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jeonbunnie · 8 months

Text

promises

pairing: reader x namjoon

summary: marriage life with namjoon hasn’t been the same lately. he’s been cold and distant, always whispering on the phone. and you can’t help but notice…

genre: angst

content/warnings: established relationship; married!au; idol!namjoon; cheating/infidelity; implied sex; eventual smut; explicit sex

soundtrack: lemonade by beyoncé

a/n: this used to be a series but I decided to rework it into a oneshot. The plot is mostly the same, however now the reader gets to choose the big decision at the end (kind of like a choose your own adventure).

word count: 18k

Pray you catch me

♪ you can taste the dishonesty/ it's all over your breath, as you pass it off so cavalier. but even that's a test/constantly aware of it all/my lonely ear/pressed against the walls of your world. ♪

. . .

Something is wrong.

You don’t know how or when things changed, but something shifted between the two of you. There is a distance now, more tangible than the miles that separate you from him when he’s on business trips. Farther than the long-distance phone calls that became less and less frequent. Even now, as you lay in the same bed with him only a few feet away you can tell.

Something is wrong.

Because you can’t remember a time when you and Namjoon had ever been so far apart.

He would always come home late at night. Languid footsteps trailing towards the bedroom. Eyes tired and red from too many hours spent awake working on the newest album. Gravity pulled him down in a slump that could only be from the heaviness of leadership, from carrying the weight of the entire group.

And though he was exhausted, he would still find a way to come and take care of you. Even dead-tired, his warm brown eyes would light up and his lips would curl at the sight of you. He’d make his way over and pull you close, until your bodies became an entangled mess of arms and legs, chests pressed together as you curled into each other's warmth. His fingers would run soothingly through your hair and he’d ask you how your day went. The moments you spent within his arms seemed to make even the bad days good.

But it's been a long time since your husband held you close and melted away your bad days.

The clock on your nightstand reads 1:23 AM in angry red letters when his phone goes off in the middle of the night. You can hear the sheets rustle and feel whatever is left of his presence slip away as he sits up, answering on the second ring. “Hello?” Before you can even stop yourself the words are flying out of your mouth. “Who is it?”

The woman who speaks sounds nothing like you. Her voice is broken and fragile, spiked with worry and fear. He shrugs his shoulders and rolls his eyes because, “It’s just Yoongi.” The lie rolls off his tongue effortlessly. You are already hurting and the way he brushes you off tears right through you.

It’s not Yoongi. You know better. Your husband’s best friend loves his sleep and would never stir in the middle of the night. You want to confront him, put all your thoughts out in the open but before you can even gather the courage, he stands up, makes his way across the room and closes the door behind him, leaving you alone.

Again.

Somehow you can’t decide what’s more unsettling: the loneliness you feel when your husband leaves or the loneliness you feel when he’s around.

You are too unnerved to go back to sleep. Not that you are sleeping anyways. Now that you are truly awake to the situation before you, sleep does not come. You’ve been staying up for days, eyes wide open. But it was more than just insomnia. Your mind is awake with all the possibilities, visualizing every single scenario. You can’t close your eyes because in an instant you are there. Thinking about it all over again. You can't ignore it, nor pretend not to see it. You are not blind anymore. And so sleep does not come.

With every nerve on edge you throw back the covers and swing your legs out of bed. You can’t just lay there trapped within your own mind. You need a distraction—any distraction from the truth. Even if the only release you can find is putting your body into motion. You find yourself pacing back and forth, frazzled energy bouncing from one point to another.

Until you hear him laugh. It’s a deep and throaty noise that breaks through the walls and interrupts your racing thoughts. You find yourself tiptoeing closer to the sound, trying to be as quiet as you possibly can so you can creep up and press your ear up against the door to listen. How desperate you are, eavesdropping like this. You feel ashamed for sinking this low, but that shame does not stop you from wondering if you should get the glass from your nightstand so you can hear him better. If you could only hear what he was saying! But the words are muffled, like he’s talking underwater.

He used to talk to you all the time, share his innermost thoughts, his nightmares, his dreams. Talk to you about everything and nothing. Work and play. Past and present. But now, nothing.

Now all you got were glimpses of his world.

You used to be his world.

The realization leaves you cold and you press yourself closer to the light trickling through the cracked door. You can see him now. His back is turned towards you and he’s hunched over, phone clutched to his ear like he’s trying to keep all his secrets from spilling out of it. In that moment, you pray he will turn around so you can read his lips and decode whatever it is he’s whispering huskily into the receiver. You pray he will turn around and catch you. You wonder what he will do. Will he jump? Will he be angry?

Ironically, out of all the times you’ve prayed for God to answer you during your marriage, this is the prayer God answers because it happens. He turns around.

You expect to see the face of a cruel man. You could not have prepared yourself for what you do see. Because when he finally turns around, it’s not the face of a monster, but the face of your first love. Namjoon is smiling. Smiling. This is the moment your heart breaks. When was the last time he smiled at you like that? Pink lips pulled back, pearly whites gleaming. Dimples flashing in his cheeks. The way his eyes squint into tiny crescent moons.

When was the last time he smiled at you like that? You can’t remember. Your mind flickers through the memories filed in your head, though each image never seems to be quite right. Maybe because they are now clouded with suspicion. Was that last smile real? Or merely a mask?

The fact that you can’t be sure made you anxious. You can’t tell the difference because you didn’t know him anymore. Where was the man you loved? This person you do not recognize. His eyes are dark, lit with the desire you once thought was only reserved for you. You watch as his lips curl from a smile into a wicked grin.

Something is wrong.

You tried to fix it. The problem. You. It had you be you, didn’t it? Maybe he wanted someone more gentle. You tried to be meek, mild, and kind. Soft spoken, as you were always previously so assertive. You didn’t want to chase him off with harsh words or accusations. You wanted to be what he wanted. You thought that maybe he wanted someone sexy, so you tried to be that too. You made your eyes smokey and put on red dresses, even though you hated the color red. You wanted to be enough. You tried everything to get his attention, but it made no difference. You still ended up in this exact moment.

A sigh slips past your lips, almost a whimper. It’s the sound of loss.

This is when he sees you.

His smile disappears. Then he walks forward and closes the door in your face, shutting out the light and leaving you in darkness.

. . .

When he comes back to bed—wearing a scent that is distinctly not yours—it’s 5AM. He kisses your forehead and climbs underneath the sheets, yet the distance between you remains. Maybe you already know the answer to the questions that keep swirling in your mind. You don't want to believe that he broke his vows. But that hope does not stop the doubt you feel every time you look at his face.

Are you cheating on me?

Don’t Hurt Yourself

♪ I am the dragon breathing fire. Beautiful man I’m the lion Beautiful man I know you’re lying…. ♪

. . .

It is quiet in your house. The sun and it’s warm amber glow have long since disappeared, fading into black. The stillness is unusual. Normally you hate such things, always needing some sort of noise playing in the background like the tv or the radio while you clean up and do work, but not today. You need the silence so you can collect your thoughts and prepare yourself for what you are about to do.

You are done being passive. Sick and tired of sitting and waiting around for a man who did not so much as blink an eye at you. You are done crying. You already cried so much. All your tears have dried up and gone away. You can’t bring yourself to be sad anymore. There isn’t any room for you to hold inside two emotions. Especially when all you can feel now is anger.

You are mad as hell.

So you came home from work and sat down on the couch, waiting on him for one last time. Head held high, poised and collected. Muscles coiled and ready to pounce.

Just like clockwork, keys slide into the door and Namjoon comes in at a quarter to three, completely unaware of the situation he just stepped into. Looking up he stops, surprised to find you sitting in the living room. He can feel something is off. Sense it in your body language, see the difference in your eyes. For a minute, he wonders if you know what he’s been doing all night long...but that’s impossible right? How could you possibly know?

But you did know.

You watched nonchalantly as he flashed a casual grin your way. “Hey babe...what are you doing up so late?“ You didn’t respond right away, taking the time to examine him closely before you decide to speak.

“Where were you tonight?”

The second the words leave your mouth there’s a shift in the atmosphere. Thick silence fills the space between you, but your eyes never leave him. You see him blink, catch the bob of his adam’s apple as he swallows down a gulp, note a flicker of emotion pass in his face too brief to figure out the expression. Was that fear? Was he nervous?

But then he laughs. It’s almost a scoff as his eyebrows pull together he shakes his head in what masks as confusion. “What?”

“I know you heard me Namjoon, I’m not going to ask you again.”

“What are you talking about? I was with the guys tonight, we—”

“Don’t,” you stop him, holding up a hand. ”Don’t do that. Don’t lie to my face. I am so tired of you lying to me, please for once just be honest.”

He doesn’t say a word, only sighs and runs his fingers through silver locks and as unsatisfactory as it is, you realize this action is the closest you’ll ever get to a confession. But it’s not enough. Your hands come up to rest on your face almost like prayer before you ask your next question.

“Did you sleep with her?”

“God (Y/N), are we really doing this right now?”

Anger presses up against your chest and before you know it, you’re on your feet. “Yes, Namjoon, we are really doing this right now. Because I can’t stand one more minute of this fake marriage. I’m not stupid. I see you! And I’m not going to pretend like I don’t anymore.”

“Fine. Fine! What do you want me to say, huh? What do you want?”

“I want the truth!”

He fixes his gaze, eyes locked on you. “Oh, you want the truth? Ok here’s the truth. Yes, I was with her tonight, and yes I fucked her, and it was the best goddamn fuck I’ve had in months. Is that what you wanted to hear? Are you happy now?”

His words hit you like a bullet to the heart. No, you weren’t happy. You wanted his candor but not this. His tone...the way he was talking to you...You almost couldn’t believe it. How could he? The man you called your husband would never so much as raise his voice towards you. Yet here he was, spitting out cruelty. The brutality of his words mixed with his contempt was too much. Your nails dug into the couch as you tried to steady yourself, tried to push through the pain.

Your mind was swimming with information, trying to come to terms with the new knowledge but one question still lingered. You had to ask:

“Why?”

“Fuck, why? I’m on tour all the time, It’s not like you’re around?”

Are you kidding me?

Whatever pain you felt quickly turned to anger and you whipped around to face him.

“Who the fuck do you think I am Namjoon?! You didn’t marry one of your little groupies. I have a job and a life! I can’t just drop everything and follow you around the world like some love-sick puppy!”

“Yeah well, maybe if you did I wouldn’t have needed to find someone else.”

The nerve of this man!

“So you want my entire world to revolve around you? You are so selfish! As if I don’t already do everything for you. I cook, when you come home at night there’s dinner on the table. I keep this house spotless, but it’s not like you’re even here to notice--”

“I’m not here cuz I’m too busy working the job that got you this house in the first place!”

“Wow. So it’s ok for you to be away from me on your job, but if I can’t be there for you then I’m the problem?” You stared him in the face, only to be met with a glare to rival your own.

“You’re a real piece of work Namjoon.”

How is it that he could look at your relationship and see only your flaws, but never his own? You should have known better than to put all your faith in a man with a god-complex. He only ever cared about himself and his own career. All he had were excuses. You started to walk away from him when his next words stopped you in your tracks.

“Oh please, don’t act like you’re so perfect. It’s not like you haven’t done it.”

You cast an incredulous look over your shoulder. “Excuse me?”

Just what is he trying to imply?

Namjoon rolled his eyes. “Now who’s playing dumb. I’m not stupid either, I know you’re seeing him behind my back.”

This again? “How many times do I have to tell you, Jackson is just a friend.”

“You’re a fucking liar. He doesn’t look at you like ‘just a friend’, I know you slept with him.”

Now you were furious. You took several steps towards him till you were so close you could feel his heated breath on your face. “Let’s not get it twisted, I’m not the cheater—You are!” you said, jabbing a finger into his chest. “You don’t get to put this on me! You and I both know I’m not the one who’s unfaithful!”

By the end of your sentence you found yourself out of breath, panting. You were shouting the entire time. Unable to keep the fire inside; your fury, abated. You looked at your husband, finally eye to eye and sighed.

“I wouldn’t do that to you.” You spoke, your voice coming out much softer than either of you had expected. “I wouldn't do anything to disrespect you like the way you disrespect me.”

Once again silence swelled within the room and all you could do was look at him and wonder how you had ended up here. The two of you never used to fight, not like this. It was never this bad. But things were different now.

“W-why did you do this to me? To us?” On your wedding day you both took vows to be united as one in this relationship. He was hurting himself just as much as he was hurting you but he was so wrapped up in his own pride that he couldn't see it.

“Are you even sorry?”

Namjoon didn't say a word.

You closed your eyes and counted to ten, trying to find some kind of peace. But by the time you finished counting your anger still hadn't subsided. You couldn't find peace because there was no peace here.

Everything in this relationship was so, so hard. You couldn't pick up the broken shards of your relationship all by yourself and he wasn't even trying to fix it.

“I can't—I can't do this anymore”

Namjoon narrowed his eyes. “Can't do what anymore?”

“This!” You yelled, throwing your arms out.

“You. Me. Us. I can’t do it anymore and I don't want to.”

And with that you spun on your heel making a direct line for the bedroom. You could hear him follow behind you, but you didn't care. Your mind was focusing on something else now.

All you cared about was getting the hell out of there. You went into the closet and pulled out an overnight bag, snatching clothes off hangers and stuffing them inside.

“What are you doing?”

You had to laugh at his question. “Isn’t it obvious? I’m leaving you.”

You didn’t stop packing. After taking out enough clothes you grabbed your bag and walked out of the closet. On your way you caught a glimpse of Namjoon with a blank expression on his face.

“Don’t tell me you're actually surprised?”

Brushing past him, you made your way to the bathroom. “I was so blindly in love with you that even when I knew—I knew what you were doing, I tried to stay. But I deserve better. I deserve so much more than you.”

After gathering the rest of your stuff you turn around to walk out the door only to find Namjoon leaning against the frame. Taking in his image made your steps falter.

He looked strong and athletic in a white muscle tee. His arms were crossed over his chest, a gesture built out of displeasure, but only served to highlight the curve of his biceps. When you finally tore your eyes away from his body and up to look at his face, you sighed. He was clenching his jaw, showing off all his angles while his lips pushed out into the perfect pout. His eyes as always were dark, intense, and fixed on you.

Well, not always fixed on you.

He was so beautiful and you hated him for it. Or rather how he made you feel. He could still make your heart skip a beat even as it was breaking.

Yes, you still loved him. But clearly his love for you didn’t run quite as deep.

“So what now? You want a divorce? You signed the prenup. You're not going to get any money out of me.” He growled, voice deep and raspy.

There he goes again, always so damn arrogant…..His words served as a reminder. This is why you had to go. You broke eye contact, concentrating on zipping up your bag. “You can keep your money. I’ve got my own, and I can take care of myself.”

You crossed in front of him, swiftly taking a pair shoes then sitting on the bed to put them on. It dawned on you that he didn’t even ask you to stay. But then again, although it hurt to make this decision, you didn’t have to blink away any tears.

“Where the fuck are you going?”

You laced up your shoes, pulling the strings tight. “I don’t know.” You snapped. “Since you seem to think all I do is sneak around behind your back, maybe I’ll go see Jackson. Or maybe I’ll go out and find me another man. All I know is, I’m never coming back to you. I can promise you that.”

You weren’t playing nice but you were honestly so done with his attitude, mistreatment, and all the pain he caused you. Confident in your decision, you got your bag and stood up, striding towards the exit.

“Hey!”

You ignored him.

“Don’t walk away from me when I’m talking to you!”

“Kiss my ass, Namjoon!” You sassed, walking out the door and out of his life.

Resentment

♪ I may never understand why. I’m doing the best that I can. And I tried, and I tried to forget this. But I’m much too full of resentment…

. . .

Kim Namjoon knew you would probably leave him if you found out about his affair.

You weren’t the type of woman to let yourself be walked all over, and honestly he was surprised you’d let him get away with it for so long. For months you put up with the late night calls, the sneaking around, the constant lies...And he watched the light dim in your eyes as he broke his vows. It wasn’t like he wanted to cheat on you—not at first.

But anytime he was away from you on tour he just got so lonely.

Sure he had his bandmates and his fans but when the stage lights turned off and the cheers died down none of that was enough to keep him going. Whenever he got by himself it’s like the floodgates opened up. And all the pressure, the high expectations, the push for success, the hate, all of it came washing over him.

And Namjoon felt like he was drowning in it.

As much as he wanted to tell you what ailed him, he didn’t wanna put you under any more stress. You were already constantly worrying about his welfare, filled to the brim with your own concerns. He didn’t think it fair to make you shoulder his burdens as well. But holding all his feelings inside only made things worse.

The helplessness, the anxiety...he just wanted to make it go away. Even if only for a moment. And that’s all it was. A moment of weakness.

The first time it happened he regretted it immediately. He stayed up the whole night, staring at the ceiling, consumed by his guilt. It was the biggest mistake he had ever made. He planned to go home and just come clean, tell you everything that happened. Then beg and beg for your forgiveness.

All he could do on the plane ride back home was pray to God you would somehow take him back.

But then he saw your face. The bright smile you gave him when he walked in the door and heard the joy in your voice as you greeted him. Felt your love as you curled into his embrace, nudged your head in the crook of his neck and whispered “I missed you so much”.

How could he tell you the truth then? How could he tell you what he had done, that he’d broken his promise and given himself to another? He wasn’t even on stage, yet here you were, looking at him with stars in your eyes. You were the only person who truly knew him, flaws included, and despite it all you still loved him.

He couldn’t watch the love and devotion in your eyes turn to hatred and disgust. He couldn’t cope with the reality of the situation. The fact that your heart might close to him forever, that you might leave him.

And then he’d really be alone.

No, that couldn’t happen. If you left..? At the time, he hadn’t wanted to even think about it. So instead of doing the right thing and being honest he closed himself off. If only to keep himself from breaking down. Everytime he looked at you he felt ashamed of his actions. It didn’t feel right, lying to you. Maintaining a distance was the only way he could keep his secret a secret.

The second time it happened, it wasn’t a mistake. A mistake repeated more than once is a decision. And when temptation swept by, manifesting itself in long legs and a warm body to hold at night, Namjoon couldn’t resist.

The guilt hit him just as hard, if not harder than the last time. If he had to face you in that moment without a doubt he would have spilled out all the ugly truth. But it didn’t happen that way. He was on tour for an even longer time than usual, and the separation gave him more than enough time to compose himself, to bury the guilt far enough where it would not resurface. But in doing so he had to become a different person to you. Hard. Cold to the touch.

It affected him as much as it affected you. With every shrug and look of indifference, every evasion he could feel himself slipping further and further away from the man he wanted to be, from the man that you deserved.

And yet, he couldn’t find it in himself to stop.

The third time it happened, you knew. Even now he couldn’t figure out what tipped you off. He knew there wasn’t any lipstick on his cheek or lingering perfume (Namjoon was stupid for cheating, but he wasn’t that stupid). Nothing tangible to hold your suspicion but you felt it. You questioned him, asking things like ‘what’s wrong?’ and ‘did something happen tonight?’, each inquiry only put him on edge and he snapped at you, starting a fight to distract you from the truth.

That night he left home, seeking comfort in the arms of the first girl he cheated with. He crossed a line that night. He knew he shouldn’t have met with her. But she already put her number in his phone and he was too much of a coward to be left alone with his thoughts in a hotel room. But in doing so he opened up pandora's box. He lay in her bed as she stroked his ego, telling him how important he was, how much better he deserved.

And soon enough he started to believe it. That he was better than you and that you were somehow, not enough for him. His superiority somehow justified him stepping outside his marriage. He found himself faultless, thinking it was your job to keep his interest and if he wasn’t happy, it was only his right to seek out happiness elsewhere.

But now, sitting alone in this dark house, all Namjoon could see was how wrong he was. So very, very wrong.

Months. You’ve been gone for months now. At first, he barely missed you. He didn’t have to. The very next day he had to fly out to Tokyo for a concert and he went back to his regular routine. Practice. Performing. Parties. The occasional girl to keep him satisfied. He didn’t need you then. And why would he? When he had all the people surrounding him, screaming his name. Singing his praises. He had no need to miss you until he went home. And that's when reality sunk in.

He came home to more than just an empty house. As the days rolled by he came to realize just how much you took care of him. Not just as a homemaker but as a mate. You were his heart, the sun and moon, his entire world. Namjoon could have killed the man who said you don’t know what you have until it’s gone because as cliché as it was, the expression couldn’t have been more accurate and the truth stabbed him like a knife.

The loneliness he felt when without you was ten times worse than when he was with you.

Your presence had a bigger impact on him than he could have imagined. Something about your ambience was instantly calming. Even if you weren’t doing anything together, whether it be just sitting on the couch or laying in bed beside him your being there gave him peace.

He tried to fill the void, find your image in the millions of girls that threw themselves at him, the women he led to his bed deep within the night. But there was no recreating you.

Namjoon hadn’t known peace since the day you left.

If it was possible he was even more restless than before. He couldn’t even remember the last time he had a full night's sleep. It had to be retribution for all the nights he kept you awake with the creeping thoughts of his betrayal. You, the love of his life, who he took for granted.

He ruined the best thing that ever happened to him, for his own selfish desires.

All because he lied.

And now all he wanted was a chance to get you back.

He pulled out his cell phone, trying to reach you again. He couldn’t keep track of all the times he called your phone, only to be met with your voicemail.

When he watched you walk out that door…a part of him hadn’t really recognized it as real. He was too full of himself to see it happening. His ego told him you’d be back, that you wouldn’t—couldn’t—really leave him. You’d cool off for a couple of days, then come back and try to make things work because that’s the type of person that you were.

He knew you were strong. Strong enough to move past his mistakes. He just didn’t know you were strong enough to move past him entirely.

Namjoon runs a hand across his face, dials your number, and prays. He’s not necessarily sure who or what he’s praying to, but he could really use a miracle right now. Because that’s what it would take for you to actually pick up the phone.

“(Y/n) please, please pick up.”

The phone rings once, twice, three times and then—

"We're sorry; you have reached a number that has been disconnected or is no longer in service.”

He hangs up, angry.

He doesn’t have the right to be angry, that much he knows. Mercy and grace from the woman he scorned is far too much to ask for, but he needs you, and he’s desperate, so he’s asking anyway.

Namjoon foolishly made the mistake of thinking that you couldn't live without him. But it was he who was the one who couldn’t live without you.

So he’ll keep calling. Even if it only goes to voicemail. He’ll keep leaving message after message after message.

Whatever it takes.

…

♪ I may never understand why. I'm doing the best that I can. And I tried, and I tried to forget this. But I'm much too full of resentment...♪

…

You wake up to the sound of your phone ringing. You didn’t have to check caller ID to know who was on the other side of that line. Annoyed, you sighed and rolled over onto your side. Curling up into the couch, you choose the warmth and sweet bliss of sleep over another argument.

“Aren’t you gonna get that?”

“No.” You answered without so much as opening your eyes.

Behind you, you could hear Jackson moving around, presumably to shut off your phone (you didn’t care enough to look).

The ringing grew louder and louder and soon enough you could feel your phone vibrating against your back. “(Y/n), answer the phone.”

“No.” You repeated, throwing the cover over your head. It’s entirely too early for this. Didn’t he have something to do? Wasn’t he busy? You didn’t understand it. Now that you were separated, he suddenly had all the time in the world to call you?

You could hear Jackson sigh behind you. “I swear if I have to hear your ringtone one more time—I’m going to lose my mind. Just answer the phone!”

“If it bothers you so much, why don’t YOU answer it!”

“M-me! Me?” Jackson sputtered. “Do you want me to die? Do you know what that man would do to me if he found out you were staying with me? He would kill me.”

That much was true. Namjoon would be furious to find out you’d been staying with your male best friend, which is exactly why you went to Jackson’s place when you left him.

Was it petty? Yes. Was it worth it? Hell yes.

If his feelings and pride were hurt than good, that made two of you.

“I mean, I could probably take him. But Namjoon when he’s angry is a totally different person. Actually no, he wouldn’t just kill me. It would be murder in the First degree. I’m not answering.”

“Then put it on silent. I don’t care, I’m not talking to him.”

Suddenly, the warmth of your blanket was ripped away from you, forcing you out of your bubble of comfort. “Did you—did you just snatch my cover off? Jackson!”

“(Y/n),” He said, coming closer and taking your hands in his. “You are my best friend and you know I’m only saying this out of a place of love, but this has to stop. You have to go.”

“You’re kicking me out?”

“Look, it’s not like I don’t want you here, I love having you around you know that. It’s just—you’ve been hiding out on my couch for a couple of months now—”

“—Hiding! I’m not hiding!!!”

“And I refuse to harbour a fugitive anymore.”

“I’m not a fugitive…” you grumbled.

Jackson shot you a cross look.“Namjoon is searching high and low for you and you’re avoiding him here, in my apartment.”

You rolled your eyes. “Ok, AND?”

“And! I really don’t think staying here is doing you any good. You are not dealing with what happened. It’s not healthy. He’s calling for a reason, you need to talk to him. You can’t run away from this…”

You bit down on your lip, contemplating everything he said. He wasn’t really wrong. But you were far too exhausted to deal with Namjoon again.

You couldn’t go through another fight.

You weren’t angry. At least, not in the way you were before. The last of your anger had been exerted in a fit of rage when you returned to your home to pick up some things you left behind. This is what you told yourself. A lot of damage had been done. Broken dishes, shattered glass, photos ripped out from picture frames. Tiny vengeful acts that piled up to one huge mess. After all of it you were only partially satisfied. But that time had come and gone, you didn’t think you had any more fight in you.

You were filled with too much bitterness, too much resentment for any of that.

No matter what, you still couldn’t wrap your brain around it. How could he do this to you? You thought that having him speak the truth and actually admit to what he did would give you peace of mind but all it did was give you more questions than answers. Now just the thought of talking to him made bile rise up in your throat.

“I...I don’t even know what I would say to him.”

Jackson narrowed his eyes. “You don’t have to say anything. He’s the one who fucked up, he should be doing all the talking.” His expression softened. “But...I think you should listen. If this is really over, you need closure.”

“And on that note, you’re gonna pick up the next time that phone rings or I will revoke your couch privileges!” He said, standing up with a smile on his face.

“I hate you for this.” You growled at him.

He smiled back at you, “I love you too.” He kissed your cheek, placing your cellphone in your hand, then left for his bedroom.

You looked down at the piece of metal in you hand and sighed. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t talk to him. And yet...there was still this small part of you that wanted to hear his voice. Determined to ignore that emotion you stood up from the couch, headed straight for the kitchen. Stress eating had become a terribly bad habit of yours, but you couldn’t help it. You were the type of person who ate her feelings (and honestly, food does make everything better).

You were shuffling through last night's leftovers, trying to decide if you should heat up a plate of dukbokki or humor yourself with dessert for breakfast when Jackson’s home phone went off.

You waited a bit, figuring he would pick up eventually, but he didn’t. “Jacksonnnn~”, you whined. Nothing. Whatever, you thought. I’ll just let it go to voicemail.

You turned back to the fridge, taking out a pint of ice cream when the beep of the machine sounded and a voice broke through the apartment's silence.

“Hey (Y/n),” At the sound of your name you immediately stopped everything and froze.

“It’s me, Hobi. I know you’re crashing at Jackson’s right now,” Your jaw dropped. How could he know that? You didn’t tell anyone where you were going.

You could hear him giggling on the phone. “Don’t worry I’m not gonna tell. I know you don’t wanna hear anything that I have to say but I’m still gonna say it anyway.”

“Namjoon’s a mess...We've been through a lot together—I’ve never seen him like this before. He made a mistake. A big mistake, and he knows it. But he loves you more than anything. Just hear him out okay? And not for him, but for you...I know you still love him too. Call me back, yeah? If you want, you can ditch him but don’t ditch us! We all miss you over here…..Take care of yourself.”

By the time the message ended you had teary eyes, only half a pint of ice cream left, and a decision to make. Suddenly, you didn’t have much of an appetite.

And then the phone rings. Your phone.

You let it buzz for a bit. Fully determined to ignore his call once again. But you couldn’t stop looking at the phone. Everyone’s words were circling in your head. What if your friends were right? Were you making a mistake? Would you regret this in the future?

The phone just keeps ringing. You wished it would stop so you didn’t have to think about any of this. You closed your eyes and decided to let fate make the choice for you. If he called back, you would use the last bit of fight in you to answer the phone. But if the phone call ended and he didn’t call back...then you’d really be done and let everything be.

Your ringtone died and you held your breath, waiting.

There was a long pause. Nothing.

Maybe he'll give up. Maybe he’s sick of all this too.

Expect—the phone rings again. Namjoon was still fighting for you.

So you pick up your phone, press the answer button, and put the phone to your ear.

“Hello?”

…

♪ Loving you was easy once upon a time. But now my suspicions of you have multiplied. And it's all because you lied. ♪

…

“(Y/n)?”

“Yeah, it’s me.”

“I......I didn’t think you would actually pick up the phone.”

“Neither did I…”

Silence is a funny thing. It’s nothing, and everything at the same time. Somehow the emptiness is still able to fill a void. Nothing is said aloud, but a thousand words are said in the silent space between you and Namjoon. It’s probably only been a few seconds, but it feels like minutes have gone by, or maybe even hours. In those moments of suspended time you decide you don’t want to listen to anything coming from him. Not even this silence.

It’s almost as if he can hear your thoughts. “Don’t hang up!”

His voice is rushed, desperate…..and soothing. Though you’ll never admit that you miss the sound of his voice. Your intellect tells you not to listen. To block him out. Hang up the phone, and move on with your life, you don’t need anything from him...Maybe that was true. But underneath all the hurt, and the deeply buried anger, there was a part of you that wanted something from him.

What that something was you couldn’t tell, but it was enough to make you linger.

When you didn’t hang up, Namjoon spoke. “I called you. I’ve been trying to get a hold of you for months now.”

“I know.”

“Why didn’t you answer?” His voice was strangled, raw. If you didn’t know any better you would think him to be holding back tears. But you couldn't even remember the last time you saw Namjoon cry.

“Maybe I wasn’t ready to talk. Everything isn’t always about you.”

You can hear Namjoon take in a breath on the other side of the line and you imagine him clenching the phone in a fist, the way he always does when he makes an important phone call. The silence stretches on for a beat too long and you’re two seconds away from hanging up again when he speaks. “I don’t wanna fight. I didn’t call to argue with you.”

His words are soft, yet you still find yourself on edge. “Then what do you want, Namjoon?”

“I want to see you.”

“No.” You said, shaking your head. Not gonna happen. You find yourself pacing against the kitchen floor. “I don’t want to see you.”

“Why not?”

His words are a match, igniting your fury and immediately all of the anger you worked so hard to keep suppressed comes bubbling up to the surface. “Why not? Are you serious?!”

“After everything you’ve done you really think I wanna see your sorry face again?” Tears filled your eyes—but you were frustrated—not sad. You were letting him get to you. Namjoon always made you feel too much. You knew you’d get worked up if you talked to him, it’s why you put it off for so long. You worked too hard to try and keep yourself together for him to tear you apart again.

You want this to end. “I have nothing to say to you. Goodbye, Namjoon--”

You take the phone from your ear, ready to press end call, and you would have, if you didn’t hear his faint voice through the speaker say: “If you feel anything for me at all, don't hang up!”

You can’t do it. Hang up. You won't lie to yourself. But you can’t force out a response either. Instead, you lean against the counter, letting the silence take over as you wait for Namjoon to form his next sentence. “I don’t blame you for wanting nothing to do with me. I didn’t call you to make you upset. I just want to talk about us.”

Us. What a foreign concept. You try picturing it in your mind but no matter what, you still can’t form a full image with the two of you together. You’d been apart for so long, and if you really thought about it, the separation began long before you ever left home.

“There hasn’t been an us for a long time. I tried to talk to you before—look what happened. I’m tired Namjoon. I just—I can’t keep doing the same thing over, and over again.”

“It’s not going to be the same.”

You frown. “How can you say that?”

“Because...I’m not the same. I’ve had a lot of time to think things over. I know I fucked up (Y/n), I’m so sorry.” You scoff at his poor attempt at an apology. “I’m supposed to accept that? You think you can just call me up, apologize over the phone, and everything will be okay?”

“No, of course not.” You hear him exhale sharply. “I know it’s going to take more than that. But it’s not gonna get better if we don’t talk about it. We can’t move forward if we don’t talk.”

“What makes you think I want to move forward?”

“You didn’t hang up…”

You hate that he’s right. You want to pretend like it didn’t mean anything but it did. It would be so much easier to just let it go—to let him go. Beyond all reason, you’re still hanging on to this relationship.

“Can we just talk, please. Just...just come home.”

“That’s not my home. It’s not. So much shit has happened in that place…” Your voice cracked and you couldn’t even finish your sentence.

How could you call that place home? Nothing felt right there. All it held were bad memories. Thinking of it only brought back the nights you spent alone, those times you cried yourself to sleep, and the worst fight you ever had with Namjoon. There was no peace there. You couldn't go back to that broken place. You feel a tear roll down your cheek and you quickly wipe it away. This time you knew the tears you cry come from pain, not frustration.

Dammit, I said I wouldn’t cry for him anymore!

“It is your home. It’s our home. You can come back anytime.”

“I don’t want to!”

“Okay, okay.” he said, his voice gentle. It was the same voice he used to use when he used to talk you down from your bad days. You could tell he was trying to calm you down, and it made you angry that it was kind of working. He suggested an alternative: “You don’t have to come home. Let’s just meet up somewhere.”

You don’t want that either. “Namjoon...Do you have any idea what you put me through?...W-why would I want to see you? Why would I want to hear anything you have to say?”

“I..I don’t have an answer to that. But I know you deserve an explanation.”

That made you quiet. These past months all you did was ask yourself why. Why did he do it? What reason did he have for breaking your heart? And there were so many more questions. You knew you wouldn’t get any peace of mind until they’re answered. It was what you wanted. No, needed.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I’ll do it,” You conceded. “Where should we meet up?” You were not going ‘home’. You don’t feel comfortable there. There was a lull on the other line as Namjoon thought of a location.

“Can we meet at our place?”

. . .

You knew exactly what Namjoon meant when he said “our place”. When the two of you first started dating, it was really hard for you to be together. You work as a stylist at a fashion magazine and you met him and the other boys while working at a photoshoot. Namjoon caught your eye with his intuitive gaze and cool persona. He spoke to everyone on set with a natural esteem you found attractive. You were so surprised when you actually got the chance to speak to him and he turned out to be nothing like he appeared.

Gone was the calm, collected image you saw in front of the camera. Namjoon stuttered when he asked for your name, his cheeks bloomed into a rosy red. His nervousness charmed you, and in that moment, somehow you knew you would end up falling for him hard.

It didn’t take very much for you to give him your number. But finding a spot to go on a date with the famous rapper proved a bit more difficult. You never liked the idea of sneaking around, but you understood why. Namjoon wanted to keep things private to protect you, just in case the news of him dating didn’t go well with the public. For a long time it seemed like there was never going to be a place where Namjoon wasn’t recognized.

All the face masks and hats in the world couldn’t hide his fame. You grew tired of being swarmed in coffee shops and restaurants. You just wanted a place where you could talk, maybe hold his hand, and be at peace. Ironically, you found it when you stopped looking. It ended up not even being in a building, but instead an empty park.

Its lush greenery held quiet beauty. Not very many people knew about it, which made it perfect.

Some of the biggest conversations you ever had as a couple were spoken out here, and today was no different.

You walk up to a table nearby, tugging on the hem of your white summer dress. Fidgeting like this makes you feel stupid. You shouldn’t be nervous. If anyone should be nervous for today’s meeting it would be Namjoon. But ever since you agreed to see him, a bad feeling formed in the pit of your stomach. You didn't want to be nervous. You didn’t feel like you’d make it out of this alive if you were. You had to be steel. Strong, unbreakable. You couldn’t allow yourself to get hurt again.

It did not surprise you to see him there early. He was the type of person who liked to be punctual. Or at least he used to be. You had to remind yourself that he wasn’t the same person you married. You didn’t know anything about him. Hell, after the last few months you were still trying to figure out some things about yourself.

Under the shade of the table's umbrella, Namjoon sits, bouncing his leg up and down. The only other time you’d seen him this nervous was during BTS’s first dome concert. His head faces down, staring at the ground with a look so intense he doesn’t even notice you approach him. The daze is broken once you sit down on the bench.

Namjoon jumps up, eyes wide as he looks at your face. “Y-you came?!”

It takes all your strength not to roll your eyes. Obviously...you thought.

He clears his throat, quickly sitting back down. “Thank you.”

For a while you just look at each other. You have to calm your heart as you take in his appearance. He’s just as handsome as you remembered. But something was different. He changed his hair. His silver locks were now a honeyed blonde. The warm glow of his skin had disappeared. And his once bright eyes now hold dark circles underneath them. He looked like shit, but you were still attracted to him, what logic was that?

The air tenses with silence, the way it always seems to do when you’re around him now. This is a mistake. Neither of you know where to begin. You hate it, but you know this conversation will never get anywhere if you don’t initiate it. “You said you wanted to explain. So explain.”

Namjoon looks tense. “I-i don’t even know where to start.”

That irritates you. You came all this way, and he didn’t even plan what he was going to say?

“What about the beginning?”

Namjoon sighed. He licked his lips, folded his hands, and then he did it. He told you everything. He told you about his anxiety, and the loneliness he felt. The desire to make it all fade away even for just a few moments. How he almost came clean the first time around. And the guilt that festered inside him for keeping the secret for so long.

“I wanted to tell you. But I knew I couldn’t tell you I cheated and keep you I—” Namjoon stopped. He looked away from you, biting down hard on his bottom lip before returning his gaze to yours.

“I was selfish. And I was wrong. There is no excuse for what I did. I’m so sorry, (Y/n).”

Your lips parted in shock. Going into this situation, you expected things to go a whole lot different. You expected him to try and defend himself, or at least blame you for the reason he cheated…but that wasn’t happening. Namjoon wasn’t trying to justify what he did, but instead taking full responsibility for his actions. Those words weren’t coming from the same man you walked away from. That man was filled with too much pride to even acknowledge his own actions—let alone apologize for them.

His actions surprised you. It was almost enough to make you drop your guard. Almost.

“I know you have questions. I’ll answer anything you ask me honestly, I swear.”

You paused. This is the moment you've been waiting for, and now that it was finally here you didn't know what to say. There were so many questions you wanted to ask. But you want to be sure you'll ask the right questions. And that you're prepared to hear the answers. Once you got the information you were dying to hear, you couldn't give it back. You’d have to live with it.

Finally, you spoke. “How’d you do it? How’d you keep this a secret for so long?”

“I kept a second phone hidden.”

The answer came with some relief. You knew you weren’t crazy, that there was some secret method to his deceit. The idea had come once or twice to go through his phone, but you knew Namjoon would never be that messy. “Did anyone else know?”

He nodded once, and a wave of aggravation rippled through you. “Some of the members knew.”

“Are you serious?” You laugh, but the sound felt hollow coming from your lips. “They must think I’m so stupid….”

“You know they don’t think that, they love you.”

You grimaced. Yeah, right. “Not enough to let me know the truth.”

Briefly you wondered which members knew and what kept them from coming to you, but you tried to push those thoughts away. You came here with questions for Namjoon. Nothing else mattered.

“Was it emotional?” You asked. “Did you love her?”

He shook his head vigorously. “No. No, it was just physical. They didn't mean anything to me.”

All the blood in your body went cold. “They?”

Namjoon opens his mouth. Then closed it again. “Shit.” He hoped to leave that part out of this meeting. A part of him knew it wouldn't be fair to you but would the truth really be any better?

“.....There was more than one girl?”

He ran a hand down his face then nodded, avoiding eye contact. “Yes.”

Through gritted teeth you ask, “How many?”

You wait for an answer but this time Namjoon keeps quiet. “You said you'd answer anything.”

“I know—”

“So that was a lie?”

“No.”

You crossed your arms over your chest. “Then why won't you tell me?”

Namjoon tensed, jaw clenching. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

You narrowed your gaze on him. “Well it’s too fucking late for that don’t you think? ‘Honestly’, huh? You’re so full of shit Namjoon. Being honest means telling the whole truth. All of it!”

“How many?” You press. Part of you is afraid of the answer but you still need to know.

You wait, staring him down but Namjoon looked away. He can’t say it looking you in the eye, instead he buries his face in his hands then mutters out the word three.

“Three?” You repeat.

You lean back from him, gripping the edge of the table. It felt like the world was spinning around you. Wow. Three girls. Three different girls.

Sensing your distress Namjoon quickly added. “They're just girls. They don’t matter.”

You shook your head, refusing to accept that for an answer. “Of course they matter. You made a choice to go to them, instead of me. I have to know why. What did they have that I didn’t?”

“Everything.”

Ouch, okay. You close your eyes as the pain from that statement washes all over you. The pain you feel isn’t new, but familiar. Like reopening an old wound. But Namjoon isn’t finished. Before you can even process his words he speaks again. “They were selfish, demanding, and manipulative...the complete opposite of you.”

You feel your brows pull together. “Is that supposed to make me feel better? The fact that all the women you slept with are somehow lesser than me?”

Namjoon looks confused and hurt. “(Y/n), I don't know what you want from me. I can’t change the past, all I can say is I’m sorry.”

For so long all you wanted was for him to apologize. Really apologize. No excuses, no bullshit. But now that you finally heard it, sorry just didn’t feel like enough. Instead his words make you feel empty inside. Sorry, isn’t enough to stay. You want to leave now.

Clearing your throat, you got ready to go. “I don’t know what to say to that and I don’t have anymore question so—”

“Can I ask you a question?”

You huffed out a sigh. “Fine.”

“Why did you leave? You said you'd never leave me.”

You feel yourself flush with frustration. “And you said you'd never cheat on me. Promises mean nothing. Words, mean nothing. The only thing that matters is how you act.”

“Besides,” You said, looking away from him to the beautiful summer landscape. “You didn't try to stop me. It's like you didn't even care.”

“Of course I cared. I made a mistake—”

Standing up, you slam your hands down on the table. “It was not. A mistake! Oh my god! How can you still not get it? Cheating is a choice! You made a choice! You think I didn’t get lonely all those nights I spent by myself? You think you’re the only man who’s ever approached me???”

“Of course not—”

“No. Of course not! Because I’m a catch, Namjoon.” Not caring how loud you get, you raise your voice. “I am kind, I am smart, I am ambitious, I am beautiful. You had to be out of your fucking mind to cheat on me!” You said, pressing your index finger against your temple.

You’re crying now, hot tears streaming down your face.“Why can’t you see that? Everyone else can.”

It’s the only question that goes unanswered. Namjoon stares at you, eyes glistening, but he doesn’t say a word.

“I can’t do this,” You wiped at your wet face frantically, standing up to leave.

(Y/n), please.” Namjoon moved to stop you but you ripped out of his grasp.

“I have to go.” You say reaching for your bag, ready to walk away from him, from your marriage, and all the hurt he just laid at your feet.

Love Drought

♪ Nine times out of ten, I'm in my feelings. But ten times out of nine, I'm only human. Tell me, what did I do wrong? Feel like that question has been posed. I'm movin' on.

. . .

You haven't seen Namjoon but that doesn’t stop you from thinking about him.

You think about him almost every single day. What was he doing? How was he moving on without you? Was he moving on at all, or was he just sitting around somewhere...waiting for you to come back?

All these questions only fueled your anxiety and your determination to stay as far away as possible from Namjoon. If you didn’t see him, if you went away...Then those questions would go away too, right? You were going for the whole ‘out of sight out of mind thing’. But it wasn’t working. Because even though you said you were done—Namjoon still had pieces of you. Literally. Your things still remained untouched at the house.

You meant it when you said you didn’t want to go back home. But you needed to come get your belongings. It takes all of your strength to make the drive over without stopping to throw up, or cry. Stepping inside the place where your marriage died was the last thing you wanted to do on your day off. You put off the inevitable for months but it’s time now, you’re moving on, and you’re moving out.

So why was it so hard for you to move past the front door?

You stood there, frozen at the threshold. Heart aching at the thought of what you’re about to do. Fuck (Y/n), you cursed at yourself.You’re a grown ass woman, you can do this. Get in there. It was dead quiet in the house, as you hoped. You’re too much of a coward to call Namjoon and let him know you’re coming to take the last of your things. Couldn’t even text him. No message you typed out felt right. Anything you had to say you already told him. At this point, you both know your marriage is at its end. All you can do is pray that he won’t be there the same time you are. It’s why you chose to come in the evening. Namjoon wouldn’t be home until very late at night because of his schedule. It would give you enough time to get most of your things packed up.

Bawling your hands into fists you gripped your door key tightly, slid it in the keyhole, and unlocked the door. You take two steps inside, close the door behind you, and it feels as though you’ve stepped through time. It’s like nothing’s changed. You don’t quite know what you were expecting. You didn’t have any expectations coming over, but now looking at the space before you, you decided this isn’t it.

The house isn’t spotless, but it’s tidy, neat. In stark contrast from the last time you were here, and the fit you threw. Somehow you expected the house to look exactly in that state: broken. But nothing’s really changed. Soon your feet take on movement of their own, walking you towards the bedroom. Being back in that room is strange. It's almost as if you never left him at all. The sunset pools through the window, drowning the bed in light that looks like honey. The space has the essence of your home. The only difference you feel now is the emptiness. You spent many nights home without Namjoon but it never felt like this.

This time you’re really all by yourself. You don’t live in the same house anymore, but you're not completely alone living off your bestfriends couch. It’s been years since you’ve remembered what it feels like to be without a partner. You wondered...This emptiness...Is this what it would feel like to live without Namjoon?

You swallow down a sob, trying not to drown in your loneliness and turn and walk into the closet. Remember why you're here. Get your things, you just have to make it through these next few minutes. You reminded yourself that the hard part, the confrontation (and the leaving) was already over. All you have to do now is pack.

Strange enough your heart still aches, though not in the way it did before. This is not the ache of betrayal. You truly believed that pain would never subside but it did. Not by time but by choice. You had to choose to let go of the anger and the hurt, choose to free yourself from resentment. No. This ache was something else entirely. But you couldn’t put a name to it.

You step inside your closet, eyes studying your hung up clothes and the suitcases hidden underneath them. Not wanting to spend any more time than needed here, you got on your knees and started pulling out suitcases, folding up clothes, and putting them away. It all went much quicker than you’d expected (you got most of your clothes out during the beginning of your separation). You were picking off hangers at the end of the closet when you came across a garment bag. The garment bag.

Right away you knew you shouldn’t. Only a masochist would unzip the garment bag to their wedding dress when they’re currently living apart from their husband. And yet, you still did it. Tentatively your fingers reached out to grab hold of the bag. You pulled it into your lap and slowly undid the zipper. Then you saw your wedding dress, and you melted. As your eyes traced over the lace detail the memories of that day flickered through your mind.

It wasn’t at all what you expected. When you were younger, you always dreamed of a big wedding, everything you've ever heard about in fairytales. You wanted it to happen early in the morning, in a beautiful church with stained glass windows, surrounded by all your friends and family. You expected there would be flowers everywhere, and something else, something special. The romantic in you hoped for doves or maybe butterflies. And your dress? Only the most regal ball gown would do as you walked down the aisle to the man of your dreams.

Of course, fantasies rarely become reality. The issue of privacy is important when marrying a celebrity. At the time, just getting married seemed impossible, let alone doing it big. With the group's growing fame and Namjoon’s busy schedule, how could you find the time to get married? Or find a venue where fans or media couldn’t find you? You’d have to plan every second, every detail. Nothing could be left up to chance. Both of you were so in love but also, so very stressed with the situation before you until Namjoon made a second proposal.

“Why don’t we just elope?” he asked.

It was late at night. You lay in the comfort of his arms, head resting on his chest and mere seconds away from blissful sleep, so it took you a full minute to process that sentence. You lifted your head to look into his eyes. “What?”

Namjoon smiled down at you, thumb rubbing slow circles against your back. “Let’s just do it. Get married, I mean. Who says we have to wait or plan? I love you. I wanna marry you now.”

You sat up in bed, propped yourself up on your arm, and searched his face. “Are you serious?”

You watched amused as he narrowed his sharp eyes at you in a mock glare. “Why would I joke about this? Of course I’m serious! Let’s do it.”

You looked at him hard for a minute, but when Namjoon didn’t flinch you knew he was for real. Then of course the panic kicked in. “Baby, what? Let’s do it? It’s not like we can just walk into a church and say ‘I do’ !”

“Technically, we can.”

You shook your head, “No. What about all the plans we’ve made? I already booked the venue, and our caterer—”

Namjoon rolled over onto his side, facing you. “So we’ll cancel. The date’s still months away, that's more than enough time to give notice that we’ve changed our minds.”

You laughed,, but your shaky breath came out like a scoff. “Do you know how hard it was for me to get those reservations?! That cathedral is wedding heaven! It is stained glass perfection. The wait time is usually up to a year. A YEAR. And our cake, it’s being made by Giovanni Bianchi—world renowned pastry chef—Giovanni Bianchi. It’s a seven-tiered baked dream. And you want me to cancel?”

To your disbelief Namjoon simply shrugged. “Do we really need all that?”

He reached out, taking your hands in his. He looked down, stroking them with his thumbs in an effort to soothe you. “Grand cathedral or not, as long as we’re together, I’m already in heaven. Our wedding will be perfect no matter where we are because we have each other. And the cake? Well, why would I need a dream cake, when I can have my dream girl?” He said, winking at you.

Your heart swelled at sweet words. As much as you wanted to roll your eyes you couldn’t help but smile. God, he was so cheesy. But isn’t that why you loved him? Still...you felt anxious. He might have melted your heart, but you weren’t fully convinced.

“Yeah okay, very smooth. What about our families? They’ve been looking forward to this so much. Our mothers will murder us!” You made a face, suddenly remembering your wedding party. “Oh the boys…..Jin will be so disappointed if he doesn’t get to be your best man” (you distinctly recalled him rejoicing at the news knowing he’d be “the most handsome” best man ever).

Namjoon brought your fingers to his lips and kissed the tips in between explanations. “It’s not about them”. Kiss. “Jin will get over it”. Kiss. “Our families will forgive us”. Kiss. “We’re not getting married for anyone else but us, we can do it however we want.”

You nodded your head in agreement, though you were still unsure. You knew all these things. Of course your marriage would be just for the two of you. You had no interest in simply performing the act for others approval. You loved Namjoon, you loved your relationship together, and you wanted to do what felt right for the both of you. Still, you couldn’t help but worry about the public’s opinion.

“What about your fans?” you asked. “What if pictures get out?” The whole point of all this planning was for privacy. The world knew BTS was dating, many fans suspected they had secret girlfriends, but a wife? How would they react to that? You didn’t want to hurt anyone, least of all Namjoon and his image. You know how hard he and the rest of Bangtan worked to be respected in the music industry. What would happen if the world found out their leader was dating a nobody like you?

Namjoon looked you straight in the eyes, and spoke in a calm voice. “I don’t care. I’m not ashamed of loving you. Let the whole world see that I’m marrying the kindest, loveliest, soul I’ve ever known. I don’t care what they think, or what they say. I just want you. All I want is to be your husband, and for you to be my wife. Nothing else matters.”

You felt another wave of love pass over your heart. His sincerity stunned you. You glanced at him with glistening eyes. “Namjoon…Are you sure?”

“Absolutely.”

He grinned at you, letting go of your hand to reach up and cup your cheek. “Are you done yet?” He teased. “Despite all your protests, I haven’t heard you say no…?”

You took a second to think through your conversation. Namjoon was right. You never said no, because as crazy as it was, you agreed with your fiancé wholeheartedly. You wanted this, you wanted him just as much as he wanted you, and you wanted to get married as quickly as possible. With a new resolve you shifted in the bed straddling him, then wrapped your arms around his neck. “Okay,” you said.

Namjoon raised both eyebrows up. “Okay!? Just like that? Anything else I need to assure you of? We have our marriage license. I have a tux. You already have your dress. I know you’re concerned but we have everything we need.”

You nodded. This time you were sure. “Let’s do it.”

Namjoon hesitated, then his face broke into a smile that was so bright it gave life to one of your own. In that moment you realized what you thought to be nerves earlier was really just excitement. You brought your hand to his shoulders, squeezing tight. “We’re getting married,” you whispered, voice full of awe.

“We’re getting married!” Namjoon echoed.

Before you knew it, you were walking down the aisle. You let him plan it all. You got married at night, in a small church, without stained glass windows. There was no big guest list, but neither of you could stand the thought of going through the ceremony completely by yourselves, so you allowed for your immediate family to be there (that included Yoongi, Hoseok, Jin, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jeongguk). Flowers did not adorn every pew, but the space was illuminated by soft and warm candlelight. No butterflies or doves. It wasn’t like what you imagined in your head. Life rarely coincides with those kinds of plans. But Namjoon was right. Because you had each other, it was perfect.

In the end, the only part of your wedding that lived up to the fairytale was your dress. It was everything you wanted in a gown. All white with a sweetheart neckline, crystal embroidery and layers upon layers of tulle. The dress felt a bit heavy, but you can still remember the look on his face when he lifted your veil. In one glance, he made all that weight disappear. You felt lighter than air. “You look like an angel.” He whispered, voice sweet and low, so only you could hear. In that moment all you could feel was love.

So how did you end up here? Clutching your wedding dress on the closet floor, desperately wiping away tears. God, what a mess you are. You pushed out a breath and started shoving the white, fluffy fabric back into the garment dress. It was a mistake taking this out. You couldn’t get it back in again. Your fingers slip as you try to grip the zipper, and you can’t tell if it’s because of your sweaty palms or your wet tears, but it won’t budge. Why won’t it zip? You pull up hard, snagging the dress in its teeth.

Shit. Frustration flushes through you as you snatch the zipper back down only to hear the distinct sound of fabric tearing in the process.

You shut your eyes tight, shoulders slumping with defeat. When you opened your eyes again all you could see was the rip in the dress, threads straining and unraveling all at once. It looked as torn up as you feel inside. Part of you is falling apart at the idea of leaving Namjoon, pressured to leave all of this pain behind and let go of the relationship. Call it mind over matter. It didn’t make sense to stay with a man you had broken your heart and your trust. All logic told you to divorce him and never look back. You know this. And yet? There is a part of you aching to repair what’s been broken, pull out the sorrow from this home, and heal all the hurt.

You were so busy wrapped in your thoughts that you hadn’t heard the door unlock, or footsteps tread into the bedroom. From the corner of your eye you saw a glimpse of blond hair, wide brown shoulders. It was Namjoon. You couldn’t help the startled gasp that fell from your lips.

“(Y/n)”, he breathed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.” Namjoon kept his distance. He didn’t look at you and didn’t cross the threshold of the closet door, generously leaving space between you. Instead, his eyes were glued to the floor. “I saw your car out front, but I didn’t think it’d actually be you here.” He reached up a hand, rubbing the back of his neck. “I didn’t think I’d ever see you again. I don’t mean to be rude. I’m just...confused.” Namjoon glanced up at you from underneath his eyelashes then slowly, his smokey eyes rose to meet yours. “Why are you here?”

“. . .” You faltered. Once Namjoon laid his eyes on you, you softened, even after all this time he had that effect on you. You were still consumed in thoughts about your marriage...feeling that again, you didn’t know what to think. You almost preferred it when you felt anger or pain at the sight of him. Instead you felt something else. You looked down at your lap, fingering the dress. Was it longing? You started again, making eye contact. “I came back to get the rest of my things.”

A look passed across Namjoon’s face but before you could identify it, it was gone. Namjoon nodded, looking away from your face. His gaze shifted to your hands. “Is...is that—”

“—My wedding dress? Yes.” You tried to think of an excuse, some reason for you having it out but nothing came to mind. You shrugged, settling for the truth. “I just wanted to look at it I guess.” Both of you ignored your tear stained face.

Namjoon bit his lip, the silence stretching between you until he said, “I’ll leave you to it,” and abruptly walked away. Finally alone you breathed out a sigh.

You felt a tinge of disappointment. And you were angry with yourself for it. You don’t know what you were hoping for, or what you wanted to get out of that conversation. What’d you expect? Did you really think after everything that he’d lower himself one last time and beg for you to come back? Again? The man you married you would have, but the man who cheated on you? No, he had too much pride. This wasn’t a romance movie where the couple fights and breaks up but somehow everything magically fixes itself and they get back together. It was really over.

The finality of it all stunned you. You sat there, numbing yourself to the pain for a minute. Then you striantened out your wedding dress, and zipped up the garment bag. This time it went up without a hitch. You were just getting up off your knees when Namjoon whipped back into the room, surprising you.

“I know you could care less about anything I have to say right now,” he began, raising a cautious hand. “You probably hate me, and I understand that. I hate myself for what I’ve done to you.” He looked up in thought then pressed his hands into his eyes. When his hands fell away you braced yourself for what came next. “I’m asking you for a second chance. I’m asking you for a second chance because I love you more than anything. You are the love of my life, and I’m sorry I forgot that. I know you don’t owe me anything, least of all your forgiveness.”

He stopped, voice thickening as he gulped down tears. “But I’m asking for it.”

“I couldn’t live with myself knowing I didn’t do everything to get you back.”

Tears filled your eyes. “Are you saying that, because you love me? Or are you saying that because you want me back?”

His gaze never wavered. “Both. I want you back, because I love you. Knowing you and loving you has been the biggest blessing in my life. I don’t regret it. I'd do it all over again, just to have you in my life. Even if it meant losing you. ”

All at once it hit you. That feeling, the one you struggled to identify when you held your wedding dress in your arms. It wasn’t longing. It was love. You were still in love with Namjoon.

And so you did the unthinkable. You kissed him.

Sandcastles

♪ We built sandcastles that washed away. I made you cry when I walked away, oh. And although I promised that I couldn't stay, baby. Every promise doesn't work out that way.

. . .

It only takes seconds for you to cross the space between and press your lips to his. For a moment, Namjoon doesn’t move—doesn’t even breathe. Then his arms wrapped around you, brought you flush against him and you melted in his embrace as he kissed you, his lips softer than ever. Deep down, you know you shouldn’t. It would be too painful to become wrapped up in Namjon again only to tear yourself away from him. But your body has a will of its own. When his tongue swept across your bottom lip, you parted for him like the red sea and every emotion you’d ever felt for him came flooding back.

Every kiss you’ve ever had, every whisper of “I love you,” all of it ignited in your mind the second Namjoon kissed you back in a moment so intense you felt your body tremble at his touch. His lips moved gently over yours while his hands came up to cup your cheeks, and before you know it, you find yourself in the middle of the most sensual kiss you’ve had in your life. Namjoon kissed you like he was hungry, tongue rolling into your mouth. You couldn’t help but moan, arching into his embrace.

It was shameful how your body responded back to him. You could feel your heart rate increase, the heat rushing to your cheeks. You couldn’t remember the last time you wanted him like this. Your thoughts traveled back to the words that sparked your desire: “I want you back, because I love you. Knowing you and loving you has been the biggest blessing in my life. I don’t regret it. I'd do it all over again, even if it meant losing you.”

All this time you’d been fighting against your love for Namjoon, convinced any feelings he had for you were long gone. But everything he said proved otherwise.

It was confusing to you. You spent so much time thinking that Namjoon didn’t want you anymore, you’d even come to accept it but now? You didn’t know what to think. Your mind was screaming for you to pull away, stop before it went any further. That everything you were doing right now was wrong. Except, it didn’t feel wrong. It almost felt...good. Right.

The truth is you feel exactly the same. Despite everything you’d been through, you still loved Namjoon. He was the love of your life and you wished with everything in you that you could turn back the clock and start over. If what he said was true—if there was even a possibility of Namjoon still loving you, you needed to feel that.

Namjoon’s touch made you desperate. You found your hands tracing the planes of his body, running down his muscular arms before coming back up as you linked your arms around his neck. He kissed you deeper, groaning low in his throat, and the sound was enough to drive you wild. Even this close, you couldn’t get enough of him. All you could feel was the compulsive need for more. More of his touch. More of his kisses. More, more, more.

You could feel Namjoon’s body backing you up to the bed. Your knees hit the mattress and you allowed yourself to fall back against the soft sheets. But Namjoon didn’t fall with you. You opened your eyes, instantly giving way to panic. His pause alarmed you. Your anxiety reared its ugly head, speaking cruelty into your mind. How could you be so foolish? What were you thinking, kissing Namjoon? He didn’t actually want you. He was leading you on, playing with your feelings. That’s why he stopped.

You pulled yourself up, leaning your weight back on your elbows to look into his eyes. You expected to see cold rejection on his handsome face, but what you saw in his gaze wasn’t at all what you imagined. Instead, when you looked into his eyes, all you could see was raw, unfiltered desire. And strangely enough, uncertainty.

Namjoon had a million thoughts racing through his mind, all of them questions.

How did he end up here, with you spread across his bed when only minutes before you seemed worlds apart? The situation didn’t feel real, more like a fantasy, like he dreamed you up. But if this dream was real—if this dream was really coming true—should he let it?

Of course he wanted you. If you kissed him like this a couple of months ago, Namjoon wouldn’t hesitate to take you; he’d have his way with you until you screamed his name. But tonight, the last thing Namjoon wanted. He’d spent months craving your touch; the feel of your lips against his, how the heat of your body felt flush against his. He caused you enough pain acting on his lust. He didn’t want to hurt you further by taking advantage of the situation.

Both of you got caught in an emotional whirlwind but this kiss was a mistake, wasn’t it? He looked down at you, waiting for you to push him away but you didn’t make a move. Instead, you stared at him, desire burning in your eyes. God, that look alone was enough to arouse him. Still, he didn’t make any move to kiss you.

You took a moment to look at Namjoon, really look at him. Trying to uncover the emotion swirling behind his dark eyes. The longer you stared, the more you felt like your heart was going to burst from your chest. You could see his uncertainty but the feeling wasn’t mutual.

Was it insane to sleep with your soon to be ex-husband? Yes. Did it make you want it any less?

Not even in the slightest.

I must be losing my mind. You couldn’t explain it yourself, but kissing Namjoon opened up something in you. Feelings you didn’t know you still had swept all over you. Heat washed over your body. You could feel your skin flush, passion stirring in your blood.

“Are you sure?” he asked, voice taut with apprehension.

Your body was practically screaming yes. But Namjoon’s hesitation made you pause.

Reading the confusion in your eyes, he quickly backtracked. “I’m not saying I don’t want to—believe me I do—I just don’t want you to do something tonight that you’ll regret in the morning.”

Your mind wasn’t there. That moment seemed so far off from the ever-present now and the rapid beating of your heart and the warmth of Namjoon’s body. You knew you had to make a choice. Yes or no. There was a small voice in the back of your head cautioning you against this. But tonight you were following your heart. Consequences be damned.

You looked up at him and nodded. “I want this.”

Namjoon leaned forward to kiss you, and you shivered at the feel of his lips against yours. This time, there was no hesitation. You couldn’t remember the last time Namjoon kissed you like this. Slowly, tenderly, like this kiss mattered. Like you mattered. Any inhibition you had melted away as you leaned into his touch. You felt yourself lower back down onto the bed. Namjoon’s hands passed over your body, slimming down your waist, before coming to rest on your thighs. You let them linger there, savoring the feeling of his hands on your body.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him closer. You were so into the kiss, the feel of him you didn’t notice his hands pry off your clothes until you were left in only your underwear.

He stopped then, pulled away from your lips to look at you. Then the only thing you could feel on your body were his eyes drinking you in. The eye contact alone had you squeezing your thighs together. You watched the heat build in his dark gaze until his eyes lingered just a little too long, until your skin tingled all over from the intensity.

Then he was all over you, leaving open-mouthed kisses down your throat. Hands cupping your breasts. The feel of him against your thigh. It was an assault to your senses, but instead of overwhelming you, it only made you crave him even more. You arched your back as Namjoon kissed your collarbone, slowly making his way down the valley of your breasts. You moaned at the sensation of his tongue moving down your body, closer and closer to where you needed him most.

“Namjoon,” You breathed, body humming with pleasure. He looked up from between your thighs, dark eyes connecting with yours for a split second. You watched as he hooked his fingers into your underwear and dragged them down your legs. Then he gave his complete attention to your body, licking a long strip straight down your center that had you moaning his name again.

Namjoon gripped your thighs firmly in his hands, pulling you closer towards him. He wanted you to know that this meant more to him than just sex, that he loved you, and that he was more than willing to show you just how much. He takes his time tasting you. Each lick languid and loving. He didn’t want to tease you, all he wanted to do was to please you. To touch you and erase the pain he caused--even if only for a second. Namjoon swirled his tongue across your clit. Once, twice, a third time, drawing sweet moans and gasps from your lips.

You couldn’t keep yourself quiet. It’d been so long since anyone touched you. Throughout everything, you still remained faithful to Namjoon. And even if you’d been with another, no one could ever make you feel like this. Have your toes curling, back arching. It was almost embarrassing how easily you melted under his touch. Some part of you still wondered how you could give in so easy. Shouldn’t you be feeling some resistance? All you felt was longing.

You found yourself rocking your hips against him, and crying out as his tongue delved deeper.

You wanted to bring your hands up to your face to muffle the sounds but before you could, Namjoon stopped you.

“Don’t,” he said. He took hold of your hands and threading his fingers through yours. All the while his tongue was still swirling against you, making lewd sounds that had you feeling hot.

You could feel your body heating up, the rise and fall of your chest coming faster and faster. When you felt him slide tongue inside you, pressing up against your sweet spot—it was enough to push you over the edge. You came, squeezing Namjoon’s hands tight.

Namjoon lapped up your juices, enjoying the taste of your slick on his tongue. Even then he didn’t stop, coaxing a second orgasm out of you with soft licks against your center.

“Joon,” you whimpered, body humming with oversensitivity. “Too much.”

Only then did he pull away, moving to place a tender kiss on the inside of your thigh. He sat up, and you rose on your elbows ready and willing to return the favor, but Namjoon gently pushed you back down on the bed, shaking his head.

“I just wanna be inside you right now,” he rasped.

God, you wanted that too. They way Namjoon ate you out had your body begging for more. You weren't going to argue with him.

Namjoon sat up and placed a hand around your neck, guiding you back to his lips. It started out slow. Soft, sweet kisses against your lips. It wasn’t until he slipped his tongue inside your mouth that he found himself suddenly desperate for you. Even more surprising was your reaction to him. You kissed him back with just as much fever, completely captivated.

The kiss seemed to go on forever. When you finally pulled away, you looked at each other, panting, the air thickening between you two. Namjoon’s dark eyes stared down at you with an intensity that pierced your soul. You knew he felt it too. This energy...There was still love between you. But you’d already made your decision. You wanted this moment, this passion but you couldn’t trust him with your heart and be sure he wouldn’t break it. I can’t fall for him again. I can’t. You wanted him badly but wanting him, and trusting him were two different things.

“Namjoon,” you started. Then stopped, trying to find the right words to explain. “This isn’t—I can’t—”

“—Stay? I know.” Namjoon knew what he was getting into the second you kissed him. He knew this was goodbye, and that it would hurt like hell come morning. He didn’t care. If only he could change the past, he’d take it all back.

But he couldn’t. The damage was already done. This was the last time he’d ever hold you in his arms again. If he could have you, even for this short time, he’d take what he could get. He wasn’t going to fuck it up trying to make this into something it wasn’t. He loved you too much to be selfish at this moment. If this were the last time, he would make it well worth your while.

“I just need tonight.”

Namjoon pulled you tighter against him, molding you against his body. Before making any sudden movement, he pulled back a little to look in your eyes, to make sure this was still what you wanted.

You cupped his cheek and kissed his lips, reassuring him. Then he aligned his cock against your entrance and pushed inside you with one smooth move. You tensed, freezing in his arms. The feeling of your walls clenched around him made staying still absolute torture. But Namjoon wouldn’t dare move.

You close your eyes and breathe out a shaky breath, familiarizing yourself with the burn of the stretch. He’s so thick it takes a minute for your body to adjust to the size. Though the sensation of Namjoon nuzzling into your neck helps turn the pain into pleasure. You hooked your leg around his waist nudging him forward.

The small act made both of you moan in unison. “Namjoon...please,” you breathed.

He moved, starting out with a pace that had your insides feeling molten. His hands gripped at your hips as he pulled out almost all the way, then slowly slid himself deep inside you. You were so wet, so tight he couldn’t help but groan. The feel of you taking all of him, giving him this pleasure and the look in your eyes...Namjoon was sure he’d never love another the same way.

This wasn’t just sex. Namjoon knew the difference now. What it really meant to be intimate with a partner. To share his body with someone not for a distraction or stroke his ego but for love. To draw closer with one another. This was it for him. You, it was always you. There would never be another. He started to rock into you, deep and slow, desperate to make you feel that.

You closed your eyes, losing yourself to the sensation. Needing more, you raised your hips to meet his thrusts and Namjoon took the hint, snapping his hips to meet yours faster. You cried out as he filled you again and again and again. Right now, you don't have to worry about future decisions. You didn’t have to think about all the conflicting feelings you had for this man.

Not that you could think about that anyways. Your senses were all wrapped up in how good Namjoon was making you feel. His pace was brutal just how you liked it, but his touch was nothing but kind. His hands trailed up to the small of your back keeping you close. Namjoon cupped your face as he kissed you; he only pulled away to rest his forehead against yours and looked into your eyes. You’d slept with Namjoon before, but something about this time was different. If you didn’t know any better—you’d think he was making love to you. He was so strong, yet so loving. You wished he could be this way with you always.

You wanted to stay here, savor this moment. But Namjoon was grinding his hips against yours in a way that had you breathless. You were so close. “Namjoon, I—”

“Come for me,” he said.

Growling, he thrust harder against you and reached down between your bodies to rub your clit, driving you towards your orgasm. Your pleasure built inside you, sweeping over your body like a wave until it crashed and washed over you, sending tremors down your body.

Feeling you come apart in his arms, Namjoon slowed his thrusts. You clenched around him till pleasure flooded his senses and he came too, burying his face in your neck and moaning out your name.

The only sound heard throughout the room was panting as the two of you came down from your highs. Namjoon brushed your hair away from your face and ran his thumb across your cheek.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice full of concern. He rolled off you and onto his side so as not to crush you but remained close, his skin flush against yours.

“Mhmm…” you hummed. You stared at the ceiling as your heart rate slowed back down. You were expecting to feel something. Regret...maybe relief?

You don’t know what you were hoping for. Maybe subconsciously you thought sleeping with Namjoon would help you come to some kind of resolution. A grand epiphany that would tell you what to do with your situation. But really you didn’t feel any different than you did before.

“What are you thinking about?”

You shake your head as if to shake all those thoughts out of your head. “Nothing.”

Namjoon didn’t press you, but the silent tension in the air gave you the impression that he wanted to ask for more.

You’ve never felt so divided. The ego in you wanted to walk away from it all. Say goodbye and cut your losses, no matter the cost. You made peace with leaving because you were so sure that Namjoon didn’t want you. You knew you couldn’t be with a man who had no love for you. But now, knowing that there was still love here. That he still cared, that you still cared. It changed things. You wanted it to work. But you weren’t sure if you could love him the same; there was always the issue of trust. How could you ever trust him again?

“I’m sorry,” said Namjoon. “I thought this was what you wanted.”

You turned to face him then, lying on your side. “It was what it wanted and now…” You trailed off, lost to your thoughts again. You had to think about it. Dig deep and really question what it was you were searching for.

“Now what? What do you need?” His expression was torn but honest.

So you asked for what you really wanted out of him. You asked for the truth.

“I need you to tell me everything.”

. . .

And he does. That night, as you bathe together, he finally tells you the truth. The whole truth.

When the sweat on your skin dried and became sticky, Namjoon ran a bath. You both got inside the clawfoot tub and sat on opposite sides, bodies intermingling as you faced each other. It was thick with quiet as the bath filled up with heated water.

At first, Namjoon hesitated. You could tell he wanted to spare your feelings. So he gave you the truths in little bits. Pieces of information you could swallow, like the names of his past lovers, and when each act happened. Then slowly, bigger chunks that had you holding your breath as you processed the facts of his betrayal. He told you about it all. About the weakness, the desperation, and the loneliness he felt on tour. The need to be touched and seen–really seen–by someone. Even if that someone wasn’t you. How one bad decision turned into two, turned into three. And the guilt. The guilt that accompanied the deception that rose and rose like high flames, eating him up inside.

By the time Namjoon’s done speaking, the water’s gone lukewarm, and your fingers were pruned, yet neither of you gets out of the bath. You let Namjoon bring you to close, till your back's up against his chest. He lathers his hands, and you let his calloused palms wash the pain away. Till the only thing you feel is his light touch. You repeat this action to him, stroking his skin with absolute ease. Then, and only then do you step out of the water. Namjoon drapes a fluffy white towel over your shoulder and wraps it around you.

He looks you in the eyes, and tells you that you're the only woman he’s ever loved. The only woman he would ever love. And you believe him.

. . .

That night, you lay down beside him exhausted. Not the kind of exhaustion that comes from lack of sleep or a long day at work. Not the weariness that leads to nights of deep slumber–no–this is the weariness that puts stress on your heart. The kind that leaves you feeling drained. Empty. Beside you, Namjoon sleeps, but you’re wide awake.

Every nerve in your body is begging for rest. But it’s your heart keeping you up tonight.

Heart over mind, mind over matter. You're split in both directions. Wanting to stay, and wanting to go. You told yourself that you were leaving. Walking away from it all.

But something felt wrong.

Everything was already moving in one way, but your heart was starting to face another. You still hadn’t made up your mind.

You lay in bed with your eyes closed and remembered the first time you left. Before you knew the truth, before you knew anything really, except for the fact that you didn’t want to live in a lie. You packed your bag and drove to Jackson’s, but you couldn’t make it through the night without breaking down and calling your mom. You spilled your heart to her, and she heard you, even through all the tears. You called to get everything off your chest, but you were also searching for answers. You were desperate for her to give you some kind of sign of what you were supposed to do or an out, but she didn’t.

“Do you remember when you were little, and you used to make sandcastles at the beach?” she asked. “You used to love playing in the sand. Barely even went in the water. You spent all day just creating something, building your own world.”

It caught you off guard. You were so shocked that for the first time in hours you stopped crying.

The memory was hazy in your mind, but you could still picture those summer days filled with warm golden sun, and the salty sea air.

“Some days as the sun set, the tide would come in and wash away everything you worked on. And you’d cry. Cry your little heart out. There wasn’t anything I wanted more than to pick you up, and hold you in my arms, comfort you. But you were at that age where you needed to start learning how to comfort yourself. So I let you cry. And after you’d got out all your tears, sometimes you’d start over. Dig your hands into the sand and start building all over again. Make something new. And sometimes you’d give up, walk away and come sit by me.”

“Yeah mom I remember...but, what does that have to do with anything?”

“You built your marriage with Namjoon on a foundation of love, faith, and trust. That’s your sandcastle. And now that trust has been washed away you don’t know what to do, and you're crying out for me. Baby, I love you, but you’re gonna have to make this decision for yourself. I can’t make it for you. Whatever you decide, I will be right behind you, supporting you. If you want to stay and find a way to be together I will be here. If you want to divorce him I’ll be here for that, too. But you have to decide.”

You let her words sink in. You knew she was right. But you were so frustrated, so overwhelmed you burst into tears again. “How am I supposed to decide? It’s so hard to know what choice is right.”

“I don’t–I don’t want to make a mistake…” You said through sobs.

“(Y/n), the only thing worse than staying or going, is you holding your breath and being indecisive. You have to make a choice. Decide.”

You couldn't think of how to act on your mother’s advice back then, but in the present, you understood. You squinted in the dark and looked at the time. The clock on your nightstand reads 5:22 AM in bold red letters. You hadn’t even realized you’d been up all night with your thoughts.

You looked over at the man causing you this great affliction. Pale moonlight streamed through the window illuminated his heart-shaped face. You once thought of him to be a monster, but he wasn’t. He was just human. And for once, you finally sorted your feelings about him. You weren’t in limbo anymore.

You knew your decision:

Leave him | Choose him

#bts fic #bts scenario #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #namjoon scenarios #reader x namjoon #my fics.🍪#poc reader #songfic #fic: promises

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panjakes · 10 months

Note

Can I get this fluff where Namjoon and the reader are parents(they have like three kids) and Namjoon takes them to Disney world and the kids are really excited so they’re going wild and it stresses Namjoon out😭😭Thank you🫶🏼

“Daddy I hungry!”

“Daddy I have to use the bathroom!”

Namjoon sighs shaking his head. He was currently at Disney world with his family but his wife was no where to be found

“Daddy’s where’s mommy?”

“I don’t know baby” he says pulling out his phone to call her but immediately stops when his son in the stroller started crying

“Daddy Coby’s crying”

Namjoon sighs looking down at his daughter who looked up at him with her big brown eyes

“Thank you Akilah, try and calm him down please” he says dialing his wife’s phone. He looks around and noticed that he’s missing a child.

“Nailah?? Nailah?! Akilah where’s your sister?!” He asks

“I don’t know” she says playing with her brothers feet

“Hello?!”

“Yn?! Where the hell are you?!” He asks into the phone looking around for his other child

“I’m at the food stand. I’m hungry” she says making Namjoon sigh

“What food stand there are like forty different ones” Namjoon asks finally spotting Nailah walking over to her

“Uhh it’s blue and white” Yn says making Namjoon look around

“Stay there! Don’t move!” He says before hanging up. He quickly picks up Nailah who was poking at some things

“Hey!” She says

“Nailah what did mommy and daddy tell you about wondering off?” He asks walking back over to the stroller

“Uhh don’t do it because it’s dangerous?” She says

“Exactly! Don’t do it again!” He says putting her down next to the stroller

“Daddy I have to use the bathroom” Akilah says making Namjoon groan

“Kilah baby can you hold it?” He asks

“I don’t think so! I think I’ll pee of myself” she says hopping up and down.

“Okay come on” Namjoon says grabbing her hand and pushing the stroller. The walk up to the bathroom and Namjoon looks at the two small girls

“Nailah take your sister to the bathroom” Namjoon says

“Okay! Come on Kilah” she says taking her sisters hand and going into the bathroom.

Namjoon sighs sitting down on the bench outside pulling the stroller closer to him. He looks down at his son who was now calm and bitting on his fingers

“Who knew a trip to freaking Disney world would be so damn stressful” he mumbles

He shakes his head but quickly stops when he noticed his wife walking pass the bathroom

“Yn!” He shouts gaining her attention. She turns around looking at me before walking over

“Hey babe” she says

“Hey babe? Hey babe?!?! Yn where the hell were you?!” He asks

“I told you at the food stand” she says bitting into the Micky mouse waffle sandwich she was eating

“And how much was that?!” He asks

“I think about 15 dollars” she says shrugging

“You have got to be kidding me? Yn really?” He says

“What? I got you one too” she says handing him a bag

He stares at her before snatching the bag and pulling out the sandwhich

“Where are the girls?” Yn asks looking around

“The bathroom” Namjoon says bitting into the sandwich

Yn takes a piece of waffle from her sandwich and feed it to her son

“Was he good?” Yn asks

“He got fussy for a little bit but stoped when Akilah started playing with him” Namjoon admits

“Mommy!! Nilah almost fell into the toilet!” Akilah says giggling

“How nilah. How?!” Yn asks

“I’m too small for the toilet” Nilah says with a pout

“Now that we’re all here can we all STAY together?” Namjoon asks

“Of course! Come on let’s go ride some rides!” Yn says smiling causing the girls to cheer

The three of them join hands and run off causing Namjoon to sigh

“Didn’t I just say stick together?” Namjoon says quickly following behind his three girls

“Daddy can me and coby get on a ride together” Nilah asks

“No bubble bee Coby isn’t big enough” Namjoon says

“He can sit in my lap!” She says smiling

“Next time bubble bee, I promise” Namjoon says smiling

“Daddy I’m still hungry” Akilah says

“Okay what do you want to eat?” Namjoon asks

“A elephant ear!”Akilah says

“I want one too!”Nilah says excitedly

“No you don’t! You want it cause I do” Akilah says now annoyed

“So what??” Nilah says rolling her eyes

“Bubble bee be nice to your sister”Yn says

“I’m bubble bee she’s honey bee!” Nilah points out

“Babe just leave the nicknames too Me”Namjoon says

“Oh okay, you got it daddy” she says rolling her eyes

“Does Coby have a name?” Akilah asks

“He has Coby” Yn says

“Yeah but like that’s really close to his name” Nilah says

“Well let me think of one and he’ll have one by tonight” Namjoon says making the girl nod

“Can we get on the elephant mommy?” Akilah asks making Yn laugh

“His name is Dumbo and yeah come on!” Yn says running off with the two small girls

Namjoon sighs pushing the stroller as fast as he could

It was now nighttime and the family of five were about to watch the fireworks.

“Come on honeybee!! Wake up!” Namjoon says shaking Nilah who was slumped over in his arms. Yn held Akliah’s hand and Coby in her arms

“Leave her be” Yn says smiling

“But she’ll miss it!” Namjoon says pouting

“That’s her own fault” Akilah says licking at her ice cream while Colby looked around at all the bright lights around him

“Babe! Let’s take a picture!” Yn says reaching into the diaper bag pulling out the green Polaroid camera.

“Come on honey bee wake up! Just for the picture” Namjoon says

“No daddy I’m tired” she says rubbing at her eyes

“Take the picture and then you can sleep” Namjoon says

“Okay” she mumbles

A nearby women seen Namjoon struggling to take the picture

“I’ll take it for you!” She says

“Thank you so much” Namjoon says handing over the camera

“Smile honeybee!” Namjoon says kissing her cheek causing her to give a sleepy smile

“Aw you guys are so cute!” She says handing over the camera and picture

“Thank you” Yn says

They all look at the picture with smiles

“Look Coby! Look at your big ole head!” Yn says causing the baby boy to giggle

“Not cool. Stop talking about my son” Namjoon says making Yn laugh

“Daddy look! The fire works are going to start!” Akilah says pointing to the sky

The loud boom of the fireworks scares Nilah from her peaceful slumber.

She glares at Namjoon before pointing at the fireworks

“Make them stop daddy” she says making you giggle

“That’s out of his control Nilah stop being a baby and watch the fireworks” Akilah says rolling her eyes

“Bumblebee be nice to your sister” Namjoon says sternly

Akilah ignores them and continues to watch the fireworks with her mom and baby brother. When the fireworks were over the small family walked back to their room.

Namjoon being the person he is, booked a conjoined suite allowing the girls to have their own space and him and Yn with coby in the other space.

“Today was fun” Yn says patting coby on the back

“It was stressful but fun” Namjoon says sighing

“Stressful how?” Yn asks getting into the bed laying coby on her chest

“Uh you left me with the kids and I couldn’t find you. Our daughter kept walking off. Coby wouldn’t stop crying and you spent at least 200$ on food.” He says sighing making Yn laugh as she places coby on the bed between them

“I’m sorry baby I won’t do it tomorrow” she says reminding him that they had an entire week left of this

He sighs again sinking into the bed getting face to face with coby

“How about we sit tomorrow out son” he says making the tiny boy giggle

He looks over at Yn watching as she wraps her long braids up putting them into her bonnet. Before he could compliment her on how good she looked the screams of his daughters made his mind go into daddy mode

“Daddy!!!” Nilah screams as she and Akilah run into the room screaming

“Nilah? Kilah? What’s wrong?!” Yn asks also I’m patent mode

The two girls ignore their mother jumping onto Namjoon making him groan.

“Daddy kill it!” Nilah shouts

“Daddy it’s a spider! It’s big! Kill it please!”

Namjoon groans picking up both girls carrying them into the other room.

“Where was he?” Namjoon asks

“IT, was over there by the Tv” Nilah says as Namjoon puts her and her sister on the bed

Namjoon walks over to the tv stand seeing the itty bitty tiny spider. Sighing he steps on it and cleans it up with a napkin.

“He’s gone. Now it’s lights off” he says

“Daddy we can’t find our bonnets” Akilah says making Namjoon sigh

“Did you leave them at home?!” He asks hoping they didn’t because he knew his wife spent a long time on their hair and would be upset if they messed up their hair

“No we put them in a bag” Nilah says

“In a bag? What bag?” He asks making them shrug and making him groan

“Okay stay right here and be quiet mommy’s putting coby to bed” Namjoon says walking out the room Spotting Yn on the bed feeding coby,

“Can you give the girls their bonnets? They’re on the dresser over there” she says making Namjoon silently cheer plucking the bonnets from the piece of furniture

He rushes into the other room wrapping up the girls hair like Yn taught him.

“Alright girls. Lights out.” Namjoon says turning off the big light and turning on the small Micky mouse night light

“Daddy, can I have Micky mouse pancakes?” Nilah asks

“You can have whatever you want honey bee” he says placing a kiss on her forehead

“Can I have princess tiana waffles?!” Akilah asks excitedly making Namjoon laugh

“Of course you can, goodnight. I love you” Namjoon says before kissing her forehead

“Goodnight daddy! Love you too!” The says before turning over in opposite directions to fall asleep

Namjoon walks out the room closing it leaving it cracked.

He sighs getting into the bed looking over at his wife and son. Coby was asleep as Yn rocked him slowly.

“I’m not doing this again tomorrow” Namjoon says throwing the blanket over his head

“Sure, see you in the morning my love” Yn says leaning down to kiss his lips

“I’m serious Yn. Do not wake me up” he mumbles

She is so going to wake him up.

#ambw fic #black reader #ambw #black girls are beautiful #black reader insert #kpop poc #kpop #x black reader #x black!reader #kpop imagines #bts x black reader #namjoon x reader #blackreader #blackyn #blackfemreader

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lovecoree · 1 year

Note

hi !! first i wanted to say thank you so much for writing for black readers this means a lot to me 🫶🏽 i also have a request , could you write something about sitting next to namjoon at the fashion week and being endeared by him because of how sweet he’s acting and how fine he is 😭 just them flirting and then kissing maybe ? thank you for taking your time reading this <33

hello beautiful!

𝐁𝐎𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐆𝐀 𝐌𝐎𝐃𝐄𝐋 — 𝐊𝐍𝐉

pair: idol!Namjoon x model!reader

synopsis: flirting and talking to Namjoon was more interesting then the fashion show.

warning: reader is black coded, flirting, kissing, let me know if I missed anything !

a/n: this was rushed and is very short so I’m sorry !

BTS RM’s Smooth Interaction With model YN LN At The “Bottega Veneta” Show Goes Viral

Your night honestly got better while talking to Namjoon. Such an attractive man manage to make you smile. “I wish you were on the runway, so I could admire you more.” He whispered to you as the models began to walk down the runway. “But you can get the close up version right here.” Tilting your head with a playful smile on your face you watched as Namjoon eyes flicker with a sudden darkness in his eyes— if you could guess probably lust. The flirting was getting to the both of y’all and honestly y’all could care less who was capturing such an intense moment for their article for people worldwide to read.

You definitely have to thank your manager for letting you take a day off and coming up with an agreement to just attend the fashion show. Sitting next to Namjoon was a great decision, the way you quickly picked up a conversation with him and only focused on each other felt nice. “You’re right, I am even more lucky to meet such a beautiful model up close, maybe I’m pushing my luck even further but I’ll like to hang out with you after the show ends?” Namjoon waited for any response from you, the confidence that he showed you was masking his nervous state of rejection. “Or maybe you don’t—” “I’d love to Namjoon.” You smiled calming his anxiety down.

“Ok pretty boy, we are going to be late for our reservation.” You giggled as you wiped off your smudged lipgloss off his now swollen lips. Namjoon checked his phone, the bright light only being the brightness in the dark corner you both scurried off to outside. “It’s 10:05, we got time pretty.” The nickname made you weak in the knees, the moan you let out as he kissed you again passionately. His hands roaming your body as you wrapped your arms around his neck, wanting him to be close as possible.

“What about..your manager, isn’t he waiting for you by the car?” You breath out in between kisses. “He can wait, you’re more important right now.” Kissing down your neck you bit your bottom lip to contain any sound as a few more guest walked out the building.

yea..you definitely have to thank your manager later on.

#black reader #namjoon #kim namjoon #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x black reader #black female oc #black fem reader #bts #bts x reader #bts x black reader #bts namjoon #bts x poc #bts x black girl #bts x female reader

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yongbokology · 1 year

Note

idk if you’re taking any requests or not but if you are could you write jungkook x thick poc 🫶🏽✨

ofc lovely, idk if you meant thick in terms of like reader having a fat ass or a chubby bodied reader or both but for now let’s go with the latter

piercer!jungkook x chubby bodied! poc reader

warnings; possible grammatical errors but f it we ball. smut. ginger yoongi cameo

poc coded for my poc girls

“fuck i’m so nervous..” you mutter to yourself, knee bouncing as you wait for your piercer to get their equipment ready.

you had just finished signing what needed to be signed and now you were waiting your turn but as the seconds went by you were thinking about booking it the hell on out of there.

“relax girl, you’ll be fine. i’ve been getting pierced here for years. they’re going to treat you right, i promise.” ninging’s reassuring you with her dainty, manicured hands, clasped over yours.

you weren’t scared about a needle going through your nipples but you were starting to become a tad self conscious about if it’d look good or not. you heard that this piercing in particular was a confidence booster and it made you want to get them even more.

before you could relay the message to your best friend, a ginger haired male appears from behind the black curtain that sectioned off the next room. with a nod towards said curtain, he gestures you over to follow him and with baited breath.. you do.

your throat feels dry and give one last look to ningning who’s giving you a thumbs up with a big grin stretched across her lips.

you let out a breath and pull the curtains back, entering the next room. your eyes are instantly met with a black chair you’d see in a dentist office and a whole set up that looks expensive as fuck.

pictures of people with various body modifications, tattoos and piercings litter the walls. your eyes travel across the room, taking everything in until they land on a pair of soft brown ones and it’s then, you finally see him.

he’s standing at one of the four corners of the room, cladding his hands in black latex gloves. his dark hair frames his face beautifully, falling a little bit above his broad shoulders. a lip ring hangs onto the bottom of his lip, a silver bar to match on his brow. the rolled up sleeves to his shirt gives you a view of arms, one littered with beautiful ink.

his lips curl into a smile as he immediately notes you ogling at him. the feelings mutual though as he takes in your figure. your outfit complimenting every part of you. there’s something about your presence that’s drawing him in and it’s not just your body.

“alright, i’m gonna go on break.” the gingered male announces, turning on his heels to exit the room.

now it’s just you and who you assume to be your piercer.

“you can have a seat in that chair over there,” his voice is sweet. it doesn’t match his looks at all but hey, you’re not complaining.

“I’m jungkook by the way.”

“..y/n”

you bite your inner cheek as you make your way over to the chair, holding your purse close to your stomach, waiting for further instructions. As you sit in the chair it’s dawning on you that this hot ass fucking piercer, looking fresh out of the front page of vogue, is going to see your tits.

The thought makes your chest feel heavy, you chew on your bottom lip in an attempt to control your mind from wandering elsewhere.

With all the shuffling behind you, you presume that he’s getting his equipment ready. You're lost in your thoughts, constantly turning on your phone to check the time and for notifications even though you knew there weren’t any. Your head snaps up at the sound of his voice, slightly startled due to the fact that it’s been a while since he spoke.

He’s standing next to you now. Matter of fact, towering over you, a soft expression etched onto his face.

“You know, if you’re uncomfortable with me doing it. Our female piercer is like coming in thirty-”

“No! I’m fine honestly,” you reassure the man but he’s not so convinced.. So you hesitantly press further. “I’m not worried about that.. It’s just that i’m kind of having doubts about getting them.”

In all of jungkook’s seven years as a piercer, he’s heard it all. He was familiar with the nervous looks and anxious ticks. He’s heard all in the questions and concerns in the book. So with that being said.

“You know,” he starts, resting his tattooed arm on the chair while leaning down towards you, that fucking grin forming on his lips again. At this point he’s close enough to the point where you can smell the faint scent of thc that’s over powered by the minty gum that he’s currently chewing.

Your heart is in your throat as your eyes are basically bulging out your head. You usually weren’t one for people being in your personal space but this was okay.. More than okay.

God, you felt like such a perv for wanting him to come in closer.

“I’ve heard that i’m pretty convincing. Why are you doubting the piercing?”

You swallow thickly, blinking rapidly as you try to find your voice. “I’m kind of worried they won’t look good on me.” your voice is small.

Jungkook is slightly taken aback, a hint of confusion spreads across his features before he drops it and flashes you a warm smile. “If that’s the case, you have nothing to worry about.. But if you want a second opinion, lift up your shirt for me.”

Your insides are internally screaming at the last part. Even though you were aware he was just doing his job, the tone of his voice was taking effect on you. So much so that jungkook notices the way your thighs subconsciously push together. Oh, he likes this.

It takes you a few seconds to actually grab onto the ends of your shirt, lifting it up over your breasts.

Jungkook runs his tongue across his pierced lip, eyes glued to your chest and for a while he doesn’t say anything and you begin to feel more self conscious than before. As you begin to pull down your shirt, he grabs your wrist with his free hand, he’s looking at you with an intense stare that makes your heart leap out of your chest.

“As a piercer, you have nothing to worry about,”

You find your lips moving faster than your mind is able to comprehend.

“Personal opinion?”

Jungkook’s gaze drops down to your chest before flickering back to your face.

“I’ll show you, if you let me,” he’s dropping down to his knees, face leveled between your thighs, tilting his head while he’s looking up at you. “Please?”

You immediately find yourself nodding. You feel your core heat beneath your shorts. You’re slightly startled when he pushes the lever down, bringing your chair down so that he’s face to face with your tits.

He’s staring up at you as he’s leaning in, looking for any signs of uncomfort. He’s so close now. His breath fans onto your sensitive bud, closing his eyes as he takes it into his mouth. It warm. So warm.

Your lip is pulled between your teeth as you watch him. His tongue swipes over your nipple and it’s then that you feel something small poke against it and it dawns on you that he has a tongue piercing. The realization makes your cunt flutter, you try clenching your thighs again but is obstructed jungkook whose body you forgot was in between them.

His hands find their way to your plush thighs, smoothing his palms over them as his eyes flicker open.

You can’t control the obscenity that’s flying out your mouth. “F-fuck.” you whimper which makes jungkook’s dick twitch in his pants.

He removes his lips from your now wet nipple, kissing the top of your knee. “You have to be quiet for me, pretty girl ‘kay?”

You look up towards the fluorescent light and silently nod, cheeks heating in the process at the nickname he threw in there.

He’s smiling before going back in but this time giving your other nipple some attention. His ministrations are ten fold this time. His tongue swirls against your nipple while sliding one of his hands onto your clothed cunt. His hand slides under your pussy, rubbing his nimble fingers against it. You’re responsive with a soft gasp leaving you. This makes jungkook smile and he switches from working his tongue on you to full on sucking your tit.

You look down to see jungkook and god does submissive look so good on him. He’s got an innocent look going as if he’s not making out with your tit and totally not trying to finger fuck you in the process.

The sight makes you moan softly, your back arches off the chair and this makes jungkook’s fingers move faster. He somehow finds your clit through your shorts and rubs it, applying pressure.

Your moans are music to his ears, he’s half hard but could probably cum off this alone. Pleasure looks absolutely gorgeous on you and he’d do anything to see you like this again.. Maybe even forever.

He’s lost in you until your breathing is heavy and you’re looking down on him again. “J-jungkook,”

He’s humming against your nipple “hm?”

“I’m gonna cum.” you’re whining at this point, face twisted and ridden with euphoria.

In one swift move that leaves you utterly speechless because he’s practically handling you with ease, he unlatches himself from your nipple and tears down your panties and your shorts down to your knees. He wraps his arms around your deliciously thick thighs, pulling you down towards the end of the chair, leaving your pussy exposed to him.

He takes a moment to admire how wet you are for him, practically drooling at how pretty your pussy is. He wastes no more time and attaches his lips to your clit, sucking on it harshly. His tongue delves down your slit then back up to your clit, flicking it with the ball of his tongue piercing.

your hands fly to his hair, tugging on it which makes jungkook moan into your pussy. the vibrations adding onto the immense pleasure you were already feeling.

your eyes roll to the back of your head, lost in the midst of it all as he goes from licking at your clit to full on fucking you with his tongue. your mouth is ajar at the feeling and soon enough you’re creaming around his tongue, a broken cry falling from your pretty lips.

jungkook laps it all up like a man starved. you shudder at the feeling of being overstimulated but you taste so good he basks in it, hoping that you have more for him. when he realizes that you don’t he taps your thigh to get you to look at him.

it takes all the strength you have left and crane your neck down towards him, slowly opening your eyes. jungkook smiles at the fact how utterly fucked out you are but still manage to look so pretty.

“piercing free of charge if you can squirt for me.”

please this was supposed to be like a small drabble

#jungkook x reader #bts #hoseok x reader #namjoon x reader #yoongi x reader #jimin smut #namjoon smut #taehyung smut #taehyung x reader #yoongi smut #jungkook smut #bts x reader #jungkook x black reader #jungkook x poc reader

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missbangtangirl · 1 year

Text

Dayummmm 🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥 D-Day out now

#augst d #suga #bts suga #min yoongi x black reader #min yoogni #bts grammy #bts headcanons #bts ambw #bts gif #bts x poc #bts scenarios #bts smut #jung hosek #jimin park #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #kim seokjin #jeon jungkook

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aseaofyoongi · 2 years

Text

rivals academia | knj

pairing: knj x reader (f)

genre: slight angst/smut

rating: mature audiences ONLY (strictly 18+)

wc: 4.2 thousand

summary: you and kim namjoon absolutely hate eachother but after you’re both paired for a school project — things get rather interesting at the school library.

warnings: enemies to one-night stand (potential fwb) unprotected sex (wrap it up yall); penetrative sex; hand job; fingering; brief nipple play; teasing; dirty talk; public sex; foul language; dirty talk; bickering; thigh riding; slight degradation; praise kink; i think thats it ??; namjoon’s fucking thighs; i was having a moment of weakness please; college au

posted: sunday september 11th, 2022

Repulsed.

That’s precisely the word indicative enough to portray exactly how you felt. Repulsed, repugnant, nauseated, revolting — it all came rushing in like a wave of rage aggressively meeting the golden shores.

It was overwhelming yet still - here you sat across from him and his absolutely irritating aura. It excluded an intoxicating amount of cockiness and an irritating deal of arrogance.

His presence was so irritating.

So fucking irritating.

“Are we supposed to finish this whole project today?” He asked exasperated - as if putting off the project until the last minute wasn’t his exact idea and now he wants to treat it as a nuisance?

“The project is due Monday, Kim. And it is 8:00PM Friday,” you briefly examined the watch sitting on your wrist, “and I’m guessing you have plans for the entire weekend?”

Namjoon nodded eagerly, picking up his phone for the thousandth time but you snatched it right out of his hand.

“What the—”

“It’s time to get to work. For real this time, Kim.” You shoved his phone in your purse, “I'm tired of you just pretending to do things.”

“Can I have my phone back?” He uttered through gritted teeth.You could’ve sworn you saw clouds of smoke emitting from his ears as his usually chocolate eyes turned red hot with anger, “Now!.”

“You’ll get it back when you actually fucking do something for once.” You snapped back — standing your ground.

He slouched back on the wooden library chair and scoffed typing away at his laptop.

Kim Namjoon.

If it wasn’t obvious he wasn’t your first choice for a project partner, however, your Intro to Art History professor thought otherwise. And now you suffered the consequences; bearing the temper tantrums of a man baby.

“What was the year for Venus of Urbino again?”

“1534.”

“Artist?”

“Titian.”

“Interpretation some believe?”

You huffed — he was truly insufferable, “did you even read the cards she passed out?”

He rolled his eyes, “does it look like I did?”

“Kim, do I really have to do your part of the project too?”

He quirked a brow as he shrugged, “you’re the one holding me hostage.”

“I’m not holding you anything. You have a responsibility to this project as my partner. This doesn’t just fall on me.”

“And yet here I am contributing absolutely nothing and you’re already doing both our jobs so you might as well excuse me.” He pushed his chair back in an attempt to stand-up.

“I swear if you so much as take a step, Kim,” you stood up from the table from him — your eyes sternly set on his. You were not afraid of him, “your name will be removed from this entire fucking project and word on the street is you’re current GPA isn’t really securing you a place on the team. What is the athlete’s magic number again? 2.5 right?”

“Ouch!” His full lips curved into a smile. His chasmic dimples on full display. You could sense the sarcasm even in the simple phrase your attention was averted towards his lips. It’s rather nice. His smile that is. You didn’t really see it often but his smile — fuck — it was picturesque; similar to the sunset as it kissed the deepest depths of the cerulean sea when nighttime lurked behind in its shadows.

“Don’t hold back now.” he uttered, taking a seat once again.

“I don’t intend to.”

“Tell me, doll. Are you always this dense?”

You ignored him and continued typing your section of the project. Just pretend he’s not even here — you repeat in your head.

“Are you going to answer my question on Venus about the depiction or should I spend the next hour researching it?”

You looked up at him and there it is again. The soft strokes of curvatures of his golden cheeks painting a delicate smile.

“It is literally a five minute search,” You cleared your throat in an attempt to be clear and to avoid having to repeat yourself, “but to save you the trouble; we're focusing on sexuality through the ages she is theorized to be masturbating, Kim.”

“Masturbating?”

“Precisely, with the way she’s laying naked and the placement of her hands — it’s only been assumed by some and obviously our professor as well considering she included it.”

Namjoon huffed. “Interesting.”

“Not at all,” you pointed at his laptop, “now write it down.”

“You don’t think so?”

“Where is this going, Kim?”

“Well,” he began, “I don’t mean to be lewd—”

“You already are, Kim.”

“It’s Joon,” Namjoon smirked, “but have you ever?”

His words were brief but they were tainted with a vivid carmine hue — all of it backtracked with sexual intent. And truly you despised the kaleidoscope of butterflies erupting at the pit of your stomach.

“That is none of your business.”

“—but it is something to be curious about.”

“I don’t see why,” though the library was completely vacant and you both sat in a private study area for some reason you could feel a swarm of watchful judging eyes — all of them condemning everything you've ever done. Everything right down to that very question. You shifted in your seat clearly affected at the utterances of his beguiling words, “and the next artwork on the list is The Swing. Figure it out.”

“Truly, has a girl like you even —” he chuckled, “never mind.”

“What could you possibly mean by that?” there was a feeling bubbling deep inside but you couldn’t quite decipher what it was. Anger? Annoyance? Bashfulness? .

“I just mean you’re innocent.”

“Innocent?”

“You could barely say ‘masturbation’ without a stutter a couple minutes ago,” he shrugged and you knew that in his own twisted way Namjoon was using this as another thing to hold over you.

“Have you ever thought that maybe I just don’t feel like discussing those things with you. This has nothing to do with how innocent you think I am.”

“I think. .” He drifted off. His chin was now propped up on his palms.

“You think?” you emphasized the word ‘think.’

“You wanna know what I think?”

“Is it that maybe you should shut up for once so we can get this project done already?”

“In fact,” he scoffed, beginning to share his theory anyway, “I think you’re a virgin.”

“That’s a great observation, Kim. Now let’s move on to what we’re actually here for.”

He slouched down in his chair, his arms now crossed at his chest, his eyes laid intently on you sitting right across from him. His watchfulness was kind of — intimidating to say the least.

“Kim, it’s 9PM. Can we please?” you sighed your eyes, never leaving the brightness of your screen.

“I would but it’s just so hard to concentrate.”

You sighed, “what will it take for you to finally move on and finish this project once and for all?” You shut your laptop, your eyes finally meeting his once again,

“Answer my question. Have you ever masturbated?”

His cavernous voice was bottomless like the deep sea and the obscenity in his words sent a glacial shiver down your spine. Was his voice always this low? You’d never really noticed before.

“I know you may think I’m familial to freaks of some sort but like any normal person I have in fact masturbated Joon,” you let out all in one breathe.

“You called me Joon,”

“I did,” his smile beamed brighter than sun rays — the rapid thumping of your heart beat aggressively thumped against the walls of your chest and you were afraid he might just be able to hear, “Are we done or do you also need a demonstration?”

“Let’s make your proposition a bit more sensible,” he began.

“I was kidding.”

“It was your idea,” The air in the room grew thicker. It constricted your airway and for a minute you felt like you couldn’t breathe. Were the air vents even opened here? You checked and they were, “are you already backing out now?”

“Joon. .”

“Tell me,” his voice was provocative and you feared one more soft utter would have you stripped bare with little to no command.

“Tell you?” your leg is bouncing under the wooden table and you could feel your palms growing clammy.

The soft glimmer of the luminous moonbeam was casted upon him accentuating his sun-kissed tone and the striking features staring back at you intently — his glistening cherry lips, the way his dimples formed at the mere appearance of the smirk on his face and his stern amber gaze still so intimidating. It made you feel small but you are not going to show him the power he could have over you.

“What do you wanna hear?” your tone now masked in thin layers of silk.

He panted softly, “I want to hear it all.”

“You wanna hear about how I lay completely bare with my head propped up against my pillows. Eyes shut tightly as my hands explore every single inch of my body pretending it’s someone else?”

“Fuck-” His hands dug under the waistband of his sweats. Your eyes now casted on the way the cotton light grey fabric rhythmically moved up and down repeatedly. His chest heaved as his breathing became uneven — and in that moment you could not think of a more captivating sight. Like an erotic painting right out of the renaissance era. You remained at your previous position behind his chair, “but when I get tired of that I have to resort to other measures as you may know.”

“I d-don’t know..” he groaned. His tone expressed frustration and arousal combined. The repulsion you once felt ceased and all your mind could become aware of was the vast ocean accumulating between your thighs; staining the fabric of your underwear as the sight of Namjoon stroking himself in the campus library became imprinted in your mind.

“Sometimes, I also like to mount my pillow placing my thighs on each side as I move my hips steadily against the soft fabric. Slowly rolling my hips back and forth until I’m finally able to reach that high,” you whispered.

His soft pants filled the stillness and furnished the serenity amongst the vacant tables and chairs right outside the private study room. The sounds so addicting it looped within the walls of your head like a vinyl on a broken record player.

“Y-You—” was all he could manage as he became enthralled in his own pleasure, the sweat forming at his temples could attest to it.

“Can I touch you Joon?”

“Please.”

You placed a velvet kiss on the nape of his neck. Your hands found their way up to his dark strands — you softly tugged at it, pushing his head back, “well I’m not the one with my hands in my pants. Am I?”

A thunderous chuckle rumbled within the four walls of the secluded study room, “Please believe you are the clear cause of this.”

“I didn’t do anything, Joon.” you let out an airy laugh, “just provided details of a scenario per your request. Remember?”

“You’re a fucking demon.”

“And you’re too easy. Just like every other horny dude on this campus.”

“Please—” He begged, grabbing onto your wrist before you could walk away. This tone was husk and as much as you hated to admit it. It was like an alluring song to your ears all of it shooting right down to your core just like everything he did. “I need you.”

I need you. The three words invaded your tympanum serving as a command for his needed pleasure and you felt as if your feet vacated their stance on the ground. His honey voice was lulling and if he continued to say anything in that tone, you’d fear your dignity would rid itself and follow every single thing he’d bark without objection. Every bone in your body already begged you to comply; to do it for you and chase your own pleasure — and as much as your mind screamed at you to leave. You listened to the throbbing between your legs instead.

“Pull it all down,” You ordered and Joon quickly rid himself of the pesky fabrics standing between him and utter vulnerability. He didn’t even bother to get up, just allowed them to pool at his ankles. His rather massive erection now on full display — shocked wasn’t the word you were looking for. After all, Joon always exuded the aura that he was considerable in size but nevertheless it was a pleasant reaffirmation to your lingering rumors.

Joon cleared his throat pulling your eyes away from his erection — your trance was essentially amusing to him, you could see it painted on his smirk, “You can come closer you know. If you want to.”

“Closer?”

Joon softly tapped on his bare thighs. His thick fucking thighs. Having attended numerous of his soccer games you were constantly given a sneak peak at his toned legs. His upper thighs often lolled you into a fantasy that was now taking play right before you and instead of following the script your head had created for you on multiple occasions; instead you sat here salivating at the clear view of his lower half without the burden of shorts being in the way.

“Come sit. Please,” his pleading made your legs turn to jello — the way his tone so delicately continued to voice his intricate needs was fucking sexy. Although you’ve only been sitting on top of his left thighs approximately 30 seconds now you couldn’t help the way you were throbbing at an uncontrollable beat. You were certain he could feel it too — it was plastered all over his shit-eating grin.

“Can you be a good girl and move for me please?” His tone still velvet to the touch.

Your underwear were already drenched and you were terrified he would notice — the lack of shorts under your skirt left only the thin cotton fabric of your underwear to meet his thighs. But you were not going to back down. Not now.

“Have you done this before?”

“No,” you simply stated.

“Just follow along.”

You nodded.

Initially, the mere feeling of his hands secured around your waist clouded your thoughts entirely. His warm grasp sent waves of electric currents down your spine but nothing prepared you for the feeling that bubbled in your core as soon as his sinful hands instructed you to move. The pace began agonizingly slow and you followed his motion moving forward and backwards against his thigh.

You whimpered, “It feels so good. .”

Joon laughed — the sound drummed at your eardrums and without a stutter in his rhythm you were being guided to move against him faster and faster as he continued flexing his thigh muscles causing all that more friction against your lower half.

“N-namjoon,” You moaned holding on to his chest for support; your head rolled back as you grew consumed by pleasure.

His hands vacated their place on your waist but you continued the steady pace against him chasing a high you knew you were very close to achieving. Joon’s attention was diverted into your clothed chest.

“Can I take your shirt and bra off?”

“Mhm,” was all you truly could manage.

Though, you were breaking a sweat going at it against his thighs as soon as your top half was stripped you felt a draft of cool air meet your perky nipples. The slight frigidness you briefly felt subsided and instead you were met with Joon’s warm touch once again except now it was taking a hold of your breast — his slender finder massaged one while the other was taken care of by his plump lips. Your hands traveled to the back of his neck as the rhythm of your hips stopped against his thigh. Your senses now focused entirely on the way he swirled his tongue against the sensitive bud.

He paused for a moment looking up at you through hooded eyes, “did I say you could stop?”

“No.”

“Then, continue riding my thigh until I say it’s enough.”

The switch off between his pleads for consent and the way he barked orders in your direction shot straight down only adding to the piled up sexual frustration bubbling deep within you but nevertheless you obeyed — now taking on a slower pace against him as he continued his attack on your breasts.

Locked away in a retreat of arousal and between slurred words and dazed moans you asked Joon if he was in accordance with receiving some attention as well.

“I want to focus on you.”

“And I on you,”

“If you insist,” he gave in, “just stay on my lap.”

His words set a stump in wanting to suck him off but ultimately you settled for using your hands. After aiming down to use your saliva as lubricant you could see the shock sitting behind his lust induced eyes. Your hands began working at his length mimicking his earlier motions — there was nothing more you wanted than to be on your knees in front of him but you were glad you fought against those urges when you felt his hands traveling under your skirt to move your panties to the side.

“Fuck.” He hissed, “you’re drenched.” Joons words only affect you in the worst way possible. Causing the pool between your thighs to deepen, “you claim you’re so fucking quiet but that’s all a facade you know. You’re a fucking slut.”

You never thought a word would affect you as much as being called a slut but you fucking loved it.

“Call me that again,” you whined, “call me that again, please.”

“You’re a slut — you know that?” the soft pads of his fingers finally arrived at their destination and quickly began massaging your clit . . lento. An eruption of lights fired in the back of your mind as Joon continued to immerse himself in bringing you utter satisfaction. You were levitating — your body vibrated which only accentuated the feeling of his heavenly touch.

“Your slut.” your lips ‘fessed up before your brain could register what you actually said.

“My slut.” He sat-up on the wooden chairs but his fingers abandoned your bundle of nerves and traveled further down resting at your entrance, “You know what you’re doing to me right?”

His face was just inches away from yours but your eyes were set on his lips — you leaned forward. Both of you began composing a magical piece in the way your lips danced against each other. His kisses were drug induced and you were already addicted; making it impossible to even pull away so you didn’t and he certainly didn’t either. Under your skirt his phantom touch ceased until you felt his pointer and middle fingers push past your entrance.

“Your fingers are blessed Joon. . They’re fucking blessed. .” you rambled on, “Blessed.”

“You think so?” He pushed them further in causing a strain of moans to fall from your swollen lips.

“Hmm.”

Joon’s pace picked up as he continued to move in and out of you repeatedly. Truly, all the words you could make out were stuttered strings of praises toward his fingers. They were fucking blessed and right then you swore you could write a million poems just on how delectable they felt inside of you.

“Uh, J-Joon. I’m so close. . so so fucking close Joon.”

“Come for me,” he whispered against the nape of your neck as he continued peppering you with silken kisses.

“Shit. .”

His fingers continued moving at a rapid pace as they finally met that spot that drove you over the edge. If you were levitating before you could easily confirm that now you danced amongst the twinkling stars.

“You were so good for me.” He was panting, his chest matching your heaving as you came down from your high, “so fucking good for me.”

His words were always so intricately sensual and you could feel your arousal throb at his dulcet praises.

Why did you hate him again? You couldn’t recall ever having such a feeling for the man you were currently straddling.

You didn’t hate him. You craved him.

After Namjoon removed his hands from underneath your skirt he brought his fingers up to your mouth and smeared your juice on your lips like lip gloss. Before you knew it you were welcoming his digits past your cerise lips tasting your sweet nectar right off his fingers.

“You are so hot.”

“Did it really take having me half naked on your lap for you to realize that?”

“Actually, no. . only one of us in this room actually hated the other.”

“I didn’t hate you.” you blurred out.

“I didn’t say you did, doll. But since you practically snitched on yourself I think it’s safe to say you despise me. ”

“I despised you. As it's in the past,” you corrected him.

“Dick is all it took to change your mind?”

“Hmm,” you took Joon’s cock in your hand slowly pumping at his shaft once again. And he just looked so good— slouched on the chair, his hair disheveled, a slight glow taking hold of his forehead and chest as sweat ran down his tan skin tone. His grin showed the way his teeth sparkle even in the darkness of the room. Namjoon is pulchritudinous and you are under his spell, “I would need to actually have you inside me to make that deduction.”

“I-I didn’t bring protection,” he let out in-between pants.

“I mean I’m clean. Are you?”

He nodded eagerly. But that didn’t suffice. You wanted to hear his raspy voice as confirmation. You tightened your hold on his erection just a bit, “I didn’t hear you.”

His jaw was clenched but still managed a soft, “I’m clean.”

“Perfect.”

Joon welcomed you back on his lap now accompanying him in complete nudity after you had finally decided to rid yourself of the clothes still covering your lower half. His keen gaze felt like it cut right through your confidence like a knife. And although it was a bit intimidating you didn’t let it set a stumble in your actions. His hand landed back on your waist like earlier that night and he guided you towards the tip of his erection.

“Hold it while you go down.”

You complied. Taking him inch-by-inch, your mouth forming into an ‘O’ immediately after his tip pushed past your entrance.

“Y-you’re so fucking big,” you could’ve sworn his length was sucking the air right out of you like a vacuum.

If you thought Namjoon’s thighs and fingers are graces sent by God himself, there was absolutely nothing in this world that could compare to his cock. There was nothing in this world that could feel so—

“J-Joon,” you moaned, attempting to keep up with the overwhelming pleasure driven by the guidance of his clammy hands as you bounced on his dick.

“You feel so good, doll. You’re doing so well.”

His praises you discovered are your weakness — his words were dipped in honey and they fed your ears affirmations you could not get enough of. Your head grew hazy at the duality in his words.

That alone drove you closer and closer to the edge. Not to mention the way his thrusts met yours was a sufficient contribution to your demise — you are about to crumble at the mercy of Kim Namjoon’s massive dick.

“R-right there,” your temples glisten with sweat and you could feel the scratchiness in your throat take flight after the past hour you’ve just had, “don’t— please don’t stop.”

“Mhm. .” His thrusts are harder. Deeper. You could feel the way he continued meeting you right where you needed him most. His eyes never lose contact where your bodies meet comforted in the way he disappears inside of you entirely.

And he continued fucking you so good. Fucking you into oblivion.

The silence that once tip-toed around the both of you was gone never to be seen again. Instead it was replaced by the squeaking of the chair (which you continued to pray it wouldn’t break), Namjoon’s groans and your slurred obscenities. It was like that for a while until your legs began to shake and your moans became too loud to suppress. Until your juices coated his cock and his filled you up.

“The Swing-” he managed after catching his breath, “Jean-Honoré Fragonard, 1767. It symbolizes the ideas of infidelity, desire, eroticism and love. The guy on the bottom left is peeking up her dress right?”

“Huh?”

“The next one on the list for our project.”

You stared at him wide-eyed, a bit stunned by the realization, “You knew the information this entire time?”

“I had to get your attention somehow right,” he snickered.

“I hate you, Kim Namjoon,” you laughed playfully, landing a punch on his arm.

“After tonight, I think we both know that is simply not true.”

authour’s note: it took me forever to finish this for a lot of reasons but the main being that thisismyfirstsmutandiwassupernervoustopost so lol sorry if its — bad — i do apologize in advance. I tried and am using it as a way to break out of that shell and explore uncharted grounds. either way i hope some of you enjoy it lol

thank you for reading <3

- em

#kim namjoon #bts rm #bts #namjoon drabble #namjoon smut #bts smut #bangtan sonyeondan #joon smut #rm smut #bts au masterlist #bts college au #bts drabble #namjoon x reader #rm x reader #bts x reader #bts angst #poc kpop #em stories

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unique-high · 9 months

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[2:37 am] Namjoon x blk fem reader

I wanna eat pancakes for dinner. I wanna get stuck in your head.

Namjoon taps his pen on the pages of his notebook while he watched you moved about your tiny kitchen making pancakes. He did a doodle of you in the corner of the pages flipping a pancake and the pancake landing on your face. He wanted pancakes for dinner with you tonight. You were the best at making them since you worked at a pancake cafe downtown.

Lately, for Namjoon, things started to change when he looked at you. He thought of you a lot these days, more in ways than a friend shouldn't. Even wrote songs and poems about you that he would never share.

He wonders if he ever got stuck in your head the way you were stuck in his. He would compare you to a million things, but his favorite one being: “She's like lilacs blooming in the spring.”

Namjoon found lilacs comforting with their pretty smell, and you were no different from the lilacs. Whenever he needed comfort, he would run to you. He liked how his body would curve into yours when he finally hugged you and cried until his soul was empty, and he liked how your voice was soft and felt like summer.

You and Namjoon ate pancakes at the dining table. Namjoon had maple syrup dripping from his lips. You reached across the table with a napkin cleaning his mouth. “You've always been a messy eater.” You smiled at him.

Namjoon chokes on a piece of pancake only because he was taken aback by your smile. When did her smile become so pretty? He thought.

Namjoon wanted to say something, but he was afraid of saying the wrong thing and crossing lines he shouldn't.

But you were his friend and what could it hurt by telling you: “Y/n, your smile, It's really pretty like you.” Namjoon cringed at how corny it might have sounded. He stuffed pieces of pancakes into his mouth to avoid saying anything else.

You liked it, though. How he thought you were pretty. He noticed how you tried to hide your new smile by putting your head down a bit so he wouldn't see. He thinks it's cute.

A/N: I do take requests as long as it isn't anything smut. 😭

#fanfic #kpop fanfic #kpop x black reader #kpop x ambw #bts x y/n #bts x black reader #bts x black girl #namjoon x black reader #namjoon x reader #kpop x poc reader #kpop timestamps #kpop x fem black reader #bts x poc #bts x fluff #bts namjoon #songfic #bts scenarios #bts x reader #Spotify

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hobicakess · 2 years

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Mafia Wives Of Seoul

SUMMARY: Being the wives of Seoul biggest criminals isn’t easy. It comes with multiple hardships and obstacles. Be ready to get a closer look inside the lives of Bangtan boys 7 lovers

RATING: 18+

PAIRINGS: Kim Namjoon x OC Kim Seokjin x OC Min Yoongi x OC Jung Hoseok x OC Park Jimin x OC Kim Taehyung x OC Jeon JungKook x OC

TAGS: Yandere!bts, Mafia!bts, heavy angst,extremely toxic relationships, smut, violence, drugs, violence, misogyny, fluff, aave (African-American vernacular)more to be added

⚠️ THERE ARE SPOILERS IN THE ASKS AND CONFESSIONS

A/N: I’ve had this lil series in my head for a while but seriously DO NOT ROMANTICIZE!! but also enjoy.

╰┄─➤ Talk To The Wives And Husbands.

╰┄─➤ Meet The Wives.

╰┄─➤ How They Met

╰┄─➤Ariel Catches Jin Cheating

╰┄─➤ Tina and Namjoon

╰┄─➤ Jasmine and Seokjin

╰┄─➤ Diamond and Yoongi

╰┄─➤ Quinn and Hoseok

╰┄─➤ Jimin and Athena

╰┄─➤ Tiana and Taehyung

╰┄─➤ Ariel and Jungkook

╰┄─➤ Ariel’s wedding

╰┄─➤ Fight Night

╰┄─➤ You’re not that girl

#Mafia!bts #yandere!bts #kim namjoon x reader #kim seokjin x reader #min yoongi x reader #bts x reader #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #jiminbts #park jimin x reader #bts x black reader #bts x black girl #bts x poc #hobi x reader

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linos-luna · 10 months

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Fake 🥀🔪❣️

Yandere!Namjoon x Reader

Warnings: manipulation, Yandere, light smut, dirty talk, possessive behavior, gaslighting?

(F/n = friend’s name)

————————————————————————

“You can’t leave me, y/n… because you know I’ll always find you.”

These words made you shudder. Your boyfriend looked down at you as you sat on the bed. He was eerily calm as he said the vague threat.

“Joonie…” you sighed. “I-I don’t want to leave you but… but I just need some space.”

“I’m your boyfriend. Why would you need space?” He asked with a raised brow.

“You’re just a little too… possessive…” you said, looking down.

“What makes you say that?” Namjoon asked while standing over you. He was good at making you feel small.

“I-… well… when I’m with my friends you-…”

“Oh your friends?” He interrupted. “The ones that speak ill of you.”

“What? No—…”

“They’re not your friends, babygirl.” He said while shaking his head. “They talk bad about you all the time.”

“No they-…”

“They say, oh y/n is so stupid… and what a dumb slut…” Namjoon tried mimicking their voices and he can see that the words were affecting you.

“Joonie-…”

“And then! F/n tried sleeping with me.”

“What?!”

“Yeah and you know what I did?” Namjoon said with a smirk as he loomed over you. “Well… I thought maybe I’ll let her…”

Your heart was racing as he suddenly pinned you to the bed and got close to your ear.

“She wanted me to fuck her so bad…” he said with a smirk. “She wanted me to fuck her little pussy over and over and over….”

A tear rolled down your cheek before he lightly rubbed you over your shorts. You gasped at the feeling.

“Fake friend, am I right?” He chuckled as he unzipped your shorts and rubbed you over your panties.

“I could’ve fucked your friend and she would’ve kept it from you…”

You whined as he moved your underwear to the side to rub your bare clit.

“I could’ve fallen for her. I could leave you… all because of those fake friends you have.”

“J-joonie…” you moaned.

“See, you could leave at any point… but who would you go to? You’re friends? They hate you.”

More tears rolled down your cheeks as he rubbed you some more.

“They’d stab you in the back then leave you. Just like everyone else in your pathetic life.” He said bluntly before removing his hand from your pants.

You whimpered as your impending orgasm was denied and you sat up.

“Then you’d come running back to me or I’ll just find you…” He a devious smile as he knew these words were getting to you. “You’re so easy to track.”

You were feeling a mix of sad, hurt and fear. Would that really happen if you left? Why did your friends hate you so much? Why would she try getting with your boyfriend? Who would take care of you? Who would love you?

“Babygirl, I would track you down to the ends of the earth…” Namjoon said as he held your chin up up to look at him. “That’s how much I love you.”

A sense of relief hit you. He loves you! Maybe you were just overthinking things. He’s not possessive, just a protective boyfriend. The light threat was just his love, of course!

Namjoon smiled at you as he leaned in to kiss you and another tear rolled down your cheek as you kissed him back.

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jeonbunnie · 8 months

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promises

pairing: reader x namjoon

summary: marriage life with namjoon hasn’t been the same lately. he’s been cold and distant, always whispering on the phone. and you can’t help but notice…

genre: angst, drama, choose your own adventure,

content/warnings: established relationship; married!au; idol!namjoon; cheating/infidelity; implied sex; eventual smut; explicit sex

soundtrack: lemonade by beyoncé

word count: 375

Leave Him

When Namjoon wakes up the next morning–you’re not by his side.

At first, Namjoon is too tired to comprehend what it means to not feel your warmth pressed up against him. But as soon as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, he realized he was waking from a dream into a nightmare.

You weren’t by his side.

On his bedside table something glinted in the dark. And when his eyes adjusted to the moonlight, he noticed the silver ring set with the diamonds on your wedding band, the one that used to belong on your finger and a note.

Just like that everything stopped. Namjoon couldn't breathe, couldn't think as he reached for the paper with your handwriting on it.

It’s over, Namjoon.

Three little words and his whole word collapsed.

No, no, no.

Namjoon started to panic. Rushing out of bed, he slid on a t-shirt and sweats to search for you. He looks for you everywhere. In the bathroom. In the hallway. Gone. He ran downstairs, fast. Heart full of dread. But still looking, still hoping.

You weren’t in the living room.

Or in the kitchen.

Your purse and your keys on the counter were gone, too. Not even your car was parked out front.

You are nowhere to be found. You’re gone.

Gone, gone, gone.

And it was all his fault.

Namjoon dropped onto the couch and pressed his hands to his eyes tight. So tight that he saw flashes of color, but even that didn’t stop the tears from stinging his eyes. Namjoon knew he was undeserving of you. That this was the punishment he deserved for hurting you. He wished you knew how sorry he was. The regret that he felt.

He was not the same man who cheated on you, who made those bad choices. That man was a coward who chose to run from his marriage instead of towards it. He was afraid to come to you then, and now, now that was all he wanted. How he wished he didn’t hurt you. That you knew how much he wanted this marriage. He’d give anything for it. But that was all over now...Getting you back was impossible.

He’d lost the love of his life.

#bts fic #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #namjoon fic #namjoon scenarios #bts fanfic #fic: promises #Poc reader #songfic #my fics.🍪

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anonnie-in-wonderland · 2 years

Text

Call Me Crazy

Rating: T

Word Count: 6.7k

Warning(s): briefly implied racism, Y/N experiences paranoid thoughts, panic attacks, head injury

Summary: When Y/N gets her hands on the newest Samsung phone, she thinks at most she’ll get a little clout with her friends and fewer dropped calls. A direct portal to BTS? Not so much.

Tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | poly| FM!POC!reader

Ch.1 Ch.2: Star-Crushed

A/N: Hello, hello! Crashing in from life as a college student (why do I keep doing this omg) to provide another update! 😌 Feels like the true upturning of poor Y/N’s orderly life starts here. I also feel like OT7 fics haven’t been updated as much lately so this is my humble contribution. 🙇🏽‍♀️ I had so much fun with this chapter! So please feel free to tell me what you think? 🥺

Some habits were hard to shake. So despite having the day off, she woke up at seven sharp. Rolling over to squint across the room and find Binna still sleeping, she proceeded to shuffle out of bed.

Thoughts of how to spend her day floated vaguely through her head as she shut the bathroom door behind her.

People would be surprised, she imagined, to find that she didn’t plan every minute of every day—she just planned the productive hours of most days.

In high school, Y/N had been voted most likely to become a CEO before age thirty, and there were far worse superlatives to be associated with.

Maybe there was even some truth to that one, but it was coincidental. She was now studying business with every intention of climbing the corporate ladder to the very top.

There had never been a doubt about how she would go about achieving her goals, either. Y/N was focused, level-headed and disciplined—according to teachers past and present.

But a small feeling of dissatisfaction she just couldn’t quash kept surfacing as of late. Somewhere along the line friends; family, maybe even classmates, professors and acquaintances, had come to think of her as predictable.

No, they didn’t phrase it in that way exactly, but it couldn’t be much more obvious. Spontaneity was not her strong suit, admittedly. But somehow the fact that people thought she was chained to routine and sameness made her feel…pathetic.

It was no matter, though. Y/N endeavored to do what she always did to stave off self-pity. It had worked for years and it was unlikely to fail her now. She would seize the day, and fall into productivity. Of the relaxing sort, of course.

In record time, she had showered, groomed and dressed. Since it was her day off, she likely could have made do walking around in sweats and a t-shirt (not that she owned many casual articles of clothing), but dressing to impress at all times was a mantra she had lived by since starting university.

Y/N put on a pressed blouse with a warm, woolen cardigan and starched slacks. Her slip on flats were casual enough to make up for it, plus comfortable.

As she stood and adjusted the collar of her shirt so that it overlaid perfectly on her cardigan, Binna lifted her head, hair messy and voice a groggy whisper. “Thought you were off?”

“I am.” Y/N began to search for her bag, passing her new phone and plucking it from the charger.

“Dressed like that?” A prickle of hesitation jabbed its way in as she paused to stare down at herself.

“Why not?” She asked, the tiniest bit of insecurity seeping into her tone.

“That’s our Y/Nie.” Binna smiled sleepily, her lips shiny from the bit of drool on her mouth. “Always prepared.” Then she threw her head back into her pillow, and light snores promptly followed.

Y/N couldn’t help but chuckle. Binna would be in for a rude awakening when her alarm clock went off in fifteen minutes. But, she supposed for the time being the poor girl could enjoy that extra fifteen minutes of blissed out sleep. She seemed to need it.

Y/N was quiet as she exited their bedroom, feet silent in the carpeted hall on her way into their utility kitchen. Figuring Binna wouldn’t want much when she got up, just some toast and cereal, she decided it was okay to focus on fixing her usual: an egg white omelette with two shakes of pepper, some low-fat vanilla yogurt and granola, and a black coffee with extra creamer. While she brought out the pan and got the stove ready, Y/N flitted back and forth between her breakfast items and the coffee machine. Binna had brought it with her when she’d moved in, but Y/N probably got more use out of it than its owner.

The eggs sizzled in the pan as she cracked the shells and separated them from their yolks, the coffee machine’s gentle hum the perfect background noise. It wasn’t too loud or too jarring, which gave her time to think. Normally, about class work or her internship, but this was a day off Y/N reminded herself. So maybe something like yoga at the park instead? Hmm…but she wasn’t really dressed for that.

The coffee machine chimed twice, signifying her fresh brewed bliss was ready, and Y/N wasted no time pouring herself a steaming cup. The creamer was added in short order, and while it cooled enough to be drinkable, she finished neatly folding her omelet and stirring granola into her yogurt.

Sitting down with her foodstuffs, she began digging in, the sound of the spoon touching the bottom of the plastic cup, or the fork clinking against the plate as she ate her omelet piece by piece the only noises in the apartment. Some might find a silent breakfast lonely , but Y/N appreciated the way in which being alone with her thoughts allowed her to process things.

After she had lost her parents, people always saw her as quiet and a little intense, oddly put together for a recently orphaned child. Her aunt and uncle had been at a loss at first, seemingly trying to piece together how to approach talking to her. It had taken some rocky attempts, awkward small talk that petered into stuffy silences, but they had eventually all learned how to coexist.

Actually, maybe she should call them. It had been a while, hadn’t it? She reached for her phone, shiny and new, sitting on the table. It displayed the time as she dragged it closer with one finger, having to momentarily pause eating to flip it open.

Nice compact design, smooth interface, and lots of unexplored features. Y/N had to reluctantly admit…she was impressed. She still had to transfer all her contacts into it though. If she were like most college students her age, she would be pulling her hair out, her contacts lost in a tragic spill. Being ‘old-fashioned’ had its benefits, she thought a bit smugly. Later on today she could put all the contacts she had copied down into the notepad where she kept numbers into her phone.

Y/N began thinking about what else people normally did upon purchasing a new cell. Spam text everyone apologetically about how their phone number had changed? Maybe later.

The conversation in the car on their way back from the phone store came to mind. “Since you’ve finally joined everybody in the twenty-first century, you should download some apps!” Binna had suggested. “They come in really handy.”

Apps, huh? Well, Y/N had never been much for them, aside from keeping an eye on the world of app development—the creator of the next Twitter might be out there, a business partner waiting to be snatched up—but using them herself would be a first.

“I’ve got the time,” she reasoned. “I’ll just see what all the fuss is about.”

Five minutes tops. That’s all the time she would devote to scrolling the app store.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There was a crick in her neck and her back ached. She was also pretty sure Binna may have been through with her shower, considering she could faintly hear the blow dryer going from down the hall.

Wow. She’d really spent nearly thirty-five minutes looking at apps. But, in her defense, no one told her about the sheer number of them! If Y/N had known there was a pocket schedule and planner app, she may have gotten on board sooner.

Downloading that one and several more she saw that might be helpful, Y/N wiggled. She was already excited to begin using them, reading the reviews as she tidied the kitchen until the only trace of her breakfast was the pan she had used scraped and in the sink, ready to be washed later.

Satisfied, she called out a goodbye to Binna, who came bursting from the bedroom, fully dressed and fixing her hair into buns. “Heading out?” She asked, slinging her messenger bag higher on her shoulder. “Let’s walk together.”

“You don’t even know if I’m headed the same way.” Y/N snickered, “And don’t you want breakfast? You know you’re no good at thinking on an empty stomach, and you’ve got that presentation right before lunch.”

“Y/N!” Binna pouted, “Omo, such a mother hen. I’ll be fine. I can get a breakfast bagel at the cafe.”

“The line’s really long this time of day,” Y/N pointed out.

“It’ll be fine!” Binna repeated, throwing her hands up, “I still want to walk with you.”

“Okaaay,” Y/N opened the door and stepped aside, waiting expectantly. “Lead the way.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The smell of egg and cheese wafted enticingly through the air, Y/N glancing over to find her friend happily munching her breakfast sandwich, perfectly in step with her.

It was a gorgeous, mild fall day out. Leaves were getting that nice autumnal tone, and despite the swift changing of seasons, the school’s lawn was as bright green as ever—thanks to the help of artificial means of course.

Y/N was surprised that the little spot on campus that only stayed open until noon and served Western breakfast foods didn’t have a longer line.

There were more than thirty thousand students attending Korea University, and it felt like over half of them were scurrying everywhere at all times of the day and night.

Binna looked up in time to see her staring, chewing and swallowing the bite in her mouth, then offering the rest to her. “Want some?” she offered.

“I’ve already eaten breakfast,” Y/N smiled gently, lightly pushing Binna’s arm down to keep the avocado sauce on the breakfast sandwich from spilling onto her cardigan. “Thanks though.”

“But Y/N,” Binna whined, taking another big bite, “You always have such a small breakfast. It’s the most important meal of the day for a reason!” Spoken like a pre-med student, Y/N mused.

She could just see Binna’s future office, set up to be child-friendly with charts about nutrition depicting smiling vegetables and fruits on the walls.

“Yes, yes eomma, I know.”

Taking another bite of her food, Binna huffed, “Fine. But just eat a decent meal later, okay? You’re off today so there’s no reason for you to be skipping lunch.”

“Now who’s the mother hen?” Y/N tutted, pulling out her phone and putting in a reminder for a twenty minute lunch break. “There. I did it. Happy?”

She was met with silence, which was always unusual for Binna. Worriedly, she turned to her friend, only to find a very sly smile on her lips (and a bit of egg and avocado sauce in the corner of her mouth). “What’s that look for?”

Binna tittered, shrugging as if to say ‘oh nothing, nothing…! Except…’

“…You like it, don’t you?”

“Huh?”

“You like your new phone.” She clarified. “You were fiddling with it last night when I went to bed, and you were never attached to your old one like that.” Binna finished off her sandwich, eyes narrowed disbelievingly. “Last week you told me playing with my phone before bed would cause me to wake up unrested.”

“Well it will.” Y/N maintained matter-of-factly, “It disrupts your brain’s ability to find its proper circadian rhythm. Studies prove that.”

“Right, sure,” Binna scoffed, “And suddenly you’re willing to risk it because…what, you discovered technology can actually be fun and not just for convenience?”

“Bin, please. It’s just a phone.” To prove her point, Y/N promptly closed the device and stuck it in her pocket.

“It’s not just any phone,” Binna exclaimed, crumpling her sandwich wrapper up and throwing it away as they passed a trash can. She made the shot from about ten feet away, and two boys that had been sitting nearby on the grass saw it and cheered dramatically like their favorite team had scored a goal.

Binna played along, posing cutely and giving a thumbs up. Y/N rolled her eyes. Sports fanatics. “Like I was saying,” Bin continued, smoothing her beige sweater vest into place. “Y/N you got the Galaxy Z Flip 4: Army Edition.” She whispered conspiratorially, glancing around as if someone might overhear. “I didn’t even know that phone actually existed until yesterday.”

Ah yes, yesterday. Where Y/N’s simple quest for a new phone had taken an unexpected turn.

Suk-kyu slunk from the store’s stockroom, while Y/N waited patiently with her friends in the lobby. He was clutching a box to his chest as if was some precious national treasure. Bemused, Y/N watched him set it down on the table with reverence and lift the lid. “I know you chose another color, but you seem like a very discerning customer. So I wanted to offer you this instead.”

The lid came up fully and Binna squealed, hopping in place, “Oh! My! Goodness!”

Y/N turned to Chin-Mae for clarity, since Binna was currently occupied gushing over the phone, but he shrugged, as clueless as she was. “This can’t be what I think it is!”

“A Galaxy Z 4?” Chin-Mae drawled.

“No, no, no!” Binna waved him off, “I mean well, yes. But look at the colors; that’s the Army Edition! I thought it was just a rumor.” The phone was a sleek chrome gray on one side and white on the other, but otherwise appeared identical to the other Galaxy Z’s Suk-kyu had shown them.

“It is, as far as everyone else knows.” Suk-kyu winked. “There are seven colors available, our BTS editions. The Army edition is the rumored eighth color, very exclusively available right now. Won’t be on the market for a while. So what do you say? Would you like this one?”

“Say yes, Y/N!” Binna shook her arm. “Say yes. Oh gosh, now I wish I needed a new phone—I’m so jealous!”

“I…” Y/N tried to concentrate as she continued to get shaken and her teeth clicked. “I don’t really think I get it. I mean it’s a rare color, right? Why not save that for a true fan who’d appreciate it more?”

Suk-kyu only smiled, a twinkle in his eyes. “I think the person who’d appreciate this phone the most is already standing in front of me.”

And so, somewhat reluctantly, Y/N had taken the phone. The ultra-rare Army Edition that Binna told her fans would kill for. “I don’t know why I even let that kooky salesman talk me into buying it. If it’s as big a commodity as you say it is, I could get robbed for having it.”

It wasn’t unheard of. Being a business major, Y/N had heard many times about what happened when hot items were in short supply and high demand.

People did desperate things to own rarities. She remembered a case that happened not far from her when she lived in America, someone being attacked and stabbed over a pair of limited edition shoes.

“No way,” Binna said, though there was a touch of concern in her eyes. “You’ll probably get lots of compliments—oh!”

“Binna!” They spotted a group of three girls waving at her friend, other pre-med students that Binna liked to study with. “Yo, you ready for that presentation?”

“Totally!” She fist pumped. “I’m fueled up and ready to go.”

“Oh, hello Y/N-ssi,” Binna’s unnie greeted politely. Choi Ji-Hye was like the calm, reliable upperclassmen in a drama, so Y/N totally understood why Binna looked up to her so much.

Ji-Hye was also rumored to be from a very affluent family. Not that it was surprising. Plenty of students attending one of the country’s top schools came from wealth.

But Ji-Hye had the looks, background and demeanor that one would associate with the traditional heiress.

Today, she was wearing a maroon sweater vest— something that her friend looked ready to swoon over when she noticed—and pressed short sleeved blouse paired with slacks similar to Y/N’s own.

Her auburn red hair was pin straight as usual, her bangs cut at a very precise length that didn’t hide her lovely arched eyebrows. When she smiled a little, everyone saw the deep dimple in her right cheek.

“Good morning, sunbaenim.” Y/N returned.

“You could call me unnie, too, if you wanted.” Ji-Hye said, and some of the stiffness in the air dropped. While Ji-Hye was always friendly towards her, she got the sense that Binna’s other pre-med friends didn’t care for her much.

Not that she would bring it up to her bubbly friend, who enjoyed seeing all her associates get along and thought strangers were just friends you hadn’t met. Oh, to be that naive.

“I can drop the honorific from sunbae,” Y/N bargained as a compromise.

“Deal,” Ji-Hye agreed, “We’re all going to our first lecture, but you should join us for lunch.” Ah yes, Ji-Hye was a TA in Binna’s first class.

“That would be lovely,” Y/N discreetly glanced at the two antsy med students behind Ji-Hye, likely hoping she would say no. “But it may have to be some other day. I have some assignments to catch up on that may cut into my lunch hour. I wouldn’t want you waiting for me,”

She ignored Binna’s very skeptical expression as Ji-Hye nodded in understanding. “That’s unfortunate. I do hope you take breaks as needed. Binna’s always speaking highly of your diligence, but overworking is a fast track to illness.”

“I understand, sunbae.” She bowed. “Good luck on your presentation today, Bin.”

“See you later, Y/N!” Binna waved, being tugged along by one of the other girls.

Y/N expelled the breath she’d been holding as they left, though she could hear one of the girls, Ha-Eun, whispering loudly. “Is she always stiff and intense like that?”

“Y/N’s really great. You just don’t know her,” Binna immediately defended.

Y/N felt warm inside over her loyalty.

“And whose fault is that?” The other girl giggled. Y/N thought her name might have been Iseul or something, which she only remembered because Binna had gushed about her also being an Army. “She seems to like you, but from what I see, keeps to herself. I bet she turned down unnie’s invitation for no reason.”

Before Binna could voice a retort, Ji-Hye’s calm voice cut in. “That’s uncharitable to assume the worst of others, Iseul. I’m sure Y/N has her reasons.”

They got too far to hear the rest of the conversation after that, not that Y/N was really interested in overhearing more. She was very aware that people had a lot of preconceived notions about her.

It was one of the many things she had learned to tune out upon returning to Korea at the end of high school. People had assumed she was a foreigner and treated her accordingly, whispering this speculation or that.

It was true her father had been American, and she’d inherited his complexion and hair texture, which brought its own set of… problems at times.

Still, Y/N had decided to come back to Korea and go to the college she had always told her mother she wanted to attend, her alma mater.

She wanted to reconnect with her Korean heritage too. She just never thought about how different it would all be when she was seeing through a lens that was no longer that of an oblivious child.

Regardless, it was her day off, and flaky attitudes be damned, Y/N wasn’t about to let that get her down. She was going to be productive and enjoy herself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

This was the worst possible time to be in proximity to someone else’s clumsiness.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry!” Kang Myeong looked very close to falling to his knees as he whimpered in the face of the fire in Y/N’s eyes.

She stared at the ugly blot of ssamjang on her blazer, nose crinkled. This was going to be the end of her. Her colleague’s one act of clumsiness was going to sink her career before it started.

The president and CEO of LG Electronics, one of the largest companies in the country, would be walking in any minute.

It was the perfect opportunity for networking, the only real reason she had agreed to attend her internship’s party in honor of its hard-working students—Binna, Min Su and Chin-Mae may have also begged her to attend and actually mingle like a normal person.

Always able to sniff out a problem from a mile away, her internship supervisor hurried over, his eyes wide behind his spectacles. “Oh, what happened there?” He frowned.

“It was my fault,” Myeong confessed instantly. “Y/N, I…I’m so sorry. I had no idea you were right there when I turned around.”

Her greedy coworker had made a beeline for the refreshments and she just so happened to be standing near it, talking to one of her other internship colleagues when disaster struck.

“We’ve been over that.” She grumbled, not in a forgiving mood at present. She didn’t even attempt to wipe it out. If she did, that would undoubtedly make it worse.

Mr. Hong pulled something out of his pocket, a key. He held it out on the tip of his finger and Y/N watched the small silver key swing back and forth as he spoke. “Here, use this and go to the presidential bathroom down the hall. Try to get it out before Mr. Koo arrives.”

Nodding in thanks, Y/N wasted no time, ignoring Myeong as he continued to grovel. She had a mission and it was saving her future career! No one was going to take her seriously with a sauce stain on her front.

Mr. Koo would take one look and write her off as a joke. And if one of the most powerful businessmen in the country thought that way, no one else was going to take a chance on her.

It was rare, hadn’t happened in years, actually. But by the time she had fumbled with the key and charged into the extremely elegant bathroom, her throat felt cottony and her head was spinning. Y/N staggered over to the sink, seeing double as she looked into the mirror.

No one knew about her panic attacks. Not her aunt and uncle, and not Binna and Chin-Mae. She forced them down, as much as she was able. Hiding behind the projection of control she wanted others to see until she believed it herself.

Yes, yes she had everything under control. Her hands shook as she fought to turn on the sink, only to realize it was motion activated. Shoving her hands beneath the faucet, it lit up and came to life.

Y/N took the time to dab her eyes, wet a paper towel and press it firmly to her thudding pulse before she even tackled the sauce on her jacket.

Her teeth sank hard into her bottom lip, before she thought about how poorly it would be taken if she walked back into the party with a bloody lip—or worse, had to reapply her lipstick and get the stain off her teeth.

That caused her to let her lip go, blinking rapidly and wiping small, frustrated tears from her eyes. “L/N Y/N,” she breathed, staring herself down hard in the mirror. “You will be fine. Because you always are. Get back out there and blow them away.”

Gasping, she reached for her phone to check the time. How much time did she have before Mr.Koo arrived?! What if he was already in there? Pushing the device back into her blazer again, Y/N went to check her face in the mirror one last time.

Instead of slightly puffy eyes or a determined grimace, what she saw had her jaw dropping. Was that…was that another room?!

Whipping her head around, Y/N surveyed the lavish bathroom behind her, and didn’t see anything remotely identical to what was in the mirror. Whoa. She rubbed her eyes harshly.

Whoa.

It had been about a week since that time she had hallucinated a man’s face in place of her own while brushing her teeth. Since then, she had chalked it up to not enough sleep and tightly wound nerves from all the deadlines she was trying to meet.

This was probably the same thing. She was in a highly stressful situation, and she was seeing things. Although, it was a little concerning that no matter how many times she dabbed at her eyes and blinked, the scene didn’t change.

Frustrated, Y/N stepped back, squinted, then moved closer again. Against her better judgement, she leaned further into the mirror, intending to skim the glass with her fingertip, to prove to herself she was just a little tired.

Until she was overcome by the strongest sensation of vertigo she had ever felt, head falling forward as if it was full of lead. When it cleared, and she felt able to pick her head up, the practical, ever logical thinking Y/N was unprepared for what she saw.

Everywhere, absolutely everywhere, was a vast, rippling room of nothing. It was like being trapped inside a drop of mercury, another impossibility. Y/N waved a hand in front of her face, and a cool, liquid sensation passed through her fingers, although nothing was on them.

“Hello?” She called, trying not to grow frantic. “Where the hell is this?” She took a tentative step, finding it was a bit difficult to move forward but not impossible. “Uh…what did I eat in the last twenty four hours?”

Was it an allergic reaction? Yeah right. She quickly dismissed the notion on account of very few allergic reactions she could think of causing hallucinogenic effects.

Her straining ears caught sound to her right, and she moved forward, calling out again. Still no response, but the sound got a little bit clearer.

It probably wasn’t the day to be wearing pumps, but damnit, it’s not like she counted on this to happen. Whatever was happening…

Y/N stopped, but not for lack of trying to move forward, but because there was…an invisible wall there. A clear one, in which she could now see the same room as before.

An empty dance studio. The strains of sound she’d picked up had been music. Classical music, more precisely. That was all she really had time to discern before the door opened, someone walking in.

A lone person, a young man maybe slightly older than her. He shut the door behind him and set down his bag. She watched him look around, brow furrowing as he stopped to listen to the music playing.

Tchaikovsky’s The Sleeping Beauty had just begun, a popular song at ballet recitals. He seemed confused to hear it, making Y/N wonder if he wasn’t a ballet dancer at all. There was also something about him she almost wanted to say was familiar, but she couldn’t place what.

Looking around at both sides of the room as though his reflection would rat him out, the young man slowly began to fall into a few experimental steps, growing more charged and confident as the song continued.

Y/N watched, stunned. Forgetting all about what had been going on before, how she had come to even be here, she remained hidden and spellbound, the handsome man’s fluid control of his body and contemporary dance moves putting her soul at ease.

It was like each step he took, each twirl and leap smoothed down the frayed edges inside that had caused her anxiety to begin creeping in. She watched in rapt attention as he commanded the space with her, his only audience.

At one point, his dancing brought him closer to Y/N’s side of the mirror. He didn’t seem to notice anything amiss at all, didn’t seem to feel her presence there.

His shiny hair caught the light when he spun, and not for the first time, Y/N had the tugging knowledge just out of reach.

She knew him from somewhere… Pressing ever closer against the surface, she was able to see every line of his solid physique, the hours of work he had put into training his body evident.

The song had reached its crescendo, and he was still going strong, hardly even sweating. Y/N was awed, face pressed to the cool, invisible glass in an undignified manner—lipstick stains be damned.

Perhaps because she had suspended her disbelief so much already, she was not expecting reality to very literally come crashing back in. Y/N let out an abrupt scream when the barrier suddenly gave way, and she found herself falling right through, toppling into him.

He hardly had time to turn before they were crashing together, and then laying in a heap on the floor. There was a very concerning crack as his head met the unforgiving wood.

Temporarily putting aside her bemusement and astonishment, Y/N swallowed down the horrified yelp in her throat. The man who had been practicing such a graceful technique just a minute ago was sprawled underneath her, having taken the brunt of the fall.

His eyes were squinted and unfocused, and Y/N’s heart accelerated at the thought of how hard he must have hit his head.

Quickly jumping back, her stockings catching on the polished wood floors at the friction, she inspected him, phone gripped tightly and uselessly in her sweating palm. It only vaguely dawned on her that she had never let it go.

Now, Y/N let it tumble to the floor with a clatter, far past caring if that did any damage. Maybe that was for the best…it went against absolutely every logical thought she had as an aspiring businesswoman but there was something to be said about correlation and causation.

When she had briefly hallucinated in the bathroom that night, and during…whatever was happening now, she had the phone nearby. Both times. Was that…really a coincidence?

She had scoffed over the conspiracy theorists online every time a new 5G phone model was released that would proclaim they could control thoughts and cause illnesses. But what if this was a psychotic break?

The dropped device buzzed an inch or two across the floor, Y/N seeing a message from Binna. Oh yeah…Binna.

Her dear friend and roommate had been texting her a lot lately. According to her, if she was going to posssess an Army phone, she might as well actually become an Army.

Not that Y/N had taken that seriously, or had much time to actually look at what Binna had been sending. Her nerves were far too thin in the days leading up to the party.

It was the opportunity of a lifetime, and all her time not spent working on school assignments was spent tirelessly rehearsing what she would say to Mr.Koo if she got the chance to talk to him.

For the first time in a while, Y/N actually read Binna’s messages.

—Okay last one! I know you said no more but I couldn’t resist and he just looks so good here!

The picture popped up without warning, a beautiful man with blood red hair, propped up on his side in a white, nearly translucent button-up.

There was a sliver of skin visible between the bottom and the waistline of his pants, and he looked at the camera with a startling smolder, accentuated by the coy half-smile on his full red lips and the immaculately applied eyeliner he was wearing.

Y/N’s throat went dry, life flashing before her eyes as she whipped her head back down to the person still lying unnaturally still on the floor. It was…it was the same guy!

The hair color was different—a moonlight silver now—and he was in a plain t-shirt and some loose joggers, but it was undoubtedly the same man Binna wanted her to swoon over.

That meant one thing.

“BTS…” Y/N whispered under her breath. Suddenly he looked frighteningly familiar. The model looks, the style in those practiced dance moves. How couldn’t she see it earlier?

Yeah this was definitely one of Binna’s BTS boys, who beamed down at them from the poster in their dorm room. Forgetting her phone, Y/N clambered closer, wondering if she should check for a pulse, but also afraid to touch him in case it brought him further harm.

“Please…” she licked her bottom lip, “Do me a favor…Jimin.” Thanks to all of Binna’s gushing and coaching she was fairly certain that was his name. “Don’t be dead, or seriously injured. Don’t be anything that could get the book thrown at me in a court of law.”

Assaulting an idol. And not just any idol, but one of the ones that belonged to a group that was practically the nation’s national treasure. Her career would be flushed. Oh, and the rabid fans out for her blood would never let her know peace.

“Hyung…?” He muttered, and Y/N pushed down any indignation that cropped up at the thought of being mistaken for someone’s hyung.

“Okay, you’re talking. Good.” she sighed. “I mean not good, but…not bad. Damnit, I should call emergency services. For all I know you could be concussed.”

Jimin blinked drowsily at her. Shit, how hard did she make him hit his head? Shit, shit! “It’s not the worst hallucination in the world. At least I’m imagining someone pretty.”

Y/N’s jaw dropped, she stammered for a response and came up short. Was he…flirting?! At a time like this? His head might be broken and she might be on her way to ten years behind bars and he was flirting?!

The flustered college student could feel her cheeks redden, irritation flaring up inside. If he wasn’t already hurt she might just be tempted to ignore the difference in their statuses and smack him upside the head.

“You—”

Y/N stilled, hearing broken pieces of conversation from just outside the door. No, no, no! Witnesses to her crime! They were going to take one look at the downed dancer and assume the worst.

Either that she had attacked him or that she was there for…a creepier reason. Binna had told her about sasaeng attacks being a serious problem for popular idols. No one was going to believe she didn’t know how she’d gotten there.

Although Jimin was probably going to be fine, now that people who could help him had arrived, Y/N did feel guilty just leaving him there. It was her fault, sort of.

She had precious seconds, and every racing tick of her heart knew it. Whoever was coming into the studio were chatting outside the door, but who knew how long that’d last.

Her uncle and aunt had always praised her for being quick on her feet, and this was the worst time to prove them wrong. ‘This is crazy,’ Y/N’s spinning head protested. ‘I fell through a mirror into an idol’s dance studio and now I might be going to jail, unless—’

She hesitated only slightly, figuring the impossible had proved possible so far. The crazy could continue until she woke up from this mental breakdown she was having, and then she would start searching for the nearest qualified therapist to examine her. At best, she was right, and at worst she was about to be carted off to the hospital, then jail.

Sucking in and holding a deep breath, Y/N charged at the mirrored wall as fast as sensible pumps would allow, fully prepared for the pain of smacking into it face first.

There was a startled moment of realization, and then deep relief when she tumbled through the glass, which rippled coolly like she was breaking the surface of a quiet lake.

Y/N turned, silently witnessing the studio door open at that moment, revealing another young man in sweats. He had short, bouncy russet brown hair, his bangs parting in the middle.

He spoke to whoever was standing out in the hall one more time, something about some changes to a choreography routine they were trying out. The door closed, and Y/N watched his eyes fall to the floor, noticing Jimin for the first time.

“Jimin?” He called, sprinting over and sinking to his knees at the answering groan. “What’s wrong? What happened?” Y/N knew she should bolt while she could, guilt a tight ball in her chest. But she only stood there in Mirror Land as the other man tried to get Jimin to tell him what was wrong.

‘I fell out of the mirror and plowed him over.’ she thought, wincing.

“Hobi-hyung, I’m okay. I just tripped…” he said softly. What a beautiful speaking voice, Y/N mused. It was easy on the ears, even when it sounded strained.

Hobi…Hobi…Binna had said that was someone’s nickname. If he was Hobi then that must have meant his stage name was J-Hope. ‘Er, what’s his real name again? …Hyun…Hoseok?’

Whipping out a phone, his hyung frowned a little. “Hard enough to hurt yourself? Can you get up?” Jimin began righting himself, albeit slowly, and Hoseok assisted, arm bracing him around the shoulders. “I’m going to tell the staff you’re injured and need to be examined.”

“But—”

“Nope,” Hobi shook his head, phone to his ear now. “There’s no point practicing choreo if you’re not at your best anyway.” He turned his attention to speaking to whoever had picked up his call, explaining that they had an accident in the studio. “Yeah, he’s awake, but pretty dazed.”

There was a pause, and J-Hope tilted his head, staring at Jimin thoughtfully. “Did you hit your head?”

“Mm…”

“It looks like it.” Hoseok relayed, and Y/N bit her lip, anxiety picking back up. ‘How am I supposed to tell Binna I met one of her favorite idols and broke him?’

Jimin was sitting up on his own now, hands on the floor and legs crossed. Hoseok removed his arm from his friend’s shoulder and began to gently massage his head.

“Hyung,” Jimin whined, leaning away from the touch. “Careful, it’s tender.”

“You’ve got a bump the size of a baseball.” The older male informed him matter-of-factly. “I’d be surprised if it wasn’t.”

“What happened to the girl?” Jimin asked abruptly.

Y/N felt her hands start to tremble. Why was she even still hanging around? This was her opportunity!

Oh yeah, because she wanted to be sure the young man whose head had gotten bonked would be okay. Damn guilt.

“Girl?” Hoseok gave him a scrutinizing look, not at all like the wide, energetic smile he wore in Binna’s poster. “Jiminie…what girl?”

The silver-haired idol shrugged helplessly. “The one who knocked me down. I think…”

“Somebody knocked you down?” Hoseok asked sharply. “Was it a staffer?”

“I don’t know. It happened so fast. She wasn’t familiar...”

“Okay,” The older idol said slowly. “After we make sure you’re okay we’ll get security to check the cameras.”

The cameras?! Shit, so she wasn’t safe after all! Oblivious to her rising woe, Hoseok continued, “Well, I think you’re probably concussed, so no practice for you.”

His eyes drifted away from Jimin for the first time since entering the room, and that split second was all it took for their gazes to lock.

Y/N let out a wordless yell, flailing back. The sound of running water filled her ears, and she picked her head up to find her own reflection.

She was clutching the edge of the same modern sink she was admiring before, standing in the same private bathroom. Laying innocently near the right handle was her phone.

#bts fanfic #call me crazy #ot7 bangtan #ot7xreader #yoongixreader #namjoon x reader #jungkook x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #seokjin x reader #poc!reader #bts x reader #poly!bts x reader

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lovecoree · 1 year

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𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐒 — 𝐁𝐓𝐒

pair: bts x short blackfem!reader

synopsis: head canons of being with BTS members.

warning: reader is black coded, reader uses she/her prns, reader have Trinidad and tabago Caribbean roots, let me know if I miss anything!

a/n: requested by @lelewright1234

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐊𝐉𝐈𝐍

obsessed with your cooking. I’m talking about the best food he ever had in his life. Jin loves trying different foods. When it come to you cooking for him he’s always thankful and loves the food. “I can’t wait to eat your delicious food babe!”

You and seokjin have been dating for 6 months and he’s already thinking about popping the question.

The location is beautiful. Nice sunset view, the bright beautiful ocean, the sand that feels nice on your toes as he gets down on one knee, opening up the black velvet box revealing the big diamond rock.

It was beautiful and perfect.

Of course you said yes. Being with him was amazing and he could say the same.

Enjoying being newlyweds as y’all both explore each other’s culture is beautiful and fun and would bring so much happy memories.

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐉𝐎𝐎𝐍

Married for three years and have one daughter.

Namjoon taking pictures and videos of you and your four year old daughter dancing to machel Montano songs. Smiling as you and your daughter laugh together.

Namjoon trying to figure out how to fix y’all daughters hair for school.

“Princess you have beautiful hair.”

You watched as Namjoon put y’all daughters hair into two big bush pigtails perfectly.

“Not bad.” You smiled. “Learned from the best.” He smiled kissing you on the lips.

𝐌𝐈𝐍 𝐘𝐎𝐎𝐍𝐆𝐈

Helps you out around the house making sure to tease you as you waddle your way into the kitchen.

You’re five months pregnant and you’re expecting a baby boy!

You pout as you try your best to grab a cup from the cabinet, Yoongi comes up behind you grabbing your favorite cup and sitting it on the counter, kissing your cheek he smiled while rubbing your baby bump.

“My short baby.” Your pout only made him tease you more.

“Ok, make your own food tonight.” Your thick accent coming out whenever your mood swings kick in.

Yoongi immediately stops laughing and try his best to convince you to let him eat your amazing food.

“Ok baby I’m sorry.”

𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐄𝐎𝐊

loves..I mean LOVES the carnivals.

He’s so mesmerized by the way you dance, smiling as you dance to the beat. Your red costume complimenting your skin great, your hair nicely done. You are beautiful!

He couldn’t take his eyes off of you the whole night.

You send him a sly wink when you got closer, moving your hips as he tries to catch his breath.

You are even more happy to teach him how to dance to your music when he ask you once y’all both got home.

Him giving you a nice massage after you change out of your costume and wrapped up your hair.

“You were amazing baby, I can’t wait to see you perform again.”

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐊 𝐉𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐍

Been married for two years and still gets shy seeing you in your costumes for the festivals you attend.

You find it cute as he tries his best to look at your eyes the whole time.

Once alone he’s not afraid to roam his hands on your body.

“You look beautiful jagiya.”

Talks about having kids together.

One girl and one boy.

“Imagine walking around pregnant, you’ll look stunning.”

“You’ll make a wonderful mother.”

“Are kids might be short since we both lack height.”

“HEY!”

𝐊𝐈𝐌 𝐓𝐀𝐄𝐇𝐘𝐔𝐍𝐆

Brags about your cooking to his group.

“Yup my beautiful girlfriend made me a delicious meal.”

“She makes the best food ever.”

His parents making you lunch for you when you go to work.

Your boyfriend leaving cute notes in the lunchbox for you.

“Have a lovely day babe.”

“Don’t over work yourself <3”

“I miss you already.”

Being a nurse comes in handy, but sometimes Taehyung use it for any excuse as possible.”

“Look baby, I’m bleeding badly.”

“Tae.. it’s just a paper cut.”

𝐉𝐄𝐎𝐍 𝐉𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐊𝐎𝐎𝐊

Teases you..I mean full on teases you as a hobby.

“You need help reaching that.”

“My short girlfriend needs help, hmm?”

“Aww are you mad at me? I’m sorry babe.” No matter how much he apologizes he gots a playful grin plastered on his face.

Takes care off you

Loves watching you get ready for work

Friday nights y’all both watch a movie together and enjoy the food you prepare.

Carries you to bed when you fall asleep through half of the movie.

“Good night beautiful.”

#black reader #fluff #black fem reader #bts #bts x black girl #bts x black reader #bts x female reader #bts x poc #bts x reader #bts seokjin #bts namjoon #yoongi #hoseok #bts jimin #bts taehyung #jungkook #bts fic

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hobisstar · 2 years

Text

Summary: Vacation, gotta love it! Working everyday with barely anytime to break, this is something they all need. The Guys invited their bestest friend, Y/N to the In The Soop Vacation, of course they told her about the cameras but they told the camera crew that when she was out to put the camera away and let them chill with her. See what goes down on this 4 day beautiful vacation full of sexual tension.

SERIES: Part 1, 2, 3,4

Warnings: Dom!OT7 x Sub!POC!PLUS SIZE!Reader, Intersexual bedrooms, Smut (not this chapter) , vulgar language, Crushes, Alcohol drinks, BAM BEING A CUTIE, etc etc

a/n: YOU CAN STILL READ IF YOU ARENT A POC!! everyone is welcomed!!

“Get her bags, Tae!” Jin shouted into the van. Ah, Vacation! Boy, where they all so excited! They wished they could just chill with Y/N all for the days but they had to get shooting done.

“So, She’s sharing a room with Kookie? will Bam be okay with her in there? he seems to get overly excited when she’s around” Hobi giggles remembering when Bam saw Y/N walk into the van he literally ran to her and jumped on her. What can he say, he misses her as much as they did.

“ I’m fine with it! I love my Bammie~” Y/N smiled and petted bam who was currently sitting at her feet. “GASP! Does this mean me and Jungkook are back to being roommates? The Duo has been reunited!” Jungkook laughed and patted her back. They always used to sleep in the same room, usually him cuddling her to the point she couldn’t move but it was nice to wake up to someone not wanting to let you go, scared that you’d disappear and never comeback. “Okay! let’s all get settled in and meet back into the main house after so we can eat!” Yoongi said going to his room and everyone shouted okays as they went their different ways for now. Jungkook automatically picked Y/N up and ran to their room. “Kook! Why?!” she shouted between giggles. He loved showing her his strength and his weakness. “You look tired. You went to work all day then packed late and and went snack shopping with Jimin and Hobi. I know how drained you are” he put her down once he got to door. He slid it open and let Bam go inside first then walked Y/N in sitting her on the couch. “Stay here i’ll go get our things!” he said rushing back out avoiding any rebuttal. She sighed and patted next to her for Bam to come to her which he happily did and sat next to her. “I guess your father will be babying the both of us these 4 days, hm?” she chuckled and kissed his head and rubbed his belly. She grabbed her phone since she felt her phone go off..

“I’m back!” Jungkook said as he came into the room with their luggage. “Should we pack later? everyone is going to wait to pack they are hungry now.” Y/N asked putting her phone as JK hummed. “Eh, I guess so. Let’s, get bam situated first then we can go eat with everyone.” he said smiling watching y/n. gosh, his bestie is one beautiful goddess even when tired.

“Is Y/N and JK coming Jimin?” Yoongi asked as he continued to cook dinner for everyone. “Yeah, they had to get Bam settled.” As soon as jimin finished his sentence he saw Jungkook and Y/N walking in. “Perfect everyone’s here!” Hobi said as he ate on some chips. “Okay so We have to get some filming in these 4 days. Jungkook the camera’s turn on at 8am and turn off around 10 pm ish. so have Y/N in either in Hobi’s room since he’s bound to be up before everyone else, around 6am.” Namjoon stated as he read the schedule. “Taehyung is in charge of bringing her lunch if she can’t eat with us at that time. I’m in charge of getting her breakfast to eat in the morning but i feel as if Hobi should do it since he will be with her in the mornings. Jin, you are in charge of bring her here if we are all outside at a point of time play the video game with her. Lastly, Jimin you are to make sure she is back in Jungkooks room after 10 pm!” Y/N started to laugh since it was so much rules and scheduling even on break. “We have to do this every day for 4 days? damn joonie did you tell producers i was coming?” she jokingly asked which made him chuckle. “ Well miss not apart of the band, we have to keep you and your identity between us. We love Army but we don’t think they are just ready to hear we’ve had a secret best friend for the past 9 years. Hell, i wouldn’t be ready if i got that news.” Hobi laughs and looks at Namjoon. “They’d love her just as much as we do. She makes us happy! They’d be happy to know there is someone besides just us making eachother happy and feeling at ease” Taehyung nodded and so did Jin. “I don’t ever want Army to know about her, she’s our little secret.” Yoongi said by the stove and this made everyone laugh. “ Oh? is yoongi jealous that i’ll be getting some attention too?” she jokingly asked. He smiled and continued what he was doing, ignoring her question. Deep down it wasn’t jealousy, it was fear. They all felt it, them being so famous across the world the fame will be too much on Y\N. What if something were to happen to her when they aren’t with her if her identity is released to the public? They feared she’s get hurt, overwhelmed, stressed, and even depressed with the new attention and maybe even the new titles she’d get. They feared her freedom to roam wherever unlike them having to move around like ninjas sometimes, she’d have to start covering her face and having bodyguards at places simply as the grocery store. If it was up to them, and it is-, they’d gladly keep her as their hidden 8th member.

“Dinners Ready!” Yoongi spoke and brung the pot to the table. He sighed as he sat down. Everyone came to the kitchen and sat down, but everyone had a seat but Y/N. Jin mentally sighed because he thought producers would’ve at least had an extra chair, even if she couldn’t be shown on camera. The girl needs a seat. “y/n can sit in my chair..” jimin offered. “then we’re are you gonna sit? just sit on my lap y/n.” jungkook stated very bluntly. everyone looked at him like he lost his mind. “what a way to say you like her, kook.” hoseok snorted and shook his head. “she’s sat on his lap in cars and other places, this isn’t any different. he’s just lucky, and her favorite.” taehyung said pouting and rolled his eyes. y/n scoffed “ for your information tae, he isn’t my favorite he’s just the closest to me. not my fault. i can’t believe you are saying i have a favorite.” she looked at him, shocked, all because she didn’t even choose who’s lap would be her seat. “i-i.. didn’t mean it like that i was joking..” he said feeling bad. he was joking but he know it didn’t seem like it. he was jealous of jungkook though, they all were. I mean he’s sharing a room with her, in the same bed, UNDER THE SAME SHEETS, he was highly lucky. they’d all love for it to be them but she’s more closer to him and it’s a normal thing to put her with jk, so why now is it a problem? well, it’s always been her and jk, it gets tiresome to them. they crave her attention just as much as him but to them, her main focus is him. they grew to understand it but it’s tiresome. “we just get tired of you being around jk only… that’s all” namjoon mumbled and cleared his throat after. “guys you know we are just closer that’s it” jungkook defended her. “let’s just eat and go to get some shut eye. we need it for tomorrow.” jin said. taehyung looked up at y/n and sighed, he didn’t mean for it to come off seriously. he stood up “sit here, y/n” he said pulling the seat out more for her. she smiled and sat in it. “thank you, v.” she sat down and patted her lap. “sit” she stated and to which tae accepted quickly.

“dinner was great! we should head to sleep.” yoongi stated yawning. they all nodded and soon cleaned up and wished eachother good night while they descended to their rightful rooms. jk and y/n walked side to side just chatting, when jungkook thought about something that he tired to avoid all day. the feeling of wanting her closer than any friend should be. to feel every inch of her body the eye couldn’t see because of the clothes. to eat something he wanted for food all 4 days. “have you ever… had dirty thoughts about… someone?” jungkook asked as they walked into their shared house, for the next 4 days. y/n blushed and started to stutter “U-Uh why this question all of a s-sudden?” she asked looking away.

“to be honest i’ve , always had this feeling toward you. and not in a friendship type way. i try to ignore these feelings because i never know how you feel towards me but, i can’t keep holding back, y/n.” he confessed while sitting on the couch right next to her. he was a mess, from the light alcohol in his system from dinner, to butterflies floating around in is tummy when telling his true feelings to one of his bestest friends. “i feel the same, j.” she spoke out and finally turned to look at him. “i guess sharing rooms all these years have made me grow something inside more than a friend shouldve” she chuckled lightly and jungkook grabbed her hand gently and smiled at her. “can i… kiss you?” he muttered getting closer to her, caressing her hands and intertwining them so they can hold hands. “yes..” she whispered even lower but in case he didn’t hear, she shock her head and smiled lightly. jungkook did waist any second as he softly laid his lips on her softer ones. he pulled her closer wanting her to be as close as possible wanting her touch to be engraved into his body. he wish he could tattoo her touch all over his body. the room felt hot and it was getting heated but they pulled away once they heard bam bark and whimper which scared y/n since she was so into it with jungkook she forgot about her surroundings. they looked between eachother then smiled and let out a light chuckle. “ah, bam-ah, you don’t like your dad getting attention, hm?” he looked at him and bam sat down right next to them. jungkook looked at their intertwined hands and kissed it. “i’m gonna go get something sweet from the kitchen, want anything?” y/n asked and he shook his head. she smiled lightly and kissed him once more before unlocking their hands and heading outside to the kitchen. she couldn’t help be skip to the kitchen, excitement going through her body making her want to dance and sing. once she arrived to the kitchen she saw jimin and hoseok sitting at the table just converting about their day and what they wished to do for the 4 days. she thought she was imagining things but she heard jimin say something in the lines of “ gosh, y/n looks so beautiful i wonder what she will be wearing tomorrow, she looks good in almost anything. her little tummy peeking through her clothes. her curves is everything. ah, jungkook is so lucky. i want to just pick her up and pocket her. from you all.” he chuckled and bit his lip…. no way… does jimin like her too?

#bts ot7 smut #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #bts x reader #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #jungkook x reader #bts in the soop #bts x poc

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missbangtangirl · 1 year

Text

Hobi will come back Safely 💜💜 Army we love you ❤️ Hobi so much

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sopebubbles · 1 year

Text

Chapter Eleven

Summary: How many men will it take to save you? To be honest, you’ve gotten pretty used to saving yourself. Even though you’re far from a delicate thing, Los Angeles is a dangerous place you can’t seem to escape no matter how hard you try. The top 7 members of Bangtan should never have crossed your path, but they soon find they’d do just about anything to help you escape your past and make it safe for you to stay. But will you?

Genre: mafia au, poly ot7, angst, some smut, honestly a lot more fluff than i expected, POC reader/oc

A/n: I'm sorry this update is a little shorter than the others! I think thematically it made sense to separate them this way. Also I swear I did not mean to post this on beastie-writes 😪 so I'm sorry if that threw anybody off! I made the update and saw my draft was saved under the wrong name and didn't want to start over. The other chapters will continue on sopebubbles!

A/n 2: I am re-posting this chapter because t*mblr did a t*mblr thing and deleted @/beastie-writes, where this chapter was originally posted. It's not new. Now back to our regular programing.

Warnings: angst and lots of feeling (hopefully good ones too!!)

Word count: 3.8K

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It was easy to fall into a routine at the Bangtan house. You’d wake up in the morning, grab something to eat and chat with Jungkook by the poolside before he left with Namjoon to fulfill their duties. Then you’d “go for a walk” around the house. You told yourself that this was to wear off some of your excess energy and become familiar with the grounds in case you needed to escape, but the fact that your walk ended every day with you finding Yoongi was not lost on either of you.

Yoongi was endeared to see the way you would shuffle and stare at your feet, asking him what he was up to when what you really wanted was to sit on the couch and watch dramas together. You may not have wanted to take him away from his work or maybe you just weren’t in the habit of asking for what you wanted, but regardless of you never expressing your wish, Yoongi was always happy to be the first one to offer.

“Do you want to finish watching that drama from yesterday?” he’d ask, watching your face brighten as you’d nod eagerly. “Lemme finish up here and you can go grab Jimin.”

And you would. Because their roles rarely required them to leave the grounds, Jimin and Yoongi became your natural drama buddies. Every afternoon you’d pile on the couch together while Yoongi gathered snacks. They always seemed to be able to spare a couple of hours for you. Even Jimin, who at first seemed apprehensive around you, was showing signs of enjoying your company.

Jimin started sitting closer to you on the couch and offering you some of his snacks. He liked to look up fan theories on his phone while you guys watched and would often share them with you and ask your opinion about them after each episode.

But Jimin noticed the way you never closed the distance when you sat near him on the couch, how you kept your muscles tense even as Yoongi catered to you. There was a calculation in your movements so that even as you were at-ease in your body language, you were never quite relaxed. Jimin wondered if he was contributing to your tension. He thought he was demonstrating his acceptance of you, but maybe he needed to do more.

“Val, do you want to cuddle?” Jimin asked one afternoon while you were both waiting for Yoongi to bring snacks.

The question caught you completely by surprise, your face heating with embarrassment, “I…um…”

“You don’t have to,” Jimin added nonchalantly. “I just thought it would help.”

“What would help?” Yoongi asked, setting the popcorn down in front of you.

“Us cuddling with Val.”

“And that would help with what exactly?” You kept your face to the paused screen in front of you, not trusting yourself to look at either of the men giving you their full attention.

Jimin shrugged, “You just hold yourself like someone who’s been rejected, but we’re not rejecting you. So I thought maybe us holding you would make you realize we’re not rejecting you.”

Yoongi chuckled awkwardly. Jimin’s brand of matter-of-fact honesty always toed the line of refreshing and uncomfortable. Jimin was sharply attuned to people’s body language, but not in predicting how his words could make other people feel. “There’s no pressure. You don’t have to,” Yoongi offered kindly, giving you an out.

“It…it might be nice,” you whispered shyly. You thought back to the tender touches and closeness you shared with Taehyung and how nice it used to feel. But back then, it always led to something more. “Only cuddling, right?”

“If that’s what you want,” Jimin shrugged again, leaving the implication that you could want more hanging in the air.

“Only cuddling. And if you want to stop, just tell us you want to stop,” Yoongi assured.

“Okay,” you agreed, feeling awkward about what to do next.

Jimin scooted closer to you, tapping on his chest, “Go ahead, snuggle up. I’m softer than Yoongi-hyung.”

Yoongi scoffed and you couldn’t help the giggle that escaped you as you curled up against Jimin’s chest. He was comfy and warm, smelling of clean laundry as he let his arm hang lazily around you.

“You can lay out your legs across mine,” Yoongi suggested, scooting closer to you and Jimin. You were still a little worried as you stretched yourself across Yoongi, but he gave you a reassuring pat. “It’s like I have a Val blanket,” he giggled.

You could have laughed at that too, lost in the giddiness of how cozy you felt. But instead, you hummed in acknowledgement, already being lulled by Jimin’s heartbeat and the warmth of his chest.

Jimin glanced down to see you completely slack against him, eyes heavy as your breath evened. He smirked, satisfied that he had finally gotten you to relax as he started to play with your hair, earning a happy sigh from you.

>>>>

“You look rested,” Jin mentioned, as he finished chopping up some green onion. His usual “Kiss the Cook” apron was tied around him while he reached for mushrooms to chop.

Your stomach swirled with uneasiness as you thought back to how you fell asleep on Jimin’s chest during your afternoon cuddle session. You’d woken up to a gentle nudge from Yoongi, your fists clenched tightly in Jimin’s shirt and a small drool stain where you had rested your head on Jimin’s chest. Jimin was unbothered, and rather amused to see how relaxed you had been, but the thought of you letting go of your well-practiced control, even for a moment, unsettled you. You made a quick apology and excused yourself to help Seokjin, who had started the habit of coming over to make dinner in the evenings.

“What’re you making?” You asked, pointedly ignoring his comment and hopping up on the stool across from him.

“Doenjang-jjigae,” Jin answered with a happy hum, expertly cutting up the vegetables in front of him. Having watched him for several days now, this was not the first time you wondered what other skills Jin wielded with a knife.

“Jjigae? Is that stew?” You guessed.

Jin nodded, “It’s made with a soy-bean paste. It’s a pretty common dish.”

You gave a thoughtful hum, but said nothing more.

“Is something bothering you?” Jin asked, combining the vegetables together. “Normally by this point you’re asking how you can help and taking it upon yourself to add seasoning to everything. Yesterday I nearly had to wrestle you to the ground to prevent you from dumping a whole tub of gochujang into the japchae.”

“Gochujang is good though,” you grumbled, poking at a bit of mushroom that rolled across the counter.

“Yaeya, dong-uihae! But the secret to good japchae is the right balance of soy sauce and brown sugar and I have been perfecting that balance for decades.”

“You’re not that old.”

“I started young. Do you think I let my mother eat bad japchae after I was conceived? No! She had terrible morning sickness because of me and lots of bad japchae,” Seokjin was basically shouting as he dumped the vegetables into the bubbling broth.

You laughed heartily, hands covering your face at Jin’s overzealousness. With a spirit like his, you imagine his mother probably did get indigestion.

“Why’re you always coming over here to cook dinner if you have your own place?” You asked once your laughter subsided.

“I asked you a question first.”

“I’m ignoring it.”

Seokjin shrugged as if to say “suit yourself” before responding, “Namjoon asked me to. He wants to make sure you stay well-nourished and I’m the best cook in the bunch, so…” he gestured openly with his arms, “here I am.”

“No offense, but you don’t really seem like the type to follow orders,” you mused.

“None taken,” he replied, focusing now on on the slow-cooked beef from the oven. The smells in the kitchen were starting to blend together and permeate the air, making your stomach rumble inaudibly. “There’s no shame in following orders. Plus, I get to enjoy your company.”

You pouted, unsatisfied and hungry, “I don’t believe you.”

“That there’s no shame in following orders or that I enjoy your company?”

“Both.”

“Well, the most powerful thing you can do is believe you have power in the first place; regardless of if you’re on the giving or receiving end of orders,” Seokjin explained, putting the beef into the stew and lowering the temperature on the stove to a simmer. You grunted, still not impressed. Power was power in your mind. You either took what was yours or you didn’t. “And as far as your company,” Seokjin continued. “It’s a tragedy you’re the last to know, but you’re kinda cool to hang out with.”

“Yeah, right,” you scoffed. “All I do is sit around all day.”

Seokjin’s eyes widened dramatically and, putting a hand to his mouth, he gasped in mock-horror, “I hadn’t considered that. I guess I am having a terrible time.”

“Cállate, pendejo,” you laughed.

“Once I figure out what that means, I’ll have a very witty comeback,” Seokjin grinned, wagging a finger at you. “Go get the others, dinners ready.”

>>>>>>>

You wouldn’t want to admit it, but you enjoyed the cacophony of the Bangtan dinner table. So often you were left to eat dinner either by yourself or, on rare occasions, with Joaquin, that you weren’t sure how everyone could be so noisy and chew their food at the same time. Even just the hums and moans they made as they ate and complimented the food made the meals loud even without active conversation. It seemed like every meal was the best meal they ever ate. And to be fair, every meal was delicious. Perhaps Seokjin really was the best cook in the bunch, though you hadn’t tried everyone else’s cooking to compare it.

You liked to sit next to Yoongi during dinner. Partly because Yoongi was good at loading your plate while explaining what you were eating and how to eat it. But mostly because, even if you were still embarrassed from earlier, Yoongi always had a way of making you feel safe and unjudged.

“Keep your thumb steady and only move your pointer finger. And remember, we have forks,” Yoongi advised as he watched your kimchi sliding off your chopsticks again and again.

“She’s got it, she’s got it,” Hoseok chanted in Korean. You were sticking your tongue out a bit in concentration, studying carefully with furrowed brows as the red piece of cabbage made it to your lips. The entire table erupted in applause and you scooted your chair back to stand up and take a bow.

“To Val!” Namjoon cheered, raising a shot glass of soju, the other men echoing “To Val!” as they downed their shot.

When you plopped back into your chair, you reached for Yoongi’s hand on the table and while everyone was laughing and carrying on you whispered, “Thank you for always looking out for me, Oppa.”

Your heart swelled while you watched his ears turn red, “Always,” he whispered back, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.

The dinner continued on in a light-hearted, joyous mood with little talk of Bangtan’s work life or your dire predicament. You tried to let yourself be lulled by the conversation, but the unease you were familiar with was back, bubbling up through your stomach and clawing its way to your throat. You kept quiet though, looking out over the table, listening to the blend of Korean and English around you, wondering when they might confront you about earning your keep or when they might get sick of taking care of you and ask you to leave. No one could really be that impressed with your ability to use chopsticks. It was silly and stupid and everyone else could do it anyway, so why did they need to pretend on your behalf? Were they setting you up for something? Trying to gain your trust? You became acutely aware of how you had slumped in your chair and were no longer contributing to the conversation. Were you killing the mood? Were the boys aware of how untrusting you were? Would they care? Your eyes settled on the empty spot where Taehyung still failed to show up for dinner. He wasn’t there because you didn’t want to see him. You knew that. You had asked for this space and he was giving it to you. It was kind, more kind than you were used to or expected. Everything here was. But why did it feel ominous now? Where was the catch?

“Excuse me,” you said, standing up with a polite smile before you finished your plate. “Everything was delicious, Seokjin, thank you.”

If anyone noticed the way your mood was faltering, no one said anything. Seokjin had been laughing at something Hoseok was telling him when he passively said, “My pleasure! It’s nice to have your moral support in the kitchen.”

“Do you need me to get you anything?” Yoongi asked, searching your face for an explanation as to why you were leaving early.

“I’m good, Oppa,” You lied. “Just a little tired.”

Yoongi nodded, “I’ll clean up your plate. Don’t worry about it.”

“Thank you.”

It felt like miles before you got to your bed, but when you finally reached it, you buried your face into a pillow and let yourself cry.

>>>

The light from outside your bedroom shone underneath the door creating dramatic shadows from the furniture in the room. Sitting up slowly, you blinked and rubbed your puffy eyes. You hadn’t meant to fall asleep but you were grateful that it was dreamless. Unfortunately, it meant that you would have an even harder time falling back to sleep. You sighed, the heaviness of your emotions had subsided but the echo of them was still there. You let yourself be ebbed by the flow of your aimless thoughts until your mind found itself back to when you had napped earlier that day. Between Yoongi and Jimin. Against Jimin’s chest. There was no pressure or expectation in listening to Jimin breathe and the way he and Yoongi avoided clinging to you made you feel secure in the fact that you could leave whenever you wanted. It was nice and you missed it. It was warm and you wanted more.

Before you could chastise yourself for being greedy, you left the room quickly to find Jimin. You told yourself, at the very least, you could apologize for drooling on his shirt earlier. Lucky for you, no one was around as you made your way to the basement, so you could avoid explaining your true motives.

When you approached the door, you heard gunfire and shouting. Jimin was clearly yelling at his TV. You knocked on Jimin’s door tentatively.

“Fuck this, man.” Jimin grumbled from the other side of the door. The noises from the action sequence stopped suddenly as he called, “Come in!”

“I think you’re loosing your touch–” another voice teased as you opened the door to see Jimin leaning back on his couch, game controller to his left as he idly played with Taehyung’s hair and watched you come in. It took you a second to register what you were seeing. Taehyung was stretched out on the couch, head in Jimin’s lap, game controller in hand. Neither of them were wearing shirts and their sweatpants hung low around their hips. It wasn’t anything you hadn’t seen before, but you still looked away. “Sorry, if I’m interrupting something…” you trailed off, rubbing your arm to get rid of the goosebumps.

“No, no,” Taehyung shot off of Jimin’s lap and to his feet. “I’m sorry. I can leave, it’s getting late anyway–”

“It’s okay,” you said, finding his eyes to show him you meant it. “You can stay. It’s, um…Nice to see you.” Even this small confession left your heart aching in your chest. After everything that happened, you hoped Taehyung didn’t hate you, but you also hoped you wouldn’t have to explain yourself tonight. “Please stay.”

Jimin watched the two of you, not sure of what to make of the exchange. He ultimately decided it wasn’t his responsibility to figure out why the two of you looked so uncomfortable, so instead he said, “Did you need something?”

“I just wanted to apologize for earlier,” you answered, sheepishly. Now that you were actually in Jimin’s space, your plan felt very silly.

“What happened earlier?” Jimin said, confused. He was genuinely unaware of something you had done wrong and you had never visited him before, so all of this seemed highly uncalled for.

“When I drooled on you…” You replied, feeling more and more embarrassed by the moment.

“Oooh,” Jimin realized. “Oh that? It’s fine. Sometimes people drool when they’re relaxed. I think it’s kind of nice.”

“Did you guys play together?” Taehyung asked, trying to hide his shock.

“Play together?” You echoed, having no idea what Taehyung meant.

“Nah, she fell asleep on my chest and drooled on my shirt,” Jimin said easily. “I have an extra controller. Do you want to play with us?”

You looked at the screen with the words Call of Duty across the top, “I’ve never played video games before.”

“This wouldn’t be a good one to start with then,” Jimin thought out loud. “You guys should sit down. I’m gonna get the Switch so we can play Mario Kart. I’ll be right back.”

Jimin stretched as he stood up, cracking his neck as he did so, and briskly walked out of the room, leaving you and a shirtless Taehyung standing in the middle of the room, dim lighting letting the weight of each other’s presence be known.

“Are you sure it’s okay if I stay?” Taehyung asked hesitantly.

“Yes, but could you put on a shirt please?”

“Right,” Taehyung said, suddenly embarrassed. You turned your eyes to him, watching as his white tshirt fell loosely over his tanned shoulders, hiding away the muscles in his back that you once knew so well. That ache you had returned again and you were suddenly desperate for being held. Your emotions bubbled up to your throat as you struggled to swallow them back, wrapping your arms around yourself in an attempt to be soothed.

Taehyung’s heart broke as he turned back to look at you. You were only a few feet in front of him and closer than you had been in weeks, but standing there, looking so small as you held yourself away from him, he thought you were farther than ever. He wanted to kiss you again and keep you safe in his arms. He wanted to explain that when he called you his before it was only because his heart knew it found its missing piece when he met you and that he was wrong to think of himself as entitled to you and he was sorry he ever did. He was a monster in your life while you were the light in his and he was so, so sorry.

When Jimin walked into the room, he noticed that you were both on the brink of tears. He knew that you both had history with one another, but he wasn’t quite sure what could cause such a reaction when neither of you had even been talking to each other.

“Do you guys need to hug?” Jimin suggested.

“Um..” You knew your answer before Jimin had even asked the question, every nerve in your body was begging for it.

Jimin narrowed his eyes like he had formed some conclusion while observing you, “I think you guys need to hug.”

“Please,” you had barely gotten the word out when Taehyung closed the distance and wrapped his arms around you. Breathing in the familiar scent broke the last defense you had in protecting yourself from your emotions. You nuzzled into his chest and let the tears fall from your face, feeling a wetness against your shoulder as Taehyung buried his face in your neck.

Taehyung tried not to squeeze you too tight despite the overwhelming sense of relief he felt with having you in his arms. He told himself that even if this was all you were willing to give him for the rest of your life, he would accept it. He would never again ask for more than what you were willing to give. His shoulders shook as he wept against you and eventually he felt you rubbing his back, still not moving away or asking him to let go.

Jimin was content to let the moment continue for as long as you both needed, seeing that there was a lot that you guys needed to process even if neither of you had words for it yet.

Eventually, your tears had stopped and you whispered gentle shushing against Taehyung, feeling warmth spread throughout your body at feeling the weight of him in your arms. Slowly, he pulled himself away from you, looking down at you with a sense of wonder that you hoped you returned in kind. Whatever the embrace had done for you, it appeared Taehyung had needed it just as desperately.

“Do you guys still want to play Mario Kart?” Jimin asked, already moving to set up the switch as if you had said yes.

You giggled wetly, still high from your relief, “Sure.”

Taehyung also laughed, a little awkwardly as he ran his fingers through his hair, “Yeah, that sounds fun.”

Jimin turned back to the two of you, noticing something he had missed before, “Do I need to put on a shirt too?”

“If you don’t mind,” You said.

“I’ll wear a fuzzy shirt so you can lay against me again,” Jimin announced. “I think you like cuddling.”

You had experienced too many emotions today to be embarrassed anymore or try to deny it, so instead you nodded, “I think you’re right.” You turned to Taehyung. “You’ll stay and cuddle too, right?”

Taehyung could have cried again if he hadn’t already drained himself of all of it. He sniffled, happily, “If you want me to.”

“I want you to,” You assured, taking his hand and leading him over to the couch. Jimin plopped on the other side of you, wearing a fuzzy black sweater. You were all snuggled up together, you leaning into Jimin and Taehyung leaning into you. Your leg was trapped between Taehyung’s body and the couch but you wouldn’t complain. You didn’t want anything to change.

Chipper music began as the start menu loaded, looking at the tiny controller in your hand, you couldn’t help your fit of laughter.

“I have no idea what I’m doing,” you said, not sure if you meant the game or in general.

“Don’t worry,” Jimin said, quickly making selections on the screen before you were able to choose your own character. “We’ll help you.”

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