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BTS Drabble Collection

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This is a collection of drabbles written as a milestone celebration on tumblr. The phrases in bold are the prompts I was given. The chapters will vary from T to E, ratings-wise, but I've chosen to mark the collection as E to be safe. Please enjoy!

Chapter Text

Starlight gleams in Jungkook’s eyes as you tilt your head. “What did you say?”

“I said, we should skinny dip.” His smile is a dare.

You gaze out at the tranquil ocean. No one is around for miles, besides your friends, all of whom are asleep right now, back at the beach house.

You were the one who’d suggested taking a stroll along the water’s edge, not ready to call it a night. Not ready to leave Jungkook’s side. What could be more perfect than walking with him, by the ocean, under the bright light of the moon?

“Okay.” Jungkook’s eyes widen slightly. He didn’t think you’d agree. That just spurs you on more. “Fuck it. Let’s go for a swim.”

You turn your back, tugging your dress over your head. A glance over your shoulder finds Jungkook frozen. Staring. You’re not sure if he’s still surprised you said yes, or that you’re already undressing, or at the realization that you wear nothing underneath your flimsy dress.

“Come on!” you urge him, chucking the soft material in your hands at his head. He utters a tiny “oof!” and you giggle as you run into the ocean, diving under once you’re waist deep.

The icy water is an absolute shock to your system, and you sputter as you reemerge. There’s a splash next to you and Jungkook shoots up, dark hair breaking the surface as he yelps, “Goddamn, that’s cold!”

Laughing, you send a handful of water his way. “This was your idea, dummy!”

“Yeah, and you went along with it, so really, who’s the dumb one here?” He slaps his hands against the surface, chuckling as you try and fail to avoid the spray.

After a few minutes of intense splashing, you both still, bobbing quietly.

You need to know. “Were you checking me out?” The reflection of the night sky on the ocean bathes Jungkook’s face in a soft glow as he peers at you before answering.

“When? On the beach? Yes.” You weren’t expecting him to be so blunt. It must show. “Before that, at the party, when you came downstairs in that dress? Yes.” He glides closer, one hand grabbing yours, pulling you to him. “On the way to the beach house? Every day before that, every time I saw you on campus? Yes, yes, yes.”

His arms clasp around your waist as you float together. Your fingertips dance along his shoulders as he presses against you. A cloud passes over the moon, but you don’t need any light to find his lips. You gasp into his mouth as his fingers slide to your core, stroking and plunging to find the warmth inside.

In the morning, there will be questions to answer. And sand to clean. Everywhere. But for now, there is nothing but the moon, and the ocean, and his name on your tongue as you come undone in the gentle swell of the waves.

Chapter Text

“Jimin!” you whine, head tossing back against the shelf behind you. The supply closet isn’t really big enough to accommodate two people at a time. You’re sure you’ll need to straighten up in here before leaving. “The meeting is in fifteen minutes. Which means you’ve got ten to get me off - so stop teasing!”

Ten? I only need five,” your boyfriend proclaims with a cocky grin. His fingers are busy plundering your depths as you moan.

If anyone walked in now, there’s no way you’d be able to explain why your skirt is around your waist, your panties are on the ground, and your boyfriend is kneeling in front of you with one of your thighs on his shoulder. But that’s what makes this so exciting. And you really need some stimulation if you’re going to survive the meeting scheduled for this afternoon.

Lowering his plush lips to your center, Jimin kisses you gently, then harder, the metal of his lip ring pressing into your clit, and you keen, arm extending and knocking over several canisters of pens.

“Fuck! I’m making such a mess.”

“You sure are,” Jimin hums, licking a stripe along your sodden folds. “All over my face!”

A groan slips through your kiss-swollen lips, half at your boyfriend’s dumb joke, half in ecstasy. The pleasure builds as Jimin’s fingers and mouth never waver from his promise and you feel your orgasm bubbling up until you pop.

“Ohhhhh, fuck, baby, I love you so much!” you gasp as you cum.

Jimin stops his ministrations immediately, rocking back on his heels as he peers up at you. “You what?”

Your eyes fly open as you glance down. “I, uh, I didn’t mean to say that… but yeah, I love you.”

Jimin continues to stare at you until you start to get fidgety.

“Okay, you need to say something soon or I’m going to freak out,” you declare, putting your foot down physically and metaphorically.

Jimin rises and slips his arms around you. “I can’t say this is how or where I imagined telling you this, but… I love you too,” he breathes your name softly, nose nuzzling yours.

It’s hard to kiss while you’re smiling, but damned if you don’t try anyway.

“Mmmm,” you hum, breaking away long enough to look at your watch. “We’re going to be late for the meeting.”

Jimin shrugs, lips buried in the crook of your neck. “They’ll just have to wait. We’re the ones running the damn thing, after all.” He laughs against your skin, the warm air a delicious contrast to the chill of the air conditioning. “Besides, I’ve got important business to handle here.”

“Oh yeah? Such as?”

“Such as seeing how many more orgasms I can give you in another five minutes.”

Chapter Text

Another awful date. You chuck your purse onto the couch and stalk into your room. Exchanging your dress and heels for a t-shirt and shorts, you flop onto your bed. Why do you even bother going? None of these dates are ever what you want.

They’re never who you want.

You feel antsy, on edge. In need of a release. Reaching into your nightstand, you grab your favorite toy.

The apartment is empty tonight, since your roommate Jungkook is out with friends. You flip the vibrator on. Maybe they’re at a club. As you glide the tiny mouth of the toy over your clit, air pulses intensifying when you increase the speed, you wonder if Jungkook is on the dance floor, dark hair falling into his face as his arms wrap around some lucky woman.

You picture him pulling her flush against his strong chest, long fingers digging into her hips as he grinds into her. Before you know it, the faceless woman you’re imagining in your fantasy vanishes, and instead it’s you who Jungkook spins around, slipping his tongue into your mouth as his hands disappear beneath your dress.

You’re moaning now, on the cusp of your climax. There’s no need to hold back since you’re alone. So you don’t, growing louder as your end nears, pretending your roommate is the one making you moan. Wishing he was.

“Jungkook!” you finally cry as your pleasure washes over you. Eventually, it ebbs, and you pull yourself back together to pad to the kitchen for some water.

That’s where you find your roommate, sitting wide-eyed, still as a rock, his dinner growing cold on the table in front of him.

“Jungkook!” Quickly yanking the fridge open, you hide behind the door. Why is he here? “I thought you were going out?” There’s no way he didn’t hear you.

“Changed my mind.”

“Oh,” you reply, still crouching. “Okay.” You can’t stay in the fridge forever, but you also can’t look at him right now or you might combust from embarrassment. Heat is already creeping up your neck. “Uh… I’m calling it an early night, so… g’night.”

When you close the door, he’s standing behind you. You blink, surprised by the sudden nearness of him. His stunned expression is gone, replaced by something much more intense.

“I heard you.”

Fuck.

“Jungkook, I - “

I thought your laugh was the prettiest sound in the world. I was wrong. It’s your moans.

You’ve no idea what to say to that. Not that he waits for you to speak, as he takes a step towards you.

“You said my name. Do you… do you think of me when you touch yourself?” His dark eyes burn into you. There’s nowhere to hide under that gaze.

When you don’t answer, he goes on. “Because I always think of you.”

Fuck.

Slowly, you nod.

He moves closer. His fingertips brush your cheek, breath warms your lips.

“I wonder what pretty sounds you’ll make if I’m the one doing the touching?”

Chapter Text

“I need a drink and I need it now,” you gasp, fanning yourself as you collapse onto the bench. Hoseok slides in beside you, panting.

You rest your head on the back of the booth, oblivious to the way Hoseok gazes at you.

Then Hoseok stretches, and you tip your head, sneaking a peek.

Back and forth, stealing glances.

Sitting across the table, Yoongi sighs.

The two of you have been dancing around each other for weeks, but Yoongi’s the one who’s exhausted. He can’t have another discussion about how pretty your eyes are, or the way Hoseok’s smile lights up a room. Or rather, he can’t keep listening silently while the two of you wax poetic endlessly.

One can take only so much pining.

“You two were really burning it up out there,” Jimin comments from Yoongi’s side. “I thought we’d have to peel you off the dance floor.”

“I was just trying to keep up!” Hoseok grins at you. “Where do you get all that energy? You’re unstoppable!”

That’s the sixth time you’ve complimented me today, Hobi,” you remark, tone a teasing lilt. “If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were in love with me!”

Jimin suddenly snorts beer out his nose, and as you lean over to make sure he’s okay (between loud guffaws), you miss how Hoseok’s eyes widen at your words. But Yoongi notices.

One of you needs to make a move before someone gets hurt. For crying out loud, Jimin’s already nearly drowned in his drink. So Yoongi stares at Hoseok until he senses his gaze.

Hoseok’s eyebrow lifts slightly. Yoongi blinks. Hoseok’s other eyebrow rises. Yoongi jerks his head minutely towards you. Hoseok shakes his head, glancing away, blushing. Yoongi sighs again.

Fine. He’ll do it.

“Hey, about next weekend,” he says to you. “I can’t go.”

Your face falls. “Are you serious? You’re backing out now?”

“Backing out of what?” Jimin inquires, still dabbing beer off his neck.

“Yoongi’s taking me to my cousin’s wedding.” You frown. “What’s changed?”

“My manager’s out next week and I have to cover as assistant manager,” Yoongi shrugs. “Sorry.”

The pout on your face is lethal, Yoongi thinks, and Hoseok’s a goner in three, two….

“I can take you!” Hoseok blurts.

You look surprised. “Really? It’s out of town, and you won’t know anyone but me, Yoongi at least knows my cousin, and it’s so last minute - ”

Hoseok doesn’t hesitate. “I don’t mind.”

“Thanks, Hobi,” you beam. “Then, it’s a date.”

Yoongi can practically see little cartoon hearts floating over your heads. He relaxes. Job well done.

You and Hoseok smile shyly at one another for so long that Yoongi imagines he could stand up and do the Macarena naked and neither of you would notice.

Not that he knows the Macarena.

Jimin nudges him. “Did I miss your promotion?” he quietly asks. “Last time I checked, you were an associate like me.”

“Shut up and I’ll make you dinner next weekend,” Yoongi hisses.

“Sold.”

Chapter Text

“Fuck, Tae!”

Your hands slam against the wall as Taehyung thrusts into you relentlessly. If you weren’t bracing yourself, he’d be drilling you through the wall.

“What the fuck oh fuck yes, right there,” He shifts, angling his thick cock to drag perfectly inside you, and the question on your tongue falls apart as you babble praise. He feels so fucking good.

Ten minutes ago, you were hanging out in the kitchen of the beach house, laughing with your friends as you prepared dinner. Five minutes ago, Taehyung had stalked into the room, grabbed you by the wrist, and pulled you into the pantry. Before you could ask him what he was doing, his tongue was down your throat, hand in your pants, and all rational thought was swept from your mind.

And now he’s fucking you like a goddamn jackhammer.

“What fuck shit the fuck jesus fuck are you doing?” you finally gasp out.

“What am I doing?” he huffs, fingers pinching your tits through your shirt as he continues to pound away. “What the fuck are you doing? Did you think I couldn’t hear you flirting with Yoongi? Or see you throwing yourself at him?”

“Fucking what?” You’d been helping Yoongi and Jin in the kitchen. Sure, maybe you used the opportunity to stand a little closer to Yoongi, maybe you giggled a little louder at his jokes, but what did it matter? “We’re not dating anymore, Tae! What the fuck is it to you?”

He stops suddenly, and you whine at the loss of movement. His hand drops to your clit and rubs furiously. You keen, head lolling back onto his shoulder.

“We might have broken up, but look at you.” He snaps his hips once, and you let out a broken wail. “You’re a fucking mess, so needy for my cock. This pussy still belongs to me.”

He resumes his merciless pace, and you have no time to protest before you’re cumming, hard, sobbing Taehyung’s name loudly. A moment later, he’s spilling his own release inside you.

“Goddamn, I could do this all day,” he groans as he pulls out.

You spin, glaring. “You’re not getting another chance. I mean it this time!”

He just smirks, tonguing his lip ring. That’s what you’d said this morning, in the shower. And last night, in the hot tub.

“Sure thing.”

You rip open a pack of paper towels and clean yourself up, still giving him the evil eye. You’re dreading opening that door and facing your friends. From the sounds drifting into the closet, Jin and Yoongi are still cooking.

“I’m sure everyone heard us,” you snarl. “Are you fucking happy now?”

“As a matter of fact, I am.” Taehyung grins. “Now everyone’s going to know you’re mine. Still. Always.”

You hiss, turning away, but his arms wrap around your waist, yanking you against him. You let him hold you. For a second. Then you push him away angrily as he laughs derisively.

“C’mon. Sounds like dinner’s ready.”

Chapter Text

“Damn it, hyung, come on!”

Jimin glances at his watch. 15 minutes ago, he and his roommate were supposed to be meeting their friends at the movie theater.

“Hyung! Let’s go!” Jimin shouts through the bathroom door. “The trailers probably already started!”

Don’t raise your fucking voice at me!

“Then move your fucking ass, ass!”

The shower shuts off and Namjoon bursts out, towel slung low around his hips. Jimin averts his gaze, knowing if he looks, he’ll just end up staring. He’s trying so hard to keep his crush under wraps. Namjoon only thinks of him as a friend.

He can live with unrequited love. But not rejection.

“I’m moving, I’m moving!” Namjoon dashes into his room.

Jimin flops down on the couch, sighing. His roommate isn’t just chronically late. He’s also messy. Forgets to put things away. Constantly breaks stuff. Even sings offkey.

And yet Jimin forgives everything. Because he’s weak.

“Okay, let’s roll.” Jimin hops up as Namjoon appears. And does a double take.

“Uh, is that my shirt?

Namjoon glances down, tugging on the tight t-shirt he wears. The fabric strains to cover his broad chest, outlining his pecs and abs, barely reaching the waistband of his pants. One flex of his biceps and he’s likely to rip the sleeves.

“Yeah, couldn’t find a clean one.” Because he didn’t do his laundry, Jimin finishes silently. “Gonna throw a hoodie over it. Okay if I borrow this?”

So much for not staring. Jimin can’t stop. Namjoon towers over him as Jimin’s brain does a keyboard smash, leaving him without words.

“Jimin?” Namjoon smiles, dimples popping. Jimin adores those precious indentations. “Is it okay if I wear your shirt?”

Jimin tears his gaze away from his roommate’s torso. “Oh yeah,” he finally replies, perhaps too enthusiastically. He cringes inside. What kind of answer was that?

He swallows as he lifts his eyes, taking in Namjoon’s expression. Must’ve been an answer Namjoon wanted to hear, because he looks pleased. Smug. And strangely hungry.

“Should… uh… should we go?” Jimin jerks his head towards the door. But he doesn't move, feet cemented in place by the glimmer in Namjoon’s eyes.

“You like the way it looks?” Namjoon rubs at the thin material.

“I, uh, yeah, it, uh, yeah…” Jimin ends his stumbling by flashing a thumbs up.

So smooth.

Namjoon grins. “If I knew you were gonna react like this, I would’ve borrowed a shirt a long time ago. I’ve never seen you so flustered.” He tilts his head down, smile turning shy. “It’s cute.”

Jimin tries to respond, but his brain’s gone 404.

After several long seconds of silence, Namjoon clears his throat. “So… the movie?”

Jimin thinks about walking towards the door, but that will require him to stop gazing at Namjoon’s lips, and he’s not sure he wants to do that right now.

Someone says, “What movie?” and it’s not until Namjoon laughs that he realizes it was him.

Those dimples are even better up close.

Chapter Text

This isn’t what I had in mind when I yelled ‘fuck you,’” Jin huffs, his long fingers digging into your hips, grinding you down onto him.

“Well,” you pant, “maybe this will teach you to watch your mouth!”

“Why don’t you watch it for me?”

“What does that even me-” He swallows your retort with a sloppy kiss.

Everything about the man inside you is sloppy. Your brother’s best friend has been crashing on your couch all weekend - not because he needs a place to stay, but because he’s too lazy to go home. And your apartment is a total wreck because of him.

You break off the kiss, head falling back as Jin thrusts up into you. His hands cup your breasts as you writhe above him.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he groans. “Wanna live in this cunt. Never leave.”

“Oh hell no, your messy ass isn’t moving in anywhere!” you hiss.

Normally, as long as your brother pays the rent, you don’t care where he goes or who he brings home. But Jin’s been the house guest from hell.

Beer bottles and snack wrappers lie everywhere. The tv blares at all hours. The hot water’s always gone before you shower. And this morning, you opened the fridge to discover he’d eaten the plums you’d been saving for breakfast.

He. Ate. Your. Plums.

That was the last straw. You laid into him about everything. He was all shrugging shoulders and flailing arms, shouting with those pouty lips, chest heaving as you stared at one another angrily.

Then his arms tugged you into his lap. You stopped speaking but your tongues and teeth continued to gnash as you kissed furiously. He grew hard underneath you, and his fingers found you wet and willing, and that’s how you ended up here, bouncing on Jin’s dick.

The only thing more irritating than the man currently fucking you is how much you’re enjoying it.

“Messy? You want me to show you messy??” Jin suddenly sits up, pounding into you with a renewed vigor as you gasp. “I’m gonna cover you in white. Your face, your tits, let it drip all over, hot and sticky.”

Despite yourself, his filthy promise makes you whine before you growl, “Don’t you fucking cum anywhere but inside me!”

That’s enough to push Jin over the edge, his rhythm stuttering as he moans, pumping away into you. With a final pinch of your clit, he brings you with him, and you wail loudly as pleasure consumes you.

Once you catch your breath, you slide off of Jin and lie back on the couch. “Well. Shit. You gonna clean up your mess now or what?”

Jin scowls. “Seriously? You want me to clean the apartment now?”

“I didn’t mean the apartment,” you inform him, thighs parting as you bite your lip. He quirks an eyebrow.

As you lace your fingers into his hair, you grin. “But you are going to clean this place up when you’re done here, too.”

Chapter Text

“I’m leaving.”

You utter the words as you slip your heels back on, fingers flying to your hair to make sure it hasn’t gotten too mussed. Leaving no telltale signs.

Hoseok buttons his shirt. “Sure, you go first. I’ll wait a few minutes.”

“No, Hoseok. I mean I’m going home. Back to America. Next month.”

His hands still as he stares. “Wait, what? You’re… you’re leaving the country?”

You nod.

Every time you’ve imagined this moment, Hoseok falls to his knees, pleading for you to stay. Sobbing. Swearing he’ll call it off, because he loves you.

Reality never lives up to your dreams.

“I suppose that’s for the best,” he states calmly, knotting his tie. It’s crooked. You tut, reaching for it automatically.

It is for the best. Why doesn’t that make it hurt any less?

“I know. In one month, I’ll be home, and so will you. Newly married. Ready for a fresh start.”

He murmurs your name softly, and you look up into eyes brimming with something you don’t dare name. “I’m sorry. I never meant for this to happen. Never meant to hurt you.”

You press a finger to his lips before he can start again. There’s nothing else to say. He’s already explained the details of his arranged marriage so many times that you could recite every word from memory.

He only keeps explaining it because you can’t stay away. You’re like an adrenaline junkie, returning to him again and again, seeking that rush, the high of love, with no regard for your safety. For your heart.

Maybe putting thousands of miles between you will cure you of your insatiable desire.

“It’s my fault, really. I knew you were too good to be true. But I couldn’t stop myself.”

Hoseok laughs, a harsh, scoffing sound. “Please. I’m not good at all.”

The instinct to console him is still there. You need to bury it deep. It’s not your place anymore.

It’s hers.

You run your fingers down the satiny material of his tie. Before you can back away, his hand closes around your wrist, anchoring you to him. “We could run away,” he says, and your head snaps up in surprise. “I could come with you, to America. Make a fresh start together.”

His eyes frantically search yours. You wish you could show him what he wants to see. Instead, you smile wistfully as you gently tug yourself free. “Could you really leave your family behind? Your work, your friends? Your whole world?”

He frowns and says nothing, which tells you everything.

“That’s what I thought.”

As you lightly press your lips to his cheek, he tilts his head and captures your mouth with his. You fall into his embrace once more as he kisses you breathless.

“I wish you could be my whole world,” he whispers.

Your eyes flutter shut, but only for a moment. “I’m leaving now. Wait a few minutes before you go.” He nods. “Goodbye, Hoseok.”

“Goodbye, jagiya.”

You close the door.

Chapter Text

“Oh my god, I’m ruined!”

“It’s not a big deal, baby, I promise,” Jimin consoles you from his seat on a pallet of boxes.

You just shake your head, pacing.

“We never should’ve done this,” you groan.

Jimin had been just as surprised as you the first time it happened. Out dancing one night, your boyfriend’s magical hips and roaming hands got you more hot and bothered than usual. Unable to wait to get home, you’d pulled him behind a velvet curtain in the corner of the club. Jimin’s eyebrows shot up as you unzipped his pants.

“Here?” he gasped as you stroked him to hardness, tugging your panties to the side. “In public?”

You nodded. “Need you now, baby.”

I didn’t think you were into that!” he exclaimed, and truthfully you hadn’t either, but as he sank into you, thrusting hurriedly, the realization that anyone could walk by at any moment set your pulse racing and your orgasm crashing into you faster than ever before.

So it happened again, the next weekend, in the gym sauna. Then the weekend after that, at the movie theater, sitting on his lap in the back row. The two of you were shameless, fucking anywhere you could think of, week after week.

You’d been in the middle of a particularly delightful round tonight, him buried to the hilt inside you, up against the bargain shelves in a store basement, only to be interrupted by none other than Min Yoongi.

Honestly, it had only been a matter of time before you were caught. But did it have to be your boss who caught you?

Maybe you shouldn’t have visited the bookstore he’d personally recommended. Now you’re hiding in a stockroom while you melt down.

“I can’t go back out there and face him. Not today. Not Monday. Never again,” you moan, covering your face with your hands. “Everyone at work’s gonna find out! Oh god, and our friends’ll hear from Hoseok, because he’s the office gossip and you know he won’t be able to keep quiet!”

Jimin stands and wraps his arms around you. “Baby, take a deep breath,” he instructs, rubbing your back. “It’s gonna be fine. You really think he’s gonna say something?”

You shrug, burying your face in his shoulder.

“Okay. Then, we’ll just run away.”

“What??”

“If you’re that worried, we could run away. We’ll slip out the back door, head right for the station, jump on a train and never look back.” He grins. “We’ll leave this life behind. I don’t care where we end up, as long as we’re together.”

Jimin’s drastic idea snaps you out of your panic. “God, you’re such a sap,” you sigh, kissing his cheek. “Fine, I get it, it’s not the end of the world. But… let’s call that a backup plan if things are awkward Monday morning.”

“Deal,” Jimin walks backwards until he’s sitting on the boxes again. He pulls you onto his lap, nuzzling your neck. “Now. Where were we?”

Chapter Text

“Joon. Joonie!”

Namjoon rubs his eyes. He must’ve dozed off on the couch again. His watch says it’s only ten. An enchanting voice calls out to him again. An enchanting, slightly slurring voice.

“Jooooooonieeeeeeee!”

He follows the siren song into the kitchen, where he finds you, clearly drunk, struggling to open a ramyeon packet.

You spot him and Namjoon’s heart flips at the bright smile that spreads across your face. “There you are, roomie! Can you help me, please?”

Namjoon tears the packet easily. “You’re home early.” He goes to hand the ramyeon back to you, but thinks better of it, watching the way you sway over the stove. Instead, he gently guides you into a chair at the table, and takes over the cooking.

You’re too plastered to notice. “Bar was boring tonight. Jungkook bailed on us so it was just me and Tae and his girlfriend. Got tired of watching them suck face.”

Namjoon knows that feeling all too well.

It doesn’t take long for the noodles to cook. He carries two bowls to the table. You eat quietly - well, you don’t speak, but you slurp up your food with giddy giggles, and Namjoon busies himself with his own meal so he doesn’t inadvertently stare at your ridiculous cuteness.

After draining your bowl, you collapse on the couch. Namjoon flips on the tv and the two of you sit side-by-side in contented silence.

Then a hand creeps along his shoulder.

“Joonie,” you coo sweetly, “can I play with your hair?

He should’ve seen this coming. It’s a common request when you’re drunk. He doesn’t know what’s so alluring about his long hair, but he doesn’t really care, either. He nods, resting his head in your lap.

Your fingers slide soothingly through his blonde locks. Namjoon stifles a blissful hum - not because he’s embarrassed, but because then he couldn’t hear the tiny happy sighs emanating from you.

“Why didn’t you come out tonight?”

Namjoon contemplates how truthful to be. Chances are you won’t remember most of this conversation later. “Didn’t want to be a fifth wheel.”

Your hands still. “What d’you mean?”

Twisting, Namjoon glances up at you. “You and Jungkook, Tae and his girl. I didn’t want to be the odd one out.”

“Me and Jungkook?” Your eyebrows are in the stratosphere. “There’s no me and Jungkook, Joonie! We’re just friends.”

“But I saw you two last week, making out.” Namjoon frowns.

“Uchh, that was a dare! Just a stupid drinking game.” You giggle, resuming your combing. “I wish you’d come with me tonight. I wanted you to.”

“You did?”

“Yeah.” You smile softly down at him. “Always want you around, Joonie.” Your fingertips lightly tap his dimples, punctuating your point. Silly roomie. Doesn’t he know that by now?

The tv draws your attention away. Namjoon’s still gazing at your face, watching your eyes sparkle in the flickering neon glow. He’s certain you won’t remember anything about tonight.

So he’ll just wait a little longer. There’s always tomorrow.

Chapter Text

The gold and silver coins clink noisily against each other as you toss them into your pack. But you can hear something else above all the rattling. You pause, pressing your ear to the wall.

Sirens.

“Fuck, the police are coming! We need to go!”

Jimin’s head whips up at your words. “Goddamn it, we must’ve tripped the alarm! I thought I cut the right wire! Shit!” He redoubles his efforts, shoveling as much cash into his bag as he can.

“I can buy us a little time,” you huff, pulling the explosive out of your pack. You place it in the vault and begin to arm it as Jimin stills.

“Where… where did you get that?”

You don’t tear your eyes away from your careful work. “I went to see Namjoon.”

“Namjoon?” Jimin shouts. “You brought him into this?”

“I thought we might need some help!” Now you’re shouting. “And clearly I was right!”

The sirens are getting louder. Tossing your pack onto your shoulder, you grab the rope that hangs from the ceiling. Jimin is frozen, still kneeling. “Well? Come on, we gotta go!”

He snaps into motion, following you up into the air ducts again. You shimmy your way towards freedom, jumping down into the alley behind the bank. Jimin drops down behind you.

You start to run towards your car, but stop when you realize you’re alone. “What are you doing?” you hiss. “We need to go!”

Jimin hasn’t moved an inch. His face contorts as he looks at you. “What is the one thing I said about this job? The one thing I made you promise?”

“Fuck, baby, we gotta do this now?”

“Yes!” He’s not even trying to keep his voice down. “Tell me!”

You bite your lip. “That it would be us, just us. Only you and me.”

“You broke your promise!” He steps closer, eyes flashing. “You betrayed me. You betrayed us.”

“Look, I’m sorry, but please, baby, we need to go, I didn’t set the timer for very lo - “

“I’m not going with you.” His voice is ice.

“What - what are you saying?”

He shoulders his bag, turning away as he spits, “You take the car. I’ll find my own way out. This is over.”

Your head spins. The sirens are so close, merely blocks away now. You know the explosive is going to blow any second. Yet you drop to your knees anyway.

“Baby, please, I’m sorry, please don’t go! I love you - I can’t live without you!”

Jimin’s cold gaze cuts through you as he snarls, “If you can't live without me, then die." You sob hysterically, reaching out for him, but he strolls away into the night.

Dazed, you watch him disappear. There’s a flash and a boom and you’re knocked onto your side as the explosive detonates. You hear voices and raise your arms, not resisting as the police swarm you. There’s no reason to try to escape. You just lost the only treasure you ever wanted.

Chapter Text

“____! There you are!” Jungkook races down the aisle towards you.

“Yeah, Kookie, I’ve been here for the last hour, putting up these shelves.” You gesture from your ladder at the stuffed hearts display that you’re arranging. “What’s up?”

He brandishes a bright pink toy guitar from behind his back. “Got something for you.” He strums theatrically. “I wrote you a song.”

You wrote me a song?” You blink. “That’s so sweet, but aren’t you supposed to be helping Namjoon with inventory?”

“Boss man got distracted by a customer.” A small child rides by on a bicycle and seconds later a disheveled Namjoon follows, yelling “Not in the store! Not in the store!”

Never a dull moment working in a toy shop. Especially when you work with your adorable boyfriend, who at the moment is playing out his rock star dreams on a tiny wooden guitar.

“Wanna hear it?”

Placing another heart pillow on the shelf over Jungkook’s head, you smile. “Of course!”

He clears his throat, then begins to sing a familiar tune in his lovely tenor, strumming madly the entire time:

Oh _____, sweet and fine,
Won’t you be my Valentine?
You’re so cute, you caught my eye
Like a diamond in the sky,
Oh _____, sweet and fine,
Won’t you be my Valentine?

Jungkook slides on his knees, windmilling with the tiny guitar. Finished, he beams as you applaud, biting your cheek to keep from giggling.

“That was beautiful, Kookie! But… wasn’t that ‘Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star’?”

Jungkook stands and leans against the shelf you’ve just finished securing. “Uh, no, I don’t think so.”

“Yes, it was - you didn’t even change the ‘diamond’ line!”

“No idea what you’re talking about.” You roll your eyes as he folds his arms on the shelf, resting his head as he peers up at you. “But you didn’t answer my question. Will you be my Valentine?”

“Do you even need to - oh!!”

The top shelf suddenly gives and tilts downward, setting off a cascade of collapsing shelves. All of the stuffed hearts you’ve been stocking come tumbling down in a deluge of pink and red fluff, right on top of Jungkook, who drops dramatically to the ground.

You quickly descend from the ladder and crouch beside the pile of plush, digging Jungkook out. He’s lying on his back, eyes closed.

“Are you okay?”

His eyes pop open. “No. I’m wounded,” he whines, bottom lip puffing as he gazes pitifully at you. “Kiss me better?

This time you don’t bother to stifle your laughter. “Seriously? That was the softest avalanche ever! What could possibly hurt?”

“My heart. You didn’t answer my question yet,” he replies, propping himself up on one elbow. He grins as you shake your head in exasperation.

“Of course I’ll be your Valentine. You’re ridiculous, y’know that?” you inform him affectionately.

“Yeah, but that’s why you like me, right?”

Glancing around, you see no signs of your boss, so you lean over. “Absolutely,” you whisper, kissing your boyfriend better.

Chapter Text

Yoongi’s wedding reception is a raucous affair. As is expected, given his friends, especially your boyfriend, Hoseok.

Sitting at your table, finishing your… third? fourth?... glass of champagne, you admire the way your man commands the dance floor. But you aren’t the only one watching his every move, as you catch sight of her staring over a glass of wine.

Hoseok’s ex. Ol’ what’s-her-face. (Fifth glass?)

Sure, they’d broken up ages before you started dating. She’s no threat to you. But fuck if you ‘ll let her look at your man like that.

You storm onto the dance floor. Hoseok’s delighted expression at your appearance quickly turns to surprise when you yank him back to your table.

“Jagiya? Everything okay?”

“Hardly,” you growl. “You-know-who’s here.”

His eyes widen. “Voldemort??”

“What? No! Your ex.”

“Ah. Right… and?”

“And I didn’t like the way she was looking at you.

Hoseok blinks once, twice. A cheshire grin spreads across his face. “Jagi. Are you jealous?

“No. I’m mad. No one gets to look at you like that except me.” Glancing over his shoulder, you locate her again. Still eyeing him.

Well, then you’ll show her who he belongs to.

Hoseok’s trying to reassure you that you’ve nothing to worry about when you press him into a chair. “What are you doing?”

Instead of answering, you lean over, kissing him. He doesn’t protest until you break away to check if she’s observing the two of you.

She is.

You drop to your knees, crawling under the table.

“Jagiya??” Hoseok’s hiss reaches a Defcon 4 level of panic. “Are you about to… ?”

“Wanna play. Can I?” You pause on his zipper.

Hoseok’s thighs twitch. “O-of course you can, but you know we’re in puuhhhhhh my god!”

Such a pretty cock, not too veiny, just thick enough that you can suck him off without popping your jaw. Which is exactly what you do as Hoseok slams his hands down on the table above you, scrambling for something to hold onto while you messily slurp and swirl around him.

Has she ever touched you like this?” you demand, hands stroking.

“No, never,” Hoseok groans. Lifting his hips, he thrusts into your mouth. His needy gasps get faster and faster until one of his hands slips beneath the tablecloth to grab at you. “Fuck, jagi, I’m gonna - gonna - “

The loud music swallows his whine. You carefully lick him clean, hoping that nothing has prevented her from watching the show. Even if you were hidden, you were sure she’d recognize Hoseok’s o-face.

“Goddamn it, I love you. Marry me.”

You freeze.

Poking your head out from under the cloth, you peer at your boyfriend. “That’s your orgasm talking.”

He laughs, cupping your chin. “Not the orgasm. This isn’t adrenaline, I want to spend my life with you.” He produces a little red box from his jacket pocket.

All thoughts of her vanish as you grin and disappear back beneath the table.

“Now what are you doing?” Hoseok yelps.

“Celebrating.”

Chapter Text

“Jagiya?” Namjoon says, softly breaking the heavy silence in the room. “Please tell me this is some sort of terrible joke that I’m not getting.”

It was only a matter of time.

The second Namjoon’s lips touched yours the night you met, a timer began counting down to this moment. All your relationships come with a ticking clock.

You always assumed he’d find someone better someday. Just like the rest. The only surprising thing is that it took so long. Namjoon has mentioned a few times how amazing his lab partner is. When you saw them today, in the cafeteria, her head tossed back in laughter as Namjoon smiled at her, you knew.

Time’s up.

“I only want you to be happy,” you begin. Your hands tremble, so you busy them, twisting the hem of your shirt. “I… I saw you with Yuna. At lunch. I don’t want to stand in your way. I told myself I’d take our relationship back in a heartbeat if it meant you’d be happier.”

“Yuna?” Namjoon’s brow furrows. “I don’t understand. You think I like Yuna?”

You nod. His hands gently land on yours, stopping your nervous fidgeting, as he slides closer on the couch.

“Jagi. Yuna’s just my friend.”

“It’s okay, Namjoon. You don’t have to pretend just to spare my feelings. She’s prettier and funnier than I am. Probably less klutzy, too. She - “

“Stop.” he interrupts. “Please. None of that’s true. And I don’t want her. She’s not you.” He lifts your hands to his chest, tucking them beneath his. His heart beats steady under your fingertips. “You’re the one I love.”

It hurts so much to push him away, but you know it will - wait.

Love?

“You… love me?”

He squeezes your hands. “Yeah. So much. I wanted to tell you sooner, but… I was afraid. I’ve never said that before.” A shy smile crosses his face, dimples appearing. “I’ve never felt it before.”

You study his face, searching for any reason not to believe him. All you find is hope.

And love.

No one’s ever looked at you like that. It tugs at something inside you, and you shatter.

“I’m - I’m sorry,” you choke out as he draws you into his arms. There’s too much to explain and it comes out broken, tears staining his shirt as you struggle to speak. “I’ve never… in the past… easier to push you away than let you - let you….”

Namjoon holds you tight, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into your back. “Shhh, don’t apologize, jagi. It’s okay. I think I understand. But you don’t have to be afraid.” He tips your head up to meet his eyes. The warmth shimmering there makes you want to cry again. “Your heart is safe with me.”

“Thank you,” you whisper into his shoulder, burying your face, overwhelmed. Someday, you’ll tell him everything. About the heartache in your past. All your fears and anxieties. Right now, there’s only one thing you want to say. Just three little words.

Chapter Text

Thunder rumbles as your boyfriend unlocks his apartment door. You enter behind him, dripping muddy water all over his kitchen tiles. “Ah, sorry!”

“Don’t worry about it,” he calls over his shoulder as he wanders down the hall to his bedroom. “Let me grab you something clean.”

The two of you had been enjoying an invigorating Saturday morning run when a freak thunderstorm suddenly cut things short. Your mad scramble to return to his place before you got struck by lightning took a bad turn when you tripped and slid down a small hill, landing in a nasty mud puddle at the bottom.

Namjoon hands you some clothing before he wraps you up in a big fluffy towel, hugging you, pretending to squeeze all the water out while you giggle. You change in the kitchen, not wanting to track filth everywhere. When he returns from throwing your dirty clothes in the washer, he chuckles softly.

“You look better in my clothes than I do.”

You glance down at yourself. His t-shirt and shorts aren’t quite your style. They fit well enough, but they look much better on his large, muscular frame.

You snort. “Hardly. But… maybe I should keep some spare clothes here? For the future?” you add hesitantly. Although you’ve known each other for years, you’ve only been dating for three months and haven’t had any serious discussions about your relationship yet. Don’t want to jump the gun. “Just in case.”

He rifles through the fridge, handing you a coffee milk. “Or maybe you should just move in.”

“What?” And here you were afraid of getting ahead of yourself.

“I’m just saying. You could keep some clothes here, or you could keep all your stuff here.” He grins. “You practically live with me anyway. When’s the last time you slept in your own bed?”

“Uh…” He’s being a little hyperbolic - you don’t stay over every night. True, it has been a few days. And shuffling back and forth to your apartment to grab things is annoying. But still. Blinking rapidly, you shake your head. “Okay, you’re still on your runner’s high. Euphoria makes people say funny things.”

Namjoon laughs, looping his strong arms around your waist. “It’s not a runner’s high! This isn’t adrenaline, I want to spend my life with you. Why wait?” His nose nuzzles yours. “I love you. Move in with me.”

This isn’t how you’d imagined your Saturday would go. This is far beyond any of your expectations - or your dreams, honestly. You feel electrified.

Cupping his squishy cheeks in your hands, you practically shout, “I love you too!”

He dips his mouth against yours, and you can’t contain the joyful giggles that bubble up. Neither can he. Your laughter mixes together in a jubilant harmony. “So you’re moving in?”

“I’m moving in,” you confirm, brushing a lock of his platinum hair from his face. He kisses you again, and the storm booming outside is a dull roar compared to the thundering of your heart.

Chapter Text

Yoongi props his feet on his enormous desk, staring at his underlings over his sunglasses. “You lost the evidence.”

“Technically, sir, we didn’t lose it,” Taehyung replies. “Kookie ate it.”

Yoongi glances at the youngest member of the police force. His worried doe eyes are fixed on the floor. Yoongi bites back a sigh. “Kook, is this true?”

“I’m sorry! Sir. I didn’t realize the dumplings were part of the crime scene! I just - I just thought Taehyung had brought his lunch with him again.”

“Hey, that was one time, and - ”

With a simple raise of his hand, Yoongi silences the pair. “Well, it would appear that you weren’t poisoned like the perp, considering you’re here and not lying next to him in the morgue. But Kook, do me a favor - next time you’re on a crime scene, try not to eat anything, okay?”

“Yes, sir,” Jungkook chirps, relief evident in his big orbs.

“Good. But with the food gone, you’re back to square one on figuring out who killed the most powerful drug dealer in the city.” Yoongi pauses. “So why are you still sitting here?”

The two men leap to their feet. “Yes, sir, sorry, thank you!” Taehyung barks as they hastily leave his office, closing the door behind them.

Yoongi unbuttons his blazer, running a hand through his long raven-black hair. His beeper buzzes, and he glances at the number. Jimin again. Probably wants to place a wager on the Dolphins game this Sunday. He’ll call him later. He hates conducting bookie business on company time. It gets messy.

Picking up the letter lying on his desk, he rereads the number again. So many zeroes. Why did private school have to cost so much? Not that it really matters. He’ll go to any lengths to give his daughter the world. She’s his everything. Being a single dad is so hard sometimes.

But things should be easier now with his biggest competition out of the way. Thank fuck Yoongi only added the toxin to one dumpling. He’d hate to lose Kook. He and Taehyung sometimes make things hard for Yoongi, but they’re sweet kids.

And he’ll continue to help them as long as they never find out what Yoongi’s been doing in his spare time. His hand slips under his jacket, fingers unconsciously rubbing the grip of his gun as it rests in his holster. There isn’t anything he wouldn’t do for his daughter.

No matter who gets in his way.

Chapter Text

Of your many skills, one in particular made you a top undercover agent for the Bureau.

It’s not your sharpness, your intuition, or the fact that you’re a hell of a shot. No, your greatest strength lies in how you connect to your targets, getting close enough to learn all their dirty little secrets in order to take them down.

In all your years on the force, you’ve never gotten this close to anyone before.

Yoongi groans as he slides into your enveloping heat. You urge him closer, deeper.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you feel so good.” The pet name falls sweetly from his lips as his hips snap into yours.

For such a reserved man, it was all too easy for you to infiltrate his world. Posing as his daughter’s teacher gained you his trust. A few conversations at morning drop-off, a sympathetic hand on the arm when he discussed being a single father at a parent-teacher conference, a coffee and a dinner and now here you are, in his home, writhing against his silk sheets while he thrusts into you.

Sleeping with a target is a line you’ve never crossed. It’s risky. One wrong step could cost you everything. But you've run the calculations. You can handle this. You just need to stay focused.

Just remember. You can’t be compromised. You’re steel. Difficult to bend, even harder to break.

Yoongi captures your mouth with his. The kiss catches you by surprise, so tender, a marked contrast to the way he fucks you so roughly. Your hands release their grip on his sheets to card through his dark hair, trying to hold him close. As he pulls away, pounding you into the bed, he smirks.

“Cat got your tongue, sweetheart? So quiet. Gonna make me fuck the sounds out of you?” He lifts one of your legs, kissing your ankle. “I promise I can.”

In response to the slight change in angle, you moan, and he winks. “Told you.”

Your fingernails dig into his arm, guiding it until his hand curls around your neck. “Well, better keep going.”

Midnight. Yoongi snores lightly as you slip from bed. A lock of hair falls in his handsome face, and without thinking you reach out, tucking it behind his ear. Grey threads have begun to wind themselves through his silky strands. He’s still young enough that the splash of silver is shocking. Just a sign of how much he’s running himself into an early grave with his double life. All for his daughter.

Deep breath. Remember. Steel.

Yoongi’s years as a detective means he knows how to cover his tracks. But just like the other criminals you’ve chased, he’s cocky. Too convinced of his invulnerability. Which means that when you find the safe under the floorboards in his study and crack it open using his daughter’s birthdate, you’re completely unsurprised.

Until an arm wraps around your waist and a deep voice growls in your ear, “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Chapter Text

“Please! You don’t have to do this.” 

Yoongi finishes binding your wrists to the back of the wooden chair, ignoring your pleas. Stupid. How could he be so fucking stupid?

He whips out his mobile phone from his silk pajama pants pocket and presses a button. A click and a voice. 

“Jimin. I’m going to need a cleanup. Yeah. At home.” 

He snaps the phone shut and sets it on his workbench. Thank god his daughter is sleeping over at a friend’s house tonight, so he can take care of this mess quickly. 

You try again. “Let’s just talk this out. No one needs to get hurt, okay?”

Ha. Too fucking late. 

Yoongi should’ve listened to his head when he met you. It told him you were too good to be true. But no, he’d listened to his dick. And then to his–

“Please. Yoongi.” Your voice is remarkably steady. Probably your training kicking in. The Bureau did a bang-up job with you, Yoongi thinks sullenly. “Listen to me. You can cut a deal. I want to help you. Trust me.” 

You screech as Yoongi suddenly spins in the cramped garage, tossing all the tools cluttering his workbench to the ground with one sweep of his arm. The metal instruments clang on the cement floor as you stare wide-eyed in fear. He sneers as he stalks towards you, bare chest heaving. 

“Trust you?! Are you fucking kidding me?!” He drops to his knees and grabs your ankles, yanking on the rope to tie them tighter to the chair. His face hovers above yours. A scorching fury radiates from him in waves, burning the words forming on your lips to ash. “I did trust you! And look what happened!”

Why had he kept that safe in the house? When he’d awoken to an empty bed, a horrible sinking feeling had stolen over him. He thought for a moment that it had happened again, that he’d been left behind once more. The sight of you in his study brought relief, but it was fleeting. 

As most good things in his life are.

“It was only a matter of time!” you shout, calm replaced by anger, leaning forward, nose bumping against his, making him recoil. “Someone was going to catch you eventually! Why not me? Why not someone who cares about you and Da-”

“Don’t,” he growls, nearly spitting in his rage. “Don’t you fucking say her name.” Everything he did was for his daughter. You could never understand. You didn’t deserve to understand. And you didn’t deserve to even speak her name anymore.

"If you kill me, that won't kill the investigation." Your voice is composed again, but your lip quivers as you speak.

Yoongi smirks, a cold smile that comes nowhere near reaching his eyes. "You just don't get it," he growls. " I run this fucking town. I'm the one with the money. I'm the one with the power. I just need to make you disappear. Then I'll pay a few people in the right places to make this investigation disappear, too."

He didn’t get to where he is without learning which palms to grease. Now that his biggest competition is out of the way, the money’s streaming in so steadily that he should have no problem getting out of this. If he can just do what he needs to do next. 

But he can’t stop thinking about earlier tonight. The expression on your face as he came apart inside you. The way you’d fallen asleep in his arms, sighing his name contentedly. Had any of it been real? Fuck, he’d been such an epic fool, to believe that he could be the king, and provide for Da-som, and maybe, maybe even find l-

He can’t let himself finish the thought, snarling as he reaches out and lays his long fingers around your throat like a heavy collar, thumbs slipping easily into the notch of your collarbones. Only mere hours ago you’d begged him to choke you as he fucked you towards oblivion. You’re trembling now, as you did then, but Yoongi knows it’s a different kind of anticipation. 

“Wait. Please.” He feels your breath catch under his fingertips. “ Please .” 

“I can’t let them take her away from me,” he explains, heated glare meeting your frantic gaze, and you nod. 

“I know. But please… Yoongi… I can help you. It doesn’t have to end like this.” 

But it does. Because he knows that if he goes along with you, and turns himself in and strikes a deal, he’ll still lose Da-som. Even if they can stay together, once he confesses, she’ll know exactly who he is. What he is. And she’ll never look at him the same way again. 

He can’t lose her love. If he loses that, he’ll truly have nothing.

“No, I’m afraid it does.” His hand rises of its own accord, seeking the soft skin of your cheek. Craving one last gentle touch before…. “This could’ve been something, you know.” 

“I know,” you repeat softly, a sad echo, and before he loses his nerve, Yoongi kisses you. He tastes salt on your lips, feels a shudder pass through you, and he breaks away, lowering his head. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers.

“So am I,” you reply, and he can’t stop himself from peering at you again, heart jolting at the regret he finds reflecting in your eyes. “For this.” 

CRACK

“You bitch!” Yoongi’s hands fly to his nose. Blood streams from his nostrils, veins cut by broken bone thanks to your headbutt. The pain is blinding, but his wrath moreso. With a mad howl, he lunges for you, but you merely crack him again, forehead to forehead. This time, he goes down. 

Inhaling desperately, you watch his prone body for a moment before you start to rock, working up some momentum before throwing yourself onto your back. The chair doesn’t smash completely as you’d hoped, but the back does break off enough for you to slip the rope under the rungs. Contorting your body, you manage to slide your constrained arms under your ass and then bend forward until your chest is pressed against your thighs. As soon as you can feel the rope around your ankles with your fingertips, you work the knot loose enough to slip your feet free.

Kicking the remnants of the chair away, you crawl towards Yoongi’s phone. Bound hands fumble through his contacts until you find the name you need. A click and a voice.

“Sir?” The voice is confused. “Is everything okay?”

“It’s not Yoongi. It’s me.” 

Yoongi moans, stirring slightly, and you hold your breath until he stills again. 

“We need to move.” 

Chapter Text

The Bureau taught you many valuable lessons during your time at the academy. But there was one simple instruction that stood out above the rest: keep calm. An agitated agent is a dead agent. No matter what, always keep calm.

Try telling that now to your heart. 

With a little exertion, you manage to free your hands from Yoongi’s rope. It takes considerably more effort to turn away from where he’s sprawled on the cold cement. Long lashes flutter against pale cheeks as he slumbers, knocked into unconsciousness by your hard head. His flawless skin is marred by splatters of dried blood, like stained porcelain. But you know he’s not as delicate as his beauty would have you believe, so you force yourself to get up, dashing back into his house. You hurriedly dress and grab the box from the safe, stuffing it into the tote bag you sling in your cover as a teacher. On your way back to the garage, you spot Yoongi’s holster, and swiftly pluck a pair of handcuffs from it. 

As you’re crossing the kitchen, there’s a rap on the back door. 

You peek out the window over the sink. A shiny black and white police cruiser is parked in the driveway. 

Yoongi drives an unmarked car. 

Shit.

Slipping your handgun out of your bag, you hold it behind your back as you peer through the peephole, thankful that Yoongi’s paranoid enough to have installed one in his back door. A worried pair of doe eyes greet you. Jungkook is standing on the other side of the door in his uniform, hand resting on his gun where it sits on his hip. 

“Oh thank fuck,” you sigh as you usher him in. “I thought you were off tonight?”

“I swapped shifts with Taehyung. He had some hot date or something,” your partner replies, walking in with his gun drawn and sweeping the room, making sure you’re safe. Any other night, you’d mock him for being overprotective, but the way your heart still rattles in your chest keeps your lips sealed. “You okay?” 

You just nod, not wanting to talk about what happened. Not wanting to remember. “Come on, he’s in here.” 

Thankfully, Yoongi hasn’t moved from where you left him. Quickly, the two of you roll him onto his stomach and snap the cuffs onto his wrists, binding his hands behind his back. He groans as you turn him, but otherwise doesn’t stir. 

“So now what?” Jungkook asks, hands on his knees as he kneels across from you. 

“Now we bring him in. Did you get the lab results back yet?”

Jungkook licks at the corner of his mouth. A bad sign. You’ve been his partner long enough to know all his tells, as much as he’d petulantly insist that he has none. “Yeah, so… all that work to convince Taehyung that I ate the dumplings, instead of smuggling them out of the crime scene, and it turns out that Yoongi only laced the eaten one with the poison because none of the others had any traces. Not a single drop to be found.”

“Goddamn it.” All that effort, for nothing. You’d been hoping for a smoking gun in the form of a poisonous dumpling, but of course it couldn’t be that simple. Still, it had been better for your lab to run the tests, rather than rely on the lab in Yoongi’s precinct. God only knows how many people there are in his pocket. Anyone there could fake the test results for the right price. And Yoongi’s got money to burn. 

Your partner hums in agreement, running his hand through his raven hair. His baby face made it so easy for him to infiltrate the police department, effortlessly selling the lie of a young cadet fresh out of training. But the scar running through his right eyebrow tells a different story. It heralds him as a warrior who has fought many battles, faced death countless times, and won. The scar reminds him who he is when he’s in uniform, staring at his handsome face in the rearview mirror of his police car.

But Jungkook knows that if he’s a warrior, he’s Achilles. He can only pray that no one ever figures out his heel.

As though you can read his thoughts, you catch his eye and smile, but it’s weak, a half-hearted attempt at reassurance that misses the mark, and it only makes his chest ache. 

Jungkook gazes at the kingpin lying on his stomach on the garage floor. He’s seen firsthand how intimidating the man can be. He doesn’t seem so threatening now. “Even without the dumplings, don’t we have enough to put him away?” 

“I hope so. I mean, I know Namjoon’s been working on obtaining the financial records I requested, which hasn’t been easy since Yoongi apparently discovered how to use shell companies in the last year since his empire expanded.” You glance at the still sleeping man, missing the way Jungkook watches your face. If you know all his tells, he surely knows yours , and right now the way you chew your bottom lip makes his stomach twist. “And I’m sure we–”

You both straighten up as you hear it. A door closing in the house. The back door?

Jungkook’s hand is already on his hip. “Da-som?”

You shake your head. Yoongi’s daughter isn’t home. 

Jungkook’s gun is in his hand. Yours is as well as you follow him back into the house, one careful step at a time. There’s no one in the kitchen. 

You motion to your partner, pointing to yourself, then at the ceiling. He nods, understanding your plan to split up and check the floors of the house separately. 

“What the fuck?”

The two of you spin, following the sound of the exclamation to the blond man standing in the doorway to the living room. He wears a white button-down with the sleeves rolled up, snake tattoos winding down his forearms to his hands which are gripping a giant duffel bag. There’s a loaded holster tucked under both his arms. 

“Whoa, whoa, don’t shoot!” the man yelps, dropping the bag as he raises his hands above his head.

“Who the fuck are you?” Jungkook shouts back, but you don’t need him to answer. 

“Drop your weapons, Park!” you order him. Goddamn it, you’d completely forgotten that Yoongi had called for a cleanup earlier.

Jimin merely smirks, arms still in the air. “Fuck, I knew that call was for you! I told Yoongi he was making a mistake, dating you. He should’ve gotten rid of you after the first fuck.” His dark eyes skim your figure so slowly, so blatantly that your skin crawls. “Guess the pussy was just too good.”

“Shut your fucking mouth and drop your weapons!” Jungkook growls, taking a step towards the blond. Despite the anger that radiates from your partner, Jimin doesn’t flinch. 

“Relax! I’m just going to reach… for… my… guns,” Jimin speaks in a low, soothing tone, dragging out his sentence as he gingerly lowers his hands. You and Jungkook follow his movements closely with the barrels of your guns.

In the blink of an eye, Jimin draws his weapons and starts firing. 

You dive behind the kitchen island as Jungkook lands beside you. “Shit!” 

“Fuck!” he concurs, head slamming back against the wooden cabinets as bullets continue to whizz by above you. Jimin cackles wildly, shooting holes in Yoongi’s tastefully decorated kitchen. Jungkook leans around the corner, firing off a few rounds. 

“This guy’s a fucking maniac!” your partner yells over the barrage of bullets coming from the blond. 

You shimmy around the side far enough to aim a few shots at Jimin, who promptly hurdles over Yoongi’s couch, seeking cover. Silence. He’s reloading.  

Because the two of you are deep undercover, there’s no one else nearby for you to call for backup. Even if you sound the alarm now, it’ll take too long for the nearest team to reach you. So it’s up to the two of you to end this. 

A frustrated wail sounds from the garage. Yoongi’s awake. Your seditious heart stirs again at the anguish strangling his voice. “Jimin! Get me the fuck out of here!” 

The blond leaps to his feet and bolts for the garage door, sending another deluge of bullets your way. You and your partner huddle against the island until the shooting stops. A quick glance at the door finds it ajar. 

“We gotta go,” Jungkook is already on his feet, tugging you to yours. Any second now, Jimin will have Yoongi out of those handcuffs, and then he’ll find you, and then he’ll - he’ll -

“Hey!” Jungkook is gripping your face. “Come on, we have to go! Now!” 

The two of you scramble out into the driveway. Footsteps pound behind you. Jungkook throws his arm around you, shielding you as best he can as you reach the car. 

A shot rings out. Jungkook’s eyes go wide as he falls to his knees.

You scream.