#bts invasion au
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hihiii i'm asking again, tell me to stop if you're tired of me, i swear. but would you maybe have hcs for Sara and Cisco, together, in the polycule or just the two of them whichever inspires you most, maybe potentially
darling, if i was tired of you i simply wouldn't answer,
now, now, now, the hoes that pay attention know i hc cisco as aroallo. cupioromantic, to be specific- meaning he has no romo attraction, and desires romo relationships. he loves his romantic partners, not in the way they tend to love him back but that doesn't mean the way cisco loves them isn't important or enough for them. i've also come to see sara as something of an aromantic as well, not completely lacking the attraction as cisco does but it being a fluctuating thing for her; think aroflux.
now, how this relates back to vibecanary- i don't think they would see each other as romantic partners. they're boyfriend-girlfriend, they're friends, they have fun together... they're the best damn fuckbuddies you ever did see. to me, they are queering the platonic and they focus more on sex than anything alterous, such as a queerotic type of thing.
you can really see how my own aroallo-ism gets into everything huh
the other hoes also know that laurel lance was apart of the flarrow polycule pre-murder. at the time of her death, she was with both nyssa and cisco. a while after, sara's legendscule finally links up with the superflarrowcule, forming the biggest arrowverse polycule in the au. there's a rule about family members being in the same exact polycule, but that's rendered null as soon as the family member already in it fucking dies. you'll remember that both sara and cisco was dealing with the death of a big sibling during invasion!, and cisco loved laurel and sara loved laurel and laurel loved them both and sara's telling him about how laurel was like as a kid and cisco's making the absolute worst jokes and both of them are trying not to cry and. sara smells like laurel. and cisco was so loved by laurel.
so they hook up in the chaos of the crisis, comforting one another with sloppy sex, understanding each other's grief in a way no one else does...
their first time was supposed to be a one time thing. sara finds someone else to bang it out with next crossover, that fuckbuddy-stealing alex danvers. they don't even hook up again when sara finally finds her way back into nyssa's arms, when olicity finally get her into their bed, when she's waking up tangled between iris and felicity and kara.
it's not until olivibe finally become official- no spoilers- when vibecanary picks up again. by then, laurel is up and breathing again, so is tommy, and laurel chooses to become tommy's wife and stay out of the polycule. thank god for that, cuz there was no protocol for when a polycule member dies, their family member joins, and then the original member resurrects- who stays? what the fuck is happening?
anyway!!!!
but, again, it's the laurel of it all. she's alive again, and cisco can't be with her. she's alive again, and sara never wanted laurel to have to know death as well as sara does. and again, they're both dealing with... weird sibling shit- no spoilers but i mean, pretty easy to guess- and they're lonely and weird and cisco and sara were just supposed to be in star city to visit olicity but then olicity has team arrow business and they're left alone, and, well.
so they hook up, again, as a... unique coping mechanism. and they let themselves have fun together, laughing in the face of grief. sara has puns for days. cisco's sex jokes are the worst things in existence. it doesn't have to be big and emotional and a star-crossed whirlwind epic romance chronicle when they're together- they get to be simple.
they get to slip into each other's lives easily and leave just as easily. they don't have to schedule time together, they take it as it comes. what they are may not seem... important to non-aroallos, they love to look down on platonic fuckbuddies in favor of 'serious' relationships, but it is serious to vibecanary. it just also happens to be easy. sometimes, when you have lives as hectic as theirs, you need something that's fun and simple.
when they're burntout from their other partners and at risk of polysaturation, all it takes is a fun night with each other to feel renewed
so they keep hooking up. and eventually they start calling each other boyfriend and girlfriend, cisco does it jokingly once and sara runs with it, and they never stop bc it's not about comforting each other over laurel anymore, it's about comfort point-blank, and sara's really good with her tongue between cisco's legs and cisco makes sara laugh so much and also now cisco has an excuse to be all up in the waverider YIPPEE!!!
i hope to write this fic one day 🫡
#this only mentions kara once but it wouldnt feel right to cut melissa out of the bts photo#frosty answers#arrowverse asks#arrowverse polycule au#vibecanary#canaryvibe#cisco ramon#sara lance#invasion!#legends of tomorrow#dc's legends of tomorrow#the flash#the flash cw#cw the flash
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fic recs: bts ii
disclaimer: some fics contain mature content, so minors DNI!!!!
jin
on the ropes @raplinesmoon a | s - wc: 18k
ex-boxer!jin, lawyer!reader, infidelity!au
stay with me @bts-trash-blog f
long-distance relationship, established relationship
give me love @taleasnewastime s | f - wc: 6.1k
established relationship!, pwp
night drive @minimonojoon f - wc: 3k
best friends to lovers!au, groomsmen!jin x bridesmaid!reader
i’m all yours @sailoryooons f - wc: 2.3k
best friends to lovers!au, idiots to lovers!au, so so soft!!
yoongi
speak now @vminity21 a | s - wc: 2.4k
friends to lovers!au, bride-to-be!reader
almost @bluewhale52 f - wc: 1.9k
established relationship!au, idol!au, wife!oc
like flowers we bloom @cupofteaguk f - wc: 5k
bad boy!au
no rebounds (series) @joheunsaram a | f | s - wc: 16k
marriage!au
hobi
the ick @taleasnewastime f - wc. 6k
friends to lovers!au
namjoon
first christmas @spideyjimin f - wc: 2.2k
established relationship!au, christmas!au, parents!au
how i love you @ahundredtimesover a | f | s - wc: 28.3k
established relationship!au, husband!namjoon
cruise control @lavienjin s | f | slight a - wc: 13.6k
street racer!au, doctor!reader
somewhere between the lines @caelesjjk s | a | slight f - wc: 9.8k
divorce!au, exes to lovers??
i love you @ughseoks f - wc: 1.8k
established relationship!au, slice(s) of life!au
doom boy @raplinesmoon a | s | slight fluff - wc: 14.2k
mafia!au, established relationship!au, namjoon thought he escaped his past…
class act @jvngkook97 f | s | a - wc: 4.7k
college!au, jock!namjoon, introverted!reader, strangers to lovers!au
an affair of the art @raplinesmoon f | slight a - wc: 1.3k
husband!namjoon, new parents!au, dad!namjoon, art enthusiasts!au
jimin
lovely demons @kpopfanfictrash a | s - wc: 41.7k
fantasy!au, enemies to lovers!au
serendipity (series) @sopebubbles a | f
idol!au, pregnancy!au, smau and written
lust @adonis-koo s - wc. 11k
demon!au, strangers to lovers
taehyung
heart of the flame (series) @chateautae a | s | f
roommates!au, friends to lovers!au
in bloom @untaemedqueen a | f | s - wc: 6.2k
tattooed&pierced!taehyung, tattoo artist!taehyung, florist!reader, married!au, family!au
farmer boy, i love you @strawberrynamjoon a | f | s - wc: 35k
farming!au, enemies to lovers
breath of spring @cupofteaguk f - wc: 9k
florist!au, strangers to lovers
girl code @allysonhope f | slight a - wc: 7.4k
friends to lovers!au, oc tries to respect girl code
come back home (series) @another-army-spot a | s | f
dad!taehyung, teen parents, exes to lovers
the odds on us @jimilter a | s | slight f - wc: 15.5k
exes to lovers!au
jungkook
crush @jungxk light a | f | s - wc: 5.1k
memory loss!au, established relationship!au, dad!au
a lover’s bond @latetaektalk heavy a | f - wc: 18.7k
greek mythology! AU- specifically orpheus and eurydice! AU
marry me? @bebejungkook f - wc: 0.7k
established relationship!au, gamer!jk, crybaby!reader
this is how you fall in love @jeonqkooks s | f - wc: 9.3k
rockstar!jk, established relationship!au
down and down @koorara a | f - wc: 12k
mma fighter!jk, exes au
put your head on my shoulder @koorara slight a | f | s - wc: 10k
married!au, husband!jk
alien invasion @nocturnal-jeon f
fiancée!jk, new dad!jk
the reconnect @bonny-kookoo s | a | f - wc: 12.5k
exes to lovers!au, one night stand!au, dad!jungkook
bleeding for you @mercurygguk a | f - wc: 3.3k
EMT!jk, fiancé!au, car crash
inkling @gguksgalaxy a | s - wc: 17.7k
tattoo artist!jungkook
love in the dark @spideyjimin s | a f - wc: 18k
ceo au, forbidden romance au, established relationship au, exes to lovers
the truth untold @crispy-chan a | f - wc: 26k
royal!au, forbidden love, arranged marriage, knight!jungkook x princess!reader
lover @wnderkoo f - wc: 2.1k
established relationship!au, break up!au (BUT NOT REALLY)
the manliest @kookslastbutton s | f - wc: 1.2k
established relationship!au, crack, jk tries to be hard dom
under your skin @bonny-kookoo s | f | slight a
strangers to lovers!au, tattoo artist!jk, shy!reader
what if i love you too much? @taleasnewastime s | f | a - wc: 20.6k
neighborhood!au, single mom!reader
busted @btsgotjams27 f | slight smut (suggestive) - wc: 0.8
husband!jk, biker!jk (enough said)
#bts fic rec#bts imagines#bts#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#bts smut#bts angst#bts fluff#jin x reader#jin fluff#jin angst#seokjin imagine#yoongi x reader#yoongi angst#hoseok x reader#jhope x reader#hoseok angst#hoseok fluff#namjoon x reader#kim namjoon#bangtan rm#namjoon angst#namjoon fluff#jimin x reader#taehyung x reader#jungkook x reader
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On With The Show (knj)
summary: Eight years after announcing their retirement, Dark & Wild seems to have been left behind. For Namjoon, he could never forget the time his dreams became a reality, and he's determined to retake the charts by storm once again. Struggling with raising a teenage daughter, the loss of his wife and poor writing projects with terrible bands, he’s now had enough. So with a little help from the only remaining active fan site, he embarks on a mission to convince his bandmates that a comeback might not be the mid life crisis they think it is.
word count- 33.9k (🥴💀)
pairing- retired bassist!Namjoon x lawyer!Reader
rating- R
genre- rockstar!au, s2f2l, fluff, smut, angst, slight slow burn, single dad!au
warnings- retired!bangtan, dilf!joon, lowkey making fun of Mötley Crüe but not really, recreational drug use, drug overdose, hospitals, minor character death, depression, protected sex, oral (m and f receiving), too many song references (namjoons catalogue mainly), soft soft joon, joon is dad to a 16yo, jungkook is a shameless dedicated dad to twins, joon is 36, invasion of privacy, lots of talk about being famous
playlist- don’t//aeon ft rm, ny state of mind//nas, bicycle//rm, spring day//bts, always//rm, human behaviour//bjork, death with dignity//sufjan stevens, seoul//rm, outro//maanu, heavenly//cigarettes after dark, trivia love//bts, on with the show//motley crue, war of hormones//bts
a.n- this fic is part of the Can’t Be Tamed collab hosted by @jeonjcngkook. please check out the other fics in the collab, they are all amazing!
I’m very excited to share this fic with all of you! it’s been in the making for a very long time and is the longest one shot I’ve written yet. Hope you enjoy this story and that you remember never to let your inner fan girl down! Hehe💕💕
special s/o to @raplinesmoon and @playmetheclassics for beta reading this for me and to @mapleglasses27 and @bluewhale52 for hyping me up and brainstorming with me! i honestly don’t know what i would do without you all! ily 🥺
Banner by the ever talented @hobeemin 💕😍
As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask! 💌
-
The guitar riff crashed through the speakers, loud and chaotic, distorted to a growl that got the heart beating. Notes cascaded over each other as if chasing themselves in a circle like kids in a park. Soon after, the drums and bass joined them, high hat crashing in time with the snare, the strings of the bass slapping against fingers, pinging loud and clear. A destructive medley morphing into a foot-stomping melody that bounced off the soundproof walls bringing a smile to Namjoon’s face.
A smile that dropped as soon as the vocalist started singing the verse.
“What are the colours of the skies really?
They're bright black when falling apart
Were our drifts back then okay?”
With a scowl, Namjoon straightened in his seat, turning off the recording,and hitting the button for the mic. The band seemed unbothered as they kept playing, bobbing their heads to the music. It would be commendable how absorbed they were in the music, if they weren’t completely fucking up Namjoon’s song. He cleared his throat into the mic, thankful for the abrupt silence.
“Vince, for the last fucking time. Those are not the lyrics,” Namjoon said, only to be met with an eye roll that boiled his blood. The audacity of these rookies was too high. They had barely debuted two years ago and somehow their egos seemed to have grown infinitely larger.
“And for the last fucking time, man. These work better,” Vince argued through the guitar pick secured between his teeth, using a tattooed hand to push his bright purple hair back. He looked to the three men next to him for support and all of them agreed, nodding enthusiastically. Well everyone except the lead guitarist, Mick, who as per usual was just staring into space, expression as vacant as Vince’s head.
“How do they make sense? What’s fucking bright black? And the colours of the sky?” Namjoon questioned, frustration making itself known from the tick of his jaw as he tried not to explode.
He hated this band. He hated this job. His name held a lot of weight in the industry, and he couldn’t fathom how he had even gotten to where he was right now; writing songs for an over entitled bunch of kids half his age.
Much like any other person in the music industry, Namjoon started with a dream. Well, a dream and a threat from his mom. When he was sixteen, his mother had looked him straight in the eye and given him one year to go out into the real world and make money from the music his friends kept playing in her garage, and if he was unsuccessful, he was to pick up his studies and continue on her dream of him becoming an engineer. And well, Namjoon was a stubborn, talented kid.
Within six months, his band had not only signed onto a label, but Dark and Wild had successfully started preparations for their debut album, one that charted number one worldwide and convinced his mother that the noise he was always playing was worth something.
That number one album turned into platinum, and then so did the next three albums. By the time Namjoon was twenty-two, he was the bassist of the hottest band in the world, his songs being chanted by people of all ages, all races.
World tours, whirlwind romances, and new hotel rooms every weekend became the norm. At the peak of his career, Namjoon was an ambassador for four luxury brands, three alcohol companies, and one electronics conglomerate, his face plastered over billboards from New York to Seoul to Paris. That was also when he became a husband and a proud father to the world’s most beautiful baby girl.
And then, merely a few years later, he lost the love of his life and his band in the span of four months. It wasn’t dramatic, it was life. Everything happens for a reason, and Namjoon believed that for him that reason was the beautiful girl his wife had gifted him.
If his band hadn’t called it quits, he would have never spent time raising her, learning how to be the best dad and learning the way his daughter’s brain worked, so intricate and creative that he sometimes got tears in his eyes just thinking about the fact that he was responsible for creating someone so extraordinary.
Which is why the fact that the bunch of kids in the studio were talking about her made his blood boil, his jaw tensing from all the expletives he wanted to throw at them.
“Dude I can’t believe you picked this boomer cause of his daughter!” Vince taunted his bandmate as he laughed, his nasal snort pumping through the vein now throbbing on Namjoon’s forehead.
“What can I say, man, that chick’s fucking hot, and the way she drums. God damn!” Tommy, the drummer, professed, his hands still holding the sticks now coming to rest on his chest as he leaned back on the stool, the bandana on his head falling backwards with the movement.
Raising a child alone in his mid-twenties had taught Namjoon a lot of things, most of all patience, but he was of the firm belief that not even Buddha would have kept his cool at Tommy’s next words.
“Yo Namjoon! You gotta bring her to the next session. I can really teach her how to bang those drums, if you know what I mean,” he answered with a smile as slimy as his greasy hair, and Namjoon couldn’t help exploding out of his chair, his notebook scattering to the ground as he swiftly made his way to the door of the recording room.
However, before he could pummel that disrespectful worm into the ground, the producer next to him was on his feet, holding him back, his small stature no match for Namjoon’s large build. Seeing red, Namjoon scrambled for the door, falling to the ground and in the process taking the innocent producer down with him. All while the band laughed at him. Generation Swine, what a fitting name for a bunch of pigs.
“Yo boss, you need this gig right?” the producer wheezed from under him, trying to calm down Namjoon with rationality but he didn’t know Namjoon. Thinking about the multiple zeros in his checking account and even more in his investments, his vision cleared, a calm surrounding him.
“I don’t actually,” Namjoon replied, getting back up and helping his coworker with an apology, before he turned back to the band with a condescending smile plastered on his face.
“I quit. And my contract says I can take back my songs. Enjoy an empty album, fuckers.”
With a middle finger in the air, he picked up his messenger bag resting on the couch and his notebook and strolled out. Why hadn’t he just done this before?
—-------
Even though he was notoriously a punk rock artist, nothing calmed Namjoon down more than old school hip-hop, and so as he drove to pick up his daughter, he blasted Nas, rapping along at the top of his lungs.
“Hand me a nine and I'll defeat foes
Y'all know my steelo, with or without the airplay
I keep some E&J, sitting bent up in the stairway.”
It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He had been spending hours everyday pouring himself into music that was insightful and poetic, only to be stonewalled by a bunch of unwashed children who thought what punk really was.
Did they really think watering down his lyrics would make them more relatable? He’d been going back and forth with the Swine for months, and yet they didn’t understand that music didn’t really mean anything unless it said something.
Anyone could string together a melody and talk about fucking and destroying property but the greats always had something to say, something to change. They didn’t chase empty avenues with mixed messages, they took a stand. That’s what punk was, not a distorted guitar with the goal to get laid. He knew that at sixteen and he knew that now at thirty-six.
Real music changed lives.
As the track changed to a more mellow beat, he let his fingers tap the steering wheel, cautiously turning into the cul-de-sac and waiting for the gate to Jungkook’s obscenely secure mansion to open before driving down the long driveway. Driving to his house always made him a little nostalgic, mostly because he was proud that his youngest bandmate had finally settled down from his much wilder days, but also because Jungkook’s home always felt like his home.
It was where he had spent much of his time after the band disbanded, his deep depression and the sudden sole responsibility of a six-year old turning him into a useless shell of a human. He would always be grateful to Jungkook for taking him in when he was at his worst and coaxing him out of the darkness. He shuddered to think of how much worse he would have gotten if he hadn’t had the courage to run to Jungkook eight years ago with his daughter in his arms and tears cascading down his face.
He smiled a little, eyes turning to the big box of gourmet donuts he had picked up for his friend’s family. Parking near the front door, he picked up the box, only to be interrupted by the ringing of his phone, the usually calming chimes grating his nerves when he saw his manager’s name light up the screen.
“What Sejin?”
“Don’t what Sejin me! You quit? Are you kidding me?” The usually cheery man yelled through the line, his exasperation easily conveyed through the static.
“Yup,” Namjoon replied stubbornly, popping the syllable at the end, still too happy to have left that band of wannabes behind to be bothered by the scolding he could see coming. “I realised, I’m literally a millionaire. I don’t need this job.”
“Literally a- Again, are you kidding me?!” Sejin sputtered, and Namjoon grimaced as he heard some of his spit land on the speaker. “You do realise you signed a contract right? A two-year contract, to write for them, exclusively?”
“And?” Namjoon egged him on. “There’s that clause right? That I can pay damages or whatever?”
“They are claiming that those ‘damages or whatever’ are over five million dollars! You either lawyer up, or you go apologise to the band.”
Namjoon snorted at the absurdity. The only way anyone could get him to apologize to that bunch of talentless fuckers was if they animated his dead body with Frankensteinian magic. Not wanting to spoil his good mood, he locked his car and made his way to the front door..
“Send me a list of lawyers,” he said curtly before hanging up on a seething Sejin. He should’ve been worried, or at the very least concerned, by a threat from a very large and influential record label, but Namjoon was finally free and nothing was going to get him down. Not when as soon as he rang the bell, he was greeted by his daughter, a large grin on her face, the dimples that matched his etching deeper into her cheeks.
“Dad! You know you don’t have to drive slow even on a driveway, right?” she teased, giving her father a side hug and greedily reaching for the box of doughnuts, which he raised above his head.
“Moonie, these are for the twins!” he chastised, returning her hug and ruffling her hair only to annoy her, chuckling as she whined at him.
“Joon! You gotta stop bringing sweets! I’m gonna lose my abs!” Jungkook shouted from the foyer, walking over with one of his boys in his arms, the other running behind him. Jun-seo copied his father as he pulled a wincing Jungkook’s hair, and Namjoon couldn’t stop cackling at how cute “I’m gonna lose my abs!” sounded coming from a three-year old’s mouth.
He greeted his friend before leaning down and swooping Hyeon from the ground in his arms, trying to make conversation with the shyer twin as his daughter took the box of doughnuts, opening to look for her favourite. It didn’t take long for Jungkook to coax him into having dinner with his family, laughing at the way Moon sighed in relief of not having to endure her father’s terrible cooking for the night.
Nothing could be more relaxing than having dinner with his closest friends and his daughter, Namjoon thought as he helped Jungkook’s wife wash the dishes, taking care not to let any of his clumsier tendencies shine through. There were only so many of her dishes he could break before she would ban him from the house completely. He smiled as she told him about her day and how the twins had somehow started a paint war with the neighbouring kindergarten class, resulting in her trying to talk the principal out of suspending them.
“They can suspend someone in kindergarten?” he asked, incredulous, wiping the last of the dishes and pouring himself a glass of water.
“You know how people are, Joon. Just cause we have our personal lives plastered all over they assume that we can’t parent,” she sighed, joining him at the breakfast nook, a sad smile on her face. “That’s why I’ve been so against nannies, you know… Because what if they’re right?”
“Hey they aren’t right. You and Jungkook are great parents,” he squeezed her shoulder as he consoled her, happy to see her smile more genuinely at his compliment.
“And we don’t need babysitters cause we have Moon,” she said, looking up at him with a mischievous smirk her sons had inherited from her before she softened. “You’re a great parent too, Joon.”
Namjoon’s heart warmed at her words. He had often thought that perhaps a lack of a mother would make Moon lonely, make her want a more stable female presence. He was happy that Jungkook’s wife had filled that role for her somewhat, acting like a mother even when she didn’t have to, from teaching her about periods to gossiping with her about boys. Things that Namjoon still found a bit awkward to connect with Moon about. It was not that he was bad at it, it was just that he had never experienced those things himself, so who was he to teach her about them?
The heartfelt moment was interrupted by Jungkook entering the kitchen, a scowl on his face as he looked at Namjoon.
“You quit?” Jungkook asked, voice strained as he poked the inside of his cheek. Namjoon could feel that his friend was angry but he was still too ecstatic from leaving that dreadful job behind, so he just smiled, nodding in response.
“They are gonna sue you! Are you serious?” Jungkook seethed, confusing Namjoon who couldn’t for the life of him figure out why he was so upset, especially when he already had an amazing back up plan. At least not until his next words left him, making Namjoon bow his head in shame.
“You have Moon to think about. Do you think she’d like the media circus?”
“I just couldn’t take it anymore,” he exhaled, his teeth worrying his bottom lip as he came clean about his outburst, the days of building frustration as the band took his hard work lightly and spent hours drinking and getting high instead of working.
Jungkook seemed to soften as he spoke, and Namjoon couldn’t help but take the melting of his anger as encouragement as he continued, letting him into his backup plan, “We were so much more serious than them. We had a work ethic. We still could… Would it be so bad if Dark and Wild got together again?”
“P-pardon?” Jungkook sputtered at Namjoon’s words, coughing as he tried to wrap his mind around a comeback. Turns out Namjoon’s plan wasn’t foolproof and his heart fell as his friend vehemently disagreed, not wanting to be away from the twins to be back on the rock and roll train. He missed that life too, but unlike Namjoon, he had made his peace with it, happy to let it go to be a full-time father.
“I was a dad when the band was together,” Namjoon argued, not willing to let go of his renewed dream.
“And look what happened to Seo!” Jungkook spat, instantly regretting his words as Namjoon’s face fell. However, no matter how quickly Jungkook apologised, Namjoon couldn’t listen, the grief he had buried away clawing at his chest again. With a curt goodbye amongst the apologies, he asked Moon to follow him and made his way to the car.
“Dad… you okay?” Moon asked, once they were on the way home, worried about the way her father sat in silence when usually she would have a hard time making him shut up.
She knew he got this way occasionally, too deep in his head, and she had a sneaking suspicion it was whenever he missed her mom, and so when she didn’t hear a response, she leaned over, placing a hand over his on the steering wheel to loosen his grip.
Namjoon smiled at her, a hand leaving the wheel to squeeze her fingers between his. Sometimes he forgot that she wasn’t a kid anymore, that she was mature, empathetic almost to a fault, able to read his mind with just a look.
Namjoon promised himself that he would always be honest with her, be it about his feelings or things happening in his life. He had kept his promise whenever she would ask about her mom as a lost six year old and he kept his promise now as he told his sixteen year old about the argument he had just had with Jungkook.
In a lot of ways it helped him process the conversation, coming to terms with Jungkook’s fear from Moon’s insight. She was right when she said that it had less to do with blaming Namjoon when he was away from her mother, but more to do with her uncle’s fears of the same happening to his wife, no matter how irrational the thought was.
Namjoon couldn’t help but stare at her, mouth falling open in shock.
“Tell me again how you’re only in tenth grade?” he teased. “When did you get your psychology degree?”
“Come on dad. No one really needs university nowadays. You can just learn everything from Re-”
“You’re going to university. I don’t care how much Reddit can teach you,” Namjoon interrupted, eyes narrowed as he pulled into his designated parking space in the lot under their apartment. “You can get a real degree and then you can be my therapist.”
“I can’t be your therapist,” she huffed, crossing her arms with a scowl that reminded him of her mother so much he couldn’t help but smile. “That's a conflict of interest!”
He burst out laughing at her words, getting out of the car and helping her carry the multiple boxes of food Jungkook had prepared for the two of them, insisting that they take them despite the cold exit. Moon melted at her father’s joy, punching the code for the top floor as she adjusted her backpack. When the doors closed, she looked at him grinning widely.
“You know, War of Hormones is going viral on TikTok,” she commented, laughing at the way Namjoon groaned at the mention of his slightly cringey debut single. “I think you guys still have fans. A lot of them. People are still making thirst traps of all of you.”
“What’s thirst traps?” Namjoon asked as the private elevator opened up to their apartment, the smell of cedar and sandalwood calming him after a stressful day.
“You know like this,” she said, following her father into the kitchen and placing the boxes on the counter before pulling out her phone and scrolling through the app. She handed Namjoon the phone and he had to stop his eyes from falling to the floor at the video in front of him.
Set to an extremely horny rap about wanting someone’s dumptruck in their little garage was a video of Hoseok thrusting into the air as he sang into the mic, following by a close up of Jungkook as he took his shirt off and threw it into the crowd, just as it moved to a video of Yoongi licking up the strings of his guitar, a smirk on his face as he made eye contact with the camera.
Then there was Seokjin, Jimin and Taehyung at one of their sold out shows, ripping the buttons of their shirts simultaneously while winking at the crowd, and Namjoon couldn’t help but laugh at the how stupid they looked. The last clip was of him holding Moon as he brought her two-year old self on stage, big yellow muffs protecting her ears from the noise as he let her strum on his bass.
“Wait, why am I the only one not being sexy?” he questioned, frowning.
“I don’t know. I guess people love you being a dad,” she shrugged, taking her phone back, laughing at how ridiculous all of her uncles looked during their glory days, before looking at her father and giving him a tight hug. “I love you too, dad. And I think you still have a lot of fans who’d love a comeback.”
Namjoon’s heart dissolved in his chest, filled with warmth as he kissed the top of his daughter’s head, returning her hug ten fold, squeezing her to his chest as she squirmed. That night after she had gone to bed, Namjoon researched his fans. If Moon thought that fans still existed, maybe he could convince the guys to give the comeback a shot. They always did love Shadows more than anything.
Scrolling through numerous web pages, he stumbled on to a fansite that was surprisingly still active, posting periodic updates about Dark and Wild’s current careers, as well as edits of their old selves, and pleading for a comeback. Perhaps the way to his band member’s hearts was a heartfelt plea from a Shadow, and how apt that the username was yummyjungkookie.
His scrolling through nostalgia was interrupted by a text from his manager, a list of lawyers that were fit to go over his case with him. Picking the first name, he sent an appointment request.
However, not before messaging yummyjungkookie and asking for a meeting.
—-------
With a heavy exhale, you entered your apartment, leaving your heels haphazardly by the front door and your bag littered on the floor. Today had been an exceptionally stressful day and you could feel every joint in your body creak as you laid on the couch. Stretching, you thought about the weird email you had received. Well, two very weird emails.
Somehow when you started working in corporate law, you wouldn’t have thought your trajectory would lead to working on celebrity contracts. Initially it was an easy choice; getting paid exorbitant amounts of money for advising clients and looking over contract disputes that usually never ended in court. However, now you were tired of behind the scene action. You wanted to see inside of a courtroom again, to argue, to research prior cases that would help you form the perfect closing statements. There was a thrill to fighting a case in the courts, and you envied your friends from university who were working on class action suits against greedy landlords and other corporate vultures.
Today was supposed to be the day you gave in your two week notice, to pursue something less money-based. It was a privileged position, but you were a single woman in her early thirties, and with your last relationship burning to the ground, you often looked at your ever increasing savings account with disdain, as if your ambition was responsible for Ryan cheating. But when you walked into your firm’s partner’s office with your resignation letter in hand, he convinced you otherwise by handing you a new case.
It wasn’t a particularly exciting case, a pretty straightforward contract violation, but the moment you heard who you would be representing, you couldn’t go through with your plan. Your younger self would have murdered you if you did so.
You could see your nineteen year old self, decked out in the Dark and Wild merch that still lived in your closet, standing behind your boss as he talked about the case. Because you would be representing none other than Namjoon Kim, notorious bassist of Dark and Wild. Even though he was arguably your least favourite member, considering that he used to be a bit goofy and a little bit of fuckboy even with a kid, you would carry on your duty as a loyal fan and get him out of this bind.
After all, once a Shadow, always a Shadow.
You were somewhat a menace in undergrad, from almost missing exams because the band was doing an album signing, to following them on tour each summer, to even getting their lyrics tattooed on your ribcage.
You chronicled your interactions with them in your blog with high quality photos, which became almost notorious in the Shadow circle, your followers skyrocketing with their fame. In a way their disbandment was a blessing for you, you were not sure how you would have dealt with the workload of law school if you were still keeping up with them.
Groaning you rose from the couch, deciding a drink would help calm you down. Pouring yourself a glass of cabernet, you settled back on the couch, opening your blog on your laptop and staring at the other email you had received out of the blue.
Either Namjoon Kim was stalking you or this eerie coincidence was the fruit of years of obsessive manifestation. However, if it was, it would be Jungkook Jeon emailing you. You wondered if he still had those fantastic abs from back in the day. God, those things could cut glass.
Controlling your sudden thirst, you took another sip of your wine, thinking best to reply to the email you had received.
Hi yummyjungkookie.
You’re probably wondering why I’m messaging you. Well, I have a proposition. I was wondering since you are the only active fan site we have left, if you’d be interested in helping us do an analysis of current fan culture, well Shadow culture. Let me know and we can set up a meeting!
-Namjoon
PS: In case you think this is a troll, here’s a photo proof
Below his email was a photo attached of the man himself, round glasses making him look younger than his age with a card on which the date and time was haphazardly written.
You laughed at how seriously he had taken the request, although you were sure you would not have believed him if he didn’t attach the proof. Your laughs only got louder as you read the next message he had sent.
Oh shit. I guess I should also say, please don’t tell people about this. You won't, right?
-Namjoon
“What are you cackling at?” your roommate, Hera, questioned as she stepped out of her room, hair a mess as if she had just woken up. Well, knowing her, she probably had. She was notoriously nocturnal, being a freelance artist had that effect.
“Nothing. Just a meme,” you replied, somehow endeared enough by the email to keep it a secret. Hera walked over to the couch, yawning and reaching for your glass, taking a big swig and ignoring your scowl. You loved Hera. You had been friends since law school, but somehow as soon as she dropped out of law school she had become a little overbearing.
“Alright. What’s for dinner?” she asked, stretching her limbs out on the couch as she leaned back and turned on the television. You rolled her eyes at her, getting up to finally change.
“I already ate after work,” you pouted to get off the hook easier before apologising and going to your room.
“Ugh. I guess I’ll go on a date then. Enjoy your sad nostalgia blogging, you loner,” she called from the living room, grating your nerves as you locked yourself in your room, waiting for her to leave, so you could order food and not share. It may be petty but you were tired of paying for her meals, on top of paying for the rent.
—-------
“Wait so you called us all here to ask us to get the band back together?” Yoongi asked, eyes scrunched in disbelief. Or the early hour, Namjoon wasn’t sure. To be fair, Namjoon should’ve seen the reaction coming, considering how Jungkook had reacted, but he still had hope.
Namjoon had spent the past two days going over the fansite he had found and it encouraged him to set up the brunch meeting with his friends. If a stranger was working so hard to keep their fans engaged, shouldn’t they also do something. Didn’t they owe their fans something? Apparently the argument wasn’t as convincing as he thought it would be.
“Okay I’m not saying I’m fully against a comeback, but come on Joon. We’re has-beens… Shadows don’t even exist anymore,” Seokjin said, sipping a mimosa, freshly tanned from an impromptu trip to the Maldives.
“Speak for yourself. I will never be a has-been,” Jimin sneered, cutting into his eggs before spouting about how his singles were still reaching number one.
“That’s cause you went pop,” Taehyung argued with a grimace, pretending to throw up into his frittata, just as the waitress came by to ask if they needed anything else.
“That’d be all. Thank you,” Jungkook answered her with a huge smile just to watch her blush, and Namjoon couldn’t help rolling his eyes at the man. Perhaps bringing the chaotic group together was a bad idea. Perhaps bringing them to a high end restaurant where the average diner was a retired businessman was an even worse idea as he tried to make his friends lower their volume, especially Hoseok who was very loudly protesting that his very full schedule of production didn’t have any room for a comeback.
“Guys!” Namjoon snapped, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration. “Just please think it over–”
“It would take so long though. We don’t even have any songs… I haven’t even picked up the guitar in a while,” Seokjin interrupted, the mimosas taking their effect and turning his face a flushed red, as he looked sadly at the tablecloth, and Namjoon couldn’t help feeling a little guilty. He knew the disbandment was his fault. If he had handled things better at home, they wouldn’t have lost their friend to the chaos of the lifestyle, and Moon would still have her mom. Thinking about it lodged a lump in his throat as he tried to console the group with the only solution he could think of.
“I have three albums worth of songs written,” he declared quietly, biting his lip and looking for a reaction, only for Yoongi to speak up.
“I may or may not also have two albums worth.”
“Same,” Hoseok and Jimin spoke at the same time, and Namjoon couldn’t help smiling at how even though everyone had apparently put Dark and Wild behind them, they still couldn’t let go.
“So do you guys think we can do it?” Namjoon asked hopefully, trying not to be dejected by the way Jungkook stared at his hands, deep in thought, fingers tracing the tattoos on his knuckles. The response from the rest of the men was lukewarm as it was in the beginning but somehow now they were all reminiscing too, talking about their glory days. About the time Jimin stripped on a bartop as a dare. About the time Jungkook got so high he thought the television was recording him so he did the most rational thing he could think of and tossed it out of their 40th floor hotel room window. About the time Namjoon ran away so fast from a groupie that he had missed that the glass door wasn’t open and smashed right through it – he still had a scar on his right collarbone from it. Somehow through the road of nostalgia, a little glimmer of excitement started growing, like the embers of a campfire dying out, but needing just the right gust of wind to relight.
“But what if we don’t have the same appeal now… We’re definitely not young anymore,” Seokjin said quietly, as if he was scared to voice out his thoughts, and Namjoon couldn’t help reaching out to him, placing a hand on top of his in a form of encouragement. He had the same fears. A band in their twenties was the norm, in their thirties, on the other hand…
Perhaps they were all being silly. Thirty wasn’t old by any means but the music industry was especially vicious when it came to age. However, Namjoon tried to put the question of their sex appeal to rest as he pulled out the fansite he had stumbled on earlier, sharing the seemingly unlimited ‘thirst’ posts from the blogger, much to the men’s amusement.
“Well I trust this person,” Jungkook said after a thorough scroll, earlier mood seemingly lightened. “I am in fact yummy.”
“And I really am World Wide Handsome,” Seokjin gloated, much to everyone’s annoyance.
“I contacted her,” Namjoon said carefully, hoping he wasn’t about to get a scolding, and when he received only curious looks, he continued. “I’m thinking we can get her opinion. A real Shadow’s opinion. Perhaps she has friends. She could really let us know if the fans are for us or not. Under an NDA, of course!”
“How do you know she won’t just be wishing for us to be back together?” Yoongi sighed, remembering the almost obsessive tendencies his fans had.
“You know that one fan that wrote a whole essay defending our disbandment?” Namjoon asked a bunch of nodding heads. “This is the one.”
“I can’t believe they published someone called yummyjungkookie in the New York Times,” Hoseok laughed, his contagious cackles cracking everyone else up as well, before the laughter petered into silence.
“Let’s see what she says, and then we can decide,” Jungkook ended the conversation decidedly, before the bill came and all seven men started arguing about who was going to pay, no one willing to put their credit card away much to the waitress’s chagrin.
—-------
Off the high of the semi-successful brunch, Namjoon couldn’t sit still in the lawyer’s plush office. He looked around, tapping his feet. It was a nice office, personal yet professional, warm with deep oak furniture and shelves full of law books and fiction alike.
A giant desk took up the northern end, in front of the glass wall that overlooked the city, a big leather chair seemingly belonging to the lawyer in question facing the desk. There were a few posters on the walls, classic movies as well as music festivals. A couch sat in the corner with potted monsteras, magazines scattered on the glass coffee table.
Namjoon felt oddly comfortable, but that might be because he was certain the lawyer used the same candles that littered his home, the soft pinewood scent relaxing him. Eyes roaming to read the titles of the books on the shelf, he couldn’t stop smiling at the little windchime attached to the corner.
People wouldn’t know it at a glance, but if you knew it was unmistakably his band’s merch – limited edition merch at that. He wondered if the lawyer he was meant to meet was a fan, or if they were just so old that they had received it from their children and put it up. Namjoon was pretty proud that the windchime he had designed was given a place in a room where everything seemed to be carefully handpicked.
“Sorry for keeping you waiting, Mr. Kim.”
Namjoon heard the slightly raspy voice call out, and he stood up to greet the person. However, he was a little taken aback when his eyes met yours, his throat running a little dry and his nerves spiking for no reason. Well no reason other than his immediate attraction to you.
It should be illegal for someone to look that good in a simple red suit and a pair of black heels. His eyes traced your features of their own accord, lingering at the little necklace that nestled between your collarbones, and the wisps of your hair that lined your eyebrows.
“Mr. Kim?” you asked, and a furious flush rose up his cheeks as he realised he hadn’t answered. Stuttering a response, he sat down at your insistence, agreeing to a coffee that you rang your assistant for. If you were a fan, you didn’t seem to give it away, jumping right into business as you talked about loopholes in the contract that could get Namjoon off with minimal penance.
While Namjoon was nodding along, pretending not to pay attention to the way your fingers looked so delicate pointing out the different clauses in the document, you were internally screaming. It took everything you had to keep your cool.
You had imagined that it would be business as usual meeting one of the guys you had spent most of your youth following around but your heart had other plans, beating stupidly fast. Even if Namjoon wasn’t your favourite member, it was still Namjoon Kim of Dark and Wild.
You could tell he wasn’t paying attention to whatever you were saying, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were boring him. You tried to lighten up the dry vernacular with a few jokes that went unnoticed, so you tried to shock him into listening at the end of your meeting.
“Ah, now that we’re done. Let’s talk about your proposition,” you commented off handedly, watching as he looked at you with rapt attention, biting his lip. Was he nervous?
The thought made you laugh. Why would he be nervous? You already explained that the case was easy to settle. It was pretty run of the mill. Contrary to popular belief, a lot of songwriters worked to break their contracts after a few months of working with a band. Creative differences were inevitable sometimes.
“Proposition?” Namjoon asked, swallowing hard, scared that his thoughts had somehow been vocalised. Perhaps you could read his mind. That would be a very handy superpower for a lawyer. Wait what if you actually had mind-reading powers?
What if you knew how he had just spent thirty minutes trying to figure out how he could ask you out for dinner, or if he could simply just bend over your desk.
Fuck, he really needed to reel it in.
“Yeah you emailed me about doing an analysis on fan culture?” you answered with a grin, enjoying the reveal. Namjoon had been a rockstar for most of his life, jamming out confidently on stage, so it was extra funny seeing him so clueless. That was before he became flustered, turning a bright red.
“Oh shit? Did I fuck up my emails? I meant to send that to… someone else,” he stumbled, pulling out his phone and scrolling through his emails.
“Yummyjungkookie, right?” you asked, relishing the way his jaw dropped and his eyes widened in disbelief before reaching your hand out, “Nice to meet you.”
“What the fuck…” Namjoon mumbled, taking your hand in his and shaking gingerly, before recovering. “You’re… you’re yummyjungkookie?”
“The one and only,” you grinned.
“But you’re a lawyer…” he said in awe. Never in a million years he would’ve thought the beautiful, polished, somewhat cold woman standing in front of him was the same person who evidently followed him on tour and wrote sonnets about Jungkook’s left bicep. He thought all his fans were kids in inappropriate clothing, but then again the last time he had seen his fans was when he himself was a kid in inappropriate clothing. It made sense that as he grew up, so did his fans – apparently into super intelligent, professional women.
“Yes I am,” you said smugly, loving the way he seemed so shocked. You hadn’t thought to reveal yourself, but your embarrassment over the nickname was taking a backseat to his surprise. It made you somewhat giddy. “So do I need to sign an NDA?”
“Yes. I can mail it to you. One second,” he said, gathering his wits as you giggled at the way he dropped his phone while scrambling for it. Once he had sent the email, you quickly printed two copies, signing after reading over the straight forward terms as he did the same.
You had to control your squeal when he laid out his plans. A comeback? Dark and Wild were actually getting together and needed your help to analyse if they had any fans. You had no idea whether you could actually help him, but just the fact that he had asked you was every Shadow’s dream come true, and you could see your inner nineteen year old jumping up and down in excitement, the banner you had made out of your dorm’s bed sheet waving in the air.
Maybe it was a good thing you were a loser who still blogged about your favourite band.
—-------
Namjoon hummed to himself in the elevator, Moon’s favourite pizza in his hands warming him as he smiled at nothing. Excitement was brimming through his body, uncontained as all his plans seemed to be working out. Generation Swine was taken care of, well pretty much. He trusted you with the case, and he trusted you with convincing the band that they were definitely not has-beens. He couldn’t wait to share the news with his daughter as he entered his apartment, placing the box on the dining room table before making his way to her door.
“I’m fine,” Moon’s voice carried through the door, and Namjoon had to stop himself from barging in when he heard her sniffle. Why was his baby crying? “It’s just that I’m worried about dad… When mom died, he was so broken.”
Namjoon felt his heart drop to his stomach, a lump forming in his throat as he eavesdropped. He hated listening in. Moon was pretty much an adult, she deserved her privacy, but when another voice spoke, dampened by the line of the speakers, he stayed rooted on the spot, vying for some insight into her sudden sadness.
“He’s better now, Moonie,” the voice said.
“I know. I know. But sometimes he still gets sad. He thinks I don’t notice but I do. I joked about smoking some weed the other day and it was like his life flashed before his eyes. He looked like he was going to cry… I just… I get scared of letting him down sometimes,” she sighed.
“You know you’re never going to do drugs. He knows you’re never going to do drugs. You’re not gonna let him down.”
“I know that but… I look like her,” she sniffled, and Namjoon felt his heart break further. Had he really been putting so much pressure on his teenager that he didn’t notice the way she seemed to be feeling so guilty. He was scared of her trying drugs, given her mother’s death, but he never thought that he was making her feel like she couldn’t be like her mother, especially when she continued talking.
“I’m scared that I remind him of her everyday, and that looking at me makes him sad. I just wish he found someone or even if he didn’t, that he went out more. He quit his job and I don’t want him to be depressed again.”
“He’s not sad to look at you, idiot. He’s your dad. He knows you look like your mom. It’ll be dumb if he didn’t!” Moon’s friend exclaimed, and Namjoon relaxed a little at hearing his daughter chuckle in response.
His mental health hadn’t been the greatest since his wife passed away, years full of ups and downs that he tried to hide from his daughter as he worked through therapy. But evidently he hadn’t been too good at hiding that part of himself, and a tear escaped without his consent when he thought about the burden she had been carrying.
He opted not to listen to more, walking to the kitchen to dry his eyes as he set the table. Once he was sure that he had his emotions under control, he called out for dinner, smiling when his daughter walked in after a few minutes in her pterodactyl onesie. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe that she was almost an adult, that she had grown so much. Unable to help himself, he hugged her to his chest, kissing the top of her head repeatedly as she whined about being unable to breathe.
“Ew dad, why are you being so clingy?” she groaned, pushing him away.
“Just missed you today, is all,” Namjoon said, pulling the hood of the onesie over her head, just to annoy her as she sat on the table to eat.
“Gross,” she replied despite the smile on her face as she dug in, thanking him for the pizza. He laughed, telling her about his day as she shared about how she had finally mastered the drums for YYZ, a Rush song she had been learning for a week.
He beamed proudly when she played him the song after dinner, trying his best not to tell her that looking at her could never make him sad. That all he saw was how proud he was that despite his fuckups, she had turned out more than perfect.
—-------
Sitting on your dining table, you stared at the blank document on your screen, the blinking cursor mocking you for your lack of ideas. Sighing, you switched the tab to the google search you had done, littered with journal articles talking about fan culture. Although you had three case files to go over that your paralegal had been hounding you about, you really wanted to create a plan for Namjoon, regardless of your lack of knowledge.
“Working on your boring lawyer stuff?” Hera asked, placing an elaborate gold and ruby necklace around her neck before turning to you in a silent request to clasp it for her. You obliged, standing up from your chair, an idea forming.
“Hey. You have fans for your art,” you commented, grabbing a glass of water as she continued getting ready, lacing her ballerina stilettos. She hummed for you to continue. “How do you manage them? Like check their retention, interact with them, and all?”
“God, you’re such a nerd,” she laughed, opening her purse to pull out a lipstick, dabbing it on her lips with her front view camera as the mirror. “You just put stuff out there, fans will follow. They don’t need interaction or those fancy terms. You just do you, they come.”
You knew for a fact that she was incorrect. Even running your somewhat small anonymous blog you knew that the weeks you didn’t interact with your audience, when you didn’t answer their messages or reply to their comments, your popularity dipped. People liked being seen, especially from those they admire. It boggled your mind how she made money when she was always so blase about everything, coasting through life like nothing required effort.
“Where are you off to, anyways?” you asked, settling back into your chair to skim through the numerous articles you had found.
“Going out with my boyfriend,” she grinned, wiggling her eyebrows as you stared at her in disbelief.
“Wait, you’re dating? Who?” you returned her smile, excited for her to be in a relationship after she had been wanting one for so long. You couldn’t count the number of weekends you had to resort to headphones while she looked for the one between her bedsheets.
She was a hopeless romantic of sorts, thinking that a relationship was the cure to everything, yet she had notoriously high standards. You blamed her obsession with Disney movies for that, but you couldn’t help the way you warmed at the flustered look on her face, biting her lip as she tried to not smile.
“You know him actually,” she said much to your surprise. “But you can’t judge me if I tell you! Promise me!”
Laughing at her sudden pleading, you promised, waiting for her to continue. However, your laugh was short-lived when the name escaped her lips. She was right, you did know him. You knew him very well, had spent years with him, had almost moved in with him before he decided to stomp on your heart.
“Ryan? You’re dating Ryan?!” you couldn’t control your volume, the absurdity of the woman who had dreamt of prince charming settling for someone who didn’t even deserve coal at Christmas.
“You promised you wouldn’t judge,” she argued, standing up with a huff. “He’s changed. He became better for me!”
“Became better for you? What does that even mean? Hera, Ryan’s trash!” It was too hard to even say his name, your brain flooding with memories of how he had laughed at you when you asked him if he was cheating on you. How he had placated you with kisses, assuring you that you were being paranoid, only to be caught a few months later with a girl in your bed.
“Just because he couldn’t love you, doesn’t mean he’s trash!” she yelled back, unaware
how her words cut through you. Not knowing how to respond as she ranted about you being unlovable and how Ryan had told her he found you boring and uptight, you took your leave.
Grabbing your laptop you headed out, willing yourself to not break.
—-------
You didn’t know where you were driving to, running around the city in circles. Usually it calmed you down, to have your music playing so loud that your thoughts couldn’t infiltrate, but today it felt as if they were crashing about, the cacophony drowning the dulcet tunes of Hoseok’s singing.
Instead of clearing, your mind was full of the last memories of your relationship, of how the man you loved would manipulate you, make you feel small in moments where you should’ve felt out of this world. You had confided in Hera, had cried with your head on her lap as she stroked your hair and assured you that he was scum. You had believed her, used her words to slowly build yourself up, to learn to love yourself again.
But now it was Hera throwing the poisonous words that he had embedded in your self-image, ones that took too long to pry out, ones that left scars that you were too terrified to look at even after over a year. You couldn’t help the tears that flowed to the bass playing in the background, overwhelmed yet knowing that you shouldn’t be.
When your eyes got too blurry, you parked next to a random park, taking deep breaths and practising the techniques you had learnt. Hera’s words were just words, they didn’t define you, they didn’t control your emotions.
Only you were responsible for how you saw yourself, and even though you felt like shit right now, it would pass. You were allowed to feel the way you were feeling.
Your deep breathing was interrupted by the ringing of your phone, a name you never thought you’d see lighting up your screen. Clearing your throat, you schooled your voice to resemble normal before picking up.
“Hello?”
“Hey. Sorry this is random, but I had a few ideas. Do you mind meeting up?” Namjoon’s voice broke through your thoughts and you sighed a little, finding comfort in his dulcet baritone. It was a different tone than the one he used for meetings or the one you had heard in interviews, and somehow it felt familiar. Blaming the feeling on your rattled emotions, you agreed to his request, fixing your face to drive to his studio.
Walking into the large skyscraper you were surprised that the security at the front already had your information, providing you with a temporary employee card rather than a run of the mill visitor pass.
With your sour mood, you really hoped helping Namjoon with his project wasn’t about to turn into a part time job. As dedicated as you were to being a Shadow, your days were often long and exhausting, and carving time for another thing just seemed like too much at the moment. Perhaps he would notice how stupidly incapable you were for the task and request an actual marketing firm to do the research for him.
Visiting his studio, however, was a dream come true. You had always loved the music he created for Dark and Wild, and immensely enjoyed the livestreams he would do describing his process after each album. It was always interesting to hear how much actually went into creating a seemingly simple track, how much he thought through his lyrics, how different the finished product sounded from the acoustic demos he showcased.
Much like the personality you had come to learn about in your time as a fan, his studio was a utopia of calm, plants scattered about, thriving even in a seemingly dark room. A glass separated the recording booth from the main area, which housed multiple cream couches decorated with colourful cushions, some even with the band on them.
On the walls were their records, different colours signifying which had gone platinum – most of them. There was a large monitor attached to the glass wall of the recording booth, a large gaming chair facing it on which sat Namjoon, fiddling with the mouse. The large screen embarrassingly enough had your blog on it as the man in question scrolled, laughing at your somewhat unhinged comments.
“Please stop stalking my blog,” you deadpanned and he turned the chair to face you with a large smile on his face.
“Only fair. You stalked me all these years,” he teased, loving the way your face scrunched in disbelief. He liked how you looked today, probably more than how he found you at the meeting. Dressed in a matching pink sweat suit, you somehow looked a little softer, and definitely less intimidating than the woman spouting the Federal Reclamation Law off the top of her head. It made him glad he had gathered the courage to ask you for a meeting.
“And it got you more famous. Your point?” you replied, ignoring the heat that was creeping up your back. You really should’ve gone through your blog and parsed through all the very horny comments you had left on their photos, but then again they should take it as a compliment. You were only appreciating them!
“My point is,” Namjoon began, leaning on his elbows as he gestured for you to sit on the couch in front of him, “You’re talented at getting people hyped up. And I want to make all the other blogs I found get active again. I have a list!”
His proclamation was followed by an actual list he had compiled that he handed to you, and being in the fandom for so long, you knew almost all of the fifteen names, some of them even personally. It may have seemed that the Shadow fandom was massive, but when it came to bigger blogs, it was actually pretty small, all of you constantly running into each other at events at some point of your fan careers.
“Well, six of these are moms now and they don’t even have time to breathe, let alone continue following you guys. I don’t know about these four, but Sera is in prison,” you said.
“Prison?! For stalking?” he asked, genuinely taken aback, and you just chuckled.
“No… for embezzlement. Turns out, she liked taking money more than pictures of you,” you quipped, laughing at his response.
“But she was so into me,” he scowled.
“Sucks to suck,” you responded as he scoffed, turning his attention back to his computer as he started to strategize different marketing tactics, some of which went over your head, especially when he started to talk about TikTok.
Perhaps Hera’s news had really exhausted you or perhaps it was the fact that marketing was never your forte, but you found yourself zoning out of the conversation, hoping Namjoon didn’t notice that you looked like a mess when you entered his office. He hadn’t acted like he noticed, but you were sure that your eyes were still a little red-rimmed, and that your face was puffy from crying in your car. You hadn’t realised how quiet you had gotten till his voice cut through your thoughts.
“Hey, you okay?” he asked softly, pausing his rant.
“Yeah. Sorry, just a little out of it today,” you replied with a smile, trying not to be affected by how concerned he seemed. Even after spending such a short amount of time with him, you had started wondering why he was your least favourite member, maybe you really did view your Shadow life through a very distorted, horny lens.
“You know what always makes me feel better? Chocolate!” he suggested with a grin, opening a drawer to pull out a giant bar of some Swiss chocolate and presenting it to you with a flourish. The gesture made you laugh harder than you anticipated, the random move making you wheeze. He joined you, unwrapping the chocolate to break off a piece for you, the gesture endearing you to no end.
“Ah! So this is why you never had abs,” you joked, giggling as he groaned.
“I had a kid to take care of! And… okay you’re under NDA so I can tell you,” he whispered, leaning in, and your curiosity peaked as he came closer. “Those teething biscuits are fucking delicious! Dude, those are like crack!”
The absurdity of the statement had you cackling once again, and you couldn’t help appreciating the effort he was putting into cheering you up, even when he didn’t know what was wrong. And perhaps it was the recent rehashing of your past, but you felt your heart warm, your grin matching his.
Unknown to you, Namjoon’s heart warmed too, just by hearing your laugh.
—-------
Somehow after the night in the studio, texting and hanging out with Namjoon became the norm. At least twice a week, you’d visit the little sanctuary he had created, spouting wild plans for twenty minutes before falling into a tangent that took over the conversation, trailing it to random topics that always distracted you till both of you were enjoying take out. For someone who had spent his whole life in the limelight, Namjoon was oddly normal.
Sure he had his moments like when he accidentally broke his extremely expensive watch because he was flailing animatedly while describing how he had once found a boy in his daughter’s room. But for the most part, he was down to earth, his stories mundane, nothing like the rockstar you had imagined.
However, what was exactly the same as the rockstar of your blog, was how attractive he was, especially in the suit he was wearing for today’s meeting. Sitting next to you on the couch, his glasses were low on his nose as he scoured through the research you had collected about building fan culture. The scowl on his face complimented him, and it reminded you of how he looked when he was busy slapping the bass when he performed, lip stuck between his teeth as he bobbed his head to the beat of the music playing through the speakers.
After almost three weeks of strategizing, despite you promising yourself this project wouldn’t take all your time, Namjoon had indeed hired a marketing firm, taking the insights the two of you found during your hangouts to them while you were at work. They had done an analysis and found that Shadows had indeed not died down, and that Moon was correct in her assumption that because of their songs going viral on social media, there was a steady growth of new fans, their old videos getting more and more comments. The news made you giddy, and it was getting difficult to hide how excited you were about the potential comeback.
“Wow… this is actually really great,” Namjoon praised you and you couldn’t help beaming at his words as he continued, “Are you sure you’re not a marketer? This is so so good!”
“Shut up. I just googled stuff,” you countered, getting a little flustered at his smile. He always seemed to be complimenting you during these meetings and you were sure your head was going to explode with how big it was getting.
“Oh speaking of google, did you know that it saves everything you search?” he asked, eyes widening in the shocking revelation he had seemingly made and you giggled at him.
“Yes, Grandpa. That’s how they make their money,” you teased, your early conversation getting steamrolled once again as you explained to him how the conglomerate actually used that data to make personalised ads.
“Wait… so like they can use my porn preferences to sell me stuff?” he exasperated, before realising what he had blurted out, a blush taking over his features. He really didn’t know how to control his tongue around you, somehow you brought out his no-filter self, something that only happened around those he was closest to. Maybe it was that you seemed to know him from his younger days, and that he had read all your unfiltered thoughts that you unapologetically owned up to, but he felt close to you despite only knowing you for merely weeks. It was weird. It was terrifying. It was exciting.
“Why are you googling porn?” you grimaced, cringing at just how bad he was at technology. Did spending so much time on his passion really make him this clueless?
“It has a video option!” he defended, ignoring how stupid he sounded even to his own ears, but then again what he said was even stupider. “What do you use?”
“Your music,” you deadpanned, immensely enjoying the way he turned into a tomato, sputtering in disbelief till you reassured him that you used a porn site like a normal human. However, Namjoon couldn’t help being stuck on the thought that maybe there was some truth to your words, and that alone had his heart beating and his lip twisting into a smirk.
“Oh yeah? What song?” he teased, an elbow meeting your shoulder as he snickered.
“Bicycle,” you said, smiling at the way he cringed in response.
“I wrote that song for my daughter, you heathen!” he exclaimed, gagging in response and all you could do was cackle, dissolving into breathless laughs as you leaned back on the couch. You missed the way he smiled at you, mirroring your position next to you, waiting for you to calm down.
“You’re a great songwriter,” you complimented once you had caught your breath, wiping the tears from your eyes. You regretted the sudden compliment that had escaped your lips, but the feeling was short lived because you got to witness the elusive shy Namjoon, smiling widely and shaking his bowed head as he brought his hands to between his legs, shoulders rising and a soft blush adorning his face. It made your heart flutter a little, making you avert your gaze.
That night the two of you barely got anything done, only deciding to create a presentation to convince the band. Namjoon insisted on having a special section chronicling Dark and Wild’s journey through your eyes. It was wholly unnecessary but he strong armed you with endless compliments and an offer to never get pineapple on the pizzas the two of you inevitably ended up ordering.
You never thought you would end up becoming friends with someone you used to follow around on tour, but somehow with all your meetings, it seemed that it was not only a possibility but a reality.
—-------
You found it odd when Namjoon changed up the routine one day, inviting you to his apartment instead of the studio, but you supposed that’s what friends did. So you had showed up with a bottle of wine and his favourite gummy bears, a decidedly small gesture but the way he squealed excitedly like a little kid at the candy had you giddy.
However, you learnt that somehow, this meeting wasn’t one for your flimsy professional reasons, but for just hanging out. You didn’t know why you were so surprised that he wanted to just enjoy your company, the two of you had developed a friendship but with the only close friendship you had with Hera still hanging on by a thread, you were a little skeptical.
“So how’ve you been?” Namjoon asked after he had set up a movie on the screen and popped some popcorn. His easy comfort made you worried, making you build up walls, refusing to share anything personal, and instead opting to discuss work and how his case was going.
Apparently, Generation Swine hated him and wanted to do everything but settle, desperate to keep the six songs he had written for them with full creative control over them. It was a preposterous ask, and you told him as such. You were determined to ensure that all his copyright would be given to him with as little payment from him as possible.
“They can keep them,” he said, speaking after a long silence. “I’ve made my peace with it. Just get them to take my name off.” You argued but Namjoon had made his decision. He knew that having his name on that album would just taint his reputation. He didn’t want to be associated with such scumbags who clearly respected no one, often not even themselves. And if he was being completely honest, he had just grown tired of the months long back and forth. If they wanted his music so bad, they could have it. He would be lying if he said writing songs came easy to him, but it just wasn’t worth it. Not when he knew they would water down his works to something unrecognisable. He just wanted to focus on making new stuff with his band mates, and moving on. Something he wished he could do with you by his side, not that he would ever admit it out loud.
The movie was some Japanese flick about a band working to achieve their dreams and everything that came with the industry, and when it ended you were left in charge of the remote. To break the odd tension that had risen after the silent resignation about Namjoon giving up his case, you decided to put on a documentary about Dark and Wild.
It worked, getting Namjoon distracted with nostalgia as he told you the background of all the scenes. Like how the footage of him ripping the wallpaper off the wall in a hotel was wrongly portrayed.In reality he had somehow managed to get his hand stuck in an already existing tear and couldn’t get it out. A few months ago you would have rolled your eyes and called him a liar, but after knowing him, you knew he was telling the truth. You had never met anyone with a bigger propensity for disaster than Namjoon. It was a wonder he was still alive with how clumsy he was. You told him so with a slap on his thigh and he just laughed along.
You had started the evening at different ends of his large couch, but somehow as he regaled you with more stories, you had moved closer, sitting side by side, sharing the popcorn on your lap and the gummies on his. It scared you how comfortable you felt with him, how he made you forget about everything, how he made you laugh so hard your stomach hurt. When he left to go pick up the food you had ordered from the restaurant next door, you realised that perhaps you wanted more of that comfort. You wanted to spend evenings just watching movies and making fun of him. You wanted to hear his stories, learn more about his life, and for the first time in a long while maybe you wanted to share your stories too.
Smiling at the thought, you scrolled through Youtube on the television, watching his old music videos, in awe of how much he had changed from the scrawny kid trying hard to seem tough to the dorky heartthrob he was now. You had always felt close to the band, related to them. That’s what made you a fan but somehow knowing the real him, made you feel nervous. There was no screen to hide behind, no image in your brain to project your fantasies on, because Namjoon was no longer just an abstract figment of your imagination, he was real.
“Oh… umm… hello,” a voice broke you out of your thoughts and you looked up to see a teenage girl standing in the living room, dressed much like you used to as a kid. Wearing black ripped jeans and a loose yellow flannel shirt, she seemed like a typical emo kid, her image solidified by the multiple piercings on her ears and chunky silver jewellery on her neck and wrists. She had dark hair that was tied in a half ponytail behind her head, and her dimples matched those on Namjoon’s face. You had seen her millions of times as a toddler, often dressed in fluffy pink dresses with giant yellow noise-cancelling earphones as she watched her father perform, and you felt oddly proud to see her all grown up.
“Hi! I’m a friend of your dad’s,” you said, moving the empty bowl from beside you invitingly, feeling a little awkward. Somehow you felt nervous as if you should’ve asked him if it was okay to talk to her before you did, every fibre of you wishing to make a good first impression.
“Oh, friend, you say?” she asked, narrowing her eyes with a grin that deepened her dimples. Dropping her bag at the end of the couch, she sat next to you, folding her hands in her lap confidently as she looked at the screen. You felt yourself flush with embarrassment as you followed her gaze to the obscenely large television where the music video was paused with the image of Hoseok mid thrust. You really should’ve paid more attention to which frame you stopped at.
Watching your horrified expression, she laughed, clapping her hands. “Don’t worry! That’s my favourite video too!”
Her laugh was a little weird, hiccuping between cackles, but it was extremely contagious, coaxing you to chuckle and breaking the ice. Most would think that the daughter of a renowned rock star would be spoiled, a little entitled, but Moon was anything but that, amicably finding topics to connect with you, cracking jokes at the expense of her uncles. Her humour reminded you of her father, goofy and light hearted. It was no wonder that soon the topic turned to him.
“Have you seen this video?” she asked excitedly, searching through her phone before casting her Youtube to the screen, playing a video of Namjoon from an old Dark and Wild vlog. The band had relegated him to cooking for them, the six of them sitting in chairs in front of him as he tried to cut vegetables. He had his lower lip between his teeth as he cut an onion in half and then proceeded to lay it on the round end, gingerly moving the knife and being unsuccessful almost every time while his friends laughed.
You had watched the video before. Of course, you had. It was a classic in the Shadow fandom, one that was memed again and again, but you couldn’t help wincing all the same, knowing full well that he wouldn’t hurt himself but worried all the same.
“Oh my god, dad! Flip the onion over!” Moon laughed at the screen before turning to you. “He hasn’t cooked for you, has he?”
“Oh god, no!” you replied automatically before biting your tongue, but Moon just chuckled along, fully aware of her father’s lack of culinary skills. Video Namjoon moved on to a carrot, struggling even more if that was possible and you couldn’t help joining along with Moon’s commentary.
“Watch your fingers,” you yelled at the screen just as he slightly nicked himself, hissing in pain, sheepishly pouting at the camera. When you had first watched the video, you were endeared by his antics, but now it felt as if your heart was bursting, making you almost coo at his younger self.
“I’m so glad I saved up my pocket money to buy him a food processor,” Moon commented, still giggling at the video. “Did you know he refused to buy me take out and then would accidentally cut himself like eight times a week?”
You could imagine Namjoon being stubborn as his daughter complained while he chopped vegetables in uneven slices, fingers covered in little bandaids. It wasn’t hard to notice how dedicated a father Namjoon was, but it warmed your heart to hear how much he cared for Moon from her directly.
You could tell by her tone that even though she masked it under humour and inconvenience, she truly admired her father for all the effort he put in, and somehow the picture in your head morphed till you were laughing at him alongside her, pushing him aside to take over the chopping as he leaned sheepishly by the counter complaining and insisting he had it handled.
In your imagination, he wrapped himself behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder, annoying you while you worked as Moon teased the two of you for being dorks. You startled at the image, not knowing why your brain had decided to drift that way, heart beating oddly, and eyes blinking to rid yourself of it.
As if on cue, Namjoon entered the room, precariously balancing boxes of pasta and dessert on two plates, a bottle of wine tucked under his elbow, and for the first time since you had met him, you felt starstruck. In awe of how tightly he was holding the cutlery in one hand but how lightly he was holding the plates, swaying from side to side to ensure none of the four unevenly stacked boxes tipped over. You felt frozen, a blush slowly creeping up your cheeks before leaping into action after a little “help!” escaped his lips.
Reaching for the bottle, you took it in your hands just as Moon grabbed the boxes, leaving Namjoon with just the plates and the cutlery. He still managed to drop a fork on the ground, cursing at himself before his daughter picked it up and went to replace it from the kitchen.
“Grab yourself a plate too, Moonie,” Namjoon offered, sitting next to you and oblivious to your sudden crush, casually plating a bit of everything for you. You realised he did that alot. Always making sure that you were served before him, that you were given the first piece of any snacks you both shared, and always asking if you were comfortable.
How did a passing comment from his daughter have such a profound impact on you? You felt like one of those girls who wrote fanfiction, your imagination going wild with scenarios when he had only just been kind. Perhaps you needed to follow Hera’s misguided advice and get laid after all.
“Nah, I have homework,” Moon replied, placing the fork on the table before smirking at the two of you. “Enjoy your date,” she snickered before prancing out of the room.
“It’s not a date!” Namjoon called out after her, bringing your overactive imagination to a screeching halt, forcing you to chuckle with him and dig into the food, missing how brightly his cheeks were shining at his daughter’s offhand comment.
You were still not speaking to Hera, but maybe you should strike a truce with her. If only so you could go with her to a club and no longer give yourself false allusions of being with a famous rockstar.
—-------
“Thanks for coming guys. I know you’re all busy but I just wanted to–”
“Oh my god. Stop giving a speech! Show us!” Seokjin interrupted Namjoon, bouncing on his seat on the couch, making Yoongi groan as he invaded his space. Although Namjoon’s studio was spacious, it was crammed for seven people, Hoseok and Taehyung sat squished next to Yoongi and Seokjin with Jimin perched on the armrest, wincing as Jungkook sat on his lap. Namjoon shook his head at his friend, appreciating the encouragement but still nervous.
He hadn’t showcased a song to the whole band for a long time and even though he knew that they were always supportive, he still felt a little uneasy. The new songs were different from the ones he used to write for Dark and Wild – while the former were debaucherous and often horny, his new stuff was something that held more of him, bared him with a vulnerability his younger self used to hide behind bravado. Not to mention that all he had was a guitar and his notebook, nothing like the demos he used to show them before, usually filled with samples of instruments manufactured from the mixer in his computer.
When Hoseok asked everyone to be quiet, Namjoon took a grounding breath, starting to pluck the strings slowly, building a melody that had haunted him for weeks. The acoustic version wasn’t how he heard it in his head, but he hoped it was enough to inspire his friends to imagine how easily they would fill in the gaps. He picked the strings individually, separating the chords so that they could speak to the emotions he was aiming for.
Soft strings echoed through the space, slow and resounding, and he cleared his throat before closing his eyes and singing. He always hated how he sounded but somehow in that moment he lost himself to the melancholy, letting it guide his vocals.
Maybe cherries are blossoming
And winter is going to be over
I miss you (I miss you)
I miss you (I miss you)
Wait a little bit, just a few more nights
I’ll be there to see you (I'll go there to meet you)
I’ll come for you (I'll come for you)
Pass the end of winter's cold
Until the spring day comes again
Until the flowers bloom again
Please stay, please stay there a little longer
The room was silent when he opened his eyes, six pairs of eyes staring at him. They had all leaned forward, Jungkook now sitting on the floor, legs crossed below him as his head rested on his hands. There were no words and Namjoon felt himself getting nervous as Yoongi spoke.
“Holy fuck…” he whispered, and Namjoon jumped straight into defense.
“I know my voice sounded terrible. You guys know i can’t sing, but I was just thinking, if we added some drums and then Seokjin you added some of the melody or maybe Jimin with a solo in the middle with Yoongi’s production… it could be… umm… something?” he rambled, scratching the back of his neck.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” Taehyung asked, his voice deep and serious, and Namjoon felt himself deflate a little, shoulders slumping before the next words left Taehyung’s mouth, “This is fucking incredible.”
It seemed that his words broke everyone out of their trance, praise flowing through the room as they excitedly left the mixing part of the studio to join Namjoon on the recording side, picking up their designated instruments.
“This is 4/4 as usual right?” Jungkook asked, taking a seat at the drums, rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck before twirling the sticks between his fingers.
“And what’s the key again?” Seokjin questioned, plugging his guitar into the amp, taking a determined stance as he smiled warmly at Namjoon and Namjoon couldn’t help mirroring his expression, his cheeks splitting with how wide his lips stretched.
“E-flat,” he replied, discarding the acoustic guitar to the side to pick up his bass, setting the dials to the sound he prepared, the pitch a higher than usual for a bass.
Soon the song transformed from an empty plea to a celebration of friendship, the instruments gelling together in a sound that went from mournful to inspiring. It somehow changed the message of the song from longing and waiting to reuniting. It was as if the melody was meant to be tweaked, his friends adding in their flair that changed how Namjoon had always heard the song in his head into one he could never fathom.
By the time Hoseok and Jimin finished singing, with Seokjin and Taehyung harmonising at the chorus, Namjoon couldn’t help choking up a little. It was as if he was transported back in time, back before he knew what it was like to lose his dream – to the time when he didn’t even know what loss was. He felt irrevocably happy and his eyes glistened as the last chord echoed into silence.
“Fuck I missed this,” Hoseok gleed into the microphone, jumping a little in excitement and the band joined in on the sentiment, their voice a cacophony of chaos as they all complimented each other and Namjoon for writing what they perceived as a hit. Soon, everyone was pulling out unfinished works, some scribbled in notebooks, others in their phones, one even on a napkin – Taehyung had a moment of inspiration in a Jazz club three months ago.
It was as if the previous years had been erased, their usual teamwork gelling into place like muscle memory, ideas flying and morphing into melodies that were lighthearted and poetry that struck a chord. Namjoon knew they were still wary about a comeback, but just seeing the joy on their faces as they brainstormed song after song, convinced him it wouldn’t be too hard to put their worries to rest.
Something told him this wouldn’t be the last time they jammed together.
—-------
It had been a few weeks since you had talked to Hera properly. Conversations that used to last hours were subdued to passing remarks about groceries and chores. She stayed out most of the time, giving you space. Sitting on your living room couch with ramen on a Saturday night, things were dull, your mind wandering on your relationship with her.
They say absence makes the heart grow stronger, but it didn’t seem to be the case for you. The more she stayed away, the more you had time to dwell on how your friendship had faded over time, how she had gone from a confidant to someone you tolerated. It made you feel a little guilty, but everytime that guilt would be overshadowed by how it seemed that you were always putting in more effort, from housing her during her financial crisis to not thinking twice about any favour she asked of you.
It wasn’t always bad, you remembered her getting you out of your introverted shell in law school, challenging you to strike a balance between coursework and hobbies. But in the past two years, you couldn’t recall a single time she had even mildly inconvenienced herself on your behalf. She was often passive-aggressive, seemingly exasperated at you. Perhaps it made sense if she was talking to Ryan during that time, his manipulative nature probably influenced her. But if she was so easily swayed was she truly your friend?
As if she was honed into you trying to let her go, she waltzed in through the front door, a huge grin on her face and smelling of alcohol. Squealing your name she startled you with a hug, her arms wrapping tight around you. It felt suffocating, unnerving.
“I miss you,” she sniffled, and usually her crying would be enough for you to forgive her, but you knew she was an emotional drunk. You sat in silence, letting her cry into your shoulder, not knowing how to react when the last words she said to you were accusations of how you had forced your ex to cheat. You didn’t know why you were being so harsh, but maybe it was because you had started to watch the Dark and Wild vlogs again, envying their friendships, comparing it to how the two of you interacted.
You patted her on the shoulder, waiting for her to sit up, and when she did you smiled, not knowing what else to do but tell her it was okay. As soon as the words left your mouth she was perking up, tears forgotten and drunken ramblings commencing. She talked to you about her night, about how Ryan was the perfect man, and you couldn’t get over the bitterness you felt. Was she trying to show off how much of a better boyfriend he was to her than you?
A ping from your phone saved you from the conversation, your face lighting up when you read Namjoon’s text.
So what do you say to a private concert? Wanna meet me at the studio in half an hour?
You couldn’t control the giddy smile as you responded, thanking him in your head for saving you from this awkward conversation. Hera didn’t like it when you excused yourself, complaining about how you didn’t like her anymore. She wasn’t wrong, but you were too excited to leave to fight her on it, apologising and rushing to your room to change, ignoring the pout she threw your way.
When you knocked on the studio door you were expecting only Namjoon to be there wanting to share some of the newer songs he had alluded to working on. However, when you entered you were met by the whole band, seven men sprawled on the couch, the coffee table cluttered with an array of snacks. They stood up at your arrival, greeting you excitedly in a mismatched unison, Jungkook’s voice the loudest among the crowd.
“Yummyjungkookie!” he exclaimed, the wink he tossed your way making you flush. You never imagined your teenage celebrity crush to ever greet you, let alone scream your embarrassing username at you. It made you wish that you had been a little more subtle when choosing it.
“Guys you are overwhelming her,” Jimin chided the men, moving away from the group to hold out his hand. “Hi Y/N. It’s nice to finally meet you!”
“Finally?” you questioned, grasping his hand in yours, a little dizzy at the sudden appearance of people you had only seen on stage or in magazines. You should’ve been used to it after spending time with Namjoon for so long but Jimin was right, it was overwhelming to see them all in one place once again.
“Yeah Joonie’s told us all about you,” Hoseok smirked, side-eyeing his friend who glared at him.
“He couldn’t shut up about you,” Seokjin added with a mischievous sing-song lilt to his voice, elbowing Namjoon who cleared his throat loudly before speaking.
“Okay!” he exclaimed loudly, clapping his hands together once. “Now that everyone is acquainted–”
“Oh I’m not acquainted,” Jungkook interrupted, moving towards you with a teasing smile, pushing his hair away from his face. It reminded you of his stage persona, his already sexy allure hammed up with fan service and it took every ounce of control you had to not swoon. The reaction had been engraved in you for years, after all. “So am I as yummy as you thought?” he asked, flexing his biceps.
Luckily you didn’t have to answer because as soon as the words left his mouth, Jimin scowled, smacking him atop his head. “You have a wife and kids!” he scolded.
“Aw hyung! I’m just trying to figure out if I’m rusty,” Jungkook whined, the earlier suavity melting instantly as he pouted, making you giggle at the sudden change. That was the Jungkook you were a fan of. Sure the sex appeal was appealing but you’d be lying if you said the real thing that gravitated you towards him was how dorky he was.
As all of them started arguing and teasing Jungkook for being a “rusty old man”, you started realising that they all were, in fact, dorks. It comforted you, helped you bring them off the pedestal you had placed them on and back to how they were just how you hoped they’d be – just a group of normal friends.
With everyone settled and introduced, and your pick of dinner ordered, Namjoon made you sit in the large comfy chair in front of the glass separating the recording studio and the mixing room. The band settled in the other room, picking up their instruments and making last minute tune ups.
“Okay. Someone told us a busy lawyer had been spending her precious free time to help us with our stupid hang ups, so we thought that we’d show our appreciation,” Hoseok announced, adjusting the mic stand. “For our favourite Shadow, after eight years, we are Dark and Wild!”
His introduction was immediately followed by Jungkook banging his sticks with each other, counting into the first song, and you were immediately transported to the time when you fought to be in the front row. They started with War of Hormones, Hoseok and Taehyung’s more mature voices and Seokjin’s new ad libs, changing the song into something fresher, something you thought you would never get to see live again. Before you knew it, you were standing from your chair, rocking along to the music as you grinned.
Namjoon watched you as he performed and he couldn’t help the giddiness he felt at seeing you so into something. You were often stoic, having a tight lid on your emotions. It made him want to work harder to get you to open up, often cracking jokes he knew were terrible to get you to laugh. If he knew he would get to see this expression on your face by just convincing the boys to put on a show for you, he would’ve begged them earlier.
He didn’t know when he had started seeing you as someone he wanted to pursue. The feeling was foreign. He never thought he would feel this way again, the bubbling anticipation for when he would see you next, the giddy joy when he saw your name light up his screen, the heart stuttering nervousness when you were near. He had assumed that those feelings had died in his youth, buried with Seo on that rainy day that tore his heart out.
He had tried to move on after her, had multiple one night stands, friends with benefits, even a girlfriend at some point. After a while he had figured that he would never feel that euphoria again, but somehow you had come in with your business formal skirts and secret thirsty blog and embedded yourself in his thoughts. And with it came the need to hold himself back, his once bulletproof confidence wavering to insecurities that he never felt before.
You never shared much of your personal life with him, never deviated from the strict line of friendship that had cemented itself between you, and Namjoon didn’t know how to break that. Every time he flirted, it seemed like a joke to you. Perhaps he was a joke too, a washed up musician with a grown child, who only met you because he was fighting with children and pathetically trying to convince people who had moved on to move backwards with him.
He didn’t realise that his gaze was unwavering as he stared at you through the glass, fingers moving over the strings automatically as Hoseok sang their old hits, but you noticed. Between your jumping, you saw how all of a sudden, his face had fallen, his jaw tightening as he zoned out like he did sometimes when you were hanging out. You didn’t know what he was thinking in those moments, but something told you it wasn’t pleasant.
His mood didn’t lift during the rest of the set, even when you tried to engage him with a smile and a wave. He returned your smile briefly before going back to the same forlorn expression that you couldn’t help being worried about.
“Thank you! You’ve been a great audience,” Yoongi said cheekily, winking at you after the last song before he was ushering everyone into the other room with you. He pulled up two stools, switching his pedals around and taking a seat while offering the other to Namjoon.
“For our last song, we wanted to show you a new one. One written by none other than Namjoon Kim,” Yoongi announced, plucking the strings as his foot toyed with the pedal, changing the tone to a fuzzier one that was overlaid with a delay, adding an ethereal ambience to the sound. Behind you the boys piled onto the couch, cheering loudly and you followed suit, clapping loudly as Namjoon adjusted the height of the mic and sat down.
He smiled at you sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “This isn’t one of the happy ones, sorry,” he said, clearing his throat as Yoongi looped a sound and started plucking the strings with a melancholic tune. “Also sorry my singing sucks,” he chuckled dryly.
“No, it doesn’t!” Seokjin argued loudly as everyone whooped.
“Go Joon!” Jungkook joined, and somehow the encouragement paired with the soft smile you sent his way made his nerves dissolve, letting him sing the song he had written years ago for the first time. It wasn’t just a surprise for you, it was for the rest of the band too. No one but Yoongi had heard it before. Initially, Yoongi had told him to showcase the song, but after trying to sidetrack him with other songs and getting the idea to invite you, Yoongi had had enough, instructing that he sing the song at the end for everyone.
It was silent while he sang, his friends behind the glass listening intently. He hadn’t sung this song properly in a long while. When he wrote it, he was in the deepest pit of his depression, often leaving Moon at his mother’s house to spend the night wasted writing rubbish on pages and then ripping them out when the words didn’t pass his harsh self-criticism.
Yoongi had found him on such a night, curled up on the floor, humming the melody as he banged his fist against the floor, fighting against his sore eyes. Of all the members, Yoongi wasn’t one he was closest to then, but it changed when instead of telling him it would be okay and coaxing him to bed, Yoongi had sternly told him to sit up and finish the song. He stayed with Namjoon the whole night and then for three nights after, subtly ensuring that he didn’t overdo his drinking, or turn to something stronger, as his self loathing crawled into the cathartic poetry dancing on top of Yoongi’s catchy rift.
Somehow writing that song had made him feel a little less sad, as if he had let go of the sorrow by transforming it into something productive. But singing the song he hadn’t even attempted to hear for so long, it was inevitable that he was transported back to that time where he was always in such a haze that the days seemed like an endless burden tied to his ankle as he sank, flailing to swim to the surface that kept moving more and more out of reach. It made him choke a little on his words.
One morning, I opened my eyes
And wished I was dead
I want someone to kill meIn this loud silence
I live to understand the world
But the world has never understood me, why
No, that half is missing
It's trying to hurt me
I miss me, miss me baby
I wish me, I wish me baby
Wish I could choose me
You pursed your lips as his words reached you, feeling an undeniably need to soothe the pain that seemed to be dripping from his every pore. Namjoon had always been open, always made you laugh, unknowingly brightening your mood when work or problems with Hera refused to let you relax. He had talked about his daughter and wanting to get the band together. He had talked to you about his songwriting process, and he had told you his thoughts about the industry. But in that moment, you felt that Namjoon wasn’t always as open as he seemed to be, that beneath his usually cheerful demeanour, he seemed to be suffering, silently at that.
Why is it that I'm being so earnest
Yet it's not working out
Always
Always (I lost my all ways)
He sang the last line abruptly, standing up as soon as he was done and excusing himself. You watched as he left the studio, yearning to run after him, but then again, all his best friends were in the room. Why would he need your comfort when he could have them?
“Go. He’s probably in the next room,” Yoongi said, walking back into the mixing room and placing a hand on your shoulder to break you out of your trance. When you looked at him with doubt, he just smiled, slightly nodding towards the door. Not wanting to overthink the reasons and too worried about Namjoon, you followed his advice, leaving and knocking on the next door.
“I’m fine, Yoons,” Namjoon called out, his voice eerily cheerful, making you suspicious. He opened the door, shock momentarily washing over him before he affixed a smile on his face. But you had learnt what his real smile looked like in the months you had gotten to know him. You didn’t miss how it didn’t reach his eyes, how his lighter right dimple never poked through his cheek, and how his lower lip quivered ever so slightly.
Before you knew what you were doing, you had your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down into a hug. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it, instantaneously wrapping his arms around your waist, crushing you to him. Your scent overwhelmed him, an amalgam of lavender and honey that he had only ever gotten faint whiffs of now crowding his senses, coaxing him to lose the control he had tried so hard to keep over the last few minutes.
“Sorry,” he apologized, trying to clear the lump from his throat, loosening his grip, attempting to chuckle despite his heart beating erratic and his emotions threatening to overflow. “So embarrassing…”
“I’m not judging,” you whispered, holding on to him tightly. “You can cry if you want to. It’s okay.”
The moment the words left your lips, Namjoon couldn’t hold it in anymore, your permission somehow breaking his barriers and a tiny sob escaping him. He buried his face in your neck, his tears probably ruining your blouse. You could feel him shaking in your arms, and you stroked his scalp to comfort him, letting him cling onto you as he cried. You tried to control your own tears, but they followed anyways, silently tracking down your cheeks in empathetic trails. You didn’t know what to say to console him so you let him cry till he was straightening up, rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater.
He settled on the couch at the corner of the room, and you followed, looking around. The small room was some sort of a meeting area. Two large couches lined the walls in an L with a coffee table between them, the walls covered in a few paintings, and a single lamp in the corner lighting up the space. It was cosy.
“Sorry,” he laughed hollowly, and you reached out to hold his hand in an attempt to comfort him, hoping that he realised he had nothing to apologise for, nothing to explain. But he explained anyways, talking about how when he wrote the song he was in the deepest despair he had ever felt and somehow till today he had forgotten how he had felt, how broken he had been.
“We never showed it on the cameras, you know? How fucked up everything was,” he said, fingers gripping tightly onto yours, needing something to ground him as his memories flashed before his eyes.
Everything was always glamourized in front of the camera; their friendships, his relationship. All everyone knew was they were a little chaotic, a bunch of hyper dudes who would get drunk and joke around. They didn’t know that alcohol wasn’t the only vice they used to cope with the sudden plummet to fame, to cope with the stresses of releasing album after album of hits, of endless days of putting on personas that merged into a haze till they forgot who they really were.
It was okay when he took his first hit, it was meant to relax him, all the ones in the industry before him assured him that it wouldn’t turn into anything more. So the band would gather in their hotel rooms after some shows when the pressure felt like it would rip them to shreds and shoot up. It would let them slow down, float in a space where their brains weren’t capable of thinking, of overthinking everything.
That’s when Seo started joining him too, when they were just friends with benefits, before the birth control had failed, back when he was just a kid trying to emulate his heroes. He didn’t know how it would spiral, how his one off would become her everyday. He still blamed himself to this day for being too busy to notice the way her light faded, to notice how her mood swings were too drastic. He never saw her enough to put it together, not until he was getting a call from her mother blaming him angrily, screaming at him for ruining her life.
He broke down for the first time that night, apologising to Seo’s mother, and sobbing into his cellphone. That was also the last time he turned off his brain, before taking a week off to care for her. He sat in the hospital holding her hand while she slept with ventilators, just praying to a god he didn’t believe in for her to wake up.
When she finally opened her eyes, doctors warned her to go to rehab. “This will kill your baby if you’re not careful,” the stern physician warned her, and that was the first time Seo and Namjoon found out that she was pregnant, that amidst their fucked up rocky relationship they had somehow accidentally created something that was pure. They cried in each other’s arms that night under the fluorescence of the cold white room, promising to be better for their child. That was when he fell in love with her.
It was under the same fluorescence that he fell in love with her again, when she held his hand tight, her nails breaking his skin that still carried the crescent scars, as she gave birth to his daughter, the moon of his life. The nine months leading up to the day had Namjoon rediscovering Seo, had him realizing that he never noticed how kind she was, how she always put him first, shielded him from things she needed so as not to burden him. It made him realize how he had taken her devotion for granted for years and he promised himself to never do so again.
But promises are meant to be broken and it was only a few years later when he started falling back into the same patterns, using work as a cover to escape from his daughter’s shrill cries when she threw tantrums for no reason. He had promised to pick her up from school every Monday, Wednesday and Friday when he was in town. It was his responsibility as a parent but even when he was tired, he cherished those moments, listening to Moon ramble on about school and the friends she was making. He was proud of her, or so his memories liked to tell him, but he knew that inside he would always ignore her, too tired from endless practice to pay attention, placating the child with hums and nods.
It was a time when he was working on Dark and Wild’s last album, the label pressuring him to change every song he sent for approval, the guys relying on him for advice when his brain was sapped dry. He was in a haze, he didn’t know what time it was, what day and at the end of his rope, he had just stopped going home. Things with Seo weren’t bad, and they weren’t good, they just were, like a routine that had been embedded in him – one that he had no motivation to break. He would pick up Moon from school, drop her home and see Seo greeting him and he’d only wave before turning around and going back to his studio, biding his time before coming home late enough that Seo would be asleep. He’d sneak into bed and hold her till he fell asleep.
Those nights, he always knew she was awake but he didn’t have the energy to talk to her, so he would stay silent, and hope that his arm around her waist was enough. It still pained him to admit that somehow along the way, his own wife had become a stranger to him. Somehow the woman he had vowed to love in front of his friends and family as she held his daughter in her arms, had turned into something akin to a pillow he would hug at night. He would feel guilty those nights, tearing up as he held her but then his brain reminded him that the only reason he was working so hard was because of her and Moon, that it would be worth it, that once their contract expired next year he could take a break and rebuild the relationship he had. Little did he know that that would never happen. He still remembered the night he lost her, vivid in his mind like a haunting film on repeat.
He had come back from the studio like always, sneaking into his own home at 2 am. He checked on his daughter, smiling tiredly at how she had her entire body wrapped around the giant pink bunny Jungkook had given her, her long dark hair falling over her face. He tiptoed into the room, picking up the blanket from where she had kicked it onto the floor and covered her up, smiling ever wider when she nuzzled into the soft material further.
Quietly walking into his bedroom, he saw his wife buried under the covers and decided to take a shower, relishing the warm water on his sore muscles. He decided to use her body wash that night, a habit he had developed for when his days were long and he needed the comfort of her scent enveloping her. Perhaps he would wake her and kiss her this time, feeling too needy to care if he got scolded. He had argued with Yoongi that day and he needed her to relieve the stress.
Crawling under the covers he reached for her, cuddling her close till he was kissing her neck, the skin oddly cool below his lips. That was the first sign, one that made him panic as he sat up in bed and started shaking her. He could still remember how loud his heart was pounding in his ears, how his hands shook when he ran to turn on the lights, and saw how blue her lips looked. He was crying on the phone when he called the ambulance, and while he waited he held her hand, trying not to yell in despair as he begged her to wake up, ignoring the familiar paraphernalia on the bedside table.
He was still sobbing when the sirens rang out and rotating red lights invaded through the curtains of his bedroom. Still sobbing when he woke up Moon, gathered her in his arms and followed the ambulance to the hospital. Still sobbing when the doctor told him he was sorry. He didn’t know he had such a large reserve of tears, one that didn’t stop even when the cameras followed his family when he buried her, when he bowed in front of Seo’s mother, clasping onto her feet for forgiveness, when he had to explain to his daughter where mommy was.
And he sobbed again when he told you everything, baring his soul in a way he had never done before, not knowing what he was hoping to accomplish. But when you pulled him to you, wrapped your arms around his head and shushed him, he felt his chest fill with warmth. The memories that had assaulted him faded into the background, your small noises of comfort lulling him into content. He hadn’t meant to recount his life story to you in such a way, he only wanted to tell you why the song had such an effect on him, but something about you had him spilling out his truths without even thinking.
“You’re okay,” you assured him as he apologised, reaching out to the table to hand him the box of tissues that was placed there above the stack of random magazines. With the comfort of your words, he pressed the soft cotton to his eyes, steeling himself, his breaths becoming stable as you gently rubbed his back.
“Thank you,” he whispered, bringing a smile to your face as you shook your head. You didn’t know why he felt the need to thank you, all you had done was sit next to him and listened. You should’ve been the one to thank him for letting you in and for sharing his burden. You told him as such and he laughed, a light watery thing that made you join him. When he stood up, you wrapped him in a hug once again, hoping to heal him.
You had never thought that you would ever spend an evening at a private Dark and Wild concert, but more than that you had never imagined that Namjoon would somehow etch himself into your heart in such a short time.
Maybe that’s the thing about love, you never know when it will come and embrace you.
—-------
Birthdays were never your thing. You never knew why people were always so excited to celebrate another revolution around the sun. Your friends had always called you jaded, but you didn’t believe in celebrating the fact that you had just existed. A birthday wasn’t an accomplishment, everyone had a birthday from serial killers to misogynists – why should such a mundane fact be marked with a party. Yet despite your protests, your friends and family would always shower you with gifts and surprises. When you got older the parties toned down to gatherings at a bar or a restaurant, and slowly you became used to them, even expecting them.
Sitting in your room with the early evening sun pouring through your window and the latest Netflix show on your laptop, it didn’t feel like your birthday. Sure, you had received multiple messages reminding you of the fact, but with your family in another city and your friends scattered around the globe, this year it felt a bit empty, a little lonely. You didn’t know when you had started enjoying the celebrations, but the lack of one was jarring, even when you knew rationally that celebrating birthdays was stupid.
Sighing after yet another episode ended, you decided to pamper yourself, to celebrate not that you were a year older, but that despite missing your friends you were still mostly happy with your life. You gathered your favourite bath bomb and bubble bath from a little box under the bed and put on your fluffiest robe before venturing into the bathroom and lighting too many candles. The little speaker you had hooked on the door came to life with your favourite playlist as the tub filled with warm water, the bubbles increasing in volume and the colour of the water changing to a bright violet.
You decided to go all out, exfoliating and shaving your skin, and adding a clay mask to your skin. Dipping into the warm water felt luxurious, the heat relaxing your muscles. You hadn’t realised how long your days had gotten, how little time you had spent on self care, and you couldn’t help but enjoy the way your body sank into the tub, the water caressing you like a lover, the scents making your eyes droop in content.
You finished up your impromptu spa day with painting your nails a bright pink, a colour you rarely used, even going so far to spend extra time blow drying your hair into silky voluminous waves. It felt nice to forget about everything that had been bothering you lately, from Hera’s constant insistence to be friends to your sudden feelings for Namjoon. It was nice to disconnect.
However, you had barely dressed when you heard your roommate, her bed squeaking through the walls as she wailed your ex’s name, souring your pleasant mood. God, you needed a drink.
Not thinking twice, you swapped your comfiest sweats for a nice dress and grabbed your purse. Just because you didn’t have anyone to celebrate with didn’t mean that you couldn’t enjoy a birthday drink and indulge in some decadent cake. Walking to your favourite coffee shop, you decided to get a cake first, picking the extremely tall eight layered chocolate cake and settling on a seat.
Usually, you would pull up a book you were reading on your phone, or scroll through social media, mindlessly watching TikToks, but today you didn’t feel the need for distractions. Savouring the melting rich mousse on your tongue you looked around the little shop, making up stories about its patrons as your eyes trailed over them. There was an old couple sitting in the corner, sharing a quiche, and you imagined that they had just dropped off their grandchildren after spending a day with them. Then you saw a teenager, standing at the counter, biting his lip, torn on what to choose and you imagined that perhaps he was getting a drink for a crush, hoping to woo them with his choice. When he finally settled on a special strawberry milkshake with a swirl of whipped cream and two straws, you mirrored his smile as he sat next to a wide-eyed girl beaming at him.
Every new customer that entered, you would give them a back story, some more mundane than others. Like when a man with a scar over his eyebrow in a suit came to order an espresso you imagined that he was a stuntman, going into a night shoot. Or when a woman came with a bunch of kids, you imagined she was an au pair, paying her way through a social sciences degree. The stories weren’t crazy, but you liked imagining their lives to be simple, it was comforting.
You were in the middle of another daydream when your phone vibrated, a text lighting up your screen.
Hey. I think after last time, I owe you a drink. You free?
It was a simple message, but the moment you read Namjoon’s name your heart skipped a beat, stories forgotten as your daydream morphed from strangers and their lives to hanging out with Namjoon, his arm around you, his lips on yours. It didn’t help that he was somehow psychic, somehow knowing how much you hated drinking alone.
I’m actually on my way to 88… join me!
You smiled, anticipating hanging out with him for no reason other than his company. You knew it was far-fetched to think about anything happening between you, even if last week had seemed like a turning point in your relationship. He was a famous rockstar with a family, there was no way there was any room in his life for you. Even if you were friends now, once he would convince the guys of the comeback, the two of you would go to occasional hangouts and random text messages, the need for frequent brainstorming sessions over.
Finishing the last bit of cake on your plate, you grabbed your purse when your phone pinged again.
Oh if you’re with your friends, I don’t want to intrude… I was just going to offer this stupidly expensive bottle of champagne I found.
Chuckling at his oddly endearing response, you asked him if he was at home or the studio, and when he confirmed the latter, you hailed a cab and made your way to the familiar glass skyscraper that was beginning to feel a little too comfortable to go to. A knock on the wooden door later, you found yourself face to face with Namjoon, his smile making your own lips lift at the corners, your heart feeling as if it was home.
“Hi… umm… hey. Hello,” he greeted a little awkwardly, moving to the mini fridge under the mixing desk to pull out a large bottle of champagne, the gold label glittering in the low light of the room. You settled on the couch, noticing that he had already put out glasses and snacks, various packets of chips and candy littering the coffee table.
“So champagne, eh? What are we celebrating?” you asked, leaning back comfortably as he joined you, a concentrated frown on his face as he fiddled with the corkscrew, bottle between his legs, attempting to wrestle it open. It popped open with a fizzle, a little bit of the liquid spilling onto his sweats as he chuckled victoriously.
“That you don’t hate me,” he replied with a smile, pouring the drink into the flutes and handing one to you. He felt nervous, not knowing why he had said what he said. He knew you didn’t hate him, you didn’t strike him as the person who would scoff at vulnerability, but still, he felt a little guilty about unloading on you the other day. He didn’t want you to think of him as fragile or that you had to carry his emotional baggage with him.
“I don’t hate you,” you protested, clinking your glass against his before taking a sip, the smooth sweet liquid bubbling through you. It really was expensive champagne, the taste unlike any you had had before, crisp yet alluring. “You had a moment. We all have them.”
Your words made Namjoon relax, confirming that his view of you was correct. He felt light as if a weight had been lifted, making him more confident. Out of everyone he knew, somehow you had made it to the top of the list of people he felt most comfortable with. It scared him how easily you had crawled into that space, without him even realising, but Namjoon had been to too much therapy to discount you, to run away like he usually did.
He watched you as you rose, walking to the speakers you had made yourself familiar with, connecting your phone till a dance pop melody was filling the room. Sitting next to him, Namjoon couldn’t help but notice how you were closer this time, your body heat almost palpable on his knee closest to your thigh. You hummed along to the music as you finished your drink, refilling your glass and then his when he followed suit.
He sat sideways, an elbow at the back of the couch and his hand holding his head. The silence was comfortable, letting him just bask in your presence. You looked different than you usually did, your hair falling in nice waves over your shoulders instead of in a ponytail, your body covered in a dress that worshipped it, wrapping in all the right places that made Namjoon’s mouth run a little dry. He cleared his throat, starting a conversation to distract himself.
“You’re all dressed up,” he commented as casually as he could, wondering what you ditched to hang out with him in his lackluster studio. His head wanted him to feel guilty for pulling you away from something but his heart was giddy that you chose him instead. “Sorry if I interrupted something. I should’ve checked in.”
“You didn’t,” you assured him with a giggle. “I was just going for a drink by myself. You interrupted nothing.”
“What were you celebrating?” he recited your earlier question with a grin, leaning closer to you to refill his glass, the fruity scent of your moisturiser tickling his nostrils deliciously. He wanted to nuzzle into you, to deeply inhale the strawberries from your collarbones, but that would be creepy so he moved back to his earlier position, taking a heavy swig to calm himself, not that the alcohol that was starting to buzz through him helped much.
“My birthday, actually,” you replied offhandedly, laughing as his mouth fell open in surprise. You assured him that you didn’t think birthdays were a big deal, but it seemed that Namjoon didn’t care, scrambling to wish you before he was out the door. You chuckled at how adamant he was about doing something special, taking another sip, before he returned, much quicker than you thought he’d be. He held a plate in his hand, stacked with twinkies, a tiny candle poking out from the one on top.
“Here in the Kim house – well, studio – we go all out for birthdays!” he exclaimed, balancing the plate precariously on the arm of the couch before pulling a lighter from his pocket and setting the wick on fire.
“Yes, all out with twinkies,” you teased, placing your glass on the table and standing next to him.
“Well some people like to hide their birthdays. This is the best cake on short notice,” he joked before starting to sing happy birthday, swaying a little side to side, a wide grin on his face.
This morning when you woke up without any plans and knowing no surprises awaited you, you felt empty, but with Namjoon’s tenor wishing you repeatedly, your eyes glistened a little, the warmth in your chest overwhelming you.
Blowing out the candle, you wished that the warmth never went away, oddly ecstatic that somehow in thirty-three years of living you had been fortunate enough to always have at least one person who wanted to celebrate you despite your protests. Namjoon picked a twinkie from the plate and held it to your lips, and somehow the convenience store confection tasted sweeter than usual. Taking the piece from his hands, you returned the favour and he happily munched on the dessert before placing the plate on the coffee table.
The two of you settled on the couch, and between the sips of champagne, he told you about how much he cherished birthdays and never took them for granted. He always went all out on his own, renting large venues to treat his friends to absurd things like skiing trips and jumping castles.
He told you about how for Moon’s birthdays he always implemented the no “no” rule where he would do anything he asked, sharing stories about the time she had gotten him to take her to Disneyland when she was nine and puked from one too many churros, and how for her thirteenth the duo had embarked on a hike in Costa Rica finding hidden waterfalls and cataloguing bugs they found on the way.
“Birthdays with you sound magical,” you remarked, a little jealous that your dad never took you to a rainforest for your birthdays. You could just imagine the way Moon’s face probably lit up when going on her dream vacation.
“Birthdays are magical,” he replied, pouring the last of the alcohol into your two glasses, cheeks flushed from how tipsy he was. He handed you your glass, smiling at you wistfully. “It means you lived another year. It means that you’re here, alive, with me. And that’s worth celebrating.”
You felt the warmth from earlier invade you again, magnified by the bubbly wine in your veins and the way his hand was still holding the glass under yours, sending tingles up your arm. Before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward, your lips landing on his in a brief impulse that sparked till your toes. But it seemed that you weren’t the only one who wanted to do so. You had barely moved away when he was leaning forward, his free hand gently resting on your waist as his lips captured yours once again.
Never in a million years would you have imagined kissing Namjoon Kim on his couch after he forced you to celebrate your birthday, and yet with a flurried haste you were moving your joined hands to the table to deposit your glass, winding your arms around his neck. The glass fell on the table with a little tinkle, the champagne spilling over the surface, but Namjoon couldn’t care less, taking the opportunity to pull you closer, his tongue tasting your peachy lip gloss before delving in and enjoying the sweetness of the wine on your tongue, relishing the little moan you made, your tongue twisting with his.
It was hungry, the two of you wrestling with the feelings that were brewing for months, his hands roaming your sides, squeezing at the flesh, and your fingers tugging the hair at the nape of his neck, making him keen. It seemed that the moment would last forever, neither of you willing to part even to breathe. That is, until the song changed.
It's your birthday, so I know you want to ride out
Even if we only go to my house
Sip mo-eezy as we sit upon my couch
Feels good, but I know you want to cry out
The moment the R&B vocals filled the room, you couldn’t help bursting out in a laugh, cackling at the oddly specific lyrics your phone had decided to throw at you. Namjoon didn’t notice at first, his lips continuing to move from your mouth to your jaw to your neck, nipping at the skin. However, as your laughs got more hysterical, he finally tuned into the song playing, cringing before he joined your cackles, breathless with his forehead against yours.
“So Google really does listen in,” he deadpanned, his humour adding to your joy as you clung on to him, half in his lap before standing up to grab your phone from the table. As funny as the song was, you really didn’t want a soundtrack describing what Namjoon would do to you. A little voice in your head told you to not get your hopes up, that no matter how much you liked him, it was still just a kiss.
However as soon as you turned around, Namjoon put your fears to rest. Unlike how hesitant he had seemed earlier, he was now sitting with a confidence you hadn’t seen before, legs spread and a smirk lighting his face as he stared at you. His eyes roamed your body as he bit his lip, making you feel a little overheated.
“So it’s your birthday,” he commented casually, head tilted slightly, eyes intensely boring into yours. “Wanna ride it out?”
You knew he was teasing you by quoting the silly song but your body didn’t know better, your stomach aching with lust at his deep baritone. The Namjoon you knew was a goofy, clumsy dad, but this Namjoon was the notorious bassist of your youth, cocky and fearless as he sat up straighter, hands landing on your waist to pull you between his legs.
“I’ve read the tags on your blogs, y’know?” he teased, his hands running up and down your waist, the few inches they travelled leaving fire on your skin. “I remember one,” he mused, pulling you down till you straddled him, a knee on either side of his hips. “‘God I’d pay all the money to sit on those dimples’ isn’t that what you said?”
Your mouth flew open at his words. You never thought your horny 3 am thoughts would ever be recited back to you by the subject himself and you had no words, every witty retort dying on your tongue to leave you with a lame, “You weren’t supposed to read that.”
“And you weren’t supposed to make me fall for you,” he replied, earlier bravado falling away in favour of sincerity. He cupped your jaw, thumb running softly over your cheekbone as he smiled at you. “Can I kiss you?”
As soon as you whispered your consent he brought your face to his, lips reuniting to a taste he realised he could never get enough of. It was addicting how your hands gingerly clasped onto his shoulders, how you shivered when he traced his tongue over yours, and how you moaned softly when he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you.
It didn’t take long for him to get needier, for his hands to grab onto your ass over your dress and mould to your flesh, to move your hips against his in a rhythm that made him heady. He wanted you so much that he felt breathless, running out of time even though he knew he wasn’t. His actions made you breathless too, like with every touch he was leading you to the edge of a cliff, hands shaking in anticipation of what was to come, but your brain refused to turn off, to forget whose hands were touching you till you were pushing him away, your forehead against his.
“I’m sorry… I’m a bit out of practice,” you apologised in a whisper, but he just grinned, dissolving your insecurities with his words.
“Me too,” he giggled, kissing your lips, once, twice, three times, his hands clasping onto yours, fingers lacing together. “We can practise together if you want… or we can wait. Whatever you like, birthday girl.”
Somehow his hands in yours and the cheeky smile on his face comforted you. You had been imagining the rockstar, the person you watched grow up through your screen and go wild on stage, but the more you looked at him, the more you saw who he really was.
His flushed cheeks, the little constellation of freckles on his face and the one hidden below his lip, the way his eyes searched yours so eagerly. He wasn’t a rockstar, he was just Namjoon, the one who made stupid jokes and stashed snacks in every drawer. The one who got bullied by his daughter and complained to you about it. The one who was brave enough to open up to you about his life. You knew him, he was real, and, like him, you were falling too.
With his hands still in yours, you leaned forward, kissing him again, confident and undeterred, and he followed suit, deepening the kiss before he was holding onto your waist and spinning around. You barely registered lying on your back before he was upon you, his weight cushioning you deliciously into the couch, the soft fabric of his sweatpants caressing your inner thighs.
“Hi,” he whispered, adoration dripping from his pupils as he smiled, fingers stroking your hair and you couldn’t help leaning forward to capture his lips once again, legs tightening around his waist. You could hear the blood rushing through you, an ambient backdrop to the sounds of his lips moving down to your neck as his teeth nipped at the skin of your collarbone. It had been so long since you had touched someone, been worshipped by someone like Namjoon was determined to do so that you couldn’t help canting your hips against his, relishing the way his pants left nothing to the imagination, his rapidly hardening cock providing the friction you sought.
With all the bravery you could muster, you detangled your hand from under his to the side of your dress pulling the zipper down with a loud purr Namjoon felt shooting through him. With the dress loosened, it gave him room to roam your skin further, his lips soothing the heated skin of your chest as he pulled the straps down to reveal your nipples. Namjoon had seen many bodies in his life; on the screen, in strip clubs, writhing under him; but something about yours made him pause to drink it up. He could see the way your lips fell open, swollen and red, the way your chest rose with your heavy breaths, nipples perked in anticipation, and the way your eyes looked up at him, wide and inviting. And right below your chest, sprawled on your right rib, were the words he wrote so long ago now.
And the swings that can't look at the sky on their own, and the kids all grown up, and me who’s a little late
His mouth fell open as he tried to wrap his head around how perfect you were. He felt a familiar rush through him. One he hadn’t felt in so long that he was almost afraid he had outgrown it – the pure endorphins of a crush fulfilled. With a muttered curse, he buried his face back in your neck, almost desperate to inhale your scent once more. His hands planted themselves on your chest, squeezing the flesh, making you moan his name in a desperation that only fuelled him further, lips moving to encase a nipple between them to add to your ecstasy.
You whimpered when his teeth came to play, the blunt edges hardening them further, making you grasp his hair and arch your back. Leaving goosebumps in their wake, his hands moved down your body, wrapping around each of your thighs, pushing your dress to your waist, denting the flesh. He had missed the feel of soft skin under him for so long, much more so since you started featuring in his life and his dreams, but touching you was better than any wet dream. The melody of your mewls intensified when he switched to your other breast, his fingers dipping to the apex of your thighs to indulge in the way your panties stuck to you, so wet all for him.
You felt your legs shake out of their own accord as Namjoon moved down your body, still relentlessly tracing you over your ruined panties. You had forgotten intimacy after Ryan, always talking yourself out of potential new relationships, one-night stands never something that satiated you, but somehow Namjoon had sneaked in and weakened your defences. When his lips sought out your clit over the thin lace, you couldn’t help but thank the heavens that he had appeared in your life, pleasure coursing through you. With every flick of his tongue, you felt yourself getting closer to coming undone, muscles tightened in suspense of his next actions.
Impatient and desperate, Namjoon couldn’t wait any longer, pushing aside the fabric that guarded you from him to dip his finger in, your walls welcoming him with a pulse as if emitting a secret in morse code just for him. With fervour, he wrapped his lips around your clit, another finger joining the first, pumping in time with your gasps. Your grip on his hair tightened and he went faster, eager to see you fall apart.
There didn’t seem to be enough oxygen in the room, enough syllables in any language to describe how he made you feel in that moment. It was as if you could feel every drop of blood inside you rush through your body, haphazard and chaotic, brewing like a storm deep in your core, getting wilder and wilder. Your senses were hyper focused, each touch making you quake, each moan that Namjoon made between your thighs vibrating through you. It bordered on too much, building until there was no way to escape.
Silence.
That’s what it sounded like. As if you were thrown underwater, your whimpers sounded like distant noises from a different universe, muffled and overwhelming. You didn’t know when you started holding your breath but when his tongue flicked under your clit, and his fingers hooked into that one spot, you finally remembered to breathe, your entire body relaxing to a point where you shook so violently that he had no choice but to look up at the euphoria painted on your features.
Eyes closed tight, all you saw were stars as his fingers rode you through your high, slowing to a pace you could relish. Soon, his lips were on yours, swallowing your soft moans, and your hands were around his shoulders holding him close.
“Okay?” he asked between kisses, heart skipping a beat at the way you beamed at him, hair matted to your sweaty forehead. Gathering your senses, you pushed him away, sitting up and pulling his shirt off, wanting his skin on yours.
He welcomed you with open arms, when you discarded your dress next to his shirt and climbed on his lap, once again uniting your lips. It was as if he couldn’t get enough, wanting his lips to be thoroughly chapped if it meant he could never stop kissing you.
“More,” you whispered, against his lips, hands roaming his strong chest and down to his abs, the muscle jumping under your fingertips.
“More?” he asked, dazed.
“More,” you replied once again, fingers trailing the little hairs under his belly button before slipping under the waistband into his underwear. His skin was soft, velvet under your touch, and he was so hard, tip messy as you played with him. He twitched in your hold, thighs flexing under you and his hands on your thighs gripping tighter, but you didn’t stop, stroking him slowly till he was keening, scrambling to push you off and get a condom.
“Condoms in the studio? How convenient,” you teased, enjoying the way Namjoon’s already flushed skin turned a deeper shade of red. However, his expression didn’t betray his flustered state as he confidently walked back to the couch, dropping his sweatpants and boxers on the way.
He stood like an adonis in front of you, sculpted and hard, his cock at eye level as he put on the condom, slowly teasing you before sitting next to you, arms sprawled on the cushions next to him.
Resisting him was futile, and your body moved on autopilot, underwear coming off without hesitance before you straddled him once again, resting your wet thighs against his. You traced his biceps, running your fingers up his shoulders to find him staring up at you. You lost yourself in his eyes, tracing the pattern of his irises, how the darkness melted into a warm chocolate.
Bringing his hands to your waist, he mirrored your movements, fingertips lightly grazing your sides. He knew you were joking, but something about your teasing made him feel guilty, made him want to dispel your worries, even if they didn’t exist. Capturing your lips, he wrapped his arms around you, resting his forehead against yours before speaking.
“Haven’t needed them for two years,” he murmured with a kiss, chuckling at the disbelief so easily painted on your face. “Told you I was out of practice.”
“You are definitely not out of practice.”
You could still feel the buzz in your body, the way he reduced you to nothing, just a mess blabbering his name. If this was him out of practice, you were almost afraid of knowing what he was like when he was more comfortable. You hoped you would find out. Cupping his face, you kissed him again before guiding his length into you, sinking down in one swoop, the stretch making you keen, thighs shivering.
“Fuck,” he moaned, his breath fanning your jaw as he tried to calm the urge to buck his hips into you. “You’re not either.”
You set a gentle pace, wanting to feel him for as long as possible, your breaths mingling together as you clung on to each other. But with one kiss, patience ran out. Tongues wrestling with each other, Namjoon lifted you up only to move you over his cock faster, jostling you into compliance as his hips thrust into you in time with his arms. Everytime he sunk into you, your nails dug into his shoulders, scratching the skin deliciously, making him go faster and faster.
It was too much.
It was not enough.
As he went faster and his pace threatened to chase your sanity away, you brought your fingers to your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves faster and faster, matching the way he grunted into your mouth, untethered, unhinged. It felt like an eternity, dangling so close to the edge that you could feel your walls closing in on him, his cock struggling to keep up with the earlier smooth movements.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted, bringing your mouth back to his to lap at your lips. He thought he was so desperate because he missed sex, but nothing he had experienced came close to the way he felt lost in your warmth, unbelievably hard, forgetting the way his calves were cramping. He was so close, he could feel his eye twitching, his lip quivering with each of his moans. And then you came.
Your pussy clenched around him, pulsing, massaging him to an orgasm that made him float into the air, made him lose all sense of time, made him lose all feeling except for the way your arousal gushed into his lap, covering him, marking him as yours. And he wanted to be yours so bad. With a strangled whimper of your name, he held you still, rubbing his hands over your back, partly to sooth you and partly to ground himself, to remind him that you were real and not just one of his daydreams.
He lifted your head from where it was buried in his shoulder, lips chasing yours, tongue gently caressing, head heady with a satiated glow he felt emanating from his chest to the tips of his toes.
“Wow,” you breathed, bodies still joined together, hands playing with his hair, eyes drinking in the endeared look on his face. He didn’t reply, only smiled brightly before meeting your lips once again, getting you lost in his bliss.
You sat there kissing for a while before Namjoon’s phone rang, eliciting a groan from the man who refused to let you go. When the jingle persisted, he held you at the waist leaning forward to pick up his phone to see his daughter’s face lighting up the screen. Namjoon felt bad about sending his child to voicemail, but he had just gotten a taste of you. He didn’t want it to end, not yet.
“Sorry, Moon,” he whispered before pressing the red button to silence the call and kissing you again. You giggled on his lips at his antics, but he silenced you with his tongue, deepening the kiss with a moan that signalled the beginning of a second round. However, before you could lose yourself in him again, you heard a loud voice.
“Daaaaaaaaaaad! Daaaaaaaaaad!” Moon’s whine was clear through the static of the line, Namjoon’s eyes widening in shock before he stared at the phone. He was so sure he silenced the call! With an apologetic glance at you, he picked up his phone, clearing his throat before speaking, while you tried to control the laughter bubbling in your chest.
“Hi Moonie,” he answered, pouting at you exaggeratedly as you moved off his lap to grab your underwear. You had barely put it on before he was pulling you back towards him, an arm locked around your waist, chin propped on your shoulder as he continued the conversation. “Yes I know… I’ll get it. No, I won't forget! When have I ever forgotten anything?” he exclaimed, rolling his eyes.
The whole exchange would be adorable if it wasn’t for the way his hands moved from your waist to your chest, fingers playing with your nipple almost absent-mindedly. When he hung up, he turned towards you, kissing you once again.
“Wanna come over for pizza night?” he asked, pecking your cheek, enjoying the way your lips rose into a smirk before blooming into a grin. He knew it was too early, but he wanted to make you smile like that every day, as long as you’d let him. When the two of you dressed, he pulled you into a hug, letting his arms encompass you before whispering what he wanted the most, “Stay over after?”
Your heart fluttered in its space, growing wings and vying to get out, effervescent and giddy. Going up on your tiptoes, you captured his lips once more, softly, hugging him tighter.
“I’d like that very much.”
—-------
The week after you spent the night with Namjoon didn’t turn out to be the blissful week you thought it would be. With his case with Generation Swine coming to an end, there were a lot of meetings and paperwork. With their lawyers adamant about copyrights, you spent the majority of your time pouring over historical cases with your paralegal. Exhausting every resource, there only seemed to be one solution that you could come up with, a compromise that left you frustrated because you wanted to win.
Your communication with Namjoon was mainly relegated to succinct text messages that made you feel a little insecure about the evening you had spent with him – not to mention that his case made you feel a little guilty about building that kind of relationship with a client. However, your solace was to find a solution and put the situation to bed. Namjoon was the first man after Ryan who had made you feel safe enough to even think about another relationship and you didn’t want your constant excuse of work to dwindle the flame like so many others in the past.
Wine glass in hand, you sat on your living room couch, trying to write the final agreement and even though you knew that Namjoon had fully agreed to whatever you would come up with, you couldn’t help wanting his opinion one last time. A frustrated sigh left your lips as you reread the terms Generation Swine’s lawyers had put forward and with a large gulp of the wine, you dialled Namjoon.
“Hi,” he answered, his deep drawl making you remember how he had whispered the same word before he ruined you. Gulping, you tried to clear your head with another sip of your drink.
“Okay I have a question,” you said, scrolling through the document, ready to dive into the proposed agreement before he interrupted you.
“Me too. What are you wearing?” His tone was cheeky, an audible smile making you giggle, trying not to get sidetracked by him like you always did. There was a reason your usual twenty minute client meetings went on for hours.
“What am I wearing? Really?”
“Mhm. Missed you this week,” he replied with a raspy voice that made you squeeze your thighs together, wanting to abandon your earlier plan, but you were too close to the finish line, too close to genuinely give him your time without the added weight of dating a client.
“Namjoon Kim! I’m trying to work here!” you chastised, despite the growing need in the pit of your stomach.
“Yeah, so work with me!” he exclaimed, chuckling. “Is it that cute lace thing you were wearing that day?”
“Stop,” you whined, covering your flushed face even though you knew he couldn’t see you as he cackled through the phone. However, you did note to wear similar lingerie the next time you saw him, smiling to yourself.
“Sorry, sorry! What do you need darling?” Deciding to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at the nickname, you put him on speaker, leaning forward to read the screen and dictating the points to him.
Essentially, the label and their lawyers had decided not to sue Namjoon if he paid the minimal contract breaking fee and gave them the rights to the songs he had already sent them demos for, four in total. You had countered that with the demand that the song may never be used by Generation Swine and that they may be used by other artists of the label if they gave Namjoon full credits, including in the title and changed none of the original lyrics.
Initially, you had been surprised that they had easily agreed. You had thought they would fight you more on it, but they were happy to agree and sign, and despite your reservations, you were obligated to provide this information to Namjoon.
“That sounds… great actually,” he said after a pause. “My name in the title too? That’s kinda crazy they agreed to it.”
“Perhaps your name carries more weight than you thought,” you commented, eyes still glued to the screen, lip between your teeth.
“I mean especially if we do a comeback,” he replied, a little smug and you couldn’t help but knock him down a notch, just to tease him.
“Last I heard, no one wants a comeback,” you grinned.
“Mark my words, Dark and Wild will be back. I’m Namjoon Kim after all, don’t you trust the words of the leader?” he volleyed back, his laugh carrying through the static making you mirror it.
“I’m sure Hoseok would love to hear that you're the leader,” you teased, only to get a scoff in return.
“Hobi knows I’m the leader,” he gloated.
“All hail President Kim,” you acquiesced through a giggle.
“That’s right,” he said, pleased and you could just imagine him puffing up his chest. “Now that that’s out of the way… What are you wearing?”
“I am not sexting you, Namjoon!” you protested, laughing at his one track mind and crossing your legs.
“Okay fine. What about… a date? When are you free?” he asked and you couldn’t help the way a blush grew on your cheeks, a giddiness you hadn’t experienced in too long bubbling inside you.
“As soon as you sign this agreement,” you answered, emailing him a copy of the document as you took him off speaker and leaned back on your couch. “So after the final meeting with the label tomorrow?”
“Well lucky for you, I can’t wait to see you,” he said, his sincerity easily flowing through the line and melting your heart in your chest.
—-----
Namjoon was livid. Pacing around his living room, he scrolled through his twitter to find himself trending. Thousands of people were talking about a Dark and Wild comeback, every single person referring to one video in particular. A blank screen with his voice echoing through: ”Mark my words, Dark and Wild will be back. I’m Namjoon Kim after all, don’t you trust the words of the leader?”
There was only one explanation for why this was suddenly going viral. There was only one person who had access to this. His heart plummeted to his stomach at the thought. He had trusted you. Trusted you with his secrets, trusted you with his authentic self. But you were just like everyone else, weren’t you? Just a clout chaser that went to the press at the first opportunity. He had to commend you. You played a long con, most of the women he had been involved with leaked pictures of him the moment he let them into his house, but you had been cunning, waiting till he had handed you his heart on a platter to shatter it mercilessly.
He could feel his hair stand at the thought of what else you might share of his life. Would you be like the first woman he had dated after Seo? The one who went on television with an exclusive interview talking about his dick. The interview his daughter’s classmates had bullied her with. He felt panicked as he called you. Would you go for an interview too? Expose how he had introduced his wife to a drug that took her life? Expose how much a failure he was and destroy the carefully curated narrative his PR team presented to the world?
His feet moved faster as if they were trying to keep up with his heart, each ring distracting him further, making him bump into the coffee table, spilling his morning coffee on the spotless surface. He watched the brown liquid cover the glass expanse before trickling onto the marble one drop at a time, mimicking the sweat that gathered on his forehead.
When you picked up, his body responded like usual, warming at the sleepy rasp, the one he remembered from a few weeks ago when you had woken up with your limbs wrapped around him, the sunlight brightening your smile. Stupid. He was so stupid!
“Why would you do this? I trusted you! I trusted you with my plans! My life! How the fuck could you do this to me?” he yelled, his frustration manifesting in a lump in his throat, choking his words, making them spill out strained and distorted. He didn’t let you speak, interrupting your feigned confusion. He didn’t have time to be nice. He had to figure out how to fix this. He needed to check on the guys. He needed to check on Moon. This was too much.
So he spoke even faster, let his bitter betrayal flavour his words with the worst expletives he could muster and ending the call with a simple threat, “Fuck you! Fuck you for doing this to me. I never wanna fucking see you again. I hope that degree is good enough because I’m gonna sue you out of every fucking penny you have. Mark my words, Y/N.”
He was panting by the time he hung up, lungs aching as they expanded, tears flowing as he realised just how much it hurt. His grip on his phone tightened and before he knew it he was throwing it across the room, shattering it against the wall with a frustrated scream.
“Dad?”
His daughter’s surprised voice pulled him out of his head, freezing him where he was still pacing, the adrenaline from earlier vanishing into exhaustion. He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face and mustering a smile before turning around, trying immensely hard to put up a brave front. But he had forgotten how precocious his daughter was, how she saw through him as she held his hand and settled him on the couch.
She brought him a bottle of water, waiting for him to drink before sitting next to him, posture impeccable and jaw tightened in a scowl. He saw himself in her at that moment, the expression one he would give his band members when they strayed out of line. Now he knew why they listened, even on a sixteen year old the look was intimidating.
“Dad, was that you talking to Y/N?” she asked, arms crossed across her chest and for a moment Namjoon felt sheepish, guilty that she had heard the ugly words he had spoken. Yet that guilt did not extend to you. He knew that if he didn’t threaten you, the things you might say to the press would have a lasting impression on his daughter.
She knew the circumstances of her mother’s death, but she never knew how complicit he had been. She always looked up to him as a role model, and he didn’t think his heart could ever take it if that illusion shattered. But he got a glimpse of that when he quietly affirmed her suspicion and watched her face fall, the scowl replaced with a sadness he wished he could erase.
“I’m really disappointed in you, dad,” she sighed, shaking her head and her words felt like a sword piercing through Namjoon’s chest. He had worked so hard to make sure she never felt that way. He knew she deserved a much better father than him, and he had tried so hard to ensure that; he had worked jobs he hated, he had read hundreds of parenting books, and he had gone to therapy. Yet the words seemed to come so easily to her, permeating the air with a tension that stiffened Namjoon’s shoulders and put him on the defensive.
“Have you seen the internet? She betrayed us, Moonie,” he retorted, voice a little colder than he wanted, but he couldn’t help it, fire stoked once again.
“Did she tell you it was her?” she replied with an eye roll, so naive.
“There could have been no one else. It was a private conversation between us.”
“But did you hear her out? All I could hear was you yelling,” she protested and Namjoon couldn’t help but shake his head. Not only had you fucked with his head, but you had also somehow put his daughter under your spell as well, especially when she continued, “You were mean. You threatened her!”
“It was to protect us. We can’t have random people think they can get away with stuff like this,” he tried to explain, watching his daughter get agitated and looking like a kid once again with her pigtails bouncing. She kept telling him he was wrong despite his efforts to remain calm and expound on his stance.
“You like her! She’s a lawyer. Why would she do this?” she argued and Namjoon couldn’t stop himself from laughing at how innocent his daughter was. He hoped she remained this optimistic forever, that she didn’t have to go through the duplicity he had experienced in his life. The more he tried to explain to her that that’s what people were like sometimes, that it was hard to trust anyone other than family, the more agitated he got at her denial.
Any other time, he would be proud of her for sticking to her stance and arguing through her thoughts, but Namjoon was exhausted. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that the reason he had found out this audio was leaked was not because of the news, but because his PR firm had called him about it. They had traced the origin to a dummy Twitter account which had posted and tagged it multiple times. They had also traced the IP address to where he knew your apartment was. There was no room for doubt when everything was crystal clear.
And so for the first time, he snapped at his daughter.
“Enough! I don’t want to hear it. I’m the parent, not you. Go to your room.”
He always hated parents that dangled their authority over their children. His parents were like that and although he was past it now, he remembered resenting them for it when he was younger. He resented their inability to talk things through, to listen to his point of view. It had taken him years to get over that feeling, but he never felt true empathy for them until this moment, his heart breaking as he watched his daughter angrily stomp towards her room.
Taking a deep breath, he ran his hands over his face in defeat. With the anger fading, came the heartbreak. He really had thought you were special, someone who somehow understood him. A chance encounter that led to him shedding the walls he had reinforced in the past ten years. He was upset about the betrayal, but his fear was more pressing. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to trust anyone again and that thought chilled him to the core. Years of therapy had taught him out of his usual defence mechanisms, to replace the toxicity with healthy coping, yet his chest felt tight as he felt the intense need to wallow.
An arm over his eyes, he tried not to notice how his skin turned moist and instead focused on what he did when he felt this way. Standing up, he grabbed his keys and headed to his studio.
—-------
You were still in bed, hand clutching your phone as Namjoon’s words rang in your head. Scrolling through the news you could see why he was seething. If you were him, you would’ve jumped to the same conclusion, but you knew it wasn’t you that leaked the video. Being hacked was out of the question, you had obscenely long passwords and two factor authentication on everything – working with high powered clients tended to seep into paranoia. Additionally, it wasn’t like you were recording the conversation in the first place. It was as if someone was in the room with you, taking notes of your conversation. Namjoon had even mentioned something about being sure it came from your address.
And then it dawned on you.
Phone clutched in your hand, you headed to your spare room, knocking furiously till a yawning Hera appeared. Her long hair stuck out at weird angles, pajamas frumpled and the impression of a pillow still on her face. She seemed like she was sleeping so soundly and it only made the anger licking at your veins ignite further.
Holding up your phone, you played the video, seething. “Did you leak this?”
“Ugh, this is what you woke me up for? Yeah. Now, let me go to bed,” she yawned, moving to close the door before you stopped her.
You expected her to deny it, to make an excuse but her blatant admittance to invading your privacy had you spiralling. You had put up with a lot with her. You had excused her shitty decisions, you had excused her inability to ever pay for anything, but this was too much.
“This was a private conversation, Hera,” you gritted, getting angrier as she just shrugged and rolled her eyes.
“Celebrities aren’t private,” she replied nonchalantly. “Think of it like I was a paparazzi.”
“But that’s the thing. You’re not. This was a private conversation and you recorded it. Do you not understand how fucked up that is?”
“Oh my god! Give me a break! I didn’t even release the juicy stuff. I could’ve told the world you were dating that guy but I didn’t because I’m your friend.”
You couldn’t help but sputter at her rationalisation. It was absurd how she thought it was okay to do this. You knew her morals weren’t always aligned with yours, but you never realised how far they had truly skewed. How had you missed this in all these years? How had you not realised how one sided this relationship had become? Why did you keep putting up with her when she never showed you an ounce of respect?
“Get out,” you said, trying to hold back your vexation.
“What? You’re kicking me out now?” she laughed as if it was the most unbelievable thing in the world.
“I said get out. I want you out of here by tonight.”
“Come on! I’m sorry Y/N. Is that what you want to hear?” she pouted, turning her voice higher to be cuter. Perhaps it would have worked in the past. Maybe it had, for her to pull it out of her arsenal, but she had gone too far. Much too far. When you repeated your words once again, she seemed angry, spitting at you how she knew you were trying to get Ryan back and she needed to always record you to make sure she could trust you. It was absurd and you didn’t want to expend any more energy on her. You were done.
You left her screaming at you, grabbing your keys and sending her one last warning before slamming the door and going to your office.
“You take your stuff and you get out. If I find anything missing or if you’re still here when I get back, I’m calling the police.”
—-------
Despite the odd look security gave your outfit as you walked into your building on a Sunday morning, you were too wired up to care. It wasn’t unusual for you to be one track minded when it came to something. You often got borderline obsessed, and today you had only one thing on your mind – get that video off the internet. Settling in your office, you scanned your shelves for books on defamation and invasion of privacy. It would make a flimsy case, Namjoon said his name on the recording after all, but if you could find a precedent, you could perhaps develop a useful argument.
When your shelves did not give you the answers you were looking for, you made your way across the empty floor to the in-house library, picking up anything of use. Before long, you were sitting at your desk, piles of books and the internet calming your nerves. However, the more you read, the more the pit in your stomach grew. It felt fruitless, looking for a needle in a vast ocean.
You needed this win to clear your name, but more importantly, you needed it to help Namjoon. It had been so long since anyone made you feel safe, made you feel as if you were worthy of their vulnerability and your heart ached as you imagined how he must have felt seeing your private conversation in the headlines. Head pounding, you tugged at your hair in frustration, reading the same line over and over till the words held no meaning at all.
You opened your drawer, rummaging for some painkillers till your hand closed around the bottle. Pulling it out, your eyes landed on the chocolate bars Namjoon had insisted on you stashing in your office. “In case you ever have a bad day!” he had exclaimed when he handed you a bunch of his favourites. The memory seemed bitter now, but you still picked up a bar, ripping it open and letting the sweet taste distract you with its endorphins.
Maybe it was pathetic crying in your rapidly darkening office with chocolate smeared on your face but everything felt overwhelming all of a sudden. If you had only lost Namjoon perhaps you would have been able to hold it together. You had dealt with breakups, not sure if the short lived stint with the celebrity even counted as a breakup. But it was the loss of Hera that had you sniffling, curled up on your chair. She wasn’t the greatest of friends but she was your best friend, had been for years and you would do anything to protect her. It pained you that she didn’t even think of extending you the same courtesy, that for her you had somehow gone from a confidant to an untrustworthy roommate.
Despite your efforts, she seemed to always look for the worst in you. As you ruminated over the decade-long friendship, more instances became obvious. It was as if every toxic red flag had been ignored by you. Were you really that desperate for kinship that you let every time she put you down slide by?
They weren’t big things, you thought. A slight here, a ruthless comment there before she was telling you to chill out and hugging you. You always thought that her comments were innocent, that they were just a part of her love language. She liked to joke around, poke fun at your outfits, your hobbies, but the more you thought about it, the harder it was for you to remember moments when she had been kind, when she had stood up for you.
Perhaps it was your fault for forgiving her time and time again, for putting up with her behaviour. Maybe this whole leak debacle wouldn’t have happened in the first place if you had called her out on her bullshit earlier. Maybe you should’ve reconsidered your friendship when she never offered to pay rent, or when she started dating your cheating, hateful ex. Was she really at fault if you had never set the boundaries in the first place?
Sighing, you set your head on the table. Hoping to will away the headache, you closed your eyes.
It seemed merely minutes had passed when your phone chimed, startling you awake but the time on the screen alarmed you. It was just past 1am. Somehow you had spent the majority of your day sleeping at your desk. Your back ached from the angle, but the pain was forgotten when your phone chimed once again. Wiping your eyes you took a closer look at your screen.
Namjoon - Missed calls (5)
Namjoon: Is Moon with you?
Namjoon: Please call me back
Namjoon: Please
Namjoon: I’m really sorry but please I can’t find Moon
Panic surged through you at his words, your fingers flying on the screen as you called him back. The phone rang twice before Namjoon’s ragged voice was bombarding you with questions, “Where are you? Is Moon with you? Has she contacted you?”
“No, but we can find her. Namjoon, listen, calm down. We’ll find her.” You tried to comfort him but it seemed that he was spiralling, muttering about being a bad father. It was a drastic contrast to his earlier fire, alarm dousing his tone in helplessness. He went on to tell you that her phone was at home, that he hadn’t seen her for hours, and the police had told him they’d make the case a priority.
“What if she was kidnapped? What if people think that I’m famous again and they can put her for ransom?” he rambled, clearly distressed. Trying to distract him from his dark thoughts, you asked him about all the places she could be and when he informed you that everyone was looking at her usual spots, you decided to search up other spots in the city where she could be, looking up parks and concert venues. With assurance that you will look for her, you hung up the phone, ran to your car and started your search of the city.
1 am on a Monday doesn’t lead to many crowds so it was easy to go through the top spots that you had listed. You even rented a bike and biked up and down the Han river park but other than a few drunks, you found no trace of her. Back in your car, you tried to run through every conversation with her, there had been so few, and she hadn’t mentioned anything. Giving up, you hoped that they had found her and forgotten to tell you. You were an insignificant part of their lives anyway.
Calling Namjoon didn’t work, his phone just rang through each time. You knew you should just go home and let him deal with it, he had his best friends and the police on his side, he didn’t need you, someone he didn’t even trust anymore, to tag along. But the unrest in your chest wouldn’t let you turn your car around. Instead, you drove to his apartment as if on instinct. If he wanted you out, he would tell you, he clearly had no problem making his opinions known when he wanted to.
When you knocked on his door, you were met by a Namjoon you hadn’t seen before. Eyes red, hair a mess, he let you in before starting his pacing again, rambling about how he was a terrible father, interrupting you angrily when you tried to tell him otherwise.
“I told her to go to her room! Do you know how fucked up that is?” he yelled, confusing you further.
“Namjoon… a lot of kids get sent to their room. That’s not a bad thing,” you cautioned, putting a hand on his shoulder.
“Not Moon. She was… so disappointed in me. I’m not supposed to be like those other parents! What if… what if that’s the last thing I say to her?” His lip quivered as he spoke, facade crumbling as he fell to his knees, taking you with him. For all the vitriol he had spewed that morning, it seemed that Namjoon just wanted you close, clinging on to you in his panic. You couldn’t help but hold him close, even if it was temporary, wishing to provide him with comfort as long as he allowed.
It was in that position that Moon found the two of you when she returned, immediately running to her father.
“Dad? What’s wrong?” she asked, kneeling next to you as Namjoon stared at her before pulling her into a bone-crushing bone crushing hug.
“Where were you? I was so worried!” he scolded, unable to stop the huge relieved grin on his face. He patted her hair as if to feel if she was real and you couldn’t help but be endeared by the pure display as they bickered, It was heartwarming to see Moon trying to explain to her worried father that she had merely forgotten her phone at home and gone to a concert with friends.
“You could’ve messaged from someone’s phone or left a note!” Namjoon argued, still hugging her.
“I left a note on the fridge!” she replied as Namjoon sheepishly made excuses as to how he had been too worried to even check the kitchen fridge.
The two were in their own bubble and it made you a little awkward to be watching such an intimate family moment when before the disaster it was made clear that you were no longer welcomed in Namjoon’s life. With a heavy heart, you stood up taking your leave despite Moon’s insistence for you to stay the rest of the night.
As you were leaving, Jungkook and Yoongi came by, both equally relieved to find their niece safe and sound. When the elevator doors closed in front of you, you decided that it was better to have gotten a glimpse into the lives of people you admired than to have never had that time with them at all. It still hurt to have Namjoon distrust you so easily, even if rationally it made sense as to why he did. You were only a fleeting moment and that was okay.
You were grateful for the time you spent with him.
—-------
It had been a week since he berated and then asked you for a favour, and Namjoon didn’t think he could ever feel so empty again. He stared at the glass of whiskey in front of him, trying to figure out if it was even a good idea to call you. Would you hear him out, let him apologise or would you just brush him off?
You hadn’t apologised for the leak and even if he did overreact in the moment, he knew that it was unfair of you to do that. But after how quick you had jumped in to help him search for Moon and how none of his other secrets came into the limelight, his gut told him that maybe he had been wrong. Maybe you had gotten hacked, or he had gotten hacked. Maybe there was an explanation that didn’t lead to him losing you from his life. But then again, did he even deserve to invite you back in when he had so ruthlessly shoved you out. Damn, he even threatened to sue you!
“Joon hyung! I’m trying to tell you all something!” Jungkook whined, the addition of the term of respect alluding to Namjoon that he had been calling his name for a while. The guys had dropped the honorifics once they had disbanded, an effort to see each other on equal footing as friends, but the habit was especially hard to drop for the youngest. Namjoon chuckled at his friend with a nod as the rest of the band grumped at Jungkook to continue.
“So… the leak was actually good huh?” he commented, large eyes scanning the faces of the six men around him eagerly. For someone who was dead set against a comeback, it seemed that the sudden downpour of support from old and new fans alike had swayed Jungkook.
Jungkook was barely even a teenager when Dark and Wild launched, so it was no surprise that Shadows held a very big spot in his heart, multiple tattoos alluding to the fact. Namjoon remembered when a doe-eyed Jungkook had excitedly shown him his first fan letter, one that was still framed in his living room.
It was endearing to see him this excited about returning, but for all his plans, Namjoon felt guilty that the thing that convinced the members to pursue a comeback was not his and your hard work but a mistake. He felt uneasy, a clawing feeling in his chest making him feel as if he had forgotten something behind.
He knew it was you.
Somehow in the months of planning, you had become intertwined with his vision of a comeback. When he imagined picking songs for the album, he thought of your input. He imagined your name in the end notes of the cover. He imagined you in the studio during practice and in the wings at the first concert.
It wasn’t a comeback if you weren’t there to enjoy it with him. Even if you never wanted to talk to him again, he wanted to experience everything because you had so easily given him access to your time and your intelligence. Perhaps he should’ve never crossed that line. Perhaps he should’ve remained professional and not let his lonely heart fiddle with his brain.
“So wait… we all want to actually do this?” Jimin asked, the men continuing their discussion, oblivious to how Namjoon had once again reverted into his head. Everyone nodded along, except Seokjin who sat with a frown on his face.
“I don’t know… Go back to the limelight? Do you think we’re ready for that again?” he asked tentatively, his lower lip between his teeth. “It was a lot of pressure on all of us, all of our partners too.”
“We’re older now. We know our limits better now. We know ourselves better now,” Hoseok consoled quietly, slurring a little and sipping his drink, his face already flaring red from the alcohol. Seokjin laughed at the juxtaposition of Hoseok’s serious tone and sleepy eyes.
“Okay. If you can beat me at rock, paper, scissors, I’m in,” he joked holding up a fist as Hoseok squared up, much to the annoyance of the rest of the band.
“Why do we always have to do rock, paper, scissors for everything?” Taehyung bemoaned, leaning back on the couch staring at the ceiling with a huff as Jungkook coached Hoseok through whispers.
“Because democracy,” Seokjin grinned, chanting 'rock, paper, scissors’ before leaving his fist as is to signal rock just a few seconds after Hoseok showed his hand, paper.
“I won!” Hoseok gleed excitedly before stopping short and staring at his friends. “I won… We’re doing a comeback?”
“We’re doing a comeback,” Seokjin laughed, trying not to hint that he had agreed before the game even started, even when Yoongi smiled knowingly at him. “Good job, Joonie.”
Namjoon couldn’t help getting a little flustered at the sudden praise from his bandmate, his heart beating faster. He had waited so long for this, that it seemed surreal that it was happening. Standing up, he raised his glass to the middle, proposing a toast.
“Dark and Wild,” he cheered, the men echoing him as seven glasses clinked together.
Fuck, they were really doing a comeback, weren’t they?
—-------
When you had left Namjoon’s apartment two weeks ago, you were sure that you would never return. There was no reason to climb the gilded elevator to the cosy home, especially with the radio silence that had continued between the two of you. You were sure he still thought you were responsible for the leak and you should’ve been mad that he never tried to hear you out, but your empathy wouldn’t let you. It made sense with how guarded he was to assume the worst, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t hope that he would call you and make things right.
Waiting for the elevator, it wasn’t Namjoon that invited you back, but Moon. She had messaged you requesting your presence at her birthday and after Namjoon had explained how he tried to make each of her birthdays magical, there was no way you could refuse. You knew it would be awkward, stilted as you tried to go through a group of Namjoon’s friends and family, but you would hate it if you were the one who took away the magic of birthdays from a girl that always believed in them.
You watched the buttons light up as the elevator ascended, a set of drumsticks gift wrapped in your hands. Your nerves flared the closer you got to the penthouse and you laughed at how ridiculous you were being. Namjoon wasn’t even an ex, he was just a beginning that never led anywhere. If anything you should’ve been grateful that it never led to more. It would have broken you if it had. But you were strong, ready to impart your birthday greeting with a brave face and leave after ten minutes.
It was only ten minutes. You could do it.
However, when the doors opened to the apartment, you didn’t see the crowd you had been anticipating. There were no balloons in the living room, no music, no lights. Only Namjoon, seated at a table in the middle of the living room.
The couches and coffee table that usually occupied the space were absent. Instead there was a table with a white cloth draped over it and two chairs. A large dish of pasta sat on the surface, along with a basket of bread, place settings for two, and a bottle of wine chilling in a bucket. Candles on the table gave the room a soft glow, your heart stuttering as Namjoon walked over, biting his lip sheepishly and fiddling with his fingers.
“Hi,” he said, flushing as you looked up at him. Before you could answer, he was apologising. “I’m really, really sorry for being an idiot. I should have never blown up at you like that. That was fucked up and I’m really sorry.”
“Where’s Moon?” you asked, ignoring his apology, just to see him squirm a little more.
“Um… her birthday wish was for us to make up… So she’s at a sleepover with her friends.”
“Well… I got her a present,” you stated awkwardly.
“Oh! I can take it. Thank you,” Namjoon said, taking the present and placing it on the table before clearing his throat. “I’m serious. I’m really sorry, Y/N. I don’t care if you leaked the clip, I’m sure you had a plan and I was an idiot for not lis–.”
“I didn’t leak anything,” you cut him off quietly, watching how his eyes widened in response, a soft “what” escaping his lips. “I didn’t leak it. My roommate recorded us without me knowing. Well, ex roommate.”
“Fuck,” Namjoon breathed before laughing bitterly in disbelief. “I really am an asshole. Wow.”
“I get why you did that though. You had to protect yourself and Moon,” you defended his actions, but he didn’t let you, apologising once more before offering you a seat. When the two of you were settled, he told you about his past, about how other partners had scarred him, how he had somehow been hardwired into accepting the worst in people, and for the first time, you let him in too, sharing your fight with Hera.
“I’m a lawyer, Namjoon. I signed an NDA,” you replied, a finger tracing the wine glass in front of you. Namjoon’s sudden laugh startled you, your eyes meeting his as you watched him cover his mouth.
“Sorry but that’s what Moon said too,” he replied, the tension in the air melting at the comment and a smile lifting your lips.
“Smart daughter you got there,” you complimented, raising your glass. He clinked his own against it before taking a sip.
“That I do,” he easily agreed.
“Tell her that her birthday wish came true.”
“Wait really?” he asked with a grin he couldn’t control. “We made up?”
“If you still want to be friends, I’m okay with that. I’d like to be your friend, Namjoon,” you replied, confused as his smile dropped suddenly, his eyes leaving yours to his fingers that traced meaningless patterns against the tablecloth.
“Yeah, friends. I’d love to be your friend. Pasta?” he asked, holding up the bowl overflowing with aglio ollio, a stiff smile plastered on his face. You helped yourself to the food, commenting on the bright flavour as he admitted that he had learnt how to perfect the dish as it was Moon’s favourite, and basically the only thing that he could cook well. The conversation flowed stonely, awkward and even with the conclusion that you were friends, it felt stifled, like the two of you were playing a part in a play, small talk seeming scripted and wooden.
When the dinner came to an end, he protested you clearing the table but you stubbornly carried the plates to the kitchen, starting to wash them as Namjoon tried to stop you. He gave up halfway, content to watch you clean, your earlier words echoing in his head. I’d like to be your friend, Namjoon.
He didn’t want to be your friend though. He thought he did. He thought that he would be happy just to have you in his life at a safe distance, but the moment those words had left your lips it was like his stomach fell to the floor. He didn’t want to give you up. He missed you, missed that he had just indulged in you once, woke up next to you once before he had fucked it all up. And before he knew it, those words were escaping him.
“I don’t want to be friends.”
His words rang through you, the last plate you were rinsing slipping slightly from your fingers. You knew it would come to that eventually, that he would realise that it was almost pointless to be your friend. You had hoped it wouldn’t have happened this soon though. With a practised smile, you placed the plate onto the drying rack, wiping your hands on the dish towel stowed next to the sink, ready to take your leave.
“Oh… okay. Thanks for dinner then.”
But before you could move he was coming closer, a hand raised tentatively as he stared at your face, eyes roaming your features and lip tucked beneath his teeth.
“Don’t leave. I… I just… I don’t want to be friends.”
Your eyes met his as the meaning of the words registered slowly, hope blooming in your chest. It lit beneath your skin, coating you like honey, warm and sweet. But you still needed the assurance, “Then what do you want?”
“More,” he whispered, impossibly close now, the air between you sparking, nothing like the insulated tension from earlier. It was as if you could see it in front of it, golden glitter permeating in your vision, softly dispersing as he moved his hand till it was resting on your cheek, his thumb stroking the sparks into a fire.
When he leaned in, he moved slowly, the dark brown of his irises melting into his pupils as they searched yours for any hesitation. And then his lips moved, stealing your attention with their murmurs, “So much more.”
You lashes flickered on their own, eyelids closing seamlessly as his mouth gently met yours with the care you had come to expect of him. In the past months, you had learned that Namjoon cared wholeheartedly for everyone he deemed worthy. He gave his all – his strength, his weaknesses, his whole heart. And with his lips on yours he reminded you once again that you were one of those people he had decided to let in. There was no doubt left anymore as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.
Chest to chest, you could feel his heart beating against yours as his hands caressed your back as if testing the silk of your blouse before landing on your ass. Fingers squeezing the flesh, he moaned into your mouth eliciting one of your own, a sweet harmony once again united to string together. His body pushed against yours, his arousal impossible to hide as he pushed you against the counter, grinding into you slowly before he was picking you up and depositing you on the surface.
Your legs opened on their own, making space for him as he solidified his place in your heart. His lips migrated to your jaw, your heavy breaths the soundtrack to his journey down your body, each kiss leaving you thrumming and weightless, his long fingers unravelling each button with delicate care. With your shirt wide open, he took a moment to leave your skin to stare at you, the lacy red bra catching his attention before he haphazardly unbuttoned his own shirt, dropping it on the floor and wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you in a kiss that was no longer gentle but a frenzy.
His tongue wrestled with yours, his mouth swallowing each of your whimpers as he pushed your shirt off, his fingers tracing the lace and pulling it down to release your nipples so he could trace them with his thumbs. You could feel your heart race, your thighs tightening around him as lust flowed through you. It was as if he had your body memorised, knew where each nerve ending sparked into pleasure.
His teeth bit into your neck, blunt and delicious, making you keen before his lips wrapped around a nipple, tongue flicking in a way that made you see stars and dig your fingers into his scalp. You could feel his smile painted on your skin, your eyes seeing how his dimples would pop out in his cheeks even when they were closed. But you wanted more, so much more.
With a shove against his chest, he unlatched from you, staring at you in confusion before you were slipping off the counter and getting on your knees. He could feel the way his dick twitched at the position. He had never imagined you like this before and his mind screamed at him for such a blunder, but then again even he wasn’t creative enough to conjure an image as perfect as your eyes glistening up at him through your lashes, lips swollen from his kisses and hands unbuckling his belt at lightning pace. Before he knew it, his pants were halfway to his thighs, his boxers pushed along with them to reveal his cock.
He forgot to breathe when you smiled up at him radiantly, such an innocent look before you were licking up his length, fingers wrapped around him. You kissed against the head, your tongue circling the skin devilishly before your lips wrapped around him, suckling him slowly. You went deeper with each suck as if wanting to swallow him whole and Namjoon couldn’t keep his wits. How did he get this lucky?
With a large laugh that peetered out into a moan, he braced himself with his hands on the counter behind you, relishing the way your tongue traced his skin each time your head bobbled, turning him into a slow mush. Before he could stop himself, he thrust in your mouth, your moan vibrating around him in such delicious torture that he pulled back abruptly, too afraid to cum before he even got started.
Pulling you up by your hand, he crashed his lips on yours again, hands too eager to rip your pants off you as he wiggled out of his own. It was a silly dance, one that left you giggling in his mouth and had him chuckling back, euphoria bubbling through him.
When both your clothes were discarded, lost in his kitchen, he picked you up, letting you wrap yourself around him like a koala as he walked to his bedroom. He had dreamed of you back here, lost in his sheets as he lost himself in you and if there was one thing Namjoon did, it was go after his dreams.
Depositing you on to the bed he crawled between your legs, forgetting all about teasing to devour your arousal right from the source. A quick squeak left your lips as his tongue met your folds, flicking at your clit as he licked up your slit, stealing your breath. His hands roamed your thighs, eliciting goosebumps and whimpers, squeezing the flesh as his lips latched onto your clit. You were on the brink of your sanity, your vision clouding as he kept up his pulsating suckles. Your fingers wrapped around the sheets, pulling them from the corners as your back arched, hips canting against his face before he was holding them down, lapping at you furiously. His hands, his lips, his fingers all played a part in unravelling you, but it was when you looked down at him and caught the hunger in his eyes as he watched you squirm that made you explode, a loud whimper floating into the air at his unrelenting efforts.
He let you ride out your high before his lips let go, instead moving to kiss at your thighs, leaving little nibbles as they climbed up your body, from your stomach to your breasts to your neck, paying special attention to your tattoo, before he was kissing your lips once again, letting your tongue burst with your flavour.
“More?” he asked, his forehead against yours, his breath cooling your heated cheeks and you couldn’t help wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders, meeting his lips once again.
“So much more,” you echoed his earlier words, earning his dimples as he pecked your lips, once, twice and then once more before sitting up and reaching in his bedside drawer for a condom. His fingers were nimble, shaking a little from his excitement as he ripped it open and quickly rolled it on. Meeting you in another kiss, his forearms rested next to your head, his hips grinding into you.
Fingers caressing his back, you reached lower till your hand wrapped around his cock, guiding it slowly inside you. He entered leisurely, carefully stretching your walls, eyes gazing into yours, making you lose yourself in them. The two of you exhaled when he was fully buried inside you, the stillness of the room echoing around you as his fingers slowly moved your hair from your face.
The silence was broken first by your lips meeting eagerly and then by his hips leaving you only to slap back against yours in an intense thrust that led to your moans punctuating the sound. With each one of his strokes, his lips moved further away from yours, your breaths mingling with each other as you lost yourselves. It was ecstatic, the way his body moulded against yours, his chest cushioning you to the mattress, while your legs wrapped around him.
In all your years and all your relationships no one had felt this perfect, this quickly. How every cant of his hips brought you closer to your high, pulled out noises from your lips you had never imagined. He grunted along with you before the tightening of your walls compelled him to reach for your clit to prolong his pleasure more, to make you writhe around him more, to make your lips seek for his more. He met your desperation with his own, tongue meeting your teeth in a flurry as his abs clenched tighter, your thighs trapping him against you, your fingernails digging crescents into his ass.
Like a wave ebbing higher and higher, you wrapped yourself tighter around him, limbs locked in ecstasy before you crashed with a high-pitched whine of his name, your legs jerking with the sudden pleasure coursing through you in a rush. He moved faster, harder, keeping you suspended as his lips found yours again. Chanting your name in a stuttered whine, his high followed quickly after yours, leaving him breathless on top of you, his face buried in your neck.
When your heart had steadied, he leaned up, kissing you decadently, luxuriating in your taste, a gentle aftermath of the flurry from earlier. His fingers stroked your scalp, leaving behind content tingles that soothed you, your fingers mirroring his actions through his hair.
You had never felt so at peace.
When he had his fill of your lips, he stood up, admiring your body before pulling you with him into the shower. Slowly kisses under warm water never felt better, your hands indulging in his body, roaming over his sculpted chest and toned stomach.
“I missed you,” he confessed, arms around you as water flowed from him to you, both of you revelling in the warmth of the water, of the moment.
“I missed you, too,” you replied, standing on the tip of your toes to kiss his nose, enjoying the way the action made him blush and shyly hide his face with a giggle.
Dressed in his oversized t-shirt, you climbed into bed, watching as he tidied up, folding your clothes. It was an endearing habit, one he picked up from cleaning Moon’s toys when she was younger, too many legos under his feet a painful motivator. He pulled his phone from his pants pocket before climbing in next to you, his chest moulded to your back, long arms around you as he told you about different songs he had been working on. He didn’t have the strongest of vocals, but his low gruff was comforting, it’s unpolished notes a serenade as he scrolled through his demos, playing snippets.
“I might’ve been inspired by the night of your birthday for this one,” Namjoon admitted quietly as he played the next song, his face buried behind your shoulders. It was a fast beat, the bass notes popping with a fun melody, electronic drums bouncing along. But what truly made your heart flutter were the words, his husky voice singing them softly.
Too many words circle around me
But none of them feel how I feel
I just feel it
Like the moon rises after the sun rises
Like how fingernails grow
Like trees that shed their bark once a year
That you are the one who will give meaning to my memories
Who will make a 'person' into 'love'
You pouted as the song continued, a beautiful confession that had you turning in his arms to kiss him, too overwhelmed to do anything else. No one had ever written you a song, no one had ever expressed their feelings like this before, in a way that was almost bordering on magical. If your younger self knew that the lead of your fantasies would be singing you something he wrote solely for you, she would’ve passed out. The song ended with the chorus and a request.
You're my person, my person, my person
You're my desire, my desire, my desire
You're my pride, my pride, my pride
You're my love
One and only love
You know...
We were always meant to be...
Destiny...
I hope you feel the same with me..
“I do feel the same,” you murmured against his lips, kissing his smile as he pulled you closer, legs tangled with yours.
“Good because this is going in the album and it would suck if it didn’t make you smile every time I played it,” he teased, kissing your nose before you leaned away, looking at him confused.
“Album?”
“Comeback album. Dark and Wild’s back.” He grinned widely and even though usually you’d be distracted by his dimples, this time no matter how large your eyes got you couldn’t register them. Because in your head there was a childish giddiness you had thought you would never experience. Holding up a finger, you turned away from him to grab a pillow, screaming in excitement, limbs flailing as your adolescent dreams of a reunion came true. You knew it was going to happen but you never imagined how much the news would affect you.
Namjoon laughed, pulling the pillow from over your head and kissing you once more, your excitement making him even more eager for the comeback. He laid you on his chest as you asked him questions and he regaled the story of how the decision was made based on a game of chance and your roommate’s stupid actions.
“Thank you for helping me get my dream again,” Namjoon whispered, grateful that he had written to you and that you had responded.
He owed a lot to fate for whisking you into his arms.
—————
Epilogue
It was dark around you, but that was only because the lights on stage were so bright. Music boomed. Guitar riffs were clean even with their distortion. Drums were loud, cracking in the air. Hoseok’s growl echoed through your bones as you watched Dark and Wild perform, the sweet smell of manufactured smoke surrounding you. Yoongi did his signature move, licking up the fretboard of his guitar as Jimin grinned, lip between his teeth, and muted chords spilling from his amp. Right at the chorus, Seokjin kneeled on the ground, blowing a kiss to the audience as he played along, right when Taehyung started belting, licking his lips and letting the words float out of him. Jungkook played faster, increasing the tempo of the song just as his drum set was lifted into the air, spinning in circles, metres above the stage. You cheered loudly as the song ended, Namjoon looking for you in the wings and tossing a wink cheekily.
It was like being thrown back in time. It was surreal. Yet, it was so real.
Moon squealed next to you when Hoseok introduced her, a stark contrast to how she was tapping her drumsticks on her legs nervously a few minutes ago. “Good luck,” you whispered with a hug, and she squeezed you tight before running onto the stage in her ripped jeans and black tulle top, a grungy throwback to the outfits she used to wear as a kid.
Sitting on a second drum set, she waved to the crowd as Jungkook timed her in, the two setting off into a vicious solo together as Seokjin and Namjoon provided the background to the melodic dissonance. The crowd went wild, screaming at the top of their lungs, and you even saw someone throw their bra on stage, just like old times.
The show ended with the first song the band had ever released, War of Hormones. The lyrics were a little cringey with time, but the band laughed along as they played, bantering about how stupid their teenage selves were during the guitar solo. But you couldn’t help the tears in your eyes as you watched them perform, your face hurting from how hard you were smiling, your fingers wrapped around the pass on your neck.
Heart pounding in time with the bass, you watched the guys finish their last song to an earth shattering applause, the crowd going wild. It seemed that the floor was shaking with their stomps and claps.
Centre stage, the men took a bow, before Namjoon put Moon on his shoulders and the group recreated the photo they took on the last day of their tour before retiring. He made a stupid joke about his back hurting when he put her down, Moon returning her own quip about him being old as the audience laughed.
With their arms around each other, Hoseok spoke into the mic, beaming into the crowd.
“Thank you Shadows! We’ve been Dark and Wild and fuck it’s good to be back!”
-
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Strangers (Chapter Eight)
Strangers from Hell AU
Series Masterlist
pairing: ot7 x reader
genre: yandere, horror/thriller
word count: 5.2k
warnings (lmk if i missed anything!): murder, mature themes, obsessive/possessive behavior, emotional manipulation, stalking, bullying, violence, blood and injuries, mentions of attempted sexual assault (not by BTS), mc has some self-deprecating thoughts, mc is lowkey in denial.
The sounds of pots clanging and raised voices woke you from your peaceful slumber, bleary eyes blinking slowly at the light coming in from the window. You stared thoughtlessly at the dust particles floating around the room for a few moments before your memories from the night before came crashing back. Despite the shower you took, it still felt like his hands and mouth were on your skin marking you, tainting you. Shakily, you sat up in an attempt to distract yourself. Don’t let it get to you. You picked your phone up to check any notifications, freezing when you saw what time it was.
Shit. You were so distracted you forgot to set your alarm last night.
Scrambling around your room, you grabbed a few things to get ready before booking it for the door. In your haste to get to the upstairs bathroom, you found yourself colliding with a sturdy figure standing right outside your door.
“Woah, slow down there, YN.” You looked up to see Namjoon studying you with wide eyes.
“Sorry, I overslept.” You explained, trying to side-step him before he grabbed your arm to stop you.
“I already called your office and let them know you were taking a sick day. I didn’t think it would be a good idea for you to go today.” His deep voice explained so clearly, and yet you could only stare at him dumbfounded.
“Y-you called my office? Why would you do that?” You couldn’t help the confusion bleeding into your tone.
“I’m sorry, I know it was probably invasive of me to do that but I was just worried about you. I can’t imagine how you’re feeling after last night and I don’t want you to stress yourself out with work right now.”
“I... don’t even know what to say.” You’re not even sure how you feel right now, your mind already a jumble and this only adding to the pile.
“Why don’t you go wash up and come meet us in the kitchen? Breakfast should be ready by then.” He proposes, a strong hand meeting your shoulder and lightly pushing you towards where the stairs are. You numbly follow directions, feeling undermined in some way.
As you’re brushing your teeth, your mind can’t help but wander. Namjoon’s intentions seem to be good but it still feels violating the way he meddled in your life like that. Although, maybe it wasn’t just his doing. These boys seem to operate like a pack mind, always on the same page about stuff. If they hadn’t been so welcoming, you would have definitely felt like an outsider. On top of everything they had already done for you, they had really taken care of you last night. You don’t know where you would be right now if they hadn’t rescued you.
But, this feels like crossing a line. Even if you had missed work today with no warning, that is your problem. Not theirs. You appreciate them always being there for you but you would need to make it clear that there needs to be boundaries in this friendship.
You quickly wash and dry your face, eager to get down there and get this conversation over. It was still morning - maybe you could still try to come into work for a half day. Your stomach twists at the thought of Jiwan’s reaction to you coming in late. Or would she not say anything to you after yesterday?
Walking into the kitchen, your eyes land on a scene you have become quite accustomed to this past month. Yoongi was stirring something in a pot, brushing Namjoon’s hand off when he tried to suggest adding another ingredient. The first one to notice you is Seokjin, who is setting plates out on the table. His face brightens at the sight of you, full lips stretching into a heart-wrenching smile.
“Good morning, YNie. How do you feel?”
“Alright.” The word slips out without thought, your mind focused on something else entirely. “Namjoon, can I speak to you for a moment?”
“After you eat.” His tone leaves no room for argument, bringing a jug of water over to the table and motioning at one of the seats. “Sit.”
You feel your resolve slowly wither away at the sight of his back turned to you, as if he’s not worried about you following his instructions or not. That sense of authority in him irks you but you find yourself sitting anyway with a huff.
Soon after you are seated, Yoongi brings the pot to the center of the table. You can’t deny that the stew he made looks and smells delicious, the steam wafting out enticing you even more. Looking up at the others, you can’t help but notice Seokjin walking to the fridge with a small limp. You thought you had noticed it ever since he came back from his work trip, but weren’t sure if you were imagining things. At this point, it feels too awkward to bring up. Before you can linger on it too long, Namjoon’s voice distracts you.
“I think I know what you want to talk to me about. You’re feeling like I overstepped with your job.” He begins, filling a healthy serving of stew into a bowl before placing it in front of you. You’re stunned for a moment, feeling like he stole your argument before you could even voice it to him so you just nod. “It was out of line, I realize that and I’m sorry.”
He pauses and his eyes linger on your face before looking down at your bowl and back at you. Tentatively, you pick up your spoon and begin eating. He seems pleased at this, a small smile forming on his lips.
“I’ll admit I’m a bit overprotective of the people I care about, these two can attest to that.” Namjoon continues, dimples appearing in his cheeks as he chuckles at their eyerolls. “It’s all coming from a good place, I hope you know that. But, I promise it won’t happen again.”
You meet his eyes dead-on, a serious expression taking over his face as you do. The room falls silent in the midst of your staring contest, the others watching you two carefully before you finally speak up.
“I accept your apology.” It’s all you can think to say, not necessarily wanting to say that it was okay because it wasn’t. His gaze lingers on your face so you begin eating to avoid saying more, shifting your gaze back to the table.
After that, Seokjin makes attempts at light conversation, you and Namjoon humoring him with a few responses here and there. You’re not surprised that Yoongi never says a word, the introverted male was known to be quiet in most group settings. You can’t help but look back and forth at him and Namjoon sitting side by side, the image of them standing over that guy in the dark alley coming back into your mind. Had they killed him? And now here they were having breakfast with you as if it was a regular morning. They had done it to protect you, but did that make them better than that guy?
Mind swarming with thoughts of right and wrong and still feeling Namjoon’s dark eyes watching, you knew you had to get out of here. You needed to separate yourself from their mind games so you could think clearly. Just the other day you were calling these men your friends and now you couldn’t wait to get away from them. The irony of the situation was not lost on you.
“That was delicious, Yoongi. Thank you.” Gathering your dishes, you bring them over to the sink, ignoring the stares as you go. Your ears perk up at their hushed conversation but it’s too low to hear over the running water. When you’re finished, you turn to head back into the hallway with a meaningful step.
“Where are you going?” Namjoon calls out, but you can tell by his tone he probably already knows.
“Work.”
At your exit, the other boys look at Namjoon with concern on their faces. He raises his hand at them with a serious expression as if to silence them, his eyes never leaving where your figure was last seen in the doorway.
“Are we losing her?” Yoongi can’t stop himself from asking, his normally-aloof persona cracking.
“No, I don’t believe so.” Namjoon’s low voice is strong and sure of himself, “She’s slipping. I can see it.”
*****
In your haste to get out of there, you had barely taken the time to make yourself presentable. Throwing on whatever looked decent enough and remembering to pack your heels, you took one glance in the mirror before calling it. You didn’t even care that you weren’t wearing makeup and you hoped it would work in your favor since your apparent ‘sickness’ was the reason you couldn’t come in this morning.
Stepping outside, you looked up at the overcast sky that was a stark contrast from the previous bright sunny days. There was a certain mugginess in the air that told you a storm was approaching, not that uncommon for this time of year. You made a mental note to pick up an umbrella later as you power-walked to the bus stop. Part of you wanted to just give in and call a cab but the stress from your mother’s recent call wouldn’t allow you to do it. With the way taxi rates were going these days, you’d probably end up spending whatever money you had left over for the month on the fare alone.
Upon entering your floor, you were instantly reminded of the way you had left the previous day as a few stared at you with raised brows. Still, you held your head high as you made your way to your desk in an attempt to not let it get to you. And for the most part it didn’t, until you walked by a small table with Jiwan and a few other co-workers. You averted your gaze, making a beeline to your desk.
“I thought you were sick.” Jiwan’s sharp eyes were fixed on you, utter detest in her stare.
You didn’t bother to respond or even look back, instead settling into your desk and turning your computer on. In a rather pointed way, you dug through your purse to retrieve a face mask you kept in there. Huffing, you pulled it over your face and focused your attention back on starting work. There, now shut the fuck up.
Nayeon arrived at some point, much to your surprise, seemingly done with her busy week of meetings. She seemed just as taken aback to see you if her wide-eyed look said anything, probably not expecting you to come in as well since you were supposed to be sick. You perked up at the sight of her, hoping it would entice her to come over and say hello. Someone with a stack of papers intercepted her, though, and she quickly invited them to her office to continue the conversation. Sighing dejectedly, you returned your attention to your queue. Hopefully you’d catch her later today.
Hours ticked by and you found yourself almost done with your work despite your late start. Leaning back in a stretch, your eyes fell back on Nayeon’s closed office door. This wasn’t super uncommon for a work day as she had an even busier schedule than you, being one of the head executives of the company. But, even still, she’d usually pop by your desk to invite you for a cup of coffee when you both needed a break or at the very least would wave at you from across the room if she was heading to the conference room for a meeting.
Sure, you could have just worked up the courage to go to her office but for some reason you were getting the impression that she was avoiding you. She had barely left her office and when she did, she wouldn’t look up from her phone as she fast-walked to whatever room she was headed to.
Checking the time, you figured you had time to kill before the day was over so you got up to grab a drink. The kitchen was empty when you entered so you were left with your own thoughts as you grabbed a disposable cup for tea. Holding it under the hot water dispenser to fill, you caught someone else joining the room from your peripheral vision.
“Looking for your bestie?” You didn’t even have to turn your head to know who it was, bracing yourself for the incoming unpleasant encounter. “She’s not here.”
“What?”
“I saw you looking at her office before. You must have missed her leaving when you were busy trying to figure out how to make an excel sheet.” The snide remark leaves her mouth so perfectly it had to have been practiced. “It looked to me like she was avoiding you. Maybe she finally realized how much of a burden you are.”
You turned to her fully now, gripping the cup in your hand so tight you’re surprised it didn’t burst. Her gaze flickers to the crinkling paper in your first, the corner of her mouth quivering in amusement.
“What? Can’t handle a little criticism?” She mockingly pouts, “I’m just trying to help you, honey.”
Just like that, your strong exterior crumbles and memories of your attacker come flooding back in. Hands gripping you, tugging at your hair and clothes, lips brushing your skin and teeth biting down. That word triggers something inside of you, a feeling so dark and twisted it had to have been buried so deep that you forgot it was even there. All you know now is you’re seeing red and Jiwan is suddenly standing too close.
A pained shriek is what breaks you out of the daze you had suddenly fallen under, blinking in confusion as you see Jiwan still standing there with a big wet stain on her shirt that you didn’t notice before. Then, your gaze shifts to the angry red marks forming on her exposed chest and neck area and finally, to the empty cup in your grasp.
“FUCK!” You can’t help but wince at the loud screech and wait for the inevitable crowd to come join you both. They do and you find yourself backing away, a shaky hand throwing the cup in the trash as if that would save your ass now. “You crazy bitch!”
Jiwan is gasping in pain as the others are surrounding her in concern and you briefly wonder if she’s playing up the theatrics to get more sympathy. You wouldn’t put it past her. With all the attention on her, you slowly start to back up towards the exit hoping you could slip away undetected.
“Where the fuck are you going?” Jiwan’s poisonous gaze tracks you moving towards the door, wide with a vengeful fury. “Come back here!”
A few of your co-workers try stopping you or asking what’s wrong as you make a beeline for the stairs, not even bothering to wait for the elevator. You’re surprised you don’t trip as you fly down the several flights of stairs, your chest heaving painfully in a panic. When you finally make it to the bottom and bust out the door, you stumble onto the sidewalk as a wave of nausea comes over you. You barely have time to find an empty alleyway to spill your guts into, the events of the last few minutes catching up to you before you can even process.
It was too much. It was all too much.
*****
You had been wandering the city streets for hours, trying to figure out what to do. You were for sure fired, there was no doubt about it. Your phone had been buzzing on and off in your purse for a while but you couldn’t bring yourself to look at it, scared to see who it was from. Heart racing and hands shaking, you leaned against a nearby brick wall to catch your bearings. People were milling about, probably leaving work and heading home or going out to celebrate the weekend being here. To think, that could be you right now if you had just kept your emotions in check.
If only you had listened to your mother, maybe you wouldn’t be in this position right now. You should have paid attention to the signs. She told you to let her know if those feelings started coming back. You were too lost in your need to prove yourself that you could do this and that you weren’t the same person before. Now, you know. That anger lived inside you forever.
A shuffling behind you caused you to turn and look at the alley behind you. You caught a flurry of movement that was gone before you could really register it, too distracted by your own thoughts. Stepping away from the alley and walking back towards the busy streets, you found yourself humorlessly chuckling to yourself. Namjoon had been right. It really wasn’t a good time for you to come in to work today.
At some point, your phone had started buzzing incessantly, much to your annoyance. In a huff, you pulled it out to finally turn it off, not wanting to be bothered by anyone right now. But, when you caught the name on the called ID, you paused.
“Jihoon?”
“YN! Where the fuck are you?” Your boyfriend’s voice was rushed and out-of-breath.
“Um,” You looked around at your surroundings, not recognizing any buildings. “I’m not really sure.”
“You haven’t been answering your phone! I was so worried, I’ve been looking for you everywhere.”
“I’m sorry, I’ve been a bit distracted.” Your voice sounds strange to your ears, mind processing things a bit slower. “Where are you?”
“I’m at your place. Can you meet me?” He speaks clearly to you, trying to keep you talking to him. “Get a taxi if you can.”
“I can’t afford it.”
“I’ll pay. Just get here as soon as you can.”
Your mind let your body go on autopilot as you found yourself hailing a cab. After telling the driver the address, you stared out the window as the buildings and city lights passed in a blur. You looked up at the sky, noting the dark clouds hovering ominously.
The ride was over before you knew it, the man in the driver’s seat looking at you expectantly as you tried to remember how you were going to pay him. Before you could say anything, you door was ripped open and your boyfriend’s face appeared there. In the same move, he pulled you out and handed the man some cash. You stood there, looking up at him in surprise. Jihoon had never been to your place before. Seeing him here was strange for some reason.
“Nayeon told me everything. God, you must have been so freaked out.” He pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as you stood there limp. You couldn’t speak, too frozen by his words.
“I had no idea you were feeling this way again. Why didn’t you tell me?” He leaned back to look down at you, his eyebrows furrowed in concern.
“I-” You opened your mouth to speak, but nothing could come out. Your mind just felt blank.
“Come on, let’s go get your things. You’re staying with me tonight.”
Jihoon led you back inside and the situation felt so funny to you. He walked up the stairs as if he knew his way around the place, arm over your shoulder as if he was showing you the way. You were too busy looking at the side of his face to notice the person standing in the hallway watching you both.
“YN.” You looked up to see Jungkook with an unreadable expression on his face. It was the most serious look you had ever seen on him.
“Jungkook?” The surrealness of the situation was slowly sobering you up, feeling as if you were coming out of the daze you had been in earlier. “Are you okay?”
He didn’t respond and Jihoon didn’t care to wait, instead ushering you along past your roommate whose eyes were glued to the arm around your back. When you reached your door, you peeked at your boyfriend curiously to gauge his reaction to the place. His gaze swept across the dimly lit corridor showcasing the walls and floors that looked like they hadn’t been cleaned in years. You had gotten used to living here but for some reason, under your boyfriend’s judgemental eye, you felt embarrassed.
“Why don’t you wait in the kitchen? I’ll be quick,” You angle your head further down the hallway, not wanting him to see the tiny quarters you called your room. He probably thought you were crazy living here. Maybe you were.
He looks unsure for a moment, whether he didn’t want to leave you alone or he himself didn’t want to be alone you didn’t know. But he eventually agreed, nodding before turning back in the direction you motioned to.
You weren’t lying when you said you would be quick. Something about your boyfriend wandering around in this place put you on edge, like you didn’t want him to see anything he shouldn’t. Grabbing as many clean clothes as you can, you shove them into a bag before picking up a few other essentials. You avoided looking in the mirror by your door, not wanting to see your reflection after this day. You already knew you looked like a wreck.
The silence that met you when you came out of your room irked you. Speed walking to the kitchen with your bags in hand and a racing heart, you didn’t know what to expect but it surely wasn’t what you found.
Jihoon was sitting at one of the tables, a cup of tea before him and a few of your other roommates sitting with him. Jimin, Taehyung, and Yoongi all crowded around him looking as if they were parents meeting their daughter’s boyfriend for the first time. Something stirred in your chest seeing them all sitting together. Your worlds were colliding and you didn’t know how you felt about it.
“There you are.” The smile on Jimin’s face didn’t quite meet his eyes as he beckoned you over. “We were just getting to know Jihoon here.”
You walked over to them, timidly taking the seat beside Jihoon whose face was hard to read. He seemed mostly calm, but his eyes were betraying his emotions as they darted back and forth to all your roommates. He was probably trying to read them, just like they were doing to him.
“Y’know it’s funny, YN hasn’t mentioned you much.” Taehyung broke the silence, reaching for a sugar cube from the tray and popping it into his mouth.
“Tae,” You looked at him with wide eyes, willing him to shut his mouth to which he only widened his own eyes back mockingly before sending you a playful grin.
“No, it’s okay.” Jihoon turned to look at you with a small smile before directing his attention back to Taehyung. “She hasn’t mentioned you guys at all.”
“Probably because you don’t spend enough time with her.” Yoongi shot back, causing your jaw to drop. Since when did he pay attention to your lovelife? You shook your head, looking at Jihoon whose calm facade was starting to break.
“Excuse me?”
“What my roommate here is trying to say is that we’ve gotten close with YN during her time here and it appears that you don’t really know how to take care of her.” Your eyebrows raise at this, feeling like you should step in but wanting to see what Jihoon would do.
“You’ve known my girlfriend for a month and you think you know what she needs?” Jihoon responds defensively, shifting in his seat.
“Is that surprising? We spend more time with her than you do. She’s lived here for a month now and this is the first time I’m seeing you here.” The playful look on Taehyung’s face from before is gone now, replaced with a dark expression taking over his features.
“You know what-” Jihoon stands up, clenching his fists. The other three quickly mirror him, you right behind them. You step closer to Jihoon, grabbing his shirt in an attempt to ground him.
“C’mon, let’s just go.” Jihoon breaks his staredown with them to look down at you and the shakiness in your vision. Whatever he saw makes him concede, reaching down to grip the hand on his shirt and hold it tightly. He pulls the two of you out of the room, grabbing your bags and not bothering to look back.
You risk a glance over your shoulder to see the three of them gazing at you with somber faces, their burning stares causing you to quickly turn back around. You can’t exactly pinpoint what emotion you felt from leaving them - was it shame? Fear? Sadness?
“I don’t want you staying here anymore.” Jihoon says flatly once the two of you exit the building, slipping his phone out of his pocket to book a taxi.
“Where else can I go? This was all I could afford, and now...” You couldn’t even bring yourself to finish that sentence. What would you tell your mother? She was depending on you for money and you most likely just lost your income.
“We’ll figure it out. For now, you can stay at my place until you get back on your feet.” Jihoon almost sounds like he’s trying to convince himself that it will work and you look at him skeptically.
“Are you sure? I don’t want to be a burden,” You murmur, fingers curling around his arm.
“You’re not a burden. I’m your boyfriend, I’m supposed to take care of you.” You’re silent as you ponder over his words. He is acting a lot more thoughtful and considerate than usual.
When the taxi arrives, Jihoon opens the door to let you in before sliding in after you. He squeezes your palm in assurance, causing you to look down at your entwined hands and notice how strange they suddenly looked together. The two of you had held hands countless times but right now, it just felt so alien. That thought scared you because Jihoon was supposed to be the one person in the city you felt safest with.
You feel an urge to tell him what almost happened to you last night. He’s your boyfriend so you should tell him, right? It would be weird to keep it from him. But, before you can open your mouth to voice it, he breaks the silence.
“Nayeon’s meeting us there.” Jihoon’s words cause you to look at him in surprise, his eyes trained on his phone screen that he was tapping away at.
“You told her?” You shrank back, a strange feeling pooling in your gut that you tried to ignore.
“She was worried about you.” He finally looked up at you, tucking his phone into his pocket and leaning back with a sigh.
Your anxious mind distracts you for the rest of the car ride before you find yourself in Jihoon’s neighborhood. Once outside his apartment, you realize you have never seen his place before. Before you can think too much on it, you notice Nayeon making her way over from further down the sidewalk.
“There you guys are!” Nayeon’s voice calls out, earning a few stares from other people standing on the sidewalk near you. Her slender legs carry her over to where you both are in no time. You could only stare as she fussed with her purse for a moment before sliding her hands into her air with a huff. “God, YN, you sure have some explaining to do.”
“I-”
“I mean I know I told you I was proud of you for going off on her before but damn... I didn’t think you would do this.” She paused to give you a wide-eyed look, causing you to drop your gaze to your ground. “What were you thinking?”
“I wasn’t thinking. She was always in my face and I don’t know, I just... snapped.” It would be so easy to just tell them what happened last night and maybe then they would understand your current state of mind. But for some reason, you can’t bring yourself to say it - not wanting to deal with their worried looks or impending questions. Upon noticing your averted gaze, Jihoon reaches for your hand again and squeezes it comfortingly. You shoot him a thankful smile, stepping closer to him.
Nayeon’s eyes are trained on your joined hands, looking deep in thought as she speaks again, “Are you going back to the residence tonight, YN?”
“No, I don’t think I’ll be going back there for some time.”
“I didn’t like the vibe of that place.” Jihoon adds, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you stayed there that long.”
“They weren’t always that bad. I mean, we were actually friends at one point but lately it feels like I’ve seen another side to them.” You explain, feeling their eyes urging you to continue. “I should have listened to Soomi when she warned me. There’s just something off about them.”
“Are you sure you’re not just being sensitive, you know, after everything?” Nayeon asks, raising her eyebrow curiously. “I mean, you’ve been so stressed with work and moving to a new city can make you feel that way. I feel like every residence has its case of bad roommates.”
“I don’t have anything to compare it to but something just feels wrong. I feel like they’re getting under my skin.”
“Well, where will you stay then?”
“With me.” Jihoon answers.
“Really?” Nayeon seemed surprised at that, gaze switching to Jihoon. “Don’t you have roommates?”
“Yeah, but I don’t think they’ll mind.” At his shrug, Nayeon seems unconvinced.
“Don’t you think it’ll be a bit crowded? I mean, after the time YN’s had, I think she’d probably want some peace.” Nayeon spoke, bringing her hand to her chin in thought. “Why don’t you stay in a hotel for a couple days, YN? At least until you find a better place to move in.”
You missed the way Jihoon leveled her with a look as you stared at her thoughtfully. “I mean it would be nice but I can’t really afford it right now.”
“I’ll pay.” She responds without hesitation.
“Are you sure?” Now, you were really confused. Why was she so adamant about you staying in a hotel? Maybe she was just really worried for your wellbeing.
“Of course.” She smiles at you warmly, reaching forward to grasp your arm and pull you toward her. In doing so, your hand is ripped from Jihoon’s but she doesn’t seem to notice. “You deserve some time to yourself to reflect on what to do next.”
“I don’t know how to thank you,” You murmur, feeling guilty for causing her so much trouble when she was the one who helped get you in this position after all. Why couldn’t you just keep your emotions in check?
“No need. Let’s get you somewhere comfortable.”
taglist: @min-mingii @micheleinumaki @potaetopic @namjinieesope @mageprincess7 @minshookie29 @outro-kook @nikipedia07 @axniyx @kittykatfey @peaceout97 @kurodach @bex-tk1 @sa7kou @purpuravm @doublebunv @amylouisecullen @rossemayme @unsureofwhathappens @sleepy-time-dreamy @anushaackerman @shyloh-the-cornsnake @toughbook @urbanbts @carpioassists @millenniumspec @maliyachan @lovely247 @croctears @uarmyhore @shadoweepingscream @inlovewiththehpcast
A/N: i know i said this would be here before the wknd but i underestimated how exhausted my new job would be. so here it is finally *unedited* bc i worked over 50hrs this week and i’m slightly hungover🥴 lmk what you think pls!!
#bts fanfic#bts fanfiction#yandere fanfic#yandere fanfiction#yandere x reader#yandere kpop#yandere bts#yandere namjoon#yandere seokjin#yandere yoongi#yandere hoseok#yandere jimin#yandere taehyung#yandere jungkook#yandere#yandere bts x reader#yandere bts x yn#kpop fanfic#kpop fanfiction#bts x reader#bts x yn#strangers from hell au
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New AU Idea (Dang it, I'm already working on Shackled Revelations----)
So, I've seen several Kieranpon AUs, a few Kieranrunts and Terapagos Kieran AUs. So, that actually got me thinking, since Kieranpon can literally transform into a humana and back. That got me thinking:
IT STARTED WHEN AN ALIEN DEVICE DID WHAT IT DI-
Ok, in all seriousness, I wanted to make a Ben 10 crossover AU with Pokemon for quite some time and I feel that this is the perfect time. So, long story short, Kieran found the Omnitrix when he was 8, and the usual happens like what happened in the Classic Ben 10 series. However, he took the Omnitrix off when he was 10 and only took it back on when he was I guess 13? So, he has some kind of protective instinct to reach to his left wrist when he gets bullied. He does do training with his main team. This all takes place before the DLC.
However, 8 months before it starts, Kieran got a message from his father about the Highbreed Invasion (Basically, beginning of Alien Force Arc) and not put on the Omnitrix since he has it, but Kieran's confused as the Omnitrix is in his room back at Mossui Town, during the Teal Mask DLC, he immediately bolted to his room. Where he keeps a box containing memorabilia, and he finds his Omnitrix. Carmine, who obviously knows about it, is worried and concerned about. he does encounter Albedo and some familiar foes. I'll explain more in depth stuff next time. But this is all I have for now. I really wanna show you his design, but I'm terrible at drawing so, yeah.
Now, since in its canon alternate timelines exist in Ben 10, I figured that Kieran does canonically enter alteante timelines either by accident or by Professor Paradox. Specifically, Toxic Chain Possession AUs. Namely, Project Venus, Toxic Consequences and Bridged Toxicity. Mainly because I helped work on some of them so I figured it would maybe be ok, PV as I contributed several ideas. TC for the name and Kieran's corrupted team idea and BT just for the name. So, maybe.
If you wanna know more about the AU, we could. But not now, well, what are your thoughts and opinions on this AU? and that's all I have folks. And remember, the journey through the Kieran-verse is just beginning...
#pokemon scarlet and violet#project venus: mystery of the indigo disk#toxic consequences au#bridged toxicity au#Pokemon kieran#rival kieran#Kieran pokemon#trainer kieran#Kieran has the omnitrix#The little kid is now a hero of his story#Wowzers!
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𝐑𝐔𝐋𝐄𝐒 + 𝐈𝐍𝐅𝐎
[ ⭐ ] — My Fav to Write
[ 🌞 ] — Newly Added
𝐈𝐍𝐁𝐎𝐗 & 𝐑𝐄𝐐𝐔𝐄𝐒𝐓
Maximum of 4 Characters per request.
Characters can be in different fandoms too.
GN!Reader by default unless you specified the gender.
If you are able to come up with a title with your request then feel free to suggest (I suck at making titles)
I'll try to write all characters in each fandom, but if I don't like the character I have the right to ignore it.
My inbox is always open for suggestions, memes or simply to chat. I'm down with it.
𝐅𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐎𝐌𝐒 𝐈 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄
ANIME
Naruto Shippuden ⭐
Bleach
Fairytail ⭐
Inuyasha
Death Note ⭐
Attack On Titan ⭐
One Piece
Bungou Stray Dogs ⭐
Jujutsu Kaisen
Demon Slayer
BNHA/MHA
SPY x FAMILY
Haikyuu! ⭐
Hunter X Hunter ⭐
Assassination Classroom
Classroom of the Elites ⭐
Tokyo Revengers ⭐
High Rise Invasion
Owari no Seraph
Balance Unlimited
Dr. Stone
Toilet Bound Hanako
Black Clover ⭐
SK8 Infinity
Tokyo Ghoul
Code Geass
Vanitas no Carte
Blue Exorcist
Black Butler ⭐
Danganropa
Fruits Basket
The Seven Deadly Sins
Darling on the Franxx
Angel of Death ⭐
God of High School
Kakegurui
Yuri! On Ice
Vampire Knight
Noblesse
Howl's Moving Castle
Norn 9
Chainsaw Man
Blue Lock
Moriarty the Patriot ⭐
Record of Ragnarok 🌞
MANHWA
Father, I Don't Want to Get Married ⭐
Who Made Me A Princess ⭐
Into the Light Once Again ⭐
How to Get My Husband on my Side
The Villainess Is A Marionette ⭐
Death is the Only Ending for the Villainess ⭐
The Villainess Reverses the Hourglass
Roxana: The Way to Protect the Female Lead's Brother ⭐
Beware of the Villainess
Of All Things, I Have Become A Crow
Heart Throbbing Conqueror
Survive as the Hero's Wife
Under the Oak Tree ⭐
A Symbiotic Relationship Between A Black Panther and A Rabbit
Elixir of the Sun
Inso's Law
Wake Up, Warrior ⭐
I've Become the Wife of the Male Lead / Author of my Life
The Song of Theodor / The Lady and The Lion ⭐
I Became the Wife of the Monstrous Prince ⭐
Three Brothers / Kim Brothers
A Way to Protect the Lovable You ⭐
The Princess Imprints A Traitor / Revolutionary Princess Eve
My Husband Hides His Beauty
Lady Baby
The Young Miss I Serve Became A Young Master
Cinderella Wasn't Me
The Newlywed Diary of A Witch and A Dragon
Actually, I Was The Real One
Trash of the Count's Family ⭐
I Have Become The Hero's Rival
A Night With the Emperor
My Three Tyrant Brothers
Honey, I'm Going On A Strike
WEBTOON
Omniscient Reader
Unholy Blood ⭐
Tower of God
To You, Who Swallowed A Star
Lookism ⭐
Eleceed ⭐
The World After the Fall
Weak Hero
Jungle Juice
Teenage Mercenary ⭐
The Remarried Empress
Eaternal Nocturnal
Viral Hit / How To Fight ⭐
Study Group
Villain to Kill
Doom Breaker
Your Throne ⭐
Get Schooled
When Jasy Whistles
Academy's Undercover Professor
Like A Wind On A Dry Branch
Nice to Meet You
Seasons Of Blossom ⭐
Purple Hyacinth
See You in My 19th Life ⭐
My Gently Raised Beast
Men of The Harem
Secret Playlist
Shadow Bride
Mystic Prince / Prince of Myolyeong ⭐
VIDEO GAMES
Mystic Messenger
Genshin Impact ⭐
Twisted Wonderland
Tears of Themis ⭐
Obey Me ⭐
Wizardess Heart
Resident Evil
Detroit: Become Human
Ensemble Stars
Honkai: Star Rail ⭐
Baldur's Gate 3 🌞
MISCELLANEOUS
Dream SMP
BTS
Harry Potter
Avatar: The Last Airbender
Star Wars ⭐
LOTR / The Hobbits
Hazbin Hotel ☀️
𝐘𝐄𝐒, 𝐈 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄
HEADCANONS
ONE-SHOT
DRABBLE
SERIES ⭐
CROSSOVER ⭐
FLUFF
HURT to FLUFF ⭐
ANGST ⭐
SLIGHT SUGGESTIVE
AU / ALTERNATE UNIVERSE
PLATONIC RELATIONSHIP ⭐
𝐍𝐎, 𝐈 𝐃𝐎𝐍'𝐓 𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄
NSFW
TOXIC RELATIONSHIP
PEDOPHILE
EXTREME YANDERE
ABUSIVE THEMES
@otakuworks
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Masterlist 28
(*****)= suggestive
General
FAVORITES (all)
SO turns bitty for a week (hf ff ss sf)
dancing in your pjs (papyrus, star lilac jupiter)
kiss attack!!! (tt ot bt )
SO feels safe in their arms (ft ff hf sf ss)
someone accidentally sends a ton of money to his account
SO blinks like a lizard (us uf + mafias)
SO has a business making sex toys******
which (non virgins) haven't been with a human*****
waking up to doggy kisses (willow pitch sails)
stepkid says i love you for the first time
SO purrs when they see him
getting the least judgy guys to judge you (pop sails peaches fisher ram)
chubby SO (ft ff fs)
getting turned into an animal they hate
wiz sib wants to ask out their crush (papyrus, honey, mal, uf, ht)
SO is a nude model for an art school**
thoughts on travel (all)
advice they'd give their younger self (ls lf mafias)
aftercare (lf ss sf gt nt)******
SO has a miscarriage
SO gets in a car accident and is at the hospital (ut mt ms ul ls)
when his bro has a crush (nt fsr ot)
attachment styles (all)
rich SO tries to spoil him (ht hf hs hfm)
giving his bum a nice pat (peaches honey jupiter jasper cricket quill)
SO sends him a naughty picture (fot tt bt)****
SO leaves little love notes for him (lf ss sf gt nt)
tag you're it! (sans pluto G lens)
SO telepots his bro on a boat to propose (sans star red mal oak lord hook)
alien invasion (ul fot gt)
he accidentally hurts SO (ft ff fs)
date gets vertigo (ft ff fs)
bros reaction to taking in wiz sib (ut us sf)
bro think his SO is cheating (ut uf us fsg ht)
royals for a day (ut fsg ot)
stranger saves their life (st ss sf lf ls)
making stuffed animals kiss (st sf ss of nt)
SO cant say dish soap
favorite dairy products (all)
he wakes up to a stranger staring at him
clingy SO
if they weren't farmers (ft ff fs hfm)
interactions/poly hcs
the beef between the farm and farmswap bros
if oak and peaches were together
Worldbuilding
cat monster traits
trailrunners
shroomsnails
more magical plants/crops
fillerblot (jerry)
ebott specific careers
ALL BIRTHDAYS
famine aus struggle with babies*
cat allergies and cat monsters
human to monster first aid
stars curse
fae
The Mafias
ace's talents
bruisers talents
ace fun facts
Farmtale
ranchers talents
rosemarys talents
yosemites talents
peaches fun facts
rancher fun facts
Horrorfarm
moose and maples parents
Farmfell
rams talents
pitch talents
pitch and rams parents
Fellswap gold
wines talents
coffees talents
fluffy coffee
Fallouttale
some lens fun facts
lens talents
Seatale
fishers talents
jaspers talents
fisher fun facts
fisher fun facts 2
lustswap
sparks talents
lustfell
peppers talents
fluffy lush
Nomadtale
compass talents
Horrortale
oak fluffy facts
Underswap
stars crazy police stories
Gastertale
green relationship
where you can find green
Underfell
edge relationship
Horrorfell
noir relationship
noir fun facts
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Carnation 💜 Chapter 1
PAIRING: idol!Jin x OC
SUMMARY: In early 2018, BTS were at a crossroads: after working so hard to set foot in the music industry of South Korea, their sudden jump into stardom became something they never anticipated. Jin believed in his dongsaengs but was just as lost as them when his soulmate entered the picture.
WORD COUNT: 3.3k (Total: 25.3k)
GENRE: Soulmate AU, s2l
RATING: Teen (for drinking, cussing and tension)
WARNINGS: mild angst for talks of disbanding and burnout
(You can also read it on AO3, originally posted June 2023)
A.N. I have this poll I've been meaning to do about my soulmate series and to do so, I thought I should probably introduce those stories first 😅😋Jin's story is the first of the Soul Palette Series though it serves as a prequel to Call You Mine. I'm thinking of uploading each story's 1st chapter to give you all a taste 😋
Masterlist | Scroll my stories on Tumblr | Schedule and WIPs
“ARMY! I remember early this year. We were mentally struggling at the beginning of the year. While talking amongst ourselves, we even considered disbanding. I’m relieved that we got ourselves together and were able to bring good outcomes. I want to thank our members who helped me get myself together and the ARMYs who love us. Thank you so much. ”
Jin, MAMA, 2018
January 3rd 2018
“It’s hard… It’s really hard.”
Jimin’s words were lost in the silence of the room as the seven Bangtan members looked either at the floor or at nowhere in particular while they went over everything that had been said.
Jungkook never knew anything else but that life with his brothers and had stated very clearly that he wanted to fight until he couldn’t breathe or move anymore. His passion was only matched by his perseverance because they all knew how hard he had it, how tough it was, and the sacrifices he had to make growing up totally lined up for that life only. It didn’t make the others feel particularly better, but they understood his feelings.
Taehyung was teary-eyed and looking at a random place on the wall. He was quiet, he had the tendency to turn inwards when he was facing something extremely difficult. He admitted he was unhappy with the constant pressure that sometimes felt like a gag, with the continual invasion of privacy, with the lack of control over what the future looked like.
Jimin understood his feelings and agreed. He pointed out the only silver lining — the ARMYs who supported them unconditionally and had done so from the start.
“It feels somehow… like a failure, to disappoint them like this,” Yoongi had quietly answered then. “Because we fought so desperately to be worthy of their love, and now that it’s getting so big… it risks being too much.”
“I feel so ungrateful, seriously,” Hoseok had said in contempt of himself, hiding his face.
“They would understand,” Namjoon said.
Their leader was sitting on a table, stiff body clearly physically fighting that difficult topic with all its might. He would usually give them the stability they needed but at the expense of his own insecurities and doubts.
Yoongi had expressed he wanted to make music, purely and simply. “After all this time… I can’t see myself without BTS. We’re family, you are family to me.”
“Ah seriously,” Hoseok complained, cleaning his tears as were all others, to one degree or another.
“Hyung,” Taehyung complained.
“You choose to tell us your heart right now?” Jimin added, cleaning his eyes.
“Of course right now, keep going Yoongi,” Jin enthused, and Yoongi nodded with a small smile.
“My heart… would be incomplete without you guys. It would get lonely, in the studio too. My music… would get quiet without you guys. But I won't pressure you, because you’re so precious to me. I just want you to be happy.”
“Hyung—” Jungkook’s voice vanished in tears.
“We’re happy by your side,” Taehyung cried, hiding his face.
“We’re family, that will never change,” Namjoon declared, sniffling right after.
“But can we keep giving a perfect performance?” Hobi’s jaw was a firm line as he suppressed his emotions to be able to ask them clearly. “Can we keep this up? Because I’m not sure what I fear most: disappointing ARMYs, or disappointing ourselves.”
“It’s hard… It’s really hard.”
And now, there they were, staring at each other quietly. Until Jin decided to smile and say something, seeing that even Namjoon was stumped in his own thoughts.
“We should all sleep on it and not decide anything immediately. We started this together, we can decide this together. Tomorrow we can talk better about this.”
“But… we’re not disbanding, right?” Jungkook asked, voice shaking as he eyed his hyungs anxiously.
“No.”
“No, we’re not,” Hobi smiled.
“We’re talking and we should think about this. Jin-hyung is right,” Namjoon said, getting up. “We can think of ways that could make this work and of how to better ourselves. If we decide to disband, it won't be for lack of trying to figure this out.”
Every member got up except for Jin, who stayed behind sitting on a chair while everyone passed by him, and Namjoon, who heaved a deep breath and hid his face, the pressure finally cracking through. Jin could read his tension and stress like one reads the time on a clock, and as usual, he felt for Namjoon. He was the leader and felt like he was failing them at a deeply personal level, and it was so hard for him. He could act tough and provide everyone with the smarts needed, but deep down he was hurting and doubtful.
Jin got up and placed his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder, who then raised his head.
“This is not your fault. If anything, you guided us well thus far. You’re also a member of BTS, so go and think about yourself as an individual, as an artist. We’ll talk about this again tomorrow.”
Namjoon rubbed his watering eyes and sucked it all in before nodding. “Thank you, hyung.”
“Of course,” Jin smiled reassuringly. “I’m going for a walk, don't wait up for me.”
“Now?” Namjoon frowned in confusion and Jin scoffed.
“It’s like ten pm, it’s not that late. I’ll be right back.”
He waved Namjoon goodbye quickly after getting ready and rushed out. He needed to breathe as well and the cold new year air would do him some good.
It was hard, it was really hard. However, he felt sort of stuck in a position where he couldn’t say much. Yes, it was hard, but it had always been hard for him.
He was the oldest, not the leader but definitely the one that looked after them from the day he joined. From making sure Namjoon and Yoongi sorted their differences, to scolding Jungkook for staying in his room by himself, to reminding Tae and Jimin to do their homework, to ordering Hoseok to rest or else, to cooking for all of them— He had become the hyung they needed and he was very thankful he did. He would have never become who he was today otherwise.
But giving and taking care of them was a responsibility, not a chore. What really made it difficult was, well, all the ways he was lacking. He was scouted for his looks, what the heck was that worth?
He chuckled as he made his way down the street to his favorite park. His freaking looks when the others were rappers, lyricists, producers, dancers, and singers. Sure he thought he could act, but that didn't measure up to the others.
So he was always behind and that was really hard. He was the hyung, he had to set an example, but he was lacking in every single aspect of what would make a valuable member. But he tried. That was it, that's all he did. He heard the hate, the harsh comments, the criticism, and he agreed. He was behind, he was slower, he wasn't sharp, he had less vocal range, he—
He sighed, it was hard. But for them, he tried. He wasn't perfect, he was still lacking, but he had worked hard to improve in every way. He had to do it to be able to even show his face to his precious dongsaengs.
So now what?
He didn't want to yell at them for giving up when he had tried so hard, but a minuscule part of him wanted to. Not because his own work would go to waste, he was a better man now than he could have ever hoped to become, but because if they didn't deserve the hype, the praise, and love, then who the hell did?
No one deserved it more than them, absolutely no one! That was what truly made him mad — for all the bullshit they had to take, they deserved every fan, praise, award, and gentleness. They were incredibly talented and kind human beings, he believed they had so much more to do still. So why not stay together?
Was that selfish of him? Sure, every single one of them individually could achieve greatness, be it as musicians, artists, actors, what have you. But he… he loved being with them, being in the group. That life, that family, he didn't want to let it go. He didn't want it to end.
The end was… suffocating. He knew it would come one day, whether now or later, and in many ways it was healthy to debate the end and choose to continue. Only then could everyone be on the same page and happy with the future. But damn was it suffocating. It was worse than letting go of a first love, it was like cutting off a limb. He couldn’t live without them.
They had all done so much. He had managed to graduate from university while shooting and promoting and it had been the most draining experience yet. But he couldn’t hold them back, 2017 was the year of breakthroughs, of pioneering and his degree was in many instances not a priority at all.
They finished the Wings tour while already preparing for the Love Yourself phase, where they finally had nearly full control of the full artistic process. He was so looking forward to it, it spoke of their fears and wishes to a visceral level. It was their message, ideology, and the footprint they would leave behind. Hopefully, if it was worth it, their legacy. They had to go through with it, the world had to see it.
But in order to go through with it, they had to decide. If the company was to schedule the world tour for the second half of the year then they had to commit. They couldn’t announce projects and concerts and then fall through. And that was where all problems started.
It was just too hard. They had fought so hard to have a spot in the limelight, but now they were basically being thrust into it successively and carelessly.
Of course they never knew it would get this big, so at first it just sounded good, a worthwhile opportunity to do more, to reach further, to spread their positive message. UNICEF heard of the ‘Love Yourself’ message and one domino pushed the other. They just couldn’t refuse to use their voice for the greater good. They dedicated themselves to spreading the message, creating merch to donate to the cause, and to making ARMY proud. And in return, ARMY helped them reach new heights.
With every award, from Best in Music at the 9th annual Shorty Awards to Top Social Artist at the 2017 Billboard Music Awards, they had hoped to bring someone closer to peace, fend off loneliness, and have more people enjoying their vibe. They were the first K-pop group to enter the Billboard Hot 100 with a single, 'DNA', and album, 'Love Yourself: Her'. They were thankful to their fans, who gave BTS the opportunity to be at the Billboard Music Awards in what was their first television appearance in the US, so later when they were asked to perform, they said yes. BTS was the first K-pop act to perform at the American Music Awards with DNA, and from then on the ball kept rolling. They filmed so many shows, Jin wasn’t quite sure what was what and when. And now they were just back from performing at Dick Clark’s New Year’s Rockin’ Eve in Times Square, New York, and they couldn’t stop. The next phase was here, not even a week of rest and they were back in the company deciding things and planning. It was exhausting, hallucinating, frightening and that was why they were at the rope’s end.
The company wanted to profit from the wave, the producers wanted recognition, the fans wanted them to achieve new unsurmountable records every day and meanwhile, BTS was just left exhausted, trying to not bite off more than they could chew. Now the opportunity had turned into a heavy constant pressure on their neck that they couldn't shake off. They couldn’t say no, that would be spitting back at ARMYs, that could never be. It was just… hard.
He knew it was, he could see how draining it was but… he still wanted to push through. He didn’t know how exactly and that was what he needed to figure out, because as their hyung—
He suddenly stopped his thoughts and looked around, confused. Yes, he was there at Yeouido Hangang Park as was normal for him when he strolled. It was maybe ten thirty in the evening now, but the street lights made it look almost like daytime. There was no crowd at that hour, but there were still a fair amount of people either coming off work or going to work, or drunk after dinner or going to have dinner. He looked at those people passing him by from where he was seated on a bench and he wondered what was wrong with him. Clearly, everything else seemed normal.
Then what the hell was that hum? He looked down at his own chest and laughed in disbelief at himself. His chest was buzzing, almost vibrating. It was so comical, was he finally losing it with the stress? Was he sitting there, wondering about ways to help the members while his own body was calling it quits?
Tears came to his eyes, he was touched so deeply the hairs on his neck stood on end. He was definitely not above crying, that was not an issue for him if that would release his stress, but that was when he realized he didn’t feel stressed. No, the buzzing hum was warm and soft and gentle, like perfume, and he got up from the bench and started looking around.
Why was he looking around when everything looked absolutely normal and that feeling was deeply sprouting out from his chest? No idea. He just had to go, there was something he needed to find. If there was a perfume, there had to be a flower, right?
There was this unmistaken breeze guiding him somewhere, he felt like a paper wind vane being blown on in a specific direction, but he couldn’t see anything that—
He froze with wide eyes just looking at the woman rushing towards him like a gust of wind. He was standing right in her way, they were on a collision course, but she was looking down while utterly absorbed in the phone call she was having. That’s when he thought, Jin you idiot, you should have been listening, not looking.
The corners of his lips rose the second he predicted she would crash into him, which he absolutely wanted for some reason, but she subverted his expectations. His features went from cheeky to slumped when she dodged him expertly and just walked right past him without even looking up.
He turned to widen his eyes at her in a complaint, but she was walking steadily and quickly away without looking back. Well, he scoffed, how could she just focus so hard on her call or whatever that she didn’t see him standing right in her way? One should pay attention to their surroundings instead of—
He gasped, Wait!
It had to be her, there was no mistaking the happiness in his heart making it bounce around inside his chest. The wind was blowing him in her direction, it was her. Her, huh? He grinned widely in the last meters to get to her, he couldn’t believe he had found her.
He grabbed her hand and she immediately turned around with shock on her face. She had been saying something on the phone, but she was now muted just staring at him with big wide eyes.
He could tell her eyes were big and expressive just at that moment, but he wondered how they would look when she smiled. Her cheeks were pink from the start of the year cold, and the little cloud of steam in front of her small heart-shaped mouth as she breathed was freakishly cute. Her long brown hair was tied in a ponytail and her jacket covered her almost to her knees, not letting him actually see much of her.
He caressed her hand with his thumb gently as he smiled at her, giving her time to come to the same realization as him — this was it. Meanwhile, a tingly sensation was shooting up his arm and filling him with an indescribable euphoria that just confirmed his belief. His eyes were shining as his lips curved in a smile full of endearment.
Yet she was just shocked, staring at him. She had felt the breeze playing with her feelings, but she thought it was the stress, the burnout, so she just focused on getting home. But that tingly sensation… it had to be, right?
But how could it be him?! He was gorgeous, what the heck was that? It was hard enough to believe they had just crossed paths like that at Yeouido Hangang Park (what were the chances?!), but how could he be so… beautiful? Symmetrical? Proportional? Flawless?
Was he real? Was he a painting? A doll? Was he just a dream? Was she dreaming?
“What’s your name?”
Her brain short-circuited. “I’ll call you back,” she murmured without thinking, putting the phone down instantly.
His voice was beautiful too, but that wasn’t possible. None of that could be happening to her, how could destiny do that to her?
“Jaehwa,” she breathed, still quite unsure if she was dreaming, and kind of hoping she was.
He smiled but looked down, he was seemingly shy yet meanwhile she could only focus on his pouty lips. He looked so adorab—
What the hell was she thinking?!
“My name is Jin. Kim Seokjin.”
She nodded, still with wide eyes though now they were staring at his chest as if she couldn’t face him.
“It’s nice to meet you,” he said, raising their hands still clasped together in between them.
She blinked, a deep shade of crimson spreading on her cheeks. She could barely breathe, this wasn’t natural. What was he, a reincarnated prince?!
She stammered, “I’m… I’m not sure about what’s happening.”
“I think we’re soulmates,” he told her calmly, like a summer breeze whispering a secret. She felt a shudder, that was not possible. How could he feel so… intimate with her, like they had no secrets, when she just met him. “You know, tingling sensation and all.”
She swallowed hard, refusing to blush even more, then she bit her lip. Right. She couldn’t even bring herself to walk away, no matter how incredulous she was. She couldn’t rationalize her way around that feeling, and her skin was still humming all the way to her chest now. Her heart was reveling in the feeling as if she had been waiting all along. Well, maybe he was right. It was absolutely impossible and ridiculous but… maybe?
She took a deep breath and adjusted her coat around her neck, preventing the cold from slipping in, and to do so she had to let go of his hand.
“This will sound weird but… would it be okay if I just gave you my number?” She asked and he blinked his long eyelashes in surprise. “I’m sorry, I’m just really tired and I fear I’m just hallucinating this whole thing.”
He chuckled, “I see, I understand. We’re both quite tired, I think.”
She looked up at him — he did look tired with dark circles around his eyes, despite his smile.
He pulled his phone out of his pocket, “How about you give me your number and I message you in the morning? Then you know if you got a message, it’s because it’s real and this really happened.”
Her eyebrows furrowed for a second before she nodded curtly, “Fine, that sounds good.”
You can go here to keep reading [ao3] (this story is finished) 💜
#Soul Palette - Soulmate AU Series#bts fanfic#bts#bts imagines#ao3 fanfic#bangtan sonyeondan#bts fanfiction carnation#bts jin#kim seokjin#bts angst#jin fanfic#jin fluff#bts soulmate au#soulmates#lo1k-diamonds writes 💎
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T H E T A K E O V E R - Prequel (A BTS FF Apocalypse AU)
The recruits of Bangtan Academy were trained to be super soldiers, to be the strongest, fastest, most cunning fighters in the world, now they are being put to the test! You were at the bottom of your class, but you noticed the cracks in the system first, what are you going to do? Run or try to save the world?
BTS Apocalypse Dystopian Invasion AU. Mystery Thriller. BTS member(s?) x reader / Namjoon x reader this chapter
Smut. PWsomeP for now, cause it gets crazy fast yall.
Warnings: military, guns, rough sex, public sex, exhibitionism, oral sex, role-play, overstimulation, breeding kink, size kink? strength kink? idk what kind of kink it is tbh but it’s kinky lol, someone smarter than me feel free to name them for me, y/n is kind of a masochist.
Word count: 3.2k
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In the back of the military compound there was Bangtan Academy, home to the country’s best and brightest. That’s what your drill instructor kept telling you at least. You didn’t feel like the brightest, but you guessed even amongst the best of the best, there had to be someone at the bottom. That person was you.
You didn’t care, you could still hold your own with the other recruits in your class, and you never said no to a challenge, even if you were on a 134 losing streak, because Bangtan Academy was all that you knew. You couldn’t remember a time in your life when you didn’t walk the iron halls, run laps around the military base’s field, or train day in and day out to become a top soldier.
So you knew every inch of The Academy like the back of your hand, and you knew all the places you could go where your drill instructor couldn’t bother you. That’s why you were on top of The Academy’s roof, sitting next to your classmate Namjoon.
Namjoon was everything you wished you were; savvy, book smart, strong, funny, popular. He was also second in your class. The rising star of your class, Namjoon was too smart for his own good. He found studying lessons he already understood boring, so you could always count on him to keep you company.
“Do you think they will snitch?” Namjoon gestures to the military guards at the South watch tower, who have a perfect view of you.
“Nah, that one guy looks like he’s more interested in his phone than busting a couple of recruits,” you smile, winking.
“Well,” Namjoon pushes your shoulder down so you’re lying on the concrete, rolling his body on top of yours, “Why don’t we give them a show?” He raises his eyebrows, sending you a dimpled smirk before pressing his lips to yours.
Namjoon was your friend, but he was also incredibly hot, and a huge hornball, and Bangtan Academy had a definite lack of female recruits. Many times, you were one of two females in a room full of men, and sometimes you were the only female there. So when whatever this new caveat to your relationship started with Namjoon, you figured it was out of convenience.
Even if you were stuck in a sea of testosterone, to your dismay most of the male recruits left you alone, no one wanted to fraternize with the lowest rank in their class. So of course you let Namjoon fuck you, no one else would! You and your friend had at least one thing in common, a very high sex drive.
You roll your hips up into his, suppressing a moan. You can already feel how hard Namjoon is between your legs, while he nibbles on the sensitive skin behind your ear. “Don’t leave any marks,” you mumble, “Drill Sergeant will kill me.” You shake Namjoon’s shoulders to get his attention.
God, why is he so built? All the recruits were in top physical condition, but your friend was something else entirely, tall and sturdy and full of muscle. You intended to push him away, but one feel of his hard muscles under your fingertips had you pulling him closer to you instead, earning a quiet chuckle from Namjoon against your neck as he ran his tongue along your skin.
Namjoon yanks your shirt up, exposing your bra. His arms snake around your waist, reaching for the clasp. “Don’t break this one this time, I’m running out of excuses,” you warn him.
Namjoon hums against your collarbone. He was always so rough, rougher than he probably intended. Your friend really didn’t understand his own strength. But you liked it, years of combat training made your pain tolerance high.
He pushes your loose bra up too now, exposing your bare chest to him, and starts to undo the buttons of your pants. He hovers over you with lust filled eyes studying the curves of your body, lips curved up as he silently watches how you twitch and shake under his fingertips. Watching him watch you made your stomach tighten and the center between your legs ache with need.
His dark eyes traveled the expanse of your skin like he was imagining all the steps he was going to take to conquer your body. Your friend was always planning, always one step ahead.
Setting his plan into action, he drops his body onto yours again, teeth and tongue grazing all over your exposed skin, his hands making quick work at pulling off your pants and underwear.
“We shouldn’t be doing this out in the open, what if someone finds us?” Your warnings are half-hearted and unconvincing. You whisper the words playfully, your half naked body only wrapping around his tighter.
“I don’t think anyone is willing to have that conversation with your dad,” he says playfully. Oh that’s right, you were the school’s Head Commander’s daughter. Your parents separated during your childhood and you’ve stayed at Bangtan Academy ever since. The cold isolated hallways were the only home you remembered, like the cold isolated man you called your father was the only family you had there for you.
You did visit your mother any chance you got, starved for her warmth, even if it was mostly directed at your step father and step siblings, even if she always looked at you with a mixture of sadness and uneasiness when you visited, she was always kind, kinder to you than your father.
“Can we not bring him up right now?” You tense under Namjoon, annoyed.
“Sorry, sorry,” he distracts you with kisses, hands pulling your legs back around him as he presses down into you. The distraction works, you warm up with Namjoon’s hard heavy body on yours. Your fingers run through the soft hairs on the back of his head, enjoying the tiny prickles they leave on the tips of your fingers.
Namjoon goes back to his mission at hand: making you scream his name. He trails kisses down your stomach, spreading your legs wider with his large hands so he can kiss the inside of your thighs. Your back arches from his soft touches, you’re used to roughness, pain, not this. This kind of touch makes your heart burst and the tips of your toes tingle.
His arms lock around your legs, pulling you down to his mouth. You feel his tongue, slippery and powerful, entering you, poking into your slit. It feels so good, you feel filled without any stretch or pain. He massages your inside walls with the wet muscle, making your toes curl against his back, Namjoon really is good at everything. You clench around his tongue, and he licks up and down your folds, drinking in your pleasure, tongue darting rapidly over your clit until you’re a shaking mess, and then he does it all over again.
When you look down, the sight is devastatingly erotic. His face buried deep in between your legs, but his eyes, dark and filled with lust never leaving your face. You shudder, bite you lip trying to silence yourself, but a soft moan escapes only spurring him on. His grip on you tightens, and he darts his tongue over you in the same way until you’re moaning louder.
You make the mistake of looking back at the watchtower, curiosity getting the better of you, and you see the two soldiers, binoculars pointed right at you. Oh shit.
“Namjoon, they’re watching!” you hiss, words broken by the moans he pulls out of you. Namjoon responds by pushing his face into you more. You let your head fall back. He’s not going to stop, and you don’t want him to. The soldiers already know you noticed them, so you turn your gaze back on them, you see the bulges in their pants, and your lips curl into a smirk. One of them adjusts himself, palming himself over his pants. You run your tongue over your teeth and wiggle your fingers in their direction.
Namjoon watches your display for the other soldiers, watches as you shamelessly push your elbows back instead of covering your naked chest, it made his dick throb in his pants, and as hot as he found you, he felt a pang of jealousy course through him too.
Namjoon brings your attention back on him, placing his lips around your sensitive hood and sucking hard. The abrupt sensation makes your legs shake as you yelp in pleasure and pain, your fingers digging into his muscled shoulders.
“Joon!” you moan. ‘That’s right,’ Namjoon thinks, it's his name that you’re moaning. His name leaving your pretty lips as he pushes two fingers into you, pumping them in and out while his tongue runs harsh licks into you. Your body shakes for him, your orgasm is his doing. Your frame tightens around his shoulders, every muscle in your body seizing in pleasure. You’re his.
He doesn’t pull away from you, even when you start to cry in overstimulation, even when your legs kick hard at his back, and your nails dig into his skin. Not until his lungs burn for air, only then he finally lets you go, heaving for breath.
Your body buzzes, you shake as electric currents of lingering pleasure pulse from your core and throughout your body. You lie there and you can only look up at the bright afternoon sky in a daze.
“Wow,” you laugh. Namjoon breaks into a bright smile, chin still slick from your essence, beaming down at you with pride. How can he be so achingly hot yet cute? You push away thoughts that have you imagining him as more than a friend, more than a quick fuck. The idea that someone like Namjoon would ever see you as a serious partner wasn’t a thought you entertained, it hurt too much to think of him rejecting your heart.
You do know he won’t reject you when it comes to this. You grab the front of his shirt, pull him down, and kiss him hard. Why is he still wearing clothes? You whine wordlessly into his mouth, tugging his shirt up. Namjoon gets the idea, hastily pulling it over his head. You can’t help but stare at the way his muscles jump as he flexes. You want to admire him more, but you know he’d probably tease you later on for it, so you work on unbuckling his belt.
You run your hand up and down his length, hard and big just like the rest of him. His lips cover yours again and you pant into each other's mouths. For now, you accept how much he wants you physically as enough.
Namjoon grabs your leg and pushes your calf to your shoulder, you wince at the stretch, still sore from yesterday’s combat training, and then he thrusts into you all at once, so hard and fast you have to cover your mouth to silence your screams. Namjoon is usually enthusiastic, but not like this. You wonder if he’s performing for your secret audience too.
You let Namjoon bend and use your body how he wanted, you’d let him do wherever the fuck he wanted to you after that mind-blowing orgasm, but he was simple in his desires, his hips pounding into you at a steady rhythm.
Your eyes wander to the South and he grabs your chin, keeping you to him, “Look at me, don’t look at them, are they fucking you or am I?”
You bite your lip, staring into his eyes, “You are fucking me, so good.”
He licks his lips and starts giving it to you harder, holding you down by the ankle. In front of teachers, your Namjoon was always calm and collected, working through different strategies until finally choosing the best option, taking his time with the simplest of tasks to ensure he had the best means of action. With you, he was feral. He and you didn’t have the luxury of time, so he let his urges control him instead.
He grabs your wrists with his free hand, holding them above your head. He places all his weight on you, and it’s a lot, you feel trapped against Namjoon’s hard frame. You rarely ever feel this way. You know a hundred different ways to escape a situation, but the way Namjoon has you, bent in a position that’s most pleasurable for him, there’s no escaping his brute strength filling you up completely.
It feels wrong to like it so much, the way he holds you down, slamming into you with wild abandonment. “You can’t cum inside me,” you moan.
“Why, you don’t want my babies?” He teases. He rolls his hips into you deep, and you tighten around him in response.
“You c-can’t...” you moan. This was part of one of Namjoon’s latest fantasies that you liked to play along, you and him both knew all the female recruits were required to take birth control.
“But you would look so good pregnant,” he groans, gazing down at the curves of your body, “with my child.” He ends the sentence with a harsh thrust. You throw your head back, letting your moans escape you freely.
You liked the sound of that too, enjoying the fantasy maybe a little too much. You thought about what having a family with Namjoon would look like, a cozy home with him and someone to give your love to. Finally you could have a real family. Maybe...maybe if you weren’t soldiers, maybe if he had feelings for you, maybe...
Your fingers graze the back of his hand, clinging onto this touch, and he releases your wrists and moves to intertwine your fingers with his instead, your leg pressing firmly against his shoulder, the new angle making you dizzy with pleasure.
“N-not inside, you c-cant.” You’re a horrible actress, gripping his hands tighter as he pounds into you.
“You don’t want it?” All you can do is moan. “Hmm? You don’t want me, baby?”
He speeds up, and you wonder how many bruises you’ll end up with this time, how many marks Namjoon will leave on your body, reminding you of the briefest moments when he was all yours. “I want-” you bite your lip as the whisper leaves your mouth in a moan.
“What do you want?” Namjoon brings your intertwined hands to his lips, “Say it.” I want you, you big dumb idiot. You can barely concentrate on anything other than the feeling of his length buried deep inside you.
“I want your cum...” The way he pistons into you has you seeing stars in the bright blue sky. “...please.”
“Fuuck,” he groans, his deep voice sending you closer and closer to the edge again. You can feel he’s close, the way his length hardens inside you, so you give him exactly what he wants.
“P-please, Namjoon, please,” you chant into his chest, leaving opened mouth kisses over his defined chest, tongue rolling over his nipple. He loves it when you beg for him, and he loves it when you do that. His hips stutter against you.
“Then take it, baby,” he moans. He stills against you, filling you up so much it starts to hurt. He finally rolls off you, using his shirt as a blanket to cover you. You hear faint whistling in the distance. You turn your head, giggling at him as he catches his breath. He laughs back.
---
Training today wouldn’t be so bad if you weren’t so sore from your secret rendezvous with your friend, but you guess it could be worse, you could be practicing running, but today your class was in the gymnasium pool.
You were running a series of drills in swimming, diving, and holding your breath underwater. You were grateful the swimming suit the academy provided you with was unisex, swimming trunks with an athletic shirt were given to both men and women, hiding the evidence Namjoon lefts all over your thighs. You catch his eyes above the heads of the other recruits, and his eyes crinkle in a smile. Your face burns remembering his body on top of yours and you quickly look away. You didn't see the way his eyes dimmed, hurt by your actions, but Namjoon was used to your aloofness.
Diving was your favorite, because you could hold your breath longer than almost all the other recruits. You never broke The Academy's record, held by a one Park Jimin, fourth in your class, but you came very close one time!
You’re currently staring at his delicate features under water, determined to beat his time. He sits cross legged at the bottom of the pool, eyes closed, paying you no attention. You have a tight hold on the clasp at the bottom of the pool that keeps you grounded, counting down the seconds you can swim for air. Every other cadet has already given up. But not you. You look up at the water’s surface. Usually you can see the outlines of your other classmates, but this time you don’t.
‘That’s odd...’ you think. You would signal for Jimin, but he looks intent on paying you no attention, so you swim over to him instead, using up precious energy. You lightly tap him on the shoulder and point up, he gives you a confused look.
Looks like you will just have to beat him next time, too bad it couldn’t have been today. You kick off the bottom of the pool. You break the surface of the water with Jimin right behind you. “What was that about?” He seems a little annoyed at you, but you’re paying him no attention. Your entire class is standing in a row at the windows, even your instructor. You hear the loud whining of a helicopter outside, it sounds close. You and Jimin exchange looks.
You and Jimin make your way out of the pool to join them. You cover yourself in a towel, shivering as you watch the strange sight.
Military aircraft after military aircraft land in the grassy plains surrounding your school. Large booming noises signal their approach as they land. Helicopters and their whirling turbines chop through the sky.
And then soldier after soldier descends out of the cabins, dressed from head to toe in black and carrying large weapons. The soldiers fill the compound, and then start advancing to your school.
What the hell? You look for Namjoon, but you don’t see him anywhere.
---
I always have a writing plan, and then Mr. Kim Namjoon posts a selfie and always destroys that for me lol. This is all his fault! Don't blame me! Anyways, enjoy this opening to my newest story, how did you like it? <3
#bts smut#namjoon smut#bts fanfiction#bts fanfic#namjoon fanfiction#namjoon fanfic#rm fanfiction#rm fanfic#bts x reader#namjoon x reader#ot7 x reader#bts apocalypse au#bts dystopian au#bts invasion au#bts fantasy au#bts science fiction au
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it wasn't much, but i managed to start writing the sequel to Sugar Spice & Everything Not so Nice!
it kinda felt nice to write for one of my babies again. progress is slow and hiatus is definitely still in effect since i'm being swallowed whole by my work hours, but just writing those 900 words made me feel pretty good ^^
I hope everyone is staying healthy and safe (and wearing your masks unless you're fully vaccinated or so help me god-)
#been thinking about writing a whole new au for a bts member#High-Rise Invasion AU if anyone knows the anime/manga#the concept is so interesting and i'd fucking love to try and write an au for it#like y/n being one closer to god and -member- being a mask#aflsdfjasdf so many things#still on hiatus tho but shhhhhhh#rambles#shut up tay
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opus kaiho, drabble number 1 / tatemae series 建前:
pairing: detective!jeon jeongguk x trophy!wife reader
extra characters: dr!kim taehyung and tanaz (enouement)
genre: angst, hurt, yandere, smut, marriage!au, age-gap!au (7 years).
words: 4.116. (lol, it is supposed to be a “drabble”)
warnings: dark themes, yandere behaviour, threats, stalking, major invasion of privacy, gguk is angry and messed up in the head about the transgression, mentions of alcohol, mentions of hypothermia, dubious-consent, rough blow-job, mean and cruel jeongguk, hard dom!jeongguk, emotional blackmail and manipulation, reader gets slapped, way too much manhandling, unprotected sex (bls observe safe sex practices), breath play, orgasms (m), creampie, breeding kink if you squint.
request: Anonymous asked: i read about the escape ask about kaiho, can you formulate a scene on what happened after aeira got home, i don’t know why i am curious. i mean i imagine everything but i really want an official confirmation from you 😅😅😅
original one-shot: kaiho
part of: tatemae; 建前 — a bts series
jeongguk halted his SUV outside a mansion in the middle of gwanak-gu. if anything, jeon jeongguk absolutely despises rich, entitlement, snobbish people. he did not bother with parallel parking and left the vehicle abruptly in the middle of the porch. the slam of his car door was louder than jeongguk intended but he hardly cares at the moment. with steady and grounded steps, he rushed towards the front door, the metal of his gun clutched tightly between his fingers. if he could, he would probably punch through the doorbell but decided against it and rang the bell a few too many times.
the door opened shortly, “wow. are you crazy or what?”
jeongguk chuckled at the response, his swift fingers removing the safety from the gun and pointing it at the man stood in front of him, “i am going to ask you one more time; where the fuck is my wife?”
“like i said over the phone, i don’t fucking know. maybe she left you with someone else, for good.”
“don’t test me, kim. you won’t like it when your body will be riddled with bullets,” jeongguk replied, his nostrils flaring from the way he is seething at the thorny jabs.
kim taehyung rolled his eyes, “yeah, i am not buying that. your smith and wesson M60 revolver is a pretty little thing but it is a government mandated weapon. you are not going to fire that, not when you do not have any cause to shoot.”
“oh, don’t worry about that. i can kill you right here, right inside your precious home and then have your body disappear like you never existed. so, again, where is my wife?!” jeongguk raised his voice this time.
before taehyung could reply, another figure intercepted the pair of arguing males.
“jeongguk-ssi, what are you doing here? why are you pointing a gun at my husband?” tanaz appeared from behind to check who it was at the door and on noticing the taut environment, she speed-walked to where both the males were stood.
“you —” jeongguk lowered his gun and turned to tanaz, “where is y/n? i seriously don’t give a fuck if you helped her run, i just want her back. so just tell me where she is?”
“what do you mean where is y/n?” tanaz asked visibly confused.
“oh, so you are now going to play dumb. great. you know what, i will play along. so what happened is, my wife, my dear lamb of a wife decided to grow a pair of legs and ran away along with my six month old toddler.”
tanaz just stared at him with wide eyes as jeongguk informed her that you have, indeed, run away. the heated environment fell silent as jeongguk just stared at the woman in front of him. after conducting innumerable confession interviews, jeongguk knew that tanaz was oblivious to the whole thing, her eyes were too honest to be aware of such a conspiracy. the grip on his gun softened as he slowly retracted it and tucked it at his back.
“now, you believe us?” taehyung scoffed, “anyways, please leave.”
jeongguk sighed, still addressing tanaz, completely ignoring taehyung, “do you know anyone else, maybe another friend of yours who might know anything about her whereabouts?”
tanaz shook her head a no, “not really. she is not close with anyone else other than me and aria eonnie.”
“yeah, i asked. they don’t know. if y/n contacts you, you call me, at once. your distasteful husband has my number.”
“hey, that’s enough. cut it, jeon. i want you and the monstrosity of that car of yours out of my porch.”
jeongguk did not spare a glance towards taehyung and turned on his heels.
“yo-you won’t hurt her, right?” tanaz could not help but ask, her heart sinking to the bottom imagining the consequences that would soon follow her friend’s actions.
jeongguk stopped in his tracks but did not bother to turn around, “that depends on your friend. if she is back by my side with my son before nightfall, life won’t be that hard for her,” he replied before walking away. shortly, the couple also went inside their house after the intruder left.
no sooner had tanaz closed the main door behind her, than she rushed to her bedroom to access her phone.
tanz <3: listen
tanz <3: idk where tf you are
tanz <3: or why now of all times you chose to run from that bastard
tanz <3: but you need to run as far as any human possibly can
tanz <3: that asshole is out for blood
taehyung who walked in the room to grab his phone, noticed his wife typing frantically on her phone. worry flashing like headlights on her soft features. he stood in front of her with a quirked eyebrow, “don’t tell me you are involved in this.”
“huh? what?” tanaz locked her phone after exiting the messaging app in a bolt and kept away her phone. she meant to walk away but taehyung barred her passage.
“don’t play ignorant. you are not involved in this bullshit, right? or are you planning to run, as well?”
tanaz snickered as taehyung resembled a lion who just got his pride wounded, “what makes you think i might run away, too? or did you come upon the realization that you treat me like absolute shit.”
“oh, spare me the lecture. i don’t want to deal with that crazy asshole again so you better not be involved in this. also, you know better than to run away,” taehyung brought his hand to her face and tapped her cheek patronisingly with every word, “you are a sweet little wife.”
tanaz went to push away his hand but was silenced by his words that followed next.
“besides, no one needs to know that you killed a baby, i wonder how much your family name will be dragged through the mud when it becomes public news. so go ahead, run.”
︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.
strapped in the driver seat, halted at the driveway overlooking the kim mansion, a mirthless smile appeared on jeongguk’s face as the messages from tanaz’s cell phone delivered to the unknown number appearing before his tablet screen. as the wife of a detective, you knew a thing or two. you had cleverly discarded your phone at your house itself so he would not be able to locate you or even have an idea in which direction you might have gone. however, as the detective himself, he knows a thing or two more than you.
you are with a six month old baby after all, you would not risk falling in trouble and having no one to turn to, hence, you must have gotten your hands on a new cell phone and subsequently a new phone number, as well. he had already been tracking tanaz’s number the moment it all became apparent to him, but there was not much traffic going on. so, all he needed was a catalyst; a stimulant to scare tanaz enough to make her run to call or text you at the earliest. and text you she did.
jeongguk brought out his phone and relayed the unknown number to the organized crimes’ telephone operator. after the operator informed jeongguk that the encryption has been intercepted, jeongguk started typing on his phone.
+82-0987654321: hey my baby
+82-0987654321: i came back home after the stakeout and found the house empty. first, i thought you had just gone for a walk or maybe even to visit your family but turns out you have gone off the radar. mhm, i wonder what that means. baby, you are forgetting what i do for a living, so how about you come back by your own by nightfall and all will be forgiven. you don’t want me on the chase cause if i start to track you down, baby, it will be a massacre. spare yourself the trouble and come back at once using your new grown legs before i come over there and break them myself :D
+82-0987654321: give my love to kento, daddy misses him :*
after the texts got delivered to the unknown number, jeongguk finally ignited the engine and drove back to his place. waiting in the dark, waiting for you to show up before acting on his promise. he is already tired as it is from staying up all night for the stakeout, he decided to replenish his energy before hunting for you first thing in the morning. he would truly enjoy the chase but a part of him knows you will be back yourself.
and he is not wrong. the moment the texts appeared on your new burner phone, it did not take you a second extra to recognize his work number. your blood ran cold as he had already tracked your number down within a few hours. tracking your location would not take more than few minutes now. kento, who was playing in your lap, froze in his ministrations and quietly stared at you as you started crying while reading the messages your husband had sent.
you already knew that he had frozen all your financial assets the moment he found out that you were missing but you held onto the hope that there still might be time till he catches up to you, time enough for you to leave the country but your actions have caught up. the consequences are knocking at the door, it is now your choice to take the easy or difficult road.
kento sneezed from the cold in the empty, deserted apartment and started crying, interrupting your thoughts.
“baby, what’s wrong?” you took off your cardigan and placed it over the blanket wrapped around your baby but the cold was way too intense for a six month old toddler to endure. he needed a comforter, a warm heater to maintain his body temperature. you had already wrapped him in a fortress of warm clothes, every last piece of warm clothing that you had brought was used to keep him warm but nothing was working. he kept sneezing, crying and refused to even feed owing to the cold stress.
you were able to calm him down the previous few times but at the moment he was inconsolable. you snuggled him, trying to rub some warmth to his body but he kept crying.
the decision which seemed difficult to take was becoming clearer and clearer as kento kept crying in your arms.
︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.
jeongguk poured himself a glass of fine whiskey after taking a long shower. dressed in just a pair of grey sweatpants, he sat down on the couch, his feet propped on the coffee table as he took a sip of the dark poison. by the time he finished the glass and thought of pouring himself another drink, he heard a knock at the door. an amused smile made its way to his lips, he simply knew it was you. sauntering towards the entrance, he took his sweet time before answering the knock.
“took you long enough,” jeongguk spoke up when the door opened to reveal you standing on the other side, clutching kento close to your chest.
“please, just let me put down kento and we will have this conversation then,” you pleaded, trying to walk inside the house but he barred your passage, “he is cold, please!” you cried out, knowing all too well that he is blinded by anger at the moment.
jeongguk shrugged, crossing his tattooed arms over his bare chest, “not my fault. i did not take him out in this god-awful weather.”
you stood there shivering, your nose had turned red from the cold, your hands relentlessly trying to rub some warmth to kento’s back who was also shivering. tired and devoid of hope, all you could muster was mumbling out endless apologies.
“you can do better,” jeongguk replied, his eyes trained at the underbed of his nails, trying to scrape out any dust.
“i will do anything, please,” you tried to reason.
“i know you will, you have no other option,” your husband retaliated apathetically.
you knew very well that no amount of apologies would suffice but you could not waste more time to get kento some much needed warmth.
bending your knees, you kneeled down, your head bowed down completely to offer him a perfect ninety-degree bow of utmost respect. your hands holding kento protectively in your arms, making sure that not even his clothed body makes any contact with the cold floor. you quietly maintained your posture; your knees and lower body aching from the bend, your body shivering, waiting for jeongguk to provide you some leeway here. a few moments passed, the taut skin of your jeans-clad knees placed on the bricked pathway felt like it was going to crack open and ooze out fresh blood. jeongguk made no movement the entire time, his eyes boring holes on the top of your bowed down head.
a few more minutes passed before he finally let a sigh at your unbreakable resolve, “go, put him down. you know where to find me.”
your head turned up at the sound of his voice, and nodded up and down furiously before standing up, making a run for kento’s nursery.
you gently put him down in his crib, drawing all the curtains and turning the heater on. wrapping the comforter around him, you made sure no air would be able to pass through the sides. tired kento was quick to fall asleep in the warmth of his bed.
after making sure kento was comfortable, you walked out of the nursery, closing the door halfway through. without making any further delay, you made your way to the bedroom, where you knew your husband would be waiting for you, waiting to dish out whatever punishment he had in mind. subconsciously, you wanted to be punished for your actions because what exactly were you thinking? you put your baby boy in danger. kento was cold and could easily suffer from hypothermia given his tender age. you ran away in a plea to give him and yourself a better life but at what cost? you could not even do one thing correctly. you could not even keep your baby warm, let alone safe and healthy.
you walked inside the bedroom, your body moving on its own accord; on autopilot till you stood in front of the bed where your husband was sitting with his refilled glass of whiskey.
“is he alright?” he asked, taking a sip.
you nodded meekly, your eyes dare not make contact and trained at your feet.
“go on, get on your knees. you behave better that way,” jeongguk finished the rest of the liquor in one gulp and nonchalantly kept the glass away.
you lowered your aching body and got on your knees again, your hands placed carefully on your thighs, your gaze lowered.
“you know what to do, right?” he asked, a certain disdain in his voice.
you nodded, your shaky hands advancing towards the drawstrings of his sweatpants. you stood on your knees, unravelling the knot when his dominant hand took a hold of your chin. his grip was unforgiving.
“this is nowhere near being your actual punishment, keep that in mind.”
you nodded once more at the piece of information and he let go of your chin, allowing you to continue with your ministrations.
after the drawstrings came undone, you snaked your hand under his boxers to unveil his semi-hard length.
“what are you waiting for? get to work,” jeongguk sneered when you took a moment too long.
jumping at his tone, you started fisting his length between your nervous, sweaty palms. your tongue darted out to let kittenish licks on the tip before jeongguk’s hand came on the back of your head.
“you don’t learn till i have to handfeed it you, right?” he grunted, putting both his hands on either side of your cheeks to hold your lips apart like a pair of retractors, leaving your mouth open to its very limit. angling your head down to where his length was, he pushed your open mouth on his length, filling up the passage of your throat. you barely fought the urge to gag out loud, your hands grabbing onto his thighs to maintain your balance.
jeongguk fisted up your hair into one hand, tearing up some strands in the process from his brutish handling. with his free hand, he pinched down on your nose. resisting all your struggles with perfect ease, he continued to bob your head up and down on his length.
the nearer you got to breathlessness, the more saliva your mouth created, coating jeongguk’s length in it, making it easier for him to slip in and out of your mouth like a highly lubricated crevice. when he felt that you were close to your limit and would pass out if he did not let you breathe freely, he let go of the hold on your nose.
trying to inhale air, you made an attempt to pull his length out of your mouth but jeongguk held your head down, causing you to wheeze against the base of his length. in an attempt to draw in breaths, you accidentally snorted his pre-cum, burning your nasal cavity in the process.
just when you thought things could not get worse, kento’s soft cries crept up to your ears. your eyes snapped open and you tried to pull away again but jeongguk had a death grip on your head.
“he can wait, finish what you started.” jeongguk started thrusting up into your hot crevice till you could feel his cum raw on your tongue.
by the time he pulled out, you got to your feet intending to walk to kento but jeongguk had different plans. he stood up too and got a hold of your elbow, pushing you back towards the bed. his chest was to your back, tugging at the buttons of your shirt, popping them open one at a time. you held on to your slipping shirt and turned back to him, “jeongguk, give me five minutes please. let me put him back to sleep.”
jeongguk wordlessly discarded your shirt, your jeans soon followed suit as they lay on the floor unceremoniously.
“jeongguk please, he is crying, he has not eaten anything since a while,” you voiced your pleas, desperate to get away from his grip to soothe your wailing child in need.
jeongguk ripped off your panties in one jerking motion before rubbing the hot bulbous head of his length against your entrance.
“please, i won’t waste any moment more than needed. i will just feed him and come back,” you kept struggling, your head turned towards the doorway, yearning to be with your son.
“shut up,” jeongguk groaned in annoyance as he turned you around so, now you were facing him.
“jeongguk, please, you said you would let me go if i helped you release,” you reached out to touch his cheek but a tight, resounding slap on yours caused you to freeze all your movements.
“and now i want to fuck you. you have lost all the rights to make any pleas. not tonight y/n. don’t force my hand, i don’t want to hurt you.”
you whimpered from the stinging pain on your abused cheek causing jeongguk to grab your chin harshly again, adding salt to the wound.
“fucking look at me when i am talking to you,” he yelled, sending jolts to poor kento, too, who cried even louder at the roar.
you tried to move away again on hearing kento’s louder cries but jeongguk’s grip on your chin and waist was unwavering. it did not take much time for you to understand that you were just dragging this out longer than it needed to be. locking your eyes with him, you ceased all movement to escape his grip, handing over to him all control on your body.
“there. was that so hard, baby?” he cooed, lining up the tip of his length with your entrance before thrusting up. your entire body shuddered at the sudden penetration as it facilitated to take in his length.
“that’s it, baby. the cogs in your stupid little head are finally running.”
your exhausted hands made their way to his shoulders to provide support to your footing but jeongguk pushed your hands away.
“don’t even think of touching me,” he mentioned, thrusting up into you at a stable pace.
finding no solace, you lowered your hands on either side of your thighs and balled up the bedsheets between your fingers. your ass-cheeks barely holding onto the edge of the bed, on the verge of falling down.
jeongguk’s pace slowed down, his hand grabbing your neck this time, applying just the right amount of pressure to cut off your air supply again, “you are lucky,” he drawled out near your ear, licking a stripe up the skin behind the ear cartilage, “you are lucky my son still needs to be breastfed or i would have taken away your right to food and water from tomorrow onwards,” his hips snapped forward at full force. thrusting in one long stroke causing your eyes to roll back at the sheer intensity of it.
a hiccup reverberated within your chest as you struggled to breath, enduring his drawn out thrusts. closing your eyes, you tried to pace your breathing, unaware of when you would be allowed to take a full, unrestricted breath next.
jeongguk kept up with his torturous actions before bringing your body closer to his, your forehead connected to his upper chest as he thrusted up again with full force and then stilled inside.
“remind me again, to whom does this body belong to, baby?” your husband asked, letting your neck free.
you gasped for air, your upper body falling limp backwards on the mattress, your chest rising to its full capacity, clawing at any amount of air that it could fit inside.
“you,” you meant to answer in your normal voice but due to the lack of air thereof, it came out as a husky croak.
“louder,” jeongguk tch’ed, buried balls deep inside you.
“you, sir. my body belongs to you,” you spoke louder in your cracked voice, straining your throat even more in the process.
“that’s more like it,” he smiled from above you before resuming his thrusts, setting a punishing pace at that.
your fingers balled up the bedsheets again, your organs still recovering from the on and off interruption of air supply.
“fuck, you are getting so tight,” jeongguk leaned down, caging your upper body between his arms, letting his elbows on the mattress to use it as support for his hard and fast thrusts.
a string of mewlings left your lips from the insurmountable assault at your sensitive folds. the nearer he got to his orgasm, the more erratic his thrusts became, setting the headboard into a frenzy against the wall as it knocked against the solid surface synchronised with each thrust. the legs supporting the bed creaked louder, as if they were nearing their breaking point, as well.
your hands had balled up the sheets to the point where you could feel your own nails digging deeper and deeper into your flesh, threatening to cut inside if you keep up with channelling all your strength there.
“fuck, baby so so hot... tight,” jeongguk spoke out a semi-legible string of words between the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin. the veins in his neck protruding out like an intricate pipeline system.
his pace quickened for the last couple of thrusts as he came out in long spurts inside of you. after he emptied his balls inside of you, jeongguk let a few soft thrusts, fucking his cum into you till his length grew soft.
︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.
by the time jeongguk had pulled out, you scrambled to your feet. although, your legs were in no position to support your weight, you continued to throw on the discarded shirt from the floor and your husband’s boxers before limping out to kento’s nursery.
the adorable toddler’s cries had reduced to small whimpers as he sucked on his thumb.
“oh baby, i am so sorry,” you murmured, picking kento up in your arms, “mum is so sorry for being so late.”
you sat down on the carpeted floor, lying down kento in your lap to feed him. poor thing was running a fever as his small fists grabbed onto the fabric of your shirt, clutching on it.
“i am so sorry my love, it’s all my fault,” you kissed his head as he started to feed.
unbeknownst to you, jeongguk had followed you after wearing the pair of sweatpants and was standing at the door of the nursery; watching you care for his son.
your husband is aware that you are sorry, you clearly regret your actions. but you are not sorry enough, not enough to his liking, at least not yet.
︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶︶༉‧₊˚.
a/n:
i tagged the smut in this piece “dubious consent” as the reader did not have any issues with having sex with jeongguk, she just wanted to do it a few minutes later. for me [hence a personal opinion, correct me if i am wrong], non-con is when either of the parties expressly refuses to have any sort of sexual activity with the other party and clearly does not want to engage in any sexual activity under any circumstances. this is not to justify the actions of the fictional character portrayed in this piece hereinabove, but only explaining the reasoning of the author behind the trigger warning. if you have other thoughts regarding the dub-con / non-con conundrum [i feel like the line between the two is extremely thin], feel free to send any constructive criticism. [hate will not be tolerated.]
kento is a japanese name which means “cure for depression” / “happiness”. in a way, he is his mom’s happiness and hence the name. [also, partially inspired by nanami kento]
please refrain from requesting the same scenario or continuation. let us move on and look at other scenarios / ideas.
feedback is deeply appreciated.✨
au!extras masterlist | bangtan masterlist | masterlist | rules | ask box |
- jaimie.
© 𝟫𝟫𝓁𝒾𝓃𝑒𝓇𝓈, 𝟐𝟎𝟤𝟣. 𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐃.
#jungkook smut#jeon jungkook smut#bts smut#jeon jeongguk smut#jungkook angst#bts angst#yandere jungkook#yandere bts#jungkook scenarios#jungkook drabbles#bts scenarios#bts drabbles#tatemae series#kaiho#yandere jungkook smut#yandere bts smut#yandere x reader#jungkook x reader#bts x reader#jeon jungkook x reader#yandere kpop#kpop x reader#i really wanted to use this louis vuitton look for a kaiho scenario uwu#kaiho drabble 1#❃―「jaim writes」
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Sutures - Chapter Two: Conjugate
Genre: Soulmates AU, Idiots to Lovers, slight Enemies to Lovers
Pairing: Yoongi/Named Reader
Warnings (chapter specific): invasions of privacy
Synopsis: “A person often meets his destiny on the road he took to avoid it.” –Jean de la Fontaine
There was only one thing you and Min Yoongi had in common that night. You were both brokenhearted. You only intended to be together for one night, but when you both end up in the hospital the next day you discover that you are soulmates. It could kill you to be apart. As you and Yoongi attempt to sever the bond between you, will another be formed?
Notes: This was originally written and completed on Wattpad between 2018 and the beginning of 2020. I’ll be slowly posting the chapters here. I may make a tag list depending on if enough people want to follow along with updates. Leave me some feedback if you would like added to a tag list.
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You sighed as the nurse pulled the IV out of your arm. The muscles in your body relaxing for the first time in hours.
"There we are," the nurse said. "Looks like you'll be out of here in a few hours. Just make sure not to get too far from that man of yours."
You smiled up at her, not wanting to explain that he wasn't your man and that you'd only just learned his name from a news broadcast a few hours ago. When Eunji had texted you that he was an idol, you'd thought she was joking. She was drunk after all and probably would've called any guy flirting with you an idol.
"This is crazy," Eunji said. "What're you going to do?"
"I don't know," you said. "I guess I'll have to contact him somehow."
"Did you get his number?"
"No, we never intended to see each other again."
"Well, he's looking for you."
---
"Jang Sumi?" a man asked, knocking politely as he entered.
"Yes?"
He bowed politely as he entered.
"I'm Bang Sihyuk, CEO of BigHit Entertainment," he said.
Your eyes grew wide and you immediately bowed, feeling slightly embarrassed you hadn't recognized him and done so before.
"We would like to discuss a proposal with you. If you'd please sit down," he said, pointing to the newly made hospital bed.
You sat down and the man sat down in the chair Eunji sat when you first awoke. "We have reason to believe you are Min Yoongi's soulmate. I'm sure the doctors have already explained that this means the two of you must remain near each other."
You nodded.
"In order to protect his career, we would like you to move into the BTS dorm. We will pay you and compensate you for any trouble."
"What about my career?" you asked.
The man nodded, his shoulders relaxing as if he'd expected you to question him.
"We've done our research and you're an English tutor? You can continue online sessions and do occasional in-person sessions away from the dorm. We don't want to take away your livelihood by any means. We want to protect both of you."
Your mind overflowed with thoughts. You'd be living with seven guys. Seven idols. Would girls get jealous? Would their fans even know? You had too many questions for the man to possibly answer.
You could certainly use the extra money and without having to pay rent, it would allow you to begin saving money. Something you'd wanted since you'd moved out.
You'd have to work less though, but you were sure the compensation that BigHit offered would be more than enough to make up for the fewer hours.
"All right," you said. "As long as I can keep my job, I agree."
---
"Boys, this is Jang Sumi," Bang PD said.
You bowed to the seven boys in front of you, secretly wishing the much more charming Eunji hadn't gone home. Even though it was obvious they had rushed to the hospital based on the various array of sweatpants and messy hair, they all still looked gorgeous.
The boys bowed back and their gazes wandered down to your neck, their eyes wide. You hadn't noticed the bruises there from the night before. You shyly broke eye contact and looked over to Yoongi who sat with his feet dangling off the hospital bed.
You met his dark eyes. Instead of the mysterious and hungry look they'd held the night before, they now looked exhausted and slightly annoyed. His gaze left yours momentarily as his eyes looked down at the bruises on your neck. His face remained expressionless except for a small flick of his tongue between his lips.
"The doctors need to run a few more tests and talk with Yoongi and Sumi," Bang PD said. "We should leave them alone"
The six other boys filed out of the room and you took a seat on the bed next to Yoongi, leaving a large space between you, so that it would be nearly impossible to accidentally brush against one another.
"Hi," you said. "So, it's been an interesting day, huh?"
The boy didn't respond and before you could make more futile attempts to fill the silence two doctors walked into the room.
"Min Yoongi and Jang Sumi?"
You both nodded and bowed.
"All right, I know this is all a bit overwhelming right now, but once we all discuss and decide on the various options, I'm sure you'll feel better." The doctor flipped a few pages on his clipboard before looking back up at you. "So, as you both know, this is still a fairly rare condition. Finding one's soulmate and having it cause heart attack like symptoms is not well understood. Due to this, we request at least monthly check-ups for at least the first year for both of you to ensure your heart is okay and to check your overall health. The rest depends on how the two of you choose to proceed. Are you two currently in a relationship?"
"No," you both answered.
The doctor nodded.
"The easiest and best way to proceed is to attempt a relationship. While it might be awkward at first, for your overall general health, it will be the best way to adjust and will allow the withdrawals to be less frequent and violent in the future. If--"
"No," Yoongi said. "We can't do a relationship."
"What do you mean?" you asked, your head whipping around to face him. The last thing you wanted was to be in a relationship with a man you barely knew, especially the day after you'd officially ended it with your ex. But if the doctors said it was the best way to deal with the situation, you were inclined to listen.
"It's for both of our own good," he said. "You have no idea what a relationship with an idol would be like."
"Well, there are other options," the doctor said, glancing between the two of you. "If you truly don't want to be together, we can work on trying to weaken or even sever the connection between you. It is rare and difficult to do, but it has been achieved. You will have to stay in the same building as the other person most of the time. There do seem to be some exceptions such as work or situations where the other absolutely can't be present. However, at first, these withdrawals will be powerful and you may not be able to leave the building without the other person at all. For the first week, we suggest not doing so.
"In order to attempt to sever the connection, we will have to monitor your mental health and work to keep the relationship on track. While you don't have to remain distant from each other, it is important to not have feelings for each other, or else it will not work. You will have monthly or bi-weekly appointments with a psychiatrist who is trained to work with cases like this.
"You will also experience something we like to call urges. These are instances of extreme attraction to one another. It will be extremely difficult to be apart from each other during these times. It is important that you be together in these times, but if you are choosing not to pursue a relationship, you must do your best to resist the attraction."
After the doctor was done explaining everything and had recorded your decision to attempt and sever the connection, they drew blood from both of you and allowed you to leave.
---
You'd spent the rest of the day packing. Your things were going to be confined mostly to one room, meaning you had to downsize and choose what was most important to you.
You heard a knock on the door and before you could answer it, it was already open and Eunji and the entirety of BTS came through your door.
"Sorry if I scared you," Eunji said. "I let them in."
"Sumi," the tallest one said. He was the leader, Kim Namjoon, according to Google. You figured you should at least try to learn your new roommates. He introduced himself and the rest of the boys, other than Yoongi. "We decided to help you pack up before the movers get here. I'm sure it's quite overwhelming to have to move all of a sudden."
"Yes," you said. "This is very sweet. I guess, um, you could help clean up a bit? I haven't had a chance to clean the kitchen since I got home. And, maybe someone else wouldn't mind getting dinner?"
"No problem," Namjoon said, motioning to the members.
"I'll be in my bedroom if you have any questions or need me for anything."
Eunji was already bonding with the younger members of the band and showed them where all of the cleaning supplies were kept. You smiled at her ability to make friends quickly and headed back to your bedroom.
Your suitcase laid open on your bed as you sorted through your clothes, trying to decide what to keep. You'd already packed the essentials, the rest of your closet spread out around the suitcase.
You felt something soft beneath your foot. You bent down and picked up the fabric, recognizing it as the dress you'd worn out the night before. You hated to leave it behind it, but you weren't sure you would need such a nice dress again. And if you did, you could just borrow one of Eunji's. You folded the dress and were attempting to make a decision when a knock sounded on your door.
"Come in."
The door opened and Yoongi walked in. He wore a beanie, a sweatshirt, and a pair of jeans. You almost liked the more casual look on him more than the slightly more dressed up look he'd worn when you first met. You weren't sure if you truly liked it better or if it was just the connection between you talking.
"Sorry to intrude," he said. "I was just wondering if you needed any more help? The rest of the boys pretty much have it handled out there."
You tried to put aside the resentment you felt for the boy from earlier in the day when he so bluntly decided not to follow the best option and try the relationship.
"You can pack up my knitting stuff," you said pointing over to your desk in the corner where you kept yarn, knitting needles, and the various guides. "Just be careful not to tangle the different yarns together."
He nodded and grabbed an empty box and carefully placing each skein in the box. You turned back to the dress in your hands. You fingered the soft fabric and sighed as you went to set aside. Before you could set the dress with the rest of your discarded clothes, you felt a hand take it from you. You looked up at Yoongi, who held the dress and placed it into the suitcase.
"It looks good on you."
---
"You like to knit?" Yoongi asked, a few minutes later.
"Yeah," you said. "It calms me down when I'm stressed."
He nodded as he placed the rest of the items from the desk into the box.
"Sumi!" someone called from the hallway.
"What do you want us to do with this?" one of the boys asked, you believed his name was Jimin, followed by a blond-haired boy, Taehyung. Jimin dangled your stuffed cat in the air, a smirk across his face.
"Hey!" you said. "Don't hold Kitty that way!"
The boy laughed as you snatched the stuffed animal from him. One of Kitty's button eyes was loose and dangled slightly, causing her eyes to look uneven.
"You named it Kitty?" Jimin asked laughing.
Eunji came into the room. She seemed slightly annoyed with the two boys who had run off from their duties.
"I was four!" you said, looking down at the stuffed cat. "Besides, it's an English name!"
"All right, all right," Jimin said, relenting his taunts. "Do you want to take Kitty or not?"
You made eye contact with Eunji who's eyes were wide. She knew what Kitty meant to you, but Kitty was also falling apart. Her eye was the least of her trouble, you'd sewed the majority of her seams back together multiple times. You didn't want to risk Kitty getting lost or falling apart altogether. You knew it was time to let her go.
"She is pretty old and I'm getting too old for toys anyway. Um, I guess put her in with the donation pile." You handed the stuffed animal back to Jimin who took it and hesitantly walked from the room.
You felt tears pricking at your eyes, but you held them back and went back to sorting through your clothes. The task felt harder all of a sudden, but eventually, you finished, zipping up the suitcase.
---
It was late by the time you arrived at the dorm. It was huge, the biggest apartment you'd ever seen. It was surprisingly clean for being inhabited by seven boys, but you figured they were just too busy to cause much of a mess.
The extra bedroom they'd been using as storage was already clear for you. You made your bed and then opened your suitcase and began emptying it into the dresser.
"Need some help?" Namjoon asked, standing in the doorway.
You smiled at the boy as he began sorting your clothes, making it easier for you to put away.
"Thank you," you said. "I'm exhausted and I'm honestly dreading the rest of the boxes getting here tomorrow."
He nodded.
"We've moved a lot," he said. "Sometimes I feel more tired after moving than dance practice."
You both laughed lightly.
"They told me you're an English tutor?"
"Yeah," you said.
"It'll be nice having someone else who can speak English."
"None of the other boys can?"
He shook his head.
"No, they all understand a little. But none of them are fluent."
"We'll have to change that then," you said, laughing.
"How'd you learn it?"
"My mom grew up in the US. Her parents were from here but moved to the US when my mom was a baby. She met my dad when she was here visiting family and she ended up moving when they got married. So, I grew up speaking both Korean and English. My parents recently moved to the US actually, to be closer to my grandparents."
"Wow," he said. "That's a better story than mine. I just watched Friends."
You laughed.
"That's more impressive though. You taught yourself. I kind of just learned it the same time I learned Korean."
You felt some of the nerves you'd felt coming into the dorm beginning to leave you. While you were sure it would talk longer for you to adjust, the boys had all tried to be as helpful and welcoming as possible. Even Yoongi. Despite the fact he'd barely talked to you, he still helped pack up your apartment.
"Sumi," you heard another voice say. You turned around and saw Yoongi standing in the doorway, his eyes focused on his phone. "We have a problem."
"What?" you asked, your eyebrows knitting together.
"Someone found your shoes."
"My shoes? You mean, the ones I left at the bar last night?"
Yoongi nodded.
"Someone is selling them online. They're using the connection to me to get attention. The bidding ends tomorrow."
You grabbed onto the dresser and tried to steady yourself. You'd expected something like this to happen eventually, but just twenty four hours after you'd even met Min Yoongi?
You heard Namjoon say something to Yoongi, but you didn't catch what it was. You felt a hand on your shoulder and saw the leader looking straight at you.
"We're going to get this figured out."
All you could do was nod.
#bts#fanfic#fanfiction#fan fiction#bts fan fiction#farfromsuga#bts fanfic#bts fanfction#bts imagines#btsfanfic#min yoongi fanfic#yoongi fanfic#yoongi#min yoongi#suga#suga fan fiction#suga fanfic#bts yoongi#bts soulmate au#yoongi soulmate au#bts suga#bangtan fanfic#bangtan
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chapter three.
⇥ pairing: ot7 x reader (insert gif of elmo with flames behind him here)
⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst
⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity
⇥ word count: 2.3k
⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, dirty talk, jimin propositions the reader accidentally, taehyung is a menace, noona kink jumps out A LOT, chaotic ot7, talk of poly relationships, overall kinda smut free (the next chapter should quench fuel your thirst)
© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.
characters | prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine
Chapter Three
“It means that we’re going to date the shit out of you.”
We’re going to date the shit out of you.
We’re. Going. To. Date. The. Shit. Out. Of. You.
Those words play on a constant loop in my head for the rest of the week. After Namjoon had dropped that bombshell on me, I’d kind of freaked the fuck out, faked an immediate illness, and ran at full speed.
When I had told Luna about it later that night, she had been just as shook as me. Surprisingly enough, she had also given her full support of whatever I decided to do but “would have her banana slicer on standby and would order six more if need be”.
It appears that she had drunk-ordered a banana slicer off Amazon when the last boy she talked to pissed her off. I had apparently drunk-approved the decision. Rad.
Jenni’s reaction had been even better. We’d been in the library on Monday and her screech of “he said what!?” had led to multiple events:
An abundance of shushes from every student within a 50-yard radius
Her continued rant: “Your own personal harem! Can you say goals? Maybe I should infiltrate EXO and collect my own...”
Us getting kicked out by our ancient librarian
For the rest of the week, I had Luna and Jenni both giving me shit about the BTS boys. It had helped that I hadn’t run into them at all on campus between classes. But I had known it wouldn’t be long before my luck would run out...
Quinn Library – 2:31pm
Typically, I don’t spend my Friday afternoons deep within the stacks of the library’s quiet floor. Yet, here I sit typing frantically due to my incapability to stop procrastinating. My fingers fly over the keys of my aging MacBook in hopes that whatever spur of productivity I had going on is captured in its fullest.
General education classes could burn in the pits of hell as far as I'm concerned. If I wanted to be a psychiatrist, why did I have to take – and pay for – an art elective that I would likely never utilize in the workforce? Plus, the only class within the category that fit my schedule ended up being “Writing About Dance”.
Yeah, I’m still a tad bitter, but in all honesty the class isn’t that bad so far. It mainly consists of watching different dance performances and learning how to write about them in different styles.
Today’s assignment is to write critical commentary on videos of the university’s dance team that the professor provided for us. Sighing, I finish my review of the second to last dance video provided by the professor, take a quick second to stretch, and then open the link to the last video on the assignment page.
“Park Jimin – Final Performance Solo, Spring 2019”
Slack-jawed, I fall into wonder as Jimin moves through his routine flawlessly. He dances like it’s easier than walking to him. His movements are somehow precise and fluid all at once. I barely realize a few tears have run down my cheeks until the video cuts off, signaling the end of Jimin’s performance.
Jesus, (y/n), get it together. I laugh lightly as I dig in my backpack for a tissue. How could I possibly capture the ethereal beauty that Jimin exuded into words? Am I even worthy of commenting on such exquisiteness?
Definitely fucking not. And before I can second guess myself, I type: “Park Jimin is art in its purest form. Watching him dance is like watching the sun rise over the ocean – raw beauty accompanied by the hopes brought with a new day. His performance left me wanting for nothing except an encore.”
Boom. Submit Assignment.
As my email pings with the confirmation that my assignment is turned in, my eyes widen in realization. Park Jimin of BTS is a dance god, and he – allegedly – wants to date me? That is just ridiculously unfathomable.
Namjoon must be off his rocker.
Closing my laptop, my phone suddenly vibrates with an incoming notification from snapchat...
President_RM has added you!
Before I can even comprehend the absurdity of Namjoon adding me, my phone bursts into a series of buzzes. Cursing, I switch my phone to silent and check my screen.
minsuga93 has added you!
jhopeworld_ has added you!
handsomeJIN has added you!
JKookie97 has added you!
vantae_BTS has added you!
95jiminie has added you!
Are they serious? How did they even get my SnapChat username?
vantae_BTS has added you to a chat!
Curiosity wins out over aggravation as I swipe to open the chat.
Heart pounding, I fight the urge to chuck my phone into the depths of the bookcases winding around the room. What did those idiots want with me?
(y/n) & Luna’s Apartment – 9:45pm
“What do those idiots want with me?” the decibel my voice has risen to is shocking even to my ears.
Luna cringes, accordingly, “I can’t tell if that’s a rhetorical question...”
I steamroll onwards, “And don’t even get me started on how they could have even gotten my snapchat. It’s a complete invasion of privacy!”
“You could just ask them,” Jenni’s voice cuts through my rambling tirade.
I pause, “No, I couldn’t—”
...Or could I?
Turning on my heel, I rush into my room and head straight for my closet. Grabbing the nearest sweatshirt and pair of leggings, I tug them on and then grab my keys from my nightstand.
Whirling back into the living room, I storm past a dumbfounded Luna and Jenni, “Be right back.”
Opening the apartment door, Luna shouts, “Wait! Where are you going? You’re not even wearing shoes!”
Whoops. I glance at my feet and note that she is, in fact, correct.
Jenni bounds over to me holding my Doc Martens, “Here, babe. You’re going to the BTS house, aren’t you?”
I nod grimly and salute my two best friends as if I'm going into battle. “I won’t be long. I just have a small errand to run.”
“Well, you’re not going alone,” Luna declares, pulling on her sneakers.
Jenni snorts and shoves her feet into her beat-up Converse, “No way am I missing out on this action.”
As we head out the door, I link arms with Luna and Jenni, “Have I mentioned I love you both recently?”
“Right back at you, bitch,” Luna laughs.
Greek Row – 10:17pm
Ten minutes later, we reach Greek Row. Fraternity and sorority houses dot the street on both sides. Personally, I think of this street as home to the chaotic rich, and I tend to avoid it at all costs – except tonight.
The line to get into BTS is so long it wraps around the block. Students dressed in the latest fashions converse as they wait, huddling together in their groups. I glance down at my outfit of a worn university hoodie and leggings.
“Well, shit. We’re underdressed, huh,” Jenni deadpans, causing all three of us to burst into laughter, “Do you think they put you on the list, (y/n)?”
Pondering that thought, I shrug, “Maybe,” and begin marching past the line of waiting students towards the front door of BTS, “But I sure as fuck am not waiting in that line.”
“Hey, there’s a line here!”
“Yo, bitches! What are you doing?”
“What the fuck?”
Paying the hecklers no mind, I saunter right up to the BTS pledges guarding the door, “Hi, I need to talk to Kim Namjoon.”
The pledge on the right rakes his gaze over me incredulously and then makes the same assessment of Luna and Jenni, “You know this is a party, right?”
I don’t deem that comment worthy of a response and instead cross my arms over my chest. He shrinks under the collective glare of me, Luna and Jenni.
The pledge on the left awkwardly clears his throat, “Names, please?”
My answer barely escapes my lips before the pledges visibly straighten, looking at me with new eyes, “You’re (y/n)? Why didn’t you just say so?”
And before I can answer, the front door swings open for us.
People are everywhere. A haze of smoke looms in the air, and rap music blares from the speakers. The bass is turned up so loud that the beat seems to take over the rhythm of my pulse. That cannot be healthy.
Turning to my friends, I do my best to communicate, shouting, “I’m going to find them! Are you going to be here?”
Luna and Jenni exchange a look and nod. Jenni shouts back, “We’re going to get some drinks. Might as well capitalize on free booze! Text us when you’re ready to go.”
And with that, we part ways.
Maneuvering around the sea of gyrating bodies in the main living room area, I scan around for any signs of my seven menaces.
“Do my eyes deceive me? Or is that my future wife?” The deep voice booms from behind me.
I sigh, recognizing the voice, and turn around.
Kim Taehyung is striding towards me with his arms outstretched, smiling like the damned fool he is and looking like he just stepped off the runway for Gucci. “Come to daddy.”
An idea forms. I smile sweetly and walk to meet Taehyung halfway. His boxy grin widens and just as he thinks I'm going to let him wrap his arms around me, I grab him by the ear.
“Ouch!” He cries, “Devil-woman!”
Ignoring him, I drag him behind me towards the stairs.
“If you wanted to get me alone, you could have just asked—OW!”
My hold on his ear tightens as we arrive on the second-floor landing, “Where are your brothers?”
“I don’t know, n-noona!” Somehow the honorific coming from Tae sounds divine, but I file that thought away for another time.
Removing my hold, I corner him against the wall of the hallway, “Okay, Kim, here’s what is going to happen. You’re going to point me in the direction of your room, go find your six idiot brothers, and then report back here so I can finally understand what the fuck is going on. Got it?”
My chest heaves as my directions conclude and I realize how close together we are. Taehyung stares at me with an indecipherable expression before breaking into a slow smile, “Noona is bossy.”
“Noona is going to shove her foot up your ass if you don’t get moving,” I growl.
“Kinky,” he laughs, backing away from me and my brewing anger, “Last door on the left is my room. I’ll be back with the six idiots.”
As he thumps back down the steps, I close my eyes and count to ten, trying to steel my nerves and rein in my anger. When I open them, my eyes are met with the amused gaze of Min Yoongi.
Slapping a hand to my heart, I wait for my pulse to settle from being scared out of my wits, “Motherfuck—how did you even move that silently?”
“It’s a skill,” Yoongi drawls, nodding towards to end of the hall, “So, group meeting in Tae’s room?”
Shooting him the best side-eye I can muster, I stalk past him, steadfastly ignoring the chuckles and light footfalls that follow behind me.
Throwing open the door which Taehyung indicated was to his room, I pause, taking in the horde of photos and art taped to the four walls. The light blue wallpaper barely peeks through the absolute massive amount of artwork.
“It’s overwhelming at first, isn’t it?” An angelic voice shyly breaks through my reverie, “Tae likes to collect pictures and things he finds beautiful.”
“Ah, so that’s why we’re friends.” The joke is followed by a laugh that can only be compared to the sound of a windshield wiper squeakily moving back and forth.
I shift my eyes from Taehyung’s walls and onto the two newcomers – Park Jimin and Kim Seokjin.
Meeting Seokjin’s gaze first, I cannot help but agree that he is a very, very beautiful man. With pushed back dark hair, mischievous brown eyes and impossibly broad shoulders, Seokjin can easily be mistaken for an idol. And, oh fuck, I’m still staring.
Shooting my eyes back up to his, I crinkle my nose at his shit-eating grin. Before he can even comment, I turn and lock eyes with Jimin.
“Your dancing is gorgeous,” I blurt out and immediately want to crawl under a rock and live out the rest of my life as Patrick Star.
Yoongi and Seokjin are cackling as Jimin’s face lights up at my embarrassing compliment, “You really think so?”
“There's no shutting him up now,” Yoongi is in tears, “Watch out, (y/n). Jimin loves his fans.”
“Shut up, Yoongi-hyung!”
Jimin looks ready to swing, but luckily Taehyung chooses the right moment to return, “What have we missed? Why is Jiminie about to fight Yoongi? I’ll put $10 on hyung.”
Gasping in betrayal, Jimin sits on the edge of Tae’s bed and pouts.
The rest of the boys file in behind Taehyung as he flops down onto his bed and reclines like he doesn’t have a care in the world.
“Hi, (y/n). Good to see you again. I’m glad you’re here,” Namjoon greets me with a slight bow, a crooked smile and wicked eyes.
He’s followed closely by Jung Hoseok, the only BTS boy I hadn’t met thus far, “(y/n)! It’s so nice to meet you in person! Wow, you look so pretty tonight!”
“Noona always looks pretty,” Jungkook cuts in, throwing an arm around Hoseok’s shoulder, “She’s bae.”
A collective groan arises from the rest of the boys. “Sit your ass down, JK,” Yoongi grumbles, “(y/n)’s going to break up with us before we even start dating.”
“Dating—!” I break off that train of thought. Other matters need to be attended to first, “No, I didn’t come here tonight to say ‘hi’ or to be your ‘bae’. I came here to get answers.”
I take my time making eye contact with each boy.
Taehyung is still spread out on his bed and Jimin has now joined him. Seokjin, Hoseok and Jungkook are sprawled out on the floor at the foot of the bed, while Namjoon and Yoongi slouch against the opposite wall of the bedroom facing me.
“Alright,” Namjoon lifts his chin, meeting my stare head on, “What do you want to know?”
a/n: sorry for the cliffhanger, hehe. i wanted to get something up for y’all! hopefully next chapter won’t take too long to finish/edit :)
taglist:
@hazeljrz @sessi03 @catsandstrawberries @h5naaa @meowmeowyoongles@leftflowerprunedonut @rjsmochii @athletes-of-god @karissassirak @weallhavesecretsinthebestway @cvbachacbitch @bewitch3dforivar @honeyspillings @xxonyxpearlxx @fivesecondsofsarang @oii-f-eli-x2 @joonsroses @theevilyouknow @jooniescupcakes @expensive-grl @i-dont-even-know-fck @doingmybestalltheftime @elraeee @fangirling-all-the-way-tbh @laced-brds @aokay1010 @breeeeh17 @lpayne612 @peachyharmoney @rilakoya @chulchuchi @tabula-rasa0 @guccishookv @nomimits7 @i-like-puppy-mg @s-noir @anna-sorel @valiantcollectorofsandwiches @cage7241
blogs that wouldn’t let me tag them for some reason:
@awkwardhumambean
#btswritingcafe#bts#bts fanfic#bts fic#bts x reader#bts smut#bts au#bts imagine#ot7 x reader#bts ot7#namjoon#seokjin#yoongi#hoseok#taehyung#jimin#jungkook#poly bts#college bts#namjoon x reader#seokjin x reader#jungkook x reader#yoongi x reader#hoseok x reader#taehyung x reader#jimin x reader
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Types of Fanfiction AU’S
Enemies to lovers au
This is one of my favorite fanfiction tropes. It’s definitely an extremely common au but it makes sense. Two people have a hatred for one another that turns into a burning love for one another. Ugh I don't know. I feel like it makes for some really hot scenes. Imagine hating someone so much that everything they do just irks you but you can't help but have some hidden feelings for them because they're just so hot when they do literally anything. I don’t know, but I love them and can't really put into words how much they pull me in.
Friends to lovers au
Biggest cliche of all time. But the best stories. Best friends who have harbored crushes on one another for years but kept quiet in fear of ruining the friendship. But then someone else comes along and makes them realize that they care of said best friend and can't live without them and boom. They're together. Lovely. Love them.
Soulmate au
I love soulmate au’s. If I could I would LOVE to live in a world where I have a definite way of knowing who my soulmate is. It’s a cliche but I live for it. There’s so many ways you can link soulmates too. Timers, hearing each others thoughts, having connecting necklaces that nobody else but your soulmate has, tattoos, etc. And to top it off soulmate au’s are almost always beautifully written. It’s a Win Win (wink wink).
Alien invasion au
Okay, I haven't read a lot of au’s that have anything to do with alien invasions but the ONE I have was so good. It was a Namjoon fic and the reader and Joon were actually rivals at first at the academy while training to fight off the aliens. SO FREAKING COOL. These types of fanfiction’s aren't really my favorite because they make my anxiety spike with the thought of aliens really coming to earth and wiping us out but they still make for interesting stories.
Supernatural au
Supernatural au’s are some of my FAVORITES! There’s just something about them that pull me in. Mermen BTS? Yes please. Vampire Stray Kids? Yes lay it on me. Werewolf NCT? Yes just yes. It’s one of my favorite types of au’s because you can do so much with it.
Demon/angel au
Okay, so I know this can go under the supernatural au category but honestly these fanfiction’s deserve to be in their own category. I’ve read a few BTS demon and angel au’s and to say they were some of the best fanfiction’s I've read would be an understatement. Demon BTS is just so attractive. Imagine trying to summon a demon and suddenly MIN FUCKING YOONGI is in your living room and KIM FUCKING SEOKJIN is your guardian angel living next door to protect you from Yoongi who can’t leave because of the spell you used to summon him there. Literally a masterpiece. This is an actual story I read, can’t remember the name though but I’ll try to find it and link it. I’ll link any stories I referenced if I can find them.
Arranged marriage au
I am going to be honest. I don't like these. I don’t read them. I’ve read a few and they weren't bad but they weren't my favorite. But imaging being arranged to marry your bias of any group. I mean obviously normally the bias doesn't even want to be in said arranged marriage but hey, they learn to love you.
Mafia/gang au
I will say this a million times, mafia au’s are hot. I don't know if something is wrong with me but I am insanely attracted to the guys in gangs on Tv shows. Like in Riverdale I am in LOVE with Sweet Pea. Something about a man being part of a gang just brings me in and makes me salivate like Pavlov's dogs. ANYWAYS so imagine my happiness when I realized there's fanfiction about BTS, Stray Kids, NCT, literally any fandom being part of a gang or the mafia. I love these au’s and they are in my top three right next to Soulmate au’s and supernatural au’s. I am big on bad boys and it’s very obvious.
Magic au
I guess a magic au can also go under a supernatural au but man do I love these types of au’s. I recently started a BTS au where the boys are all a different kind of mythical creatures that has to be protected by the reader because someone or something is out to get them and it’s sooooo good. I don’t know just anything magic and fantasy related are great to read for me.
Alien au
I know we have the alien invasion au listed above but this one is a whole other category. This category has to do with aliens but they aren't invading Earth. One of my favorite fanfiction’s of all time is a Taehyung fic where Tae lives on another planet called Sehebon and the reader is part of the Interplanetary Relations Commission, which basically helps planets open up to other planets I guess? I don’t know how to explain but anyways, the reader is there to give the Interplanetary Relations Commission information on Izo Huen and its citizens. Reader meets Tae, Tae likes reader because she's a small human and he wants to learn more about Earth. This fanfic is called Sehebon by httpjeon. It is such a good fanfiction. I definitely recommend reading it! I love these types of alien fanfiction’s because they don't bring the war between human’s an aliens that alien invasion au’s do but instead bring two completely different species from different planets or even galaxies together.
Prison au
Much like the alien invasion au I have only ever read one prison au. I don’t remember much about it other than Namjoon saving the reader from getting hurt when she first arrives and she becomes part of their group. She ends up with Taehyung but the reader gets amnesia and yea. The fanfiction was great but not my favorite because of the ending. I’ve realized I'm a sucker for happy endings and sad ending’s just make my anxiety worse. BUT that doesn't mean the fanfic I just mentioned was bad. It was far from that. It was so good that it actually snagged itself a spot on my top 10 favorite fanfics.
When did this turn into me just saying my favorite fanfics instead of explaining what happens in the au’s usually? Anyways if you have any other types of fanfiction au’s you think I should cover let me know! OH! Below are links to each fanfic I talked about and can find!
Alien Tae au mentioned: Sehebon by @httpjeon
Magic BTS au mentioned: Different Skins by @writersrealmbts link goes to a masterlist for multiple stories! Different Skin’s is the second on the list.
Alien Invasion Namjoon au mentioned: Taking Flight by @rmnamjoons
Demon Yoongi Au mentioned: La Douleur Exquise by @cinnaminsvga
BTS Prison au mentioned: A Real Memory by always5hinee on Quotev
#types of au's#types of fanfiction au's#bts au fic#bts#stray kids#nct#fanfictions#kim namjoon#kim seokjin#min yoongi#jung hoseok#park jimin#kim taehyung#jeon jungkook#bang chan#lee know#lee minho#seo changbin#hwang hyunjin#han jisung#lee felix#kim seungmin#yang jeongin#i.n#lee taeyong#moon taeil#johnny suh#nakamoto yuta#qian kun#kim doyoung
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3. winless fight
part 3 of HOAX series | din djarin x f!reader (au)
ao3 | my masterlist
summary: when you promised the Empire that you would destroy Mandalore, you did not expect that approximating your old friend would become yet another obstacle in your hoax. Suddenly, to know Din Djarin was to watch the death of your past plans and, at the same time, the creation of a faithless love.
warnings: this part is about war, literally. mentions of blood, death and injuries. emotional vulnerable din. season 2 spoilers. but don't worry, next one is all about romance | word count: 2k
thanks @mrpascals for the review <3
About ten Mandalorians stared intently at the Mand'alor instructions in the meeting room. All war strategies were taught by him in a didactic way and all questions were calmly answered. You were there for about ten minutes, waiting for your permission to speak. Bo Katan and Vizla often questioned Din about his tactics, but the two seemed to have opposite ideas. Din acted as a mediator between the polarities in the room.
"Can the Empire's presence be confirmed?" The Mand’alor asked, bringing you back to the present moment.
“I did a meticulous analysis. It was, in fact, a kind of BT-1, the ancient droid of Darth Vader.” All the Mandalorians began to whisper upon hearing the famous name, while Din continued to stare at you. “But that doesn't mean anything. The circumscribed initials are from a disabled imperial cruiser. And believe me, the Empire would not send messages or threats in the form of carcasses.”
Silence filled the room for a few seconds until Din’s voice echoed between the walls:
“You may leave. Kaya, please stay.”
It was surprising how everything was going according to your plan. Every person who left the room stared at you, especially Bo Katan - you already knew her from past situations, but her crystal eyes seemed to burn you when they analyzed you from head to toes.
Approaching Din after the last soldier left, you noticed that the visor was facing a specific place: Keldabe, the old capital. He seemed to have lost himself in his thoughts, so you decided to start a conversation.
"Din, if I may ask…" he turned to you, "Why are you so sure an imperial invasion will happen?"
"Because I screwed up Moff Gideon's plans." The tone of his voice as he spoke that very specific name sent goosebumps through your body. You kept staring at the helmet, waiting for him to explain even though you already knew what happened. “The child… Grogu was special. He is special… He was important to the Empire”
“Grogu…” you repeated the name, as an affirmation.
“Moff gave me the darksaber so easily, and laughed at Bo Katan's frustration when she saw me with the weapon that she wanted so badly… But he didn't care, as long as he had the kid.” His voice cracked. You could swear his eyes were teary. “But he didn't expect… No one expected a Jedi to save Grogu. Gideon shivered in fear as Luke Skywalker destroyed all of his droids, and he did it all alone.” The last word was said almost in a whisper. “The Empire does not dare to challenge him to get Grogu back, not without the saber that is now in my hands…”
“And you are sure that they will come because they know that Mandalore is already too weak to fight...”
Your words were chosen carefully. Din turned to face the board, and his left hand held a miniature of a Mandalorian soldier so tightly that you could only see half the helmet escaping between his thumb and forefinger. In that instant, you knew it was the perfect time for your next move because it was clear that Din took everyone out of the room to be alone with you, so he could be vulnerable. He trusted you enough to let you watch even the human being behind the tiniest beskar slowly slip between his fingers.
“Din, you saved my life… and it was so easy for you…” stepping closer, you took his hand between yours. The black glove was rough on your skin, but you didn't hesitate to draw small invisible circles over it with your thumb until Din was slowly undoing his fist. “I noticed, two different groups are respecting you and they are all fine… The child, Grogu, is fine” the miniature Mandalorian soldier was already a little crumpled, but you kept it on his palm. "There is no other Mandalorian with more honor than you."
When you finished the sentence, Din tried to remove his hand, but you pulled him by the fingers. The miniature fell to the ground, but the loud sound its fall produced was unimportant when you decided to hold his right hand as well. His hands were so big that they covered yours, but you found a way to fit them between your palms.
"I did what I had to do." His voice cracked.
“You did so much more…” you looked directly into the visor, trying to meet his eyes. “He wasn't your son and you crossed the galaxy to rescue him, you fought ruthlessly against villains to have him back… That's all Mandalore needs, a protector, a lover…”
“It was this love for him that made me less Mandalorian.”
The words came out with tremendous anger and pain. His hands dropped yours into the air, making you realize again how cold Mandalore's air was today and how he had warmed you. You rubbed your palms together to recover from the heat shock, while his last sentence still echoed in your ears. What made him less Mandalorian and yet worthy of the Crown? What had Moff Gideon not told you?
"Din, I-"
"Sir!" A child in mandalorian armor ran across the room to Din, leaving your words stuck in your throat. "Mand’alor, the Empire is here!"
His exit from the room was so fast that you almost didn't see it, and in the seconds you tried to process what had just happened, the first imperial attack came upon the skies: you saw through the window that the place you admired, where the children were playing yesterday, was already on fire.
"Kaya!" The same child who alerted Din called you, pulling you by your cloak. "The Mand'alor told me to give this to you." He handed a key into your hands. "He told you to take your weapons and go to the Great Room: Burc'ya vaal burk'yc, burc'ya veman."
The key was to the Kyr'bes Room, you deduced. Din had given you the key to the entire Mandalorian arsenal, unaware that you were the greatest imperial weapon - and you were pointed directly at him.
(...)
The next few moments went out so fast that you didn't have time to think. With the key in your hand, you opened the room and searched for your weapons. The rest of the arsenal was made of the kind of weapons that not even the soldiers could carry with their bodies and that would, therefore, also be useless to you. Din's voice echoed down the hall, mixed with the screams and doors being rashly shut.
With your weapons, you ran to the Great Room, the same one you were greeted in. Din was standing next to his throne, in front of hundreds of Mandalorians, all facing their Mand'alor.
“…and you know they only want me. So protect your ade, Mandalore's future must remain safe"
All the children were taken to a corridor on the right, and you noticed that none of them hesitated or cried. This was the most beautiful example of how Mandalore culture raised their warriors.
“We know all the strategies and we know that there are no better creatures than the Mandalorians when it comes to wars. But we also know that our weakness is in our differences. Don't you dare fall into the imperial tactic of playing us against each other… this is the oldest trick in the galaxy, and it always works.”
Din took his darksaber and walked across the room until he was face-to-face with Bo Katan.
“Someone once told me: Mandalorians are stronger together. This is the way.”
The huge doors began to open as some Mandalorians put on their helmets and took up position. The Mand'alor, in front of them all, held his saber in his right hand and the beskar spear in his left. You saw at the opening, the glare of the imperial bombs hitting the planet's ground.
“Aruetii! Aru'ela!” someone in the crowd shouted. You knew what it meant: foreigner, enemy.
Suddenly, the doors closed again. The rattling of armor echoed off the palace walls and all the Mandalorians turned against you. All the blood in your body was frozen.
One of them, in blue armor, came out of the crowd with a spear similar to Din's and pointed it at you, positioning it right in your chest. You almost acted on impulse and wrenched the spear from your body to start a fight, but Din's visor — highlighted over the crowd by the reflection of the darksaber's light — made you hesitate.
"What are you implying?" You tried to speak as calmly as possible.
"You entered the room confirming that this was an imperial droid. In the next moment, they are already on our planet. Aru'ela!”
Shit. Moff was a real son of a bitch. You weren't even allowed to take control of the situation… you were, really, just an imperial doll who needed to find a quick way out.
“Can't you smell smoke under your helmet? Your planet is coming-”
“Aru'ela!” this time, everyone screamed. Dozens of soldiers raised their weapons in your direction.
"KE'MOT!" Din's scream followed by the sound of the spear hitting one of the doors made everyone fall silent. In the next instant, everyone turned to him, except the man holding the spear, at which point was almost ripping off your clothing.
The doors opened again, probably on Din's orders, but you were too nervous to be sure. Then everyone shifted their bodies and turned their weapons down. The blue soldier with the spear ran the point down your neck, but without hurting you, just as a warning which you understood very well. When the entire doors were open, the crowd went out towards the battlefield that had become the Palace garden. It wasn't hard to tell Din apart from the rest of the crowd: his darksaber cut through every droid and every stormtrooper in just one try.
[...]
You were fighting for Mandalore. Everything you've done so far resulted at that moment when you decided to hurt the first stormtrooper - but this one seemed insignificant when you lost count of how many you'd already killed. You were an intruder, an aruetii, fighting for the wrong side as hard as your body and heart could - and you were already feeling the effects of that effort. Your now weak arms acted like an instrument of annihilation and your legs tried to find a balance between the bodies of imperial soldiers on the ground. Your entire physique felt like a death machine on autopilot. Nothing stopped you until you realized there were no more stormtroopers around, at the same moment when your eyes caught the glimmer of Din's darksaber against Moff Gideon's neck, and an imperial weapon bigger than an X-WING directed to the Mandalorian Palace.
From the distance you were, and the weakness your body was at, you couldn't see much beyond blurs. All the Mandalorians around had guns pointed at the Empire - which at that moment, as far as you could see, was just Moff Gideon and a dozen private soldiers. The instant you've managed to open your eyes again, the glow of Din's saber seems to have faded and you saw Gideon walk toward his ship. The imperial weapon was dragged into the cruiser, and everything disappeared into the sky.
When there was nothing else to distract you, your exhaustion took over. Your legs could no longer support the weight of your body, making your knees ache as you hit the sand floor. As you tried to draw in more oxygen, the right side of your body throbbed as if it had been burned. Sitting on your feet, you brought your hands up to your ribs, and shit, you were bleeding.
If there was anything in the galaxy that was divine, you'd be sure to beg now so you could at least get away near some body of water. You haven't seen or felt clean, natural water since you were a child when everything was still fine. In your dreams, you imagined your death with the sound of a lake in the background, but all you could make out at that moment was the sound of someone approaching you and beskar material crashing against some surface.
“Cyare… what did you do?”
-----
Part 4
@la-lunaluna @meetmwhallway
let me know if you want to be added on the taglist :)
#din djarin x reader#the mandalorian x ofc#the mandalorian x female oc#din djarin x you#king!din djarin#royality au#the mandalorian fanfiction#pedro pascal fanfiction
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Masterlist 34
(****) = suggestive
General
the longest they've gone without doing the do (lf ot)******
most excited to go on a rollercoaster
SO wants company when upset, but doesn't want to talk (fs ut sf)
crush asks to pet their gaster blaster (lf st ul)
their favorite flower/fruit goes extinct (farmers + dt)
the rich boys have a SO who isn't used to money being spent on them (lf drt)
hogwarts houses (uw ht flt bt)
when their shop got broken into
his pet traps SO
crush accidentally burns themselves (ut uf ht)
SO is affectionate after he wrecks them (ut uf hf ht fsg)****
his pp gets bigger/smaller (gears maple)*****
alien invasion (sf hfm tt dt)
SO is temporarily blind
SO can flirt but cant be flirted with (mf lf lsf uf)
SO jokes his dong is too big (nt ft)****
SO wears thigh highs and his shirt (lf mf +brothels)****
they're cursed with the truth (marcelo papyrus captain chaos red)
the bauble and flavor siblings home
wedding vows (fsg fsr)
gaster comes back from the dead
doing a presentation (nt ff hfm fs sf)
gay sex wins, fatality (brothels + fsg lf)**
monkey paw clown nose
he's cursed to speak backwards for a week
board games (brothel + bf fs)
pigs blood (drf tht fs ss lf)
non sexual intimacies (brothel + fs bf)
kid comes home with disrespectful date
object becomes sentient (flt ss gt hfm bs)
voice actor SO (uf lsf mf lf fsg)
karen fights for them (basil Sugar, Pluto, Peaches, Cider, Compass, Sparks, Finn, Quill and Papaya)
their brother is lv sick (fsg sf)
first date (cash mutt weasel pesto gold coffee)
tv laugh track (tht ut)
SO has vertigo (bf + brothel)
SO has a cursed job (ut bbt os)
crush accidentally burns themselves (ht uf ut)
SO is dazed after getting railed lol (ut uf ht hf fsg)****
Interactions
how the ut uf us bros handled meeting their horror counterparts
Worldbuilding
what was wines and coffees mother like?
the horrorfell civil war
strongest and weakest ten update
other heat cycle species seasons**
more snail breeds
how the old farm aus are doing without the monsters
temmies children kevin
difference between fae born monsters and normal ones
night sky in ebott
can skeletons choke
Heat changes (all)****
How many fingers to kitsune have. And more wing info for birdtale
spunions axelaterals and lavender quarts
sky serpents, and what form do slime monsters take
how does one become a prince
pet taxes and registration
animal bias and needlecones
fire elementals dealing with rain and ebotts grade system
why is dual colored magic "ugly"
ogres swiftees bugbear
skeleton bones vs human bones + how breaks heal
how smooshable are the skeletons (featuring quill)
fortune telling?
most common ecto color (all monster types)
whos now the main mafia? (rps only)
common monster names
train system
EBOTT MAP first draft + where the skeletons live
more random monster behaviors
side characters
juniper devi argo
blight dwight their parents
more rich b*tches
Damocles Cassia (and vlock info)
Diane Swann (and vila info)
Royals
MEET THE ROYALS
what they look like
vamp and duchess' mates
Poseidon and Salacia's children
Undertale
sans kid is a changeling
fellswap red
mutt and oblivious SO
swapfell
mal and vila SO
cash and oblivious SO
Mafias
roulette comes back from the dead
angst
bruisers SO reveals they're a selkie
maid SO**
flavortale
taffy gets cheated on
Hadaltale
silex gets cheated on
outertale
Jupiter gets cheated on
fellswap gold
if wine and coffees mother had survived
coffees braces
the brothel
do they regret taking the lust serum?
did they have to take the lust serum
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