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joheunsaram · 2 years

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On With The Show (knj)

summary: Eight years after announcing their retirement, Dark & Wild seems to have been left behind. For Namjoon, he could never forget the time his dreams became a reality, and he's determined to retake the charts by storm once again. Struggling with raising a teenage daughter, the loss of his wife and poor writing projects with terrible bands, he’s now had enough. So with a little help from the only remaining active fan site, he embarks on a mission to convince his bandmates that a comeback might not be the mid life crisis they think it is.

word count- 33.9k (🥴💀)

pairing- retired bassist!Namjoon x lawyer!Reader

rating- R

genre- rockstar!au, s2f2l, fluff, smut, angst, slight slow burn, single dad!au

warnings- retired!bangtan, dilf!joon, lowkey making fun of Mötley Crüe but not really, recreational drug use, drug overdose, hospitals, minor character death, depression, protected sex, oral (m and f receiving), too many song references (namjoons catalogue mainly), soft soft joon, joon is dad to a 16yo, jungkook is a shameless dedicated dad to twins, joon is 36, invasion of privacy, lots of talk about being famous

playlist- don’t//aeon ft rm, ny state of mind//nas, bicycle//rm, spring day//bts, always//rm, human behaviour//bjork, death with dignity//sufjan stevens, seoul//rm, outro//maanu, heavenly//cigarettes after dark, trivia love//bts, on with the show//motley crue, war of hormones//bts

a.n- this fic is part of the Can’t Be Tamed collab hosted by @jeonjcngkook. please check out the other fics in the collab, they are all amazing!

I’m very excited to share this fic with all of you! it’s been in the making for a very long time and is the longest one shot I’ve written yet. Hope you enjoy this story and that you remember never to let your inner fan girl down! Hehe💕💕

special s/o to @raplinesmoon and @playmetheclassics for beta reading this for me and to @mapleglasses27 and @bluewhale52 for hyping me up and brainstorming with me! i honestly don’t know what i would do without you all! ily 🥺

Banner by the ever talented @hobeemin 💕😍

As always feedback appreciated, a reblog and a like goes a far way. Send me an ask! 💌

The guitar riff crashed through the speakers, loud and chaotic, distorted to a growl that got the heart beating. Notes cascaded over each other as if chasing themselves in a circle like kids in a park. Soon after, the drums and bass joined them, high hat crashing in time with the snare, the strings of the bass slapping against fingers, pinging loud and clear. A destructive medley morphing into a foot-stomping melody that bounced off the soundproof walls bringing a smile to Namjoon’s face.

A smile that dropped as soon as the vocalist started singing the verse.

“What are the colours of the skies really? They're bright black when falling apart Were our drifts back then okay?”

With a scowl, Namjoon straightened in his seat, turning off the recording,and hitting the button for the mic. The band seemed unbothered as they kept playing, bobbing their heads to the music. It would be commendable how absorbed they were in the music, if they weren’t completely fucking up Namjoon’s song. He cleared his throat into the mic, thankful for the abrupt silence.

“Vince, for the last fucking time. Those are not the lyrics,” Namjoon said, only to be met with an eye roll that boiled his blood. The audacity of these rookies was too high. They had barely debuted two years ago and somehow their egos seemed to have grown infinitely larger.

“And for the last fucking time, man. These work better,” Vince argued through the guitar pick secured between his teeth, using a tattooed hand to push his bright purple hair back. He looked to the three men next to him for support and all of them agreed, nodding enthusiastically. Well everyone except the lead guitarist, Mick, who as per usual was just staring into space, expression as vacant as Vince’s head.

“How do they make sense? What’s fucking bright black? And the colours of the sky?” Namjoon questioned, frustration making itself known from the tick of his jaw as he tried not to explode.

He hated this band. He hated this job. His name held a lot of weight in the industry, and he couldn’t fathom how he had even gotten to where he was right now; writing songs for an over entitled bunch of kids half his age.

Much like any other person in the music industry, Namjoon started with a dream. Well, a dream and a threat from his mom. When he was sixteen, his mother had looked him straight in the eye and given him one year to go out into the real world and make money from the music his friends kept playing in her garage, and if he was unsuccessful, he was to pick up his studies and continue on her dream of him becoming an engineer. And well, Namjoon was a stubborn, talented kid.

Within six months, his band had not only signed onto a label, but Dark and Wild had successfully started preparations for their debut album, one that charted number one worldwide and convinced his mother that the noise he was always playing was worth something.

That number one album turned into platinum, and then so did the next three albums. By the time Namjoon was twenty-two, he was the bassist of the hottest band in the world, his songs being chanted by people of all ages, all races.

World tours, whirlwind romances, and new hotel rooms every weekend became the norm. At the peak of his career, Namjoon was an ambassador for four luxury brands, three alcohol companies, and one electronics conglomerate, his face plastered over billboards from New York to Seoul to Paris. That was also when he became a husband and a proud father to the world’s most beautiful baby girl.

And then, merely a few years later, he lost the love of his life and his band in the span of four months. It wasn’t dramatic, it was life. Everything happens for a reason, and Namjoon believed that for him that reason was the beautiful girl his wife had gifted him.

If his band hadn’t called it quits, he would have never spent time raising her, learning how to be the best dad and learning the way his daughter’s brain worked, so intricate and creative that he sometimes got tears in his eyes just thinking about the fact that he was responsible for creating someone so extraordinary.

Which is why the fact that the bunch of kids in the studio were talking about her made his blood boil, his jaw tensing from all the expletives he wanted to throw at them.

“Dude I can’t believe you picked this boomer cause of his daughter!” Vince taunted his bandmate as he laughed, his nasal snort pumping through the vein now throbbing on Namjoon’s forehead.

“What can I say, man, that chick’s fucking hot, and the way she drums. God damn!” Tommy, the drummer, professed, his hands still holding the sticks now coming to rest on his chest as he leaned back on the stool, the bandana on his head falling backwards with the movement.

Raising a child alone in his mid-twenties had taught Namjoon a lot of things, most of all patience, but he was of the firm belief that not even Buddha would have kept his cool at Tommy’s next words.

“Yo Namjoon! You gotta bring her to the next session. I can really teach her how to bang those drums, if you know what I mean,” he answered with a smile as slimy as his greasy hair, and Namjoon couldn’t help exploding out of his chair, his notebook scattering to the ground as he swiftly made his way to the door of the recording room.

However, before he could pummel that disrespectful worm into the ground, the producer next to him was on his feet, holding him back, his small stature no match for Namjoon’s large build. Seeing red, Namjoon scrambled for the door, falling to the ground and in the process taking the innocent producer down with him. All while the band laughed at him. Generation Swine, what a fitting name for a bunch of pigs.

“Yo boss, you need this gig right?” the producer wheezed from under him, trying to calm down Namjoon with rationality but he didn’t know Namjoon. Thinking about the multiple zeros in his checking account and even more in his investments, his vision cleared, a calm surrounding him.

“I don’t actually,” Namjoon replied, getting back up and helping his coworker with an apology, before he turned back to the band with a condescending smile plastered on his face.

“I quit. And my contract says I can take back my songs. Enjoy an empty album, fuckers.”

With a middle finger in the air, he picked up his messenger bag resting on the couch and his notebook and strolled out. Why hadn’t he just done this before?

—-------

Even though he was notoriously a punk rock artist, nothing calmed Namjoon down more than old school hip-hop, and so as he drove to pick up his daughter, he blasted Nas, rapping along at the top of his lungs.

“Hand me a nine and I'll defeat foes Y'all know my steelo, with or without the airplay I keep some E&J, sitting bent up in the stairway.”

It was as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders. He had been spending hours everyday pouring himself into music that was insightful and poetic, only to be stonewalled by a bunch of unwashed children who thought what punk really was.

Did they really think watering down his lyrics would make them more relatable? He’d been going back and forth with the Swine for months, and yet they didn’t understand that music didn’t really mean anything unless it said something.

Anyone could string together a melody and talk about fucking and destroying property but the greats always had something to say, something to change. They didn’t chase empty avenues with mixed messages, they took a stand. That’s what punk was, not a distorted guitar with the goal to get laid. He knew that at sixteen and he knew that now at thirty-six.

Real music changed lives.

As the track changed to a more mellow beat, he let his fingers tap the steering wheel, cautiously turning into the cul-de-sac and waiting for the gate to Jungkook’s obscenely secure mansion to open before driving down the long driveway. Driving to his house always made him a little nostalgic, mostly because he was proud that his youngest bandmate had finally settled down from his much wilder days, but also because Jungkook’s home always felt like his home.

It was where he had spent much of his time after the band disbanded, his deep depression and the sudden sole responsibility of a six-year old turning him into a useless shell of a human. He would always be grateful to Jungkook for taking him in when he was at his worst and coaxing him out of the darkness. He shuddered to think of how much worse he would have gotten if he hadn’t had the courage to run to Jungkook eight years ago with his daughter in his arms and tears cascading down his face.

He smiled a little, eyes turning to the big box of gourmet donuts he had picked up for his friend’s family. Parking near the front door, he picked up the box, only to be interrupted by the ringing of his phone, the usually calming chimes grating his nerves when he saw his manager’s name light up the screen.

“What Sejin?”

“Don’t what Sejin me! You quit? Are you kidding me?” The usually cheery man yelled through the line, his exasperation easily conveyed through the static.

“Yup,” Namjoon replied stubbornly, popping the syllable at the end, still too happy to have left that band of wannabes behind to be bothered by the scolding he could see coming. “I realised, I’m literally a millionaire. I don’t need this job.”

“Literally a- Again, are you kidding me?!” Sejin sputtered, and Namjoon grimaced as he heard some of his spit land on the speaker. “You do realise you signed a contract right? A two-year contract, to write for them, exclusively?”

“And?” Namjoon egged him on. “There’s that clause right? That I can pay damages or whatever?”

“They are claiming that those ‘damages or whatever’ are over five million dollars! You either lawyer up, or you go apologise to the band.”

Namjoon snorted at the absurdity. The only way anyone could get him to apologize to that bunch of talentless fuckers was if they animated his dead body with Frankensteinian magic. Not wanting to spoil his good mood, he locked his car and made his way to the front door..

“Send me a list of lawyers,” he said curtly before hanging up on a seething Sejin. He should’ve been worried, or at the very least concerned, by a threat from a very large and influential record label, but Namjoon was finally free and nothing was going to get him down. Not when as soon as he rang the bell, he was greeted by his daughter, a large grin on her face, the dimples that matched his etching deeper into her cheeks.

“Dad! You know you don’t have to drive slow even on a driveway, right?” she teased, giving her father a side hug and greedily reaching for the box of doughnuts, which he raised above his head.

“Moonie, these are for the twins!” he chastised, returning her hug and ruffling her hair only to annoy her, chuckling as she whined at him.

“Joon! You gotta stop bringing sweets! I’m gonna lose my abs!” Jungkook shouted from the foyer, walking over with one of his boys in his arms, the other running behind him. Jun-seo copied his father as he pulled a wincing Jungkook’s hair, and Namjoon couldn’t stop cackling at how cute “I’m gonna lose my abs!” sounded coming from a three-year old’s mouth.

He greeted his friend before leaning down and swooping Hyeon from the ground in his arms, trying to make conversation with the shyer twin as his daughter took the box of doughnuts, opening to look for her favourite. It didn’t take long for Jungkook to coax him into having dinner with his family, laughing at the way Moon sighed in relief of not having to endure her father’s terrible cooking for the night.

Nothing could be more relaxing than having dinner with his closest friends and his daughter, Namjoon thought as he helped Jungkook’s wife wash the dishes, taking care not to let any of his clumsier tendencies shine through. There were only so many of her dishes he could break before she would ban him from the house completely. He smiled as she told him about her day and how the twins had somehow started a paint war with the neighbouring kindergarten class, resulting in her trying to talk the principal out of suspending them.

“They can suspend someone in kindergarten?” he asked, incredulous, wiping the last of the dishes and pouring himself a glass of water.

“You know how people are, Joon. Just cause we have our personal lives plastered all over they assume that we can’t parent,” she sighed, joining him at the breakfast nook, a sad smile on her face. “That’s why I’ve been so against nannies, you know… Because what if they’re right?”

“Hey they aren’t right. You and Jungkook are great parents,” he squeezed her shoulder as he consoled her, happy to see her smile more genuinely at his compliment.

“And we don’t need babysitters cause we have Moon,” she said, looking up at him with a mischievous smirk her sons had inherited from her before she softened. “You’re a great parent too, Joon.”

Namjoon’s heart warmed at her words. He had often thought that perhaps a lack of a mother would make Moon lonely, make her want a more stable female presence. He was happy that Jungkook’s wife had filled that role for her somewhat, acting like a mother even when she didn’t have to, from teaching her about periods to gossiping with her about boys. Things that Namjoon still found a bit awkward to connect with Moon about. It was not that he was bad at it, it was just that he had never experienced those things himself, so who was he to teach her about them?

The heartfelt moment was interrupted by Jungkook entering the kitchen, a scowl on his face as he looked at Namjoon.

“You quit?” Jungkook asked, voice strained as he poked the inside of his cheek. Namjoon could feel that his friend was angry but he was still too ecstatic from leaving that dreadful job behind, so he just smiled, nodding in response.

“They are gonna sue you! Are you serious?” Jungkook seethed, confusing Namjoon who couldn’t for the life of him figure out why he was so upset, especially when he already had an amazing back up plan. At least not until his next words left him, making Namjoon bow his head in shame.

“You have Moon to think about. Do you think she’d like the media circus?”

“I just couldn’t take it anymore,” he exhaled, his teeth worrying his bottom lip as he came clean about his outburst, the days of building frustration as the band took his hard work lightly and spent hours drinking and getting high instead of working.

Jungkook seemed to soften as he spoke, and Namjoon couldn’t help but take the melting of his anger as encouragement as he continued, letting him into his backup plan, “We were so much more serious than them. We had a work ethic. We still could… Would it be so bad if Dark and Wild got together again?”

“P-pardon?” Jungkook sputtered at Namjoon’s words, coughing as he tried to wrap his mind around a comeback. Turns out Namjoon’s plan wasn’t foolproof and his heart fell as his friend vehemently disagreed, not wanting to be away from the twins to be back on the rock and roll train. He missed that life too, but unlike Namjoon, he had made his peace with it, happy to let it go to be a full-time father.

“I was a dad when the band was together,” Namjoon argued, not willing to let go of his renewed dream.

“And look what happened to Seo!” Jungkook spat, instantly regretting his words as Namjoon’s face fell. However, no matter how quickly Jungkook apologised, Namjoon couldn’t listen, the grief he had buried away clawing at his chest again. With a curt goodbye amongst the apologies, he asked Moon to follow him and made his way to the car.

“Dad… you okay?” Moon asked, once they were on the way home, worried about the way her father sat in silence when usually she would have a hard time making him shut up.

She knew he got this way occasionally, too deep in his head, and she had a sneaking suspicion it was whenever he missed her mom, and so when she didn’t hear a response, she leaned over, placing a hand over his on the steering wheel to loosen his grip.

Namjoon smiled at her, a hand leaving the wheel to squeeze her fingers between his. Sometimes he forgot that she wasn’t a kid anymore, that she was mature, empathetic almost to a fault, able to read his mind with just a look.

Namjoon promised himself that he would always be honest with her, be it about his feelings or things happening in his life. He had kept his promise whenever she would ask about her mom as a lost six year old and he kept his promise now as he told his sixteen year old about the argument he had just had with Jungkook.

In a lot of ways it helped him process the conversation, coming to terms with Jungkook’s fear from Moon’s insight. She was right when she said that it had less to do with blaming Namjoon when he was away from her mother, but more to do with her uncle’s fears of the same happening to his wife, no matter how irrational the thought was.

Namjoon couldn’t help but stare at her, mouth falling open in shock.

“Tell me again how you’re only in tenth grade?” he teased. “When did you get your psychology degree?”

“Come on dad. No one really needs university nowadays. You can just learn everything from Re-”

“You’re going to university. I don’t care how much Reddit can teach you,” Namjoon interrupted, eyes narrowed as he pulled into his designated parking space in the lot under their apartment. “You can get a real degree and then you can be my therapist.”

“I can’t be your therapist,” she huffed, crossing her arms with a scowl that reminded him of her mother so much he couldn’t help but smile. “That's a conflict of interest!”

He burst out laughing at her words, getting out of the car and helping her carry the multiple boxes of food Jungkook had prepared for the two of them, insisting that they take them despite the cold exit. Moon melted at her father’s joy, punching the code for the top floor as she adjusted her backpack. When the doors closed, she looked at him grinning widely.

“You know, War of Hormones is going viral on TikTok,” she commented, laughing at the way Namjoon groaned at the mention of his slightly cringey debut single. “I think you guys still have fans. A lot of them. People are still making thirst traps of all of you.”

“What’s thirst traps?” Namjoon asked as the private elevator opened up to their apartment, the smell of cedar and sandalwood calming him after a stressful day.

“You know like this,” she said, following her father into the kitchen and placing the boxes on the counter before pulling out her phone and scrolling through the app. She handed Namjoon the phone and he had to stop his eyes from falling to the floor at the video in front of him.

Set to an extremely horny rap about wanting someone’s dumptruck in their little garage was a video of Hoseok thrusting into the air as he sang into the mic, following by a close up of Jungkook as he took his shirt off and threw it into the crowd, just as it moved to a video of Yoongi licking up the strings of his guitar, a smirk on his face as he made eye contact with the camera.

Then there was Seokjin, Jimin and Taehyung at one of their sold out shows, ripping the buttons of their shirts simultaneously while winking at the crowd, and Namjoon couldn’t help but laugh at the how stupid they looked. The last clip was of him holding Moon as he brought her two-year old self on stage, big yellow muffs protecting her ears from the noise as he let her strum on his bass.

“Wait, why am I the only one not being sexy?” he questioned, frowning.

“I don’t know. I guess people love you being a dad,” she shrugged, taking her phone back, laughing at how ridiculous all of her uncles looked during their glory days, before looking at her father and giving him a tight hug. “I love you too, dad. And I think you still have a lot of fans who’d love a comeback.”

Namjoon’s heart dissolved in his chest, filled with warmth as he kissed the top of his daughter’s head, returning her hug ten fold, squeezing her to his chest as she squirmed. That night after she had gone to bed, Namjoon researched his fans. If Moon thought that fans still existed, maybe he could convince the guys to give the comeback a shot. They always did love Shadows more than anything.

Scrolling through numerous web pages, he stumbled on to a fansite that was surprisingly still active, posting periodic updates about Dark and Wild’s current careers, as well as edits of their old selves, and pleading for a comeback. Perhaps the way to his band member’s hearts was a heartfelt plea from a Shadow, and how apt that the username was yummyjungkookie.

His scrolling through nostalgia was interrupted by a text from his manager, a list of lawyers that were fit to go over his case with him. Picking the first name, he sent an appointment request.

However, not before messaging yummyjungkookie and asking for a meeting.

—-------

With a heavy exhale, you entered your apartment, leaving your heels haphazardly by the front door and your bag littered on the floor. Today had been an exceptionally stressful day and you could feel every joint in your body creak as you laid on the couch. Stretching, you thought about the weird email you had received. Well, two very weird emails.

Somehow when you started working in corporate law, you wouldn’t have thought your trajectory would lead to working on celebrity contracts. Initially it was an easy choice; getting paid exorbitant amounts of money for advising clients and looking over contract disputes that usually never ended in court. However, now you were tired of behind the scene action. You wanted to see inside of a courtroom again, to argue, to research prior cases that would help you form the perfect closing statements. There was a thrill to fighting a case in the courts, and you envied your friends from university who were working on class action suits against greedy landlords and other corporate vultures.

Today was supposed to be the day you gave in your two week notice, to pursue something less money-based. It was a privileged position, but you were a single woman in her early thirties, and with your last relationship burning to the ground, you often looked at your ever increasing savings account with disdain, as if your ambition was responsible for Ryan cheating. But when you walked into your firm’s partner’s office with your resignation letter in hand, he convinced you otherwise by handing you a new case.

It wasn’t a particularly exciting case, a pretty straightforward contract violation, but the moment you heard who you would be representing, you couldn’t go through with your plan. Your younger self would have murdered you if you did so.

You could see your nineteen year old self, decked out in the Dark and Wild merch that still lived in your closet, standing behind your boss as he talked about the case. Because you would be representing none other than Namjoon Kim, notorious bassist of Dark and Wild. Even though he was arguably your least favourite member, considering that he used to be a bit goofy and a little bit of fuckboy even with a kid, you would carry on your duty as a loyal fan and get him out of this bind.

After all, once a Shadow, always a Shadow.

You were somewhat a menace in undergrad, from almost missing exams because the band was doing an album signing, to following them on tour each summer, to even getting their lyrics tattooed on your ribcage.

You chronicled your interactions with them in your blog with high quality photos, which became almost notorious in the Shadow circle, your followers skyrocketing with their fame. In a way their disbandment was a blessing for you, you were not sure how you would have dealt with the workload of law school if you were still keeping up with them.

Groaning you rose from the couch, deciding a drink would help calm you down. Pouring yourself a glass of cabernet, you settled back on the couch, opening your blog on your laptop and staring at the other email you had received out of the blue.

Either Namjoon Kim was stalking you or this eerie coincidence was the fruit of years of obsessive manifestation. However, if it was, it would be Jungkook Jeon emailing you. You wondered if he still had those fantastic abs from back in the day. God, those things could cut glass.

Controlling your sudden thirst, you took another sip of your wine, thinking best to reply to the email you had received.

Hi yummyjungkookie. You’re probably wondering why I’m messaging you. Well, I have a proposition. I was wondering since you are the only active fan site we have left, if you’d be interested in helping us do an analysis of current fan culture, well Shadow culture. Let me know and we can set up a meeting! -Namjoon PS: In case you think this is a troll, here’s a photo proof

Below his email was a photo attached of the man himself, round glasses making him look younger than his age with a card on which the date and time was haphazardly written.

You laughed at how seriously he had taken the request, although you were sure you would not have believed him if he didn’t attach the proof. Your laughs only got louder as you read the next message he had sent.

Oh shit. I guess I should also say, please don’t tell people about this. You won't, right? -Namjoon

“What are you cackling at?” your roommate, Hera, questioned as she stepped out of her room, hair a mess as if she had just woken up. Well, knowing her, she probably had. She was notoriously nocturnal, being a freelance artist had that effect.

“Nothing. Just a meme,” you replied, somehow endeared enough by the email to keep it a secret. Hera walked over to the couch, yawning and reaching for your glass, taking a big swig and ignoring your scowl. You loved Hera. You had been friends since law school, but somehow as soon as she dropped out of law school she had become a little overbearing.

“Alright. What’s for dinner?” she asked, stretching her limbs out on the couch as she leaned back and turned on the television. You rolled her eyes at her, getting up to finally change.

“I already ate after work,” you pouted to get off the hook easier before apologising and going to your room.

“Ugh. I guess I’ll go on a date then. Enjoy your sad nostalgia blogging, you loner,” she called from the living room, grating your nerves as you locked yourself in your room, waiting for her to leave, so you could order food and not share. It may be petty but you were tired of paying for her meals, on top of paying for the rent.

—-------

“Wait so you called us all here to ask us to get the band back together?” Yoongi asked, eyes scrunched in disbelief. Or the early hour, Namjoon wasn’t sure. To be fair, Namjoon should’ve seen the reaction coming, considering how Jungkook had reacted, but he still had hope.

Namjoon had spent the past two days going over the fansite he had found and it encouraged him to set up the brunch meeting with his friends. If a stranger was working so hard to keep their fans engaged, shouldn’t they also do something. Didn’t they owe their fans something? Apparently the argument wasn’t as convincing as he thought it would be.

“Okay I’m not saying I’m fully against a comeback, but come on Joon. We’re has-beens… Shadows don’t even exist anymore,” Seokjin said, sipping a mimosa, freshly tanned from an impromptu trip to the Maldives.

“Speak for yourself. I will never be a has-been,” Jimin sneered, cutting into his eggs before spouting about how his singles were still reaching number one.

“That’s cause you went pop,” Taehyung argued with a grimace, pretending to throw up into his frittata, just as the waitress came by to ask if they needed anything else.

“That’d be all. Thank you,” Jungkook answered her with a huge smile just to watch her blush, and Namjoon couldn’t help rolling his eyes at the man. Perhaps bringing the chaotic group together was a bad idea. Perhaps bringing them to a high end restaurant where the average diner was a retired businessman was an even worse idea as he tried to make his friends lower their volume, especially Hoseok who was very loudly protesting that his very full schedule of production didn’t have any room for a comeback.

“Guys!” Namjoon snapped, rubbing his hands over his face in frustration. “Just please think it over–”

“It would take so long though. We don’t even have any songs… I haven’t even picked up the guitar in a while,” Seokjin interrupted, the mimosas taking their effect and turning his face a flushed red, as he looked sadly at the tablecloth, and Namjoon couldn’t help feeling a little guilty. He knew the disbandment was his fault. If he had handled things better at home, they wouldn’t have lost their friend to the chaos of the lifestyle, and Moon would still have her mom. Thinking about it lodged a lump in his throat as he tried to console the group with the only solution he could think of.

“I have three albums worth of songs written,” he declared quietly, biting his lip and looking for a reaction, only for Yoongi to speak up.

“I may or may not also have two albums worth.”

“Same,” Hoseok and Jimin spoke at the same time, and Namjoon couldn’t help smiling at how even though everyone had apparently put Dark and Wild behind them, they still couldn’t let go.

“So do you guys think we can do it?” Namjoon asked hopefully, trying not to be dejected by the way Jungkook stared at his hands, deep in thought, fingers tracing the tattoos on his knuckles. The response from the rest of the men was lukewarm as it was in the beginning but somehow now they were all reminiscing too, talking about their glory days. About the time Jimin stripped on a bartop as a dare. About the time Jungkook got so high he thought the television was recording him so he did the most rational thing he could think of and tossed it out of their 40th floor hotel room window. About the time Namjoon ran away so fast from a groupie that he had missed that the glass door wasn’t open and smashed right through it – he still had a scar on his right collarbone from it. Somehow through the road of nostalgia, a little glimmer of excitement started growing, like the embers of a campfire dying out, but needing just the right gust of wind to relight.

“But what if we don’t have the same appeal now… We’re definitely not young anymore,” Seokjin said quietly, as if he was scared to voice out his thoughts, and Namjoon couldn’t help reaching out to him, placing a hand on top of his in a form of encouragement. He had the same fears. A band in their twenties was the norm, in their thirties, on the other hand…

Perhaps they were all being silly. Thirty wasn’t old by any means but the music industry was especially vicious when it came to age. However, Namjoon tried to put the question of their sex appeal to rest as he pulled out the fansite he had stumbled on earlier, sharing the seemingly unlimited ‘thirst’ posts from the blogger, much to the men’s amusement.

“Well I trust this person,” Jungkook said after a thorough scroll, earlier mood seemingly lightened. “I am in fact yummy.”

“And I really am World Wide Handsome,” Seokjin gloated, much to everyone’s annoyance.

“I contacted her,” Namjoon said carefully, hoping he wasn’t about to get a scolding, and when he received only curious looks, he continued. “I’m thinking we can get her opinion. A real Shadow’s opinion. Perhaps she has friends. She could really let us know if the fans are for us or not. Under an NDA, of course!”

“How do you know she won’t just be wishing for us to be back together?” Yoongi sighed, remembering the almost obsessive tendencies his fans had.

“You know that one fan that wrote a whole essay defending our disbandment?” Namjoon asked a bunch of nodding heads. “This is the one.”

“I can’t believe they published someone called yummyjungkookie in the New York Times,” Hoseok laughed, his contagious cackles cracking everyone else up as well, before the laughter petered into silence.

“Let’s see what she says, and then we can decide,” Jungkook ended the conversation decidedly, before the bill came and all seven men started arguing about who was going to pay, no one willing to put their credit card away much to the waitress’s chagrin.

—-------

Off the high of the semi-successful brunch, Namjoon couldn’t sit still in the lawyer’s plush office. He looked around, tapping his feet. It was a nice office, personal yet professional, warm with deep oak furniture and shelves full of law books and fiction alike.

A giant desk took up the northern end, in front of the glass wall that overlooked the city, a big leather chair seemingly belonging to the lawyer in question facing the desk. There were a few posters on the walls, classic movies as well as music festivals. A couch sat in the corner with potted monsteras, magazines scattered on the glass coffee table.

Namjoon felt oddly comfortable, but that might be because he was certain the lawyer used the same candles that littered his home, the soft pinewood scent relaxing him. Eyes roaming to read the titles of the books on the shelf, he couldn’t stop smiling at the little windchime attached to the corner.

People wouldn’t know it at a glance, but if you knew it was unmistakably his band’s merch – limited edition merch at that. He wondered if the lawyer he was meant to meet was a fan, or if they were just so old that they had received it from their children and put it up. Namjoon was pretty proud that the windchime he had designed was given a place in a room where everything seemed to be carefully handpicked.

“Sorry for keeping you waiting, Mr. Kim.”

Namjoon heard the slightly raspy voice call out, and he stood up to greet the person. However, he was a little taken aback when his eyes met yours, his throat running a little dry and his nerves spiking for no reason. Well no reason other than his immediate attraction to you.

It should be illegal for someone to look that good in a simple red suit and a pair of black heels. His eyes traced your features of their own accord, lingering at the little necklace that nestled between your collarbones, and the wisps of your hair that lined your eyebrows.

“Mr. Kim?” you asked, and a furious flush rose up his cheeks as he realised he hadn’t answered. Stuttering a response, he sat down at your insistence, agreeing to a coffee that you rang your assistant for. If you were a fan, you didn’t seem to give it away, jumping right into business as you talked about loopholes in the contract that could get Namjoon off with minimal penance.

While Namjoon was nodding along, pretending not to pay attention to the way your fingers looked so delicate pointing out the different clauses in the document, you were internally screaming. It took everything you had to keep your cool.

You had imagined that it would be business as usual meeting one of the guys you had spent most of your youth following around but your heart had other plans, beating stupidly fast. Even if Namjoon wasn’t your favourite member, it was still Namjoon Kim of Dark and Wild.

You could tell he wasn’t paying attention to whatever you were saying, and you couldn’t help but feel like you were boring him. You tried to lighten up the dry vernacular with a few jokes that went unnoticed, so you tried to shock him into listening at the end of your meeting.

“Ah, now that we’re done. Let’s talk about your proposition,” you commented off handedly, watching as he looked at you with rapt attention, biting his lip. Was he nervous?

The thought made you laugh. Why would he be nervous? You already explained that the case was easy to settle. It was pretty run of the mill. Contrary to popular belief, a lot of songwriters worked to break their contracts after a few months of working with a band. Creative differences were inevitable sometimes.

“Proposition?” Namjoon asked, swallowing hard, scared that his thoughts had somehow been vocalised. Perhaps you could read his mind. That would be a very handy superpower for a lawyer. Wait what if you actually had mind-reading powers?

What if you knew how he had just spent thirty minutes trying to figure out how he could ask you out for dinner, or if he could simply just bend over your desk.

Fuck, he really needed to reel it in.

“Yeah you emailed me about doing an analysis on fan culture?” you answered with a grin, enjoying the reveal. Namjoon had been a rockstar for most of his life, jamming out confidently on stage, so it was extra funny seeing him so clueless. That was before he became flustered, turning a bright red.

“Oh shit? Did I fuck up my emails? I meant to send that to… someone else,” he stumbled, pulling out his phone and scrolling through his emails.

“Yummyjungkookie, right?” you asked, relishing the way his jaw dropped and his eyes widened in disbelief before reaching your hand out, “Nice to meet you.”

“What the fuck…” Namjoon mumbled, taking your hand in his and shaking gingerly, before recovering. “You’re… you’re yummyjungkookie?”

“The one and only,” you grinned.

“But you’re a lawyer…” he said in awe. Never in a million years he would’ve thought the beautiful, polished, somewhat cold woman standing in front of him was the same person who evidently followed him on tour and wrote sonnets about Jungkook’s left bicep. He thought all his fans were kids in inappropriate clothing, but then again the last time he had seen his fans was when he himself was a kid in inappropriate clothing. It made sense that as he grew up, so did his fans – apparently into super intelligent, professional women.

“Yes I am,” you said smugly, loving the way he seemed so shocked. You hadn’t thought to reveal yourself, but your embarrassment over the nickname was taking a backseat to his surprise. It made you somewhat giddy. “So do I need to sign an NDA?”

“Yes. I can mail it to you. One second,” he said, gathering his wits as you giggled at the way he dropped his phone while scrambling for it. Once he had sent the email, you quickly printed two copies, signing after reading over the straight forward terms as he did the same.

You had to control your squeal when he laid out his plans. A comeback? Dark and Wild were actually getting together and needed your help to analyse if they had any fans. You had no idea whether you could actually help him, but just the fact that he had asked you was every Shadow’s dream come true, and you could see your inner nineteen year old jumping up and down in excitement, the banner you had made out of your dorm’s bed sheet waving in the air.

Maybe it was a good thing you were a loser who still blogged about your favourite band.

—-------

Namjoon hummed to himself in the elevator, Moon’s favourite pizza in his hands warming him as he smiled at nothing. Excitement was brimming through his body, uncontained as all his plans seemed to be working out. Generation Swine was taken care of, well pretty much. He trusted you with the case, and he trusted you with convincing the band that they were definitely not has-beens. He couldn’t wait to share the news with his daughter as he entered his apartment, placing the box on the dining room table before making his way to her door.

“I’m fine,” Moon’s voice carried through the door, and Namjoon had to stop himself from barging in when he heard her sniffle. Why was his baby crying? “It’s just that I’m worried about dad… When mom died, he was so broken.”

Namjoon felt his heart drop to his stomach, a lump forming in his throat as he eavesdropped. He hated listening in. Moon was pretty much an adult, she deserved her privacy, but when another voice spoke, dampened by the line of the speakers, he stayed rooted on the spot, vying for some insight into her sudden sadness.

“He’s better now, Moonie,” the voice said.

“I know. I know. But sometimes he still gets sad. He thinks I don’t notice but I do. I joked about smoking some weed the other day and it was like his life flashed before his eyes. He looked like he was going to cry… I just… I get scared of letting him down sometimes,” she sighed.

“You know you’re never going to do drugs. He knows you’re never going to do drugs. You’re not gonna let him down.”

“I know that but… I look like her,” she sniffled, and Namjoon felt his heart break further. Had he really been putting so much pressure on his teenager that he didn’t notice the way she seemed to be feeling so guilty. He was scared of her trying drugs, given her mother’s death, but he never thought that he was making her feel like she couldn’t be like her mother, especially when she continued talking.

“I’m scared that I remind him of her everyday, and that looking at me makes him sad. I just wish he found someone or even if he didn’t, that he went out more. He quit his job and I don’t want him to be depressed again.”

“He’s not sad to look at you, idiot. He’s your dad. He knows you look like your mom. It’ll be dumb if he didn’t!” Moon’s friend exclaimed, and Namjoon relaxed a little at hearing his daughter chuckle in response.

His mental health hadn’t been the greatest since his wife passed away, years full of ups and downs that he tried to hide from his daughter as he worked through therapy. But evidently he hadn’t been too good at hiding that part of himself, and a tear escaped without his consent when he thought about the burden she had been carrying.

He opted not to listen to more, walking to the kitchen to dry his eyes as he set the table. Once he was sure that he had his emotions under control, he called out for dinner, smiling when his daughter walked in after a few minutes in her pterodactyl onesie. Sometimes he still couldn’t believe that she was almost an adult, that she had grown so much. Unable to help himself, he hugged her to his chest, kissing the top of her head repeatedly as she whined about being unable to breathe.

“Ew dad, why are you being so clingy?” she groaned, pushing him away.

“Just missed you today, is all,” Namjoon said, pulling the hood of the onesie over her head, just to annoy her as she sat on the table to eat.

“Gross,” she replied despite the smile on her face as she dug in, thanking him for the pizza. He laughed, telling her about his day as she shared about how she had finally mastered the drums for YYZ, a Rush song she had been learning for a week.

He beamed proudly when she played him the song after dinner, trying his best not to tell her that looking at her could never make him sad. That all he saw was how proud he was that despite his fuckups, she had turned out more than perfect.

—-------

Sitting on your dining table, you stared at the blank document on your screen, the blinking cursor mocking you for your lack of ideas. Sighing, you switched the tab to the google search you had done, littered with journal articles talking about fan culture. Although you had three case files to go over that your paralegal had been hounding you about, you really wanted to create a plan for Namjoon, regardless of your lack of knowledge.

“Working on your boring lawyer stuff?” Hera asked, placing an elaborate gold and ruby necklace around her neck before turning to you in a silent request to clasp it for her. You obliged, standing up from your chair, an idea forming.

“Hey. You have fans for your art,” you commented, grabbing a glass of water as she continued getting ready, lacing her ballerina stilettos. She hummed for you to continue. “How do you manage them? Like check their retention, interact with them, and all?”

“God, you’re such a nerd,” she laughed, opening her purse to pull out a lipstick, dabbing it on her lips with her front view camera as the mirror. “You just put stuff out there, fans will follow. They don’t need interaction or those fancy terms. You just do you, they come.”

You knew for a fact that she was incorrect. Even running your somewhat small anonymous blog you knew that the weeks you didn’t interact with your audience, when you didn’t answer their messages or reply to their comments, your popularity dipped. People liked being seen, especially from those they admire. It boggled your mind how she made money when she was always so blase about everything, coasting through life like nothing required effort.

“Where are you off to, anyways?” you asked, settling back into your chair to skim through the numerous articles you had found.

“Going out with my boyfriend,” she grinned, wiggling her eyebrows as you stared at her in disbelief.

“Wait, you’re dating? Who?” you returned her smile, excited for her to be in a relationship after she had been wanting one for so long. You couldn’t count the number of weekends you had to resort to headphones while she looked for the one between her bedsheets.

She was a hopeless romantic of sorts, thinking that a relationship was the cure to everything, yet she had notoriously high standards. You blamed her obsession with Disney movies for that, but you couldn’t help the way you warmed at the flustered look on her face, biting her lip as she tried to not smile.

“You know him actually,” she said much to your surprise. “But you can’t judge me if I tell you! Promise me!”

Laughing at her sudden pleading, you promised, waiting for her to continue. However, your laugh was short-lived when the name escaped her lips. She was right, you did know him. You knew him very well, had spent years with him, had almost moved in with him before he decided to stomp on your heart.

“Ryan? You’re dating Ryan?!” you couldn’t control your volume, the absurdity of the woman who had dreamt of prince charming settling for someone who didn’t even deserve coal at Christmas.

“You promised you wouldn’t judge,” she argued, standing up with a huff. “He’s changed. He became better for me!”

“Became better for you? What does that even mean? Hera, Ryan’s trash!” It was too hard to even say his name, your brain flooding with memories of how he had laughed at you when you asked him if he was cheating on you. How he had placated you with kisses, assuring you that you were being paranoid, only to be caught a few months later with a girl in your bed.

“Just because he couldn’t love you, doesn’t mean he’s trash!” she yelled back, unaware

how her words cut through you. Not knowing how to respond as she ranted about you being unlovable and how Ryan had told her he found you boring and uptight, you took your leave.

Grabbing your laptop you headed out, willing yourself to not break.

—-------

You didn’t know where you were driving to, running around the city in circles. Usually it calmed you down, to have your music playing so loud that your thoughts couldn’t infiltrate, but today it felt as if they were crashing about, the cacophony drowning the dulcet tunes of Hoseok’s singing.

Instead of clearing, your mind was full of the last memories of your relationship, of how the man you loved would manipulate you, make you feel small in moments where you should’ve felt out of this world. You had confided in Hera, had cried with your head on her lap as she stroked your hair and assured you that he was scum. You had believed her, used her words to slowly build yourself up, to learn to love yourself again.

But now it was Hera throwing the poisonous words that he had embedded in your self-image, ones that took too long to pry out, ones that left scars that you were too terrified to look at even after over a year. You couldn’t help the tears that flowed to the bass playing in the background, overwhelmed yet knowing that you shouldn’t be.

When your eyes got too blurry, you parked next to a random park, taking deep breaths and practising the techniques you had learnt. Hera’s words were just words, they didn’t define you, they didn’t control your emotions.

Only you were responsible for how you saw yourself, and even though you felt like shit right now, it would pass. You were allowed to feel the way you were feeling.

Your deep breathing was interrupted by the ringing of your phone, a name you never thought you’d see lighting up your screen. Clearing your throat, you schooled your voice to resemble normal before picking up.

“Hello?”

“Hey. Sorry this is random, but I had a few ideas. Do you mind meeting up?” Namjoon’s voice broke through your thoughts and you sighed a little, finding comfort in his dulcet baritone. It was a different tone than the one he used for meetings or the one you had heard in interviews, and somehow it felt familiar. Blaming the feeling on your rattled emotions, you agreed to his request, fixing your face to drive to his studio.

Walking into the large skyscraper you were surprised that the security at the front already had your information, providing you with a temporary employee card rather than a run of the mill visitor pass.

With your sour mood, you really hoped helping Namjoon with his project wasn’t about to turn into a part time job. As dedicated as you were to being a Shadow, your days were often long and exhausting, and carving time for another thing just seemed like too much at the moment. Perhaps he would notice how stupidly incapable you were for the task and request an actual marketing firm to do the research for him.

Visiting his studio, however, was a dream come true. You had always loved the music he created for Dark and Wild, and immensely enjoyed the livestreams he would do describing his process after each album. It was always interesting to hear how much actually went into creating a seemingly simple track, how much he thought through his lyrics, how different the finished product sounded from the acoustic demos he showcased.

Much like the personality you had come to learn about in your time as a fan, his studio was a utopia of calm, plants scattered about, thriving even in a seemingly dark room. A glass separated the recording booth from the main area, which housed multiple cream couches decorated with colourful cushions, some even with the band on them.

On the walls were their records, different colours signifying which had gone platinum – most of them. There was a large monitor attached to the glass wall of the recording booth, a large gaming chair facing it on which sat Namjoon, fiddling with the mouse. The large screen embarrassingly enough had your blog on it as the man in question scrolled, laughing at your somewhat unhinged comments.

“Please stop stalking my blog,” you deadpanned and he turned the chair to face you with a large smile on his face.

“Only fair. You stalked me all these years,” he teased, loving the way your face scrunched in disbelief. He liked how you looked today, probably more than how he found you at the meeting. Dressed in a matching pink sweat suit, you somehow looked a little softer, and definitely less intimidating than the woman spouting the Federal Reclamation Law off the top of her head. It made him glad he had gathered the courage to ask you for a meeting.

“And it got you more famous. Your point?” you replied, ignoring the heat that was creeping up your back. You really should’ve gone through your blog and parsed through all the very horny comments you had left on their photos, but then again they should take it as a compliment. You were only appreciating them!

“My point is,” Namjoon began, leaning on his elbows as he gestured for you to sit on the couch in front of him, “You’re talented at getting people hyped up. And I want to make all the other blogs I found get active again. I have a list!”

His proclamation was followed by an actual list he had compiled that he handed to you, and being in the fandom for so long, you knew almost all of the fifteen names, some of them even personally. It may have seemed that the Shadow fandom was massive, but when it came to bigger blogs, it was actually pretty small, all of you constantly running into each other at events at some point of your fan careers.

“Well, six of these are moms now and they don’t even have time to breathe, let alone continue following you guys. I don’t know about these four, but Sera is in prison,” you said.

“Prison?! For stalking?” he asked, genuinely taken aback, and you just chuckled.

“No… for embezzlement. Turns out, she liked taking money more than pictures of you,” you quipped, laughing at his response.

“But she was so into me,” he scowled.

“Sucks to suck,” you responded as he scoffed, turning his attention back to his computer as he started to strategize different marketing tactics, some of which went over your head, especially when he started to talk about TikTok.

Perhaps Hera’s news had really exhausted you or perhaps it was the fact that marketing was never your forte, but you found yourself zoning out of the conversation, hoping Namjoon didn’t notice that you looked like a mess when you entered his office. He hadn’t acted like he noticed, but you were sure that your eyes were still a little red-rimmed, and that your face was puffy from crying in your car. You hadn’t realised how quiet you had gotten till his voice cut through your thoughts.

“Hey, you okay?” he asked softly, pausing his rant.

“Yeah. Sorry, just a little out of it today,” you replied with a smile, trying not to be affected by how concerned he seemed. Even after spending such a short amount of time with him, you had started wondering why he was your least favourite member, maybe you really did view your Shadow life through a very distorted, horny lens.

“You know what always makes me feel better? Chocolate!” he suggested with a grin, opening a drawer to pull out a giant bar of some Swiss chocolate and presenting it to you with a flourish. The gesture made you laugh harder than you anticipated, the random move making you wheeze. He joined you, unwrapping the chocolate to break off a piece for you, the gesture endearing you to no end.

“Ah! So this is why you never had abs,” you joked, giggling as he groaned.

“I had a kid to take care of! And… okay you’re under NDA so I can tell you,” he whispered, leaning in, and your curiosity peaked as he came closer. “Those teething biscuits are fucking delicious! Dude, those are like crack!”

The absurdity of the statement had you cackling once again, and you couldn’t help appreciating the effort he was putting into cheering you up, even when he didn’t know what was wrong. And perhaps it was the recent rehashing of your past, but you felt your heart warm, your grin matching his.

Unknown to you, Namjoon’s heart warmed too, just by hearing your laugh.

—-------

Somehow after the night in the studio, texting and hanging out with Namjoon became the norm. At least twice a week, you’d visit the little sanctuary he had created, spouting wild plans for twenty minutes before falling into a tangent that took over the conversation, trailing it to random topics that always distracted you till both of you were enjoying take out. For someone who had spent his whole life in the limelight, Namjoon was oddly normal.

Sure he had his moments like when he accidentally broke his extremely expensive watch because he was flailing animatedly while describing how he had once found a boy in his daughter’s room. But for the most part, he was down to earth, his stories mundane, nothing like the rockstar you had imagined.

However, what was exactly the same as the rockstar of your blog, was how attractive he was, especially in the suit he was wearing for today’s meeting. Sitting next to you on the couch, his glasses were low on his nose as he scoured through the research you had collected about building fan culture. The scowl on his face complimented him, and it reminded you of how he looked when he was busy slapping the bass when he performed, lip stuck between his teeth as he bobbed his head to the beat of the music playing through the speakers.

After almost three weeks of strategizing, despite you promising yourself this project wouldn’t take all your time, Namjoon had indeed hired a marketing firm, taking the insights the two of you found during your hangouts to them while you were at work. They had done an analysis and found that Shadows had indeed not died down, and that Moon was correct in her assumption that because of their songs going viral on social media, there was a steady growth of new fans, their old videos getting more and more comments. The news made you giddy, and it was getting difficult to hide how excited you were about the potential comeback.

“Wow… this is actually really great,” Namjoon praised you and you couldn’t help beaming at his words as he continued, “Are you sure you’re not a marketer? This is so so good!”

“Shut up. I just googled stuff,” you countered, getting a little flustered at his smile. He always seemed to be complimenting you during these meetings and you were sure your head was going to explode with how big it was getting.

“Oh speaking of google, did you know that it saves everything you search?” he asked, eyes widening in the shocking revelation he had seemingly made and you giggled at him.

“Yes, Grandpa. That’s how they make their money,” you teased, your early conversation getting steamrolled once again as you explained to him how the conglomerate actually used that data to make personalised ads.

“Wait… so like they can use my porn preferences to sell me stuff?” he exasperated, before realising what he had blurted out, a blush taking over his features. He really didn’t know how to control his tongue around you, somehow you brought out his no-filter self, something that only happened around those he was closest to. Maybe it was that you seemed to know him from his younger days, and that he had read all your unfiltered thoughts that you unapologetically owned up to, but he felt close to you despite only knowing you for merely weeks. It was weird. It was terrifying. It was exciting.

“Why are you googling porn?” you grimaced, cringing at just how bad he was at technology. Did spending so much time on his passion really make him this clueless?

“It has a video option!” he defended, ignoring how stupid he sounded even to his own ears, but then again what he said was even stupider. “What do you use?”

“Your music,” you deadpanned, immensely enjoying the way he turned into a tomato, sputtering in disbelief till you reassured him that you used a porn site like a normal human. However, Namjoon couldn’t help being stuck on the thought that maybe there was some truth to your words, and that alone had his heart beating and his lip twisting into a smirk.

“Oh yeah? What song?” he teased, an elbow meeting your shoulder as he snickered.

“Bicycle,” you said, smiling at the way he cringed in response.

“I wrote that song for my daughter, you heathen!” he exclaimed, gagging in response and all you could do was cackle, dissolving into breathless laughs as you leaned back on the couch. You missed the way he smiled at you, mirroring your position next to you, waiting for you to calm down.

“You’re a great songwriter,” you complimented once you had caught your breath, wiping the tears from your eyes. You regretted the sudden compliment that had escaped your lips, but the feeling was short lived because you got to witness the elusive shy Namjoon, smiling widely and shaking his bowed head as he brought his hands to between his legs, shoulders rising and a soft blush adorning his face. It made your heart flutter a little, making you avert your gaze.

That night the two of you barely got anything done, only deciding to create a presentation to convince the band. Namjoon insisted on having a special section chronicling Dark and Wild’s journey through your eyes. It was wholly unnecessary but he strong armed you with endless compliments and an offer to never get pineapple on the pizzas the two of you inevitably ended up ordering.

You never thought you would end up becoming friends with someone you used to follow around on tour, but somehow with all your meetings, it seemed that it was not only a possibility but a reality.

—-------

You found it odd when Namjoon changed up the routine one day, inviting you to his apartment instead of the studio, but you supposed that’s what friends did. So you had showed up with a bottle of wine and his favourite gummy bears, a decidedly small gesture but the way he squealed excitedly like a little kid at the candy had you giddy.

However, you learnt that somehow, this meeting wasn’t one for your flimsy professional reasons, but for just hanging out. You didn’t know why you were so surprised that he wanted to just enjoy your company, the two of you had developed a friendship but with the only close friendship you had with Hera still hanging on by a thread, you were a little skeptical.

“So how’ve you been?” Namjoon asked after he had set up a movie on the screen and popped some popcorn. His easy comfort made you worried, making you build up walls, refusing to share anything personal, and instead opting to discuss work and how his case was going.

Apparently, Generation Swine hated him and wanted to do everything but settle, desperate to keep the six songs he had written for them with full creative control over them. It was a preposterous ask, and you told him as such. You were determined to ensure that all his copyright would be given to him with as little payment from him as possible.

“They can keep them,” he said, speaking after a long silence. “I’ve made my peace with it. Just get them to take my name off.” You argued but Namjoon had made his decision. He knew that having his name on that album would just taint his reputation. He didn’t want to be associated with such scumbags who clearly respected no one, often not even themselves. And if he was being completely honest, he had just grown tired of the months long back and forth. If they wanted his music so bad, they could have it. He would be lying if he said writing songs came easy to him, but it just wasn’t worth it. Not when he knew they would water down his works to something unrecognisable. He just wanted to focus on making new stuff with his band mates, and moving on. Something he wished he could do with you by his side, not that he would ever admit it out loud.

The movie was some Japanese flick about a band working to achieve their dreams and everything that came with the industry, and when it ended you were left in charge of the remote. To break the odd tension that had risen after the silent resignation about Namjoon giving up his case, you decided to put on a documentary about Dark and Wild.

It worked, getting Namjoon distracted with nostalgia as he told you the background of all the scenes. Like how the footage of him ripping the wallpaper off the wall in a hotel was wrongly portrayed.In reality he had somehow managed to get his hand stuck in an already existing tear and couldn’t get it out. A few months ago you would have rolled your eyes and called him a liar, but after knowing him, you knew he was telling the truth. You had never met anyone with a bigger propensity for disaster than Namjoon. It was a wonder he was still alive with how clumsy he was. You told him so with a slap on his thigh and he just laughed along.

You had started the evening at different ends of his large couch, but somehow as he regaled you with more stories, you had moved closer, sitting side by side, sharing the popcorn on your lap and the gummies on his. It scared you how comfortable you felt with him, how he made you forget about everything, how he made you laugh so hard your stomach hurt. When he left to go pick up the food you had ordered from the restaurant next door, you realised that perhaps you wanted more of that comfort. You wanted to spend evenings just watching movies and making fun of him. You wanted to hear his stories, learn more about his life, and for the first time in a long while maybe you wanted to share your stories too.

Smiling at the thought, you scrolled through Youtube on the television, watching his old music videos, in awe of how much he had changed from the scrawny kid trying hard to seem tough to the dorky heartthrob he was now. You had always felt close to the band, related to them. That’s what made you a fan but somehow knowing the real him, made you feel nervous. There was no screen to hide behind, no image in your brain to project your fantasies on, because Namjoon was no longer just an abstract figment of your imagination, he was real.

“Oh… umm… hello,” a voice broke you out of your thoughts and you looked up to see a teenage girl standing in the living room, dressed much like you used to as a kid. Wearing black ripped jeans and a loose yellow flannel shirt, she seemed like a typical emo kid, her image solidified by the multiple piercings on her ears and chunky silver jewellery on her neck and wrists. She had dark hair that was tied in a half ponytail behind her head, and her dimples matched those on Namjoon’s face. You had seen her millions of times as a toddler, often dressed in fluffy pink dresses with giant yellow noise-cancelling earphones as she watched her father perform, and you felt oddly proud to see her all grown up.

“Hi! I’m a friend of your dad’s,” you said, moving the empty bowl from beside you invitingly, feeling a little awkward. Somehow you felt nervous as if you should’ve asked him if it was okay to talk to her before you did, every fibre of you wishing to make a good first impression.

“Oh, friend, you say?” she asked, narrowing her eyes with a grin that deepened her dimples. Dropping her bag at the end of the couch, she sat next to you, folding her hands in her lap confidently as she looked at the screen. You felt yourself flush with embarrassment as you followed her gaze to the obscenely large television where the music video was paused with the image of Hoseok mid thrust. You really should’ve paid more attention to which frame you stopped at.

Watching your horrified expression, she laughed, clapping her hands. “Don’t worry! That’s my favourite video too!”

Her laugh was a little weird, hiccuping between cackles, but it was extremely contagious, coaxing you to chuckle and breaking the ice. Most would think that the daughter of a renowned rock star would be spoiled, a little entitled, but Moon was anything but that, amicably finding topics to connect with you, cracking jokes at the expense of her uncles. Her humour reminded you of her father, goofy and light hearted. It was no wonder that soon the topic turned to him.

“Have you seen this video?” she asked excitedly, searching through her phone before casting her Youtube to the screen, playing a video of Namjoon from an old Dark and Wild vlog. The band had relegated him to cooking for them, the six of them sitting in chairs in front of him as he tried to cut vegetables. He had his lower lip between his teeth as he cut an onion in half and then proceeded to lay it on the round end, gingerly moving the knife and being unsuccessful almost every time while his friends laughed.

You had watched the video before. Of course, you had. It was a classic in the Shadow fandom, one that was memed again and again, but you couldn’t help wincing all the same, knowing full well that he wouldn’t hurt himself but worried all the same.

“Oh my god, dad! Flip the onion over!” Moon laughed at the screen before turning to you. “He hasn’t cooked for you, has he?”

“Oh god, no!” you replied automatically before biting your tongue, but Moon just chuckled along, fully aware of her father’s lack of culinary skills. Video Namjoon moved on to a carrot, struggling even more if that was possible and you couldn’t help joining along with Moon’s commentary.

“Watch your fingers,” you yelled at the screen just as he slightly nicked himself, hissing in pain, sheepishly pouting at the camera. When you had first watched the video, you were endeared by his antics, but now it felt as if your heart was bursting, making you almost coo at his younger self.

“I’m so glad I saved up my pocket money to buy him a food processor,” Moon commented, still giggling at the video. “Did you know he refused to buy me take out and then would accidentally cut himself like eight times a week?”

You could imagine Namjoon being stubborn as his daughter complained while he chopped vegetables in uneven slices, fingers covered in little bandaids. It wasn’t hard to notice how dedicated a father Namjoon was, but it warmed your heart to hear how much he cared for Moon from her directly.

You could tell by her tone that even though she masked it under humour and inconvenience, she truly admired her father for all the effort he put in, and somehow the picture in your head morphed till you were laughing at him alongside her, pushing him aside to take over the chopping as he leaned sheepishly by the counter complaining and insisting he had it handled.

In your imagination, he wrapped himself behind you, resting his chin on your shoulder, annoying you while you worked as Moon teased the two of you for being dorks. You startled at the image, not knowing why your brain had decided to drift that way, heart beating oddly, and eyes blinking to rid yourself of it.

As if on cue, Namjoon entered the room, precariously balancing boxes of pasta and dessert on two plates, a bottle of wine tucked under his elbow, and for the first time since you had met him, you felt starstruck. In awe of how tightly he was holding the cutlery in one hand but how lightly he was holding the plates, swaying from side to side to ensure none of the four unevenly stacked boxes tipped over. You felt frozen, a blush slowly creeping up your cheeks before leaping into action after a little “help!” escaped his lips.

Reaching for the bottle, you took it in your hands just as Moon grabbed the boxes, leaving Namjoon with just the plates and the cutlery. He still managed to drop a fork on the ground, cursing at himself before his daughter picked it up and went to replace it from the kitchen.

“Grab yourself a plate too, Moonie,” Namjoon offered, sitting next to you and oblivious to your sudden crush, casually plating a bit of everything for you. You realised he did that alot. Always making sure that you were served before him, that you were given the first piece of any snacks you both shared, and always asking if you were comfortable.

How did a passing comment from his daughter have such a profound impact on you? You felt like one of those girls who wrote fanfiction, your imagination going wild with scenarios when he had only just been kind. Perhaps you needed to follow Hera’s misguided advice and get laid after all.

“Nah, I have homework,” Moon replied, placing the fork on the table before smirking at the two of you. “Enjoy your date,” she snickered before prancing out of the room.

“It’s not a date!” Namjoon called out after her, bringing your overactive imagination to a screeching halt, forcing you to chuckle with him and dig into the food, missing how brightly his cheeks were shining at his daughter’s offhand comment.

You were still not speaking to Hera, but maybe you should strike a truce with her. If only so you could go with her to a club and no longer give yourself false allusions of being with a famous rockstar.

—-------

“Thanks for coming guys. I know you’re all busy but I just wanted to–”

“Oh my god. Stop giving a speech! Show us!” Seokjin interrupted Namjoon, bouncing on his seat on the couch, making Yoongi groan as he invaded his space. Although Namjoon’s studio was spacious, it was crammed for seven people, Hoseok and Taehyung sat squished next to Yoongi and Seokjin with Jimin perched on the armrest, wincing as Jungkook sat on his lap. Namjoon shook his head at his friend, appreciating the encouragement but still nervous.

He hadn’t showcased a song to the whole band for a long time and even though he knew that they were always supportive, he still felt a little uneasy. The new songs were different from the ones he used to write for Dark and Wild – while the former were debaucherous and often horny, his new stuff was something that held more of him, bared him with a vulnerability his younger self used to hide behind bravado. Not to mention that all he had was a guitar and his notebook, nothing like the demos he used to show them before, usually filled with samples of instruments manufactured from the mixer in his computer.

When Hoseok asked everyone to be quiet, Namjoon took a grounding breath, starting to pluck the strings slowly, building a melody that had haunted him for weeks. The acoustic version wasn’t how he heard it in his head, but he hoped it was enough to inspire his friends to imagine how easily they would fill in the gaps. He picked the strings individually, separating the chords so that they could speak to the emotions he was aiming for.

Soft strings echoed through the space, slow and resounding, and he cleared his throat before closing his eyes and singing. He always hated how he sounded but somehow in that moment he lost himself to the melancholy, letting it guide his vocals.

Maybe cherries are blossoming And winter is going to be over I miss you (I miss you) I miss you (I miss you) Wait a little bit, just a few more nights I’ll be there to see you (I'll go there to meet you) I’ll come for you (I'll come for you) Pass the end of winter's cold Until the spring day comes again Until the flowers bloom again Please stay, please stay there a little longer

The room was silent when he opened his eyes, six pairs of eyes staring at him. They had all leaned forward, Jungkook now sitting on the floor, legs crossed below him as his head rested on his hands. There were no words and Namjoon felt himself getting nervous as Yoongi spoke.

“Holy fuck…” he whispered, and Namjoon jumped straight into defense.

“I know my voice sounded terrible. You guys know i can’t sing, but I was just thinking, if we added some drums and then Seokjin you added some of the melody or maybe Jimin with a solo in the middle with Yoongi’s production… it could be… umm… something?” he rambled, scratching the back of his neck.

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Taehyung asked, his voice deep and serious, and Namjoon felt himself deflate a little, shoulders slumping before the next words left Taehyung’s mouth, “This is fucking incredible.”

It seemed that his words broke everyone out of their trance, praise flowing through the room as they excitedly left the mixing part of the studio to join Namjoon on the recording side, picking up their designated instruments.

“This is 4/4 as usual right?” Jungkook asked, taking a seat at the drums, rolling his shoulders and stretching his neck before twirling the sticks between his fingers.

“And what’s the key again?” Seokjin questioned, plugging his guitar into the amp, taking a determined stance as he smiled warmly at Namjoon and Namjoon couldn’t help mirroring his expression, his cheeks splitting with how wide his lips stretched.

“E-flat,” he replied, discarding the acoustic guitar to the side to pick up his bass, setting the dials to the sound he prepared, the pitch a higher than usual for a bass.

Soon the song transformed from an empty plea to a celebration of friendship, the instruments gelling together in a sound that went from mournful to inspiring. It somehow changed the message of the song from longing and waiting to reuniting. It was as if the melody was meant to be tweaked, his friends adding in their flair that changed how Namjoon had always heard the song in his head into one he could never fathom.

By the time Hoseok and Jimin finished singing, with Seokjin and Taehyung harmonising at the chorus, Namjoon couldn’t help choking up a little. It was as if he was transported back in time, back before he knew what it was like to lose his dream – to the time when he didn’t even know what loss was. He felt irrevocably happy and his eyes glistened as the last chord echoed into silence.

“Fuck I missed this,” Hoseok gleed into the microphone, jumping a little in excitement and the band joined in on the sentiment, their voice a cacophony of chaos as they all complimented each other and Namjoon for writing what they perceived as a hit. Soon, everyone was pulling out unfinished works, some scribbled in notebooks, others in their phones, one even on a napkin – Taehyung had a moment of inspiration in a Jazz club three months ago.

It was as if the previous years had been erased, their usual teamwork gelling into place like muscle memory, ideas flying and morphing into melodies that were lighthearted and poetry that struck a chord. Namjoon knew they were still wary about a comeback, but just seeing the joy on their faces as they brainstormed song after song, convinced him it wouldn’t be too hard to put their worries to rest.

Something told him this wouldn’t be the last time they jammed together.

—-------

It had been a few weeks since you had talked to Hera properly. Conversations that used to last hours were subdued to passing remarks about groceries and chores. She stayed out most of the time, giving you space. Sitting on your living room couch with ramen on a Saturday night, things were dull, your mind wandering on your relationship with her.

They say absence makes the heart grow stronger, but it didn’t seem to be the case for you. The more she stayed away, the more you had time to dwell on how your friendship had faded over time, how she had gone from a confidant to someone you tolerated. It made you feel a little guilty, but everytime that guilt would be overshadowed by how it seemed that you were always putting in more effort, from housing her during her financial crisis to not thinking twice about any favour she asked of you.

It wasn’t always bad, you remembered her getting you out of your introverted shell in law school, challenging you to strike a balance between coursework and hobbies. But in the past two years, you couldn’t recall a single time she had even mildly inconvenienced herself on your behalf. She was often passive-aggressive, seemingly exasperated at you. Perhaps it made sense if she was talking to Ryan during that time, his manipulative nature probably influenced her. But if she was so easily swayed was she truly your friend?

As if she was honed into you trying to let her go, she waltzed in through the front door, a huge grin on her face and smelling of alcohol. Squealing your name she startled you with a hug, her arms wrapping tight around you. It felt suffocating, unnerving.

“I miss you,” she sniffled, and usually her crying would be enough for you to forgive her, but you knew she was an emotional drunk. You sat in silence, letting her cry into your shoulder, not knowing how to react when the last words she said to you were accusations of how you had forced your ex to cheat. You didn’t know why you were being so harsh, but maybe it was because you had started to watch the Dark and Wild vlogs again, envying their friendships, comparing it to how the two of you interacted.

You patted her on the shoulder, waiting for her to sit up, and when she did you smiled, not knowing what else to do but tell her it was okay. As soon as the words left your mouth she was perking up, tears forgotten and drunken ramblings commencing. She talked to you about her night, about how Ryan was the perfect man, and you couldn’t get over the bitterness you felt. Was she trying to show off how much of a better boyfriend he was to her than you?

A ping from your phone saved you from the conversation, your face lighting up when you read Namjoon’s text.

So what do you say to a private concert? Wanna meet me at the studio in half an hour?

You couldn’t control the giddy smile as you responded, thanking him in your head for saving you from this awkward conversation. Hera didn’t like it when you excused yourself, complaining about how you didn’t like her anymore. She wasn’t wrong, but you were too excited to leave to fight her on it, apologising and rushing to your room to change, ignoring the pout she threw your way.

When you knocked on the studio door you were expecting only Namjoon to be there wanting to share some of the newer songs he had alluded to working on. However, when you entered you were met by the whole band, seven men sprawled on the couch, the coffee table cluttered with an array of snacks. They stood up at your arrival, greeting you excitedly in a mismatched unison, Jungkook’s voice the loudest among the crowd.

“Yummyjungkookie!” he exclaimed, the wink he tossed your way making you flush. You never imagined your teenage celebrity crush to ever greet you, let alone scream your embarrassing username at you. It made you wish that you had been a little more subtle when choosing it.

“Guys you are overwhelming her,” Jimin chided the men, moving away from the group to hold out his hand. “Hi Y/N. It’s nice to finally meet you!”

“Finally?” you questioned, grasping his hand in yours, a little dizzy at the sudden appearance of people you had only seen on stage or in magazines. You should’ve been used to it after spending time with Namjoon for so long but Jimin was right, it was overwhelming to see them all in one place once again.

“Yeah Joonie’s told us all about you,” Hoseok smirked, side-eyeing his friend who glared at him.

“He couldn’t shut up about you,” Seokjin added with a mischievous sing-song lilt to his voice, elbowing Namjoon who cleared his throat loudly before speaking.

“Okay!” he exclaimed loudly, clapping his hands together once. “Now that everyone is acquainted–”

“Oh I’m not acquainted,” Jungkook interrupted, moving towards you with a teasing smile, pushing his hair away from his face. It reminded you of his stage persona, his already sexy allure hammed up with fan service and it took every ounce of control you had to not swoon. The reaction had been engraved in you for years, after all. “So am I as yummy as you thought?” he asked, flexing his biceps.

Luckily you didn’t have to answer because as soon as the words left his mouth, Jimin scowled, smacking him atop his head. “You have a wife and kids!” he scolded.

“Aw hyung! I’m just trying to figure out if I’m rusty,” Jungkook whined, the earlier suavity melting instantly as he pouted, making you giggle at the sudden change. That was the Jungkook you were a fan of. Sure the sex appeal was appealing but you’d be lying if you said the real thing that gravitated you towards him was how dorky he was.

As all of them started arguing and teasing Jungkook for being a “rusty old man”, you started realising that they all were, in fact, dorks. It comforted you, helped you bring them off the pedestal you had placed them on and back to how they were just how you hoped they’d be – just a group of normal friends.

With everyone settled and introduced, and your pick of dinner ordered, Namjoon made you sit in the large comfy chair in front of the glass separating the recording studio and the mixing room. The band settled in the other room, picking up their instruments and making last minute tune ups.

“Okay. Someone told us a busy lawyer had been spending her precious free time to help us with our stupid hang ups, so we thought that we’d show our appreciation,” Hoseok announced, adjusting the mic stand. “For our favourite Shadow, after eight years, we are Dark and Wild!”

His introduction was immediately followed by Jungkook banging his sticks with each other, counting into the first song, and you were immediately transported to the time when you fought to be in the front row. They started with War of Hormones, Hoseok and Taehyung’s more mature voices and Seokjin’s new ad libs, changing the song into something fresher, something you thought you would never get to see live again. Before you knew it, you were standing from your chair, rocking along to the music as you grinned.

Namjoon watched you as he performed and he couldn’t help the giddiness he felt at seeing you so into something. You were often stoic, having a tight lid on your emotions. It made him want to work harder to get you to open up, often cracking jokes he knew were terrible to get you to laugh. If he knew he would get to see this expression on your face by just convincing the boys to put on a show for you, he would’ve begged them earlier.

He didn’t know when he had started seeing you as someone he wanted to pursue. The feeling was foreign. He never thought he would feel this way again, the bubbling anticipation for when he would see you next, the giddy joy when he saw your name light up his screen, the heart stuttering nervousness when you were near. He had assumed that those feelings had died in his youth, buried with Seo on that rainy day that tore his heart out.

He had tried to move on after her, had multiple one night stands, friends with benefits, even a girlfriend at some point. After a while he had figured that he would never feel that euphoria again, but somehow you had come in with your business formal skirts and secret thirsty blog and embedded yourself in his thoughts. And with it came the need to hold himself back, his once bulletproof confidence wavering to insecurities that he never felt before.

You never shared much of your personal life with him, never deviated from the strict line of friendship that had cemented itself between you, and Namjoon didn’t know how to break that. Every time he flirted, it seemed like a joke to you. Perhaps he was a joke too, a washed up musician with a grown child, who only met you because he was fighting with children and pathetically trying to convince people who had moved on to move backwards with him.

He didn’t realise that his gaze was unwavering as he stared at you through the glass, fingers moving over the strings automatically as Hoseok sang their old hits, but you noticed. Between your jumping, you saw how all of a sudden, his face had fallen, his jaw tightening as he zoned out like he did sometimes when you were hanging out. You didn’t know what he was thinking in those moments, but something told you it wasn’t pleasant.

His mood didn’t lift during the rest of the set, even when you tried to engage him with a smile and a wave. He returned your smile briefly before going back to the same forlorn expression that you couldn’t help being worried about.

“Thank you! You’ve been a great audience,” Yoongi said cheekily, winking at you after the last song before he was ushering everyone into the other room with you. He pulled up two stools, switching his pedals around and taking a seat while offering the other to Namjoon.

“For our last song, we wanted to show you a new one. One written by none other than Namjoon Kim,” Yoongi announced, plucking the strings as his foot toyed with the pedal, changing the tone to a fuzzier one that was overlaid with a delay, adding an ethereal ambience to the sound. Behind you the boys piled onto the couch, cheering loudly and you followed suit, clapping loudly as Namjoon adjusted the height of the mic and sat down.

He smiled at you sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck. “This isn’t one of the happy ones, sorry,” he said, clearing his throat as Yoongi looped a sound and started plucking the strings with a melancholic tune. “Also sorry my singing sucks,” he chuckled dryly.

“No, it doesn’t!” Seokjin argued loudly as everyone whooped.

“Go Joon!” Jungkook joined, and somehow the encouragement paired with the soft smile you sent his way made his nerves dissolve, letting him sing the song he had written years ago for the first time. It wasn’t just a surprise for you, it was for the rest of the band too. No one but Yoongi had heard it before. Initially, Yoongi had told him to showcase the song, but after trying to sidetrack him with other songs and getting the idea to invite you, Yoongi had had enough, instructing that he sing the song at the end for everyone.

It was silent while he sang, his friends behind the glass listening intently. He hadn’t sung this song properly in a long while. When he wrote it, he was in the deepest pit of his depression, often leaving Moon at his mother’s house to spend the night wasted writing rubbish on pages and then ripping them out when the words didn’t pass his harsh self-criticism.

Yoongi had found him on such a night, curled up on the floor, humming the melody as he banged his fist against the floor, fighting against his sore eyes. Of all the members, Yoongi wasn’t one he was closest to then, but it changed when instead of telling him it would be okay and coaxing him to bed, Yoongi had sternly told him to sit up and finish the song. He stayed with Namjoon the whole night and then for three nights after, subtly ensuring that he didn’t overdo his drinking, or turn to something stronger, as his self loathing crawled into the cathartic poetry dancing on top of Yoongi’s catchy rift.

Somehow writing that song had made him feel a little less sad, as if he had let go of the sorrow by transforming it into something productive. But singing the song he hadn’t even attempted to hear for so long, it was inevitable that he was transported back to that time where he was always in such a haze that the days seemed like an endless burden tied to his ankle as he sank, flailing to swim to the surface that kept moving more and more out of reach. It made him choke a little on his words.

One morning, I opened my eyes And wished I was dead I want someone to kill meIn this loud silence I live to understand the world But the world has never understood me, why No, that half is missing It's trying to hurt me I miss me, miss me baby I wish me, I wish me baby Wish I could choose me

You pursed your lips as his words reached you, feeling an undeniably need to soothe the pain that seemed to be dripping from his every pore. Namjoon had always been open, always made you laugh, unknowingly brightening your mood when work or problems with Hera refused to let you relax. He had talked about his daughter and wanting to get the band together. He had talked to you about his songwriting process, and he had told you his thoughts about the industry. But in that moment, you felt that Namjoon wasn’t always as open as he seemed to be, that beneath his usually cheerful demeanour, he seemed to be suffering, silently at that.

Why is it that I'm being so earnest Yet it's not working out Always Always (I lost my all ways)

He sang the last line abruptly, standing up as soon as he was done and excusing himself. You watched as he left the studio, yearning to run after him, but then again, all his best friends were in the room. Why would he need your comfort when he could have them?

“Go. He’s probably in the next room,” Yoongi said, walking back into the mixing room and placing a hand on your shoulder to break you out of your trance. When you looked at him with doubt, he just smiled, slightly nodding towards the door. Not wanting to overthink the reasons and too worried about Namjoon, you followed his advice, leaving and knocking on the next door.

“I’m fine, Yoons,” Namjoon called out, his voice eerily cheerful, making you suspicious. He opened the door, shock momentarily washing over him before he affixed a smile on his face. But you had learnt what his real smile looked like in the months you had gotten to know him. You didn’t miss how it didn’t reach his eyes, how his lighter right dimple never poked through his cheek, and how his lower lip quivered ever so slightly.

Before you knew what you were doing, you had your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him down into a hug. If he was surprised, he didn’t show it, instantaneously wrapping his arms around your waist, crushing you to him. Your scent overwhelmed him, an amalgam of lavender and honey that he had only ever gotten faint whiffs of now crowding his senses, coaxing him to lose the control he had tried so hard to keep over the last few minutes.

“Sorry,” he apologized, trying to clear the lump from his throat, loosening his grip, attempting to chuckle despite his heart beating erratic and his emotions threatening to overflow. “So embarrassing…”

“I’m not judging,” you whispered, holding on to him tightly. “You can cry if you want to. It’s okay.”

The moment the words left your lips, Namjoon couldn’t hold it in anymore, your permission somehow breaking his barriers and a tiny sob escaping him. He buried his face in your neck, his tears probably ruining your blouse. You could feel him shaking in your arms, and you stroked his scalp to comfort him, letting him cling onto you as he cried. You tried to control your own tears, but they followed anyways, silently tracking down your cheeks in empathetic trails. You didn’t know what to say to console him so you let him cry till he was straightening up, rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater.

He settled on the couch at the corner of the room, and you followed, looking around. The small room was some sort of a meeting area. Two large couches lined the walls in an L with a coffee table between them, the walls covered in a few paintings, and a single lamp in the corner lighting up the space. It was cosy.

“Sorry,” he laughed hollowly, and you reached out to hold his hand in an attempt to comfort him, hoping that he realised he had nothing to apologise for, nothing to explain. But he explained anyways, talking about how when he wrote the song he was in the deepest despair he had ever felt and somehow till today he had forgotten how he had felt, how broken he had been.

“We never showed it on the cameras, you know? How fucked up everything was,” he said, fingers gripping tightly onto yours, needing something to ground him as his memories flashed before his eyes.

Everything was always glamourized in front of the camera; their friendships, his relationship. All everyone knew was they were a little chaotic, a bunch of hyper dudes who would get drunk and joke around. They didn’t know that alcohol wasn’t the only vice they used to cope with the sudden plummet to fame, to cope with the stresses of releasing album after album of hits, of endless days of putting on personas that merged into a haze till they forgot who they really were.

It was okay when he took his first hit, it was meant to relax him, all the ones in the industry before him assured him that it wouldn’t turn into anything more. So the band would gather in their hotel rooms after some shows when the pressure felt like it would rip them to shreds and shoot up. It would let them slow down, float in a space where their brains weren’t capable of thinking, of overthinking everything.

That’s when Seo started joining him too, when they were just friends with benefits, before the birth control had failed, back when he was just a kid trying to emulate his heroes. He didn’t know how it would spiral, how his one off would become her everyday. He still blamed himself to this day for being too busy to notice the way her light faded, to notice how her mood swings were too drastic. He never saw her enough to put it together, not until he was getting a call from her mother blaming him angrily, screaming at him for ruining her life.

He broke down for the first time that night, apologising to Seo’s mother, and sobbing into his cellphone. That was also the last time he turned off his brain, before taking a week off to care for her. He sat in the hospital holding her hand while she slept with ventilators, just praying to a god he didn’t believe in for her to wake up.

When she finally opened her eyes, doctors warned her to go to rehab. “This will kill your baby if you’re not careful,” the stern physician warned her, and that was the first time Seo and Namjoon found out that she was pregnant, that amidst their fucked up rocky relationship they had somehow accidentally created something that was pure. They cried in each other’s arms that night under the fluorescence of the cold white room, promising to be better for their child. That was when he fell in love with her.

It was under the same fluorescence that he fell in love with her again, when she held his hand tight, her nails breaking his skin that still carried the crescent scars, as she gave birth to his daughter, the moon of his life. The nine months leading up to the day had Namjoon rediscovering Seo, had him realizing that he never noticed how kind she was, how she always put him first, shielded him from things she needed so as not to burden him. It made him realize how he had taken her devotion for granted for years and he promised himself to never do so again.

But promises are meant to be broken and it was only a few years later when he started falling back into the same patterns, using work as a cover to escape from his daughter’s shrill cries when she threw tantrums for no reason. He had promised to pick her up from school every Monday, Wednesday and Friday when he was in town. It was his responsibility as a parent but even when he was tired, he cherished those moments, listening to Moon ramble on about school and the friends she was making. He was proud of her, or so his memories liked to tell him, but he knew that inside he would always ignore her, too tired from endless practice to pay attention, placating the child with hums and nods.

It was a time when he was working on Dark and Wild’s last album, the label pressuring him to change every song he sent for approval, the guys relying on him for advice when his brain was sapped dry. He was in a haze, he didn’t know what time it was, what day and at the end of his rope, he had just stopped going home. Things with Seo weren’t bad, and they weren’t good, they just were, like a routine that had been embedded in him – one that he had no motivation to break. He would pick up Moon from school, drop her home and see Seo greeting him and he’d only wave before turning around and going back to his studio, biding his time before coming home late enough that Seo would be asleep. He’d sneak into bed and hold her till he fell asleep.

Those nights, he always knew she was awake but he didn’t have the energy to talk to her, so he would stay silent, and hope that his arm around her waist was enough. It still pained him to admit that somehow along the way, his own wife had become a stranger to him. Somehow the woman he had vowed to love in front of his friends and family as she held his daughter in her arms, had turned into something akin to a pillow he would hug at night. He would feel guilty those nights, tearing up as he held her but then his brain reminded him that the only reason he was working so hard was because of her and Moon, that it would be worth it, that once their contract expired next year he could take a break and rebuild the relationship he had. Little did he know that that would never happen. He still remembered the night he lost her, vivid in his mind like a haunting film on repeat.

He had come back from the studio like always, sneaking into his own home at 2 am. He checked on his daughter, smiling tiredly at how she had her entire body wrapped around the giant pink bunny Jungkook had given her, her long dark hair falling over her face. He tiptoed into the room, picking up the blanket from where she had kicked it onto the floor and covered her up, smiling ever wider when she nuzzled into the soft material further.

Quietly walking into his bedroom, he saw his wife buried under the covers and decided to take a shower, relishing the warm water on his sore muscles. He decided to use her body wash that night, a habit he had developed for when his days were long and he needed the comfort of her scent enveloping her. Perhaps he would wake her and kiss her this time, feeling too needy to care if he got scolded. He had argued with Yoongi that day and he needed her to relieve the stress.

Crawling under the covers he reached for her, cuddling her close till he was kissing her neck, the skin oddly cool below his lips. That was the first sign, one that made him panic as he sat up in bed and started shaking her. He could still remember how loud his heart was pounding in his ears, how his hands shook when he ran to turn on the lights, and saw how blue her lips looked. He was crying on the phone when he called the ambulance, and while he waited he held her hand, trying not to yell in despair as he begged her to wake up, ignoring the familiar paraphernalia on the bedside table.

He was still sobbing when the sirens rang out and rotating red lights invaded through the curtains of his bedroom. Still sobbing when he woke up Moon, gathered her in his arms and followed the ambulance to the hospital. Still sobbing when the doctor told him he was sorry. He didn’t know he had such a large reserve of tears, one that didn’t stop even when the cameras followed his family when he buried her, when he bowed in front of Seo’s mother, clasping onto her feet for forgiveness, when he had to explain to his daughter where mommy was.

And he sobbed again when he told you everything, baring his soul in a way he had never done before, not knowing what he was hoping to accomplish. But when you pulled him to you, wrapped your arms around his head and shushed him, he felt his chest fill with warmth. The memories that had assaulted him faded into the background, your small noises of comfort lulling him into content. He hadn’t meant to recount his life story to you in such a way, he only wanted to tell you why the song had such an effect on him, but something about you had him spilling out his truths without even thinking.

“You’re okay,” you assured him as he apologised, reaching out to the table to hand him the box of tissues that was placed there above the stack of random magazines. With the comfort of your words, he pressed the soft cotton to his eyes, steeling himself, his breaths becoming stable as you gently rubbed his back.

“Thank you,” he whispered, bringing a smile to your face as you shook your head. You didn’t know why he felt the need to thank you, all you had done was sit next to him and listened. You should’ve been the one to thank him for letting you in and for sharing his burden. You told him as such and he laughed, a light watery thing that made you join him. When he stood up, you wrapped him in a hug once again, hoping to heal him.

You had never thought that you would ever spend an evening at a private Dark and Wild concert, but more than that you had never imagined that Namjoon would somehow etch himself into your heart in such a short time.

Maybe that’s the thing about love, you never know when it will come and embrace you.

—-------

Birthdays were never your thing. You never knew why people were always so excited to celebrate another revolution around the sun. Your friends had always called you jaded, but you didn’t believe in celebrating the fact that you had just existed. A birthday wasn’t an accomplishment, everyone had a birthday from serial killers to misogynists – why should such a mundane fact be marked with a party. Yet despite your protests, your friends and family would always shower you with gifts and surprises. When you got older the parties toned down to gatherings at a bar or a restaurant, and slowly you became used to them, even expecting them.

Sitting in your room with the early evening sun pouring through your window and the latest Netflix show on your laptop, it didn’t feel like your birthday. Sure, you had received multiple messages reminding you of the fact, but with your family in another city and your friends scattered around the globe, this year it felt a bit empty, a little lonely. You didn’t know when you had started enjoying the celebrations, but the lack of one was jarring, even when you knew rationally that celebrating birthdays was stupid.

Sighing after yet another episode ended, you decided to pamper yourself, to celebrate not that you were a year older, but that despite missing your friends you were still mostly happy with your life. You gathered your favourite bath bomb and bubble bath from a little box under the bed and put on your fluffiest robe before venturing into the bathroom and lighting too many candles. The little speaker you had hooked on the door came to life with your favourite playlist as the tub filled with warm water, the bubbles increasing in volume and the colour of the water changing to a bright violet.

You decided to go all out, exfoliating and shaving your skin, and adding a clay mask to your skin. Dipping into the warm water felt luxurious, the heat relaxing your muscles. You hadn’t realised how long your days had gotten, how little time you had spent on self care, and you couldn’t help but enjoy the way your body sank into the tub, the water caressing you like a lover, the scents making your eyes droop in content.

You finished up your impromptu spa day with painting your nails a bright pink, a colour you rarely used, even going so far to spend extra time blow drying your hair into silky voluminous waves. It felt nice to forget about everything that had been bothering you lately, from Hera’s constant insistence to be friends to your sudden feelings for Namjoon. It was nice to disconnect.

However, you had barely dressed when you heard your roommate, her bed squeaking through the walls as she wailed your ex’s name, souring your pleasant mood. God, you needed a drink.

Not thinking twice, you swapped your comfiest sweats for a nice dress and grabbed your purse. Just because you didn’t have anyone to celebrate with didn’t mean that you couldn’t enjoy a birthday drink and indulge in some decadent cake. Walking to your favourite coffee shop, you decided to get a cake first, picking the extremely tall eight layered chocolate cake and settling on a seat.

Usually, you would pull up a book you were reading on your phone, or scroll through social media, mindlessly watching TikToks, but today you didn’t feel the need for distractions. Savouring the melting rich mousse on your tongue you looked around the little shop, making up stories about its patrons as your eyes trailed over them. There was an old couple sitting in the corner, sharing a quiche, and you imagined that they had just dropped off their grandchildren after spending a day with them. Then you saw a teenager, standing at the counter, biting his lip, torn on what to choose and you imagined that perhaps he was getting a drink for a crush, hoping to woo them with his choice. When he finally settled on a special strawberry milkshake with a swirl of whipped cream and two straws, you mirrored his smile as he sat next to a wide-eyed girl beaming at him.

Every new customer that entered, you would give them a back story, some more mundane than others. Like when a man with a scar over his eyebrow in a suit came to order an espresso you imagined that he was a stuntman, going into a night shoot. Or when a woman came with a bunch of kids, you imagined she was an au pair, paying her way through a social sciences degree. The stories weren’t crazy, but you liked imagining their lives to be simple, it was comforting.

You were in the middle of another daydream when your phone vibrated, a text lighting up your screen.

Hey. I think after last time, I owe you a drink. You free?

It was a simple message, but the moment you read Namjoon’s name your heart skipped a beat, stories forgotten as your daydream morphed from strangers and their lives to hanging out with Namjoon, his arm around you, his lips on yours. It didn’t help that he was somehow psychic, somehow knowing how much you hated drinking alone.

I’m actually on my way to 88… join me!

You smiled, anticipating hanging out with him for no reason other than his company. You knew it was far-fetched to think about anything happening between you, even if last week had seemed like a turning point in your relationship. He was a famous rockstar with a family, there was no way there was any room in his life for you. Even if you were friends now, once he would convince the guys of the comeback, the two of you would go to occasional hangouts and random text messages, the need for frequent brainstorming sessions over.

Finishing the last bit of cake on your plate, you grabbed your purse when your phone pinged again.

Oh if you’re with your friends, I don’t want to intrude… I was just going to offer this stupidly expensive bottle of champagne I found.

Chuckling at his oddly endearing response, you asked him if he was at home or the studio, and when he confirmed the latter, you hailed a cab and made your way to the familiar glass skyscraper that was beginning to feel a little too comfortable to go to. A knock on the wooden door later, you found yourself face to face with Namjoon, his smile making your own lips lift at the corners, your heart feeling as if it was home.

“Hi… umm… hey. Hello,” he greeted a little awkwardly, moving to the mini fridge under the mixing desk to pull out a large bottle of champagne, the gold label glittering in the low light of the room. You settled on the couch, noticing that he had already put out glasses and snacks, various packets of chips and candy littering the coffee table.

“So champagne, eh? What are we celebrating?” you asked, leaning back comfortably as he joined you, a concentrated frown on his face as he fiddled with the corkscrew, bottle between his legs, attempting to wrestle it open. It popped open with a fizzle, a little bit of the liquid spilling onto his sweats as he chuckled victoriously.

“That you don’t hate me,” he replied with a smile, pouring the drink into the flutes and handing one to you. He felt nervous, not knowing why he had said what he said. He knew you didn’t hate him, you didn’t strike him as the person who would scoff at vulnerability, but still, he felt a little guilty about unloading on you the other day. He didn’t want you to think of him as fragile or that you had to carry his emotional baggage with him.

“I don’t hate you,” you protested, clinking your glass against his before taking a sip, the smooth sweet liquid bubbling through you. It really was expensive champagne, the taste unlike any you had had before, crisp yet alluring. “You had a moment. We all have them.”

Your words made Namjoon relax, confirming that his view of you was correct. He felt light as if a weight had been lifted, making him more confident. Out of everyone he knew, somehow you had made it to the top of the list of people he felt most comfortable with. It scared him how easily you had crawled into that space, without him even realising, but Namjoon had been to too much therapy to discount you, to run away like he usually did.

He watched you as you rose, walking to the speakers you had made yourself familiar with, connecting your phone till a dance pop melody was filling the room. Sitting next to him, Namjoon couldn’t help but notice how you were closer this time, your body heat almost palpable on his knee closest to your thigh. You hummed along to the music as you finished your drink, refilling your glass and then his when he followed suit.

He sat sideways, an elbow at the back of the couch and his hand holding his head. The silence was comfortable, letting him just bask in your presence. You looked different than you usually did, your hair falling in nice waves over your shoulders instead of in a ponytail, your body covered in a dress that worshipped it, wrapping in all the right places that made Namjoon’s mouth run a little dry. He cleared his throat, starting a conversation to distract himself.

“You’re all dressed up,” he commented as casually as he could, wondering what you ditched to hang out with him in his lackluster studio. His head wanted him to feel guilty for pulling you away from something but his heart was giddy that you chose him instead. “Sorry if I interrupted something. I should’ve checked in.”

“You didn’t,” you assured him with a giggle. “I was just going for a drink by myself. You interrupted nothing.”

“What were you celebrating?” he recited your earlier question with a grin, leaning closer to you to refill his glass, the fruity scent of your moisturiser tickling his nostrils deliciously. He wanted to nuzzle into you, to deeply inhale the strawberries from your collarbones, but that would be creepy so he moved back to his earlier position, taking a heavy swig to calm himself, not that the alcohol that was starting to buzz through him helped much.

“My birthday, actually,” you replied offhandedly, laughing as his mouth fell open in surprise. You assured him that you didn’t think birthdays were a big deal, but it seemed that Namjoon didn’t care, scrambling to wish you before he was out the door. You chuckled at how adamant he was about doing something special, taking another sip, before he returned, much quicker than you thought he’d be. He held a plate in his hand, stacked with twinkies, a tiny candle poking out from the one on top.

“Here in the Kim house – well, studio – we go all out for birthdays!” he exclaimed, balancing the plate precariously on the arm of the couch before pulling a lighter from his pocket and setting the wick on fire.

“Yes, all out with twinkies,” you teased, placing your glass on the table and standing next to him.

“Well some people like to hide their birthdays. This is the best cake on short notice,” he joked before starting to sing happy birthday, swaying a little side to side, a wide grin on his face.

This morning when you woke up without any plans and knowing no surprises awaited you, you felt empty, but with Namjoon’s tenor wishing you repeatedly, your eyes glistened a little, the warmth in your chest overwhelming you.

Blowing out the candle, you wished that the warmth never went away, oddly ecstatic that somehow in thirty-three years of living you had been fortunate enough to always have at least one person who wanted to celebrate you despite your protests. Namjoon picked a twinkie from the plate and held it to your lips, and somehow the convenience store confection tasted sweeter than usual. Taking the piece from his hands, you returned the favour and he happily munched on the dessert before placing the plate on the coffee table.

The two of you settled on the couch, and between the sips of champagne, he told you about how much he cherished birthdays and never took them for granted. He always went all out on his own, renting large venues to treat his friends to absurd things like skiing trips and jumping castles.

He told you about how for Moon’s birthdays he always implemented the no “no” rule where he would do anything he asked, sharing stories about the time she had gotten him to take her to Disneyland when she was nine and puked from one too many churros, and how for her thirteenth the duo had embarked on a hike in Costa Rica finding hidden waterfalls and cataloguing bugs they found on the way.

“Birthdays with you sound magical,” you remarked, a little jealous that your dad never took you to a rainforest for your birthdays. You could just imagine the way Moon’s face probably lit up when going on her dream vacation.

“Birthdays are magical,” he replied, pouring the last of the alcohol into your two glasses, cheeks flushed from how tipsy he was. He handed you your glass, smiling at you wistfully. “It means you lived another year. It means that you’re here, alive, with me. And that’s worth celebrating.”

You felt the warmth from earlier invade you again, magnified by the bubbly wine in your veins and the way his hand was still holding the glass under yours, sending tingles up your arm. Before you could stop yourself, you leaned forward, your lips landing on his in a brief impulse that sparked till your toes. But it seemed that you weren’t the only one who wanted to do so. You had barely moved away when he was leaning forward, his free hand gently resting on your waist as his lips captured yours once again.

Never in a million years would you have imagined kissing Namjoon Kim on his couch after he forced you to celebrate your birthday, and yet with a flurried haste you were moving your joined hands to the table to deposit your glass, winding your arms around his neck. The glass fell on the table with a little tinkle, the champagne spilling over the surface, but Namjoon couldn’t care less, taking the opportunity to pull you closer, his tongue tasting your peachy lip gloss before delving in and enjoying the sweetness of the wine on your tongue, relishing the little moan you made, your tongue twisting with his.

It was hungry, the two of you wrestling with the feelings that were brewing for months, his hands roaming your sides, squeezing at the flesh, and your fingers tugging the hair at the nape of his neck, making him keen. It seemed that the moment would last forever, neither of you willing to part even to breathe. That is, until the song changed.

It's your birthday, so I know you want to ride out Even if we only go to my house Sip mo-eezy as we sit upon my couch Feels good, but I know you want to cry out

The moment the R&B vocals filled the room, you couldn’t help bursting out in a laugh, cackling at the oddly specific lyrics your phone had decided to throw at you. Namjoon didn’t notice at first, his lips continuing to move from your mouth to your jaw to your neck, nipping at the skin. However, as your laughs got more hysterical, he finally tuned into the song playing, cringing before he joined your cackles, breathless with his forehead against yours.

“So Google really does listen in,” he deadpanned, his humour adding to your joy as you clung on to him, half in his lap before standing up to grab your phone from the table. As funny as the song was, you really didn’t want a soundtrack describing what Namjoon would do to you. A little voice in your head told you to not get your hopes up, that no matter how much you liked him, it was still just a kiss.

However as soon as you turned around, Namjoon put your fears to rest. Unlike how hesitant he had seemed earlier, he was now sitting with a confidence you hadn’t seen before, legs spread and a smirk lighting his face as he stared at you. His eyes roamed your body as he bit his lip, making you feel a little overheated.

“So it’s your birthday,” he commented casually, head tilted slightly, eyes intensely boring into yours. “Wanna ride it out?”

You knew he was teasing you by quoting the silly song but your body didn’t know better, your stomach aching with lust at his deep baritone. The Namjoon you knew was a goofy, clumsy dad, but this Namjoon was the notorious bassist of your youth, cocky and fearless as he sat up straighter, hands landing on your waist to pull you between his legs.

“I’ve read the tags on your blogs, y’know?” he teased, his hands running up and down your waist, the few inches they travelled leaving fire on your skin. “I remember one,” he mused, pulling you down till you straddled him, a knee on either side of his hips. “‘God I’d pay all the money to sit on those dimples’ isn’t that what you said?”

Your mouth flew open at his words. You never thought your horny 3 am thoughts would ever be recited back to you by the subject himself and you had no words, every witty retort dying on your tongue to leave you with a lame, “You weren’t supposed to read that.”

“And you weren’t supposed to make me fall for you,” he replied, earlier bravado falling away in favour of sincerity. He cupped your jaw, thumb running softly over your cheekbone as he smiled at you. “Can I kiss you?”

As soon as you whispered your consent he brought your face to his, lips reuniting to a taste he realised he could never get enough of. It was addicting how your hands gingerly clasped onto his shoulders, how you shivered when he traced his tongue over yours, and how you moaned softly when he pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around you.

It didn’t take long for him to get needier, for his hands to grab onto your ass over your dress and mould to your flesh, to move your hips against his in a rhythm that made him heady. He wanted you so much that he felt breathless, running out of time even though he knew he wasn’t. His actions made you breathless too, like with every touch he was leading you to the edge of a cliff, hands shaking in anticipation of what was to come, but your brain refused to turn off, to forget whose hands were touching you till you were pushing him away, your forehead against his.

“I’m sorry… I’m a bit out of practice,” you apologised in a whisper, but he just grinned, dissolving your insecurities with his words.

“Me too,” he giggled, kissing your lips, once, twice, three times, his hands clasping onto yours, fingers lacing together. “We can practise together if you want… or we can wait. Whatever you like, birthday girl.”

Somehow his hands in yours and the cheeky smile on his face comforted you. You had been imagining the rockstar, the person you watched grow up through your screen and go wild on stage, but the more you looked at him, the more you saw who he really was.

His flushed cheeks, the little constellation of freckles on his face and the one hidden below his lip, the way his eyes searched yours so eagerly. He wasn’t a rockstar, he was just Namjoon, the one who made stupid jokes and stashed snacks in every drawer. The one who got bullied by his daughter and complained to you about it. The one who was brave enough to open up to you about his life. You knew him, he was real, and, like him, you were falling too.

With his hands still in yours, you leaned forward, kissing him again, confident and undeterred, and he followed suit, deepening the kiss before he was holding onto your waist and spinning around. You barely registered lying on your back before he was upon you, his weight cushioning you deliciously into the couch, the soft fabric of his sweatpants caressing your inner thighs.

“Hi,” he whispered, adoration dripping from his pupils as he smiled, fingers stroking your hair and you couldn’t help leaning forward to capture his lips once again, legs tightening around his waist. You could hear the blood rushing through you, an ambient backdrop to the sounds of his lips moving down to your neck as his teeth nipped at the skin of your collarbone. It had been so long since you had touched someone, been worshipped by someone like Namjoon was determined to do so that you couldn’t help canting your hips against his, relishing the way his pants left nothing to the imagination, his rapidly hardening cock providing the friction you sought.

With all the bravery you could muster, you detangled your hand from under his to the side of your dress pulling the zipper down with a loud purr Namjoon felt shooting through him. With the dress loosened, it gave him room to roam your skin further, his lips soothing the heated skin of your chest as he pulled the straps down to reveal your nipples. Namjoon had seen many bodies in his life; on the screen, in strip clubs, writhing under him; but something about yours made him pause to drink it up. He could see the way your lips fell open, swollen and red, the way your chest rose with your heavy breaths, nipples perked in anticipation, and the way your eyes looked up at him, wide and inviting. And right below your chest, sprawled on your right rib, were the words he wrote so long ago now.

And the swings that can't look at the sky on their own, and the kids all grown up, and me who’s a little late

His mouth fell open as he tried to wrap his head around how perfect you were. He felt a familiar rush through him. One he hadn’t felt in so long that he was almost afraid he had outgrown it – the pure endorphins of a crush fulfilled. With a muttered curse, he buried his face back in your neck, almost desperate to inhale your scent once more. His hands planted themselves on your chest, squeezing the flesh, making you moan his name in a desperation that only fuelled him further, lips moving to encase a nipple between them to add to your ecstasy.

You whimpered when his teeth came to play, the blunt edges hardening them further, making you grasp his hair and arch your back. Leaving goosebumps in their wake, his hands moved down your body, wrapping around each of your thighs, pushing your dress to your waist, denting the flesh. He had missed the feel of soft skin under him for so long, much more so since you started featuring in his life and his dreams, but touching you was better than any wet dream. The melody of your mewls intensified when he switched to your other breast, his fingers dipping to the apex of your thighs to indulge in the way your panties stuck to you, so wet all for him.

You felt your legs shake out of their own accord as Namjoon moved down your body, still relentlessly tracing you over your ruined panties. You had forgotten intimacy after Ryan, always talking yourself out of potential new relationships, one-night stands never something that satiated you, but somehow Namjoon had sneaked in and weakened your defences. When his lips sought out your clit over the thin lace, you couldn’t help but thank the heavens that he had appeared in your life, pleasure coursing through you. With every flick of his tongue, you felt yourself getting closer to coming undone, muscles tightened in suspense of his next actions.

Impatient and desperate, Namjoon couldn’t wait any longer, pushing aside the fabric that guarded you from him to dip his finger in, your walls welcoming him with a pulse as if emitting a secret in morse code just for him. With fervour, he wrapped his lips around your clit, another finger joining the first, pumping in time with your gasps. Your grip on his hair tightened and he went faster, eager to see you fall apart.

There didn’t seem to be enough oxygen in the room, enough syllables in any language to describe how he made you feel in that moment. It was as if you could feel every drop of blood inside you rush through your body, haphazard and chaotic, brewing like a storm deep in your core, getting wilder and wilder. Your senses were hyper focused, each touch making you quake, each moan that Namjoon made between your thighs vibrating through you. It bordered on too much, building until there was no way to escape.

Silence.

That’s what it sounded like. As if you were thrown underwater, your whimpers sounded like distant noises from a different universe, muffled and overwhelming. You didn’t know when you started holding your breath but when his tongue flicked under your clit, and his fingers hooked into that one spot, you finally remembered to breathe, your entire body relaxing to a point where you shook so violently that he had no choice but to look up at the euphoria painted on your features.

Eyes closed tight, all you saw were stars as his fingers rode you through your high, slowing to a pace you could relish. Soon, his lips were on yours, swallowing your soft moans, and your hands were around his shoulders holding him close.

“Okay?” he asked between kisses, heart skipping a beat at the way you beamed at him, hair matted to your sweaty forehead. Gathering your senses, you pushed him away, sitting up and pulling his shirt off, wanting his skin on yours.

He welcomed you with open arms, when you discarded your dress next to his shirt and climbed on his lap, once again uniting your lips. It was as if he couldn’t get enough, wanting his lips to be thoroughly chapped if it meant he could never stop kissing you.

“More,” you whispered, against his lips, hands roaming his strong chest and down to his abs, the muscle jumping under your fingertips.

“More?” he asked, dazed.

“More,” you replied once again, fingers trailing the little hairs under his belly button before slipping under the waistband into his underwear. His skin was soft, velvet under your touch, and he was so hard, tip messy as you played with him. He twitched in your hold, thighs flexing under you and his hands on your thighs gripping tighter, but you didn’t stop, stroking him slowly till he was keening, scrambling to push you off and get a condom.

“Condoms in the studio? How convenient,” you teased, enjoying the way Namjoon’s already flushed skin turned a deeper shade of red. However, his expression didn’t betray his flustered state as he confidently walked back to the couch, dropping his sweatpants and boxers on the way.

He stood like an adonis in front of you, sculpted and hard, his cock at eye level as he put on the condom, slowly teasing you before sitting next to you, arms sprawled on the cushions next to him.

Resisting him was futile, and your body moved on autopilot, underwear coming off without hesitance before you straddled him once again, resting your wet thighs against his. You traced his biceps, running your fingers up his shoulders to find him staring up at you. You lost yourself in his eyes, tracing the pattern of his irises, how the darkness melted into a warm chocolate.

Bringing his hands to your waist, he mirrored your movements, fingertips lightly grazing your sides. He knew you were joking, but something about your teasing made him feel guilty, made him want to dispel your worries, even if they didn’t exist. Capturing your lips, he wrapped his arms around you, resting his forehead against yours before speaking.

“Haven’t needed them for two years,” he murmured with a kiss, chuckling at the disbelief so easily painted on your face. “Told you I was out of practice.”

“You are definitely not out of practice.”

You could still feel the buzz in your body, the way he reduced you to nothing, just a mess blabbering his name. If this was him out of practice, you were almost afraid of knowing what he was like when he was more comfortable. You hoped you would find out. Cupping his face, you kissed him again before guiding his length into you, sinking down in one swoop, the stretch making you keen, thighs shivering.

“Fuck,” he moaned, his breath fanning your jaw as he tried to calm the urge to buck his hips into you. “You’re not either.”

You set a gentle pace, wanting to feel him for as long as possible, your breaths mingling together as you clung on to each other. But with one kiss, patience ran out. Tongues wrestling with each other, Namjoon lifted you up only to move you over his cock faster, jostling you into compliance as his hips thrust into you in time with his arms. Everytime he sunk into you, your nails dug into his shoulders, scratching the skin deliciously, making him go faster and faster.

It was too much.

It was not enough.

As he went faster and his pace threatened to chase your sanity away, you brought your fingers to your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves faster and faster, matching the way he grunted into your mouth, untethered, unhinged. It felt like an eternity, dangling so close to the edge that you could feel your walls closing in on him, his cock struggling to keep up with the earlier smooth movements.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he chanted, bringing your mouth back to his to lap at your lips. He thought he was so desperate because he missed sex, but nothing he had experienced came close to the way he felt lost in your warmth, unbelievably hard, forgetting the way his calves were cramping. He was so close, he could feel his eye twitching, his lip quivering with each of his moans. And then you came.

Your pussy clenched around him, pulsing, massaging him to an orgasm that made him float into the air, made him lose all sense of time, made him lose all feeling except for the way your arousal gushed into his lap, covering him, marking him as yours. And he wanted to be yours so bad. With a strangled whimper of your name, he held you still, rubbing his hands over your back, partly to sooth you and partly to ground himself, to remind him that you were real and not just one of his daydreams.

He lifted your head from where it was buried in his shoulder, lips chasing yours, tongue gently caressing, head heady with a satiated glow he felt emanating from his chest to the tips of his toes.

“Wow,” you breathed, bodies still joined together, hands playing with his hair, eyes drinking in the endeared look on his face. He didn’t reply, only smiled brightly before meeting your lips once again, getting you lost in his bliss.

You sat there kissing for a while before Namjoon’s phone rang, eliciting a groan from the man who refused to let you go. When the jingle persisted, he held you at the waist leaning forward to pick up his phone to see his daughter’s face lighting up the screen. Namjoon felt bad about sending his child to voicemail, but he had just gotten a taste of you. He didn’t want it to end, not yet.

“Sorry, Moon,” he whispered before pressing the red button to silence the call and kissing you again. You giggled on his lips at his antics, but he silenced you with his tongue, deepening the kiss with a moan that signalled the beginning of a second round. However, before you could lose yourself in him again, you heard a loud voice.

“Daaaaaaaaaaad! Daaaaaaaaaad!” Moon’s whine was clear through the static of the line, Namjoon’s eyes widening in shock before he stared at the phone. He was so sure he silenced the call! With an apologetic glance at you, he picked up his phone, clearing his throat before speaking, while you tried to control the laughter bubbling in your chest.

“Hi Moonie,” he answered, pouting at you exaggeratedly as you moved off his lap to grab your underwear. You had barely put it on before he was pulling you back towards him, an arm locked around your waist, chin propped on your shoulder as he continued the conversation. “Yes I know… I’ll get it. No, I won't forget! When have I ever forgotten anything?” he exclaimed, rolling his eyes.

The whole exchange would be adorable if it wasn’t for the way his hands moved from your waist to your chest, fingers playing with your nipple almost absent-mindedly. When he hung up, he turned towards you, kissing you once again.

“Wanna come over for pizza night?” he asked, pecking your cheek, enjoying the way your lips rose into a smirk before blooming into a grin. He knew it was too early, but he wanted to make you smile like that every day, as long as you’d let him. When the two of you dressed, he pulled you into a hug, letting his arms encompass you before whispering what he wanted the most, “Stay over after?”

Your heart fluttered in its space, growing wings and vying to get out, effervescent and giddy. Going up on your tiptoes, you captured his lips once more, softly, hugging him tighter.

“I’d like that very much.”

—-------

The week after you spent the night with Namjoon didn’t turn out to be the blissful week you thought it would be. With his case with Generation Swine coming to an end, there were a lot of meetings and paperwork. With their lawyers adamant about copyrights, you spent the majority of your time pouring over historical cases with your paralegal. Exhausting every resource, there only seemed to be one solution that you could come up with, a compromise that left you frustrated because you wanted to win.

Your communication with Namjoon was mainly relegated to succinct text messages that made you feel a little insecure about the evening you had spent with him – not to mention that his case made you feel a little guilty about building that kind of relationship with a client. However, your solace was to find a solution and put the situation to bed. Namjoon was the first man after Ryan who had made you feel safe enough to even think about another relationship and you didn’t want your constant excuse of work to dwindle the flame like so many others in the past.

Wine glass in hand, you sat on your living room couch, trying to write the final agreement and even though you knew that Namjoon had fully agreed to whatever you would come up with, you couldn’t help wanting his opinion one last time. A frustrated sigh left your lips as you reread the terms Generation Swine’s lawyers had put forward and with a large gulp of the wine, you dialled Namjoon.

“Hi,” he answered, his deep drawl making you remember how he had whispered the same word before he ruined you. Gulping, you tried to clear your head with another sip of your drink.

“Okay I have a question,” you said, scrolling through the document, ready to dive into the proposed agreement before he interrupted you.

“Me too. What are you wearing?” His tone was cheeky, an audible smile making you giggle, trying not to get sidetracked by him like you always did. There was a reason your usual twenty minute client meetings went on for hours.

“What am I wearing? Really?”

“Mhm. Missed you this week,” he replied with a raspy voice that made you squeeze your thighs together, wanting to abandon your earlier plan, but you were too close to the finish line, too close to genuinely give him your time without the added weight of dating a client.

“Namjoon Kim! I’m trying to work here!” you chastised, despite the growing need in the pit of your stomach.

“Yeah, so work with me!” he exclaimed, chuckling. “Is it that cute lace thing you were wearing that day?”

“Stop,” you whined, covering your flushed face even though you knew he couldn’t see you as he cackled through the phone. However, you did note to wear similar lingerie the next time you saw him, smiling to yourself.

“Sorry, sorry! What do you need darling?” Deciding to ignore the way your heart skipped a beat at the nickname, you put him on speaker, leaning forward to read the screen and dictating the points to him.

Essentially, the label and their lawyers had decided not to sue Namjoon if he paid the minimal contract breaking fee and gave them the rights to the songs he had already sent them demos for, four in total. You had countered that with the demand that the song may never be used by Generation Swine and that they may be used by other artists of the label if they gave Namjoon full credits, including in the title and changed none of the original lyrics.

Initially, you had been surprised that they had easily agreed. You had thought they would fight you more on it, but they were happy to agree and sign, and despite your reservations, you were obligated to provide this information to Namjoon.

“That sounds… great actually,” he said after a pause. “My name in the title too? That’s kinda crazy they agreed to it.”

“Perhaps your name carries more weight than you thought,” you commented, eyes still glued to the screen, lip between your teeth.

“I mean especially if we do a comeback,” he replied, a little smug and you couldn’t help but knock him down a notch, just to tease him.

“Last I heard, no one wants a comeback,” you grinned.

“Mark my words, Dark and Wild will be back. I’m Namjoon Kim after all, don’t you trust the words of the leader?” he volleyed back, his laugh carrying through the static making you mirror it.

“I’m sure Hoseok would love to hear that you're the leader,” you teased, only to get a scoff in return.

“Hobi knows I’m the leader,” he gloated.

“All hail President Kim,” you acquiesced through a giggle.

“That’s right,” he said, pleased and you could just imagine him puffing up his chest. “Now that that’s out of the way… What are you wearing?”

“I am not sexting you, Namjoon!” you protested, laughing at his one track mind and crossing your legs.

“Okay fine. What about… a date? When are you free?” he asked and you couldn’t help the way a blush grew on your cheeks, a giddiness you hadn’t experienced in too long bubbling inside you.

“As soon as you sign this agreement,” you answered, emailing him a copy of the document as you took him off speaker and leaned back on your couch. “So after the final meeting with the label tomorrow?”

“Well lucky for you, I can’t wait to see you,” he said, his sincerity easily flowing through the line and melting your heart in your chest.

—-----

Namjoon was livid. Pacing around his living room, he scrolled through his twitter to find himself trending. Thousands of people were talking about a Dark and Wild comeback, every single person referring to one video in particular. A blank screen with his voice echoing through: ”Mark my words, Dark and Wild will be back. I’m Namjoon Kim after all, don’t you trust the words of the leader?”

There was only one explanation for why this was suddenly going viral. There was only one person who had access to this. His heart plummeted to his stomach at the thought. He had trusted you. Trusted you with his secrets, trusted you with his authentic self. But you were just like everyone else, weren’t you? Just a clout chaser that went to the press at the first opportunity. He had to commend you. You played a long con, most of the women he had been involved with leaked pictures of him the moment he let them into his house, but you had been cunning, waiting till he had handed you his heart on a platter to shatter it mercilessly.

He could feel his hair stand at the thought of what else you might share of his life. Would you be like the first woman he had dated after Seo? The one who went on television with an exclusive interview talking about his dick. The interview his daughter’s classmates had bullied her with. He felt panicked as he called you. Would you go for an interview too? Expose how he had introduced his wife to a drug that took her life? Expose how much a failure he was and destroy the carefully curated narrative his PR team presented to the world?

His feet moved faster as if they were trying to keep up with his heart, each ring distracting him further, making him bump into the coffee table, spilling his morning coffee on the spotless surface. He watched the brown liquid cover the glass expanse before trickling onto the marble one drop at a time, mimicking the sweat that gathered on his forehead.

When you picked up, his body responded like usual, warming at the sleepy rasp, the one he remembered from a few weeks ago when you had woken up with your limbs wrapped around him, the sunlight brightening your smile. Stupid. He was so stupid!

“Why would you do this? I trusted you! I trusted you with my plans! My life! How the fuck could you do this to me?” he yelled, his frustration manifesting in a lump in his throat, choking his words, making them spill out strained and distorted. He didn’t let you speak, interrupting your feigned confusion. He didn’t have time to be nice. He had to figure out how to fix this. He needed to check on the guys. He needed to check on Moon. This was too much.

So he spoke even faster, let his bitter betrayal flavour his words with the worst expletives he could muster and ending the call with a simple threat, “Fuck you! Fuck you for doing this to me. I never wanna fucking see you again. I hope that degree is good enough because I’m gonna sue you out of every fucking penny you have. Mark my words, Y/N.”

He was panting by the time he hung up, lungs aching as they expanded, tears flowing as he realised just how much it hurt. His grip on his phone tightened and before he knew it he was throwing it across the room, shattering it against the wall with a frustrated scream.

“Dad?”

His daughter’s surprised voice pulled him out of his head, freezing him where he was still pacing, the adrenaline from earlier vanishing into exhaustion. He sighed, rubbing his hands over his face and mustering a smile before turning around, trying immensely hard to put up a brave front. But he had forgotten how precocious his daughter was, how she saw through him as she held his hand and settled him on the couch.

She brought him a bottle of water, waiting for him to drink before sitting next to him, posture impeccable and jaw tightened in a scowl. He saw himself in her at that moment, the expression one he would give his band members when they strayed out of line. Now he knew why they listened, even on a sixteen year old the look was intimidating.

“Dad, was that you talking to Y/N?” she asked, arms crossed across her chest and for a moment Namjoon felt sheepish, guilty that she had heard the ugly words he had spoken. Yet that guilt did not extend to you. He knew that if he didn’t threaten you, the things you might say to the press would have a lasting impression on his daughter.

She knew the circumstances of her mother’s death, but she never knew how complicit he had been. She always looked up to him as a role model, and he didn’t think his heart could ever take it if that illusion shattered. But he got a glimpse of that when he quietly affirmed her suspicion and watched her face fall, the scowl replaced with a sadness he wished he could erase.

“I’m really disappointed in you, dad,” she sighed, shaking her head and her words felt like a sword piercing through Namjoon’s chest. He had worked so hard to make sure she never felt that way. He knew she deserved a much better father than him, and he had tried so hard to ensure that; he had worked jobs he hated, he had read hundreds of parenting books, and he had gone to therapy. Yet the words seemed to come so easily to her, permeating the air with a tension that stiffened Namjoon’s shoulders and put him on the defensive.

“Have you seen the internet? She betrayed us, Moonie,” he retorted, voice a little colder than he wanted, but he couldn’t help it, fire stoked once again.

“Did she tell you it was her?” she replied with an eye roll, so naive.

“There could have been no one else. It was a private conversation between us.”

“But did you hear her out? All I could hear was you yelling,” she protested and Namjoon couldn’t help but shake his head. Not only had you fucked with his head, but you had also somehow put his daughter under your spell as well, especially when she continued, “You were mean. You threatened her!”

“It was to protect us. We can’t have random people think they can get away with stuff like this,” he tried to explain, watching his daughter get agitated and looking like a kid once again with her pigtails bouncing. She kept telling him he was wrong despite his efforts to remain calm and expound on his stance.

“You like her! She’s a lawyer. Why would she do this?” she argued and Namjoon couldn’t stop himself from laughing at how innocent his daughter was. He hoped she remained this optimistic forever, that she didn’t have to go through the duplicity he had experienced in his life. The more he tried to explain to her that that’s what people were like sometimes, that it was hard to trust anyone other than family, the more agitated he got at her denial.

Any other time, he would be proud of her for sticking to her stance and arguing through her thoughts, but Namjoon was exhausted. He didn’t have the heart to tell her that the reason he had found out this audio was leaked was not because of the news, but because his PR firm had called him about it. They had traced the origin to a dummy Twitter account which had posted and tagged it multiple times. They had also traced the IP address to where he knew your apartment was. There was no room for doubt when everything was crystal clear.

And so for the first time, he snapped at his daughter.

“Enough! I don’t want to hear it. I’m the parent, not you. Go to your room.”

He always hated parents that dangled their authority over their children. His parents were like that and although he was past it now, he remembered resenting them for it when he was younger. He resented their inability to talk things through, to listen to his point of view. It had taken him years to get over that feeling, but he never felt true empathy for them until this moment, his heart breaking as he watched his daughter angrily stomp towards her room.

Taking a deep breath, he ran his hands over his face in defeat. With the anger fading, came the heartbreak. He really had thought you were special, someone who somehow understood him. A chance encounter that led to him shedding the walls he had reinforced in the past ten years. He was upset about the betrayal, but his fear was more pressing. He wasn’t sure he’d be able to trust anyone again and that thought chilled him to the core. Years of therapy had taught him out of his usual defence mechanisms, to replace the toxicity with healthy coping, yet his chest felt tight as he felt the intense need to wallow.

An arm over his eyes, he tried not to notice how his skin turned moist and instead focused on what he did when he felt this way. Standing up, he grabbed his keys and headed to his studio.

—-------

You were still in bed, hand clutching your phone as Namjoon’s words rang in your head. Scrolling through the news you could see why he was seething. If you were him, you would’ve jumped to the same conclusion, but you knew it wasn’t you that leaked the video. Being hacked was out of the question, you had obscenely long passwords and two factor authentication on everything – working with high powered clients tended to seep into paranoia. Additionally, it wasn’t like you were recording the conversation in the first place. It was as if someone was in the room with you, taking notes of your conversation. Namjoon had even mentioned something about being sure it came from your address.

And then it dawned on you.

Phone clutched in your hand, you headed to your spare room, knocking furiously till a yawning Hera appeared. Her long hair stuck out at weird angles, pajamas frumpled and the impression of a pillow still on her face. She seemed like she was sleeping so soundly and it only made the anger licking at your veins ignite further.

Holding up your phone, you played the video, seething. “Did you leak this?”

“Ugh, this is what you woke me up for? Yeah. Now, let me go to bed,” she yawned, moving to close the door before you stopped her.

You expected her to deny it, to make an excuse but her blatant admittance to invading your privacy had you spiralling. You had put up with a lot with her. You had excused her shitty decisions, you had excused her inability to ever pay for anything, but this was too much.

“This was a private conversation, Hera,” you gritted, getting angrier as she just shrugged and rolled her eyes.

“Celebrities aren’t private,” she replied nonchalantly. “Think of it like I was a paparazzi.”

“But that’s the thing. You’re not. This was a private conversation and you recorded it. Do you not understand how fucked up that is?”

“Oh my god! Give me a break! I didn’t even release the juicy stuff. I could’ve told the world you were dating that guy but I didn’t because I’m your friend.”

You couldn’t help but sputter at her rationalisation. It was absurd how she thought it was okay to do this. You knew her morals weren’t always aligned with yours, but you never realised how far they had truly skewed. How had you missed this in all these years? How had you not realised how one sided this relationship had become? Why did you keep putting up with her when she never showed you an ounce of respect?

“Get out,” you said, trying to hold back your vexation.

“What? You’re kicking me out now?” she laughed as if it was the most unbelievable thing in the world.

“I said get out. I want you out of here by tonight.”

“Come on! I’m sorry Y/N. Is that what you want to hear?” she pouted, turning her voice higher to be cuter. Perhaps it would have worked in the past. Maybe it had, for her to pull it out of her arsenal, but she had gone too far. Much too far. When you repeated your words once again, she seemed angry, spitting at you how she knew you were trying to get Ryan back and she needed to always record you to make sure she could trust you. It was absurd and you didn’t want to expend any more energy on her. You were done.

You left her screaming at you, grabbing your keys and sending her one last warning before slamming the door and going to your office.

“You take your stuff and you get out. If I find anything missing or if you’re still here when I get back, I’m calling the police.”

—-------

Despite the odd look security gave your outfit as you walked into your building on a Sunday morning, you were too wired up to care. It wasn’t unusual for you to be one track minded when it came to something. You often got borderline obsessed, and today you had only one thing on your mind – get that video off the internet. Settling in your office, you scanned your shelves for books on defamation and invasion of privacy. It would make a flimsy case, Namjoon said his name on the recording after all, but if you could find a precedent, you could perhaps develop a useful argument.

When your shelves did not give you the answers you were looking for, you made your way across the empty floor to the in-house library, picking up anything of use. Before long, you were sitting at your desk, piles of books and the internet calming your nerves. However, the more you read, the more the pit in your stomach grew. It felt fruitless, looking for a needle in a vast ocean.

You needed this win to clear your name, but more importantly, you needed it to help Namjoon. It had been so long since anyone made you feel safe, made you feel as if you were worthy of their vulnerability and your heart ached as you imagined how he must have felt seeing your private conversation in the headlines. Head pounding, you tugged at your hair in frustration, reading the same line over and over till the words held no meaning at all.

You opened your drawer, rummaging for some painkillers till your hand closed around the bottle. Pulling it out, your eyes landed on the chocolate bars Namjoon had insisted on you stashing in your office. “In case you ever have a bad day!” he had exclaimed when he handed you a bunch of his favourites. The memory seemed bitter now, but you still picked up a bar, ripping it open and letting the sweet taste distract you with its endorphins.

Maybe it was pathetic crying in your rapidly darkening office with chocolate smeared on your face but everything felt overwhelming all of a sudden. If you had only lost Namjoon perhaps you would have been able to hold it together. You had dealt with breakups, not sure if the short lived stint with the celebrity even counted as a breakup. But it was the loss of Hera that had you sniffling, curled up on your chair. She wasn’t the greatest of friends but she was your best friend, had been for years and you would do anything to protect her. It pained you that she didn’t even think of extending you the same courtesy, that for her you had somehow gone from a confidant to an untrustworthy roommate.

Despite your efforts, she seemed to always look for the worst in you. As you ruminated over the decade-long friendship, more instances became obvious. It was as if every toxic red flag had been ignored by you. Were you really that desperate for kinship that you let every time she put you down slide by?

They weren’t big things, you thought. A slight here, a ruthless comment there before she was telling you to chill out and hugging you. You always thought that her comments were innocent, that they were just a part of her love language. She liked to joke around, poke fun at your outfits, your hobbies, but the more you thought about it, the harder it was for you to remember moments when she had been kind, when she had stood up for you.

Perhaps it was your fault for forgiving her time and time again, for putting up with her behaviour. Maybe this whole leak debacle wouldn’t have happened in the first place if you had called her out on her bullshit earlier. Maybe you should’ve reconsidered your friendship when she never offered to pay rent, or when she started dating your cheating, hateful ex. Was she really at fault if you had never set the boundaries in the first place?

Sighing, you set your head on the table. Hoping to will away the headache, you closed your eyes.

It seemed merely minutes had passed when your phone chimed, startling you awake but the time on the screen alarmed you. It was just past 1am. Somehow you had spent the majority of your day sleeping at your desk. Your back ached from the angle, but the pain was forgotten when your phone chimed once again. Wiping your eyes you took a closer look at your screen.

Namjoon - Missed calls (5)

Namjoon: Is Moon with you? Namjoon: Please call me back Namjoon: Please Namjoon: I’m really sorry but please I can’t find Moon

Panic surged through you at his words, your fingers flying on the screen as you called him back. The phone rang twice before Namjoon’s ragged voice was bombarding you with questions, “Where are you? Is Moon with you? Has she contacted you?”

“No, but we can find her. Namjoon, listen, calm down. We’ll find her.” You tried to comfort him but it seemed that he was spiralling, muttering about being a bad father. It was a drastic contrast to his earlier fire, alarm dousing his tone in helplessness. He went on to tell you that her phone was at home, that he hadn’t seen her for hours, and the police had told him they’d make the case a priority.

“What if she was kidnapped? What if people think that I’m famous again and they can put her for ransom?” he rambled, clearly distressed. Trying to distract him from his dark thoughts, you asked him about all the places she could be and when he informed you that everyone was looking at her usual spots, you decided to search up other spots in the city where she could be, looking up parks and concert venues. With assurance that you will look for her, you hung up the phone, ran to your car and started your search of the city.

1 am on a Monday doesn’t lead to many crowds so it was easy to go through the top spots that you had listed. You even rented a bike and biked up and down the Han river park but other than a few drunks, you found no trace of her. Back in your car, you tried to run through every conversation with her, there had been so few, and she hadn’t mentioned anything. Giving up, you hoped that they had found her and forgotten to tell you. You were an insignificant part of their lives anyway.

Calling Namjoon didn’t work, his phone just rang through each time. You knew you should just go home and let him deal with it, he had his best friends and the police on his side, he didn’t need you, someone he didn’t even trust anymore, to tag along. But the unrest in your chest wouldn’t let you turn your car around. Instead, you drove to his apartment as if on instinct. If he wanted you out, he would tell you, he clearly had no problem making his opinions known when he wanted to.

When you knocked on his door, you were met by a Namjoon you hadn’t seen before. Eyes red, hair a mess, he let you in before starting his pacing again, rambling about how he was a terrible father, interrupting you angrily when you tried to tell him otherwise.

“I told her to go to her room! Do you know how fucked up that is?” he yelled, confusing you further.

“Namjoon… a lot of kids get sent to their room. That’s not a bad thing,” you cautioned, putting a hand on his shoulder.

“Not Moon. She was… so disappointed in me. I’m not supposed to be like those other parents! What if… what if that’s the last thing I say to her?” His lip quivered as he spoke, facade crumbling as he fell to his knees, taking you with him. For all the vitriol he had spewed that morning, it seemed that Namjoon just wanted you close, clinging on to you in his panic. You couldn’t help but hold him close, even if it was temporary, wishing to provide him with comfort as long as he allowed.

It was in that position that Moon found the two of you when she returned, immediately running to her father.

“Dad? What’s wrong?” she asked, kneeling next to you as Namjoon stared at her before pulling her into a bone-crushing bone crushing hug.

“Where were you? I was so worried!” he scolded, unable to stop the huge relieved grin on his face. He patted her hair as if to feel if she was real and you couldn’t help but be endeared by the pure display as they bickered, It was heartwarming to see Moon trying to explain to her worried father that she had merely forgotten her phone at home and gone to a concert with friends.

“You could’ve messaged from someone’s phone or left a note!” Namjoon argued, still hugging her.

“I left a note on the fridge!” she replied as Namjoon sheepishly made excuses as to how he had been too worried to even check the kitchen fridge.

The two were in their own bubble and it made you a little awkward to be watching such an intimate family moment when before the disaster it was made clear that you were no longer welcomed in Namjoon’s life. With a heavy heart, you stood up taking your leave despite Moon’s insistence for you to stay the rest of the night.

As you were leaving, Jungkook and Yoongi came by, both equally relieved to find their niece safe and sound. When the elevator doors closed in front of you, you decided that it was better to have gotten a glimpse into the lives of people you admired than to have never had that time with them at all. It still hurt to have Namjoon distrust you so easily, even if rationally it made sense as to why he did. You were only a fleeting moment and that was okay.

You were grateful for the time you spent with him.

—-------

It had been a week since he berated and then asked you for a favour, and Namjoon didn’t think he could ever feel so empty again. He stared at the glass of whiskey in front of him, trying to figure out if it was even a good idea to call you. Would you hear him out, let him apologise or would you just brush him off?

You hadn’t apologised for the leak and even if he did overreact in the moment, he knew that it was unfair of you to do that. But after how quick you had jumped in to help him search for Moon and how none of his other secrets came into the limelight, his gut told him that maybe he had been wrong. Maybe you had gotten hacked, or he had gotten hacked. Maybe there was an explanation that didn’t lead to him losing you from his life. But then again, did he even deserve to invite you back in when he had so ruthlessly shoved you out. Damn, he even threatened to sue you!

“Joon hyung! I’m trying to tell you all something!” Jungkook whined, the addition of the term of respect alluding to Namjoon that he had been calling his name for a while. The guys had dropped the honorifics once they had disbanded, an effort to see each other on equal footing as friends, but the habit was especially hard to drop for the youngest. Namjoon chuckled at his friend with a nod as the rest of the band grumped at Jungkook to continue.

“So… the leak was actually good huh?” he commented, large eyes scanning the faces of the six men around him eagerly. For someone who was dead set against a comeback, it seemed that the sudden downpour of support from old and new fans alike had swayed Jungkook.

Jungkook was barely even a teenager when Dark and Wild launched, so it was no surprise that Shadows held a very big spot in his heart, multiple tattoos alluding to the fact. Namjoon remembered when a doe-eyed Jungkook had excitedly shown him his first fan letter, one that was still framed in his living room.

It was endearing to see him this excited about returning, but for all his plans, Namjoon felt guilty that the thing that convinced the members to pursue a comeback was not his and your hard work but a mistake. He felt uneasy, a clawing feeling in his chest making him feel as if he had forgotten something behind.

He knew it was you.

Somehow in the months of planning, you had become intertwined with his vision of a comeback. When he imagined picking songs for the album, he thought of your input. He imagined your name in the end notes of the cover. He imagined you in the studio during practice and in the wings at the first concert.

It wasn’t a comeback if you weren’t there to enjoy it with him. Even if you never wanted to talk to him again, he wanted to experience everything because you had so easily given him access to your time and your intelligence. Perhaps he should’ve never crossed that line. Perhaps he should’ve remained professional and not let his lonely heart fiddle with his brain.

“So wait… we all want to actually do this?” Jimin asked, the men continuing their discussion, oblivious to how Namjoon had once again reverted into his head. Everyone nodded along, except Seokjin who sat with a frown on his face.

“I don’t know… Go back to the limelight? Do you think we’re ready for that again?” he asked tentatively, his lower lip between his teeth. “It was a lot of pressure on all of us, all of our partners too.”

“We’re older now. We know our limits better now. We know ourselves better now,” Hoseok consoled quietly, slurring a little and sipping his drink, his face already flaring red from the alcohol. Seokjin laughed at the juxtaposition of Hoseok’s serious tone and sleepy eyes.

“Okay. If you can beat me at rock, paper, scissors, I’m in,” he joked holding up a fist as Hoseok squared up, much to the annoyance of the rest of the band.

“Why do we always have to do rock, paper, scissors for everything?” Taehyung bemoaned, leaning back on the couch staring at the ceiling with a huff as Jungkook coached Hoseok through whispers.

“Because democracy,” Seokjin grinned, chanting 'rock, paper, scissors’ before leaving his fist as is to signal rock just a few seconds after Hoseok showed his hand, paper.

“I won!” Hoseok gleed excitedly before stopping short and staring at his friends. “I won… We’re doing a comeback?”

“We’re doing a comeback,” Seokjin laughed, trying not to hint that he had agreed before the game even started, even when Yoongi smiled knowingly at him. “Good job, Joonie.”

Namjoon couldn’t help getting a little flustered at the sudden praise from his bandmate, his heart beating faster. He had waited so long for this, that it seemed surreal that it was happening. Standing up, he raised his glass to the middle, proposing a toast.

“Dark and Wild,” he cheered, the men echoing him as seven glasses clinked together.

Fuck, they were really doing a comeback, weren’t they?

—-------

When you had left Namjoon’s apartment two weeks ago, you were sure that you would never return. There was no reason to climb the gilded elevator to the cosy home, especially with the radio silence that had continued between the two of you. You were sure he still thought you were responsible for the leak and you should’ve been mad that he never tried to hear you out, but your empathy wouldn’t let you. It made sense with how guarded he was to assume the worst, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t hope that he would call you and make things right.

Waiting for the elevator, it wasn’t Namjoon that invited you back, but Moon. She had messaged you requesting your presence at her birthday and after Namjoon had explained how he tried to make each of her birthdays magical, there was no way you could refuse. You knew it would be awkward, stilted as you tried to go through a group of Namjoon’s friends and family, but you would hate it if you were the one who took away the magic of birthdays from a girl that always believed in them.

You watched the buttons light up as the elevator ascended, a set of drumsticks gift wrapped in your hands. Your nerves flared the closer you got to the penthouse and you laughed at how ridiculous you were being. Namjoon wasn’t even an ex, he was just a beginning that never led anywhere. If anything you should’ve been grateful that it never led to more. It would have broken you if it had. But you were strong, ready to impart your birthday greeting with a brave face and leave after ten minutes.

It was only ten minutes. You could do it.

However, when the doors opened to the apartment, you didn’t see the crowd you had been anticipating. There were no balloons in the living room, no music, no lights. Only Namjoon, seated at a table in the middle of the living room.

The couches and coffee table that usually occupied the space were absent. Instead there was a table with a white cloth draped over it and two chairs. A large dish of pasta sat on the surface, along with a basket of bread, place settings for two, and a bottle of wine chilling in a bucket. Candles on the table gave the room a soft glow, your heart stuttering as Namjoon walked over, biting his lip sheepishly and fiddling with his fingers.

“Hi,” he said, flushing as you looked up at him. Before you could answer, he was apologising. “I’m really, really sorry for being an idiot. I should have never blown up at you like that. That was fucked up and I’m really sorry.”

“Where’s Moon?” you asked, ignoring his apology, just to see him squirm a little more.

“Um… her birthday wish was for us to make up… So she’s at a sleepover with her friends.”

“Well… I got her a present,” you stated awkwardly.

“Oh! I can take it. Thank you,” Namjoon said, taking the present and placing it on the table before clearing his throat. “I’m serious. I’m really sorry, Y/N. I don’t care if you leaked the clip, I’m sure you had a plan and I was an idiot for not lis–.”

“I didn’t leak anything,” you cut him off quietly, watching how his eyes widened in response, a soft “what” escaping his lips. “I didn’t leak it. My roommate recorded us without me knowing. Well, ex roommate.”

“Fuck,” Namjoon breathed before laughing bitterly in disbelief. “I really am an asshole. Wow.”

“I get why you did that though. You had to protect yourself and Moon,” you defended his actions, but he didn’t let you, apologising once more before offering you a seat. When the two of you were settled, he told you about his past, about how other partners had scarred him, how he had somehow been hardwired into accepting the worst in people, and for the first time, you let him in too, sharing your fight with Hera.

“I’m a lawyer, Namjoon. I signed an NDA,” you replied, a finger tracing the wine glass in front of you. Namjoon’s sudden laugh startled you, your eyes meeting his as you watched him cover his mouth.

“Sorry but that’s what Moon said too,” he replied, the tension in the air melting at the comment and a smile lifting your lips.

“Smart daughter you got there,” you complimented, raising your glass. He clinked his own against it before taking a sip.

“That I do,” he easily agreed.

“Tell her that her birthday wish came true.”

“Wait really?” he asked with a grin he couldn’t control. “We made up?”

“If you still want to be friends, I’m okay with that. I’d like to be your friend, Namjoon,” you replied, confused as his smile dropped suddenly, his eyes leaving yours to his fingers that traced meaningless patterns against the tablecloth.

“Yeah, friends. I’d love to be your friend. Pasta?” he asked, holding up the bowl overflowing with aglio ollio, a stiff smile plastered on his face. You helped yourself to the food, commenting on the bright flavour as he admitted that he had learnt how to perfect the dish as it was Moon’s favourite, and basically the only thing that he could cook well. The conversation flowed stonely, awkward and even with the conclusion that you were friends, it felt stifled, like the two of you were playing a part in a play, small talk seeming scripted and wooden.

When the dinner came to an end, he protested you clearing the table but you stubbornly carried the plates to the kitchen, starting to wash them as Namjoon tried to stop you. He gave up halfway, content to watch you clean, your earlier words echoing in his head. I’d like to be your friend, Namjoon.

He didn’t want to be your friend though. He thought he did. He thought that he would be happy just to have you in his life at a safe distance, but the moment those words had left your lips it was like his stomach fell to the floor. He didn’t want to give you up. He missed you, missed that he had just indulged in you once, woke up next to you once before he had fucked it all up. And before he knew it, those words were escaping him.

“I don’t want to be friends.”

His words rang through you, the last plate you were rinsing slipping slightly from your fingers. You knew it would come to that eventually, that he would realise that it was almost pointless to be your friend. You had hoped it wouldn’t have happened this soon though. With a practised smile, you placed the plate onto the drying rack, wiping your hands on the dish towel stowed next to the sink, ready to take your leave.

“Oh… okay. Thanks for dinner then.”

But before you could move he was coming closer, a hand raised tentatively as he stared at your face, eyes roaming your features and lip tucked beneath his teeth.

“Don’t leave. I… I just… I don’t want to be friends.”

Your eyes met his as the meaning of the words registered slowly, hope blooming in your chest. It lit beneath your skin, coating you like honey, warm and sweet. But you still needed the assurance, “Then what do you want?”

“More,” he whispered, impossibly close now, the air between you sparking, nothing like the insulated tension from earlier. It was as if you could see it in front of it, golden glitter permeating in your vision, softly dispersing as he moved his hand till it was resting on your cheek, his thumb stroking the sparks into a fire.

When he leaned in, he moved slowly, the dark brown of his irises melting into his pupils as they searched yours for any hesitation. And then his lips moved, stealing your attention with their murmurs, “So much more.”

You lashes flickered on their own, eyelids closing seamlessly as his mouth gently met yours with the care you had come to expect of him. In the past months, you had learned that Namjoon cared wholeheartedly for everyone he deemed worthy. He gave his all – his strength, his weaknesses, his whole heart. And with his lips on yours he reminded you once again that you were one of those people he had decided to let in. There was no doubt left anymore as you wrapped your arms around him, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss.

Chest to chest, you could feel his heart beating against yours as his hands caressed your back as if testing the silk of your blouse before landing on your ass. Fingers squeezing the flesh, he moaned into your mouth eliciting one of your own, a sweet harmony once again united to string together. His body pushed against yours, his arousal impossible to hide as he pushed you against the counter, grinding into you slowly before he was picking you up and depositing you on the surface.

Your legs opened on their own, making space for him as he solidified his place in your heart. His lips migrated to your jaw, your heavy breaths the soundtrack to his journey down your body, each kiss leaving you thrumming and weightless, his long fingers unravelling each button with delicate care. With your shirt wide open, he took a moment to leave your skin to stare at you, the lacy red bra catching his attention before he haphazardly unbuttoned his own shirt, dropping it on the floor and wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you in a kiss that was no longer gentle but a frenzy.

His tongue wrestled with yours, his mouth swallowing each of your whimpers as he pushed your shirt off, his fingers tracing the lace and pulling it down to release your nipples so he could trace them with his thumbs. You could feel your heart race, your thighs tightening around him as lust flowed through you. It was as if he had your body memorised, knew where each nerve ending sparked into pleasure.

His teeth bit into your neck, blunt and delicious, making you keen before his lips wrapped around a nipple, tongue flicking in a way that made you see stars and dig your fingers into his scalp. You could feel his smile painted on your skin, your eyes seeing how his dimples would pop out in his cheeks even when they were closed. But you wanted more, so much more.

With a shove against his chest, he unlatched from you, staring at you in confusion before you were slipping off the counter and getting on your knees. He could feel the way his dick twitched at the position. He had never imagined you like this before and his mind screamed at him for such a blunder, but then again even he wasn’t creative enough to conjure an image as perfect as your eyes glistening up at him through your lashes, lips swollen from his kisses and hands unbuckling his belt at lightning pace. Before he knew it, his pants were halfway to his thighs, his boxers pushed along with them to reveal his cock.

He forgot to breathe when you smiled up at him radiantly, such an innocent look before you were licking up his length, fingers wrapped around him. You kissed against the head, your tongue circling the skin devilishly before your lips wrapped around him, suckling him slowly. You went deeper with each suck as if wanting to swallow him whole and Namjoon couldn’t keep his wits. How did he get this lucky?

With a large laugh that peetered out into a moan, he braced himself with his hands on the counter behind you, relishing the way your tongue traced his skin each time your head bobbled, turning him into a slow mush. Before he could stop himself, he thrust in your mouth, your moan vibrating around him in such delicious torture that he pulled back abruptly, too afraid to cum before he even got started.

Pulling you up by your hand, he crashed his lips on yours again, hands too eager to rip your pants off you as he wiggled out of his own. It was a silly dance, one that left you giggling in his mouth and had him chuckling back, euphoria bubbling through him.

When both your clothes were discarded, lost in his kitchen, he picked you up, letting you wrap yourself around him like a koala as he walked to his bedroom. He had dreamed of you back here, lost in his sheets as he lost himself in you and if there was one thing Namjoon did, it was go after his dreams.

Depositing you on to the bed he crawled between your legs, forgetting all about teasing to devour your arousal right from the source. A quick squeak left your lips as his tongue met your folds, flicking at your clit as he licked up your slit, stealing your breath. His hands roamed your thighs, eliciting goosebumps and whimpers, squeezing the flesh as his lips latched onto your clit. You were on the brink of your sanity, your vision clouding as he kept up his pulsating suckles. Your fingers wrapped around the sheets, pulling them from the corners as your back arched, hips canting against his face before he was holding them down, lapping at you furiously. His hands, his lips, his fingers all played a part in unravelling you, but it was when you looked down at him and caught the hunger in his eyes as he watched you squirm that made you explode, a loud whimper floating into the air at his unrelenting efforts.

He let you ride out your high before his lips let go, instead moving to kiss at your thighs, leaving little nibbles as they climbed up your body, from your stomach to your breasts to your neck, paying special attention to your tattoo, before he was kissing your lips once again, letting your tongue burst with your flavour.

“More?” he asked, his forehead against yours, his breath cooling your heated cheeks and you couldn’t help wrapping your arms around his strong shoulders, meeting his lips once again.

“So much more,” you echoed his earlier words, earning his dimples as he pecked your lips, once, twice and then once more before sitting up and reaching in his bedside drawer for a condom. His fingers were nimble, shaking a little from his excitement as he ripped it open and quickly rolled it on. Meeting you in another kiss, his forearms rested next to your head, his hips grinding into you.

Fingers caressing his back, you reached lower till your hand wrapped around his cock, guiding it slowly inside you. He entered leisurely, carefully stretching your walls, eyes gazing into yours, making you lose yourself in them. The two of you exhaled when he was fully buried inside you, the stillness of the room echoing around you as his fingers slowly moved your hair from your face.

The silence was broken first by your lips meeting eagerly and then by his hips leaving you only to slap back against yours in an intense thrust that led to your moans punctuating the sound. With each one of his strokes, his lips moved further away from yours, your breaths mingling with each other as you lost yourselves. It was ecstatic, the way his body moulded against yours, his chest cushioning you to the mattress, while your legs wrapped around him.

In all your years and all your relationships no one had felt this perfect, this quickly. How every cant of his hips brought you closer to your high, pulled out noises from your lips you had never imagined. He grunted along with you before the tightening of your walls compelled him to reach for your clit to prolong his pleasure more, to make you writhe around him more, to make your lips seek for his more. He met your desperation with his own, tongue meeting your teeth in a flurry as his abs clenched tighter, your thighs trapping him against you, your fingernails digging crescents into his ass.

Like a wave ebbing higher and higher, you wrapped yourself tighter around him, limbs locked in ecstasy before you crashed with a high-pitched whine of his name, your legs jerking with the sudden pleasure coursing through you in a rush. He moved faster, harder, keeping you suspended as his lips found yours again. Chanting your name in a stuttered whine, his high followed quickly after yours, leaving him breathless on top of you, his face buried in your neck.

When your heart had steadied, he leaned up, kissing you decadently, luxuriating in your taste, a gentle aftermath of the flurry from earlier. His fingers stroked your scalp, leaving behind content tingles that soothed you, your fingers mirroring his actions through his hair.

You had never felt so at peace.

When he had his fill of your lips, he stood up, admiring your body before pulling you with him into the shower. Slowly kisses under warm water never felt better, your hands indulging in his body, roaming over his sculpted chest and toned stomach.

“I missed you,” he confessed, arms around you as water flowed from him to you, both of you revelling in the warmth of the water, of the moment.

“I missed you, too,” you replied, standing on the tip of your toes to kiss his nose, enjoying the way the action made him blush and shyly hide his face with a giggle.

Dressed in his oversized t-shirt, you climbed into bed, watching as he tidied up, folding your clothes. It was an endearing habit, one he picked up from cleaning Moon’s toys when she was younger, too many legos under his feet a painful motivator. He pulled his phone from his pants pocket before climbing in next to you, his chest moulded to your back, long arms around you as he told you about different songs he had been working on. He didn’t have the strongest of vocals, but his low gruff was comforting, it’s unpolished notes a serenade as he scrolled through his demos, playing snippets.

“I might’ve been inspired by the night of your birthday for this one,” Namjoon admitted quietly as he played the next song, his face buried behind your shoulders. It was a fast beat, the bass notes popping with a fun melody, electronic drums bouncing along. But what truly made your heart flutter were the words, his husky voice singing them softly.

Too many words circle around me But none of them feel how I feel I just feel it Like the moon rises after the sun rises Like how fingernails grow Like trees that shed their bark once a year That you are the one who will give meaning to my memories Who will make a 'person' into 'love'

You pouted as the song continued, a beautiful confession that had you turning in his arms to kiss him, too overwhelmed to do anything else. No one had ever written you a song, no one had ever expressed their feelings like this before, in a way that was almost bordering on magical. If your younger self knew that the lead of your fantasies would be singing you something he wrote solely for you, she would’ve passed out. The song ended with the chorus and a request.

You're my person, my person, my person You're my desire, my desire, my desire You're my pride, my pride, my pride You're my love One and only love You know... We were always meant to be... Destiny... I hope you feel the same with me..

“I do feel the same,” you murmured against his lips, kissing his smile as he pulled you closer, legs tangled with yours.

“Good because this is going in the album and it would suck if it didn’t make you smile every time I played it,” he teased, kissing your nose before you leaned away, looking at him confused.

“Album?”

“Comeback album. Dark and Wild’s back.” He grinned widely and even though usually you’d be distracted by his dimples, this time no matter how large your eyes got you couldn’t register them. Because in your head there was a childish giddiness you had thought you would never experience. Holding up a finger, you turned away from him to grab a pillow, screaming in excitement, limbs flailing as your adolescent dreams of a reunion came true. You knew it was going to happen but you never imagined how much the news would affect you.

Namjoon laughed, pulling the pillow from over your head and kissing you once more, your excitement making him even more eager for the comeback. He laid you on his chest as you asked him questions and he regaled the story of how the decision was made based on a game of chance and your roommate’s stupid actions.

“Thank you for helping me get my dream again,” Namjoon whispered, grateful that he had written to you and that you had responded.

He owed a lot to fate for whisking you into his arms.

—————

Epilogue

It was dark around you, but that was only because the lights on stage were so bright. Music boomed. Guitar riffs were clean even with their distortion. Drums were loud, cracking in the air. Hoseok’s growl echoed through your bones as you watched Dark and Wild perform, the sweet smell of manufactured smoke surrounding you. Yoongi did his signature move, licking up the fretboard of his guitar as Jimin grinned, lip between his teeth, and muted chords spilling from his amp. Right at the chorus, Seokjin kneeled on the ground, blowing a kiss to the audience as he played along, right when Taehyung started belting, licking his lips and letting the words float out of him. Jungkook played faster, increasing the tempo of the song just as his drum set was lifted into the air, spinning in circles, metres above the stage. You cheered loudly as the song ended, Namjoon looking for you in the wings and tossing a wink cheekily.

It was like being thrown back in time. It was surreal. Yet, it was so real.

Moon squealed next to you when Hoseok introduced her, a stark contrast to how she was tapping her drumsticks on her legs nervously a few minutes ago. “Good luck,” you whispered with a hug, and she squeezed you tight before running onto the stage in her ripped jeans and black tulle top, a grungy throwback to the outfits she used to wear as a kid.

Sitting on a second drum set, she waved to the crowd as Jungkook timed her in, the two setting off into a vicious solo together as Seokjin and Namjoon provided the background to the melodic dissonance. The crowd went wild, screaming at the top of their lungs, and you even saw someone throw their bra on stage, just like old times.

The show ended with the first song the band had ever released, War of Hormones. The lyrics were a little cringey with time, but the band laughed along as they played, bantering about how stupid their teenage selves were during the guitar solo. But you couldn’t help the tears in your eyes as you watched them perform, your face hurting from how hard you were smiling, your fingers wrapped around the pass on your neck.

Heart pounding in time with the bass, you watched the guys finish their last song to an earth shattering applause, the crowd going wild. It seemed that the floor was shaking with their stomps and claps.

Centre stage, the men took a bow, before Namjoon put Moon on his shoulders and the group recreated the photo they took on the last day of their tour before retiring. He made a stupid joke about his back hurting when he put her down, Moon returning her own quip about him being old as the audience laughed.

With their arms around each other, Hoseok spoke into the mic, beaming into the crowd.

“Thank you Shadows! We’ve been Dark and Wild and fuck it’s good to be back!”

taglist - @awhnamjoon @alpacaseoks @raplinesmoon @codeinebelle @aislinnstanaka @miscelunaaa @moonchild1 @shydestinyyouth @itsjaneeet @piecesofapril11 @yoontaethings @jeonyreads

Thank you for reading this fic! If you liked it, please tell me your thoughts. I worked very hard on this and would appreciate your feedback! 🥰🥺

Please reblog and check out more stories on my masterlist <3

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kthyg · 1 year

Text

ghoul. — (rhapsodies)

[SPECIAL INSTALMENT: (CHRISTMAS) RHAPSODIES]

pairing: ot7 x reader

rating: 13+

genre: tokyo ghoul au, soulmate au, fluff

disclaimer: this story is a work of fiction. descriptions of the BTS members in this story does not reflect nor portray them in real life. everything in this story only fits in imagination and does not apply outside of imagination.

warning: nothing much, just; domestic yoongi, domestic jin, lots of soft kisses, hugging, an emotional and sentimental moment with yoongi and his first love, cannibalism joke (just once from tae). japanese terms of endearment are used in this by jin and tae.

word count:

lexicon & profiles | masterpost | masterlist | navigation

note from winter 💌:

this is my first christmas fic - yeayy!! also this is just my poor excuse to be extra emotional and sentimental idk idk i want to give a nice scene for my ghoul babies bcs ik they wont hv a nice scene for some time in normal ver ha ah ha ah…

this instalment is the softest I've ever written...

its been a long time since I write a story based on a song. the last time was winter flower by younha ft rm, a story about a girl healing from depression but reached a point where she couldn't handle it anymore, suddenly wanting to end everything. it was a open ending story tho :) anddd now rhapsodies joins as the second story that is based on a song.

also, just a friendly reminder that rhapsodies is not sharing the same timeline as the released chapters of ghoul. if possible, its a future story but whatever information (such as relationship, places, etc...) in this instalment is valid for the alt story and main story :D

ok so i don’t really celebrate christmas but i think i kind of know the feeling (not 100% because i would love to celebrate holiday season with snow ;-;) because i have gone through it with my maternal relatives - i joined them during 2019’s christmas! 🫶🏻

I HOPE IT ISNT TOO LATE FOR A CHRISTMAS GIFT 🥹 (be nice w me this is the first time i've ever written a full fluff)

💌 what is winter listening to? : first love by bts (suga) & piano ver by smyang piano, first love by hikaru utada, christmas tree by v, my dearest by amalee (original by supercell).

📝 if you want to know more about this au, you can refer to lexicon & profiles. any other questions you can refer to me !!

dedication: to my first love.

Snow has been falling for days now, piling into a thick layer of what looked like shaved ice on almost everything. It was a special evening today; your squad, the Q squad was preparing to celebrate Christmas. You and Yoongi had invited the others; Taehyung, Jungkook, Hoseok, Namjoon, Jimin – your and Yoongi's soulmates, - Rosé, Mingyu, Minghao and Sunoo.

You sat comfortably and warmly in the company of the fireplace and your members, Jisoo, and Lisa, as the three of you decorated the Christmas tree. The pine tree that stood mightily in front of you was a real deal, all thanks to Namjoon.

When you told him you have always celebrated with the artificial one with your loyal friend, Somi, during your days in the Jeon Quarter, he immediately told you he would buy the real one just for you. He had done the same thing for Jungkook back then because unlike you, Jungkook couldn't even celebrate the festive season during his childhood.

You could've disagreed and told him to get the artificial one, but all your soulmates agreed with Namjoon before you could even voice your opinion and defeatedly accepted his decision. You couldn't stop him from doing things his way – The strong-headed Kim Namjoon.

The crackling fire sound was soothing to your ears. The warmth of the fire was very inviting for you to jump to the couch and wrap yourself with a blanket and a mug of hot chocolate providing extra warmth in your palm.

Curling into a ball, basking in the heavenly warmth on this cold day; you could always do that any other time. As you and your friends decorated the tree in meaningful silence, the doorbell rang, disrupting the silence.

"Can someone go get the door?" Jin yelled out the request from the kitchen.

Jisoo immediately got on her feet as she volunteered with a cheery smile, "On it!" But her smile was quick to fade once she reached the door and opened it as she mumbled in a boring tone. "Oh, it's you…"

Greeting with an equally boring tone, "Save the disappointment for another day, 'lil sis," Taehyung rolled his eyes. "I'm here for my lovers anyways."

"Who's at the door, Soo-ya?" You asked, making your way towards the door. Once you've seen the invited guest, you beamed, "Oh–! Hi, V."

"Hi, hime," he opened his arms as an invitation for you to slot in and you did. He smooched the crown of your head lovingly as the lovely nickname spilt from his lips warmed your cheeks.

"Come in," you broke the hug and ushered him to step in. "Jin's in the kitchen preparing food for tonight, and Yoongi's in his room."

"(Y/N)!" Jin called for you. "Can you help me here?"

"Be there in a second!" You responded and turned back to your soulmate with a welcoming smile, you told him, "Make yourself at home, Tae."

Once you were completely out of their vision, the silence was loud, "Don't get too comfortable," Jisoo narrowed her eyes at her brother.

"Stop being so hostile," he sighed deeply. "It's Christmas, for God's sake."

"Hostility is subjective," she retorted.

"It will be objective today or I'll have your half-human flesh as dinner tonight."

"Obscene!" She gasped out loud as her hand reached out to slap Taehyung's shoulder, offended.

"Jisoo, the Christmas tree isn't going to decorate itself!" Lisa shouted from the living room.

"Of course it won't, Lisa!" She huffed but obliged either way as she turned towards to living room, continuing decorating the Christmas tree.

The kitchen was filled with the heavenly and divine smell of delicious meals being cooked. Jin multitasked his way through the kitchen since the afternoon. Yoongi has been helping him but he retreated to his room after some time now.

"Hey, kareshi," your arms snaked around his waist as you hugged him from the back, chin resting on his shoulder as you asked, "What do you need help with?"

"Hello, kanojo," his thumb brushed across the skin of your hand that was wrapped around his waist lovingly and softly. "Who was that?"

"It's Taehyung," you told him.

"He's early," he mused to himself. He turned around to face you as he rested his arms on your shoulders, lazily slinging them around you. "Can you help me with the chicken?"

"Of course," you smiled.

Jin lowered his face, killing the distance between your face and his as he placed a quick kiss on your lips. It was a short moment of two lips having contacted but the heat still flared up to your cheeks and your stomach filled with butterflies.

"It won't be long; you can check on Yoongi in his room after you're done."

You stifled a giggle with a frown, "I didn't even tell you I was going to check on him."

"Soulmate instinct," he winked at you and stole yet another kiss from you. This time he remained a bit longer. No tongues were involved as it was purely lips-to-lips interaction but were enough to be a very meaningful kiss.

A frown on his temple, fingers cupping his chin as Jungkook pondered. He and Namjoon were on their way to Yoongi's squad apartment but decided to stop by the 5th ward mall because Jungkook decided to buy a present for you. He knew you had told all of them to not buy you anything, but he was never the one to listen, so here he was.

"What should I give (Y/N) for Christmas?" Jungkook asked his companion as they walked into the mall. The mall was decorated with Christmas lights, trees, and all other related decorations. The branded stores also decorated up to the session and released brand new items to fit into the festive session.

"A lingerie?" Namjoon suggested mindlessly.

"What the fuck, hyung." Again, a deep frown found its place on Jungkook's forehead at his soulmate's idea.

"It's a suggestion." He shrugged.

"Well, what do I buy her lingerie for?" The younger cast cursory glances at the stores. Feet had their own mind as Jungkook walked to wherever his feet took him, and Namjoon followed suit.

Having a late realisation, Jungkook's eyes widened, "Are you hinting I should fuck her tonight? At Yoongi's apartment?"

Namjoon gave his soulmate a side glance, "Not a bad idea?" then he shrugged, "I would prefer calling it love making though, since it's Christmas."

Jungkook let silence be the language between them as they continued to stroll around the mall until there was nothing to be explored but as if the brain had relied on the conversation they just shared, their feet stopped in front of a lingerie store.

"Maybe it's not a bad idea after all."

"Told you." And Namjoon walked into the store with Jungkook trailing behind.

"Jimin put that down."

Hoseok's deep voice burst Jimin's little bubble of fantasy as he glared at the younger. "What? Hyung, no," he flashed his soulmate the white fluffy tail butt plug and a pair of white fur cat ears. "This is cute!"

The other only gave him a dirty look, "You're just kinky."

Jimin had heard that almost every time, he was shameless and immune to it. 'Kinky' has probably become a compliment for him now. He would be more than proud if someone called him so.

"You would like it if it's on (Y/N)," you would definitely look cute in this, no doubt.

The tail-like butt plug inserted in your arsehole, leaving your pussy dripping with wetness, and the cute cat ears to match the tail. You'd look so pliant and submissive, and with that costume, it would give an extra hardness, extra adrenaline rush, blood rush down to their cocks–

"Or unless you'd like it on you?"

Flabbergasted, heat rushed to Hoseok's face both from embarrassment (for thinking about you in a public setting and popping a boner) and humiliation (from Jimin's sexual innuendo), "Hah – whatthefuck, shut up Jimin!"

"That's what I thought," he has a smug grin tugging on his lips.

"Thank you for purchasing!"

What.

"Jimin!" No way he actually bought it.

Well, you'd look cute either way.

Yoongi wasn't in his room.

And when that happened, he could only be in one place. You stood in front of the door – the door to the space where he found solace at any time given.

You have been in there with him occasionally. The two of you would sit in silence, content with just the presence of each other as the bright stars in the dark sky became the only source of entertainment most of the time you and him were in the room.

On rare occasions, Yoongi would sit on the brown piano, you next to him and play you a piece that never told you the name of it even when you had asked about it. He would brush the question away with a kiss on your temple and the same word "Untitled".

And right before you, the sound of the 'Untitled' piece was playing. Your hand reached to knock on the door, "Yoongi?"

"Kitten," his voice was mellow as he answered you. "Come in."

Stepping in, you took in your surroundings. It was the same as when you last saw it. There wasn't much to keep a tab on the room except for the brown piano that settled on one side of the corner, the only furniture in this spacious room of nostalgia – as Yoongi would call it. "What are you doing here alone?"

"I'm not alone," he told you. He was sitting on the piano stool as his fingers rested in between the keys. "I'm with my first love." He looked at the piano fondly before he brought his gaze to you with equal, or if could, greater fondness.

"First love?" You asked as you approached him. The room was dark with no source of light except for the sun outside. The sun was slipping, creating a glorious conflagration that blazed fiery colours. They appeared silky, smooth combinations of red, yellow, and blue in the sky that illuminated the room, colouring it like the sky.

"The piano," his hand reached out to take yours in his, guiding you towards the seat next to him. "The first thing I learn to love."

Placing your fingers delicately on the piano keys, you pressed the keys of Yoongi's favourite piece, the one he named 'Untitled'. You didn't play it until the end although you did remember the whole piece just from listening to him playing it. Reaching the last note of the piece, your fingers retreated from the keys. "Do you want to tell me about your first love story?"

Your voice has always been so soft, delicate, and mellow. Who was Yoongi to reject your request? Maybe it was the time you knew the meaning behind the piece you had just played that you learned by heart from him. Chuckling, his fingers started to move around the keys as he silently answered your request.

"From the corner of my memory, in the corner of my childhood house," fingers leisurely hit the keys. "A piano was there."

"Hmm?" Your fingers joined his on the keys, as you played to harmonise with him. "What colour was it?"

"Brown," he breathed out. "A brown piano settled on one side."

He continued, "I remember that moment, where I was barely any taller than the brown piano. I looked up to it, because of my height but also because I was in awe. I yearned for it the moment I had touched it my little fingers."

"It felt nice, I told my mom." His fingers pressed on the last notes before changing to another key. "I was content. Just from looking at it. It felt so nice that I played, however, my fingers wanted and even then, I still didn't know its significance."

"It's nice that you know your first love even as a child."

"What's your first love, kitten?" He asked, fingers still on the keys.

Yours too, on the white jade-like keys, as you answered him, eyes closed. "Us."

You continued, "I didn't understand the concept of first love back then, but my parents could easily be my first love, but I know I love them from the moment I was brought to this world. I didn't learn to love them because by default, I have already loved them. They were my unconditional love."

Your fingers paused mid-air, "First love," resumed, "It can be interpreted in many ways,"

The first time you learn how to truly love,

The first time you love,

The first time you felt truly loved,

The first time you are loved,

The first time experiencing the true definition of love.

"But it will always have the same impact; unforgettable and irreplaceable."

"True," Yoongi agreed softly, the soulful melody still filling the room.

The mellow sound that came from the graceful movements of Yoongi's fingers on the piano continued to become honey to your ears. Your fingers were now placed on your lap as you let your lover play the black and whites on his own.

You turned to look at him, to take in his beautiful side profile. His skin was glowing. His eyes were closed as he focused on letting his digits work their wonders on the eighty-eight.

He looked stunning.

Sometimes, less was more, and you didn't need to elaborate more on Yoongi's majestic presence.

Ethereal.

"First love isn't always sunshine and rainbows," he told you once he finally opened his eyes, his fingers had stopped, leaving the last note he had pressed echoing around the room. "Back then during my elementary school days, I remember, I was finally taller than the piano."

"But dust was piling on top of the white jade-like keys. I neglected it when I yearned for it so much. I still failed to see its significance," his fingers were like a feather as he ghosted his fingertips on the keys.

Melancholy as he continued, "Until a day came that marked the last day of the piano."

"Don't feel sorry for not recognising the significance or recognising it late," you told him.

Your fingers raised in the air and were softly placed on the right keys as you pressed. Fingers had their own mind as they danced on the black and whites, continuing where he had left. "Don't worry even if I leave. You will do well on your own. Though it is an end to our relationship, greet me happily when we meet again, no matter in what form."

Yoongi looked at you with acute nostalgia. One hand of yours left the bar of whites and blacks as you reached for his hand, "Let's give a proper greeting to your first love."

The brown piano that stood mightily in front of you was the exact brand of piano Yoongi had back then. It might not be the original form of his first love, but in whatever form a piano could be, it will still be the first love of Yoongi.

"Let's finish this piece together."

Even though I was gone for a long time,

Without repulsion,

You accepted me.

His fingers picked up where they had left as he confessed, "You may not be my first love, but you and the others will always be my eternal love. The people I loved, love and will love for eternity."

Even when I pushed you away,

Even when I resented meeting you,

You were firmly by my side.

"I wish to love you the way of my first love, I want to love you every day."

So don't ever let go of my hand.

I won't let you go ever again either.

"If there comes a day where we have to end everything the eight of us share, I wish to continue loving you, every day until my days end."

The two of you hit the last keys, and as if feathers, fingers were lifted slowly and smoothly from the keys. The piece came to an end. It came to a meaningful end. An end that filled with so many emotions. Conflicted at first but harmonised in the end.

"I love you, (Y/N)."

"I love you too, with all of me."

The sun slipped completely away from the horizon as the light on the sky was then replaced with clouds of dust of bright, shining stars;

A kiss sealed the vow.

–

The food was almost done by the time you entered the kitchen with Yoongi. Jin was preparing the plates and utensils along with the dishes to be put on the table with the help of his younger sister and Lisa. You and Yoongi joined them to help but Jin shook his head and said that everything was almost done and asked the two of you to accompany Taehyung into the living room.

When your feet strode towards the living room, the doorbell suddenly rang again, making you halt in your steps along with Yoongi as you looked at him, "I think that's the remaining guests," you motioned him to sit with Taehyung as you walked towards the door. "Let me get the door."

Once you twisted the doorknob to open, you were greeted with two figures, both having muscular build and cute faces, carrying almost the same aura had you not known these guys like the back of your hand.

Namjoon was the first to greet you as he pulled you into a hug, "Merry Christmas, princess," he kissed your cheeks before going for your lips. You savoured the feeling of his plush lips on yours.

He pulled back and said, "Apologies for our delay."

Jungkook was quick to lock you into a tight hug and cradle your head in his arms. You returned his hug with equal enthusiasm before replying to Namjoon, "No, don't worry. You guys are not late at all," you broke the hug, much to Jungkook's displeasure as he whined at the loss of warm contact.

"Plus, Jinnie just finished cooking," you added.

The sound of a car's nearing the neighbourhood made Jungkook whip his head towards that direction. Recognising the car and the wild skill of driving (no value for both life and the car; Jimin), he said, "I think that's Jimin and Hoseok."

The three of you watched as Jimin safely and perfectly parallel-parked his car next to Taehyung's. Hoseok got out of the car and appeared to be nagging about something as his mouth danced at a fast pace with a frown etched on his forehead.

Probably nagging at Jimin, again, for his reckless driving.

When Hoseok neared the entrance where you, Namjoon, and Jungkook stood, his eyes shone with bright felicity as he waved enthusiastically in your direction. His lips could practically be seen as a lovely heart shape with perfectly aligned teeth to complement his charming look.

"My lady," He reached for your hand to kiss your knuckles. "Hello, lovely ladybug."

"Hello, Hobi," you gave his cheek a quick peck before he moved on to greet his other soulmates with the same gesture.

"Doll," Jimin was like a wind as one second, he was right behind Hoseok and the next second, he was already in front of you while his arms snaked around your waist, locking them to leave no room for space between you and him. His nose caressed yours before his pillowy lips lowered down to seal a kiss with your lips.

Pulling away at a small distance, breath mingled with his as you wished him, "Merry Christmas, prince charming," and he took your lips on his again. Your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer.

After some moment, you pulled away – because you knew he wouldn't – to let him greet his other soulmates. Just like Hoseok, Jimin was a fair and equal person as he kissed the others as well. When you thought no one else was coming, a female figure was approaching, and it was a figure you knew so well.

"Rosie, my favourite flower!" You ran towards her with a gleeful smile. Arms opened as an invitation for her to intertwine and exchange body heat with you.

Finally reaching you, she wrapped you with her winter coat, "(Y/N), my favourite person!"

"You walked here?"

She nodded, "The distance between R squad house and Q's is not that far, you know that!"

Giggling, you broke the hug and walked her towards the door where all your soulmates have been watching your interaction with Jimin's younger sister. Once you reached them, Jimin snatched– pulled you to his side – to which Rosie rolled her eyes at her brother's unspoken possessive act.

"Ahem," a voice interrupted.

"Gyu!" A gasp escaped your throat once your eyes landed on the newcomer – or newcomers, plural because he wasn't alone. "I thought you wouldn't come."

Another figure approached your crowd, and you couldn't help but smile once you saw who it was. It has been so long since you've seen them because Gyu's squad was assigned to a mission in China. Minghao reached out to you for a greeting hug as jested on his soulmate, "He? Wouldn't come? He was literally so excited when you sent us the invitation."

"Of course, I would come, lotus," Mingyu rolled his eyes at him and come to join your hug with Minghao. "I'm your life-time partner."

"We are partners," Minghao italicised. He then directed his full attention on you as he nuzzled his face in your neck. "I miss you, dainty lotus." Although the hug didn't last long because you were pulled away by none other than Jimin. Minghao was bewildered at the sudden loss of warmth, but Rosie patted his shoulder with a shake of her head, "Don't mind it."

Another voice entered the scene with sassiness, "Are you guys done yet?"

Sunoo walked to the door of the house. He had arrived shortly after Taehyung and helped Jin in the kitchen. He crossed his arms as he said, "Close the door because it's so freaking cold outside."

"Jeez, Sunoo," Minghao slung his arms around the younger's shoulders. "Cut that sassiness, it's Christmas!"

Rosé jumped on the duo cheerfully, "Right? Chill a bit," she said with a light tone.

"I am chill," he slapped Minghao's chest playfully. "Just close the door and get it you guys. It's freezing outside."

You chuckled before urging them to get warm inside. Jimin was still by your side as all of them walked towards the living room until he saw Taehyung on the couch. All your soulmates that have just newly come immediately greeted him. Jimin hogged him and smothered him with kisses on the face and one deep kiss on the lips. You watched the duo fondly. The eight of you might have shared a deep bond but maybe Jimin and Taehyung shared an even deeper bond with each other, and you admired it.

You saw Yoongi already making his way towards you and with expectant arms, you welcomed him into your embrace as he slotted in perfectly by your side. It brought back old memories where you had always thought Yoongi was a person that hates physical touch, though it was true to an extent because he was only touchy with his soulmates and especially with you but loathed having skin contact even the slightest with other than listed.

"Merry Christmas, guys," Jin walked into the living space as he greeted them one by one including your friends. The apron that he has been stuck with has finally been removed from his body and his clothes have changed. "Let's eat before the food gets cold."

You let yourself be situated in between Namjoon and Hoseok at the dining table and enjoyed the food Jin had cooked with so much love – helped by your members and Sunoo as well – The room was filled with chatter and laughter as the food goes down into everyone's stomach. They went from KCCG matters, as you asked Mingyu and Minghao about their mission in China – you knew they wouldn't have a difficult time in China given that Minghao knew the way around the country – to some random topic to not let an awkward silence fill in the room.

Before Christmas, all of them including you had made an astounding achievement that you would like to consider this Christmas celebration as a celebration not just for the festive season but also for them. Rosé and Tae's squads joined hands in the 2nd Wipe Out Operation conducted by Namjoon, S2 Squad; you, Jimin, Jungkook, Jin and Yoongi, was successful during the Owl Suppression Operation that was led by Hoseok, and the latest; Mingyu and Minghao's mission in China.

It has been a tough, hectic weeks, but everything was successful and everyone was safe as they returned in one piece. You were glad your soulmates were willing to celebrate Christmas along with your friends – especially Mingyu and Minghao. You knew your soulmates would very much want to celebrate this festive season with the company of eight, and that was why you were glad they had agreed to celebrate it together.

Also given that it was the first Christmas you got to celebrate with your soulmates.

The first Christmas where you get to celebrate with your loved ones, your first love.

The first Christmas you get to create lots of memorable memories with your loved ones.

It was the very first true Christmas you celebrated after your parents' death.

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gimmethatagustd · 1 month

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Just read Sunday Smut Bookclub! I loved it so much!! As someone who is still a virgin at almost 30 and is trying to parse out whether that’s due to being asexual or demisexual or something like that or if it’s the body insecurity and anxiety, I literally cried. Like if I could trust someone to treat me like Namjoon treats Yoongi to help me figure that all out ????? Or if I felt confident enough to just ask for what I want and need straight out like Yoongi did in this???

The line “Yoongi loves fics like those. They feel how Namjoon’s hands feel when he holds the small of Yoongi’s back and cradles the side of his face when he pulls him into a kiss” took me all the way out!!! Really the whole paragraph before about the way reading fic can make you feel comforted in general I related to and then that transfer of that comfort to this sexual situation!!!! Yo, like… 🥹🥹🥹🥹

But this fic definitely made me laugh too! Literally laughed out loud reading “Can I eat you out” “Oh, uh, ya.”

And the meta-ness was really fun! I didn’t read the authors note going in so I was surprised at BTS showing up and vocal line being members. I also write fic (though I haven’t published anything yet, I might sometime, but right now it’s just getting my thoughts and ideas out and most of my stories don’t have endings lol), and also (like Yoongj described) kind if stop at that moment before smut happens or gloss over it. Like I have one really great Namjoon reader insert scene that I love but that’s the only one I’ve been able to do with any sort of satisfaction and idk how I got in the mindspace to do it lol. So I related so hard in so many ways!!!

Bc I didn’t read the author’s note I dove into it thinking it’d be a nice lunch break smut reading sesh but was pleasantly surprised with how else it impacted me! Thanks so much for writing and sharing this!!!!

hi friend, sorry it has taken me a while to respond to your ask. i read it and immediately gushed to my partner about it (i talked to them about that fic cuz it holds a lot of my personal feelings about physical intimacy in it), and i wanted to kind of sit with it until i felt like i could give you a proper response and not just the unhinged shit i normally respond to feedback with

i'm so happy that it left an impact on you! normally i write fics just cuz i love writing silly little stories (i'm sure you understand since you said you write too!) BUT with this fic i genuinely thought as i was writing, "i really hope people appreciate this" - not because i wanted praise or anything, but an appreciation for being able to either 1) relate to the content or 2) open their eyes to a new way of looking at smut in fanfic and also just simply a sexual orientation that we honestly ignore in the fanfic community imo. i rarely see asexual representation, and so much of fanfic is about smut

like no shade !! most of my fics include smut, and pretty graphic smut, but it's exhausting to write as someone on the ace spectrum, and i think a lot of readers don't realize that. it genuinely takes a lot of effort, and not just cuz we want to write it well, but just... the whole thing is not what we're used to (and also as a virgin i'm sure it's an even more complicated thing to work through). add in some good ole gender dysphoria and YIKES what an experience

like, i haven't had sex with a cis man since 2019 kshdfkjs and yet here i am, dick-in-pussy'ing all over tumblr.com

ANYWAY thank you for sharing this. i hope you're able to work through how you feel with your sexuality. it's def a journey. and also it's important to know that 1) sexuality is a spectrum and 2) if you never have sex or have sex but are never truly into it like most people are, that's ok too! i wrote namjoon as this soft, accepting guy cuz i didn't want yoongi to suddenly like sex just cuz he hooked up with a hot guy. he walked away still unwilling to have sex in the future, and namjoon is cool with that. no one should ever make you feel bad for not wanting to have sex

but also, i would do anything kim taehyung asked me to do, so, sometimes there can be exceptions jdhfkjs 🤪

if you ever post your fic, i'd love to read it! and if you ever need help writing smut, i'm happy to talk to you about it 💜

#jai asks #supermarket-sweep #sorry this is long #but like idk #i have a lot of feelings #ssbc #happy things ✨

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spookyserenades · 1 year

Note

THE LATEST CHAPTER WAS AMAZING! I’m a pagan so it’s really cool to have a main character with similar practices, I’ve never seen a fic like this before!! And all the characters keep making my heart speed up. Namjoon getting tipsy, Hoseok always teasing, Jinnie giving absolute soul mate vibes, Yoongi (love of my life) being so caring and sweet, Jimin just being the cutest little southern bell, Tae is really a teddy bear not a Kodiak bear I just know it, and Jungkook with that reveal at the end!!! I have a weakness for protective and maybe a little bit dangerous guys who have a soft spot, and let me just say you characterizations of the boys are killing me I love them so much. Also, Most importantly, I’ve seen you’re having a hard time lately and I just want to encourage you to take all the time you need. Please take care of yourself <3 Thank you so much for writing such an amazing fic and taking your time to share it with us.

AHHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH!! The plot is definitely picking up now that we're past a bit of world building, so I'm excited to see how everyone reacts to the pace of the story :)

I'm also a pagan!! I've been a little self-indulgent writing Trouvaille, so I'm really really happy that you've found this story and can relate to the MC so well! She'll slowly get back in touch with her roots and spirituality as time goes on, so I hope you like some of the magical aspects of the plot with future updates :)

One of my goals was to have the reader fall totally in love with each of the hybrids, so I'm kicking my feet and blushing that you're smitten with them all! I love the Jin soulmate vibes you brought up, he's just so sweet and romantic already... and bad boy Jungkook, the man of so many people's dreams, protective, sharp of tongue (sexy... LOL)! I'm thrilled that you love all of the hybrids, they really worm their way into your heart quickly <3

I also want to thank you sincerely for your kind words, I've really been trying my best to take it easy and surround myself with family and friends. Truthfully, kind words from you and others on this blog have comforted me as well, along with chatting about Trouvaille. Thank you thank you thank you for your love and support, for reading this fic, and sending me a kind message-- I hope you have a wonderful week <3

#asks #<3 #trouvaille #dana's thoughts

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caelesjjk · 2 years

Note

hi!! i just wanted to say thank you so much for blessing us with sanguine!! it’s so amazing and well written and i was immediately hooked by just the first paragraph of chapter 🥹💖 definitely has been my favorite fanfic i’ve ever read and it’s just getting started!! waking up to chapter 2 made my whole day!! the chemistry between jungkook and y/n.. jungkook’s gift to her and their lil date in the city has me so soft 🥹🥹🥹 and namjoon and yoongi and seokjin and hoseok’s characters? *chefs kiss* i love them sm they’re absolutely precious and i will cry if anything happens to them 😭🥹💖 i’m so, so excited to see where this story goes!! i just know it will be great!! thank you sm for sharing this story with us!!

Anon, this made my whole day. I don’t get interaction like this too often and it just makes my heart happy.

Thank you for reading. I love writing this fic so much and I can’t wait to keep developing these characters more.

I just can’t thank you enough for taking a minute to send me this sweet message. 🥰🥰💜💜

#anon love #sanguine feedback

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strawbkoo · 2 years

Text

stress relief | jjk (m)

Jeongguk has kicked you out of your shared apartment numerous times to have sex. The last thing he was expecting was to come home one night to a sock on the doorknob.

pairing: jeongguk x fem!reader

rating/genre: m | college au, roommates au, f2l, fluff, smut, teeny tiny bit of angst, fuckboy!jk (he’s just horny not mean), pining

word count: 5.1k

warnings: jealousy, bit of swearing, alcohol consumption, non-con (for like a second), oral (f), asking to give oral (m), fingering, nipple sucking, toys (dildo), manhandling, protective sex, aftercare

a/n: this is the first time i’m taking a step into bts fics!! going from reading a ton to writing ahhhh i’m so excited and so insanely nervous... so pls enjoy this and lmk if you liked it!!!

m.list

Trudging up the steps, you curse the elevator for breaking down on your longest day. Exhausted, you dream of hitting the pillows and immediately drifting off to sleep. But all of that halts the moment you see the grey sock on the doorknob. You double-check the apartment number, hoping, praying that you’re just on the wrong level. But no, the gold 605 taunts you.

“Fuck you, Jeon Jeongguk.”

Taking your phone out you dial Jimin, begging him if you can stay at his tonight. Thankfully Jimin is a gracious host and has a guest room in his shared apartment with his boyfriend, pillows nearly as soft as yours.

“It’s like the fifth time in the span of two weeks. The man has a libido the size of his ego,” you complain as you put three plates out on the dining table.

“I mean, I wouldn’t say that’s much, but that’s coming from someone in a relationship. How does he get all those girls?” Jimin quips, putting the stew in the middle of the table, making sure nothing spills.

“He goes out with his boys all the time right?” Namjoon points out. “The last time I saw Yoongi he was complaining about how he has no alone time because Taehyung and Seokjin drag him out almost every night.”

“Yeah, it’s impressive how often they see each other. Not like that’s a bad thing, just not great when Jeongguk happens to get laid every time they do,” you huff, thanking Jimin and Namjoon for the stew and serving them both a bowl first.

Jimin looks at you, a little pity in his eyes, “Not very fun when you’re in love with him, huh?”

You just look down playing with the meat floating in the stew. Every once in a while you feel that hurt rushing back in seeing that sock on the doorknob, but you’ve become so numb to it the past few months it barely stings. But thinking of what he’s doing in there, with someone that’s not you, it makes your throat get stuffy.

“Like he’d even care.” Because it’s true. If he wanted to he could have you in an instant. It’s just that he doesn’t want you.

“You should start bringing your hookups home,” Jimin proposes pointing a spoon at you, Namjoon serving him a bowl of rice.

Namjoon huffs out a laugh, “What hookups? The poor girl hasn’t seen any action since she got here.”

“That’s not true!” you say indignantly, cheeks heating up from the call-out. “I’ve gotten plenty of action, I’ve just been busy with the end of year project I haven’t had time to find someone.”

“For that long? Haven’t you been doing that for like 8 months?”

You nod, watching both Jimin and Namjoon’s jaws hang slack. Okay, so maybe it’s been more than a bit of time since you’ve had any. It’s not sad. Not at all.

“That’s like- that’s like forever!” Jimin says, absolutely floored at the realisation.

“Yeah, for you guys! You’ve been dating for like 4 years, it’s not very long for singles like me,” you mumble the last part, not even convincing yourself.

“Yeah, no, that’s a straight-up lie,” Jimin chuckles. “Well, that just means you have to come out with us on Saturday. No take-backs.”

You groan, an excuse ready.

“You deserve a break, Yn, and some stress relief. You absolutely cannot say no,” Namjoon states with a sense of finality and you just can’t say no to the man.

Seeing the apartment door with no sock makes you so relieved. Finally, you can go home again.

Entering the apartment you drop all your stuff onto the counter then turn around to make a beeline to your room when you stop. Stopping in place by the visual of Jeongguk freshly showered, ruffling his hair with a towel. Tattoos on display, bare torso, grey sweatpants hanging low on his body. A literal wet dream.

“Oh hey, Yn,” Jeongguk looks at you, even has the decency to look apologetic. “Sorry about last night, I know it was your long day at uni. I honestly didn’t know I’d end up having someone over. Hopefully, you had somewhere to sleep?”

“Yeah, Jimin and Namjoon let me crash the night. Maybe text me if you’re kicking me out again,” you quip, still mildly distracted by his arms, his chest, his abs, and oh. Snap out of it Yn!

Jeongguk winces after, agreeing and apologising again. He goes to the kitchen and fills your mug with the freshly brewed coffee, you take it smelling the caffeine making you feel warm and cozy in this weather.

“Rather than camping out in your room, studying your life away,” Jeongguk steers you away from your door making you groan. “Come and have breakfast with me? We’ll be out for two hours max, I promise!”

Jeongguk’s looking at you with hope, his hands clasped together in a begging motion. You would say yes to him in a heartbeat, but he doesn’t need to know that.

“What is with everyone forcing me to take a break? Am I that much of a study-holic?”

“Huh? Who else is forcing you?” Jeongguk’s grabbing his hoodie, getting ready to leave even without your answer.

“Namjoon and Jimin, they’re taking me out on Saturday for, and I quote, ‘stress relief’.”

“Oh, that’s cool. I’ll be out having a few drinks with the boys, so maybe we’ll run into each other?” Jeongguk’s all prepared, the door open and everything. You can’t say no now.

“Considering Jimin is in his clubbing phase once again, I’m not sure pubs are in the equation.” You lock the door and watch as Jeongguk holds his hand out to hold. You intertwine your fingers and force your face to not heat up at the affection.

“Can you not flirt in front of my food, it’s making me lose my appetite.” You scrunch your nose watching Jeongguk smirk at the waitress making her giggle into her hand.

“What can I do? She gave me an extra plate of kimchi, I’ve gotta be nice.”

“That’s literally her job. Your kimchi was finished, she topped it up - that’s like the whole point of this place,” you scoff, playing with the egg roll in front of you. Saying that your plate of pickled radish has been sitting empty for the last 20 minutes.

Jeongguk looks over at you fiddling with your food, noticing your radish dish, he swaps it with his own full plate. He watches as your eyes widen and a grin spreads and you dig in. Cute.

“You’re right. The only girl I should be flirting with is the girl I’m on a date with.”

You almost choke on your food, “This isn’t a date.”

Jeongguk raises his eyebrow, a smile taking over his face as he watches you blush, “It could be, Yn, you never know.”

You drop the topic before your face heats up too much. You watch in disdain as the waitress comes over and changes Jeongguk’s empty radish dish with a full one.

But rather than engaging with her, Jeongguk reaches over the table and takes ahold of your hand, playing with your fingers. He spins the rings around complimenting them like he wasn’t the one that bought them.

You feel triumphant when the waitress glares at Jeongguk fondling your hands out in the open, heat creeping up her neck. Hah, he’s mine so back off, you think to yourself.

But that feeling falls when you watch Jeongguk place the napkin with her number into his pocket. You're leaving and he has his hand out in front of you. The feeling of his hand in yours doesn’t cover the ugly feeling in your tummy at the thought.

You both decide to walk along the park next to the restaurant. Jeongguk then pulls you close to his chest by an arm around your shoulder. Looking up at him you get a whiff of his cologne.

“You smell nice,” you point out.

“I’ll wear it more often if my favourite girl likes it.”

You can’t stop the blush from creeping up this time.

“Oh yeah, before I forget.”

You look up from the tea you’re making. You finally had some time to yourself and you’ve decided to work on assignments from your other classes.

“I’ve invited Aeri over tonight, I’ll be picking her up and taking her here. You’re all good with finding a place for a few hours? She won’t stay the night,” Jeongguk has enough shame to look sheepish as he asks you.

Considering it’s barely been a day since the last hook-up you find yourself almost objecting. But the hopeful look in his eyes shut that plan down.

“That’s fine, I’ll study in the library until then. But you better message me the moment she leaves, I want to sleep on my bed tonight.”

Grabbing your things from your room, you fill your bag with your essentials. Grabbing a muesli bar you head out, not forgetting to flip off Jeongguk’s turned back.

Walking to the library you let yourself sulk. You just spent a sweet morning with the guy, giving you hope, only to destroy it by inviting another girl to your apartment. It hurts. Thinking that even if you’re falling for Jeongugk his eyes will always be set on someone else.

This is the second time he’s inviting Aeri over, a rarity. Maybe seeing them together will become a common occurrence, holding hands, kissing, dating.

You can’t help the crushing feeling in your chest, falling in love with someone who will never be yours hurts beyond words. You can’t wait for the day you get over him.

You’d been working for approximately 20 minutes when you felt a tap on your shoulder. You look up taking your AirPods out, eyes meeting familiar brown orbs.

“Hey, Yn, is this seat taken?” the guy, Hoseok your brain supplies, asks.

“Oh hey Hoseok, yeah of course. It’s been a minute hey?”

Hoseok and you had been partners for a project last semester. You’d kept contact with him but since your year-long project began you both have gone a bit MIA. You felt bad, the guy was super sweet, and not to mention extremely attractive. You’re not going to lie, there was quite a bit of flirting between you two during the project. Of course, it never went anywhere considering you’d go back home to your insufferable roommate and remember why you haven’t had a relationship in more than 2 years.

“Yeah, missed you.” Hoseok gives you a smile. It slipped out so easy, you could feel your cheeks heating up. “Are you doing Prof Hara’s class? Because if you are, I could really use some help.”

Hoseok and you sit next to one another going through the lecture slides and tutorial sheets from your shared class. At first, it was serious, getting down to business, but soon it turned to banter and giggles. Hoseok was a very expressive guy, the way he would re-tell a story from the other week in such a dramatic way had you holding the table to not laugh aloud in the library.

But eventually, the laugh comes out after Hoseok makes a quip about how he needs to get feeling back into his ass since he’s been sitting down for so long.

You clasp a hand over your mouth and Hoseok suggests getting out of there before you embarrass yourself further. Obviously, you agree and pack your things quickly leaving, giving an apologetic look at the librarians.

“You want to get some dinner?” Hoseok says looking down at his watch.

You check the time on your phone and realise that it’s almost 8 pm. You also notice a notification from Jeongguk telling you it’s safe to come back home, and another asking where you were and what you wanted for dinner sent 5 minutes ago. You shoot him a message saying you’re getting takeout and if he wants some. Jeongguk replies immediately listing the food he wants.

“Sounds good. Would it be okay to head to mine after? We still got a bit of work to do and my roommate wants takeout too.”

Hoseok agrees, both of you heading towards the dinner place before going to your apartment.

You’re laughing at something Hoseok said when opening the door, you almost miss the confused look Jeongguk sends you. Who is this guy? That’s right, you almost forget you never introduced Hoseok before.

“Oh hey! I brought you your dinner,” you say lifting the plastic bag over your head before placing it on the counter. “Also, this is Hoseok. We were project partners last semester. We bumped into each other in the library and I said it was okay for him to join us for dinner. It is okay, right?” You’re hesitant and you don't know why. Of course, Jeongguk would be okay with it. He’d brought many of his friends and friends over before he doesn’t really have room to disagree.

“Um, yeah sure. Nice to meet you Hoseok.” Jeongguk half bows sending a forced smile to the other man.

“You too.” Hoseok notices how he’s not welcome here, but since you didn’t say anything he thinks he might just stay.

You all settle down to eat dinner, bringing out cutlery and plates. You were in between Jeongguk and Hoseok, feeling quite small between the two broad-shouldered men.

It’s a little awkward at first, no one really talks just eating. Then Hoseok says something funny and you’re laughing into your hand. You don’t notice the look Jeongguk gives the both of you, his tongue poking his cheek.

That’s how the night went, Hoseok re-telling funny stories of his friends, of you, and Jeongguk watching the two of you without so much as a smile on his face.

You start to recognise there’s a level of hostility coming from your roommate, so you decide this is where the night shall end.

“Hey, I’m actually getting quite tired. All good with you if we reschedule our study?” You look at Hoseok, and for a moment the man looks to your side eyes squinting at Jeongguk almost like he knows why he’s being kicked out early.

“Uh, yeah. It’s not super important anyways. But hey, thank you for having dinner with me. And you too Jeongguk.”

Jeongguk stays silent just glaring at the older male.

“You’re all good, I’ll message you about when we should meet up. Thanks again for dinner, have a good night!” You wave to Hosoek as he leaves, smiling at the man. Hoseok hesitates for a moment before he leans down and pecks you on the cheek.

“No worries, I’ll see you around.”

And then he was gone, leaving you with burning cheeks and a seething roommate.

“So you’re into him?”

“What?” You whirl around to face your now pissed off roommate.

“I asked if you were into him? You guys were practically flirting the entire time.”

You scoff, what a hypocrite, “Like you’ve never done that before?”

Jeongguk turns away his tongue poking his cheek. He was angry, why the hell was he angry?

“Just answer the question, Yn.”

You can’t believe the audacity of this man, “And what if I was? What’s it to you?”

Jeongguk realises you’re getting upset with him so he calms himself down. He doesn’t want to fight with you.

“Nothing. It doesn’t matter. I’m sorry for lashing out, that wasn’t cool. I’m not sure what took over me just then,” Jeongguk apologised, scratching the back of his head.

You could tell he was being genuine so you decide to drop it. You don’t want to fight right now, “How about a movie? You can pick.”

Jeongguk nods, grabbing your hand and pulling you down to his side on the couch. He puts on some marvel flick and pulls you close, cuddling you into him. The fight moments ago was forgotten.

You could hear Jeongguk out in the living room putting his shoes on. You put a gloss over your lips hoping you can get to the club without having all your hair sticking to it.

“Yn, you ready yet? Should I call the taxi?”Jeongguk yells out, he’d just finished getting ready.

At the sound of heels on the wood floor, he turns around and has to take a moment. Because holy shit, you look stunning. You’re in a tiny long-sleeved black dress with cuts on your chest, shoulders and waist showing so much skin yet not enough. You’ve got your hair down curled slighting looking so soft.

“Holy shit.”

“What? Is it too much? It’s too much, isn’t it? I haven’t gone out in ages but I bought this dress a while ago and-”

Jeongguk cuts off your rambling immediately shaking his head, “No, you look gorgeous. Hot as hell. Who’re you going out with again?”

You blush and look down at your outfit, “Just Jimin and Namjoon.”

“No Hoseok?”

You tilt your head, of course, no Hoseok, what sort of question is that? “Um, no, didn’t even ask him. Why?”

Jeongguk just fiddles with the bottom of his flannel. The motion makes you aware of how sexy Jeongguk is looking tonight. He’s got ripped light blue jeans, a plain black top with a layer of flannel and a leather jacket, and to top it off he’s got a black bucket hat making him look downright god-like.

“No reason, just a random question.”

You nod suspiciously not buying it but also not knowing what else you were supposed to say to that.

“Well, I’ve called the taxi we should head down to catch it. I’ve let them know to drop you first then me.”

“But you’re so much closer?” You feel bad for Jeongguk having to wait longer to see his friends when he’s already a bit late as it is.

“I don’t care, just want to know you got to Jimin and Namjoon’s safely.”

You thank him for the sweet gesture and take his hand as he helps you down the stairs. The stupid elevator still isn’t fixed.

After having a few drinks at Jimin and Namjoon’s place you immediately call another taxi to take you to a club. There’s a strip in Itaewon that you all agree is the best.

Entering the club, you all head towards the bar counter getting a few more drinks since you’d all sobered up a bit in the taxi.

“Okay now that I can’t feel my lips, it’s time to dance!” Jimin drags you both with him to the dance floor after sculling all two of his drinks he bought.

You’re dancing, throwing your head back and enjoying the feeling of alcohol making you not care for the sweaty bodies bumping into you. You watch as Jimin and Namjoon are dancing, Jimin grinding back on his boyfriend who seems to be enjoying it - a bit too much, you think to yourself.

In the middle of ‘Be The One’, you feel hands at your hips. You turn around to face the guy only to realise it's Hoseok. You gasp and launch yourself at him. Yelling in his ear a very drunk, "Hi!"

You introduce Hoseok to the boyfriends and they all decide to dance together. Jimin then drags Namjoon to the bar for more drinks, leaving you and Hoseok to dance alone.

Jeongguk and his friends decide to sit at a booth of their go-to bar, grabbing a few drinks and settling in. They’re all talking about the night before, how Seokjin ditched them to flirt with the bartender and how Yoongi finally left with a guy.

He finds himself scrolling through his phone, for no particular reason. He then lands on Jimin’s story and clicks on it.

The first video is of Jimin lining up 4 shots and waving over someone behind him. Then Yn enters the frame, he finds himself smiling down at you. It promptly drops when he sees Hoseok right next to you, his hand on your waist as you all take the shot.

You said you weren’t going out with him… did you lie to me?

The next story is a video of Namjoon and Hoseok dancing, smiling and laughing at each other, captioned ‘Glad I bumped into the dance team captain!! He’s showing Joonie how to body roll hahaha’, Jeongguk feels sort of relieved knowing that you didn’t lie to him. It was just a coincidence that you bumped into the guy.

He clicks on, the story being of the two boyfriends dancing, but Jeongguk notices the two figures in the background leaving. You were taking Hoseok’s hand in yours and dragging him somewhere off frame.

He can feel how hard he’s clenching his jaw, and as he clicks the last picture on Jimin’s story which is captioned ‘Been ditched for dick, understandable’, he can’t help but get angry.

Jeongguk pockets his phone and stands up, he makes up an excuse for leaving. The boys argue with him for a bit before he just shakes his head and leaves. He’ll get a lot of shit for it later, but he doesn’t care.

Before he knows it, Jeongguk’s walking up the stair of his apartment building, trying to calm himself down. He shouldn’t be this upset, it’s not like you two are in a relationship - hell, it’d be hypocritical of him to get this angry when he’s kicked Yn out multiple times to do the same thing.

But the moment his eyes land on the all too familiar sock handing on the doorknob he says fuck it to keeping calm. Without even thinking he’s unlocking the door and letting himself in.

At first, it was quiet, he couldn’t hear any sound besides his heavy breathing. But then he hears it, a moan tearing through the silence. And then another, and another. He was so mad but he didn’t want to hear any more, so he turns to leave when, “Fuck, Jeongguk, please…”

Did he just hear that right? Did you just call out his name while having sex with Hoseok?!

Jeongguk then notices only your heels next to the front door, he gulps and makes his way to your room. He knows this is a massive breach of privacy, you can be mad at him if you want but he needs to know what’s happening.

The moans only get louder and his name more breathless.

He grabs the doorknob and turns it, peeking through the gap he made. His hand freezes and his stomach drops. Because there you are, dress pulled up and over your ass, which is in the air, pumping a purple dildo deeply into yourself.

Your face is buried into your elbow so you don’t notice the intrusion, you don’t see Jeongguk push the door open even more. You don’t see his hand palming his crotch as he takes you in.

“Fuck, Yn… what do you do to me?”

Hearing that, you turn around taking the dildo out and grabbing a pillow to cover yourself, “Jeongguk? What the fuck?! When did you even get home? How long have you been there?”

Jeongguk smirks, you can’t help the feeling it brings between your legs, “Long enough to hear you moaning my name. If you wanted me so badly you should’ve just said so. You know I’d do anything for you.”

You can’t believe this is happening. Jeongguk just saw you at your most vulnerable and now knows you think about him while doing it, “This is so embarrassing.”

“On the contrary, this is insanely hot. If you want me to I’d like to finish you off myself, can I?”

Jeongguk looks down at you, smirking. You could never say no to those eyes, they’re sincere and when you look down you notice him straining against his jeans. You nod your head putting the pillow away and letting Jeongguk drag you closer by the ankles.

“Good, now get on your knees and kiss me.”

You don’t have to be asked twice, clambering up and holding the lapels of Jeongguk’s leather jacket pulling the man into a dizzying kiss.

You begin to pull his jacket off him. Same for his flannel, then your hands go to his belt buckle pulling his pants down. You separate for a moment to help take his shirt off, leaving him in only his boxers, looking like an absolute wet dream. You cup him and begin palming at his crotch. You revel in seeing Jeongguk toss his head back groaning.

“Can I suck you off, please?”

Jeongguk’s finger pulls down your bottom lip, tilting his head and taking in your desperation. “No, another time. If my dick is in your mouth right now I won’t last, and I want to cum in you so badly you have no idea.”

You notice the condom sitting on the side of the bed, Jeongguk having grabbed it before taking his pants off. You pout knowing that even if you’re on birth control, why he can’t fuck you raw. Your chest feels heavy thinking of all the other people he’s touched.

But the moment Jeongguk leans down to kiss you so gently, his hands cupping your face and pulling you close, the feeling leaves. It doesn’t matter about the rest because right now you have him.

You lay down as Jeongguk lowers himself down while kissing you. Your hands are grabbing at his hair, his shoulders and his back. He feels so strong on top of you like he could manhandle you any way he wants.

Jeongguk kisses down your neck, marking your collarbone. You moan when his tongue flicks your nipple. One hand massages your other breast as he sucks, licks, and bites your nipple before moving on to the other to do the exact same. His mouth is driving you crazy, you’re squirming under his solid hold.

Jeongguk kisses down your tummy, reaching your navel. He looks up at you asking if he can go further, you can only nod and pull his face closer to your core.

His hands pull your legs up, he kisses your inner thighs making you shiver in anticipation. Your moan loudly when he licks a stripe from your hole to your clit, licking at the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Jeongguk’s sucking at your clit, his tongue lapping up at your cum. He spreads your folds and licks at you. Everything feels amazing, and you can’t help but force his face down further into you.

His fingers reach up to your mouth and he watches, still lapping up your pussy, as the digits enter and your tongue slicks them up. He moans into your core as you make his fingers wet. Sliding them down your torso he gently slides them into your hole, hissing when he notices you’re still tight even after having a toy in you.

“Fuck you’re so wet. All for me, huh? Such a good girl, prepping yourself for me, can’t wait to fill you up.”

You moan unabashedly at Jeongguk’s words, begging for him to get in you. For once the man listens. Grabbing the condom and tearing it. His eyes don’t leave you only biting his lip as you play with your breasts watching him.

Jeongguk pushes his dick down using his thumb to place the tip at your entrance. He pushes it in, leaning down to capture your lips in a kiss while sliding the rest of him in. You moan into his mouth once he bottoms out.

You feel so full. So full of Jeongguk. He kisses and nips at your neck while he slowly starts moving in and out of you. The pace driving you crazy, but you know he’s giving you time to adjust - or even back out.

You pull Jeongguk close, your legs holding him at the waist. You look into his eyes and whisper, “Faster please.”

Jeongguk obeys and starts going faster, his eyes never leave yours. This is far more intimate than he’s ever been. Usually having them in doggy with their face down so he can imagine his pretty roommate instead. His breaths coming out harsher as his thrusts get deeper and a bit rougher.

“Fuck Jeongguk! Fuck, fuck, fuck, feels so good.”

“Yeah? Fuck baby you’re so wet.”

He grabs your legs and pulls them to your chest, giving you one last kiss before pulling himself up sliding in at a better angle. He has one hand pushing your legs closer together and the other squeezing at your breasts.

Fuck, he thinks, why haven’t I done this sooner?

Jeongguk then pulls your legs down and around him, pulling you up. You’re sitting in Jeongguk’s lap as you both adjust to the new position.

This position allows Jeongguk to watch you ride him and kiss you. So, he does just that. You bounce on his dick moaning into his mouth. He can feel you getting closer, your thighs tensing, your grip on the back of his neck bruising.

“You’re close huh? Huh, baby? You gonna cum for me?” Jeongguk smirks as he watches you nod biting your lip. You’re so fucking sexy.

He grabs your hips and begins bouncing you, watching your beautiful tits bounce and how loudly you moan at his actions. He watches you reach down between them to play at your clit. He groans unable to look away.

You moan a hand grabbing onto Jeongguk’s shoulders for support. You can feel yourself getting close.

Jeongguk speeds up and before you know it your cumming, your orgasm hitting so hard your legs shake around him. Your nails scratch at his shoulders, head falling forward to moan into Jeongguk’s neck as he continues to bounce you on his dick.

“Jeongguk! Ah, yes fuck please keep going!”

“Fuck baby, you’re gonna make me cum…!”

You watch as Jeongguk cums, your wrecked voice and the feeling of you clenching around him being too much. His mouth is open and his eyes scrunched closed.

He continues to move you as he rides out his high. Holding you securely down once he gets too sensitive.

You both just hold each other for a moment, peppering each other with soft kisses and gentle touches. It’s so intimate your heart squeezes.

Jeongguk lies you down to grab a wet towel to clean you both up. He tosses it on the ground and lies down next to you pulling you close and kissing you deeply.

“You have no idea how long I’ve wanted this.”

You giggle into Jeongguk’s chest kissing him there. You can’t believe this just happened. You just had sex. With Jeongguk. How did you get here?

Looking up at him, you smile softly bringing him closer, “You gonna be here in the morning?”

“Why would I leave when I finally got you?”

a/n: lmk your thoughts by sending me an ask i would love it vvv much :DD

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ggukkieland · 3 years

Text

📕BTS Fic Reads - 2021 Aug Pt. 1

Thank you dear authors whose stories have entertained me, made me cry when I needed to, and gave me that giddy feeling to add sweetness to my fic reading life.

If you stumbled upon this list and decided to give the fics a try, please reblog author’s fics and share these stories too =).

Note: if link doesn’t work, click on author and go to their masterlist

🥕 Ongoing - most recent chapter [as of date this list was posted] 🥕 Completed - completed one shots | series (Pt 2) 🥕 S - smut | F - fluff | A - angst

🥕 [Ongoing Series]

↬ Namjoon

Curious Creatures @mikrokaos - series [4/?] | 18.5k+ | Fantasy AU, Dragon!Namjoon, Soulmate AU | f, a, eventual s

Fragmented Glass @mochismilesbrighterthansun - series [7/?] | 42.2k+ | Enemies to Lovers, Arranged Marriage | a, s, f - 02 03 04 05 06 07

Hyde @avveh - series [1/?] | 8.8k+ | Enemies to Lovers, slow burn, Lawyer AU, courtroom drama, interesting character changes (from Namjoon 👀, like jekyll and hyde) | a, eventual s

Lavender Skies (a re-write) @jamaisjoons - series [2/?] | 20.3k+ | Single Dad AU, Marine Veterinarian!OC, Domestic AU, originally Intro:Her | f, a, s

↬ Seokjin

Bitten @bloomsuga - smau | vampire seokjin x historian reader, part of the Spookiverse, humor | f, a, s?

Dishonesty - Part 1: Pray You Catch Me @00bamc - series [5/?] | 14k+ | infidelity au, husband au | a, s

↬ Yoongi

Back Burner @yoonpobs - series [3/?] | 9.6k+ | friends to lovers, childhood friends, sister’s best friend!yoongi, sibling rivalry of some sort, enemies to lovers? | s, f

Need to Know @minyfic - series [5//?] | 16.9k+ | Sugar Daddy AU, CEO AU, soft dom!yoongi, age gap | s, f, a

No Rebounds @joheunsaram - drabble series [2/?] | 2k+ | marriage au, husband au, marriage on the rocks type of scenario | a, f

Westfield Apartments @gamerwoo - series [4/?] | 9.4k+ | mystery, horror, ghost au, Yoongi is a tenant, mystery surrounding the fifth floor | a

↬ Hoseok

First of Many @jkiddingjeon - series [1/?] | 2.8k+ | brother’s bestfriend au, fwb au, forbidden love |

Outlaw @chemicalpink - series [intro/?] | 1.2k+ | sci-fi, enemies to lovers, spy au | f, a, eventual s

Poison Ivy @jinseunie - two shot [1/2] | 12k+ | choreographer!hoseok x dancer!reader, slow burn, OC final year at SOPA | f, a, eventual s

↬ Jimin

Barracuda @vantezza - series [2/9] | 9.6k+ | fuckboy au, bad boy au, fwb au, eventual established relationship | s, a, f?

The Ties That Bind Us Still @pjmaparty - series [3/?] | 25.2k+ | CEO!Jimin, Husband turned Exes AU, unplanned pregnancy, themes of infidelity | a, f

↬ Taehyung

A Fated Life @kooktrash - series [1/?] | wc: ?? | Historical Fantasy AU, Arranged Marriage, Corpse Bride Victor Van Dort meets Mr Darcy meets Alice in Wonderland | future s

Colours @lovelytaes-blog - series [2/?] | 33.8k+ | Single Dad AU, Artist!Reader, strangers to lovers, met Taehyung’s daughter at the park | a, s, f

Oh, Alpha Mine @sunshyngal - series [1/?] | 900wc+ | a/b/o dynamics, childhood enemies, brother’s best friend au, reporter!oc, homicide detective!taehyung, crime au, mystery | a, s

Rotten Angelcake @inkedtae - series [3/?] | 28.4k+ | CEO AU, Curvy!Reader, Sugar Daddy AU (or according to author Taeddy 😉), slow burn, strangers to lovers | s, f, a

Strawberry and Cigarettes @knpjpr - smau | stoner!taehyung x rich girl!reader, enemies to lovers, social divide | a, f

When Love is Enough @selfproducingfanfictionauthor - drabble series [3/?] | 1.3k+ | idol!taehyung, unplanned pregnancy, career vs love type of scenario | a, f (no masterpost so please check author’s masterlist for the links to other chapters)

↬ Jungkook

Addicted to U @ughcore - one shot + ongoing series [5/?] | 27k+ | Enemies to Lovers, eventually Established Relationship (a bit of secret relationship at first) | s, f, a

A Lover’s Kiss @hueseok - series [11/16] | 36.4k+ | fwb au, idiots to lovers, college au, pining, swimmer!jungkook, editor-in-chief!reader | s, f, a

Amaranth @kookieswan - series [1/?] + blurbs [3/?] | 3.8k+ | Bestfriend AU, Royalty AU | f

An Abundance of Luck & a Sprinkle of Fate @borathae - series [3/?] | 18k+ | spin-off to I Hate You, I Love You (KTH), CEO AU, Sex Worker AU, Hurt/Comfort, strangers to lovers, BDSM | a, s

Bella Sposa @makeawish2020 - drabble series [6/?] | 6-8k? | secret agent au, assassin au, enemies to lovers, secret identity, mystery | a

Burning Love @bangtanficsforyou - series [prologue/?] | 787 wc | Exes AU, CEO AU, OC’s company bought by Jungkook (ex turned boss) | f, a, s (?)

City of Scales @kookdiaries - two shot [1/2] | 6.4k+ | Mermaid AU, Royalty AU | a, s

Euphoria @lovelytaes-blog - drabble series [2/?] | 7.2k+ | established relationship, husband au, they were high school sweethearts | s, f

Love Ain’t a Business @bangtanhome - series [1/?] | 9.2k+ | best friend’s brother au, enemies to lovers, ex-fwb au, fake dating (with the best friend) | s, f, a

Love Fool @citrustan - ongoing [2/4] + drabbles [1/?] | 5.5k+ | boyfriend!jungkook, some issue with boyfriend’s best friend!Yuna | a, s, f

Mean Girls @kookluv - drabble series [4/?] | 6.6k+ | shy!jungkook, popular!oc, mean!oc, college au | f, a

One Beep @peachiekoo - series [1/?] | 2k+ | enemies to lovers, love alarm au, their parents’ divorce is related (so JK hates her/her family) | a, eventual f

Paradise @sunshinerainbowsbts - series [1/?] | 6.1k+ | Neighbor AU, Stripper!Jungkook, secret identity, slow burn | s

Queen of Ice @readyplayerhobi - drabble series [3/?] | 5.1k+ | Bodyguard AU, Royalty AU, Fantasy (Ice Magic User!OC x Water Magic!Jungkook) | f, a

Shadows of Euphoria @cinnabun-faerie - series [5/?] | 9.5k+ | Demon!Jungkook, feat. ???!Taehyung, Soulmate AU, historical(? takes place in ancient Greece) | f, a

Sheltered Hearts @jeonfrvr - series [6/?] | 11.5k+ | fuckboy au, college au, strangers to lovers (Jungkook found OC eating cereal on kitchen floor at 3 am), brother’s best friend too (taehyung) | f, eventual s

Take All My Firsts @sunshyngal - drabble series [1/?] | 1.5k+ | CEO AU, secretary!OC, shy awkward anti-social jungkook | f (please this is so hilarious 😂)

The Art of… @venusiangguk - series [4/?] + drabbles [3/?] | 50.3k+ | single dad au, dilf!jungkook, store clerk!oc, fwb au, strangers to lovers | s, a, f (originally part of my Feb 2021 Pt 2 reading list but the story got expanded yay! Now part of ongoing reads)

The Devil’s Own @sunshyngal - series [2/?] | 15.9k+ | Mafia AU, Revenge AU, Crime AU, check tags for triggering themes! (non-con, toxic behavior, etc. Jungkook isn’t meant to be cute here) | s, a

With a Sense of Innocence @borathae - series [3/?] | 19k+ | Friends to Lovers, Idiots to Lovers, Mutual Pining, College AU, Neighbors AU, eventual established relationship | f, s *though ongoing, can be considered

↬ OT7

Business @btssmutgalore - series [4/?] | 54.8k+ | Rich OC, Executive!OC, noona? (not much age gap), taekook looking for investor and got more business *wink, wink* | s 🌷 (so this is a classic and I am so thrilled it got recently updated 😍)

Ethereal @purpleyoonn - series [prologue/?] | wc:? (coming soon but the premise is so intriguing)| Dragon AU, Fantasy, Mafia AU, Poly AU | s 🌷

🥕 [Completed Fics/Series]

📕BTS Fic Reads - 2021 Aug Pt. 2

posted: 2021 Sep 03

link to other reading lists

other fic rec lists (by theme)

I love to read so feel free to message me about fics! 🌷

#ggukkiereadinglist #bts fanfic #bts x reader #bts smut #namjoon smut #seokjin smut #yoongi smut #hoseok smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut #jungkook smut #jungkook x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader #hoseok x reader #yoongi x reader #seokjin x reader #namjoon x reader #bts fic recs

706 notes · View notes

1kook · 3 years

Text

new parent syndrome

— kim namjoon x (f) reader

SUMMARY You love Namjoon, honest. But you love your daughter Hyejoo even more— it’s not a controversial sentiment when you know he’s the same way! —and going back to a regular adult life sans kids absolutely sucks. (Or so you thought.) WARNINGS dilf!joon, dreamy husband joon, loving parents au, jimin is also a dad, bathtub sexy times, exhibitionism 😳 kinda sorta, tiny praise kink, joon calls her wifey TT, fingering, cunninglingus, doggy style, it’s kinda cheesy n romantic /.\, unprotected sex, …. impreg kink RATINGS m (18+) WC 9.5k

NOTES writing parent fics is harder than i thought :/ i had this idea last week n was like yes, lets write this fic that absolutely no one asked for... except me! <3 so here we are, fantasizing about dreamy dad joon.... as always i have to thank rumu ( @kigurumu ) who is kind enough to edit these n b like that don't make no sense -_- anyway lemme know what u think !! enjoy !!

No matter how hard you try, the letter f refuses to fit itself into Hyejoo’s phonemic understanding. She’s a growing toddler so it’s only normal that there are sounds she still can’t pronounce, words she doesn’t quite get. But her inability to say food or family or friends, which are undoubtedly the three most important things in her three year-old world right now, is definitely a setback you didn’t see coming.

Your worrywart husband has taken matters into his own hands, using the power of Google and about twelve parenting books to create an extensive, one-hour-a-day, mini lesson to try and increase her pronunciation skills. Of course, Hyejoo already attends daycare in the mornings while you and Namjoon are off at work, and gets sufficient learning done there. So she can’t exactly sit through Joon’s lectures, no matter how pretty he tries to decorate her flashcards. She’s still tiny— she’s still your baby, and you want her to enjoy the last of her daycare years before you’re forced to submit her to the worst twelve years of her life (also known as compulsory education).

But as you’ve mentioned before, Namjoon doesn’t quite feel the same way.

“She can’t sound out the letter,” he mopes in bed that night. He’s laying down beside you, face smushed against your thigh. The lamp on your side of the bed is the only thing on, casting a faint golden hue on his cheeks.

This conversation has occurred a variety of times these past few weeks, and you’ve just about ran out of every comforting reassurance possible. You settle on stroking a hand through his hair. There are emails to respond to and clients to check in with, but there’s also a huffy husband in bed beside you who quite pitifully crawls up into your arms.

It’s with his face between your boobs that he speaks again. “What if she’s getting made fun of at school? Or her teachers think she’s dumb?” You roll your eyes. “My baby is not dumb, __,” he says, as if you don’t know. “Her IQ came back above average when I took her to the development specialist that one time, remember?” You have half the mind to tell him an IQ test on a three year old isn’t exactly valid, but there’s already enough stacked on his plate. Finding out he wasted a hundred bucks for an invalid test would just be the cherry on top of all his worries.

Water clings to the very tips of his hair, remnants of his bath with Hyejoo. Namjoon is getting older now, nothing like the dashing grad student you had met what feels like a lifetime ago. There’s bags under his eyes, bags that surpass any all-nighter-pulling college student’s, induced by none other than the sheer power of becoming a parent. And still, he retains his beauty, looks like a doll with his skin so dewy from his skincare routine, lips puffy and red and kissable.

He looks up, and you take the opportunity to place a kiss on his lips, his familiar scent making you melt into his arms. When he pulls away, there’s still a subtle furrow between his brows.

“Hyejoo is fine,” you reassure him, carding his brown hair out of his face. He leans into the touch, eyes falling shut. “Our girl is the smartest three year-old out there,” you huff, feeling the slightest bit annoyed that he could even insinuate otherwise. “And if she was having problems at school, you know I would be the first one in there, fighting all the other moms.”

Namjoon relents, face falling back into its haven between your tits. “Okay,” he mumbles, muffled from the way his plush lips drag against the soft skin over your sternum.

The subject of Namjoon’s worries is in the other room sound asleep, not the least bit concerned with measly letters and sounds. It’s really only Namjoon who is, his stack of letter flashcards glaring at you from on top of the dresser. “Your mother hen is showing,” you tease as he slips beneath the covers, leaning over you to flick off your lamp. Just like everything else in your house, his t-shirt smells like him. It’s a natural, woodsy scent that floods your nostrils and makes your toes curl when he comes so close.

Namjoon snorts as he settles beside you, beefy arm pillowing your head as he pulls you close. “I’m not a mother hen,” he says, hand on your waist, the tantalizing expanse of his neck before your eyes. “I’m the rooster— the cock,” he snickers, and you reward his terrible attempt at a joke with a pinch to his side that has him retreating to the other end of the bed.

Hyejoo’s best friend in the entire world— or, as she says, her best pren in the entire world —is none other than Park Yerin from daycare. As the universe would have it, Park Yerin is also the one and only daughter of your college philosophy seat neighbor, Park Jimin.

Crossing paths with him later down the road was not something you could ever anticipate, especially when you and Jimin were never that close in college to begin with. It was the only class you had with him in all four years, one where you had quietly acknowledged his charisma and occasionally shared homework answers, before never speaking to him again. You could have greeted him on campus, as you often crossed paths. But Park Jimin was a walking friendship magnet who seemed to bring with him a parade of followers everywhere he went, and approaching him required three layers of strategic planning if you wanted to catch him alone.

So bumping into him at the entrance of Hyejoo’s daycare six years later comes as a bit of a shock. You had never pegged him as the type to settle down so quickly— you don’t mean to label him, but there were certain college stereotypes that he fit like a glove —but there he was, carrying the tiny love of his life who’s currently dressed in a bright pink Minnie Mouse dress.

Unsurprisingly, just like her father, Park Yerin has the same enthralling personality that makes everyone in the three to four year-old daycare class want to be her friend, and your sweet little Hyejoo is not exempt.

Long story short, out of all the kids at Sunny Side Daycare, Yerin is Hyejoo’s favorite, and Hyejoo is Yerin’s favorite.

So now it’s been a little over a year since the two girls have established their friendship, which means it’s been a little over a year of acquainting yourself with Jimin again. He’s a house husband, something you never expected, and he loves his daughter like no other. Some afternoons after daycare are spent with Jimin and Yerin at the nearest coffee shop, watching the girls haphazardly scribble over every piece of paper they can get their hands on while the two of you catch up.

Overall, you’re happy Hyejoo can have a friend like Yerin, and secretly, you're also happy you can finally befriend a fellow parent as nice and put together as Jimin. On top of that, Namjoon’s liked him on the few occasions he’s met him; the two have even gone out for drinks.

However, befriending Jimin and Yerin comes at a cost, and that cost is seeing your little girl grow up.

It’s your turn to mope.

“Yerin asked her to sleepover,” you groan, sadly patting in your skincare routine the next night. Namjoon is somewhere behind you, his naked back glaring at you through the reflection of your vanity mirror. He’s so broad and big, sleep shorts clinging to his waist as he lotions up his body post-shower. There’s a thin gold chain around his neck that glints everytime he moves around, biceps flexing and bulging in plain view until he finally slips his shirt on. There was a time in your life where his back could not go more than two days unscathed, your rabid (read: horny) claw marks painting rosy trails down his spine. These days, you can barely remember the last time he’s held your hand.

“Who?” he asks once he’s settled beneath the covers with whatever book he’s reading now and his thick-rimmed reading glasses.

“Who else,” you say, tugging your night robe closer to your chest as if it’ll prevent your heart from breaking anymore than it already was. “Hyejoo’s first sleepover,” you sigh.

You take it harder than you imagined. In the back of your mind, you’ve always known your little girl was growing up— hello, you were literally watching her grow more and more inches every single day —but you had convinced yourself she would stay your baby for a little while longer. As much as you wanted her to see and learn about the world, you selfishly wanted to keep her home too. She was your baby, your only one at that.

At least Namjoon feels the same way. “Absolutely not,” he squawks, abruptly slamming his book shut. He’s usually really meticulous about lining up his fancy bookmark right on the line he left off on, so his sudden carelessness tells you all you need to know about how he feels.

You sit down beside him, hand over his. “It’s Yerin’s birthday,” you inform him in what you hope is a comforting tone; unbeknownst to him, you’re trying to reassure yourself as well. “And Jimin said he and his wife are gonna be there the whole night.” You trust Jimin, you really do. If there’s anyone who’s more in love with their kid than you and Namjoon, it’s Jimin. He would never let anything happen to his Yerin, and by extension, he would never let anything happen to your Hyejoo. He’s a good dad.

Namjoon rubs at his eyes. In the span of two minutes, he’s aged about five years. “No,” he sighs softly, squeezing your hand tightly. “Once she starts going to sleepovers she’ll start wearing makeup and getting into relationships and having her heart broken—“

A kiss is enough to silence him when he gets like this, his warm breath fanning across your bottom lip when you pull away. “She just wants to wear tutus and sing Baby Shark right now,” you murmur, hand creeping up over his chest. His heart is beating fast as hell beneath his t-shirt, feels like it’ll burst straight out of his chest if you don’t calm him down.

He’s the bigger worrier out of the two of you, has a classic case of paranoid parent syndrome.

It’s no secret that Namjoon has a big brain; he’s an educated man with a respectable job. For every problem he encounters, he can procure a variety of solutions with different approaches. He’s always prepared and part of you thinks he’s a huge reason you managed to survive those first few weeks as a mom. Unlike you, who had attended a whopping two mommy classes in preparation for your upcoming child, Namjoon had studied up on parenting. A lot. He had read books and reviewed scientific studies, had learned about development on the chemistry level and the social level, did all he could until he was confident in his own dad abilities.

But, for every solution Namjoon can find, there are always twenty-eight other factors to worry about.

“What if she has an allergic reaction and Jimin doesn’t know what to do,” he pales, death grip on your hand. His matching wedding band digs into your skin and you have to wrestle his hand away before he accidentally breaks your finger. He nearly broke your neck once when you were in college, had almost sent you to the ER mid-thrust because he had underestimated his own strength while trying to choke you.

“Hyejoo doesn’t have any allergies,” you remind him, giving up on your awkward half-seated position as you clamber over him. His thighs are full beneath you, tense up as you move over him and he manhandles you into his chest.

He’s not done. “What if she asks Jimin for a fizzy drink and he can’t understand her?” His eyes are owlish beneath his glasses, covered in what you can only describe as a visible sheen of absolute terror. “What if he thinks she’s saying ‘pissy’ not ‘fizzy,’ __— what then?” It’s amazing, really, how a man who graduated cum laude can hypothesize this many disasters pertaining to a four year-old’s sleepover.

In the other room, Hyejoo calls for you, so you gladly take the opportunity to remove yourself from Namjoon and his spiraling thoughts. “Look,” you say, tightening the sash of your robe as you get back up. “I’m gonna go tell her that she can go to Yerin’s sleepover tomorrow,” you tell him, giving him exactly three seconds to groan dramatically, before continuing, “and you figure out how to turn that big brain off by the time I come back.”

Luckily, the cause of Hyejoo’s sudden wake up is a tiny bug bite she got from playing outside that just won’t stop itching. “Mommy, it hurts,” she whines, digging her nails into the tiny red mark by her knee.

“Uh huh, lemme see,” you order, turning on her bedside lamp to illuminate the space. Her room is the prettiest shade of yellow, fitting for a ball of sunshine such as herself. “Were you playing by the flowerbeds?” You ask, running a finger over the mark a little too weird looking to simply be another mosquito bite.

She knows she’s not supposed to play near the flowers— the bugs like her a little too much. It’s with a hesitant little nod that she confesses to it. You give her a pointed look. “You’re not supposed to play too close to the flowers,” you remind her, a tiny scolding for now.

With a sniffle she responds, “not by the plowers.”

A little bit of anti-itch cream has her settling, and by the time you return to your bedroom, Namjoon is out cold.

“How old is Yerin turning?” Namjoon asks her at the door, heartbreak clearly painting his features as you help Hyejoo into her shoes.

“Pour,” she beams, her tiny hand held up to show four stubby fingers. She has Namjoon’s pretty smile, an honest look in her eyes that makes you want to put her in your pocket and never let her go. Alas, Yerin’s sleepover party starts at five and Hyejoo has been trying to leave since noon.

“Pour,” Namjoon repeats, shooting you a pointed look as if to say see. He had fought the decision up until the end, had even tried to tactically convince your daughter to stay home by getting a head start on preparing her favorite food. And well. She said no. So now the two of you are stuck having dinosaur chicken nuggets for dinner without her.

She’s got her little travel bag on now, tiny feet stuffed into her ladybug rain boots because it had rained last night and she’s awfully addicted to jumping in muddy puddles. She’s absolutely adorable, your little girl, and you think Namjoon might’ve let out a tiny sob earlier. (Or maybe it was you.)

Namjoon joins you at the front door. “Be good,” he warns her. His eyes are suspiciously wet, but you don’t say anything because yours are too. You’re both crouched in front of her, her big eyes glancing back and forth between the two of you without a care in the world. Mixing your self-assured personality with Namjoon’s (mostly) composed attitude was quite possibly the worst genetic crossover to ever happen; Hyejoo doesn’t even seem remotely bothered by the fact she’s spending her first night away from home. Meanwhile, you and Namjoon are on the verge of a joint breakdown.

Anyway, Namjoon gives in first. “Love you forever, princess,” he tells her, their ritual expression, and kisses her forehead.

She accepts it and then, in an unexpected turn of events, surges forward to hug him around the neck. “Love you pporever, daddy,” she repeats, and your heart feels so painfully full at the sight, like you just unlocked a new life achievement from seeing your daughter and her father be so cute together. You don’t get to coo at them for long, because then she’s giving you a warm hug as well, the same phrase muttered in your ear.

It’s the hardest thing about parenting.

Seeing your kid slowly broaden their horizons, meeting new people and learning new things. Leaving home. (Granted, she’ll be back by tomorrow afternoon but even that feels like an eternity away to the dramatic parents you and Namjoon have become.) The second goodbye on Jimin’s doorstep isn’t any easier, especially when Hyejoo tugs on your arm and asks you to “say night to daddy please” for her, and your heart breaks just a little more. Jimin flashes you an understanding smile but all you want to do is punch him in the nose for ever telling Yerin what a sleepover is.

You get home and Namjoon is in a calmer state by now, some old sitcom he hates playing on the TV. Usually, this time of day is reserved for his daily phonemic lessons with Hyejoo, drilling the f sound into her tiny brain, so you guess this is his preferred method of coping in its place: torturing himself with some boring television show.

“Hey,” he says, and you crawl into his lap with a sad sniffle. “Shh,” he soothes, hand on the back of your head as he guides you into his chest. You’re actually crying now, which is super embarrassing in itself considering you scolded Namjoon for this exact behavior last night. He doesn’t mention it as he pats your back, stupid sitcom paused in favor of soothing you with the deep vibrations of his voice. “Hye’s gonna be back tomorrow, baby.”

“I want her back now,” you huff, vaguely aware of how childish and silly you sound. The tables have turned, and you find yourself wishing you had the same emotional fortitude as Namjoon now. All those parenting books have clearly amounted for something. Somehow, you will the feeling back into your body and pull away from his chest. You must look a mess because he doesn’t even try to hide the amusement on his face. “This is the worst day of my life.”

Namjoon laughs, deep and hearty, with his eyes squeezing shut from the force. “Come on, wifey, those chicken nuggets aren’t gonna eat themselves.”

It’s quite possibly the most boring evening you’ve had in years.

(The internet calls it new parent syndrome, where you’re so undeniably in love with your first child and the parenting experience that the rest of the world is put on pause.)

You love Namjoon, honest. But you love your daughter Hyejoo even more— it’s not a controversial sentiment when you know he’s the same way! —and going back to a regular adult life sans kids absolutely sucks. (Or so you thought.)

Kids are prone to asking weirdly philosophical questions, a fact that had greatly delighted you when Hyejoo first started speaking. Who am I? What’s money? Why not? It could get annoying sometimes, trying to answer all of Hyejoo’s curiosities. But as you begin on your second batch of dinosaur chicken nuggets, all you can think about is how Jimin gets to answer them tonight.

Anyway, seven rolls around and you and Namjoon are bored. You can only watch so many episodes of Seinfield before you get tired of feigning interest, so you retire from the living room for the night. “I’m gonna take a bath,” you tell him, but he’s as brain dead as you by now.

A second later, “lemme join.”

It’s been a while since the two of you have squeezed into the bathtub together, usually assigning each other days to individually join Hyejoo. So it’s really not either of your faults when you realize a second too late how small the space is. One on each end, feet bumping into each other with every movement, it’s like trying to squeeze two feet into one shoe. You try to readjust yourself, but the bath flooring is slippery and you nearly take away Namjoon’s procreative abilities with a mighty kick.

To make a long story short, you end up pressed against his chest, Namjoon’s thick thighs framing you as you relax into the steaming water. Instinctively, he reaches for Hyejoo’s bottle of baby shampoo that sits on the tub’s ledge and only catches himself just as the first droplet is meeting his palm. “Oh, fuck,” he sighs, quickly closing the lid before he can waste any more precious product. “Shit, I’m so sad.”

You snort, sinking farther back into his chest. He’s warm and soft in all the right ways, the hot water making him slippery. “What did we even do before Hyejoo?” you ask, reaching into the deepest crevices of your mind for answers. Namjoon’s hand comes around, fingers sprawled out over your knee, the one you have propped up and breaking the water’s surface

He makes a rather vague sound, something like I don’t know, as he lolls forward, forehead on your shoulder. “Go on dates,” he responds eventually. “Fuck like crazy.”

You roll your eyes. “Besides that,” you chide, pinching the back of his palm. “Don’t we have any hobbies? Any interests?” He doesn’t answer, which is all the answer you need. Why didn’t you get into puzzle solving back when it was a trend? “Is this what our life has become? Crying in a bathtub at seven pm because our emotional support child isn’t here?”

“Our only child,” he corrects. Namjoon tries to placate your looming existential crisis with a kiss to your shoulder, lips against wet skin, that he trails up to your neck. “And what’s wrong with going on dates and fucking?” he murmurs, hands around your stomach. “That’s how we got here,” he teases, and you’re not sure if it’s the warm water or the way his voice is like melted chocolate dripping down your body, but you become all too aware of his presence at that moment. Particularly, of the plush lips mindlessly kissing your shoulder, the wet smack of their motions.

Another kiss, this time right below your ear. It has your head rolling to the side, exposing more skin for him to kiss up on. There’s still that overwhelming cloud of worry in the back of your mind, but it’s gradually nudged away by Namjoon’s warm hands on your skin. Sensing your weakening resolve, Namjoon strikes again. A hand slips down over your stomach, brushes over your belly button and finds itself between your thighs. “You used to love date nights, baby,” he says, the pad of his pointer finger grazing your clit.

It’s been so long since you and Namjoon have been alone like this, months since you’ve been able to touch him beyond a simple make out session, a halfhearted grope beneath the sheets. Your daughter, as much as you loved her, made intimacy impossible for the two of you. She was always around, always looking for one or the both of you, so there was never time to even think about getting frisky.

Only now, with his finger circling your clit, do you realize the blessing in disguise that was your daughter’s first slumber party away from home.

His finger nudges your clit, flicks it teasingly. “Why don’t you let me take care of you, hm?” he hums, the hand that had been soothingly stroking the inside of your thigh coming up to rub at your breasts.

“Yes, please,” you whine. Resting your head on his shoulder leaves Namjoon with a clear view down your front, lips kissing and sucking along your neck. His huge hand palms your breast, massaging the sensitive skin. You hadn’t realized how sore you’d been until now, his nimble fingers pressing deliciously into the skin. If your nipples weren’t already hard before, they certainly were now.

He traps one pearled nipple between two fingers, the sudden pinch making you hiss. “Easy, now,” he chuckles, his low tenor paired with his wandering hands making your eyes roll back.

Namjoon liked to use a higher tone around the house. He read somewhere that children prefer lighter, sweeter tones, so the last few years have been spent listening to him lighten the tone of his voice for the sake of your daughter. The deeper, growlier voice that had first made you fall in love with him became a rarity in your household, reserved for quiet nights in the living room or long drives where Hyejoo was asleep in the backseat. Only then does he unleash the gravelly qualities of his voice.

Then, and apparently, now.

His doll-like lips press against your jaw, suck lightly enough to make your body tingle. “Do you remember how it was the first time?” he says suddenly, his hot breath against your neck.

Namjoon’s got your clit trapped between two wandering fingers, has your pussy twitching with the vibrations of his voice alone. And for some reason, he’s trying to reminisce about your first time sleeping together.

“N- Not really,” you confess, subtly reaching down. You cover his palm with yours, hoping your touch will encourage him to carry on with his actions. It doesn’t. It just leaves both your hands hovering over your pussy, your thighs instinctively closing in on them to keep him there. Namjoon responds to that, releasing the breast he had been gently massaging in order to pry your legs apart. He does it so easily, despite the way your legs feel tight as hell, and the fact makes you whimper.

Once he’s got his hands back between your thighs— this time, he uses one hand to carefully part your quivering lips, the other one gingerly pressing down against your clit to draw the most heavenly sensations out of you —Namjoon feels the need to dive into a recap of your first fuck. “You were so cute,” he laughs, and you don’t know if you should take offense. Well, considering you're married and have a kid now, it’s probably too late to say anything anyway. His hand suddenly switches gears, three fingers joining together to begin caressing them over your throbbing clit. “Kept talking to me so politely, even when you were creaming my cock.”

You scoff, but it gets cancelled out by the moan he draws out of you. “D- Didn’t know you that well,” you remind him, your thighs twitching. You desperately want to buck forward into his giving hands, want to feel the true power of those long, pretty fingers on your cunt.

Behind you, Namjoon’s cock grows thick, his breathing a slow and steady pace by your ear. You can already imagine how heavy he is, the vein that runs along the underside and throbs with each new bit of stimulus he receives. Normally you would reach back and try to offer him the same helping hand he gives you, but your thighs feel wobbly already. Your libido has been dormant for so long that even just the barest flick of his thumb has you dissolving into his arms like this is your first time.

It’s as if Namjoon’s sensing your inner battle, a muffled laugh against the side of your neck. “This is about you,” he reminds you. As much as you want to protest, a sudden hard rub against your quivering lips has you gasping for breath. “Give me a kiss,” he commands softly, nudging his nose against the side of your face. It takes a second for you to ground yourself, draw yourself away from your building pleasure, to turn toward his waiting lips.

Namjoon kisses you slowly, like he’s taking his time with you. For the first time in a long time, he truly can. He doesn’t have to worry about a certain someone waking up in the middle of the night or walking in or anything along those lines, lips molding against yours. Plush as always, the faint taste of dinosaur chicken nuggets clinging to his lips. It makes you laugh a little, drawing away with an airy giggle. Namjoon smiles at your reaction, murmuring a soft, “what is it?”

You shake your head, eyes fluttering shut as he continues his circular motions against your clit. “Nothing,” you pant, finally getting in your first thrust against his fingers. “I just really need you,” you say instead, pushing his hand harder down against you.

You’re feeling a little antsy, having been deprived of this sensation for so long. Namjoon knows this, which is why he very purposely slows down. “There’s no rush,” he smirks, placing a kiss against your chin. “How do you want it, baby?”

The inside of your brain is a scrambled mess, filled with fantasies and ideas that have been plaguing you for months. There’s so much you want to do, want to try, but it’s like your brain completely blanks out when he asks. It’s just as you’re beginning to formulate a thought that you’re interrupted by the sound of your ringtone in the other room. Your husband’s arms tighten around you. “Don’t go,” he says quietly, the tip of his nose running along your neck. It’s so tempting to stay here, to let yourself go in his arms and chase the pleasure you’ve been craving for so long.

But the endless possibilities of who exactly could be calling wins over. Was it work? Was it your parents? Jimin?

It is with a heavy sigh that you reach for Namjoon’s hand, slowly pushing him away from your cunt. “I’m sorry, honey,” you frown, standing up out of the tub. Your legs really do feel like jelly, and you nearly slip and crack your skull on the porcelain edge. Luckily, Namjoon is there to steady you with two secure hands on your waist. “I’ll make it quick,” you reassure him, dropping a kiss on his pouty lips as you fasten a towel around your body.

The phone is just starting up its final ring when you reach it. It’s Jimin, and you’re torn between being thankful that you’re getting word on Hyejoo and full blown panic from the fact Jimin is calling you while Hyejoo is in his care. The unease has you accepting the call without a second more to waste. “Hello?” you say, hand tightening on the front of your towel. Stray water droplets trace ticklish trails down the backs of your thighs.

“__?” comes Jimin’s sweet voice. It’s normally soothing, but right now it has every hair on your body standing on end. Before you can even respond, Jimin is jumping headfirst into a whirlwind of a conversation. “Sorry for calling so late, but I just wanted to check in on you, babe. I know you were really panicked about Hye’s first night away from home, but don’t worry! Me and the missus are doing everything we can to make sure she’s fine.”

His confidence reassures you, lessens the weight that had been sitting on your chest all afternoon. But at the same time, you find yourself wanting to throttle him.

Your gorgeous, sexy hunk of a husband is sitting in the other room, cock at full mast and ready to pleasure you to the moon and back, and here you are listening to Jimin brag about how good of a caretaker he is. You were definitely going to make Jimin pay for this.

Deep breaths, you tell yourself, toying with a stray thread on your towel. “Really,” you drawl, and you can practically see Jimin’s ego swell over the line.

“Yup,” Jimin agrees, and by the sounds of it, doesn’t seem like he’s hoping to end this call anytime soon. You want to shoulder part of the blame; you had been extra sad and mopey when you dropped your daughter off. On top of being a good dad, Jimin was also a good friend. It was only naturally he wanted to reassure you when he could.

Still, the memory of Namjoon’s wet chest was calling out to you.

“The girls are playing princess in the living room with the missus right now,” Jimin chats on. “New dresses and everything— the Yerin Birthday Special —and they asked me to be their handsome prince!” You sincerely cannot wait for the day you get to introduce Jimin to your right fist.

“That’s great,” you offer, not that he’s really listening. He’s too busy talking about Yerin (and making sure to include Hyejoo in for your sake) and how amazing it is to watch your kids grow up before your very eyes. And while you agree with the sentiment, you really wish he had called you and told you this earlier, when you were at the peak of your motherly meltdown. Not now with Namjoon waiting for you in the bathtub. Was the water even warm anymore?

The mind blowing orgasm practically slips from your fingertips the longer Jimin talks. “Anyway! Enough about them. I’m thinking of trying out that blueberry bread recipe that aired on TV last night. You know, the one they had that actress make.”

You’ve just about resigned yourself to listening to Jimin talk about his love for pastries for the next thirty minutes when something brushes up behind you. “What the fu—“

He’s so tall and broad, practically covers your entire frame when he stands so close. And his smile is so pretty when he aims it your way. “Sh,” Namjoon murmurs, gesturing towards your phone.

“__?” Jimin calls. “Everything alright?”

Namjoon nods eagerly, the hands on your waist properly positioning you in front of him. It’s with a shudder running down your spine that you respond. “I’m fine,” you tell Jimin, letting go of the front of your towel when Namjoon abruptly pushes you over. The white comforter infused with both of your scents comes all too close, your elbow barely managing to reach out in time to catch you.

Wide eyed, you turn to throw Namjoon a scandalized look over your shoulder. He meets you with a close-mouthed smile, the dimples in his cheeks making themselves known. His chest is drier now, the smooth planes covered in a thin dewy glow and a spattering of droplets he missed. There’s a towel around his waist that’s barely doing its job, especially when you catch sight of the erection tenting beneath it.

“As I was saying,” Jimin rambles on. Namjoon nods towards the device, refusing to move again until you finally turn back around to finish your conversation with Jimin. “That actress fucked it up so bad. They really give anyone with a pretty face screen time these days, huh? At least I know how to properly preheat an oven.”

You nod. “You do make the best cookies in town,” you respond, a ball of anticipation building in your throat from the mere fact Namjoon is standing behind you.

It’s completely warranted once you feel two cold fingers trail up the back of your thigh, your towel gradually pushed up to drape around your waist. The air in your room is a little chilly, and the goosebumps that raise on your skin are partly due to that, as well as the ghostlike touch of Namjoon’s fingers. “Pretty,” he murmurs, so deep and gravelly it has you shuddering.

Two fingers dance along your skin, and you subconsciously jolt away when they meet the tender skin around your pussy. By your ear, Jimin says, “if I completely fuck it up, we’ll just pretend this conversation never happened. Deal?”

Using your own body against you, Namjoon lets one finger dip just the smallest bit into your quivering hole. You clench up, thighs trembling when he eventually pulls it back out and traces your own wetness over your folds. “Perfect,” you bite out, clutching at the sheets beneath you as Namjoon reaches for your forgotten clit. It’s still so sensitive from your little fun in the bath, and it takes every ounce of strength in you to hold back the whiny gasp in your throat.

Behind you, Namjoon suddenly presses in close. One hand on your hip, he gently encourages you onto the bed. Your knees sink into the mattress, one less strain on your legs. “Good girl,” he praises quietly, rewarding your behavior with a finger sinking into your cunt.

“Joo—“ you almost slip, burying your face into the sheets just in time.

A devastatingly slow pace, his finger just barely moving in and out of you. The bulk of your pleasure is coming from that bundle of nerves towards your front, but the teasing gesture isn’t appreciated anyway. When he leans over you, breath against your neck, you feel the length of his cock against your thigh. “He’s asking you a question,” Namjoon whispers, “answer him, baby.”

You nod, eyes rolling to the back of your head when he presses himself closer. Jimin hasn’t even noticed your lack of participation, mindlessly humming a song. The sounds of a running sink highlight his vocals. “Oh, absolutely,” you babble. “I wouldn’t tell a soul.”

“Ha!” Jimin scoffs. “I knew I could always count on you, Miss __,” he snarks playfully.

The hand toying with your clit comes around your waist, fingers stroking against your folds from this new angle. A silent moan has you writhing forward, unconsciously away from him as Jimin babbles on the other end of the line. He’s none the wiser to the lewd acts happening on the line, listening to the sound of his own voice. Namjoon lands a mean little bite against your shoulder, plunging his finger deeper inside of your clenching hole.

Paired with his teasing fingers, it’s nearly impossible to withhold your moans, biting your lip until it stings. “Fuck, fuck,” you whimper against the sheets, holding your phone as far away as possible from your mouth as a litany of curse words spill from your lips. Namjoon chuckles at your dramatics, not like he has his fingers deep inside of you right now or anything.

“So cute,” he hums, removing his hand from your clit to snatch your towel away. It gives way too easily, messily thrown over the edge of the bed. With your back completely exposed now, Namjoon wastes no time trailing a line of kisses up your spine, finishing off with an especially wet and hard one behind your ear. “Hang up now.”

His permission sets your body on edge, drawing your phone close again. Jimin is talking about dinner or something, you don’t even know. Not an ounce of remorse fills you when you clear your throat and hurriedly announce, “I have to—“ Namjoon’s cock, finally uncovered by his towel, presses against your folds and you nearly lose it. “—I have to go now, Jimin,” you say, leveling your breathing as best as you can.

“Wait, what the fuck?” Jimin says, thrown off by your sudden departure.

The mushroom tip of his cock kisses your clit. “Fuck— I really have to go.” And you hang up, chucking the phone off to the side hastily. With your hands both freed, you scramble onto your back, meeting the amused gaze of your husband behind you. “Fuck me, now.”

Namjoon laughs, reaching for the towel barely clinging onto his waist. One suave swoop later and it joins yours on the floor. “You did good,” he praises, lowering himself between your spread thighs. You roll your eyes, grabby hands reaching for his hips until he’s sitting snugly against you, cock resting over your throbbing cunt.

“Yeah, yeah,” you snap, the tight feeling in your tummy growing with every second that passes. Namjoon isn’t as unaffected as he pretends to be, a pearly bead of cum appearing at the tip of his engorged cock. “Just fuck me now.”

He raises a brow. “Missionary?” As if it’s the first time.

“Is there something wrong with it?” you ask anyway, self-consciously reaching an arm over yourself to cover your naked breasts. They’ve pebbled over just from his stare alone.

Namjoon hesitates, the hand on your hip drawing slow circles with his thumb. Eventually, he responds with a halfhearted shrug. “It’s not the best.” This is news to you, and you find yourself sitting up at the sudden bomb he’s dropped.

He’s still hard as rock between you, his dick laying almost artfully against your slit. You really just want to throw aside all reservations and begin grinding against him, penetration be damned, but now Namjoon’s got that thoughtful quirk to his lips. The one that usually accompanies any big brained idea, so you settle down, nudging him with your thigh until he’s looking at you again. “Penny for your thoughts?” What you really want to say is please fuck me like I’m just another cum rag of yours and make it hurt, but alas.

Namjoon sits back on his haunches. “I read somewhere that on your hands and knees is the best way to get pregnant.” You choke on your own tongue, face ablaze from his forward statement. Meanwhile, Namjoon is looking as relaxed as ever.

You hadn’t really discussed children after Hyejoo. The wordless agreement had been that sure, you were both down for another kid sometime in the future. But the exact date had sort of been murky. Hyejoo is three now, and you heard from another mom that it’s difficult for children with wide age gaps to get along. You don’t want her growing up being far removed from another sibling.

But also, now?

It’s like Namjoon knows your thoughts before you even do. “Alright, wifey, say no more,” he says, leaning down to place a kiss against your lips. “I’ll get the condom, alright?”

And then he’s stepping off the bed, every muscle of his toned body flexing as he swaggers over towards the dresser. He’s a walking dream, the physical embodiment of all your crazy sex fantasies, and he wants to fuck a baby into you. Your pussy says yes, but your rationality is still on the fence.

You roll onto your side, head propped into your open palm. “You want another baby?” you ask tentatively. Namjoon shrugs, carefully opening the new box of condoms you had bought half a year ago.

“It wouldn’t hurt to have another kid,” he answers, procuring a tiny foil packet from the box and returning to his spot between your legs. It’s like staring at a marble statue from this angle, the defined planes of his chest and abdomen, the gorgeous slope of his nose, the sharp angles of his face. You really lucked out.

Your decision comes just as he’s easing the rubber over the tip of his cock, the swollen head just barely enveloped. You place a hand against his wrist, earning his attention. “Take it off,” you mumble, and you swear on your entire life he swells another inch.

“Oh, baby,” he groans, hastily throwing the condom somewhere across the room. He rolls over you, bulging arms sweeping you up into his embrace, lips capturing yours in a sloppy kiss. You whimper, letting his tongue push itself past your lips. When he pulls away, it’s with a wet pop and glistening lips. They’re so puffy now, flushed a nice rosy color, that makes him look even more handsome when he smiles down at you. “Gonna look so pretty all pregnant,” he beams, placing a chaste kiss against you one last time before he’s hurriedly rolling you onto your stomach.

You hide your bashful expression against the sheets, suddenly feeling very shy before him. But then Namjoon’s cock is running along your lips and you’re left a shivering mess. “Please just fuck me,” you beg hoarsely, and Namjoon obeys.

“Whatever you want, wifey,” he teases, and before you can call him out for his cheesiness, he’s pressing his thumb into your aching hole once more. “Is this okay?” he asks, somberly for the first time in what seems like forever.

“I’m okay,” you confess, a little shyly now that you know his true motives.

Namjoon chuckles, quickly removing his finger from inside of you to give your ass one soothing pat. “Going in,” he warns you, and finally, you’re rewarded for all your struggles. It’s only as his mushroom head squeezes in that you realize you could have done with a bit more stretching, but that thought fades away the more and more he pushes in. “Fuck,” he groans, the low intonation of his voice making your toes curl.

If it’s not his voice, it’s the sheer length of his cock inside of you. The girth makes your spine tingle, has you muffling a pitiful whimper into the comforter beneath you. “Relax for me,” he directs, and then suddenly he’s placing a palm against your back, pushing you further down. “Hips up.”

You groan. The normally soft fabric of the blanket feels like hell on your sensitive breasts. “I’m trying,” you whine, pushing back onto him in an effort to familiarize yourself with his cock again. It’s been so long since he’s been inside of you like this, since he’s filled you so well, that your body acts a little stupid now. He hasn’t even begun thrusting and you already feel like you’ll cum just from this.

The angle is different than your usual style, has him moving along every inch of you as he sinks in. Two big hands grab at your waist, manhandling you closer to him until you’re just like he wants you to be. “There we go,” he sighs, and with him motionless, you finally relax. It’s about a two second pause before he begins to draw himself back out. “How do you want it?” he grunts, but it’s lost beneath the moan that escapes you. It’s the same question he asked you in the tub, right before Jimin called, except this time you have an answer.

“Fast,” you gasp, the pain from the stretch finally, finally, melting away as your body grows accustomed to his presence inside of you. “Do it fast, please.”

Namjoon does as he’s told, waiting until he’s pulled out until the tip to satisfy your requests. And then he’s off.

Your body isn’t as young as it once was, left a little worn from the entire child-bearing process. Sometimes you wonder how exactly you and Namjoon would fuck until sunrise before, how your sex drive was so high that it allowed such a thing to happen. Admittedly, there’s currently a stiffness inside of you that has been there for a while now, and you barely remember how you got rid of it before. Apparently, this is how.

Namjoon’s hard cock rams into you once, makes you release the most embarrassingly loud moan at the sudden intrusion, and it’s like all those months of tension that built up in your body are melted away. His cock pushes past your folds, creating a lewd squelching sound that would otherwise leave you mortified to learn it came from your body. You shudder, desperately pushing your ass back against him in a feeble attempt to feel it again.

“Still so fucking tight for me,” he growls, snapping his hips forwards. His skin slaps against yours, leaves you feeling tender from the brutal movements of his body. But at the same time, it feels absolutely terrific.

Your lips are still coated in your own wetness, have him noisily moving in and out. “J- Joon,” you whimper softly, but you doubt he hears it over the sound of his own labored breathing. “More.”

He responds with a sudden piston inside of you that has the tip of his cock nearly kissing your cervix. “More?” he huffs, the hand on your back pressing down until you fear you’ll become one with the mattress. “You want more?” You nod hurriedly, somehow managing to stretch a hand down between you to toy with your clit. The brush of your own fingers has you bucking back onto him in surprise.

Wordlessly, he speeds up his pace, thrusting his hips into your velvety walls at a faster speed than before. It’s a weird sensation, a sort of ticklish feeling m that makes you tremble with each roll forward. You can’t say the two of you have done it in this position a lot, always preferring the more romantic missionary position to anything else, but this experience was quickly making you an avid believer of its validity as a top tier sex position.

You swirl your pointer finger around your clit, trying to sync up your shaky touch with his steady thrusts. It’s useless, because every time you feel like you’ve gotten into the same groove, Namjoon one ups you by hauling you back against him. “Oh, f- fuck,” you sob, clawing at the sheets beneath you.

Namjoon groans, momentarily pausing his rapid thrusts to roll his buried cock against you. “Come on, baby,” he husks, the hilt of his cock kissing your folds.

There’s a lot of built up sexual tension inside of you, months on top of months of nothingness. Not to mention that little scene in the bathtub just now. So you’re not really surprised that your orgasm rears its head so early, curling up tightly in your stomach the longer Namjoon fucks you. He’s back to thrusting now, shallow little movements that make you see stars every time his cock glides inside of you. “Joon, I'm gonna...” you rasp out pitifully, grinding back against him.

“Whenever you want,” he murmurs, leaning forward to press a kiss against your shoulder. It’s sweet, but on top of that, it has him pushing in further than before, finally pressed against that sensitive spot inside of you that makes your entire body lock up. You sob, thighs quivering when he reaches an arm around you. It’s almost romantic how your hands meet, his fingers covering yours as he guides them over your clit slowly. “Give it to me, baby,” he croons, lips pressed securely against your neck. He leaves soft kisses there, smooches really, that make you melt.

Another shallow buck of his hips forward and you’re cumming, breaths picking up until they accumulate into a choked wail against the sheets. “Fuck— oh, fuck,” you cry, your thighs spasming from the force of your first satisfying orgasm in months. Namjoon holds you through it, slowly thrusting inside of you until he’s drawn out your entire orgasm.

The new added pleasure makes his movements sound even wetter, dirtier even. “That’s it,” he purrs, pushing himself back up to his full height behind you. You feel absolutely boneless beneath him, laying limply against the mattress as Namjoon repositions your hips for himself. “Can I finish like this, sweetheart?” he asks anyway, thumbs drawing a soothing pattern along your hip.

You can barely catch your breath, so you settle on a halfhearted nod that has him huffing out a laugh.

For some reason, Namjoon fucks you harder once he knows you’ve had your fill. Like he’s trying to draw another orgasm out of you, but is also the least bit concerned with you. Honestly, it works. He moves fast and hard, like he has no regard for your pleasure, and for some reason that turns you on more than it should. It’s this weird fantasy of yours, to be mistreated by a man as respectful as Namjoon, and you find yourself weirdly fulfilling it now as he fucks his cock into you.

His fingers dig into your skin, wildly bucking into you as he chases his own high, and it’s embarrassing how quickly a second one builds up for you. You moan at one particular thrust, body sensitive all over. “Oh,” you whimper, “Namjoon.”

He grunts, your cries fueling him on as he continues his mad race to the end. “Gonna cum with me again?” he pants, his quick pace rocking you forward. You nod, using your killer grip on the sheets to ground yourself as you weakly attempt to meet his thrusts. “Aren’t you the sweetest,” he hums, and doesn’t let you respond as he continues to jackhammer his way into your pussy at a bruising pace.

It takes a few more thrusts, and one whiny cry of his name— “come on, Joonie,” you whimper, turning to throw him a teary-eyed gaze over your shoulder; he shudders at the sight —until Namjoon is finally tipped over the edge, shooting his pleasure deep into you on the next thrust. It’s warm, paints your walls and threatens to spill out when he finally pulls out.

But Namjoon has read up, using those big strong arms of his to keep you from collapsing onto your tummy as he scrambles around for something to keep your hips up. “It sticks better this way,” he says, a sheen of sweat against his temples when he flops down beside you.

“What sticks better,” you groan, the achy feeling of just having your world rocked quickly settling into your bones.

Namjoon leans forward and places a kiss against your lips, as if saying here, for all your hard work. “You know... it,” he shrugs, hands behind his head as he prepares himself to supervise your post-sex nap, just to make sure you don’t accidentally move around and let his cum leak out. “You did good, wifey,” he praises with another smooch. “Maybe we should let Hyejoo sleep over at Jimin’s more.”

Hyejoo’s return is the highlight of the year.

You pick her up around noon, and your heart nearly grows ten sizes when you see her come running down Jimin’s front steps and into your arms. “Hi, mommy,” she beams, the same smile as Namjoon. And just like Namjoon, you can’t stop yourself from covering her face in tiny kisses. She says they tickle and squirms and squeals in your embrace.

Jimin’s at the door with this weirdly blank look on his face. “Hey, Jimin,” you call out, helping Hyejoo load her bag into the backseat.

“Hey…” he greets, just as Hyejoo frantically begins calling for you to buckle her in. “Um, __,” Jimin says, but you’re a little busy securing the tiny love of your life into her booster seat, so you just throw him a quick glance to let him know you’re listening. Kinda. “There’s something I have to tell you—“

“I wanna see daddy!” Hyejoo babbles from the backseat, wildly waving her hands around as you finally close the door on her. With it shut, her loud voice is drowned out and you’re left raising a brow at Jimin as you round the front of the car.

“What’s up?” you ask.

Jimin comes down the steps, awkwardly hovering by the front of your car. “Um, when we were on the phone—“ Hyejoo knocks her tiny hands against the window, gesturing for you to hurry up. You flash Jimin an apologetic frown at the interruption. “Well, you see. She kinda heard us— well, me—”

Another flurry of knocks, and you can’t wait to relay to Namjoon how excited your daughter had been to see him again. It’ll boost his ego, not that he really needs it to be any bigger. “That’s fine,” you tell Jimin, swinging your door open. Immediately, Hyejoo’s high-pitched voice fills the space between you and Jimin. “You know I don’t mind talking to the missus,” you joke, nudging his side. “She’s my friend too, ya know.”

“Gotta show daddy something!” Hyejoo shouts from the backseat, has this big smile on her face that makes you smile as well.

Beside you, Jimin is quickly falling apart. “No, well—” you drop down into your seat “it wasn’t her who heard—“ You shut the door, lowering the window to thank Jimin one more time. Hyejoo beats you to it.

“Bye, Mr. Jimin!” she says, tiny legs kicking around all wildly in her excitement. You shake your head with a grin, waving goodbye to Jimin one last time as you pull out of his driveway.

“Daddy!” Hyejoo shrieks upon entering your home. Her tiny overnight bag is tossed down at the entryway, ladybug rain boots haphazardly kicked towards the general direction of the shoe closet. Namjoon had been upstairs in his study when you left, but he now comes bounding down the steps at the sound of your daughter’s voice. He cries out a dopey, “princess”, as he scoops her up in his big arms. He does a twirl and everything, so dramatic. But it makes Hyejoo giggle like crazy.

She allows one big fat kiss against her chubby cheeks before she’s shushing him with the news of her announcement. “Daddy, look,” she beams, holding his face between her tiny hands. “I can say the f sound now!”

Namjoon has been avidly working towards this ability for months now. Namjoon, who has spent nights reading every page of every child development book possible, who has spent hours decorating pretty flashcards for her, who has sectioned off time from his busy schedule everyday just to go over lessons with her. Well, Namjoon looks over the goddamn moon at the news.

“Let’s hear it, honey,” you urge, stepping in when his happiness renders him incapable of speech. So he just nods along, looks like a bobblehead doll beside you.

And with both of her proud, sometimes overprotective, parents standing before her, Hyejoo puts on a big grin and says, “fuck.”

#bangtanhq #networkbangtan #namjoon smut #kim namjoon smut #namjoon fic #kim namjoon fic #knj fic #bts fic #bts smut #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x reader smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x reader smut #mine

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persephoneyss · 3 years

Text

Doomeds.

Pairing: Min Yoongi x f! Reader. Ft. Bts.

Genre: Yandere, dark themes, anguish, suspense.

Summary: ❝We are doomeds, wandering in eternal suffering.❞

Warnings: Yandere behavior, obsession, stalking / stalking on cameras, humiliation, unspecified forced marriage, n*n-c*n explicit sexual relations (on the reader), abuse of power, implicit murder, drug use, kidnapping, hitting, manipulation, dating previous trauma, alcoholism and depression (in Yoongi), accusations of infidelity, dub-con (in Yoongi's case), the reader is in school but is of legal age, death threats, really strange facts. Possibly this would qualify as dark fantasy since everything is so unrealistic.

Number of words: 10,000+

︙Author's note: *sighs* This is the longest fic I've ever written, and I honestly don't know how it turned out because I didn't read it twice like I always do before publishing it. But my beautiful baby helped me correct, I hope you enjoy it and please read the warnings well, I do not want lawsuits. Thanks for being here!

(Sorry for any mistakes, my first language is not English and I am not fluent either.)

Puedes leer este fic y más aquí en español.

If they ever had to ask the reality of events it would be ... Unbelievable. Thinking of how just a simple action changes everything in an already established and perfect environment.

A life.

Your minutes, hours and days were the same under your criteria and eyesight, you study in the mornings, you work in the afternoons and you attend to your homework at night. It was a good routine that used to be repetitive at times, it was fun to follow, even more so in your part-time job.

You could meet many people working in one of the best cafes in the city, your classmate insisted too many times that you work with her saying that could recommend you and you should not even pass a test, they would only accept you for her.

It was a good opportunity and you accepted it with a smile, although she was long gone from work, you were still grateful for the good salary and health insurance that they gave you every month.

"An American coffee with a spoon of sugar and a green tea cake with cream on top." Your mouth and hand move in sync, the client nods silently. You smile, pointing out other details before asking what name you would give the order.

With a sigh, he name came out like a gust of light wind. "Min... Min Yoongi."

You write his name on the screen, the little receipt paper comes out of the machine. You hand it to him by brushing his hand with yours, strangely cold and pale. A chill runs through you but you ignore it, continuing with your work.

"Good Morning _____!" One of the employees greets you kindly, you correspond still concentrated on serving the mysterious stranger's coffee. "Do you have a request for me?"

"Oh, uh... Yeah, this is for table four."

Yun smiles taking the tray with Yoongi's coffee and cake, arriving at his table. The man's expression can be dazzled even under his black mask that covers half of his face, his eyes look for you before colliding with you. YYou refuse to play along, continuing with your work, you had a lot to do and wasting time flirting wouldn't really help you make money.

However, it became pointless trying to ignore him when he kept coming back day after day. Week after week. Tormenting your head, Yoongi was not the first nor the last handsome man you would see coming often, your work establishment was literally in a strategic area and not cheap, you knew that many men and women with money frequented them to drink a coffee or eat some delicacy, even sometimes they only came in to sit for a few hours attending to their affairs over the phone.

It was fine, it was comfortable. You weren't expecting too much, sitting behind a counter, always having to fake a smile despite being tired.

Perhaps it was the constant visits that led you to start a conversation with him. You had about an hour of rest, you prefer to spend those few moments sitting in front of the window of the premises eating any cake that was a few days before expiring to avoid paying for consumption, you felt comfortable in that place that seemed so far from all the other clients.

Until his voice interrupted once, he seemed as calm as ever. His gaze lost from you elsewhere avoiding making contact with you, nervous apparently. His rough and austere tone was changed to a bolder and lower one, asking if he could sit next to you for a few minutes.

"Sure, sit down... he's not busy." It was your answer without having any problem in sharing your place so secret, so comfortable. It was still just as safe even with him present.

And in much the same way, everything became a silent routine. You heeded his order, you took your rest next to him and then you both left at one point. The talks became more common, he being the first to ask about such insignificant things as the rise in the market in the country and how prices should start to rise in coffee as well.

You laughed, you really did it by getting his attention and sharing your reaction.

They both started laughing at how strange it all started, and it was always the perfect anecdote to tell their friends about how they met.

Everything was perfect, like a painting by a great artist, what you would see would be beautiful and cheerful colors, adorning both of you possibly holding hands with a smile and a loving expression from the man who was now your partner. Her pale skin and angelic face represented on beautiful thin paper, presented to the world as a painting that reflected a symbol of love between two souls met in a casual cafe and who wanted each other so much. Too much.

Yoongi was the clear representation of an ethereal person, casual and elegant, polite and kind, protective but not possessive. Simply to the target.

Your routine didn't change much after starting your relationship, you kept walking to your school in the mornings, you attended the cafeteria in the afternoons and you rested at night. Perhaps the only significant thing that you would get out of your boring schedule was your boyfriend's proposal about moving with him to the house of his best friend, almost a brother as he described it, and avoiding paying for your little apartment. You had made one and a thousand excuses, making Yoongi shut them all up.

"Jin is my brother, he would never take advantage of us. I already mentioned the proposal, about you... I have been living there for a few weeks, I assure you that you will be like family."

Family?

Your face relaxed for a few seconds, you had abandoned that feeling and sensation long ago since you moved from your home in your native country. Your mother used to call you every night but little by little that habit was lost, she also had her own problems and being aware of you as if you were a child was ridiculous.

"It's fine." It was your final decision, nervously you moved your hands in the air explaining what you would not accept.

Do not invade your privacy.

You had spent days thinking about how to introduce yourself to them, because apparently there would be more than just Jin, Yoongi and you in that house. Your things were scattered in boxes, you stood in the middle of the almost empty room still nervous about meeting new people and friends of your boyfriend.

That they were now family. Literally family.

The moving truck was parked in front of a large house, it had two stories and an incredibly large garden. More like a forest than an ordinary garden, you got out of the car trying to clean your clothes as much as possible and look presentable. Although it was difficult when your whole body was covered in dust after lifting the boxes.

"I'm not ready, Yoon." You say, containing your anxiety that vibrates to the surface of the skin within you.

Her hand gently brushed your cheek, giving you a bit of reassurance. "You look beautiful, they will accept you anyway." Her lips came up to yours, giving you a quick and soft kiss. "I just remember that I love you, and I know all my brothers will too because you are perfect."

You thanked the little compliment in a whisper, the door of the house opened just after the two of them left, you automatically showed a friendly smile approaching the first person to leave. He was a tall and rather handsome man, he seemed very well dressed to be indoors on a Sunday, more like he was going out to an important business meeting. He looked flawless and elegant.

"The suit was not necessary, Nam!" Shouted your boyfriend behind you mocking, the man laughed showing all the charm of him to your eyes.

"I'm Namjoon, Yoongi's friend. Nice to meet you... _____, right?"

"Yes, it's me. Sorry to see me so disastrous, it was a tiring day with the move."

Namjoon seemed like a very nice and incredibly understanding guy, his presence made you want to meet your boyfriend's other friends. You opened the door entering the house after Yoongi asked you to find your room to start carrying the other things, Namjoon stayed behind to help him, leaving you alone on your unknown route. You walk all over the place and you are surprised that you only walked through the living room, your eyes straying to a noise in the kitchen.

Curious.

You ignore it, continuing your way up, you read every name on the doors. Jin, Namjoon, Yoongi, Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook. All written brilliantly on each different door, you walk a few steps to one that says your name and you thank it with a sigh.

You weren't surprised by how big it was, everything inside that place seemed to be exorbitant and out of the ordinary.

"Oh, it must be you." You are surprised to hear a voice behind you, you turn around in fear before remaining calm. You recognized her face from a photo Yoongi had on her phone.

"Jimin?" You ask with fear of being wrong.

"It's me, it's nice to finally meet you. Jin-hyung said you're moving in a few days, I didn't think it would be so soon." His voice seemed to be calm but there was a hidden question. Why? Why were you there?

You take a few uncomfortable steps back. "It really was, but ... I thought it would be better to do it today that I don't have classes, plus Yoongi doesn't work this day and it seemed like the right thing to do. I'm sorry if bother you."

"No you don't. it's okay, Welcome." With that one simple word he left.

You thought you would have a longer talk with him but you weren't expecting too much, they didn't even know each other and you plan to chat with him like they were old acquaintances. Well, naive.

It seemed strange to you that no one else showed up in the whole house, even when you were uploading the last boxes of the move no one seemed to be a little curious to meet you. Aside from the already friendly Namjoon and the reserved Jimin.

"Yoon" You get his attention, he smiles at you taking the sheets out of your suitcase and making your makeshift bed ready for the night. "Do your friends work today?"

"I guess so, they really don't spend a lot of time together or at home." Explain without noticing your downcast face. You nod, putting the issue aside and concentrating your eyes on arranging your clothes. "Hey... Okay, you can meet them all at dinner today."

Your chest clenches in anguish, "Dinner?!"

"Yes, darling. It's the only time they meet all day, when Jin-hyung cooks for us especially on days like these where we have pleasant surprises."

You purse your lips annoyed, Yoongi smiles kissing your forehead so carefully and lovingly that it melts your senses. The mere presence of him made you want to continue with him forever, you relax for a few seconds hugging his body in silence. They both stay like this, with nothing to say but telling each other everything at the same time.

The thought of ever letting go scares you.

You wait several hours, still sitting in the same place where Yoongi left you. You should be presentable for dinner, you take a quick shower before running to change into a nice comfortable dress, you try not to overdo it but also not show disinterest. From the stairs you hear everyone's mixed voices, chatting animatedly.

"Honey, come here." Yoongi watches you, being the only one to notice that you were peeking in the shadows still unsure of interrupting.

You say hello by walking a few steps until you reach your boyfriend's side, you present yourself the best you can. Everyone falls silent, Namjoon smiles at you just like he did before. Jin interrupts the moment where no one seemed to have anything to say about you, or if he wants to want to introduce himself.

"Today we have a special guest, the dear girlfriend of our brother. I introduce myself, I am Jin the official cook of this family." His body bends down with an exaggeratedly long bow, proud of his words. Jimin rolls his eyes, while his other siblings just choose to tease. "On Yoongi's orders we made her favorite dish, so I don't want any complaints of any kind about the food. I'm looking at you Jungkook."

You are surprised how well everything is going, you feel praised when your favorite food is in front of you. She looked just as elegant, as if you were eating in a five-star restaurant and at a luxurious table with silk tablecloths.

Jungkook still stayed away from the talks, preferring to eat quietly and fiddle with his phone. Hoseok was more animated, asking about you and exaggerating anecdotes that happened with his childhood friends. He moved you that he will still remember all that after years. Namjoon vaguely drew your attention with book recommendations when you commented on your love of reading, Jin quietly continued eating in complete tranquility, Jimin thanked the food and just left.

Taehyung... He seemed interesting to you, he was looking at you all the time with narrowed eyes and when Jimin got up and walked away, he followed closely with a small and almost hidden smile.

You had a strange feeling inside what they called home.

"I-I... I need to use the bathroom." You say goodbye by wiping your lips with a napkin before quickly walking behind them both. Something attracted you to want to know more, as if they were leaving clues knowing that curiosity killed the cat and that you wanted to be the one.

Your steps were quiet, even more so when you tried not to be noticed . You went upstairs listening to their voices whispering and then... An obscene moan was clearly heard, Jimin seemed to laugh in the air.

Your hands shook thinking of opening the door and seeing what was happening. And without knowing it, you had fallen into the same network of attraction as them.

You curse yourself biting your tongue and cheek until they bleed, sure that you were going to make a big and heavy mistake. Minutes later you are going down the stairs back to the table but no one is waiting for you anymore, the table was just as spotless and clean. You are pleasantly surprised to learn that they don't treat you like a guest and that they don't wait too long for you. Maybe they had things to do, however you feel a chill when silence comes.

Where were?

You look around the yard, but no one is outside. Neither in the kitchen and less in the room where you had already walked twice. You catch the sound of drums in your ears rumbling loudly, you close your eyes in a daze for a few seconds until in an instant it goes away, and then everything comes back to itself. You hear their voices upstairs, chatting animatedly for the second time.

"Where were you sweetie? Are you okay?"

You nod still confused. How did they... When was that... You were really fine? You refuse to fall into paranoia and lie down next to Yoongi, as they continue their conversation with each other. Your head keeps spinning with the fresh memories you have, but they seem to disappear second by second and it scares you, you open your eyes without wanting to fall asleep yet but it is as difficult as breathing.

You fall into the dark abyss of sleep, feeling the same chill.

Your gaze is lost in the gray sky, you are cold and your body is swaying. Your eyes move restlessly observing that you are under the snow and a person holds you in his arms through the forest, walking at a slow and safe pace.

It's fine. Are you okay.

Wake up. Yoongi greets you from the door of your now room, you try to regulate your breathing thinking that he would notice your overwhelmed state and he would worry, but no. He is as calm as ever, relaxed even.

"Good morning beautiful, it's time for breakfast. Jin-hyung made your favorite." And with that last sentence she is shifting away, closing the door behind he.

You go down the stairs ready to go, your backpack resting on your shoulder. The table is just as full as at dinner, Jimin seemed very tired trying not to fall asleep, you watch him for a few seconds before looking at Taehyung who ignores you taking his cup of ... Coffee. You approach making him recoil alarmed and disgusted, you check the cup realizing that it is the same recipe that you use in the cafeteria.

Like them?

You look up noticing that, you were uncomfortable, Taehyung takes a few steps away from your body almost leaning against his, still sitting in his chair. You apologize to him making me sigh irritated, still ashamed you apologize again without eating or serving anything, just leaving through the front door.

Your journey is reflective. You forget, dream and recognize, that was the pattern you were following, everything seemed so strange and deep down gloomy, you feel the already casual chill running through your entire body almost like a warning.

Your seat in class was empty waiting, ready for you. Ari greets you, being your table companion and friend.

"Hey, intense night?" She jokes, you look shaking his head. She laughs pointing your neck. "You have... something there."

She frowns even more confused, her face leaves her smile aside and she starts looking at her things until she takes out a small mirror and she hands it to you. You look with horror at a large red bruise painting on your skin, it seemed painful but you had not even noticed or felt it. You touch it still scared and nothing, it doesn't hurt or it seems real.

You take a deep breath before lying with silly chatter, "I had an accident, but I'm fine. I had forgotten I was there, it was nothing serious."

Ari seems worried but in the end she forgets it by returning to the same kind and joking attitude of her, but her gaze drops from second by second to your neck making you cover yourself uncomfortable. Who? It can't be Yoongi, he was always very calm in that regard. You think terrified, your hand goes up to touch it and this time you manage to feel a sharp pain.

You have to cover it with the collar of your shirt so that no customer will notice it and avoid staining the reputation of the cafeteria, you smile nervously taking orders as fast as you can and avoiding looks. Yun greets you like every day, arriving at his work time. You spend hours begging for the clock to advance faster, the night sky appears and the doors close, you clear the last counter before you can finally show your neck again and breathe.

"That's a big problem." Yun whispers looking at the horrible mark, you nod with a sigh giving the same stupid excuse you told Ari. "You should use a little makeup to cover it up, I think it will help you a lot."

You think about it for a few seconds before deciding what you would do. You bow to him with a bow after he offered to close in your place and finish the remaining work for you.

You come home with a smile, you greet Namjoon who is reclining on the couch in the living room watching something on TV. You wait a few seconds but you do not receive a small or accidental look, you approach a few steps to repeat it again but you only get him to get up and go upstairs closing the door of his room apparently with a door slam. What the hell? You think covering your face with your hands looking for some comfort.

Everything was happening inside you, it was like a whirlpool sweeping away your sanity. Were you going crazy? Or you were just thinking a lot about nothing.

You try to draw a picture of your situation, but the only thing that repeats is the constant painting of Yoongi and you together.

"Yoongi!" You say to yourself with a smile, you drop your backpack running towards his room, wanting to see him after such a day.

Your hopes fade like air, everything within the space him screams 'he', but he is not there. You check the safe time that he should be home at that moment. You hear Jin's voice screaming from below about dinner ready, you sigh losing your appetite at those moments.

You lie on your bed checking your cell phone in case there was a message from Yoongi warning about he delay but nothing. You feel empty for some strange reason, but there was nothing different about it now.

If I had been more attentive and conscientious, you would have noticed that two more people other than Yoongi and you were missing from the table. Jin smiles sitting in his same place leaving your plate not caring without you being there with them, his smile never fades even when all his brothers are sitting silently eating and looking at your empty place so intensely that it was terrifying, he squeezes the cutlery in his hand without wanting to break the tradition in his family.

Dinners are sacred and no one should be missing. There will be no discussions or complaints, that's what the rest of the time is for.

That was what her mother said, sitting at the table in her old home containing her anger at seeing her husband so calm after having been unfaithful once more. Not on the table, not on the table.

Not on the table, honey.

Jimin opened the last bottle with a little satisfaction, poured another glass before handing it to his friend who was only glaring at the ground.

"She's not like that... I know her." Repeating the same stupid prayer for hours, Taehyung rolled his eyes trying to calm his annoyance, looking at his other friend insisting that he help him.

"Yoongi-hyung you saw it yourself, she had that... That mark. you didn't do it, maybe Tae is right and she-..."

"Not!" I scream interrupting what to him were lies. "_____ she's my girlfriend, she's not like that. I know her ... she loves me! She loves me! Do you understand?" Says exalted, holding the shirt of his friend who closed his mouth immediately, Jimin noticed that same reflection of anger in him and knew it was better to leave it for now.

Taehyung pushed the drunk Yoongi away from his side, making him release him and repeat the same phrase as in his state, he tried to believe himself.

The door to your room was opened and the smell of alcohol invaded you, making you look disgusted. You closed your eyes without wanting to see him, his body fell to the side of your bed approaching your body so slowly that the anxiety inside you doubled.

"I'm sorry..." He whispered.

His hands rested around you, giving you that warmth so familiar and comfortable in your gray days. A sob was heard while you lost yourself in your own thought, you watch it melt into your arms crying and without wanting to tell you why.

"It hurts." It's the only thing it says. But... Why?

You wake up. Just like a week ago, days had passed and it seemed like your skin kept accumulating horrible marks all over the place. You even went to consult a doctor but he only insisted that something... Or someone did them with such fury that it was incredible that a piece of skin will not be torn off by the force of his suction.

You touched the last mark that came, it was dangerously close to your crotch, you try to hide the others with makeup but they were still visible at a short distance.

You went down the stairs to see them all again, you greet with regret taking the first thing you find. Your mug had your name written on it, it was a rather curious gift from Jin after your melancholic night with Yoongi days ago, he apologized explaining that he felt bad after hearing all the sobs and apologies. For a moment you thought it was something exaggerated but he kept insisting that he felt bad about himself, not with Yoongi who was almost his brother or with you, with him.

You accepted it without wanting to show your dislike for his selfishness and narcissism, thanking him so softly that he hardly heard you.

The special drink that morning was coffee... Americano. You felt insecure to drink it, and you just put it aside.

Same recipe.

Yoongi looked at you for a few seconds before smiling fondly, and you just looked away, leaving him with a confused face as you walk out the door so quickly that he can hardly feel you.

He sighed before being drawn to Jimin's grin-adorned face, he shrugged, hinting at his silent opinion. She is not faithful to you Yoongi, why do you keep waiting for something good? Only looks at her body, her attitude and who she surrounds herself with, it is a classic of womens. You will know that she is a fox hidden under her sheepsuit, just observing her more and you never leave her.

The marks on your body, your cold attitude made him more and more suspicious and fall for Taehyung's profound words. She bit his lip, refusing to spy on your life away from him... Out of his sight.

But he really wasn't doing anything wrong, just observing. In his now dirty head, everything was valid if he could know the truth.

You did the same thing you always told him on his nights where they stayed up talking about his heavy days. You went to school, to work, and then home. Nothing changed your version.

I try to focus on your friends, there was only one girl you spent more time with in your classes and after them. He researched everything about his life, but he had nothing to worry about after learning that he had a boyfriend. He passed your work, standing outside for hours waiting to see you do something dirty or guilty, but you never seemed to move.

You just served the orders and then kindly said goodbye to the customers. He felt guilty for doing something so low to you, until he saw you.

To you.

Your smile grew when one of the workers who was your partner approached your place in the box to whisper something in your ear, you left your place following him towards the warehouse.

Anger consumed him quickly, refusing to continue standing there observing the obvious, possibly he was being irrational and he knew it but the constant insinuations of Jimin. The conversations with Taehyung, his words, his suspicions, the pleased looks from they when he fell back at his feet asking them to tell him what to do with you.

With his damn relationship.

Where were you and him. Not them. You and he.

He opened the door to your room and started going through your things like a degenerate, something must have made him sure that you were cheating on him. Something, a letter, a note, a gift from him, or a simple cheap jewel.

This was your Yoongi? You were clearly looking at another subject.

"Yoon..." You started, his eyes coldly piercing you. He looked different, he was looking at you but you didn't feel safe being so close. "What are you doing?"

"What do you think I do?" He asked how else he will not point to the obvious, for a moment you thought that even if it was, out of respect or dignity, he would try to deny it or find another explanation for his actions so offensive to you. "Where is?"

"Where is what?" You claim, starting to get angry, his eyes leave you again as he continues searching through your drawers, dropping everything to the floor with thudding noises. You get closer trying to push it away but you only get rejection. "Stop it, Yoongi."

"Not until you say so."

You freeze without knowing what he meant by the latter, you take his arm to stop him but you only receive a push that makes you back away this time scared by the force of his attack. "Enough!" You claim this time by making him look at you with his cold eyes. "I don't know what you're talking about and why you're doing this, but enough."

"Then say it..." You shout again that you don't know what he wants you to say, you even curse furiously making him come closer to support your shoulders with his hands bringing you closer to his face. "Say it damn it! Say you're cheating on me with that bastard son of a bitch!"

You feel the pain of his grip, you sob, begging him to release you but are ignored as he continues to ask you to say so. You refuse to lie, especially with something so degrading.

Jin hears the screams as he continues serving the dinner desserts, Jungkook strangely puts aside his phone for a few minutes to thank him with a small toast and a smile that was rarely seen on him.

"The dessert tonight is sweeter than usual."

Jimin raises his glass with a bright smile, Namjoon adjusts his tie tied perfectly around his neck as he sips from his glass, Hoseok laughs eating the delicious cake with enthusiasm.

Curious, a green tea cake with cream on top.

"It's a shame Yoongi-hyung misses out on dessert." Taehyung speaks pretending a pout on his lips, playing with his spoon with the cream on her plate. "It is especially exquisite today."

"Stop playing already, when will you do it? I'm looking forward to getting started." Jin snaps angrily, pushing the cake out of her sight as he drinks from her wine glass.

Jungkook laughs, turning his phone back on to continue playing as usual. "So impatient, hyung." He says he with a click of annoyance.

Jin rolls his eyes, following her gaze to Jimin who is innocently cowering in her chair. Ignoring how completely obsessed Jungkook is with his games, it really was not his business,for something his youngest friend had his parents, who were too busy with their work, they ran the largest electronics factory in the country, leaving his son in the background just giving him everything he asked for without objection. Always showing a smile when little Jungkook came before them demanding a new console or the best phone.

"It only remains to wait..." Whispering, he released a patient Hoseok. His smile as charming as ever. "For her to decide what to do and then... Plot! She fell into the wrong well."

"I hate when you describe and talk like that, but I can't expect much from a Jung... like you."

However, Hoseok never stops smiling even when anger is consuming his mind causing him to clench his fists under the table and bite his tongue inside his mouth, hidden by his gleaming and visible teeth. Namjoon smiles at her, knowing that she managed to provoke him but that she won't do anything to shut him up.

"Pathetic."

Motherfucker.

Jin breaks the tense silence, shushing everyone with a snap. That silence. Nobody hears anything from you or Yoongi, for a moment they feel the anguish that something bad has happened or that his friend has lost a bit ... The hand. But just seconds later you're rushing down, wearing the same clothes and your face covered in tears. You don't even look at them when you run to the door, leaving a trail of emptiness behind you.

"Hm, intense." This is Jungkook speaking, his eyes still lost on the phone screen of him playing a silly online championship. "She will be fine after hours."

"Jungkook is right, now we must move with Yoongi."

Namjoon gets up walking to your room, surprised that everything seems almost the same as it was before their fight.

He smiles when he manages to see his friend laying on the floor sobbing, and like that children's book called Pinocchio, he feels good being that cricket-shaped voice of reason. Only this time that sweet and serene voice, released one and a thousand blasphemies that would contaminate even the most devout by his beliefs.

He managed to convince Yoongi's easy to manipulate mind, blurting out words almost like a song. Playing with the naive self of hes that still lived and breathes inside him.

You had come home after days of spending with Ari and her boyfriend away from him. You really didn't want to set foot in that house again in years, a small irrational part of you believed that it was all his fault, your real problems started when you set foot in that damn place.

You open the door observing the room in the same way, empty. You try not to make yourself feel ready to go to sleep, without having been able to do it in days, but now you doubted that it would be different here.

You remain static in view of everyone, you had forgotten that at that time they were having dinner together. They only met once a day and it had to be right there.

"Good evening, sorry to interrupt." You ignoring Yoongi's gaze that, he's trying not to get too excited about your return, even though she causes he to euphoric whirl. "Carry on, I'll just go to my room."

"Please no, sit with us."

"I'm not well."

"I insist, sit with us. They were difficult days but I know they can fix it." Jin puts a plate in front of one of the empty chairs, you refuse to sit down but you do it out of compromise.

Everyone seems to be exclusively quiet, dinner was gray, like a black and white painting. Remember the first dinner, where everyone seemed to have so much to say and now that was left behind, Jungkook continues to play with his phone sometimes moving his plate by accident, without touching a single silverware with the intention of eating. Jin eats in peace, so slowly that he is strange. Namjoon reads a book in his hand, eating so cleanly that it's amazing.

Hoseok looks at you playfully from time to time, with a smile that almost makes you smile the same. Jimin and Taehyung seem to communicate silently, they both look at each other with slight grimaces and smiles.

"We can talk?" Yoongi whispers, you feel her breath next to you and instinctively you walk away scared. Still hurt by her actions and attitude, you give your vow of silence by standing up and without saying goodbye, you walk up the stairs.

"How rude." Jungkook interrupts, keeping an eye on his screen lighting up his beautiful face. "He didn't even taste the food."

Yoongi looks at Jin, her oldest friend and the one she trusted the most, seeking some advice. But just gets the same treatment as always, a look insisting that go with you and try to fix her mistake.

However, it was late. You had packed a makeshift suitcase by going down as quietly as you could, exiting through the back door like a thief or a fugitive.

You spent days thinking about your cowardly way of running away, but in the same way you felt better and even more so when you did not receive any message from him. Maybe it wasn't that important to him, it hurt but it also relieved you.

You knew it would be awkward to see him in the face again, but you should go back and get your things over with as soon as possible. You naively thought of forming a friendship, a very distant one, but in the end it would be the healthiest thing for both of you.

"______?" Asked the person who opened the door after you barely managed to ring the bell due to nerves, he was clearly confused.

"W-good morning ... Jin." You greet by taking a few steps back to get a better look at it, you had forgotten how tall it was. "Sorry to bother I just wanted to -..."

"Talk to Yoongi? I'm sorry but he's already better without you, he even met someone new." You were surprised by his austere, sour tone and trying to intimidate you. "And you better go, you are not welcome here."

"No ... No, I-I came for my things but I'm glad to know that it's better now, and that ..." The words stayed in your mouth, almost as if it hurt to admit it. "I was able to find someone, I hope we can be friends. Also with you, I'm sorry I left without explaining or saying goodbye properly."

You waited what seemed like ages for her response, and you expected more than a simple nod of the head, letting you pass without a hitch. You searched your room quickly, trying not to have any contact with any of them for now. You opened the door that had your name on it but you were scared by what you found inside, the whole room had been painted blood red, a very dark color that managed to give you such familiar chills.

"What is this? Where are my things?!" You turned around ready to go and claim but the door closed behind you with a stormy noise. You ran to try to open it but it did not move an inch, you searched the whole room for something useful to help you but it was completely empty, and alone.

You sobbed in fear, not understanding what was happening and why it seemed that the walls were getting narrower every second. You fell to the ground, trying to stay calm and without losing your goal, hours and even days passed for you, you waited to hear at least one noise but everything was so quiet that you had to avoid going crazy, you played with your hands trying to distract yourself and think positive things, you had read many books about stressful situations to know that thinking a lot about those things caused even more stress, you lie on the floor sure that a nap will calm everything down, if it was a nightmare you wanted to wake up and if not , you wanted to dream that it was.

A lock, you hear that particular noise and you wake up. You open your eyes as fast as you can lifting your body, the door was slightly open as if someone was exiting. You scream for help but it closes, you fall back into sadness and despair screaming even more for your freedom.

You didn't deserve this.

You look with regret at the delicious food they left for you, for a moment you think about going on a hunger strike but your stomach demands you not to be so stupid. The same would not change anything. Regardless of manners, you eat as fast as you can, dropping quite a bit of food on the ground in your rush.

It had an exquisite taste, and you could recognize it everywhere. It was one of your favorite dishes, you felt disgusted to compare it to your mother's food, but as magnificent as it was, it reminded you so much of her.

You wait for something to happen, but minutes go by in which you just look at nothing, letting your head fly. Thinking of a thousand things, playing with the spoon and singing in a low voice.

You feel hot from one moment to the next, your vision becomes cloudy and the door opens again. You just stay in the same place, you don't care about anything, not even how they hold you by helping you walk into another room.

"You were right, she is very calm now."

You look at him, their faces so familiar and you try to place them, but your head is flying away at that moment. You close your eyes laughing, and drifting into unconsciousness.

You wake up. You open your eyes and you are tied, you struggle with the ropes that hold your arms while the bed below you makes your body bounce. You touch the sheets realizing that they are extremely soft, you are in an unfamiliar room surrounded by scarlet red, with elegant and shimmering decorations. You try to stand up but your legs, like your hands, are tied.

And you're still quiet because of the rag in your mouth.

You fight the bindings furiously, screaming into the cloth as much as you can get sick of being locked up again.

You think of Yoongi, although at that moment it was irrelevant you wonder where she is and if she knew that she was being kidnapped in such a way, would she help you at least? Resignation covers you completely, fighting the bonds again with such force that you feel like they burn your skin every time you move.

You sob, just as he did one fall day.

Yoongi watches you from the monitor in another room, Jin is talking to Namjoon to the side while Jungkook is still sitting in a corner entertaining on her phone. Jimin, Taehyung, and Hoseok seem reluctant to look at each other despite facing each other.

Remember the day, the one in the past, when he met them. Jimin and Taehyung were already friends playing in one of the children's castles, with their hands pretending to be weapons as they ran around. Hoseok was sitting next to his mother, talking and apparently they had a lot to say. Namjoon did not detach from the side of his father who urged him to go up to the games, while Jin was busy collecting Flowers in a basket that his grandmother was holding.

They were all strangers and even more so he, felt out of place surrounded by so many games and away from home. His parents had freed up a whole day to spend together in a decent park, it was several hours of travel from Daegu to Seoul only for his son to play in a beautiful park surrounded by luxurious buildings.

He dropped down next to her mother, hugging her without wanting to let her go.

"Min Yoongi, we didn't take this trip just for you to sit there all day, son."

"I'm scared..." he whispered, biting her lip and hiding her face in the neck of his beloved mother.

"I see... but the games look so much fun. Run and try them, love."

He nodded still uneasy, walking over to one of the swings where he sat rocking so slowly that he seemed still. He felt hands pushing his body from behind, scared he looked at the boy behind him, he had a smile on his face and waved him with a hand.

"Sorry, I thought you needed to be pushed." He spoke and did not seem at all nervous.

"I'm fine, but thank you..." There was a momentary silence before he interrupted again. "I am Yoongi."

"Hoseok, although my mommy calls me Hobi."

He smiled, offering himself this time to push the swing, they spent minutes like this just helping each other take a walk pleasantly. He didn't even think about it when Hoseok offered to talk to Jimin and Taehyung about how they'll all play together in teams.

Now in the present, he smiled again remembering how he met Jin that same day, he had collided with him when he was running so as not to be caught by Jimin. His older friend was flushed with anger, screaming for her flowers and his dirty clothes. His grandmother teased him a bit making him deny even more, he followed Yoongi for several minutes until the chase because of her desire to hit him became a game.

They both fell to the ground tired, laughing before Hoseok introduced himself to Jin. Namjoon arrived shortly after, curious about the commotion and why he had gotten bored of sitting for so long, as he explained later. Besides that his father didn't have the best conversation starters.

He cried so much that very day when he had to go home again, promising to return soon.

"We have everything ready, are you ready?" Jin stood next to him, his eyes looked at him but he couldn't recognize his childhood friend. The same one that he offered to organize his birthday parties when his parents could not afford them, the same one that he never took advantage of his money to lower it. The one who hugged him as many times as he could when he came out of his therapies after his parents died.

Who was this man?

"Y-yes." He murmured still stunned. He got up, following in his footsteps with his head lowered.

They opened the door showing him, you were distracted biting the cloth in your mouth and trying to move your hands to free them.

Your body felt the same repetitive chill making you look at them feeling their presences so... uncomfortable.

"Enough." Jin ordered as you continued your insistent useless movement, trying to free yourself. "I'm not playing around, stop."

Me neither, idiot. You clench your teeth as much as you can at not being able to say it out loud, you stubbornly keep moving even faster than before. Your hair falls on your face from your busy tossing and you stare at him, challenging his patience and judgment.

You try not to tremble when he approaches you with intentions that deep down manage to scare you. But you continue, the bed moves as fast as you do until his hand falls against your cheek causing a gasp to come out of your gagged mouth.

"Hyung!" Yoongi claims holding her hand to prevent her from trying to hit you again, you feel the particular burning on your right cheek and the tears growing back in your eyes. "Please, no blows. That was not what we agreed on."

Jimin cleared his throat, a satisfied smile on his face, "We never specified anything, actually... Yoongi-hyung."

"Jimin is right, you never specified any kind of restriction for her and us." Namjoon clarified making you look at them confused, it was as if they were talking in terms of employment or contract.

But you had never signed anything.

"B-but they can't do that, they'll never accomplish anything if they force her." He tried to persuade him but Jungkook sighed, dropping his phone to the ground and then stepping on it like it was worthless. "She will just hate them."

"She will do it anyway, if we let her off her or try to convince her to stick with sweet words she won't think twice and she will run away ready to report us for kidnapping."

"In addition to the damages that she suffered here." Namjoon continued to condemn Jungkook, uplifting her surname and her family's status.

"You are in this with us or against us, there is still a free place in the basement for you with chains just as heavy."

Again, the same chill ran through you causing you to cringe in your place. These men were insane, they were capable of betraying each other, and worse, they could possibly also consider shooting themselves in the back when they weren't looking at each other. All for you, as if you were some kind of prize for winning and owning.

After moments that seemed eternal, Taehyung was releasing your mouth as you began to complain about what they were doing, how they dared and demanding freedom.

Really a classic, so much so that it was witty and hilarious that you said it literally.

They forced you to kneel on the ground with your hands on your legs still perfectly tied. More questions filled your mouth not knowing what they were planning, all you could do was look at them so scared it was adorable.

"Uh... Well... I guess one should go first." Jin says, taking a few steps away from your crouched figure.

Jimin stepped forward, standing in front of you causing you to look up from your spot below him.

"What are you doing?" You ask weakly, you try to drag yourself away when his hand struggles with his pants to remove it but Jin holds you in place. Getting on his knees to speak into your ear softly.

"You better take a breath instead of trying to run away, honey. I thought you were smarter... hm?" He laughs mocking your scared face, you refuse to open your eyes and mouth making him stop laughing in annoyance.

Jimin sighs taking your face in his hands so roughly that they will surely leave a purple mark on your skin. He was still dressed, I was hoping I could humiliate you more and then fuck your mouth until you suffocate while his hyung explains everything to you. How it all started, his obsession, his plan, they had planned everything so perfect that it was terrifying, everything monopolized on one board.

Soon as soon as possible you will just be a cute housewife and you will forget your life before that day. Not for nothing did they have a closet full of cheerful and homely outfits ready for you, they wanted to destroy you and then put you back together just to serve them.

You would be his wife, of everyone.

"Come on, little bitch..." Jimin started, reaching over to kiss you on the lips even though you refused to do so. You really no longer had a vote or a word of objection in his plans. "Open your eyes darling, you don't want a stray bullet to land in your mother's skull, do you?" He threatened making you obey even more scared than before.

"P-please don't hurt my mother!" You sob, clasping your tied hands in supplication.

"Oh, we won't.... yet." He whispered kissing your lips one last time before imposing himself on your kneeling body. Her cock came out of her pants, stroked a few times before guiding it to your lips. Your stomach contracted, and you pulled your face away as far as you could before Hoseok held you by the hair tightly pulling you close again. "Take it, baby. Everything will be fine if you just obey."

"I hate them, they disgust me" You whisper before Jin forced you to open your mouth making you take it, you fight for a few seconds but her hips are already moving making you choke and gasp. His moans are so loud they make you squirm but his hands hold your head close to him.

"I told you you'll take a breath, but you're a dumb whore." His breath is hitting your neck directly, your skin crawling trying to distract you from anything other than Jimin's cock in your throat causing you to gag and vomit. "I bet you're wondering why, what did you do, and nothing really. Or if Yoongi!"

You do not look at your boyfriend before, you only focus on Jin who smiles, caressing your body with his hands, almost exceeding your limits. However, what did it matter if he did it, there was nothing you could do for yourself.

"You were only here, I think we all loved you from the first moment we saw you. We spent many nights wondering what was special about you, many of us had dated women before but you... You were so different, you had something that attracted us and it made us go crazy. " His hands squeezed your breasts causing you to gasp on Jimin's cock who moaned with pleasure, continuing his steady and hard rhythm. "Taehyung got involved in the matter. "

Jimin smirked when your eyes went up to him, your eyes showing how angry and helpless you felt. And it was exquisite.

"I bet you didn't know about your beloved boyfriend's background,locked up in a rehab center for alcoholics for two years. Three years taking therapy for his depression after the tragic death of his parents, quite strong actually." His words had such a strong past but from his mouth they came out as if it were not so important. Something common for him. "I'm surprised he loved you so much and didn't tell you."

You cried unable to turn your face to look at him, deep down you wanted to put Yoongi aside and not hate him for this. But it seemed almost impossible when he was there, doing nothing, so calm that it was unreal that he had ever looked at you directly and declared his love to you over and over again. For months.

"He really was fine for a while until we decided to make him fall again, one drink after another... First trust him, then question their relationship and finally make them argue." A laugh left his lips, it was almost uncomfortable that he was the only one doing it. Everyone else was so quiet just watching. "But I can't give myself all the credit, let me introduce ourselves well, my dear."

Jimin walked away from you letting you breathe again, you had almost forgotten that he had been doing that act against you. Your tied hands help you hold off the ground by not being able to breathe properly, you feel so weak that you are about to pass out but you refuse to look weak in front of them.

"Kim Seokjin, son of the best chefs in the country and heir owner of thousands of five-star restaurants, inside and outside the country." His body crouched down, making an extremely long bow. Namjoon stood next to him, with the same smile from the day he met you. "Kim Namjoon, the only and adored son of the best lawyers and mayoral candidates, future presidents if occasion permits." There was a strange tone behind his voice, with a knowing wink. "I thought you can guess what Hoseok's parents do, but I'll tell you just in case. Great psychiatrists recognized for their countless achievements outside and within the country, having a tradition from generation to generation, capable of manipulating even the cleverest mind like yours."

Hosoek smiled at you, but this time his smile showed malice and pride. All that time you were surrounded by people who wielded a certain power and influence, oblivious to the fact that they could ever use it against you.

"Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung... Maybe you heard about their surnames on the news two years ago? Families specialized in medicine, their knowledge dazzles science and biology. Before allies and now both surnames are enemies competing for the market, but who would say that their children would meet secretly and use their same knowledge to retain a precise treasure." His hand stroked your hair causing you to recoil angrily, with a grimace of disgust and resignation. "Well... Finally Jungkook, son of the best technology creators in the country. Capable of creating anything, millionaires obviously, like everyone. Faithful lovers and devoted to he son, giving him everything he wants. " He stopped for a moment and then brought his hand to your ear taking out one of your earrings, you looked at him confused before he opened it showing a tiny device that lit up. "Even creating a more than wonderful device, a tracker of the smallest size."

You opened your mouth completely petrified, looking at each and every one of them. Most of them had a firm and conceited posture, but your eyes only looked at him.

"Were you in on this?" You ask by moving your body slightly, Yoongi only remains silent, avoiding looking at you at all costs, even if it is out of mercy you demand a simple word. "Speak! Tell me! Tell me!" You scream completely out of control, letting out all your frustration and anger with him, just him. It's all his fault. "Tell me now! To finally be able to completely hate them all... Please tell me, I just want to stop inventing and fooling my head trying to justify why you are standing there doing nothing for me" You sob almost exhausted, " Without helping me, when before you said you love me."

His eyes meet yours a few seconds before Jungkook chimed in, completely certain that you were trying to play your manipulation cards to get rid of them. Funny, they had done the same to catch you, their hyung could sometimes be so... credulous. That it was ironic that she was older than him.

"Good enough talk for today." He demanded, causing you to hide your head again in fear. You were so scared, even with the pain in your cheek and jaw from being forced by Jimin, you would never give up on them.

Your mouth felt dry, you couldn't remember the last time you drank water alone. As if they could read your thoughts, Taehyung appeared with a tray with a glass of water and a purple pill.

"Take that away from me." You scream when he tries to put the pill in your mouth, backing up as far as your bound legs will allow.

He sighs bored, as if he doesn't have the patience to deal with it, "If you want water you'll have to do this."

"What is it?" You ask almost breathless from the lack of water in your body, he smiles before bringing the pill to his face to look at it rolling it on his finger.

"Hm... Vitamins." Respond after hesitating. "Everything you need in one compact little pill. It was an invention by Jimin and me, we were hoping you would be the first to try it."

A few seconds ago you remember hearing about the reputations of both families, they were specialists who probably passed that knowledge on to their children. If they knew what they were doing with them, they would be shocked. Your reasoning tells you no, to throw it away and try to run away but your head and body can't take it anymore, they demand water and a rest.

"I-it's okay." You accept, removing the pill and the glass of water from the tray angrily. You put the pill in first, then the water so hard your mouth hurts from the force.

You return the glass silently, eyeing him suspiciously before sitting back down and walking a few inches away. You wait for everyone to do something, but they stay so still as dolls that it scares you, everything about them and their attitudes was creepy.

I wish you had noticed earlier.

And now you feel it, it was not pain, nor anxiety. I was just calm, the noises seem to decrease and your vision does not blur but you feel so relaxed that you do not seem to be affected by any drugs. You could feel it all, but you didn't care.

It was relaxing but you weren't far this time, you remember the previous scenes. When you ate the food they gave you, it was similar but as if it had been modified so that you can remain docile and obedient, but at the same time you know what they are doing.

Your body falls on the bed, you don't even try to get up. Your brain isn't thinking about that, it just gets distracted by the decorations around it, but it clearly perceives one of them nearby. Namjoon is behind your body lying face down, half is on the bed and your legs are still kneeling on the floor. You feel his kisses so desperate on your neck, his hands touching your breasts and stomach trying to lower himself further, anxious not to wait to fuck you as he always wanted and should have been.

You do not fight when his legs open yours with force and speed, you just stand still, thinking with your head glued to the soft sheets of the bed, deep down you can slightly feel your desire to push him and push him away furiously, you want to do it but not you do. You feel so confused that you sob into the sheets in released frustration.

"I thought I heard from you, that her wouldn't refuse anything with his stupid pill." Jin whispers, disgusted seeing you struggle with yourself in search of reason.

"I don't see her deny it." Jimin retorts, crossing his arms with a small victorious smile.

Yoongi stands aside, not wanting to accept this but likewise, like you, does nothing to avoid it while Namjoon sinks deep inside you causing you to writhe overwhelmed and let out a groan of pain, your mouth opens to complain and probably ask him to stop, but he instantly closes again only releasing more gasps and squeals.

They spend minutes with all eyes on you, taking the cock of her friend who abuses your sore pussy from overstimulation, this time you are crying and begging for mercy to stop. Even in your unconsciousness you continue to feel all the pain and also the pleasure that is now almost non-existent.

"S-stop!" You cry between gasps of exhaustion, your hands had been released by Jungkook seconds ago so that you can hold on properly. However, you only use them to try to ward off Namjoon who is holding you against the bed by slamming his body against yours with obscene noises. The bed squirms like you, colliding with the wall in sync.

"A little more baby... Just a little more... And I'll fill you with my cum, so fucking tight. You like that, hm?" Her breath very close to your cheek makes you react, you squeeze your eyes almost suffering from your next inevitable orgasm. You scream making everyone watch you fascinated by how your face contracts with pleasure and pain, you try to walk away when the moment of ecstasy recedes, but he continues to fuck you bareback hard, selfishly chasing the release of him against you.

You spent hours repeating the same routine, sometimes sometimes even more hours than you can remember or count.. Your body was completely covered with bruises and marks not only made by them manually, you had discovered in the worst way that Hoseok had a great fetish to make small cuts to any animal or person that had skin and that glistening blood came out of those wounds, red as hell and as sweet as ambrosia.

A delicacy, truly a true delicacy blessed by God.

Jin could not stop laughing at your overwhelmed face, sometimes he would sit next to you while your body was fucked uncontrollably, watching your face move on the sheets with the constant and hard movements of his friends.

"Do you enjoy it, you dirty bitch?" You knew he was making fun of it, not only because it denigrated your dignity, but also because you couldn't answer correctly and the only thing that moved was your head up and down from the thrusts. As if you were affirming his disgusting words. "You like it right?" And again. "I bet you will enjoy it every day from now on, do you want to marry us, little bitch? Be ours forever, that we fuck you every damn day like that, that we also fill you up that you would get pregnant, you would have our children , and you would gladly. Do you accept _______?"

You did not want to know where he managed to get your last name, nor your full name and less because he thought that after the effect of whatever they had given you, you would really accept being his damned wife.

But he just stands there, watching Jungkook abuse his new power against you and taunt him.

I just wanted to wait for everyone to leave, so I could hug you, heal you, and ask for forgiveness.

He couldn't save you if he was chained to the basement like they threatened to do. He was afraid of his own friends, who looked at him madly when hours before he thought of withdrawing from the plan, Hoseok as charismatic as he always claimed to be able to cut his neck so easily if I took you away from them.

Now, they were doomeds.

The painting lost its color once more.

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deepdarkdelights · 2 years

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Merry meet! I hope you had a happy holidays and a smooth transition into the new year!

I fully support you if you do a sequel to run little red or another yandere werewolf or hybrid au! Run Little Red is a personal favorite of mine bc it has my top favorite Grimm fairytale and Namjoon and your beautiful writing style! ☺️ also Namjoon as a yandere werewolf just hits hard

Not at me reading Mistletoe way after the holidays but this was a pretty little present! 😄 I was delightfully surprised to see that it’s a sope fic! I love their dynamic and the mc’s perceptions of them and then how her perception switches and the way I was anxious and nervous the entire time right alongside the mc. Hoseok in that last image though with the mistletoe above him and wanting to “unwrap” the mc is so terrifying and ominous! Meanwhile, even the mc was more uncomfortable around Yoongi at first, he was just so soft? 🥺 And even though I was buzzing from the anxiety of the mc trying to escape, I laughed when Yoongi was like “give me one sec *rolls up sleeves and pulls open a frozen shut door* after you :]” I was equal parts nervous because he’s advancing on her and laughing because of the image of him strolling up to a frantic mc and just pulling the door in one pull, a lovely and foreboding display of his strength. But, I guess the mc now has a new reason to hate Christmas and the holidays? 😅

Thank you so much for writing and sharing this lovely sope story with us! ☺️ also, I love your new banner and pfp! I love your in-the-woods theme and how ominous and eerie it looks. Plus, are those the forbidden fruit’s flowers? 👀 anyway, I hope you have a lovely day/night and a happy and healthy year ahead of you! ~With love, your lil 🖤 delight

Hello my lovely lil 🖤 delight!

I had a great holiday, I hope you did as well! I am excited for this new year I would say, I hope to make some changes in my life.

I am such a sucker for werewolf au's and there are not nearly enough yandere werewolf au's out there, well at least for me I feel like I have read them all hehe. And you're so right, Namjoon as a yandere werewolf just hits so right! I love a good alpha Joon fic 😫

Oh that's totally okay that you read it after the holidays, there were plenty fics that I didn't get to until after the craziness of the holiday season.

That was one of my favorite parts to write because Yoongi was so carefree, he was like "yeah, there is no way she's getting out of here but I appreciate the effort,"

Poor MC really isn't going to enjoy the holidays at all 😂

Ah yay! I'm so glad you like my banner and my theme, I just love the colors and the forest it's so pretty. And you're right, those are the forbidden fruit flowers! They're just so pretty and they filled the space so well.

I hope you have a lovely day/night as well! Ily my dear 💜💜💜

#asks #my anons #🖤 anon #mistletoe

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jimlingss · 3 years

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hi kina!! i absolutely love your awards post! i think it’s so creative. but i want to ask you a few additional questions. which fic (for each member) did you have the most fun writing? which fic (for each member) did you have the hardest time writing? which fic (for each member) has the best couple relationship? AND FINALLY, which fic (for each member) is YOUR personal overall favorite?

for me, my overall favs would be:

seokjin: fall in hatred

yoongi: tears of a villain (ALTHOUGH the truth between us and flames and floe were soo close)

hoseok: a memory without you (i’ve read this like five times and get the butterflies every time)

joon: a voyage to liberation (BUT inside my mind and ghost in the machine were also good contenders)

jimin: a kiss of poison (i’ve read that ten separate times and cry every single time)

tae: moirai (this fic really helped me get back into reading again)

jk: a piece of the moonlight (my fav fic on your blog. i’ve read it…. countless of times. to the point that i can quote the first three paragraphs LOL)

anyways, i have to thank you for making me look forward to fridays (and occasionally) mondays. i feel so lucky to have somehow stumbled onto your account three years ago. and i’m even happier that i’ve chosen to stay. good luck on your future journeys, kina. with your incredible worth ethic and very apparent wrinkly brain, i know you’ll get very far!

Damn anon, those are some extensive questions LOL first of all, super interesting to hear your favourites so thanks for sharing!! and you're very welcome. I'm happy to make anyone's Mondays and Fridays better! Thank you for the well wishes as well :')

I had the most fun writing:

Seokjin: The NewsCasters (bc I love this couple and the story was plentiful in terms of plot so I never got stuck).

Yoongi: She's Testosterone (it was just hilarious. although it's a huge contender with The Truth Between Us bc writing with guyi was such a pleasure and was certainly easier than writing on my own)

Hoseok: Head Over Heels to Hell (it was fun doing historical research)

Namjoon: Inside My Mind

Jimin: Azure Blue (shoutout to A Serpent's Flower, Magic & Mysteries, and The Art of Benefits)

Taehyung: Love So Shallow

Jungkook: Sugar and Coffee (although Dynasty is also a contender)

Overall though, I would rank these choices, in terms of enjoyment, as Yoongi > Seokjin > Jimin > Hoseok > Namjoon > Jungkook > Taehyung

Hardest time writing:

Seokjin: Arcadia (Wrote it during my slump, hence Kitchen Romance is also a contender. I also wrote that during my slump.)

Yoongi: Ducklings & Dimples (it's just a lot)

Hoseok: Sunshower (at the time I wasn't used to writing smut. Beyond Reach is runner-up. It's so angst-filled.)

Namjoon: Brass & Strings (pretty sure I stopped twice to write other things lol)

Jimin: A Kiss of Poison (it's sooo long)

Taehyung: The President's Son

Jungkook: You've Got A Dog in Me (I wrote this when I was working at the deli and it was really tough for me. Time-wise and struggle-wise)

Overall, I'd rank these choices as Jungkook > Namjoon > Jimin > Taehyung > Hoseok > Seokjin > Yoongi

Best couple (what a fun category btw):

Seokjin: if it counts...the end.

Yoongi: Student Council Prez (but huge shoutout to The Third & Sixth and A Wish Out of Water)

Hoseok: Jungle Park (the answer here is obvious)

Namjoon: Inside My Mind

Jimin: The Art of Benefits (aka. the domestic couple who've supported one another from the beginning. shoutout to a huge contender Magic & Mysteries which is basically mischief + softness)

Taehyung: Game of Temptation?? (if it counts. they don't have a lot of 'screen time' together, but they're doms domming. together they'd fuck you to death)

Jungkook: Sugar and Coffee (my dumb and dumber couple uwu. they transcend being strangers to enemies to friends to lovers :'))

I'd rank these choices as Jungkook > Seokjin > Hoseok > Jimin > Yoongi > Taehyung > Namjoon

Personal favourite (this one's hard):

Seokjin: Foreverland (although The NewsCasters is a contender and if I didn't consider the end. an OT7 fic then that would be too)

Yoongi: A Wish Out of Water

Hoseok: Between Heaven and Hell (I will never not consider this my absolute masterpiece)

Namjoon: Inside My Mind (best smut I've ever written)

Jimin: The Art of Benefits

Taehyung: Love So Shallow

Jungkook: Sugar and Coffee (this series has been mentioned so many times on this post but lol whatever, I love it a lot!)

And these choices ranked....Hoseok > Jungkook > Namjoon > Jimin > Taehyung > Yoongi > Seokjin

#my brain is wrinkly for my two brain cells :')#this was really fun to do #thanks for asking me!#Jimlings

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ex-silent-reader · 3 years

Text

Happy Holidays fic recs

Happy Holidays everybody! I haven’t been commenting on posts individually like i normally like to so it’s kind of backed up a bit. I still really want to thank all the authors who have been sharing their stories with us and leave a lil itty bitty comment before I can expand on them for their own post so here’s that! Also I’ve seen a lot of undeserved negativity being spread to a lot of authors and I just want to thank you all for sharing your work on this platform FOR FREE and remind you that you literally owe us nothing and I’m super grateful that you continue to share with us. These are just some stories that I’ve read this week, i’d def like to do another of these soon :)

Disclaimer: I DO NOT own any of these stories, each story is owned by the author tagged next to the title and the summary is pulled verbatim from their page, in quotation marks. The only thing I own is gratitude towards these authors for sharing their work with us.

Also all stories are rated M

Also, a loooot of stories have come out lately and I haven’t had a chance to get to a lot of them yet but i hope to soon so I’ll hopefully make another one of these soon, but yea pls know that I’m not purposefully ignoring or excluding anything or anyone.

Jin;

last christmas | ksj x reader - @xjoonchildx

“ summary: it was bound to happen, eventually. after months of near misses at barbecues and birthdays, there’s no avoiding your ex-husband at hoseok’s annual christmas bash. but it’s fine, totally fine, because you’re both adults – and you’ve both brought dates and booze. what could go wrong? “

This story was amazing! First of all, I love the comedy surrounding the entire situation, Hobi with his 8 trees and instigator Yoongi who also wants them to get their shit together for Hobi’s sake. I love all au’s but sometimes exes to lovers is difficult for me to side with because I don’t see how people can bounce back from so much hurt but in this story it felt very natural how they were able to find their way back together and I really enjoyed the insight to their relationship, especially near the end.

Yoongi;

CREAM & SUGA - @snackhobi

“summary: yoongi is your favourite regular. he’s patient, polite, and predictable, a-large-black-coffee-to-go-please, no cream, no sugar, thank you. rinse and repeat. the seasons might change, but yoongi’s order stays the same.

and then one fateful day in winter, yoongi asks about the weekly specials, orders a cup of christmas and sugary sweetness, and everything starts changing.”

Ya’ll. Yoongi fics just truly hit different. The plot of this was so adorable and him going out of his way like that to keep her engaged was so cute and just very Yoongi like. I also just really loved the descriptions in this, like how oc described making the drinks, it just made everything seem so real.

universe | myg drabble - @personasintro

“❥𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔; you’re his whole universe, you just don’t know it yet – or him”

ASDFGHJKL! Like, I really have no words for the way this made me feel. Like, ik it’s not a super healthy dynamic but the thought of a fixated Yoongi is.. I loved reading Yoongi being so fixated with oc and doing everything i his capability to meet her. I also was v interested in the part where he bumped into her and she didn’t react the way he expected because it made me think about how he (or any character’s with his mindset) cope when the fantast and reality don’t match.

Hobi;

A Holly, Jolly Crisis (M) - @kpopfanfictrash

* Blog doesn’t allow copy/paste and I wanted to respect that*

This story made me feel so many things. Like there’s so many layers to it and both of their hurt, her visiting him and feeling betrayed while he felt pushed aside. This story was so complex and both characters had so many layers to them, but it’s still sooo well written and I was invested the entire time. Like, I genuinely can’t get my feelings out in a brief way so I’m looking forward to screaming about this in it’s own post.

Joonie;

my only wish - knj | m - @ppersonna

“✹ summary- There are few things you hate most in this world. Hornets, unnecessary fruit pieces in otherwise perfectly good jello, certain shades of orange… But nothing takes the cake more than two simple things. Christmas. And Kim Namjoon. So why did you agree to pretend to be Kim Namjoon’s girlfriend at his family Christmas party? Bah-Humbug. “

UM! Absolutely adored this story, of course it would be a fellow cream suit enthusiast who can bring so much justice to dreamy Joon. I loved how he was portrayed here and getting insight to both his and oc’s feelings made me root for them soooo hard.

new parent syndrome - @1kook

“ SUMMARY You love Namjoon, honest. But you love your daughter Hyejoo even more— it’s not a controversial sentiment when you know he’s the same way! —and going back to a regular adult life sans kids absolutely sucks. (Or so you thought.)”

The tag “dreamy husband joon” is extremelyyyy accurate. This story was just so cute and their relationship truly felt so intimate and lovely. Her being on the phone with Jimin while Joon was smash SENT me but it was also so hot like ASDFGHJKL that man can do no wrong tbh.

laundry day - @snackhobi

“summary: You’ve been letting your laundry pile up for a little too long. Fortunately, your neighbour Namjoon is there to lend you a hand. “

Pls this was so hot. Like, I’ve made it very clear thus far that I’m a total simp for Joon, the thought of that man going strawberry picking and thinking to grab some for oc genuinely makes me SWOON. He’s an actual heartthrob.

The Sweet in Sweet Potato - @sahmfanficbts

“ Summary: You’ve been roommates for years. Now that you’re catching feelings, it’s time to run away. “

This entire series has had me so invested but this chapter!!! I’m always a sucker for Joon but the way he was so clearly in her feels (for OC) but wanting to respect her need for distance, what a man. And I was so happy to see oc working through her feeling towards Joon.

Last Christmas (M) - @jjungkookislife

* Blog doesn’t allow copy/paste and I wanted to respect that*

Damn, I really love when a misunderstanding is such a big catalyst for a bunch of drama/angst. It just really ups the tension for me because as the reader I know it was a misunderstanding but clearly the character’s don’t, so it just makes me really eager to see how they make amends. I really enjoyed seeing them slowly make amends and grow. Also the buildup to them deciding to give the relationship another go made the ending soooo satisfying.

Jimin;

picking petals｜pjm - @taestybae

“ summary ↣ you asked for a baby, so a baby is what you’re going to get. “

I really have no words for this, like it was so asaifgjhhkc. First of all, I really enjoyed that it was through his pov, i don’t typically read stories like that (I just don’t often come across them) but this still felt so natural that I didn’t even realize until right now, writing this comment. Also, the imagery was so well described and the anticipation built made this story so enjoyable.

Taehyung;

Deepest Indulgence - @scribblemetae

“ Description/Summary: The world is a mess, gangs, violence and rates of poverty are at an all time high since corporations took over everything. You built your Sex house to be a safe place and a sanctuary for those in need, promising to protect anybody who needs it. What happens when an extremely attractive and very rich man walks through the door begging for a job at Deepest Indulgence? The one sex house that wasn’t meant for men like himself. “

I AM SO EAGER FOR THE NEXT CHAPTER TO COME OUT. Like, idk how I can even describe this correctly but this just feel so much like Tae...???? Like idk if that makes sense but just Tae being this v sensual man, but there still being more to him than that, just makes so much sense and even the word “indulgence” is just so sensual and reminiscent of him. Also, the storyline so far is something I’ve personally never seen before and I’m super invested in this world and story already. Very eager to see how their relationship progresses.

let it snow | kth - @suga-kookiemonster

* Blog doesn’t allow copy/paste and I wanted to respect that*

It’s the way I read this last night, it took me exactly an hour (3am to 4 am cause I’m a CLOWN), and I was so invested that I kept putting off sleep to finish it. Man, i’m a simp for this Tae (just like he is for oc lmao). I really enjoyed reading it and the mention of Jisoo earlier in the story had me on the edge of my seat the whole time wondering when things were gonna blow up. Everything was just so sweet and fluffy, and the confession really made me feel so soft for them both cause they both were so in their own heads and feelings they couldn’t see what was in front of them so I really enjoyed the confessions.

Jungkook;

Thank you, baby - @scribblemetae

“ Turns out the boy whos been stalking you for years has decided its about time he shows his face in the form of a picture, and decides its time to talk to you for real, in the form of a phone call. “

I genuinely don’t know how I can simp over this story in a short way but I’ll try my best. The characters are so complex and the storyline is twisted so many ways that make this so interesting to read and easy to become invested in. The way Jk is written, I understand why OC is lost on how to feel for him. Like, his actions are wrong, but actually meeting him and even seeing his though process, it’s hard to make him out to be the villian that his actions have categorized him as. I can’t wait to continue reading and write a full length comment about this!

FEED ME, FIGHT ME. @yeojaa

“ What do you get when you mix a pissed off girlfriend with a neglectful boyfriend? (Aside from trouble, that is.) “

I really enjoyed this, I love how aware of Jk and his boundaries the oc is and how she is cautious to walk the line and not push him too far while also letting him know how his actions make her feel. This just genuinely felt like a glimpse into a very real, very intimate relationship/moment and I loved that. I also just really love how this is written and I think you have a beautiful way with words.

Chapstick - @softyoongiionly

“based on the time Jungkook said he needed someone to scold him so he’d remember to put lip balm on. Or Jungkook’s had a really long day and the only that can make it better, is seeing you. “

Idk if I’ve ever said it before, but I just love how you write relationships. Like, I can feel how comfortable they are with each other and how natural being together is for them. With your stories generally it just never feels forced and I really love that. I also really liked that we got Jk’s pov in the beginning, getting to see how tense he was really made me eager for their interactions and for him to feel comfortable and calm with her. Their interactions just felt so cute and natural and the end, assdjfhi, jk really deserves to be cherished and I loved seeing oc get him to the point of relaxation.

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yournameyn · 3 years

Text

Feeling Deeply

Genre: Fluff so much fluff. Arranged Marriage fic.

Pairing: Namjoon x OC

A/N: Aaaaaa this is the first fic I'm posting ever ever. It's basically a way to follow the red thread of my desires. OC is named Brishti. She's Indian. She's Bengali & curvy & an introvert. This whole fic is 90% going to be a slow burn fluff fic about two introvert nerds getting to know each other. Seriously there's like hardly any real angst, maybe slight angst about okay when are these two going to bang - if you look very carefully but basically its just slooooow fluuuufff. Hopefully you all like it. Please let me know what you think. Current Chapter: This one is loooong. Remember this is all happening in the 1960s. OC & Namjoon are both really well off first gen immigrants. In this chapter we have our couple coming closer together - talking about some issues they've both had in their lives. Also this is the chapter where you'll get to know one of my favourite Namjoon songs and like why the OC is named what she's named. Also just a reminder because im a bit paranoid - Rim Jhim (referred to as Rim) is our OC Brishti. Its a pet name that's introduced in this chapter. And Namjoon being the wordsmith that he is makes it shorter, with the korean meaning of the word.

Previously in Feeling Deeply: Preface-ish Chapter 1

Chapter 2

And so it went for the next few days, the two of them quietly discovering each other. They were finding out the normal, casual, small things - how he didn’t like mint chocolate, how she loved bitter black coffee. Since both of them worked, they decided to split the chores at home. It worked out great because Namjoon liked to sweep & Brishti loved to do the dishes. They both struggled to cook but they decided to learn how to cook each other’s cuisines. So she was learning how to make kimchi (the green onion one) & he was learning how to prepare daal (the yellow one). They split the rent & decided to create a separate bank account for their savings. Talking about money increased warmth because they discovered that neither valued it excessively.

Slowly, they began talking about things a little more intimate. Meanings of names were revealed. She was impressed that his name meant genius. And he loved that hers meant rain. Pet names were introduced. He called her Rim - an even shorter version of her daak naam Rim Jhim. He told her to call him Joon. She looked away, smiling, then - silently telling him they’re not there yet. What he didn’t tell her was that he was already making up a fairytale about Joon, the genius & Rim, the brilliant jade that makes him so.

They spoke about books the most. Between them, they had half the globe's literature covered. She had read Indian authors & Russian & Spanish ones. He loved Korean authors, Japanese literature & all the Greek Classics. He geeked out about philosophy & poetry while she nerded over nature writing & music. They spoke about how they might take a look at other European writers & musicians together. To that end, Namjoon brought home a book of love poems by Rilke.

He hadn’t told her that he wrote poetry too. He hadn’t mentioned anything because it seemed like an indulgence of the past, poetry. But that night everything changed. After a late dinner, Brishti had asked to read aloud from the book he’d brought. As she read ‘To Music’, Namjoon saw tears float in her eyes. Secretly, something inside him had wept too. And just like that, he knew he would begin writing soon.

Each week the two watched late shows of classic hollywood musicals in a nearby theatre because they’d decided against a tv in their home - opting, instead, for a record player. Meeting for a movie each of the two Fridays they’d spent together so far was an experience both looked forward to - not only for the movie. In the darkness of the movie theatre, they experienced the first glimpses of intimacy. Soft smiles, whispering, silent glances, hands caressing each other. He loved how she laughed with abandon. She loved that he would tear up during the emotional scenes.

Her smile was getting wider, warmer toward him, Namjoon noted everyday. He’d been sleeping separately since their wedding night because he wanted her to feel safe. He was mostly okay with that except if he thought about it… If he thought about a time when he would get to touch her - Namjoon almost felt dizzy with feelings.

This happened the most when he saw her read by the window, he ached to touch her. That was her - Brishti - that was who she was at her core. Reading, running her fingers through her short hair, staring out the window, thinking, looking at clouds & then going back to reading. She was still quiet, but less so. She spoke about the rain and the trees and when she was happiest, he learned, when she really trusted that no one was going to judge her, she spoke about the moon. It had happened twice in the last few days.

He couldn’t stop looking at her. As though that needed reasoning, he thought about it at the office too. It wasn’t the only answer he could come up with but Namjoon had never seen a body like hers. She didn’t seem brittle or delicate, the way most women looked - or were “supposed to look”. She didn’t care what a body is supposed to look like, at least, it seemed that way to him. Brishti’s curves were not subtle. She was short and while almost everyone was shorter than him, Brishti was just… sexily so. She’d do these things… seemingly normal, everyday things but they would quickly, embarrassingly, inspire an arousal in him. Like, that thing she did, when she stretched after waking up or even if she stretched her arms or her neck… for some reason that turned him on so much, he’d have to hide… or excuse himself. His breath hitched, everytime he thought about how he hadn’t still actually seen her body.

Brishti, too, enjoyed looking at him from afar. Sharing, creating a living space with a man was never something she thought she would enjoy. They had exchanged the basic stories of how they had reached each other.

Namjoon had said, “I’d met a couple of women… girls… but they just seemed either plastic or porcelain… you know? I mean, not all of them could have been that but that's how they… presented themselves? You… I saw your photos in a pile that the matchmaker labelled ‘rubbish’”

“What?!”

“Yeah… I’m sorry but it’s actually a compliment to be labelled ‘bad’ by a matchmaker. That’s why I was looking in that pile in the first place… when I heard you wanted to keep working… Honestly I was so relieved...”

She smiled, “At least you got a look at me… I didn’t even know what you looked like till we met. I had no choice at all. A boy had agreed to marry me - despite… me… so that was the end of it. That was the bargain with my brother… otherwise I wouldn’t have been allowed to work either.”

“Wow… I’m so sorry, Rim. That’s really… really unfair.”

“Hmm yeah… I just figured if I can keep earning & the man turns out to be wrong, at least I can leave.”

“That’s… thanks for not leaving...”

Brishti smiled, “I got lucky...”

Namjoon understood, then, that Brishti might be an introvert but that did not mean she was shy. She made him blush & laugh. She made him speak without inhibition. The more time he spent with her, his feelings poured out.

“Thanks… It’s been really nice to share this home with you. Just to have you to talk to… My life was not going that great...” he said.

Brishti nodded, even though she already knew this. Whatever he said, strangely, she could see a deeper melancholy behind it. They spoke about being strangers in a strange country. She told him how she had to fight at the library for Tagore to be considered classic literature. How she was slowly but surely, being accepted in the oddball group that ran the library. She was not the only non-english person there, so things were easier for her. Besides, true readers had always been more accepting of the different.

Something made her regret sharing her happiness about this because his struggle in this foreign land was far more intense… she could sense pain behind the words he used. Namjoon did not enjoy his job the way she did. He worked overtime most days and came home bone-tired. Kim Namjoon was in many ratraces at the same time - races Brishti felt he didn’t want to participate at all. Being a lawyer, being an asian - the ‘model minority’, being a slightly well-off Korean in a sea of white men, in a sea of less fortunate asians who were being treated much worse than him. Trying to create a name, an identity of his own was wearing him out... chipping away at his soul.

Brishti sometimes saw him and saw a great banyan cutting itself down, trying to be a shrub just to fit in. When she asked him how his day was, he always smiled. It was real, the smile and yet it couldn’t hide the sadness in his eyes. Something that was beginning to bother Brishti more and more, these days. He... had begun to matter more and more these days.

Now, about two weeks into their marriage, she was experiencing butterflies about the smallest things; Things like watching him sleep on the fold out, bringing him coffee in the morning. She felt a pull deep inside her take over when he would come out of the shower in the bathrobe, skin glistening from the shower & musky man-scents launching her body in a fantastical arousal & her mind in overdrive. Somedays, Brishti even went for a shower after he’d been, just so she could soak in his essence & bathe in a trance she had never felt before.

On their third weekend together, Namjoon didn’t have to go to work the whole weekend. He’d spoken to his superior at the firm to let him have weekends free - after all, he was married now. Post lunch that Saturday, Brishti and he kept unpacking, organising while talking (well, later on, it was just coffee & talking) into the early hours of Sunday. They spoke about things they loved, people they had loved. About fictional crushes and real ones. Both of them spoke about their past relationships. Something Brishti was delighted about - especially since Namjoon told her he was not the type to hold someone’s past against them.

Brishti couldn’t believe it when Namjoon had correctly guessed, “It was the photographer, right?”

“What-?! How- Where- How did you…?” Brishti couldn’t even form a question.

“Your photos, at the matchmakers… something was different. All the other pictures women give out for arranged matches seem... fake. Yours were… real… private. You looked comfortable… looked like you were being teased...” What he didn’t say was how much it seemed in those pictures like she was with someone she truly liked… maybe even loved.

Sat on the ground opposite Namjoon, Brishti kept her gaze on him. It unnerved Namjoon that she could really see him. She unnerved him further when she said, “You should say what you aren’t saying… or… asking?”

“Did you love him?”

“Not really… it was just... a different kind of friendship… ended almost as soon as it began. But I- I don’t regret it. It wasn’t the kind of love-” she trailed off. She looked away, smiling but trying to hide it. The same way she had in the photograph.

He pressed further just to tease her “Kind of love...?” Namjoon was intrigued because she was blushing now & he wanted to plant a thousand pecks on her. Instead he said, “So you can just… stop what you were saying? Mmm. Okay. I see.”

She looked at him then, “I’m feeling… a lot… of… different things these days. Especially because of a couple of dimples...”

Just like that, she turned the tables & his dimples appeared. He blushed, “Yeah… same. I mean… you don’t have dimples but I’ve-”

She nodded to let him know she understood. And then asked, “Uhm... Have you… had sex?”

Namjoon bit his lip, “Yeah… yes. I... had a girlfriend in law school. It… uh… wasn’t serious… for her.”

Brishti looked away nodding, as if stopping herself from saying something.

He looked at her… knowing what she probably wanted to say. He wanted to hug her but he only said, “It doesn’t matter, does it? For me it doesn’t. Doesn’t matter if you’ve had sex too… I know how people can be about virginity… I- honestly… it's just another way to control people.”

She looked at him with a mixture of emotions. She took a minute to compose herself & then said, “I’ve never met a man like you… and it's a little confusing and annoying… Not that you are annoying… not at all. It’s just the world is annoying because this is how low the standard is for a man. A man accepting that the woman has a past makes him… forward…? But of course the woman has to… because, well, he’s a man and he has needs. We’re all told that… Shirley... who works with me… she knows it too. Women just aren’t supposed to talk about their pasts. All women.”

She paused & got flustered further because of how dedicatedly Namjoon had been listening. It really seemed as if he was taking notes. The serious expression on his face, it made Brishti's ears feel hot. Almost as a distraction, she went on -

“It's crazy but that seems to be the only thing THE WHOLE WORLD has agreed on - they can’t agree on one way to make bread but they all agreed that women are inferior. It’s such a basic thing to just let me work… because I want to… but it's annoying that it makes me feel lucky. My best friend had to go through hell because she thought she could trust her husband with the truth about her past… so it makes me feel lucky that… you won’t…”

Namjoon could see the pain in her words. Maybe that’s how she could always sense the pain in his words, he thought.

After a calming silence passed over them, he spoke - “I won’t. I don’t really know what it’s like for a woman. And… maybe you won’t like to hear this, but… I was the same, Rim... I was the man my society had trained me to be. Everything changed when I came here. When, for the first time in my life, I understood what it’s like to be treated inferior. Since then, I just… I cannot be the cause of a feeling like that within anyone... So… you’re right. I’m not doing anything everyone shouldn’t already do. All of this should be normal. Expected. Hopefully the world learns a bit faster…”

Brishti smiled at Namjoon. She chuckled when tears pooled up in her eyes. He instinctively reached out for her & placed a hand on her leg, just below her knee. A jolt went through Brishti and she looked surprised. He did too. Namjoon retracted his hand immediately & looked away, blushing. That’s when Brishti laughed out loud. She stood up. And asked him to stand up, silently.

He did. It always made Brishti’s heart flutter just how gorgeous and tall he was. Someday, she would tell him. Someday, she would show him. For now, she couldn’t help feeling bashful as she asked, “Can I get a hug, Joon?”

This was the first time she’d used the pet name that he’d asked her to call him by. This was what his family called him. And her using this name assured Namjoon of just that - she was becoming family. Her question had made his heart flip. He moved without really thinking, because this is what his body had wanted since the day he saw her. He pulled her up in his arms. He felt like he was melting. She was soft. Warm. Beautiful. And in his arms.

Brishti gasped a little when Namjoon had scooped her up in his arms. She was on her toes, literally & figuratively. She held onto him, less as a hug & more as support… at first. Then, she felt his arms… the strong arms that she had been ogling at, around her. It was as if a knot came undone, within her, suddenly. And in its place, the softest silk suddenly flowed through her body.

She closed her eyes and breathed him in. The same essence that she’d been soaking in after he had showered, that she had been breathing in whenever he would pass by or reach past her. The essence that she had now become so hungry for that she had been secretly sleeping with the shirt he’d worn from the laundry basket. That essence was now all over her. Her chin turned up, resting on his shoulders, her cheeks touching his, her hands - on their own - reached the nape of his neck and began to play with his hair.

When she did that, Namjoon held her tighter, pressed her on to him. He felt her body react to his. One hand reaching her shoulder around her back, he moved the other closer to her waist, so his hands could fold over her curves. He could feel her breath hitch when he did that.

Brishti was revelling in the feeling of his hands, his fingers, feeling his fingertips press into her - that was a feeling she could never have imagined making her so... so... drunk. She was drunk. She ran her hands up and down his vast back, all the way up to his hair. All of a sudden she could feel herself overcome with emotion. Tears began pooling in her eyes again. And she said, before it was too late, she said, “Thank you, Joon, for everything… thank you.”

When he heard the tremble in her voice, Namjoon pulled away, just so he could see her. Brishti quickly retracted too - to wipe off her tears, trying to laugh off the silliness, apologising. Namjoon replied, “It’s okay… I understand… I… Thank you, Rim. I hope you… you know what I mean...” What he wanted to say, what he hoped she understood was that she was what was helping him come alive. But being unable to, Namjoon knew someday he would. Someday soon.

Brishti nodded to say she understood. Namjoon tried to lighten the atmosphere, saying, “You’re not… just anyone, you know? So… maybe you should tell me something I could do which is… not just basic decency, but something that can be considered truly feminist, you know. I’d love to do that for you.”

Brishti smiled and nodded. She suddenly felt tired & almost of its own accord, her body stretched into a yawn. She said, “I’ll think of something. We- I should go now… Do you want- anything?...” Brishti was delighted about how drunk she had gotten from one hug. It was exciting that she knew she’d be sleeping with the sweater he had tossed in the laundry basket tonight. She decided to take a bit more time to enjoy being intoxicated without a substance, together and alone.

Later that night, as Namjoon laid on his fold out sofa, alone, he thought of how great it had felt to have Brishti in his arms. To have someone who wanted to know about his day. To feel her heartbeat, like raindrops, knocking on his chest like it was a window pane, almost as if asking to be let in…

Thoughts like these, they made Namjoon reach for the notepad & pen that he always kept close by. He wrote. He wrote of being world weary and suddenly having a friend. Suddenly feeling like the world wasn't rushing him, that he didn’t need to run, that he could take time, be slow, be a poet. His heart tugged at his pen as it wrote lines about what it felt like to have someone cry for him. To have someone be full of feelings for him, to have someone to embrace his weary body. He wrote about how he missed that embrace and yet it was okay… as long as she was still here, maybe not just next to him, yet. Maybe someday. It was okay because she asked how he was every day and Brishti was here, forever. Namjoon felt tears run down his own face, as he titled the first poem he’d written in almost five years - Forever Rain.

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Oooooh god you read it?! Thank you so much! Please please let me know what you thought! Get into my messages about it! I would love nothing more than to hear what you felt about this!

#bts kim namjoon #fanfic #namjoon fluff #namjoon arranged marriage #namjoon x oc #arranged marriage #slow burn #slow burn fic #fluff fic #bts fanfic #bts #indian oc #red thread fics #forever rain #brishti

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bonvoyagenoona · 3 years

Text

Office Hours (M) | 05: Project

Office Hours | Masterpost

Word Count: 11,471 | read on ao3

Rating: 18+ / Explicit / Mature

Content Warnings: Hard and soft smut, talk of cheating, arguments, Jeon Jungkook being a distracting little shit c’mon Jungkook I’m trying to write a Namjoon fic here get out of my brain

Summary

When you’re an early career researcher who has just broken up with the love of your life, who is desperately trying to keep your lab afloat, and who is still embattled in a years-long feud with the hotshot professor down the hall for the only tenured spot that will make itself available at this top tier university in at least the next decade, you really don’t have any choice but to save the emotions for another time. You don’t expect them to bubble up and out of you when you have a particularly rough day, and you certainly don’t expect refuge in the arms of your rival. But crazier things have happened in darkened hallways and behind closed office doors.

Chapter Excerpt

“Do you think we still have to keep this a secret?” you ask.

Namjoon raises his eyebrows.

“We’re not breaking any rules. And I feel like, well…” You shrug. “I feel like no one would really care if we were dating. Other than the two of us, I mean.”

Namjoon nods.

“Why did we keep it secret in the first place?” you dare to ask.

He shrugs. “Didn’t you want to, too? All the rules?”

“When we talked about it that first day, you were the one who said you wanted to keep things quiet,” you remind him. “I was just worried that we’d let it spill over into work. It kind of seems to be doing that anyway, but I don’t think it’s a bad thing anymore. I think it actually works for us. So… can’t we change your rule, too?”

He falls silent.

You aren’t sure why.

Taglist 💜: permanent @purpleheartsfortae @btseditsworld | office hours @iron-sass @jwlmnbt @spookyricewithsoysauce @bangtaened-army @aliceollormusic (reply here if you want to be added!)

05: Project

There’s a soft knock at the door. You, Yoongi, and Hoseok look up and see Namjoon standing there, grinning and holding up a bag of sandwiches.

You try not to gush too much as he walks into the lab and sets the bag down on your desk. You open it up and find that there are five sandwiches instead of the usual two.

You look up at him as he reaches in for two of the extras, tossing them over to Yoongi and Hoseok.

Yoongi looks at his sandwich skeptically before looking back up at Namjoon.

Hoseok has already torn into his. “Thanks! I was starving!” he exclaims, as he opens his mouth to take the first bite.

“Wait,” Yoongi says, holding his hand out to tell him to stop.

Hoseok pauses mid-air, mouth still open.

“What are these for, exactly?” Yoongi asks.

“For lunch,” Namjoon replies simply, shrugging.

Yoongi narrows his eyes. “But what are these really for?” he asks, looking over to you. He hates that you’re seemingly in on this. You chuckle softly as you dig in and let Namjoon explain.

“Well, I need your help,” Namjoon replies.

Yoongi frowns. “I knew it. You’ve been buttering us up for something all along.”

Namjoon looks over to you, and you just shrug, focused on quenching your hunger so that you can get through the rest of the day.

“Not really,” Namjoon responds, turning back to Yoongi. “At least, not until I bought those sandwiches.”

“What do you need help on?” Yoongi asks suspiciously.

Hoseok’s eyes are glued to his sandwich. He desperately wants to eat, but Yoongi’s palm is still up and facing him.

“A new project,” Namjoon tells them.

You and Namjoon have been riding the high of leveraging your collective brain power to whip the department into better shape. Everyone’s been inspired by the way you pulled everyone together through Yoongi’s dissertation. Professors are now not only sharing funds and resources, but ideas. Sejin is serving as an expert consultant on one of Adora’s projects, and Adora and Sejin are helping Hyo-won with additional recruitment from hospital populations using their professional networks.

And now, Namjoon has asked if you could work with him on a music and memory study, wanting to understand how memory capacity and function differs between musicians and non-musicians, and even bringing Jungkook in to help with recruitment. It serves everybody’s purposes. Everyone’s getting more chances at publications, you’re strengthening the professional and team bonds that you have with each other, and you’re helping introduce new students to the field.

Namjoon explains the details of the project to Yoongi and Hoseok, and you fill in the details on how your previous research is setting the stage for this new data collection.

“We’ve already submitted and gotten it approved by the IRB,” Namjoon adds. You smile. It’s the fastest you’ve gotten approval on a study, and that is usually the step that Yoongi dreads the most. All the seemingly unnecessary questions. All the back and forth.

Yoongi bunches up his lips, but he doesn’t look annoyed for once. He looks like he’s thinking.

“If we already have approval, and a strong recruitment pool, this data collection would only take about a week or so, depending on schedules,” Yoongi admits.

“Jimin and Taehyung would love to learn your methods, and they’ll be on hand to help,” Namjoon says.

Everyone watches as Yoongi absorbs this information.

He smirks.

His hand comes down and rests in his lap.

“I guess this will be my last project before my dissertation defense early next semester,” Yoongi says sadly, looking at you.

His words tug at your heartstrings.

“That’s exactly what I was thinking,” you say. “How do you feel about it?”

Yoongi smiles. He looks over at Hoseok, who sighs happily and bites his room temperature but still delicious sandwich.

“I guess that’s a yes,” you say, turning to Namjoon and grinning.

It’s exciting, sharing ideas like this. You like the idea of having a significant other who works in your field. It means that you have a shorthand for almost everything. Your wins. Your challenges. Your next steps. You can share every aspect of your lives together.

But that also means it’s getting harder to keep the boundaries intact.

You know you’re really starting to slip when Jungkook arrives for the first run of data collection. He’s becoming more and more involved in lab work, and you suspect it’s only a matter of time until Namjoon takes him on as an undergraduate research assistant. He happily sits in the EEG setup as Yoongi places the electrodes on his scalp, the conductive gel sticking the skull cap to his long hair.

“It’s cold,” he says, giggling.

Yoongi smirks as he finishes getting Jungkook set up.

“Sometimes, people want a picture of themselves in the---”

Jungkook is already pulling out his phone and taking a selfie, but he’s laughing so hard at how crazy he looks that he can’t get a good shot.

“Will you?” Jungkook asks Yoongi, who gently smiles and snaps a picture for him.

The task is simple. Jungkook just has to sit at a computer while hooked up to the EEG, trying to move as little as possible. He must spend 30 minutes trying to memorize 60 pairs of images. The images show basic household objects. Then, he’s tested on his memory of the image pairs. During the test, all Jungkook has to do is press 1 on the keypad if the pair is the same, 2 if the pair has been shuffled in some way, and 3 if the pair is new to him, meaning it wasn’t one that was studied earlier.

The hardest part about the task is not falling asleep.

Jungkook does a pretty good job until the last few minutes, when he blinks extremely hard to try and get himself to wake up. You, Yoongi, and Namjoon smile at each other as you watch him and try to stay silent. He looks so adorable, opening and shutting those wide eyes with such determination.

When Yoongi tells him that he’s done, Jungkook whips around and asks, “What’s my score?”

Yoongi laughs. “I have to sort the data,” he tells him.

“Can I watch?” Jungkook asks.

“Sure. But first, let’s get you cleaned up.”

Yoongi grabs a towel from the shelf and leads Jungkook to the back room, where you’ve installed a hair-washing sink.

You hear them talking as you and Namjoon finish cleaning up the rest of the lab and start backing up the data you’ve just collected.

“One participant down, twenty-nine to go,” Namjoon says, grinning at you.

You smile as you turn your attention to your computer, leaning over the desk and starting the upload to your servers.

Namjoon hovers near you, and you can hear him breathing heavily.

“Joon,” you whisper warningly, “we have company.”

“Mmm.”

He bounces on his heels a little, but then you feel his hand creep up your side.

“Joon.”

He sighs, and then he takes a step back.

But then he grunts a little, and he leans next to you, the computer screen reflecting on his glasses.

“Joon, I swear.”

“What? My hands are right here.”

You look down at the desk, where he’s placed his hands. But you’re referring to the fact that he’s pressing his cock against your thigh.

“Don’t,” you whisper, closing your eyes. “I won’t be able to focus.”

“Yes, you will. Just focus on me.”

“This was your study idea!”

“I know, but I didn’t realize how distracting you’d be, looking all sexy while you put in the work,” he mumbles, his face moving closer and closer towards you.

“Seriously?”

“I am being serious. You’re looking seriously sexy.”

You giggle. “And you’re looking---”

“Oh!”

You whirl around and see Jungkook already averting his gigantic eyes. His towel hangs around his neck, and his long hair is dripping wet. It’s combed back, revealing that he’s had an undercut this entire time. You feel embarrassed for being caught with Namjoon, but you also can’t help finding Jungkook so cute, standing there, nervous and unsure.

“Uh, um, Y-Yoongi said that he washed all the gel out, and, uh,” he stammers, pretending like he hasn’t seen anything.

“Great!” you chirp, nudging Namjoon in the ribs and forcing him back. He leans his elbows back on the desk before getting fully back to his feet.

You inch away before Jungkook decides it’s safe to look back at you both. He blushes bright red.

“Well, so… are we done?” he asks.

“Yes, we’re done. Thank you so much for helping us with the first run,” you say. “This will help us make sure we’ve got all the settings right.”

“And thanks for your help with recruitment from your pals in the symphony,” Namjoon adds. “That’s also a huge help.” He stands behind you and places a hand on your shoulder. You smirk and playfully shrug him off, and he laughs at you, tickling your neck a little and making you scoff at him.

Jungkook smiles at the two of you. He doesn’t seem embarrassed anymore. He actually seems like he likes the look of the two of you together. His eyes glimmer. It’s almost as if he finds you just as endearing as you find him.

“Absolutely! I’m just happy to get to learn through participating,” Jungkook answers, his shoulders relaxing.

Yoongi joins you back in the lab, wiping his hands on his own towel and tossing it over into the laundry hamper that you keep by the door.

“Professor Ma is set for tomorrow afternoon,” Jungkook says. “Does that time still work?”

“Sure,” you say. “I think Jimin and Taehyung are joining you for that collection, right Yoongi?”

“Jimin is,” Yoongi replies. “I’ll show him the ropes.” He turns to Jungkook. “And then Hoseok’s meeting you, Taehyung, and the third participant. Same exact protocol.”

Yoongi turns and sees that the data have successfully been saved on the server.

He turns to Jungkook. “Wanna learn how we sort your data?”

Jungkook nods eagerly.

“C’mon.”

Yoongi leads Jungkook over to his computer, and he pulls up a chair so that Jungkook can sit next to him.

“We’ll leave you to it. Send us the preliminary results?” you ask Yoongi.

“Will do.”

You walk out of the lab, and Namjoon follows closely behind you. Once you’re in the hallway, and Namjoon checks to make sure that no one is looking, he pinches your ass.

You bite back a smile and slap his hand away.

He feigns innocence, and you roll your eyes with a grin.

You get to your office, and you pull him into a deep kiss as you shut and lock the door behind you.

He sighs into you, and you get so heated that you wrap your leg around his waist, pressing your throbbing clit against his growing cock. You moan quietly, and he grunts.

“Shit, OK, I know I was playing around, but you’re going to give me a hard-on that I won’t be able to disguise,” Namjoon whispers, pulling back from you.

“I thought this was what you wanted,” you playfully tease, kissing him chastely on his lips and turning the temperature down.

He takes a few deep breaths and watches as you sit in your chair, double-checking to make sure the data has backed up to your local machine as well.

“Fine, I get it. I’ll keep it clean while we’re here,” Namjoon says, walking over to your desk and sitting on the edge, watching you work. “It’s just so hard.”

“Your cock?”

Namjoon lets out a loud laugh. “Yes, but also the fact that we have to be so clean here. We started here. And it started dirty.”

You turn back to him and smile, biting your lip when you find that his gaze has grown soft and romantic.

And then a thought creeps in.

“Do you think we still have to keep this a secret?” you ask.

Namjoon raises his eyebrows.

“We’re not breaking any rules. And I feel like, well…” You shrug. “I feel like no one would really care if we were dating. Other than the two of us, I mean.”

Namjoon nods.

“Why did we keep it secret in the first place?” you dare to ask.

He shrugs. “Didn’t you want to, too? All the rules?”

He falls silent.

You aren’t sure why.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

He looks at you earnestly. “Nothing’s wrong. I just… I’m nervous about making it outwardly known or official because…” He scoffs. “It’s stupid.”

“Whatever it is, it’s not stupid.”

His gaze falls to the floor as he wrings his hands.

“Tell me, Joon. You’ve been so patient and open with me. Let me do the same with you.”

He sighs. “I just have this weird fear that if we make it official, like turn in the HR report and everything, that something will come along and ruin it,” he confesses.

“And why do you think that?”

Namjoon’s forehead creases, and your heart lurches up into your throat.

You reach out for his hands and weave your fingers into his. You press a kiss into the back of his hand, and you peer up at him, just waiting until he feels comfortable enough to tell you.

“...The night my ex and my friend had together?” he asks, finally.

“Mmhmm?”

“I had just told my friend that night that I was going to propose,” he explains. “I think that’s why it happened. And I feel like if I hadn’t said anything, maybe nothing would have happened.”

You sigh. It all makes sense now.

But Namjoon misreads your sigh. “I told you it was stupid,” he says, watching your eyes roam over him.

“That isn’t stupid.” You kiss his hands again. “I just hate that you’ve been carrying that around with you. But you can’t blame yourself. That wasn’t your fault. You know that, right?”

Namjoon nods. “Isn’t it funny to be working in this field? Cognitively, psychologically, and logically, I understand that. But I just still feel so…”

You brace for what Namjoon is about to share. He swings his leg back and forth, the back of his knee pressing on your desk, as if he’s kicking the words out of himself.

“...Responsible.”

You shake your head. You want to cry for him.

“I just want this to be different,” he expresses, bringing his hands up and running his fingers through your hair. “It’s already so different. I know it’s so early, but we’ve known each other for years, and… it’s just so much better in so many ways already.”

“I know what you mean,” you say, and as he strokes your hair, you rest your chin on his other knee.

Namjoon smirks. “Now, don’t do that,” he says, bringing his kicking leg to a stop. “You’re way too close to the danger zone, and I don’t know if I’ve fully calmed down yet.”

You laugh and push your chair away. “OK. Let’s put this talk away for now and just get through the day.”

Namjoon smiles at you. He leans down and gives you one sweet kiss on your forehead before he goes.

“Thanks for understanding.”

“Thanks for being willing to share.”

You suddenly feel like a burden has also been lifted from your chest, and the unexpected release makes you wince. Namjoon notices. His eyes question your uneasy expression, though you try to smile through it.

“What?” he asks.

“It just hit me all of a sudden,” you say, your voice wavering.

“What did?”

“Well, I had asked about it before, and you always wanted to keep it secret. I thought maybe… I don’t know, I thought maybe that you were embarrassed or ashamed that you were with me.”

Namjoon’s eyes flood with emotion.

“No. Oh god, no. Not at all.”

He slides off of your desk and kneels in front of your chair, resting his head in your lap.

“You? How could I be embarrassed or ashamed? You are good, and bright, and beautiful, and wonderful, and…”

He looks up at you.

“...And I’m falling for you.”

Your lips quiver as you form them into an overwhelmed smile.

“I’m falling for you, too.”

He kisses your hands. He places your hands so that you’re cradling his head.

And then he reaches for your fly.

“Namjoon,” you say, suddenly stiffening.

“Shh.”

He pulls your blouse out from the waistband of your pants, and you rush to stop him, but he just takes your hands and places them on the back of his head again.

You sigh and look at the door. You know it’s locked. You remember locking it just a few minutes ago. But you just want to check.

And then Namjoon’s spreading your legs and kissing your stomach, tugging on your pants at your thigh.

You laugh softly, and you hoist yourself up using your armrests. He pulls your pants down to your ankles, and he notices your white wedges.

“Mmm,” he says, thoughtfully fingering the strap around your ankle. He looks up at you. “Conundrum.”

“I can put them back on,” you offer.

He shakes his head. “No time.”

He pulls your thighs toward him, and he runs his tongue along the lines of your panties. You sigh as he flips it underneath, grazing your soft skin. And then he pulls your panties down, making you worry that you’re about to get very sweaty and sticky in a leather chair.

You stop caring when his tongue circles around your clit, awakening it. Seducing it. You bite down on your own tongue when he flicks the tip of his tongue against the tip of your clit. He’s gliding around you, and even though it would be impossible, you worry that people in the hallway can hear the mix of his saliva with your juices, wet and sloppy.

You clench your throat so that you don’t moan, but you feel your vocal cords fighting you. Your neck bulges out as you stifle each whimper and groan, and you swear Namjoon is reveling in the sight of you feeling so helpless against him. You look down at him, and there he is, smirking at you as he holds you open and swallows gulp after gulp of you.

You transform your moan into a laugh that gets choked off when he closes his eyes and starts to move his jaw against you. You feel your walls shaking, but you smile when you realize you don’t need anything else. This feels so good, the combination of what Namjoon’s doing to your body, and knowing Namjoon doesn’t want to be anywhere else.

His eyes are on you again, and you feel them waiting for you to meet them with yours.

You can’t, though.

Because you’re coming so hard, and forcing yourself to be so silent, that you have to clench every single muscle in your body. Your hands grip the arms of your chair so tightly that your knuckles turn white. He slaps his hands over them and rubs them, letting you know that he’s there, and that as torturous as this feels, he means for it to be a good thing. A bright thing. A beautiful thing. A wonderful thing.

You finally open your eyes, and the world takes shape again.

You look down at Namjoon, breathless.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, and you cradle his cheek with your hand.

Your thumb runs down his jaw, and it presses into his dimple.

And he places a kiss on each of your thighs, whispering, “I love having you like this.”

“In my office?” you whisper-laugh back.

“No,” he says, grinning. “All to myself.”

It’s been another long week, but at least you’ll have Friday off for a long weekend.

The new waitress sets your beers, chips, and salsa on the table and smiles at Hoseok for the fourth time that night. He smiles back at her and watches her go, but when he turns back to you and Yoongi, you’re both mocking his dreamy gaze.

“Alright, let’s have it out now so that you don’t embarrass me when she comes back,” Hoseok sighs, crossing his arms.

“You gonna ask her out on a date?” Yoongi teases him.

“Yeah, if you don’t cockblock---I mean, um, distract me,” Hoseok says to Yoongi, glancing at you furtively.

“Yoongi’s definitely going to cockblock you,” you say, smiling as you bring the beer bottle to your lips.

Yoongi nods and reaches for a beer bottle.

“Why?” Hoseok frowns.

Yoongi shrugs and takes a drink. “It’s funny.”

You and Yoongi are chuckling as Hoseok starts potential running date ideas by you when someone approaches. You smile because you think it’s Namjoon, but when you look up, you scowl, because it’s not.

It’s Jin.

You haven’t seen him since the night Kyong broke up with him. He looks better now. He’s still a bit ragged, but he could just be tired from a long day. He scratches at his neck, loosening the dress shirt of his collar a little. As he lets his hand fall to his side, he reveals that the top button is undone. You can see his collarbones and the top of his lean chest. There was a time you would have felt compelled to leave a little nibble in one of those spots.

But tonight, you roll your eyes at his smug face.

“Hey,” he says with a toothy grin. He gestures to your booth, at the empty space on the other side of you. “That seat taken?”

You can’t help but glance over at Namjoon’s table. He’s watching. And he looks livid.

“No,” you say carefully, “but---”

“So, your new boyfriend isn’t here?”

“You have a new boyfriend?” Hoseok asks in surprise, and you catch Yoongi anxiously pressing his lips into a thin, straight line.

“What do you want?” you ask, remaining seated.

“I wanted to see if I could join you all for Thursday night trivia,” Jin says. “Like old times.”

“Is Kyong with you?” Yoongi asks. Whether he means it or not, the statement in Yoongi’s deep voice sounds disparaging, and you’re a little thankful.

“No,” Jin says, curt. He keeps his gaze on you.

You sigh. “Jin, go away.”

“What? I just want to play a game. Get in on the action.”

You look over at Namjoon’s table again, and you know Jin is noticing how you keep checking in. Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook are with him, laughing and setting up their answer cards, but Namjoon still looks upset.

“Start your own team,” you say, staying put, gatekeeping the empty space next to you.

“I’m only good at linguistics questions, so I’m offering my services,” Jin replies.

“We’ve had those,” Yoongi replies. “We get them right without your help.”

“Well, another brain couldn’t hurt.” Jin leans casually on the back of your seat. You know he won’t go away. He’s too stubborn.

“I’m going to the bathroom,” you say, standing up. “When I’m back, you’d better be gone.”

You know Jin won’t be gone.

But you hope, and rightfully guess, that Namjoon picks up on the fact that you’re walking past the quizmaster setting up his station and over to the bathroom to have a much-needed chat.

A few seconds later, Namjoon meets you in the hallway leading to the bathroom doors.

“What the hell is he doing here?” Namjoon asks under his breath, as you pretend to stand in line.

“I don’t know,” you say. “I told him to go away, but knowing him…”

You look at Namjoon, defeated.

“Is he really planning on staying?”

“Seems that way.”

“What the fuck?”

Namjoon leans his head on the wall. Someone flushes a toilet, washes their hands, and walks out of the bathroom.

“What do you wanna do?” you ask Namjoon.

“You’re asking me?”

“Well, yeah.”

“Well, what do you wanna do?”

“I wanna leave,” you say, “but with our entire labs here, I don’t think that’s an option.”

Namjoon sighs. “Do you think you can deal with him?”

“I can,” you say, fixing your gaze on him. “Can you?”

Namjoon’s head nods, and you feel a knot forming in your stomach.

You don’t know if you believe him.

You get back to your seat and aren’t surprised when you see Jin sitting in the previously empty seat that was next to you. You plop down and immediately stop caring about the winner of tonight’s game. All you care about is getting through it in one piece.

Hoseok stares at you, looking guilty. “He bought us a round,” he says quickly, pointing to the now six bottles of beer on the table, as if to explain why Jin is still there.

“The least he could do,” you mutter, as you sit down and shrug off Jin’s attempt to put his arm around you.

He sets his arm on the back of your seat instead.

The game starts, and though you’re luckily answering basically every question right, you get stumped by an art history question. Namjoon gets it right. The question is, “What famed contemporary artist has designed album covers for Kid Cudi and Kanye West?” When the quizmaster announces that Synapse, Crackle, Pop gets it right, you flash him a smile, and he sends you back an eyebrow raise and a wink.

By the end of the game, you’ve tied things back up. The question that helps you get there is, “Who starred as Jo March in the 1933 film adaptation of Little Women?” Jin started talking about how many times he’s read that book, but he’d never seen a film adaptation of it, because film adaptations of books just aren’t the same.

None of you really paid attention to his rant. You just eyed the answer card, and Yoongi slid it over as he reached for some chips and salsa. You scrawled Katharine Hepburn’s name onto the blank and handed it to Hoseok to run up to the quizmaster, giving him a chance to bump into the waitress and set his hands on her waist to move out of the way and pass through.

When the quizmaster announces that The Neuromantics gets it right, Namjoon grins at you, and you tuck your hair behind your ears.

“Lots of pop culture-type questions today!” Jin reflects. He’s drunk, and loud, and everyone at the table is annoyed with him. “Don’t they know that our ilk hasn’t been part of pop culture in decades?”

“Speak for yourself,” Yoongi mutters, disappointed. “I finally came up with Murakami for that Kid Cudi question, and you were being too loud for anyone to hear.”

“Well, we’re all tied up,” Jin says cheerily, looking at you.

“What are you here to contribute again?” you ask, feeling lazy and a little buzzed.

“Until a linguistics question comes up, I’m offering entertainment.”

“You’re not very entertaining,” Yoongi says, deadpan.

Jin pushes his lips out. And then he smiles. “Moral support, then.”

“I’m guessing you’re not very moral either,” Yoongi replies, looking over at the quizmaster and posing his pen to get ready for the next question.

At the end of the night, you end up needing a tiebreaker again, both of your teams boosting miles away from your competition.

The quizmaster grins and says into the mic, “After a short break, I’ll need a representative from each of our star teams! Think about who you’ll send up, because our tie breaker is going to be a Vocabulary question!”

“Now’s my time to shine!” Jin replies cheers, standing and pushing you out of his way.

You sigh, aggravated. You get up, moving away as he marches up to the stage.

“Really??” Yoongi complains, his hands gesturing to Jin and staring as you let him go.

“He won’t stop,” you say, shrugging. “Best to let him tire himself out. If we win, great. If not, we’ll all share Namjoon’s gift card anyway.”

Yoongi shakes his head as you reach for the chips and salsa.

Now that Hoseok’s main duty of running the answers up to the quizmaster is over, he’s making small talk with the waitress by the bar.

“So, how will you bring about his downfall?” you ask, eyeing them and grinning to yourself. “Humiliating story? Fake rumor? Embarrassing picture?”

Yoongi snorts and wipes his nose. “I forgot about that conference with the embarrassing picture. Man, Hoseok needs to be more careful around me.”

And then he watches Hoseok and the waitress laughing with each other so easily.

“Maybe I’ll let them be,” Yoongi reflects. “They seem to be having fun.” He fiddles with his napkin. “Seems nice.��

You watch him.

“Are you excited about getting to the other parts of your life?” you ask. “Y’know. After your defense?”

Yoongi smiles. “Yeah. It’d be nice to go out on a date again.” He laughs. “Of course, you’d know all about that. With your new boyfriend and all.”

You go to challenge him, but then he laughs. “I already know about you and Professor Kim. Namjoon, I mean.”

You hide your grin as best as you can. You turn to look at Namjoon and Jin standing awkwardly beside each other, both of them not daring to make eye contact with anyone except you.

You look back at Yoongi. “Did Jungkook tell you?”

Yoongi blushes. “He did, and he went way heavy on the details. But I knew before then.”

“How?”

“The night I went to your house. I know he was there.”

You furrow your brow. You had been so careful to sneak him out.

“I recognized his car in your driveway,” he explains. “I parked on the street because it was blocking the way. And when I left, it was gone.”

You’re kind of glad someone knows, and that it was because of Namjoon that they found out. You just wish it weren’t a student of yours, even if it is Yoongi.

He blinks at you. “If you don’t mind my asking… how do you feel about it?”

You think, and you smile. “...Good. I feel good about it.”

He mirrors your smile back to you. “Good. You seem happier. It’s nice to see you back to your old self.”

You could hug Yoongi in that moment.

His eyes rove back over to Hoseok and the waitress, who look like they’re exchanging phone numbers. Hoseok laughs nervously, and his phone slips out of his hands. He drops to the floor to pick it up, and the waitress giggles softly.

“Yeah,” Yoongi says wistfully, taking another swig of his beer. “It’d be nice to take a girl out on a date again.”

“Alright, gang,” the quizmaster announces, prompting the audience to applaud. “Rules for the tiebreaker are as such: first person to say the answer out loud wins! Crowd, you’ve been lovely, so if you know it, please don’t give it away!”

The crowd hushes excitedly, and Hoseok joins you and Yoongi back at your booth.

You all watch intensely as the quizmaster reads from his cards.

“The topic, for those who missed it, is Vocabulary! And the question is: This word could describe a famous poem by Lewis Carroll, or a famous hip-hop dance group!”

Namjoon leans forward quickly. “Jabberwocky.”

“Jabber-who-now?” Jin asks, blinking.

“That is correct! Synapse, Crackle, and Pop tie things up once more in this epic trivia saga!” the quizmaster exclaims.

Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook jump out of the booth and join Namjoon in their victory lap.

Jin walks over to your booth, shrugging.

“Sorry, team,” he says. “I thought I’d know the answer right away. Did any of you know it?”

“Yes,” the three of you say in chorus.

“Well, damn,” Jin says, stretching his legs over you to sit back down in the booth, “I didn’t know all of you were fans of Jabba the Hutt or whatever.”

“We would have sent Professor Kim up there, and she would have gotten it right,” Hoseok replies.

“Professor Kim?” Jin turns to you and smiles brightly. “Y-you mean… You haven’t changed your name yet?”

Yoongi mutters under his breath, and Hoseok senses something is up again.

“Don’t read into it,” you say warily. “I’ve just been busy.”

Jin laughs. “Sure. Or maybe you just can’t bring yourself to.”

“Or maybe it might make things easier when I remarry,” you say, just as Namjoon and the rest of their team come over to your booth to gloat.

Jin frowns at your comment.

“Hi, losers,” Jimin jokes, greeting you. “C’mon. Drinks on us.”

“Great game, guys,” you say, smiling at them. “But I think I’m gonna go ahead and head out.”

“Me too,” Namjoon says quickly.

Jin looks at the two of you gathering your things and rushing out of there. You catch Jungkook’s gaze, and he smiles knowingly at you. Your heart fills, and you smile back at him.

“Me three, I guess,” Jin says, sliding back out of the booth and looking sadly at the group.

You all watch him expectantly.

“Well, thanks for letting me join in, at least,” he says.

He looks so sad. So lonely.

“It was fun,” you say stiffly, trying to help him save face.

Jin nods. And then a small smile pops up on his face. “I’ll call you later,” he says.

You roll your eyes, and before you can say anything back, he’s gone.

You don’t care what your students think anymore. Half of them already know, and the other half are probably about to find out.

You and Namjoon walk silently to your cars, Jin’s spectre hanging over you.

“What did he mean by---” Namjoon stops himself and sighs. “No,” he says, determined. “I’m not gonna let him ruin tonight.”

“You’re that thrilled about your win?” you ask.

Namjoon smiles. “Among other things.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. You’ll see.”

He slips his hand into yours. You wonder what else he’s thrilled about. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re leaving together for once. Maybe it’s because he’s been sneaking peeks at your cute, high-heeled, red leather boots under your long, flowing skirt. Maybe it’s the fact that you’re heading to his house. Maybe it’s all of them.

When you get to his front door, you see him scampering down the steps with his overnight bag.

“What are you doing?” you ask, carrying your own overnight bag.

Namjoon smiles excitedly at you. “OK, we totally don’t have to do it, but… I kind of have another surprise for you.”

You laugh. “What?”

“I’ve planned something for our three-day weekend.”

You smile. “Wait, what??”

He takes your hand and leads you to his car. You giggle as he opens the door for you, and you slide in excitedly. He packs both of your bags in the trunk, and he gets into the driver’s seat.

“Joon,” you say, watching as he starts the car, “you don’t have to keep planning things. I love spending time with you, no matter where we are.”

“I just thought it would be nice if we could get away,” he says, sighing happily. And then he frowns. “Especially after tonight.”

You chuckle.

And then you catch the time on the clock on the dash.

“Where are we going exactly?” you ask. “It’s already so late.”

“It’s OK. I planned it all out,” he says. And then he takes a moment to pause and look at you. Really look at you.

“Are you in?”

You smile and nod. “Of course I am.”

As Namjoon pulls onto the highway, you figure that you’re probably just going to check into some seedy motel, blow off some steam, and maybe make a little of your own. But an hour and a half into your drive, you’re falling in love with the idea of romance again.

A couple more hours later, and you’re heading up into the mountains. You never make it up this far north, and the beautiful scenery around you is helping you to gain perspective on the stresses of your daily life. They’re tiny things, really. Everything looks so tiny from up here.

He reaches for your hand.

“You’re lucky that you won, and I ended up having to go to your place,” you say, staring out your window in awe. “What would you have done if you had lost?”

Namjoon kisses the back of your hand as he drives, and you turn to him and smile.

You remember what he said about having you all to himself.

You’re breathless. You hope that you’re enough for him.

You drive up to an adorable boutique hotel, not too big, and not too small. You can see hot tubs and springs in the back. There are beautiful sculptures on the property as well, sweeping metal shapes that extend into the sky and reflect the soft blue and purple spotlights shining onto them.

As you check in, Namjoon explains that he’d taken care of everything last weekend. The reservation. All meals through room service. You won’t have to get out of bed for the next three days, unless you want to. It isn’t exactly the hotel’s busy season, so you hope the prices weren’t too astronomical. But the way that the staff members are dressed makes you think twice.

One staff member leads you to your room, carrying your bags for you.

And then, you and Namjoon are wrapped up in each other, kissing and laughing as you navigate the unfamiliar room and hit your hips or shins on furniture that you didn’t notice was there. A table. A bench. A bookcase.

“Ow,” you complain. You’ve made it over to the bed, but not without your knee bumping against the corner of an interestingly designed lamp.

“Aw, you OK?” Namjoon laughs, bending down to rub your knee.

But before he can, you take his hands in yours, and you place them behind you, on the nape of your neck.

He pulls you in close.

“I don’t know if I brought the right clothes,” you say, half-serious.

“Then we can just stay naked,” Namjoon says, making you giggle.

You kiss him deeply, and when he pulls away from you, his eyelashes flutter, gazing at you dreamily.

You smirk.

“I’ve got a surprise for you, too,” you say. “It’s considerably smaller. But I think you’ll like it.”

Namjoon gives you a look. The smile you’re giving him is smoky and sultry, and he’s getting lost in your bedroom eyes. You raise your shoulder a little, tilting your head.

“Help me with my dress?”

Namjoon finds the clasp by your next and zips it down to the middle of your back. He kisses down the front of your dress, keeping pace with the tab as it travels down the track. He bends his knees and drops down to get the zipper all the way down to your ass, pressing a kiss on your mound and making you clench at the pressure. He looks up at you and tugs on the fabric.

When your dress ruffles off of you, he sees that your leather, red, high-heeled boots don’t just stop at the ankle. They don’t stop at your calf. They stop mid-thigh, and the belt of your matching red lingerie is clasped into it.

His jaw hits the floor.

“You… you just…”

He’s dumbstruck.

“Thoughts?” you ask, subtly striking a bit of a pose.

He stutters when he speaks because he’s unable to decide where he wants to look. Everything, every part of you, looks so delicious. “D-did you… how did you---” He blinks. “Did you know we were coming here?”

You shake your head and grin slowly.

“You mean this was just gonna be for a regular Thursday?!” Namjoon cries out in disbelief.

You nod, beaming at him.

“Fuck, you’re incredible,” he says, wrapping you up in his arms and kissing you sloppily.

For the first time since you’ve started dating, Namjoon doesn’t know what to do with his hands. All he knows is that he wants to feel every inch of you. He wants his fingerprints all over your leather boots. He wants people to know he was there.

He runs his hands over your red bra and smiles into your kiss. He pulls away and watches your body as he undresses you, taking you in. His thumbs raise goosebumps as he runs them over your nipples. He wants to kiss each goosebump, and he nearly does until you tug at his sleeve with an impatient whine.

Namjoon laughs at you. “Sorry.”

He pulls off the sweater vest and undoes the buttons on his dress shirt, pulling it out from the waistband of his pants as you unbuckle his belt and undo his fly. He takes the rest of his clothes as he kisses you, and then he lays you on the bed, climbing on top of you. His tongue moves slowly in your mouth, taking its time. His hand matches its pace over your underwear, and your hands match their pace as they run over Namjoon’s back.

Soon, you’re whimpering, and Namjoon senses that you’re ready for him. So he kneels back and smiles down at you.

He carefully undoes the snaps connecting your underwear to your boots. He takes the waistband and drags it slowly off of you, the cold metal of the snaps feeling like ice cubes against your skin. You moan slightly as his hands run down your thighs, and you laugh when his casual toss lands the underwear on that pesky lamp.

You laugh together, and he stares down at you. His smile shrinks from a happy grin to a font, soft smile. And he says, “I…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. He’s not really sure what he’s feeling. He worries that he’s saying it too early in your relationship. You also worry about saying it back too fast. You know that’s your tendency, and you don’t want to relive unhealthy patterns with each other. That’s what you actually want to communicate to each other. Being so close to saying it, and it not being the other person’s fault for not saying it just yet.

So you sit up and press your lips into his chest. You look up at him. “I know,” you whisper. “Me too.”

He kisses you, and then he lays you back down.

He reaches for your thighs and spreads them apart.

And then he plunges into you, moving so slowly, so sensually. You don’t care whether you come, though you do, several times. You’re just so happy to be in a moment with Namjoon that can’t be truly interrupted. Your orgasms are longer, as a result. They stretch out like they have story arcs all on their own. Sometimes, they build and then release right away. Sometimes, they buzz with anticipation at first, and then raise your hairs as they travel along your nerves before shocking you with their power. Sometimes, they never quite flood your system, just under the radar, enough for you to feel cared for and warm, but keeping you present enough to watch Namjoon holds back so carefully, edging himself as far as he can go but trying to stay hard and perfect for you.

Eventually, his eyes flash open, and his eyebrows crease above the bridge of his nose.

“Come for me,” you say, exhausted.

He nods and grunts, and then he leans down into you, kissing your neck. His movements quicken and become more protean. You close your eyes and hold on, reacting to each incredible thrust, each deeper than the last.

And then he folds into you, sweating and happy, his hands grasping your red boots so tightly that you think he might lose his fingerprints completely when he pries them off.

He pulls out of you, and you take a final, deep breath, so tired, but so fulfilled.

You hear him peel his fingertips off of your boots, and you open your eyes to see him reaching for your right leg. He extends your leg and sees the zipper behind your thigh. He lifts your leg straight up in the air, and he bends down to grab the tab with his teeth. He pulls it along the track and wiggles his eyebrows at you, making you laugh. And then he reaches for your left leg, this time just smiling fondly at you as he pulls the tab down. As he frees each of your legs from your boots, there’s a rush of cool air that helps to calm your skin.

He lays between your legs and tosses your boots with a heavy thud to the ground next to you. And you fall asleep like that, not daring to move, not letting even time interrupt you being together.

The robes at this hotel are the softest robes you’ve ever worn. You can’t stop raving about them over a sumptuous breakfast that’s brought to you as soon as the two of you finish having some incredible shower sex, your wails echoing loudly on the marble walls. You and Namjoon even go so far as to search for the hotel’s partners to see who could be responsible for making them, trying to find out if they make personalized orders.

“They do!” you discover. “Ooh, let’s order a couple! These robes might have been worn and washed already.”

Namjoon laughs as you start scanning for customizable options. You don’t know, but he’s loving seeing more and more of this side of you. The brightness with which you greet a lazy day. The domesticity of it all.

“Whatever you want,” Namjoon says, taking a sip of his mimosa.

You’re busy playing with monogram fonts when Namjoon leans forward and catches your eyes.

“Couldn’t you do this forever?” he asks.

You smile. “I very well could.”

“Listen,” he says, smiling, “I’ve been thinking. I want to get away from all the things that keep us hidden or distracted. I want to build something with you.”

You tilt your head, listening as best as you can.

“I’m thinking about leaving the university and finding a new job,” Namjoon replies.

You furrow your brow. “What?”

“I’ve been thinking about tenure, and I just don’t want to be in competition with you in one aspect of my life when I’m trying to build something with you in another,” he says.

It’s incredibly sensible, but you feel like he’s left some things out of the equation.

“But the closeness that we have,” you say. “It was borne out of working within the same walls. Dealing with the same things. Understanding each others’ frustrations.”

“We work in the same field,” Namjoon replies. “And I’m just so tired of all the politics there.”

You nod. You know that each workplace will have its own politics to deal with, but you wouldn’t mind getting a break from the ones you currently face.

“Why don’t we apply for new jobs together?” he asks excitedly. “Start completely new paths? We’re already evolving our research collaborations. We could start a lab together. Be a team.”

You soften. “That sounds wonderful…” And then you take a breath. “But what about all the work we’ve done? All my goals about wanting to build a more diverse faculty, and program in general? And where would we be leaving our students?”

“We could take them with us!” Namjoon replies.

You smirk. “You want to uproot them yet again? Is that even something feasible for them, let alone something they even want to do?”

Namjoon chuckles, a little embarrassed, another example of how his excitement sometimes challenges his theory of mind. You can’t help but be a little endeared to that about him.

“C’mon, after breakfast, let’s go tour this nearby campus. It’s smaller, but I’ve been impressed by what I’ve seen so far,” he says.

You smile and shrug. You really don’t care what you do this weekend, as long as you’re doing it with him.

You change into the sweater and jeans that you packed, but Namjoon looks a little more formal.

“Are you wearing your Monday morning clothes already?” you ask, laughing.

“Yeah, don’t you want to, too?” he asks.

You shrug. “For a tour?”

Namjoon laughs. “You’re right.” He changes into a sweater, too, but instead of putting back on his sweatpants, he keeps his slacks.

You drive farther north to a small liberal arts school. You join a tour group of current high school seniors and their nervous parents, and you appreciate how you’re learning so much about the campus without having to do any work.

“Professor Kim!” someone calls, diverting your attention away from a particularly interesting fact about the mysteriously missing head on a gargoyle statue outside of the library.

You both turn, and you smile at a woman walking towards you. She has a very pleasant face, and she seems excited to see Namjoon.

She reaches you, and you all shake hands.

“I’m Yi Baram,” she replies, “head of the Psychology department here, specializing in educational psychology. I’ve been following your work for a while, Namjoon.”

He smiles proudly.

“As well as your studies on associative memory,” she tells you happily. “You’re both so prolific. Wish we had people like you on our faculty. You’d really help us evolve our research teams.”

“Wow, that’s kind of you to say,” you say sincerely, “but your own team has been doing such great work. I loved your conference talk on changes in EEG complexity on learning styles with students who have dyslexia. Such important work.”

Baram looks like she can barely contain herself. “I was just on my way to my office to have some coffee and relax. Would you like to join me? I can give you the rest of the tour as well,” she says.

“We could do coffee,” Namjoon says, as you smile and nod.

You spend the afternoon ambling about the gorgeous campus, with its incredible mountain views. You chat about research, like the projects that you’re working on, and how you’ve felt your work has evolved over time. Baram picks up the story about the gargoyle, too. It turns out that one student stole it as a senior prank and used it to scare pledges at his fraternity. That student is now a dean at this very same university.

Eventually, you get to her office. Her decor is multicolored, but they’re all pastel and soft. The whole place is so cozy and warm.

You’re thankful that she pours you some coffee.

“Been a crazy semester. How are things in your end of the world?” Baram asks.

“Started rough, but we’re ending the semester strong as a department,” Namjoon replies.

You nod in agreement. “Definitely rising to the challenge.”

“What need is there for additional challenge,” Baram says, sighing. “Things are already hard for academia in the first place. We’re all trying so hard to produce good, valuable work. And then there are business-minded people who come and tie our hands behind our backs. I’ve never understood any of that. Maybe that’s why I’ve stayed here for so long. I don’t have to worry about it here.”

Namjoon smirks. “Well… we have been thinking about that very actively.”

You raise your eyebrows, unsure of what Namjoon has just said. He certainly seems to have been thinking about it actively. You, however, just thought you were making conversation at breakfast.

“Tell me,” Baram says, leaning forward, “what keeps you there?”

“Fulfilling work and classes,” he replies. “But also, to be frank,” he adds, taking your hand in his and winking at you, “each other.”

You smile a little.

“That’s adorable,” Baram laughs.

She turns to you and grins. “Is that what keeps you there, too?”

“In a nutshell,” you say, choosing to forego your usual spiel about the details of that fulfilling work. The long-term goals you have for building your influence and team. The north star that is guiding you.

“Let me ask you this,” she says, her tone changing. “What would entice you to look elsewhere?”

Namjoon looks happy and determined.

“Tenure track, and additional funding.”

Your eyes widen. Namjoon has definitely been thinking about this longer than you’d realized.

“Interesting,” she says noncommittally, leaning back in her chair. “And very doable.”

Namjoon smiles at you, and you get an uneasy feeling in your stomach.

You try your best not to let that uneasy feeling grow. You stamp it down over a steak dinner. You ignore it during another blissful series of hours where Namjoon is making you feel like you’re losing your mind. You push it out of your thoughts as he’s wrapped up with you, drifting off to sleep, telling you about how you’re the most amazing person he’s ever met, and how he wants to be better because of you. For you. But also for himself. You even forget about it the last morning of your stay, when you and Namjoon take turns pleasuring each other, and then washing each other in the gigantic tub.

But as you get into the car to drive home, you realize that it’ll just keep coming back if you don’t deal with it.

You raise your hand to his as he’s about to start the car.

He turns and looks at you, smiling. “Yeah?”

You frown, and Namjoon knows this isn’t going to be an easy conversation to have.

“Tell me.”

“Did you call Professor Yi ahead of time?” you ask him.

You’ve seen Namjoon tell a bold-faced lie before. You know he can do it. That’s why you’re kind of glad that he doesn’t do it now.

“...Yes.”

“How far in advance?” you ask.

“The same day I made the hotel reservation.”

“Before or after you made the hotel reservation?” you ask suspiciously.

Namjoon remains silent.

“You called Baram first?” you ask, disappointed. “Then you booked the hotel afterwards?” You share your head. “It was a setup?”

“Not a setup,” he insists. “It was just an informal interview. I just wanted to see what the options were. And I didn’t want you to read into it too much, so I thought it might feel better if it seemed like we just bumped into her. And it was great! Wasn’t it?”

“Sure, but you just assumed I’d want this,” you say.

“Don’t you?” Namjoon asks, starting to get irritated. “We both want to get away from the university.”

“Do we?” you ask. “And even if that were the case, don’t you think I would have wanted to prepare for something like that?”

Namjoon sighs. “You did perfectly. And it certainly seemed like we were on the same page about the politics.”

“I still like to know what rooms I’m going into so that I walk into them clear-eyed, Namjoon. And I said that I was tired of the politics, but I didn’t ever say that I was ready to leave the university,” you say.

“I don’t understand what the issue is,” Namjoon confesses, frustrated. “I mean, from my viewpoint, I’ve just solved all of our problems.”

“What problems have you just solved?” you ask, albeit a tad condescendingly.

Namjoon narrows his eyes. “The fact that, as good as things are now, our department is still a hellhole. That we want to build something together. That we can’t do that where we are now.”

You look at him quizzically. “And why’s that?”

Namjoon huffs. “Because we can’t truly make a go of it until we--- Until we---”

He averts his eyes from yours.

“Until we let go of things from the past.”

You stare at him, silently. Blankly. And then you furrow your brow. The heat rises on the back of your neck. You’re seeing as red as the boots you wore on your drive up here.

“This is about getting away from Jin??”

Namjoon looks back at you. “I just don’t think we can make a real go of things until he’s out of our lives,” he expresses.

“For someone who values transparency so much, you sure do find so many ways to refuse to offer it in return,” you mumble.

“And what’s that supposed to mean?” he asks.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that? Instead of setting up an ‘informal interview’ or whatever the hell that ambush was!”

“Oh, so now it’s an ambush?”

“I bet there was some part of you that didn’t want me going in there prepared!” you accuse, your competitiveness starting to creep up on you again.

Namjoon scoffs. “This was supposed to be about building something.”

“And we can’t build something if you don’t tell me what’s on your mind,” you explain. “I need to know how you’re feeling. You asked me to keep you in the loop. You have to do the same. You can’t just expect people to react in certain ways and then blame them when they react differently.”

“Isn’t that exactly what you did with Jin?” he snipes.

“Yeah, so I’m telling you that it’s a mistake,” you argue back, growing even more upset. “I’ve been bending over backwards trying to make this work according to your comfort level, and you still don’t believe that I’m over him. Now I realize that all you see is him. Not me.”

“Unfair,” Namjoon says pointedly. “He’s always showing up. Always calling you or dropping in. Frankly, I’ve had enough of it.”

“Do you just expect him to be out of my life?” you ask. “How many times do I have to say it -- we were married. You don’t just drop everything suddenly. It happens over time. I’m so tired of having to prove to you that I haven’t cheated when it isn’t even my behavior that’s leading you to that conclusion. When are you going to trust me?”

“I don’t know, but I cut that shit out of my life sooner than you seem to be,” Namjoon mumbles.

“Fuck, Namjoon, how many bombs are you going to drop on me?” you ask, wild and desperate. “I mean, is this what you did with your ex? Did you constantly keep her in this state of trying to figure out what’s going on with you, only to blindside her with crazy-heavy confessions? Did she have any inkling of what she meant to you, or the fears and insecurities in your mind? Did she have any insight into the future that you seemed to be building for the two you? The plan that you were building completely on your own? Did she know you were anywhere close to proposing? Because I’m fucking guessing she didn’t, and I’m fucking guessing that’s why she fucking fucked your best friend!”

You’re sorry as soon as you say it.

You know Namjoon knows it.

But you’re both still so angry.

Namjoon takes a few moments to calm down, and then he starts the car.

By the time you’re pulling off the highway and back into your town, you know you’ll just need a bit of extra time to re-balance.

“I’m so, so sorry,” you say. “You didn’t make your ex cheat. I’m really ashamed that I said that.”

Namjoon clenches his jaw.

He grips the steering wheel and sighs.

“I’m sorry that I let all those doubts get to me,” he says back. “I shouldn’t have let all of them build up inside of me. I should have been sharing this with you all along.”

You park outside of his house, and you both go to get your bags in the back. When you walk to your car instead of his front door, he frowns.

“Aren’t you staying?” he asks sadly, joining you by your driver’s seat door.

“I just… I don’t know if I’ll be good company to you tonight,” you admit.

He drops his bag on the pavement, and he runs his hands down your arms, trying to pull you into him.

“Stay,” he says softly. “Stay and be mad at me. Stay and ignore me. Just stay tonight.”

You shake your head. “I don’t think I’m upset. And I’m definitely not going to call or see Jin, nor will I take his calls or see him if he comes over. I just really want tonight to myself. Is that OK?”

Namjoon nods. “OK. But if that changes---”

“I know,” you say. “I’ll come find you.”

You place a kiss on his cheek and then look deeply into his eyes. It makes him feel reassured that he hasn’t totally lost you.

You’re afraid that he hasn’t.

The night apart seemed to have let you both cool off.

The next morning, he gives you a kiss that is more suited for your bedroom than your office, and you moan a little as he pulls away.

“I missed you,” you say, remembering how you ached for him the night before.

“Jimin and Jungkook are waiting in my office with our next participant,” he interjects.

You whine, “Screw the data collection. They can take care of it. Let’s drive back up to the hotel and forget that I totally screwed everything up.”

“You didn’t screw anything up. You were right. But I still hope you’ll think about taking those jobs, if we get them.”

You kiss him, and as your kiss grows heated, you wrap his arms around your waist, and you press the front of your body against his.

Namjoon laughs fondly, and then he tells you, “C’mon, print those forms and bring them over. Maybe we can pick this up when Jimin takes them to the lab.”

You bite your lip and nod, frustrated that you can’t immediately act on the passion that’s building inside of you both.

“I’ll be right there,” you say.

He winks at you as he heads down the hall, and you close the door behind him.

Even though you lock it, you lean against it, just in case someone somehow barges in. You stick your hand down your pants and rub at your wet flesh, squirming desperately as your fingers caress your folds. You rock your hips against your wrist, eager to milk whatever you can get out of yourself. You want to enjoy it, but you also kind of need to get it over with. If you don’t, you won’t be able to think for the rest of the day.

You think of Namjoon’s lips on yours, just now. How soft they were. How soft they always are. You imagine his lips on your pussy, stamping a trail to your entrance before wrapping themselves completely around you.

And then you remember how you left this office before the weekend. How Namjoon had so expertly and delectably eaten you out in that chair.

The sensation and imagery make your breath catch in your chest, and you need to let out a little gasp, like a pressure valve, lest you groan lewdly and loudly.

You almost come, but then you hear a soft knock at the door.

You grin to yourself.

“See? You can’t wait either---”

When you throw open the door, Si-hyuk stares back at you. For once, he doesn’t look irate or disappointed. Just genuinely surprised.

“Sorry,” he says quickly, “I just wanted to see if I could get a moment of your time. I’ll come back later.”

“No, now’s good,” you say, clearing your throat and feeling incredibly stupid. “Please, come in.”

You open the door wider, and you both walk further into your office. You sit at your chair and hope he doesn’t notice when you catch your hand in the bend of your knee, wiping your fingers in the crease of your pants.

He sits in the chair across from you.

“How are things?” he asks.

You used to have these kinds of chats with Si-hyuk when you first started. He would make the rounds every week. Spend some time with each faculty member. Check in. He’d listen to your frustrations. He’d answer your questions. He’d give you the kind of advice that made you feel seen.

It’s been years since Si-hyuk has sat in the chair across from you.

“Good,” you say lightly. “How are things with you?”

“OK,” Si-hyuk says. He sighs. “Well, to be honest, they’re not OK. They’re kinda bad, actually.”

You furrow your brow. What’s about to happen?

“What’s going on?” you ask nervously.

He sighs. “Nothing in particular,” he says. “And by that, I mean this isn’t meant to be any kind of particular conversation with you. But I’ve been observing our staff meetings and watching how you’ve all come together as a team.”

“We don’t mean any disrespect,” you say. “We just wanted to… I don’t know. Do more, I guess.”

Si-hyuk nods. “And for that, I want to thank you.”

You raise your eyebrows.

Si-hyuk smiles. He actually smiles. A real smile. One prompted not by malice or schadenfreude. One elicited by genuine happiness.

“I’ve had a rough time of it the past few years, since Professor Cho got sick. And I recognize now that I’ve been floundering as head of this department as a result.”

You nod. Professor Cho was the heart and soul of this department, and you know that his departure is what kickstarted all the toxicity.

“I value achievement based on metrics. I thought that if I let you all fend for yourselves, the best performers would rise to the top. But I see now that all it did was create an unhealthy environment.”

“To be fair, we did try to tell you,” you remind him gently.

Si-hyuk nods. “I didn’t listen. I’m sorry for that.”

You feel touched.

“Well, it isn’t just me,” you insist. “Namjoon was the one who suggested we share ideas.”

“But he shared them with you first,” Si-hyuk replies. You tamp down the impulse to explain the real reason why he shared them with you first, but Si-hyuk keeps talking. “You’ve stayed very patient with me, and with everyone else. You’ve done wonders with Yoongi and helped him realize his full potential as an amazing researcher and academic. And what you said at that one staff meeting? The infamously mutinous one?”

You look nervous when he says it, but he chuckles to let you know that he’s only joking. His laugh lets you smile at the fact that you had anticipated his reaction.

“You said that if you took this collaborative approach, it would help ensure that whoever got tenure would be well-prepared.”

You nod. “I believe it.”

His eyes meet yours, and you get the sense that the conversation is shifting a little.

“I hate to put you on the spot, but I have to ask…”

You gulp. This might be it. The big question about you and Namjoon.

“Are you interviewing at other universities?”

You furrow your brow. How does he know? You and Namjoon have been so discreet.

“I know you saw Baram,” Si-hyuk explains. “She's an old friend. She told me that she met you and Namjoon there.”

You try not to roll your eyes. For as big of an expanse that exists in your brains, academia is such a small, small world.

“I didn’t want to make a big deal out of it,” you explain to him quickly. “Namjoon and I were just hanging out, and it was just small talk.”

“You’re allowed to interview. You’re allowed to do whatever you want,” Si-hyuk says gently.

But then he sighs.

“I can’t promise you tenure. I can’t promise much right now, given what’s going on with the university. But I can promise that I heard what you said that day. And I’m out of the funk that I was in. I’m determined to fight for what is right. So, I wanted to check in and let you know that I’m throwing out the arbitrary rules that I held for the staff, particularly you and Namjoon. I’m taking another look at the tenured spot that we have open, and I’ll make my decision soon. I do hope that you’ll stay with the team no matter what happens, but if you go, know that I will be the first to write you a glowing recommendation.”

You smile.

He stands and moves to your door.

Before he goes, you say, “I’m just so glad to know that you’re still in there. I knew the real you hadn’t left. I knew he was just taking a bit of a time out. I’m glad you’re back.”

Si-hyuk smiles with a twinkle in his eye as he closes your door.

And you drum your fingers on your desk, anxiously anticipating the debate you’ll be having within yourself of whether to stay or go.

← 04: Exams | 06: Final →

Office Hours | Masterpost

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