#i thought of pat while making those gifs in particular because she's giffed them for her own series too | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

randombtsprincessa · 4 years ago

Text

Brush His Picture

Author: Randombtsprincessa

Characters: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Words: 12.6k I am sorry for getting carried away...again.

Genre: Fluff, Angst cause it’s me

Rating: General!

Summary: Your job of writing a bio for Kim Namjoon is thrown for a spin when feelings get involved...

Warnings: It’s Namjoon. I have gushed. I am not sorry.

A/N: Firstly a warm and cuddly hug for @wynniewright for whom this fic is written. I enjoyed our conversations and look forward to more of those! Secondly a big hug and heaps of thanks to @casuallyimagining for the gif banner because I suck at those. Thirdly thanks to @thebtswritersclub for hosting the wonderful exchange!

Smeraldo Books, in your opinion, was the best building in the small corporate complex located just a little walking distance from your little apartment. It was slate gray; concrete and glass which gave off a cold, aloof appearance from outside, but when you entered it, it was rich creams, warm browns with tons of plants and flowers. The smell followed you, as you climbed up the floors, multicolored as should be the place where you entered new dimensions via books.

Your own floor was pastel blue, pine wood and deep tones of red and browns sprinkled here and there. If you looked hard, you’d find some pink nestled somewhere too. Today it was on your own desk. You had outdone yourself to be early today. You’d packed up everything you could think of in a sensible tote – notepad, tablet, pens, pencils, heck you’d even thrown in a sharpener and ruler scale. You’d grabbed your hello kitty travel mug, filled it with yummy hot chocolate with a touch of espresso and strode down the street to work.

You would be getting the first assignments of the incoming season today and since it was your first writing assignment overall, you wanted to make a good impression – a very good impression. Your pressed clothes and smart shoes were testament of your frazzled fluttering last night, preparing for today. Making sure you had everything; you took a deep breath and made to enter the conference room at the back of the floor.

Each floor had one, for on-floor calls and projects undertaken by the different subsets of the publishing house you worked for. Yours, in particular, was the same blue and pine, a long oval table in the centre with purple and blue mismatched chairs around it. Light streamed in clearly from the high wide windows, with glass animals on the sill throwing rainbows on the wall. In the very centre of the table was a vase, sporting the very flower that the company was named after. The ethereal blue petals blushing with pinks and violets at their veins curled delicately, recently sprayed to look dewy and fresh.

You adored these flowers; you had three pots of them at home.

***

Rena arrived at sharp 9:45. Her hair was pulled back in a sleek high ponytail that you were semi sure could cut if she – ahem, whipped her hair back and forth fast enough. You’d mentioned that during a drinking night, and had been friends since. She was your mentor in more ways than one, and you relied on her heavily, this being your first year at Smeraldo. Your appearance today would reflect on her too and you wanted her to know that she could trust you.

“Good morning, Y/N.” She smiled at you.

“Good morning, Rena. Any news for the morning?”

She shrugged, unbuttoning her navy suit. She crossed her legs. “I know seasonal meetings are important, but you don’t have to be quite so stressed about them.” She winked at you. “Don’t worry, you’ll ease into it.”

You sighed in relief. If Rena was this unbothered, you had absolutely no reason to worry.

Your steady breathing remained until about ten minutes, when at 9:55, the door was opened and the head walked in with her assistants and the other members of the floor. You shuffled to the front of your chair as the meeting commenced.

As Rena had said, it really wasn’t anything to worry about. Your head was chill enough when she presented spreadsheets, delegating people to watch the stats and curves before the real reason for the meeting was dealt with.

The ‘projects’ were the writing, the works, the foundation of Smeraldo. Every ‘project’ floor had three to four of those. The stars, who would usually grab the opportunity to head out there, do the work your creative writing professor preached about and bring in the digs. The rest of the floor was the sheep, handling excels and graphs – like commoners.

This season began with two fantasy drafts, both quickly given out to the oldest, most experienced Stars, no questions asked. They were to draft first, present later before Smeraldo published them under their banner.

“Right then,” She looked up. “Now, I don’t suppose you need to be reminded that last year we joined hands to collaborate with HYBE. It is an honor that they chose us and we intend to honor them right back, don’t we?” The words were intimidating enough for us to all nod.

“We have already worked with them so it should be easier for us to get going on the contract this time around. Right Kayla,”

We all turned to look at each other while there was silence from where the Head pointed.

***

As a part of the Smeraldo-HYBE collaboration, personal booklets for each member were released along with quarterly albums, as a sort of promotion. Last quarter, it was Min Yoongi. Now the big season project fish was Kim Namjoon. These works were separate from Smeraldo fictions but equally as important, and if the Head was to be taken seriously, even more so.

After all, BTS was worldwide famous. To do them wrong, would mean our name was mud.

Kayla was the third writer on your floor, senior to you and she had handled Mr. Min’s book. It was a given that she would take charge for the other member’s books as well…

…only…Kayla was absent…at a seasonal meeting…

The fuming ears of the floor Head suddenly told you that maybe you did have something to worry about. With all due respect to Rena, you quietly celebrated showing up an hour early.

“Where the hell is she? What’s going on?”

We stared back dumbly.

“She didn’t call in sick or called off today.” One of the assistants supplied helpfully but cowered when the Head glowered at her.

“Well, that’s all very well, but who do I brief now?”

“Not to worry, you can brief Y/N.”

There was a longer pause in which the members of your floor, simultaneously, turned to look at you. Your jaw nearly dropped, head whipping to look at Rena; the picture of ease. She looked at you and smiled.

To her credit, the Head looked equally thunderstruck. “I…Y/N?” she asked.

You looked around meekly. “Yes ma’am.”

She looked at you askance, before resolutely glancing at Rena. “You will watch her, yes?” At Rena’s nod, she turned back to you. “Miss Y/L/N, I won’t remind you that this project is extremely important to Smeraldo. I would expect your utmost best, understand?” You quickly nodded your head.

“You will be meeting with Bang Sihyuk and Namjoon himself in two days. All information about the album and the HYBE workings will be in a dossier in your mail. Don’t disappoint me.” she cast another look at Kayla’s empty chair, sighed in annoyance before swiping her files over to her assistant.

“Until next time, people,”

When the room finally emptied, you immediately turned to Rena, “Why would you do that?” You demanded.

Rena looked exactly the opposite of how you felt. Stretched onto your nerves now lay the weight of the world, your world. You had been thrilled to get an internship at Smeraldo, working your entire life around the business and after scoring an actual job here you had never thought that one day so soon you’d be at the risk of losing it.

If Kim Namjoon’s book tanked – you were dead. Dead, dead and very much dead…

“I told you, Y/N, you worry too much. This job is probably the easiest ever and since Kayla decided not to show up…I mean, come on, you’re one of our writers…the job was bound to come to you. Head madam just needed some time before she came to you. I hurried the process up. Besides, how will you learn if you don’t actually do the work?”

“But…it’s Kim Namjoon…” You mumbled.

“He’s hardly going to bite your head off, Y/N. Chin up and head to the meeting like the champ you are. You’ll be fine.” She tipped your head back with her hand before walking out herself, leaving you to scurry to your desk, feeling nowhere near as consoled as you should’ve been.

***

Two days in and you were getting dressed up yet again. Only this time, your nerves were sparking like a frayed wire no one was paying enough attention to. You chose a simple but professional outfit, worrying if there was any way anyone could nitpick on it. You ended up switching to something much more formal (and in your opinion, stuffy) attire in the wee hours of the morning, unable to get back to sleep.

HYBE’s building was situated in one of the most upscale business locales in the city. You had to take a cab to get there, already deciding that no way would you have enough time if you took a bus or the train. Already the buttons on your top felt like an over-tight corset. Thankfully, you seemed respectful and important enough to the cab driver that he stepped on the gas pedal, having you step out on the pavement in front of the building with almost twenty minutes to spare. You swigged at the espresso chocolate mix in your cup before stuffing it back into your tote.

You could do this. You had all the qualifications…if not the experience.

You could not possibly screw up that bad, could you?

According to the dossier, the meeting was set in the lounge, somewhere comfortable and open, probably a request of Namjoon’s himself. You knew enough about the man to take a guess.

Inside the building, security quickly but thoroughly sorted you out. You were patted down by a friendly lady, who smiled as she scanned you out an ID and rifled through your purse. She spotted your Hello Kitty cup and chuckled, giving you a wink that had you blushing all the way to where you were supposed to meet – directions given very kindly.

Along the way you knew. You knew that if you ever had to change jobs, you would dearly love to take one at HYBE. The place was an eclectic mix of practical and fun. There were artist posters and records and awards sprinkled around, the most prominent being BTS of course. Sunny gold lined the areas, with crisp blues and greens.

You might have even passed a little park arena.

When you reached the lounge, a sprawling area of lush moss like carpets and pink and purple art work on peach walls, there were only two other people in. The ones you were here to meet.

You recognized Namjoon from the door itself.

Insanely tall and thickly built in all the right places, he stood at a window. His hands were shoved into the pockets of his baggy khakis, a thin blue sweater hanging over his frame, hiding just how muscular he truly must be. Your lips twitched at the deep rose pink hue of his hair.

The other man must have been Mr. Sihyuk, grey suited and glasses perched on the tip of his nose, steadily going through sheaves of paper. Both men looked up at your knock on the glass doors.

Mr. Sihyuk stood up first, hand outstretched but his smile looked a little confused.

“Um, Miss Kayla…how nice to see you, again…”

It seemed like a question, his eyes scanning over your face as if trying to place you and you froze. Your hand paused just a little away from his, eyes darting around to the Idol who joined his CEO.

“It was wonderful to have you with us again on the bio projects for the albums,” He continued, seeming unfazed by your gob-smacked face. “You did a brilliant job on Yoongi’s. I was sad to be unable to meet with you before.”

Oh…dear…they didn’t know it wasn’t Kayla who was going to be on the job. Suddenly you felt like sinking through the soft carpets, right underground. They probably had dossiers of their own, with Kayla’s name across them. They didn’t know that she had slept in that one day and they didn’t know that they were now stuck with you.

“I’m – I’m afraid there's some misunderstanding, Mr. Sihyuk. My name is Y/N Y/L/N. I’m afraid Kayla was unavailable for the project.”

There was absolute silence on both ends after you finished. Mr. Sihyuk’s shoulders fell at your words, mouth parting as his eyes went scanning you again. This time you could distinctly feel him sizing you up. His eyebrows twitched up just so.

“Well then,” The other man, Kim Namjoon, the one you were supposed to write about, extended his hand. “I suppose we should rehash that welcome. Hello Miss Y/L/N, my name is Kim Namjoon. I look forward to working with you.”

You jolted a little, even stumbling forward to shake his hand, now thoroughly shaken out from your humiliated stupor.

“Forgive us, we must not have read the email citing the change.” Bang Sihyuk continued, spreading his hands genially.

“Don’t worry about it. These things can happen.” You fiddled with your bag strap with a tight smile, ignoring the urge to sway on the balls of your feet. The thick tension had still not dissipated as the three of you stood in a triangle, wondering who was going to make the first move.

It had to be you, shockingly. “So, um, shall we begin?”

You were shown a plush red armchair, Namjoon and Bang-PD taking the matching sofa as you were given the preliminary data. A small biographical book of sorts, more of a booklet if you were being honest; talking about an important segment in Namjoon’s life and his process and journey throughout the inspiration and creative take of the upcoming album. Standard, new age stuff…same as Yoongi’s…you already had Kayla’s old notes on the write up forwarded in your email.

You scribbled in small notes in your notepad while Mr. Sihyuk slid a small calendar across. “This is the tentative production and release schedule that we want to follow. There is, of course, plenty of time for you to follow Namjoon around and get a feel of the work environment, the studio life and of course, Namjoon himself. You’ll have quite a lot of time to write. The book will be issued and launched before the press conference and promotions will be done along with availability of the bio in stores.”

You studied the calendar before slipping it into your bag. “Thank you, Mr. Sihyuk. This is most helpful. We’ll be starting work from next week then?”

You were met with nods.

“Well, I’ll be off. It was wonderful to make your acquaintance, Miss Y/L/N. Please, forgive us about the whole Kayla mishap.” Bang-PD stood, you and Namjoon following and with a parting handshake he marched out of the lounge.

You began to slide in your pens and notes back in the bag when you noticed that Namjoon hadn’t followed his CEO out. Instead he stayed back; hands behind his back, watching you pack up.

You glanced up at him in question, meeting his impish small smile with a confused one of your own. “I’m sorry, I just feel so bad about the…thing before.” He said.

“Oh please, really, don’t worry. I’m, like, very new to this so it was bound to happen.” You waved a hand, slinging your tote on your shoulder, preparing to leave.

“Drive safe.” He said, gesturing for you to walk before him.

“Don’t have a car,” You blurted out instinctively before mentally slapping yourself.

“Oh, do you need a car? I’m sure we can get one to take you back to the office.”

“No, no, please.” Your ears burned at the thought of taking one of HYBE’s no doubt lavish company cars to simply take you back to Smeraldo. “I’ll just take a cab.”

You didn’t wait for his reply, shooting a quick smile and wave as you nearly rushed towards the exit.

***

Next week saw a dip in temperature, with you arriving at HYBE wrapped in a coat and scarf. You pulled off your beanie when the kind lady at the desk handed you your lanyard, this time stamped across it were the words EMPLOYEE/ COLLABORATOR. It felt heavy around your neck, the figurative noose as it were, in case you messed up.

Namjoon met you near the reception desk, jogging over from one of the elevators. “Hey!” He smiled wide, rosy hair glinting under the lights. “You’re right on time.”

“Oh,” You wondered if they were watching you for slip-ups and punctuality was one area they were scrutinizing. “On time for what?”

“To meet up; it’s so cold we’re all taking coffee breaks every ten minutes. I thought we could just work in the café?”

Namjoon rubbed his large palms together, drawing your attention to his fingers – soft and perfectly formed. You cleared your throat, shocked at yourself – tightly smiling back.

“Sure, lead the way.” As if you were going to refuse a request from Kim Namjoon himself, you and he walked the same route as you had the first time you’d come here. Only this time, you passed the lounge and followed another hallway which led to what was obviously the cafeteria. The back was lined with counters and serving tables of buffets. There were couches strewn about, booths, and tables. You felt like you were back in school. You hoped the food would be better.

Namjoon led you first to the serving tables. Stirring himself a simple cup of coffee, he turned to you. “Anything you want, you can find here. Sandwiches, subs, ramen, noodles, yeah, we have to go out if you want something more…sustainable.”

“No, this is great.” You gratefully tore open a mixer packet of hot chocolate, bringing out your own mug to put it in. you’d sipped the drink in the journey over, before finally realizing you’d emptied it.

Your new muse raised his eyebrow at the Hello Kitty but didn’t say anything, only suppressing an amused smile. You pretended not to notice that.

Once you were sitting at one of the tables near the windows, you spread your recorder, notebook, pens and cup, ready to work. “Ok, shall we start?”

Namjoon took the final gulp of his coffee, nodding.

“Right so, you’re going to be writing the prologue of the book yourself.” You muttered, flitting through the primary requirements.

“Yep, it’ll be more of a front to my thoughts which you’ll be writing about. It’ll be a personal note to the members, the staff and ARMY from me. Something that is completely mine but it will set the tone for your work.” Namjoon turned his phone to you, tapping a note on it. “I already have the first draft for it. It’ll be revised of course but I’ll email it to you so you can start with that.”

You picked up your pen and then it was only Namjoon talking about how the primary idea for the album came to life and began to gestate in his mind. You found it incredible, how a small incident or a sound could inspire someone like that. You’d never had any experience that moved you like that. You told him as such, wistful of the kind of inspiration that might never ever come.

Namjoon placed an elbow on the table, looking keenly at you. “You’re a writer.” He pointed out.

“Not really; I am working as such, yeah, but I wouldn’t say I’ve been inspired by anything. You have. I think you’ve been inspired since you were…what, fifteen?”

“I had a different beginning than yours, yes. But you can’t compare inspiration with experience. Experience comes after inspiration. Before, there’s only the feeling, the emotion that leads to it. Would you say that you started writing out of just an everyday inspiration, or did you feel something for the craft that drove you to it?”

“I wouldn’t say that’s a fair comparison.” You fiddled with the pages of notes. “I know your beginning, of course, everyone does. I didn’t have that kind of harsh circumstances pushing me to motivation. To be very honest…I’d say I’ve breezed past life. I love my job, but I don’t have much to show in the journey to it.”

Namjoon was silent for a few moments. His tongue poked into his cheek as he regarded you shrewdly. Finally, he gave you a sweet smile, eyes scrunching and dimples popping. Your pen stopped twirling in your fingers, blood easing in your veins at the simple change of expression.

“And that’s okay,” he said, “Not everyone should have to suffer through awful situations to achieve things they aim for. Success shouldn’t be measured in tears, Y/N. The point of life, in my opinion, is happiness and in the end that is what matters; the fact that you end up happy.”

You blinked as Namjoon’s blinding smile dimmed, turning into moonshine as he ran a finger over the rim of his empty cup. The seconds stretched by, you silently removing your gaze from his and taking down everything he had said. Your eyes wanted very badly to return to his face but you kept them firmly on the page, pondering his words, until you realized through your daze that he was speaking again.

“I’m sorry again, about PD-nim and the whole Kayla thing. The email we got was sitting in the inbox but we weren’t informed and neither did we think of checking the company email before the meeting itself.” His voice had softened, turned apologetic that had you hurrying to ease his conscience.

“I already told you, it’s no biggie, really.” You insisted.

“It must’ve been nerve-wracking, especially on the first day.”

You huffed, air whistling from your lips at him, before acquiescing, “Yeah, ok, maybe a little.”

That moonshine smile brightened again, defeating the sun beams that streaked through the windows. “Allow me to make up for it by giving you a tour of our studios. Same time, tomorrow.”

At that time, you were only glad that you could gaze at his face without an excuse.

***

It took you a few days, getting used to the new schedule. You were used to the short walk from your home to Smeraldo. You were used to the morning crispness on your cheeks, the thud of your feet on the pavement and then the warm confines of your office cubicle.

The new pattern involved you having to catch a cab everyday to HYBE. It wasn’t too expensive thankfully, and the hours you spent in the expanse of HYBE, shadowing Namjoon to his haunts and work areas was starting to prove much more enjoyable and rewarding than anything you’d be doing in Smeraldo.

You were drawn into the chatter and gossip of the makeup artists, the lady who intercepted you daily at the desk struck up more conversations with you when you entered. She had a son, you’d learned. Her husband worked away from the city but he commuted every weekend and they found time for getaways whenever they could.

The most jolting experience was meeting the rest of Bangtan.

Namjoon had asked you to accompany him to one of the group practices and when you entered the huge mirrored room, you spotted the rest of the boys sitting here and there, some on their phones, the other stretching.

“Hey guys,” Namjoon slipped the strap of his work out bag over his head, turning slightly to the side to show you standing behind him to the rest of the idols. You raised a hand awkwardly, waving.

“You brought a friend?” One of the men at the back asked – Jimin, with his baby features and an inquisitive smile.

“Actually, this is Y/N. She’s the one doing the bio book for the album for me this time.” He placed a hand gently on your back, pushing you ahead when you failed to step forward.

“Uh, hi,” you mumbled, “nice to meet you all. I’m Y/N.”

“Yeah, Hyung just said.”

Your cheeks immediately heated, helplessly turning to the one who’d spoken.

“Yah, Jungkook-ah, be nice.” A taller man – Jin - smacked the back of the maknae’s head, before smiling at you. “It is very nice to meet you, Y/N. Are you going to be working while we practice?”

The gentle voice of the older man did wonders for you. Reminded of Rena’s composure, you immediately brightened, bowing to them naturally. “Yes sir, I am supposed to be shadowing Mr. Kim so…I hope you don’t mind.”

This made them burst out laughing – Namjoon included.

“‘Mr. Kim’, wow, Namjoon you’ve traumatized the girl. Please don’t be so formal, we’re not used to it.” Jin chortled.

Namjoon rolled his eyes, taking your elbow gently to guide you to sit on one of the cushions against the back wall. “You can sit here and watch. We won’t kick you in the face that way.” He winked and you managed a weak giggle back when you had recovered enough.

Why, oh why did he have to be so attractive? In those loose black shorts, that blasted white tank, you hadn’t been able to quite meet his eyes ever since you’d met him today.

You decided to obey the laws of ‘work’ as BTS practiced their routines. You pulled out your usual supply of pens and your trusty notebook and began to scrawl everything you’d observed, this time the process of choreography and how the dynamics between the group members and Namjoon worked in these hard routines. It took you about five pages, filling out and circling details that you would highlight in the bio.

Soon enough, you ran out of work to distract you. You folded your hands in your lap neatly, simply watching in awe. Each member hit the beat with a different type of attitude. If Jungkook was sleek as a panther, Hoseok was a coiled serpent, but none of them ever missed a beat. There was a tandem between them all, which made you sure that they took this very seriously. After all, they were known for their work ethic and it was their bread and butter.

They couldn’t slack in this just as much as you couldn’t slack in the bio.

Your eyes drifted back to Namjoon. Even though you knew, he wouldn’t describe himself as a dancer primarily, he was no less behind in his steps than his members. He moved with an awkward grace not unlike people of his height. God of Destruction – you remembered – and yet, you couldn’t help but watch when he moved. His chin jutted in concentration and you balled your fist under your chin, chiding yourself.

You were self aware enough to recognize the flow of your emotions and right now, they were particularly worrying. You were in awe of Kim Namjoon, anyone with any semblance of sense would be. He was intelligent, chivalrous, generous, charming, thoughtful, and humorous and in the days you’d worked with him, more than just books and music. He was a fun and charming person to be around and he attracted people like moths.

But…he was way beyond human leagues.

Someone like Kim Namjoon couldn’t be human. He had to be some eldritch being, put together into conception out of pure matter and stardust. There was no way his mind and his soul were meant to be meandering on this planet. And while you were aware he was far from purposeless, you wondered if he would ever be satisfied with his purpose in time.

Maybe…maybe not…

And you, as the self aware person as you were, couldn’t – shouldn’t – be having such tumultuous emotions regarding him. He was pink roses, a dusty shade of gold that had been polished and made to shine from a young age and he basked in the glow of adoration. He was at a peak you couldn’t hope to touch.

Never mind the fact that feelings mixing with work were always dangerous. You had no room for failure if these got in the way. You couldn’t afford to lose your job. You would lose everything you had staked and for what? You couldn’t throw your life away for an unattainable man. You sighed, closed your eyes and ducked your head before any of the men could notice your hard stares.

***

If you had to pick a climax for your journey with Namjoon, you’d pick the day he texted you a weekly schedule filled with interviews and media covered events that you couldn’t shadow him to. What would you do? You couldn’t exactly carry a notepad and pens in your mouth after him like a loyal puppy while he did his job. The interviews were okay, all you had to do was stand at the back behind the camera and note the way he answered his questions and if it was an English interview, the way he deflected stupid and rude questions from his members. Although it was clear by their now unimpressed faces they knew exactly what was going on.

The trouble was the red carpet event that you couldn’t push through. It would be a shame too, since this would be one of the prime times to jot a piece of Namjoon down. In front of flashing cameras, strutting with his head held high, knowing and projecting assurance. It would’ve been a great detail in the bio.

Apparently Namjoon thought the same, because as soon as he saw blue ticks in your text chat, he called you.

“So, what do you think?” He asked.

“About what, the event…? It’s too bad, I’ll watch it on TV and you can tell me how it goes over ice-cream.” You answered, in the face of his snort.

“Or…you could just come with me as my plus one. As a friend, of course, you can sit with that little note of yours and keep writing while people scream in my ear.”

You clutched the phone hard. He wanted you to come with him? He wanted to take you with him to an event? A red carpet event at that…on his arm, with people around…but as friends of course…

“Um…it’s kind of short notice…I don’t even have a dress.” You hedges unsteadily, hoping he didn’t notice the abrupt breathiness of your voice.

“You don’t have to worry about that. I have a fashion extraordinaire handy. Text me your dress size,”

The next you heard from Namjoon was when a huge, pure white box made its way to your apartment door. The delivery man took your signature on a tablet, wearing a sleek blue shirt and pressed pants that nowhere in the world could be a uniform for couriers.

You carried the heavy box to your couch in confusion, fingers fluttering with the navy blue ribbon around it in trepidation. Should you dare open it? It looked very expensive. Maybe this was a mistake and it got delivered to you in a mix up. But it couldn’t be. The name on the tablet was yours, the address yours…

You took a deep breath and pulled the knot loose.

The ribbon fell away gracefully, the top of the box grasped in your fingers and then you opened it up.

If you weren’t holding your breath…you’d have gasped.

Inside was a gown. Ok, that was a massive understatement. The fabric was thick, layers and layers of silk and glitter draped over each other to make a thing of dreams. The delicate straps of it felt like gauze, slipping over your skin when you pulled it out in pure awe.

You couldn’t possibly wear something like this. You could never pull it off. You glanced at the mirror near your door, the skirts catching the light of your room and sparkling.

You’d be wearing a million stars sewn on your body.

Your phone chimed the very moment your weak fingers were about to drop the dress, a sacrilege that proved you unworthy of it.

Hope you liked it J I’ll pick you up at 7.

And he didn’t take your calls. He didn’t hear you out. He didn’t listen to you list the reasons why you couldn’t do this, shouldn’t do this.

Your heart was already beating drums in your chest, each set letting you know that it was misreading this gesture. Namjoon wasn’t wooing you with this dress. He was simply making sure you didn’t look like a garbage can next to him. After all, red carpets meant celebrities, paparazzi, superior expectations. He couldn’t afford to show up with someone looking like they had barely been able to put together an outfit fit for the walk.

After hours of trying, at five you gave up, beginning to get dressed.

You washed and dried your hair, putting it up in a roll that was easy and you had mastered for your interview. It couldn’t be faulted…maybe it was a little simple but hey, you hoped the attention wouldn’t be on your hair. Not with that dress…

As you had guessed, the dress was heavy, weighing your body down till you had to carefully bunch handfuls of the sparkling skirt just to walk. You paired it with the lowest heels you owned, and a simple silver set – a gift from your parents upon graduating.

The brilliant shade of lipstick applied, you prayed and prayed that Namjoon wouldn’t find you disappointing. Of course, only so; that you wouldn’t be a source of embarrassment to him and HYBE and Smeraldo. It had nothing to do with you wishing you could be swallowed by the earth if Namjoon looked even slightly put off.

He arrived sharp at seven, even climbing out to greet you. Your trip in the elevator had been thankfully solo. No peeking neighbors to comment on your appearance but of course the building manager caught sight of you, gaping through the glass door of his office. You hoped he wouldn’t attempt to raise your rent.

Sleek and pristine in a black suit and silver shirt, open at the throat, your breath did catch at the vision he made. His hair was pushed back now and he grinned when you slowly tottered over. “Hi,” he said simply, eyes glinting in the glow of the dress.

“Hey, you didn’t take my calls.” You blurted out, again wanting to smack yourself.

“Yeah, I’m sorry; I got busy with speech training and fittings. They messed up though; I’m wearing shoes one size big.” You and he both glanced down at the polished black shoes with silver toes. you shook your head at the distraction.

“Namjoon, this dress…it’s too much; I can’t say anything right now but thank you.”

“Don’t thank me – it was Taehyung who picked it out.” His eyes moved down the dress before he looked away suddenly, hand moving to rub his neck. “You look great – beautiful, I mean.”

“Thank you.”

“Shall we?”

Namjoon helped you climb into the car, bending down so he could collect about nine drapes and pleats of silk to lay them on the car floor before shutting you in. You glanced at the driver of the Cadillac that Namjoon had brought and decided to stay mum for the drive.

The sprawling expanse of the hall where the gala was taking place sent you into nervous jitters. You touched the edge of the top, wondering if it was tight enough, if the necklace was enough to draw attention away. Of course, the dress was the highlight of your outfit, but suddenly all you could think of were the faux pas that could get you kicked out and possibly fired.

You had no time to turn to Namjoon with these worries, to beg him to allow you to stay in the car when valets were opening the doors.

Flashing lights, camera with too bright heads blinded you momentarily and all you heard was a quiet ‘wait’ from Namjoon before he was exiting the car.

He shot easy smiles at the front line of the media before turning to assist you. Maybe they realized that Kim Namjoon had indeed brought someone with him because the screams increased in pitch and volume, deafening you as well.

You were completely disoriented when you felt Namjoon’s arm go casually around your waist, one hand still holding your skirts so he could walk you at least to the main photo calls and away from the paps.

“Hey, easy, okay, they’re always like that. Are you okay?” Namjoon mumbled in your ear when you were a safe distance away, turning you to face him.

“Yeah…yeah, I’m okay…I just…wow, it’s a lot to take in.” You grabbed the skirts that Namjoon had let go and began to set them around you properly.

“Okay, all we have to do is walk this bit, get some photos, talk to that man at the end and then we can head in.”

You followed Namjoon's instructions quietly. Smiling lightly, when Namjoon posed in the centre of the carpet with the logo of the sponsors behind you two; Your posture probably wasn’t the most glamorous because the camera man shrugged before letting you pass – to the interviewer.

“Kim. Namjoon.” The white suited man gasped as if Namjoon had just landed from outer space and said something scandalizing.

“Oh dear, should I be worried?” Namjoon laughed breezily but his hold on your back stiffened.

“Not at all, it seems…who is the lucky lady? We’ve never seen you. Are we finally seeing the elusive RM being snatched up off the market?” The man took the time to level a polite smile at you before Namjoon waved his hand.

“Rubbish; I could never hope to snag someone like her. This is my friend; she’s accompanying me as part of a job.”

You noticed he never gave your name, thankfully.

“Ah…just friends? Pity, you look stunning together.”

“She is stunning but I would never claim to be as lucky as that. Do please excuse us, heels and all.” The interviewer laughed as Namjoon ushered you inside the hall.

Your smile had glazed over by now and when Namjoon sat you in one of the chairs next to him, you made sure to not move too much while he had to mingle.

As heavy as the gown was, the weight of it was something completely different now. Your wings had wilted back into nothingness, bringing you down to the earth with a less than pleasant thump.

Here, in the hall with actual stars around you, it didn’t matter if stars covered your body tonight. You couldn’t be part of this. You belonged in your cubicle at Smeraldo with books that had been your lifelong companions.

You weren’t stupid. You knew Namjoon being an idol was a consequence as well as reality. His proximity had blinded you, with those bewildering smiles and irresistible dimples. He’d poetically woven a spell that with him being now gone was breaking.

You were worlds apart.

Maybe this could be a story someday.

But it would never be reality.

***

Your realization couldn’t have come at a more opportune moment. As days went by, time spent with Namjoon waned; instead you went back to your little pastel cubicle, typing away at your laptop, pouring facts mixed with sentiment onto the digital document.

Soon, pages of this would be flying off the shelves along with an album. Your connection with Namjoon would be severed and you both would part ways as acquaintances.

That would be that. You tried not to think too much of it like that. It colored your work a little melancholy and you’d have to go back and redo it so it would be upbeat.

It was one of those days of you clacking away when a shadow fell over your cubicle. You didn’t lift your eyes at first, engrossed in the mild noises your keys made when the presence started to…feel hostile. You glanced up curiously, meeting the curve of an arm first and perched on it, was the weight of Kayla.

She wasn’t looking at you; instead her eyes were on the screen of your laptop, reading your work with a tilt to her head that – to you – was condescending.

“Kayla,” You called in confusion and her eyes flitted to you.

“Carry on, carry on, I’m just going to watch. I want to see how you’re going to do this.” Maybe you were paranoid…but she definitely sounded snide.

“Do what, type…?” you mumbled under your breath, about to turn back to work but she heard you and decided to answer.

“I want to see the new worker ruin Namjoon’s story. That way we can all go back to our normal lives.”

You stopped. Your eyes widened in surprise at the blatant vehemence. You turned to her.

“Excuse me, but I’m not ruining anything. It was you, who decided to sleep in and you who missed the meeting. If anything, you’re the one who ruined your shot.”

“It wasn’t a ‘shot’ for me, Y/N. It was a guaranteed project. I was sick, it happens. I’m just surprised they let the newbie take on such a big collab. But then again, being a lapdog pays in this industry. Connections are more important than talent, I’ve heard.”

“Yeah, you definitely would be the one doing Namjoon’s story justice with that attitude.” You snapped back. If there was one thing you wouldn’t stand for, it was her sullying Rena.

She smiled again, removing herself from your cubicle wall. “Petty fights don’t matter to me, Y/N. I’m still your senior and soon enough I’ll be back to doing my rightful share of work.” She walked off in a very final manner, leaving you to stare after her a good while before you could turn back to your screen.

The blinking cursor taunted you, each second that passed without it budging, a point in proving that Kayla may have been right. You growled internally, rubbing your dry eyes.

You needed a change of view.

***

Your laptop was now perched on the same table you and Namjoon had sat on that first day. Your back was to the rest of the café, eyes free to drift out the window. You sipped on a simple smoothie and tapped away, making good progress. At this rate you could hand in the first draft in less than a week. A hundred pages worth of a booklet formed much easier when your mind was clear. You wondered again if you could change places here.

You hoped at least this way you’d be safely out of Namjoon’s path and could also enjoy the lovely environment of the building. After all, one sin didn’t have to equate to ditching another, did it?

No sooner had your mind finished that thought when you heard his voice. Your fingers rattled over your keyboard, printing the stupid version of words on your screen and you had to halt in case he had seen you and was coming over.

When you didn’t hear that cheerful deep voice that was now uncomfortably familiar to you approach from behind, you took the chance to peek over your shoulder, just to see how he was – just that.

He wasn’t alone, thankfully. Next to him stood another familiar figure; much shorter and just as broad. Min Yoongi hadn’t been very verbose with you when you’d been introduced but then again, you knew the man wasn’t a fan of small talk with strangers. He was under no obligation to chat you up and you weren’t expecting him to either.

They finally picked up their orders, sitting at one of the tables in your line - Comfortably far away so that they wouldn’t notice you; but also within earshot of you. You sighed, returning your attention to the document on your screen.

“So, how’s the book coming? Any news yet?” You heard Yoongi’s baritone.

“Not yet, but I’m sure it’s going to come along fast. Give or take a few days maybe,” Namjoon took a loud gulp, scrolling through his phone.

“I hope so. She was new, wasn’t she? I didn’t remember seeing her when it was my turn. It was that other girl…Kayla something. What’s your girl’s name again?”

You silently cleared your throat, expecting Namjoon to snap in that you weren’t ‘his girl’ but he only hummed. “It’s Y/N. We messed up that day, called her Kayla. Guess we must have thrown her off her game that whole day, but she was amazingly professional. It was stupid too, that email was sitting right in the office email, and an intern missed it and didn’t tell us.”

“That’s what happens when you don’t treat your workers right. Even interns are deserving of respect. Maybe if they were catered to the way the company expects them to cater to it, it would -,”

“Hyung, I love your rants – but please.”

Yoongi shrugged, taking a bite out of his sandwich. You cracked a smile, biting your lip to stifle a giggle at Namjoon’s dazed expression.

“So, what’s she like? You hung out with her quite a lot.” Yoongi’s voice dipped, muttering something to Namjoon whose fingers stopped scrolling, a pensive expression on his face now. You glanced back at your screen, frowning, wondering what Yoongi must’ve said.

Namjoon didn’t answer for a long time and you had to keep glancing over, just in case he was actually muttering too and you were just not hearing anything but nope. He remained silent for a good long while, staring down at the coffee cup in front of him.

“I think…I think I would’ve preferred to work with this Kayla.”

You froze, your fingers hovering over the keys, making zero noise. You wished the other people in the café would quiet down and Namjoon would repeat himself but only this time you’d hear something else, something positive, something not so utterly crushing.

“Oh, she’s not up to the standard?” Yoongi asked.

“It’s…its stupid. I know it’s a shitty thing for me to say, but -,” But he was still going to go ahead and do it. He was still going to get those words out, unaware that you were able to hear him and have your gut wrenched.

What was wrong with you? Why were you not good enough to work with Kim Namjoon? Was it the rambling or blurting out thing? Was it the inability to retain composure? Had you messed up during a meeting that he was holding a grudge against? Did you somehow embarrass him during the gala? Had he already complained about you to his management and members, told them that this was the last time you were to work with them?

They had hushed up now, clearly having a private conversation and you were thankful. You didn’t know how you could handle hearing more. And you definitely didn’t want the rest of HYBE staff to hear how pathetic you were to their stars. If word got back to Smeraldo, you’d be fired. You’d lose everything.

You shut the laptop screen quietly, a hand sliding your things from the table top straight into your bag. Slinging your stuff onto your shoulders, you walked out of the room – out of the building – away from anything related to BTS.

***

You were resolute the next day, walking into Smeraldo with no words of greeting spoken to anyone. You got to your floor and then marched straight into Rena’s office, hurriedly knocking the prologue to the urgency of your matter.

“Y/N, what’s wrong? Did something happen?” Rena frowned, actually getting up from her seat when you stumbled in.

Something did happen, yes. I got way in over my head.

“I…I…need to um, change – the BTS project. I can’t do it anymore.” The words rushed out, thick and unintelligible but Rena apparently got the gist of it because she dropped her shoulders, crossing her arms.

“What happened?” she asked flatly.

I have a crush on my subject and he thinks I’m the worst thing to happen since the rise of patriarchy.

“Nothing serious; I just…I’m not cut out for this Rena. I told you that day of the meeting. It’s too much, I can barely sleep, can’t eat.”

Ok, provided that was only one day because your mind was too obsessed thinking about what you heard but still – you could definitely apply the cases.

“What are you talking about? You just gave me your stats two days ago. You were fifty three pages in and climbing.”

“Yeah well I’m not happy with it. I’ve been writing in a daze. Please Rena.” You begged; you’d have gotten on your knees at that point but mercifully, after about nine seconds of shrewdly eyeing you, she finally sighed.

“Well, I can’t say I’m not disappointed – and very, very surprised. You’re one of the better writers at Smeraldo, Y/N; I wouldn’t have pushed you for this if you weren’t. I believed in you. But I can’t make you work if you’re not happy and I certainly can’t let it affect this collaboration. It wouldn’t help anyone – so…fine. We’ll make the change. I’ll have the boss send an email…and you can personally go and hand Kayla all your material on the job so she can start as soon as possible. We still have time to make it up I think.”

You nodded, surreptitiously wiping a streak of moisture that had escaped without notice before you paused. And then you put in a request for Rena to consider before grabbing all your notes, drafts and your work laptop and walking up to Kayla’s more spacious cubicle.

She was reading a magazine when you tapped the side wall, eyes rising up to yours before her eyebrows raised at the amount of things you were carrying. Without preamble, you let them crash on to her neat desk.

“Uh, what the hell are you doing?”

“I’m not doing Namjoon’s bio anymore. They want you to do it.” Namjoon wanted her, in particular.

Kayla stopped scowling, looking at you in confusion before her face darkened again. “Listen Y/N, I don’t care much for charity -,”

“It’s not. I swear it’s not Kayla. I really, really can’t do it anymore. Please…please just take it off my hands.”

Slowly, her face cleared, eyes still examining yours for any insincerity before she picked up your notebook, carding through the pages.

“It’s a little shocking, I’ll admit but fine. But you…why are you giving it up? It’s BTS. It’s probably the biggest break you’d ever get.”

You shrugged, unwilling to converse more than necessary about this. “I just felt bad…and ill about it.” You didn’t exaggerate and Kayla didn’t ask you to elaborate. You glanced down at the biggest bag which you’d placed under her desk. The box was still exquisitely white and unblemished.

“Can you just do me one last favor?”

“What?”

“When you see Namjoon, can you give that bag back to him? Tell him thanks for everything.”

***

The days passed quickly, each one easier than the last as you decided to stuff your stupid, pointless feelings – hurt and otherwise into one single compartment: DO NOT TOUCH.

Namjoon had had to meet with Kayla quickly, to put in effect the plans that the senior writer was going to play with. She already had your notes, but they would still have to spend some time together just so she could get a feel of his prologue and run with it.

It had taken about two visits from Kayla before your phone started to act up.

He sent a text first. At a decent time…you were at work, taking a small break when the ping came. You promptly slid the notification aside and pushed the nagging in your head to look at it into that one compartment. An hour passed…then another before another message came. You couldn’t help but glance at the words even as you slid it out of focus.

Are you ok? What’s going on?

Namjoon didn’t text again for the remainder of the day and you heaved a sigh of relief. It would be easier to not mess with that box of goodies in your head if only anything pertaining to Kim Namjoon was taken out of your path.

Only…he decided to call you…

As soon as you entered your little apartment and took off your shoes, flexing your toes, the trill of your ringtone made you fumble in your bag. You almost slid the call to accept, catching yourself just in time when you saw the big white KIM NAMJOON flashing on the ID.

You stared at the name, a proverbial finger dancing over the latch of the compartment. But you couldn’t…you couldn’t mope over him again; you had given an entire day of wallowing up to his name.

Again, you heard him preferring Kayla. You placed the phone onto the coffee table and went into the bathroom to change.

Namjoon’s persistence remained impressive though. He called and texted every day ranging from thrice to five times. Almost every time you frowned. You had given him Kayla. What more could he want? He was desperate to know if you were okay, wondering if something had happened to you and that Smeraldo was trying to cover it up but you couldn’t bring yourself to put him at ease.

Also, it was getting steadily difficult to keep his name out of your life. BTS was worldwide, he was a global entity. He was everywhere…the media, the news, there were even fucking standees in malls for them.

But your job was keeping you busy, mercifully.

The day you had gone to Rena to ask her to put Kayla on the bio project and take you off, you’d also asked to be moved to a different section of jobs, just for the time being – till you could come back to yourself, or so you told her.

In reality, the editing and beta reader position that you now held was time consuming and kept you focused and engrossed enough to not think about the idol. Not every piece of writing was amazing, but fiction was fiction and you gladly succumbed to romances and fantasies that were wildly improbable - simply because they were possible in their worlds.

You could not be more grateful to Rena for this. You finished more than your quota of three manuscripts a day, sometimes even staying up at night if one was particularly interesting. You knew you’d have to go back to writing someday but for now, you wanted to do a good job so you wouldn’t let down Rena more than you already had.

You shuddered to think of returning to your laptop. It was a mistake to think that you were cut out for this job. There was a certain level of coldness required to be a writer – the sheaves of paper in front of you proved that. You had none of that ruthlessness in you. You were too soft, too sheltered. You had grown attached to a subject that you were supposed to present as facts. Instead you had painted him in a fantastic palette of misdirected emotions that he was under no obligation to act upon.

And so now you were hurt…and it was your own fault.

To write again, you would first need a spine, one forged in titanium instead of the malleable clay that had wrapped around the fingers of others so easily.

In some days of your ruminations…Namjoon stopped calling and texting and you were then rudely interrupted by Kayla, striding over to deliver news you hadn’t asked for.

“Mr. Kim took the dress back.” she announced as soon as she pressed herself at your desk. You looked up from your fourth manuscript of the day, peering at her through your glasses. Your back was sore and your neck felt lodged.

“He’s asking about you.”

“Okay,” you said slowly, clearing your throat before reaching for a bottle of water. “I’m okay.”

“He said he reached out but you never responded. Why don’t you respond? He’s obviously concerned.” She continued, putting an unnecessary emphasis on ‘obviously’. It irked you.

“He was my subject matter. Now he’s not. It’s inappropriate.” You barely kept from snapping, shrugging noncommittally. Kayla was still there, eyeing you in that way, that made you feel smaller than her.

“Well, I don’t think he feels it’s inappropriate. He’s enquiring about someone he considers a friend. He’s been known to care about friends.”

You put the manuscript down finally. You looked up at her blankly but she didn’t flinch. Instead Kayla returned your heavy look with one of hers, raking you down with an appraising look. After a few moments of silence she gracefully straightened and turned on her heel, returning to her cubicle.

You picked up your manuscript again.

***

The cursor was blinking again. The walls of your cubicle needed a wipe down. Some of the pens in your drawer needed replacing. You revolved on your chair once – twice – thrice before facing the darn cursor again.

It had been two days since Rena had asked (basically commanded) you to return to your original post. One because you had gotten through the work she’d set aside for you. Second because Smeraldo’s projects were lining up and they needed their writers to buck up. You being one of them now needed to get in the game.

Or you would lose your job. After all, even though Rena treated you like a sister, it didn't mean she was going to baby you forever. Her own job would be on the line.

So you returned, starting out slow, with slogans and advertising scripts. Only…advertisements meant media research…and you knew what you were going to see the first thing you delved into that.

When your phone rang, you were almost eager to get to it. Namjoon hadn’t called in a while – it was safe again. You glanced at the unfamiliar number once, curious before you pressed the accepted call to your ear.

“Hello?”

“Y/N,”

The deep thrum of his voice reverberated in your ear, travelling straight through your heart – setting it to thump unsteadily – and landed deep in your belly, burning uncomfortably.

Your fingers tightened around the device, unable to speak, unable to pull it away from your ear, unable to comprehend simply hanging up. Instead you helplessly muttered his name. The two syllables were heavy on your tongue, some emotion injected in them that you doubted he could sense over the phone.

It irked you that you had so easily been caught unaware. You had paid attention to every text, every call for so long, swiping him out of your sight to avoid the temptation and here he was, smartening up and using another number altogether.

You guessed his IQ really did pay off.

When he spoke again, there was no weight in his tenor, no sense of concern that Kayla had said he felt about your absence. If anything he sounded cold, indifferent – as if you were just another person he was talking to.

And you were...you couldn’t mean anything to him.

“How have you been? It’s been quite some time.” He said, formal, aloof.

“Yeah, I’ve...I’ve been keeping busy. What...about you? How are you?” You mumbled.

“I’m fine. The bio is going on fine, I heard from Kayla.” He seemed to be moving while he spoke, you could hear distinct shuffles around him.

“That’s nice. So, is something wrong? Did you need something? If you lost Kayla’s number –”

“Can I not call you unless there was something wrong?” he cut you off smoothly, pleasant while you stumbled to correct yourself.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that. I was just –”

“Anyway, so the boys wanted to throw a party in celebration of the album finalization. It’s a dinner and games thing so be prepared to be bored if you’re not into that. They wanted to invite you because you were part of the bio making process.”

They...they were inviting you, not him. It seemed silly, to be stung by such a tiny little detail but you couldn’t help the down-turn of your lips, the frown settling upon your brows. “What about Kayla?”

“I don’t know, maybe one of the boys will get to it. So, do I count you in?”

“Why me, Namjoon, I left the project, didn’t I?”

“Is that a no?”

You sighed, annoyance surging at the way he deliberately ignored your pointed remarks. “Fine, I’ll be there.”

“See you at 7. You know where the dorm is. Just tell the front desk you’re here for BTS and give them your name.”

He hung up before you could spill out another question, pose another objection. You looked irate at the blackened screen, feeling used and mocked yet again. He had reached you so long after you cut him off and he had had the gall to sound miffed with you? You stuffed the phone back into your back.

The evening would last long. You vowed that this would be the last time you would have anything to do with Kim Namjoon.

***

You had been intimidated by the idea of BTS before. After spending a few days with Namjoon, you could appreciate them being normal men, seven men who just wanted to make music, who were young, a little dorky but overall just themselves.

Coming here, standing in front and looking up at the gigantic building that housed the dorm of BTS and their separate private apartments, you could only feel the previous nerves spiking again.

Your fingers were shaky as you pushed open the heavy glass door, thick enough to stop bullets and made your way to the marble front desk.

The concierge, decked out in a cream vest outfit, politely smiled at your approach – too professional to not rove his eye critically over your modest dress. You were at the dorm of BTS, after all. You couldn’t show up in jeans for a dinner party.

He nodded when you relayed your name, giving Namjoon’s reference which had them flurry to get you an elevator. Once trapped in the sleek metal box, the chiming numbers indicated your rising panic.

What were you doing?

Why were you here?

You had cut them out of your life for a reason. Why would you willingly show up again? Inside, of course, you knew the reason. You had unsettled issues. You wanted to talk this out with him. But you couldn’t – which again, added to the question as to why you would accept his invitation in the first place?

There was no way you were brave enough to stand in front of Kim Namjoon and ask him to explain himself.

When the doors opened; the wide hallway only led to one set of double doors. You looked around once; just to make sure that you were on the right floor and not about to barge into some unwitting souls’ suite.

Walking to the etched wood, you knocked a hurried patter that sounded abnormally loud. You didn’t even have to wait long. The door swung open almost immediately, as if he was waiting right inside for you.

Namjoon stood in a simple black long sleeve, rolled up till his elbows. His jeans stretched tightly along the length of those legs. Huh, he was wearing jeans...go figure...

“Come in Y/N.” He said, walking back into the house. You followed, slower, clutching your bag strap like the first day.

It was...relatively clean, being the house full of men. It was also too big for you to take in everything. You supposed they needed the space, each one with a personality of their own but together all the time. You wondered if they had studios in the two storey house too.

You focused on Namjoon, who had by now moved to the sitting area, flicking through some pages, not paying any attention to you. There was no sound. No one came to greet you, not even Jin who you thought was the actual host.

It was...suspiciously quiet.

“Namjoon,” You called. “Where is everyone?”

The man only shrugged his shoulders for a second and it seemed that he wasn’t about to answer your question at all. However, at the very last moment when you were about to repeat yourself unwillingly, he muttered. “They went out to eat.”

What?

They were out to eat? After calling you over to have dinner and play games?

“So...we have to go and join them or something?” you asked.

Namjoon sighed painstakingly, as if you were disturbing his peace but he finally dropped the papers onto the coffee table and stood up, hands in his pockets.

“No, Y/N, we’re not going to join them.”

What the hell was going on here exactly?

“We’re going to talk.”

You had opened your mouth when he finished his sentence, pausing in contemplation to what he could possibly want to talk about. “What are you talking about?”

“I’m saying I want answers, Y/N. Why did you stop coming over all of a sudden? Why did you stop working on the bio and give it to Kayla? Why didn’t you pick up your phone when I called you? Why didn’t you answer my texts? What the fuck happened?”

You blinked, once, staring at him in shock mingled with annoyance. There was a lot to Kim Namjoon; you would be the first to admit it. But you never took him to be this cruel.

“Why are you even asking me these questions? I wasn’t competent enough for you. So I did the right thing, I gave the work to someone who could match your standards. End of story; I don’t understand why you had to bring me here.” Your vehemence faded by the end of it, leaving you to drop your head and mumble half the words at your shoes.

You kept staring down when Namjoon didn’t say anything in retaliation. Seconds ticked by and finally you had to glance up to see Namjoon’s face tight, jaw clenched and he drummed his fingers over crossed arms.

“Unfortunately,” He began when your eyes met. “Doubt and Insecurity are two things that every artist struggles with in their line of work. There are no ways around them; you simply have to push through them. Work through them, Y/N; but you can’t let it take you away from your passion. If you felt doubtful of yourself, you should’ve talked to me, or any of us...you didn’t have to brand yourself incompetent and give into this negativity.”

If you had two cents of courage you would’ve screamed at him. Indeed, Kim Namjoon was a cruel man – a blind man.

And your nerves had finally grown into something more ferocious.

“I gave in? I’m sorry, Namjoon, but when your client is the one that ‘brands’ you incompetent, you kind of have to give in. You are the one who said you preferred Kayla. So I gave you exactly what you wanted. So stop pretending like you care about my insecurities and my doubts.”

Namjoon gaped at you like a fish, eyes wide and thoroughly confused. He held up a hand immediately. “What the hell are you talking about?”

You snapped. “I heard you, that day, talking to Yoongi about how you would’ve preferred it if it was Kayla who was working on the bio rather than me. If I was bothering you that much or if you found me – I don’t know, not a good writer, you could’ve at least been professional about it. You could’ve emailed the company and asked for a switch, instead of bad-mouthing me to your damn members!”

Both of Namjoon’s hands were up in the air now, defensively. His eyes flickered around his house as he attempted to place the scenario you were describing to him. You saw the light bulb go off about a few seconds after. His demeanour changed immediately. His hands lowered, face cleared and his eyes scrunched before he did the worst thing imaginable that he could’ve done at that moment.

He laughed.

His body bent forward, hands clasping his stomach as his shoulders shook. His head dipped, chortles echoing around you as you stood rooted to your spot, stricken by his mirth.

In the moments that he managed to raise his head, he caught sight of you and laughed again, eyes watering.

You were seeing red. His frame lit up in flames in your head, fuelling you to whirl about on your heel. You marched away, almost at the door when fingers wrapped around your elbow, stopping your next steps.

You turned, seeing Namjoon already there, still smiling.

“Let me go.” You said firmly.

“I didn’t say I would’ve preferred Kayla to you because I thought you weren’t a good fit for the job, Y/N.” He said instead, hand loosening on your arm but not quite letting go. “I said it because...well, I was afraid I would be breaching our contract. Since...I kind of wanted to take you out.”

You stood there, watching Namjoon’s eyes flicker between yours, waiting for a reaction. His hand was still loosely cupping your elbow, fingers warm and splayed out over the skin. His thumb briefly brushed over the bone as if checking that you hadn’t frozen over.

But you had...you were standing stock still, staring up at the idol, uncomprehending the words that had spilled out of him. He had just said something very controversial, very brave...and very confusing.

You thought back to all your hangouts. The long talks that you scribbled down with your tongue poking out the corner of your mouth, the walks that you took, sometimes huddling together with shivers due to the cold weather, sharing hot coffees and chocolate ice creams. Telling him about yourself when he wanted a break and needed to listen instead of supply conversation. Then they changed to his texts, the good morning or good night texts that he would send, the occasional music recommendations and book suggestions.

And then the night of the Gala...that stunning dress...his behaviour...

Nowhere in any of these cases had you seen anything that spelled anything other than friends being friends. He had never flirted brazenly with you, simple banter being the only form of cheek you could recall. He was after all; your client and anything that could offend or upset him would result in your suspension.

“That’s...that’s...impossible. You never – not even once – I didn’t ever get the idea, not ever,” You fumbled over your words, pulling away or trying to once again but Namjoon shrugged, smiling sardonically.

“Well, I couldn’t exactly come out and say it, could I? You were working with me, for my company. I know the kind of pressure you must’ve been under. If I did say something, you’d have been obliged to agree because you’d think you owed it or something, just to keep the job. I didn’t really want to put you in the spot like that. The night of the gala I got carried away. I had a plus one and if I had to take someone, I wanted it to be you. I begged Taehyung to put the outfit together because I’m shit at high end fashion but you looked absolutely gorgeous and yeah, I owe Tae a thousand favours now but it was worth it.” He took a breath.

“I was waiting for the project to be over so I could actually, properly ask you out but well, I guess you heard me being an idiot that day and...” he waved his free hand vaguely.

“Oh,” you mumbled, your eyes leaving him and travelling back down to the floor. What else could you say? Sorry, I was eavesdropping on your conversation and got my feelings hurt and acted like a child? Yeah, you didn’t think that’d go over well.

“Which brings me to the question, why did you stop?” His thumb brushed over your skin again, prodding your attention to him and you shrugged like him, mumbling something about doing right by the client.

“Bullshit, if you wanted to do right by the client, you would’ve waited for me to say something. Changing people like that could’ve resulted in a breach lawsuit and I doubt you’d have risked that.”

You looked up at him again, irritated. Why did he have to poke holes in your admittedly stupid story? Hadn’t he shaken your world enough by telling you that THE KIM NAMJOON wanted to ask you out?

“You hurt me.” You hissed. “You made me think I was inept and it hurt my feelings because I’ve been attached to you and this book since day one. I finished the bio at home, for fuck’s sake. I lost objectivity when it came to you because you’re adorable, scary smart, caring, generous, a total goof and it doesn’t help that you look like a damn sculpture all the time.”

You yanked your arm one last time, successful this time around because Namjoon smiled widely, shyly, deep dimples poking into his cheeks that had you internally melting from how cute he was.

“I want to kiss you.” he said simply. “May I?”

What were you going to do, say no?

Instead, horrifyingly you started to sniffle. “You better, because I’m really ashamed right now and I will start crying.”

Namjoon was quick to cup your face, cooing over your squished cheeks in his large palms and he brought you closer, closer and closer to himself. Your hands clutched at the sleeves of his shirt while he pecked you lightly, dropping a flurry of equally soft and fast pecks on your cheek, the tip of your nose and chin before returning to your lips, delving deeper, testing the waters.

Your eyes fell shut, revelling in the plumpness of his lips as he delicately trailed them over yours, smacking kisses over you till you let out a giggle.

“Finally, she smiles.” Namjoon beamed at you, leading you back until you were gently propped against the door, your head comfortably resting on the wood and he deepened the kiss, bowing and moulding his body with yours.

“Should we be doing this here?” You asked nervously, when his lips began to travel over your jaw.

“The boys won’t be back for a while but we can head to my room if you want?” He wriggled his eyebrows at you, heat pooling into the skin he still held between his hands.

“Uh, I’m good here.” You muttered to his amusement. His eyes travelled back to your mouth, eyes hooding and then he was slowly leaning in again. You met him halfway and his mouth opened with the barest brush of tongue when loud pounding sounded right on the other side of the doorway, laughter and footfalls sounding the arrival of the rest of the band.

You moved away just as the door flung open, six boys piling in, “Can you believe none of us thought to grab our wallets, we have to go back and tell manager-nim to get the car again –” Jin grumbled with the boys stopping to gape at you in Namjoon’s arms as the two of you blinked at them like deer in headlights.

Then chaos erupted.

The whoops and cheers of ‘finally’ made you drop your head in a shy grin with Namjoon groaning behind you.

“Namjoonie finally got some!”

“OH SHUT UP!”

#thebtswritersclub #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #btshoneyhive #namjoon fanfic #bts fanfic #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #bts fluff #bts angst #bts #namjoon x reader #namjoon

103 notes · View notes

golddaggers · 6 years ago

Text

untouched || chapter two

gif’s not mine!

pairings: alpha!thor/omega!reader, mainly, some thor/natasha and natasha/reader (friendship guys).

warnings: just a whole lot of fluff, thor acting as a father figure, mentions to arousal, but eh, nothing explicit, don’t need to worry about people behind ya! haha

a/n: i know. two fucking months to get this out. but life has been so so so messy and i got that writer’s block bad guys. it’s here though, i sincerely hope it was worth the wait!

word count: 7,8k+

song to this chapter: delicate by taylor swift

A gush of cool air ripples across the room, stirring Feisty awake yet again that morning, her achy body groaning in pain when she curled under the sheets, seeking warmth, gripping the pillow that still smelt like him. Petrichor strong in the back of her mouth. It soothed her, pinning her down to the room, bringing joy to her eyes.

Thor, unfortunately, was no longer there. He had left a little past five am and despite doing everything to keep quiet, Feisty jolted awake with the lack of him nestling her in his arms. The lack of his broad, strong chest pressed to her back, thick fingers swirling on the skin of her tummy that glowed bare. Something she never knew she wanted until she experienced it.

The whine she let out still pooled blood on the back of her neck, embarrassed of her actions. There were stories about the attachment of a new Omega to the Alpha of a pack, which often ended as soon as a new one joined the pack. A tinge of jealousy widens her eyes as she realised she didn’t want that to come to an end. Yes. It would be nice to not feel so heightened around him, as if he switches on a button inside her, lowering everything and yet keeping her running. But the way he made her feel protected? That she didn’t. She wished nothing but to sleep between his arms every night, hear the thrumming of his heart as he dozes off into sleep, snoring lightly.

After so long, more time than she would ever admit, she had had a decent night of sleep. Although the reminiscents of the prior day still made themselves very noticeable, Feisty felt somewhat relaxed. At peace.

Gazing over at a small clock on the wall, one that the woman failed to notice up until earlier that morning, she realised she still had a few minutes to just lie there. Soaked in her thoughts. She wished her mother could be here with her to instruct as to how to act with all these new things happening. All these experiences she hadn’t had before.

A low sigh escaped while she buried her face back on the pillow, closing her eyes and wondering to herself what would she do that day. Nat hadn’t given her a schedule or something like that, so she wasn’t sure if today they were going to go back to the mat and punch some more sandbags or do something else entirely. Perhaps Steve would steal her away to show the rest of the property like he promised he’d do the night before, at dinner.

The meal with the others was nice, they were welcoming and overall gentle with her, though Feisty was sure they were only doing what Thor must’ve told them to do. With Steve, however, it was just different. She could tell he genuinely wanted to talk to her, to listen as she went on about old grannies from the nursing home. It was oddly satisfying. Refreshing even.

Flipping onto her back, eyes still sealed shut, she allowed her mind to spin around his beauty. Maybe there was something in the water that made those wolves so absurdly beautiful. The blond hair swept to one side, sweet blue eyes shining when he spoke about his teen years, squared chin and a strong body that certainly put many of his fellow pack members to shame.

The ink and old parchment smell was easy on her nose, drawing her in. It wasn’t quite like Thor’s. Not even remotely close. Still, when he leaned in closer to whisper some joke on her ear, the odour made her feel at ease. Ugh. That house was a festival of scents that got Feisty feeling funny.

Sounds from the outside stole her attention away, the girl reassuring herself briefly that it was better not to focus on that. Men, Alphas, in particular, were nothing but trouble. At least, it was what she wanted to believe in.

Still putting her mind into the chirping birds sound, she stands up, heading to the bathroom to at least brush her teeth. This time nobody brought food to her bedroom, which meant she'd have to go to the kitchen herself. Not that she was expecting to be treated like that all the time, but the thought of people catching her making herself food made her nervous. Like she was stealing or something on those lines.

With a heavy sigh, she splashed water on her face, drying it swiftly with a fluffy towel by the sink. Glaring at herself in the mirror, Feisty huffed, noticing that she still had bags under her eyes regardless of sleeping well the night prior. It would take a lot more than two days to recover from all sleepless nights she's had.

Cleaning her teeth felt incredible and so did combing her hair up in a ponytail, deciding that she'd only shower after a good walk around the house. She slipped on a pair of black leggings and a pink tank top, shoving the pyjamas in the back of her wardrobe in a messy pile.

Feet in flip flops, Feisty went out to an empty corridor, taking careful steps towards the kitchen. Everyone was probably already up and about, nonetheless, there was still a lingering need to keep it quiet, sure to not bother any single living soul.

While she made her way downstairs, she noticed a few paintings hanging on the wall, from a long line of immeasurably gorgeous people. Women, men. Families even. This house was older than she thought it to be. At last, by the staircase, there was his picture. Blond hair pulled back, fair strands framing his handsome face still, a long beard, enough to have it braided, and eyes. Electric blue, so poorly depicted. A chill ran down her spine as she remembered it. It was art, in the literal sense of the word. It could’ve been the creative imagination of a painter if she hadn’t seen his beauty with her own eyes.

Only then it came down to her that this house, it had been passing on through the generations of the supreme Alphas. She was standing in the wooden ground where the most powerful wolves, ones that lead revolutions, had stood years and years before. It made her feel fuzzy. Actual history had happened within these very walls.

“I must say it’s not exactly my most endearing portrait.” A whiskey deep voice came from behind, Thor towering as he stood beside her. A surprised gasp slipping as she failed to notice him approaching. “How are you feeling today, little wolf?”

“Good,” She shrugs, “I was going downstairs to eat.”

“Wanda made pancakes today,” One heavy hand falls to her hip, guiding her down, “Do you like it?”

“Yes, of course!” Cocking a brow, she musters an act of unknown courage to joke, “Who in their right mind doesn’t?”

“Believe me, Bruce utterly hates it.” His laugh is light, melodic, it has Feisty unconsciously leaning towards him, a grin beaming on her face, “Come. I can tell you need food.”

As if it was agreeing with him, her stomach groaned, Feisty placing a hand over her tummy to muffle it. Thor simply chuckled, inching her closer to him, fingers going up so he could have an arm draped around her shoulder, a place she fit way too easily. He was warm, welcoming. Exactly like the bed she had left.

The kitchen was packed with a couple of toddlers. Morgan and Harvey were soundly asleep in a bassinet, tiny hands together. There were four more at the table, one little girl and three boys. She had to be about six years old and the most adorable kid Feisty had ever seen - freckles peppered her pale skin, a blazing red hair falling in soft locks and green eyes sparkling as she saw Wanda approach her with a plate stacked with pancakes. She sat at the left corner of the table.

Then there were the boys. The first one that caught her attention was the eldest of them, he couldn’t be more than eleven years old, he just had a childish gleam in his blue eyes. Thor’s eyes. That boy was his miniature. So alike it gave her goosebumps. Maybe it was his son? She looked up at him, silently quizzing. His eyes met hers with tenderness, easily figuring out what she wanted to know.

“That’s Vithar, my baby brother.” The said boy scowls, rolling his eyes and muttering a curse under his breath, “Manners!”

“You know I hate that name with all my strength, Thor.” He counters, snorting. “And who is she?”

“Don’t be rude, Vi,” A second boy elbows him. Brown eyes kind. He was probably the same age as Vithar, she presumes, “I’m Sam, by the way. And that’s Humphrey, but we just call him Freddie. He’s new around here. Nat told us your name is Feisty? Is that true? Because that’s such a cool name!”

Humphrey was pale and nervous. Feisty had to refrain the urge to wrap him in a hug, relating to him in some sort of way. She was a shy kid herself, always seeming about to cry. Probably why the other kids picked up at her so much when she went to a public school in her early years. Sam, on the other hand, was tall and confident, a bright smile forever resting on his thin lips.

“You boys so silly,” The little girl says, quirking brows at them whilst rolling her eyes, “I’m Rosie.”

“I, um-” Thor pats you on the shoulder, in hopes to comfort you with all that interaction with the kids, “Yeah, I suppose you can call me Feisty.”

“Cool!” Sam screeched, “You’re going to help Auntie Wanda out? You look so nice! I mean, I can tell why Mr Thor likes you so much.”

“He does?” Her ears get suddenly warm, the boy earning a stern look from his Alpha.

“Enough,” Wanda finally intervenes, “You’re all scaring her! You know, they have the most unspeakable energy but are actually pretty nice when you get to know,” Tugging Feisty into a hug, Wanda presses a quick kiss on her cheek. She smells like white lilies. Soft and sweet. “Good morning, sweetheart. Why don’t you take a seat? I can fix you scrambled eggs or some toasts, what do you want to eat?”

“No, please, don’t bother doing anything else. Just the pancakes are good.”

“Okay. Right. Well, there’s coffee on the coffee pot.” She directs a glare towards the man beside Feisty, “Will you stay with us, Boss?”

After a brief nod from him, she goes back to the stove, pouring more of the sticky batter into the frying pan so more pancakes could be made. By now, the kids had swooped all of them into their plates, soaking with maple syrup. She snickered at the sight, accepting gladly when Thor puts her sitting down on one of the chairs at the table, whispering that he’d fetch her some coffee.

She shrinks a bit in her seat, her gaze lost over the children, fumbling with her fingers as she waits for Thor to sit next to her again. Rosie’s eyes inspect the new girl closely, chewing her pancakes slowly, a pout growing on her lips, which draws Feisty's attention, who tilts her head at the girl, frightened that she was going to start crying any time soon.

A tall, white mug filled with coffee appears in front of her, a hand squeezing her shoulder fondly, stealing her attention away from Rosie. She looks up at him, his blue irises blown, pupils very little. There's nothing but unspoken care swimming there.

It spreads a thick wave of peacefulness through her, eyes suddenly growing heavy. Thor lets out a harsh breath, sitting beside her, one large hand going to her knee, refraining the urge to rub his cheek against hers and then bury his face in the crook of her neck. It wasn't fair that she smelt so good.

Wanda placed a plate filled with food, three fat pancakes, scrambled eggs in one corner and two slices of bread on the other. It's more food than she thinks she's able to eat, but, fork in hand, Feisty digs in, humming lowly to taste, so scrumptious and easy to swallow.

"Where's Nat?" It's nearly a mute question, focus on the half-eaten pancake in front of her. "I thought we were going to pick up where we left off…?"

"Natasha is busy," Shrugging off, Thor steals a bit of her eggs, shoving a full spoon into his mouth, "You'll be with me today. Hope you don't mind."

"No. Not at all."

Their little chat came to an abrupt end when the seven-year-old girl ran off of the table crying. Feisty's eyes widen in shock while Thor sighed, possibly already knowing what was going on. He presses his cheek lightly on hers, mumbling that he'd be right back, that she shouldn't worry.

Still quiet, she watches him leave, walking in large steps towards the girl, gripping her by one ankle and bringing her back to the kitchen, tears still staining the flushed cheeks. He was carrying Rosie like she was a bratty pup. Wanda leans against the countertop, glaring as Thor sits Rosie back on her chair. The boys are laughing at this point.

"Now, leaving the table like that, especially when we have guests, it's not nice, is it?" The tone is austere, but Thor looks soft as he speaks, "I'm sure that's not what auntie Wanda teaches you."

Her bottom lip quivers while she cries hard, sobbing childishly. Feisty grows concerned, worried that she might have done something without realising it.

“Show some respect and apologise to her, Rosie. She’s a friend and deserves to be treated nicely.”

"N-no, Uncle Thor," Crossing her little arms flush against her chest, she stares at him, bottom lip sticking out sweetly, "She's no friend. She's stealing you from me, that's not a friend."

A heavyweight falls upon her chest. So she was indeed responsible for that tantrum. There was no way she couldn't have known they were so close, not that it helped either way. She was overwhelmed with guilt, this was not the scenario she had in mind when joining them for breakfast.

"You're such a daddy's girl, Rosie," Sam rolls his eyes, mouth still full. It seemed like a normal day for them, "And he's not even your real dad."

"Rosie, I…" She's hesitant when speaking, bringing everybody's attention to her. Feisty feels her stomach swirl, "I'm not stealing him from you. He’s still your Uncle Thor."

"Liar!" Rosie cries and so do the sleeping babies. Wanda groans, easily allowing Thor to do the parenting while she grabs the bassinet, taking the infants to their nursing room. "You are here for only a day and my Uncle Thor is always with you! That's stealing."

"Okay, enough, Rosalie," Thor's features are grim now, he stands up in front of her, his size making her smaller than she was already, "You are not to treat anyone like that. I won't allow it."

"Thor, I, well, it's fine," Feisty voices weakly, "Don't treat her like her, I can leave. It's not a problem."

"No, little wolf." With a short wave, he dismisses her attempt to leave, so she sits back, complying, "Rosalie, she needs our help, okay? Look at your brothers, they've all welcomed her nicely, you're always so proud to be as grown-up as them, and, still, you're acting like a spoilt brat I know you’re not."

"But Uncle Thor…" It breaks the woman's heart to see that little girl crying, instincts haywire to protect and care for her, "I-I miss you vewy much and 'm jealous of Feisty, she has you a lot."

Taken aback by her words, his face softens as he falls back to his knees, eyes meeting hers filled with tenderness. One of Thor's hands cradles Rosie's cheek, big enough to cover her whole face, one thumb circling soothingly her red chubby cheek, wiping away the tears. Feisty watches everything quietly, her heart melting upon beholding the way he treats her. The awareness of how great of a father he'd be ignites something inside her, something she has to fight it off to keep herself grounded.

Before Feisty can even consider her steps, she stands beside the magnificent Alpha, her hand seeming small when it gripped his shoulder. The boys were watching with weary eyes, though what really gets her is the warm blue, a grin pulling those pink lips up.

"Rosie" The little girl is fierce when she looks at the new Omega. She envies her strength. Despite her youth, Feisty could smell she'd be an Alpha. "Listen,"

Rosie hums, exchanging a glare with Thor, who nods, signalling for her to pay attention. Then blazing green stares at the woman, chin up like she's about to defend herself.

"I am not here to steal anyone," There's hope a reassuring smile is bright on her face. "You're still his favourite girl. You'll always be, okay?"

"B-but-" Stammering, tears well up in her eyes. "Do you pwomise?" It sounds so sweet all she manages to do is shoot a smile at the child, nodding, "Am sowwy, Feisty. You are pwetty nice."

"I told you she was, my sweet girl," Thor winks at her, pressing a quick kiss on her cheek, her cheerful laughter making everybody smile. "And I'll make sure to be around more often."

"That is great. Now we'll have a watch." Vithar complains, being the first to discard his dishes in the sink. "Way to go, Rosalie."

"You talk like we're doing something wrong."

"Sam, haven't you realised by now that Thor always finds something wrong in the things I do?"

"You are so dramatic, Vithar."

A rough hand intertwines with Feisty's, an amusement gleam in Thor's face as he hears his brother's banter. She giggles too, lowering her head and taking some time to inspect their smells. It was a habit she developed whilst growing up. It’s still child-like, so they hadn't reached their first rut just yet, which was funny to realise, because, with Rosalie, Feisty could just tell she'd be an Alpha. A powerful one and she was further from them to have it decided. With the boys, nonetheless, it was still blurry, undefined. Even Thor's brother.

There's uncertainty in her face, but she quickly shrugs it off. It's not unusual. Nothing she should be worrying about. A lingering, tepid touch sneaks up her arm, snapping her out of the thoughts, Thor nudges her to go back to the unfinished plate and half-filled mug. He whispers something like she's going to need the energy for later.

Both Sam and Freddie go over to the sink, standing beside each side of Vithar. The three boys start cleaning the dishes, mumbling to themselves things Feisty doesn’t bother to catch. She stuffs eggs between two pieces of bread, eating some more, her stomach stretching with the delicious, full meal.

Rosie's puffy eyes slowly fade away as she goes back to the syrupy pancakes, humming in satisfaction.

"Is Maggie up for a ride today, Vi?" Thor's booming voice fills the room, alongside the banging of plates. They are nearly done cleaning them, "I only checked up on Stormbreaker, but you know he's not with the rest, so I didn’t see her at all."

"I do, yeah, but I honestly have no clue. Clint has been using Maggie to teach Rosie, but that was a few days ago." He stares at the little girl. "Which reminds me, tomorrow is your day, miss."

"I know."

"Also, that’s kind of Peter’s responsibility, Thor.”

"Vithar, how many times will I have to tell you that when I'm not here, you're the one supposed to watch over the others? Anything that happens in this house is your responsibility." Electric blue eyes fly back to Thor, pink bottom lip puckered. His baby brother looks like he's been told nonsense, "Now, little wolf, are you good? Do you want more food?"

"I'm good."

"Then we should get going."

With a nod, sipping on her mug to end the coffee she still had left, Feisty gets back up, collecting the things she used so she could wash them quickly. Thor snorts, taking them away only to pile them up with the rest, earning a dreadful glare from his baby brother.

Feisty sees herself refraining a laugh. She never had any siblings, so it was nice and new to see those sort of interactions. A large hand tugs her hip, guiding her out to meet a rather sunny, warm day. White, fluffy clouds peppered across the blue sky. It never ceases to amaze her.

Thor is quiet, softly pulling her to follow him. He doesn't feel like letting go of her, although he knows she can follow him. The silky of her skin feels comforting under his fingertips, a pungent smell of relaxation coming from her. It's good on his nose, good on him.

The walk comes to halt when they reach a beautiful stable. Strong, wild horses running freely across a green field, only a wooden fence keeping them contained. A little giggle slips as she sees them play together, groomed and well taken care of.

As a child, she never had the opportunity to do these things. It was all far too complicated, there was no time to be a kid with a father like hers, despite all of her mother's efforts to make sure she had a nice childhood.

"Do you like horses?" He questions, palm flush with the small of her back as he leads her towards a small door, ducking when following her inside.

"Um, I'm not sure. I didn't-" Feisty purses her lips in a polite smile, "-I didn't have any animals. My father didn't allow them."

"Oh" There's a shade of sadness beneath his voice whilst he reached for two pairs of boots stored above the wardrobe. It smelt like dust when he dropped them on the floor, "You'll need that, flip flops aren’t exactly nice footwear for riding. It belonged to Natasha, I figure you two have the same size."

“Won’t she be bothered?”

“No, I don’t think she will. She hasn’t ridden in years.”

"I see. She doesn’t like it now, does she?"

Thor shakes his head briefly, bending to undo the ties on his brown leather boots, he is quick to replace them with the rubber ones, smirking at Feisty once he's back on his feet. It makes her stomach do a spin, the way the blue in his eyes sparkled electrifying something inside her. It's so strong she sees herself looking away, cheeks warm.

Kicking the flip flops away, she tries out Natasha's shoes, surprised that they fit her nicely. He stands beside her, gripping one of her arms, the flesh soft under his rough fingertips. Thor feels at ease when he touches her and it scares him. This, all of it, it's too much too soon. But she doesn't push him away, all she does is stare at him, curious.

They both remain silent as they move to the gate that meets the place where the horses are running up and about. There's riding gear piled up on a dusty table. The whole place looks like it needed a thorough cleaning.

Before Thor gets to instruct her to stay back while he deals with them, a buzz on his phone disturbs the bubble he's in. It near insanity how she can just make him forget there are other duties he needs to focus on.

He grunts annoyed.

"Wait here, okay, little wolf?" There's a slight pressure of his cheek on her temple, his beard itching her skin in nicely, "I'll be right back."

Feisty barely makes a nod, a spasm on her lower tummy almost urging a whimper out. The petrichor lingers when he leaves, her lips parted in a shallow breath. It's embarrassing how he can affect her so much with such small actions.

In the first minutes, she just stands there, hands clasped together, shifting the weight between her legs. Though she knows she doesn't have to be frightened to explore, the years of getting scolded by her father for being curious get her restrained. At first.

On the opposite side of where the Alpha had escaped to the outside, there's another door. It instantly lights up her curiosity, so there's no time to hold back the footsteps that lead to opening it, finding a comfortable room in which an absolutely gorgeous horse sleeps. Its fur glimmers in the dim light, pitch black. What indeed draws her attention, however, it's the size. That animal is at least twice the size of the rest!

It had to belong to him. A majestic ride fit for royalty such as Thor. She walks softly towards him, being careful to fall to her knees, the horse suddenly awake and confused to the unknown presence. He stands up way too fast, startling her and affecting her balance, she falls to the hay covered ground.

A low chuckle slips as she looks up at the animal, mumbling under her breath a nasty word. He watches her with daring eyes, black as the night, like he's questioning whether she will or not try to do something to him.

The Omega props herself up on her knees again, moving towards him just enough to pet his nose. It feels wet against her hand, she's glad he lets her touch him. His fur is soft as she goes further up his nose.

"You had me worried for a minute there, little wolf," Thor leans against the door's threshold, thick arms crossed, "Stormbreaker isn't nice to strangers, I'm glad he hasn't done anything, but you should've been more careful."

"Oh" Guilt sinks in as he helps her up, "I'm sorry. I just- I'm really sorry."

His smile is soft and tender, one large hand wrapping around her wrist to pull her back out. The horse follows them promptly.

"I was worried, that's all. You shouldn't be wandering off alone."

She nods then, remaining silent and constraining herself to just watch him gather the necessary gear. Thor is taken aback by the scared, saddened way she acts and looks at him. He drops what's in his hands to swoop her in his arms, bent to rub his cheek on hers.

There's a smooth noise coming from her chest as she closes her eyes. Scenting it's not unusual between Alphas and Omegas, although it's normally done after they have mated. Either way, Feisty holds no strength to fight back to the easiness the gentle bristle of his beard against her temple gives.

A deep rumble shakes his chest when she places her hand there, fingers toying with the buttons of his shirt. Her fingers feel like pure fire marking his skin, burning every bit she touched. Thor couldn't shake away that all of it was insane. Yet so delicate. That pure Omega in his arms brought out all of the animalistic instincts he tried so hard to shove inside the pit of his being.

"Don't feel like I'm giving you orders," It comes out as a whisper, his voice pitching lower than usual, "I want to keep you safe, little wolf."

Feisty lets out a little grunt, clinging to him, standing on her tiptoes to get hold of his neck. It's heady, addictive. And day after day it feels like it's growing stronger on her when it should be fading away.

"When…" The words die on her lips, his thick arms lightly holding her up, bodies glued together, "Never mind."

There's a wrinkle between his eyebrows, blue eyes curious.

"What is it?"

"It's embarrassing."

"I thought you weren't shy when I was around," His laugh is warm, it makes her smile absent-minded, "When what happens?"

"I know this-" She points to the two of them, "-I know it's because I'm new. But I, well, you make me feel safe, Thor. I don't want that to end."

"I'll always protect you, little wolf. As long as you need me to." Thor squeezes her further in his arms, "This isn't about being new or not. It's my duty."

"Sleeping with me is not your duty," Feisty brings up, blood warming her face as she feels shame settle in, "Is it selfish of me to not want to share that?"

Her body slides against his as he lets her back down, despite not breaking the skin contact so soon. Thor isn’t sure what to do. What to say. He doesn’t feel like sharing that bond either. It doesn’t matter that it was new, that it was way too rushed. Her presence felt better than any of the other Omegas that had tried to sneak their way into his arms. None had the sweet, flowery-like smell that put him through his paces like she did. Plus, the thought of another Alpha laying hands on her, well, it made him way past angry. It was wrath. Fury. A predatory instinct that had frightened him from the very first moment.

Thor’s nose trails up along her cheek, smooth lips pressing a kiss on her cheekbone.

“No” It’s low, filled with something neither of them can pinpoint, “Because I don’t want to share this either. Don't wanna' share you.”

A gasp escapes as he tightens the grip on her waistline, only to finally let her go, regardless of dreading the idea. He picks up the riding gear, Stormbreaker glaring at him with judgy eyes, which makes him roll his. That horse sometimes felt like an actual human person.

Feisty approaches him again, her chubby, child-like hands running along with the jet black horsehair. Stormbreaker neighs, leaning towards her to get her to scratch his ears, bringing a laugh out of the woman. A sound that makes Thor sway on his steps. He'd heard her giggle, seen her smile, but an actual laugh, it was the first time.

If it was even possible, that makes him even more aware of his craving for her. No. Sharing that intimacy with somebody else was not an option for him.

"I was going to get Maggie for you," He says, fastening the girth to secure the saddle on his horse, a bright blue saddle blanket underneath the leather seat, "But since he's taken a liking for you, I don't mind you riding him."

"Isn't he too big for me?" Uncertainty soaks up her question, "What if I fall off?"

"Don't worry, Stormbreaker is a nice horse-" Thor is cut off by a loud neigh, a booming laugh following, "-See? It'll be fine."

"Okay," She smirks patting the majestic animal again, "Go easy on me, alright?" It comes off as a secret between her and Stormbreaker, the Alpha gazes at that amused. Feisty certainly belongs to that place, "How do I, um, get up there?"

"Here, let me help you."

With a quick instruction to place her left foot in the stirrup, Thor helps her up to settle on top of his horse, her shaky fingers barely grasping the reins to remain in place. This is going to be fun, he thinks as he watches her finally find balance. He doesn’t want to admit out loud, but on those thin leggings, boots and all perched up on his horse, he’s never seen someone so gorgeous.

The soothing words he mumbles, whilst they go out, give Feisty a sense of protection. There is no doubt he’ll watch her and care for her. For once, she doesn’t feel vulnerable in that position, it actually imbues her with a sense of bravery she always lacked. Feels good, reassuring, so a grin takes up, hips wavering to the slow stride the horse is taking.

It’s not before they reach an empty field, far from where the other horses were, that he stops, giving back the reins to her so she could be the lead.

“It’s quite simple” Thor discloses, blue all blown out in those eyes. Feisty couldn’t remember seeing that colour before, it made her all wobbly and warm inside, “One tug at his belly, he’ll walk, two, he runs. If you want him to stop, pull back the reins gently.”

Feisty nods in agreement. Indeed quite simple.

He crosses his strong arms against his chest, a smile encouraging her to start, which she doesn’t do right away, opting for a big deep breath instead. Then, Feisty looks back at him, admiring for a second his unique beauty, the way his hair falls on his shoulders and how the skin glimmers under the bright sun, a peach shade of pink covering the skin of his cheeks.

“Thor?”

“Yes, little wolf?”

“Will you be watching me?”

There’s a shift in his breath and he pierces his stare at her, giving one short nod.

“Yes, now go!” He urges, giving one last squeeze to her hand, “I’ll be right here, watching you.”

As she finally goes off, steadily controlling Stormbreaker as if she had done that many times before. Thor can’t help but drift off into his thoughts, spiralling around the sweet scent she lets off. Two days. It was insane. He had been with Jane for far more than that and she never quite got to him like that. Not in the same way, at least.

Doomed. That’s what he was. And when Natasha finds out, she’d be sure to break his nose yet anew.

Grey, heavy clouds started to gather up as the hours went on, a thunderstorm ever so close from pouring down. It drives him to whistle so his horse returns with the lovely Omega atop him. The lesson ending a little earlier than he had planned. Being fairly honest, he’d have to find something else to teach her, she was just a natural at horse riding. If she hadn’t told him she never ridden one before, Thor would be sure to say she grew up riding one.

Stormbreaker came back trotting at full speed, Feisty bouncing above him, legs tight around his stomach. There was an easy smile shimmering on her face, something that bubbled up Thor’s insides, a proud smirk as he welcomed her back, arms stretched out to help her come down to the ground, which she did as soon as she stopped, gently tugging the reins.

There was a playful giggle when she jumped into his embrace.

“You’re in a good mood today, little wolf.”

Her arms are clasped around his neck, eyes pierced to his for a split second.

“Should I not be?”

While she slips down and stands back up on his feet, he snorts, like he’s been told gibberish.

“Yes. Of course you should.” Thor mumbles, his gaze analytical when noticing a slight tinge of pain on her steps back inside the stable. “Are you okay? Do you need some medicine?”

“I am fine,” Her voice goes back to the shy, low tone. As if the memory of whom she really is sinks back in, the fleeting moment of wilderness over, “I really am.”

“If you say so.”

With a shrug, he drags Stormbreaker back inside, careful when removing the saddle, the saddle blanket and the reins. His big hands stroking its neck for a moment, murmuring something Feisty couldn’t quite make out. Despite not knowing what he’s saying, the Omega can’t help but find the interaction sweet. It was definitely a side of a supreme Alpha she wasn’t expecting to see.

As an infant, all she heard was that they were ruthless, cruel. Never measuring the consequences when deciding to strike. Thor, on the other hand, was gentle. Sure, that scent coming from him warned her that he was powerful, dangerous even, nonetheless, reminiscing on how he dealt the Rosalie situation, how he watched over his baby brother and how… How he nurtured herself. It strayed far from that definition.

Sitting down on the sand-covered floor to remove the rubber boots, she once more thinks about her new life under his care. It way past what she thought she deserved. But after the second day, being there was starting to grow roots within her, which was a completely foreign sensation to an abandoned Omega such as Feisty.

“It’s almost lunchtime,” A deep voice comes from above, hands sneaking under her arms and lifting her, a squeal escaping from her while he does so, “Are you hungry? I don’t know if you’ll eat what Wanda cooks today.”

She scoffs, dumbfounded that he’d think such a thing. Thor glares at the Omega in confusion, one brow cocked.

“I spent days without any food, Thor... Whatever she cooks, it'll feel like heaven to me,” His fingers greedily take hers, feeling them cold under his touch, “Don’t pity me, please.”

“I’m not," Sighing, he pulls her deeper into his embrace, guiding them both out, the wind stinging, a lot rougher than before, “There’s so much I still don’t know about you.”

Feisty smacks at her lips, unsure of what to answer. Embarrassed that there wasn’t much to tell, self-conscious about what he’d think once he knew she was nothing but a mutt. It wasn’t something she gave a lot of attention to, however, when it came to him, there was this need to impress, to show herself off. This… She didn’t understand. Didn’t want to.

They start walking back to the house, her mind swirling around what to reply.

“And what is it you want to know?” It’s shaky and unsure when she finally speaks, “There isn’t much to know about me.”

There’s an abiding moment of silence, the tugging of his thick arm around her growing tighter. He doesn’t quite know where to begin, wishing nothing but to dive deep into her memories, into her niceness. Thor enjoyed the quietness she gave him, how he could be entirely silent and she’d respect his space, never urging words, never urging a stance. It made a whole lot easier to be around her.

Slightly pressing his nose to her temple, a fainting soap smell mixing with her natural one coming off of it. Inwardly, he wondered if he would ever grow tired of it. If the effect she had over him would weaken with time. Feisty looks up at him then, questioningly, half a smile on her lips. Right then, he feels a tightening sensation on his lower abdomen, an awareness that, by that simple act, she had answered his silent question.

No. He wouldn’t.

“I’m curious about you too,” She as much as whispers, distressed at his sudden silence, “If I can, I mean.”

A puff escapes, his plump lips finally pressing her face, a peck on the cheek, not more than that. He mouths a yes against her skin, anything, little wolf. And that alone brings goosebumps to crawl all over, a secretive gasp falling. Feisty feels the shift in the air, the way Thor reacts to her sounds coming off too strong. She can taste his need.

There's a subtle recoil on her shoulders, eyes growing heavy. It was nowhere near what it had been the day before, when she was left a heaving mess, yet, powerful enough for her to feel drawn to him.

“Is it too much?”

“Not too much,” A giggle slips as she hides her face on his chest, by now they were almost home, visible to people, “but I figure it's better to keep a little distance, I don't want people to think-"

“Think what, little wolf?”

“That I, um-”

The moment was suddenly over when, the exact minute they walked into the porch, little arms wrapped themselves around Thor’s legs, Rosalie much too excited to see him again to not throw herself against him. He smiled, quickly breaking the contact from Feisty to perch the girl on his hip, a childish grin on her cute face, dimples deep into her cheeks. The Omega couldn’t stifle the grin in pure glee that followed.

"Hi, sweetheart" He presses his lips to her head, ever so fondly, "Are you okay?"

"Yes" Rosie snickers, green eyes turning to Feisty, "You liked Maggie? She’s a lil’ nowty with stwangers.”

"Oh really?"

Rosie nods, nosing Thor's cheek fondly, "She's a nice horsie, though my favourite is Stormbweaka,” The child scowls at the word, “Stormy, Uncle Thor’s horsie.”

"He's beautiful indeed," She agrees, still sustaining the smile. It feels so painfully domestic, a child on his arms, the way he sneaks a glare towards her… Feisty finds herself fighting off the urge to lean towards him, fighting his strong magnetic field, "Have you ever ridden him?"

"No," A pout grows on her little face, "Uncle Thor says he's too big for me."

"He is," Thor chimes in, putting her back down, one hand grasping hers and the other on Feisty's shoulder, urging both of them inside, where they met a delicious smell of food being cooked, "If you were to fall off of him…"

"I'm a big girl!"

There's a booming laugh, "Even big girls get hurt, Rosie," A large hand strokes her much smaller cheek, the two exchanging a swift gaze, "Now go, wash your hands so you can have lunch."

"They're clean!" She cried.

"Rosalie…"

Before the girl disappears into the hall, possibly heading to the bathroom as she was instructed, Feisty is still able to hear a whispered “fine”. It makes both her and Thor laugh, her eyes quickly darting to him, staring a little bit too obviously - today she just didn’t seem like she could prevent herself from it. Nor contain the way her imagination ignites a fire inside her, going on and on about how smooth his skin felt under her touch.

There’s no hiding those emotions from him, a sweet flavoured infatuation stealing a grunt from the Alpha.

“It’s not polite to stare, little wolf,” In no time she feels the piercing blue onto her, shame drilling into her brain and forcing her gaze down, “No, no. No need for that, it was a stupid joke.”

“I’m-, I know I’m crossing boundaries, I-”

“You don’t have to worry about that,” A rumbling shake his chest, “God knows I want to stare at you all day long.”

“Why?” Bottom lip quivering, she shoots subtle look towards the Alpha, “I know why I want to stare at you, but me? I’m not really that special.”

“Don’t say that,” Thor frowns, nearing her slowly, “You really don’t know what your scent does to me, do you?”

Feisty gasps, shaking her head weakly as he finally holds both her hands, bringing them to his lips, kissing the knuckles with an adoration. She was so astonishingly delicate, regardless of all the bad situations she must’ve endured - such a stark contrast to him. Thor could tell she was starved of all that human interaction.

They stay like that for a little longer, not minding the fact they were standing in the middle of the hallway, that anybody could see them. A thick bubble surrounding them that was only broken when Natasha runs inside, almost bumping into them, quickly endorsing them to split, essentially ending the mood that enveloped the pair. Feisty swallows dryly, diverting her glaring to the red hair.

There’s nothing but plain uncertainty on her face, the smell of fear and anxiety easily stealing Thor’s attention. It was probably related to the business that had kept her away all morning, the Omega presumes, and, by the looks of it, whatever it was, she didn’t bring good news about it.

“What happened? Are you okay?” His voice dropped a tone, eyes wide, “Natasha...”

“I’m fine,” Nat’s voice doesn’t mirror what she says, trembling, “It’s just… They almost saw me, Boss. I almost ruined everything.”

“Breathe, Natasha, they didn’t see you after all, did they?”

She denies with a head shake, “Brunhilde helped me.”

“You talked to her?”

“Yes, she says she’s down to help us, with a price. Honestly, the things she told me...” Suddenly, as if only then she was realising they were in company, her speech comes to pause, glaring at the Omega slightly behind where both her and Thor stood, “Hey, sweetie,” Feisty gains a sympathetic smile from the red hair, “Look Boss, I can’t discuss it all here, it’s just not safe.”

“She won’t tell anybody,” He counters, “Will you, little wolf?”

“No, it’s not that I don’t trust her,” Natasha shrugs, inhaling deeply, “We just need to gather everyone and-”

“So you did find out something,” It wasn’t a question.

The air started to thicken, Thor’s anger boiling and stretching to the three people that. His reaction brought an itching curiosity to rest annoyingly at the back of Feisty’s brain; she wanted to understand what affected him so much, as if it was her responsibility to soothe him, to make him calmer. Possibly why she reached for his hand, noticing him go tense before melting to her touch.

“Yeah,” Nat nods, slowly gathering her emotions, “It’s far more complicated than we thought it’d be. I-I, damn. I don’t know what we can do.”

“Just,” Squeezing the hand intertwined with his, the Alpha tries to unclench his jaw, he needed to keep himself grounded, for the sake of everyone, “Calm down. Nobody saw you,”

“No, of course not.”

“Then we still have time to figure things out,” Caringly, he pats his friend on the shoulder, "I suggest you go rest and later we will discuss everything."

"Are you sure?"

Admiration seeps from Feisty's eyes, the firm way he nods and reassures Natasha, the way he leads. It's mesmerising, despite her just then realising there was trouble looming over the pack. Perhaps, and this got her feeling sick, it was her fault, maybe a witch placed a curse so troubles followed where she went.

The strong figure of a man towering her senses the troubles nagging her. This time he doesn't push the itch on his lower abdomen back, just tugging the woman to his arms, noticing how she complies gladly, finding the place that appeared made especially to fit her. More than ever, Thor feels the insane will to protect her, like a secret.

"Do you want to go somewhere?"

"I think-" Warmth reaches her cheeks, "Um, I should be asking you that."

A quick, low laugh slips as he murmurs for her to follow him, guiding her outside, towards the big garage where several cars were parked. She gawks in awe at all of them, walking behind him until they stop in front of a sports one - Feisty was nearly sure that was a Porsche, but she didn't know enough about cars to risk it.

They don't talk, it's not necessary. One large hand settles on her knee whilst he starts the car. Feisty feels odd - she hadn't felt this energy before him, like pure lightning coursing through her veins when he touched her. Either way, it didn't stop her from craving more. To soak up every bit of care he was willing to give her.

Neither needed saving, but both wanted to run away from everything.

tags!

the ones in italics i couldn’t tag for some reason!

forever

@sea040561 @momc95

marvel

@frenfics @mrscutiefandobhaz

thor

@lancsnerd @rishlo @desia22

untouched

@slutlanna976 @rahma29417 @truthdaze @innerpaperexpertcloud @watermelons-aura @gluemakesmyhandsticky @ellsbells2143 @ghostlysweetsturtle @lovelylostminds @shelbyaesthetic @dreaminofpoison @marikochi @bagpipes606 @littlephyschos-world @mannls @savagemickey03

#thor odinson #thor #thor x reader #thor/reader #alpha!thor x reader #alpha!thor/reader #alpha!thor x omega!reader #alpha!thor/omega!reader #omegaverse #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff/reader #natasha romanoff/thor #mcu #thor/reader fluff #thor x reader fluff #fluff #golddaggers

219 notes · View notes