#Yoonmin fic

[sailoryooons]

Shadow | myg x pjm (m)

❀ Pairing: Faerie!Guard Yoongi x Faerie!Prince Jimin

❀ Summary: Yoongi’s life has been sworn to Jimin’s since the moment he was born. He was bred, crafted and trained to be Jimin’s shadow, his greatest protector. Jimin loves just how much Yoongi can never refuse him.  

❀ Word Count: 6,539

❀ Genre: Dark fantasy

❀ Rating: 18+ anyone discovered to be interacting with this content under 18 will be immediately blocked from this blog.

❀ Warnings: Explicit language, toxic relationship, allusions to abuse, references to Jimin hurting Yoongi multiple times in the past, references to Yoongi only existing for Jimin, references to Jimin’s masochism, power dynamics, predator/prey, chasing, sadism/masochism relationship, rough sex in the literal dirt, Yoongi being referred to/treated like an object, blood play, biting/licking, spit play, humiliation, pain play, orgasm control, unprotected anal sex, fingering, dom/sub dynamics, bottom Yoongi/top Jimin, Jimin threatens various types of bodily harm to Yoongi, Yoongi Has Zero Self Preservation sometimes, there is reference to Jimin cutting a chunk out of Yoongi previously Ed Gein style, allusions to subspace and subdrop if you really really squint, zero aftercare. This content is marked as Dead Dove.

❀ Published: August 20, 2023 (originally)

❀ A/N: This is a repost from Hali After Dark that was done as a filled request and is a part of merging the few selected items I had there, over here. I will not make a habit of moving any other mem x mem works over to this blog, but because this was a requested item from a mutual, I didn't want it to vanish when I deleted HAD. I DO NOT DO TAG LISTS FOR DD CONTENT.

❀ A/N 2: If mem x mem isn't your thing - literally just don't read it. It is that easy. This is not me being a shipper - it is fiction and I do not believe in shipping people in a real-life setting. Thanks.

❀ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

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Yoongi doesn’t want to be here. The breeze has an icy bite to it, filling the boughs of the trees with wind as it sweeps through the forest. He pulls his cloak tighter, dragging his gaze around the shadowed wood. This late in the evening, everything is cast in an eerie black-green light. There’s no sign of anything worth hunting, which Yoongi told Jimin several times. 

There’s no telling Jimin no. The prince is as stubborn as he is vindictive, a lethal combination for Yoongi who has grown up at his side. The more Yoongi says no, the more Jimin says yes. The more Yoongi tries to use reverse psychology, the worse Jimin makes it. 

Jimin is a prince with gluttonous tastes. He likes to take but never give, to force but never ask. As a child, Yoongi often wondered what had to have been wrong with Jimin to make him this way. As an adult, Yoongi knows that Jimin is far more complex and haunted than the prince would ever reveal.

Still, nights like tonight remind Yoongi that he is often the subject of Jimin’s attention. Being sworn to him has always meant that Yoongi’s life was Jimin’s to own and command. He just didn’t expect the prince to enjoy it so much. 

“You’re mad at me,” Jimin sighs, looking over at Yoongi. “Why are you mad at me, Shadow?”

Yoongi grinds his teeth. Jimin is the only person who manages to get under Yoongi’s skin. As Jimin’s personal guard, it’s his duty to protect the prince at every moment, against every enemy, and at any cost, including his life. What he had not anticipated was most of the threats made to his well-being came from Jimin himself. 

He looks Jimin up and down. He’s in all black this evening, his clothes tight-fitted for hunting. There’s a spiked, silver necklace around Jimin’s neck, the only sign that he’s of renown in the Court of Thorns. His dark hair is damp from riding through heavy mists when leaving the castle, hanging limp in his beautiful face.

Jimin has always been the most beautiful faerie Yoongi has ever seen. He has high cheekbones and an angular jaw, his siren eyes dark and gaze heady. With lips like pillows and rounded cheeks, Jimin shifts between looking sweet and lethal on command, wielding his unearthly face to his advantage. 

Countless fae have fallen to that face. There’s no one who can say no to Jimin, especially when he purrs in their ear in his velvet soft voice, the smell of his honey and mint irresistible. Even Yoongi has a hard time saying no at that point, which delights Jimin more than anything else. 

“I’m not mad,” Yoongi finally says. He chooses each word carefully, each conversation with Jimin a well-choreographed dance. “We’ve been out here a long time and I did not rest well last night.”

“Hmm, I should report back to Namjoon to let him know the palace’s most prized guard is tired.” Yoongi’s face remains impassive. Jimin isn’t going to report Yoongi to the head soldier and he knows that Jimin knows Yoongi isn’t tired. “Perhaps they’ll whip you for your inability to perform your best.” 

“As they should.”

“Would you like that, Shadow?” Yoongi’s hands squeeze the reins of his horse at the nickname. Jimin has called him that since they were boys in school together, rubbing it in Yoongi’s face that his sole purpose in life was to be Jimin’s shadow and protector, nothing more. “Want to be whipped in front of your peers?” 

“If it’s what I deserve.”

Jimin stops his horse. Yoongi sighs and pulls on the reins, stopping so that he’s in front of Jimin and facing him. The prince’s bottom lip juts out and he bats his lashes as he crosses his arms. Yoongi’s eye twitches in annoyance. Jimin does look cute when he makes that face, but Yoongi knows better. 

“You’re being annoying.” 

Yoongi bows his head. “I apologize, my prince.” 

A scowl contorts Jimin’s face. In a flash he’s gone from pleading prince to twisted faerie, his eyes darkening and jaw ticking as he regards Yoongi. Jimin remains silent and Yoongi can almost see the wheels turning in Jimin’s mind. This is when Jimin is most dangerous. Yoongi knows he’s coming up with his next move, wavering between violence and jesting. 

For his entire life, Jimin has been unpredictable. He has killed in the middle of telling a joke, he has kissed Yoongi square on the mouth in the middle of punishing him, and he has laughed in the middle of crying. He is made up of conflicting emotions, two sides trying to gain the upper hand. It’s often a tossup of which side will win, but after a hundred years together, Yoongi can usually predict which Jimin he is going to get.

Today, Jimin has driven Yoongi out into the cold evening, demanding a hunt. He wasn’t playful about it, commanding the guard with the steel that the prince so rarely uses. The ride from the castle, through the briars, and into the wood was silent, Jimin’s mood dark and hard to read. 

Yoongi thinks about the day before, when Jimin returned from a meeting with the king and queen, a laceration still healing near his eye. Today, it’s pink and nearly gone, a shallow wound for what is sure to be a shallow reason. The queen's desire for pain is not like Jimin’s. There are no rules to her indulgence in pain and violence, no laws by which she operates. 

Now, as Yoongi watches Jimin, he sees a twitch in the prince's mouth. Yoongi’s stomach flips, knowing that his neutrality to Jimin’s mood has pushed the prince from sour to angry, and angry to sadistic. 

“You didn’t want to come hunting today, Yoongi?” Yoongi grimaces. The use of his formal name sets off alarms. Yoongi licks his lips, trying to think on his feet, trying to work out the right answer. He doesn’t know where Jimin is going with this, but he can see the cunning in the prince’s face. “Speak, guard.” 

“There is nothing to hunt, my prince. Anything worth hunting is in hibernation.”

“Get off your horse.”

Yoongi pauses. “What?”

“Get off your horse.” 

Heavy with trepidation, Yoongi slowly dismounts. The leather of the saddle squeaks under the shifting of his weight and his horse chews on the metal bit, the sound of grinding loud in Yoongi’s ears. He lets go of the mare and then steps away from it, looking up at Jimin. 

“There.” Jimin points at Yoongi with a slash of a grin. Yoongi doesn’t understand, furrowing his brows and shrugging as if to ask what Jimin means. The prince’s grin spreads and the hairs on Yoongi’s arm rise, a tingle spreading down them. “Something worth hunting.”

Fuck. Yoongi realizes his mistake, clenching and unclenching his fists as Jimin drops the hand pointing at him, pulling the heavy crossbow from the saddle. Jimin sets the weapon across his lap and pats the top of it happily, looking up at Yoongi with his brows raised.

“Well,” Jimin urges. “I’ll give you ten minutes. Go on.” 

Swearing under his breath, Yoongi pulls his cloak off and tosses it on the horse. Jimin laughs as Yoongi tucks his silver necklaces into the collar of his shirt to dampen the noise as he throws Jimin a scathing look before taking off. Jimin gives a shout of glee as he watches Yoongi tear off to the west, moving toward the castle at a diagonal angle. 

Yoongi’s mind jumps into action as he runs. He’s fast. It’s colder now as evening turns into night. The air he breathes in is winter-sharp and the mist has made the ground damp and slippery beneath his feet. Yoongi can easily run over a mile in ten minutes. They’re at least seven miles from the briar wall, which Yoongi would reach faster if he ran straight back the way they came. 

Jimin will surely catch him if he goes straight back, though. Yoongi’s goal is to put as much distance between him and Jimin as possible. Jimin, of course, has horses. Distance doesn’t mean much when Yoongi is at such a disadvantage, but the west of the woods is filled with gullies and dells, much harder to navigate on horseback. 

As he runs, Yoongi is careful not to leave tracks. He is light-footed, even for a faerie. Most of his life was spent learning weapons skills, behavioral analysis, and court politics. He’s not much for espionage or assassin business, but Yoongi was trained by Hoseok for enough years to develop skills in the art of not being found, and for being hard to trace. 

Every one of those skills comes back to him now. He’s careful not to let the fabric of his clothes snag on trees. When he approaches dips in the land, he pauses to walk down them instead of sliding. He knows this eats away at his time to escape, but the evidence of his direction is worse than precious seconds lost to carefully picking his way downward. 

There is also the possibility it’s all for nothing. Jimin is one of the finest hunters in the court. His lack of interest in scanning their surroundings as they rode and not following hunting trails should have been the first sign that Jimin was off today. Yoongi had been so focused on trying to ignore Jimin’s prickly mood that he hadn’t gleaned Jimin’s purpose. 

Ten minutes pass. Yoongi is well into his run, lungs full of cold air, mind focused only on getting to the briar wall. Jimin, of course, has not said when this chase ends. There is no guarantee that Yoongi will be safe once he reaches the briars, but Jimin’s games always have rules. 

The most important rule is that he doesn’t do this to Yoongi in public. Above all else, the prince is smart. It does him a disservice to embarrass his personal guard in front of anyone, lest they think Yoongi is weak and by association, Jimin. 

Power is what makes the world go round in the Court of Thorns. Everyone Jimin comes in contact with is a reflection of the prince, who should be like a thorn: beautiful, but deadly. Yoongi must be fatal and strong. It serves Jimin no purpose to subject Yoongi to his madness where eyes can see, so the prince keeps these deviances in the shadows.

It’s this most important rule that Yoongi clings to as he runs for the briars, which are visible from the castle towers. By now, Jimin has begun his chase. Yoongi feels Jimin’s aura like iron pressing down on his senses, burning and eating away at his magic the more he thinks about the prince.

Minutes tick by. Yoongi is not yet tired, driven by adrenaline and a little bit of a thrill. Hot energy courses through him. He wonders if he can outrun Jimin and get out of the woods before the prince finds him. He smiles thinking about Jimin’s face if he beats him. 

What bothers Jimin most in the world is losing to Yoongi. In the rare instances that Yoongi outsmarts Jimin or slips from his snare, the prince is venomous for days. It’s worse when Jimin fails to get a rise from the guard, no matter how much the prince goads him. Yoongi’s apathy has earned him more pain and rage-laced pleasure from Jimin than anything else he does. 

“Run faster, Shadow!” Jimin’s shrill voice echoes in the wind. 

Yoongi pulls up short, turning to look over his shoulder. He has perfect vision, even at night, but Jimin is nowhere to be found. He slows his breathing and closes his eyes, focusing on the sounds of the forest. He can make out normal sounds of crickets chirping and rabbits scampering back to their nests, but there’s no sound of hoofbeats. 

A metallic click followed by whistling catches his ears. Yoongi inhales sharply and manages to step back just in time as a bolt fired from the dark of the forest whistles by him and hits the tree behind him. The arrow doesn’t go in far, which means Jimin took the shot from a distance. It also means Jimin is on his feet, and difficult terrain means nothing now. 

Cursing, Yoongi takes off again. Jimin’s laughter seems to echo around him, chilling him to the bone. He loses his grip on fear as he moves north instead of northwest at an angle. He no longer cares about tripping Jimin up. Yoongi needs the path of least resistance, jumping over fallen trees as a frantic energy thrums through him.

He doesn’t know what the rules of this game are. He doesn’t know what limitations are on the table, if Jimin is willing to maim him or kill him. Yoongi never knows, and it makes it all the more terrifying when he can’t come up with a sure answer. All he knows is that Jimin hasn’t killed him yet.

Yet. 

As if sensing his thoughts, he hears Jimin fire the crossbow again. Yoongi ducks as the arrow shoots wide and over his head, vanishing in the misty night. He swallows, sensing that the arrow had been aimed to kill. Anger flares through him and he tamps it down. No matter how angry he gets, Yoongi doesn’t fight back. Not earnestly anyway. And at least he knows a new rule: killing and maiming are possible. 

Yoongi’s life shouldn’t be this. The thought slips in between his focus on running and sliding under fallen trees. He’s one of the best fighters in the Court of Thorns and he is unnaturally intelligent. He should have a higher position at court than being the shield to a bloodthirsty brat, but Yoongi has bent and broken to the whims of Jimin for years now.

What’s another hunt through the woods in the face of hundreds of other games? 

Part of him loves it. If Yoongi wanted to turn around and let Jimin pick him off, he could. He flirts with the idea of pausing his run. Of stopping in his tracks and waiting to see if it’ll happen, if Jimin will put the arrow through an eye socket. 

Yet he keeps running because he knows that Jimin will keep chasing. Jimin has always chased Yoongi, a cat who can’t leave and let its dinner die yet. Jimin gives Yoongi special attention, and it makes Yoongi preen. No one else gets this. No one else is the sole object of Jimin’s ruthless attention. 

When they were younger, the queen thought that it was unseemly for the prince to be so obsessed with his guard. Jimin couldn’t leave Yoongi alone, pinching him on the soft of his thighs, cornering him and demanding to teach Jimin how to kiss, ordering Yoongi to stand outside of Jimin’s chambers while he fucked other courtiers, learning the arts of the bedroom, murdering anyone who so much as brushed an arm against Yoongi. 

It keeps Yoongi guessing. He never knows what the day will bring, the Jimin who covets him or the Jimin who tortures him. Sometimes, it’s a mix of both, which is Yoongi’s personal preference.

An arrow whistles. Yoongi steps to the side, but just barely. He feels the sting of the arrowhead grace his cheek, opening up a shallow cut. It doesn’t hurt much, but it does startle him. His foot catches a root and Yoongi shouts as he trips, sliding downhill into a dell as he goes.

Leaves and damp earth make his descent fast. As soon as he falls, he’s at the bottom, buried in leaves and surrounded by the scene of earth and pine. The ground is cold, leaching him of his warmth as he gets up to his knees. He could use magic to warm himself, but it makes him easier to find, his energy light a beacon to the magic-sensitive prince hunting him.

The crank of the crossbow makes Yoongi freeze mid-recovery. He looks up the hill to where Jimin stands at the top, weapon aimed at him. Yoongi’s heart pounds in his chest. Jimin is small and built like a panther, all sleek angles and muscles. He doesn’t blink, staring down at Yoongi, a small finger on the trigger.

This is what the god of death looks like, Yoongi thinks. Jimin is in all black, a terrible cruelty on his face. Suddenly Yoongi feels like the ant underneath Jimin’s boot. He only knows fear in moments like this, where Jimin’s eyes are so black that Yoongi thinks he will fall into Jimin’s gaze and let it swallow him whole.

Yoongi thinks he’s going to do it. It was always going to end like this anyway. Yoongi knew it would always be Jimin who killed him when Yoongi lost one of Jimin’s games or finally failed to entertain the prince. This tortuous cycle has a shelf life, and every road leads to Jimin finally doing it, finally pushing Yoongi over the edge.

Instead of firing the crossbow, Jimin grins wickedly and lowers it, tossing it to the side. The weapon clatters heavily. No sooner than Jimin disarms himself is Yoongi running away. The prince snarls and takes off after him, swearing.

“You little bitch!” Jimin seethes, sliding down into the dell behind Yoongi. “I’ll put you down like a fucking dog!” 

Jimin is not heavy or large like Namjoon, but he’s fast and strong. When he tackles Yoongi at the waist, Yoongi feels a bone crack. He doesn’t know where in his body the break is, but pain makes his vision flash as they slam to the ground, Jimin moving to pin him immediately. As delicate as Jimin looks, he’s still a warrior with years of training with Namjoon, a beautiful weapon but lethal all the same. 

Yoongi goes down face first. The shock of the pain makes his ears ring, the air leaving his lungs. He gasps and gets all leaves and dirt into his mouth as he maneuvers his arms from under him, intending to push upward to throw Jimin off. Jimin growls and digs his knee into Yoongi’s back, pressing down right on the spine as he reaches forward to pin both of Yoongi’s hands to the ground. 

Rearing his head back, Yoongi connects with Jimin’s face. The prince lets out a loud noise and Yoongi grins, wriggling under Jimin in hopes that the pain blinds him long enough for Yoongi to work a hand free. 

Jimin’s nails dig into the top of Yoongi’s hands, biting sharply into his skin. “Cease, Shadow. You’ve lost.”

The fight leaves Yoongi immediately. He’s entirely boneless, a puppet waiting for its master to pull his string. Jimin puts all of his weight on the knee pressing on Yoongi’s back, making the guard wince. Jimin’s kneecap is agony against Yoongi’s spine, pressing the air out of him slowly as Jimin lets Yoongi suffer against the ground. 

Finally, his weight shifts. Jimin straddles Yoongi’s waist, still holding Yoongi’s wrists to the ground as he lowers his face, panting against the side of Yoongi’s face. The guard feels a shiver go through him, Jimin’s breath is hot as his tongue snakes out to brush against the shell of Yoongi’s ear. 

“Much better than a stag,” Jimin whispers, voice like velvet and smoke. He nips at Yoongi’s lobe, teeth sharp against the soft skin. “What should I do with my prize, hmm?” 

One of Jimin’s hands lets go of Yoongi’s wrist. Jimin’s touch is delicate and slow, dragging his fingers up Yoongi’s sleeved arm. Even through the fabric, Yoongi can feel Jimin’s hot touch, chasing away the cold of the ground. He squirms and Jimin bites Yoongi’s cheek hard. He goes still and Jimin licks the fresh teeth marks, the ache in Yoongi’s cheek immediate. 

“Should I take your body and mount you on the wall?” Jimin’s hand reaches Yoongi’s shoulder and dips down to grab his face, turning him to the side. Yoongi looks at Jimin from the corner of his eye, but he can only see dark hair as Jimin presses his lips to the corner of Yoongi’s mouth and asks, “Or should I just… mount you?” 

Yoongi trembles as the prince’s tongue snakes out to lick messily from the corner of Yoongi’s mouth towards the bleeding, burning cut on his cheek. Jimin tsks, running his tongue over the cut. Yoongi wines, the rough drag of Jimin’s done making it burn more. Jimin ignores him, tongue laving back and forth over the wound, the tip of his tongue prodding.

“Did I hurt you?” Jimin coos. He speaks with his mouth pressed to Yoongi’s skin, smearing spit and blood. The switch from threatening to endearing makes Yoongi’s head spin. He is no longer a lethal guard of the Court of Thorns. He’s Jimin’s plaything. “I’m sorry, Shadow. Your face is so pretty, I shouldn’t do anything to harm it.”

“It’s not deep.” 

“Hmmm.” Jimin presses sloppy, spit-slick kisses down Yoongi’s jaw. Yoongi closes his eyes, letting the prince do what he wants. All instinct to fight has left, leaving only a blank canvas for Jimin to paint. “You’re right, Shadow. It’s a very shallow wound. You can take so much more pain than that, can’t you?”

Yoongi nods. “Speak, Shadow,” Jimin commands.

“Yes, my prince. I can take more than that.”

“Of course you can. You’re made for me. Designed for me. You can take what I give you, can’t you?”

“Yes.” 

Jimin bites Yoongi’s jaw, his sharp canines pinching soft skin. Yoongi’s fingers dig into the soft ground. “You bleed when I want you to, you take it when I want you to.” 

Jimin’s scent makes Yoongi too dizzy to reply. His body blazes as Jimin pulls at Yoongi’s clothes, his hands greedy. Jimin mouths at Yoongi’s neck, his jaw. Yoongi’s breathing is unsteady, unable to string together enough thought to help Jimin take Yoongi’s shirt off. 

The craving to be pinned down and marked over and over until his skin can’t take it and until there is nothing left swells. The shame of Yoongi letting himself be used like this is white-hot, but the pride of being Jimin’s prized possession soothes the burn.

“Mine,” Jimin growls as he reaches into Yoongi’s pants, gripping Yoongi’s already hard and throbbing cock. He bites Yoongi’s shoulder hard enough to draw blood. Yoongi succumbs to the pleasure, his hips canting in the dirt, the pain shooting him into deliria as Jimin continues to tongue at him. “My Shadow.” 

Jimin’s hands aren’t gentle. He squeezes the base of Yoongi’s shaft firmly, slowly stroking upward. The friction between Yoongi’s stomach and the ground isn’t pleasant but isn’t terrible as Jimin sucks at Yoongi’s neck, mouth taking whatever the prince wants. 

“Get up on your knees,” Jimin whispers, removing his hand from Yoongi’s cock. He gets off of Yoongi, giving the guard space to move. 

Every limb feels like lead as he does. It feels like the world has flipped upside down, making Yoongi unsteady as he gets on his hands and knees. Cool air kisses his skin, making the laceration on his cheek and bite on his shoulder burn. The pain only spurs the pleasure further. 

“Take your pants off,” Jimin says. He doesn’t touch Yoongi, happy to watch the guard fumble on unbalanced limbs. “Do it right or I’ll skin you like a fucking bear and bring you back to the seamstress to fashion myself a new coat.”

Yoongi can’t tell if the threat is empty or not. He thinks about the time that Jimin cut a small rectangle out of Yoongi’s thigh to give to the tanners to turn it into a small coin pouch. The coin pouch is probably still tied to Jimin’s belt now as Yoongi sits up high on his knees and unbuckles his breeches, taking them down with trembling hands. 

Free of his pants, he dares a look over his shoulder at Jimin. The prince is shirtless, his perfect skin gleaming in the haunting moonlight filtering through the trees. Jimin is a testament to his father’s heritage from the Court of Moons, an ethereal creature stitched with moonbeam threads and filled with shadow watercolors. 

Beautiful. Cruel. Hateful. Affectionate. 

Yoongi can’t ever recall where it felt like Jimin loved him. Cherished him and admired him like a beautiful piece of porcelain, perhaps. Mistified and awed, even, when he could break Yoongi down and mold him into any shape he wanted, like clay.

Now, his gaze is thunderous. His pupils are blown wide, and when a cloud reveals the moon in full, Jimin looks like a demon from the worst of Yoongi’s nightmares. Still, Yoongi doesn’t run. He turns to face forward, slowly bending over until his elbows are on the cool earth, his ass up in the air. 

Yoongi’s cock is heavy between his legs. The first time Jimin worked him up like this, Yoongi had been a shell of himself for days. Didn’t know what to do with the knowledge that being broken and split open into something that felt less than sentient made his arousal swell. 

Jimin’s nails scrape against the curves of Yoongi’s ass. He sucks in a sharp breath. Goosebumps spread on his skin, his entire spine tingling as Jimin’s nails turn to claws, prying him open and digging into the softness of him. 

Cool wind makes Yoongi clench. Jimin tuts and shuffles closer to Yoongi. The heat of his body is against the back of Yoongi’s thighs, the contrast of hot and cold making Yoongi spin. When cool spit hits the edge of Yoongi’s rim, he moans audibly. He feels the slide of Jimin’s saliva drip further down his ass. Yoongi’s breath comes out in pants and Jimin’s nails dig in.

“This is mine,” Jimin mutters. Yoongi can barely hear him over the beating of his own heart and the roaring of blood in his ears. He scarcely notices the way his cock aches, beads of precum oozing from the tip as Jimin blows air onto the thigh ring of muscles. “Hmm. You’re all tight, Shadow. You gonna let me in, huh?” 

Yoongi nods. His head drops and presses against the earth. He smells damp leaves, sweat and Jimin’s honeysuckle scent, too sweet for the demon it belongs to. “Yes, my prince.”

Jimin spits in Yoongi’s hole again. Yoongi bites his bottom lip, trying to control himself. All he wants to do is press his hips back. If he does that, he won’t get fucked at all. He has to be the perfect little puppet, only doing what Jimin asks, speaking only when told. 

One of Jimin’s hands dips between Yoongi’s cheeks. He tries not to sigh when Jimin presses a finger against his rim, the pressure so good. Jimin plays with Yoongi’s asshole, tracing the edge before pressing his finger in just a little. It’s both heaven and hell, the intrusion such a relief that Yoongi doesn’t hear what Jimin asks him.

He immediately regrets letting himself drift too far. Jimin bites Yoongi’s ass cheek so hard that Yoongi screams, rearing back his head. In Yoongi’s experience, there are two levels of pain he receives at the hands of Jimin: good pain and scary pain. Jimin’s bite verges on the edge of scary pain, punishment for not answering and a warning that next time, he’ll take flesh. 

“I said,” Jimin growls. “To lay all the way down with your hands out in front of you.”

Yoongi complies immediately. Gone is the guard who commands Jimin’s entire personal security team. The sword-wielding warrior who has killed in wars, in protection for Jimin, and for petty squabbles is nowhere to be found. 

In his place is a pliable medium. Pressed entirely flat on the ground, knees high, face in the dirt. He lays his hands out in front of him, clasping them there. It’s comforting to hold onto something, even if it’s just his own hands. 

Pleasure expands in Yoongi’s stomach as Jimin begins to work his fingers in properly. The stretch makes the eyes roll back in Yoongi’s head. He tries not to get too lost in the feeling, remembering to be on edge for Jimin asking a question or telling him to do something. It keeps Yoongi right on the cusp of insanity, a difficult and rewarding task as he fights succumbing to the way blood rushes through him. 

Fuck he wants to cum. Yoongi bites the inside of his cheek, drawing blood as Jimin works his fingers in Yoongi's ass, the press so good. Jimin firmly brushes up against Yoongi’s prostate, making him go dumb. Yoongi’s mouth is slack as he pants, knees and thighs trembling, keeping his ass in the same exact spot for Jimin. 

“Look at you,” Jimin coos. “What would everyone think if they knew my personal guard was such a little fuck toy? If they knew he was incapable of doing anything but submitting?”

The question is rhetorical. Yoongi always plays a  guessing game of when Jimin wants a response, but this one, he knows.

Jimin fucks Yoongi with his fingers harder, stretching him open. Yoongi whines, feels pleasure cresting to an unbearable amount as Jimin hammers Yoongi’s prostate. The prince laughs, not giving Yoongi the command to come, but rather watching the guard fight it instead. Yoongi’s muscles lock up as he resists the urge to squirm. He stops breathing, squeezing his eyes shut, jaw clenched as he fights it, trying to think of anything but the fact that he’s so close to his orgasm he could die. 

If Jimin keeps going, Yoongi’s going to come. If Yoongi comes without Jimin explicitly telling him to, Yoongi is going to experience the scary pain. 

Every nerve in Yoongi’s body feels on fire. It feels like he’s burning, burning, burning, like he’s never going to stop. He tastes the iron and salt of blood in his mouth as he bites through his cheek, feels the way his heart hammers in his ribcage, and starts to shake so much that Yoongi thinks he’s going to come out of his skin. 

Yoongi realizes Jimin isn’t going to give him permission. The weight of reality crushes him. Yoongi begins to sob into the dirt, trying to hang on to any shred of control he has. Jimin wants him to come without permission, wants to unleash hell on him. Yoongi claws at the dirt, desperately trying not to cave, to let Jimin milk it out of him. 

Jimin’s warm mouth presses to the back of Yoongi’s neck. He puts his weight on Yoongi, smothering him, keeping him still. Yoongi thinks this is it, this is when he lets go. He prepares for the oncoming violence like a storm in the distance. 

And then Jimin tells him to come. Yoongi’s brows scrunch together. He opens his eyes, trying to look at Jimin. He can’t see the prince’s face, but Jimin must sense Yoongi’s confusion. “Don’t make me tell you again,” Jimin murmurs against Yoongi’s neck. 

It’s like a damn breaking. Yoongi shatters, coming hard. His entire body seizes up, the sound coming out of his throat guttural and loud. His vision pulses black on the edges and he closes his eyes, squeezing them hard as an explosion of colors flashes behind his eyelids.

He can’t think. He can’t breathe. He succumbs to the sensation, pins and needles taking over as he shakes through the last of his orgasm. He is somewhat aware of Jimin behind him, pulling his fingers out and running his cockhead against Yoongi’s hole. He mewls, not ready for another orgasm. Jimin doesn’t care, pushing past the clenching muscles and pressing into Yoongi.

The stretch and pressure pull Yoongi from his drooling daze. If he was sensitive before, it’s nothing compared to now. He’s flayed open and raw to every stroke of Jimin’s cock pulling him apart. Oversensitive. Exposed, sparking wires. 

Yoongi hurts. The bite in his shoulder throbs, his cock hurts where it’s squeezed between his stomach and the ground, his cheek stings, bones ache, wet hole throbs as Jimin bottoms out, spearing Yoongi all the way through. 

It makes him vibrate, eyes fluttering as Jimin begins to snap his hips, hands gripping Yoongi’s waist and slamming him back. Every thrust threatens to break him in half, his face and body dragging against the ground. 

Jimin rakes his nails up Yoongi’s back, breaking the skin. Yoongi keens, toes curling at the biting feeling, sinking further into the heady mix in his head and gut. Jimin’s fingers wrap in the sweaty hair at the back of Yoongi’s neck. He knows what’s coming next but he still yelps when Jimin yanks, lifting Yoongi from the forest floor to his knees. 

Everything feels off-kilter. Yoongi gasps for air. Jimin claws Yoongi’s scalp, making his eyes water as Jimin fucks up into him. Jimin pulls Yoongi’s neck back painfully, holding him by the hair, and presses his lips to Yoongi’s cheek. It’s more teeth and tongue as Jimin continues to abuse Yoongi’s hole. 

He bites Yoongi’s cheek and laughs. “Such soft cheeks,” Jimin hisses, punctuating his words with the snap of his hips. “Such a soft fucking boy, huh? So delicate, so breakable.”

“Yes,” Yoongi agrees because it’s true. Yoongi feels made to shatter. Feels better when broken under the small hands of the prince. Feels whole when he’s splintered. “Yes.”

“Can’t even speak right.” Jimin slides a hand around the front of Yoongi’s throat and squeezes. Yoongi’s air supply is cut short. He feels the slow drip of the bleeding welts on his back, stinging as Jimin’s sweaty front rubs against the wounds. “What are you good for?” 

“Only you,” Yoongi chokes out.

Jimin’s grip tightens. “Don’t be smart, Shadow. I won’t go any easier on you for flattery.” 

Yoongi knows this. He wasn’t saying it for Jimin’s benefit. Because that’s the thing about whatever this violence between them is. It makes Yoongi feel whole, makes it feel like as long as he and Jimin have this between them, he’s made for something. 

Without it, Yoongi doesn’t know what he is. A faerie bred by two warriors to give the king and queen’s child a protector to grow with. Whose only reason for existing is to serve. Who has no goals of his own, who has no life outside of the prince. Without it, he’s not Yoongi. He isn’t Jimin’s. 

So Yoongi doesn’t say it for his benefit. He knows Jimin won’t go easier. Won’t fuck him softer or let go of his throat. He says it because he means it and he doesn’t want Jimin to let up anyway. He could die like this, no air in his lungs, mind detaching from his body. 

Between the pain and the feeling of Jimin’s cockhead pressing up against his prostate, Yoongi loses himself. He becomes a thing made only for Jimin’s pleasure. He becomes no one and nothing, suspended somewhere between life and death, only alive for Jimin to use. 

This is where Yoongi loves being most. Here, he doesn’t have to worry about protecting Jimin’s life every hour of the day. He doesn’t have to worry about navigating Jimin’s moods. He doesn’t have to calculate every word out of his mouth at court, doesn’t have to wonder what waits for him if - if Jimin ever tires of him, if he ever loses his position, if he ever becomes anything other than Jimin’s, if he dies.

If haunts Yoongi so often that he wants nothing to do with it. Nothing to do with anything outside of this, as Jimin lets Yoongi’s throat go, Yoongi’s lungs filling with air so quickly that it’s too much, snapping him right out of subspace to the present, where Jimin grabs Yoongi’s head and slams him forward again.

Yoongi’s hips collapse this time. He’s prone under Jimin as the prince chases his own orgasm, feral and rough. It hurts, but Yoongi comes dry anyway when Jimin tells him to, feels the helpless snap of pleasure inside of him. He loses the reality of it for a moment, feels the world run between his fingers like blood. 

When Yoongi comes back from wherever it is his mind goes in moments like these, he sees stars. The night is a watercolor of blue-black and lights above him. He hurts everywhere he can imagine. It burns his throat to breathe and his skin is chafed and irritated, covered in dirt and cum and blood. He feels bruised like aged fruit, and the puffy rim of his asshole feels ruined and swollen. 

A shadow blots out the sky. Yoongi blinks a few times, realizing it’s Jimin leaning over him. Demon. God. Prince of the Court of Thorns. His dark hair is damp with sweat, pushed back out of his face to reveal dark, alien eyes. There is clarity in them Yoongi only sees after Jimin’s fucked or killed, the calm after a storm. 

Tilting his head to the side, Jimin studies Yoongi like a gardener would inspect an insect. Suddenly, Yoongi feels too exposed and soft all over, breaking eye contact as he chooses to stare at the boughs of the shadow trees instead. He feels the water leaking from his eyes, the tears that come sometimes during. After. 

Jimin brushes a thumb across Yoongi’s cheek. The guard flinches on instinct, but Jimin ignores it. “Get up.” The command is soft, but Yoongi will find no comfort here as he struggles to keep up with the turmoil inside of him. “I want to go to bed.” 

Nodding, Yoongi tries to sit up. His limbs are still shaking and he feels disoriented. Jimin doesn’t help him, already fully dressed in black as he looks up at the night sky. Brushing himself off, Yoongi slowly pulls himself together. Slides back into The Guard, hides away just Yoongi. 

Jimin doesn’t rush him. Doesn’t jeer or lash out at him. He allows Yoongi this time of quiet to glue together what Jimin has shattered. 

When Yoongi is standing, albeit unevenly on his feet, Jimin turns to look at him. His face is impassive and beautiful. “You broke easy today,” Jimin notes. No reprimand. Just a sheer fact. Yoongi hesitates before nodding. “We’ll fix that, Shadow.” 

Yoongi’s mouth twitches at the corner a bit as he nods and follows Jimin as the prince heads back to the horses. Yoongi keeps close, his footsteps mimicking the prince’s, forever his shadow. 

[rtzyyy]

Master thread

💕 1000 yoonmin fics I love

[themininthemoon]

If Our Hands Touched

ONE SHOT | AO3

 12,925 words

Min Yoongi/Park Jimin | FtM Park Jimin | Surrogacy | A/B/O | Mpreg | Vaginal Sex | Top MYG/ BTM PJM | Somnophillia | Mild Angst | Fluff | Smut

Jimin’s smile widens, eyes crinkling up at the corners. He unfurls before Yoongi’s eyes, the protective way he’d been holding himself opening up and becoming more receptive.

“Hello, Min Yoongi.”

They smile at each other.

Yoongi feels silly, heart beating hard in his chest.

“You’re beautiful,” he says the words before his lips can catch them, immediate regret creasing his forehead. He bows his head, waiting for the sound of Jimin leaving the meeting room—it wouldn’t be the first time Yoongi’s run a potential surrogate off, though last time it certainly wasn’t with sweet words—but it doesn’t come.

He looks up to find Jimin smiling at him, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Well, thank you, Min Yoongi, I’m glad I passed the first part of the interview at least.”

The omega they pair him with is pretty, but guarded, holding themself stiff on their side of the booth. Their arms are crossed tight over their chest, gaze down on the table between them. They have a warm, citrusy scent that compliments Yoongi’s own woody bergamot. He wonders if it’s on purpose before deciding it’s a coincidence—so little about this process has been left up to chance, Yoongi likes the idea of this small happenstance. The omegas hair is cut short, but that’s not really enough to tell Yoongi their gender just by looking.

The omega is very pretty.

“What are your pronouns?” Yoongi asks, leaning forward in his seat with his hands clasped together on the tabletop between them.

The omega smiles and that is pretty too.

“He/him,” the omega says with a voice like bells chiming, sweet and warm. It matches his smile. “My name is Jimin.”

“Jimin,” Yoongi repeats, tasting the syllables. “I’m Min Yoongi; he/him too.”

Jimin’s smile widens, eyes crinkling up at the corners. He unfurls before Yoongi’s eyes, the protective way he’d been holding himself opening up and becoming more receptive.

“Hello, Min Yoongi.”

They smile at each other.

Yoongi feels silly, heart beating hard in his chest.

“You’re beautiful,” he says the words before his lips can catch them, immediate regret creasing his forehead. He bows his head, waiting for the sound of Jimin leaving the meeting room—it wouldn’t be the first time Yoongi’s run a potential surrogate off, though last time it certainly wasn’t with sweet words—but it doesn’t come.

He looks up to find Jimin smiling at him, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Well, thank you, Min Yoongi, I’m glad I passed the first part of the interview at least.”

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi apologizes, sincere. “I’m usually much better at being professional.”

“That’s okay,” Jimin reassures him. “This isn’t a wholly professional decision. I think… it’s quite emotional, really. Was your partner unable to come with you today?”

Yoongi looks at the empty space beside himself in surprise, blinking. He looks back up at Jimin and laughs quietly, shaking his head.

“I don’t have a partner,” he says.

Jimin hides his surprise well, but Yoongi knows he must be feeling it.

The last two surrogates had heard he was alone and ended the meetings, apologetic.

Jimin doesn’t move. He has a curious little smile on his face, head tilted ever so slightly to the side.

“You’ve just decided that fatherhood is for you?”

Yoongi shrugs then he nods, firmly, like he means it.

“I did.”

“And you don’t want to wait to find a partner to have a child with?”

Yoongi purses his lips against his discomfort with this line of questioning, knowing that the power here is in Jimin’s hands—Yoongi may get his pick of omegas, but the omega has to agree too.

“No. I—” Yoongi licks his lips. “I had a partner for six years. We parted ways due to differences in opinion about children—he asked me to wait, so I waited. And waited. And then one day, finally, he said that he didn’t want children at all,” Yoongi laces his fingers together on the tabletop. “That was the end of things.”

Jimin looks sad.

Yoongi wonders what he’s thinking.

“I’m sorry to hear that,” is what Jimin says. Yoongi braces for rejection. “I’d like to meet again, if you agree to it, so we can talk a bit more about your plans and how this will work.”

Yoongi perks up, sitting straight in his seat.

“I would like that,” he says.

Jimin smiles. He stands and bows his head.

“It was nice to meet you, Alpha Min. I hope to see you again soon.”

Yoongi stands quickly, bowing his head in turn.

“And you, Omega Park. Thank you for your consideration.”

Jimin smiles.

He leaves.

*

Jimin goes to his next introductory meeting with a warmth in his belly, smiling sweetly at the couple waiting for him in the next room.

They’re very nice, stable.

“We’ve been trying for years,” the omega says tearfully, hand clasped between their mate’s.

Jimin nods his head, swallowing hard, hands on his stomach. The alpha hasn’t stopped looking him up and down since they introduced themselves, but Jimin has learned this is normal.

They’re kind and Jimin feels for them, but he can’t stop thinking of Yoongi.

The next couple he meets too, are warm and kind and desperately searching for help, but Jimin thinks of the lone alpha who just wants to be a dad and he smiles and tells them it was nice to meet them without mentioning meeting again.

He thinks about Yoongi for the rest of the day, his hands, his voice, his sincerity.

Jimin bites his lip, shaking the thoughts away.

“Drink up!” Taehyung calls over the din of the bar. “Once you’re carrying there won’t be anymore soju for you!”

Jimin rolls his eyes and laughs, tapping his glass to Taehyung’s before taking a sip.

“That assumes some couple is going to choose me to carry their pup,” he says.

“Of course they will!” Taehyung enthuses. He wiggles his eyebrows. “Look at you.”

Jimin flushes and punches Taehyung in the shoulder.

“What about you?” Taehyung asks. “Did you meet any couples with potential today?”

“Mm, no,” Jimin says. Taehyung deflates. “I met an alpha though.”

Taehyung perks back up.

“No shit, is he cute?”

Jimin rolls his eyes, taking another drink.

“At the center, you goof, not like. For me.”

“Oh. Well, is he cute?” Taehyung repeats.

Jimin thinks about Yoongi, his hands, his voice, his sincerity.

He blushes, cheeks going warm.

“Yes.”

“Ooh, you like him,” Taehyung says, eyebrows high.

“No!” Jimin exclaims.

“Methinks the lady doth protest too much,” Taehyung quotes.

Jimin rolls his eyes.

“I don’t like him. I just think he has potential.”

Taehyung looks skeptical, but doesn’t push.

“What’s his story?” He asks. “Why’s he trying to do it alone?”

Jimin wets his lips. He shrugs.

“He said he had a partner for many years who lied about wanting children.”

Taehyung’s eyes go wide.

“No shit? That sucks.”

“Yeah. Six years.”

“Six?!”

Jimin nods and Taehyung whistles.

“That’s a hell of a thing to lie about, especially for so long.”

“Right?” Jimin shakes his head. “It’s not very fair.”

“I guess I see why he’s decided to just get it done himself then if he waited that long for nothing.”

“Yeah,” Jimin murmurs, looking down into his drink. He sighs. “I think I want to do this for him.”

“That fast? You talked, what? Five minutes?”

“Yeah, I know. I just—” Jimin presses his lips together. He shrugs. “There’s something about him.”

“You like him,” Taehyung cautions, no more levity in his voice.

“I don’t,” Jimin insists, shaking his head. “I barely know him.”

“But you want to give him a baby.”

“Well, isn’t that what this whole surrogacy thing is about?”

Taehyung sighs.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt, Jimin. It’s difficult enough to have a baby and give it up, but if you develop feelings for the sire…”

“I’m not developing feelings for anyone,” Jimin huffs, knocking back his drink. “And you’re the one that convinced me surrogacy would be a good fit.”

“I know,” Taehyung frowns. He taps his fingertips on the bartop. “I’m not sure if I regret that yet.”

Jimin rolls his eyes. He gestures for another round.

*

“So… '' Yoongi drags the word out, hands in his pockets. They’re walking through the gardens on the clinic grounds, coat collars turned up against the wind. He clears his throat, looking at Jimin. “What do you like to do, Jimin?”

“I dance,” Jimin says, smiling a little. His hands are tucked in the turns of his elbows. “And I like to read and I play video games sometimes. I’m not very good,” he laughs quietly. “But it’s fun. I spend a lot of time with my friends,” he shrugs. “I don’t know. I guess I’m pretty boring.”

There’s a little smile on Yoongi’s face, teeth peeking out from behind his lips, eyes soft.

“I don’t think you’re boring,” he says and Jimin has to look away.

“What about you, Yoongi? What do you like to do?” Jimin asks after a beat, turning back to find Yoongi’s eyes and getting only the side of his face.

Yoongi pauses, thinking before he answers.

“I… write,” he says at length. “And I like to read, listen to music, watch films, that kind of thing. I play piano pretty well.”

Jimin’s eyes brighten. He straightens, smiling.

“You play piano? I love the piano! I never got to learn because I was so obsessed with dance, but I’ve always loved a good accompanist.”

Yoongi chuckles, low.

The warm sound travels through the cold air and sends a shiver down Jimin’s spine. He swallows hard, head down. His chapped cheeks are suddenly very warm.

“What kind of music do you listen to?” Jimin asks.

Yoongi hums thoughtfully.

“Mostly rap,” he says, easy.

Jimin blinks in surprise and Yoongi catches it, smirking something sly in the corner of his mouth.

“You didn’t expect that, huh?”

Jimin huffs a laugh. He shakes his head.

“No,” he admits.

Yoongi knocks their shoulders together, a friendly gesture.

“What about you?”

Jimin blows into his cold hands before he answers. He shrugs.

“I like a lot of r&b and jazz, hip-hop, classical, the gamut, really.”

“Really?” Yoongi nods appreciatively. “What’s your favourite song right now?”

“Heize – We Don’t Talk Together,” Jimin says immediately.

Yoongi’s steps stutter.

“You don’t like it?” Jimin asks, eyes wide, curious.

He’s stopped to look back at Yoongi. Yoongi shakes his head.

“No!” Yoongi clears his throat. “No, I do, sorry, something must have tripped me.”

“Oh,” Jimin frowns, looking down at the walking path for something that could have done so. He sees nothing and shrugs. “You should be careful.”

Yoongi nods. “Of course, yeah.”

They continue walking.

“Well, what about you?” Jimin asks after a moment.

“Hm?”

“You’re favourite song right now,” Jimin prompts.

“Oh!” Yoongi nods. “It’s always ‘Big Poppa’.”

Jimin laughs.

“What?” Yoongi asks, a smile playing on his lips.

Jimin shakes his head, waving a hand in front of his face.

“Sorry, sorry, it’s just– ‘Big Poppa’?”

It takes a moment for the words to click but when they do Yoongi throws his head back and laughs.

Their shoulders brush.

Jimin tucks his hands back into his elbows, arms crossed.

“What made you decide to be a surrogate, Jimin?” Yoongi asks after a comfortable silence.

“Oh, I— my friend convinced me, actually.” Jimin licks his lips. “I’ll be honest… it’s not a very altruistic reason, but…” Jimin sighs. He shrugs. “I lost my job and had to use all my savings to keep a roof over my head so…”

“The money,” Yoongi nods.

Jimin shrinks a little, but Yoongi smiles at him.

“Hey, no judgment here. I just hope you’ve really thought it through?”

“Oh, yeah, of course,” Jimin nods. “You know there’s mandated therapy before they let you be a surrogate here.”

“I did know that,” Yoongi says, smiling a little to take the sting out. “But still, it’s not an easy thing.”

“No,” Jimin agrees. “But I think… being able to do this for someone else is kind of special.”

“Yeah,” Yoongi says and Jimin looks at him.

He remembers that Yoongi’s here for the same reasons as all the other couples he’s met in the past few weeks.

“Yoongi,” Jimin starts softly. He waits for Yoongi to meet his eyes before he goes on. “You’re really very serious about this baby, right?”

Yoongi blinks. He straightens.

“Of course I am. I wouldn’t be here if I wasn’t.”

Jimin nods once, firmly.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I think we should talk a bit more, but…” Jimin takes a deep breath. He squares his shoulders. “I want to do this for you.”

Yoongi stares, mouth agape.

“You’re serious?” he demands.

Jimin nods again, firmly. He refuses to acknowledge the twinge of nerves, the alarm bells ringing in the back of his head telling him this is a bad idea.

“I’m serious.”

Yoongi rushes him, startling a squeak out of Jimin when he’s lifted off his feet, Yoongi’s arms tight around his middle.

Yoongi’s nose is pressed to Jimin’s collarbone and he takes a deep breath of Jimin’s warm, citrusy scent.

“Thank you,” he breathes, breath hot and damp against the peek of skin where Jimin’s shirt collar falls open.

He sets Jimin back on his feet, moving his hands to Jimin’s shoulders.

They look each other in the eye and Jimin is moved to see tears in Yoongi’s lashes.

“Thank you,” the alpha says again.

Jimin smiles, blinking away tears of his own. He wipes at his cheeks.

“You made me cry,” he sniffles, flapping a hand Yoongi’s way. “Stop it.”

Yoongi laughs.

*

“I feel like this might be a bad idea,” Taehyung says again.

Jimin huffs.

“It’s not a bad idea,” he says, tugging a beanie on over his blonde hair. “It’s a good and selfless idea—”

“—that you’re getting paid for.”

“… Yeah,” Jimin glares over at Taehyung. “Need I remind you again that this was your idea?”

Taehyung crosses his arms over his chest.

“Please, don’t.”

Jimin rolls his eyes.

“I don’t get why you’re so set against this suddenly.”

“I’m not suddenly against anything, but you agreeing to give a baby to an alpha you clearly like when the whole thing about surrogacy is needing to remain professional and unattached.”

“I am professional!” Jimin protests. “And unattached!”

“You’re wearing lipgloss,”

Jimin presses his shining lips together.

“So.”

Taehyung throws his arms up in the air and storms down the hallway toward his room.

Jimin rolls his eyes at the dramatic display and finishes bundling up for the cold to come. He slides on his shoes and calls a “Goodbye!” down the hall before stepping out of the apartment, locking the door behind him.

Yoongi is waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs with a to go cup of hot chocolate, dark hair pushed back from his forehead. He’s wearing black glasses and a black peacoat, black turtleneck underneath with black slacks and black loafers and Jimin has to pause and take a breath before he smiles and says his hellos and thank yous as he takes the proffered cup of hot cocoa from Yoongi’s hand.

“Thank you for picking me up,” Jimin says quietly.

Yoongi shrugs.

“It’s on my way,” he says.

“Still,” Jimin smiles. “Thank you. It’ll be nice to have company on the walk.”

“Of course,” Yoongi smiles, eyes darting briefly to meet Jimin’s before turning back to the path ahead. “It must have been boring before.”

“A little,” Jimin agrees. He takes a sip of his cocoa, relishing in its rich warmth. “My roommate comes with me sometimes, but he’s really busy with work these days.”

“You’ve mentioned him before,” Yoongi murmurs, “Taehyung, right?”

JImin nods.

“He sounds like a good friend.”

“The best,” Jimin agrees, smiling. “We’ve known each other since we were kids—he’s my soulmate.”

Jimin isn’t sure what the face Yoongi makes means, but he shoves down on the urge to clarify that he means that as platonically as he possibly can. That’s not really Yoongi’s concern.

“And he’s the one who suggested you be a surrogate?” Yoongi asks after a lengthy pause where they drank their drinks in silence.

Jimin nods, meek. He holds his hot chocolate in both hands.

“Yeah.”

Yoongi nods.

A long silence.

“I guess you should thank him for me,” Yoongi says, cracking half a smile.

Jimin huffs a laugh, looking down at the sidewalk ahead of them.

“Can do.”

They walk quietly for a while, letting the sudden awkwardness dissipate into the cold winter air.

Yoongi clears his throat.

“Did you sleep well?” he asks.

“Yes!” Jimin straightens. “I did, yes, thank you for asking. Did you?”

Yoongi nods then shrugs his shoulders, making a face.

“I don’t sleep much.” He says.

“That’s no good,” Jimin frowns. “You’ve gotta get as much sleep as possible before your baby is here.”

“Is that right? Isn’t it a strength to be practiced at sleeplessness?”

“No,” Jimin says stubbornly.

Yoongi chuckles.

“Okay, I’ll try to sleep more then.”

“Good.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

Yoongi laughs, running a hand through his hair. He looks away from Jimin, shaking his head with an amused turn to his lips. He mutters something under his breath that Jimin doesn’t ask him to repeat, afraid he heard that “He’s cute” correctly.

It’s their fifth meeting.

They get to speak to a nurse from the clinic today.

*

“Alright, we’ve got all the important blood work and paperwork done. Checkups: done. Home check: done. You’ve both been approved by psych and of course the compatibility team. Everything looks good,” the nurse smiles at them where they sit on opposite sides of one of the small tables in the meeting rooms, her at the end. “I just have a couple questions to go over and a few things for you to sign and then you’ll be,” she beams, smile moving from Jimin to land brightly on Yoongi. “Ready for your baby.”

Yoongi’s heart skips a beat, smiling at her with his whole face, teeth and gums on display. He turns his smile on Jimin and reaches across the table to lay a hand on top of Jimin’s where they’re folded together on the tabletop.

“Thank you,” he says.

Jimin smiles back, cheeks a pretty pink.

“I’m glad I can do this for you,” he says softly.

The nurse clears her throat quietly and Yoongi takes his hand back, tucking it close to his body, suddenly self conscious. He turns his attention back to her, wanting to make sure he hears everything he needs to.

She smiles understandingly.

“Now, first things first,” she’s holding a clipboard up, pen at the ready. She’s not looking at him. “What was your preferred insemination method?”

“Natural,” Yoongi blurts without thinking. He has to physically restrain himself from facepalming, gritting his teeth to keep his expression neutral and not look Jimin’s way. That was not what he’d decided before. “That is… if Jimin is comfortable with that. I am also open to artificial insemination.”

“Um,” Jimin is pink, looking down at the tabletop with his hands splayed in front of him. “I think I would prefer trying artificial insemination… first.”

“Of course,” Yoongi nods immediately, waving his hands like he can brush the word ‘natural’ from the air. “Whatever you’re most comfortable with, Jimin.”

The nurse nods, making a note on her clipboard.

“Excellent!” She chirps. “We usually recommend the natural method as a last resort for the comfort of our omega patients, but some do choose to go with that from the get-go. If you change your mind you can do so up to forty-eight hours before your insemination appointment.”

Yoongi nods, smile an awkward line across his lips.

Jimin’s head is still down, eyes on his hands.

Yoongi closes his eyes and breathes out slowly through his nose.

He fucked up.

He goes through the rest of the paperwork mechanically, mind on Jimin and making sure he isn’t uncomfortable, but there doesn’t ever seem to be a right time to reassure the omega. He’ll have to wait until the paperwork is done and the nurse leaves.

Yoongi sighs quietly. He initials on the dotted lines.

As soon as the nurse leaves Jimin moves to stand.

“Jimin, wait,” Yoongi calls, quiet but firm.

Jimin stills, turning to face Yoongi. His cheeks immediately go pink again, eyes down instead of meeting Yoongi’s gaze.

“Jimin-ah,” Yoongi sighs softly and Jimin’s scent blooms in the small room. Yoongi swallows hard. “I’m sorry I made you uncomfortable earlier. We should have discussed insemination beforehand so there wouldn’t be any surprises.”

“It’s okay!” Jimin says. “I wasn’t uncomfortable. It just surprised me.”

Yoongi presses his lips together but decides not to press.

“Okay,” he nods, breathing in Jimin’s soft, citrus scent. It curls around him and Yoongi struggles to keep his own scent close to the skin. He swallows hard again, throat bobbing. “That’s good.”

Jimin nods back, reaching for his bag.

“I’ll see you next week,” he says.

“Next week,” Yoongi agrees.

Jimin smiles.

“Goodbye, Yoongi.”

*

Jimin is inseminated for the first time on a Wednesday.

It feels strange.

They ask him to disrobe and he does, changing into the provided hospital gown and climbing onto the cold exam table, paper covering crinkling as he lays back.

There are stirrups at the end of the exam table. Jimin chews nervously on his bottom lip. Seeing those doesn’t usually foretell a pleasant time.

He sighs, laying his head back. He closes his eyes, tapping his fingers on his stomach as he waits.

It’s a few minutes before the doctor comes in, smiling.

“Jimin, it’s nice to see you again. Are you excited?”

Jimin laughs quietly.

“Nervous,” he corrects, smiling a little.

“Whatever for?”

Jimin eyes the stirrups and the doctor laughs, shaking her head.

“Don’t worry about those, just helps make things easier for us to get this handled quickly and efficiently.”

Jimin nods, but the nerves remain, jumping in his belly.

“We’re just waiting on the sample,” the doctor smiles, nodding toward the door.

Jimin’s breath catches, swallowing hard. Suddenly he’s thinking of Yoongi squirreled away in a bathroom somewhere nearby with his hand on his shaft, jacking off into a vial.

Jimin closes his eyes, cheeks warm.

 Don’t get wet.

He thinks, desperately, of baseball facts his stepfather tried to teach him when he was young and wonders what Yoongi’s thinking about, if he’s thinking about—

Jimin shakes his head hard.

“Jimin? Are you okay?” the doctor asks, concerned.

“Yes!” Jimin squeaks, embarrassed. “I’m fine, sorry.”

“Are you sure?” her brow is furrowed, standing to look down at Jimin in concern.

Jimin closes his eyes in mortification and nods.

The doctor hmms but lets him be, sitting back down in her chair.

A moment later a nurse comes in with the sample and Jimin’s cheeks flush again. He stares up at the ceiling.

“Alright Jimin, are you ready?” the doctor asks with a smile.

Jimin swallows hard and nods. He puts his feet in the stirrups as directed, holding his legs open wide.

The doctor inserts a small syringe into his vagina and Jimin feels it against his cervix. She presses down on the plunger and Jimin feels the rapidly cooling semen deep inside him. She removes the syringe and snaps off her gloves, tossing them into the small trash can beside the door.

“And you’re all done!” she chirps.

Jimin moves to take his legs from the stirrups but she stops him.

“Woah, just a second. We’re gonna keep you on your back like this for about fifteen minutes just to make sure the semen gets a chance to move from the cervix and into the uterus.”

“Oh,” Jimin blinks, placing his foot back in its place. “Okay.”

He lays back, fingers laced over his stomach, and waits.

*

The sixth time his period comes right on schedule, Jimin cries.

“I’m sorry,” he sniffles, sitting on the toilet at work, phone cradled to his ear. His uniform pants are around his ankles, underwear stopped at his knees. There’s a tampon fisted in his hand. “I’m sorry, Yoongi.”

“Hey, it’s okay,” Yoongi assures him like every other time. “Aren’t you working?”

Jimin looks around the grubby bathroom stall and nods without thinking.

“Yeah,” he says after a moment of silence.

“Do you want me to come get you?”

Jimin’s face crumples.

“My shift just started,” he whispers, struggling to keep the tears at bay.

“Jimin—”

“I’ll be fine. I just wanted to let you know,” Jimin says quickly.

A sniffle betrays him.

The bathroom door creaks open and there’s a loud sigh. The person bangs on the bathroom stall door.

“Hurry up, Jimin,” his coworker, Hyungsik, says, annoyed already.

“I am working on it,” Jimin hisses. 

“Work faster.”  

Jimin rolls his eyes.

“I have to go,” he whispers into the phone.

“Okay,” Yoongi says, clipped.

Jimin frowns, ready to cry again. He hangs up and does his business, shoving past Hyungsik as he leaves the stall. He groans when he sees his reflection, eyes red-rimmed and swollen. He pokes lightly at his under eye with a sigh.

“What? You get your period again?” Hyungsik sneers, rolling his eyes.

Jimin glares at him through the mirror, not dignifying his taunts with a response. 

Hyungsik sidles closer.

“You know,” he says, putting a hand on Jimin’s hip. “Maybe I could help you with that. Your alpha friend wouldn’t have to know.”

Jimin’s whole face wrinkles in disgust, flicking Hyungsik’s hand away from him.

“Don’t fucking touch me, asshole.”

“Oh, does your alpha know you talk like that?”

Jimin grinds his teeth, washing his hands quickly before turning from the mirror. He pushes past Hyungsik and out onto the restaurant floor. 

The lunch rush is just beginning to ramp up and Jimin could cry, stress already flooding his veins. He grabs an apron from the back and ties it around his waist. He tucks a pad of tickets and a couple pens into the little front pockets. He plasters a smile on his face and walks out to his section.

“Hi!” He chirps, smile warm and wide. “My name is Jimin and I’ll be your server this afternoon.”

Ten hours later he finally clocks out, dead on his feet, but with a wallet full of tips. 

Pulling lunch and dinner service may be grueling, but it’s lucrative.

Jimin walks out the front door with a bunch of other waiters, kitchen staff, and management pulling up the rear.

Hyungsik lets out a low whistle.

“Damn,” he says appreciatively, “Now that’s a car.”

Everyone looks up curiously, following his gaze to the other side of the parking lot. 

As Jimin’s gaze falls on the all black Rolls Royce a familiar figure climbs out of the driver’s side door.

“Park Jimin!” Yoongi calls, waving a hand. “Hurry up.”

“Holy shit—”

“Wait, that’s the alpha?”

“Is it?”

“Jimin—”

“I’ve gotta go,” Jimin says, standing still. He blinks and Yoongi’s still there, hands in his pockets as he moves to lean against the now closed driver’s side door.

“Well fucking go, dude,” someone says, Jimin isn’t sure who.

“Get that bag, baby!”

Jimin shakes his head, ignoring them. He begins to walk, slowly parting from the pack of restaurant workers and growing closer to Yoongi and his Rolls Royce.

“You can drive?!” is the first thing Jimin blurts when he’s close enough. Immediately overcome with embarrassment, he shakes his head at himself. “Of course you can drive. Why did you walk with me before?”

Yoongi shrugs.

“Walking is nice sometimes.”

“You’ve got everyone in a tizzy,” Jimin says.

Yoongi arches a brow.

“The car,” Jimin gestures with a limp hand.

Yoongi’s eyebrows go up then down, settling somewhere neutral.

“Oh, sorry.”

Jimin shakes his head.

“No, it’s fine. I just— how did you know when my shift ended?”

Yoongi shifts on his feet.

“You were complaining yesterday about having to work lunch and dinner.” 

“Oh,” Jimin blinks. “You didn’t have to come.”

Yoongi shrugs. 

“I thought you might like a ride and some company.”

“I’m okay,” Jimin says quietly.

“You’re sure.”

Jimin nods. “I just. I had had a good feeling about this time so when I— and I didn’t sleep well last night so—”

“Hey, it’s okay. You don’t have to justify your emotions to me, Jimin. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m okay.”

“Okay.”

There’s a beat of silence. 

Yoongi licks his lips. He gestures to the car.

“Would you like a ride home?”

“Yes, please.”

When they get to Jimin’s apartment, Yoongi walks him to the door.

Jimin doesn’t invite him in.

“Thank you,” he says instead.

Yoongi smiles, nodding his head.

“No problem,” he says. “You can call or text me for a ride anytime—I may not always be able to come, but you can ask and I’ll do my best.”

Jimin nods.

They linger.

“Okay, well,” Yoongi licks his lips, “I’ll let you go in then.”

Jimin nods again.

“Good night,” he says.

“Good night,” Yoongi echoes.

*

Jimin is tipsy.

He’s not drunk or incapacitated, he’s tipsy.

Tipsy and ovulating and he has an idea.

“I’m gonna go home,” he tells Taehyung.

“I’ll come too then,” Taehyung says, immediately moving to slide off his stool at the bar.

“No no, it’s okay. I’ll call a taxi. Stay. I know you wanted to be here for trivia.”

“Are you sure?” Taehyung asks, frowning. “It’s not a big deal if you’re not feeling good. We can go.”

Jimin shakes his head.

“I’m fine,” he says. “I’m just tired.”

Taehyung frowns.

“Okay.”

He really wants to win trivia this week.

“Okay,” Jimin smiles, pulling Taehyung into a quick hug. “I’ll see you at home, okay?”

“Okay.”

Jimin smiles wider, grabbing his coat from the back of his stool and sliding it on over his shoulders. 

Taehyung still looks worried, but someone calls his name and he’s distracted so Jimin takes the opportunity to slip out the front door. He unlocks his phone and goes to his recent messages. He doesn’t have to scroll far to find Yoongi’s name. He debates whether to text or call for a moment, but he’s learned texting Yoongi is far less reliable than a phone call—he tends to get caught up in his work, leaving his phone to vibrate with texts helplessly for hours before it’s noticed by its owner.

He calls.

Yoongi picks up on the fifth ring, a quiet “Jimin?” into the receiver.

“Yoongi,” Jimin smiles at the sound of his voice. “Can you come pick me up?”

There’s a pause. It gets quieter on Yoongi’s end, some ambient noise disappearing.

“Yeah, where are you?”

“I’m outside Dixon’s.”

“The bar?”

“Yeah.”

Yoongi huffs.

“Wait inside—I’ll be there in twenty.”

Jimin hums softly. 

“Thank you,” he says.

He does not wait inside. He’s committed to the illusion of getting a taxi and he’s sticking with it, determined not to let on to Taehyung what he’s actually doing.

He waits impatiently, rocking side to side and blowing into his palms, trying his best to keep warm.

His phone vibrates.

<small>Almost there.</small>

Jimin smiles. 

The car pulls up and there are murmurs from people around. The window rolls down and Yoongi means across the center console to bade Jimin enter.

“C’mon, it’s fucking freezing,” he says.

Jimin smiles. He climbs into the car and immediately puts his seatbelt on, luxuriating in the warmth.

“Thank you,” he says.

Yoongi nods, checking his mirrors before pulling out into traffic.

“Am I taking you home?” he asks.

Jimin chews on his bottom lip.

“Depends on whose home you mean.”

Yoongi looks over at Jimin briefly, confused.

“What are you talking about?”

Jimin takes a deep breath.

“I think we should have sex.”

Yoongi chokes.

“What?”

Jimin sighs, turning his head to look at the side of Yoongi’s face.

“I want to try the natural way.”

“The natural way,” Yoongi mutters. “Are you drunk? We have an insemination appointment in two days.”

“No, I'm not drunk,” Jimin frowns, crossing his arms over his chest. “I’m tipsy. And ovulating. And I think you should knot me.”

Yoongi closes his eyes briefly, shifting in his seat.

“You can’t just say shit like that, Jimin.”

“Yoongi,” Jimin pleads. “I just want to give you a baby—it’s been almost seven months, I think it’s time to switch it up.”

“If this is about money—”

Jimin sucks in a sharp breath.

“I’m already being compensated for my time. You know this isn’t about money, Yoongi,” Jimin’s eyes begin to water. His voice cracks. “I’m sick and tired of failing you.”

“You’re not failing me,” Yoongi says quietly, firmly as he shifts gears. “These things take time.”

“How much time?”

“I don’t know,” Yoongi says. “It happens when it’s time.”

“You’re the one that wanted to try the natural way in the first place,” Jimin reminds him. “Why are you so against it now?”

“I’m not against it,” Yoongi grits. “I just don’t want you to do something you’re not comfortable with.”

“I’m perfectly comfortable,” Jimin says, arms crossed stubbornly over his chest.

“How long have you been thinking about this?” Yoongi asks.

“Since tonight,” Jimin admits after a long moment.

Yoongi sighs, pulling into Jimin’s apartment complex. He parks in front of Jimin’s building and crosses his arms against the steering wheel, looking over at Jimin.

“If you want to do it the “natural way” then we’ll have to wait for my rut.”

The word makes Jimin’s toes curl in his boots. He struggles to keep his scent from flaring, cheeks flushing hot. He swallows hard.

“Your rut,” he repeats. Yoongi nods, eyes sliding away from Jimin’s direct gaze. “When is it?”

Yoongi makes a thoughtful noise.

“Four weeks?” he says, shrugging. “Give or take.”

“Oh,” Jimin licks his lips. “I’ve never spent an alphas rut with them before.”

“No?”

“No.” 

Yoongi nods, resting his forehead on his crossed arms. He closes his eyes and sighs.

“If—in four weeks—you still want to do this the natural way, we’ll get things set up, okay?”

Jimin nods rapidly, leaning forward in his seat.

“For now though,” Yoongi sighs. “Go home, Jimin.”

“Okay,” Jimin says quietly. 

He slips out of the car and makes his way toward his apartment.

*

Four weeks is not very long, Jimin realizes. 

The days tick by rapidly and when he thinks about it his heartbeat kicks up, scent gone sweet and warm. He thinks about it a lot, reading forum posts about being an alpha’s rut partner, but too shy to ask questions himself. He’ll save them for Yoongi, he guesses.

Jimin checks himself out in the mirror, long taupe coat turning him into a flat line from the back, but he looks good from the front, put together. Like the kind of person who makes big decisions.

There are three days until Yoongi’s rut is predicted to start.

Jimin takes a deep breath, straightening his shoulders.

Yoongi’s coming to pick him up so they can have dinner and talk—they’ve talked only a little in the past four weeks, texting sporadically and never about Yoongi’s looming rut. It makes Jimin feel impatient, small. It’s not like they talked constantly before, but he’s afraid now that Yoongi is mad at him, unable to shake the feeling that he’s upset the alpha somehow in the process of kickstarting this.

Jimin sighs. He looks himself up and down again.

“You ready for your date?” Taehyung asks sardonically, leaned up against the jamb of Jimin’s open bedroom door.

Jimin startles, turning to face him with a hand over his heart.

“Don’t scare me like that!” he scolds, frowning. He rolls his eyes. “It’s not a date.”

“You look like it’s a date.”

“Well, it’s not. It's just… dinner.”

“Where are you guys going?”

Jimin sends Taehyung a sideways look.

“Yoongi’s place,” he admits begrudgingly. “He’s cooking.”

“But it’s not a date,” Taehyung says flatly.

“No.”

“Why all the fanfare, then? Like, why are you doing dinner at all?”

“We have… things to talk about.”

Taehyung’s eyes narrow.

“What kinds of things?”

Jimin dithers where he stands. He sighs and rolls his eyes.

“We’re going to spend Yoongi’s rut together,” he says, throwing the words out into the room.

Silence.

“Jimin…”

“Taehyung.”

Taehyung sighs.

“I just don’t want you getting hurt at the end of this.”

“I’m not going to!” Jimin protests. “Tae, it’s a perfectly normal part of surrogacy.”

“That’s not what I mean and you know it.”

“I don’t like him like that!” Jimin insists. He crosses his arms over his chest. “It’s purely professional.”

“Jimin. Babe. I’ve seen the way you kick your feet when he texts you.”

Jimin sputters, flushes.

“I don’t do that!”

He does.

Jimin turns away from Taehyung, gathering his phone and keys from his nightstand. He shoves them into a little black backpack along with his chapstick and charger.

“Jimin,” Taehyung calls quietly.

Jimin sighs. He turns.

“I just don’t want you to get hurt,” Taehyung repeats. “I’m worried you’re too invested; you cried over a diaper commercial yesterday.”

Jimin purses his lips.

He did.

“I just didn’t think it would be this difficult to get pregnant,” he says.

“It’s only been like six months—”

“Seven.”

“—sometimes it takes years.”

“I don’t want it to take years,” Jimin mutters, slinging the backpack over his shoulders. “Yoongi’s already waited long enough.”

Taehyung sighs.

“Just— please be careful.”

“You be careful.”

“Jimin.”

“Taehyung.”

“I’m serious.”

“So am I. There’s a spider crawling toward your hand.”

Taehyung jumps, letting out a little scream.

There is, indeed, a small spider making its way down the door jamb toward Taehyung. He smushes it with his thumb, other hand over his heart.

“You could’ve told me sooner,” he gripes, wiping his thumb off on his pants.

“I only just noticed,” Jimin frowns, pouting his lips. His phone vibrates and he checks it quickly. “I have to go.”

“Okay,” Taehyung’s frowning.

Jimin sighs. He smiles reassuringly. 

“Everything is going to be fine.”

*

Jimin sits at the breakfast bar in Yoongi’s house, watching him move around the sleek kitchen with practiced ease.

The house is exactly what Jimin expected and also nothing like he imagined. Full of dark woods and modern furniture, the living room is warm, cozy. There’s a big TV mounted on the wall and a large, dark grey sectional across from it. There’s a big wooden coffee table with books and magazines and lit candles, mellow enough that Yoongi’s deep bergamot scent shines through.

“I like your house,” Jimin says, looking around, taking in the built-in bookcases on either side of the television. He looks out the large windows that overlook a back patio, privacy fence a stone's throw away from the sliding glass doors. “I didn’t expect you to live in an actual house.”

Yoongi laughs quietly, almost drowned out by the sizzling of onions and garlic on the stove.

“What did you expect?” he asks.

Jimin shrugs.

“A bachelor pad.”

“A bachelor pad,” Yoongi repeats, amused.

Jimin watches his shoulders move when he chuckles, back muscles tensing under a thin black t-shirt as he lifts a bottle of red wine to deglaze the pan.

It reminds Jimin of his wine and reaches for the glass to take a sip, crisp and sweet.

“This is good wine.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Yoongi shoots Jimin a smile over his shoulder before turning his attention back to his risotto-in-progress.

“The food smells good too,” Jimin tells him.

Yoongi laughs again.

“The food has barely started.”

Jimin shrugs.

“Onions and garlic and wine are always a good start.”

“True,” Yoongi pours a cup of Arborio rice into the pot. 

“I guess I’ll be talking to your back for a while.” Jimin says, resting a cheek in his hand.

“Yeah, sorry,” Yoongi says, shrugging. He adds a cup of broth to the rice mixture and stirs. “Gotta babysit this a bit.”

“I know,” Jimin says, amused. “I’ve seen the chefs at work making it.”

“Ah, I see.”

There’s a companionable silence while Yoongi stirs.

“Do you like to cook?” Yoongi asks.

“Mm, yeah, but I don’t get the opportunity much.”

“Ah, well, do you wanna help me out here then?”

Jimin perks up.

“I can,” he says.

“There’s some asparagus and brussel sprouts in the fridge. Could you prep them for me?”

“Yep!” Jimin chirps, standing from his stool. He rounds the island and opens the fridge. It’s pretty empty save for some drinks and skincare.

“You don’t cook much either, huh?” he asks, amused.

Yoongi meets his amused look with a shrug.

“Not as much as I’d like,” he says. “I work a lot.”

“I’ve noticed.”

Yoongi sighs.

“Yeah, I’ve gotta learn to pull back.”

“Mm, especially if you plan on taking care of a newborn soon,” Jimin says, grabbing a mesh bag of brussel sprouts and a bundle of asparagus from the crisper.

“True,” Yoongi agrees. He sighs. “It’s difficult.”

“Don’t you have like. Underlings?” Jimin asks, setting the veggies in the sink. “People you can delegate too? Where’s the cutting board? A colander?”

“Uh,” there’s a pause in Yoongi’s stirring. “They’re in the small lower cabinet beside the sink.”

“And your delegates?” Jimin prompts.

“Don’t exist,” Yoongi says, clipped.

Jimin’s eyebrows go high. He reaches for a cutting board and colander.

“What do you even do?” he finally asks.

There’s a long stretch of silence.

Jimin places the colander in the sink and the cutting board on the counter and turns to Yoongi with a furrow in his brow, confused.

“Is that a no-no question?” he asked, one eyebrow arched. “Are you a secret government agent and you’ll have to kill me if you tell me?”

Yoongi huffs, shaking his head. He laughs a little.

“No, sorry, I just—” he stops, licking his lips. There’s another moment of silence. “I make music.”

Jimin straightens, curious.

“You make music?” he looks around at the house again. “You must be pretty successful.”

Yoongi laughs, a choked sound.

“You could say that.”

Jimin’s eyebrow stays piqued, a hand on his hip.

“Would I know anything?”

Yoongi rolls his shoulders, staring determinedly down into the pot of risotto.

“We Don’t Talk Together,” he says.

“You worked on that?!” Jimin asks, stepping closer. He cranes his head to see Yoongi’s face, eager. “What part? What did you do?”

A smile cracks Yoongi’s face. He shakes his head, eyes darting briefly to Jimin’s before gluing themselves back to the rice he’s stirring.

“Uh— I produced it.”

Jimin goes still.

“You—” he stops. He shakes his head. He hisses. “You produced it?!”

Yoongi’s smile blossoms. He laughs, nodding his head. 

“Yeah.”

“You’re SUGA?!” 

Jimin feels lightheaded.

Yoongi nods once, firm.

“Oh my god,” Jimin says, a little breathless. “How am I supposed to halve brussel sprouts under these conditions?”

Yoongi laughs, head thrown back. He continues stirring, adding another cup of broth to his risotto as soon as he’s calmed, chuckles still rumbling through his chest. 

His scent has bloomed in the kitchen, happy and warm.

“I think you’ll manage,” he says.

Jimin laughs, a little incredulous.

“Okay,” he shakes his head. He turns to his cutting board and reaches across the counter to grab a chef’s knife from the knife block by the sink. “Okay.”

He rinses the veggies and pats them dry before chopping, shaking his head occasionally when he remembers he’s standing next to SUGA, of all people.

“I’m having a baby for SUGA,” he mumbles under his breath, halving a brussel sprout and tossing it into the colander.

“Huh?”

“Nothing!” Jimin shakes his head.

Yoongi doesn’t press.

“You can’t tell anyone,” he says after a long moment.

“Oh.” Jimin straightens, resting the knife against the cutting board. “I hadn’t thought about that.”

Yoongi darts a look his way, pausing his stirring.

“I’m trusting you,” he says.

“Of course! Of course,” Jimin nods. “I completely understand.”

“Okay,” Yoongi nods. He adds more broth to the pot and begins stirring again. “That’s good.”

Jimin rolls his eyes. He starts chopping again.

“How much longer until we eat?” he asks.

Yoongi hums softly.

“Maybe twenty,” he says. He nods toward the stove. “Can you turn the oven on? 400.”

Jimin nods, setting the knife down and reaching to turn the knob.

“How do you want this stuff prepped?” he asks.

“Mm, a little salt, a little pepper, some oil,” Yoongi shrugs. 

“Boring,” Jimin frowns.

Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“It’s delicious.”

“Not even a little parm?” Jimin asks.

Yoongi huffs, smiling a little to himself.

“Fine. I might have some in the pantry.”

“The pantry?” Jimin asks. “You buy cheap sprinkle cheese?”

Yoongi nods. “Yes, I do.”

Jimin hums. He turns toward the pantry, pulling the double doors at the far end of the kitchen open. 

It's a walk-in.

“Of course it is,” Jimin mutters to himself, shaking his head.

The next twenty minutes pass quickly, easily, small-talk filling up the space between them.

Yoongi finishes his risotto and moves into steak while the veggies roast, dinner coming together quickly in the end.

“This smells amazing,” Jimin says, scooting his chair in at the small four-person kitchen table.

Yoongi smiles.

“Thanks for your help,” he says.

Jimin shakes his head.

“I barely did anything.”

“You did plenty,” Yoongi says. “The parmesan was a good call.”

“Thank you,” Jimin pretends to curtsey in his seat.

Yoongi shakes his head.

“Well, cut into it,” he says, gesturing with his knife. “How’d I do?”

Jimin rolls his eyes but obeys, cutting his steak in half and humming in appreciation.

“Medium-rare,” he says.

Yoongi does a dorky little first-pump and Jimin snorts.

“You’re such an alpha.”

“I mean… that’s just true,” Yoongi says, shrugging.

Jimin sighs.

“You’re annoying,” he says.

“But your steak is perfect,” Yoongi says.

Jimin rolls his eyes.

“And you’re annoying.”

“I can live with that.”

Jimin huffs, cutting a piece of steak and biting it off the fork with unnecessary aggression. He chews and swallows, washing it down with a sip of wine.

“So when are we gonna talk about your rut?” he asks.

Yoongi chokes. He wipes his mouth.

“Now, I guess?”

“Okay,” Jimin sets his silverware down. “What’s it like?”

“Uh,” Yoongi sets his own fork and knife down. “Horny?”

Jimin flushes.

“Obviously,” he huffs. “But, like, I don’t know. I’ve been reading forums—”

“Forums.”

“—and i'm not really nervous anymore—”

“That’s good.”

“—but I still don’t have any experience and I’m curious what it’s like for you, specifically.”

Yoongi shrugs. He sits back in his chair and crosses his arms over his chest.

“Well, I usually go through my ruts alone,” he says and Jimin is embarrassed how relieved he is, knows Yoongi can tell by the shift in his scent and the way his eyes slide away. “And they’re pretty quick—six days at most, usually less with suppressants.”

“Six is quick?” Jimin squeaks.

Yoongi shrugs.

“It was sometimes two—three weeks when I was younger.”

Jimin’s eyes go wide.

“That sounds miserable.”

Yoongi laughs, nodding.

“It was.”

“What about now?”

“It’s better now,” Yoongi says. He grimaces. “Less desperate. Being thirty-two and not a teenager has its perks—there’s breaks. I shower. I cook. I even change the sheets,” he laughs a little. “It’s a lot calmer an experience than it used to be, though I don’t know how spending it with an omega will affect that routine.”

“Do you think it will?”

“Of course,” Yoongi nods firmly. “Adding your scent, your pheromones—you—to the equation? It’s very different from locking myself in the house and masturbating for a week.”

Jimin swallows hard, shifting in his seat.

Don’t get wet.

“But you’re willing to try it?” Jimin clears his throat and asks.

Yoongi nods, drumming his fingers on the table.

“Yeah. If you’re comfortable with it, I’m down.”

“You’re down,” Jimin echoes. He laughs. “Okay. Cool.”

“Cool.”

*

Jimin blushes his way through calling out of work. 

It’s somehow worse telling his boss that he needs time off for his partner’s rut than it was the time he caught Jimin doing a pregnancy test in the bathroom during his break.

“Might as well be saying ‘sorry I can’t work next week, I’ll be busy getting railed,’” he mutters.

Somewhere behind him, Taehyung chokes.

“Dude.”

Jimin whips around, cheeks hot.

“It’s true!” he insists. He groans. “And my whole job is gonna know in like two minutes, because my boss is a gossip.”

Taehyung frowns.

“Isn’t that like. Classified information?” he asks.

“Classified?” Jimin repeats, eyebrow arched. “It’s not the CIA, Tae. It’s a mediocre Italian restaurant.”

“You know what I mean.”

Jimin shrugs.

“It’s not like HIPAA or anything. I don’t think they can get in trouble.”

“They should,” Taehyung frowns. “Or, at least, your boss should keep his mouth shut.”

Jimin shrugs.

“It’s not a big deal, I guess. Not really. Everyone knew I was getting inseminated and shit. What’s a rut?”

“Hm.”

Jimin sighs.

“I gotta finish packing,” he checks the time on his phone. “Yoongi should be here in twenty.”

“Should I go?” Taehyung asks.

“Go?”

“If he’s close to his rut I don’t wanna risk a confrontation.”

Jimin rolls his eyes.

“Yoongi’s not like that.”

Taehyung snorts.

“An alpha’s an alpha,” he says. “And I’m an alpha and I don’t wanna risk things getting aggressive ‘cause I stood too close to you or something.”

Jimin shakes his head.

“I don’t think you need to,” he says. “Yoongi will probably stay in the car.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah,” Jimin nods. “Hell, I’ll text him and tell him not to come up.”

“Okay,” Taehyung nods, hands in his pockets. “That works.”

He lingers in Jimin’s room.

“What is it?” Jimin asks, shoving folded shirts into a duffel bag. 

Taehyung sighs.

“You know my thoughts,” he says.

“I do,” Jimin agrees.

Taehyung sighs again.

“I just worry.”

“I know you do,” Jimin smiles a little, shaking his head. “But everything is fine.”

“Everything is fine,” Taehyung echoes. “Okay.”

It’s not sarcastic.

“Okay?” Jimin looks away from his packing to eye Taehyung. “No more protests?”

Taehyung shrugs.

“You’re a grown up.”

“I am,” Jimin agrees, amused.

Taehyung shrugs again.

“That’s all.”

Jimin laughs.

“Okay. Thank you.”

Taehyung nods his head.

“I’m gonna go play video games now,” he says. “I’ll see you in a week.”

“See you in a week,” Jimin smiles. “Love you.”

“I love you too,” Taehyung says. He smiles, giving a little wave before walking down the hall to his room.

Jimin shakes his head, smiling.

He goes back to packing.

*

Yoongi’s drumming his fingers on the steering wheel when Jimin climbs into the car, but he goes tense as soon as Jimin’s scent hits him, nostrils flaring. His grip on the steering wheel goes tight, knuckles white.

Fuck.

“Yoongi?”

Yoongi shakes himself, blinking.

“Sorry,” he says, sheepish. He looks over at Jimin. “I can smell Taehyung on you.”

“Oh,” Jimin blinks. “Sorry, I should’ve showered.”

Yoongi shakes his head. 

“It’s not a big deal,” he says. “You’ll smell like me soon enough.”

Jimin’s eyes go wide, cheeks blushing a pretty pink.

Yoongi swallows hard, turning away from him.

He hadn’t meant to say that out loud.

“Sorry,” he says.

Jimin shakes his head.

“It’s okay. It’s true.”

Yoongi closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, but it’s counterproductive. Jimin smells warm and sweet and strong. Yoongi can practically taste orange blossom on his tongue. 

He’s hard in his jeans.

He smacks a hand against the steering wheel once, hard.

“Okay,” he says. “We should go.”

Jimin nods, reaching for his seatbelt.

Yoongi starts the car and pulls out of the spot. He tries taking deep breaths as he drives, but Jimin’s scent has grown musky, wet. He’s probably reacting to Yoongi’s own strong pre-rut scent.

“You okay?” Yoongi asks him, darting a glance Jimin’s way.

Jimin nods, legs crossed in his seat.

“I’m good!” he squeaks, cheeks red.

“Hey,” Yoongi calls softly, looking at Jimin while they wait at a red light. He rests his hand on Jimin’s thigh. “Don’t be embarrassed. It’s natural.”

Jimin whines, squeezing his eyes shut tight.

“Don’t talk about it,” he says, covering his face with his hands. “At least wait until we’re in the bedroom.”

Yoongi laughs quietly, giving Jimin’s thigh a light squeeze. He moves his hand back to the stick shift and puts the car in drive, pressing the gas pedal as the light turns green.

They’re quiet for the rest of the drive, navigating the quiet streets with the radio playing quietly. They pull into Yoongi’s driveway and make their way, one by one, into Yoongi’s home.

They stand in the foyer, looking at each other.

“Well.”

“Well.”

Yoongi licks his lips.

“Can I kiss you?” he asks.

Jimin lets his duffel bag fall to the floor by his feet.

“Yes.”

Yoongi frames Jimin’s face between both hands and pulls him in, pressing their lips together firmly.

Jimin kisses him back, wrapping his small hands around Yoongi’s wrists. 

Yoongi walks them backward until Jimin’s back hits the door, opening his mouth to deepen the kiss. He sucks Jimin’s bottom lip into his mouth and lets it go with a pop, slipping his tongue into Jimin’s mouth.

Jimin moans softly, meeting Yoongi’s tongue with his own, stroking against each other, hot and wet. Yoongi’s cock twitches and he breathes out sharply through his nose, stepping closer. He turns Jimin’s head to the side, then slides his hands down to Jimin’s neck, thumbs on Jimin’s jaw. Jimin’s hands move to Yoongi’s shoulders, sliding around to warp around his neck.

Yoongi sucks Jimin’s tongue into his mouth and grinds their hips together, groaning at the friction on his hard cock. He pulls back to suck in a deep breath before diving back in, barely giving Jimin time to catch his own before their lips meet again, hips flush together. 

Yoongi can smell Jimin’s wet cunt, the scent growing stronger the longer they kiss. 

He groans into Jimin’s mouth, reaching down to cup the front of Jimin’s pants, fingers curling between his thighs to the damp denim between Jimin’s legs.

Jimin gasps, pulling out of the kiss, head thrown back against the door. His arms tighten around Yoongi’s neck.

“Yoongi,” Jimin parts his feet, taking a step wider.

Yoongi doesn’t respond, rubbing Jimin through his jeans. He latches his mouth onto the length of Jimin’s neck, sucking a hickey into the soft skin. He bites down and Jimin gasps, going tense. 

It leaves a perfect impression of Yoongi’s teeth behind.

Yoongi rumbles low in his chest, laving over the bite with his tongue. He slips his second hand into the back of Jimin’s pants, bypassing his underwear to cup his bare asscheek and knead.

Jimin mewls, eyes closed, breathing fast.

Yoongi pulls his fingers from Jimin’s pussy and brings them up to his nose, taking a deep breath. He licks them, sticks them into his mouth and sucks until the taste of orange blossom disappears from his mouth.

“Fuck.” he growls, squeezing Jimin’s ass. He puts his forehead to Jimin’s shoulder. “Fuck.”

He rolls his hips into Jimin, using his grip on Jimin’s ass to rub them together.

“Can I fuck you?” he asks, eyes closed, breathing ragged.

“Please.”

Yoongi pulls his hand out of Jimin’s pants and turns him around by his hips, pushing him up against the door. He grinds his hard cock against the cleft of Jimins ass, panting against the back of Jimin’s neck.

“You smell so fucking good,” he groans, taking a step back to undo the button on his jeans. “You’re gonna feel so good around my cock.”

Jimin whimpers. He takes a step away from the door and arches his back, presenting himself.

Yoongi rumbles and unzips his pants, pulling his cock out of his jeans. He can see the wide circle of damp at the apex of Jimin’s pants. He reaches out a hand and presses his thumb to the center of it, closing his eyes at the heat emanating from Jimin’s soaking wet pussy.

Jimin wiggles his hips and Yoongi sucks in a deep breath. He steps up flush to Jimin’s ass and wraps his arms around, reaching for the fly of Jimin’s jeans. He undoes the button and lowers the zipper, tugging the pants down, down, down to Jimin’s knees. He doesn’t bother pushing down Jimin’s underwear, tucking two fingers under the flimsy crotch of them, knuckles immediately wet. He pulls them to the side and uses his other hand to guide the head of his cock to Jimin’s hot, wet cunt, sliding inside easily, without hesitation. 

Jimin whimpers and moans, fingers curling under and scratching the dark wood of the door. 

Yoongi pauses, throwing his head back with a moan, eyes closed. He pulls out slowly and slams back in, hitting Jimin’s cervix with a bruising force. He has his hands on Jimin’s hips, eyes glued to the place where his cock disappears inside Jimin’s cunt, fucking him hard and fast in the entryway.

He comes without knotting, leaving Jimin dripping semen down his inner thigh, head hanging between his shoulders as he pants with his hands still braced against the front door.

“Oh my god,” Jimin gasps, breathless. “Oh my god.”

“You okay?” Yoongi asks, hand on Jimin’s back. His soft cock is hanging out of his pants.

Jimin nods, waving Yoongi off.

“I’m good,” he pants, putting his hand back on the door. “Oh my god.”

“Sorry,” Yoongi says, rubbing the back of his neck. He tucks himself back into his pants.

“It’s okay,” Jimin says, straightening. He shimmies his pants down his legs and kicks them off, leaving him standing in his underwear. He turns to face Yoongi, cheeks a mottled red. “But I get to come too next time.”

*

It’s been four days and his labia chafe when he walks. Tender and sore, Jimin makes Yoongi bring him breakfast in bed each morning. 

Yoongi does so without complaint, fucking Jimin awake before rolling out of bed to cook them something.

Sometimes Jimin wakes up in the night and Yoongi’s inside him, hips rocking gently into Jimin where they’re spooned together.

“How often do you fuck me while I’m sleeping?” he asks, curious, a spoonful of yogurt halfway to his mouth.

Yoongi shrugs.

“Three or four times.”

“Every night?!” Jimin asks, incredulous. He nearly drops his spoon.

Yoongi shrugs again, mouth full of ripe berries.

“Damn,” Jimin looks down into his parfait. He blinks. “That’s impressive.”

Yoongi snorts.

“That’s rut.”

Jimin hums.

“I knew it was a lot, but I still underestimated things I guess.”

“How are you feeling?” Yoongi asks, sitting cross-legged and nude in the bed, sheet covering his lower half.

“Sore,” Jimin answers honestly. Yoongi frowns. “But good!” Jimin ducks his head. “I’m good.”

“That’s good,” Yoongi murmurs. “Two days left.”

“Two days,” Jimin repeats. He shakes his head. “You’re gonna have to carry me home.”

“Can do,” Yoongi says.

Jimin laughs. He takes another bite of parfait. He wonders how many bite-shaped bruises are on his neck. He’s lost count of how many times Yoongi’s bitten him and he hasn’t seen himself in the mirror in a while.

“How bruised am I?” he asks.

Yoongi grimaces, guilty.

“You’re pretty purple,” he says.

Jimin looks down at himself. He nods.

“Yeah, I guess I could’ve extrapolated.”

“I don’t know,” Yoongi shifts. “Your neck is, uh, particularly mottled.”

Jimin sets his parfait aside on the nightstand to his right, standing from the bed without caring that he’s naked. He makes his way to the en-suite bathroom and flicks the light on, really taking in his reflection for the first time in a few days.

“Oh wow,” he breathes, turning his head to one side then the other, craning his neck. “Oh damn.”

He reaches up and presses two fingers to the tender skin, wincing lightly. It doesn’t feel so good when his body isn’t flushed with lust. He leans over the bathroom counter to get a closer look and identifies multiple sets of very clear bite marks on his neck and shoulders.

“Wow,” he blinks, swallowing hard. He licks his lips, wondering what those teeth marks would look like scarred into his skin. 

He shakes the thought away as quickly as it comes, cheeks flushing.

“You alright?” Yoongi calls from the bed.

“I’m good!” Jimin yells back, swallowing hard. He looks himself in the eye in the mirror and says again, more quietly, “I’m good.”

He bounds back into the bedroom, bouncing onto the bed with a smile. Yoongi smiles back, his own parfait now set aside.

“Are you done?” Yoongi asks, nodding toward Jimin’s dish.

Jimin nods his head.

“Yeah,” he sighs, laying down on his side.

“Do you want to cuddle before round two?” Yoongi asks.

“Hmm,” Jimin pretends to think. “Yes.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes, but shifts to lay down, scooting toward Jimin. He reaches out and puts a hand on Jimin’s waist, pulling him in. Jimin smiles, hiding his face in Yoongi’s neck. He likes how Yoongi feels holding him, their mingled scents filling the room.

I love you. 

Jimin’s eyes go wide, grateful Yoongi can’t see his face. He burrows closer like the warmth of Yoongi’s skin can banish the thought from his mind, swallowing hard with tears burning at the backs of his eyes.

Taehyung was right.

*

Day six starts at two in the morning, Yoongi kissing Jimin’s shoulder until he stirs before rolling him onto his back with a warm hand, slipping between Jimin’s legs familiar and easy.

Jimin moans, breathy and high, body rocking back with every thrust of Yoongi’s cock inside him. He’s littered with bruises, aching and weak. He rests his hands on Yoongi’s shoulders, no longer having the strength to scratch and cling. He keeps his eyes closed, body lax. Yoongi’s pelvis rubs his raw clit and he whimpers, toes flexing lightly. He hadn’t been aware that this kind of pain could feel good before Yoongi wrung him out and kept going.

Jimin sighs softly, sliding his arms up to wrap them around Yoongi’s neck. He’s already come twice since Yoongi slipped inside, waiting patiently now for Yoongi to finish.

“I’m sleepy,” he mumbles. A yawn cracks his jaw, turning into a pained little moan halfway through; Yoongi’s teeth on his collarbone.

Yoongi noses at Jimin’s neck, scenting him and rumbling. His pace is steady, nearly mechanical. He doesn’t seem close or like he’s trying very hard to be at all.

“Yoongi…” Jimin whispers, fingers in Yoongi’s hair.

Yoongi shakes his head against Jimin’s skin, mouthing at his throat.

Jimin laughs quietly, body still rocking steadily.

He closes his eyes.

He opens them again and they’re knotted together, Yoongi’s hard cock pulsing inside him, filling him with seed. He sighs happily at the feeling, arms loose at his sides.

Yoongi is snoring lightly on top of him, breathing hot and damp against the underside of Jimin’s jaw. Jimin smiles a little, bringing a hand up to pet Yoongi’s hair. 

“It’s over,” Yoongi mumbles, clinging.

“Oh,” Jimin blinks. “Thank god.”

Yoongi laughs quietly, body shaking with it.

“Yeah,” he sighs. “The urgency is all gone.”

“Well, that’s good,” Jimin murmurs, fingers carding through Yoongi’s sweaty hair. “Maybe we’ve made something now.”

A gust of breath leaves Yoongi’s mouth, making Jimin shiver.

“Maybe,” he says. “Hopefully.”

“Hopefully,” Jimin agrees, looking up at the ceiling. He doesn’t know what he’ll do with himself if they haven’t.

“Time is it?” Yoongi mumbles.

Jimin turns his head to the side and reaches for his phone where it lays on the nightstand, squinting against the bright light.

“3:02,” Jimin sets his phone back and closes his eyes.

“Mm, I can’t decide if I want to shower or sleep first when this knot goes down,” Yoongi says.

Jimin nods without looking.

“Shower,” he mumbles.

Yoongi laughs.

“You saying I stink?” 

Jimin shakes his head.

“No, I mean me shower. I dunno what you’re gonna do.”

Yoongi laughs again, leaning up to press a kiss to Jimin’s lips.

Jimin guesses it’s allowed because they’re still locked together. He kisses back.

Yoongi groans, rocking into Jimin. He shakes his head, pulling back with his lip between his teeth.

“Don’t get me started again,” he says.

Jimin laughs.

“You kissed me.”

Yoongi groans again.

“I know,” he rocks his hips, knot moving minutely inside Jimin. His eyes are closed, forearms braced on either side of Jimin’s rib cage. “Fuck.”

Jimin whimpers. “Yoongi.”

Yoongi shakes his head. He thrusts, fucking Jimin with his knot, face creased up in pleasure-pain.

Jimin gasps, legs spread, Yoongi’s knot tugging him from the inside out. Jimin whimpers, mewling. 

“Yoongi,” he says again.

“Sorry,” Yoongi groans with a shake of his head. He fucks Jimin harder.

Jimin moans, throwing his head back against the pillows.

“It’s okay,” he breathes, eyes closed. He catches his lower lip between his teeth and holds it, whimpering quietly with every thrust. “Feels good.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jimin breathes the word, reaching up to wrap his arms around Yoongi’s neck. “What happens when you come while already knotted?”

Yoongi groans, grinding into Jimin.

“Knot lasts longer,” he gasps, pulling back until his knot stretches the entrance of Jimin’s cunt.

Jimin whines at the burn of it, gasping when Yoongi thrusts back in, cock slamming into Jimin’s bruised cervix. Jimin comes quickly, orgasm shaking through him and leaving him over sensitive and trembling. 

Yoongi follows quickly behind, semen once again pulsing out of his cock, filling Jimin up with cum until there’s a little curve to his lower stomach and it leaks out around Yoongi’s knot.

Yoongi flops down on top of Jimin, panting and exhausted.

“Okay,” he says, eyes closed. “Now I’m finished.”

Jimin laughs, breathless.

*

Sitting in the dining chair is uncomfortable but Jimin doesn’t say anything, shifting minutely in his seat while Yoongi’s back is turned. It’s been a long, quiet morning. They’d taken turns showering around eleven and now Yoongi is making breakfast, three pans going at once as he stirs a berry compote and flips a crepe, eggs frying quietly on a back burner. 

Jimin watches his bare back move, shoulder muscles shifting under Yoongi’s skin criss-crossed with scratches where Jimin’s fingernails bit into the skin leaving red welts behind.

“Smells so good,” Jimin says.

Yoongi smiles at him over his shoulder then turns back to the stove.

“Hopefully it’ll help you gain back some strength,” he says.

“Oh god,” Jimin groans. “I have to work tomorrow.”

Yoongi turns around with wide eyes blinking.

“What? Why?”

“I only asked for a week off,” Jimin whines.

Yoongi shakes his head.

“You’re gonna have to call them,” he says. 

“I can’t just call them,” Jimin frowns.

“I’m serious,” Yoongi says. “If you explain the situation they’ll understand—you need at least three days post-rut to reach equilibrium, otherwise you are going to lose it when you leave this house.”

Jimin rolls his eyes.

“What does that even mean?”

“It means both hormonally and emotionally your body thinks we just mated. I bred you. And if you leave before you come down from it, your body will go into crisis mode thinking your alpha just rejected you and a rejected omega—“

“—has a high chance of rejecting any potential embryo too.” Jimin swallows hard, a sick feeling in his gut. “I know. I hadn’t thought about that.”

Yoongi frowns.

“Sorry, I just—”

“I know,” Jimin smiles reassuringly. “It’s okay; I’ll call.”

“Thank you.”

“Thank you. I’m not really interested in going through rejection,” Jimin means that both ways, but he doesn’t expect Yoongi to know that. “I’ll call after we eat.”

Yoongi nods firmly and turns back to his cooking.

Jimin swallows a sigh.

*

“My god, you look like he tried to eat you,” are the first words Taehyung says when Jimin lets himself into their apartment three days later.

Jimin rolls his eyes.

“It kinda feels like he did,” he says. The aching has faded some, but his body is still tender. “I knew ruts were intense, but that was really intense.”

“Well, you sound good,” Taehyung says, turning to follow Jimin’s movement through the apartment, bag in hand. “You know I thought you’d come home crying.”

Jimin goes still. He swallows hard and shakes his head.

“Don’t push it,” he says.

Taehyung frowns, straightening where he sits.

“Wait, what happened?”

“Nothing,” Jimin snaps, short. He licks his lips. “I just—” he shakes his head, sudden tears burning at his lashes. “Dammit.”

He wipes at his cheeks and Taehyung stands, rounding the couch as Jimin lets his bag drop to the floor.

“He’s so sweet,” Jimin cries, wiping at his eyes. “And attentive and warm and we were laying there cuddling between rounds and I just— he just— I love him.”

Taehyung makes a wounded noise, pulling Jimin in.

“I’m sorry,” he says, tucking Jimin under his chin. He does his best to drown Yoongi’s warm scent out with his own woody vetiver. “I’m sorry, Jimin.”

Jimin sniffs, nose pressed to Taehyung’s collarbone.

“Aren’t you gonna say I told you so?” he asks.

Taehyung shakes his head.

“No,” he sighs, squeezing Jimin tight. “I didn’t want to be right.”

Jimin sniffles, eyes squeezed shut tight. He clings to Taehyung’s front.

“I’m so stupid,” he whispers. “I should’ve listened to you.”

Taehyung rubs his back.

“You’re not stupid. You’re very brave and kind and you have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met.”

Jimin cries harder and Taehyung holds him tight.

*

“Drink?” Taehyung offers from the kitchen. 

Jimin rolls his eyes.

“I can’t,” he gripes, arms crossed over his chest. He’s sitting on the sofa. He sighs. “But you can bring me some water.”

Taehyung nods, reaching into a cupboard for a glass and dispensing some water from the filter in the fridge. He brings it to Jimin, beer in his other hand for himself.

“So, what now?” Taehyung asks.

Jimin shrugs.

“I need to build some distance in, I guess. Stop being so—so accommodating. Vulnerable.”

“Vulnerable,” Taehyung echoes. There’s a moment of quiet. “I think the problem is that you work very well together.”

Jimin’s eyes crease, immediately blurring.

“Don’t say that.”

Taehyung sighs.

“Sorry. I’m just saying—”

“Well don’t.”

“—it sounded like you guys have a lot of chemistry.”

Jimin shakes his head.

“Yeah, from my point of view,” he sighs. “I’m an unreliable narrator at best.”

Taehyung frowns. He pets Jimin’s hair.

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

“It’s okay,” Jimin murmurs. “I just have to be more professional. Distant.” Jimin squeezes his eyes shut. He sighs. “I wish we’d met differently.”

“Me and you?”

Jimin swats Taehyung on the chest, rolling his eyes.

“Me and Yoongi, obviously.”

Taehyung smiles a little. “I know.”

Jimin huffs. He steps on Taehyung’s foot.

Taehyung doesn’t flinch.

“You’re so—”

“Annoying?”

“Yes.”

*

Yoongi has been locked in the studio for three days, burying himself in work. His phone is in his pocket at all times, sound turned up as high as it will go in case Jimin calls him.

Jimin has been strange the past three weeks, distant. He hasn’t texted Yoongi about his day or called him for a ride or to talk about the new annoying thing Taehyung has done or work or—

Jimin hasn’t been talking to him like he usually does, responding shortly to Yoongi’s check-in texts and keeping things purely professional otherwise.

Yoongi doesn’t know how to ask what he did to fuck things up.

He sits back in his computer chair with a sigh and digs his phone out of his back pocket, checking it for the millionth time.

He sighs. He sets it on his desk and turns his attention back to his computer, pulling his headphones on over his ears. Almost immediately, his phone begins to ring. He rips the headphones off and snatches his phone up off the desk without checking the caller ID.

“Hello?”

“Alpha Min,” there’s a smile in the person’s voice. “This is Hyuna from the clinic.”

“Oh, hello, how are you?”

“I’m doing well, Alpha Min, thank you. I’m actually calling with an update on your case.”

“Is something wrong?”

“Not at all! We actually have happy news for you today.”

Yoongi blinks. 

“Oh, well, what is it?”

Hyuna laughs.

“Your surrogate, Jimin. We spoke this afternoon and he’s let us know he took a positive pregnancy test this morning! He’ll be coming in later this week for us to confirm with bloodwork, but it sounds like you’re well on your way to holding your baby in your arms.”

The blood drains from Yoongi’s face. He fumbles his phone and has to shake himself. He clears his throat.

“Oh— uh, thank you. Wow. That’s—” there are tears in Yoongi’s eyes. “That’s amazing.”

They exchange pleasantries and goodbyes and Yoongi sets his phone down. He sits for a long moment, drumming his fingers against the desktop. 

He stands.

He snatches his keys and wallet from the coffee table behind him in his office and heads out the door, taking the stairs two at a time down to the parking garage level. He leaves the music off as he drives, navigating familiar roads to Jimin’s apartment. He parks in his usual spot in the apartment complex and makes his way steadily up the stairs.

He knocks on Jimin’s door.

Jimin pulls it open with his face turned away, talking to someone inside.

Seeing him is a punch to the gut.

Jimin is rolling his eyes as he turns toward Yoongi, mouth fixed to say “Hello.” but he’s stymied by Yoongi’s presence, face gone white as a sheet.

“Yoongi,” he breathes, eyes darting back and forth over Yoongi’s face. “Hi.”

“The clinic called me,” Yoongi says and Jimin blushes, head down.

“Oh,” he curls his fingers together. “So, you heard.”

“I did.”

“Congratulations,” Jimin’s smile is forced, hands held out to his sides, palms forward, fingers splayed, celebrating.

“Jimin—”

“You didn’t have to come all this way though. It’s just a pregnancy test—too early to get excited, really.”

“Jimin—”

“We were actually just about to go out,” Jimin says, standing in pajamas, slippers on, face clean of makeup.

Yoongi closes his eyes.

“What did I do?” he asks. “Why are you acting like this?”

“Like what?” Jimin blinks.

And blinks.

And blinks.

A tear runs down his cheek and Jimin sniffles, wiping it hastily away.

Yoongi frowns.

“Jimin, baby, talk to me.”

“Don’t call me that!” Jimin snaps, wiping at his cheeks. The tears are coming steadily now. “Fuck. You— you can’t call me that.”

“I’m sorry,” Yoongi whispers. His fingers itch to dry Jimin’s tears. “I—” he shakes his head. “I can’t say I didn’t mean it.”

Jimin’s eyes go wide. He looks up slowly.

“What?” his voice is quiet, small.

Yoongi clears his throat.

“I can’t say I didn’t mean it,” he repeats.

“Mean what?” Jimin asks. He slowly lowers his hands from his face, no longer crying, but his eyes are red-rimmed, face swollen.

Yoongi swallows hard.

“I— I care about you, Jimin.”

“You care about me?” Jimin asks. He shakes his head, looking away. “Of course you do, Yoongi. I’m giving you a baby.”

Yoongi shakes his head.

“Jimin,” he waits for Jimin to meet his gaze. He braces himself. “I love you.”

*

“I love you.”

The words ring in Jimin’s ears.

“No you don’t,” Jimin says, shaking his head. He takes a step back. “You’re just saying that ‘cause I’m having your baby.”

“No,” Yoongi shakes his head before looking Jimin straight in the eye. “I’m not.”

Jimin swallows hard.

“You’re just saying that,” he whispers.

“Jimin.” 

“Yoongi, please,” Jimin pleads. “Just go home.”

Yoongi shakes his head.

“No, not until you listen to me.”

“You haven’t said anything.”

“I said I love you,” Yoongi repeats, forceful. He takes a step closer. “And I meant it.”

Jimin shakes his head, eyes blurring with tears. He gasps a breath and sobs.

“This is weirdly threatening,” Taehyung says from behind him and Jimin’s never been so relieved to hear his voice.

“Please tell him to go home, Tae,” Jimin says, voice wobbling.

Taehyung frowns at Jimin then turns to frown at Yoongi. He scratches behind his ear.

“Come in,” he says.

Jimin turns to him wide-eyed, betrayed.

“Tae,” he hisses.

Taehyung looks vaguely guilty, but he stands firm.

“You guys need to talk.”

“There’s nothing to talk about!”

“I’ve said what I need to say,” Yoongi agrees.

Jimin turns back to him, hand fisted in front of his chest.

“You did?”

Yoongi nods, staring Jimin in the eyes.

“Now I just need to know what you say.”

Jimin swallows hard. He looks away.

“Jimin…” Yoongi murmurs. “If you don’t feel the same way just say so and I’ll go.”

Jimin licks his lips, eyelashes filling with tears.

“I—” he hiccups a sob, head down. He whispers. “I don’t love you.”

Taehyung snorts.

Jimin whips around to glare.

“Go away, traitor.”

Taehyung puts his hands up in surrender and walks back into the house. 

Jimin crosses his arms over his chest, holding himself tight.

“How do you know you love me and it’s not just baby fever?” he asks, head down.

“Jimin,” Yoongi starts softly. “How do I know? Because you haven’t been texting me at all these past weeks and I’ve been miserable with missing you. Because you're smart and funny and passionate and brave. Because the day we met I thought you were the sweetest, most beautiful creature I’d ever seen. Because I knew I loved you before that phone call and it broke my heart to think of doing it all alone,” Yoongi takes a deep breath. He straightens. “I don’t want to raise this baby without you.”

“You mean it?” Jimin asks. He wipes tears from his cheeks. “You have to mean it, Yoongi.”

“I mean it,” Yoongi steps closer and Jimin lets himself be wrapped up in a hug. “I mean it. I love you.”

Jimin whimpers, clinging to Yoongi’s shirt.

“I love you too,” he whispers.

Yoongi holds him closer, squeezing him tight.

“Awesome,” Taehyung breaks in. “Now can you close the door? You’re letting the cold in.”

[the-djarin-clan]

Hades and Persephone

version Yoonmin

[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.

[berryberrytaeberry]

Is it weird to post a snippet of my WIP fic on Tumblr? I still don't know how this website works.

Mildly NSFW and rpf below, if you are not into that 💜

Yoongi picks at his nails through the empty fingertips of his black gloves. It’s too cold to walk to Jimin’s garage–nestled just a couple of shops over and behind Namjoon’s store, according to the surprisingly easy response he’d gotten from Taehyung–so Yoongi lets his driver drop him off.

Jimin was always just one street over. How did we never cross paths until now? We were so close…  The car hovers at a red light, and Yoongi wills the colors to change quicker. God, the back of his driver’s car is still stupid cold. His leg bounces mindlessly, his knee dusted a raw pink, visible through the ripped black denim. The fashion choice is as poor as the incomplete gloves for the below-freezing temperatures. Hoseok would nag him for his obvious lack of taste; Yoongi would ignore him, as usual, and focus on the more pressing issue that the fingerless gloves fail to curb his nervous habits. But it’s not really nerves anymore, is it? It’s the memory of it all. The promise of more. The pink-haired racer is seared into his ice-cold skin. He can still feel those trembling wrists, the hard muscle beneath the soft dip of the boy’s lower back. Yoongi flexes his hand outward to release the tension. How can he, shrouded in a black puffer thick enough to climb Everest, feel so bare? Feel so cold? Feel so much want for the warmth of this morning? The wait is insatiable.  He steps out the back seat of the stopped car, and with a puff of white air, walks the rest of the way. 

[celokjin]

the best dynamic, according to min yoongi by dragonyoongi

[d0lly5]

July 2023 - BTS Fic Recs - Yoongi/Jimin

** Favourite

in your eyes (it's where i wanna be) by bonnia Word count: 5,562 Summary: Jimin accidentally starts a nickname war with the cute blonde who likes his coffee way too bitter. (Coffee Shop AU)

The Pink Envelope by zoeeemin Word Count: 12,016 Summary: When Jimin is sending love letters to his crush via locker but fails because it is Yoongi's locker. (Highschool AU)

**The Songbird and the Sea by maia_archives Word Count: 255,878 Summary: In a world where the dominance of the sea is an endless battle between pirates and mariners, Park Jimin is content living in his little village on a small, uninteresting island by the eastern mainland. But when his island is attacked by pirates, Jimin will have no other choice than to do as they command and leave all thoughts of peace behind in favour of boarding the Agust, a pirate ship captained by the infamous Min Yoongi, Black Fox of the East. (A Pirate/Magic AU) If you take anything from this list - read this one. It's ART and the second most liked yoonmin fic for a reason.

I just want to be your fantasy, and maybe you could be mine by Imperatritsa Word Count: 55,723 Summary: Jimin was a sex worker who received from one of his clients the proposition of a lifetime. (Pretty Woman AU)

**The Red Light Sector (All Dressed-Up) by laykive (littleheichou) Word Count: 186,559 Summary: Yoongi’s been through robberies, kidnappings, murders, torture, set-ups and betrayals without feeling a thing. Not even in his worst nightmares had he ever expected to be finally broken down, so swiftly, by a stunning boy with a hot silver tongue and diamond smile. Yoongi’s dangerous, but Park Jimin is fatal. (Gangster AU)

Only breathing by Sharleena Word Count: 26,461 Summary: Gangster AU where drug lord yoongi breaks the unspoken rule: you don't fall in love with a customer's whore. (No one writes gangster au's like Sharleena, I recommend all her work).

**light side of the moon by themelonlord Word Count: 80,883 Summary: Jimin's always been an outsider, content to do his own thing. Moving in to a new high school, a new town, he's resigned to do the same. It's not until an excitable Kim Taehyung enters the picture that his future starts to change - a.k.a. jimin just wants to graduate but he's taken in by six weirdos that make him all too happy to enjoy life as it comes. (Wolf AU/Highschool AU)

**Conflicting Arrangement by PrettyBoyKiller Word Count: 162,552 Summary: A College AU where namjoon sets yoongi up to be Jimin's pretend boyfriend so Jimin can come out to his family at Chuseok. (Fake boyfriend AU, Yoongi STRUGGLES in this)

**spring day by Bangtanbananas Word Count: 70,901 Summary: Even when he was a pup, Park Jimin never even dreamed that he would find his soulmate. Thoughts like that were better left to his hopelessly romantic best friend and partner in crime, Kim Taehyung. It's a one in a million chance, but a twist of fate brings a strange wolf into Jimin's life and it changes things forever. (ABO AU - don't judge I love me a good abo fic and this is beautifully written)

Kiss It Better by mintsoda Word Count: 9,545 Summary: When Jimin goes into his first heat, Yoongi and Jeongguk are there to help. (ABO Smut galore)

Helpless by spookyjkk (Untested_Waters) Word Count: 11,910 Summary: Yoongi goes into his rut and Jimin helps him through it for the first time. (aka they have gross, messy sex non-stop for a few days) (More ABO filth I am so sorry)

[queermyg]

let them be them, let us be us | yoonmin

“Oh- Jiminie,” Yoongi whispers softly, eyes wide open as he looks at what’s inside the box, “Is it-”

“It’s a promise!” he cuts, nervous, “um, it’s not- I’m not-” he takes a deep breath, “I know we can’t, yet, but I wanted to have something to symbolize that we are together, that you’re the love of my life and something to remind you of me,” he finishes with a shaky smile.

or in which Jimin starts working at a new school as a kindergarten teacher, receiving some inappropriate comments about his relationship; he's sad and Yoongi tries to cheer him up the best way he knows how to.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/55398703

moodboard cr to: my bestie

[hazelmoonchild]

missing home (missing you) | ch 2 (x)

Jimin is bouncing his leg as he nibbles on his thumb, lost in thought. His phone keeps vibrating in his pocket, and he can’t ignore it anymore. Annoyed by the sensation, Jimin grabs it with a click of his tongue.

It’s Yoongi. This is like his third call. Feeling bitter, Jimin puts his phone on silent and shoves it back into his pocket.

Yes, he’s jealous. He’s so fucking jealous that he wants to curse and scream about it.

[justanotherstarlightmonger]

Piece of peace ch 9

A night in town (1)

Summary: Park Jimin and Min Yoongi had forgone the city life months ago, opting to settle into their dream cottage in the woods born of dreams and furnished with love. And it was always going to be them. Until the biggest thunderstorm of the year carried an unexpected guest to their door smack dab in the middle of them living their isolated dream

Pairing: Yoongi x Jimin, Yoongi x Jimin x reader

Word count: 1.1 k words

Warnings: None

POP Navigation

Taglist: @themochiverse and my yoonmin anon.

A/n: HAPPY VALENTINE'S DAY MY SWEETS!

The dress Jimin had bought you was a beautiful electric blue. The neckline hugged your clavicles and tapered to your shoulders and the ruffles that began at your waist flowed out to your knees when you cinched in your waist. It was a silky fabric that fell around you weightlessly and was a dream to move in. As you admired the way you looked in the mirror in the hallway, your hair sitting upon your shoulders, Yoongi stepped out of their bedroom.

Your eyes met his in the mirror and both of you stopped dead in your tracks.

He wore a plain white shirt, tucked into black trousers, with the top two buttons undone and a careless sweep to his hair as if he had freshly blow-dried them.

He was a vision. His earrings catching the light above, he tilted his head towards you with a broad smile.

You felt breathless.

How was he this good-looking? Was this even possible? You shuffled your slipper clad feet and brushed some invisible dust off your dress, suddenly feeling very self conscious.

"You look so pretty y/n-ie" he said softly as he came to stand in front of you.

"I– you look amazing too!" You nodded enthusiastically. This felt foreign. But felt right. Felt easy, almost.

You hadn't been one for fine dining, even fast food hangouts had been overshadowed by the worry of getting home in time. Yet, here you were, in the serenity of this home, dressed your best, standing in front of a man who had been nothing but truthful and accepting, waiting for another man who had seemed to pick your heart just like those pieces of glasses he had picked from the ground.

Presently, Jimin was ready too.

He wore something almost identical to Yoongi, both of them looking similar but different due to their hair and difference of accessories, but they looked like a force to be reckoned with nonetheless.

It was getting harder to breathe the longer you looked at them.

And then Jimin brought out these dainty silver ear cuffs for you.

"I figured you wouldn't have jewelry to go with the dress, but I didn't buy any coz I have more than enough to share" there was a coy smile on his lips as he held out his palm where the simple, but clearly expensive jewels shone.

There was no way that was real diamonds shining on there right?

RIGHT?

With shaking hands, you took the earrings and put them on, turning to the mirror again and almost fainting at the sight.

You looked good, yes, but it was the molten sunrays in the two pair of chocolate eyes that looked into yours in the reflection that made you feel as if you were the most beautiful girl in existence.

A flood of warmth and shyness crashed into you and you turned away. "Ehm… I'm ready whenever you are "

As you three made your way to the car, Yoongi in the rear, you heard a light chuckle and then what sounded like a slap. Turning back, you saw a red faced Jimin staring down a dark eyed Yoongi.

"What?" He shrugged, "it's not my fault those pants fit you that well."

Jimin shook his head at you apologetically and moved ahead to open the door for you.

You had to admit, that was a really nice ass.

~~~~~~~~

Dinner was a splendid affair. There were courses whose names you couldn't pronounce, and flavors you had never tasted.

Yoongi and Jimin miraculously seemed to know what you'd like, and Jimin even encouraged you to get a refill on the fancy wine.

Conversation flowed easy with them too.

And more than once, your heart panged at the peace and love in the air, and how deprived you had been of this all your life.

As if you never knew you were missing air itself.

After two glasses of wine, you felt a flush on your face and a spring in your limbs. And the way Jimin was shooting heart eyes at Yoongi, was all too clear to your eyes. So when Yoongi went to the bathroom, you pointed an accusing finger at Jimin,

"You really love him huh?"

Jimin giggled softly, "I do, what gave it away."

"You have hearts in your eyes" you nodded knowingly.

"Are you drunk already sweets?" Jimin asked.

You shook your head, "Nope, maybe a little. But don't change the topic."

"Ok, let's talk about how much I love him then."

"How?" You frowned, a little pout forming.

"It's not hard." Jimin leaned on his arm.

"I've heard love is hard though," you argued.

"It's really not" he whispered, straightening in his chair as Yoongi came back.

"What did I miss?" He asked.

"Nothing" you smiled angelically.

"Miss, the gentleman three tables down asked me to give you this" the waiter came to your table and placed a neatly folded note beside your plate.

Yoongi and Jimin's eyebrows were high, as your eyes focused on the waiter, then the smiling guy who sent the note and then the note itself.

With a slight tremble of thrill you unfolded it to aneatly scribbled,

'Allow me to take you dancing after you're done with dinner.'

Once again, your eyes shot to the stranger. His eyes were piercing and dark, cheekbones high and lips set in a little smile of self confidence. His dark hair framed his face and his tie was loosened around his collar, giving him a strange, mysterious but enticing aura.

He nodded at you, and raised his wine glass to you, then to your lips.

Both the guys in front of you saw your cheeks flush maroon and your fingers fidget in your lap.

They gave each other a look and turned back to look at him too.

The stranger's eyes flitted to them momentarily then found yours again and tilted his head in question.

It was a risk.

You looked at Yoongi, slipping him the note that he read swiftly.

Jimin's jaw tightened imperceptibly.

"Would you like to?" He asked.

"I think I would… " you said softly. It was a risk, but you had been taking so many. And the guy was good looking, and gentlemanly enough to be here wasn't he? "... but I'm not sure" the fear of strangers still ran in you deep.

Yoongi blinked, then grasped Jimin's thigh. He was in his 'in charge' mode.

"You should go if you want to y/n, we'll accompany you. You won't be alone."

Jimin's head snapped to Yoongi, incredulous but the older just nodded softly at you.

"We won't be too far. Go have fun."

You smiled, feeling a silent reassurance engulf your fear and dull it.

"Let the gentleman know I'd like that." You smiled to the waiter.

[concealedrecs]

Fic: not just a weapon

Author: ineedmygirl

Fandom: BTS

Pairing: Min Yoongi/Park Jimin

Rating: Explicit

Length: 60, 521

Recommendation: Just a delight to read : popcorn blockbuster spy thriller about the one that got away, and the assassin who loves them.

[rtzyyy]

oh baby, yes (I want it) 6k

💞 Exes yoonmin

💞 Jimin tries to make Yoongi jealous by dancing with jk

💞 Does it work?

🔞S🔞M🔞U🔞T🔞

[jamyangking]

2.Yoonmin . Life out here by PrettyPiedPiper

(https://archiveofourown.org/works/33328558)

https://youtube.com/shorts/bJccMyVjflM?si=c5gCXIpu3CqgEgbw

[deepslowpanicfics]

♡ Fic Master List ♡

Welcome to my writing master list - organized by ship. You can find all my fics on Ao3 here and a sortable master list here.

♡ Current Ongoing Fics ♡

Always Crashing in the Same Car [ E | 6/14 | 52k+ ] enemies to lovers | slow burn | hurt/comfort | found family | car racing

♡ Completed Works ♡

♡ Yoonmin ♡

18 fics

♡ Yoonkook ♡

23 fics

♡ Taegi ♡

18 fics

♡ Namgi ♡

23 fics

♡ Yoonjin ♡

7 fics

♡ Minjoon ♡

12 fics

♡ Vmin ♡

5 fics

♡ Jinkook ♡

2 fics

♡ Namkook ♡

4 fics

♡ Jihope ♡

3 fics

♡ Namseok ♡

3 fics

♡ Taejin ♡

2 fics

♡ Jinmin ♡

3 fics

♡ Taejoon ♡

1 fic

♡ Sope ♡

1 fic

♡ Taekook ♡

1 fic

♡ Poly ♡

10 fics

[koofishy]

Take Me Out (yoonmin au fanfic)

I originally posted this as a twitter thread but decided to upload it here too. It was inspired by these pics of Like Crazy Jimin and Haegeum Yoongi. Enjoy!

They meet in the alley outside the club.

Their gazes lock onto each other from the moment Jimin steps out of the building and they never break eye contact as the other man sidles up to him, cornering him against the wall where the lights don't reach.

The door closes behind them, shutting the loud music and the noise of the crowd inside the club.

It's only them in the dark, quiet night.

Jimin leans back on the wall, hands sliding into his pockets.

"Hey, pretty," he hums, lips curling up lazily. A charming half-grin appears on the other man's face. "What brings you here tonight?"

"Besides wanting to see you?," Jimin rolls his eyes which makes the other chuckle. Then his features turn a shade more serious. "I have news."

The man glances around, then steps closer, even though there's no one else to listen to them. The front of his shoe grazes Jimin's boots and his breath is ticklish on Jimin's ears as he whispers;

"It's done."

Jimin tenses slightly. The other continues.

"I got rid of the evidence, my men are arranging the rest of it," he leans back just enough to catch Jimin's gaze. "He won't be a bother ever again."

A weight lifts off Jimin's shoulders but he doesn't show it.

"Good," he nods. "Nice work, Agust."

Agust D, aka one of the country's most wanted criminals, smiles at that.

Then he pulls something out of his pocket and presents it to Jimin.

A pair of red chopsticks.

The ones Jimin gave him earlier today.

"I washed them and everything, don't worry. No blood in sight," Agust says half-jokingly.

Jimin grins, a little devilish.

"Told you we make a good team," he reaches for the chopsticks, but Agust yanks them back the last second.

Jimin raises an eyebrow.

"What now?"

"You promised me something, Park," Agust's eyes are piercing as he leans in again, head tilted to the side. Dark strands of hair fall around his face with the movement and Jimin has the urge to rake his fingers through them.

He crosses his arms before his chest instead.

"What exactly?"

Agust's gaze falls to his lips for a second, before looking back up.

"A date."

"Did I, now?," Jimin muses, hand reaching out to toy with the beads on Agust's necklace.

Agust tenses, but then his muscles relax and he lets out a laugh, catching Jimin's hand in his. He tangles their fingers together and Jimin ignores the little jump in his chest.

"Yes, you said you'll go out with me once I did away with your disgusting shit of a boss," Agust reminds him. "I did my part of the deal. Now it's your turn, sweetheart."

Jimin hums, pretending to contemplate.

Agust's thumb is stroking the back of his hand in a very distracting manner.

"Wasn't my part of the deal helping you locate your arch nemesis? The hot cop guy?," Jimin says. "I already did that, he was such a cutie when we talked."

It's always fun to push Agust's buttons, especially when it comes to the police officer that looks eerily similar to him.

But, surprisingly, not even the mention of his doppleganger hardens Agust's stare. He's looking at Jimin with a gaze that has him weak in the knees, and it's making it very difficult to stay smooth and collected under it.

He's so close, too. Jimin can feel his cologne and the heat of his body, can see the way his lips twitch, mischievous.

"You're trying to change the topic. Are you backing down, Park?," he whispers. It sends a shiver down Jimin's spine, raising the hair on his nape.

"Are you really this desperate for a date with me?," he counters immediately, like he always does.

They're at a stalemate again, staring each other down like two predators.

It's a game they always play, one they both love and are aggravated by.

Jimin is about to continue, maybe go into detail about the cop just to annoy Agust even more.

But then, Agust laughs.

It's a deep rumble that has his eyes turn into crescent moons and nose scrunch up sweetly, if a little in embarrassement.

He squeezes Jimin's hand.

"Seems like I am, yeah," he says quietly, but his voice doesn't waver for even a second.

Jimin's lips part. He tries to mask his surprise, not very successfully.

He stares at the other man for a second.

He's expecting the usual teasing edge, but there's only honesty in Agust's pretty features.

Honesty, and a sliver of hope, maybe.

Jimin swallows. Glances at their intertwined fingers and looks back up at Agust D.

"Okay."

The man's eyebrows rise.

"Okay?"

"I'll go on a date with you," Jimin clarifies, but then flutters his lashes in fake innocence. "Only because you're so pitiful, begging for it at my feet!"

Agust shakes his head in irritation but it turns fond at the end, as he takes a small step back to pull out his phone. He types on it, so Jimin has the time for a quick, wide grin to himself.

It's gone by the time Agust looks up from his phone.

"Meet me here tomorrow. I texted you the details," Agust says and Jimin nods solemnly.

"Okay, pretty boy. I'm expecting to be wooed," he warns, and the other man's lips curl into a smirk as he straightens his back confidently.

"You will be."

He's about to turn away, but then he pauses and glances over his shoulder at Jimin.

"Oh and Jiminie..."

Jimin raises an eyebrow curiously.

Agust smiles at him, gums showing, making Jimin's breath catch in his throat.

"Call me Yoongi."

Jimin blinks in astonishment.

But then he exhales and lets the giggle he's been trying to keep in finally escape, his eyes crinkling, cheeks rising, happiness tickling his heart as he gazes at the man across him.

Yoongi seems a little winded by the sight in front of him, cheeks tainted pink, so Jimin adds a wink to fully knock him off his axis.

He might be getting softer for the man, but not /that/ soft. He won't go easy on him.

He grins.

"See you tomorrow, Yoongi."

And it's a promise.

And so they go on many dates, fall in love, k word some bad people and look good doing it, etc, good for them :)

Some details are left kinda hazy, you can make up any headcanons eg. how long they've worked together, how they met, what happened w jimin and the hot cop doppleganger/what will happen to him when yoongi finds him etc, if you'd like! Thank you for reading! It turned veryy fluffy at the end but I hope you enjoyed. Don't be afraid to leave notes and comments, or share this fic with others, if you'd like <3 It really means a lot to me! Find me on AO3 and Twitter (I write there too) and you can ask or tell me anything here - please be kind with that tho^^