Summary:Sometimes distance isn’t a space between two people, but cracks and crevices that build up over time. It’s what you learned after being married to Namjoon all these years. But all it takes is a trip back home and the acknowledgement of what your relationship has become, and the realization that it might be the final puncture that would make everything else break.
A/N: No excuse, just Instagram Namjoon and being husband material. But shoutout to my philosophy professor whose lectures on love and relationships have stuck with me (even if I never actually read Max Scheler’s work), and credits to our brilliant, loveable Namjoon whose words are too beautiful not to write about. This was supposed to be part of a ‘Coming Home: Short Story Collection’ inspired by the guys going home for the holidays but… the holidays passed, my hands slipped, and this happened. I still hope you enjoy it, though!
BTS Reaction to your pregnancy test finally coming back positive.
Warning: Vomit (Morning sickness)
Namjoon
He waits anxiously in the living room as you take the test, wringing his hands.
When you don’t come out after 15 minutes he starts to worry and goes to find you
You’re sobbing on the floor when he walks in
Immediately he is at your side telling you it’ll be okay you can try again
You’re crying too hard to tell him, so you hand him the test and he freezes his soothing motions
Tears well in his eyes as you watch for his reaction
Suddenly you’re being lifted off the floor and carried towards your bedroom he lays you down carefully, but he doesn’t let go.
His hands trail down your sides and lift the hem of your shirt.
He leans down and presses hundreds of kisses into your tummy as you giggle, trying to wriggle away from your husband’s affectionate assaults
Seokjin
You find out while he is on tour
There’s only a month left so you don’t tell him
He would only want to fly home immediately and there’s nothing for him to do yet
Hiding from him is torture when he checks in everyday and all you want is to spill the secret and see the joy on his face of finally…
But you know it’ll be worth it
He comes home to string flower petals leading to your closed bedroom door
He opens it to find a tray of goodies laying out for him and a jewellery box with a note that says ‘find me waiting in the bathroom’
He doesn’t open the box too eager to see you after so long he takes the box and heads straight for you
He is more than confused to find you sat on the closed toilet lid in a fluffy bathrobe instead of in a bubble bath like he was usually greeted with
You roll your eyes and gesture to the unopened box he still looks very confused at the little white stick displayed under new cufflinks that read “daddy”
Eventually you just stand letting the robe fall to display your rounding belly.
The shock finally hits him, and he sweeps you into his arms, cradling you close with one arm, the other hand on your stomach.
Yoongi
You are out shopping with your little boy
Daddies black card burning a hole in your pocket as you treat the birthday boy
You’d just finished lunch when the overwhelming urge to vomit hit
The next three days you struggled to keep anything down
Yoongi eventually convinces you to go to the hospital even though you think he’s being a bit dramatic for a stomach bug.
The news you are six weeks pregnant hits you like a truck after what the doctors told you last time
It’s one of the few times Yoongi lets you see him cry off stage.
Hoseok
It’s a joke when he says “maybe you’re pregnant” after developing a weird craving for spray cheese on salt and vinegar crisps
This wasn’t even that weird
You laughed
It’s not exactly out of character for you to try weird food combos
Except spray cheese is disgusting
You still feel a little silly when you go out to buy the test
Lo and behold the little plus mark appears and you are left in shock
Fully on autopilot you walk into your kitchen test in hand
Hobi looks up confused, glancing at your outstretched hands and makes one of those noises only he can
He sweeps you off your feet and dances you around the kitchen pulling you out of your shellshock.
Jimin
You’d never seen someone so excited yet so close to an obvious breakdown
There are 30 swatches of paint on the wall of the spare room by the end of the week
Trying to remind him that if there is still 32 weeks to go does not slow down the process
He enlists the boys while they have time off because he is worried he won’t be around to help as much when their schedules pick up again
Every detail is run by you before it’s placed in the nursery
And he has a baby shower party planned long before your second scan.
Taehyung
The moment the at home test comes back positive Tae has booked you in for a hospital scan
You sit in the private hospital room twitching as you wait for the ultrasound technician to come in
Taehyung squeezes your hands reassuring you after so many negatives and false starts
This time feels different though
Eventually the doctor comes in and you lie back ignoring the discomfort that comes with a transvaginal ultrasound
It was early on and you needed to be sure
The doctor’s brows furrow and you steal your nerves for the news that it was another false alarm
“Are you prepared for the possibility of multiple births?”
Taehyung can’t contain his excitement head whipping to look at your pale complexion
The doctor doesn’t get to say triplets before you’ve blacked out
You thought you were around 12 weeks and starting to show
Nope! Six weeks and very bloated
Jungkook
Five nights into your private luxury yacht honeymoon you are vomiting over the side of the rails while your very confused half naked husband watches on
You’re taken to the doctor at the next port
You laugh when he suggests pregnancy you’ve only been off birth control for a month now
Everyone said it would take forever and you’d already waited for so long
Turns out the universe just didn’t want you living in sin
They did several tests
Each positive
You do wish the little bean could have waited to make you sick when you weren’t living on a boat for a month
You cut the trip short
But JK already had you rebooked for six months after the due date for your first family holiday
➬ Summary | When your countdown appeared on your wrist right on the morning of your eighteenth birthday, you had thought that perhaps the universe was on your side, especially since the final seconds were already ticking so soon. You just never expected to have your first meeting with your soulmate to be the day when you had to let him go. But hope was not lost when you still found love without the bond, and Jungkook showed you that it was possible to find happiness beyond the system that was written for you. Except that the universe doesn’t seem to have enough of its game, when your past sacrifice comes back hitting you straight in the face, just when you had believed that you had written off the perfect ending to your bittersweet tale.
↳ Pairings | Jungkook x reader / Namjoon x reader
↳ Genre | Soulmate!au, Second Chances!au, Angst, Eventual Smut
There is nothing that Namjoon despises more than waking up to a warm morning with vicious throbbing happening inside his head.
The ache feels so potent that he can hear the sound of each throb echoing against his temple. He can even feel it all the way to his toes, feel how the world seems to move with it even when he is still lying in bed, unmoving. The kind of feeling that is completely unwelcome that he dreads opening his eyes.
He may not have always been a morning person, but Namjoon isn’t someone who would find himself in this predicament during a regular weekday, jeopardising what should have been a normally productive day for him. For years, Namjoon has maintained an image of himself where he is in complete control of his own self and need, always knows how to keep his composure in any given situation possible.
And yet, for the first time, he finds himself breaking all the rules and habits that he has created for himself. He can feel that contentment and control slipping out of his fingers only because he gave in to his sorrow. Even his body feels as if it is no longer his own, when every move he makes becomes a struggle and whatever he does only escalates it further.
Fucking hangover.
The entire room seems to tilt over whenever he tries to get up, while the spinning still doesn’t stop even when he closes his eyes to put everything to a halt, just like how he feels his world tilting and spinning in all directions. And it has been this way ever since the night he saw you at Bovine.
When his headache becomes too much, Namjoon gives up on trying and falls back on the bed. So far, his memory is a bit fuzzy and unclear. But as the pulsing headache slowly becomes numb, and just when he is not forcing himself to remember, they simply return to him, random bits and pieces of what had happened—starting from the night before to all day yesterday and then ending on the events unfolding just last night—come flooding back to him.
He remembers coming home late from the studio two nights ago, pissed at himself and feeling incredibly frustrated after his encounter with Jungkook that he decided to grab a bottle of liquor to soothe his uneasiness and wash down the aggravation that followed him home. Things didn’t turn better the next day, when he heard nothing from Jungkook and after he found out that his friend didn’t even make it to work.
Feeling lost, and distraught, thinking that Jungkook might have decided to spend the day with you to salvage and find some reassurance in his relationship with you, Namjoon spent the entire day being holed up inside his home, wallowing in his misery with the collection of liquors that he had kept in his home. He must have passed out or fallen asleep at some point because the next thing he realised, he had lost an entire day as it went past him. It was a miracle that he didn’t poison himself with all that alcohol, though he did remember stopping once in a while and the short naps he had in between helped him sober up each time. And yet even as time went by, even after all the effort that he had done to wash everything away with those liquors, the unsettling feeling inside his chest still lingered, as if it had been rooted so deeply inside him ever since the moment he had the talk with Jungkook.
It was sometime around sundown when he was awakened from another nap by the quick call that his assistant made to him from the lobby, notifying him about a guest who had come asking for him. The nap did so little to sober him up, and yet he made it to reach the front door, even with a few struggles as he tried not to stumble or fall over the coffee table on his way there.
The urgency of the phone call and how his assistant had stressed that he needed to hurry made him think that perhaps there was an emergency, something so urgent that he needed to deal with that nobody else could. He clearly was not expecting to find that the surprise guest that his assistant had sent to his door would be you.
It had taken him quite some time to process what he was seeing. At first, he had thought that he was dreaming when he saw you standing right outside of his home not too long after he was mulling over his situation with you. But then you charged at him, shoving him in anger and the pain he felt in his chest was enough to let him know that it was real. And he took every single thing you were throwing at him—every punch you gave to his chest and every word you screamed at him—so willingly. Because even in his haze, he still knew that he was responsible for everything that was happening.
That he was the reason why you were here.
And then you broke down right in front of him, and he nearly fell down with you when seeing you in that state had made him feel weak. Even now, as he is struggling to recover from his hangover, the dread that he felt from that moment still lingers inside him.
Once he feels steady enough to sit up, Namjoon leans back against the headrest, rubbing his palm across his bare chest as he can still feel the ghost of your touch that he had gotten from the moment you pushed him away and the fading warmth that he felt when he took you in his arms. The pain that you had inflicted on him was nothing compared to what he is feeling inside, though he knows now that he was also far too numb to feel anything last night compared to how raw he is feeling everything now.
But does he have a right to complain when he knows that you might be feeling more pain after what had happened? When what you had experienced had been too unbearable for you to deal with that not even his touch or his embrace had been enough to fix you.
That was why he had accepted everything that you gave him. Because he understood. And he took you in his arms because he understood how much you needed someone to hold you up and keep you from falling. Even if he couldn’t erase your pain, he knew that he had to offer you what he could give you then.
Although it doesn’t exactly justify what he did next.
It is the feeling of rage and disappointment that he has in himself that forces him to get up and leave his bed. He wastes no time and quickly freshens up, getting himself ready to face the repercussions as he marches out of his bedroom with the constant throbbing in his head accompanying every step he makes.
As he trots down his empty and silent home to reach the kitchen, Namjoon’s eyes linger on the locked door of the guest bedroom, the only other room in his penthouse that has rarely been used. Knowing what is waiting from the other side of the bedroom door gives him a sense of longing, even if he knows that he doesn’t deserve to even hope that something good may happen. Looking away from the room, his gaze falls on the foyer instead, right at the corner where he held you tight last night in his arms, holding you as an anchor that kept you from falling apart.
When he closes his eyes, he can still sense everything from that moment. Your warmth, the scent of your shampoo, the way you fit perfectly in his arms and how right it felt when you laid your head on his shoulder. That moment had been short, and yet it was still enough to make him feel complete. He felt as if his soul was awakened then, as if there had been a huge hole inside him that he kept carrying with him for years and you had managed to fill it so easily just by falling into his arms.
He had welcomed that feeling, just as he had welcomed his punishment from you. And he still remembers promising himself not to let you go, that he would always hold you up the same way, that he would never take any of it for granted just as long as he could keep you in his arms for as long as he could.
If only he didn’t royally fuck up right after, and let every chance of making it happen to slip away from his hands almost too soon.
Tormented by his guilt, Namjoon becomes determined to make things right. But first, he needs to make sure that he would do it while sober and that he would do everything the right way. While he has the coffee brewing on the kitchen counter, he picks up the phone and contacts the staff to take that first step of redeeming himself.
“Yes, sir?”
Namjoon clears his throat and keeps his voice low when he responds to his assistant. “Can you have the cook send out a complete breakfast set to my loft, please?”
“Anything specific, sir?”
Thinking and talking only worsen the ache lingering in his head. Closing his eyes, he presses his fingers on the bridge of his nose to try and stop his headache from rapidly increasing. “Nothing—just get me today’s special and some fresh fruit,” he says before quickly adding, “Make that two sets of everything.”
A movement catches his attention just as he ends the phone call, and he looks over to the guest bedroom and finds you standing in the doorway, looking like a deer caught in a headlight with your eyes looking around warily and your fingers fidgeting, as if you need to hold onto something to stop yourself from falling down again.
But what has his chest grow tight is the sight of you wearing his t-shirt, how it seems to be hanging loose on your body and its hem falling on your thighs. And he cannot deny how good it makes him feel to see you wearing something of his. The possessiveness that is building up inside him is driving him crazy, even more than how alcohol had driven his sanity to nothing but an intangible mess when he was supposed to be in control, even if it was only to offer support when you had most needed one.
His heartbeat starts pacing rapidly as he looks at your face and catches your eyes looking back at him, and more images from last night come rushing back to him. Not only for the comfortable warmth that he felt when he was holding you, but also for the cold realisation of how hurtful his actions had been to you last night.
“Perhaps it is a good thing that he is gone. Have you forgotten? You were supposed to be mine. Always have been.”
The dick comment that came out of his mouth makes him wince when he remembers ever voicing it out loud. He should have been consoling you instead of being a jackass about it and acted as if he was celebrating while you were in pain.
Namjoon would never be able to forget your reaction that came right after he said those things to you—the crestfallen look that took up your entire face, the pain in your eyes that became clear to him when they widened in shock after hearing his words, and how you pulled back so quickly, leaving Namjoon feeling mesmerised and too stunned to notice what you were about to do until it was too late. He didn’t realise what was happening until your palm landed right on his cheek and the sound of the loud slap you had landed on his face echoed through the foyer. He didn’t realise what had happened until his skin stung and the horrified gasp you made snapped him out of his shock.
Just as he recounts that very moment, his hand comes up to his cheek, touching the numbing pain on his skin. He is not entirely sure which one hurts the most—the slap of your palm that seems to linger or the constricting pain inside his chest that keeps rising and building when he tried to imagine what you were feeling then. But then everything comes to a halt once he looks at you again, the sight of you being engulfed in his oversized shirt and the knowledge that you had slept on his bed seems to calm his restless soul.
You clear your throat, looking flustered as you avoid his gaze while you remain standing there. “I think I should go…,” you murmur softly with a hoarse voice. “I know that I’ve overstayed my welcome. I shouldn’t have stayed anyway.”
“I was the one who offered. I couldn’t let you leave in the state that you were in last night,” Namjoon quickly says, wincing when he remembers how that night had ended. How right after you slapped him and while he was stunned into silence, you had somehow realised that he had been drunk when he opened the door for you, and how it pushed you to go around his kitchen and living room to find the missing bottle of liquor that he had left behind. His chest tightens when he recalls how you had then grabbed the bottle and started drinking your pain away, and how he couldn’t stop himself when—
Clearing his throat, Namjoon shakes the thoughts away and forces a smile. “And I don’t believe you are ready to go either. Why don’t you stay a bit longer and take your time until you settle down? At least stay for coffee and join me for breakfast. Maybe we can start all over and then later on, if you’d let me, I can lend my ear to listen or my shoulder to cry on if you want to.”
You open your mouth—ready to refuse him, no doubt—but stop yourself when you look conflicted. Knowing that you are at least considering it, Namjoon jumps at the chance and asks again,
“Please. It’s the least that I could do,” he says, quickly biting on his tongue to stop himself from saying, ’—after acting like such a schmuck to you last night.’
“We haven’t had a chance to talk either, have we? For us to talk properly, I mean, and without yelling at each other and while we are both sober,” he adds later on, drawing a smile to your face when you seem to realise that he is right. Namjoon’s lips turn to a wry smile when he realises that he had wasted the last few chances he had to talk to you before, how it had always ended with the both of you yelling hurtful things to each other instead of trying to figure out how to deal with the situation.
“Okay,” you whisper after a moment of silence, much to his relief, though he is still surprised that you would agree with him. Your gaze flickers toward the coffee machine as you sigh, before you meet his gaze again. “But I should probably freshen up real quick. Would you mind if I use the shower?” you ask him as you tilt your head towards the en-suite bathroom inside the room you had been sleeping in.
“By all means, help yourself,” Namjoon says with a genuine smile on his face, trying his best to hold back from adding—
Everything in this place will also be yours anyway. All of it.
It took you about 30 minutes to finish washing up.
Though it might have been more. You just know that you have lost track of time as you indulged in the luxury that the marvellous hot shower inside Namjoon’s en-suite bathroom had provided you.
It had not been your intention to stay that long in the shower, but after spending the first five minutes admiring his spacious guest bathroom and its entire fancy setup, it took you another five minutes filled with a lengthy pep talk about how much you deserved to enjoy this moment after what you have gone through before you could finally step into the shower. And you were soon filled with relief that you had talked yourself into taking it when you realised how good it felt as the hot water came running down your body. It almost felt like everything was being washed away—your fear, your pain, whatever was left from last night’s debacle—while the falling water felt more like magical fingers massaging your tense muscles until you could slowly relax. It had been too good and it felt like such a waste to step out early that you stayed longer than you should have, and you had only left when the hot water seemed to cool down and once your stomach began to protest, begging for breakfast.
After coming here completely on impulse and without carrying any personal belongings other than your small purse, you had worried about not having anything to change into. You can only sigh in defeat at the thought of the clothes that you were wearing yesterday turning into a complete mess after spilling some alcohol on yourself at some point following your impulsive act of barging into his home—hence why Namjoon had let you wear his t-shirt when it was somehow decided that you were staying for the night.
You had settled to the thought of wearing your dirty clothes again after your relaxing shower, telling yourself that you would only need to wear them on your way home anyway. But as you step out of the bathroom, wrapped in a fuzzy towel that you had found in the vanity earlier, you are surprised to find a pair of grey sweatpants and a fresh t-shirt left on the bed for you.
Taking no time to dress up, you bite down the smile that keeps trying to sneak its way to your face from thinking about how thoughtful he turns out to be. It feels like a complete turnaround after seeing the side of him that he had shown you last night, knowing that he cares enough to figure out about these things before you could.
The lavish breakfast setup and the scent of freshly brewed coffee welcome you when you walk out of the bedroom. For some reason, they bring some sense of warmth into Namjoon’s home, when all you had felt ever since you walked into this place has been nothing but hollowness. The place had seemed cold and so unfamiliar that it took you a lot of effort to feel comfortable when you laid to sleep last night. Seeing the vacant dining seats, you turn to find him standing all the way in the living room, looking out the massive window to watch over the city as it comes to life.
“This is a lot. Were you trying to feed an army?” you comment loudly before you can stop it, gaining his attention as he turns away from the window to look at you. The moment you meet his gaze, the smile on your face just comes to rise so easily, much to your surprise. And his, judging from the way he blinks rapidly as if he cannot believe what he is seeing. “Thank you for the clothes, by the way. I was already preparing myself to get through the day with the same clothes I was wearing yesterday.”
Namjoon smiles and shakes his head. “I thought you’d want something more comfortable to wear to make you feel better after that shower,” he says while making his way to you. The movement seems so natural that it almost feels like he is used to doing this—that he is used to having you here in his home. But Namjoon is quick to catch himself before getting too close, swiftly stopping and going around the table, taking the seat across from the one you are standing close to and putting the necessary distance between the two of you. “Come sit and eat with me.”
For a moment, you still feel hesitant to take his offer. Sitting here at the dining table with him seems too intimate, too soon, and too confusing. But there is something in his presence and in his words that seem to compel you into moving, eliminating every excuse that you could think of to escape as you easily slip into the empty chair right across from him without so much of a word.
The breakfast starts with silence, and for some reason, it feels oddly comfortable rather than it is being awkward to share this moment with him even when you barely know him. Things continue this way until Namjoon clears his throat and speaks first. “I want to apologise,” he starts, stopping briefly until you pay attention to him so he can continue, “I shouldn’t have said what I said to you, that was wrong of me. I won’t even justify my condition as it happened. I was drunk and caught off guard with the situation, but none of those things should give me the excuse to be an asshole.”
Your lips curl up to a small smile before you can stop yourself. “So you do realise that you were being an asshole?”
Namjoon scoffs in response to your teasing, though his shoulders sag in relief somewhat when you merely joke about it instead of yelling at him like how he seemed to have expected you to. “It’s quite hard not to,” he says with a shrug while giving you a remorseful smile that seems genuine. “I shouldn’t have said such a thing when you were going through so much already. Your life had changed irrevocably in the span of, what—hours?—after years of living in the stability which you had built with Jungkook as a huge part of your life. While it sucks for me to think about it, I understood. And it was way out of line for me to say such a thing when what you needed was someone to hold you up while you were falling.”
Once again, you are stunned speechless. His apology was something that you had expected to hear, but you had initially thought that he would simply say “I’m sorry” and then be done with it. And yet here he is, giving you such a lengthy apology and looking so terribly sincere with every word he says that you feel warmth blooming in your chest. There is also something else tugging within you as he was speaking, something that has your heart pumping and coming alive.
“You’re forgiven. For now,” you whisper to him as you return his gaze. With a sigh, you shake your head and murmur softly, “It must’ve been a shock to you when I came here unannounced, and to top it all, I created a scene—” you stop for a moment and your gaze flicker towards the living room, where the ‘scene’ from last night had happened. You wince when you remember how unruly your behaviour had been and add, “—and made a whole mess at your home when you probably wanted to have some alone time. And for that, I owe you an apology too.”
Instead of taking it, Namjoon only shakes his head. “There is no need for that. You were frustrated and needed someone to yell at. Someone you could put the blame on for everything that had gone down and I had been the most eligible bastard who deserved it, so I’m not going to blame you to take that opportunity when you could,” he says with a smile, drawing a chuckle out of you. But then he lowers his gaze, and the look that he is giving you is filled with concern as he watches you from under his eyelids. “Not to mention—it wouldn’t be fair for you to deal with this on your own when I have just as much part in this as you are.”
With his words reminding you of what had happened, the pain returns inside your chest, and you swallow hard to stop it from becoming stronger before it takes away your calm just when you finally start feeling better. Saying nothing about it, you lower your head and nod. “I didn’t know where I should run to,” you whisper, admitting how lost you had felt when Jungkook left. “And you were right, the moment I found out that Jungkook had learned everything from you, I acted out of instinct and rushed out here to—”
You look up at him just then, finding him lifting his eyebrows when you fail to finish your sentence. “To do what?” he asks, speaking softly and teasingly at the same time. “To punish me? To punch my face and release your anger?”
“All of the above, I suppose,” you answer him, allowing a shy grin to take over your face when he simply does the same. Although the grin quickly fades when your gaze falls onto his cheek, seeing the slightly pinkish shade on his skin which seems to take its time to fade and feeling the tingle on your palm that returns when you remember what you had done.
“I’m sorry, though. For assaulting you last night,” you start to apologise. Your cheeks are beginning to feel warm when you think about how reckless you had been, but you disguise it when you lift your hand and point it at him. “You know, the uhm—” you say to him, stopping to wave a hand at his cheek. “I’m sorry for slapping you.”
Namjoon laughs. “I already told you, I deserved it,” he says with a dimpled smile that has your heartbeat going so fast it nearly takes your breath away with it.
Your gazes lock to one another for a brief moment, and the air around you seems to sizzle. It prickles on your skin and makes your cheeks grow hot that you instantly look away to cease whatever it is that seems to be building between you. It is the connection, your conscience continues to remind you, but you deny it by simply ignoring it, refusing to acknowledge it for the sake of keeping it from becoming real. Thankfully, Namjoon no longer pays attention to you since the moment you severed that connection, already has his eyes on his phone as he continues to finish his simple meal, unaware that you now have your eyes on him again.
Your eyes linger on his face for a moment, silently taking him in while you have the chance to. The memory you have had of him from college and the pictures you have seen over the past few years have done no justice to what you are seeing up close. If you had thought that Jungkook is a perfect specimen of a human being, then Namjoon is—well, a different kind of perfect. While you have no intention of comparing him with your missing fiancé, there is no helping it when you keep seeing Jungkook’s face inside your head while you have your gaze on this man.
The one thing that you love about Jungkook is the soft features he has on his face even when his body is all firm and strong, but with Namjoon, everything about him is all hard, and all male. From the sharp lines on his face to his hard chest—you still remember how he felt under your palms when he pressed you against him—and his strong arms that made you feel small when he held you in his embrace.
As much as you hate to admit it, there is simply no way that you could possibly deny the attraction that is slowly beginning to sink in before you ever had the chance to realise it. When did it happen? Was it an instant pull, right when the soulmate bond snapped into place the night Namjoon’s mark appeared on his wrist? Or did it happen last night, right after you unleashed your anger on him and then you—
Your gaze trails down to find his lips, and almost instinctively the tingles start appearing on your lips just as you are once again taken back to last night, when in the middle of your frenzy, right when your mind was still clouded in the thick haze of your heartbreak and while you were slowly losing all control against the soulmate pull that your body simply—gave in. Right at that moment, you close your eyes, hoping that it would be enough to erase the flashing image of what happened in your blunder, only to feel your stomach dip when you fail and the memory returns.
Why did I have to kiss him?
You reach up and press your fingers on your lips, hoping to wipe the sensation away. But even as you try to do it by brushing your fingers across your lips, you can still feel it coming back to you each time the memory returns, and every single time it happens, your chest tightens with guilt.
It wasn’t that the kiss had been intended. Your emotions had been completely out of control, and the strong alcohol that you had drunk in the desperate need of erasing your pain must have clouded your judgement. You faintly remember Namjoon rushing to stop you from finishing his bottle, yet it only caused your rage to rise further, and you pushed him away while calling him names and accusing him to be petty and selfish for not wanting to share his drink. And when he finally caught your arm and glared at you to reprimand you, when the shove you gave against his chest wasn’t strong enough to draw him away, you ended up grabbing him by his collars and pulled him down until you could press your lips on his.
The kiss was meant to be brief, just something to shut him up because half of your mind had been thinking of smacking his lips with your palm and it was almost as if your body simply decided that using your lips would be a better idea. Clearly, your mind had already short-circuited just then to react so impulsively before you even realised what you were doing.
Despite the numbness and everything about last night that had become nothing but blurry fragments of moments, you still remember everything about the kiss. You still remember how his body stiffened when you reached out and pulled him down and how he was unmoving for a moment when you pressed your lips on his. You still remember how soft and tender his lips had felt when he began to reciprocate and pressed them against yours instead of pulling away, how he took over and seized control until your head spun with delight.
And you cannot deny the fact that your body came alight upon contact and how the tingles kept rising in the heat of the kiss, how it felt just as intoxicating as the drinks that you stole from him that you kept leaning in when he started to deepen the kiss, allowing his tongue to slip in while his hands pulled you closer to him. But the worse part of it all is the fact that instead of pushing him away, you simply relished the way your whole body was burning from the inside and out.
Thinking about it now makes your cheeks burn and your body heats up once more, but you shake it away. You had tried to convince yourself that it would be better for you to forget that it ever happened and move on. But now that he had put everything out in the open, after both of you had been so willing to own up to your mistakes, that decision simply flies out the window and you give in to the guilt that you are feeling inside.
Lowering your head to hide your burning face, you murmur to him, “Then I’m sorry for kissing you. That was—for the lack of a better word, completely inappropriate.” Unsurprisingly, hearing this only makes his smile grow wider, the dimples on his cheeks deepen when he chuckles so pleasingly as if he enjoys seeing you so flustered.
“I’m honestly not too sorry about it,” he softly says, and you almost swear that your heart nearly jumps out of your chest, most specifically when he slowly lifts his intense gaze to yours. You try to act like his words have no effect on you, but you doubt that you can hide it well when a grin comes onto his face. “But all is forgiven. Neither of us had been in our right minds when it happened.”
His words should be giving you some sense of relief, and yet again, your body reacts differently, when a rush of warmth engulfs you. It makes it even harder to deny it when both his words and the way he is looking at you are making you feel—wanted,even if you know that it is only coming from the bond you have between you and nothing else.
Nothing like what you share with Jungkook.
You say nothing to respond to his words, then simply turn away to enjoy your coffee so you would stop getting drawn to his intense gaze. “I don’t remember seeing you cook and there is no traces left in the kitchen showing me that you prepared breakfast while I was in the shower. Except for the coffee. Do you have staff helping you with all of this?” you ask him once another moment of silence settles in, choosing to change the topic just so you can stop thinking about the kiss again, which happens whenever your mind is idle.
Namjoon smiles bashfully. “I do. The staff belongs to the exclusive floors in this building, though. My boss, the benefactor behind the recording company, owns this building, and the staff is always on standby just in case we need anything. They always send me breakfast in the morning. All I had to do was ask for some extra portions so I can have you join me this morning.”
“You must have done it often, haven’t you? Invite someone to stay the night, feed them with lavish breakfast in the morning to woo them—” You have no idea where this thought had come from or what you are trying to accomplish by saying them out loud. And you certainly have not expected to feel a pang of jealousy for picturing all those women he had taken photos with sitting on this very same table with him, possibly in a more intimate way. You clutch onto your cold glass of water to stop yourself from pressing your palm onto your chest, right where the sting is coming from, though the feeling is quick to be replaced with guilt.
Because if knowing that he had shared his life with others before hurts you, even knowing that all he had gone through had been nothing more but short term relationships or flings, then how had he felt when he had to watch you with Jungkook?
“You may not believe me,” Namjoon speaks after clearing his throat, and you lift your eyes to find him looking straight at you so intensely that it makes you shudder in your seat. “But I’ve never invited anyone to stay the night here, or have the staff cook for them. Except for my family, of course.”
“Really? Not even your past girlfriends?”
You immediately regret asking him this when a spark of mirth comes to his eyes. When he seems intrigued at the fact that you are asking him about his past love life.
“How did you know that I’ve been with anyone else before?”
Gritting your teeth, you bite back the response that might end up with you confessing to him that you have been keeping up with his life over the past few years. It didn’t happen often, and not always on purpose either, when his photos just basically appeared even when you were not searching for anything related to him. With a forced smile, you simply answer him with, “Lucky guess. After all, you have always had a date clinging to your arms on the two occasions we met. Surely, it wouldn’t be wrong of me to assume that there are others in between.”
Namjoon blinks. Whether or not he believes you is not really your problem, though you are surprised to see a mix of shock and guilt in his eyes for a brief moment—and maybe a semblance of shame—before everything fades in the next blink. However, he still keeps his eyes on you when he says, “There had been a few casual relationships that I’ve shared in the past, some casual flings, nothing truly serious. Some of the women that people may have seen with me as my date have also been a part of—” he grimaces, “Well, you may call it as special arrangements.”
“What do you mean?”
Namjoon shrugs and gives you a small smile. “It means it was nothing but that, a front to show the public that I had connections. It helped boost the business when I showed up on dates with people who mattered in the business and it mostly helped them at the same time as showing up with me in public put their name out there for people and the media to recognise,” he says, once again surprising you when instead of telling you this while wearing a sense of pride on his face, all that you see on his face is a hint of shame, before he puts on another mask, and he wears a determined look on his face when he says, “So, the answer is no. They’ve never spent the night here and I’ve never opened my home to them. While I can’t say that I’m a saint either, I have had flings, friends with benefits, women that I could call when I needed a company, and oftentimes the public date that people were seeing me in would continue for the rest of the night, if you know what I mean. I can’t tell you all the details, but—” he stops to look at you in the eyes to add, “The time I spent with them had never been spent here, not in my home.”
Clearly, you have no idea how to react to that, or how to respond when he is looking at you with some sort of a hopeful look in his eyes. How could you even say anything when he just opens up that part of his life so easily, to be so easily honest instead of putting up a front just to amuse you? Unable to find anything to say, you look away, nodding at him as you tell him, “I see. Well, what you do at your personal time isn’t truly my business, is it?”
“Did. What I did in my personal time—” he quickly says with a firm voice, drawing you to find his eyes again. “Things have changed. It has to be.”
“You don’t have to change anything just because—” you begin to speak, hating the way your heart is giving some happy little flops in your chest just for hearing him say those things. Because it doesn’t matter. It shouldn’t matter. And you shouldn’t be jumping up and down in joy when his life doesn’t concern you. “We don’t even know each other to be saying things like this.”
“Then perhaps we can change that.”
“What?”
With a sigh, Namjoon leans forward to get closer to you, his eyes never waver from your face as he speaks, bringing back everything that had once been said between you the last time you met.
Before Jungkook left to give you space.
“Perhaps we can take this chance to get to know each other better. Past the memory of me being the douchebag who talked shit about the soulmate system and ignored you while you were waiting to see me, past the knowledge of me being Jungkook’s friend or the man who put up a front as if I have had a glorious love life in the past,” he says, and you can swear that there is a fire in his eyes, a look that tells you that he is not backing down. Not from this one.
“There is a reason why the universe had put the both of us together and matched us since birth. There is a reason why fate still insisted that we met, regardless of what had happened to us in the past that had kept us apart. Don’t you want to know what reason that might be?”
The weight of Namjoon’s offer sits with you all through breakfast. While it doesn’t do much to ruin the serene moment that you have been sharing with Namjoon right until the moment he said the words, it still has you growing weary and uneasy for the rest of the morning you spend with him.
It becomes a wonder for you when you manage to walk away from the dining table completely unscathed, even if your mind continues reeling over it without even being able to give him a sold answer. As if he can sense it, Namjoon merely smiles when you fall silent after hearing his offer and suggests that you would take your time to consider it.
“You don’t have to give me an answer or agree with it right away. Try to think about it, don’t let me force or affect any decision you make,” he says, before changing the topic just when you come close to start thinking of ways to escape and flee out of his home.
By noon, you are back at your apartment, sitting on the sofa right in front of the television, its empty screen looking back at you. Namjoon had sent his driver to take you home merely an hour ago, right around the same time he had suddenly acquired some motivation to get back to work and had decided that the driver would be of better use to drive you home while he did his duty from his fancy penthouse.
Feeling drained and sensing no other emotions but the emptiness that had followed you since the day before, you had fallen onto this sofa moments after you walked in and you have yet to move away from it since. You should be mulling over his offer, or perhaps plan out what to do to get Jungkook back and have him talk to you. But you are too numb to do anything, much less to function when you can barely think clearly, as if both your body and mind have shut down ever since you returned to your empty home.
Home.
Looking around, you take in your surroundings, gazing at the space that you had built together with Jungkook as a place where you would be—should have been—building your future together. You look at the beige-coloured walls around you which have been adorned with various framed pictures of the two of you and posters of everything that you both enjoy in life, at the room that is filled with all the mementoes that you have collected together with Jungkook through all the years you spent together.
Your mind takes you back to Namjoon’s home, which had appeared a complete contrast to your own. Despite calling it his personal space, Namjoon’s penthouse seemed scarce of intimate touches. It had felt too impersonal for you, with only essential things filling his home instead of the things that would make his personal space homely, with monochrome colours painting all the walls, spaces, and furnitures which seemed to be the opposite of the vibrant colours that you could find in yourhome.
And yet, as you are sitting here on your own, this apartment suddenly feels colder, hollow, as if the warmth that has been a huge part of it has been sucked dry the moment Jungkook stepped out of the door, the moment every bit of hope that you have built simply shattered when he turned away from you, taking all of that hope and your joy away while taking away your right to choose.
With a sharp inhale of breath, you finally snap out of it, and you soon fall in motion to start picking your life back up as much as possible.
You start by contacting your workplace, while you had informed your co-workers of your absence for the past two days, you decide to make it clear that the ‘family emergency’ you are currently dealing with will take some more time to fix and that you will need to take an early vacation leave before you can return to work. Then you start making more phone calls, sending out texts, doing the best you can to trace Jungkook’s whereabouts and confirm that he is okay, that perhaps you can find him and drag him back home to you.
Your stomach dips when Jungkook’s brother contacts you back only to let you know that your fiancé has yet to appear back at their hometown—not at their parents’ house, not at the brother’s house, and nowhere near their other relatives or old friends. Another call confirms what Namjoon had told you that Jungkook has yet to step foot at the company either, while none of your close friends claims to have been contacted by Jungkook since the day he was gone.
It takes a lot of convincing and pleading to Jungkook’s brother to make him believe that nothing is wrong and to make him promise that he wouldn’t let the news reach their parents. And it takes you a lot of vague explanations to answer all the questions that your friends throw at you with each call or text to keep them from finding out what is actually happening.
Your sister is the last person you call, and her voice immediately feels like a warm hug. Even before you start explaining to her all the details, Gahee seems to have sensed it, as if she had been expecting to receive this call for a long time.
“Gosh, I’m so sorry, _____, I have no idea what to say. Do you want to stay here with us until he comes back? Youngjae has a conference to attend out of town this weekend and I was just about to ask you to stay here to keep me company and help out with Gyeoul anyway,” she softly says.
“I don’t know,” you whisper into the call. “I want to be here if—when he comes back.” Your throat feels constricted that you can barely say those words, and you realise just how unconvincing you sounded even to yourself. Your eyes begin to prickle and burn with tears for the lost hope, but you suck a deep breath and hold everything in. Only for your effort to turn futile when your sister offers,
“I know that you want to wait for him. But would it be a good idea to wait on your own? At least when you’re here, you have Gyeoul and me to distract you. You wouldn’t have everything that reminds you of him suffocating and torturing you in your wait.”
Suffocating? Is that what this place is making me feel?
You begin to wonder about this just when your chest grows even tighter the moment your eyes fall on one of the photos that Jungkook had put on display. An old photo of you taken on your birthday two years ago.
You close your eyes briefly before taking another look around you just as you end the phone call. Not a moment too soon, the silence sinks in, as if it has been waiting in the shadows, lurking around you until the moment you are no longer busy with calls and texts to finally notice it and it would finally engulf you, wrapping itself around you until you find it hard to simply breathe.
Right at that moment, you know that you would never be able to survive sitting here in your silence and in the not knowing only to wait helplessly for Jungkook’s return. Determined to not let yourself drown in sorrow, you finally make your move.
By dusk, you have your personal things packed up. Essential things that you would need to get through the upcoming days and only enough spare clothes to get through the week. By nightfall, you are sitting inside an Uber ride taking you across the city. The hollowness follows you even after you are kilometres away from your apartment, though you can slowly feel it fading, chipped in with every added distance. You try not to think too much about where you are heading to, keeping your eyes looking out the window and watching closely at the city that still thrives while your entire world seems to be falling apart.
By the time you reach your destination, your chest no longer feels tight, though you still feel completely numb. And it doesn’t help eliminate your spiking nerves as you stand right in front of the doorway, your heart stammering in your chest as you are waiting for it to be opened.
The sound of the keys and the door clicking open feels like a gavel coming down to seal your fate. A sense of uncertainty plagues you as you are standing there, though it all fades so quickly when you lift your face and meet Namjoon’s eyes.
“I—I don’t know why I’m here, but—”
Once again, you feel as if your throat is clogged when you are not even completely sure how to explain yourself. The last thing you remember was feeling the dread of loneliness while being alone inside your home. That intense feeling had pulled you right out of it to find solace, only to lead you all the way here, back to his door.
While you are busy questioning yourself, Namjoon simply smiles at you and steps aside, widening the door behind him so you could step right past him. There is no question in his eyes, no doubt in his smile, and there is nothing but pure warmth engulfing you when he says,
“Come in. You’re always welcome here, _____.”
➥ Author’s note | Forgive me for the wait, but this one took a bit of time to finish. As you may have noticed, I have added another chapter on the masterpost. I have decided to split the original chapter into two, with chapter 8 as the filler chapter, while more intriguing stuff will happen later on chapter 9. I hope you enjoyed reading this one. Thank you for joining this emotional ride. Any feedback is welcome!
this place that looked so bright and full of life, made you feel like the loneliest person in the world.
seoul.
a place where everyone seemed to know everyone and no one at the same time, this maze of a place is what you would call home for the next year and so.
being a transfer student was hard enough on its own, being an introverted art transfer student was even harder. all the friends who came with you had already found home in the people around them and in the places they chose to live in but you were stuck here, in this admittedly beautiful apartment, but even as beautiful as it was, you didn’t have anyone to fill the silence in the air around you.
your friends were good people though, they knew how hard it would be for you to adjust which is why they constantly spent time with you but you have urged them to not bother with that anymore, they’re in a new place with a treasure box full of memories and fun to unbox and you are no one to hold them back.
and loneliness isn’t an unfamiliar feeling, so you don’t feel too down about it.
but you do wish that you had someone to open your treasure box with, someone who sits beside you as you unpack the stories you would tell in the future, someone who would be the main character in your stories, the one who knows everything about you, someone who listens to the dreams you whisper into the night.
you had simple dreams.
your dream was to escape the cage you put yourself in.
and you’ll get there, your hope is flickering and exhausted but it exists, it urges you to breath everyday even if it’s hard, even if you want to run away and never talk to anyone again, your tiny light of hope that you’ll reach your dream, is what keeps you alive.
besides, seoul has too many pretty café’s, bakery’s, and skylines for you to give up here, you would rather give up in a place where everything is mundane and monotone, kind of like your home before you came here.
your hands lay limp beside you as you take a break from molding your sculpture, the clay drying on your hand feels uncomfortable, the night keeps getting colder as midnight strikes, and you feel tired in all aspects but that isn’t a valid excuse to the world, and it is especially a lousy excuse to your teacher who will grade this assignment in a few months from now.
you have just a few months to finish this intricate design of a woman falling down, you’re half-way done with her head but your mind doesn’t let you imagine what a descent would look like, a descent of a spectacular woman like the one you’ve made deserves to be show-stopping and you can’t come up with it.
what made you think that being an art major student would be a good idea?
you are clearly not cut out for it and the consolation and peace you used to feel every time your hands moved to create something is largely absent from your recent works, you feel like you can’t do anything right these days.
you are so cruel to yourself, even when the world is enough cruel to you, you press yourself to feel more pain, to hurt yourself a little more and you feel utterly useless in this large world filled with talented people.
art used to be your thing, it used to make you feel like a blooming flower during spring, it used to make you feel like you’re having the wildest party all in your head and it broke your heart into many more pieces when you didn’t feel that rush of emotions anymore.
you loudly sigh and check the time; it’s a little past midnight and you can only guarantee your safety if you start leaving now considering you want to take a ride to han river before you head home as well. you arrange your supplies in the right order and wave goodbye to the unfinished sculpture, grabbing your bicycle and then you’re gone in the wind.
the world doesn’t seem as cruel with breeze flying through your hair and your hands tightly wound on the bicycle you’ve rented for the time being, it was cheaper and you needed a way of transport in this expensive city, and you don’t like buses even if they’re more accessible, you prefer your lilac bike.
han river is one place that feels like home in this cold city, it’s the one place you will let yourself get lost in, you screech your cycle to a stop and step off the bike, there’s not a lot of people in sight, a few couples here and there, some people walking their dog and then your bench. well, it’s not your bench but whenever you’re here, it’s always empty and you just claimed it as yours but this time, it’s not.
you squint your eyes as you walk your bike to the bench, the usually empty bench seems to be occupied by a tall man, who doesn’t seem to notice anything around him, his cap is lowered just enough to cover his eyes and his stature is slightly slouched over, you only notice a notebook on his lap once you get close enough.
“is there anything i can help you with?” a gentle but deep voice breaks your train of thoughts and that is when you realize you’re staring at him, you panic and quickly bow in apology, palms already sweaty at having to come up with an excuse.
“i-i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to stare, this bench is usually empty which i was confused that’s all, enjoy your night” you bow again in apology, eyes squeezing shut, you want to run away and never come back, even your safe place has an embarrassing memory attached to it now.
“no no it’s okay” he lightly chuckles and you feel grateful to the kind stranger.
“if you want, there’s place for one more” he pats the empty space next to him and finally lifts his head, with his cap no longer getting in your way, you almost gasp at how handsome the man is, his eyes especially, you don’t think you’ve seen more beautiful eyes in your life.
“i don’t want to intrude, really it’s okay” you nervously say, hands squeezing the handles of your bike tighter.
“you’re not intruding, technically this is public property so you can do what you want.” he shrugs.
he’s not wrong. and his voice is awfully soothing to the ear so yeah, maybe you’ll take that seat.
you rest your bike against the tree beside it, noticing another bike resting against it and sheepishly sit down next to the man with the blue bike and comforting voice. you lean back with a sigh of relief, still a little stiff because you’re sitting next to a stranger but you don’t feel as uncomfortable as you usually do around new people.
you like that.
you like not freezing every time someone unfamiliar talks to you.
“my name’s kim namjoon, by the way” he lifts his hand with a huge smile and your eyes admire the deep dimples on his cheek, he looks friendly and awfully too nice.
too nice.
“y/n” your cheeks are already flushed and you manage to only whisper your name as you shake his hand, his hand feels warm and welcome.
“so, y/n, which university do you go to, assuming that you are still a student?” you’re surprised that he is trying to make conversation with you but you find yourself not minding it at all.
“still a student and this university” you lift your phone to show him the university on your phone and his eyes spark with recognition. it isn’t good to show strangers which university you go to but namjoon looks harmless, you just hope he’s as harmless as he seems.
“we go to the same university” he smiles at you and you bite your lip, you’ve never seen him around.
“do we? what do you major in?” you slip your phone into your pocket and look at him.
the moonlight looks especially stunning on him.
“it’s pretty boring, business and history” he sheepishly scratches the back of his head and you shake your head immediately.
“everything feels boring after a while, i’m sure you’ll find something special in those subjects too” you wish you could say the same to yourself but you’re not sure if your love for art will ever be reborn again. you don’t notice namjoon’s fond eyes looking at you as you worry about yourself.
“what course do you take?”
“art” you answer shyly.
“that’s so cool” and usually, whenever you tell people that you’re an art major, you see a constant wariness in their eyes, judging you, judging your future and they proceed to ask questions about how you’ll build yourself from scratch. questions like that scared you.
namjoon doesn’t say anything but a simple compliment, simple but sincere and that’s really all you need. you smile at him, sincerely for the first time in months.
“you come here often?” it keeps surprising you that he continues the conversation but you’re grateful that he does, you have no way to continue it yourself.
“not a lot of other places to go to when you’re a broke college student.” namjoon chuckles at your dull tone and you find that you like that, you like making him laugh like he is right now.
“you’re right, seoul is as expensive as it can get.” his tone is whiny and…cute? everything about namjoon is cute as far as you can tell.
“tell me about it, can’t buy a decent cup of coffee without having to sell my kidney.” he laughs once again and at the sound of his laughter, a familiar bloom of happiness starts slowly in your body too. and you grin at him.
“well i bear good news for you, dear broke college student, i happen to be the owner of a bakery near the campus, it’s called ‘joonie,’ don’t question the name please, and you’re welcome anytime, i promise to give a hefty discount.” his voice is teasing and filled with playfulness which makes you giggle, his eyes widen at your loud giggle, before they disappear because of his huge smile.
“not for free?” you decide to tease him back and he throws a glare at you, though a smile stays dancing on his lips.
“i will be the broke college student then” you laugh breathlessly into the chilly night and you feel free. you don’t feel your cage around you, even if it was just for that moment or two.
and you know that’s it all because of the man with the blue bike sitting right next to you.
maybe, just maybe, seoul isn’t as lonely of a place as you thought it would be.
-
that night, you fell asleep with a warm feeling trapped in your body, namjoon insisted to walk you, and even with all the sirens of stranger danger, you let him, it was a lovely walk, you made each other laugh as the night grew colder and right at your door, he gave you a smile you would remember forever, that’s how special it felt to you.
now, that you’re alone again, you don’t feel as warm and fuzzy anymore, you are cold as ice like any other day.
you don’t know why you are, the way you are but you are. you exist, fading in and out of reality, but you exist. and you have responsibilities, you have teachers back home to make proud, you have a family waiting for your calls, you have assignments to finish, you have a life that you can’t just resign from.
your hands drip with wet clay as you focus on finishing the head of your falling lady, you feel your approaching sadness over the emotions you miss, your hands carefully press and smooth on her face, you don’t want to mess her up and you need your scholarship if you want to stay or continue in seoul. but you still feel hollow, devoid of the capability to feel anything.
you lean back on the uncomfortable wooden stool which digs into your skin from time to time, you can’t even reach for your phone with how messy your hands are and you groan, desperately trying to get your head back into it.
“can’t focus?” you hear the same, deep voice and you immediately snap your head at the entrance of the studio room to see namjoon leaning on the doorframe, he had a nervous smile on his face with slightly widened eyes and you immediately felt bashful under his careful gaze.
“it’s nothing new” you say honestly and he hums, walking into the room and sitting on the other side of your table.
“i hope you don’t think is creepy, you told me you were in the art department and i was going to head home, but the light was turned on here so i assumed there would be a chance of you being here, and i just wanted to check, i swear it sounds creepy but it’s n-“ you cut his nervous rambling with a small chuckle, waving your hand to dismiss his worries.
“it’s alright, really” you reassure him and he sighs in relief.
“i’m not here to distract you though, you can keep working, i’ll leave.” he gives you a smile and gets ready to leave but you don’t want him to go.
“no, stay.” you say and immediately feel a blush creep over your face when he shrugs happily and sits back down.
“i could use a distraction right now, is what i meant” you try to cover you but you know that namjoon doesn’t buy that excuse, he just nods with a playful roll of his eyes.
“in that case, can i take you somewhere?” and you don’t say no.
-
in namjoon’s poorly lit bakery, which apparently runs 24/7, you feel good sitting opposite to him and you don’t mind the open environment because there’s barely anyone here.
“you were doing a sculpture when i came in, right?” you nod, fingers curling around the coffee cup in front of you.
“the idea is to make it a falling woman.”
“i can’t imagine that being easy.” namjoon tilts his head with a small frown.
“you’re right, it’s not. which is why i’m struggling with it” you smile tightly, your mind once again invading you with your inability to finish it.
“it’s not easy but i’m sure you can do it.” he reassures you and as much as you want to believe it, you don’t have it in you.
“right” you mumble with a strained smile and namjoon picks up on your sour mood.
“it’s hard to focus sometimes, burnouts are very natural especially if it’s a creative process like yours, so take it easy, work as hard as you can when you’re motivated, and take breaks when you don’t feel motivated” you just stare at him with your mouth agape, because no one’s tried to comfort you like this and you don’t even know namjoon all that well.
“thank you, like seriously thank you” you are grateful to him, his words did give you a small push, to continue your assignment.
“you don’t have to thank me, just be sure to show me when you’re done with it, yeah?” he smiles at you and you nod happily, you decide right then that he’ll be the first person you show because you really don’t know anyone else in this city.
“enough about me, tell me about you.”
“i like writing songs.” you widen your eyes in excitement and urge him to continue, at your enthusiastic reaction, he lets out a little laugh and rubs the back of his neck.
“me and my friends, we recently rented a studio, the goal is to be a producing group together, we’re pretty solid” he explains and your respect and admiration for him grows ten-fold.
you want to ask him to listen to one of his works but you’re not sure if you’re there yet.
“one day, maybe if we keep meeting like this, you can listen to something by me.” he suggests and you’re delighted that he says it himself.
“one day” you smile gleefully at him and he smiles right back.
you may not like seoul just yet, but you like namjoon.
you like namjoon a lot.
-
you don’t stop meeting namjoon, whether it be at your art studio when he visits you late at night, and it feels so delicate with no one else but you two. or whether you meeting him during his shift in the library and then walking to the bakery and staying there till it gets too late.
you enjoy his company; you enjoy making him laugh and knowing more about him.
and you only hope that he enjoys it just as much as you do.
you really, really hope that he does.
“you look cute when you concentrate” you suddenly hear namjoon’s voice as your hands smooth over your woman’s cheeks, your movements pause on the sculpture, looking at him with widened eyes and he simply grins at you, you snap your head back and start running your hands on her face, ignoring the butterflies in your chest.
“oh right, the other day, you asked me when i would let you listen to my music?” you immediately abandon your sculpture to lean towards him with an eager smile on your face and namjoon chuckles bashfully at your reaction.
one thing that you both constantly talked about was his music, since you got to know about it, your curiosity was endless, and namjoon was more than happy to feed your thoughts, telling you everything from his inspiration to write lyrics to where he gets his equipment and why he writes the lyrics he does.
“well, today’s the day if you want to go” you don’t even answer him, shuffling out of your seat and putting your sculpture, and namjoon watches with amusement as you hurriedly arrange everything and run around to finish as quickly as you can.
“let’s go” you gasp breathlessly as you come back to him while stuffing your arms into your cardigan and namjoon gestures you to calm down with the same amused smile.
“i’m calm, now take me” you whine as you grab his hand, dragging him out of your studio.
-
you both are giggling all the way up to his studio, namjoon either tickling you whenever you talk too much or you mess up his hair by pulling his hoodie on his head over and over again, you’re nothing but all smiles as you reach the room. the lights are already on and you hear light noise coming from the inside, namjoon looks over at you and then places his hand on the door.
“i guess, you’re also meeting my friends today” he smiles at you and you freeze, and just as you’re about to grab his hand and run back to your studio, he pushes the door open and pulls you in with him.
you are met with three pairs of unfamiliar eyes who immediately look up at the intrusive sound and the new person in the room. you instinctively move behind namjoon a little, but then he’s tutting at you and pulling you gently in front of him, all while the four pair of eyes never leave your intertwined fingers.
your feet stop moving as you only look at the ground, letting namjoon start the conversation.
“everyone, meet y/n, she’s my…friend” he breathes out and you don’t lift your head, just nodding in acknowledgement. you hear people shuffle around before a hand comes into your vision, you look up to see a man with a bright smile on his face.
“name’s hoseok, nice to meet you” you slowly shake his hand as he keeps smiling at you, you feel yourself smile back at him involuntarily. someone pushes hoseok out of the way and even as he turns to curse at them, another hand extends itself towards you.
“hello, i’m taehyung” he doesn’t wait for you to take his hand but eagerly reaches for it and shakes it roughly, making you giggle at his frantic actions, and then one more hand takes his place.
“yoongi, good to meet you” he offers you a small smile and you smile back at him.
“this isn’t everyone by the way, just the half” and you’re glad because your social battery isn’t charged for more people.
“now, i came here to show y/n something so, everyone out” namjoon points to the door with his thumb and everyone except you starts whining and complaining but they do start to gather their things, hoseok leaves first but not without telling you that you should hang out one day and yoongi does the same, taehyung pauses at the door before turning with a smirk.
“you’re kicking us to kiss y/n, right?” he teases and you choke on your own breath, namjoon also blushes and looks away before pushing the boy out.
“sorry about that” he scratches the back of his neck and you wave your hand to dismiss his worries, shyly pushing your hair back.
“okay, let’s do this” he claps his hands, sitting in front of a large monitor, you sit right beside him, leaning over to see him clicking over many files to find the song he wanted to play for you.
he looks at you with a nervous smile and you nudge him to press play already and when he does, you don’t think about anything but the sound that surrounds you.
it’s an alternating beat, flowing between a softer to a harsher beat, the lyrics and namjoon’s voice engulfing you, telling you story about an ending, a bye which isn’t pleasent, and it makes you tear up, because the feeling that you missed with your art slowly spreads in your chest, covering inches of you in miniscule crawls but just the return of those feelings makes you want to break down on the floor in happiness.
you listen with awe written all over your face and namjoon doesn’t disturb you, doesn’t ask you how it is, just lets you feel his words in peace.
at the end of the song, he doesn’t even ask you if you like the song or not, he simply smiles at your teary eyes and wipes a few tears that stopped on the apples of your cheeks.
“sometimes, i’m afraid” he quietly says, the music long fading into background and now, it’s only him that matters.
“afraid of what?”
“that i won’t go somewhere with this” he gestures to the equipment and lyric sheets messily thrown on the desk, the tension is heavy in the room with namjoon’s dull mood, and you take his hand in yours.
“you made me feel something that i never thought i would feel again, i was so scared that i lost the part of me that could feel but that one song revived me, and if that happened with me, i’m sure your music will resonate to a lot of others too, and you don’t have to go somewhere with this, you’re already there as long as you love what you’re doing.” you tell the words you wished someone would say to you, because namjoon, out of anyone else you knew, deserved to hear those words.
he’s grateful for your words as he takes your hand in his and presses a gentle kiss on it. your smile is wider than it’s ever been and you know that it’s only because of him. and with that kiss, you also know that it’s not just you who is falling.
“thank you” he mutters, cupping your hands gently in his.
“you can thank me by playing more songs” you cheekily say and namjoon lifts his hands in surrender with a low chuckle, already looking for more songs to play for you, but now, it’s less about showing you his work and more about seeing that look on your face as you completely get lost in the song.
that’s how you spend the night, you end up in full blown tears at some point, and namjoon laughs as he keeps wiping them with his sweater and you don’t want the night to end, you don’t want to stop crying around namjoon because you get too into your feels about the song, you don’t him to stop wiping your tears away because it’s him, and any moment with him, laughter or sobs, feels right.
how are you ever supposed to tell him that you have to leave?
-
you stir lightly in your slumber, being unable to stretch as much as you want to and with an annoyed groan, you open your eyes to meet..a chest?
yeah, that’s someone’s chest, you’re very sure it is.
you snap your head up even in your half sleepy state to see namjoon still blissfully in dream land.
then you look at your surroundings, you never left the studio last night and right now, you’re all cuddled up to namjoon and the warmth around you two is a good change from the weather outside.
you don’t mind this, you don’t mind this at all.
you lazily smile before snuggling closer and trying to fall asleep again, but then you hear noises, voices to be more exact and it’s coming from right outside the door, you internally panic but don’t have the energy to try and move.
you hear the creak of the door opening, and squeeze your eyes shut, hoping that whoever it is, just goes away and leaves you until you can run out. the voices immediately pause, and you know that they’re looking at you.
“no way” someone chuckles in disbelief and if you remember right, the voice belongs to taehyung. you feel namjoon move in his sleep and expect him to get up abruptly to explain to his friends whatever this was. but just like you, he doesn’t move.
“what are you doing here so early?” he groans, cradling your face deeper into his chest and you feel a rosy blush erupting in your cheeks at his low voice and the new closer proximity.
“it’s saturday, namjoon” hoseok answers.
“i get that but can you leave till she gets up and goes back? i don’t want her to be uncomfortable when she wakes up.” your heart warms at how considerate he is of you and stifle your laugh when they playfully complain to namjoon, loud enough to whine but low enough to not disturb you, they still think you’re asleep.
“the things we do for young love” yoongi dramatically mutters.
“you better buy us a round of drinks later, hyung” you hear taehyung complain but you also hear a smile in his complaint, like he actually doesn’t mind at all.
“yeah yeah, now get out.”
“so bossy” hoseok mutters one last time before the door closes and you deeply exhale in relief.
“you can open your eyes now, they’re gone” namjoon brushes your hair away from your face and you squirm in his arms, darting your eyes up as you look at him, you feel totally in bliss in his arms with sunlight shining on you two.
am i suffocating you?
do i make you happy like you make me?
am i hurting you, because i’ve done that before?
how will i leave you behind?
like a response to all your questions, namjoon places a soft kiss on your forehead before his lips trail all across your face, delicately drawing patterns on your face and then his lips pause at yours.
but you don’t back away like you expected yourself to and he doesn’t either, only holds you tighter.
-
the smile on your face doesn’t budge as you finish your falling lady’s head, it’s finally done, and you’re honestly in love with her, you’re in love with everything about her face, from her eyelashes that are startled open, lips slightly parted, eyebrows raised in an elegant way and her face contorted in a peaceful shock. even when falling, she’s supposed to be the most graceful woman. and she looks like it too.
you feel at peace, not as jittery as you used to be, you still get the occasional sinking feeling of fear and disappointment but you don’t let it take over you like it used to.
even your hands covered with clay don’t feel uncomfortable, they don’t feel suffocating, they feel freeing, you’re slowly re-discovering love, both for art and in people. and you know why you feel better than you have in years.
the door to the art studio swings open and you barely recognize namjoon who stumbles in through.
you also understand why love is addictive.
“do you need help with that?” you get up from your stool when you see namjoon carrying a huge stack of books in his arms. you hear a groan in reply and stifle a laugh as you wipe your hands on your apron and take half the stack from him, placing them on your desk with a huff.
“why are you carrying these around?” you ask as he sits down opposite to you.
“new books, i need to write their titles down in this register” he lifts a large, rectangular book from the desk with a look of dread on his face.
“you couldn’t do that in the library? carrying all of these books back will be exhausting.”
“i just wanted to spend time with you” he nervously chuckles and you feel your cheeks warm up.
“then you did a good thing” you smile at him and both of you work silently, you continue to start the body of your lady and namjoon scribbles through many of those books.
you know you have to tell him, that your time here, that your time with him is limited and you know he deserves to know before both of you get too deep into this to get out.
“joon, there’s something you need to know” you stop drawing your pieces and he stops writing as well, putting his pen down to give you his undivided attention.
“i’m listening.” as confident as he sounds, you know that he’s nervous, it’s written all over his face.
“you know that i’m a transfer student, right?”
“right, and your course lasts for 2-3 years?” he looks so hopeful, you want to take back every word you’ve said so far and just let him believe that.
but you can’t do that anymore.
“no, it doesn’t” you look away from him and he frowns.
“does it last for longer then?” you hate this. you really hate this.
“i’m staying here only for a couple more months, like 4-5 now.” you purse your lips and stay silent as you wait for his reaction, he doesn’t say anything either, his frown gets deeper and you almost feel like you’re betraying him. which you are.
“i’m sorry, i just need a minute” he gets up from his seat and your eyes nervously follow his movement.
“of course, take your time” you mumble as he exits the art studio and you feel your heart sinking as soon as the door shuts close and you’re all alone again.
the motivation you had when you first started the night of sculpting, left your body as soon as the sound of the door clicking shut filled the air, your shoulders slump and your hands lay limp by your side, and before you know it, tears slide down your cheeks as you purse your lips.
you had just stopped getting used to being lonely but now that the feeling comes rushing back to you, you hate it.
-
you don’t hear from namjoon for the next two days and you’re left tossing right and left in your bed and trying to ignore the tears that stain your pillows.
you should’ve told him sooner, you should’ve let him know that even if you had time, it wouldn’t be much, but maybe he thought it was better to leave you while he could.
it’s not like it hurt any less for you though, because you really did like namjoon, you might even love him if you could convince yourself that you were capable of love, you have never felt the way with anyone else but namjoon, that feeling of just teetering over the edge before you completely get lost in him.
every time your phone buzzes, your heart leaps in your throat and you hurriedly grab it but it’s never him.
you lazily structure the body of your sculpture, messing up frequently and with each mistake, you feel more annoyed, not only with yourself, but with the world, for filling your life with warmth only to leave it chilling cold like it always has been.
and one more mistake later, you throw the arm of your lady on the ground, frowning at it with a groan escaping your throat.
you’re not handling this well.
then you remember namjoon’s words, take breaks when you aren’t motivated and give it your all when you are. you feel anything but motivated so you decide to take a ride down han river for an hour and come back to your sculpture.
you warily eye the door to your art studio, you won’t tell anyone but you’ve been secretly hoping for a certain someone to burst through the door clumsily with fumbling steps and words, and you’re left dejected every time it turns out to be anyone but him.
your lilac bike is the only thing in the world that shows you mercy, the only thing that gives you the freedom to let go and you’re grateful that you chose it and not some stuffy train or bus.
you hastily throw your bike to rest on the tree adjacent to your bench and soak in the cold wind that surrounds you, no one but a few people with pets pass in front of you and even with the grey skies showing signs of a heavy rain, and the wind that chills your bones, you have never felt more at peace in these past two days than right now.
maybe you should just start getting used to being lonely again.
it’s not that bad, at least not on this bench and bike you’ve grown so fond of.
“as much as i love seeing you here, i was trying to ignore you” you hear from behind you and you don’t turn around, you know that it’s namjoon, and you’re not sure if he’s being as serious as he sounds.
“i can leave” you mumble, getting up from the bench.
“no, stay.” he appears in front of you and sits you back down before settling beside you.
“it was stupid of me to think that i could forget you simply by ignoring you, especially when i don’t want to forget.” he doesn’t sound like he’s talking to you, more talking to himself but you still listen, with your heart caught in your throat and your palms unusually sweaty even in this cold weather.
“what are you trying to say?” you sound annoyed and you are slightly, because he keeps mumbling to himself and you don’t want to get your hopes high just for him to leave you on this bench.
“i’m saying that, i don’t care if our time is limited”.
there it is, hope.
with soaring hope in your chest and eyes, you finally look at him for the first time since he’s come here.
“i don’t care because we’ll just make the most out of our time, i want to know all of you before you leave me, it’s dangerous to say that i don’t care even if it hurts, but i don’t have it in me to be scared of that right now, i’m only scared of losing you while you’re still here.” you are at a loss of words as namjoon spills his feelings on you, and the hope that soared through your chest reaches the sky when you process what he says.
but how hurt will you be at the end?
you’ve been hurt before; you can handle it. at least you think you can.
because how could you ever say no to namjoon when he’s offering you a key to the treasure of memories you’ve always wanted to open?
“now, i understand why you write songs” is the only thing you can say with your choked up voice and teary eyes, and namjoon, like always, is there to wipe your tears away.
“i’ll keep writing if you listen to them, wherever you are.”
-
with each day that you spend with namjoon, it gets harder to part ways at the end, whether it be right at the front of your door or at the studio, saying goodbye, even for a few hours, felt painful and it was evident that namjoon felt the same way too.
the grip on your hand tightens as leaves fall around you two, you’re back near han river and namjoon is busy writing lyrics in front of you while you sketch away anything that comes to your mind. you don’t feel as frantic about your sculpture now that you’ve finished the outline of her body, you’re going somewhere with it and you couldn’t be happier.
“what do you think of this?” one thing you love about sitting by namjoon as he writes his lyrics, is how he constantly reaches out to you for your opinion, you feel very special that your opinion matters to him.
you take the notebook from his hands and glance over the lyrics, it’s just as tear-jerking but eye-opening as all of his songs are, you hand it back to him with a grin on your face and that’s how he knows that you love it.
“i wanted to ask you this, how did you feel when i didn’t talk to you for those few days?” the question is sudden but you’re not caught off guard, you knew it was only a matter of time before it would come up.
“lonely, just lonely.” was your honest answer.
“how did being lonely feel?” he asks as he continues scribbling on his notebook.
“familiar but not that bad” you know that your answer is straight forward enough to jerk namjoon’s scribbles to a pause. he looks guilty as he raises his head to you and you are taken aback when he takes your hand in his and rubs circles on the back of it.
“now that i’m here, you never have to get used to or settle for ‘not that bad’, okay?”
“okay.” you smile at him and he smiles back, you feel content, happy even that you could find someone here, that you found namjoon here.
-
as weeks go by, both you and namjoon get busier, him with a deadline for a demo and you with your sculpture, it’s only a matter of two months before you have to send it for evaluation and even as you are finishing your sculpture, your heart is beating a million times faster, both out of excitement and fear.
your lady looks like every bit of the royalty that she is, at least so far, the cloth that drapes along her body and flies in the air, looks delicate, soft to touch, easy to break, and you couldn’t be prouder about it.
you hear your phone ring and a large smile takes over your face when you see who’s calling.
“hey, i missed you” namjoon can hear the pout in your voice as you speak and he internally coos.
“you don’t have to anymore, i’m outside your studio, i was hoping to take you somewhere since we haven’t seen each other for a few days now.”
“you’re outside?” you glance out the window to see namjoon waiting in a car, he waves his hand when he catches you looking.
you look like crap right now.
“okay, give me a minute or five..” you trail off and cut the call before he can object.
you run from your studio to the washroom with your makeup bag, frantically powdering your oily face and touching up your faded lipstick, you swiped your hands across your hair and pray internally that it won’t poof up. and once you look half-decent, you pat your cheeks roughly and run back to the studio, shoving your makeup bag into a desk and grabbing your usual bag before running out the door.
“are you okay? you look a little out of breath” he asks as you slide into the car, while desperately trying to catch your breath, you hurriedly nod, pulling your seatbelt on.
“okay” he laughs and starts the car.
a calm conversation flows between you two as namjoon drives you to whatever mystery place he wants to take you and you couldn’t feel more at peace with your windows down, making your hair the mess you were afraid it would be but you didn’t care, with namjoon right next to you, nothing else seemed to matter and it didn’t, no one has mattered to you the way namjoon has.
the sun has almost set and you excitedly take pictures of the ever-changing colors of the sky and show them to namjoon who marvels over them with you.
you could get used to this.
you could totally get used to this.
namjoon stops his car right at a small lake, with trees all around you and you can’t hear the loud city or traffic anymore at all, it’s just you, him, rippling water and fresh air. you shiver as you get down the car with namjoon, tugging your jacket closer.
“normally, it would be ideal if it was summer right now but we can’t wait for that” namjoon tells you as he pushes his jacket off his body and you widen your eyes at him.
“you’re crazy, don’t tell me that we’re getting close to that” you point to the lake with quivering lips and namjoon shrugs, removing his boots and wincing at the cold ground.
“this is a bad idea; we will be sick for days.” you shake your head, refusing to let go of your jacket and namjoon laughs at your worried face as he pushes his jeans up.
“and after that, we will be fine. so, shall we?” namjoon reasons and extends his hand towards you, and all your worries about being sick, about probably catching a nasty cold for weeks that could hinder your work, fly away. you sigh in defeat and unwillingly push your jacket away, already cursing everything out and namjoon is having the time of his life, watching you struggle.
“don’t you think taking our clothes off would be better? we will just have wet clothes at the end of this” you grumble as you take your shoes off.
“if you want to take your clothes off, i don’t mind” comes namjoon’s cheeky reply and you pick your jacket from the hood of his car and throw it on his grinning face.
“you know that i didn’t mean it like that” you flush red, both because of the weather and other reasons that namjoon is very aware of.
“of course, come on now, it’s worse just standing here.” and before you fully prepare yourself, namjoon pulls you with him to the edge of the lake, dipping his toe in and shivering, encouraging you to do the same but you know that if you did that, you will be running back to the car.
so, with a smirk, you take your hand from namjoon and push him in, giggling when he screams and the splashing water lands around you, he comes back up, completely drenched as you double over in laughter, he shakes his head at you, ruffling his hair out and before you realize, he’s at the shore, leaning against it with his arms crossed and watching you with a small smile.
“are you going to leave me alone here?” he pouts at you.
“maybe” you tease him and then he’s jumping out of the water, coming towards you with a determined look on his face and you struggle to keep your eyes on his face because his clothes are literally transparent right now. and before you know it, you’re pushed into the water followed closely by namjoon who jumps in next to you.
you gasp for air as you come up, the cold water freezing your nerves but you’re laughing, you’re laughing out of the pure joy and adrenaline that flows through you and namjoon’s laughing with you.
and you don’t think you have been this happy in your life, in your whole entire life, being frozen to your bones is the happiest moment. you start to splash water on namjoon who retaliates by scooping up water and throwing it right on your face.
just when you’re about to start kicking water on him, his arms wrap around you, forehead pressing against yours with a sigh and you stop moving.
“i don’t want to leave this place.” he whispers to you, even with the cold weather, his breath is hot and his body heat is warming you slowly.
in this cold world, both figuratively and physically, namjoon made you feel like the warmest sunlight.
i don’t want to leave you, are the words right at the tip of your tongue.
“we’ll die if we don’t get out soon” you joke instead and namjoon laughs, pulling away to cup your face in his hands, fingers smoothing over your face and your eyes flutter close at the gentle action.
“is there really no way i can make you stay?” you want to cry at how sincere and desperate he sounds.
“no, but you can make my stay worthwhile like you are doing right now” your answer is honest but you’re just as desperate as he is, you don’t want to go home where you have nothing but a monotonous, color-less life but you have no choice.
how can you say goodbye to this face that made the cruel world warmer in every sense?
as a tear escapes your eye, namjoon doesn’t wipe it away like he usually does, he curls his fingers around your cheek and pulls you closer until you can feel all of him, and this time, he kisses your tears away, slowly, like he has all the time in the world and your hands curl around his arms, gripping him like he will go away if you don’t hold him tight enough all while the water flows steadily around you.
he pulls away with a grin and you smile back almost instantly.
namjoon has always thought that people were more capable of hurting than loving but looking at you, shining under the stars and smiling at him like he’s the only person in the world, he believes people are just as capable of loving as they are of hurting.
“i have wanted to do that for so long now” he mutters.
“why didn’t you?”
“it didn’t feel right until now.”
“was it okay..for you?” he asks with pursed lips and you giggle at his nervous expression.
“i don’t think i’ve felt more alive in my whole life.” he beams at your answer, patting your head making you giggle again.
“well, we can just keep doing that then” he exclaims cheerfully and you cheer with him, already reaching for his face.
and again, it’s just you, him and the flowing water that freezes your bones.
with namjoon, seoul doesn’t feel lonely.
not at all.
-
you are the most dressed up you’ve ever been since you’ve come to seoul, with a simple fitting black dress, minimal jewelry and strappy heels, you feel confident standing next to your falling lady which lays vertically on the ground.
you are finally done with her, all of her, her elegant face, her sheer clothes that fly in the air as she falls, her hands grabbing onto open air, she looks desperate to be saved but she looks beautiful even on the ground.
and you’re proud, for the first time in ages, you feel like you have created something that can truly convey what you feel.
bliss, is the only thing you feel even with your sculpture that’s done and ready to present to your teachers and other enthusiasts, but your attention is divided as you keep checking the door to see if namjoon will bust in because you really want him the first person to see it.
“here, joon, here!” you wave your hand frantically in the full studio to try and catch namjoon’s attention who just enters through the door, he locates you in the room and quickly makes his way over to you.
the first thing he does is give you a warm hug and pushes a bouquet of delicate flowers into your hands, grinning proudly at you, he looks so proud and he hasn’t even seen the sculpture.
“you ready?” you call out excitedly, circling around your sculpture which lays under a thin blanket. namjoon shifts on his feet with a huge smile on his face.
“just remember, me showing you this is like you playing your music for me” you inform him.
“i know i will love it either way” he shrugs and you pause from lifting the cloth, narrowing your eyes at him.
“how are you so sure?”
“it’s something you poured your heart into, so i will love it” he answers sincerely and you feel flustered with his compliment, you cough awkwardly and lift the cloth off your lady.
for a few seconds, namjoon doesn’t say anything or change his expression, he circles your lady silently with observant eyes and you shift on your feet, your lips feel dry and you feel nervous all over, because his opinion matters most to you in this city, maybe even in this world.
“it’s you” he mumbles, just loud enough for you to hear.
“what do you mean?”
“you made yourself” he concludes and you blink at him, not knowing what to say.
“she’s beautiful even when she’s falling, even when she’s alone” he starts walking while he talks and stops right in front of you.
“just like you, you’re beautiful, however you are, you are the most beautiful.” you swallow the knot in your throat, no one has ever called you beautiful the way namjoon has.
“i don’t know what to say.”
“then don’t say anything, that’s alright” he lets out a breathy chuckle at your red cheeks.
“you know you don’t have to flatter me, i already like you” you tease and he shrugs.
“doesn’t hurt to get you to like me even more, right?” he winks at you and you playfully roll your eyes.
“but as much as i love you, that wasn’t my attempt to flatter you at all, you are just that good of an artist, and you are also the muse for my lyrics these days” he shyly admits the last part and you feel everything you have wanted to feel since day one of entering seoul.
namjoon truly did open your treasure of memories, and god, it will be so hard to leave him behind.
and he understood what you felt when you created her, you felt just as desperate, just as helpless as she did when you created her but you have handled it with as much grace as you could, namjoon was probably the only person who saw that.
“she is you, and i love her, like i love you.”
-
your presentation goes swimmingly, your teacher loved it, she took many pictures of it to show your potential to her superiors so they can extend your scholarship, and she did mention that the sculpture will be presented in a main art event. so that was definitely a win for you. your intrusive thoughts bother you from time to time, but they don’t hurt you as much as they used to, you don’t know if you have gotten stronger or your thoughts have gotten weaker, but you know that you’re better than you were just a few months ago.
your scholarship did not get extended, you expected that. your piece was good but some were just better, you didn’t beat yourself up like you thought you would, namjoon didn’t let you anyway.
speaking of namjoon, he’s all you have thought of now that your presentation is over, because he’s literally with you every day, putting aside his work to try and spend the last, few days with you, properly.
you’re currently sitting on the hood of his car, on top of a mountain that overlooks the city, he is stood in between your legs, feeding ice cream and listening intently to you as you keep rambling about how trust is so fickle.
“the thing is, if we’re wary of someone or a habit of theirs, it’s very easy to lose trust the second they mess up even the slightest, even if it isn’t fair to them, i just think that’s how people are.”
“you’re right, trust is very rare, you can’t say you trust someone easily, because trust is built on not time, not the relationship, but the people involved” he pauses to feed you and continues.
“i will always trust you though” you cheekily interrupt and he laughs.
“and i will always trust you.” he concludes and feeds you one last spoon while you smile gleefully at him. but then he sighs, stepping back from you and shaking his head lightly and you frown at his dejected stance.
“what is it, joon?”
“our time is almost up” he says with a sad smile and your heart tightens in your chest at his words, you know that your time is almost up, you’ve been trying to ignore that fact for so long now but you only have a day or so left with namjoon.
“before i leave” you scoot closer to him, breath stuttering at the close proximity you share with him as he eagerly waits for you to speak.
“i want you to take all of me” you have never felt as vulnerable as you do, whispering those words to namjoon under the moonlight that shines over you.
“you sure about that?” even with his eyes blown and throat closing around nothing, namjoon needs your permission to claim you.
“never been more sure about anything else in my life” you give him the permission he wants and who is he to say no to you?
-
waking up next to namjoon, in his room, wearing his t-shirt is something you wish you could do every single day but you’re out of time, you have been for a while.
“i don’t want you to leave” is the first thing namjoon says to you in the morning.
“i don’t want to leave you” is your answer, you’re no longer hesitant to say it. he gazes at you with such intensity because he really can’t believe he has to lose you just when he’s had all of you.
“how can i ever say goodbye to you?” he pulls you into him, burying his face into your neck and his sheets shift around you, it takes everything in you to not cling onto him for eternity.
“it’s okay, we had time” you mumble helplessly once you pull away from him.
“not a lot but we had time” you reassure him and this time, he’s the one who gets teary eyed. you feel your heart break at the way his face reddens as he keeps himself from crying.
“we’ll be okay” you whisper, wiping his tears as they escape his eyes, and hug him again, letting him cry into your shoulder, you feel your own sobs caught in your throat as namjoon cries on you.
“i’m sorry it had to be this way. i’m sorry i can’t stay.” you apologize with tears finally escaping your eyes and neither of you have the energy to wipe each other’s tears anymore, you only can cry and hope that time will be kind enough to stretch itself to keep you two together.
“i’m sorry i can’t come with you” comes his own apology.
“thank you for loving me, all of me” as he says that you break down in sobs because how will you ever find someone who loves you, truly loves you? you learned love with namjoon, you’re also learning goodbyes with him, but love was so easy, why were goodbyes so hard?
“thank you for being letting me be your muse.” you brush his cheeks with your fingers, trying to remember every feature of his before you have to let go. and he does the same, with sleepy but cautious eyes, he traces all of your features over and over again, like he’s forcing his body to keep you in his mind forever.
“is this really goodbye?” he asks one last time even if he knows the answer.
“i wish it wasn’t.”
-
it’s been six months since you left.
namjoon feels empty as he arranges the cups in his bakery, he sighs too often for it to be normal because every time he moves, his body reminds him of you, everything about you is etched onto every inch of him and he doesn’t think he will ever move on.
he still circles around the art studio from time to time, pathetically hoping to catch a glance of you working hard on your sculpture, looking up at him with a smile and then crashing into him to become one. he still visits han river just to recall every memory you’ve ever shared.
but he can’t bring himself to go to the lake, the lake where he kissed you like he’s always wanted to, he can’t go there knowing you will not be going with him.
he misses you. every nerve in him screams for you. his friends have been trying to get him to move on but namjoon doesn’t want to move on.
“welc-“ namjoon starts his formal greeting when he hears the door creak open, only for his mouth to hang open when he sees who is at the entrance, he races from behind the counter to rush to the entrance with wide eyes and confused but overjoyed grin.
“it’s actually you, oh my god” he whispers breathlessly as he reaches to touch your cheek and you smile tearfully at him. every night of hoping that you will be back in his arms feels worthwhile when you wrap yourself around him with a happy sigh. he caresses your hair, still not fully registering that you’re actually with him right now.
“so, what happened wa-“ you begin to explain why you’re back in the lively city of seoul and namjoon gently shushes you.
“doesn’t matter, you’re here, that’s all i care about” and with that, you melt yourself back into him, your fingers tracing patterns on his sweater, you missed him so much.
“we need to go to the lake again, i miss freezing with you” he jokes lightly but you know the desperation behind his words, he must have been waiting so long to take you.
“i am ready to freeze my bones with you again” you giggle and he pats your head with a fond smile.
“how long will you stay this time?” namjoon asks, and you notice fear in his voice, you lean back to give him your biggest smile yet. he has nothing to be scared of anymore and you don’t either.
→fireman!namjoon and paramedic!y/n au (warning: drunken sex, oral, etc.) → 11k words; part 01|part 2 |fin. → As a surgeon forced to volunteer as a paramedic in the Seoul Fire Department during an unfortunate probation incident, your one and only goal was to get to work, do your thing, and get the hell home and back to your original high-salary job. But when the SFD’s Chief is the incredibly attractive, cocky, and persistent Kim Namjoon, things start to get heated.
You wake up to the feeling of sweat running down your skin, and then the inability of moving your arms and legs. As soon as you start moving your head, you hear Yugyeom’s voice.
“Y/N! Y/N, can you hear me?”
Your hazy vision focuses finally as you squint into the bright red light in the room. “Yeah,” you croak out, your throat feeling like a desert. “Where am I?”
“Holy shit,” Yugyeom collapses into a chair beside you, and as you look around the room, you notice that you’re in your own hospital, and you are completely wrapped up in a foil blanket, with two heat lamps shining down on you.
You cringe, forehead beaded with sweat. “Can you get me out of this?”
“Oh yeah,” Yugyeom jumps up and begins unwinding you from the foil blanket, reaching up to turn off one of the lamps and then handing you a towel. You frown as you see another gurney wheeled in next to yours, but the curtain is blocking your view. That gurney is also surrounded by heat lamps as well. “What happened?”
“You should apologize to your pussy right now, it’s her funeral.”
Yugyeom was all of us in that first part and I loved it, I loved him! His dynamic with OC was so fun and entertaining. But ok, part 2 surprised me in so many ways (not the smut, though; I just knew it was going to be divine). OC unraveling was a sight to behold bc even then, she’s straightforward and I know that’s attractive to many (her whining was hilarious).
But the angst hit me here - the fear, the worry, the desire for something to last. You ached for them but I totally loved the commitment of namjoon, to his job and to her, and how at the end of the day, he just wants to be happy with her. He’s so commanding but tender and loving. He’s certain but vulnerable, and I liked how they complemented each other. And their intimate moments were to die for this was quite the read and something I really enjoyed!
Pairing:hyungline (seokjin, namjoon, yoongi, hoseok) x reader
Genre:family/domestic AU, fluff, comedy
Summary: You have seven kids. Four husbands and three toddlers. So yeah, seven kids.
Tags: EXTREME domestic bliss, domestic fluff, husband!hyung line, baby!maknae line, established relationship, protectiveness, comedy, slice of life, seokjin is in a state of constant and overwhelming fondness, namjoon should never be allowed in a kitchen, yoongi has tattoos, hoseok is a humble chaebol, maknae line are demons (toddlers)
On your monthly date night with Namjoon, Yoongi is driving the kids out to eat when he supposes, casually, “They’re probably just cooking.”
Seokjin snorts from beside him, snobbish, tugging at the knot of his tie with one hand, “Yeah, as if Namjoon knows how to cook.”
“Namjoon appa says he has a magical love potion,” Jimin offers from the backseat, where Taehyung is doodling something suspicious onto Jungkook’s cheek. “Namjoon appa says that’s why he’s umma’s favorite, because he gives her lots and lots of it.”
“Baby, he’s not umma’s favorite,” Seokjin laughs, and then thinks about it.
He pauses.
Glances at Yoongi.
“What magical love potion,” Yoongi says slowly, gaze settling onto the rear-view mirror.
Jimin’s too busy doodling on Jungkook’s other cheek to respond.
“That reminds me,” Hoseok chimes in thoughtfully, voice splintered through the speakerphone, “he did ask where to buy mineral oil the other day.”
Yoongi blinks.
Tentatively, insinuating nothing whatsoever, Seokjin checks the security of his seatbelt.
And Yoongi’s foot hits bottom on the gas pedal.
“YAH,” Seokjin screams, as the car bounces over a pothole, “OUR CHILDREN ARE IN THIS VEHICLE, MIN YOON–”
“Faster!” Jungkook cries out, eyes sparkling, as they rip past a yellow light, “Appa vroom vroom!”
Seokjin parks four little heads before the front porch, including Yoongi’s, and says, “We need to be quiet. We promised umma and Namjoon appa we wouldn’t be home, right?”
To illustrate, he puts his finger to his lip, glancing at the brigade for alignment.
Good little spawns of Satan, Jungkook and Jimin nod at full attention.
Taehyung just picks his nose and ~secretly wipes the booger on the back of Yoongi’s new Gucci shirt.
Only because he’s a loving father, and only because Yoongi owns an alarming amount of Gucci, Seokjin gives Taehyung nothing more than a warning look.
And maybe a wink of encouragement.
Very much encouraged, Taehyung deposits a worm in Yoongi’s back pocket too.
Okay.
Maybe too much.
Seokjin kind of wonders how he came into this parenting thing, anyways.
“Don’t let umma hear us coming,” he repeats.
“We won’t,” Jungkook promises, face angelic and very… coarsely decorated.
“We’re Team Ninja,” Jimin agrees, surreptitiously pocketing his marker.
Incredulous, Seokjin snaps around to check for literally one split second , and the first thing Team Ninja does is tear through the front door howling like banshees, like pack dinosaurs, like the dogs of the underworld, “UMMAAAA WE’RE HOOOOME!”
“What the fuck did you do?” Yoongi hisses, poking his head out of one of the scrubs beside the side window.
“When did you get there?” Seokjin scream-whispers back, and lunges off the deck as soon as he hears you coming.
Seokjin’s barely scrambled onto his knees, face smushed into Yoongi’s chest, when the door swings open.
“Seokjin? Yoongi?” You call out, “Why are the kids home?”
“You need to tell her,” Yoongi advises, crawling away on all fours as if he played no part in this.
“No,” Seokjin snaps back, crawling after him, voice pitched so high it actually comes out in squeaks. “You dragged us here! You tell her!”
“Seokjin appa and Yoongi appa are in the bushes,” comes Jimin’s voice, innocent, sweet, horribly traitorous.
Seokjin peers through the shrubs and at the entrance, where he finds Jimin riding Namjoon’s shoulder. Taehyung and Jungkook are sitting on one stupidly gorilla-like hand each. Beside Namjoon, you’ve got a frying pan in one hand and a spatula in the other, and you decide, coldly, “If your appas like to sleep in the bushes, I suppose they could.”
“Could we sleep in the bushes too?” Taehyung asks, perking up.
“Baby,” says Namjoon, fondly, with all the love in the world, and then a measured dose of menace, “Only bad people sleep in bushes.”
“But I always sleep with Seokjin appa,” Jungkook huffs, pouty.
Eldest hyung Jimin bops Jungkook’s head with one tiny sock-wrapped foot and declares, generously, as if he hasn’t been furtively worming under Seokjin’s other arm every other night, “You can sleep with me, you big baby.”
“So it’s settled,” Namjoon concludes, voice dry, in his dumb petty CEO voice that impresses no one, really, “don’t let the bed bugs bite, hyung.”
Kim Namjoon’s got a way of talking anyone into anything.
The kids, all three of them, as much as you love them–with your entire heart–were Namjoon’s idea.
He didn’t ask for it, of course not. Not when he knew Seokjin sneezed at the sight of children and Yoongi had once picked up his niece with a garbage disposal stick and Hoseok only wanted daughters and you had told him, explicitly, on your first date, “Kids are not in the picture.”
No, instead the first thing Namjoon did was buy baby shoes.
“They’re just cute,” he said, whenever anyone asked. “Small shoes! How nifty is that!”
Seokjin floated away as soon as he heard the word nifty, and Yoongi never cared enough for shoes or babies to partake in the discussion anyways.
“Tell me more,” Hoseok demanded, intrigued.
Namjoon did.
Two months later Hoseok said rather abruptly, at breakfast, “I guess a son would be OK too.”
“No kids,” Yoongi warned gruffly, breezing past with a cup of coffee.
“You heard the man,” Seokjin said triumphantly, tailing Yoongi out the door.
So the second thing Namjoon did was bring his nephew over for a weekend.
“Who’s this?” You asked in baby talk, picking the teeny weeny toddler up into your arms. The little thing crooned and giggled as you looked it in the eye.
Seokjin, only because he wanted your attention, asked you “Who’s this?” in the same baby talk, then proceeded to lift you up and into his arms.
And then there were two happy soft giggling things in his arms.
Seokjin looked at you, looked at Namjoon’s dumb-looking-blood-relative, and his mouth formed a trembly little “o.”
The next time Yoongi said, elbowing his way through the kitchen crowd at half-past seven in the morning, “No kids,” Seokjin just peeped over at you.
And smiled.
The last thing Namjoon did was easy. He picked you up after your 24-hour shift at the hospital and, instead of depositing you straight into bed as he always did, pulled up alongside the Han River.
Dawn was breaking over the water then, and Namjoon held your hand to his lips and he said, voice soft and firm and gentle and low, “(Y/N), I want to make a family with you.”
“We do have a family though,” you told him. “You, me, Hobi, Yoongi, Seokjin.”
“I want to make something with you that lasts beyond time,” Namjoon said, “that is born out of my love for you.”
“Ew, cringy,” you said, but conceded, after a bit, “we can think about it.”
That was the last thing Namjoon had to do, because he knew Yoongi could never say no to you.
“I’m thinking about maybe having kids,” you told him, one day, when the two of you went out for a walk. Hoseok and Seokjin were loitering not too far behind, accosting an ice cream truck for discounts even though Hoseok probably owned the company that owned the truck.
Yoongi fell silent.
Three steps later, he asked, nose scrunched up, fingers coming to twine yours, “When should we start?”
Sometime close to midnight, a BMW pulls up into the drive-way.
Hoseok’s laughing before he even gets out of the car.
“Wow,” he says, “awesome,” he says, “this is so funny,” he says, “you really went and did it,” he says.
“Are you going to let us in?” Seokjin asks, hopeful, huddled up beside Yoongi for heat.
An actual bastard, Hoseok just captures the moment with a selfie.
And then waves goodbye and locks the door.
Yoongi squints.
“I’m divorcing all of you,” Seokjin sighs, mistreated, very sad, very abused.
Not a minute later, the front door opens a crack. You take half a step out, silk robe tied loosely around the waist, face bare, hair wet and still dripping with water, and call out in a tiny voice, “hey.”
Yoongi actually darts up so fast Seokjin wonders if he’s been conserving his entire life’s energy for this moment.
“Hi,” he says, cool, composed, so awkward. “We’re sorry.”
“Yeah,” Seokjin says, climbing up beside him, dusting the grass off his now-green kneecaps, “That was our bad.”
In the dark, it is hard to see your expression, but Seokjin can hear the laughter in your voice when you decide, “Come on, the leftovers are getting cold.”
And Seokjin, like he somehow always seems to around you, falls in love again.
He jogs up, around the shrubs and up the walk way. He grabs your hand in his and says, “Considering the leftovers, I will think about forgiving you.”
And then he glances over at Yoongi, who’s making his way up slowly, as if he doesn’t care.
Only Seokjin can see the way Yoongi’s eyeing your other hand, and he knows Yoongi’s taken it when he tugs you and him both into the house, mumbling something too soft to be heard.
“Appa,” comes a small voice, from the banister.
Seokjin glances up, and Jimin and Jungkook are slumped against each other at the foot of the stairs, Namjoon snoring against the railing behind them.
Taking big, careful steps off the stairs, Jungkook comes to wrap his tiny arms around Seokjin’s calf, cheek smushing into his knee as Seokjin lugs him forward with each step.
“Kookie asked me to let you in,” you say, glancing down at Jungkook.
Jungkook just smushes his face harder against Seokjin’s knee, and then, the moment you step away, he peers up at Seokjin.
His eyes are glinting in the dark as he whispers, “Appa, can we sleep in the shrubs with you?”
“Wait,” Seokjin says, brows twitching, “no–”
“But please,” Jimin says, accosting Seokjin’s other leg.
“We’re all bad people,” Taehyung admits, coming to hold onto Seokjin’s hand, effectively bolting him in place.
Yoongi just snorts.
“Goodnight,” he says, blowing the little demons-in-training a bunch of small kisses, then meets Seokjin’s gaze. “Godspeed.”
“Wait,” Seokjin mouths, eyes wide, in panic, “Wait, Yoongi-ah.”
Yoongi lifts his brows.
And, without another word, abandons him.
“Can I bring candy,” Jungkook asks, tiny, puppy-like as he shakes Seokjin’s leg, “Please?”
Kim Seokjin is divorcing this fuckery by yesterday.
OK so. hear me out. in this funky college AU you have to move in with your brother (hoseok)’s bff namjoon because you’ve just moved to seoul from gwangju and namjoon’s the only other person you know
intellectual himbo (aka namjoon) is a prof at seouldae. and in your memories, he’s this objectively cool guy who goes skiing in the alps during christmas break and memorized 40 digits of pi
except, see, in namjoon’s memories, you’re still a four-year old kid who literally cries at everything WHICH IS WHY even though he is generally cool as a cucumber around you, the second you make a slightly risqué joke, namjoon’s low EQ professor hat launches into a sex ed sermon no one understands. so you roll your eyes and play on your phone and then namjoon starts lecturing about phones because the only thing he does is ride his dumb bike and read
and like for 2.5 days it’s fine. the two of you sort it out. (table read:
namjoon is traumatized by his friend’s four-year old sister making dirty jokes
you live in a general state of annoyance because namjoon’s giant fucking body blocks every entrance in which he attempts to exist)
BUT THEN ONE FATEFUL DAY, namjoon breaks his razor and ~temporarily uses your leg razor to shave. but he forgets to clean it and leaves beard specs in the blades, yielding you no choice but to revenge march from the shower into his room and dump water into his bed (in your tiny towel) (very tiny towel) (but it’s fine because you have officially ahjusshi zoned namjoon)
—
so the next morning the two of you both show up at school with eye bags
yoongi asks namjoon what’s wrong
namjoon says, without looking up from his book, “a spawn of satan moved in”
—
all your friends think he’s INCREDIBLY hot, like they actually always want to study group at your house just so they can moon at professor kim
and everyone thinks he’s into you
but you’re just like lmfao “get out, he’s old and gross and sings in the shower”
and namjoon just picks a booger and flicks it to you and tells you to “do your fucking homework, toddler”
“passive aggressive asshole,” you shout after him, and rip off your sock and throw it at him
“wow, you like him back,” jimin says
“please,” you snort, genuinely offended, as a Person of Taste
—
let it be known though that the status quo is generally not terrible. specifically, living with your professor has its perks.
“hey, namjoon” you smile, sweet
“yeah”
you scoot a little closer, “you’re really handsome”
namjoon lifts his brows and sighs, unimpressed, “what do you want”
“do you have a hint for the last question on this assignment,” you ask, puppy-eyed, aegyo on max
“what doesn’t kill you makes you smarter,” namjoon informs you
you sneer and bash your head against the wall “ass”
“stop hurting your head,” namjoon tells you, “you can’t afford to lose more brain cells”
“you virgin, this is why you never get laid”
namjoon just laughs and winks at you
you gape, disgusted and horrified, “ew, god,” and slam your door shut
—
namjoon does a lot of not thinking around you.
most of the not thinking is about your sex life.
which you fully possess, judging by the weird noises coming out of your bedroom at night.
and at day.
and at 7AM in the morning, while namjoon is making his morning coffee and trying to grade your C- midterm–
and actually, WHY IS A FOUR-YEAR OLD HAVING SEX WHEN SHE SHOULD BE STUDYING TO NOT FAIL HIS IMPORTANT CLASS–
anyways no. it’s fine. namjoon doesn’t care.
—
but then one day you break up with your boyfriend because he’s 19 and an asshole the way 19-year olds sometimes are. so you come home crying and namjoon asks you what’s wrong
and you’re like “I dumped taehyung”
and namjoon just sighs and pats your back and says, without looking up from his book, “good job”
then you burst into tears
namjoon just puts your face into his shoulder, the way he always did when you were a kid, and you use his shirt as a tissue
“this is a new shirt,” namjoon reminds you, gently
“shut up,” you sob, blowing all your snot and issues into his cashmere-wool blend, “also I need a hug”
so namjoon hugs you
“men are trash,” you decide
“all trash,” he agrees, patting your head, until you fall asleep on his shoulder
—
“why are you not in class” namjoon texts you
“cramps”
“leg cramps?”
“eat shit and die you fucking idiot” you respond
namjoon doesn’t answer
then a few hours later, namjoon’s home, dropped off take out and a hot water bag and pain killers and tampons and awkwardly runs off before you can say thanks
“low eq,” you mutter
but your face
why is it smiling
—-
six months later, namjoon still does a LOT of lecturing about career planning but after all of that he is still the dude who picks your drunk ass up from the club when you go out with your ~bicurious friend jungkook
and, even though you didn’t ask for it, he is also the dude who holds your hair as you barf in the toilet
but only the next morning do you figure out he didn’t sleep last night because he had to write a grant proposal but spent 80% of the evening holding your hair
“uh,” you mumble, mildly ashamed, and hand him a coffee. “sorry”
he just tosses a hangover drink at you without looking in your direction “drink some water toddler”
—
jungkook asks you out again
namjoon takes the phone out of your hand and writes out, “no."
"why,” you start
“because,” he says, then doesn’t continue
“because what!!!” you yell after him, “jungkook’s cute, jackass!!! you’re ruining my future!!!”
“do your homework for once!!” he yells back, “or else you’ll have no future, dumbass!!!!”
“lick my balls!!!” you scream after him “I’m going to be a trophy wife!!!”
“grow some first!!!” he screams back “toddler!!!"
—
“are you playing hard to get,” jungkook texts you later
you debate it, and because you’re honestly a bit of a brat, “yah”
“lol,” he writes, “wanna come over?”
“hmm,” you write, rolling in your bed. "maybe”
—
jungkook texts you to let you know you’re pretty in that special genuine jungkook way, and you preen a little and bat your eyes at your phone, and there are shoujo anime flowers blooming into a whole glittery wallpaper behind you, on the front of which is namjoon’s stoney, unimpressed face
and namjoon’s stoney face says, “stop flirting and study, numb nuts. that kid’s too dumb for you.”
“just tell me what’s on the exam,” you beg
“that would be cheating,” namjoon says
“jackass,” you flip him the bird, “boring”
“I raised you better than this!” he calls after you
—
you don’t ever think of him as a man though, because you grew up together.
and he’s hoseok’s best friend, which makes any kind of relationship with him weirdly incestuous by default.
and he’s got a cool girlfriend and, compared to her, you’re just the snotty nosed kid on the block who his mom forced him to baby sit
and he likes to joke that he used to have to change your diapers or whatever the fuck while he steals bites of your toast (as you’re eating it)
…and he likes to wipe his wet hands on his shirt
…and he looks like a slob
“nasty,” you tell jimin
“hot,” jimin corrects you
—
PhD candidate min yoongi says, “she’s smart”
“yeah” namjoon agrees
“long legs”
namjoon nods, “I guess”
“she’s pretty”
namjoon narrows his eyes, “she’s ok”
“you have her number?” yoongi asks
namjoon crosses his arms, “you won’t like her”
and yoongi asks, reasonably, “why?”
so namjoon says, “she has small tits.”
yoongi frowns. “I like small tits. you know this. big tits intimidate me.”
and namjoon explodes. “STOP OBJECTIFYING WOMEN, GOD!!!"
—
anyways, come February, namjoon’s celebrating valentine’s with his hot girlfriend and you’ve just been dumped by boyfriend #234. and it’s not like you meant for namjoon to know, but somehow he finds out.
so he leaves his cool doctor girlfriend in the middle of their date and comes rushing to drive you home in the rain
but you, being a sane person, refuse to get in the car
so namjoon just slowly drives beside you, holding up 105948109283 cars behind him (and every other car drives by cussing at him, and then namjoon cusses back, and now you HAVE to get into the car because you can’t be the asshole holding up half of gangnam)
and namjoon helps you get into the car, like he actually comes OUT of his car (despite the heavy rain) to open your door and throw your backpack into the backseat
and you’re annoyed, you’re SO ANNOYED BY THIS EMBARRASSING AHJUSSHI
except the rain that’s pouring down is sticking to his shirt, lining his back, his spine, the flex of his muscles
then he gets into the car and leans over you, half over your lap as he reaches for his gym bag under your feet and takes out his towel
and you can feel the heat of his chest through his shirt on your thighs
and your heart’s in your fucking mouth
because. was he always hot like this.
(answer: yes)
—
you go home and snoop through his photo album, pictures of the three musketeers through elementary and high school (hoseok and seokjin and namjoon), and for some reason all you can see is namjoon’s broad fucking chest and his dumb dimples
and you find that picture of him carrying you on his back and, in that picture, you’re crying because there’s a scratch on your knee
and then you find another picture of namjoon kissing you on the forehead
you touch your forehead
and you think about namjoon’s mouth, in that weird incestuous way that makes your skin crawl, because WHAT IS YOUR BRAIN DOING–
and you can’t fall asleep
—
the next morning you don’t want to go to class
so you show up late
with sunglasses
namjoon flicks a chalk at you, hits you right on the forehead
a group of guys snort and you slump into your seat, shooting them unhinged bitch vibes so they stop and pretend like they saw nothing
"shit eating assholes,” you call them
“language,” namjoon says, up by the podium, then without blinking an eye, “turn to page 534”
and you can’t hear a thing because you… can’t stop staring at his back.
fuck.
—
but like, it’s actually logically weird, because you’re logically not supposed to find him attractive.
like how you’re not supposed to find hoseok attractive. or. or a bear attractive.
so you text jungkook again, because man-thot jungkook will help you forget
you dress up in a tight tank and shorts, strategically designed to help jungkook in his mission to wipe your RAM–
and run into namjoon in the doorway
namjoon just stares. and grits his jaw.
“I’ll be back late,” you tell him quickly, brushing past
he keeps staring
—
“namjoon tells me to tell you to put a jacket on or something,” hoseok texts you
“it’s like 36C out” you text back
“idk,” hoseok sends back “just do it, he’s getting annoying”
you don’t.
three hours later, professor kim seokjin calls you.
“YAH, PUT ON A JACKET,” he shouts, then hangs up.
—
the date with jungkook is fun, you laugh and dance and jimin’s there and the three of you are just grinding it up on the dance floor
but namjoon’s right, jungkook’s so… simple
so boring
he doesn’t even know what machevallian means
you text namjoon, bored, as the three of you kimchi squat outside the convenience store, sharing the same carton of banana milk
namjoon leaves you on read
“send me home” you tell jungkook
then when jungkook goes in for a kiss, you just pat his head “good dog”
—
suddenly, one day, just as you’re starting to find namjoon unattractive again, namjoon stops touching you
“what’s wrong” you ask him, scooting closer
namjoon scoots away faster, face red
“hey,” you start, about to blow in his ear
namjoon whips around so fast he almost bashes his face into yours
but this somehow sends him recoiling into the ground, as if you’re a live vessel of the actual bubonic plague
“i… i have… work…” he says, then scampers away
“yah!“ you shout after him, "your ice cream!”
“you eat it!” namjoon yells back
then as you’re just starting to eat it, namjoon hurries back and takes his spoon away, “I have cooties”
you stare. “what.”
“I,” namjoon starts, then looks really, abjectly, horribly confused
you narrow your eyes. "cooties.”
—
jimin comes over to do yoga because the studio’s closed
and you do it with him
except your fit is tight
skin. tight.
and namjoon, like a bird to glass, keeps running into walls
“he doesn’t like you, sure,” jimin mutters, stretching into baby cobra
you pluck off your headphones. “what?”
“I mean my hamstrings are killing me,” jimin says, bright
—
then namjoon’s mom forces him on a blind date because his cool doctor girlfriend decided she needs more than a boyfriend who ditches her to take care of his best friend’s sister
and namjoon, because he’s unversed in such things as women and dating and catfishes, seeks your sage advice
so you shit on the 50910238 girls in his portfolio. and he listens to you and dumps them. all of them.
one of them is seulgi, the idol, from red velvet.
three things happen:
seokjin texts namjoon, three seconds later, ARE YOU FUCKING INSANE, YOU DUMPED SEULGI???
hoseok shows up at the front door, and offers to drive namjoon to therapy. “you’re not insane,” he claims, whisking namjoon away. “this is just preventative.”
namjoon’s mom calls you, desperate, “HELP MY SON, HE’S GOING TO DIE ALONE”
“I mean, it’s his choice,” you tell her, mildly frightened, “there’s really not much I can–”
namjoon’s mom pauses, “did I tell you that your parents and namjoon’s dad and I once made a promise that if they had a daughter and we had a son, the two of you would–”
“STOP IT MOM,” namjoon screams, hurtling towards you with near-visceral panic
then smashes your phone into the floor
and suddenly it’s in 10 pieces.
literally.
10.
—
so namjoon buys you a new phone, as he should.
then he puts his number in first.
it’s a habit, yeah, but you catch yourself staring at him as he does it
“I already know your number,” you tell him
“I know you do,” namjoon says, then enters his name anyways, “Kim Namjoon”
you take the phone out of his hand, and your fingers graze his palm
namjoon stares at your hand, without breathing.
you too, forget how to breathe.
“excuse me,” the lady behind the two of says, “you’re blocking the door”
“oh sorry” namjoon says, jumping aside
“young couples these days,” lady mutters as she nudges past you
“we’re not–” you start, jerking to look at namjoon
and god, his face is as red as yours feels
—
“wanna go out tonight?” jungkook texts you, on the drive home
“who’s that,” namjoon asks
“jungkook”
“he’s not good enough for you,” namjoon decides, for the 519230123rd time.
“you say that about everyone,” you snort, “want me to die alone like you?”
“worst case, we can die alone together”
“sounds like some kind of metaphor for marriage,” you laugh
namjoon’s knuckles turn white on the steering wheel
“that’s a joke,” you inform him, nervous, heart in your throat for no thinkable reason
“haha,” namjoon says, awkward. then, a moment later, “should I drop you off at his place?”
you think about it
“let’s go home, I don’t feel like going out tonight”
namjoon almost melts into his seat. “well, now you get to watch apollo 13″
“shit,” you snort
but you watch it with him anyways, sitting on opposite ends of the couch, a single bowl of popcorn acting like an awkward DMZ line
then at one point you’re blinking asleep
and you can swear, you can feel namjoon’s hand cradling your face into his shoulder
but this time, you can’t fall asleep at all
AT ALL
so you kind of just, turn your face a little
namjoon’s fists clench tighter
then you brush your mouth over the little bit of exposed skin over his shirt, it’s soft and a little sticky with the sweat of summer, and namjoon flinches then freezes
“hey,” namjoon says, voice so low, and you feel like you’re about to float away and sink into the couch at the same time, “go to bed”
“whose bed,” you mutter, against his skin, and you can see the hair on namjoon’s arm stand
“yah, toddler,” he says, quietly. “don’t joke like that”
“don’t tell me what to do,” you tell him, sitting upright to look him in the eye
namjoon just stares at you back, exhales. he frowns, and suddenly he looks so different, "what is this,” he says
you put your hands on his shoulder
“what are you doing?” he asks
actually, you don’t know what you’re doing
you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing
but you push yourself forward and kiss him, just a little bit
namjoon doesn’t move, for a second
and then his hands are on your jaw, on the small of your back, and he kisses you back. on your mouth. on your jaw. down your neck. against your collarbone.
and then your shirt is off.
—
“ok,” namjoon says
you scamper off the couch, collecting your shirt and pants and one bra that somehow landed the kitchen sink
“nothing happened,” you declare
“nothing happened,” namjoon confirms
“there’s something on you,” he says, reaching out to pick a condom wrapper off your thigh, but then his entire hand kind of swallows up your leg
you lick your lips
namjoon hesitates, looks up, and his hands accidentally slide up your thigh.
and a little higher.
a tiny mewl makes its way past your lips. like, really tiny. like, nearly inaudible.
it happens that namjoon, apparently, has really good hearing.
—
nothing happens two more times.
—
“wow, I’m really fucking my prof for marks” you observe.
namjoon literally snaps the leg off his glasses frame, “don’t say that.”
“what,” you toe his ankle, glide it up past his knees, higher, and watch namjoon’s eyes turn from dark to pitch black, “don’t like it?”
namjoon puts his glasses away, then stands, lifts you off your chair, and plants you on the table, “I don’t know. say it again.”
—
“so if you add five to seven, you get three,” namjoon narrates, as he writes on the blackboard
the class nods and copies it down dutifully
then jimin asks, carefully, “three?”
namjoon stares at the blackboard.
then at jimin
then at you
then says, “uh.”
—
“WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO MY BABY SISTER,” Hoseok screams, banging open the front door
then he sees you in the kitchen.
literally strangling namjoon as you wrestle the cereal out of his arm.
and hoseok closes his mouth.
opens it again.
“aw,” he croons, eyes glittering, a man who suddenly loves love, “that’s so cute”
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: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.
A/N:As soon as I saw BTS at the White House, I KNEW I had to whip something up. So proud of our boys today
Badge in one hand, iced coffee in the other, tote bag slung over your shoulder, you hurried through the long halls toward your desk. Your sensible business heels clicked against the tile floors, past dignitaries and politicians gazing down at you from their portraits lining the walls. You were greeted by the sounds of excited morning conversations and frantic typing on laptop keyboards as you pushed the door to the press office open. Since the announcement went public, the entire team had anxiously awaited this day. You just hoped you made it out in one piece.
Throwing your bag in your desk chair, you leaned against the wooden surface, taking a long sip from your straw as you finally caught your breath. Of course, today of all days, would be the day when your commute was worse than usual. You had considered camping out here last night to avoid the morning traffic, knowing that the roads to the White House would be crazier than ever, reporters wanting to arrive early to get good seats in the briefing room for their photo ops.
“Y/N, you ready for today?” your coworker, Annie, asked as she dropped a stack of papers on your desk.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied with a grin, relishing in the adrenaline and buzz that only came with working in such an important building, privy to the most important news in the country before anyone else.
“Aren’t you a fan of theirs?” Annie teased, shooting you a finger heart as she walked away from your desk.
“You’re going to lie and tell me you’re not?” you laughed, responding to her finger heart with one of your own.
“BTS to go on in 10 minutes,” the intercom speaker in the office sounded. You smoothed your dress, attempting to collect yourself.
A/N:As soon as I saw BTS at the White House, I KNEW I had to whip something up. So proud of our boys today
Badge in one hand, iced coffee in the other, tote bag slung over your shoulder, you hurried through the long halls toward your desk. Your sensible business heels clicked against the tile floors, past dignitaries and politicians gazing down at you from their portraits lining the walls. You were greeted by the sounds of excited morning conversations and frantic typing on laptop keyboards as you pushed the door to the press office open. Since the announcement went public, the entire team had anxiously awaited this day. You just hoped you made it out in one piece.
Throwing your bag in your desk chair, you leaned against the wooden surface, taking a long sip from your straw as you finally caught your breath. Of course, today of all days, would be the day when your commute was worse than usual. You had considered camping out here last night to avoid the morning traffic, knowing that the roads to the White House would be crazier than ever, reporters wanting to arrive early to get good seats in the briefing room for their photo ops.
“Y/N, you ready for today?” your coworker, Annie, asked as she dropped a stack of papers on your desk.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied with a grin, relishing in the adrenaline and buzz that only came with working in such an important building, privy to the most important news in the country before anyone else.
“Aren’t you a fan of theirs?” Annie teased, shooting you a finger heart as she walked away from your desk.
“You’re going to lie and tell me you’re not?” you laughed, responding to her finger heart with one of your own.
“BTS to go on in 10 minutes,” the intercom speaker in the office sounded. You smoothed your dress, attempting to collect yourself.
This is just like any other day, you thought to yourself, trying to keep your inner fangirl from squealing. You sat down, paging through the edits Annie left for you on your desk, eyes scanning over the words on the typed pages, wanting to do work to distract yourself from the upcoming press conference happening around the corner from you.
You looked up when you heard the sudden commotion of one of the summer interns running into the office, a panicked look on his face.
“Who here knows how to sew?” he said. “Actually, scratch that—who here has a needle and thread, like, right now?”
You stood up, waving for the intern to come over.
“Hey, Robbie, take a breath,” you watched as he took your advice literally, breathing deeply to try and calm down. “This is hardly the most significant emergency you’ll have here on event day. Now, I have a travel sewing kit with me. What do I need to fix?” you asked, pulling open a desk drawer to pull out your kit.
“One of them. They lost a button. They are supposed to go to the briefing room any minute now!”
“Robbie, what did I say about breathing?” you scolded, before walking toward the door that would lead you to the room where BTS was prepping before going out with the Press Secretary. “I’ll take care of it.”
You took a deep breath of your own before pushing the door open, met with a flurry of stylists trying, and failing, to find a needle and thread.
A security guard of the band looked at your badge, before ushering you over toward a group of seven men, dressed in black, tailored suits. “Someone told me there was a sewing emergency?” You asked into the group, trying to feign casual indifference.
“Oh, that would be me,” a deep voice responded. You immediately recognized it. Namjoon stepped forward, an embarrassed smile on his face, making his dimples indent his cheeks. You swallowed hard, wanting to maintain your relaxed composure.
“What happened?” He silently answered by holding out a black button to you in his palm, no longer attached to his suit jacket. You laughed quietly, grabbing it from him, ignoring how warm his hand felt as your fingertips brushed against his palm. You didn’t notice the way his eyes lit up at your reaction. “Easy enough to fix,” you responded, already looping black thread through the eye of a needle, eyes concentrated on the task. The other members were talking amongst themselves, practicing their speeches with each other as you stood with Namjoon.
“What’s your name?”
“Y/N,” you said, glancing up at him with a soft smile.
“Well, Y/N, you really are saving the day.”
“It’s no trouble, happens more often than you would expect,” you said, stepping toward him to start sewing the button back on. You took a deep breath to steady your hands, not wanting to poke the international superstar with your needle. Oh my god, he smells so good, you thought, inhaling the scent of his cologne as you pushed your needle through the thick fabric.
“Do you save the day often?” Namjoon asked quietly, his voice dropping because of your proximity.
“I wouldn’t call sewing a button ‘saving the day.’”
“Hmm, I don’t know about that. I would have been pretty embarrassed to go out there in front of all of those reporters with a missing button,” Namjoon teased. You pulled the thread together into a knot, finishing your work. You subconsciously patted the suit jacket to let him know it was finished, cheeks burning as you pulled your hand away from his solid chest. You did not mean to do that. Namjoon cleared his throat as you stepped back, embarrassed.
“Looks like you’re all set,” you said, ignoring the flush in your face.
“Thank you, Y/N, you were a huge help,” Namjoon said, disappointed that you had moved away so quickly. He wanted to keep you talking. He wanted to hear you laugh again. To make you smile.
“Any time,” you breathed out. You were about to turn to walk away when Namjoon took a step toward you, making you freeze.
“Will I see you again?” Your eyes went wide. “After the press conference, I mean,” he asked quietly.
“I’ll just be hiding in the back, watching you on television like the rest of the world,” you shrugged your shoulders, attempting to convince him you were nonchalant about the whole situation. Namjoon tilted his head to the side slightly. You looked at the way his dark hair was pushed back from his forehead, the visual of his slightly tanned skin contrasting with it distracting you for a moment.
“What if I wanted to take the beautiful woman who saved the day out for a drink tonight to thank her? Could I see you again if that was the case?” He said it so confidently, like he knew she would say yes. But his eyes were soft, like they were waiting for the blow of rejection.
“I-I um…yeah, I think that could work,” you stammered.
“Great, I’ll be sure to wear an outfit that requires less repair work this time,” Namjoon said with a wink, making you giggle.
Genre: fluff, tooth-rotting fluff, (one-sided) idiots to lovers, best friends to lovers ♡, college au
Warnings: Namjoon is a flirt, buff namjoon, oc is pretty bratty but in a cute way, everyone loves her, she’s kinda dumb tho in a sense that she’s very oblivious but very smart irl, smart besties, cute drunk confessions, very slight angst if you squint, some slight insecurities showed up, excessive use of the word ‘baby’, namjoon is very in love, just prepare to be smitten ㅠㅡㅠ
Date Posted: April 20, 2022
Summary: You and Namjoon have been best friends since high school. Namjoon has been in love since but you’re too dumb to realize that you love him too.
A/N:this is my first fic,, idk i just tried writing because I have so many ideas in mind, just fluffy scenarios. I am not a writer at all so I’m not really sure how to write (despite reading fanfics for years lol) this is pretty self-indulgent but to whoever reads this, I hope you enjoy! Lemme know what you think ♡
—
“Namjoon!!”
You barged into his room fuming at 7 in the morning. Namjoon was still in dreamland and before he could wonder why you were mad, you went on, “You were supposed to buy some chocolate milk,” a cute pout on your face while walking towards his bed.
Your head snaps up, your mouth falling open in surprise. Your boyfriend is staring at you, his lips pressed in a solemn line.
“Namjoon, there must be something-”
“There isn’t time.”
Namjoon shakes his head slowly. He exhales, straightening his shoulders. “We knew it would come to this.”
“Namjoon,no.”You protest emphatically, the words that are pulled out of your lips evaporate into a puff of frost. It is an uncharacteristically cold day for December. A thick duvet of crisp white snow hugs the earth, as snowflakes fall in drowsy succession around you.
Namjoon reaches down and gives your hand a squeeze. You glance down at your clasped palms. He is wearing his new mittens, they are black, with crimson red crabs lopsidedly stitched into the wool.
(You had given them to him last night. Namjoon had immediately whipped off his WTAPS gloves and thrown them onto the floor in a melodramatic display of Christmas Gift Appreciation. He had then jumped up and down in excitement, small bounces that his lean body weren’t fully in control of. The domino effect went as follows: Namjoon knocked his shin on your bedside table, the lamp fell off, and it broke. Needless to say, melodramatics were not Kim Namjoon’s forte.)
“I’ll go. It’s the only way. I’ll distract him.” Namjoon declares suddenly, it is a sweeping statement, and you gasp.
“No! Namjoon, wait - !”
But it is too late. Namjoon drops your hand and turns his head to give you one last gaze. “Get out of here while you still can, Y/N. I love you.”
And then he runs around the corner out into the open.
Slackjawed, you hear it: the sound of Namjoon yelling, and an all too distinctive evil giggle.
Your instincts kick in, and you spring up from where you are crouched, racing out to the open, to where Namjoon is.
Jeon Jungkook is standing there, a fuzzy bucket hat on his head, a sling draped around his neck. The sling is stuffed to the brim with snowballs, and you watch with widened eyes as Jungkook reaches in and grabs a snowball.
He hurls it at your boyfriend with a speed and ferocity that is both awe inspiring and terrifying. His arms are a blur, and you watch as Namjoon yelps out in protest, his body being pelted with snowball after snowball. Jungkook is laughing the entire time and showing no signs of slowing down.
“Got you!” Jungkook crows. He is distracted, and you look down.
Your fingers are curled around a snowball. A perfectly shaped snowball. It is the one you had been working on right before Namjoon had sacrificed himself.
You aim at Jungkook and throw with all your might.
The snowball arcs cleanly through the air, and it feels as if time stands still. You watch, your breath catching in your throat. Jungkook turns, spotting you, and he flings a snowball in your direction.
You watch, your muscles tight with tension as your snowball continues to fly in the air… before it plops to the ground, no more than two metres away from you.
(Okay, in hindsight that may have been an overly optimistic shot to take.)
You hear Namjoon laugh, just as Jungkook’s snowball splatters over your chest.
“Two in one!” Jungkook screams, and you turn your focus on him, your eyes narrowing into a glare.
“You take snowball fights way too seriously Jeon Jungkook.”
“Don’t hate the player, hate the game.”
You point at the sling wrapped around his neck, recognizing the scrawled doodles on the white fabric. Love hearts with legs, a Taehyung signature.
“… Is that Tae’s sling?”
Jungkook lifts his nose in the air and folds his arms defiantly.
“I can’t reveal intel to the enemy.”
You narrow your eyes. “Like I said. You take the snowball fight way too seriously.”
(In fact, the snowball fight was the reason why Taehyung even had a sling in the first place. He and Jungkook had been testing out a snowball fight strategy wherein Taehyung would climb a tree and attack with snowballs from the branches. It had been a self labelled ‘flawless plan for victory’… until Taehyung had fallen out of aforementioned tree during a test run and sprained his wrist.)
Jungkook opens his mouth to retort, but a piercing scream pierces through the air. The scream is unmistakably Hoseok’s, and Jungkook’s ears practically prick up and he turns, sprinting away, snowball sling bobbing up and down.
You let out a huff of defeat and flop down onto the snow. Your hair fans out underneath you as you stare up at the sky. Despite the icy chill lingering in the air, the sun beats down on your face, the sky blue and streaked with clouds.
You hear footsteps crunching in the snow and your eyes flutter closed.
For the majority of your adult life, you hadn’t been one to make a huge deal out of Christmas. In the past, Christmas had always been a non-event - something to vaguely anticipate, but never something to actively celebrate. That was until you had met Kim Namjoon five years ago.
You had fallen into Namjoon, into a clumsy and quick kind of love that felt like every cliche bundled up into one - butterflies, songs on the radio reminding you of him, you lying awake with your phone pressed to your chest and a giddy smile painted on your cheeks.
Dating Namjoon meant holidays under blankets, agonizing over getting your boyfriend the perfect present, kisses absently pressed on the top of your head in between cups of chamomile tea.
Dating Namjoon also meant being adopted into his circle of friends, and Namjoon had casually warned you five Christmases ago that they were ‘kind of Christmas enthusiasts.’
You had soon learned that ’Kind of’ meant ‘Extreme’. Each of your friends has a Christmas Thing. Hoseok texts you inaccurate Christmas carol lyrics at varying intervals throughout the day, (this morning you had gotten ‘get your boo a partridge in a pear tree. keep that love 100’ and a series of love heart emojis) Seokjin buys everyone matching Christmas sweaters, (the goal being that the more obscure the sweater the better. This year he scrounged up ‘Santa and his Reindeer as outdated vines’ jumpers) Jimin and Yoongi hold a festive movie marathon (during which Yoongi always complains about how the Santa Clause movie has too many loopholes, and Jimin recites half of Home Alone by heart). And last but not least, Jungkook and Taehyung have their annual snowball fight (which you really do need to put a stop to because the sight of Jungkook the Cackling Snowball Machine is one you never want to see again.)
You open your eyes to see Namjoon smiling down at you.
“We lost,” He says simply. “Again.”
You huff out in frustration and fold your arms.
“Yeah, but that’s because our friends are so-” You begin.
“Intense.” Namjoon finishes.
“And way too competitive.”
“And weirdly accurate at throwing snowballs. Jungkook hit my er, personal ornaments three times and I swear it was on purpose.”
A giggle escapes your lips and Namjoon joins in, his mitten clapping over his mouth as if to catch his laugh.
“They’re alright,” You begrudgingly admit, trying to keep up your grumpy facade, but you are smiling. Namjoon reads in between your lines as he always does. I love them, even with all their weird Christmas traditions.
“They’re alright.” He agrees, and this time you read in between his lines. I love them, they’re family.
Namjoon’s eyes soften as he gazes at you, his face is all dimples and creased eyes and the tiniest hint of a smile fighting on his lips- an utterly Namjoon facial expression that is only brought about as a result of you.
He reaches out and affectionately cups your face with a mittened hand. The wool is cold and scratchy on your skin, but you keen into his palm as he leans closer to you.
His beanie is askew on his head, snowflakes dusting the shoulders on his obnoxious Christmas sweater. He brings his other hand to your cheek and his face eases into a smile- one that fills your belly with a golden kind of warmth, one of those signature Namjoon smiles that makes you feel shy and captivated and fuzzy and prickly, all at once.
“My snow angel.” He murmurs, his deep voice is clear and confident, and you blush, even through the frost clinging to your cheeks.
“You’re so lame.” You roll your eyes at him. Namjoon’s smile widens, your hands wind around the back of his neck as you pull him in closer to you.
His lips brush over yours, a light touch that is silvery and like a whisper, before he leans in closer and deepens the kiss.
His lips taste like cinnamon, his lips soft and full and you can’t help but swoon into him, at the sensation of his tongue dancing against yours, his hands cupping your face and the sound of him sighing into your mouth.
He pulls away, pressing a kiss onto your cheek and onto your forehead, and you feel delightfully tipsy with each stamp of his lips to your skin.
“We’ll win next year.” Namjoon says decisively. You scrunch your nose.
(Not a chance: Namjoon has a strange tendency of making cube shaped snowballs that fall apart mid air. You also cannot throw a snowball to save your life, see earlier attempt at taking out Snowball Fight competitor Jeon Jungkook for evidence.)
“Definitely. If not next year, then in five. We can train in secret or something and catch Jungkook and Tae offguard.” You say lightly.
“I don’t even know if five years of training is enough. Jungkook had so many snowballs before. I don’t even know when he had time to make that many…” Namjoon has a perplexed look on his face.
“Fifty years then.” You propose. Namjoon beams at that and nods in agreement.
“Merry Christmas my love.” He kisses the tip of your nose.
Warnings: depressing themes; thrilling themes; mentions of blood/injuries; mentions of death; FLUFF SO MUCH FLUFF
Summary:Curious as to how your village came to be and having a thirst for knowledge, you venture into the Forgotten Forest in hopes of discovering the truth of your roots. But it seems you have bitten off more than you can chew.
WC:3k
Note: Finally, FINALLY, you get to meet Namjoon. Figured after all the excitement we could use a fluffy chapter. So much fluff, protective Joon is here yessirrr and as always please enjoy and let me know what you think.
Here soon there will be a poll made where I’ll take a vote on who’s story should be written next! Itbetween a few candidates(:
You were drowning in a sea of darkness. Every breath felt like a struggle, as if tons of stone were pressing against your chest. You could feel your heart weakly beating, slowly straining against the weight that was pulling you down into nothingness. You couldn’t move. You couldn’t open your eyes, no matter how hard you tried. You were paralyzed in this dark and lonely void with nothing but your thoughts and your sore body. There were no memories of how you got so beat up, how you felt like you were bathing in ice, and why you were so exhausted. There were no memories, no recollection.
Just you, in pain, being pulled down.
But it seemed the gods pitied you. They gave you brief moments of solace. Where the pain disappeared for a minute or so. Where you could grasp on to a small piece of hope that you weren’t entirely alone.
These moments, fragments of seconds, where you found yourself escaping the void. The darkness would cease to exist and you’d find yourself elsewhere, with new feelings and emotions. Ones you couldn’t quite decipher. It was always when you felt yourself sinking further into the darkness, always when something went wrong. A small price to pay for a moment of painlessness.
The first moment was when you could feel your blood pressure rise suddenly, your heart pounding irregularly in your ears, something warm trickled down your nose with the smell of iron accompanying it…
Snow covered mountains flew by your vision as the ice winds slapped against your face. You felt yourself rushing forward with a need. You could feel the need to move faster rush through your veins, adrenaline spiking out of control. Your arms held something smaller, something still…
The second moment was when your lungs felt like they were burning, you were gasping for air but each intake felt like a small flame. No matter how much you gasped there never seemed to be enough air to breathe…
The sky was pitch black, moon high above illuminating the area. A dark wooden sliding door quickly came to view, you kicked it open without a second thought. Storming through the dark area, you knew where you needed to go. Arms pulling something cold closer to your chest as you stormed deeper into the place.
And the final moment was when your heart stopped…
Vision blurred as colors danced around, you dropped to your knees, you could feel the angry scream ripping out of your lips. You could feel the burn in your throat from the strain of your vocal chords. But the world around you sounded muffled. Your arms shook as you curled in on yourself.
Then you were back once more. Sinking faster into a sea of black, wondering when it will end. How it will all end… you could feel sorrow creep inside you as you realized how you didn’t want it to end. You wanted to open your eyes and break free from the dark prison. There was something out there that you wanted. No… There was someone out there that you needed. You couldn’t give up, you needed…
A shimmer of green caught your eye from above. Right at arms length.
It was a glowing rope; a beautiful shade of green illuminating the darkness around you. It was looks strong and the warmth radiated from it tickled your cheeks in a beautiful way. Every eternal instinct inside screaming to grab onto it, as though your life depended on it. Without hesitation your hand shot out. The rope felt smooth as you entangled your fingers through it, feeling a steady pulse thrumming inside. Every beat pulsing through the rope and through you.
You clung to it, not wanting to fall anymore, not wanting to let go and be swallowed by the darkness that surrounded you. Your tangled fingers refusing to let go as your arms shook under your weight. You pressed your head against the glowing mystery, shaking as you refused to drop anymore. The pulse was beating stronger now and you allowed it to radiate through you as well. Despite the pain that your body was in, despite the ache of your lungs and your heart that has decided to give up you felt something deep inside you scream one phrase:
I’m still here.
I’m still here.
I’m still here.
I’M STILL HERE-
Then there was light. It was a warm light.
You still felt tired but were no longer falling into a void, and there was something soft laying on you. Something that was a little heavy but not too heavy that it was hard to breathe, unlike how it was moments before. And there was a scent in the air that was soft and inviting. It had a soft earthy tone, the smell helping you feel grounded. It made you feel calm and at ease. That is until your memories came flooding back in like a tidal wave. Memories of a snowy mountain, of two creatures, a large Dragon, and you were falling…
Your heart stopped. It had ceased to beat.
In a panic your eyes flew open and felt your body stiffen at the sight before you. Gold eyes that were framed with long black fur stared back at you. Stared into your soul. You didn’t dare move, mind still foggy, worried what it would do when you felt a gentle vibration.
Apurr.
Salem.
You let out a long breath as the cat laid on your chest, watching with a relaxed aura about him. Shakily you lifted up an arm and gently gave the small feline pets, the silky fur and soft purring helping ease your anxious mind. But then you had to wonder- where were you and how did Salem get to you…
“Salem sure has his favorites.”
You jumped a little, Salem letting out a huff of annoyance as he shot the speaker a glare that held no bite. Sitting right next to you was Soojin, dressed in a long black dress with gold accessories that matched her gold eyes. She smiled at you, hand reaching for the one not occupied with Salem.
“Y/n, it’s so good to see you’re finally awake.” She whispered, thumb rubbing soothing circles on your skin. “We were so worried.” Her eyes matched the concern in her voice, gold iris’ boring into yours.
While you had so many questions running around in your head, there was only one that was at the forefront of your mind. Only one that mattered the most to you the most:
“Where’s Namjoon?”
Your voice was hoarse and sounded god awful. Your throat was still swollen and made even swallowing difficult. Every breath you took through your lips, which were somehow bruised and just as swollen, was held a painful bite.
You didn’t miss the way Soojin’s eyes lit up, a small smile gracing her lips. “Your Dragon is well, thanks to you. You saved his life.” Her voice was still soft as if she were speaking to a scared little kitten. “He has been restored back to full health, well, physically he’s all and well. He was worried about you too.”
You were going to ask where he was, your heart sinking at the thought of losing him and never being able to see the Dragon again when foots interrupted the two of you. It made you look around for the first time, realizing that you were in an unknown room that was quite large. The bed was low to the ground, but extremely soft, decorated in sheets of muted colors that were earth tones. Behind Soojin was a wall that was opened to reveal a snowy landscape that was breathtaking. And yet the room was perfectly warm and cozy.
On the other side was a sliding door that was left cracked open, you could make out two silhouettes. They were speaking in hushed tones, until one tried to side step the other, resulting in a deep growl and a raise of tone of the first figure.
A pat on your arm had you snapping your head to see Soojin shaking hers. “I swear, no one listens to me around here. Y/n, dear, give me a second.” She wasted no time in walking towards the sliding door opening it up just enough for you to see past her and into the darker hallway. Your eyes followed and watched as the light illuminated just enough to make out two men.
The one closer to the door was taller than the other male, his hair as brown as the earth and that looked soft, his skin having a soft golden hue to it. You could only see the back of his head, eyes wandering to see the muscles straining against the silk shirt, a color of emerald green. You should have felt shame eyeing the male up and down but you couldn’t tear your eyes away.
Soojin was hissing at the two and you found yourself unable to look away as the first male grumbled something back, still staring the second male down. You sat up, wincing, feeling the need to get up and make yourself known. The pain was pushed to the back of your mind, eyes still watching the trio with curiosity as well as something else. A pull tugging you forward and towards them. Or rather him.
Salem was gently pushed further down the bed, the black cat letting out a whine, clearly displeased at the new seating arrangement. It was hard to pull yourself up to a sitting position but you were determined to get your body moving. You watched as Soojin tried to shoo the two away with her hands and you almost whined as the first male began to leave. His back slowly moving away from the door had you trying to jump up after him, swinging one leg down to the floor-
“Ah-!”
“Mow.”
A soft whimper came from you along with a grumbled response from the cat, who glared at you from ruining his warm spot and lovely head pats. Your legs had given out the moment you applied the minimum amount of weight to them. The floor was warm, thankfully, but not soft in the slightest. You winced, allowing yourself to lay there pitifully with eyes closed and the urge to move forward trying to push you up. Your arms shook as you tried pull yourself up, having no strength left you welcomed the faceplant on the floor-
But hands caught you.
They carefully gripped your upper arms and slowly helped you into a sitting position. You were treated as though you were made of glass; one wrong move and you’d break. The hands were large, warm, and you could feel callouses decorating that skin. Your eyes followed the hands, seeing strong and thick arms, linked to a broad chest, finally up to a face that held your undivided attention.
Mere inches away was a handsome young man, with hair the color of coffee that fell into disheveled pieces and a face that was soft, kind. Full lips were smiling gently at you, dimples appearing and making your heart flutter. And the eyes, hooded and almost intimidating, the color of emeralds.
Eyes you have come to know all too well.
His hands reached up your shoulders and laid gently at the base of your neck, thumbs rubbing small circles on your cheeks with a carefulness you’ve never experienced. His eyes scanned your body and face, looking for signs of injury while you sat frozen to the spot.
The world around the two of you ceased to exist. You were drawn to him like a moth to a flame as your mind connected the dots. This was no stranger. You knew him. Your finger slowly lifted, almost as though you were in a trance, and carefully dragged it from his forehead to the tip of his nose. The same way you had pet your Dragon, as light as a feather. His eyes fluttered, his head tilting closer to you. His lips parted as he was about to speak-
“Oh praise the Kitsune, my little Kelpie is alive!”
The voice shattered your bubble, a voice you recognized from what felt like a lifetime ago. Your froze, cheeks heating up at the realization of your actions all while the young man before you tensed up, a low growl forming in chest. A growl that made you freeze up at the sheer viciousness behind it. You quickly pulled your finger back, hands in your lap as your head ducked down.
“Felix,” Soojin sounded like a whip, gold eyes narrowing at the blonde Fae from where he stood in the doorway. “Get out. Now.” Her tone made the man’s growl before you sound like a puppy’s bark. You flinched at her tone, not wanting to be behind the receiving end of it.
Her words were unheard as the Fae all but threw himself on you, wrapping you tightly in his arms. You nearly fell back, the hands that had secured you were gone and replaced by the Fae’s weight which you couldn’t hold. Arms pinned to your side you winced as his voice was right in your ear. "You’re safe, you’re alive- oof!”
Your head was spinning as you watched the Fae being dragged by the ear out of the room, Soojin seething and hissing at him. She was fast to grab him and get him untangled from you. She threw an apologetic look your way and closed the door shut, Salem following his Sorceress. Her voice was now rising elsewhere before disappearing altogether. Leaving you in complete silence. Leaving you alone with him. Speaking of…
His eyes were trained on the door, his face scowling at the paper. His hands were at his side, forming tight fists. The growl had grown increasingly so and there was a part of you that wanted to flee. Call it your basic instincts coming into play; hearing a growl and wanting to retreat. You felt frozen to your spot, eyes watching him, almost waiting for him to snap at you like a predator-
Green eyes clashed with your eyes and the growling stopped immediately. His hand quickly took your own, fingers threading your hands together. His eyes were pleading as he said. “Never you. I’d never do that to you.”
His voice was deep and soothing. It seemed to erase all your worries away and make you feel safe and sound. The instinct to flee was quickly replaced with a sense of security. You could only slowly nod your head, refusing to look away. As if he’d disappear forever in the blink of an eye. But you weren’t the only one. His eyes wouldn’t leave your face, drinking you in with an emotion that you couldn’t describe.
“Y/n…” His voice was in awe, a whisper. A smile reappeared on his face, dimples on full display. “My Human.”
A pleasurable shiver went down your spine hearing your name roll off his tongue. You smiled softly back at him. “Namjoon, my Dragon.” You’d be a liar to say your face didn’t flush along with his. But you maintained eye contact as a soft smile grew on your face. “Nice to officially meet you.”
Your voice was hoarse still, barely above a whisper, and sounded terrible. It honestly ruined the mood, especially compared to his voice that sounded smooth and sweet. Namjoon froze, eyes widening as he quickly stood up. You frowned for a moment, wondering what he was up to when you were suddenly scooped up in his arms with ease. The arms felt familiar around you, a memory bubbling at the surface of your brain but left just as quickly when you were tucked back in.
Namjoon was quick at securing the blankets around you, eyebrows knit together in concentration as he muttered under his breath. He ran a hand through his hair as he looked towards the door. His body froze, debating something before turning back to you. “I’ll be right back-”
“No, please stay.” You grabbed his hand, voice pleading and weak as you looked up at him. The thought of him leaving the room made your stomach drop as a feeling of sadness washed over you. You couldn’t explain why but you needed Namjoon there. You wanted to chalk it up to anxiety over his well being; the last time you saw him he was weak and barely holding on.
“You need water, food, rest-” He began to ramble off a list of things, but stopped when you squeezed his hand. It was weak and he could hardly feel your fingers gripping his, your hand still on the cool side.
And that cemented it.
No more words were needed as you gave him a small tug. Namjoon crawled over you, mindful of not accidentally hurting you. He laid on top of the thick blankets, one arm wrapping around your waist and pulling you closer, coaxing your head to lay on his chest where his heart was beating steadily. You embraced his warmth, eyes fluttering as you curled into his side, one hand reaching up to grip his shirt gently. Placing his hand over yours, his face dipped down to press his head to yours.
“Sleep my little Seeker. I’ll be here.”
So many parts of you were feeling mixed emotions and wanting different things. On one hand, you wanted to ask so many questions; what happened to Siyeon, where you were and how long has it been, and why was Felix and Soojin with you? Your brain wanted the answers right then and there as worries tried to plague your mind. Then there was another part of you that wanted to pry yourself out of Namjoon’s side; that he was still a stranger, that you shouldn’t be this open and touching to a man you’ve truly just met.
But those thoughts were drowned out by something you can’t describe. You trusted Namjoon entirely, he made you feel safe and secure. The answers could wait and the negative thoughts could burn for all you cared. You were both safe and alive and in that moment that was all that mattered to you.
You pressed yourself closer to his side, eyes fluttering closed as strong hands rubbed up and down your spine soothingly. His hand kept yours secure, thumb rubbing small circles on the back of your hand. His head was kept ducked down, cheek resting against the top of your hair, his heart beat music to your ears as you gradually fell into a deep and peaceful sleep. Your Dragon keeping you safe and warm.
Genre: fluff? | enemies to friends to lovers au | college au
Pairing: Namjoon x Reader
Warnings: my bad writing and my bad drawing,,, | English is not my first language
Summary: you’re starting your first year of college and you’ve never had a boyfriend before. Your brother Jungkook finds three love letters you wrote to your childhood (Jimin), middle school (Namjoon) and high school (Jin) crushes and sends them out. Little did he know all of them were attending the same college as you.
Love. Was there something better than love? You honestly didn’t think so. The idea of loving someone and being loved in return was the source of your inner and more secret desires. Holding hands, whispering sweet nothings to each other, hugging and kissing, sharing a lifetime with your soulmate was all your heart had ever desired. Love was everything to you and, as a famous poet once said, love was so powerful it could move the sun and all the other stars. Love was the essence of the Universe.
‘In vain have I struggled. It will not do. My feelings will not be repressed. You must allow me to tell you how ardently I admire and love you.’
You giggled again, tugging the book you were reading closer to your face. No matter how many times you had read that same passage, your heart still fluttered every time your eyes landed on it. You had underlined that exact passage so many times that the page was now slightly worn out. How many times had you wished to receive those words? You sighed, rereading the passage once again. In truth, you knew that passage by heart.
“Please, don’t tell me you’re reading Pride and Prejudiceagain?”
The voice of your brother startled you and you snapped out of your intense daydreaming. You closed your book and glared at him. “Get out,” you snarled at him.
Jungkook rolled his eyes and, uninvited, sat on your bed. “I will never understand how obsessed you can be with this Mr. Darky.”
“It’s Mr. Darcy!”
He shrugged, “whatever.” He then looked around your room and slowly whistled, “this is an A* mess. Weren’t you supposed to clean and pack everything up like…” he looked at his watch and then said, “fifteen minutes ago?”
You groaned, “I got distracted.”
“Well, I’m sure Mr. Dumpy-“
“Mr. Darcy!”
“-won’t mind if you actually start cleaning this mess,” Jungkook finished, shoving you aside with his foot.
You huffed and much to your annoyance, you knew that your baby brother was right. So you got up, but not without gently putting down your favourite book, and started shoving your clothes inside some random box.
“God, Y/N, why do you have to be so messy,” Jungkook groaned.
You rolled your eyes at him because, seriously, why did he have to act like the big brother here? But again, he was right.
“Why are you here anyway?” you asked while this time properly folding the clothes you decided to donate.
“I finished with my boxes half an hour ago,” he said with a grin, “and I had some spare time to use before Taehyung and Jimin arrive.”
At the mention of Jimin’s name, you could not help but blush furiously. You really hoped your ears weren’t as red as you thought. And yes, you might have had a slight crush on your childhood friend, Jimin.
“Jimin is coming as well?” you asked trying to sound nonchalant. Lucky for you, your brother wasn’t exactly quick when it came to matters of the heart.
Jungkook hummed, “yeah, I thought it would be nice since you guys are practically moving in together.”
You shrieked, “we are not moving in together!”
“Relax, Y/N,” your brother said, eyeing you like you just turned into a madwoman, “seriously, what’s up with you?”
How could you tell your younger brother that you have had a crush for your mutual childhood friend since the age of 10 and now that you and said friend were both moving to the same college you didn’t know how to keep your crush at bay? You couldn’t. Truth be told, you didn’t know how to act around Jimin without your brother and Taehyung being there as well. You were too scared that the boy would have found out.
“I’m sorry, Kookie. I’m just stressed with this whole college business,” you said, plopping carelessly on your small puffy chair.
Jungkook nodded, “it’s the end of an era.”
You didn’t mean to, but you started crying. You had tried so hard to not think about that for the whole summer and hearing your brother, who also happened to be one of your best friends, saying what you strongly tried to ignore was like a punch in the guts.
But it was the end of an era. You and Jimin were going off to college, leaving Jungkook and Taehyung behind. Your group, once inseparable, was splitting. No more movie nights, no more gaming, no more spending your days at the park chasing the ducks, eating ice cream together. You weren’t ready to say goodbye to all of that, to the best memories of your life. You weren’t ready to close the happiest chapter of your life. And certainly, you weren’t ready to embark into a more obscure, unsure and lonely chapter where your brother’s bunny smile wasn’t there to comfort you and Taehyung’s laugh wasn’t there to accompany you in the journey.
“No, Y/N, don’t cry,” Jungkook said moving closer to you.
You sniffled, “I’m not crying.”
Jungkook ruffled your hair, “sure you’re not.”
“I will miss the gang, you know,” you mumbled, deeply appreciating your brother’s efforts to comfort you. “It has always been the four of us and now we are going to split up.”
“It’s still gonna be the four of us,” Jungkook said with a soft smile and, seriously, when did he grow up so much? Where was your little brother?
“College doesn’t have to scare you this much, Y/N. It’s okay if you and Jimin will get new friends, our gang will just grow a little,” he said, patting your head lightly. You smiled at him, truly grateful for having him by your side when you needed him the most.
“Besides,” Jungkook said with a sly grin, “maybe you’ll manage to finally find a boyfriend.”
You groaned and pushed him away. “You are awful,” you said getting up from the bed. Jungkook laughed, showing you his signature bunny smile.
“Who knows? Maybe you’ll find your real life Mr. Dampy-”
“It’s Mr. Darcy!”
Jungkook shrugged again, “but seriously, how come someone as romantic as you never had a boyfriend?”
You arched an eyebrow, not quite sure why your little brother was suddenly curious about your love life. For a brief moment you were scared that your not-so-oblivious brother had caught up with your little crush and panic started clawing at your ribcage. You decided that the best tactic was to play dumb and play low, trying to be very careful not to spill any valuable information.
“It is a bit hard for a girl to find a boyfriend when she is surrounded by three very possessive boys,” you told him with an eye-roll.
Your brother chuckled, “okay, point taken.”
You snorted. Then, you started sorting out your clothes again, trying to decide what to bring with you to college and what to donate instead.
“But seriously, no one had ever caught your eyes?”
“Why are you so curious all of a sudden?”
Jungkook looked embarrassed and judging by his ears turning red, you knew that something was up.
“Kookie?” You sounded like you were about to tackle him to the ground to spill everything out of him. To be honest, you weren’t that opposed to the idea.
“Look,” he started, “it’s just that me and the boys are worried about you.” When you didn’t say anything, Jungkook groaned. “You’re always so happy whenever you think about love, we don’t want you to get hurt. Which is why Jimin is being appointed as your guardian.”
“What?!” you shrieked. You could feel all your blood draining inside of your body. Surely, he had to be joking. How were you supposed to forget about your crush for Jimin when he was going to be there every time you tried to talk to a boy?
“It was Tae’s idea,” he said, raising his hands in front of you. “Jimin agreed immediately and, honestly, I think you do need to be supervised.” He then noticed your face becoming painfully red and tried to placate your rising anger, “we just want you to have a good first love experience.”
You groaned, throwing a pillow at him. “And then you have the audacity of asking me why I never had a boyfriend! It’s because of you three.”
Jungkook had the decency of looking guilty, “I’m sorry, sis. We didn’t mean to ruin anything.”
You sighed, “do you realise I am the bigger sibling here, right? You don’t need to protect me, Kookie.”
Jungkook looked at his feet and muttered a quiet: “I just want you to fall in love with someone good.”
You tried to stay mad at him but, to be honest, you couldn’t. You know that your brother always had the best intentions and, if it meant you being happy, he would always try his best to work out a way to make that happen. Sometimes his plans had backfired, but his heart had always been in the right place. And that was Jungkook, always going the extra mile to help the people he loved and always trying harder whenever he failed. Truthfully, you loved him for that.
“You know I’m not really into that love thing,” you said, for the first time being truly honest with your brother. His head shot up immediately and the look on his face would have been hilarious if the situation hadn’t turned this dense.
“What? But you always read romance and dream about Mr. Darky-”
“Mr. Darcy!”
“-and you always talk about your wedding day. So, you’re telling me you don’t really like those things?”
You sighed and rubbed your eyes, “I do. But reality is different from fiction, Kookie. In the real world, there is no Mr. Darcy waiting for me and the thought of having a relationship is scary because I’m afraid I will be disappointed.”
You had never been so honest with someone before. You felt vulnerable and hoped that your brother wouldn’t want to carry on this conversation. Your heart ached enough already without the painful realisation that all your books and movies ever did was to make your expectations insanely high. Truth was, you were in love with the idea of love, but it was the kind of love that you could find in a book. Often, real life tended to disappoint you and if there was something that you cherished enough to not get it ruined by it, it was definitely love.
Before Kookie could say anything, your doorbell rang, and you took it as an excuse to exit the conversation. It was a coward move, you knew it, but your heart was feeling too raw for bravery. So, you ran downstairs to answer the door, leaving a sad but determined Jungkook behind.
***
“Is everything ready, Y/N?” Jimin asked.
You tried to not stare at him too much. Seriously, how were you going to survive college alone with him? You felt like dying. Like digging your own hole and bury yourself there without ever leaving it again.
“Yeah, it is. I have few boxes I want to donate first but aside from that I am good to go,” you answered.
Tae cooed, “aww, our baby Y/N is finally growing up.”
You shot him a deadly glare, “I’m the eldest! Show some respect.”
“Ah, I’m sorry,” said Tae with a grin, “old lady.”
You wondered if it was socially accepted to murder a friend for being called old. You supposed not, but maybe if no one found out…
“Alright, children! I’m done.” Jungkook had just entered your house with a big grin on his face. Ever since he started working out, he became quite the show off, and what better opportunity to prove everyone his bulky figure than carrying all your boxed in your car? You weren’t complaining.
“Good job, Hercules,” you said, “now let’s go or we will be late.”
“Ah, you guys go ahead,” Jungkook said.
You looked at him confused, “Kookie? Is everything alright?”
Your brother nodded and smiled at you. “Yeah, me and Tae have something to do first.”
“We do?” said a puzzled Tae. Jungkook shot him a deadly glare, so he coughed and said, “ah, yes we do. Very important indeed.”
You narrowed your eyes at them. They were definitely being suspicious, and you did not trust the knowing look that passed between them, but before you could question them, Jimin called your name and the fear of being late overcame your curiosity.
_
“So, how is it going?”
You rolled on your back, resting your phone in between your ear and shoulder while packing your books in the bag. “It’s been alright, I guess. I met a guy, Yoongi, on the first day and now we pretty much always go to lectures together.”
Jungkook hummed over the phone, “nothing else?”
You frowned, holding the phone with your hand. “You’re being weird.”
You heard your brother nervously chuckle from the other end of the phone and if you weren’t sure before that something was up, you definitely were now. You decided that you would investigate later considering that you were done for the day and all you wanted to do was go back to your room and have a nap.
“Have you seen Jimin much?” he asked you.
You sighed, “not much. I guess we’ve both been very busy. It has only been two weeks since we started.”
Your conversation carried on for a little longer and when it came to say goodbye to your brother you felt a pinch of nostalgia hitting you, wishing that both him and Taehyung could be there with you. You weren’t being completely honest with him about Jimin, but you were not ready yet to tell him that you had been trying to avoid since you arrived there. You were scared that being alone with Jimin would cause your feelings to resurface and potentially ruin your friendship.
“Y/N? Is that you?”
You were snapped back to reality by a guy approaching you. You stopped in the middle of the courtyard and blinked once, then you blinked again. Was that really…?
“Kim Seokjin?” you asked, not quite believing that the guy you had liked for awhile in High School was also attending your same college. Seriously, how small was the world?
Seokjin smiled at you, “I almost didn’t recognise you. You know, with the glasses and all,” he said waving at you.
You smiled, and you were quite sure you were blushing a bit. You had not seen Seokjin in months, and even before then you two weren’t exactly friends. Although Seokjin had always being very nice and charming to you, helping you out during Maths and always offering you a cookie whenever you had a bad day. Your crush for him had not been anything serious, you supposed. It had probably been the result of his caring attention and the fact that you had always wanted to believe in love so much that you portrayed your fantasies on the first handsome guy who so much looked at you.
You two started a conversation, catching up on each other’s life, on college. It was so easy to talk to him, especially now without your constant blushing and stammering. Jin made you promise to study together one of these days and, although your heart did not thump harder and no butterfly woke up in your stomach, you were happy. Perhaps this was the beginning of a nice friendship.
_
“I cannot believe that you really showed up hangover on your very first day,” you said to Yoongi, who in turn simply shrugged and took a bite of his sandwich.
“Surely is not that unreasonable?”
“Jimin! Don’t encourage him, please.”
You were sitting in the courtyard, technically studying with Jimin, Yoongi and Jin but practically you were all enjoying the sun and getting distracted. It was strange to be again in a group of four where your brother and Taehyung were missing, but Yoongi and Jin were slowly becoming good friends. It has been Jimin’s idea to study all together, he had suggested several times that although the gang would always be the gang, perhaps it was time for you two to expand your friendship group. So, you agreed and offered to ask Yoongi and Jin to come along while Jimin asked a friend of his, Hoseok, to join as well.
“Hello, you must all be the friends Jimin was telling me about.”
You turned around to look at the guy you could only assume to be Jung Hoseok and smiled at him. But before you could say yes, Yoongi mumbled something along the lines of “not sure we can say friends” but you elbowed him slightly and made room for Hoseok who, credit to him, did not lose his sunny smile after hearing Yoongi’s word.
“We are. Nice to meet you, I’m Y/N and Mr. grumpy here is Yoongi.”
And so, your life started taking an unexpected but utterly pleasant turn. You were making friends, you were happy, and there was no talking of love and relationship. All was well.
_
You were late. Terribly, unmistakably, and horribly late. You knew you should have not run in the hallways, but seriously what other choice did you have? Later on, when you would think of this exact moment, you will agree that arriving late for a lecture would have been a much better option than running straight into someone. And not just a random someone, no. Because life could not be kind to you, so the Universe had decided that the person you would knock over on the floor was no one else than your Middle School crush, Kim Namjoon himself, the pain of your existence and your fiercest rival. And of course, he attended your same college, how silly of you to think otherwise.
“Oh no no no, I’m so sorry,” you said while helping him collect his belongings. You didn’t know what to panic for: still being late for your lectures or encountering your nemesis?
“Why am I not surprised that you are here?”
His voice was just as icy as you remembered it to be. Or rather, just as icy with you as you remembered. Because there was a reason why he had been your Middle School crush, aside from the constant banter and the fact that at the time you were really into enemies to lovers type of books. Kim Namjoon had a sweet and calm voice, almost hypnotising. And now, almost 10 years later, his voice was also ridiculously manly. And the butterflies that you thought died inside your stomach? They were suddenly back, storming inside your body. Because his voice was not only manly, but also insanely attractive. And your betraying heart skipped several beats when your eyes landed on him. Kim Namjoon was a sight to see. Not only was he now tall (the perfect height for you to lean your head on this shoulder), but also a man. And you were only human, after all. A very weak one.
“Can you stop staring at me?” he asked not so friendly.
You wanted to hide, far away, somewhere where you would never have to encounter him again. Of course, he caught you staring at him, your luck was embarrassing. “Sorry, I was just surprised to see you here.”
He scoffed, “you surely did not think you were the only one smart enough to be here?”
Yes, maybe Kim Namjoon was now more attractive than you would have liked, but you also remembered how vexed he made you feel. “Does everything have to be a fight with you?” you hissed in return.
He rolled his eyes at you, “only with annoying people.”
You groaned, “you’re just as obnoxious as I remembered.”
“I beg your pardon? You’re the one who clashed into me, knocked all of my things on the floor and then stared at me for 10 minutes-”
“It was not 10 minutes!” you protested. Seriously, he was so irritating.
“Whatever, I don’t have time for this. Now because of you I will be late,” he said.
You gasped. Your lecture! You did not even respond to him, you simply sprinted away, hoping that the professor would allow you to enter the class (spoiler: he did not) and that you would never meet Namjoon again (spoiler: you did. Several times).
_
“And he’s so annoying! Why does he have to be friend with Yoongi? He’s infiltrating my group and soon enough they will get rid of me,” you said munching on your dumplings and pointing the chopstick at your screen where two confused Tae and Jungkook were looking at you. “He hates me!”
“Y/N, don’t you think you’re exaggerating?” Taehyung asked.
You shook your head, gulping down your last dumpling. “He despises me! Don’t you remember how he was in Middle School?”
Jungkook shrugged, “Namjoon-hyung was always very polite with me. I actually quite liked the guy.”
Taehyung nodded, “he really was!”
You groaned, pressing your face into your pillow, “I can’t believe you’re siding with the enemy.”
“You know what, Y/N? One might even think that you still like him,” said Taehyung with a smirk.
You frowned, “what do you mean ‘still like him’? What do you know?” You were now incredibly suspicious. How did he know about your, very much past, crush for Namjoon? As far as you were aware, no one knew anything about your love life.
Jungkook chuckled nervously, “he’s just joking. We must go now, bye sister!” And then he hung up on you.
Those two were up to something, and there was only one person that could tell you what was going on. It was finally time to find Jimin and put an end to your avoiding behaviour.
_
You were almost halfway through when you spotted Jin coming towards you, looking quite conflicted. You noticed his posture was strangely stiff and that he could not quite meat your eyes. When he said hello to you, his voice was tense.
“Is everything okay, Jin?” you asked. You watched him huff and fidget with something in his hand. An envelope. A pink envelope. A very familiar, pink envelope. Panic started crawling on you. It could not be real.
“I received this,” he said waving the letter at you, looking the very description of discomfort. “Look, Y/N, I am honoured, really, but I thought we were only friends. I didn’t know you felt differently.”
“Oh no,” you started panting, panic overwhelming you. You could not breathe; your world was spinning around you, and you could hardly feel the ground beneath your feet. “How did you-”
“Y/N! Are you okay?” Seokjin was now seriously worried about you.
You forced yourself to take in a couple of steadying breaths. “I did not send that,” you said with a small voice. You truly hoped this was just a nightmare, a cruel mistake at best.
Seokjin scratched his head, “but it has been signed by you?”
You laughed nervously, “I know. I have written it years ago. I never intended for it to reach you.”
“So… you love me?”
You shook your head, “no. Don’t get me wrong, at the time I thought I did but…I only wrote it to remind myself of how I felt. I don’t even know why you have it.”
He nodded, passing the envelope to you. “I think you should have it back then.”
You thanked him, taking the letter from him. “Seokjin?”
“Yes?”
“Are we still friends?” you asked hesitantly, not daring to meet his eyes.
He smiled at you and bumped your shoulder with his. “Of course we are. Although, I am a bit hurt that I was not the only one to receive such a beautiful letter.”
You froze, terror taking control of your brain. Not the only one?
“Namjoon seemed quite shocked when he read his.”
Oh no. No no no no no.
If Namjoon had received your letter, which was in itself already bad, then that meant that there was a chance that Jimin had gotten his.
_
You needed to find Jimin. Truthfully, you had no idea what to tell him. It was true, you did not love Seokjin, nor Namjoon, but how could you lie to your dearest friend? How could you look at him in the eyes and tell him that it had all been a mistake? But it’s not as if you could tell him the truth either. Perhaps, you thought, he didn’t receive his letter. Maybe, whomever sent them did not find the one addressed to Jimin. But who did send them? The only thing you could think about was that the box in which they were kept had mistakenly being put with the ones destined to be donated. And then the person who had found them had thought that they ended up there by accident when you were actually meant to send them out. It was your own fault for writing down the full address on each one.
“Y/N! Wait up!”
You stopped in your tracks and closed your eyes, hoping that maybe if you could not see him then he would not see you.
“What is the meaning of this?” Namjoon asked. You opened up one eye to look at him handing you his blue envelope. Of course he saw you.
You sighed and took the envelope. “A mistake, that’s what is it. I did not send it out, if that’s what you’re asking.”
He raised an eyebrow and folded his arms on his chest, “maybe not, but you still wrote it.”
Ouch. You scoffed, “don’t flatter yourself. It means nothing.”
“It said you love me. It said, and I quote, ‘I tried everything I could to stop loving the way my soul calls to yours’-”
You pressed your hands to his mouth, not even caring about invading his personal space or that this was the first time your skin came into contact with his. “Ah, ah! Don’t want to hear about it.”
“Look,” you said taking a step back but still watching carefully in case he decided to randomly quote what you wrote at the age of 13. “I wrote this years ago and never intended for it to reach you.”
“You addressed it,” he stated.
“Sorry?”
He huffed, “you wrote my full address. It came to my house and my mother had to send it to me here. If you never intended to reach me, why did you address it and stamp it?”
You opened your mouth to protest but could not think of many things to say that weren’t ‘I don’t know’. So, you stayed silent.
Exasperated, you looked around. Everywhere, really, so that you didn’t need to look at his piercing eyes. That’s when you noticed Jimin walking towards you, a yellow envelope in his hand.
You don’t know exactly what happened in your brain back then, but you had no time to ponder your next move. All you could think about was making sure that Jimin would never find out about your feelings for him. And so, there was only one thing left for you to do.
You wrapped your arms around Namjoon’s neck, and you kissed him. Despite the terror that seeing Jimin had caused you, you could not help but notice how warm and soft his lips were, how firm his body was against yours. And how his hand unmistakeably grabbed your waist for a brief second. How his lips had moved against yours.
It all lasted so briefly before he pulled himself away from you. You did not hear him asking you what you were thinking, all that you could notice was that Jimin had left. Your plan had worked, for now. All you needed to worry about now was a flustered and angered Namjoon.
You raised a hand to silence his stream of consciousness, “I need you to be my fake boyfriend.”
“Pardon?”
He was speechless, and rightfully so. You even doubted you were making any sense. But somehow it did, in some deep and twisted part of your brain.
“Jimin,” you started to explain, “he has the same letter you and Jin have. I wrote them in different periods of time and, before you ask, I don’t know why I stamped them. Maybe a part of him wanted one of you to know, to return my feelings. I don’t love you, nor Seokjin for that matter, but I do love Jimin. And he is the only person who can never find out.”
Namjoon stayed silent for several minutes, trying to take everything in. “What is it that you are asking of me, exactly?”
You sighed, “if I could pretend I am actually in love with someone else, if I can show him that that letter belongs to the past, perhaps I can still save our friendship. You don’t owe me anything, Kim Namjoon, but what I am asking of you is: will you be my fake boyfriend?”
I am writing a multi chapter BTS Story roughly based on the movie “To all the boys I’ve loved before”.
So far that’s what I’ve got:
Summary: you’re starting your first year of college and you’ve never had a boyfriend before. Your brother Jungkook finds three love letters you wrote to your childhood (Jimin), middle school (Namjoon) and high school (Jin) crushes and sends them out. Little did he know all of them were attending the same college as you.
It’s going to be a Namjoon x reader story.
Jungkook: the little but not so little brother
Taehyung: Jungkook’s best friend and troublemaker
Hoseok: Y/N’s bestfriend in love with Yoongi
Yoongi: Namjoon’s bestfriend
Jimin: sweet childhood crush who’s not so sweet anymore
Fox Hybrid! Jin, Human! Namjoon, Human! Yoongi, Wolf Hybrid! Hoseok, Cat Hybrid! Jimin, Wolf Hybrid! Taehyung, Fox Hybrid! Jungkook
Genre: Hybrid AU || Fluff || Angst || Smut/ implied smut || Strangers to lovers AU || Best friends to lovers AU
Summary: All Jin can think to do is try and kiss it all better.
Word count: 7.6k
Tags/ warnings: blood is mentioned a lot, lots of crying, angst/ comfort (it’s more comfort), fluffy-ish, violence (but its deserved), the pain if finally over, hybrid mistreatment, me thinks that is all
Notes: second to last chapter lets gooooo. i also planned for like super soft smut in the next chapter, like a cute way to end the series but oh my god the cringe, jail time, will never see the light of day. so idk if there will be which im pissed about and i’m too scared to ask someone for help :’( and i’m shy but i’m open to suggestions! i’ve also been stressed because i have to write a graduation speech and my brain has fully stopped working so this chapter is a lil late and i’m a tiny bit unhappy with it because i feel like something is missing but my brain is fried.
Summary- Results of a pregnancy test lead to heavy conversations.
word count- 3.6k
pairing- idol!namjoon x ceo!reader
rating- PG 15
genre- series, idolau, fluff, smut, angst
warnings- unwanted pregnancy, talks of abortion, allusions to depression and anxiety, panic attack (brief), SO MUCH ANGST.
a.n- well after 2952905209582 years im back with an update and all I can say is im sorry but the angst is upon us! hopefully the next update won’t take me too long to finish! hope you enjoy this chapter and stay with this couple. I really do love them and im looking forward to you following the rest of their journey (as slow as it may be)
A special thank you to @casuallyimagining for hearing me screaming about this wip for ages and @m-yg93 for beta reading this for me! Love you both!
As always feedback appreciated. Send me an ask!
You stared at the tiles of the cold bathroom floor as you sat next to Namjoon, timer on your phone counting down the seconds to your fate. Your thoughts were dramatic, loudly knocking around your brain, but all you could focus on was the little grime between the white tiles that was missed by the cleaners. You had half a mind to get up to scrub it out just to give you something to do, but Namjoon’s hand was holding yours tight, his eyes glued to the pregnancy test placed in front of you. You had left it upside down to save yourself from the suspense – not that it helped.
“Are we… are we excit-” Namjoon began only to be cut off by the shrill alarm from your phone. The two of you stared at one another for a while, too scared to look at the results. With one hand still in his, you reached for the test, flipping it over to see the results
Two lines.
Positive.
You exhaled loudly, your heart pounding as you looked at Namjoon who was still staring at the little white stick on the floor, his mouth falling open. When he looked at you, his mouth turned into a huge smile, one that deepened his dimples and scrunched his eyes till they were invisible. While waiting for the results he didn’t know what he wanted it to say, but as soon as he saw it, he couldn’t help the way joy bubbled through him. You were pregnant. He was going to be a dad and before he knew it his hands were cupping your face and pulling you into a kiss, gentle and reverent, as if he was pouring all the love he had into it.
“We’re pregnant,” he sighed, his forehead on yours, his fingers gently stroking the nape of your neck.
“We are,” you replied, but instead of the exhilarated tone that Namjoon sported, yours was almost empty, devoid of any emotions. It made him startle, pulling away from you to gauge your neutral expression.
“Are we not happy about this?” he asked, only for you to stand up and walk towards the living room where you sat on the couch, staring into space. He followed you, sitting beside you, hesitant, a hand holding yours. You fingers remained limp as he entwined them, caging his heart in his chest as it banged against the walls, faster and faster.
He didn’t know how long you stared blankly at the wall in front you, unblinking, frightening him beyond belief. It could’ve been minutes, it could’ve been hours, your eyes pointed to the latest painting he had acquired decorating the blank wall. He looked away from you after a while, taking in the abstract as well, letting the rusty hues embrace him, comfort him like they did the day he ran across them at a gallery. But the smoky haze around the rust pounced on him, coloring his thoughts with fear he hadn’t seen in the artwork before, the fear of the inevitable, the fear of the inescapable. It clouded his lungs, making them heavier with each breath, stepping on his trachea, until suddenly you were moving, leaving his hand and reaching for the laptop on the coffee table in front of you, typing away.
“What are you doing?” he whispered, scared that if he spoke any louder you would shatter, or shatter him. He wasn’t sure which one he preferred.
“Setting up an appointment. Need to confirm with the gynaecologist,” you replied curtly, face vacant of any emotion, eyes scrolling the screen, searching.
“Oh… yeah of course. Yeah,” he murmured, trying to gather all his patience till it ran away from him and he was turning towards you fully, a leg coming up to rest against the cushions and hands moving to your shoulders. He traced your cheek with a finger, wanting you to let him into your head, searching your eyes that looked at him listlessly. Mustering a smile, he tried to reassure you, “But hey listen. We’ll be okay. It’s us. We can do this.”
“Namjoon. We’re not having a baby,” you said, firm and final. You didn’t want to fantasise about maybes, you needed solutions, a way to fix what might destroy your life, and for a moment, you didn’t care what Namjoon thought. He would be okay. You would make him understand eventually.
“What?” His voice was sharp, cracking through the silence, hands falling away from you, face tightening into the hard lines you rarely saw. And somehow you felt angry. You knew he wanted kids, he had always wanted kids, cuddling you in bed and waxing poetic about someone you’d both create, but he had to realise it was too soon.
“We’re not ready! Think about it. We’ve barely been together for two years! Having a baby right now is insane,” you ranted, tossing your laptop back on the coffee table just so you could look at him, make him understand how drastically your life could change. You expected Namjoon to fight, but instead he moved closer, cupping your face between his palms, gazing at you softly.
“What does time have anything to do with it? I love you, you love me. That’s all we need,” he assured. He knew that this was not the plan, he was supposed to give you the ring first, he was supposed to learn how to cook your favourite dish and surprise you on your honeymoon first, he was supposed to buy the house with the large yard that reminded you of your childhood first. But who was he to reject fate when it came knocking on his door?
“The timing isn’t right Joonie. You know it’s not,” you pleaded, tone softened to match his, but you could see the frustration growing within him, the tell tale tightening of his jaw sparking your earlier anger. Anger that ignited at his next words, spitting out of his mouth as he dropped his hands from your cheeks to your shoulders as if trying to shake some sense into you.
“Oh come on Y/N! Why are you acting like we’re sixteen and got pregnant? We’re almost thirty. We’re both financially stable. The timing’s not the issue here.”
“Of course it is! Or do you not remember crying on this fucking couch about your year long tour?” You brushed him off, standing up to give yourself some distance, but he followed suit, coming closer, confusing you with the whiplash of him yelling and then pleading all in one go.
“I’ll get them to move it around!” he insisted, running his hands over his face before he hugged you close, murmuring in your ear, “We’ll figure it out. It’s our baby.”
“It’s not a baby! It’s a collection of cells,” you pushed him off once again, trying your hardest to make him understand the gravity of the situation. Having a baby wasn’t a one time thing, it was something that could change all of your plans, that could change the course of your lives. “You can’t move around the tour! It’s impossible. We can have a baby in the future. It’s just not right.”
“Then I’ll fucking quit! It doesn’t matter. I’d do that for you,” he promised, determined, jaw clenching, fists balled at his sides.
“I don’t want that,” you implored, voice strained, goosebumps running up your spine. “I can’t get pregnant. Harry quit, I need to be in the comp-”
“Fuck the company! It’s our baby,” Namjoon yelled, startling you as he came closer. “If I can quit, so can you. We can still be happy!”
“I can’t quit! Are you insane?” you matched his volume, wanting so badly to knock some sense into him, your fists gripping his shirt at his chest.
“You have majority shares, you’ll be fine,” he promised, holding you, trying to comfort you but he just didn’t understand. How could you prove every misogynist that sat on that board that you were indeed who they predicted, just a woman abandoning her hard work to build a family?
“No,” you said, pushing him away once again, unaware of your strength as he stumbled back, a look of betrayal marring his features. “You can quit, but I can’t.”
“Why?” he protested.
“Because you’re already successful!” you yelled, feeling all the energy sapping out of you with your retort, leaving your knees shaking, your entire body quivering. “You’ve already reached your dreams. I can’t abandon mine. Joonie, please.”
The way you pleaded made his heart shatter, made him fall into a million pieces as he felt his eyes burn, his sinuses clogging with the dissonance of empathy and selfishness, because to Namjoon his dream wasn’t being an idol, it was you and now your unborn child.
“That’s not my dream… not anymore,” he declared softly, head bowed as if you had slapped him and you couldn’t take it anymore, sitting back on the couch to book the appointment.
“Let’s talk about it after the appointment,” you whispered, heart beating against your chest, clawing at it as you ran through contingencies, figuring out where you could get an abortion in a nation that had them criminalized. You knew you were breaking Namjoon, and you hated it, but he didn’t understand what was at stake for you. How many endless nights you had spent working to make a name for yourself, to make something out of nothing but your ideas and relentless grit. How you had faced rejection after rejection before uprooting your life, leaving your family behind, and now you were on the cusp of where you had envisioned yourself in your tiny dorm room so many years ago. How could he expect you to throw it all away? All for some fault in your birth control?
You ignored Namjoon as he sat on the couch next to you, his body as drained as yours, defeat pouring out of every pore. He couldn’t help silently weeping, hoping that you’d change your mind, that you’d suddenly tell him you were joking, wrap him in your arms and tell him congratulations. Then he could laugh, joke with you about scaring the life out of him, kiss you and run to his closet and pull out the ring. But the real joke was that you just sat there long after you had shut the laptop, the distance between you growing.
He hated it. He hated that somehow you felt like a stranger in that moment. He understood you, knew the pressures that threatened to bury you at every moment, but he still couldn’t help wishing that you would listen to him. He wasn’t alone when he fantasised about kids, you were there with him in the nights after he had exhausted your body, holding you warm between the sheets as he talked about the family two of you would create. You would tell him the names you wanted, about how you hoped your child wouldn’t lose the little shoes he had gotten so long ago now.
He wanted to reach out and comfort you, even though you had just broken his heart. It was stupid how you were also the only one who could heal him, reassure him that his dream wasn’t futile, that wanting you, wanting a family wasn’t as far off as it seemed in the moment. But as he gathered the courage, slowly inching his hand closer to yours, you stood up walking to the kitchen, leaving him frozen on the couch.
Cutting the vegetables for a meal always calmed you, but each time the knife hit the cutting board, you felt your heartbeat in your ears, your breaths getting shorter till you were squatting on the floor, head between your knees. You knew you would lose Namjoon, in all this time, there was a niggling thought at the back of your mind that he would wake up and realise that what he thought was love was an infatuation, much like others before him. However, you hadn’t thought of how you would push him away, how you would cut his heart out and present it to him. Your words ran through your head, harsh and selfish as you pictured the man you love getting more and more dejected, tears falling down your cheeks. You tried to compose yourself, control your breathing, remembering to count the rise of your chest. You breathed in for five seconds, letting the air inflate your lungs, holding it for another five, before expelling it out with your doubts.
It didn’t take long for the panic to subside, for your tears to dry – years of practice had that effect, and soon you were standing up once again, trying to dispel the disappointment that washed over you when Namjoon was still sitting in the living room, still staring at the wall like you had left him. You were disappointed in yourself, but you were still firm in your decision. You couldn’t give him what he wanted, not now.
Cooking dinner helped you collect your thoughts, get brave as you called him to the kitchen, yet not brave enough to hold him like you wanted to. Dinner was spent in silence, the tension of the fight lingering in the air like acid, peeling off your skin and leaving it raw. Every moment felt hesitant, laced with anxiety, heavy like gravity had increased tenfold. In bed, the two of you faced away from each other, an ocean between you of worries furrowing your brows and sinking your hearts.
But Namjoon was brave. Or maybe he was too scared to let the argument take roots in the foundation you two had worked hard to build. He could feel it seeping in, trying to lodge its claws in, and so in the silence hanging like tendrils of a willow, he said your name, letting it act as an anchor as he tentatively turned around, his hand reaching out for you, fingers gently grazing your back. When you ignored him, not knowing how to face him after the way you had acted, he tried again, mature and persistent.
“Can I hold you?” he whispered, his index finger poking your back ever so softly. It ached your heart, his timid tone making your lip wobble as you shrugged. He took that as an agreement because you had barely moved your shoulders before his body was around you, long limbs wrapping you in a safe embrace. The breath you released was hallowed, a shaky exhale burning your lungs and stinging your eyes. You grasped his hands tightly in yours, criss crossing your arms around your body and he moved closer, head almost on top of yours, needing to be closer.
“I love you.” His proclamation was comforting, even when his voice was waterlogged and his tears tracked from his cheeks to yours.
“Even if I don’t want this baby?” You needed to know. You didn’t know if you would change your mind. You were in no position to bring a child into the world, not yet. You needed the reassurance that he trusted you, and would wait for you. He was quiet for a moment, more hesitant than he had ever been with you and it made your heart pound beneath your chest, begging for an escape.
“Even if you don’t want this baby,” he confirmed, his nose tracing your cheek and you couldn’t help a tear escape along with a flurry of apologies that he kissed away. Sleep was elusive and his snores never came to comfort you with their lullabies. Lost in your own thoughts you stayed wrapped in each other till the sun was fighting to peep in through your drapes, alerting you that in a few hours you both would have to make the biggest decision in your relationship.
It was quiet in the little hospital room, bright lights and the plants secluded in the corner of the pastel room not bringing any comfort to the two of you as you sat stiffly in the plush chairs behind the large oak desk. The receptionist had quietly escorted you to the room to wait till the doctor was ready, and you were glad that Namjoon had less of a chance of being spotted in a gynaecologist’s office.
He held your hand as you sat together, grip unfaltering even when the nurse came in to draw some blood. He watched over his glasses as you drew in a sharp inhale when the needle pricked through your skin, your fingers around his tightening just a little. He wished he wasn’t in this situation, that time had been kinder and given you the successes you wanted at the same time as him so you felt ready to start a family to truly be with him. But nothing ever went according to plan for him, and even when it did, it didn’t work like he had thought.
He had experienced it in his career. The poetry he used to write in his childhood bedroom on his scattered desk had now transformed into lyrics echoed in strangers’ bedrooms. He had worked harder than anything to ensure that, put his youth as collateral, put his relationships as collateral for his success and he had achieved it. Yet, each moment felt frayed. He never had the opportunity to sit still long enough to actually relish the fruits of his labours to enjoy it before he was working on the next thing, trying to block out the voices that told him he wasn’t good enough. He worked to prove them wrong and when he did, they always relegated his efforts to luck. It was frustrating. This was not how he thought reaching his goals would feel like, bittersweet and fleeting.
It was the same with you sometimes. He never imagined a partner was in the cards for him, never imagined that someone would ever care enough about him to love him despite his flaws, but you had. You showed him that it was okay to break down, to let down his walls, and so he worked hard to ensure he never lost you, read books on how to be the perfect partner, a “female-written male character”. But even with your voice telling him he was enough, he was eager to move onto the next step to prove even further how perfect he could be for you. You didn’t pressure him into, you didn’t need to, he was conditioned to want more, to always want more. He just didn’t think you wouldn’t want more with him.
However, when the doctor walked in, he wished that he could convince you otherwise. Maybe if you could see the bundle of cells the two of you had created together, you could envision the future with him. He held your hand as the doctor talked, barely registering what she was saying because he was too anxious, too impatient for her to do an ultrasound. You wouldn’t want an abortion if you saw it, right? But nothing ever went according to plan for him. There was no ultrasound. The movies he had watched had lied to him. All the doctor did was look at a report on her tablet, smiling sadly.
“So Y/N, I’ve got some bad news,” she began and Namjoon’s heart pounded in panic, a sheen of sweat already appearing on his forehead. Her tone made a chill travel up his spine and he tightened his grip on your fingers, bracing himself. “Unfortunately, you are not pregnant.”
He knew he should’ve been relieved, just like you seemed to be, your shoulders relaxing and a breath escaping your lips, but his throat ran dry, all the moisture seeming to deposit into his eyes. You smiled at him and he reciprocated, happy to see you happy. He had to be happy, right? There was no reason to mourn something that was never there, but with every question you asked the doctor, he felt more helpless. Folding his hands in his lap, he stared at them solemnly. Apparently pregnancy tests could be wrong if they’re expired. He didn’t even know they had an expiration date, but then again did he know anything at all?
Turns out he didn’t even know you, feeling irrationally annoyed at the sudden pep in your step as the two of you made your way to the car. You were already on the phone scheduling something or the other with Siwon, oblivious to the tears in his eyes as he stared at the passing blur of the streets.
“Joon?” your voice broke him from his thoughts and he cleared his throat, humming in response. “You okay?”
He should’ve told you the truth, enlightened you to the flurry in his head, but when he turned to you, you seemed so relaxed, so happy that he didn’t have the courage to dampen the bright smile on your face. So he lied, “Yeah. I’m okay. You?”
You didn’t believe him. Somehow in your relief you had failed to notice how closed off your boyfriend had become. Sequestered in the corner, he seemed impossibly small in the seat, his shoulders hunched, his hands resting in between his joined knees. He seemed to be almost closing in on himself. You thought he would be relieved too, relieved that you didn’t have to make a monumental decision, that you didn’t have to change the trajectory of your relationship over a mistake, but his dejected aura made you forget about your earlier joy, your arms wrapping around him.
You were almost afraid he wouldn’t reciprocate your gesture but soon his arms were wrapping around you too, his face buried in your hair as he inhaled deeply. It was as if the edge of last night’s fight was still there, threatening to pop the bubble the two of you had created in the backseat of the car, but you were stubborn, holding him tighter and refusing to let the agony manifest again.
“We’ll be okay,” assured him as he straightened, his tired eyes staring at you.
“We’ll be okay,” he promised, a hand cupping your face before his lips met yours, gentle and loving.
¼ of the amazing quartet, i will do the other 3 in due time! i love my queen, i live for her werewolf au, plus there’s always the right mix of angst, fluff, and smut that is always chefs kiss… i super like that although her male characters are so obviously strong they are super soft too then it comes to female leads… and and and theres sort of redemption always for characters like Yoongi in Third Wheeling & Jimin in Bird Cage.
below are my fave fics from this author, but please do go ahead and browse all her works as they are all equally beautiful.
I Waited for You - just because its a Kim Seokjin fic and he’s an alpha!!! maybe i have not explored tumblr properly but i have come across very few Alpha Seokjin stories.
Welcome to Seoul Land - again, just because its a Kim Namjoon fic and werewolf au. my queen did not disappoint! Namjoon is so soft, ima cry…
When it Rain it Pours - i was swooning, a soft Namjoon for a roommate turned lovers…
What’s up Doc - ooohhhhh! soft Yoongi and i love the part where they whispers while waiting for test results, its so cute i swear! but, don’t be fooled coz we are talking about the queen here so the smut is top tier as per usual.
Snowed In&Live, Laugh, Love - bestfriends to lovers stories featuring our eternal sunshine Hoseok. imagine Hoseok telling his girlfriend that his best friend means the most to him in the world!!! if that is not in love i dont know what.. but, Hoseok in our queens story is amazing.
Siver & Blue - alpha Taehyung with lots of smuts, what else can you ask for?
hello! i don’t know what to call this other than to appreciate this author.
i love this author and i don’t think i have ever said why? sure there’s romance, fluff, smuts galore, but most importantly real issues are discussed. and i have found myself crying more than anything else when i’m reading stories from this author. Of Boogers and Tteokbokki - God! the assumption drawn in this story that led to misunderstanding and hurt and separation! im a mom so feel the female character’s desire to keep her baby. iknow that even confronted with a possibility of having a child with Down Syndrome, i would have chosen to push through with it. Call of Duty - my goodness, i cannot imagine what every wife, husband, father, mother, daughter, son goes through when they are told that their loved one in uniform is missing or that something has happened to them. how it feels to send them off while thinking at the back of your mind if this will be the last you will see them. shhhh… you know the pic in this story? yes, that’s my lock screen image… BEAR and SPARROW - i have read countless stories of people escaping their own country via illegal means, have watch multiple documentary and its heart breaking… i hav eto be honest that i stopped reading after chapter 3, so scared that the author will take the route of realism and have Sparrow die in the hands of police and get lost in the sea of missing immigrants… i have not found the courage to continue reading this… Road to Redemption - this one hit hard, so damn hard!!! i cried a river. it hit home, so very very very close to home. the plates in the sink, check! socks not in the hamper but in the fucking dining chair, check! the procrastination, hell check!!! and what really hurts, is when he tells you - “chill, will you relax??? i will take care of it” only to wake up the following morning with the same plates in the sink, the same sock in the dining chair, the multiple to do’s that should have been done last week. Stay - your latest story made my chest hurts so bad. i didn’t get my road to redemption (if u know what i mean), but i am so blessed to be surrounded by such a strong support system that never ever have i come close to succumbing to depression. all i know is that, its not easy to cry for help, coz its hard to swim to the surface and its pitch black below. i love you @sahmfanficbts, your stories ground me. it tells me that i am not alone in what i go through. i don’t know how to give back to content creator/writers like you, except to shout out to whoever follows me that you guys are the best out there!
hello! i don’t know what to call this other than to appreciate this author.
i love this author and i don’t think i have ever said why? sure there’s romance, fluff, smuts galore, but most importantly real issues are discussed. and i have found myself crying more than anything else when i’m reading stories from this author.
Of Boogers and Tteokbokki - God! the assumption drawn in this story that led to misunderstanding and hurt and separation! im a mom so feel the female character’s desire to keep her baby. iknow that even confronted with a possibility of having a child with Down Syndrome, i would have chosen to push through with it.
Call of Duty - my goodness, i cannot imagine what every wife, husband, father, mother, daughter, son goes through when they are told that their loved one in uniform is missing or that something has happened to them. how it feels to send them off while thinking at the back of your mind if this will be the last you will see them. shhhh… you know the pic in this story? yes, that’s my lock screen image…
BEAR and SPARROW - i hav read countless stories of people escaping their own country via illegal means, have watch multiple documentary and its heart breaking… i hav eto be honest that i stopped reading after chapter 3, so scared that the author will take the route of realism and have Sparrow die in the hands of police and get lost in the sea of missing immigrants… i have not found the courage to continue reading this…
Road to Redemption - this one hit hard, so damn hard!!! i cried a river. it hit home, so very very very close to home. the plates in the sink, check! socks not in the hamper but in the fucking dining chair, check! the procrastination, hell check!!! and what really hurts, is when he tells you - “chill, will you relax??? i will take care of it” only to wake up the following morning with the same plates in the sink, the same sock in the dining chair, the multiple to do’s that should have been done last week.
Stay - your latest story made my chest hurts so bad. i didn’t get my road to redemption (if u know what i mean), but i am so blessed to be surrounded by such a strong support system that never ever have i come close to succumbing to depression. all i know is that, its not easy to cry for help, coz its hard to swim to the surface and its pitch black below.
i love you @sahmfanficbts, your stories ground me. it tells me that i am not alone in what i go through. i don’t know how to give back to content creator/writers like you, except to shout out to whoever follows me that you guys are the best out there!
hello! i don’t know what to call this other than to appreciate this author.
i love this author and i don’t think i have ever said why? sure there’s romance, fluff, smuts galore, but most importantly real issues are discussed. and i have found myself crying more than anything else when i’m reading stories from this author.
Of Boogers and Tteokbokki - God! the assumption drawn in this story that led to misunderstanding and hurt and separation! im a mom so feel the female character’s desire to keep her baby. iknow that even confronted with a possibility of having a child with Down Syndrome, i would have chosen to push through with it.
Call of Duty - my goodness, i cannot imagine what every wife, husband, father, mother, daughter, son goes through when they are told that their loved one in uniform is missing or that something has happened to them. how it feels to send them off while thinking at the back of your mind if this will be the last you will see them. shhhh… you know the pic in this story? yes, that’s my lock screen image…
BEAR and SPARROW - i hav read countless stories of people escaping their own country via illegal means, have watch multiple documentary and its heart breaking… i hav eto be honest that i stopped reading after chapter 3, so scared that the author will take the route of realism and have Sparrow die in the hands of police and get lost in the sea of missing immigrants… i have not found the courage to continue reading this…
Road to Redemption - this one hit hard, so damn hard!!! i cried a river. it hit home, so very very very close to home. the plates in the sink, check! socks not in the hamper but in the fucking dining chair, check! the procrastination, hell check!!! and what really hurts, is when he tells you - “chill, will you relax??? i will take care of it” only to wake up the following morning with the same plates in the sink, the same sock in the dining chair, the multiple to do’s that should have been done last week.
Stay - your latest story made my chest hurts so bad. i didn’t get my road to redemption (if u know what i mean), but i am so blessed to be surrounded by such a strong support system that never ever have i come close to succumbing to depression. all i know is that, its not easy to cry for help, coz its hard to swim to the surface and its pitch black below.
i love you @sahmfanficbts, your stories ground me. it tells me that i am not alone in what i go through. i don’t know how to give back to content creator/writers like you, except to shout out to whoever follows me that you guys are the best out there!
hello! i don’t know what to call this other than to appreciate this author.
i love this author and i don’t think i have ever said why? sure there’s romance, fluff, smuts galore, but most importantly real issues are discussed. and i have found myself crying more than anything else when i’m reading stories from this author.
Of Boogers and Tteokbokki - God! the assumption drawn in this story that led to misunderstanding and hurt and separation! im a mom so feel the female character’s desire to keep her baby. iknow that even confronted with a possibility of having a child with Down Syndrome, i would have chosen to push through with it.
Call of Duty - my goodness, i cannot imagine what every wife, husband, father, mother, daughter, son goes through when they are told that their loved one in uniform is missing or that something has happened to them. how it feels to send them off while thinking at the back of your mind if this will be the last you will see them. shhhh… you know the pic in this story? yes, that’s my lock screen image…
BEAR and SPARROW - i hav read countless stories of people escaping their own country via illegal means, have watch multiple documentary and its heart breaking… i hav eto be honest that i stopped reading after chapter 3, so scared that the author will take the route of realism and have Sparrow die in the hands of police and get lost in the sea of missing immigrants… i have not found the courage to continue reading this…
Road to Redemption - this one hit hard, so damn hard!!! i cried a river. it hit home, so very very very close to home. the plates in the sink, check! socks not in the hamper but in the fucking dining chair, check! the procrastination, hell check!!! and what really hurts, is when he tells you - “chill, will you relax??? i will take care of it” only to wake up the following morning with the same plates in the sink, the same sock in the dining chair, the multiple to do’s that should have been done last week.
Stay - your latest story made my chest hurts so bad. i didn’t get my road to redemption (if u know what i mean), but i am so blessed to be surrounded by such a strong support system that never ever have i come close to succumbing to depression. all i know is that, its not easy to cry for help, coz its hard to swim to the surface and its pitch black below.
i love you @sahmfanficbts, your stories ground me. it tells me that i am not alone in what i go through. i don’t know how to give back to content creator/writers like you, except to shout out to whoever follows me that you guys are the best out there!
Creative Content Contributor:@baebae-goodnight (her mood boards are amazing - like all the damn time)
Rating: M - explicit sex, cursing, drinking
Word Count: 6k
Summary: Married by obligation, weighed down by circumstance. Except for those nights when you’re both drunk, falling into bed with one another and realizing you’re human. Occasionally this happens, occasionally you fuck. Until your life changes and you realize Namjoon, the very man you’re obligated to, might just be the very man that you crave.
☝this right here, is the story why i am here in tumblr. I stumbled upon Fal in WP but i always have a feeling that there’s more content from her (and eventually Shanna, too)…
i love this story so much!!! 6K words that tells you the story of 2 complete strangers, who made a conscious decision to choose each other inspite being force to a marriage. the whole story is so emotional for me coz its shows me how they feel, what goes on into their head… from both their POVs. i don’t have the proper words to describe how this story affects me. in just 6K i felt such longing, want, jealousy, frustration, love & desire to be there for someone. the story is so direct & straight forward that sometime it left me dizzy but at the same time i truly i understand how the 2 characters feel.
its impact is so great that after more than a year of being Fal’s follower, this story has become a sort of comfort story for me - the one i read after a bad day & im finally in my bed. the kind of story that i go to when i dont want to start a new story but would still like to read something.
Alice in the Madness of Wonderland: The Stygian Fairytale | Walkthrough
↳ Banner and dividers made by @kim-seok-jin. Thank you^^.
✉Titles:
➝Alice in the Madness of Wonderland: The Stygian Fairytale
➝Stygian (the madness corrupts me, and you, my saviour)
Though Alice ‘Y/N’ Liddell is overshadowed, and she doesn’t seem to think much of it, she yearns for a world which notices her- gives her a chance- a part of her wanting for a turn to be on the pedestal. But of course, nothing can change that-
Or can it?
One chance encounter with a boy with bunny ears and a strange hole, and she arrives at the world of Wonderland- a world of magic, mystery and madness. Protecting her life is one thing, but-
What more when everyone seems determined to capture her heart?
➠ Genres: Angst, fantasy, alice in wonderland!au, reverse harem, isekai (teleported to a fantasy world), mystery
➠ Overall Rating: PG-18
➠ Warnings: Violence, suicide, comatose, disturbing scenes, weapons, fights, yandere, insanity, mental illnesses, torture, massacre, serial killers, violent riots, executions, murders, large amount of people die, stalking, people lead other people on, threats, madness (but it’s wonderland so), tea parties and the white rabbit
✉ Beta-player [a.k.a. me, blog writer and walkthrough maker!] comments:
Several crashes may occur while playing the game, as the developers told me. This is still a beta version of the game, after all! The game also contains a lot of violence… hrmm, well, you’ll see for yourself. I’ve been told not to give too many spoilers, but the developers hinted to me that as the player, we have a special power!
If you complete a route, you don’t have to continue to the next one. You can pick whichever route you’re on and make it your true end. When that option pops out in the game, and you pick yes, Wonderland will close, and Alice and her suitor will be able to leave! It’s our choices while reading that matter!
Or… at least that’s what they said. Still, I’d warn you guys to be careful in choosing! This game is tricky, and it has several bad ends too… ah, I shouldn’t spoil anymore. This is an online game, so I put the links below if you want to play the beta version too! Careful though~ It links straight to the prologue, so for any players replaying, just choose the route after!
Oh, and one last thing- though all of the main cast are dateable characters; it’s of course, only one character per route though… or is it? Hehehe!
If you go through all routes, you might get a secret ending! Bonus scenes! So complete the full game when it comes out, okay?
No, the developers totally didn’t ask me to say all that to promote the game~
Have fun playing, and I hope this walkthrough helps you!
“J-joon” you moaned loudly as another wave of pleasure hit your body causing you to see stars while Namjoonsmirked looking at your weak body helplessly squirming under him. He groaned when you clenched around him tightly causing him to thrust inside you hard “fuck babygirl how are you still so fucking tight?” He grunted when your nails scratched his back leaving red marks but he didn’t give a damn about. You whined looking at him with half closed eyes and pulled him down to a messy kiss. Your tongue and teeth clashed before you pulled back and attacked your lips to his neck sucking harshly causing him to growl and fuck into you deeper and a cry of his name escaped your lips “d-daddy!” He groaned and suddenly pulled out but before you could even whimper at the sudden emptiness, he turned you around making you lay on your stomach with your ass up in the air. You both moaned in sync as he entered inside your even tighter asshole. The new angle giving him much more access to every part of your warm and plush ass hole. Your face was squished against the pillow and a line of drool was seen too but you could care less when your fiancee was literally fucking you into the mattress. “Yeah? You like that? Fuck baby i shouldn’t even let you cum with the way you were teasing me the whole night. Were you that desperate for my cock? Fucking slut” you moaned shamelessly nodding as you became a babbling mess “y-yes daddy! Like your cock so much” you cried out as the coil forming in your stomach snapped and you came without a warning causing namjoon to groan “you are so fucking beautiful. Bet you will look more beautiful with my seed right? ” you nodded immediately and he chuckled darkly “makes me want to fuck a child inside you. Would look so fucking pretty round with my kid” “y-yes! Want your seed joon” you gasped when he shooted his load of heavy cum inside you with a low moan of your name. Before he fell besides you breathing heavily. After a few minutes of just heavy breathing he asked “ tomorrow is your day off right?” “Yeah why?” You mumbled feeling your eyes getting heavier which widened when he suddenly flipped you around and hovered above you with a smirk “then let’s put all those baby shoes to use babygirl ” you moaned at his words and your hand went to stroke his already hard cock.
