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jjinnies · 2 years

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Chapter 1: The Case (Trial & Error).

Warnings: mentions of gore and murder, blood & crime.

Word Count: 2.7k+

previous chapter — next chapter

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As soon as Seokjin had heard of a new crime scene unfolding at the heart of Gangnam, he rushed over to his office.

The primary suspect had been arrested already without a fair trial, possibly to quell the news of the unexpected murders in the picture-perfect neighbourhood. Yet, his co-worker had informed him of the details surrounding the case almost as soon as word had gotten around of the fresh crime in cold blood.

"If the Kim family had a long list of enemies, why apprehend a butler?"

This information has been given to him approximately 45 minutes ago. Now, he sat in his pyjamas, outfit hardly considered professional, as he rubbed the sleep off his heavy eyelids.

The man's appearance currently, did no justice in establishing him as one of Korea's best lawyers. With his typical work attire – straightened black slacks and a crisp white shirt – momentarily abandoned, it seemed as though he had disregarded his self-care too.

Hair ruffled, glasses on and coffee steaming beside him in his plain black mug, he sat at his office desk. His slender fingers worked at the mouse, fingertips now drumming against the glass exterior of his desk as he waited for his computer to log him in. And once he heard the familiar ding sounding against the otherwise empty building, he leant forward in his leather chair expectantly.

Lifting the mug of lukewarm coffee towards his lips, a much-needed gulp lessened the contents of the cup. Though he hated the taste, he drank it for the rush of caffeine. And as he currently blinked to allow his eyelashes to cut away the fog from his deep, onyx black orbs, the digital clock by his desk flashed 2:30 AM like a ticking time bomb, reminding him of the little time this job always spared him with each criminal case.

Seokjin's eyebrows furrowed: his concentration kicked in.

It was now that he began to read the threadbare details surrounding the case.

The Kim family, a seemingly normal — if not well-off — name, rich enough to pay for hired help around their two-storey mansion. The Coroner's report had not yet been submitted, though police officials and medical experts at the crime scene deemed all murders to be committed within a ten-minute window – between 1:14 AM to 1:24 AM.

With two children, aged 15 and 17, and the parents, Kim Taehyung and Kim Minji, all declared dead beyond resuscitation, the question of murder weighed heavily on the affluent community around them. Neighbours had already begun to eye each other warily, and rumours were spreading like wildfire. It would only be a matter of days before the wider public would discover the atrocity, and Kim Seokjin was assigned this case as a posthumous lawyer to deliver justice ASAP. To clear the fog on what had really happened within those ten, unretrievable minutes.

Scrolling down further, Seokjin bit his lip as he scanned the different types of networks he would have access to in order to help him on the case. Interviews with the Coroner, insight into the medical conditions of the Kim family, as well as police warrants to search different crime locations were all given to the lawyer.

But as he spent more time dissecting the different components found at the crime scene, his curiosity was piqued.

Leaning back into his chair, he rolled his broad shoulders back, absentmindedly gnawing at the end of his pen as he closed his eyes.

The murder weapon, a kitchen knife, had already been found. The only other person in the house was the family butler, who lived in the servant quarters of the mansion. Apparently, Jimin hadn’t heard anything, and had only woken up to retrieve a glass of water. Only to find much more than he had bargained for.

With no sign of forced entry or even the presence of another person, surely the only person guilty would be the butler?

But why did it seem so easy?

—

Seokjin had retired to his bedroom soon after the ticking of his office clock seemed so loud, he could barely hear himself think. There was nothing he could do in the dead of the night anyway; he would have to wait the morning before digging up more information by personally visiting the crime scene.

And so, Seokjin found himself waiting in his car, mere metres away from the Kim residence, whose perimeter was lined with yellow police tape and stressed officers. His eyes drew to the neighbours who were huddled by the street, wondering if they could gather more information now that the dark night had been replaced by an unfittingly sunny day.

He hadn’t even realised he was standing by the sectioned off crime scene before an officer eyed him warily, and it was only then that he fished out the warrant he had been given by his agency, flashing it towards the public servant as some sort of explanation.

He was granted entry, and he stepped under the tape to solidify his commitment to the case.

Before him, among the many men and women photographing the dishevelled scene, stood the primary police officer. Mint-green hair was hid under his uniform’s cap, and he appeared to be signing something off before his eyes also fell towards the new suit-clad lawyer.

“Kim Seokjin? You must be the posthumous lawyer Dr Lee was telling me about. I’m Chief Officer Min Yoongi. But please, just call me Yoongi.”

The officer held his hand out to deliver a polite handshake, and Seokjin returned the gesture as he nodded.

“Yoongi, pleasure to meet you. I’m Seokjin, or Jin. What do you know so far?”

The two men walked further into the scene, away from most of the police officers. Seokjin’s hand tightened around the handle of his briefcase as he observed the outline of four figures on the floor, linked with white chalk and coppery blood to signify where they had been murdered. Other furniture had been strewn around the place – vases, chairs, books, even a few side tables.

Yoongi shoved his hands awkwardly into the navy-blue pockets of his police wear as his eyes looked back to ensure nobody was eavesdropping. He took his cap off, finding it fitting to do so when discussing deceased members of the community. It was only then that he let out a soft sigh.

“Frankly? Not much. The case pretty much seems open and shut.”

Yoongi’s words earnt an unconvinced hum from Seokjin. The police officer elaborated.

“Jimin’s hands, his face, even his clothes. They were all stained with blood when we arrived. His fingerprints were found on the murder weapon. We couldn’t find anyone else on the CCTV footage, and there seems to be no sign of forced entry anywhere across the mansion. Poor kid seemed shaken up, but if it wasn’t him, who would it be?”

Yoongi knew that Jin was tasked with proving Jimin’s innocence. His words probably didn’t help the lawyer at all. But he was merely reiterating what he knew.

So why did he feel a pang of guilt?

“Listen, Jin. Maybe if you wait around for a bit, at least until the juniors have some reign around here, I can take you to see Jimin. Maybe talking to him might help you.”

Seokjin nodded gratefully at Yoongi’s offer.

But before he was able to verbally thank the man, the interaction was soon cut off by a police officer walking – jogging – over to Yoongi. Seokjin would later be introduced to the young police officer. His name was Jungkook, a young but determined police officer working directly under Yoongi. Whose first case was the Kim murders.

He couldn’t be much older or younger than Jimin, Jin thought. He watched as the younger police officer’s doe eyes glanced innocently between him and his primary officer. Although his very muscular physique, combined with the array of tattoos professionally tucked under his navy-blue long sleeve, reminded Jin that he wasn’t just a kid.

“Yoongi? You might want to listen to what one of the nannies are saying.”

—

Like Yoongi, Jungkook took the initiative to remove his cap when the distressed nanny ahead of them spoke of her late employers.

The younger police officer signalled for a bottle of water to be handed to the woman as she recounted how much she loved the family, and how heart-wrenching and callous the whole situation seemed.

Jungkook wrapped an arm around the older woman in a side hug, consoling the lady as they urged her to talk, knowing that any information right now could be crucial in the development of the case.

Jin and Yoongi watched on sympathetically, and when the other officers had found a chair and some water for the nanny to use, Jungkook squatted beside her to hold her hand in the process, occasionally using his sleeve to dab away at the woman’s horrified tears.

He felt absolutely awful for her. She had, after all, merely been expecting to see the two children she was responsible for raising all these years. Nobody had informed her of the cruel fate the family had succumbed to, and her hysteria was understandable when she arrived at the mansion, realising that she would never see the precious family she loved so much, ever again.

“T-they were like a second family to me,” she finally mumbled, looking down at her shoes, fingers fumbling with each other as stray tears slipped down her slightly wrinkled face. She sucked in a breath, squeezing her eyes shut as she attempted to rid her aching heart of its pain.

“I just can’t believe…I can’t fathom that Jimin would do this. No…Jimin was Taehyung’s friend, like a brother.”

Yoongi noticed the way Seokjin pulled his own writing pad out, noting the woman’s name down before letting his own questioning begin.

“Mrs Song, we’re so sorry for your loss,” he began, a genuine sigh leaving his lips as he only began to imagine what the woman ahead of him was going through.

“Do you have good reason to be suspicious of anyone else?”

When asked the question, the woman attempted to collect herself. She patted Jungkook’s hand over hers gently, her motherly instincts working even now as she wanted to reassure the young police officer who felt responsible for her wellbeing throughout the short time she had been here, the crime scene.

But as she pursed her dry lips, her eyes trailed down the corridor, past both Yoongi and Jin, to observe the door of Taehyung’s office slightly ajar.

In her 12 years of working with the Kims, she had never seen the room open.

Her shaky hand pointed up, until it aligned with the space that her eyes were set on. The trio’s eyebrows raised confusedly before they tried to peer at what the older woman was trying to raise their attention towards.

Yoongi’s eyes found the slightly cracked door first.

Jungkook helped the woman drink some water, and her nerves settled a little. She continued.

“None of the hired help was allowed in that room, not even the kids. I was made clear of that rule when Mr Kim had first interviewed me for the job almost a decade ago.”

Her mind fell back to the day she had seen Minjung and Taehoon, the two children she loved like her own for all these years. She forced herself to continue, wanting to be as helpful as possible to the people who would bring justice to the situation.

“A few months ago,” she paused to recollect herself, “Mr Kim had handed me an envelope, which he told me contained details to all his assets. With those, anybody could withdraw any amount of money from his funds, and he assured me that the transaction was untraceable. I think it also contained his will, but I don’t remember.”

The woman continued as she explained why her boss had given her that information. It seemed arbitrary for an employee to know something so important about their employer.

“He knew I had been struggling with money. It was my daughter’s final year of college, and I had to help pay for her costly tuition. He told me to withdraw any amount I needed to feel secure, but I declined. I couldn’t bring myself to do so, especially when Mr Kim was paying me much more than other household nannies receive.”

By now, Yoongi and Jin had taken a seat in a few chairs brought to them by the other officers. They didn’t want Mrs Song to feel intimidated. The space was cleared to give the woman more space to breathe.

“After much convincing, Mr Kim took the envelope back. He contacted my daughter secretly days later and made sure he personally took care of her student loan. But the next day, I saw Mr Kim keying in a code before opening the door to the room none of us servants had ever seen the inside of. I turned around and tended to something else out of respect for his privacy, but I saw him return the envelope back to his safe, and he left again almost instantly after that.”

Jungkook was the first to thank the woman for her cooperation. For the first time, the woman smiled, even if it was a forced gesture made simply to reassure the young man that she was beginning to feel better already.

Yoongi’s words followed suit.

“Did anyone else know of the envelope, Mrs Song?”

When the woman was directed a question, she shifted to face Yoongi. She tried to think back of all the interactions playing back regarding the mysterious room that her employer seemed too protective over.

Until one specific interaction stood out.

“Everybody hired after 2012 was told that the space was a closet for extra storage. They never questioned it because they had no reason to. All other employees that did know about the secret office have already retired or moved on to other households.”

Jin remembered from the case profile of Jimin that he had been recruited as a senior butler to the Kim family in 2017.

“But last week, when I was getting the kids ready for bed, I heard a loud sound coming from the room. In the morning, when I was watching over the kids playing in the courtyard, I noticed that somebody had tried to shatter the thick window from the outside, maybe with a stone. It only left cracks. I told Mr Kim immediately, and the new employees were gathered so he could talk to them.”

Jungkook had noticed that the window of Taehyung’s office was slightly different to the windows of the rest of the house when he had walked into the crime scene this morning. He now realised that the window had been newly replaced.

Even so, the entrance seemed much too far from streetview for somebody to hurl a stone at the window. The attempted – presumed – robbery had to be an inside job, and Taehyung seemed to think so too, judging from how he rounded up the new staff only.

This newfound information gave Jin some hope to relieve Jimin of the accusations he was pressed under. In his mind, Jimin was innocent until proven guilty.

The lawyer grounded himself back to where he was as he thanked Mrs Song for her help once again. Jungkook took this as a sign to lead the woman away from the crime scene unfit for an innocent nanny like her, and he led her outside for some fresh air, arranging a cab while the woman took some time to herself.

Meanwhile, Yoongi excused himself from the place of the spontaneous interrogation, eyes flickering to the seemingly important room before he made his way to it.

His fingertips pressed against the door, pushing the metal barrier away from him to reveal the expensively decorated office.

On his way inside, he noted that the keypad had been dented, and when that probably failed to allow entry into the room, the door had been pushed open with brute force.

He took his phone out to snap pictures of both clues.

One quick glance into the room confirmed everything the woman had been saying. His eyes zeroed in on the safe that had been left wide open, and what was once meant to be a safe filled with valuables – most importantly, a thick envelope – was no longer there.

Maybe this case wasn’t as open and shut as he had once anticipated.

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hobicakess · 4 months

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PLAYING DANGEROUS — (teaser)

summary: It's been almost three years since Jack in the box was caught, and no one could make him talk. No one knew his story, and what drove him to become the monster he was today. That is until you're assigned your first story. What makes you so lucky?

rating: 18+ (I'm not your mother you're in control of what you consume)

pairings: Journalist!Reader x Criminal!JungHoseok x CEO!Kim Namjoon x Detective!MinYoongi.

warnings: smut murder, blood and gore, Jack In The Box Hobi, corruption, workplace abuse, yandere characters, possessive/obsessive behavior, dubcon, short hair namjoon (yes that's a warning), black/plus sized coded reader, violence from every single aspect, police brutality, mircoagression towards woc, lawyer kim seokjin, maknae helping cause chaos, manipulation, drugs and addiction, unhinged serial killer hobi (joker vibes tbh) , yoongi hates his job, namjoon loves his job (he gets to piss you off everyday)

authors note: howdy hotties! this fic was heavily inspired by this post, i don't think it'll be 30 chapters but something about it just spoke to me and itched my writer brain. even though the mc is black coded anyone can read ofc!! I can't wait to write for this series. if you'd like a tag pls comment below. Reblogs are appreciated and check out my other works (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)

part one

There was a manic laughter that echoed through the new station. The giggles caused shivers and goosebumps to pass through everybody in the building simply because that laughter was familiar. The sounds were admitting from the little black box that sat on your desk. In horror you and your peers that happened to be close by watch the little black clown that popped from graffiti painted the box swing animatedly back and forth. Everyone in Korea knew this clown and what it meant.

“Mr.Kim is not seeing anyone right-” you push the secretary out your way causing her to stumble on her kitten heels and she watches you stomp your way into her bosses and yours office. The door opens wide slamming against the wall causing the booksvon the shelves to tremble, some even tumbling to the floor.

There he sat Kim Namjoon. He stared at you with his eyebrow raised. Some of the buttons of his black dress shirt were unbuttoned, the glass at his side was filled with brown liquid and even more books and papers laid out messily on his desk. .

With as much force as you could you throw the giggling box at him. The impact smacking him hard on the chest but with his build you were sure that it didn't do a thing. He held it in his hands flipping it over clicking an unknown button, shutting the gut wrenching sound shut off.

“ You told me if I took this story I'd be safe,*

Namjoon sighs as if you were speaking nonsense and not about life or death. “Let's be clear here you agreed to take this story when I only simply suggested it. Besides what makes you think Jack sent this?” He was right.

Maybe your coworkers thought I'd be funny to freak you out a little more since taking on the Clown killer case, still it was a sick joke that you didn't really find funny.

“Jack is locked in a maximum security prison surrounded by guards, and guns. He's not getting out anytime soon.”

The door swung open again and there stood his assistant. “Mr.Kim turned the news on!”

Grabbing the remote he clicks on the TV that was mounted on the wall of his office. The screen lights up showing a familiar smoking building. Your heart began to speed up in rhythm as you stare at the headline

Serial killer Jack In The Box escapes from Hangsang Maximum security prison

The screen flicks again to the dark red writings on the wall that used to be his cell.

‘See you soOn honey bunches 🃏’

And that was the last thing you saw before you tumble to the ground.

©hobicakesss , please don't repost or steal my work. don't be a loser

#bts x black reader #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #dee recs.#jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #dee reblogs.#hoseok x reader #rapline x reader #hyunglinexreader #bts fanfic #mafia bts #gangster bts #yandere yoongi #yandere bts

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wildestdreamsblog · 8 months

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Latibule Spinoff

I told you all I was bored

Elysian: Kim Seokjin x Intern!Reader

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

It brought you immense joy to make the renowned and the genius head doctor, Kim Seokjin, blushed uncontrollably. You thought it was just a harmless fun, an innocent and childlike flirting on your part when he never reciprocated your advances. Too bad you didn’t know you were flirting with the mafia prince.

Min Yoongi x Veterinarian!Reader

Latibule: Ongoing

Jung Hoseok x (Shhh To be announced)

xxx

Kim Namjoon x Secretary!Reader

You always thought he had two sides to him: the vicious, competent and calm lawyer that he was in the courtroom, and then the other was the cute, soft and shy boss that you had been working with for years. But there was a third side he had hidden from you- the deadly, violent, and cruel mafia that he was. Was it too late to resign now? Would he even ever let you leave?

Park Jimin x Detective!Reader

He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t have been a detective, you thought. From the moment you met and saved him back in the academy, you had never seen him other than the thin and weak man you met several years ago. From then on and until now that the two of you made it to being detectives, he had latched onto you and forged a strong friendship, regardless if you wanted to or not. He was weak and you were the stronger one. Well, that was what he made you believe. Park Jimin couldn’t be called weak, after all, he grew up in the mafia.

Kim Taehyung x Reporter!Reader

It all started when you, an investigative journalist, were forced to cover a charity event of the renowned actor, Kim Taehyung. For him, it all started even before that day. What could he do when you made him feel? Stalk and get you to give him the time of the day, of course. Or in which you made the clinically diagnosed psychopath who never once felt an emotion feel.

Jeon Jungkook x Wife!Reader

A marriage of convenience, you would say. A marriage of love, he would say. You thought you would marry an old and rich man. It turned out you would be marrying the Jeon Jungkook who turned out to be the kindest and sweetest man you had ever known, one who showered you with love and anything your heart desired. You lived in a fairytale, well- until you saw him unalived a man. And of course, you did the normal thing and ran.

Drabbles

🤍 MTL to let you go (Ko-Fi Exclusive)

#BTS FIC

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agustdakasuga · 11 months

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The Way Of A Criminal: Chapter 3

Genre: Mafia!AU, Criminal!AU, Angst, Romance

Pairing: OT7 x Reader

Characters: Normal!Reader, Gangster!Namjoon, Gangster!Seokjin, Gangster!Yoongi, Gangster!Hoseok, Gangster!Jimin, Gangster!Taehyung, Gangster!Jungkook

Summary: Your father was a stranger, you never knew who he was and what he did. But one day, someone knocks on your door, informing you of his passing. Now, you learn more about him, his life and the legacy you are expected to continue with the help of his 7 executives.

Story warning(s): This story will contain depictions of violence, blood shed/gore, death, mentions of abuse, smoking, alcohol drinking and gambling. This story is fictional and has nothing to do with real life events or the actual members of BTS. Please read at your own discretion.

As the car came to a stop, the passing university students stopped as well, staring at the luxurious sports car that just pulled up. Taehyung stepped out, removing his sunglasses and looking up at the campus.

“Who is that?”

“He’s so handsome!”

The girls fawned over him and even snapped pictures of him. But he couldn’t care less, they were not his focus now. He looked at his watch, mentally counting down the time. Just then, he spotted you walking out of the campus alone, right on time. He watched as your eyes widened in surprise upon spotting him and recognising him.

“W-What are you doing here?” You shrunk back, asking timidly.

“I’m here to take you to the law firm.” Taehyung stated with a friendly smile. He turned to walk back to his car and you stared at his receeding back, stunned for a few seconds.

“Hurry up.” He said. Finally, your brain connected with your legs and you ran forward to follow him. He opened the door for you to get into the passenger seat and you slid in quickly for him to close the door.

“Honestly, I thought it would take a lot more to get you into my car.” Taehyung chuckled as he buckled his seatbelt.

“Anything to get away from all the attention you created. So much for keeping a low profile.” You sighed with a shake of your head. Taehyung pursed his lips, not replying to your words.

“You didn’t need to come pick me up. I could have taken a bus or a cab.” You folded your arms. He just hummed, drumming his fingers on the steering wheel. After that, you didn’t attempt to make any contact or strike a conversation with him. You kept your gaze on the window.

RINGGGGG

“Hello?” Taehyung answered.

“Boss, there’s been an incident and we-”

“I thought I said that today’s my day off?” Taehyung replied, anger evident in his voice. He didn’t give the other person on the line a chance to reply before hanging up on them.

“Sorry about that!” He said to you. You just ignored him, eyes carefully shifting around the car. His phone sat in the cupholder beside his vape pen. You noticed a tarot card that was on the back of his phone.

‘The Hermit’

You didn’t know much about tarot cards or any fortune telling but for some reason, that card sent a shiver down your spine.

“We’re here.” Taehyung declared. You didn’t wait for him to open the door for you, getting out on his own when he was getting his stuff. You slung your bag over your shoulder and followed Taehyung into the building. He had his hands tucked into his pants pockets, continuing to hum to himself as he walked. You saw the 6 others there.

“Hey.” Namjoon greeted you. You stiffly bowed your head, not really wanting to have any niceties with them. An older male came out to greet all 8 of you, you guessed that it was the lawyer.

“All of you are here?” He asked, to which Namjoon nodded his head.

“Miss (y/l/n), it is a pleasure to meet you.” He did a full bow, shaking your hand respectfully. You awkwardly bowed back and shook his hand.

“Right this way.” The lawyer led all of you into the office. The 7 men made no moves, watching where you would sit before spreading themselves out on the rest of the available chairs.

“Here is my ID.” You handed your card to the lawyer, who verified your details. He handed it back to you after.

“Alright, this is the will right here. As stated and signed by Mr (y/f/n) (y/l/n), the house and 50% of his fortune is to be split amongst the 7 of you. The other 50% of his fortune as well as his CEO and owner position of Bangtan Enterprise and Exchange will go to his only child, Miss (y/n).” The lawyer read.

“Hang on. I know nothing about his business, why would he sign the rights over to me?” You asked. From the corner of your eye, you could tell the others in the room were just as shocked.

“Mr (y/l/n) did inform me that you might try to sign your inheritance away so he told me to give you this.” The lawyer slid something over to you.

“This...” Your eyes widened. Now, this handwriting, you recognised.

“(y/n) sshi?”

“C-Can we t-take a break?” You didn’t wait for them to reply, grasping the letter in your hand and running out of the room. You found a private toilet stall and entered. With shaky hands, you opened the letter.

‘My dear baby,

I’m sure this is confusing for you, having a letter from me, given to you with your father’s will. It probably also means that both your father and I are no longer around. You’ve been through a lot, baby. I’m sorry you have to deal with this all on your own. There’s so much I want to tell you, I wish I could have done it in person and not through this.

Baby, your father may shoulder all the blame for us splitting and him having to leave. But please understand that we agreed to separate for your safety.

Your father’s life isn’t easy and ultimately, he decided that it was best for him to leave. He didn’t want to see me worry over the fact that he may not return at the end of the day after work.

I know the two of us struggled and he could have reached out but he was just keeping his promise to me. I wanted you to have a normal childhood, to grow up like other children with no worry in the world.

You didn’t deserve to grow up, hidden from the world because we worried you may become a target. It wouldn’t be fair to you to live such a life you didn’t ask for.

The risk of him bringing danger with him also scared him. He couldn’t bear to risk being the reason you get hurt.

You’ve always asked me about him and I could never answer you properly, leading you to believe that he left us, that he abandoned you. I’m sorry I never had the proper answer, I never knew how to tell you. It was selfish and unfair to him to let you think he did something so cruel.

Now that you’re older, you can take over your father’s company. I believe that the 7 executives your father trained can guide you and protect you.

You can now live comfortably with no hardships, carry on your father’s legacy, his company that has been passed on to you. It’s time to stop worrying and to get out there. I’m sorry I’ve always held you back.

You don’t have to forgive him, you can be angry with me. But no matter what, I’ll always love you, baby. I don’t regret anything, I’m grateful you chose me to be your mother.

-Mom

The words soon became blurry as your tears obstructed your vision. This could very well be the last letter that your mother had written before she died. That also meant that she had met your father to give him this. You folded the letter and put it away, not wanting your tears to destroy it.

Everything from your mother is more precious to you than any amount of money. It was all you had left of her.

“(y/n) sshi, are you alright?” Namjoon was outside the bathroom, waiting for you.

“I’m fine.” You said shakily. Despite washing your face, your red eyes and nose gave away just how much you sobbed. You cleared your throat and Namjoon handed you a botle of water to drink.

“Thank you.” You opened the cap to take a sip.

“Do you want to continue with the lawyer? If not, we can call it a day and reschedule.” Namjoon offered.

“Rescheduling isn’t going to take away the fact that I feel like I have been lied to by everyone in my life. I don’t even know what to feel now.” You forcefully let out a bitter chuckle, clutching the letter in your hand.

“Is that letter from your mother?” Namjoon asked. You kept your head hung but nodded nonetheless. He didn’t say anything else, knowing that you needed time and space.

“I’m done. Let’s just get this over with.” You cleared your throat, walking back to the office.

“Sorry, let’s continue.” You slid back into your seat. The lawyer nodded, continuing to read the rest of the will. You now owned the primary rights to your father’s company and half of his fortune. The secondary rights to the company, the other half of his money and estate belonged to the 7 men. They were declared the new board of directors for the company.

“There is something else. But it is not here. We safe deposit boxes here and your father has one with artefacts from him and your mother inside.” The lawyer said as he finished reading the will.

“Okay.” You stood up. The lawyer led you to the basement of the building, where there were security guards guarding all the safety deposit boxes.

“This is it.” The lawyer gestured.

“Open it then.” You spoke.

“Unfortunately, Miss (y/n), I do not have the combination to open this box.” He bowed his head. You turned to the 7 that stood behind you but they also looked at each other in confusion, some shrugging.

“All he told me that you would know the combination because it is the date of his regret.” The lawyer said to you. You immediately knew what he was talking about. You chewed on your lip as you stepped forward, keying in a code.

BEEP BEEP

The lock released and you opened the box.

“What was the date?” Taehyung asked. But you heard a sound, like someone had hit him for asking because you could hear him wince right after.

“It’s the date he left my mom and I.” You replied, carefully retrieving the box and other items from inside the metal locker. You placed the box onto the table while the others helped you remove the other items inside the locker. Opening the box, you saw your parents’ wedding rings inside.

The other items that were not in the box was your parents’ wedding album and a copy of your baby book. There were many letters your mother had written to your father and photos she had sent him of you.

“C-Can I go home, please? I just n-need to go h-home.” You asked, fingers trailing over your mother’s face.

“Of course.” Jin said.

“I’ll take you back.” You didn’t protest when Taehyung escorted you to his car to send you home, you were too deep in thought.

“Thanks.” You piled everything in your hands carefully.

“Take this. I know you wouldn’t want to but if you need someone to talk to.” Taehyung placed a paper with his number on top of the stack of items you were carrying. You just looked at it, no expression on your face.

“Bye.” He said. You got out of the car, a distant look in your eyes. Taehyung watched entering your house and shut the door.

“It never gets easy.” Taehyung said, looking at your closed door. For some reason, he hesitated starting the engine again and driving back home.

But what could he do? You wouldn’t want him comforting you.

You put the things aside, it was too much to look at now. Both your brain and heart were hurting. As you went to your room, you passed by your mother’s room. Your hand rest on the door knob but you couldn’t bring yourself to open the door, as if there was a confrontation going to happen. Were you supposed to be feeling betrayed and/or lied to?

“I can’t do this.” You shut your eyes. With a heavy heart, your hand slipped from the door knob and you walked into your room.

“I spent my whole life hating him...” You knew they were both dead and nothing you did now would change anything but it still left a bitter taste in your mouth. There was a lot of guilt and regret clouding your mind.

Falling onto your bed, you drew your knees to your chest. You were at a lost of what to do now. The plan was just to move on, not be involved in the aftermath of your father’s life.

But this changed everything.

“So you knew that boss signed the company over to her? When were you going to tell us?” When Taehyung arrived home, he heard the slightly heated conversation that was going on between the others.

“Would telling you guys in advance change anything?” Namjoon sighed. He was at the center of the questions and outrage now.

“It at least gives us a heads up, Namjoon ah. This is why you wanted her to start being comfortable around us, isn’t it? Because sooner or later, she is going to be our boss.” Jin finally realised. He could never really be angry with Namjoon’s action, he trusted him wholeheartedly as the leader. Namjoon nodded his head.

“As the new boss, she could easily just dissolve the company. Everything we and boss worked so hard to build is in the hands of someone who has no knowledge about any of this.” Jungkook said.

“True. Not forgetting that she hates him.” Hoseok chimed in.

“Let’s see what she does, okay? That letter the lawyer gave her was from her mother. She’s going through a lot. Give her some space.” Taehyung spoke.

“Oh, Tae. We didn’t even notice you were back. How was she?” Jimin asked, taking a sip of his drink. Taehyung shrugged off his jacket and sat down beside Jimin on the couch.

“She’s going through a lot. She doesn’t hide her emotions well and you can tell, there is a look of betrayal in her eyes.” Taehyung stated.

“Namjoon hyung, you really don’t know what was in that letter?” Jungkook asked with suspicion.

“Of course not. That letter was written by her mother. I’m sure even boss didn’t know what was in that letter. He just passed it along to the lawyer, as per instructed by her.” Namjoon scoffed.

“Also, don’t forget. We’re the board of directors now, if she wants to dissolve the company, we can fight it.” He added.

As the impromptu meeting broke apart and the boys parted ways, Yoongi looked at all of them. They were so busy fussing over you that none of them actually had time to grieve over the death of their boss, who was practically a father figure to all of them.

Emotions were high and tension was starting to form. Yoongi knew the boys needed to mourn together, not drive each other away. With a desolated sigh, he refilled his whiskey glass and went to his room.

“Hyung, you okay?” Jungkook gently pushed open the door. Yoongi turned around, fingers retracting from the pristine white grand piano.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Yoongi replied gruffly.

“You were awfully quiet downstairs, even more than usual. And you had that look on your face. That look when you know something bad is going to happen.” Jungkook said.

“That’s nonsense, Jungkook.” Yoongi shook his head, cracking a small smile. He took a swig of his whiskey, placing the glass back on top of the piano.

“Well, you usually prefer not to say anything just to do the whole ‘I told you so’ at the end.” He shrugged.

“I do like doing that, it’s fun. But this time, nothing bad is going to happen, Kook. Don’t worry. We’re gonna stick together, like we always do.” Yoongi turned back to his piano. Jungkook looked at the back of his older brother. Seeing that Yoongi was getting back to his piano, he pursed his lips before closing the door.

“I hope you’re right, hyung.” He sighed. He massaged his hands as he walked to his room. But he couldn’t rest or sit still. Instead, he got up and went to his fight club.

Maybe some sparring will help him release his pent up energy.

The moment the meeting ended, Jimin drove to his club, wanting to get away and be alone. When he appeared at his club, everyone inside stopped what they were doing to bow to him respectfully.

“Boss.” They all lined up. He did not acknowledge anyone, going straight to the bar. They snuck glances at him, wondering why he was here so early and what he was doing here. He had already said it was his day off and that no one should disturb him so they were not expecting him at all.

“We’re not opening tonight.” He declared as he selected the bottles he wanted. The staff around him looked at each other, unsure of what to do.

“B-But sir, the president’s son booked a booth and-”

“Did I stutter?” His tone was low and threatening.

“Of course not, boss. Understood, we won’t open.” The manager was the first to step forward, pushing the hostess behind him, a silent sign to not say another word to the boss.

“Get out. Don’t bother me.” He grabbed two bottles of hard alcohol, one whiskey and another dark rum. Without another word, he went upstairs to his usual area that overlooked the club. Not even VIPs were allowed in there.

“I drink to you, boss. No... Father.” Jimin poured the first glass, lifting it up then gulping it down in one go.

He watched as the manager was hurriedly getting the other staff out of the club, leaving only him. When Jimin says get out, he means it, everyone out. And no one wanted to incur the wrath of a Bangtan executive. Jimin owned this place, he could do whatever he wanted.

Who needs feelings and emotions when you could drown them out in alcohol? He didn’t care that he might lose this place if you dissolve the company, it was just a building.

He only feared that he might lose purpose. What was he supposed to do? Where was he supposed to go? This life was all he knew. Your father trained each other them to be a pillar of the company.

“You’re weak, Jimin ah. Letting an outsider dictate your fate.” He said to his reflection. Taking a cigarette out, he lit it with the lighter around his neck.

Series Masterlist

Ko-Fi

Main masterlist

480 notes · View notes

kawaikisses · 5 months

Text

m.list ; Reading list.

Updated. Jan 22, 2024.

Note : I read k-pop idols x reader/ orginal female character fics, so this list is organized keeping that in mind, I do not personally have any issues with other genders, this is just my preference. Thankyou. If you hate unnecessarily, sincerely, no fucks will be given.

(everything is organized by alphabetical order)

↬𝐁𝐘 𝐆𝐄𝐍𝐑𝐄.

angst .

fluff .

smut .

↬𝐁𝐘 𝐀𝐔’𝐒.

artist au .

arranged marriage au .

assassin au .

baker au .

bartender au .

BDSM au .

best friend’s brother au .

best friends to lovers au .

best friend’s sister au .

boyfriend au .

camboy au .

camgirl au .

camp counselor au .

CEO au .

chef au .

childhood friends to lovers au .

club au .

college au .

coworker au .

crime au .

dad au .

doctor au .

dancer au .

detective au .

divorce au .

enemies to lovers au .

established relationship au .

exes to lovers au .

fantasy au .

farm au .

father au .

friends to benefits au .

friends to lovers au .

fuckboy au .

fuckgirl au .

forbidden au .

gamer au .

god au .

hitman au .

horror au .

husband au .

hybrid au .

idiots to lovers au .

idol au .

king au .

lawyer au .

mafia au .

magic au .

medical au .

musician au .

neighbours au .

noona au .

one night stand au .

photographer au .

pirates au .

professor au .

prince au .

rich au .

road trip au .

roommate au .

royalty au .

second chance au .

secret relationship au .

sex worker au .

single parent au .

social media au .

songwriter au .

soulmate au .

spy au .

superhero au .

supernatural au .

tattoo artist au .

teacher au .

unrequited love au .

vampire au .

werewolf au .

wife au .

↬𝐁𝐘 𝐌𝐄𝐌𝐁𝐄𝐑𝐒.

kim namjoon .

kim seokjin .

min yoongi .

jung hoseok .

park jimin .

kim taehyung .

jeon jungkook .

ot7 .

↬𝐁𝐘 𝐓𝐘𝐏𝐄.

drama .

hurt/comfort .

magic .

mutual pining .

mystery .

romance .

slow burn .

thriller .

age play .

crack .

Note : please let me know if any of the links are not working. Thankyou.

Note : since Tumblr only allows 100 links per page, so this list will be continued in another page, which is linked down below.

↬masterlist continued .

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kpopfanfictrash · 6 months

Text

The Horrible Un-Haunting of Elliot House

Author: kpopfanfictrash

Genre: Ghost!AU / Romance / Comedy (?)

Pairing: Seokjin / Reader (she/her)

Synopsis: Some houses are harder to sell than others but you, Y/N, are determined to find the (supposedly) haunted Elliot House a new owner. That is, until it's very real and very hot exceedingly well-dressed ghost decides to make himself known. If only you didn't find yourself enjoying the knowing.

Rating: PG-13 (kissing but nothing beyond that)

Word Count: 6,214

Author's Note: hope you enjoy this random Halloween "drabble"! This got oddly angsty? I suppose that happens with ghost love LOL

[ Cross-Posted to Wattpad ]

“Through here,” you say, leading the Gundersons through an arched door. “You’ll find the most adorable sunroom.”

The Gundersons both gasp, appropriately awed by the tall walls of windows. Each panel is topped with stained glass, casting colorful patterns across the checkered floor. Technically, the sunroom isn’t part of the original house – it was added in 1975 during a brief period the address was owned by a cult – but you rarely disclose this fact during tours. Most people don’t care which parts of the house are original, so long as they can say they bought a 19th century Tudor.

Not that you blame them. Most people (or at least, sane people) appreciate the romanticism of an old structure without actually wanting to live in one. Modern amenities are the top benefit of progress, after all. The government couldn’t pay you to live without modern heating, plumbing, or refrigeration.

“Margaret, did you see?” Arthur Gunderson, a slightly rotund lawyer, and husband of said Margaret, gestures emphatically. “I’ll be damned if this stained glass isn’t Tiffany! See there, see that stamp in the corner?”

“Good eye, sir!” you chirp, barely glancing up from your clipboard.

Truthfully, you aren’t sure whether the glass is authentic. The cult that installed could hardly be called profitable (they sold the house at a loss after less than ten years, although this likely had more to do with crimes committed on said property than their income, but you digress), so you’d be hard-pressed to believe they could afford real Tiffany.

If this is what convinces the Gundersons to buy though, you’re hardly a realtor to look a gift horse in the mouth.

Ticking a box in the upper right corner – sunroom – you look up. “Right, well. That’s most of the lower level.” Pivoting on your heel, you head towards the corridor. “If you two will follow me upstairs, we can –”

“What’s that?”

Steps slowing, you stare at the plaster wall. A moment passes, then two before you convince yourself to turn around. When you see where Arthur Gunderson points, a relieved breath leaves your lips.

“Oh, that?” Floorboards squeak as you cross the room, sounding almost like laughter. “That’s the cellar. I’d offer you a look but unfortunately, the staircase isn’t quite up to code. You’ll need someone to look at that ASAP if you buy.”

Hovering at the wooden door, you grasp its bronze knob and pull. Tugging the cord for the light, you briefly scan the stairs but spot nothing unusual. Mostly convinced, you dutifully step aside.

“Feel free to look,” you say brightly.

The Gundersons crowd the landing you vacated.

“Careful, honey,” Arthur warns, holding Margaret’s elbow. “These stairs are steep.”

Standing on tiptoe, Margaret peers beyond him into the basement gloom. It could be your imagination, but she almost seems disappointed. A few cobwebs and shadows line the staircase, but nothing more sinister.

Hiding a smile, you check the next box. Cellar. Sometimes, people request to see this house not because they’re interested in buying it, but for the thrill. Entering the haunted Elliot house and surviving will make a great tale to tell their friends over cocktails.

Lowering your clipboard, you glance upward. So far, everything has gone to plan, which is partly the problem. You must’ve shown this house thirty times and always, something has gone wrong by now. Before being assigned its realtor, you believed in the paranormal, but only in a theoretical way. Not because you’d witnessed anything spectral.

Your opinions since then have changed.

Turning sharply, you plaster a smile on your face. “Shall we?”

Stepping back, Margaret pulls wiry frames from her jacket pocket. “I must admit,” she says with an embarrassed laugh. “Based on what our last realtor said, I was expecting far worse from this property.”

Although your smile tightens, you nod. The other realtor had a point – Elliot house could be temperamental, at best. Downright petulant, at worst. You glare again at the ceiling.

“We get that a lot,” you say, ushering them down the hall. Best not to linger. “Whenever a house sits too long on the market, you know – people talk. Lots of rumors!”

“Oh, sure,” Arthur says, passing you with a chuckle. “We’re not superstitious, don’t worry.”

“Oh?” you say lightly, remaining behind. “That’s good to know. Now, if you head down the hall, you’ll reach the foyer. All the crown molding you pass is original. The house’s first owner and builder, Daniel Baker, was something of a craftsman. He –”

Abruptly, you cease talking and stare at the stairwell. Halfway down the steps, where before there was nothing, sits a perfectly ripe orange. Eyes narrowed, you stare at this a long beat before yanking the light cord down and shutting the door.

Glancing upward, you hiss, “Not today, I swear to – well, whatever hellish being you worship.”

The wind sounds almost like laughter, but you don’t stick around long enough to find out if that’s true. Shaking your head, you traipse down the front hall in search of the Gundersons. Luckily, they’re too busy taking pictures of the aforementioned crown molding to have noticed your absence.

“Shall we?” you say, gesturing at the front stairs.

Pocketing their phones, they begin their ascent. You wait at the bottom, giving them space to discuss the house. From personal experience, buyers tend to appreciate when you don’t hover.

Besides, the grand staircase is your favorite feature – equal parts artwork and functionality. From your place at its bottom, you admire the craftsmanship. Starting the climb, your fingertips skim whorls in the wood and for a second, you feel a phantom hand rest over yours.

Scowling darkly, you yank your palm away. Reaching the landing, you clutch at your clipboard tighter and walk forward.

“This way!” you say, practically shoving the Gundersons into the first bedroom.

While they ooh and ah about the bay windows, you tick another box on your spreadsheet. Master bedroom.

The second you’re done, the pen slips from your grasp and hovers in mid-air. It then turns, point-down, to scrawl something in the margin.

‘Master’ bedroom? Kiiind of racist, don’t you think?

Teeth gritted, you snatch your pen back. “I wasn’t the one who created the spreadsheet, okay?” you whisper. “And while, yes, I agree, and other realtors are moving away from that language, I don’t–”

“Pardon?” Arthur Gunderson peers, confused, over his shoulder.

Somewhat manic, you smile. “Oh, nothing,” you say, the words sounding high-pitched, even to you. “I was just reminding myself to show you the main bathroom. Beautiful claw-foot tub.”

“Oh. Sure,” says Arthur, returning to his wife.

Head whipping sideways, you glare at the most likely place Seokjin would be. A chuckle drifts past your ear on the other side, and your scowl deepens.

Once an appropriate amount of time goes by, you usher the Gundersons into the next bedroom. Hovering outside, you calculate how quickly you can convince them to leave. The longer they stay, the worse the so-called haunting will be.

You should have known better than to show them this house, but they were insistent. Or at least, Arthur was. Margaret seems reasonably paranoid, which you deem a positive quality. Everyone within a hundred-mile radius has heard of the haunted Elliot house.

Even the name is confusing, since it doesn’t bear the name of its builder, Daniel Baker, nor its longest resident, Mr. Josiah Whitley. Instead, it’s named for Nathaniel Elliot, the cult leader who murdered a man on its premises in 1978. Obviously, this fact wasn’t known to the public until after the cult sold the house and moved far away.

Eventually, Mr. Elliot was tried and found guilty of murder, but this was much later. Wincing a little, you glance at the ceiling. Seokjin has said many times that ghosts can’t read minds, but you wouldn’t put it past him to lie for a punchline. Even if he can’t read your mind, the faint scent of cedar lets you know he’s nearby.

Quickening your stride, you show the Gundersons the next bedroom. “This is one of my favorites,” you say, pulling hard on its warped door. “The view from that window is stunning. You can see all the way to the brook!”

Taking the bait, Margaret crosses the room. “Oh, look, Arthur!” she exclaims, leaning forward. “There’s a gazebo!”

He follows at a more leisurely pace, frowning when he spots a lone cobweb in the corner. Sighing, you swipe at this as you pass, almost certain the web wasn’t there this morning.

While the two converse, you pull out your clipboard and run down the list again.

Most days at your job are like today – running down lists and waiting for other people to make their own life decisions. Becoming a realtor wasn’t so much a choice as it was thrust upon you. When your mom got sick your senior year of grad school, you returned to take care of her and finished your coursework remotely.

There were only so many jobs with flexible hours, and you ended up getting your realtor’s license to support her on the side. When your mom passed, you stuck around to sort out her paperwork and affairs. Two years later, everything is in order and still, you remain. Stuck in a holding pattern, showing houses and too afraid to try your hand at anything different.

BANG.

The sudden noise from above plunges the room into silence. Both Arthur and Margaret swivel, wide eyes landing on you.

Margaret’s glasses chain trembles. “What was tha–”

“My assistant,” you blurt, backing towards the door. “He mentioned he would stop by to drop off some keys. That must be him – I’ll go and check!”

“But…” Arthur stares. “The noise came from above.”

“Be right back!” you call, stepping into the hall.

As fast as possible without raising suspicion, you rush down the hall. “Seokjin,” you hiss, hand skimming the banister as you descend. “Stop that right now!”

No one responds – not that you thought he would. Crossing the foyer, you reach the cellar door and yank it open. Flicking the overhead light, you see the orange has disappeared. Rolling your eyes, you shut the door.

“This isn’t funny,” you huff out loud to no one.

Far above you, a low groan shakes the house. Honestly, it sounds more sexual than scary, but you suppose that only makes it more sinister. Reaching the foyer, you slow your pace and set down your clipboard. Suppressing a sigh, you glance at the clock. This has happened enough times that you can predict things to the minute.

Crossing your arms, you tap your foot and count down in your head.

One – increased groaning. Sometimes from the cellar, often the attic and, during one memorable visit, from behind a locked bathroom door.

Two – shuffling feet while the Gundersons (insert buyer’s name here) debate whether to run or wait it out. They hastily whisper, wondering if it’s their minds playing tricks.

Third – laughter. Seokjin will say it sounds lilting but to you, his laughter is more akin to a car’s windshield wipers. Today, said laughter drifts from the main bedroom, immediately followed by the Gundersons’ screaming.

Directly above you, Margaret’s heels pound wooden floors. Wincing, you make a mental reminder to buff the scuffs from the wood.

“ARTHUR!” she calls, her voice pitching upward.

“Right behind you!” he bellows.

When the lights in the foyer flicker, you lean against the grand railing. In your experience, there’s nothing you can do now to save the showing. As soon as Seokjin reveals himself, it’s only a matter of time.

“Whoooo dareeessss to disturrrrrb meeeee!” he wails, and you try not to laugh. “This is MYYYY homeeee and you are nooooot welcomeeeee! OoOOOOooooOOo!”

Arthur is first down the stairs. Reluctantly, you step forward – as their realtor, you’ll try to calm them down and get them out. All part of the plan. What’s not part of the plan is Arthur’s blind panic, elbowing you – hard – in the stomach as he runs past.

Concaving, you stumble, your foot catching on a loose floorboard as you fall backwards. Suddenly, a pink cushion slides between you and the floor. You land in the middle of it, shocked but unharmed.

Arthur yanks open the front door. “You!” he blurts, whipping around to point. Blinking, you fight the urge to glance over your shoulder. “Yes, you,” he scoffs, spittle flying as Margaret runs past. “I don’t know if this is your idea of a sick joke or what, but your manager will be hearing from me!”

Before you can formulate a response, Arthur is out the front door. You hear the sound of their car starting, exhaust billowing behind them as they speed down the street.

Propping yourself on one elbow, you release a sigh. The house has fallen silent, almost sheepish in its total lack of sound. Head lolling back, you glare at the ceiling.

“You are so annoying,” you groan, well-aware you sound crazy. “I honestly don’t know what you’re looking for, Seokjin. The Gundersons were fine.”

The front door slams.

An outline of a person materializes between you and the living room, seeming composed of dust motes and sunshine. Turning your glare in their direction, you tap your fingers against the oak floor.

Seokjin solidifies fully, rakishly leaning against the paneled wall. He’s dressed in the same navy three-piece suit he wore when he died, albeit with his hair styled in this century’s fashion. Seokjin once said ghosts are able to change their appearance, but most choose not to. There’s little point to it, and it wastes precious energy.

Sadly, he shakes his head. “See, that’s where you’re wrong,” Seokjin says, his deep timbre resonating through floorboards beneath you.

“Show off,” you mutter.

Lips twitching, he crooks a finger. The foyer light ceases to flicker, and Seokjin straightens. Dusting invisible dust from his shoulders, he walks forward.

“The Gundersons were tiresome,” he says. “I would’ve been bored of them in months, started haunting again, and this house would’ve gone right back on the market. Really, I saved you trouble in the long run. You can thank me later.”

“Oh, no,” you deadpan. “Two commissions on the same property. What a horrible fate.”

“Exactly. You’re welcome.”

Fighting an eye roll, you push yourself upward with cushion in hand. At least Seokjin was kind enough to break your fall, even if he caused the circumstances which led to it in the first place.

Brushing the dirt from the cushion, you shake your head. “You do know that eventually, someone will buy this house and you’ll have to make peace with that fact. Right?”

When Seokjin doesn’t immediately respond, you look up. His dark gaze lingers a second longer than necessary, briskly looking away when he catches you watching.

“I know,” Seokjin says, turning around. “Might I point out though, that I don’t have to make peace with anything. Ghost,” he adds, pointing at himself. “Not making peace with things is our bread and butter.”

“People have owned this house before, though.”

“Boring people,” Seokjin mutters.

“That didn’t seem to bother you back then!”

Seokjin enters the living room. “Ugh,” he groans, dropping onto a chaise. Dust motes spiral around him, as though he were solid. “If I must be trapped on the material plane, Y/N, the least the material plane could do is provide some entertainment. And the lovemaking of two seventy-year-olds doesn’t count,” he adds, fixing you with a glare.

Stifling laughter, you follow him into the parlor. Fluffing the cushion, you replace it on its chair and survey the room. Seokjin lounges dramatically and it could be your imagination, but he almost looks solid. More so than the first time you met, anyways.

He nearly scared the shit out of you, back then. Everyone at the firm warned you this house was haunted but were purposefully vague on the supernatural. The warnings they gave you were borderline mundane.

Oh, yeah, that house has been on the market forever. People say that it’s haunted, but I’d honestly be more worried about rats. Or asbestos – popcorn ceilings didn’t age well for a reason. And I don’t know if it’s true, but I heard a convict once lived in the basement for three months before the cops caught him. Watch out for that!

You entered this house with more than your usual trepidation, pepper spray in one hand and a flashlight in the other. Apparently, the wiring wasn’t all up to code – something you’ve since rectified with the city.

The sound of the door creak could’ve been written by the Brothers Grimm themselves, textbook gothic. Your flashlight swept over dusty floors, faint footprints remaining to remind you of its past. Spine steeled, you forced yourself to continue.

Finding a light switch, you flicked upward, and the chandelier came to life. The lighting was dim, barely enough to see by on a rainy day. Keeping your flashlight, you wandered into the parlor and came to a sudden stop. Forest green wallpaper lined the walls, remarkably intact for its age. Stunned, you turned in a slow circle.

Moody maximalism was one of your favorite design styles, and this room was made for it. With a slightly better attitude, you resumed your walk-through, discovering a hidden cupboard in the kitchen and a dumbwaiter to nowhere. The second-floor entry point had been boarded up, but that could be rectified.

Some of the woodwork of the house was scuffed, and a few corners held fallen leaves, but overall, it was in great condition. None of the realtors had prepared you for that – you arrived expecting a war zone and were pleasantly surprised.

On the second floor, you found a library – or what had once been the library, given the shelving was empty – that made you audibly gasp. Blue-black custom shelves extended along three of the walls. Closer to the door, a bright square of color remained from where a painting had hung.

Curious, your fingers traced the edges. “This place is unreal,” you murmured to yourself.

“I know, right?” said a voice directly in your ear.

Like any sane person, you screamed and jumped skyward. Your flashlight fell, its beam rolling over and over until it hit a baseboard. You didn’t stick around to find out, turning fast on your heel and bolting into the hall.

Thundering down the front stairs – wincing as the wood groaned – you nearly reached the foyer when Seokjin appeared.

“Boo,” he said calmly, between you and the door.

Coming to a shuddering halt, your hand gripped the railing. The ghost was impeccably dressed, if slightly invisible, and raised a dark brow in response to your flight.

Gaze darting sideways, you sought a second exit but all you could recall was the cellar and that wasn’t an option. Years of training from watching scary movies kicked in at that point, and you slowly straightened. Running away would do nothing – a ghost could follow you anywhere – so, maybe reasoning with him would be the best option.

“What do you want?” you asked, masking your fear to plant both hands on your hips. “Who are you?”

Surprise flared in his – admittedly attractive – gaze. Some of the shock had worn off by then, and you could admit to yourself (if to no one else) that the ghost before you was hot. Even thinking this felt ridiculous, and you wondered if your already-fragile grasp on reality was slipping.

Taking a single step forward, the ghost cocked his head. When you stumbled back, his lip quirked, and he appeared by your side.

“Who am I?” he mused, walking in a slow circle. “Awfully strange to ask me that, when I’m the person that died here, and you’ve never stepped foot in this house until now. I would know.”

Started, you turned your head.

This was a mistake since it allowed you to see every ridge of his features. The rounded tip of his nose, his enviably full lips, and a curve to his jawline which could likely cut glass.

Forcing your gaze upward, you found him focused on you. “You… died here?” you asked before you could think better.

His lips thinned. “You know, it’s very rude to ask a ghost how they died. It’s personal.”

“Oh,” you said. “Sorry, I didn’t know.”

“You didn’t ask,” the ghost replied with a sigh.

Your eyes narrowed, hearing barely hidden laughter in his tone. This ghost was making fun of you. The audacity!

Incensed by this, you lifted your chin. “Wouldn’t asking you whether it’s polite to ask about death be asking you about death, though?”

“Fair enough.” He shrugged, slipping both hands in his pockets. “There really isn’t a good way for you to bring up that conversation.”

A laugh escaped, despite yourself.

His gaze flickered, as though oddly pleased. Quickly, the ghost scanned you from your shoes to your face, where he lingered.

“I’m curious,” he mused, resuming his walk in a circle.

Despite your discomfort, you forced yourself to stay still. Even though you could feel each place his gaze lingered – your shoulders, your collarbone, tacing the slope of your cheekbones.

“What are you curious about?” you asked, pushing the words past your lips.

He stopped between you and the door again. Slipping both hands from his pockets, he crossed his arms over his chest. The way his biceps strained against his suit was intriguing, implying there was something to strain against. Dimly, you wondered what a ghost’s gym routine looked like.

Your lips twitched at the thought, and the ghost scowled.

“Stop that,” he commanded. “You should be terrified. I was curious about why you haven’t run yet. Anyone else would’ve by now.”

“Would they?”

“Based on my experience, yes.” He tilted his head. “This is the first time I’ve introduced myself to someone and they stayed. Well,” he amended through teeth. “Stayed without crucifixes, holy water, and a priest.”

“Does that really work?” you wondered, genuinely curious.

“Does what work – exorcism?”

You nodded.

“Clearly not.” He waved a hand down his body. “At least, not in my case. When I first died, I wanted to move on. I was even excited when the first priest arrived, but he did nothing, and neither did the next one… eventually, I stopped hoping. Started haunting, instead.”

“Well, sure,” you said, dazed.

His lips twitched. “My name is Seokjin, by the way. Not that you asked.”

“That was literally one of the first things I asked!”

Ignoring this, Seokjin stuck out his hand. “And you are?”

“Y/N,” you said, ignoring the impossibility of what you were about to attempt while extending your palm. “Nice to meet you.”

Your hands met in the middle and, instead of passing through, you felt your palms brush. For a moment, you touched calluses and warm skin, smelling the faint scent of cloves.

Seokjin went utterly still.

Chin jerking down, he stared at your joined hands. “That’s… never happened before.”

Retracting swiftly, you said the first thought that came to mind. “What? Never touched a woman?”

Scowling, he retracted his hand as well. “I was thirty when I died, Y/N. Not thirteen.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you muttered, then paused. “You… haven’t been able to touch anyone since you died?”

“Things, yes. People, no.” A thoughtful look crossed his face. “A psychic visited me once. The owners at that time brought her, wanting to see if she could get rid of me.” Seokjin snorted. “She got them to pay her, then said, ‘No.’ Hilarious. And interesting,” he added. “She told me she’d met other ghosts, ones that could interact. Never seemed to work for me, though.”

You blinked, unsure how to respond. For it being your first encounter with the supernatural, nothing about this had gone as imagined. You weren’t sure how to converse with a ghost who, for all intents and purposes, seemed fairly normal.

Except for the whole ‘being dead’ part.

“Well.” You shrugged. “There’s a first time for everything, I guess.”

His expression remained inscrutable, but for the faintest of seconds, you thought Seokjin looked intrigued. After a moment, he moved closer and leaned in. You caught the faintest whiff of orange, cloves, and cedar on what could have been his breath.

“I suppose there is,” he murmured, and then disappeared.

Since then, Seokjin has appeared each time you returned. The second time, you were halfway convinced your first visit was a hallucination. A theory Seokjin seemed content to feed into, refusing to show himself until you were about to leave. Then, he jumped through the hall closet to yell, “MUTINY!” and cement his presence in your mind.

Seokjin doesn’t dress the same every time. A few weeks into your friendship (if one can call it that), he informed you he could change his appearance but hadn’t done it much. It took energy to appear on the mortal pane, more so if his appearance was altered.

Still, you’ve learned Seokjin will do pretty much anything to commit to a bit. His brand of haunting tends to border on comical. Putting his arms on backwards, headless juggling, vomiting wine – really anything is fair game if not truly grotesque. By now, you’ve seen his whole gambit, which is how you can say today’s performance was lackluster.

Sprawled on the chaise, one foot dangling, Seokjin looks every bit of the tragic lothario. Again, you can’t help but wonder whether he’s gained permanence since the last time you saw him. You could almost swear the chaise sinks under the weight of his frame.

“What is it?” he demands, lazily pushing himself upward.

Something in your chest flutters, although you ignore it. Arms crossed, you fix him with a look of disdain. It’s sinful for Seokjin to look as good as he does – and the worst part is, you know it’s not an illusion.

After you met the third time, you Googled his name along with the house and found multiple hits. Seokjin Kim was killed on October 31st, 1978, by Nathanial Elliot, the leader of the Sunny Days cult. Both Seokjin’s parents joined two years prior, and he’d tried unsuccessfully to convince them to leave by mail and phone.

Eventually, he visited in person and convinced them to go – unfortunately, Nathanial caught wind of the situation and killed Seokjin before this could happen. You saw photos of Seokjin from then and can confirm he was always devastatingly handsome. Often, you’ve wondered if he left someone behind – a wife or a girlfriend – but can’t bring yourself to ask. You aren’t sure which answer would hurt more.

Regardless, you know Seokjin was missed. His parents were the ones who took down the Sunny Days cult, putting their leader behind bars for killing their son. Seokjin admitted once that they tried to tear this house down. They didn’t know he was tied to the grounds, and he didn’t want to tell them. It would’ve been harder for them to move on, he explained, and your heart broke a little.

Not long after that, you accidentally let it slip that Seokjin had a scent. It made him howl with laughter, nearly falling down the front stairs – not that this would’ve hurt him. From then on, Seokjin showed off his growing ability to move solid objects by leaving oranges for you in the house whenever you came. Only another of his practical jokes but lately, it’s made your skin hot to think of.

You realized you felt more than you should for him last month when he saved you from falling. Determined to clear out the cellar, your entire foot went through the first step and Seokjin pulled you to safety.

“Careful,” he murmured, one arm wrapped around your waist. Gently, he eased you backwards and onto the landing. “The top step is rotted through. You’ll need to call in someone to fix that.”

Unable to speak, you nodded and quickly disentangled. Each place he had touched, your skin tingled, and not at all unpleasantly. Since that day, your feelings have only worsened. Sometimes, you wonder if he knows.

Sometimes you wonder whether he feels the same, no matter how hopeless it is.

Heaving a great sigh, Seokjin stands from the couch. Lifting both arms, he stretches this way and that like an overgrown cat. The end of his shirt comes untucked, displaying a flat strip of skin you refuse to acknowledge.

Forcing your gaze to his face, you lift a single brow. Weeks after meeting, you considered Seokjin your friend, or at least an acquaintance. Now, you can’t call this friendship, but not because things between you have worsened. It’s because the more time you spend together, the more you find yourself wishing for something impossible. Something more.

“You know what,” you tell him. “There’s no need to scare off every potential buyer.”

Seokjin pauses, then lowers his arms. “There’s a need when they’re terrible. I’m the one forced to live with them for eternity, not you.”

“It’s not an eternity, though,” you tried to joke. “Eventually, they’ll die – or, so one would presume.”

Seokjin’s face hardens. Before you can take another breath, he’s standing before you. “Much better,” he says, his voice like steel. “I love being reminded that, while the world continues to age around me, I never will. I’ll simply stay on this godforsaken plot of land until the earth is destroyed by its own inhabitants. How long do you think that’ll take, Y/N? One decade? Two?”

Eyes wide, you stare at him in shock.

Seokjin has never spoken to you like this before. Usually, he’s far more cavalier about his reality, easily accepting the fact that he’s a ghost. Never once has he ranted about the world passing by. In fact, Seokjin frequently throws in your face that you’ll soon have more wrinkles than him.

For the first time, you wonder if all that is a front. If perhaps, deep down, all his lackadaisicalness is merely a cover for a deeper kind of fear.

Slowly, you move closer. “I didn’t mean to be dismissive,” you murmur. “Of course, I don’t want you to be forced to live with people you hate. I just meant…”

You trail off, uncertain and Seokjin’s face softens. He moves even closer, his scent comforting you in a way you can’t explain. In a way it shouldn’t be.

“I’ll never get used to this,” you sigh.

You aren’t sure why you’re speaking so softly. Possibly due to his proximity and possibly due to the look in his eyes, studying you as though you’re the impossibility, and not him. Dust motes trail through the air when Seokjin lifts a hand.

With bated breath, you watch as he reaches towards you. At the last second, he shifts and lightly brushes your jaw.

Sharply, you inhale because you feel it. You feel him.

“Seokjin,” you whisper. “What are you…”

Gently shushing, he leans in, and you feel his breath, feather-light, across your skin. Utterly shocked, you go still. It’s his breath that you feel. Breath that shouldn’t exist, according to logic.

Slowly, his gaze drops and stays on your lips. If Seokjin can’t read minds, he must hear your heart racing. The sound of it is all-consuming, drowning out rational thought.

“You want to know what I’m waiting for?” he murmurs, his gaze lifting. “I’m waiting for someone to look at this… house the way you do.”

“A lot of people have liked the house, Seokjin. People who –”

“I don’t want you to sell this house."

Startled, you stop. “Why not?”

His expression twists, revealing his vulnerability. “I think you know.”

Roughly, you exhale.

Yes. You do know. It’s the same reason you’ve half-assed the last six showings at this address. It’s why you keep people from looking, and when they insist, barely attempt to stifle Seokjin’s shenanigans. You could have come earlier today and requested Seokjin to be on good behavior. He would have done it. For you, he would have.

Which is exactly why you didn’t ask.

“I… want to hear you say it,” you say, so low, you’re surprised that he hears.

Achingly slow, Seokjin’s hand slips from your jaw to your neck. When he pulls you closer, you can feel the weight of his hand, the solid pressure that comes from his fingers on your skin.

Your eyes flutter shut.

“I don’t want you to go,” Seokjin murmurs, his lips close to your ear. “If someone else buys this house, you’d stop showing it. You wouldn’t come here again, and I can’t leave these grounds. If someone else buys this place” – his breath hitches – “I won’t see you again. I can stomach eternity, Y/N, but not without you.”

“Seokjin.” His name leaves your lips as a whisper, or prayer.

“Yes?”

“Do you ever…” Eyes opening, you look up. “I don’t want to say it out loud.”

“Why not?”

“Because.” Your voice breaks. “That might make it real. What I want can’t be real, so if I say it out loud, it might vanish and right now, it exists in this tentative space. We exist in this space.”

Lightly, his thumb strokes your throat, and you feel your knees buckle. Every callous, every touch feels so horribly real, it’s making it difficult to remember why this can’t be.

“I’ve stopped wondering what’s real and what’s not,” Seokjin murmurs, his gaze tracing your mouth. “Most people say I shouldn’t exist and yet, here I am. They say I shouldn’t be here, able to touch you like this and yet, I am. They say I shouldn’t–”

Rising on tiptoe, you cut him off with your kiss. Seokjin shudders, his lips parted and warm in the shock of the moment.

“Fuck,” he groans, breaking away to stare at you in wonder.

Before you can respond, he returns, his kiss wild and fierce. Your own desire surges, touching him hesitantly at first, and then with full abandon. Hands sliding up his chest, over his shoulders, your fingers curl in his hair to anchor him to you.

Cupping your face, Seokjin pulls your body to his. His touch is reverent, deifying while his hands travel lower to land on your waist. His body curves above yours, catching your gasps with the tip of his tongue. Seokjin feels solid beneath you – solid, and warm, and painfully real.

His mouth moves to your jaw, trailing heat down your throat and across your bared collar. Shivers of pleasure shoot through you as he walks you backwards, pressing your spine to the wall. Briefly – wondrously – you laugh, the sound caught again by his kiss.

Within minutes, you’re panting, heart beating wildly as you grip his hair tighter. Seokjin’s leg presses forward, pushing your thighs apart and you nearly dissolve. He moves harder, faster, as though scared that you’ll vanish. This is the opposite of disappearing, though.

This is together, beneath, and on top as –

“Shit,” Seokjin growls, the sound torn from his throat.

Dazed, you look sideways and realize his hand has gone through the wall.

Seokjin stares at his wrist, his chest rising and falling. Everything you can feel is solid, but his hand sinks through the wall about an inch deep. It’s hard to concentrate with him above you, looking like that. Seokjin’s hair remains mussed by your hands, proving you touched him – however briefly.

Lips thinning, Seokjin pulls his hand out. Purposefully, he lays his palm flat on the wall but it’s clear to you both that he’s concentrating. Some of his pressure dissipates.

“I – fuck,” he exhales, dropping his chin.

Gently, you soothe a strand of hair behind his ear. This is the first time you’ve seen Seokjin anything less than immaculate and goddamn, if it doesn’t look good on him. That’s making it difficult to focus on the matter at hand.

The matter at hand. Ha.

Thinking this, a snort escapes your lips before you can stop it. Stunned, Seokjin glances up with wide eyes.

“Did you just… snort?” he asks, incredulous.

You shake your head, and then nod, sheepish. “Um, yes. I did. It’s just…” Now that you’ve started, you can’t help but continue. “I can’t believe the hottest make-out session of my life ended with your fucking hand through a wall.”

Seokjin stares for a long moment before – impossibly – his chest starts to shake. Before long, you’re both laughing out loud at the ridiculousness of the situation. Once your laughter has faded though, comfortable silence remains.

Pulling you into his chest, Seokjin’s hand strokes your neck. “I don’t know what this means,” he admits with a sigh.

“Me, either.”

“I do know I want to do that again.”

“Same,” you say, pulling back.

“But…” Seokjin hesitates. “Y/N. You know I’m not… real, right?”

Your heart sinks to your shoes. “You’re real to me.”

“I know.” He speaks softly. “But I –”

Lifting a hand, you press a finger to his lips. “Don’t,” you warn. “Please. I don’t want to think about the future right now. I know I don’t have eternity, but I don’t want what I have without you.”

Something in his gaze breaks but Seokjin merely nods, letting silence fall again. You fear that he’ll vanish, leaving you alone but he merely exhales. The breath brushes your skin.

“Alright,” Seokjin murmurs, winding his hand with yours. “What do you want to talk about, then?”

The ghost of a smile crosses your lips. “What if… we talk about me buying this house?”

#bangtanarmynet #bts fanfic #seokjin fanfic #jin fanfic #seokjin fanfiction #jin fanfiction #bts fanfiction #seokjin au #jin au #bts au #bts halloween

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writtenbynamu · 11 months

Text

Dickmatized

Myg X black reader

Tags/warnings: HAEGEUM! (Yoongi), mentions of human trafficking, talks of s/a (not by Yoongi, doesn’t actually happen), violence, degradation, rough, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!), choking, daddy kink, perjury, reader is weak in the knees

Word count: 3.4k

Minors DNI

Your legs are crossed, right over left; back rigid as you try to maintain your composure. To anyone else in the room, your behaviour would have seemed normal. After all, women crossed their legs all the time out of habit or politeness. It was nothing out of the ordinary….or it wouldn’t have been if your legs had been crossed for any other reason that to quell the throb budding in your underwear.

You were better than this. You were a strong, independent woman. You were one of the two partners of Park & Min. A lawyer, a ridiculously good one at that; with one foot in the underground crime syndicate and the other on the necks of every prosecutor in Seoul. In this city, your name had to hold weight for you to survive…and yours was heavy enough to burden tongues. You made sure of it.

You had spent years getting your shit together, yet somehow, all it took was one look from him for you to fall apart.

You had first met Agust back when you were nothing but a decoy for the Itaewon dragons. The Itaewon dragons were one of the most feared gangs in Seoul, run by one of the most unassuming men you’d ever met. They sold everything from party drugs to cocaine to people. That’s where you had come in.

“Are you sure you want to do this noona?” The man before you asked as soon as the door shut. “You could get stabbed, or shot, or raped…oh my god this could end so fucking badly”

His teeth worried at his lip, the metal of his piercing hit against his teeth but he didn’t notice. He never did when he got anxious.

You tutted at him and walked over to where he stood. You looped a hand around his neck, urging him to look down at you and used your thumb to pull his bottom lip from between his teeth.

“Breathe Bun,” you said gently, rubbing soothing circles on his back.

His shoulders sagged and he dropped his head into your shoulders. He took a deep breath, shuddering a bit when he exhaled.

“ I don’t want to do this noona, I don’t want any of this. I just want to go back to art school” he said with a whine, a petulant pout on his lips. You resisted the urge to coo at him.

“I know bun, but it’s only for a little while hm? Just until your hyung gets back right?”

“Mhm hm” he mumbled, not ready to lift his head from the comfort of your warmth.

“So just let Noona do this so you can get it out the way in time to finish your project hm?”

He sighed against you and wrapped his hands tighter around your waist, pulling you closer to him. Time was going, but he needed the tactile comfort to ground him and so you let him have it for a few more minutes.

“Okay, now put your poker face on and let’s go do a drug heist Kook”

The plan was simple. You, Jungkook and the other dragons were supposed to meet up with some lackeys from D Town who had been interested enough in the “sexy foreigner” they had seen Jungkook parade around with to strike a deal with their mortal enemies. 15 kilos of pure white booger sugar for one night with you is what they offered.

It was insulting to think that they thought you had fallen for such a ruse.They knew that Seokjin wouldn’t have fallen for it, that’s why they waited until Jungkook had taken the reins. Jungkook might have been younger and less experienced, but he was no fool.

You would meet them and the specified location, demand a show of the product and then when they asked for you in return, the dragons would kill them and take the coke. It was foolproof, or at least it had been until the sky decided that it was the perfect time to burst and started to rain.

The dragons had the D town boys surrounded, guns drawn and pointed right at their heads. The sudden downpour had thrown everyone off-kilter and in the blink of an eye, you had found yourself with a knife to your throat and a gun pressed to your hip.

“LET HER GO YOU FUCKING PIECES OF SHIT”

Jungkook yelled over the clap of thunder that rolled overhead.

“ONE MORE STEP AND I KILL THE BITCH AND YOU” the man screamed.

Jungkook froze in his spot a glare on his face to conceal the dread he truly felt about the situation.

The man started backing away with you in tow only to freeze when he bumped into a hard chest. The smell of newports and the tiniest hint of…tangerine? Hit you both at the same time and you felt the man holding you start quivering.

“Having a bit of fun without me Jaehyuck?” came a low, deep voice; words gravely as if he hadn’t spoken all day.

“N-no Ag- n-no sir” he replied, hands trembling so much that he dropped the knife

“Really? Because it looks to me like you stole my product and tried to buy someone with it…” he spat.

The heel of his boots clicked on the paved rooftop as he circled the man holding you.

“What are my two rules Jaehyuck?” He asked, no demanded.

“N-never involve w-women and children s-sir”

“Now unless I’ve completely lost sight in my right eye and my left one has decided to start playing tricks on me… that’s a woman you’re holding…is it not?”

The man let go of you immediately, falling to his knees to plead with the man looking down at him with utter disgust.

You should have grabbed the coke and run over to Jungkook while they were both distracted, but you just couldn’t look away from your dark saviour.

You watched enthralled as he reached into the pocket of his coat, and you braced yourself for him to take out a gun of some sort; only to be confused when he pulled out a pair of red chopsticks instead.

The man seemed to recognize the utensils though, in fact, he seemed terrified of them.

“Beg for forgiveness.” Said the scarred man.

“I’m so s-sorry s-“

“Not from me you imbecile, from her”

To his credit, the man did beg for your forgiveness with so much sincerity and desperation that you almost felt sorry for him. But Scarface didn’t care. He used his chopstick on Jaehyuck in ways you had never seen before, ways you hadn’t known were possible. It should have scared you, but you had never felt more intrigued by a singular person in your entire life .

And when he was done, he held his chopsticks out so the rain could wash them off, bowed to you and offered you the coke as an apology (not that you weren’t going to take it either way) and turned to leave.

“Wait! What’s your name?” You asked, a bit winded from the adrenaline pumping through your veins

“Agust” he said “Agust D”

🥢🥢 🥢

“Agust” (as you came to know later)had been in the process of taking over the D- boys when you had your little run-in with them. He was keen on changing the way things worked in the gang, determined to make sure his rule was never questioned or contested. Killing Jaehyuck for not only undermining his authority but threatening to jeopardise the partnership he had been working to establish with the dragons through Jin was his first step in doing so.

Now, 5 years later, Agust had the largest cities in Korea, Seoul included, trembling under the weight of his thumb. He had long since created an alliance with the dragons and went on to take over when both Jin and Jungkook wanted out.

He owned almost everything and everyone. What were once periodic whispers of his name became incessant screams, loud enough that everyone knew it.

Still, very few people knew what Agust looked like. Sure they knew his name, knew who he was but he rarely showed his face in public, the threat of his existence was potent enough that he didn’t have to.

Still, in Seoul, walls could talk and they loved to gossip. And so everyone knew that “Agust D '' had a scar over his right eye and could kill people with his bare hands and a pair of chopsticks. August’s favourite part of his partial anonymity was the theories about how he got his scar. Some say he got it in an underground fight, others said he had been cut with glass in prison and the truly bold suggested that he had done it himself. They were all wrong, but they were fun to listen to.

When Agust did show his face, it was usually in a setting like you were in right now. A conference room full of lawyers being debriefed on his latest transgressions and how they would be expected to handle it, had he ever gotten caught.

The funny thing about Agust is that no matter who he bought or for how long he bought them, he never recruited a police officer or any member of the judiciary at all for that matter. He loved the rush he got from winning a trial simply because he had a good legal team; that he had you on his team. He liked knowing that he could win fair and square There was something so fascinating…so attractive about the way that you made an airtight case against the prosecution, how you played the jury like a puppet master in your… in his favour.

To this day, you had only lost once, a petty crime charge of aggravated assault for one of the boys. It should have rolled off your back because he, like almost everyone you represented, had been guilty. But there was something about the way Jisoo looked at you in that courtroom as if she knew she had won before the trial even began, as if she was better than you that fueled your thirst to be the best lawyer Seoul had ever seen, even if just out of pure spite.

🥢🥢🥢

There was something about the way Agust could command a room that made you feel hot all over. There was something about the way he spoke, calm, collected, controlled as if words were nothing but a nuisance to him and he had made them his bitch.

His presence filled any room no matter how big or small it was and his demeanour was enough to make even the most insolent of individuals sit with their backs straight. Fuck, he made you feel the need to sit straight.

You tried to pay attention as he spoke, but your mind could only focus on how his plump lips wrapped around his words. How his tongue darted out at intervals to wet his lips, how his fingers twirled the chopsticks he held between them as he paced the room. You couldn't help but stare at his hands, hands that had done unspeakable horrors to scores of people, hands that had dealt unspeakable pleasures to you.

You’ve officially zoned out. You hear no words, no shuffling of paper; your brain blocks out everything that isn’t Agust or your memories of him so much so that you don’t realise that the meeting is over until the heavy double doors bang shut. Almost instantaneously, the smell of cigarettes wafts towards you and you look up to see him standing beside you.

You swallow thickly.

“How was the meeting Y/N?” he asks you, taking a long, slow drag from his cigarette.

“Good.” you lied “It was good.”

“Hm,” he hummed. “ So what do you think Dongshik’s chances are on that murder charge?”

You clear your throat. “ I have full confidence that Jimin can get the charges dropped or at the very least, get him out on bail” you reply carefully, praying you didn’t sound as unsure as you felt.

Agust chuckled before spinning you around in your chair to face him and leaning over you so that your faces were mere inches apart.

“Good try baby, but “Dongshik” is one of your paralegals, not one of the dragons. The only crime he’s committing is wearing that God-awful fake Dior cologne.”

Shit.

“What's got you so distracted, hm pretty girl?” he asked, running his left index finger along your jaw.

Your breath hitched. “N-nothing, I’m just a little tired,” you replied, clenching your thighs together.

Agust narrowed his eyes at you, his mouth forming a straight line. Unamused. He takes one last drag of his cigarette before he puts it on one of the ashtrays on the long table.

He looks you up and down, gazee burning against your skin as his eyes rake over you, arms crossed against his chest.

“You know better than to insult my intelligence like that don’t you Y/N?” he asks, clearly not expecting an answer.

He grabs your chin and tilts your head up, forcing you to look at him “ You think I couldn’t see you squirming? That I couldn't see you clench those thighs for all they’re worth?”

His eyes were intense, just like everything else about him was but you fought defiantly to maintain eye contact with him.

“ I did no such thing” you retorted, much to his displeasure. He scoffed.

“You’re such a brat you know that? Such a big fucking brat.” he said shaking his head. “Stand up.”

You don't move, much to his annoyance.

He takes a deep breath and brings his right hand down to your throat, not squeezing hard enough to hurt, but applying enough pressure to get your heart racing and to know how serious he was.

“I’ll say it again once. Stand. Up.”

You obey this time, looking up at him as you rise from your seat, hand still wrapped snugly around your neck.

He releases you once you’re completely upright on your feet and sits in your chair. He taps the space on the table in front of him and you take the hint and sit.

He runs his hands up and down the length of your thighs and your legs part almost on instinct. He gets a view of your underwear, the dark red in the centre from how wet you were and hisses.

“See why you shouldn’t lie to me, baby? Because no matter what you come up with in that pretty little head of yours, your body will always tell me the truth, hm?”

He hikes your pencil skirt up to your waist and pushes your thighs further apart and your body arches towards him on instinct. He brings his head down to kiss at the sensitive skin and you barely hold back a scream when he sinks his teeth into your soft flesh. He runs his tongue over the bite and you whine. He pulls away to look up at you

“What kind of behaviour is this hm? The big bad Y/N making such a mess on this table? Aren’t you a bit embarrassed to be reacting like this hm? Dripping all over me as if I didn’t fuck you senseless just yesterday.” he says bringing a hand to your core and pulling your underwear to the side.

You roll your hips forward and resist the urge to bring your hands to cover your face because he was right. He did fuck you senseless less than 24 hours ago, but Agust was more addictive than any combination of drugs he sold. He was toxic, mean…evil if you were to consider anything he did with your moral compass…but you needed him. He might have been cruel to everyone and everything else, but he was good, so, so good to your pussy.

He pushes a finger into you, the cool metal of his ring grazing against your walls. He adds another and your eyes roll back and your head falls back. He starts pumping his fingers in and out of you, your wetness making obscene noises as you clench around his digits. The pressure builds up in your pussy embarrassingly quickly and your orgasm is so close you can practically taste it. You roll your hips forward to meet every thrust of his fingers urging him to go faster. And of course, in the most Agsust fashion ever, he slows down.

He pulls his fingers out of you, your juices running down to his palm and he meets your eyes as he licks them both. The sight is obscene and incredibly hot and it sends you surging forward to put your lips on his.

The kiss is a desperate tangle of tongues and the occasional clashing of teeth. It's wet and messy and it makes every nerve ending in your body stand on edge. Your hand makes its way around his neck and you pull away from him.

“I need you to fuck me,” you say simply. Chest heaving against the silk of your blouse, three buttons somehow missing from the expensive top.

He glares up at you and rips your hand from his neck.

“I don't take fucking orders from you” he spits as he flips you over on the table, face down and ass towards him. “But I'll give it to you just this once, and only because I want to feel you cum on my dick”.

With that, he pulls your underwear down and pushes into you in one go, ripping a scream from your throat as your walls struggle to accommodate him. He doesn’t wait for you to adjust before he starts thrusting into you. His pace is rough and punishing and you can't help the moans that escape you.

“Youre so fucking tight every. Single. Time.” he groans, punctuating his sentence with his thrusts.

He grabs onto your braids, pulling your head back so he could push his tongue into your mouth. His hips start moving impossibly faster, and you can do nothing but moan brokenly against his lips.

He brings his hand down to your clit and rubs it, and your eyes blow wide open and you scream.

“Yoongi please.” you beg.

His hips stuttered in shock.

“What the fuck did you just call me?”

Your eyes widen as you realise what had slipped out of your mouth. Agust had told you his real name years ago but you had never used it. Sure you had practised the way it felt on your tongue in secret but you had never felt brave enough to say it.

“I’m s-sorry,” you say in between moans

“Don’t apologize- fuck it sounds so good when you say it.” he moans out, picking his pace up once more “ Say it again.” he demands “ tell me who this pussy belongs to baby”

“YOONGI!” you scream, tears streaming freely down your face “ It’s all yours Yoongi please”

“That’s right. Thats fucking right” Yoongi replies. “I can feel you clenching around me, do you want to cum baby?”

“Fuck yes, Yoongi please let me cum” you begged.

Yoongi gives you one last particularly hard thrust and your entire body convulses as your orgasm washes over you.

“That’s it, baby, cum for daddy.” he guides you as he slows his thrusts down to barely their pace as you come apart around him.

His orgasm follows yours almost immediately and he spills into you, sending a combination of your juices running down your legs.

He runs his hand along your back as you go limp against him, recovering from your high and places a gentle kiss on your forehead and he pulls your underwear back up.

🥢🥢🥢

As rough as Yoongi is with you whenever you have sex, his gentleness after the fact always negates it.

As bad as Yoongi was for you, he simply made you feel too good.

Deep down, you knew Yoongi loved you in his own twisted way, and you loved him too. But neither of you was willing to admit that out loud. Instead, what existed between you was an unspoken agreement of ownership. You were Yoongi’s just as much as he was yours.

Of course, you saw something more with Yoongi than just fucking him, and it would b unfair to say that was all your relationship was.

Maybe you would've brought it up if you weren't so enthralled by him. If you weren’t so distracted every time he touched you.

Yoongi was everything you did not tolerate, and yet you tolerated him so well.

Yoongi was nothing but death, sex and bad vibes.

Maybe you were insane.

Or maybe you were just dickmatized.

#agustd #yoongi smut #bts x black girl #bts x black reader #bts smut #agust d smut #this is my first post please be nice #haegum #HAEGEUM Yoongi #Spotify

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borathae · 2 years

Text

↳ Index [Day 14 - Kniveplay]

Pairing: gangster!Yoongi x f.Reader

Kinks: dom!Yoongi, sub!Reader, knives, rope bondage, blindfold, tears, choking & breathplay, praise, good girl kink, dirty talk, slight possessiveness but in a sexy way, body worship, strength kink, oral (f.&m.receiving), edging, vaginal penetrative sex, squirting, face fucking, cumming on face, sweet aftercare

Wordcount: 7.4k

a/n: i am 👁👄👁💧 i’m not saying that this is the hottest fucking shit ever but i am exactly saying that *yells*

Jungkook texted you. Told you that the boss refuses to talk to anyone and that you should come home. You arrive twenty minutes later.

The air is tense the moment you step into the mansion. Jungkook, right hand man and skilled with his fists, is sitting with the others. Taehyung, driver and skilled with the machete, is sitting next to him. Jimin, your best dealer and skilled with the gun, is currently being taken care of by Seokjin. He was your lawyer on most days, but serves as a doctor tonight. Hoseok, bodyguard of Jimin during the deals, is bleeding from his eyebrow, right eye bruised to the point of no recognition.

“Well fuck. You guys look fucked”, you say, calling their attention, “how are you?”

“Could be better”, Jimin says and hisses in discomfort as Seokjin once again drills the needle through his skin to close up the deep cut on his back.

“Sorry man, we’re almost done”, Seokjin mumbles, brows furrowed in concentration.

“What happened?” you ask.

“There was an ambush. The whole deal was a fucking trap. We lost five men, the twins barely escaped and the rest of us is fucked up”, Hoseok answer you, pointing at his bruised eye.

“Fuck. Where is he?” you ask them.

“Your bedroom. I wouldn’t go in there, he’s murderous”, Namjoon, financier and consultant, answers you.

“Don’t worry, I’ll be fine”, you assure him, abandoning them in the sitting room to hurry upstairs.

They exchange a look of worry with each other.

“Think she’ll be fine?” Taehyung asks.

“I hope so”, Jungkook says, rocking back and forth nervously. He’ll never forgive himself if you get hurt just because he texted you.

“Boss. You’re back. Welcome home, boss”, the guards outside your bedroom doors greet you, bowing their heads at you.

"Is my husband in there?"

"Yes, boss."

“Good. Leave”, you order them, flicking your wrist dismissively.

“Boss”, they say, nodding their heads in understanding. They leave you afterwards, finding their new post downstairs.

You knock on his door three times, waiting for an answer. It doesn’t come, obviously.

“Honey, it’s me”, you try, knocking twice.

“Come in”, his voice sounds poisonous even from behind closed doors.

You turn the doorknob and push, slipping inside your bedroom. The door closes quietly. The lock falls into place.

The lights safe for your bedside lamp are turned off, the curtains are drawn closed. The room smells like a mixture of blood, disinfectant and whiskey. The blood-soaked pieces of cotton wool scattered all over your leather couch give you an idea of what causes the stench. The open bottles of whiskey and disinfectant on the floor answer the rest.

Your eyes flit to your husband. He is sitting on the bed with a glass of whiskey tangling between his fingers and his hair a dishevelled mess.

Shadows surround him, claiming his black hair as theirs and dragging their spindly fingers over his face as well. He is still in his suit. Jacket discarded on the couch and tie thrown on the floor. His shirt is open, soaked in blood at some parts and revealing the huge cut on his left pec now hidden behind bandages.

“Holy shit, honey. What happened? Who did this to you?” you gasp.

Yoongi clenches his jaw, guiding the glass of whiskey to his lips. He drinks it without any kind of reaction, setting it down on the floor afterwards.

“What do you want?” he hisses.

“They told me what happened. Who the fuck dared to ambush you?”

“Tzt”, Yoongi looks to the side, “who the fuck you think? The fucking Dragons.”

“Fucking bastards, fuck”, you say, hurrying to your husband’s side. You cup his face and turn his head so he was looking up at you, “I’m happy you’re still here though”, you say, smoothing over his tightened brows, “does the cut hurt a lot? Should I look at it?”

“No”, he answers you dryly, trying to turn his head away but you force it to fall against your stomach. He is tense and silent, face contorted in anger you know not to be afraid of. Not you, because you know how to handle him when he wants to kill the entire world.

“It’s gonna be alright, love”, you whisper, running your fingers through his dishevelled hair, “you’re gonna kill those fucking bastards, I’m sure of it. It’s what you do best.”

Yoongi exhales loudly and closes his arms around your waist, turning his head so his nose was buried in the softness of your tummy and he was drowning in your scent.

If any other person in this fucking organisation tried to force him into this kind of hug, they’d have already lost their arms. But not you. You’re his fucking treasure, his light, his better half and you can break every single brick of those walls around his heart with just one touch.

He inhales deeply, twisting the fabric of your shirt desperately.

“It’s alright, love. I’m here now”, you assure him, kissing the crown of his head.

Yoongi lifts his head because of that, nose brushing against yours and half-lidded eyes glued to your lips. He even flutters his lashes, parting his lips slowly. You feel the tension instantly. This addicting kind of tension which, years ago, made you fall so goddamn deep for him. Tension filled with dangerous attraction, leaving you craving more and more with each passing second.

Yoongi reaches up and takes your chin between two of his fingers. His eyes lower even more, his head tilts back further. With a gentle tug, he makes you move, claiming your lips in a deep, passionate kiss. He tastes like whiskey and anger, feeding it to you with hungry lips and an eager tongue. You squeeze his cheeks softly, kissing him back happily.

You know that your husband is the best in the business. He isn’t the boss for no reason. But still, you can’t help but be worried for him each time he leaves for a mission. And now that he is back, almost unharmed, you want to never ever let him go again.

He breaks the kiss a second later, gazing at your lips as he squeezes your chin gently.

“I need you”, he rasps.

“I’m here now. Just tell me what you need”, you whisper.

“Wanna fuck you.”

“Okay”, you rasp, feeling heat tingle in your stomach. You were hoping for that.

“Wanna tie you up for it”, he whispers, pulling you down until your lips are brushing against his.

“I’m okay with that.”

“Wanna blindfold you.”

“Yeah?” you press your legs together, “with your tie?”

“No. The real shit. Need you unable to peek.”

“I’m fine with that.”

“Fuck. Baby”, Yoongi gets out breathily and pulls you back into a kiss.

You moan desperately, feeling dizzy from just how hungrily he kisses you. Held willing hostage with your chin between his fingers and your head dizzy from anticipation.

Yoongi breaks the kiss with a throaty growl, letting the strings of saliva break between your lips before he tilts his head back, dragging his lips up your nose in the process. His eyes are closed, his brows are relaxed, letting you know that your presence is already helping with relaxing him.

“You’re the living fucking proof that god is a woman, baby”, he rasps, turning your limbs into complete mush.

“Yoongi”, you moan, letting yourself fall on top of his lap, “I need you so bad.”

“Same”, he says and then picks you up just to lie you down on the bed, “you know what to do”, he adds and turns his back to you. He slips his shirt off as he does, dropping it on the floor. Like this his sculpted back is exposed to you. It is covered in a few new scratches but looks healthy otherwise. The faint shine of the bedside lamp is casting big shadows on it, making his muscles look even bigger.

You watch him strut to your dresser where your toys are stored. You take on your favourite position in the meantime, taking off your clothes until nothing but your lingerie is keeping you humble. Then you rest back, head sinking into the soft pillows and skin getting caressed by your silken sheets.

Yoongi turns, black bondage ropes in one hand and a silk blindfold in the other. He studies you from head to toe, rolling his shoulders as a sign that the view is affecting him. Good. You’re wearing one of the sets he bought for you. Black lace from the highest quality and fitted right to your body. You know for a fact that the way the lamp is shining on your body and hiding parts of it in shadows is affecting him deeply.

“You look so fucking sexy”, he says, strutting to the bed in heavy steps and his head tilted to the side just slightly.

“It’s the set you got me for Christmas”, you say, writhing on the sheets just for his viewing pleasure.

“I know. I never forget a set”, he answers you, dropping the ropes on the bed to open them, “especially not one like that. You wore it on Bali.”

“Yes and in Osaka.”

The right corner of his lips curl into a small smirk. He hums and nods his head, opening his hand for you, “hand”, he orders.

You place your hand in his palm, tingling when he closes his fingers around it and caresses your skin gently. You watch with sparkly eyes as Yoongi tightens the rope around you in a beautiful braided cuff tie. He finishes the tie by tugging on the rope and forcing your arm into its supposed position.

“Good?” he asks.

“Yeah, good”, you whisper, feeling hot all over.

He nods his head, tightening the rope on the sturdy ring on your bed’s headboard. Afterwards he rounds the bed, repeating what he did on your other hand. He didn’t even have to ask for your hand and you were already presenting it to him, oh so eager to get tied up by him. He asks you for your comfort to which you say that it felt so nice and then he tightened the rope on the ring. He rounds the bed again afterwards, stopping by the foot end. You wait with bated breath for what he will do. His fingers close around your ankles and then he tugs, making you squeak in surprise. Strong and aggressive until your arms are stretched widely and the rope is taut. Like this your head is resting on the mattress.

"That was fun", you giggle, making Yoongi show a small toothless smile.

"Mhm."

Yoongi wraps the rope around your leg right above your ankle, tightening it after making sure two of his fingers are fitting in between the rope and your body. With one tug to the side and your left leg opens widely, now getting tied into the position on the bondage ring.

You feel so out of breath because of it, trying your hardest not to squirm.

Yoongi repeats the tie on your other leg, fixating it into position with expert knots. Like this your legs are opened far, unable to close on him.

“Done. Are you comfortable?” he says, running his hands up and down your legs.

“Yeah, so comfortable”, you answer him, sounding just slightly out of breath.

“Good. Say the words when it starts to hurt.”

“I will”, you promise him, not getting any answer from him. You wanted to lift your head to check on him, but decide against it when you feel his lips on your body, kissing their way up your inner thigh and stealing your breath in the process.

You moan, enjoying the sensation with closed eyes. His lips are so soft and warm, worshipping your skin with so much tenderness. Truly, Yoongi can be the cruelest man on the job, but not once did he bring any of it into your bedroom. You feel like a queen when he is with you.

He leaves out your pussy purposefully, kissing your lower tummy right along the hem of your panties. Maybe he is still a little torturous but you love that kind of torture. His hands run up and down your sides in the process, sending electric tingles over your skin. He is still not fully on the bed, one knee between your legs and slacks stretching around his thighs. For just one more second because then he kisses too far up your body, forcing his other leg to lift from the floor to instead rest on the mattress as well, knee digging into the sheets right next to your leg.

Yoongi hums in approval as he dances his lips over your clothed breasts, cupping them with his big hands as he does. His warmth seeps right through the material, making you ache for the unfaltered sensation.

One flick of his fingers and he manages to tug the material down far enough to expose your nipples to him. He grunts in approval, lowering his lips to them to suck them until they are swollen.

"Oh god so good", you moan, feeling short of breath. Yoongi just knows how to really get you going, giving you the sensation long enough to rile you up but not long enough to fully satisfy. He's an expert in that kind of torture. Damn.

“So fucking sexy”, he murmurs raspily, abandoning your tits in sake of marking your collarbones with hungry hickeys. He sucks on your skin until it stings and you arch your back for him, moving on to the next spot to repeat the sweet torture. When Yoongi is finally happy with the results, he managed to reduce you to the point where just his breath against your neck makes you want to pray to his name. Luckily for you or perhaps sadly for you, Yoongi never lowers his lips, lifting his head before he does to instead look down at you with half-lidded eyes. His knees are on each side of your armpits, his clothed bulge looks so huge from your point of view. Yoongi grips your cheeks with soft fingers and squishes your face to the point where your lips pout involuntarily. He turns your head from left to right, letting his eyes race over your features obsessively.

“You’ve got the prettiest fucking face”, he says, loosening his tight grip to instead run the back of his hand down your face. He places his pointer finger under your chin, caressing your skin with his thumb, “gonna fuck it later.”

You gulp, ogling his cock.

"Want that, baby?" he asks

You nod your head, painting a proud smirk on his face.

"That's my girl", he rasps.

You feel your cheeks heat up under his praise, eyes lighting up in happiness.

“Close your eyes for me”, he orders.

You follow happily.

“Keep them closed”, he orders next and then you feel the softness of the blindfold on your eyes. He lifts your head for you, tightening the blindfold with a comfortable knot, “is it tight?”

“No, it’s good”, you sigh, sighing again when he places your head back down. Darkness surrounds you. Darkness and the uncertainty of what happens next. Your skin is prickling because of it, becoming so sensitive that even the air in the room feels like too much.

His fingers walking down the sides of your neck remind you that there is something even more unbearable than mere air. His touch. Oh it is so unbearably good when you don’t know where he will place it next.

His touch leaves you again, the bed dents as if he was climbing off of it. His steps on the wooden floor let you know that you were right.

“Honey? Where are you going?” you ask panickedly.

“Relax. I’m not leaving”, he assures you, steps very clearly moving away from you.

Silence. The sound of a drawer opening. Fumbling with something. The drawer closes again. Steps. They come closer and closer again. The sheets ruffle, the mattress shakes. Your breathing speeds up.

You turn your head to where you think your husband is sitting, waiting with a racing heart for the moment he touches you again.

The silence is unbearable. There is this rhythmic clicking sound of something opening and closing and you can’t for the world of you figure out what it was. It continues. Yoongi’s presence is unbearable when he doesn’t act.

“Yoongi?” you ask quietly.

“Yes, love?” he answers you.

“What are you doing?”

“Looking at you.”

“What are you holding?”

“My knife”, he answers you, sending bolts of pleasure through your body without even touching you. He watches in delight as you squirm and tug on the ropes just slightly. He knew that this would affect you.

“W-what knife?” you stutter.

Click. Yoongi most definitely opened it.

Cold metal touches your stomach. The area of touch is small, letting you know that he is pressing the tip of it into your skin. You feel dizzy in an instant.

“Guess”, he says, voice heavy in arousal. He dances the knife up and down your tummy, making sure to never cut but to still apply enough pressure to leave goosebumps behind.

Your husband owns many knives. Next to buying you the finest clothes, collecting knives is his favourite hobby. Trying to guess which one of his huge collection he decided to use on you tonight is almost impossible. Especially when he traces your torso so incredibly good.

“I, I don’t know”, you stutter breathlessly.

“Try harder”, Yoongi orders, flipping the knife so the flat of the blade was between your tits. He makes sure to press the dull site into your flesh while letting the sharp side barely miss your soft skin. The shaky breath you take, makes his stomach twist in arousal.

He knows that you won’t be able to guess. He only used that knife on you once, it would be a surprise if you guessed right. He still loves the game, playing it like an addict.

“T-the silver one?”

“Silver one? Which one? Be more specific”, he says, slipping the knife from your sternum to instead dance the tip over your left breast. He holds it in place for it, making sure the flesh was gathered enough that he can trace every inch of it.

“The, the one with the red handle?” you try, feeling shivers run down your spine constantly. The skin on your tits is so sensitive and now Yoongi is using the knife on it. You want to twist the sheets because of it, but have to twist the ropes instead.

“Wrong”, he says and with just enough pressure makes sure to leave a tiny mark. It doesn’t bleed, stinging for just a second before a deep burn digs into your fibres.

You whimper for him, chasing it with a soft arch of your back

“Two more guesses", he says, soothing the spot with his thumb.

“Two, two more?” you stutter, panting heavily.

“Mhm.”

“What happens then?”

He moves closer, making the mattress creak.

“I’ll cut you”, he rasps, breath swirling against your lips and fingers closing around your throat softly.

“Yoongi”, you mewl, chasing him and gulping under his fingers. Oh how you wish for him to press down on your veins and steal just a little bit more of your sanity.

“Continue, baby. Keep guessing”, he says, keeping his hand around your throat as he swirls the tip of the knife over your face.

Your entire body feels charged. You aren’t scared. Not even a little bit. You know that Yoongi would rather ram that knife into his own thigh before accidentally hurting you. You know that he would never cut you, not unless you beg for it. So you trust him with the sharp blade on your face, but you still can’t help but feel charged to the point where you are shaking. To have his big hand wrapped around your throat as the knife is against your skin as you have no way to escape, fills you with aching pleasure.

You try to concentrate. He took that knife from a drawer, which means it must be one of the knives he keeps in his nightstand. You have one in yours as well, but that doesn’t open and close.

Yoongi slides his hand from your throat to the back of your neck, lifting your head like this. It tilts back, revealing your vulnerable throat to the blade. Yoongi flips it and presses the sharp side of it against your skin, making you gasp in surprise.

“Guess. Now”, he orders, voice dark and dangerous. You feel your pussy throb because of it.

“I, I don’t know. The silver one from the nightstand?” you stutter.

“No. Wrong again”, he says and punishes you by dropping your head and replacing the blade with his hand, cutting off just enough of your airflow to turn your body limp in surprised bliss. Your head starts pounding, you feel like moaning out a gag. The knife rests on your tummy as he caresses your skin and basks in the quick movements you do from all the gasping he forces you to do.

“I’m gonna count to five and then let go of your throat and I want your answer by then”, he rasps, lips ghosting over your cheek, “can you do that for me, baby?”

“Yeah”, you croak, brain working overtime to guess right.

“Trust me, it’s gonna be worth it to get it right, so think hard. One….two…” he starts counting, making you tremble in charged desperation.

Yoongi has four knives in his nightstand. One kukri knife with a brown handle, which doesn’t open and close. His cousin gave it to him during one of their missions as teens. A small bowie knife you gave him for his birthday, it opens but was your second guess so you know it to be wrong. One of his customised daggers which opens with a press of a button and doesn’t sound that sharp. That leaves…

“…four and…five”, Yoongi finishes counting and releases your throat.

You gasp for air, arching your back from the rush of blood going back to your head. Yoongi caresses your sides until you calm down enough to talk.

“The black steel one. The s-spanto blade”, you croak.

“Good job, you guessed right”, he says, carrying a smile in his voice.

You bask in the praise with a fluttering heart, grinning proudly.

“It wasn’t even that hard”, you say, making him chuckle.

“Of course not”, he says, caressing your tummy. He moves down your body, dancing his hands down as well until he has your soft thighs under his fingertips. He kneads them, sitting right between your open legs.

You have already figured out by now what reward he was talking about, barely handling the anticipation.

“Fuck baby”, just the tone of his voice makes your pussy throb in desperation, “you’re fucking soaked”, he says and laughs lazily, eyes glued to your wet panties.

“What are you gonna do with me?” you ask him.

“Whatever the fuck I wanna do”, he answers you, hooking his fingers in the fabric just to tug it away from your body and use the blade to cut through it. He rips it off your other leg, throwing it behind himself without looking.

“Yoongi, I loved those panties”, you whine and whimper, chasing something. You have no idea what you were chasing. Maybe his hand, maybe the cold air on your pussy, maybe your lost panties. You just know that all you want to be is to be touched.

“I’ll buy you new ones, just want that pussy”, he dismisses you, lowering himself to you without warning.

You yelp up, almost smothering him if he wasn’t pinning down your hips, growling against your pussy as his lips are wrapped around your clit.

You hadn’t expected that. You expected him to play with you with his fingers, but not for him to bury his tongue between your folds.

“Holy fuck”, you croak out, tugging at the ropes with all you got, “fuck, holy fuck.”

Yoongi growls deeply, looking up at you with furrowed brows and his arms tensed from pinning you down. The rings are making such nice noises as you fight against them, your tits looks so pretty now that you are gasping for air. He knows that your eyes are squeezed shut behind that pretty blindfold, you always do that when he eats you out.

Yoongi is right. All you can do is squeeze your eyes shut and gasp for air. Having him worship your body with his blade left you so riled up. You didn’t even realise just how turned on he got you until he wrapped his lips around your clit. Hot and wet he sucks on the sensitive bundle of nerves until it is throbbing for a break. Yoongi gives it to you in the form of fast licks, the kind which shoots involuntary shakes through your thighs and which make those ropes around your ankles feel like torture. You want to close your legs, throw them over his shoulders, bend them by their knees. Anything other than forcing them to lie and shake without having any kind of control over them.

Yoongi tries to soothe some of that shaking with his hands running down your thighs, using his nails when he dances them back up again. It doesn’t help. It just makes it worse.

“Fuck, you’re so sensitive”, he growls, breaking away from your pussy. He lets the drool drop from his lips, covering your dripping pussy with it, “you’re shaking like crazy.”

You make an embarrassed sound, tugging at the ropes around your legs and failing to move. Yoongi chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief.

“That was adorable”, he taunts, sticking out his tongue to drag the flat of it through your folds. He starts at your soaked entrance and ends it at your swollen clit. He uses his entire head for it, repeating the movements while his hands pin down your hips again.

“Yoongi please”, you cry out, feeling chills all over your body. You arch your back as best as the ropes allow you to, soaking the blindfold with pearls of your tears.

“Cute” he moans, basking in the aggressive clench your pussy does. He knows that he’s got you close. He knows you. Knows every change your body does when he’s got his hands on it. He knows that a blade against your skin turns you on like nothing else and that he can get you there instantly when he decides to use his tongue on you. He’s a little disappointed that he already has to stop, lifting his head despite his tongue begging for another taste.

You writhe, fighting the ropes. Only now he sees the tears seeping through the blindfold, smiling darkly because of it.

“Please”, you beg, fighting the strong hold he has on your hips.

“What’s wrong?” he asks nonchalantly despite his own shaky breathing. He feels so fucking good when he gets you so riled up. It’s the only rush of power he truly needs.

“Something, g-give me something please.”

“Hm”, he hums and then his hands leave your body.

You listen with a dizzy head. He climbs down from the bed. What you hadn’t expected however, was Yoongi untying the knots on the leg hooks. You wiggle in the newfound freedom, gasping when this earns you his strong grip around your thighs.

“Stay still”, he hisses.

“What are you doing?”

“Making sure you don’t close your legs”, he says and forces your left leg to bend. He holds it into position by your shin, wrapping the rope around it and therefore securing the position.

You moan in excitement, bending your other leg already for him. You love this position so much.

“Good girl”, Yoongi praises, working diligently to make sure you are comfortable but also tied up right. He rounds the bed afterwards, loosening the tautness of your arm ties and grabbing a pillow. He returns to the foot end of the bed, pulling your body right to the end of it until the arm rings hook back into place.

You laugh out a moan, enjoying the manhandling with all your being.

“Hm”, Yoongi chuckles softly, lifting your butt just to place the pillow underneath it. Like this your hips are tilted just right to give him the best view of your pussy.

He drags his palm down your inner thigh, resting it over your pussy. His pointer finger he flicks over your entrance, playing with your juices mindlessly. The desperation in your moans seem to leave him cold.

"You've got the prettiest pussy, baby", he rasps, dancing his finger to your clit to trace her slowly, "I thought of you today. You and your pretty pussy got me faded, baby."

"Yoongi please fuck me", you beg, feeling close to crying in desperation.

"I will", he says and pulls his hand away.

You are back to listening again.

His belt opens. His zipper gets pulled down. Then the distinct sound of slacks being pulled down and hitting the floor. You can barely breathe in excitement. Finally. Fucking finally you’ll get his cock. It’s all you want. Nobody fucks like Yoongi does. You need it so bad.

He steps closer, lying his cock down over your pussy. He slaps it against your clit a few times, making you keen and writhe.

"I can't wait to fill you up", he speaks slowly, letting you know with it that he is suffering from just as much desperation as you do.

He spanks your clit one last time, dragging his cock down your pussy afterwards. One circle over your weeping entrance then he finally pushes inside, letting out a desperate grunt as he does.

You whimper loudly, feeling your toes curl in pleasure. Yoongi fits like no other. The stretch is hot as fire, leaving you lightheaded and addicted to it.

"Almost there baby, your pussy's taking me so well", he lulls, watching with blown-out pupils as his swollen cock sinks into you. You fit so perfectly around him, as if you were made for him. Just for him.

He bottoms out, furrowing his brows as he does. Wet, hot, tight.

"Fuck I'm in", he presses out, "are you-'

"Good", you interrupt him, "Yoongi", you moan your best moan, tugging at the ropes.

"Shit you’re so fucking sexy", he presses out and grips your hips to finally begin moving. He goes slow and makes sure to really draw out the movements, slipping out of you to the very tip of his cock until slipping back inside to the very base. He needs to make sure your pussy remembers the shape of him, while remembering the sensation of your wet walls himself.

Your moans are like music to his ears. He answers them with whispered curses and throaty grunts, staying quieter for the sake of hearing you. Your sounds seriously get him off so good.

He looks at his cock. It glistens in your pussy juices, veins swollen and skin dark from all the blood rushing through him. You are so fucking wet that you managed to dirty his pubes by now too. Good. He wants to be marked by you just as much as he wants to mark you.

Yoongi spits on your clit, eliciting a gasp from you. You giggle his name, making him smile his distinct lazy smirk.

"Keep moaning for me, baby. Wanna hear how good I fuck you", he orders, picking up his spit with his thumb to use it on you. He rubs your clit slowly, timing the movements with his deep thrusts.

"Fuck! Ah, Yoongi!" you moan loudly, arching your back as best as possible. It is a little difficult when your legs are tied and your arms are unable to move. But you still try because all you want to do is writhe.

"Keep going baby. Moan my fucking name", he rasps, speeding up his hips in desperation.

"Yoongi", you moan, "Yoongi, ah Yoongi!"

He's got you trembling and clenching. Your pussy's so sensitive, his cock feels so huge because of it. His thumb is callused and the roughness of it almost feels too much. In the best way possible. His movements remind you just who gets you into such a state. He does. Only he can. Only Yoongi.

"So pretty. You sound so fucking pretty", he growls, "louder baby, louder. Let those bastards downstairs know who fucks you that well."

You totally forgot about everyone else. The moment you set foot in the bedroom, the rest of the organisation was gone from your mind. And now that he reminded you, all you want to do is tell the whole world who owes you to the core.

"Yoongi", you wail, "Yoongi! You fuck me so well. Yoongi!"

"Fuck", he growls and grunts, fighting the urge to close his eyes, "good girl. Such a good fucking girl. You’re my best girl with the best fucking pussy."

He drills his cock into you, keeping you from slipping back with his strong hand twisted in your leg tie. You need the support, he makes sure of that by keeping up the rough rhythm. Like this his balls slap against your ass each time he is deep inside you. Like this you squeak like the prettiest little toy and your pussy sounds so goddamn wet that Yoongi has to look down at her again.

It runs out of you and soaks the pillow, droplets of it are sticking to his dark pubes, his cock's tripping each time he pulls out. He can also feel it cover his balls, chasing the sensation with a circle of his hips each time he is buried to the base inside your wet, tight cunt.

"Take me, fucking take me", Yoongi growls angrily, slamming into you with madness in his movements.

"Yoongi please don’t stop" you beg him, voice contorted in pleasure. The blindfold is so soaked from your tears, your head is pounding unbearably.

"No. I won’t. You belong to me. You should remember that", he spits, writing his name right against your g spot. He pulls out afterwards just to slam into you roughly, pulling you on his cock at the same time and making it feel twice as deep, "you're my pretty girl. Mine", he rasps, "wanna keep fucking your pretty, little pussy."

You are barely human at this point, praying for any kind of strength to keep you alive. Yoongi fucks like a madman tonight. Normally the job drains him way too much for fast fucks. On normal days you get slow and deep fucks or if you want to you can ride him stupid. So to have Yoongi rut into you like a crazy animal steals your sanity from you. Because Yoongi’s a goddamn natural in rough fucks. He just needs to be pissed enough for them, fueled by anger at the world and with boiling rage in his stomach. Only then Yoongi fucks fast and rough, using your pussy to punish his demons and wind down in the process.

You won’t ever complain. You love being his stress ball. That shit feels so fucking good to be.

So good in fact that Yoongi’s next flick of his thumb forces a surprise high out.

"Yoongiii", you scream up, dragging out his last syllable as you shake out of control.

"Shit! Fuck!" Yoongi gasps loudly, hips stuttering in surprise, "shit baby, urgh fuck", he throws his head back, "so fucking tight."

"Yoongi oh god, Yoongi please", you keen. You swear that a part of you dies in that high. And resurrects again a second later when Yoongi slips out of you solely to give your cunt the freedom to squirt all over the pillow. It seeps out of your well-fucked hole, soaking the fabric and own skin.

"Good girl, that’s it. Squirt for me", he rasps, rubbing your overstimulated clit to force even the last drop out of you.

"Yoongi please", you sob, crying the hottest tears. The ropes are way too strong, you can't fight them. Holy shit you are victim to his maddened touch if you wanted to or not, "please honey please ah.."

"It's okay baby, almost there. Almost there", Yoongi soothes you. He circles his thumb and forces those last two convulses out of you. They were terribly stubborn, almost making him believe that they would never want to come out.

You wail and fight the ropes. Yoongi almost feels pity for you, but doesn’t. Not when your pussy looks so happy squirting for him. He is so obsessed with it. It’s the visual proof that only he can fuck you that well, that all those years with you made him an expert in your body. Yoongi feels invincible in those moments.

"Please", you barely get it out, trying to close your legs as best as possible.

"It's okay love. You’re already done", he says softly, abandoning your clit to caress your tummy instead, "see? It wasn’t that bad, was it?"

"Yes it was", you whine, sobbing softly, "I'm, I’m so w-weak now."

Yoongi chuckles, "adorable", he rasps, jerking off his cock lazily.

"Don't laugh at me", you whine, "it's your fault."

"I know, I take the blame completely", he says, bending down just to kiss your tummy, "good job, baby. You’ve done so well", he whispers against your skin.

The praise makes you feel so fuzzy and happy. You did a good job. You were his best girl.

"Can I be rewarded?" you ask shyly.

"Rewarded?" Yoongi lifts his head to look at you.

You open your mouth and stick your tongue out.

"Fuck yes", Yoongi full on moans, squeezing around the base of his cock, "I'm the luckiest fucking bastard, baby. You’re so goddamn perfect."

He climbs on the bed behind your head, hovering his cock over your face. You can smell him so well like this. Sweet like your pussy and addicting like his cock.

You tilt your head back, sticking your tongue out further.

Yoongi curses and cups your cheek just to move your head into his prefered position. Seconds later you feel his cock glide into your mouth. He tastes like you and his own pleasure. Sweet and a little salty. It’s a nice combination because it tastes like a good and satisfying fuck.

"That's it", he rasps and sucks in air through his teeth, "fuck", he releases it again.

Yoongi keeps holding your face, using his other hand to support his cock. He rocks back and forth slowly, watching in delight as your lips move around his girth.

"Good girl, the best girl", he rasps and scrunches his nose in bliss, "fuck baby."

You moan around his cock, basking in the sensations like a hungry animal. You love getting your face fucked by your husband. His cock tastes so goddamn good.

He laughs lazily and rolls his hips deeper, hitting the back of your throat repeatedly. You whimper happily, welcoming him with a tingling stomach.

"So good, that’s so good", he lulls with a dizzy head.

His fingers slip from your face to trace your throat instead. He feels it bulge each time he bottoms out, basking in the sensation of your gag and the happy moan that follows. He can feel his balls rub against your face, cursing them for being so goddamn heavy and sensitive. If they weren’t, he wouldn't have to shiver each time he feels your nose against them or the softness of the blindfold.

You moan around him again, throat tight and wet and oh so warm.

"Seriously", he hisses, eyes falling closed, "I'm close baby", he croaks out and finally moans. He doesn’t care that he overshadows your sounds. He feels them around his cock nonetheless and he needs to let those sounds out before he goes insane. Holding back as he fucked your pussy was bearable but not this. Not fucking your face. It feels like fucking paradise and Yoongi needs to moan.

Somehow you seem to begin meeting his movements because of his moans, sucking on his cock as if your life depended on it. Your husband has the sexiest voice, crafted especially for moans. You love when he lets go and lets them out.

"I'm really fucking close", he croaks, breath trembling and throat rattling in a deep moan. He is throbbing inside you, dripping down your throat. Every movement feels like sweet torture, his balls are so fucking tight that he could explode.

You encourage him with a sweet moan, sending the vibrations of it all through his body. You need his cum so bad.

"Baby", Yoongi growls loudly and pulls out just to fucking abuse his cockhead with rapid jerks of his hand, "baby now", he moans deliciously, thrusting his hips against nothing as his cock squirts all over your face. He is shaking like crazy, head thrown back and cock fucking his own hand.

You love this so much, welcoming the warm facial with your tongue sticking out and your eyes producing happy tears.

Yoongi comes down with a graphic curse, slacking and falling on his butt right behind you.

"Holy shit", he croaks, panting heavily.

You mewl and tilt your head back. With one lick your lips are cleaned. You swallow happily, making Yoongi purr deeply.

"You're so sexy", he rasps, "fuck baby, give me a moment. I'll free you."

Yoongi opens your hand ties first, soothing your wrists with soft kisses.

"Good girl", he praises, “does anything hurt, baby?”

“No, it’s just a little sore, but it’s not bad.”

“Okay. I’ll massage them for you later, promise”, he says, kissing each of your wrists once more before moving on to your legs.

He cuts through the ropes. That's what he does. He uses the knife to cut the ropes and it is glorious.

"Really? Again?" you laugh, "we lost so much rope already because of you.”

"I'm too lazy. I can’t be bothered", he says in a chuckle, helping you move your legs to stretch them out and get them relaxed again.

"Mhhm honey, that’s nice", you sigh.

"That's good. You did really well with the ties", he praises, setting your legs down so they were tangling over the edge of the bed.

He pulls the ruined pillow from under you, throwing it on the ground.

"That one's ruined", he says.

"It's your fault", you throw back, making him chuckle.

"I know, I don’t feel guilty", he says, pulling you into a sitting position to take off your blindfold.

You have to blink a few times to get used to the new freedom. When his face finally appears out of the blurriness, he is smiling. He cups your cheeks, wiping your tears away.

"You cried."

"It felt so good", you answer him, making his eyes soften.

"My pretty girl", he whispers, tilting your head up for a sweet kiss.

You feel so giddy, melting in his hands like a chocolate drop in the sun.

Yoongi breaks the kiss just to continue gazing at you.

"Thank you", he whispers.

"For what?" you whisper back, holding his waist.

"For taking my mind off of today. I seriously wanted to set the whole world on fire."

"Don't. You know I’m always here when you need me", you say, making his eyes sparkle in adoration.

"And I'm here whenever you need me, baby. You can count on me. You know that, don’t you?" he whispers, resting his forehead against yours.

"I know", you promise him, reaching up to twist his hair just to make sure he doesn’t leave, "I know baby, I know."

Yoongi nods his head and caresses your temples, letting you know that he is so, so grateful for everything you do but most of all for your existence.

"Fuck", he exhales deeply, "now all I gotta do is go down and face them. Shit, I don’t wanna. I don’t know what to tell them."

"Then don’t. Take a bath with me, let me take a look at the cuts and forget about them for tonight. Sleep. Rest. I promise you'll think of something. There's still tomorrow."

"I guess you’re right."

"I'm always right", you say, making him chuckle and peck your forehead.

"You're lucky I love you", he whispers with a smile.

"I love you too", you say with a grin, standing up just to pull him into a kiss as you guide him to the ensuite bathroom.

And Yoongi follows gladly, forgetting all about the messy future waiting for him tomorrow.

1K notes · View notes

jjungkookislife · 3 days

Text

The Nanny [Ch. 4]

pairing: lawyer!seokjin x nanny!f.reader

genre: established relationship, parents au, fluff, 18+

summary: Jin needs a nanny for his son, but when he hires you, he gets that and so much more.

wc: 7.9k

warnings: pet names (baby, love), implied smut, angst, miscommunication (this was the scene I was stuck on for years), self-doubt, make-up sex, unprotected sex, creampie

date: May 4, 2024

The holidays come and go in your new home, ecstatic to decorate with Dae and Jin. Your family and his get along so well, and everyone dotes over Dae-Hyun, who shies away from so much attention.

With his birthday coming up soon, he’s due to enroll in pre-school and it leaves your heart feeling heavy. You weren’t ready to part with Dae just yet, your life had been nothing but him for almost 2 years, and the idea of sending him off, even if it was just half a day—left you sad.

Seokjin was faring much better though, he was used to leaving Dae at home when he had to go to work, and even though it was rough, he was having to come to terms with the fact that he wouldn’t get updates as often from his new preschool teachers. However, Dae needed to socialize with his peers, make new friends, and learn in a school setting to prepare him for Kindergarten in the fall. Seokjin wasn’t looking forward to that either, the thought had anxiety brewing in his belly.

“What if I homeschool him?” You asked as you stroked Dae’s hair while he slept between you and Seokjin.

Seokjin sighed, shaking his head. “He needs to go to school, baby. We can’t be his only friends.”

“But he’s my little buddy,” you pout.

“We’ll meet his teacher tomorrow and see how it goes. Nothing is set in stone just yet but he should at least go to get acclimated before school starts in the fall. We won’t be there to hold his hand and guide him,” Seokjin reasons as he places his hand over yours.

“I guess you’re right,” you acquiesce, biting your lip before you settle into bed.

“It’s gonna suck,” Seokjin chuckles and your frown deepens. “But it’ll be good for him, I promise.”

“I trust you,” you say, muffling a yawn but Seokjin notices it.

“Go to bed, baby. We'll handle this tomorrow,” you nod, yawning as you pull the covers over you, making sure Dae isn’t covered from the shoulders up.

“Good night.”

“I don’t like it,” is the first thing you say when you step into the large brick-stone building with Dae clutching your hand. Seokjin shakes his head, trying to hide a disbelieving smile.

“It’s been two seconds,” he giggles as he places his large palm on your lower back. He grins when you reach the front desk and your heels click against the marble floor. Portraits litter the wall and a giant bouquet of fresh flowers sits on a table in the middle of the foyer. Chairs that must cost a fortune line the walls in the sitting area, and Dae clings to your side as a few adults walk from one end of the hall to the next.

“It’s so big,” Dae whispers as he looks around. He squirms at your side and you hope he’ll be okay coming here in a few weeks without you. The thought sours your mood further.

“Hello, I’m Kim Seokjin. We have an appointment to tour the grounds and meet my son’s new teacher,” Seokjin says to the secretary as you debate carrying Dae-Hyun and making a run for it. You take a step back and Seokjin turns to face you, raising a dark brow, jaw taut as he eyes you with a firm glance almost daring you to even try it. He lifts the car keys with one long finger and you huff.

“Of course, Mr. Kim. Your family can have a seat, and I will page the teacher up front. It’ll just be a moment,” the secretary informs him and motions for the chairs lining the wall. Seokjin thanks her before he tilts his head in the direction of the chairs.

Ruefully, you lead Dae to the chairs and pull him onto your lap. You squeeze him in a hug for a second as Seokjin sits beside you.

“Baby,” he starts, sighing heavily before licking his lips. “It’s an excellent school with great reviews, and I did background checks on everyone. He’ll love it here.”

“I have to come here?” Dae asks his dad with wide eyes.

“This is gonna be your school, buddy. We’re gonna meet your teacher in a second, okay?” Seokjin asks and Dae nods but looks at you for assurance. You plaster on a smile and thankfully don’t have to say anything as a woman walks up to the three of you, introducing herself as Mrs. Hart.

Dae-Hyun shyly introduces himself, his manners overcoming his shyness, and you couldn’t be prouder. You set him on the floor before rising, linking your hand with Jin’s as you follow Mrs. Hart.

The tour starts with a history of the school, but you don’t pay too much attention as you walk down the hall. You skimmed the brochure on your way here and stuffed it in the crease of your seat before getting out of the car.

Dae-Hyun holds his father’s hand as he walks, marveling over the art that litters the walls on the way to the classroom. The four of you come to a stop at room A-1, and Mrs. Hart opens the door, allowing you inside before she follows.

The classroom is rather large, with three tables separated by bookshelves stuffed with books, coloring boxes, and art supplies. On the opposite end of the room is a large rug, a few bean bags, and more shelves containing toys and books. There’s a play kitchen and a science center with a giant fish tank that immediately gets Dae’s attention.

Mrs. Hart is happy to show him around the room while you stay back with your boyfriend.

“What do you think?” Seokjin asks you in a soft tone, to not get the teacher’s attention. You take in the room, there is nothing too extravagant that stands out. It was a typical classroom, more modern than any you had ever taught in before but it was nice and it appeared clean.

“Where are the kids?” You muse as you see the names of children written on the cubbies.

“They’re out in the playground with my assistant, Miss Daisy. We can go out and meet them if you’d like?” Mrs. Hart chimes in and Dae-Hyun nods before asking his father if it’s okay.

“Sure, Dae,” With Seokjin’s consent, the four of you go out the back door and down the steps that lead right to the playground. There are a lot of children running around but Miss Daisy is accompanied by two other assistants to watch the children as they run and climb on the playground. A few kids look over curiously and two come over to say hi.

“Do you wanna play?” One of them asks and Dae looks at Seokjin, who nods. Dae smiles as he runs off with the kids and Mrs. Hart introduces the staff.

“He seems like a wonderful child,” Miss Daisy comments as she sees Dae already laughing and playing with more children.

“He’s a little shy but he seems to like the playground.” you keep a watchful eye on Dae-Hyun, never losing him in the array of children.

“Is this his first time at school?” Miss Daisy asks and Seokjin nods. Mrs. Hart explains the transition process, going into great detail about their rules and policies and the assessments to see where he’s at.

As much as you don’t like the thought of being away from Dae-Hyun, it eases your heart to see him having so much fun already. He pouts when it’s time to go back inside, talking your ear off as Seokjin handles the paperwork.

“Can I come back soon?” Dae-Hyun asks you as Seokjin shakes Mrs. Hart’s hand once they’re done.

“Of course,” Mrs. Hart smiles at Dae. She motions for him to join her, taking his hand and leading him to a cubbie. “This will be yours when you come back and see me. We’ll have your name right here and we’ll have all your stuff ready for you, Dae-Hyun. After your birthday, we’ll have you here with us!”

“Yay!” Dae-Hyun cheers before returning to Seokjin, who picks him up in his arms. He was getting a little too tall to keep doing so but Seokjin would carry his son until he couldn’t anymore.

“We’ll see you in a few weeks,” Seokjin says as he starts to say his goodbye.

“We look forward to it!” Mrs. Hart exclaims, clapping her hands together.

“Bye!” Dae waves at his teacher, who waves back. Seokjin heads into the hallway as you take one last look around, maybe it wouldn’t be too bad.

“We look forward to seeing you soon. You have such a lovely family, Mrs. Kim,” Mrs. Hart says with a wave. You thank her before following Seokjin, your heart fluttering in your chest.

Mrs. Kim.

“What did you think?” Seokjin asks you that night when he gets into bed beside you. He’s already sleepy but still wants your opinion on the school. You couldn’t talk freely until Dae had gone to bed and showers were taken before bed.

“It’s a nice school,” you say. “I think Dae will like it. It’s just hard to let him go.”

“Trust me, I know. But it’ll get a little easier,” Seokjin assures you. After all, he is his son so of course, he’d know. You just weren’t used to leaving Dae, much less after moving in with them.

“It’ll take me a bit to get used to. What am I supposed to do while he’s gone? Mrs. Jenkins already does the cleaning and packs his lunch,” you frown.

“You could go to the spa, or maybe meet up with your friends,” Seokjin suggests as he wraps you in his arms. “You’ll have more time for yourself. I know you haven’t had much lately.”

“But I like caring for Dae. That’s why you hired me in the first place,” you look at him over your shoulder.

“And now things have changed, baby. You’re still just as important as you were, just with more free time. How about we open a joint account tomorrow so you have some more spending money?”

“Seokjin,” you sigh. “I don’t want more money.”

“Okay, a car?” Seokjin suggests and you huff. You know he’s just teasing you, you’d denied every attempt of him buying you a new car. Yours worked perfectly fine and it’s not like you did a lot of driving now that you lived with him. Seokjin preferred to drive and you loathed it, so it didn’t matter much to you.

“Don’t stress about it too much, baby. You don’t have to do anything if you don’t want to. I’m sure you’ll find ways to occupy yourself. Besides, we need to plan Dae’s party starting tomorrow, and if you want,” Seokjin grins mischievously. “We can work on making another baby.”

“That’s a big decision, baby. Are you sure?” you ask, sitting up to look at your boyfriend. He sits up as well, taking your hand in his.

“I’m sure, love. You’re the only one I’d even consider as the mother of my children. I don’t want anyone else,” he leans in, capturing your lips with his, guiding you to the bed where he kisses you until you’re crying out his name.

The next morning is filled with ruckus. You’ve got the kitchen island in disarray as you look over notebooks and business cards, a tablet opened to a party planner, a laptop displaying your idea outlines, and Dae-Hyun on your lap telling you about all the things he wants for his party this year.

Mrs. Jenkins hovers nearby, knowing it’s no easy feat to plan a party, especially with a child on your lap. She offers to take Dae from you but your sweet boy will have none of it.

“And a bounce house,” Dae-Hyun finishes as he places his head on your shoulder. “We need one of those.”

“So you want dinosaurs,” you pause as Dae roars with his arms high in the air, hopping off your lap to stomp around the kitchen. “And a dinosaur cake?”

“Please,” Dae smiles as he gets back on your lap with your help.

“Sure, baby,” you kiss his cheek as you show him a few pictures on the tablet, liking anything he shows excitement over. Seokjin has given you a budget with promises to help here and there but he knows you enjoy planning events and schedules, so this is your domain.

Last year, Seokjin had thrown a small Paw Patrol party with cake and goodie bags before calling it a day. This time, there would be more children attending, including the ones Dae met at school.

Dae-Hyun loses interest after a while and you continue to plan his party and take notes while Mrs. Jenkins gets Dae-Hyun his lunch.

Slightly overwhelmed by all the options, you decide to bookmark your favorites before setting your tablet aside and having your lunch. Soon it’ll be time to put Dae down for a nap and Seokjin had promised to get off work after lunch. He should be home any moment now.

Just as lunch is wrapping up, the front door opens and Seokjin sings, “I’m home!”

Dae-Hyun grins giddily as he dances in his chair when his father walks into the kitchen. Seokjin greets Dae then you with a kiss on the top of your head.

“You’re home!” Dae claps in excitement and Seokjin nods.

“I left early to see you,” he states as Mrs. Jenkins finishes washing the dishes. Seokjin allows her to end her day then if she’d like and she thanks him before rushing out the door with a see you later.

Seokjin shoots you a confused look and you chuckle. “Dae’s been excited over his p-a-r-t-y.”

“Oh,” Seokjin laughs. “What’s the theme this year?”

“Dinosaurs!” Dae shouts as he roars, and Seokjin pretends to be terrified.

“This little Dino needs a nap,” you state as you pick him up in your arms, and a pout forms on his lips.

“But Daddy,” he cries softly.

“I’ll be up in a second, bud. I’m just getting a drink,” Seokjin assures his son as you head up the stairs to Dae’s room.

He yawns, rubbing his eyes as he goes to grab his pajamas, heading to his bathroom to change and potty before coming to his bedroom.

“Daddy and I will be here when you wake up,” you say as you pat his bed. Dae nods as he steps closer to you, rubbing his eyes.

“Nap time!” You sing as you scoop Dae up in your arms. He finally squeals, laughing as you press several kisses to his cheek. His mood lifted.

“Mommy! Stop!” he squeals, kicking his little feet. You pause, eyes wide as your heart races. You weren’t a stranger to being called mom, mommy, or any variation of it in your field. After all, it was easy for kids to get confused and when they trusted you as much as their parents.

However, this was the first time Dae had called you mommy, and you weren’t sure how to feel. You simply smiled, kissing his head as you asked him what story he wanted you to read. Seokjin lingered by the doorway, a frown on his lips.

“And they lived happily ever after,” you read, closing the book shortly after only to see Dae-Hyun fast asleep clutching his teddy bear. You plant a kiss on his forehead and wish him sweet dreams.

Seokjin is waiting for you in the hallway, with the baby monitor in your hand as he motions for you to join him in his office.

When you enter the office, Seokjin is already in his chair, his face hidden in his large palms, and your heart immediately sinks to your stomach. You haven’t seen Seokjin this distraught since his failed blind dates set up by Namjoon.

“Baby, what’s wrong?” you ask, setting the baby monitor on the desk before going around to your boyfriend. He sighs heavily before raising his head.

“He called you mom,” he spits the word like it’s vile.

“Jin, this happens often with children. I’ll talk to him when he wakes up,” you assure him, but Seokjin shakes his head.

“You’re not his mom and he’s calling you mom. This isn’t right,” Seokjin huffs, a hand carding through his hair.

You step back.

“I may not be his mother, but I love him as if he were my own. Seokjin, what is going on?!” You can’t help but be hurt. Hadn’t he said he wanted a family with you? Shouldn’t this be a good thing? You weren’t trying to replace his mom, nor would you ever abandon Dae, so what was going on?

“I just don’t want Dae to get confused,” Seokjin says sharply.

“I thought you wanted us to be a family? Wouldn’t you want him to see me as a mother figure?”

“Baby-”

“No, you obviously don’t know what you want. You can’t tell me you want me to have your kids and then get all out of sorts when your son calls me Mommy. What is it you want? Because I can’t take your mixed signals, Jin! Either you want us to be a family or you don’t! I already said I’d talk to him, but what’s so wrong with him calling me his mom? I’ve been here for him for half his life now and I don’t plan on going anywhere! What’s wrong with you?” You can’t help but hiss, stepping out of his office.

“Baby!” Jin calls after you, but you ignore him, heading to Dae’s room to cuddle him. He may not be your biological child, but that didn’t mean you loved him any less.

It’s awkward.

It’s been two days since your discussion with Seokjin. Your feelings are still hurt by his harsh words and tone. You’d tried your best to be normal around Dae, but you could tell he was noting the tense atmosphere.

You’d taken to sleeping with Dae or in the guest room, something Seokjin had protested the first night, but let it go when you glared at him.

Seokjin felt bad, and he apologized when Dae had gone to bed that night, but you couldn’t forgive him just yet. He’d hurt you and you needed some space. You tried your best to plan Dae-Hyun’s birthday party, spending your days planning and calling businesses to book them for the day of his party.

“We’re going to my mom’s for a bit,” Seokjin announces when he walks into the kitchen with Dae-Hyun in his arms. For a few seconds, Dae wiggles in his father’s arms before Seokjin sets him down. His son doesn’t hesitate to run to you, your arms open and ready to welcome him in.

“Come here, baby.” You press a kiss on his head. “Are you gonna have fun tonight?”

“Can you come too?” Dae asks as he hugs you close.

“Not this time, buddy. I got secret birthday stuff to do,” you whisper, kissing his cheek as he giggles.

“It’s almost my birthday, right? We’re having a party!” He exclaims as he runs back to Seokjin. He takes his dad’s hand, waving as he talks about his party and the cake.

Seokjin gives you one last look before he heads out of the kitchen with his son. You watch them go, sighing as you shake your head in a poor attempt to clear it.

Papers lay scattered on the kitchen island, most of them were the final decisions for the party. You’d chosen invitations with Dae, showing them to Seokjin for approval, but he had said he’d love whatever you chose for the party.

The little T-Rex on the sample invitation stared back at you, Five-a-Saurus.

Cute.

Sighing, you hope you can have a serious discussion with Seokjin to find out where you both stand. You had honestly believed you were heading toward marriage and what about all that talk about being a family and expanding it? How would that work if he didn’t want Dae to see you as his mom? Had you done something to make him think you weren’t up to par?

You needed to get this cleared up as soon as possible.

Seokjin’s been at his parent's home for an hour now, making small talk and whatnot until his father takes Dae to the backyard to play. Seokjin waits until his son is completely distracted before turning to his mother.

“I don’t know what to do, Mom,” Seokjin sighs, his chin resting in the palm of his hand as he watches his son through the glass door playing with his dad. He had explained the entire conversation with his mother over text this morning, nearly in tears as he asked to come over to see her.

“You can’t let one bad experience haunt you for the rest of your life, Jin. So what if Lena didn’t want to be a mom? It’s her loss. She can’t keep you from loving someone else. Has Y/n ever given you a reason not to trust her?” Seokjin’s mom asks.

“Well… no?”

“She loves you and Dae so much. Anyone could see that. She loves both of you so much, and that’s all I could ever ask for. It broke my heart when Lena walked out. She left Dae without a mother and then Y/n walked into your life like a breath of fresh air. There’s no doubt about it, son, she’s in it for the long haul. She treats Dae like her own, and she loves you immensely. Even I can see that,” she chuckles, placing her hand over her son’s.

“I fucked up, didn’t I?” Seokjin asks, feeling remorseful.

“Language!” His mother exclaims but nods. “You fucked up.”

Seokjin knows it must be true. This is the first time he’s ever heard his mother cuss, so he knows he totally fucked up, and now he’s got to fix it.

“Can you keep Dae for tonight? I’ve got a lot of groveling to do.” Seokjin rises from his stool, the stool screeches against the floor.

“Sure, call when you can,” his mother calls after him as he rushes out to the backyard, kissing his son’s forehead and promising to get him in the morning.

Dae is ecstatic to be spending the night with his grandma and grandpa, knowing he’s in for a day of being spoiled and maybe ice cream for dinner.

“Baby, I’m home!” Seokjin calls as he shuts the door after him, careful with the bouquet he had picked up on his way home.

“In the kitchen!” you call back, sending the last email you needed for Dae’s party. Dates were confirmed with the bakery, the party supply store, and the caterer. You felt lighter now that most of the party is taken care of and despite your fight with Seokjin, you’re hoping he’ll like everything you’ve picked out for Dae.

Seokjin is timid as he steps into the kitchen. You glance up from your laptop, raising a brow when you see the bouquet in his hands.

“What’s up?” you ask cautiously.

Seokjin bites his lips. “I wanted to apologize for how I reacted the other day and for what I said. I was out of line, and you’re right, I was sending mixed signals.”

You remain silent, shutting your laptop to give your boyfriend your undivided attention.

“The truth is, I got scared.” Seokjin pauses, licking his lips as he crosses the room. He lays the flowers on the kitchen island. “Dae’s never called anyone mommy, and I got scared you’d leave like she did.”

“Seokjin,” you start, but he stops you. He shakes his hair out of his eyes as he inhales deeply. You rise from your seat, going around the island to take his face in your hands, his eyes locked on yours.

“I’m not her, Seokjin. I love you and I love Dae. I’m here to stay, but I need you to be in this with me. You and Dae can decide what he calls me. He can call me mom or he can call me by my name. I love him as my own and I want to give him siblings someday, but I need you to be sure of what you want, Seokjin. I know I’m not Dae’s mom, I know. I’m here to be your partner, to be there for Dae, and to build a life with you if you’ll have me. But we need to be on the same page, Jin.” you say as you stroke his cheeks.

Seokjin nods, a hard feat when you’re cradling his face in your hands. “I’ll talk to him, baby. I’ll do what he says and I am sorry for what I said and for the way I reacted. I do want us to be a family and you’ve done nothing but love us from the get-go. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, Jin.”

Seokjin hadn’t taken your fight lightly. That same day, he had scheduled an appointment with a therapist to work through his issues. He didn’t want to start a marriage (in the future) with doubts and insecurities hanging over his head.

He’d allowed Dae to stay the night at his parent’s house while the two of you went over his birthday party timeline. You were excited to show off everything, giggling when Seokjin would say he liked what you picked out.

That night, Seokjin takes you out to dinner, apologizing again as he holds your hand in his. He delicately strokes your ring finger, imagining what it would be like with an engagement ring. He flushes. He truly was lucky to have you in his life, and he wouldn’t let this relationship fizzle because of him.

“Tomorrow we’ll pick up Dae and ask what he wants to call you,” Seokjin whispers as he leads you to your bedroom, his hand in yours as he loosens his tie.

“I think that’s a great idea,” you agree as you take your earrings off and place them on the dresser along with your pearl necklace.

Seokjin approaches you, looking at your reflection in the mirror as his arms wind around your waist. His lips press a kiss on your shoulder and you move your hair out of the way to allow him more room.

“I love you,” he murmurs against your soft skin. His large hands grip your hips and squeeze. “You’re the best thing to ever happen to us. You know that, right?”

You smile. “You know I feel the same way, right?”

Slowly, Seokjin kisses his way to your neck. His hands move over your body to your zipper, where he pulls it down enough for your dress to fall forward. He’s pleasantly surprised to see you’re not wearing a bra when he meets your eyes in the mirror.

“Oh?” he raises a brow as his fingertips brush your skin.

“Figured there would be make-up sex,” you shrug with a smirk as you turn to face him. Seokjin wastes no time in kissing you, his hands cradling your face as your fingers work on taking his tie off and unbuttoning his shirt.

Fiery kisses meet your neck as his hands grip the back of your thighs to lift you onto the dresser. Your fingers run through his hair, tugging on it to pull him into a kiss that leaves you vibrating. His tongue pushes past the seam of your lips and you moan softly against him.

You want to savor him, take things slowly but you’re also in need of a rough, quick fuck that makes your eyes roll back.

Panting, Seokjin presses his forehead to yours, almost as if reading your mind when you get off the dresser.

Turning you quickly, your palms grip the edge of the dresser as Seokjin hikes your dress up to bunch at your hips. With a lightning-like quickness, Seokjin is undressed and the head of his cock is pressed to your wet folds.

“Oh, fuck,” he curses. Seokjin’s forehead rests on your shoulder. Your eyes meet his in the mirror and he stares intently at you for a moment before he turns your head and his lips capture yours in a deep kiss that leaves you breathless when it ends.

Seokjin grips your hips, moaning into your skin as you tighten around him, his hand between your thighs rubbing your clit.

You tremble beneath him, his name escaping you repeatedly until you’re falling apart for him.

“That’s it, baby. Come all over my cock,” he grunts, moaning your name as he cums right after you.

“Fuck,” you groan as you try to hold yourself up on shaky hands. Seokjin chuckles, kissing your shoulder before he pulls out.

“I love you,” he states as he looks at your reflection in the mirror. You lace your fingers with him, squeezing them. “I love you too.”

You were running around the house like a chicken with its head cut off, a weird expression but it seemed to fit the mood.

Dae-Hyun was at his grandparents' home. He had spent the night so he wouldn’t see the preparations for his birthday party in a few short hours.

Seokjin had a therapy appointment in the morning but he would be back in plenty of time to help set up and welcome the caterer and decorator. You were handling the cake delivery, moving everything in the fridge to make room for the three-layer cake you had ordered.

You hadn’t slept much last night, too stressed about everything going right today. You wanted everything to be perfect for Dae-Hyun.

“Baby, I’m home!” Seokjin calls as he shuts the front door and you inform him you’re in the kitchen.

He appears moments later with a grin and a large bouquet. “I knew you’d be freaking out over the party so I got you these.”

Your heart melts, thanking him with a kiss on his cheek.

“Thank you, babe. It’s my first party for Dae and I need everything to be perfect for him,” you pout.

“It will be. Relax,” Jin chuckles. “Just let me know what you need me to do.”

“Have a look at the cake,” You tell him as you grab a vase and fill it with water for your flowers. Seokjin does as he’s told, grinning when he sees the dinosaur cake sitting on a shelf.

“Oh, he’s gonna love it! Hell, I love it! That’s the coolest birthday cake I’ve ever seen!” Seokjin is smiling from ear to ear. He knew you’d throw an amazing party for Dae and he hopes as the day goes on, you’ll be able to enjoy it.

“Guests will be here in three hours and Dae in one. Your mom will get him dressed and he’ll have time on the bounce house before everyone shows up,” you inform Seokjin.

“Awesome,” Seokjin nods. The doorbell rings and the decorator shows up with her team. They get to work and in less than two hours, your home is decorated to the brim, the main focus being the backyard and kitchen.

The caterer shows up shortly after and Seokjin finishes preparing the last of the goody bags.

Dae-Hyun comes running straight to your arms and you cover his eyes with a laugh.

“You little Rugrat,” you scolded playfully. “You weren’t supposed to come in here yet.”

“He’s a quick one,” Mrs. Kim chuckles as she enters the kitchen with her husband. A gift bag is looped on her wrist and she sets it on the gift table at the opposite end of the kitchen.

“I wanna see,” Dae whines and you exchange a look with Seokjin as you both head out into the backyard. Excitement fills your body as you count down from three and move your hand off Dae’s eyes.

“Wow!” Dae is in awe as he looks around the backyard. There’s a giant bounce house and decorations all around. There’s an area where the kids can dig for “fossils” and another where they can learn about dinosaurs and make their dinosaur masks. And of course, Dae’s playground where kids can run around all day.

Dae grabs your hand, pulling you to the bounce house. Seokjin follows the two of you, laughing when Dae urges you into the bounce house with him. You hold his hand and jump with him for a bit.

“Mom!” He squeals and you grin. After your talk with Seokjin. The two of you had sat down with Dae-Hyun and allowed him to choose what he’d call you. Dae had immediately wanted to call you mom, and that was that. Seokjin was grateful he hadn’t ruined your relationship with his panicked outburst and he was working on his issues with his therapist. He was doing well and he knew someday he’d want you to be his wife. To spend the rest of your lives together.

“Come on, Dae, Mommy has to go change!” Seokjin exclaims and Dae pouts.

“Do you want Daddy in here while I change?” You ask Dae as you stop jumping. Dae nods and Seokjin looks at the bounce house entrance.

“Babe, I don’t think my shoulders will make it through,” he states with worry.

You cackle, dropping to your knees to open the entrance a little more for your boyfriend’s wide-ass shoulders. He thanks you as he slithers in with a grunt from the struggle.

“I don’t think this was made for adults,” he comments as he tries to stand and ends up falling and bouncing Dae in the process. You shake your head, scooping up Dae-Hyun.

“You watch out for Daddy, okay?” You press a kiss on Dae’s forehead before heading out. Dae stomps to his father, who is struggling to stand before giving up and sitting in the middle while Dae hops from one end to the other, his laughter filling the bounce house.

By the time the party is in full swing, you’re busy playing host while Seokjin tries to get you to enjoy yourself. His parents have taken the time to help out and yours have arrived shortly after. They both dote on Dae-Hyun, and he hugs them tightly before he runs off with children from his preschool.

You’ve met a few of the parents, speaking more to the ones whose children have taken an interest in Dae. A few of the mothers eye Seokjin longer than necessary and you bite back your jealousy knowing he’s yours. Nobody would take your little family away from you. You wouldn’t allow it and neither would Seokjin.

When it’s time to cut the cake, Dae-Hyun is speechless as he sees Seokjin carefully carrying it outside to the table. Dae stares at it with huge eyes, fingertip gently touching one of the dinosaurs. He claps his hands when Seokjin lights the candles and you make sure none of the kids are close enough to ruin your son’s moment. You guard him, and Seokjin bites back a smile as he stands beside you. Mrs. Kim is taking picture after picture while her husband films on his phone.

“Make a wish,” you whisper to Dae, who closes his eyes and makes his wish before blowing out the candles. Cheers and applause fill the backyard as Seokjin cuts the cake, handing the first slice to his son before the caterer whisks the cake back into the kitchen to cut it and her staff serve it to the guests.

Dae-Hyun takes off running with his friends after he’s had cake and you're wary as he enters the bounce house.

“That seems like a bad idea,” you whisper. Seokjin agrees as he scoops his son out of the bounce house with his friends. They protest but are soon occupied with Mr. Kim in a T-Rex inflatable costume as he chases the kids around the yard.

You laugh as you watch from the sidelines with Seokjin at your side, his hand on your lower back. He kisses the top of your head, “Thank you for doing this. It’s the most I’ve seen him smile.”

“I’ve got bigger plans for next year,” you admit with a shy smile. Seokjin shakes his head, smiling. “I knew you would. Care to share?”

“Nope,” you stick your tongue out at him and he rolls his eyes playfully.

“Ever the tease,” he snickers, kissing your cheek.

“I think it’s time we handed out the goody bags and sent everyone home,” you state as the kids start falling asleep on their parents' lap after a while.

“I think you’re right, baby,” Seokjin agrees as he steps away to thank everyone for coming. A lot of the parents are grateful, taking their children who are worn out from all the fun and sugar to go straight to bed.

Your parents and Seokjin’s are the last to leave, offering to help clean up but you’ve got a cleaning service stopping by tomorrow to take care of it. Dae comes straight to you, his head on your shoulder and his eyes barely open.

Seokjin kisses his cheek, smiling when he wipes some frosting off his son’s face. “Well, he’ll be sleeping through the night.”

“Definitely,” you agree as you take him upstairs to bed. You change him into his pajamas, promising to open his presents in the morning when he’s more alert. He dozed off within minutes and soon you’re back downstairs with Seokjin.

“Is he asleep?” He asks as he places the leftover food in the fridge. He had encouraged the guests to take home plates of food and cake but there was still a bit left over.

“Passed out. He ran around a lot today. He can use the bounce house tomorrow for a bit before they come to pick it up,” you inform Seokjin.

“He loves that thing. Me? Not so much,” Seokjin grimaces as he rubs his shoulder.

You walk closer to him, your arms draped over his shoulders. “Does it hurt?”

“Nothing you can’t fix with those pretty lips of yours,” Seokjin teases. You smack his back lightly and his laughter fills the kitchen before he turns to face you.

“Thank you for today. Dae-Hyun had the time of his life,” Seokjin says seriously. His hands grip your hips as he holds you close.

“You don’t have to thank me, babe. I would have done it regardless. I love him,” You respond as you take his hands in yours. “I love you too.”

“Come on, let’s go to bed.”

“But I’m not tired,” you protest.

Seokjin smirks. “Neither am I.”

“Nope! I h-a-t-e it!” You cross your arms over your chest as the car stops.

“Baby, come on,” Seokjin whines as he unclips his seatbelt. “He’s gonna know you’re nervous.”

You sigh, sucking it up as you get out of the car with a frown. You allow Seokjin to get Dae-Hyun out of the car, taking his hand to lead him into the school.

You stomp your way up the front steps after them, not wanting to leave Dae-Hyun alone all day.

“He’ll be fine,” Seokjin assures you as you walk down the hallway to room A-1. Dae is bouncing with excitement, eager to see his friends again after his party.

Once you reach his classroom, Mrs. Hart welcomes you with a bright smile as she greets Dae. Shyly, Dae greets her before she walks him to one of the tables where his friends sit, all of them waving and greeting him cheerfully. They're having breakfast at the moment and you wish you could stay by his side all day.

“Come on, love. We can’t stay,” Seokjin reads your mind and you sigh. You blink back the tears that burn at the corner of your eyes and wave gently at Dae. Seokjin is faring slightly better but he clears his throat and takes your hand in his before leaving at Mrs. Hart’s suggestion.

“We’ll call if we need to,” she promises as she sends the two of you off.

In the hallway you lose it, stopping near the entrance to cry. Seokjin holds you to his chest, rubbing your back.

“It’s okay, baby. You can come get him at 2. He’s gonna be okay,” he assured you and you cry until you can’t anymore. Seokjin leads you to the car, grabbing some tissues from the glove box to dab at your eyes. You blow your nose and sanitize your hands after.

“I miss him already,” You pout.

“It gets easier,” Seokjin promises. “I miss him too but he can’t be isolated. Me, you, and Mrs. Jenkins can’t be the only ones he sees, baby. He needs his friends.”

“I know you’re right but that doesn’t change the fact that I miss my little buddy,” you sniffle as Seokjin pulls out of his parking spot. He’d taken the morning off for Dae’s first day of school but he’d be back in the office in an hour or so.

“You know,” Seokjin muses as he drives further and further from the school. “I always thought when this day came, I’d be the one sobbing my eyes out.”

“Don’t make fun of me,” you whine pitifully and he smiles.

“I’m not, baby. I just think it’s sweet you care so much about him,” he states as he brings your hand to his lips. “But no, you can’t take him out early on his first day.”

“How did you-?”

“I can read your thoughts, baby,” he laughs as he drives you home. You use the ride home to calm yourself but you’re frowning the moment you walk through the door and realize you’re on your own.

“It’ll be okay. It’s just a change in routine,” Seokjin assures you before he’s heading out for the office. You sit on the couch after he leaves, turning the TV on and placing your phone on your lap.

You count the hours until you can pick Dae up.

“Mommy!” Dae squeals when he sees you at pick-up. You hug him tight as you take his backpack and carry him out of the classroom.

“Did you have fun?” You ask as you take him to your car. Now that Dae was in school, Seokjin had suggested he get you a new car and the more you thought about it, the more you considered it. Besides, if Seokjin had plans of making you a (biological) mother, you’d need more space. Which was why you’d be going car shopping this weekend.

“Luke and Max are my friends!” Dae exclaims as he tells you about his day while you situate him in his car seat. You place his backpack in the footwell and get in the driver's seat. You immediately lock the doors once you’re inside the car, looking in the rearview mirror before you pull out of your spot to head home.

“And tomorrow we get to play outside!” Dae cheered.

“That sounds fun!” You exclaim as you turn into your neighborhood. “Do you want a snack when we get home?”

“I ate at school,” he assures you as he tells you what his snack was as you pull into the driveway. You listen intently, helping him out of his seat before grabbing his backpack and leading him inside the home. He greets Mrs. Jenkins, filling her in about his day at school. She listens intently, asking questions about all his friends while you sit on a stool and text Seokjin.

[You]: got my little buddy back!

[Seokjin 🥵]: good! I’m wrapping things up here so I’ll be home soon. We can get dinner later

You agree before placing your phone down. Mrs. Jenkins ruffles Dae’s hair before he runs off to the living room to play.

Mrs. Jenkins gives you a warm smile. “It gets easier.”

And it does get easier as the days turn into weeks and months. You still get sad when you drop him off and you’ve been picking up new hobbies now that you’ve got the time but none of them seem to stick.

Pilates and yoga weren’t for you. You tried jogging, archery and badminton. Tennis, soccer, volleyball, and hockey. Jujitsu, Karate, and kickboxing, that one was Jin’s least favorite. He hated seeing you bruised after a few sessions.

You then switched to knitting, embroidery, painting, and pottery but you quickly realized you weren’t good with your hands outside the bedroom. So you turned to baking and decorating but that proved to be a challenge and you soon ended up back on your tablet and TV, binge-watching every show you could find to keep yourself occupied.

Seokjin tried his best to help find something you’d enjoy that wouldn’t put you in harm's way but everything seemed to be challenging and you quickly lost interest.

“What about party planning?” Seokjin suggested one night while Dae was asleep on your chest.

“Party planning?” You asked, puzzled.

“Yeah,” Seokjin nodded. “You did a fantastic job with Dae’s. What if you did it part-time on the side? Start small with friends and family and build yourself up from there if you’d like.”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I wouldn’t have a lot of time for Dae.”

Seokjin blinks before laughing, stopping when his son stirs in your hold.

“My parents' anniversary is coming up. I’m sure my mom would love some help,” Jin offers, and you give in.

“I’ll give it a chance,” you agree hesitantly.

And slowly you build your little business. It starts with a few parties, but soon word of mouth gets you booked and busy. You only work when Dae’s in school, and limit the amount of weekends you can attend the parties you plan to make sure they run smoothly. You’re not sure if it’s a career you want to do long term, but you enjoy it when Dae’s at school.

“We’re going away for the weekend,” Seokjin announces on a Friday evening.

“Last minute?” You ask as you grab a duffel bag. Seokjin nods.

“I think we should go to the beach house. My parents have one nearby and Dae can stay with us or them if he chooses.”

“Hmmm?” You muse as you pack your bag. “Suspicious.”

Seokjin laughs. “How is that suspicious? You said you wanted to go back with Dae?”

“I do, but It’s out of nowhere,” you reply as you grab your toiletries.

“Work has been a bitch,” Seokjin admits. “I just want to relax at the beach with my girl and my son.”

“Fair enough,” you give in as you finish packing your bag. Seokjin has his ready to go along with Dae’s and he’s soon carrying them down the stairs and into the car.

Your new car is a shiny black SUV with 3 rows of seats that you insisted were too many. Seokjin, however, had pulled you aside and promised to fill every single one with one of your babies. You bit your lip and met his smoldering gaze, thighs pressed together as heat flushed over your body.

Seokjin smirked knowingly, licking his lips as he stepped away to talk to the salesman. And that had been that.

“Do we have everything?” You ask as you get into the passenger seat. Seokjin straps Dae into his car seat, nodding as he finishes and gets in the driver’s seat.

“Yes, baby. I got the sunblock and all his toys and extra clothes, just in case. Anything else we can buy,” Jin assures you as he starts the car. “My parents left this morning so they’ll be there already.”

“Okay.” you yawn as you lean against the window. You try your best to stay awake, but soon you and Dae-Hyun are asleep.

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#seokjin fanfic #seokjin x f. reader #seokjin fanfiction #seokjin fluff #dilf!seokjin #the nanny!seokjin #seokjin x reader #jin x you #fic: the nanny #seokjin smut #seokjin au

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jjinnies · 2 years

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Trial & Error — Prologue (Kim Seokjin).

This content belongs to and is created by @jjinnies (2022). Please do not copy, translate or plagiarise! I do not own any members of BTS, this is a work of fiction - my written work does not provide insight into how any mentioned idol is in real life. This content is fictitious. Genre & Warnings: kim seokjin lawyer!au, swearing/profanity, mentions of murder, smut included in further chapters (minors please dni!), gore and violence in case details, enemies to lovers!trophe, specific warnings will be provided before relevant chapters.

—

"Jiha."

"Seokjin."

The air in the room seemed thick enough to slice.

Both sides of the jury shifted in their seats, feeling an immense amount of pressure on their shoulders as the two lawyers ahead of them settled behind their respective desks. But not before giving each other a curt nod and an even more assertive greeting.

Purely out of formality.

As Jiha pushed back into her seat to read the room, her fingers gripped the rejuvenating liquid that was her coffee. Her inky orbs scanned the judge, gaze trailing towards the police team, the Coroner, other alleged affiliations, and finally, the main suspect.

Meanwhile, her opposition, Jin, examined her.

Confident, assured, polished— it was clear that he was up against a fair opponent.

If only they were working for the same side.

After the affluent businessman Kim Taehyung and his family are killed in the dead of the night, the fear of murder in cold blood rises throughout the community. And when Seokjin's co-worker informs him of the family's butler and sole witness to the crime, Park Jimin, being apprehended until further case development, Seokjin adopts the role of a posthumous lawyer to deliver justice on what really happened within those ten fateful, unretrievable minutes.

But his plea in court is challenged by an equally skilled lawyer, Jung Jiha, who is tasked - determined - to prove Jimin as the true murderer of the family.

Amidst the suspicious nature of the case, Jiha and Seokjin have just one month to justify what really happened that night in the Kim mansion.

But the dark, ugly secrets unravelled during the court case may force each lawyer to abandon their perspectives, to question their sanity and reality at the same time. They're up against each other, but they must work together to deliver the truth and only the truth.

Two lawyers, one case.

May the best lawyer succeed.

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hobicakess · 4 months

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PLAYING DANGEROUS | bts rapline [m.list]

rating: 18+ (I'm not your mother you're in control of what you consume)

pairings: Journalist!Reader x Criminal!JungHoseok x CEO!Kim Namjoon x Detective!MinYoongi.

warnings: smut murder, blood and gore, Jack In The Box Hobi, corruption, workplace abuse, yandere characters, possessive/obsessive behavior, dubcon, short hair namjoon (yes that's a warning), black/plus sized coded reader, violence from every single aspect, police brutality, mircoagression towards woc, lawyer kim seokjin, maknae helping cause chaos, manipulation, drugs and addiction, unhinged serial killer hobi, yoongi hates his job, namjoon loves his job (he gets to piss you off everyday)

authors note: howdy hotties! this fic was heavily inspired by this post, i don't think it'll be 30 chapters but something about it just spoke to me and itched my writer brain. even though the mc is black coded anyone can read ofc!! the teaser will be out sometime today or tomorrow night. if you'd like a tag pls comment below. Reblogs are appreciated and check out my other works (ෆ˙ᵕ˙ෆ)♡

©hobicakesss , please don't repost or steal my work. don't be a loser

teaser | one | two | three...

#bts x black reader #bts x reader #yoongi x reader #dee recs.#jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #dee reblogs.#hoseok x reader #bts rap line #rapline x reader #min #yandere yoongi #yandere bts

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anonnie-in-wonderland · 1 year

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Home Calls the Heart

Summary: Twenty-year old L/N Y/N realizes she might be, okay, is a little bit of a social pariah. But there’s not much she can really do about it. Until a dreary winter day, when a determined, persistent dog hybrid named Taehyung shows up and declares that he’s interested in adopting her for himself and the rest of his lonely pack.

chapter: five

Word Count: 8.9k+

rating: T (uh, once again none I can think of this time)

genre: romance | hurt/comfort| magic AU

tags: bts x reader | ot7 x reader | hybrid | poly| FM!reader

Emperor Penguin!Seokjin, Golden Retriever!Taehyung, Coyote!Hoseok, Mountain Lion!Yoongi, Wolfdog!Namjoon, Kingfisher!Jimin, Holland Lop!Jungkook

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Author’s Note: Thank you everyone for your patience. I really thought I’d have had time to put this out a lot sooner than this, but it was just too busy. But I hope this can be like a holiday gift maybe!

The rabbit stood stiffly off to the side as his family (and their guest) prepared the table. Like Namjoon, everyone had been both surprised and relieved to see him out of the room and willing to join them, greeting him with smiles and a few hugs.

They backed off quickly though, probably scared they were going to overwhelm him if they made a big deal about it for too long. Jungkook supposed it made sense they would treat him as fragile, he was the youngest so it was already a given they babied him for years. Then when Gramps left them suddenly he did kind of check out.

Admittedly, when Jin-hyung mentioned a guest staying overnight, Jungkook hadn’t thought about it. The information slipped away almost as fast as it registered. He had more important things to wallow about think over. And, even if he had been paying attention, the pack maknae would have just come to the conclusion it was someone they already knew.

The neighboring farms, spread out as they were, had known about Gramps. They sent condolences or a few dishes for the boys to eat while the lawyer helped break down his will and the hyungs made funeral arrangements. Why would any of them bring a new person around when they were all still mourning?

Clearly, a lot had happened since he’d shut himself off, because the human girl among them was brand new to him. She had to have been new to the others too, because they didn’t keep secret friends from each other.

“Um, so, anywhere in particular I should set this?” the newcomer was asking Jin. She held up the plate of eggs she had been given. (Y/N). Namjoon-hyung said her name was (Y/N).

“Somewhere near the middle is fine,” Yoongi answered instead, walking by with a big, chilled pitcher of orange juice to place. “If any of these uncivilized heathens want some, they’re not shy about taking their share.”

Even Yoongi-hyung was acknowledging her? Jungkook barely held back his look of surprise. Being that Yoongi was born a wild hybrid, and had spent a portion of his childhood that way, he was more wary of new humans than most.

Gramps and a few of the old man’s associates that came around over the years and were trustworthy were about the only exceptions. Every other non-hybrid person that came into their space got the cold shoulder for the most part.

“Speaking of that, (Y/N) you fix your plate first.” Jin instructed, finally setting down the amazingly fluffy, mouth-watering stack of pancakes. “I made more than usual but I still doubt there’ll be any extras.” Jungkook’s nose twitched as the warm steam wafted into his nostrils, carrying the sweet and gooey fragrance of cinnamon rolls.

His hyung was definitely a culinary genius. Fusing breakfast pancakes and dessert should have been a crime, it was so good.

“It’s been so long since hyung made these,” Taehyung stated, tail wagging. “I don’t think I can hold back.”

“Do you ever?” Namjoon muttered, though there was a small smile on his full lips.

Once everything was out and set up, everyone scrambled to take their seats. Jungkook went for his usual spot slowly, noticing that (Y/N) hung back, looking painfully out of place. She was still wearing Taehyung’s coat, though it was open, revealing Jimin’s pajamas.

The minute he had seen that, Jungkook grew more curious than ever about who she was to the others. Yeah, sometimes if one of their friends came over and spent the night they might borrow a change of clothes, but not a female friend.

“Wait,” Taehyung brought attention to the same thing he noticed, absently placing his hand on Namjoon’s wrist before it could bump his glass. “(Y/N) hasn’t sat down.”

That was when everyone turned their attention on the awkward female standing by, then glanced around the table. All the spots had been set but one, and Jungkook had taken up his usual one.

There was only one seat left, and there was something about it that made offering it up wrong. Gramps. Gramps’ spot remained empty and untouched, chair tucked neatly in. Evidently, even their guest could sense that was not a seat for the taking, as she had opted to just stand around instead of sitting there.

“Oh, it’s no big deal,” she assured them. “I can eat at the counter…”

“You don’t want to sit with us?” Taehyung pouted, the puppy eyes in full effect.

“It’s not that!” She said quickly, “I just…”

“Just grab an extra chair and we’ll all scoot down.” Yoongi mumbled, “It’s not that big of a deal. I’m hungry and ready to eat.”

Blinking, the others nodded slowly, seemingly okay with that suggestion.

(Y/N) made her way to an available stool just as Jimin got up to fetch it for her, ever thoughtful. Their hands landed on it at the same time, and they both paused, then shared a brief chuckle.

“Let me,” Not taking no for an answer, Jimin picked it up easily and brought it to the table, placing it between his chair and Hoseok’s. (Y/N) thanked them and sat down, allowing breakfast to continue.

While it was true he’d only been nibbling at his meals the last week, suddenly the low hunger pangs in his stomach were making him regret that. His fingers loosely gripped the silverware, waiting a little impatiently as a girl he had never seen before got to take her time preparing her own plate at Jin and Taehyung’s insistence.

Finally she was done, and just like that, everyone sprang at the food simultaneously, the loud clambering nearly drowning out Jin’s scolding about having some manners. Jungkook was so used to it, he didn’t even bat an eye, holding his own just fine against his hyungs as he secured a stack of pancakes, eggs, and a few links of sausage. Jin didn’t cook Western often, and he wanted to savor it. But his stomach had other plans, and when he stuffed the first few heavenly bites in his mouth, the bunny would admit he wasn’t sure he tasted it until after it went down.

“So, what do you think?” Hoseok asked (Y/N) conversationally, keeping an eye on his plate in case anyone got greedy and snuck a few bites. They loved each other, but everyone in the household knew all was fair in food and war.

“Good,” she hummed, having another bite after swallowing the first. “Really good. Thank you for letting me share this meal with you. It beats the energy bar and coffee I usually wolf down in the morning.”

“It’s nothing,” Jin smiled, clearly pleased with her approval of his cooking. “It’s the least we can do since you put up with this one’s insolence,” he waved his hand at Taehyung, who tucked in closer to his plate and avoided Jin’s eyes, “And helped with Jilju this morning.”

Jungkook perked up at that. He hadn’t planned to say much unless someone addressed him directly, still equally curious and cautious of the girl among them, but he couldn’t ignore anything that had to do with his horse. Outside his hyungs and Gramps, she was the one he was closest to on the farm. “Jilju? What’s wrong with Jilju?”

“Oh, nothing now.” Namjoon popped some eggs into his mouth, grinning deeply in a way that brought out his dimples. “(Y/N) was able to take care of it. It was very impressive.”

(Y/N) sank down a little, trying to hide a small blush in her shoulder. “Just doing my job.”

“How’d that go, by the way?” Jimin urged, cutting up his pancakes into neat pieces the way he always did before eating. “What was wrong?”

He turned to (Y/N) curiously, and Jungkook watched her closely as well, head full of questions.

“Well…where to start…” she paused, lowering her fork with sausage on the end. “She was a little anxious, for one. I think I got through to her. I reassured her that she’s doing the best she can by Jungkook, and that there’s no need to worry about losing her connection to him.”

“Why would she think that?” Jungkook frowned, then turned to his nearest hyung, Yoongi. “How would she know that Jilju thinks that?”

“Because,” Yoongi had opted for coffee instead of juice, and the strong smell of the brew singed the hairs inside Jungkook’s nose a bit. How his hyung chugged that stuff black he would never know, “Our new friend here has magic, and her gift is understanding the emotions of animals.”

“And hybrids,” Taehyung added proudly.

Jungkook only stared at the girl, who squirmed slightly, awkward smile in place. “Magic?” He repeated.

“Mhm,” Namjoon nodded, “You know, the rare individuals who are born with a special ability? I’ve read a book on it that—”

“I know what it means, hyung,” he said, then cringed inside when Namjoon’s ears drooped. His hyung was always so genuinely excited to share what he learned with them, and they all listened indulgently, even if they had heard him rambling about it a hundred times. He really hadn’t meant to sound like he didn’t care, he was just struggling to understand.

How had his colony come across a human with magic? Did she come just to check the animals then? They had all acted like they understood that Gramps wasn’t coming back, so he wouldn’t be surprised that it had impacted their moods. “Sorry…” he mumbled at Namjoon. “I just don’t get it. Why would Jilju tell you what was worrying her if she didn’t tell me?”

“Sometimes it can be…hard…for animals to communicate some things to us, even when we share a strong bond. Sometimes they deliberately try to avoid worrying us,” she said patiently.

Jungkook shoveled more food in his mouth and tried to avoid pouting. When his hyung’s food tasted so good, it was normally hard not to be happy but right now…he was a little annoyed. Some stranger turned up and it felt like she understood his friend better than he did.

“That’s…not all.” (Y/N) shared, smiling as everyone looked at her curiously. “It turns out Jilju is also expecting.”

“What?” Jimin gasped, speaking in unison with Jungkook, who dropped his fork.

“Yeah…” Namjoon rubbed his neck. “It surprised me too. Remember when one of the horses from Mr. Lee’s farm escaped and we found him the next morning?”

“Jilju’s pregnant?” Jungkook couldn’t believe it. His horse? Was going to be a mother?

“Apparently,” (Y/N) chimed in, “Surprise, and um, congrats!”

Jungkook said nothing, still processing that information.

“We’ll have to make sure she has enough rations,” Yoongi mused. “She’s eating for two now.”

“And we’ll keep the stable comfy-cozy for her,” Hoseok sang.

“You’re an uncle, Jungkook!” Tae clapped, the faint thump of his wagging tail easy to pick up with his sensitive ears. “And we might not have found out so soon if I never met (Y/N) yesterday. I knew I picked a quality human.”

“Yesterday?” Jungkook was a rabbit, not a parrot, but it felt like all he could do was squawk out every word that blindsided him. “You met her…yesterday?”

Taehyung nodded.

“Then why is she here?”

“Jungkook,” Jin huffed, “That was a little rude, don’t you think?”

“Not really,” (Y/N) disagreed, “it’s fair.”

“Why did you say ‘picked a quality human’?” He said, ignoring her. The longer she was here, the more Jungkook felt his discomfort grow. What was going on?

“Because—”

“Long story. Not Tae’s most well thought out decision, either.” Yoongi smoothly disrupted whatever the dog was about to reveal, and Jungkook glared a bit.

“Can’t you just tell me what’s going on?” The bunny insisted, aware he sounded the part of the petulant youngest brother, but also irritated with being kept in the dark. “Who are you?” he asked (Y/N).

“Tae’s heart was in the right place…” Jimin sighed, “He just didn’t think it through, like hyung said.”

“Taehyungie brought (Y/N) home, because he thought having someone new around could cheer us up.” Hoseok explained carefully, to which the younger canine hybrid nodded in agreement.

That explained…a little bit. They loved Taehyung and his spontaneity and eccentricity, but sometimes it caught everyone off guard. “Why her, specifically?” Jungkook pressed, “Because she’s got magic?”

“I didn’t even know that when we met, actually.” Taehyung admitted, hiding in his curls sheepishly. “She just…seemed nice. I got a good feeling.”

Their hyung had brought a random human back to them, when they were all still so upset at losing their main caregiver and father-figure, off of a ‘good feeling’?

The rabbit could feel his foot tap irritably. “What?” His voice came out flat, unimpressed. “That’s stupid, hyung.”

“Yeah, it was,” Yoongi rolled his eyes, stabbing into his pancakes with extra force. “But we’ve been over that already. We talked, we fought, some of us cried…” His glittering emerald eyes slid to Taehyung. “It was a whole thing.”

“I haven’t been over it,” Jungkook protested, “I’m not over Gramps! I…I thought none of you were either!”

“We’re not,” Namjoon said calmly. “All our hearts are still broken.”

“Right now it doesn’t feel like that, hyung.” he hissed, full on glaring at (Y/N), making her flinch. “I don’t care how special a human she is. She’s not Gramps.”

“Here we go again…” He heard Yoongi say.

Jungkook began to collect his food with the intention of retreating upstairs, because like hell he’d be able to enjoy it like this, and there was no way he was leaving it or throwing it out either.

(Y/N) also lurching to her feet at the same time was the last thing he expected, and he instinctively stilled, cradling his plate protectively while making himself bigger.

Thanks to Gramps indulging him years ago when he said he wanted to work out and get stronger, the youngest hybrid was well aware he wasn’t built like an ordinary bunny.

They were genetically predispositioned to petite or average frames, and because of their prey genes, putting on muscle—except maybe in their legs—did not come as easily for them as it did for predators.

But with dedication and hard work, Jungkook had made himself someone to be reckoned with, and now when they went out, predator hybrids gave pause as they tried to size him up.

His scent was still recognizable to them as rabbit, if they got close enough, but he didn’t get intimidated after living and growing up with several of his natural predators.

Plus his size helped him stand toe to toe with the snake, cat and fox hybrids out there who might try making him uncomfortable.

Needless to say, an average human like (Y/N) had no chance. He could tell her first instinct was to back down. But she swallowed it down in the next second, her eyes determined, “Wait, please don’t leave.”

Jungkook stopped, unable to help himself. What could she want to say? Nothing was going to change his mind about her not being a suitable replacement for Gramps. No one was.

“You weren’t at the meal yesterday, so you didn’t hear it but…I’m sorry.” One minute she was speaking, the next minute she was bowing deeply. “I’m sorry for your loss, and I’m sorry for making you uncomfortable. It doesn’t matter about what the circumstances were that brought me here, it still ended up causing pain, and that’s my fault.”

“(Y/N),” Taehyung sounded like he wanted to object, but she straightened, shaking her head.

“It’s the truth.” She said firmly. “The choice to follow you here, even when I learned you wanted a new family member, that was on me. I should have used common sense and stopped you, especially knowing you didn’t live alone.” Nervous energy poured off of her as she played with her sleeve. “Also I…I lost someone too.” Judging by the silent reactions, this was information none of the others had heard before. “Not as recently as you did, but he was a very dear friend to me, and the eight months I’ve spent without him have been really hard.” (Y/N) bowed her head mournfully.

Jungkook looked at her, really looked at her. He would have never assumed she was also missing someone as deeply as he was missing Gramps, but then he’d only just met her, and how she felt wasn’t his priority so much as wanting her to go away.

Oblivious, or ignoring everyone’s staring, (Y/N) kept talking. “So I relate to that pain you’re all going through right now, and I’d never disrespect your bond to a member of your family by trying to force myself into that dynamic or think I could fill a hole that large in any of you. Everyone we ever love is special. Different.”

Her voice cracked on the last word, so briefly only a hybrid could have heard it. “I’m glad I could help solve your problem with Jilju, and thank you for letting me stay the night and even have breakfast, but if my clothes are dried, I should go. Everyone here’s been great, but you deserve your home back.” Cleaning up her spot hastily, (Y/N) stood in the kitchen doorway and gave them one last bow, eyes full of sincerity, then scurried out of sight.

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

She came down the stairs, almost dreading running into anyone. Why did she have to keep making a mess of things with these hybrids? They’d probably be glad to be rid of her.

Who wouldn’t want to free themselves of a pest. Gathering the meager things she had arrived with, neatly folding Jimin’s borrowed pajamas after changing back into her clothes, and stripping the sheets (knowing how sensitive hybrids were to smell, and figuring Jungkook wouldn’t want her scent in the middle of his room), (Y/N) was pretty much ready to go.

Creeping down the stairs, she found it was quiet, and glanced around unsurely. While she wanted to be out of their hair, leaving without saying goodbye would be…rude. But so would wandering around their house in search of someone.

Luckily, the sound of voices conversing in another room gave her an indicator about where everyone might be, and she mustered up her courage to go find them.

Peeking her head in, she found Namjoon, Jin, Hoseok and Yoongi talking amongst themselves at the kitchen bar, though they all looked up immediately. Damn. No way to go undetected when super hearing was in the mix, huh?

“All set?” Jin asked.

(Y/N) nodded. “I am. Thanks to you, and sorry again for the trou—”

“Apologies are played out, don’t you think?” Yoongi interrupted, appearing bored as his long tail swished lazily. “We’re not interested in hearing any more of them.”

“This hyung’s always so shy about showing new people how he feels.” Hoseok giggled, pinching Yoongi’s cheek affectionately. “But he’s just trying to say none of us think you have anything else to apologize for. It’s been talked over, and in the end it was just a misunderstanding, right?”

(Y/N) frowned, shifting her weight from foot to foot. “But, Jungkook—”

“He’ll be okay.” Namjoon reassured her, his ears flickering. “In time anyway. Right now he’s working out to blow off steam instead of holed up in Gramps’ room again. That’s big progress.”

“Plus he ate all his food.” Jin practically swooned.

“Yeah, kid’s gonna be back to eating us out of house and home in no time.” Yoongi chuckled, the fondness in his voice clear.

“See, no permanent damage done.” Hoseok concluded.

“Well…that’s a relief.” (Y/N) grinned weakly. “Anyway, I really should get—”

“Hyungs!” Taehyung’s excited shout made her jump, but the four hybrids siting around the bar didn’t appear surprised at all.

“No one listens to my rules,” Jin groaned. “I say no running. I say no yelling in the house. I say put your clothes in the hamper and not on the floor. Am I talking for my health?”

“At this point…” Yoongi mused, though he didn’t finish when Taehyung burst in.

“Oh, (Y/N)!” He greeted her, face lighting up as soon as their eyes met. “I’m glad you’re still here.”

The pup still kind of gave her whiplash, but somehow, (Y/N) thought she might have been getting used to it. “How come?”

“Cause the lake’s frozen,” he said gleefully, “And you know what that means?” He asked his hyungs. They glanced between each other, quiet. “We should play outside. Have a snow day. We haven’t done that all season, and—”

“Tae, you brat,” The airy voice of Jimin complained from behind them. (Y/N) turned to see him wearing a scowl and trudging through the front door the dog had left open. “Why’d you take off like that? And after I helped you get your tongue unstuck from…oh.” His eyes widened when he noticed the crowd in the kitchen and doorway.

“What’d he get his tongue stuck to?” Hoseok pressed curiously.

Taehyung shrugged, “Jimin dared me to lick a sheet of metal.” He tattled nonchalantly.

“I didn’t think you’d do it!” The avian hybrid exclaimed, throwing up his arms, wings rustling.

“You two can’t be left unsupervised for more than ten minutes.” Yoongi sighed. “You were supposed to be making sure all the animals had enough blankets and fresh hay.”

“We did,” Taehyung’s tail was slowly gaining speed and his ears had a slight lift, “Then I noticed what a good snow day it’d be. C’mon hyungs, please?” (Y/N) had not been around long, but she absolutely knew what was coming next, and turned to preemptively shield her eyes just as Taehyung made his bigger, rounder and more innocent pitiful. “You should join us too, (Y/N).”

Gah, oh no! He turned the force of his gaze on her, and gently clasped one of her hands for good measure, trying to tug the other one down.

“Hmm…I guess all of us haven’t been outside much besides tending to the farm.” Hoseok murmured. “We use to roam the property and play outside all the time. Maybe it’d be okay to indulge the pup this one time,”

“One time’s enough for a fun time,” Taehyung cheered.

“‘One time’ is enough to make it a habit.” Yoongi corrected. “You think we met you yesterday, pup?”

“Still, what’s it hurting?” Jin added his two cents. “Winter weather feels great to me.”

“Hyung, that’s a given,” Namjoon pointed out, “But okay, I guess a little time outside wouldn’t be so bad.”

Taehyung clapped, “Meet you all out at the shed!” He put a hand on (Y/N)’s shoulder. “You can come wait for us near the ice.” The next thing she knew, she was being steered towards the door.

“Hey, hold on,” Jimin huffed, “Don’t just drag her around without letting her decide for herself. And she’ll need a coat, hat, gloves and boots if she’s coming out with us. She’s not resistant to the cold.” he ended, rolling his eyes at the dog’s impulsiveness.

“I…thanks for the invite but I don’t wanna get in the way…”

“Please,” Taehyung not only used the eyes this time, but hit her with a very puppy-like whimper, and (Y/N) crumbled like a sandcastle kicked over.

“Okay…just a little while though.”

Taehyung gleefully brought her to the hall closet so she could borrow some winter layers again.

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

The glistening lake caught the weak sunlight of the winter sky, sparkling like a diamond that had just been given a polish.

The farm really was an idyllic winter scene right now, (Y/N) marveled. The trees were bare and the snow was heaped up all around, but it was still manageable to get around the property.

She waited patiently by the lake, which was conveniently next to the shed Taehyung had mentioned. It could have been its own little house, and even boasted a small porch. The boys had ran right into it, promised they’d be back shortly, and closed the door.

‘I didn’t see Jungkook join them though.’ (Y/N) couldn’t help but think about the last person she had blindsided, staring off into the distance, where she could make out the main house.

Was he still exercising? Did he know they were going to play outside? He shouldn’t have to miss a time to have fun with his family just because she was being included. Doubts about staying started to creep up again, but before they could consume her too much, the shed’s door creaked open, and out waddled a very impressive, tall emperor penguin.

(Y/N) gasped, gazing at the proud bird in awe as it bobbed over to her, stopping a short distance away as if waiting for her to be done admiring him. “S-Seokjin-ssi?” It had to be him, right?

The flightless bird bowed his head in confirmation, turning completely around once so she could see all of him. His sleek body was beautiful, and perfectly designed for this element.

(Y/N) had only seen penguins on TV and once from behind a glass at the zoo. Nothing did justice to Seokjin’s impressive form. And when he stepped onto the frozen lake and gracefully began skating around, (Y/N) was even more gobsmacked. “Wow…”

A bark disrupted her admiration of Seokjin’s moves on the ice, and she found a familiar golden dog bounding towards her.

Taehyung got into a playful crouch as he approached, tail fanning high behind him. (Y/N) giggled, bending to meet him. “So this is what you had in mind?”

He yipped, spinning in circles and then taking advantage of her proximity to lean up and lick her cheek before lunging away.

(Y/N) put a gloved hand over the spot, jaw dropping as she watched Taehyung run and roll around in the snow. More of the hybrids emerged from the shed, two more canines following him.

There was a slender but well-muscled coyote that trotted out calmly and sat on his haunches to watch Seokjin skating and Taehyung playing. Followed by a large, bi-colored canine of intimidating stature with intelligent eyes. Namjoon for sure.

His thick, black coat was streaked through with silver, something (Y/N) doubted was from age. It looked like a natural pattern, and a cool one at that. His thick tail waved once, and then he stopped next to Hoseok and observed too. “All your animal forms are so beautiful.”

Hoseok’s ears went back and his eyes got round, a smile on his muzzle. He was the normal golden brown of a coyote, but with a russet undertone more prominent now that he had shifted than it was before. He tilted his head back at the shed and barked, sounding like he was beckoning someone.

A short, feline snout popped out, and then slowly a whole head. (Y/N) watched the big cat watch them, until he decided to place one paw outside the structure, and then another.

Soon a mountain lion was stalking silently from the shed with all the languid grace of an apex predator. (Y/N)’s heart skipped a beat as his gorgeous green eyes found her, then turned to his fellow hybrids as if to say, ‘I’m out here, now what?’

Taehyung quickly took care of that, seizing on his opportunity once he saw his hyungs and running straight for them. Yoongi grumbled, lifting a paw as if to stop him. It didn’t even make the dog break stride, and he tumbled into the other hybrids, licking them all mercilessly in the face and yipping cutely as if to thank them.

(Y/N) had to hide a giggle when Yoongi swatted at him with his tail and Taehyung caught it in his mouth, tugging on it and trying to pull him in closer by it.

Although that seemed to annoy the mountain lion, his tugs to reclaim his appendage were half-hearted at best. Hoseok joined in, though he seemed to be on no one’s side but his own.

One minute he was pulling Yoongi’s ear and gently getting cuffed for it, the next he was nosing at Taehyung’s sides like he was trying to tickle him, and it got the dog to let go and show his belly, evidently still ticklish no matter what form.

(Y/N) almost didn’t notice the last presence, one hovering close to her face, until the cutest little chirp drew her attention.

A deep blue bird was flying right next to her, and when she studied him, he chirped again. “Ohh, Jimin-ssi, your plumage is so shiny.” The bird landed on her shoulder, puffing out his chest in pride as she grinned. So little, so cute.

Seokjin, noticing the rough-housing happening on the snowbank, glided over to join everyone.

Soon five hybrids were chasing each other around, occasionally someone getting tackled and going down with a face full of snow to show for it. (Y/N) stood and watched, not sure if she should be joining or keeping out of the way.

Jimin had flit from her shoulder and was egging the others on, tugging at their fur and then darting away when they looked over their shoulder. He’d peck someone and then zip up into the air before they could even think about getting him.

But given that he was so small and delicate in this form, (Y/N) couldn’t imagine them playing with him the way they were playing with each other.

Taehyung slid into her legs as he failed to skid to a stop in time, and she watched him roll onto his paws and shake off. He barked, tugging at her pants and whining when she only blinked. “Are you asking…”

He barked again more urgently, tilting his head at the others, who were all peeking over at them. “How would I join in?” She asked, genuinely curious.

Seokjin kicked snow with a foot, honking.

Squinting, (Y/N) watched him clumsily mold snow into a lumpy ball and then point at it with a wing. “You can’t really be asking me to have a snowball fight with you.”

Taehyung swooped down on Jin’s snowball and lobbed it as best he could, hitting Namjoon in the ear when Hoseok ducked. Namjoon growled, snatching up a mouthful of snow without bothering to mold it and trying to return fire.

Jin squawked as Taehyung hid behind him, refusing to abandon his living shield no matter which direction the penguin turned in.

Raising a brow, (Y/N) quickly made a snowball and threw it at the dog. He yelped as it hit his flank, his large blue eyes full of betrayal. Though it almost made her feel bad, (Y/N) grinned at him. “Sorry, sorry, but it was only fair, right?”

Namjoon took the opportunity to pile on, flinging another snowball he had made while they were distracting that Taehyung took under the chin.

The light tweeting Jimin did sounded suspiciously like laughter as the dog barked dramatically, picking up snow in his mouth and chasing his hyung with it.

The fast wolfdog ducked behind Yoongi, who nearly got bowled over by Taehyung. The big cat took that as his sign to join in, pinning the dog down and making him swallow the snow he was holding.

There was nothing but vindication in those sharp emerald eyes, and (Y/N) watched in interest as Hoseok brought a snowball he had made to her and then ruffed quietly. “Are you saying we should team up?” she whispered.

Jimin flew down and landed on the coyote’s head. “And you want to be on the team too?” He confirmed with a chirp. “Think we can really take them all on?” The two hybrids nodded in determination. “Alright, then let’s get some distance first. Come up with a plan of attack.”

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

Heart pounding after his workout, Jungkook removed his boxing gloves, swiping his bangs from his eyes and grabbing for his water bottle. He had forgotten how good the burn of his muscles after an extended session in the gym felt.

The rabbit hybrid sighed, not hearing any sounds in his vicinity, and guessing everyone must be downstairs. He shuffled into the hall’s bathroom and began to strip out of his sweaty workout gear.

Better to get clean now before Jin-hyung caught a whiff of him later and complained. Besides, sometimes a warm shower helped loosen up the sore muscles and made the whole post-workout come down feel even better.

Adjusting the water to the right temperature and waiting patiently, Jungkook glanced in the mirror. He looked at the circles beneath his eyes, and touched a piece of hair that had fallen into his face.

It’d been a while since his last official haircut. Gramps used to give them himself, but once they got older and started to complain about wanting to look more fashionable, he began taking them into town for a professional to do it. Lately, Jungkook had been thinking of growing it out though.

Maybe his bangs could use a touch up, but the ends of his hair feathered past his ears, just the way he wanted it. His floppy, velveteen ears could use some attention and grooming as well.

They had always been soft and silky to the touch, according to his family. But Jungkook could tell the difference. Dragging himself to shower every other day or so for the last week meant the texture had fallen below his usual standards. To him they felt oily. Nothing a quick shower couldn’t remedy now, though.

He lathered his hair in the lightly scented shampoo already there, letting the water run over his muscles and trying to piece together what had happened downstairs.

So, while he was alone in Gramps room, Taehyung had met (Y/N). A human girl from the park nearby. She was…pretty normal, except the having magic part. If it were any other time, he might be kind of intrigued, but he was still put out by how she had come to be in their house.

When she left, he would talk more about it with his hyungs, and they would reassure him that no one would be allowed to come in and join their family so suddenly. Especially not some silly girl from the park. Everything would be alright…

Eventually, his shower concluded, and he made the short trip down the hall to his bedroom. It had been a while, Jin or someone else normally bringing a change of clothes for him to Gramps’ room.

So he was unprepared by the unfamiliar scent that buffeted his nose as soon as he walked in. He took a sniff and his nose instantly crinkled. What…was that? Who was in his room?! The last sheets were off the bed, bagged up and ready for the laundry. A clean set had been put on tidily in their place.

But Jungkook could practically taste it in the air. That new scent. (Y/N).

They really let her use his room? All his hyungs knew how sensitive he was to scents.

Technically, all hybrids were scent-sensitive, but having spent his early life the way he had, it was particularly amplified in Jungkook’s case.

Sliding on some clean clothes quickly, the bunny hurried to his bedroom window and wrenched it open. The crisp winter air flowed in immediately, sending a chill down his neck. Relieved, Jungkook stuck his head outside and breathed in the clean mid-morning air with his eyes closed.

Nature smelt so good. The world was blanketed in a soft layer of snow, on the fencing separating the path from the fields and the roof of the barn and even on the shed way out by the lake. It was probably frozen. Jungkook squinted out in that direction, seeing several figures darting around, seemingly having a great time.

A fond memory surfaced, Gramps taking his hand and leading him out onto the ice, teaching him how to skate when he was very small. Then Taehyung came sliding into them, and everyone went spinning across the ice like newborn foals.

Come to think of it…someone had poked their head in the gym and told him they were going out to play in the snow for a little while, and that he was welcome to come along. But Jungkook had been so focused on his workout, it really hadn’t registered.

Hesitating there at the window, he watched the four-legged creatures bounding around each other, able to make out most of his hyungs. Jimin was impossible to spot from here if he was shifted, though.

Joining in did seem tempting. He was still hurting, of course. That was unlikely to change soon. But Gramps wouldn’t want him holed up inside all day. Maybe it was fine to get out, get some fresh air and enjoy the company of the others…

All those thoughts came to a crashing halt when he made out an extra figure, up on two legs and running amongst the animals in the snow. Wait, was that…?

(Y/N) again. Didn’t she go home already? For a second, Jungkook contemplated not even going out there. Avoiding her until she left seemed like the best bet.

Then, he thought about the fact that he was letting some new person who wasn’t even staying keep him from spending time when his hyungs, and he had missed them.

Defiantly, he went digging in his closet for a warm hoodie and his snow boots.

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

Laughing, (Y/N) went down hard, falling to her knees and placing her arms over her head. It didn’t stop the onslaught. She was repeatedly pelted from behind by sizable snowballs, the hybrids having gotten quite good at making them without hands.

Hoseok brushed by her, barking, darting around Namjoon and distracting him with seemingly innocuous play. At some point the strategy had kind of fallen apart, and they were improvising.

Though that meant it was hard to tell who was winning. She, Hoseok and Jimin had taken the others by surprise, but not for long.

Who knew they would have such a vicious competitive streak? Except maybe Yoongi. Kind of just seemed like he was only riled up because he kept getting pelted every time he tried to shuffle off to the side and watch.

“Tactical…” (Y/N) said through her giggles, “retreat!” She went crawling away, dragging herself to the shed with the hopes of getting a moment’s reprieve.

Her cheeks had to be as red as a cherry by now, and her throat burned a little from rapidly inhaling the cold air. Even her fingertips felt a little numb, despite the borrowed gloves. Still, it was the most active she had been in a while, and the game was a lot of fun.

Lurching up on her hands and knees, (Y/N) dove behind the shed, taking cover (and the opportunity to catch her breath) with a grin. She wiped some slush from her eye, peeking behind her to see Hoseok trying to dodge the opposing team and join her, with Jimin’s little body no where in sight amidst the larger hybrids and snow flying everywhere.

Hopefully he was safe and up high. (Y/N) sighed, wondering if she should be planning a rescue, barely containing a startled squeal when she nearly came nose to nose with a very…large…rabbit.

Its black nose twitched, and the big golden brown eyes watched her steadily. The animal was what (Y/N) would most certainly class as ‘a unit’—a wall of muscular fluff. She’d never seen a lop-eared bunny so big and defined. “Um, hello…” she whispered, “Did you come to see what was going on?”

The rabbit eyed her down, unmoving and somehow, unamused. A loud growling-bark sounded from just behind her as Namjoon tumbled from a well-timed push, and (Y/N) moved to protect the smaller animal on instinct. Big bun or small bun, she still didn’t want him squished.

What she hadn’t counted on was the rabbit reacting like it did the minute her hand moved to bring him in close to her chest.

(Y/N) hissed, immediately retracting her hand, eyes widening as her fingers throbbed where his teeth had sank into them through the glove. She didn’t think he’d broken skin, but his powerful little jaw had moved quick as lightning with a warning bite.

He turned his back to her, his long back legs kicking snow in her direction, and the action felt almost scornful. Then he hopped away, out into sight of the others, who stopped and made excited cries as if to welcome him to their game.

‘Duh, of course that’s Jungkook.’ (Y/N) winced, easing her glove off to inspect her hand. ‘I probably overstepped just now. I wouldn’t want a stranger touching me without warning either.’

There was a light tap on her shoulder, and (Y/N) twisted her body to see Jin towering over her. He honked, tilting his head and appearing puzzled. “Are you asking me if I’m okay?”

His sleek head bobbed.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” she said hurriedly. “I guess I’m tired. That was a long, intense game, right?

Taehyung trotted over, dipping his head as he studied her and then whining loudly. “Let’s say your team won, huh? That was fun. Thank you. I think I really should get going though. Gotta check on my car and all.”

Shaking himself off, the dog ran into the shed with a loud crash. “Wait,” she heard him shout from inside, voice echoing through the cracked door. “I’ll get dressed and walk with you.”

More hybrids walked into the shed, (Y/N) heard a chorus of voices and some light squabbling. “Don’t you think you’ve clung to her enough already? One of us could also walk her back.”

“But!”

“I think one of us tagging along is a good idea. Taehyung would just stall on purpose.”

(Y/N) inwardly smiled. However short her time had been with them, they had made her life more lively than it had been in a while.

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

The crunch of the snow beneath her feet felt extra noisy. In comparison, her two escorts were silent as they all reached the parking lot. (Y/N) found there wasn’t anyone around, and no other cars left unclaimed, so it was easy to spot her vehicle, half buried under a mound of accumulated snow, but intact.

Huffing, she marched over, careful not to trip, digging out her key and unlocking the driver’s side door. “Well. This is my ride.” She told the two hybrids, smiling gently. “Thank you for seeing me back safely, and for hosting me too. I wish there was some way to repay your generosity.”

“It was the least we could do.” The older hybrid gave a single rough pat to Taehyung’s head, “Don’t mention it.”

The dog stepped forward, bangs falling slightly into his wide blue eyes, “So this is goodbye?”

“Uh, well…for now?” (Y/N) stammered, unsure why she felt so overwhelmingly guilty. “But you know, maybe not forever.” She extended a hand toward him, “You’re a nice guy, Taehyung, and you’ve got a good family. No matter how it happened…I’m glad we met.”

After staring at her hand, he slowly grasped it, giving it a firm squeeze. It wasn’t quite a handshake, but a parting offer of comfort. Sadness flowed through the touch, but not like she had felt before. It was touched with…hope. “Take care of yourself, okay? And don’t approach just anybody eating a hamburger on a bench anymore.”

A faint smile tugged at his lips briefly, “You take care too, (Y/N).”

Leaving Seokjin and Taehyung in her rear view mirror felt a lot like abandoning an opportunity to finally have some new friends.

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

“Hold him steady!” One of the zoo staffers yelled. Several grown men groaned and grunted as they wrestled with the belligerent kangaroo (Y/N) was supposed to be seeing.

The feisty animal twisted, eyes screaming murder as he managed to smack one of the people restraining him with the thick tail attached to his backside. Before (Y/N) could get any closer he had broken free with one mighty kick, leaving the poor zoo keeper dazed and sprawled on the ground, clutching at his ribs.

She winced, hoping he would be alright. “Tae-hui,” she called. “Please stop. I know we’ve never met, but I’m here to help.”

The kangaroo was clearly still rearing to go given his body language and the way he was bouncing around, so (Y/N) dared not press her luck until she saw if she got through to him.

Why couldn’t all animals in need be as easy to work with as Jilju? The horse had just needed some patience and understanding words, and she was compliant by the end. Thinking of her last encounter using her gift outside of work brought back memories of the farm.

And the boys.

How were they doing now? Was the grief of losing someone so dear to them any better, or just ramping up? It had been about a week, and she still regretted not at least suggesting they keep in touch.

Then again, what if they didn’t want to? How could she explain she was lonely and desperate for companionship? They might think she was a pushy creep.

“Yah!” Someone yelled.

Tae-hui was coming her way, someone comically trying to hold him still again with the kangaroo paying no real mind. (Y/N) braced herself, ready to get out of the way if needed. Just another day in the life for her…

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

Lips twisted lightly, (Y/N) used her thumb to scroll down the page pulled up on her phone, trying to check what ingredients the recipe called for while steering the shopping cart. The last thing she wanted was to run over anyone’s toes in her quest to try cooking pad see ew. It was worth expanding the palette every now and then. Or maybe even she was tired of her own cooking and needed something new.

Either way, (Y/N) was determined to give it a go. If only she could find what she needed. “Did they change the store’s layout around?” she mumbled to herself. “The noodles should have been on that aisle I just passed…” Continuing on, she did manage to find and grab some of the sauces the recipe called for. A few evening shoppers also milled about, (Y/N) passing an older woman deliberating over two brands of soup, an impatient youngster standing near by. “Halmoni,” the boy sighed, “My feet hurt. Can we please have dinner?”

“Ssh,” she hushed absently, waving a hand without looking at her grandchild.

Quietly walking by them, (Y/N) reached the end of the aisle, veering her cart sharply to avoid a store clerk who was mopping up a spilled mess from a broken jar.

She heard the gasp in time to avoid running into the woman who was coming out of the aisle she was entering, a shopping basket dangling on her arm. “Oh, sorry.” (Y/N) mumbled. “Are you alright?”

The woman said nothing, making unnerving eye contact and then slowly squinting, “Wait…(Y/N)? (L/N) (Y/N)?” Heart skipping a beat at the recognition, she tilted her head, trying to recall where the woman could possibly know her from.

“…Yes?”

“It’s me,” the lady gasped, moving a bit closer with a smile. “Gosh, how long has it been?”

“I…I don’t…”

“Do you really not recognize me?” She whispered. “It’s Choi Taeyeon.”

“C-Choi Taeyeon?” The name immediately elicited very vivid memories, some more pleasant than others. “I…” (Y/N) took a deep breath, pasting on a grin that was hopefully more excited than awkward looking. “It’s been so long. How are you?” Choi Taeyeon had once been her best friend. A proper greeting was the least she could do, right?

Finally having been acknowledged properly, she beamed, a pretty, gleaming white smile ringed in a blush shade of lipstick. Taeyeon’s stylish bob fell neatly around her shoulders, and her pink cashmere trench coat was cute and fashionable. She looked great.

In comparison, (Y/N) stood in her normal work attire: khaki pants and a polo-shirt, bundled up with a sweater and coat for layering. There was no dressing glamorous when working with animals. Who knew if she would be slobbered on, clawed at, peed around, or otherwise get dirty.

‘I probably look like a drowned rat!’ (Y/N) suppressed the urge to reach up and smooth down her hair.

“Busy as ever.” Taeyeon sighed, “I’m afraid it’s starting to show on my face.” Of course, it was just fake humility. They both knew she looked excellent. “I followed my dreams and moved to Busan to work a nice job at a news station for the last two years. Now I’m back in Seoul and I’ll be covering national events.”

“That’s awesome,” (Y/N) remembered when they would talk of their dreams together. Taeyeon had at first wanted to be a weather girl, but by graduation her sights were set much higher. “I’m not surprised.”

“What about you? What are you doing these days?” (Y/N) cringed inside, hoping they could politely go their separate ways after exchanging pleasantries. They hadn’t exactly parted ways on the best of terms… Once a painfully shy girl with a stutter, Taeyeon had hit it off for (Y/N), the class black sheep, in elementary school.

After all, they were both excluded in activities by their peers, or picked last, or avoided. Sensing a kindred spirit, (Y/N) eventually befriended Taeyeon, and they had stuck together from then on.

When her power surfaced for the first time, outside her father, Taeyeon was the first person she told. Months later anyway. Although they shared everything with no secrets between them, magic was not as usual anymore, and people who had it could face a variety of reactions from others. The last thing she wanted was for her closest friend to see her differently.

The guilt of hiding something from her unsuspecting best friend left a throbbing pain inside. When she finally felt ready to share the truth, Taeyeon had listened with fascination. Relieved that she no longer had to hide, (Y/N) never imagined the way it would all change when they reached high school…

“I’ve been…around. I work with animals.” She explained vaguely.

“Oh, that sounds like you,” Taeyeon giggled with a nod. “Same old (Y/N), huh?”

(Y/N) smiled weakly. “Yeah…same old me.” When could she be on her way? The longer she looked at Taeyeon the more she wanted to cry, all the memories rushing back. And that was not acceptable.

“Well. It was nice to see you,” Finally, that sounded like the end of a conversation if she ever heard one! “Maybe we could have a coffee date, catch up someti—”

Taeyeon stopped talking, mouth parting a little. (Y/N) quirked a brow, confused by her sudden awe. A large hand landing on her shoulder nearly made her jump, and she squealed, chopping at the stranger behind her, only to come face to face with a pair of bright blue eyes she had seen in her mind all week.

“T-Ta-Taehyung?” She breathed.

“(Y/N)!” The dog hybrid said, voice full of happiness. “I knew it was you. I told you it was, hyung.”

Jin and Hoseok were there too, both of them staring at her with surprise and then smiling. “How’s it going, (Y/N)?” Seokjin greeted, “Long time no see,”

“Y-Yeah,” (Y/N) was smiling so hard her cheeks hurt, almost forgetting all about Taeyeon still gawking behind her. “That’s crazy, running into you guys here.”

“We don’t normally shop here.” Hoseok admitted, “But the pup insisted,” he motioned to Taehyung.

“I told them this was a grocery store a lot of people go to on this side of the barrier, and maybe you shopped here too, so every time we need anything I ask to come here.”

(Y/N) gaped. “Y-You had no idea if I’d even be here tonight.”

“I had a feeling I’d get lucky,” he countered, pride twinkling in his eyes.

“U-Um,” Taeyeon shuffled into view, tugging at her coat. “You know them?”

She was looking at them like she was in the presence of celebrities, and it struck her then that they were all very good-looking. “Hi, I’m Choi Taeyeon.” Her former friend bowed.

Taehyung eyed her curiously, then turned to (Y/N), who shrugged uneasily. “I’m Taehyung.” He said. “Those are my hyungs,”

“Jin.” Seokjin nodded politely.

“Hoseok.” Hoseok put in.

Neither of them were acting as taken with Taeyeon as she was expecting. Since her transformation in high school, Taeyeon always had her pick of the boys wanting to date her.

“Well,” she fluffed her hair. “I’m an old friend of (Y/N)’s and I’m back in town for the first time in a few years. I was just suggesting we go for a coffee date, but maybe you’d like to join us?” She asked, her voice lowering into a subtle purr.

(Y/N) wanted to hide her face. All this and all she wanted was to get her ingredients and make dinner. Although she was over the moon that she happened to see the boys again.

“I’m sorry,” Seokjin apologized. “It’s not the best time for us to have social engagements. We recently had a death in the family and are still in mourning.”

“O-Oh!” Taeyeon gasped, “I’m so sorry! I didn’t…my condolences!” She slid a hand into her purse and took something out which she passed to (Y/N). A business card. “Let’s arrange something later (Y/N). I won’t hold you any longer.” She bowed, then waved with a cute smile at the boys. “Maybe some other time when things are better for you.”

(Y/N) blinked, hiding her surprise. When Taeyeon had finally walked away, it felt like all the tension went with her, and her shoulders slumped as she leaned into her shopping cart. “That was…exhausting,” she whispered, forgetting she was in the presence of beings with superior hearing.

“Yeah, we could hear your heart thumping a mile away.” Hoseok said sympathetically. “Are you alright.”

“Yes,” she said truthfully. “Now I am. Thank you.”

“Was she giving you a hard time?” Taehyung questioned.

“Not exactly…” (Y/N) thought of how to put it. “It’s just…we were old friends a long time ago and we parted ways not on the best of terms. I wasn’t expecting to see her here.”

“Friendships that end awkwardly can be tough,” Seokjin hummed. “Though it really is a pleasant surprise to run into you again. This one was sulking for days because he wanted to reach out to you but didn’t have your phone number.”

Taehyung reached into his hoodie, eyes bright and hopeful. “This time, can we exchange numbers?”

“Wait, really?” (Y/N) couldn’t believe it. He felt the same way she did. “You wouldn’t mind?”

“I told you that I like you, (Y/N).” The dog said patiently. “And Jiminie said you promised to be his friend, so why can’t you be mine too?” The accusing whine went straight to her heart, and before she knew it, she was handing him her phone.

Author’s Note: I promise Jungkook is a sweetheart. lol It’s just that he’s finally at the place in the mourning process where he comes up for air, and then there’s a big change shoved at him right away, so he’s a little overwhelmed and uncomfortable. And taking it out on (Y/N). Things do get better between her and our bunny boy (in time). Also a gentle reminder that if you change your handle, please let me know or me tagging you may not work! I tried my best, but some people’s blogs or gone or they just cannot be tagged now for some reason.

**TAGLIST IS CLOSED**:

@sunoosult @hesmyphenominiall @taradevonne @childfmoonn @stcrwhiz @ghostkat23 @colourlyhobbit @juju-227592 @iconicjk @cestlabellemort @squishyturtle @singukieee @jcrml @neyneythepainaway @emu007 @mojojojothegreat @daydreambrliever @dinorahrodriguez @cosmos-d-clouds @blackrockshooter780 @hydroyaksha @tinyoonsblog @toughbook @4evahevah @7dilemma7 @yoursoontobestepmom @jiminie-08 @black-rose-29 @malewife-supremacy @do-as-you-dont @yoonseok-jjang @mageprincess7 @pipminnie @sinceritythatcouldntbedelivered @kodzuskook @doublebunv @nonbinaryidiot @silscintilla @amarokofficial @bangtanxberm @kimsaerom @aurorasymphonies @kawaiikpoplover268 @anacbm

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hobeemin · 1 year

Text

fool’s gold

💰 genre: angst, smut, drama, established relationship au, lovers to enemies

💰 pairing(s): ceo!kim namjoon x doctor!poc (f)reader x lawyer!kim seokjin

💰 summary: "the cause of broken marriages is selfishness in one form or another" - vance havner

vows were never meant to be broken yet here they were. the problem is how can you quit the very person you know is your soulmate?

💰 rating: 18+

💰 warning(s): divorce, infidelity, depression, anxiety, gossip, drinking, swearing, pregnancy, gossip, oral (f receiving), unprotected sex, dirty talk, teasing, angry sex

💰 word count: 4.5k

💰 credits: a huge shoutout to @daimyosjeon and @sugakookitty for beta reading this fic. i hadn’t written anything in awhile so i appreciate the feedback you both gave cause i was so unsure of this fic 💜💜

banner resources found here: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6

💰 a/n: for the heartbroken society collab hosted by @shina913 @playmetheclassics & @jeonlius

The horns outside roused the two occupants awake. The man blinked, trying to remove the sleep from his eyes. His lover didn’t take long to rise from the bed and search for her clothing strewn around the room. He watched with interest as she dressed, only sitting back down on the edge of the bed to put her shoes back on.

“Leaving so soon?”

She sighed as she felt his hand touch her lower back. She almost recoiled from it.

“We go through this every time, Namjoon. You know I can’t stay.”

He frowned, rolling onto his back as he looked at the ceiling. “You can; you just never do.”

She stood, walking over to the mirror at the dresser. “I’m not going to get into this with you right now, and I need coffee before my meeting this morning.”

He rolled his eyes. “Always a pleasure Y/N.”

“Likewise.”

---

Y/N sat at the table, fiddling with a pen in her hand. Her eyes kept glancing at the clock.

Late as usual.

“Are you sure he knew when the settlement started?”

She huffed, turning to the man beside her. “Jin, I’m sure of it, and it was scheduled months ago.”

Jin sat back and adjusted his tie. “Being late will only make the judge hate him more.”

The door opened as the judge walked in. She nodded to the three people sitting and sat down. “I see he’s late again,” she murmured, opening her files.

The second man finally spoke up, his features slightly annoyed. “Your honor, I’ve called my client but haven’t been able to reach him–”

The door to the conference room burst open as Namjoon entered, looking disheveled. He planted himself in the seat next to his lawyer and gave the judge a small smile.

“My apologies, Judge Park. Traffic.”

Judge Park scowled. “Traffic didn’t stop everyone else from being here on time. Mr. Kim, I’d suggest you get your priorities straight. After all, this is your divorce settlement.”

The judge continued to drone on, summarizing what had been said in the last few sessions.

Y/N glared at Namjoon. After seven years of marriage, they called it quits. They didn’t try to hold on to their marriage. How she felt about him and made her think they weren’t aligned. The bills from their marriage counselor were proof enough.

After a particularly nasty scandal involving a secretary, Y/N called it quits. She was tired of the whispers and the looks she received working at the hospital, which added even more stress to her already fast-paced life.

And yet.

She looked across the table at her soon-to-be ex-husband. Why couldn’t she stay away? The guilt of that morning still lingered, and the thought made her face heat up if they had any idea what she and Namjoon did the night before.

Feeling eyes on her, she looked up from her papers to see Namjoon glancing at her. She looked over at her lawyer. Jin was preoccupied with the judge, reading over his notes and paying attention, as was Namjoon’s lawyer. She rolled her eyes as a smirk spread across his face. The sudden urge to wipe it off his face with her fist grew each moment. When he sent a wink her way, Y/N let out an audible groan making both lawyers stop talking.

They turned, looking at her curiously. Jin raised an eyebrow at her in concern as he reached for his glass. “Everything alright, Dr. Kim?”

Y/N flashed him a smile.

Judge Park pressed her hands together with a nod to each person.

“It seems these are the terms from both parties. If we’ve reached an agreement, these can be drawn up, and in our next meeting, we’ll only need signatures. How do we–”

“Your Honor?”

Y/N huffed out a breath as Namjoon spoke up. Adjusting his tie, he shot her a look with a grin. “I’d like to go over the logistics of the assets once more.”

Jin frowned. “I’m sorry, but what wasn’t clear before?”

Namjoon murmured as he leafed through the sheets. Once he reached the section, he chuckled, flipping it around and placing his finger near it.

“The vacation property. What do you plan to do with it?”

Was he for real?

Y/N crossed her arms over her chest. “You can’t be serious. Why do you care what I do with it?”

“Humor me, please.”

A frown crossed her face. “Sell it.”

His eyes widened in surprise. “Wha–B-But why?! We built it together, Y/N!”

A snarl erupted from between her lips. “It lost all value when you decided to bring multiple women into our bedroom, Namjoon.”

“I will have to step in and cease this conversation. This session is adjourned.”

As the judge stood, the group did as well until she left the room. Y/N sighed heavily as she rubbed the bridge of her nose. Namjoon observed the action. Yep. She was stressed, and it was her way of coping with it. He remembered when he first saw her do it as a university student, and they were studying in his dorm during finals week.

“Helps me calm down,” she once said.

He realized he’d been staring once her eyes fell on him. He looked away in haste. She rolled her eyes until she felt a hand on her arm. Y/N turned to see Jin standing next to her. He removed his hand once he realized they were still around other people. He dropped his voice enough for her to hear.

“Call me later?”

She nodded, giving him a small smile. Relief passed his features as he gathered his papers and put them into his suitcase. The group headed to the elevators waiting for it to stop at their floor.

“Where’s Haneul?”

Y/N scoffed at the question, keeping her eyes facing the elevator. “So now you care about your daughter?”

Namjoon sighed, feeling the sudden headache grow. “She’s just as much my daughter as she is yours.”

She rounded on him, and her temper began to flare. “I wish you wouldn’t try to test me. Keep it up, Joon. I’m trying to be fair, but if you keep antagonizing me, I will ensure you only get limited visits with her.”

“You wouldn’t do that, Y/N,” he accused quietly. Namjoon narrowed his eyes at his wife, and she was playing hardball now. He was a lousy husband but prided himself on being a great father.

Jin glanced between the two of them. “This isn’t the proper place for this discussion.”

“I’m aware, Seokjin,” she snapped before returning to Namjoon. “She’s staying with my parents; they flew in a few days ago. Happy?”

“Very. Thanks,” he mumbled. “I’ll pick her up on Friday and take her to school on Monday morning.”

She nodded, pressing the button that led to the parking garage. At least she could be civil when it came to their daughter.

“Fine with me. Just call before you arrive.”

Namjoon hummed in agreement, and the elevator ride fell into silence. As he leaned against the wall, deep in thought, he noticed something. Seokjin stood too close to his wife– he refused to call her his ex until the papers were signed. They were merely separated. But Y/N didn’t move away from Seokjin; she quickly smiled at him. Namjoon’s knuckles paled as he gripped his suitcase tighter. Clenching his jaw, he cleared his throat.

“Are you going back to work now?”

Y/N stepped away from Seokjin and turned to Namjoon. “No, I took a leave of absence.” Seeing his facial expression, she sighed. “It’s fine, and I have enough residents to help until I’m back.”

The last thing she wanted to do was have him pry about why she took time off work, and all it would do was lead to another argument. She was relieved when the elevator finally reached the parking level she was on. As the door opened, Seokjin held the button. She turned toward Namjoon with a curt nod.

“I’ll see you soon, Namjoon. I’ll let Haneul know you’ll pick her up.”

“Thank you. See you Friday.”

As she walked out, Seokjin followed, tipping his imaginary hat to him just as the doors shut. Namjoon frowned as he got off at the next level. Why did seeing her with Jin rustle his feathers so much? Not only would that be inappropriate, but it would also be an extreme conflict of interest. He was her lawyer, for crying out loud.

Would that stop you?

He shook off the thoughts, frowning as he walked to his car. Yes, things had gotten bad between them, but they always ended up in bed together for the most part. Regardless of their thoughts of each other, no matter how toxic it was, Namjoon and Y/N still had some physical attraction to each other.

---

“Oh shit!”

Y/N whipped her head back, biting down hard on her lip. One hand gripped the counter's edge, and the other tangled into dark hair from the scalp for dear life. She willed herself to open her eyes and look down at the head between her legs.

She bit back a scream as she rutted against his mouth. He massaged her inner thighs, placing soft kisses along her skin, making his way up to her pussy lips. His finger stroked her slit, gauging her reaction. His fingers dug into her thighs as his lips laid an assault on her swollen clit. Y/N’s hips bucked, making him chuckle as he pulled away.

At the sudden loss of contact, a frown formed on her face. Mischievous eyes met hers as his tongue licked a thick strip along her seam, causing her to jolt.

“Frustrated?”

Y/N eyed him with scrutiny.

Giving in would only make things rough. He knew what he was doing to her. A smirk spread on his face, watching her come undone.

“I don’t know why you’re being so stubborn. Just say my name, and I’ll let you come, darling.”

Making a point, he spread her lips, zeroing in on her clit. He flicked it gently, followed by a smack. With a muffled moan, Y/N’s hips bucked. Collecting her arousal on his tongue with kitten licks, he let out a hungry moan before covering her clit with his mouth, causing her to cry. He let go of her clit, letting his tongue travel down to her entrance. He hummed as he feasted, enjoying how close she was to unraveling. Gasping, she gripped his hair more, making a hiss slip past his pillowy lips as she anchored herself.

“Let go, Y/N. I know you want to, darling. It’s alright,” he coaxed silkily.

The tight coils in her belly released so suddenly that she almost scooted off the counter. He held down her thighs to keep her from falling as she cried out. The aftershocks were so intense she kept shivering as he stood from his spot. He picked her up in his arms, cradling her against his chest.

“Anything to say, Y/N?”

Finally catching her breath, she looked at him with a chuckle.

“Fuck you, Kim Seokjin.”

---

Y/N emerged wrapped in a towel, shower bonnet on her head as the steam billowed from the shower in the bathroom shower. The smells wafting throughout the apartment made her mouth water as she removed the bonnet shaking her faux locs from their confines. Slipping into a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, she padded back into the living room, going toward the kitchen. A man stood around, turned by the stove, stirring something in a pot. Smiling, she walked behind him, wrapping her arms around his torso.

“Something smells delicious.”

Jin laughed as he paused his stirring. Turning, he bent down to kiss her before focusing on the pot. “It’s almost done. Wanna taste?”

“Do you have to ask me?”

He grabbed a spoon from the drawer and scooped some of the sauce onto the spoon. He blew it gently before bringing it to her lips. Y/N tasted the sauce, humming at how delicious it was.

“Not bad, Mr. Kim.”

He laughed, putting the lid on the pot. “Not bad, my ass. It’s the best kimchi tofu soup ever.”

She scoffed, removing her hands from his torso, and grabbed bowls from the cabinets. “And feed your already bloated ego? You think so little of me.”

Jin smirked as he swatted her ass playfully and kissed her cheek. “I think of you just fine. You ready to eat?”

She nodded as she helped set the table. Jin brought out the side dishes, scooping the rice into two small bowls. They sat down moments later, and Jin opened a bottle of wine, pouring each a glass. Sitting there in silence felt calming. No yelling or arguments...just peace.

She spoke too soon.

Jin took a sip of his wine before digging into his soup. “How are you feeling?”

Y/N’s brow arched in curiosity. “In what way?”

His smile reached the corner of his mouth. “You’re being coy, but I meant the settlement and Namjoon.”

Her nose wrinkled in distaste. “Do we have to talk about that?”

“But as your lawyer–”

“Correction...yes, you are my lawyer, Jin; however, we are off the clock. I don’t want to talk about that right now, please.”

“Fine. But I do have one more question.”

Y/N gave a lackluster smile but urged him to continue.

“When am I going to meet Haneul?”

She blinked once. Then twice. Where was this all coming from? As she remained silent, Jin began to feel agitated.

“It’s not a difficult question, Y/N. I mean, we’ve been seeing each other for almost a year. Don’t you think it’s time?”

"No. No, I don't," she answered.

He stared at her in disbelief, frown lines forming on his face. "No?"

"No."

"Why?"

All she wanted was a quiet dinner with him. Was that so hard to ask? The last thing she wanted was to think about custody hearings and the divorce. It was hard enough taking a leave of absence was hard enough, and work helped her be distracted.

Y/N rubbed her nose bridge again to alleviate the pain between her eyes.

Why was he ruining this?

Standing, she met his gaze as her lips drooped into a frown.

“I think I should leave.”

Jin swore under his breath, rising from his seat. “Why are you being so dramatic? It’s just a question.”

Rolling her eyes upward, she stormed off, grabbing her belongings and shoving them into a bag. “I don’t have time for this, Jin.”

He followed her into the bedroom, watching her dress. “Then make time.”

Her posture straightened as she let out a hiss, eyes narrowing. “What did you say?”

He walked up to her crossing his arms over his expansive chest. “We knew what we were doing, starting something. You’re so caught up in what everyone will think; you can’t see that someone cares about you.”

His voice lowered, reaching out to grab her hand. “Y/N, please stay. It’s late, and I don’t want to upset you.”

She shook her head as Jin’s thumbs circled the top of her hands. The gesture calmed her nerves as she thought about what he had said. She didn't want to admit it, but he was right in some aspects. Sighing, she looked up at Jin and nodded.

“I get what you’re saying, but can we slow things down for a while? I want to be able to do things right this time.”

Jin leaned in and kissed her forehead gently. “Yes. I’m willing to wait as long as it takes for you.”

---

Namjoon stared out at the skyline, drink in hand. The condensation coated his fingers. Brows furrowed as his insecurities began to eat away at him. Why was he feeling like this? He hadn’t been able to shake the suspicious feeling since seeing Y/N in the elevator. Something was up, and he did like the unknown. Lost in his thoughts, he barely felt the hands encircling his waist. Lips pressing against his earlobe caused him to shudder. A smirk ghosted her face.

“Come back to bed.”

“Can’t sleep,” he muttered.

She frowned, reaching out to take the glass from his hands. “You’re drinking again.”

“Helps me get to sleep.”

“No, it doesn’t. Just makes the bad things go away temporarily.”

Namjoon let out a heavy sigh as he fought to roll his eyes. “You gonna lecture all night and ruin my buzz?”

She scoffed with a frown. “Not unless you come back to bed.”

“Soon.”

She sucked in her teeth, glaring at the back of his head. “Namjoon, you’re making this easy for me to decide.”

“Decide what?”

“To leave you completely.”

He turned to look at her with a stare of disbelief. “Tiffany, you can’t be serious.”

She crossed her hands over her chest. “Very. It was fun while it lasted, but you’re a mess.”

“I wasn’t messed up when you came here today,” he taunted. “It wasn’t messed up when you and I started this. Admit it, you didn’t care you were fucking a married man, and you sure didn’t care that it was the husband of your colleague.”

“You’re a bastard,” she hissed.

Smirking, he gripped her by the hair, tugging her toward him. “I know. Now kiss me.”

Her lips smashed against his as he laid claim once again. The glass slipped from his hands, falling to the floor in an earth-shattering crash, making her pull away momentarily.

“Leave it,” he murmured against her lips.

Picking her up by the waist, her legs wrapped around him instinctively. Namjoon pushed her against the glass, pushing her panties to the side; she moaned as she felt him enter without warning, gripping him by the hair as their grunts and pants filled the air.

There was no tenderness in the sex, just two people seeking their selfishness. And it worked for them. Namjoon’s head fell back, lost in lust as his thrust quickened.

“Fuck, Baby, you feel so good around my cock.”

She could only moan back in response.

“I love you so much, Y/N.”

Her eyes popped open as her hands dropped to his shoulders. “What the fuck did you say?”

The look on his face was of utter shock. “I–”

“Get the fuck off me,” she snapped.

Shoving him away after he placed her back on the ground, she avoided stepping on the glass as she gathered her things.

“Babe, let's talk about this.”

“There is nothing to discuss with you anymore. I’m done. You get your priorities together, Namjoon, or so help me.”

She placed her coat over her shoulders, slipped her heels on, and walked away without a word. All he could do was drop to the couch in disbelief.

What was he doing?

---

Y/N watched as Haneul ran around the playground with a smile spread across her face. It made her happy to see her daughter having so much fun. She sometimes regretted not giving her a sibling, especially since she came from a large family. But that time had passed in her mind. Would she want to go through it again? Would Jin even want to?

She shook the thoughts away as Haneul ran up to her, breathing hard.

“Eomma, did you see me in the jungle gym?”

“I did! You’ve gotten faster!”

“Appa helped last time,” she said with a smile.

Y/N strained a smile back as Haneul sat next to her. “Oh, he did.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I see.”

Haneul looked out at the scenery for a moment before speaking up again. “Is Appa going to come back to live with us?”

It was only a matter of time before Haneul questioned what was happening. She was far too observant of a child not to. Y/N dreaded the day it would come, but keeping her daughter in the dark wasn't fair.

“Next time Appa is with us, we’ll sit down and talk to you about it, okay?”

It seemed to satisfy her, and she got up again to play on the swings now that they were unoccupied.

“Mind if I sit here?”

She saw Namjoon standing beside her, holding three drinks in a carrier. She gestured for him to sit as she focused on Haneul.

“How are you doing, Y/N?”

“All things considered, I’m alright. Yourself?”

“More or less fine.”

“Good,” she answered.

He held out a cup to her with a small smile. “I got your favorite–a vanilla matcha latte, right?”

She took it from his hands with a tiny nod. “Yes. Thanks.”

After a minute of silence, Y/N spoke up. “We’ll have to explain things to Haneul at some point, and she’s asking many questions.”

He sipped his drink, taking in what she was asking. “When should we?”

“Sooner than later. I’m returning to work this week– maybe in a week or two. You can come over for dinner.”

He tried not to show too much emotion on his face. He hadn’t returned to their place in ages, and maybe this was the way back into their lives.

“Sounds good. I’ll call you to discuss details.”

Haneul noticed Namjoon as her eyes lit up. She jumped off the swings, much to Y/N’s protest, running up to her father and hugging him.

“Appa!”

“BunBun!”

She chatted animatedly with him as Y/N watched on. It almost felt like old times, and it was practically the calm before an even more significant storm— one they weren’t prepared for.

---

Y/N washed her hands as she turned to her patient with a warm smile. “I’ll send my nurse in to administer your shot. I’ll have your new prescription ready at the reception desk, and you can schedule a follow-up with me in six weeks.”

Walking out, she almost collided with one of the Nurse Practitioners.

“Oh, Dr. Kim!”

Y/N’s lips pressed thin as she stared at her unmoving. The woman felt uneasy under her gaze.

“You should be more aware of your surroundings, Tiffany,” she murmured with a slight edge.

Tiffany muttered an apology as she cast her eyes down at the ground. “Apologies, I haven't been in the right headspace today.”

Y/N shook her head, still lacking her normal empathy. “Maybe you should have taken the day off–”

Suddenly Tiffany hunched over, vomiting right in front of Y/N all over the floor. Nurses looked up from their computers and rushed over, fussing at Tiffany. A few bowed to Y/N as they ushered her away. Something felt off to Y/N. Her stomach twisted in knots. Giving the front desk her instructions, she rushed off in the direction they walked off with Tiffany. She found her in the physician's lounge in one of the beds. With a cold compress on her head, she brushed off the nurses standing around her. Once they noticed Y/N standing there, they hurried away, avoiding her gaze.

As Tiffany began to sit up, Y/N shook her head.

“No need to do that. Rest.”

She sat on the edge of the bed, staring hard at the lines in the hardwood.

“Dr. Kim–”

“How long?”

Tiffany’s brows furrowed in confusion. “What do you mean?”

The sound that left Y/N's mouth was equal parts exhaustion and exasperation. Rubbing the bridge of her nose, she met her gaze.

“You can stop playing innocent, Tiffany. Admit it. You’re pregnant.”

Silent tears fell as she covered her face away from Y/N. “How did you know?”

“Doesn’t matter. How far along are you?”

“I have an appointment tomorrow to find out.”

“Does he know?”

“No. I don’t know what to do.”

“You’ll figure it out,” she exited the room. “But you need to tell him. I mean it.”

As Y/N closed the door behind her, she felt the air deflating from her lungs. The lump in her throat grew as she nearly ran back to her office.

Once the door shut, she slid to the floor and sobbed quietly.

Things were always going to be different now.

---

If looks could kill.

Y/N and Jin sat across from Namjoon and Tiffany in the restaurant, and her ex looked as pissed as she felt. When Y/N suggested dinner, the last thing he expected was to see Jin sitting across from him.

So they were together. His temper rose by the minute, but he had to keep it in check. Otherwise, Y/N would have more arsenal to use against them in their case.

He sipped his whiskey, trying to seem interested in the small talk, but he couldn’t help but notice Y/N's body language with Jin. Nothing like his, and that didn’t sit well with him.

“I’m curious as to why you called this dinner, Y/N,” he said, interrupting the conversation.

Y/N set her fork down to glance at Namjoon. “Well, it only seemed fair to get everything out in the open. You and Tiffany are starting a family, and I have been seeing Seokjin for some time now.”

“Isn't this a bit extreme?”

“No. I don’t think so. Let’s look at the facts; Tiffany is...what, three months pregnant. If you look at the time frame–”

Jin put his hand over Y/N’s. “Honey, maybe this isn’t the place.”

She snatched her hand away. “No, I’m going to finish my thought,” her eyes flashed in anger and hurt at her soon-to-be ex-husband, “The timeframe shows that she got pregnant while we were still together before the separation. Legally, this breaks our clause, so you better sign the papers, Namjoon, or I will make your life hell. I mean it.”

Namjoon slammed his glass down, scowling at Y/N. “You think I wanted this to happen?!”

“Don’t play the victim here. You both are guilty and knew what the fuck you were doing. I’m tired of all this. Just let our marriage go, Namjoon. I’ve moved on, and you need to do the same.”

She was throwing it away like that. Tiffany tried to console him, but he moved away from her as he pouted. Jin cleared his throat, looking at him.

“I care about Y/N. Can you see what this is doing to her? It’s better this way.”

The last thing she wanted was to shed more tears for this man, but she stood so fast the chair fell back from her seat.

“I loved you unconditionally, Namjoon. Did any of it mean anything? I wanted this marriage to work and I poured my life into it. We wanted our family to grow, and you ruined it for selfish reasons. I’m done. Officially. Goodbye, Namjoon.”

She got up and ran out of the restaurant. Jin nodded to the remaining couple, grabbed his and Y/N’s things, and walked outside. From his position, he could see Jin wrapping Y/N in his arms. She leaned into his touch, letting him take care of her. He kissed the top of her head, making a smile appear on her face. He took her hand, kissed her knuckles, and led her away.

Tiffany turned to stare at Namjoon, questioning the last few minutes.

“What are you going to do about this?”

Namjoon called for the waiter to refill his glass. He watched the amber liquid pour into his drink and nodded once it was filled. Raising his glass to Tiffany, he brought the glass to his lips.

“Cheers.”

#heartbrokensocietycollab #bangtantheatrenet #kvanity #thekpopuniverse #clubzerooclock #houseofddaeng #btshoneyhive #bangtansorciere #bangtanarmynet #kwritersworldnet #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #bts #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #bts smut #bts drama #bts angst

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raplinesmoon · 1 year

Text

A Place For Us (KSJ x F!reader)

pairing: ex-boxer!Seokjin x lawyer!reader (from On The Ropes)

genre(s): angst! and fluff

au(s): established relationship, parents au

word count: 4.5k

warnings: Seokjin and OC are older (late 40s/early 50s), being a parent is hard, moody teenagers, revelations, mentions of infertility, words are exchanged, lots of crying, doubts and insecurities about relationships, flashbacks, making up (happy ending yay!), brief makeout session at the beginning

rating: pg-15 (the OTR universe is 18+)

summary: It’s always on the most momentous occasions that things fall apart - but with some luck, love is always enough to bring people back together.

a/n: Happy 1 year anniversary to OTR! I’ve had this drabble in my head for quite some time, and I shed so many tears writing it. It’s pretty angsty, but really special to me (and you get to meet the newest member of the Kim family!). The title of this is inspired by my absolute favorite book, A Place for Us by Fatima Farheen Mirza. Nothing I write will ever come close to it, but please go and read it right now (the drabble can wait). I hope you enjoy!!

glossary: olchaeng-i (tadpole)

Seokjin darts his eyes nervously between the two options - black tartan or blue paisley, and feels pain shoot up between his eyebrows. Rubbing his eyes, he lets out a heavy sigh, wondering if it was finally time to go see the eye doctor after you’d begged him for weeks.

He hears the door close softly behind him, and your telltale perfume waft into the room, the warmth of your arms wrapping around his back.

“I don’t know why you even bother, you always pick blue,” you whisper into his ear, and he turns at the sound of your voice.

It’s been twenty years, and Seokjin is still never prepared for the sight of you in a dress, never failing to knock the wind out of him every time. He pauses, trying to refrain from vocalizing the first silly, ludicrous thought that creeps into the back of his mind, and instead return to the pressing matter at hand.

“Maybe it’s time to go with something different, the black does match my hair,” he snickers, knowing that now his head was more littered with grey strands than anything.

“You are hopeless,” you huff, snatching up the blue paisley tie and beckoning him closer, wrapping it around his neck. He watches your face scrunch in concentration as you tie it, tongue poking out from between your lips, and his foot taps on instinct, resisting the urge to disrupt your focus and kiss you.

“There,” you step back, admiring your handiwork, but Seokjin pulls you back into him.

“How much time do we have?” he asks, his eyes glimmering and gaze hungry, drinking in every inch of your body.

“We have a little bit,” you whisper against his lips with a smirk, sliding your hand underneath his suit jacket and feeling the hard planes of his chest. “She was still starting her makeup when I left.”

Seokjin barely lets you finish before his lips descend on yours, palms digging into your ass, and it’s a matter of moments before he’s backed you up against the door, wedging a thigh in between your legs to keep you spread open for him.

“Seokjin… please… careful,” you try to warn him, but the words are lost in between moans when he moves to your neck, licking and sucking at your pulse point.

Before you know it, the long skirt of your dress is hiked up to your waist, Seokjin’s hand barely pulling aside the embarrassingly wet fabric of your lacey white thong when—

“MOOOOOOOM!!!”

The two of you freeze, breathing heavily. Seokjin’s eyes are still dark pools, and he shakes his head silently, begging you not to go.

“Mom, I need help zipping up my dress!” your daughter’s frantic voice echoes from outside the door, and you both move quickly, untangling yourself from each other. You straighten out Seokjin’s crooked tie, and he falls to his knees, smoothing out the wrinkles in your dress. The two of you collect yourselves, and then you’re off, pressing a kiss to Seokjin’s cheek as you open the door.

“We’ll finish this later.”

“Appa, how much longer?”

Jin-ae sighs heavily. It’d been nearly an hour in the car, and they still weren’t anywhere close to this wedding. She watches her parents whisper to each other in the front seat, whispering quietly to one another, and huffs, pulling out her phone to text Hae, her best friend.

“Five minutes, olchaeng-i,” Seokjin chuckles.

“Appaaaa!” Jin-ae flushes with embarrassment at the childhood nickname.

When I first met you, her appa’s voice echoes in her head, you were on the ultrasound monitor, no bigger than a tadpole.

It’d been cute when she was younger, but now she was fifteen, and growing up. She didn’t just want to be his little tadpole for the rest of her life.

Get me out of this car, she texts Hae.

Tell me about it, Hae texts back. Hae’s dad was her dad’s best friend, and this was the first time she’d seen Hae in two weeks after Uncle Yoongi had grounded her friend for sneaking out at night.

Jin-ae opens up the front-facing camera, nervously smoothing down her hair and patting her makeup.

“You look beautiful, Jin-ae,” your voice comes from in front, and she sees you eyeing her through the rearview mirror.

“Thanks Mom,” Jin-ae smiles sheepishly, instantly feeling guilty for badmouthing her parents to Hae. They’d been nothing but kind and supportive for most of her life, even if they were a little dorky and overprotective. They’d come to every ballet recital and every soccer practice, they rewarded every good grade with a trip out for ice cream.

Her appa had been the one who stayed home with her most days when her mom worked, making sure she always had a homemade snack after school and coaching her through her math homework. When you came home, you would always promise to read Jin-ae a chapter of the book the two of you were reading together, talking about the plot and the characters until her eyes felt heavy and she began to slip away into her little world of dreams.

Jin-ae had the best parents in the world. Nothing would ever make her believe otherwise.

The real reason she was on edge wasn’t because of them. It was because her crush, Mingyu, would be at this wedding too. She’d grown up occasionally seeing him around because their parents were friends, but recently she’d begun to notice how cute he actually was, always making people laugh. Not to mention he was the captain of the basketball team.

The car screeches to a halt as Seokjin pulls into the parking space, and Jin-ae throws open the door immediately, launching to her feet. Mingyu was waiting inside!

“Bye Appa! Bye Mom! Hae is waiting for me, I’ll see you!”

“Jin-ae!” you shout after her. “Make sure your phone ringer is turned on!”

Jin-ae doesn’t even bother to check, too excited at the prospect of finally dancing with Mingyu. She turns on her heels and hikes up her skirt, watching you and Seokjin smile at her.

“Love you both! Byeee!”

“They’re so excited to see each other,” Yoongi snickers at Jin-ae and Hae tucked away in the corner, giggling at everybody on the dance floor. “Hae’s been driving us crazy over the past couple of weeks, and then Do-woon on top of it.”

“Aren’t you glad we only had one, ___?” Seokjin chuckles, and you give him a half-hearted smile back. Suddenly his hand is reaching for yours, giving it a comforting squeeze.

It wasn’t like you didn’t try. You tried. And tried, and tried, and tried. But something got in the way every time, whether it was not being able to shift out of your tiny apartment into a house, or not being able to move into a bigger house because Jin-ae didn’t want to change schools. Until the doctor told you that no matter how hard you tried, some things just weren’t meant to be.

You supposed it was why you treaded so carefully with Jin-ae. She was all you had, what made you turn from two broken, battered souls into a family. Which is why it scared you and Seokjin that she was growing up so fast. It was only yesterday that the two of you had been holding her hand, bandaging her cuts on the playground.

And now she was older, bright-eyed and curious, and beautiful, and as much as it made you proud, you were also afraid. Afraid the world would hurt her, afraid that it’d dim her light. Both you and Seokjin never wanted your daughter to experience the darkness you both went through, which still lingered in the background of some of your sleepless nights that were few and far between.

“You guys should take a vacation,” Yoongi suggests. “We went to Jeju last year for a week and it was the best week of our lives. Jin-ae could come stay over.”

Seokjin wiggles his eyebrows at you, and you pinch him playfully. In the many years you’d been married, it had never occurred to either of you to take a vacation. Jin-ae had hurtled into your lives not long after the wedding, leaving you with low hopes for a honeymoon.

“Maybe we can take her,” Seokjin shrugs his shoulders. “I’m sure she’d like to get out and explore too.”

You smile at that. A family vacation. It would be nice, just the three of you, away from school, from work, from here.

When you look up again, Jin-ae is no longer by Hae’s side. She’s wandered off to the side, teetering on her heels behind a boy, the two of them walking out of the room.

You let out a heavy sigh, trying to resist the urge to go after her, reminding yourself she’s still just a kid, and you tap Seokjin on the shoulder.

“Dance with me?”

“I’d love to.”

Jin-ae’s heart pounds in her ears, anxiety sending prickles over her skin at the thought of finally being alone with Mingyu. Hae had urged her on when Mingyu came up saying he wanted to talk to her about something.

This was it, the moment she’d been waiting for all night. Love was in the air everywhere it seemed, and now Mingyu was finally going to confess his feelings to her.

“What did you want to talk about, Mingyu?” she asks him, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear shyly.

Jin-ae blushes when she realizes how little space is in her and Mingyu, and how close his face is. All he has to do is lean in…

“You tease!” Min-gyu says, and Jin-ae jumps back in surprise, not expecting his response. “When were you gonna tell me about your parents, huh?”

Jin-ae purses her lips in confusion. Her parents? What did they have to do with anything? She was pretty sure her mom didn’t even know Mingyu’s name, and her appa would be happier knowing he didn’t exist.

“W-what are you talking about, ‘Gyu?” she stammers. “Did they say something to you?”

Mingyu’s face falls. “You really don’t know?”

“Know what?” Jin-ae tries to stop her voice from cracking, and the tears from falling, but they do anyway.

“Jin-ae, your parents, they uh, well uh, your mom was engaged to this other guy, and she cheated on him… with your dad. That’s how they got together. Wendy told Karina last week and now everyone’s talking about it.”

The tears become heavier, clouding Jin-ae’s vision, and she tries to back away, only to be met with the wall. There was nowhere to go.

“N-no, you’re wrong,” Jin-ae croaks out. “Everybody is wrong. My parents love each other, t-they met in the park, they would never do something like that. NEVER!”

The last word is a plea, Jin-ae looking Mingyu in the eyes and hoping that he backtracked, that he admitted it was all some kind of sick joke. However, she’s met with only guilt.

Turning on her heels, she runs.

Seokjin is worried. He hasn’t seen Jin-ae ever since you told him she disappeared with some boy, and now he can’t stop fidgeting with his fingers, wondering if everything is okay with his little girl. What if he hurt her? What if he took advantage of her?

It’s this worry that presses him to nudge you, turning your attention away from dinner. You give him a nod of acknowledgment, and he knows you’ve been wondering the same thing. The two of you excuse yourself from the table, hand in hand as you slip out into the hallway.

Moments later, Seokjin’s worst suspicions are confirmed when he hears the telltale sound of familiar set of sobs. Only this time, they sound worse than the time Jin-ae was riding her scooter down the street and crashed into the curb. Or the time when Minji invited all the girls in the class to her sleepover except Jin-ae.

The two of you come to a stop outside the bathrooms, and you raise your hand, ready to knock, when the frantic figure of Hae stops in front of you, waving you away.

“Mr. and Mrs Kim, you shouldn’t be here right now,” she says, a waver to her voice.

“What happened Hae?” Seokjin can’t stop his voice from rising. “What did he do to her?”

“You guys should really go, I’ve got this, I promise,” she gulps.

You swoop past her, opening the door handle.

“Jin-ae? Baby, what’s wrong? What happened?”

You look up into the tearful eyes of your daughter, her makeup smudged and her hair jumbled, like she’s been pulling at it, strewn on the floor of the bathroom.

When Jin-ae notices you and Seokjin standing in the doorway, she sobs harder, curling up into a tiny ball, and you feel your heart break.

Seokjin moves first, crouching down to wrap his arms around her, but Jin-ae swats him away.

“GO AWAY!” she screams. “I don’t want to talk to you!”

“Olchaeng-i, is this about that boy Mingyu?” Seokjin says softly, stroking her hair and trying to set it back into place. “It’s okay, Appa’s here, we’re not leaving you.”

“But I want you to,” Jin-ae warbles, and you and Seokjin look at each other with concerned faces. “I want you to leave.”

“Jin-ae, please talk to us, tell us what’s wrong,” you give her space, but don’t leave.

“What’s wrong is that you both lied to me! What’s wrong is that you guys shouldn’t even be together because you cheated… you cheated on someone you were engaged to, Mom! And appa just let you instead of saying no! What’s wrong is that my whole life feels like a lie… we shouldn’t even be a real family!”

Seokjin feels his blood run cold, and he looks over to see you in the exact same position, frozen and unable to move. This was never how you wanted Jin-ae to find out. The two of you had spent your whole lives trying to atone for the truth, and now it had come back to haunt you, in the worst way possible.

“Olchaeng-i, we can talk about this, your mom and I can tell you, it’s not what it seems like,” Seokjin stutters over his words, hands fidgeting at his sides. He wants to hug Jin-ae so badly, but it feels like his arms have been encased in cement blocks.

“What is it then?” Jin-ae is relentless. “I have to listen to you explain why you’re not a fucking adulterer, and mom’s not some slut who opened her legs for you the first chance she got? You’re going to explain how you didn’t ruin everybody else’s life because you both were so goddamn selfish? Was I just some stupid way of trying to make up for it, huh? Did you get married and have me because you felt like it was the right thing to do after doing everything else wrong?”

Jin-ae rises to her feet, ignoring Seokjin’s arm reaching for her, and he looks over to still see you frozen on the floor, tears rolling down your face silently. You can’t even look anywhere but straight ahead.

“I don’t want to hear it, appa. I don’t even want to be around you anymore. You make me sick,” she spits out before leaving.

Seokjin is at your side before you can even say anything, crushing you against him as you both erupt into sobs, holding each other and wondering how everything had gone so wrong.

From then on, everything is silent. You and Seokjin barely utter more than ten words to each other as Seokjin pulls Yoongi aside and explains what happened. You see Yoongi nod in acknowledgment, telling his best friend that he’ll find Jin-ae, and make sure she stays out of trouble, while a tearful Hae looks on. It’s silent when both of you pile into the car, the air heavy without Jin-ae’s bubbly chatter to break through it. Seokjin keeps his eyes on the road, and you keep them outside, watching the lights drift by, fighting off the urge to make him stop and vomit on the side of the road. Instead the pit in your stomach only grows deeper when he pulls into the driveway, and everything is dark, with no Jin-ae on the steps waiting for you both.

The two of you step inside, and while normally you’d be relieved to be home, the tiny, two-bedroom house the two of you built your whole life inside now feels like little more than a shabby cardboard box. All the pictures on the wall, the furniture you’d picked out together, Jin-ae’s shoes by the door, feels hollow with the weight of her accusations in the back of your mind.

The scary thing was, part of what she said was right. You and Seokjin had cheated, and you lied, upheaving not only your lives but Jungkook’s in the process. And while every day you thanked the universe that he’d been able to move on and find love, to find forgiveness in his heart, forgiving yourselves had been less of an easy task.

You thought the love would have been enough to fight the feeling of guilt. And it was. Until now.

You plop on the couch, bending over to take off your heels, when suddenly, the words come back, and you crumple, unable to stop shaking. Seokjin is there in seconds, arms around your side, stroking your hair, and the two of you cry it out together, finally growing tired of the silence.

“Shhh, jagiya, it’ll be okay,” he whispers into your hair.

“What if she’s right, Seokjin?” the hopelessness creeps into your voice. “What if this wasn’t meant to last? What if we can’t keep running anymore?”

“___, this is real,” Seokjin takes your hand in his, running his thumb over the thin gold band you wear every day to symbolize your love. “I told you a long time ago that you were it for me and I meant it. I know we’ve made mistakes, jagi, but this, our family, has never been one of them. Jin-ae is just angry, and she’s hurt. She’ll come back to us.”

“I hate that we have to keep doing this,” you lean onto his shoulder. “I hate that we have to remind each other all the time. When will it stop?”

“Maybe never,” Seokjin admits. “But I’ll still be here every day.”

“I love you, Seokjin,” you whisper. “I’m so lucky I get to have you.”

He watches your eyes flutter shut, before whispering:

“I’m the lucky one.”

It’s midnight when Jin-ae sneaks back into the house, finding the spare key her parents kept in the plant pot outside. The house is dark, and it’s quiet.

Guilt causes the knot in her stomach to become tighter. Uncle Yoongi and Hae had taken her to their house, where she’d had a warm meal and time to cool off. She was so confused. So hurt that the perfect parents she’d known growing up were revealed to be far from it. She didn’t know how to process the news, or how to feel anymore.

So she’d sat on the Mins’ front porch in the cold, thoughts running every which way in her mind, until she’d heard the door click and footsteps behind her, coming face to face with Yoongi by her side.

“Still upset?” he asks her, and the gentle look in his eyes reminded her so much of her appa, and how he’d come by with cut-up fruit every time she was upset.

“Shouldn’t you also be, Uncle Yoongi? He’s your best friend.”

“I did my time, little tadpole,” Yoongi chuckles, using Seokjin’s nickname for her. “I told Seokjin it was a bad idea, I told him everything would fall apart. I was angry with him too.”

“How did you make it go away?” she asked him, swinging her legs side to side. “The anger.”

“Jin-ae, he’s made a lot of mistakes, but he’s not a bad man,” Yoongi says quietly. “Neither is your eomma. They love each other more than anyone I know. They were so happy when you came, I thought they’d never stop smiling. You’re their entire world.”

Jin-ae smiles softly at his words, a memory washing over her.

. . .

“Me and mom will be back to get you after school, little olchaeng-i, okay? Be good for us.”

Seokjin gives Jin-ae a kiss, eyes wet with tears. You’re no better off beside, eyes red-rimmed at the new dress she’d picked out, and the pretty bow sticking out of her neat hairstyle. It was the first day of school, and you and Seokjin were going absolutely insane at the thought of leaving your little baby, even if it was only for a few hours.

“Appa, let me go peez,” Jin-ae lisps, watching the other children run around the playground with their colorful backpacks. When she sees Seokjin’s teary eyes, her chubby hand reaches out for his, pressing a tiny butterfly kiss to his cheek.

“Don’t cry Appa, olchaeng-i wuvs you. And mommy too.”

The two of you try to stop from erupting into more sobs, holding her tightly. Before you know it, she’s waving goodbye, her tiny body disappearing inside the classroom.

The rest of the day passes by in an eerie trance. You fret over Jin-ae at work, wondering if she’s making friends, and whether or not she’s okay to use the bathroom on her own. Seokjin stares emptily in the fridge, looking at the heaps of fruit that Jin-ae loved to eat, and decides drown his sorrows by eating the whole carton of strawberries.

You come home early, and the two of you head back to the school, waiting with anticipation as the children spill out of the hallways, eyes looking out for your little girl.

When you see her, she screams, running excitedly into your arms. She doesn’t waste a second before launching into a whole explanation of how her day went, excitedly showing you the colorful “art” she’d scribbled.

“Sounds like you had a fun day, baby,” you crouch to her height, swooping her bangs out of her eyes.

“Was ok,” Jin-ae says, becoming quiet.

“What happened baby? Is there anything wrong? School was fun, right?” Seokjin asks her.

“Was ok, but I like home with you and mommy more. Can we go now?”

You let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. Jin-ae was growing up, faster than you thought she would, but at the end of the day, she was still happiest by your side. And that meant everything.

. . .

Jin-ae tears up at the memory, regret instantly settling into her heart.

“I’m such an idiot, Uncle Yoongi,” she looks at him. “I said such awful things, I, I can’t even take it back. They’ll never forgive me.”

“They’re your parents Jin-ae. Of course they will.”

The memory of school, and the talk with Yoongi linger in the back of her mind as she slips out of her shoes, tip-toeing silently and making a promise to apologize in the morning. When she stumbles past the living room, however, she stops.

Seokjin is there, his head shifting from side to side, trying to keep from dozing off, while you snooze on his shoulder. He’s humming softly in your ear, and his eyes are so full of love that it makes Jin-ae’s heart hurt.

A choked sob escapes her at the emotional scene, and Seokjin turns at the sound, eyes widening at the sight of his daughter in the hallway, but Jin-ae runs up the stairs before he can say anything.

The door to her room is open, and Seokjin knows by the light that her lamp is still on, and she’s awake. He knocks quietly before letting himself in. Jin-ae lies on the bed, her back to him, not even looking up when she feels the bed sink next to her.

Seokjin doesn’t know how to begin. He’s never been the talker between the two of you, preferring to let his actions speak instead. He feels as though he’s made his way to a wide chasm, able to see his daughter on the other end, but unable to reach out and take her hand.

Which is why it surprises him when she speaks first.

“Aren’t you tired, Appa? Of the guilt? Doesn’t it hurt?” the words are less an accusation, and more of a genuine vocalization of concern.

Jin-ae sits up, and looks at him, really looks at him, and her eyes widen in realization, like she’s seeing him for the first time. He’d tried so hard for her, to be the perfect appa, to be the perfect husband, but deep down, he was the same Seokjin from many years ago.

“I don’t want you to be hurt anymore, appa. I don’t want you or mom to feel like this because of me.”

Jin-ae throws her arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder, and he rubs gentle circles on her back.

“I’m only human, olchaeng-i. I try my best, and so does your mom. We try every day to forget the mistakes we’ve made. Do you know what helps us the most though?”

Jin-ae shakes her head, biting at her lips to keep more tears from spilling out.

“It’s you. It’s our family. This love that we have, it’s our second chance. Our shot at happiness. And neither me, or your mom take it for granted ever. We can tell you whatever you want to know, just please, don’t be afraid to talk to us. We need you.”

Jin-ae nods, resting her head on Seokjin’s shoulder.

“Can you tell me about her? Mom? Did you love her the very first time you saw her?”

Seokjin smiles at that, marveling at how it’s been twenty years, and he still launches into the story with the same enthusiasm. Jin-ae’s curious voice interrupts him to ask questions every now and then, until the questions are replaced with yawns, and she drifts off by his side.

Tucking her in, Seokjin shuts the door quietly, surprised to see your sleepy figure at the top of the stairs.

“You did good,” you tell him, pressing a soft kiss to his cheek.

“We did good,” he pulls you into him, and the two of you head to bed.

. . .

It’s only been a few hours of restless sleep when you and Seokjin are disturbed by the presence of a third person in your bed, Jin-ae crawling into the sheets between you, wrapping her arms around you.

“I’m sorry mom,” she whispers. “I love you.”

“I love you too baby. I love both of you.”

“Can I sleep here with you guys tonight?” Jin-Ae asks, her voice full of uncertainty.

“Okay,” you tell her, pulling her into you to lay across your chest, like she did when she was a baby. Seokjin puts his arms around both of you, pressing a kiss to your lips when Jin-ae has fallen asleep.

The little house is quiet again, but the good kind, a place for your family reserved within its four walls. The night is peaceful.

A/N pt. 2: I LOVE THEM YOUR HONOR!! I WILL KEEP LOVING THEM!! As always, any feedback or comments are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi 💜

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