pairing(s): seokjin x reader x namjoon — also yoongi x reader, implied ot7 x reader
summary:Kim Seokjin calls to issue a challenge. A (double) dare, if you will. He says you can’t take two dicks at once. Kim Namjoon, his roommate, argues that you can. Well, you never back down from a dare, especially when it involves Seokjin and Namjoon.
warnings: rated M (18+) for language, low-key horny crack + chaotic energy; smut (fem reader, doggy, threesome, slight D/s dynamics, mild restraint, nipple play, finger sucking, fingering, double penetration); non-idol!AU - ot7 x sex friend!reader, focusing on Seokjin and Namjoon in this one :D (coughwith some Yoongi)
’journey (to the dick)’ au aka you as the main character in harem hentai and BTS is your (horny af) harem
–
“Yah!”
Smack!
“What? Ah, f-fuck!”
“I need you to get over here. There is a particular matter that needs to be discussed,” came the very serious, no-nonsense tone from your phone, speaking rather sternly for someone who called you three times in a row and forced you to answer in the middle of your, ahem, dick appointment.
You were holding the phone in one hand and your other was on the bed, fingers clutching the sheets, jerked forward periodically with firm, hard thrusts.
Someone was shouting behind the one on the phone.
“I told hyung that you could take dick in both holes and he doesn’t believe me!”
You immediately recognized that deep, sultry voice in the background. Still, you needed to address the accusation first.
“Kim Seokjin,” you panted. “What the fuck?”
You could hearhis exaggerated eye roll. Well, you couldn’t, but you could, you know?
“Namjoon thinks you can take dick in the pussy and the ass at the same time,” Seokjin spat as if that was utter bullshit. “And that’s just not possible.”
Smack! “Why–” Smack! “Would–” Smack! “You–” Smack! “Think–” Smack! “I couldn’t – mmm, fuck, yes right theeere, fuck, so deep and so hard, ugh, you’re so good…”
Seokjin continued like you weren’t in the middle of getting fucked right that very second.
“Because, okay, you could take some small dick, sure, but us? Us? Come on, you totally couldn’t.”
“That was absolutely absurd of you to say so, Kim Seokjin,” you snapped, your words curling into a lustful moan as a firm hand pushed the small of your back down, forcing you to your elbow, leisurely spanking your ass hard with his open palm, keeping you on the edge, so close to hitting your peak but not quite there, thrusting steady but rough.
The headboard was hammering the wall at the same deliberate pace.
The neighbor who lived on the other side of the wall was cursing again.
“Are you both going to be home?” you gasped out, all of your muscles tensing. Almost…
Seokjin snorted. “Pfft, obviously, we are human beings who sleep, you know–”
“We’ll see about that.”
You hung up on him.
“I gotta go.”
Surprisingly, the deep, husky voice behind you actually responded.
“Afterthis one.”
“You asshole, you are holding out – a-ah, wait, oooooooh, fuck!”
-
“I took a shower, Yoongi helped me clean all my bits, I dried my hair, went back home to put on a fresh dress and you’re fucking ASLEEP, KIM SEOKJIN, WHAT THE FUCK?!”
“Zzzzzzz – guh!”
Total chaos as you threw yourself onto Kim Seokjin’s lap, disturbing the perfect image of self-proclaimed Worldwide Handsome laying on the couch covered with a fluffy white blanket and squishy alpaca plush with a red neck scarf tucked in his inner arm, grabbing said plush and smacking him with it repeatedly as Seokjin lost his shit, flailing about and throwing his arms over his head, wailing at you to stop. His roommate, Kim Namjoon, was unabashedly cackling like a lunatic behind you.
“Hell no,” Namjoon snorted in laughter. “I’m having a great time watching.”
“Yah!”
“First you doubt me, then you fall asleep on me, what’s next, you–”
Seokjin grabbed both your wrists, thinking he had won, already cheering for himself, only for you to plant your tits right onto his handsome face, his nose jammed right into your cleavage because of the sweetheart neckline of your red lace dress, hot breath warming your chest, brown eyes wide, grip on your wrists lessening in his shock. You yanked your hands out and clutched his head, sinking your fingers into his black hair, violently muffling his half-squeal, half-moan with your breasts, blaringly obvious that you weren’t wearing a bra because your prominent nipples were already hard and creating stiff peaks under the fabric, poking him incessantly in the cheeks.
You gasped as another pair of strong hands grabbed your forearms and made you release Seokjin’s head, forcing them up and your back to arch. A deep voice dipped down to caress your ear, not paying attention to Seokjin who did not detach himself from your tits.
He was making the most of it while you were distracted.
“Woah there, what do you think you’re doing?” Namjoon drawled, grip tightening, bending your arms back, elbows up, pressing your wrists to your upper back. “That’s not a punishment.”
You tried to breathe but Namjoon’s heavenly deep voice was taking your breath away.
“You know what punishments are.”
He pressed your head back, leaving your arms the way they were, and Namjoon’s sultry eyes appeared, half-lidded brown orbs completely visible because he had cut his hair very short now, dark gray-brown and spiked up, cocking an eyebrow at you. You whimpered at his gaze, suddenly feeling hotness on the curve of your breast, lips pressed to one of your nipples, and then wetness closing in, sucking you through lace and satin, the short flared skirt rising because of your spread thighs, but there was too much fabric between you and Seokjin’s hardness, the blanket and pajama pants and boxer briefs, so frustrating, about to lower your head to rectify that, but Namjoon’s palm pressed into your chin, fingers closing in around your cheeks, immobile.
“Where do you think you’re looking?”
Every time Namjoon smirked, one of his dimples peeked out at you. Ugh, so sexy.
“I… I’m s-supposed to be punishing Seokjinnie…” you gasped out, feeling said man’s teeth nicking at your nipple through your dress, his large hands closing in on your waist, pulling you closer, causing you to bend back more, unable to escape Namjoon’s grip and gaze.
Namjoon tilted his head, amused. “Yeah? Were you so, so mad that hyung wasn’t awake so you could show off how well you can take it in both holes?”
You didn’t want to whine and be pathetic, but Seokjin’s mouth and hands were all over your breasts and waist, pinching you through your clothes and sucking on the hard nubs, rushes of pleasure clouding your head and making you forget your defiance, remembering all the things Namjoon liked, like when you were so drunk on sex that you just gave into him, now whimpering and opening your mouth, your tongue sliding out, feeling him shift his palm, Namjoon’s finger leisurely tracing your lips. Your tongue followed, licking the pads of his fingers, rolling your body into Seokjin’s mouth, wanting to grab his shoulders but not letting yourself do so because Namjoon hadn’t allowed you to do so yet.
He liked you bad, but he also liked you obedient.
“W… Want it…”
You felt Namjoon’s other hand tangle in your hair, fingers molding to your scalp, sliding two of his long fingers into your mouth and making you suck on them, your eyelids fluttering as he fucked your mouth with his fingers, rubbing your tongue, pushing your arms down, your name growled by that deep, deep voice.
“Look at me.”
You fixated your eyes on Namjoon’s stern expression, shuddering as you felt Seokjin push the sleeves of your dress down, scooping out your breasts, moaning as his lips touched your skin, hot tongue teasing your hard nipples and you couldn’t tell him to do more or less, trapped by Namjoon’s fingers in your mouth and his hand in your hair, tugging at it lightly so you sucked his fingers like a cock, vision hazing out at the helplessness of it all.
Voluntary helplessness, to be clear.
“You want it? You had Yoongi-hyung fucking you earlier and now you want more? So dirty and so insatiable,” Namjoon taunted, not meaning it of course, because how could he mean it when he too wanted it all, knew you were insatiable and loved it as much as the rest of them, addicted to the feeling you gave him, pushing your head down, fingers still in your mouth. Seokjin raised his head, black hair, large brown eyes, pink lips lush and full and gorgeous, meeting the image of fingers sliding in and out of your glossy lips, your eyes glassy and reflected in his.
Namjoon pushed his fingers apart, opening your mouth.
Your tongue lolled out, swiping around his knuckle, staring into Seokjin’s eyes.
“F… Fuck…”
The oldest was dirty-minded but resistant in showing it, clenching his jaw, weakening as your fingers danced up his arms and you moaned his name messily between Namjoon’s long wet digits, tits pushed up by the neckline of your dress straining under them, knowing your sensuality was irresistible and infectious, placing your hands on his broad shoulders, pulling him closer.
“I still… don’t think you can take us both at once…” he breathed, staring into your eyes.
You smirked, Namjoon’s fingers sliding out, saliva smearing onto your chin, the taste of his skin on your tongue.
“Only one way to find out.”
And you leaned in and kissed those perfect lips, soft and passionate kiss, wrapping your arms around him, fingers splaying over his back and in his hair, his name trapped in the kiss, sudden hardness pressing to your back, breaking the first kiss and turning your head to be trapped in another, full lips commanding the lip-lock, two different hands on your breasts, Seokjin and Namjoon toying with them, the rush of pleasure only just beginning.
-
“Whose face am I looking at?”
“Obviouslymine,” Seokjin scoffed. “Do you even have to ask?”
You gasped. “But Namjoon is so handsome.”
Seokjin rolled his eyes. “Yeah, but you want him to make you look at him, so that completely defeats the purpose of being forced when the default is you facing him.”
“Also, hyung thinks he’s the most handsome,” Namjoon chuckled, tugging your dress off, kisses across your chest as it left your body, hands travelling to push your panties down.
“No,” Seokjin choked, affronted as you moaned and gripped Namjoon’s shoulders, enjoying his powerful grip. “I am not that self-centered. I just happen to like how Ilook very much. Namjoon is very handsome, capable, and intelligent.”
“Thanks, hyung.”
Namjoon shoved a finger inside your wetness, making you stumble into the sofa, raising your leg to place it against Seokjin’s naked thigh, almost falling if it wasn’t for your ass being suddenly grabbed by Seokjin’s firm hands.
“You are still clumsy, Namjoon,” Seokjin sighed, lowering you slightly to look over your shoulder.
You reached back and held onto the sofa, Namjoon’s mouth on your nipple and his finger in your soaked pussy, thrusting deeply to match his swiping tongue, maddeningly slow but rough, so dangerous, losing your mind at the leisurely pace, trying to buck your hips to get more but Seokjin’s hands were preventing you.
You heard the oldest huff and make a disapproving tongue click.
“Not like that. She likes it faster than that.”
Namjoon knew that. Obviously.
Your eyes widened.
He smirked around your nipple as one of Seokjin’s hands left your ass.
“Seok– oh, fuuuck!”
You gasped as you felt another finger enter your dripping pussy, another finger of a different hand, stretching your walls and a different pace, faster, your eyes rolling back, head hitting Seokjin’s shoulder, but either he didn’t notice or didn’t care, your moans in his ear, Namjoon matching the rhythm, oh, shit, they were fingering you together, Seokjin from between your legs from behind and Namjoon from the front, the backs of their hands slick with your juices, Seokjin’s other hand still squeezing one ass cheek and Namjoon’s other hand on your waist, his mouth on your breasts.
“Come on, I know you’re close,” Seokjin muttered, exhaling hard. “I can feel your pussy sucking me in, asking for dick already.”
He was not normally one for dirty talk, but sometimes Seokjin let himself got lost in the lust, lost in the moment of your throbbing walls and shaking body, moans of their names tumbling from your lips, filling up their living room with obscenity and depravity, thrusting in unison, loud and wet and heavy breathing blending with your sound, pushed to the edge, thighs tensing, electricity flashing throughout your nerves.
“Namjoon, Seokjin, fuck!”
Wet squelch, sweet gush of your juices soaking their hands, your eyes rolling back, yelping as Namjoon’s hand retreated and Seokjin stuffed another finger in you. You didn’t need to say it, one glance at Namjoon and he could see it, harder, hyung, she can take it, gasping as Seokjin obeyed and Namjoon’s wet fingers pressed onto your throbbing clit, wild howl at the contact, sparks of sensitivity because it was right after your orgasm, heat at your neck from Seokjin’s cheeks, his teeth finding your shoulder, biting it, maybe from his realization of how crazy this moment was or in the heated moment of wanting to feed you even more pleasure, but the sharp unexpected pain only hiked your moans, Namjoon rubbing your clit as Seokjin shoved his fingers into you hard and fast, the angle a little awkward but there was so much going on that it didn’t matter, already there once again, obsessed with the overabundance of ecstasy, I’m cumming, fuck, Namjoon, Seokjin, a-ah, clit engorged and pulsing strongly to Namjoon’s punishing touch, words jumbled and woven with breathless cries, orgasm crashing down and soaking Seokjin’s hand once more, thick and sweet and honey-like, viscous juices clinging to your inner thighs, painted with your high.
Namjoon leaned in, silencing your shuddering gasps with his mouth, deep kisses and swirling tongue dazing you, aftershocks flinching through your torso as he pressed his fingertips to your jerking core, lowering you from the crashing waves, whispering darkly against your lips.
“We haven’t even started.”
Releasing you, and you were already turning around, meeting Seokjin’s gaze and his panting smile, kissing it, sighing contentedly in his touch, just something about those lips and his large frame surrounding you, something about the way he shivered when you sucked his breath away and drank it, almost innocent, but not that innocent, because the second your wandering hand found the condom on the sofa and pressed it into his palm, his lips curved into a teasing grin, nipping at yours.
“Already?” he teased.
You reached between you and him, fingers ghosting his length, smirking at Seokjin’s gasp, gazing at him under your lashes.
“You get hard from kisses, Seokjinnie.”
“I – gah, d-don’t…”
But he didn’t mean it, of course not, because he was humping your hand that was closing around his hot, hardening cock, stroking him slowly from base to tip, spreading the pre-cum over the sensitive head, his jaw clenching at the feeling, desire and need clouding his eyes, pupils blown-out, ripping open the foil packet, heavier exhales, staring into your eyes.
“You want to look at me that bad, huh?” he breathed against your lips, fishing for it.
You gave it to him, exactly what he wanted.
“Mhm, Seokjin, I want to look at your handsome, perfect face while you fuck my pussy and Namjoon fucks my ass.”
He sucked in a breath, caught in his throat.
“You’re crazy, but so, so hot.”
Eh, you’ll take it.
You moved your hand and he rolled the condom down, yelping as you captured his lips again, addicted to his kiss and his soft cries, his hand and your hand guiding his stiff cock to your quivering pussy, already saturated with slickness, spread knees and lowering body, sinking down onto him, moaning into his mouth and he moaned into your throat, suffocating each other with your noises, rolling your hips and breaking the kiss, both of your faces pointed to heaven with the true heaven between your connected hips, pleasure at being filled and doing the filling, his hands on your ass to push you down.
“Hyung, spread her ass,” Namjoon ordered behind you.
You pitched forward slightly, wrapping your arms around Seokjin’s shoulders, gasping as you felt him tug outwards, sinking his fingers into your softness, your lips pressed to his cheek, his sweet voice murmuring your name, filling you with warmth despite being exposed so vulnerably.
You inhaled deeply, breathing in Seokjin’s clean scent.
Then you flexed your asshole, tightening and relaxing the ring of muscle.
“Fuck, that’s so sexy.”
You gazed at him in your periphery, eyes widening as you realized Namjoon too was naked now, muscular body towering behind you, flicking open a bottle of lube and spreading it over his fingers, rubbing them together as they became shiny and slippery, catching your interested expression.
He smirked, dimple on display. “Ready?”
“I’ve been ready since I walked in the door, Namjoon,” you smirked back, enamored with his seductive dark brown eyes.
He chuckled.
“Nah, you were ready the second Seokjin challenged you and said you couldn’t do it.”
Oops, he got ya.
You gasped hotly, feeling his fingers press up against your tight hole, tracing circles and teasing you, pushing into your ass in the opposing rhythm of Seokjin’s rocking hips, your hold on Seokjin’s shoulders tightening, hearing him gasp with you, watching two Namjoon’s fingers dip in and snake into the tightness, both of them inhaling sharply at the sound, wet squelch and your wanton cry, your hips rocking into it, pleasure shimmering all over.
“T-That’s still not a dick,” Seokjin managed to get out, still stubborn but mixed with awe regardless.
“Gotta stretch her out,” Namjoon chuckled. “Don’t wanna hurt our good girl, right?”
Well, if you weren’t in euphoria before, you definitely were there now.
“N… Namjoon-ah…”
“Shh, I got you, just enjoy.”
You arched your back a little more, Seokjin sliding down to accommodate, slowly thrusting and gasping at the sensation, turning to him and intense kisses, needing to occupy your mouth, fullness in your ass and your pussy, whimpering as your felt Namjoon’s fingers flex, nudging your muscles to relax, core throbbing, clenching around Seokjin’s stiff length instead, so good, oh, yes, it was so good, his kisses and slapping your hips down, wanting more, already chasing more, intoxicated by the feeling of both your holes being filled.
You heard the bottle of lube fall to the floor and the slick sound of hand on hardness.
Shivers up and down your spine.
“Say it.”
You broke Seokjin’s kiss, gasping.
“Tell us that you want it,” Namjoon growled.
Drunk on the idea, commanded by lust.
“P-Please, Namjoon…” you breathed, eyes hazy and half-lidded, staring at Seokjin. “Want you to fuck my ass as Seokjin fucks my pussy. Want you two to ruinme.”
The brown eyes beneath you widened, mouthing, you’re crazy.
You grinned, Namjoon’s fingers buried in your ass.
“Told you, hyung.”
His fingers pulled out, pushing the small of your back down with his palm. One a second to mourn the loss and then your eyes widened, the thick head of Namjoon’s cock pressed against your ass.
Wait, maybe you should have asked if Namjoon could be in your puss–
Too late.
“Oh,f-fuck!”
You clutched Seokjin’s shoulders, digging your nails into him as slowly, carefully, Namjoon’s girth entered your tight, tight hole, still tight even through he worked you up and stretched you out, the lube helping him slip inside, your mind going blank, realizing that maybe you went over your head a little, but too far to turn back and, to be honest, you didn’t want to turn back, the fullness already too good to regret it, gasping as Namjoon gripped your hips, holding you completely still as he bottomed out, hot breath on your shoulder blades.
Well.
Your mind wasn’t so blank that you forgot to speak.
“Still…” you panted, slowly grinning at Seokjin’s shocked and stunned face, his jaw dropped as he felt and witnessed it. “Think it’s impossible for me to take dick in both holes?”
“Y-Y-You…” he sputtered, choking a little as Namjoon began to move, his scrambled words mixing with your lustful moans. “Are absurd.”
It was almost too much, but Namjoon did not let you command the pace, instead firmly keeping you in one spot as he nudged Seokjin to move, guiding you both expertly, groaning when you pulsated around the two dicks, able to feel the reverberations from the closeness, body to body to body, trembling from the overwhelming sensation, Seokjin thrusting up from below, his handsome face tense, panting with effort.
“Oh, fuck… it’s so tight… fuck, I can feel it, I can feel his dick fucking your ass, that’s so weird…”
You weren’t quite sure what he expected to feel. What did Seokjin originally think he was getting into when he called you? He was the one who had been touting their superior size! What did he think it would feel like–?!
“A-Ah, y-yes, there, like that, oh f-fuck, like thaaaaaaat…”
You forgot about questioning Seokjin’s brain, refocusing on the feeling of the consistent thrusting and depth of the two cocks, an almost melodic rhythm and substantial fullness. There was a sweet spot, right, oh, there, Namjoon’s hand flat against your back, his deep grunts of effort paired with each smack of hips to ass and Seokjin’s crotch to yours.
Oh, huh, were those loud, pitched moans resonating off the apartment walls you? But the ecstasy too high, too real, too good, so good that you seemed to forget that it was already very late at night.
Surelytheirneighbors would complain – was that part of your brand now? oops – but it seemed that neither Seokjin or Namjoon noticed or cared, pants and moans and groans and chasing carnal pleasure, irrational, wild, heads thrown back, lashes fluttering and lost in bliss, stuffing your tight, wet heat from both holes, kissing Seokjin sloppily before turning your head to make out with Namjoon, his teeth trapping your tongue and sucking on it, gargled moan and shaking body at the mercy of his iron grip, snapping back to Seokjin’s pillowy lips, juxtaposition of hard and soft, crashing pleasure and coiled constriction, letting go, orgasm overtaking you in shudders, not realizing you had been so close, their names falling from your throat between fucked-out, loud, blissful cries.
“Seokjin…Namjoon…”
Couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t do anything but peak in that gratifying elation, shivers up and down your spine, the lower half of your body throbbing and trembling, chin lowering only to witness Seokjin shutting his eyes and clenching his jaw, groaning out your name as he shot into the condom, jerking cock twitching inside you, vibrating front to back, no, that was Namjoon’s low hiss of your name, his fingernails digging in your hips he shot into your ass, your eyes snapping open, thick spurts of his orgasm so strong that you could feel his cock twitching deep inside, your pulse roaring in your ears, chest heaving, struggling for breath.
Feeling far too proud that they both came with you.
Namjoon’s sweaty chest hit your back, sandwiching you between that big body and Seokjin’s broad shoulders. Seokjin looked to be two seconds away from passing out from the ecstasy of orgasm.
Nice.
“Don’t… question me… again,” you snickered, panting heavily.
Seokjin mumbled and shrugged, incoherent.
“I think he’s saying you could do this, but not the reverse of him in the ass and me in the pussy,” Namjoon clarified, kissing your shoulders with an amused chuckle.
“What?!” you roared.
“That’s n-not…!”
Welp.
-
“We still have unfinished business.”
“Yoongi, I just got DP’ed last night. Have mercy.”
“Mmm.”
Kisses on your neck, lowering the strap of your bra, wrapping his arms around you, purring your name.
“I guess you can buy me dinner and we can watch a movie instead.”
Summary - You would never expect it really. He’s doting. He’s sweet. He’s hardworking. But he’s forgotten his morals. Suspecting it is one thing, but when he confirms it, will you stay or walk away.
Warning - Cheating(Aftermath);
Word Count - 6.3k
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
‘You know, I don’t see why we can’t just gatecrash the bachelorette party.’ Jimin whined over the phone.
‘Mini, I love you, I do, but it’s girl’s only.’ You rolled your eyes and smiled into the phone. ‘Plus, you guys have to be there for Kenta. Be the life of the party,’ you lifted your shoulders,’ I don’t know… guy talk.’
He scoffed. ‘It’s wayyy better to shake my ass with our party girls, and I know for a fact there’s going to be shit talking. The soulmates are the life of the party, y/n.’
You shut your car door and talked on your way up Yuna’s steps. ‘So be the life of thatparty.’
You heard him grumble to Taehyung who was probably next to him.
Fidgeting with the spare key in your hand you sighed. ‘Okay let me do this, I have Kae-Lee, Ria, Lirrah and Jia with us tonight. So let me see where the night is headed, and if it’s cool with the girls, I’ll give you guys a sign to come through.’
‘What about Yuna?’
You snorted. ‘Please, that bitch would never mind the two of you.’
‘Okay. Let’s see if we can get this party started. If it sucks, we’re jumping ship.’
You chuckled at their lack of remorse. 'We’ll be happy to have you aboard.’
You jumped out of your skin as you heard a crash come from inside the house, then a scream.
Yuna!
'Gotta go.'
Ending the call and shoving the phone in your pocket, you hurriedly twisted the knob on the door. Finding it open, you pushed your way inside.
'You are one crazy bitch!'
The sound was that of a kitchen utensil hitting the floor, so you headed straight for the kitchen and rounded the corner to its entrance.
'What the fuck is going on here?’ You looked at the tray and crumbs of broken muffins strewn across the floor then between the two individuals that shared the same face, but couldn’t be more different.
'Oh great.’ Helen let out a cold spurt of laughter. 'Here to save the day, as always, y/n.’
Helen and Yuna had had their fair share of fights. You and Helen had enough experience getting in each other’s way, but something… seemed different this time.
She looked wild, and unhinged. A cold trail built up your spine, one that had your protective instincts rearing its head.
Pushing aside any fear, you walked to Yuna, giving her a once over.
'Are you okay?’You pushed her hair out of her face and noted the shock etched on her features.
'I’m fine.’ She gave you a hard look. That look would fool anyone… anyone that didn’t know her.
She was scared, and in pain, and this may have never been your fight, but you would always choose to protect her, even if she hadn’t asked.
Eyes blazing, you turned on the cause of Yuna’s distress. 'What the fuck are you doing here, Helen?’
'This is my sister’s house.’ She feigned nonchalance, but you could see she was rattled. ‘I don’t owe you an explanation.’
'What. Do. You. Want?’ You ground out each word. You had no time for games.
She opened her mouth to speak and paused. Chuckling incredulously, she turned her head to the ceiling, hands on her hips, 'You are really a thorn in my side, y/n.’ Looking back at you she crossed her arms, and pursed her lips. 'You have been for a long time.’
Helen Mei was strong, independent and cutthroat. She did her job well. She carried herself well. She fought the system, was brutally honest and would never back down from a fight. As a person, it would hardly be a struggle to get along with her, as Yuna’s sister she was less than tolerable. You had an inkling and a fear about her true feelings toward you, a friction between the two of you that could never be bypassed or erased. But up until the fight you had weeks ago, and now, you didn’t know how far her insecurities ran. Then again, it wasn’t an insecurity if it was true.
She continued without waiting for you to speak. 'It just wasn’t enough for you, was it?’ Her question didn’t sound rhetorical at all, as if she was actually looking for an explanation. 'It wasn’t enough to disappoint your family, disappointing your father,’ her voice felt like a whip cracking against old wounds, opening them up, 'to push them away, leave them high and dry,’ she frowned at you, 'you had to steal mine as well.’
'When I had none left!’ You flinched at her outburst and felt your throat flex with a hard swallow. You decided to bite your tongue against any of her words – this was a long time coming.
'My uncle,’ she said bitterly, 'God knows what made him just absolutely love you.’ Nausea roiled within you, a darker nightmare, trying to make itself known. 'My sister,’ she motioned to Yuna, 'still loves you, my parents…’ she offered a sad smile to the floor, her next words came out in a whisper, 'my parents are dead y/n.’
She looked up at you, her eyes accusing. 'They’re dead! I have no one. I only have me. Because of you!’
For the first time, in a long time, you almost felt remorse at pushing your parents out of your life. Almost. They were alive and well, but you centralized yourself in a maze that would take nothing but time to navigate and lead to sheer dissatisfaction. You never took their calls. You barely answered texts. Any advice you required from your father, any document requiring his signature was purely through conference call in actual professional meetings, and email. Ria could handle your father just fine, and perfected the skill so you had the privilege to dodge him.
You even kept your mom at arm’s length.
Not to say they hadn’t tried to reach out, to meet, to make things right, but you weren’t ready. You might never be ready.
Even Helen, for all the truth behind her temper, couldn’t make you regret your choices.
The canary was missing from its gilded golden cage, its small door wide open. It would remain that way.
'The only reason,’ Yuna stirred beside you, 'you are alone…’ she turned to face her sister fully, 'is because you are selfish, Helen.
Y/n has never told you no. When we were kids, she never only asked for me. She’s always included you. She’s never been anyone but herself… and yet you have hated her.’ Yuna’s tone was laced with contempt, 'You never gave her a chance.’
You resisted the urge to butt in. It was true that you captured more than your fair share of Yuna’s time, it was also true that you had tolerated Helen’s presence. It wasn’t mean or rude. Your energies didn’t gel, didn’t see eye to eye, couldn’t shake hands. That happened in life. But you had never asked Yuna to distance herself, or choose. You never would. Even now, you were willing to make sure Yuna stayed with her sister.
’…ried to distance her from you. I had to hang out with her and not you. I could not have you whining, and brooding and hating one of the people that’s always been there for me. In front of me.’
'What about me? What about me!’ Helen pointed to herself, 'As soon as I was out of the picture… I was out of the fucking picture, Yuna. You had no time for me. You didn’t even make the effort to say, “Hey Helen, come join us”.'
Helen looked less polished than usual. Her hair was unkempt. Her make-up, subpar, your internal monologue commented, as you took her in. Her eyes had a twinge of purple peeking out, as if she wasn’t getting enough sleep. Before you could berate yourself for being so callous as she had a breakdown in front of you, she cracked. 'That, I could have understood. You created a space between her,’ you tried not to make a face as she pointed to you, 'and me. That was fine. But every time we were together… we couldn’t talk. You shut me out. As if the best secrets were for y/n, as if your best moments and your memories were y/n’s first. Y/n this. Y/n that. I asked y/n and she said this. Y/n. Y/n. Y/n! She took my fucking place!’ Helen pointed to herself. 'I was supposed to be the Maid of Honor. Me!’
'I told you, you could have it.’ It was a long shot. It wouldn’t fix anything. It wouldn’t take back all the years of personal vendetta she seemed to have against you. And as important as the role was to you, and to Yuna, you would give anything to fix this.
It also remained that you didn’t want to be hated so badly. Other people were other people, but for someone that had known you for years, to hate you, to this extent…
Helen squeezed her eyes shut as if the very sound of your voice would set her off. 'I don’t need your pity.’
Emotion clogged your throat, needing her to see that you had never meant for any of this, that pushing her out of Yuna’s life was never a plan and you hadn’t actually stolen her twin from her. 'If it will make you come to the wedding, I do not mind stepping aside.’
'No.’ Yuna squeezed my wrist. 'The Maid of Honor, is the bride’s choice. It’s not the sister or the best friend or the closest one, it’s the person they need the most in one of the happiest moments of their lives. And that is you, y/n.’ You sucked in a deep breath, unable to look at her, knowing if you even glanced her way, you would both start crying.
Instead you cleared your throat, and tamped down the panic you felt as the situation got more out of control. 'I can’t take back anything, Helen. Truly, I don’t know when this all started.’
'Of course, play dumb.’
You clenched your teeth. 'I don’t. As far as I knew, we were all friends, and then we weren’t. But now that I know, now that we know, it’s me and my presence, let’s start fresh.’ You implored her, trying your best to get through to her, honestly you wondered if a slap would wake her the fuck up. 'Yuna is leaving, Helen. She’s leaving. She won’t be near me for quite a while. You need to be there for her wedding and give her a proper goodbye.’
'Don’t you dare fucking tell me what to do,’ she charged at you, 'Don’t make it look like this is all my fault, that I need to be the bigger person.’
'Heli, stop it!’ Yuna surged forward and pushed her back. 'Just stop.’
'You’re always defending her!'
'And I always will! Because she has always put me above everything.’ Yuna’s voice broke. 'She picks up my phone calls and comes over when I don’t ask her to. Y/n sits down with me when I’m sad or fucked up or having a bad day. Y/n picks me up off the floor and dusts me off to move on. Y/n listens and fights and is never afraid to be honest with me. Helen, y/n does not make plans with me, y/n moves her plans around me, if necessary. I would do the same. That is how important she is. So between you and her…’ Yuna squeezed your hand, placing everything into her next words, ’it will always be her.’
Helen was dumbstruck. The last few years were the last few years, but this moment, this declaration – it devastated her.
You couldn’t see Yuna’s face, but you had a good idea of her level of determination from how sure she sounded. No remorse. No regrets.
'You’re my sister.’ Helen whispered. 'You’re my twin.’ Her face twisted into a mask of cruelty, her eyes betrayed her anguish, 'Yuna, I’m blood!’
‘Yuna –,’ you tugged on her hand to stop her from putting any more nails in the coffin.
'Blood has never determined family.’ You closed your eyes against Yuna’s statement. There was no coming back from this.
'I have always given you the benefit of the doubt, Heli. But y/n has never given you a reason to hate her. You just have. And then you built on it and built on it and generalized and harbored so much of these negative feelings. But I have given you enough compassion… at some point, it’s your character… and I can’t deal with it anymore.’ She sniffed and turned her nose to the floor. ‘I mean, I offered you a muffin and now they’re on the floor.’ A pause, then a painful whisper. ’Says a lot.’
The tension was thick, almost suffocating, but you couldn’t run, you couldn’t speak, you couldn’t stop her either.
'You are still my sister. You are still invited to my wedding.’ Yuna turned away to face the counter behind you. She stretched her arms across it to support herself. ‘I would very much like you there.'
You curled your own arm around one of hers and felt the tension bleed out of her.
Never taking your eyes off Helen, you watched as tears cascaded down her face, the wild panic in her gaze, a person that was well and truly lost. Her lips tightened, and she shook her head before whispering, 'You’ve made your choice.’
Against your better judgment, you wished to hug her, to hold her and reassure her that despite your role in Yuna’s life and how deep it went, she was Yuna’s twin, her sister, always would be.
You resisted the urge to suck in a harsh breath when she met your gaze. 'How does it feel? Princess!’ She spat the word, as if it was a slur. 'How does it feel to have everything?’
She swiped at her tears, removing evidence of her pain and her rage.
You didn’t have everything. More than most, you would admit. But not everything. You wanted to fix this, but how? How?! With no answer, no solution, you let yourself feel the words she threw at you and took full responsibility. It felt heavy, insanely heavy, a certain pressure in your chest as Helen Mei looked at you, as if you had shattered her heart.
'Remember it.’ A chill went up your spine at her tone, all traces of sadness replaced with vehemence. 'Remember the feeling for when you have nothing left.’
You watched her leave and felt a tear roll down your eye at the curse she’d thrown so easily. You wished, if there was a law in the universe that bad things shouldn’t happen to good people, despite the countless individuals that had to go through it to prove it wrong, you wouldn’t be one of them.
———–
Orbit. Anyone would think it a funny name for a nightclub. Anyone that didn’t know the owner, that is. But everyone knew Braelyn.
She was the wild Barbie of her three sisters and made good in her role by managing a thriving nightclub in the middle of the idol circle of Seoul.
Hazlyn, aka Hazey, was the moon, Candelyn, aka Clandy, the Earth and Braelyn, more commonly, Bree, was the sun that the two older sisters orbited.
Kenta looked into all three women when y/n started associating herself with them. A single father, moved to Seoul with his three young daughters, adored them, loved them and left them an equal share of all his money before passing peacefully in his sleep. Despite being foreigners, not born, but raised in the community, the women made their own circles that the elite and the known wanted to be in.
Kenta had to hand it to y/n. Business was business, make or break, but bonds stood firm. She had a knack for earning the handshake and head nods of people with potential, because she exercised an ability her father never could; impartiality. Kim Y/n gave respect to both the doorman and the boss, and it took her very far in her line of work.
In his prime, Sung Y/l/n, would not be caught dead, doing renovations for the “middle class”. High-rise, skyscrapers, towers with glass that shattered light, that was how far he reached – a contradiction to his down to Earth daughter.
But y/n backpedaled when she took over. Kenta could hear her now, “the bigger picture can only be done one portion at a time”. Four years and three renovations later, renovations that y/n quoted for less than half her actual price, Kim Y/n had three trusted, powerful women in her corner, should a favor ever need to be called.
Hazey’s Bar, Clandy’s Cafe, Bree’s Orbit, all regulars for the rich and famous. It helped that the locations lived up to their names.
The bar was quiet, steady, a night cap, a couple of stories, a way to look back or contemplate. The cafe was the day, collecting snippets of people’s daily lives and routines, short conversations and the before or after, for work headaches and hard days. The nightclub was where the memories were made, reckless abandon, emotions spilling over quite literally, and housing a number of regrets that led a person to the bar a couple roads away.
It shouldn’t seem that deep. It already was.
As Kenta walked through the empty dance floor, a contrast to the sea of bodies that usually riddled it, he couldn’t help admiring the handiwork of his charge.
Y/n was no copycat. No one he knew would add textured wallpaper in a deep burgundy and pair it with black trimmings. It would seem gaudy… and yet. The overhead lights, blue and white, danced across the skeleton of the black roof trusses and exposed scaffolding painted the same color. She had no fear in showcasing her originality and she had a better understanding of people’s energies than she gave herself credit for. The nightclub screamed Braelyn – a dark Barbie that would stab with her stiletto as easily as she would walk the runway with it.
Y/n wasn’t psychic. But Kenta had learned the hard way to trust y/n’s gut and her receptiveness to energy.
At a meeting when she was eighteen, and he wasn’t her designated bodyguard, y/n had to meet one of her fathers old clients, a woman in her late forties that owned several upscale salons and make-up artists that were well sought after. Y/n usually showed respect. She did just that, save for the furrowed brow and the fidgety fingers, y/n addressed the lady with utmost civility.
Kenta and y/n had their cordial interactions, and had seen each other on a daily basis for at least a year till that meeting. Of course he asked his boss’s daughter if something was wrong when it was adjourned.
Y/n merely shrugged, and muttered “she feels… off”. She left straight after. Upon further inspection, by his own means that Kenta would never admit to having access to, the woman had an appetite for young boys. A sickening, downgraded version of Mrs. Robinson, in Kenta’s opinion.
Right then, despite the nine year gap between them, Kenta learned to trust y/n more.
'Which VIP room did y/n book?’ Huru flanked Kenta, as they walked through the empty club, courtesy of the owner who was just upstairs in her office.
Bree would cause a rebellion over the type of vodka that should be used in any Blue Curaçao cocktail, but she would never question security, especially for her high-end clients.
Y/n happened to be a paying friend, she was as high-end as it got, before anyone made it to the sister circle.
'VIP 3.’ Kenta pointed it out. 'It’s the one on the far end, at the edge of the stage, where the DJ will set up tonight.’
'Isn’t that too loud?'
Kenta’s lip curved upwards on the right. 'They’re going to be too drunk to care.’ Settling back into his signature poker face, Kenta decided to pry. 'Why are you here?’
Kenta did these alone. He had no actual reason to believe anyone from Bree’s staff or Bree herself, would invade Yuna or Y/n’s privacy, but he could never be too careful. He would do a necessary check of the room, liaise with Orbit’s security for the night, who would clock in anytime after 3pm to do their rounds, and confer with his team. He would touch all bases.
'Scoping out the area.’ Huru glanced up to the second floor and further. The ceiling was in the shape of a pyramid, the point at the most central part above the dancefloor. Huru definitely noticed that Bree’s main office sat behind an incline of the stained glass ceiling, a hidden third floor, an easy way to observe. He made no comment about it. 'I’ve never been to this place and I don’t have other jobs lined up.’ He met Kenta’s eyes. 'So why not?’
Kenta let it fly for now. He had a job to do. Entering the room he reminded himself to be thorough considering one of his favorite human’s and the love of his life would be partying where he stood. And he’d be damned if he didn’t keep them safe.
It was pretty standard, except for the pink… everything. The couches were pink. The champagne flutes and ice bucket were pink. The fucking bottles of alcohol lining the bar on the left, pink only. He almost smirked at the face y/n would make as she sipped on any of the pink stuff. Y/n was by far the most tomboyish person he’d ever met, and yet she pulled off the ice-queen thing perfectly. He smiled inwardly. She was anything but.
A sudden wave of protectiveness ensnared him. He would rather be on the job tonight. But his best men were adamant about him doing a bachelor party and he would not refuse his new found family.
It would be fine. His team would take over, and he would trust them. Zwahn, Yeon, Kiri, Xan, and Yoshi would lead. He’d sent Jinx back into training to get her ass handed to her by Sylo.
Xan was the most inexperienced and the youngest, but he’d be in the club, as the playboy looking for a good fuck. Zwahn was already filling in for a bouncer; Yeon by his side. Kiri would be bartending, and Yoshi would do what Kenta did, make sure everyone was in place. Kenta sipped water that looked like vodka in settings like these and chose the top floors to scope out everyone’s position. It was easy for him to be eyes and ears. He liked it. More importantly, Yoshi was at home in Kenta’s shadow.
Although…Kenta spared a side glance to the other male he had grown to afford a significant amount of trust, Huru had asked y/n for Kenta’s position already.
If recent encounters were anything to judge by, Kenta was almost sure, y/n would agree to it.
It’s not that he was against the idea. Huru by all means, could handle y/n’s protection. He had a black belt in taekwondo, knew his weapons on sight and could watch people without getting antsy. But Kenta had never just protected y/n.
Y/n at eighteen, was a quiet woman that worked hard with her head down and listened to her father. Y/n, at nineteen, because of a man drunk on power, had to become a fully grown mature woman, robbed of the perks a young adult life had to offer. Y/n at twenty something took over said father. Y/n by herself, ate less, barely had any social interaction outside of work and lost herself. Kenta forced food toward her when she forgot to eat or didn’t eat. Kenta carried y/n from her office chair to the couch and covered her with a throw blanket when she fell asleep at her desk. Kenta pulled y/n out of the crowds and hid her from view when she had a panic attack. He knew about Namjoon first. He knew about Hoseok first. He knew her favorite foods and her countless ill-timed reactions, her temper tantrums, any health problems, her past, her parents, her company growth, Kenta was not just a bodyguard and Kenta did not have a problem with another bodyguard.
He had a problem with anyone, including Huru, ever taking his place with y/n.
It was an immature thought, an insecure one. So he would assure himself. Regardless of who she picked or how many, the minute he wanted back in, she would allow it.
That was not at the forefront of his concerns, though. Kenta especially had a problem with Huru learning y/n’s secrets and about her mindless babbling, and her incoherent sentences when she cried at the drop of a hat. But not because Huru, robot-like as he was, wouldn’t react in the correct manner or show sympathy, of course there was that minor detail, but really, Huru paid too much attention to y/n. Huru took to y/n. Huru had never taken to anyone.
Y/n would never cheat, but temptation was a bitch and Huru cared a little too much than Kenta was comfortable with. Most importantly, though he would never admit it, he didn’t want anyone seeing y/n that vulnerable and developing a need to protect her. He knew firsthand.
‘I’m not keen on broaching this subject, but I have to.’ Kenta started his search on the lining of the door frame. ‘Why are you so invested in y/n?’
Huru averted his gaze, making his way to the opposite end of the room. Avoiding eye contact. Hmm. Probably one of the most human things he’d done today. Kenta wasn’t even sure the man’s lungs took a breath without controlled precision.
‘I –,’
‘Anddon’t bullshit me.’ Kenta cut him off when he started. 'I know you better than you think I do.’
And skirting around the truth did absolutely fuckall.
Kenta may have been the subordinate within the organization once upon a time, but this was his world now.
They had a mini stare down before Huru sighed, his body going lax. ‘She’s… intriguing.’
Huru and Kenta were mismatched. Kenta got into Sylo’s company the same year Huru branched out on his own. Huru was two years his senior and taught Kenta the ins and outs till he said his goodbyes. The only reason they actually got along, was because of their aversion to people and kissing ass.
‘As far as I know, no one, nothing, has ever intrigued you.’ Of course, in the beginning, Kenta didn’t take kindly to Huru’s superiority, and Huru wanted to smack Kenta upside the head for his disrespect.
Yuna had fun hearing the stories, a true writer in her own right, took crib notes of their original characters and character development. Kenta would have to keep an eye out for a bodyguard script some time in the future.
Huru’s lips curved slightly on one end, it was as close to a smirk as he’d get. ‘Can you blame me?’ As they circled each other in the room, and went about their business, it seemed incidental, but both men out of habit kept their backs away from each other, like two alphas seconds away from pouncing. ‘Considering how protective you are, trying to ask me something without actually asking… you understand that she’s worth the time. You care.’
‘She is important.’ Kenta agreed. He would never refute the simple fact. He got on his knees to check underneath the inside of the bar, and around the many shades of pink bottles.
‘She’s trouble and very stubborn.’
Kenta fought the urge to smile, but not from amusement. He just knew damn well how much trouble she could be. ‘She’s gotten under your skin.’
Kenta immediately scowled in disapproval after he said the words. Huru was dangerous and his controlling nature was a front for a dark obsession if ever he had one. He wouldn’t presume anything yet, but it was concerning that Huru didn’t bother to deny or hide it. ‘Regardless, I’m finding it hard to fathom your growing interest in her, going as far as to offer yourself up for my position.’
Huru liked the shadows, flexible ties or none at all. It’s why he traveled, moved coast to coast, and blended in. Being Kim Y/n’s bodyguard, was the opposite of blending in. It was also an indication of how far Huru’s fixation went. But how far was he willing to go, before giving up?
‘Am I overstepping?’
‘With me, no.’ Kenta lied. Huru didn’t need to know that. They were not so close that Kenta would confess his fear of losing his place with y/n. 'But I believe, with your skill and experience… It’s a downgrade.’ Truth be told, they weren’t close. In their line of work trust was akin to gold; Kenta and Huru knew each other’s abilities. Huru was an expert sniper, Kenta was specialist in hand-to-hand combat, one preferred guns, the other knives, should an intruder walk in, they would be able to handle him without words. That was as close as it got.
However,’ Kenta straightened up. 'You overstepped when you insulted the leader in front of his band and his wife.’
Jungkook, usually the most complacent of all seven members, was lethal in his curiosity. Huru, the PI, was already a known and unspoken, undesirable individual. Namjoon was Alpha. His pack, especially the most loyal, wouldn’t take kindly to any threat of their Alpha.
And so the youngest, instead of cornering y/n or comforting his leader hyung, came after Kenta, the source. The maknae was smarter and sharper than he was given credit for. He had no qualms in giving Kenta a play by play, and voicing his concerns over the interactions he’d witnessed within the board room.
Huru shot Kenta a dark look. ‘The self-righteous leader doesn’t appreciate what he has.’
‘And you feel you will?’ Kenta couldn’t keep the challenge out of his voice. He felt a twinge of annoyance at the jab and felt protective over y/n and her relationship. Kim Namjoon was not under the impression that he was superior by any means, unless he was playing his part of RM.
'Don’t accuse me. I haven’t pursued her. But, make no mistake, Kenta, my woman, whoever she may be… is mine, I wouldn’t cheat on her.'
Well… fuck.
Huru and Kenta were both beyond beating around the bush and beyond lies. But hearing a confirmation made Kenta wary. Huru might actually like, y/n.
As Huru pulled up the blueprint of the club on his phone, Kenta sidled up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘I trust y/n. But she is vulnerable, right now. The last thing anyone needs is a picture of what “can be”.’
Huru pinned him with a look. ‘At least, you agree I would treat her better.'
Kenta wanted to dispute him, but the fact remained, that Namjoon had cheated on her. Any defense against it would be a waste of time.
Sensing Kenta’s uneasiness, Huru dropped the eye contact once more and Kenta’s hand fell away. 'I won’t make her cheat on her husband Kenta. If you didn’t already know, she has stars in her eyes for the leader.’
Kenta frowned, not only at the condescension laced in the two words. ‘It’s that deep.’ Somehow a statement and a question.
‘Truthfully, no.’ Huru blinked. 'But she has a nice smile. And she makes me pause.’ a shadow fell over his features. 'It’s disconcerting.'
Kenta could imagine it was. Yuna did that to him. Sure, he smiled at the guys, y/n especially, he was himself with them. But it only happened over time, over experiences and memories and conversations. With Yuna, Kenta had never been able to get a good grip on his emotions. She caused a tick in his jaw, and his eye twitched under his dark sunglasses when she went above and beyond to piss him off. Like her best friend, Yuna didn’t do well with orders. And unlike y/n, who stayed away from men, Yuna got the blood raging under Kentas skin, to knock the teeth out of the mouth of every fucking prick she dated and do even worse to the sleazebags in the entertainment industry that tried to get into her panties.
Shelving his fury at past encounters that still enraged him, he could admit to himself that he wanted her. Every part of every minute, every day. He wanted to kiss Yuna and claim her and protect her in any way he could. Yuna was fucking frustrating and loud, she loved pink and shopping and she had high standards. She didn’t keep up an outward persona like y/n. What you see, is what you get. If she hated a cupcake, she would frown, if she loved a series she’d be content, if Yuna loved, she loved with all her heart, and if she hated, she had no trouble in making it known.
Kenta had exercised his emotions for the better part of his life, but Yuna steamrolled those fortified walls, causing him to feel something fierce, and he still didn’t know how to navigate the waters. He didn’t know how to be… normal. Hell, the idea of standing at the foot of that aisle in a tailored suit and polished shoes, and preparing for a waltz of all things, it all almost had him bolting to the hills when he had never considered it an option before. But he wanted Yuna. So he would do it all. He would figure it out. He would learn how to be a husband and someday a great father. He would leave his old life behind and transition to something new.
'Any other day, I would be very happy for you. But not, y/n.’ He was sincere in both his support and his underlying threat.
'Your disapproval is so heavy, Kenta.’ Huru’s voice dripped with sarcasm. ‘You shouldn’t be worrying about such things when you’re getting married in a day.’
Kenta ignored him. Everyone underestimated his role in Y/n’s life – they learned the hard way. Taking Huru’s phone, he swiped on the blueprints of the club and refreshed his memory, noting the entrances and emergency exits. He already had a visual on where his team would be positioned.
He pulled out his own phone to text his team… and stopped. Yoshi would be leading sooner rather than later. It would be prudent to allow him to take the lead.
'What if she’s not happy anymore, Ken?’ Kenta lifted his head to find Huru at the bar, a bottle of vodka that looked entirely too expensive to open in his hand. 'What then?'
Huru still hadn’t made eye contact for more than a couple of seconds. Kenta relied on eye contact. For once, he was unsure of Huru and his line of thinking, which made foreshadowing his actions impossible. 'Doesn’t mean you will make her happy.'
'You don’t know that.'
Kenta bristled. Huru was asking to get punched. 'I do know.’ He did. Without a doubt. 'I know y/n. I know she only has eyes for Namjoon.’ Done with the bullshit, Kenta bypassed the tension and set the record straight. 'She gives you time of day, because y/n likes puzzles. Her foundation of Kim Y/n is built on emotion. So your robot-like nature makes her want to poke, till you snap your teeth at her. She is being friendly and trusting because she trusts me. Do not break that trust. Do not make me regret ever including you in her life. You are not Kim Namjoon, Huru. You cannot ever overstep with Kim Y/n. He is her heart. He is a part of her.’
Huru stepped up to him. 'I have no intention of shaming you. You can trust me to take care of her. I will. I am capable of protecting her.’
'That’s up to her to choose.’
‘Now, whose bullshitting?’ Huru called him out. ‘She would say yes or no, depending on your decision.’
Damn straight.
‘Maybe,’ Kenta neither confirmed or denied it. ’But know this, she will stay in her marriage and she will only be whole with Namjoon. She’s forgiven him… It’s only a matter of time that they continue to build on an already solid foundation. All that said, there doesn’t seem to be any room for you in that picture. So if you do anything to hurt her emotionally, if you do anything to fuck with her mentally…’
Kenta didn’t finish his sentence. Truly, he didn’t know what he would do. But it would be a bloodbath if Huru and Kenta ever came to blows. And in any battlefield he would be on the side of his family. The band. Namjoon. Hoseok. Yuna. Y/n.
‘You think so little of me.’
Huru didn’t sound offended. Kenta would be if the roles were reversed, but the stakes were too high for him to care. Anything Kim Y/n related was personal. ‘A bodyguard’s role is to protect, defend and evacuate,’ Kenta stood at his full height and let Huru read him loud and clear, ‘you are one wrong word away from identifying yourself as a threat.’
Huru’s grip on the bottle tightened, before he reined himself in. 'That’s that then.’ Huru turned on his heel and set the bottle down, and spent more than a few seconds, turning the label to face the front. 'Ken,’ he released a pent-up breath. 'I may be wrong. But… from what I gather about your ice-queen and the way she thinks … she’s forgiven her husband, as you say…but…’ The stark honesty in Huru’s gaze when he lifted his head and his words thereafter, turned the blood in Kenta’s veins to ice. 'Will she be able to forgive herself for staying?’
Summary - You would never expect it really. He’s doting. He’s sweet. He’s hardworking. But he’s forgotten his morals. Suspecting it is one thing, but when he confirms it, will you stay or walk away.
Warning - Cheating(Aftermath); Borderline Smut;
Word Count - 4.6k
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
During the course of the day, tensions settled somewhat since the meeting that morning. Having a wedding around the corner, being deep in planning and helping out, as well as feeling the aftereffects of the tempest of y/n and Namjoon’s relationship, Jin made the decision to have a huge supper at the dorm.
When ordering out, it was ideal to get food from one location. But since the band felt more like a band after the meeting earlier, Jin decided everyone should get their preference.
Chaos ensued during the decision making with seven different menus going around the room, but eventually Jin and Namjoon got everyone’s orders and had food on its way from no less than four restaurants.
Going their separate ways for the moment, Namjoon currently hovered near the entrance of the dorm with Jimin across from him. God knows how he was left to do collections, when he was the klutz.
‘How likely is it for a fashion emergency to happen at the wedding?’
Namjoon looked up from his phone. He was aimlessly scrolling through his texts and watching the time tick by. Secretly, he hoped the pizzas that were ordered would be delivered after thirty minutes, so they could get it free.
Y/n would make fun of him for being a millionaire and yet biding his time for free pizza, but old habits die hard and some things help keep a person grounded. For some it was memories that backtracked to the days ago where the position and lifestyle and financial standing was difficult, for some it was reminding themselves to save for a rainy day, like a trauma response to deal with the guilt of overspending, for some, like Namjoon, it was the Earth and the rain and y/n and a free pizza.
Namjoon had no doubt in his mind that Jin had his timer on his watch set as well.
'Well, the odds are pretty slim, considering how meticulous y/n and Yuna are about their clothing and that you and Tae will be handling the final touches of everyone’s outfits and approving before we leave our respective rooms.’ Namjoon watched Jimin scarf down his alcohol in one gulp as if it was water, 'but then again, anything can happen.’
Jimin shook his head, a frown playing on his features. 'I feel a bit useless. We just have the outfits to cover.’ He looked at Namjoon pointedly. 'Which, of course, is important. But once the ceremony is going on, and after, what then?’
Namjoon regarded his dongsaeng for a minute. He knew why y/n kept the soulmates free. They were a wild card and a soothing presence, Taehyung and Jimin, in that order. Which meant they could stand in, handle, inform, and save any situation, any issue, any problem that made itself known.
Jimin could calm anyone down, clear a fight, provide clarity, anything the wedding party would require. Taehyung was a charmer, he would handle guests, he would maneuver his way through the technical roles such as the photography and the music and still keep up a playful ruse.
'I think y/n is using you both as safety nets, should anything happen.’ Namjoon had no qualms in saying it out loud. 'She relies and trusts the both of you.’
Jimin grimaced. 'Hyung, I’m drinking right now. You and I both know, I don’t need a reason to be emotional.’
'Kinda late for that considering how the day has gone.’ Namjoon regarded himself and shook his head at the memories. 'I need a drink or two myself.’
'Don’t berate yourself, hyung.’ Jimin picked his glass up, and held it against the light, 'I’ll tell on you.’
Namjoon did not want that. He wasn’t a pussy. But y/n was a force to be reckoned with, and he’d already used his quota of overruling her for the day. 'It just feels premature.’
Neither of them needed to clarify what the leader was talking about.
'It’s life. Whatever has to happen next, will happen. We just have to… control our emotions. I wish I could switch mine off.’ Jimin added as an afterthought.
'Hey,’ Namjoon straightened his posture, 'emotions have always been your strength.’
'Yeah,’ Jimin’s expression dulled, despite the pep his alcohol should have provided. 'Things have been wack these days, I just want to drink and eat good food, and call it a night.’
Namjoon felt a crease from between his eyebrows. 'What’s the matter with you?’ Somehow this felt less about the band and more about Jimin. Even during the meeting, he wasn’t his usual, opinionated self.
Besides the meeting, Jimin didn’t hide his feelings, nor did he talk about them as if they were a hindrance. He was the most emotional of all the members. Clearly, something else was going on for the male to be so wound up.
'Nothing,’ his dongsaeng, shrugged, but he didn’t look Namjoon in the eye. A clear lie.
'Come on, Chim,’ Namjoon urged, 'you can talk to me.’
Come to think of it, Jimin was missing his sass and his attitude. It was that extra pop in his presence that captured attention and kept him on the fence of both his soft and hard personalities.
But tonight, Jimin’s bags showed under his eyes, he looked… dare Namjoon think the word, but Jimin looked thin, and somehow, if it made any sense to anyone at all, Jimin looked older, like a male in his late twenties, no longer Namjoon’s softest maknae.
No. This was a man that had something going on. That had nothing to do with any of his brothers.
Jimin opened his mouth to answer when – 'Namjoon,’ y/n called from above them, as she leaned over the balustrade, 'a minute please.’
'I’ll be up in a sec,’ Namjoon instinctively called back.
Wait. This was it… wasn’t it. This was what he did all the time. Y/n always had to wait, had to come second, had to be patient.
When y/n called or needed something, Namjoon didn’t always drop everything and leave. And she didn’t complain, nor did she ask for explanations.
This was why there was insecurity in her heart.
But, he looked at Jimin, his dongsaeng, who he’d just had a big fight with and was going to confide in Namjoon…
As if making a decision for his hyung, Jimin motioned to y/n with his empty glass, Jimin mouthed the word 'Later.’
Namjoon hesitated, 'Are you sure?’
A curt nod. 'Later. Promise.’
Namjoon was not convinced but he filed a reminder in his brain to circle back to Jimin once the night was over.
He trudged up the stairs to where y/n entered the home gym, through the door next to Jungkook’s.
When he walked in, y/n was pacing and immediately his adrenaline skyrocketed. He eyed her form, noting her hair, no marks, no physical hurt, no objects around her were broken, that was good… but something was clearly wrong.
But he didn’t show his anxiety. He didn’t dare show it. This was a response he’d have to handle.
For all he knew, she could be stressed about the wedding or Yuna or really anything in the world, it didn’t mean she was pissed at him, or that she was leaving him.
He shut the door behind him and closed his eyes for a second. Breathe, Namjoon. Breathe.
He cleared his throat and turned around to face his wife, 'Y/n?’
She stopped pacing, crossed her arms and nodded her head slowly, as if putting pieces together in her brain. That was nothelping.He immediately knew he did something wrong. But what?
'So,’well fuck that tone, 'I had to visit the office this morning.’ She motioned to him, 'as you know.’
He nodded, his eyes wide and biding the seconds through the suspense in the air.
'You see, Ria got some feedback…’ she narrowed her eyes, 'on the materials I was compensated for, some time ago,’ her tongue poked her cheek, 'and apparently these suppliers were visited by lawyers, big-shot, no-nonsense kinda lawyers.’ Fuck. Double fuck.
She walked slowly toward him and he resisted the urge to step back as her tone grazed over his body like a velvet cover on a sharp-edged knife. 'Do you think it’s fair… that you didn’t tell me about this?’
He wouldn’t bother lying. He wouldn’t lie to her. He didn’t do it when he cheated. He wouldn’t do it over something like this. 'We weren’t talking y/n.’
She threw her hands up in the air. 'So you’re gonna fight my battles for me. Like what,’ she narrowed her eyes, 'some damsel in distress.’ She spat the words, as if it was the biggest insult.
'It’s not like that!’ He protested. Fuck no. He didn’t like it when she was upset, but he would never ever disrespect her independence. 'They fucked up your order, I wanted to get your money back. That’s it.’
She ran her fingers through her hair, looking away from him and back. 'I would have taken the loss Namjoon. I didn’t ask for you to step in. You’ve never overstepped like this before.’ Her jaw clenched, as if reigning in her emotions.
He knew of the line she spoke of. He never meddled with the affairs of her company, just like she held her tongue about his idol life until they were behind closed doors. But he wouldn’t back down.
'You were already stressed out about me, y/n,’ he pointed to himself, 'I wanted to help and I knew you wouldn’t have let me.’
'So instead of offering help, you went behind my back instead?’ She spread her arms wide.
Oh. Stones. They were throwing stones. Okay. Unable to help himself he replied through his teeth. 'The same way you spoke to Heeyoung without informing me.’
A momentary pause. 'That has nothing to do with this.’
'Like hell! It’s the same situation.’ He stalked her this time. 'I wanted to save you without you knowing and I did. You wanted to protect our family without me knowing and you did.’
'Namjoon –,’ she moved back, trying to maintain distance from him.
He knew why. He was her kryptonite. He was always her kryptonite. His scent. His face. His presence. His cock. The unwavering, ice queen melted only with him. And he fucking loved it. She knew, she knew, he would always give as good as he got from her. But he was not in a mood to play. Not yet.
'Are you sure this is about the materials?’ He backed her against the wall and placed a hand above her head.
'What?’ Her eyes flashed. Fuck. He would never get over her. He towered her, and yet she tipped, her chin up, relentless and unyielding.
He got his cock and the brain cells connected to it under control somehow. 'Are you not mad about the article or about the discussion earlier and you’re just projecting?’
'Don’t fucking discount the validity of my feelings!’ A hard shove from her took him by surprise, but he didn’t go far. 'I’ve told you enough times that I am not mad about the article. And the decision about Maiya is done.’ She made a cut off motion with her hand.
'I feel like you’re lying.’ He believed her. He believed she believed what she was saying. But after the breakdown she’d had and the shortcomings he’d realized, he would rather make sure. And the only way to get anything out of y/n when she was in denial, was by pushing her.
It wasn’t ideal. It wasn’t very healthy either. But he refused to go backwards.
'Oh for fucks sake!’ She grabbed onto his lapels and tried to bring herself to his height pushing herself to her tiptoes. 'Namjoon,’ she softened her tone, his name a caress, 'the party was fake. Everything you did… was fake. You told me. Jin told me. Yoongi told me. The maknaes told me. Even Kenta vouched for you, that the whole thing was fake. And I kinda knew.’ Tired, she sat back on her heels and looked away.
'But Maiya wasn’t fake. I was mad about Maiya and I hated that article because I know it wasn’t fake, she actually had your cock in her mouth and she flaunted it.’
She pulled away from him, and faced the window on her right. She hugged herself as she watched the city lights below her.
'You’re an idol Namjoon. You’re a freaking loved idol. Some women are actually crazy enough to kill me to make sure you’re available for the off chance that you could fall for them. There’s not much that can scare you about the media after six years. So the article.’ She clicked her tongue, much like his Yoongi hyung would, after a nonsense statement, 'sand through my hand.’
Meaning it had already fallen through the cracks of her fingers and would not be picked up again.
His hands found her hips, and pulled her body flush against him. One, because he knew her quick fuse was almost out, and two, because he couldn’t bear to not hold her in his arms. As far as he knew, she was in his imagination, a figment, a dream he never wanted to wake up from.
'I’m sorry, for accusing you.’ He placed a chaste peck on her exposed shoulder. 'I’m just rattled. I’m just,’ he closed his eyes ‘… Fuck!’
He hid his face in her hair. How did he explain? That he was being himself, as he was before the cheating, but still didn’t know if he was saying the right things, doing the right things, making it worse, pushing her away…
He felt her turn in his hold and placed gentle fingers on his nape. 'Scared,’ she whispered against his lips, when he opened his eyes to look at her. 'I know. I caused this. And I’m sorry it’s become this voice in your head.’ She placed her forehead against his jaw, 'but I am telling the truth. I am not mad about that article. Our family discussed things today… and made a choice. I have to accept that, even if it breaks my heart.’
He inhaled her scent, and reveled in her touch, she held herself to him, she held him to the Earth.
'We have the weight of our world on our shoulders, Joon. If I’m not honest with you, especially about my feelings, all of this is for nothing.’
He flexed his hand on her hip, enjoying the feel of her, the proximity, she responded by getting closer. 'I’m sorry for going to see Heeyoung behind your back.’
'I’m sorry for threatening your suppliers behind yours.’ His fingers grazed the edge of her waistline, the exposed skin forming tiny bumps of goose flesh.
'Oreos?’ She moved her head back and forth, brushing her hair against his jawline.
'Coffee.’ He replied instantly, feeling… safe and somehow feeling… claimed.
He felt her fingers lock behind his neck and he pulled her flush against him.
'So…’ she lifted her head, 'how much did it cost to get the studio lawyers to handle the legalities?’
He almost smiled at her stubbornness. 'If I don’t tell you, you’ll phone Ji-ho and compensate me accordingly anyway.’
She shook her head. ‘Arem will.’
Hmm. 'Arem paying RM.’ He snorted at the homophone and conceded. 'I’ll get you the figures.’
She tilted her head to the side and smirked at him.
'What?’ He brushed his lips against her forehead, curious to know what was going through his head.
'RM. Real Me.’
He scrunched his eyebrows. 'What about it?’
'I mean, it could stand for… other things.’
'Like?’
Her hand moved to cup his cheek, and she tipped up her head to speak against his lips.
'I feel it’s more like… Rail Me.’
He closed his eyes and let out a groan. 'I should get sainthood for having any sort of willpower against you.’
She peppered kisses along his jaw, ’… if you didn’t have willpower… what would you do?’
His hand splayed across her back, keeping her flush against him, his other hand cupped her ass. 'Are we really doing this?’ He growled. 'After our conversation yesterday? Are you sure? You have to be sure.’
'I am.’
He searched her face for any indication, anything at all, that refuted her consent.
'Y/n…’ He breathed.
'No. No more waiting. I’m doing what you asked.’
He wanted to listen to her, he wanted her, but he would not get this wrong, 'I don’t think you’re ready to sleep with me again, baby.’
'But that,’ she nipped at him, 'is up to me. Right?’
Her bite, as light as it was, made its way straight to his cock and he answered with it in mind. 'Right.’
Not waiting for any further explanation, she continued, 'So tell me, what would you do if you didn’t have willpower.’
He pressed his hand to the glass behind her and pushed her up against it, caging her in. A masculine part of him stretched languidly at his actions, that part of him watching, and waiting, and willing for more. 'I can’t hold back, y/n,’ he ground out, 'it’s been too long without you…’
'Namjoon.’ Her hands moved to tug on his hair. ‘What would you do to me?’
His fingers curled around her nape, and he responded with the two words that started this. 'I’d rail you.’
Unphased, she moved her hands to his chest, enjoying the feel of him, 'Jin will not be very happy,’ she rubbed her cheek on his jaw, 'with us doing it on the gym floor.’ Pulling back, she bit her lip, aiming to tease, and succeeding. 'Think of his carpets.’
'The carpets and my hyung,’ he hissed, 'are the last things on my mind… when you’re biting your lip the way you are.’
'You don’t play fair, either.’ He felt her leg curl around his calf. 'Do you have any idea how good you look in black?’
'Don’t throw stones baby,’ his freehand moved to brush a finger across her nipple, 'you’re not using a bra under this shirt.’
He elicited a gasp from her. 'Because I had a sweater over this.’
'… and now your nipples are poking through your shirt. What if I bit one of them right now?’ He whispered.
She clearly didn’t think through her response. 'Why don’t you?’
His eyes snapped to hers. 'Don’t push me. Your dirty mouth has been crossing lines even before today.’ He pulled back, trying to leash his harsh tone, 'I don’t want to hurt you, y/n.’
'Aww, but you said I had pretty lips yesterday.’
His pulse hammered, he could feel he thrum of it, because the fucking sass on this woman. His woman. 'They get you in your fair share of trouble.’ He didn’t bother to bring back the last time they spoke about her lips. Then again, the separation of the two subject matters seemed to help.
'You never had a problem with that.’ Desire coated her gaze, dripping from her words. He wanted to rip her clothes off and make good on his word for baiting him.
'I don’t. It makes sinking my cock into you much more enjoyable.’ He flexed the palm at her head, as it rested against the window. If he wrapped it in her hair, this would be over. She would be on the floor, legs spread and she wouldn’t stop him.
She leaned back, dropping her head against the glass, 'Joon.’ The mental image didn’t help him either, if the tightness in his pants was any indication.
She was so close. Her knee between his legs, just barely reaching his hard on. Her one hand on his chest, the other cradling his jaw.
He rubbed his jaw along her chest, 'Fuck, I miss touching you. And I miss being inside you.’
She shivered as her lips parted and her breaths became uneven.
He pressed an open mouthed kiss on the base of her neck and when her fingers clawed at his back, he felt it through his shirt. Y/n, as independent as she was, enjoyed submitting. That didn’t mean she would ever come quietly.
Biting the juncture between her shoulder and neck to reprimand her, her body arched against him.
'Baby,’ he whispered, trailing his nose along her jaw, and stopping directly in front of her lips. 'Tell me to stop. If this isn’t working and it’s not good for you…. tell me to stop.’
She answered by leaning forward to kiss his forehead and made her way down to his lips.
Her gentleness was just a ruse, he soon found out, when she teased his front with her nails. His hips jerked in a slight reaction.
He growled, ‘You’ll pay for that.’ He made her do exactly that when he moved his head and bit her nipple through her shirt.
Her back arched, inadvertently pushing her breasts closer. 'Namjoon,’ she inhaled sharply at the sting, but she leaned further into him.
‘Say my name just like that.’ Her hands moved to cradle his head as he sucked hard at the nipple that was between his teeth. She moaned this time, and the sound went straight to his throbbing cock.
This was heaven for Namjoon. His brain brought up a surge of memories of his wife being vulnerable and open and pliant, her moans and her screams, calling out his name like a mantra, the tears that were caused by the overwhelming pleasure and love they shared… Only he had that right, only he had that claim, no one was ever allowed to have her like this.
It only just occurred to him when he saw how easily she let him in, that her body would be pining for him as much as he was for her.
And if the rush of sensation would overwhelm her with pleasure, help her fight her thoughts and her demons, he’d be damned if he didn’t do a good job of it.
Truth be told, he wanted to reach between them and shove his fingers into her panties, but he knew she’d be wet and ready, and he would probably go insane. He was a law unto himself when Y/n was involved. His logic, calm, clarity… all out the fucking window.
So he fought for his control as he reached for her neglected nipple and played with the hard bud with his fingers.
She whimpered when he pinched hard and she tightened her hold in retaliation. 'Fucking tease.’
He felt his lips lift at the corners. God, he loved her, and he loved her breasts. He loved her ass and he loved y/n and he loved so many more things, but her breasts in his hands, in his hold, fuck they were so sexy, she was so sexy.
He let go and used both thumbs to rub across both nipples flicking hard.
'Fuck,’ she groaned, letting him do whatever he wanted, as he wanted, but not for long.
Y/n was not an easy lover, she would beg, and whimper, and give and give and keep giving, but she also knew when to bite, when to demand, and when to take when she wanted.
She tugged hard at the strands of his hair so he met her eyes and no one, not even the voice in his mind could dispute the fire and the need in them.
Deep inside of him, elation broke through the haze of arousal, because his lover, his wife, his y/n was coming back to him. This was all her. And she was allhis.
'Catch.’ She hopped, and he instinctively caught both her legs, crossing them over his thighs and pulled her further into the heat of his body.
He took advantage, the feel of her fueling him, and pushed his hard on at the softness between her legs, rocking his hips into hers in a harsh motion. ‘Fuck,’ he groaned. And he did it again when she cried out.
He loved her moans and her cries, it drove him in a way nothing else would in the bedroom. Chasing her pleasure, chasing her release, watching her come undone under, so uniquely satisfying.
As he rocked into her, teasing, their breaths mingling, his cock threatening to burst out of his pants, he realized how far this was going.
If he didn’t stop… but he couldn’t think, he couldn’t think of the logic that they were in the gym, at the dorm, that he was fueling a need they both held back from and craved for so long, there was no stopping if he continued. He ground against her core anyway, and her back arched harshly against the glass, her head thrown back, her eyes closed, completely lost in the sensations he was causing. She chased her high with his ministrations.
When she finally opened her eyes, he saw the frustration, and reveled in it, because y/n was no longer teasing. She was not toying with him. She wanted to cum. He resisted the urge to plaster a feral smirk on his face at the satisfaction.
She wrapped her arms around his back and surged forward, squeezing his backside with her crossed legs, stopping a hair’s breadth away from his lips, her tongue running across the bottom one, 'Kiss me.’
Thank fuck. She was breathless and needy and all his. He wanted to kiss her. To taste her. To mark her –
'Hyung, the food is – AH!’
Her legs dropped from around his waist, as they broke apart. Only his hands on her ass kept her upright against him, or she would have fallen flat when Jimin walked in.
'Fuck!’ He growled out in frustration, as the hyung of the maknae line walked out the same door before it could swing shut.
Namjoon was breathing hard against her forehead, and y/n was in no better shape, her chest rose and fell at a rapid pace, her pupils blown wide with arousal. Neither of them went after Jimin.
The thought only came to him, when the momentary fog faded, whispers of their arousal still dancing around them.
He knew this fear, the apprehension he tried not to show. After dancing around each other for so long, would it be too soon to play a happy couple, would it be weird for any of their family to see them kissing or doing more than the hugs and the hand holding.
The last thing they wanted was to make anyone uncomfortable. ‘Steady?’ he asked her, but it came out more like a rumble.
She licked her bottom lip, a breathless, ‘Yeah,’ leaving her lips and he dropped his hands.
He nodded and swallowed hard, ‘Go on ahead, I, uh… I need a minute.’ He placed a hand on the glass in front of him, sinking into the cool touch at his fingertips as he tried to get his raging hard on under control. They were literally going to have sex in the gym of dorm.
A knowing smirk formed on her lips and she moved completely out of his arms to follow their maknae, but before she could take a step to the door, they heard Jimin from down the hall.
'Jin hyung! Y/n and Namjoon hyung are being ugly in the gym!’
He looked at y/n, at the same time she turned to him and their eye contact was immediate, Matching grins broke out a second later.
Y/n dropped her head onto his chest and he felt the vibrations of her laughter as she relaxed into him again.
He enclosed her in his embrace as warmth bloomed in his chest at the sound, her laughter curling around his heart like a blanket. This was y/n, this was his wife, this was home. The moment may have been ruined. But it would happen again, he’d have a lifetime to prove his love to her.
'Jin hyung’s gonna kill us,’ he murmured against her hair.
'Nope.’ She giggled, unrepentant, 'Jin’s gonna kill you.’
Summary - You would never expect it really. He’s doting. He’s sweet. He’s hardworking. But he’s forgotten his morals. Suspecting it is one thing, but when he confirms it, will you stay or walk away.
Warning - Cheating(Aftermath);
Word Count - 6.3k
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
A/N - Additional Warning - The topics in the following update hit closer to home for some of us than I care to admit. Should the concept of future disbandment be a trigger, I suggest treading carefully.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
‘No, you’re incorrect, you fuck!’ You slammed the damned laptop closed after trying your password three times.
You glared in Jimin’s direction and your hand twitched for the stapler when you heard his loud convulsive laughter from opposite the table.
Instead of following through, you closed your eyes and took a deep breath. 'Jiminie,’ you placed a saccharine smile on your face, still not opening your eyes, 'shut the fuckup.’
For the life of you, you couldn’t remember your password. It was muscle memory for the longest time and the desktop showed up on its own some days. But today, when you actually needed to get into the work laptop, you couldn’t remember your password.
'What do you expect me to do, when you react like that. It’s entertaining to me.’
You frowned, but didn’t reply. A part of you was happy you made him laugh, but your more serious side needed to know what your executive assistant was up your ass about. Ria had been blowing up your phone all morning. The woman was supposed to be enjoying her Christmas holidays away from the snow in the bustle of Mumbai and yet, she was texting you at odd hours of the morning to check your mail.
A part of you felt ashamed, being a business owner meant that work didn’t stop and there should always be an open door for communication, but your last few weeks were a whirlwind to say the least and your first baby, your Arem, was being neglected.
The company was still standing, of course, you had the best staff, a loyal right-hand like Ria and a legal and PR team at the ready, but it deserved more attention when the new year kicked off.
'Close your eyes and do it.’ Jimin suggested from his sunk-in position in the office chair. His back was going to hurt later.
'Yeah, if it’s muscle memory, it’ll work.’ Tae backed him up from his position on the couch, at your right, his finger swiping aimlessly on one of his socials.
The soulmates had accompanied you to work, which wouldn’t even be an option if Ria just fucking told you what the issue was. The problem arose when you realized your work email wasn’t signed in on your phone. So work was the next best bet, because your work email was signed onto the work laptop. Usually you’d sync the devices, but it wasn’t working for some reason. And the only device automatically signed in…at work. Hence, your predicament. Technology was a blessing and a curse.
You threw your hands up in the air. 'I’m not usually like this! You know I keep lists and passwords and I know what’s going on.’
Taehyung shrugged. 'Chill, everyone forgets their passwords.’
You caught Jimin’s gaze and he motioned to the laptop with his eyes. Oh yeah. You were supposed to close your eyes and input your password.
Incorrect.
‘Fuck this!’ you pulled out your phone, having no choice but to get in touch with your IT department head.
Y/n [10.31] : Seo-Hyun, apologies for being an inconvenience on your holiday, but can you give me access to my work laptop please.
Seo-Hyun [10.32] : Do you ever take a break? Also, this is the third time this year I’m overriding on a day off. Did you forget again?
Y/n [10.33] : If you double up, I’ll get your department that expensive cappuccino machine you’ve been raving about.
Y/n [10.33] : Please.
Y/n [10.33] : I’ll explain at our annual meeting.
Seo-Hyun [10.34] : Give me a couple of minutes.
Y/n [10.34] : I’ll put the order in ASAP.
‘Are you sure you typed it in right?’ Tae asked, as you drummed your nails on the table in wait.
You nodded, feeling too antsy to reply. Ria was a professional. A cold, calculated, meticulous professional. She wouldn’t push if it wasn’t urgent, but also, if it was that urgent why couldn’t she just tell you.
‘Okay,’ Tae came to stand at your table, ‘how about, close your eyes, and as you feel the distance between the keys, open your eyes and make sure you press the correct one. So one key at a time.’
‘Come on, we’ll do it with you.’ Jimin leaned over the table toward you.
Tae clicked on the spacebar. ‘What’s your password?’
‘AremArc, shift, the first three numbers on the top.’
Tae and Jimin met each other’s eyes and then yours. ‘How the hell are you going to remember that type of password.’
‘It’s always been AremArc,’ you averted your gaze, ‘it was my dad’s, I just added the numbers.’
Sensing the change in your tone, they let the subject drop immediately. In all honesty, you didn’t have an explanation as to why you carried over your dad’s password. It just felt weird to notuse it.
Taehyung moved to cover your eyes with his hand and Jimin pulled your hands forward to hover at the keyboard.
‘Okay, feel it out.’
You rested the front of your wrists directly in front of the spacebar, following Jimin’s words, you typed without thinking.
You knew the Arem had a capital letter, Jimin helped with that, the Arc had another and then Tae held the shift button while you typed in the numbers.
‘Ah, you hesitated!’ Taehyung exclaimed.
Opening your eyes you watched your fingers hover over the numbers. Your ring finger felt right, as it rested on the ‘1’, the middle finger on the ‘2’ but your forefinger was…off. It was curved to match the ‘3’, but you didn’t remember curving the finger. Straightening it out, your forefinger met the ‘4’ and that felt right. A side glance affirmed that Tae still had the shift key down, so you tapped on the ‘4’.
Almost immediately the desktop came into view.
‘Well,’ Tae straightened up and crossed his arms. ‘We see why it was such a mission before.’
‘Thank you,’ You muttered ruefully, trying to hide your smile as Jimin reached over to fistbump his soulmate.
Looking back at your screen, you watched as a mouse moved on the screen of its own accord and a white pop up box requesting the change of your password was ticked. Seo-Hyun’s teamviewer did it’s thing and you panicked for your phone to tell her you got in.
'Check your stuff,’ Jimin reminded you, ‘it’s almost time to leave for the studio.’
'Actually,’ your doors swung open, revealing Seokjin, 'we just decided to crash here.’
One by one, they found a place in your office, as if they’d been here a hundred times and felt right at home.
You raised your eyebrows. 'I don’t recall giving anyone access.’
Unbothered, Jungkook plopped himself next to Tae, who returned to his original seat, Hoseok lounged opposite them, his arms spread wide across the back of the sofa and crossed legs on the table in front of him. Yoongi went to stand by your floor length windows, Jin came to stand by your chair, Namjoon sat on your desk on your right after pressing a light kiss to your hair and Ji-ho, your favorite lawyer, placed his books on your desk, evidently claiming the office chair, next to Jimin.
Your question might imply such, but you were far from annoyed. Your family was allowed in any of your spaces at any time, but you were confused as to how they got in.
During the holiday season, only you and necessary personnel knew the codes to get in and out, unless you trusted someone enough to share them.
None of the band members had codes to your company, not even Namjoon, because business was business. They were idols, a band, your architecture firm was not on their daily route, not even Hoseok and Jin.
Hurudid have access… depending, because it would be futile to not give him a code considering he frequented Arem to update you and he was capable of acquiring any access codes on his own. Why fool yourself and waste either of your time?
The only other person who had access to any location you frequented and reason to make calls and perform actions without clearing it with you was – 'Kenta,’ Jin tapped your chair and answered your statement.
That one word puts you at ease. Kenta would have been subtle. Satisfied with the answer, you leaned back in your leather chair, and rested your elbows on either side, like a lady in wait.
'Why the location change?’ Jimin voiced your next question.
‘I don’t come here often.’ Ji-ho answered, as if that was enough explanation. ‘I love your view, y/n.’ He walked around the office, stopping to scan your shelf, his finger brushing across your Map of the Seven 7 Album before rounding on you. 'Can I visit you anytime?’
Namjoon gave him the side-eye.
Ji-ho played up his serious persona, but even you could see the glint in his eye.‘You know,’ he put both hands in his pockets, blatantly ignoring Namjoon’s gaze, ‘if ever paperwork needs signing… or have a heart to heart or… something.’
‘Okay, let’s cut to the chase.’ Every single member smirked as Namjoon turned fully to Ji-ho who held his hands up in surrender.
Namjoon tried to be playful, you could see a smirk playing at the side of his lips, but it wasn’t genuine.
You could do nothing but shake your head at the situation.
Logically speaking, Ji-ho was a very handsome male, single, in a good job with impeccable financial wit and an open personality, but he would never make a move on you, he was very loyal to Namjoon and friends with him for a long time. But Namjoon, well… he was not logical when you were involved and even banter was a thin-ice sort of thing. Hoseok, Jin, the maknaes, even Yoongi, Namjoon would be fine with alone visits, but despite the deep friendship, Ji-ho was not family, he was not Kenta, and he existed outside the small circle of people Namjoon would trust blindly.
There was a difference with your husband. He loved deep, and he loved in levels. Love was love and trust was trust. Blind, unquestionable trust was a different tier.
Reaching over to lace your fingers through his, he looked down at you, a warm smile gracing his features, but his eyes were hard, serious, slightly protective even.
You were reminded all over again, of how deeply embedded he was in your existence, how there would never and could never be anyone else. The past was the past. It had to be. You had a future to build with this man.
Ji-ho made his way to his seat and placed three different booklets in front of Namjoon. Within those seconds, as a unit, the energy in the room shifted. It could practically be felt, the way the band stood at attention, despite their relaxed stances.
‘Wait!’ Seokjin stopped Ji-ho just as he opened his mouth. 'I brought bubble wrap.’
True enough, Jin pulled out a piece of bubble wrap from his coat pocket.
'Why do you need bubble wrap?’ Ji-ho asked with genuine confusion.
'For y/n.’ Jin passed it over. 'Bubble wrap relaxes her.’
You giddily, made grabby hands and started popping them one by one, quietly and in sequence.
'Okay. So. What does everyone know?’
'Wait, wait,’ Taehyung interrupted Ji-ho, 'Jin hyung, we’ll be using swear words.’
It wasn’t a question and it wasn’t lost on anyone that Taehyung was not asking for permission.
'Since we’re being honest, hyung.’ Jimin came to his soulmate’s aid.
'Namjoon?’ The man in question turned his chin toward the leader.
Your husband looked down at you and you shrugged. Swear words and blunt talk did nothing for you or to you. You preferred it.
Namjoon pressed, 'Are you comfortable with that?’
You assured him. 'I’ve thought worse.’
'And said it.’ Jimin muttered under his breath.
You kicked him under the table and felt satisfaction at his soft 'Ow’.
'Hyung,’ Namjoon addressed his Jin, 'no language barriers since this is an open and honest discussion.’
Seokjin sighed. 'I need bubble wrap too.’
'Okay,’ Ji-ho, started, 'again,’ he looked around the room, searching for any opening mouths and add ons, 'What do we know?’
The answers came fast.
'That Namjoon hyung cheated at a bar sometime in October.’ Jungkook stated.
You didn’t even flinch, neither did Namjoon. Props to both of you. Either it was getting better, you were stronger, or maybe it was because of who stated it, Jungkook held no malice in his tone. He’d just stated a fact.
Smart move. Coming from a hyung, it could have been taken as disappointment, from a maknae, as judgment, but Jungkook was one of the maknaes that provided clarity instead of further confusion. Fact was fact. That’s all it was now. Namjoon had cheated. It was time to move on.
'That the bitch signed two NDAs one of which cannot be used against her and the second has a partial loophole to work with.’ Hoseok looked to be sucking on a sweet in his mouth, the round shape of it being pushed to either cheek when he spoke, 'She also submitted photos via her brother, which we got on video feed from Heeyoung.’
'Maiya makes herself look put together,’ Yoongi has his back turned to everyone, hands in his pockets as he watched the skyline before him, 'but she’s had a hard life, a hard past and despite her job, she makes it look like she comes from money, which we all initially thought, but she’s struggling and she’s taking care of her problematic brother.’
'A brother who was down the wrong path and caught in such, and is still on the run.’ You felt Jin’s hand by your head, on the back of your chair. 'She kept blaming a roommate that she supposedly had and now can’t be found. A bullshit story if we’ve ever heard one.’ Jin derided without humor, 'Why lie if you can’t do it properly?’ He asked no one in particular.
'Her lawyer fell off the face of the earth after leaving a prestigious company and has probably washed her hands of her brother’s case. So,’ Jimin clicked his tongue, 'no way out, no end in sight. A bar, an idol, money, … five seconds of fame.’
'So she’s broke, desperate and sees Namjoon hyung as an opening,’ Taehyung stands up, and walks around Hoseok’s couch, 'she wants to wash her hands off the situation once she signs the NDA and gets her money and payment from the company for keeping her mouth shut, maybe to save her brother to pay that lawyer, or buy a new life altogether…’ he stops next to his Yoongi hyung. 'But then she gets vindictive when we dismiss her. Greedy. Manipulative.’
'But we have y/n’s NDA,’ you felt Namjoon’s pride in you, his tone holding nothing back, 'with an acute connection, but a connection nonetheless, which we enforce.’
And ruin her.
You blinked at the intrusive thought. Blowing out a breath, quickly and quietly so as not to draw any attention from the men beside you, you pushed the negativity away. Yes, you hated her. You wanted to wring her fucking neck, truly and probably go to far. Even then, you might not feel remorse. In reality you weren’t capable of such cruelty, but that didn’t mean you weren’t angry.
'Alright,’ Ji-ho clapped his hand together, 'everyone’s on par.’
He pulled forward one of the booklets and entered lawyer mode. 'Well, let’s not beat around the bush, the brother is going to be taken into custody, we know this. He can’t clear his name. And he’s racked up quite the rap sheet.’ He picked up what looked like a criminal record and scanned it quickly before putting it back. 'Unfortunately,’ he looked up at you and sighed. 'There is nothing that can be done to save him, from what I know, because there are no witnesses on his side, the owner caught him fair and square and the video feed wasn’t working.’
Steepling his fingers, he watched as Yoongi moved to stand behind Jin, leaning casually against the wall, hands still in his pocket.
You understood. Some felt closer to others. Some felt more protective of others. It was why Jin leaned on your office chair, his forearms crossed over the back as he loomed over you. Yoongi behind him.
Hoseok and Jungkook were up and both leaning on the back of a single seater couch, crossed arms, facing you.
'We have to remember that it’s deep in the holiday season.’ The lawyer leaned back in his chair as Taehyung, last to form the protective circle, sat on your desk, his feet on the space of Jimin’s chair. It was a laughable situation. There was enough space, but everyone practically hovered over one another and it felt… right. 'The best I could do from my side was get a signature from our CEO on a written document stating the threat of her being sued and that she could be required to pay’ he reached over to open the second booklet, 'financial damages and related costs, as we have stated.’ He put the page down. Most probably a mock up of her NDA.
'Why can’t things be simple?’ Hoseok rolled his eyes in impatience.
You tilted your head to the side. Your Hobi, lovely Hobi, filled with so much love. The person that would eventually feel the full force of that love, would be truly blessed.
'If only.’ Taehyung derided after his hyungs annoyed statement.
'So now, we just have another pending issue.’ Jin asked pointedly, his arms crossed, making him out to be the hyung with the most business sense and legal knowledge.
'Well, yeah, I can’t call a court in session in the middle of the holiday, hyung, especially one of this magnitude. It’s not like we’re on a remand list. This is new.’ Ji-ho held his own against the oldest irritation. 'This band, even a minor picture, of someone unknown, a random fact that could be taken negatively, would cause uproar. Your fans are… passionate.’
You dropped your face to hide your smile and popped another couple of bubbles slowly.
Internally, you cheered Ji-ho on. The boys were very protective of their ARMY. Rightly so. But being a part of them, having your own hidden stan Twitter, having read Tumblr fanfic and seen reactions first-hand, some of them were borderline problematic and delusional.
The good ones made up for it. Yeah. Some of the soft stans were so loving and pure. Some of the hardstans were the most honest and savage. They made up for it.
'So, I will enforce this as soon as I can, and I will in no way back down, or settle for any sum of money because,’ he looked at you and Namjoon, 'it’s the two of you. Regardless of the shortcomings you see in yourselves, you are two upstanding citizens in society. You, y/n, represent yourself, a progressive female that develops the community and country, and you represent Namjoon, as a backbone of the band, his family and the leader that he is. Namjoon I don’t need to explain to you who you are.
Because of this, a case like this would draw a lot of attention. She would not look good of course, but neither will we.’
You liked how he said 'we’. As a company you would face this. Together.
'The question,’ Ji-ho stood up, and walked to the center of the room, addressing all of you at once, 'will be why are we going so hard, why are we pushing for this.’
'But first,’ he looked at Yoongi, 'What are NDAs?’
The man looked mildly startled, but replied after clearing his throat. 'Non-disclosure agreements.’
'Yes, but what do they stand for.’
'They’re a barrier.’ Namjoon narrowed his eyes, following Ji-ho’s prompting. 'They safeguard, doing their best to keep them in place as well as state consequences of crossing those barriers.’
'Exactly.’ A curl of his lip on one end, and then poker face. 'If we enforce this NDA, the consequences for Maiya Song will already be taking place.’ He motioned with his hands, from one position to another. Moving from one side to the other. You blinked. Like crossing a bridge.
Jin straightened up so fast you felt a draft by the movement. 'Which means there’s no barrier.’
His tone had your eyes widening.
'Which means she can reveal that I cheated.’ Namjoon mimicked his hyungs tone.
The realization was heavy, and caused internal panic to start building within you. Because how the fuck could you be so stupid.
Ji-ho stood in front of your family, unnerved. 'I am here with paperwork that I will get to processing in the new year, and I will take her down. I needed all of you, because I am asking the seven of you… to think about this again.’ You watched his eyes move to each face. 'Because once Namjoon is labeled a cheater, there is significant risk for not only him, but for this band.’
The silence that descended on your family… was deafening.
This was… this was new information. You wanted to laugh. Hysterically so. The bubble wrap discarded on your desk you viewed the small samurai sword set in front of you.
Yoongi had gifted you those. For the longest time, Yoongi kept you at arms length. It was who he was. Because he cared about his band, he cared about his brothers and his music. No one had the right to ruin that.
But here you were, getting justice, for a fucking blowjob, being vindictive, letting them go through with this when the world could turn against them.
They wouldn’t understand. They wouldn’t get it. Namjoon was not a bad person. Namjoon was the best human being. He was so much more than just a leader and a millionaire and an idol. He wove dreams from threads as delicate as spiderwebs, he valued the world around him, his surroundings, his family, his parents and his brothers, his life, his heart, his soul was built on the monumental victories of sharing his feelings, of his words translating onto paper, to create new meanings, to create a safety net that held people to the Earth between life and death.
People needed to see that. People needed to understand. One mistake didn’t undo his rights. And that one mistake couldn’t steal six other futures.
You felt the sting at the edge of your eye. Your throat tightened at the thought of any of their realities being altered.
The mere potential of someone pushing them into early retirement, the alarm that made wee-woo fucking sounds in your brain sounded out at the thought of the band nolo her being a band.
No comeback. No more harmonies and concepts. No tours. No concerts. Separate ways.
You looked up at Namjoon, almost hyperventilating, in his separate lifestyle he’d choose music, composing, mentoring, producing like Yoongi, but none of it, absolutely none of it would go smoothly if he was labeled a cheater.
'Well, we’ve had a good run.’ Jungkook pulled you out of your thoughts.
The last person you expected to say something like that.
'Excuse me?’ You seethed. Clenching your fists to keep from growling at the maknae.
He met your hard stare, unflinching. 'We have.’
'No,’ you stood up and pushed your chair back with enough force to send it backwards. 'Hello. This,’ you pointed at everyone, including him, 'is the band. The fucking band, we are talking about. I don’t need to say the full fucking name for any of you to know what I’m emphasising.’ You felt Namjoon’s hand at your back and closed your eyes to take a deep shuddering breath. Tears spilled out of your eyes. You couldn’t pinpoint why. 'This changes everything, Ji-ho.’
'I can’t believe we didn’t think of this.’ Jin whispered next to you as if you weren’t shouting.
'Realistically speaking,’ Namjoon mumbled, 'as cocky as it may sound, I have pulled in the industry. I would be the known face, and she would be the outsider.’ His voice grew loud. 'Therefore my supposed story is more believable.’
Ji-ho shook his head. 'You’d still be under scrutiny. Everything would change. You would not be the desired, saintlike, grounded, humble male that everyone sees of you.’
'You will hear words like, 'I knew something was wrong with him.“ You scoffed, willing yourself to stop leaking fucking tears when you weren’t crying. Frustration was a helluva bitch.
'Somethingis wrong with me.’ He plastered his body against yours. 'I cheated on my wife. I did the wrong thing. I deserve anything I get for it.’
You attempted to shrug out of his hold as he grabbed a tissue to wipe your cheeks. 'This isn’t just about you.’ Grabbing the tissue from your husband’s hand, you turned back to Ji-ho. 'Don’t do it.’
'Now, y/n,’ he offered you an apologetic smile, 'unfortunately, your say in this, has to be put aside. I need the band’s consent. Management will be on your asses as soon as I get this paperwork to them, you all know this.’
Yoongi pushed off the wall. 'Why does it sound like you’re convincing us to not sue her?’
Was he out of his mind? The most ruthless of the group. The most protective. Was he actually considering going through with this?
'I adore y/n, hyung. But this isn’t just about your band. This is the intent of the message you carry across in your songs, this is the validity of your statements, these are profits, and finance, and stocks. It’s tourism and globalization. This band is not just a band.’
No one could dispute his statement.
'This is a family first, before a band.’ Jin stood tall, taking his place as the solid head of a structure. 'We understand where Ji-ho is coming from. So, everyone… thoughts.’
Taehyung waved his hand. 'Sue the bitch.’
'Y/n deserves justice.’ Jimin didn’t look up, his finger tracing a pattern on Taehyung’s pants.
'Hey now, wait –,’ you protested.
'We’ll survive,’ Hoseok raised his eyebrow at you, 'we can do other things.’
They were being so nonchalant, so agreeable. What the fuck!
Jungkook nodded to Ji-ho. 'Do your thing, hyung.’
'Guys, stop!’ You shouted, but no one seemed to be listening.
'Priorities change.’ Yoongi added. Somehow the two words said so much.
'That’s it!’ You banged the table. 'Are you all crazy? We can’t have anyone knowing exactly what happened.’
'Baby,’ Namjoon soothed, crowding you with his presence, his scent, his hand on your thigh.
He was calling to you so calmly. As if you weren’t in a frenzy, as if the consequences be damned.
You broke out of his hold and walked up to Ji-ho threateningly. 'Fuck that bitch. And fuck her brother and fuck what happened. Whatever. It’s over. She doesn’t have any other leverage, since she handed the pictures. The NDA is still in place to make sure she keeps her cock sucking mouth shut and she has her money.’ You breathed hard as you offloaded on the lawyer who looked taken aback. You didn’t care. You didn’t give a fuck.
Raising a shaky hand, you pointed a threatening finger in his face. 'You will save this band. And you will save my husband. We are not risking this.’ You closed your hand into a fist and turned away, hands on your hips. The emotions churned inside you as you held your head. Feeling a fresh wave of vindication, you whipped back to him. 'Let her go. Let her brother go. Fuck her lawyer and her case. Screw her plans, fuck her life, and fuck her fucking lipstick color, just fuck it!’
Namjoon grabbed your arm and pulled you into his hold before you could say anymore. Shaking like a leaf, you hid in his jacket, in his warmth, wanting to scream at the new developments and downright refusing to accept the end of one of most glorious eras you had ever had the blessing to experience.
You dared not peep at Namjoon. You knew what you would find. Sadness and resignation only, as he held you so close to his heart. His arms around you were so tight, it was as if he wanted to keep you there forever. He started rocking from side to side and kissed your forehead.
'You’re going to court Ji-ho.’
You attempted to push out of his hold, your panic rising again, but he held strong, he held you to him. He was making himself clear, he would be making this decision. He would not listen to you.
'Namjoon,’ you tried shoved at his chest and tried to protest, but it came out muffled.
'No.’ He held strong at your neck and met your eye. 'I’ve wronged you. And you have done enough for me and this family. It’s time for us to show you how much we love you. It’s time for change.’
'ARMY’s –,’
’– will understand.’ Jin completed for you.
You looked above Namjoon’s shoulder blade to see your comfort human offer a sad smile.
You closed your eyes and stopped shoving, burying yourself in Namjoons hold.
'I am human, y/n.’ He sounded like he was reminding himself as much as you. 'And if your true love can accept that, and make sense of it, then my real fans will. If it comes out.’
'Joon, please.’ You whispered into his shoulder.
'Shh,’ he rocked you again. He kissed your forehead again. 'Shh.’
In any other setting, with anyone else, you would never let anyone see what power Namjoon had over you, but you couldn’t care, this time, power dynamics were the least of your problems.
'Unless…’ Yoongi murmured.
Your eyes snapped open to the male behind Jin.
'Unless what?’ Jin voiced your question.
'Namjoon makes a statement instead.’ Yoongi looked behind you, silently asking Ji-ho for his opinion.
'Take the ball completely out of her court.’ A deep respect laced the words that came from behind you.
'No.’ You shook your head stubbornly. 'As admirable and as brave as that is. We’d rather not go that far.’
What was the use? The consequences racing through your mind was for a 'what if’ situation. If Namjoon put out a statement, it would be a sure thing.
Namjoon shifted you back, keeping you at arm’s length. 'You trust me right. Right, y/n?’
'I do.’ The words left your lips, as your fingers dug into his forearm. You were under scrutiny. Such a question, in such a setting, a moment’s hesitation would have been warranted, and it would have made a world of difference.
But the fact that you could answer, as you looked into your husband’s face and held onto his hands, in front of your whole family, without doubt – it was a testament to the strength of the foundation of your marriage.
Namjoon leaned forward, an arm curling around your waist, a thumb and forefinger tipping up your chin. 'Will you leave me,’ he breathed against you, 'when the world thinks bad of me?’
The refutation was instant. 'No!’ Your hands curled into fists on his jacket. 'We’re in this together.’
A slow smirk graced his face and uplifted your heart. He brushed his nose against yours and… you crumbled. Closing your eyes, taking in the feel of him, his unshakeable resolve wafted over you. That easily, the fight was lost to you.
'Ji-ho.’ Your husband lifted his head and said after a moment. 'A statementif things go south.’
'I’ll inform the authorities about her brother. And send the letter thereafter.’
You could feel Ji-ho move, stopping directly behind you. You felt a gentle hand on your hair a second later.
'Sleep with one eye open, Ji-ho.’ You threatened lowly.
Namjoon’s lips twitched.
No one said anything as the lawyer sighed, gathered his stuff and showed himself out.
The ones left, were family only. This was the necessary circle.
Namjoon met his hyungs eyes and then each of the members in turn, a silent message that bared so much understanding, passing between each of them, his knees buckled and you yelped, grabbing a hold of whatever material you could between your fingers as Hoseok and Jungkook caught him and Jimin pushed Ji-ho’s discarded chair under him.
'Joon,’ you whispered in concern as he dropped his head in his hand and covered his eyes with his palm.
You stood next to him, petting his hair, his face near your abdomen. No one said anything.
He finally looked up, after minutes of silence. 'I’m sorry.’
'No.’ The person you least expected, came toward his fellow 94-liner. 'No more apologizing.’
Hoseok looked ready for war. It did everyone good to see that the most optimistic one, was finally on the same page as the leader.
'I don’t know if she will reveal it.’ Jin had a Jungkook attached to his back. You almost smiled, the maknae would go to his comfort place too. 'And if she does there’s no guarantee that our days as a band will come to an end. But we always knew it was numbered.’
'Our ages.’ Yoongi stated, his focus back on the skyline.
'Our schedules.’ Taehyung suggested.
That reason would come from him because he would go into acting full-time.
'Our lives.’ Jimin muttered. His leg up on the chair, the other resting below. 'We can finally have workable, breathable, lives.’
'And we’re adults now. It’s not always going to be hopeful and happy.’ Jungkook reminded everyone. The maknae had to know though, he would always be the baby.
'This could be a real outlook for everyone actually.’ Jin nodded his head as the wheels turned in his head. 'We’ve grown up, so why can’t our message?
In fact, our message only gets carried across as it does, because we’re being true to ourselves. Like what’s happening in our hearts and brains and our lives. It would only make sense to be true to ourselves and our journey by expressing it through our music.’
'We can all express this change through our music.’ Hoseok admitted, following his hyungs train of thought.
'There was a fear before of not being able to date or show significant others or get married because of the fan base and the demographic and the desirability,’ Taehyung looked up, and met Namjoon’s eyes, 'but you took that step hyung, and we are still thriving. We have packed schedules for at least the next two years and plenty of comebacks individually and together. We won’t fall apart yet. And we have time to put ourselves across and build our Plan B.’
'We are allowed to step out of the boundaries they had for us.’ Jin’s determination carried itself across. 'This is life and it will not always be great but we will learn from it. And maybe someone could save their marriage or think differently or remember to forgive when it’s necessary.’
'This band,’ Yoongi finally looked at you, 'is what it is, because we make our own path and take risks. And some of them were worth it.’ Seeing the tumultuous emotions on your face, that you felt inside, he looked away before continuing. 'And besides being a band, we are a family. We want wives. Kids. Lives. Soon.’
'No more running.’ Jimin stated, more to himself.
The wording confused you. Running? From what? From… who?
'I find it easy these days.’ Jungkook said from behind Jin’s back.
'What’s that, Kook?’ Jin asked over his shoulder.
'To not care about anyone’s approval and disapproval.’
Jungkook struggled a lot with himself and his fans. He didn’t want to embarrass anyone or feel embarrassed. Being himself was one thing, but for such a long time, he gave what was asked and showed only what was wanted. To say those words and be confident in himself… it was a feat.
You felt Namjoon’s palm at your back and the side of his face placed at your stomach.
Instantly your brain whipped up one word, 'submission.’
Namjoon, Kim Namjoon, the leader, the idol, the rapper, was holding onto you for strength, in front of his band.
You didn’t push him away. You were slightly confused with his actions. But you would never push him away. He needed comfort. His family was saving him from his own mess. He’d need all the strength you had to offer.
So you settled both your hands in his hair instead. His other arm pulled you closer to him straight after.
'Kook’s right.’ Taehyung reaffirmed his only dongsaeng’s words. 'When was the last time we looked for approval?’
'The only people that matter… are in this room.’ Hoseok crouched low, and Namjoon turned away from you to meet the eyes of his fellow 94 liner. Hoseok swallowed hard before saying his piece. ’'Even when this rain stops, when the clouds go away, I stand here, just the same.”
'Hobi –,’
’Iam here.’ Hoseok touched Namjoon’s knee. 'Your best friend. I will be here through it all. We will do this.’ Once Joon nodded, Hoseok stood up and checked on each member. 'Everyone here needs to remember that there are always second chances, no matter what happens, and with whatever does happen, we can get through it together.’
Head nods, affirmations, high-fives were met all round and you bent forward to place a kiss on Namjoons head.
To others, it would seem dramatic. But to the band, to the ones that had experienced Hoseok and Namjoon first hand, it was a shift.
No one, no one ever, fucked with their family. Even backed into a corner, they would adapt and stay strong, and they would fight, should the need arise.
You always knew this day would come. But for it to be so real and for such a reason…
'Not that this is relevant at all,’ Taehyung lifted his shoulders, as if what he was about to say was no big deal, 'but y/n… what’s wrong with Maiya’s lipstick shade?’
Summary: You meet Kim Namjoon at the library during a yearlong fellowship in Seoul. You’ve never heard of BTS, but you like him. Is there a place in his life for you?
Warnings: Namjoon gets laser eye surgery, this scene takes place afterwards at his house; Namjoon is on medicine post-procedure that makes him sleepy
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
Summary: You meet Kim Namjoon at the library during a yearlong fellowship in Seoul. You’ve never heard of BTS, but you like him. Is there a place in his life for you?
Warnings: Language, unprotected sex in a committed relationship
A/N: Thanks @miscelunaaaand@vyduan for reading and Em for the comment “I love it when you defile a couch.”
The door buzzes when you’re grading the last two final papers. You hear the door unlock, Namjoon letting himself in with his code and key card. His security team insisted you add two types of locks. And by ‘insisted’ you mean they came over and installed a new one while you were at the museum. You know there is also a large black SUV with his bodyguards who will sit outside as long as he’s here.
You type the last two sentences of feedback on this paper and make it to the door just as he’s opening it. Before he can even come all the way inside, your arms are around his neck, his lips chasing yours.
He’s been gone for 10 days on the Asian leg of their tour. He looks so tired and so beautiful.
I AM JSUT ALDSKJFASKFJADSKFJAS DFS DID I READ THIS BEFORE? I THINK I WOULD REMEMBER. CAN WE SEND AN ASK FOR THIS COUCH, TOO? TELL US ALL YOU HONORED COUCH.
Summary: You meet Kim Namjoon at the library during a yearlong fellowship in Seoul. You’ve never heard of BTS, but you like him. Is there a place in his life for you?
Warnings: Language
A/N: I’ve tried to not indicate anything about OC except that she’s geographically not from Korea. That factors into the plot a little later. I am purposefully choosing to overlook any cultural implications of Namjoon seriously dating someone who is not from Korea. I have nothing meaningful to contribute to that conversation and don’t want to make sweeping generalizations about something I don’t really understand. And I want the conflict in the story to be around whether or not these two can work around his fame without OC losing what’s important to her. So I’ve tried to keep the focus on that. Thanks @vyduanand@miscelunaaa for reading
The view from the suite at Olympic Stadium is amazing.
“These are the best seats I’ve ever had for anything ever.” Audrey walks up next to you where you’re looking out over the partially filled stadium. The air is buzzing with fans arriving. Namjoon arranged for the museum scholars and some curators to have suite tickets for the first of four shows at the Olympic Stadium.
The suite is lavish, a full bar, food. There must be thirty people here. You’re leaving the bar when a woman approaches you. She looks familiar. A little like Nam—oh sweet merciful—.
“Excuse me, Dr. ______. I wanted to say hello. Namjoon has told me you are spending some time together. And I wanted to meet you.”
Seriously, mittens, you just keep giving and giving AND I CAN’T BELIEVE I GOT TO MEET YOU YESTERDAY AND WE HAD FLOOR TOGETHER!!! YOU ARE THE REASON I GOT TO SEE BTS SO CLOSE!!! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!! BORAHAE FOREVER!!!
Summary: You meet Kim Namjoon at the library during a yearlong fellowship in Seoul. You’ve never heard of BTS, but you like him. Is there a place in his life for you?
Warnings: Language, protected sex
A/N: thanks to @xjoonchildxand@vyduan for reading and everyone who has written me about this story. I’m so, so thrilled you like it too.
You’re in the conservation studio this morning. It’s a big, well-lit space in the basement of the museum that looks more like a sterile science lab than an artist’s studio. You’re trying to concentrate on the corner of an ARTIST canvas that has a small smudge on it. Over clean and it will create another type of mark.
“Dr. _______, um, so sorry to interrupt.” Your apprentice Tina has come over to your table. “I just got a call, we have a last-minute VIP guest coming for a studio visit.”
Oh shit. You know it’s Namjoon. He had a meeting with the president of the museum this morning; he’d wanted to commute together, which was cute, but ultimately too risky. You try not to respond too strongly. She probably just thinks you’re worried about a high-profile guest.
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.
Pairing: ot7 x gn!reader (a drabble for each member)
Word Count: 3430
Warnings: no warnings needed! this is basically just feel good u.u
Rating: pg
Genre: fluff fluff fluff
Summary: a small collection of moments in the domestic bliss you and him held.
AN:dropping this here for no reason other than to say yes I am alive strong power thank you
»»————- ♡ ————-««
playfights are something that you always have to be on watch for withseokjin, with how mischievous he is. and at this moment, washing your dog, you are ever more on guard. or maybe not, because while you continue on lathering your dog’s dirty fur, you suddenly feel a blob of something wet on your head. your hair, to be specific. you can feel the soap slide down like a boat would fall down a waterfall, you flash a glare at seokjin, who’s suddenly looking all too nervous, eyes blinking fast, but the smile on his lips giving him away as the guilty apprehender. ‘it was the dog!’ he cries out, and you almost lunge at him- while he jumps away from you.
'seokjin! get back here!’
'i’m innocent!'
'no you’re not, that was the worst excuse i’ve ever heard!'
you both end up running around the garden, soap trailing behind your figures and bubbles behind you, laughter ringing out in the air as you try, again and again, to catch him. it’s almost infuriating how your lover uses his longer legs to keep a healthy distance between the two of you. when you finally corner him, you’re both out of breath, and the water has made your clothes cling on too tight to your bodies, but you haven’t grinned or smiled or laughed as hard in a while, and the mirroring look on your lover’s face makes you think it’s worth it.
'it was an accident,’ he insists. 'the dog threw it, not me.’
you can’t even refute the ridiculousness of that statement. oh wait. you can. 'jin, the dog doesn’t even know how to throw the soap! and definitely not on my hair!’
a look of pure incredulity shows on his face, pout appearing and eyes blinking fast as if it will help give him credibility, the dork. 'well, that’s what it wants you to think.’ he concurs with a mockingly offended, quite overly dramatic tone, complete with a vivid shaking of the head. 'but i saw differently!’
'don’t you believe your husband?’
you burst out laughing, all over again, for some reason you can’t even explain, your heart sosososo full of love. 'god, why am i even in love with you?’
(the two of you do clean up the garden afterwards though, the plants and furniture drowned while you weren’t looking- not to mention you have to give the dog a bath all over again, as it rolled around in the dirt while the two of you were busy playing tag.
seokjin, for his part, is completely unrepentant. you should be stricter, but…
well. at least he made you cookies afterwards.)
»»————- ♡ ————-««
it’s an hour after three when yoongi comes home, tired, drowsy figure almost collapsing on the sofa as he yawns. he almost falls asleep when you flick the lights back on, watching with no small amount of glee and (some) frustration as the man startles, almost falling off said furniture.
'you really have got to stop staying up until it’s almost daytime,’ you chide him, walking over to tug him up and off of the sofa, sighing as you card fingers through his matted locks. he looks up at you with the poutiest expression ever, and you steel yourself to not give in with the sheer amount of cute that has congregated to make the person named min yoongi in your arms. instead you amble with him up the stairs, the two of you making for a pair of sleepy, exhausted lovebirds. you’ll have to put in first floor bedrooms when you look for a house together, this happens one too many times already.
when you reach your shared bedroom, you push him into the shower, the water already heated up, while you take out a pair of pajamas.
drying his hair, when the both of you are prone to nodding off, is a herculean chore. still, it’s not as if you’re okay with wet hair on your pillow, and you know that’s an easy way to get sick the next day for him. 'you were in your studio again, weren’t you?’ you grumble, although you’re pretty sure he’s fallen asleep already and you’re talking to no one. yoongi, for all that he is there to take care of others, is surprisingly receptive to affection when left without a choice. 'i had to,’ he surprisingly says, stubborn, but with a sigh, his tone quiet but firm. 'inspiration struck’. and you can’t even argue against that, knowing full well how a muse is to her artist. so instead you settle for drawing him close, close, close, muttering softly.
'maybe i should ask if they can add a bedroom to the studio.’ you feel him smile against your skin, voice close enough to murmur in your ears.
'you know i’ll only ever get to really sleep when i’m beside you.'
you scoff. 'you and i both know that’s not true.’
warmth against your skin, an arm over yours, and a leg intertwined, soft hair tickling your cheeks, and you feel as if you could head off as it is, but no. he has the audacity to speak up again.
'you are my most melodious lullaby, the sweetest good morning, the link between my dreams and reality. if you aren’t there when i sleep and when i awake, then how do i know you aren’t just something i’ve been dreaming for? that you’re actually real, and right beside me?’ he presses a kiss against your skin, and, god, that smooth ass jerk, you refuse to look at him at all.
(you both wake up late that morning, and you find you can’t complain in the end anyway. even though he always ends up staying up far too late, at least, you know this, you and him will always be each other’s first view in the morning.
not a dream, indeed.)
»»————- ♡ ————-««
'come on, love, dance with me!’ you grin widely as you surprise hoseok, holding his hand captive in yours, the feather duster falling from his hands as you slide in front of him, tiptoeing to place a kiss on his cheeks.
he splutters, 'i thought we were supposed to be cleaning,’ he raises an eyebrow at you, but you only nuzzle your nose against his, clutching onto him with a pout. there is a standoff with the two of you ending up staring at each other with all the fondness you can feel inside you, one that you end up winning when he places a kiss on the crown of your head.
'dusting can wait,’ you insist. 'we’re both already filthy anyway!’ he feels the laughter bubble up inside him, the helplessly fond smile he has reserved for you and you only showing. but you’re not lying, the attic room has been a mess the whole day and one afternoon will not transform it instantly. which is why, rather, standing in the middle of the not-so-crowded-anymore room, the sunlight beaming down from the window and the radio playing out an old love song, you find yourself more inclined to drop what you’re supposed to be doing, in favor of spending a few minutes to indulge.
'your parents will get angry,’ he points out, and you hum as you place your hand with his, his arm settling across your waist. this is far from what he normally dances, sharp moves and fluid spins becoming slow and sweet, the usual awe-inducing performance making way for intimacy in that private way, where the two of you are in your own world, closed off from the others. in this moment, you think that’s not that far off from the truth.
'they won’t mind,’ you shake your head. 'and we can just take a bath afterwards.’ he leads you in a sort of glide, across the room, the melody turning and twirling you around, heart beating in both of your chests in a steady, steady rate, each in time with the music. and when he ends the dance, you in his arms, both of you slightly breathless, staring into each other’s eyes, you find yourself wondering not for the first time if your lover is not warmth itself reincarnated, for how else can you explain away the feeling of being awash in sunlight, not a single part of you left untouched?
(what was supposed to take only a few days turns into a week and then some, but you can’t feel regret for a single moment as the attic becomes filled up with memories you already cherish, a secret hideaway for the two of you.)
»»————- ♡ ————-««
’namjoon, come sit down on the grass with me,’ you call out, pout on your face as you beckon your lover to come on over. han river remains sparkling no matter whether daytime or nighttime, the waters reflecting the city’s beauty, and you are not the only admirer. still, there is something to be said about the way your lover looks as he falls into his thoughts. the two of you made plans to have a picnic here in the park, as the setting sun made itself known across the sky, but it’s less of a romantic escapade than it is a moment of peace, a brief respite in your hectic lives.
'we should have brought a blanket,’ he finally says, but you interlace your hand with his, your fingers with his own, tugging him down. he easily complies for all that he complains, and you don’t think even he can deny how the grass feels under you. staring up at the dimming sky, blue and red bleeding into gold and purple, the stars beginning to peek through the curtains of night, you find yourself drifting away, the lull of the city dragging you to rest.
'what do you think of the multi-universe theory?’ you hear him ask. namjoon is looking up at the sky, and there is a familiar expression on his face that tells you he is thinking about the secrets of the universe yet again, of the human nature and how each and everyone is connected. it’s when he looks a little dazed, eyes focused on something beyond, a wistful tone in his voice, and he falls quiet, but when he speaks his thoughts there is always a 'what if?’. 'i wonder if we’d met in other universes too,’ he says simply.
you laugh, gently. 'kim namjoon, if you are saying that there is a universe in which i see you and fail to love you, then let me reassure you now.’ he looks away, a pout barely surfacing on his face, and you turn towards him, hands clasped together and your hair spread below you, the two of you picture perfect. 'maybe that universe does exist. maybe in another space and time, i wouldn’t have the blessing that i have here, to love you as freely, as much as i can. but this isn’t that universe, and nothing will stop me from staying by your side.’
by the end of it, your head is turned away with embarrassment, unable to take what might be his reaction. when you hear him huff, quiet, you turn around. what greets you is namjoon, blushing. 'what would i do without you?’ he smiles, soft and sheepish and loving, and you roll your eyes, even as you feel yourself become something not unlike putty in this man’s hands, a wave of love crashing over the sandcastle that is you. 'let’s hope we never find out.’
(you spend hours in that park, talking about everything and anything, and when you go home it must be close to midnight. not that you regret it, though, when the two of you clumsily almost topple over each other, collapsing on your sofa, together, while you order takeout for the nth time because you’re both too tired to cook.)
»»————- ♡ ————-««
you don’t think much of it, stealing jimin’s clothes is as normal, as easy as that for you. the two of you practically share the other’s now, a constant mismatch between your closet as what is yours and what is his is blurred, the lines toed and crossed over every time that it’s simply easier to count your closets as one being rather than two.
still, it makes for a messy, uncoordinated space, and it easily slips from your mind, or his, of the whereabouts of your belongings.
'babe,’ you can hear the pout in his voice. 'did you see my hoodie?’ 'which hoodie?’ 'my favorite one!’ 'which favorite one?’ at this point you see his head pop out from the doorframe, prominent lips stuck out and eyes searching the room. 'it’s the green one, the soft, huge, green hoodie. that one.’
you stifle a rising amount of chuckles as you eventually realize the location of the hoodie in question- on your body, as you stole it from his closet just this morning. you don’t think you can be seen as guilty though, not when the hoodie itself seemed to be begging for someone to wear it. impossibly soft, impossibly huge and impossibly sweet-smelling from the laundry softener you used, it was easy to drown in it and comfortably doze off. 'sorry baby, i don’t know where it went.’ 'okay, but, babe, can you help me…’
you startle as you surprisingly feel the shadow of your lover on your body, handsome face so suddenly, so dangerously close to your own, even if upside down. 'yn, you had it all this time!’ you chuckle at the whine in his voice, even as he leans forward to try and tug it off you. 'give it now,’ he says, but you shake your head, giggling as jimin tries. 'raise your arms! i can’t believe you made me run around looking for this,’ he grumbles, but you cross your arms instead, sitting up, turning around to face him, preparing yourself for a fight.
'no way, this is the softest hoodie in the house. i’m not giving it up.’
a moment of silence, and then- jimin attacks you, lunging forward to glomp you. you feel yourself become confused, when you feel his fingers around your sides, and you burst out into laughter, long and loud.
'no, jimin!'
'give it back!'
'no way!'
'then suffer under my wrath!’
(he only stops when tears actually appear at the corner of your eyes from laughing too hard, easily sprawling across your chest, the two of you on the floor and too tired to move. 'we can share,’ you hum, choking as your lover narrows his eyes at you, before decidedly burrowing under your hoodie as well. with how big it is, and how not big both of you are, you surprisingly fit with him inside. it’s too warm for two people inside, but as jimin lays his head comfortably across your chest, the thumping of your heart lulling him to rest, and he holds you in his arms, neither of you find you can argue against your positions.)
»»————- ♡ ————-««
waking up with taehyung in the morning is an ordeal that never fails to make you smile. warmth pooling across the sheets, the warm breeze drafting in from the window, your lover’s body wrapped around yours- there is a kind of holy in the way serene mornings like these are, quiet and golden, the world seemingly stopping for a moment, if only for the two of you.
it breaks your heart every time to have to shatter the illusion. 'taehyung’, you whisper. there’s not even a twitch in his movements, snoring quiet but steady as he continues off to slumber. you, however, can’t get out of his hold, not without the man releasing you anyway- you would know, you’ve tried so many times before and it’s always been a moot point. the only way to get out of taehyung’s grip, is to wake him up into doing so. still, you find yourself soft and hesitant, every single time. 'taehyung,’ you try again, a little louder this time. you shake him, and it takes you a solid minute or two for the man to actually make a sound, a low groan at the back of his throat. when he registers the situation at hand, though, your lover declines to release you, holding you captive with his embrace instead.
'stay in bed with me,’ he almost whines, and you press your lips together to stop yourself from bursting into giggles.
'you know i can’t do that,’ you rebutt. 'i have work in an hour!'
'but i can’t sleep without you.’
'you big baby,’ you fondly, exasperatedly call him out, and you see him briefly crack his eyes open, if only to look at you with a pout.
you see him struggle whether or not to protest your words, before the sleepy takes over and he lazily agrees, pulling you closer in return. 'mhm, i’m your baby…'
'taehyung…'
'just a few more minutes, i swear,’ he presses a light kiss on your forehead, and you know it’s not just your imagination that you feel him smile against your skin, when you sigh loudly, relenting to his demands.
'you’re incorrigible,’ you whine as you bury your head in his chest.
'only because i love you.'
you would call it a laugh if it weren’t for the yawn that sneaks in at the end.
and just as easy as that do you both fall off back to sleep, your phone’s alarm scaring the hell out of you half an hour later. it was practically a given that you’d end up falling back to sleep with him really, you could say it was a ritual at this point.
(you end up being late to work, as a matter of fact, but you can’t even find it in yourself to be angry. after all, there is quite nothing like waking up together in the morning, especially with your lover.
he takes you out on a date to the amusement park that weekend too, so you suppose you can forgive him.)
»»————- ♡ ————-««
’jungkook,’ you muffle your laughter behind your hand, but there’s no denying the bright grin on your face as you feel your lover’s arms encircle your waist. bright and early, it’s early enough into the morning that the sky is still caught between the hues of red and pink, like a rose slowly blooming from night’s embrace. it’s what makes your lover’s apparent waking state a mystery, when you know how heavy your lover sleeps. there goes your plan to bring him breakfast in bed, huh?
'what are you even doing?’ you receive no reply, not one in words anyway, as you hear him mutter something unintelligible into your shoulders. his warmth against your back is addicting, especially in the chill of the morning air, but you’re nothing if not determined, and if he’s here to drag you back to bed, you’re having none of it. 'if you’re sleepy,’ you start, turning around to hug him properly, jungkook’s face nuzzling into your neck afterwards. 'you should go back to bed.’ 'but you’re not there with me,’ you finally hear him say. 'just go back to cooking, i’ll just stay here…’
'jungkook, i can’t cook while you’re wrapped around me!’ you almost burst into laughter at that, what more at the earnest expression on your lover. 'why not?’ he grumbles, a pout appearing on his face. you don’t know whether to shake your head, or what- when your lover uses what he knows is his greatest weapon against you. 'don’t give me that look,’ you sigh, but your resolve crumbles quickly, and it’s obvious that jungkook can see it as well.
'don’t blame me if it turns out burnt,' you finally sigh. you feel, rather than hear him chuckle briefly. 'i’m sure it will still be delicious.’ 'you say that no matter what i cook,’ you mutter under your breath and he stays quiet because you’re right. instead, you finally feel him disentangle from your, rather reluctantly, before he gets his own apron and gloves. 'then i guess we should just cook together then,’ he declares, bumping shoulders with you. 'can’t mess it up then, can we?’ he smirks, cocky and familiar, and you roll your eyes even as you feel yourself settle so easily by his side, the two of you finishing breakfast together.
(the food, amazingly enough, does not become burnt, and turns out well instead. of course, he did help you after all. still, sitting at the table, eating together, you smile easy, softly. how can you not? everything about this moment is perfect, and you wouldn’t have any qualms about it lasting forever.
judging by the smile on jungkook’s face, you aren’t the only one to feel this way, too.)
summary: Your crush on Namjoon isn’t even that big. You don’t think he’s the most beautiful man you’ve ever met, your eyes never follow him across the room, and you definitely don’t pay attention to the way his thighs look when he wears those jeans.
rating: M(18+)
tags: sorta unrequited-ish not really though hehe, friends to lovers au, smut but also fluff at the end, dirty talk, namjoon uses baby and sweetheart, oral (m & f receiving), unprotected sex, kinda possessive joon makes an appearance, cum eating, choking but not really, that is probably all
wc: 6.4k
notes: my longest fic to date !! i hope you enjoy :-)
You’re not really sure what you’re doing here, your intentions are fuzzy but you know one thing for sure; Kim Namjoon makes you dizzy, makes your head spin.
These days, you can’t go twenty minutes without thinking, ‘I wonder what Namjoon is doing’ or ‘did Namjoon eat today?’ It’s almost pathetic. Scratch that, it is pathetic. Namjoon was introduced to you at the beginning of your freshman year in university by your first on-campus friend, Hoseok, as his lifelong best friend and confidant. Namjoon made the world’s best first impression on you, he was so smart and so humble and once you heard it, you couldn’t get his laugh to stop replaying in your head. Your small infatuation, if you can call it that, for Namjoon quickly turned into a pretty sizable crush, unable to remember a time where Namjoon wasn’t always on your mind.
That’s how you find yourself here, at that small gathering that Namjoon and Hoseok were throwing in their apartment. Through Hoseok, you made many of your close friends, namely Seokjin, who was a graduate student at the same university. It was Hoseok who invited you, but Seokjin had begged you to come, claiming something about these years being your prime and whatnot. Half convinced and half desperate to see Namjoon, you came but still, you don’t know why you’re here. It’s not like you coming would make any kind of dent in Namjoon’s evening. He’s always been a popular guy on campus, constantly surrounded by people, they seem to flock to him and his blinding, dimpled smile. So when Namjoon walks up to you and Seokjin with an extra drink in his hand, you have no idea how to react.
genre: bridgerton!au, regency era historical fiction, enemies to lovers, duke!bts x reader
warnings: historical inaccuracy
summary:y/n l/n was the most sought-after lady of this year’s social season. her beauty was unmatched, her wit far superior to those around her, her charm that of a descendent of royal blood. all these aspects of her made her the prize to be won in the spring of 1813. however, something nobody could have dreamt of for this year was the unexpected return of london’s seven most eligible bachelors, all of whom seemed to desire the diamond of the season.
word count: 3.7k
author’s note: i’m back babies!! i’ve finally finished all my finals and can get back to writing!! as a bit of an apology for being away for so long, this chapter is a bit of a double whammy!! it isn’t too lengthy but my hope is to improve on this eventually!!
Ambitious mamas rejoice, for the collection of stags continues to grace our fair city with their presence. And, oh, what an impressive presence it is!
It should be noted that several of these bachelors have been overheard announcing to mamas everywhere that they have no plans of ever marrying, including the two most sought of them all, the Duke of Hastings and the Duke of Wellington.
This author wonders what brazen matchmaker shall rise to such a challenge, for this competition is well underway.
In other news, a most peculiar turn of events has transpired with Miss L/N! Perhaps this author had misinterpreted the reasoning for her lack of gentlemanly suitors.
A rumored encounter with the Earl of Dartmouth himself had reached this author’s ever-listening ear, and such a moment ended with remarks vulgar in tone. Though these musings are only of speculation, it does leave this author to wonder if our precious yet obstinate diamond has jagged edges that may draw blood from those who dare to touch her.
You were not a particular enthusiast of the theatre, but even you had to admit that the Theatre Royal was a magnificent sight to behold. Created with only the finest white marble imported from the far off land of Italy, the theatre stood between St Martin’s Lane and Drury Lane with a splendor that could only be usurped by the royal palace itself.
Lighting fixtures lined the entrance, their candles flickering with ferocity as dozens of people entered the building. Dressed in their second-to-best attire- for the best was saved for only the most prestigious of parties- the members of the ton traipsed through the theatre in preparation for a concert the length of nearly three hours.
Despite not finding yourself too thrilled to sit through hours of sopranos in handmade costumes, you were also grateful for the reprieve from your home.
After returning from your promenade with Rose and a chance encounter with a loathsome hound, you had to share a carriage home with Benjamin who was as stubborn as you. This shared characteristic caused an awkward yet icy half hour spent in the enclosed space of your carriage.
Naturally, when your mother suggested a night in a place Benjamin couldn’t stand, you were all too eager.
She had also told you that an event without your brother might help in reviving what reputation you had left. Though this would prove to be much more difficult than simply attending a performance, for upon your arrival, you felt a weight attach itself to your chest.
Many eyes became transfixed on you in but a single moment. The moment after the initial shift of focus to you came the infamous whisper behind the hand. This whisper was followed by a distinguished laugh that was created to deceive anyone passing by into believing they were not speaking gossip.
You wished to turn around and allow yourself to resign to your room where no one could harm you, verbally or otherwise.
However, you refused to falter. If you just held your head high, refusing to look directly at those who deigned to gossip, perhaps you could make it through the night with your dignity still intact.
“Our box, Mama?” You suggested when noting your own discomfort.
Your mother hummed in agreement as you both made your way to the box the opera house gifted you for your late father’s donations. He always was such a devotee to the arts…
“Lady L/N!” Lady Seon called out to your mother. “Do join us!”
Lady Seon stood beside Her Majesty. You felt your stomach churn, flipping like an acrobat in hopes of making a shilling or two on the street. And your sudden increase in unease was not so unjustified, for the queen sent a gaze to her servants upon taking in your presence.
Your mother took hold of your hand. Her eyes were hopeful, yet you could not feel the same faith as she as you both made your way towards her. You both curtsied before her, a similar feeling to the day of your presentation filling you.
“Your Majesty, good evening,” Your mother greeted charmingly. “You must remember my daughter, Y/N.”
“Yes, she made quite the impression…” The queen spoke plainly. She turned to her secretary. “However fleeting it may have been.”
If your stomach had been spinning before, it was now completely halted. You felt as though a wave of hot embarrassment had washed over you, causing the temperature in your cheeks to rise. You watched in complete mortification as she moved towards her special box, not evening having the strength to curtsy once again.
Lady Seon, seemingly unfazed by such an event, turned towards you, speaking with dictate, “I would like to welcome you both to my box this evening. I insist.”
Lady Seon, while not of much title, was a woman who held an air of respect. For some, people offered a false regard due to her raising a duke and then letting six other hellions run rampant through her estate, and hoped that perhaps an alliance with her might increase their daughter’s chance at a fortunate marriage. For others, they simply feared being on the bad side of a woman who had enough gaul to speak up without fear of consequence.
You just knew her as a family friend, though. So accepting such an offer was only instinct.
Trailing behind Lady Seon and your mother who made light conversation as they walked up the stairs to the private boxes. You, however, strayed a bit behind. You could not help but let your eyes dance about the space, taking a simple joy in the marvel that the architecture provided.
Most of the walls were draped in red velvet curtains, as you assumed that what was underneath was nothing more than brick and mortar. Candelabras stood tall throughout the theater, allowing the patrons to make their way to the seats. No light could match that of the elegant chandelier that illuminated the room with its glistening crystals. It hung above the crowds, swaying slightly with the movement of nearly a hundred people flitting about the space. You wondered what a view might be like from such a height.
Though mere high ceilings and chandeliers could not keep the odd feelings that were festering in your mind at bay. It was an odd tickling at the back of your mind that was causing you some distress. The way others had stared at you only mere minutes ago was only what you could describe as a mocking child who would be scolded should their parent find them speaking so vilely.
Yet now, their eyes were a bit wide with surprise and said eyes followed you before flicking to Lady Seon, and then to her private box. It was as if they were stunned to see you walking behind Lady Seon despite having done so countless times before. What ever could be the reason for the quick change in attitude?
“Boys,” Lady Seon called. “I trust you recall Lady L/N?”
Oh.
Your mother curtsied, and her doing so gave you just enough of a view to see two heads of dark hair. The overwhelming sense of dread gave you no head start before it took hold of you.
“And you also must recall her daughter-”
“Miss L/N,” The voice that answered was deep, sultry, and one you hadn’t heard for quite some time.
Mama and Lady Seon moved in a departure that could rival that of the Red Sea in dramatics. In doing so, they revealed two figures whom you knew you would have to meet again- truly, were you running into these men on a timed schedule?- yet trembled at the thought.
Kim Seokjin, Earl of Scarborough, was the oldest of the seven and somehow the most mature yet immature of their bunch. He was always so loud, brandishing an air of chaos yet found the restrain to reel in the youngest of them.
In appearance, he hadn’t changed in the slightest. When he had left, he had already grown into himself. Much like his personality, everything about his facial features was big. From the fullness of his lips to the perfectly circular shape of his dark brown irises, every part of his face shouted at you with an inflated sense of grandeur.
Where Lord Kim exuded grandiosity, the Marquess of Hertford, Min Yoongi was adverse with an appearance of slight demeanor. His eyes were narrow, and they had always reminded you of a cat; slender and focused, always observing the things he was interested in while never giving second thought to the things he didn’t.
As mentioned prior, Lord Min was of a more reserved type. He did not smile often, but in the off chance he did, his thin lips would curl, revealing the pink gums that lay underneath. For now, though, he chose to give a closed-mouth simper as a means of greeting.
Once again finding yourself bound by society’s graces, you followed in your mother’s prior movement. You muttered out a greeting, but a disguised swat at your arm from your mother elicited a louder acknowledgement.
“Lord Kim, Lord Min,” You addressed. “How… surprising it is to see you.”
“Miss L/N,” Lord Kim beamed. “You have grown so much since we last met!”
Lord Kim, though not much older than you where a few flirtatious remarks would be deemed inappropriate. Though, in truth, nothing a man did could ever be labeled as such, especially where there were no standards or age restrictions for courtships.
However, had there been, you had doubts that it would stop such behavior from Lord Kim. Known to be ever the philanderer, nearing a title of “rakehall,” Lord Kim would often partake in the teasing of ladies who had the misfortune of entering his vicinity. So despite the words he spoke seeming to be nothing more than a mere observation, you could ascertain that they were layered with jest.
"I cannot say the same for you. You both appear as if you had not even left… what a pity.” You smirked.
“Y/N, please-” Your mama spoke through gritted teeth in what was supposed to be a smile.
“Always a pleasure to see you, Miss L/N,” Lord Min said with a face of stone. Some things rarely ever change.
“Yes,” You nodded stiffly. “A pleasure indeed.”
Your mother and Lady Seon had taken seats in the row behind Lord Kim and Lord Min, yet there were only two in that row. You felt a prick of annoyance but made no action to request for a change of order. If you were to sit beside one twit, you would at least do it with a shred of decorum.
Lord Kim and Lord Min had appeared to have other plans in store for you. There were three seats closest to the stage, and in some attempt at getting a rise out of you, Lord Min and Lord Kim had decided to fill the seats on each end, leaving the only remaining in the center.
You liked to think yourself a rather patient person when simple vexations were placed before you. Yet this was no simple vexation. This seemed too deliberate to be a coincidence, especially where these men were concerned.
You had standards for yourself, and you would not go quietly in this silent battle between yourself and them.
“Lord Kim,” You sighed as kindly as you could when faced with two humanized donkeys. “Would you be ever the gentleman and perhaps allow me to sit in your seat?”
“Forgive me, but I do quite enjoy this particular seat.” He was not forgiven in the slightest.
You were not sure what you should have expected. Even so, you were not going to allow them the satisfaction of seeing you cause a fuss over a simple seating arrangement. You lowered yourself to sitting between two unlicked cubs who would no doubt make teasing conversation with you on the subject of this unfortunate event.
You were gracious that the opera was starting. The roar of violas and cellos and any instrument you could envision kept their venomous tongues sealed within their mouths. If this continued for, say, the next three hours, perhaps you would title yourself a lover of the theater after all.
“So, Miss L/N,” Lord Kim prompted after a near fifteen minutes of contented silence. “How have you been these past two years? The season treating you well?”
It was a question that must have had a tier of mockery to it. Anyone with eyesight and the capability to read was aware that you were not faring well. Even if they were above reading Lady Whistledown as you wished you could be, it would only require a functioning ear to know that you were nearly off the marriage market.
Even if lying was an act you did not enjoy partaking in, you thought it best for your ego to bite your tongue on the truth of the matter. “I suppose it has. Though I do suppose it would not be treating me kindly now that I am in your presence.“
Your mama seemed to be invested in conversation with Lady Seon, leaving you a grateful woman. She had not overheard your attempted injury to Lord Kim and Lord Min’s pride. Perhaps it were the only part of this excursion that was tolerable.
“Ah, yes,” Lord Min drawled. “The others did say you were as feisty as ever. Perhaps you have not grownas much as we once assumed.”
Lord Min was in no way referring to height as Lord Kim had before. You had no doubt that he was referring to your level of maturity. True, you did not do much in your youth to filter your thoughts when with the seven of them. In that category, very little has changed. However, this gave them no right to speak on matters they knew nothing about!
You scoffed resentfully, “I can assure you that I have grown, as it were, much more than you believe. You cannot make such judgements after being away for so long! And I would ask of you to refrain from speaking of me in private, my lords. I find those who speak of others when they are unaware have the worst things to say.”
“Ah, just how little do you think of us, Miss L/N?”
“Very.” You rolled your eyes.
“I fear that is rather hypocritical of you, Miss L/N,” Lord Min remarked. “Was it not you who spoke of me without my knowledge only early in the day? I cannot recall Jimin’s exact words… What had he said again, Seokjin?”
“I believe he said that Miss L/N believed you would find ‘dismal demeanor’ to be attractive. Rather a nasty thing to proclaim so naturally. Am I correct in that belief, Miss L/N?” Lord Kim spoke with an impish grin.
You felt your face grow hot with embarrassment. You were caught, that much you knew and were not stupid enough to combat. You really should have known that Park Jimin would keep on his promise of informing Lord Min of your words said in passing with Rose. The scoundrel he was…
Because you were found out, you decided to lift your theater binoculars to your eyes so that you might avoid further interrogation into your hypocrisy. Save for a few mumbles of irritation, you remained mute as to focus on the scene before you. As fate would have it, you were not to entirely focus on such a thing.
“If you must know, Miss L/N,” You felt the whisper of his breath fan across the bareness of your neck. The sudden puff of air against your skin made you flinch, and such a vulnerable action made your already burning cheeks feel as though they were lit ablaze. “I do not find myself particularly enamored by ladies with a dreary countenance. They tend to be rather… boring.”
You could not see him, but you knew that he must have been close to your face for the warmth of his breath to hit you as it had. In knowing this, you refused to tear your magnified gaze away from the dark-haired woman belting arias from the stage. You would not allow him the satisfaction.
“I shall store such information in my memory,” You grumbled. “Hopefully it will be of the short-term.”
“Should you wish to hear what ladies do charm him?” Lord Kim questioned.
“Should I be privy to such information, Lord Kim?” You crossed, finally removing your glasses.
Not even a moment later and you wished you had remained stagnant. You wished to glare at his lordship, but found your face hardened in a flustered distinction.
You had accounted for Lord Min being relatively close to your person, yet you had not done the same for Lord Kim. His voice had not protruded your space as Lord Min’s did, so when you went to confront him, you were completely struck dumb to see him mere inches from your face.
You concluded that Lady Seon and your mother must have been deep in discussion, for any chaperone of a decent caliber would never allow such proximity between two single people, especially with one being a young lady like yourself.
That knowledge made you cripple with worry, for these boxes, though deemed private, were anything but. You surmised that people were already talking when they realized you were to be seated with the two.
Your only solace that this moment would not be seen as intimacy as merely as three people making conversation was that whispering to others during performances was not so uncommon. You desired to share in their blissful ignorance, yet fate did not seem to favor you this day.
“May you please remove yourself from my space, Lord Kim?” You asked
“I may,” He said plainly. “I also may not.” Once again, you were unsure as to why you even asked him politely.
“You are intolerable.”
“What you can and cannot tolerate is of no concern to me.”
“If you believe yourself to be endearing, you are misguided in your beliefs.”
You decided to take matters into your own hands. You slumped into your seat in a rather unladylike fashion. You thought it would work to slip away from their close proximity, but Lord Kim had followed suit in your slouch. Lord Min merely chuckled at your frustration.
“You have no shame,” You spat. “Both of you.”
“Living life with shame makes for a rather miserable life, you know.” Yoongi stated.
“Yes, well,” You scowled at him. “It is rather easy to live without shame when there are few shameful moments in your life to plague you. Some of us have to bear such burdens.”
They seemed to understand your words faster than you did. Their sudden lack of confidence and newfound silence was jarring to you until you discerned what you said that might cause such a shift. It seemed that today was just filled with constant reminders…
What have you done?
The echo of Lord Kim’s past words bounced about your mind before being washed away with the crash of symbols and plucking of violin strings. You focused on the music, yet even a symphony could keep you from a quick travel through your most suppressed memories.
You felt an itch on your arm.
“The alto is rather pitchy.” Lord Kim noted.
“As is the mezzo.” Lord Min agreed.
“The soprano is rather nice.” You mentioned.
"I have wonderful news, dearest,” Your mother spoke giddily as you boarded your carriage for the night.
The rest of the concert was spent in relative silence save for a few comments here and there. It seemed that your allusion to the past had made Lord Kim and Lord Min uncomfortable enough to spare you from further torment.
Still, you had been spent, exhaustion seeping into your skin and through your blood so that every muscle was heavy. You had not realized how tense you had been the entire night until you were seated in an environment that didn’t require you to be on guard.
“Hmm?” You hummed.
“I have secured you a suitor for the Salisbury ball tomorrow night!”
“That’s nice…” You murmured, too fatigued to connect the dots together.
“Excellent, I am glad that you agree!” Your mother smiled. “We shall meet the Duke upon our arrival.”
Your once relaxed muscles become rigid in a single moment. You sat straighter, your heart picking up in pace. “W-What?”
You felt as though you were going to be sick. Surely your mother could not have meant Kim Namjoon was to accompany you to such a public event! Unless… unless it were not he that she was referring to… If it were not, surely that could not have meant…
“T-The Duke of… um, Hastings?” Your own voice was failing you, stammers and stutters that you never dealt with before.
“No, dearest,” She replied. You felt your muscles regain the tension it held in the previous hours at this response. You had prayed that her next words would be different, yet they were just as you feared. “Jeon Jungkook, the Duke of Wellington has apparently shown an interest in you! As is the Baron Kim, dearest! We’re to attend a brunch with him and Lady Seon before the festivities! Oh, Y/N, isn’t this just wonderful?”
Wonderful.
Wonderful.
You would have chosen a much angrier word. A word that could convey how utterly sick to your stomach you felt knowing that you would have to hold Jeon Jungkook’s hand once again. You felt as though there was no word in the English lexicon that could convey every sweltering emotion racking your body.
The argument rested on your tongue with bitterness and the scorch of burning, like if someone poured a cup of coffee onto it. You wished to scream, to cry, to know that with the sword her majesty gave you not long ago, you could continue to fight without diving to such depths. And yet…
You had not seen such a glimmer in your mother’s eyes for days. Much like yourself, your mother had felt the burden of your predicament. For so long, it felt like despair and a bleak future was all that was ahead of you. This was the first time you’d seen even a sparkle of hope in the eyes that so resembled yours.
What have you done?
Rain tapped at the carriage window. You hated the rain. “Yes… I am so… very excited, Mama.”
a/n:one blue raspberry bang energy drink later… and the sky is now bright. please forgive the errors if you see any, i am fatigued
Summary: Namjoon and Y/N go to do some Christmas shopping and Namjoon lets Y/N have some free reign with his credit card as a treat. But when she buys something that causes things to go from soft to steamy.
Warnings: Tooth-rotting fluff, and smut. Namjoon can’t get enough of the lingerie set Y/N bought basically
“Next year I could be just as good, if you check off my Christmas list”
“Baby…”
Y/N hummed in her sleep, cuddling into the pillow more. She had fallen asleep in Namjoon’s room after the two had watched a movie together and cuddled. There may have been a handjob and some fingering under the blanket, but that was an added plus to the night.
She felt Namjoon press kisses to her exposed cheek. “It’s time to wake up, beautiful.”
She whined and lifted her arms up with her eyes still closed. She felt Namjoon wrap his arms around her waist and lift her up, setting her on his lap. She leaned forward and rested her head on his shoulder.
“What time is it?” She asked slowly.
“Just past nine.” Namjoon replied. She hummed and inhaled his scent of faint cologne, books and leather. “Are you starting to wake up?” She nodded. He rubbed her back and kissed the top of her head. “That’s good. Do you want to shower or are you going to do that later?”
“I showered last night so I’ll do it later.” She whispered. “Remember?”
“I remember, baby.” He chuckled. “You still need to get changed though.”
“But I’m comfy.” She pointed out.
“I know, baby. I am too. But we’re going shopping tomorrow, and we can’t go in our pyjamas can we?”
“No.” Y/N agreed. She sat up slowly and looked at Namjoon through bleary eyes. “Good morning.”
“Good morning, baby.” He said, pushing her hair out of her face. “I take it you slept well?”
“Yup. I like sleeping with you. You’re nice to cuddle.” Y/N replied. She had woken up a lot more now. It was true, Namjoon was nice to cuddle. It was well known that he was tall and had muscles to die for, which meant that Y/N would be engulfed whenever he cuddled her.
“Thank you, baby.” Namjoon leaned forward and kissed her softly.
“Morning breath.” Y/N wrinkled her nose, making Namjoon chuckle, his dimples showing. She reached forward and poked one. “That dimple is illegal.” She said.
“Using my own song lyrics against me.” Namjoon feigned shock before tapping her thigh. “Okay, let’s go and get ready and then we can do some Christmas shopping for everyone. And as a treat since you’ve been so good, I will let you get whatever you want, okay?”
“Anything?” Y/N asked. Namjoon nodded.
“Anything my baby wants, she will get.” He said. “And she doesn’t have to wait until Christmas to use them.”
“Thank you, Joonie.” She said kissing him again. She slid off his lap. “Let’s get ready!”
——————–
“Alright, baby, where to first?” Namjoon asked. Y/N looked around. She needed to buy the boys their presents and she already knew what she was going to get each of them, but it was going to be hard buying Namjoon’s.
She decided to get Taehyung’s present first. She had seen him looking at some Gucci lingerie online a few days ago but had not bought anything from it. He was probably self-restraining to see what he got for Christmas. So, she had done some looking and found the perfect thing for him. It was a bodysuit that had black floral lace on it. It would suit Tae perfectly.
“Gucci?” She asked. “I need to get TaeTae’s present.”
“What are you getting Tae?” Namjoon asked curiously.
“You’ll see.” She said as they entered the store. With the help of one of the store assistants, she located the body suit. It was even more perfect in person.
“He is going to look beautiful in that.” Namjoon murmured as she dug around in her purse to find her card. He noticed this. “Hey, I thought I was paying.”
“Not for the presents for the boys, oppa.” She said, pulling out her card and paying. “Those are the things I want to buy myself.” She did now have a job that paid decently well. She was a dance choreographer for Hybe, but she mainly worked with TXT and Enhypen. Occasionally she would work with BTS, but those times were rare because they had their own choreographers that they had been working with for years and it wouldn’t make sense to completely change up the style just so they could work with their soulmate. It also removed any distractions, especially Yoongi, who could not keep his hands off her when she wore leggings.
“Can we get another one of these in size medium, please.” Namjoon requested. The woman behind the counter nodded and disappeared to get a second bodysuit. Y/N looked up at him questioningly. “I’ll be damned if I don’t see you wearing that.” He said. “You and Tae in matching lingerie will be a sigh to behold.”
“Control your horniness, oppa.” She chided, dangling the bag off her wrist and putting away her card. “We are in public.”
“It’s kind of hard to control when you are buying lacy lingerie in front of me.” Namjoon hissed.
Y/N giggled. “Oops?” Namjoon sighed and playfully rolled his eyes. “Can we go to Chanel next? I saw the perfect jacket for Jimin.”
“Of course, baby.” Namjoon said, kissing the top of her head. “That’s where I wanted to get part of your present from as well.”
“Part of my present?” Y/N looked at him. She thought they were only getting each other one thing each.
“After everything you’ve been through this year, we decided that we wanted to thoroughly spoil you and get you whatever we wanted to.” Namjoon explained.
“But…”
“No buts, baby. You still are getting everyone one thing, though.” He said authoratively. Y/N pursed her lips and stayed quiet. These boys would find every possible excuse to spoil her and she wouldn’t ever be able to stop them.
In Chanel, Y/N bought Jimin’s jacket, which was black silk and would suit Jimin perfectly. Namjoon had gone off with another store attendant to get her present, which from the looks of things was jewellery.
A couple of hours later, they finally sat down for lunch. Y/N had got presents for everyone but Jungkook and Namjoon. For Hoseok she had got an AOI Icon black hoodie, a white t-shirt, and some bleached red jeans all from Supreme. Since she now knew that the boys were getting her more than one thing, she decided that she was also going to break the one item rule, especially because Jimin and Taehyung had quite expensive presents. She also got Hoseok a trinity ring from Cartier which was silver, gold and black. Also from Cartier, she got Taehyung a trinity bracelet that was white gold, yellow gold and rose gold.
She also got Jimin a soft knitted blanket since she knew how much he liked to wrap up in as many blankets as possible when they were watching movies together, but his blanket was getting old and ragged.
For Seokjin she had got some new cooking pans that were really high quality and she also got him a pair of rose gold orchid earrings, also from Cartier.
And for Yoongi she had got him a Fear of God Monarch sweatshirt, that she would definitlely be stealing, and a silver necklace with a lock on it from Louis Vuitton.
Namjoon had also treated her with a couple of items from each of the shops. He had bought her a white Supreme hoodie that matched the one she had bought Hoseok with the promise that he would wear it for a bit so it smelt like him. From Cartier, he had got her a pair of trinity earrings that were diamond encrusted. From Fear of God he got her a sweatshirt that he was going to give to Jungkook to wear and then she was going to have it back. And from Louis Vuitton, he got her a small leather backpack.
“What can I get for you today?” A waiter came over to the table. He smiled warmly at Y/N before dropping the smile when he looked at Namjoon.
Namjoon clenched his jaw and cleared his throat before looking over the menu once more. “We’ll get the afternoon tea to share, and two portions of the coconut mochi.” He said before closing the menu and handing it to the waiter.
“And anything for the pretty lady?” The waiter asked, making Y/N shift in discomfort, which Namjoon noticed.
“I’m going to kindly ask you to not speak to my girlfriend like that.” Namjoon said, trying to keep himself calm. “Unless you want to be done for harassment.”
“I’m sorry, sir. I did not think.” The waiter said quickly, the threat that Namjoon had given clearly hitting too close to home. “I will go and get your order.”
Namjoon nodded tightly, his jaw still clenched. “I would also like to request another waiter, please. You’ve made my girl uncomfortable and I don’t want that happening to her.”
“Of course, sir.” The waiter disappeared.
“Thank you, Joonie.” Y/N said quietly. He grabbed hold of her hand and stroked the back of it with her thumb.
“He was making you uncomfortable and that’s not right.” Namjoon pointed out. “Nobody should make you feel uncomfortable. If they do, you come and tell me straight away.”
“I’ll always tell you.” Y/N said. A waitress came over to the table with their items.
“Here is your food and drinks. I’m so sorry about the previous waiter, I promise it will never happen again.” She said to the pair.
Namjoon nodded and smiled, his dimples showing. “Thank you so much.”
“Enjoy your meal.” The waitress bowed and walked away.
“Smile baby.” Namjoon pulled out his phone to take some pictures of Y/N. “My beautiful lunch date.”
“Stopppp.” Y/N whined, hiding her face.
“Aigoo, so cute.” Namjoon cooed, still taking pictures of her.
“Joonie oppa.” Y/N removed her hands from her face to playfully glare at Namjoon.
“Just one smile, baby, please. For me.” Namjoon begged, making Y/N roll her eyes and smile for Namjoon. “Absolutely beautiful.” Namjoon said as he looked at the photos he had taken.
Y/N pulled out her phone and took some photos of Namjoon without him realising. They were of him smiling down at his phone.
“So handsome.” Y/N said, making him look up at her, still smiling. “Got it!” She took a picture of him. “Perfect.”
“You’re perfect, baby.” Namjoon said. Y/N blushed and took a sip from her tea.
“Thank you, oppa.” She whispered.
Namjoon reached forward and grabbed one of the sandwiches. “Any time, baby. Now eat up. We’ve still got shops to go to, and you’re going to need your energy.”
Y/N reached forward and grabbed a smoked salmon and cream cheese sandwich. “This place is so cute. I love it here.”
“I know.” Namjoon was silent for a second. “You know what, this can be our place where we go on our more casual dates.”
“I’d like that.” Y/N smiled. “Just me and you.”
“I love you, baby.” Namjoon said, taking another sandwich from the tray in front of them.
“I love you, oppa.” Y/N replied, picking up one of the mochi.
“You love mochi, don’t you?” He chuckled. Y/N nodded, her mouth full. “Cute.”
“Try one, they’re so good.” She said after she swallowed. She thrust one into Namjoon’s face.
“Okay, baby.” He opened his mouth and allowed her to feed him.
——————–
“Last shop.” Y/N announced as they reached the lingerie store. They had gone to Balenciaga, where Y/N had bought a pair of black lace-up boots with white chunky soles for Jungkook, which Namjoon had got a pair for her in white. They then stopped in Prada, where she had bought a knitted cashmere hoodie for Namjoon. Namjoon had bought her another gift from Prada as well. They also stopped at the bookstore where she had got Namjoon some new philosophical books, and Namjoon had treated her to some new fantasy and romance books, with the promise of a reading date and a picnic when it was warmer.
“Are you planning to get something for Tae here?” Namjoon asked.
Y/N turned and smiled at him slyly. “Nope.” She said. “This is all gonna be for me.”
“All of it?”
“Every single one.” She whispered in his ear. “And you never know, I could give you a fashion show when we get back.”
Namjoon groaned. “There’s no could about that. You are giving me a fashion show and then I’m gonna fuck you nice and hard.” He said in her ear. Y/N let out a shaky breath and pressed her thighs together.
“Yes, Daddy.” She smirked before disappearing into the store.
“Fucking hell.” Namjoon muttered under his breath before following her inside.
——————–
“Are you ready for the show, Daddy?” Y/N asked from the adjoining bathroom to Namjoon’s bedroom.
Namjoon sat up immediately, his feet braced on the floor. He was sat on the edge of the bed. “I’m always ready for you, baby.” He was already hard in his pants, but it wasn’t unbearable. “How many do you have to show me?”
“Around six.” Y/N called back.
“Ok, come on out then, kitten.” Namjoon said. He had his eyes trained on the door, waiting with baited breath for her to come out. The first outfit was a red corset style top with matching red panties.
“I’ve left the most scandalous for last.” She said, stopping in front of Namjoon and posing with her hands on her hips.
“Let me see the back.” He said, his mouth dry. She looked stunning. The panties framed her ass perfectly.
“You look stunning, kitten.” Namjoon said. “Let’s see the next one.”
Each one got more and more scandalous. Next was an open-back lacy black babydoll style top with a pink bow and a cute little skirt attached, which had matching black panties. Then she came out wearing a one piece that was mesh and see through with lacy detail on the cups and shiny straps that had crystals on them.
The next few gave Namjoon a small heart attack when she showed them to him. The first was a blue lace one piece that was basically just strings in the back holding it together. It basically only covered the front of her. The next one was a similar style but had even less fabric in the front and it was an aqua colour. But it was the final one that made Namjoon the hardest he had ever been.
It was pretty much just bands that covered her up. Red bands that left little to the imagination.
“Look at you, kitten.” Namjoon pulled her onto his lap. “Dressed up so pretty for Daddy.”
“Thank you, Daddy.” She said, a smile on her face. One of the things that Namjoon loved the most about Y/N was that while she had a praise kink, they also found out that she had a slight degradation kink once she had fully recovered from the trauma Jackson had evoked on her.
“Are you gonna be a good girl for Daddy?” He asked, trailing his fingers up and down her sides.
“I’m always Daddy’s good girl.” She said sassily. “But tonight, I wanna be Daddy’s little slut.”
“Well you certainly look like a little slut.” Namjoon said. “Alright, get on the bed with your ass up because I don’t remember giving you permission to buy all these slutty outfits.”
“But you said I could buy whatever I wanted, Daddy.” She purred, not getting off his lap, but instead grinding down on his lap. “And you’re already so hard. Let me help you.”
“Excuse me, kitten, but are you disobeying me?” Namjoon tightened his grip on her hips, making her stop moving. “I won’t repeat myself again. On the bed. Ass up. Face down. Am I clear?”
“Are you gonna spank me, Daddy? Make me even more wet?” She asked, getting off his lap and positioning herself on the bed.
“You’re getting 10 spanks, little whore. And then you’re going to take my cock in your slutty little mouth if you can handle that.”
Namjoon knelt on the bed behind her and ran a hand over her exposed ass. “This can’t even be classed as clothes. It’s just red bands that cover you up.”
“I bought it just for you Daddy. I knew you’d like it.”
“You look absolutely stunning in it, baby, but since you’ve been acting like a little brat who is just desperate for my cock, isn’t that right?” He said. “Nothing like my good little girl. She’s been replaced by some cock-hungry whore.”
Y/N let out a moan and wiggled her ass, desperate for some friction.
“Count, you needy slut.” He spanked her 10 times, each time she counted and thanked him.
Namjoon looked at his handiwork and smiled. Her ass was all red. “So pretty for me.” He said. “Now, I would rip this off you, but since you’ve just got it, I’m going to let you take it off and not let it get ruined. Because I know for a fact your Sir and Master and Oppa would love to see you in it.”
“Please I need your cock, Daddy.” She said after she’d taken off the lingerie.
“Beg for it. Beg for me to fuck your mouth, even though you don’t deserve it.” Namjoon ordered.
“Please, Daddy. I need your cock to make me into a good girl. I want it in my mouth so bad. I need to taste you.” She begged. “Please.”
“Get on your knees.” Namjoon ordered. He pulled off his shirt and trousers and boxers. He knelt in front of Y/N and cupped her cheek. “Colour, baby?”
“I’m green.” She replied. “I would like a kiss though.”
Namjoon leaned forward and connected their lips. “Good girl.” He said. “Now, suck.” He shoved her head down to his cock. He groaned as her wet mouth engulfed his tip and sucked. “Look up at me.” Their eyes met as he pushed his cock further into her mouth. She gagged slightly before controlling the reflex.
“Such a good girl, taking my entire cock in your mouth.” Namjoon praised. She moaned, the sound vibrating down his shaft. He moved his hips, causing small, wet sounds to come from her throat as he fucked it.
After a few more minutes, he pulled her off. “Lie down.” He ordered. She did so, wiping the spit off her mouth with the back of her hand.
“Colour, baby?”
“Green, Daddy.” Y/N’s voice was slightly scratchy.
“Are you sure, baby? I can be less harsh?” Namjoon wasn’t entirely convinced by Y/N’s answer.
“Is that okay, Joonie? Just wanna be us, nothing else.” Y/N admitted.
Namjoon hummed and settled over her. “Of course we can, baby.” He said, looking down at her lovingly. “Just us.”
“Just us.” Y/N repeated, leaning up to kiss him. Namjoon trailed a hand down her body, fingers brushing over her nipples, causing gasps and small moans to fall from her lips. “Please, please, please.” She pleaded.
Namjoon hushed her as he trailed kisses down her neck. “I’ve got you. It’s okay. I’m going to give you what you want.” He reassured her as she wrapped her arms around his neck. He moved his fingers down to her pussy and moved them up and down before pressing two inside of her.
“You’re soaked baby. So ready for me, hm?” He asked.
“Yes, please. I need you.” She said.
“You’ve got me. You have all of me.” Namjoon said, positioning the head of his cock at her entrance.
“Oh, fuck.” She moaned out as he pushed inside. She was tight and warm.
“You feel so good, baby. You always do.” Namjoon said, moving his hips slowly, coaxing small moans out of her every now and then.
“So good, so good.” She moaned, letting out a whine as Namjoon rubbed his thumb over her clit. He moved his head up from her neck to kiss her.
“I know baby. You like feeling good, don’t you?” He asked. Y/N moaned and nodded, getting tigher around her.
“I’m close.” She said.
“I know, baby. So am I.” Namjoon said. He moaned as he felt the knot in his stomach getting tighter. “Cum whenever you want, baby. I’ve got you.”
Y/N moaned and pressed up into his thumb as she let go. Her legs shook and her back arched as moan after moan fell from her pretty lips. Namjoon was close behind, his hips stuttering and eventually stilling as he spilled into her.
“Thank you, Joonie.” She whispered, kissing him gently. He slowly pulled out of her and rolled off her, pulling her close.
“You don’t need to thank me, baby.” He said.
“I love you.”
“I love you too. Now get some sleep, you’ve had a long day.” He said, kissing the top of her forehead. “I’ll be here when you wake up.”
⤷Genre:romance; fluff; boyfriend!namjoon x girlfriend!reader.
⤷Warnings:themes of insecurity.
Namjoon’s hands were your haven.
And you were simply entranced by them, from the meticulous sculpt of his slim fingers that rivaled the finest art pieces to how they entangled with your own so perfectly.
You loved nothing more than to simply admire them from afar, but once your eyes delved into the perfectly sculpted crevices and nooks of his appendages, little else mattered.
And though they often brought graceless destruction to so much around him, there was no place you felt was safer than when your hands intertwined with his. And when his thumb tenderly rubbed soothing shapes into your palm, there was nothing that could touch you.
So you loved to merely touch them at all times, and every opportunity to hold them within your own was never overlooked; much to your shy boyfriend’s dismay.
Even now, as your own hands delicately played with his lithe fingers, not even the glittering Cosmos could capture your attention.
The image of his deft fingers curling around his fountain pen as he wrote whatever lyrics he conjured was almost far too tempting to merely forget, which resulted in your thievery of his limbs.
It was only once the twinkle of your eyes faded from your lover’s view did he care for your play as you placed your palm against his, seemingly comparing the two.
“What’s wrong, little peach?” His voice spilled from his lips like a soothing tea, waiting to warm and comfort you after a long day.
Your brows furrowed as your fingers hesitantly slipped from his own and a soft sigh pushed past your lips. “Nothing.”
A frown fell upon his dewy lips whilst his broad hands pulled away from your grasp just to wrap around your own that hid from him within your sleeves.
“I know when somethings bothering you, peach. Don’t lie to me.”
Though his demands were delicate to your ears, you winced at his soft whispers, you hated it when his voice gently delved into the soft tone that made you want to open your whole heart to him, and never twist the truth in the slightest.
Namjoon was much like a truth serum, the softest moments with him could easily pour the truth from your lips, without much of an effort from your boyfriend.
“It’s just so stupid, but I’ve been thinking about our hands.” You awkwardly confessed only for a wordless nod and a gentle smile from your boyfriend, that urged you to tell him all that troubled you.
“And how beautiful yours are- just like the rest of you,” you gestured to his strong body, before a quiescent chuckle bubbled from him just to flutter your heart before he beckoned you into his lap, “and mine just don’t feel worthy.”
His strong arms tangled around your waist whilst his nose tenderly traced your cheek, and his fingers you adored so much filled the empty spaces between your own.
“Nothing from you will ever be stupid to me.” He assured you, tapping the tip of your nose with his fingers before he brought your hands between your chests.
“And you should know these are so beautiful.”
He praised ever so softly, as if a breath would shatter the hands his fingertips grazed, before he carefully pressed his lips to your smallest finger and dipped his lips to next, he kissed every imperfection and blemish ten times before repeating his soft kisses ten times more.
Once he drew his velvety lips from the back from your hands, the warmth he placed within your belly burned along with your curiosity.
“Why?”
His head fell back just enough to look into your eyes as his hands rested upon the small of your back and hips, as goosebumps followed the path of his fingers along your spine.
“Because each one of them are yours.” He stated, as if it were an answer so clear, written within classic literature as a fact of life, and you were baffled at just how perfect he was to you.
Your lips parted in the stunned silence he hushed you with, unable to comprehend an answer to his beautiful comforts; but you hadn’t need to say anything at all for him interlace his hands with yours, to emphasize just how immaculately they joined together.
“If they weren’t, they could never fit so perfectly with mine.” He whispered, his eyes never leaving your tangled fingers until his twinkling eyes looked into yours.
“Everything about you is perfect for me, little peach.”
Perhaps it was the sincerity of his eyes locked upon yours, or how his hand that wasn’t wrapped so tightly within your own gently tucked your hair behind your ear, but you were far too wrought with his words to form your own.
So you did all you knew to do, you wordlessly mashed your lips into his own that had simply been pleading with you to kiss them at last.
The hold he had upon your hand tightened as his other hand cupped your cheek with a gentleness you could only expect from Namjoon, as he sweetly returned your shy kisses.
He gave you all of his understanding and love until your fears were irrelevant, all the while your hand remained tightly enclosed within his.
Through a series of curious happenstances, the Boys of Bangtan - your campus’ most popular and most handsome group of individuals - set their sights on you, a regular student with a stubborn streak and a wayward mouth.
Strangely enough, the mere sight of them sets your instincts off, red-lights flashing in your brain - danger, danger, danger, danger.
It’s too bad that they can’t seem to leave you alone, though. They like you too much.
(angst / smut / yandere / fluff / gore)
Masterlist / i dont have a tag list / find me on twitter / word count: 4.6k
(AN: Hi, all! This story is actually already posted on AO3. But, I decided to post it on here. I have almost 50 chapters of this story up over there, so I’ll slowly be adding them onto here too)
tw: drug use (not by main characters), alcohol, vomiting, crude language, nudity, possessive language
Chapter 19 ‘Intoxication’
The rest of the week passes by quickly, and before you know it, it’s the afternoon of the mixer at the EXO frat house.
You’ve always liked going to parties, dancing the night away until sweat is damp at your temples and your legs ache the next day because of how energetic you were being. You liked dressing up nicely, getting your makeup done and feeling pampered, which is why you didn’t argue with Young-mi when she dragged you to a pedicure appointment, citing your recent class stress as a reason to get taken care of.
After getting your toenails and fingers painted the same opalescent white that shone prettily under the light, Young-mi grabs an outfit from the nearest department store, after scanning the aisles for nearly an hour. There’s a reason why you order clothes online, you can’t stand the lengthy experience of being in a store for nearly half the day.
“What do you think about this one?” It’s a black and yellow co-ord, strappy set. Wide leg pants and covered in sunflowers. It would suit her skin tone prettily, and her toned stomach peeks out, unwittingly seductive. She’s barefoot, but you assume she would wear a simple pair of heels with it to complete the whole look. She gives you a cursory spin, arms out, and her expression is somewhat shy as she asks, “Too much?”
“No, it looks lovely,” you reply. And you aren’t lying, but you’ve said the same thing about the last four outfits she has tried on in the same flat tone. She gives you a nasty look before drawing the curtain closed with a low huff and the sound of shuffling clothes tells you she’s in a bad mood. “Honestly, Young-mi, you’ll look amazing in anything.”
“I don’t want to look amazing, I need to look fuckable,” she grumbles.
“The pants do make your ass look good,” you compliment, with a giggle. “But, the dresses mean easy access.”
You had already grabbed an outfit from the sale rack (you were on a budget, damn it) but you were happy with the quality and the style of the clothes, so you couldn’t complain. It fit nicely, and you know with your hair done and after shaving your legs (finally) you would feel much more confident in it. A small part of you wonders if the boys might find you pretty in it, and you feel your cheeks heat up at the thought so you quickly stamp on.
“Fine, fine. I think I’ll get the first and last one,” she says, rolling the clothes over her arm and handing the discarded outfit to the attendee by the door. The two of you join the queue when she asks, “Are you going to let me do your makeup tonight?”
“You know I’m hopeless at that,” you laugh. “I can just about do my eyebrows, and that’s only after you taught me.”
“I promise I won’t do too much,” she tells you, with a secret smile. “You’ll look amazing.”
Famous last words, you suppose.
———
“You said you wouldn’t do too much,” you groan, staring at your reflection in surprise. You look stunning, you know that. Your eyes are smoked out with a brown and gold, lined with dark liner, and there are some wispy lashes glued to your lids that make your whole face light up. You admit, she’s talented with a brush and some pretty colors, but you worry that looking so… appealing with all this on your face might make you feel self-conscious without it. You gesture to your face with a wave of your fingers, and you mutter, “This is the definition of ‘too much’.”
“Oh, hush,” she says, spinning you back around to face her in the office chair. “Close your mouth.”
You do as you are told. “Good girl.”
She gives you a cute smile and slides some gloss onto your lips before opening and closing her own, looking decidedly like a fish out of water. A gorgeous fish in a white, lace strappy dress but a fish nonetheless. “Do this.”
You copy her gesture, feeling the slick, thick, vanilla-scented gloss stick to your lips. “Is this okay?”
“More than okay,” she tells you. “Go and get dressed.”
You had been a towel for the last hour, letting her do your makeup and hair to compliment your outfit. Young-mi’s face and hair is done already – a classic makeup look on her face, pinks and nudes and beiges on her eyes and peach gloss on her lips making her appear like the main character out of a romance novel from the 20th century, with pin-straight dark hair trailing down her spine.
“We can leave in, like, ten minutes,” she calls from the bathroom, where she’s touching up.
“I’ll call the Uber,” you tell her, stepping into your heels, stumbling slightly. Thankfully, you are wearing booted heels rather than the peep-toes that Young-mi chose to wear. You couldn’t afford to break your ankle tonight. “Fifteen minutes.”
You sit down in the living room after tugging on your clothes and scan your social media. A few messages from the boys greet you and you smile at their tone.
Jimin apparently was volunteering at the local homeless woman’s shelter tonight until the early hours of the morning, something he does quite often apparently, serving food, buying clothes and distributing hygiene products at the local WalMart. Yoongi was deejaying for the night and had already set out, sending a picture of himself in his black mask and bucket hat combination that sent your heart into a mini-frenzy.
Jin had a Skype call with his Dad about business, and you sent him a few gentle words of encouragement, knowing for some reason he didn’t like talking to his Dad for too long. You haven’t pried, and he hasn’t told you yet, so you are waiting patiently for him to do so at his own pace. Taehyung had spent the last 48 hours in the art studio, working on his mid-term illustration project and had been unbelievably stressed out, so he didn’t even reply to any messages, making you think he had long since fallen asleep.
The others had been actively pestering you for the last two hours, peppering you with cute questions that went unanswered while you had spent quality time with your bestie.
You send them a picture of your face, requested by Hobi once you had told them you were going out. The ones who replied don’t seem all too concerned about you going out, thankfully. The idea of them trying to control your movement, regardless of how much you appreciate and care about their opinion, makes you feel stifled, so when you receive nothing but compliments upon compliments, you feel warm spread inside your tummy.
“Are you done?”
Young-mi’s voice takes you by surprise.
Nodding at her, you let her know that the cab it outside and the two of you leave, giggling the entire way.
“The boys like your work,” you tell Young-mi as you both slide into the cab. To the driver, you tell him the address, ignoring his lascivious glance at your chest and exposed skin. Even though you are wearing a jacket, you feel like his stare is burning through the material of your camel coat, and you tighten it closer to you as if to protect your privacy. Asshole.
“Of course, they do,” she says, tossing her hair over her shoulder with a smug wink. “I know what I’m doing, and my canvas was lovely already. It didn’t take much.”
Your phone buzzes and you glance down to see a message from your baby bun.
Joonie-hyung, Hobi-hyung and I decided to go to the party, so look out for us, noona! Your eyes are so beautiful tonight, I can’t wait to see them in person!
Feeling something akin to excitement bubble in your gut as you realize you will get to see the handsome gamer for the first time what feels like ages (you had seen him literally less than 24 hours ago, and yet it still feels like you are going out of your mind with missing his face).
Pulling up at the party, you already feel yourself getting into the mood. You had heard the music pumping from all the way down the street. The walk is quick, hurrying down the road, passing by the oddly parked cars that lined the campus street.
Instantly, you are enveloped by big, long hugs and have drinks thrust into your waiting palms. Young-mi’s classmate and close friend, Seoyeon, kisses your cheek, and you notice that her pupils are blown wide with something that can’t just be alcohol. Drugs haven’t ever been your thing, having dabbled with the odd joint or two in high school but never really pushing past that. She trips up a little in her excitement, and you find her behavior endearing, but you hope she has someone with her that will keep her safe during her come down. Worst-comes-to-worst, it will have to be the two of you.
“YN! You look so pretty!” She compliments, happily, slumping against you with trembling legs. “Have you lost some weight?”
No, you had actually gained some around your hips, but you were happy with the gain of meat on your thighs. Your mom had complained about you losing weight because you weren’t getting regular, home-cooked meals. You shift the blame to Yoongi and Jin for continually filling your tummy with their splendid kitchen concoctions, Hoseok’s consistent late-night treats of pizza and Jimin sneaking bags of spicy tteok into the library for you to snack on after a long day of studying.
Jungkook offered to help you out in the gym if you wanted to lose the weight (“You look perfect the way you are, noona. But if you want to, I’ll help you. I promise I’ll go easy on you. What’s that look for? You don’t believe me?”) but you had never taken him up on it, secretly happy with the wobble and soft skin at your hips.
You drain the mix of red wine and lemonade, humming contentedly at the taste, before going back for a second cup, handing one to Young-mi and another to Seoyeon, who had begun chatting animatedly with some strangers.
Mid-sip, Young-mi jabs you sharply in your ribs, forcing some wine to spurt from your lips in shock. She babbles, gripping your arm excitedly, “Oh! YN! She’s over there. Doesn’t she just look so sexy?”
You look over at the roguish-looking, short-haired, heavily tatted chemistry major who keeps scanning your friend’s with barely-concealed lust in her eyes.
Oh, yes.
She was very sexy, and if Young-mi hadn’t snagged her, you might have given her some attention.
You nudge Young-mi playfully. “She’s totally into you!”
The music is so loud that you need to shout into her ear, so she can hear you.
She looks at you, nervously before she replies, shooting the girl a quick peek, “Are you sure?”
You nod, emphatically, and she takes a deep breath, gathering courage. You nudge her slightly in her direction and say, giddily, the alcohol already getting to your head, “Go for it! Get your pussy wet! One of us has to!”
A heavy hand on your hip makes your back stiffen instantly. It’s only when you realize that the touch is more familiar than you had thought that you relax slightly.
“Who’s getting wet?”
You look over your shoulder to see Jungkook, flushed cheeks and eyes wide, glittering even in the low light of the room, looming over you. (He’s wearing a grey tight shirt underneath an oversized tartan black, grey and white shirt with a matching bucket hat and some simple silver hoops in both of his ears. His hair is a mess of curls, the cherry-red having been touched up and brighter than ever before. He looks edible, if that even makes sense.)
Snorting, you gesture to Young-mi, who is practically stomping across the room to her target. The two of you watch as she taps the girl on the shoulder and leans in, whispering something in her ear, before trailing her hand down her back and pulling her onto the dance-floor.
“I guess Young-mi isn’t coming home with me tonight,” you muse, absently. “Or, maybe she’ll bring her home.”
“She seems really into it,” Jungkook replies, his hand hasn’t moved from where it was resting on the swell of your hip. It feels like it burns through your coat and brands your skin. “Aren’t you hot in that coat, noona?”
He seems concerned and so, even though you weren’t particularly warm now, you nod, and he takes your hand, pulling you through the crowd and leading you into the room off to the left of the door.
“This is where everyone leaves their clothes,” he says, helping you out of your jacket carefully. He hangs the camel coat over the crook of his arm and goes quiet, eyes trailing down the lines of your body, in wonderment. “You look… so beautiful tonight.”
“Young-mi did her job well, I suppose,” you reply, giving him a little spin.
He feels the breath catch in his throat at the sight. The figure-hugging burgundy two-piece clings to every curve of your body, showing off a little bit of your pudgy centre. Jungkook wants to lathe his tongue along your ribs and take your skin into his mouth until bruises the same color as your wretched dress paint your flesh. He licks his lips, unconsciously, feeling the heat he carries for you roar to life, momentarily rendering him stupid.
And, clearly, not in control of his tongue.
“You always look this good, noona,” he asserts, gently. The music is still loud in the background, the bass pounding through the floor, sending vibrations through the soles of your heeled boots, but it’s as if he’s whispered the words directly into your ear canal – they are so clear. “You’re always so pretty to us.”
Shyly, you tuck some hair out of the way, not sure how to feel about the compliment. “T-Thank you.”
He shakes off his lust and he moves to hide your coat amongst the others. You don’t have anything of value in the pockets, so you don’t worry about anyone stealing your things. He turns to you and asks, “How about I get you a drink?”
“I’ve already had two,” you admit, blush creeping along your cheeks. He thinks he’s never seen anything lovelier. “But, I could do with another.”
“You’ve had a rough week,” he comments, nudging open the door and knitting his fingers with yours. “Don’t let go of my hand, okay, noona? I’ll keep you safe.”
The feeling of his large, cool palm caressing your warmer, smaller one makes your stomach flutter wildly. You get bumped by people who pass you by, but he keeps tossing you concerned glances as he storms through the hordes of bodies. When he notices that you are being nudged, he practically pulls you flush to him and uses his larger form to keep you protected. When you spot the other two vampires, they both freeze at the sight of you, and just like with the maknae, their brains seem to instantly turn to mush.
“Joonie! Hobi!” You cry. “You look so good!”
And you mean it.
Joon has on a paisley bandana, a large lavender puffer jacket draped over his broad shoulders, a plain white shirt underneath that, despite the warm temperature inside of the frat due to the gyrating, sweating bodies, and some ripped jeans with some expensive looking sneakers on his feet.
When his wits come back to him, Namjoon hooks his arm around your waist and tugs you off the floor, pressing a kiss to your temple lightly. You hook your arm around his neck tightly and inhale in his heady cologne. He smells just as divine as he looks.
“You look stunning, YN,” he mumbles against your skin, careful to not hold you too tight, despite his raging desire to ravage you right here and now – fuck everyone else. He feels heat lick at his gut and he had to let you go before you feel the press of his need against your stomach, taking a marked step back.
Your eyes shift to the sunshine of the group and you appraise him with wide eyes. Hobi looks like a whole meal in a red and white ‘Rolling Stone’ tartan shirt with a thin white vest damp with sweat from his own gyration and ardent dancing beneath it. Black jeans shredded at the knee and a chain leading from a belt-loop to his pocket. His inky black hair is plastered to his forehead and atop his head is a black cap.
“You’ve been hiding these legs from us,” Hoseok comments, with a lewd wink, practically sweeping you off your feet with how he hugs you. He spins you in his arms and squeezes your middle tightly. “You look gorgeous.”
Shoving his head away from your face, you snort, ears burning, “You’re a pig.”
“But, I’m your pig,” he teases, bumping you before squeezing your waist lightly once. He oinks once, playfully, before hooking his arm around your shoulder, holding you close and tossing a dirty look over your head at a final-year student who had been eyeing your ass too much for his liking.
The possessive part of him wants to reach out and grab it in his hands, just so the little fucker can see you aren’t free to be gawped at, but his good common sense tells him that you would probably gut punch him for even thinking about it, and he is aware that his thoughts alone are stepping over a thick, thick line.
“How about we get some drinks for our YN? She’s lagging behind,” Jungkook taunts, reaching for the shots behind Namjoon’s body. “Here’s one.”
“Give me two, please,” you reply, holding the small plastic coloured glass filled with clear liquid. They stare at you, awkwardly. “You said I’m lagging behind. I need to catch up, don’t I? I don’t plan on remembering tonight, honestly.”
Hoseok gives you a crude look before he clinks his drink with yours, making some spill out and stain the floor. He promises, with a crooked grin, “I’ll make this a night you won’t be able to forget.”
———
“I’m never drinking again,” you groan, wetly, from the toilet bowl, hours later. Hoseok regards you, impassively, rubbing your back in soothing circles, and he winces, slightly, as another wave of vomit spills from your lips and fills the bowl. He presses the cold compress a little harder against the back of your neck, worriedly.
You had been puking now for nearly twenty minutes.
Jungkook isn’t fairing much better, having passed out cold in the car after having thrown up on himself in the backyard of the EXO frat house. He’d gotten into a fight with a partygoer who grabbed you roughly and went full caveman, bumping chests and shedding his shirt as if he were about to wrestle the man into submission. After breaking a bench in their backyard, the boys and a still-babbling you had slid into a cab and arrived at their apartment – not that you remember much of the trip from where you were sat, straddling Hobi’s lap, snoring into his neck while he stroked your back.
Joon had to carry Jungkook, with a sleepy, moody Taehyung’s help (they had called him to come help, considering the younger body was the heaviest in terms of weight and muscle mass), while Hoseok had carried you bridal-style, considering you were no longer able to hold yourself up, holding your heels, that you had tossed off in a huff, in one of his hands.
“I did tell you to stop after the second shot of Ciroc,” Hoseok replies from the edge of the bathtub. He’s holding back your hair and your phone (having dropped and smashed into pieces when you and Kookie thought it would be a good idea to turn the photographer into a walking rollercoaster) in his back pocket. “But you didn’t listen to me.”
You groan and spit up a little more into the toilet bowl. He tuts, sympathetically, and presses a soft kiss to your shoulder. “It’ll be okay, baby. Let it all out.”
Once he thinks you’re done, he gets you to sloppily wash your mouth out and even brushes your teeth and tongue, admiring your tiny molars in amusement, before getting your makeup off and in some pyjamas (one of Yoongi’s clean jerseys) and into his bed. You wrap yourself around Namjoon’s largest Ryan toy that Hoseok had ‘left’ on his bed the other night when he was having trouble sleeping.
Unexpectedly, you reach out, eyes still closed and cling to the chain around his neck, forcing him to jerk forward, before he disentangles himself, reluctantly pulling away.
“Stob being mean, ‘seokkie,” you whine, eyes rolling open before fluttering closed, as if merely keeping your orbs open was too much work for your alcohol-addled brain. “I- hic- I wanna cuddle.”
He stares down at you, contemplatively, but doesn’t make any move to get into Joon’s bed (the literature major is begrudgingly spending the night in Jungkook’s room, so the younger doesn’t puke in his sleep). You seem to notice that you aren’t being cuddled, so you start frowning (eyes still closed, like the adorable fucking thing you are).
“Why aren’t you- Come cuddle, Hoseok,” you repeat, holding your hands out to him, making grabby hands at him. Steeling yourself, you blink, wetly, up at the dancer, you tug yourself up, head lolling slightly to the side, and slur, softly, “Hobi, don’cha wanna cuddle?”
He lets out a long sigh, scrubbing a hand across his face and takes in your vulnerable appearance. “You’re going to hit me in the morning.”
Shaking your head animatedly, only to stop when you make yourself dizzier, you exclaim, “Won’t!”
“Yeah, we’ll see,” he grumbles, sardonically, moving to stand.
He sheds his clothes quickly, facing away from you, but you are paying attention. The lines of his back are sharp and well-built from years of intense dance training. He always had enticing lines of his body, whenever he wore form-fitting clothes or a belt around his waist, but it’s only when he’s partially nude that you realize just how cinched his waist is.
You burn slightly with envy and, not for the first time, wish your Mom had kept you up with ice skating from a young age. Alas, you had turned to books instead of bladed boots and here you are. His biceps flexing lightly as he kicks into some sweats catches your attention once more and you watch, fascinated, as he throws on a clean sleep shirt. When he’s turning to you, you catch, with wide eyes, the tail end of his abdominal area and- whew.
He’s built.
He quirks his brow at you and asks, smugly, “Like what you see, sunshine?”
He’s grinning at you, bright and warm, despite the early morning hour, and you can’t help but sigh, contentedly, as he slides between the sheets with you.
“Yeah, I do,” you admit, eyes brazenly taking in his form. He smells good, like aftershave and Hoseok, calm and a little citrusy. You lean forward and take another sniff, the warmth from his skin making your head swim. “I like it so much that I d’nt know what to do sometimes.”
He freezes all over, staring down at you in shock. “You don’t mean that, sunshine. You’re drunk.”
“Just ‘cause ‘m drunk doesn’t mean I d’nt know what I want,” you slur, burrowing into his chest.
He sighs but says nothing else, silently observing you, listening, waiting, for a lie.
“I really like you,” you mumble, curling your arm around his mid-section and pulling yourself closer to him, strangely desperate. Slowly, he relaxes under the gentle ministrations of your thumb swirling in light circles on his back. “I really like all of you.”
He lets out a light chuckle at your drunken rambling, pushing some hair from your face to just- look at you. He lays down, resting on his fist, and observes the slope of your nose, the puffiness of your lip, the freckles and beauty marks dotted all over the expanse of your face. Once he realizes you are fully asleep, your pulse (his favorite sound in the world) calm, he begins to trace the marks with his fingers, too enamored with the glow beneath your skin to stop.
“Is she asleep?” Yoongi asks, brow puckered as he steps into the room. One step into the apartment told him all he needed to know about how the night had gone. The smell of vomit, alcohol and tears lingered in the air, like poison, even though Hoseok had long opened the window. “Is she doing okay?”
“She was pretty bad,” Hoseok replies, quietly. “We didn’t realize how much she had drank while we weren’t looking. It’s our fault, hyung.”
He had no problem with her drinking to excess, when she was in a safe space and they could protect her, but in the outside world, she was their responsibility and anything bad that happened to her was at their feet.
“Joon is with Kookie,” he tells the blond. He tries to sit up, but you whine in your sleep and hold him tighter, brow furrowing. In fear of waking you up, he settles back down, gently patting your back to pacify you. He addresses Yoongi with a soft look in his eyes, “You can sleep here tonight, if you don’t feel comfortable leaving her with me.”
“I trust you, Hobi,” Yoongi replies blandly, when he sees Hobi’s tight grimace, but he does shed his clothes and slide into Namjoon’s bed. “I just- I feel like I have to be in here.”
“Better you than Taehyung,” Hoseok teases, an impish grin on his face. “He almost bit my head off for letting her get like this. You should have seen how he was cursing up a storm, knowing she was going to be at a party without any of us. He convinced Kookie, Joonie and I to go, last minute, because he was so exhausted.”
“He’s overprotective,” Yoongi admits. “For good reason. You know how he is.”
Hoseok exhales, turning on his side, moving his knee between your thighs and resting his hand on your back. You relax even further, tucking your nose into the crook of his neck, snuffling slightly. The puffs of warm air against his skin tethers Hobi in the moment, and he brushes some of your hair out of your face to stare down at you, love shining in his orbs. “She told me she likes us.”
Yoongi perks up at that, before his eyes take on a guarded note. “She’s drunk.”
“But still,” Hoseok says, eyes glued to the panes of your face, in reverence. “Drunk words are sober thoughts, hyung. She said it, and she meant it. She wasn’t lying.”
Yoongi pauses. “Hobi…”
“Come over, hyung,” he says, pulling back the sheet and patting the space by your other side. “She won’t mind.”
The blond eagerly gets into bed with the two, careful to not overstep boundaries. He rests on his back, one arm crooked beneath his head and the other resting on his chest above his heart. The two boys fall into a comfortable silence, listening to the sound of your heartbeat, lulled into the throes of sleep, sharing warmth and a sense of comfort that only their bond can create.
Everyone had heard of the Dirty7s, even distantly. Nobody could put names or faces to the members, but the name was enough to strike fear in the hearts of civilians, criminals, and law enforcement alike. They’re known to be methodical, impenetrable, and most of all, merciless. Nobody wants to cross any of them. Lest of all you - a college student stripping to pay her debts.
What happens when you fall into their web of deceit and lies?
What happens when you find you don’t want to escape, even when you know you should?
Masterlist / i don’t have a tag list / find me on twitter / word count: 3.2k
Pre-heat hits you like a bag of bricks to the forehead.
You weren’t allowed on the club’s premises until your heat had completely passed, so it gives you one day before it starts and two days on the tail-end for scent regulation. According to legal regulations for both predators and prey working nightlife and entertainment. Even patrons existing on either side of the speciation spectrum had to abide by these rules as evidence of rut and heat was too obvious to hide.
Some used scent-blockers to try and wiggle around the rules but it never ended up well for anyone involved. Gang rapes, pheromone-induced premature rut or heat, neurotoxin-sickness brought on by rapid-exposure to uncontrolled semiochemicals. All of it, well-documented and heavily-regulated by employers and social-workers alike.
By purposefully triggering another person’s heat or rut, you could end up being imprisoned for up to two years or fined an exorbitant amount of money that would make you regret even bothering.
Technically, working at the library wasn’t dangerous despite your heat coming in tomorrow, so you tried to go in for a couple of hours to help re-arrange the new kid’s fiction section that you had created for the pre-schoolers that came in every other day for an hour in the mornings, but your cramps got so bad that your manager sent you some with some herbal tea and a gentle pat on the back.
Your manager, Areum, was a Beta owl-hybrid, with wide eyes and thick glasses that make her look far more innocent than she actually was. Her partner and wife, Mina, was an Omega owl-hybrid that liked to make sweet treats in her spare time. You had a number of her Tupperware containers in your cupboards that you were due to give back a long while ago.
You take the subway because you can’t afford another cab this month and it takes you about an hour before you can breach the safety of your own home, smelling your comfort scents.
A guy on the train makes a rude gesture at you, two fingers spread and his tongue working between the digits, and it makes you recoil in disgust. He doesn’t seem to like the fact that you aren’t into it, and he flips you off before he gets off at his station.
The whole ordeal makes you feel even more weary.
Blearily, you grab your blanket from the couch and undress yourself on the way to your bed, tripping a little over your pant leg and tossing your dirty clothes somewhere off to the side. Your sensitive nose can’t stand the scent of outsideon your clothes. It almost makes you want to burn them but you know how delusional that sounds.
You bang your hip on the bedside table and you curse, side throbbing and your head banging along with it.
Disorientated, you rifle through your drawers until you lay your hands on medicine for the headache and wrap yourself up in the sheets without a second’s thought.
It takes you a little while to drift off, the effects of the medication ebbing at the aches in your body slowly - it feels slower than usual - and seconds before you actually dissolve into the welcoming blanket of black that bleeds into your vision, you hear your phone ping from somewhere in your pile of clothes.
When you open your eyes, your room is pitch dark. The curtains are drawn open, but the only passing light you can see are the lights from the buildings across the way. You are too high up to be bothered by street lights, but you can hear the distant car driving across the highway your building was built near.
The reason you woke up wasn’t due to the arbitrary sounds of life outside of your window.
No, what woke you from your near-dead slumber was the incessant sound of your phone ringing that had bled into your dreams. In your dream-turned-nightmare, the talking beetle that had been your companion for your mythical journey spontaneously turned into a gigantic, human-eating cellphone and chased you down the street until you jolted out of bed, sweating.
Blinking away your bleariness, you roll out of bed and move to your feet, but, much to your shock, your legs turn to jelly. You have to drag yourself across the room to rifle through the pile of clothes, grimacing every time another smell hit your nose. Asphalt, grit, smog, cigarette smoke, human smell, other hybrids - it was all foul enough to make you feel distressed.
You grab the phone and push it to your ears. “Hello?”
“YN, are you okay?”
You pause for a moment, confusion taking over your features. “Jimin?”
He enquires, somewhat impatient, “Are you okay?”
You push your fingers into your eyes when a sudden burst of light makes your headache feel nauseous. “No, I feel shitty.”
“Why?”
You grumble, “Heat.”
A beat.
Then,“You’re in heat now?”
He sounds testy.
You clarify, “Not exactly.”
He grills, “Are you… Are you alone?”
Your frown deepens as you query, “Why?”
Jimin commands, amusement leaking into his tone, “Just answer the question, Pretty.”
You grumble, “Only Jungkook calls me that.”
He retorts, silkily, “Exactly why I’m doing the same.”
You decide to drop it. It didn’t matter what he called you, not right now. The blistering headache that had felt like it was burning through your body mere moments ago seems to be lessening gradually the longer you talk with the man. “I’m alone.”
Jimin replies, “Good. Keep it that way.”
“Why?”
He replies, simply, “You don’t need anybody. Not anymore.”
He’s lucky that pre-heat only gave you headaches and body shivers. You didn’t get horny until day two or three of your heat, especially considering you were without a heat-partner. But, something about his tone was testing that theory.
“I’ll bring whoever I want into my bed,” you respond, pressing the button for loud speaker. Your stomach pangs in hunger and now that your headache isn’t as over-bearing, you finally feel it. You move to your feet, kicking past the clothes you dropped on the way, and into your small kitchen. “That’s got nothing to do with you. Boss.”
You tack the end word on purpose, to remind him of his position in your life. “We might have shared a fun night of conversation, Jimin, but don’t get that confused with anything else.”
He lets out a gruff sounds, annoyed but not angry, before he answers, “And Jungkook? What about him? You think he’ll be happy with you spending your heat under somebody else?”
You barely hold back a sardonic laugh. “You were the one to remind me of my place in Jungkook’s life. Or did you suddenly forget that?”
He goes quiet on the phone, so silent that you have to look at the screen to check if he’s still on the line, before he grits out, “I’m sorry. For saying that.”
“No, you aren’t,” you return, cracking another egg into the bowl. A stuffed omelette sounds like just the right. Your heat was making your mouth loose, ignoring the risk to your job in that moment to get the truth off your chest. You continue, “Alphas like you never are. You just say whatever, do whatever and everyone else just listens. You’re never sorry because you don’t feel like you have to be.”
“I could be a different kind of Alpha,” he bargains, always the charmer. “You don’t know that.”
“Our first encounter says otherwise,” you answer. “Jungkook’s impression was much better.”
“He’s not as nice as you think,” Jimin grumbles like an admonished kid. “You wouldn’t like him more than you like me if you knew.”
“He’s already told me how bad of a guy he is,” you respond. “It’s kind of like a broken record at this point.”
He asks, noting your distracted tone of voice, “Are you doing something?”
You respond, shoveling the cooked mushrooms into the one half of the still-cooking omelette, “Cooking.”
Jimin remarks, “It’s eleven at night.”
You respond, absently, “I’ve been asleep all day.”
He asks, attentively, “Where does it hurt?”
You respond, honestly. You rummage through the refrigerator for some hot sauce to go over the top, “Headache, mostly. I feel better now though.”
Jimin prompts, “Since you slept?”
You shake your head, even though he can’t see you, and you return, honestly, “Since we started talking.”
He acknowledges, and you hear the pride in his voice so clearly, as if he were standing right next to you, “I’ve heard that just by hearing an Alpha’s voice, sometimes the effects of heat can relax.”
You riposte, almost amusedly, “Oh really?”
He hums. “How about we try something next time?”
You suggest, annoyance leaking into your tone, “A sex thing?”
Jimin laughs, the sound bright and buoyant, before he teases, “Your mind’s in the gutter.”
Unable to help yourself, you palliate, defensively, “I am in heat.”
Jimin tuts gently before he says, “I just meant we spend a little time together. See if we’re compatible.”
You respond, with an eye roll, “So this is about sex?”
He takes a moment to mull over your words before he clarifies, “That’s something we could work out later.”
You bite on your bottom lip, the suggestion of mind-numbing, deeply-satisfying sex making a coil of tension grow in your lower stomach.
You shove another mouthful of omelet into your mouth to stop yourself from letting out the breathy whine that threatens to escape your throat, and you grumble, “Talking about this with me is a little improper right now. I’m not in the right headspace to make these kinds of decisions.”
Jimin says, simply, “That’s why we’ll talk about it later.”
You clear your throat and reply,“Look, I’m eating and talking to you is making me jumpy.”
He counters, easily, and you can just imagine him, sprawling out on the couch, spreading his legs apart to just occupy space, “Okay. If Jungkook or I call you over the next couple of days, can I ask you to just pick up?”
“Why?”
“Not being able to see you is hard for him,” Jimin explains. He pauses for a moment before he carries on, “He’s scheduled for a couple fights over the next week or so and he gets into these funny head-spaces where he can’t talk in full sentences or empathize with anyone about anything. So, I told him I’d check on you.”
“Jungkook doesn’t care about me,” you grumble around a mouthful of cheese, egg and mushrooms. “He’s got a hard-on for me. There’s a difference.”
He makes a surprised sound in the back of his throat and he mutters, “If only you knew how wrong you were about that, Pretty.”
Something in his voice almost sounded regretful, but you ignore it, chalking it up to your heat making you crave things that you need to lock up tight in your heart.
“I have to go,” you say, suddenly.
He demands, hurt, “What? Why?”
“I’m tired again,” you respond, quietly, looking down at the half-full plate of steaming food, and the lack of appetite that washes over you frustrates you deeply. “I just want to sleep.”
“O-Okay, Pretty. I’ll call you tomorrow,” he promises. “Pick up when I do… Please.”
Quickly, you end the call and toss the phone into the sofa. You toss the food into the refrigerator, knowing your body well enough to know that the urge to eat has disappeared for at least another three hours and in that time you know you can catch a bit of sleep before your body was thrown into over-drive.
Jimin’s POV
Letting YN put the phone down was harder than he thought it would be. His instincts were growling at him to go and see you in person - just to make sure you were okay with his own two eyes. He’s almost confused as to why he cares so much, considering he isn’t the one who wants to claim you.
Or, at least, he doesn’t think he does.
Not like Jungkook does.
Jungkook’s been on your ass like white on rice since the day you ran into his chest at the club, all teary-eyed with a rabbiting heartbeat. The wolf excitedly came home to tell the rest of the boys about this pretty little gazelle that he couldn’t keep his eyes or hands off of, and that made him curious.
The others too.
Namjoon even had someone follow her at one point without Jungkook’s permission to make sure she wasn’t on the take or working with the cops. When he showed her picture to the rest of us, Hoseok almost jumped out of his skin with how fast he snatched it out of Joonie’s hand, eagerly explaining about how he knew about her.
The whole story about her friend working the blade and getting caught selling ass to a cop, then getting feisty with him and get popped in the mouth a couple times. YN came into a den of predators, an alpha-beta medley of pheromones that would have any prey skittish and crawling out of their skin, nervous but determined, and helped her friend home.
Hoseok found her unbearably cute, and brave, and he couldn’t stop himself from following her home. Hobi was a great tracker, his nose was better than any cop in his graduating class, and he found your apartment easily. He couldn’t enter, of course, with it being a prey-only complex.
But, he did sporadically park his car in the lot outside of your place or follow you home once he figured out you were working at the library, and then later at the strip club. He didn’t like it, thinking that it wasn’t a good place for you, thinking that it was dangerous, but he knows that it was only because he couldn’t go inside. He couldn’t risk you remembering his face, not when he hadn’t figured out how he wanted to approach you.
Hoseok surveilled voluntarily, never telling any of us about his pet project, but he did enjoy recounting all the times he got to see you in your element, much to Jungkook’s displeasure.
Hobi spent a whole lot of time gloating about how pretty you were, how kind you were even when eyes weren’t on you, how special you were, how brave you were, how sweet you smelled even on rainy days.
It was enough to bolster Jimin’s interest in you.
Jungkook was picky about things like this. It was his first time actually having someone catch his eye like this, so he wouldn’t let anyone come near you. Every time Jimin even mentioned coming into the club for a peek, Jungkook would start his posturing, tail swishing and a growl growing in his chest until Jimin eventually reneged.
Jungkook was technically higher up on their pack’s hierarchy than he was, although they never needed to enforce their dynamics at home. The only time they ever had to was during negotiations with other gangs to prove that there was a clear line of deference that ended with Namjoon, their leader.
Even though their home life wasn’t the same way, they needed to have the respect of the usually-traditional syndicates that they dealt with, otherwise they would be considered weak and would attract problems from other sadistic Alpha packs who thrived on violence and domination.
To do so, they had to show other people in their line of work that they had an unshakeable foundation built on deference and inflexible respect.
Although, they had mouth-pieces to work in their stead so they didn’t have to risk having their names and faces circulating. Men and women who, using their connections and endless streams of income, they had hoisted out of the dumpster and turned back into working, living human beings.
Men and women who they didn’t have to ask twice to do anything.
Men and women who owed them their lives, the very breath in their lungs.
Men and women who would die for them if they asked, falling on their sword without a moment’s hesitation.
As far as they knew, no law enforcement had their faces or real names, but a few members had a more public role.
Jimin, as the silent owner of a series of discotheques and strip clubs.
Jungkook, who was an under-ground fighter and wan involved with a couple of the big players pushing drugs out of his and some other gyms in the state. He didn’t just push drugs out of the gyms, obviously, but that was where he liked to prowl around the most.
Even Namjoon, whose official job was that of an international trader of foreign and exotic hybrids, meaning that he had to work closely with customs and even sometimes cops.
They knew our faces but have no idea just how deep the rabbit-hole goes. Never would they actually guess that the seven ‘menial players’ werethe cruel and vengeful organization that left fear in the hearts of criminals and cops alike across the country.
Yoongi, Hoseok, Taehyung and Jin all made the rest of their substantial income and their illicit connections being knee-deep in the illegal.
So, when Jungkook ended up falling into a rut after taking one too many sniffs of your underwear in bed, Jimin took that opportunity to go around his order.
The tabby-cat walked into the strip club, smelling the sex and sin in the air, and immediately spotted you on the top of the pole, dressed in ostentatiously bright zebra-print with a charming, seductive smile on your face that was equal parts siren as it was endearing. He could see it - the pretty in you, the softness in you, the sexy in you.
Jimin was techincally the boss’ boss’ boss so while Rocky knew him by name, the others staff didn’t.
Just the way he liked it.
He got his favorite drink sent up to their private VVIP lounge (somewhere that only he and the other six could even access) and spent the next hour silently lusting after you. He watched you, observed your behavior so closely that it was concerning, and he sent photos of you in all kinds of positions to Jungkook for spank-bank material.
Jimin felt the cravings before he started to notice the changes in his body. Alcohol stopped doing it for him a long time ago, which is when his habit started. He could control himself, most of the time, but when he got antsy and needed to ground himself in Joonie’s scent (and Namjoon had been out of the fucking country for half a month scouting for omega predators on behalf of some perverted oil tycoon in Dubai so he was already pissed off and uncomfortable), sometimes he had to rely on other means of calming himself down.
Jimin couldn’t help it. When he saw you walk in in the reflection of the glass, he let out some of that frustration on you - innocent and adorable you - and had you on your knees in seconds. He didn’t really expect you to be able to withstand how strong his compulsion was, but he was surprised by how queasy you looked.
It made him feel guilty.
Which is an emotion he wasn’t accustomed to feeling, not even towards omegas. He liked them, any alpha would, but he didn’t feel sorryfor the things he did to them, especially if it wasn’t his fault.
None of them felt feelings of guilt or regret. It had been long beaten out of them at the group home, or after many years of working knee-deep in murder, drugs and solicitation.
That should’ve been the first indication that you weren’t going to be a normal omega to him.
Through a series of curious happenstances, the Boys of Bangtan - your campus’ most popular and most handsome group of individuals - set their sights on you, a regular student with a stubborn streak and a wayward mouth.
Strangely enough, the mere sight of them sets your instincts off, red-lights flashing in your brain - danger, danger, danger, danger.
It’s too bad that they can’t seem to leave you alone, though. They like you too much.
(angst / smut / yandere / fluff / gore)
Masterlist / i dont have a tag list / find me on twitter / word count: 5.5k
(AN: Hi, all! This story is actually already posted on AO3. But, I decided to post it on here. I have almost 50 chapters of this story up over there, so I’ll slowly be adding them onto here too)
TW: sex dream marked with ~~~, crude and possessive language
Chapter 18: ‘Admiration’
Namjoon leaves in the morning, without alerting you to his departure, but he does press a kiss to your forehead unable to ignore the urge to scent-mark you somehow. He steps over the bodies littering the living room and ignores the lustful stares he receives from the girls that had been awake for some time. He knows what it looks like, and a small, conceited part of him wants them to think something happened between YN and himself.
He wants them to know she’s taken, and that she’s his, that she’s theirs.
Namjoon arrives back at the apartment, with a dire need to empty his bladder and brush his teeth, only to find six pairs of eyes glaring at him as soon as he opens the door.
Jimin takes one sniff of his clothes and snarls, accusingly, “You were with YN all night, weren’t you?”
Namjoon can’t even sigh before they are piling on his head, pulling at his clothes and whining like babies.
“You said we’d take it slow with her.”
“We weren’t allowed to meet with her, but you can?”
“That’s low, hyung!”
“Joon, you better start explaining yourself, before I lose my cool.”
He sighs. “Can I, at least, wash my face before I’m being interrogated?”
The boys roll their eyes and let him pass, begrudgingly. They collect in the living room, all taking their respective spots, subconsciously leaving one on the couch and another in the middle of the room where Joon takes his spot.
“I picked her up from work,” he says, towelling off his wet strands of purple. “We went back to her apartment. I slept over. No big deal.”
“Something happened, it has to have,” Yoongi accuses, with a sharp glint in his eye. “Tell us, Joon.”
“I wouldn’t be able to lie to you guys,” Namjoon huffs. “We didn’t even sleep in the same bed. I slept on the floor. She’s probably still asleep now.”
They know he’s telling the truth, the steadiness of his pulse tells them that, but still, they still feel envious of the time he got to spend with her that they didn’t.
“Is- Is she doing okay?” Jimin asks, quietly. He’s picking at the sleeve of his striped sweater, looking ten times smaller than normal. He’s leaning against Yoongi, resting his weight on the composer, as if he couldn’t bear to stand. “Does she hate us?”
“She’s okay. Whatever happened while she was away must have helped her come to terms with her feelings towards us,” he says, contemplatively. The boys are all paying attention, focusing their eyes on their leader. “She isn’t mad at us anymore.”
Jungkook falls back, spreading out on the floor and he lets out a roar of happiness. “Thank fuck!”
Jimin laughs, dropping onto the maknae and burrowing into the dark material of his stomach.
Hoseok glances at them fondly, before he asks, “So, what’s the plan of action?”
“We play it by ear,” Jin suggests. “Take what she gives us and slowly build a relationship from there.”
Jimin asks, nervously, “Do you think it’s possible for her to really accept us as we are?”
“She’s getting over us being vampires,” Taehyung says, fairly. “If we explain to her our differences to humans, she may over time become open to our advances.”
“I don’t even really understand how it works,” Jimin admits. “But I do know that I don’t ever want to be without any of you, and especially not her.”
Yoongi nods in agreement, but he closes his eyes in minor frustration. “I really hate the whole convention around courting. It’s so stuffy and formal.”
“It’s long-winded but it’s a tradition,” Jin replies. “Our parents would kill us if we didn’t do this the right way.”
Taehyung perks up then and asks, “Speaking of our parents, have any of you actually told them about her?”
“I mentioned her briefly while we were on vacation,” Taehyung says. “They want to meet her once we’ve officially started courting her.”
“That’s going to be a shit show,” Jin mumbles, running a hand over his face. “My father is going to hit the roof.”
“He knows how soul-bonds work,” Namjoon comforts, pushing some of Jin’s dark hair from his face. He’s gotten tan over his two-week break in the Arab Emirates and he seems to glow from the inside out. “You had no choice in this, the same way none of us did.”
“Logic escapes him sometimes,” Jin spits out, face contorting in spite before he forces himself to calm down. “Anyway. Jiminie, how’s your mother’s health? I heard she was responding well to the change in medication.”
The pinkette nods happily, curling around Hoseok’s back and resting his head on his shoulder. The older man glances down at him, fondly, as he explains, “She video-called me yesterday, and she was outside. Just in the hospital garden, but still. I don’t think she’s been able to be outside since I was a kid. She looked so pretty next to the flowers.”
Jungkook sits up. Unconsciously, he curls around Jimin’s waist, resting his chin on his shoulder, and he asks, “Did you cry?”
The dancer nods, mood souring. “I felt overwhelmed, but I tried not to show it. When she went back inside, I cried a lot, thinking that she might be, you know, getting better. But, it’s happened before. She responds well for a while, before her blood disorder lashes back out at her and she’s back to square one.”
“You don’t want to get your hopes up,” Jin presumes, soberly.
Jimin nods, grimly. “My Dad’s been with her the whole time. He still loves and cares about her so much.”
“Your parents are literal soulmates,” Namjoon says. “Of course, he’s by her side.”
Jimin feels his lips pull up in a ghost of a smile. “You’re right, hyung.”
Jin moves to his feet and says, “Breakfast’s on me tonight. I don’t feel like cooking and I’ve been itching to try the diner that just opened up.”
“YN might like it there,” Taehyung suggests, grin broadening until it’s boxy and wide. “Maybe we should take her there one day.”
“One day, Taehyung,” Jin agrees, ruffling his blue strands. “Let’s go.”
~~~
“How bad do you want it, Cutie?” His voice murmurs against your neck, puffs of hot breath tickling against your skin, making you squirm. His tone is dark with promise, tongue snaking out to trail along your skin. Fingers curl in your hair and pull, not tight but firm, and he whispers against your neck, just as breathless, just as needy as you are, “C’mon, jagiya. Tell me.”
“Taehyung,” you whine, grinding down against him, in an aborted hip thrust, searching for friction where you need him the most. A series of deep throbs at your core have you clenching around nothing and you let out a gasp of frustration. He grips you tighter, halting your motions with a light tut of chastisement. You beg, pathetically, “It hurts.”
“Listen to her, Taehyung,” Jin chastises from behind you, fingers gripping your hip in an unyielding, possessive grip. You are moved against his front, so you are chest-to-chest, and even though you can’t see any faces through the fog, you can smell his skin, you can feel his familiar warmth, and you melt into him.“You’re being too mean with our precious YN. Petal, where do you want us?”
“I-Inside me,” you gasp out, pressing harder against the hard, hot length you feel press against your lower back. Taehyung hisses and shifts you the way he wants it, grinding against his leaking length, and you whimper, “I need you inside of me.”
The fog behind your lids clears, slowly, and you can briefly see Taehyung’s grin, salaciously, from beneath you.
“There she is,” he murmurs, hands cradling your chin, his eyes glittering with so much affection that it makes your heart ache. He says, eyes full of reverence and gaze syrupy with sweetness, “She’s finally looking at us again.”
“I’m so happy,” Jin murmurs, pressing kisses to your shoulder-blade. The dry press of his mouth on your skin might as well have been a dribble of molten lava with how deep it burns. Fuck, it burns so good. He whispers against your skin, quietly, “Welcome back, petal.”
Taehyung’s grin turns heated as his eyes graze over your body and he moves to sit up, pressing his nude chest against your back, skin already sticky with sweat. He holds your eyes as he murmurs, lips teasing yours but never touching, “We’re going to make you feel so good that you’re going to forget your own name.”
“Please,” you beg, and that’s the last coherent thought you have before you feel as if your insides are being stirred up and you are being melted from the inside out.
~~~
Shooting up out of bed, you grip your sheets in between shaky fingers, glancing around your head wildly, as if chasing away the ghosts of your dreams.
“There’s no fucking way that actually happened,” you murmur, quietly. Glancing over the side of your bed, you see Namjoon’s spot is empty and his sheets have been rolled up and put to the side neatly. “Thank God.”
From past experiences, you know you’re on the louder side when it comes to trysts between the sheets and nothing would make you want to fake your own death and relocate to Jeju more than having Namjoon overhear you having a sex dream about his two cluster-mates.
Rubbing your thighs together, you feel the seat of your underwear stick to your core uncomfortably and you let out a long whine.
“I need some dick,” you murmur, more to yourself than anything else.
“Did I hear someone say dick?” Young-mi sing-songs as she steps into your room, fresh-faced and dressed in her yoga gear, mat tucked under her arm. “Does this have anything to do with Nayeon’s friends all creaming themselves this morning, talking about a certain Kim Namjoon spending the night?”
You toss your pillow in her direction, which she skillfully avoids. “Nothing happened.”
“Are you sure?” She teases, moving to sit on the end of your bed. “He is super handsome.”
“It takes more than being handsome to get in between these thighs,” you reply, gesturing to your legs, spread under the sheets.
“Oh, yes, I forgot. He doesn’t have the stinking attitude to match your past lovers,” she sasses. “C’mon, YN. He’s good-looking and he looks like he’s packing a whopper in his shorts. They all do. And they pay attention to you. A lot of attention. Enough attention that even I would be hard-pressed to say no. So, tell me again how you haven’t thought about it?”
“I haven’t,” you lie. You have dreamt it instead. “They’re just really good friends to me.”
“I’m your best friend and even we’ve made out before,” she tells you, disbelief written clear on her face.
“What about you, huh? Why don’t you go for one of them?” You ask, pouting.
“I’d fuck them all seven-ways to Sunday,” she replies, face free of all embarrassment. “But to them, I don’t exist. You do.”
Throwing your pillow over your head, you groan. You complain, “This is so confusing.”
“Why? Namjoon is a sweet guy,” she says, rubbing your thigh, comfortingly. “Of all the choices, he isn’t the worst. He doesn’t even rank top-50 worst guys to date.”
“It’s not just him,” you whimper, moving the pillow but still covering your face with your hands. “I think- I don’t know. They’re all so nice to me, and I’m not used to that.”
Her eyes slowly grow big at your words, as she begins to understand your dilemma. “Bitch, you really are living in a young adult novel.”
“Shut up!”
“How about this? There’s a party this coming Friday,” she says, a suggestive lilt to her voice. She’s playing with the fraying edges of your blanket as she speaks, and her behavior makes you more suspicious of her proposal. “How about… we stop by? Just for a little while.”
Sitting up to cross your arms over your chest, you ask, brow raising, “Who’s going to be there?”
She continues to avoid your eyes as she mumbles, “Oh, you know… just some people…”
“Like…?”
“Like that cute-ass first year that I’ve been trying to bone since November,” she gushes, eyes crinkling in amusement. “She’s so pretty and tall. She boxes, YN. She has a back tattoo. I need to eat her out! Don’t laugh – this is serious!”
“We can go,” you tell her, wanting to help your friend get some action, even if you aren’t reaping the benefits. “Anything to get your plasdick wet.”
She squeals, wrapping you up in a big, warm hug and she says, “I’m going to ignore your crassness and simply say this – thank you, thank you, thank you, YN! You won’t regret it, I promise.”
You already do, but you don’t tell her that. She seems too excited for you to piss on her parade like that.
—
Some days later
Jimin is outside of your first class of ancient communication, resting the back of his head on the wall, looking as cool as anything in his leather jacket and freshly dyed hair. You feel the initial flutter of butterflies in your stomach at the first sight of him, but you don’t feel a touch of fear. In fact, all you feel is guilt over the last time you were together.
You were sure you had made him cry.
“Where did the pink go?” You ask by way of greeting, glancing up at the tuft of vibrant orange.
“You like it?” He shakes out his hair, before habitually brushing it back in place. His nails have been painted too, black and shiny. “Jin-hyung thought it’d go well with the outfit. Do you think so?”
He gives you a cursory spin, and you see how professors and students alike stop to admire his absolute beauty. Hiding the blush on your cheeks with your folders, you nod. “It does.”
“As long as you like it, I’m happy,” he sing-songs, reaching for your bag and books. “What class do you have next?”
“Nothing until four,” you tell him. “I hate early classes.”
He grimaces for you. “Me too. How about we get some dessert?”
“It’s eleven am, Jimin,” you mumble. He shoulders through the exit doors leading to the parking lot, before turning back to stare at you, not understanding. “Fine,” you concede with a huff. “But if I get diabetes, it’ll be your fault.”
“Nothing like that will ever happen to you, YN,” he says, boldly grabbing your hand and pressing a kiss to your fingertips. The sensation of his mouth on your skin makes you tingle all over. “I’ll make sure of that.”
“Do your vampiric powers cover cavities or something? I certainly missed that section in Twilight,” you tease, sliding into his car. He flicks on the heating and lets out a chuckle of his own, eyes crinkling up into half-moons, the skin creasing, showing off the slight chip in the front of his tooth.
“Twilight is a crock of shit,” he says. “They get nothing right.”
“What did they get wrong?”
“We don’t sparkle in the sunlight. We aren’t mortal enemies with other supernaturals, especially not werewolves. We can eat, drink, fart, pee and poop just like humans can. We can’t have kids with humans,” he says, listing off on his fingers. “There’s a bunch more but that’ll come with time.”
Giggling to yourself, you change the question, intrigue bubbling in your gut. “What can you do?”
“We’re able to control our development, so if I wanted to, I could be this age forever, but once I make that choice, I can’t undo it. And, being 20 for eternity doesn’t sound like the best time, so we usually wait until we’re in our early 30s before we consider stopping the aging process.”
“What else?”
“We’re stronger and faster than humans. Smarter, too. Sorry,” he gives you a haughty smirk. “We’re impervious to most diseases and heal at a faster rate.”
You enquire, “What about when you want to have kids?”
“I was born this way,” he tells you with a quick glance. “My parents are both like me. Born. Our families are pure-blooded.”
Surprise colors your tone as you ask, “All of you were born as vampires?”
He nods, before giving you a smile filled with pearly white teeth. “Crazy, right?”
“The way you say it implies that there’s something other than being pure-blooded.”
He nods. “Half-bloods. It’s an archaic system, but that’s how we classify vampires who have been bitten and turned, rather than born, like us.”
“Is that… a bad thing?”
“Not bad,” he replies, licking his lips. “Just different. A born vampire will be stronger and faster, and sometimes they have… special abilities.”
“Special abilities? You have got to be kidding me now.”
He shakes his head. “Hoseok is one.”
“What?”
“He can manipulate memory,” he explains. “He never uses it, because it tires him out. He’s KO’d for the whole day if he does, but he can do it. We all have varying degrees of compulsion, but it doesn’t compare to his mind magic.”
“That’s… insane.”
He seems to agree. “It can be overwhelming at first, which is why we didn’t want to throw it all at you at once. But… we care for you. A lot. And we don’t want you going into this situation blind.”
Silence descends over the two of you as you digest his words, and before long, you’re pulling into the parking lot of the dessert place, and you spot a familiar car in the corner, glinting sharply under the early afternoon sun. Grasping at Jimin’s elbow, stalling the confidently-striding dancer’s movement, you ask, suddenly nervous, “Is… Is Jin here?”
Jimin nods, shyly, rubbing the back of his neck. “I told the group that we were going for dessert, just so they wouldn’t worry if they didn’t see you around, and Jin-hyung, Yoongi-hyung and Jungkook wanted to see you. Is that…” He trails off, suddenly worried. “Did I overstep?”
“No, it’s fine,” you pause, exhaling softly. He stares down at you, fingers itching to touch you but he holds back. He can’t ruin this, he can’t go too fast. He has to wait. It has to be perfect. He holds the door open for you and ushers you inside and out of the cold. You continue, “I wanted to see you guys anyway.”
“You did?” He stops you with a cool hand on your elbow, echoing your actions from mere minutes ago. “You really mean that?”
He’s staring deep into your eyes, so deep in fact that it’s making your skin break out in gooseflesh. Unable to speak, you simply nod, and he pulls you into a deep, long hug. His sweet natural smell is so intoxicating that you feel your eyes close without your permission, tucking yourself further into his chest to get closer to the source of the aroma.
“I missed you so much, jagi,” he mumbles into your hair, lovingly. “I really was going crazy not being able to see you.”
You wrap your arms around his trim waist, for sake of them just hanging uselessly by your sides and find that latching into him is exactly where you want to be.
“Fuck, I missed you,” he whines, rocking you gently from side to side. “’m sorry for lying to you, for keeping it from you. I’ll never lie to you again, as God is my witness I’ll-”
“If you’re done,” Yoongi mumbles, dryly, voice cutting the private moment sharply. “You aren’t the only one who has missed her, Jimin.”
The orange-haired boy pulls away from you, mortified.
“Yah! You got to see her during the break! If anyone should be upset, it’s me,” Jin growls, nudging the shorter man out of the way to envelop you in just as deep of a hug as Jimin. He smells so good that your knees buckle slightly in his grasp. Chuckling softly at your behavior, he whispers in your ear, “Does it feel that good that you can’t stay standing, petal?”
The nickname takes you straight back to your dream, his sultry words sliding across the expanse of your back as he presses into you, deeper and deeper still.
Jin’s nostrils flare slightly, an action that goes unseen by you and he feels his fangs drop at the flood of arousal that he smells wafting from your body. Fuck, he’s missed your scent. But this, this smell collects on the back of his tongue, flooding his senses with your deepest and most desperate essence. His knees buckle slightly, and his mind instantly conjures up the image of you, nude, hovering above his face, his hot tongue mere inches from where he wants to be the most: your warm, slick pink p-
Yoongi steps on his foot sharply, more affected by the combined arousal than his blank expression conveys. Shaking off the wave of adrenaline that is pumping through his body, Jin ushers you to the seat and sets Yoongi with a firm stare, one that the younger knows all too well, before letting the seriousness wash off him and Jin melts back into his bubbly, cheeky persona.
Warmly, you hug Jungkook, who nervously places his hands on your shoulders, refusing to let himself linger, no matter how much he wants to bury his face in your innermost corners. You find his awkwardness quite endearing and you want to pinch his puffy cheeks. Embracing the quiet blond, you feel the composer press a quick kiss to your temple, before giving your hand a quick squeeze. He asks, before you can question his sudden desire for skin-ship, “How’ve you been?”
“Better than before,” you admit, sitting down between Jin and Jimin. You level Yoongi with a sober stare and say, “Thank you. For everything.”
The blond shrugs, awkwardly staring off to the side, shifting his weight as if he doesn’t know where to put himself.
You assert, reaching for his thin, long fingers across the table, catching Yoongi’s gaze and holding it, “No, really. My Dad really likes you.”
He can’t help but let his chest puff up at your words. Yoongi feels a sense of pride, something the other guys could feel rolling off his body in waves. “That’s to be expected.”
“I can’t wait to meet your parents, YN,” Jimin cuts in, excitedly. He reaches for you, wanting your attention too. He says, confidently, “They’ll love me more than hyung, don’t you think?”
“It’s obvious that it’ll be me that will be their favorite,” Jin declares, hotly.
Jungkook snorts. “Whatever, hyung. Who can say no to this face?”
He cups his chin with big hands and sends you a cheesy wink.
Nodding in agreement, you lean over to copy his gesture and repeat, “Who can say no to this face?”
The two of you simultaneously turn to the eldest and bat your eyelids, adorably. Jin’s cheeks pink slightly at the sight of the two of you and he grumbles, “You’re both going to be the death of me.”
“Is that even possible?” You sass, playfully.
Jin simply tugs at a wayward curl of yours in response.
“We can, technically, be killed,” Yoongi says, quietly. The table quietens with him, mode turning somber. “But, there’s a whole host of things that have to happen for it to be effective.”
“What? Like silver crafted into a perfectly symmetrical blade, forged under the light of a full moon, by the hands of the village virgin?” You tease with a roll of your eyes.
The four of them freeze, simultaneously shooting you shocked glances, mouths parted slightly in surprise.
Jungkook mumbles, “How… How did you know?”
Mouth nearly falling open, you gasp, “Are you kidding me?”
Yoongi breaks first, bursting into laughter, followed by Jimin and Jin. Jungkook hides his face in the dancer’s shoulder, unable to stop the jerking motion of his body as he laughs.
“You should’ve seen your face, noona!”
“Shut it!” You groan, cheeks burning, hotly. “I was thinking of the craziest thing I could think of.”
“You can tell you like to read fantasy books,” Jimin remarks, amusedly. He taps the tip of your nose, affectionately. “Namjoon has been spending too much time with you.”
“Not enough, honestly,” you grumble. “We haven’t had a library date for ages.”
“Date?” Jin repeats, a challenging quirk to his brow. "That’s new.”
You stutter, ears burning, “T-That’s what he calls them!”
“I’m sure he does, the sly dog,” Yoongi berates. “Why weren’t any of us invited to your little library dates?”
“Do you guys even like to read?”
Jimin and Jungkook’s cheeks puff up in upset. “We read!”
“Comics don’t count,” Jin ribs the pair.
“Technically, they do,” you correct. “Literature comes in all forms.”
“Ah, don’t you start,” Jin complains. “We get enough of that from Joonie.”
“Joonie’s right,” you assert, reaching for Jimin’s hand and giving it a cursory squeeze. “Next time, I’ll tell you when we’re going okay? You can show me the comics you like.”
“Really?” He perks up, happily, at the idea. “Thank you, YN.”
“Enough talking, I’m hungry,” Yoongi complains, picking up a menu and sliding it across in your direction. “Choose what you’re craving.”
“I’ll take the waffles with honey and some raspberries in a cup,” you reply after some moments to peruse the menu’s contents.
Yoongi snorts at your peculiar request.
Jungkook mumbles, “She doesn’t like the cold and the warm touching, like me.”
You beam at him, finally happy to have someone who shares your specific taste. “Can I have an orange juice, too, please, Jinnie?”
Yoongi nods and Jin leans down to murmurs into your ear, “You can get anything you like, petal.”
Your cheeks redden instantly, and you stammer, ducking your head to hide you’re the splotches of embarrassment on your face, “What’s with that nickname?”
He ducks closer, practically with his lips pressed against the curve of your ear, and he whispers, softly, “Is it not to your tastes?”
“I- It’s… It’s just different,” you mumble, quietly. You feel as if your lungs are going to climb out of your throat, and the sensation only decreases once the handsome businessman reclines out of your space.
Jin gives you a warm smile before calling over a nearby waitress. He tells her the orders of the group, seemingly not needing to confer with the other boys, and you wonder how it is they can know each other so well.
“We’ve known each other since birth. Some of us have lived together for nearly half our lives. If I can’t get their orders right, what kind of hyung would I be?” He asks, tilting his head slightly. You didn’t even ask the question aloud, but he seems to have interpreted the expression on their face well.
Once the food arrives, you all dive in, eating happily. You do notice, though, that none of the boys ate anything until you’d taken your first bite, watching you carefully as you chew and swallow the sweet mouthful of soft, warm waffle.
You say, curiously, “You guys never told me your back-story.”
They share uneasy stares, making you feel suspicious, before Jungkook takes the lead, surprising you at his forwardness. “There isn’t much to tell, honestly. We were born into a special family. Our parents are in a coven together and our families all go back generations. All of us belong to the same main family, but because creatures like us form clusters, we are spread out all over the world.”
“What does that mean?”
“To put it simply, there’s one main family to which we plead allegiance to. The head of the family – currently being Namjoon’s mom – communicates directly with the High Court, who organizes and carries out our legal system. There can be hundreds of clusters within a coven, so we’re just one of many.”
You think for a moment before you say, “Namjoon’s mom is like… an area manager, and Namjoon is like… the owner of a store?”
Jimin giggles at your layman explanation before he replies, “More like, Joonie-hyung’s mom is a COO. Namjoon is the owner of a store that the main branch owns. But like… a big one, you know?”
You snort. “Why is there only seven of you?”
Jin replies, simply, “We don’t want anyone else.”
“Really?”
“If we wanted to,” Yoongi says, coolly. “We could have a cluster of over twenty different bodies. There are plenty of vampires on campus who want to join us.”
Your eyes bug out of your head. “Wait, wait, wait. There are more of you?”
Jin lets out an explosive laugh, and you’re enamored with the way his eyes crinkle at the sides when he does so. He says, bemusedly, “You thought we were the only supernatural people at our university? Petal, the campus is huge.”
“But still!”
They all laugh at your lack of forethought. Jungkook comments, putting his hand over yours and giving it a comforting squeeze. “Don’t worry, noona. Nobody would hurt you. You smell too much like us for you to be messed with by anyone with sense.”
You echo, brow puckering, “Smell?”
“We scent you,” Jimin explains. “Nothing weird or gross, so don’t feel that we’re invading your privacy. It’s just a natural exchange of scent so other supernaturals with sensitive noses can smell that we’ve laid claim.”
Rearing back to stare the orange-haired boy down, you ask, winding your neck back, “Claim?”
“It sounds offensive but in our community, it just means that you belong under our protection,” Jungkook hurries to explain, smiling apologetically. “Hyung didn’t mean to make it sound so caveman-like, I promise, noona.”
“When you wear our clothes or when we hug you, you are exchanging your smell with ours,” Yoongi moves to explain further. “It doesn’t just go one way either. We smell like you, too.”
That makes you feel minutely better, surprisingly, and they can tell.
You ask, quirking a brow in challenge, “So, after figuratively peeing on me to mark your territory, what does that mean for me?”
“You’ve been told about the fact that we consider you part of our cluster, right?” Jin asks. When you nod, he continues, “Well, to put it simply, we’ve begun a fledgling bond with you. Nothing will happen to you, but on a pheromonic and hormonal level, we’ve started to merge our scents, to bring you closer to our coven. We would… eventually want you to join us, but that doesn’t have to be now… Or, ever. There’s no compulsion with this.”
“There can’t be,” Yoongi says, slowly. He’s picking at the remnants of the banana split that Jimin was given, having long finished his own serving of tiramisu. “We can’t force you to Pledge. That has to come completely from your own free will.”
“What does it mean, to Pledge?”
“That’ll come later, princess,” Yoongi says, a soft uplift to his lips. He licks some cream from his lower lip, making your core thrum with heat at the sight, before he continues, “We don’t want to scare you off so early.”
“It’s best if that comes more naturally, noona,” Jungkook says, sucking on his thumb where some chocolate sauce had been smeared. A pink tongue works around the digit slowly, cheeks hollowing out as he sucks up the sweet sauce. You think you must be going crazy. You rub your thighs together at the sight, missing the way Jin digs his sharp nails into the meat of his thigh to keep his urges at bay. The other two aren’t fairing much better, Jimin having to pinch himself to keep his head in the game and Yoongi doesn’t think he’s turned half-mast so fast in his life. “Joonie-hyung will explain as the time is right, we promise.”
After shaking off the longing coiling around his spine, Jin grabs for your hand, with as much tenderness that he can manage and catches your eye as you gear up to argue. “Do you trust us?”
The other three wait in bated breath, stares practically searing into your flesh, waiting for your answer.
“Yes.”
Jin relaxes a touch. “Then, we can wait until the time is right. We wouldn’t do anything that would compromise your faith in us again. Honest.”
Exhaling, softly, you concede with a nod. “Fine. But, can I have some of that crepe? It looks good.”
“You can have whatever you like, petal.”
You completely missed the look of hunger that passed over his eyes as he watches you nibble on his food, fingers absently playing in some of your curls, imagining how perfect you would look with his fist twisted in your hair and contorting your body to fit his desires.
Everyone had heard of the Dirty7s, even distantly. Nobody could put names or faces to the members, but the name was enough to strike fear in the hearts of civilians, criminals, and law enforcement alike. They’re known to be methodical, impenetrable, and most of all, merciless. Nobody wants to cross any of them. Lest of all you - a college student stripping to pay her debts.
What happens when you fall into their web of deceit and lies?
What happens when you find you don’t want to escape, even when you know you should?
Masterlist / i don’t have a tag list / find me on twitter / word count: 2.9k
Walking up the last day of your heat, your entire body ached. You crack open an eye and hear the carefree sounds of outsideand it all just felt hateful to you.
You wipe the dried tears from the side of your face and stretch out lazily on your bed, feeling the vertebrae in your spine crack and pop as you move.
As you stretch, your hand knocks into of of the overworked dildos that you had fallen asleep gripping with every fiber of strength you had in your body. Self-pity floods your system as you roll over into a fetal position and contemplate masturbating one last time before you start your day. You don’t feel the feral urge to orgasm around something thick and pulsing, but the tendrils of lust still lick at the base of your spine so you fall into your desires and let your wrist do the work.
The same images that carried you through the last three days flick before your eyes. Strong, tattooed hands working up and down your spine, gripping your hair at the root, twisting around your hair in an unyielding hold. Warmth blossoming along your neck as his mouth works against your flesh, teeth teasing lightly, as if he were letting you know how easy it would be to bite into you.
Another, smaller pair of hands wrap around your throat and force your hips up, bowing your spine in a lovely ‘c’ shape. Soft words whispered against the shells of your ears, puffs of hot breath make you shiver as waves from the vibrations pumping into your body force you to twitch and write and grind your ass into the sheets, half of you yearning for more and the other half drawing away from the overstimulation.
Pretty girl.
Good girl.
You can take it.
You want more?
Who do you belong to? You belong to me, right? Say it, Pretty.
Is it mine? Is it ours?
How about here? You want me here too? You’re so greedy, YN.
Spread your legs. More. More.
I’m gonna come in here, make you all sloppy and messy. You’d like that, right? How about Hyung? Can he come inside after me, too?
Don’t close your eyes, I want you to see how deep you can take us.
Open your mouth. Show me how much of a slut you are.
Wider, Pretty. I can’t fit. Do you need some help or something? Here, lift your chin, Pretty. Tongue out… Further. That’s good.
Take him deeper. Don’t choke. Breathe through it. You’re doing so good.
Are you gonna let him come in your throat?
Don’t cry. Or, maybe do. I kinda like it.
You don’t know how good you feel inside.
You’re so fucking sexy, I’m going crazy.
“Oh-Fuck,Jungkook- J-Jungkook. Ugh,” you groan, thrusting the vibrating dildo faster into your weeping hole, biting your pillow between your teeth. “Jimin- Oh my god…I want it. I w-want- Ah, ah! I’m c-c-cumming.”
You leak around the dildo, staining your sheets as a flood of liquid rushes out of your body, toes curling and your eyes crossing as you tremble and whine.
Heavily breathing, you toss the slick instrument off to the side and wipe your hand on the soiled sheets. You were going to do laundry later anyway. But, for now, you felt dizzy and thoroughly drained of energy, but you can’t sleep. You slept more than the average hibernating bear over the last three days. You don’t want to sleep any more than you already have.
You grab your phone from your bedside table to see if you had any more texts from Jimin, who had kept his promise to text you infrequently throughout your heat. He didn’t overbear you with a need for a response, but whenever you did reply, he always got back to you within an hour.
It felt nice.
Check your front door.
He had sent it twenty minutes ago.
It fills you with warmth, a happy little smile working its way onto your face.
The omega in you feels cared for, so happy that an alpha was providing for you during your heat. It wasn’t smart in the long-run - it often led to miscommunications between alpha-omega pairs who haven’t clarified their relationship. The omega gets the wrong impression and subconsciously begins to view the alpha as theirsand that isn’t good for anyone. It can lead to bond-rejection sickness and that could cause lasting emotional damage on either side, usually for the party that instigated the bond in the first place (i.e the omega). The last thing you wanted to do was presume anything about his behavior during your heat to be anything more than just him acting out of concern for the omega who had latched onto his pack-mate.
The thought makes you a little sad, but it was better than the embarrassing alternative.
You crack open the door and see the wrapped take-out on the floor, as it had been three times a day since you locked yourself up at home. You had made a passing comment about not feeling up to cooking for yourself, and an hour later, there was food at your door with a small note written in Jimin’s pretty scrawl. You expected sharper-looking handwriting to match his feisty personality, but his lettering was rounder, more personable, and there was even a small emoticon at the bottom. A smiling face.
A lapse in thought had you sticking the note onto your refrigerator after taking a deep, long sniff of his scent latched onto the card, as you did with each one that you found in the bags.
(You almost broke your fingers with how fast you ended up back in bed, hands in your underwear, rubbing at your bud, as his scent triggered a new wave of heat.)
(You could never say it aloud, though. That such a big-headed cocky alpha turned you into a throbbing mess in mere seconds.)
You weren’t sure where he got your address from, but when you confronted him about it in one of your rare bouts of lucidity, he said he had it from the employee files in the office.
While something tingled in the back of your mind, you ignore it, too exhausted, too drained from your heat to really pay it much mind. Instead, you mindlessly throw the food in the microwave, stomach growling as a hole opened in the bottom of your tummy as you realize just how ravenously hungry you are. After five minutes, you throw yourself onto the couch and flick on the TV, channel-searching for a little while before something catches your attention.
“Much of the research that has been done over the last 80 years into alpha-beta-omega hybrid dynamics have circled around the social and sexual behaviors of alpha-omega pairs. There has been significant scientific suggestion of a strong causal association between platonic ‘pack’ relationships amongst A/B/O persons and health and longevity. Some social scientists imply that alpha-centric collectives may be the new frontier for hybrid social relations.”
Instantly, you call to mind Jungkook and Jimin. They both have implied that their packs are bigger than just the two of them, and you never got any scent of Betas or Omegas - the thought of the last filling you with something dark and unhappy that you didn’t want to label.
“Historically, alphas have been said to have been the strongest, most powerful classification type, occupying the typical protector/provider title of the pack. They are the heads of the pack, the leaders and the ones who have most of the responsibility for the safety of their dependents. Betas, who make up the largest population group of the three classifications, are the gatherers of the pack. Omegas, who make up less than 4% of the general hybrid population, are the most emotionally dependent, the child-bearer/rearer and the leader of the domestic sphere.”
“Betas have no sensitivity to pheromones released by alphas and omegas, although there has been some suggestion that compulsion can be sensed by betas from alphas who have a very strong ‘compulsion’.”
“‘Compulsion’ is just as the word suggests. Alphas have an innate ability to force their ‘will’ upon weaker hybrids, especially ‘super-Alphas’ (a new term coined by lead hybrid dynamic social-scientist and Alpha, Dr Jennie Kim). Super-alphas are almost entirely apex-predators with an irresistible presence.”
Super-alphas. You almost laugh at the term. What could possibly separate a regular alpha from a ‘super-alpha’? You think back to the times where you were around Jungkook, the warm way he handled you, the softness in his eyes whenever he looks at you. Then, you think about Jimin, and that first interaction that you had with him - the pressure that weighed down on your shoulders, the way he swaggered around without a care in the world, the wave of nausea that crashed over your head.
You suppose that maybe there might be something there.
“As of the start of the year, there is said to be up to two hundred registered single-classification packs. Alpha who bond with Alphas. Betas who bond with Betas. Omegas who bond with only other Omegas. Although the dynamics are different to the traditional A/B/O pack collective, the feelings that are generated amongst the pack bonds are just as important and as influential. It has long been suggested that single-classification packs are unstable, however recent research implies that that assumption is baseless.”
“Yes, the sex dynamics are different. The pheromones that are released during ruts/heats respectively cannot be found naturally, so the creation of synthetic pheromone medication has become incredibly popular within the last two years.”
You shoot a glance at your bathroom where you had your untouched stock of synthetic cologne that you used to help you through your heat. It didn’t smell all the way real but it made the blistering heat in your head calm only slightly. There was a significant absence of a hot body on top of your own, weighing you down. There were no hands touching you as if they owned you. There were no lips at your ear, whispering filthy words to you as you crest and climax, helplessly.
So, in one way, it made heats a little easier, it made coming easier because your imagination could run a little wilder. But in another, it was unbearable. It made the experience entirely unsatisfying and left you with an empty feeling that lasted for days even after your heat had finished. Plus, you had read somewhere that there was a risk of becoming scent-blind if used counterfeit versions too heavily and that was enough to put you off it completely.
“Without the crutch of a dependent omega to pour their provident instincts into, and being surrounded by equally as self-reliant alphas, the innate desire to dominate would become too intense to control, leading to an extended feral episode.
This feral episode would only further be compounded by the presence of other alphas within the same pack. Emotionally close, due to their bonded nature, but too similar in classification to be able to depress the tension built over time, the other alphas within the pack could be exposed to the errant pheromones.”
You wonder, idly, if there had ever been conflict between Jungkook’s pack. The idea makes your heart ache.
“A multitude of issues surrounding concepts of tensions, in-fighting, feral episodes, rut/heat, hierarchal respect, instinct and sexual domination are very controversial aspects that lead to multi-faceted conversations. These potentially critical consequences have been used as justifications for the opposition to the establishment of omega-less packs across the country.”
“Seeing an alpha-alpha pair has become more normalized over time. Some social groups have protested and shown dissent towards alternative pack dynamics, labelling the deviation as unnatural, however social scientists simply ask for respect and tolerance for new orientations and platonic/romantic relationships amongst hybrid groups.”
The mini-documentary goes on to discuss the sex politics between alphas in graphic detail, enough to make your imagination spark up once more and you end up touching yourself one last time before the last of your heat leaves you. Honestly, the urges weren’t strong enough to justify it, but the continued mentioning of knots and rut and slick and dominating kept bringing Jungkook’s face to mind.
You wondered how big his knot might be. If it was thick. If it would leave you unable to move even an inch. The smell of him lasting on your for days. The feeling of his teeth piercing your neck to mark you as his own. Being unable to shift without his permission. To have his heavy weight on your back and holding you in place as he had his way with you.
It was irresistible.
The day finishes without much else happening and you finally get to leave to go back to work at the library the following day. You aren’t allowed at the club for another two days because your scent was tinged with heat-sweetness and might be enticing enough to trigger some of your creepier clientele or even provoke an early heat amongst staff.
You find yourself welcomed back with a loving hug and a small baggie of chocolate eclairs that your boss’ partner had made too much of over your week away.
Because you might have been a little weak, your boss let you spend your shift just relocating the appropriate books in the new children’s library - your pet project - and decorate the small area with any materials the library had in the back offices, also known as the tombs.
You were in the middle of hand-stitching some coral reefs made up of colorful felt material when your phone pings.
You aren’t at home?
Confused, you push your curls out of your face, having taken down your braids the last few hours of your quarantined heat at home. I’m at work.
Your phone pings a series of times, the sound relentless and drawing a frustrated sound out of your throat.
Are you crazy?
You’re in heat!
Go home.
You reply, a fluttering of something in your tummy at his apparent concern, I’m in the middle of something. Stop distracting me.
Jimin retorts, and even though there aren’t any caps lock letters, you feel like he’s angry, You shouldn’t be at the club.
Go the fuck home before I call Rocky and kick his fucking ass.
You respond, rolling your eyes at his attitude, I’m not at the club. I’m at the library.
A pause, as if he were catching himself, before he answers, Oh, I forgot you were a nerd’s walking wet-dream.
It wasn’t an apology. You feel like those are a dime-a-dozen to get out of the tabby-hybrid.
Then, another question: What time do you finish?
Your expression dims, instantly. No.
You can almost see the huff on his face. I didn’t even get to ask.
With a scoff, you retort, I don’t want to hear it.
Then, you continue, feeling the need to explain yourself somewhat, You helped me during my heat. Thank you for that. But we don’t need to keep texting.
He enquires, Why?
You counter, as if it’s the only answer in the world that makes sense: You’re my boss.
Technically I’m your boss’ boss’ boss.
With a scowl, you question, Do you ever… stop?
Never. Just ask my husband.
You aren’t even surprised by his lecherous response at this point. I don’t even know why we’re still talking.
You balance your phone on the top of a pile of Disney storybooks, peeking a glance every few minutes, annoyed at how eager you were for his response, which comes in quickly. Come on, Pretty. Let me drive you home. Jungkook won’t stop whining. And I haven’t seen your face in a while.
You take this opportunity to gloat a little, not really flirting as much as you were teasing. So, what? You miss me or something?
He acknowledges, simply: Or something.
You state, firmly, You can’t pick me up. I shouldn’t be around alphas.
Jimin recounts, simply, I’m bonded.
I’m not.
Jimin’s smirk flashes in your mind’s eye as you receive his answering message, You think you might fall for me, Pretty?
Go to hell.
Jimin answers,Ouch.
Then, some moments later, your phone pings. Fine. Take a cab home instead of the subway.
How do you know I take the subway?
Jimin asks, adding a sarcastic emoticon on the end, You have a car that I didn’t see?
Touche.
Your phone pings one last time, but it wasn’t a text message. instead, it was a deposit into your mobile payment app with a short message attached.
Take the fucking cab, YN.
You don’t reply, but you can’t stop yourself from grinning, brightly. There was no legal way to explain how Jimin has your information, but something is telling you that there were things that this man, that the men he was connected with, could do that would take your breath away.
Now, you were still trying to decide whether or not that was a good thing.
Summary:He was right. You don’t spend time like this with the others, you don’t sleep with the others. You don’t… And because your thoughts begin to bleed into a dangerous territory, one that resembles feelings, you pre-empt it. “You’re being reckless.”
Warnings/Tags: RATED M (18+) for language, smut (fem-reader; fingering; penetrative sex; multiple orgasms; but this is v v angsty sex); mega mega ANGST; basically, I oscillate between having tortuous romanic feelings for Namjoon in this capacity or writing him as a god among men in smutty one-shots using his dimples as a plot device, unfortunately this time it’s the former and I will therefore make it everyone’s issue; there’s crying during sex except they’re the ones having sex and it’s actually me who’s crying ha; pwp, as in ‘porn with pheelings’ (the bad kind); if there are errors, I apologise in advance (I was crying, remember?) + please do proofread in your mind as you read haha; the reader is an (implied) escort; non-idol!AU - Chaebol!Namjoon.
=====
Dkfjlghdskfg ummm, this is very angsty and has a lot of pain in it :]
I was listening to Don’t(eAeon ft. RM) and I was like, huh, what if I wrote something based on that and the vibe of the song but make it 1000x more painful???? And because there is no one to stop me, least of all myself lmao, here we are! :D
Lastly, I would say happy reading but that would be a bit counterintuitive, oops
=====
-
Teheran-ro or Teheran Valley, as it’s colloquially called, has skyscrapers closer to heaven than the ground. Its windows, uniform and neat, blaze blue, yellow, phosphorescent white. The lights on the ground, headlights of expensive cars, the red tail lights of swaying buses, they follow a straight path up (or down, depending on where you look).
It’s Gangnam, it’s in your face, and it’s reckless.
You knew Namjoon was being idiotic when he picked the grand master suite.
And you knew that he was being totally ludicrous when he offered to walk in together, taking the elevators from the lobby up and up, rocketing to the right floor.
The doors, with in-laid gold, slide open, even the way the air smells here is expensive. You’re still deciding whether to be infuriated or not. He’s being thoughtless on purpose.
Still, you follow him as he shortened his strides, his hand near yours but never touching. Not under the prying eyes of the cameras on the ceiling, nor the unassuming guests meandering the hallways either. You weren’t one to risk an outburst, no, the room would be vast enough for that.
The room would be accommodating for a real conversation; for someclarity to the way Namjoon’s behaving.
It’s quiet, few words are exchanged with the hotelier. You stare at the back of his head, the neatly trimmed line where it fades into tan. There’s a mole at the nape, it’s small but it’s there. That helps focus you a little, helps you ground things into reality. It leads to the intimidating heft of his wool overcoat, the hem is closer to his ankles, its shoulders are a blunt slope.
The door appears rather unceremoniously, the hotelier explains that you simply need to scan a card. Namjoon is gracious and asks a few questions about the room, its theme, the construction. The hotelier manages them swiftly, also pointing out that there were various, personalised items awaiting him.
It’s an honour for someone of the Kim Group to be staying with us and his, uh, guest of course.
As the said guest, you try and hold back a snort as Namjoon laughs. That superficial laugh that he does when he has to represent his family. In this context, you’re nameless, akin to an acquaintance, barring the fact that it’s just you and you’re staying in a hotel suite that models as a decently-sized, luxury apartment.
It takes an age before the hotelier leaves. He’s giving you a brief tour of the space when you notice the folded bathrobe with monogrammed initials, the same gold cursive is found on the corner of the pillows. You see his initials and yours. The gold greets you as soon as you make it past the threshold, floor to ceiling windows giving way to the city. It’s prettier from above, you feel less of an ant.
“We have room service at any time, if you press the designated button here,” the hotelier instructs.
You were sure that he didn’t mean to be condescending in the information he imparts but it’s evident in his tone that he knew he had to pivot. Namjoon smiles politely. It’s polite because he doesn’t show teeth, so his dimples a pressed deeper, his eyes curving up in this faux display of satisfaction.
The bedroom is, by normal standards, huge.The bed rivals it, taking up most of the wall, flanked by floating nightstands, softly lighting its vicinity. Namjoon has shrugged off his coat, his suit is tailored, his tie is a deep burgundy. A final instruction comes in the form of a menu, for what, you didn’t care for. You were burning holes into Namjoon with your stare.
It seems that he can feel it too by the way he’s scratching the nape of his neck, his muscles moulding the sleeve of that expensive suit. He’s wearing the cufflinks you gifted him, it’s a personal gift, his initials were on it in a subtle emboss. The hotelier flits his gaze between you both, his smile is strained. Namjoon picks up the cue and thanks him, noting his name at the same time.
He leaves, disappearing round the corner with haste.
And just like that, you’re left alone.
Seconds transpire as Namjoon sheds his layers, not saying anything at all. You’re still in your coat, waiting for some sort of explanation.
“What?” He asked, sitting on the edge of the bed, looking at your face as he tilts his head.
“Why did you do that?”
He rests his elbows on top of his knees, webbing his fingers loosely, “it’s not like we haven’t done this before.”
Namjoon was many things. He was diplomatic, discrete, intelligent. He was raised with all the right tools to take over a company and lead by example. He knew how to operate within certain boundaries and he was clear on yours. He was someone who would heed caution. It didn’t suit him to be so brash.
“I have other clients - this won’t look good for either of us.”
The distance between you remains, an impossible gulf of three paces. You stand, arms crossed, wary.
“I’m not like your other clients.”
He was right. You don’t spend time like this with the others, you don’t sleepwith the others. You don’t…
And because your thoughts begin to bleed into a dangerous territory, one that resembles feelings,you pre-empt it.
“You’re being reckless.”
He considers your criticism for a minute. You stare at each other, the space between oddly stretching. It’s adversarial.
“My father wants me to marry.”
You waver a little, startled by his candour. Marriage was inevitable, sure. It came with his responsibilities, neatly packaged, awaiting him when the time comes. The extravagance begins to make sense and Teheran Valley reveals its talons in the night. It’ll be witness to the last tryst before you part ways. It won’t be so bad, you think, this Presidential suite view on Seoul.
The truth sits uncomfortably between you, the fickle nature of this arrangement.
“That’s good then. You’re finally going to settle.”
Namjoon glares at you with as much vitriol as he could manage. You knew because he juts his jaw out slightly, the tip of his tongue resting on his molars.
“I want to marry you.”
Stubbornness was also his trait. It’s how he’s managed to live under the oppressive shadow of his father. But that led to a lack of foresight and a lack of understanding of reality as it unravels. He’s always been like that, a bit naive and a lot more hopeful than most. Yet, he can still make you smile, despite it all.
“We can’t have that, can we?” You asked, closing the distance in slow strides, taking your time to shed your coat. The air conditioner bites your skin, his eyes survey your body, tracing it under the silken satin. Blue was his colour and he loved it on you.
His hands steady you as you straddle him, arms looping over his neck, leaning back to see him up close. Besides the tan, his skin is dotted with tiny moles, an irregular constellation that wouldn’t make him Namjoon without. There’s some stubble that you scratch, the pad of your thumb on the sharp bristles, they poke out of his smooth skin in jagged spears. They felt better between your thighs. And his eyes, the ones he hated for a while because of the shape, they’re hooded, I hate them.
But you could never muster the same sentiment. It’s different when you’re the admirer, you don’t have the capacity to hate as you would do if it was yourself. Your finger traces his jaw, a smooth slope, tapering at his chin, his features are harmonious, his hair, cropped short. It’s carefully styled now since he came straight from a meeting. It feels better when caught between your fingers, short strands tugged at his scalp, eliciting that deep, grunt that you tell yourself only you can bring out.
Your examination doesn’t halt just because he begins to close his eyes, tilting his head so, a silent hint for a kiss. He gets like this when you’re alone, he gets docile when he doesn’t have to be a thousand personas at once.
(Someone who’s good at his job, someone who’s a good son, someone who’s a good friend, someone who’s a good person.)
Namjoon’s scent is cool. It sits on his clothes nicely. Your nose skims his neck to make the most of the subtle fragrance. Clean and impeccably memorable. His fingers, a steady pressure, slender then curved on your hips, hold you against him, his lips lightly pressing on yours.
It doesn’t take much for you to close your eyes, giving in to him.
(It doesn’t take much when it’s Namjoon, in any case.)
As his lips initiated that shy kiss, he delivers a reverent murmur against them. He says your name, a breathy whisper, his fingers clutching at your back, wrinkling your dress, corrugating the spine of buttons, the fabric tightening around your middle. You sigh softly, pushing closer, grinding your hips to rid yourself of the obvious flutter in your chest. No one is capable of that.
Only him.
But that admissions stays within the walls. In this lonely suite in the middle of Gangnam, high up in a hotel in the middle of street that makes its visitors envious.
When you were young, you were drawn to places with bright lights. You wanted the big city, you wanted it all. But the series of choices you made shaped your path to curve away from the utopia you envisioned, and here you are, far too close to the sun and it burns.
This unbearable heat that, you swear, renders you instinctual. You grab at him, letting your body lead you away from your burgeoning feelings because it’s unfair.
It’s unfair that someone else will walk up that aisle.
It’s unfair that he’ll spend the rest of his life with someone who isn’t you.
It’s unfair that you look at him with love but can’t say it out loud.
It’s unfair that his kiss sticks in the back of your mind, its ghost whispering on your lips in moments of quiet insanity.
“Tell me not to do it and I won’t,” he murmurs, he says it on your mouth, the slip of his tongue is all too distracting, the strength of his arms holding you so that you feel like you’re not entirely boneless. And you think that he’s always been like this. Too pliant, too willing to let you have a say in his life. But the responsibility of making his choices falls heavy on your shoulders, you can’t decide for him as he can’t decide for you. It’s the way the shape of your life has panned out. Namjoon’s path is pristine and predictable, yours is jagged and tumultuous. You envisage that it’s fate’s funny way of bringing you to your knees when all you wanted was to rise up and live.
“I can’t let you do that,” you replied, shoving his jacket off him, the heat of his muscles is immense, it blazes through the cotton of his shirt. You’re surprised that you still sound put together as he tries to fumble at the buttons behind you. They’re clasped tightly on the dress, he almost growls out his frustration, half attempting to tear the whole thing. He deepens the kiss, curls an arm around your waist, lifting you briefly so that you’re on your back. He doesn’t stray for long, reuniting with you in mere seconds, the weight of him is forever pleasant, welcomed.
You miss it already.
(You miss it all the time.)
“Tell me, just tell me,” he begs, tugging at your heart as you yank up your dress. He kisses you languidly, trying to persuade, trying to make sense of it as you were. You shake your head, gasping slightly as he mouths on your neck, you see the pillows as you give him access, your skin burning from him.
“No, I can’t. I can’t,” you repeated, hearing the undoing of his belt, the audible rush of his shirt leaving his body. You wait for him because it never takes long, and he kisses you attentively, makes you feel important, wanted.And because he’s still Namjoon, he still remembers, he takes your words in spite of how they end up spearing you both.
“I know,” he mumbles, placing his hand under the space between your back and the bed. You’re still in the dress, clad in this satin midnight that contrasts with the white sheets. At least you know that the farewell isn’t desire, you feel it in the way you grasp at him, moaning softly as his tongue licks at your mouth. You feel it in the way he slides your dress up, his broad palms and long fingers on your thighs, still treating you with as much care as he did the first time.
Namjoon was still nervous then. He never told you but it was probably because it wasn’t like him to form affection for someone like you. It was meant to be a one time thing anyway, so usual for people like him that his colleagues wanting to get in his father’s good books arranged it for him. You met him under the blue lights of a VIP room. You met him in an underground member’s club. He was still wet behind the ears, his eyes darting to the exit.
I’m sorry, was what he said.
It’s okay, was what you replied.
He didn’t touch you until the fifth meeting. Even then he was fumbling and apologising with each touch. It started with a hand over yours, an accidental brush that had him withdrawing as if your skin was a burning plate. That was easily overlooked. You didn’t know why you kept seeing him. You didn’t know why you didn’t tell him that you never slept with your clients. He figured that out along the way, a small smile playing on his lips as you came out of the shower, your skin raw from the water.
What?You asked, towelling your hair with care.
Nothing,he replied, taking the towel from you and proceeding to do what you have done for yourself for as long as you can remember.
(He still does this on occasion. His fingers, usually brutish and responsible for his clumsy nature of breaking things, lose that edge, combing the wet strands near your scalp to the end.)
His fingers find you wet, you gasp in his mouth as he slides a digit in, his thumb rubbing and rubbing.
“J-joon.”
He kisses you to soothe. The heat ripples through you, transforming into this fortified sensation of pleasure, the satin of your dress turns meddlesome and restrictive. He notices, bracing you against him to curl his fingers over the fabric, pulling out of you once to rip it to shreds. The gasp that comes out of you is sharp as numerous buttons snapped from their place; he swipes them hurriedly. Your skin pebbles from your cold, your nipples turning stiff as you’re exposed. He takes a moment to look down at you, his fingers glisten from your arousal that you rub your thighs together, anything to allay the emptiness. He shoves his trousers down, his underwear too, and it’s bliss, the way your skin feels on his. He supports himself, just enough to look at you, his fingers entering you once more without much ceremony. You throw your head back, lost in it, fisting the sheets below. He drags his mouth along your neck, sending wet kisses that trail your jaw, the filthy swipe of his tongue in your mouth. Your hands yank at his hair, enough to make him groan.
So what if you tug a little harder?
So what if there’s some malice in that act?
His fingers pump inside you, taking advantage of the wetness that drip from your velvet walls. He crooks them in the right way, reaching that spot that has your toes curling, your arms pulling him down because you needed to kiss him, you needed his taste, you needed to know that he’s real.
No sooner than you began, he begins to talk, although his voice is strained, “I have a place in Jeju. It’s next to a small store,” he starts. You’re desperate for the friction to take you higher, your thighs quiver as he holds you down, the heel of his palm connecting harshly where it counts that your body shudders fully.
“W-we can’t,” you whispered, your hips moving on their own in tight swivels, so wet between your thighs that it’s audible.
And because he never listens to you when you want him to, he carries on, “I can man the place, you don’t have to do anything.”
It’s followed by a deeper plunge of his fingers, your moans dying on the crook of neck as you try and fight the inescapable sadness that plagues you as he talks of a future that is shapeless, a future that bears the texture of wishful thinking.
“We shouldn’t,” you faltered, feeling too warm, too good to think straight, “youshouldn’t talk about that.”
He kisses you again, harder this time, you feel him going faster, it sounds lewd, how his fingers piston inside you, so much so that you’re moaning in his mouth, close, so close. Neither of you talk for a while as he brings to you the edge, knowing how you liked it, knowing everything about you.
It’s even possible to think that he knows how much you wanted that.
He keeps going after you came, until you’re pushing him away, wanting something more substantial, wanting the feel of him inside. And when he’s kneeling on the bed, sheathing himself before pushing in, you think that this is one of the last times you’ll be together, like this. The thought gives you an ache in your chest that renders your breathing to be choppy, holding onto him with a kind of desperation in the form of your nails on the muscles of his back.
“You don’t want to?” He asked, starting a slow rhythm, but there’s force behind his thrusts, filling you to the hilt. It’s not disconcerting, it’s right. Neither of you cared if you come away a little battered or bruised, if this is the last time, you wanted it to feel real.
As real as how much it hurt.
You don’t answer simply because you can’t. Namjoon is exceptionally well-versed in your body, he knows the cues you inadvertently give, down to the cadence of your breath when he’s doing something right.
“With me?” He asks, his voice shaking as you clenched around him. You shake your head, holding your breath as he bottoms out again, you feel so full that your legs start to shake. The pleasure makes you wade through it, finding a semblance of enjoyment despite the severity of his questions. Sweat makes you both slippery, the heat radiating off him is addictive, his lips, plush and flanked by dimples every time he genuinely smiles, his laugh, how it starts off small then grows into something unlike his speaking voice, you kiss him to push those feelings away.
It’s not that I don’t want to, you think.
But instead you hear yourself saying, “It’s not that simple.”
He grips your hip with one hand as he curls his arm above your head. Like that, your effectively caged, snug between him and the bed. His thrusts quicken to at point that you’re nearly unable to keep up, your moans mixing with how he groans as your inner muscles pulse over him. Resilient as ever, he slides his tongue against yours, biting your bottom lip, sucking and licking it that your toes curl in pleasure.
“Itis,” he insists, his kisses turning tender all of the sudden, you reel from it, tugging at the shorter hair on the back of his head, nipping at his bottom lip this time, your legs hitching higher. He moans in your mouth, his hand at the back of your knee, stretching you open that you shiver as the side of your knee meets the bed, your hips angle in a way that sends sparks along your body.
“You’re asking for things that I can’t give - you’re father’s not going to be happy.”
His hips stop for a second, he lets out a frustrated grunt, pushing you up further till you’re pushed to the pillows, he dips his head, his kiss is soft, too soft for these circumstances. Something takes a hold in your chest, the warmth is almost too much to contain, your arms around his neck, your chest pressed agains his, the hard planes of his muscles over your soft skin. He gives you another kiss, one on the corner of your mouth, starting to thrust again, groaning as you tightened in response.
“I’m not happy.”
You sighed in his mouth, eyes shutting for fear that when you open them, the tears will come and never stop. The pleasure becomes confusing because apart from the physical response of your bodies coming together like this, everything else hurts.
“Can we pretend?” He asks, letting out a shuddering breath. You’re close and you feel that he is too.
“We are,” you replied, holding onto him.
We always have been.
He groans as you tilt your hips, allowing him to go deeper. You gasped as he braced you against the bed, the air is heady, thick with anticipation.
“Up to this point, I haven’t been. Tell me you’re the same,” he says.
You almost indulge him but its superseded by the feeling that you didn’t want to unearth things you wanted to keep from him. It angers you acutely that you dig your heels on the back of his thighs, pressing him down, pressing forcefully, having him so deep that your words fail you. Everything is so wet, your sweat on your skin, your arousal mixing with his, dripping onto the sheets.
“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” you reprimand, sighing as he grinds his hips, prolonging friction. You encourage him by rubbing his neck, squeezing the muscles on the nape, he closes his eyes, leaning again, capturing your lips.
“Stop holding back,” he responds, pinning your wrists above your head. You inhaled sharply, totally restricted as he pulls his hips back only to plunge them again. You whimpered, tucking your head, seeing where you’re connected, the sight making you moan.
But it’s never that simple for you. It never has been and you decide then to say it, to make him face reality.
“Use me.”
Because that’s what I can do for you.
“W-what?” He falters, sounding bewildered.
But it doesn’t take much for him to figure it out. He always does when he looks at you in the eye.
“That’s what -”
The realisation makes you push through, gritting your teeth as he delivers a brutal thrust in anticipation of what you were going to say, he bares his teeth, hissing as you shiver, it travels down your core, your inner muscles clamping around him like a vice. His eyes blaze a warning.
“Don’t fucking say it - don’t.”
If he was going to be insistent, if he was going to dream up these fanciful scenarios, if he was doing this knowing how hard it was for you too, you could look him in the eye as he pleads with his.
“That’s what you’ve paid me for.”
He buries his face against the crook of your neck and you cling onto him, letting the pleasure wash over you in ripples.
“It’s not like that anymore.”
You dig your nails on his back, the cord snapping suddenly as you came. It’s painful at the end as you take him over the edge too. You bury your feelings as you muffle your moans agains this mouth in this messy kiss, full of yearning. What he said may be the truth but it doesn’t matter. Neither of you talk as your bodies sought to expel all that was left unsaid, your hair sticks your neck, your temples, he groans as you shake, sensitised from the slew of emotions that you never expected this evening. It’s final, you both knew that.
A while later, when he pulls away from you, carrying you to the shower, and handles you as if it was all other times, you still don’t talk. You stare at each other in the dimness as Gangnam, with all its luxurious possibilities, limits your freedom to the suite. He tangles his fingers in your hair, you grasp at his arm, and you kiss because you simply couldn’t fathom it.
And when morning comes, you’re tired, your dress is in a heap with his suit.
Arrangements are made for new clothes. There’s room service and you eat in silence, eyes avoiding each other in the light. There’s a staleness in the air as you check out, body and mind weary. His lingering touch, as he leads you all the way up to the door of your apartment, leaves you with a kind of tired that sleep can’t fix. But it’s the image of his back, his frame clad in a grey suit, his powerful strides reduced to a timid lope. His hand at the side of the elevator as he gives you one last look, those eyes that you’ve come to love so much were red, like yours.
That’s what you remember.
Months later, you’re in your apartment. The news reports of his wedding. It’s extravagant and his wife is beautiful. You don’t lower the volume, facing it head on while you think back to the first time, when he slept on the chair of the hotel while you were in the bed. Then you think back to when you grew comfortable with each other, learnt each other’s wants and needs. You think back to that one night, he said something and blamed it on the slip of the tongue. To be fair, you were both tired, drunk on the atmosphere of Jeju, coddled in the sheets, the villa yours for two weeks to pretend to be whoever you wanted to be. It was three words delivered quickly, breathlessly. You felt bad for not saying it back, mindful of what it all meant, this temporariness of what you had together. Yet after, you were softer with him and his acceptance of your guarded affection signalled that he knew.
Perhaps it’s because it had been there all along. From the moment you laid eyes on Namjoon, your face feeling all too warm under the blue lights as he rattled on about introductions. He was apologetic that he had to leave a some sort of monetary consideration after the end of the evening. Despite nothing happening, you talked and you forgot who you were. The difference was that it wasn’t a sense of escapism, all the armour you wore was hung on the hook at the door of that hotel for the duration of the night. You learned that those things didn’t matter to you so much when you saw his sleeping face, cramped in the way he slept on the chair. All that really mattered that night was that when he fell asleep first, you fell in love first. That was the last thought you had before eventually falling asleep too.
You wanted to be different to him. And it did end up being like that because he made it feel okay to revisit yourself beneath all the layers you scaffold over yourself. One time, as you laid side by side, holding hands, you told him about your dreams of wanting more than what you have.
It’s silly, never mind. I’m sorry.
It’s not silly. Tell me all of it, I want to hear it.
Persuaded, you told him all of it and he listened. He made it feel real.
As the news nears the end, an image of him appears on the screen. Namjoon smiles that polite smile you’re so familiar with, no teeth and it doesn’t reach his eyes. You watch until the next program rolls over, afraid of the stillness of your apartment. The night arrives and you lay in bed, eyes wide awake. You laugh suddenly, more of a puff of breath than anything, realising that fate was never more cruel than it was now.
You fall asleep like that, hollow and yearning. Those three words stuck at the back at your throat, waiting to be said to someone who’s no longer there.
Pairing: Hybrid Namjoon x Reader, Occasional OT7 x Reader, Occasional character x character ✨
Warnings: Angst
Word count: 3k
You stay close to each other for some time, taking in each other’s warmth.
“If I got them back, would anything change..?” You ask quietly as he plays with your hair, your head on his shoulder.
“This position would be a little more difficult if you did.” He jokes and you playfully slap his chest, making him laugh.
“No, nothing would change.” He leans back to get a good look at you, brushing your cheek with his thumb repeatedly. His eyes roam your face and you can feel the heat in your neck returning
“What?” You ask and he smiles, dimples on full display.
“Nothing, I just missed you..” He whispers, lips close enough you feel his breath on your lips.
“Y-you did..?” You ask, receiving a nod in response.
“I missed how pretty you look when you blush at me.”
You gasp, leaning away from him.
“I have never blushed at you.”
“You think I didn’t notice the look on your face when we first met in the shelter?” He smiles, making you look away.
“Which time?”
“When I had Jungkook with me.”
You gasp louder this time, making him laugh when you try to run away along with your dramatic gasp.
“I did no such thing! How can you lie like that!” You shout, scrambling away when he continues his laughing fit, reaching for you.
“We may not have remembered each other, but you definitely had a crush on me.” He says cheekily, pulling you away from the door and onto the bed, holding you almost on his lap.
“Liar! Scammer! All lies!” You try your best to wiggle out of his grasp as you hide your face behind your hands, not letting him see you.
“If I’m such a liar, why is your neck red?” He teases, pushing you on the bed and keeping you locked under him.
“Let me see your face.” He grabs your wrists and you shake your head desperately.
“(Y/n), let me see.” He says in a softer tone and you peek through your fingers, slowly letting him move your hands to the sides of your head.
“There’s my pretty girl..” He smiles, your eyes squeezing at his words.
He laughs loudly at your reaction, dipping his head in your shoulder after.
“Can I keep you here forever?” He asks, loosening his grip on your wrists, resting his head in the crook of your neck.
“I wish you could..” You whisper, sliding your hands into his, interlacing your fingers into his.
“Why can’t I?”
You don’t respond.
“(Y/n)..?” He lifts his head from your shoulder and sees tears running down your cheeks, startling him.
“Hey hey, what’s wrong?” He holds your cheeks and wipes your tears, which only makes you cry more.
“I missed you.. I miss you..” You cry out, struggling to breathe.
“I’m right here, you don’t need to miss me anymore..” He holds your face and you watch as tears fill his own eyes, dripping onto your cheeks.
You raise your hands and hold his cheeks, wiping his tears as well.
“Why are you crying..?”
“Seeing you cry makes me realize how much I’ve missed you, even when I didn’t remember you..”
“Can you promise me something..?” You ask, your voice wavering from trying to breathe evenly.
“Of course.”
“Promise we’ll always remember each other..?”
“You don’t have to ask me that.”
You lift your body off the bed and hug his neck, Namjoon hugs your back and hides his face in your shoulder, feeling each other’s body shake from fear and overwhelming emotions.
“Noona?”
“Yes, my prince?” You turned to Namjoon, who’s cheeks dusted pink at the use of the nickname every time.
“Will you marry me?”
It’s your turn to turn pink.
“Why the sudden question?”
Namjoon looked at the ground and picked up a wolf plush, petting it gently.
“I want to marry you, in case we don’t get out.”
You put down your water and limped over to him, holding his hands.
“Ask me when we’re older, okay?”
“But-”
“No, ask me when we’re older. It’ll give us motivation to get out of here faster. And when you ask me, we’ll be ready to get married.” You kiss his cheeks and he nods, determined.
You slowly wake up, looking behind you towards the curtain covered window. It’s still night.
You turn back, looking down at the pair of arms wrapped tightly around you as if you’ll disappear into thin air.
You look up at Namjoon who’s sleeping peacefully, no crease in his brow in sight.
You smile, cuddling up to him.
“Mh, noona..?” He mumbles out, his deep voice scaring you.
“Hm?” You respond and he looks down at you, relieved to know you’re still in his arms and it wasn’t a dream.
“Hi..” His deep voice carries out, making you get goosebumps.
“Hi…” You kiss his chin and he sighs happily, his limbs loosening as if he’s on a relaxant.
“I’m hungry..” You tap his chest with your fingers softly, catching his attention.
“I’ll get you food-” He starts getting out of the bed but you grab his arm.
“No, no. I wanna come with.” You play with your fingers, suddenly nervous.
“Okay, let’s go.” He helps you out of bed and follows you downstairs, all the lights in the house off.
You both walk in the kitchen and find the pot of food still on the stove, going cold.
“You sit, I’ll do it.” He shoos you away from the stove and you slowly sit down, looking up at him.
As he begins serving the both of you, you suddenly feel unsure.
“Namjoon?”
“Hm?”
“Do you want to do this..?” You ask, voice cracking. He pauses his movements, then faces you.
“What?”
“This..” You wave a hand between the two of you. He puts down the plate he was holding on the counter and steps closer.
“Why do you ask?”
“I thought you wanted to get to know me better, trust me more, all that..”
“I did.”
“And?”
“I am. I’m comfortable enough with you to feel good about doing this with you. Why? Is there something you wanted to tell me?”
“No!” You cover your mouth right after you reply a little too loudly.
“No,” You say quieter.
“I just don’t want you to regret not waiting..” You chew on your lip and he leans over, startling you when you see he’s face to face with you.
He frowns and sits next to you, food long forgotten.
“Why would I regret it? I’ve been wanting to be with you since we were kids.”
“That was different..”
He stiffens.
“Is it different now? For you?”
“No, no.” You say hurriedly.
“No, but, things change. A lot of things happened between the time we last saw each other and now.” You rub your arms awkwardly and he takes your hand in his.
“If I didn’t want anything, at this moment, I wouldn’t have held you so close while we napped a few minutes ago. As much as I don’t like to sleep alone, I wouldn’t have slept with you if I wasn’t comfortable with you. I’m sure I know what I’m doing.” He smiles softly and kisses the back of your hand, making you smile.
“You put the plate on the burner that’s on..” You whisper and he jumps away from you, grabbing an oven mitt and removing it, turning off the stove.
“Maybe we should wait. Just to get to know each other more.” You hold out your hand and he pouts, holding it.
“I still want to be with you, but I want to be sure of a few things beforehand.” You reassure him and he tilts his head.
“Not about me?”
“Not about you.”
“Okay, I can wait a little longer.” He smiles and his dimples make your heart flutter.
He continues serving the both of you food and sits directly across from you to get a good look at you as you talk.
“Favorite hobby.” You put a forkful of food in your mouth after asking and he continues chewing his own in thought, looking up.
After swallowing, he shakes his head and responds,
“Don’t ask me that. I have a lot and you work tomorrow.” He laughs and so do you, your smile brightening his heart.
“Okay, what’s your main one?”
“Gardening.”
“Really!” You say in more of a surprised tone rather than a confused one.
“I haven’t had time to do it recently because of,” He waves a hand at nothing.
“Allthat. But when I got adopted for the first time, my owner had a bunch of little trees everywhere and I would always ask to take care of them with the gardener they had.”
“Would you still like to continue that hobby?”
“Yeah but, with what time and space?” He picks at his food and you tap your plate with your nail.
“I mean, you have a year before your independence years start, so you could get started bit by bit.” You shrug and he smiles at you as you drink your water.
You look at him as you swallow, putting your glass down.
“What?”
“You’re so pretty, you know that?”
Your face goes red and you scoff, turning your face away from him, making him laugh.
“Don’t tell me you can’t take compliments.” He pokes fun and you roll your eyes even though he can’t see it.
“I can, I just don’t like them.”
He holds your hands from across the table and kisses your fingers gently, making your face heat up even more.
“Stop!” You try to pull your hands away and he laughs at you, interlocking his fingers with you.
“Why? I don’t get to see you blush often and you’re so cute when you do.” He rests his cheek on your interlocked hands and you hide your face in your elbow.
“If I knew you were going to be all sappy like this I wouldn’t have agreed to this.” You joke and he bites your fingers, making you jump.
“Hey-“
“You’re not going back on your promise, now are you?” He leans over the island and holds your chin, tilting your face up.
“W-what promise?” You whisper, nervous at his proximity and tone change.
He looks down at your lips briefly and back up at your eyes, smiling.
“When you said you’d marry me?” He whispers, lips ghosting over yours.
“Or did you forget? Sweetheart?” He drags out the last word and you almost become a puddle at the old nickname.
“No, no, no.. I didn’t forget..” You shiver as he kisses you right next to your lips, your eyes closing at the feeling of his plump lips on your skin.
“Good girl. Now go sleep, Yoongi must be waiting.” He holds the back of your head softly and kisses your forehead, pulling away to collect your now empty dishes and cleaning up.
You shiver as you stand up and slowly walk to Yoongi’s door, looking back at him when you’re halfway through the door.
He watches as you shyly bat your eyelashes at him, unsure if you want to go in.
He raises a brow and looks you up and down, making you silently squeak and shut the door with you inside.
He smiles and walks upstairs to his room, turning off the lights in the room.
When he makes it up to his own room, he changes out of his day clothes and takes off his shirt, laying on his bed.
Sliding a lazy hand up and down his torso, he stares at the ceiling, heart in the soil and mind in the clouds.
He suddenly covers his face with his pillow and kicks the air happily, a big smile on his face when he begins to fall asleep.
“Noona? You’re not going to work today?” Jimin sniffs your head as you cuddle under the blankets in the living room.
“No, someone asked to get more hours so I just gave them mine for today.” You pet him and he purrs, crawling over the couch to cuddle up next to you.
“Don’t you need those hours to get money?” Jungkook comes up to you both and sits on the couch next to you, covering his feet with the blanket Taehyung is using.
“I get the same amount of money whether I work or not, so we’ll be okay. Besides, they are training to become a co-manager so I’ll be able to be home more in these coming weeks.”
“Will you finally be looking for a new space?” Taehyung asks and you frown. Jungkook kicks him lightly.
“No, I’d rather just expand this place. There’s nothing wrong with this place, just a lack of space I suppose.” You look around and sigh.
“You really don’t want to leave this place, do you Noona?” Jimin asks and you smile down at him, ruffling his hair.
“No, I don’t. This is where I found all of you and where I found home. Nothing a couple renovations can’t fix.” You scratch his ears and look at them, frowning again.
“I’m home.” Yoongi comes inside and shivers off the harsh winds from the outside, putting up his jacket.
“Welcome home.” You get up and greet him, hugging him to give him warmth to which he greedily accepts.
“How was it?”
“Fine, the jerk that skipped out yesterday, which is why I came home early, came by today to listen to the samples.”
“And?”
“He’s taking it.” He smiles and you squeal happily, hugging him again.
“I’m so proud of you!”
He laughs and hugs your back.
“You do this every time I produce a song for someone.”
“And I’m proud of you every time.” You smile and he kisses your forehead, thankful.
“Actually, can we talk about something? It’s kind of important.” You bite your lip and he sniffs you lightly, checking if it’s anything bad. Nothing but nerves.
“Okay.” He looks to his room and you shake your head, looking up to yours.
“Oh,” He says, surprised that you suggested yours. Soundproof.
“Okay, let’s go.” He smiles reassuringly and you hold his hand as you both go upstairs.
Namjoon sleepily comes out of his room when your door shuts, shutting his own as he goes downstairs.
“Good morning sleeping beauty.” Taehyung glances up from his phone when he sees the koala sliding onto the couch by Jimin.
“Morning..”
“It’s 2.” Jimin looks up at him and Namjoon stops mid yawn, looking at him.
“A.M?”
“P.M, Namjoon.” Jungkook raises a brow and Namjoon nods, not bothering to hide his embarrassment.
“Namjoon, Jungkook?” Hoseok comes out of his room in a dark green hoodie and black sweatpants, brushing his hair away from his face.
They both look up at him and he waves them over, both of them looking at each other for context, but none of them know.
They both get up and Namjoon adjusts the strings on his hoodie as they both make their way to his room.
“You okay?” Namjoon watches as Hoseok closes the door, his small deer ears twitching whenever Jungkook moves around.
“Yes, but I think it’s time I told you both,” He takes a seat in a nearby chair and waves a hand to the bed for them to sit as well.
“How I got here.” He smiles.
“So suddenly?” Jungkook pipes up.
“You’ve been here for a while, and it seems you’ll be staying for longer.” He turns up the music in his room loud enough to muffle his voice from the outside, not that anyone would eavesdrop.
“I, was born as a deer. Clearly.” He waves an obvious hand at his small horns.
“I was supposed to be a male deer, or so I was told.” He rolls his eyes and both boys tilt their heads in confusion.
“In my family, the men’s antlers grew pretty large. Not as big as an actual deer, because our heads wouldn’t be able to carry that weight, but a little more than half of a full grown antler. Anyway, the women would be the same, so they would only grow up to 10 inches. My antlers never grew.” He taps the small nub growing from his head by his deer ears.
“I had the parts of a male, but didn’t have the deer genetics for it. So everyone thought I was female until I hit puberty, where nothing of the sort grew. Everyone thought I would be a late bloomer, but they always stayed this way, and my family didn’t want me for it. So, when the age came of when my antlers were supposed to be fully grown and I was proven male, they threw me out.” He keeps his smile but there’s something sad behind it, not letting itself show.
Jungkook doesn’t look at his tiny horns, but rather his face.
“Of course, I was young, slim, and attractive to others. But no one would hire some kid with no experience, no owner, nothing. So, in order to survive, I did what I could. Borrow.” He looks at the ground, ashamed.
“But in order to borrow, you have to return. I did the only easy thing I could do, where no one could tell what I was.”
“Stripping?” Namjoon asks and Hoseok smiles sadly, nodding.
“Exactly. Fortunately for me, I didn’t have to. I just danced on the pole and kept the mystery of what I was alive, bringing in more people to see what I could be.”
“What happened?” Jungkook asks and Hoseok sighs.
“It wasn’t enough. With the amount I had borrowed, and the money I owed to the clubs I worked at to provide me a place to survive, it was never enough. So, I resorted to sex trafficking. I was dumb, of course. I didn’t know what else to do but use my body to the best of my abilities. I was so desperate, I thought I was going to stay in that hell for the rest of my life. Until I met,”
“(Y/n)..” Both Namjoon and Jungkook finish for him and Hoseok smiles again, nodding.
“She had gone to one of those disgusting auctions where they would sell people who were all desperate for a better life. She had a few friends join her, so that all of them could be bought off by them to get a chance.”
“And for the final prize, the main attraction!” The old man pulled the large curtain off a human sized cage, a shivering deer hybrid sitting in the center dressed in all white lace and silk, showing off his curves and body.
“The Sweetest Deer of them all!” The man walked up to the podium and began looking around for bids.
The hybrid shivered from the cold metal under him but tried his best to look appealing to the crowd.
“Six hundred.” A woman’s voice boomed through the venue, silencing the crowd, a mask covering her face.
“Six hundred and one!” Someone opposed.
“Seven hundred.” The woman opposed again, her tone as if bored of the situation.
“Seven hundred fifty!”
“One thousand.” She said, the crowd silencing again.
“Any bidders? One thousand going once!”
Silence.
“One thousand going twice!”
She crossed her arms and stared at the poor deer in the cage, a tear sliding down his soft cheek as he watched her.
“Sold! To the lady In the back!”
They quickly wheel off the cage backstage and into a private room along with the other hybrids that were being sold off.
When everyone who is needed is in the room, the woman pulls out her phone and calls someone, everyone pulling off their hoods and masks.
"You can start the collection. Thank you.” She says and turns to a box, unlocking all the cages.
All the hybrids rush away from her to the farthest end of the cage, watching as everyone grabs a large black item from the box. The woman holds out the item to the deer, eyes closed.
“Put this on.” She instructs, everyone doing the same.
They all put on the item and stand when they are covered in a large black cloak, a hood to cover their faces from the public.
“Let’s get you home.” The woman smiled at the deer, holding out a hand for him.
He hesitantly takes her hand and follows her into a black car, waiting for him to get in.
Once he’s secure in the car, she drives off. He doesn’t say a word as she drives away from the venue surrounded by cop cars, the other hybrids being driven away in the same way he was.
When she arrived at a small house, a cat hybrid immediately opened the door when she parked, watching as she led him out of the car, another hamster hybrid coming to the door.
They don’t speak as she leads him inside into the bathroom.
“You can shower first if you’d like. I’d rather you get out of these things then eat and get settled.” She smiled at him softly and he slowly began removing what little clothing he had, startling her.
“Wait wait, you don’t have to do that in front of me. You’re in a safe space, I’m not going to use you.”
For the first time in a few days, he spoke, voice hoarse.
“Why did you buy me, then..?”
She gave him a glass of water to which he gladly took, drinking it so fast some of it spilled down his cheeks.
“So you could start again. Have a place you could call home. Nothing more.” She reassured him and he suddenly engulfed her in a hug, startling her.
“Thank you..”
She smiled again and returned the gesture, rubbing his naked back comfortingly.
“Let’s get you started, hm? I’m (Y/n).” You pulled away, turning on the hot shower for him.
“I’m Hoseok. Jung Hoseok..”
IF I TAGGED YOU EVEN THOUGH YOU ASKED TO BE REMOVED FROM THE LIST, PLEASE COMMENT BECAUSE I FORGOT TO UPDATE THE LIST AND CAN’T FIND YOUR COMMENT, HUGE APOLOGIES
Pairing: Hybrid Namjoon x Reader, Occasional OT7 x Reader, Occasional character x character ✨
Warnings: Angst
Word count: 3k
“What are you going to do today?” Namjoon begins a conversation with you once everyone has left the island.
“I have to take Jungkook to his session, then I’ll be going to the store to work since I can’t keep staying away for long periods of time.” You sigh and he glances at Yoongi.
“You sure that won’t be too much for you? Especially with your arm?”
“I won’t have to do too much today, luckily for me I mostly have to do markdowns and reorganize some stations.” You wave your healthy hand dismissively and Yoongi walks over.
“I can’t keep watch over her today, so you’re going to watch over her for the day.” Yoongi pats Namjoon’s shoulder and your jaw drops in disbelief.
“Yoongi!”
“Don’tYoongi me.” He points a stern finger in your direction and goes to his room to change for the day.
“Everyone else is going to be working today so they can’t watch over you, and Jungkook is busy, so that leaves me.” Namjoon scratches at the island counter and you sit up straight.
“Right, we’ll be alone.” You drag out, catching his attention.
“Well only a little.” He rolls his lips between his teeth and nods slowly, looking away.
“Could you two be any more awkward?” Jin fixes his jacket and you both jump.
“Leave them alone.” Yoongi gives Jin a pointed look and walks over to you, giving you a soft kiss in your hair.
“I’ll see you later, yeah?” He smiles and you blush, nodding slightly.
“Okay, be safe.”
He walks out the house and drives off, the rest of the boys coming to exit greet you with kisses and well wishes.
When you’re alone again, you slide out of your chair and pick up Jungkook’s food, heating it up.
Namjoon stares at your back and taps the counter top, debating if he should say something.
“Hey-”
“Noona I’m ready!” Jungkook comes down the stairs and Namjoon shuts his eyes.
“Good, here.” You take out the food from the microwave that finished heating his food and hand it to him.
“Eat, I can smell your hunger from upstairs.”
“You’re not going?”
“I didn’t say that. I just want you to eat.” You take his bookbag off him and make him sit, handing him a utensil.
“I’m gonna get dressed, be right back.” You ruffle his hair between his tall bunny ears and head upstairs.
Jungkook quietly starts eating, not minding Namjoon’s presence.
“Thanks..” Jungkook murmurs, his cheek full of food.
“For?” Namjoon asks, understanding what he said regardless.
“Last night.” He tugs softly at his shirt.
“Oh, no need to thank me. I know you would have done the same.” Namjoon smooths his long hair and thinks about cutting it, pulling up a strand.
“You’ve been getting closer to her, that’s good.” Jungkook picks at his food and takes another mouthful before he can say anything else.
“That doesn’t seem good.” Namjoon raises a brow, eyeing the bunny.
He shakes his head.
“I’m happy for you.” He stuffs his cheeks again and Namjoon frowns.
“Is this about what happened last time? You think I’ll leave you?”
Jungkook swallows down his food and gulps down his juice, slamming the glass down so hard it nearly shatters.
“No no, I’m not doing this. I’m going to speak about it with my therapist and we won’t have to put Noona in danger. None of this is going to happen.” Jungkook stiffly smiles and picks up his plate, aggressively washing it.
“Alright, I am set- Namjoon, why haven’t you gotten dressed?” You stop at the bottom of the stairs, wearing a knit (f/c) sweater and black jeans, boots to match.
“I was just about to. Didn’t want to leave him alone.” He stiffly gets up and leaves the room, jogging upstairs.
“How was breakfast?”
“Fine.”
“Did you get enough sleep?”
“No.”
“Did you want something from my store?”
“No.”
“Is there anything you’re forgetting?”
“No.”
You nod, used to this type of response from Yoongi and Taehyung when you first took them in, Yoongi lasted about 2 years and Taehyung 1.
“If we have time, do you want to go to a gym?” You ask, this time Jungkook doesn’t answer immediately.
“What for?”
Got him.
“So you can find another outlet, besides talking.” You smile at him and he side-eyes you.
“How would that help me?”
“Some people find the adrenaline rush freeing, you get to get into shape while releasing some of the stress. Without hurting anyone, of course.”
Jungkook casts his gaze to the ground, thinking.
“What do you think I should do?”
“Well, you could start with basic training first. You look like someone who would get into boxing, too.” You sit on the counter and he follows you with his eyes.
“Boxing?”
“Yeah, punching, tactics, self defense as well.” You tilt your head from side to side and he frowns, giving it some thought.
“I’m done.” Namjoon comes down and you stare at his white fitted sweater complimented by a dark green plaid jacket, black corduroy pants to tie it all together.
“Okay, let’s go.” You quickly hop off the counter and take your keys along with your bag and go outside, waiting for the boys to exit until you close the door, locking it.
“Don’t carry that.” Namjoon takes a small box full of books from your arms, taking it with him.
“Namjoon, I’ll be fine.” You smile at him and thank him when he places it down on a small table by the register.
“I don’t need your cut to open up again.” He frowns when you start slipping temporary bookmarks in the book, a clearance price on it.
“My cut is basically closed. I’ll be okay.”
“Then why are you still wearing the bandage?”
“Because Yoongi thinks a cut is fully healed when it’s scarred or gone.” You stop, resting your arm on the box.
“He’s not wrong.”
You squint at him and continue labeling.
“Do me a favor, get the other boxes for me and help me label them.” You shoo him away and he jogs to the back, carrying 2 more boxes.
“Ah-”
“Oh-”
Namjoon stops in front of a girl with fox ears, her piercings glinting in the light whenever she moves them.
“Sorry, I didn’t see you there.” Namjoon bows slightly and nearly drops the boxes, the girl immediately stopping them from falling over.
“It’s okay, I’m sorry for bumping into you. I’ve never seen you here before, I’m a regular.”
“I’m just helping out my, caretaker.” Namjoon winces at the name and tilts his head.
“Probably should have used a different term.” He chuckles and she laughs, agreeing.
“Yeah, I saw you immediately cringe right after. I’m Nora.”
“Namjoon, it’s nice to meet you.” He smiles and she goes to pick up a box.
“Here, I’ll help you since it’s the last box anyway.”
“You sure? There’s a lot in there.”
“I’m a strong fox, I got it.” She winks at him and he smiles again, leading her to the register.
“How long have you been coming here?” He asks her, watching her ears twitch at the sound of his voice.
“A little after they opened. I don’t remember when they did, I think it’s been a while.” She scrunches her nose.
You look up from ringing someone out and nearly shout when you see a fox girl carrying a box next to Namjoon.
You rush over and take the box from her arms, startling both of them.
“Hey-”
“Namjoon, you can’t let customers carry inventory.” You look up at him and he suddenly looks flustered, setting down his own boxes by the last one.
“We were just making conversation, she just happened to help me.”
“That’s fine, but you can’t let them help like that, they could get hurt.”
“Excuse me, I’m completely capable of taking care of myself.”
“I’m sure you can, but it’s company policy and I’m not having any cases started here.” You look at her and she scoffs.
“Who are you?”
“I’m the owner of this store.” You raise a brow at her and she looks flushed as well.
“(Y/n) your arm-”
“I’m fine, Namjoon.” You look up at him and drop the box on top of the others, walking back around the register.
He flinches when you drop the box, surprising him with your tone.
“Mh, I should get going. It was nice meeting you, I hope we can see each other again.” She smiles at him and he nods, smiling slightly at her.
“Same here. Have a nice day.”
She walks out of the store and you make your progress through all the books, a crease between your brow the entire time.
“Why couldn’t she help me?”
“Because she doesn’t work here. It’s one thing helping you with something small like putting back a book into your box if you dropped it but it’s another thing carrying an entire box with you. Some people demand compensation for it.”
You quickly finish your boxes and Namjoon looks through them.
“You finished fast.”
You tap your fingernails on the counter and your manager, Jeongyeon, comes in, waving to you.
You smile and wave back, your frown reappearing when she disappears in the back.
“Are you okay?”
“I’m fine.” You clock out when Jeongyeon comes back and clocks in, telling her everything that needs to be done.
“Let’s go.” You walk to the back and get all of your stuff, handing him his jacket as you make your way outside.
“Wait, (Y/n). Why are you in such a rush?”
“Jungkook’s session is ending soon. I don’t like to keep him waiting.” You climb into your car and so does he, both strapping on your seatbelts and driving in silence.
“I made my first friend..” Namjoon whispers and you grip the steering wheel tighter.
“That’s good.” You say, your eyes flitting from mirror to mirror.
He glances at your creased eyebrows and holds his hands together.
“She was nice.” He continues and you try your best not to squeeze the wheel any tighter in fear you’ll pull it off.
“Was she? What did you talk about? She seemed, interested in you.” You smile and park in front of Jungkook’s therapy building.
“She called my ears cute, I said hers were pretty, too.” He scratches his cheek and you click off your seatbelt.
“Let’s go get Jungkook.” You get out of your car and he hurriedly follows, struggling to keep up with your pace.
You walk inside and tell the receptionist you’re here to pick up Jungkook. She lets you know he’s almost done and tells you to have a seat in the waiting room.
You thank her and head over, taking a seat with your eyes closed.
Tapping a silent finger on your wrist, the crease in your eyebrow never disappears.
“Are you okay?” Namjoon gently takes a seat next to you and you nod, your eyes remaining closed.
“You don’t seem okay.”
“Namjoon, a moment of silence please.” You whisper and he jumps, blushing at your soft tone.
Nodding even though you can’t see him, he silences.
After 20 minutes or so, Jungkook comes out of the room looking for you.
“Noona?” He whispers timidly around the few people in the quiet room, but your head immediately perks up.
Shooting up, you rush over to him, sensing his heart rate.
“What happened?”
“Nothing,” He laughs, sniffling right after.
“We just talked about a couple serious things, I’ll be okay, Noona.” He sniffles again and you dig in your bookbag, taking out a mini packet of tissues, handing it to him. He chuckles and tears it open, using one,
“Thanks. Can we go? I’m hungry.” He sniffles out and you hold his hand, walking out with him.
Namjoon stares at Jungkook’s hunched posture as he pretends to bite your hand to lighten the mood.
“I don’t want take out, can you make me something?”
“Of course, what are you in the mood for?”
“Maybe naengmyeon or Bibimbap?”
“Well, now you made me hungry for both.” You smile at him and he chuckles evilly, his plan all along.
“You didn’t want to go check out a gym like we had planned earlier?”
He shakes his head.
“I’ve had enough exhaustion for a day, I just want to sleep and eat.” He gets in the car with you and Namjoon sits in the back, silently putting on his seatbelt.
He doesn’t want to interrupt his time with you.
“Yoongi won’t be home until like 5 am, he has a few things to do today.” You mention, Jungkook pouts.
“I wanted to watch a new movie with him..”
“He would fall asleep halfway, Jungkook.” You tease, making him scoff.
“He’s not that old to do that.” He waves you off and suddenly taps his chin in thought, turning back to you.
“Is he..?”
“That depends on the movie you were planning on watching and how tired he is.” You pat his hand softly and he groans, leaning his head back.
When you arrive home, you get started on the food Jungkook wanted, making enough for the whole house, and seconds.
“Noona, let’s watch this movie!” Jungkook seems in a better mood than in the morning, bouncing in his seat as he flicks through movies on the tv.
“Tell me what it’s about and maybe I will.”
“It’s about zombies-”
“No.”
“Wh- I wasn’t done!”
“Last time we watched a zombie movie together, you almost kicked Yoongi for waking up in the middle of the night.”
“Hey, it’s not my fault he walks so slow and groans like one when he’s barely awake.” He points an upset finger at you and continues to look through the selections.
“(Y/n)?” Namjoon startles you when he calls out directly behind you, jumping away when you toss the metal spoon behind you.
“Yes?” You respond, going to pick it up.
“You have a minute?” He plays with his sweater and you wash the spoon, nodding.
“While I make this, yes.” You look up at him and he rolls his lips between his teeth, teetering on what to say.
“I, want to make more friends.”
“Okay.”
“You’re not upset?”
You blink.
“Why would I be upset over you wanting to socialize?”
“You looked a little upset earlier, with the girl with the pretty ears.” He scratches his neck and you stop cutting the vegetables.
“I, was only upset because you let her do more than she should have.” You smile stiffly, going back to cutting.
“So, you don’t mind if I’m friends with girls?”
“Namjoon, you’re a grown man. I can’t control who you’re friends with.”
“Great, can you take me back to the bookstore tomorrow so that I can get the girl’s number?” He smiles and you suddenly cut the vegetables with so much aggression your finger becomes one.
“Noona!” Jungkook jumps up when he hears you stop and smells the blood, pulling Namjoon out of the way and running your finger under the water.
“Noona are you okay?” He asks, watching as the blood goes down the sink.
“Hm?”
“Noona!” He shakes you and you blink, only realizing what happened.
“Oh my god-” You pull your hand out from under the water and grab a few paper towels, squeezing your finger with them.
“I’m okay, this happens all the time. Do me a favor and get me the aid kit from the bathroom, please?” You smile at Jungkook and he hesitantly leaves to get it.
You take a seat on the chair by the island and Namjoon stares at you.
“(Y/n)..?”
“Yes?”
“Are you upset?”
“I’m upset I hurt myself when I just got healed. Another thing for Yoongi to scold me over.” You sigh, watching Jungkook rush back with the box.
He opens it and does as he’s told, carefully disinfecting you and wrapping up your finger in gauze.
“Thank you, Kookie. You took care of me very well.” You ruffle his hair with your right hand and go to finish cooking.
You clean the knife and throw away the soiled vegetables, cleaning the cutting board and starting over.
Jungkook pulls Namjoon away from you into the living room.
“You can’t distract her when she’s using sharp utensils, Namjoon.” He scolds him, sitting back down.
Yoongi walks through the door later in the day right when the food is finished, taking a deep inhale at the smell.
“Something smells-” He stops as he’s putting his jacket up, looking at you as you serve the two boys a plate.
“Like blood, what did you do?” He rushes over and tosses the rest of his stuff on the floor.
You wave your left injured pointer finger.
“Accident.” You smile, making him uneasy.
“Yoongi hyung!” Jungkook jumps off the couch and Yoongi sniffs him, startling the bunny.
“You helped her.”
“And he did a very good job of it.” You look at him pointedly and Yoongi gives him a soft pat on the shoulder.
“Thanks.” He walks back to his discarded items and Jungkook is beaming at you, his little tail wiggling in pride and excitement.
Yoongi takes his stuff to his room and Namjoon knocks on his door before entering his territory.
“Come in.”
He opens the door slowly, looking around the room and closing the door behind him.
“What is it?” Yoongi charges his electronics and Namjoon pushes his hair out of his face.
“It’s about (Y/n)..”
Yoongi takes a seat on the bed, waiting.
“She’s been acting, stiff..around me..”
“Since?”
“This morning.”
“What happened?”
“Nothing really. She got upset that I let a fox girl help me with some stuff and then proceeded to ask me about what we talked about.”
Yoongi waits for him to finish. He doesn’t.
“And?”
“And what?”
“What did you talk about?”
“Oh! Uh, I told her about how the girl said my ears were cute, and I said hers were pretty.”
Yoongi’s face drops.
“Then I asked her if she was upset about said girl with the pretty ears, and asked if she could take me back so I could get her number.”
Yoongi has his head in his hands by the time Namjoon is done talking, making him worry more.
“Okay, so, couple discrepancies here. One, you’re talking about a,” He waves his hands around to find a word but decides he can’t find a better one.
“Prettygirl, around her. Two, you’re asking her to help you be with said girl. Three, did you ever say anything to (Y/n) about her ears, when she had them?”
Namjoon slowly shakes his head.
“Ah, that makes it worse. Okay, (Y/n) has this, ordeal, about her wolf ears. She misses them, of course, but doesn’t like the problems they come with.”
“I don’t understand..”
“She thinks she looks better with them, but doesn’t want another identity crisis to happen. Or another hospital experiment to happen.”
“She wants them back?”
“I don’t know, what she wants. She’s always changing her mind. Point is, don’t talk about girls with her. Especially not about their ears.”
“Right..”
“What is it now?”
“I still, kind of don’t understand why not.”
“She’s jealous, you dolt. She’s jealous that another girl has your attention, god.” Yoongi throws his hands up in the air and Namjoon’s cheeks redden.
“Why would she be jealous?”
“Namjoon, get out.” Yoongi hides his face behind his hand and points out the door.
“Don’t eat so quickly you’re going to choke.” You pat a coughing Jungkook’s back, fanning him with a nearby notebook.
“Too late.” He chokes out between coughs, trying not to let food fly out of his mouth.
You refill his glass of water and continue patting him until he finishes coughing.
“(Y/n)?” Namjoon finally speaks up when Jungkook finishes choking, catching your attention.
“Can we talk? Alone?” He plays with the strings of his sweater and you look down at Jungkook who’s already eating again.
“Yeah.” You follow him as he leads you up to his room and Yoongi comes out of his, going to serve himself.
When you both make it up to his room, you stand aside as he closes the door behind him.
“Everything okay?” You ask.
“Are you jealous?” He suddenly asks and your face flushes.
“I’m sorry?”
“Of the girl?”
You stiffen.
“No.”
“There, you’re doing it again!”
“What am I doing?!”
“Getting all stiff and weird!” He sits on the bed and you frown.
“Why are you getting jealous over some girl?”
You scoff loudly.
“I have no reason to get jealous over her.”
“Then why areyou?”
You stare at each other and you look at his koala ears, feeling your own flick, if you had them.
You slide down the wall and curl up your knees to your chest.
You mumble something and he leans forward.
“What?”
“I miss them..and you’ve never said mine were pretty..” You’re too embarrassed to look anywhere but the floor, realizing how stupid you’re being.
He straightens and watches your unmoving nature, watching your chest struggle to take deep, full breaths.
“I didn’t think I needed to..” He says and you wince, hiding your face in your arms that are resting on your knees. He said the wrong thing.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” He gets off the bed and sits next to you, your shoulder touching his arm.
“I meant, I didn’t think I needed to say they were pretty because I thought you knew.” He looks down at you and you don’t face him.
“No one ever called them pretty…or anything nice..” You sniffle and he realizes you’re crying, something you don’t do often in front of anyone.
“I liked them, but the more I got tested on, the worse they got…” You quickly wipe your face and his eyes never leave you.
“Even before I got played with, no one ever said anything good about them.. So I thought it was for the best that they got removed.” You laugh to choke back a sob, not daring to look at him.
“I miss them.. Even if no one said anything good about them..I felt like they added onto me, like earrings on a pretty girl..It made her look prettier with such a small detail..” You sniffle and wipe your face with your sleeve again.
Namjoon digs in his pocket and pulls out the pack of tissues you gave Jungkook earlier, taking one out and tapping your arm softly.
When you look up at him, he holds your chin and wipes your face from your tears gently, your eyes closing when he dabs them.
“I think you look pretty with and without them. You’ve always been the same pretty girl to me, hybrid or not.” He rubs his thumb over your cheek and you keep your eyes on him, feeling your neck heat up.
“Am I prettier than her?” You whisper, slightly embarrassed.
He chuckles deeply, pressing his forehead to yours.
“She doesn’t even compare to you.”
IF I TAGGED YOU EVEN THOUGH YOU ASKED TO BE REMOVED FROM THE LIST, PLEASE COMMENT BECAUSE I FORGOT TO UPDATE THE LIST AND CAN’T FIND YOUR COMMENT, HUGE APOLOGIES
Pairing: Hybrid Namjoon x Reader, Occasional OT7 x Reader, Occasional character x character ✨
Warnings: Angst
Word count: 3k
“Hey, you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to, but why doesn’t Jimin have to wear a bracelet even though he’s recently adopted?? Namjoon sits up in the car and Taehyung glances at him.
“He was adopted under different circumstances.” You keep your answer vague, Namjoon understands it’s not your place to explain. Although, Jimin might not even remember.
“So? How did you get adopted?” Taehyung suddenly asks and everyone looks at him.
“Taehyung.” You stop him but Namjoon decides otherwise.
“What time?”
“What?”
“What adoption are you asking me about?”
“Namjoon.” You stop him as well.
The car is silent for a few minutes and you continue looking outside.
“I only asked because he asked about Jimin-”
“Taehyung, he gave me the option to not answer and I kept it vague. We’re not doing this again.”
Taehyung rolls his eyes and looks outside, crossing his arms.
You all quietly let the music play in the car and Namjoon stares at your head, trying to imagine what your wolf ears would look like if you kept them. Not like you had a choice, of course.
You shake your head aggressively as if you feel something land on you, turning your head in his direction.
Namjoon keeps his big eyes on you and you unknowingly begin a staring contest with him, making him smile when he realizes what you’re doing.
He keeps it up until his eyes are watering, your own still not unwavering.
“Augh-” He blinks harshly and tears run down his face, making you laugh.
“I win!”
“No fair! Again!”
“No, not again. Your eyes are dry.” You giggle and he smiles, looking outside the window.
Taehyung stares into the rearview mirror and Yoongi glances at it to look behind him on the road, but jumps when he sees Taehyung’s dark eyes staring him dead in the face.
“I’m driving Taehyung, no I am not going to play staring contest with you.”
“Lame.”
When you all arrive at the restaurant, Jimin hops out of Hoseok’s car and Jungkook holds his hand as to not let him wander away from the group. Namjoon stares at their hands and glances at yours when you reach for the seatbelt once Yoongi parks the car.
He takes off his seatbelt and walks behind you, watching your hair flutter around in the wind.
“Namjoon?” You call after him and he jumps, blinking rapidly.
“Huh?”
“I said you’re gonna get run over, come on.” You wave him over hurriedly when a car beeps at him, scaring him over to your side.
You hum in amusement, keeping the two newbies close to you.
“What kind of restaurant is this?” Jungkook asks and Jin talks to the hostess about your reservation.
“It’s mostly for hybrids, but they welcome regular people if they decide to come in.” Yoongi explains as the hostess walks you all over to a private soundproof room.
Jungkook, Namjoon, and Jimin look around as you all walk in the room, the door shutting behind you.
“Why do we need a private room?” Jungkook asks.
“We usually ask for one whenever we bring (Y/n) along, or whenever the whole group comes. Some people get upset that a human is coming into a hybrid safe space, even though humans come in sometimes.” Hoseok looks at the menus left on the table.
“This place is usually mindful of loud noises, since most of the hybrids here have sensitive hearing.” Taehyung glances at Yoongi and Yoongi immediately glances back, making Taehyung look away.
“You work in a studio..” Namjoon comments and Yoongi looks at him.
“I keep the volume on low unless needed otherwise.” He shrugs.
“He do be sensitive.” Jimin whispers.
“Taehyung, stop teaching him that.” Jin squints and Taehyung chuckles evilly.
Everyone begins to look through the menu, Namjoon and Jungkook going to both the Herbivore and Carnivore mix of the menu.
“This is so nice, it seems to be really inclusive.” Namjoon praises and you lean over to look at what he’s looking at.
Different foods that have different amounts of either more vegetables than meat or vice versa, giving them the option to make their own food at their comfort.
You stay in the carnivore section of the menu and Yoongi peeks over to your menu as if he doesn’t have the same exact section open.
“What are you getting?” He whispers to you and you whip your head around from his sudden proximity.
“I don’t know yet, I’ll probably get what I always get here.” You whisper back and he nods, looking through your menu instead of his own.
“Flip the page.” He says and you follow, stammering when you realize what you did.
“Yoongi.” You say in amusement.
“Hm?”
“Flip your page for me.” You say, watching him.
“Oh, sorry.” He flips his page for you and you snort, browsing through hismenu.
When the waiter comes, he closes the door behind him and pauses when he sees you.
“Are you all ready to order?” He starts, taking out his notepad and pen.
You let everyone order first and he nods, writing everything down.
When it comes to you, you barely have the chance to open your mouth before he begins to walk away.
“Excuse me,” You say loud enough that you know he can’t ignore you. He turns around and you raise a brow at him.
“I would like to order something as well.” You pile everyone’s menus on top of yours, not taking your eyes off him. His black wolf ears flick in annoyance, his tail smacking the door.
“Okay.” He doesn’t take out his notepad and you just take it as he’ll remember your order.
You say what you would like and he keeps his arms crossed as you speak. When you finish, you look up at him.
“Thank you.” You flash your eyes golden for a second and he jumps, taken aback.
He searches for the doorknob behind him and stumbles out of the room.
“Why did he do that?” Jungkook asks, leaning over the table to get a good look at you.
“Why did he run away or why was he rude?” Hoseok picks at the table.
“Both.”
“She looks human, not a lot of people have good experiences with them, as you would know. And he ran away because she did that.” Jin points to you and you continuously change your eye color from (e/c) to golden. You suddenly get a headache and you stop, closing your eyes and holding your head.
“I told you not to do it so fast like that.” Yoongi says worried, making sure you’re okay.
“It..looks kind of suspicious when you have one human and almost ten hybrids.” Hoseok says gently and Jungkook looks at everyone.
“We all look healthy, why is that suspicious?”
“Just because we look the part, doesn’t mean we are, Jungkook.” Namjoon reminds him.
“Fair.”
“Regardless, I don’t think he should have been rude. I didn’t do anything to offend him, other than the fact that I’m technically human.” You lean your cheek in your hand and rest your elbow on the table, sighing.
“No, you didn’t do anything.” Taehyung reassures and Yoongi keeps his eyes on the door.
“Does that happen often?” Namjoon raises the question.
You shrug.
“Depends on the situation and location. So as long as I look human, most hybrids dislike me.”
“But if you still had your animal features, humans would hate you..” Jungkook says sadly and you shrug again, not fazed by his words.
“You never win in this situation, huh?” Namjoon says and you smile sadly, shaking your head.
“So as long as I’m alive, I will never win.”
After dinner, Yoongi had driven back home again, watching you struggle to keep your eyes open in the car.
“You can go to sleep, (Y/n).” He says in your head and you shake your head in response.
“I want to keep you company..”
“You can keep me company in the house.”
You shake your head softly and he sighs, knowing you’re not going to listen to him.
Yoongi glances at you every now and then during the ride, a small entertained smile on his lips whenever your head lolls a little too much, causing you to wake up and start all over again.
He gently holds your hand and you smile sleepily when you feel his familiar warmth, holding it as tight as you can in your sleepy state.
When you all arrive home, he takes you inside first quietly along with Hoseok who’s carrying Jimin. He places you in his bed and comes back out to the car full of sleeping hybrids.
He would shake them awake, but he doesn’t know if that would cause a bad reaction in either of them.
“Namjoon, Taehyung, let’s go, we’re back.” Yoongi taps their legs from the front seat and Namjoon immediately sits up, startling Yoongi.
“Jesus Christ, you fucking demon. Get inside you’re gonna give me a heart attack, you look like you saw a damn ghost.” Yoongi slaps his thigh and Namjoon’s wide eyes go back to their sleepy state, sluggishly heading inside.
Taehyung doesn’t seem like he’ll be waking up anytime soon.
Hoseok and Jin come by once Jungkook has been woken up and inside, checking on Yoongi.
“Is he awake?” Jin crawls in the backseat and Yoongi shakes his head.
Hoseok stares at him and his brows furrow, getting closer.
“He doesn’t look like he’s breathing..” He comments and both of them whip their heads in his direction, eyes wide with fear.
Jin quickly puts his ear in front of Taehyung’s mouth and presses two fingers on his neck where the easiest spot of his pulse would be.
They both stare at the oldest in anticipation.
Jin sighs out a breath of relief and pulls away when he knows the bear is alive.
“He’s okay. Don’t say that shit Hoseok you’re gonna kill both of us.” Jin leans back into the bear’s neck and Hoseok flushes.
“Sorry.”
Jin suddenly bites into Taehyung’s neck and the two gasp, jumping back when Taehyung’s eyes shoot open and attempt to grab at whoever attacked him.
Jin grabs his wrist and pins them to the back of Taehyung’s neck, crossing them.
“Relax, breathe, it’s just me.” Jin lets Taehyung take a couple seconds to realize who bit him, closing his eyes and taking in Jin’s scent.
Taehyung sighs, relaxing his stiff and tense body, Jin releasing him.
“You need to find a different way of waking me up. I don’t want to hurt you.”
“And leave you to get sick in the car? Not an option. Let’s go.” Jin leads his leg out first and crawls out, Taehyung following Hoseok inside.
Yoongi shuts the door and Jin walks inside with him.
“I usually just wait it out.” He says, catching Jin’s attention.
“That’s a waste of time. And he’s told me he doesn’t like that, he feels like he’s being watched.”
Yoongi stops right in front of the door.
“Why didn’t he say anything?”
“He knows that you are helping, and that’s the safest way for everyone, but he says it brings back memories sometimes.”
“I don’t think I know his whole story, then..” Yoongi walks inside the house and Jin walks with him, shutting the door behind them.
Namjoon heads into his room and opens the door, frowning when he sees his bed is still done. He changes into his pajamas and brushes his teeth, staring at his bed.
He goes to your room and opens the door quietly, finding Jungkook already fast asleep, fully dressed. Namjoon sighs and walks over to him, picking out his pajamas and closing his eyes, undressing him carefully and putting his pajamas on.
Jungkook can sleep now, but he’ll be uncomfortable for the rest of the night and be too lazy to change in the middle of the night.
Namjoon leaves the room after he’s done and goes down to the living room, looking around.
“If you’re looking for her, she’s staying in my room.” Yoongi says with a toothbrush in his hand.
Namjoon jumps.
“Ah, no I wasn’t looking for her.” He scratches the back of his head and Yoongi stares at him, continuing to brush his teeth.
Namjoon blinks and looks around the room, unsure of what to say or do next.
Yoongi doesn’t stop brushing, raising a brow.
“Okay I was.” His cheeks dust pink and Yoongi goes back to the bathroom, rinsing and drying his mouth.
When he finishes, he comes back out and stops in front of Namjoon.
“She’s still recovering, so she’ll be staying with me. Is there a reason you’re looking for her?”
Namjoon looks down at him.
Just a general question, no judgement.
“Yeah, I.. I don’t like to sleep alone.” Namjoon squeezes his eyes shut and opens them when he doesn’t hear Yoongi laughing.
Yoongi just stares at him and walks into Hoseok’s room, both of them coming out.
“I can sleep with Jin today, you can go ahead and sleep with Mimi today.” Hoseok smiles at him and Namjoon’s cheeks turn a darker shade of pink.
“Mimi?”
“Jimin, I mean. Or would you prefer to sleep with me?” Hoseok tilts his head and Namjoon looks into his room.
“I’ll..sleep with him today..” Namjoon whispers and both of them nod, heading into their rooms.
Namjoon shuffles into Hoseok’s room and crawls into the bed, blushing at the thought of crawling into someone else’s bed.
Jimin frowns, rolling from his side to his back, making a little ‘mrrp’ noise.
Namjoon stills, afraid he’ll wake the cat.
When Jimin’s breathing slows, Namjoon lays down and Jimin shimmies his way into Namjoon’s side, taking in his warmth.
He stares down at the cat, unsure of what to do. Jimin begins quietly purring when he senses Namjoon’s stress, calming him down.
Eventually, Namjoon falls asleep and cuddles Jimin closer to him, huddled under the blanket together.
Yoongi sits on his bed and watches you roll around after you’ve slowly and sleepily changed into one of his shirts, digging your head into his sheets.
He hums in amusement and pets your hair, brushing it away from your face.
“One day you’ll win. I will make sure of it..”
Jimin slowly uncurls from his ball position, stretching out his entire body and embraces Hoseok’s body, smiling when he moves around.
Jimin digs his head in Hoseok’s chest, pausing when he feels more muscle than normal, a deep sound resonating from the body.
He slowly looks up and sees Namjoon’s faded purple hair and koala ears, flicking when he hears movement.
Jimin looks down at Namjoon’s large chest and wiggles away, face red.
“Jimin..?” Namjoon says groggily, looking around for him.
He leans over the side of the bed and sees a cowering Jimin, not able to look at him.
“Why are you on the floor..?” Namjoon pets his ears and smiles slightly when he hears the cat purring, leaning in closer to his hand.
“Come on, get on the bed.” He tells him, pulling him up softly.
Jimin crawls back on the bed, keeping his eyes away from the koala’s chest so as to not run away again.
They lay under the covers a little longer until Jimin sits up, hearing footsteps coming down from the stairs.
Four knocks touch the door and Jimin crawls over Namjoon’s legs.
“Hobi!” Jimin runs to the door and whips it open, excited to see his favorite person.
Besides you, of course.
“Mimi!” Hoseok whisper yells, hugging him.
Namjoon turns over in the bed and Hoseok walks into the room, Jimin trailing after him.
“How did you sleep?”
“Good.” Namjoon whispers and he nods, patting Jimin’s back.
“Go wake up the others for me.” He tells him, ruffling Jimin’s already messy bed hair.
He does as he’s told and heads to Jin’s room first.
“How did you actually sleep?” Hoseok asks again, knowing Joon was just lying for Jimin’s sake.
“I didn’t sleep much, I was worried I was going to scare him awake..” Namjoon rubs the sleepiness out of his eyes and Hoseok frowns.
“Why would you scare him awake?”
“Uh,”
“Yoongi, I’m fine. Thank you for waking me up, Jimin.” Both of them turn their heads in the direction of the door where you’re standing.
“Good morning you two.” You greet, your arm already covered in new bandages.
“Morning.” They both reply, exiting the room and going into the kitchen, taking a seat when you and Jin head for the stove.
Yoongi and Hoseok momentarily leave the house to get all the plushes left in the cars, coming back in and tossing them in the living room.
“Hey, no. Go sit down.” Jin blocks you from getting near the stove and you frown.
“But-”
“Sit.” Yoongi gently yet firmly guides you to your spot at the head of the island, giving your head a soft kiss.
“Hmph.”
“I got it, I got it.” Taehyung gets dragged by Jimin out of his room, sitting him down next to Yoongi.
“Where’s Jungkook?” You ask.
“He didn’t want to wake up.” Jimin says, leaning his head on a sleepy Taehyung’s shoulder.
“I’ll go get him. Yoongi, you cook.” Hoseok leaves the room and Yoongi rolls his eyes, getting off his seat and going to help Jin.
When Hoseok gets to your room and knocks four times, he opens the door when he doesn’t respond.
“Jungkook?” He pokes his head in, looking around the room for the bunny.
“Hmm..”
“Jungkook, it’s breakfast time.”
“I’m not hungry..”
“Huh? You’re always hungry. What’s wrong?” Hoseok steps into the room and sits next to the unmoving lump in the bed.
“I’m just tired.”
“Mm. Okay, do you want me to save you some food for later when you feel hungry?”
“Mm.”
“Alright, I’ll come up every now and then to check on you.” Hoseok rubs his cheek on the blanket where Jungkook’s head is, leaving a comforting scent behind.
He leaves the room and comes back down, seeing you staring outside.
“She’ll probably come back in a month. Jiu likes to make sure you guys are doing okay. And she probably knows what you did.” Yoongi places freshly cooked eggs on everyone’s plates and Namjoon cringes.
“Don’t remind me.”
“Why, you having regrets?” Jin turns to him and wiggles his eyebrows knowingly, making Namjoon blush.
“Change the subject.”
“He’s lonely.” You say suddenly, not giving context. Everyone looks at Hoseok and he nods.
“He said he’s tired. Besides Taehyung, he’s the only one that slept alone last night.” Hobi ruffles the back of his hair and Taehyung looks up.
“I’m, not too comfortable when sleeping with people often.” Taehyung explains for Namjoon to understand.
“We’ll have to pair up. Jin usually sleeps alone, and the two don’t interact as much. Jungkook will sleep with Jin.” You stare at Jin and he nods, continuing to make french toast.
“Sleeping with Yoongi doesn’t happen often, I know he likes his space. This is just until he decides I’m fully healed.” You close your eyes and wince when you accidentally bump your arm into the counter, making Yoongi whip his head around.
“Which doesn’t seem to be happening any time soon.” Namjoon comments and clears his throat, making you slap his wrist.
“Ow.” He chuckles and Hoseok sits down.
“So, Jin and Jungkook, Yoongi and (Y/N), Jimin, me and Namjoon can sleep together. Or I could sleep alone.”
“I’ll take Jimin, you can sleep with the kid.” Taehyung leans his cheek in his palm and Namjoon sits up, opening his hands up to the air like what the hell.
“I’m older than you.”
“Not by how long you’ve lived in this house, you’re not.”
Namjoon raises a finger in Taehyung’s direction, wagging it to come up with a point, then setting it back down when he doesn’t have an argument.
“You got me there.”
“Are you sure you’ll be okay, Taehyung?” You voice your concern.
“I have to hold something when I sleep, and from what Hobi has told me, Jimin sleeps like a log. I don’t think I’ll notice too much. And if I do, I’ll just give him back.”
“He’s not a pillow, Taehyung.” Jin sets the french toast on everyone’s plate and takes a seat after covering Jungkook’s plate with aluminum.
After seeing everyone has begun eating, you begin to eat as well, making Namjoon smile with your habits.
IF I TAGGED YOU EVEN THOUGH YOU ASKED TO BE REMOVED FROM THE LIST, PLEASE COMMENT BECAUSE I FORGOT TO UPDATE THE LIST AND CAN’T FIND YOUR COMMENT, HUGE APOLOGIES
Pairing: Hybrid Namjoon x Reader, Occasional OT7 x Reader, Occasional character x character ✨
Warnings: None
Word count: 3k
When you arrive at the arcade, Yoongi barely parks when you shoot out the car, startling Namjoon.
You jump and run around excitedly and the boys smile at your excited puppy likeness.
“She reminds me of a golden retriever..” Namjoon comments and Jin smiles.
“It is part of her genetics.” He stands next to him and cringes when he sees the bracelet on Namjoon’s wrist.
“Don’t make that face, you’re not the one wearing it.” Namjoon squints and Hoseok collects you, making you giggle when he finally catches you.
“Alright, let’s head inside.” Yoongi holds your right hand and leads everyone inside.
“How does this work?” Jungkook looks at a sign reading the instructions of how the game cards work.
“We have one card, and we put at least 50 dollars for each person that works, and since we haven’t been here since before we got Jimin, we’ll have to find a new method.” Hoseok taps his chin and you look up at the board for how the cards work.
“Each of you pays 80.” Namjoon suddenly says as Hoseok is taking his phone out.
“What? You ask.
“If you all usually pay 50 for each person, but there’s only three of us that are jobless and five of you, the even distribution between you five would be 30 for us. 50 times 3 is 150 but 150 divided by 5 is 30. You’d pay 80 each in total.” He explains and everyone suddenly looks at you, who is staring at him with wide eyes.
“(Y/n), you’re in public.” Jin reminds you and you jump, your face beet red.
“Okay! 30 it is!” You start walking towards the registers and Yoongi follows.
“80.” He corrects and you whip your head in his direction, startling him.
“Just send me the money.” You whisper and he blushes, nodding.
“Okay.”
Everyone sends you money and you wait until they all come through into your account, making sure the three newbies stay close.
When you put the money in the account, Jimin tries to see the receipt but you hide it before he can.
“How much was it in total, Noona?”
“Nothing to worry about, Jiminie.”
“400.” Namjoon butts in and you swat him away.
“T-that’s a lot, Noona!” He looks at you worried and you kiss his forehead.”
“I didn’t pay all that myself so it’s okay, it’s fair.” You smile at him and all of you walk to where the games are.
“Why do you only use one card?” Jungkook asks and you hand it to Yoongi who has already found a game.
“We get points faster that way. The more points we earn, the more rewards we can get.” You follow Yoongi and watch as he hands the card to Jin and Hoseok, who go straight to the air hockey table.
“But doesn’t that mean you have to stay close by to pass the card around?”
“We’re patient. Besides, we have all day to play all the games we want.” You watch Yoongi make a character jump up on platforms to reach the top without falling.
“Do we have to stay close to you?” Namjoon asks and you look up at him.
“Not here no, but here.” You take their wrists and rub them against yours, taking their scents onto your skin.
“I’ll be able to find you regardless of distance since I’ve memorized your scent and breathing pattern, this is just for you. Besides, you have our trust link.” You tap your head and they nod.
“Just meet up with me when you’re done.” You smile and they walk away except for Jimin, whose eyes are trained on the jumping character, his tail flicking whenever it jumps on a higher platform.
Namjoon walks to Hoseok and watches both him and Jin hit the disk across the table, jumping away when Hoseok accidentally hits it hard enough that it flies off the table.
“Watch it man, almost hit my dick.” Jin swears and Namjoon snorts, turning away when Jin’s sugar glider ear flicks in his direction in annoyance.
“Wah..” Jungkook stares at the two girls playing a dancing game with arrows at a rapid speed.
His bunny ears twitch with every step they take and you cheer Yoongi on when he finishes the game, reaching the very end and receiving a large sum of points.
“You wanna play?” Taehyung walks up to him and Jungkook plays with his shirt.
“N-no..”
“You’ve been staring at it since we got here.” He looks towards the game.
“I don’t know how to play.” He says sheepishly and Taehyung walks to Hoseok, taking the card out of his pocket and makes his way to the dance game, dragging Jungkook with him.
“W-wait they’re still playing!” Jungkook panics and Taehyung stops right behind them, watching them finish up a song.
“We’ll queue. I’ll show you how to play.” He smiles at him and Jungkook stares at the screen as the girls hit every move.
“See? They’re done.” He walks up closer and clears his throat, catching their attention before they pick another song.
“Can we play next?” Taehyung asks with a soft smile, his bear ears flicking at them.
“O-oh, sure.” They hurriedly hop off and Taehyung pulls Jungkook onto the platform.
“I’ll pick the easy mode so that you don’t get too overwhelmed.” He uses the arrows on the floor to navigate through the songs and Jungkook jumps when he feels a hand on his back.
“I knew you’d come to this game first.” Hoseok says and leans against the railing leading to the bathrooms.
“But I don’t even know what this is..”
“You’ll know.” He waves him off and Taehyung chooses a song by a japanese girl with colored hair.
“Who is that?”
“I can never remember the name but all I know is that she’s not real.” He shrugs and the song starts.
Jungkook struggles to time the steps but eventually gets the hang of it, his bunny smile coming into view and he progressively gets better.
When the song ends, Hoseok claps for him excitedly.
“You did good for someone who didn’t know what this is.” He pats Jungkook on the back and you come by and take the card from Taehyung.
“Can we do another one?” Jungkook looks up at him and he nods, stealing the card from your hands before you even have the chance to turn away.
“Hey-”
“Just one second.” Taehyung swipes the card on the machine, handing the card back to you.
You follow Jimin to a game he wanted to play and Jin along with Namjoon join the boys.
“You can pick the next song you wanna play.” Taehyung steps off the platform and Hoseok stands in his place.
“You’re playing next?” Jungkook seems a little nervous to dance with the dance teacher of the group.
“Don’t worry, I’m not too good at these.” He takes Jungkook’s worry away and Jungkook doesn’t seem so sure.
He picks out a song from a famous girl group and sets it to moderate speed.
“Uh, you sure you wanna go that fast already?” Jin steps next to Taehyung, leaning on the railing to get a better view.
“It was a little too slow at first for me.” He cracks his knuckles and both Jin and Hoseok raise their eyebrows at each other.
After some time of using the game, Jungkook had beaten every member and the two girls who were playing earlier.
“Luckily for you, the girls had used their cards for their rounds with you so you still have money to play other games.” Yoongi watches you come up with Jimin, water bottles in both of your hands.
“Here.” You hand each of them a water bottle and they gladfully take it.
“Maybe you should come to my class, you certainly have the energy for it.” Hoseok says slightly out of breath.
Namjoon looks at a mario kart section and wanders over to it.
A woman stares at him and Namjoon frowns, turning away and walking back to you.
“Can we play that one?” He taps your shoulder, catching your attention.
You lean over to look at the game and you nod, following him to the mario kart section.
The others follow you and you take your place in the first seat, Namjoon in the second.
Hoseok rushes into the third seat and Jin sits in the last seat.
You swipe the card and pass it down along the line, Yoongi taking it away from Jin when he swipes it.
The same woman from before comes by to watch and stands behind Namjoon’s seat.
You laugh when the race starts and Namjoon starts screaming in panic.
“I can’t drive!” Namjoon announces and you struggle to keep your eyes on the road.
“You suggested this game!” Jin shouts, cursing when he gets hit by a red shell.
“Hoseok, I will eat you.” He threatens, making Hoseok laugh loudly.
“No, no no! Namjoon!!” You kick your feet exasperatedly when he throws a blue shell at you, making you lose your number one spot.
“Literally, how are you in first place?” Yoongi comments, shooing the woman away.
She scowls and takes her leave, but never takes her eyes off him.
“Asking the real questions.” Taehyung wags his finger at Yoongi and Namjoon throws his hands in the air when you hit him with a shell as well, losing his number one spot and so graciously handing it to you.
“Spoke too soon.” Yoongi covers his mouth in amusement and Namjoon hops off, letting the others play.
“Hungry?” You ask.
“Yeah, how did you know?”
“I can smell your desperation for food off of you.”
“Who is that?” Jimin cuts in, pointing behind you.
“Jimin, no pointing.” You cover his finger and look, the woman from before standing there.
“I don’t know.”
“She’s been staring at me since we got here..” Namjoon looks everywhere but at her, making you frown.
You let go of Jimin and begin walking in the lady’s direction but Namjoon suddenly picks you up and walks away.
“Namjoon!”
“She’s gonna fight that lady, watch over her.” Namjoon places you in Taehyung’s lap who is now sitting in the mario kart seat, ready to play.
“Who?”
“Not the point. Don’t let her get away.”
Taehyung happily wraps his arms around you and keeps you facing the other members next to him. Which was a mistake on his part. Because now you’re death glaring at the lady and Namjoon is trying his best not to laugh.
“Noona, why are you glaring at the woman?” Jimin asks but Namjoon gently hovers his hand over Jimin’s mouth.
“I don’t think she’s gonna wanna answer that question.” Namjoon ruffles his hair softly and Jimin giggles, suddenly hugging him.
Namjoon stays still and Jimin rubs his cheeks into his chest.
“I win!” Jin shoots up from his seat and Yoongi whines, leaning his head on the headrest.
“Woah, (Y/n), you okay?” Jin stops his triumph and stands behind you.
“Someone’s been making Namjoon uncomfortable.” Taehyung pets your hair and you sit alert when she starts walking over.
“No, I’m not getting between this.” Taehyung lets you go and you pull Namjoon and Jimin behind you.
“Relax lady, I’m here to adopt.” She crosses her arms and your face doesn’t falter.
“They’re not adoptable.”
“Then why do you have so many?”
“They’re my family.”
She laughs, not taking you seriously.
“They’re not family, they’re pets.”
“Which explains why you don’t have any hybrids around you.” You spit, making her frown.
“Just give me the adoption papers for the koala and we’ll be through here.”
“The hell I will.”
“You don’t get to keep so many hybrids to yourself. You’re being selfish.”
“For what, letting them get a chance to have their independence years?”
She gasps as if you said you eat them for a living.
“You’re letting them roam free?!”
“Watch it.” You pull Jungkook behind you along with Taehyung.
She scoffs.
“What, are you so desperate to be a hybrid you’ve surrounded yourself with them? Is that why you’re so desperate to keep all of them? Just hand the most recent one over, you’ll be less attached to it.” She snaps her fingers in demand and Taehyung grabs your wrist before you’re able to step closer to her.
“How cute, you have to have your little bear stop you.” She gets closer and reaches for Namjoon’s wrist but you, Yoongi, and Jin dig your claws into her arm before she even gets near him.
She gasps and tries pulling herself away from you three.
“I’ll report you to the hybrid control! Let me go!”
“And what will you report? That you harassed my family and proceeded to threaten their safety when they’re rescues?”
“You have no proof.” She manages to rip her arm away from Jin and Yoongi, but not you.
Hoseok pulls out his phone and plays back the video of the entire interaction, making her eyes go wide.
“Run that by me again?” You dig your nails deeper into her skin and she hisses.
“I don’t want to see your face back here again. You’re wasting my time and their comfort.” You release her and she rushes away, holding her arm.
“Noona!” Jimin runs to you and checks your nails which are now back to normal.
“I’m alright. Are you all okay?” You look at them and they nod, checking on Namjoon.
“You good, man?” Taehyung sniffs Namjoon to make sure but Namjoon doesn’t respond.
“You can keep playing, I’ll keep watch.” You hold Jimin’s hand as Taehyung gives the card to Hoseok.
“Are you sure we shouldn’t stick close?” Jungkook steps up and you shake your head.
“As long as the four of you are with one of us four, you’re safe. Usually Taehyung is able to wander but since this incident happened, we’re going to have to be paired. If one of you wants to play with a different member, just switch, yeah?” You explain and they nod, Jimin wanders over to Hoseok, Jungkook to Yoongi, Taehyung to Jin, and Namjoon to you.
You all follow each other to the first game you’ve decided to play and pass the card around as time goes by.
Namjoon has been choosing games that won’t strain your arm but will still let you have fun.
“Thanks, by the way.” He says loudly over the arcade noises.
“Why?”
“You didn’t let her take me.” He says and you look up at him.
“Don’t thank me for something like that. She should have some respect. She’s lucky we were in public.” You cross your arms and he hums in amusement.
“I don’t think being in public would stop you.” He teases, not paying attention to any of the games around him.
You scoff.
“I have decency. I didn’t want to do anything in public because it means risking the four of you.” You glance at him and he seems confused.
“Why do you keep saying four? Isn’t it just Jungkook, Jimin and I?”
“No, Taehyung isn’t done with his year of working.”
“What?”
“He’s 24. I found him when he was 23, and his birthday is late in the year. They start the 2 year process on their birthday regardless of the time you adopt them.”
“You found me in like, November of last year.”
“I know. Unfortunately, since you weren’t adopted by the time your birthday came around, you’ll have to wait until next year for your years to start, along with Jungkook.”
“That’s stupid.”
“It is, I’m sorry.” You frown at him and he rubs his neck.
“I’ve been..restarting for so long so another year couldn’t hurt.” He smiles at you and you blush, thanking the flashing lights of the arcade for covering you.
“Mm..” You respond.
“Do you wanna play something else before we go?” He walks closer to you as people pass by him.
“No, I spent all my money.” You shrug and he looks around.
“We should eat, then.”
“Already ahead of you.” Jin walks up to you with Taehyung, waving his phone.
“I called the nearest kbbq for a reservation.” He smirks proudly.
“Thanks.” You smile at him and the others come up.
“Alright, that’s all my money.” Hoseok pulls out his bare pockets as if he was carrying cash.
“We’re gonna go to Itaewon since it’s already night time.” Jin begins walking to the nearby register to check the points on the machine.
“How do you know it’s night time?” Taehyung asks.
“My phone tells time, Taehyung.” Jin remarks and Taehyung’s cheeks dust pink.
“Ah, we can get a 200 hundred point plush for each member.” Jin says and you look around his arm.
“That’s it?”
“What, did you want to buy half the shop because we have more than enough to do so.” He brags.
“No, no. We don’t need so much crap in the house.” Yoongi butts in and you all pick out a giant plush.
Walking out of the arcade, you carry your silver-blue wolf plush to the car, using both arms to hold it properly.
“Well, at least we have more pillows for the couch.” Hoseok says, carrying his deer plush.
“As if we needed any more.” Yoongi rolls his eyes and you stare at his black cat plush.
“You didn’t need to get the plush, Yoongi.” You raise a brow and he glances at his plush, turning away from you as if you’ll take it from him.
“Shut up.”
You unlock your car and stack each other’s plush on top of each other in your trunk, Hoseok doing the same with his car.
“Alright, let’s get going.” Jin claps his hands together and you all get in your cars, watching Yoongi not even giving you the chance to get in the driver’s seat.
“How’s your arm? You didn’t play anything too rough did you?” Yoongi begins driving behind Hoseok’s car that’s leading him to the restaurant.
“I couldn’t even if I wanted to.” You joke.
“Why? Did it hurt a lot? Why didn’t you say anything? Do you need your bandages changed? Call Jin and we’ll stop so he can-”
“Yoongi, relax. I’m fine.” You hold his hand and he makes a painfully worried expression, squeezing your hand softly.
“I said that because Namjoon wouldn’t let me.” You give him a smile and he glances in the rearview mirror Namjoon looking directly back at him.
“That’s good.” He looks away and you continue the car ride in silence.
Pairing: Hybrid Namjoon x Reader, Occasional OT7 x Reader, Occasional character x character ✨
Warnings: Angst
Word count: 3k
“I won’t go out, then.” You pout to Yoongi, to which he doesn’t believe but he’ll drop the topic for now.
Your eyes land on a strand of Namjoon’s hair that’s sticking up from his pillow fight earlier with Jin.
“Are you going to do anything tomorrow?” Jungkook asks Namjoon, his eyes glancing at you coming over and fixing Namjoon’s hair.
He jumps at the touch, but recognizes your touch and scent.
“No, I don’t have anything to do. Why?”
“Just..asking..” He watches you brush his hair down with your fingers, petting his koala ears as well.
Namjoon suddenly shakes his head aggressively to adjust to the feeling, then goes back to looking at Jungkook.
“What did you end up doing today?” He asks the bunny.
“Huh? Oh, I… went to talk to a doctor.” He replies, tearing his eyes away from you, grooming Namjoon.
“Are you okay? Is it your heart again?”
“No, no. My heart is fine.”
You pat Namjoon’s head when you’re done and walk to the living room, taking a seat next to Hoseok.
“What was that?” Jungkook whispers even though you can probably hear anyway.
“What was what”
“The..grooming.”
“What grooming?”
“Wh- yo-” Jungkook sits straight up and blinks as if someone just spilled lipstick in his valentino white bag.
He reaches for Namjoon’s head to show him an example but Namjoon’s head flinches away, startling Jungkook.
He blinks again, trying to comprehend what just happened.
“Did- did you just flinch?” Jungkook asks, afraid of the answer.
“Well, yeah. You just went straight for it, it scared me.”
“You’ve never flinched from me.”
Namjoon stares at him and thinks back.
“Oh, I haven’t, now that I think about it..”
“Then why did you do it now?”
Namjoon pauses, thinking back to what happened the other day.
No one has put him in such a low mental state like Jungkook did, not since you left the hospital and he didn’t know why you left.
Maybe that’s why he felt so harsh about you but he didn’t remember why.
“I don’t trust you.” He suddenly says and Jungkook’s eyes widen, his bunny ears flat against his head.
“What?You don’t trust me?” He stands up and you look at them.
“Yeah.”
“You don’t have the right to not trust me.”
Namjoon scoffs.
“Excuse me?”
“You heard me. I never gave you any reason to distrust me.”
“Really, what about the time you made me have a severe panic attack in front of everyone? I haven’t had one of those since No-(Y/n) left the hospital. Or when you left me in the shelter even though you said you wouldn’t go anywhere without me? Or the reason for (Y/n)’s injury?”
“Don’t pin the shelter part on me, you chose to leave me here.”
“And yet, before that, you said you wouldn’t stay without me.”
“That still doesn’t excuse the fact that you should be distrusting me. Only I get to distrust you because of what you did.” Jungkook gets closer to him and you sit up in case it gets too far.
“Ineversaid you couldn’t lose trust in me. Go for it.” He shrugs and goes back to your phone which you let him borrow.
“You know, it’s unfair that you didn’t remember her and you didn’t trust her, but now that you do remember her, you trust her now despite the fact that she left you alone in that hospital. How does that make any sense?”
Namjoon tosses your phone on the counter aggressively and stands, getting in Jungkook’s face.
You hold your hand against Hoseok’s chest, who is ready to break up the fight.
“The only difference between you and her, is that she didn’t mean to leave me in that hospital and tried to keep me safe whilst she stayed. Meanwhile, you took everything I did for you as a threat, and you didn’t bother to try and keep me safe.” Namjoon laces his words with poison and watches as Jungkook’s eyes begin to water, watching Namjoon walk away to the backyard.
Yoongi stares at you and you keep your lip between your teeth, unsure of what move to make next.
If you go to Namjoon, Jungkook will begin to think you only care for him. If you go to Jungkook, Namjoon will begin to think you agree with Jungkook’s words.
Hoseok walks up to Jungkook and Yoongi walks to you, giving you a soft peck on your forehead.
“We got it.” He walks outside where Namjoon is sitting on a bench, his head in his hands.
“Hm.” Yoongi catches his attention, his head lifting from his hands.
“You two were inseparable when we met you. What happened?” Yoongi takes his spot on the swinging bench and Namjoon sighs.
“His persistence for getting out of that shelter..”
“Well, I don’t think anyone would want to stay for long.”
“Obviously not. But it was just, everyday. ‘When are we leaving again? Do you think they’ll keep us? What about Noona? Will Noona keep us?’ He kept asking things I had no answers to, and when he got approved, I obviously didn’t know what would come next. I didn’t want to leave him, but I knew one day he wouldn’t wait for me any longer.” He sighs again and leans back, staring at the sky now turning dark.
“I knew what they would have done to him had I not been there to take care of him.”
“What do you mean?”
Namjoon rolls his eyes.
“He’s young, innocent, attractive, and a bunny hybrid. That should speak for itself.” He crosses his arms and Yoongi looks through the window to see Hoseok talking to Jungkook.
“I don’t trust him because I hadn’t been in a mental state like that in so long, and he’s the last person that I thought would put me in that space again. Noon- (Y/N)!!” He shouts exasperatedly and you burst through the door, startling everyone.
“Are you okay?!”
“I-I’m fine, sorry. I was correcting myself and I got upset.” He rubs his neck and you take a deep breath, walking back inside.
“I was going to say, that (Y/n) had a different reaction because when we were younger, I would get scared and she would distract me from it. I began to..trust her again because she’s someone who took care of me and earned my respect. Of course, regardless if I remembered her or not, I don’t agree with a few things she’s said to me or done, but she’s proving to me I can trust her. And the more time I spend with her, the more she reminds me of her younger self.”
Yoongi keeps an eye on Namjoon’s reactions when you pass by the window, slight admiration in his eyes.
“What was she like?” He asks and Namjoon looks back at him.
“Hm?”
“When she was with you.”
“Oh, she was like how she is now, just less knowledgeable, more immature, yet she grew up too soon..”
“She still wanted to be a kid when she had the chance.”
“Something like that. I remember she would play with me when we were on our own, she would make me stay as quiet as possible but try to let me have fun. One time, they gave me a plate of tangerines and they had said that if I didn’t eat them in 5 minutes, they’d test me on my appetite. I obviously wasn’t able to do that at that age, so, once they left, she took them from me and ate them all, shoving four at a time in her mouth and gave me a piece so that when they came back, it’d look like I ate them all.” He smiles at the memory and Yoongi chuckles.
“When she would come back from being tested, she would have prick holes and red skin from all the needles and I would hug her, not knowing how much pain she was in. She would always hold me whenever I got tested once a month for my health because I was in pain and I wouldn’t be in pain anymore due to her hugs. So, I thought that would help her as well.” Namjoon’s smile becomes a sad frown.
“Whenever they would try to test me for something other than my health, she would bare her fangs in such a terrifying way, her claws would come out in the size of an adult wolf and her eyes would be so red from the strain of intimidating them. They knew not to mess with her when she got like that, she put one of the new doctors in the hospital when he pushed past her to grab me.” He rubs his arms and Yoongi’s eyes become as wide as saucers.
“Did he touch you?”
“Barely even got to look at me until she attacked him. She taught me to cover my eyes and ears whenever they would come into the room in case it got to that point. I haven’t seen her gone feral since the day before she left.” He takes a deep breath and Yoongi looks at his hands.
“What did she call you, when she was there?”
Namjoon’s ears turn red.
“Namjoon. Just Namjoon.”
“Your face says otherwise.”
“She..she would call me Joon, Joonie, Namu, Nam, Monie, prince, her little koala..” Namjoon’s face turns redder and his hands creep higher up his face at every name.
“Prince?”
“S-she would call me special and only a prince should be so taken care of, and a prince should get everything he wants in the outside world.”
“So, you were spoiled?”
“I was not!”
“Sure you weren’t, prince.” Yoongi pokes fun at him and Namjoon’s face is so red he could be mistaken for a fresh, fully grown tomato.
“Anyway, I didn’t get tested often after she left. I would threaten that she would find out and come back and they would laugh it off, not knowing that was exactly what happened. Ididn’t even know. She would always play with me even though she was all bruised and abused, never letting her pain show. She had a huge bruise on her back when they removed her tail, but I didn’t even know what they had done because she said it was broken and they were going to give her a new one. She couldn’t even stand that day without nearly falling over, she couldn’t sit down so I would play with her laying down.” Namjoon’s voice cracks and he clears his throat. Yoongi’s brows furrowed in worry.
“She got her ears removed, I think some time before she left. But I didn’t notice because she would always wear a hat around that time, so I thought she was cold in the room.” He shrugs and drags a rough hand over his mouth towards his chin, crossing his hands again.
“Seeing her like this, I’m happy she made it out alive and healthy. But I wish I would have recognized her sooner, she’s gone through enough because of me and she went through even more when we met because of me again.”
“Did you love her?” Yoongi asks. The question stuns Namjoon into silence for a few minutes.
“She was the only one who gave me a chance, even when she didn’t know who I was, twice. I fell in love with the idea of her because I didn’t even know if she would make it out alive from that hospital..” Namjoon sniffles.
“She took so much from herself, only to give it to someone so ungrateful.” Namjoon hiccups and wipes his face when a tear rolls down.
“I loved her so much when we were younger, and it kills me knowing I didn’t bother looking for her after I got out because I thought she was either dead, or just left me behind, or took too long to find me.”
“There were so many misunderstandings I think about every day, and yet when I see her trying her hardest to take care of me like back then, to give me what I need and what I want, regardless of the misunderstandings and past, it reminds me of how much I love her..” His cheeks are wet with tears and Yoongi doesn’t move.
“Because no matter how much time, trauma, and pain has passed, she’s still that little girl that took care of me with her whole being, hybrid or not.”
“Alright boys, call off because we’re going to the arcade.” You put your hands on your hips in front of everyone in the living room.
They look you up and down, dressed in a tan comfy sweater with a white collared shirt under and a (f/c) skirt, your (f/c) converse to match.
“W-we are?” Jimin asks, not used to seeing you in a skirt.
“Yes, we are.” You walk past him and shake Yoongi awake, everyone staring at your skirt from behind.
Except Namjoon and Jungkook.
But a little bit of Namjoon.
“Yoongi, stop pretending to be asleep.” You crawl over him and he peeks, jumping when he sees your exposed legs.
“You aren’t going anywhere with that skirt.”
“Why not? You like it when I wear skirts.” You sit on his chest and he slides his hands up your thighs and up your skirt, grabbing a handful of your ass.
“I do, so unless you want me to eat you in front of everyone, I suggest you change.” His eyes turn a dark shade of yellow, his fangs coming out.
“Now, now.” Hoseok carries you off Yoongi like a kitten, his hands under your armpits.
You hang limply and Taehyung’s face finds its way under your skirt, licking a stripe on the exposed skin of your ass by your underwear.
You scream and kick your legs forward, curling your knees up to your chest.
In the process, your skirt flips up and both Jimin and Namjoon’s face turn red seeing your underwear.
“Taehyung!” Jin swats the bear away who’s cackling maniacally as he runs away from Jin’s hands.
Hoseok carries you bridal style while holding the bottom of your skirt against your skin to keep the prying eyes away.
Jungkook watches as Yoongi growls at Hoseok for pulling you away from him.
“Quit being horny, let’s go to the arcade.” He taps Yoongi’s forehead away from you and you giggle as Yoongi hisses when Hoseok carries you away.
“You tease.” You kiss Hoseok’s cheek and he glances at you.
“Don’t say that or else I’llbe the one to fuck you.” He threatens, making you giggle at his response.
“I wanna lick Noona, too!” Jimin jumps up from his seat and Jin hugs his face to silence the cat, pushing Jimin’s face between his chest.
“Anyway, let’s get dressed for today.” Jin cocks his head to the ones on the couch in the direction of their bedrooms.
They all leave to get dressed and Jungkook bumps into Namjoon on the way, startling him.
Namjoon walks into his own room and Jungkook walks into yours, not saying a word to each other.
You watch Hoseok undress in his room, taking off his shirt and showing his toned skin.
“You’ve been earning his trust, (Y/n).” He smiles as he takes off his pants, looking for other clothing in just his boxers.
“Only a little.” You smile and lay down on your side, your legs curling up to cover your underwear.
“You say a little, but he’s been playing with Jin lately.”
“That has nothing to do with me, Hobi.”
“He’s only getting comfortable because he’s learning to trust you.” He raises a brow as he puts on some baggy pants with pockets and belts on the sides.
“Yeah, I guess.” You play with his sun shaped pillow, hugging it close to your chest.
“He has been arguing with Jungkook a lot more, though.”
“I know..”
“Hey, maybe this will be good for them. Getting to have fun with us like the childhood we never had.” He slips on a white shirt and a baggy tan sweater, smiling at you when his head pops out of it.
You hum with amusement, his hair now all messy. You stand up and fix it for him.
“Maybe.”
“I wanna ride with Noona!” Jimin starts walking towards your car until Jin holds his hand.
“No, we do this rock paper scissors.”
“Oldest ones first. Whoever pulls the same is the riding buddy.” You put your hands and start.
Both you and Yoongi pull rock and both Jin and Hoseok pull paper.
“Okay, you guys next. Whoever wins comes with us.” You step aside and the maknaes begin.
Namjoon and Taehyung pull scissors as Jungkook and Jimin pull paper.
The oldest members glance at you quickly and act like they didn’t when you glance back.
“Well, let’s get going.”
Everyone gets into their picked cars but Yoongi gets in the driver’s seat before you can, making you scoff in disbelief.
“Quit driving, you’re still injured.”
“I drive with my left.”
“Well, now you’re not driving at all.” He says smugly and you stare him down as you make your way to the passengers seat.
“You have your bracelet, right?” You ask Namjoon and he freezes.
“No, I forgot it…” He plays with his fingers and you get out of the car, walking to Hoseok’s car, waving him down.
He rolls down his window and you lean in.
“Jungkook, do you have your bracelet?”
His bunny ears shoot up so fast and hit the ceiling of the car with a thump.
“N-no..”
You nod and walk back inside, going up to your room and taking the bracelets off your bed, then walk back to the cars.
You stop when you see Namjoon getting out of the car.
“Where are you going?” You ask.
“I-I had to use the bathroom.” He stutters and you step to the side until he grabs your sweater subtly.
“Can you come?” He whispers and you look up at him, his eyes pleading.
“Okay.” You walk back inside and he follows. He pulls you to your bedroom bathroom and shuts the door, locking it.
“Um-”
“Don’t. Just..give me a second.” He makes you stand flush against the wall and he stands flush with the sink, staring at you.
You blink and open your mouth, but he steps closer to you and digs his nose in your neck, making you go stiff.
“You look pretty, you smell nice, too..” He whispers, his fingers digging into your back as he holds you close.
You shiver as he drags his nose up your neck and chuckles, his breath hitting your skin.
“Sorry, I couldn’t stand being in that car with you when you smell like this…”
“N-Namjoon..”
He takes a big inhale as he detaches himself from your neck, keeping his hands to himself. He clears his throat.
“I can see why they’re usually all over you..” He whispers and your cheeks dust pink.
“T-Thanks..” You look away from his dark eyes and he unlocks the door, letting you leave first.
When you both get to the car, Taehyung raises a brow at you in the mirror when he smells you.
Yoongi doesn’t think about it and begins driving to the arcade, leading Hoseok.
Summary: After helping out a koala and bunny hybrid, your bring them home with your other hybrids to adjust. But a certain koala doesn’t seem tho get the concept of being cared for without a catch. Having your own set of secrets, it already proves difficult to gain their trust and getting them to stay with you at the same time. Your hybrids already know everything about you and are willing to sacrifice whatever it takes to keep you safe.
Genre/Au’s: Rom-Com, fluff with bits of angst - Coworkers!AU; enemies to lovers; Journalist!AU
Paring: RM x Reader
Words count:4.629
Rating:18+
Warnings: Cursing; Mentions of a car accident.
Tigering: Mentions of blood; Mentions of surgery; Mentions of a bad fracture.
Synopsis: After graduating your dream was to become a journalist and work to one of the biggest magazines in the country. But that pretty dream does not translate perfectly to reality. The magazine is on verge of bankruptcy, great journalists are moving the rival magazines and not being replaced, your boss is a jerk who doesn’t even know your name. Fate seems to be toying you around to its own pleasure, can you take control of your life and achieve your dreams, or you are going to be carried away by fate’s plans?
Author note: This fanfic follows the world of the Brazilian production Procura-se um marido series. I do not own the series or original content.
You stare at the crack in the wall behind Julia’s desk while playing with a paperclip. Why are Fridays always endless? Looks like the closer the weekend gets, the less the clock works. And you can’t wait to get rid of the claustrophobic feeling that dominates you. It is almost three in the afternoon, and you still haven’t turned in the zodiac. Last night, you had barely managed to stop sobbing as you told the recent events between you and Namjoon to Sabrina, let alone make that hateful work.
You even thought that Namjoon would hang you as soon as he found out you still hadn’t sent the zodiac yet, and there are only two hours left until the end of the expedient, but he doesn’t seem to have realized it. In the few times you worked up the courage to spy on him, he seemed distant and distracted.
And there you were, just as distracted as he, staring at nothing, a text file open and still blank. Ella left her desk and came to sit on the edge of yours. She starts questioning you about the day before.
“I wasn’t feeling well,” You explain weakly. “Namjoon accompanied me. We live close by.”
“If you weren’t well, why didn’t he take you to a hospital?” She arches her delicate eyebrows.
“It was just a passing discomfort.“
"Hm, I know.”
“Ella, if you take a good look at the way Namjoon treats me, you’ll realize that he hates me.”
She laughs. “Oh, Y/n, you’re so naive…”
You blushed, annoyed. You are tired of being treated like a child by everyone. But before you could take out your frustration on Ella, your phone rings.
“Y/n, hi. It’s Jessy. How are you, honey?”
“Oh… H-hi.” You look at Namjoon’s office. He is engrossed in something in the wall. You cast a quick glance at Ella and mutter through your lips, covering the mouthpiece of the phone: “It’s my grandmother.”
She raises an eyebrow but leaves you alone and goes mind her own business.
“Can we have lunch on Tuesday?” Jessy asked.
Oh my God. You shouldn’t be seen with Jessy, especially now that Hani had moved over to her side. Namjoon would know about your secret work in a microsecond. Although maybe that wouldn’t be bad. You mean, maybe Jessy might want to offer you a real job, one that pays the bills and makes you happy.
“We received very good feedback from your first article, and that pleased the owners,” she says excitedly. "I want to make you an irrefutable offer! I know you will be very pleased. I call letting you know which restaurant we meet. Until later.”
You stare at your phone like it was a glittering gem. A proposal. One where you can finally become the journalist you have always dreamed of being. And considering recent events, it wouldn’t be a bad thing to stay away from Namjoon. You don’t want to be around when Alexia walks back down the magazine. Worse still, when Delilah shows up there, telling everyone that it was because of me that she and her beloved Namjoon ended up together.
You phone rings again. You don’t recognize the number.
“Hello?”
“MS. Y/l/n?” asks the unfamiliar male voice.
“It is me.”
“This is Lieutenant Samuel. I found your contact in the docs of your brother.”
“Oh my God.” You take a deep breath. “What did Hoseok do now?”
“I’m sorry, miss. He had an accident. Was brought to the hospital and…“
Then everything becomes a meaningless hum. The room is blurred, the beating of your heart drowns out all the sounds around you. The phone falls off your hand. Someone starts screaming. And after many hands try to grab you. You realize it is you. Colored spots dance on your eyes. Your brother’s face, with its smirk, flicker between them.
"She’s turning gray. I think you’re going to faint!” Someone says.
“Then don’t just stand there, do something!”
“Y/n!” Namjoon’s voice calls. “What’s it? Y/n, are you okay?” You think you are being shaken. “What happened? Did anyone see what happened?”
“I don’t know, Namjoon. She was on the phone, then she started screaming.“
"What phone… Hello? Who…? Oh my God. How is he? At where? Everything is fine, thanks for letting me know, Lieutenant.”
You brother is in the hospital. You brother has been in an accident. Is unconscious in an operating room. They don’t know the extent of the injuries. You should be prepared, the lieutenant warned.
“I think she’s in shock!”
“Y/n, my angel, can you hear me? Blink if you’re understanding.”
With some effort, you blink.
Someone strokes your cheek.
“Don’t Cry. Please, my angel, don’t be like this. Hoseok will be fine. Are you listening to me? Your brother is undergoing surgery now, he will be fine. You’ll get out of this… Someone bring some water. And get the fuck off her!”
“Wouldn’t it be better to call a doctor?” someone suggests.
“I’ve heard that slapping someone in shock will do the trick.“
"Ella, shut up!” yells Namjoon, but his voice turns sweet when, squeezing you numb hand, he says, “I’ll take you home.”
That works better than Ella’s slap would have.
“N-no!“ You manage to mutter, blinking back the veil of tears that cover you blind. "I want to see Hoseok. I need to see my brother. I need to stay with him and…”
Oh my God, you can’t lose him!
“Hey! Calm.” Namjoon is drawing circles on you shoulder. “I’ll take you. Here, drinks some water. You are very pale.”
Drawing strength from the calm that Namjoon deliberately offers you, you manage to wrap your fingers in the plastic cup he is holding and take a few sips. The water tastes bitter.
“No, don’t cry.” Strong arms wrap around you, sweet lips touch your forehead. “Please, Y/n. Don’t lose hope. Your brother will want to see you well when he recovers.”
You lift your head and finally manage to see something. The face next to yours is writhing in anguish.
“Will he?” You mutter in a thin voice.
“Of course, he will! Hoseok is young and strong, and if he has half of your stubbornness, won’t let a simple accident finish him off.”
You nod, eyes locked with his. “He is stubborn. Enough,” you say.
"You see!” A slow caress, which starts at your temple and ends on your chin, takes away some of the chill that makes you shiver. “Have faith, my angel.”
You nod once more, sniffling and wiping your face with the back of your hands. You square your shoulders, trying to look strong. Inside you are torn apart.
“That’s the brave girl I know. Think you can stand?“
You can’t, but you do, thanks to Namjoon, who supports most of your weight as he puta an arm around your waist. He takes you to the garage and settle you in the passenger seat of your car. Namjoon starts and has a difficult time getting the car to move. Half numb, you explain the vehicle’s quirks and keeps quiet throughout the journey.
You are more in control when you entered the hospital, mainly because Namjoon hugs you again. The aseptic and white environment makes you nervous and, when you reached the third floor and enter the crowded waiting room, you see Lorena, the beautiful woman, always impeccably groomed, with disheveled wavy redhead and heart-shaped face, with puffy eyes from crying so much then, all your despair comes back, and you just don’t fall because Namjoon is still supporting you.
"Oh, Y/n!” She cries and hugs you. You falter and Namjoon hold you two up. “Hoseok… He… Oh, my God!”
“What happened?” You ask, being led to one of the armchairs.
Namjoon settles you next to Lorena, squeezing your shoulder in a gesture of comforting and hopeful.
“Hoseok was in his car, waiting for the light to open,” she said, torn apart. “A bus coming behind could not stop. The car was launched forward and stopped on the avenue just as a van was crossing. It hit the passenger side. The car is destroyed. They brought Hoseok here unconscious, and the police officer said there was blood everywhere!” she moans, covering face with her hands.
You swallow hard.
“He had an exposed fracture in one of his legs,” she goes on. “They don’t know about internal damage. That’s all I know so far.”
“Someone has to tell us something,” You object, half rising to your feet staggering, but Namjoon stops you.
“They will.“ And kindly makes you sit down again. ”- As soon as they have something to tell.“
You understand the logic he uses, and it makes sense. Ultimately, the lack of news should be a good sign. You look at him and nod once. Namjoon lets two fingers run down your cheek, before leaning back against the wall next to the window, crossing his arms behind his back as the other chairs are busy.
The time is slow to pass. Lorena, a few weeks pregnant, clings to a rosary and recites the prayers in a fervent whisper, eyes narrowed, as if she uses all her strength to communicate with God. Namjoon stays where he was, looking at you, supporting you and trying to keep you calm with his presence.
At one point, he walks up to reception and speaks quietly to the attendant. She nods once and reaches for the phone. a short nurse appears and goes straight to talk to Namjoon. The woman frowns upon hearing what he says and looks at you once, then nods and disappears. Instead of going back close to you, Namjoon just nods and heads for the corridor through which you had arrived. You jump out of your chair at the same
moment, going after him.
"Don’t go away, please!” - You beg in terror, reaching him before he can get to the elevators, because at that moment, you can’t bear that he will leave you. “I need you… No… don’t go away.“
Namjoon studies you face with something gleaming in his brown eyes. “I’m just going to the blood bank. Your brother must have needed a transfusion. Inventories are never high. I will try to help.” He opens his arms, kind of awkward.
You stare at him with a heart full of gratitude. “I will go too.”
“No, no! Stay here. She need’s you.” He points to the room where sister-in-law is.
Yes, Lorena needs you, but you need him.
“Will you return?” You want to know. And your voice is so small that is reminiscent of a child.
In a whisper that you could have sworn is from a man in love, he says: “I would never leave you.“ A small smile plays on his lips.
You nod and watch him leave, clinging to his promise to come back. You return to the unnervingly white waiting room and throw yourself into the chair beside Lorena, reaching out for her hand. She lifts her head, the puffy eyes, the quivering lip, the anguish stamped on every feature of his face.
"Thanks.” She sobs.
You pull her onto your shoulder and let her cry, trying to keep the tears under control. The short nurse, the one who had spoken to Namjoon earlier, appears with a tray in her hands and some plastic cups on top of it. Your heartbeat fast, in anticipation of what might come out of that woman’s mouth. However, what she says takes you by surprise.
“Your boyfriend told me what’s going on. Take this, honey.“ And she hands you a disposable cup, the kind of coffee, containing a white pill. ”-You will feel better.“
"What is it?”
“Just a muscle relaxant, don’t worry. I can’t do anything for you, lady.“ - She addresses Lorena with compassion. "Because of the pregnancy. I am really sorry. You can be sure that we will do what we can for your husband to be fine.” She hands her a glass of water.
You don’t want to take that relaxer, but the fact that Namjoon had the work of reaching out to her in an attempt to make you feel better somehow warms your heart. He wants to dope you, and that is more than any person had already done for you. You swallow the pill without any complaint.
“What am I going to do if he leaves me?” Lorena sobs when the nurse walks away.
“Hoseok will be fine, Lorena. I know he will.”
“How can you be so sure?” She lifts her head to look at your face.
“Because Namjoon said so".
“And does Namjoon have some supernatural power I don’t know about?”
“No. But he would never lie to me about something so serious.“ At the most inopportune moment, the conversation between Delilah and Namjoon in your grandmother’s house comes back to your mind.
“Are you two…?” she asks.
"Friends… most of the time,” he had replied regretfully.
Why would he feel sad about being my friend? And why didn’t he tell her that you were more than friends?
Oh wait, he did! Not exactly that you were lovers, but he said something that made it clear that somehow you are important to him.
“She's…too precious to me.”
Too precious for me.
Your eyes widen as realization washes over you.
Shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiit
What did you do?
The surgeon, in mint green hospital gown splattered with blood, walks out of the double doors pulling off the disposable cap. Namjoon still isn’t back from the blood bank. Lorena and you get up, clinging to each other.
After introducing himself as Dr. Cesar and make sure that you are Hoseok’s family members, he says: “The surgery is over, Hoseok is stable. We reconstructed the tibia. He had three fractured ribs, but there was no perforation in any internal organ. There is a concussion to the skull, so he will remain under observation. But he It is going to be okay.”
You nearly sink to the ground at the news. The wave of relief is so intense that your limbs seem to have disconnected from each other. Hoseok will be fine, exactly as Namjoon had promised. Thank God!
“Can we see him?” Lorena asks, squeezing your hand.
“As soon as he goes to his room.“
Lorena releases you and, to the surgeon’s surprise, hugs him around the waist and starts sort of laughing and crying at the same time, uttering a selection of indistinct thanks.
Half an hour later, Lorena and you are led by a middle-aged nurse through the hallway that leads to the patients’ rooms.
“He’s still a little groggy. Try not to make him anxious and talk short. It is common to become disoriented after anesthesia.”
She opens the door carefully, letting you through. Lorena takes your hand, you don’t know if to give you some support or if she is looking for support for herself, it doesn’t matter. It is good to have her by your side at that moment. There is the man you both love madly.
You enter together. The dim lights left the environment devoid of rather dreary furniture, there is only one uncomfortable-looking armchair and a metal table with two chairs, in addition to the hospital bed. But it is the man lying in bed that makes your heart stop. There are bandages all over his body: his entire left side is destroyed. The head, chin, hand, and forearm. The leg is uncovered, a tangle of metal rods protruding of the orange painted calf, forming a cage around the meat.
Hoseok moves his head on the pillow. Purple half-moons lined under his eyes.
“Hi,” he says on a weak sigh.
“Oh, Hoseok.” You approach and strokes his forehead, avoiding the bandage on his temple. “You nearly scared me to death! You better never suffer another accident. I forbid you.”
The dry lips, full of tiny cracks, stretches slightly. “If you start crying now, I’m going to throw up.“
Lorena sobs loudly. She tries valiantly to fight back tears, but she can’t. Your brother bowed his head. You walk away a little to facilitate.
“Babe…” He sighs. It is almost a prayer, and it makes you smile. Hoseok admires her for a long time, as if he is absorbing it to keep it in his heart. "Lorena, you will marry me.”
She lets out a childish giggle. “Is that a request or an order?”
Your brother frowns. “Order, I think…?”
“Oh, Hoseok!” She follows him, stopping beside the bed and leaning over to kiss him with all the care in the world.
Hoseok groans, in a mixture of pain, relief and happiness. Despite the nurse’s recommendations, Lorena and you start asking questions, and a little confused, he answers them patiently. Lorena strokes his forehead in a steady, careful rhythm as you keep your fingers around his healthy hand. At some point, he stops what he is saying and simply he stares at his girlfriend, his eyes full of tenderness and wonder.
You think that, after the scare, Hoseok has found the answers he was looking for.
“Well, you guys have a lot to talk about,” you say, heading for the door. “I’ll look for Namjoon and we’ll be back in a bit.”
“He is here?” You brother asks.
“Yes, he was the one who brought me. I’ll be right back.“
"OK.” He looks away from his bride-to-be for a second and smiles at you. One of his incisors is chipped at the tip. “Just… don’t take long.“
You go to the waiting room at the end of the hall and sits down. Ten minutes then Namjoon appears. You throw yourself on him as soon as you sew him, burying your head on his chest, and starts talking about Hoseok’s condition.
“I just came here to get you. Come!” But he takes you by the shoulders and stops.
“Before I think I should eat something.”
“Yeah, you should eat after you donated blood,” You agree.
“I meant you, Y/n,” he explains in a whisper. “You are very pale. I would be more relaxed if you would at least have a coffee… with milk. With plenty of sugar, as you like.” Then the let go of you and shove his hands in his pockets.
A half-smile tugs at your lips. You never told Namjoon that you like very sweet coffee with milk. He knows this by watching you in the kitchen
of Just-facts? That attention makes your heart pound. He is taking care of you, worried about you. Because you are too precious to him.
You finally understand that he hasn’t lied to Delilah. He would never lie about something so serious, even if in a conversation with a stranger. He is that kind of man, of few words, but he does good use of them. He might not want you to be his, as he’d made clear on Saturday, but he cares about you. It is enough for you to want him close.
“Okay, let’s eat,” you agree.
His gentle hand touches your elbow, and he guides you to the cafeteria on the second floor. The place is small and less scary, with subtle colors in the tables and chairs, and a range of colors in packages of all kinds of goodies on the wall behind the counter. Namjoon orders two cheese buns, two waters and a latte. Once you are seated at a table by the window, he pushed the plate towards you, then adds three sachets of sugar to your latte and stirs it before handing it to you.
“Namjoon, thank you. For everything. For bringing me here, for donating blood for…“
“Don’t thank me, please.” He cuts you off, shaking his head. “I didn’t do anything expecting gratitude.”
“But you’ll get it even if you don’t want to. I will never forget what you did for me.”
He flashes a shy smile. “I wish I could offer you happier memories, then. Now please eat.“
You eat. The two buns in less than two minutes. Namjoon’s phone rings as you gulp down the latte.
"What is it, Ademir? Oh… fuck, I forgot.” He looks at his watch and rubs his forehead. “No, I know. I’ll see what can be done. Nothing runs yet. I’ll call you shortly.” And hangs up.
“Problems?”
“No… it’s just… a hole in the week’s issue.“ He averts his eyes, looking embarrassed, and that’s what gives you the hint.
Your zodiac.
“Oh, damn it, Namjoon! I totally forgot.” You leave the cup and reach for the bag on the back of the chair, pulling out your phone.
“Don’t worry about it now, Y/n. I’m going to fix it.“
"No! I should have handed in the zodiac by now, but… ”- there were so many things this week that I didn’t have the head to write anything. not that it is an excuse. You rummage through the bag until you find the deck. “But I do now, if you give me ten minutes.”
“What? In here?” He widens his eyes.
“I’m not leaving my brother’s side. So, I’m kind of out of options…” You look around, as if you were being watched. “Uh… don’t tell my grandmother that I will do this in a public place. She will kill me if she knows.”
He shakes his head uneasily. “Y/n, seriously, you don’t have to …”
“Yes, I do.” You interrupt him. “I’m professional. I fulfill my obligations… Sometimes with a little delay, but still. Will only take a few minutes.”
You shuffle the cards, thinking about the sign of Aries, opens the notes on your phone and starts typing. That one would definitely not be your best text, but at least you have something to present to the boss. following you keep shuffling, making your interpretations as the drawings that appear, unaware of Namjoon’s watchful gaze on you. When you finish, he looks at you with a twinkle in his eye.
“Tarot reader Liz, would you be so kind as to read my fortunes?” he asks, with a shy smile. “I tried it a few days ago, but a crazy woman didn’t allow it.“
“Don’t joke, Namjoon.”
“I am not kidding.” And from the look of his serious face, he isn’t. “I want you to read my fortune. Everyone says you’re good. I want to know how good.”
You are too grateful to refuse him anything at that moment. And he knows it. Grimacing, you hand him the cards.
“The risk is yours. I’m a charlatan. Shuffle them thinking about what you want to know.”
“Yes ma'am.” He closes his eyes as he shuffles.
“Now cut.”
He does as you ask before handing you the cards. You pick three of them.
“Look,” You begin cautiously. “I’ve never done this before, not even for Sabrina, and she’s already burned my patience to do it. So maybe what I say has nothing to do with your question. The interpretation is mine, but also yours I think.”
“Get straight to the point. What does it say?” He approaches, watching carefully the back of the cards.
You turn the cards a little apprehensively. You frown as you study the drawings. “Hmm… That’s good, I think. The mountain, the stars, and the sky,” you say, pointing to each image. “The mountain represents the challenges, and the stars are sources of light, so we can assume that the challenges will be trespassed with some ease. Heaven is…”
“There’s a dog in the card.“ He points, brow furrowed.
"I know. But it’s the card is the heaven. It symbolizes constancy, fidelity. So, your answer would be something like… the challenges will be overcome with someone very loyal by your side. Does it make any sense?”
“That’s not the reading that Liz would do.” He shows you that smile with the adorable dimples.
“Oh, is that what you want?“ You cleared your throat, folding your hands on the table. "Troubles in sight, but relax, you’ll get out of it easy, easy, with a little help from someone who is crazy about you. Is that good?”
He is serious, his eyes fixed on yours. “Much better. And thank you. I hope the cards are right. It’s good being able to count with someone in a bad moment.”
“My grandmother says cards never lie, but I’m not a real Romani, right? Can’t believe what I say.“ You gather the mess on the table and put everything back in your bag, then save the note with the zodiac and send it to Namjoon. "Done. It’s already in your mailbox. If you can, please correct it before sending it to the printer.”
“Always do this. I…” He takes a deep breath, looking down at your empty plate.
“You have to go,” You complete sadly.
"But I’ll be back,” he hurriedly, glaring at you. “As soon as everything is in order on the magazine.”
He gets up and you do the same. “Namjoon, I…”
You want to say so much to him. That you have understood that you finally understood, but he doesn’t seem too keen to talk to you about the subject. At least that’s what it looks like, as he averts his eyes and sticks his hands in his pockets. Your courage disappears.
“Thanks again,” You end up saying.
“Forget it. I really need to go to the magazine, or there won’t be time to run the edition. If you need anything, you know where to find me. I will be back later.”
He hesitates, and you get the impression he wants to go over and kiss you. But Namjoon does none of it. He just watches you for a moment and is gone. You stay watching his back until he disappears from view. You want to run after him and dump everything that is in your heart right there in a hospital corridor. Instead, like the coward that you are, you take your phone, open a new email, type just two words and sent it to him. Before you can change your mind, you press send and head for the third floor.
Ⓒ 2022 Sugarushsuga, do not copy, translate or repost.
