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
(I know the boys haven’t performed in China… I just wanted a Disneyland date next chapter and I know more about the Chinese one)
There is a whirlwind of movement as soon as the plane lands in Shanghai airport. The flight had been delayed due to problems on the runway. You had been in the air for two hours longer than planned, meaning everyone was now two hours behind on concert prep. You are rushed through immigration. A confusing blur of Mandarin and Korean being yelled around you as people try to figure out the best way to get you all through in time. In the confusion you lose Namjoon. You jump to the next nearest familiarity. Jungkook looks very surprised as you grab onto his arm, immediately searching around for your missing man.
When he comes up empty, he links his arm through yours and signals for you to use your hood to cover your face as best as possible.
“Okay… uh how..? hold on to me.” You do as you are told, better securing your facemask with your free hand. He pulls you through the throng of people. Trying to avoid sasaeng fans and paparazzi as you made your way to the front of the building. You almost make it through without incident. Jungkook tried coaching you to make it seem like maybe you were a stylist. You might’ve gotten away with it, if it weren’t for the girl who managed to run through the security team. She wasn’t passed the barrier for long, but it was enough time to rip the hood from your head exposing you as a foreigner to all the prying eyes around.
Mutters start to rumble through the onlookers. Rumours already spreading amongst them as they try to work out the identity of the mystery girl clinging to the youngest member like her life depended on it. You pull the hood back up, knowing its useless but not wanting them to take any more photos. You keep your eyes on the floor and keep moving forward. You’ve loosened your grip on JK knowing it’s futile but still wanting to come away without too much speculation. He doesn’t let go of you though. His grip tightens as he keeps moving, unwilling to lose you.
As soon as you are out of the main doors Namjoon is at your side. He puts an arm around your waist, peeling you away from your previous protector and ushers you straight into a waiting car. You don’t see the look he gives Jungkook. A look that suggests he is lucky to still be alive. You don’t get a chance to thank your protector as Joon slams the door in his face.
“Are you okay? Did she hurt you? I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to leave you, they dragged me away. I’ll never let that happen again.” He cradles you into his chest, not giving you a moment to reassure him. “I’m going to get you your own security team. Maybe it would be best if for Shanghai you didn’t start working. No one else is ever going to lay a hand on you.” He keeps rambling on petting your hair as if you are the one that needs calming down. You let him. It’s clear he fills guilty for disappearing but there is nothing you can do to assuage that guilt when he won’t even take a breath.
You barely get to see any of the city rushing past the window on the way to the hotel. Its not a long journey, 30 minutes at most from Pudong airport. You are let out of the cars in an underground parking lot, far away from anyone that might’ve been waiting for the band’s arrival. There isn’t a lot of time between now and when everyone had to be at soundcheck. Luckily the tour manager had collected all the boy’s passports in order to check them in and the hotel staff had allowed them to head straight to their rooms to set up. You follow Namjoon into the ornate elevator and he presses the button for the right floor. All this time your hand has been firmly clasped in his. You glance down at where you are joined to see his knuckles turning white.
“Joon, it’s okay, I’m okay. You need to calm down.” He refuses, holding firm. “Namjoon look at me.” He reluctantly meets your gaze. “If you are going to be this worried about me, maybe I shouldn’t have come, after this concert… I should just go home.”
“NO!” the sudden volume scares you a little, he sees you flinch and immediately his usual cheery demeaner is back. “Come one it’s been one day, it’ll be okay. I was just scared because I didn’t want to leave you and I didn’t want you to be afraid. You’ll be alright, I’m just being protective. Please stay, you have to stay.” The elevator dings before you get a chance to address the sudden shift in personality. It’s a short walk down the hallway to your room. Another gorgeous five-star accommodation. The bed was huge, the view spectacular, and there was even a balcony complete with a small garden. There was only one problem.
“Joon, there isn’t a door on the bathroom…” he places his backpack on the bed and looks in your direction.
“Oh yeah… I completely forgot about that. It’s a common feature in Chinese hotels unfortunately. It’s alright though, I’m going to be so busy for the next 48 hours you won’t have to worry about privacy.” He comes back to kiss you on the forehead and slide your own carryon off your shoulder onto his. “Let’s relax for a little while. I have some time before we need to go.” He sets your stuff down and slides on to the bed, patting the empty space next to him. For the next hour you sit in near silence, catching up on social media with a movie playing in the background. Just being able to sit with him is so oddly comforting. For someone you idolised for so long, it feels like it should have been harder to slip into routine, but he made it so easy. It was almost like he thought of you in the same light, something unobtainable.
The band’s deadline came around all too quick. Namjoon packed all of his concert necessities into a bag and kissed you goodbye. It had been decided it was best for you to distance from the band for tonight. Start fresh the next day. This left you with over 9 hours to yourself. First you skimmed through films on the TV, but it was hard to tell which were in English. Next you read through a book on your kindle, it kept you busy for a little while, but it was getting harder and harder to focus. You kept thinking about the stern voice Namjoon had used when you suggested leaving. So deep. So authoritative. Just the memory was proving a very powerful aphrodisiac.
Running a bath and taking care of yourself seemed like the best option, especially if Namjoon wasn’t going to be back for a long time. It’s not like you could ask him to help you anyway, not yet. You fill the large tub with scalding water and find some bath salts amongst the toiletries. You swirl them in before carefully dipping your feet into the water. The bath could easily be big enough for two. The heat and space help you to unwind from the long flight, helping to soothe all of the post flight ick.
Its not long before your finger trail in between your legs working on the other tension you had been feeling. Luckily for Namjoon, this is when he decided to check the room’s cameras.
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.
pairing: scientist!Namjoon x f!reader genre(s): smut, angst, drama, mystery, slight horror au(s): based on Frankenstein word count: 460 words for the teaser warnings (teaser only): mentions minor character death rating:18+
summary:Kim Namjoon had always been a curious child, with a strong desire to understand the world. After a tragedy strikes his family Namjoon is left heartbroken. Grieving, he seeks to create a companion in the most unorthodox way. But what happens when the very life he created turns against the master whom she was supposed to love?
a/n: i’m still working on the hyung line classic lit stories! this one is quickly spiraling out of control, so I’m just sharing this to keep myself accountable bc I need to finish this damn fic. I’ve already written and deleted so much from it T_T this also very unedited
The rain pummeled against the window, striking the glass panes with such brazen force that Namjoon thought his whole studio would shudder and splinter underneath the weight of tonight’s storm. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he lets out a deep breath, one he did not even know he’d been holding for the past few years. It was done.
A crack followed his sigh, like a bone being set into place, and then a great groan, and his creation sprung to life. Namjoon stood there, paralyzed, the awe beginning to melt away, and shock and horror setting in as he took in the sight of this new being. It was a woman, and yet it was not. For every feature he’d selected, eyes, lips, nose, and everything that was beautiful in its own right, fit together in the most grotesque of ways, and instantly his heart plummets. This was no human. This was nothing worthy of his love, or the labor he’d undertaken for the past two years. The empty void that had settled in his chest after his mother’s passing grew wider and wider, and Namjoon watches all his hopes and dreams become swallowed by the gaping vortex.
A bead of sweat trickles down his neck, escaping underneath his shirt, and Namjoon turns on his heel, running out of the room.
Panicked, he closes the door behind him, rushing across the hall to his own bed, drawing the scratchy covers over his head. His eyes flutter, willing for sleep to claim his restless frame, but it never comes. Instead, he lies awake, the pounding of his heart melding with the ticking of the grandfather clock in the corner, creating a haunting rhythm to represent the doom that has begun to loom over the house.
A loud crack jolts Namjoon awake from his miserable sleep - the lightning illuminating the room in a silvery glow, and there, at the foot of his bed -– the figure of the being he’d created! Round eyes, if they could even be called so, staring at him curiously, like a lost child. Mouth moving as though it was trying to speak, but no sounds escaped.
Namjoon softens at the sight of the poor creature, looking lost and confused. He reaches out towards it, hands shaking, and nearly jumps when he feels two leathery palms take his hand in between them. His heart thrums at the gentle display, amazed at how soft-natured the creature was, despite its extraordinary appearance.
Tightening his hand in the creature’s, he realizes that he cannot give up now. This dream, this vision, it must be worth something. For the beauty of creation lied not in the dazzling appearance of things themselves, but their ability to provide hope.
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.
[ genre ] mafia au × arranged marriage au × bestfriend’s brother au × strangers to lovers au ( angst × fluff )
[ rating ]mature-rated
[ warning ] a kiss that could’ve escalated but they are cockblocked. stubbing your toe on the table. drunk people. alcohol consumption. too much awkwardness. unresolved issues between people. argument between family. unsolicited advice. fiancé nowhere to be found the day before wedding.
[ author’s forenote ] hello! i’m back! a sort of filler chapter but there’s action in the next one, I promise! i’ve edited the end of the last chapter a bit, so this start might seem wrong but yeah. I’m sorry if this isn’t what you were expecting. also, please check out the endnote —i need your thoughts. a bit filler-y but this is a start of namjoon doing better. you are called nari/lily and jangmi is also called rose. and, you are not crazy. i did post yesterday but tumblr ate half of it and wouldn’t let me add more. now, this is complete and hopefully without much error. enjoy!
Four: Months Leading To The Wedding Of The Century
[ chapter summary ] a look into how you and namjoon spent the few weeks leading up to your wedding.
“Here’s your drink,”
Namjoon tilts his head, smiling with a teasing glint in his eyes.
“—you look like you desperately need it,” He slides you the drink. You had just taken the seat next to him at the bar, after a quick run to the restroom.
“Thank you,” You say gratefully.
You did need a drink, the kiss had left you wet and dry at the same time. You take a sip, rolling the drink around in your mouth.
“You are too far away,” He says, watching you from the rim of his glass.
“Hm?” You look at him, feeling the alcohol burn your throat.
“This,” He mutters, moving to grab hold of the bar stool you were sitting on and drag it to him. You yelp in surprise, eyes comically wide as you scramble to stop yourself from falling over.
“Wha—”
You are holding on to your stool with one hand and the other holding his arm as he drags the stool and you across the floor, you can feel his muscles flex under your fingertips.
For a good second, your mind runs —wondering about all his muscles, how good they’d look flexing without the clothes obstructing your view, the clear strength lying beneath his honey-skin, the ways his body could be put to use for your needs and pleasure. You were very near gone, when he grins and his dimples show.
“There,” His dimples grow deeper, and he whispers. “All better.”
You nod a few times, momentarily forgetting your words. You take another big sip of your drink, trying to clear your throat and ease your body of the weird tension you had been feeling since the balcony.
In the time you were gone, things seemed to have escalated a bit. People were beginning to get very drunk, and the venue was steadily becoming more of a club with the older guests leaving for dinner.
Just from the looks of it, the afterparty was going to be crazy.
If it had been any other party, you’d have stayed back and gone crazy, but now, you aren’t all that interested. It was like your brain had done a lot of work and while you weren’t tired physically, you were mentally drained.
All you wanted was a bath, a bottle of wine and your own company.
“When can I go home?” You ask your fiancé. You empty the drink, setting the glass back on the table.
“The party’s barely started, sweetheart.” He leans in closer, using his index finger to caress your cheek delicately, “What do you mean you wanna go home?” He says, his voice soft.
“I’m tired,” You whine, making a face. “—and this party is boring.”
“This is our engagement party, you know.” He reminds you, tone bordering amusement.
“What does that have to do with anything?” You scoff. “A boring party is a boring party. It doesn’t matter who it is thrown for or hosted by.”
“Do you not want to eat anything?” Namjoon asks you, taking a look at your empty glass and back up at you. You should be touched that he thinks about you skipping dinner, but you are not.
“You must be hungry from all this,” He gestures to the party that’s beginning to rage.
“I’ll just order room service,” You answer, waving off any concerns he might have.
“So, you have it all planned?” He tilts his head, to take a look at you.
“Room. Food. Bed.” You recite your plans happily and he sighs.
If you look deep into it, he sounds disappointed. But before that thought comes to your mind, he stands up.
“Come on then,“ He pushes forward his arm, asking you to hold it. "I’ll take you to your suite.”
“Really?” You ask, eyes wide because you weren’t expecting him to actually let you go. You take his arm, “I can leave?”
He nods, and you stand up. “No one will say anything if it’s me taking you away,”
“Why?” You can’t stop yourself from asking, eyes wide with mirth and curiosity, “Because you are the next Don?”
“Partially yes,” He nods, smiling smugly. He leads you away from the bar, around the loud guests and out of the crowd. “But mostly because you are mine anyway.”
You roll your eyes and turn your face away from him, “I’m not yours.”
“Of course you are,” He laughs, shaking his head like you were cracking the funniest of jokes. He holds your hand in his, bringing it up to kiss your fingertips. “You are mine and mine only,” He winks and adds as an afterthought, looking ahead. “For this lifetime at least.”
“For the next then?” You challenge.
You don’t know what you want him to say —if you want him to say that you were only his, this lifetime and the next or that he didn’t care what happened to you in the next. You look at him expectantly, as he leads you out the entryway, towards the elevators.
He stays quiet, looking thoughtful and once you enter the lift, he finally talks.
“You tell me,” Namjoon says, turning himself to you and leaning against the elevator wall. “Will you be mine in the next lifetime?”
You look up at him, the sudden turn of questions startling you. You remain quiet because you don’t know what he expects out of you.
Should you be honest?
Will it be a lie to say you would want him in the next lifetime too?
Will he even want you in any lifetime?
Wasn’t this marriage a fulfilment of duty to him?
Something he owed to Bangtan —a strong and capable Madam?
You think about what might be the right and honest answer to give.
What do you really think would make you want Namjoon in your next life?
To Namjoon though, the answer seems pretty clear.
In this life, you have no choice but to be his. Next life though, you’ll probably be the captain of your own life, would you be his then?
Namjoon doesn’t like the way his heart sinks because a part of him knows you wouldn’t choose him. He’d rather hear a negative answer from you, than hear his own thoughts about why you wouldn’t want him in the next life.
“Depends on how you treat me this lifetime,” You say carefully after a minute, looking at him with equal parts amusement and sincerity.
Because honestly, you didn’t have much against Namjoon.
Did you love him?
No, but you could see yourself falling for him, if he treats you like you want to be treated —like an equal, like a woman, like his wife, like someone he cared for.
Namjoon carefully considers your answer, then asks again.
“Am I treating you well so far, then?”
“You tell me,” You mimic him, tone and body, “Are you treating me well so far?”
The elevator dings and the door opens. You walk out first, leaving Namjoon to follow you to your room. You are walking ahead a few steps, when he wraps his palm on your wrist and pulls you back to him.
“I think—” You turn to him, with a questioning gaze.
His expression is serious and unreadable. You are all ready for another talk about how you were expecting too much and the bullshit but he surprises you.
“—a little work is needed.”
He looks down at you deceivingly soft and sincere, scanning your face to scale your reaction. Your eyes widen in genuine surprise and delight, because even the consideration that he would try to do better is a huge step in making the future a happier place.
While this wasn’t a big deal to anyone, this was still a win to you.
“You are a smart man, Kim Namjoon.” You giggle, laugh bubbling up —unrestrained and loud, that Namjoon follows you right back. Your face is scrunched up in happiness, head thrown back.
Namjoon knows the situation or his words aren’t all that funny but you must’ve found some amusement from them, because he feels this odd need to keep you laughing and happy.
“That I am,” He agrees, chest puffing up in a funny manner, eliciting more laughter from you.
“Yes, yes,” You concede, laughter waning, “—you are a smart man.”
A comfortable silence settles between you as you come to a halt right in front of your door.
“Well, this is me.”
You gesture to your door. He nods, gesturing to your door as if asking you to open the door. You swipe the keycard, the door unlocking and swinging wide open. You step in, the air heavy now that you two were separating after a pretty good time. “See you… tomorrow?”
“You don’t want a goodnight kiss, baby?” He asks, stepping into the room and leaning against the doorway.
“Do you?” You cock your head and move closer to him. He takes a step towards you, meeting you halfway.
He nods, “But I want you to say it.”
“Kiss me,” You whisper, hands easily finding their place on him, as he pulls you closer, planting his lips on yours.
His lips are soft but he runs them over yours with a firmness and heat you’ve decided that you like. He captures your lips between his, laving them with affection and attention. He pushes you to the wall, pressing himself against your softer body.
The contrast of your softness to his firmness, your delicate build to his strong one, the chill in your frame to his delicious warmth, the light, floral scent of you to his musky, blankety cologne —everything about the two of you in this position, bodies pressed at your intimate regions ignited your core.
You are barely holding onto your sanity when he pulls away, leaving you panting.
“Have I told you yet?” He asks softly, slightly panting his words, “You look so beautiful tonight.”
He rubs his large thumb over your heated cheeks, cupping your face. Your cheeks burn harder, as you feel your heart soar.
Before you are able to say anything in return, he latches onto you again. He moves from your lips to your jaw to your neck, suckling harder, determined to leave marks.
People need to know you weren’t available and that you were his.
You are mewling and squirming under him, clearly willing to take things further when the loud ring of your phone startles you. You tap on his shoulders, wanting him to move off you.
“Ignore it,” He mutters between harsh sucks to your skin, “It can wait.”
“No.” You gasp, as he nips at your sensitive skin, “It-It might be important.”
“More important than me?” He pulls away, hands cupping your face, looking meek.
You roll your eyes and push him away reflexively, running away to find your obnoxiously loud phone. You curse when you stub your tone on a table, and you hear a careful and are you hurt from Namjoon but you wave him off, stumbling in pain.
When you do find your phone on a side table, the call is disconnected. You groan, opening it up to notice Jangmi’s name in the missed call notification.
“Are you okay?” Namjoon had followed you to your bed, “Who was it?”
“Your sister,” You say, wincing as you climb on your bed. You might’ve to check on your toe after this. Namjoon rolls his eyes at the mention of his beautiful sister.
“What does the brat want?”
“What do you think she wants?” You ask, curiously.
This is the first time Jangmi is brought up in a conversation between the two of you and you are interested to know what he thinks of Jangmi, to know his side of the sibling dynamic.
“Stalker information on Taehyung, what else.” He sighs in mock disappointment. You begin to try and support your friend —stand up for her like any other friend from the slander her brother is going to put her through, but he stops you.
“Don’t.” He raises a palm at you, “We all know she’s calling you for that very reason.”
You lean back, because honestly, he was right —partially. But you didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of being right.
“Maybe she just wanted to congratulate me—”
“No need to stick up for her,” He shakes his head, “We both know she’s only calling to know what Taehyung did at the party tonight.”
“Maybe she wants to check up on me, we are best friends after all.”
“Whatever helps you sleep.” He grins mockingly. You roll your eyes, because you don’t have an apt reply. He studies your silence, then grabs your hand, pulling you to him. “We can continue—”
“No,” You snap, smirking, “I need to talk to your sister first.”
“Why?”
“To give her stalker information on Taehyung, of course!” You smile wider, pushing him away. “You should go, Namjoon. Good Night.”
“So you are choosing the other Kim.” He says, his tone indignant.
You only smile innocently. “Obviously.”
Once you had carted a reluctant Namjoon out of your room, you dialled your best friend. You prop your phone on a pillow, so the camera caught your view. You lean against the headboard, waiting for Jangmi to pick up.
“Finally!” Jangmi exclaims, “Took you long enough to call me back!”
“I had to send Namjoon away—”
“What? He came to your room?” She gasps, clutching her hands to her mouth, “Why? Wait— Did you just come back?” She asks, and you nod, “Why? You don’t know your way to your room? Did you forget?” She asks, snickering like it was a very funny joke.
“Shut up if you want to know about your Taetae.” You threaten her, and she promptly shuts up, pouting and glaring at you.
“I did not call you to only know about him,” She tries, but you raise a palm as if to stop her. “Your brother doesn’t think so,”
“He’s a filthy liar,” She accuses. “I wanted to check up on you. You are one step away from becoming my sister-in-law and Omma’s been sending me pictures of the two of you lovebirds at the party, I just wanted to see it for myself,”
“What?”
“You two, Mr. Kim Namjoon and Miss Baek Nari looking like the next power couple and cozying up—”
“What are—”
“No. No-no,” Jangmi raises her finger as if to shush you, “Nuh-uh uh,” She wags her finger at you, “—you and my brother very much looked ready to explore each other on the very couch—”
“Stop. Stop. Stop.” You flail your arms, as if trying to stop the words from entering your bubble, “Oh my god— don’t say—”
“Explore,” She cackles again, emphasising the word, “You two looked just about ready to pounce on each other—” She grins, mischievous eyes shining at you reddening steadily.
“If you don’t stop right now,” You stutter out, trying to keep a stern face, “I swear, Kim Jangmi, I will not utter a word about Kim Taehyung.”
Jangmi sighs, rolling her eyes, “Such a spoilsport,” She clicks her tongue in disappointment.
“My brother’s spoilsport germs are contaminating you,” She continues in a solemn tone, mimicking a doctor who’s about to deliver some life-changing news, “You’ll probably only get worse as you hang around him more.” She nods to herself gravely, “I’m so sorry, Ms. Baek, I’m so sorry that we couldn’t save your fun—”
“So Dr.Kim, do you want to know about Tae or not?” You press, willing your burning cheeks to calm down.
You couldn’t just go around blushing everytime Namjoon is mentioned. You were a grown woman for heaven’s sake, not a teenager having her first crush. She clicked her tongue, muttering a spoilsport under her breath and looking at you, “Was he there?”
“Of course, he was!” You assure her happily, “Everybody was there to witness my doom.”
“Director Baek!” Juyeon comes running through the door of your office, looking frazzled, “Someone’s here for you!”
You look up from your laptop, surprised at your usually calm secretary looking so out of it.
“Do they have an appointment?” You ask, eyes back on the digital screen. “Isn’t that the norm you insist upon?”
Juyeon has been your aide since the time you joined Jeon Corps. Over the years, she insisted that you have visitors and clients make an appointment with you instead of dropping by and that rule applied to everyone except Jungkook, who just charmed his way regardless.
“It’s him!” She exclaims, “Your fiancé! He’s here to see you!”
“Namjoon?” Your eyes are wide as you ask her and she nods in affirmation. “Why is he here?”
“I-I don’t know,” She breathes heavily. You wonder if she just caught a look at him and ran up to tell you. “—but he looks so angry and—”
“He always looks angry,” You tell her, a small smile gracing your lips. “That’s his resting face.”
“He’s coming here!”
“So? Why are you so scared?” You say, almost nonchalantly.
“Isn’t Bangtan scary in general?” She says unsurely, “—and he’s the next Don, so he’s definitely scarier.”
“I get that he looks scary but you don’t have to be scared, Juyeon.” You try to calm her down, “He won’t do anything—”
The door to your office is flung open and Namjoon saunters in, not even bothering with a knock.
If you weren’t caught off guard by his actions, you were by his look for the day.He was wearing a black shirt with rolled sleeves letting you admire his large, veiny arms and hands. His black trousers showed off his strong thighs and long legs with shiny shoes and his hair was pushed back.
“Why are you here?” You ask, not bothering to get up from your chair and give pleasantries.He smiles at you, turns to Juyeon and tilts his head to the door.
“Leave.” The poor woman scampers out of his sight, not listening to you as you try to stop her. “Also, cancel all her appointments for the day.”
Juyeon mutters out a little yes and leaves the room, closing the door behind her.
“Why are you cancelling my appointments, RM?” You ask him, not bothering to hide your annoyance, “Why are you even here? Do you not have a syndicate to run?”
“I think I’m deserving of a day off,” His dimples make an appearance rather rudely, and you feel your annoyance wane away. “—so are you,”
“I’m quitting this job for you—,” You begin to complain.
The fact that you have to quit your work still hasn’t quite settled itself in you, so you are rightfully a little bummed and clingy about using all your work time, doing just that —work.
“—so what’s a day off, right?”You think to yourself.
What’s a day-off when you’re writing away your whole life to him, right?
“So, what’s the plan?” You ask as you slip on your seatbelt.
You were in Namjoon’s expensive sports car, waiting to know why he had so unceremoniously asked to take you out —a date, your hopeless brain offered, but you pushed it away.
“I have a few things to do,” He starts his car, pulling into the driveway. “I wanted you to help me with it.”
“Help you?” You ask, tilting your head in confusion. “I can handle a gun, but I don’t think I can match up to the skills of RM from Bangtan,” You reply honestly.
You were trained in handling guns, but it had been a while and you were almost sure you were rusty.
“You won’t need a gun for this,” He smiles, sparing you an amused glance. “We are going to meet noona. You are friends with her, right?”
There is only one woman in this whole world that Namjoon has ever called Noona and that’s Saera.
“Saera unnie?” You tilt your head, “Why?”
“Have a cake tasting for our wedding cake.” He tells you, then takes a moment to continue, “—and to invite her for the wedding,”
Once that was added, you knew why you were being taken as an accompaniment, an accessory —Saera would consider attending if you asked her to. You feel your stomach sinking.
The disappointment settled in, only because you were expecting and hoping desperately that he wanted to spend time with you, like a couple would want to. But, you try not to let your disappointment show, instead talk about the issue in hand.
“Unnie never attends anything related to Bangtan,” you say, “you know that.”
Saera never attended any Bangtan events, the most she did so far was agreeing to make your wedding cake, and that was because you had pestered her day in and night about her cakes being the best in the world and how it’d be a waste to not have it on your special day —with loads of puppy eyes, childish tantrums, a little bit of fake tears and emotional blackmailing.
“The Don and Madam think that if you ask,” He says, looking at you and parking his car into the café parking lot. “—she might agree.”
Moon’s Epiphany was a little away across your office, a beautiful café known for their great coffee with nice and aromatic blends, trendy, seasonal drinks, it’s mouth-wateringly delicious, artistically beautiful pastries and other dishes; truly a food-blogger’s wet dream.
“So bringing me out in the guise of a date was just to get Saera unnie’s attention?” You say nonchalantly, nodding to yourself as you take off your seatbelt.
“This can be our date.” Namjoon says understanding your underlying meaning, but you don’t listen, just getting out of his car and walking into the café.
Namjoon sighs to himself, knowing very well he wasn’t doing a splendid job treating you well like he had said a few days ago but this had to be solved —he needed Saera and Hwan home and you were the only one capable of doing it.
“Ah, look!” Saera’s sweet, welcoming voice called as you stepped inside the café, “It’s Madam Lily!”
She giggles when she sees your annoyed expression, something she often told reminded her of Hwan.
“Not you too, unnie —” You whine childishly, “I’m not the Madam,”
“Yet.” She adds, moving to cage you in a hug, “Yet, Na. You’ll be the Madam soon enough!” She whispers to you, “—with how excited everyone seems to be about you marrying Namu.”
She lets go of you, as you pull back your arms, “Where’s Hwan?”
“Kindergarten,” She answers, “He’s a big boy now, you know.” She mimics her son’s tone, shaking her head at the five-year old, “Your usual?” She asks, as she takes to your favourite spot in the place, by the large windows streaming in the sunlight.
“Yeah, and—” You stop, stifling awkwardness settling in, you gesture to your fiancé stepping in after you. “—something for Namjoon too.”
Saera’s face falls slightly as she turns around, feeling a presence behind. You turn with her, facing Namjoon who looks unsure and awkward.
“Hello, noona.” He said, trying to smile but not really managing much. Saera stared at him, lost in her thoughts before she cleared her throat. “It’s nice to see you,”
“RM,” She nods, gulping and sighing, “It’s nice to see you too.”
“You look well,” He says, a soft smile adorning his face, making him somehow look childlike and innocent.
“You-you look well too.” Saera smiles awkwardly, “I-I’ll get your order,” She stutters and leaves the two of you in a pile of discomfort.
You look between the leaving woman and at Namjoon who looks a little let down, sighing to himself.
“Let’s sit down, yeah?” You say, trying to chip at the awkwardness settling in the place. Namjoon wordlessly nods, sitting across you.
The café was not as busy because the lunch rush hadn’t quite started yet and you are thankful for the cosy quiet the place offers you in that moment.
You want to ask what was happening, what happened with the two and why the two seemed so hesitant with each other. You knew that they used to be very close as kids, Jangmi even joked that Namjoon and Jungkook were basically Saera’s kids who followed her around like ducklings.
Jungkook seemed to have somehow retained the relationship he had with her, after everything that happened but Namjoon obviously didn’t.
Your curiosity piques as you watch Namjoon still fiddling with his fingers —looking nothing like the scary mobster that he is but more like a young man who has a lot of burden to carry on his shoulders and thoughts to carry in his mind, but before you could ask anything, your coffee arrived.
“Here’s your coffee,” Saera brings over your drinks, sliding your steaming cup of black coffee to you and an extra-sweet, iced latte for Namjoon.
You smile in thanks at the woman, who all but runs back into the kitchen to bring out the food. You take a sip of your bitter coffee, humming to yourself. You watch Namjoon as he takes a sip of his drink, the cream leaving a moustache over his lips, which his thick tongue licks clean.
Before any sinful thoughts could cloud you, Saera is back with your food —skillet steak, eggs and potatoes for you, nutella stuffed french toast with lots of toppings and katsu sandwiches, both house specialties for Namjoon.
She clearly has favourites.
You muse, watching as she mutters to Namjoon, very much like a mother, “Eat the sandwiches first, then the dessert.”
You vaguely remember your talk with him at the balcony —something about him liking sweet things.
The terrifying gangster is a sweet tooth, how cute.
Namjoon nods obediently, whispering his thanks and you turn to Saera, “Unnie, join us.”
It was time to get to work, and Namjoon seems to think the same because he speaks next.
“Yeah, noona, join us,” Namjoon looks up to the woman, adding in a pleading tone. “Please.”
Saera looks at the two of you, sporting puppy-like looks and gives up, agreeing to join you with coffee for herself.
“So, what brings you two here?” She sat next to you, taking a sip of her iced americano.
“We are here to invite you—” You start, jumping right into it.
“No,never.” Saera slammed her cup back onto the table, shaking her head firmly. “Not happening!”
“What do you mean by no?” You pout, unleashing your whiny abilities. “Please unnie, please.”
“If you had come any late,” You say calmly to Jangmi as you drive her to your home right after she landed in Seoul, “I would’ve considered sending a hitman out for you.”
“Missed me that much, babygurl?” She flutters her eyes at you theatrically and you shove her away.
“Don’t you ever call me that, Rosie!” You shudder, equally as dramatic, “That’s disgusting! Who even calls another human being that?!”
“Many men do,” Jangmi laughs, telling you in an assuring tone, “I bet half of Bangtan males do that too.”
“What?” You scoff, “Call each other babygurl?”
“Imagine that—” She giggles, making you laugh at the imagery too, “Jihoon or anyone actually calling oppa or any of the Elites, babyboy—” She drops her voice comically low, trying to imitate the man’s voice.
“Baby boy Namjoon-ie,” She continues, trying to sound seductive but somehow making you feel disgusted. You shudder slightly, your skin erupting with goosebumps.
“They will have him skinned, Rose,” You shake your head, laughing in between your words. “And throw him into an acid bath, if they are feeling particularly creative.”
“I wish I could do that,” She sighs, “—and not feel bad about it afterwards.”
“Is he still pestering you?” You look over at her, slightly alarmed and taken aback.
Jihoon is Jihyo’s twin brother, a man who was equally as ambitious as his sister and his eyes on the only Kim daughter. If Jihyo competed for Namjoon, Jihoon was after Jangmi.
It started when Jangmi developed a sort of friendship with him in high school and with Jangmi’s friendly nature, the man had assumed that she liked him and they could get married.
You still weren’t sure if the desire was for Jangmi or the position as the Don’s son-in-law.
Jihoon had asked her out multiple times over the years, telling her his plans to elope and all but Jangmi rejected each of his approaches but truly never cut him off because they were pretty good friends and she didn’t want to drift away from the few friends she had.
When the Don found out that Jangmi was in love with Taehyung, she was engaged to him right after university. Jihoon seemed to have taken the engagement as a challenge and continued to harass Jangmi about accepting his feelings and leaving behind Bangtan and Taehyung.
If your general dislike for the Shin Jihyo wasn’t already much, Jihoon’s harassing moves only made you hate them more.
“Did you really expect him to quietly take my six-hundred and fifty-first no and not see my face afterwards?” She asks you, looking at you in disbelief.
“It’s about time he accepts that you don’t like him back,” You tell her, rolling your eyes, “This isn’t even about you being engaged to another man, it’s about you saying him no—multiple times, over many years!”
“I know and I wish he’d stop—”
“Block him, threaten him, tell his family, tell the Don, the Madam, your brother or even Taehyung—” You stop yourself, eyes wide in realisation, “Yes, tell Taehyung! He will fix this mess for you!”
“There isn’t a mess, Lily,” She shakes her head, denying, “Jihoon’s just a little dumb and—”
“Disrespectful? Indecent? Deaf? Isn’t getting that consent is very much a thing? Can’t read obvious signs? Can’t understand no?” You offer, sounding curious.
She shoots you a look and sighs, muttering a quiet, “All of that, yeah.”
You roll your eyes, lips lifting up a little even with the obvious worry the situation was causing.
“I am being serious though,” You tell her, “Jihoon needs to stop bothering you. If anything goes wrong, he’ll end up losing his head.”
Jangmi nods, deep in thought.
“Forget about him,” She shakes her head, “You tell me,” She turns to you with her mischievous eyes, “What do you have for me?”
“What should I be having for you?” You play dumb, hoping it convinces her.
“Details about the engagement and your fiancé, of course!” She looks at you, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, which it was but you didn’t want to think much about Namjoon and your engagement when in a few days everything of yours will become his.
“He’s your brother!” You try again.
“I can happily ignore that detail,” She waves your concern off.
“We haven’t really spoken—”
“Since the engagement?” She gasps, “Are you kidding me?!”
“No-No,” You say, trying to correct her misunderstanding, “After he took me—”
“He took you on a date?!” Jangmi jumps straight to her dream conclusion, “Elites can take their fiancées on dates?”
“It wasn't—” You roll your eyes, the disappointment from the days before resurfacing due to her words.
“Where did he take you?” She presses on, eyes bright with excitement.
“Moon’s Epiphany—” You answer, praying that this will stop her from throwing more questions at you, but she continues.
“Saera unnie’s café?” Her eyes are wide, “Is this man—? Did she see you? Did he see her? Did he talk to her? Did she talk to him? Did you stay there long? What happened? Come on, Lily, tell me! I need to know!”
“Will you let me speak!?”
Rose had just cut the conversation about Saera off once you had reached home and you remained in the dark about Saera and why she had cut the Kims off her and her son’s life.
You didn’t dwell on the issue though, with Jangmi the remaining days till your wedding was much easier as the two of you caught up with everything happening in your lives, shopped till you could fill another closet, had your beauty and spa appointments and really enjoyed everything your leisure and wealth could provide you with.
Your wedding was going to be held at the city’s Paradise Resort, on the banks of Han River. So, on the day before, almost all of Bangtan was at the resort, enjoying themselves with alcohol and all the amenities the resort provided.
Your mother was at the bar, eating and drinking away with her friends while your Dad was with the Don and the others talking, laughing with lots of alcohol. Madam Kim was busy getting the details of your wedding done with Jangmi and you were all alone, non-alcoholic sangria in your hands as you lounge around under a gazebo.
Occasionally, people or families who are away due to Bangtan’s work outside of Seoul come to you and chat about everything, teasing you about what’s to come tomorrow and to enjoy yourself, even if it hurts.
You laughed, blushed and indulged everyone in their fantasy of a shy, new bride till the sunset and everyone seemed to be gathering for dinner.
You wanted to join them, but you just didn’t feel great. You were feeling anxious, borderline dizzy with worrying thoughts about tomorrow. You had already thought of running away; at least fifteen times over the day and really considered the pros and cons of that move.
What would happen if you ran away?
Would your father and mother be executed?
Would the Don kill his best friend?
Would your father live with this act of ultimate betrayal? Will your father forgive you?
Would you mother be happy that you lost a chance at a wonderful life or sad that you missed such a grand life?
Will Madam Kim still consider you her daughter?
What would Namjoon think? Will the storm find you? Will he just let you go? Will he get angry? Will he feel betrayed? Will he hate you?
Would he hate himself?
Your mind was heavy as you excused yourself from the gathering —you wanted to get some rest before tomorrow.
"Yeah, get some rest sweetie,” Madam Kim smiled at you, eyes crinkling with warmth. “It’ll be very busy and draining for you tomorrow.”
You nod, bid them a good night and leave to find your parents.
Your father was with your mother, entertaining some of their other friends who at the sight of you, congratulated and gushed over you and your marriage with Namjoon.
No one asked where he was though because everyone knew he wasn’t at the resort.
He hadn’t even turned up.
You sigh disappointed in your soon-to-be husband. He could have just showed up and stayed by you but no, he has to disappear when things are hard for you.
“I’ll be in my room, Appa.” You tell your dad, giving him a hug and pulling him away from the crowd. “Namjoon isn’t gonna come, is he?”
“Our work isn’t exactly cut out for corporate business hours, honey,” He reminds you in his soft tone, cupping your cheeks in a fatherly manner, “—you know that,”
“I know, Appa—” You sigh, “But-but, it’s our wedding tomorrow! Why isn’t he here? Shouldn’t he at least call me? I am here all alone—”
“So?” Your mother asks you, looking incredulous, “What if you are getting married tomorrow? You could be dying in labour giving birth to his child and still can’t expect him to be here with you! He’s a busy man with much more important priorities. Why should he even—”
“Sook,” You dad stops her in a warning tone, because he can sense an argument brewing between you two. “My daughter wasn’t talking to you and I haven’t asked for your opinions. Stay out of this.” He hisses, voice low and eyes narrowed in warning.
“Well, tell your daughter to lower her expectations of an influential man like Namjoon,” She huffs out a laugh, “Wants him tied to her skirt!” She huffs again, “Tell her to wake up early tomorrow! Tell her it’s time she takes responsibility for herself! I can’t do everything—”
“You do everything?” You scoff, anger and disappointment at your soon-to-be husband channelling himself to your mother, “What did you ever do for me?! It was always Appa! It’s time I take responsibility?! I have always been responsible! It’s you, who has to learn responsibility! It’s your daughter’s wedding and what are you doing? Getting drunk? Hitting on young waiters—”
Your nose flared, eyes narrowing in hatred and anger, you looked right about ready to choke your mother but your father held you down, whispering, “Calm down, sweets, the lady is looking for you,”
“Miss Baek,” The Manager of the resort had walked up to you, “Mister Kim has a message for you.”
“Namjoon?” Your heart stuttered a little, “What is it?”
“He said it would be good for you to return to your room now,” She told you, eyes racing over your face to calculate your reaction.
“I was just about to leave. He didn’t have to waste your time, I know you are very busy.” You tell her, trying to be nice, “If he checks up on this again, tell him I am back in my room.”
“Yes, Miss Baek,” the lady gave you a bright smile, “Do you want me to escort you to your room?”
“No need, I can get there on my own,” You reassure her, “I have to finish this conversation with my parents and find my friend, so please, you can just get on with your work.”
The manager bowed at you and left, while you turned to your parents.
“See?” Your mother starts again, “He wants you to stop being a whiny, clingy disgrace and go hide in your room, away from his family and friends.”
“He wants me to get enough rest because he knows I’ll need it! because you will be busy being the worst mother ever.” You snap and before you could add more, your father gets in between the two of you.
“He wants you to get enough rest,” your father tries to refocus your attention on Namjoon’s gesture, “That’s sweet of him. Isn’t it, sweetcheeks?”
“Not according to your wife, Appa,” You point out mockingly, “She thinks it’s him telling me to stop being a disgrace,”
“No, it’s not. You are not a disgrace.” He tells you, holding your shoulders, “—he wants you well-rested for tomorrow! He understands that it can get hard for you if you don’t have enough sleep. You know it’ll be a long day tomorrow.”
“Yeah yeah,” you roll your eyes, never really being that good at staying angry at your father. “I’ll go find Jangmi and leave. I’m tired.”
“Of course, sweetie.” Your dad gives you a hug, pressing a kiss to your crown and patting your cheek with love, “I saw Jangmi at the bar.”
You nod, “Good night,”
“Sleep well, dear.” You give him one last hug and leave after passing a harsh glare at your mother.
When you find Jangmi, she’s at the bar downing shots with her cousins. Against her wanting to stay and drink more, you pull her away from the drunk crowd and to your room.
“Why are we leaving early?” She asks, alcohol already tingling her voice. “Shouldn’t you be out there, with me, drinking your heart out to celebrate the last day of your fabulous bachelorette life?”
“Your brother doesn’t think so,” You tell her, tone a little bitter, “He thinks I should get rest because tomorrow will be long and hard for me,”
Jangmi makes a face, “Ew.”
You laugh, “Yeah, I forgot that you were perversely drunk.”
“—and he’s a bore sober!” She counters, “He’s going to wrong all your fun out of you!”
“I don’t care, Rose,” You sigh, rubbing your temples, “I just want to relax for now. I’m already doomed, might as well get ruined having indulged in good sleep and self care.”
“Did you drink at all today?” She asks, throwing an arm around your neck.
“Water?” You muse at her, “Lots! It’s supposed to solve all my problems! Jihyo’s mother told me,”
“To drink water?” Jangmi looks confused.
“Yes, it’ll apparently get rid of my dark circles, acne, dull skin, stomach issues, anxiety and uncaring fiancé.” You exaggerate, making Jangmi giggle. “Honestly, I think she’s right! Half my problems will be solved if I just drowned people!” You gasp in a dramatic way, “Maybe she is right! Water does solve everything!”
“Wait, wait, wait!” Jangmi stops laughing, “Why are you even taking advice from the Shins?”
“I didn’t ask for it!” You say, whining. “The woman has been following me around everywhere dropping her unsolicited advice at me, at every turn and corner!”
“Okay, okay! Calm down now!” Jangmi tries to coddle you, “We should just get some rest, you’ll feel better,”
“Yeah, I think we should just sleep,” You agree, keying into your room.
Your room was a little secluded, away from the general hustle-bustle of the resort, as to give you some well-deserved privacy and peace. You had your own pool, jacuzzi and an amazing view into the starry sky and river.
When you swing open your door, pouty and disgruntled, the scent of the to is the first thing you notice. The calming, clean lavender relaxes you, as your face contorts in confusion.
Did someone come by to fix your room?
You step in further and notice the lights are different —more dimmed and yellow.
You step in further to notice your room is fixed up —not too much, but with fresh flowers, candles and on your bed was a big box and a large wooden tray with a wine bottle —your favourite, a jammy, rich red blend, some healthy snacks and chocolates.
“What are these?” You breathe, pulse racing in anticipation.
Curious and excited, you jump on your professionally made bed, pulling away at the box’s ribbons. The box opened to reveal white roses neatly arranged into a heart, with a note.
Maybe a bath and your favourite wine will help you sleep better. - Kim Namjoon.
Your eyes are wide in shock, pulse still racing as you try to think and react.
How does he know you like wines? How does he know your favourites? How does he know you take a bath to relax? How did he know you’ll have trouble sleeping? How did he manage to arrange this? And why did he go out of his way to do this? Was this him trying to treat you better? Like a wife?
You stay quiet, meeting eyes with Jangmi who is looking at you gaging your reaction.
“Did oppa send this?” She looks equally speechless. You nod wordlessly, rushing to the bathroom wondering if he had done something there too.The bathroom was decorated too, with flower petals and candles —with a variety of bath bombs, salts and other things.
“Did my brother do all this?” Jangmi’s eyes are wide with excitement, “What did you do to him? When did he become like this?”
You shrug because you don’t know, and because you are still stunned.
“Since when does he have a cheesy bone in him?”
You giggle, a blush covering your cheeks —maybe he only has a romantic bone for you. It made you happy to know that you are the first and only recipient of his affection and romantic gifts.
Jangmi opened the wine, pouring them into glasses as you set the rose box bouquet on the coffee table.
Should you get the flowers preserved? For safe-keeping? For memories? Will a picture just suffice?
As you busied yourself with your daydreams and questions, your anger slowly melted away. You were touched, honestly and very happy.
Maybe Namjoon wasn’t so bad.
[ next ] Five: The Bride, The Groom, The Wedding and The Night
[ author’s endnote ] the next part of the series —the moonflower of bangtan starring jin takes off from this chapter in the timeline. I wanted to know how you guys wanted me to go about this; I could finish a story and move to the next or I simultaneously update both, a few days apart from each other. While the hyung-line stories aren’t as closely connected as the maknae-line, few books kinda take place at the same time and it can get confusing or irritating or might be too spoiler-y towards the end. I haven’t obviously written the next story yet, but I have the hyung-line stories planned and ready to go if I choose to write them simultaneously. What are your thoughts on this? If you have any questions, anything random to say, something you’ve noticed or just a quick hello, my asks and dms are always open! I hope you are doing well. Lots of love and takecare.
[ taglist ] comment on the post if you want to be tagged. If you are on the taglist but haven’t been notified, please check this post out.
[ genre ] mafia au × arranged marriage au × bestfriend’s brother au × strangers to lovers au ( angst × fluff )
[ rating ]mature-rated
[ warning ] a wannabe steamy kiss scene. jealousy flared by insecurity. drinking. talking about death and deceased loved ones. swear words. calling others rude names.
[ author’s forenote ] your name is baek nari. i’ve changed the name of the installments because I realised that having it named as series name: part one, part two and the like is a little lazy and counter-productive on my part and i’ve changed the names for all of the other installments too. I’ve listed the series masterlist above.
Three: Kim Namjoon, Baek Nari And The Engagement Party
[ chapter summary ] the engagement party and the preparations for the event itself.
“What do you think, Na?”
Madam Kim asks you as you examine yourself in the huge mirror set in front of you. You were in a showroom boutique, shopping for your engagement gown.
“It’s a little too—” The older lady looked at you expectantly, “much.” You finish, not knowing how to say the dress was flashy and not at all your style without hurting her feelings. The dress that you were wearing was her choice. It looked gorgeous when it was on the rack but when you wore it, you just seemed to have ruined it.
“Okay, what do you like and don’t like about it?” The sales assistant who had been appointed to help you, pries, “Do you like the color?”
“Yes, I like the color…” You take a breath, “But I don’t like anything else.”
“Do you have a specific style in mind?”
“I do, but I’m not sure if it’s.. appropriate for—” You say, shooting a glance at the lady standing behind you, listening closely.
“Oh honey, you are the Don’s daughter-in-law,” She assures you, giving a light chuckle, “If you want it, it’s appropriate,” She shrugs, “Now tell us, what were you thinking?”
“Jangmi and I were talking last night,” You start, smiling a little when Madam Kim rolls her eyes playfully. You and your best friend had spent the better part of yesterday and night looking at your options for a dress and you had some ideas.
“I was thinking something a little sexier,” You say, elaborating your ideas, “You know, maybe a thigh slit or a little more cleavage, or a figure hugging gown?” The sales assistant smiled, listening attentively as you described further about the kinds of dresses you’ve liked in the past and what you were comfortable wearing. When you finished, she grinned.
“I think I know the perfect dress for you,” She said and rushed away to get the dress. She drags out a filled rack of clothes to you, grinning excitedly. “These are your options,” She gestured to the rack, “You can take a look and see what you like,” She says, “But, I personally think this is what you are looking for.”
She pulls out a gorgeous gown with intricate detailing all over the bodice and skirt. Madam Kim lets out a tiny gasp at the beautiful piece of clothing and looks at you to watch your reaction. The gown was probably one of the more dramatic and fancier kinds of dresses you’ve seen.
“Can I try it on?” You ask tracing the material with your hand. The sales assistant nodded excitedly and quickly dragged you to change into the dress.
The fitting was expectedly little off, you might need to fix it to fit you right but the color looked beautiful against your skin. There was a thigh high slit and with the right fitting, the bodice would cinch in and the skirt would to show off your curves and your shoulders would be on display for the on-lookers. There was an overskirt which mimicked a ball-gown look and it only added to the gown’s grandeur.
It was a beautiful gown nevertheless, extravagant and subtly sexy.
“You look heavenly, dear.” Madam Kim said in awe, “Namu’s lucky to have you as his wife.”
You smile shyly, “Thank you,”
“We’ll take this one,” Madam Kim tells the excited staff, “Have it ready by next week and we’ll send someone over to pick it up.”
“Yes, ma'am.” She nods, “Would you like to look at the shoes we have?”
After getting your measurements taken and buying a few pairs of shoes to match your dress and a few other things, you and Madam Kim were out of the place.
“Where do you want to have lunch, sweetheart?” Madam Kim asks, when you are finally in the car with your purchases, “Is there something you are craving?”
“There’s a fusion place that serves amazing food,” You say, starting the car. You had requested to not get chauffeured on your shopping trip. You had picked her up in the morning and had driven her around the city. “Would you like to go there, ommo-nim?”
“Fusion place?”
“Yeah,” You nod, driving out of the parking lot, ignoring the cars that followed you. You had specifically requested to not get chauffeured, not without bodyguards, so you really did get what you asked for. “The chef trained in traditional Korean cuisine and now he serves them with a more modern, more western take. I enjoyed the food last time I ate there.”
“Do you eat there often?” She enquires and you indulge her in the conversation.
“Not very often,” You shake your head, “We take our foreign clients there. If they are adventurous, they enjoy more traditional flavours and if they are picky, something there usually satisfies them.”
Madam Kim nods in understanding, “Have Namu and you been talking?” She asks, taking a glance at you, “I know you haven’t really met again after the dinner, but I hope he at least has your number and that you are talking and getting to know—”
You keep quiet, your mind wondering at the last encounter you had with him; him pushing you against a wall, talking nonchalantly about taking you against it, his kisses and his ridiculous deep voice.
Even days after the incident, it still flared a sort of thirst within you. You had let your mind and hands wander away that night and let shame take over the next morning, but the thirst hadn’t vanished, merely subsided for a short while.
Madam Kim takes your silence as a no, and clicks her tongue in disappointment. “He hasn’t, has he?” She sighed, “I don’t get what is wrong with him?” She shakes her head, “I hope he is not hurting you with his actions, sweetheart. He’s just a shy boy,” You give an understanding nod, though you disagreed with what she was saying. The man wasn’t shy, not in the least. Your last interaction was evidence to that. He was just an asshole who wants to make sure you know what you are signing up for.
“Please take care of him, Nari. I know he isn’t a charming prince and his actions aren’t exactly swoonworthy, but he’s not a bad man.” Madam Kim tells you sincerely, “A little slow in the matters of heart, but he knows what’s expected of him and he will try his best to be the best husband for you—”
“I understand, ommo-nim.” You smile tightly, “I will try to be a good wife for him too.” You cut her off, as politely as you could, masking it with sincerity.
You didn’t want to have the conversation of him being a good husband to you. Being a husband was duty to him and you didn’t want him to be duty bound to you. You wanted him to do things for you, care for you, be with you because he loved you or at least because he felt something for you in his cold heart.
Madam Kim smiled at your words, but stayed silent from then on till you reached the restaurant. You wondered if she picked up on your discomfort at the subject or if she just felt heard and had gotten busy with her own thoughts. You had reached your destination, gotten a table at the open terrace that overlooked the city and had ordered for the food. It was then, Madam Kim picked up the conversation again.
“I get scared sometimes you know,” She said, making you perk up curiously. What could possibly scare Madam Kim, the strongest woman you know? “What would happen if we died suddenly? Joonhyung and I?” You blink confused at the sudden remark.
“Ommo-nim, I think you are worrying for no reason!” You laugh lightly, trying to ease the air. “I’m sure the two of you will live a long, healthy and lively life!”
“You can’t be so sure about that, Nari-yah,” She pats your cheek, “You never know with life and death, and with the kind of life we live, it wouldn’t be a surprise if we are killed.” She laughs, almost carelessly and cheerfully. You wonder if the carelessness was something she had grown accustomed to.
Living in constant fear for your and your loved ones’ lives must do something to you.
She had been married into Bangtan against her wish, decades ago from a perfectly law-abiding, poor family. Her family had a run-in with Bangtan and had been blackmailed into helping them commit crimes. Madam Kim, then twenty year old, had put up a fight and ultimately led to the goons getting captured by the police.
The goons were out within hours though, but the former Don found out about her and was impressed with her courage and skills in being able to put his son and his other men behind bars, in a country where the police were basically Bangtan’s uniformed goons.
He asked for her hand in marriage to his son and her parents accepted, because they had no choice. Madam and Don hated each other in the beginning apparently, so much that they didn’t consummate their marriage on the wedding night. It was blasphemy at that time and it had caused a whole issue for them.
Not many knew the intricate details of their early years of marriage but you knew the first few years were very hostile. Your father said if anyone saw them then, they’d never dream that they’d be this happy, in love and with two kids years down the line. They never pretended to even tolerate each other, until the Don brought home a new born baby girl, Saera.
The new born had apparently marked a new start or change in their relationship, while they didn’t have their own child yet, the Don had basically adopted the newborn when he picked her up. The newborn had brought them closer as a couple and eventually led to them falling in love, as hopelessly as they are now. They had Namjoon and Jangmi later of course, but Saera was their first child.
The Don and Madam’s love story was something that’s often told and repeated to all the young girls of Bangtan, so that they expect a mafia prince that’s chosen by the Don, to come and swoop them off their feet.
It was a fantasy of course, not everyone was lucky. You would be one of the unlucky ones. But it served its purpose well. It gave young women hope in the culture of arranged marriages, in the beautiful lie that everyone found love and in the sand-grain sized chance that you will find love in your partner even in the deepest ocean of hatred you held for them.
“Bangtan will go on of course,” She chuckles, “All of us could die and yet, Bangtan would remain strong. Everyone would be fine too.. but what about our kids?” You stayed quiet, knowing she had more to say. “Who will look after Kook-ie? Will he return to the dark place he was in when he lost his parents? How will Jimin and Tae feel about being orphaned again?” She continued, her eyes looking far away at the cityline. “Will Hoseok choose violence to remedy his sorrow? Will Yoongi grow more quiet and far apart from the others? Will Namu cry and wreck everything nice in his life? Will Jin be strong enough to hold everything together? Who will look after my darling Jangmi?” She laughs lightly, exhaling loudly. “Saera will do fine, I think.” She looks at you, eyes glassy. “Can you believe it? My most clingy child who refused to let go of my skirt for years into her teens is the one who barely needs me now..”
“Ommo-nim, you know that’s not how it is.” You try to console her.
But it didn’t seem like Madam Kim was listening. “Saera doesn’t need me when I’m alive, forget after my death.”
“Unnie loves you and Abeo-ji.” You state firmly. You knew she did, just as much she was loved by them. “She’s just.. angry and… hurt. Not only at you, but at everything. Life hasn’t been fair to her and she’s just trying to navigate through it quietly.”
“I know she’s hurt and angry at the world and I hope she’s angry at us too.. We failed her,” Madam Kim replies, “Not only as parents but as the Don and Madam.”
“Ommo-nim, it’s not your fault.” You are firm as you hold her hand across the table. “You couldn’t have stopped him. We know Youngho oppa was headstrong and he did what he did because he was a selfless man who loved his friend. It wasn’t your fault.”
Madam Kim was looking away now, eyes filled with guilt and shame. Everyone could tell her a million times that what happened wasn’t their fault, it was the way of life for Bangtan and Youngho was happy doing what he did, but it didn’t change the fact that one careless decision on their part had ruined a young woman and her child’s life.
“The food’s here,” Madam Kim clears her throat, discreetly pulling out a handkerchief to wipe her tears and smile brightly at you. The food and a conversation diversion had been served. “It looks delicious, Nari-yah. Tell me, which is your favourite?”
The engagement party was at the city’s Grand Hyatt hotel, one of the nation’s most expensive venues. You had arrived at the venue early in the morning to get ready because you had to outshine the luxurious decorations and at the same time, not look like a christmas tree.
You had arrived with your family and had settled into your suite for the day. You had spent your time till the glam team arrived, eating your stress away and watching reruns of Running Man and taking full advantage of the exquisite jacuzzi situation your suite had.
Once they arrived though, everything was a haze.
There were at least three people working on your hair and make-up, two working on your nails, two fixing your engagement dress, taking care of your shoes, jewelry and a photographer in the back who was trying to make everything look as gorgeous as possible for a frame.
When your mother-in-law arrived at your suite, you were more or less done for the day. Your make-up was flawlessly done, your hair perfectly curled and set to show off your uncovered shoulders.
“What do you think, Nari-ssi?” Haera, the make-up artist asked, watching you inspect your look in the hand-held mirror.
“You did a fantastic job, Haera-ssi.” You smile at her in appreciation. “I would’ve never thought I could possibly look this pretty.”
“Make-up only accentuates what’s already there, young miss.” She says good-naturedly, “But, I’ll take the compliment.”
“Shall we get you into the dress?” Sungah asks and you nod, it was about time. You had been stuck to this chair for hours now. You stood up, dropped the robe you were wearing and put on the dress with help from them.
The dress fits you like a glove, the time of the seamstress coming to you to get the fit right is finally worth it. With the proper fitting, you really couldn’t ignore how stunning you actually looked.
There was none of your softness pudding out, instead all settling into pretty curves. The thigh-slit showing off your freshly-waxed, smooth leg and the bodice cinching and skirt flaring to make you feel as gorgeous as you looked.
“Omo! Did an angel come to visit us today?” You hear the giddy voice of Madam Kim and you turn to her and blush shyly, not being able to stop yourself from giggling.
“What do you think of ommo-nim?” You ask, twirling around in your spot, the overskirt train following you.
“An angel for sure!” She laughed, hugging you. “You look so beautiful, sweetheart!” You giggle out a thank you, “Where’s Sook?” She asked, looking around for your mother.
You wanted to be honest and say that you didn’t know and that you didn’t care where she went as long as she didn’t disturb you but refrained for the sake of putting up a front, “She’s probably with Appa or out socializing, ommo-nim. Both of us are in our high spirits and it gets exhausting, so she must be out somewhere relaxing.”
“Oh I understand, sweetie,” She shakes her head sympathetically, “Marriages and everything related to it is always stressful. I wish I could run away from all the weddings and the aftermath I’m supposed to handle too.”
In Bangtan, the marriages were handled by the Don and Madam. The Don began the process by announcing and getting the couple engaged and from there it’s all Madam’s job —the wedding preparations, the bride and everything after the wedding till the couple’s death. Their well-being as a couple was the Madam’s responsibility, making sure that they are happy, making sure that the women are not abused, their kids are well looked after and all.
“But I’m not here to vent,” She gives a mischievous look, “I’m here to deliver something.” You look at her curiously. She opens up the dark blue velvet box in her hands. The box held a beautiful diamond necklace, with matching earrings and a bracelet to complete the set.
“What do you think?” She asks, ignoring the gasps and mutters of appreciation from the others in the room.
“It’s gorgeous, ommo-nim.” You say and she smiles proudly.
“I’m glad you like it,” She grins teasingly, “—and I think it’ll look even more gorgeous if you wear it.”
Your engagement party was simultaneously the most boring and eventful party for you in a long time.
The party started officially with your families joining the guests in the party hall. You walked in with your father, arms linked with his and a bright, happy smile plastered over your face. You greeted a few familiar faces, your uncles, aunts and a few cousins.
You were escorted to the Kims who were at the center of the party, surrounded by the Elites and Jang Yeojin, Jin’s wife. All of them looked particularly good in their suits, but your eyes still managed to stay stuck to Namjoon.
It was a black-tie event, so you were expecting his suit to make an appearance but what you didn’t expect was him to look as good as he did. The dark suit made him look so much more authoritative and intimidating. His hair is slicked back and his sharp eyes roaming over your body hotly.
There’s a part of you that revels in the lustful way his eyes are eating you up but the larger part of you that’s not used to blatant attention from a made-man is flustered, making you blush which brings a smirk to his face.
You talk to the others present, pointedly ignoring him and his teasing smile. The Elites congratulate you and compliment you, giggling and cackling like five-year olds over an inside joke you didn’t understand, but you knew whatever it was, it was directed at Namjoon. He only rolled his eyes at them.
How they were Bangtan’s most capable and scariest was beyond you sometimes.
“Your necklace is pretty, noona.” Jungkook smirks, looking exaggeratedly interested in the jewelry.
“Thank.. you, Kook.” You huff out a little laugh, “I didn’t think I’d be getting compliments over jewelry from you.” You tilt your head, “Are you interested in jewelry all of a sudden?”
“Diamonds, noona.” He smiles wider, a cheeky lilt to his voice. “I’m really into diamonds these days.” The Elites snickered around you and Namjoon ignored them pointedly. Yeojin grinned and you wondered if she understood —she probably didn’t, no one understands Elites’ inside jokes but themselves and you just stayed quiet, wondering what they were finding so funny in diamond jewelry.
You knew there was more to it. There was more to whatever conversation all of you were having, but you weren’t included in the secret. You wanted to investigate but Hoseok was standing away from you and you knew you couldn’t bully the answer out of them if they were all together.
You stayed silent instead, carefully watching and listening to whatever they were saying and engaging them in their jokes and mafia gossip. Your scrutiny was cut short when it was announced it was time for the ring ceremony.
It took them minutes to get you and Namjoon at the center of the attention, with your parents by you. Jimin had grabbed the mic and was hosting the event, guiding and announcing what was happening.
You don’t remember what exactly he was saying, except that he was funny and you giggled endlessly at his little jokes and finally, when you were out of breath and happy, he announced it was time for the ring ceremony.
In a matter of seconds, the spotlight shined on the two of you.
Your heart pounds then, standing in front of Namjoon. You take a deep breath, holding it in as you raise your hand, palm-side down to him. You notice how his large, warm hands dwarf yours, as he holds them delicately, slipping a ring on your ring finger, treating your hand in the most soft way possible.
A round of loud applause and cheers broke out, startling you slightly. You smile, exhaling the breath you held.
It is done, now you are half-married to Kim Namjoon. You gaze up at Namjoon, who smiles sweetly, dimples on display and brings up your hand to his lips and presses a kiss over your knuckles.
You knew it was for a show, it was for the audience, it was for his parents and it was everything and for everyone but you. It was him playing a role, it was an act, it was not real but your traitor of a heart still fluttered and you blushed in betrayal.
You pulled yourself together, face still too red to act like nothing happened but you managed to link your arm around his as you thank and smile at everyone who were congratulating you and Namjoon.
Many of the Bangtan’s members came up to the two of you, congratulating and blessing you to have a happy marriage and of course, sons. If you were scowling at the words, you didn’t show it. You smiled amicably instead.
When it looked like everyone had congratulated you, you were left to your own devices. Namjoon excuses himself and your female cousins hound you the minute he walks away. You sigh as you sit on the couch, giving your legs the much needed rest.
“My legs hurt,” You pout to yourself, “When can I go home?”
“Not anytime soon,” Yeri pats your shoulder sympathetically, “There’s still a dance, dinner and the afterparty,”
“I’m tired,” You sigh, craving a drink. “Can you get me a drink, Yeri?” The younger girl nods happily and goes away with another cousin of yours. You recline back on the couch a little unceremoniously, pout still visible on your face.
“My my, Nari,” Jaein, your cousin giggles, looking at you with bright eyes. “RM can’t take his eyes off you, can he?” She shoves her elbow up your arm teasingly. You roll your eyes, wincing.
“He’s so smitten,” She gushes looking over her shoulder to him, “What did you ever do to him?” She asks, “Share your secrets with us, oh great one.”
You laugh and shrug, looking around to find yourself meeting gazes with the man. He was talking to someone, but his eyes wandered occasionally to you. You lock gazes but look away before you can stare. Yeri had come back with a flute of champagne for you. You thank her, taking a sip of the drink. You wanted something stronger but you weren’t going to complain.
The conversation was lively amidst you as you talked about everything and everyone; people’s hideous fashion sense and the obnoxious Bangtan members. You were so engrossed in the gossip that you didn’t notice Namjoon coming up to your little group.
“Can I have my beautiful fiancé back?” Namjoon asks no one in particular, smiling.
A chorus of yes, of course was heard and your cousins ditched you, murmuring congratulationsandbyes. You roll your eyes at their squeaky tone and scared demeanor. They can barely have a conversation with this man and you are supposed to marry him and have his kids.
You scoot a little away to let him sit beside you. You wanted to be petty and take up the whole couch but you didn’t want to do that in public where the whole of Bangtan was gawking at you two. He smiles, sitting unnecessarily close to you. His body is so close to yours that your shoulders and thighs are touching with how stretched out he is sitting.
You focus on your nearly empty drink, looking around to see if a staff was serving more. You feel awkward sitting next to him, without picking a fight or talking to him but you weren’t in the mood to start a conversation. If he started it, maybe you’d indulge him but you weren’t gonna rack your brain for a conversation starter. It wasn’t worth it.
“Are you enjoying yourself?” He asks, probably feeling suffocated by the awkwardness that was lingering in the air between you.
“If I ignore the fact that I’m getting married,” You turn and smile at him, “—then, I’m having a splendid time.”
It’s almost comical how you can see his expression harden, from a happy, relaxed to a slightly miffed, irritated one. You knew you were being a jerk now, he only wanted to chat with you but you couldn’t stop yourself from saying something snide. He’s about to say something when Jihyo’s voice is heard.
“Namjoon oppa,” She draws femininely, playing with her hair. You roll your eyes, the hatred you held for her physically impossible to contain. “Nari,” She greets you, more as an afterthought.
“Jihyo,” You don’t even bother with a courteous nod.
“You look.. nice.” She says, her smile fake as she looks at you, checking you out from head to toe.
“Thank you, Jihyo.” You say, your tone is sickly sweet, “You don’t look that bad either.”
Her expression changes for a second before she gathers herself with a smile and asks, “Has anyone asked you for a dance yet?” She asks, looking around for someone. She doesn’t stop to listen to your reply, instead continues, “I’m so sorry that they haven’t!” She pouts in fake pity, “I’m sure it’s because Namjoon oppa’s here and not because you are not worth it,” You are this close to verbally ripping her apart when she turns her happy smile towards Namjoon and asks, “Can I have your dance? You can’t dance with Nari, of course, so dance with me?”
You are so sure that Namjoon would say no, that he’d stick up for his fiancé, stick up for you but no, the jerk agrees and stalks away for a dance with Jihyo and you are left fuming.
Engagement parties aren’t thrown for every Bangtan couple, only the high-profile ones get it and that too if and only if they requested it. In your case, it was more a necessity than a request. With these engagement parties came a lot more Bangtan customs that were simply a headache. Like this one for example, the newly engaged couple couldn’t dance with each other before getting married because it brought bad luck, but the two have to dance.
The first dance with any engaged couple is considered an honour, so you knew Jihyo snagging the next Don’s first dance is a step-up in the competition you had going on against her. It was childish and stupid, but you had this rivalry going on for so long that it felt insulting to be the first one to let it go. She wasn’t backing down, so why would you?
You couldn’t show her up with anyone, even if you tried. Who as a dance partner could be more of a catch than the next Don himself? You are begrudgingly admitting your defeat and cursing Namjoon for accepting her offer. If only he hadn’t accepted her offer and went to dance with any other girl in the party. It was also because you were his fiancé that no one has gathered up their courage to ask you for a dance.
It would’ve probably helped if you were nice to him before but you were a jerk and he was only repaying your behaviour by siding with your rival. You roll your eyes, maybe it’s time to find Namjoon’s rival and dance with him. You are busy plotting a murder or murders when you hear the Don.
“Nari-yah,” You turn to him, masking a happy expression, “Can I have the honour of your first dance?”
“With you, Abeo-ji?”
The Don was smiling widely at you, while you gaped at him. You knew the Don didn’t dance with anyone but the Madam. It wasn’t a rule but something he just stuck to. He started the dance with the Madam and she’s the only one he ever danced with.
“Yes,” He nods, extending an arm to you, “Don’t you worry, I’m not a bad dancer and I promise I won’t ruin your dress.” You chuckle.
“The honour’s mine, Abeo-ji,” You smile, feeling grateful and taking his arm and walking to the center of the dance floor. The dance hadn’t begun mainly because you weren’t on stage yet.
Once the two of you were on the floor, with your respective partners, the music began. It was a soft, melodious piano composition and as you began to dance you had to admit you were having fun. The Don was a very good dancer, he wasn’t swift and firm in his moves but more relaxed and gracious as he led you through the whole song.
When the song nearly ended, he smiled at you, “You don’t have to worry about Jihyo, Nari-yah.” You wince at being caught.
“Am I obvious?” You shoot him a guilty smile, “I don’t like her.” You don’t bother hiding the truth from him. Jangmi shared your feelings and you knew she expressed them to her dad more often than not.
“She’ll get married soon enough” He says like it’s a trivial matter, which for him it probably is, “—and as for my son, he’s only yours.” He says firmly, you nod in response. “You will never have to fight with anyone for his attention. He’s just trying to be nice to Jihyo, okay?”
That wasn’t true. Namjoon was pissed at you and rightfully so. You were hell bent on getting on his nerves, talking about the marriage being an inconvenience at every turn when he was only trying to be accomodating and to make this easy on the two of you. He was just letting you know that if you didn’t cooperate with him, he could have his pick of the litter and you would be left in the dust.
It was subtle, but you got it.
He clicks his tongue, when you don’t reply, as if he was trying to convince you to quit it and you were being adamant. “Why are women so stubborn?” He sighs to himself, “Okay, I’ll help you.” He says and you are pulled back into the conversation from your reverie, “All of the Elites minus my son will dance with you,” He mutters, looking around for them.
You are like his daughter and he’ll be damned if he didn’t try to help you win whatever you had going with Jihyo. He knew it was petty rivalry and that it didn’t matter much, but really, there wasn’t much in Bangtan to entertain young ladies, so such competition was the major drama.
You were his daughter-in-law and the Kims didn’t lose to anyone. He would make sure that you not only win this but also let others know not to mess with you. You were the next Madam and they will have to learn to respect and fear you, even in trivial matters.
“Abeo-ji—” You try to stop him, feeling embarrassingly small at your childishness.
“Sh,” He shushed you, “I know you women always have a point to prove when it comes to other women and your man. So just take it and don’t let her show you down.”
You nod and let out a sigh. “Yes, Abeo-ji.” He smiles, muttering out a good.
“Abu-nim,” Jin grins at you, “I’ll take Nari from here,” The Don gives a firm nod, handing you over to him.
“You know what to do and—” He nods, “Take care of my daughter-in-law.”
“Yes,” He grins and pulls you back on the dance floor. “Come on, Nari. I need to flex my superior dancing skills.” You roll your eyes at him, but let him drag you around for a dance. He dances with you, entertaining you with his jokes. He was charming and handsome.
Truly a great man but wasted on the likes of Yeojin.
Just as the song came to an end, the next Elite had walked up to you. Suga gave you a small smile, holding out his hand, and in a soft tone said, "Grant me the honour of your next dance?”
When you had shot him an incredulous look, he only says, “You are the woman of the hour, of course, all of us are frothing at the mouth to dance with you.”
“Of course they are,”
After dancing with Suga, who was surprisingly chatty and gentle, you were handed over to Taehyung. You and Taehyung were friends, being the same age as him and Jimin.
When you were younger, all four of you, often being tagged along by Jungkook got into all sorts of trouble and were quite the havoc till you finished school and you went separate ways into college and Bangtan.
There was a time you could read him like a book, but over the years the soft boy had grown hard and now, he was mostly a stranger with the familiar boxy smile. You wondered if Jangmi knew that V was a different man from Taehyung but you didn’t dwell on it much as Jimin whisked you away.
“Hello, next Madam Kim.” Jimin greets you, placing a hand on your waist, holding your other hand up.
“Hello to you too, Park.” You greet him back, mimicking his tone. “Great job organizing this event,” You smile, appreciatively looking around the place. “It’s beautiful.”
He chuckles, “Well, a beautiful event for a beautiful couple,” He says, “Don’t worry, Nari-yah, I promise I won’t make Jihyo’s party as great as this one,” You gasp dramatically, “We can’t let her win this game, right?” He grins mischievously and you swat at his shoulder, making him double with laughter.
“Am I that obvious?” You ask, “Why does everyone know of this?” You wonder if you are really that obvious that everyone seems to know of your situation with Jihyo. Also, why are these scary men into your petty interactions with a fellow mob-woman, surely they have better things to do?
“Hm..” He thinks over, lips jutting in a pout, looking up like he was thinking over, “You are not exactly obvious.. but everyone already does know of your rivalry with Jihyo.”
“How—”
“I mean, think about it,” He says, twirling you around, “You two are of the same age, have the looks, the status and the riches. You two were at one point, equally eligible to be the next Madam Kim. I think you are better —don’t have me killed, please.” He looks at you with puppy-like eyes and you giggle, he shoots you a smile. “People are bound to compare and have you compete against each other.” He continued, “And thank goodness for us, you two naturally took to the competition and put up with it for so long. Every party and gala, we wait for you two to interact and see where this leads to —a slap or drink-pouring or a swordfight or a wrestling match.” He gasps exaggeratedly and you roll your eyes.
“No really,” He says, “You two make up a great percentage of the Bangtan gossip.”
“Too bad, it’s gonna end soon.” You smile pitifully.
“Too bad it is.” He grins, not very unhappy about it. “Jungkook’s next.” He says and you are pushed to Jungkook.
“Hello again, Lily noona.” He says, dramatically bowing and extending a hand for you to accept his offer. “Dance with me?”
“Of course, Jungkook-ssi,” You take his hand, grinning.
“Namjoon Hyung is looking at us, you know.” He says, when you sway with him, trying not to trip on your dress.
“Is he?” You comment making it sound off-handed but not so subtly look at Namjoon who is standing just around the dancefloor with a group of people.
Jungkook grins, “He doesn’t look too pleased,”
“That can’t be helped,” You snap, then muttering quietly. “He shouldn’t have picked Jihyo over me,”
“Oh my god, Noona!” Jungkook can’t stop himself from laughing, “Were you always like this?”
“Shut up and dance, Kookie.”
After Jungkook, it was Hoseok’s turn. He smiles as you settle your hand on his shoulders.
“Look at our little Lily, winning this competition of life against Jihyo,” Hoseok grins, as he turns you around to music. He was the last one to dance with you and honestly you couldn’t be more glad. Once you were done, you hoped to get out and get some fresh air. The air inside was mildly killing you.
“So petty, Nari-ssi,” He snickered, as you shot him a shocked look. “So fucking petty,”
“Hoseok, the bitch told me no one asked me to dance because I wasn’t worth it!” You scoff, “I’ll be damned if I let her win this petty competition after that. Also, Abeo-ji offered to make you dance with me, I didn’t ask for it.”
“But you accepted it nevertheless?” You nod shamelessly and he laughs.
“She’s lost the competition now,” He says, “We’ve made quite the statement. Actually, I think the Don did.”
You had to agree that a statement was made, it was subtle but it was effective. A statement to any other woman throwing themselves at RM, they might steal off a dance with him or maybe hours of his day, but he was yours and you were the next Madam Kim.
Normally you’d scrunch your face at the title, but today it felt good to have that at the back of your mind. It gives you confidence and strength. When the dance was done, you thanked him and quickly excused yourself to get out of the party hall, but your mother caught you on the way out.
“Now, where are you off to?” She asked, looking condescendingly at you. You look around startled at her rude addressal. What did you do now?
“To the restroom?” You say, “Do you want to join me?” You don’t know why you are asking her to join you, but you do and to your surprise she accepts. You curse at yourself, you were only being polite since you were out among other made-men.
“Let’s go then,” You want to smack yourself but you don’t, instead leading her out to the restroom.
“I didn’t come here to chit chat with you,” She says the minute you are alone, she closes the door behind you.
“I figured as much,” You breathe out, looking at the mirror.
“Do you know about the ring you are wearing right now?” She asks and you raise a brow.
“This one?” You raise your hand up and show your engagement ring. She nods and you shrug.
It was an emerald cut diamond, with a band of smaller stones around the diamond itself and the band, with pretty detailing. It was beautiful, but not your style.
“It’s a family heirloom!” She says, “The former Don’s father gave it to his mother when she bore him a son!” You nod, examining the ring on your finger. You wonder where she mined that information from. You knew the Kims weren’t the kind to engage in talks regarding jewelry, so this must’ve come from the other guests at the party.
“Do you know what that means?” She asks and you are aware of where this conversation is going. Only your mother could hear a story about a ring, find enough information on it and make up a whole reason for why you were receiving it.
“That I bear Namjoon a son too?” You take a wild guess.
“Yes—”
“What the actual fuck?” You scoff, “You do know that’s not how baby’s sex is determined right? I’m not the one in charge—” You stop yourself, “Actually, no. I’m done. I’ll see you next week or whenever.”
“Shouldn’t you be inside enjoying the party?” You close your eyes the second you recognize the deep, rich timbre of his voice. You weren’t even allowed a minute of peace in this world. You were out on the balcony, enjoying some alone time after all the hustle-bustle of the day. The air was chilly but peaceful.
“And shouldn’t you be inside enjoying Jihyo drooling all over you?” You snap, not turning to look at him. You sound jealous, even to yourself.
“You don’t have to be jealous of her, my darling.” You hear the happy lilt to his voice and the increasing volume as he nears you. Your stomach flutters at the nickname, but you choose to ignore it.
“I’m not jealous,”
“I’m a loyal man,” Namjoon comes closer to you, leaning against the railing using his hands, “I would never stray away from you.”
“I am not jealous,” You repeat firmly.
“It certainly felt like it, with how you were throwing daggers at her with your eyes,” He teases and you whip your face to him.
“Be glad it wasn’t her I was throwing from the tenth floor,” You mutter and he laughs. A deep, warm laugh. Probably the first time in your presence and your heart warmed at the sight.
“I am,” He says, “—that would’ve been very hard to explain to Cappo Shim,”
“Hard?” You turn to him in mock shock, “I’m sure Abeo-ji would’ve handled it all for me.”
“Oh yes, he would have.” He says, “He’d have helped you throw her if you’d asked. You are his favourite after all.”
“That I am,” You say, making a motion of flipping you hair and he laughs.
“I knew diamonds would look fantastic on you,” He says out of the blue and you look at him. “You were the first thing to come to my mind when I saw them,” He smiles softly, eyes grazing your shoulders and looks at your eyes again. “They fit you well,”
“You choose them?” Your shock is very visible, in your voice and your face. Were all made-man into jewelry or was this an Elite-only trait?
“I brought it home from my trip to Belgium,” He says softly, his voice low.
“Belgium?” You ask and he nods, “Did you like it?”
“Belgium?” He looks at you, tilting his head, “I didn’t get to enjoy it much. I was there to sign a consignment for Bangtan. We had a stop at Antwerp and I wanted to see the diamond market there, and I thought of you when I saw this..”
He touches the necklace, trailing his finger delicately over the gemstones, leaving behind goosebumps on your skin.
“Why diamonds?” You ask dumbly, all your strength melting away at the proximity of his body to yours.
“Diamonds are a woman’s best friend, right?” He raised a brow, a little smile on his lips.
“I prefer rubies,” You say.
“Noted,” He simply smiles, moving closer to you. He places his hands on the railing either side of you, effectively trapping you. He drops his head to your shoulder, nuzzling you. You feel the goosebumps rising on your skin, but as his warmth as he slots his body against yours. He was warm and you let him be.
“Why are we getting married, Namjoon?” You ask when a few minutes have passed. “You know nothing about me,”
“Not true,” He pulls away, looking petulant like a child accused of something wrongly. “I know your birthday, I know your parents, I know Bangtan, I know where you live, where you work.”
“You know that’s not what I meant—”
He presses a finger to your lips, “Now, I also know you prefer rubies over diamonds, I know a lot about you.”
You scoff, challenging him. “What do I know about you then?”
“You know my birthday, you know my favourite flowers are lilies, whites ones. You know my sister, my parents, my friends, Bangtan. You know what I do for a living, you know where I operate from, you know so much about me.”
“I don’t know what you like for breakfast, how you like your coffee, if you even drink coffee, what your favourite color is, I don’t know your drinking habits, your sleeping habits.. I don’t know if you snore, if you cuddle, if you hog the blankets. I don’t know—” You are cut off again.
Namjoon was as impatient as you initially thought.
“I like sweet things for breakfast, I like my coffee milky and sweet, my favourite colour is green,”
“Again,” You huff, “Not what—”
“You will never know everything about me, darling. But we have our future to learn all about each other.” He sounds sincere, as he looks at you with softer eyes.
“You can know everything but later,” He ground out, pushing himself closer to you, “Now, I need to kiss you,” His voice drops lower getting all whispery towards the end and you are arching up your face to let him kiss you.
Namjoon smiles a little, seeing you so willing and brushes his lips against yours. His lips are soft and steady against yours, sweet as he runs his tongue over them. You are barely aware of your surroundings, his warm hands and scent taking you away to a different plane. You place your hands on his firm chest, barely aware of his viciously beating heart under your palm, stroking unconsciously, while his hand rested on your waist and other cupped your face, tilting it up for better reach.
He takes a few licks at your lips, pushing you up and letting you go quickly and you are slightly panicking. Did he not like it? Did you do something wrong? What happened? Were you kissing him wrong? Were you being too eager? Not eager enough?
Namjoon pulls away, mutters out a little fuck at your wide doe eyes looking up at him and crashes his lips onto yours, roughly this time. Your squeak barely has the chance to be out, when he pushes his tongue into you, lapping at you. His hands that previously held you so softly, were now hot against your waist, noticeably inching down to your ass and the other holding your bare thigh.
You gasp into the kiss, when he harshly grabs your butt, stumbling to link your arms around his neck and into his hair. He sucks on your tongue, your lips bringing out little moans and pants from you that he excitedly drank up. Your hands are holding him desperately, as his body is flush against yours and you are running out of breath. He gives you one last squeeze and lets you go.
He pulls away all too quickly, holding you in case you were too dizzy from all his action. He smirks at you looking disoriented, tucks your hair behind your ears. He chuckles lightly, at your blushy, lightheaded gaze and pulls you into a hug, one last time.
“Let’s go inside,” He pressed a kiss to your shoulder, “They might be wondering where we are, we don’t wanna give them any ideas.” he whispers in your ears, sending a pleasant shiver up your body. He smirks, presses a kiss to your cheek, wraps his hand around yours and pulls you inside.
[next] Four: Months Leading Up To The Wedding Of The Century
[ author’s endnote ] completely unedited. I’ll look over it again tomorrow. the makeout scene needs a little bit of cleaning up but for now, please let me know what you think! edit: I’ve edited it again, I’m not satisfied but I guess this will have to do now. if you have any questions, anything even anything random to say or just a quick hello, my asks and dms are always open. your thoughts and feedbacks motivates me more than the hearts —though hearts and reblogs are nice too. hope all of you are doing well, lots of love and take care.
[ taglist ]comment on the post if you want to be tagged. If you are on the taglist but haven’t been notified, please check this post out.
Summary: Being an Omega is hard, it could be so lonely. The hardships that you would sometimes feel seemed to much, always expected of things you could never fully reach. Always seen as a piece of meat to some, seen as weak and stupid. So you worked your ass off to finally work your dream job. And the world all changed when you met one of the bosses. And couldn’t help but end up falling.
Paring:Rap Line X Fem!Chubby OmegaReader
Warning:A/O/B!VERS, mentions of sexual harassment, heats, ruts, knotting, breeding, angst, possessive behavior, more warnings will be added as needed.
An: These follower few chapters talks about MC back pains, and is hinted how it’s turning into chronic back pain. I write with a second parties point of view for this, as my mother is a severe chronic pain patient, having had three major neck surges and has heratary disk dysplasia, and I wanted to touch some light on it and how it needs to be normalized that people live day to day in pain and how society has made these people out casted and labeled them ‘drug addicts’ just cause they need help to live their life comfortably. They will also be talking about MCs PTSD caused by the accident and how her fathers death has affected her life and how she processes emotions and is scared of loss.
Summary - You would never expect it really. He’s doting. He’s sweet. He’s hardworking. But he’s forgotten his morals. Suspecting it is one thing, but when he confirms it, will you stay or walk away.
Warning - Cheating(Aftermath);
Word Count - 1.8k
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
A/N - Usually don’t do author notes but I owe it to anyone waiting for an update. This bonus is short, and basically the starter of what I’m planning to do in Update 25. It’s all I can post until further notice.
When I do rewrite (yeah I scrapped my draft) and finalize Update 25, as soon as its given an all clear by an available beta, whether it’s a Friday or not, it will be posted.
Needless to say, if you understand how ‘still waters’ work in the Nerve Universe, it’s always a lead up to something stormy and devastating - which is why the next update has to be up to standard.
Have a good weekend. Dms and Asks are open if there are any questions.
Helen, baby, you’ve finally ruined your already battered relationship with your sister.
It was kinda selfish of her. It is her sister’s wedding, and all Helen is doing is wallowing in how she was not the maid of honor. I wouldn’t put it past her to show up in a white dress to the wedding, just because she’s bitchy. Yn would have a field day over it though, Helen would meet the Ice queen, not the princess she’s used to.
This was funny, btw. The probably I mean. Yn is no longer making excuses for Helen, and she should have done that a long time ago.
Hoping we’ll get ti see how if the evil twin shows up at the wedding.
Summary - You would never expect it really. He’s doting. He’s sweet. He’s hardworking. But he’s forgotten his morals. Suspecting it is one thing, but when he confirms it, will you stay or walk away.
They were on a pissing contest, and I’m not sure who won. All of them.
Yuna, Yn, and Helen? I’m sorry Helen, but you have chewed more than you could bite.You were the one who put herself out of the picture by being a toxic and negative influence. And what Yuna said is so true, blood has never determined family. I’ve actually said something similar once to my sister, I told her “you’re my sister by blood, no one can take up your place as such. But your not my friend, and my friends are in a way like sisters to me.” She was not happy.
It is important to put boundaries where they’re due, especially if we need to heal from old wounds. Yuna has come to the realization he sister might not be a person she wants in her life right now, and it’s ok to ask for space, even when it hurts to do so. Another proud moment.
Now, Kenta and Huru… Huru admitting he had some sort of feelings for yn..
Kenta trying to keep his cool:
Me reading their whole interaction while they were checking the vip room:
It is interesting how Kenta considers him an acquaintance but not a friend, but still sorta considers the boys and Yn his family. It shows how attached he’s grown to them. Kenta said: “no one is coming between Yn and Namjoon but themselves”, he truly is a fan boy of their relationship. And he is conscious about the fact that whatever Huru does might affect him on his relationship with the while gang. Respect to Kenta for putting his foot down and setting things straight.
Btw, that last remark? Huru, are you a witch or something? Don’t be casting curses on people, please! Yn is working on herself rn!
Release Date: April 28th, 2021 @ 12:20 p.m. (GMT-5)
“Three years ago, the town was rocked by the disappearance of YN YLN. A bright young girl who had dreams of attending university and becoming a nurse. YN was a kind, shy, studious girl who kept to herself and never caused any troubles associated with teens her age. So imagine her loved ones surprised when she disappears one night from bed - never to be seen again. The strangest part was that all her belongings had been taken, all the photos with her disappeared, and all her social media deleted. But perhaps most peculiar was the wet sand found at the foot of her bed.”
Warnings: yandere behaviors, drug use, toxic relationships, near kidnapping.
AN: Sorry if my writing is a little rusty, it’s been a while.
I got the feeling this was all planned but with one took the picture? Minsuh was a hot mess as well, wonder how it would’ve gone if she’d been the one to open the envelope..
Note: sorry for the double post. previous post didn’t tag :< @/tumblrIT send help
Mid-afternoon, you’re leaning against the bathroom window as you brush your teeth, in nothing but sheer panties and a cropped white tee.
And yes, it’s 3PM. Yes, you just woke up. But as a certified genius and the youngest Nobel laureate in literature, you’ve earned the artistic license to live in jet lag. It’s part of your writerly aesthetic. And if your dumb, one-track mind decided a state of perpetual sleep-deprived undress would be most conducive to writing? So be it.
When you turn on your phone, the first unread message says, “ We’re NOT naming your novel That Ass.”
You type out, “not we, me” with one thumb, spit a mouthful of toothpaste in the sink, and flip the message back to your agent with a friendly winky emoji.
I remember this one fic because I laughed way too much on most scenes. The way you write Smashie always manages to get a smile out of me.
This Namjoon is the remedy to all the angst I’ve been reading lately. Looking forward to part 2! Who am I kidding, I’m looking forward for anything you post.
Summary - You would never expect it really. He’s doting. He’s sweet. He’s hardworking. But he’s forgotten his morals. Suspecting it is one thing, but when he confirms it, will you stay or walk away.
Warning - Cheating(Aftermath);
Word Count - 6.3k
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
A/N - Additional Warning - The topics in the following update hit closer to home for some of us than I care to admit. Should the concept of future disbandment be a trigger, I suggest treading carefully.
First of all, it is so frustrating when you know your password and yet, for don’t mysterious reason, you can’t log in where you want to.. I could relate to yn, because that’s me at least once a week. That was me today actually, I hope I can remember that password tomorrow
Anyway, I’m here not to scream but to be soft af.. And also have some fun at the expense of some of these people..
1. Namjoon is not going to like it when he finds out Huru has the access codes to yn’s building and he doesn’t… I’m looking forward to that for ✨️reasons ✨️
2. This man was testing the fates when he decided to play with fire..
Ji-ho, bub, don’t play with fire..
I like how you explained the difference between trust and blind trust for Namjoon.
It makes sense, given how these guys he considers family are the only ones who have experienced what he has. He loves them, he loves yn. He trusts them to be around her because he knows where they stand with her. As for other people, they’ll never get the same privilege because he can’t tell if they’ll ever turn on him. Even when they been as loyal as Ji-ho.
3. THE GOWTH! THE DEVELOPMENT!
It was probably a mixture of it all, but hey, props to them for not running away from the awkward situation. They’re getting there.
4. GIRL… GIIRLLL!
I’d love to see how she named her accounts. Nambulling would be me, 100% no shame.. The Namrack chronicles or something like that. I’m obsessed.
5. Baby bun is not a baby anymore.
Can we please talk about this man for a minute? He’s been growing up under our noses and we’ve just realized what a sensible man he’s become. How wise he’s gotten. How unafraid of the opinions outs the people who matter to him. I’m proud.
6. This whole convo.
Namjoon being yn’s anchor. Jer safe space (finally going back to being this for her)
I’d be upset as well, but they are right. If they can’t fight back, what’s the point? They all want to be free enough to be who they are and to be with who they want to be. And if it’s taken away, why can’t they fight it? They deserve to be happy, to feel happy about their lives. It’s ok to want more.
Yoongi couldn’t have said it better.
This was long overdue bub, my life has been crazy lately but I couldn’t go on without at least reading one chapter of your incredible work. I’ll be back for more!
➬ 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
➥ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; for sexual tension, making out scene, kissing, explicit (kinda?) sexual scene, implied first time sex, unprotected sex.
➥ Author’s note | Finally, a long chapter! I had to stop myself from splitting this one into two chapters because I didn’t want to ruin the context when this part seems to hold a lot of things that are important to the story. Thank you for your patience with this one, I hope you’ll enjoy reading this chapter :)
chapter vii. then we fall
Speak now or forever hold your peace.
You have heard this line many times before spoken in some of those Western movies that you have watched in the past, mostly happening in the wedding scenes, where some random hero would then jump to their feet and say something that would later send the entire plot into motion. You have no recollection of hearing these words anywhere or anytime in real life, to ever hear them used to force someone to speak the truth or to spill any life-altering secrets in the eyes of the public that might turn someone’s entire world tilting off its axis.
In all honesty, you had never truly known what these words truly meant or what they could do. Not until now, as you recount them to yourself, repeating the line in your head as many times as you need to until the words finally sink in.
Speak now.
Or forever hold your silence.
And forever keep the person you truly love in the dark about your circumstances and how your lives are going to change.
I am officially mad at Namjoon. Can I slap him into oblivion? He’s used to getting what he wants, he’s worked for that, so I’m guessing seeing her not budging made him a little mad. That last scene, I’m not sure how to interpret it. She’s bound to feel something, he’s her soulmate after all, but can her love for jk be stronger? Can she defy fate?
And I’m sad about JK’s choice btw, but I also understand him. He left her before she’d leave him, even if he didn’t know if she’d do that. In a way it does give her enough space to experience the bond and decide what she wants to do.
