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leclucklerc · 1 year ago

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Roses and Peonies CL16 - Oneshot

Pairings: Charles Leclerc x kpop idol!reader

Summary: When it was announced that bts will do their military service soon, y/n was scared to be left alone. She's scared that the world that she had known before will change, leaving her drowning in her loneliness. That is until she met a man with warm green eyes and dimpled smile.

Words: 14.2k

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It was a beautiful scene. More beautiful that anything that she had ever seen before.

Of thousands of stars like lights flashing around them. Of the adoring cheers and devotions that’s being thrown towards their way.

Of the love, that they could fell reverberating all across the stadium.

Y/n thinks that she wants to live like this forever. To savor this moment and make sure that it will last until the end of time. Of these beautiful lights and firework. Of these adoring chants and confession of devotions. Of this very moment.

She doesn’t want to forget it.

She wants to make this last.

And then, everything stopped.

Honestly, when it was decided that the boys are going to do their mandatory military service, y/n found herself a bit at a loss.

Her family knows it. The members know it. Heck, even the company knows it.

It makes sense after all. She had dedicated more than ten years of her life for the band. All of her youth and early twenties had been solely focused on bts and bts only. To make sure that the band stays together. To make sure, that the band will keep becoming bigger and bigger. Reaching new heights together.

Y/n didn’t regret it. How could she?

After all, those ten years were the highlight of her life. All the bitter memories from her trainee days became something fond to look back to. All of the sweat and tears that she had shed during her days as bts became rows of achievements and beautiful memories. It was amazing, the most beautiful moments of her life.

It almost made her forget that everything in this world will come to an end. The laughs that they shared, the group hugs, as well as the cheers from their fans. A bittersweet feeling always swells up inside of her chest at the mere thought.

Life as a celebrity will only treat you good when you’re still young. That statement is even more true in the idol industry where youth and visuals reign supreme over anything. Even bts – with all of their achievements, all of the things that they had contributed to South Korea – will became the victim of this statement sooner or later.

Yoongi-oppa had always said that he doesn’t want them to crash landed when they’re at the top. He wants them to land slowly but surely. A safe landing point that marks the end of their career as a musician in the future.

(It’s terrifying. Y/n is scared.)

She knows that there’s nothing forever in this world. And yet, when she realized that the members will be doing their military service soon – leaving y/n alone – she finds herself to be at lost.

“Maybe it’s time for you to find a boyfriend,” said Namjoon-oppa, leaning back on the sofa in front of her. There’s beers and other alcoholic drinks in front of them. She thinks they’re already drunk at this point, but trust Namjoon-oppa to still be able to give her advice despite his own state of drunkenness.

Y/n laughed. “You’re crazy,” she said, nestling his head on one of the many pillows located in the older’s studio. “Dating scandal is a death sentence.”

“We’re already in our 10th year,” shrugged the male. “It would be inhumane if we never experience the joys of love.”

The female fell silent at that.

She knows that the other members had their own fair share of love story. Discreet ones that they had never dare to publicized. After all, a dating scandal is something major in the South Korean entertainment industry. You can end your career just for falling in love. Even bts, the biggest Asian act that had ever came out in the past decade, is not an exception to that fact. A harsh reality for them who is part of this toxic cycle.

To y/n, she had avoided it like it’s a plague. Her presence in bts had been controversial enough. She doesn’t want people to say that she’s fucking the members – people who are like her own siblings – behind the scenes. There are already enough talks about that. If she ever gets caught up in a dating scandal?

It will not only be the end of her career. But also, bts.

Though, listening Namjoon-oppa tonight, it really seems as if it’s a good idea. She’s already entering her 10th year as an idol. She had many accomplishments, making South Korea proud and breaking records with every release.

Maybe, just maybe, falling in love with someone is not a death sentence.

Maybe, just maybe, it’s time for her to learn to live like a human and not the entertainment industry doll.

“Do you really think that that’s a good idea?” she asked after a moment of silence. “I don’t want to inconvenience you or the other members…”

Namjoon-oppa actually let out a laugh at that. “All of us had dated anyone before,” he said, taking a gulp from the alcohol on his glass. “Is that an inconvenience to you?”

“No,” she replied almost immediately, mind recalling all the people that had come and go over the years. Some are celebrities some are not.

“See?” said the male. “The same thing will also be applied to us.”

Y/n nodded, nursing the glass that she’s holding. She’s still a bit hesitant. Finding love had never been her priority, considering how busy she was. And to make finding love a goal during the band hiatus? Doesn’t it seem to be a bit too shallow?

The other members are preparing their solo album while here she is contemplating if she should date someone or not.

She can already see the media headlines.

Namjoon-oppa seems to have sensed her hesitancy because he decided to speak up again. “I know how you get when you’re feeling lonely, I’m just scared that when all of us leave for military… you won’t have your support system anymore.”

Ouch.

Though, isn’t that the truth?

Maybe it’s because for more than ten years, she had grown up with people around her. Her close siblings – even though they didn’t share a drop of blood – that had always been there for her. Her personal emotional babysitter. The people that she can always count on.

It seems a bit pathetic that her state of mental wellbeing is relying on 100% to these seven men. But these seven men are her best friends. The people that she’s closest to. Her soulmates.

Her soulmates, that’s going away for months.

“Maybe,” she finally said. “Maybe I will consider it.”

Namjoon-oppa let out a laugh at that.

Y/n l/n debuted under Bighit entertainment when she was 15, going 16.

A wide-eyed half foreign girl in the midst of the glitz and glamor of the kpop industry. A wide eyed and naïve girl being thrusted straight into fake Versace and the harsh entertainment industry without much of a preparation.

To be fair though, y/n thinks that no one can prepare enough things before they debuted.

It was a controversial debut back then. Still is even compared to today’s standard. For a girl to debut in a co-ed group where the remaining members are boys her age. Some had called it inhumane; some had called it insane; some had called it feeding off the female or even the male fantasy.

Even now, critics would always say that bighit is the only company to be ballsy and desperate enough to do that kind of thing. The company that was going bankrupt in 2013 and bet everything that they had to a controversial co-ed group without a clear future.

There are many nasty things being thrown around here and there back then. Insults to degrading remarks. Things that can make any newly debuted group to regret to ever stepped into the entertainment industry.

Bts initial concept too, didn’t help. Wannabe rappers, fake k-hiphop, weird band name, from the tamest insult to the most vicious ones, they had been called by it.

To y/n though, she would call it family.

After all, bts is the only thing that she could call as normalcy in her life. After her family moved from Italy to South Korea – the country where her mother comes from – she was immediately whisked into the grueling trainee life. She was never good at school to start with, making her job as a trainee her only focus.

It was then when she entered bighit entertainment, a small entertainment company. It was also then, that her life changed when she was being put into the debut lineup almost immediately.

Her life had always been consisted of bts and the members. The first thing that appeared inside of her mind when she starts her day is bts and the last thing that appeared inside of her mind before she went to sleep is bts. Always bts.

Many – even the members – had praised her dedication for the group. Saying that it’s good for her to consider the group as something so important that she puts it on top of her priority list. Y/n could agree on that. After all, she knows nothing but bts in her life. The group itself made her life to have a meaning. It made her to develop a sense of purpose in this world.

To make music.

To make music that can help people.

To make music, that people can lean on to during their hardest time.

Well, who would’ve thought that bts would become the world biggest group?

Certainly not her.

When bts took off internationally, it had been an almost surreal experience to them. After all, all they want is to win in a fucking Music Bank. Who would've thought that just two years after their first win, they would perform in the VMAs. Who would've thought that they're going to win billboard awards left and right?

And that had only been the start.

Stadium tours, multiple number one albums, multiple number one songs, the most famous people in the world.

Maybe that's why love had never been her priority. Besides the dating scandal thing, she had been way too busy for the past few years. She could barely saw her family, let alone thinking to start a relationship.

It was to the point that y/n genuinely thought that maybe love is just not for her.

That love, is not something that she can attain in this lifetime.

The meeting room is almost empty. Way emptier than usual.

Y/n sat there, legs crossed on top of the chair as she stared at her PR manager and manager going through some papers. She could hear some of the interns on the background, murmuring about something with hushed breath.

“Despite the band hiatus,” started her manager. “We’re going to start a lot of solo activity, especially for you.”

She ignored the weird feeling that appeared inside of her chest when she imagined doing her job alone. She ignored the emptiness that spread inside of her as she realized that there will be no more boisterous laughter and weird antics happening on the background.

She ignored the fear that appeared inside of her at the mere thought of being alone.

She ignored all of that as she nodded her head. “Yes,” said the female. “I understand.”

At the start of December, she went to Paris.

It’s her first solo schedule. The company told her that she’s going there to shoot promotions and campaigns for Prada. It’s a big deal, as she was set to become their newest global ambassador. After the announcement of their hiatus, many brands had contacted her, offering her the position of global ambassador.

She guesses it was for the fact that she’s not tied exclusively with bts anymore. That in order to sign her, the brands don’t have to sign the band anymore.

Bitter, she thought as she read the contract over and over. There’s an odd feeling that rose up inside of her chest as she stared at her name. Only her name and devoid of the other members.

Kim Namjoon

Kim Seokjin

Min Yoongi

Jung Hoseok

Park Jimin

Kim Taehyung

Y/n L/n

Jeon Jungkook

Only her name.

She signed it, heart aching inside her chest.

There’s not much going on over the signing of the contract and the shoots itself. She was told on things that she must do and what not. The clothes that she should be wearing during her promotions, as well as the events that she must attend during her stay in Paris.

The event that she’s attending tonight is one of them.

It’s a charity ball meant for the wealthy and famous. The event itself was held to raise money to help the art and sport sector, a good goal if the money will actually be given to struggling artist and athletes, not those who comes from privilege.

But she can’t comment on that.

“A lot of executives will be there,” informed her manager as he draped a jacked over her bare shoulder when they exit their hotel. Flashes of camera immediately appeared as yells and screams could be heard all around them. “Directors, CEOs, star athletes.”

Y/n let out a hum at that, processing that information internally.

It didn’t take long for them to arrive at the five-star hotel where the event is being held. And as expected, there are so many rich and famous people in the venue. People that y/n had worked with the previous years, people that is working with her, to the people that wants to work with y/n in the future.

“I saw your billboard near the Louvre, it was phenomenal!”

“I heard that your band is breaking up? If you’re interested my next movie-“

“The met gala is happening in May and-“

She was far too exhausted to plaster a genuine smile. The jet lag catching up to her and all the pent up stress that she had harbor for the past few weeks continue to pile inside of her. So many faces and so many names to remember, it made her dizzy for a bit.

Maybe that what guides her to the bar, desperately searching for a bit of an alone time during the hustle and bustle of the party. She didn’t even remember how many designers and actors had given her their personal contact. No doubt salivating at the thought of finally having y/n l/n work for them, not as a group. But individually.

Manicured nails tapped the bar softly as she watched the bartender made her order. From the corner of her eyes, she could see other people eyeing her, no doubt wanting to make conversation.

She really should get going from here before-

“Rough night?” asked a voice besides her.

Ah, too late.

Turning her head, her eyes met warm green ones. A man, maybe around her age, with dark hair and dimpled smile was staring at her. He’s wearing a suit, a clear indicator that he’s also part of the exclusive guest list.

Handsome, thought y/n idly, eyeing the man in front of her. He certainly fit the conventional standard of beauty for men from his large eyes to charming smile. But she’s standing in a room full of celebrities. Everyone is good looking here.

“You can say that” she said, smiling a bit to hide her uneasiness. “I was just a bit overwhelmed.”

The guy laughed at that. “I can certainly relate to that,” he said. She realized there’s a hint of accent on his English.

“Oh, you’re French?” asked the female after realizing.

“Monegasque actually.”

Y/n hummed. “I never met a Monegasque before.”

“Well, there’s not a lot of us around,” he answered cheekily. The bartender appeared, giving her, her drink. “So, what brings you here tonight?”

It was such a cliché line that she almost snorted. There’s no reason to ask what brings her here tonight because it’s the same reason why the guy is even here. It’s obvious that they were invited to this gala in order to make this charity event look more glamorous. To paint them in a better light as someone who likes to donate and gives back to the poor.

“The same reason as you?” said y/n, leaning forward towards the bar. “Trying to find someone who is alone at the bar and flirt with them?” It was supposed to be a sarcastic reason, a sign for the male that she’s not interested.

Though, instead of being offended, he took it as a good humor as another round of laugh erupted from him. “Am I? flirting with you?” he said, tilting his head.

The female stared at him, blinking. “Are you not?” she asked as if she was stating the obvious.

“Well, I am,” he said with a grin. She can’t help but notice the way his eyes crinkled at that, giving the warm green orbs a more welcoming look. “You have a nice set of eyes; do you know that? I can probably get lost in them.”

That flirting is way too corny and old school that she can’t help the loud laugh that she lets out. The uneasiness that had bubbled on her chest dissipated almost immediately. If her manager is around her, she will probably scold her for that ungraceful manner. “Seriously?” she asked. “Are we playing that kind of game right now?”

“Can’t we?” asked the guy. “It’s fun.”

“Mhm, whatever you say Mr. Casanova,” she said with a hum, heart light. “Don’t you think you should buy me another drink then?”

He shrugged, “I certainly can,” started the guy. “But I don’t want you to drink too much.”

“Why?”

“So that you can remember this conversation and tell your friends that you met an unforgettable guy during this event.”

The laugh that she lets out is more genuine than anything that she had done ever since her arrival at the charity gala. The guy seems to realize this as he too, joined on her laugh.

“I know, it’s bad,” he said. “I’m not the best at flirting.”

“Really?” said y/n. “I would’ve thought otherwise.”

He grinned before thrusting his hand towards her. “Should we start over?” said the male. “My name is Charles.”

She noted the lack of last name. Good. “Y/n,” said the female as she shook his hand. “Pleasure.”

It is a pleasure, because before she knew it, the both of them fell into a deep conversation about music.

Charles seems to be an artist himself, or maybe a huge music fan. He talked about the latest releases to the old ones. The male talked about his co-worker who had a deep love for the 90s rock to his own taste of classical music, even confessing that he had attended numerous concert about it.

Y/n too, talked about music. She talked about how high quality the latest release had been. How there seems to be some kind of trend in the music industry lately. How there seems to be a newer and more talented singer each passing day.

It surprised her a bit, that Charles is a good talker and listener. He seems genuinely interested at what she’s saying, As if she’s not talking about the nerdy side of the music industry. As if she’s not mostly rambling about herself.

The male asked intriguing questions, humming at the appropriate times, and even broaden the subject with his own knowledge.

She didn’t know how long they talked, maybe hours, because the moment she realized that they had been talking too long was the moment when her phone buzzed as a text from her manager appeared.

Ah, thought the female, glancing at the watch that Charles is wearing. I have to go back soon.

There’s a sense of disappointment that appeared inside of her chest when she realized that it was the end of their conversation.

Charles seems to realize her disappointment because he immediately raised his eyebrows, “Something wrong?” he asked, tone full of worry.

“No,” she replied, taking her handbag. “I just realized that I have to go back soon.”

The male probably thought it was weird considering that the gala is going on full swing without a sign of stopping, but well, she has a strict schedule. She has to go to an early photoshoot tomorrow.

“Let me walk you out then,” said Charles as he straightened up, offering his hand.

Y/n stared at the offering hand, pondering about her decision for a bit before she curled her arm around it. “Okay then.”

The walk towards the exit took longer than expected because there are a lot of people that went to greet them. Designers, directors, fellow musicians. On Charles side, she too recognized a lot of people went to greet him. Though she doesn’t know any of them.

He probably doesn’t work in the entertainment industry then, thought the female.

“Should I drive you back to your hotel?” asked Charles as the both of them exited the ballroom where the charity gala was hosted. It was quiet, a far cry from the loud music and the chatters that had surrounded them previously.

Thinking about the offer, she shook her head, “No,” she replied. “My friend will pick me up.” It’s her manager.

At that, the male look disappointed.

It was at that moment, y/n made a choice that changed the course of her life. She doesn’t know what made her do it. Maybe it’s the pouty look that Charles is giving her or maybe it’s just her lonely self craving for love.

She doesn’t know the exact reason was but-

Inside of her purse, y/n rejected the call from her manager.

“You know what,” started the female. “I really enjoy talking to you.”

“Me too,” replied Charles.

“I heard there’s… a really good place to eat late night snacks around here,” she continues. “Do you want to go there?”

It’s blinding. Charles smile is blinding.

They ended up eating a late-night snack that night. It ruined her diet and Charles also confessed that this ruined his own diet too.

Though, the both of them doesn’t seems to care, too engrossed with each other.

Charles continues to give her bad flirting attempts and she too, replied with her own version of flirtation. It was fun. It made her felt a bit free.

She could feel her phone continue to buzz throughout their late night escapades – certainly from her manager – and y/n decided to ignore it. If she had thought that Charles looks handsome under the dim lighting that the charity event provided, under a proper lighting he looks stunning.

Charles had denied being in the entertainment industry and y/n signed in shame. He could certainly make good money with a face like that.

When the night was ending, she lets Charles to drive her back to her hotel.

They arrived through the back door, a far more discreet entrance where no paparazzi and fans can enter.

“Thank you for tonight,” she said as the male opened the car door for her. “I really enjoy it.”

“I should be the one saying that,” replied Charles with a large grin.

There’s a sudden silence between the two of them, as if they doesn’t know what to say. Should she say see you later? Or is this a one time thing?

It would be a shame if this is a one time thing. It’s been awhile since she enjoys her night like this. The silence was broken when the male decided to speak up.

“Tomorrow,” started the male, staring directly towards her. “Do you have any plan for dinner?”

Y/n immediately ransacked her brain for tomorrow’s schedule.

“No,” she said. “I’m free for dinner.”

And at that, he reached out for her hand. Y/n didn’t flinch, completely lowering her guard for this man before her. He brought it towards his lips, giving it a small kiss.

“Then,” said the male, smiling. “Have a dinner with me?”

Thump, her heart beats once. Twice.

Thumpthumpthumpthump-

“Yes,” she answered, large grin overtaking her face. “I would love to.”

They went on a dinner the next day, in a small quaint restaurant that’s overlooking the Eiffel tower. If y/n was not charmed by that gesture, she would’ve called it cliché, but fuck it. She was definitely charmed by the dinner that they had.

Maybe it’s because of the small gesture that Charles did – opening the car door, holding the door for her, asking what her favorites are. Maybe it’s because the food they’re eating was just good. Maybe it’s because she’s just weak for a candle lit dinner in Paris.

She really doesn’t know what’s the reason. All she knows is that she didn’t stop smiling throughout the night.

It’s a bit weird but talking with Charles was unexpectedly easy. She found out that he can speaks Italian fluently, making them converse in Italian all night long. He said it was because of his job, making him need to stay in Italy for some part of the year. They talked about various topics. Like their hobbies where she found out that he can play the piano and from what he claimed, he can play it really well.

“You sure about that?” she had teased him. “I also can play the piano really well.”

Charles had laughed at that. “Should we have a piano battle then?”

They talked about their life,

“I was born and raised in Monaco,” said the male. “Though I have to travel a lot because of my job.”

“I was born in Italy,” said y/n. “My family moved to South Korea when I was in elementary school.”

Talked about their favorite food,

“Caprese salad,” he said as he nudged the salad in front of her. “It’s my favorite.”

“I never really liked cucumber,” said the female, grinning a bit stupidly. “Much prefer tomato over it.”

Talked about their favorite things,

"I like flowers, especially peonies," she had said, remembering the peonies that her dad would gave her mom almost weekly. "I will probably become a florist in my next life."

He hummed. "I will probably be a... mechanic?"

Talked about their family,

“I’m an only child,” said y/n. “Though I do have close friends that I thought of as my brothers.”

“Really?” asked Charles. “How long have you guys been friends?”

She pondered a bit. “More or less 10 years maybe? Or eleven and twelve?”

He chuckled. “I also have friends that I know since primary school,” said the male. “The eight of us.”

“But do you have any siblings?”

“I do have an older and younger brother.”

They talked about everything and yet nothing.

Y/n soon realized that the both of them are avoiding certain topics. Like what their jobs are or topics that could probably disclose more of their identity. Oddly, she found herself really liking it.

She doesn’t even know Charles’s last name. She knows almost everything about him but his identity. She doesn’t know anything about the man that’s laughing and sharing dinner with her tonight.

And yet, she doesn’t seem to mind.

This sense of anonymity gave her a safe blanket. It seems a bit fucked up, but she finds the fact that they’re both not disclosing their identity to each other is a good thing. Maybe it’s the wariness, or how she already got used to not trust people easily.

All she knows is that she likes this. This easy conversation and banter that they share with each other.

If she had thought that the dinner was charming, the stroll that they did around Paris that night is more than charming. There’s just something a bit special to walking around the city of love late at night, laughing and talking with someone that you find attractive.

Charles is really playful, always trying to make her giggle throughout the walk. He would ask her to do a failed rendition of a ballroom dance under a streetlight, or he would tell her about the odd history or even his own funny experiences during his previous trips to Paris.

It’s been a while since she laughed that hard.

That one dinner turned into another and another. It’s been three days since they had dinner together every day.

Y/n found herself surprised at that. After all, she’s used to always not let anyone get too close to her. Too used to guarding her heart too tightly, not letting anyone in easily.

Charles though.

Charles with warm green eyes and dimpled smile.

Charles who had talked about his home in Monaco with a too wide smile and sparkling eyes.

Charles who had told her about his travels all around the world – regaling tales about the many cuisines and cultures that he had experienced.

Charles who had looked at her with so much warmth and made her laugh every night.

It made her want to belief. To believe that the warmth that Charles gave her is true. That all the kindness and loving words that he had directed towards her during these past few days is true. That all of this is not a ploy to just get into her pants or a ploy to leech off her fame.

Maybe it’s okay to open her heart up for a bit. To let this giddy like feeling to consume her as she forgets about all the repercussion this small rendezvous can impact her.

To let herself enjoy the wonders of love for the first time.

Please, she had thought as they once again stroll around Paris late at night. If this is a dream, don’t wake me up.

“Hey,” she called out, catching his attention. “I was wondering.”

“Hm?” hummed the male as he kissed their interlocked hands. “What is it, chérie?”

Looking around, y/n turned towards the male. “I was wondering how you even knew so many streets with so few people?” she asked. “Like I’ve been wondering how we even avoided meeting so many people during our stroll?”

She had thought walking around in Paris a bit risky. There are far too many people that knew her and far too many paparazzi dying to know an inside scoop about her personal life. Though, oddly, these past few days, they hardly met any people during their walk.

The female had been suspicious at first, glancing at Charles with doubts on her face. Though, the male acted as if there’s nothing wrong. It seems, the male knew the reason.

Charles fell silent at that.

Y/n thought that she had hit a landmine. That her question is something a bit too personal to him. Immediately, she backtracked. “I mean-!” she started. “I mean if you don’t want to answer is okay! Like I’m pretty sure you’re not a serial killer or anything because you haven’t killed me these past few days- I’m not calling you a killer though!”

The male stared at her; amusement clear on his eyes as she continues to fumble around.

“What I want to say is,” she finally said, stressing out the word. “If you don’t want to answer it’s okay.”

Charles let out a laugh at that, almost making her stumble with how violent his shoulder shook. “Ah, I can’t believe the girl that I had flirted with – heavily I must add – for the past few days really thinks I’m a serial killer.”

“I’m not saying that!” hissed out y/n, pouting a bit. “Did you miss the bit when I said I’m pretty sure that you’re not a serial killer?”

“No, no, no, I heard that alright,” he said, grinning as one of his hands pulled her cheek a bit. “Mignonne.” Cute.

“Stop doing that!”

Charles didn’t stop and his grin merely getting wider. “I’m glad though,” he said as he untangled their hands so that now both of his hands are now pinching her cheeks. “That we established the fact that I’m not a killer.”

Y/n glared at him, hands flying up to hold the hands that’s on her cheek. “Whatever,” she said. “Forget that I even asked.”

The asshole let out a louder laugh at that. “Don’t pout,” he said as he tugged her lips upward. “It’s not a good look on your pretty face, chérie.”

She rolled her eyes at that. “I still look pretty,”

“True.”

“Okay! Don’t distract me with your flirting,” said y/n, huffing. “Are you going to answer my question or not? Because it’s perfectly fine if you don’t.”

“Well,” started the male, still cradling her face as his thumb brushed the apple of her cheek. “I have a… good answer to that.”

“Really?” asked y/n as she released the man’s hands from her cheek, holding it together with her hand as she looked up to him. “You want to tell me?”

He looks a bit hesitant at that. As if he’s debating something inside of his head. She didn’t know what kind of internal mental turmoil that he’s having with himself, though by the end of it, he looks more determined than before.

“I guess you can say it’s because of my job?” said Charles, tilting his head a bit. “I… tend to get recognized a lot.”

Y/n raised an eyebrow at that. “So… you’re famous?”

“In a certain circle, kind of?”

“Huh,” said the female, processing the information a bit. They got that in common then. She’s also famous in certain circles. “And are you comfortable enough to tell me what your job is?”

Charles bit his lips. “I’m… you know, Charles Leclerc.”

Y/n blinked.

“Charles Leclerc?” she repeated, and he nodded. “Leclerc? Is that your family name?”

The male stared at her. “You don’t know me?”

“… Should i?”

“No, no, obviously,” interjected Charles with a small laugh, hand waving around. “It’s just that you went into that charity ball and all, so I thought you will be familiar with my name.”

She tried to remember the event that they both had attended a few days ago. The charity ball that was meant for the art and sports industry.

Charles, obviously, is not from the entertainment industry. Or he could be? Like a producer or director maybe? Y/n is not that familiar with the acting side of the entertainment industry after all.

Or he could be from the sports industry. Looking at his body- yeah. Athlete.

“Ah,” said the female. “You’re an athlete?”

“Yeah,” he answered. “Some would say that I’m not, but I like to think that I am an athlète.”

Oh.

“That’s why I didn’t recognize you,” she said, wonder clear on her eyes. “I’m not really that familiar with athletes – sorry – except the ones that’s representing my country and stuff… or like the popular ones like Messi or Ronaldo-��

“Are you telling me I’m not popular?” teased the male.

“That’s not the point,” she huffed out with a frown and Charles laughed at that. “And I know you must be a popular athlete, you said it yourself,” continue the female. “A bit narcistic but okay.”

“It’s good to have confidence in my line of work.”

Y/n pondered a bit. Should she? It felt a bit unfair to Charles if y/n didn’t say anything about her. He trusted her enough to tell her about his identity after all.

Does she trust Charles though?

She should be terrified how fast a ‘yes’ appeared inside of her mind.

Will he change? will the sweet Charles that she had known these past few days will be gone when he realized who she is. How famous she is. How beneficial it will be for him to continue this... relationship with her.

Again, she should be terrified how fast a 'no' appeared inside of her mind. As if she had trusted this man in front of her her whole life.

“Me too, I guess,” said the female after a while.

“What?” he asked, humor evident on his tone. “Are you also famous?”

“In certain circles, kind of?” she said, repeating his words from before.

Charles let out a huff of laugh before he grabbed her hands and practically dragged her to one of the benches near them. From here, they’re overlooking the Seine River and she could even see the Eiffel tower in the distance. A bit cliché, but at the same time, y/n loves it a bit too much.

“Should I start?” asked the male, fiddling with her hand. “On confessing about our deepest and darkest secret.”

She giggled. “Sure Romeo, you can start.”

“I’m a driver, racing driver,” he said.

And oh, that’s not bad. Y/n was expecting something much worse. Like a sport that she’s not completely familiar with or know even exist. “In what? Nascar?”

“Formula One, I drive for Ferrari.”

Y/n may have never any interest in racing, but she knows Ferrari. Her father is a big fan of Ferrari when she was little and from what she knows, had followed it almost religiously. She also knows that Formula One is practically the biggest and the most famous racing category right now. To drive for Ferrari in Formula One-

“You’re not lying when you said you were famous,” she said instead.

“Glad that we established that,” he said, amused. “What about you?”

“I’m… a singer, you can say,” she started. “Or an Idol, if you want to use the proper term.”

Charles scrunched his eyebrows. “Idol?”

“You know Kpop?”

“Ah,”

There’s silence between the two of them after that. Charles still playing with her hand and y/n still leaning her weight on his shoulder.

“Does this change anything?” she asked.

“No,” replied Charles almost immediately. “No, it doesn’t.”

She let out a breath that she didn’t even knew she was holding. “Good,” she said. “I like this.”

Charles released her hand before he curled his hand around her shoulder. “Me too,” he said.

The predestined one, that’s what they’re calling Charles.

The one that will bring back the championship to Ferrari.

The one that was destined to bring back the glory to Ferrari.

The sea of red and the Ferrari flags waving with the wind as he passed the checkered flag in Monza. The chants, of him bringing back the championship, that people screamed on top of their lungs every time the male appeared.

It was fascinating to see the extent of Charles’s popularity. When the male said that he was famous in certain circles, he was really humbling himself down. Because she knows, she knows when someone gave you this kind of devotion, this kind of love, it means that their love for you is more than genuine.

She doesn’t know how many videos of Charles she had watched that night. From his amazing start in 2022 season until his final standings. From his recent races to some fan’s compilation about the male over the years. Hours must have passed because the next thing she knows it’s already bright out there.

Her manager seems to realize her lack of sleep because he had ordered the makeup artist to add an extra concealer for the spot under her eyes. Though, the older didn’t probed more regarding the reason.

Y/n thinks that her manager can already guess the reason.

“Do you enjoy your late-night rendezvous?” asked the older man.

Looking up from her phone, she raised an eyebrow. “It’s not a problem, right?” asked y/n.

The older male shook his head. “It’s not, as long as you’re being discreet for the time being,” said the male. “We can talk again if you ever want to make your… relationship… public.”

A public relationship. What a terrifying thought.

“We’re still in the talking stage, nothing that serious,” said the female.

“It is if your partner is Charles Leclerc,” replied her manager. She could see he’s staring at Charles’s Instagram page. “Formula One may not be that big in Korea, but it’s huge all around the world.”

She knows that. She knows how loved Charles is by the people.

A sea of red. Of Ferrari’s flag waving with the wind. Of screams full of devotion and reverence.

She knows.

“I know,” said y/n, leaning back on her seat. “I’ll talk to you and the company later if our relationship became more… serious.”

“Good,” said the older with a nod. “Now should we review your schedule once again?”

Charles is holding a bouquet of roses when she met him that day.

“Ah,” she said, smiling. “For me?”

“Of course,” he grinned as he handed her the flowers. “I just realized I never gave you any flowers, decided to fix that.”

Y/n let out a giggle at that, holding the flowers close to her chest. “We met barely one week ago,” she said.

The male merely shrugged, “One week too late then?” he said. "I can't find any peonies, but I hope roses are a good replacement."

She’s not flustered. She’s not-

The heat radiating from her cheek tells otherwise.

They’re meeting during the day today. It felt a bit scandalous, considering all of their previous meeting had always been late at night.

Though, seeing Charles under the sun is a bit too tempting to missed out.

The private room that they book had a balcony overlooking Champs-Élysées, a beautiful sight that took her breath away. Charles had told her that a friend of his had recommended this place to him, saying that it’s a good place to have a date as it served enough privacy for them.

Y/n’s heart beats a bit faster when the male casually mentioned that yes, this is a date.

“So, you’re going back tomorrow?” asked the male.

She nodded. “You too right?” asked y/n. “My flight is early in the morning, what about yours?”

“It’s at twelve,” he replied. “Do you want me to drive you to the airport?”

The female laughed at that. “I think I have too many luggage to fit in your Ferrari.”

“You can ask your manager to bring your luggage and I’ll drive you to the airport,” said Charles, as he reached out, intertwining their hands together. “I just thought… we don’t know when can we meet each other again.”

That’s true.

This situationship between the two of them, she doesn’t know if it will last after Paris. She doesn’t know if she can do a long distance… situationship… or if Charles even willing to do that. This date, could be the last date between the two of them.

She hates it.

She hates the mere thought of it.

“Hey,” started the female. “Do you want to continue this?”

Charles stared at her. “I do,” he answered. “What about you?”

“Me too.”

A smile bloomed on his face. “I’m glad,” he said. “I… was afraid that you doesn’t want to continue this… relationship.”

“I don’t know if this will work,” she started, holding his hand tighter. “I don’t even know how this will even work, honestly,” she said again. “We came from two different world, our job demands us to always travel around, and we don’t live in the same country but-“

She stopped.

She thinks, she will regret it forever if she left Charles here.

She thinks, romance is not something for her if she doesn’t pursue this relationship.

“I would like to try,” finished the female. “I would love to try and see how this relationship will work.”

Y/n thinks a weight had been lifted from her shoulder as she said that. As if, an invisible baggage has been lifted.

The breathtaking smile that appeared on Charles face made her think that she had decided on the correct decision.

“Me too,” said the male. “Let’s do our best, okay?”

They laughed.

Charles did drive her to the airport the next day.

It was a blessing that she will be flying private, because the hug and the kiss that Charles gave to her forehead will surely be the headline of every tabloids if someone ever posted it.

Sometimes, when she closed her eyes, she could remember everything so vividly.

Of days that was spent on the road. Of the hours spent on an airplane as they flew all across the world. Stadiums to stadiums. From one continent to another. Of thousands of fans cheering their name, repeating words full of love and devotions.

She could always remember it. The big plan that they had prepared as a thank you gift for the fans before the boys will do their military service. Of the countless of hours and so much love that they had devoted in those plans. Something that is full of promise. Things, that can close the first chapter of their career with a bang.

But of course, fate, had never been on their side.

When the pandemic hits and the world went into lockdown, it also means the end of all of their plans.

Y/n always regrets it. The way they close the first chapter of their career. She just felt that they didn’t gave the fans enough closure of preparations. That they didn’t give them enough devotion to repay back all of their love.

While it’s true they held a free concert for their fans – albeit a bit of a controversial one – she felt that it’s just not enough. They should’ve done more. They should’ve given them more promise that they will be back soon. That bts will not be disbanding and soon they will reunite once again as a group.

But alas, time continue to pass and so it the inevitable.

In the middle of December, Jin-oppa went into the military.

It was a cold day. She knows that the training will be harsh and cold. Jin-oppa doesn’t like the cold. She doesn’t like Jin-oppa leaving her like this. Y/n did try to not cry, she really did. But alas, the dam broke, and she went full on sobbing as she clutched the older male tightly.

The oldest member merely laughed, teasing her like usual as he patted her hair. As if he’s not going to leave her. As if, they’re in the middle of their normal banter and not in the middle of a military base.

“Be a good girl okay, n/n?” laughed the oldest member of bts. “Don’t be a brat with Jungkook and listen to the other members well.”

She let out a wet hiccup at that.

“Aigoo,” laughed Hobi-oppa as he slung an arm around her. “Our little n/n is crying because her brothers are going to the military?”

“All of you are so mean,” she grumbled, and she can already imagine the reaction from the fans when today’s Bangtanbomb will be released. “Leaving me all alone here.”

Jin-oppa smiled cheekily at that, grabbing her cheeks. “Don’t be dramatic y/n-ah,” he said with a large grin on his face. “You have other friends besides us, and we’ll still talk on our groupchat.”

“But it’s different from seeing you.”

It’s different because there is no Jin-oppa arriving at her house late at night with a bag full of fried chicken. It’s different because there is no Jin-oppa who always laughed and teased her during dance practice. It’s different because there is no Jin-oppa who always bugs her during vocal lessons, joking with that dry humor of his.

It’s different, because Jin-oppa is only the start.

(All of them will leave her soon.)

They parted soon after that, the members leaving Jin-oppa to say goodbye to his family. All of them continue to linger there, watching the older line up amidst other new recruits. She has to admit he looked good and comfortable there. It seems all the preparation that he did beforehand became useful.

As the entrance ceremony came to an end, they said goodbye to Jin-oppa’s family.

“Wanna eat something?” said Jimin-oppa as all of them walked towards the parking lot. “There’s a new restaurant in Gangnam that’s famous for their Japanese food.”

Y/n made a noncommittal noise at that as the other members agreed on that suggestion. Her eyes trained towards her phone.

Her heart did beat a bit faster than normal.

“Who are you texting?”

“No one,” replied y/n almost immediately, shutting off her phone as she directed her attention towards the other member who are staring at her. They had arrived at the Japanese restaurant a short while ago, immediately being ushered towards one of the private rooms. “Seriously.”

Jungkook, the one who asked the first question, quirked an eyebrow at that. “Really?” he probed further. “Because you were smiling dumbly.”

She hit his shoulder. “Rude,” she hissed out.

“Y/n met a guy in Paris,” informed Namjoon-oppa in a true traitorous manner as he casually looked up from his phone. As if he didn’t just betray her absolute trust towards him. “She’s been texting him nonstop since then.”

“Oppa-!” she screeched out.

“Oh?” said Taehyung-oppa, slinging an arm around her shoulder as a teasing glint appeared on his eyes. “Our little sister finally enjoying the beautiful world of romance?”

“Jungkook is younger than me! Stop treating me as if I’m the youngest!”

“But I’m more mature than you though?” piped up Jungkook.

“No no, let’s go back to our main topic,” interjected Jimin-oppa with a knowing grin on his face. “So, y/n finally met a guy? In Paris no less?”

Hobi-oppa laughed at that. “Sounds romantic,” he said, amusement clear on his tone. “Someone we know of?”

“No,” she said with a pout. “He’s not in the entertainment industry.”

The other members raised an eyebrow at that. “How did you even met then?” asked Yoongi-oppa, leaning forward towards the table. “He’s not someone sketchy right? I know this will be your first relationship but don’t meet someone that’s not good-“

“He’s a good guy! Really!” said the female, face red from embarrassment. She can’t believe she’s having this conversation right now. After all, she had only met Charles last week, it’s not like they’re going to get married soon or anything! “I know he didn’t approach me just to… you know, leech off of my fame.”

“And how do you know that?” asked Namjoon-oppa. All of them went quiet when the door to the private room was opened as the waiter gave them their orders. The leader of the group only continues when the waiter left the room. “I know I’m the one that’s encouraging you to get a boyfriend, but I also want you to meet a good guy.”

“He- he doesn’t know me,” said y/n, remembering the look on Charles’s face when they both revealed each other jobs. “Really. I also didn’t even know of him, or even his last name back then.”

Yoongi-oppa raised an eyebrow at that. “So, he’s someone famous?”

“Well, kinda? In certain circles?”

“Wait, wait, wait,” interjected Hobi-oppa. “Didn’t Namjoon told us that you spent the week hanging out with him in Paris?”

“Yes?”

“And back then you didn’t even know his last name?”

“… Yes?”

“Wow,” marveled Hobi-oppa. “It’s a wonder that you didn’t get killed.”

Jimin-oppa actually hits Hobi-oppa’s shoulder at that.

When they arrived back at the company, a red-faced secretary appeared in front of them.

“Y/n-sshi?” called out the woman, catching her attention.

Perking up, she gave her a small smile. “Yeah?” she said as her manager beckoned closer. She could see the rest of the members raising their eyebrows, also stopping on their track as they watched one half of their youngest member being called up. “Do you need something?”

“There’s a delivery for you,” said the woman. “It’s um-“

“Is it a fan gift?” asked her manager. “You know we’re not accepting fan gifts anymore.”

“No, no, no,” denied the woman with a frantic wave of her hands. “It’s a bit big but the managerial office did approve it! They said that it was given by y/n-sshi’s friend!”

And that made her raised an eyebrow. Her friend? She could count her friends with her hands. And knowing them, all of them are not the type of people that would send gifts to her office, and not her directly.

Though that train of thoughts stopped when another man appeared, holding the so-called gift.

It’s a bouquet. A large bouquet of peonies was being held by someone from the managerial office. It’s so big that it’s clear the man is struggling to hold the flower as he walked towards them. Y/n was thankful that they’re already in Bighit floor because she’s sure that her surprised face looked incredibly stupid.

Immediately, one thing came inside her mind.

Charles.

The conversation that they had during their dinner appeared inside of her head. Of her blabbering about her favorite things, peonies being one of them.

“It’s not even in season,” she breathed out, though she’s sure that there’s a large smile appearing on her face as she went to received the flowers. There’s a note in the middle of with English words being written on it. It says-

“Keep smiling for me, from Char, love emoji and a smiling face” reads out Namjoon-oppa as he appeared next to her, startling her. There’s a teasing smile on his face as he turned his attention to her. “Huh, this is actually really romantic.”

“Oppa!” she whined out, trying to hide the note from his prying eyes. “It’s rude to read it like that!”

“But we’re dying to know!” said Hobi-oppa as he slung an arm around her shoulder and peered towards the bouquet of peonies she’s holding. “Oh, so this is from your mysterious man?”

Y/n wants to die. She’s so embarrassed that she’s sure her face is flushed like a boiled seafood at this point.

“Char? Who is that?” asked Yoongi-oppa as he too approached them, staring at the flowers with a narrowed eyes. “The guy you’re seeing?”

“Char sounds like a foreigner name,” piped up Taehyung-oppa.

“It could be Kim Char,” said Jungkook, chiming in.

“Kim Char sounds stupid,” interjected Jimin-oppa with a frown.

She really wants to hide in a hole as the other members began teasing her and the so-called Char.

Though, she really can’t deny the warm feeling that appeared inside of her chest. He knows that she’s really close with the members. He knows how important the members are to her. He knows, that if one of them are leaving, she will be incredibly sad.

It’s the small things. The small gestures that always made her heart beats uncontrollably.

Doesn’t this mean that he also thinks about her? As much as how she’s always thinking about him? Doesn’t this mean that Charles wants to take their relationship a step further?

Warm smile and green eyes.

Dinners and late-night stroll in Paris.

Bouquet of roses and flushed faces.

Hands, intertwining together, and a conversation full of confessions.

This should scare her. This feeling that slowly started to bubble inside of her. This feeling that should not be subjected to a man that she had just met a few weeks ago. A man that should’ve been a stranger to her.

But romance always work in a mysterious way.

Ah, she thought. Incredibly giddy. I really really like him.

Nearing the end of December, Charles invited her for a ski trip with his friends.

She accepted, of course. Despite all of her nervousness, all of her overthinking, she still decided that it’s a great idea to be there. After all, Charles asked her to come. He had invited her to have a glimpse of his world. To introduce her to his friends and letting her in inside of his social circle.

It was nerve wrecking, especially after the realization of her feelings.

When she realized that she likes Charles – too much, too overwhelming – y/n almost went into a denial phase. After all, she had never felt something like this before. She had never allowed anyone to reach her heart this closely before. To realize that there’s someone in her heart-

It’s scary.

She doesn’t know what to do.

Both her and Charles still haven’t talked about their relationship. She knows that she really likes the male, and she knows that Charles probably also likes her. But they never talked about… whatever this was between the two of them.

This easy relationship between them. Where they both openly flirt with each other. Where Charles sent her flowers almost every day since they day they separated in Paris. This relationship where she felt comfortable to talked about everything and yet nothing to the male.

This relationship, where she decided to open her heart to a male with warm green eyes and large dimpled smile.

Maybe that’s why this trip seems important to her. She doesn’t want to lose this relationship after all. She doesn’t want his friends to not like her because they seem important to Charles. She wants them to see that both her and Charles are meant to be.

Despite the sunny smile and the hug that she received from Charles as she landed in Monaco, one glance towards his group of friends made her want to hide in a ditch somewhere. Charles had talked about them. The group of friends that he had been friends since forever. Almost like how bangtan is to her. All of them are guys, though some did bring their significant others, promising her girls company during the trip.

During that trip she met his younger brother for the first time, Arthur Leclerc. He’s three years younger than them with brown hair – lighter than his brother – and a huge smile. Just like Charles, he’s also a racing driver who is competing in the lower category right now.

“It’s good to finally meet the girl that my brother talked about nonstop,” was the greeting that Arthur gave her when they first met.

Y/n pretended that it doesn’t make her flustered.

As time went by, she must admit that the trip was fun. Y/n’s nervousness about giving them a good first impression seems unfounded as all of them welcomed her with an open arm. Some of the girls even giggled and whispered to her that they’re a fan, surprising her greatly. A lot of them seems fascinated by her job, saying things that it’s not every day that they’ll see a kpop artist hanging out with them.

The trip itself seems like a good idea. They had played boardgames together, enjoying the snow, and other activities. Y/n found herself enjoying every minute of it. Until today that is.

“No,” she said, hand shivering – not from the cold for once. “Charles, seriously, I can’t do this.”

Charles let out a laugh, hands gripped her own gloved ones. “Believe in me, chérie,” he said, standing beside her. “It’s not that scary, look at Arthur.”

And of course, Arthur is in front of them, gliding through the snow easily.

“I never went skiing before!” she yelped, flinching back at the mere thought of having to go down the steep mountain with these thin pieces of wood. “I’ll seriously die!”

“No, you’re not,” said Charles with a laugh. “You’re too pretty to die, and I’ll guide you.”

“Are you a professional at skiing?”

“Well, no-“

“Then you don’t have the qualification!”

If possible, he only laughed harder. Somehow finding amusement in her own state of panic. She wants to call him an asshole, but at the same time, Charles is the only thing that’s making sure that she will not tumble forward into the thick snow in front of them.

“Just follow me, three, two-“

“No!”

Charles, who had inched forward, was immediately yanked back by y/n who had surged backwards in pure instinct. The male didn’t expect it, making them tumbled backwards into the heaps of snow.

They landed in a bit of an awkward position. With y/n sprawled across the snow and Charles being practically on top of her, hand caging the female to prevent him to stumbled down towards her. It was an awkward and uncomfortable position, and yet, they didn't made any move to get out from that position.

Both of their eyes met as they stared at each other. Breath mingling with each other.

There was silence between them, as they processed what had just happened. Though, it was soon broken when they both let out a snort and began laughing with each other.

“Hi,” whispered Charles, face so so close. “You, okay?”

She wants to kiss him, she realized as she stared at him. The male looked breathtaking. There is snow on his darker locks, clinging and hanging for dear life. His eyes crinkled from how large his smile is.

Her hand grabbed the side of his face, almost unconsciously. Charles seems a bit surprised at that, though it didn’t take long for him to nuzzle on her gloved hand before giving her palm a kiss.

Thump, her heart beats once. Twice.

Thumpthumpthump-

“Yeah,” she breathed out. “Doesn’t mean I’ll try skiing again though.”

It was also during that ski trip that she asked Charles what they are.

Maybe it was because what happened earlier. Maybe it’s just her inpatient self. Maybe it’s just her wanting some sense of validation.

The both of them are sitting on the porch of their rented villa, hot chocolates on their hand. In the distant, she could hear the loud laughs and screams from their friends, no doubt enjoying the snow together. Both her and Charles had decided to retire early, far too worked up from the drama that y/n had made over skiing and how the male had basically force her to try it.

It didn’t work, leaving them sitting here as they watched the scenery together.

“Hey,” she called out, gaining his attention. “This thing between us… what are we?”

She could see the moment Charles wanting to answer something stupid like a ‘table’ considering there is a small table between the two of them right now. Though, her raised eyebrows seems to deter that intention.

“Well,” started the male, leaning back on his chair. “To start, I really like what’s going on between us.”

“Me too,” agreed the female as she curled her legs towards her chest. “I really like this.”

Charles chuckled at that, hand snaking towards the back of her chair before curling around her shoulder. “What do you want?” he asked. “I’ll follow whatever you want, I know your line of work doesn’t really accept dating but I…” trailed off the male, “I just want you to know that I never had these kinds of feelings with anyone before.”

It’s the same for me, she wants to say. I never felt something like this before.

(“I want you to experience the joy of love, even just once,” said Namjoon-oppa one night. “I think that’s one of the reasons that made us human. To be able love and being loved by others.”

Y/n had stared at him with eyes full of doubt. “Are you sure?” she had asked. “With our line of work, I think that love will only be an inconvenience.”

The male had laughed, patting the top of her head. “You have to experience it yourself to know it, n/n.”)

Maybe this is what Namjoon-oppa meant.

The grip that she had around her chocolate burns, though she really doesn’t care.

Why should she care when Charles is staring at her as if she’s the answer to all of his problems? Why should she care when Charles is staring at her as if the world revolves around her? Why should she care when her heart beats almost erratically – far too fast than usual -?

Why should she care when she’s sure that she shares the same feeling as Charles?

“I…” she started, staring at those warm warm green eyes. “I want us to date,” said the female finally. “Make it official.”

“Yeah?” grinned Charles as he leaned closer. “I also really like that.”

She hummed, cheeks flushed and heart far too loud on her ears.

“Hey, chérie?”

“Hm?”

“Can I kiss you?”

Her world stopped.

Thump, her heart beats once. Twice.

Thumpthumpthumpthump-

E/c meet Charles’s warm green ones. Looking at him this closely, it was as if she could map out the constellation that’s peppering his face. How his long eyelashes perfectly framed his eyes and how his breath almost mingled with hers-

“Yes,” she whispered out.

The first kiss that they shared tasted like chocolate and peppermint.

The first of many.

Video calls had become a norm in their relationship.

Every day, without fail, they would call each other. Most of the time it was when Charles is finishing up his morning workout and she’s having her lunch. Sometimes it’s when Charles just went home – late at night – and y/n had just woken up from her sleep.

It’s nice, to be able to see his face and hear his voice every day.

When they’re not calling each other, the texts between them had become almost unstoppable. Y/n thinks the reason for that was because right now – during this point of time – the both of them are on their respective off season. Charles is having his winter break before the next season starts, and while y/n is preparing her solo debut, it’s not as actively as the other members who have a closer deadline compared to hers.

Despite only being limited to calls and texts, y/n finds herself really enjoying it. There’s just something about being woken up not by an alarm or her manager but by a call from Charles. Or there’s just something about seeing Charles after he had just finishing up his morning workout.

She will literally kill someone to be able to experience all those things directly.

“You’re still chatting with the guy?”

Closing the messenger app, she turned her head towards Taehyung-oppa who’s sitting next to her. Feet stretched and hands curled around the pillow on her lap.

“Yeah,” she said with a hum. “And I told you already, we’re dating now.”

The older chuckled at that. “My bad,” he said with a grin. “It’s a bit weird to think that the girl that always follows me and Jimin around now dating someone,” at this, his tone turned a bit dramatic. “My baby really grew up~”

She snorted at that. “You’re saying the same exact thing to Jungkook.”

“The both of you are my babies though,” said the male. “Anyway, are you going to meet him soon?”

Nodding, she showed him something on her phone. It’s a plane ticket, one way trip to Italy. “We’re going to meet up in Italy in January, before pre-season testing starts.”

“Cool,” replied the older man. “You said he’s a racing driver?”

“F1 driver,” she corrected as she shifted her attention towards the tv that had become, more or less, a background noise for the both of them.

They’re sitting inside bts artist lounge in HYBE, a room dedicated solely for them. She had been eternally grateful when the company made this room. After all, despite everything, a lot of the younger celebrities can’t relax when they’re in the same room with them.

“Why the sudden questions?” she asked, cocking her eyebrow together.

“Well,” started Taehyung-oppa. “You know how I went filming that new variety show in Mexico?”

Y/n nodded.

“My co-stars asked for your number,” he blurted out. “They’ve been asking for a while, to be honest. But they did become more persistent when it was announced that we’re having a group hiatus for a while.”

She fell silent at that.

Bts group hiatus had changed a lot of things, be it professionally or personally. More brands had approached her for their advertisements and campaigns, realizing that for the next few years, she wouldn’t be tied with bts as a group. Even collaborations, dramas, or even variety shows, had contacted HYBE for a chance of collaboration with her.

The female knows that the same thing also happened to the boys. More chance to do solo work, more chance to branch out of bts – the very thing that had become their life for the past years.

In a more personal manner, well-

Somehow, many had interpreted their hiatus as their disbandment. That this is the end of them as a group. That there is no way for them to reunite once again under bts. Which means many people had tried to get to know her more… personally.

She had enough discreet confessions and veiled flirtation during her time as an idol to last a lifetime. Somehow, those kinds of things increased dramatically now.

“You know my answer to that,” she chuckled weakly. “It’s like dating the best friends of your brother, weird,” continued the female.

“I know, I know,” waved of Taehyung-oppa.

A lot of things are changing, and she never felt so scared before.

She greeted Charles with a hug as he descended from the private plane.

“Hey,” said y/n, releasing the hug. Though, she could still feel Charles’s hand still curling around her waist. “Welcome to Korea,”

The male let out a laugh. “Such a warm welcome,” he teased.

Y/n rolled her eyes at that, still grinning, before she grabbed her hand and immediately drag him to the privacy of her car.

When Charles said that he wants to visit Korea, y/n immediately had everything prepared. From places to visit to foods that they should try together. Before this, she never realized how fun arranging a trip is.

For obvious reason, they can’t go to the popular places like Everland or other amusement parks. Museums though, is still an option. Charles had shown interest in arts and things like that, so y/n had asked Namjoon-oppa recommendations about museums that they should visit.

Besides museums, she had also dragged him to all of her favorite restaurants. Restaurants that only local knows. From the authentic Korean foods to fusions with western influences. She’s glad that Charles is not afraid to try different kind of food, though the expression on his face when he saw a still moving octopus on his plate is a bit too funny to not be recorded.

Despite its being a short trip, she had taken so many photos of Charles. There’s one from Jeju Island, there’s one with him holding a bts album, there’s also one when he fell asleep on her bed.

It warms her heart, to see her boyfriend inside her house.

It warms her heart so much that that photo became her lockscreen.

A team from Cartier had come to South Korea to shoot a campaign with her.

They had marveled and exclaimed, patting her skin with makeup as they talked in rapid French and English.

“Dearie,” said one of them, painted lips smiling widely. “You’re glowing, more so than when I saw you in Paris.”

She hummed at that.

Paris felt like a lifetime ago. So many things had happened that she almost lost track of time. “You think so?” she asked with an easy smile. “Do I look better?”

“Of course,” said another as she clasped a diamond necklace on her neck. “You look amazing, dear.”

Y/n laughed at that. “You give me too much praise.”

“No, no, no,” said the woman. “I’m telling you the truth here!”

“Of course, of course,” she answered easily. “So, what kind of glow do I emit?”

“You look like a woman in love.”

Her heart almost stopped at that.

Love.

Isn’t it far too soon?

Isn’t she falling in love far too easily?

“Really?” asked the female, trying to not show her wavering voice. “Do I really look like a woman in love?”

“Yes,” breathed out the woman. “A woman, who had fell in love deeply.”

Maybe I am.

She went to Italy late January.

The first thing that appeared inside her mind when she arrived to Maranello is, obviously, Ferrari. From her hotel room with bright red walls and a picture of a Ferrari Formula One car team hanging everywhere, to the prancing horse statues that she sees everywhere in the town.

It seems, the team is the pride and joy of the town, she thought as she watched the Ferrari flag hanging from the building as she made her way to the city center. Which is good, because this means that no one will recognize a random kpop idol in the middle of this formula one obsessed city.

Charles is the star here. Every time he appeared, every time he went into town, everyone would crowd around him.

“Charles!” yelled one of them in Italian when both y/n and Charles is having lunch. “You did good last season!”

The male laughed, yelling a “Thank you!” towards the other.

It happened so many times that she almost lost count. It’s clear that he’s adored and loved. Though, to see how loved he is, is a bit surprising.

“You’re so famous,” she said as she entered their hotel room. “It’s amazing to see.”

He hugs her from behind, wrapping his arm around her torso tightly. “It’s a bit weird for you to say that” he said, a bit muffled on her neck. “You have like 50 million followers, chérie.”

“Followers doesn’t mean everything,” she laughed, as they moved towards the balcony on their room.

From here, they could see the city of Maranello almost at its entirety. Something that she surely will remember when she went back to Korea.

Charles had released his hold over her, entering their room before appearing besides her with two glasses of wine. He handed one of them towards her without a word.

“My name is going to be here one day,” said Charles, hand circling around her shoulder. “In one of the streets.”

Y/n nuzzled further towards the crook of his neck. “Is that a Ferrari driver privilege?” she asked.

“No, it’s Ferrari’s world champion privilege,” said the male with a grin. “I’m going to win it.”

She let out a hum at that. The way Charles phrased that statement is not ‘if I win it’ but ‘I’m going to win it’. It’s so full of conviction and truth. He truly believes that one day, he will win the championship under Ferrari.

“You really love Ferrari,” she stated, looking up towards him.

Charles looked down, one hand coming to her face to pinch her cheek softly. “It’s my dream team,” he said. “All my life- it’s always the red car for me. I remember watching the grand prix from my friend balcony and all I could see it the red car winning the races.”

His dedication to his team is inspiring. The way he talked about Ferrari, it was as if he’s talking about his family. There’s a certain shine on his eyes as he rambled about his races and how great the car that they had last season.

It almost reminded her of her own team.

Devotion. That’s what she could feel from Charles. He had devoted his life for Ferrari. He had made his mind – and she knows that the male is a really stubborn guy – that he will win with Ferrari. That he will prove his nickname as the predestined one to be true. To bring back, the championship to Ferrari.

After all, when you win with Ferrari, you became legend.

“Of course,” she said, smiling. “And when you win your first championship, I will be there, cheering for you.”

The smile that Charles gave her is almost blinding.

“Do you think making our relationship public a good idea?”

Y/n stared at him, unable to answer.

She doesn’t know.

Surprisingly, Hybe doesn’t object her decision to make her relationship public.

“You’re in your tenth year already,” said PD-nim as the older male ate his dinner in front of her. “And this kind of things… didn’t we promise all of you that we will give you full reign over it?”

She tightened the grip on her chopstick.

Because what the male said is the truth. In order to make sure that all of them can do their reunion in 2025, they had decided to renew the contract with HYBE. Full reign over their artistic directory and personal life is one of the clause.

Still, even though HYBE gave her their permission, y/n can’t help but second doubting that decision.

Dating scandal is a taboo. It could ruin her career. It could ruin bts’s career. The stigma of her sleeping around with her members would grow once again. People would talk. How she’s a slut. How she’s only dating rich men.

It could be the end of her.

“I don’t think you should worry much,” said Jimin-oppa as she asked him about his opinion. “You should belief in our fans, not random online trolls.”

And the thing is- yes. She believes on their fans.

She knows that ARMY wants her to be happy.

She knows that ARMY won’t turn their back on her over these kinds of things.

But still, it’s only normal for her to be a bit nervous at this kind of things. She’s going to share a huge part of her life after all. The first one to ever publicized her relationship in bts.

Scary.

So so scary.

“We’re going to put up the announcement tomorrow if you’re sure with this,” said her manager, showing the already written announcement. “There will be backlash, obviously, but I think this decision will be healthier for you.”

“Yes,” she answered. “I know.”

“This can also be the start of a movement, y/n,” said the male. “It’s about time for the Korean entertainment industry to get rid of the dating taboo. Idols are human. They’re not some machine and dolls that the public can control. They deserve to love and to be loved.”

Idols are not dolls.

It’s normal for them to crave a romantic relationship.

“You are the biggest celebrity in South Korea,” continue her manager. “With you publicly announcing your relationship, we can change the industry to have a better culture around idols.”

And,

And isn’t that what bts stands for?

They want to change the culture in the South Korean entertainment industry. They want to break all of the stigma that everyone has over idols. They want to make a better working environment for the idols in this industry.

Less abuse.

Less control.

More freedom.

They want idols to have more power over their company and the public. They want idols to have their own hold over their life. They want idols to be able to live like an actual human being. To know things and to be able to experience normal emotions that they never had felt before.

They, want to change this industry.

With that, she steeled her nerve one last time.

“Yes,” she finally said. “Let’s announce it to the world.”

Hello this is Bighit Music

This is an official statement regarding Y/n L/n, one of the artist under HYBE labels.

Recently, Y/n had entered a romantic relationship with a close friend of hers, Charles Leclerc. They are maintaining a serious relationship.

Please show lots of support so they can continue this beautiful relationship.

Thank you.

Truth to be told, when Charles first started a conversation with the pretty girl on the bar, he was not expecting anything besides a quick hookup or maybe a mere short conversation.

While it’s true that she’s beautiful – probably the most beautiful woman that he had ever seen – he doesn’t have any plan to pursue her. He was so sure that he’s not looking for any relationship. The sting of finishing second on the championship after completely dominating the first few races had still annoyed him greatly. Charles was determined that for the next season he will only focus on his racing career and the battle for the title of world champion.

That is, until the woman smiled at him.

He had never been a believer of love at first sight. He had always thought that love is something that you need to nurture. Something that you should put a lot of effort in. He had believed that love is not something spontaneous. It was not something that struck you all of the sudden in the middle of an overpriced celebrity exclusive charity gala.

Though, what does Charles know about love anyway?

When the woman let out that bright grin – eyes crinkling, and eyebrows raising a bit – he felt as if his world became a brighter. That all of the sudden the loud music around them became quiet and the only thing that he could focused on is her and only her.

As if, there is no burden of the Ferrari legacy on his shoulder. As if, he haven't let down the tifosi these past few years. As if, the sting of coming second place in the driver championship had been nonexistent.

Throughout the night as they continue to converse, he can’t help but follow each of her movement. The way that she will twirl her hair around her finger when she got nervous, the way her long nails gripped the glass, the way her painted lips would stretch into the most beautiful smile he had ever seen as she laughed and converse with him.

They talked about everything and yet nothing. From his horrible attempt of flirting to her decision to drink alone in the middle of the event. He could see the glances that was being thrown around towards them, a blatant show of them being interested on their conversation.

When the night was over, he was half in love already. Giving her his name and number is a no brainer.

Honestly, he was not expecting her to response to his offer for dinner. They didn’t know anything about each other after all. Though another part of him is trying to convince himself that that’s what having a dinner for. To get to know each other.

He had stared at his phone for a long time, glancing at it every couple of minutes until his manager reprimanded him about being distracted. That is until she responded, saying that she would love to have a dinner with him.

The few days where they had dinner together is the highlight of his trip to Paris. Which is a bit funny because he doesn’t even want to come to Paris at first – citing about medias and promoting brands that he had never even used before. Though in the end, he had been grateful at his decision to come.

Meeting y/n, had changed his world.

It was as if, his previously monotone world is now being filled with color. As if, before he met this woman, he never truly knows what living means.

It’s crazy how much he enjoys being in her presence. How much he loves to make her laugh and to show him sides that she had never allowed anyone else to see.

It’s crazy, how fast he’s falling in love with her.

“Are you serious with her?” asked Pierre when they met in Monaco. “Because dating her will bring a lot of media attention. This isn’t like your previous relationship, Char.”

He knows.

He knows that there’s a lot of risk from dating her. From dating such a high profile star like her. He knows all of that. If Charles is a smarter man, he would’ve ran. If Charles is a smarter man, he would stop all of his advances towards her. If Charles is a smarter man-

Y/n lets out a laugh.

It's the most beautiful thing in the world.

Well.

Charles had always been stupid, isn’t he?

Spending time with her is addicting. It was as if he wants to spend every second of her life with her. As if he’s ready to commit-

The skiing trip had been blissful. He had felt that him and y/n had grown closer and closer. The kiss that they shared during the trip also helps the giddy feeling that always erupted inside of his chest every time he thinks about her.

I’m in love with her, he thinks. I’m in love with her, he wants to scream so that the world knows his feelings.

It’s addicting. He thinks this feeling will never fade.

He thought that there is no way he can love her more than now, though, as he saw her walking in the paddock, wind brushing her hair as she stood there inside the Ferrari garage-

Yes, he thought. I want to spend my life with her.

Going to a Formula One race is not something that she really had thought of before.

Her dad is a big fan though. When she was a kid and before her family moved to South Korea, her dad used to take their family to watch the Italian Grand Prix every year. Back then, she was not that interested – to the dismay of her father – and then as she grew up, she got way too busy to even think about the sport anymore.

At last, until today.

The loud sound of the engine reverberated throughout the track.

Y/n could feel the tense atmosphere that engulfed the Ferrari garage. All of them watching the screen with nervousness clear on their face.

Charles is leading the race with a red bull hot on his tail.

She doesn’t know that she will be this invested on watching fast cars going in circles, but this is Charles. This is the love of her life riding the fast cars going in circles.

There are a lot of hushed whispers, people commenting and watching the race with a bated breath. The sky is dark, only making the bright light around the track a bit more intimidating.

“Do you think he’ll win?” she asked Fred, the team principal of Ferrari. He had welcomed y/n with an open arm earlier. It seems that he’s delighted by the attention that y/n had brought to the team. “I’m- I’m really nervous.”

“If he keep this pace,” started the older man. “I’m positive that he will take the win.”

("I'm going to be a world champion," said Charles, tone full of confidence. He's sure of that. He's sure, that someday, he will bring back the championship to Ferrari.

And y/n wants to believe.)

It’s really nerve wrecking to see the last few laps. After all, from what she knows, the Red Bull that’s chasing Charles is last year championship winner, Max Verstappen. Charles had also said that there’s an ongoing intense rivalry between him and Max. A rivalry that had spanned across their childhoods up until now.

Their rivalry had been compared to the greats of Formula One. Niki Lauda and James Hunt. Senna and Prost.

Leclerc and Verstappen.

It meant a lot to Charles. He had confessed that he had been chasing Max's back for years. To desperately prove to everyone that Charles is too, a once in a generation talent. That he too, will be one of the greats in Formula One.

This time, it's Max chasing Charles.

She can only breathed out a chocked sob when Charles entering his last lap, still leading the race.

“Oh my god,” she said as the Ferrari team ran out of the garage. “Oh my god!”

She watched as Charles takes the win.

It was a celebration that he had only ever watched through the screen. A sea of red. Ferrari flags waving from the wind. Words full of adoration and reverence.

Charles, who had climbed out of his car and standing on top of it, pointing towards the sky as he shouted out his happiness.

"YES!" he had screamed, joy clear on his face and on his voice. "YESS!"

Y/n chocked out a sob.

He really won the first race of the season. An amazing way to start the season. A season that meant so much to him.

She stood there, amongst the crowd of red as she stared at her boyfriend being hugged by his team. Soon, his attention drifted towards her, and an even larger grin appeared on his face.

“You did it,” she whispered out as she hugged him. He let out a a loud laugh at that. “That was amazing-“

The female didn’t finish her words as Charles cut it as he pressed their lips together. She could feel countless cameras and eyes directed towards them as whoops and hollers appeared all around them.

She will be scolded by her manager.

The company will call her after this.

Though, she seems to not care about all of that at this moment.

“I love you,” he breathed out as their lips parted.

Grin still wide and a bit teary eyed, she lets out. “I love you, too.”

It’s safe to say that their fans broke the internet shortly after.

End

#formula one fanfiction #f1 fanfic #formula one x reader #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #formula one imagine #f1 fic #formula one fanfic #charles leclerc x reader #f1 fanfiction #charles leclerc fic #charles leclerc imagine #charles leclerc fanfiction #charles leclerc fanfic #f1 fluff #formula 1 fanfiction #formula 1 fanfic #Formula one x reader #idol!reader

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borathae · 1 year ago

Text

"If there is one thing you love to do, it is to pamper your boyfriend. So when Yoongi has been feeling especially stressed lately, you decide that it is time to treat him like the precious prince he is."

Pairing: Vampire!Yoongi x Witch!Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, polyamory!AU, domestic Fluff, Smut

Warnings: a stressed!Yoongi, she pampers him, casual nudity, this story consists of two parts: one fluffy and one smutty, the next warnings are for the smutty part, morning cuddles which lead to sex, sleepy & subby!Yoongi, service Dom!Reader, handjob in spooning position, little spoon!Yoongi heheh, neck kisses, gentle choking, praise, loving dirty talk, nipple play, blowjob, cum licking, overstimulation, a lil bit of gentle CBT, he is a painslut so he loves it, multiple orgasms for him, hand holding, he is sensitive & loves being touched <3

Wordcount: 10.4K

a/n: istfg i love men jfasjdfja okay that is a lie, i love men like mv!boongie <3 my precious prince <3 also lmao if someone tries to look up the definition of oral fixation, my name would show up ajdjfa like. can i write something other than oral sex? i don't fucking think so ahahah i'm telling you this stems from my childhood addiction of sucking my own thumb every chance i got until i was thirteen ahaha that shit shaped my frontal cortex or whatever part of the brain is in charge of kink development jsjdf

You like trying out new things. Especially when those new things involve surprising your amazing, wonderful, lovely boyfriend Yoongi.

Today, you left a little something in his wing to find. A letter, telling him of how much you wanted to be with him tonight including a very detailed description of your plans and your location shall he want the same.

Yoongi should be out for most of the day, training with Jungkook and later meeting up with some of his creations in town to go over future plans of strengthening the vampire community. With Namjoon’s followers mostly gone and their Creator hidden from the world, the community has been brittle. Attacks on peaceful vampire communities by hostile werewolves or witches became way too common in cities where peace was already brittle to begin with. Yoongi and his followers are currently creating strategies which will ensure the peace without cities breaking into a full supernatural civil war. Which means that he is a very busy man lately, coming home later than usual and with little energy left to cook. He feels really bad about it, even if you keep ensuring him that it was never his responsibility to feed you and that you can cook for yourself while he relaxed.

It worked for a little while until he began stressing out over not being able to cook on top of all the other stress he is currently experiencing. Truly, if he didn’t posses supernatural healing you are sure that he would have already greyed by now from all the stressing he has been doing these past few weeks.

But you want to change that tonight. You want him to feel so relaxed that stress ceases to be part of his vocabulary.

By now, it’s already way past eight. Yoongi should have been home for at least thirty minutes. You want to check on him, but are scared to ruin the letter surprise this way. So you take out your phone and text Jungkook instead.

He answers you ten minutes later.

- Baby ♡: I don’t know if he’s home yet. I’ve been home since six ♡♡♡

- Baby ♡: I’m sorry baby ♡♡♡

- You: It’s fine. Don’t worry about it ♡♡♡

- Baby ♡: Are you scared that something happened? ♡♡♡

- You: No, but I have a surprise for him ♡♡♡

- Baby ♡: ooooooh *o* a surprise *O*

- You: yeah… :D I wrote him a letter telling him to come to my wing if he wanted to have a spa day ♡♡♡

- Baby ♡: wowie *^* spa days are so nice ♡♡♡ I’m sure he’ll be home soon heh ♡♡♡

- You: yeah probably ♡♡♡

- Baby ♡: hehe ♡♡♡♡

You send him one more round of hearts and then place the phone aside, turning your attention back to the task at hand. The surprise has been prepared, which means that you have free time and what better way to use said free time than to do some gardening in the greenhouse.

Only easy tasks like pruning the roses and picking off dead leaves from your wisteria. You don’t want to get too dirty in case Yoongi comes home.

The man of the hour comes home only a few moments after you texted Jungkook. You are currently in the back of the greenhouse, looking at the perfectly pruned roses when he calls out for you.

“___?”

Your heart flutters. He is here. Hopefully he read the letter first before coming here. It would make the surprise all the more exciting.

“My love, are you here?”

“I’m coming!”

You meet him in the middle. Right where you shared so many breakfasts together.

Like always lately, the heaviness of a long and stressful day drags down his shoulders. It is so obvious to you these days, now that you know him so well.

“Hello there, my prince”, you greet him, opening your arms.

“Hey”, he says, falling into the hug gladly. He even buries his face in the crook of your neck and releases a loud sigh. It was the kind of sigh which sheds the heart of sorrow.

“Did you have a good day?”

“No.”

“Gosh, I’m sorry. Lots of stress?”

“Yeah”, he murmurs into you, tickling your skin with the timbre of his voice, “did you eat already?”

“I did. Don’t worry.”

“I’m sorry that I couldn’t cook. I promise I’ll make time on the weekend. I just have so much to do and I just”, he stops talking to sigh instead, pressing himself closer to you, “I’m tired”, he confesses in a whisper.

“Don’t worry about it, my love. I don’t want you to think that feeding me is your job. I can cook for myself, okay?”

“I guess.”

“Well, I can”, you assure him and squeeze him gently, “did you get my letter?"

“Letter?”

“Yes, I left it on your bed.”

“No, I wasn’t in my wing yet. I came straight to you.”

“Oh okay. Mhm sad, I wanted to surprise you.”

“I can go right now. I’m sorry, I have so much to do. I didn’t have time yet and I-”

“Hush, it’s okay”, you stop him, massaging his scalp gently.

Yoongi lets out a sound of defeat and murmurs into your neck, “I’m gonna cry. I don’t know for how long I can still do this.”

“Oh Yoongi, I’m sorry you feel this way”, you say and give him a squeeze, “do you have to work again tomorrow?”

“No, they’ll be gone till next week. But I have to do so much work at home. There’s so much shit to go through and, and people to call and I don’t wanna.”

“Okay, I see. At least you can plan your time how you want to tomorrow. Yeah?”

“I guess.”

He doesn’t sound convinced, which you can’t blame him for.

“I prepared a few things for you if you want to. I promise it will relax you.”

“What do you mean?” he lifts his head, staring at you with bloodshot eyes, “why did you prepare something?”

“Because you’re stressed and I wanna spoil you.”

“Why?”

“What do you mean why? Because I want to and you deserve it.”

“Okay?”

“Mh-hm, now come along. I’ll give you the best spa night ever.”

“Really?” he gets out, stumbling after you.

“Yes, really.”

“But why me?”

“Because you’re my love.”

“Oh.”

You lead him to your bathroom. You talk as you walk.

“It would make a lot more sense if you read my letter. I was being really cheesy in it and talked all about how I’ll make you feel like a king.”

“Oh. Okay”, he is shy. You know that he is.

“Yeah and then I told you to come find me in my wing. Which is why I asked you if you read my letter.”

“Sorry. I wanted to see you first."

“That’s okay. I should have figured. I’m just glad that you’re home safe”, you tell him and turn. You have reached your closed bathroom door, “close your eyes.”

“Okay?” Yoongi says and follows.

“Don’t peek.”

“I won’t.”

You open the door and take both his hands afterwards. You guide him into the room. Yoongi sniffles instantly.

“It smells good.”

“Don’t look yet. Okay?”

“I’m not. I’m just saying.”

You place him just a little away from the door so you could close it. Then you snap your fingers, lighting the dozens and dozens of candles in the room. Being a witch fucking rocks. You don’t even have to work for romantic lighting, you just have to snap your fingers. With a another snap of your fingers the record player starts playing Yoongi’s favourite album for relaxation. His lips curls into a smile.

“I know that song”, he says with happiness in his voice.

“Yeah, definitely. Don’t peek.”

“For how long? What are you doing?”

“Soon.”

“You’re making it so suspenseful.”

One last snap of your fingers to turn off the main lights.

“Okay. Open your eyes.”

Yoongi follows, looking around the warmly lit room. You filled the bathtub with water and rose petals, mixing in your most relaxing bathing oils. On the side table, a glass of his favourite whiskey cocktail is waiting and you prepared his most comfortable pyjamas to wear. You also created a big bouquet of flowers, which he knows for a fact you will want him to keep in his wing. You love getting him flowers and he loves receiving them even he gets incredibly shy because of it.

“Princess”, he gets out, looking at you with sparkly eyes. They look so close to tearing up.

“Surprise”, you say, stretching your arms above your head, “it was pretty obvious what I’ll do in the bathroom, but surprise.”

Yoongi looks away and at the room again, touching his own tummy as he does. His eyes sparkle in the candlelight.

“Do you like it?”

“Yes. Thank you so much”, he says and nods his head.

You close the distance and hug him. Yoongi hugs you back instantly, hiding his face in your neck like always.

“I’m happy that you love it. I have a lot more prepared. So I hope that you’re ready.”

“I am”, he mumbles, “thank you so much.”

“Hm”, you hum and pat his butt, “you have to get naked for the bath.”

“I know. Can I do it alone?”

“Of course. I’ll be by the sink preparing the facial.”

“What did you prepare?”

“Just something nice. I looked up a tutorial. Trust me, I’m a professional skincarer now.”

“Skincarer isn’t even an actual word”, Yoongi says in a laugh as he is slowly getting naked.

“Doesn’t matter. I’ll give you the best facial ever.”

“You’re aware of how that sounds, right?”

“Oh, I know. If you had read my letter, you would know that I have prepared a spicy section too if you are still awake after my super duper king spa treatment special.”

Yoongi chuckles, “okay, I’ll try to stay awake.”

“No pressure though. Tonight’s about you. I can do it tomorrow too or whenever you’re in the mood.”

“Okay. Ah shit.”

You turn, “what happened?”

He is by the bath, buttnaked and with his toe wet.

“The water’s cold”, he says.

“I know. I didn’t know when you’d be back, so I filled it with cold water. Don’t worry, I’ll warm it up”, you say and hurry to him. You stick your right hand into the water and mumble the magical words. Your eyes glow golden for just a moment before your hand gets a fiery shine to it. The water warms up slowly and you only stop once it is giving of a gentle steam.

“Test it now”, you tell him.

Yoongi lifts his foot and lowers it into the water, “good”, he says and steps inside the bathtub. He lowers himself, pushing the water aside. It reaches him just a little over his nipples once he is submerged entirely.

“There we go. Are you comfy?” you ask him.

He is looking up at you with his knees pulled to his chest and his arms hugging them, “can I have it a little warmer, please?” he asks shyly.

“Of course”, you say, sticking your hand back into the water, “I’ll go slow, so tell me once it’s good for you.”

“Okay.”

Your eyes glow, your hand shines and soon the water begins warming up more and more. The relaxing oils activate with the magical heat, tainting the water milky and filling Yoongi’s nose with a wonderful smell. He feels droopy and oh so relaxed because of it. Yoongi lets you warm the water for a few moments, staring at your face with a fluttering tummy. He is so, so happy about the surprise and he loves it so much. Even if he is too tired to show his true excitement, he is bursting in it. Truly, he feels so lucky to be with you.

“Okay, stop”, he says.

“Got it.”

You stand up and dry your hand on the towel you laid out for Yoongi. Then you hurry to the back of him, placing your hands on his shoulders.

“Lean back.”

He does so without resistance, letting out a surprised gasp when his head sinks into a soft cushion. The water reaches him a little under his neck now.

“Huh?” he sneaks a glance at the pillow..

“Is it comfy?”

“Yeah, really. Where did you get that?”

“Internet. I purchased it a few weeks ago, but never got to using it. Do you like it?”

“Yeah”, he says and relaxes his entire body. He even stretches out his legs and closes his eyes, “thank you for this”, he whispers.

“Don’t thank me too soon. Are you ready for your super duper king special treatment facial?”

“Yeah.”

“Nice, just tell me if you need anything else. Your favourite cocktail’s on the table.”

“Yeah, thank you”, he says and reaches for it. He spills some water on the ground, but that doesn’t matter right now. He drinks his cocktail while you gather the skincare products. “it tastes good”, he tells you.

“Yeah? That’s good to hear.”

Yoongi places it aside and submerges his arm back in the warm water. Then he lets his head fall into the cushion, looking up at you that way. You place your hand on his forehead so you could brush his hair out of his face. You secure a headband around his head, making sure to reveal his entire forehead to you. His eyes fall closed instantly, his lips part as a relaxed sigh leaves him.

“I’ll get started now, yeah?”

“Just do whatever, as long as I don’t gotta talk.”

“Don’t worry, no more talking”, you assure him and smooch his forehead, “relax my love, I’m getting started.”

You start off the treatment by cleaning off the day with a gentle oil cleanser.

“Are you putting oil on my face?” he asks, trying to move away at the unfamiliar feeling, but you stop him with a firm hand on his forehead.

“Yes, it’s called double cleansing. Trust me.”

“Okay?”

“Trust me.”

“I am, just feels weird”, he mumbles as he relaxes again.

“It’ll help.”

Once you washed off the oil, you use a soft smelling foam cleanser. Yoongi sniffles vividly as you spread it on his face, voicing his liking for it with a low hum. You wipe the foam away with a warm towel, making sure to be extra careful around the eyes.

Once he is clean and patted dry, you begin with the true treatment. You spread a soothing toner with a cotton pad on his face and follow it up with a serum. You know that physically it is impossible for his skin to show signs of exhaustion, age or stress. Hell, he can’t even get impurities because his healing powers prevent him from getting them. But you still believe that a good calming serum will do his skin good. Even if it’s just to help relax his mind.

After the serum, a sheet mask follows.

“Ah, hey”, he gasps and opens his eyes, “that’s wet”, he complains, trying to move away again.

“It’s a sheet mask. Close your eyes and stop moving.”

“Does all of that even do anything?”

“Yes, it’ll relax you and make your face glow. Close your eyes.”

Yoongi follows, even if hesitant at first, but begins to relax again when you run your fingers over his face in order to smooth out the mask. It tingles so nicely.

“Okay, that’ll have to stay on your face for twenty minutes. Do you want a head massage in the mean-”

“Yes”, Yoongi interrupts you.

You chuckle, “I take this as a clear yes”, you say and wash your fingers in the bath water. You dry them on the towel and then return to your spot behind him.

You start off by opening the headband and keeping his hair off his forehead with a warm hand on his head.

“I watched a lot of tutorials on head massages, so get ready for the best massage ever.”

“Mhm.”

And so they begin. The most amazing and wonderful and perfect twenty minutes of Yoongi’s life. You weren’t lying when you told him that he will experience the best head massage ever, because he does. He really, really does. You not only pay attention to his entire scalp, you also make sure to massage his tense jaw muscles behind his ear and to loosen the knots in his tight neck muscles. By the time those twenty minutes are over, Yoongi hasn’t closed his mouth in ten minutes and he doesn’t even know that his mouth is open. He is entirely and completely relaxed.

You take off his mask without talking, placing it on the table for now. You waste no time, using the excess serum to massage his face as well. Starting off at his forehead and brows, you guide your skilled finger along his temples, massage his jaw muscles and tense tongue muscle along his throat and you make sure to target every single inch of his face. You even incorporate a gentle massage on the more tender spots, meant to soothe and not to relax tensions, and Yoongi is in heaven. He really is. This is more than heaven. This is his personal paradise, the reason why he exists. It feels so good. His body can’t stop tingling and he swears that he actually feels as if he is floating. He was so stressed, but he isn’t anymore. It soothes him so much to be so pampered.

Once the serum has been massaged into his skin thoroughly, you begin putting on moisturiser, giving him a softer massage in order not to stress out his skin barrier. You go especially gently on his eyelids, kissing each of them after you finished spreading the cream.

Once his face glows from being pampered, you spread a thin layer of scalp serum on your palms for one last round of a deep and relaxing scalp massage.

By now, Yoongi is sleeping. There is no sugar coating the truth. Your once stressed boyfriend is slumbering peacefully with his lips apart and his face entirely slack in relaxation. He looks so adorable like this.

You give his shoulders a thorough massage as well, ending it off by caressing his chest and then your massage is officially finished. Face glowing, scalp nourished and muscles relaxed he is sleeping in the bathtub while you gaze at him with fond eyes.

That’s what you wanted to happen. He finally looks relaxed.

You play with the thought of waking him for a moment. You really have to, don’t you?

You decide to clean up first. He should sleep as much as he can before you have to cruelly wake him again. You turn off the record player and even take a quick shower so you can change into your pyjamas. Afterwards you do your own skincare and brush your teeth. Yoongi is sleeping through all of it.

Only then – and once you extinguished the candles – you return to him, cupping his cheeks to shake him awake.

“My love”, you whisper with a heavy heart, “my love, wake up.”

Yoongi begins responding after a few moments. First he huffs out air, then he whines and shakes his head until he finally opens his eyes.

He looks just slightly mad to be woken like this, but most of all, way too sleepy for his own good.

“I know. I’m sorry for waking you, but I need to get you outta the water and into your pjs”, you whisper.

Yoongi makes a small sound and moves. It looks and feels robotic. You know that he is barely conscious and only really does what his muscles remember to do.

He gets out of the bath with your help and plops down on the edge of the tub. You open the drain and just about manage to wrap the towel around him because then he is already falling against you, barely awake and so terribly sleepy.

“-eepy”, he mumbles quietly, rubbing his cheek against your shoulder.

“Almost done, my love. We just gotta get you dry and into your pjs, yeah? Can you work with me? Please?”

Yoongi nods his head and somehow manages to get up and follow you to the pyjamas. He manages to put them on, even if his eyes were closed through the entirety of it. And then he stumbles into the bedroom with your hand tightly in his’ and his trust fully put into you. He doesn’t open his eyes even once, only when you tell him to get into bed.

He sinks into the pillow, letting out a sleepy sound of relaxation.

You tug him in and get under your blanket.

“Is nice”, he mumbles, reaching for you.

“Mhm, that’s good to hear”, you say before giving him a kiss on his temple. Afterwards, you roll over to turn off the bedside lamp. Now hued into darkness, you return to him and place your hand on his cheek to caress it softly, “sleep tight, my love”, you whisper and the last thing Yoongi does before he truly falls back to sleep is seek you out for nightly cuddles.

And if one thought that this warm, little snippet of your wonderful life together was over, one was mistaken. As the next part of this warm, little snippet is entirely dedicated to how you woke up with Yoongi as your little spoon the next day and how you made good of the promise you gave him last night. Shall one wish to live in negligence, one can stop reading now. However, shall one find themselves with a certain desire for Yoongi’s blissful morning hours, one shall continue to indulge in this warm, little snippet a little longer. Whatever path one might choose, one shall always know that Yoongi is truly and soul-consumingly happy ever since he is yours and he will continue to be truly and soul-consumingly happy for as long as he is by your side.

Although you fell asleep later than Yoongi, you wake first. You don’t feel tired, as a matter of fact, you feel so well rested that you could definitely start off your day by running around. You know that it is because Yoongi radiated so much tranquillity throughout the night, which in return helped you rest as well.

Smiling because you are so happy that last night’s plan worked, you pull him tighter against your chest and drape your leg over his hips. Now he can’t escape and you can get lost in the amazing feeling of holding him. He fits so perfectly into your arms and he is so warm and smells heavenly too. You nuzzle your nose deep into his hair and kiss the nape of his neck this way.

Yoongi cut his hair again. Not as short as he had it when you first met him, but it had grown to a length where he disliked it. So he cut it again and thinned it out at the back. Not that thinning out did a lot for him. He has the thickest hair even. Even all the thinning left behind enough to grab and hold and play with him. And also enough to get lost in. He seriously smells so, so good.

You hug him tighter and inhale deeply, waking him with it. He makes himself known by letting out a deep and quiet hum.

“Mhm, morning”, you answer him, rubbing his tummy.

“Mhm”, Yoongi purrs.

Nothing more is exchanged between the two of you. You continue to smell his soft hair and kiss whatever part of his head you can reach, while Yoongi travels between the world of the awake and the dreaming. He ends up staying in his dream world. You prop yourself up on your elbow and glance at his face. You have to remove your leg from his hip, but you don’t mind because you can feel his butt against your crotch this way. His head rests on your lower arm and his hand is mere inches away from holding your wrist. His fingers twitch as he very obviously dreams and it makes you wonder if he is currently dreaming about holding your hand. It would be so cute if he did.

You move the arm you have draped around him so you could touch his hand. His fingers, knuckles and veins. He has the most beautiful hands. You caress his wrist for a little and then move to trace his face, using the back of your hand for it. His cheeks are so soft, his skin feels so healthy. You also think that it is glowing especially prettily this morning and you know for a fact that it is because of last night’s spa treatment.

You were so happy last night because he took the surprise with so much enthusiasm. Truly, you have the best boyfriend ever.

You lean down and kiss his cheek.

“Mhm”, Yoongi wakes because of it, sounding a lot more energized than last time. Forty minutes had passed since then. Yoongi chases your kiss by moving his head so he could look at you, “morn’in.”

“Good morning”, you tell him and kiss his lips.

He kisses you back, which means that he was actually awake this time around. He smiles sleepily as you break the kiss and rolls his head back into a more comfortable position. You rest back into the pillow, snuggling into him happily.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Yeah, really well”, he says, “you?”

“I did, yeah. You felt so calm in my arms tonight, so I feel really refreshed.”

“I slept so well”, he says. His voice is deep and raspy from sleep. “I haven’t slept that well in ages. I kept dreaming about all the stuff I gotta do, but tonight I didn’t dream of anything.”

“Yes? That’s so good to hear. You deserved it, my love.”

“Mhm”, he hums and wiggles his butt so he was closer to you, “thank you for last night.”

You smile and kiss the nape of his neck. His hair feels so soft there. You love the feeling of it against your lips. Yes, you are obsessed enough with him to love having hair on your lips. Oh truly, this man consumes your every fiber.

“I didn’t know I needed it, but I really did. Thank you.”

“I’m just happy that I could help you relax, my love.”

“You did. I was so relaxed and it felt so good. I never experienced something like this before and I loved it so much.”

“Last night was your first time?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh Yoongi, you shouldn’t have told me that. Now I gotta start planning monthly super duper special king treatment spa days to make up for all the lost times.”

He chuckles sleepily, “I won’t stop you.”

“Okay, good”, you say and snicker, “just you wait, I’ll be the best skincarer ever.”

“This is so stupid”, he says in a laugh. The kind of laugh which shakes his shoulders and sounds like little squeaks for air. You love this kind of laugh.

It always makes you laugh and smile with him. You end up smooching his neck as well, doing so happily.

“You gotta admit, it has a ring to it.”

“Yeah, I guess”, he says and ends his giggles with a content sigh. He reaches for your hand and grabs it tightly to guide it to his lips. They feel soft as he kisses your knuckles. Once. Twice. Three and four times. Then a stub with his button nose, “thank you so much for this”, he says.

“Yoongi…”

“I know I didn’t show it last night, but I was really moved by it and I was happy. Yeah. I was really happy. I’m sorry for sucking so much at showing it.”

“Don’t apologise, my love. I knew that you loved it.”

“Good, that’s good. My love”, he says and pulls your arm tighter around him.

You nuzzle into him, tightening your arm around him.

“You’re so warm”, he sighs dreamily.

“And you’re soft”, you tell him, slipping your hand to his tummy to rub it softly. He loves tummy rubs. Only a few seconds of them and he vibrates in soft purrs.

Today is no different. Rhythmic and terribly sleepy, he fills the silence with his happy purrs. You love that this is just part of him. It’s so relaxing to hear him purr.

Only a few minutes later and he takes your hand to stick it under his shirt. You glance at him, he meets your eyes shyly.

“I like that”, he whispers, “don’t judge me.”

“I’m not”, you assure him, nuzzling your cheek against him, “I like it too”, you tell him and begin to caress his tummy.

It’s so incredibly soft. Not only because his skin is silken and perfect, but also because he has just enough tummy that he is soft. He is just grab-able enough that you can squish him. You like that because of how perfect he is to pet that way. And Yoongi likes it because he has the most sensitive tummy and when you rub it, he feels at peace.

This morning however, he also can’t deny the other effects your loving touch has on him. He was way too exhausted to think about sex last night, but he feels rested today. Which means that your touches leave behind just a small tingle of desire in his tummy. Paired with your neck kisses and the incredible softness of your body behind him and Yoongi can’t deny it anymore. This is making him needy.

The concept of being needy was entirely foreign and rather undesirable for Yoongi before he met you, but with you he really enjoys that feeling. Except for the aching boners he gets as a side effect. He doesn’t like them. Not at all.

He tries to ignore it at first. You aren’t making any moves and the current situation is so comfy that he doesn’t want to ruin it by asking for more. But then you begin slipping your fingers under the waistband of his pants every so often and Yoongi is spiralling.

He is aware that you are only doing it because his lower tummy is the softest and you enjoy the feeling of his happy trail under your fingertips. But it’s getting so unbearable to stay calm. You are so close to where he aches and yet you feel too far away.

You are in the midst of running your hand up his tummy when he snaps. He grabs it, making you gasp in surprise because of how passionately he made contact.

You lift your head from his neck, studying his face.

Yoongi acts fast. In one swift movement he has your hand tugged to his cock. He presses you close, making you feel every single inch of his hard length.

“Please”, he gets out in a whisper, grinding his hips into your hand.

“Oh my god, Yoongi. Did this make you hard?” you gasp.

He glances at you, meeting your amused yet very excited expression.

He nods his head and squeezes his cock with your hand in between.

“Please.”

“What do you need?” you ask, knowing very well what he needs.

“Your hand.”

“You’re holding my hand.”

“No”, he is pouting. It makes you smile, because it’s adorable, “I want it there”, he says and rubs his cock against your palm, “like this”, he says breathily, “touching me”, he sighs even breathier and with his fingers squeezing your hand.

Your stomach clenches in arousal. He is so sexy when he is like this. Especially when he explicitly asks to be touched.

“Mhm Yoongi, you’re so hot like this”, you purr and give his cock a gentle squeeze.

He lets out a quiet sigh, rolling his hips into your hand.

“Do you want it like this?”

“Wanna take off my pants.”

“Okay, do it”, you say, giving him space.

He manages to take them off until they sit around one of his ankles and then he gives up. That’s good enough. He needs to be with you again, feel your warmth and experience your touch. You fucking made him obsessed with it and now he can’t get enough of it.

He returns to the previous position, wiggling his butt against you and giving you a boyish look over his shoulder. It makes you giggle and hug him tight.

“Comfy?” you ask after smooching his cheek.

“Yeah, comfy”, he says and looks at your lips, “kiss me.”

He barely manages to finish his request and then he is already gasping as you use a bundle of his hair to tilt his head into a kiss. It is rough and passionate. Yoongi didn’t expect it, which results in his head to get dizzy with the first contact. His tummy also did a really, really intense clench. It was the most amazing feeling ever, even if it resulted in his cock to grow even harder.

You moan into the hot kiss, feeling entirely consumed by him. His exposed butt is pressing into your crotch, his naked legs rub against yours and his hard cock begs for attention. He is so close to you. So utterly and entirely engrossed in your presence and now you can feel him up with all the time in the world. Oh, you are so desperate for him.

It gets too much. You can’t control yourself anymore. Without warning, you take his cock between your fingers and pick up an almost punishing speed.

Yoongi reacts accordingly. He breaks the kiss to squeak in surprise. His body flinches and his legs press together.

“Wait”, he gets out, looking up at you with widened eyes and his lips parting in a gasp.

“You’re so hard, holy fuck”, you whisper seductively as your hand pumps his heavy cock. Fast. Rough. With the intent to make him shake.

“It’s t-too much”, he gets out and gasps, arching his back which results in your contact to break.

Not with you. You pull him back against your chest, sliding your hand to his throat afterwards. Like this, his head is on your upper arm while his throat gains a new necklace in the shape of your hand.

You press your lips to his ear, keeping your voice in this one specific register which will always make him weak.

“Is this too much, mhm? Should I slow down?” you ask as your hand around his cock punishes him quickly. He needs no punishment and yet you can’t stop. He is so fucking perfect when he writhes in forced stimulation.

“Slow, yeah, slow please”, Yoongi begs.

“Okay. I’ll slow down. Like this?” you ask and stop your movements so you could massage him instead. You keep your hand around his tip, massaging him in smooth pulses and gentle squeezes.

Yoongi presses back against you, tilting his head to reveal more of his neck. You squeeze down on his veins, watching hungrily as he rolls his eyes back in bliss. They flutter closed a second later.

“Yes”, he sighs, following it up with a quiet, “holy shit ___, that feels so good.”

“Yeah, you just keep sighing my name. Your voice sounds so pretty when you do.”

“___”, Yoongi sighs, placing his hands on your lower arm to squeeze. His fingers are just a little clammy, his touch is filled with no strength. He wants to simply feel you, make sure that you are real and that he is actually experiencing the pleasure you make him feel.

“That’s it. Keep moaning my name”, you encourage him, moving his head with your hand on his throat. Like this, you can kiss his cheek. It makes you so happy because you can feel how Yoongi actively chases your kisses by tilting his head closer.

“___, ah.”

“My handsome love”, you whisper, “my pretty prince.”

Yoongi likes the praise so much that he moans your name again. Quietly. Like a breathy whisper. He is so far gone in this warm bubble of pleasure, comfort and safety that he can’t do much more than whisper. This is the best morning ever. He is so safe, so warm and so well-touched. Yoongi presses himself closer against you and sighs your name.

You abandon his tip for just a moment because you want to feel him up entirely. You go slow, pressing his cock against his tummy to run your hand up and down the underside of it. His skin is so soft, while his cock is so hard. The contrast of it feeds your obsession for him inch by fucking inch. With every second you touch him, the feelings you have for him get easier to bear. Not much, but at least you don’t feel like suffocating anymore.

Yoongi runs his hands up and down your lower arm, following it with his head turning as he tries to kiss you. His lips are parted, giving you a little sigh.

“Feels good?” you whisper.

“Yeah, feels…good…ah kiss me, p-please.”

“My beautiful Yoongi”, you whisper and kiss him, swallowing the happy sound he makes. He doesn’t really know how to kiss you at first. As if he forgot everything he ever learned because you are touching him so good that his brain turned into mush. You know that this is what is happening right now.

It’s not often that Yoongi asks to be touched. So whenever he does, it means that he wants to be turned into a dumb, pleasure-drunk mess. No wonder he kisses messily at first, you’ve got him ruined. You slide your hand from his throat to rub his chest instead. It rumbles in deep purrs of enjoyment and his lips soon after find your rhythm. Slow, loving tongue kisses. The kind which leaves both of you so, so lightheaded.

Somewhere in the maze of loving kisses, you allow your hand to change course. You wrap your fingers around his length again and pick up a steady pace, jerking him off with the help of all the excitement he leaks. Of course he’s wet. Yoongi’s so easy to pleasure once he trusts you. He gets wet so easily.

The kiss breaks because Yoongi needed to gasp. Your eyes flutter open, meeting his gaze. It is hazy, blurry and filled with devoted submission. He can’t stop staring, even when so close to your face. His eyes keep switching between your left eye down to your lips and up to your right eye before repeating the route again and again and again. He is so obviously in love, which makes you want to never look away.

You haven’t noticed it yet, but you are mimicking his feelings. Your eyes can’t stop racing between his eyes and his lips and if it was physically possible, Yoongi is sure that your pupils would have turned into little hearts by now.

“Closer please”, he whispers and you hug him against you, placing your hand on his waist to keep him close. Yoongi has to moan at the contact, fluttering his eyelids for just a second before he begins drawing little triangles on your face again.

You are enjoying this moment with intense pleasure bubbling in your tummy. Truly, you don’t even need to be touched to feel satisfied. This is making you feel so fulfilled. And it is filling you with this warm desire to make him feel in paradise. You pick up your pace, watching in delight how Yoongi reacts.

He closes his eyes and scrunches his nose up, letting a quiet, “fuck” slip from his lips.

“Yoongi”, you press out, hugging him tighter. You lower your lips to his face, spreading soft kisses on every inch you can reach.

“I can’t hold it for much longer”, he confesses, pressing back into you to get as close as possible. Truly one may think that it wouldn’t be possible to be closer, but somehow Yoongi manages to merge even deeper with you. Warm back against warm chest, his hands holding your arm while you hold him and with your legs tangled into a mess which makes sense to you and him. You are so close in fact that you can actually feel how his body prepares for his high. He is tensing his muscles more and more and gains so much more warmth to his body.

“Did, did you hear me?” he tries with his voice just slightly higher than usual. Not much, but it is clear that he is struggling. He is breathing so heavily and his butt keeps rubbing against you as he squirms.

“I heard you”, you assure him, kissing his cheek, “does it feel good for you or should I change something?”

“More on the tip, please.”

“Okay. Like this?” you say, massaging his velvety cockhead.

“Yeah….” he gets out and rolls his head away to bury it in the pillow, “ah”, his voice is muffled by it, “ah god, ah.”

It goes on for about five strokes and then Yoongi gasps and turns his head again, looking up at you with so obviously faded eyes. He is so far gone.

“Soon.”

“I know, you’re doing so well”, you praise him, caressing the side of his ribs slowly.

“Tell me that you….ahmhm”, he gulps and tries to continue talking, doing so with his eyes glued to your lips, “that you love, ah, love me.”

Your heart flutters.

“I love you, Min Yoongi.”

“I love you too”, he chokes out and scrunches his face up as his high hits him. This is all it took. To watch your lips form his favourite words paired with your closeness and skilled touch, is all it took. He reaches up and pulls you close with his trembling hands gripping whatever part of your head they could reach. Your nose collides with his cheek and soon you feel his lips attempting to kiss, but failing miserably. You’ve got him climaxing so hard that it is impossible for him to do much more than keen quietly and fight for air.

“Good boy, you’re doing so well”, you talk him through it with loving whispers and little pecks on his pouty lips. And Yoongi swears his entire world lights up because of it.

He comes down way too soon for your taste, now merely shivering in your arms while his cock softens in your hand rapidly fast.

“Princess”, he gets out, hooking his arms behind your head to pull you into a kiss. It is sloppy and filled with gratitude. You love it so much, but you want so much more. You break the kiss, making him beg for more. You have to ignore him, even if you want to keep kissing him. He isn’t done yet. One wasn’t enough.

You roll him to his back and claim the emptiness between his legs. They are still wobbly from the intense orgasm you gave him, making it easy for you to pick them up and slide off his pants completely. You throw them to the side and lean down, picking up his softened cock to put him into your mouth.

Yoongi’s hips shoot up, his legs close around you and a surprised mewl rolls off his lips.

“What are you doing?” he keens, placing his hands on your head to tug you away.

You hum around him, licking and sucking off the sweet tasting cum coating his cock. The vibrations feel intense around his length, forcing his hips to lift again.

Oh how heavily he is breathing, how much he squirms.

“Please”, he gets out and mewls, “please, sensitive, please”, he pleads, trying to tug you off of him, which only ends in you taking his hands and pinning them into the sheets besides his hips. You put your weight on them, making it impossible for him to flee (one has to remember that he could easily lift a truck if he wanted to, he could very well flee but he doesn’t want to).

“Please, sensitive. Hurts, please”, he begs, coughing out a squeaky moan as his soft, little dick gets sucked clean by your hungry mouth. He is still so delirious from his first high and being brought over the edge in such an intimate, safe way and now he has you forcing his cock to remember what pleasure feels like. Yoongi was so ready to fall into the afterglow, but you are keeping him burning. It feels hot, fiery and torturous.

“Sensitive”, he gets out, wiggling his hands even if you pin them down with your fingers squeezing around his wrists, “holy shit, why do you wanna torture me?” he keens, kicking the sheets with weak legs.

You are high. You seriously are. This is the best feeling ever and he tastes so good that you wish to taste nothing but him from now on. His soft cock feels so good in your mouth. So fragile and sensitive and made to be ruined by you. He fits so perfectly in your mouth like this. So well in fact that he can fill you out comfortably while your tongue explores the softness of his balls.

“Oh god, please”, he is begging, squirming away and fighting your grip as best as his shaky arms allow him to. And despite all of that, he is starting to grow hard again. Rapidly if one may add. So quickly in fact, that after a few hungry flicks of your tongue against his balls, he is filling out your mouth so well that you can’t reach them anymore. You cup them in your right hand instead, using your left hand to caress his tensing tummy. It is so sticky and wet from his first orgasm. His hands reach for your head instantly, making you chuckle because it was so predictable.

“Nuh-uh”, you hum around his cock, pinning his hands into the sheets. He grabs your hands, squeezes them as tightly as possible and then lets out a high-pitched mewl.

“Please, this is too much”, he gets out, arching his back, “fuck, please.”

You moan around him, grinding your tongue against his cock as you bob your head up and down. He is almost completely hard again. Of course he is, because he loves it. You know your boyfriend. He might whine, but he loves being overstimulated.

You must admit that you never did it with your mouth before, at least not like this, but there is always a first for everything. After all, you love trying out new things with him.

Now swollen and hard in your mouth, it is difficult to fit him down your throat entirely. Especially in this position. You concentrate your attention on his first two inches. They are the most sensitive after all and you love having them in your mouth.

“A-ah”, Yoongi lets out, dropping your hands to instead twist the sheets. His hips are lifting off the mattress again, but this time around it wasn’t from overstimulation but pleasure. You got him hooked again. Even if his legs close around you and you have to push them apart.

“Mhm”, you hum and giggle, looking up at him with sparkly eyes and his cockhead on your tongue.

He is looking at you with his lids heavy and his cheeks flushed. His hair is a total mess, sticking to parts of his face.

“You’re hard again”, you say and lick him hungrily.

“It’s, it’s ‘cause you f-forced me to, to get hard”, he is stuttering, barely getting the words out.

“I’m sorry, kitten. You’re so yummy that I can’t help myself”, you rasp and take him back inside, granting him one more second of eye contact before the position naturally breaks it. You close your eyes, sucking his tip and swirling your tongue as you move your head up and down slowly. He should really bask in those sensations.

“Fuck”, he gets out and moans shakily, dropping his head back in the pillow, “what did I do to deserve this?” he whispers and makes yet another sound of pleasure, sounding so good doing it that you have to look at him for a moment. You jerk off his cock as you do, pressing the thumb of your right hand down between his balls to give him just a small hint of pleasurable pain.

“Ngng”, Yoongi lets out, arching his back, “ah, a-ah, hah. Ah.”

“You deserve this because you’re my beloved, pretty kitten”, you tell him, increasing the pressure.

“Ah. Ah, ah hah, ah, a-ah”, Yoongi can’t stop making noises. What a total difference from the once reserved and quiet reactions he gave you during the handjob. You are soaking up those reactions like a woman starved.

“And because you’re my pretty kitten, you deserve to cum over and over again. Are we clear?”

“Thank you”, he mewls, because he doesn’t know what else to say. He feels so good. All he wants to do is thank you for making him feel that way.

Your heart flutters. He is adorable. And he looks so wet. His pink, velvety cockhead is covered in it. You have to taste him again.

You lower yourself back to his cock with the intention of not lifting yourself again until you have him creaming your mouth.

“Thank you…ah”, Yoongi moans, dropping his back in the sheets as his hands naturally reach for you again. Both of them. It’s so cute that he gets so touchy when he is being sucked off. He holds your head gently, but never once uses the grip to guide you. No, he merely wants to hold you because sometimes he doesn’t believe that the pleasure you make him feel is real and he has to make sure that it is.

Your mouth is so warm and soft, your tongue is even softer and so, so wet and your fingers know exactly where to squeeze and touch. You have also grown so confident in your skills.

Bear in mind, Yoongi always thought that your head game was amazing, but he can really tell that you are confident in it these days. Back when you started out, you only really dared to go further than his first two inches when you were drunk, but these days it seems to happen naturally. One minute, he has your tender lips kissing and sucking his cockhead and the next he is hitting the back of your throat while a deep moan vibrates in your chest. You don’t need to be drunk anymore to deepthroat him, it happens naturally.

And Yoongi hasn’t decided yet if he hates it because of how utterly ruined it leaves him or if he loves it because of how entirely blissed out it makes him feel. Maybe a little bit of both.

“Oh god, princess”, he moans, closing his legs again as hot pleasure shoots through them.

You chuckle around him before slipping off. You push his legs apart again, looking up at him with sparkling eyes.

“Stop closing your legs”, you tell him, following it up with your lips nibbling at his tip slowly. Every now and then you dart out your tongue, giving him a glimpse of warm, wet heaven.

“Sensitive, I can’t help it”, he says, eliciting a happy giggle from you.

“You always are”, you are teasing, “what’s with you?”

“It’s ‘cause you feel good”, he says and thrusts his hips, “more please.”

“Mhm ‘kay, but only if you don’t close your legs again”, you say, taking him back inside.

Yoongi rests his head back in the pillow, throwing his arm over his eyes as a breathy laugh slips past his lips.

“You feel so good”, he gets out and moans with a smile on his face, “fuck.”

He drops his legs on the mattress and wiggles his toes, meeting your warmth with a soft roll of his hips.

“Yeah, that definitely tops everything”, he whispers, placing his right hand on the back of your head to caress it.

You love how warm his touch feels and how gentle his thumb runs over your head. It makes you want to perform even better for him, go deeper and make him feel a thousand times more ruined. You slide your hand to his balls and begin massaging them as your mouth slowly but surely sinks down on his length.

“Yes, god”, he gets out, rubbing his legs against your body, “fuck baby, I’m sensitive.”

“Mhm”, you purr around him, which doesn’t help him at all. He just ends up twitching in your mouth while his legs rub against you in a desperate squirm.

“You don’t give a shit, do you?”

You shake your head, wiggling his cock down your throat that way. You hum when he is oh so deep inside you, sending a jolt through his legs. His fingers twitch on your head, trying their hardest not to push you down further.

“Fuck, you’re torturing me”, he gets out and laughs, arching his back.

You love when he is like this. When he feels so good and safe with you that he laughs during sex. To think about how he started off and how it’s going these days. You love this development, having to moan around him as your left hand slides under his shirt. You walk your fingers up his tummy and ribs, stretching them out on his pecs so you can rub his nipple.

His laughter stops, a loud gasp for air replaces them. He chases your touch, sliding his arm from his eyes to instead hold your hand through his shirt. He squeezes it gently, rubbing his legs against you needily.

“Fuck.”

There was no ounce of amusement or laughter in this word. Just desperate pleasure and the disbelief that something so amazing is actually happening to him.

“Yeah, god…that’s….fuck, princess.”

Maybe you like this kind of voice just a little more. Don’t misunderstand, you love when he laughs during sex. But when your touch hits just right that he feels so good that he can’t even find it in himself to laugh anymore to instead moan, definitely feels extra special. He spills his pleasure on your tongue with a throb of his cock. His taste is amazing.

You glide off of him until you can suck on his tip. Your lips fit so nicely around it. Like his cock was made to be sucked by you. He rewards your eagerness with new droplets of his sweetness. Truly, he tastes so good. You hum around him, sucking harder.

“___”, he moans, following it up with a roll of his hips, “___ baby…love, this is…fuck.”

You love that he just can’t stay still. He is an expert in lounging. Sometimes when you and he cuddle, you have to check on him because of how still he can get. And now he just can’t stop squirming and touching and rubbing himself against you. It’s so incredibly adorable to witness.

You slurp up the saliva which has began running down his length and swallow it hungrily. There is just a little bit of his taste in it. Not enough for your liking and so you take his cock between your fingers and apply pressure on his swollen vein. You know just how to squeeze and rub that he leaks onto your tongue.

Sweet like honey. There must be something magical in his taste because you get so needy for it that it gets hard to breathe.

You slip your lips off of him, staring at his tip. It is deep red in colour, courtesy of you sucking his soul out of his cock. Your fingers glide to it and begin squeezing just right to milk him of his translucent goodness.

“Fuck, jesus, you gotta- hrng”, he gets out and lets out a deep growl, throwing his head back as best as the position allows him to, “honey, fuck.”

“You’re so wet for me”, you taunt and squeeze more out of him. You love how his cock looks when he leaks for you. So pretty and wet. How wonderful.

And while he growls and gasps, you let out a chuckle. It is heavy in crazed pleasure.

“You’re such a wet kitten”, you rasp and finally connect your tongue with his cock. You grind the flat of it over his slickened tip, ending it with a throaty moan and a flick of your tongue. You flutter your eyes at him, even if he isn’t looking, “you’re my fucking addiction”, you lull and sink him into your mouth as far as you can take him.

Only once he is deep as you can go, you begin moving. Fast and harsh. You drool all over him, spill tears instantly and find it just a little harder to breathe but it’s so fucking worth it.

Yoongi moans and he moans loudly. So fucking loudly. His hips roll off the mattress, his hands reach for his own thighs and squeeze hard to prevent them from falling closed.

“Holy shit, holy fuck. Princess love. Fuck. Ah! Aha baby ah.”

Your left hand is working hard on keeping his nipples as sensitive as possible while your right hand holds his throbbing cock in place. If you wouldn’t, it would just be way too hard to keep the rhythm going.

“You have to stop or, or else I’ll- ah”, Yoongi throws his head back, arching off the mattress, “I’ll cum down your throat, please stop.”

He is so polite. Even now when you are so clearly derailed in pleasure, he is trying to warn you. He is such a gentleman. Oh how you need this man to literally pump your stomach full of cum. Yeah, you are really derailed.

You pinch his right nipple, keeping it between your fingers to massage it harshly. The pleasure swirls down his body and goes straight to his cock.

“Please I have to cum, I don’t- ah”, Yoongi shudders and arches his back, “can I cum in your mouth?”

The switch up is so fucking hot. To have him go from begging you for a break to begging you for the chance to climax down your throat, it’s so hot.

You hum around him, nodding your head.

“Really? Please. Ah- fuck, ___ please.”

You moan and go deeper, nodding your head with more vigour.

“Thank you”, Yoongi croaks and drops into the sheets. A second later, you feel his seed shoot down your throat and his cock throb in your mouth, “holy fuck yes.”

You wanted to swallow everything, but didn’t take into account just how hard your boyfriend cums. It ends up spilling out of your mouth and you working quickly to try and slurp all of it up. You love every second of it, feasting on his taste with a pounding head.

Yoongi pulls you off of his cock once overstimulation sets on.

“No more. Serious”, he chokes out, following it up with a breathless, “you’re fucking insane. What the fuck.”

You are so dizzy, nuzzling your nose into his soft inner thigh.

“Fuck Yoongi, you taste amazing”, you lull in a raspy voice. Your throat hurts just a little from getting it creamed so good.

“I’m dizzy”, he confesses, rolling his head to the side, “princess…”

You kiss your way up his body, staying at his neck to cover it in gentle love bites. His taste still lingers on your tongue, making you dizzy. Yoongi purrs and rolls his head to the side, nudging your temple with his nose. A kiss follows.

“This was amazing”, he lulls, smiling against your skin, “you’re the best, my love.”

“Yeah?” you giggle, lying down beside him with your leg draped over his waist and his arm under you. He closes it around you, running his hand up and down your back. You can look at each other so well like this.

“Mhm, yeah”, he says, staring at your lips. He reaches up and swipes his thumb over your lower lip, “you got a little something there”, he says.

“Oh? Oops. Thank you”, you say.

“Mhm”, he hums and guides his thumb to his mouth to lick it clean.

“Hot”, you mumble.

Yoongi lifts his brows at you playfully and slips his thumb free with a bop of his lips.

“It’s the least I can do”, he says, giving you a lopsided smirk. He is so good at doing them.

You nudge his chest, letting out a very ungraceful snort. Yoongi thinks it’s the most beautiful sound you ever made, soaking it up happily.

“You’re dumb.”

“Why?” he asks in a chuckle.

“Because you’re being flirty, you know exactly what this does to me.”

“What? You gonna suck my cock again?” he jokes, making you snort again.

“God”, you fluster, dropping your head in the crook of his neck. You rub yourself against him like a cuddly cat, “Yoongi”, you giggle.

He chuckles deeply, sliding his hand to your lower back so he can press you closer to him. You feel so warm between your legs. He loves the feeling of it against his naked thigh.

“You know what we should do today?” he asks.

“Wait. I wanna guess.”

“Do it.”

“You’re gonna say cook together, eventhough I literally told your stubborn butt last night that you don’t gotta cook for me all the time.”

He laughs. Wholeheartedly and loudly. You join him, lifting your head so you can look at his happy expression. He laughs with his mouth open and his eyes squeezed shut. You love this kind of laugh on him.

“I’m right, aren’t I?” you stress, nudging his moving chest. It rumbles in his laughter.

“Yeah”, he says, nodding his head, “fuck”, he ends his laughter with a deep chuckle and a shake of his head, “why do you know me so well?”

“Because being loved means being known and I love you, which means I know you”, you say, grinning when he rolls his eyes at you.

“You’re so cheesy”, he says.

“And you love it, so stop rolling those eyes at me.”

He smiles, “sorry, you’re right”, he says and runs the back of his hand down your cheek, “my love”, he whispers and smiles, cupping your cheek.

You smile, leaning into his palm, “you’re my love too.”

He studies your face with lovedrunk eyes. A soft smile curls his lips.

“Do you want me to return the favour?” he asks.

“Mhm later, as a little break between work, yeah? I’m so hungry you have no idea.”

“I just fed you.”

You laugh. He laughs too.

“I hate you for making me laugh.”

“You loved it.”

“Yeah sadly”, you say and study his face. Especially his pretty lips, “okay actually. Can you give me one orgasm?”

He smirks. Fuck, he is so hot doing that. His eyes lower playfully.

“Of course I can, princess. Let me take care of you”, he says, picking you up to fix your positions.

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bts-hyperfixation · 7 months ago

Note

Favourite aftercare

This is separated into things he likes to give./vs receive

Namjoon: Likes to leave the scene, moving to a separate area with snacks and water and soft clean things. Spends some time just observing his partner to monitor their demeanor and try to assess what they need for aftercare then he is happy to attend to any needs they have like cuddling or affirmations. Will want to debrief especially if something new was tried./He likes to be reassured after, wants his partner to give him a play by play so he can talk through his emotions. He is jut really big on communication for both receiving and giving aftercare, it's a known fact he shuts down when his feelings dip and while sometimes its an effort to get him to talk through it always makes him better.

Seokjin: Big cuddle man, but also likes a clean space. If its a preplanned session he probably has towels and such on hand ready to layover any soiled sheets because he is too sleepy after to do more than move a towel on top but he tries his best. He also litter his partners with kisses./ Wants to be adored, worshipped if you're willing. Not as fussed about the mess if he is subbing but does appreciate help getting clean, in the shower, or just with wipes if his partner is as sleepy as him.

Yoongi: likes to run a nice bath and then sit with his partner and talk while they are soaking, not necessarily a debrief, just asking about their day and other mundane things./Prefers to just switch on TV and chill, he still likes to perform acts of service after he has finished being sub with reassurance of how well he takes care of his partner. Prefers to make an after sex snack himself to share with his partner.

Hoseok: Likes to give massages to ensure there are no tight muscles following sessions, even vanilla sessions, it reassures him to check his partners entire body and maybe worship it in the process./ He just likes to watch TV, maybe have a sweet but he is pretty easy going, a quick bit of quality time and he is set.

Jimin: Busy body. Worries too much about subgroup potential and insists on trying all forms of aftercare almost every time until his partner insists on a rhythm back. You have to watch him for dom drop if anything and just let him do what he needs as long as you feel safe./ Baby him. He is the hyung of the maknae line and nobody babies him enough, he needs to be properly cared for and ensured love in all forms possible

Taehyung: Kinda lazy with his aftercare, he means well but he is sleepy, so he is nuzzling in and worrying about the mess later. lots of skin contact, possible cockwarming because he says he enjoys the feeling but also maybe isn't ready to deal with the mess that comes with pulling out./ Likes others to do all the cleaning for him and provide him with affirming words as they clean, telling him even though he can be so lazy that they love him and dote on him and that he should just sleep while he worries about caring for them.

Jungkook: Won't happen immediately but he will get peckish and then goes overboard on cooking, maybe like 30 minutes after a session. With the amount he is fucking and cooking, he and his partner are spending a lot of dates in the gym, or at least he is... he isn't overly fussed about the fact he is making his partner gain weight, he thinks it's cute that he can take care of someone so well they put on a couple pounds (as long as they are healthy)./ Love him, cuddle him, tell him he is the best boy in the world and that he did such a good job that your not sure how you ever got off with out him

#bts fic #bts smut #kpop smut #kpop fic #namjoon smut #jungkook smut #seokjin smut #yoongi smut #bts imagines #hoseok smut #jimin smut #taehyung smut

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bangtanfanficarchive · 7 months ago

Note

"how they'd take the virginity of their s/o when she's a virgin."

gosh i love your writing 💘

yes, i sure can! thank you for your service to my ask box *salutes*

NSFW BELOW THE CUT MINORS DNI

Jin

he just wants to keep it light. no stress. words of affirmation. "you're so perfect. your body is perfect." lots of giggles. sweet kisses. lots of foreplay. like...jesus, the man could spend hours with his head between your legs if you'd let him. your pleasure is of the utmost importance to him. just wants to make sure that you have an enjoyable and comfortable first time.

Namjoon

acts far too cool for school when you tell him this will be your first time. inside, though, bro is freaking the fuck out. his brain is going into overdrive trying to think of ways to make sure that you're comfortable and cared for while also making it not seem like a big deal...even though it is a big deal and...frankly, you end up having to comfort him. but the slow, gentle sex that culminates in your connected, tandem orgasms is well worth it, you both agree. once he gets over the initial first time stress, he just can't get enough of you. and you'll let him take whatever he wants.

Yoongi

lets you take the lead. he wants you on top, so that you can learn how to take your pleasure in whatever way you want. and he gets the perfect view of all of your expressions while you do just that.

Taehyung

you had told him weeks before, when things began getting serious. he hadn't forced you at any point. when it was clear that the time was upon him, though, he was dead set on making it special. i'm talking flower pedals, candles - the whole nine. it's sexy and sweet and thoughtful in a way that you're sure to not forget any time soon. he's methodical with his prep of your body, giving you at least two orgasms from a combination of his fingers and tongue before he ever considers breaching you. and when he finally does, he showers you with words or praise, kissing and sucking at your skin until you feel like you might suffocate with him.

Jungkook

it's just...so unbelievably comfortable. it's not as though he's dismissive about your virginity, when you tell him that it's your first time. he's careful with you, reverent, focused. but he doesn't treat you like glass. he's beyond eager to show you all of the ways that he wants to pleasure your body. once he starts, you better believe you're in it for the long haul. it's going to be nearly impossible to get him to stop.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts imagine #bts reaction #bts smut #bts x reader

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untaemedqueen · 11 months ago

Text

At Your Service

Escort!Jeongguk x CEO!Reader

Genre: Strangers to Lovers!AU, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Chapter 22.

Series Warnings (Will Be Updated): Angst, Fluff, Cold Heartedness, Emotional Trauma, Healing, Smut, Dark Humor

The drive over to your job was incredibly silent, just a few clearing of throats and the sound of quiet opera bled through the car like some type of disease.

You want to tell Guk, 'I can take care of you, don't go through all of this if you're not happy with it,' but he'd be upset to hear you say such a thing.

You've already told him countless times to stay home but he's so incredibly adamant about it that you feel like a broken record.

Every inch closer your car made toward the job, made Guk's hands clench harder and harder.

It's like every emotion he had building up inside of him for Namjoon is suddenly going to come pouring out in a display of strength.

"We can have lunch together later," you offer, pulling into the building's garage.

"I thought that was a given," your fiance breathes, tilting his head to look at you.

You simply tilt your head and nod. "Y-Yeah, I guess."

You're not good at this whole reassurance thing. You never even reassured yourself over the years.

Jeongguk fixes his tie and when you park the car and shut the engine off, he can see now just how fast and wild his knee is bouncing.

You noticed this throughout the ride over too but you haven't mentioned it for fear of making him more nervous.

"Alrighty, c'mon," you coo, opening your door and grabbing your purse.

Taking a deep breath, your fiance steps out of the car as well. He uses the blacked out window of the car beside yours to slick back the sides of his hair before turning to you.

"Ready?" you smile, fixing your dress.

"Ready as I'll ever be," he replies, rounding the car and curling an arm around your waist.

He doesn't wanna be that guy that constantly bitches about stuff. He can't be that guy. There really is nothing to complain about in his life right now and if he did then that would just be selfish.

Stepping onto the elevator, you press the button for the top floor. You step in front of him, fixing his tie in silence. The father of your child simply sighs, kissing your forehead sweetly.

As the doors finally go to close, an arm juts out, catching the sliding doors and forcing them to open again. When you turn around to see who it is, you find yourself smiling.

"Morning, Joon," you announce.

"Hey, gorgeous," he breathes, finally looking up from his phone to see Guk towering behind you with widening eyes.

You clear your throat awkwardly, you're used to those words after all these years. You're used to the half assed flirting attempts but Jeongguk Jeon is not.

Namjoon scratches the back of his neck, giving Guk a polite smile as the doors finally slam shut.

You can practically feel heat radiating off of your fiance's body behind you and he curls his arm around your stomach, planting his hand on your belly.

Oh, the silence in the elevator is creepy.

The simple muzak that flits over the speakers does not bring you comforting solace like it usually does. Instead, it makes your heart beat harder, it makes your blood pound faster through your veins as you feel Jeongguk clench harder onto you.

You tilt your head to look up at him but it's the wrong choice. His eyes are narrowed and animalistic in the blonde man's direction.

When he opens his mouth to speak, Joon speaks first.

"Excited for your first day of work, Guk?" the blonde man inquires, pulling out a folder and skimming through it, "It's like mommy and me, huh? Finally getting out into the big world."

Oh, no.

Namjoon feels hurt.

You've seen this only once before, when Jack Sypruse got the contract for one of the main vineyards that produce grapes for your wines over him. When this man is hurt, his tongue is like a silver dagger. He's ready and willing to say anything and everything to make himself feel better.

But Jeongguk isn't a professional, he's not about to take shit. Especially when he built himself up all morning with a ball of hatred and uneasiness in his heart.

"Watch your fucking mouth," Guk warns, gently guiding you behind his body.

His frame is muscled and large before you, shielding you from anything you might end up seeing.

"You should be grateful. You wouldn't be here in this elevator if it wasn't for me," Joon announces, slamming the folder shut.

Guk gives a short laugh, one devoid of any real humor. "Grateful, huh? Maybe you're just bitter."

Your eyes dart over to the LED pad which continuously rises in number as you head to the top floor.

You pray for no scuffle in the elevator, you pray for no blood that your employees will see.

"Bitter?!" Namjoon guffaws, "Bitter about what?!"

"Oh, I don't know. Maybe that I put my baby inside the woman you've been in love with for y-"

"Watch your mouth!" Joon hollers, taking a step forward.

"Make me, buddy," Guk whispers, stepping up as well.

You whine uncomfortably, rocking from one foot to the other as the counter finally stops.

The elevator dings and you turn your head sharply to your fiance.

"Wow, we're at work!" you cheer, grabbing Guk's wrist.

When the doors spring open, you swallow thickly and when you pull him there's no response.

Wedging your foot in the door, you turn back to see their stare off.

"We're at work," you remind them in a gentle song like whisper through your teeth.

"I am grateful you brought me back to her. But don't say it like you gave up something. She was never yours to have. If she was, she would have taken any of your advances over the last seven years. But she didn't. So…" your fiance shrugs, pulling his wrist away from you just to intertwine your fingers, "Don't be a prick, Namjoon. It doesn't suit you."

You open your mouth to speak but the blonde man simply chuckles bitterly. "You don't know me well enough to know what suits me, escort."

"Gukkie, please," you beg softly, looking up at him with pleading, doe-like eyes.

He glances at you quickly before sighing. "C'mon, sweetheart."

Your fiance wraps his arm around your shoulders, pulling you out of the elevator with him leaving Namjoon alone.

"He's a fucking asshole," Guk mumbles, shaking his head.

"Joon is just being sensitive," you offer, allowing your employees to step out of your way.

You do realize how they look at you these days. You're showing now, your belly rounding out at the now five month mark. It's surely a shock to them, the dead inside, snappy boss has suddenly become this calm, pregnant woman. But love changes people all the time.

"I don't give a fuck what he's being, I will knock him th-" Guk stops himself when he sees your big eyes, alerting him of how loud he's becoming.

You simply sigh, pushing the glass door to your office open.

"I'm not working with him," Guk announces as he pushes the door closed.

Setting your purse down on your desk, you gingerly slide your satin gloves off your arms. Your eyes slowly rise to meet his and you bite your bottom lip already knowing how miserable he feels.

Your fiance barrels towards the sitting chairs, throwing himself down in one with a huff.

"I told you not to come to work," you sigh, sitting down in your own chair.

Guk looks up from the floor, watching how you cup your belly as you turn on your computer.

He's being a little bitch right now. He can't be stressing out the mother of his child like this… He knows better.

"I'll go apologize," he whispers, combing his fingers through his hair.

Your eyes soften further at the inner battle you can see the father of your child going through right now.

He's prideful and you should not be the person that takes that away from him.

"You'll be under my guidance today then," you breathe, folding your arms.

"You have a lot on your plate, baby. I'm sorry," Guk apologizes, running his hands over the knees of his suit pants.

"I would rather you be content during your day than being upset. Besides, Joon was rude for no reason," you reason, leaning back in your chair.

"I'm your personal assistant, so you just tell me what to do and I'm on it!" your fiance beams, turning his head to the doors of your office when they open.

Joon enters with a stack of folders in hand and a sour look on his face. He ignores the father of your child all together, striding right towards your desk without a word.

"Here's last week's sales reports and the quota for next month that has to be met before the fourth quarter," the blonde man breathes, placing the files on your desk.

"Thank you Joonie," you whisper, not looking away from your computer screen.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Jeongguk roll his eyes in turn and you try your hardest to not cringe.

"Do you want me to make you some tea?" Joon inquires, sitting on the edge of your desk.

"Oh no, I'm oka-"

"I'm her assistant, I'll make it. Just tell me where, baby girl," your fiance cuts you off.

Here we go. Another pissing contest.

"Do you even know how she takes her tea?" Joon guffaws, finally turning to look at your man.

Guk smiles then, a fierce, bitter smile curls over his lips and you narrow your eyes at your screen hoping that you fade into the background between the both of them. "Depends on what tea. If it's black tea then with milk and sugar. If it's green tea then with sugar and lemon. If it's chamomile then just milk. I could go on. I'm going to marry this woman, unlike you, I should know how she takes her drinks."

"I should have never bought you that fucking drin-"

"What'd you think would happen if you didn't? You'd become this grand hero that marries my woman and adopts my fucking kid as your own? Man up, dude. You acting pissy with me is not going to fucking help you."

"Y/N! Are you gonna let him talk to me like this?!" Namjoon gasps, turning to you with wide eyes.

"Guk, the kitchen is to your left down the hallway. Five doors down," you simply say, grabbing the top folder off the pile.

"What kind of tea do you want, sweetheart?" Jeongguk asks, standing up.

"Black tea, please. Dec-"

"Decaffeinated. I'm on it, baby," he says, giving you a wink and taking his leave.

When the glass door finally swings shut, you slam the folder closed with a huff. Your eyes shoot straight up to the blonde man's and you narrow them sharply. "Why are you acting like an asshole, Namjoon Kim?!"

"Me?! I'm acting like an asshole?! Are you kidding me?!" he grinds out through his teeth, standing up tall.

"You have been picking on him since the second you stepped foot in that elevator! He hasn't done anything wrong and you're treating him like some kind of disease or something! Stop it!" you counter, folding your arms.

"Oh my God, Y/N, please. I can see how annoyed he was to even be here as soon as I saw you both," Joon shakes his head.

"He was already gearing himself to get shit on. Which I didn't think would happen but here we are! You need to come to terms with what's going on because it seems like you're going to be relentless with him until you do so," you simply state, standing up and turning to the large windows of your office.

"What?! I have come to terms with it! It's his shitty attitude that's causing me to act like this!"

This is not healthy. You can hear the pain and anger in his voice, almost as if it's making all of his organs tremble. He's not ready to be here. You never loved someone for years with no solution. You've never had the big heart like Joon does.

You can't imagine his pain and you can't imagine how painful it must be for him to see this.

"Go home," you breathe, looking down at the city below you.

"What?" Joon hisses, sticking his neck out to hear you.

"Go work from home for a while. I can't deal with this stress right now," you repeat, turning to look at him.

"Y/N… Don't be like that--"

"This pregnancy is really not that easy for me and you and Guk fighting is stressing me out. Please, for me, just go work from home until you feel better about the situation," you ask politely, putting your hand to your heart.

"You have got to be kidding me," the blonde man guffaws, tugging at the neck of his tie.

"You have been a trusted person in my life for quite a long time but now I think you need some time to work things out on your own. It might not be immediate but--"

"I'm the fucking Vice President! I need to be here!"

"Then I will go home and stay at home with Guk still as my assistant. Take your pick. It's no skin off my ass," you retort, feeling your pregnancy hormones now swirling a sick, angry ball within the pit of your stomach.

He stays silent for a while, taking off his glasses to clean them diligently.

The air in the room is now chilly, causing goosebumps to adorn your skin entirely.

Tucking his bottom lip between his teeth, he gives an almost bitter smirk as he shakes his head. "It hurts me."

As simple and bland as his words are, you know exactly what he means.

All of this, every single thing since you've gotten with Jeongguk has hurt him. Even needing him and holding onto him when you were apart with the father of your child hurt.

"I know. And I'm sorry you feel that way," you apologize, turning back to the window.

"I…I love you," he whispers softly, folding his arms.

You sigh softly, shutting your eyes at how sorrowful his words sound. You don't know how to reply. Do you apologize for his love? Do you simply shrug off his emotions and how you feel?

"I know you don't feel the same way. And I fucking know that I am not the guy for you. But it still hurts. You weren't mine to have, you never have been but I always felt that way," Namjoon breathes, shaking his head.

Then there's silence again.

You finally go to speak as he does.

"Joo-"

"I'm gonna take a vacation and go to Maui. Will you approve that for me? I have three months of vacation. I'm gonna go to Hawaii for a month and heal myself," he blurts out, looking at you with hopeful eyes.

You run your hands over your face, turning around to him. Striding over to your desk, you gingerly sit down.

"Yes, I'll approve it," you say finitely, grabbing your folders.

"I'll fill out the form at home," he breathes, rounding the desk to hug you.

When you look up at him the glass door to your office opens with your fiance holding a porcelain teacup.

"You good, baby?" Guk inquires, crossing the long floor to meet your desk.

"Yes," you promise, giving Joon a small smile.

He returns it, even though it's pained and lost, without another word he leaves and you close your eyes once more.

"What just happened?" Guk inquires, sitting back down on the opposite side of your desk.

"Something that was going to happen regardless of whether I wanted it to or not," you mumble, opening up one of the folders at random.

"What?" the father of your child asks confused, crossing his legs.

"Joon is taking a vacation," you announce, not looking up from the countless words and numbers on the page before you.

"Why?" Jeongguk breathes, tilting his head to look out the glass doors.

"Because he needs to work out his feelings. Away from work and away from you. He needs to come back and be professional. Just like you will have to be now that he's gone," you voice throughout your large office.

When you lift your head to look at him, his handsome smile and the tilt of his head sends shivers down your spine.

"Yes, ma'am. I will be as diligent as ever," Jeongguk promises.

As you go to pick up your teacup, you watch as Namjoon slings on his long, woolen peacoat. He steps into the elevator and your eyes meet as he lifts his head. Bringing the teacup up to your lips, you nod your head to him and he does the same with an emotionless face.

It'll take time, but you'll get there. All the pieces will fall into place.

#bts #jeongguk #jeon jeongguk #at your service #ays #jeongguk x reader #jeongguk smut

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jooheonspinky · 7 months ago

Text

Trivia: Love

Characters: Namjoon x Female Reader

Genre: idol!au, angst, smut

Synopses: A few years ago, Y/N met Namjoon while at a movie theatre. Hitting it off, they come to an agreement wherein Y/N signs a contract that entails helping Namjoon “de-stress” whenever he is in the US, even having Y/N travel to several of BTS’ stops when they are on tour. But then the pandemic hit, and it has now been almost two years since they have seen each other in person. With BTS coming to LA for several concerts and interviews, will they be able to get back to how things were before, or have the two changed too much in that time apart?

Warnings: set during the COVID pandemic, mentions of mask-wearing and COVID tests, fingering, unprotected sex (both get STI tested before visits, as per contract. Not specified in story, but Y/N takes birth control).

A/N: This story is inspired by a dream I had on August 26, 2018. You can find the dream here on my Kpop Dream Logs. It took me several years to flesh out and finish this story and I'm really excited to finally get this put out there. I really hope you enjoy it. Please feel free to like, reblog, and comment. I really appreciate you taking time out of your day to read my work.

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

Part 1

Word Count: 4.5K

November 27, 2021

“Hi,” I offer the middle-aged woman behind the front desk as polite a smile as I can convey through my eyes. Trying to be as casual yet discreet as possible, I lower my voice and lean in as I state, “The room for Mr. Moonchild, please.”

The woman’s eyes narrow for just a millisecond before the friendly customer service expression settles back in place. Well, as far as I could tell, due to the navy blue face mask emblazoned with the hotel's logo on the right side covering half of her face.

“Name, please?” she probes, her tone neutral.

“Nabi Bomnal,” I provide the code name he had given me so long ago, my voice slightly muffled with my black medical-style face mask covering the lower half of my face. I resist the urge to tap my fingernails on the shiny granite top of the desk separating us, nervous anxiousness threatening to buckle my knees.

She hums her acknowledgment, and I can feel her eyes judging me as they flick from her computer screen and back to my face a few times as she types. I hold back saying, “We’re just friends,” as a way to justify why I’m here so she can stop searing my soul with her disapproving looks. She knows why I’m here. Yes, this woman knows exactly why I’m here.

“Ok. You are all set, Miss Bomnal.” Her eyes beam, and she seems way too cheerful. “I’ve already paged Mr. Choi. He will meet you at the elevators and direct you to the requested room.”

“Thanks,” I mumble, throwing her an awkward smile, though I know she can’t see it.

I hope the gesture comes off more amicably through my eyes than it feels before hurrying off to the elevator lobby. This whole interaction would not have bothered me in the past. These were the exact steps I took two to three times a year, and I had been okay with it, ignoring the knowing looks given to me by hotel staff. However, this time, I find myself nervous and feeling ill at ease, my hands clammy as one tugs a suitcase down the marble flooring and the other hangs at my side, fist clenching and unclenching as I walk. It almost feels as if it is my first time all over again.

The elevator doors open just as I approach them, and a large, muscular man fills the space inside. He’s in all black from head to toe. His tucked-in T-shirt, whose sleeves hug his biceps a bit too tightly, also clings to his chest and torso muscles. My eyes continue down to a tapered waist, the shirt disappearing into his jeans. Black sneakers complete his outfit.

“Mr. Choi,” I greet him with a genuine smile and a short bow. “It's good to see you are well.”

He bows back. “I’m glad you are also healthy and well. Come, let me take that.”

It was fruitless to protest. For several years, this has been precisely the way our meetings started. I long ago gave up fighting him about lugging my suitcase around. Mr. Choi may look menacing, but he was a sweetheart underneath all that height and muscle.

“It’s been a while, huh?” I make small talk as the elevator doors close behind me.

“Almost two years,” he hums behind his black face mask.

“Two years,” I parrot quietly in wonderment.

We’re quiet after that, each of us left to our thoughts. It’s not for long, though. Soon, the elevator pings, the doors slide open quietly, and we step out onto a plush crimson carpet. Suddenly, the black skinny jeans, purple long-sleeve shirt, and black flats I wear make me feel underdressed.

Not that it would matter. It’s not like I would have them on for too much longer.

“Here we are,” Mr. Choi interrupts my thoughts. He swipes the key card over the black reader beneath the door handle, and there is an audible click as the lock disengages. Ever the gentleman, he holds the door open for me, and I walk into the large room. “You know the drill,” he starts after leaving my luggage by the door. “Here’s the key card. Make sure to leave it here at the end of your stay.” He hands me the card even as he continues his usual spiel. “Your negative COVID test results came through, as did your medical assessment. All is well, as usual.” I press my lips together, my cheeks warming up. Shouldn’t I be used to this by now? “I have reviewed his information also, and all came back negative. Here is a copy for your peace of mind, but for privacy reasons and the conservation of his reputation, the company has remitted his name, date of birth, and demographics. Since you are here, am I to understand you are still in agreement with the contract and arrangement made four years ago? I can provide another copy if you need it.”

Oh, I understand, I think dispiritedly. I understand that this is still just business between us.

“No need,” I let out a short chuckle, waving my hand as if that would brush away the brooding thoughts in my mind. “Yes, I still agree to all the terms. I understand.”

“Ok,” he nods, passing me the medical and COVID documents. “He left you something in the bedroom. Food, snacks, and drinks are in the fridge if you get hungry. My number is still the same. Call me if you need anything or if there is an emergency. They are due to arrive sometime after midnight, so you still have a few hours to yourself.”

“Thanks, Mr. Choi.”

“Have a good night.”

I wish him the same as I walk him to the door. Once he’s gone, I slip out of my shoes, leaving them by the door, and I grab my suitcase to head towards the bedroom. The hotel room was pretty much an apartment. There was a small bathroom to the left and a coat closet to the right in the foyer. The full kitchen had a stove, microwave, counter space, sink, and full-size fridge. Everything is stainless steel. The kitchen was on the right once you exited the foyer. Ahead from the entryway is a large living room area with a television, a couch, a loveseat, a chair, and a coffee table to the left. The TV sits in a shelving unit that takes up most of the wall, and many books of different colors and sizes fill the shelves. A sitting area on the opposite end of the room is arranged in front of a fireplace. Off-center to the living room and sitting area is a sleek black dining table with eight chairs, the chair cushions white, just like the couches and seats around the room. Beyond the dining room is a set of sliding glass doors leading to a roomy balcony with outdoor seating matching the decor inside the living space and a fire pit.

Turning left past the dining table, I finally reach the bedroom. Opening it up, I find a spacious room with a California King-sized bed. The covering atop the bed is fluffy and thick, hinting at the comfort it will provide. A set of French doors leads out to the balcony, a settee invitingly sitting near them, offering the person who sat there a nice view of the space outside.

Reaching the closet on the opposite side of the room, I unpack. I don’t have much, but I hang my clothing on the available hangers to avoid too many wrinkles. As usual, I leave everything else in the suitcase but take out my toiletries. In the bathroom, I can’t help but smile. It was a beautiful area with marble, the palest of pinks surrounding the Jack and Jill sinks. The walls were white marble tiles with light grey streaks, while the marble on the floor was also white, the grey whisps a darker shade. The same tiles continue into the shower, which is right across from the sinks, a luxurious area with several showerheads that I could not wait to use. At the end of the room, there was a grande deep tub. I was quite certain Namjoon and I could both soak in there together. At the opposite end, nearer to where I had entered, a quick stroll over has me confirming it was the toilet, separated from the rest of the bathroom.

Glancing down at my watch, I see it’s already 10:35 p.m., so I opt for taking a shower before it gets too late or I get too tired. Namjoon wasn’t due until after midnight, so I could have a leisurely shower and then lounge around while waiting for him.

But first, I want to see what’s in the bag Namjoon set at the end of the bed. Back in the bedroom, I quickly pull out the lilac tissue paper until a card and the present are revealed at the bottom. I can’t help but smile as I read the note.

Nabi,

I saw this and thought of you. I know you will wear it well. I also got you a little something for those days when you miss the moon. It will keep you company until you can see it again.

See you soon,

Moonchild

Grabbing the box the card had been lying on, my fingers brushed against a soft material. I chuckle to myself, already imagining what it could be. First, though, I wanted to see what was in the black box. Opening it, I can’t help but smile fondly as the contents are revealed. A full moon hangs from a silver chain, a small silver butterfly dangling a few links up. I waste no time clasping it around my neck, the moon charm falling just above my cleavage.

Clutching it in my hand lovingly, I can’t help but wonder if his message had a double meaning. Yes, he gave me a little moon, something we both loved to look at. But he knows I associate him with it, not just because of his song ‘Moonchild,’ but because he loves to walk beneath the moon to release his creativity. So when his note says I can look at the necklace when I miss the moon, and it can keep me company until I see it again, was he talking about the literal moon, or was he talking about himself?

Aloud, I can’t help but frown and say, “Nah.”

Namjoon has not indicated this whole time that there is more between us than a hook-up a few times a year. We do keep in touch by talking and texting over the phone when we are apart, even with his busy schedule, but I never get the sense that there is any romantic interest on his part whatsoever. Anyway, as Mr. Choi pointed out earlier, this was nothing but a business transaction, and I would be a fool if I let myself think anything more could ever come from this.

Not wanting to overthink the gift anymore, I moved on to the other item I had felt when I had gone to grab the box. Smiling, I lift the lingerie, trying to figure out exactly what it was besides purple lace and thin satin ribbon. I guess I would find out better once I put it on. With that thought in mind, I head back into the bathroom to shower.

Feeling refreshed after my shower, I sit comfortably on the bed, a near-empty glass of wine in my hand as I watch a movie to pass the time. Repositioning myself, I feel the lingerie shift beneath the robe I’d tied over it. As the material grazes across my skin, I’m reminded that Namjoon has yet to arrive to see me in the one-piece bodysuit he’d bought me. It barely covers anything, the deep-plunging V-neck stopping short of my navel. The material leaves nothing to the imagination, but the color compliments my skin well and accentuates my curves. The lace in the back only covers half of my ass, and the satin adjustable criss-cross straps leave most of my skin bare as it comes to a neat bow at my lower back. It certainly could leave anyone who wore it feeling sexy, and despite some insecurities, even I cannot deny that I could not wait to see Namjoon’s reaction to me wearing it.

The evening seems to be crawling by. The anticipation of seeing him after all this time has my nerves somewhere between frayed with anxiety and horny as hell. Either way, I feel like I’m on the verge of screaming.

Downing the last bit of wine, I make my way to the kitchen, cleaning up my mess from earlier and leaving the dishes to dry on the counter before slipping out of the robe and sliding in under the bed covers.

Though I am so nervous, the combination of the flight and my jittery nerves has worn me out. I had wanted to stay awake to greet him, but the evening was going too slowly. So, I decided to kill time with sleep. Letting out a shaky breath, I feel myself slowly relaxing. The wine helps, and my eyes slip shut a short time later.

A door closing in the distance wakes me from a restless sleep. I had left the bathroom light on with the door just a smidge open to push back some of the darkness. I scramble off the bed, anticipating finally seeing him in front of me after so long driving away any remnants of sleep left behind.

As I step towards it, the bedroom door flies open, and I gasp. There he is. Kim Namjoon in an off-white suit, the suit jacket unbuttoned. The vest beneath has nothing underneath it, and my eyes are drawn to the deep V of the vest that shows a bit of bare flesh. He wears a thick black choker around his neck with silver spikes poking out randomly all around it. He looks devilishly handsome with his dark chocolate locks, shorter than I was used to, shaved at the sides, and spiked up at the front.

“There’s my beautiful Nabi,” he nearly growls as his eyes lock on me. Even through the thin slip of lace, he has tied across his eyes, I can see the stare is so intense, almost predatory-like, that I feel my heart rate kick up a few notches just because of it. “Come here,” he demands, even as his long legs quickly close the space between us.

Before I can even react, his mouth is slashing hungrily across mine. Inhaling sharply through my nose, I don’t resist. Instead, the fierceness of the kiss mixed with the scent that is his and his alone has my core clenching involuntarily around nothing. It’s like his smell is a key that triggers the memories of our past encounters to come flooding through to the forefront, and it’s the kindle to the fire he always knows how to ignite in me.

He presses his body into mine, and we stumble back until we are met with the resistance of the wall.

“Namjoon,” I breathe as his hands dig into my hips, holding me to him.

Coaxing my lips apart greedily, he drags his tongue along mine, and I moan into his mouth. The bitterness of the beer he must have been drinking before mixed with mint tingles along my taste buds, and I can’t seem to get enough as my hands help him remove the blazer without breaking the kiss.

His mouth, so warm and soft, is not shy about exploring anywhere he wants to. Namjoon slides away from my lips to kiss my jawline before nipping at the pulse at my neck. His hips roll into mine, and we both groan.

“I missed your taste,” he growls as he hoists me up. “Missed this ass,” he smirks while he palms my bare cheeks and gives them a firm squeeze. I wrap my legs around his waist and smile at him. We are face to face like this, and he is such a magnificent sight to behold. He is like an incubus decked in all white and trimmed in lace, ready to devour me body and soul. His saccharine voice is a dangerous addiction that threatens to shatter my heart into a trillion little pieces at any moment if I don’t do better to guard and protect that much too-sensitive organ. With lips ruddy and swollen from the passionate kisses, face flushed, and eyes dark with pure need, he looks like sex personified. He walks us to the bed and drops me down. I shift to the middle, and he crawls on hands and knees towards me, saying, “Missed the way your tight wet pussy takes me so well...”

“Namjoon!” I gasp, feeling myself grow wetter with the filth coming out of those sinful lips of his.

“What?” he chuckles huskily as he drops a kiss on my mound. “You look absolutely delicious in that,” he compliments as his hands graze up my thighs. There is a conflicting sensation, and I look down to see he is wearing white lace half gloves, the material stopping just past his knuckles. My eyes close, soaking up the feeling of a rough scratch mixed with the soft flesh of his fingertips ghosting their way up my body. “I knew it would suit you well.”

I can’t even answer anything he says, my body humming with sensations I have been deprived of for so so long. It’s as if I’ve forgotten how to speak anything other than his name. It wasn’t that I had withheld myself of relief while we were apart. Still, there is just a different feeling altogether when you have all these overwhelming sensations being coaxed out of you by someone else rather than a toy or your own self—especially someone as passionate as Namjoon.

His lips have made their way up to my breasts. The tips press firmly against the thin purple lace, and he wastes no time snatching one between his lips. I let out a loud gasp as his hand slipped between my legs, palming me roughly.

“Baby, you are so wet,” he growls against my breasts. Then, leaning back, he lifts his gaze to meet mine. “I don’t think I’ll be able to wait much longer. I need to be inside you.”

Mesmerized by his flushed cheeks and pleading eyes, I nod, “Yes. Please.”

He licks his lips hungrily, his mouth quickly returning to my breast. I’m groaning when I feel a finger slip inside me. Namjoon’s curse is muffled as he slides in and out, prepping me for what is to come and warming my body up even more. He slides in another digit, and my hips begin to roll upwards, wanting more friction. He’s pulling away, and I whimper, my entire body throbbing with the impending release I am so needing. Namjoon quickly removes the rest of his clothes, leaving on his gloves and the lace he had tied over his eyes.

He is crawling over me in no time, his naked form warm against me. Namjoon does not even give me the time to take off the lingerie. Instead, he pulls the material away from my center and brings his cock to dip into my juices. Biting down on my lip, my hands fist the sheets as he drags the head of his dick up my seam, the tip rubbing my clit sweetly. My hips arch up, and he chuckles.

“Greedy, girl,” he tsks but doesn’t delay the torture any longer.

Namjoon slides in slowly, groaning once he’s bottomed out. His hand kneads my breast as he leans forward to capture my lips in a deep kiss, allowing me to adjust to him. He tastes so good; I could kiss him forever. He gives his hips a hesitant roll, and when he gets a moan from me, he starts a slow pace. My walls begin to tighten around him, and he lifts himself onto his knees, his hands on my thighs, keeping them open wide.

He looks incredible, with his tanned skin glistening in the glow of the bathroom light. His nipples are taut, his abs constricting as he chases his high. I can feel myself getting so close, finding it hard to keep my eyes open.

“Don’t stop,” I keen.

Namjoon obliges, his hips picking up more speed. He feels so good scraping against my walls, touching that spot that he knows precisely how to hit. I bite down on my lip, and Namjoon smacks my inner thigh, and the shock of the sting has me spilling over the edge on a long moan, my hips rolling to meet his thrusts as I ride out my high.

“Fuck, you look so hot,” he pants as he yanks the lace from his eyes. “I need to see you,” he growls as his cock throbs desperately inside me. I know he’s close when his thrusts grow sloppier, and I rake my nails over his abdomen. “Oh, shit!” he curses as his abs constrict just before I feel him burst inside me. Though I’m already oversensitive, I lock my legs around his waist and buck into him as thick streams of his warm cum fill me up.

“Ok, ok, ok,” he shivers as he tries to unravel my legs from around his waist moments later.

I grant him mercy and release him, laughing as I roll out of bed and head to the bathroom. Using the toilet and cleaning myself, I bring a warm, wet hand towel back into the room. I can’t help giggling when I see him collapse back onto the bed after leaning over to toss his spiked collar and lace gloves onto the bedside table, his arms thrown out on either side of him as if that took the rest of the energy he had left.

“You good?” I ask sweetly as I clean him up.

“Come here,” he growls. I yelp, tossing the towel over the edge of the bed, when Namjoon snatches me up and tucks me into his side. He tenderly kisses my forehead as his arm cradles me to him, one of his legs nudging its way between mine. “I really did…miss you, Y/N,” he murmurs before his breathing goes steady.

“Namjoon?” I whisper.

But there is no response. Instead, he pulls me tighter against his sleeping and warm form. I try not to read too much into the gesture. Steadying my breathing, not wanting to wake him, I can’t help but let my mind wander.

How had I gotten here?

I smile fondly, remembering the day we met as if it was just yesterday.

It had been a cool Spring night in 2017. I went to the movie theater by myself. Leaving the theater room after the movie finished, I looked up and became frozen in my spot. Right near the door to exit the building, I swore I had seen Kim Namjoon!

I blinked a few times. Looking around, I wondered how no one else had noticed. Granted, he had been wearing a face mask, sure, but those eyes and his stance? It was undeniable to me.

He was scrolling through his phone and must have sensed my staring because he looked up. His gaze fell directly on me. My heart skipped a beat as he threw a wink my way and then brought a finger to where his mouth would have been. I nodded, respecting his wishes. That didn’t mean my heart wasn’t racing a mile a minute as I made my way to the exit and avoided any further eye contact.

As I walked to my car, my mind was reeling. I had been in the same space as Namjoon! I couldn’t even believe it myself. Lost in my thoughts, I had nearly let out a scream when a finger tapped on my shoulder.

“Jesus!” I gasped as I whirled around. “You scared me!”

A tall, muscular man in black jeans and a black t-shirt bowed.

“죄송합니다. I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“No, it’s ok,” I laughed nervously. I still eyed him warily. He was quite fearsome; the bulging muscles that his clothing did little to hide spoke of how easily he could snap me like a twig if he truly wanted to. “Can I help you?”

“My client, he wants to meet you.” I cocked an eyebrow at him in question. “Namjoon-씨,” he clarified.

I could not help but laugh in disbelief.

“Really?” I scoffed. “Namjoon? Of BTS? He wants to meet me?”

I laughed again. The man, most likely a bodyguard if those muscles had anything to say about it, pulled out a cell phone and dialed a number. When the line was picked up, he spoke in Korean and then passed me the cell phone.

Now, my stomach fluttered as I accepted the device.

“Hello?” I said hesitantly, then tried to backtrack with a “Uhm, I mean, 여보세요?”

I mentally face-palmed myself, instantly feeling my ears burn with embarrassment. A soft chuckle greeted me.

“Hi. I see you didn’t believe my bodyguard.”

I instantly recognized the voice.

With my knees trembling, I was honest when I answered, “I didn’t. I mean, I’m not sure I do, still.”

He laughed again.

“I just wanted to thank you for not revealing my identity inside.”

Holy crap! It really was him!!

“Yeah. Sure,” I tried to sound nonchalant. “It’s nothing.”

“But for me, it is, so what do you say? Will you go with my bodyguard?”

“I don’t know….” I looked up at the intimidating man before me.

“I promise you’ll be safe.”

But my heart sure hadn’t been.

I should have known that very first night that I would not have been able to keep my heart guarded. I tried to be indifferent as I accepted his proposition, to not catch feelings. I did all I could to focus on the fact that this was all basically a business transaction. He would help me pay my way through school while I helped him “relieve some tension” whenever he came to the US. The more legal way of saying we were “fuck buddies.”

Simple.

Yet the more time we spent together, the more we spoke, the more he chiseled his way in. The lines were getting too blurred for me. The two years we were unable to be with each other made me realize it. I thought maybe this time apart would dampen things, reminding me that there really is nothing between us but this contract. It hadn’t been so. Seeing him again, I knew I had missed him so much. He is so good to me and respectful despite the circumstances. And that only makes me adore him more.

I push all thoughts out of my mind as I feel tears threatening my lash line. I squeeze my eyes tightly shut, praying they don’t spill over. Breathing in and out slowly, combined with the warmth of Namjoon’s embrace, helps me to settle down, and soon I’m relaxed enough to fall asleep. The sleep is so deep I don’t even feel him leave the bed a few hours later.

Credits:

Text Divider by @xxbimbobunnyxx

Moodboard by me.

For moodboard, used:

InCollage for layout, title, butterfly and photos.

Except Namjoon’s photo. Credit to RM x GQ Korea, Vogue Korea 2021

Motionleap was used for the movement within the moodboard.

Thanks for reading. Part 2 is out now.

Part 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5

44 notes · View notes

xoxiu · 6 months ago

Text

late bloomer | namjin x oc

chapter one

ao3: here

summary: at Amelie's age, a submissive should have been tagged years ago during puberty. nevertheless, Seokjin and Namjoon were beyond happy to be paired with her, even if the circumstances were a bit unconventional.

the department of behavioral health is in charge of ensuring that doms and subs are guaranteed equality and that all relationships are safe, sane, and consensual. they strive to provide proper health, education, and community services to help those with secondary sexual hormones.

warnings/tags: smut, BDSM, dom/sub, polyamory, fmm, dubcon, tpe, domestic discipline, kink exploration, STRICTLY non-sexual age play/age regression

a/n: it’s been one hell of a year let’s just leave it at that. lemme know how you vibe with this 🫶

Amelie felt the heavy bass deep within her chest- the club’s music was loud enough to drown out her self-deprecating thoughts. Finally, she thought, she could just let loose and vibe. Maybe hook up with a stranger, smoke some weed, and let herself live a little. Considering the past two weeks of hell and torture she had endured, Amelie felt she deserved a good weekend bender.

The young girl smirked as the tall, handsome man in front of her slid another shot of whatever in her direction. She gratefully downed it in one go, keeping the heavy eye contact with the stranger. No one counted just how many drinks Amelie had consumed by this point. The sleaziest club in the city wasn’t exactly known for following alcohol laws down to the letter. All she knew was that she had yet to pay a penny for her drinks, and she considered that a success.

Everything around her began to fade into that delightful haze Amelie constantly chased. The man’s words sounded as if they all were underwater, even Amelie’s giggles felt like they weren’t her own. They were millions of miles away in some bathtub; even the lights and music that once harrowed her senses seemed to blur in that blissful haze in the distance. She didn’t control her body at this point as she wrapped herself around the man’s arm, following him out to the street.

“Woah,” she swayed into the man as he led her to a motorcycle parked out back. “This is- this’s yours?” Amelie didn’t even bother to listen for a response before toddling over to the bike. From behind her, the stranger grabbed the helmet and placed it on Amelie’s head. The fit reminded her of when she would ride a snowmobile with her father back in the day and how the helmet was just a bit too big. Surely, it was fine- the bike didn’t even have a scratch, so this guy must be a safe driver.

Amelie hopped onto the motorbike behind the hot stranger, wrapping her arms around his waist. The two of them sped off down the street, Amelie’s giggles turning into joyous, careful laughter and cheers. This felt so right, unlike how prudishly she was living before. No person should be subjected to twelve years of monotomous schooling, only to then immediately follow it up with four more years of stupid shit. She felt relieved the prestigious university had kicked her out. Amelie was proud to be a college dropout, finally allowed to live life for the first time.

In a matter of seconds, Amelie felt herself fly forward, continuing the forward momentum of the motorcycle while the bike stayed in its place. Without a clue as to what was happening, Amelie turned her head to see the bike caught up under the grill of a sportscar with the hot stranger halfway through the windshield. The last thing Amelie felt was the metal on top of her legs before everything snapped to black.

———

The sun started to illuminate the living room as Seokjin sipped his morning coffee. His eyes shifted from the beautiful sunrise back to the television, nonchalantly catching up with world news. The man prided himself on being a well-informed citizen but could only stand news stations in the morning. They were much more chipper than the afternoon and night runs. And much less fearmongering.

The previous night leading into this morning felt more relaxing and quiet than what Seokjin was used to. As a nurse, he practically lived his life on call, always waking up at ungodly hours to take up a shift at the emergency department. The days when he could lazily lounge into his primary practice and dick around with his coworkers were great. This was turning out to be one of those days.

Just as he rose from the couch to fetch his work bag, his cell phone began to ring. He quickly looked at the number, hoping it was a coworker telling him not to bother coming in today and to just have a nice day off. Alas, it was not. Instead, it was the Behavioral Health Center he frequently volunteered at. Jin stared at the caller ID, dumbfounded and confused as to why they would be reaching out to him. He managed to answer the call right before it went to voicemail.

“Hello?” Jin asked, putting his work bag back onto the kitchen table. This call might take a while.

“Yes, is this Seokjin Kim?” A female voice replied, her voice monotone and void of any indication of why she would be calling at 6 in the morning.

“Yes, it is-“

“I’m aware that you and your husband are on the Submissive Waiting List?”

Seokjin choked on air at her words. At one point in time, he and Namjoon yearned for a submissive, seeing as both of them were dominant. After taking the necessary classes to get on the coveted waitlist, they just kind of forgot about it. Their own dynamic grew, and the need for a submissive wasn’t as needed as before.

“Oh, yeah. Uh, I meant to take us off that list ages ago…”

“We have a submissive that aligns with your subtypes and biomarkers.”

Well, shit, Seokjin thought. He never thought he would see the day. As if the woman on the phone hadn’t heard his previous statement, she rattled off an appointment time and location. Not sure what to do and always struggling to tell others ‘no,’ Seokjin only confirmed that he would be there and hung up.

All the man could do was stand in the kitchen and let out a sigh. He sent the work group chat a quick text alerting them to a sudden family emergency before heading over to the master bedroom where Namjoon still slept. Seokjin had two hours to talk this over with his husband before their household went from two to three.

#bts fanfic #bts #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #bts smut #d/s dynamic #namjin #namjoon x oc #seokjin x oc #late bloomer

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wintaerbaer · 1 year ago

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icebreaker (jhs)

summary: When you get stuck in a walk-in freezer with your work nemesis, he has a rather...unconventional idea to ensure the two of you get through it without being frostbitten.

pairing: Hoseok x Reader

rating: generally sfw (mentions of ass and boobs though)

genre: enemies to ??

word count: 1.3k

prompt: Hobi + "Would you for once stop being a bitch!" + close quarters trope (for @animeniacss! <3)

MASTERLIST

The metal of the door is painfully cold against your fingers where you scramble at it, desperately trying to force it open.

It should be unsurprising–given that you’re literally in a walk-in freezer–but the panic setting in at the prospect of being trapped in here (and with him no less) is absolutely scrambling your brain.

No, no, no, no. This cannot be happening.

“It’s stuck?” Even the mere sound of his voice makes your blood boil on cue. If he keeps it up, you could probably survive in here indefinitely.

“Nooooo.” You draw it out as sarcastically as you can, pairing it with a dramatic eye roll for maximum snark. “I’m keeping us here for fun. Because there is nothing I would rather do than be locked in a freezer with your stupid ass.”

Hoseok levels an annoyed look your way but doesn’t respond, sidling up to try the door himself. It doesn’t budge even a hair, and he pulls back with a shake of his hands, trying to circulate heat back into them. “Shit.”

This being a shit situation might be the first thing you’ve ever agreed on. Ever since you both started working at the restaurant a year ago, you as a waitress and he as a bartender, you’ve been at odds–trading verbal jabs, dirty looks, and loathing the times when, like now, you either open or close together.

Honestly, you don’t even remember what started it at this point.

Your breath comes out in a thick cloud, fogging the space between you. “When is Namjoon coming in?”

“I don’t know.” He rubs at his arms; the thin, black cotton of his button down is likely doing close to nothing as far as warmth goes. “Maybe fifteen minutes?”

“How long does it take for frostbite to set in?”

“Why the fuck would I know that?!”

The annoyed expression he aims at you is downright lethal, and you find yourself jumping on the defensive. “That big, dumb brain of yours has to be good for something, right?”

His eyelids drop, disappointment painting his face more than anything. “Wow. Good one.” But somewhere in his posture, you think you might see…

Hurt?

No. No chance.

He whips out his phone, holding it up towards the ceiling as he peers at the screen. “I don’t have any service, do you?”

A tiny “x” sits in the corner of your phone where there should be bars. “Nothing.”

The vapor of his own breath billows between you as he turns, inspecting the confines of the freezer. “Do you think there’s a hole or something you could squeeze through?”

“What?! Why me?!”

“Because it’s your fault we’re in here!” he exclaims, raising the pitch of his voice in a poor, hyperbolic imitation of yours. “Waaahhhh, Hoseok, I can’t reach the bins on the top shelves because I’m short!”

“I am not squeezing through a hole,” you sneer. “You’re just looking to get a nice view of my ass.”

He laughs, but the tips of his ears go pink, too quickly to be from the cold. “You wish.”

With no other options for escape, you try the door again, bracing your shoulder against it and leveraging all of your weight. Hoseok quickly joins in, pressing both of his hands at the space next to you, biceps bulging.

The two of you fall back with a huff when the door continues to refuse any kind of movement. You shiver, curling your arms around yourself as he frowns.

“What do we do now?” you ask.

He sighs. Runs a hand through his dark hair. “I guess we have to wait it out.”

“We’re going to fucking freeze.”

“I…” He falters, gazing at you with nervous eyes. “I saw this thing one time. Tips on staying warm in subzero temperatures…”

His eyes fall to the floor, and you snap your fingers at his hesitation. “And?”

He gulps, shifting on his feet. “Skin-to-skin contact.”

“No!” you shout. “No, no, no, no. Now you’re just trying to get my clothes off.”

A toss of his hands as he groans in exasperation. “Would you for once stop being a bitch?!”

You feel yourself flush at his use of the word, hot rage climbing up the threads of your veins. If you had a dime for every time you’ve taken a verbal shot at each other, you’d actually be able to afford to see your favorite band in concert. But never, until now, has he dared to call you a bitch.

“Look, I know it must be hard having to go through every minute of your life with an entire tree up your ass,” you snap, “but that doesn’t give you the right to call me a bitch, asshole.”

He flinches, the movement rippling its way through his body like he’s resetting–teeth clenching and joints stiffening before he sheepishly rests his hand on the back of his neck.

“Look, I’m…sorry. Okay? You’re right. That was out of line.”

Suddenly, you’re not frozen because of the literal freezer you’re standing in, but because you never thought you’d hear those words leave his mouth.

He’s sorry?

“I know we got off on the wrong foot and that you hate me, but I am truly just trying to look out for both of us here.” He nods his chin at you, a hint of cavalier mirth slipping back into his expression. “That being said, I need you to take off your shirt.”

You’re still incredibly suspicious, but his apology has taken you off-guard. Could it be that you’ve partially misjudged him this whole time?

Could there really be a scrap of a heart somewhere underneath all that ego and contempt?

You suck your teeth, accepting the inevitable as the chill begins to work itself deeper into your bones.

“You first.”

Hoseok chews on his lip, looking unsure of his plan now himself. But then he’s reaching for his collar, winding his fingers in a downward line to undo each button of his shirt until his torso is bared to you, goosebumps erupting over his skin.

“Fuck, it’s cold,” he gasps. “Okay, now you.”

You grit your teeth against the chill and the fact that you’re really doing this, raising your hands to undo the top button, then the second and the third and then–

A woosh and a cough.

You whirl around to find Namjoon standing in the doorway, looking utterly disgusted.

“In the freezer? Really?” He clicks his tongue at you, shaking his head in disappointment. “You know, we keep food in here.”

A horrified gasp leaves your mouth as both you and Hoseok hurriedly button your shirts back up. “It’s not what it looks like! We were–”

“I know what you were doing,” he scoffs. “Do us all a favor and save it for outside work hours, okay? Now get back out here. I need help checking our liquor stock.”

And then he spins on his heel and leaves.

You rush to catch the door before it closes, Hoseok only a step behind. The warmth of the restaurant envelops you like the toastiest blanket, and the two of you stand there for a moment rubbing the heat back into your skin. It’s such a relief that you don’t even feel entirely horrified over Namjoon thinking that you and Hoseok are sleeping together.

And speaking of Hoseok–

“Well,” he says with a clearing of his throat.

“Well.”

“That was fun.”

“Not in the slightest,” you reply. “Though I can’t believe I got you to say sorry.”

He winks. “That was just to get your shirt off.” You stand there, frozen, as he strides off down the hallway, spinning back towards you at the last second.

“Nice boobs by the way.”

a/n: as always, please consider liking, reblogging, replying, and/or dropping an ask if you enjoyed! :)

#bts x reader #bts x you #bts imagines #bts fic #bts fanfic #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok fic #hoseok fanfic #hoseok imagines

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twinkminnie · 2 years ago

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♡ my works ♡

finished one shots

⋅˚₊ if you're ready, come and get it - 6.3K

rated: explicit pairing: jeon jungkook/park jimin summary: the one where omega porn star jimin gets wrecked by the newcomer, alpha jungkook. tags: service top jk, overstimulation, exhibitionism

⋅˚₊ everytime i see you, i don't wanna behave - 5.8K

rated: explicit pairing: jeon jungkook/park jimin summary: jeongguk can't stop thinking about it. tags: established relationship, canon compliant, bottom!jm, top!jk

⋅˚₊ we could belong together - 10.2K

rated: explicit pairing: jeon jungkook/park jimin, park jimin/park jimin summary: twenty-one year old jimin wakes up to find that not only has he traveled six years into the future but he is in a committed relationship — with jeongguk. tags: threesome, self-cest, two jimins, bottom!jm, top!jk, canon divergence

⋅˚₊ worst nightmare, sweetest dream - 3.3K

rated: explicit pairing: jeon jungkook/park jimin summary: when jungkook, a hunter, wanders too far in the forest, fairy jimin decides he has to have to him. tags and warnings: dead dove do not eat, non-con elements, dub-con, sex pollen, magical realism, bottom!jm, top!jk

⋅˚₊ punish me, daddy! - 13.2K

rated: explicit pairing: kim namjoon/park jimin summary: his daddy has wielded rigid, consistent discipline and unrealistic expectations his entire life. jimin was to be the best, the smartest, the prettiest, the most obedient child. and jimin, more than anything, wants to be good, wants to please him, wants to become the son his daddy has tried so valiantly to shape him into. but jimin is a bad boy. tags and warnings: dead dove do not eat, non-con elements, dub-con, incest, grooming, emotional manipulation, boypussy!jm with breasts, top!nj

⋅˚₊ secrets, secrets 6.3K

rated: explicit pairing: jeon jungkook/park jimin summary: “i know your secret.” jimin peers from where he’s washing his hands, lured to where the school’s resident asshole, jeon jeongguk, is stepping into the bathroom. he’s not sure if he should feel lucky or frightened that it’s only the two of them alone. or; the one where school bully jeongguk takes advantage of school nerd, jimin. warnings: dead dove do not eat, homophobia, homophobic slurs, non-con, blackmail, painful sex, unhappy ending, humiliation, degradation, top!jk, bottom!jm

⋅˚₊ vicissitude 10.5K

rated: explicit pairing: jeon jungkook/park jimin summary: popular, pretty girl bully cisfem!jm takes advantage of closeted transfem!jgk. warnings: dead dove do not eat, transphobia, blackmail, non-con, humiliation, bullying, emotional/mental manipulation & abuse, hurt no comfort, unhappy ending, heavy angst, misgendering, threats, penis in vagina sex, +more on ao3

finished chaptered works

⋅˚₊ i can be your china doll (if you'd like to see me fall) - 2 chapters, 30.5K

rated: explicit pairing: jeon jungkook/park jimin summary: it’s becoming hard to not want to be around jeongguk all the time. jimin wants to soak up all the knowledge jeongguk can offer him, to learn from the best, to be close to him. he hopes he'll have many more chances to show jeongguk that he is willing to do whatever he can to make him proud. warnings: dead dove do not eat, non-con, dub-con, emotional manipulation, coercion, power imbalance, professor!jk, student!jm

ongoing chaptered works

⋅˚₊ if you're too shy (let me know) - 39K, 2/5 chapters completed

rated: explicit pairing: jeon jungkook/park jimin, kim taehyung/park jimin summary: in order to impress his crush, jimin has to turn to his favorite hyung and well-known bachelor, jeongguk. jimin needs jeongguk to teach him how to have sex. as expected, things get more complicated. tags: boypussy!jm with breasts, endgame jm/jk, friends to lovers

ongoing series

♡ milf jimin series ♡

part one

⋅˚₊ put him on his knees, give him something to believe in 6.8K

rated: explicit pairing: jeon jungkook/park jimin summary: the one where jungkook finally gets to eat his best friend's milf of a mother's pussy. warnings: cunnilingus, aged up jm, de-aged jk, 90s au, mommy kink, munch!jk, face-sitting, bp w/ tits!jm

♡ finished twitter threads on ao3 ♡

⋅˚₊ masterlist ⋅˚₊

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bangtanhoneys · 1 year ago

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Moment Is Yet To Come - Grace

Uh, we gonna touch the sky, 'fore the day we die

Moment is yet to come, yeah

Uh, this is only the beginning, the best yet to come

It was odd to be the only one going back to HYBE.

It was just her, their manager Hobum and a bodyguard making the long journey back from the military base where they just saw Jimin & Jungkook enlist, the remaining two out of seven to finally enlist for their service.

Grace was now the only remaining member of BTS left, not that she had to do any military service. Instead she would now be the one keeping the public reminded of BTS, of herself and her solo career which would be fast approaching in a few months and then it would be chaos from there.

She stared out the window as Seoul came into view, the city carrying on with their day as usual. While it had made the news across South Korea, it was just another thing BTS were doing after having seen Seokjin & Hobi already enlist, Yoongi doing his civil service in private. It was old news now.

But for her, her world was no longer the same.

No longer would she see Jungkook for an hour every day, no longer would she see Jimin when he came for his movie nights, Taehyung wouldn’t mysteriously ring her out of nowhere to ask her random questions and Namjoon wouldn’t be there to give her advice on her album.

She closed her eyes and wished time moved forward quickly, to when Seokjin returned home, to when Hobi returned home, to when they were complete again.

Grace sniffed and wiped away the tears that had started to fall.

It had been a bit of a battle but she had been amazingly strong in front of everyone and not cried, laughed and smiled, joked with everyone, laughed at Jungkook’s round head and sent them away with a wave.

She wasn’t going to mention that she and Jungkook’s mother had both privately shed a tear, how she had to quickly hide behind Seokjin to compose herself or how she wished she could be with them as they completed their service.

Yet, she was alone.

Thankfully HYBE was quiet as she made her way up to the floor BTS occupied.

Standing at the entrance to the floor, Grace stopped and listened to the silence. There was no noise, no sound from the studios occupied by their rapline, no sound from the practice room or gym, no sound from a random live.

She unlocked Hobi’s studio and peeked in, seeing that the cleaners had been doing their job well to keep it clean and how it had been left. A hand ran over the couch where there had been many conversations about the future, about their worries and stresses. Her sound board from whenever her solo career was doing her head in.

Gently, she closed the door and made her way to Yoongi’s.

While still in sporadic use, he spent most of his nights at his home studio rather than his Genius Studio. Notes were still spread across one screen, a candle without its top and tangerines which had obviously gone rotten. Grace collected the bag they were in and glanced around, seeing one note with her name on it and some notes he had made on her Dangerous Woman mixtape, from all the way back in 2017.

It would be over a year before it would be in proper use again.

Namjoon’s was the hardest for her. It had been cleaned, cleaned and cleaned again and stuff packed away so nothing would be broken (which was surprising). Nothing remained of Namjoon other than his favourite photo of them together and the rest of BTS. Grace slowly sat down in his chair and wiped a hand over the keyboard.

It was here they figured things out as leader and female member, as writers and as thinkers. As brother and sister. As rapper and singer. As the original members of BTS.

It was here she finally broke down, deep and painful sobs exploding out her chest as she realised, not for the first time, she was alone. Utterly alone and afraid, wondering what was going to come in the future, wondering if it would all be the same again.

Wondering if ARMY was going to stay with her, if they were going to support her, be with her and realise she was hurting as much as they were. To see your favourite people taken away and not here from them as much as they were used to.

There was so much to come from everyone while they were enlisted and she had so much to bring to the table as well, that while the BTS story had paused, the Grace Chu chapter had now fully begun and she knew she was going to make her boys proud.

For now, though, she just had to believe and wait for the moment that is yet to come.

Note: I hope you all cry. A lot. I just did.

#bts 8th member #bts additional member #bts eighth member #bts female member #bts fic

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bunkoos-mole-enthusiast · 2 years ago

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Weekly Jungkook Fanfic Recs

Some fine JK fics for your reading pleasure. 🔞 Please show your appreciation to all the wonderful authors :)

Ruined: Why is there a mostly shirtless man in your bedroom and why is it Kim Namjoon’s, your roommate’s, fault? All you want to do is play League of Legends, not be visually attacked by ridiculously attractive Jeon Jungkook as his six friends perform living room karaoke at the top of their very drunk lungs. https://whatifyoulivelikethat.tumblr.com/post/652706748946366464/ruined-m-jjk

Edge: You’re on Tinder because you’re hoy. Hoy, but not stupid. Min Yoongi is helping you sort through the assholes and he can spot an asshole when he sees one. Someone familiar pops up, someone Yoongi recognizes - Jeon Jungkook, who he says is a “nice asshole… sometimes.” https://whatifyoulivelikethat.tumblr.com/post/661602628044832768/edge-m-jjk

I'll Be Home: When your first love Jungkook disappeared from your village five years ago, no one thought he would return, let alone on the night of your betrothal to another man. https://wwilloww.tumblr.com/post/638612598661824513/ill-be-home-jjk

Idealizations Concerning Real Life Relations: Jungkook loves to be loved, but he doesn’t love in return. https://venusiangguk.tumblr.com/post/649654616149098496/idealizations-concerning-real-life-relations-jjk

His Service: You return to your kingdom when your betrothed suddenly dies, and the only comfort you can find in a court that no longer feels like home is a certain knight. https://venusjeon.tumblr.com/post/640407861894299648/you-return-to-your-kingdom-when-your-betrothed

L'Aquellare: Chased by a drunk man one night, you find shelter in a strange shop, where its cute owner casts a spell on you so that you keep coming back… or does he? https://venusjeon.tumblr.com/post/654990671072116736/chased-by-a-drunk-man-one-night-you-find-shelter

Goodbye To Hallo: Adopting a cat and gaining a new job at a retail store part time, life seems to gradually bring happiness and healing, but you did not expect for it to become even more interesting when you stumble upon the enticing yet alluring tattoo artist, Jeon Jeongguk. Will this be an adventure of a lifetime? Or will hello always lead to goodbye? https://vminity21.tumblr.com/post/716048271989161984/goodbye-to-hello-jjk

Standing Ovations And Other Nonsense: Idiots to lovers. https://vyduan.tumblr.com/post/625539973208211456/standing-ovations-masterlist

Airplane Pt. 2: Jeon Jungkook stole six million dollars. It's your job to bring him home, but finding him - and keeping him in one place is not that simple. https://xjoonchildx.tumblr.com/post/619424386060091392/masterlist-airplane-pt-2

Last Call: Jeon Jungkook is the hottest bartender in the city. Everyone has their sights set on him, but it seems he has his sights set on you. https://xjoonchildx.tumblr.com/post/621953156746706944/last-call-jjk-x-reader

#bts jeon jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic recs #jungkook imagines #jungkook smut #jungkook fanfic #jungkook fic #bts jungkook #jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x oc #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #bts fanfic #bts jungkook fanfic #bts fic recs #bts smut #bts imagines

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thotsofintrusion · 2 years ago

Note

hiii could you do somnophillia with namjoon? thank u, ur amazing!!

of course i can do somno with joon, are you kidding?! ur amazing!!

somno with namjoonie is definitely a soft lazy early morning endeavor. joon is very much a soft dom at all times, but early in the morning when the sun is just barely coming through the shades, he’s so soft he basically turns into a service top. when he wakes up and sees your tranquil form next to him he just can’t help himself. he thinks you’re so beautiful and he’s filled with so much love for you that he just has to show you somehow. so namjoon decides to wake you up with both of your favorite kind of pleasure.

he trails his fingertips down your arm, just barely making contact and chuckling quietly when you shiver in your sleep. he interlaces his fingers with yours for a moment as he works his way down your side, and has to shake himself awake when he realizes he’s been staring at your hands for multiple minutes. he continues down your body, lightly playing with the flesh of your thighs before he pulls your legs open, placing one of his legs over yours. fingers dragging over your panty line, joon mouths at your neck, slowly warming you up. as he lightly bites at your earlobe joon can feel your pussy start to leak into your panties, wetting them and the tips of his fingers as he begins to use more pressure. he rubs over your clit with more pressure and feels your hips twitch up into his hand. he starts kissing down your body, lifting up your shirt and stopping to suckle lightly at your nipples and make you moan in your sleep. when he finally makes his way down to your cunt, namjoon pulls your panties down and off your legs, making you whine at the cold air of the room suddenly on your warm center. he presses light kisses to your clit and laps at your hole, smiling when you keen again. with one last kiss to your clit, joon dives in to your cunny, sucking your clit into his plush lips and pressing a finger into your hole. he licks and sucks at your clit while he plays with your hole, swirling the one finger around at first and then slowly adding another and scissoring them open, drowning in the sounds you and your cunt are making. he fingers you nice and soft, but with just a good enough pace that combined with his mouth on your clit you build up to your orgasm quickly, and when it hits you jolt awake in the throes of pleasure.

joon rides you through your orgasm, suckling at your hole and rubbing your thighs while he helps you come down, and when you’re finally done he pops his head up to look at you, smiling like a kid in a candy store. “morning baby. did you sleep well?”

#why can’t i write endings #this was a lot longer than expected #whoopsies #let me know if you want this flipped!!#as in reader waking him up #kens thots #bts #bts smut #bangtan smut #bangtan seonyandan #kim namjoon #kim namjoon smut #rm smut #rm #bts namjoon #namjoon smut #nonnie

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justimajin · 1 year ago

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The Solace Window

Pairing: Hoseok x Reader (ft. Namjoon)

Genre: Angst

↳ 15.8k / Older Couple AU

Summary: Kim Namjoon is no more, and you are left behind as a 75 year old widow. Stuck in between experiencing grief and mourning your late husband, your search for solace seems more and more far-fetched. That is until you stumble upon widowed Jung Hoseok.

*Warnings: Depictions surrounding death, grief, depression, spousal loss, miscarriage, fertility issues, illness, growing older, familial issues, mistreatment of the elderly, old age homes. This story will deal with heavy topics and reader discretion is highly advised.

A/N: After much contemplation, I have decided to write this fic. It is very personal to me, and one that I really wanted to share.

He’s gone.

Kim Namjoon is laid to rest in the casket in an eternal sleep. His gray hair has been carefully combed back against his wrinkled skin, and he’s dressed in an elegant black suit, arms folded and resting on top of his chest. He wears a content expression, brows smoothed out and lips tightly shut.

He’s gone, forever.

A handful of individuals surround him; namely a couple in their late thirties clad entirely in black. The wife clutches onto her husband’s shirt, thick tears streaming down her face and tremors shuddering through her shoulders.

“D-Dad…” She chokes out, burying herself further into her husband’s embrace as he wraps his arms around her.

There are two small children with wide eyes, glancing between their mother and father in curiosity. Their gazes then flicker over to the rest of the people who have gathered, before looking back at the older lady sitting on the side, who holds a somber expression and far too much anguish in her eyes.

You can only watch as the service is completed and you have to say your farewells. You can only watch as you keep the deep ache in your chest at bay, attempting to keep yourself from crumbling. You can only watch as your loved ones are a mess, sobs echoing from the room.

You can only watch as your husband departs from this world, leaving you behind.

You are silent the entire ride home.

When the multiple cars arrive at the large complex, you already begin to carefully shift out of the vehicle, not waiting for anyone to help you out. Your cane hits against the pavement and you place pressure on it, moving slowly with a hunched back.

You trail along the sidewalk until meeting the front steps, cautiously raise your feet and walk on them one by one. Weakly pushing against the door, you tread towards the staircase, having no desire to eat and wanting to head straight to your room.

A gentle hand on your shoulder halts you.

Turning around, the woman stares back at you with a swollen but intentful gaze. She’s inherited your eyes and Namjoon’s smile, her expression scanning your features.

“Mom…” She calls out, but you don’t have the strength to hear her words.

“I’m tired, Naree.” You quietly whisper, and she moves her mouth as if to speak again, but her own words fizzle out. She simply nods, swivelling away as her eyes brim with water.

You gradually ascend onto the steps, pushing your cane against the wood before hauling your shaking feet upward. After a couple of moments, you manage to reach the top, shuffling your feet into your bedroom.

The bedroom you once shared with Namjoon.

There’s a double-sized bed in the middle with two dressers, one of which has Namjoon’s medications carefully stacked to the side, a small lamp and a book with a bookmark that he was in the midst of completing. There’s two picture frames off to the side, a much younger you with a huge smile hugging a shyer and much younger Namjoon, the snapshot taken seconds before he had accidentally stumbled and taken you down with him.

You move closer to the other dresser, the one that contains all of your belongings. Setting your cane securely against it, you slip into the covers, bringing them up to your chest until you’re completely nestled.

As you stare at the ceiling, silence greets you. There’s the faint tick of the clock on the opposite side of the bed, the very one Namjoon had installed so it was easier for him to figure out the time without squinting and straining his eyes. It’s accompanied with a side that is now empty, his scent still lingering on the pillow that sits right next to yours.

The silence continues to greet you the longer you stare at the ceiling, and it’s absolutely deafening.

The tears rise before you can stop them, rolling down the crinkle of your eyes. The longer you wait, the longer you stare, the more it becomes inevitable with every passing minute.

He’s not coming back. There’s no him arising from the door, slowly parting it as he sheepishly admits he had accidentally fallen asleep on the couch downstairs, mind growing absent these days. There’s no dim light radiating out from your side, a pair of glasses on the rim of his nose as he carefully turns the pages of his book. There’s no familiar dimpled smile wishing you goodnight, no soft kisses against your forehead before he slips into the covers with you, pulling you into his warm and comfortable embrace.

There’s nothing anymore and it’s something that slams into you, being wide awake despite living in a walking nightmare.

A harsh sob rips from your throat, echoing against the silent walls.

You are numb.

You slowly peel open your eyes in the morning, the faint sunlight seeping through the same floral curtains. The side beside you still stays empty, as you continue to sleep on your own side. The belongings on the opposite dresser are untouched, small specks of dust long beginning to settle.

A year has passed since the tragedy, and you are still numb.

You rise onto your feet, your wrinkled hand reaching out for your cane. Weakly pushing yourself off the bed, your feet stagger as you pad through the room and head into the bathroom.

Setting your cane aside again, you turn the tap on and the water flows. Pooling it in your hands, you splash it over your skin, the water feeling tender against it. Glancing in the mirror, a low sigh leaves your lips.

The lines on your features have deepened and increased, small indents showcasing near the corners of your eyes and your mouth. Your cheeks have become hollow, bone beginning to surface and protrude out. The bottom of your eyes have darkened, skin sagging down.

There's a saying you’ve roughly heard in passing – one that Namjoon’s mother had echoed to you when his father had passed away and you were inquiring how she was.

She had said that for many couples, after your spouse passes away, the grief only seems to accelerate the aging process tenfold and that it wouldn’t be too long till her own day would come.

At the moment, the thought itself was devastating to hear. But you never thought a day would come when her words would be so utterly true, your face having aged more within one year compared to the last five years you had spent with Namjoon.

After washing up solemnly in silence, you pad back through into the desolate bedroom, before exiting and slowly descending down the stairs.

Naree’s voice echoes through the room.

“...–not eating on time and barely talks, I just don’t know what to do anymore.”

“It comes with age.” Her husband, Seojun, echoes, “You should know that she’s growing old.”

“I know,” She huffs, “But she won’t even go through my father’s belongings, instead she insists on keeping everything the same and it’s been so long–”

You quietly clear your throat, leaning against the staircase beside the kitchen. Naree spins around with wide eyes and both of them freeze, as if they had been caught.

“Mom–”

“I’m feeling tired.” You simply say.

“Let me make you some tea.” She brings up immediately and you nod, turning around with another word. Naree and her husband glance at each other silently, before she moves towards the kettle.

You walk over to sit down on the large couch at the side in the living room, the one that has enough cushions for your hunched back. Sitting down with a large heave, your gaze falls onto the window.

A small girl stumbles into the room.

Her wide eyes are bright, a familiar dimpled smile on her lips and a photo in her hands.

There’s a soft upturn to your lips and she beams, rushing over in an instant.

“Grandma!” she squeals, body falling near your legs and head landing in your lap. Another younger girl pads in quietly behind, following her older sister with curious eyes.

“Nayoung.” You reach out and tenderly stroke the eldest girl’s hair, who is around eight years old, before moving your eyes to the four year old behind her, “Dambi.”

The youngest smiles and you widen your arm, to which she pads closer and rests within your embrace.

You hug your grandchildren with all the love you have left to offer.

“Grandma!” Nayoung excitedly rambles, placing a frame into your withered hands, “Is the baby in this Mom?”

You take it and flip it around, eyes widening to find the picture of you, a small child in your arms and Namjoon’s hand resting on your shoulder. You’re smiling but your eyes are brimming with tears, as so are his as the baby stays rested within your comfortable embrace.

Your eyes gloss over for a split second, but you sniffle, bringing your attention back to your granddaughter.

“No, it isn’t.” You explain, “It’s my son…. your Uncle Haneul.”

Nayoung stares at you with surprise, glancing at the photo frame again. “Uncle Haneul?”

You slowly nod and she continues to stare with fascination, even glancing back at Dambi and pointing towards it like she had uncovered a hidden secret.

“Where’s Uncle Haneul?” Dambi ponders, and your eyes soften.

“Following in his father’s footsteps.” You whisper, “He became a professor, and he’s been exploring the world for his research.”

Ever since Namjoon passed away. – you want to add.

You take the frame from Nayoung’s hands, “This picture is when he was first born, before your mother was.”

Haneul and Naree. After years of love and even more years of building a life together – a relationship, a marriage, a home, you and Namjoon had decided that you wanted to have kids. Through the ups and downs, the panics of pregnancy to the bliss of becoming parents, you both were blessed with two children that you love dearly.

In return, Haneul had ultimately decided that becoming a parent wasn’t something he had desired, something both you and Namjoon had understood from afar and confirmed when he had brought it up to you. Instead, he wanted to travel and was inclined to be hungry for knowledge, much like Namjoon himself. You had to convince him to leave after Namjoon’s passing, insisting that life was too short and he should be living his, instead of fretting over the family.

On the flip side, Naree married her husband a couple of years back, and you had met your precious granddaughters, Nayoung and Dambi, within that time frame.

Within forty-seven years of marriage, you had seen it all, but it still comes racing back to you in a heartbeat, the memories still so vivid as you stare back at the single snapshot that captured it all.

Nayoung watches you with a smile, and Dambi mumbles something that has light coming back to your eyes.

“You used to be so pretty, Grandma.” The four year old states it so nonchalantly, resulting in her older sister gasping and whipping her head around.

“Hey! Grandma is still pretty.” Nayoung persists.

You deeply sigh, “I’ve gotten old, haven’t I?”

“No, no!” Nayoung furiously shakes her head, “You’re not– …well, you are old, Grandma, but still so pretty!”

A smile cracks onto your lips, long having forgotten what it felt like. Nayoung shifts, eyes growing uneasy.

“Grandma…a-are you crying?”

You sniffle, hurriedly wiping away your tears, The two children stare at you with rounded eyes and you softly chuckle, widening your arms.

“How about you help Grandma feel a bit better?”

Nayoung reacts immediately, launching herself into your arms as you bring her into your lap and rest your head against hers. Dambi crawls up the sofa and you pull her in as well, embracing the two with quivering arms.

Even in this bleak and lonely world, you are relieved to have them by your side.

***

Naree stands by the living room entrance, a cup of tea in her hands.

“Girls, it’s time to wash up and get ready for lunch.” She announces, and the two children glance up, before immediately rising to their feet.

They both give you a quick wave before they’re scurrying away upstairs.

Naree brings the cup and sets it down on the table in front of you.

“Mom.” She calls out and you turn to look at her. “Can we talk?”

A deep sigh leaves you and you sink back into the chair, knowing it was all impossible to avoid.

“I suppose.” You comply and she sits down on the couch opposite you, facing you directly.

“I was talking…to Seojun…” At the topic of her husband, you shift and she continues cautiously, “I know how you feel about Dad, and he does too.”

Your eyes downcast, “But we should really move his things into the storage room, Mom.”

“And what about me?” You chuckle underneath your breath, “Are you eventually going to move me too?”

“Mom.” She chides, letting out a long sigh. She looks tired, just like you. “It’s been a year since Dad passed away.”

And a year since everyone had forgotten about him.

You want to add, but keep silent, “I just think it’s really time to move forward…”

There’s a deep ache within your chest, that only grows with her words. You knew this conversation was inevitable, but how were you to explain?

How were you to explain that ever since Namjoon passed away, you’ve been consumed with an exorbitant amount of feelings that you could barely grasp?

Immense guilt that somehow through all this, you were still here while his death was so sudden. That you were still breathing and intact, all while he had struggled to do the same?

Utter anger that he had left you here all by yourself after spending nearly half a century together, how he didn’t just take you with him, instead of you waking up everyday, longing to see him again.

And of course – the grief. Perhaps the most painful of them all.

You can’t go through his things without breaking down, reopening the jarring wound his demise has left over and over again when you see his clothes, his shoes, his belongings. The last remains of his existence and the last things you can desperately clutch on, mimicking a supposed fabrication of him still being with you.

You wrap your arms around yourself, shaking your head with shut eyes.

“My answer is firm, Naree.”

“Mom.” She exasperatedly says, frustrated with your stubbornness that mimics her own. After all, she’s inherited your personality, except you’ve lived longer with all your experiences exceeding all of hers.

“I’m exhausted.” You simply state, willing your shaking legs to get up. Once they do, you grab onto your cane, trudging towards the staircase.

Naree is silent as she watches you struggling to get up, unable to explain how much grief has been brought to her. Everyday she’s forced to watch her mother fall into a slump, surrounding herself with past memories and unable to break out of her shell. She’s granted only the fleeting moment of your former self when you interact with her daughters, but a part of her always wonders if a part of you had died alongside her father that day, that she ended up losing both her parents in some twisted way.

She rubs her temples, feeling absolutely drained and tired beyond belief.

A week passes by.

There’s barely any change in your routine. You remain within your bedroom majority of the time, sleeping and occasionally being reminded to eat. You don’t speak much, carrying a solemn gaze and a deep frown on your lips.

You don’t see much of Naree or Seojun, both of them occupied with their jobs and not making any effort to speak to you for the duration.

However, one night you find them by the kitchen table, sitting opposite from each other.

It was late into the hours and you had suddenly woken, on your way down for a glass of water.

Naree stills. “Mom–”

“What were you talking about?” You question, and Naree knows.

She knows that you heard pieces of their conversation. The conversation about how drained she felt lately, work taking its everlasting toll on her, right before Seojun suggested taking a vacation and going out on a trip with the family. To the conversation shifting, Naree spilling out her worries and concerns about you, your old age and how much she could see your health deteriorating, to how much she can’t get through to you anymore, how much she’s just given up.

However, what’s caught most of your attention is the sudden mention of a certain kind of home, one that notoriously knows how to take care of the elderly properly.

“We should talk.” Seojun states, pulling out a chair for you. You reluctantly take it, slowly sitting down as your gaze oscillates between them.

Naree sucks in a deep breath, looking at her husband uneasily. “We were thinking…”

“That it might be time for us to try something different.” Seojun finishes, glancing at you intently.

You cut to the chase. “What are you trying to get at?”

There’s a pause and Naree fidgets, eyes focusing onto her hands.

Her next words have you freezing.

“Mom…how would you feel about moving into an old age home?” Naree mutters.

A rigid chuckle leaves you, “So this is what it’s coming to, huh?”

“Mom, please.” Naree insists in defense and if you weren’t so entrapped within your own thoughts, perhaps you would have noticed the fatigue running deep in her eyes or the stiffness in her shoulders, “It’s not an easy decision…but we’ve really thought about this.”

Correction – Seojun has thought about this. You vaguely remember him bringing it up once, much to Naree’s protests and he let it slip by then.

But now, you have grown older and gone through grief, which doesn’t make it implausible to bring up again.

Except this time, you’re alone, not having Namjoon with you anymore to see eye to eye with Seojun as he always did and convincing him that you were better off together.

You miss him so much.

“Your health hasn’t been the same, Mom.” Naree explains, “And both Seojun and I go to work, the girls go off to school and–”

She deeply sighs, eyes becoming glossy. “I know, Mom…I know you’re lonely.”

You squeeze your eyes shut.

“Ever since Dad passed away, I think our relationship has changed,” She simply states, her next words driving a wedge through your heart “…and I don’t think we have the same capability to take care of you anymore.”

You sigh, glancing up to look straight into Naree’s eyes for the first time since Namjoon’s passing.

“It’s the trip too, isn’t it? The girls want to go, but you’ve resisted for a while.” You mention, “You kept saying that I needed you, and that you’ll eventually go, but you had to stay behind because of me.”

Naree winces at how direct you are, not missing a heartbeat of the reality you’ve been noticing since the past year.

Sucking in a breath, you ignore the deep ache residing within your chest, pushing it back into the farthest corner.

“Fine.” You solemnly state, barely having energy anymore. “I’ll go, if that’s what you want.”

Relief breaks out onto Naree’s features and Seojun softly smiles. You suppose it was bound to happen eventually, better sooner than later, and perhaps it would do some good for you, to continue on somehow.

That is, knowing this will be your last days within the home you had once built with Namjoon.

The move happens within a couple of days.

Your bags are packed, with clothes and smaller belongings tossed in. Peering around, you stare at Namjoon’s side of the bed, ready to leave it as it is.

But you step forward, glancing down at the book he was in the middle of reading. It was another dystopian sci-fi book he was curious about, having heard good reviews about it.

You place it into your arms, giving the room one longing look before ultimately shutting the door.

Naree and you sit in the car in silence, as you gaze out the window and reminisce over the passing neighborhood.

You and Namjoon were incredibly young when you had first moved here, hunting down homes and furiously checking the pricing of the housing market. It had been only a couple of weeks since your marriage, both of you fresh out of college and in entry jobs when he had stumbled upon the location, coming up to you with bright eyes one day.

The nostalgia brims in your eyes, but soon Naree is tapping against your shoulder.

“We’re here.” She announces and you nod, before she proceeds to come over and take out your bags.

You glance around with a frown.

It's a small residential area, appearing more like a stretched out home with many windows, accompanied with a garden area at the front that spreads to the back.

Stepping inside, it doesn’t seem to get better.

The walls are a dull white, and sunlight pours in from the windows, nearly blinding you. There’s a reception area that Naree steps closer to talk to, but you stand with a frown still on your lips, peering into the room at the corner, where you can hear laughs and chuckles.

There's a bunch of chairs, with people around your age seated and conversing. They’re smiling alongside each other, while some others are knitting as well as playing cards. It takes you off guard for a moment, not accustomed to seeing so many closer to your age range after being around your own family members for so long.

The place seems to smit a sense of peace with a hint of melancholy, and you’re truthfully not sure about how you feel about it.

“They’re all set-up, Mom.” Naree walks closer to you and you turn, seeing her glance at her watch. “I need to get to work soon.”

You hum and Naree still stands in spot, as if deeply contemplating.

“Mom…I–”

“Have fun with the kids.” You mutter, “Take them to nice places, places they want to see.”

She nods, not lingering for a moment longer as she reluctantly turns around – leaving you all by yourself once again.

It's… unsettling.

Everything follows a schedule and each day repeats, constantly. You’re told when to eat, when to sleep, when to do something fun – as they would like to call it – and the worst part of it all, you’re surrounded by strangers who know each other all too well.

You, in the meanwhile, have been already quoted as being too quiet and solemn, something that makes you want to wrap up into yourself even more. You were never good at connecting with new people, regardless of where you were.

Namjoon was always the sociable one, effortlessly commanding a room with his charm and charisma. You would sheepishly stand next to him, but he would always manage to include you somehow, making you feel less cut off from others.

You let out a sigh – perhaps the only time you actually feel comfort is through the night, tucked underneath the streets with a book wrapped around your cold arms, sniffling as you’re surrounded with unfamiliar things in an unfamiliar room and attempting to lull yourself to sleep.

Because moments like those are where you finally get to welcome his presence wholeheartedly.

You blink,squinting your eyes and raising your hand to block the sun.

Except it’s not the same hand you’re used to – rather it’s no longer wrinkled, with your veins popping out and hands no longer tremoring.

They feel strong, and you open and close your palm a few times astonished.

A pair of small legs tumble into your own and you gasp, glancing down at the boy who has the same features as your husband.

He grins widely, “Mommy!”

“Haneul?!” You harshly whisper, raising the boy before lifting him into your arms. He looks no more than four years old.

Haneul is four, which means can only mean–

You are thirty-four.

Glancing around, your eyes are snapping around frantically – taking in the expansive backyard which you barely would step in anymore, now littered with Nayoung and Dambi’s toys. The house that you left behind, just recently newly renovated upon your insistence. And your son, who looks up at you with wide eyes, as if you’re his entire world.

You attempt to hold him close, biting back the sobs that threaten to take over you.

A loud yelp resonates through the air.

Your breath hitches, knowing that voice from anywhere. Whipping your head around, your legs are stronger, and you take long strides without needing a cane, carrying your son in your arms.

For there’s a small shed in the corner of your backyard and if you’re right, if your memory doesn’t fail you.

The shed needs to be fixed and Namjoon took upon the task himself.

The door goes flying open and his back is the first thing you see.

“Not again…” He sighs, a hand planting against his forehead. There’s a bucket of paint that’s fallen to the ground, along with patches of the white colour sprayed against his ankles.

You slowly set your smiling son down, who giggles and runs to his father. Namjoon instantly looks down, his hand reaching out that Haneul eagerly takes.

Your voice comes out in a choked whisper.

“N-Namjoon?”

He turns with a huge smile and you’ve forgotten. Forgotten how crystal clear your memory once was, knowing his dark hair, crinkled eyes and dimpled smile anywhere. How much that smile hasn’t changed at all, fine lines maring around the corners instead, next to his grey strands of hair and weakened eyes.

How despite the years – he’ll always be the same man you fell in love with.

“Y/N.” He deeply enunciates, concern etching onto his features.

“You’re crying, what– …” He takes long strides towards you, whispering as his hand makes contact with your cheek, “What’s wrong?”

You sniffle, the tears pouring down as you’re no longer able to hold them back.

Namjoon nearly stumbles back when you grasp onto him, wrapping your arms around him tightly. He hugs you back, comfortingly resting his head against your forehead.

“I-I missed you.” You sob out, not wanting to let him go.

“Missed me?” Namjoon softly chuckles, threading his hand through your hair. “I’ve always been here, Y/N.”

He separates you from him, holding onto your shoulders as he tenderly looks into your eyes.

“I’m always here, Y/N.”

You’re suddenly pulled away, away from his comforting embrace and eyes as a white light flashes over your eyes.

You jolt awake, hearing only the faint sound of the heater echoing through the unfamiliar room. Reality crashes down onto you, painfully reminding you of your current location.

The other side of the bed remains cold and empty.

The days churn by, and you are as miserable as ever.

You sit quietly by the side and stare out the window, hearing a few others engage in conversation in small groups. There was something about doing a painting activity, but you had paid it no mind, too focused on the garden outside and grasping onto the book that sits on your lap.

“Before I came here, my husband passed away three years ago.” A voice from afar begins. It comes from a woman, who appears much older than you. “It happened so quickly, I-I didn’t know how to deal with it.”

There's a man sitting next to her, spotting a collared shirt and dark black hair. He looks younger than both of you, and he somberly listens to her.

“How long were you together?” He wonders.

“Fifty-five years.” The woman sadly chuckles, “We spent every day, every moment together…and then one day he was just gone.”

Your heart clenches, no longer staring out the window. You don’t mean to eavesdrop, but you’ve learned it's difficult when you’re surrounded by so many others, stories from so many different phases of life pouring out effortlessly in a single room.

“I’ve heard it all,” She continues. “That he was in a better place, that I would heal with time, even that his time was bound to come soon….I-It hurt, a lot.”

You watch as tears fill her eyes and her sadness fills the small space you’re in, a lump in your throat starting to form. You attempt to pucker your lips, threaten to silence yourself as much as possible, but the words spill out with far too much ease.

“My husband…” You suck in a breath when her gaze falls onto you in surprise. “He…he passed away, about a year ago.”

Her features twist, understanding deep within her eyes.

“I’m so sorry for your loss.”

You give her a half-smile and she presses forward, “How many years?”

“Forty-seven.” You state, adding with a sad note “We never got to fifty…”

She solemnly nods and something in her gaze is just too much, alleviating the tension that has been festering and brewing within you.

“He was kind, a little clumsy and forgetful, but still very kind.” You remorsefully chuckle. “Sometimes, it’s scary, like he’s never existed…and other days, I want to see him again, almost like–”

You silence yourself, eyes clamping shut as a deep ache within your chest just spreads and amplifies.

A voice tugs you out of your thoughts.

“Like what?” It’s the man next to the older woman, his gaze still on you.

Your voice comes out in an anguished whisper, “Like how he visits me in my dreams.”

It sounds strange and bizarre, you know this. But you’re startled when you glance up, only to find that woman giving you a kind look and the man softly smiling, as if he finds the notion to be pleasant.

“It’s nice, isn’t it?” He piques, “Seeing them again, as if they never left to begin with…”

You stare at him in bewilderment, attempting to muster words up.

But he beats you to it.

“Five years.” He informs, like he knew what you wanted to ask. “Since my wife’s been gone.”

You shake your head, not fully realizing his circumstance.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to assume–”

“It’s okay.” He lets out a low chuckle, “I look much younger than I actually am.”

You hum, acknowledging it right away. Alongside appearing younger, you notice his disposition appears to be the same as well, being much laid-back compared to anyone else you’ve seen here.

“What’s your name?” He asks, “I’ve seen you a couple times, but I think this is our first time talking.”

“I-I’m not one for talking much…” You note, but he quirks his head to the side, like he didn’t believe that. “And it’s Y/N, Kim Y/N.”

“I’m Jung Hoseok.” He introduces, gesturing to the woman next to him. “This is Lee Haewon.”

She directs a friendly smile towards you and you attempt to return it back.

“How old are both of you?” You wonder.

“I’m eighty-five.” Haewon answers, squinting her eyes at the man, “Last I remember, Hoseok is sixty-seven.”

“Seventy, Haewon.” He politely corrects, but with no malice. Almost as if he was expecting for her to get it wrong.

She deeply exhales, shaking her head in exasperation.

“My own name is going to be next.”

“Don’t worry about that.” His eyes flicker to you, “When the time comes, we’ll be here to remind you again.”

You nod in assurance and she warmly smiles, placing her cold hand on top of yours. You slowly grasp onto it and Haewon doesn’t move at all, instead ushering for you to sit closer to them.

For once, the weight on your chest feels a bit lighter.

The next day, you’re placed in groups again.

However, this time the head of the home brings out various board games onto the tables, to which everyone requests for different ones and are soon creating circles.

Despite the head asking for you to join this time, you sit in the same spot you had previously sat at, right beside the window as your eyes take in the others playing.

The loud sound of a chair screeching against the floor startles you.

Hoseok looks up with an apologetic smile, a packet of cards in his hands.

You watch with bafflement at how he sets up the deck before you, leaning over to hand you a couple of them.

You take them reluctantly, wondering why he was here when he could just play with someone else, observing him lean back in his chair and cross his legs with a furrow in his brows.

Now knowing his age, it was easier to spot his older features. How, despite having better functioning legs compared to you, his back is slightly hunched, shoulders beginning to cave in. How, despite having a majority of darker strands, there were noticeable specks of grey in his hair. How his eyes have to so occasionally squint to look at the cards, a hearing aid poking out from his right ear as he tilts his head.

You also don’t fail to notice how as his brows furrow in concentration, two small dimples poke out from the corners of his cheeks.

“Your turn.” He calls out, having placed a card down.

You quickly look down at the cards, reluctantly placing one down. He continues to stare at his own intently.

“You know, it was nice of you to talk to Haewon.” He mentions.

You shake your head, “It wasn’t much, I was just talking about my husband anyways.”

“It meant more to her than you think.” He exhales, placing a card down. “Most folks here either ignore her, or tell her to just move on.”

A knowing smile crosses him, “I think we both know it isn’t as simple as that.”

“It never is.” You quietly mumble, placing a card down yourself.

Hoseok hums at that, putting another card down. You glance around warily, wondering why you hadn’t seen Haewon yet.

“By the way, where is she?”

“Asleep, I overheard that she felt tired.” Hoseok does a half-smile, before it’s replaced with his usual nonchalant expression.

You nod, curious about their proximity, “Have you known her for long?”

Hoseok shrugs, “A bit, I just got to know her in the past couple of months. You know, the good ol’ chit chatting with one other while being in the same room.”

His straight-forwardness catches you off guard, shocked by how settled he was.

“You seem pretty comfortable being here.” You note, observing him as he glances up.

“I have to be.” He states with a lop-sided smile, “It’s the same for everyone here. After all, nobody came because they wanted to.”

You freeze, forehead creasing as you stare at him blankly. Hoseok’s gaze lands on you, confusion running through it.

“Y/N?” He ponders, wondering why you weren’t playing your turn. You snap out of your daze, placing your cards down.

“I-I just remembered something I needed to do–” You quietly say, slowly rising to your feet and locating your cane. “Maybe you should play with someone else…”

For a split-second, Hoseok tosses his cards and rises to his feet, as if to halt your steps. But you’re already walking away and he falters, slumping back down into his seat

His eyes are tinged with an indescribable emotion.

You don’t know if you can be here any longer.

But there’s nothing you can do about it. The days pass by and no one comes for you, no one tries to see how you are, how you’re feeling and it dawns one simple resolution to you.

You’ve been abandoned here. Forever.

The next day arrives and you clench your jaw, stepping out of the suffocating room that has been starting to feel more like a decorated prison than anything else. You wonder if you should come up with some excuse of staying back, preoccupying yourself with anything else rather than the activity of the day.

But that’s until you’re informed you’ll be taken to the garden.

Taking a step outside, it’s absolutely serene. There’s handfuls of well-maintained roses, peonies and tulips flourishing, all lush and blooming around the home. It’s both tranquil and inviting, the head informing you that there were watering cans, shovels and new seeds to be planted for everyone.

You secure a can right away, propelling yourself forward with your cane towards the peonies.

A small smile lines your lips.

“Y/N!”

You spin around, in the midst of cooing and feeding your one year daughter as she babbles on her high chair.

Namjoon stands at the door, huffing with a wide smile on his lips.

He raises his hand, a single purple peony sticking out.

You gasp in astonishment, “You finally grew one!”

“I did!” He exclaims. It had been months since he had been trying, your home littered with his bonsai collection until he wanted to try his hand at outdoor planting.

He dashes over and scoops you in her arms, making you chuckle from his victory. Grabbing onto your hand, he edges you to follow.

“Come on, you need to help me water them!”

Laughing, you grasp onto Naree, letting him guide you.

The water pours out from the small canister, sprinkling delicately onto the small petals. You watch with so much fondness, for so much love for the flower, as your hands continue to tremble.

It slips from your hands and smacks against the pavement.

You watch as the water spills everywhere and with a huff, quickly attempting to grasp it. But your knees violently shake, and your hands tremor far too much. You attempt again and again to bend down, but your attempts are all futile, more and more of the contents emptying and spreading out.

Tears unknowingly prick at your eyes and your breathing is heavy, limbs aching from the sudden physical exertion.

The smooth metal gently glides across your fingertips.

You blink, confused eyes glancing up to meet Hoseok’s softened ones. You’re left frozen as he carefully tips it, his hand grasping the canister against yours and letting the water rain over the peonies.

You let him guide you, the water running through the remaining ones before it empties.

“Wait here for a moment.” He directs you to a bench, holding your hands as you carefully descend down onto it.

You observe as he saunters over to the hose, filling it with water again before letting out a satisfied hum. He then manages to grasp onto a handful of seeds and grabs onto a small shovel.

He returns to you, “You should plant some too.”

You quietly nod and he reaches his arm out, as if gesturing for you to hold on. You grasp onto him and he slows his pace, walking at yours.

Everytime, you point at a certain spot, he leans down, making a hole into the dirt before dropping the seed in and sealing it with fresh water. He does it along the edge of the garden, right where the window to your room should be.

He lets out a loud huff with the last one, chest rising and falling alarmingly.

Your eyes widen, having completely forgotten his condition of age.

“I-I’ll go get you some water.”

Hoseok opens his mouth to protest that he’s okay, but you’re already propelling yourself forward, cane frantically hitting against the pavement.

He wheezes, letting out a couple of coughs before you’re standing near him, a water bottle in your hands that he gratefully accepts.

“Are you okay?” You ask right away and he nods, turning to the flowers.

“They’re beautiful.” He states and you hum, the wind weaving through the air.

“I love peonies.” You quietly admit, and Hoseok grins, handing you the water bottle.

He takes a couple steps forward, drawing closer to the older batch. Among all the colors, he snatches onto a bright orange peony, handing it to you with a soft smile.

You bring it closer to you, the corners of your mouth upturning.

It reminds you of the warm hues of the sun.

Your hands tremor and shake, bone sticking out from your softened skin. It doesn’t help that the joints within your bones are incredibly stiff and deeply ache with each movement.

A frustrated sigh escapes your lips, and the needles looped in yarn falling down to your lap.

Hoseok chuckles, reaching out and grasping onto where you’ve left off, attempting his hardest to cross them, pushing one needle into one end and looping it around.

“You’ve missed a stitch.” You point out and he frowns, noticing the small hole he’s created instead.

“Now how did that happen?” He deeply ponders, and a small smile tugs on your lips as he carefully inspects the placement, staring at it up and down.

“You have to loop it carefully,” You softly explain, reaching over to place your trembling hand on his, “It should go through this stitch and then you let go of it to create the knot.”

He follows your instructions, observing as you slowly tug his hand away from the loop, letting it unravel into a perfect stitch.

Hoseok beams, throwing a grin in your direction and you look at him amused.

“I think we make a lovely team.”

You smile lop-sidely, “I don’t know, it’s more of me telling you what to do.”

“A very important role.” He notes, raising the yarn up in his hands, “After all, this is now our group project.”

You chuckle at that and he gazes at you fondly, eyes crinkling.

“Kim Y/N?” The sound of your name has both you and Hoseok glancing up, “There’s someone here at the front foyer asking for you.”

Your brows furrow, but then you catch the sight of a familiar silhouette.

You scramble up from your seat, vision fixated on the backside of the person. Hoseok notices, immediately rising to his feet and handing you your cane, observing as you attempt to hurriedly stride over to the desk.

“Naree.” You whisper, watching your daughter turn around wide-eyed.

“Mom.” She steps forward, and you don’t hesitate to reach out, enveloping your trembling hands tightly around her shoulders.

“You’re here, you’re actually here.” Your eyes are glossy. “I-I thought you left me by myself, I kept thinking about–”

You freeze, surveying the way Naree’s eyes downturn, face void of expression.

It doesn’t take long for you to connect the dots.

Your voice cracks, “You’re not here for me, are you…?”

Naree sighs, “I was just on my way to work, and thought I’d stop by to see you.”

“That’s all?” You mutter, but Naree latches onto your arm.

“Mom.” She chides, but you don’t even want to look at her, “Isn’t this all better for you? You’re not lonely anymore.”

“You’re wrong.” You feel more abandoned than ever. “And this all isn’t better for me, it’s better for you.”

Your words are venomous and the corner of Naree’s mouth twitches.

“How can you say that?” Naree sharply rebuttals. The two of you don’t notice all the lingering eyes watching your interaction, including Hoseok’s. “I want you to come back, but I discussed it with Seojun and we agreed you’d be happier here.”

“And where was I in this decision?” You snap. “Or are Seojun’s words now more important than mine?”

Naree’s nostrils flare and she looks like she’s had enough.

She shakes her head, mumbling to coax herself. “Here I thought that dropping by was a good idea.” Her gaze is directly on you, hurt swirling in her eyes. “But now I’ve realized I made a big mistake.”

Naree turns on her heels, her fists clenched and rage enveloping every fiber of her being. You don’t make a move to stop her, simply staring at her backside and the growing gap each of her steps creates.

There’s a deep ache within the center of your chest, one that expands and spreads, consuming you completely as your daughter abandons you once again.

***

Everything feels like it’s crashing down.

You’re seated within your room, having dismissed yourself and leaving your knitting session with Hoseok behind. You desperately needed to be alone, mind plaguing over and over with the image of Naree leaving, disappointment and rage embedded into her being.

You wonder if you should have reached out, should have begged, for her to take you alongside with her. To take you back to the home you once shared with Namjoon and your family, wanting to feel the familiarity and the warmth that home contains.

A sci-fi book rests within your lap, fingertips clenching onto it. You wonder if he can see everything, hear everything about the family you’ve created leaving you behind, casting you away like a mere thought that shoulders over them.

Thick tears drop down, staining the paper of the book in your hands. Anguished cries leave you, shoulders shuddering as everything crumbles.

You want to see him again, want to wrap your arms around him as he holds you comfortingly, want to have him shield you away from all these terrifying thoughts, ones that are absent of him. You hate how fast he was taken away, and wonder why he couldn’t have just taken you along with him.

A soft knock resonates against the door.

You peer up, cheeks stained with tears and breaths coming out choked. You quickly set the book down, raising your sleeve to wipe away any existence of them.

Padding slowly through the room, you wrap your hand around the knob and carefully open it.

Hoseok stands in front of you, gaze downcasted and shoulders hunched in. It takes you by surprise, never having seen such a lack of optimism in his form.

He looks up, eyes welling with tears.

“Y/N.” He chokes, orbs widening at your appearance. “I-I can come again.”

Before he can turn, you reach out, barely managing to graze his shirt.

The expression he holds draws fear out from you. “I-Is everything okay?

He pursues his lips, like he was attempting to prevent himself from tearing up, before he breathes out the words.

“N-No, not really…” He sniffles, a lone tear escaping him. “H-Haewon…Haewon’s gone.”

Your breath hitches, features twisting. “S-She just passed an hour ago…in her sleep.”

His shoulders slump, eyes squeezing shut.

“I-I couldn’t say g-goodbye….”

You step forward, arms wrapping around him in an instant. Hoseok shrinks within them, harsh sobs shuddering through his body. Tears unleash from your eyes, fisting the material of his shirt.

You don’t know how long you stay like that, wrapped around in your collective grief.

You are dazed.

You find out that aside from being widowed, Haewon only had one son who was in a different country. He doesn’t come to the funeral, and it’s simply attended by a few individuals she had the opportunity to connect with at the old age home.

Which includes you and Hoseok, standing next to each other in black clothing as you watch her casket be buried alongside her husband. Hoseok is silent the entire time, eyes empty.

You knew you weren’t as close to her as Hoseok was, but Haewon was a woman that had given you compassion when you had been desperately searching for it, not even hesitating to listen to your story. She shared the experience of having lost her husband and you recall Hoseok mentioning that she wanted to see him again, even if it meant being in the next life.

You didn’t speak much to Lee Haewon, but she was such a crystal clear reflection of you – a woman dwindling with so much grief that she could barely hold.

Her casket is completely buried and you reach out as Hoseok shudders, a tsunami of emotions hitting him all at once. Your wrinkled hand slides in with his, clutching onto it. He squeezes back tightly, as if you were the only thing anchoring him to reality.

You quietly part together, bidding her your final farewell.

Something is never the same in you after Haewon’s passing.

It’s difficult to explain, the tightening sensation that coils around in your chest with no means of stopping. Your mind flashes back to instances with her, the kind and friendly smile she would always adorn. Or the way her hand was cold but still so warm, ushering you to come closer to her.

It’s crushing, unable to bear with how fast life moves, clutching onto those whose time is no longer needed on earth.

And it’s coupled with another feeling, one that is more erratic and rapid, making you nearly hyperventilate the more you sit in your room, the more you stare at the unfamiliar walls encasing around you at all four corners.

It feels like it’s all you’ll be left with, bidding your own time goodbye within them.

Which is why you leave, heading out your room door and into the garden. You don’t want to follow a schedule, or do activities, simply asking for permission to escape for a brief moment so you feel like you can breathe once again.

And it seems like you’re not the only one with the same idea.

Hoseok sits on a bench a bit farther from the garden and house, his backside facing you and against the sun that begins to rise, peeking through the grass and illuminating its rays through the orange sky.

It draws you in, and you walk forward in a daze.

You slowly sit down, back resting against the wood and setting your crane to the side. Hoseok’s attention flickers over to you.

You quirk up a soft smile, “Couldn’t sleep?”

He blinks after a moment, shaking his head with a sigh.

“No….no, not really.”

You hum, knowingly. “The sunrise is beautiful.”

He nods silently.

You sit in silence, enjoying the breeze wafting through the area and the way the clouds move rotationally, drifting through the clouds. The orange hues morph into the briefest of purple, light spreading over your skin and remaining within your irises.

You suck in a sharp inhale.

“Kim Namjoon.” You state as Hoseok turns to look at you, “My husband, who left me a year ago. He was followed by Kim Naree, my daughter, who left me a month ago.”

His eyes find your own. “And then followed by Lee Haewon, who left us a week ago.”

Your voice breaks. “I-I don’t know if I can handle anyone else leaving me...”

Hoseok’s hand reaches out, placing it on top of yours.

The corner of his mouth remorsefully curls up. “Don’t count me out so easily.”

You smile, for the first time in weeks, and the sunrise takes over the sky.

Taking up the opportunity, you vocalize all your innermost thoughts, “I’m not sure if I exactly belong here…I know I feel less lonely at least, but I don’t know if I can stay anymore.”

“You want to leave.” Hoseok states, like he understands.

Your words hold an infinite amount of weight, “I-I’m just…terrified. Terrified that I’ll be spending my last days here.”

“Where do you want to go?” He genuinely questions.

“Home.” You let out a low chuckle, “If that’s even possible anymore.”

“It can be.” Hoseok softly smiles, two dimples showcasing on his face.

You reach out, clasping onto his head. “Come with me…please.”

You know it’s a completely selfish request, especially when he seems to be much more comfortable here.

But you forget that Hoseok has lost as well, defeat encasing the man more and more as the days draw out. It seems like you’re still his anchor, drawing him back before he’s completely gone.

His hand tightens his hold on you.

“Let’s go home,Y/N.”

You stand in front of your home.

It wasn't easy coming here. You had to be granted permission to leave the vicinity and it wasn’t the simplest task for Hoseok either, needing to prove the two of you would be functional to do so. You suppose you could have laced it over with a visit, but you couldn’t stay any longer, not there anymore.

A shaky exhale leaves you and Hoseok reaches out, lacing his fingers with yours and having a comforting smile.

You knock against the door.

The door comes swinging wide open and you’re confronted with the sight of your son-in-law.

Seojun stares at you blankly, as if you were a mere ghost, glancing between you and Hoseok in disbelief.

“Nice to see you again.” You state, stepping into the household. It looks the same – the same couch, the same curtains and the same memories. It’s almost like you never left to begin with.

“You’re back.” A voice acknowledges from the staircase, and you look up.

Your eyes lock onto Naree’s, who stands in the long hallway, arms crossed and holding a hardened gaze.

“You look like you’ve been well.” You reply with a smile, but her gaze is concentrated on the man standing with you.

“Who is this?” She questions, and your eyes widen.

Hoseok immediately steps up with a friendly smile, “My name is Jung Hoseok. It’s nice to meet you.”

Naree stares at Hoseok’s outstretched hand, not moving to shake it or say anything back. After years of raising her, you know exactly what her response means.

She’s inspecting him, wondering why you showed up out of the blue with a man near the same age as her father.

She doesn’t say another word, simply turning her back and walking into the kitchen. It makes you want to almost laugh, how it doesn’t take her much effort to easily disregard you at this point, so much that it doesn’t even hurt and you simply just expect it.

Seojun glances between the two of you, clearly taken aback with the situation and unsure of how to react.

You walk past him, heading up the staircase with Hoseok.

“I’ll be in my room.” You declare, the door shutting behind you.

***

All of it has been moved.

Despite the house not changing, the people have changed, and so have the contents of the room you once shared with Namjoon.

All of his belongings are gone, stowed away in airtight boxes.

Like he never even existed to begin with.

Your shaking hands reach out. “No…no, no–”

You stumble, collapsing onto the ground.

“Y/N!” Hoseok reaches forward in an instant, steadying you.

“Everything’s gone, Hoseok. They moved everything–”

Tears are streaming down your eyes and Hoseok is clutching onto you as you sob.

“Shh, it’s not gone.” He coaxes, reaching out for one of the boxes. His hands are tremoring but he still claws at the tape, unraveling the plastic back and tossing it aside. The box unfolds and he shifts it over to you, wanting you to see your husband’s things first hand.

You catch sight of one of his jacket’s.

Reaching out, you gasp onto the material, staring at it in awe. It was one Namjoon used to love to wear, tossing it on when you would ask him to go out on walks with you, or consequently the one that was placed on your shoulders when he noticed you shivering in the wake of fall.

You wrap it around your arms, the amount of comfort from the action easing your heart a bit.

Hoseok softly smiles, shifting over another box. He opens it to reveal a stack of books, distinctly looking similar to the one you always carried in your lap.

“Did he like to read a lot?” He ponders, and you nod, curiously looking over his shoulder.

It all snaps – and the excitement washes over more quickly than you can stop it.

“He did.” You lean over, grasping onto a title, “This was one of his favorites, he used to read it all the time. And this one,” You pick up another title, “He used it for his final thesis back in college, and asked me to read it with him.”

You chuckle, tears still streaming down your eyes. “He was always so smart, but asked me to check over everything he did.” You turn to Hoseok, who has softened eyes, “He was just an overthinker, you know? And I knew I always had to calm his mind somehow, so I would make him tea often when he was working.”

Hoseok simply watches. Watches at how much love you pour out for your late husband, how much adoration is in your voice and the tenderness in your eyes. It’s something he’s only had the pleasure of experiencing once in life, and it’s not something he’s found easily in others.

Namjoon is truly your soulmate.

“H-He would ask what magic I would p-put in it….all the time.” Your voice cracks at the end and Hoseok’s eyes shoot up into alarm.

“Y/N?” He shifts closer to you.

“I-I….” You squeeze your eyes shut, the realization donning faster than you can stop it. “I-I just can’t.”

“You can’t what?”

“I can’t.” You gasp out. “Namjoon, he’s….he’s everywhere.”

You can see him everywhere – in the things you hold, in the memories you’re left with, in the hopes and dreams you once had together. Your entire life had been constructed around him, and it’s something you didn’t notice until you were sitting in that very same room you shared, surrounded by his entire essence.

It's like you’re experiencing the grief all over again, except this time it’s worse because you’ve realized what you’ve truly lost.

Hoseok feels his own heart shattering into pieces. He can’t explain how much he knows exactly what you’re going through, how much letting go was an impossible task when you’ve had years and years, an entire timeline spent with someone after an eternal promise of forever.

A tear streams down his own eye and he moves closer, wrapping his arms around you and leaning his head against yours.

“H-Hoseok, I-I can’t….” You whisper, “I can’t live the rest of my life here. In only the memory of Namjoon and with a family that just doesn’t want me anymore….I-I just can’t do it.”

Hoseok shudders, letting out a small hum as you spill all your fears out to him.

“I-It’s okay, Y/N.” He manages to get out, “It’s okay to feel this way. I-I can’t even explain to you how normal it is to.”

– or how familiar. – he wants to say.

You sob and he parts from you, gazing into your eyes as he cups your face.

“What do you want, Y/N?” He earnestly questions. “What is your heart telling you?”

“I just want to leave….and go somewhere far, far away.” Far from here.

It almost sounds like a ridiculous fantasy, but Hoseok nods.

“How far?” He seriously ponders, “Like can we get there by bus? Do we need to take a train?”

The corner of your mouth curls up.

“Maybe by train. Buses are horrible to sit on for long hours.” You note with a sniffle.

Hoseok frowns, “You make it sound like we’re so old.”

“We are old, Hoseok.” You chuckle and he grins at the sound of it.

“Really? Say that again for me, I didn’t hear you the first time.” He turns his head, showcasing his hearing aid. You lightly hit his chest, before resting your head against him.

“I’ll take you wherever you want to go, Y/N.” He whispers in reassurance.

Reaching his hand, he lifts you up, ensuring your balance is okay. You keep your hand in his, tightening your hold on him.

***

You regain yourself, and Hoseok carefully holds onto you, taking you slowly down the stairs. He matches his steps with you, watching as your foot slowly descends down one step before planting his own down, your cane granting you the momentum.

Naree stands by the door, arms crossed and appearing to be waiting for someone.

Hoseok glimpses at you tenderly and you nod, alerting her attention to the sound of your cane against the ground.

She deeply sighs, “I have time to drop you back once you’re–”

“I’m not going back.”

Her brows furrow “What do you mean?”

“I’m leaving, Naree.” You declare, and that’s when her eyes snap onto yours and Hoseok’s interlaced hands.

There’s disbelief in her eyes, “You’re leaving with him?”

You nod and Naree shakes her head, as if her entire existence is being questioned.

“Mom, how could you?” She spits, “It’s only been a year since Dad passed away.”

“Naree–”

“I know you were feeling lonely, but out of all things this?”

The door suddenly widens and Seojun emerges, two little girls by his side.

Nayoung's eyes light up, “Grandma!”

“What’s going on?” Seojun interjects and Naree squeezes her eyes, shaking her head.

“Oh nothing, just my mother betraying my father.” She snaps, and his eyes widen.

He pushes Nayoung and Dambi away, “Girls, go upstairs.”

Nayoung begins to protest “But Grandma–”

“Go.”

She doesn’t say another word, simply downcasting her gaze. Dambi follows, but you can feel their gazes linger on you, and there’s nothing more you want to do in the moment then to bring the two girls into your arms.

“Naree, don’t do this.” You whisper, but her clenched fists are enough of an answer.

“Don’t do what? Be upset that my mother found someone else that isn’t my father?” She huffs, “How could you do this, Mom?”

She turns to Seojun who comforts her and you shift uncomfortably, wanting to disappear.

“With all due respect–” A previously silent voice pitches in, “I think you’re being incredibly unfair.”

You stare at Hoseok, who still holds a warm look in his eyes. “I’m not replacing your father, if that’s what you’re concerned about. Y/N still loves him very much, just like I do my wife.”

“But it wouldn’t hurt to consider that your mother has been by herself for quite a while and that hurts.” Hoseok sadly smiles, “Much deeper than you could possibly imagine.”

Naree looks at him startled and Seojun is baffled. There’s a silence that lingers and Hoseok tightens his hold on you, slowly heading towards the door.

“It was nice meeting all of you.” He simply responds, before leaving altogether.

There’s a multitude of words ready to tumble from you.

“Hoseok, I–”

“You don’t need to explain.” He insists, but then he shakes his head, as if suspended in disbelief. “I just can’t believe how they were treating you...”

You wince, finding yourself agreeing with his words. It seemed like all your doubts, all your fears, were cemented right in front of you and now you know.

You don’t belong there anymore.

You’re about to turn and tell Hoseok that you should collectively leave now, the desperation of going far away reaching a complete high, but that’s when your eyes catch onto movement.

“Hold on.” you quietly say, and Hoseok sends you a confused look. You carefully trudge your cane forward, slowly walking to the side of the house.

You freeze.

There's a silhouette of a tall man with dark hair standing by the garden, right next to the peonies and with a giant bag slung over his shoulder. His backside gives you so much whiplash at how distinctly familiar it looks and as if in a trance, you continue to move forward with furrowed brows.

You pause, the disbelief sinking in. He snaps his head around at the sound of your cane, narrowed eyes widening.

You whisper out his name, breath coming out shaky.

“H-Haneul?”

You had almost forgotten just how strikingly similar he looks to Namjoon, just how much he could easily be mistaken for a younger version of the man.

He widely smiles, expression brightening at the sight of you.

“Hi, Mom.” He takes long strides towards you, embracing you immediately. You wrap your arms around him tightly, a joyful smile on your lips.

You separate from him, attempting to get a good look at your son. “I-I can’t believe you’re here…”

He warmly grins, eyes flickering over to Hoseok. You immediately turn, a bit flustered.

“T-This is–”

“Jung Hoseok.” Hoseok outstretches his hand with a smile.

“Kim Haneul.” He states, shaking his hand with a similar smile. He gestures to you. “I’m her oldest.”

Hoseok nods understandably, “It’s nice to meet you, Hoseok.”

He grins and you’re a bit taken aback at Hanuel's gesture, naturally giving back the same courtesy that was given back to him.

He hasn’t changed one bit.

“Could we talk?” He mentions, gesturing between you. You nod immediately and Hoseok politely smiles, stepping towards the front to give you some privacy.

Haneul holds your hand as you slowly walk, guiding you onto the bench in the backyard. He waits as you sit down, taking a spot by you.

As glad as you are to see him, you’re curious.

“How are you here, Haneul?”

“I came by to visit.” He explains, “I managed to get a couple of days off.”

You nod, “Naree… she told me you were in an old age home.”

“I see….” You fall into silence and Haneul quietly watches you from the corner of his eyes.

“Was it your choice?”

“At first, it was.” You exhale, “But then Naree never came for me, and when she did, she wanted me to stay–” Your words grow smaller, “And now, I just can’t go back anymore….”

Haneul lifts his hand, placing it on top of your wrinkled one as you heave, eyes getting glossy.

“His name is Hoseok.” You sputter out, wanting to rid him of any worries, “We met at the care home and got closer. I feel better with him around, and he understands me, but I’m not trying to replace your father in the least–”

“Hey, hey.” He softly says, “Who said anything about replacing Dad?”

“Naree did… and I don’t blame her.”

Her words have you thinking twice, wondering if everything you were doing was just wrong.

Haneul frowns, “Mom, Naree’s husband isn’t dead.”

“Don’t say such things, Haneul.” You chide.

“Mom, listen to me.” He fully turns to you, taking your worn out hands in his stronger ones. “Dad’s gone, and you’re all by yourself now. You don’t owe anyone anything, especially not at this age.”

He knowingly grins, “What was the advice you had given to me before I left?”

The memory is still crystal clear to you. “That life was too short…and that you should be living your own, without fretting over the family.”

“And you told me this after Dad’s passing.” He persists, “Why can’t you give yourself the same consideration?”

You slowly nod, taking in his words. “You’re right…”

But then an amused chuckle leaves you and his eyes widen.

“You know, you sound so much like your father that it’s actually terrifying….”

He looks amused, “Well, he was one heck of a wise man.”

He laughs and so do you, feeling your chest grow a bit lighter.

Haneul exhales, something in his gaze abruptly changing.

“Mom, you’ve gotten older. The last time I saw you, you weren’t this weak.” He admits, “I just really want you to leave while you’re still able to.”

You look up at him, water welling up in your eyes. There’s an unsaid message sent between both of your eyes, one that you unfortunately understand very well.

This very well may be the last time you see him.

You advance forward, wrapping your shaking hands around his shoulders. He leans down, holding onto you in a loving embrace.

It makes you wonder where time went, where the boy that was running around the house with giggles and helping his dad with fixing the shed went, becoming a fully fledged adult who you could express your deepest concerns to, and lean on as you grew brittle.

***

Haneul walks you back to the front, exchanging a smile with Hoseok who had been patiently waiting for you. He reaches his arm out and you hold onto it.

Haneul enters the house again, insisting to bring the bags you had packed. You discuss with Hoseok about your plans moving forward, but the door comes bursting open.

Two young girls come forth, tears in their eyes.

“Grandma!”

Nayoung launches herself at you, embracing you immediately. Dambi is behind her, eyes flickering all over your form.

A small chuckle leaves you and Hoseok smiles at the interaction, watching at how you comfortingly rub their backs as they sob into your floral dress.

“U-Uncle Haneul says you’re leaving…” Dambi mumbles out.

A sigh slips out from you and Haneul emerges with remorse on his face, appearing like he attempted to keep it a secret but couldn’t to no avail.

“I am leaving.” You’re completely honest with them. “I know it’s hard, and I’ll miss the two of you greatly, but I….I need to go.”

Nayoung and Dambi look at you thoughtfully, nodding their heads, “And I won’t be alone either.”

You turn to Hoseok who smiles, causing both of the girls to be captivated with his appearance.

“Will you be looking after Grandma?” Nayoung wonders and he softly nods, a certain fondness in his eyes you haven’t seen before.

“I will be.” He says, “Someone has to remind her not to be so stubborn.”

You exasperatedly shake your head with a chuckle as Hoseok grins, but Nayoung moves closer to you, a dimpled smile on her lips.

“I’ll miss you, Grandma.” She whispers, hugging you. “Please be happy.”

You’re astonished at her words, wondering just how obvious you had been. You know the saying that children have a tendency to see everything and there’s something that shines in Nayoung’s eyes that makes you sniffle, hugging the girl tightly in your arms.

Hoseok helps you with your cane and you clutch onto him, afraid that a part of you will never want to leave if you didn’t. You watch as the two girls wave their hands at you, huge smiles on their lips. Haneul stands by the door, leaning against it with a grin.

You wave back at them, even noticing Naree by the window, sticking her eyes out despite her crossed arms. You want to chuckle, amused how obvious your daughter could be at times.

Taking one look back, you see all that you’ve built with Namjoon. Your house, your children, your grand-children, the years and years of your lifetime all showcased within your field of vision. You smile, wondering if the man was still alive, how he probably would have been standing alongside them, ushering you to be on your way already.

Turning around, Hoseok holds onto your bags, a smile on his lips.

You take his hand with your own.

The next couple of days are a bit of a blur for you. You find out Hoseok had booked a train for you into the nearby city, one that wasn’t luckily drawn out for too many hours. He calls a cab to pick you up and you’re soon in front of train tracks as he holds you, slowly helping you on.

You spend the rest of the duration looking out, watching at how buildings, greenery and the life you once knew whizzes by. It makes you wonder when the last time was when you’ve done something like this, recalling the last trip you ever took was with Namjoon and years before the two of you had started finding it difficult to do.

You arrive after a couple of hours, your joints aching a bit which prompts Hoseok to seat you down onto a bench, attempting to find a water bottle for you to drink. It amuses you a bit to see others glancing at you, seeing a much older couple traveling together rather than a youthful one. Instead of energy and fresh eyes, they see peacefulness and serene ones, and it all the more makes you want to smile once more, no longer feeling like you were being trapped or held back somewhere.

You arrive at a small residence that Hoseok took care of.

He turns to put the bags away and you clasp onto his wrist. “Hoseok.”

He glances at you and you sincerely look at him. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.”He warmly smiles.

“What should we do now?” You ponder, “Everything I said was completely on a whim, but I still don’t know–”

“Hey.” He softly calls out, slipping next to you and placing a hand on your own. “Don’t stress too much about it. I’ve booked us this place here to stay for the week, and you can take your time before officially deciding where to go.”

You stare at him in surprise, feeling so grateful that he is here with you.

“Okay.” You quietly say and he gets up with a grin, moving to unpack a bag.

That night, you lay awake on a bed adjacent to Hoseok. He doesn’t sleep next to you, but still remains in the room, the sound of his soft breathing echoing off the walls.

Your mind is brimming with endless possibilities, and for the first time ever, you fall asleep with a smile on your lips.

You desire a home.

A home. A place of comfort – a place that welcomes you with open arms and loosens the tightness in your chest, a place that allows you to breathe easier and fills you with warmth, a place full of solace, one which soothes your aching heart.

It’s not much, a small house out by the fields and close to a meadow, far out from the city and next to an expansive lake. The wind ever so breezes over the numerous flowers collecting in the open fields and the sun is always shining over, reflecting over the pools of water. You have your occasional neighbors, mainly families that harbor residences nearby to spend their idle time. It’s always interesting when they run into you, assuming an entire family to be inside only to find an elderly lady smiling back at them.

It was something you didn’t get instantaneously, searching around for the exact spot you wanted. In a way, you still thank your late husband for always advising you to keep money on the side, indicating that you would need it one day for when he was gone and you would always chide him not to bring the bad thoughts into mention. It led you to a place you would have never in a million years thought you would have ended up at, and never with the amount of pure joy it’s brought.

You desire a home, and somehow, just somehow, you find one in Jung Hoseok.

He takes you everywhere you desire, whether it is walking down the borders of the lake, to watching the skyline of the far city. He’s always two steps ahead of you, picking up your cane when it stumbles and interlacing his hands with you, letting you lean your weight against him. He assists you with your gardening and sets up two rocking chairs outside of the cabin, sitting down for hours with you as you read.

He’ll joke that his legs are getting too shaky when he walks with you, or that the tremors in his hands are always at a constant beat. He’ll smile with fine lines marring his forehead and the creases of his eyes when you chide him, just as he insists that he has no reason for his constant remarks around you. He’ll look at you tenderly, watching as every word spills out of you, even after you recall an eternity of memories with someone else.

There comes a point where your small thank you’s disappear altogether, and you clasp onto his hand instead.

“It’s so beautiful.” You whisper, watching the rays of the sun descend, catching a warm hue of orange all over the meadow. It transcends over the horizon, illuminating the delicate lines on your face and specks of your irises.

Hoseok hums next to you on the bench, your arm around his. He watches as the sun slowly dips into the horizon, the orange submerging before a cool blue takes over.

“It is.” He murmurs, “Kinda makes you think how small you really are.”

You let out a soft laugh and he grins in your direction.

“You always have such a way with words.” You remarks.

“Well, I think it’s one of my best qualities.” He retorts, “Aside from knitting, of course.”

You shake your head as he chuckles. The sun completely disappears and he glances at you.

“Say, how about we head in and I brew us some hot tea?” He suggests, slipping his warm hands within your cold ones.

You stare at him for a second, expression impassible. Hoseok frowns, a deep crease forming between his brows.

“Y/N?” He ponders at your silence.

“I’m so lucky to have met you.”

Hoseok blinks, but the words tumble out much faster than you can stop.

“I was so, so alone, and absolutely terrified that the rest of my life would be like that.” Water surfaces in your eyes, “But then I met you and I never realized how much I missed this feeling of…being alive.”

A bright smile stretches on your cheeks, “I’m so happy, Hoseok.”

You don’t have a chance to swipe away your tears, his arms coming to encase around you in an instant. A gasp leaves you, but Hoseok tightens his hold and you lean against him, arms slipping around his back.

“Y-You don’t understand…” He whispers, voice cracking that makes you stiff with alarm. “You don’t understand how much I feel the same way.”

He separates from you, irises glossed over. It’s a look you’ve noticed before in his eyes, a look that speaks volumes compared to his usual warm and cheerful disposition, a look that even terrifies you to a certain extent, encased within anguish and longing.

You wonder if it’s the same look he had been seeing in you the first day he met you.

***

You’re seated on Hoseok’s bed, watching him filter through his cabinet.

You’ve been here a handful of times, mostly nights where you weren’t able to sleep and he sat by your side until you did. Or moments where you would ponder about him, coming by to say good morning or wondering if he had eaten already.

However, you’ve never been here in the wake of the night, watching him open up his belongings with an unwavering gaze in his orbs.

He halts after a couple of seconds, treading slowly towards you before planting himself beside you on the bed.

Sharply inhaling, he hands you the photograph in his hands.

A young woman immediately flashes before your eyes, a kind upturn to her eyes and a warm smile on her lips. She appears to be within her late twenties, curly locks falling to her shoulders and dressed in a bright orange dress.

Even through the lack of light, you don’t fail to miss the ring that sits on the third finger of her left hand.

“Jung Euna.” Hoseok somberly confirms, “My deceased wife.”

Your eyes widen instantly.

Aside from the first time you were alerted of her presence, Hoseok has never spoken about her. You had never questioned him either, knowing better than anybody else the sheer grief that came with losing your sprouse.

And in a way, a part of you always knew, being painfully aware of it since the moment you’ve met the man.

His warm smile has always seemed to carry the weight of the world.

“She was really pretty.” You add with a smile, peering up to see tenderness in Hoseok’s expression.

“She was.” He hums, “I had actually liked her since high school, but I was always too nervous around her to confess my feelings.”

You nod, and he continues. “But then one day, I was working at a department store and she walked in. Recognized me within seconds.”

“–I knew I couldn’t let the chance slip away from me again, so I asked her out. To my surprise, she agreed right away, as if she had been waiting for me to ask.”

He beams, “She was stubborn, but very loving. Not a day goes by without me thinking about her.”

Your brows lift, wondering if this is how you sounded when you talked about Namjoon. If you held so much love in your eyes, so much nostalgia in every word you spoke, so much sparks of joy in your expression.

“We…we never had kids.” He brings up, as if he knew what you were wondering. “Rather…we couldn’t have kids.”

Shock crosses your features and Hoseok grimly smiles, “Euna…she had a miscarriage. And then we found out she couldn’t have kids anymore, and it was devastating.” He sighs, recalling the memory like it was yesterday, “We fought, a lot. She kept telling me to divorce her, or to find someone else, because she knew how much I wanted to be a dad and have kids of my own.”

“But you see, I’m just as stubborn as my wife. I told her I wasn’t going anywhere and that it didn’t matter at the end of the day. That I didn’t vow to be with her in sickness and health at the altar for no reason, and that my desire to be with her was stronger than she thought.”

“Euna cried a lot. She would always cry in moments like this, not realizing how clear it was that she was suffering. So, I stayed with her and we were together for years, until her death.”

You let out the breath you hadn’t known you had been holding, “C-Can I ask….”

A small smile curls on his lips. “Of course you can.”

You dart your gaze at the photo, knowing this isn’t easy to talk about. “Euna…how did she…?”

Hoseok harshly swallows, all his wounds reopening before him. “She got diagnosed with stomach cancer. We luckily caught it right away, but Euna…she got sick, very quickly. It soon turned into going back and forth into the hospital, getting treatments and scheduling surgeries, and she got better. She looked so healthy, even started smiling again and–”

Hoseok shudders, raising a hand against his eyes. You shift closer, wrapping an arm around him as his body trembles, sobs escaping him.

“Hoseok…” You whisper and he glances up, agony pouring out from him.

“S-She was better, Y/N.” He chokes out. “I thought it was all real. I thought I could take her out of there, bring her back home and everything would snap back into place again, but then it s-spread…”

You hug him tighter, squeezing your eyes shut.

“She was gone...” You complete, “…in the blink of an eye, like she never existed to begin with.”

Hoseok doesn’t respond, still within your arms and he knows he doesn’t need to. Not when you understand his pain so well, not when his feelings mimic yours, not when the gap in his heart that his wife left is so similar to your own, feelings of loneliness dispersing everywhere.

That night, you lie down next to Hoseok.

Your head rests against his chest as his breaths even out, his hand clasped onto yours. The tears have long dried but the anguish is still there, a deep furrow to his brows as he sleeps.

Peering upward, a soft smile lingers on your lips at the photograph he holds close to his heart.

You lean down, handing Hoseok a warm cup of tea.

His hands reach out in an instant, a kind smile on his features.

“Thank you.” You return it, before sitting yourself down on a chair opposite to him with your own cup.

It had been roughly a week since that night, and Hoseok looks brighter, almost more optimistic, if it were even possible. You weren’t sure after the second night passed, his eyes remaining swollen and a somber aura surrounding the man. You hadn’t left him alone for a split second, even as he continuously insisted he was alright, accompanying him on morning walks and holding onto his cold hand.

Hoseok had chuckled when you pushed him over, sliding into the opposite end of the bed and draping an arm around him. He smiles gently when you rest your head against his chest, listening to his slow heartbeat. His eyes turn tender when you dreamingly question about Euna, curious about her likes and dislikes, the way she spoke or the way she laughed, using him as your source to an individual you’ve never met, but feel like you know everything about.

And he does the same for you, asking for you to show him a picture of Namjoon one day. You pluck onto an album you had kept safely stored away, one Hoseok already knew was yours from how tidy it was kept and it was always situated next to your books, the very ones Namjoon would read.

Hoseok sees everything. Pictures of you and Namjoon smiling, much younger and with so much excitement dwelling in your eyes. Photographs of a new ring settled on your finger, bursting with so much happiness. Photographs of you crying, holding your nearly born son in your arms.

Hoseok sees your entire lifetime before his eyes, peeking at a question that has your eyes sparkling.

“Do you think we could have met?” He glances at the photograph of you in dark robes, a wide grin on your lips as you hold your college degree. “Like bumped shoulders at one point?”

“I don’t know.” You truthfully confess. You had lived such different lives, never once bumping into the man. It makes you wonder if you would have ever met him, having not gone to the old age home.

“We’re what? Five years apart?” He marvels, deep in thought, “What if you were revisiting college? And you just happened to stumble into me, freshly into college?”

You fondly smile at the sentiment. You can imagine it so clearly – a younger Hoseok, appearing curious with his surroundings as he glanced around, attempting to locate his classes. You, a couple years older, coming back to meet with one of your professors.

“You would be lost.” You state, playing into his fantasy. “I bet you would try to ask everyone around you for directions…”

“–until I encountered you, your confidence taking me away.”

You laugh, smile stretching. “I would wonder why you would be asking someone like me–”

“Someone who would be too stubborn to say no.” He grins and the image flashes before you can help it.

“E-Excuse me?” The man mumbles, appearing to be in his early twenties. “I’m supposed to go to the Art building, but I’m not sure which way that is.”

You turn in surprise, not having expected to be approached. In fact, your gaze was concentrated forward, attached to the office before you.

“O-Oh.” You’re caught off guard. His eyes are flickering everywhere and you muse he could really use the help. “Of course, it’s the black building just down on the right.”

“Thanks.” He kindly smiles, and turns in the direction of your instructions.

You widely grin, “It wouldn’t have been anything big. Just a couple of words exchanged.”

Hoseok halts, swiveling with wide eyes.

“Sorry, did you say something?” He ponders, and you softly shake your head.

“Don’t worry about it.” You mutter, “I do hope you find your class, Hoseok.”

He nods, peering at you in confusion. You watch as he departs, whispering underneath your breath.

“See you in a couple of years.”

Hoseok is leaning back in his chair, a soft smile on his lips.

“A tad unrealistic?” You were amused that he let you stray so far off, not halting the train of thoughts coming to you.

“A bit,” He chuckles, “but I didn’t want you to stop.”

You share a knowing look, holding onto your tea cups.

A soft knock resonates against the door.

Hoseok gets up first, gesturing for you to continue drinking your tea. You watch as he slowly pads over to the door, revealing a woman standing with a young girl before your eyes.

You recognize them immediately as a family that lived nearby, noticing them frequenting one of the homes during the summer.

The young girl looks to be roughly seven to eight years old, eyes flickering around and hands fidgeting. At the sight of her mother eyeing her, she speaks up.

“Um…m-my ball. It went into your garden.”

Hoseok softly smiles, leaning down to gently pat her head.

“Let’s go retrieve it, shall we?” He implores, and the little girl follows behind, slowing her pace to keep up with his steps.

You walk outside to the garden, standing next to her mother. Fondness spreads through you as Hoseok looks around with the girl, a tenderness to his eyes that has you smiling as he gives the ball back to you.

Her mother draws your attention. “I’m so sorry about this, I didn’t think it would end up here.”

“It’s quite alright.” You reassure, “Hoseok doesn’t mind either.”

“I’ve seen you around a couple of times.” She inquires, “Did you come here recently?”

You nod, “I wanted to move away from the city.”

She hums understandably, “That’s nice. Both you and your husband seem very loving.”

Your eyes flicker. It had been so long since you had heard such a statement, long having buried it with Namjoon when he passed.

“He’s not my husband…” You correct, and the woman’s eyes widen, like she hasn’t been expecting that response from you.

You pursue your lips. You truthfully, never had an answer. Not when Naree had accused you of replacing Namjoon, not when you would encounter the other neighbors and they would inquire about you, not when there was no envy on either one of your parts when Namjoon or Euna were mentioned, just understanding of the deep love you both still hold onto to.

Namjoon is your husband. He will always be, keeping a special place in your heart that no one else can ever fully take or replace.

Hoseok is your radiant sun.

His smile is comforting. His arms are warm. His presence feels so reassuring and makes you feel less lonely in this world that only has you left behind.

He's your solace – the embodiment of your pain and understanding at the same time.

“Hoseok…” You whisper, “He’s…he’s my partner.”

Through the thick and thin, through the laughs and the tears, through the comforting embraces and the anguished recollections. You are glad to have met him, to have experienced these new memories with him, and to have created a new path, one in which you will spend the rest of your life in together.

Hoseok glances up with a grin, the little girl holding her ball and giggling at something he said. His eyes lock on yours and it’s almost like he knows, he knows what is dwelling inside them.

He’ll always be your partner for eternity.

Time is the most valuable thing to exist in the world.

It can be a matter of a mere seconds, spinning away like loose strands without any control. It could be a matter of a few years, spanning across months at a subdued pace.

Time is so very valuable, and you’re grateful to have spent it with Jung Hoseok.

“Hoseok….”

It’s your voice, weakly calling out to him. He’s by your side within a matter of seconds.

“Y/N.” He whispers, a smile spanning on his lips with many lines creasing.

He’s gotten much older, the dark strands of hair turning completely gray, a deep hunch caving in his back more. He wears hearing aids on both ears, enough to still hear your low murmurs from your bed. His eyes have gotten weaker, a pair of glasses resting on the bridge of his long nose.

He still looks like the man you’ve spent so many years with.

And what years they were. You had basked in each other’s presence, being so utterly peaceful with him staying by your side. You weren’t lonely, you weren’t numb, you weren’t terrified anymore, you were simply content.

Even when your legs had started losing their ability. Even when your memory began to fade, panic settling in on not being able to recall anymore. Even when your skin paled with time and you had become bed ridden.

Hoseok held onto you. Hoseok reminded you, pulling out albums for you to see. Hoseok lied down with you, letting you rest your head against his chest. He coaxes and consoles you, keeping you in one piece even though the years were threatening to crumble you.

Even as he watches your chest slowly heave, voice growing weaker by the minute.

“Hoseok…” You croak. He’s leaning in right away, despite having machinery that allows him to hear. “T-Thank you…Hoseok….”

He chuckles, eyes glossed over. So many years had passed and you still had the need to express your gratitude

“I should be thanking you.” He brings up, “Thank you, Kim Y/N. For all these beautiful years.” He whispers, as if singing you a comforting lullaby “For letting me into your life and staying by your side.”

His voice cracks, but he still smiles.

“F-For letting this old man be your partner, for the rest of the time you had left.”

You slowly smile, and he squeezes your hand, like he knows you feel the same way.

“Hoseok….” You heave out, “I-I’m…I’m a little scared…”

“I’m here, Y/N. I’m here.” He whispers, leaning his forehead against yours and shaking in your grasp.

“I-I wanted to go….” You croak, “For so long….I-I wanted to see him….”

A low chuckle escapes you, “But not anymore.... strange, isn’t it….?”

Hoseok is sobbing, shudders escaping through his body. His hand is clasped around yours, eyes filled with water

But he keeps them open, wanting to encapsulate your last image into them.

“You’ll be okay.” He chokes out.

A warm smile graces your lips. It’s the most content he’s ever seen you, and it makes the center of his chest ache infinitely.

A moment of silence passes as Hoseok recollects himself, leaning back to gaze at you.

He calls out for you.

“Y/N?”

Your lips barely move, the shallow breaths leaving you all too soon. But you keep your gaze concentrated on him, letting him know you are still listening.

A tear manages to slip from Hoseok’s eyes, but he still smiles, like he always does.

“Say hi to your husband for me.” He whispers.

It’s the last thing you hear before a brightness filling your eyes, his hold on you being the strongest it’s ever been. It rushes in, pulling you away like a tide.

Your hand slips through his hold, and your eyes shut forever.

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