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shuadotcom · 2 years

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Big Bad Wolf | KNJ (M)

🔴 Summary: Your mom has always warned you not to venture too deep into the forest, for legend has it, in it lives vicious, man eating wolves. You’ve always listened to her words until one day when your love of animals gets the better of you and you end up in the woods, chasing after a wounded cat. When you stumble across a secluded cottage in the middle of the forest and meet one of these “Big Bad Wolves,” you learn that maybe not everything is as it seems.

🔴 Pairing: Wolf Shapeshifter!Namjoon x Human Female!Reader

🔴 Genre/AU: Angst, fluff, smut, fantasy, strangers to lovers

🔴 Rating: 18+ | R (MINORS & AGELESS BLOGS DNI. YOU WILL BE BLOCKED)

🔴 Warnings: profanity, non-descriptive talk of murder, mention of guns/a gunshot wound, unprotected sex, oral sex (female receiving), fingering, knotting, marking

🔴 Words: 19.7k 🥴

🔴 Note: It's finally here - my fic for @hobeemin's Bangtan Grimm Event!! The fairytale my fic is inspired by is Little Red Riding Hood. Full disclosure here, this is my first half human/half animal fic so to anyone that reads this that is much more seasoned with hybrid-esque fics, it’s not the same as others you probably have read lol.

Thank you soooo much to @lavienjin for this amazing banner!! ❤️❤️ ENORMOUS thank you to @playmetheclassics for literally being my hero and beta reading this chonker of a fic in a few hours after I finished it 🥰🥰

This fic has been a journey to say the least. Writer's block has had me in an absolute chokehold these past few months, but I'm so glad I was able to finally finish this! Please enjoy my longest fic to date 😂💖

“And what happens if you meet the wolves?”

“Your mom and dad haven’t told you? They’ll bring you back to their den, deep, deep in the forest, and eat you up!”

May, your neighbor’s daughter, stares at you, wide, brown eyes get impossibly bigger as her lips form a pout. She’s on the verge of crying when your mom and her girlfriend Angela come into the dining room where you’re sitting with the child.

“Y/n, stop scaring May!” Your mom scolds, moving into the kitchen.

“I’m not,” you shrug.

“She asked about the wolves, and I told her.”

“She said that if you go too far in the forest, they’ll snatch you up and tear out your throat!” Your mom gives you a pointed look at the child’s hysterical words.

“What? You told me those same stories when I was her age.”

“And Y/n isn’t exactly wrong,” Angela shrugs, taking a seat next to you at the kitchen table.

“Well, let’s keep those stories to her parents to tell and not traumatize her here, please,” you and Angela roll your eyes when she turns to May to calm her down.

It's true, though; your mom told you the story of the man-eating wolves that live in the forest when you were old enough to properly comprehend cause and effect. You grew up with the idea that if you ventured too far into the forest, especially at night, then you were more or less asking for death.

On top of that, Angela was also a member of the wolf force, and she and your mom have been dating since you were in high school, so you heard plenty of stories about wolves and what they did.

From what you learned growing up, the town you’ve lived in all your life was almost invaded years ago by these wolves, and many people were murdered. The town nearly became devoid of any humans until a few brave citizens formed a separate branch of the existing police force specifically to fight off these monsters. Many of the wolves were killed to protect the town, while the rest fled into the forest where it’s rumored they’ve lived all these years.

Some people have been dumb enough to go into the forest at night out of curiosity or because of dares, and they either come back into town with tales of sharp teeth and half-human half-monster creatures, or they go missing and are presumed dead. It’s something you’ve mostly believed for years, but something about it has always sat oddly with you, but you’re not about to be the one who tests this theory, to be sure.

Once May is calm and goes back to her coloring, your mom takes a few steps into the kitchen to begin making lunch before she goes to the hospital for work. Your phone on the table lights up, diverting your attention to it, and you see a text from your best friend on the lock screen.

Jin: Can I come over?

You don’t even get to reply before you hear your front door opening and Seokjin’s loud voice ring through the house.

“Good afternoon ladies!” Your best friend since birth comes waltzing into the kitchen with nearly too much energy.

“I don’t know why you bother to text me when you’re just gonna bust in here as if you live here.” You say to Seokjin as he hugs your mom and Angela and moves to pick May up.

“It’s called being polite, Red. Not that you’d know about that of course.” He sticks his nose up at you and goes back to giving attention to May, asking what she’s coloring.

Seokjin has been dead set on calling you Red since you first started dying your hair in high school, and even now, when you’re both so close to thirty, he keeps doing it. You don’t mind so much anymore, but when he’s being smart with you, he always says it in the sassiest way.

As if sensing the snarky comment about to come out of your mouth, your mom interjects, asking Seokjin if he wants lunch.

“Oh, no thank you. I just came by to say hi. I’m on my way downtown to see my dad. He and grandpa are finally letting me do a night patrol with them today!” Angela high-fives him at the good news, but you can’t help but taunt him.

“Wow, it only took you like ten years.” You murmur to annoy him. It works, of course.

“Hey! It takes time to get trained for night patrol, thank you very much!”

“Yeah, yeah. What is there to train for? Aren’t you just walking around town making sure no wolves get in?”

“You have to be trained in combat and weaponry, silly girl. You can’t just go limbs and guns flying at a wolf with no proper knowledge. They’ll eat you alive.” He argues, looking to Angela for confirmation, who nods.

“How do you know?” you challenge. “You’ve never even seen a wolf.”

“My father has! And he told me all about it. The cold, stale feeling that overcomes your body. The way your blood feels like it’s frozen in your veins. Your body shakes as you stare into those evil, glowing red eyes while it bares those sharp teeth at you, canines glistening with blood under the moonlight.

Your heart stops, and your life flashes before your eyes. After that, you only have but a second before the creature comes charging at you, and you draw your weapon. The silver bullet has to pierce its head or its heart to assure that you take the monster down. It’ll tear you limb from limb otherwise and make sure you’re alive for every agonizing second until it’s ready to pull your head from your shoulders and eat your still-warm flesh. You need to train.”

There’s a pregnant pause, and the whole kitchen is still as you digest Seokjin’s words.

Poor May, still in his arms, starts bawling, and your mom rushes to comfort her, scolding Seokjin in the process.

“Damnit, Seokjin, I just calmed her down!”

“Sorry,” he says sheepishly, handing her to your mom before saying his goodbyes and heading out.

“Oh, Y/n,” Your mom mentions as May finally settles down. “I need you to go see your grandmother before it gets dark. She's been hounding me to bake my banana bread for her, and I finally remembered. Angela and I are both working nightshifts tonight, so we don’t have time.”

You groan in response. “But I was going to meet up with Victoria and Chaerin today!”

“And now you’re taking bread to your grandmother. Victoria and Chaerin will be around tomorrow. Now I’ve got to finish making a quick lunch, and you get ready to go before sunset.”

You wait until she turns around to let out a quiet sigh. Grabbing your bag in the foyer and the bread from the kitchen, you head outside, calling goodbye to everyone over your shoulder.

With no car, you wheel your bike from the garage and take off down the sidewalk on it, heading towards the forest line and the path out of town. You need to do more saving up to move out on your own. Babysitting the neighborhood kids makes a small dent in your savings account along with what you make at Seokjin’s mom’s bakery, but it wasn’t enough to leave again.

After high school, you had gotten out of town. You went to college away from your suburban neighborhood, having been antsy to start over somewhere else and start on the journey to becoming a veterinarian. You were in school on a scholarship, but after your freshman year, when your grades began to drop due to getting much more overwhelmed by college than you thought you would, your scholarship was gone. You were moving off campus and into an apartment in the city with some roommates you found online.

You only stayed with them for a year before moving out as fast as you could. Between their messiness, inconsiderateness, and overall unpleasantness, you packed up and left as soon as the lease was up. The part-time job you worked at the coffee shop didn’t leave you with enough to get another place, and with no other vacancies nearby, you reluctantly moved back home.

Your mom was more than happy to have you back home and all of your friends who were still there, Seokjin included, welcomed you back, and things picked back up like normal, but you were different. You still want out, and you’re going to work as hard as you can to make that happen.

Having forgotten your headphones at home, it’s just you and your thoughts as you ride through the forest. It’s still mid-afternoon, so you’re not worried as you ride. Your grandma lives about thirty minutes away by bike, longer if you take your time, but you were moving fast. You don’t have any more babysitting jobs for the rest of the day, and the bakery is closed today, so you’re eager to get back home and continue your day.

Eventually, you cross the bridge-covered river that separates your town from the next one over that your grandma lives in. You don’t remember why she moved, only that she lived with you and your mom after she retired from her nursing job at the town hospital.

One day in high school she announced she’d be moving a town over. You recall your mom not being thrilled, there was a big argument, and she stopped talking to her for a while before they made up as best as they could, but their relationship didn’t feel the same. You’ve tried to get either of them to tell you what happened repeatedly, but they deny you every time.

You arrive at your grandma's in record time, parking your bike and having enough time to have bread and tea with her while she goes on with a story about her neighbor she has a crush on.

“Speaking of crushes, how is Seokjin?” She asks once her story is over and the question has you choking on your tea.

“What does he have to do with crushes?!”

“Oh come on, Y/n. The two of you have been inseparable since you were children. Plus, you’re getting older now. Have you ever thought of seriously moving along with him?” Your grandma shrugs but eyes you carefully.

“Grandma, I’ve told you, and mom, and his parents and, everyone else in this town that Seokjin and I are just friends. We’ve never had any remotely romantic feelings for one another, okay?” You assure her for what feels like the thousandth time.

This is only partially true. There was a brief time where you once thought you liked Seokjin but couldn’t imagine being romantic with him. You kissed once when you were playing house as kids, and it was awkward. You kissed again at a party in middle-school and it was still weird. He told you in high school that he’s always liked you, but you had to turn him down. He’s handsome and a great guy, but you're just not attracted to him. He’s like a brother to you.

“Besides, Seokjin just joined the wolf force officially so he definitely wants to stay here. You know I want out.”

She hums, sipping her tea. “I know you do, honey. And you know you’re always welcome here.”

“I know, but I want to go back to the city. No one else is interested in leaving town, let alone going that far out, so I’m just focusing on that for myself. I’m not even thinking about dating anyway.”

“That’s fair. I won’t ask you about Seokjin like that anymore, promise.”

You thank her and finish the rest of your tea before bidding her goodbye. The sky is now orangey-pink which means you’ve got to hit the trail.

With a hug and another reminder that her doors are always open, you’re off, able to ride much faster without the task of protecting a baked good. You’re thankful for this as the feeling of eyes on you stays on you the whole ride home until you break through the clearing and are back in town with the houses and voices of people you know around you.

As the rest of the week crawls by, you live your mundane life, as usual, working, saving up, hanging out with Seokjin and the rest of your friends, and doing nothing extraordinary.

When your grandma is in bed with a nasty cold, you ride to her house with soup and medicine and stay until the sun begins to set and darkness starts to fall. Your grandma is plenty independent for her age, but even the worst cold has her bedridden for a few days.

Once she’s eaten and taken her medicine, you bravely say goodbye, and don’t let her see the way your eyes widen to scan the darkness outside as you sprint to your bike and move your legs as fast as they’ll go. You ride in silence, staying vigilant of your surroundings the whole ride. The sun has finally set when you can see the lights from the houses in town approaching as you push your legs harder.

You’re so close to leaving the forest when out of the corner of your eye, you see a flash of something fast and big. Your bike screeches to a stop as you listen carefully, and you hear nothing for a beat before your ears pick up the sound of snapping twigs and leaves. Turning to the other side of the trail, you stare into the darkness, not seeing much of anything until you see a pair of glowing yellow eyes staring at you. Neither you nor the eyes move or blink.

A wolf. A wolf is staring at you in the darkness of the forest at night. You know what it is, and yet, you’re frozen. Time seems to move slowly, and before you know it, the eyes disappear as you listen to the wolf retreat, leaves crunching under its feet.

Once you’re home, you barely register the way your mom yells at you for being in the forest when it’s dark. All you think about is those yellow eyes boring into yours, seemingly into your soul. You don’t say anything in response, choosing to apologize to your mom until she decides it’s good enough and stomps to her room.

Of course, you didn’t mention what you saw - she’d lock you in your room, being a full-grown adult be damned. Looking at your phone, your finger hovers over the call button on Seokjin’s contact, but you decide not to. You do the same with Chaerin and Victoria before putting your phone on your nightstand, calling no one. Seokjin would immediately call a search party into the forest to hunt the thing down, while your other two closest friends would either freak out and push you to tell someone or tell the wolf force on your behalf.

You came face to face with a wolf, so why did it run away and not eat you? If the stories you’ve heard were correct, it should’ve snatched you right up and dragged you to its lair. You can’t make sense of it no matter how many times you wrack your brain, but something tells you not to tell anyone. The wolf didn’t harm you given the chance, so you won’t harm it, you decide.

The next day, after receiving another scolding for staying out after dark by your mom and Angela, you go to work at Mrs. Kim’s bakery. She gave you the job when you first came back home from the city and even if it didn’t pay that well, you were grateful to have something. There are worse things than working around delicious baked goods all day, after all.

With last night’s incident still fresh in your mind, you breeze through the day, and before you know it, you’re clocking out in the early afternoon and heading home. You have to babysit a boy down the street tonight while his parents are out, so you want to get home and take a power nap beforehand.

“See you tomorrow!” You call to Mrs. Kim as you go out the back of the bakery to throw the trash out on your way.

Before you throw the garbage into the can, a rustling of bags startles you. Hesitantly you approach the overturned trash can to find a sleek black cat rooting through it.

“Well, hi there,” you coo at the cat who jumps and hisses at you. You apologize for startling it and offer a piece of the bread Mrs. Kim sent you home with. Hesitantly, the cat’s tiny pink nose twitches enough that it makes its way over to you, limping as it comes.

Holding the bread away from you, you observe the way it tries not to put a lot of weight on its right front paw. Once it gets in front of you, its tiny teeth nibble at the bread in your hand, and you let it take the piece from you and set it down to continue to eat.

“Poor baby,” you murmur while the cat hunches down. and you get a better look at its injured paw, looking as though it got some crusted blood on it.

When the bread piece is gone, the cat looks at you and the loaf in your hand almost expectantly. It’s hungry but still weary, so you waddle backwards, a little further away, and tear off another piece, tossing it to the cat. It limps over to eat that piece, and you repeat this process with it, all the way to the short distance of your front porch, which is only walking distance away.

While the cat finishes the final piece of bread you’ve offered it, you rush inside for a small bowl of water and set it down near you. After the bread piece is gone, the cat goes straight for the water, lapping enthusiastically while still nursing the injury.

As gently as you can, your hand creeps closer to the cat, finger grazing the injury. In response, the cat leaps backward, staring at you with wide eyes.

“I’m sorry!” You apologize and watch the cat dart away. “Wait, come back!” You sprint after it, both confused and impressed at how fast it’s moving with an injury.

You keep moving though, faltering slightly at the fact that you’re leaving your neighborhood and entering the forest behind this black ball of fur, but it’s still daytime, so you continue. The cat lets out some heartbreaking wail, no doubt in pain from running, but it doesn’t stop. You keep up as best you can because you know that it’ll stop eventually.

Unsure of how long you’ve been pursuing the cat, you realize eventually that quickly approaching in front of you is no longer thick trees but a small cottage instead.

The small house is two stories and looks like one of the wood and stone cottages you’d find in an old fairytale. One of the windows on the second floor is open, and the chimney has smoke billowing out of it, so you know someone must be home. There’s a small garden in front of it with tomatoes, greens, herbs, and a few other plants you can’t identify growing in it. The idea of someone living so far in the forest with the wolves leaves you baffled.

Even so, you know someone has to live here as you finally catch up with the cat as it meows and headbutts the front door. Cautiously you come up behind the cat as it watches you knock on the door, but it doesn’t run away.

You only have to wait a few seconds before the wooden door swings open and the most beautiful man you’ve ever seen in your life is on the other side. He’s so tall and so broad with swept-back blonde hair. His tan skin almost glistens under the sunlight that peeks through the trees above, and when it hits his deep, chocolate eyes, you feel your breath catch in your throat.

He’s scowling at you, but his hard expression melts when his eyes flicker down towards the cat at his feet, headbutting his ankle. He smiles, pink lips turning up and dimples popping into his cheeks.

“Oh, Sugar, where have you been?” He coos, his deep, gravelly timber leaving you nearly trembling in front of this stranger. After scooping the cat up into his strong arms, the smile fades as he looks at you again and this change in expression has you remembering how to form words.

“H-hi. Is that your cat?”

“Yes.” He says, sounding hesitant.

“Well, um, I found it behind the bakery in the trash. I gave it some water and bread, and then I saw its paw is injured, but it ran here while I tried to help it.”

The gorgeous man eyes the cat, then you again. “So you ran after a cat that was fleeing from you and followed it into the woods?”

“I know it sounds dumb, but I’m a vet, well, I’m going to be a vet and I can’t just let an injured animal not get help.” You say sheepishly, realizing how foolish this all was after he recounted it.

The man hums in response and looks down at the cat in his arms as it blinks back at him. Without another word, he turns on his heel and goes back into his cottage, leaving the door open behind him.

Awkwardly, you stand there, weighing your options. Is it foolish to follow a strange man into his home who lives in the middle of the woods while no one knows where you are? Yes.

But he has an injured cat, and he looked at said cat with so much love that he can’t possibly be all that bad.

Against your better judgment, you gingerly step inside the cottage, leaving the door open behind you in case you need to make a quick getaway.

You aren’t sure what you expected, but the house seems completely normal upon walking through the foyer. The staircase in front of you looks normal. The room to your left looks to have a couch in it and a huge bookcase against the wall packed shelf to shelf with books. Glancing to your right, you see what looks to be a tiny dining room, and through that, the entrance to what you see is a kitchen.

The house is surprisingly cozy for being so small, and it feels warm and smells nice. So many questions are flying around your head, but the mystery man appears at the top of the staircase suddenly and startles you.

“Would you mind looking at his paw?” He seems genuine as he looks down at you, and even with a part of your brain screaming at how stupid you are, you go upstairs and follow the man into a bedroom.

“If you’re studying to be a vet you probably know way more about his injury than me.” There’s a bed in the middle of the room with the cat - Sugar - lying towards the edge, licking his good paw. The room is normal, with a dresser and some clothes thrown about, accompanied by many potted plants of all sizes littered throughout the room.

The man sits next to Sugar and scratches his back while you cautiously approach. The cat’s green eyes watch as you cross the room and sit next to him. He watches as you reach out and pick his paw up, letting you inspect it

“This isn’t serious.” You say with relief. “Looks like it’s a pretty shallow cut. It bled a lot, but it’s not deep. From the looks of it, it happened maybe yesterday, and the blood just dried up. A simple clean-up should be all he needs if he’ll let you.”

The man looks more at ease with your words and nods. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” An awkward silence hangs over the room, and you don’t know how to fill it. You have so many questions for the man out here all alone, but you don’t know how to ask without sounding intrusive. “I’m Y/n, by the way,” you finally blurt. “But everyone calls me Red.” You gesture towards your dyed hair.

The man visibly hesitates for a second. “I’m Namjoon,” he finally says.

Biting your lip, you try your best to formulate your next words. “Your house is beautiful. It seems so peaceful, but may I ask why you live out in the forest?”

Namjoon seems to flinch at the question, nostrils flaring before exhaling. “I like to be alone. I like the quiet. It’s safe.”

You have more questions on the tip of your tongue, but the atmosphere feels too tense for you to ask. You simply nod as in understanding before announcing that you need to get home before your mom comes looking for you. Namjoon walks you downstairs after you offer a sleeping Sugar a goodbye head scratch. You go to say goodbye but falter in the doorway.

“I, uh, I don’t know how to get back…” You trail off, eying the thick forest ahead.

“Oh. I’ll walk you.” He offers, leading you through the forest in what has to be the most awkward walk of your entire life. You ask him a few questions about his garden, to try and strike up a conversation, and you see his brown eyes light up. Namjoon goes on to tell you about his little garden, and how he loves being able to eat a lot of the things he grows, and how relaxing gardening is. He then mentions the plants you remember seeing in his room and how he has more around the house. He loves how comfortable and lively they make his quiet space and how they keep him company.

Namjoon seems to realize he’s gone off on a tangent and stops talking abruptly after mentioning that he wants to try and grow an apple tree.

“I admire people who love plants and gardening,” you say truthfully, so he doesn’t feel so awkward.

“Really?”

“Yeah. I’m great with animals and caring for them, but plants? Total plant killer. It’s probably because my mom is the same way. She’s tried, but everything potted has died in our house, and she passed the gene down to me.” You chuckle.

A small smile graces his lips in response. “It’s not that hard, I promise…” he trails off after that as if he is going to say something else but thinks better of it. He stops then, and you notice that the treeline is a few feet away, and you can see the lights from your neighborhood ahead.

“Thanks for walking me.” You smile at him, and he just barely returns it.

“You’re welcome.” He mumbles out before he turns and heads back toward his home.

After watching him go, you leave to prepare to go through the motions of making dinner for you, your mom, and Angela before they get home from work, but the only thing on your mind is Namjoon.

Namjoon is still occupying space in your mind, which is why two days later you find yourself venturing back into the forest on your day off. You were perfectly safe the last time, plus you feel much more fearless with the sun high in the sky. You don’t exactly remember where his cottage was, but you hope for the best, and what feels like an hour later, you finally see the roof of the small house.

You’re out of breath and feel warm from walking so much, but you’re happy to have made it. You spy Namjoon outside, crouching in front of his garden with his back to you. Sugar is on the small porch, lying on his back, but jumps up when he sees you. The black cat lets out a meow and beelines towards you, making Namjoon turn to see what it is.

“Hi, sweet boy,” you greet the cat, bending to pick him up and inspect the small gauze Namjoon has wrapped about the cat’s paw. Sugar reclines in your arms, purring as you walk over to his owner.

“You’re back,” is all Namjoon says when you approach.

“I am.” You don’t know what to say about why you’re here, but Namjoon doesn’t ask. “Need help?” You ask, nodding towards the garden.

“Know how to weed?”

“Nope.” You smile wide at him, and the man actually laughs, the sound making you flush for some reason.

“I’ll show you. I have an extra pair of gloves. Hang on.”

Namjoon walks into the house and returns quickly with a second pair of gardening gloves. You put Sugar down and take them. They feel comically big on you, but you don’t mind.

You crouch next to Namjoon as he explains what weeding is and why it’s important. You let him show you what to pull and feel giddy inside when he praises you for your successful pull on your first try.

The minutes tick on like this, helping Namjoon weed and water his garden before you pick the ripe vegetables and carry them inside with him. He offers you lunch, which you gladly accept.

The initial tension that seemed to consume Namjoon when you first met him two days ago has since melted in a more comfortable but still guarded aura. You’ve spent most of your time with him doing the talking, telling him about your family, your babysitting, and your job at the bakery. You explain how you’ve wanted to be a vet since you were a child; your love for animals and desire to help them always being present. Sadly, you also recount some good times you had in college and what happened as you had to leave and come back, now feeling trapped back in this town again.

Namjoon genuinely listens the entire time, nodding and offering commentary here and there at the right times. He seems comfortable just listening to you, but you want to know more about him.

When he sits down with you, you voice this, lunch of potato stew and rice between you both. “Well, what do you want to know?” He asks hesitantly.

“I don’t know. Why do you live so far out here alone? How long have you lived here, and why have I never seen you in town? Whatever you want to share. I know I overshare, which is why you got the first half of my autobiography after only meeting me once, but don’t feel obligated to share that much.”

Namjoon chuckles. “No, it’s okay. I don’t mind getting to know you more, plus I don’t have much company really, so it’s nice to have someone so animated here.” He slurps a spoonful of soup after blowing on it. “I’ve lived here all my life - my whole family has until-” He stops himself and shoves more food into his mouth.

“So I’ve just stayed here. The solitude is nice. I only have to worry about Sugar and me. If I need anything like groceries or clothes, I go to the town over the bridge for it.” He shrugs, decidedly ending his short speech about himself.

As much as you want to pry, you don’t and instead make him tell you more about his books that you can see across the house in the living room. This gets Namjoon talking as he tells you how he’s read every book at least twenty times. It’s clear how much he loves reading, the fact that he doesn’t have a tv aside. He explains that he usually spends his evenings in bed with Sugar, a book or his journal, and the radio which is all he needs.

You admire how simple of a life Namjoon lives. This beautiful man lives independently with only his cat and a few essential things in the modern world, no school to worry about, no stress of people expecting something from him, and no real pressure of adulting.

After lunch, you offer to help him with any other house chores he has, and it takes a bit of begging to have him give in, and he begrudgingly accepts your help. Most of your time together is spent with you oversharing some more about your friends, and Namjoon tells you the story of how he found Sugar in the woods a couple of years ago and decided to give him a home.

You’re not sure how many hours have gone by, but once you’ve finally sat down for a glass of water, you notice the color of the sky and how the sun will be setting soon.

“I should go,” you say, ending a story about the senior prank you and Seokjin pulled in high school.

You may be seeing things, but you swear disappointment flickers across Namjoon’s face. “Okay. Do you need me to walk you back?”

“Nope, I know the way.” He walks you to the door, Sugar trailing behind. Biting your lip, you hype yourself up to ask your next question. “Is it okay if I come to hang out with you again in a couple of days? I have work tomorrow and the next, but I’ll be free on Saturday.”

“Sure,” he says hastily, clearing his throat afterward. “I mean, okay if you want. We’ll be here.”

“Okay. See you then.” You want to spend the rest of the evening standing here, taking in his beautiful features, but you know you’ve got to get home before dark. You have half a mind to ask Namjoon how he keeps safe out here in the middle of the forest with the wolves about, but he seems to be doing well considering he’s been here for years. You’ll ask him next time.

Venturing into the forest on your days off quickly becomes a habit. Some of your off days coincide with your mom’s days off from the hospital, so sometimes you end up spending time with her or Seokjin when he inserts himself into your home as usual.

On days you can get away from them and make excuses with your other friends, you find yourself in the forest with Namjoon, slowly learning more about plants and nature in general. He’s the first person you’ve ever met who loves all things green and natural. It gives you a new appreciation for the world around you.

Namjoon himself is so fascinating. He started as what seemed to you at the time, a timid man. This is still true, but as weeks with him turn into two months, you start to see more about him come out. He’s funny and can keep you laughing for hours. He’s so bright - the smartest person you’ve ever met, and that amazes you. He hates cooking but learned it for survival from his mother when she was with him.

You learn so much more about Namjoon, like his likes and dislikes (he’s never had mint chocolate chip ice cream but swears he’d hate it), while also still not knowing so much about him. The other layer to Namjoon seems to be a sad, secretive one. Whenever he brings up his family, he’s quick to change the subject, and you can see the way his expression shifts into a more melancholy one.

Even so, you can’t ignore the very real stirrings in your heart every time you see him smile or hear him laugh. You don’t deny the way your skin seems to tingle every time your hands brush when you take something from him, or your arm grazes his when you’re in the garden next to him. When it would happen at first, Namjoon would flinch away and make up an excuse, but as of late, he seems to keep his arm resting against yours or let his fingers linger over yours for a little while longer.

One evening when you’re going to leave, he asks if you want to stay and watch the stars with him.

“I promise, it’s a beautiful sight to see. Far away enough from town that you can even see constellations.”

You glance up at the quickly setting sun. It’s getting dark. As much as you’d love to, you can’t.

“I want to, but… I can’t. It’s getting dark, and I have to be home. The wolves, you know?”

An unreadable expression washes over Namjoon’s face. “The wolves.” He says flatly.

“Yeah, I mean I know you live out here and you’re safe, which I’ve never asked you about, but I’m sure you know the stories about them and what they do.”

“I do.”

“Right, so I’ve gotta head home.”

“Of course. Be safe.” Namjoon’s back in his cottage, door shut and locked without a goodbye

His tone was back to what it seemed to be when you first met him, but you don’t question him. As much as you enjoy spending time with Namjoon, he does get moody quite often, so you don’t think anything of it. At first.

The next few days you visit him, he doesn’t turn you away, but he seems to have reverted to being slightly standoffish towards you like he was when you first met him. It bothers you, and you want so bad to ask, but you don’t want to drive him away anymore. He’ll come around soon and talk to you.

Well, at least you thought. A few days later, you find something that seems to answer all of your questions about Namjoon and the way he is.

While he’s making lunch for you both, you wander into the living room, your hands sweeping over his bookcase as you eye the titles. Some of them you recognize and some of them you don’t. You’re not paying too much attention and end up dragging your nails over a book spine that is already torn, tearing it a little more.

“Fuck,” you mumble, checking over your shoulder to make sure Namjoon hasn’t appeared in the doorway. You hear him still rattling around in the kitchen and slide the book off of the shelf to inspect the tear. The front and back are blank save for ‘Kim’ carved into the leather on the front cover. The book has seen better days with other tears and scratches over the aging leather.

It’s thick and the pages are worn, so you carefully turn them as you flip through it. At first, it looked like a heavy novel, but you notice the words on the pages are handwritten, and there are photos glued or taped throughout. Every few chunks of pages have different handwriting in it, so you assume it has to be a diary, especially when most of the pictures show a lot of people that look like Namjoon.

“His family’s diary?” You think to yourself as you flip through it. You land on some pages that don’t seem as worn and can’t help but read a bit of it. None of it makes much sense, but you spot a page with Namjoon’s name on it and stop to read.

The humans are moving in fast. They killed Jungho last week. Caught him when he had just shifted back into his hairless form and shot him dead. I slipped away before they saw me, but I have to be the one to tell Hyuna now.

I don’t know what to do. We can’t just leave. Geongmin isn’t even walking yet. I’ll have to tell Namjoon a little about what’s going on. He’ll need to know what to do in case something happens.

“Y/n,” Namjoon’s voice behind you has you nearly leaping in the air as you hug the diary to your rapidly beating heart. His eyes dart down to the book in your arms as they widen and dart back up to meet your gaze.

“Namjoon… are you a…” You don’t know how to say it. You’re scared to ask, but you have to know. It would make so much sense. It explains why he lives in the forest alone and isolated. Why he remains unhurt and alive out here and why he never goes into your town and only the one your grandma lives in since they don’t tell wolf stories over there.

“A wolf?” he finishes, running his fingers through his hair. “Yes.” He sets his jaw as he says it and stares at you straight on.

The silence echoes loudly between the two of you, both unsure what to say or do next.

“I should be scared. I should run out after begging you not to kill me.” You close the book and slide it back onto the shelf.

You slowly approach Namjoon and he flinches when you’re much closer to him. “That’s what everyone in town has told me my whole life; that if I’m faced with a wolf, I’ll surely die and that’d be the last of me…but I’m not scared. You wouldn’t hurt me.”

He shakes his head furiously. “Never.”

Nodding, you go over to Namjoon’s old leather couch, sinking into the cushion, leaving room for him next to you. He perches next to you and lets out a tired breath. His fingers tap against his knee before he begins speaking more than you think you’ve ever heard him do since you met him.

You learn that the wolves lived here for many, many years alone. They fled to this country and traveled around from town to town for years. There was a war in his home country that had many people fleeing which included many families, including his own.

It’s how they learned English and began to teach it down the generational lines. His bloodline in particular and a few others ended up here in this town eventually, and when they found that no one inhabited the land for miles, they decided this was their new home.

Years and years went by, and Namjoon’s kind (shapeshifters, they preferred to be called) lived in peace and were happy. But one day, a large group of settlers stumbled upon them, including the man who founded the town you lived in. They found them and immediately decided they wanted this land. The shapeshifters wanted to cohabitate, but the humans refused, and a small war broke out, leaving most of the shapeshifters dead.

They all ended up retreating deep into the forest, trying to hide in the cover of darkness, but then some humans, whom his people called hunters, decided they couldn’t even have that and would seek the shapeshifters out in the woods just to kill them. They murdered them under the guise of protecting their town when it was just an excuse to wipe out his people.

This continued constantly until Namjoon was seventeen and was the only one left. His family left him this cottage where they all lived until they were found out in the woods and taken from him. He hasn’t left simply because he doesn’t know where to go. This is where he grew up and the only place he knows. He’s just lucky that the cottage is deep in the forest enough that the hunters haven’t found him.

With each word in his story, you can see how truly sad he is. His shoulders slump more and more, and he sounds as if he’s choking on each word. Your heart aches not only for him but his family and friends and everyone that was here.

When tears well in Namjoon’s glassy brown eyes, you can’t help but do the same and, without thinking, reach out to grab him, pulling him into your arms. Namjoon doesn’t pull away but does the opposite. He buries his head into your chest and begins to sob into your shirt. The sound shatters your heart, as your own tears silently slide down your cheeks.

You’ve only known Namjoon for nearly three months, but your pull to him is undeniable. You care about this man and can see just how good of a person he is. He’s so different from anyone you’ve known but in the best way possible. He’s so pure and loving; he doesn’t deserve any of the terrible tragedies that have fallen on him. There is no way this is a lie with the way that sobs wrack his large frame, which seems so much smaller gripping you tight.

Namjoon stays wrapped around you for you’re not sure how long, but you let him stay until he pulls back. His face is puffy and red, and he avoids eye contact with you.

“Sorry. I didn’t mean to -” you stop him by placing your finger over his lips.

“Don’t. Please don’t apologize. I should be the one apologizing to you. Like, I know I wasn’t involved, but fuck, I can’t even express how sorry I am. I know it won’t change anything, but I’m so sorry that humans are so shitty - that we are so, so terrible. I’m sorry that people I know are involved in all of this, and… this is all so horrendous, and I don’t have words to properly convey how sorry I am but know that I am so deeply sorry.”

He nods, something indescribable swimming in his eyes. “You know you’re the only human that I’ve seen in this town that didn’t want to kill me,” he laughs, but there’s no real humor behind it.

“Namjoon…” you go to reach for him, but he shakes his head.

“Would you mind if I had some time to myself? I just need to, I don’t know, maybe cry some more?”

“Of course!” You rush to stand up and grab your bag off of the floor. “I’ll stop by tomorrow?” You ask more than tell him and he agrees.

You get home in record time, mostly because your mind is elsewhere the entire time.

Namjoon is a wolf. You’ve been spending nearly all of your free time with a wolf, and you aren’t dead. He’s the only wolf left in town. People that you know, that you’ve grown up with, killed his entire bloodline. The wolf force is nothing but murderous hunters, and it’s likely the entire police force knows. Everyone in power knows. All of the older people in town likely know.

This is overwhelming, and your head is spinning with all of this new information. You briefly wonder if Seokjin knows all of this. He can’t because there’s no way he’d pursue that work. Right?

You get the chance to wonder even more that night when Seokjin pops up at your house for dinner. With Angela working, it’s just you, your mom, and Seokjin who sit down to eat, but you barely have an appetite as you’re still digesting everything from earlier.

“How’s training going? For the wolf force.” You ask Seokjin after he finishes talking about his dad’s new promotion.

“Good. I’ve finished a lot of the weapons training. Dad says I’ll be able to do regular patrols sooner than he thought I would.”

“What does patrol consist of again?”

Seokjin gives you a puzzled look but swallows his food to continue. “Well, it’s keeping everyone in town safe. Riding around the perimeter of the forest and keeping an eye out for any wolf sightings.”

“And what do you do if you see one?” You can’t help the challenging tone you take on now that you know what you do. There’s no way you can ever feel comfortable with this again.

“We kill it, Red.” He says matter-of-factly, shoving more pasta in his mouth after.

Your stomach churns at these words. The idea of anything happening to Namjoon hurts more than you can explain. The rest of dinner is silent on your end while Seokjin and your mom keep any signs of conversation going. He tries to ask what’s wrong before he leaves, but you simply say you’ve felt sick all day, which isn’t a complete lie.

The next day you’re due in the bakery in the morning, and the day seems to drag on before you can leave and you head straight to Namjoon’s. He’s in his garden when you arrive and doesn’t look up when you walk over and kneel next to him.

“I didn’t think you’d come back.” He speaks up first.

“Why would you think that?”

Setting the small shovel down he glances over at you. “Why do you think? I’m the big bad wolf that lives in the woods and kills people, remember? That’s what you’ve been taught your whole life. I figured I’d never see you again.”

“Hey,” you reach out and gingerly touch his arm.

“Remember when I said I wasn’t scared? I was telling the truth. I don’t think I’ll ever be scared of you. You have dimples deeper than the sea, for fucks sake. How can I be scared of that?” You don’t miss the blush that creeps onto Namjoon’s beautiful face, and the sight allows you to relax.

“Well, if it makes you feel better, there’s seriously no reason to ever think I’d hurt you. I’ve never hurt anyone in my entire life. I know that the whole town thinks we’ve killed innocent hikers or whatever, but that’s not true. I’ve watched campers walk too far into the woods and never come back. You may not know it, but the forest goes deeper than most people have ever been.”

“I had no idea. We were never really thought much about the nature out here.”

“And you know, even when my dad first told me what was happening to us, I never felt any sense of revenge. I’ve never wanted to hurt or kill anyone, even though I’ve seen people I know killed with my own eyes. Is that weird?”

“Of course not,” you scoot closer to him, your sides pressed against one another. “You’d be justified in feeling revenge if you wanted it, but you’re way too sweet. I don’t think you have a mean bone in your body.”

“Thanks for saying that.” The words are low, but you still hear them.

The relationship you have with Namjoon shifts after that, seemingly even more than it had leading up to finding out who he is. More lingering touches and more occupying each other's spaces.

It’s not long before you and Namjoon share your first kiss. It happens one afternoon when you’re helping him make lunch. You get ketchup on your cheek, and when Namjoon reaches over to wipe it off, his finger stays, and your eyes meet. It’s terribly cliche, but neither of you cares. When Namjoon’s plump, soft lips finally meet yours, nothing else matters.

Your hands wind around Namjoon’s neck and he lets you enjoy the warmth of him for a few more minutes before pulling back.

“No, why?” you pout and he laughs.

“Lunch isn’t done cooking yet.” He kisses your forehead and gently pushes you aside.

Unfortunately for your growing want for him, Namjoon continues to deny you whenever you’re kissing or holding each other when you try to initiate things further. You’ve attempted to, of course, because how could you not with the way he looks, but he always stops things before they go too far. He keeps mentioning how he’s not only never had sex and never been in a relationship, but he doesn’t even know what’ll happen if he does so with a human.

You don’t want to pressure him, but your desire lingers each time his built arms wrap around you or his full lips engulf your own.

“We’ll try it soon,” he always says, and you promise to wait and be more patient, even if you fantasize about him taking you every night when you’re alone.

The weeks go on, turning into months and soon you’ve known Namjoon for nearly half a year, and you see each other nearly every day. You’ve been romantically together for a month before you decide to claim him as your boyfriend and he does the same with you as his girlfriend.

You’ve never cared for anyone as strongly as you do for Namjoon, and he always says the same about you. Your excuses to your mom and friends somewhere along the line transformed to you going to take bike rides to work out and get more active and surprisingly, they all seem to buy it. Except for Seokjin. He asks more questions out of everyone, but you always manage to shake him.

Today you’re celebrating Namjoon’s birthday, so you pack a backpack with a small cake you asked Seokjin’s mom to make (to satisfy a craving you said). You also slip on the only cute lingerie set you own (a powder blue number) that you hope will show Namjoon that you really want to take the next step with him, no matter the chance.

As you’re mounting your bike, Seokjin pulls up.

“Red!”

“Hey, Jin.” you do your best to hide your lack of excitement.

“Where are you headed?” He inquires, and you know he has many more questions.

“Oh just to my grandma’s. Dropping some stuff from my mom.”

“Ah, well hop in! I’m off today and I miss granny! I know she misses me.” Seokjin boasts, moving to get back in his car.

“No, that’s okay. She isn’t feeling well, so I’m just stopping by quickly. She wouldn’t want you to get sick.”

“I’ll just poke my head in, that’s all. She would make an exception for her Jinnie.”

“Seriously, it’s okay, you know she��s serious about her health and everyone around her! I’ll tell her you said hi, though!” Before Seokjin can object again like you know he will, you pedal away, yelling over your shoulder that you’ll text him later to meet up. He calls your name, but you ignore him and keep pushing forward.

You breathe a sigh of relief as your mind shifts to Namjoon as you bike through town and the woods in what you feel like is record time. When you arrive at the cottage, you leave your bike outside as usual and let yourself in. Namjoon is on his couch, book in hand when you come in.

“Happy birthday!” You cheer, setting your backpack down gingerly before all but diving into Namjoon’s lap.

He lets out an ‘oof’ at you crashing into him but doesn’t push you off. “Thank you, baby.” As usual, the pet name sends a shiver through you as you bring your lips to his and kiss him hard.

“I brought you a cake,” you breathe once you pull away. Namjoon’s eyes light up, and he almost looks more excited about the premise of a cake than his girlfriend draping her body over him. Once you’re up, you pull him behind you and carry your backpack into the kitchen.

“Ta-dah!” You present the cake in a flourish when you fish it out of your bag and set it on the table. “I’m so sorry I forgot to buy you a phone, but I will tomorrow! I hate not being able to speak to you when we’re apart and…” That’s when you notice the tears almost welling in Namjoon’s eyes as he admires the dessert.

“Wh-what’s wrong?” Did I do something wrong? Is the cake ugly?”

“Nothing! It’s just that, the last time I celebrated my birthday was when my parents were…” he trails off, and you rush over, pulling his face to yours to place soft kisses all over his face.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. We can do the cake later if you want?”

“Okay. I just ate so I’m a little full anyway, but I do want it!”

“Well, I know how we can work up an appetite for cake.”

Namjoon cocks an eyebrow at you. “Oh?”

Smirking, you pull away and shrug your jacket off, then pull your shirt over your head. Namjoon’s breath audibly catches in his throat at the sight of the soft blue lace that cups your breasts. You shimmy out of your jeans slowly so he can follow how good your legs look in the matching thong and garters.

“Wow.” Namjoon admires.

“Are you gonna unwrap your present?” You pout, fingers playing with the straps of your bra. You see the inner turmoil behind his eyes as he weighs his choices, and you instantly feel guilty. “We don’t have to if you truly, genuinely don’t want to.”

Namjoon only gives it a few more seconds before crossing the room and pulling you into a kiss. There’s a sound outside then that has you both freezing as you wait for a few seconds before you hear scratching at the door.

“Sugar,” he mumbles, going over to let the cat in. The black cat rushes in and sits by the door, staring outside.

Paying him no mind, Namjoon comes back to you and tosses you over his shoulder, making you squeal.

“Are you sure you want this?” Namjoon asks as he carries you upstairs to his room.

“I wouldn’t be here in what barely constitutes as clothing if I didn’t.” You bounce slightly when he tosses you onto the bed and quickly drapes his large frame over yours.

“I just wanted to make sure… I don’t want to hurt you,” his words are laced with concern, but the drop in his tone still has you biting your lip and spreading your legs open almost immediately.

Namjoon’s hand finds yours above your head and cradles it before he moves to place kisses on your fingers. His lips move down your arm to your neck, your cheeks, then your lips. As romantic as he is, the want that you feel for him is immeasurable.

The kiss is short but sloppy, your tongues frantic as they meet in your mouth. Your fingers move up to tangle in his hair and when you yank the strands, Namjoon lets out a hiss that you feel shoot directly to your core.

He sits up and kneels, yanking his shirt off and tossing it elsewhere in the room. Your eyes sweep over his body. The taut, sculpted muscles of his abdomen are enough to send you into even more of a needy frenzy. You don’t know why you never thought about just how good he’d look without a shirt, but you never want him to wear one again after this.

Namjoon nuzzles into your neck, leaving kisses and nips on your soft skin in between inhales of breath. “You have no idea how good you always smell,” he speaks into your neck. “Always so damn sweet.” He works his way down to your chest, your stomach, stopping at your clothed sex. He kisses his way back up your body, his hands running over every part of you he can touch.

“You’re so beautiful, Y/n. Every single part of you deserves to be worshipped.” He whispers each time his lips meet your skin. He lavishes you with more compliments as he kisses every part of you not covered by fabric, then moves up to help you take your bra off.

At the sight of your bare breasts, you watch Namjoon’s pupils dilate, his hand immediately reaching to tweak one of your nipples, and you gasp. He smiles, bending to take your other nipple into his mouth and bites down on the nub.

“Ah!” You squeal, his tongue quickly lapping at it after biting, then he sucks harshly in time with the way he rolls your other nipple between his calloused fingers. He continues kneading at your soft flesh, wetness pooling in your panties more with each suck and each tug. You’re torn between begging him to touch you where you’re truly aching for him most and not wanting him to stop.

As if reading your mind at that moment, he releases your nipple with a ‘pop’, moving to kiss the valley between your breasts, then back up to your neck. His large, warm hands trail down your body, fingers hooking into your panties to yank them down your legs and tossing them somewhere in the room. His digits immediately move to your pussy, spreading your already moist lips apart.

The sensation causes you to jump, a whimper falling from your mouth, making Namjoon grunt. His teeth nibble harder at your skin as he plunges a single thick finger into you.

“Oh!” You gasp, already feeling full, and he hasn’t even properly started yet. With his finger pushing inside of you, Namjoon finally leaves the bitten skin of your neck, no doubt littered with marks, to shift down your body. He situates himself between your legs, blowing warm air onto your wetness. You feel his nose nuzzling against your inner thigh, then against your clit and you jolt again.

“Fucking delicious,” he murmurs before surging forward, lips latching onto your clit and sucking hard.

“Namjoon - fuck!” You shriek, pleasure shooting through your whole body as he suckles at your sensitive bud, his finger never ceasing its movement in you. He keeps a steady pace of sucking your clit and fingering you, eventually stuffing a second digit in you. You can’t help but reach down to grip his blonde locks, tugging at the hair while you squirm.

Namjoon lets out grunts and low groans as he fucks you with his fingers, and right when you feel as though you may cum, he slips his fingers out, you whimpering at the loss.

He makes up for it quick. As soon as he sucks your juices off of his hand, he dives into your pussy again, this time tongue first, and you nearly pass out. His tongue pistons in and out of you, eating you out as if you’re his last meal. His thumb furiously rubs your clit, the intensity only serving to have you letting out various high-pitched noises as you beg him to let you cum.

“Joon, please, fuck please, let me cum…” you plead as you hold his head in place as you move your hips to match his tongue’s movement, chasing your end as it creeps closer.

“Mmhmm,” he mumbles into you, tongue-fucking you to orgasm, his name tumbling from your lips.

When Namjoon finally comes up for air, he’s beaming down at you, face glistening as your juices dry on his skin.

“You taste even better than I thought you would,” he compliments, a blush creeping up your neck at his words. He leans down to meet your lips, and you taste yourself on his tongue as he moves it into your mouth, your body reacting to him instantly, your hips pushing up towards him with more want.

“Well, how about you find out if I also feel as good as you thought.” You purr when he pulls back, desperately waiting for him to fuck you.

“I want to, so bad,” he sighs, fingertips ghosting over your skin as he surveys your naked body underneath him.

“So what are you waiting for?” The playfulness leaves his eyes for a second, and you can tell his earlier worry of hurting you is resurfacing. “Joon, please. I want you to,” to drive the point home further, you flip onto your stomach, getting on all fours to present yourself to him. “You won’t hurt me, just please fill me up.”

Since you’re looking at him over your shoulder, you watch as the worry etched onto his face twists into something much more desperate, feral even.

“Are you sure?” He grits, bottom lip bit between his teeth while his hands ghost over your ass.

“Namjoon, please take me,” you beg, pushing your ass into his still clothed crotch, feeling just how much he truly wants you. “Now!”

Something akin to a growl comes from him as he tugs his pants and underwear down, his erection visible. Your mouth falls open at the sheer girth of him, and only momentarily do you wonder if he’ll even fit. The stickiness between your legs doesn’t care, though, as you quite literally throb at the thought of him shoving his cock into you.

Namjoon’s hands grip your ass, pulling you closer to him, his hardness rubbing against your pussy, so close to where you want him.

“You have to tell me if you want to stop okay? Say the word and I’ll stop.” He assures you, sounding just like the sweet, thoughtful Namjoon that you’ve gotten to know.

Instead of responding verbally, you simply nod and maneuver your body enough that you can push back against him again. This time his cockhead just barely slips between your lips, both of you letting out identical moans at the smallest amount of relief to your want.

Namjoon takes this as the okay he needs, slowly plunging his thickness into you as a long, low whine slips out of you. Once he’s sheathed completely inside of you, he stills, adjusting on his knees behind you.

“Fuck yes,” he sighs, squeezing the flesh of your ass before he begins moving his hips, matching sounds of pleasure shared between the two of you. With a firm hold on you, Namjoon’s pace quickens, the sound of skin slapping skin rings out in the room, mixing with your desperate sounds.

“Y-yes, Joon!”

“Feel good, baby?” He coos, his caring words a stark contrast from the bruising thrusts he’s subjecting you to.

“So good, Joon! So good!” you shout, savoring the rough drag of his cock against your soft walls. You know you’ll be sore tomorrow, but it’ll be a welcomed pain; your body has never known pleasure like this and you’re hooked already.

“Fuck, you look so beautiful like this, stuffed full of my cock.” He snarls, the speed of his thrusts becoming rougher, his cock sinking even deeper into you.

“You’re taking me so well, baby.” His words are only serving to spur you on more, your body on fire as he quite literally fucks you into the mattress.

Your hands grip at the sheets attempting to anchor yourself. “Namjoon, fuck!”

“Ugh, I love hearing you say my name. Say it again, baby.” He swivels his hips when he says that, his cock easily brushing against your g-spot, making your eyes cross and your stomach twist.

“Namjoon!” You shriek, so close to your second orgasm, this one has you convulsing before it even hits. “I’m so close, please!”

“M-me too. Fuck, Y/n, I’m gonna cum. It - it’s gonna be a lot and -”

“Just do it, please!” You’re desperate, your voice sounding hysterical as you are so, so close. Namjoon harshly hums, only a few more wild thrusts have you finally coming undone, a scream of his name ripping from your throat and into the pillow your face is buried in.

Namjoon seems to roar as his thick cum pumps into you, and his cock swells both painfully while also being pleasurable. His hips stutter in motion, and his heavy, hot body drapes over you as he keeps filling you up, your walls stretching to accommodate him.

You whine, shifting to find a more comfortable position to no avail. “Joon,” you pout, body still shaking uncontrollably.

“I know, baby. It’ll be over soon.” He peppers kisses all over your shoulder blades while rubbing comforting circles on your back.

He’s right, as the pressure does eventually start to lessen, and soon enough, it’s gone and he’s able to slip his softening cock out of your sore hole. You immediately flop onto the bed, legs made of jelly and your body exhausted.

“Knotting?” You rasp once you find your voice again. Namjoon sputters in response, opening and closing his mouth with no answer. You laugh, slowly turning to your side to look at him. His honeyed skin is covered in a sheen of sweat and his hair is flat to his head and even still, he’s just as beautiful as always. “It’s okay. I kind of looked some stuff up online. I was just curious,” you supply, laughing awkwardly. “Is that weird?”

“O-oh, no! Sorry, I just didn’t know what to say is all. It’s okay; it’s the main reason I was afraid, but at least I don’t have to explain it too much.” He lets out his own nervous laughter, the sweet sound making you smile. Unable to help it, you reach out to cup Namjoon’s face and kiss him, which he immediately returns.

A warmth spreads through your body, your heart feeling full of nothing but the care you feel for Namjoon. “Thank you,” you whisper against his lips.

“Thank you,” he mumbles back, nuzzling his nose against yours and your heart clenches again for him at the gesture.

Fatigue quickly replaces that feeling when you yawn, the mid-afternoon sun coming through the window only serving to make you even cozier. “I think I need a quick nap.” You stretch out, tired joints cracking with each movement.

“We can do that. And then we can have cake when we’re up?”

“Of course,” you chuckle at the eagerness in his voice. Namjoon wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer to him. You snuggle into his bare chest his warm skin and heartbeat easing you into a quick, welcomed sleep.

Something tells you to open your eyes, and when you do, you notice how dark the room is. It takes only a few seconds before you realize that you’re not in your room, but in Namjoon’s, and the sun has already set.

“Oh, fuck!” You curse, jumping out of bed and scrambling to find your clothes. Your muscles protest, but you ignore it as you scan the floor.

“What’s going on?” Namjoon jolts up and watches you with tired eyes.

“It’s dark, which means my mom is probably home and is wondering where the hell I am. I gotta go home.” You can’t find your lingerie set and decide to just forgo it, rushing downstairs to retrieve your jeans and shirt, still on the kitchen floor.

Namjoon follows behind, pulling on sweatpants along the way. “Get home safe, okay?”

Once your clothes are on, you give him one last kiss for the night as you zip your jacket. “I will. And I’ll come by tomorrow afternoon after I grab you a phone!” You call goodbye and rush out, hopping on your bike to get home. You’re out of breath when you get there, seeing your mom, Angela, and Seokjin’s cars in the driveway.

“Great,” you groan to yourself and steel yourself when you pass the threshold.

“Y/n! Where the hell have you been?!” Your mom shrieks before you even shut the door, Angela following her and frowning.

“I’ve been home since the sun was setting because I was able to leave the hospital early and I find you nowhere to be seen and not answering your phone for either of us!” Your phone had been in your discarded jeans and there was no way you would’ve heard it while you and Namjoon were having sex.

Seokjin comes around the corner, arms crossed and disapproval on his face like some sort of authority figure. “If I hadn’t come by again when you didn’t answer my texts, your mom wouldn’t have even known you were seeing your grandma.”

“I-”

“I called your grandmother, and she said she hasn’t seen you all day!”

“Yeah, I’m-”

“And I didn’t see you when I was patrolling, Y/n.” Angela cuts in, hands on her hips as she reprimands you. “And I drove all around town, including through the woods.” Angela and your mom may not be married yet, but with them having been together since you were a teenager and her moving in when you left for college, she still, at times, feels like your true second mom.

“You know when I think about it,” your mom starts again. “You’ve barely been home much for weeks except when you’re babysitting or going and coming. What’s going on?!”

You begin to panic, scrambling to come up with an excuse. “I… I’m, I’m just tired of being here, okay!” It’s not a lie, just not the truth to this particular question.

“What?” Your mom asks, only slightly gentler than before.

“I need time to myself! I miss the city, and working these two jobs every day over and over again is so suffocating! I’m a grown woman, and if I want to ride around alone to clear my head, I can, okay?”

Your mom doesn’t say anything, but her face shows sadness. “Y/n, I didn’t realize. I knew you missed the city, but I didn’t know it was this bad.” The guilt in her voice makes you feel guilty, but you push it down to get through this conversation.

“Mom, I love you, I do, but I need to be able to take time to myself. I’ll be thirty soon, and I still live with my mother. I should be allowed to be alone.”

“I’m sorry, you’re right. I just love and care about you, and I want you to be safe.” She softens and comes over to hug you.

“I know.”

“But I also know I can be a little too overprotective.” She pulls back and offers you a smile. “I won’t breathe down your neck about where you’re going, but I still want responses to my texts, at least. I just need to know you’re okay.”

“I can do that. Sorry to make you worry.”

“Yeah, you better be. Don’t do that again.”

“I won’t.”

“I know you won’t.” She gives you a stern look and lets you go, leaving room for Angela to come over and hug you. “Now that I’m done having a heart attack, I’ll order dinner. My nerves are too shot to cook. Pizza?”

“Half black olives.” You and Angela answer in unison.

“Got it. Seokjin, will you stay for dinner?” You forgot that your best friend is still here, looking angry in the background during the whole exchange.

“No. I’ll be leaving as soon as I use the bathroom.” He hurries down the hall, and you take your leave, saying you’re going to go shower before the pizza is here.

Once in your room, you put your phone on the charger and move to pull your shirt over your head, but Seokjin barging into your room makes you scream and pull your shirt back down.

“Jin, are you insane?! How about you knock first!” He shuts the door behind him, fury clouding his features.

“Did you leave your little blue bra at your boyfriend’s house?” He says with too much venom in his voice. Your stomach sinks at his words.

“What did you just say?”

“Or did the wolf rip it off of you as he bred you?”

“Seokjin, get the fuck out!”

“No! Not until you tell me why the hell you’re running around in the woods and fucking a wolf! Is that why you’ve been so distant these past few months? I knew something was going on, but I had no idea it’d be this!” Seokjin spits, disgust in his tone.

“It’s none of your fucking business what I’ve been doing! And did you follow me earlier?!”

“I sure did because I knew you were lying to me. I’ve known you were lying every time you ran off mysteriously, but I finally caught you. How could you, Red?!”

“I can’t believe you followed me. And what, were you fucking peeping in on us?”

“I didn’t mean to see all that I saw! I knew you were lying so I followed you with my car but stayed far enough that you didn’t notice. Then when you got off your bike and walked through the woods, it wasn’t hard to follow behind you. I had my gun on me because we were going through the woods where we shouldn’t be going. I watched you go into his house, and I waited, then I saw you in one of the windows talking to him. Then you were kissing and getting naked for him, and I wanted to burst in and drag you out so badly.”

You’re furious, and it’s taking everything in you not to haul off and punch your best friend. “I don’t even know what to say to you right now. I seriously can’t believe you.”

“I could say the same to you! I just don’t understand what’s going through your thick skull doing the reckless shit you’re doing.”

“Alright, first the fuck of all, don’t you ever follow me again! What you did is such a gross invasion of my privacy.”

“Oh please, I was -”

“Second of all, how do you know who he is?”

“Come on, Red, it’s not hard to figure out. No human is going to live in the woods on their own. If they did, they surely wouldn't be alive right now.”

“Right, because you hunters wouldn’t kill a human, you only wipe out non-humans just for the hell of it.”

Seokjin scoffs. “Is that what your wolf told you? And you believe that animal?”

“He’s not an animal!” You shout, hoping no one downstairs is hearing any of this. “He told me about his past, Jin. Hunters, your ancestors, your grandfather, and your father, they’ve killed off his entire family.”

He doesn’t respond, only looking you up and down, shaking his head. “I can’t believe you. After everything that’s happened to this town and everything the members of my family have done for everyone and you’re saying this. You’re a fucking traitor.”

Seokjin’s words hurt, even though you’re furious with him. You’ve never been in a serious argument, but this just seems to keep escalating. “Seokjin, you need to do your research. The history of this town and your family is very different from what we’ve been told.”

A bitter laugh falls from his lips. “I thought you were smart, Red, but you’re acting so stupid right now.”

“Seokjin -”

“I was going to ask you to marry me!” He screams, face red and brows knitted in the angriest way possible.

“What? Seokjin, we’ve had this talk. I’ve told you before that I don’t like you like that.”

“Right, because you’d rather run around fucking wild dogs. I suppose he’s made you his bitch now?”

“Fuck you!” You yell, lunging across the room at Seokjin, fists ready, but he’s faster and pins your arms behind your back.

“Whatever, Red. I hope you enjoyed your little Twilight fantasy. You just ruined any future we could’ve had.” He roughly lets you go, and you stumble to back away.

“Seokjin, you need to think about this! Why would I lie to you?”

“You’re clearly brainwashed, and I don’t want to deal with this, or you, anymore.” He storms out then, slamming your bedroom door behind him.

You run to your bedroom window and throw it open. Poking your head out, you see Seokjin leave soon after and call him as he walks to his car, but he ignores you. He looks at you before peeling away from the curb but says nothing.

Having heard some of the commotion, your mom comes upstairs to ask what’s wrong. You quickly come up with a lie, saying that you and Seokjin fought about you wanting to move back to the city.

“Oh sweetie, you know Seokjin cares about you, that’s all. I’m sure he’ll come around. You two have never fought for long.”

You hope so, but you doubt it. You barely eat any of your pizza or get any sleep. Seokjin continues to ignore your calls and texts. If you can just get him when he’s calm then maybe you can explain everything, and he can even meet Namjoon and hear it straight from him. Seokjin is stubborn, but there’s no way he’d stay that mad at you forever.

The following morning, you feel like shit, but get dressed and go downstairs anyway. You’re babysitting tonight but want to get Namjoon a phone before then.

“Morning,” you mumble to your mom sitting at the kitchen island as you pour coffee into a travel mug.

“Morning. You’ve just missed all the fuss.” She says, scrolling through her phone.

“What do you mean?”

“Angela just hurried out of here saying there was a wolf spotting last night.” You nearly overfill the mug at her words, almost missing the point where you need to stop pouring.

“What?”

“Yeah, apparently Jin saw it last night on the way home. Someone on the force called her to tell her. He’s leading his father and the rest of the wolf force into the woods this morning to find it.”

Panic overcomes you instantly. Namjoon. Seokjin is going to lead them to Namjoon.

No.

“I need to meet Chaerin!” You call your mom, already running to the front door for your sneakers from yesterday. You’ve got to get to Namjoon first. You have to.

You drop your bike into a bush at the beginning of the clearing to Namjoon’s. You run the rest of the way as fast as your legs can carry you, leaves and twigs snapping beneath your sneakers. When you reach the cottage, you’re out of breath and panting, but the only thing that matters is getting to Namjoon.

Fumbling with the key, you finally get the door unlocked, barging in as he’s coming out of the bathroom.

“Y/n, what’s going on?”

“We have to go, now!” You walk around the small house, trying to identify anything of value that he should pick up.

“Go where? What’s happening?” Namjoon grabs your wrist, turning you to look at him. “Talk to me.”

Fighting back tears, you look at him, heart hurting. This is all your fault, and the guilt is immeasurable.

“Joon, the hunters know you’re here. They’re talking about coming out here today to… get you. We need to leave right now. Please.”

Fear visibly overcomes him as his eyes quickly glance around the house. “Okay,” he breathes. “Let’s get out of here.”

He packs a bag of some of his things while you pick Sugar up, gently placing the cat in a backpack. He purrs the entire time, not even aware of what’s happening.

“We just need to make it through the forest and across the bridge to the next town over!” You call through the house. “The wolf force can’t do anything to you over there.”

Namjoon comes into the room with a duffel bag in hand. “Sounds good. I’m rea-” He freezes, head whipping around to the front of the house without a sound. You try to listen too, straining to hear anything, but you don’t. You want to ask what it is, but that’s when the distinct sound of snapping twigs approaching reaches your ears.

“They’re here,” Namjoon whispers, followed by a loud knock on the door.

You both freeze, holding your breath in hopes that they’ll go away. You have no such luck as another knock against the wooden door rings out.

“Hello?! This is the Wolf Force! I’m gonna need you to open the door.” You recognize the voice of Seokjin’s father and grit your teeth.

“Fuck… okay I’ll answer it.” You whisper, and Namjoon shakes his head. “That’s Seokjin’s dad. If he sees me, maybe he’ll go away.”

“But what if he doesn’t?”

“Then wait by the backdoor with Sugar, and if it goes bad I’ll shut the door, and we’ll go out the back.” Namjoon still doesn’t like this but agrees. You take a deep breath and open the front door.

Mr. Kim is surprised to see you and backs up to inspect you. Behind him are the other members of the wolf force that you recognize from town, including Angela and Seokjin, who is directly behind his father. There’s fiery anger in his eyes that you do your best to return when your eyes meet.

“Y/n? What are you doing out here?” Mr. Kim asks. He tries to look around you, but you keep the front door closed, save for enough space for you to partially step out.

“This is a cottage I found recently so I’m just hanging out. I don’t think anyone lives here, so I’ve just been coming here.” You hope it doesn’t sound like as much of a lie as you think it does.

“So you found a random house in the forest and have just been staying in it?” Angela interjects, eyeing you carefully.

“Yeah, “your chuckle sounds nervous, and you want to kick yourself. “You know I love my mom, but I need my space.”

Mr. Kim doesn’t believe you. “Right… and what were you doing out in the forest this far to find it?”

“Oh, I followed an injured rabbit out here weeks ago and stumbled upon it.” Everyone surrounding the house seems to adjust their guns as you speak subtly, and the dread in the pit of your stomach is only growing. “Don’t worry. It was daytime, so no worries.”

“Seokjin says he saw a wolf walking around very early this morning and that it ran in this direction.”

Your eyes meet your best friend’s again and stay locked on him as you speak. “Oh wow, well luckily I haven’t seen any, and I didn’t run into any when I came out here. Maybe it went another direction you didn’t see.”

“I highly doubt that, Red.”

“Well, Jin, maybe you just didn’t see what happened very well.”

“I know what I saw!” Seokjin snaps. His father places a hand on his shoulder to calm him down.

“Look, Y/n, I don’t know what’s going on here, but we’ll need to check the house.”

“For what?”

“Y/n, you know what.” The rest of the force slowly advances towards you. This is only escalating more, and you can tell. You only know the basics of the wolf force from what Seokjin and Angela have told you, but when they want to sweep an area for wolves, they do it. You don’t think they’ll hurt you since they know you, but they will force their ways in since they aren't buying your story. You can’t let them hurt Namjoon. You won’t let them.

“Oh, for wolves? So you can continue murdering them?”

“Excuse me?” Mr. Kim balks.

“Just cut the bullshit.” Whatever’s going to happen will be bad, so why not make your feelings very clearly known. “I know the truth. I know that the wolf force is just an excuse for you all to murder innocent people for existing.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about, Y/n. Now step aside.” Angela’s tone is stern, but you don’t budge.

“You can lie to my face all you want, but I’m not buying it. And no, I won’t be stepping aside.”

“Y/n!” Mr. Kim bellows, stepping forward once more. “Impeding on the actions of the wolf force is a crime. If you stand in the way of us keeping this town safe, we will be bringing you in.”

You scoff at him, but he doesn’t stand down. This is it - the moment that things will only go from bad to worse. It’s silent for a second with no one moving. You feel a gentle hand on your back from the other side of the door. Your hand that’s holding the door and out of sight from the wolf force, moves slowly, grasping onto Namjoon’s hand and squeezing. He gives you a slight tug, which you know means it’s time to move.

Slipping out of his grasp, you carefully move your hand to the doorknob. No one except Seokjin notices and he’s the one to speak.

“Y/n.” The force glances his way, and you take this opportunity to jerk back inside and slam the door shut, locking it right as Namjoon moves and pushes his nearby console table in front of it.

“Upstairs to my room and out of the window! They’ll no doubt block the back!” He runs upstairs with you on his tail after you’ve grabbed the bag with Sugar from him as bangs sound at the front door.

Just as you reach the large window of Namjoon’s bedroom that faces the side of the house, you both hear a heavy crash as the front door is kicked open.

“Red?!” Seokjin’s voice makes you start to panic. As you know it’ll only take a few minutes before he and the rest of the force find you both up here.

“Hey, listen to me,” Namjoon starts, holding your face to look at him. “This ledge is very narrow, so when I step out of the window, I need you to grab onto my back and don’t let me go, no matter what you do.”

Terrified, you still say yes. You trust Namjoon, no matter what your fears are telling you. Namjoon quickly climbs out of the window, adjusting his bags wrapped around his shoulders, and bends his knees slightly.

“Y/n!” Angela’s voice is close as footsteps begin thudding upstairs.

“Y/n, let’s go!” Namjoon waves for you to climb on. Taking a deep breath and making sure the backpack is securely on your shoulders, you hoist yourself up into the window frame.

“Red - Y/n, stop!” Seokjin’s voice is behind you, and when you whip your head around, you see he’s standing there, gun at his side as he watches you. “Don’t do this. I can make it so that you don’t get in too much trouble. Please come with me.”

You hesitate, only for a second. “What happens to Namjoon?” You don’t miss the dark shadow that casts itself over Seokjin’s features and that’s all you need to know.

Without another word, you latch onto Namjoon’s back, and he leaps from the second story. You feel the ghosting of Seokjin’s fingers on your arm, having been too slow to catch you.

There are still members of the wolf force on the ground who turn towards the sound of Namjoon’s feet hitting the ground with their guns drawn. He doesn’t hesitate as he takes off into the trees, bullets flying past as he weaves and dodges obstacles.

The next town over isn’t that far by bike usually, but you may get there faster with the speed at which Namjoon’s feet are moving. For a second, you only hear the sound of nature whooshing by, but the rumble of ATV motors fills your ears soon after. They’re getting closer, so Namjoon zig zags and goes deeper into the forest, the sounds getting further away.

When you reach a large gathering of trees, Namjoon stops behind one and you get off of his back, both of you sinking to the ground. You can’t hear anything other than your breathing and the faint sounds of the motors.

Namjoon’s face is screwed in concentration as he listens to the sounds surrounding you both.

“They’re heading to the bridge between this town the next.”

“They’re trying to block us from leaving.” You finish his thought. “How far away are we? I couldn’t tell when we left your house.”

“Not too far - a handful of miles maybe. The only issue will be getting around the blockade I’m sure they’re setting up.”

“Can we just keep going through the woods?”

“We can but we’ll have to be fast…” he trails off, eyes darting to you. “I can’t go as quickly as we need to in uh, in this form.” He doesn’t look at you when he says it as if he’s embarrassed.

“Hey, Joon, if you need to shift, please don’t feel like you can’t. I’m okay.” You grasp his hand, placing a kiss on his knuckles. He smiles and kisses your forehead.

“I uh, usually don’t have clothes on for this, so I’m gonna put them in my bag real quick.”

“No need to be so shy, you know. I literally saw you naked yesterday.” Rolling his eyes, Namjoon quickly pulls his clothes off and shoves them into his duffel bag.

“Once I change, you can still talk to me as normal, I just can’t speak back. Grab my bag and hop on my back, and we’ll go. Hold on as tight as you can; I don’t plan on stopping until we’re across town lines.” You nod and watch as Namjoon takes a deep breath before you see it with your own eyes. The tan man with perfect skin and hair shifts in front of you, his long limbs and torso twisting, elongating and changing, and growing honey-colored fur.

In front of you now stands the tallest creature you’ve ever seen before. Taller than any horse or any cow you’ve encountered at childhood petting zoos. Namjoon is just as beautiful as a powerful wolf, his fur looking soft and golden, yellow eyes shining as they meet yours.

Having a real, actual wolf in front of you, you feel no fear. Only fascination and wonder and something that may have been stirring in your heart for Namjoon this whole time the more you get to know him. Seeing him this way, in his other true form, knowing he feels comfortable enough around you to show you this side of him - the word ‘love’ rings in your ears as you look at him.

You snap out of your self-induced trance when he noses at his bag, the signal for you to get moving. You grab the duffel bag, adjusting it across your chest, making sure it’s secure on you. After checking to make sure the backpack still on your back housing Sugar is also safe, you climb onto Namjoon’s back and situate yourself. You bend and wrap your limbs around his body the best you can.

“I’m ready,” you murmur into his fur, but he still hears you. Before you even have a chance to think much else, you feel the fast movement of air around you. The ride is much bumpier than when you were on human-form Namjoon’s back, and you have to make sure you’re clutching him tightly as he weaves through the trees. Your eyes are closed as you burrow your face into his neck and wait to get to a safe spot.

Quicker than you thought, he slows down, and you pop your head up to take in your surroundings. You’re still in the brush, but the bridge is in sight. Police cars and ATVs are lined up in front of it and along the riverbed. You scan the crowd, recognizing nearly every face and feeling nothing but anger. Anger that these people you grew up with would be doing something so terrible and angry that they’re doing this now even when they know you’re involved.

“Are we looking for an opening?” Namjoon grunts at your question, which sounds like an affirmation. You give another once over to the side of the bridge you’re on, just as one of the wolf force members walks away leaving the spot between them and the bridge open with a gap wide enough that Namjoon could probably run through to make it over the river. You point it out to him and he lets out a snuff. He looks at you over his shoulder the best he can and whines quietly.

It’s dangerous and you know that this could end badly if one thing goes wrong. You caress the top of Namjoon’s head and lean down to place a kiss on him. He whines again, then takes a step back. You tighten your arms and legs around him, torn between keeping your eyes open or closing them until it’s over.

You end up opting to keep them open and watch as Namjoon takes off towards the clearing. He’s moving so fast that no one notices him until he comes tumbling out of the trees. The distance to the river isn’t much, and you seem to dodge every obstacle, bullets whizzing over you with each step. You hear a voice that sounds like Angela’s call out your name, but you can’t see her.

Everyone’s face is a blur with how fast you’re going, but the unmistakable expression of anger seems to be shared, except for one face you know to be Seokjin’s. It seems like something akin to sadness maybe or hurt. For a second, you understand it. He’s been your best friend since the two of you were born and because of a lie and violence that started before you even came to be, that friendship is dying instantly.

You give him what might be a comparable expression, even if his gun is raised above you as he does so. Namjoon’s front paws hit the water and he stumbles at the same time that you feel something smash into him. He seems to tumble forward but keeps his balance enough so that you don’t get knocked off. He’s slower but still moving.

You hear more gunshots and it feels like an eternity goes by as Namjoon lumbers to the other side of the river and throws himself onto the wet soil on the other side.

The ground squishes when you fall to the side and onto it. You’re out of breath and panting, but relief floods your senses when you realize you’re lying on the other side in the next town over where they don’t have wolf laws. You’ve made it out.

Sitting up, you see the irate faces of the wolf force staring back at you, powerless. Your eyes meet Angela’s as she says your name, but you don’t respond. Seokjin is next to her and you look at him, unspoken words are exchanged and none of them feel positive. When you finally tear your gaze away from Seokjin and look to Namjoon, you realize why he’s been so quiet.

He’s back in his human form, face contorted in what looks like pain. He’s naked and curled into a ball, blood seeping from a wound on his side. Terror zips through your body like electricity as you watch him bleed.

“Namjoon! Joon, please hold on!!” Your eyes blur with tears.

“Hey, hey. It’s not as bad as it looks, I promise.” He smiles at you, but the expression is switched quickly to a frown.

“Come on, we can go to my grandmother’s, and she can help. Can you move?”

“Mmhmm,” he tries his best to assure you but fails. After helping him stand up, you take him to off to the side behind a tree, so you can help him get at least his pants on.

You’re more than thankful that your grandmother lives close enough that you and Namjoon can limp there in a reasonable amount of time. When you’re through her door after she answers, she’s ushering Namjoon into her kitchen without hesitation and listening to you tell her, through cries, everything that’s happened. You’ve always been able to tell her anything, so the sight of her, and the worry about Namjoon, all compound and you can’t hold it in anymore.

Once she’s dressed Namjoon’s wound and he’s lying on her couch, you properly explain everything from start to finish. She patiently listens, offering hugs and tissues where needed.

That’s when you find out that she knew all of this, and it’s the reason she left town when she did. She and a lot of the older people in town knew the true intentions of the wolf force and the history of where you live. She was always against it but could never do anything to stop it. She finally was so fed up enough to leave town and tried to get your mom to do so. That discussion caused the argument with your mom who also knew the truth but was against uprooting everything and changing the life both only she and you had known. She had her job, you were almost done with high school, she owned the home you lived in, and she had Angela, who your grandma is also sure pressured her into staying.

The thought of your mom knowing and choosing what she was comfortable with over the horrible truth, frustrates you and you know this will be a heavy conversion to be had - but you’re not ready for that right now. You only think of Namjoon and what your next steps will be.

“Do you two need a place to stay?” Your grandma asks as if reading your mind.

“Yes. I wouldn’t ask, but we didn’t anticipate this happening so fast. I have a good amount of money saved up, but we’ll need more for both of us to survive somewhere. And now I’ll need a new job over here to continue to get the rest of that together.”

“Well, you two are welcomed to my guest room while you’re saving. I’ll talk to some folks around town to see if any of them have any open jobs they need to be filled.”

Your grandma moves to get up, and you can’t help but reach out to place your hand over hers. “Thank you, so much grandma. Thank you for being the only one who understands.”

She places her other hand over yours and squeezes. “Of course. I’m always on your side.”

You smile gratefully, letting go of her hand so she can go into the next room. You’re left alone only for a few seconds before you hear a groaning coming from the living room. You’re through the door in a flash, kneeling on the carpet beside Namjoon, Sugar sitting on the couch above his head already purring to comfort him.

“Y/n?” He asks groggily, squinting his eyes to take in his surroundings.

“Hey, hey I’m right here.” You grab his hand, and he squeezes back, brown eyes finally focusing on your face.

“We made it to your grandma’s.”

“Yeah, we did. You don’t remember getting here?”

“Truth be told I don’t remember much getting from the bridge and then here.” He frowns, lifting his head to inspect his bandaged stomach.

“That’s fair. As soon as she opened the door, you passed out, but grandma says you’ll be alright. The bullet went clean through, so she just had to patch the holes up and cover you up. You need lots of rest, but she doesn’t believe it’s anything worth racking up a hospital bill over unless you want to.”

Namjoon shakes his head. “I know this town is different, but I’m not prepared to see a human doctor for the first time just yet.”

Nodding you lean down to kiss his hand. “I was so scared when you were shot,” you whisper after a minute of silence. “And when you passed out I nearly lost my shit. I’m so glad you’re okay.” Tears begin to well again and you reach up to swipe at your eyes before any can fall.

Namjoon shifts to cradle your face in his hands, his own eyes shining as he meets your gaze. “I can’t leave you. I won’t, not ever. I love you.” The phrase has your breath catching as the tears fall anyway.

“I love you too.” Namjoon leans forward, his lips meeting yours halfway as you share a kiss that makes your heart race. You gasp when you pull away, ignoring how he quite literally, took your breath away in that moment.

Resting your foreheads together, you both smile. Despite your lack of a home, abysmal finances, and no thought out next plan, finally telling Namjoon how you’ve been feeling for him eases that burden off of your shoulders. Those unsaid words are replaced with warmth and relief at him feeling the same as you do.

The two of you stay this way for a little while longer until your grandma comes into the room. She checks Namjoon’s wounds and his vitals while telling you she has a few people who’d help you with a job while you stay with her. Namjoon attempts to butt in to ask more which she shuts down immediately, telling him the only thing he will be doing is resting until his wounds heal. Once that’s done, then he can entertain the idea of a job. He obeys, albeit hesitantly.

Your grandma goes to make lunch after helping Namjoon sit up enough on the couch to see the television. You sit on the floor directly in front of him, still feeling relief at how everything has turned out. You know you’ll still need to have a conversation with your mom about everything, but you’ll call her tomorrow maybe.

Unfortunately, your plan doesn’t go that way, when she barges into your grandma’s house while the three of you are eating, and watching tv, Sugar lounging in the middle of the floor.

She looks bewildered at the sight of all of you, but that turns into anger when she sees Namjoon, and then you. You set your bowl on the coffee table and leap up, shielding Namjoon from her glare.

“I didn’t believe Angela and Seokjin - I told them there was no way you’d do this. But you did. You’ve been messing around with a wolf, Y/n?!”

“Yeah, I have, and I’m not dead.”

“I can’t believe you kept this from me!”

“How could I tell you? You would’ve lost your shit and tried to forbid me. And I know you would’ve run and told Angela, who would’ve told the wolf force. But how could you know what’s going on - what’s truly going on - and not tell me or do anything about it?!”

“You don’t understand, Y/n. I’m your mother and it’s my job to protect you.”

“From what?! Because you were never protecting me from anything really except the truth that our entire town is fine with genocide! Do you know how evil that is?”

“That’s just the way it’s always been….” she frowns, her anger smoothing to something akin to sadness.

“That doesn’t make it right, and you know it! What the wolf force has done - what they’re doing now - is monstrous and disgusting.

“I…Y/n if you come back home, they’ll probably try and prosecute you. There’s no law for what you’ve done, but they’ll try and figure something out. I don’t know if Angela can do anything for you, or if she even will. She’s furious.”

“Then I’m not coming home. I refuse to be part of any community that is comfortable killing innocent people. And fuck Angela then! She always wanted to play the role of second mom but if this makes her cast me aside, so be it! And if you still support the wolf force, then I have nothing else to say to you.”

“Y/n…”

“I love Namjoon, and I’m not leaving him, nor am I letting him get hurt by anyone anymore. You can run and tell Angela and the Kims that if you want to.”

Unmistakable sadness and conflict are written on her face as she takes a step towards you, but you move away. She glances at your grandma, who shakes her head. You already know their relationship, even though they’ve worked to repair it, is still on thin ice when this topic comes up.

“I love you, Y/n.” Your mom says finally. You nod in response which seems to hit her hard as she gasps through what is very clearly a sob and turns on her heels to leave.

After she’s gone, no one speaks, and the only sound is the tv. You plop on the floor, shaking as you feel yet another crying spell coming. Namjoon wraps his arm around you, pulling you closer to him.

“Do you think she’ll really choose that town over me?” You choke out the question to your grandma, who has scooched over to hold your hand.

“I truly don’t know. Your mother is hard-headed and prideful - it’s why it took almost a year for her to speak to me again after I moved out. But, let’s hope she comes around to her senses sooner rather than later.” She kisses your hand before standing up to go to the bathroom.

After shedding tears over your mom, you finish eating and sleep on the floor in front of the couch to stay with Namjoon. You do that for the next few days until he’s feeling well enough to move to the guest bedroom to continue healing. You get a job at the grocery store working the cash register to start saving more to get you and Namjoon to the city, which is where you both decide you’ll be going.

It’s only a week after you and Namjoon fled when you’re coming back to your grandma’s after your shift, and you see your mom on her couch, crying into your grandma’s arms after a long-awaited, full reconciliation. When you come in, she bounds across the room, blubbering apologies about how foolish and wrong she was. She had let Angela and everyone around her convince her for her whole life that what was happening is normal and just the way things should operate, and she has been so wrong.

She wasn’t going to sacrifice her relationship with her daughter to keep accepting what’s happened, so broke up with Angela today. It was hard, and Angela was enraged that she was “turning her back” on her and the town; her behavior helped her make the decision easier. She kicked her out and has decided to find a new house close to your grandma. After more shared cries, you finally introduce her to Namjoon. It’s an awkward meeting, to say the least, but she makes an effort which you appreciate nonetheless.

As the weeks fly by, life almost feels as though it goes back to normal. Your mom sells your childhood home and moves everything in it into a smaller house around the corner from your grandma. You work as many shifts as you can, and your bank account seems more and more likely to be full enough for you and Namjoon to get a place in the city.

He seems to feel better as each new week hits and is eventually up and walking around your grandma’s house, and before you know it, he begins working at a cafe in town, doing his best to adapt to everyday life without having to hide who he is. Surprisingly, he acclimates rather quickly, falling into the swing of things.

Quicker than you would’ve expected, you and Namjoon have saved up enough to get your decent apartment in the city, and it’s been less than six months since your lives changed forever and almost a full year since you met Namjoon.

You’re packing the few things you’ve bought ahead of time into your mom’s car when you hear a ‘hi’ from behind you from a voice you had almost forgotten about.

Seokjin is standing behind you at the end of your grandma’s driveway, hands buried in his pockets. You blink at him a few times, but don’t make a move to walk towards him. For what it’s worth, even after everything, you did attempt to reach out to Seokjin, Chaerin, and Victoria.

Chaerin reached out first, texting you and berating you for the rumors she heard. When you confirmed them, she was furious and you both exchanged unkind words before you blocked her. Victoria on the other hand, blocked you before you even could text her.

You didn’t muster up the courage to reach out to Seokjin until a month after leaving, but you did try. You texted him, asking what was he even thinking about all of this. You never got a response, so you simply didn’t try again. There was no way he hadn’t read it or at least caught a glimpse that it was you, but it was clear he wouldn’t be responding, so you, in turn, wouldn’t be trying again. You were coming to terms with the fact that you’d never see him again and yet here he is.

“Are you leaving?” He gestures to the car, and you nod.

“Going into the city for good.”

“Oh.” He doesn’t say anything else so you sigh.

“Why are you here, Seokjin?”

“I…I don’t know actually. I just felt like I needed to talk to you.”

“It took you five months to just show up and see me? Is your phone broken because I seem to remember texting you and getting nothing in response?” You cross your arms after you finish speaking, watching him sputter a few times.

“Look, I know that I ignored your text. I just wasn’t ready to speak to you. I didn’t know what to say to you.”

“You weren’t ready to speak to me? I’m the one that should come over there and beat your ass!”

“What?! What the hell did I do?!”

“Your family has slaughtered people, Seokjin! And you didn’t believe me when I told you!”

“How was I supposed to believe you, Red?! My family fucking created the wolf force, that shit runs in my lineage!”

“Because why the fuck would I lie to you about something like this?!” Your screaming match has your mom, your grandma, and Namjoon coming out of the house, all of them bristling at the sight of Seokjin. Namjoon is at your side in a flash, noticeably on guard and ready to protect you from your ex-best friend.

“Of course, you’re going with him.” Seokjin sneers.

“Yeah, I am. He actually believes me when I tell him astronomical, literal life-threatening things.

“Oh, come on, Red, what do you want me to say? I’m sorry I didn’t believe you, okay? I’m sorry I was too jealous to properly listen to you tell me my family is nothing but a bunch of murderers. Is that what you want?”

“It’s a start. Apology acknowledged, so what are you doing to stop it?” You deadpan, watching him huff and cross his arms.

“What do you mean? They’re all gone now since you’re fucking the last of them, right?”

You frown, anger coursing through you. “Are you serious right now? Is nothing going to happen? Is no one going to acknowledge the atrocities your family has committed? Namjoon deserves some sort of apology, some compensation by someone, something!” Namjoon touches your arm, noticing how your annoyance shifted to anger, and now to rage.

“You and I both know none of that is happening. He’s alive, so be happy. Just don’t come back to town with him because I won’t be able to guarantee that to stay true.” The urge to go over and smack Seokjin nearly overcomes you, but Namjoon’s hand wrapping around yours and gripping helps ground you and keeps you next to him.

“Goodbye Seokjin.” You take a deep breath, steadying your breath before squeezing Namjoon’s hand back. You turn without another word, asking your mom if there’s anything you’ve left behind. She says no, and Seokjin watches as you say your goodbyes to your grandma, telling her you’ll see her soon and thanking her for taking you and Namjoon in.

He’s still there when you get into the car, Sugar in your lap. You lock eyes as your mom reverses and drives past him, onwards on the short drive to your new home, leaving everything and nearly everyone from your previous home, behind.

Life in the city isn’t as lonely as you were afraid it’d be. Other than Namjoon, you’ve got new friends now at your job as a receptionist at the local yoga studio and your classes at the community college have also given you new people to get to know and spend time with. You’re so busy with work and getting prepared to go back to vet school, that your new social and work lives do a good job of keeping you occupied while you cope with the loss of your past life.

Chaerin, Victoria, and the rest of your friends from home have seemed to easily forget you exist, which you have been able to mostly fare with. Seokjin has only attempted to reach out once, trying in a last-ditch effort to convince you to come back home. After you refuse once again, asking him, in turn, to understand why you’ve left, he still seems to believe what his family has done is somehow absolved. While it’s the hardest for you to settle with, you decide once and for all that your relationship is done.

Namjoon is so much more carefree after living a life where it’s safe for him to exist outside. His new job at the city plant nursery isn’t glamorous, but it lets him be around greenery and meet new people, which is more than he’s ever been able to do. Living - truly living - is much different than quickly running errands every few weeks, fearing for his life every time.

Tonight, Namjoon is still as newly optimistic as ever as he excitedly tells you that his boss may let him lead a bonsai clipping class soon, practically vibrating in his seat at the thought.

When you’re both finished eating dinner and he’s finished his story, he happily helps you clean up the table, Sugar begging for scraps at your feet the whole time.

“I still can’t believe it sometimes you know? Like, I’m out of the forest, I have friends, I’m building a life, and it’s all happening with the love of my life.”

“You’ve basically gone and got your happily ever after.” You giggle at your joke.

“Not yet. My real happily ever after will be after you say yes to being my mate for the rest of our lives.”

You jolt at the implication, dropping the plate in your hand into the sink. You turn to look at Namjoon, standing behind you holding a gold ring with a single diamond in it.

“Namjoon -”

“This isn’t the fanciest ring ever, but I promise I’ll get you a much better one once I can afford it. I’ll get you the better version of everything, so everything for you is perfect, just like you.”

It’s unexpected, a question you certainly didn’t see coming even in your dreams, but you have no hesitation in your heart. You practically leap into Namjoon’s arms, ‘yes’s’ tumbling from your mouth like a team chant.

“I love you so much,” you cry, peppering his jaw and neck in kisses.

“I love you too, Y/n. Thank you for truly giving me my happily ever after.” Namjoon says, his own eyes beginning to prick with tears. For both of you, a new chapter is only beginning as your old one, comes to an end.

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ninetailedfoxmanchi · 3 years

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Mafia! BTS! Yandere: How You Meet Them for the First Time

Warning: yandere, toxic relationship, trigger warning, abuse, domestic abuse, violence, explicit content etc.

Jin

You had just jumped off the bus and hurried on home. The day dragged on forever and you just wanted to hide away from everything. School, work, your family and your friends, everything was weighing down on you like a ton of bricks.

"Excuse me, I'm sorry," you apologised quickly as you bumped into a man's shoulder. It was your fault, you weren't paying attention one bit at what was going on around you.

The man stared at you motionlessly but didn't say anything. His hand reached for your face but you winced away, not sure what he was going to do.

"Shh, it's okay," said the man soothingly. You had no idea what made you freeze in place but you did. There were other men accompanying him but they all looked away and waited for him.

You had not even noticed but a tear slipped from your eye. A small proof of the anger and desperation that had been accumulating within you the entire day. The man wiped the tear away gently with his thumb.

Breath audibly caught in the back of your throat as you looked down and did not know what to do with yourself.

"What's your name, sweetheart?" the man asked you. You almost winced at his tone. An aura radiated off him that made you feel intimidated.

"I'm sorry," you apologized again and turned on your heel, almost running home. Little did you know that this was just the beginning.

Namjoon

You were reading the back cover of a one of the books in the local bookshop, picking out reading material for the summer. You scrunched your nose at the poor content description and returned the book on the shelf.

You noticed a book that you read twice over a few years ago. You grabbed it and flickered through the pages, remembering particular moments. It was Ryu Murakami's Almost Transparent Blue.

"It's a good book," said a deep voice beside you. You jumped, startled at the sudden interruption of your thoughts. You had to look up because the young man was much taller than you.

"I... I know," you managed to recover your words. "I've read it twice before."

"What do you think?" he asked you. Something about him gave off the energy of someone much older than him. A serenity radiated off him, like of someone who was completely in control. Not only of themself but of everything around them as well. You tried to deny it but he was intimidating.

"It's good. Intense but... but beautiful," you said and placed the book back. Blush crept to your cheeks and your palms turned cold. You cleared your throat as the stranger did not say anything, only stared at you as if you'd known each other since forever.

"Anyways, I should go," you mumbled and slipped past him. Within seconds you were out the door, breathing freely again. Yet you had no idea that you did not escape his gaze at all. You were never going to be free again.

Yoongi

You had been working part-time at a coffee shop on the side of school. It was far from your dream career but it helped you pay the bills. It was rush hour when he came again, the customer that you'd seen every single day from the time he first came in for an iced americano.

"Iced americano, right?" you asked when he took his turn at the counter. His eyes were not moving from you and he did not blink at all. You waited for him to confirm or deny but he only managed to nod, still deeply invested in his thoughts.

You rushed around and prepared his drink amongst many others.

"Hey, I've been waiting for my quarter non-fat, quarter 1%, extra hot vanilla latte for forever," said an unsatisfied customer. You turned around and asked him to please wait for a moment, but he went on about how you were slacking off. You were at the point of snapping at him, yet as you faced him with his ridiculous coffee in your hands, the customer that always ordered his iced americano turned to him.

He glared at the student with such ferocity that made even your own skin crawl with goosebumps. They were about the same height but the dissatisfied customer visibly cowered. You placed the coffee order on the counter.

"She's working hard," said the iced americano man quietly without breaking eye contact with the student. "You should leave a tip," he added as the younger man opened his wallet. He tried to pay you with a ten euro bill but the man defending you grabbed a fifty out of his wallet and placed it on the counter.

"You can go now," he said to the student who did not receive his change. His lips parted but a wince of eyebrows from the iced americano man, made him scram with fear. You didn't keep the change from the fifty bill and saved it for whenever you'd see the rude student again.

"Thank you," you said grateful nevertheless as you handed the customer his iced americano. His ink-black eyes pinpointed at you, squeezing the breath from your lungs.

"I'll see you soon," he spoke darkly and took his drink, leaving you a obscene tip. Little did you know he meant exactly what he said.

Hoseok

You were working a waitressing job with one of your friends at a benefit. It was a last minute need so they weren't picky about what kind of replacement they got. It just so turned out to be you. It was good money too which you desperately needed. Your mom struggled to support the family as your father drank away most everything that he earned.

You mostly helped with things that did not need you in front of the prestigious guests. You poured drinks to be handed out and made sure to pick up empty glasses and point out to those in need to be filled. Busy working, you hadn't noticed a pair of eyes lingering on you the entire evening. You felt uncomfortable as if someone was watching you, but you did not have the time to give it a second thought.

Hoseok on the other hand, while he mingled with businessmen and politics, he could not help but find you in the back of the hall. Your hair was in a beautiful ponytail, your gestures so gentle and yet precise. A look so sad and lonely resided on your face that it made his heart break. But what really caught his attention was your smile when a co-worker told you something funny about a guest. Your face lit up and your eyes sparkled, your teeth showing a beautiful smile.

You belonged to him from that very same moment.

Jimin

You ran away from home for the afternoon, not being able to stay there until everyone was asleep. Your heart was beating harshly as you finally made it to the park. You sat on one of the empty benches and buried your face in your hands to hide your tears.

A gasp escaped your lips as you looked up and saw someone sitting beside you. You jumped up, staring at the strange man. His eyes were already fixed on you when you noticed him. His gaze lingered on you, waiting for you to sit down but you were carved into stone, so he got up instead.

The truth was, he noticed you coming here almost every day. It just so happened that one of his offices had the view of the park and now, the view of you. You were always sad if not even crying and the look on your face always made Park Jimin's heart break.

"What's your name, kitten?" asked the man, gently tucking a stray lock of hair behind your ear.

"Y/N," you stuttered, looking up with him with big wide eyes.

"What happened to your cheek, Y/N?" he asked you softly.

"W-what?"

"There's a bruise under your make up," he nodded at your cheek. Your lips parted but nothing came out. You didn't even know what to say. Your silence made Jimin's eyebrows scrunch into a dark frown.

"Don't be sad, kitten," he said, glancing away for a moment, "I'll see you again soon enough."

You had no idea that soon enough would come far too quick.

Taehyung

You headed home late from the library one night, just before they closed it and asked you to go home. You dreaded going home because there was nothing but chaos and abuse waiting for you. Pulling down the sleeves of your sweater you slowed down your pace, although it was dark already.

Deep in your thoughts, you didn't look up until you heard a pair of footsteps behind you. You turned around carefully, although you knew already what was going on. Someone was following you. You picked up your pace but so did they. Once you broke out into a run, the person caught up to you before you could reach the well lit part of the city and caught you against the wall of one of the obscure bars. A slick black car waited at its door but no one was there.

The man that was trying to attack you was in his forties at least. Your body began to tremble out of fear as your gaze searched for any possible solution, for a way to escape. You tried to rush past him and make a run for it, but his arms went around your stomach and pulled you back.

"No, let go of me! Please, let go of me!" you cried, tears streaming down your cheeks as you screamed for help.

"Shut up!" the man threatened you and slammed you against the wall. He slapped your cheek to quieten you just as a dark figure emerged from the bar.

"Help... help me please," you mouthed to the man whose face you didn't see. He stopped and looked at the old guy. His head tilted to the side as he watched you tremble in front of your attacker. He turned away for a moment, then he unbuttoned his suit jacket and pulled something from his inner pocket. Before you could realize what had happened, a knife was stuck in your attacker's throat.

You gasped as he fell to the ground, his lifeless eyes turning to the back of his head. The stranger who saved you knelt down before you, his angelic face finally coming to light.

"It's okay, kitten," he said darkly and wiped the blood off your lip, "You're mine now."

Jungkook

"One large iced americano with extra ice," called the barista, making you look up from your phone at the sound of your order. You got up from the chair and tried to take your drink but a man beat you to it. It was already in his hands, the straw in his mouth as he turned around and wanted to walk away. He was tall and buff, the right opposite of you but you weren't intimidated.

"Excuse me," you said but he paid you no mind and kept on walking. "Excuse me, sorry," you said again and gently tapped his shoulder. Your touch made him stop on his tracks. He could not even remember when was the last time someone touched him without being in a fight.

He turned around and looked down on you. He was amused; it was like a kitten trying to talk to a wolf.

"Um, sorry, but you... you took my drink," you found yourself nearly stuttering as he stared into your eyes. Goosebumps rose on your arms and you gulped, noticing the cup was already half empty.

"Nevermind," you frowned sadly and turned around as you headed back to the counter to buy yourself another coffee. Jungkook's gaze pierced your back as he took in your outfit from head to toe. He licked his lips and looked away, finding himself contemplating.

You opened your wallet to take out the money but the man placed his own money on the counter. You looked up at him, flinching slightly at his sudden presence.

"Don't be scared, kitten," he said seriously, his eyes finding yours. Shivers ran down your spine as your lips parted. A part of you knew things were never going to be the same again.

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sweetbunnykook · 3 years

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Only You (10)

Word Count: 11,267 // [SPOILER IN WARNINGS] angst (mention of double homicide, gore/blood, miscarriage, mistreatment of a corpse, panic attack, meltdown, blackmail, gun, abuse), toxic relationship, manipulation

Photographer!Jungkook X Noona!Reader

Summary: Jeon Jungkook, your wedding photographer, helps you escape on your big day upon learning about a secret your groom-to-be kept hidden. You soon fall for this young, passionate photographer. However, you underestimated just how much he was willing to reciprocate that love. Maybe, you think, he’s loving you just a little too much.

A/N: Thank you for waiting so long! Please let me know if you enjoyed this chapter if you want to. Enjoy! - 🐰

The distant sound of television in your living room.

‘We bring breaking news…Kim Namjoon, the heir of…yesterday morning…in questioning…accessory of the crime…kidnapping and killing of pregnant fiancée…found motive…’

The splatter of blood on his skin, the taste of blood on your tongue. Your whole world melts into a puddle of red. You feel him inside you, around your throat, his grip tightening, his kisses searing against your lips to pin your tongue underneath his.

A whisper against your ear.

‘You’ve made me the happiest man in the world, noona.’

You wake up with a start, gasping for air as you reach over to where Jungkook should be only to be met with a gray rabbit plushie. It has been a week since the night your life changed. Whether for the best or the worse, you can’t tell just yet. You rub a hand over your stomach where you’re cramping, taking deep breaths through your nose and exhaling through your lips to calm the panic of hearing and seeing red in your dreams once more. The brain is a relentless organ. No matter how much you force yourself to forget, to justify the past, to let your anger roam free, your dreams follow you as soon as your body succumbs to exhaustion.

Jungkook gifted you a bottle of melatonin for such nights but it was rather hard to sleep when every thought goes back to the sound of Yori’s lifeless body swallowed by the rustle of a black plastic trash bag. It’s a stark dichotomy from the images you have of her in her soft chiffon dresses, bleached hair swaying in the wind, her lithe frame moving effortlessly between the trees in your family garden. To think that you would lose her in such a way is unfathomable even when there is a sick, hideous part of you that felt almost relieved that you’re alone at last. Her existence only served as a reminder of your humiliation.

It’s why you’d spent so many weeks and months back then cursing her – hoping she miscarry during your most vulnerable nights, hoping Namjoon would leave her for another woman so she gets a taste of how you’ve suffered; yet when the day comes when she’s truly gone, your heart and mind is restless.

As your stomach settles, the residual guilt rising like bile up your throat gives you a newfound reason to tell yourself you’re still very much a good person. You’re still the woman Jungkook loves for your understanding and hardworking spirit. Partly feeling guilt towards her death meant you still loved her in your true, good nature – or at least you love the memory of what she used to mean to you. The girl you remembered – the girl who would make crowns for you with wildflowers, paint your sleeping form, talk about all the men she wrapped around her fingers – was long gone before you found her lying at the end of a staircase. Your mother can’t kill someone who was already dead in your eyes.

The body your boyfriend stuffed in his freezer didn’t deserve your kindness nor repentance. It’s why you were able to waltz right into work the next morning from Jungkook’s studio, drinking the same cup of coffee at your desk, working the same files, and mentoring interns with a smile albeit the sudden panic episodes had caused you to empty your stomach after each meal.

You’ve run out of fingernails to bite. You’d expected the world to crumble and fall at your feet in the following days but everything feels oddly normal. The sun still rose. Flowers still bloomed. And Jungkook still loved you.

Sitting at the edge of the bed, the thin sheen of sweat on your body makes the valley down your spine tingle, prompting you to reach back to scratch your skin raw. When you look over at the nightstand, the red digital numbers on your clock glare into your irises through the sleep haze – it’s barely two o’clock in the morning. With a groan, you stretch an arm towards the floor and pull Jungkook’s shirt towards your feet before bringing it to your chest. The half-buttoned cotton still smells like him. Like comfort.

When you slip the black long-sleeved shirt over your head and roll it down your body, buttoning up to cover your chest, you’re struck with the realization that tonight is the night Jungkook must finish the job. He hasn’t left your side since the accident, treating you with the utmost care, his prying eyes following your every move to the point you ended up pressing your lips against his each and every time just to cease his worries. His fingers melt like butter on your skin when he cups your jaw in search of any anxieties you might have hidden from him. It’s evident that he’s in awe and in confusion at your strength. Maybe he thought too highly of your capacity for forgiveness; like the loud saccharine-faced women you work with, you’re just a tantalizing red apple infested with rot beneath.

And it’s with that very same façade you faced the detectives.

The police came knocking at your door two days ago. Jungkook promptly informs you that there was nothing you need to worry about for now except keeping your composure.

The two men explained the situation – a vague description about Yori’s disappearance, suspicion with Namjoon’s prolonged stay abroad, and odd evidence that she may be kidnapped or blackmailed – just as Jungkook predicted. You feigned passive concern as they took your statement about the last time you saw your former friend, inquired about the wedding incident, and noted the places she could be from your childhood memories. You answered every question with the calmness of an experienced storyteller, comforted when Jungkook confirmed your alibi with his hand wrapped around your fingers to keep you grounded when you trembled. A few angelic tears you shed hearing about Yori softened the mens’ heart although they didn’t have a single inkling of a different kind of fear buried inside you now that there is an investigation ongoing.

There was something about the glimmer of their handcuffs that made you fear for Jungkook playing the role of the clueless but supportive boyfriend like a seasoned actor. The thought of the men pinning your boyfriend on the ground and ripping him away from you had you hurling digested dinner over the toilet shortly after they left. Your tears must have done much of the heavy lifting during the interrogation that even Jungkook had asked if you were feeling alright, thumbs rubbing back and forth over your cold, wet cheeks.

You can’t live without him and if he were to be taken away from you, you wouldn’t know what to do. You’ve learned to fear his absence more than his capability for murder. Such thoughts threaten to cut the last strings of sanity holding you together.

Despite Jungkook being there for you every step of the way, he was powerless when it comes to protecting you from the stench of office gossip that you must endure for the sake of calming suspicions about your outside activities. It was obvious what your coworkers thought of you as soon as the news came flooding about Yori’s sudden disappearance. Whether you feign concern or not, there have already been rumors about a sabotaged pregnancy. Their fake kindness and whispers gave you the freedom to look as disastrous as you feel.

If only they knew that the true reasons for your sunken eyes and weight loss are far, far beyond their comprehension. If only they knew you were on your hands and knees scrubbing bodily fluids; the longer their mouths yapped, the more you thought about the red on your fingertips, how satisfying it felt to watch it spiral down the drain.

The first week was grueling but the second week – this week – when the voices of the two detectives, blood-filled memories, and buried dreams resurface, you’re completely cornered. Oh, how much you crave Jungkook’s touch, his gentleness, his ability to read your mind and body even more now that he’s gone to settle your debts.

You take your cellphone resting on the nightstand next to the digital clock, place the rabbit plushie under your arm, and make your way out of the bedroom. The condo is dead silent except for the muffled cracklings of vehicles running over pebbles on the highway nearby. It’s awfully cold but the sight of the fridge makes you clench your jaw and turn towards the couch, sliding onto the padded surface when another pang of panic hits your stomach, leaving you to press your abdomen inwards with the heel of your palm. You grab your laptop from the dirty coffee table with your free hand and place it on your lap, cursing once more when your nerves refuse to ignore the coolness of the aluminum surface. You squeeze the soft fur ears of the plushie, but it doesn’t feel the same as holding onto your boyfriend’s fingers in times of need.

It’s cold in the room, you note once more, but Yori’s body curled in Jungkook’s freezer is even colder.

Would he let her thaw before burying her? Would he burn her somewhere in the woods? Dump her in a lake? Would he admire her beauty first and brush his fingers down her cold cheeks, feeling pitiful about the woman who humiliated you just because she was carrying a child?

You shake your head, watching the laptop come to life. You need a distraction. Any kind of distraction to forget that your boyfriend and Yori might be alone in a room right now as if they’re on a little date.

The cramp twisting your innards isn’t caused by panic this time. It’s jealousy.

…

Taehyung is exhausted to the marrow of his bones. If he didn’t consider Jungkook to be his only family left, he would never have flown to South Korea on such short notice. It’s expensive to leave clients on hold when he’s spending a fortune every month lining bribery pockets. He hopes Jungkook is prepared to work without pay for the next month. Judging by how eager the younger man is to see him, he decided to cut him some slack in the end. That’s what families do.

Right now, Taehyung is only annoyed to find out that his partner – who had already left the refrigerated room – brought his least favorite pliers when he asked her to lay the tools on the table next to the body. The pliers are black but coppered with rust and prone to slips with its slippery silicone padding resting where his gloved fingers would go. He doesn’t even know when or how he came across such an awful tool but he’ll have to make do.

He turns back to Jungkook who is sitting on a plastic-covered stool across him on the other side of the body, brows scrunched together as he looks down at the nude woman’s slightly protruding but stiff stomach. There’s no sense of discomfort on his face; a good sign, Taehyung notes, as it has been some time since Jungkook has dealt with a body. Yet he finds himself uncomfortable when looking down at the vicious woman he’d heard an earful about. It’s not a good omen to cut open a pregnant woman, not when Jungkook has been preparing for parenthood ever since he dumped your birth control down the toilet.

“Are you sure it’s wise to leave her alone?”

Jungkook scratches behind his ears, watching Taehyung’s fingers pry open Yori’s frozen mouth to reach her teeth. The older man places a balled cloth inside the mouth before lining the plier towards the molars, gripping the frozen teeth between the iron clamps before yanking the tool to one side. The tooth pops out with a crisp snap, leaving a deep black hole in Yori’s pale gums. Freezing her made cleaning extremely easy – Taehyung can’t help but pat himself in the back when Jungkook seemed to remember all that he’s taught him about the work. He is, however, a bit disgusted that the body was kept in the same fridge as food. Hell, even an experienced butcher like himself has some decency not to do such a thing.

“I think it’s fine,” Jungkook murmurs, watching Taehyung’s sturdy hands yank each tooth out of her gums with razor-sharp precision. “She’s been sleeping better than the first week so I don’t think she’ll be awake by the time I get back.”

“She’s not like us,” Taehyung scolds, his baritone voice low. A puff of smoke dissipates in the cool air as he speaks. The younger man lowers his head; there should be a limit to the favors he ask for and he’d crossed professional boundaries one too many times. “It’s a big risk you’re taking.”

Jungkook juts his lower lip out like a child filled with remorse. “I know, hyung. But...I trust her and she trusts me. Or else we wouldn’t have gotten this far.”

Taehyung hums at that, finding it rather odd that a girl with a fine upbringing had the guts to do cleaning work (poorly as expected, according to Jimin showing up with the rest of his crew to spot-clean the rest).

“Trust can be an expensive thing, Jungkook.”

Desperate to appease the older man, Jungkook snaps his gloves in place and reaches over to take an electric saw in his hand, watching the silver glimmer under the lights before standing. He waits until Taehyung finishes the removal, placing the teeth neatly in a plastic cup, before lining the blades to Yori’s pale neck and quickly sawing down her esophagus. The saw groans as it hits her spine but with Taehyung’s palms pushing the saw down further, Yori’s head comes apart clean from the rest of her torso. Under the sharp blue lights her insides look tar black. Such a pretty exterior holding such ugliness inside of her, Jungkook thinks, before he shakes the thought away.

Her beauty can never be compared to you. You’re a goddess. And her? A mere insect to put back into the earth. Yori had caused you immense pain and he would see to it that she will be treated with utmost disrespect.

“What’s your plan after this?”

Jungkook moves the woman’s hair away from her face then removes the cloth from inside her mouth. He then pushes her jaw up to cover her black gums.

“I’m going to try to convince her to leave work for a while. Hopefully...she’ll be pregnant by then and it’ll make it easier for her to marry me.”

Taehyung nods. “Then?”

“T-Then…” Jungkook nibbles on his lower lip. Something about Taehyung’s gaze makes his insides queasy and he doesn’t know whether it’s because the older man is upset or just exhausted. With a poker face like his, with eyes that sink deeper than an eternal labyrinth, it’s difficult to tell. He settles on the most comfortable answer. “Then we’ll live like a normal family. Maybe after she gives birth we can buy a house instead and live near the sea like we used to.”

It’s not a definite answer, but it will do for now. When you regain confidence that life will continue on as it always had, it should be smooth sailing from there. Namjoon or Jin have been a threat but once the baby comes they’ll know better than to approach you again.

Taehyung’s assistant comes back into the room with a soft smile. She glances down at the decapitated woman briefly before walking towards the incinerator in the far corner. Like clockwork she appears once there is a twenty minute time limit before the room reverts back to a comfortable temperature. Jungkook’s freezer preserved the body enough that they can pull apart Yori’s limbs and burn each piece separately; the burning will be handled by her but dismemberment is intimate, a family bonding type of activity that re-establishes their brotherhood.

“Are you happy you’ll have a family soon? Does it bring you joy?”

The younger man nods, lips trembling softly as he looks down at the severed head. His cold breath fans over Yori’s eyelids. “Yes, I am. Very. It’s all I ever wanted. ”

Taehyung stares. From the scar on the left cheek to the mole under his lips, he watches Jungkook as the younger man saws through the arms, letting the frozen limbs fall to the plastic-covered floor with a rustle and blunt thud. Once all four limbs are torn apart on the floor, he lines the saw down the navel just above the slight hill of Yori’s protruding belly. Just as he moves to switch on the saw, Taehyung grips his wrist with a tightness that alarms Jungkook.

They look at each other, truly look at each other in the darkness.

“Will you ever tell her the truth?”

Jungkook jaw tightens as he holds the older man’s gaze. His fingers are going numb, not from the cold but from the grip around his wrist.

The question causes him to chuckle incredulously. One small step and everything can fall apart like a house of cards. The risk he is taking burning someone closely associated with you can pull them both back into the times when they lived like rodents; hidden from light, at risk of being poisoned every step of the way out from the ground.

When Taehyung doesn’t mirror him, he falters. “…What use will it be if we tell her? She doesn’t have to know anything about me.”

“Is it because you’re afraid she’ll be hurt or afraid she might leave if you do?”

The reaction is immediate. Jungkook’s brows come together and he lays the saw on top of the torso, releasing a harsh exhale as he desperately pushes back tears. Taehyung expected the reaction; it’s what he was aiming for in the first place. The minute he walked in the room and saw Jungkook smiling happily in the distance he knew the boy has taken his delusions too far. He’s willing to oblige with the many ridiculous requests in helping him secure you as a wife, but he’s not a hopeless romantic. He doesn’t believe in soulmates and pure, perfect love that Jungkook pines for. There is only so much luck Jungkook can depend on before you stumble upon something you shouldn’t have. With a criminal bond, the stakes have never been higher.

The boy takes his bottom lip under his teeth. “She won’t leave me.”

“Answer the question.”

“She loves me, okay? That’s all I need.”

He peels his arm away from Taehyung and brings both hands behind his head, burying his face in between the elbows. He turns away towards the concrete wall, his temples pounding from how hard his teeth are clenched. Couldn’t Taehyung just be happy for him? Couldn’t he take time away to celebrate this victorious night?

The reality is that two people who love each other may still never truly know each other. Just like how he doesn’t know the true reason why you wanted him as you watch him from the balcony in silence all those months ago, you won’t know why he can’t tell you everything about his upbringing. There’s no doubt that you would see his lies as betrayal, perhaps even worse than what Yori did because he made you believe he worshipped the ground you walked on (and it’s the truth). If you learned that the doe-eyed boyfriend part of him is dramatized, your heart will take irreversible damage. He had shown what it meant to be in love, to have a place where you both can call home, to care for each other through sickness and crime. He can’t ruin that illusion. Not when he’s this close to taking you away from everyone you’ve ever known.

“The fire is ready.”

He brings his arms back down to his sides and turn towards the assistant who stands with her hands clasped in front of her as she looks between him and Taehyung.

When neither of them move, she kicks opens the incinerator and releases a waft of hot air towards the thawing body. Jungkook turns back to the body and kick the limbs towards the fire. He grabs Yori’s head by the hair and tosses it towards the limbs, wondering if you would still love him if you saw him now in a grimy lab coat, reeking of frozen flesh. You most likely won’t. You most likely will be disgusted with him, your eyes might resemble his mother’s, peering at him as if you couldn’t waste one more second breathing the same air as him.

“I’m scared,” he whispers at last, walking towards the torso on the table. He places his hand over the blood-stained stomach. The baby didn’t deserve this death, he thinks, but it would have ended up as miserable as he was when he was a child.

“I don’t know how not to be scared. That’s why I…I’m doing all of this for her. It’s why I still can’t tell her everything even if we’re tied together now. But…but I’m…we’re still men, right? We’re not monsters who do this for fun. We do this to protect the people we love.”

The older man puts his hand over Jungkook’s on the cold stomach and rubs his thumb over his knuckles. The younger man relaxes a bit more now that he understands Taehyung isn’t frustrated or upset that he put them all in danger, only concerned.

Taehyung’s life’s purpose has been to protect this boy and now it’s Jungkook’s turn to protect the woman he’d fallen for. It’s all the more cruel that the woman Jungkook believes to be his soulmate came from wealth, from prestige, from a family that may be dysfunctional but more often than not normal. It pains him that he’s willing to live the rest of his life under a façade just to keep the illusion of a perfect romance alive. If only Taehyung could have convinced him that the beautiful couples in movies aren’t real, that the men in those movies are not like them and the women in those movies are not perfect little angels he think you are.

But that’s a battle Jungkook has chosen to fight and he could do nothing but support. That’s what families do.

“We’re not monsters,” Taehyung finally speaks at last as he walks towards the limbs and crouches down to the open incinerator. He brushes his long fingers along the metal edge, letting the tips of his fingers burn pink. His deep brown eyes reflect the orange hue of the fire yet his pupils welcomed no light. “But we’re damn close.”

…

Your skin prickles with goosebumps as you gulp down the remaining ice cold water from the fridge, laying your forehead on the door handle. It’s unbearably hot and cold at once and you’re growing impatient as the minutes tick by and you’re still alone.

It doesn’t take long to bury a body, does it? Jungkook never specified what he was going to do. Maybe the reason why it’s taking too long is because he’s driving far into the woods but your heart pangs in worry at the thought of a witness catching sight of him hunched over with a shovel. He seemed confident when he left (in your sleepy haze you don’t remember clearly) that the thought went away as quickly as it came. Your boyfriend can be meticulous; there’s a high chance that he’s taking extra precautions. He probably isn’t calling because he assumes you’re still asleep. He’d tucked you in and kissed you on the forehead, only murmuring something about being back soon and bringing back breakfast.

You set the glass down in the sink and walk past the kitchen counter, halting in your steps when you find your purse laying haphazardly next to the fruit basket. It’s been there since the police came and the contents of your wallet and keys threaten to tip over into the basket. You pull the undone zipper apart, rummaging around the inside to straighten the sides until your nails click against the uncapped flash drive. It makes your insides quiver when you realize you had been opening the files when your mother called during that day and the world crumbled. Oh how blissful you would be standing here if you never picked up the call, if you let her deal with her own problems, if the guilt of her being alone and scared didn’t affect your tender heart. The worry that Seokjin had written a love letter seemed rather insignificant now that your boyfriend can be taken away in cuffs if evidence surfaces. The tabloids would have another field day for sure.

You turn towards the digital clock on the stove, noting the time once more, and grasp the flash drive in your hands before making your way towards the living room. The flash drive blinks green as you slide the silver end into your computer propped on the coffee table. The laptop will keep you sane because you know damn well if you see Namjoon’s face on the television once more you’d spiral into panic. It’s not wise to speak of his name under your roof.

It’s not wise to speak of Seokjin’s name either, but if Jungkook isn’t coming anytime soon, the least you can do is read what your old friend has to say and be rid of this little tool in case your boyfriend’s curiosity leads to a temper tantrum.

Once again, the document window reveals a ZIP folder along with an array of photo files. You extract the file first, letting it load before double clicking to pull up the document window. It’s not what you’re expecting. There’s no sweet words and no mention of Seokjin’s name on the page. The document is over two hundred pages long and still loading as you scroll down the pages. There is a case number in the middle of the first page and then several police reports from several years ago, all dated within the same year.

Busan.

Two victims.

Two suspects.

Juvenile.

With your brows furrowed, you scroll further down the file, slowly falling back down to earth from the blanket of mental exhaustion. You feel a cold breeze down the curve of your spine, your fingertips slowly coaxing the cursor downwards. Several sentences are censored or cut in the corners. The further you scroll the more you find yourself asking if Seokjin had given you the wrong flash drive or if he was pulling a vicious prank on you. It all seemed like a whirlwind of information you don’t know how to translate until you pause on a page halfway through the document.

Kim Taehyung.

The name is most definitely familiar. The second name listed in the following page, however, you recognize in entirety.

Jeon Jungkook.

The universe must be playing a sick joke, you think, as your cursor swims around your boyfriend’s name. He would have told you about an incident big enough for a case report that spans over a hundred pages, wouldn’t he? Jungkook wouldn’t hide anything important from you, not after he had urged you to be transparent with him. Not after he had punished you for something as silly as keeping jewelry gifted by or ex or forgetting to wear a brassiere in public. Something in your gut tells you to keep scrolling despite your vision beginning to blur and the air around you becoming heavier as if you’re breathing over a pot of boiling water.

You scroll further down, lips parting as your eyes scan over the document with record speed. The Jeon family massacre, the shack in Busan, the weapons used on the bodies for both murder and disposal – everything is written in clear detail. But it’s impossible, you think, as Jungkook has never once hinted that his parents were deceased. In fact, there were several times when he welcomed the idea of you meeting his family. He wouldn’t have agreed with enthusiasm if he had to reveal the details of this case, would he?

He wouldn’t have his mother’s number saved. It doesn’t make sense and the more you wonder who that woman could be in his cell phone, the more your insides twist.

When you hit the last hundred pages the censorship worsened. Most of the pages are illegible with black boxes shadowing over sentences but you don’t need the missing sentences. The last five pages summarized the timeline of the incident and highlighted possible motives from abuse to undiagnosed mental disorders for both Jungkook and Taehyung. You’re not sure if the file is even reliable considering what you’re reading and the boyfriend you’re living with seem like two different people.

There is hardly any record about the two of them except the elementary, middle, and high school they’ve attended. The paragraphs blur together as you scroll with trembling fingers. Something about Jungkook’s instability, his codependency on Kim Taehyung, the manner in which he was released shortly after Taehyung’s escape from the facility despite facing juvenile charges for second degree murder.

Then, the details of the crime.

Jungkook couldn’t do something like that, could he? Your lungs ache as you pant, a sudden sob leading you to clasp a shaky hand over your mouth. There is no reason for you to claim this case as unreliable when Jungkook is disposing Yori’s body somewhere within the twenty mile radius. There is no reason this case is talking about another Jeon when the first thought your boyfriend had when you confessed your mother’s accident was to help with the cleaning.

This couldn’t be anyone else but Jeon Jungkook, the boyfriend who kisses you until you melt like butter in his arms and pouts whenever someone looks at you the wrong way. Despite the file in front of you, you shake your head.

“It’s not him…it can’t be him.”

Closing the file window, you take a deep breath before opening the image file next to the folder. The first few photos were of the crime scene and your blood turns cold at the disfigured corpses in the room. The room is dirty with peeling wallpaper, blood splatter, broken furniture, and schoolbooks and papers. The couple in the picture is your boyfriend’s parents, there’s no doubt about it. You can see the resemblance in what remains of his father’s face and you wonder if that’s the reason why he never felt comfortable in his skin, as he once told you during pillowtalk.

With your core tightened, bracing for the worst, you open the last image. There is Jungkook, in the flesh, pictured with a uniform and handcuffs, eyes blacker than your morning coffee. His face is littered with bruises and the corner of his lips are swollen, caked with dried blood. The purple and green bruises stretch over his eye socket, reaching far back to his temples where his hair falls. Somehow the fact that his mother had abused him didn’t register in your mind until now. It feels somewhat far away, like a distant memory that has no effect on the person he is now. But Jungkook didn’t become the sensitive and hardworking man you know now because of sheer willpower; he was forced into the role.

He did what he had to do to survive and you know deep in your heart you can’t hate him for it. You can’t justify murder, but you can’t ignore that he was desperate to leave.

You place a trembling hand over your heart and lean back into the couch.

Either way you look at it, one thing remains true. Jeon Jungkook had spun lies upon lies to be in your life. He had successfully kept you in the dark, hardly ever showing how truly dangerous he can be until the time is right. His anger has been, at times, loving and sweet. Other times, it spurred fear. He had promised you time and time again he would never hurt you. Yet, that promise holds no substance when he doesn’t practice his own standards for loyalty and truthfulness that he instilled in you.

There’s the Jungkook from Busan who showed no remorse for what he did and there’s the Jungkook who held your heels in his hands as he led you to safety from that fateful wedding night. Burying your head in your hands, you fist the roots of your hair until your scalp burned.

You’ve been sleeping with a stranger.

…

The precinct is a large, block building next to the subway station that would be invisible if it were not for the newly painted gray-blue gates set around the perimeter of the building. There is a group of photographers huddled against the gates despite the very late hours of the night, sporting the same black padded coats as they tumble over each other like penguins. When Namjoon steps out of the building and into the Mercedes parked in front of the building, the camera shutters click. Reporters shouts his name for a statement. He merely glances at the crowd before stepping into the vehicle, adjusting his coat before slamming the door shut.

The crowd of reporters part as the vehicle makes its way down the concrete path to the streets. There are no officers in sight to control the crowd, prompting him to watch in silence as they knock on the tinted glass and the side of the car. His chauffeur would seem unbothered if not for the whiteness of his knuckles as he grips the steering wheel, stepping on the gas with urgency while being careful to not anger the hungry journalists desperate for next morning’s cover story.

He can understand Lee’s anxiety as they drive towards one of his apartments in the city with higher security. He has been in a state of paralysis ever since he landed and was immediately brought into questioning. The handcuffs at the airport wasn’t necessary, he thinks, and he’s convinced some of these cops must be journalists in disguise, blaming him for a crime he had no knowledge of. Aside from such inconveniencies, there are other problems to address such as the dent in his parents’ pocket to keep the media from prying too much into the investigation. He’d faced his father’s wrath earlier before his first shot of whiskey, and then his mother’s who cried on his shoulder as she was too relieved to see him walking freely. He doesn’t understand why people are surprised that he isn’t the culprit when there is so little evidence against him. The precinct wanted to make an example out of him, about how the rich aren’t safe from persecution; however, they fail to consider that the rich aren’t always guilty with whatever they are accused of either. It’s been an exhausting last few weeks to face the same mob of cameras before, during, and after the questioning. They must know by now that Yori’s disappearance was as surprising to him as it is for everyone else.

There is no end to the investigation – especially when they are set on finding evidence that it was premeditated - and his exhaustion reached its peak this morning when he realizes today was the day the baby is due. Yori wasn’t fond of motherhood – unbeknownst to outsiders who only saw her poised nature – and neither was he. But he had made an oath that he would be there for the child at least financially if not emotionally and would provide the necessities while he legalize their marriage and transfer abroad for work. He swore to not touch a single drop of alcohol when the first cry of his child reaches his ears yet here he is, pouring himself a drink from the mini fridge assembled between the seats.

“Where do you think she is?” He asks, then takes a shot of straight vodka. This was one of many times he despised how poised he can be when the situation is dire. His lawyers had advised him to be emotional, but he can’t bring himself to put on an award-winning act when he’s one sleepless night away from a coma.

The older man glances at the rearview mirror, lips setting in a thin line as he eyes the bottle in Namjoon’s hand.

“I’m unsure, sir. The police and your father has been searching in all of the places she could possibly be. I’m sure they will find her soon.”

“Dead or alive?”

The car jolts to a stop at the red light. “Sir?”

“It’s been a week. She hasn’t called, there’s no activity from her bank account, no money taken from the house, and no report of her fleeing the country. She left her belongings behind, including her cellphone and a coat during this weather. The investigation is only ongoing because there’s data from security that she let someone in at night and the back gates were open. The surveillance in the main roads nearby didn’t pick up any suspicious cars either. Now tell me…do you think she’s dead or alive?”

Lee presses on the gas pedal and sighs, staring straight ahead at the roads but unable to focus on any of the signs.

“I don’t think I can answer that question, sir. Please forgive me.”

Namjoon takes another shot and turns his head towards the cars passing by him. There was no money taken, which concludes that the culprit’s motive had nothing to do with financial gain. It must be the reason why he’s under suspicion.

“Perhaps…” Lee speaks again, his careful eyes meeting Namjoon’s apathetic ones through the rearview mirror. “Perhaps _____ might be able to help with finding Miss Kim. She was very close to her. Maybe she knows a few locations we’ve missed.”

He considers the offer for a moment, knowing that the detectives had reached out to you for more information at the same time of his questioning. It’s true you were Yori’s closest friend for most of your life. Until last year, you talked to her on the phone several times a week and shared a meal with her at least once a week in your former apartment. You invited her to all social events and dressed, shopped, and spent quality time together. It would be a wise choice to call you in such a catastrophic time. He does, however, understand that you would be reluctant to involve yourself in the investigation for you had started a new life with this new boyfriend of yours and had distanced yourself from even Seokjin himself. Not even your mother knew about what you were up to on most days.

Nonetheless, the situation is too severe to preserve his own pride as well as yours. Yori is with child and there’s still a morsel of a chance that she – and the baby – is safe. You may have changed in the last several months, but if there was one thing he’s still sure about you, it’s your willingness to set aside differences to help others.

He hopes you would take the call once he musters the courage to dial your number. Maybe he’ll call Seokjin instead if he has a change of heart.

“I’ll consider it.” Namjoon nods as Lee nods back, slightly relieved.

For the second time in his life, Namjoon is terrified of losing someone close. He had watched you, white chiffon and silk in your hand, as you ran out of the lobby and his life forever. He hoped that he can do right and bring Yori and his child back to safety and make sure – this time – to cherish what he has rather than what he’d lost.

Knocking the last shot of vodka, he leans his head back against the plush leather upholstery and closes his eyes, hoping more than anything to be taken out of his misery.

…

They say a woman’s intuition doesn’t lie.

You’re thankful that it’s too late in the night and too early in the morning for your neighbors to hear the ding of the elevator as you make your way down the building. You didn’t bother dressing, merely grabbing your purse with the flashdrive tucked safely in one of its compartments on the way out. You’re still wearing Jungkook’s shirt as a dress and you slid into the first pair of sandals you can find through the burning tears. You’re not sure how you’re supposed to feel in the haze of betrayal but there’s a sense of humiliation that comes with finding out you were lied to – perhaps laughed at behind your back – for months. It’s the same feeling as that wedding night, but a million times worse now that you’ve reached the end of no return.

Even if you call Seokjin and urge him to help, there’s nothing you can do to change that you’re an accomplice. There’s nothing you can do to change that a sick part of you enjoyed scrubbing blood off the floors, fucking your dirtied boyfriend afterwards, and pretending life will continue as normal.

Furthermore, there’s nothing you can do to change that you’re still utterly in love with Jungkook.

It can’t all be a lie, can it? The reason why he chased after you, jumped over fences to bury his nose in your intimates, and carve your skin isn’t because he’s using you, right? There’s only so much pretending a person can do. Deep in your heart, you feel that Jungkook does really love you. You wouldn’t feel this safe with him, even after knowing he had done something irreversible in his childhood, if his tenderness towards you isn’t genuine.

Yet, you’re also acutely aware of how much money your family has. You know how many valuable assets you have under your name after your father’s passing. You know how easily you can change your life at any given moment if you choose to meet your mother’s expectations in marrying into a conglomerate family and living without worrying about money. The reason why Jungkook helped you during that wedding night can be because he had the opportunity to be with someone who can offer him financial security he didn’t have growing up. Maybe he was attracted to how easygoing your life is, only having to worry about which restaurant you want to pick for date night, unlike his formative years surviving on scraps.

You’re also pathetic, desperate, unloved. It was too easy for Jungkook to charm his way into your life in a moment of vulnerability. He must’ve known you came from money just by the size of the venue and how much you offered to pay him for his photography services. He must’ve known how naïve you were when you were willing to sleep in his arms that night, how willingly you swallowed the painkiller he gave you.

Even then, it doesn’t make sense. He owned a studio. He bought you gifts and took offense when you denied his offer to help pay for things only married couples do. He gifted you flowers every week and take you out to beautiful places when you were sad, never thinking twice about putting down his last dime if that’s what it took to see you smile. He’s patient and empathetic. He’s kind because he understands the pain of being hurt by the ones you love but he can also be kind because staying with you is convenient.

And you don’t want to be the convenient woman. Not anymore.

…

Jungkook’s phone vibrates in the back of his pocket, prompting him to remove his gloves and throw them in the fire with the rest of the corpse. The assistant is asleep on the couch, unaccustomed to night cleaning when Taehyung keeps her in charge during the day. Taehyung, on the other hand, slides his sanitized tools back in the slouchy leather bag, turning his head towards the fire when the alcohol from Jungkook’s gloves reawaken the fire for a moment.

Jungkook reaches behind him and fishes the phone from his pocket to see the notification from a security sensor. His stomach drops when the notification loads, the buffering swirl of the loading screen feeling eerily similar to the swirling aches in his stomach. He’s relieved that there are no police cars in front of the garage, but the relief is short lived as his eyes land on your car instead, the door to the driver’s seat left open.

He quickly switches to the cameras from the inside, pointed directly at the front door to see a figure walking through. He watches as you stumble inside, falling on your hands and knees as you tumble into the boxes of books and accessories he kept near the front steps. He haven’t had the chance to throw them back in the garage when Jimin and his team took away the freezer and left behind a mess.

“What’s wrong?” Taehyung comes next to him, peering down at the phone. He watches in silence as Jungkook’s hand trembles.

He watches you grab onto the nearest table and pull yourself up from the ground before switching on the lights. And it was the sight of your swollen eyes, your bloodied knees, and your heaving breaths that had him running out of the room, grabbing the car keys and jacket from the hooks next to the door. The thought that someone might have hurt you set his head into flames. Taehyung’s assistant wakes with a slight gasp the moment Jungkook slams the door open into the bright reception desk area of a run-down funeral home. The walls vibrate.

“I’ll come with you,” is all Taehyung says as they fly out front door. His assistant would know what to do without him.

Taehyung takes the keys from his grasp and starts the car, stepping on the gas without hesitation as Jungkook buries his face in his hands and fold over in the passenger seat. He reaches over and runs his fingers through Jungkook’s hair, cursing underneath his breath. The younger man takes a moment to collect himself before his shaky fingers unlocks his phone once more, the loading screen causing him to bounce his knees as he waits. Even Taehyung’s comforting hand does nothing to soothe the panic rising up his esophagus.

“S-She’s going in the dark room,” he huffs as he keeps his eyes locked on his screen. “I don’t…d-don’t know why she-”

“We’ll figure it out when we get there.”

There are no cameras in the dark room, not even ones he can hide inside everyday objects.

In half the time it usually takes to get to the studio, Taehyung steers the vehicle into the familiar neighborhood, head swinging left and right to check if anyone else is nearby. Before he parks outside the garage, Jungkook undoes his seatbelt and steps out of the moving vehicle, running towards the front doorsteps. His shoulder crashes into the front door as he twirls his head around the studio, checking to see if he missed anything. He sees your handbag on the floor, the sliding doors to the darkroom remaining closed.

You’re inside there, hurt, bleeding, needing him. He should’ve stayed behind with you and let Taehyung take care of Yori; it wasn’t necessary for him to be there, but he didn’t want to be seen as ungrateful after asking for numerous favors.

Taehyung steps inside the studio and closes the front door behind him as Jungkook slides the darkroom doors open and step inside, sliding the wood back into place behind him. He steadies his breathing and takes a few seconds to adjust his eyes to the dark red bulbs above him. When he hears a crunch he looks down to see numerous photos of you underneath his soles, entire binders and broken photo frames laying across the concrete floors.

Jungkook steadies himself with one hand on the wall, lining the perimeter of the room until he can spot your hunched figure in front of the metal cabinets. Your shoulders are shaking, hand patting around the inside of the of the cabinet, knocking over medication, empty film canisters, and stationery.

“Noona?”

You gasp, your hand flying to cover your mouth in the semi-darkness. The bottle of pills in your hand clatters to the floor, rolling towards Jungkook’s boots. Your back slams into the cabinet behind, eyes wide with fright as your tears roll down your face. He keeps his eyes on you as he kneels and takes the bottle in his hands, briefly looking down at the transparent bottle before looking back up at you.

“What’s going on? Why are you crying?” He asks, panting as he strides towards you with outstretched arms.

In the midst of your anger you fail to realize someone like Jungkook would have taken extra steps to track where you are. You didn’t even check if the car or phone is bugged. Even during this time you’re still stupid, you think. No wonder it’s easy for men to lie to your face with that kind of carelessness.

You shake your head, backing away from him. “Don’t.”

His eyes brim with tears as you clutch your chest, your body trembling. Jungkook shakes his head, holding his bare hands in front of him to show he won’t touch you. You look at those hands – the hands that have caressed your cheeks in the morning, massaged your shoulders after long work hours, buried your old best friend – like they were weapons.

“I-I don’t understand,” he breathes, his hands trembling as his eyes rake over the scattered pictures on the floor, the open cabinet doors, and at your tattered appearance. You’re still dressed in his button down shirt, the material falling mid-thigh and he catches a glimpse of dried blood on your knees from your fall.

“I thought it was strange. How calm you were about all this. I t-thought…” you put your hands together over your heart, your chest shaking with sobs. He can hardly make out your words from the tears and the sound felt so painful to his ears he wanted to smother you, put his hands over your mouth, and keep you locked in his arms tight.

Your teeth clatters, not because you’re cold, Jungkook knows, but because you’re scared. Of him.

“Noona,” he whimpers again as he waits for your sobs to subside. He struggles to understand.

With the heel of your palm you wipe away the tears but the more you rub the worse it gets until you feel as if your face would drown under your own ministrations. The gut-wrenching pain you felt reading his report lingers in the depths of your stomach, churned into fear that there is a possibility you could end up just like them. How could you even know if his tears are real? How could you even know if the last few months of your relationship was even real?

“You never loved me, Jungkook. You…this is just some sick fantasy of yours, r-right?” Your voice breaks. You don’t understand what’s coming out of your mouth when the only thing you wanted to do was hurt him. Make him feel the way you do now. “Making me fall for you. Believe I can earn your dead parents’ approval. Making me your fucking doll. You got off on me being a naïve little bitch, didn’t you? You sick fuck.”

You know.

Oh god, you know.

Jungkook feels as if someone had wrapped a rope around his neck and pulled. Is it punishment for wanting happiness? Is it because he was bound to this endless life of suffering where the people he loved end up hurting him in the end? End up leaving?

Jungkook shakes his head, mouth falling open as he watches you back away from him into the corner. His sobs are loud and pained as if you had hit him across the cheeks. With every step he takes towards you, you take one step back, as if to say you don’t want him near, you don’t want him to touch you, as if you don’t even want him to look at you with those seemingly innocent eyes.

“You lied to me,” your voice reduces down to a whimper. “You promised me you’d never do that. Did you intend to keep this from me forever?”

“N-Noona…”

He falls to his knees, putting his hands together in prayer as he sobs. Through your anguish and his, Jungkook still holds your heart captive.

Like a dam bursting, his apologies engulfs you.

“Noona, I’m sorry! I-I-I didn’t know how to t-tell you,” he gasps for air, putting his hands down in front of him in surrender. He puts his forehead against the cold concrete, clasping his hands together in prayer, writhing, withering. “I swear, it wasn’t me! I didn’t w-want you to think I was a mu- murd-derer,” he hiccups, coughing as his hunched figure trembles.

Backing away until your shoulder blades lean against the adjacent walls, your body slides down, the phone from your grip clattering onto the floor. The screen brightens with the image of you and him as Jungkook’s trembling figure creeps closer, crawling towards your feet in the darkness. You can’t feel your teeth gnawing on your thumb until you taste blood in your mouth. You watch your boyfriend’s cold hands wrap around your ankles as he puts his forehead onto your calves and begs.

“I love you, noona. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I love you so much. Please don’t hate me noona, please, I don’t know what I’ll do if you hate me. I’m sorry I l-lied to you, I swear I was going to tell you everything soon, noona. W-Whatever you saw is all wrong. I never killed them, I l-loved them with all my heart,” he surrounds your folded legs in his embrace, leaning his wet cheeks against your scraped knees as he sobs. “They hurt me. They m-made me like this, I didn’t want to be like this noona, I ju-just wanted someone to love me. I didn’t mean to b-be bad-“ His clammy hands presses your calves together, keeping your knees still.

Jungkook’s head raises, slowly, his soft dark locks falling from his face. His doe eyes aren’t focused on you but on some invisible spot on the ground. He whimpers your name before doubling over and hurling vomit onto the ends of your shirt, his head slamming into the cabinet next to you. The stench of bile wafts towards your face but you’re given no chance to move when Jungkook gags and empties his stomach once more, acidic saliva slipping down the corner of his mouth as he sobs.

With no warning whatsoever, he brings his head back and slams the side of his head against the metal cabinet doors. You’re frozen stiff, your body trembling as you watch the love of your life knock his head into the doors again and again, drool dripping down his mouth.

When he wails, you reach for him. “K-Kook-”

He brings his head back, eyes glazed, as he rams his head into the metal sheet again. And again.

“I-I’m sorry noona,” he cries, etching the words into his skull. “Noona I’m sorry…I-I didn’t meant to hurt you nng, noona…I won’t…”

With shaky limbs you crawl closer to your boyfriend, pulling him by the collar to stop but the panic causes your shaky hands to slip, merely finding success in pushing him towards the ground. He coughs, gasping for air. When his wails become louder, you hover above his writhing figure, hands on his arms to keep him still in desperation. It’s no use when he continues to apologize, not hearing your pleas to stop, to listen to your voice and breathe. Seeing him like this makes you want to take back your words.

The door to the darkroom slams open, revealing a tall man whose face you can’t see until he steps further into the red hue. You weren’t aware Jungkook didn’t come alone.

He must be Kim Taehyung; there’s no mistake from the stained lab coat he adorns to the tar black eyes that could bore holes through your skull. He looks awfully similar to Jungkook and if you hadn’t read the case and hadn’t known that Jungkook was an only child, you would think they’re brothers.

“Move.” He commands, the edge in his voice causing you to flinch back as he crouches above your blubbering boyfriend’s head and scoop him from under the armpits.

He’s strong enough to uncurl Jungkook’s shaking body, hushing the cries as he places your boyfriend’s face under his chin and press him against his chest. Like a child, Jungkook’s hand reaches up to fist the lapels of Taehyung’s lab coat, sobbing so hard that you were afraid his lungs might burst.

“Hyung is here, Jungkookie. I’m here. She’s here too, okay? We won’t leave you. Hush now.”

Taehyung’s voice is deep but filled with warmth, completely different from all the times you’ve overheard him speak through a call in your living room.

“I-I’m so-sorry noona, I won’t do it again- n-noona-,” he coughs.

The older man reaches inside his coat and fishes out a syringe. He cover Jungkook’s eyes with his long fingers, whispers a word of reassurance, before pressing the needle deep into Jungkook’s arm.

In a few short seconds, the cries lower, Jungkook’s body falling limp against the older man’s chest as your name falls repeatedly from his swollen lips. Taehyung places the syringe in his pocket and wipes the vomit and saliva from Jungkook’s chin with his thumb, his eyes sad as he peers at the boy in his arms.

The sound of water dripping down the faucet seems as loud as fireworks in the silence of the room. With your arms wrapped around yourself, knees pressed against your chest, you watch Taehyung brush away Jungkook’s sweat-soaked hair and wipe away the snot and tears on his nose and cheeks with the sleeves of his coat. Once his face is dry, he props Jungkook against the cabinet and stands to face the faucet, gathering a handful of water in his hands and cleaning Jungkook’s forehead where a bruise is starting to form.

“How did you find out?”

The tethered anger in his voice causes you to curl into the corner, making yourself as small as possible. You don’t forget that Taehyung is the reason why they are both free men; the man is every bit terrifying as he is handsome.

“A-A friend of mine…he showed me.”

Taehyung hums, knowing exactly who had caused tonight’s troubles, wiping his hands on his coat. He takes several strides and crouch down in front of you, glancing at Jungkook’s face before turning back. He stares into your eyes without commenting and you’re not sure where to look. You settle on looking down at your scraped knees, the trembling causing your voice to shake.

“Are you disgusted?”

You meet his eyes, biting the insides of your cheeks. “D-Disgusted…no. Not disgusted. I’m just…scared…s-scared of what he did.”

He exhales, his long fingers coming up to massage his temples.

“I killed them.” He blinks. He nods shortly afterwards, as if he were reliving the moment. “Jungkook was simply there. They were going to kill him. It was me who did everything you saw in those photos.”

You swallow, eyes brimming with tears as your body warms in response. Your boyfriend is innocent. Maybe not completely, but enough that you can release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.

“Okay.” You murmur, nodding. You’re not sure what the proper response is for that kind of confession.

“There are some people who don’t deserve to be parents. His mother, especially. You would be surprised how happy he became when we had no more family.”

You nod, keeping your eyes lowered. Your eyes fall to your cellphone near Taehyung’s shoes, your lips parting.

“T-Then…he wasn’t adopted afterwards?”

Taehyung cocks his head. “Adopted?”

“I-it’s just,” you stammer, wondering if it would anger him if you asked but something tells you Taehyung is a reasonable man albeit his brutality. “There’s a co-contact in his phone…a-and he labeled her as ‘mother’…”

The older man nods. “We call her our mother. She helped us when we had nowhere to go, gave us a place to sleep.”

As if the weight from your shoulders melted away once more, you slump against the wall. Of course, Jungkook wouldn’t cheat on you with another woman.

Taehyung continues. “We did what we had to do. We learned how to make fake documents, little things like IDs, and it kept us afloat for a while. Jungkook prefers that kind of work still, but I don’t. You’ll never see a photographer making this kind of money without dabbling into…indecent practices. It’s expensive to feel secure, I’m sure you can at least relate to that.”

He smiles but it doesn’t reach his eyes. “Do you understand the kind of life we had now?”

You nibble on your bottom lip. There’s no doubt you love Jungkook but the wound remains agape, the initial ugly feeling of betrayal swimming in your belly. You have the right to feel this way, but Taehyung is rather unconcerned about your feelings. If you weren’t loved by Jungkook, he would have stuck the barrel of his gun down your throat and threaten to blow out your organs out the other end. He’ll be patient this time and let nature takes its course; there’s a possibility you’re pregnant. You won’t be able to leave now, and you won’t be able to leave once you carry the baby to full term.

“I do,” you answer, the trembling gone.

You glance over at Jungkook’s sleeping form. Despite how hurt you may be now, you need to be there for him. You can’t imagine how sick he would feel, how much panic he would feel, when he wakes.

“I’m glad you do. After all,” Taehyung stands. “You’re not completely innocent either.”

Your head snaps up to meet his gaze.

He knows about Yori.

“Did you…?”

He confirms your thoughts. “I did. There’s no need to worry unless you talk, and if you know what’s good for you, you won’t.”

You release a shaky breath. “Okay.”

You’ve reached a dead end. You can’t amend your mistakes like good people, sane people, do. You’re as good as married to Jeon Jungkook, Yori’s burial being the glue tying you to him in holy matrimony. You have no choice but to vow to protect and love him in sickness and health. In all honestly, you can’t imagine your life any other way.

Taehyung brushes invisible dust off his coat.

“There is one more thing,” he says and with new conviction you meet his gaze once more. “If by any chance you do something stupid, I will kill you. And Jungkook can’t stop me then. Remember that.”

…

Seokjin follows the scent of a cigarette. It’s hardly half past six in the morning and the wind makes him push his head down as he maneuvers through the trees to the abandoned park. The playground he played in as a child is torn down, the blue slides and yellow swings torn apart by ongoing construction. Between the trees and industrial machinery he struggles to find his former co-worker and friend who had messaged him quite suddenly about the investigation on Jungkook. It’s something big, he says, and Hoseok doesn’t say something like that unless he means it. And if it’s bigger than the case file, then it’s bound to be something incriminating. He wasn’t sure if Yoongi might be here too, but he doubt it since the man can hardly drag himself out of bed in the morning.

It’s a little odd that Hoseok asked to meet immediately and he wonders if it was because he responded as soon as he received the text. Maybe if he had answered later in the day he could sleep in before work, but with Yori’s disappearance his nights have been filled with thoughts about you. Some fresh air would serve him well.

“Hoseok?!” He turns his head left and right, huffing as he struggle to catch his footing on the uneven cobblestone paths.

When he hear footsteps near the playground he turns his head towards the noise, blinking as he struggles to make out the figure of a person on the ground. She must be homeless, he thinks, as he watches her wrap her tattered scarf around her neck while wailing in a strange, kitten-like voice. She mutters something to herself in another language.

He takes a step closer, calling out to the plump woman as she stretches a leg out in front of her and fans her hand over what looks like a bloody wound. The gash is deep enough for him to stop in his tracks.

“Ma’am are you alright?” He asks.

His phone rings in his coat pocket and he reaches inside, looking down at Namjoon’s number displayed across the screen before locking his phone. Seems like he’s quite in demand this morning. He tucks the device back into his coat and walks over to the woman.

“Ma’am?”

She looks up at him, her mud-caked face and hair crumbling as she whimpers and move her bloody leg away from his sight.

“Do you need help standing?” He asks, closing in on her rocking figure. It’s not safe for a woman – much less a homeless woman – to be alone and injured. The park hardly garners enough visitors for its awkward location. He might be her only help.

“N-no…n-no…no,” the woman holds her leg away, wailing as she rocks from side to side.

Seokjin hovers next to the woman, folding over to gauge the extent of her injuries when his eyes trails over the thin red paint covering from the bottom of her knee to the middle of her calves. She babbles and wails, flailing her arms over the leg until a silver glint flashes over his eyes and air is knocked out of his lungs. When he opens his eyes and groans, he’s facing the cloudless sky, his vision flashing purple and black. He curses and turns to his side only to come face to face with a pair of black shoes.

He doesn’t raise his chin. Rather, he’s not given the choice, not when he feels the barrel of a gun pressed upon his noggin. The sound of bullet entering its chamber sounds from behind and he realizes quickly that he’s been set up.

“Kim Taehyung,” he wheezes, sputtering as he catches his breath. The gun behind him trails up his spine until it’s pressing into the back of his skull. He doesn’t know who that woman his, but he knows for sure the man standing in front of him can’t be anyone else but Taehyung.

In his paralysis he can hardly think of how Taehyung was able to use Hoseok’s number to meet him at a place only he and Hoseok investigated. The last time he spoke to him, Hoseok had only warned that he couldn’t continue the investigation, that Kim Taehyung had formally requested him to quit meddling, and ended the call shortly after. Surely Taehyung couldn’t have done something to the man in Hong Kong? He couldn’t think of a reason why someone who isn’t even related to Jungkook by blood will go through such lengths to protect him.

“Didn’t I tell you not to meddle in my affairs?”

He nods, exhaling. “You d-did.”

The gun from behind slides from his skull to his temple.

“You should have listened the first time.”

#bunny:fic #only you 10 #jungkook fanfiction #jungkook yandere #jungkook angst #yandere fanfiction #yandere bts #bts fanfiction #bangtan fanfiction #bangtan angst #bangtan yandere #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #bangtan fanfic #only you

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writersrealmbts · 3 years

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Diamond Tears and Little Wings: Part 7/Final

Description: You’re a fairy, taken in by BTS. You need lots of love and care, otherwise your light will fade and you turn to stone. Between the seven of them, you should never feel unloved. Right?

Warnings: N/A

Posted: 03/04/2021

Tags: bts x reader, ot7

Fluff: 4,296 words

A/N: Woohoo! We finished the series!

They had almost completely redecorated the apartment, making it ultra-fairy friendly. It was like a paradise and you loved them even more for it.

Your dollhouse was perfect, and had more spots for you to hide in because you did need privacy (the bathroom was also completely closed in this one, thank goodness). It had it’s own power source and running water, and magic plumbing because they got it from fairy craftsmen. The stove worked, the fridge worked, and the bed was soft and plump.

They had more plush rugs around the house just in case you crashed (it happened), and way more house plants. Even a sauna-like terrarium for winter days.

Your room was decorated with new pictures, posters, and paintings.

And they’d rearranged their rooms, too. Jimin’s and Hoseok’s beds arranged to be more easily pushed together at a moment’s notice—something they were doing before even unpacking.

Yoongi brought in blankets and pillows as you tried to figure out what they were doing.

Jungkook and Taehyung brought in the TV and dvd player, and Seokjin brought in the table for it to rest on.

Then they all disappeared, Hoseok patting you on the head as he passed.

You looked around, frowning as you tried to figure out when they had agreed on a movie night, especially since you’d been with them the whole time….

Taehyung came back first, cleaned up and picking you up. Carrying you up the side of the bed and then setting you down as far as he could reach, but without reaching the crack. He was humming happily as he climbed onto the bed beside you, and wrapped you in his arms, making sure both of you were propped up for watching whatever movie it was that they had chosen. You hoped it wasn’t anything too intricate, after flying through timezones and since you were still adjusting.

Taehyung was running his fingers through your hair, playing with it. “It was really bad that first month,” He whispered.

You studied his face, seeing the invisible scars in the look in his eyes and the way they stared at nothing.

“The first day we were a mess, and just sort of…numb. But that night…Hobi-hyung was so angry and he picked a fight with Jin-hyung. I think Jin-hyung only went along with the fight because he didn’t want Hobi-hyungie doing it to us. I’ve never seen either of them like that. And then Namjoonie-hyung got involved, but he was also arguing instead of trying to settle it. Yoongi-hyung grabbed Jimin and Jungkook and dragged them out, but I wouldn’t let him pull me away. I was too worried about them.”

You hugged him tighter, still fixated on his micro-expressions.

“You know how Jin-hyung is, he’ll fight but then he’ll be the first to apologize…even if he doesn’t really understand why there was a fight in the first place. I mean, we all knew that it was because we lost you, but also…Hobi just…he wasn’t making any sense. He was angry, so angry. He ended up hitting Jin-hyung.”

You felt your eyes widen.

Tae finally looked at you, nodding slightly at your expression and then looking away at nothing again. “It got so quiet. Hobi-hyung had hit him in the face and Jin-hyung was on the floor. We all just stood there for…minutes. Jin-hyung didn’t try to get up, just holding his face where he had been hit, laying on the ground…” Tae shuddered. “Yoongi hyung was the first to move, going over and standing between Hobi and Jin. He didn’t say anything, just glared at Hoseok-hyung. Wouldn’t let him or Namjoon get close when they both started panicking and trying to see if Jin-hyung was okay. I went to him, and he finally got up. He pulled me to the fridge to grab an ice pack, then back to his room and we just…sat together. Listening to all of the crying in the house. I got angry at Hobi-hyung for hitting him, but Jin-hyung just shrugged. Said that Hobi didn’t mean it. That it was just because…because you were gone and none of us knew how to handle it.”

“I take it they made up,” You whispered.

He nodded. “Hoseokie-hyung hasn’t fully forgiven himself. He started going to his therapist regularly after talking with Jin-hyung that night. And we had our group discussion…but it was strange. Jin-hyung said he’d rather we blamed him than ourselves, because he could handle our wrath against him…but he couldn’t handle us hurting ourselves with that guilt. Yoongi hyung was so angry at that…told Jin to blame him if that’s what Jin wanted the rest of us to do. But Jin-hyung was so calm. All he said was that he didn’t blame himself, or any of our members.”

“Who did he blame?”

“I don’t know. He never would say, and we never could figure out who he was acting more coldly toward.”

You frowned slightly. “Maybe because it was someone he already acted coldly toward?”

“Maybe, but I still don’t know who that would be.”

You nodded slowly, a few ideas popping into your own head, but figuring it was better not to voice them. “What else happened?”

“Jiminie ran away,” Taehyung said, still sounding horrified from the event. Didn’t go home or anything. It’s dangerous for us, you know? And he’d been handling it so poorly that we panicked. We told the fans that he had gotten a cold and that the medicine made him hallucinate and he’d run away and they helped us find him. They were really nice about it too, they didn’t approach him or anything, even blocked a sassaeng fan. Jimin did end up sick, so it wasn’t a lie after that. Jimin wasn’t allowed to be alone after that. Namjoon stepped down from being the leader for a week—which was how long it took the rest of us to make him realize that none of us were equipped for that position. Jungkook got caught getting another tattoo and he pretty much was completely withdrawn. We were a mess.”

“No kidding,” You murmured. “And you?”

He chewed his lip. “I don’t know. I just felt so…helpless. But I guess I was the only one that Jin-hyung and Yoongi-hyung could keep a firm hold on. If I wasn’t with one, I was with the other. Even at night. Sometimes I spent the night with Jimin, if Jin-hyung was with one of the others while Yoongi-hyung was in the studio. Hobi hyung would sometimes let me cling to him at work if they weren’t around. I don’t know. It was all like a bad dream and if I could only grab hold of everyone the bad stuff would go away, but only a few people were letting my hold onto them.”

“My poor boys,” You whispered, grouping them together because you knew he didn’t want you saying poor him. “So hurt, so sad.”

“You were in the worst situation, though,” He whispered. “He hit you, y/n.”

You shrugged a little. “Only in the last two weeks.”

He grumbled unintelligibly, then seemed to remember something else. “Oh. Jungkookie also hit Jin-hyung. We didn’t hear about it until after, because we came home to find both of them holding ice-packs to injuries and Jungkook crying.”

You pushed yourself up to look at him in disbelief. “So…Jin hit him back?”

“Oh, they fought. Not for very long, but apparently they fought.”

You shook your head a bit. “Any other physical altercations?”

“Yoongi wrestling Jimin, but no one got hurt. I think Yoongi and Jin got into a couple fights behind closed doors.” Taehyung shivered and snuggled down into bed more. “It was a bad time.”

“No kidding,” You muttered, getting up and ignoring his whining. “I think I should talk to all of you in private. Between you and Jimin I’m very concerned and I just…I think I need to hear what happened from each of you.”

Taehyung bit his lip, but he nodded.

You ventured out, looking for who you could corner first.

Instead you were cornered by Jungkook.

You easily let him pick you up and carry you into his room, giggling softly at his jokes as he carried you in to keep him company while he finished getting ready for the night.

But you were pretty sure he knew why you were there.

“It wasn’t a big deal,” He said quietly. “Me hitting hyung. I was angry about something stupid and hyung was just trying to be there for me and we both misinterpreted what was happening and I hit him…and then…I was already so angry and it felt good to hit something and before I knew it I was swinging at him again. Then he was hitting back, but never trying to beat me, just trying to get me to snap out of it. I did, and he held onto me, and he went with me to the therapist the next day. It’s the only time it ever happened. We worked on redirecting my anger when it came up. I wasn’t nearly as bad as Jimin or Hobi-hyung. And Yoongi-hyung laid into me for fighting with Jinnie-hyung, but he backed off when Hyung talked to him. I think…even though Hobi-hyung and Jiminie-hyung reacted the worst…I think Jin-hyung and Yoongi-hyung had it the worst. They tried so hard to hold us all together. I’ve never seen Yoongi-hyung so actively desperate to bring us together as he was in those first few weeks. And…I don’t know. It definitely made me feel ashamed.”

You nodded slowly. “Anything else happen?”

Jungkook bit his lip.

“Jungkookie, I’m just trying to get a sense of what you all went through,” You told him softly.

He took a deep breath. “Namjoon-hyung. He spent too long in the studio and had to go to the hospital to get an I.V. because he was so dehydrated. And I think you already guessed that Jimin-hyung went off of food. We pretty much force-fed him meals, usually protein shakes were the most we could get him to consume willingly. He was just so…out of his mind with grief. He’d spent the first few nights you were gone researching what happened when a fairy was taken from the most loving home they had been in—not that he told us he did that until a couple months later when he was finally not acting crazy.”

You nodded again. “But you all took care of him. That’s the most important thing. You all took care of him.”

Jungkook’s eyes went to the sheet on his bed. “I should have helped more.”

“It’s over. You all made it. Maybe a little worse for wear, but you’re all alive and relatively healthy. That’s the most important.” You leaned in and kissed his nose because it was an adorable nose. And sure, maybe you wanted to be little and escape all of this sadness but you also figured there was plenty of time to be little in your future.

After you had finished talking with the boys.

Hoseok was the next you managed to corner, in Tae’s room since he was grabbing the boy’s pillow, and it must have been clear from your expression or the way you closed the door that you wanted to talk to him about something important because he definitely blanched and looked for a way to escape.

“Hobi,” You murmured pitifully, pouting. “Don’t tell me you’re already sick of me.”

He froze. “No, never, don’t even joke about that.”

“Then sit with me a moment?” You asked as softly as you could, talking as though to an animal that looked spooked, trying to calm him down back into your trust.

He was hesitant, maybe a little stiff, but he sat down on the end of the bed with you.

You took one of his hands in yours, just sort of feeling them. “I just wanted to find out, from you, what happened while I was gone. I’ve talked with some of the others…but I wanted to hear your story.”

He took a deep breath, his hand closing around one of yours and giving it a soft squeeze. “It was so quiet after you were gone, and I don’t think any of us knew what to do or say. Then Yoongi insisted on us being allowed to go home. Even after we got home…the silence was just unbearable and you…what was left of your presence was everywhere and I couldn’t stand that you weren’t there. I couldn’t believe they actually took you away from us. I wanted to cry but I just got angry. I got so angry. Because you were ours, a part of us, and you would forget us, but we would always, always remember. They were the ones who made us get you in the first place and then, after us being on board since the moment we met you, they made us let you go.”

You bit your lip.

“They made us let you go and…and if they had it their way we would never see you again and I couldn’t handle that. And I was so frustrated and heartbroken and Jin asked me if I wanted to eat and I…I really lost it. I’ve never been so terrified of myself.” He breathed in shakily. “I don’t know why I said those things. I don’t know why it was so important to me, it was just whether I felt like I could eat or not but at that time it felt like a complete judgement of my wellbeing. Whether I was okay or not and I wasn’t, and I argued with him. I argued and argued and Namjoon started arguing with both of us and I was just so frustrated and…I….” His voice cracked, and he looked away from you.

“You hit Jin,” You murmured.

He sobbed slightly and nodded. “I didn’t mean to. I would never hurt them. I hate fighting.”

“I know,” You whispered, wrapping your arms around him. “You’re our sunshine. And I know Jin forgave you. You were under a lot of stress.”

He just pressed his face into your shoulder, crying for a while.

You carded your fingers through his hair, trying to comfort him while he cried and work through it all.

He took a breath finally, barely moving so that he could keep talking. “It was just…really hard to care about work when it was the reason we lost you. When they’re the ones who took you away. I never thought I’d have a time where I questioned the fans’ affection for us but I did. And then the others were struggling so much and I didn’t know how to help. Normally we know how to help each other. We’re so used to it. Usually it would be easy to distract Jimin, or cheer up Jungkook. Normally I could get Jin-hyung to joke with me, or get Yoongi to crack a smile. But…we were also used to you being there for us.”

“It must have been a scary time.”

He nodded slowly. “I think Namjoon thought it was his fault that you were taken away. Like, if he was a better leader then you would have still been with us. He pretty much completely retreated into himself. I know Jin-hyung dragged him out of the house to see the therapist, but other than that he was either in his room or in the studio until about two months ago. That was when we all sort of…came back together.”

“What brought that about?” You asked, curious. It sounded like they were all hot-messes, so you weren’t really able to picture any of them coming together.

Hoseok frowned slightly, looking up at the ceiling. “I’m still not sure. I was in my room with Taehyungie and then Jimin came in and said the others were waiting in the living room. But Namjoon did the talking at first.”

You nodded, carefully wiping the tears from his face. “I love you.”

He gave a sob-laugh and carefully pecked your lips. “Love you too. I’m going to wash my face again.”

You laughed softly. “I don’t blame you. I have to go corner Namjoon.”

“Good luck.”

Namjoon was easy to corner, and he opened up even more easily. “I think we were all blaming ourselves, and sometimes even blaming ourselves for loving you. It’d almost be like if we lost one of the members, we’d all go mad.”

You nodded. “And you spent a lot of time blaming yourself. Also you decided to throw yourself into your work and ended up making a hospital visit.”

He winced a little, rubbing his neck and giving you a sheepish smile. “Not my finest moment. Actually, there were a lot of moments like that after you were taken away.”

“Tae said you tried to step down from being leader.”

He groaned. “It was a nightmare. The members and Bang PD-nim all cornered me after a week and basically told me no, then showed me everything that they did wrong without me. I was fixing it for weeks.”

You laughed softly, sympathetic even if you didn’t completely know what went into it all. “You know they probably gave them extra things to mess up on purpose?”

He nodded. “It did occur to me that that might have been the case. I appreciate that they appreciate me.”

“Anything else happen that you want to tell me about?”

“Yoongi and Jin…I think they’re the only reason we didn’t completely fall apart. And I know I didn’t make it easy for them. Honestly, I think the only one who made it easy was Taehyung. I felt bad when I saw how much Tae was struggling and we had a small fight. I don’t even know that he would call it a fight, but Tae asked to stay with me in the studio and I was insistent on not letting him. He was crying when he left. I think he was trying to reach me, bring me back in. I didn’t let him and I know that hurt him a little.”

You sighed, moving over and cupping his face in your hands. “Joonie. You came back. You continued on as their leader, and all of you are together, and you all found me. Sort of.”

“You definitely found us first,” He answered, pulling your hands off of his face and instead drawing you closer so that he could hug you. He then kissed you somewhat chastely. “You’re the remedy to cure all ills.”

“Definitely not,” You answered, laughing a little. “Namjoon…when you all came together again…what started that?”

He shrugged. “I mean, I technically started it. I was the one to talk about us once we were all gathered…but it was strange how we all gathered. I only know that Jimin got Hoseok and Taehyung. The rest of us seemed to be there intuitively.”

You nodded, a sneaking suspicion that Yoongi or Jin or both of them had somehow managed to coordinate that. You fluttered a bit to reach his lips and place another kiss on them. “Good talk. I’m going to go hunt down a Yoongi or Jin.”

He grinned. “Good luck, baby.”

Jin was easier, since he just finished shaving and was completely unaware of you about to stop him and ask about the time while you were away.

“It was a little rough, but nothing we couldn’t handle. Why?”

“Because all of the others, Yoongi aside because I haven’t talked with him yet, have given me some stories about what happened the first two months after I was taken. It sounds like you had it really rough. Between Hoseok, Jungkook, and possibly Yoongi hitting you and wrestling Jimin to keep him from searching the town like a madman and dragging Namjoon to the psychiatrist….”

Jin looked uncomfortable, which you expected. He didn’t like talking about unpleasant things. He didn’t like dwelling on the unfortunate, he’d rather be happy.

You waited silently for him to say anything.

“Hoseok would have hit anything at that moment, I just happened to be the closest thing to hit. And Jungkook…well…we both provoked that. And Yoongi…he…he didn’t hit me. Not…not like that. His was more like when you cry when your overwhelmed and you try to fight against it. Except he did it to try not to cry. He wanted me to blame him so badly because he blamed himself and I wouldn’t. I couldn’t. It wasn’t his fault and I wouldn’t blame him for it. Life happens. Just like burnt pancakes. All we can do is hope the next pancake doesn’t burn since we have more experience now.” He shrugged.

“You’re okay?” You asked, hugging him.

He nodded. “I’m more than okay, especially now that they’re all happy again. I know it’s still going to be a rough for a while because we’ve got stuff to work through, but the biggest problem is resolved and we have each other to get through things with.”

“You and Yoongi arranged the meeting where you all came back together,” You said firmly.

He smiled and nodded. “Took us a week to set that up. Tae and Jungkook were easy. Hoseok was also ready. Jimin was starting to calm down and listen. Namjoon was talking again. Yoongi and I just carefully planned for everyone to meet in the living room. We really only told Jungkook and Jimin to come to the living room, and with Jungkook it was more like a ‘come cuddle with me because hyung needs you right now’. Namjoon came in and just seemed to think we were waiting to call a meeting because Yoongi was telling Jungkook that someday we would all come back together and I guess the timing was just…perfect. Especially since I was the one to talk to Namjoon about the group coming back together.”

“Sly oldest boys,” You whispered happily, smiling. “They’re so lucky they had you two.”

He smiled back.

“But it must have been exhausting.”

He laughed a bit and nodded. “Yeah. Really exhausting. Yoongi and I would crash in the same bedroom at night sometimes just to complain about how tiresome trying to wrangle them were.”

You giggled, imagining both of them just grumbling until they fell asleep. “Know where Yoongi is?”

He shook his head. “No clue. But he might be in with the others already.”

You nodded. “Help me drag him out if he is?”

“Anything for you.”

Yoongi was in the room, looking confused at Jungkook who was blocking him. “I thought we were watching a movie?”

“After you talk to me, we are,” You replied before Jungkook could. “I don’t expect it to take too long. Seokjinnie’s didn’t.”

Jin stole a kiss for the use of the nickname and the cutesy voice.

Yoongi apprehensively took your outstretched hand and followed you back to his room, sitting with you.

“I just wanted to ask you about the first couple of months after I was taken away,” You said carefully. “Everyone had a bit of a rough time. Jin mentioned that you blamed yourself.”

Yoongi didn’t look at you. “If I had kept my mouth shut about you changing sizes—”

“Then they would have found out some other way,” You quickly cut him off. “That fansign wasn’t the first time they tried to get me in front of a crowd with you boys, it was just the first time they succeeded. Because I didn’t have a choice that time. And you’re one of the ones we get to thank for all of us being together again.”

Yoongi looked at you, meeting your gaze. “You’re…you’ve grown a lot this time.”

You wrinkled your nose. “I really haven’t, I’m just really worried about all of you. Even though most of the things to worry about have passed. I just…I want everyone to recover and know that everything that happened may have happened for a reason. To help you all grow, maybe, or…or maybe to help your fans see that it’s okay for you to have me. That I’m a part of all of you now.”

He laughed silently, then pulled you closer. “You can be small now, little wing. It’s okay. I think now that you’re here a lot of things will get better.”

You felt a little relief wash over you, and you shrunk to the size of a small child, letting him pick you up and carry you back toward the room. “You’re okay?”

“Yeah. Just…hold onto me a little longer,” He said with surprisingly frankness, but as quietly as he could.

So you held onto him tighter, letting him carry you to your designated spot on the bed and telling them you wouldn’t let go when they complained about wanted a spot next to you, and that they could have the spot after the movie.

There was still a lot left unsaid, but you didn’t feel like crying anymore. And if you did feel like crying, you didn’t have to hide your tears.

The bond between them was stronger than ever.

And no one would ever take you from them again.

You would always be loved, and you would always love them.

What more could a fairy ask for?

–

Masterlist - ot7 Masterpost

Tagging: @alex–awesome–22, @bryvada, @missmoxxiesworld @subzerobts @forvever-ddaeng @vividwoosan @mischiefmakerliesmith5 @beach-bitch-bitch-beach @minmeowmeowcuddles @kpopfictrash @castlewolfsbane @scatkpoptrash @knjhe @i-dont-even-know-fck @soulphoenix1618 @kerikaaria @sea-nevermind-enthusiast @reinaxans @mcusuperfreak @londongirl2011

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cityofdreams-writing · 3 years

Text

~The BTS Lofi Shop~

Type: Mini-Series Imagine

Rating: M

Pairing: Platonic!Shop Owners!BTS x Male!Reader

Word Count: 830

Genre: Fluff with a bit of angst

Warnings: Flirty BTS, Swearing, some dark mentions about Namjoon's past I guess?

Author: @cityofdreams-writing

Description: You catch your best friend and your boyfriend cheating on you, so you find some shop owners that become your best friends.

Notes: BTS' "Magic Shop" and my friend's story "Mocha" has inspired this one. Thank you guys so much. @guksauce, this one's for you, noona.

Soundtrack: Click!

Chapter: |1| |2|

It’s 3 AM on a stormy night, and you’re sitting outside in the rain, the cold soaking your back as tears run down your face. Your hair’s a mess, wet and tangled beyond anything your normal untangling dry shampoo can do.

“Run!” Your mind screams at you.

Because you are just as cowardly as they say you are.

You had come home to your boyfriend and best friend, fucking each other.

And all you did was stand there. Shocked. And betrayed.

And then you ran, ran far away, hoping The wind and the rain could drown you, take you away from the misery you called a life.

But it didn’t. Instead, it left you on the pavement, where you are now, letting the rain wash away your tears.

You get up, hoping to find a bar, or something, just so you could forget about your immense problems for the night.

Suddenly, you stumble upon a shop.

A soft blue light spills like water from the inside, alerting you that it’s open.

What fucking shop would be open at this ungodly hour?

You open the door, stumbling inside and bringing rainwater in. The door slams shut behind you as you let it go after a good three seconds.

Oh.

The place is warm.

Something you thought that you’d never feel again.

There’s a man at the register, who looks up as you enter.

“Welcome to the BTS Lofi Café, how may I-Oh my God! Guys, come here!”

The staff, you assume, are made of six other boys. They gather around your soaked form, so terrified and concerned, a mix of emotions all surrounding you at once. They’re almost overwhelming.

The man who was at the cashier, his dirty blond hair combed to perfection, sits down at the table you sit at.

He offers a hand, deep dimples popping as he smiles. “Hello, my name is Namjoon, nice to meet you.” His voice is so deep.

You don’t take his hand, not trusting the handsome man just yet.

He chuckles sadly. “Rough night?” Another boy plops down next to you, his perfume smelling of lavender. You love lavender.

You groan. “Tell me about it. You find out your best friend’s a two-timing whore. What do you do?”

The pretty boy chuckles. “Oh, I’ve faced that before. Thankfully, my current boyfriend wouldn’t ever do that.” He says, gesturing to the man named Namjoon.

“How about we introduce ourselves?” A short man with mint green hair steps forward.

“My name’s Namjoon, as you already know. I’m the owner of this café.”

The pretty boy speaks next. His voice is soft, just like the rest of him. “My name’s Seokjin, you can call me Jin. I manage the rest of the team when Namjoon’s not around.”

The mint green boy’s earrings dangle as he tilts his head, studying you like a painting. “Name’s Yoongi. I take charge of finances around here.” His voice is deep, with a rich Daegu accent.

The fourth man, all sunshine and bright smiles, radiates positivity as he speaks in a voice that doesn’t quite match his personality. “My name is Hoseok, but you can call me Hobi! I help with cleaning around here!” His voice is low, and smooth as honey. Alluring, even. You probably wouldn’t mind having that voice flirt with you in be-

“Shut up, just shut up. Someone is speaking, don’t be rude.” Your brain states like an annoying older sibling. Specifically, that someone seems to be another short boy, this one with pink hair and plump red lips.

“My name is Jimin. I take care of making stuff around here.” His voice has the drag of a Busan Satori accent, and his voice is low, like he’s telling someone a secret.

The sixth boy looks like he’s barely over sixteen. “Taehyung’s the name, but please call me Tae. I’m just kinda the apprentice around here.” He puts his arm around a baby-faced boy. He’s got long black hair and dangling silver earrings, and HOLD THE FUCK UP- ARE THOSE TATTOOS?! Wow...the tattoos curl all the way up his muscular arm, they‘re on his knuckles too...

“My name is Jungkook, you can call me JK. I‘m an all-rounder.” He’s got a baby voice as well...how adorable. He smiles charismatically, showing his bunny teeth.

“What’s your name?” The voice belongs to quiet Yoongi.

“O-oh, I’m (Y/N)...” You can’t help but stutter. Surrounded by these handsome men that you just met seconds before, the desire to know them better is overwhelming.

“You could stay here, (Y/N), if you’d like. I don’t think the rain’s gonna let up.” Namjoon says.

Surrounded by soft music, a pretty blue light, and seven handsome boys with a cup of freshly-made vanilla mocha in your hand, you’re not going anywhere for the world. Not until morning at least. But even then, that’s debatable. You really want to get to know these kind handsome strangers who helped you.

Maybe the night wouldn’t be so bad.

#bts fluff #bts x male reader #bts angst #bts rm #bts jin #bts suga #bts jhope #bts jimin #bts v #bts jungkook #kim namjoon #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #King's fics

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angellesword · 3 years

Text

MAGIC SHOP | JJK (07)

Description: You and Jungkook were best friends who were in love with each other. What would happen when Soojin, your half sister who you’re trying to impress, told you she’s in love with Jungkook too?

Alternatively:

“Would you believe me if I said that I was scared of everything too?”

Genre: childhood best friends to lovers, family drama, angst, fluff, idiots to lovers, pining, slice of life au.

Pairing: Architect!Jungkook x Architect!Reader

Word Count: 2.5k

Warnings: homophobia (Tae’s family is insisting he can’t be gay)

SERIES: CHAPTER 6 | CHAPTER 8

CHAPTER’S OST: Fix You covered by BTS

When you try your best, but you don't succeed

You closed your eyes the moment you heard the first line of the song.

When you get what you want but not what you need

Your heart was thumping, unable to bottle up the emotions that had been eating you for months now.

One year and seven months, to be exact.

You left Seoul, your hometown, nineteen months ago.

"Why can't we just eat at home?" Taehyung groaned, clearly not happy with how things were going right now.

You shrugged because you also didn't know why Yoongi and Jimin decided to have dinner at Per Se, a fine dining restaurant, tonight.

Did they forget that you and your brother were broke? The both of you couldn't live life like you once did in Korea.

Life in the city that never sleeps was different. You still had a job, but you were no longer an architect, deciding that it was best to pursue graphic designing instead.

You worked from eight to five pm in an office now. Gone were the days you visited construction sites. What you created at your current job were images, logos and even diagrams.

When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep

You loved your job, unfortunately your compensation was not enough to keep you going, making you feel like you were:

Stuck in reverse

Your salary was barely enough to cover your rent and utilities expenses. Jimin, your roommate, knew this so he lent you his car, the same car Taehyung was driving at this moment.

You didn't want to borrow your roommate's car at first, but Jimin insisted, saying that he had a new car and that he didn't know what to do with the old one.

Jimin didn't want to sell it. He was a very sentimental person and the car was actually a gift from his parents.

So he let you use it. You were special to Jimin. He wouldn't mind that you and your brother were using something that he loved.

"Fuck it. I'm going home," Taehyung announced, suddenly turning right.

Your eyes widened, ready to scold him.

But you didn't. Now when—

And the tears come streaming down your face

—he was crying.

You gasped, but you quickly pursed your lips into a thin line. You also looked outside the window of the car, refusing to look at your brother.

You didn't want him to feel like you were prying or that you felt bad for him. No. Taehyung didn't appreciate empathy. For him, it was just the kinder version of pity.

He didn't need you or anyone to feel bad for him as it would only make him feel like his decision was wrong.

When you lose something, you can't replace

When Taehyung moved back here in New York, he lost something that he could never replace: his family in Seoul.

You remembered why your brother lost contact with the Kims. It happened almost two years ago.

"I'll just change," was your excuse so that you could get out of the dining area and also because you knew Jungkook would follow you.

You had to talk to him.

You had to remind him again not to tell anyone in your family that you and him were dating.

You thought it would only be for the meantime; however, you changed your mind after your father explained why he wanted Soojin and Jungkook to get married.

It was for Castle, the company your mother, Taemin, and Jong-in all built together.

How could you let the empire fall?

Apart from this, you saw how Soojin looked at your boyfriend. She loved him. Maybe more than you could ever love Jungkook.

When you love someone, but it goes to waste

You didn't want Jungkook's love to go to waste. You didn't deserve him. He deserved Soojin, someone who could love him dearly.

"Jungkook, as we are saying—" Sin-ae tried to open the conversation again the moment you disappeared from the scene.

Your best friend cut Sin-ae off though. You were right. Jungkook was going to follow you.

"W-Wait! Jungkook! Where are you going?" Sin-ae panicked, getting up so she could follow Jungkook.

Sin-ae could tell that this situation was starting to upset her daughter. Soojin was gritting her teeth, tears filled her eyes.

"Mom. Let Jungkook be." Taehyung said, stopping Sin-ae from running after your best friend. He just knew Jungkook's going to go to you. You and him clearly needed some time alone.

"No. I still have something to say to that boy!"

"It can wait." Taehyung clenched his fist. "I have something to say to you too. It can't wait."

"What is it?"

Taehyung had the undivided attention of his mother now. Admittedly, every member of his family was focused on him, waiting.

Taehyung gulped.

It was now or never.

"I'm gay."

Could it be worse?

Was telling his family about his sexual orientation the worst thing that could happen tonight?

Maybe.

It was the worst because he didn't think this through. It just happened. It was the only way he could think of to stop them from meddling with your relationship with Jungkook.

"You're what?" Taemin's jaw ticked, eyes turning dark as he turned to his third born son.

Lights will guide you home

Taehyung's heart skipped a beat. He was nervous but he didn't regret anything. He was certain that the truth would guide him towards light.

And ignite your bones

He would be free after this night.

"Taehyung..." Sin-ae held onto the head of the chair, grasping for support. She felt like she was going to faint.

This night was stressing her out so much.

"A-Are you sure? I-I..." Sin-ae swallowed hard. She was shaking. Soojin caressed her mother's hand.

"What if you're just confused? Have you dated women before—"

"Yes. I dated seven women. All didn't work out."

"B-But..." Sin-ae tried speaking again, however she trailed off.

Taehyung shrugged upon seeing her mother's expression. He continued eating his food as if nothing happened.

"Sorry it came out of blue. I didn't want to shock you, but seeing how this dinner turned out, I didn't really have a choice but to tell you."

"What do you mean by that?" Namjoon creased his forehead, he obviously didn't like what his younger brother was implying.

"Well, it seems to me that you all know about the engagement party, but you still didn't budge even when it's clear that Jungkook doesn't want to marry Soojin."

Taehyung shrugged before speaking again.

"I don't want to go through the same thing, I guess? I don't want you all to suddenly force me to marry some rich girl. But! If it's a rich guy, I might just agree—"

"Kim Taehyung!" Taemin's voice was like a thunder when he cut off what his third born son was saying.

And I will try to fix you

"Stop your nonsense right now!" Taemin shouted, as if it was going to fix something, as if shouting would suddenly change Taehyung's preference.

"Ouch, dad!" Taehyung pouted, clutching his chest. "Don't be mean. This is not nonsense. This is me telling you the truth about myself..."

The third born son was trying to joke around, thinking that it would at least calm his family.

"I like boys, dad. I let them do me—"

Taemin abruptly stood up. He was holding a table knife, ready to attack Taehyung.

"I said shut up!"

"Yeobo!" Sin-ae hugged her husband.

Seokjin and Namjoon stepped up too, protecting their brother.

"Father, you are overreacting." Seokjin said, hiding Taehyung behind him.

"My son tells me he's a faggot and you're telling me to calm down, huh, Kim Seokjin!?"

"There is nothing wrong with being gay, father. What's wrong is harming people just because of their sexuality." Namjoon said this, touching the hinge of his eyeglasses to stop it from slipping down his nose.

Taehyung's brothers never defied their father, but they would never stand still if Taemin did something to hurt any member of their family, except you. Seokjin and Namjoon didn't care about you.

"It's okay, hyung. You don't have to defend me." Taehyung smiled at his brothers before switching his gaze at Taemin.

"Tell me, father. If I don't 'stop this ‘nonsense,' what would you do to me?"

"I will disown you." Taemin snarled, pushing Sin-ae away from him. "You won't receive anything from me."

"Ah, you will disinherit me. I see..." Taehyung smiled, though his heart was breaking apart. "Okay, then. I will make things easier for you."

"Yah! Kim Taehyung, what are you talking about?" Soojin glared at her brother. She wanted to slap him. He was being stubborn!

"Well, father can't disinherit me, his legitimate heir, just because he wants to. But like what I've said, I'm gonna make it easy for him." Taehyung slightly raised his shoulders. "I'm disclaiming my inheritance. I'd rather be broke than have a homophobic father."

Taemin was about to attack Taehyung, but Sin-ae hugged him once more.

The corner of Taehyung's mouth quirked up as he placed his car keys and card on the table, a proof that he would not take anything from his father anymore.

"Don't worry. I will also pay back everything you spent on me since I was a child." Taehyung bowed down. "Thank you for everything. Goodbye."

And high up above or down below

You blinked back to reality after remembering the reason why Taehyung left his family. The way he told you that story made you feel like you were there when it happened.

But you weren't.

You were busy breaking your own heart.

When you're too in love to let it go

You went straight out of the mansion after mumbling an excuse to your family.

"Hey..." Jungkook followed you, grabbing your wrist.

"I told you not to tell them." You twisted your hand, a not so subtle way of asking him to let you go. His palm was hot, but it was causing you to shiver. You didn't want to be touched by him.

"I didn't—"

"You almost did." You snarled, becoming more frustrated as time passed. "You broke your promise to me."

"Tiger..." Jungkook called softly, trying to hold your hand again.

You walked away, as if you were too scared to stand closer to him. You were. You didn't trust yourself when you were around him. It was like you wanted to just bury your face in his neck. You knew Jungkook felt that way too, but he shouldn't. You shouldn't.

You were in the territory of the Kims. All of them wanted Jungkook to marry Soojin. They would most likely scowl if they saw you being intimate with your 'best friend.'

"I'm sorry..." He said, still following you.

You were headed to the garden of the mansion. No one really went here at night. There were just too many mosquitoes here.

"I won't break my promise again." He said softly. Jungkook was trying to catch your gaze.

You avoided it.

You couldn't look at him as you said "of course it won't happen again. You can't say something that isn't true anymore."

"What do you mean?"

But if you never try, you'll never know

"I'm breaking up with you, Jungkook."

"What?" He was breathless. Your cruel words knocked out the air out of him.

"You heard me." You said simply, still avoiding his gaze. Do not look at him or you'd break, you reminded yourself.

"Y-You're kidding, right?" And he still couldn't believe what was happening.

No. This couldn't be true. He just had you. He was just starting to show you how much he loved you. Why were you pushing him away again?

This wasn't fair.

"You're engaged, Jungkook. To my sister." You gritted your teeth, looking down at your feet. You could see a mosquito sucking your blood there. It hurt.

"You know I don't joke around when my sister's happiness is at stake—"

"What about your happiness?" Jungkook cut you off. And mine?

"I'm happy when Soojin is happy, when my family is happy."

"What about me?" His voice was so small when he asked this, like he was ashamed and hurt. "Am I not your family too?"

Your stomach churned. Your tears fell, you saw your teardrop hitting the mosquito sucking at your foot.

Your foot hurt. Your foot itches.

You were focusing on the wrong things. You complained about the wrong things.

Your heart hurt. But you didn't care.

Your foot. It itched.

Just what you're worth

"You are." You blurted out after a few moments of silence. Would it feel good to scratch your foot?

"That's why I'm ending this. I don't want to hurt you any further..."

You're not hurting me Jungkook was about to say this. You didn't give him a chance to speak though.

"I can't love you, Kook..."

Lights will guide you home

They said lights would guide someone home. Lights helped people see. It helped them so that they wouldn't stumble in the darkness, into something they couldn't possibly fight.

For the longest time, Jungkook believed this. He thought you were his light, guiding him—leading him towards home.

Home was supposed to be safe and it should bring comfort—this was what Jungkook longed. A home.

And ignite your bones

A home full of love, laughter—just things that would ignite his bones, that would make him thank the Maker for giving him life.

"Why not?" Jungkook managed to ask even though he was breaking inside.

All he could think about was your cruel words.

I can't love you, Kook...

It meant he was hard to love, right? He was hard to love despite the fact that he was trying his best. He was good. So good—too good, but it wasn't enough.

There was no home to come to.

Your foot still itches.

"Because I'm broken." You were stupid to think that you could fill his heart with love.

Love didn't work like that.

Jungkook shook his head violently. He knew you didn't want him to touch you, but he did.

He couldn't stop himself.

He took your face into his hands, feeling your skin. He was touching you like he was making sure you were real.

"And you can't love someone when you're broken."

His response was instant.

"Then let me try to fix you." He said this as if it was easy.

You cackled. This was better than sobbing.

"Too bad..." You finally had the courage to meet his gaze. You looked at him dead in the eyes, saying this: "Because I don't want to be fixed."

Jungkook was right.

You were his light.

You were his light, but you weren't going to guide him home.

You were the light that was going to blind him.

"Goodbye, Jungkook." You smiled.

And then you walked away.

This time Jungkook didn't follow you, but aside from this nothing else changed—well except that you weren't looking down anymore.

You looked up, remembering that when you kissed Jungkook for the first time, the moon and the stars were there to witness it.

The moon and the stars were still here.

This time they witnessed how you broke Jungkook's heart.

Damn. Your foot still itches.

#jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #ficswithluv #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #armywriterssupport #jungkook x you #bts fic

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sicjimin · 3 years

Text

🍳 Get the Egg Away 🍳

A.N : based on anon's idea few days ago about pregnant yoongi. A little bit angst but i dont know .. if this good enough .. since im suck at writing angst or something with plot shsjshss i hope you like it. Sorry for keep filling you with mpreg stories :") (i know the title is lame)

TW : emeto, graphic description of vomiting, mpreg

"What kind of demon possessed you this morning?", Yoongi asks, his brow furrowed and his hand busy rubbing his stomach that now has become prominent with his 5 months pregnancy. He sits on the counter, resting his head on his palm, looking at Namjoon that currently in a war with the pan. Yoongi giggles.

"What are you laughing about? I could have been cursed.", Namjoon says as he flips the pan over, the flames from the stove almost making him flinch away but he manages to hold it together, "but I wasn't."

"I tried to be a good husband", Namjoon says, smiling in satisfaction when he sees the egg looks decent. He lifts it up, placed it on the toast with bacon along with strawberry jam and butter too- Hobi's recipe that he grows fond of.

He grins once he finished the plating, slides it in front of his boyfriend, "Here, your breakfast. Made specially by me"

Out of every expression he was expecting from Yoongi, scrunching his face with disgust definitely is not on the list.

"Egg?", Yoongi asks with disbelief while looking down at the plate. Namjoon frowns at the tone.

" Yes? Is there anything wrong?"

Yoongi doesn't say a word, but he can see the look in his eyes. obvious Yoongi is pissed. Namjoon doesn't know what he did wrong to cause such a reaction out of his boyfriend.

He wants to apologize immediately, but his pride was holding him back. "You dont want to eat that?"

"No", Yoongi pulls the plate away again.

Now. Namjoon is pissed.

"I know i'm not a good cooker, like you, but what's wrong with that? Is me cooking for you is that bad?" Namjoon tries to defend himself, to reason with Yoongi.

But that doesn't work.

"Joon, I don't want eggs."

Namjoon looks at him. A deep frown on his lips. Yoongi never refuses an egg and always eats them before anyone else.

"What? Why?'

Yoongi huffs, " I just not ! I think i have told you thousand times before that i can't eat eggs?"

"I would've remembered if you told me. When is it?"

"You know, 2 days ago. I threw up after eating our ramen that had egg in there!", Yoongi says, voice slightly raised and Namjoon frown again, " You throw up nearly everyday and every time hyung. How am i supposed to know that it the eggs that makes you sick?", he asks and Yoongi shakes his head in defeat. "You should've known if you care about me", he pouts now. Fiddling with his sweater. Namjoon would coos at the sight right now, Yoongi's chubby cheeks, his little bump that drowns in his fluffy baby blue sweater, and the pink lips that forming a pout ... Gosh. His boyfriend is too adorable for his good — if he's not fuming with emotion right now.

Namjoon scoffs, " You're not making any sense now, Yoongi"

And that makes his boyfriend snap his head, "It's still hyung for you, Joon-ah", he points out, " And what's not make any sense? I just say that i cant eat eggs! It's making me nauseous. Why you had to make it as a big deal?"

"Well, maybe because i wake up early to prepare this and because of the egg you refused to eat it?", Namjoon ran his fingers through his blonde hair, looking at everywhere else but Yoongi as he knows he would just forget everything and apologize if he sees the older. " I can't believe we argue about the egg. Pregnancy really make you more irritable, hyung"

"Is that what you think? Me? Irritable and annoying?", Namjoon turns his gaze immediately after he registers what he just said. There is Yoongi, looking at him with tears covering his orbs.

Fuck, Namjoon, you're so stupid-

" No no hyung that whats i mean-", Namjoon stammered, moving his way to the other side of the counter, wanting to hug his boyfriend but Yoongi swatted his hand, "Then what am i suppose to take that sentence? I hear you loud and clear. Glad to know what you've been thinking this whole time", Yoongi said through his teeth, wiping his tears with the back of his hands, sniffling.

Fuck, fuck, fuck! Now Namjoon feels even worse. Why was it this hard?

" Hyung", he says, trying to get closer, reaching out and grabbing Yoongi's hand to bring it into his lap. But instead, the older reach out for the plate and take a mouthful of it, "Thank you for breakfast. You should eat, we gonna be late"

"Hyung .. you shouldn't eat it if that makes you nauseous", Namjoon tells, his voice small and scared as he watches the elder slowly chewing on what he had in his mouth.

"I don't care if i vomit or something" Yoongi shrugs, taking another bite.

"But it might upset your baby—"

"You were mad at me earlier because i dont want to eat it, now you tell me not to, what do you want, Joon-ah?", Yoongi sighs.

The words are out of Namjoon's mouth. So he just stares quietly as Yoongi takes more.

" Stop staring at me and have your breakfast, Joonie"

And then the only sound of fork and knife surrounding them. Namjoon still can't tear his gaze from the older. He noticed how Yoongi could take a moment before swallowing. The hesitation everytime he gonna lift his fork, and how he takes a long time to chew. He even noticed when Yoongi's body jolts a little with quiet gag.

"You don't have to finish it hyung", Namjoon voices breaking Yoongi's nauseated haze. He hates seeing his boyfriend in pain, he doesn't want him to feel any. Yoongi shook his head as soon as he heard that.

"You made it, so i'll eat it".

He took another gulp.

A couple of minutes pass with both of them silent.

Yoongi finishes first.

He places the empty plate on the sink, before he stood up and leave for their shared bedroom, " I will get ready"

Namjoon nods softly, quickly to finish his food too before heading upstairs.

Namjoon's eyes widen once he opened their bedroom door. He can't found Yoongi anywhere, but there's a sound from the bathroom. He walks there, standing silently. His heart skipped a beat when he heard a small gag, then followed by a rush of liquid filling the bowl. Yoongi is vomiting.

He didn't bother to knock as he turns the handle.

Yoongi's eyes were screwed shut, hands wrapped around the rim of the bowl as he puked until the last bit came out. Namjoon steps further inside, looking at his boyfriend who now laid his head onto the toilet seat, eyes closed and breathing heavily.

"Are you okay?"

Yoongi shakes his head, before he groans and lifts himself again. His shoulder rolls as he belched into the bowl, more of brown vomit spilling from his lips. Yoongi's face is flushed red, his eyes are red as well, and his hair is damp because of sweat.

Namjoon approaches Yoongi, sitting beside him while rubbing circles on Yoongi's back with a comforting palm.

"You're doing great baby, let it out"

And Yoongi does. He continues emptying the contents of his stomach, gasping between his breaths with his nose scrunched up as he could register the toast he just ate, barely disgested, floating on the murky water below him. And the taste that lingers on his tongue only makes everything worst. His stomach twist, his head spins and he couldn't hold back the urge to vomit again.

"Your egg—uuurrkkkk", Yoongi manages to spit before turning his head. But the action caused the sick feeling to worsen and Yoongi pukes again.

" I know, i'm sorry, just finish it first hyung", Namjoon whispers.

When Yoongi is done throwing up. Namjoon helps him wipe his mouth with a wet towel and wipes his face with the same cloth.

"Are you feeling better?", Namjoon asks while he helped him lie down, Yoongi groaning as he did, letting himself rest on the soft mattress. His back aches after hunching over the toilet for a long time. His stomach is sore, and the baby keeps kicking there just adding more to the discomfort he felt. Then his argument that causing him to throw up earlier with Namjoon showing up.

Yoongi nods before placing a hand on his abdomen and rub soothingly, ducking his head down as he felt his emotion starts rising. Tears stinging behind his eyes, and before he knows, he sobs.

" Hey hey, baby, why are you crying?", Namjoon sits down next to his lover, hugging Yoongi close and letting the older cry against his chest. Yoongi clings onto him tightly, sobbing. " I'm sorry, hyung. I just didn't mean to make you sick, i swear."

"Everything feels horrible", Yoongi hiccups. He didn't care if his words come out slurred, " My stomach sore, the baby keeps kicking and making me nauseous, my back aches so bad and so is my feet, and your damn egg-", he rants in between sobs. Namjoon hushed him gently, rubbing his arm and kissing his crown.

"Shh, shh, i'm sorry hyung", Namjoon kisses the top of his boyfriend's head. And he continued holding him. Yoongi finally lets go of him with his tears dripping on Namjoon's shirt.

" Can we ...", Yoongi sniffles again, and it sounds like his throat hurts.

"... stay at home today? .."

Namjoon looks at him, "What?".

" I don't want to go anywhere. Now I've thrown up once, i know I will throw up more since my stomach still queasy", Yoongi mumbles.

" Okay", Namjoon answers immediately, " We can stay at home. Do you want anything?"

"No", Yoongi shuffles, getting comfortable on the bed, " but .. your baby kinda misses you. Can you stop making them kicking me?"

Namjoon looks at him, confused. "And how do i do that?"

Yoongi takes his wrist, slides his sweater up so it showed his bump, and placing Namjoon's palms there, motioning it against his skin, "Like that"

Namjoon laughs, "Just say you want me to rub your tummy and go"

"There's a baby now!", Yoongi pouts.

"Stop pouting or i will kiss you"

"I still taste like puke", Yoongi whines.

"Okay fine", Namjoon chuckles, " Your stomach grumbles loudly though. I can sense some kicking too", he says after a while.

"I know. It makes me nauseous when the baby moving a lot", Yoongi huffs in annoyance.

Namjoon giggles at his reaction, "It's nice to hear you complaining. I love you"

"Hnngg", Yoongi replies, "Don't you say i'm irritable?", he teases. Namjoon's face immediately falls, " I'm sorry hyung, I didn't mean that"

"I was teasing you Joonie", Yoongi smiles at him.

He brings him closer, "I know i become more annoying as im pregnant. But i can't help it, my mood control me most of the time"

"I know, i love you. I really didn't see it as anything annoying, but more too adorable. Seeing you pouts every time you complain", Namjoon grins, leaning forward to steal a kiss. Gaining gasps from the older, before his face scrunched and he clamping his mouth as he suddenly gagging.

" Joon-ah, trashcan. Now", Yoongi groaned.

Namjoon gets up from the bed and grabs the trashcan, walking back to Yoongi, placing it on the older laps as the silver-haired boy immediately hunching over it. Heaving trickle of bile and saliva as he still empty, haven't eaten anything yet.

Namjoon staring at him, "Why are you suddenly nauseous?"

A gag escaping his parted lips and a few seconds later Yoongi vomits again. "Your lips-", he chokes out before another bile making him jolts forward, "-it taste like eggs"

Namjoon stares at him, mouth agape. His eyes widened, "Gosh, you really hate eggs now?"

Yoongi pukes, before he nods and sniffles. Lifting his head a bit when his stomach calmed down, "I told you"

×××

"What did you cook now?", Yoongi greets his boyfriend that already busy in the kitchen, again, the next morning.

" Pancake", Namjoon says, gaining a hum from Yoongi as he propped himself on the counter.

Yoongi squints his eyes when he sees something different on their fridge. A sticky note.

He steps down from his seat, and walks -more like waddles- to there, taking the sticky notes.

"What is it, Joon?", he asks. Not aware how fast Namjoon turns his body and blush covering his cheeks.

" Shit, you're not supposed to see that"

Yoongi laughs, his shoulder shakes, "Seriously, Joonie? " Don't cook eggs. Yoongi hates eggs. Eggs ❌" ?"

Namjoon groans, taking the notes from Yoongi that still chuckling. "I just dont want to make you accidentally sick again"

"Oohh, you're down bad for me Joon-ah"

Namjoon rolls his eyes, "Shut up hyung"

#bts sickfic #bts emeto #tw emeto #tw vomit #sick!yoongi #caretaker!namjoon #and again another mpreg fic

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dreamescapeswriting · 3 years

Text

One Summer in Paris - Unravel ~ JJK

WORD COUNT: 3.4K

GENRE: Fluffy, romance, ex-lovers to lovers,

PAIRING: Jungkook x Fem!Reader

DESCRIPTION: Jeon Jungkook had always loved Paris with its amazing views, incredible museums and the small Bookshop right across from the Effiel Tower. It was were he spent a lot of his summer breaks as a kid so he loved it well into his adulthood. There was one bookshop he rented a room in the summer that changed his life. It was a place where he felt happy and at peace whenever he had the chance to stay there. Where he fell in love for the first time and had his first heartbreak, a lot of firsts for him were in Paris. But what happens when he goes back to the same book shop four years later and finds the love of his life in the arms of another with a daughter who looks suspiciously like him…

THEMES: Single Parent, Jungkook x Fem!Reader, self insert, Smut will be included in a later chapter

MASTERLIST || PREVIOUS || NEXT

Your daughter was yelling happily while Jungkook chased her around the apartment with a "scary" mask on. He'd gotten it after the horror ride you'd been on the night of the fair two nights ago and Areum was convinced she wasn't scared of it so Jungkook decided to test it.

"Careful guys I don't want you-" You tried to tell them but it was too late, a crash sounded from the kitchen and you glanced over to see them standing over a frying pan that was on the floor, along with a spatula, a broken plate and a mug.

"-Break something," You finished speaking as you got up from the sofa, you were about to go and clean it when the door to the shop began to buzz, your eyes looked at the clock on the wall. It was 8 am meaning it was time for the deliveries to come in, you'd been so lost you'd completely forgotten you were supposed to open up the shop and accept the delivery.

"Oh shit!" You screamed rushing to grab your keys and head to the shop. You pulled a cardigan around your body since you were dressed in your PJ's from the night before. Jungkook frowned watching you go as he held onto Areum from behind.

"It's Wednesday, she's been so happy this weekend she's not realised it's delivery day," Areum whispered to him as she looked up to see her father so confused over why you were rushing around so much. It was true, Jungkook had decided to stay the last couple of days with you and your daughter to get to know her better and it flew by so quickly. From Sunday until today, the time had been moving so quickly you'd barely even noticed. You had someone else manning the shop whenever they could so you could spend almost all of your time with them it almost felt like he'd never left, it felt too good to be true whenever he was with you both.

"You think she's happy I'm here?" Jungkooked quizzed picking Areum up and putting her on his hip so that she wouldn't end up hurting herself on the broken glass. Areum then began shaking her head as she stared at her father in the eyes with a serious look across her face.

"I don't think, I know. She has that giant smile on her face like Anna does with Kristoff or Eric with Ariel." He chuckled at his daughter's ideas of what you looked like when you smiled and began walking down the stairs with his daughter. He was going to leave her with you while he cleaned up only to see you accepting a bunch of boxes off a younger man who was staring at you. Jealously began to bubble in Jungkook at the thought of someone else coming along now. David had just been kicked out of the picture and now someone else was trying to come into your life.

"I heard you and David broke up..." Josh said slowly looking at you as you signed the papers in your hand, you simply hummed at him not wanting to get into the conversation with someone who had no idea what was going on in your life. Josh had always been that kind boy that came in and out of the shop but sometimes he was too noisy for his own good.

"He disrespected someone I care a lot about," Jungkook stared at the back of your head feeling the jealously inside of him begin to melt as he realised that "someone" you cared about was him. Areum began to wiggle out of his grasp and then sprinted over to the delivery boy.

"Uncle Josh!" She began sprinting over to Josh who knelt down holding out both of his hands face down and curled into balls, Jungkook frowned as he watched the exchange between them both.

"Pick one," She stared up at the boy who couldn't have been any older than 20 and she pointed at his left fist, he turned it to reveal three lollipops and a bag of small sweets.

"Thanks, Josh, it'll keep her occupied while I work through this lot." You laughed softly as she began to struggle opening the small bag of sweets, Jungkook was about to step forward and assist her when the door to the shop opened and Grace walked into the shop. There was a nasty look on her face as she started shaking her head at you as she mumbled something about David, Jungkook could tell she wasn't impressed with what had unfolded a few nights before.

"Bye Josh, I'll see you next week." He walked out not wanting to feel the wrath from Grace when she was in a bad mood it was best to stay out of her way but you'd been the one to cause this issue so you couldn't exactly run away from all of this.

"Jungkook can you take Areum somewhere for the day? I have deliveries to fix and Grace will be in a bad mood all day. It's better if you two get out for a while." You went to reach for your purse but he held his hand up promising that it was his treat. He'd already had it in his head where he was going to take Areum, he wanted her to see why he loved Paris so much, except for you of course since she'd already seen you for her whole life. He wanted to make her fall in love with Paris the same way he did when he was younger, even if she was a little young you were never too young to learn and love all things art. Namjoon always told him there was never a wrong age to start teaching someone the values of art.

"I was going to clean up the glass and stuff upstairs," He told you as he picked Areum up and threw her over his shoulder as though she was nothing but a doll to him.

"Thanks," You whispered in relief thinking it was one less thing that you had to worry about today. As soon as your back was turned Jungkook hurried up the stairs with your daughter and into your apartment.

"We'll swing by my hotel room so I can change and then I'll take you everywhere I can." He said as she pulled him into her room going over to the wardrobe,

"Pick something for me," She whined out with a pout on her lips. Jungkook took out his phone sending a bunch of options to Taehyung since he was the one with the best style but instead of texting back he simple video called Jungkook. Panic washed over Jungkook as he realised he hadn't exactly told the boys yet that he knew he had a daughter so now he was going to be stuck between a rock and a hard place. He answered the call and Taehyung began talking right away,

"Why do you have girls-" Taehyung stopped himself when he saw the small Jungkook look-alike sitting behind Jungkook on the bed. The boys all knew he was in Paris by now and it didn't take a genius to put two and two together. They knew about the love he had for you in Paris, how he'd been away for four years so it was simple math to work out.

"Y/n had-" He started but couldn't finish,

"Yes..." Jungkook already knew what was coming so he braced himself for the sudden yelling that would be filling the air.

"I'm an uncle!" Taehyung cried out loudly enough that Yeontan jumped up from the space behind him.

"Yep," Taehyung began to tear up as he looked at the young girl realising that she was the spitting image of Jungkook.

"Dad, who's this?" Areum questioned staring into the phone at Taehyung who was already tearing up but now fully crying as he heard her call him dad. Taehyung's mind was racing with questions about how long Jungkook had known about this, what was going to happen to know that he was seeing his daughter.

"I need a moment!" The phone was placed down to face the ceiling and soon Jimin's head popped into the frame ready to question what was happening since he'd just seen Taehyung crying. But as soon as he saw Areum his eyes widened and he stared up in the room.

"NAMJOON!" He screamed making Jungkook groan out he just wanted fashion advice, not a lecture from Namjoon about this and how it could be bad news.

"She's yours? Did you know? Are you sure?" Jungkook sighed not wanting to get into this right now when he was trying to spend time with Areum. It was very clear that Areum was his from the look of them.

"I didn't know until I got here...I'm being careful, no one has seen me and I'll call our manager later and straighten things out-" Jungkook tried to explain but Namjoon cut him off shortly,

"Is she after money?" Jungkook's stomach flipped to anger as Namjoon questioned you like that, you'd never wanted anything from Jungkook. You hated when he used to pay for your food so you doubted you wanted something else from him. Especially since you hadn't even reached out to tell Jungkook that you were pregnant after he left you.

"She's not like that, Areum and Y/n don't need help." Areum looked at the screen and Namjoon felt his heart swell at the sight of her, she was a ringer for Jungkook it was clear he was her father.

"Be careful, I'll talk to Manager Sejin first and I'll probably come out to see you-"

"We all will!" Taehyung sobbed out as he cut Namjoon short. He came back onto the screen advising what Areum should wear, deciding on a red poodle skirt, with a white and black striped shirt.

"Does she have a beret?" Taehyung asked as he stared at Jungkook who seemed a little lost on what a beret actually was so Areum handed him one of hers. Jungkook held up a black on and Taehyung nodded clapping his hands together.

"She'll look great, I have to go...Jimin's crying now." Jungkook laughed turning to Areum who told him to wait,

"Goodbye Uncle Taehyung!" Another choked sob left Taehyung as he turned to go and comfort a crying Jimin Jungkook started laughing and helping Areum change into her outfit.

"Grace please I'm an adult who can make her own decisions, David was an arse-" You were going to call him an Arsehole when the tiny sound of your daughter running down the stairs made you stop speaking altogether.

"MUMMY!" You turned to see Areum racing towards you in her outfit, twirling around as she showed you her plaited hair that Jungkook had done for her. With the help of a youtube video and your daughter telling him how to do it with which strand of hair.

"Uncle Taehyung picked out my outfit," Your heart sank as you looked up at Jungkook, they knew she existed now? Were you supposed to be happy about that? Your heart was torn at yelling him for showing her off but then you thought about how close he and the boys were, you'd seen it on the videos you'd watched of them together. He probably had to tell them sooner or later and it was better they found out while they weren't in Paris.

"I'm going to take her to my hotel so I can change and then we'll be out of your hair for the day." You thanked him again for it and Areum began pulling him towards the doors wanting to get on with her adventures with her father.

"As I was saying, I'm an adult Grace I can make decisions by myself-" You tried to start again but Grace wasn't going to stand for it. She slammed her walking stick down onto the ground as she stared up at you, an angry look written across her face.

"Really? Because ever since he showed back up you've been acting like a teenager in love all over again," You stared at her as she picked up her walking stick from the floor as she tried to make her way out of the shop, you went to steady out your hands for her but she slapped them away.

"Grace Jungkook is her father-"

"And you're still in love with him, you will make rash decisions when it comes to him I know but you have to think it through. Is he really what's best for you and Areum or are you just living out your fantasy life?" The question hurt more than you probably thought she meant it to and she walked out as you stared at the floor. Tears rushing to your eyes as you realised she was right you were hopelessly still in love with Jungkook, there was nothing in this world that could make you not love him and you knew that he had influence over everything you did. Maybe it was one of the reasons you never left Paris because you knew he'd come back one day.

"Shit," You mumbled hearing the door to the shop open you brushed the tears off your face and headed out to see a small girl in a black hoodie, she was looking around as if she was hunting for something.

"Bonjour-" You could already tell by the look on her face that she was confused with French so you switched to English quickly to make it easier for her.

"Hi! Welcome to Grace's, can I help you with anything?" You questioned sweetly trying to act as though you hadn't just been crying, she looked at you and then around the shop again as if she was looking for someone else to be there.

"I lost my sister, I thought maybe she might have come here...She's about four years old and she's with her dad," You sighed sadly as you looked at her,

"I haven't seen her, want me to call someone for you? Maybe your mum? Or your dad?" You turned your back on her to reach for your phone but when you turned back around she was walking out of the door, attached to her bag was a pinky bunny you knew too well. Cooky. It had to have been a coincidence, no one knew he was here...He was always so careful. But the thought of her saying a four-year-old girl with her dad lingered in your mind.

Areum was holding onto Jungkok tightly as he pulled her through the crowds of people surrounding them. It had been such a peaceful morning which was now ruined by everyone screaming at them.

"Who is the little girl!? Is she your daughter?!" It was a mixture of both reporters and fans who were all crowding around Jungkook and demanded answers from him but he picked Areum up not wanting her to get lost in the crowd. He clutched onto her tightly, ducking his head down as they made their way out.

"Come on-" He whispered to her as he tried to move as quickly as he could without hurting her or anyone else around them.

"What's going on daddy?" He held her close to his chest rushing out of the Louvre and down the roads towards some cabs that were waiting, he paid them extra to run around for a bit just to lose everyone that was chasing after him.He didn't even know where to begin explaining this all to Areum so he ignored her questioning, telling her it was just a misunderstanding.

The door to the shop burst open, Jungkook was panting heavily with Areum by his side. She'd lost her small beret and had a scared look across her face.

"W-What's going on?" He passed Areum to you as he turned to lock the door with your key, your eyes travelled behind him to see an army of reporters and fans rushing towards the shop. The girl that had been there that morning was with them, you panicked looking back at Jungkook.

"Upstairs, quick!" Areum rushed towards the staircase, crying heavily as she ran into the apartment. You shut the door to the shop locking it as quickly as you could before rushing to join Jungkook and Areum upstairs.

"What happened? Why is Areum crying?" She sprinted into her room as she slammed the door behind her, you turned to look at Jungkook who already looked terrified of the fact that you were angry with him. The fact that your daughter was crying and ignoring you killed you inside, you'd always been close to one another and told each other everything that was bothering you.

"You told me you'd be careful! How did they find you? Is this why there was a fangirl in here earlier?!" He went to reach out to take your hands to calm you down but being calm out of the picture completely. You were completely and utterly mad with Jungkook for being stupid enough to get caught. The whole time you'd been together four years ago you'd never once been spotted together.

"She's four, she's not going to understand why people are crowding around her-" There was shouting coming from outside the balcony door, you walked over to shut it looking down at the crowds of people demanding answers from Jungkook just like you were but unlike them. You deserved the answers. You deserved to know how he'd gotten caught and what he planned to do about it now that it was out in the open.

"I was walking around Louvre with her, someone must have spotted me because one by one people kept coming up until there was a crowd of them. I got Areum out as soon as I could, I didn't let her get close to anyone." Your eyes rolled back as you thought about him doing something like this, being so careless when there was a child involved and it was his child.

"I told you to be careful, I should have known this would happen! She's a child!" You yelled out as you threw your hands up in the air,

"Fuck what was I thinking on letting you get this close to her?!" You screamed falling down on the sofa you placed your head in your hands as you stared up at him.

"I have every right to be in her life, be close to her. They're apart of my life out there-"

"Well, what if I don't want that part of it to be in her life! This is exactly why I didn't tell you when I knew I was pregnant!" He froze in place as the words left your mouth. Your heart broke as soon as you saw the look on his face, it looked as though someone had just kicked a puppy right in front of him.

"You knew you were pregnant when I was leaving?" You nodded at him finding no reason to lie to him now, it was true the day he left you knew and you were planning on telling him you were pregnant until everything about his life came undone. Revealing who he was and how he'd been hiding from you the entire summer. That fight was still clear in your head as though you'd had it just yesterday.

"You knew and you didn't tell me?!" You stared at him shaking your head it wasn't any of his business anymore. If you knew or not he hid something from you too. There wasn't a big deal.

"I don't want you near Areum anymore...You need to leave, you can go out of the back door to avoid the media circus but you're not-" You went to tell him he wasn't allowed to see her anymore when he cut you off.

"I'll take you to court! You can't keep her from me, she's my daughter too!" You ignored him staring down at the table as you waited for him to leave, he groaned slamming the door behind him as he walked out. Slamming the rest of the doors as he left. Areum was still locked in her room crying heavily,

"A-Areum. I'll be upstairs okay?" She said nothing in response to you except for a broken cry so you walked over to your door going up to the apartment above you and heading inside. Everything was still the same as it was before. Everything still reminded you of him and your time you spent together there, you sunk to the floor bringing your knees into your chest as you started to cry.

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Tagline: @lyoongx @mitzwinchester @rjsmochii @fan-ati--c @kneel-begyourpardon @taestannie @bisexualmess007 @innersooya @sw33tnight @sweeneyblue1 @jin-from-the-block @neverthefirstchoice @jikooksgirl19 @jungkooksseuphoria @queenmasterxx @oosnapitskat @janieooo @preciouschimine @koremis @keijilovebot @silscintilla @mayafravoli

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oftenderweapons · 4 years

Text

The Studio - Namjoon

Pairing: Namjoon x reader (nicknamed Vixen)

Wordcount: 9.7k words

Genre: smut, angst, fluff

Rating: 18+

I told you I’d be back really soon ;) Tonight there’s a lot on schedule! I’ve been working on this piece for two weeks, since it carries a lot for both Namjoon and Vixen, emotionally speaking. It means a lot for me too, since to me it was truly a challenge in terms of the different levels of knowledge that Joon, y/n and the narrator hold. I think I’ve grown a lot in terms of writing even from Tiktok Towel Trick, which I wrote last May, but I’m really proud of myself comparing to what I used to produce a couple years ago.

Now, let me introduce this fic. The piece takes place two or three months after the two have started sleeping together (ideally late January or February). In this piece Vixen visits Joon at the studio after a bad fight and Joon’s self-imposed isolation. The two feel like they’ve come to a dead-end as they wait for the other person to cut ties. Namjoon is suffocated by his job, his tendency to lash out at his closest ones when he’s stressed and his previous traumas; Vixen is locked in her head, shut out by Namjoon and repeatedly accused of infidelity, as a sign of Namjoon’s lack of trust. Will the two manage to work things out?

Description and trigger warnings: The piece was written referring to Namjoon’s Rkive as in his vlive log. There is ANGST. Loads. There is some crying and it is not Vixen’s. Longing and miscommunication. In terms of filth: so much dirty talking the walls exude holy water by now. Unprotected sex (STAY SAFE GUYS!!!!!!!!), DDLG/daddy kink, Masturbation paired up with Voyeurism and Exhibitionism, Fetishism (Shoes, tights and lingerie), Oral (female receiving), Cumplay (eating), Marking, Spanking, Angsty doggy fucking followed by a very soft ride on the sofa. That should be all. Fluff alarm: Namjoon doesn’t want to lose his little fox and Vixen just wants to cuddle her big teddy bear Joon.

Wordcount: 9.7k

Here is my masterlist

Enjoy!!!

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Standing in the main corridor of the studios felt very strange. You looked around, uncomfortable, while the receptionist at your side stared at you, waiting. "Don't worry, he's busy all the time. We can wait, no big deal." The fact that you'd been greeted by Namjoon's driver at the entry desk had helped you get to the studios unannounced. "That boy always gets caught up on something. He shouldn't make you wait." He tutted, looking at you with a kind smile.

"____? What are you doing here?" Taehyung smiled at you brightly, close behind him Hoseok and Yoongi approached with heavy-looking bags on them.

"Oh, hi. I sort of stopped by for Namjoon." You bit your lip, smiling embarrassedly.

"He's still in his room. I can show you the way." Taehyung said, grinning.

Yoongi seemed to be observing him closely while Hoseok looked absolutely oblivious.

"No, I only have to give him this." You showed them two small bags, one containing food and the other a few things he had left at your place.

You tried not to let your heartbreak show.

"Maybe you could bring them to him, I don't want to distract him."

You smiled but you felt the tears welling up.

Yoongi's glance moved to you. It felt scorching. "I think you should bring those to him. I think he'd like to see you." His serious tone made you realise that maybe he did know what was happening. Maybe he did know better.

"I think he'd rather not see me right now." Your lips tightened in a thin line.

Both the guys turned to Yoongi. "Go, I'll see you tomorrow."

They both patted him on the shoulder and waved at you, Taehyung hugging you close. "It'll be alright. I'll see you."

Taehyung smiled at you, his cute cheeks popping upwards. Maybe it had to do with the fact that you had just granted him an exclusive piece by one of his favourite photographers. Maybe he was just friendly, maybe he simply liked you because he deemed you a decent human being.

Right at his heels, Hoseok gave you a cute wave, saying bye-bye in a cartoonish voice.

Beside you, Yoongi shook his head, still sporting a fond smile. "Uhm, I never know whether I should introduce myself. Anyway, we've never met before, so– I'm Yoongi. " He said with a tiny smile, his cheeks jumping upwards.

You introduced yourself with a small bow.

"You are just like he described you. He talks about you a lot." He commented. You blushed, almost feeling like dissolving into thin air. You never thought you would meet his friends like this.

Yoongi looked at your face. "You're exactly his type — in the best way possible." He blushed. "Let's go." He said, leading you. "I actually want to say a few things." He threw his bag on the floor, getting comfortable on the sofa in the common room. "How are you doing?"

You stared at your feet. "Decent enough."

"I'll be honest, ____. He hasn't been doing good. Not even decent, in my opinion." Yoongi announced, as if trying to prepare you for what you were going to see. "I feel like telling you a couple things about him. He can be hot-headed, and an absolute pain in the ass. He is a perfectionist, and a terrifically clumsy one at that." Yoongi huffed out. "He holds himself to extremely high standards and punishes himself whenever he feels like he's not delivering. And he has the horrible tendency to lash out when he's stressed. He just takes it all out on those who are closest to him." Yoongi patted the spot at his side, inviting you to sit. "I'll be inappropriate, maybe, but I have to say it. You don't have to stay at his side."

The sentence was like a slap to your face. It had never come to your mind to part ways with him.

"You don't have to put yourself through his tempers and tantrums. You need to be ready to handle those emotionally. If you aren't, I don't think you'll be able to go for the long run." Yoongi looked at you in the eye. "Sorry if I overstepped, usually people come to me to talk, I'm not used to giving unsolicited advice." He blushed and laced his fingers together, laying them on his thighs.

"I don't want to let go of him, Yoongi." You confessed.

"Then you should go bring this stuff to him in person. And remember, you don't have to be his therapist. If you want, you can be his partner, walk by his side, but it's not your duty to carry him." The man was incredibly smart and thoughtful. And sensitive. The more you got to know him, the more you understood Namjoon's adoration for him.

"Thank you so much." You bowed your head briefly, placing your palm on top of his hands.

He moved one on top of yours, patting gently. "Let's go find your grumpy bear, uh?"

With a groaned "aigoo" He pushed himself up, standing on his feet like an old man before bending to catch the strap of his bag. "This way."

He led you through the winding corridors until you recognised the door to Namjoon's studio. "Go on. Knock politely and be smart. Discuss. Negotiate. Compromise. And be kind to each other." He gave you the official salute and left.

You found yourself staring at the door, wondering if he'd roar at you for interrupting him.

The room sounded quiet.

You counted to three. Knocked.

"Come in." Said his voice with a weak rumble. He was probably distracted.

His studio was warm and welcoming, if a bit clustered. The lights were low and yellowy, coming from his desk and contrasting with the white gleam of his computer screen, still you could see everything perfectly in the slight penumbra, your eyes perusing your surroundings. It was easy to see why his apartment felt like a hotel room: he barely spent time there while this place really felt like home. It felt like stepping into his soul. Small sculptures and toys and collectibles were neatly lined in his bookcase together with some books. Then the baby shoes. Art catalogues. Candles. Art. A drape too big for the wall, but still there, a painting, probably from Yoongi, since you vaguely recognised his style. On the back wall, you noticed two drapes embroidered in traditional patterns. The floor was covered in thick cream carpets with geometric prints that reminded you of tribal symbols. And sweet lord, that was his wooden, swoon-worthy, customised low table, matching with the piece by the door holding one of his bonsai. A comfy couch with a fluffy, warm blanket, and embroidered pillows. You were mesmerised. You didn't have time to take it all in, your glance running from the upright piano to the microphone standing beside his chair. He didn't turn around, he kept staring at the screen, typing every now and then. His beautiful desk was crowded with stationery, electronic devices, a keyboard and all kinds of knicknacks.

"What is– oh. Hi." His expression was ice-cold.

"Hi. I was passing by, I wanted to bring you some stuff you'd left at mine."

His heart froze. This is the end then.

He'd been avoiding it for almost two weeks, hiding from you in his studio, even though the only things he could write were heartbreaking blue rhymes that had Jimin and Jeongguk exchanging pitying glances.

The beginning of this tragedy was almost comedic in its stupid futility. It was just him incapable of perfecting a pre-chorus. A dumb verse or something. He had called you, talked it out but apparently all he did was just turn down your ideas and suggestions, snapping at you until you exhaustedly told him that you were tired and needed some sleep. He took that as you umpteenth sign that you didn't care about him — which you both knew was entirely wrong — and caused a huge fight which ended on you telling him to go fuck himself, at which he unceremoniously replied that he was okay with that since you were clearly already fucking someone else.

You didn't bother correcting him, since no matter how many times you told him, he always seemed to get back at you being unfaithful and uncaring. You were done justifying yourself, apologising for things you had never done.

"Uhm. I also brought you some food. I didn't know if you had already eaten."

He looked at you like you had finally lit a candle in a dark and cold room.

Your heart broke some more. You asked yourself if there was any more breaking to do, at this point.

You figured there was the moment you heard his hoarse voice speak. "Let's eat together."

You didn't have the guts to deny him.

You laid the bags on the small table and took off your coat. He stood on his feet immediately, crossing the room in a few broad steps and hugging you to his chest.

Let it hurt. You told yourself. It heals faster like that.

His palms settled at your waist and his eyes closed. He breathed you in. He had never felt something really end. His exes were like a song slowly slipping into a diminuendo until they became silence. His interest burned out, his curiosity simply died down and the feelings never seemed to grow fully. They felt like a balloon which was never supposed to be blown that big. This thing with you was like a song being stopped mid-chorus, silence biting in where it wasn't supposed to be. Is this what the end feels like? He asked himself as he held you tighter, one of his hands climbing up and burrowing into your hair. He pressed your face into his chest, where his heartbeat was so strong and so loud that you asked yourself if you could somehow amplify it, if your body could register it and replay it once you were alone in your bed, mourning over this. "You feel taller." He said, noticing how your forehead reached his lips instead of slotting under his jaw.

"I still have my heels on." You replied.

"Wanna take 'em off?" He asked.

You shook your head. "No, if that's not a problem.

He breathed out heavily. He interpreted your refusal as a sign that first, you were keeping your tough-woman shield up — which he couldn't blame you — and second, you weren't intending to stay long.

You tried to part yourself from him. "One more second, little Vixen. Just a second." He whispered.

You allowed him.

"Come on, dinner is getting cold." You said softly.

He didn't let you go, he simply loosened his grip and dragged you to the sofa. He was willing to keep you as close as he could until you ripped the bandaid off, unraveling this small spell that had turned his life into a perfect, dreamlike snowball.

Sitting on the sofa, he made you sit beside him, your side sticking to his from shoulder to hip to knee to ankle.

It was all too much but you didn't have the strength to part from him. He bent down and opened the small boxes.

It was fried chicken.

Like the first time at his place, at two am, naked in his bed after he had owned you in every way that mattered.

He loved fried chicken. And now it would always mean you to him.

No chimaek after fucking with anyone else. He wanted to keep it for you, in case one day you decided to come back, and he would say he had never done that with anyone else, that he had been waiting for you. Because some part of him told him that you would come back.

Both your brains were going on the same path, already mourning someone who was right there in that moment, but already felt so far away. The room was quiet but both your minds were screaming, thinking so loud that the silence was welcome.

"I got you fried chicken. I know you love it."

I love you, his brain replied. But his mouth stayed silent. It was too late anyway.

"Thank you." He said brusquely. He reprimanded himself for sounding so harsh.

"It's okay." You said quietly, using the lid to grab a couple pieces out of the ten or so. You didn't feel like eating and he always ate two thirds of the box anyway.

He exchanged one of your wings for a leg. "You prefer the leg." He said with a shy smile, trying to make up for the coldness he had shown previously.

You had been sleeping with Namjoon for three months now, spending all your spare time together at his place, sometimes moving in for the weekend, the both of you leaving your job early so you could spend Friday afternoon together and go on small dates. He usually had his schedule on Saturdays and Sundays too, so it wasn't uncommon for you to spend several hours alone at his place. You had made small improvements, making his house feel more like a home with small handmade crafts. And when he came back, you would usually try to keep it chill but eventually you ended up in bed, or on the sofa, or the kitchen counter. Or the carpet on the corridor leading to his bedroom. Or the shower. Let's just say that you would be all over each other.

You thought how different it would be now, and how difficult it would be to get him out of your system.

"How is it going." You asked quietly after you swallowed your first bite.

"Tough. I'm polishing some stuff, but this is the part where I doubt everything and want to rewrite all of it." He explained, his fingers gripping the chicken with a precision and finesse that reminded you of his delicate, careful side.

"You'll get through it. You're a pro by now. And I'm sure you have excellent taste. You know what you want and you'll find your way to it." You praised him, rubbing your shoulder against him since your fingers were dirty.

He leaned his head on your shoulder, shrinking down to reach you. "Thank you."

The more time passed, the more you realised he still hadn't said sorry for what he had implied during that phone call.

"That's okay."

"How have you been doing?" He asked, trying not to let his worry show. It still showed, though.

You decided on being honest. "I've been missing you."

He paused eating. "I've been missing you too." He put down the chicken, using the ball of his wrists to press against his temples. "I'm sorry about what I said that day. I know my past relationships and nerves are not valid excuses for how I treated you, but I got swallowed in those and I dragged you in."

You looked at the leg and finished munching on it, stripping the bone of the last few strings of meat. You put down the naked bone, licking your fingers. "You never talked about your most recent ex." You commented.

He picked up his head. "To put it simply, I was her side piece." He said, plainly. "She was getting married to someone else. And she messed around with me." He looked at his feet. "At the beginning I didn't know. It lasted around eight months, as she was waiting for her fiancé to finish his military service. After I discovered it, we kept going for a couple weeks, but I found the whole thing so upsetting and disgusting that we parted ways. Her fiance forgave her and they got married a while ago, a few weeks before I met you." He snickered sarcastically. "I even sent them flowers."

You blinked distractedly. "Joon, I'm so sorry, baby." You brushed your forehead against his arm.

"It's cool. I mean, it's not since I'm still traumatised by it. I've been talking about it with my analyst, but it's been a while since I last went, almost three weeks, because this project had been swallowing me whole — after chewing me a little, clearly." He had his exhausted laugh on.

You felt like you needed to talk about the whole story about that girl, but right now he didn't seem in the right mindset to do that. For now, knowing that he knew he had a bias and he was tackling the issue with a therapist was enough.

"Have you been sleeping, babe?" All the breaking up was momentarily suspended. There was something to save here. You had a lot you still wanted to save from this.

He seemed relieved when you called him that. Don't get your hopes up. He shook his head. "A couple hours at a time. Small naps when I'm tired."

"Okay, so once you're done eating, we're gonna take a good, long nap."

He didn't want to sleep though. He wanted to hold you close, kiss you, make sure that he did everything he could to make you stay. The meal continued quietly, and as soon as you were fed he asked you about your job, how it was going, if you had any new clients or if you had met any new artists. You replied to each question fully, telling him about curious accidents and little inconveniences.

And he listened. He had missed your voice and it felt good to listen to someone who wasn't himself or the boys' voices over speakers and headphones.

As you were both done with dinner, he guided you to the bathroom, standing behind you as you washed your hands. He took some soap, foaming it up between his hands before he caught your left palm within his, pressing and rubbing them together to clean you up. And then he laced his fingers with yours, lathering your digits in bubbles and making sure that the sticky sauce from the chicken disappeared completely. He moved to the other hand as you laid your head against his chest at his collarbone, tipping it back so you could stare at him. You were sure you had never adored someone this much. He turned slightly to look at you, smiling softly. He bent down and pressed his lips to yours gently. No man, no person in the world had ever touched you or kissed you like he has. No one has ever talked to you like him, showed you their world like he has. He reluctantly parted from your lips.

He led your joined hands to close the tap, moving to the hand dryer. It felt all too intimate.

"Joon."

"Let's get back to my studio, yeah?" He whispered in your ear. You nodded.

He laced his hand with yours.

Once you reached the studio, he quietly dragged you to the sofa, pulling at your arm so that you fell with your ass on his lap. He hugged you again. "I am so sorry about what I said. You have told me countless times that I'm the only one."

"You hurt me, Namjoon." You said quietly.

It felt like a slap, his full name.

"Let me make it right." He kissed your cheek and your eyes fell shut. "I want you."

And you wanted him too. You thought yourself crazy for wanting a man so complicated, someone who had disrespected you, who had repeatedly and blatantly demonstrated his lack of trust towards you. Still, when you needed reassurance, affection and devotion, your bodies always came into play, talking with a language so simple and obvious to each other that you simply nodded, whispering "I want you too."

With his index finger he turned your head, kissing you square on the lips and forcing you to part them, his tongue sweeping in your mouth, making your head spin with the intimacy and intensity of it all.

Let him take you, if that would reassure him that you only thought about him, you wanted only him and no one else.

His free hand curled around your thigh, climbing up under the tight knee-length dress you were wearing. The woolen grey number was the first thing to come off as he tugged it over your head and off his way. "You're so gorgeous," He murmured painfully, looking at you and taking in every small detail. "A work of art, little Vixen." He kissed your shoulder.

You smiled shyly, trying to straddle his waist. He toyed with the lace covering your breasts and nipples, teasing them with his fingers until they pressed hard against the fabric. Next he fooled around with the waistband of your tights, making you stand between his legs as he dragged the nylon down your thighs and calves. He stared at your feet, where the garment bunched up, noticing your black stilettos. "Off." He whispered, tapping his foot against yours. Once you took off the shoes, he bent down to help your feet out of your tights. He bit your leg harshly, leaving a mark behind. "Heels on again, Vixen."

Smiling darkly, you slipped them back on, shivering a little, but so happy to wear your favourite black lace set and stilettos for him.

"Walk for me?" He asked, making you put on a little show.

And God, did you enjoy it. His jaw went slack at the Brazilian cut of your panties, exposing to his hungry eyes the perfect curve of your ass, the way it swelled fully before meeting with the back of your thigh.

That was his favourite place to bite. And spank.

You did a small catwalk with your back to him, reaching his chair, which you turned around from his desk to the sofa. Facing the chair, you bent forward, your thumbs catching the fabric of your panties at your sides and pushing them down as you bent forward, offering him the whole panorama.

He groaned. "I'm gonna get an heart attack, baby."

You smiled at him viciously over your shoulder, letting your lower piece of underwear fall to the floor. Next you dragged your full palm up the curve of your ass, smacking it playfully as your fingers made their way to the clasp of your bra.

"You're gonna kill me, Vixen." He cried out.

Bra undone, you let both strings fall down your shoulders, removing one side first and letting the garment dangle from the other side, making your arm fall and drop the delicate lace ordeal.

Your smile disappeared in an innocent pout when you turned around, completely naked except for your shoes.

"I'm gonna sit here." You announced, waiting for his approval.

He nodded eagerly. "Make yourself comfy, Vixen."

You sat down, crossing your legs and propping your elbows on your knees. Shyness was not a word in your vocabulary in that moment. Your only intention was that of distracting him from whatever it was that was mauling his brain.

"Are you going to make me wait, Joon." You teased demandingly.

He stared at you, meeting your glance. "Stay there and sit still." He ordered before grabbing the hem of his sweater and pushing it upwards, taking off both sweater and undershirt in the process. His upper body appeared, a bit skinnier than two weeks ago but maybe it was just the distance and the slouching position. His sweatpants were taut around his lap and you bit your lip as your eyes traced the outline of his length. He laid his palm there, stroking himself over the cotton. "Missed you so much, baby." He groaned and huffed. His eyes closed, his hand grew tense, stronger and heavier. Licking your lips, you kept staring at him, squeezing your thighs as he touched himself for you.

He was hot, all the time, but this… This felt like a fever dream. You were soaked. Thank god his chair was leather and it could be cleaned easily.

He moaned your name, his eyes struggling to open enough to look at you. His voice was so deep and needy, mixed with heavy huffs. "Namjoon." You whined.

He opened his eyes fully, his hand coming to a halt. It was like a cold shower. He was reminded why you were doing this, why you had come to this, the sudden distance that had come within the two of you. "What is it, baby?"

You pushed your ass against the chair, looking for friction. "Come here. Touch me." You begged.

It pained him seeing you so needy and whiny and stressed. "Listen to me, baby thing. Listen very carefully." He wanted to reassure you but he couldn't come to you. "I need you to touch yourself, little one. Can you do that for me? I promise I'll touch you after you cum, baby, but I want to see you first." He asked, palming himself again.

You licked your lips. "Can I?" You questioned innocently, placing your palm on your thigh, your fingertips grazing your crotch.

"You can, doll. Do it for me." He growled, pushing his fingers under his waistband, grabbing his hard on at the base and stroking it as you parted your legs, exposing your wetness. You were beautiful, naked on his chair, dragging your middle finger along your dripping slit. Your other hand grabbed your breast.

"You're a vision, Vixen. You're magnificent, pretty thing."

"I want your tongue, daddy." You mewled, your finger dipping inside, emerging covered in glossy wetness.

He groaned, taking his cock out of his pants, moving the waistband to his thighs. “I’m gonna eat you later, pretty doll. I’ve been starving for weeks for that sweet cunt of yours.” His erection immediately sprung up, arching to his belly button, the lower tendon looking so inviting along that thick vein that always had him throwing his head back whenever you traced it with the tip of your front teeth. As your fingers met your clit, eliciting a whine from your throat, he used four fingers to press on the vein, his thumb already playing with the tip. His hands always looked incredible whenever he used them on himself, strong fingers and spidery tendons making the vision sinfully erotic. However, he was lost in you as much as you were lost in him, his lips parted, his breath panting while you opened your legs wider, using two fingers in small upward circles that teased the underside of your clit. You felt a chill run down your spine, your legs trembling and closing a little with an involuntary reflex. You giggled at that, closing your eyes and moving your grip to the armrest of the chair. Your upper body inched forward a little and your hand stopped.

“Too much, babygirl?” He asked and you smiled brightly, nodding.

You’re gonna miss it, the way she smiles when you’re doing it right, his brain reminded him and as a way to shut it up, he stroked himself faster, with more pressure, his spare hand brushing his abdomen and moving upwards, spreading over his pectoral, scratching the skin there before his thumb and forefinger curved around the base of his neck, pressing there.

You observed the motion, unpausing the movement between your thighs and humming as he gave you his desperate stare, the one that meant that he couldn’t take it anymore, that he was on the verge of it and even the smallest addition to the current situation would have him screaming and cumming.

“Joonie, lemme get close. Cum in my mouth, Joon, please.” You whined.

“No, naughty girl. Stay there and cum for daddy.” He groaned. “Come on, baby, I’m waiting for you.” He said, with a harsh and strained command.

Arching your neck, you started moving faster, opening your legs as far as the armrests allowed, but they only allowed an inch more than what you already had. Huffing with disappointment, you closed them and propped the back of your right knee on top of the armrest and repeated the gesture with your left leg, spreading yourself wide, almost hitting a split with your legs bent at the knees.

“God, you’re the dirtiest. You stretching it out for me? You’re so good, showing daddy how wet you are for him.” He teased, using that raspy voice that he knew always drives you insane.

With short, quick breaths you brought yourself closer and closer to the edge. “Daddy, please, keep talking to me.”

His hand slowed down. “Need to hear my voice, babygirl?”

You nodded and he snickered. “Then I’ll talk to you, little one. You know what I’m gonna do after you cum? I’m gonna crawl to you and kneel between those wondrous legs of yours. I’m gonna push your ass to the edge of the seat and feast on you like I’m trying to die eating that pussy. And do you know what you’re gonna do, Vixen?” He provoked.

You shook your head. “What am I going to do, daddy?” You questioned innocently, your words stumbling a few times as your breath got stuck somewhere in your throat.

“Oh, little fox, you’re gonna grab my hair and push that lovely cunt on my lips and tongue, fucking my face so hard and fast, pressing your sexy heels on my naked shoulders. I want to hear you gasp for air because I make you cum so good you forget to breathe, you forget how to speak.”

“Joon, I’m cumming.” You cried out, your legs starting to quiver and your clit getting too sensitive to stand the movement of your fingers, slipping them inside and pushing them in slow circles around your cervix.

His fingers moved back to the tip, the other hand massaging his balls. “Take it, Vixen, that’s it baby. I’m cumming, ____.” He moaned your name, spilling his release on his lower stomach.

You were still staring at each other with your chests heaving, eyes wild, hands stained by your pleasure. It was always the two of you. Always getting caught up in each other, always getting tangled in each other's fantasies with this constant lust pulling you in and never having enough. You wondered when the hunger would stop, when you would grow tired of his insecurity and possessiveness, when he would find out you're too kinky, too needy, too fucked up for a busy man like him to handle.

He cleaned his hand with one of the unused paper towels from dinner, crumbling it and throwing it in the box with the garbage from dinner.

"Joonie." You whispered, waiting.

"Coming, baby fox." He replied, standing up and taking off his sweatpants and boxers, walking straight to you. You closed your legs, a bit cold and embarrassed now that your high was over. Standing right in front of you, he cupped your cheek, making you look up at his face, however, even though your head was tipped back, aimed at his eyes, your glance hung low, staring at the droplets smearing his abdomen. "What are you looking at, spoiled little fox?" He said, with a sardonic smile.

"I wanna lick."

He grinned and scooped some liquid with his digit, bringing it to your lips.

Parting your lips, you licked your lower one first, then you let your tongue dart out and swipe at his finger, carefully sucking it into your mouth before he lowered his eyes, staring into yours and smirking seducingly as he pulled his digit out. You smacked your lips and savoured his taste, your eyelids falling shut as you hummed at his flavour.

His cock, once half soft, was now hardening again, swelling intermittently and slowly rising to his navel. But Namjoon's eyes were focused on your face. "Want more?" He asked once your eyes opened and your gaze focused on his face. With a sex-addled, lazy grin you nodded, opening your mouth.

He grinned right back. "Such a hungry little girl."

Impatient, you grabbed his hips, pulling him towards you and licking his belly clean. He groaned, observing you closely.

I'm going to teach her some patience and some manners, he thought darkly. However, he immediately reminded himself that he would never have the time, your liaison coming to an end.

With this unfortunate thought, he cupped your face. "I'm the one supposed to be eating now, ____. Let me take care of you, darling." He said, before falling to his knees. Immediately he pushed the back of the chair to the table, so that it wouldn't cartwheel out of his grasp.

Once more you asked yourself how many times he had done that before, thinking about how the relationship with the bride-to-be must have been mostly sexual, since you don't usually have much romance and dates with someone who is taken. Even though he didn't know she was taken. Whatever.

In that moment he was there, kneeling before you, placing your heels on his shoulders, cupping your ass and tipping it forward so he could easily and comfortably give you that first, glorious lick from your hole to your clit. "Taste so good." He said, nuzzling his lips side to side as he spoke, mixing the movement to the vibration of his voice. He bit the small tattoo at the top of your thigh, where it met your pelvis, just shy of your hip bone. "Sexy little thing." He kissed it. "Drove me insane since day one." As usual, he sucked at it, causing a dark purple mark to bloom over it. "Fucking perfect."

He laid his tongue flat against your slit drawing the tiniest circles with the whole length of it.

You hand-combed his hair back, holding it so you could look into his dragon eyes. He looked vicious and dangerous and so cunning, so smart in the most atrocious way.

"Namjoon." You moaned, your hips arching closer to his mouth.

He snickered cockily, moving his tongue slowly back into his mouth, allowing only the tip to wander up your crevice and reach the apex of your labia. He delivered a set of ten licks, slow and curling perfectly against your nub. "Are you good, little fox?" He asked.

You nodded and pushed his head back between your legs.

He laughed loudly, fighting against you. "I'm not done talking, brat." He bit your lower belly gently. "I'm gonna pump your clit with my mouth, Vixen. I'll suck it twenty times, then I'll let you rest until I'm ready again. I'll keep going until you cum. Remember that after twenty I'll pause. This could easily turn into edgeplay, baby, so you'd better get very horny very fast. You okay, Vixen?"

He checked on you and you nodded, impatient to simply have him on your clit.

"Be verbal, little girl." He reprimanded.

"Yes, daddy."

"Good girl. Let's get started."

He wasted no time. He wrapped his lips around your clit and started sucking, sucking so hard that you knew the following day his jaw and ears would hurt. At pump fifteen you already knew you needed more than twenty to cum. And as twenty arrived you whined but you felt confident that the next set would suffice.

This time you felt your edge at twelve, still you needed more. You were getting wetter and wetter, so soaked that his saliva and your slick mixed up and made you feel uncomfortable between your asscheeks.

"Joon–" You said, at which he mumbled "language" in between two pumps.

"Daddy, I want your fingers inside." You said, indulging his every whim.

He fumbled around with his arms, securing you with his left, making sure that your backside wouldn't get too close to the edge of the seat, and cause you to fall. His right arm moved back to your front, his index and middle finger coming to your entrance and waiting, his drool sliding from his tongue down your slit and directly on his fingers which, now lubricated, slipped in with no friction or resistance. The pressure was mind-blowing, your head spinning. "Daddy, please."

"Please what?" He said, hitting his pause.

"Make me cum. Let me." You asked, as meekly as you could.

"Why should I, uh?" He teased.

"Because I am a good girl." Because I love you, said an obnoxious part of your brain.

"Then I need you to say it one last time, Vixen. I know I've tormented you, but I need to ask it once and for all. Is there anyone else?" He said, his voice almost breaking.

"No, Namjoon. I swear to God, there's no one else. I promise it. I swear on everything that I love the most. Please." You begged, hoping that he would feel the desperate honesty in your voice. "Please. You're my only daddy. I have you, only you. I am yours." You said, and God if it felt right, if it felt true, being his, belonging to him.

Tell him you love him, your brain said again, but you refused.

He smiled brightly at your declaration. "We're done playing, if you want to, Vixen."

You simply nodded, batting your lashes at him. "I want to."

"Then hold tight because I'm not going to stop until you're fucking my face and screaming my name and shaking on this seat. Understood?" He warned you.

"Yes, daddy." You replied.

"Then hold tight, baby fox. I'm gonna eat you alive."

"Try." You challenged him.

And that's when he pounced. His pumps became longer, impossibly tighter, and the small pause between one and the next became shorter. Your eyes locked with his, brows knitting together, lips parting in a mewl as you threw your head back. "Namjoon. Please, daddy."

Smirking, he mixed the pumping motion with a barely-there curl of his tongue, teasing your clit with such delicate pressure that you couldn't even wrap your head around the incredible amount of tension that it was causing in your body. Your hands tightened in his hair, your moans dissolving into small giggles.

He wanted to tell you how good you sounded, how pretty you looked, how he wanted to see this every day for the rest of his life. He loved seeing you this happy, this carried away. He loved your morning voice and your late night cuddles. He loved breakfast in bed and midnight snacks and three a.m. quickies. He loved watching you take off your bra from under your t-shirt before going to bed, he loved seeing you shiver as you went to the bathroom early in the morning, clad in his t-shirt, plain cotton briefs and a pair of socks even in the dead of winter, since he always kept you warm under the covers by holding you close. He wanted to confess it all: the heartwarming wonder he felt staring at you had when you focused while reading and studying, when you brushed your hair, when you got dressed before leaving for the day, when you stood at the kitchen counter, cooking, with your back to him, and again when you applied lotion all over your body after showering, when he kissed your nape, standing behind you and donning the zipper of your dress.

However, he stayed silent, showing it all with the reckless ministrations of his mouth as your chest blushed, your hands grabbed his hair almost painfully and your hips snapped, your mouth opening in a silent scream.

You hadn't even bothered telling him you were cumming. He knew anyway. His mouth became more gentle, resolving to small licks while his fingers massaged your walls deep and slow, perfectly responding to the contractions of your muscles. "Here, pretty thing." He murmured, his hair tickling the skin of your stomach. "I've got you, baby. Shhh." He calmed you down, your breath coming in heavy pants, your heartbeat going like crazy. He rubbed his soaked fingers against his thigh, briefly cleaning himself before coming up to your face, cupping your cheeks. "Are you okay, little one?"

You nodded with your eyes closed, getting sleepy.

He caressed your face. "Open your eyes for me, baby girl, let me see your pretty eyes."

With a beatific smile you tried to look at him, eyelids lifting, taking a few seconds to focus on him.

"There she is, my moonshine." He cooed, pressing a kiss to your lips. "You look really happy, baby thing."

You simply moved your head in a nod.

"Do you want more, little fox?" He asked, still fussing over you. "Can you take it just one more time, babe?"

Licking your lips you nodded again with a giggle.

He smiled. "You keep nodding, baby. Are you saying yes to daddy?"

"Yes, Joonie." You whispered slowly.

"Good girl. Can you walk, Vixen?"

"Yes."

"Great. I want you to kneel in front of the coffee table, darling." He commanded, rising to his feet and helping you stand up.

This would be the last time, he decided.

He would allow himself your heaven just one more time, then he would hold you close for a few minutes, clean you up, accompany you home and let you go. He wasn't man enough to look into your eyes. He was weak and unfair. He turned you around with your back to him, his erection brushing against the small of your back. Once you were in front of the table, he moved your hair to the side, skimming the curve of your ear with his lower lip. "Kneel, Vixen."

You did.

He kneeled behind you, moving the books and magazines on the floor, away from the two of you, while the traces of your dinner were thrown into the bag, which he would discard later. With an empty table, he pushed his palm from the small of your back to your nape, making your front adhere to the table and making sure that your hair was out of the way. "I know you love this table." He murmured.

"I do."

"I do, too." His heart felt like a burden. Without further hesitation, he grabbed his length and rubbed his tip against you. "You ready, ____?"

"Please."

With a groan he slipped in, the filling sensation causing a loud whine on your behalf. "Quiet." He reprimanded.

You got a little scared at his dark voice, knowing that at this point you'd better obey. However, it lasted little. Once he bottomed out, he growled, bending down to your neck. "You good, little one?" He said, his sweet persona back in place.

"Yes, daddy."

He was breathing heavily through his nose as he sucked at the skin of your neck, marking you. As soon as he was sure the mark would bruise and stay for at least a couple days, he released your skin. "Do you want your spanks, baby girl?"

Your eyes rolling with pleasure, you hummed. "I want them so much, daddy. Spank me, please."

He simply breathed. "With pleasure, little one." He knew no one would ever be this good to him.

His chest parted from your back, a small shiver settling in instead.

The first smack was harsh, angry. You clenched around him and he thrusted in violently, growling.

The second one hit the tender skin of your outer thigh, where it met your ass. "Daddy." You whined.

"Quiet." He chastised again, his voice strained. He hammered into you four or five times.

"Daddy, it hurts." You cried out, at which he stayed silent, simply spanking you again, twice, without rubbing soothingly at your skin. You emitted a shrill huffing sound of complaint, at which he answered with violent ramming into you, using both hands to push you onto his lap.

This was not how Joon usually did it. This was not normal. With worry distracting your mind, you turned your head, looking at him. His eyes were closed, droplets falling down his cheeks. Was it sweat or tears?

"Namjoon?" You asked, alarmed.

He shook his head, biting his lip. "You good?" He asked, eyes still closed.

"Stop." You murmured.

He obeyed, exiting your warmth and opening his eyes, still avoiding your gaze contact. "Did I—?"

"Look at me."

He shook his head. "I can't."

"Namjoon." You reprimanded.

As your eyes met his, you noticed they were rimmed with tears, and he was biting his lip to hold back a sob, shaking his head in shame.

Your initial shock was followed by an overwhelming sense of tenderness for the beautiful, delicate man in front of you.

You quickly decided what to do.

You turned around fully, facing him as you stood on your knees, your hands caressing his cheeks. "What is it, Joonie bear?"

He simply frowned and hid in the crook of your neck, desperate.

"What is it?" You asked again.

He nuzzled even more into your chest, inhaling the damp feel of your skin. "I just want it to be a good memory." He huffed with a broken whisper.

A memory? "Why would it be a memory, Namjoon?" You asked, confused.

"If it's our last time, I wanna be good to you." He said, and you could feel every ounce of sadness in his voice.

Last time? "Joonie bear, why would it be our last time?"

His shoulders shook with sobs as he stopped holding back his tears. "I've been a bastard, it's okay if you want to go." He tried saying in his most composed voice.

You frowned in confusion. "No, Namjoon."

"You want to leave me. It's okay. I need it only one last time."

You shook your head, trying to grab his chin and make him look at you. However, he strongly opposed.

"Joonie." You murmured, hugging his head and caressing his hair. "I'm not here to leave you." You whispered. "I want to be with you." You continued.

He shook his head even more. "I was dumb. You have every right—"

"No." You kissed his head, caressing his shoulders, hugging him tight. "I'm not going anywhere."

He looked up at you, his face covered in tears.

"Oh, baby bear." You cooed, touching his cheeks, kissing his forehead. "Don't cry, Joonie." He disappeared even more into you, hugging your entire figure, dwarfing you. "Don't cry, my love." You whispered, the word tiptoeing out of your lips. He sobbed harder. "I'm so in love with you, Joonie bear." You crooned, offering him all your soul in those simple, childish words.

"You love me?" He asked, confused, alarmed, petrified.

"I love you, Namjoon." You repeated.

He completely forgot his messy face and brought his lips to yours, his mouth melting into you eagerly as your tongues spoke a language that came so natural to both of you.

Breathless, he parted from you. "I love you. I love you so much." He pressed tens of kisses on your face with such speed and pressure that you felt like disappearing into him.

"I love you too." You giggled, trying to clean his face.

You both laughed, elated, his hands coming to your waist, holding you closer and closer. "I wanna make love to you." He whispered. "Let me love you."

"Missionary on the carpet or cowgirl on the sofa?" You asked.

"Why choose when you can have both?" He wiggled an eyebrow. You smiled. He smiled back. "Let's get on the sofa." He replied gently. "You'll catch a cold with your sweaty back on the freezing floor."

"But no missionary on the sofa…" You cried out like a child.

He smiled. "Do you want missionary so bad?" He kissed your temple, smiling.

"I guess I'll be happy with anything you want." You pouted, still doubtful.

"C'mere." He said, getting even closer. You slipped your stilettos off and he picked you up by the back of your thighs and with some strength you didn't know he had, he carried you to the sofa, careful not to step on your shoes. "I'm going to sit. Careful with your legs." He warned, plopping down as carefully and as gently as he could, mercifully avoiding to sit with your calves underneath him.

"Don't worry, I won't make you ride me, baby." He kissed your brow. "You're too tired for that." He cradled you to his chest, offering you a bit of his body heat. "Can you push it inside you for me, love?" He asked seducingly, kissing your neck.

You smiled and reached between your bodies. He was already pulsating, you knew he would come undone in a few strokes. Slowly, you lifted your hips and pushed his tip inside, making him groan.

"You're always so tight, babylove. Fuck, you feel amazing." He sucked at your neck some more, drawing a twin bruise to the one you had on the other side of your throat. "I feel like a fucking teenager with you. I can never get enough." His hips jutted a little, pushing into you while his forearm around your waist pulled you down, his hand gripping your ass.

"Daddy." You breathed out, your forehead pressed against his neck as he bottomed out.

"Yes?" He replied, soothing you with long caresses down your spine. "Does it hurt, doll?"

He had so many nicknames for you but you couldn't wait for your next. "No, daddy." He held your face away from his shoulder. "Are you sure babylove?"

Your face stretched in a slight grimace. "Maybe."

He giggled and kissed your cheek, sliding down to your mouth. "I'm sorry, Vixen." He pressed his lips to yours once and then again. "I'm so sorry, baby. For everything." He combed your hair back. "I can't promise you I'll never hurt you, but I can promise I'll try to make it better every single time." He held you close as your brow furrowed. "I love you." He whispered, one hand cradling the back of your head, the other pressing on your lower back.

"I love you too." You said right back. "But please, Joonie…"

"Need me to move?" He asked.

"I want you to cum." You murmured.

He smirked and nodded. "Want me to finger you?" He asked, already drawing short thrusts into you and helping you ride him with his forearm around you.

"Yes, please, daddy." You whined.

His right hand left the crown of your head, coming to the top of your thighs and beginning to draw small circles at the apex of your labia, the flat of his thumb wide enough to cover your bundle of nerves entirely.

"Would you like to take your time, Vixen?" He asked kindly, knowing that sometimes it took you a bit longer than him to actually get worked up.

"I just need you to keep going exactly like this. You're perfect, Joonie."

He grunted and started pushing into you from below. "Like this?" He said, his voice a tad strained.

His thrusts were low and deep, curling just enough to hit your sweet spot. He realised you started holding your breath. Usually that meant you were close.

He bent his head, looking down where your bodies joined. It was hypnotizing, his thumb drawing perfectly identical circles. He started kissing and licking any and every inch of skin that came close to his mouth, your shoulder, your chest, your neck, sucking whenever he managed to grip the skin for long enough to bruise and mark.

When you started shoving yourself on him, bouncing in earnest, he kept his cool and stopped fooling around, staying focused on lasting long enough, doing the exact same thing, knowing that with a few thrusts delivered just right, you would become like putty in his arms and he could just get crazy and chase his high.

With your lips parting in a high pitched moan, you pressed your hips to his two more times before your chest collapsed into his with a tired whimper. "Take what you need." You murmured before propping yourself with your forearms against the back of the sofa, lifting your hips. Your face was pressed at the crook beneath his jaw, your tongue blindly chasing the droplets of sweat sliding down the column of his throat. He emitted an animalistic groan before his palms thudded heavily against your glutes, gripping your hips so hard that both his knuckles and your flesh turned white. And then he started ramming into you from below. The sounds in the room were a mix of his grunts, the smacking of flesh and the wetness between your legs, but more quietly, under all those layers, in between a groan and the next, there were his whispered love declarations, which poured out of his mouth like prayers, until he was so close, so fucked out that he could only repeat 'I love you', over and over, interrupted only by a final howl as he spilled inside you.

In all of this you had tried to stay quiet, shushing him and kissing his neck, not sure that you were allowed to mark him.

You laid both exhausted, his body sliding sideways down the sofa, trying to rest on the seats, his head laying on an armrest as his ankles dangling from the other. You covered him like a blanket, your hair draping over his chest and tumbling down the edge of the sofa.

You were both sweaty and messy with cum and drool, still you simply laid there, until you felt too cold and shivered.

"Blanket?" You asked.

He shook his head. "I'd better dress you and take you back at mine. I can go home tonight. There's no use working late. I need to rest anyway."

"Are you sure." You asked, touching his face.

He kissed your wrist. "Sure."

"I have to clean your chair first. I should have some wet wipes in my handbag." You mumbled. "And I should clean myself too before I drip on your lovely sofa."

He hummed, tired, fake-crying as he said "I don't wanna get up."

"My bag is right beside the sofa, just stretch your arm backward." You directed him.

He fumbled around a bit, moving the bag from behind his head to your side, where you could easily reach inside. After a bit of rummaging, you fished out your wipes, making a quick work of pulling him out and cleaning yourself.

"Cold." He muttered with a pout, which you kissed away from his face.

"Come on, baby bear, get up and get dressed. I wanna shower with you and shower you in kisses." You pampered him, trying to convince him to get ready to leave.

He whined as you sat up, quickly dashing to recoup your underwear. Once you were wearing it, you cleaned his chair, quite happy when you noticed that it wasn't half as bad as you though. When you turned, you noticed he was staring at you, already completely dressed, your dress in his hands. You moved closer.

"Up with your arms, love." He said gently, and for a second you realised that your simple and emotional confessions weren't a mirage caused by arousal or desperation.

You followed his instructions as he helped you wear your dress, slipping it over your head and helping you find both sleeves. Next he gripped the hem at both sides, delicately rolling the fabric down your body. Once it reached your knees, he let his hands skim back up your hips and waist, crossing his wrists behind your back before squeezing your ass. He stared at your throat.

"Will I have to wear a turtleneck for the next ten days?" You asked, slipping the neck of your dress aside and checking the damage.

"Sorry." He murmured.

"It's okay. I like it. I'm just teasing you." You said with a playful smirk.

"Brat." He mouthed with a snicker, bending down to pick up your tights.

You tutted, stealing them from his hands. "Let me do these, they're tricky."

He simply stared, his body trembling with a new tide of arousal at the mannerism you used to put on the garment, rolling up one leg between your thumbs and forefingers, pressing your toes against the stitching and dragging the nylon up your leg. He had seen this scene in an old Italian movie, but seeing the gesture in real life helped him understand the frenzy that the main character experienced after such an act. After you repeated the movement on the other leg, his mouth practically salivating, he watched some more as you fixed the gusset and the waistband, stretching the garment around the curve of your ass.

"Call me whenever you need to wear those." He whispered in marvel and agony. "I might take them off you just to see it all over again."

You smiled coquettishly, grabbing your coat and wearing it.

He kneeled in front of you, holding one of your shoes. "When's your birthday?" He asked, making you lift one foot as he slipped your heel on.

You frowned, the connection unknown to you. "Mid-november. Why?"

He held your other shoe and you held onto his shoulder as you lifted your other foot, wearing the black stiletto. "I loved seeing those on you tonight. I might buy you another pair or eight as a birthday gift."

You shook your head and laughed. "I don't need a sugar daddy, I'm happy with my plain, regular one." He rose to his feet and you grabbed his cheeks, planting a big, fat smooch on his mouth. "I'm actually very, very in love."

"Hello, Actually Very, Very in Love. My name is Head Over Heels — he pointed at your shoes — in Love. Pleased to meet you."

You laughed and he felt his heart explode with joy, his nose brushing against yours with Eskimo kisses. "Your bag." He said, bending to pick it up. "My bags." He said, collecting his tote and the small paper bag with his belongings that you had brought him. He neared his desk, checking the various devices. "Equipment off, computer off–" He mumbled as he moved the mouse to shut down the system. Meanwhile you fixed the low table, putting the magazines back on top of it. He switched off his table lamp and moved towards the door. "Dinner." He reminded himself, picking up the trash bag by the entrance. "You ready, Vixen?"

You hummed in confirmation.

"Let's go."

#bangtan smut #bts smut #bangtan sonyeondan #namjoon smut #namjoon one shot #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fic #bangtan fanfic #bangtan fic #Namjoon x reader

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crystaljins · 3 years

Text

River lead me home | 07

Characters: Kim Seokjin x reader

Word count: 7.3k

Synopsis: Ever since coming to the human realm when you were child, nothing seems to fit, and this was just supposed to be a simple roadtrip to help you find yourself.

Is that too much to ask for?

Spin-off to A long journey home

Rating: Teens

Genre: Adventure, fluff, angst

Notes: Hey all! Long time no see! I’m not really sure why I took so long to post... I just felt like I put so much work into this fic that I didn’t want it to be over so easily, and I was like “after this there’s only one more chapter!!” AND THEN! I went into my WIPs folder and made a discovery! THere’s 9 parts to this fic!! So now I feel a little better.

ANyway, PLEASE let me know if you like this chapter because I definitely feel like it’s the emotional climax of the whole story. ALl the stuff that happens from this point on is just... like a really long epilogue.

Tags: @blue1928 @veeparkersstuff @nello-rie (soz it won’t tag you!)

Masterlist

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 FINAL

You may be a guardian, but even you have your limits. Despite your best attempts to move quickly, the pain in your shoulder rapidly becomes overwhelming.

Jin, frustratingly, picks up on it far sooner than you would prefer.

“I think we need to stop for a break.” He comments. The three of you have barely been walking for an hour and at any moment the Saishta’s could be upon you, ready to take you to their queen.

Jungkook looks like he wants to protest.

“We’re so close though! It’s only a little while longer!” He points out, glancing nervously across the expansive plains. The benefit of them is that you’d spot any Saishtas from miles away, given the hulking, monstrous beasts they tend to use as their mounts.

Jungkook folds his arms. “I think it’s a bad idea to stop now. We need to get to the river and we’re sitting ducks out on the plains like this.”

Jin shoots Jungkook a withering look- this is nothing new, but the venom in Jin’s eyes surprises you. As much as he pretends to hate the tiny pixie, he doesn’t actually mean it.

Jungkook shrivels a bit but doesn’t back down. Luckily (or rather, unluckily), their stand-off is halted by your legs deciding they are no longer strong enough to hold your body up. Blood loss and extreme pain will do that, apparently.

Jin catches you as you crumble, smoothly scooping an arm around your waist and gently tugging you towards him until your weight is supported by his frame. The entire time, he does not tear his gaze from his stare-off with Jungkook. And apparently your weakness is the convincing Jungkook needs to show it’s time for a break. He glares at Jin for another couple of moments before releasing an annoyed huff.

“I’ll cast a disguising spell on you two and scout out the area for any of those annoying reptiles. Don’t move from this spot or the spell will become ineffective.” He announces through grit teeth before zooming off like an angry mosquito.

When he’s out of earshot, Jin turns his gaze to you and gently lowers you to the ground until you are seated amongst the stiff golden stems. He doesn’t release you from his carefully hold, however. Instead, he shifts until he is sitting almost nose-to-nose with you.

“That was strange of Jungkook.” You observe, in an attempt to cover your discomfort at his proximity. You wonder if Jin knows how powerful his good looks are up close. He probably does- he’s never pretended to be anything other than devastatingly handsome.

“He’s scared.” Jin answers with pursed lips. His gaze isn’t on your face, however. It’s fixed on your injured shoulder. Slowly, he raises a hand and gently rests his palm against the front of your shoulder. “You would be too if you could see how terrible you look right now.”

If you are surprised by the single tear that rolls down your face in response, it is nothing compared to Jin’s horrified reaction as he realises what he has done. Apparently, this whole being in love thing sucks.

“W-wait!” Jin protests, absolutely horrified. “I-I didn’t mean it like that-“

You quickly scrub at your face with your uninjured arm. You know, in theory, that Jin didn’t mean that you looked terrible as in that he thought you were ugly. And you know in theory that it is therefore stupid to cry over it. But for some reason, that’s where your mind had gone- reminding you like an ever present shadow just how misplaced you look next to him, how there’s nothing you can give him that he can’t find in a million other girls, and just how little he thinks of you.

You’re surprised when his hand replaces yours, far gentler than you had been as he wipes the tears from your face with a careful swipe of his thumb.

“Hey,” he calls, grabbing your chin in his hand and angling your face until you’re forced to meet his gaze. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean it like that. I just mean that you... that you...” he voice cracks and he hangs his head, dropping his hands so he can clench his fists in his lap. “It’s not fun being reminded of how close we came to losing you.” Jin finally says. He drops his hand and his shoulders slump like he carries the weight of the world on his shoulders.

You don’t know this Jin. This terrified, uncertain man. He’s never once, in the entire time you’ve known him, shown this vulnerable, fragile side of himself. But you know you’re in trouble because you love this side of him too. The part of him that gets scared, that shows weakness, that can break. As much as you hate the fact that it is you who has made him like this, you are grateful that he trusts you enough to show himself, warts and all, and you feel something molten in your chest as you silently promise yourself that you’ll protect him. No matter what, you’ll keep him safe. Even if you’re not particularly smart or pretty or charming. You’re not the model-like, glamourous, genius girls he normally dates, and you never will be. You’re unemployed and clumsy and socially awkward and you’re selfish and childish on top of all that. But this is what you can offer him: your heart, as pathetic as she is, and the promise to protect him, no matter where he goes or ends up in life.

“I know you didn’t mean it like that. I... just... It’s stupid.” You sigh at yourself before lifting your gaze to watch him. “Are you scared?” You finally question, changing the subject as the last of your tears dry. Jin frowns, nodding slightly.

“A little.” He admits, his tone a bit dry like he’s severely understating his feelings on the matter. And you don’t know why, but something prompts you to reach forward and wrap your hand around his. Perhaps it is the slight shake he tried to hide by gripping the material of his pants so hard his knuckles go white. His hand is surprisingly much bigger than yours- you don’t know why that surprises you, but it does.

“Don’t worry.” You reassure him. “I’ll protect you.”

The corner of his lip quirks and he shoots you an oddly fond look. It’s one you’ve seen before, although not directed at you. You’ve seen him look that way when he speaks about a particularly endearing coworker, or he recalls something silly that Namjoon has done. This is the first time you’ve been on the receiving end.

“In that state?” He questions with a raised brow. You feel yourself bristle a little defensively at the slightly patronising way he is coming across.

“Are you laughing?” You press, slightly offended. “You don’t think I can?”

“No.” Jin answers, turning to you with an odd sort of expression to his face. “I know you will. That’s the problem.” And then, in spite of himself, he offers you a full-blown smile, cheerful and happy like you’ve never really seen before. You are momentarily struck speechless, mesmerised by the sight before you. “But thank you. I’m glad, that I can count on you.”

Something warm and eager blooms in your chest at his words. You cup your hands around his face and you admire the openness of his smile. How great would it be, if you could capture that smile in a picture and keep it forever? If you could preserve the way he’s looking at you right now, so that you always remember with clarity that even if he doesn’t love you, Jin can look at you like this. Like you are something precious and adored. This is the man you get to love. Even if he doesn’t feel the same way, you’re still happy. You feel like this love is a happy thing.

“I’m starting to think you only wanted to rest to pull the moves on her.” Jungkook announces his presence, seeming thoroughly unimpressed. He folds his arms as the air shimmers around him, signalling the dispersion of his illusory magic. “‘Let’s go see the river, Jungkook. It’ll be fun. I’ll get over my trauma.’ If you’d told me being a third wheel was in the job description, I never would have come.” Jungkook grumbles as Jin quickly pulls away. You don’t quite catch the way his ears go red and his face seems to burn where your hands had gently cradled him, but Jungkook does, and he merely rolls his eyes at the sight. “It’s time to go.” He urges.

Jin clears his throat awkwardly, scrabbling to his feet and dusting off his trousers before extending his hand out to you.

“C’mon.” He urges, though his tone seems gruffer than before. “Jungkook’s right. The Saishtas will find us at this rate.”

You hesitate, just a moment, before gratefully accepting his hand as he tugs you to your feet.

Oddly, though you expect him to release your hand once you are standing, he does no such thing. Instead, he wraps his hand around yours and uses it to tug you along as the three of you once again set off.

“It’ll be easier for you to keep up.” Is all Jin offers as explanation for why he continues to grip onto your hand as though you’re planning to flee from him the second that he releases you. You stare in confusion for a moment, trying to puzzle out Jin’s behaviour, but he provides no further insight.

The three of you set a much more rapid pace this time, and after your brief rest, you cope much better. Jin eventually releases your hand when it becomes clear you’re gradually regaining your strength as your enhanced healing kicks in. The sun begins to draw close to the horizon and the brilliant blue above begins to deepen into a soft pink. But you realise something, as you continue your advance.

There’s no sound of a river. Over the expansive plains, the river song should carry easily on the warm, sweet breeze. And it should be in view by now, but it’s not. Instead, what you see is a dark, jagged line slicing through the plains like a gaping wound. It’s the edge of a ravine- there’s no river in sight.

“Something’s not right- “ you breathe, only for the breath to be knocked clean from your lungs as Jin throws his full body weight at you, unprompted. You roll a few times from the force of his tackle, before finally landing with his body crouched over you protectively. Your eyes widen in shock, glancing over to where you had stood moment before, only to see the end of an arrow lodged in the ground.

“See!” Jin croaks, hovering over you. “How hard was that? Tackle, don’t push, (Y/N)! If you’re gonna be saving people at least take that on board.” He scolds, in what is clearly the beginning of a Jant. (Jin rant)

“Now’s not the time, Jin!” Jungkook screeches.

“I’m just saying,” Jin cries, as he scrambles off you and yanks you to your feet by your good arm. “How hard would it have been to tackle me instead of taking an arrow to the shoulder?”

His Jant is interrupted by the dreadful sound of the Saishta hunting horn erupting from behind you. Only, this time, there is nowhere to run. Yes, you could easily outrun them, but to where? You have long left the safety of the forest where there are endless places to safely conceal yourself once you’ve outrun them. But here is only open plains, followed by a sheer cliff face. There is a bridge across the river, in the maps you’ve seen, but those maps have also told you there’s a river where there’s nothing but a deathly ravine. Still, the bridge is supposedly about a kilometre south of where you now stand, and it’s your only hope. But will you be able to run that far in this state?

The ravine hovers on the edge of your vision, out towards the west, and you can now make out the hulking forms of the Saishta mounts, as their hunting party makes its slow, arrogant prowl towards you. The mounts of Saishtas do not run- they believe that persistence will allow them to eventually capture any prey. Eventually, all targets must tire, or reach the end, and that is when the Saishta can make the kill. They seem confident that that’s the situation the three of you are in now. You could flee, but if you give away that your destination is the river (or ravine?), you’ll never be able to safely see it, for they will guard it until the end of time.

“Sssurrender!” They call, now barely a hundred metres away.

“We’ll have to fight.” You announce to your companions, who both whip their heads around to glare at you with incredulity.

“Are you crazy?” Jungkook cries.

You clench your teeth as you slip into a familiar stance, holding up your arms as you prepare to fight.

“It’s our only option.” You point out, wincing as your shoulder protests at the stance you are currently in.

Jin takes one look at you and the advancing Saishtas and then he does possibly the most unexpected thing he could have done.

He throws you over his shoulder like you are a sack of potatoes and legs it.

“This way!” Jungkook encourages, zooming southwards towards where you know the bridge is.

“Jin!” You cry in protest, but he doesn’t respond. “Jin, stop! I was going to fight them!”

“No!” Jin snaps. “You were going to die. Or at least, you were going to try to and this time I’m not letting you.”

You stop struggling, slumping against his back.

“Not again.” Jin promises. “You won’t get hurt again. ‘I won’t stop and think while you’re in danger.’” He tells you, echoing your earlier words to him. For some reason, it leaves you unable to retort. “Now if I set you down, will you run with me, or will you do something stupid?”

You purse your lips in annoyance, trying to hold yourself stable as you flop around on Jin’s shoulder. You can see the Saishta making their slow, confident prowl behind you. They won’t shoot any more arrows at this proximity- after all, their aim is to capture you, not kill.

“I’ll run.” You silently agree. Jin gives you absolutely no warning as he practically flings you back onto the ground, grabbing your hand as he tugs you on in a full-on sprint.

“We’re almost there!” Jungkook cries, zooming slightly ahead of the two of you. Ahead, the great stone structure that comprises the great bridge that can carry you to safety on the other side of the ravine. You swallow your desperate, heaving breaths, ignoring the way your weakened body protests at the exertion. If you can just get to the bridge, there’s a forest on the other side of the river. The three of you can easily conceal yourselves there, and then come back under the cover of night and investigate why there’s a ravine here instead of a river.

The ground firms beneath you as it transitions from soft, loamy soil to a firm, well cut stone path. An arrow whizzes just past your ear and bounces off the stone path- a warning shot from the pursuing hunting party.

You squeeze your eyes shut as the three of you reach the edge of the bridge. The ravine is huge, and the bridge stretches ahead of you.

And then it sounds. Another hunting horn, a sound that will probably haunt you for the remainder of your days. But this one is from the opposite side of the bridge, where you are fleeing to.

Jin’s footsteps slow alongside yours, and Jungkook’s frantic buzzing becomes a slow, confused flutter as the three of you gradually draw the same conclusion.

You’re trapped. There are Saishtas awaiting you on either side of the bridge. No matter which way you try to break through, you will have to fight through them. No wonder they were so confident they could catch you.

“We’ll have to fight.” You breathe, trying to slow your exhausted, rapid breathing. Jin is soaked with sweat and even Jungkook seems flushed with the exertion of your desperate sprint.

“We can’t.” Jin reminds you, out of breath and still gripping onto your hand so hard it hurts. “You’ll die.”

“We’ll die if they capture us too!” You point out. You can now see the Saishtas on both ends of the bridge, closing in on the three of you like a pack of hunting dogs. “I’m so sorry Jin- this is all my fault! It’s not even a river- it’s some kind of ravine! I dragged us all the way here for nothing.”

“Jin!” Jungkook calls, but you ignore him, too caught up in the realisation of what you’ve done.

“He told me nature doesn’t change but that was stupid! Of course it changes- it’s been 1000 years and I just believed like an idiot that the river would still be here.” You cry, tears flowing down your face.

“Jin!” Jungkook calls, and this time, Jin claps free his hand over your mouth to stop your desperate monologuing.

“What now?” Jin demands of the small pixie. The pixie in question bites his lip and looks from side to side at the Saishtas who watch you almost lazily across the length of the bridge. They have all the time in the world, after all- where can the three of you go except over the edge of the bridge, where you will surely meet your demise?

“‘The river loves those who take the plunge.’” Jungkook recites, gesturing out to the endless, gaping ravine behind you.

You stare in confusion, but understanding dawns in Jin’s eyes as he leans over the low stone wall and stares down at the bottomless pit. He goes white and his hand tightens on your own to the point you are wincing with pain.

“(Y/N),” Jin calls, not lifting his gaze from the ravine. “Do you trust me?”

You blink, glancing over at the Saishtas who draw closer and closer with each moment. You’re not sure why he’s asking this now of all times, but your answer still comes easily.

“With my life.” You answers solemnly. He glances at you, surprised by your words, before his gaze softens and he smiles weakly at you. Then, he releases your hand and slowly he lifts himself up onto the stone wall.

“Then take the plunge.” He tells you, holding his hand out to you.

Your eyes widen as you realise what he’s trying to do. You glance at Jungkook, who merely nods at you, and then at the Saishtas who chatter in confusion at Jin’s actions.

And finally, you look up at Jin, into the eyes of the man you love, and you know that even if it’s crazy, you really do trust him with your life.

He tugs you up onto the wall and pulls you close, cradling your head in the palm of one hand and wrapping his other arm around your waist to hold you close. It reminds you of when you had arrived in this realm. He’s always held you like this, you realise. Like you are something precious to him, something he could never bear to lose.

You lift your gaze to him and meet his eyes, filled with fear, and he smiles. The Saishtas realise what is happening right as Jin takes a step backwards, off the edge of the bridge.

You squeeze your eyes shut as the two of you plummet down into the ravine below, Jungkook in close pursuit.

The last thing you hear before the darkness swallows you up is the desperate, furious roars of the Saishtas, thwarted once more.

When you come to, it is on a slightly damp, sandy surface. Jin is still unconscious next to you, with an arm thrown protectively over your waist. As you sit up, his arm slides off you, and you move away, taking in your surroundings.

You’re on a sandy riverbank- dark, inky waves lap at the surface in what is largely a calm, but dark river.

Overhead, you can see the clear, starry sky peeking at you through the jagged crack exposed by the top of the ravine. The river before you catches small flashes of starlight, but otherwise the area is largely dark.

That is, until a torch beam lands on you and you are nearly blinded by the sudden, intense light.

“Ow!” You cry out, unable to see who is on the other side of the beam.

“Sorry!” Jungkook hastily apologises, struggling to hold up the weight of your pompompurin torch. “I was looking for something.”

You rub at your eyes, which are now streaming with tears.

“Looking for what?” You ask, when your vision is finally cleared enough to make out Jungkook’s outline in the meagre lighting. Jungkook is silent for a moment, before hoisting the torch up even though it’s larger than him and directing it at the wall.

“This.” He says, and then he turns the light on.

You don’t know what you were expecting with Jungkook’s actions, but what you find is dozens of inscriptions along the cliff wall. Some are deeply engraved, and some are mere scratches, but they all seem to have different messages.

“What... what is all this?” You question in wonder.

“Messages.” Jungkook answers. He turns to look at you, dropping the torch into your hand so that you can freely exam the numerous inscriptions. “That’s what people come to the river of stars to do. To leave a message that will last through all of time.”

You blink and turn to look at the river behind you. It just looks like a normal river, albeit at the bottom of a ravine. But there’s no glowing plants, and if you hadn’t just plummeted off the edge of a bridge, you wouldn’t even know there was a river.

“This... isn’t what I expected, when I pictured this place.” You finally say. “How did we survive that fall, Jungkook?”

When you turn to look at Jungkook, he is gazing out across the river with an almost forlorn look upon his face.

“Well, you’ve probably guessed this isn’t a normal river.” Jungkook says. “It’s actually got special magical properties- that’s how those glowing plants are able to grow here. And how you were able to survive the fall- this place is so filled with magic that amazing things can happen, like people plummeting hundreds of feet and surviving the fall, or beautiful, rare plants growing. Or rare mythical creatures being born.”

Jungkook turns to you and fans his arms out on either side of him, gesturing at the space around him.

“I’ve wanted to tell you this for a long time. This river has another name, (Y/N).” He tells you. “It’s known as Gebulfen, the birthplace of the pixie. This is where I was born.”

“Where you were born?” Jin groans, sitting up and rubbing at his forehead. Jungkook’s eyes flicker over to the guardian in question.

“Is there an echo here? Why are you repeating what I just said?” He pouts. But he zooms over to Jin and lands on his outstretched knee. “Good work though. I wasn’t sure you’d work out what I meant when I told you that old saying, but you did!”

“You could have just said it outright.” Jin grumbles, hoisting himself to his feet. His gaze briefly flickers over you, assessing for injuries.

“Then the Saishtas would have worked out we were planning to jump.” Jungkook shrugged. “The only reason we had as much time as we did was because they thought we had nowhere to go.”

“I guess I can’t argue with that.” Jin grumbles, lifting his gaze to where you can just make out the outline of the great stone bridge you had plummeted from. “I guess they probably think we are dead now. Maybe it’ll be easier to get home.”

Home... that’s the next step of the journey for you. Jin’s words trigger the revelation for you- you’ve reached the end of your journey. You’ve finally made it to the River of Stars, like you’ve dreamed about for so many years. You stare in bewilderment across the smooth, dark surface of the river, taking in the soft sounds of the rushing water.

Gebulfen... the pixie birthplace. You had never heard that name before, nor had Jungkook ever chosen to share any information with you about his life in this realm.

“Are you disappointed?” The pixie in question asks, hovering close to your ear so that the rush of air from his wings tickles your ear. He flutters around to face you, before leaning in close and smiling. He hovers in the space between your eyes so that you have to go cross-eyed to focus on him. “That there’s no lights?”

“Ayla said there wouldn’t be.” Jin says, coming up to stand level with you. “I didn’t want to believe her, but it looks like-“

“Not so fast,” Jungkook hastily corrects Jin, fluttering forward to hold his tiny hands over Jin’s mouth so that he can’t talk anymore. “Ayla was incorrect. I can’t blame her, because it’s been over a thousand years since anyone has remembered the truth of this river. The lights do exist. But the plants only light up in response to a special kind of magic.”

“What magic?” You ask, unable to hold back your curiosity. You had come all this way to see the river lights, after all. Jungkook smiles, releasing Jin so that he can flutter up to you.

“I’ve always known you didn’t listen in your tutoring classes as a child because you didn’t know how I was born.” He tells you, instead of telling you what magic needs to be performed to see the lights. “Pixies are born of wishes, and they come to life at this very river. And our purpose... is to see the wish that birthed us come through.”

“What does that have to do with the river ligh-“ you protest but Jungkook cuts you off.

“Hush. I’m getting there. That’s what the plants respond to. Pixie magic.” He finishes his explanation. “Not my silly illusory spells, but real, ancient, powerful pixie magic.”

“So, to see the lights, and for (Y/N) to be able to go home, we... we have to grant whatever wish you were born to fulfill?” Jin asks, having always been a bit quicker than you to put things together. Jungkook nods, shooting two finger guns at the two of you playfully.

“Bingo!” Jungkook cries cheerfully. “You’re smarter than you look! Perhaps there’s use for you yet.”

An odd feeling fills you at Jungkook’s words, however. You’ve known the pixie for a long time. Despite his best efforts to appear constantly unbothered and joking, there’s a lot that Jungkook hides behind a smile. Like his longing to be human... his loneliness... the fact that there are hopes and dreams he’s always longed to fulfil but knows he never can. Jungkook has always hidden behind a smile and right now he’s hiding again.

“What... what are you hiding?” You ask. Jungkook looks taken aback, his eyes widening momentarily before he quickly conceals the expression.

“Shouldn’t you ask me what wish I need to grant? So that you can see the lights?” He points out. You shake your head, stepping in close, but Jungkook moves backwards, out of reach. His posture is now defensive, and you know, more certainly than ever, that Jungkook is hiding something. Why else would he not have mentioned the wish he was born to fulfil, in thirteen years of knowing you? Why is he only telling you the truth of Gebulfen now, after an entire journey travelling to see it?

“Jungkook...” you say softly, your voice barely audible above the rush of the river. He deflates at the soft, concerned tone of your voice. You hold your hands out to them, and he lands in them.

“I’ve always been really happy being with you, (Y/N).” Jungkook says, as you raise him so that he is eye level with you. He stretches out a hand and rests it against the tip of your nose. “With you, Taehyung... with your mother... even with that big oaf and his family over there. It’s been really fun. Even if I had to live in the human realm, I’ve always had friends. And I know you guys care a lot about me. So... I was never brave enough to bring up my wish. I wanted to stay with you guys, and to keep having fun. To keep learning to dance off YouTube, and to keep bringing your houseplants to life when they died... I liked stealing the cookies from your upstairs neighbour when she left the room and I liked swapping Jin’s shoes around before he left for work in the morning-“

“I knew that was you, you little twerp-“ Jin cries in outrage, but you silence him with a glare before turning your attention back to Jungkook. For some reason, he suddenly seems small and fragile in your hands in a way he never really has before.

“I knew... a part of me was always afraid that when I granted my wish, it would be goodbye.” He confesses, and for the first time in his entire life, a tear trickles down Jungkook’s face. You can only stare in bewilderment, barely processing his words.

“Goodbye?” You echo. Jungkook nods, with a teary smile.

“I don’t know what happens, to a pixie who has granted a wish. I’ve tried to research it- I’ve had Taehyung bring me back books from this realm, and I’ve studied the history. But in the entire history of this realm, of my race... there’s no mention of what happens to us after. There’s no pixie settlements or communities. There’s no monuments to our names... there’s nothing. It’s like we... it’s like we vanish.” He confesses, and the tears are coming full force. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I should have granted this wish years ago but I was scared that I-“

“You might die?” You fill in for him. Jungkook hesitates for a moment before nodding.

“I don’t know.” He says. “There’s no pixie manual. I just know that I have to grant the wish and then-“

“Screw the wish!” You cry, cutting him off. Jungkook’s eyes widen.

“What?” He asks. You release him, stepping back and gazing around the ravine.

“Screw the wish.” You repeat, now searching for an echo. “Why risk your life? Why would I want you to risk your life? If you don’t know what happens if you grant the wish, then we’ll just never grant the wish and you’ll be fine-“

“(Y/N),” Jungkook calls sternly, zooming so that he’s in front of you. “I have to grant the wish.”

“Why?” You cry, and you realise there are tears sliding down your face. Jin watches the whole exchange in silence. “Why do you have to grant the risk? Why do we have to risk you vanishing? Why would you go that far over a stupid river?”

Jungkook smiles gently, reaching up one arm to wipe away the fat tears that spill down your face- it soaks the entire arm of his jacket.

“It was your father’s wish.” He tells you gently, still smiling the whole time.

You feel like the world around you freezes. Like for a moment, you heart stops beating and the world stops turning. You stare, frozen in shock, as Jungkook continues.

“He came here when you were first born. It’s a tradition for the Qu’var to journey to this river when they want to leave a message that will withstand the test of time. The river, and the unique magic that flows here, will protect it. But anyone who comes here has the river magic in them. And when those people make an earnest wish, from the bottom of their heart, then a pixie is born in this river. And your father, in his dying moments, many, many years after coming here, wished with all his heart that he could have shown you this place. That he could have shown you the message he wrote to his baby daughter. And that’s how I was born.”

“It’s not fair.” You sob, crying in full now. Jin is silent- he chooses not to step in. This isn’t about him, after all. “Why did he have to do that? Why could he have just lived and shown me himself? Why do I have to lose you too? Why can’t we just never see the message and then you can stay?”

“Because of the spell.” Jungkook reminds you. “You can’t go home until you see the dancing lights because of the charm I put on you. Do you remember?”

More tears spill down your face as you remember the spell in question. You had thought at the time, that it was Jungkook just trying to force you to get over yourself. You had believed him when he said he’d cast it so that you couldn’t chicken out of something you wanted to do. But you realise now why he cast that spell- it was so that he couldn’t chicken out. So that, no matter what, he’d grant his wish and get you to see that message.

“We’ll stay here. Jin can tell my mum what happened, and we can live out the rest of our days here!” You plead, desperate. “Then you don’t have to-“

“(Y/N).” Jungkook comes in close and presses on your cheek, until you are facing the cliff wall with all the inscriptions on it. Then he flutters over to the discarded torch, heaving it up in his arms with a huff, and holding it out to you. “It’s ok. It’s really ok. I want this. I’ve had my fun with you guys, but it’s not like I’ve really been living a proper life like this. The only people I can talk to are guardians, and they’re so scattered across the human realm. I spend my days watching YouTube videos and talking to moths and waiting for you guys to come home from work. I’ve lived this life as much as I can, but now it’s your turn. I want you to live a full and happy life, and for you to have a family and grow old in the human realm. I don’t want you to be trapped here with me so that I can live half a life for the rest of your days.”

“But,” you protest tearily. “You’re my best friend.”

“And you’re mine.” Jungkook says with a beam. “But now it’s time.”

And then he pushes your arm until the torch lands on an inscription with handwriting you thought you’d never see again.

Your father, even back then, even on stone, has always had beautiful writing, like he could have been a calligrapher if he had the time or resources. Perhaps that’s why he wanted to leave you a written message. You step forward in disbelief until you can read the inscription, the words of the man you’ve missed so much.

(Y/N),

My precious, beautiful daughter.

Your mother didn’t want me to make this journey, but she eventually gave in because she knew how important it was to me.

I wonder what kind of situation we’ll read these words together in? What kind of woman will you grow up to be? Will you be married with children when I finally take you here? That little Seokjin is only a toddler but he’s already charming all the ladies in the village- maybe you’ll marry him! Or I hear Jihye is pregnant. Perhaps her child?

But the reason I wrote this is because I want you to know that no matter what happens, or what roads we walk down in the future, that I will love you and protect you with all of my heart. You are the most beautiful and precious thing I have ever laid my eyes on, and I hope you will always know that.

I love you. I hope that one day, even if it’s without me, that you get to see these words and know, that from before you were born, I have loved you.

Please, please, whatever situation you read these words in, please be happy.

From your father.

The inscription is rough beneath your fingers as you smooth your fingers over it. It hurts to see those words, to know the moments you can never have with your father because he’s gone. And you’ll never get him back. There’s no magic spells or special river or pixie magic that can bring him back to you.

But, for the first time, you find yourself smiling. Those memories don’t have to be painful. Because you fulfilled his wish- you’re happy. As you read these words, despite everything, you are happy. You have friends and family who love you and who you treasure beyond belief. And it took you a long time to realise it, but you’re so grateful. You’ll never get your father back, and you’ll never fill the hole that he left, but you can be happy. You can move forward with a smile on your face because that’s what he wanted.

Strong fingers wrap around your outstretched hand, and you turn to find Jin reading the words alongside you.

“He was a good man.” Jin tells you softly, and you smile at him. Jin looks like he has more to say, but he is interrupted by the brilliant glow coming from behind you.

You turn around and find Jungkook hovering before you. He glows brightly amidst the darkness of the ravine, almost as brightly as the stars overhead. And slowly, the river reacts too. One by one, bursts of light in different, brilliant colours appear and race down the length of the river, like bright, shooting stars. “The dancing river”, one of its many names, suddenly makes sense, as the lights zip and glide along the surface of the water.

“You did it!” Jungkook cries, and his smile is brighter than anything you’ve ever seen. You scramble forward, but the glow intensifies, and a brilliant light wall springs up between you and Jungkook.

“No!” You cry. “Please! Don’t go, Jungkook. We still have so much to do together! Please!”

“Be happy, (Y/N).” He calls and then the light brightens until you can see nothing but pure white.

And then it goes dark. In the absence of light, you can’t see anything before you. Jungkook is gone- he’s gone. Your best friend, your constant, pesky companion, is gone.

You fall to your knees, sinking into the soft, damp sand, sobbing hysterically.

“Jungkook.” You cry, your eyes squeezed shut. “Jungkook!”

Your friendship with Jungkook has always been a funny one. You first met him in the dingy room of a motel your mother had managed to book into, those first few nights in the human realm. You hadn’t been able to sleep- the air was uncomfortable and dry and felt leeched of the warm, buzzing magic that had been your constant companion.

You’d snuck out of the room that night and wondered onto the rooftop. Even the stars are dull, in the human realm, and for some reason it had hurt to see that. You’d gazed up into the sky, tear streaming down your face when a voice had sounded beside you.

“What are you looking at?” The little voice had asked.

The rest is history. You’d attempt to swat Jungkook, thinking him to be a mosquito hybrid, one of the weird creatures of this new realm. But he hadn’t been. He was a pixie. And from there, Jungkook had never really left your side. At night, he would sleep on your pillow beside you. When you’d gotten your own room, you’d made a little doll house for him to sleep in, but he’d always slept by your side. He would come with you to school, nestled in your pocket. Some days he’d take some space, but it had reached the point where you can barely remember spending time without him.

And now… could he really be gone? How can he? What does life even look like without him? You can’t fathom it.

You don’t know how long you sit there crying hysterically for, but eventually you feel warm, strong arms wrap around you. It must be Jin, comforting you through the pain of losing your best friend. You bring your fingers up to grip at the material of his shirt.

“(Y/N)!” Jin cries in alarm. But it’s not coming from the proximity you’d expect, considering that he’s currently holding you. No, his voice is coming from somewhere behind you.

Slowly, you blink your eyes open, and the sleeves of the jacket are not the sleeves of Jin’s jacket. Nor do the arms holding you belong to him. Slowly, you trace the arms up to the shoulders, and then you meet the face of the person holding you.

It’s Jungkook. But at the same time... it’s not Jungkook. Jungkook was a tiny pixie, with iridescent wings like a dragonfly. With a tiny, round face. He was the size of your hand.

But the person who holds you is human. There are no pixie wings in sight, and he’s the same size as you- no, he’s even bigger. He rivals Jin’s size.

But the face is unmistakeably Jungkook. You’d know those round, doe eyes anywhere.

“J-Jungkook?” You question softly. He pulls away and nods, staring at his palms in confusion like he’s never seen them before. “W-what happened?”

“I... I don’t know.” He answers, running his hands over himself. He’s wearing the same clothes as before, and he looks exactly the same as he always has, just... human sized.

“I... I’m human?”

“It must be the effect of granting the spell.” Jin calls, edging closer so that he can examine Jungkook with wonder. “Maybe... maybe the reason there’s no record of any pixies after they grant the wishes... is because they stop being pixies?”

Jungkook can only stare in confusion.

“Isn’t your dearest wish to be human? To be able to talk to people and make friends and form human bonds?” Jin continues to reflect. “Maybe... maybe the outcome of a pixie granting a wish... is that they get their deepest wish granted?”

Jungkook just stares with a bewildered expression, glancing over his shoulders for wings that aren’t there. He then scrambles over to the edge of the river, staring in wonder at the human reflection that stares back, from the normal, rounded ear tips to the lack of wings.

“I’m human?” He questions. Tears fill your eyes as you realise that what Jin is saying is true.

“You’re human!” You agree. “Jungkook! You’re human!”

His whole face lights up in excitement.

“I’m human! Oh my goodness! I’m human! I can go to dance classes! I can study in college! I can get a job! I can... I can...” his expression darkens with mischief and that’s the only warning you get before he hooks an arm around your neck and gives you the most painful noogie of your life. “I can get my revenge.”

Needless to say, the aftermath of such a transformation is absolutely chaotic, but somehow, you can’t bring yourself to be mad. Jungkook goes after Jin next, and as Jin flees for his life, you find yourself smiling, despite everything.

Please be happy, is what your father had pleaded, in the magic of this mystical river.

I am, dad. Is what you answer from the bottom of your heart in the magic of the river.

Because you are.

#jin x reader #seokjin x reader #kim seokjin x reader #castlebangtan #thebtswritersclub #writing

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joheun-saram · 4 years

Text

right here (jhs)

Summary- “That’s the thing about dating your best friend, when you break up you not only lose your partner, you lose the person who would console you too.”

word count- 4.1k

pairing- college!hoseok x reader

rating- pg15

genre- angst, childhood lovers, college au

warnings- drinking, marijuana use mention, mentions of sex but no explicit descriptions

a.n- i’ve been obsessed with keshi’s song right here and so this fic was born. i love hobi and i hurt writing this. s/o to @papillonsgf for reading it and easing my worries 🥺

Feedback much appreciated! 💕 An ask goes a long way... to my heart.

gif is not mine! :)

March 8th, 2:04 am

Y/N: I know it's random, how you've been?

March 11th, 11:26 pm

Y/N: Do you remember 'bout this band you said you listened to?

March 16th, 1:17 am

Y/N: I miss you, Hobi :(

March 16th, 3:43 am

Y/N: Hope life is treating you better...

Hoseok watched across the room as you sat in Taehyung’s lap. Your hand was on his chest as you laughed at a joke while his hand laid on your bare thigh, caressing right where your skirt ended. Hoseok’s drink tasted bitter as he scrolled through the messages you had sent him last month.

He didn’t know why he was so held up on you still. It had been over three months since you broke up but every time you messaged him it was like his heart somersaulted in his chest. He had taken Yoongi’s advice to ignore your messages, in fact, Yoongi had suggested blocking you altogether so Hoseok could have some peace and move on but every time he tried to block you something stopped him. He could never bring himself to do it. It was like every atom in his body revolted against it.

You had dated for two years and even before that, you had been best friends for six years. Now you were a shadow in his life, always there in the background but he couldn’t feel you anymore. Ever present, but he could never catch you. He missed you. He always missed you but it seemed that you were happier now with your new guy. As he watched you cuddling cosily with Taehyung, he was sure that you weren’t even aware that he was at this party.

“I love you, Y/N. Please. I’m only saying this because I love you.” Hoseok maintained his tone despite how angry he felt at your actions. You had just casually told him you were flunking another class as you dressed up to go to another party. He couldn’t believe your cavalier attitude. You had been doing that a lot lately - going out with your new friends and getting wasted beyond your limit. This was how it always went. You’d go out and then come home late, stumbling into bed giggling, your breath reeking of liquor as you cuddled into him. He’d let it pass for months but he could see you disappear. He had tried to convince you to turn it down a notch time and time again but it always ended in the same ugly fight.

“You don’t control the people you love!” You snapped at him from where you stood in your shared bedroom, jacket falling off of one shoulder.

“I’m not trying to control you… Baby, please! I just want you to do better.” He went over to you, fixing your jacket as he cupped your face. He wanted you to understand how much it hurt him to see you this way. You shrugged him off, moving backward.

“Oh just because my grades suck, I’m not doing good?” Malice painted your tone as you raised your voice.

“You know that’s not what I mean, but this is not you. Showing up drunk to class? Staying all night at frat parties? That’s not you!” He matched your volume. He needed you to see that he was not the enemy. He wanted to shake some sense into you.

“Well, maybe you don’t know me, Hoseok.” Your eyes narrowed at him and he felt his heart sink. How could you say that to him? The ice in your tone running through his veins.

“I’ve known you since we were twelve!” He ran his hands over his face in frustration.

“That doesn’t give you the right to tell me how to live!” You poked him in the chest as your anger flared further.

“Please baby. Just talk to me. What’s wrong?” He softened his tone as he clasped your hand poking him in both of his. He knew you. Despite your words, he knew you. There was no way you were suddenly a party animal. There had to be something wrong.

“I just want to enjoy university, is that too much to ask?” You pulled your hand away from his harshly. He didn’t know what he was doing wrong but your anger fed his.

“And blacking out each night is enjoying it?”

“I can’t do this. I can’t have the same fight every night!”

“Then stop. Stop fucking throwing your life away!” He couldn’t help how his voice broke at the end of the sentence. He could never control his emotions, especially when it came to you, and anger fuelled the tears that threatened to escape his eyes.

“Fuck you Hoseok. Fuck you! I’m done!” You pushed past him as you made your way towards the front door.

“What do you mean you’re done? Where are you going?” He grabbed your wrist as you neared the door, tears freely flowing at seeing your face distorted in anger. “Stop. Talk to me.”

“I don’t want to talk to you. I never want to see you again.” Your voice was cold, almost formal. No hint of emotion whereas Hoseok was a bawling mess. He always hated how in control of your emotions you were compared to him.

“Y/N… You don’t mean that. I love you.” He pulled you into a hug and whispered into your hair, holding on for dear life. His heart was racing. He couldn’t lose you. He didn’t know who he was without you. How could you look him in the eye and tell him you never wanted to see him again? Did eight years mean nothing to you?

“I love you too but I can’t do this anymore. You’re suffocating me.” You pushed him off and he could see the tears in your eyes, betraying your carefully put together facade.

“Y/N… please don’t do this.” He pleaded, holding your hand before you harshly shrug him off again.

“Bye Hoseok. I hope you find someone you don’t have to lecture.” You opened the door as you gave him one last withering look before heading out.

“Wait! You can’t just end us like this!”

“I can and I have. I’ll move out tomorrow.” And with that you were gone, disappearing into the night, while Hoseok crumpled to the ground, sobbing, unsure how your relationship had gotten to this point.

Hoseok walked into the kitchen. He needed something stronger than beer. He spotted a bottle of tequila on the counter, thanking his stars that the frat hosting this party was one that provided alcohol. As he poured himself a generous shot, Namjoon appeared slinging his arm around his shoulders, clearly tipsy.

“Hobi! Are you doing shots without me?” He gasped mockingly as he poured himself one too. Namjoon and Hoseok didn’t used to be particularly close but after his breakup with you, both men had bonded over their broken hearts. Namjoon’s girlfriend had cheated on him a few months before and it became a tradition for the two of them to drink in his apartment together. In fact, the only reason Hoseok was here today was that Yoongi had insisted that the two of them take their drinking outside of his and Namjoon’s shared apartment and try to find someone else to get over their heartbreak. He was sure it was only because Yoongi was annoyed by how loud they both got and he needed some peace. He had been roommates with Yoongi in first-year and he felt bad to impose on his friend almost every weekend so he agreed to let Namjoon drag him to this party. Little did he know that you would be here tonight too.

“Never Joon! I wouldn’t betray the heartbreak boys!” Hoseok tried to muster as much excitement as he could, his smile half-hearted and not reaching his eyes. Fortunately, Namjoon didn’t notice as the two took three shots back to back. The sting in Hoseok’s throat felt welcomed, like antiseptic on a bad wound.

“So you know how the best way to get over someone is getting under someone else?” Namjoon questioned, his eyes glazed over, as he looked over Hoseok’s shoulder. Hoseok responded in a hum, barely paying attention as his thoughts clouded over and replayed the way Taehyung’s hands caressed your body. He wished he never saw you tonight. Going from seeing you every day to not seeing you for three months had been terrible, but not as terrible as seeing you in his arms. Before he could delve further into his pain, he felt a tap on his shoulder.

He turned to see a pair of women, one already going into Namjoon’s arms as she pressed her lips to his, and the other introducing herself to him. He barely heard her name and after still not getting it for a second time, he decided to not bother.

He didn’t want to make new friends, didn’t want to get under someone else as Namjoon had so eloquently put it. He just wanted you. She was persistent though, flirting aggressively, taking his disinterest as a cue to work harder. As the shots caught up to him, he just let her. Let her push him against the wall of the kitchen, let her kiss his lips, his neck. Let her run her hands under his shirt. He kissed her back after that but as he closed his eyes, he saw your face. He kissed her harder hoping the image went away but it grew stronger, the memories of you whimpering under him, memories of you laughing as you came. God, you always giggled as you came and he was so weak. The montage of your once happy relationship haunted him and he felt a strong pang of guilt. This girl deserved better than to be imagined as someone else. He needed to get out of here.

Mumbling an apology, he pushed her off himself and grabbed a beer before going to the backyard. It was quieter there, the majority of the partygoers too stoned to be chaotic, the music inside pouring out in a blur of bass and treble. He found a spot on the grass next to a tree as he sat down to compose himself. That girl, whatever her name was, was the first person he had kissed after you, and suddenly he felt an onslaught of emotions. A lump formed in his throat as he remembered your first kiss, after a similar party, when he promised himself that you would be the last person he kissed.

“Shhhhh! We’re gonna wake up Yoongi!” Hoseok giggled as he stumbled into his dorm room and you followed closely behind tripping on the shoes strewn by the door and falling onto him. He wished he was as suave as the guys on tv and caught you but instead he stumbled with you crashing on the floor in a puddle of hushed laughter, your head on his thigh.

“Let’s go to your room before grandpa yells at us.” You snickered as you got on your feet, pulling Hoseok up with you. The two of you walked slowly to his room, changing into sweats and tshirts, before collapsing on the twin bed, his arm under your head. This was a normal occurrence for the two of you. Every time you both went out, you slept over at one of your dorm rooms. In highschool, you would sneak into each other’s bedrooms but the freedom of university made it easier. Lying next to you, Hoseok felt comfortable. Just your presence put him at ease and soon your conversation was dying as his eyes got heavier.

“Hobi?” you whispered next to him making him turn around to face you. You always did this when you were drunk - bargained for cuddles - and as sleepy as he was, Hoseok didn’t feel like protesting as usual, so he put his arm around your waist and pulled you close, his one leg hitched around your hip.

“Goodnight.” He whispered patting the back of your head as he drifted off. What he didn’t expect was for your lips to touch his. It was a soft, lingering peck and it was like he was electrocuted, his eyes flying open. For a moment he thought it was some weirdly vivid dream until he heard you apologize. He had never thought of kissing you before, you were his best friend and he always thought of you as platonic. His platonic soulmate. But as soon as you had kissed him it was like a dam broke inside him, his heart beating fast, his lips tingling, and all he wanted was to do it again.

It was like he was on autopilot, his hand on the back of your neck as his lips silenced your apologies. This kiss wasn’t soft. It was eager, hungry, and Hoseok felt alive. It was like a switch went on in him, the feelings he had apparently repressed for years rushing to the surface at the same time settling him into a haze of endorphins. He couldn’t help grinning against you as your mouth parted for his tongue and he could finally taste you - the cheap wine coolers you drank, the one cigarette you bummed outside the party, and a sweetness that he could only describe as you. He needed you closer, inexplicably closer, as his grip around your waist got tighter, his leg pulling you in further till his knee was almost on the mattress, trying his hardest not to grind against you.

You moaned against his mouth and he knew he would never forget that sound. How did he go so long without realizing how much he needed you? You were always the smarter one between the two of you - of course you knew before him that he would fall for you.

He spent the night making out with you and he knew this was it. This was what they wrote songs about, started wars about. This was love. He felt it bloom within his chest, till the branches set each nerve ending alive. He knew everything about you and you knew everything about him and he never wanted to let anyone else in the way he let you in. He didn’t know if you loved him too yet, but he was ready to convince you that he’d never want to kiss someone like he was kissing you right now.

“This seat taken?”

Hoseok felt his heart clench at hearing your voice. He didn’t want to see you in this state. He was far too vulnerable and drunk right now to control himself when it came to you. He didn’t know how he’d react. Without waiting for his response you made yourself comfortable next to him on the grass, your back against the tree as your shoulder lightly grazed his. He felt like his shoulder was on fire, and he moved slightly away from you.

“How’ve you been Hobi?” Your voice was light, airy, as if you had never stomped on his heart. As if you had never left him sobbing on your porch just a few months ago without so much as a glance in his direction. He wanted to scream at you, tell you how you broke him, ruined him for everyone else, but before he could get a word out, you reached your hand and placed it on his. The innocent touch was too intimate, and he felt a tear roll down his cheek. How did the two of you get here, where your hand on his made him want to hug you and sob on your shoulder. That’s the thing about dating your best friend, when you break up you not only lose your partner, you lose the person who would console you too. All he could do in response to your question was just shrug. He felt pathetic. Why were you torturing him?

“I’m sorry for pushing you away,” you whispered as you squeezed his hand and he finally had the courage to look at you. You looked beautiful - the moonlight reflecting off your skin made you glow. His eyes traced your features from the curve of your brows, to how your eyes gazed at him softened, to the slope of your nose, to finally your lips, parted and shiny from your lip gloss. Before he could stop himself, he was leaning forward, crashing his lips on yours, kissing you quick and short, just enough to get rid of the taste of the girl before, just so he could hold on to you being the last person he kissed for a little bit longer.

It’s when he saw the look of shock on your face that he realized what he had done. Muttering a quick apology, he stood up, ignoring your calls of his name as he walked through the house. He had to leave. He was an idiot. He was an idiot who was never going to get over you. Was this his life now? Watching you from afar, unable to control himself in your presence.

He decided to walk the thirty minutes to your - well now, just his - apartment. He was slower than usual, hoping that the fresh air would clear his mind, but everywhere he looked he was reminded of you. He passed by the ice cream shop where you had your first date and all he could think about was the way you coyly licked the melted ice cream off his fingers and kissed him telling him mint chocolate only tasted good off his tongue. He passed the twenty-four hour tattoo shop where he held your hand as you got your first tattoo at 3 am because you were bored and always wanted one, a little star on your hip. He passed the park where he had found you sulking after your first fight and he picked a wildflower for you, one that he hopes you still have pressed in your favourite book. He could never escape you. When he arrived at his door, he saw you standing there and thought he had finally lost all semblance of reality. That is, until you spoke.

“Baby, are you okay?” The pet name made his heart ache as he looked at you in alarm, realizing that you were actually there. He couldn’t do this. He stumbled back, almost tripping off the porch.

“Y/N… please. I can’t do this.” He pleaded, but he was helpless as you held his hand and guided him into the house, easily navigating him to his bed. You took off his shoes as he laid there, not having enough strength or courage to ask you to leave. He missed the way you would take care of him and he let you even if it's the last time. You didn’t say much as you tucked him under the covers, slowly caressing his hair and arms as he liked so he could fall asleep. This was cruel and he told you as much as silent tears escaped him, your quiet apologies echoing in his head as he fell asleep.

He woke up with a start, blinking at the sunlight that fills his room, groaning as his head ached from the hangover. He thought about the vivid dream he had of you putting him to bed and he couldn’t help but grimace at how pathetic he had become.

Startled was an understatement as he noticed you sitting in the desk chair next to his bed. Your were legs propped on the corner of the bed as you snoozed uncomfortably, your head bent at an odd angle. He noticed the bin next to his bed, right where his head would have been, and the bottle of water with painkillers on the nightstand. It reminded him of the times he had done the same for you and his head replayed the memory of when you walked out on him. Why were you back? Did you really miss him too?

He saw you stir and before he could lie back and pretend to be asleep, you were up, your eyes staring into his. You both sat there in silence just looking at each other. It had been so long that he had forgotten how your eyes could drown him, pull him in inexplicably deep.

You reached for him and before his brain could process it, he was reaching back, muscle memory leaving your fingers intertwined. That was when your facade broke for the first time in months and Hoseok could see a blackened tear that slowly trickled down your face. His eyes followed its path down your cheek as it lingered on your jaw before dripping on to your chest, darkening a spot on the red dress you wore. A few more followed its journey, before you were sobbing, loud cries that seemed to wreck your soul, and Hoseok was weak, pulling you into his chest and letting you use him as a makeshift kleenex. He didn’t know how long you both sat there, you crying on his chest, him holding you tightly, wishing he could stop your pain despite whatever you may have inflicted on him.

By the time you calmed down, he still couldn’t let you go, walking with your hand in his to your once shared kitchen, setting the kettle on. He still stocked your favourite blueberry tea even though he hated the taste. You spoke first after what seemed like hours.

“I dropped out.”

This was not what he had expected. Despite your numerous fights about schoolwork, he still liked to believe he knew you. It was your dream to study art, travel the world to visit galleries, with visions of curating your favourite exhibits. He still remembered all the times you would drag him to the local gallery, waxing poetic about inspirations behind modern art pieces. He never cared much about visual art but your passion had him holding onto every word. He could still recite everything about the history of the impressionist movement and its influences on your favourite artists. He knew that even if you were failing, you wouldn’t just give up on your passions.

“Our family business went bankrupt and so I can’t afford it. It was either this or our house.” Your voice was calm now, even monotonous, as if you had just expelled all the emotions earlier. He let you talk. Let you tell him about how your father had insisted they sell your family home and move to a studio so he could still supplement your tuition. But you could never do that to your family, have them sacrifice their home for something as silly as your childish dreams. Life had brought you to your knees, and you mourned your loss through parties and friends who encouraged your vices.

Hoseok had a hard time processing - he thought he knew everything about you, but you were right that night, maybe he didn’t know you as well as he hoped. He racked his brain for any sign of the misery you spoke of, other than the late nights and he came up empty. To think, he’d been wasting time in the dance studio, with his hobbies, when he could have been helping you.

He felt torn, he felt sad, he felt guilty, but all he could say was “Why didn’t you tell me?” Why had you hidden this from him when he could have lightened your load. He could’ve helped, taken out a loan from his parents, worked a part-time job to help you cover your bills. He was in love with you, didn’t you know that he would’ve done anything to help you? Would still do anything to help you.

“For once, Hoseok, I didn’t want to depend on you. I wanted to do it by myself, for myself.” Your voice was small, almost timid, but your eyes held your convictions. They softened as he squeezed your hand, and you apologized once more, almost pleading him to understand why you had to spend the last months alone, why you couldn’t be honest, but you didn’t need to say much he already understood. He knew you.

He stood from where he was sitting on his stool and closed the distance between you, pulling you into his arms haphazardly, one around your head and other around your shoulders. He squeezed you tight as if he could meld your bodies together, take away the hardships you faced through osmosis. He didn’t know what you expected of him, but all he could do was hold you close, and when you looked up at him, cupping his cheek, he kissed you. He took his time, slowly reacquainting himself to the lips he craved. He didn’t know if the tears he was tasting were yours or his but all he knew was that you were here.

And as you whispered an “I love you” on his lips, he knew that no matter how broken you had left him, for you he’d always be right here.

I hope you liked this angsty piece, for more fics of mine check out my masterlist

#jhope imagines #jhope angst #jhope x reader #bts imagines #bts fanfic #thebtswritersclub #hoseok angst #bts angst #bts au #hoseok fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #hoseok #jhope

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