changes. When sex makes the feelings irreversible, sets two people on a path that they can’t walk backward along. Whatever he and Namjoon have isn’t a movie, it’s absolutely no fairytale, and even if Yoongi never slides into Namjoon’s tight heat, things will have changed between them. So, there’s nothing to lose, not really, and he’ll get the whole fucking world, he decides when he looks in Namjoon’s eyes, if things keep changing for the better.

Before, they weren’t careful and slow. Before, when Namjoon said he was ready, Yoongi would believe him and give him everything all at once. It was always deep and deeper and fast. But this time, he takes his time sliding into Namjoon. Wants to remember this, wants to document each still frame in case this is the last time. It’s something he’s always regretted about before, that he took their last time for granted. 

Or, what he thought would be the last time, anyway. 

“Oh, holy shit,” Namjoon sighs as Yoongi’s tip enters him. It’s followed by that mumbling, slurred rambling that Yoongi’s missed so much. It’s a mess of, “feels so good… hyung, please… fuck me, please” but never comes out coherent like that and Yoongi bends over to kiss the words right out of his mouth. When their lips part, Namjoon whispers, “Please hurry...” in the most desperate voice Yoongi thinks he’s ever heard.

“You’re so tight, Namjoon, give me a second… Feels too good, don’t want to come already.” 

Namjoon’s coherent enough to smile at that, his lips so close to Yoongi’s still that it’s almost as much a feeling as it is a sight. 

Finally, finally, Yoongi works all the way in, his hips flush with Namjoon’s skin. He pauses for a minute, finds one of Namjoon’s hands and tangles their fingers together at their sides, and then he pulls out halfway and thrusts back in. 

“Oh my god,” Namjoon groans. “Don’t stop, please…” 

And Yoongi doesn’t. Keeps licking the curses out of Namjoon’s mouth and pushes one of his thighs back further so he can get the right angle. When he starts hitting Namjoon’s prostate on every thrust, he feels Namjoon’s fingers tighten around his, feels him moan into Yoongi’s mouth, sees the tears gather in the corners of his eyes. 

“You’re so good, Namjoonie, feel so good around my cock.” 

“I’m so close, hyung,” he whines, follows it with a little begging, just like always, greedy for more. 

“Are you gonna come for me,” Yoongi asks. “Just like this?” 

Namjoon can only nod because Yoongi’s picked up his pace, curves his back so he can get one of Namjoon’s nipples in his mouth, teases and nips at the skin there and makes Namjoon absolutely keen underneath him. 

This is what Yoongi remembers, the almost nonstop, “Please, please, please… wanna come, hyung,” that Namjoon’s repeating. 

“Yeah, come on, baby, want to see you,” he agrees, out of breath and so enamored all over again. 

Yoongi lets go of Namjoon’s thigh and runs just the tip of a finger along Namjoon’s cock—that’s all it takes. Namjoon lets out a long moan and then he’s coming, body tightening around Yoongi and cum streaked across his own stomach before he goes lax and loose. 

“Want you to come, hyung,” he says, and it comes out a little raspy and foggy, and Yoongi loves him like this. 

Loves him. 

“Fuck, I love you… Love you, Namjoon.” 

Namjoon wraps long arms around Yoongi’s shoulders and pulls him closer. “Love you so much, hyung.” 

And that’s what does it for Yoongi. He gives a couple of staccato thrusts into Namjoon and then he’s spilling into the condom and trying not to collapse down on top of the man underneath him. 

They’re kissing again, drawn out and soft, and they stay that way until they can’t really anymore, Yoongi slipping out of Namjoon and disposing of the condom while Namjoon closes his eyes and wipes leaking tears out of his eyes. 

In the bathroom, Yoongi grabs a washcloth and looks in the mirror. He doesn’t look any different than he did this morning, but he feels like he’s been reborn a little. It’s dangerous to feel this hopeful, but it’s a hell of a lot more interesting than feeling so sad. 

He cleans Namjoon as best he can, and gets water for both of them before climbing back into bed. 

“We should talk tomorrow,” he says as he pulls Namjoon tight against him and presses a kiss to his shoulder. 

“Yeah, we’ll talk tomorrow… Need to talk,” Namjoon agrees sleepily. 

“Go to sleep, Namjoonie.” Fond, fond, fond. 

“G’night, hyung.” 

Namjoon’s asleep before he can say it back. 

Yoongi lays in the dark bedroom and he holds Namjoon tight, and sleep evades him. There’s so much unsaid, so much they really do need to figure out. They can’t just pretend the last three years didn’t happen, and there’s so much Yoongi wants to know, so much he wants to tell Namjoon, too. 

But it’s late, and he’s tired, and Namjoon’s already started snoring, so it will wait. They will sleep, and in the morning, they’ll walk this new path together and this time, Yoongi will say what he means and ask questions and get all the information before he decides what someone else is thinking on their behalf. If Namjoon can try, he can, too. 

They both deserve at least that much. 

It’s been less than one day since he let Namjoon back into his life, and the last thing he thinks before he slips into sleep is that for once, he might not still be counting the days when he wakes up in the morning. 

#yoongi x namjoon #yoongi fic #namjoon fic #yoongi imagine #namjoon imagine #bts fanfic #bts smut #yoongi smut #namjoon smut #bts writing #kvanity #btshoneyhive #btswritersclub

[smudgedshadows]

Compulsion & Innocence

🥀 namjoon x yoongi 🥀 oneshot, 21.9k words 🥀 strangers to lovers 🥀 dark romance au 🥀 beta read by @neoneunnajimin

Obsession feels like too blasé of a word to describe the gnawing, insatiable need that aches in the pit of Yoongi’s belly – that whooshes through his bloodstream whenever he lays his eyes on his latest target. It feels too hollow, too cliché – a word that has lost all its meaning.  But how else does one describe the preoccupation, the desire for subjugation; the deep, feral lust that wakes him in a cold sweat and threatens to drive him mad. Yoongi has seen beauty before, but not like this. Never like this.  It isn’t supposed to happen this way.  Yoongi has it down to a science. Capture, torment, kill, dispose. Rinse and repeat. Quick and dirty. Nothing personal, nothing sexual, just a release of frenetic energy and the pleasure of feeling like a god among men.

🥀 read on ao3!

#yoongi x namjoon #namgi #yoongi smut #namjoon smut #bts smut #bts dark romance

[phenomenalgirl9]

Min Yoongi x Reader: The Eternal Prince

🎂💜HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOONGI 🎉🎁

A/n: The whole concept was brought from my head, I was originally gonna make this a vampire story, but I didn't. I am so glad I could take part in this writers colab with so many other talented writers. Find the Masterlist here.

Summary: Everyone heard of the Prince who got curse to be a beast for being too proud of his beauty, ever heard of the Prince who got cursed to have a frozen heart because he was cold? But, only one thing can thaw the ice in his heart, love. And only one person can give it to him, Y/n, will he be able to save her this time round? This time round, will his heart thaw?

Wc: 10.2k

----------------------------------------------------

"Yoongi!!"

"Yoongi......~"

"YOONGIIIII~!"

He jolted up from his sleep, sitting up taking deep breaths, his whole body covered in beads of sweat. The voice still faint in his head, like every other night. Having the same recurring nightmare isn't easy specially if that last a century long. But this night was different, this dream was different from the previous other nights.

Truth is, every night he saw it, the same nightmare, over and over again, of how he lost her. However, a few times before he'd have this different dream, one similar to that one he had today, walking through a dense forest, hearing his name being called among the fogs as he tried his best to keep following it. The voice, he knows it so well, he keeps trying to catch it but it keeps slipping away.

"Fuck" he cursed to himself, this ominous feeling, he knew all too well what's about to happen and he hopes he's ready for it.

So he calls him, his most trusted person.

"Hello Boss?"

"It's on" he says, the one one the other side of the call knowing very well as to what's going on and what he needs to do next.

----------------------------------------------------

"Y/n" you heard a voice call you.

"Y/n.." you heard it again.

"Wake up!" You heard and then suddenly you felt a gush of cold. What the fuck?, You thought, and jolted up in a sitting position, only to find your best friend standing infront of your bed with a smirk on his face and an empty tumbler in his hand as you saw hin run away the moment he saw you wake up.

"PARK JIMIN!!!!!!!!" you shouted

"Bitch stop complaining I helped you, now you won't have to take a shower!" He shouted as you chased him around your shared apartment. Finally giving up you sat down on a chair as Jimin came to stand infront of you and say "Seriously? 19 years and you still can't catch me. Why do you even try" he says almost mocking you "Anyways don't you have an interview today?"

You nodded "Yeah, I was quite nervous, I could not sleep all night"

"I know, I heard you playing music when I woke up for water in the middle of the night" he said.

"Then why did you wake me like that!" You asked throwing him a punch but missing

"Cause it's fun" he said "Now get up, I called you early enough so you can ponder over what to wear and how to style up for a good 45 mins." And with that he walked to the kitchen.

You knew Park Jimin, since when you both were in diapers, his parents and yours being neighbours all their life. His father Park Chanyeol was a very good friend of your father. Going through school and then college together, he's always been your constant. Be it a failed test or a bad break up, he was always there for you to pick up the pieces, and so were you for him.

You took a shower and quickly looked up picking what to wear, taking a good ten minutes to decide and finally showing it to Jimin and getting his approval.

"Were those beige shoes you bought last month, they'll go great with them, but if your gonna wear that ug scarf, might as well wear crocs" he suggested. Yes, your bestfriend had the best fashion sense and a huge sass, yes he's gay af. As if on que you saw Jackson walk out of his bedroom,Jimin placed three plates on the counter and filled each with beacon and eggs and a glass of orange juice.

"Thanks babe" Jackson said as he kissed him on his cheek and saud "Good morning Y/n, ready for the interview"

"I don't know, it's MYG's, I really want to get this one" you said.

"You will, don't worry okay" Jimin said stuffing some eggs in his mouth "You'll rock the interview"

After getting a hug and all the bests from your bestfriend and his boyfriend you walk out of hour house and drove your car to the address they gave you for the interview.

MYG's one of the most well known and huge company, rather a business empire run by hereditary business tycoon Kim Namjoon. They literally have subsidiary companies in everything and you don't even know how they got hold of your profile, but this was a huge opportunity for you since you graduated 2 years ago. Being a PR for the mother company would be a great deal and that's the post you were offered if you were to pass this interview.

You parked your car and entered the building. Wah, you sighed, everything looked so modern and stylish. You walked up to the receptionist and asked "Hello, I'm here for an interview"

"May I know your name?" She asked

"Y/n L/n" you said

"Ah sure, please go down the corridor on the right and take the elevator to the 12th floor, you'll be guided from there" she said with a bright smile.

You smiled and mumbled a thank you and she threw an All the best and you went through the way she told you. As soon as the elevator dinged and the door opened to the 12th floor, you found a very handsome man who welcomed you as you left the elevator.

"Ms. L/n I presume?" He asked and you nodded "I'm Kim Taehyung, HR manager and brother of CEO Kim. Come this way" he said leading you through a specific door and inside you found two other men sitting. One you recognised as CEO Kim but the other. The man with porcelain skin and the most beautiful face you have ever seen, he looked vaguely familiar but you can't really remember from where. You found his eyes on you, that kinda made you feel intimidated, his piercing gaze seemed to bore into your soul and read even your deepest secrets and desires. However, for some reason he resembles a cat.

"Do you have a copy of your resume?" Kim Taehyung asked.

"Yes" you said and looked into you bag and took out your file. Only to find that your copy of resume wasn't in it.

"I'm so sorry I-" you paused, you were sure you put everything inside yesterday night before you went to sleep.

"Not even into the job and already careless?" The guy with porcelain skin asked

"I'm so sorry, sir" you said bowing

"It's alright Ms. L/n, mistakes happen" CEO Kim said and opened a laptop "We have all the soft copies here"

Soon, they started to ask you questions about your life and you kept answering them correctly. Then they started asking situational questions and the two Kims actually seemed to be getting impressed by your answers. However, the Cat guy seemed to have it out for you. Every time you gave an answer he kept countering with more questions, trying his best to find loopholes in the answers. However, in the end CEO Kim said "Ok that's all. I think we got everything we needed. You can wait downstairs, we'll get back to you"

As you left you looked at the Cat guy who almost sent a glare your way before he joined in the hushed discussion that had already started in hushed tones.

You waited for around 20 minutes in the lobby, when you found Mr. Kim walking towards you with an envelope and an adorable boxy smile. He stepped up in front of you and said "Congratulations"

"Oh my god! Oh my god! Thank you Mr. Kim" you said taking the envelope.

"Oh. Just Taehyung is fine" he said "If you have any questions you can come to me"

"Can I ask one now?" You asked

"Sure"

"Um... Who was the third guy there in the interview, the one with the porcelain skin?" You asked

"Oh that's Director Min, you'll be working under him" he said

"Wah, doesn't seem like he liked me" you said scratching your head.

"Oh, don't worry, he doesn't like many people, out front. But if you get to know him, you'll know he's a softy" he said with a smile, and you tried your best to smile back.

----------------------------------------------------

You punched in the code eagerly, and found the two on the couch.

"You're back!?" Jimin asked

"Guess who works for MYG~" you sung

"No way!" Jimin cursed and looked shocked but rushed to hug you "Congratulations" even though you noticed how he got shocked but didn't care too much at that moment.

You were excited for your first day and were sure you'd do your best.

And hence the day came, you got ready and made double sure that everything was in your bag, that was when you found that your ID card wasn't in it. You rushed to your room to find it on the dresser, strange, you were sure you put it in the bag but hurriedly you put it on and rushed to your car.

You were ready in your seat well before time, right when the shift starts a pretty woman walked up to you and introduced herself as Kim Jennie.

"You're the CEO's sibling?" You blurted out

"Yes" she said with a bright smile and went on to explain your duties and you had to report to Director Min directly. As if on cue you watched him walk in and everybody including you greeted him.

"You, newbie" he pointed at you, "In my office, now" he said in a cold tone, and rushed to his cabin. You followed him.

"I don't like waiting or late reports" he said the moment you entered.

"Yes sir" you said.

"You run into an issue, mess up, get stuck, have any doubts, you come to me? Clear?" He said sternly

"Like crystal sir" you said

"I'm mailing you 4 files, sort them out before lunch, you may leave" he said. You immediately turned and left. Once out of the door you released a breath you didn't know you were holding.

"He really said that?!" Taehyung said laughing so hard he almost fell off the chair.

"Oh he can be scary" Jungkook who had the seat beside you and was now having lunch with you and Taehyung said. You got to know that Taehyung and Jungkook were childhood friends. Suddenly, you heard your name being called and turned to find Jennie.

"Mr. Min is calling for you, urgently" she said.

"And this is just day 1" Jungkook muttered.

You went back and into his cabin and asked "You called sir?"

"Yes, I thought I told you to be careful with the report, there was an error in the 3rd file" he said turning his laptop screen towards you.

"That's not possible I triple checked it" you said

"Well you checked wrong. This better not happen again. Go" he said.

----------------------------------------------------

(time skip brought to you by Suga's gummy smile)

"It's been six months? Already?" Jennie said

"This needs to be celebrated!" Jungkook suggested.

Yes, it has been six months since you started working at MYG. Director Min had worked you through and through every working hour of these 6 months. You learnt that he is a cold human and was actually friends with nobody to a level where nobody knew his first name. However, your two colleagues Jennie and Jungkook and superior plus friend Taehyung help you survive the days. Hence, the four of you decided to grab some drinks after work.

"Cheers to reports" you said

"And Director Min screaming at you" Jennie added with a wierd giggle. It was the fifth round and damn was this girl a mess, though you'd lie if you'd say you don't feel tingly yourself, you're beyond tipsy and hence, you giggle back,

"Man he hates me" you say "But you know its strange how he's able to find flaws even when I know there were none" you say pouting "but he's so cute" you said lying your head down on the table.

"Cute? Director Min? Cute? Omo. You've wasted your brain" Jungkook said also giggling

"I can't remember where I have seen him though, I'm quite sure I have seen him. Where?" You said very lightly "Why does my heart hurt when I try to remember where" in whispers to only yourself

"It'll come soon" you heard Taehyung mumble.

"Okay! I think we should leave, we still have work tomorrow, remember?" You said and watched as the rest of them gathered their things. And walked out with them, you put Jennie and Taehyung in a cab and Jungkook to climb into one, where you parted ways. The night was nice and your apartment was nearby so you decided to walk the rest of the way. You were glad you did though, the wind felt so nice against your face, it was refreshing.

That was until you found two sketchy guys eyeing you from the other side of the sidewalk. You tried to seem unfazed and walk, a few cars were passing through the street, but none went at a speed where they'd notice the sidewalk. You sent a prayer that you'd be safe when you heard one call.

"What's woman like you doing alone at night?" One of them said walking to you. Both were dressed in black.

You kept walking.

"Hey where are you going doll?" The other asked

"Why don't we have some fun?" 1st one said and grabbed your hand.

"Let. Me. Go" you said in gritted theeth

"ooh! A fiesty one" the second said

"What would you do if I do not?" The one grabbing your wrist said, you could swear you saw his eyes glowing green for a fraction of a moment. You felt your feet freeze where they were even your tongue felt heavy. Did you drink something?

"Cat got your tongue?" The second one said, inching closer.

"I think the lady said to unhand her" you heard a cold voice, but damn was that voice familiar.

And he was swift, he simply grabbed the man's hand and the guy started screaming, the other ran away as the first one cowered in from of him. Until he let go and the man ran for the hills.

"Are you all right?" He asked

"Yes sir" you said rubbing your wrist.

"Come let me drop you" Yoongi said and you just followed him.

"I stay near by" you mumbled

"And your point?" He asked. You just shook your head and climbed into the passenger seat.

He suddenly came very close to you, you heart almost skipped a beat and you were about to say something when he pulled the seat belt and attached it to the side. So he was attaching the seat belt? Why did your heart go wild for a moment? Is it the alcohol? Must be the alcohol, you decided. Your eyes went to the mirror and it stayed stunned at the back seat. Theres a box and a very familiar box but like always you can't remember where you've seen it. You looked at Yoongi but decided to stay quiet.

When you reached home, Yoongi literally walked you to your door. You punched in the password and walked in and locked. Yoongi took a long breath and walked away.

----------------------------------------------------

"Didn't I tell you to be careful when you opted to befriend her" Yoongi spoke through the phone.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have gotten drunk" was heard from the other side.

"Thank God, I was passing by Taehyung, do you realise what could have happened? I can't do the same thing again!" Yoongi said his voice almost sounded.

"I know. You just found her" Taehyung said.

----------------------------------------------------

"You rode with your boss?!" Jimin said.

"Why didn't you call us to get you from the bar?" Jackson asked

"I figured you guys must be tired and it was really close so I wanted to walk" you said sheepishly.

"Thank God, you're safe. Come lets eat, the breakfast is getting cold" Jimin said sighing.

The day was uneventful, you never brought up that incident, but strangely everytime you looked at Mr. Min you felt some type of way and that box he had, why does it seem familiar to you? It looks quite old now that you notice it sitting on his cabin couch.

"What are you looking at?" The cold voice asked.

"No nothing" you said and tried to scurry away but on your way to the door you felt dizzy and lost your balance.

"Careful" Mr. Min said and rushed to your aid.

[A/n: (y/n) is your nick name]

"(y/n) are you okay?" Mr. Min exclaimed his stoic face in vissible panic.

"Wha-what did you call me?" You asked

"Y/n. Y/n" he said as he helped you up and moved to the couch. And you looked into his eyes, and a name left your lips. You've never heard of it before, you don't know who it is. But you knew now its him.

"Yoongi"

Yoongi's eyes went in shock as you broke into a fits of coughing, you lungs were on fire and you felt like you throat was filling up with water. Like someone was pushing you underwater. You felt the cabin fade away and the scenery changing.

Your body fell limp on Yoongi's arms that were trembling. He waited 120 years without you, and now that you're here. You're in danger again.

----------------------------------------------------

You couldn't breathe, the water was rushing inside your systems, but you couldn't pull yourself up, the force on your neck was too much. But suddenly they pulled you and almost threw you aside.

"Hey are you okay?" A voice said. No its not from any of them.

You couldn't speak so you shook your head a no. You rubbed your eyes and finally looked up to find a pretty boy with golden locks. Your eyes widened in realisation and you bowed.

"Prince!"

"No, no, please don't bow. It's okay. I'm sorry about my cousins" he said, referring to the guys that were bullying you previously.

"Please don't apologise, it's okay" you said.

"But I feel bad" he said, suddenly you see him set down, a long "something" wrapped in a cloth, that you were noticing now, in the ground and sat down in front of it. He untied the ribbons to reveal an instrument, a guqin.

"I'll play something for you" he said with a gummy smile. You sat up straight.

"This should also make you feel better" he said as you nodded. Soon the air filled with the sweet sound of the strings. The music soothed your nerves and brain, as you closed your eyes.

You opened your eyes to see a meadow and the very known blonde boy, but now a bit grown up sat.

"You called me so urgently what happened?" You asked looking at his beautiful face, with the eye path on his right eye.

"I completed the song" he said

"Who could think the great heir of the Min Dynasty, makes love songs for his lover" you said as you caressed his cheek. You sat down comfortably facing him. As he started plucking at the chords.

(this is what he played)

You kept listening to the melody, almost getting lost in them. Yoongi was never good with words. So he used music and right now, this music told you everything. His love and longing for you. His want, and how he feels a pull towards you. He made you a song.

"It's so beautiful. What did you name it?" You asked. "I haven't" he said with the gummy smile.

Years pass, as the two of you grow closer and dearer. Yoongi got marriage proposals from far away lands but he never gave in. "The Queen summoned me today" you told Yoongi as you combed through his hair, it was his order that nobody but you are supposed to touch his hair since he started growing it. You combed through his golden locks as he motioned you to continue "Please meet with the Princess of Ilbon" you told him.

As he sat back down you restarted your work on his hair, him watching you through the mirror, to others he was the cold Prince Min Yoongi, but to you he was just Yoongi, your Yoongi. There was a knock and you opened to see the broad shouldered friend and employee of Yoongi. "Sire, your mother wants to see you, she seems unwell" said Kim Seokjin. The Kims have been serving the Mins since the start of the Min dynasty, but the relationship between Seokjin and Yoongi was more like friends than Master and Servant. "Is she finding herself ill again?" Yoongi asked. "Well, that's what she told me, not like she looked the part if you asked me" Seokjin said, while bowing his head to greet you as you did the same.

"What?! Y/n? You know I won't" he said, "Why?" You asked. Yes, you did, even though you knew the answer, he just gave you a look "Yoongi, you can't hold onto that, we were kids, It's okay. Do what's good for the kingdom" you said. "HOW CAN YOU SAY THAT A FOREIGNER WOULD BE GOOD FOR THE KINGDOM?!" he asked, you flinched at his tone, he instantly felt bad for shouting at you. "Your mother said You're his friend, make him understand what's good for him and the kingdom, so here I am" you said. "I am the future ruler, I decide what's good for me and my kingdom, I will soon be on the throne and I will change the royalty for matrimony rule, abolish it once and for all" he said, and stood up, his hair cascading his face now, as he turned around those feline looking eyes now set on you, you'd lie if you'd say they don't set a sort of fire inside you "You. Are. Not. My. Friend" he said as he took a step with every word while you were mesmerized in your place. He walked close, almost too close, your hands now on his chest "If I marry someone what would you do? Marry someone else too?" He asked. You felt his arms snake around your waist and with one tug now you stood against him chest to chest "Would you let him touch you the way I DO? Would you let another man get this close to you?" His eyes were sharp, and he looked like he could see through you down to your soul, it was intimidating yet comforting in a strange way. "Words, (y/n)" he said, you blushed at the name he gave you, only he ever called you that. "I could never" you whispered, "Neither could I and I wouldn't let that happen. Do you trust me?" He asked as you nodded "Then wait for me" he said, brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face "I will make you mine and I will be yours" he said and pulled you closer with adoration in his eyes.

Yoongi soon became king, after his mom declared that she was 'too ill' to continue to shoulder the kingdom. After some months of his reign, Yoongi declared his decision to abolish the Royalty for Matrimony rule, you saw him less than you used to and sometimes you didn't see him for weeks, but you still had him in your heart. You'd still see him in the mornings to do his hair on the days he was in the castle. Then, after his long travels when he came back and you massaged his scalp and helped him wash his hair and take care of it. Sometimes you had these lazy evenings when he would order to not disturb him for the rest of the night. You'd sit and stare at him as he would play his guqin. It was a sight to watch Yoongi with his flowy blond hair in a low ponytail, sitting patiently playing the instrument he loved the most for the person he loved the most. The same man who is called fearsome and heartless by so many around him. One would say so if they saw him in business. How after some gruesome debates and a few dates of discussion he did it, he got the ministers on board and made his mother acknowledge the abolition of the Royalty for Matrimony rule.

Every nobleman and minister were eager to set someone from their family up with Yoongi. Meanwhile Yoongi was unwilling to even see anybody else, he raised your station in the household, he was told nobody was to order you around except him, the other housekeepers even though were jealous never stepped out of line. You had told him not to suddenly jump into deciding to marry you else the court will say he bent rules for his advantage. It was around this time she came into your life. That day, you were just passing by the fields carrying fresh flowers for the King's bed chambers. As you passed by the training field you could feel eyes on you and you looked to find no other than the feline-like eyes of the king himself on you, following every move of yours. Seokjin noticed that from afar and smiled to himself, his poor friend and sire just couldn't keep to himself when it came to you. You enter the castle to see the prettiest woman enter the castle doors with two maids. "Hello? Can I help you?" You had asked, "I'm here to meet the king and give him my greetings, from the House of the Parks" she said "I'm Park Jihyo" she said. You bowed to her and said "Follow me this way madam, the king will be informed of your arrival" you said.

You sent off some maids to inform Yoongi and took Jihyo to the sitting lounge. You looked at her, she was so pretty, and charismatic there was something strange about her though, you couldn't put your finger on what, you knew by the name that she's the eldest of the Park household, then again the Parks were always secretive, you knew most of the noble men were scared of her father Park Jinyoung but, you never knew why.

Yoongi soon came in, his hair a bit damp with sweat, his long sword in his hand, he walked into the room, and handed you his sword, his eyes lingering on you for sometime before greeting Park Jihyo. She brought a letter from her father, that Yoongi read and then said "Sure, you are welcome to stay in the castle as long as you need" he said and motioned Seokjin to perform accordingly, Jihyo was about to say something but Yoongi had said "So I'll leave you in Seokjin's care" and walked off motioning you to follow.

When you entered his room he closed and locked the door, "Did she give you off vibes?" He asked and you nodded and said "Don't all the Parks do?" You say. "Seokjin keeps telling me these rumours of the eldest of the family having what powers" he says "She'll be staying for a few weeks and her father requested if I sheltered her in the castle he'll be rest assured. You stay aware of her okay?” he walked to you and held you by your shoulders. "I'll be fine" you assured him, "I know, my queen" he said kissing your cheek, instantly heating your face up. "(y/n)" Yoongi proceeded to say in your ears as he wrapped his arms around your waist and you did the same around his torso. He brought his face painfully close to yours "Don't you have kingly duties to tend to? Sire?" You asked. "Fuck them, they can wait" he said and attached his lips to yours, the kiss wasn't hurried or hungry it was lovely and passionate. Yoongi wasn't one for much skinship but it were these rare moments that you enjoyed the most when he couldn't seem to get enough of your touch. His tongue brushed against your lower lip as you granted him entrance. Your hands intertwined behind his neck as you pulled him closer. His hands did the same, due to lack of contact with your skin but that had to do right now cause the two of you could hear the knocks from the door.

_____________________________________

Slowly, you remembered all, all the rejected and disregarded advances Jihyo made on Yoongi. Her coy eyes towards him that you always were somehow afraid of, but Yoongi paid no heed. Until that night, the night of his birthday, the night he decided he will announce his relationship with you to the court and his decision to marry you. The small gala with the closest people of the King and the royal family was going well, Yoongi was supposed to say all that before the feast however as the guests moved to the dining hall, Jihyo who was missing for the rest of the evening was seen. Strange, you had thought she must have gone home after the rejection she faced the previous day when she professed her love to Yoongi.

You noticed something shining in her hand and saw the way she was marching forward toward Yoongi, without thinking twice at the final moment you launched yourself between Jihyo and Yoongi shielding him from the dagger, it entered you gut and you felt the sheer pain in your stomach "NO! IT WAS MY seth-salm for YOONGI! YOU IDIOT" Jihyo screamed and stomped as you felt the dagger suck on your life. You held onto the ivory dagger with intricate design to pull it out, it felt like it was burning your insides.

"Y-y-y/n?! Y/N! (y/n)! NO NO NO NO NO" Yoongi rushed to hold you onto his lap, as tears stung his eyes. Seokjin immediately siezed Jihyo at the edge of his blade.

"So it's her? For whom you rejected me in cold blood?! So what if she took your curse for you! " She immediately held unto the blade Seokjin was pointed at her and cut her hand and dripped blood from it and said "I Park Jihyo curse you with the frozen heart. You will live on and watch her die again and again" she said.

"WHAT ARE YOU SAYING?! WHAT'S WRONG WITH YOU AND YOUR TWISTED MIND!? Y/N!" Yoongi screamed. Just like that Jihyo had vanished among the crowd as Seokjin took one glance toward Yoongi with you on his lap. He commanded the guards to be alert and called for the healer.

"(y/n), (y/n), please please stay awake, you will be alright" he told you. "Yoo-Yoongi" you said and placed your already cold hand on his cheek "I'm too tired Yoongi, I'm so sorry. Live on, be good, maybe in our next life we-we will..." You couldn't complete it. Your lymph body cold and lifeless was lying on his lap, his clothes and hands red with your blood.

_____________________________________

The scene shifted, this was a century later. You remembered this day, when you first saw Yoongi again. You were immediately drawn to that traveller, the glaces he gave you. How he looked at you like someone who hasn't seen someone dear in ages when you first talked to him to take his order at your father's inn. The traveler had something long wrapped in cloth tied to his back, you remember watching him play this long looking string instrument one night by the window.

It all came to you, how he had saved you from some ferals at night one time, how he had rushed to check if you were hurt. And then the rush of adrenaline and the memories. You remembered how you had remembered your previous life. Tears had welled into your eyes as you had hugged him when you woke up. You remembered how he and his companion Kim Jongin had explained to you whatever they had found out in their journey.

"Seth- salm the curse of 3 lives, you get three lives and if you don't find what you were set into the curse for your soul will disintegrate. Here, Park Jihyo had set in 'falling in love' as the curse. She cursed me with a frozen heart and only true love can thaw that, for me to be able to get old. Which I wanna do with you this time" he said holding your hand.

The universe gave you a second chance, you felt, even with all these twisted curses though. You knew this man and you knew you loved him, even though love doesn't come that easily. And you did, the two of you fell in love again, you had kissed a couple of times too but the curse never seemed to break. But, you spent more time together, he barely left your side, he played his guqin for you. You remember, getting a custom made box for it so that he doesn't have to wrap it and tie it and could simply carry the Guqin with him. You had personally drawn the designs on it then got your trusty cousin Jung Hoseok to carve it for you.

It felt like something was missing in the whole equation so, Yoongi had to travel and find the answers with Jongin. He left his brother Kim Seungmin as he said that there were "dangers". Indeed having Seungmin was a help he helped around in the inn and fended off this hooded old woman that came up and pestered you from time to time.

One night you remember waiting outside the inn, for the arrival of your lover. When you notice that old woman again, Seungmin was about to shoo her off when an overgrown man hit him in the back and he dropped in pain. Then the old woman revealed her face, whom you expected to be old was actually a disguise. That face, you knew that face too well. By the time Yoongi had arrived he found you, your family lying lifeless only Seungmin was left who informed them what happened.

_____________________________________

Yoongi was driven by rage and despair again after centuries he tried it, he tried to slit his throat but no matter how deep the cut, it healed up. He couldn't bleed to death, get sick or die. He was stuck in life, in a life without you. He was irresponsible and he lost you again. What is he gonna do without you. How is he gonna live, he could try to find Jihyo but it's been useless, he never found her, even after all these decades of searching. It was futile to search for her if she didn't want to be found.

"Live on, be good" always echoed in his head

_____________________________________

Back to present day

Your eyes fluttered open, you were in a luxurious looking room, you saw Yoongi sitting at the far end of the bed reading an ancient looking book. You recognised the cover, it was yours, you had a habit of writing poetry in your second life, he still had it?

"You still have it I see" was what you said, and he looked at you with mixed feelings of love and concern bubbling inside of him "I still have everything you ever gave me" he replied. "I can see", you say eyeing the long box that you had been finding familiar. You look around and spot the hanging charm you had made for Yoongi for his birthday in your first life, you had given it to him the morning of the day you died. That hair pin you gave him on your 3 years anniversary in your second life.

"How do you feel?" He asked, slowly walking closer to you, but the previous look in his eyes shifted away.

"I feel like I was run by a bulldozer" you said, touching the bridge of your nose. You looked at him, his hair now pitch black, you liked the original blonde more though, you wish you could remember how running your hand through them felt like. You tried to reach out for his hair but he flinched, you felt stupid now. "Listen you're in this situation because of me, I'll do my best to break your curse or at least keep you safe in this life. Outside that you're not entitled to anything Y/n" his answer was cold, making you feel chilly to the bone. Why?

The Yoongi in your memories was so warm towards you then what's wrong with him now. You didn't notice when he left the room and Director Kim Namjoon had entered. "Do you need to call someone?” he asked. "Huh?" You were puzzled for a moment, you tried to gather back your thoughts and said "Yes, my friend Jimin, he would be worried sick. I need to go home" you said. "Why? You're safer here" he stated, which was true but you haven't really ever faced anything there. "I'm safe in my home too, I think I've overstayed my welcome" you said as you stood up, finding your shoes and wearing them, you put your hand out and said "My things?"you asked, and he signalled you towards the couch.

"Good night, Y/n" he said as you left the car. All this was too much information. What are you supposed to do? Maybe look through the internet or find some books? Gosh how did your life take this turn? If you didn't succeed this time your soul would disintegrate, would it hurt? Would you cease to exist?

You checked your phone to find 3 missed calls from your mom, 2 from dad and 5 from Jimin, and like a 15 texts from the same 3 and Jennie, gosh this guy is more worried than your parents. You texted him that you'd be home soon and looked beside you at Kim Namjoon's side view as he drove. The words rung in your head 'The Kims have been serving the Mins since the Min dynasty's beginning' so that means the Kim siblings are actually Yoongi's employees, and MYG, Min Yoongi. "Don't think too much" you heard Namjoon say, "He's just hurt, he's afraid to lose you and be the only one left behind, again" he said. And you realised why he was cold to you, he didn't want to get attached again. "The woman Park Jihyo, what is she?" You asked. "She and her family were something like satanists, there have been rumours for a long time that she sacrificed the heart of her father to gain immortality" he said. "Is that true?" You asked, remembering her face that was ected into your mind. "Well, she IS still alive" Namjoon said with a shrug. "Did you find out why the curse didn't break the last time?" You asked, only for Namjoon to shake his head "We never found that out, well Mr. Min said that your....ahem... Acts of love weren't enough but we have no clue what more is there to it. The only person who could have known her father was soon killed after you died, the first time."

"So you live with 2 men?" Namjoon asked curiously, strange. "Technically, I live with Jimin, and Jackson is his boyfriend who has his own place but stays at ours like a homeless brut. Jimin and I have been friends since we were children" you told him about your friendship. He smiled and said "It's good to have a dependable friend" With this he pulled in front of your building's gate.

You returned home to a worried Jimin and told him you were just drenched in work. You looked up the things you learnt on the internet. The 'Min dynasty', 'their rulers', you found out how King Min Yoongi had stepped down after the death of his lover and passed the throne to his cousin leading to the fall of the Mins eventually. 'Park Jihyo' nothing found. 'The castle' that is still supposed to be there but nobody can enter as it's in a privately protected area guarded by wild dogs. 'Curses', 'Act of love' 'Breaking curses'. You literally made notes, you tried to find out more about the later topics even though most of the information you found could only be considered for a grain of salt.

The next few days were usual, you went to the office and returned home. Yoongi was as cold as ever, he rarely even looked at you if it wasn't for any need, let alone talk to you. He didn't even find mistakes in your reports like before.

_____________________________________

"Where were you?" Jackson asked from the couch as you entered the apartment. "Where's Jimin?" You asked. "He left hours ago, something about someone needing help, his mom?" He said. Jimin's mom? You didn't remember her much for some reason, she was rarely around, she worked abroad was what you knew, he hardly spoke about her. 'Is she back in town?' you thought and were about to ask but your phone rang, you were sure to see Jimin but were shocked to see the name flashing.

'Jungkook'

Why would he call you at this hour, you nodded towards Jackson and walked towards your room, "Hello, Jungkook?" You spoke. "Hey, Y/n, are you home yet?" He asked. "Yeah I just came in, why?" You asked. "I needed you to process 2 emails, they were urgent so I thought I'd call you up" he said. "Send them over and I'll process them" you said, and he hung up the call. You were contemplating if you should wash up first or check your laptop, when you heard the doorbell go off. It's probably Jimin you thought, but why would he ring the bell?, "Jackson? Is it Jimin?" You walked to your door only to find Jackson on the ground, collapsed and the door wide open. "WHO IS IT?" you asked as you grabbed your phone, and slowly walked towards Jackson, you could see him breathing so he was probably just knocked out.

Suddenly, you felt a heavy hit at the back of your head. You slipped and fell forward, "Aww I'm so sorry Y/n-ie." You heard a familiar voice.

"Ju- Juh-Jung-Jungkook?" You asked, your felt darkness creep into your vision and mind. Is this how you die? Again?

"Sleep Y/nie, sleep~" was the last thing you heard.

_____________________________________

"What do you mean she didn't come in?!" Yoongi asked, banging his laptop shut.

"I called her emergency number which is her roommate, who said that she left home for office today, just like every other day" Jennie said. "Get the security to check the building and send Taehyung to check the route she takes from home" Namjoon said as he glanced at your table through the glass in Yoongi's cabin.

"Where is Jungkook?" He asked. "He is on leave, he went back to his hometown" Jennie said and He nodded in rememberance. Soon Taehyung came rushing in and was given his information, he was about to rush out when he asked "What is her roommate's name?" He asked.

"Park Jimin" she said, and the eyes of the three men went wide, as they looked at each other. That was when the bells in her mind rang. "Could he be?" She asked. "It's a possibility" Taehyung said. They rushed to their parts and Yoongi kept calling you and Namjoon tried to catch a connection to your cell phone through that. It was impossible until you or someone at least picked the call up.

Taehyung reached your apartment address and he rang the bell, It had been fifteen minutes and he had rang the bell 7 times and there wasn't any response so he tried the next best thing, he twisted the door knob to find it open, he was shocked, he rushed in to find man lying right infront of the door. Taehyung checked his vitals and found him to be asleep, he swept the whole apartment but there was no sign of anyone else or even breaking and entering. He tried to shake the man awake but he couldn't, he was probably under a spell. "Damn", he cursed and called up Namjoon to let him know. "Nobody, just this dude lying and sleeping on the ground, seems to be under a spell", to which Namjoon said "It must be the Jackson guy", then Taehyung revealed the next part of the news "and I found Y/n's phone on her nightstand it was attached to the charger" he said.

"Shit! She's been missing since last night!" Namjoon summoned him back. "What do we do?" He looked at Yoongi beat up. "I think she took her" Yoongi said sitting down. "No! No! Oh God! I'm gonna lose her forever" he mourned, his eyes were glassy "I didn't even tell her that I loved her!". "Hyung! Take a hold of yourself, last time you felt this ache in your heart and a dread, do you feel it?" Namjoon asked. "No. How do you know this?" Yoongi asked. "I read Granpa Jongin's journals. Think, where she could take her. I think she's still alive, I am certain" he told the elder man.

"The castle!" Yoongi's eyes went wide "or the Park estate, I know it's still there in Ilsan" he said confused.

"We'll have to split up then, you take Taehyung and four men to the castle. I'll go with four more to the estate. I can't connect with my bug there it's fishy. I'll call Bang now" Namjoon said and Yoongi nodded. He hoped what Namjoon said was right. One of Bang's men was driving and Yoongi instructed the men to not look into the eyes of anybody they met in there directly. As they inched closer to the location, Yoongi could feel the heavy energy. Thank God for Bang's driver who covered the 6 hours drive in 3.

_____________________________________

Your eyes opened when your body came in contact with a rough and cold surface. Your head felt groggy and heavy. You felt pain on the back of your head, you tried to reach up but realised your hands were tied and you struggled and slowly opened your eyes. You saw two figures in front of you and tried to focus, your brain went blank when you realised who they were.

"J-J-J-Jimin? Ju-Jungkook? Why?" You said and coughed, your throat felt parched.

"For someone with such history, you do trust that easily" Jungkook said "And you're a stubborn one. How did you even manage to warm up to the prince after all those harsh words you took in at each of my sabotages" and all the incidents washed into your mind every time Yoongi scolded you for mistakes in various things, now you know how. But, Jimin? You looked at him, he was supposed to be your best friend.

"Do you remember my full name Y/n? PARK Jimin. Do you know my mother's name? PARK Jihyo" he said and your eyes went wide "Yeah my father was just a pawn, a commoner my mother married, but luck was in our favor look where you took birth. Giving me a chance to finally make my mother proud and make her acknowledge me! Something none of my past siblings could do!" He added

Tears stung your eyes, as you see a female figure walk in "Aigo, Jimina, pick her up from the cold ground. Is this how I taught you to treat your friends?" She asked, feigning surprise. She still looked the same as you had seen her in your last life. She held your face in between her fingers "You should have stayed away you maid. Look where all these brought you. You should have just let me make him realise and regret for rejecting me and humiliating me in cold blood" she said

"Are you crazy? Holding on to a rejection which is literally centuries old?" You asked. "Who are you to judge my reasons?!" She growled. "And yes Yoongi never humiliated you, it was all you for jumping at him." You said. You felt a sting on your face, and your head tilting in response. The cheek stung so bad, you wanted to pull the bitch's hair out but your hands were tied, literally. Your eyes sting with tears and at the corner of your eye you see a fleeting sense of guilt in Jimin's eyes, or maybe you imagined it.

Jihyo scoffed "You think Min Yoongi loves, YOU? No, he loves Y/n, his first and only love. He just sees a reflection of her in you. He doesn't love you. He feels responsible for you. He was the one who couldn't stop me after all, he's the one who couldn't save you, time and again" she said. "Now tell me little Y/n, do you know where the dagger is?".

You just shook your head, throat too parched to form words. And another sting, she planted another slap on your cheek, "Did you forget how I killed you in your last life? How I cut through your muscles and rendered your movement and slowly drained your life out? Tell me where the dagger is! I know he showed it to you in your past life. Think!" She glared at you and you saw her hazel eyes flash green, at this point you felt scared of what else she was capable of, but you have no idea what dagger she was talking about. Not like you would tell her even if you did. No matter what Yoongi told you or did to you, you would never betray him like that. You felt exhausted, you haven't had something to eat or drink and you also felt dizzy.

"Let her be! She's only human, she'll talk" Jihyo said and walked out, Jungkook and Jimin behind her as the latter shut the gate, taking one last glance at you. You shut your eyes.

You didn't know how long you were out, but your eyes fluttered open when you felt soft taps on your cheek. You were shocked to see Jimin who immediately shushed you by putting his finger on your lips. He brought a straw to your mouth and motioned you to drink. When he saw hesitation in your eyes, his heart clenched, but he told you "its water, just water, I promise". And you took a sip, it was like life came back to you.

"Jimin, why are you doing this?" You asked "I wont ask you to untie me or anything really. Just tell me why?" You asked.

"I want her to acknowledge me Y/n. Please tell me whatever you know about the dagger" he said caressing your cheek, you felt a strange comfort after his touch. "I am the most powerful creation of my mother and I want to make her proud. But, I would never let her hurt you. She promised me she won't kill you no matter what. Just tell us, or atleast tell me" he said.

"I. Don't. Know. Acknowledgment from your mother? By killing someone? By taking someone else's life? You do understand she wants to kill Yoongi for something he didn't even do centuries back!" You said trying to bring some sense unto him but it seemed like you were talking to a wall.

"Min Yoongi, will die. Whether you like it or not. I will prove my strength to mom and she'd love me. Even if you never speak to me after this. I am sorry Y/n, I am" he said and with that he left again. You tried to think what you could do, if you could move but to no avail, you were in this position since god knows when and where. Besides, Jungkook tied your legs too tight, they were numb.

[Warning: violence and mention of blood]

Suddenly you heard commotion, and Jungkook and Jihyo piled into the room followed by Jimin. Jihyo swiftly went behind you and grabbed you by your hair and pulled you up on your knees and pointed a dagger at your throat. "Looks like your king is here". Soon you saw the door burst open and a man flew in as Yoongi hit another with the hilt of his long sword.

"Unhand her now" Yoongi said, pointing his sword at Jihyo. "OH Yoongi, Yoongi, I don't think you're in a situation to bargain" Jihyo said. As she pressed a dagger to your throat, the coldness of the metal sending shivers down your spine. Memories of the past two times are fresh in your mind, "Do it" you said, "Just do it".

"What?" Even Jihyo was shocked. "I'm sick of you chasing me around through my lives like a rat. I don't care just let him go and do whatever the fuck you want" you said.

"SHUT UP!" Yoongi shouted. "I don't care what you think, you are getting out of here at whatever cost" he added. But, Jihyo pressed harder on your neck drawing a little blood. "NO" Yoongi shouted and tried to walk close but Jungkook stopped him.

"Fine then, lets have a deal" Jimin spoke out.

"What? You traitor?" Yoongi taunted him. "tsk. We'll let her go if you hand over the dagger and let our Jungkookie tie you up" Jimin said and you instantly shouted "No!" You said and tried to free yourself, but Jihyo tightens the hold of the dagger on your throat.

"Fine. Let her go" Yoongi said. "No! Yoongi!" You said. "Y/n, live. Live your life fully, for once" he said as he dropped his sword and kneeled down and pulled out that dagger the one with an ivory handle, that cursed and killed you in your first life. So this was the dagger that Jihyo has been asking you, even in your previous life. "Yoongi!" You shouted to knock some sense into him. "Dont worry, it's not like I can get hurt" he assured you with his gummy smile as he let Jungkook tie him. But something told you there was a catch. No way things would be this simple.

"Fool" Jihyo said and dropped you to the ground, thank god your hands were tied in front of you or you would have face planted. "You know Yoongi" Jihyo said picking up the dagger "This dagger, holds the key to your life and mine. The moment I tried to kill YOU and Y/n your ONE TRUE LOVE jumped in the middle of all that. This can kill you, I first thought of killing her and leaving you just like that, as fun as that would be it would be an eye sore, I'd rather kill you first then torment her for the rest of her life." She said with a glare

"Oh you're a petty bitch" you finally spat "And you are the pettiest there are. You think you'll win this? There's no winning here, you're just a loser bitch who can't take rejection and use daddy's powers as a rebound for the lack of a shitty personality and soul" everyone went silent, even Yoongi who has only ever seen you be sweet to everyone all your lives but everyone has a breaking point. Jihyo walked over to you and you felt a worse sting, "AHHH" you screamed.

"Mom!" even Jimin screamed. "DON'T TOUCH HER, do whatever you want but let her go" Yoongi said.

"You know Yoongi, there was once when I would have done anything to hear those words. But, now I am happy too, cause anything means this" she said and she took the dagger and stabbed Yoongi's shoulder. Yoongi's eyes went wide but his mouth remained shut. "Nooooo! Noooo! Yoongi! You're bleeding! Oh my god" you shouted. "Y/n! Shhhh! (Y/n) shhhhh. It's okay, close your eyes" he tries to calm you, even in this situation. A sinister laugh was heard from Jihyo as she pulled the knife out, causing more blood to spill. Your eyes stung with tears as more spill out. You tried to crawl to him but felt someone hold you. "Don't" Jimin said. "Let me go! You traitor! I trusted you with my life! I loved you! You were the closest one to me after my parents and THIS is what you do! Let me go!" You said and broke down. "Any last words?" Jihyo asked. "Let her live" he said looking at her and then looked at you and said "Live on and be good" he said and closed his eyes and a hand closed yours. And then you felt the ties of your hands and feet lose. You opened your eyes to see more blood on Yoongi and the dagger. She stabbed him in the stomach.

No sound escaped you only tears. "Y-y-yoongi! N-n-no!" You said and held his trembling hands. "Y/n, just this once, let me die for you. I won't have to see you die anymore. Live happily and grow old for once, for me. I love you (y/n), so so much. I'm sorry I kept pushing you away." Even Jimin and Jungkook who were now beside him were silent. They would lie to say they didn't feel bad but Jihyo would kill Jungkook if he didn't comply and Jimin thought this would finally make his mother happy. You pressed your lips to his both trembling and you kissed his cheek. How are you supposed to let go? You just found him, you sobbed holding his hand tighter. Yoongi didn't know how to calm you he just felt this sting and warmth in his belly. His eyes were droopy, he was barely conscious "It feels good to finally bleed, I would have never made it without you. I love you, my love" he said and his eyes closed.

"Aww. So sad. Dont cry (y/n) cause soon you'll join him" Jihyo said and you closed your eyes, you'll join him, it'll be over, finally. "No mom! You promised it will be over if Yoongi dies!" Jimin said. "It will be when so does she" Jihyo said laughing again. She took a step towards you but Jimin rushed in front of you and shielded you "You promised!" He said.

"Jimin move!" She warned, your eyes went wide at Jimin's actions, what does he want to prove by guarding you now?! You thought. "No mom" he shouted, even Jungkook was confused as to what he should do standing silently as the scene unfolds. "Then I'll kill you with her" she said and hauled the knife ar him but your body reacted and you caught it before it could touch him. "Y/n! Let that blade go, it can harm you" he said. "Let the dagger go" Jihyo said through gritted teeth and Jimin too tried to pull it and suddenly a piercing scream was heard and there stood Jungkook, your and Jimin's hand free of the dagger which is now in Jungkook's hand pierced into Jihyo. She screamed again as Jungkook left the hilt of the dagger. "WHAT DID YOU DO YOU RAT?!" she shouted but her voice came out broken , her hair was turning white and her skin started to wrinkle "I think the age and deeds are finally catching up to her" Jimin said "We have to hurry" he suddenly said. "What?" You and Jungkook asked at once "Yoongi, is still alive, the nearest hospital is 30 mins towards the next town, he'll make it, I'll hold off the blood flow" he said, as in walked Taehyung. "Y/n?!" Yoongi hyung!" He shouted.

"Tae! we don't have time we need to rush him to the hospital!" You said and Taehyung immediately as Jihyo's wales were now whimpers. "Please bury her in the estate" Jimin said and Jungkook picked Yoongi's body as the three of you walked off.

_____________________________________

When his eyes opened, the first thing he saw was you sleeping while holding his hands. He checked him self and his stomach and shoulder, what's going on? He thought and his movements shook you up. "YOONGI!" you stood up and hugged him. He felt at home right there.

"What's happening?" He asked "How long was I out?" He asked.

"It's been 3 days, you lost a lot of blood. You, we, broke the curse, you sacrificed yourself for me, that's the greatest act of love. Jimin said that the place where the curse took place was the place where it could be broken and that's why we failed in our previous life". "What do you mean Jimin said? Why would that traitor say that?" He asked. "My love there's a lot that happened but lets keep it for later" you said. He nodded and suddenly pulled you into him, holding you in place, taking your lips into his, as he sucked on it. He missed you god knows that, he wanted to do this the moment he laid his eyes on you but back then he thought he could stay away from you but keep an eye on you to keep you out of trouble. But, now, you were his and he was yours finally he thought, pulling you closer to him leaving no space. He would never let you go.

_____________________________________

Other Works

Feel free to comment or send asks.

#imagines #bts x reader #bangtan fanfic #bts #bangtan #bangtan x reader #bts imagines #bangtan fluff #bts fluff #bts fanfction #yoongi fluff #bts yoongi #yoongi fic #yoongi x y/n #yoongi x reader #yoongi x namjoon #suga x y/n #suga x reader #suga x you #bts suga #min yoongi #min suga

[rainbowsuitcase]

Fanfic Rec Friday #6

cat cradle by kaythebest - Seokjin x Yoongi, 51 523 words, T - Magic AU, Curses, Cat Yoongi

Seokjin takes in a stray and discovers a new world.

this moment for life by misspamela - Yoongi x Jungkook, 22 116 words, E - Fluff and Smut, Friends with Benefits to Lovers

Yoongi doesn’t date. Jungkook was supposed to be just a one night stand, but he turns into so much more.

youre staring again by aprofessorstale - Yoongi x Namjoon, 1 472 words, G - Highschool AU

Namjoon has a secret crush on Yoongi. The only problem is, everyone knows.

night after night by inthestarstonight - Jimin x Jungkook, 10 506 words, E - Background OT7, Dom Jimin, Edgeplay, Sex Tapes

Jungkook has kept the explicit version of Seven a secret from everyone, up until the release. Jimin listens to it and reacts.

Manic Pixie Dream Girl by aprofessorstale - Yoongi x Jimin, 11 864 words, T - Drag Queens, Nonbinary Yoongi, Cute, hiding creator's style doesn't take away from the story!

Yoongi is the shy boy that his coworkers barely know anything about, until they find him in a gay club, performing in drag.

lovely way of telling me you love me by inthestarstonight - OT7, 7 471 words, M - A/B/O, Pack OT7, Pack Alpha Namjoon, Crack

Five times Namjoon's pack lied to him for The Bit, and one time it was for his own good.

the other side of the earth by stickyrum (couldn't find socmed) - Seokjin x Jimin, 14 292 words, T - Dystopia AU, Deception, Rebellion

In which Jimin believed he was a typical pawn in the bureaucracy of the First Order but found himself trapped in the Minister's office with an insurgent, willingly forfeiting state secrets

but i know (i know) what i want by inthestarstonight - Yoongi x Namjoon, 4 053 words, M - Fem BTS, Angst and Fluff, Arguing

Yoonji and Namjoo get into a fight. Yoonji tries to apologize.

i love the way you love (and the way you can't hide it to save your lives) by TheLostPevensie - Yoongi x Namjoon, 8 563 words, T - Canonverse, Coming Out, Established Relationship, Acceptance

4 times a member finds out Yoongi and Namjoon are together and 1 time someone already knew.

Long Sleeves by TheLostPevensie - Yoongi x Namjoon, 7 555 words, T - Soulmate Marks, Meet-Cute

Yoongi is convinced he'll have to wear long sleeves for the rest of his life, after a sleeve of an entirely different kind suddenly appears on his arm.

#fic recs #bts fic #namjoon fic #seokjin fic #yoongi fic #hoseok fic #jimin fic #taehyung fic #jungkook fic #poly fic #seokjin x yoongi #yoonjin fic #yoonkook fic #yoongi x jungkook #yoongi x namjoon #namgi fic #jimin x jungkook #jikook fic #yoongi x jimin #yoonmin fic #ot7 fic #seokjin x jimin #jinmin fic

[ugh-yoongi]

hello, congratulations my beautiful funny grandpa friend on your follower milestone! as discussed, i have a drabble request: namgi, a blowjob, and a happy ending. yours to do with what you will - as explicit or vague as you like and you don't have to use my favorite ao3 tag if u don't want. okie, love u - good job being awesome on tumblr and reminding me it exists

yeah, hi, we're not gonna discuss how long this has been sitting in my ask box. we're gonna pretend that this showed up within the last two days.

flow job

pairing: yoongi x namjoon genre: underground rap scene au, fwb au; pwp warnings: this is obviously gay mxm stuff, so please do not interact if that's not your thing. swearing, public sex, oral sex, unedited. rating: explicit. minors dni. wordcount: 1k listen to: cypher pt.3 by bts

it's bee's birthday! send me yoongi requests and/or fic recs!

There’s something about the way Yoongi raps.

It fucks Namjoon up a little. (A lot.) Has him standing far enough in the side-stage shadows to adjust his jeans. Has his fingers twitching at his sides, wanting nothing more than to reach out and touch, but he has to remember where they are. Who they’re around. Has to remember that this is part of the routine.

Because it’s not the first time.

Won’t be the last, either. Yoongi likes knowing Namjoon’s watching him, that he’s strung tight and a little desperate by the time Yoongi’s done. Likes feeling Namjoon’s heated gaze on him every time he wordplays some filthy line; every time his tongue darts out to swipe over his bottom lip. Likes taking the last slot of the night because it’s always the longest, and god knows Yoongi likes to draw it out, prolong the game.

The beat Yoongi’s rapping along to is dirty. Namjoon can feel the bass in his chest, but Yoongi rides it well. Better than anyone else in this grimy club. Looks better than anyone, too, but it’s the competence that does it for Namjoon. What had him approaching Yoongi to begin with, a little awestruck and inspired and a lot horny, and Yoongi had smirked out of the side of his mouth and that was the end of life as Namjoon had known it. Had him shoved in a disgusting bathroom stall with his pants pulled taut around his thighs, Yoongi on his knees in front of him.

Now it’s a thing.

Only ever here. Only in these seedy underground clubs where they’re known only by their stage names. Kim Namjoon and Min Yoongi only exist here to one another.

Yoongi spits one more line right as the beat cuts out and he drops his microphone on the floor. There’s screaming, thunderous applause, but Namjoon hears none of it. All that exists to him is Yoongi and the way he finds him in the dark immediately, knows all his hiding places, and the hunger evident on his face.

Namjoon is a man that needs little instruction. Smart as hell but just as clumsy, yet always seems to know exactly what to do when it comes to Yoongi. Namjoon might call it intuition if the promise of Yoongi’s wet, hot mouth didn’t have his brain short-circuiting, but, well.

They’ve only played this club once before, but Namjoon has the layout memorized. Knows exactly where to go. Knows all the turns, how many steps. Hasn’t thought of much else since the last time he had Yoongi’s mouth on him. Two weeks, and he’s been fucked up and on fire ever since.

Sometimes Yoongi is gentle and teasing, but tonight he moves like he’s possessed. Slams a stall door open and pushes Namjoon inside of it with little regard for his well-being. No regard for anyone who might play witness to this, either, because he’s back on his knees before Namjoon can blink. Has his belt undone and his jeans pulled down while the crowd is still chanting his stage name.

“Hy-hyung,” Namjoon tries to choke out, but it comes out all breathy and stuttered. Tries to tangle his hands in Yoongi’s hair, too, but he swats his hands away.

“Shut up,” Yoongi replies, and it’s all heat but no disdain. “Fuck, I thought about this the entire time.”

Namjoon’s briefs get tucked beneath his balls and he braces himself for the feel of Yoongi’s mouth—sucks in one breath and then another, steadies himself against the stall door—but there’s… nothing. He cracks one eye open and looks down. Whimpers at the sight of Yoongi there, cheeks flushed, looking at Namjoon the same way Namjoon knows he looks at him.

“Are you gonna…”

It’s all gums when Yoongi smiles. Seems to laugh despite himself. “Suck your dick? Yeah, I’m working on it.”

“Doesn’t seem to be the case, hyung.”

“Give me a fucking second, Namjoon, I’m thinking.”

“Can you think later? My dick hurts and your knees are gonna bruise. Not to mention this club is probably the nastiest one we come to—”

Yoongi scoffs. Spits in his hand and pumps the length of Namjoon’s cock just to shut him up. It works. It really works, because Namjoon’s moaning and thrusting his hips into Yoongi’s hand like no one’s ever touched his dick before. Pathetic. Namjoon knows it is, but he can’t help himself. When just a look from Yoongi can have him unraveling, it’s unrealistic to expect him to be able to withstand this kind of assault.

“I was thinking,” Yoongi continues, replacing his hand with languid, slow licks from the base of Namjoon’s cock to the tip, “about how to—” Sucks hard at the tip just to laugh when Namjoon swears. “—ask you out.”

And because he’s a bastard, Yoongi doesn’t give him a chance to reply. Just swallows the entire length of Namjoon’s cock, and whatever sounds and words come out of Namjoon’s mouth are no longer his responsibility. Whatever he does with his hips isn’t, either, because he’s been keyed up since he first laid eyes on Yoongi hours ago. Has exhibited impressive restraint, so he figures he’s allowed to let go. He’s allowed to fuck Yoongi’s mouth in shallow strokes until he’s snug in his throat.

“Fuck, fuck,” he groans. The chase is mindless, now. Nothing exists beyond the feel of Yoongi’s mouth. “Hy-hyung, fuck, I’m gonna—”

Yoongi pulls off long enough to roll his eyes and say, “Jesus, already?” before Namjoon finally tangles his hands in his hair and feeds his cock back into his mouth. Then it’s just instinct.

Namjoon comes with a long, drawn-out moan. The kind of orgasm that has his legs trembling, no longer able to support his weight, and he wants to sink to the floor and ride it out but he refuses to put his bare ass on the grungy tile. “Oh my god,” he says, swallowing hard to try and catch his breath.

Yoongi is completely unbothered. Stands to dust off his knees. “Am I allowed to think now?”

“Sure,” Namjoon concedes, “but I can’t. I think you sucked me stupid.”

Yoongi scoffs, rolls his eyes again, but Namjoon can see the shy smile that’s threatening to break through. Can see the blush spreading across his cheeks. “You’d think you’d be used to it by now. You wanna go grab a drink with me?”

Namjoon falters. Isn’t sure he’s hearing correctly. Knows, logically, that Yoongi had mentioned it just minutes earlier but thought maybe he’d misheard, like some mirage in the horny desert that’s Namjoon’s brain. Gets distracted by Yoongi’s spit-slicked lips, the way the yellowed, fluorescent lights of the bathroom glint off his mouth, the way he swipes his tongue at the corner, and blurts out:

“Is this why your stage name is Gloss?”

Yoongi’s stunned. Just blinks owlishly. “You really think I’ve made a habit of blowing people in club bathrooms and named myself after it?”

“Well, I don’t know, your mouth just looks—”

“Just shut up, Kim Namjoon,” Yoongi says, and Namjoon decides it’s advice worth taking. “Do you want to go out with me or not? I’m not asking again.”

He nods.

#beeday drabbles #jewel answers #jewel writes #lauren i love u i'm so sorry this took 500 years pls forgive me #yoongi x namjoon #namjoon x yoongi

[notkattyl]

simple as that. ﹥ established namkook, past namgi, E, 6.1k ﹥ non-famous au ﹥ jungkook is not jealous of yoongi

Taehyung glances at Jungkook out of the corner of his eye and smirks a bit. “Ah. Okay. I get it now,” he says. And then proceeds to say nothing else, withholding the apparent solution to Jungkook’s plight.

“Well?” Jungkook throws his hands up, “We’re all waiting, Taehyung-ssi! The floor is yours!” He gestures sarcastically to the empty living room around them.

Taehyung remains silent as he leans forward to exchange the small, folded square remains of his chip bag with a bottle of water from the coffee table. He takes - what Jungkook estimates to be - the longest possible sip of water in the history of mankind and simply says, “You want them to cuck you.”

﹥ read on ao3.

moodboard by tomatoflowers on twt.

#namkook #namkook fic #bts fic #namkook fanfic #bts fanfic #*kattyl #namjoon x jungkook #jungkook x namjoon #namjoon x yoongi #yoongi x namjoon #namgikook

[written-in-flowers]

For The Crown: Yoongi x Namjoon

Pairing: Targaryen!Yoongi x Knight!Namjoon | side pairing: Yoongi x OFC

Genre: Smut, fluff, mild angst/ Au: ASOIAF (pre-Robert’s rebellion, during Targaryen Dynasty) 

Rating: M+ (for sexual content) 

Word Count: 8k

Summary: Pressured by the kingdom to produce a child, Prince Yoongi is still having difficulties in the bedroom with his sister wife. Fortunately, his childhood best friend, Ser Namjoon, has no difficulty helping His Grace at all.  

Tags: friends to lovers, forbidden romance, mild angst, incest, sibling-marriage, secret relationship, supportive beard, anal fingering, anal sex, rimming, oral sex (m. and f. giving/receiving), creampie, mild roleplay, top!yoongi, bottom!namjoon, dirty talk, body worship (mild?), 

Disclaimer: These works are completely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. They are not meant to reflect of label the member of BTS in any way. The events within never took place. 

a/n: Thanks SO MUCH to @magicshopaholic​ for beta reading and listening to my asoiaf ramblings/brainstorming with me and generally helping me evolve this little one shot into a series lol I adore you so much <3 

AO3 link

*****

This would cost The Crown millions. Yoongi could not help imagining bags and bags of gold being spent to celebrate a single event. Of course, with his brother, no celebration lasted a single day. The past week had been a blur of feasts, with the Crown entertaining special guests each night. The first night, King Seokjin honored their cousins, House Baratheon, with a feast. Then after, a dinner for House Tully, The Hand of the King’s family. Then a third feast for House Hightower, an old family ally, and finally a fourth for House Lannister, who’d no doubt funded most of it as a present for the king. Yoongi found these strings of celebrations odd, since Seokjin was not a spendthrift and did not enjoy crowds. He’d been sitting at the table on the fourth night, watching his brother speak with their father’s Hand, Lord Gerold Hightower, when his sister-wife Vysenna spoke to him quietly. 

“He looks so thin these days,” she commented, watching Seokjin from afar. “The Maester says he hasn’t been eating as much lately. He hardly touched his plate.”  

For the fourth night, his sister dressed herself in a gown of red and gold with gold jewelry to honor their guests. Yoongi took in for a moment the gold tiara of rubies she’d placed in her light hair. The Light of the Realm, the smallfolk called her, and Yoongi agreed. Vysenna was as beautiful as she was willful. A lot of people said she and Yoongi could pass as twins given their pink pouty lips, short noses and yellow hair. They’d been betrothed when Yoongi was two-years-old and Vysenna was only a babe in their mother’s arms. They married when they turned eighteen and seventeen respectively. 

It has been a struggle ever since.

Yoongi looked across the hall to where his older brother sat with a few lords. They all ate and drank their fill, while the King nursed a cup of wine. He noticed the plate sitting in front of Seokjin, seeing the roasted chicken and vegetables merely picked at lightly. The two siblings became worried. Seokjin had always been a sickly man, prone to fevers, chills and poor constitution and indigestion. The Maesters didn’t believe he’d live this long, but he had. Yoongi liked to think this showed Seokjin’s inner strength and resilience. Yet, he couldn’t help noticing his brother’s pale face and sweaty brow beginning to show. No doubt any moment, his lady wife, Queen Baenera, would suggest he rest for the following celebration. 

“Do you think he’s worsened then?” Yoongi asked her. 

“I don’t think so,” she replied. “I think it’s another one of his slight colds. You know, the ones that come and go quickly. I hope he doesn’t worsen before the tourney.”

The Ten-Year Tourney, people called it now. It made Yoongi think of his perception of time. It felt as if only recently their father, King Lucerys, passed on and Seokjin had taken the Iron Throne. Seokjin had been nineteen at the time, considered green and still learning how to rule a kingdom. Yoongi admitted his brother's occasional ailments kept people on their toes those first few years. Grand Maester Oswell said that Seokjin needed to be mindful of his meals and environment; not to exert himself too much or strain his body. Everyone around Seokjin treated him as if he were made of glass. But, his brother never showed it. Even now, sitting amongst lords and ladies, he kept on a strong presence. Yoongi wondered what it must be like to be concerned for your health all the time, unsure which day was your last. Perhaps, that was why Seokjin always celebrated so abundantly. 

“He won’t,” Yoongi assured her. “He’s strong like Father was.”

Vysenna linked her arm around his and rested her head on his shoulder. “I know he is,” she said, “But I can’t help but worry. He does not have any heirs, Yoongi. Should he pass and Baenera has not given him a son…”

“Then I become King.” 

It wasn’t the sort of thing he enjoyed thinking about. It was Seokjin whom their father groomed for his throne. Yoongi learned the usual rules of diplomacy, culture, war tactics and strategy, history, and so forth, but Seokjin was born to be a king. Yoongi briefly imagined himself sitting on the Iron Throne, a chair made from the fallen swords of their ancestor’s enemies hundreds of years ago. He imagined it being uncomfortable and possibly dangerous to sit upon. He’d be the most powerful man in Westeros, and it scared him. A warm hand clasped his hand comfortingly. 

“Come,” she said, lacing her fingers between his, “Come dance with me.” 

Yoongi smiled as she led him from his seat to the dance floor where others moved to the musicians playing. His sister-wife moved with the grace and elegance of a queen. She suited the title perfectly. His eyes casted over her figure while they danced. Men from the North to Dorne admired his sister…his wife. Even after being married for two years, he still found it hard to distinguish the roles. He’d grown up with Vysenna as a sister, then they married and suddenly she became his wife. Her trip to Dragonstone for a year was meant to break that association, but even now as they danced, he still saw her as Vysenna. Vysenna, the girl who used to climb tall trees and run barefoot throughout the keep; the girl who’d steal extra cakes for them to eat when their Septa wasn’t watching. 

She deserved a man who’d appreciate her the way a man did for a woman. 

“I missed you,” she said softly, “Dragonstone was lonely without you.”

“You had your companions,” he replied, twirling her once before bringing her back. “You weren’t alone.”

“But I didn’t have you, Brother.” 

He knew what she meant, and it made his cheeks rosy. It surprised him when she pressed herself close to him, her back to his chest like the rest of the ladies around them. “He’s watching us,” she whispered to him. 

Yoongi glimpsed over to Seokjin, who still sat with his half-full cup and unfinished plate. He watched them with curiosity. Seokjin managed to halt their marriage for several years, telling people that both of them needed to understand the commitment of marriage. Perhaps he’d hoped making them wait would help romantic feelings emerge. When they’d wed, everyone said they made a handsome couple and they’d have beautiful children. Unfortunately, those children did not come. Seokjin told everyone that his brother and sister simply needed time and guidance, but he knew the truth, or at least half. Yoongi couldn’t become aroused by Vysenna. Not only because she was his sister, but because he couldn’t find her body exciting. He admired her body the way a painter admired a work of art, yet nothing beyond. 

There was someone else who stoked the flames in his loins with a single smirk. 

“Kiss me,” she said, “So he stops.”

So he did. He placed a chaste kiss on her lips at first, but she then pulled him in closer. She tasted like honeyed wine and grapes. Yoongi kissed her back the way people expected, yet nothing else. No hard tightness in his stomach or a fluttering of his heart. Not even a lustful thought entered his mind. What was worse was that Vysenna knew this. Like she’d said, Seokjin turned back to his lords when he saw them kiss. 

“We will have to produce a child soon, Yoongi,” she told him, moving away again. “Baenera’s already asking questions, and Lysandra tells me people are whispering rumors.”

“Well, you were away,” he reasoned. “It’s not like I could get you pregnant all the way from Dragonstone, could I?” 

“But now that I’ve returned…” she cupped his cheek, “Your tongue might be pure magic, but it won’t get me pregnant.” 

Yoongi blushed. “I know,” he sighed defeatedly, “Forgive me, Sister. I do try. I honestly do.” 

She smiled fondly, “I know you do. It’s who you are, and no man or God can change that, but it needs to happen.” She slipped her hands from his shoulders to his hands, holding them in her own. “Perhaps tonight? I can invite one of the stableboys-”

“-No, no, stableboys.” 

He could not risk one of them blabbing about Prince Yoongi’s ‘depraved pleasures’. There was only one person he thought of when he considered indulging himself. Namjoon. “Alright then, no stablehands.” She gave a sly smile, “I saw Namjoon entered the lists for tomorrow.”

It was as if she could read minds. “Of course he did,” he replied, “Namjoon never misses an opportunity to knock someone off their horse for an audience.” 

“He’s become quite handsome these past two years, hasn’t he?” 

The pair turned to another area of the room where a group of men drunkenly sang out loud. He recognized Lord Jungkook Royce, a young lad from The Vale, and Lord Taehyung Baratheon, their cousin with a third man. Tall with broad shoulders and strong arms, his tanned skin glowed in the candlelight. He wore a dark gray doublet over a white shirt and black breeches tonight; he’d trimmed his goatee, dark brown, for the festivities. He swept a hand through his long brown hair to keep it from his eyes, which were a deep brown color. Yoongi’s eyes briefly casted over his lean form, recalling every moment he caught Namjoon shirtless in their lifetime. Namjoon Hightower was the son of Lord Gerold Hightower, Hand of the King to their father in their youth. This meant Namjoon grew up in the capital alongside The King’s children. They played together, fought together, rode horseback and hunted together. Yoongi never knew what he liked until he and Namjoon went hunting alone one afternoon. 

“He has,” he agreed. 

“I heard Lord Tarly wants to wed his daughter to him,” she said. 

“Which one?”

“The youngest one, Marian.”

“Really? She’s only fifteen. Namjoon’s a grown man.” 

Yoongi never went far when he hunted, and usually brought people with him: squires, guards, and close friends. But, that particular day he’d gone hunting for wild turkey alone with Namjoon. He preferred the company of his childhood friend over most of those at court. Yoongi thought back then perhaps he enjoyed Namjoon’s company because he could be himself with the boy, and they shared similar interests. He never suspected back then it’d be for much deeper reasons. He remembered his heart racing whenever Namjoon drew close to him; he’d noticed how the sun caught in Namjoon’s dark hair and the dimples deep in each smile. He was beautiful. He was beautiful, bold and strong. Yoongi had jested about Namjoon’s presumed infatuation with Lady Stokeworth when the tall boy shoved him. 

“When has that stopped anyone?” she asked, breaking his thoughts. “Namjoon’s going to be Lord of Oldtown one day. He needs a wife and children.” 

“She’s a child. He won’t agree to it.”

“But, he’ll have to marry eventually, even if it isn’t to the Tarly girl.” 

Tripping over an exposed tree root, Yoongi’s reflexes made him clutch Namjoon’s arm and they crashed onto the forest ground together. He doesn’t remember what made it happen or who leaned in first. He only recalled seeing nothing but Namjoon’s dark eyes staring longingly at him before feeling his warm lips. He’d never kissed anyone before, not even Vysenna. But, the kiss changed him. 

“Namjoon will choose his bride when he is ready to,” Yoongi said firmly, not meeting her eyes in fear of what she might see. “He’s too…too wild.”

Namjoon chose this moment to slam his cup in triumph as he outdrank the two boys at his table. Vysenna giggled, “I suppose, but all wild horses are tamed with time.” 

Things changed between him and Namjoon following that day. He worried Namjoon might find him repulsive, and leave King’s Landing for Oldtown. Young Yoongi stayed up late at night tossing and turning as he imagined visions of a disgusted Namjoon avoiding him all over the Red Keep. But, he had been far from the truth. They became closer than ever before. Yoongi and Namjoon often found themselves alone in places: the Sept in the Keep, the Godswood, the stables, and Namjoon’s chambers in the Tower of the Hand. Not for only kissing, but to be together without all the flatterers and squires around. Their budding romance blossomed the night before his wedding to Vysenna, when Namjoon presented himself to Yoongi naked and erect. When Seokjin ordered Vysenna to Dragonstone for a year, their feelings only grew stronger. 

The feast ended when Seokjin was escorted away by his wife and Grand Maester Oswell. Yoongi watched Lannister men stumbling away towards the gates of the Red Keep, talking of the city’s pleasure houses and taverns. Lords and ladies said their farewells and returned to their apartments or to inns in their carriages and on horses. Yoongi’s entire body flushed in a cold sweat when he realized what he will be expected to do now. The same thing all young men did with their wives after being reunited. Yoongi did not know if he could go through it again. 

“Evening, Your Highness,” a low voice said as he stood on the dance floor still. Vysenna had scurried away to Lysandra, leaving him alone. Yoongi turned to see Namjoon standing there, a drunken smile on his face. “Did you have a nice time with your lady wife?”

“I did,” he nodded. “I’m happy my sister’s home where she belongs.”

“Your ‘sister’, Your Grace? Don’t you mean, your ‘wife’?” 

Yoongi heard the snarl in the word ‘wife’. He watched Namjoon down the rest of his wine. “Yes…Yes, that’s what I mean. She’s both to me, of course.”

“You’ll lay with her tonight, I expect?”

“Perhaps. I’m quite tired after all these feasts, and the tourney is tomorrow. I might retire early.”

Namjoon paused, “People are talking, Your Grace.”

“Let them. I don’t care.”

“They think you can't bring yourself to do the deed,” he continued, “Or that Vysenna is barren.”

“Vysenna is not barren.”

“They don’t know that.” A silence laid between them as they watched their sisters giggle behind their hands. “You have to do it, Yoongi.” Yoongi. He only ever called him that in private. “It’s important. Not only for you, but Vysenna too. People think she’s barren or that there’s something abnormal about her.”

“There isn’t. My sister is-”

“-Your wife-”

“-My wife,” he said firmly, “Is beautiful and healthy.”

“Yes, she’s the most beautiful woman in all the Seven Kingdoms, who has been married for two years and isn’t pregnant?” Namjoon quipped. “You know how people think, Yoongi. They’ll never shame you. It’s Vysenna everyone will blame.”

He frowned, “I know. I just…I just can’t.”

“Have you tried thinking of me when you do it?” Namjoon smirked, “I know I’m not as dainty as Vysenna but you can ask her to turn around or perhaps place a sheet over her face.”

“I will not insult my sister-”

“-Your wife, Your Grace-”

“-My wife…like that.” 

“You better think of something soon, then.” 

Yoongi looked over at Namjoon. Underneath the concern over duty, Yoongi saw the regret in his eyes. Their last discussion had not ended on good terms, especially with many glasses of wine thrown in the mix. Yoongi hoped it wouldn’t come up. He’d prayed it’d become one of those things they’d acknowledge, but never speak of. 

"I don't want to do it," Yoongi said to his silence. "I have to." 

"I know." 

They'd spent the last night before Vysenna's return in his chambers. Yoongi briefly thought of Namjoon's strong body flushed against him. Rough fingers danced across his skin and soft lips dotted his body. They'd drunk wine and kissed and talked throughout the night. They'd  finished their third round of coupling before Namjoon spoke first. 

"I didn't mean what I said," Namjoon said, setting down his empty cup. "I was drunk and stupid." 

"Leave her. Leave her and let's run away together." 

"I understand," Yoongi replied. "I wasn't very kind either." 

"We can't do that, Namjoon. You know we can't." 

"Your place is with your family, and my place is with mine. We both have responsibilities and duties we can't forget about because of our own desires. That'd be selfish of us to do, especially to our families." 

"...You're a coward." 

"You're not a coward, Yoongi," he said. "I shouldn't have said that. I know you don't care what other people think in truth." 

"It's not what people think that worries me." 

"You're scared of people knowing who you are. You're frightened that people will find out, and you'll lose that ugly little crown you're always wearing. If you loved me, you wouldn't care about what they think." 

"It's what they'd do if they found out," Yoongi continued. "You remember what happened to Cyrus Manderly when a serving girl found him in bed with another man. His people came into his room, dragged him from his bed and beat him to death. I don't want them to do that to you." 

"Namjoon, I do love you, but this is beyond what others will think." 

"And I don't want them to do that to you either,” Namjoon added. “The High Septon already calls Targaryen brother to sister marriages ungodly and their children abominations. I can't imagine what would happen if someone discovered the truth about us." 

"We could run. We could go to the Free Cities or the Summer Isles or somewhere far away where nobody knew our names. You could dye your hair, and we'd have a nice manse by the ocean. We wouldn't have to hide." 

"Namjoon! Namjoon, come on, we're going!" Lord Taehyung called across the hall, laughing and smiling broadly. 

"I should go," he said. "It'll be suspicious otherwise."

"I reckon he'll drag you to that pleasure house on the Street of Silk," Yoongi suspected. The thought of Namjoon in the arms of another person made his blood simmer. Yoongi knew Jimin Hill's pleasure house invited people of all appetites, and he dealt in the deepest discretion. "I'll understand. I'm not upset about it."

Namjoon snorted, "Like I'm not upset about you with your wife?" 

“Namjoon, don't be absurd. Neither of us can run and leave like that. My brother will hunt us down to the ends of the Earth and beyond. He'll think you kidnapped me, and put you to the sword; he'll exile me to Dragonstone for the rest of my life." 

"Goodnight, Your Grace." 

"Goodnight." 

He watched him leave, longing to go with him. Yoongi might not like Jimin’s establishment, but he endured it for a night alone with Namjoon. Jimin even made a special entrance for the prince, so none of the smallfolk ever saw him coming in or out. But, tonight his pleasures must be used elsewhere, even if nothing ever happened. Vysenna left her ladies and came back over to him, glowing and smiling. His heart dropped into the nerves bubbling in his stomach. He already imagined the disaster, and how disappointed his sweet sister would be at the end. Even if he did rest his face between her thighs, she was right. It did not result in children, which everyone around them pushed for so harshly. 

Walking with her to their chambers, a pair of guards behind them, he wished he were normal. He wished he could feel the desires men felt for women the way he did for Namjoon. What made him feel worse were the rumors flying about his sister. Namjoon was right. People blamed her for not giving the kingdom a son. They called her infertile or undesirable. They said she should be cast aside for another woman; should be sent to the Silent Sisters or to Oldtown to be trained as a septa. And, it would  all be his fault...

Tonight, he'd try and fail to please his sweet sister and the man he loved in one fell swoop. 

They entered their chambers. Yoongi sent the two men away, making his orders firmly when one of the men insisted. He knew his brother planted them there, but they could not disobey the words of their prince. He waited until they'd gone down the corridor and out of sight before shutting the door. When he turned around, his sister had disappeared. No doubt she'd gone to 'prepare' herself for their 'passionate' night together. Yoongi supposed he should too. He began unyting and pulling off layers of clothes and tossing them aside. He let the brush of cool night time wind blow in through his window, soothing the warmth on his cheeks and body. The smells of the city didn't reach the high towers of the Red Keep, and the lights reminded Yoongi of fireflies. He saw dozens of them beyond the keep's walls. Taverns, inns and pleasure houses teemed with life due to the vast amount of people who'd traveled to see the King's Ten-Year Tourney. Namjoon might be in one of them right now, a young lad in his lap, kissing and fondling him. He gripped the window sill tightly. 

"Yoongi..." 

His sister's words came in a soft sigh. He turned around to see her bare naked by their bed. She'd combed out her golden hair until it shone, and wore a long necklace of rubies that draped between her breasts. He recognized it as the one he'd given her when she arrived home. She was beautiful. Seeing her this way, he understood why so many men fought for her favor at tourneys. He knew for a fact a lot of the women in the pleasure houses fashioned their looks after her, hoping for more customers. On wobbly knees, he walked over to her and let her take his hand. Gently, she pressed her breasts to his chest and trailed her fingertips down to his waist. He tried feeling something. He tried imagining Namjoon's fingers instead, and the fire they ignited each time. Yet, the vision of him doing that with another person blasted those thoughts away. 

Vysenna led him to the side of the bed, where she laid him against the pillows. Their lips met when she sat upon his lap. The friction of her sex rubbing against his made her whimper into his mouth. Shaky hands rested on her hips, and guided her along his shaft. He soon felt wetness dripping onto his cock, which helped her move much more swiftly. Her tongue then brushed against his, and she put his hand on her breast. They were supple, cuppable mounds with nipples that hardened on his palm. He excited her, he knew. Vysenna never concealed her affections for him before their marriage. She'd been an eager lover their wedding night, muttering that she'd wanted him this way for so long, and that she'd be a dutiful wife who'd pleasure him as long as he wanted. Any normal man would've been overjoyed to hear a fair beauty say this to them. 

But, Yoongi remained flaccid and unchanged. 

"Not even a little, Brother?" she breathed at last, breaking her lips away from his. She rocked her hips against him, and put both his hands on her breasts. "I must arouse you to some extent."

"You...You do." 

He did feel a slight stirring at her movements. It was a natural instinct, Namjoon told him. Namjoon. His mind floated back to their last night together. He imagined Namjoon in his sister's place. Namjoon's chest always felt firm against his hands, his dark nipples hard whenever Yoongi brushed against them. He did this for Vysenna, who giggled and moaned. She bent down to kiss him again, her tongue sliding over his. He let out a soft sigh as she kissed down his body, finally reaching his cock. She felt nothing like Namjoon. Where Namjoon was rough and hard, she was soft and smooth. Her mouth was significantly smaller than his, it did not encompass him like Namjoon's did. The slight arousal he felt died away at the warm lips sucking him. 

Vysenna considered her efforts futile, so she lifted his thighs into an upright position. Yoongi gasped when he felt her tongue sail down his ball sack to his anus. 

"Vysenna-"

"-Doesn't this excite you?" she asked, her finger trailing around his entrance. She grabbed his cock to begin stroking in time with her movements, "Just our mouths aren't going to put a baby inside me, Yoongi."

"Vysenna...You..."

Guilt wormed its way inside him as her finger prodded his backside. Someone, somewhere, was doing the same to Namjoon, who turned nearly feral at the touch. In an instant, Yoongi pulled Vysenna up from her position and placed her on the pillows. Kissing her fiercely, he grabbed at her thighs and spread them. Vysenna grabbed hold of him again and continued pumping his hardening cock. He saw the eagerness in her eyes. He hated to disappoint her when she seemed so happy. He kissed down her body, forcing himself to imagine Namjoon instead. Vysenna lifted her legs instinctively, one hand on her breast and rubbing her nipple as she watched him with red cheeks. Yoongi held her thighs up once he pressed his tongue to her soaked sex. She didn't taste like anything. Not sweet or tangy or salty. His wet tongue immediately found the button buried between velvety folds and rolled around it. Vysenna cried out and pushed herself to his face. She'd surrendered to the fact that he won't penetrate her tonight, yet would enjoy the pleasures he did give. He flicked the small nub over and over, hearing her grow louder. He suckled the juices flowing onto his lips and chin, sticking his tongue inside her while his nose pushed on her clit. His sister soon climaxed, her breaths shaky and muscles tensing to the sensations his mouth gave her. 

When they finished, he wiped his mouth with the corner of the sheet and saw he hadn't become erect at all. Maybe there was something wrong with him. 

"Vysenna-" he began, but she cut him off. 

"It's fine," she said, trying to keep the spite out of her voice. 

Yoongi saw her roll off their bed and pick up her robe from a chair. She pulled it on as she walked away from him. He'd failed yet again. Vysenna poured herself a glass of wine, keeping her back to him the entire time. 

"I'm sorry, Vysenna," he said quietly. "I...I can't-"

"-Can't do it, I know." 

"Vysenna, please, I'm sorry."

She said nothing else. She downed her wine, slammed it on the table, then went back into her adjacent bedchamber. The loud slam of a door made him wince. The husband in him knew she'd forgive him in the morning anyways, and suggest they try something else. But, the brother...the brother who longed to make his younger sister happy, couldn't help but feel guilty. Yoongi slid off the bed to the pitcher of wine on the table. He stared back out the window, knowing Vysenna wept somewhere and it was his fault. He wanted to be like the men in the pleasure houses. He wanted to be like his brother, who married and impregnated his wife within weeks of their marriage. He thought of his mother, who’d given her husband two sons and a daughter, making his line of succession clear. What if Seokjin died and he became king? He’d have no heirs because of his abnormality. Then, what happened when he passed? There’d be another Dance of the Dragons, when House Targaryen nearly tore itself apart over who was next in line. 

He’d finished his cup when he heard the door open again. 

“Vysenna,” he said, “I’m sorry. I really did try to…you know…but, there’s something wrong with me. I’m not normal. You should marry someone else.” 

“There’s nothing wrong with you, Your Grace.”

Yoongi whipped around to see Namjoon at his door in nothing but a dressing gown. He noticed a distinct bump breaking the robe, but the layers kept it hidden well enough. “I thought you went into the city,” Yoongi said, his breath becoming heavy. 

Flashes of Namjoon’s bronze chest came into view, only a small patch of black hair on the top of his chest. Not very thick or very noticeable, Yoongi still liked feeling it when they kissed. “I decided to stay,” he said, his voice low as he came closer, untying his dressing gown. “Those boys in the pleasure houses are pretty, but none of them compare to you, Your Grace.” 

He bit his lip as the flimsy fabric fell away to show Namjoon’s body. Hard muscles and lean curves made Yoongi’s mouth water. He stared further down to see his semi-erect cock hanging between his muscular thighs. His own member instantly twitched at the sight of his bronze god. Yoongi always said The Maiden helped The Warrior create Namjoon, for no single man could be so breathtaking. Namjoon came forward, taking Yoongi’s glass from him and cupping his jaw. Their lips came together softly, caressing and locking together slowly until their tongues rolled against one another. He held onto the table behind him for support as Namjoon’s hands finally touched him. They groped him the way a sculptor shaped a block of clay. His lips left Yoongi’s for his neck, where he sucked the tender flesh as his hands reached around. He moaned deeply, feeling large hands grasp his buttocks and squeeze softly. They continued kneading him while Namjoon’s mouth continued down his body to his nipples. 

“We can’t…” Yoongi whispered, watching Namjoon’s plump lips latch to his nipple and suck it. “Namjoon…”

“The guards aren’t at your door,” he said, licking the opposite nipple now as he continued groping Yoongi’s ass. “Your sister is in her bedroom. Everyone else is asleep, Your Grace.” He rapidly swirled his tongue over one nipple, sending sparks down Yoongi’s body to his groin. “Let’s pretend for a while that you’re not a prince and I’m not a lord,” he nibbled on Yoongi’s nipple and he winced, “Let us pretend I’m a whore you met in a brothel-”

“-Namjoon!” Yoongi giggled despite his hardening arousal. 

“And that you paid tons and tons of gold dragons to fuck me all night.” 

“Oh my gods…Namjoon-”

“-Fuck me, Your Grace,” he said, making a trail of kisses down to his crotch. “Get your money’s worth out of me.”

He groaned once Namjoon’s hot tongue began sliding up and down his shaft. “Gods be good, Namjoon,” he moaned, watching Namjoon’s pink tongue swirl around his tip, “You shouldn’t. We shouldn’t do this here.”

“But, Your Grace,” Namjoon pouted, “Didn’t you pay good money for me?”

“Namjoon, this game is quite-Oh gods…”

Right at that moment, Namjoon wrapped his mouth around the tip and sank down easily. Yoongi kept himself steady against the table as Namjoon sucked him softly. He kept his movements slow and teasing, sliding his tongue against the underside as his mouth worked Yoongi expertly. He fell into a whirlwind of bliss, admiring his beloved from above. Brown eyes gazed back up at him each time he reached the tip. 

“Such a-a good whore,” escaped his lips when Namjoon pushed him to the back of his throat. “So good at sucking my cock like this…”

“I only want to please my prince,” Namjoon muttered, wagging his tongue underneath the leaking head, “And make him cum inside me.”

“Gods yes,” Yoongi breathed, his head tilting back when Namjoon picked up his pace. “I want what I paid for.”

“And what have you paid for, Your Grace?” Namjoon teased, smiling at him while jerking his wet length, “Tell me.”

“A whore with a good mouth and an even better ass. Get up.” 

He nearly lifted Namjoon from the floor, and pressed against his back as they walked to the bed. Namjoon laid on his stomach once he hit the bed, grinding into the soft crimson covers and showing the round cheeks of his ass. Yoongi gave one a sharp smack before spreading them apart. He wasted no time in licking a single stripe between the two firm buttocks, gripping them when he did it a second time. Namjoon groaned into the mattress as Yoongi’s tongue explored his ass. He left soft kisses over each side, going to Namjoon’s spine before sliding down to his clenched ass hole again. Seeing Namjoon’s cock heavy with arousal, Yoongi took hold and stroked while lapping at the balls hanging over it. A thumb brushed over his entrance, a mouth on his balls and a hand teasing his cock, Namjoon soon turned into a whimpering, desperate mess on the bed. 

“This is what I really like,” Yoongi growled against the sensitive sack, “A tight hole and a big cock I can play with for hours.”

“Your Grace…”

“I’m going to fuck you into the bed,” he said, lapping at the base of his member before sucking there. “Fill you with my seed and watch it drip from you as you cum.”

“Oh please, Your Grace, please. I want it.” 

“Do you?” he moved upwards to the hole where he rolled circles around it. He pushed a finger into it gradually, watching it squeeze and suck in his finger once it was fully inside. He groaned feeling it flex and clench around the digit. “I’m definitely going to get my money’s worth out of you, whore,” he said to Namjoon’s hips pushing into his finger, “I have all night to do so.” 

Namjoon clawed at his sheets when a second digit filled him. Yoongi watched his lover’s body tense and glisten from the lights in the room. He admired the strong thighs keeping him upright and the full buttocks in his face. It was a view he could stare at for ages, and keep finding new things to enjoy. He occasionally pecked at the rotund curves, giving a bite here and there, but otherwise simply enjoyed the scene in front of him. He saw clear strings of precum starting to wet his sheets, and he pulled his fingers out. 

 "Lay on your back for me."

Namjoon rolled over and raised his knees like Vysenna had done. Yoongi saw his member, swollen and leaking, and gently took hold of it. Lightly, he lapped at the beads dripping from the tip. They tasted salty, but not overwhelming. It made Yoongi want more. Namjoon’s eyes fell closed in a long groan. He laid still as the prince sucked and licked his cock, stirring up his desire. Yoongi took slow drags up and down his length just so he could hear more long, low groans. One hand on Namjoon's taut stomach, the other continued massaging his balls and rubbing against his entrance. Cupping them, he managed to slide two fingers back inside. Namjoon’s body clenched around them again, and he chuckled hearing the strong knight whining for more. Yoongi did not give in. He continued his gradual pace, savoring every drop and inch of Namjoon. He'd worried he'd never have this again, and didn't know when the next chance would occur. Sinking his fingers deep, he found that familiar knot inside that made Namjoon grip the backs of his knees tightly. Yoongi wiggled his fingers against it and Namjoon would've finished in his mouth had he not pulled away. 

"Your Grace," Namjoon whimpered, "Please."

"No," he responded, swiping his tongue over the bulbous head delicately. "I want my whore to finish when I say so. I am your prince," he emphasized the word by curling his fingers, "You must do as I command."

"Yes…yes, Your Grace."

Yoongi kept his fingers deep and his mouth pressed to Namjoon’s hilt. Whenever he withdrew, his beloved groaned in disappointment. Namjoon released his knees and slid his hands into Yoongi's soft blond hair. Long fingers buried there, but did not push or pull. He simply wanted to touch the person giving him so much pleasure. Yoongi soon released Namjoon's cock and kissed his way to his lips, stopping to nuzzle the trail of dark hair above his waist and the patch on his chest. The brown goatee brushed against Yoongi's lips as he kissed along the jawline before reaching his lips. Yoongi took in everything. The manly parts of him. Not just his cock and balls, but his muscles, pubic areas and beard. He inhaled the scent of wine coming faintly from him, and the sweat and saliva on his skin. A man. A handsome, strong man with a gorgeous face and even nicer backside. 

Yoongi's hand continued fingering him as they kissed. Namjoon moved his hips around to brush against his fingers, and Yoongi did not stop him. He chuckled at the man humping his hand, desperately chasing that satisfying end. It'd been when Yoongi withdrew his fingers that he broke away from Namjoon’s mouth. He said nothing as he let Namjoon's legs wrap around his waist and arms slide around his neck. Both men panted and moaned together as Yoongi carefully sheathed himself inside Namjoon. Once connected, they never parted. Yoongi, propped up on elbows, slowly grinded himself against his lover while he kissed his neck. Any markings he leaves will be dismissed by others as being from a woman Namjoon paid for. He let himself drown in his beloved. Every throaty grunt Namjoon gave became music to his ears. 

It had been when Namjoon flipped him onto his back that the passion boiled over. Hands on Yoongi's chest, Namjoon rode his prince as if he were on horseback. Yoongi's eyes never tore away from him. He looked over Namjoon's muscled form, carved from years of hard training and riding, glistening in the candlelight of his bedchamber. He ran his hands up and down the broad form, letting the tips trace along the defined muscles. His cock stood straight out, bobbing along and spraying droplets onto Yoongi's stomach. He gave it a gentle tug that made Namjoon whine again. He watched the young man eagerly push into his hand as he rocked on top of him. 

"No, no," Yoongi said, taking hold of Namjoon's buttocks, "You keep riding." He slapped both cheeks, "Go on. Keep riding, slut." 

“Ye-Yes, Your Grace,” Namjoon said, continuing as asked. 

It didn't take long before both men began shaking and shuddering. Their passion having taken over, never man lowered his voice as their orgasms filled the room. Namjoon's walls became coated in Yoongi's seed, while streams of semen sprayed over Yoongi's stomach and chest. His orgasm might have come, but Yoongi's mind wished to go on. He'd only scratched the surface with his lover. They did not stop until both their cocks softened, enjoying the pleasure too much to cease on their own. Yoongi chuckled softly, feeling Namjoon clenched around him, and slowly rose and fell even when he'd collapsed on top of him. 

"Don't stop, Your Grace," Namjoon whispered, kissing his neck. "You haven't gotten your fill of me yet."

"How would you know, sweetling?" Yoongi pouted, pushing hair from Namjoon's sweaty brow. 

"Because you've always had an insatiable appetite for things you enjoy." 

Her voice cut struck fear into both men. Namjoon scrambled off Yoongi and the prince reached for a sheet before the laughter made them pause. The pair looked to the adjacent doorway to see Vysenna standing there Yoongi saw her red cheeks and thought she might have been crying, but he'd been wrong. Vysenna hid her laugh behind her hand, shaking her head as she saw their shocked faces.

"Vys...Vysenna," Yoongi's voice shook. His mind scrambled to put words together, and explain what was happening. 

“I think I’ll come back later,” she said, giggling. “You two sleep well.” 

“Vysenna.”

“You ought to be quieter the second round. Otherwise, the whole castle will hear you two.” 

She gave a sly wink before shutting the door again. A wave of fear replaced the content he'd felt moments ago. Vysenna would never tell anyone, but what if someone else hears them? He looked over at Namjoon, who stood on the other side with a sheet covering his lower half. Fear and shame came over his face, his hands gripping the bedsheet in his hands.  

"She saw us," Namjoon said, keeping his voice steady. "She saw us together."

"But, she's my sister-"

"-And your wife-"

"-Yes, yes, and my wife," he dismissed irritably. "She would never tell anyone. She already knows about me. She'd never tell anyone about us." He moved closer to Namjoon and cupped his face, "She loves you just as dearly as she loves me. She'd never reveal our secret to anyone."

"What if she lets it slip? What if one of her handmaidens hears?" 

"Who will believe the word of a simple handmaiden over the Prince and Princess of Dragonstone?"

"It doesn't matter. The smallfolk will talk, and then your brother will hear it and demand the truth," he spoke. "I cannot lie to your brother, Yoongi. He is my king. It'll be considered treason if he caught me lying." 

Fear filled his eyes. It felt strange to see his lover fearful. Namjoon fought in melee combat and jousting tournaments. He'd stood his ground against foes twice his size. Not once did he show fear to his enemies. Namjoon’s always been the one who struck fear first. Yet, the idea of someone spilling his secret made him quiver. Yoongi pressed his lips to Namjoon's, letting it linger as he rubbed his arms comfortingly. 

"You won't have to lie, because Seokjin will never know. Come to bed now, darling. You need your rest for tomorrow morning."

"Yoongi," Namjoon stopped him when he tried bringing him into the bed, "This is serious. If Vysenna-"

"-You truly believe my sister would do such a thing?"

"Yes, because you're her husband and you've yet to give her a child."

"My sister wouldn't throw us to the wolves because of that," he insisted. Then, he remembered Vysenna's burning lust for him. No, he convinced himself. Vysenna might be spiteful at times, but never to her family. She saved that pettiness for ladies at court. "Namjoon, my love, nothing will happen to us."

"And if it does?"

"Then we will face it together," he grabbed his hand again and gently pulled him to the pillows. He immediately curled up against Namjoon, kissing his shoulder, then collarbone and finally his cheek. "It's what we've always done when adversity has come our way, hasn't it?" he smiled softly, "Remember when we were at Casterly Rock and those two Lannister boys challenged us to a duel?" 

Namjoon chortled despite his worries, "I do. I forget their names...One of them was that lumpy boy…Lord Tylas’s son...I think his name was Byron?"

"Tyron," Yoongi corrected him, "The other was Robb Lannister, Lord Tylas’s nephew." 

Yoongi and Namjoon recalled the memory in hopes of chasing away the obvious concerns. He refused to let his night be spoiled. The pair laughed and continued drinking the night away. They made love twice more before surrendering to exhaustion. Yoongi fell asleep, anxious of the future but keeping himself concerned with the present. 

****

Sometime in the early morning, Yoongi felt the bed shift around him. In the twilight between sleeping and waking, he heard quiet rustling moving about the room. The musky scent of sweat and sex still laid on his sheets. He could smell hints of the lavender oil Namjoon often wore embedded into his pillows. He groaned softly, his body starting to stir before a warm hand gently pressed on his back. 

“Sleep, love,” a familiar voice said through the fogginess. “I shall see you on the tourney grounds.” 

A pair of lips kissed his temple, then he fell back to sleep. 

****

What felt like minutes later, he woke to a softer, smaller pair of lips pressing on his. The faint scent of roses hit his senses, and he soon realized who’d crawled into his bed. Vysenna. Between heavy lids, he saw her face inches from his own. By her wide eyes, she’d been awake for some time before now. She gave him a sleepy smile, and kissed him again. The realization that Namjoon was gone and she’d replaced him brought him out of dreams. 

“Vysenna,” he said, “Last night…What you saw…I didn’t mean for you to find out that way.”

“I don’t think you intended for me to find out at all,” she said amusedly. 

“No, no, I didn’t.”

“Why? I’m your sister, Yoongi. I already knew about your preferences before now. You didn’t have to keep your lover a secret from me.”

Her words worsened his guilt. “I didn’t know how to tell you, and with everyone pressuring us to have a child, I…I thought it might upset you more if you knew about him.” 

“Oh, my dear sweet brother,” she kissed his lips, “Did you honestly believe I didn’t know about you and our Namjoon? Namjoon, whom we both grew up next to?”

Yoongi hesitated, still staring at her. She was nude as well, no doubt to pretend she’d been there all night. “ You knew?”

“I won’t lie and say I did,” she replied, “But I suspected you at least favored for him.”

“How could you have-”

“-Yoongi,” she said bluntly, “Your face lights up every time he enters the room. You cheer the loudest for him at tourney matches. He’s the first person you go to when you have news, and you bring him into conversation whenever you can. You’re in love with him.” 

“It doesn’t mean I don’t love you, though.”

“I’m not some silly naive little girl who believes love must be one way,” she continued. “I know you love me, Brother, and I love you just the same. When Father told me I’d be marrying you and not our cousin, Maekar, I was unbelievably delighted. Marrying you had always been a dream of mine, since we were children playing in the nursery. I will admit it hurt me when I realized you’d never find me attractive-”

“-I do find you attractive. I really do. It…It only takes me a while, that’s all.”

She giggled, “You’re sweet, Brother.” She scooted to him until their knees touched, keeping their hands together. “There are other forms of love, and the one we share is deeper than our physical bodies.” She kissed him deeply, and Yoongi returned it passionately. He pulled her to him, but did not reach for anything else. “I had an idea I’d like to share with you,” she said, pecking his lips. 

“What is it?”

“Since you have difficulty bedding me,” she began, “Why don’t we bring Namjoon to our bed?”

“What?!”

“Shush,” she quieted him, “I thought perhaps he could get you going, and once you’re about to finish, you spill your seed inside me.” 

“What…Vysenna…”

“Yoongi, you must get me pregnant,” she replied sternly. “If we do not, the line of succession will be left in the air should you become King after our brother. People have already voiced suspicions, and it won’t be long before Seokjin begins asking questions. Baenera’s poking her nose in already. She’s concerned that perhaps you can’t perform well. She gave me this bottle of elixir she’d gotten from a Lysine merchant, and told me to put two drops in your wine at dinner.”

Yoongi laughed, “She gave you a love potion?”

“It’s not a love potion, but that’s besides the point,” she said, “A child needs to come out of marriage. We can only convince people we’re trying for so long. So, if we’ve found a possible solution to this issue, we should explore it.” She then smiled, “I think it’ll benefit everyone involved in the end.” She kissed him again, her hand going through his tousled hair, “Especially me.”

“You?”

“I get to see what Namjoon’s cock feels like.” 

“Vysenna!”

“I’m not going to let you have all the fun,” she sneered, “Not when one of the most handsome lords in the kingdom is in my marriage bed. I honestly had no idea he was that large,” she continued teasingly. “Seven Hells, Yoongi. Now I know why you’d sit on pillows after your hunting excursions,” she laughed.

“I used to get riding sores,” he lied through a laugh. He grabbed a pillow from behind him and lightly hit her with it. “You know that.”

“Oh, I imagine you were sore for certain!”

She grabbed a pillow and hit him back. The couple sat up and playfully fought until the chamber door opened. 

“Your Grace,” it was one of Vysenna’s handmaidens. Her eyes went wide when she saw the naked couple on the bed, pillows in hand and cheeks red from laughing. “Would you both care for breakfast?” 

“Yes,” Vysenna groaned, “Please, I’m starving.” She gave the girl a cheeky smile, “He can work up quite the appetite in the morning.” 

She instructed the girl to bring a breakfast of toasted bread with honey and fruit preserves, milk, eggs and bacon. Yoongi noticed her heavy implications of a passionate night between them before ushering the girl out of the room. The door closed, Vysenna and Yoongi shared stifled laughter as she picked up her dressing gown. “You should put something on before she comes back.”

“Namjoon won’t agree,” Yoongi told her when she’d sat down at their dining table. He stayed on the bed, the sheets over his privates, unwilling to leave the comfort just yet. “He already hates the idea of us even laying naked together. It'll be hard to convince him to sit there while I pump my seed inside you.”

“But he understands duty as well. He’s just as bothered by the rumors and whispers as you and I are,” she snickered suddenly. “He’d gotten into a quarrel with one of Hoseok Tully’s brothers the other night when the lad said I must have ugly teats.”

“He didn’t hit the boy, did he?”

“No, but the boy pissed himself for sure,” she snickered. “Namjoon’s as concerned about our situation as we are. He doesn’t want people speaking poorly of either of us.” She saw her brother’s hesitancy, “At least speak to him about it today? Let the idea stew in his head for a while before you both make a decision?” 

Yoongi knew it’ll be difficult to convince Namjoon. He knew if the roles were reversed, he wouldn’t agree either. But, it’d also been Namjoon who encouraged him to fulfill his duty last night. If Yoongi proposed it as strictly an act of duty to The Crown, maybe Namjoon will consider it. He understood the logic of his sister’s proposal. He needed only to be hard and close to orgasm for the baby to happen. The benefit of having his gorgeous sister and his beloved in his bed together only sweetened the deal. He idly thought of them both kissing, and it did not upset him.

“If he says no,” Yoongi then said, “I will have no more discussion about it. I will not force him into a situation he does not want.” 

“If he says no, then I’ll drop it,” she agreed. “I’ll never mention it again, and we will find a different solution to our problem.” 

Yoongi slipped from the bed, pulled on his dressing down, and kissed the top of her head. He wondered when he’d bring the proposition to Namjoon. He guessed Namjoon was down on the tourney grounds now, being attended to by his squire, Jungkook, and preparing for the day’s events. He’ll be inspecting his armor and lance right now. He might’ve sent Jungkook to the blacksmith to replace any pieces or mend any dents in the plated steel. Yoongi didn’t want to distract him before such a dangerous event. Perhaps at the feast? If Namjoon lost the day, Yoongi and Vysenna could uplift his spirits. If he’d won, then it’d be a celebratory gift from the couple. 

Regardless, should Namjoon decline, then they were back to square one. 

#btswritersclub #bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #kim namjoon #min yoongi #rm #suga #asoiaf au #bts suga #bts rm #namgi #namgi smut #namgi angst #yoongi x namjoon

[jemshopes]

Don't Step On Me || Namgi

--SINGLE PARENT NAMJOON

--CAT HYBRID YOONGI WHO OWNS A CAT CAFE

--DOMESTIC FLUFF

--Just a prompt kind of idea -Thinking about cat-hybrid Yoongi who runs a cat cafe (and who mostly hides the fact he's a hybrid) and single dad Namjoon who comes in one day and accidentally steps on Yoongi's tail. 

***

Yoongi is very cautious about letting people know he’s a hybrid, it makes him anxious because people tend to ask a lot of questions he’s not comfortable answering. They always want to touch his ears and his tail–sometimes without asking. Plus, he’s a cat-hybrid, he has cat-like qualities. He likes to keep to himself, he’s naturally a pretty private and independent person, content on his own apart from the rare and intense moments he begins to miss being in relationships. But with his cats at the cafe and his two human friends (Jimin and Taehyung), he really doesn’t feel the need to branch outside of his social circle that much. Ever, in fact. He hates it. 

So when Namjoon steps on his tail, it freaks him out, to say the least. Every nerve in his body is alert, afraid, and in pain. He senses it when Namjoon steps through the door the next day, before he’s even turned to look. He remembers Namjoon’s smell, Namjoon’s little humming, Namjoon’s deep voice as he bends down and talks to one of the cats. 

Safe behind the counter this time, Yoongi manages a smile when Namjoon approaches, but he’s not so sure when Namjoon orders coffee and proceeds to tell him he’s been thinking of adopting a cat and does Yoongi—being the owner of a cat cafe—know of anywhere he can do that? It’s just, Namjoon’s kid loves cats and since they visited a friend's house last year and the kid saw their cat, she really hasn't let the idea go. You wouldn’t think a three year old would be able to latch onto an idea so strongly, but she has. And she really was so lovely with their friend's cat, so he thinks she’ll be okay with a cat of their own around so long as they find a calm one. 

Yoongi has serious doubts as to whether Namjoon should have any cats in the house what with his clear eye-foot coordination issues in regards to tails, but Namjoon has dimples and talks really sweetly about his daughter and how they’ll look after the cat. He really has thought deeply about this. He talks a lot. In fact, he doesn’t stop talking until Yoongi interrupts him.

And so commences a cute, wholesome, shy romance when, after coming into the cat cafe almost every day for a month (and running out of excuses to come in every day and talk to Yoongi every day), Namjoon finally blurts out the question he’s been wanting to ask all this time: “Would you want to get coffee? With me. Romantically.” Yoongi is rendered speechless. He hasn’t been asked out in ages. He purposely avoids dates most of the time. There aren’t a whole lot of humans who want to date him. The ones that do consider it are often weirdo’s who fetishise him. Dating apps are just an absolute nightmare.

So he has to pose the question, “You know I have a tail, right?” He was supposed to ask if Namjoon knew he was a hybrid, but it didn’t quite come out the right way.

“Yeah, I-I stepped on it, don’t you remember?”

“I was making sure you remembered. When you have a tail, you don’t forget when someone steps on it.”

“I remember. It’s a hard thing to forget.”

“So… why do you want to go out with me?” Another very important question. 

“Because I have a crush on you?” Namjoon says, like he’s searching Yoongi’s face, testing the words to see if they’re what Yoongi’s looking for. “Um… you seem nice and you look nice and I enjoy talking to you and… and… I like your smile… and your laugh… and I want to get to know you better…” 

Now, of course, after that little speech, how can Yoongi say no? 

There are coffee dates, dinner dates–they both agree after the first one being a disaster, that they’ll stick to informal dates from now on. Neither of them can do fancy restaurants, they much prefer eating street food sitting on a park bench. Or drinking coffee on a park bench. Or just sitting and talking on a park be–the point is they really like meeting at this one park bench, okay? Around their fifth date they’d discovered they both really like the local park and it’s actually a park that’s a really convenient distance from Namjoon’s work and Yoongi’s cafe. So they meet there during their lunch breaks a lot. Sure, they could meet at the cafe, but it’s nicer being somewhere else. 

It’s shy and a little awkward at first, especially for Yoongi because he’s on high alert still in regards to Namjoon’s feet and also his being human. But soon it gets comfortable, even though the inevitable hybrid talk will have to come up. And really the talk they need to have about Namjoon’s kid. 

They kiss on the tenth date, in the doorway of Yoongi’s cafe. It’s evening and cold, but Namjoon’s mouth is warm and his body is warm as Yoongi presses close, presses him into the door. His lips are soft and taste like the hotteok they’d eaten earlier. 

Of course, they do get into the awkward conversations, the ones where Namjoon does have to ask questions about what Yoongi’s body is like compared to his–-will sex be different? What does Yoongi get like during his heat? What about touching Yoongi’s tail and ears? How does he feel about that?---and they do discuss Namjoon’s kid; Yoongi meeting Namjoon’s kid, Yoongi potentially becoming a parent to Namjoon’s kid if their relationship gets serious, Yoongi’s opinion on children, how he thinks he would parent, but those are questions that come months into their relationship. 

They meet each other's friends, they have sex, Yoongi’s first heat around Namjoon goes well. It’s not exactly like the rumours Namjoon has been told, where hybrids ‘lose control’ because of their biological urges. Yoongi just gets very clingy and—yes—very eager for sex, but it’s not unmanageable and if Namjoon says no, Yoongi respects that. 

The day Yoongi meets Namjoon’s kid for the first time is a big one, only Yoongi doesn’t realise it until after their date when Namjoon asks suddenly if he wants to come back to his place. And so they go up to relieve the babysitter and for the first time Yoongi lays eyes on the little girl he’s heard so much about, the little girl who is the reason for him and Namjoon meeting in the first place. 

The little girl who grabs his tail and shrieks the second she sees he has a tail because, ‘DADDY, DADDY, DADDY, TAIL, TAIL, CAT CAT CAT CAT!” 

Needless to say, Namjoon is mortified and Yoongi’s nerves are shattered, and Namjoon has to pick his daughter up and make her sit on the couch to give her a telling off and explain she can’t just grab people! Would she like it if someone grabbed her hair and pulled it? No, she wouldn’t. The same goes for Yoongi’s tail, it’s like if someone pulled her hair. 

It takes some adjusting, getting to know Namjoon’s daughter. The kid is obsessed with Yoongi's ears. For the first few weeks, whenever Yoongi has his tail out, the kid wants to grab it, which unnerves Yoongi and which Namjoon apologises for every time, but god damn it the kid is so cute, it’s difficult to feel anything besides joy at how big and round her eyes get. So one time he gives in and lets the kid play with his tail, like holding it just out of the kid's reach and letting the kid almost touch it, but then moving it away. Every time the kid screams in delight because it's so fluffy and soft AND IT’S A CAT TAIL, LIKE THE ONE THEIR PET CAT HAS, BUT BIGGER!

But you see, with children, you can't play a game once unless you want to play it every single second of every single day. So now he has to play the game with the kid all the time (not that he minds, but oh my lord). 

Yeah, anyway, I just like the idea of single parent Namjoon x cat hybrid Yoongi being cute and domestic with a child, trying to work out the intricacies of relationships (especially the parts that make Yoongi different because of his hybrid genes). It’s soft and tender, getting to know each other's likes and dislikes, each other's bodies, each other's mood swings and hobbies. Observing little things about each other, like how Yoongi’s eyes crinkle when he laughs or how Namjoon twiddles his thumbs when he’s nervous. All that cute and adorable coupley stuff. Yeaah. 

That’s all.  _____________________

If you happened to enjoy this please consider following me on AO3 and Twitter. (:

#yoongi x namjoon #bts au #namgi au #cat hybrid yoongi #cat hybrid #single parent namjoon #fluff #bts fluff

[btschooseafic]

AO3 Recs

might as well by donateblood [completed]

namjoon x yoongi, jungkook x taehyung x jimin, lowkey crack, magic, animals

yoongi is a nightguard at an animal rescue center. then a young man appears, saying he needs to turn his boyfriends back into humans/ chaotic, loved it

#bts fanfic #bts fanfic recs #ao3 #archive of our own #namjoon x yoongi #yoongi x namjoon #namgi #jungkook x taehyung x jimin #vminkook #Magic #animals #donateblood

[cutest-bunny-writings]

*cough* It's canon that omega Yoongi smothers his face in Namjoon's tiddies to feel better.

#omega!yoongi #omega!namjoon #omega!namjoon x omega!yoongi #bts yoongi #min yoongi #bts min yoongi #yoongi #yoongi x namjoon #bts namgi #namgi

[marxy-06]

Favorites Fic Recs 5

Thank you to all the amazing writers <3

Kim Seokjin

Broken happy ever after (@taexual)

Of bears and bonds (@yoonia)

Switched (@i-am-baechu)

Scale (@shina913)

Kyoho (@jeonqkooks)

End of the line (@kookslastbutton)

Min Yoongi

Only for you (@beautifulfuckup99)

Fix you (@casuallyimagining)

The one that I adore (@gimmethatagustd)

Man of the year (@raplinesmoon)

Wishes (@i-am-baechu)

Set me free (@casuallyimagining)

Jung Hoseok

Flower (@readyplayerhobi)

Dinner plans cancelled (@souryoong)

Close call (@xjoonchildx)

Bloom (@7deadlysinsfics)

Kim Namjoon

My girl (@beautifulfuckup99)

Like couples do (@jinkookspencil)

Face sitting (@euphoricfilter)

B.S standards (@katnisspeetaprim)

Pregnancy insecurity (@katnisspeetaprim) NAMJOON

Park Jimin

Love Bug (@httpjeon)

Photograph (@i-am-baechu)

Wanna watch a sex tape (@gimmethatagustd)

Into you (@phenomenalgirl9)

Kim Taehyung

Still waters run deep (@btsmosphere)

Something blue (@moni-logues)

A human touch (@snackhobi)

Let love be enough (@jingabitch)

My tears ricochet (@augustbutwinter)

Goodbye (@jjksblackgf)

Wanna watch a sex tape (@gimmethatagustd)

That Irish barista (@i-am-baechu)

Race to your heart (@jjkeverlast)

Loverboy (@kookslastbutton)

Jeon Jungkook

Do it right (@rerefundslocals)

Gold is dull (@kookluvre) -> (hasn't been updated in awhile but def worth the read)

Best friends (@trivia-yandere)

Need you (@archivedkookie)

Across a crowded room (@monimonimoon)

A little reminder (@beautifulfuckup99)

University superstar (@jungkookstatts)

But we loved too young (@jl-micasea-fics)

Skirt chasers (@1kook)

Big enough for both of us (@btsmosphere)

Bodywork (@angeljeonjk97)

Deep in the woods (@angllicjk)

Angel in the marble (@venusjeon)

Was it better (@gyukookswhore)

97 (@rrjkive)

Lemon sherbet (@extravaguk)

The m-word (@hansolmates)

Head over skates (@mercurygguk)

Gun (@kooeater)

Café o lay (@taesspark)

Guilty pleasures (@kookslastbutton)

Purple car (@fruitmins)

Until my last breath (@iamjungkooked)

Don't want your sympathy (@sketchguk)

Couples shoot (@katnisspeetaprim)

What we need (@jungkookstatts)

Praising (@neo-percs)

Show you what devotion is (@euaphoric)

Pluto (@katnisspeetaprim)

Cherry candy (@bonny-kookoo)

OT7

Before I leave you (@hollyhomburg)

#bts namjoon #bts x reader #fanfic #fanfic rec #bts fanfic #writing #bts taehyung #bts jhope #bts #bts jungkook #bts jimin #seokjin #jimin #taehyung #namjoon #bangtan #bts army #min yoongi #bts jung hoseok

[daegudrama]

i made a side blog for my upcoming fic @wildflowerfingertipsonme

i may expand on the world and i want to be able to look back on any questions people have

#wildflower fingertips on me #fanfiction #yoongi x namjoon #yoongi x reader #yoongi x jimin #namjoon x jimin #jimin x reader #namjoon x reader #neis birthday special

[euphoricfilter]

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• ° kinktober masterlist

31 days of smut let’s get it °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

please read the warnings for each chapter!!

･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ.

☆ day 1 ~ taehyung: breeding kink

tags/ warnings: pwp, unprotected sex, breeding kink, baby talk (but no actual kids because yuck)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 2 ~ : jimin: pet play

tags/ warnings: pwp, pet play, ass play, fingering of both holes, butt plugs, mild dumbification

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 3 ~ jungkook: thigh riding

tags/ warnings: pwp, thigh riding, cumming untouched, implied use of recreational drugs (weed)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 4 ~ hoseok: somnophilia

tags/ warnings: pwp, somnophilia, consensual drugging, oral (f. receiving), unprotected sex

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 5 ~ yoongi: praise kink

tags/warnings: pwp, oral (m. receiving), praise kink, vaginal fingering, cum swallowing

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 6 ~seokjin: corruption kink

tags/ warnings: pwp, corruption kink, he’s a little condescending too, just jin teaching you how to touch yourself?, fingering, cumming untouched

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 7 ~ namjoon: double penetration

tags/ warnings: pwp, use of a dildo (the ones that have a hole for fake cum), double penetration, unprotected sex, creampie x2 ?, squirting

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 8 ~ jungkook: size kink

tags/ warnings: pwp, unprotected sex, creampie, size kink, he’s hung okay? whatever you’re thinking make it bigger— he has a fat cock, belly bulge

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 9 ~ taehyung: watersports

tags/ warnings: pwp, watersports (pee), cumming untouched, literally wet and messy

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 10 ~ jimin: cock warming

tags/warnings: pwp, unprotected sex, creampie, cock warming

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 11 ~ hoseok: oral fixation

tags/ warnings: pwp, fingers in mouth!!!! (lets gooo), oral (m. receiving), cum swallowing, subspace, condescending dom hoseok!!! (lets gooooooo!!!)

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 12 ~ yoongi: overstimulation

tags/ warnings: pwp, vibrator, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, squirting, minor oral? (f. receiving), unprotected sex

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 13 ~ seokjin: creampie

tags/ warnings: pwp, unprotected sex, creampie, cum kink, lil spanking action

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 14 ~ namjoon: face sitting

tags/ warnings: pwp, touched on insecurities, face sitting, namjoon’s a munch, grinding, pleasure dom joon

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 15 ~ jungkook: fingering

tags/ warnings: pwp, fingering, a singular slap to the pussy, squirting, cumming untouched, cum swallowing? sort of? cum is ingested basically, all very lighthearted and fun

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 16 ~ taehyung: spit kink

tags/ warnings: pwp, spitting in a mouth (yum?), wet and messy, unprotected sex, creampie

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 17 ~ jimin: mirror sex

tags/ warnings: pwp, unprotected sex, fingering, exhibitionism? kinda, they just fuck in a public gym, the panties stayed on, finger in mouth !!!!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: .☽ . :☆ﾟ. ───

☆ day 18 ~ hoseok: squirting

☆ day 19 ~ yoongi: free use

☆ day 20 ~ seokjin: spanking

☆ day 21 ~ namjoon: voyeurism

☆ day 22 ~ jungkook: exhibitionism

☆ day 23 ~ taehyung: knotted dildo

☆ day 24 ~ jimin: role play

☆ day 25 ~ hoseok: primal play

☆ day 26 ~ yoongi: shibari

☆ day 27 ~ seokjin: vibrator

☆ day 28 ~ namjoon: cum stuffing

☆ day 29 ~ jungkook: pantie kink

☆ day 30 ~ taehyung: belly bulge

☆ day 31 ~ yoongi: mask kink

#bts smut #bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts kinktober #jungkook smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut #hoseok smut #namjoon smut #yoongi smut #seokjin smut #bts x reader #jungkook fanfic #jimin fanfic #taehyung fanfic #namjoon fic #seokjin fanfic #yoongi fanfic #bts #hoseok fanfic

[curryshesus]

bts fics that radiate sheer utter brilliance

(aka my favorite fics of all time) pt. 1

hello, hello! please make sure to show your love and support to these lovely authors if you enjoyed any of these reads as much as i did <3 note: all of these fics contain nsfw content (minors dni please). enjoy!

➺ the road to you - by @bonvoyagenoona

| ot7 x reader (tae focus) | 110k

au of all aus, best friend!taehyung, high school boyfriend!jimin, professor!yoongi, college boyfriend!jungkook, art enthusiast and city heartthrob!namjoon, barista!hobi, actor!jin, angst, fluff, smut, series

>>summary: "armed with your quick wit, creative passion, talent for storytelling, and innate understanding of your fanbase, you have met every challenge, surpassed every goal, and achieved the unimaginable. despite the earth shifting erratically under your firmly planted feet, you’ve always had a plan. you’ve made peace with the sacrifices you’ve had to make, and you’ve long forgotten the rejections and heartbreaks that came as a result. your agent keeps reminding you that you’re at the precipice of something new, that your audience is waiting for your next project with bated breath. this is usually when you thrive. so why do you feel so lost? and who can you count on from your past to help you find your way?"

➺ matilda - by @babystrcandy

| yoongi x reader | 141.8k

brother’s best friend au, f2e2f2l, slice of life, angst, fluff, eventual smut, series

>> summary: "loneliness had always been a constant for you, haunting you like a ghost; until your older brother’s best friend, min yoongi, came into your life. you both promised each other something back then - you’d always have his support and he’d always have yours. but with time and age, you weren’t sure how much that all still stood to be true."

➺ bitchin' - by @kinktae

| jungkook x reader | 49.5k

1980’s au, inspired by to all the boys i’ve loved before, e2l, fake lovers/college au, frat boy!jungkook, smut, series

>> summary: "the 80s were a time of choices. which perm was right for you? what color neon would you wear next? none of these choices, however, were more questionable than a certain deal you made with jeon jungkook."

➺ flower - by @readyplayerhobi

| hoseok x reader |

online dating au, fluff, future angst, future smut, series

>> summary: "you finally decide to take a dip into the world of online dating and find the flower dating app. one of the top matches for you proves to be a guy who looks to be your complete opposite; tattooed, pierced, a metalhead and oh…incredibly handsome. what happens when you throw caution to the wind and reach out to him?

➺ suncity - by @jamaisjoons

| hoseok x reader | 17k

strangers to lovers au, vacation au, angst, fluff, smut, oneshot

>> summary: "when you’d taken a spontaneous trip to barcelona, you hadn’t expected to meet hoseok. more than that, you hadn’t expected to begin a torrid affair with him."

➺ idealizations concerning real life relations - by @venusiangguk

| jungkook x reader | 40.9k

fuckboy!jk x hopeless romantic!oc, s2l, fwb, smut, angst, oneshot

>> summary: "jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return."

➺ peach parfait - by @jamaisjoons

| seokjin x reader | 19k

enemies to lovers au, fluff, smut, slight angst, two parts

>> summary: "you and seokjin have always been at odds as the top two chefs at big hit academy of culinary arts."

➺ tell me no lies - by @jeongi

| jungkook x reader | 15.1k

ceo au, criminal au, robbers au, angst, smut, minimal fluff

>> summary: "you chose to rob your boss, however; you never expected to fall in love with him."

➺ concrete king - by @bratkook

| jungkook x reader | 16.7k

sweet summer romance, fluff, smut, himbo energy, two parts

>> summary: "when a cute boy in a tacky hawaiian shirt lands a trick in your honor there's no way you could ever say no to him."

#bts fic rec #fic recs #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts x oc #bts angst #bts smut #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #taehyung angst #taehyung smut #jimin angst #jimin smut #yoongi angst #yoongi smut #bts fan fiction #fic rec list #namjoon angst #namjoon smut #hoseok angst #hoseok smut #seokjin angst #seokjin smut #bts masterlist #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #seokjin x reader #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader

[rainbowsuitcase]

Fanfic Rec Friday #7

make me touch you, make me love you by stellataes - Yoongi x Namjoon, 17 681 words, E - Friends with Benefits to Lovers, Idiots in Love

Namjoon finds out that orgasms make your brain release dopamine. And dopamine makes you feel happy. Thing is, his best friend Yoongi has been so sad lately. Luckily, Namjoon knows just the cure.

all is fair in love and war by sseoltangie - Yoongi x Hoseok, 13 727 words, T - Highschool AU, Teenage Rebellion, Petty Revenge

When Yoongi wants to take revenge on his ex-boyfriend by keying his stupid car, Hoseok catches him.

Like the Movies by stellataes - Yoongi x Taehyung, 18 202 words, M - Famous Taehyung, Fluff, Love at First Sight

Min Yoongi's perfect life is turned upside down when world famous actor Kim Taehyung takes shelter from the rain in his bookstore. Only, Yoongi doesn't know he is world famous actor Kim Taehyung.

The Flickering Warmth of Love by Lssimpson999 - Yoongi x Hoseok x Namjoon, 36 413 words, E - Canonverse, Established Namgi, Friends with Benefits, Secret Relationship

The friends with benefits rapline fic with established Namgi and Hoseok who broke his promise not to fall in love.

I’ll drink you in (Deep into my throat, the whiskey that is you) by @mydis-ease - Seokjin x Namjoon x Jungkook, 57 043 words, E - Established Namjin, Age Gap (around 20 years, no underage), Dom/Sub

Crushing on your dad’s incredibly attractive friend sounds like all fun and games until you realize you’re going to be stuck working with him and his new husband for weeks. Nevertheless, that’s where Jungkook finds himself.

The List by Nisaki - Seokjin x Taehyung, 46 952 words, E - Toxic Relationship, Angst with a Happy Ending, Actor Seokjin

He ignores the matter of the list for awhile and as long as he pretends it's not happening he's tentatively content. Until the night his boyfriend gets promoted and they go out to celebrate and Taehyung finds himself ten meters away from a man he's always thought of as unreal and out of his realm.

Kim Seokjin.

The only name on his OK to Sleep With List.

Fast, Furious, and Falling in Love - Series by myheartandsoulbelongtonamjoon (couldn't find socmed) - Namjoon x Jimin, 18 456 words, M - Detective Namjoon, Criminal Jimin, Fluff and Smut, Hate to Love

Namjoon is the star detective of the NYPD. Jimin is the car thief and street racer who helps him solve cases out of the goodness of his heart--and the heady desire that clouds his mind and stirs his dick whenever they're together.

Fall For Me, Burn For Me by thestarskeepfalling - Jimin x Taehyung, 58 609 words, E (for epilogue) - Fantasy AU, Magic Users, Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstanding

Years ago, before the accident, before the lies, before everything, Jimin and Taehyung were the best of friends. Studying to be mages at the top university in the country, their futures looked bright. There was nothing they couldn’t do when they were side-by-side. But then, a single day changed everything.

Now, when an outside threat brings them hurtling back into each other’s lives, will the fire that burns between them heal what was broken? Or will it consume them entirely?

Practice Makes Perfect by beebalm (couldn't find socmed) - Yoongi x Namjoon, 67 947 words, E - Practice Kissing, Virgin Yoongi, Friends with Benefits

Yoongi has never been kissed. He asks Namjoon to help him out.

BONUS - Seokjin x Jimin Twitter AU, 81 parts, Soulmates, Crack

#fic recs #bts fic #namjoon fic #seokjin fic #yoongi fic #hoseok fic #jimin fic #taehyung fic #jungkook fic #poly fic #yoongi x namjoon #namgi fic #yoongi x hoseok #sope fic #yoongi x taehyung #taegi fic #yoongi x hoseok x namjoon #namgiseok fic #seokjin x namjoon x jungkook #namjinkook fic #seokjin x taehyung #taejin fic #namjoon x jimin #minimoni fic #minjoon fic #jimin x taehyung #vmin fic #socmed au #seokjin x jimin #jinmin fic