Warnings - Not literal Infidelity, but they are on the verge of it. Mentions of alcohol abuse, Mentions of Self harm. (There are no heavy triggers, only slight mentions of it.) The warnings are limited to the first few chapters. It gets better i promise)
Summary - Love is indeed a beautiful feeling, but does not come without its obstacles. When your 7 loving, idol boyfriends think it’s better to date someone within the industry or like they put it “Someone who knows their world”, you have no choice but to accept their abrupt decision. Time goes by and you think you’re doing just fine, One long lost dream, One given up identity and one drunk mistake and a few clicks is all it takes until the limelight falls on you and living your life behind a camera is an option no longer available.
Sajangnim, just checked Y/N out of the recovery center. She seems out of it, but I am hopeful that with the proper care, we should be back in Korea by the end of the year or early next year at the latest. - Text from Baek Ha-joon to Bang Si-hyuk, September 2021
She won’t eat. She won’t talk. She won’t write. She won’t sing. She won’t let me play music. She just lays in bed and refuses to move. She stares at the wall — she doesn’t even cry. I don’t know what to do. - Text from Baek Ha-joon to Alton Kuang, September 2021
Sajangnim, just checked Y/N out of the recovery center. She seems out of it, but I am hopeful that with the proper care, we should be back in Korea by the end of the year or early next year at the latest. - Text from Baek Ha-joon to Bang Si-hyuk, September 2021
She won’t eat. She won’t talk. She won’t write. She won’t sing. She won’t let me play music. She just lays in bed and refuses to move. She stares at the wall — she doesn’t even cry. I don’t know what to do. - Text from Baek Ha-joon to Alton Kuang, September 2021
She keeps complaining that Santa Barbara is too white and that if she has to be subjected to microaggressions, cultural ignorance, and being othered one more fucking time by the staff she will make sure she’s much more thorough on her next attempt. Are there any out-patient programs in Los Angeles? - Text from Baek Ha-joon to Alton Kuang, October 2021
Sajangnim, I don’t think it would be a good idea for Y/N to attend the BTS PTD concerts as a way to reintroduce her to public life. She says she doesn’t want to distract Namjoon or the other members from this historic moment. She would prefer they and their staff not be informed that she is now in Los Angeles. - Text from Baek Ha-joon to Bang Si-hyuk, November 2021
She’s a wreck. - Text from Baek Ha-joon to Alton Kuang, November 2021
Sajangnim, I don’t think Y/N will be back in Korea this year or even the next. I am recommending she not renew her contract with us in June. - Text from Baek Ha-joon to Bang Si-hyuk, December 2021
We need to start making plans for who will take care of Y/N when her contract ends in a few months. Unfortunately, I will not be able to stay. I am not confident that she will be able to live on her own safely. - Text from Baek Ha-joon to Alton Kuang, February 2022
March 2022
“Everyone keeps asking me if I can get them BTS tickets, oppa,” you said. “And they want to know if I’m going to Vegas.”
“Do you want to go?” Ha-joon asked carefully, as if you were fragile and he was always breaking you.
“No,” you replied definitively.
You noted his sigh of relief at not needing to tell you it was a bad idea for you to attend. Anything related to BTS or meeting up with people who used to know you — really, peopling in general — was a bad idea.
You hated yourself for turning your once open, confident, and tough love manager into an anxious, guarded person. You knew he was exhausted and you were the cause of his burn out. You were the reason he was going to be without a person to manage in three months’ time. You were the reason Ha-joon was switching departments at HYBE. You were the reason Ha-joon now hated his job.
How he must despise you.
“Do you still need me to get them tickets? I can, you know,” Ha-joon offered kindly. Even now, he was doing his best to take care of you. You did not deserve him.
“You should go, too, oppa,” you suggested softly. At his bewildered expression, you continued. “I’m sure you miss your colleagues and I know you enjoy BTS’s performances, too. I’ll be fine. If you’re worried, I can ask a friend to stay with me for the weekend.”
“Aish,” Ha-joon replied brusquely as he moved to the fridge, pulling food out to start preparing dinner. “I’ll see them all soon enough. I only have you a few more months, Y/N. Stop trying to get rid of me early.”
You merely stared after him, brain futzing. “Oh.”
Everything in your being rebelled at accepting his words as truth. You didn’t realize you were sobbing until Ha-joon enveloped you in his strong, dependable arms.
“Ah, Y/N,” he murmured. “Oppa will miss you so very, very much. But don’t cry just yet — we have three more months together.”
You nodded into his chest and didn’t move for some time. Lies circled your overwhelmed mind like vultures, except for once, you allowed yourself to sink into the hope that Ha-joon was here because he loved you and not because he wanted a return on his company’s investment.
You vowed as you always did that tomorrow, you would make it up to Ha-joon and Alton. You would make them proud one day; you would repay all the sacrifices they had made for you.
———
The next morning, you woke up feeling as you always did: grayed out. The world was muted as if you were underwater and all you could hear was the pounding of your pulse. It did not matter that you were surrounded by luxury in Alton’s understated mansion in San Marino, a wealthy suburb of Los Angeles.
You spent your day like you did every other day: refusing to budge from your bed until your bladder could no longer hold and then crawling back under heavy blankets. You zoned out on mobile games until your elbows hurt. If you sensed Ha-joon down the hall, you would toss the covers over your head, pretending to sleep.
One day slipped into the next and once again, time lost all meaning.
———
“Stop avoiding me, Y/N,” scolded Alton through the tiny screen of your phone, “and before you lie to my face and say you’re not, I have it on good authority that you spend all day locked in your room pretending to sleep.”
“Who says I’m pretending?” you scowled. “I have years of sleep to catch up on.”
“I don’t think that’s how it works, mèi.”
Alton sounded so disappointed. He had to be. He’d settled tens of millions of dollars on your behalf and you repaid him by wasting away your life in bed. Nevermind that you had no idea how to settle the debt given that the thought of singing or performing made you want to vomit. Nevermind that Alton waived it away as if it was nothing. Even if it was nothing to him, it was not nothing to you.
Mattie couldn’t understand why you weren’t more relieved. You didn’t dare confide in him about your sense of despair and indebtedness. The one time you had when he’d visited, Mattie had flown into a rare temper.
“Why can’t you just accept this good thing, Y/N? Why do you always have to be such a martyr? As if you’re the only person in the world who can save us?” The fact that Mattie — calm and collected and easygoing Mattie — had raised his voice at all had thrown you into disarray. “Don’t you fucking dare do anything stupid to pay Alton back. I will never forgive you if you do.”
He had sounded near tears and so you had promised. “I promise, Mattie,” you had said. “Could you clarify what you mean by ‘stupid’ though?” you had teased in an effort to lighten the mood. Mattie had not been amused.
“Anything that jeopardizes your life is stupid, you get me, jiě?” Your brother had growled, his voice flinty and hard.
“I get you, dì.”
“I know you sacrificed for me so I could have an easier life, but I don’t want it. I’m 24 years old and I don’t need it. What I need is my fucking sister to be alive.” Mattie had glared, his hands fisted at his side. “I need you to live, Y/N.”
You had stared at him and perhaps had seen him for the first time. He was no longer a child. He did not need you to take care of him anymore.
“Okay, Mattie,” you had said.
Mattie had stared back, unsure if he could trust you. You hadn’t blamed him. “Okay,” he’d replied as he dragged you into a tight embrace. “Okay.”
Your little brother, who’d established that he was no longer quite so little, had held you for a long time. Somehow, the weight of living had seemed even more ponderous than all your other debts.
You were dragged back to the present when Alton said, “I have a proposal, mèi.” He looked as if he was trying not to seem worried and settled on nonchalance.
“I don’t even get a fancy dinner?” you quipped.
“Dinners are for ladies who put out.”
“Problematic.”
“Just checking to see if you were feeling more like yourself,” he replied. “Glad to see you’re still putting me in my place.”
You grunted. Even this little bit of banter took a lot out of you and you wanted to lay back down, but you didn’t want to face Alton’s judgment.
“What’s your proposal?” you asked. Anything to move the painful conversation along.
“I know you hate feeling like a charity case — and that I can assure you until we’re old and gray and still, you would not believe me,” he said.
You nodded at his assessment. He wasn’t wrong.
“So, hear me out: you want to earn your keep? Then I have a list of demands.”
You raised an irate eyebrow. “Demands?”
“Alright, alright. Suggested work specs,” Alton amended.
“I really can’t work on music, Alton,” you whispered. “So if that’s the work, you’ll be even more disappointed in me.”
Alton rolled his eyes. “I’m only allowing this bullshit about you disappointing me slide — as if you could ever — because I’ll be there in person in June and I don’t want to fight before I get to LA,” he said.
You gestured for him to continue.
“Your work is to physically get out of bed — and stay out — before noon every day.” Alton held up a hand to forestall your burgeoning nitpicking. “And yes, including weekends. And no, you cannot just use another bed.”
“Spoilsport.”
“I also will need you to eat at least one nutritionally balanced meal a day as well as do some sort of physical activity twice a week. Oh, and spend at least fifteen minutes in the sun every day.”
You narrowed your eyes at him. “You ask too much. You know how I feel about the sun.”
“Mèi, I’m worried about you.” Alton’s face softened. “You spend too much time in your head.”
You had nothing to say. Panic pulsed at the edges of your mind. Surely, he wasn’t asking too much of you? And yet, it felt like too much.
“I love you, Y/N. You know this, right? Please tell me you know this.”
You nodded, a curt, abbreviated motion. “Just know I’m making you pay for the laser treatments if I get sun spots.”
“If you must,” you sighed, hoping Alton could tell you were teasing even if the tone didn’t sound quite right.
“I must,” he insisted.
After Alton ended the call, you sank back under your covers and thought of his blatant ploy to get you back into the motions of living. If you were to start working tomorrow, you might as well get in one last wallow.
You did not know the way out, but you hoped maybe duty and obligation to Alton would carry you through.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
“TFW old friends refuse to let you accept judgment instead of grace.” - Y/N L/N, Twitter (January 2024)
January 2024
“It’s good to see you again, noona,” Jungkook said as he wrapped you in a tight hug. “Don’t let it go so long next time,” he added, leaving unsaid so much of what Taehyung and the rest of his members had wanted to say for the last few years.
You flushed prettily, eyes remorseful and shimmering. “Thanks for agreeing to have dinner with me,” you said as you sat down in one of the private booths at Ossu Seiromushi.
It had always been one of your favorite places to eat. Taehyung appreciated the fact that even after all these years, you still remembered to support Jin’s older brother. It reminded him that though you had dropped off the face of the earth, you still cared in tiny, ingrained ways.
The four of you made slightly strained small talk. You asked about their year-end performances and families while steering clear of mentions of your own. Taehyung could not help but notice your near constant sipping of the hot sake and how you obviously felt ill at ease. His heart twinged at the years lost between you. He couldn’t stand it any longer.
“I’m sure you don’t really care about how we feel about the weather and our schedules, noona,” he broke in gently. At Jungkook’s shocked gasp, Taehyung wondered if perhaps he was not as gentle as he’d thought.
Panic flicked across your countenance before you shut it down, smoothing over your features. “I suppose you’re right, Taehyung,” you said.
Taehyung pretended he didn’t hear the quaver. He loved you, but he owed it to his leader to ask. Your elusiveness had gone on long enough. “Where have you been, noona? What happened between you and Namjoon hyung? And why did you come back?”
“Taehyung!” rebuked Jimin.
You placed a hand on Jimin’s arm. “It’s alright, Jimin. You deserve answers. Feel free to tell your hyungs, just — just please — let me tell Namjoon myself?”
At Taehyung’s nod, you downed the remainder of your sake and launched into the most heartbreaking story he’d heard in a long time. He wanted you to stop but it was as if now that the dam was released, you couldn’t. Before he knew it, he and his bandmates were sobbing and reaching for their own cups of sake just to make it through.
Taehyung wondered if he had ever known you.
“Noona,” breathed Jungkook. “Oh, noona. I’m so sorry.” His eyes welled over again and you squeezed his outstretched hand across the table.
“I’m sorry for laying it all on you like this,” you said. “I suppose there’s no way to ease into it — at least not when I have so much to answer for.”
“We would have helped you, noona. Surely you know this?” accused Jimin.
Taehyung could tell he was seething just underneath his calm exterior. An angry Jimin was terrifying to behold. You sighed. Taehyung could tell you’d likely heard this from any number of your friends — especially Alton. You knew enough wealthy people.
“I know,” you said, fiddling with your napkin. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I am perhaps a little too proud.”
Jimin barked a startled laugh. “I suppose you are,” he conceded.
“I saw you ask for help all the time though,” Taehyung observed.
“Family’s different,” you said. “You all have such good and kind families — how could I even begin to tell you what my father was like? I —” You swallowed. “My mother disowned me,” you continued dejectedly. “What if — what if I told you everything and you wanted nothing to do with me? If my own parents didn’t want me — how could any of you?”
Your voice broke and you threw your napkin into your lap. You gazed longingly at your empty sake cup and it seemed to Taehyung that you’d come to a decision. You picked up the cup and settled it back on the table upside down.
“We love you, noona,” Jungkook said, resolute. “You’re good through to your core.”
“I — I really am not,” you croaked.
“You think we can’t read people after over a decade in this business?” Jungkook continued. “We’re not naive children anymore, noona. We can’t afford to let the wrong people in our circles — and you’re good people. That’s why it hurt so much when you disappeared. We couldn’t understand how all seven of us — especially hyung — could have gotten it so wrong.”
“It doesn’t matter what your father did or what your mother said. We’re only upset because you had to go through it alone and without us. We love you,” declared Jimin. His tone brooked no dissent.
Taehyung figured it was time for him to say something lest you thought he disagreed. “I’m glad you finally told us, noona. And I’m glad that writing your memoir was healing. I look forward to reading the Korean translation.”
Taehyung’s subject change brought the conversation back to safer territory and he was relieved to see your body finally relax. The four of you chatted a bit more until you looked at the time.
“I know it isn’t even close to midnight except the jetlag is still kicking my ass. But before I forget, I have something for you.” You got up and reached into the shopping bag you’d brought with you and handed them each a gift bag. “It’s nothing fancy, but I — uh, I hope you like it.”
Taehyung took out the tissue wrapped package and ripped it open. He found a thick cable-knit scarf in a deep, forest green shot through with silver-gray embellishes. When he looked carefully, he noted a cuddly bear embroidered on one end and a tiger cub embroidered on the other. He caressed the soft cotton fibers and felt himself choke up.
“This is beautiful,” murmured Jimin. “Where did you find it?”
Taehyung looked up to see Jungkook and Jimin holding up similar scarves except the maknae’s was in charcoal gray and red accents and embroidered bunnies while Jimin’s was a rich indigo blue and silver-gray with embroidered chicks.
“Ah,” you hemmed, flushing slightly. “I knit them. I hope you like them.”
“Noona, I didn’t know you knew how to knit,” gushed Jungkook. “I love it.”
Your mouth quirked ruefully. “I had a lot of spare time,” you said. “I made one for each of you — if you don’t mind passing them along?”
You placed the shopping bag into Jimin’s hands and he nodded.
“I — I don’t know if Namjoon would want — he must hate me but I, I didn’t want to leave him out.” Your voice faltered and you cleared your throat. “Maybe if I — if you could hold onto his until you think it’s the right time?”
Jimin looked torn and Jungkook’s face was filled with anguish.
“Of course, noona,” Taehyung said, wanting to relieve some of the burden Jimin likely felt as the eldest of their condensed group.
“It was good to see you again, noona,” Jimin said as he stood to hug you, his voice thick. “Don’t be a stranger in March, okay?”
You nodded, blinking rapidly. Taehyung and his members chattered among themselves, gathering their things to give you a moment to compose yourself.
When they were outside, Jimin requested one last photo and it hit Taehyung once more just how much he’d missed you over the last three years. You had been like a big sister to him and he had relied on your steady and indulging presence for so much. You had kept him grounded.
He watched as you caught a cab and waved as the car pulled away.
It still smarted when he thought of how much of yourself you’d hidden away out of fear and a misguided attempt to shield them. Maybe it was time they protected you for a change.
———
“The chickens have come home to roost.” - Y/N L/N, Twitter (March 2024)
“What does it mean when the man you’ve spent your life with calls you abusive? Does that mean he saw something inside you — something you thought you’d hidden?” - “Telling a Truth Is a Slippery Slope” (Red Lantern Publishing House, October 2023)
March 2024
Taehyung almost ran into you as you rounded the corner at top speed. “Noona, are you okay?”
It was a stupid question. You obviously were not.
“Do you want me to sit with you?” he asked, though if he was truthful, he was more worried about Namjoon. If you were a wreck then how was Namjoon faring?
“No, I — I’m fine. Really,” you lied.
Taehyung chose to believe it and let you go as he hurried to Namjoon’s studio.
“Hyung?” Taehyung said as he opened the door right after knocking.
All he needed to see was Namjoon’s head buried in his hands and Taehyung was at his leader’s side, throwing his arms around the older man. He just let Namjoon turn into him and weep on his shoulders. Taehyung felt it was about time Namjoon let others carry his burdens, too.
“I suppose you know what happened?” Namjoon grated out after collecting himself.
“Just now? Or in noona’s missing years?”
“I guess everything.” Namjoon shrugged. “You must hate me.”
Taehyung wrapped his arms around the older man again and squeezed. “Why would I hate you, hyung? You didn’t know. How could you be blamed for something you knew nothing of?”
“Am I a monster?” he choked out. “Is that why she didn’t trust me? She tried to explain and I only said horrible things —” Namjoon started sobbing again. “I’m just so, so angry. I thought if I just got a reason from her, I would feel better — but I feel worse. I’m even angrier and I didn’t think it would be possible.”
“Ah, hyung,” Taehyung soothed. “Of course you’re angry. It’s a terrible situation in general. You both did the best you could.”
“Did I, though? I don’t think I did the best of anything today except be a dick.” Namjoon wiped his face on his shirt.
Taehyung smoothed his hand over Namjoon’s back in small, comforting circles.
“You’re allowed to be angry. You’re allowed to be a dick and not have a perfect response,” said Taehyung. “You’re a person and it’s all been a shock to you. It doesn’t matter even though now you know what happened. She still hurt you, hyung.”
“She really did.” Namjoon shuddered a wet breath. “And the worst part is that I still love her. I love her so much, Tae.”
Taehyung just gazed at his friend sorrowfully. “I know, hyung. I know.”
“I’m so stupid. She’s clearly moved on. As soon as Alton saw an opening, he took it.”
“What?”
“You remember Alton. I always hated him. It was her perfect revenge,” mumbled Namjoon.
“Noona’s not with Alton. She’s not with anyone,” Taehyung said carefully. “She hasn’t dated anyone since she left.”
“She’s not dating Alton? But — but she made it seem like she was?”
“Did she ever say that or did you assume something and she didn’t disagree?”
Namjoon paused. “Oh.” Namjoon looked up and Taehyung hated the spark of hope in his friend’s eyes.
“I thought you were angry. Angrier than you were before,” reasoned Taehyung.
“I am. But that doesn’t negate how much I still love her.” Namjoon hung his head again. “I’m pathetic.”
“I thought you were going to try and love yourself a little more, hyung,” Taehyung said gently. “You feel what you feel and what you feel is real.”
“It’s been years. Why are you still quoting ‘Frozen 2’?” Namjoon questioned with no heat.
Taehyung shrugged. “I can’t help that it’s valid.”
“I don’t know what to do.” Namjoon’s entire body slumped.
“First, give yourself some time to absorb this new information and process your grief and anger,” suggested Taehyung. “And then possibly consider that the noona you love is not the same as the noona she is now — and perhaps she never was.”
Namjoon rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms. “When did you get so wise, Tae?”
“I’ve always been this way,” he chuckled. “It’s just that you finally realized it.”
“I suppose you’re right,” conceded Namjoon. He leaned back into the couch and spread out his body and legs. “Thanks, Tae.”
“‘Course, hyung,” he replied. “We’ve got you.”
“Yeah, you really do.”
———
“Y/N L/N returns to her esoteric roots with the scathing ‘Whore of Babylon’ (Big Hit Entertainment, 2019). While her previous two albums were more mainstream and still managed to hit hard and fun, longtime fans (including this critic) are euphoric at what seems to be L/N revisiting the deconstruction of patriarchy and Christianity. We missed her skewering society while couching it all in brilliant barbs and badass beats.
“The album opens with ‘Revelations,’ a wordplay on how L/N bares all as well as the closing book of the Christian Bible where she gets the title ‘Whore of Babylon.’ L/N examines how patriarchy punishes ambitious women who buck expectations and seize what they want. L/N references Lady MacBeth and kumihos on their own tracks, and in ‘Harlot’s Portion,’ name drops famous biblical fallen women such as the woman at the well and Rahab, the prostitute who helped the Israelites capture Jericho and became the ancestor of Boaz and thus, Jesus.
“But without a doubt, ‘Defenestration’ is a love song and rallying cry for her fandom which is also called the Jezebels. While the Bible paints Jezebel as the harlot queen, used throughout history to vilify beautiful women and those who used makeup, L/N flips the insult much as she did with her Korean debut album ‘Shameless.’ Instead, she tells a story of a rightful ruler whose son was murdered and resisted a coup but then was ultimately thrown out a window by the followers of a power hungry prophet who claimed to be on the side of God.
“Smashing.” - The Hankyoreh, July 2019
“After two mini-albums that clearly catered to trends and veered away from Y/N L/N’s signature ‘fuck you’ to mainstream tastes, L/N is back in fine form. ‘Whore of Babylon’ (Big Hit Entertainment, 2019) is everything we hoped the previous two releases would be: experimental, speaking truth to power, and a slap in the face to incels and religious conservatives.” - Rolling Stone Korea, July 2019
“Fucking fantastic.” - NME, July 2019
[1] Revelations [1:06] [2] Harlot’s Portion [3:48] [3] Out, Damned Spot! [4:07] [4] Se7en [3:15] [5] Casting the First Stone [2:56] [6] Pluck Out Your Eye [4:22] [7] Kumiho [3:39] [8] Until the Stars All Fall [4:30] [9] I’m Glorious [2:45] [10] Defenestration [3:27] - Track list, “Whore of Babylon” (Big Hit Entertainment, 2019)
Score us victorious I am utterly meritorious Notorious, uproarious I want you to adore us
No abstentions or declensions Predicated on inflections Apprehensions, dimensions You have no comprehension
Excoriated, excruciated Your vision’s become corrugated Adjudicated until I abdicated I shall not be eradicated
Censorious, spurious Dismiss the vainglorious Greek chorus Implore us, laborious The weight of story is glorious - “I’m Glorious” (Big Hit Entertainment, 2019)
“Big brain energy + big clit energy = WoB!!! We stan a BAMF!” - Twitter user, July 2019
“Can’t wait for the backlash from tiny, insecure men and the religious hypocrites. Jezebels, go!” - Twitter user, July 2019
“oh fuck the mv for im glorious is glorious” - Twitter user, July 2019
“Did she get a new tattoo? If so, who is the lucky fucker who gets to see ‘taste and see that the lord is good’ on her inner thigh?” - Twitter user, July 2019
“all the leather and corsets and chains and boots and bursts of color and lingerie and tiddies and ass cheeks and *faints*” - Twitter user, July 2019
“Y/N kink activated” - Twitter user, July 2019
“Y/N reading thirst tweets on BuzzFeed is everything! The way she isn’t phased by a damn thing.” - Twitter user, July 2019
“I love how Y/N doesn’t need any fucking explanations. And shit, that low chuckle of hers combined with her eyebrow raise? STEP ON ME, QUEEN!” - Twitter user, July 2019
“SHE READ MY TWEET SHE READ MY TWEET FUCK SHIT SHE WINKED AASKJFADSKDF ASDF;LKJASDF;KLJASDKFJS” - Twitter user, July 2019
“DID SHE ACTUALLY TELL THE PERSON TO OPEN THEIR MOUTH AFTER THEY ASKED FOR HER TO SPIT ON THEM OMG FUCK ME” - Twitter user, July 2019
July 2019
“Oh, shit.”
Taehyung looked up at Namjoon’s comment and noted how flushed his leader was. “You alright, hyung?”
“Noona dropped her new M/V,” he replied, voice cracking.
Jungkook lurched at Namjoon’s phone. “I wanna see! Is it good? She wouldn’t send us any pictures from the set and made us promise not to watch teasers.” When Namjoon wouldn’t relinquish his phone, Jungkook’s face lit up in mischief. “You do know we can just look it up on our own devices, right? Where’s my iPad?”
“No — it’s inappropriate!” Namjoon choked out.
Yoongi smirked. “You can’t stop us, Joon. It’s on the internet and we’re all of age.”
“That’s beside the point. She’s my girlfriend.”
“Oh, fuck. Now I really want to see,” quipped Seokjin. “Hurry up, Kook.”
Taehyung and the rest of his members knew that Namjoon tried to keep his jealous streak in check, and it rarely reared its head enough for them to take advantage. So, of course he joined the rest of his members to watch Y/N’s latest M/V just to piss him off. Taehyung knew from Namjoon’s lack of further protest that his leader knew it was a lost cause anyway.
From the opening black and white shot of Y/N’s back — naked except for a tiny leather waist cincher — Taehyung did not quite know how to react in an appropriate manner. The inky dragon, prowling tiger, and cyborg rooster rippled down your muscular back while the hanja at your neck stood out, bold and fierce. He’d never much paid attention to your tattoos but this time, he was mesmerized.
Plus, the globes of your ass were pert, round, and bare. Fuck.
“Is she rapping ‘I’m Glorious’ over a sample of Biggie’s ‘Notorious’?” Hoseok asked. “Oh, she’s fucking amazing.”
“What does her tattoo say? Is that new?” Yoongi paused the video and squinted at the screen.
Now that the video was stopped, Taehyung stared closely, too. He followed a beautiful script up the length of your inner thigh except it was either too hard to read or he was too distracted by the lines of your leg.
He heard a burst of laughter from Yoongi. “‘Taste and see that the Lord is good,’” he read in English. “Y/N is fucking hilarious.” At Namjoon’s grumble, Yoongi added, “Well, Namjoon. How does the Lord taste?”
“Is it real?” Jimin couldn’t resist asking. “When did noona get it?” At Namjoon’s sputtering, Jimin collapsed over himself cackling. “You haven’t seen it yet, have you? You didn’t even know!”
“We’ve been on tour!” Namjoon defended hotly. “Noona said she had a surprise for me and — ah fuck. I won’t even see her until next week. She did this on purpose,” he groaned. “Why is she like this?”
Taehyung joined his bandmates in their good-natured ribbing. “Doesn’t seem like you mind the way she is, hyung.”
“So, what’s this BuzzFeed thirst tweet video with noona that YouTube is recommending next?” asked Hoseok.
“NOOOOOOO!” cried Namjoon in despair. “Why does she do this to me? This is her revenge on me being on tour this past year and half, isn’t it? She just gets hotter and adds secret tattoos and flirts with her fans and I can only watch through a screen.”
“Stop pretending that you hate it,” Seokjin snickered. “You love that you’re the only one she lets touch her.”
Taehyung ignored the twin twists of desire and envy roiling in his belly as he watched the BuzzFeed video, only understanding some of the references. He understood enough, though. Many of the tweets were similar to what he saw under his own.
He divested his body’s response from his mind. You were Namjoon’s girl. Had been for years. He knew better than to lust after you. They all knew better. And yet, sometimes Taehyung could not help but wish for someone like you in his life.
His hyung was the luckiest man alive.
———
“Former singer Y/N L/N is back in Seoul after a three year absence but this time, it’s as an author. The Korean translation of her New York Times bestselling book, ‘Telling a Truth Is a Slippery Slope,’ has surprisingly flown off the shelves and has even broken records in Korea for books written by a celebrity. Likely, many gossip hounds are curious for clues about who her mystery boyfriend of five years was.
“They will get more than they bargained for. ‘Telling’ is a gorgeous piece of writing — and utterly heartbreaking. L/N said she hoped that her book would shine a light on domestic violence in Asian American households as well as breaking stigmas about mental health and suicide. She wished to give courage and hope for those who are suffering.” - The Korean Herald, June 2024
“No surprise, Y/N L/N is in the headlines for stirring up controversy again. Men’s rights activists and multiple government officials are calling for a ban on ‘Telling a Truth Is a Slippery Slope’ because she promotes harmful feminism and lacks filial piety. Extra security is being hired for her reading events and local authorities are recommending attendants proceed with caution.” - JoongAng Ilbo, June 2024
“I’m so excited!! I got tickets to Y/N’s book tour stop in Seoul!! I wonder if her old labelmates will attend to support her?” - Twitter user, June 2024
[ + 107,892, - 12,389] “Y/N is a disgrace. A real man would have kicked her to the curb years ago. She had an entire album called ‘Whore of Babylon’ a few years back and now she’s back with this shit. Why do we keep allowing a self-admitted prostitute back into this country? Send this Chinese slut back to where she came from.” - internet user, Pann, June 2024
June 2024
It never failed to surprise Taehyung when he saw all the security and protesters surrounding your events. In theory, he understood it. After all, he was constantly protected by a detail due to his international celebrity status, but you were markedly more lowkey. He could never grasp what it was about you that enraged so many men.
Could they not see how you were a warrior artist of unparalleled caliber? Or maybe that was the problem; they could and were terrified.
He followed his bandmates into Starfield Library and gazed at the 13 meter book display. Though he didn’t think it was your style of bookstore, he understood that the venue was chosen to accommodate BTS, TXT, and some of their other HYBE groups.
“I thought we were supposed to be a surprise,” whispered Jungkook. “But it seems the press already knew?”
“Of course the press knew,” Namjoon remarked acidly. “How else could they drum up publicity for noona’s book? We’re here to do our part. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have flown back from Japan and just continued with the Asia leg of our tour.”
“Why did everyone tell me it was a surprise then?” Jungkook pouted.
Namjoon sighed loudly. “Because it’s a surprise to the general public, Jungkook. They probably didn’t want us to spoil it.”
“Like I’m the one they need to worry about,” Jungkook grumbled back.
“Are you going to be okay?” asked Seokjin quietly. “Yoongi or I can speak if they ask for our opinion. I can be extra ridiculous today if you want.”
Taehyung’s heart warmed at the gesture. Even though he knew Seokjin loved Namjoon, he also knew how much his eldest hyung adored and passionately protected you. Between Seokjin, Yoongi, and Jungkook, you were well defended among his bandmates.
It was good to see Seokjin remind his leader at a critical moment that he was on Team Namjoon, too.
“I’m fine,” Namjoon snapped. He took a deep, calming breath. “I’m fine, hyung,” he tried again, this time with more care. “Sorry for being a dick, Kookie.”
“‘S fine, hyung,” replied Jungkook, eyes wide and full of concern. “Let’s grab a seat, yeah?”
Taehyung and the rest of his bandmates joined the section where all the HYBE artists were expected to sit and chatted with the members of TXT in the row behind them. He glanced over and saw you sitting by yourself in the very front, back erect and proper. He took a moment to take you in and understood exactly why Namjoon still wasn’t over you.
You had buzzed the sides of your hair into a perfectly faded undercut leaving a shaggy mohawk that was styled like the rock star you used to be. Your ears were covered in so many piercings it resembled armor and Taehyung mused it probably was meant as such. He couldn’t see the rest of your outfit but it was black and framed the shape of your back in flattering angles.
He wondered why you were alone and was about to discuss with his members about greeting you when all 180cm of Alton Kuang swept in, clad in Tom Ford and looking every bit the chaebol he was. Alton crushed you to him in a bruising hug and after, you melted into his tender and intimate touches.
Maybe Namjoon had been right and it was another omission of yours that they’d missed. Or maybe it was a recent development. With you, they could never really be sure. You sure seemed like Alton’s girl through and through.
Taehyung flicked his gaze to Namjoon who had stiffened in his seat and was being comforted by Hoseok, who had tasked himself with occupying their leader. As much as Taehyung wanted to support you, he really wished it didn’t have to be in such a public setting and at the expense of Namjoon. The whole situation just made him sad and he wasn’t even a main participant!
Taehyung decided to peruse the program instead and before he knew it, the program was starting. He clapped politely in all the expected places, waved when BTS was highlighted and thanked, and then, it was your turn to read.
You walked up, head held high and looking regal in a sweeping modern Tang Dynasty style jacket covered in embroidered white cranes. Your movements revealed glimpses of a lacy bralette and black linen harem pants paired with black stiletto boots.
Taehyung’s breath caught. He’d forgotten just how devastating you could be and sent up a prayer for Namjoon. They would all need one.
I don’t know why you’re here,but I know why Iam,you began.
Taehyung found himself seduced by your reading voice, a resonant contralto so different from your normal speaking voice. If he had heard your reading voice without context, he would have never connected the sonorous, rich timbre with you. You were so deep and he was lost.
I write this book as an altar; it is my pile of rocks in the middle of the Jordan, you continued. In the future, my children will ask me, “What do these rocks mean?” I will tell them, “The water almost swept me away but the people who loved me would not let me drown. These rocks will always remind me: I was here. I am here. I made a promise, and I will continue to be here.”
Taehyung had always appreciated your lyricism before, though he’d paid more attention to your vocal abilities and musical stylings. It wasn’t that your words hadn’t been important — it was more that he had never been a lyrics guy. And now that he heard your unvarnished prose, it occurred to him for perhaps the first time that you were an extraordinary writer.
By the time you were done with your excerpt, there was not a dry eye in the house.
The emcee made a few remarks and the program switched to the question and answer portion from both members of the press and the floor in general. All seemed to be going smoothly until a male journalist representing a conservative paper got the mic.
“Some say that you’re just desperate for attention — that your suicide attempt was faked and that your book is an attempt to revive your lackluster singing career,” the man inquired. “That as per usual, you relied on the sensationalism of sex instead of actual talent to make headlines. What would you say in the face of such observations?”
Taehyung saw Hoseok place a placating hand on Namjoon’s knee and forced himself not to react. He would not give the press any satisfaction of provoking any drama from him or his members.
The corner of your mouth lifted and Taehyung knew to brace for impact.
“I would say that it seems as if you’re projecting,” you replied serenely as people in the audience stifled nervous snickers.
The man sneered. “Don’t think you can dodge the question with a quippy remark. We know what you really are.”
Your face was unfailingly polite. “And what am I?”
“An opportunistic upstart leveraging all your scandals in the absence of talent,” he said.
All the oxygen snuffed out of the room.
“Is that right?” you drawled, your eyes belying your lazy calm. “Then it is as you say.”
“That’s it?” the man challenged. “That’s all you have to say?”
You shrugged. “Let’s not pretend you care about facts or truths or my interpretation of them. We all shape our own narratives and you have already chosen yours. It’s always nice to see new fiction writers make a name for themselves.”
Taehyung wanted to cheer and some audience members actually clapped as you dismissed the man and said, “Next question?”
The rest of the time continued without incident. Of course, there were several attempts at asking for spoilers about your mystery boyfriend, but you accepted them goodnaturedly and skillfully sidestepped the attempts. There were even several moving moments where fans and readers explained how you comforted them in their hardship or gave them courage to ask for help.
Before Taehyung knew it, the emcee was explaining logistics for the ensuing book signing and then ushering BTS and his label’s groups into group photos with you. He waved quickly to you as he was shepherded out of the venue and the last he saw was you addressing and signing one book after another.
He wished they had more time to properly celebrate your book, but they were rushing back to Japan for the start of his last tour. They’d decided to start their military service in September at the same time as Namjoon so that they could all be back together as a group of seven as quickly as possible.
Taehyung did not realize that he wouldn’t see you again for another two years.
“I will protect you from all around you. I will be here don’t you cry. For one so small, you seem so strong. My arms will hold you, keep you safe and warm… ‘Cause you’ll be in my heart. Yes, you’ll be in my heart. From this day on now and forever more. You’ll be in my heart no matter what they say, you’ll be here in my heart always.”
-Phill Collins
Summary: Your last owner had almost beaten you to death, leaving you at the very shelter he had adopted you from. This time, two tall men walk in, immediately drawn to you as you rested in your small cage. You couldn’t help but become attached, just hoping you wouldn’t be abandoned once again by the idols you grow to love.
Warnings: feelings of abandonment, major angst, fluff, polyamory love, mentions of violence, mentions of sexual assault, reference to rape, discrimination,
A/N:The amount of time I took to draw that (^) banner just to have it for 4nemo ficlets— a-ah, I love how it turned out anyway soOOO- anyway! This is sort of 4nemo’s… origin story? At least mytake in how the group was built.
There will be three parts to this, Blooming, Falling, and Loving! (And a bonus angst because it won’t be me without angst, Withering)
✤ she/her
Words: 4.1k
≿————- ❈ ————-≾
A dream is a wish your heart makes—isn’t that a saying from a fairytale?
summary: min yoongi has everything: fame, respect, money, and his manager. and the idol will do anything to keep these things.
pairing:idol!min yoongi x fem.manager!reader
warnings in general: yandere tendency, submissive/passive reader, mean min yoongi, “dark”/unrealistic version of bighit/hybe, alternative timeline (bighit/hybe has a board, bv season 4 is set after the grammy nom,… stuff like that.)
warnings for this chapter: workplace harassment, mention of blood/wounds/needles/vomit (non-descriptive), mention of illegal drug usage, crude language, manipulation, [if i forgot a trigger/warning, please let me know!]
ratings: overall m (please read the warnings!); but not this chapter.
info:read it, don’t live it. yandere stories should be fictional for a reason.
“did you know about this?” you whisper to jinho as your team moves into the venue. min yoongi is walking behind you with two security men flanking him. minhae’s stilettos are heard as well, but you try blend her out.
“about what?” jinho asks while looking around for a staff member to seat your idol.
“that min yoongi reached out to tvn first?” you try again. your colleague looks at you surprised.
“no, i didn’t. but… what does it matter? min yoongi does what he does; there is no point in us questioning that.”
before you can respond, a woman with a headset waves you over, only to show you the clipboard with the seating chart. you nod, scan the names, eyes widening as you see that your idols are sitting next to kim woo bin. sunhee will surely die.
jinho is still talking to another worker there while you turn around to the idol couple; both of them are looking at their smartphones, clearly bored and tired of all the hectic from the red carpet.
you move closer and make eye contact with one of the bodyguards. “they are first row, seats a14 and a15. one of us will get them after the seventh intermission for the backstage room. you ought to be standing at exit one and stage case thirteen,” you tell him and he nods back swiftly.
with a thankful smile you close the distance to your idol rapper who puts his phone away the second you approach him. minhae doesn’t seem to notice – or care.
“you’ll be escorted to your seats by security. we’ll get you to go backstage with enough time for hair and makeup to touch you guys up.” then you bow professionally, which makes yoongi’s lips curl into the first honest smile of the evening. “have fun!” you hear jinho add.
“you’ll be backstage?” yoongi asks, ignoring your coworker. you nod without looking at him as your eyes are set on his expensive shoes.
“get me as soon as it’s appropriate. i hate award shows,” he orders harshly, before motioning the security guard to get going. when minhae tries to curl her fingers around his arm for support, the male idol steps further away from her.
“don’t be ridiculous. if you can’t walk in these shoes, don’t wear them.”
lovely. you nod at the other bodyguard and without a word, he offers his arm to escort her inside, trailing behind min yoongi’s figure.
“come on,_____ there should be a minibar backstage,” jinho says and doesn’t comment on yoongi’s rude behavior.
you sigh in resignation and follow your manager through a corridor filled with fast moving people, carrying clipboards, make up bags and pressed shirts. you get one of the few bigger vip rooms – but yoongi has to share his with some upcoming movie star. with puffed cheeks you fall onto the couch, dreading his reaction to a shared room. because of yoongi, bangtan switched to separate rooms last year.
“do you want grape or strawberry?” jinho swings two iced sojus at you and you wordlessly point to the illustrated grapes. you’ve long kissed your no-drink policy goodbye during award season – the hours are long and time does move faster with a few shots of soju. your coworker opens the bottle instantly and takes out two glasses. you try to take the drink from him to pay him respect by pouring the alcohol yourself. but jinho just shakes his head.
“oh! it begins!” the hair stylist – who you haven’t even heard joining you – claps her hands as her eyes are fixated on the screen. and there he is – smirking at the camera as the presenter on stage introduces the guests in first row. minhae smiles shyly next to him, making you roll your eyes at her acting all innocent.
“the fenty eyeliner under his waterline is really… art,” the stylist comments dreamy and you hate that you agree – yoongi’s eyes are underlined with a beautiful shimmery glow, enhancing his feline features.
“but her cut crease is just as beautiful,” she continues as you finish the drink in your hand without a word. yes, minhae looks good and yes she looks good next to yoongi and yes the both of them compliment each other visually. so what?
“____?” an assistant rushes through the door, not caring to knock. he looks flustered and you faintly recognize his face from the cafeteria at hybe. he’s bangtan’s manager as well – and judging by his flushed cheeks, he’s in trouble.
“taehyung-ssi won’t come out of his bathroom,” he whispers frantically throwing his hands up in the air. oh, right, kim taehyung is here as well. you nearly forgot that yoongi’s bandmate is presenting too. your groups arrived separately because the singer was scheduled to present earlier in the program.
you sigh, already missing your next soju shot. you get up from the couch and follow the rushing staff member.
“you have to be back before yoongi gets here, ____!” jinho shouts from behind you, sounding slightly uncomfortable at the prospect of greeting the rapper without you here.
“come on, ____! we’ve got to hurry!” the assistant isn’t overly nice to you. he doesn’t have to be, but it still sucks to be asked to help without so much as a word of gratitude. you fasten your steps nonetheless as he nearly runs towards another waiting room. the inside is smaller than yoongi’s but it seems like taehyung has it to himself. there is only a familiar stylist there, greeting you without looking up from her cellphone. you don’t care as your eyes train on the closed bathroom door.
“can you please step out for a minute?” you ask them both. the assistant looks like you just told him to abandon his treasured wife while the stylist shrugs and leaves, still glued to her device.
“but- but he has to be out in … in eight minutes!” the staff member says. you nod and point to the door.
“he’ll be there. just, give me these eight minutes,” you answer calmly. the man in front of you takes a deep breath before leaving too. the door closes swiftly and you’re alone. a first this evening.
“taehyung-ssi?” your voice is soft as you knock on the bathroom door.
“______?” he responds only a moment later.
“yeah, it’s me. can you come out?” your question is met with silence, then a “no”. you sigh again, whishing you’d be dancing at bean’s engagement party instead of starring at a closed bathroom door.
seven minutes
“well, can you maybe open the door? you don’t have to get out – just, just let me in,” you reason with him. maybe he’ll take the bait. sometimes, idols are like little children.
“promise me?” he asks to which you only hum in responds. you don’t like lying. soon you hear the soft click of the now unlocked door. without another warning, you enter.
six minutes
there is a lot of vomit covering the toilet, a few drops of blood on his white shirt and an all too familiar syringe. damn it, taehyung.
“oh honey,” you mutter and crouch in front of the teary idol. with a whispering touch, you let your hand glide through his colored hair. taehyung’s eyes are wild, not even the harsh bathroom lights widen his pupils.
“i’m so sorry, ____. please, don’t tell yoongi,” he begs and leans into your touch.
“of course not, honey,” you agree. it’ll be a disaster, the rapper would explode with rage if he knew that taehyung took another unnecessary dose of morphine in the bathroom seconds away from a televised stage.
five minutes
“here” you hand him a baby wipe from the sink. “clean up the blood from your skin.” the idol nods, focused on your words. you rush out of the room to the make up bag. your fingers shake as you rummage through the utensils. they have to be here. they have to be. and there they are, you think in silent victory: colored contact lenses.
you run to the clothing bag and pray that the stylist had the mind to pack a safety shirt. again, you sigh in relief when you see the black button down. it’s not like the white one and it’ll make his dark blazer blend in too much, but you do not care. with haste steps you join the singer again. he has moved, now sitting on the closed toilet.
“put these in,” you command and push the contact lenses into his hands. but they shake and taehyung looks close to tears again. damn him.
“okay, okay, okay – that’s okay. i’ll do it. just – just brush your teeth for me, okay?” you say and switch the lenses with his toothbrush.
four minutes
your face is only inches away from his as you press the blue contacts against his eyeballs. you’ve never worn them yourself, but yoongi had a phase two comebacks ago where he only wanted to perform with green eyes. and the only one allowed to put them in was you. so, your fingers are used to the movement, but still, being this close to taehyung is new territory.
there was a time where no one of bangtan was allowed to talk to you. now, things are different because yoongi gained confidence in your submission. still, if yoongi saw this scene, there would be nothing you could do to hold him back.
three minutes
“let me help you,” you say as if you’re talking to a small boy instead of a grown man misusing illegal painkillers. your hands move with caution as you unbutton his shirt – the blood irrevocably tarnishing his outfit. as soon as the clothing is removed, you seal the puncture site with a band aid. after that you help taehyung putting on his new button down. he hisses in pain when you slip it over his wound, but he doesn’t talk. it’s eerie quiet in the bathroom.
two minutes
“i’m not the best at this,” you apologize as you add some high brand foundation under his eyes. “but it’ll have to do.” his make-up won’t measure up to the work of a professional (right outside the room), but it’s kim taehyung – he doesn’t need much.
one minutes
getting him out of the bathroom is a miracle for itself. but you celebrate internally while handling him an opened bottle of water. “drink all of it,” you order. the idol does as told, and you have the time to comb through his hair. the blazer next to him is the last piece and you try not to wince when you slip it over his injured arm.
“_____?” you can hear the mini breakdown in the manager’s voice as he calls out from outside the door.
the look taehyung gives you is not overly confident, his eyes look void of emotions but his body moves a second to fast as he gets up. the idol is high. he shouldn’t present an award in front of half of korea.
“do i have to?” he asks in a whisper and you nod. “it’s your job.”
you escort taehyung out of the room and down the long corridor to the stage. his stylist grimace at your poor coverup but doesn’t say anything. she knows you’re out of time. at the stairs next to the stage, his costar is waiting for him. park seojoon smiles brightly at your singer, a relieved breath leaving you. he’ll do him good. still, your fingers itch to touch taehyung – just to be sure he’s okay. you don’t. instead, you turn around to walk back to his room. you have to get rid of used needles and incriminating shirts. as you rush back you feel burning eyes on you. you don’t have to turn around to see min yoongi staring at you from across the room.
*
your heels are killing you. at first, you didn’t notice them. but now, standing near exit one, you feel the blisters starting. you don’t want to be here. you want to dance, have fun, congratulate bean. but you’re in a room filled with celebrities instead, clapping politely for the young actress on stage.
as soon as she starts her acceptance speech, you tiptoe to the first row – your feet won’t forgive you for that. it’s unnerving how beautiful yoongi’s back looks, how delicious the suit hugs his wide shoulders. because you won’t drool on him, you hesitantly crouch down next to his seat. damn him for having a gorgeous side profile as well. with a soft touch, yoongi turns toward you. his eyes gleam and you feel your heartbeat fasten at his look.
“you have to get backstage now, yoongi-ssi,” you say as quietly as possible. the idol understands you but doesn’t move – he just… continues to stare at you. your mask hides most of your face, still, you feel naked under his gaze. blood rushes to your cheeks as he wordlessly looks at you.
“it’s time,” you try again but his eyes are the only ones answering. his collab partner sighs, clearly annoyed by this situation. she isn’t the only one.
“we heard you the first time,” minhae hisses quietly. it irks you that she talks down on you, but your eyes stay on yoongi who continues to watch you. after another moment you get saved by the rising cheers around you. even yoongi flinches at the interruption. and then he gracefully gets up, only to offer you his hand. it’s not even debated before you put your hand in his. his palm is cold against your skin, reminding you of the cool temperatures inside the auditorium. yoongi’s grip is firm when he pulls you up, only to steady you with his other hand.
“let’s go,” he orders next to your ear as he lets go of your hand. you nod your head, too afraid to speak. sometimes yoongi leaves you speechless in the best kind of ways – sometimes not. you walk on shaky legs towards the exit, aware that you’ve drawn some attention onto your little group. with quickened steps you reach the doors and push past them to get yoongi backstage.
**
“- so, we are deeply honored to –“ minhae’s voice fills the speakers backstage as you try to focus on yoongi’s cold expression.
“she should never try acting,” jinho comments while packing up the two empty soju bottles. one does not leave evidence. you have to agree with him; minhae does not look natural addressing their collab in front of the audience.
“but she can sing,” you answer, trying to be somewhat objective. you stole some of the make-up stylist’s product the second yoongi went back to the mainstage. your lipliner and mascara is freshened up and you do look pretty in the semi formal dress. before you can twirl your hair more casual, your phone starts to vibrate.
“that’s my uber,” you inform your coworker, only to see him huff – clearly unhappy.
“i don’t understand why you can’t wait till we’re all leaving. i bet the company van will drop you off right at that restaurant.”
yeah, you know the van is already scheduled to arrive in half an hour, when the award ceremony is finished. but what you also know is that yoongi won’t let you go.
“i’m already three hours late – i don’t want to make it four. the stage is done, yoongi looked pretty. all is well. i’m out of here,” you explain again. instead of getting you to reconsider, jinho just waves his hand in your direction. you brush over the smooth dress and walk confidently to the exit.
you don’t want to be here anymore, so you leave.
______
it’s long overdue. i hope you enjoyed the chapter! i’d love to hear from you guys! (and don’t be mad about taehyung – everything is part of the plot.) take care of yourselves and be nice to others!
: fingering, oral sex (m. receiving), missionary, nipple licking, riding, swallowing, dick slapping,
: 1.4k
: You are taking model pictures of your boyfriend, and one thing leads to another…
The sunset is a pink-orange hue with soft clouds blending perfectly like a painting. The light peers through the open window, letting the warm breeze creep inside and sway the curtains slowly to the side. The sound of clicks from a camera fills the room, accompanied by music coming from your playlist. It’s Friday evening, and you are home with your boyfriend Jaebeom, taking pictures of him to send to his management team since you happen to be a professional photographer.
“Turn your head to the side for me, baby,” you say softly.
Genre:Smut, fluff, established (kinda secret) relationship au
Word Count: 2.7k
Summary: The moment Jeongguk and you saw the pink heart-shaped handcuffs that would be a part of his outfit for the photoshoot that day, you both knew what was coming your way.
Warnings:Fingering, unprotected sex, handcuffs (obviously), dressing room sex, quickie, creampie, Jeongguk is a whole tease in this one. Also they almost get caught?
A/N: You guys know smut is not my thing, but, I mean. Pink heart-shaped handcuffs. Do I need to say more? This doesn’t have much of a plot (I think), but I hope you guys enjoy! Also, I apologize for any mistakes that there might be, as I’m running short on time and couldn’t edit is as thoroughly as I usually do.
Little were the times you were able to go on set to support your boyfriend. The fact that not every member of the staff knew the two of you were dating, along with no one outside of the industry knowing about your relationship either, only made things complicated for the two of you. However, with a comeback on his end and finals on yours being just around the corner, it was either that or having to wait three more weeks until you could see each other again.
You had managed not to draw attention most of the day — acting like a good friend with all seven members of the group, which you were, and eventually sneaking out with Jeongguk whenever he was done shooting his parts, so the two of you could have some much needed alone time in any empty room he could find in the building.
It was only when they had changed for their last photoshoot, Jeongguk dressed in a black coverall with a matching belt that made his waist look tinier than ever, as well as leaving half of his sleeve uncovered, that you found yourself breathing heavily.
Especially when a member of the staff went up to him and hooked something pink to his belt, having to tilt your head to the side so you could take a better look at it.
Handcuffs.
More specifically, a pair of cute, pink heart-shaped handcuffs.
As if on cue, Jeongguk’s eyes went to you, a smile curving up his lips as he teasingly raised his pierced brow when your gazes met. That was all you needed to know you were thinking of the same thing.
The rest of the photoshoot? Absolute torture for you.
“So,” he came closer to you after finishing his solo shoot, having Namjoon leave your side and going to have his. “What do you think?”
“Hot” was your simple answer, earning an amused bunny smile from him.
“Hot? That’s it?” he pushed it. “What about the heartcuffs?”
A laugh made its way out of your mouth at that. “Heartcuffs?”
“Jin hyung called them that” he laughed too. “They’re kinda cute, though…” his eyes scanned the one that wasn’t attached to his belt as he held it up. “Kinda resemble ourhearts”.
“I’m pretty sure our actual hearts look a little bit different than these” you teased him over his cheesy words.
Jeongguk rolled his eyes. “I meant that they’re attached, you smartass”.
“So our hearts are cuffed to one another” you gave him a dramatic, understanding nod. “Does that mean there’s no way out for me?”
He chuckled, taking a dangerous step towards you. “Absolutely no way out, sweets”.
“Yah…” you stopped him before he could lean in for a kiss. “Anyone could see us”.
“Half the people here know we’re dating” he whispered without a care.
“And the other half don’t” you pointed out.
Jeongguk huffed, causing you to bite your lip as you thought about it for a moment. After all, and as frustrating as it was, the less people who knew about your relationship, the better.
“How about…” you mumbled, hooking a finger to the handcuff he was holding to pull him just a little closer. “You take these home so we can make up for the lost time later?”
From cute to hot to cute again skfnakdfb I loved it. Those heartcuffs were such a blessing and a curse. This goes down in history. This was fun to read. ☺️
![Mini Mini Cupid Duo [CLOSED]](https://64.media.tumblr.com/9ec4dc2b0f47212e6ff6c6401f7a71a2/21198b01aab4bd4e-d1/s30x30u_c1/6b8ce9c56c06374c6b9e839f54c1a87f01085d10.jpg){kind=small}
