#silver / grey namjoon just Does something for me thank you so much

[jinstronaut]

get to know me : bts edition

4 / 7 hair colors → namjoon + silver ( cr. dwellingsouls )

[joontopia]

Forget Me Not | KNJ Oneshot

pairing: kim namjoon x female reader

genre: smut, slight angst, dashes of fluff, basically porn with a dollop of plot

au: exes to lovers, valentine’s day

rating: explicit, nsfw, 18+

word count: 20.3K

warnings: slight angst, assumed cheating, cursing, alcohol consumption, dry humping, some heavy petting, heated make out sessions, daddy kink, slightly bratty reader, dom namjoon, pet names, dirty name calling, slight degradation, cocksleeve kink, use of sex toys (vibrator), unprotected sex, condom got lost in the mail, cumshot, creampie, oral sex (m & f), blowjob, throat fucking, fingering, squirting, pussy slapping, clit slapping, spit play, namjoon got a big ol’ cock, nipple biting, marking, biting, overstimulation, orgasm denial, orgasm control, multiple orgasms, wall sex, some gentle choking

banner made by: @kimtaehyunq​

a/n: My day for posting has finally come! This fic is twice as long as I thought it was going to be. Big, big hugs and smooches to Maggie and Tina for beta and editing this beast at the last minute for me. You two are a lifesaver and I love yall so much. And thank you again, Maggie, for recruiting me to be a part of this valentine’s day collab! I had such a great time!

Beta readers: @kimtaehyunq​ @escapingreality4now​

This is a part of the Be My Bangtanvine Collab - go check out the other fantastic writers and their stories!

“So what’s your name, anyway?” The once cute, bleach blonde male asks you as he leans in closer, his breath reeking of the IPA he is nursing. You lean away from him in your seat at the bar, rolling your eyes as you grab your drink. “What does it matter?” you say taking a big sip. “You’re not going to remember it anyways.”

“What makes you say that?” He slurs, leaning even closer to you. His eyes half closed from drunkenness and a lazy smile on his face. You push him away from you gently, a soft huff coming from his mouth as his back hits the bar.

“Because I’ve told it to you four times already?” Your tone doesn’t match the smile you give him as he lets out a laugh. You take another sip from your drink, your eyes roaming around the bar again looking for your best friend, Tina. She invited you out tonight, with the promise of some much needed girl time. Guilt tripped you with the fact that she hasn’t spent much time with you outside of work or your apartment after your breakup six months ago. You were four episodes deep into a new TV show when she came barreling through your door, taking full advantage of the spare key you had given her weeks earlier for ‘emergencies only.’ She dragged you off the couch, going on and on about how “Enough is enough. You need to get out and be around people. Not sitting here moping over some stupid guy.” 

Hauling you into your bedroom, she dolls you up in the black, sparkly bodycon dress you bought for your anniversary dinner with your ex but never got to wear. Promised that tonight was just going to be you two girls. No boys allowed. No worries of running into a certain someone because “it’s not like he ever had the time for things like this anyways.” It didn’t take long until she was whisked off to the dance floor by some silver-haired beautiful man with the plushest lips you have ever seen. You willingly let him sweep her away. You didn’t have the heart to say no, not with the absolute lovestruck look in Tina’s eyes. 

Unfortunately, it left you alone at a crowded bar top, susceptible to being bothered by drunken bar patrons looking for an easy score. You first didn’t mind when this one came up to you. He seemed charming, up until the point he was asking for your name thrice in five minutes. Your nose crinkles as he leans back in again, placing a hand on your shoulder to balance himself as he almost stumbles forward on to you. “Come on, tell me your name. I promise I’ll remember it this time.” 

Rolling your eyes, you finish your drink, readying yourself for the long back and forth once you tell him you’re not interested. You place your empty glass on the bar top and brush his hand off your shoulder. Your eyes widen as you see your drunk intruder start falling forward from his loss of balance, only then realizing you should’ve made sure you had supported his hand on something else. You brace for impact, eyes closing shut while your arms are out in front of you as you wait for him to come crashing down. Hoping you’d be able to push him off of you in time before he takes you crashing to the floor with him. But the body weight never comes, only replaced with a deep, honey rich voice that you haven’t heard in months causing your eyes to snap open. There the owner of the voice stood, his arm out in between you and your drunken company, pushing the latter back towards the bar top and away from you. “N-Namjoon?” you sputter, completely caught off guard to see your ex-boyfriend standing beside you.

“Excuse me, but I think it’s about time you left her alone,” Namjoon says, his eyes narrowing at the drunken gentleman as the sides of his mouth turn up into a tight, polite smile. He feels taller than what you remember, towering over the other bar patron by almost half a foot. 

The drunken man looks between you and Namjoon, puffing his chest as he crosses his arm, trying to make himself seem taller than he really is. “Chill, dude. We’re just talking, having a good time. What are you? Her boyfriend or something?”

You shift in your seat just slightly, Namjoon noticing out of the corner of his eye as he clears his throat, moving to place his hand on the back of your chair. “Or something…” he says, his cheeks rosy-ing just a bit as he side-eyes you again, waiting to see if you were going to interject. You stay quiet, looking at him with wide eyes as you’re still trying to process the fact that he’s here in this bar with you. What is he doing here?  

He takes your silence as permission to continue, turning his full attention back to the other man. “Thank you for keeping my friend company while I was away. Now if you excuse us, we’re going to try and enjoy the rest of our night.”

The drunken man hardens his gaze at Namjoon for a moment, slightly swaying back and forth and you wonder if he’s about to lose his balance again. He breathes out, rolling his eyes as he scoffs at Namjoon, turning to walk away from the bar. “Whatever man,” he mutters, walking away and disappearing into the crowd. 

“Everything okay, Joon?” The bartender asks, having walked up shortly after the drunken man took his leave. 

“Yeah, man. All cool. Can you get us another round?” The Bartender nods, turning to start a new round of drinks for the two of you. As soon as he walks away, Namjoon turns to you, his cheeks rosy-ing once again as he lifts one of his hands, scratching the back of his head. “Uh, hey Y/N. Interesting running in to you here.”

“What are you doing, Namjoon?” You feel your face warm up with annoyance. Never once in the year that you were together did he ever come out to a bar with you. Always too busy with work to make it out with you and your friends. But now here he is, in front of you being treated as if he’s come here his whole life.

He chuckles nervously, his feet shuffling just a bit as he clears his throat. “What do you mean?” His seemingly innocent question makes your annoyance and frustration grow even more, and you try hard to hold back the bite in your tone.

“What are you doing? Here, just now. You hate bars.”  

“I don’t hate bars. I just never had the time for them.” His voice trails off at the end, the ghost of arguments past flashing before his eyes.

You scoff at him, rolling your eyes as you cock your head to the side. “Oh, what? And you do now? Work finally not keeping you so busy anymore?” The resentment dripping from your tone makes Namjoon squirm just a bit in his spot. You’d feel good about it, knowing how uncomfortable he was feeling right now, if it wasn’t for the little fact that he just saved you from a potentially embarrassing incident. You briefly scold yourself, telling yourself to at least show him some level of gratitude before biting his head off again. 

“Sorry, that was rude--” You’re interrupted by the return of the bartender with your drinks, placing them on the bartop as Namjoon turns to grab them. You take the brief break in his attention as a chance to calm and compose yourself. Knowing his sudden appearance didn’t allow you to react the way you wanted to after seeing him again for the first time in months. You let out a sigh, letting your shoulders deflate just slightly, taking you out of your defensive mood. You allow yourself to take a better look at Namjoon, trailing your eyes from the floor up to his face. You can’t help but notice how good he looks. He looks like he just came from a work meeting, wearing dark grey slacks and a whilte long-sleeve button up. The form fitting sleeves rolled halfway up his arms, showing off the toneness of them. “Has he been working out?” you think to yourself. You look back up at his face, his dark brown hair pushed back out of it, giving you a nice view of his jawline as he’s turning back around from grabbing your drinks.

He holds out the drink to you, your eyes now on his hand as it’s holding the glass in front of you. The way his long fingers are wrapping around the glass stirs something inside your groin. Memories from long-heated nights of the two of you together coming forth in your mind. Memories of the very same hand creeping up your body and wrapping firmly around your -- “Y/N?”

Namjoon eyes you curiously, an eyebrow quickly shooting up as he looks at you and you hope he’s not able to easily read your face to know what you’re thinking about. “Jesus, Y/N. Calm yourself,” you think to yourself as you mentally facepalm.

You clear your throat, your cheeks warming as you grab the drink from his hand and take a sip. “Thanks,” you mutter, clearing your throat again as you regain your composure. “And thank you for a minute ago. I didn’t think I was ever going to get rid of that guy.” You both chuckle. Namjoon’s dimples poking out as he smiles, nodding his head as he murmurs a “you’re welcome.” Your eyes flicker to his cheeks, a ghost of a smile on your lips as you take in the sight of his adorable features. You feel a flutter in your stomach, realizing how much you missed just being able to look at him.

“So…” you start, pushing your hair behind your ear. “What are you doing here?” you ask him curiosity sinking back in as the possible reasons start popping up in your mind. Is it work related? Did he quit? Or get fired? Does he actually have time to go out now? Oh God, is he here to meet another girl?

“Actually, I’m kinda here because of work,” he says, taking a drink of his beer. 

“Of course he is,” you think, your eyes rolling involuntarily, causing Namjoon to jump quickly into further explanation. 

“I’m out with a few people from work,” he spits out quickly, a nervous chuckle slipping past his lips at the end. “A couple of the guys asked if I wanted to go out with them a couple of weeks back and I thought it would be a nice change. That’s actually one of them over there, dancing with your friend.” He nods towards the dance floor and you turn just in time to see the silver haired dreamboat locking lips with your best friend. You turn back towards Namjoon as he continues, “I knew you liked going to places like this. Just wanted to see what I was missing.” 

You hum in response, taking a sip from your drink as you look at him. He’s staring right at you, eyes meeting yours as they glint with a deeper meaning. Could it be that he’s been just as miserable these last few months as you? “And how has that been going?” you ask him.

“Turns out what I’ve been missing is you.” You smile wide at his words, cheeks warming up as you look away. He looks down as you both let out a little laugh. 

“Well,” you say as you cross your legs in your chair, your foot now grazing the inside of his thigh. “Here I am.”

Namjoon’s eyes flicker down to your foot, his eyes trailing up your leg and growing wide as if he’s finally taking in the form fitting dress that you’re wearing. “Here you are,” he says with a smirk. “You look amazing.”

You’re not sure how it happened exactly. The events leading up to right now, how you agreed to meet Namjoon for brunch the night after seeing him again for the first time. The multiple drinks and shots you took with him more than likely the sole perpetrator.

One minute you’re still at the bar, drinking and laughing with your ex-boyfriend. Catching up on the last few months spent apart. Next thing you know, you’re thrown up against the brick wall in the back alley behind the bar. Namjoon’s one hand on your ass as the other has both your wrists secured above your head. Your own legs wrapped tightly around his waist to help keep you from falling. The rough bricks scratch at your exposed skin, but you hardly notice, your attention stolen by Namjoon’s tongue down your throat. The definite bulge in his pants grinding against your core takes any feeling of discomfort away. You don’t remember how long you two were like that when Namjoon pulls his lips away from tours, allowing the two of you to catch a much needed breath.

After the burning in your lungs starts to subside, you lean in towards him, trying to capture his lips into another kiss, only for him to pull away again. A little pout forming on your face, causing him to chuckle. 

“Wait, wait,” he says, his chest still expanding rapidly from his heavy breaths.

“What’s wrong?” you ask as he lets go of your wrist, your hands dropping to his shoulders as he unwraps your legs from around him. Still holding on to you as he helps you balance yourself on the ground. 

“Nothing, uhh…” he murmurs, rubbing the back of his head as he looks away. “This, um, just wasn’t exactly the way I had planned for it to go.” He lets off a nervous chuckle as he looks back at you and you smile at him. “You see, I had this whole scenario planned in my head of what I would do if I saw you again.”

“And having me pinned up against a wall dry humping me wasn’t part of it, I’m guessing?” You cock a brow at him, smiling when you notice his cheeks growing scarlet. 

“No, but I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t a nice surprise.” You both laugh as a cool breeze sweeps down the alleyway. You rub your arms, your body finally acknowledging the chilly temperature outside.

“I wanted to ask you out for coffee,” he says, his palms moving to rub your arms on instinct, trying to help keep you warm. “Wanted to get a chance to talk to you, ask for you to give me another chance.”

“Okay.”

He blinks at you, looking at you as if he was confused by your short answer before it hits him. “Okay?” he repeats, a smile growing on his face causing his dimples to reappear.

“To coffee,” you clarify. “There’s still a lot we need to talk about before I say yes to a second chance.”

And that’s how you found yourself here, walking into Namjoon’s favorite coffee place. The very one you avoided the last few months because you didn’t want to run into him. As you enter, you look around the cute little shop. Your face lights up with a smile when you see Namjoon already here, sitting in a corner booth with two cups of coffee on the table in front of him. As you approach, he looks over as if he sensed your presence, smiling as he stands up to greet you by giving you a hug and a kiss on the cheek.

“I’m happy you’re here. Kinda was a little worried you’d change your mind,” he says, sitting down in the seat across from you.

“It crossed my mind.” Namjoon’s eyes grow wide and you giggle, letting him know it was just a joke. You grab the drink in front of you as Namjoon smiles shyly.

“Two scoops of sugar, a pump of caramel and toffee nut flavoring with creamer on the side, right?” He asks, the question rhetorical, as he pushes a few cups of creamer towards you.

“You remembered,” you whisper, smiling as you stirred in some creamer to your coffee. He smiles, taking a sip of his own Iced Americano. You both sit there for a few minutes, neither one of you talking. The silence being broken by the waitress coming over to take your food order. Namjoon, once again remembering your usual order and you smile wide, saying a thanks as the waitress walks away.

“I’ve missed you, Y/N. I’ve missed this,” he says suddenly, catching you slightly off guard. You knew this was why you were both here, but you didn’t expect him to start the conversation so suddenly. “I really want to get back together.”

You let you a soft sigh, pushing a fallen strand of hair behind your ear. “I don’t know, Joonie.”

“Why not?” he asks softly, eyeing you intently as he gives you his full attention.

“We broke up for a reason, Joon,” you say as you look up to meet his eye. You see the adoration and the deep determination in his gaze. His deep, chestnut eyes pull you in as you get lost in them, almost making you forget the reasons why you broke up. Almost. 

You look away, the memory of your break up resurfacing. Your mind starts to wander to that early fall evening. Namjoon showing up to your apartment late from work. Too late for the dinner reservations you had made for your one year anniversary. You were already out of your dress, lying in bed in your pajamas when he came knocking on your front door. You had let him in, not wanting your neighbors to hear the argument that was sure to come. And came it did.

You had said something about being tired of coming second to everything with him. How he spent more time with work and not with you. Always going in early and staying late, never making time for you unless it was for sex. He countered with how important his work was to him, how you said you admire that about him when you first got together. How he was doing this to secure his future, a future that he saw with you. This was his passion, and he didn’t get how you couldn’t understand that. He didn’t get what the big deal was that night, simply forgetting what day it was. Told you that if it was that serious to you, if you really couldn’t put up with his shit anymore, to just break up with him.

So you did. The moment the words fell from your mouth, so did the tears. Namjoon just stood there in the middle of your living room staring at you. Tears still falling harder from your eyes as he turned, snatching his work bag from the floor and walking back out of your apartment, slamming the door behind him. No rebuttal, no attempt to fight for you back. He just left. No communication or to be seen again until last night.

“I know,” he says, his voice bringing you back to the present. ”I had a lot that I needed to work on. I neglected you, put more effort in my job than our relationship and I know it took a toll that night. I took you for granted.”

‘It wasn’t just that… That night was our --” you start softly before he interrupts you.

“Our one year anniversary, I know.” He lets out a huff and he rubs his face with his hands. You look up at him, blinking owlishly. “God, I’m such an idiot. I’m so sorry, Y/N. I realized it the moment I left and I should’ve turned back around. I should’ve fought harder to keep you.”

“You didn’t fight at all,” you state meekly, your tone just above a whisper. Namjoon looks down at the table softly nodding his head.

“I was an idiot. And too stubborn to know what I had.” You both sit there for a minute, staring at your own coffee drinks, not saying a word. You went over his words, happy to hear him admit the things he faulted in your relationship. A little flower of hope blossoming in your heart that just maybe you two could work things out.

“Why now?” you ask, breaking the silence. “What made you want to try again?”

“You remember the producer position at work that I wanted?” He looks up at you. You nod your head, remembering how he used to talk so passionately about that being his dream job. “Well, one of the producers left, allowing for a position to come available. I got it.” 

A huge smile grows on your face as you reach and grab his hand, not even realizing you had done it. “Congratulations, Joonie! That’s so awesome!” 

He smiles back at you, covering your hand with his other as he looks down where they are joined. “Thank you,” he says with a smile. “It was a bittersweet moment when I had gotten the news. Of course, I was happy when I got it, but I had no one to celebrate with. And the only person I wanted there was you.”

You feel your heart swell, your smile only growing bigger as you look at him. He gives your hand a squeeze, smiling back at you before continuing, “I realized that if I wanted you back, I was going to have to change. I want to be better for you.”

“It wasn’t just you who needed to change, Joonie.” You give his hands a squeeze back as he looks back up at you, his brow furrowing in confusion. “I could’ve been more understanding. Maybe we can work on it together.”

His eyes light up, growing wide for just a second as he sits up in his chair, leaning forward into the table towards you. “Yeah?” he asks, his tone dripping with hope and enthusiasm.

You giggle, smiling at his reaction. “Yeah. Let’s give it another shot.”

You spent the rest of the brunch date eating your own meals and talking. Outlining the issues you two needed to work on, setting rules and guidelines for trying again. The conversation carries over and continuing on your walk home Namjoon joins you on. Namjoon promises to make more time for you, you promise to be patient and a little more understanding. You also set the rule of no sex, at least until you both are confident that you two can make this work. The moment you state the rule, Namjoon lets out a whine, causing a giggle to escape your lips from his cute reaction.

“No sex?!” he exclaims, as you enter the door to your apartment complex causing an older couple to turn and give you two a scolding glare. “Not even fooling around?”

“No sex,” you say after shooshing him, giggling again as the older couple walk into their apartment. “Kissing is fine, but no sex. Not even fooling around.” 

“But if I recall, sex was never part of our problems.” Namjoon wiggles his eyebrows at you, leaning up against the wall as you make it to your front door.

“Namjoon!” You slap his arm, playfully glaring at him and scolding him as you dig for your keys out of your purse. 

“I’m just kidding! Kind off...:” he says, winking at you as you unlock your door. “Fine, no sex. I can do that. It’s worth it to prove to you that I’ve changed.” You flick on the lights to your apartment, placing your purse on the side table by the door as you turn to look back at Namjoon. He’s now standing in your doorway, leaning up on the door frame as he looks down at you, smiling. “So I guess I’ll call you later then.”

You give him a nod, once again finding yourself mesmerized by his presence and unable to speak. You never thought you’d be here with him again, having him drop you off at your doorstep after a date. He leans in towards you, his hand rising to cup your face as his lips meet yours for a soft kiss. Your body is electrified with the feel of his lips on yours and you feel yourself melt into his touch. He deepens the kiss just briefly before pulling away. You fall forward slightly, your lips still puckered as the chase after his, wanting more. Namjoon smiles, a knowing look in his eye as he walks backward away from you. “I’ll see you later, baby.” He doesn’t even wait for your response as he turns around, walking back down the hall and out into the street.

“Tease…” you mutter as you close the door behind you. Your fingers brushing your lips slightly as you smile, still feeling the softness of his lips on yours.

“You agreed to WHAT now?” Tina shouts as she follows you into the breakroom at work.  Eyes wide as she watches you pour yourself a cup of coffee before the Monday morning staff meeting, having just finished going over your weekend events after she had left you alone at the bar. “Are you out of your mind? Why would you agree to a second chance with him?” she asks, her loud tone causing passing coworkers to peak into the break room as they pass by.

“Can you chill out?” You say to her, walking past her and back out to the hallway. She follows you, walking side by side as you both make your way to the conference room. “He’s changed, Tina. He’s recognized the areas that he needs to work on and has promised to do so, together. Why shouldn’t I give him another chance?” 

You enter the conference room, finding two empty seats at the large oval table adjacent to each other and you both sit down. One by one, your fellow co-workers file in, filling up the table. “Fine,” Tina huffs, rolling her eyes as she leans back into her seat. “But I’m watching him. I won’t say I told you so, but I will be the first one to kick his ass if he breaks your heart again.” 

You give her a smile, taking a sip of your coffee as you wait for the meeting to get started, jumping just a bit when Tina sits up quickly and grabs your arm, smiling when she turns to you. “Oh! Remind me to fill you in on my weekend with Jimin. Over lunch. My treat.”

You snicker at her, wiping the little droplets of your coffee that fell on the table. “You owe me lunch for abandoning me on our girls night anyways. But not today. Namjoon is taking me to a cute little sushi spot near his office.”

“Wow, look at Mr. Work-a-holic finally taking a break from busy, busy schedule,” she mutters under her breath, followed up by a soft “Ow” from the light kick you give her under the table. 

“He’s trying, Tina,” you whisper to her as your boss walks in, seating himself at the head of the table and kicks off the meeting.

“Right, okay, sorry. I’ll give him another chance too.”

Lunch time sneaks up on you, too busy being nose deep into an article for the magazine you work for, putting in the finishing touches before sending it to your editors to get ready for the February Issue. Your phone buzzing on your desk alerts you to the time of day. You check it to find a text from Namjoon, announcing his arrival at the front of your office building. 12:30 PM on the dot. You lock your work laptop, waving bye to Tina as you place your phone into your purse and head to the elevator bay. Once down in the lobby you quickly walk outside, spotting Namjoon leaning up against a taxi waiting for you. You wrap your arms around his neck, greeting him with a kiss before he opens the car door for you, following you into the back of the cab.

The little sushi place he takes you to is delicious. Being your first time there, Namjoon orders a whole spread. Each roll consists of something you like, from tempura shrimp to avocado in the middle. Some rolls topped with eel. You eat your fill, feeling satisfyingly full once the two of you are walking out of the little restaurant. 

“What time do you need to be back?” Namjoon asks you, taking your hand into his as you walk down the street.

“Maybe not for another hour? I’m already done with my article, so I’m in no rush to need to get back.” You walk alongside him with a smile on your face, the feel of his hand in yours bringing you a comfort you haven’t felt in a long time.

“Would you want to stop by the studio with me then? I got something I want to show you.” You smile at him, nodding your head as he smiles back, quickening his steps as he pulls you toward his office building. 

Arriving at Namjoon’s work, you were excited to finally step into the world that had preoccupied so much of his time when you were together. You had been here multiple times in the year you were with him, coming here to drop off food for your overworking boyfriend. Never making it past the lobby desk until now. You follow him through the lobby, past the front desk and towards the elevator. You turn towards the long hallway you remember he would appear from during your prior visits when he instead guides you to the elevators, hopping on to an open cab and pressing the button for the 5th floor.

You pull your phone out of your purse, sending Tina a quick text saying that you might be late coming back to the office. After a few exchanges of where you were, she asks you to say hi to Jimin for her before you slip your phone back into your purse and turn towards Namjoon. “Since when did you move off the first floor?” You ask as the elevator continues to move upwards.

He smiles at you, a glint of excitement in his eye as the cab stops, the doors opening to the new floor. He leads you out of the elevator, his hand pushing gently on the small of your back. “That’s what I want to show you. Remember that promotion? It comes with some new perks.” He continues to lead you down the hallway and you look around, taking in the new scenery as Namjoon stops you in front of a closed door.

“Y/N!” You hear your name being called from the other end of the hall. You turn to look at the newcomer, a dark haired man jogging down the hall with his arms open towards you and Namjoon. His wide, heart shaped smile bringing an equally wide one to your face. 

“Hobi!” You giggle as he wraps you in a big bear hug, picking you up off the ground and spinning you around.

“It’s good to see you again,” you say as he steadies you back on the ground.

“Likewise! It's nice to see you and Joon together again. He’s been a real stick in the mud while you guys were apart.”

You let out another giggle as Namjoon glares at his co-worker, opening the door and guiding you in. “Thank you for that, Hoseok,” he mutters, following the two of you into the room.

You take a look around the room, various recording equipment litters the room. There’s a lone couch against the wall opposite a large desk fitted with mixing equipment and a computer. You watch as Hobi plops down on it, pulling out his phone as you continue to observe the room.  A guy around your age with mint colored hair sits in front of the computer and mixing equipment, headphones on as he’s bopping his head up and down to whatever is playing. You see the ‘Recording in progress’ sign lit up and realize he’s in the middle of recording someone. Namjoon closes the door behind him, walking over to pat the mint haired man on the back. The mint haired man looks up, his features growing into a gummy smile as he looks at Namjoon, taking his headphones off his head and pressing a button on the switchboard in front of him. 

“Ah, Joon. Just in time. Jimin’s finishing up one of his tracks for his debut,” the mint haired man says, standing to give Namjoon a quick hug before pressing another button on the switchboard and speaking into a mic, “Jimin, come on out.”

“Jimin’s in there?” You ask without thinking. Realizing you have yet to officially meet the man that swept your best friend away on your girl’s night out. The mint haired man and Namjoon look over at you and you realize you interrupted their conversation, causing your cheeks to flush slightly.

“Yeah, he is,” the mint haired man says to you. “Big fan?”

Hobi snorts from the couch, “Watch out, Joon. Might have some competition.”

You smile while you shake your head. “No, um, he’s kind of dating my best friend.” You watch as his eyebrows shoot up, nodding his head as Namjoon places his hand on his friend’s shoulder.

“Let me not be rude,” Namjoon says as he gestures between you two. “Yoongi, this is Y/N. Y/N, this is Yoongi. My coworker and fellow producer.” 

Yoongi reaches out to shake your hand, giving you another gummy smile as he addresses you. “Nice to meet you, so you’re the girl Namjoon has been lovesick about. Heard all about you. Nice to finally put a face to a name.” He gives Namjoon a nudge with his shoulder, the both of you looking at each other with matching cheeks as a door on the other side of the room opens up. A familiar silver haired man walking out, his unforgettably plush lips spread wide into a smile.

“Sup guys. Ah, Y/N. Good to finally meet you,” he says, walking over to you and giving you a hug. It catches you by surprise for a minute before you return it. Jimin breaks away from you at the sound of Namjoon clearing his throat, giving you a wink as he moves to sit by Hoseok on the couch.

“Anyways,” Namjoon says as he walks over to you, throwing his arm around your shoulders. “I just wanted to introduce you guys before I showed her my office.”

“You have an office now --” 

“Oh, Joojoo, I thought I heard you in here.” You were cut off by a tall, petite girl who just entered the room. The pencil skirt and blouse she was wearing a little too short and form fitting to be considered professional. You look at her, noticing how pretty she was and the way she was looking at Namjoon, all wide eyed and dreamy. You instantly become annoyed, too focused on the awful nickname she just used to notice the brief look of distaste on Namjoon’s face at the sound of it. You instinctively lean more into Namjoon, crossing your arms as the new girl continues to talk, barely aware of your presence. “Joojoo, I need help getting something down from the supply closet. Can you help me?” She coos while batting her eyelashes. Her eyes move from his face to the arm around your shoulder, clicking her tongue against her teeth as she looks you up and down. “Whose this?”

“Oh, Areum. This is Joon’s girl, Y/N. Y/N, this is our floor assistant, Areum,” Hobi jumps in, quick to the introductions with a mischievous smirk on his lips.

Areum looks at you, eyebrow raised in confusion. “Y/N. Like, your ex-girlfriend, Y/N?”

“We’re working things out,” you snap, wrapping one of your arms around Namjoon’s waist as he looks down at you, raising an eyebrow of his own. A ghost of a smirk hiding in the corner of his lips. 

“Whatever,” the girl mutters before turning to Namjoon again, an annoyingly bright smile adorning her face. “Joojoo, could you help me?”

“I got it!” Yoongi shouts, already moving past the group of you and out the door. Areum lets out a soft “Oh” as she turns to follow, briefly looking back at you and Namjoon before exiting the room.

Your lips twitch up in a smirk as you turn to look up at Namjoon. “So, what’s this office you were talking about?” 

“Yeah, Joon. Why don’t you show Y/N your office,” Hobi teases as he gets up from the couch, following after Yoongi and the office assistant. Namjoon sputters and you let out a giggle, grabbing his hand and walking out of the recording room. 

Namjoon regains his composure, leading you back down the hallway, Jimin following closely behind, taking the chance to strike up conversation. “So what do you guys say to a double date this weekend? Give us a chance to get to know each other and have some fun. Tina talks very highly about you, Y/N.”

“That sounds great. What do you think, Joonie?” You ask just as Namjoon stops in front of another door, digging a set of keys out of his pocket and unlocking it. 

“Yeah, that sounds great,” he says, flicking on the lights to his office. The three of you barely enter into the little space when Hoseok shows up at the door, looking straight at Namjoon.

“Hey Joon, looks like we need your help after all. Yoongi severely underestimated how high up this box was.” Hobi lets out a laugh as he walks back down the hallway. Namjoon turns to you, giving you a quick kiss on the forehead as he tells you he’ll be right back before slipping out the door way. 

You let out a little huff as soon as he’s out of sight. “Has she ever heard of a step ladder,” you mutter under your breath as you take a look around Namjoons office, his ever growing Kaws figurine collection decorating the shelves on his walls. 

You hear Jimin snicker and you jump just a bit as you had forgotten he was there. “We have a step ladder, actually. Areum, tends to misplace it a lot,” he says, air quoting around the words misplace it as he rolls his eyes. “She has the biggest crush on Namjoon. Tends to always need something from the top shelves just to have an excuse to talk to him.”

Your face contorts into a scowl, causing Jimin to laugh and throw his hands up in defense. “Don’t worry. Namjoon barely even notices. He’s always been wrapped up in his work. Or talking about you. Yoongi, however… Well, he has it bad.”

You nod a little, taking comfort in Jimin’s reassurance. He gives you a small wave bye as he leaves you alone in Namjoon’s office. You sit down in the empty desk chair, noticing a picture frame by his laptop. You pick it up, recognizing the picture to be one of your favorites of you and Namjoon. A cute selfie you took in the comfort of his apartment a few months into you two dating. You place it back on the desk, humming gently in content as you push the brief incident with the office assistant to the back of your mind. Reminding yourself that you promised to be understanding and you try not to dwell on if there was anything there that you would need to worry about.

Your first week back with Namjoon was nothing short of amazing. You were amazed and surprised by how attentive he is to you, fully prepared to expect him to still be busy with work, especially with a recent promotion. But, alas, he is keeping true to his promise so far. The two of you spent more time together in the past week than you did in the last few months you were together. The both of you have been making great progress with the things you both promised to work on. Holding true to the rules and guidelines, you had set out, the no sex rule included.

You’d be lying if you said it hasn’t been hard to not break that rule. Namjoon being right when he said that sex was never a problem between the two of you. It didn’t help that the both of you gained pure enjoyment out of teasing the hell out of each other. Between the gentle brushes of his hand across your ass or the strategic placement of your hand on his thigh when you’re sitting next to him, it is easy to get one another flustered. It is equally just as hard to keep each other’s hormones at bay. 

No other time have you two come close to breaking that rule than you have tonight. Laid out on your back on your living room couch, Namjoon on top of you. The both of you in the middle of a heated makeout session. His hand up your shirt while yours is on his ass, pushing him closer into you as he grinds his clothed bulge into your core. You know you should stop. No fooling around being part of the rules you both had set, but it all just feels too damn good to stop. Your living room is filled with the soft sounds of your shared moans, the movie Namjoon brought over for your night in playing softly but forgotten in the background. You both had opted for a night in instead of going out to dinner. Your planned double date on Saturday and the fact that you had to work late helping your fellow writers finish their articles playing a big part in the decision making. Namjoon had picked up takeout and a movie for the two of you, waiting at your apartment for you to get home to spend as much time as possible with you tonight before he would have to leave to go to sleep. 

What started out as an innocent foot rub after your dinner has speedily turned into a tickle fight. That very tickle fight quickly escalated to the situation you find yourself in now; Namjoon’s tongue wrestling with yours as he cups your breast with his hand, finding your nipple hidden by your bra and giving it a quick pinch. You let out a muffled moan, one he quickly swallows with his lips still on yours. You slide your other hand down, reaching in between you two to grab a hold of the button on his jeans. You almost have it undone when Namjoon suddenly pulls away from you, grabbing your wrist as he breathlessly asks you to hold on. He pulls his hand from out under your shirt and lets go of your wrist as he sits back on the couch, running his hand through his disheveled hair to try and put some of it back in place.

“We should probably chill out a bit. Don’t want to get too ahead of ourselves,” he says, scooting just a bit away from you to give you room to sit up on your side of the couch. You stay as you are, looking at him with a pout on your lips as he chuckles at you. “Besides, I probably should head out soon. Need to run into the office tomorrow before our date.”

He stands from the couch, holding his hand out to help you up and you take it, wrapping your arms around his neck as you stand up in front of him. “Why don’t you just spend the night? Leave for work from here in the morning?” you ask in between kisses. He chuckles at you again, grabbing your hands from around his neck and walking you to the door. 

“And break the rules you clearly set out for us? I would never,” he teases you, laughing at you as you let out a whine. “I’ll see you tomorrow baby. I’ll let you know when I get home,” he reassures you as he slips his shoes on and opens your front door. He turns back to you, slinking an arm around your waist to catch your lips in a deep kiss as he pulls you towards him. He releases your lips, leaving you breathless once again as he rubs the tip of his nose against yours. “And we’ll continue this later.” He smiles at you, giving you a wink and another quick kiss before releasing you completely and closing the door behind him. 

You let out a little huff. “Tease…” you mutter as you smile, shaking your head as you lock up the door before turning back towards your living room, getting ready to clean up and go to bed.

The double date with Jimin and Tina went better than you expected. The whole mini argument you had with Tina in her apartment as the two of you got ready proving to be inane. Her plans of giving Namjoon the third degree to check to see if he’s really changed never came to fruition, much to your relief. The moment the two boys arrived at her doorstep to pick the both of you up, all thoughts of interrogation were forgotten, her attention solely on Jimin and Jimin alone.

The steakhouse you attend for dinner is delicious. The drinks you all share help keep the conversation light and entertaining. You are happy with the way work has stayed away as a topic for the evening. The only exception was the mention of Hoseok’s mixtape release party that is taking place the following Wednesday. When leaving the restaurant, talks about needing to do this again came up. You mention a new Italian restaurant that just opened up down the street that you all should try next, if you guys were ever lucky enough to get a hard to book reservation. 

Namjoon holds your hand the entire cab ride back to your apartment. Not much conversation taking place due to the numerous glasses of wine at dinner making you feel warm and sleepy while leaning up against him. You nearly doze off before you make it to your apartment, Namjoon nudging your shoulder slightly to let you know of your arrival. He’s still holding your hand as he walks you to your door, making sure you were safely inside before letting go. He stands in your doorway, smiling at you as you brace yourself against the wall to balance as you take off your heels.

“What are you smiling about?” You tease him, crossing your arms as you walk back towards him after removing your footwear.

“I’m just happy to be doing this with you again. Walking you home, making sure you get here safe.” You can’t help the smile that graces your face from his confession, leaning up on to your tiptoes to place a quick kiss on his lips.

“So,” he starts, still smiling at you as he hovers over you in your door frame. “Hobi’s release party is this Wednesday.”

“So I heard,” you cooed, your heart warming at the flash of his dimples from his smiling growing wider from your teasing.

“I was wondering if you wanted to go with me,” he asks you, pausing momentarily before continuing, “As my date.”

You smile wider, leaning up to give him another kiss. “I thought you’d never ask.”

The next few days flew by in a breeze. You weren’t able to see much of Namjoon other than lunch breaks or a quick dinner date as he was helping Hobi and the company prepare for the release party. You and Tina spent your free evenings shopping for the perfect dresses. Finding two cute matching bodycons with keyhole cut outs and heels to match. Wednesday evening comes before you know it. Namjoon had ordered a car to pick you and Tina up, him needing to be at the venue early to help get everything set up. Not wanting you to feel rushed, he arranges for your transportation to drop you off right at the venue doors, allowing you and Tina to enjoy a full red carpet experience for the release party.

The party venue is located at one of the nicest hotels in town, taking place in one of the ballrooms fitted with a DJ booth, a mini dance floor, and a well stocked open bar. Namjoon is there to greet you at the door, catching the eye of every woman (and man) walking by him with the way he’s fitted in his well-tailored suit. His hair is pushed back, styled out of his face. You can’t help the smile that grows on your face as you look him up and down, walking towards him. Knowing that this beautiful man is all yours. The moment he notices you walking towards the ballroom, his smile matches yours, if not, brighter. His mindset also matches yours as he shamelessly looks you up and down as you grow closer.

“Hey Handsome,” you say to him, throwing your arm around his neck as you give him a kiss.

“Good evening, baby. You’re looking exceptionally beautiful tonight.” He kisses you back, slipping his hand around your waist. 

“How nice of you to say, Joonie. I didn’t think you noticed,” Tina teases from beside you. Namjoon rolls his eyes, giving you another kiss before taking your hand in his. 

“You look exceptionally beautiful as well, Tina,” he says, gesturing his hand towards the inside of the ballroom. Tina gives him a thank you before winking at you and walking forwards into the ballroom, now on a mission to find Jimin. You giggle, following behind her and Namjoon as he leads you toward the bar.

After grabbing a round of drinks, Namjoon walks you and Tina over to your reserved table for the evening. Jimin is already sitting down, snacking on a small plate full of the various finger foods being served around the event. You barely sit down yourself when the petite office assistant, Areum, pops up out of nowhere, instantly clinging herself onto Namjoon’s arm. The dress she’s wearing contains too many cut outs and too much sheer covering to your liking, the lack of actual fabric barely classifying it as a dress instead of lingerie. Her heels, too tall to be considered comfortable to walk in, let alone stand in, you know we’re chosen to accentuate her barely covered (and annoyingly perky) ass. She doesn’t pay you or anyone other table occupant any mind, her focus only on Namjoon, much to your annoyance. Batting her eyelashes, she addresses Namjoon, her tone too high pitched to be tolerable, making the use of her god awful nickname for Namjoon sound even worse. “Joojoo, the DJ is having issues with connecting his equipment. Can you help us?”

He sighs, giving her a polite smile as he responds, “Sure.” She let’s go of his arm and you swear she gives you a smirk before turning and running off. You glare at her retreating backside. An involuntary scoff escaping past your lips. Namjoon hears it, turning to you with a questioning brow raised in your direction. A smirk, once again, dancing on the corner of his lips. 

“You okay, baby?” He asks, trying to hide the smile threatening to break out on his face, always finding it cute when you show little signs of jealousy. 

“Nothing, she’s just very… touchy.” You take a sip of your champagne, trying to wash away the bitterness in your mouth. Namjoon chuckles at you as he leans down to hover over you, one hand braced on the table and the other on the back of your chair to steady himself.

“She’s just friendly, baby,” he says, leaning in closer to rub his nose on the tip of yours. 

“Yeah, to you,” you mumble, Namjoon’s shit-eating grin finally breaking loose on his face as he laughs. 

“You’re cute,” he says, placing a kiss on your forehead. “You got nothing to worry about, baby. I only have eyes for you.” He gives you a long, soft kiss on your lips before standing back up. Telling you he’ll be right back, he disappears into the growing crowd toward what you assume is the direction of the DJ booth. 

Feeling eyes on you, you look to your left to see Tina observing you, a mischievous smirk on her lips as she meets your gaze. You let out a sigh, jumping to a defensive tone as you try and predict what she’s thinking. “It’s a work party, Tina. It’s expected that he’s going to have to do some work.” 

She shakes her head slowly at you as she leans forward, placing her elbow on the table and propping her hand under her chin. “Oh no, I’m wondering when you’re going to put that in its place.” Her reference is vague, but you know exactly what, or rather who, she’s talking about. 

“I’m not. I don’t need to. Joonie says there’s nothing to worry about so there’s nothing to worry about,” you state matter-of-factly. Hoping your tone sounds convincing enough to end her “hoe-be-gone” plotting before it starts. You just don’t know who you were trying to convince more: Tina or You. 

“If you say so,” Tina sing-songs, leaning back into her seat and into Jimin. Jimin gives her a quick peck on her temple and smiles at her. 

“You little instigator,” you hear Jimin whisper to her before catching her lips in a real kiss. You roll your eyes slightly, smiling softly as you scan the now crowded ballroom, trying to spot Namjoon amongst the sea of people. 

You contemplate for a minute on whether you should actually say something to Areum. You know you’ll be able to control yourself and your tone. Know you’ll be able to conduct yourself as polite, but firm. She just seems like the type to you that would cause a scene when she doesn’t get her way and you don’t want to be involved in anything that might ruin Hobi’s special night. Besides, you promised to be more understanding and trusting Namjoon on this falls under that umbrella. So you take another sip of your drink, swallowing down the sweet tasting liquid, hoping the bitter taste of your growing anxiety goes down with it.

The rest of the night followed the common theme of Namjoon being swept away by various staff members seeking his help. It never failed that once he found his way back to you, someone else was there a few minutes later to take him again. He apologizes to you every time, his kisses growing harder and deeper with each departure. You reassure him each time that it is fine, and really it is. You are enjoying yourself, spending the majority of the night with Jimin, Tina, and various alcoholic drinks. Near the end of the night, Namjoon was finally able to spend a little more time with you. Grabbing you from your reserved table and walking you over to meet his boss and to say bye to Hoseok before you leave. 

As you approach the two gentlemen, Hobi’s eyes light up the moment he sees you. 

The second you reach him, he’s wrapping his arms around you in a big hug, placing a quick peck on your cheek. His heart shaped smile on full display as he addresses you, the scent of alcohol heavy on his breath as he talks. “Y/N! Thank you for coming tonight. What would I do without my favorite fan?” he slurs, his rosy cheeks pushing into his eyes as he continues to smile at you.

“I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, Hobi,” you coo, giggling as you back out of his hug. As you stand back in your place next to Namjoon, you turn to the other man, Hobi and Namjoon’s boss, and introduce yourself. 

“It’s nice to finally meet you, Y/N,” he says. “Sorry, I’ve been pulling your boyfriend away from you most of the night.”

“He’s no--” you start before quickly redirecting your response. You feel Namjoon’s shoulders deflate just slightly beside you and you feel a twinge of guilt. He isn’t your boyfriend. Not yet, at least. But isn’t that exactly what you two are working back towards? “It’s okay,” you start again. “He’s been a hot commodity tonight and a hard worker. I wouldn’t want him any other way.”

Namjoon looks at you, a quick ‘blink-and-you'll-miss-it’ flash of surprise colors his features before the corners of his lips turn upwards into a smile.

“A hard worker he most certainly is. I’m going to have to also apologize in advance for the next week. We’re in the finishing stages of our next trainee’s debut and going to need all hands on deck for it.” The boss gives you a big smile, probably thinking it would lessen the blow of his news.

“Yeah, Jimin’s debut is next!” Hobi chimes in, his voice carrying a little too loud due to his intoxicated state.

“That’s right,” their boss confirms. “I promise to try and have him free by Valentine’s day.” The boss lets out a hearty laugh, slapping Namjoon on the shoulder before walking away. Excusing himself to thank the other guest for coming to the event.

“Valentine’s day…” you hear Namjoon mutter softly. You turn to look up at him, noticing his wide-eyed look as he stares into space. You grab his arm, looping your hand around it and lightly squeezing, bringing him back out of his head. His eyes focusing on you.

“Hey, it’s okay. You’ve been busy and I forgot it was coming up, too. We got a week, we’ll figure something out,” you try to reassure him, forming a soft smile on his face to try and show that it was really okay. 

“Yeah,” Namjoon responds, his tone apprehensive as he rubs the back of his neck. Taking in his demeanor, the little seed of worry from earlier starts to blossom slowly in your mind. You open your mouth to say something, ask him if he’s okay when the call of your name breaks interrupts you. Looking behind you, you see Tina approaching you and Namjoon.

“Hey, you ready to go? Jimin had our car pulled around up front for us,” she asks, stifling a yawn behind her hand.

“Yeah, sure,” you say slowly, turning your head to look back at Namjoon. The unspoken question on whether you guys need to talk lingering between you. It goes unanswered and any signs of apprehension or anxiety are gone from his face. His prize-winning, charming smile is the only thing you see.

“Go ahead. I have to stay and help clean up anyways. I’ll call you later, yeah?” He gives you a quick kiss, waving bye to Tina as he walks away, disappearing into the thinning crowd. 

His departure doesn’t sit right with you. Something about his behavior seems off and it only adds to your growing anxiety, much to your annoyance. You try to shake it off, following Tina out of the ballroom and into the lobby. Stopping abruptly, you realize you’ve forgotten something, calling out to Tina as you turn back towards the ballroom. “Hey, I forgot my phone and purse on the table. I’ll meet you in the car.”

Running back in to grab your purse, you notice Namjoon standing over by the bar talking to an older gentleman. You take a step towards him, planning to ask him if everything was okay before heading back to the car, only to stop once the older man steps to the side out of the way of a server. Revealing the annoying little office assistant clinging to Namjoon’s arm. You freeze, watching as Namjoon shakes the older gentleman’s hand before the same man places a kiss on top of the little leech’s head and takes his departure from the group. Namjoon, smiles down at Areum, his dimples adorning his cheeks and you immediately feel sick. You turn around, walking swiftly out of the hotel before they’re able to see you, reaching the car and hopping quickly into the seat next to Tina. She glances over at you curiously before looking back at her phone. “Everything okay?” she asks you as she begins typing away, probably sending a text to Jimin.

“Yeah,” you reply. “Just… I thought it was about to rain.” You give her a forced chuckle, hoping she doesn’t sense the lie in your tone. She hums in response. The car starts to pull off into traffic. You turn, looking back at the hotel as it fades into the distance. Hoping fiercely that what you think you saw and what was actually going on is just a big misunderstanding.

You barely hear from Namjoon the rest of the week. The weekend being no different. The “all hands on deck” call to finish up Jimin’s mixtape for his debut is the only explanation you receive from Namjoon to excuse his absence. Majority of your communication is exchanged over text messages, but even those were slowly growing few and far in between. Your daily lunch dates are replaced with specially picked Uber eats orders sent to your office. The sentiment is there but you couldn’t help but feel like he is avoiding you. The scene of Areum clinging to Namjoon’s arm replaying over and over in your mind. “Who was that man?” and “Why was Namjoon smiling at her after meeting him?” were the main questions plaguing your mind. The constant thought of maybe you DO have something to worry about causes a big negative shift in your mood that you’re unable to hide the longer you go without talking to Namjoon.

Tina notices the change in your attitude at work on Monday. Not-so subtly mentioning how your negative energy was killing her vibe. You grumble an apology and she spends most of the day trying to help bring you out of your sour mood. 

“Maybe he really has been busy. His boss did say he was going to be taking up a lot of his time this week.” You let out a huff, knowing what she was saying was more than likely true, but it still didn’t make you feel any better. Noticing no change in your mood, she continues. “If it helps to know, I haven’t been able to see or talk to Jimin much, either. We can only hope that they’re making good progress and they’ll be done soon. That way we can get our men back,” she chirps, her voice going up at the end to try and drive the point of positivity with her words. 

You feel bad, but the news of her not hearing from Jimin just as much does make you feel better. At least you knew you weren’t the only one and made the idea that they’re both just really, really busy easier to accept as the truth. You look over at her and give her a small smile, “Thank you. For trying to help me feel better. It’s just… I can’t help but feel like this is all too familiar territory.” Among other things. You follow up in your head, not wanting to voice it out loud and carry on that conversation here at work.

“I thought you said you were going to try and be more understanding,” Tina states, her comment catching you by surprise.

“Wait, what?” you stammer, blinking owlishly at her as she rolls her eyes at you. She sits up straighter in her seat as if she was preparing to give you a presentation.

“You were right, Y/N. Namjoon’s changed. He’s trying. Even I’ve been able to see that,” she says to you, her voice taking on a reassuring tone. “You promised that you would be more patient and understanding. Now’s the time to show that you’re trying too.”

You let out a sigh. You knew she was right and didn’t really want to admit it. You did promise to be more understanding and you definitely weren’t doing that right now. That realization does nothing to fix your mood. Only changing the reason why it was still so sour.

Tina notices the change, knowing you swapped to beating yourself up. A smile breaks out on her face as an idea blooms in her mind, reaching over and grabbing your hand in excitement as she details it to you.

“Let’s have a Galentine’s Day this weekend. The boys will probably still be busy, and if they finish up early and are able to spend time with us again, we can cancel it. Easy peasy.” She looks at you, her eyes begging you to say yes as her excitement courses through her. As if her hold on your hand was a conduit, you feel her excitement transfer to you. The infectious happiness in her smile breaking through your negative demeanor and causing a smile to form on your face. You couldn’t find it in you to turn down her offer. Her squeal of excitement rings throughout the office the moment you tell her yes. 

The thought of not having to spend Valentine’s Day alone does perk you up a little. The background chatter of Tina planning out your Galentine’s day helping you get through the rest of the work day. Come clock out time, you head out of the office and make your way towards the train for home. You feel your phone buzz, alerting you of a new text message. Checking your notifications, you see that it’s from Namjoon. His name and the context of the tweet bring a smile to your face. His short text of “Miss you” with the kissy face emoji gives you a small burst of motivation to keep the promise that you had made a few weeks earlier. “Patience and understanding. You got nothing to worry about,” you tell yourself, sending back a matching message to Namjoon before slipping your phone back into your pocket.

The rest of the week drags. The still brief only-over-text conversations with Namjoon and Tina’s absence from the office due to a sinus infection being two things that have contributed to the week feeling like it’s taking forever and a day to move along. 

Friday morning comes and you already feel an instant boost of happiness when you see Tina at her desk as you walk into the office. You skip to your desk, placing your computer bag down and taking out your laptop as you strike up a conversation with your best friend.

“Good morning! And welcome back! So I was thinking… There’s this cute little candy shop over on Cherry Lane that we should order some sweets from for our Galentine’s day.” After not hearing a response, you look up from your desk. Tina’s brow furrowing in confusion as she looks at you. “What’s wrong?”

“Didn’t Namjoon tell you?” she asks, her question making the anxiety you’ve been pushing down all week start to instantly crawl back up your throat.

“Tell me what?” you respond slowly, pulling your phone out to see if you might have missed any phone calls or text messages from Namjoon. Nothing.

“Jimin said they finished everything up on Wednesday. The mixtape is done.” You feel the color drain from your face. Tina’s eyes grow wide as she notices and quickly adds on to her news. “But maybe he meant HE was finished with everything. Joon and Yoongi probably still have things to finish up on the production end.”

You nod your head meekly. Forcing yourself to breathe in and out as you try not to jump to conclusions and hope that her assumption is right. “Yeah, maybe.” Your voice comes out squeakier than you like. A brief flash of pity shows in Tina’s eyes as she gives you a soft smile. Clearing your throat, you straighten up in your chair, plastering a fake smile on your face as you start on your work. “No, you’re right. He’s probably just finishing up the rest of his part. I’ll probably hear from him later today.” 

Tina nods her head slowly, turning back to her computer as she gets back to work. You struggle to maintain your smile throughout the rest of the day, doing your best to not to show a break in your mask every time Tina snuck a quick glance your way.

The end of the workday finally arrives and still no word from Namjoon. You skip out of the office the first chance you get, waiting for Tina to have walked away from her desk so you could sneak out without her noticing. You knew she would ask about Namjoon and it wasn’t a conversation you were really wanting to have right now. Walking towards the subway, you decide to stop at the Chinese restaurant along the way to pick up some takeout, not really in the mood to try and fix something at home. After placing your to-go order, you take a seat in the lobby, scrolling through your phone when you hear someone call your name. Looking up from your phone, you’re surprised to see Yoongi standing in front of you, having just exited the bathroom on the other side of the lobby. “I thought that was you. Picking up some food for you and Joon?”

“Ah, no. Just me.” You smile back. “Are you heading back to the office? This was a long way for a dinner break. This mixtape must be working you two into the ground.”

Yoongi shakes his head, the slightest hint of confusion painting his features. “Actually, I live around here. Just grabbing a bite to eat with some friends. We actually finished up on Wednesday. Didn’t Namjoon tell you?”

Your eyes go wide for a second as you feel your heart drop straight to your stomach. You force a closed lip smile on your face, trying to fight back the anger and frustration rising in you. “Yeah, right. Sorry, must have slipped my mind.”

Yoongi goes to say something else, only to be cut off by the restaurant host calling out your name, announcing that your to-go order was ready. You jump up from your seat quickly, grabbing your food from the host and turn to rush out the door. “It was good to see you, Yoongi. Have a great night!” You run out the door before he can respond. Once again trying to avoid an uncomfortable conversation revolving around Namjoon.

The moment you make it around the block, you stop right above the subway entrance. Grabbing your phone out of your purse, you quickly dial Namjoon’s number, taking deep breaths in and out of your noise to try and calm the boiling anger inside of you. The phone rings twice before the call is picked up. You’re ready to start your onslaught of the many questions that you have the moment he speaks, but the voice you hear at the other end knocks the breath straight out of your lungs. The perky, high pitched voice unmistakably belonging to the one person you would have never thought to be answering Namjoon’s phone. Areum. “Hello, Joojoo’s phone.” Her sickening sweet tone makes your stomach churn and you take in another deep breath to keep yourself from vomiting.

“Where’s Namjoon?” You applaud yourself for how level you keep your tone, not wanting to let her know that the very fact that she answered his phone bothers you.

“He’s busy. Can I take a message?” God, you really don’t like her.

“Just let him know that his girlfriend called,” you say, emphasizing around the word girlfriend.

“Ex-girlfriend. But I’ll let him know. Bye bye now.” She hangs up before you could say anything else. The abrupt ending and her emphasis on the word Ex not helping your growing irritation. You toss your phone back into your bag and continue on your way home.

You don’t look at your phone the whole subway ride home. Not daring to take it out of your bag until after you make it home and finish eating your Chinese. Pouring yourself a glass of wine, you finally retrieve your phone from your bag, noticing the one missed call and the three text messages from Namjoon. 

Namjoon: Hey, Areum said you called. Everything okay? Namjoon: Y/N? Baby, you okay? *Missed call from Namjoon* Namjoon: Call me back when you get a chance.

You take a deep breath before typing out your response, repeating “patience and understanding” like a mantra in your head. You tell yourself to give him the benefit of the doubt. Give him a chance to explain. He hasn’t given you any reason to doubt him. At least not until now.

You: Hey, sorry. Was eating dinner.  Namjoon: Hey, it’s cool. Everything okay? You: Yeah, I didn’t mean to worry you. Just hadn’t talked to you today. I miss you. Namjoon: I miss you too baby.

You pause for a moment. Contemplating how you want to continue the conversation. You wanted to call, not leave the interpretation of your tone through your text message to be misconstrued. But you feel like he wouldn’t give you a full explanation if he had anyone around him. 

You: Why did Areum answer your phone? Namjoon: She did? I don’t know. I had left it on the desk when I ran to the bathroom. What did she say? You: That you were busy. What was she doing with your phone? Namjoon: We were working on something in the recording studio. Guess I left my phone in there when I had run to the bathroom. Please don’t think too much into it.  You: I’m not. Just curious. Is she helping with Jimin’s Mixtape? How’s that going? Namjoon: Uh, yeah. It’s going well. Hoping to have it down by tomorrow night. I should probably get back to working on it. I’ll call you later, baby.

You read his last text over and over. Your body starts to shake as angry tears begin to spill from your eyes. He lied. He just told you a flat out lie. You don’t even respond back, throwing your phone on the coffee table as you fall onto the couch. You curse at yourself, feeling like such a fool for believing Namjoon had actually changed. He hasn’t changed at all. If anything he picked up more bad habits along the way. Adding a liar and a cheat to your list of reasons why you two won’t be able to work things out. “Well, not a cheat,” you think to yourself. “It’s not like we were back to being boyfriend and girlfriend.” The single thought makes more tears spill down your cheeks as bitterness coats like an undissolving film on your tongue. You turn to your side, curling up into yourself on the couch, the soft sniffles from your crying slowly lulling you to sleep.

Saturday goes by in a blur. You spent the whole day moping on your couch, ignoring every call or text that came your way. You once again cry yourself to sleep. The two glasses of wine and the Valentine’s themed rom coms playing on the TV helping contribute to your tearful state. You wake up Sunday morning after your crying session the night before. Determined to not waste another day moping over your failed relationship, you jump in the shower, giving yourself a quick pep talk as you refuse to let some stupid boy ruin the rest of your weekend. 

Getting dressed, you slip on a pair of sweatpants and a tank top, forgoing a bra. You aren’t planning on leaving to go anywhere anytime soon. Perfectly content with spending your day alone in your apartment with trash tv and a bottle of wine. You continue to ignore Namjoon’s calls and texts throughout the day. Turning your ringer on silent and placing it face down on your kitchen countertop. The subtle buzzing noise from the vibrations is not as aggravating to your nerves like the noisy ringtone.

It’s just nearing 6PM when you open your fridge, pulling out the unfinished bottle of Moscato from the night before when you hear your phone buzz again. Your curiosity as to why he has called and texted you more in the last 24 hours than he has in the last week gets the best of you. Snatching your phone off the countertop, you see Namjoon’s name flashing on your screen. You swipe to answer the call and bring the phone up to your ear.

“What?” You bite into the phone, the current mood you’re in does not allow you to feign any sense of civility for the start of this conversation.

“Wow. Hello to you, too. Everything okay?” Namjoon speaks cautiously on the other end, worry and confusion evident in his tone.

“Everything’s peachy,” you say, popping your ‘p’ as you pour yourself a glass of wine and take a big gulp. “How’s the mixtape going?” You know Namjoon is able to feel the sarcastic bite to your words, but he doesn’t call you out on it. Continuing on as if he doesn’t notice.

“About that. I wanna show you something. Can you meet me at the studio? And, uh, wear something nice.” His easy tone and his blatant disregard for your obvious annoyance angers you. You take another big sip of your wine and decide to not hold back your frustration any longer.

“Why don’t you show Areum,” you respond, your voice doing a terrible mimic of hers when you say her name.

“What?” Joonie questions. “Y/N. What are you on?”

“You tell me, Joon,” you bark into the phone, your voice starting to raise in volume as you lean back against your kitchen counter. “She’s the one you’ve been spending all of your time with lately. Considering Jimin’s mixtape was finished Wednesday.”

You hear him curse underneath his breath, letting out a sigh before he speaks. “Who told you?”

“Does it matter?” You wait, allowing for time to see if he would at least speak up to try and defend himself. Throw out whatever random excuse to talk his way out of this. But you’re only met with his silence. Every wordless second from him pushes a dagger into your heart. Your chest constricts from the pain and it makes you want to hurry and end the phone call right then and there. “Anyways, I can’t come and meet you. I have company. For a Galentine’s Day.”

“Y/N, I know Tina is out with Jimin. Just please come and see me,” Namjoon says, his tone beginning to sound exasperated.

“I have other friends, Namjoon.” You don’t. Not really. At least not anyone that you’d be hanging out with outside of a work function, but he didn’t have to know that. Nor did he need to know about your canceled Galentine’s plan. 

“Come on, Y/N. You’re being ridiculous,” Namjoon huffs into the phone, his tone scolding. You can picture how he looks right now. Fingers pinching the bridge of his nose as he tries to control his simmering frustration with you. “Just please come meet me at the studio and I’ll explain everything.”

“No, but I agree. It was ridiculous of me to think you’ve changed. It was ridiculous of me to even try and give us another chance.” You pause your speech as your voice begins to crack. Taking a deep breath in and out of your mouth before continuing. “Now, I have to go. The very deliciously ripped male stripper has arrived. Have a fun life with Areum.”

“For the last time, nothing is going on… Wait did you say a fucking strip --” You end the call, cutting Namjoon off midsentence. A sly smile stretching across your face as you turn off your phone. The smile only lasts for a few seconds until the realization hits. The fact that you and Namjoon are once again ‘no more’ sinks in as quickly as your heart sinks to the bottom of your chest.

Grabbing the wine bottle off the counter, you pour yourself another glass as you walk to your living room, plopping down onto your couch.

You must have dozed off sometime after you finished your last glass of wine. The loud knocking on your door ripping you from your wine induced nap as you’re quickly sitting up on your couch. Your head starts to spin from the quick movement. You stand up, grumbling under your breath that you’re on your way as you walk to the door, unlocking and wrenching it open. “Can you cut it out?” You yell before even looking to see who the crazy visitor was. The moment your eyes focus on the obsessive knocker, they grow twice in size, your mouth dropping open just as wide. “Namjoon?!”

There in your doorway, dressed in the same button up and slacks from the bar weeks before, stands your ex boyfriend. Jaw clenched as he storms into your apartment, throwing the bag he is holding on to your couch as he takes a look around before letting out a scoff. “You cheeky little brat. You lied about the stripper just to make me angry, didn’t you?” 

Your face flushes with anger at his accusatory tone. You, the liar? He���s really going to point that finger at you? “Seriously?” you screech, slamming your front door in frustration before walking up to him. “YOU are going to scold ME for lying? How about you explain why you lied about you and Areum before you say ANYTHING to me about lying.”

“Nothing is going on between me and Areum!” He yells back, the growing frustration evident in his tone. The top two undone buttons of his shirt gives you a peek of the red flush growing up his chest and neck from his anger.

“I saw you at the release party with her. I saw the way you had smiled at her as she was clinging on to your arm,” you bark back, blinking back the tears threatening to spill from your eyes.

“What are you talking about?” His questions coming out through a disbelief laugh.

“After you thought I left. I came back in to grab my purse and I saw the two of you all close and personal while talking to some man.” You cross your arms, waiting to see the “oh shit” look flash on to his face knowing that he’d been caught. But it doesn’t come. Instead, he lets out a sardonic laugh, shaking his head as his hands move to rub his face.

“That was Areum’s father. He owns that Italian restaurant you’ve been wanting to try. She was introducing me to him so I can secure us a Valentine’s Day reservation. You know, for tonight!”

Your mouth drops down into an ‘Oh’ before you quickly shut it. That explains the night of the release, but it doesn’t answer for his behavior this last week or the fact that she was with him Friday night. “Then why lie to me about the mixtape? Why have you been spending so much time with her at work?” Your voice is softer, but the underlying hurt is still evident in your tone. 

“I promised her father to help Areum create some demo tracks in exchange for him squeezing us in for a reservation,” he says, dropping his hands from his face to look at you. He takes in your teary expression, his shoulders deflating slightly as he softens his own town before continuing his response. “I just wanted to do something nice for you. And the pressure to try and get Jimin’s mixtape and her demo done before tonight made me tunnel vision on just that.”

You don’t say anything. You stand there just looking at him as he leans up against your couch, guilt creeping into the pit of your stomach. When you don’t say anything, he takes it as a chance to continue. “I thought I had shown you up until then that I’ve changed. I thought I could trust you to be patient with me. That you’d be more understanding.” He looks away from you at the end of his words, clenching his jaw as he looks down at his feet.

“Wow,” you breathe out, not able to think of anything else to say. You both stand there for a few minutes in silence, neither one of you looking at each other as you take in everything he said. It dawns on you that Namjoon wasn’t in the wrong here. Not really. Things could’ve been handled better by him but the same goes for you. 

Things were going so well. You had lost yourself in the comforting warmth that came with having him back in your life. The bliss and happiness from experiencing his instant change in attention to you and your relationship overshadowing any thoughts of doubt that existed in your mind, practically making them appear nonexistent. You start to wonder if, in the back of your mind, you were trying to look for something he was doing wrong. Your underlying fear of failure jumping into action the moment anything wrong exposed itself. Latching on to your subconscious and leaking negativity and doubt into you like a poison. Knowing it was your fault that the night he had planned for the two of you was ruined, you knew it was up to you to try to fix it. To try and turn it around. And you have a small inkling of just how you could do that.

“I’m sorry, Joonie,” you say to him as you take a step closer, leaning in with your hand on his chest to give him a quick kiss. He turns away from you just slightly, jaw still clenched as you place a small peck on his cheek. You feel terrible, knowing you should have given him the benefit of the doubt that he wasn’t reverting back to his old ways. That he was really trying to prove to you that he changed. You place another kiss on his cheek, following it up with a few quick kisses on his neck that you feel make him shiver. Your lips twitch up into a smile, knowing you’re breaking through his cold demeanor. 

Suddenly, an idea pops into your head. A name he loved that you called him, one that you used to your favor to help get you out of trouble. You make your way up to his ear, nibbling on it just slightly before you whisper seductively, “I’m sorry, Daddy.”

You feel his body stiffen as you trail your hand down his chest and to the front of his jeans. Your palm barely grazes his growing bulge when he grabs your wrist in his hand, snatching it away from him causing you to back away in surprise. He wraps his other arm around you, his palm pressing at the small of your back to keep you close to him. Your eyes flicker to his and you let out a small gasp as you meet his hooded gaze. The beautiful swirls of cinnamon and honey that paints his irises are gone, disappearing behind a dark, seductive shade of lust. Falling deep into the dark depths of his lustrous gaze, you barely notice the smirk he gives as he leans in towards your ear. 

“Oh, no baby. It seems like someone has forgotten her manners.” The deep timber of his voice sends shivers down your spine, straight to your core. You feel the wetness of your arousal leaking from you and you involuntarily rub your thighs together to try and find some relief as he continues the seductive assault on your ear. “Only good girls get to call me Daddy. Disobedient little brats call me Mr. Kim.” He pulls back just slightly away from you, his dark eyes meeting your gaze once again. “Now what do you have to say for yourself?”

You cock your head to the side, licking your lips before you give him the most innocent smile. “I am so, so sorry, Mr. Kim.”

Namjoon narrows his eyes at you. His dark orbs piercing into you as he clicks his tongue against his teeth. “You know,” he sneers, pushing himself off the back of your couch. Still holding on to you as he walks you a few steps backwards. “You’ve been acting like a real brat lately. I guess that’s something about you that will never change, hmm?” 

He lets go of you, his hands moving to unbutton his shirt as he steps away from you, turning to walk around your couch. You take a step forward to follow him, stopping in your tracks when he raises his finger at you. He wags it back and forth, making a tisk noise as he continues his way around the couch. “Nuh-uh. You stay right there until I call for you, brat.” 

The deep, domineering drawl to his voice has your knees weakening. A fresh gush of arousal seeps out of you, pooling in your panties as you continue to rub your thighs together. Still searching for some sort of relief. You know if you were to look right now, you’d bet your underwear would be almost completely soaked. The way the cotton fabric is sticking to your lips a clear indication that your guess is right. 

You watch as Namjoon finishes unbuttoning his shirt, leaving it on but open as he stands staring at you with the couch being the only thing between you. He reaches down, placing his hand on top of his growing bulge. He starts moving his arm back and forth, slowly palming himself as if to taunt you. Teasing you with every slow stroke he takes up and down his long, clothed length. His dark orbs scour your entire body. You feel your body tingle as your skin grows hot from his piercing stare. The feeling of hot flames of lust licking at your every nerve ending as his hungry eyes graze over your body. Slowly tracing every dip and curve of your standing figure. You bite your bottom lip, trying to stifle a needy whine that threatens to escape. The verbal reaction, betraying you, rumbling up your throat and slipping past your lips. His eyes flicker up to the subtle movement. His pupils dilating with want at your feral sound. The tension in the air thickens. Your hand twitches from the need to touch him; your mouth beginning to water from craving his taste. Your legs feel restless, the urge to close the distance between you two cause your knees to gently buckle. The need to wrap your legs around him, to push him deep inside you growing stronger by the second. 

Namjoon cocks his brow at you. Silently daring you to move before he calls for you. Testing your resolve, your patience, as he continues to stroke himself. You knew this game, loved it. It was one you two played many times before in the year you were together. You knew if you behave, play by his rules, there would be a pleasurable payoff for you in the near future. “Good girls get rewarded,” he once purred into your ear. The memory of past earnings sends a shiver down your spine. But with the way he was looking at you, the anger from your argument still fresh on his mind, you know you would have to work for your reward. Your punishment for misbehaving would come first. The idea of receiving a punishment from Namjoon for the first time in months excites you. The walls of your pussy fluttering and clenching around nothing with just the thought of what he has planned for you. You would never admit it to him, but sometimes you enjoy the punishment a lot more than the reward. 

Satisfied with your obedience so far, Namjoon smirks at you. Turning his back to you as he sits down on the couch, digging into the bag he threw on to it just moments earlier, taking something out before pushing the bag off the cushion. The bag hits your living room floor, the remaining contents making a noise as they knock together. “Did he bring a bag of toys with him?” you think to yourself. Your thoughts are soon cut off by the sound of him calling out to you, “Come here, baby.” 

Your legs move on instinct, your body just a slave to his voice the moment he ignites your carnal desire. You move slowly around the couch, standing in front of where he sits as he continues to stroke himself through his pants. You don’t sit down, no matter how badly you want to straddle him. The position he’s in is the perfect one for you to be able to grind down onto his member. The command is only to come to him. You know doing anything more before he says will just add on to your punishment. The waking brat in you tells you to do it anyways, but you don’t listen to her. Not yet. 

Namjoon watches you through his hooded gaze, his eyes roaming over your body until they stop at your chest. Your perk nipples visibly straining through the thin fabric of your tank top. He licks his lips, his voice deep and raspy as delivers another command. “Strip, now.”

You do as you’re told, slowly slipping your sweat pants and panties off at the same time. You take your time standing back upright. Kicking your discarded clothing off to the side as you grab the bottom hem of your tank top. Slowly moving it up your torso inch by inch. “Don’t tease, baby,” Namjoon growls, his dark eyes shooting up to yours as your walls clench again from his warning. 

You smile innocently, pulling your tank top up just a little faster. You let the bottom hem catch under your breast, causing your tits to bounce free once you finally lift your tank top over your head, throwing the item up and over Namjoon’s head. You continue to stand, reveling in the way Namjoon devours your curves with his eyes. He meets your gaze once again, taking his hand off his length and placing on the arm of the couch. “On your knees. You understand what to do from there. Right, brat?” He punctuates his words. Eyes never leaving you as you sink to your knees, your hands rushing to free him from the confines of clothing. You grasp the top of his undone pants and boxers. Namjoon lifts his hips just slightly, allowing you to pull his clothes down. His long, thick dick breaking free and slapping against his abdomen. 

Your mouth instantly begins to water again. You forgot how big he was. Your eyes trailing up his impressive length, refamiliarizing yourself with the long veins that decorate his beautiful cock. The large mushroom tip, angrily colored red as drops of precum leak out. The need to taste him intensifies. You waste no time in taking him into your grasp. Your small hand wraps around the base of his cock, fingertips no where near touching due to the absurdity of his thickness. You slowly start pumping him, gathering each drop of precum as you reach the top to help lubricate your hand going back down. Namjoon lets out a humor content, eyes still hooded as he watches you stroke his dick. You lean forward, looking up at him through your lashes as you roll your tongue around his tip. You hear his breath hitch, not giving him a chance to catch his breath before you take him into your mouth. You move your head up and down, starting out with shallow bobs as you get accustomed to his length. Taking him in deeper with each pass until you feel his tip graze the back of your throat. 

Being out of practice, you gag slight on reflex the moment you feel him touch the back of your throat. A deep moan rumbles through Namjoons chest as his eyes flutter close. His hand moves to your hair, gathering it into a makeshift ponytail as you start to move faster. “Fuck, baby,” he groans, his hips starting to rut up, matching your pace. His groans motivate you, urging you to take him in deeper, faster. Your throat relaxes as his tip moves past your gag reflex. Namjoon starts guiding you with the hand in your hair, slightly pulling up and pushing down rapidly to quicken his pace. You let him take control, bracing your hands on the couch as your apartment fills with the obscene sounds of Namjoon fucking his dick into your mouth. You feel a messy layer of spit forming around your mouth, mixtures of drool and precum dribbling down your chin as Namjoon continues to pump his length into you. You start to gag again, your lungs burning with the need for air.

Out of nowhere he slams his hips up into you, shoving half his length down your throat. Hand firm on the back of your head to keep you in place. Your eyes start to water. A single tear escaping down your cheek as you close your eyes, concentrating on breathing through your nose to try and catch a much needed breath. You feel Namjoon’s cock twitch deep in your throat. You swallow, the sounds of his appreciating deep groans shooting straight down to your core. Another gush of arousal leaking out of you and you feel it drip down your thigh and on to your floor. Namjoon asks you to do that again through a breathy moan and fulfill his command. Receiving a slurred, “that’s my good girl” as he starts moving your head up and down again. You preen under his praise. His words sparking a fire in you and you take back control of the pace in which you suck his dick. Moving faster and taking him in as deep as you can with each pass. A slew of curses fly past Namjoon’s lips as he clenches your makeshift ponytail tighter.

 “Slow down baby or you’re gunna make me cum. I’m not ready yet,” he moans trying to pull up on hair to take back control. You ignore him, bobbing your head faster before you hear a growl roll through his chest. Namjoon yanking you off his dick by your hair as you let out a whine. “I said slow down, you little brat,” he growls, his chest moving rapidly up and down as he tries to catch his breath. You look up at him, a smirk on your lip as you lick around your mouth, gathering up every drop of his salty taste that still lingers. Before you can swallow, Namjoon reaches for your face. Pulling down the corner of your mouth, causing a pool of your precum mixed spit to dribble back down your chin. “You’re just my filthy little cockwhore, aren’t you?” He chides and you hum in approval. 

He releases your hair and face, leaning back into the couch and taking his length back into his hand again as he passes out another command, “Turn around, come sit on my dick.” His abrasiveness only further turns you on, hopping up off the floor quickly and turning your back to him. He quickly removes the remainder of his clothing. Tossing his pants and shirt over the couch to join your previously thrown top. He grabs your waist with his free hand, guiding you down in his lap as he positions himself at your core. He pauses your descent, rubbing his tip teasingly between your slick lips as he holds you up. You let out another whine, trying to push yourself down onto him as you speak without thinking. “Don’t tease,” you whine. You feel him move his tip away from your entrance, not allowing you a second to try and figure out where he went when you feel a harsh slap land on your pussy. You cry out, the sensation a mixture of pain and pleasure. “You don’t get to give the orders tonight, brat,” he growls into your ear. 

Once again repositioning himself at your lips, resuming his teasing back and forth strokes. You whimper in need, trying so hard to be patient, not wanting to give him anymore reason to lengthen his teasing you. As if he heard your inner plea, he stops his tip right at your entrance, slowly lowering you down onto him. Your mouth drops open in a silent moan, eyes closing shut as you feel the slight sting from the stretch of his large size. The hand you braced on the arm of the couch slips, causing you to fall slightly into Namjoon’s lap, taking more of him in. He lets out a deep moan, the vibrations from his chest rumble on your back, causing another wave of arousal to leak from you. Allowing the last few inches of Namjoon’s absurd length to slip in you until he’s buried to the hilt inside you. “Fuck, I’ve missed this tight little cunt,” he groans and you sigh in satisfaction. A small wave of relief flowing through you now that you have him inside you once again. 

A minute passes by as you both sit there not moving; Namjoon’s grip on your waist making it hard for you to move. Your frustration starts creeping up again and you feel your clit pulse with need. You grind down ever so subtly in his lap, trying to create some sort of friction. Your unapproved attempt doesn’t go unnoticed. Namjoon’s hand coming down on you once again, this time the harsh slap landing on your clit. You cry out again, the sting from the slap still lingering but it’s like your body doesn’t even notice, the action only making you grow more wet.

“Impatient little slut,” Namjoon huffs under his breath as he picks up a blue silicone object and slips it on to his finger. He presses a button near the bottom, a faint buzzing sound from the now vibrating silicone ring following shortly after. He presses his covered finger to your clit, still keeping his cock motionless inside of you. You let out a low moan as the low vibrations lick at your little bundle of nerves. Namjoon makes small, slow circles around your swollen bean as he leans your head back with his freehand. He nips at your earlobe. Sweat forming across your brow as he continues his slow circles. A subtle tension forms like a slow coil in your core. The burning need of your growing orgasm, faint but it’s there. It only adds to your frustration, the need to beg for more resting on the tip of your tongue. Namjoon nips at you once more before whispering into your ear, “This little thing has three settings. The more you behave, the higher it will go. Now, are you going to be a good girl for Daddy?” 

You nod your head frantically, words escaping you as you try to focus on the low vibrations tickling your clit, trying to find a way to increase the pressure without moving. Namjoon moves the vibrator off you, quickly replacing it with another slap to your clit. You cry out again, your walls clenching around his length causing a low moan to crawl up his chest. Namjoon presses the vibrator back on your clit, still buzzing at the lowest setting. “Use your words, brat,”he commands through clenched teeth. “Now,” he asks again, “are you going to be a good girl for Daddy?”

“Y-yes, Mr. Kim,” you stammer, your body starting to shake for the need of just more. Namjoon’s free hand trails up your stomach and cups your breast. He takes your hardened nipple between two fingers, rolling it before giving it a pinch. You let out a choked moan as he chuckles in your ear. “That’s my good girl,” he purrs before clicking the button on the vibrator, bumping it up to the mid level as he presses steady circles into your sensitive bean. You can’t control the wanton moans that fall from your lips. Your thighs start shaking in pleasure as the coil in your pit grows tighter, more of your juices leaking onto Namjoon’s cock and down your thighs. You feel your insides start to flutter, the walls of your pussy clenching around his length ever so often. You hear him let out a soft moan each time, his cock twitching inside of you. You lean back against him, arching your back as he keeps up his steady circles on your clit; showing no signs of his finger growing tired. Your head drops back on his shoulder as your eyes flutter shut. You slowly start rolling your hips forward, pushing your clit harder into the vibrator on his hand. The coil in your pit grows tighter, rolling your hips faster as Namjoon kisses your neck. Sucking red welts into your skin as he twirls his fingers faster, pressing the button on the toy and putting it on its highest level. Both of your breaths start to quicken. You feel your impending orgasm right at the precipice of release, all thoughts leaving your head. The only thing barely pulling your focus off chasing your release is Namjoon’s breathy groan in your ear, his velvety baritone pushing you closer and closer to the edge. 

“You gunna cum, baby?” he rasps, meeting each roll of your hips with his own. You nod your head, your mouth falling open as you feel your orgasm creeping up your body. You feel a rumble roll up his chest, a dark chuckle slipping past his lips as you feel his free hand wrap around your throat. “Well. that’s just too damn bad.” 

He rips the vibrator away from you as he stops the roll of his hips. You start to whine in protest only for no noise to slip past your lips from the hand around your throat tightening ever so slightly. You feel his breath on your ear, tears forming at the corner of your eyes from the pain of your orgasm slipping away. “Disobedient whores don’t get to cum,” he bites into your ear, releasing his hand from your throat as he grabs a hold of your waist. You barely regain your breath when he starts fucking up into you ferociously, selfishly chasing his own release. You feel your orgasm rapidly build back up, shutting your eyes as you concentrate on its warmth. You try to force the knot inside of you to snap, feeling yourself getting closer and closer to your goal as Namjoon shifts his hips. The tip of his cock at just the right angle to hit repeated strikes to the rough patch inside of you. You can taste your release, Namjoon’s pace and precision bringing you right to the edge before he rips you off of him, falling back onto his stomach. You cry out from the sudden loss, your walls and clit pulsing painfully from the departure of another missed orgasm. Strings of his cum shoot up from his twitching length, coating your legs and stomach with his release.

He loosens the grip on your waist. You slid your body off of him and on to the vacant part of the couch. Your legs still quiver as your back meets the soft cushion. Namjoon looks over at you with hooded eyes, his chest heaving as his cock begins to soften to a semi-hard state. The corner of his lips twitches up into a smirk, causing his dimple to appear just briefly as he moves to crawl on top of you. He hovers over you, his face parallel with yours as he touches your face with his hand, wiping away the tears still clinging to your eyes. “You took your punishment well, baby,” he coos, closing his eyes as he places his forehead against yours, rubbing your cheek with his thumb. “Such a good girl,” he murmurs, catching your lips in a slow, deep kiss. 

You move your lips in tandem. Namjoon lowers himself on to your body, grinding his rehardening cock against your core. He swallows your moans, taking the opportunity to slip his tongue between your lips. Your movements become more frantic. Namjoon licking into your mouth as he continues to rut into your pelvis, your kissing turning into nothing but tongue and teeth. He pulls away, a string of spit connecting your lips as you both come up for air. He sticks his tongue out, cutting the string as he wraps it around his wet appendage. Pulling it back into his mouth, his eyes darken with lust once more as he peers down at you. “Open,” he commands through gritted teeth. 

Your eyes widen slightly, sparkling with anticipation as you open your mouth wide. You stick your tongue out, waiting patiently for whatever he has to give you. After a quick suck in of his cheeks, he forms a ball of spit from his lips, pushing it out with his tongue. It’s slow in its descent down to you. It lands perfectly on your tongue and you quickly pull it into your mouth, swallowing it down before sticking your tongue back as if asking him for more. His eyes light up with mirth, leaning in to place a quick kiss on your lips, trailing more quick kisses down your neck and to your chest. He kisses each of your nipples before settling on one, rolling his tongue around the hardened bud before lightly sucking. You arch into him, his face being smothered by your ample bosom as he continues to suck. 

Sneaking his hand down in between you, he cups your heat. Tracing the outsides of your nether lips as you let out a light gasp. You ground down into his hand, silently begging for him to give your more. Your walls and clit are still throbbing, aching for the not one, but two denied orgasms. He releases your nipple with a pop, briefly grazing his teeth across the surface as he peers up at you. “Tell me what you want, baby.” 

“Please let me cum, Daddy,” you whine, your tone embarrassingly high from need. You don’t have to wait long for him to answer your plea. He gathers your neverending leaking arousal on two fingers. Slipping both inside of you at once, easily able to reach knuckle deep due to your level of wetness. He pumps them in and out of you slowly, taking your other nipple into his mouth as he starts to pick up his speed. It’s not long before the knot beings to reform inside of you, your hips starting to match his pace as you fuck yourself onto his fingers. You let out another whine as he bites on your nipple, taking the opportunity to also slip a third finger into your pussy. He pumps them into you faster, curling them ever so often as he finds the sensitive spot inside of you. Your thighs start to quiver as your toes curl as you reach the edge of your release. Your inner walls begin to flutter, warning Namjoon of your impending orgasm. He curls his fingers again, the well timed graze across your rough patch is enough to snap the knot inside of you. Namjoon’s name falls from your lips like a mantra. Your orgasm washes over you in waves as he slightly lessens his pace, helping you ride out your pleasure as long as possible.

At the first sign of you coming down for your high, Namjoon releases your nipple. He resumes his previous pace with his fingers, quickly moving further down your body and taking your swollen clit between his lips. Your hands shoot down into his hair as he begins to suck. You pull at him, overstimulation causing your body to react on it’s own and try to push him away. He releases your clit, leaning up just far enough to land another slap on your pussy. Another choked cry escaping from your throat. “Behave,” he snaps. The one word the only thing he says to you before taking your bud back into his mouth. Feeling your walls begin to tighten again, he fucks into you faster. He curls his fingers with every thrust into you, flicking his tongue against your bud between different pressured sucks. An unearthly screech rumbles up your throat as your second orgasm hits you fast, harder than the one you experienced just a few moments before. Your gushing release forces Namjoon’s hands out from inside of you. Your juices splashing onto his chest as he releases your clit, moving down just a little lower to your clenching hole. You let out a moan as he runs his tongue between your lips. Obscene slurping sounds ringing throughout your living room as he laps up your juices, drinking down every drop like a man starved. 

Oversensitivity kicks in again. You push at his head, your body barely able to put any force behind it as it still tries to recover from the back to back bliss. Namjoon releases you from his mouth, chuckling at you as he wipes his mouth with the back of his hand. Evidence of your release still dripping from his chin as he moves back up your body to kiss you. He slips his tongue into your mouth, wrapping the muscle around your’s, painting it with the leftovers of your release. The taste of your arousal re energizes you, sucking his tongue between your lips to taste yourself even more. Still kissing you, Namjoon maneuvers your legs around his waist. He breaks the kiss, murmuring for you to hold on. He stands up off the couch, lifting you up at the same time. You let out a playful squeal as you throw your hands around your neck to keep you from falling. His hands are under your ass as he carries you towards the hallway leading to your bedroom. He kisses you as he walks, his hand groping your ass as he balances you with each step. His cock, nestled between your pussy and his abdomen, twitches with arousal from your continued moans.

He barely makes it to your closed bedroom door before pushing you up against it. You use the hard surface to support yourself, leaning back into as you grind your core on Namjoon’s cock. Your slick lips coating his length with your arousal as he ruts up into you, matching your movement. He leans in for a kiss and you catch him off guard. Catching his plump bottom lip between your teeth, biting it every so softly as you suck on it. Namjoon letting out a choked moan as you let it go. He pushes you further into the door, using the extra support to allow himself to position his dick at your entrance. “You think you can cum for me one more time, baby?” He asks you through a smirk, his slightly taunting tone poking at your inner brat, coaxing her to come out and finally play.

“Of course I do,” you state cockily. “The real question is can you make me cum one more time. Baby.” Namjoon lets out a deep growl and you feel the vibrations shoot straight to your cunt. Mixtures of adrenaline and excitement burning inside you as anger sparks like a flame in Namjoon’s eyes. He slams his thick rod to the hilt inside you. You let out a strangled moan from the sudden intrusion. Your fingernails digging into his shoulders as he pushes off your door. He starts fucking up into you. Gravity brings you down harder on him as he bounces you on his cock. 

“Next time, I’m gagging the little bratty mouth of yours,” he growls. He makes a quick grab for the doorknob, opening the door and stumbling into your room and towards your bed.

Namjoon is still speared inside you as he drops you both onto your bed, scooting you up the mattress until your head meets your pillow. He grabs you under your knee, lifting it up and into your chest, allowing him to fuck into you at a deeper, more delectable angle. “This pussy was fucking made for me,” he grunts. Sweat coloring his brow as he continues plowing into you. His balls slapping your ass each time he drives himself to the hilt inside of you. Your hands grasp at the sheets, your eyes rolling back into your head as you feel your orgasm growing once again. Wanton moans fall from your lips with every delicious stroke of his cock against your velvety walls. Your pussy is still sensitive from your previous two orgasms, slight oversensitivity kicking in but it only heightens the pleasure. You open your eyes, your lids fluttering from the pleasure as you blink to focus your vision on Namjoon. The street light peeking through the window falls on his face, allowing you to see him, eyes closed with his mouth dropped open, losing himself in the pleasure that is you. As if he feels your stare, he opens his eyes and peers down at you. His pupils are blown with lust yet his gaze brims with so much love and adoration as he continues to stare at you, causing a warm comfort of matching affection to start to bloom in your chest.

Dropping your knee, he slows his thrust. Changing to grinding deep into you as he moves his hands to cup your face. Kissing you deeply, he rests his forehead on yours again, speaking to you softly between labored breaths. “You know you’re the only one I want like this. Or like anything. I only want you.”

Your lips spread wide in a smile, your hands release their grip on the bed sheets, moving to the back of his head. You bring him in for another kiss before returning his sentiment. “I feel the same way, Joonie,” you huff out softly. “Now fuck me.”

Namjoon’s lips break into a quick smirk before pressing a rough kiss into yours. He pushes himself back up. A hand on your waist and his other pushed up against your head board as he starts deeply thrusting into you at an unrelenting pace. Your hands claw at his back as you arch up into him. The sensation of him striking your g-spot quickly brings another orgasm into fruition. A delicious warmth pooling in your core as you feel his movements start to stutter. “I’m close, baby,” he confesses through gritted teeth. His voice is strained as he tries to hold on just a bit longer to his release. Breathy whines asking him to ‘Don’t stop’ the only thing you're able to say in response as you creep closer and closer to the edge. He moves his hand on your waist between you, finding your clit with his thumb and rubbing it in quick circles. “Come with me, baby.” He only lasts a few more pumps into you before he’s driving into you deep, tip pressed firmly into your rough patch as he loses himself to his release. You’re quick to follow him, that last thrust the last push you need to send you over the edge. His seed spilling into you in never ending spurts, filling you up to the brim as your pussy clenches around him. He collapses on top of you, the rhythmic pulses of your walls continuing to milk him for all he’s worth, soaking up every last drop of his release.

You both lie there, chests moving rapidly up and down as you both try to catch your breaths. Namjoon's softening cock still nestled inside of you as you lightly trail your fingers up his spine. After a few minutes, he leans up, pulling himself out of you as you both wince from the loss. The mixture of your combined release starts to slowly leak out of you, dripping onto your bedsheets. He rolls to lay beside you, sliding his arm under your shoulders to pull you into him. The stickiness of your skin from your labored sweat feeling slightly uncomfortable on his, but you don’t care. Still wrapping your arms around him, your head on his chest as he rests his chin on you.

“I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have ignored you like that. Or lied about why I was staying late. I just really wanted to surprise you and I’m terrible at keeping secrets,” he says, nuzzling his face into your hair as you scoot in closer to him.

“I know, Joonie. And I’m sorry, too. I should’ve given you the benefit of the doubt. I promised to be more understanding and I didn’t do that.” He loosens his hold on you, allowing you to lie back on the bed, still facing him.

“Then let’s start over. Try working on things again. This time, as boyfriend and girlfriend,” he asks, smiling down at you as you smile back at him. Propping up on an elbow, you raise your head up and catch his lips in a deep kiss. His smile while kissing you back lets you know that this was an acceptable enough answer. Breaking apart, you lay back down as he moves to trail kisses across your shoulder. “I brought a whole bag of things to use on you, and I barely got to dive into it. Just another thing that didn’t really go as planned,” he says with a sigh, propping his head on his hand as he looks down on you. You glance at the clock on your bedside table before turning back to Namjoon. “The night’s still young,” you purr, trailing one of your fingers down his chest. “How about you spend the night, and I’ll let you use the whole bag on me twice.” 

Namjoon grins wide, mischief coloring his eyes as he maneuvers himself back on top of you. “Deal.”

© All rights reserved under @joontopia​ - do not copy, repost, modify, edit, or translate any of my work without my direct consent. This tumblr is the ONLY place my fics are posted.

[arcticguk]

santa baby | knj

❅ pairing, au, warnings: kim namjoon x reader, fluff, allusions to smut, angst, emotionally and verbally abusive parents, swearing, fake dating au, best friends to lovers au, christmas au

❅ précis: you ask namjoon to be your pretend boyfriend for the holidays.

❅ word count: 4,667

❅ part of my holiday drabble series

❅ a/n: pls lmk if u need me to tag anything extra! i put stuff in the warnings, but do not hesitate to tell me if it’s not enough. also we’re gonna ignore the fact that this fic is so much longer than any of my other xmas ones :)

“Namjoon, please?”

“No.” He says firmly, shoving another spoonful of noodles into his mouth. “If this is the only reason you invited me to dinner, I’ll stop coming.”

You snort, loudly. “Like that’ll ever happen. You can’t cook for shit.”

He frowns, setting his fork down beside his near-empty bowl. “And if I do this for you, what will I get in return?”

“Besides my lovely friendship?” You smirk, earning a glare from Namjoon. “I’ll make you dinner every night for a month.”

He presses his lips together, contemplating. “Sold!”

You roll your eyes playfully, flicking his forehead.

“Hey now!” He scolds. “Is that any way to treat your fake boyfriend?”

Your family was very big on appearance. They didn’t care that you sister and her husband practically hated each other, as long as they plastered on fake smiles and put on a good show in front of everyone. They didn’t care that your little brother and his boyfriend had been broken up for two months, they paid the boyfriend to come to a family event and pretend to be infatuated with your brother for one night.

You’d showed up solo to Christmas in the past, but according to your parents, this year was important. They were throwing a huge Christmas Eve party with all of their friends, coworkers, and extended family. They’d made it very clear that if you weren’t going to show up with someone, then you might as well just not show up at all.

And you knew you should just say fuck it and not go. That’s what your brother was doing, but deep down, as much as you hate to admit it, you still crave your parents’ validation and praise.

Namjoon knows how rocky your relationship with your parents is, that’s why he was so against the idea in the first place, but here you were, packing for a trip home with your ‘boyfriend’.

“Okay, we need a backstory.” Namjoon says from the passenger seat. Reaching for the coffee in your cupholder to steal a sip. “Like how we met and started dating.”

“Wait!” He perks up. “Do your parents know that we’re friends? Because then we could say we were friends and then fell for each other or—”

You cut him off with a sharp shake of your head. “No, they don’t know. I don’t tell them very much about what goes on in my life.”

“Okay.” He says softly.

You crack a smile, biting your lip to keep tears at bay, ones you didn’t even realize had formed.

“So, this backstory huh?”

Namjoon grabs both his duffel and yours, helping you shoulder your backpack as he does the same. You take a shaky breath before slamming the car door shut. Namjoon reaches for your hand, giving it a light squeeze.

“Five days,” He breathes in your ear. “You’ve got this.”

You squeeze his hand in thanks, pocketing your keys with your other hand. “Let’s go then?”

You and Namjoon make your way up the front walk, observing the perfectly decorated façade of the house, something you know your parents paid good money for. Before you can ring the bell, the door is yanked open, both your mother and father standing there to greet you.

“___!” Your mother chirps, pulling you in for a hug. She squeezes for a second before letting you go, prompting your father to do the same.

“And who is this handsome young man?” Your mother wonders.

“This is Namjoon.” You swallow. “My boyfriend.”

Your mother smiles, clasping her hands together underneath her chin. “Oh, how wonderful!” She squeaks. “You didn’t tell me you were dating anyone.”

You shrug helplessly. “I wanted to surprise you!”

“And what a lovely surprise it is.”

“So, tell me again why we have to change for dinner?” Namjoon wonders, buttoning his grey shirt. You fluff your hair once more before turning to smirk at Namjoon.

“Because, everything in this family is an event.” You say sarcastically, giggling. He laughs, wiping his palms on his dress pants.

“You did great by the way,” You comment, sliding silver hoops into your ears. “I think they love you already.”

He looks at you, admiring the way your chiffon jumpsuit fits you, how great the black material looks against your skin.

“Joon?” You wonder, ripping him out of his daze.

“What? Oh, thanks.” He smiles.

“Hmm.” You grin, reaching up to fix a piece of his hair. He’d recently dyed it black and you were obsessed, you can’t get over how good it looks on him.

“You ready for dinner?” You wonder, reaching for his hand.

“As ready as I’ll ever be.” He sighs, pasting on a smile, gripping your hand tightly with his own.

As you make your way down the grand staircase, leading Namjoon, you smile with ease, surprised at the calm in your being. Family dinners always filled you with dread but having your best friend by your side seemed different, less scary.

When everyone is seated at the large, mahogany table, you start on your salad, taking a sip of water. For most of the meal, your parents focus their attention on Namjoon, peppering him with questions about his job, his education, and childhood.

Namjoon smoothly transitions the conversation back to your parents, wondering; “If ___ told you about her big promotion at work?”

Your mother’s gaze shifts to you, raising her eyebrows expectantly. “That’s great sweetheart, congratulations.” You smile at the praise, your face warming bashfully.

After dinner and dessert, you and Namjoon bid a goodnight to your parents, sister, and your brother-in-law, before heading up to your bedroom.

“Are family dinners,” Namjoon starts, tugging his shoes off, once your door is shut, “usually that tense?”

You nod solemnly, removing all your jewelry and pulling out the elastic from your hair. “You really impressed them though!” You exclaim. “And that’s not easy to do.” You mumble, looking down at your feet.

“I’m sure it is for you.” He laughs. How could your parents not be impressed by his beautiful, intelligent, kind, and brilliant best friend.

You shrug, pulling some clothes to sleep in from your bag. “I’m gonna change then the bathroom’s all yours.”

He nods, taking the opportunity to change into his own sleepwear, setting his watch on the dresser, and setting his phone on the charger.

When you emerge from the bathroom, clad in a hoodie and matching sweatpants, Namjoon smiles softly, switching with you so he can wash his face and brush his teeth.

When he exits the bathroom, you’re working your dinner outfit onto a hanger before placing it in the closet.

You flick the overhead lights off, turning on one of the bedside lamps to cast the room with a warm glow. Namjoon awkwardly stuffs his hands in his pockets.

“I can sleep on the floor.” He speaks up. You give him a look, arching an eyebrow.

“Joon, don’t be silly,” You comment. “It’s a king size bed.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

He smiles, gingerly sliding into the bed, tugging the covers over his lap. You smile, doing the same, pulling out your phone to watch something while Namjoon opens a thick novel from his bag. The two of you sit in comfortable silence, each doing something separate while together. It’s not awkward, in fact just the opposite. The space surrounding you and Namjoon is comfortable, calm, and it feels nice.

Namjoon learns that breakfast is the only meal where it is acceptable to dress down. After informing him that pajamas, are in fact, allowed when he’d gone to get dressed. After you slide into your slippers, he wraps an arm around your waist, letting you drag him down the stairs just as you had the night before.

You and Namjoon are the first people to arrive at the table, so you scoot your chair extra close to his, giggling when he stumbles getting into his chair. His smile dimples his pink cheeks, a sight that makes your heart flutter in your chest.

Your head is nestled in the crook of his neck, cheeks warm with laughter, giggles escaping your lips at the story Namjoon finished telling you. Namjoon’s lips are parted in a wide grin, one arm flung loosely around the back of your chair, the other one resting on your thigh. When your laughter has subsided, you nuzzle further into his neck, sighing heavily. Namjoon’s hand cradles the back of your head, lips near your ear.

“You doin’ okay?” He wonders softly. You nod against his neck. You reach for his free hand, squeezing it tightly with your own.

“I’m fine.” You breathe. “Just a little on edge.”

He nods in understanding, pressing a kiss to your hairline.

It was not unusual for you and Namjoon to be affectionate with each other, but this morning, butterflies were flapping in your stomach, the way Namjoon is treating you borders on couple territory.

“Well look who’s up!”

The warm, soft atmosphere Namjoon had created for you, vanishes when you hear your mother’s voice, your shoulder’s tensing, head whipping around.

“Hi, hey, good morning.” You stumble, moving you chair back to its normal spot, putting some space between you and Namjoon.

“Good morning.” Namjoon greets with a dimpled smile. He reaches for your hand underneath the table, giving it a big squeeze.

You smile at the small show of affection and squeeze back.

Your parents wait until your sister and her husband have joined at the table, taking their seats directly across from Namjoon and you.

“Orchid!” Your mother says, speaking directly to your older sister. “You should’ve seen Namjoon and ___, when we first came down.” She smiles motioning at the two of you. “They were all over each other.”

Your sister looks to you, eyebrows raised.

“We weren’t, I don’t—” You flounder for words in your haste, Namjoon smoothly cutting you off as he puts his arm around the back of your chair.

“It’s hard not to be when you’re with someone as wonderful as ___.” Namjoon chirps. You step on his foot under the table.

“Cheesy much?” You wonder, quiet, but still loud enough for the other members of the table to hear you.

“Only for you honey.” He produces a megawatt smile before pecking a kiss to your temple.

Your mother practically falls out of her seat swooning, but not before giving a pointed look to Orchid and her husband, Sungmin.

That was what your mother did. She pitted the two of you against each other, pulled out your insecurities and served them out on a silver platter. Orchid and Sungmin were on the brink of divorce, of course they aren’t affection with each other. You were just waiting for your mother to sink her claws into you.

“Oh but ___, did you hear about Orchid’s big case?” She wonders, a vile smile creeping up her face. “It’s very important and her boss has entrusted her with handling it. I have no doubts she’ll win.”

“That’s great Orchid.” You smile. “Congratulations.” You feel genuine warm feelings towards your sister, your shitty childhood making your relationship stronger. Orchid had often held you when you cried and let you sleep in her bed when you were really upset after something your mother had said.

“And ___,” Your mother shifts her attention fast enough to make your head spin. “How’s work?”

“It’s great.” You manage through gritted teeth.

“She actually just got a promotion.” Namjoon smiles. “Like I said last night, its super exciting.” You don’t miss the little dig at your mother, and you suppress the urge to laugh. He grins proudly and you can’t help but smile a little. Namjoon had been the most supportive person in your life ever since he came into, overwhelmingly proud when you became got your degree and again when you got your first serious job.

“I’ve never understood how people can find joy in accounting.” Your mother spits. “It seems boring and there’s so many numbers.”

“Actually,” You pipe up. “It’s very interesting and you can really—”

“Still, I could never do it.” She cuts you off sharply.

“___ is incredibly intelligent.” Namjoon speaks again, eyes locking right on your mother’s. “It’s not boring for her. Although I could see how it could be for those who don’t understand numbers as well.”

Your mother’s jaw drops just the slightest, before she shuts her mouth, arms falling helplessly to her lap. You could kiss Namjoon right there, no one’s ever gotten your mother to shut up like that and you revel in it.

Once your mother has composed herself, she clears her throat, gaining the attention of everyone, yet again.

“So Namjoon, what do you do?”

“I’m a writer.” He answers, posture tall and confident, his eyes right on hers again.

“That’s lovely.” She comments. “Did you know that Sungmin is a doctor?”

“I did not.” He says politely. “That’s a very admirable job.”

“So is writing!” Sungmin pipes up. “I’ve always wished I had a talent with words like that. I used to pay my friends in university to write papers for me.”

Namjoon chuckles at that, smiling.

“Namjoon writes for a magazine in our city and he does some freelance stuff for big companies too.” You say proudly and he grins at you.

“That’s awesome man,” Sangmin comments. “I’d love to read some of your stuff sometime.”

“Yeah, I can—”

“But surely writing can’t be as fulfilling as a doctor. Nothing can beat saving lives.”

Everyone straightens grimly, all smiles disappearing.

“Remember I’m a general care physician, I don’t perform major surgeries.” Sungmin smiles awkwardly.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t save lives baby.” Orchid coos, setting her hand on his forearm. “But no career is better than another.” She comments, looking directly at your mother. “Every job is important, and everyone has different things they’re passionate about.” She looks at Namjoon now. “And I think writing is wonderful. You must be really smart.” You smile at your sister in thanks and she winks.

Your mother just scoffs, finally deciding to be quiet and eat her breakfast.

That was really…intense.” Namjoon sighs, tugging a clean crewneck over his head. You look up from the mirror where you’re rubbing moisturizer into your skin.

“Hmm.” You hum in agreement. “I’m so sorry by the way. The way my mother treated you was unacceptable.”

“It’s okay.” He answers honestly. When he sees your frown deepen, he sets his hands on your cheeks.

“___. I promise you it’s fine.”

“I just feel bad. It’s bad enough you had to come here and do this but now my mother is insulting your career and—”

His thumb nudges your chin, prompting you to stop talking. “First of all, I didn’t have to come here okay? I chose to be here. And second, you are not accountable for the things that mother says. She’s not nice to you either.” He reminds you with a soft smile.

“Thank you.” You say simply. He kisses the top of your head before scrounging his suitcase for his Converse. “Okay, I’m making an executive decision for us.” You state, flopping down onto the bed. His eyebrow quirks in curiosity, smiling, encouraging you to go on.

“We’re going out.” You announce. “I can show you my hometown, we can go shopping, get food. And if we time it right, we won’t have to be here for lunch or dinner.”

“I like the way you think.” He smirks, winking as he laces up his sneakers.

You’re a little buzzed from the spiced cider you had at dinner, giggling when Namjoon helps you out of the car, one arm already full of bags from the purchases you’d both made that day.

One of the things you loved about coming home, was getting to visit all the little shops and restaurants that were set up in town. You and Namjoon spent the day supporting your local small businesses and you couldn’t have been happier. It was a great way to spend time with your best friend—and get away from your parents.

You lean into him as you make your way up the front walk, giggling again when he trips on the cobblestone, his stature pitching forward before he catches himself.

Your parents and sister are lounging in the front room, your parents seated on the large sofa, your sister and Sungmin across from them on the loveseat.

“___, Namjoon, come join us!” Your mom suggests cheerfully, a glass of red wine resting in her hand.

“Okay,” Namjoon nods. “Let us take these bags upstairs and we’ll be right back.”

Namjoon leads you up the staircase, hand on your lower back.

“We probably should hang out for a bit,” You comment. “We haven’t seen them all day.”

Namjoon nods in agreement, taking the bags from your hands, setting them in the closet alongside his suitcase.

“Lemme just change,” You say, peeling your sweater over your head, eliciting a blush on Namjoon’s cheeks, his head ducking down.

You trade your sweater and jeans for a hoodie and Christmas-themed pajama pants, heading into the bathroom to scrub off your makeup while Namjoon changes into sweatpants and a t-shirt.

Your parents look up when you reenter, smiling softly when they see the way you’ve nuzzled yourself into Namjoon’s side.

“Oh! Look what we put up earlier!” Orchid comments, pointing to the doorframe right above you and Namjoon.

Mistletoe.

“Oh, ha ha.” Namjoon chuckles awkwardly, his face heating up once again.

“Come on lovebirds,” Your sister laughs. “Give us a little show.”

“Gross Orchid.” You mumble, glaring right at her.

“You have to!” Your mother giggles. “It’s the rules.”

Namjoon looks like he wants to melt into the floor, scratching the back of his neck.

You aren’t sure if it’s the alcohol that’s lingering in your body, or how cute your best friend looks with his red cheeks, but something fills you with confidence, and you squish his warm cheeks with your hands, pressing a hard kiss to his pouted lips.

Your parents laugh and cheer, Orchid clapping good-naturedly. When you pull away from Namjoon, his eyes are wide, puffy lips parted in astonishment.

“So, this is it huh?” Namjoon wonders, straightening the red tie around his neck, which not-so-coincidentally matched the exact shade of your cocktail dress. “The big party.”

“Yup.” You nod, double checking your makeup in the mirror.

To say Namjoon was nervous about the Christmas Eve party, was an understatement. He was freaking out. He wants to make a good impression on everyone, in hopes that he can sell the lie the two of you have been living the past few days.

“You’ll be fine.”

He nods, swallowing harshly. He doesn’t admit it to you, but the party isn’t the only thing making him uneasy. You had never talked about last night, after you had kissed him, everything went on as usual, as if it never happened.

You slip into your heels, giving him a small smile.

“Alright,” You sigh softly, taking his arm. “Party time.”

You swallow another sip of champagne, gripping tightly to Namjoon’s arm. He had survived all of the introductions, and unsurprisingly, everyone loved him.

Dinner had already been served, and everyone was mingling, upbeat holiday music filtering through the speaker system, champagne and wine flowing easily.

Your parents were talking to some clients from your mother’s interior design firm, and you know without listening that she’s talking about you and Orchid.

That’s the thing about your mom—she’ll criticize every decision you make, but in front of everyone else she plays the proud, devoted parent, bragging about all of your accomplishments, as if she had anything to do with them.

Namjoon senses your discomfort and he nuzzles his cheek against the top of your head. The wine he’d been drinking had earlier served as liquid courage, but now that he was relaxed, he was just sleepier and cuddlier than usual.

“You okay?” He murmurs, lips at your ear. You nod robotically, leaning against his shoulder. Obviously, you’re not okay and he knows that, so he takes your hand, leading you outside to the back patio for a moment of fresh air.

Noticing the chill on your skin and the shiver in your movements, he drapes his suit jacket over your shoulders, wrapping an arm around you.

“You’re not okay.” He whispers. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s just,” You sigh, leaning into his embrace. “My mother. She’s so critical and finds fault in everything we do, yet when it comes to appearances and other people, she has nothing but good things to say.” You bite your lip to hold back the tears that fill your eyes, looking out into the wooded backyard. “If she really is proud, then why can’t she ever tell us?”

“Oh honey,” Namjoon frowns.

“It just feels like nothing I ever do is good enough. I work hard, I did well in school, but it’s like it’s not good enough. Why do I care so much about my parents’ approval, why can’t I just be proud of myself because I’ve done well?”

You don’t stop the tears from falling, splattering onto your cheeks and no doubt making tracks in your carefully applied makeup.

“I’m sorry.” Namjoon whispers. “I’m so sorry that you feel this way. I’m insanely proud of you and I wish you could see how wonderful you are, so deserving of love and praise.”

“I love you.” You blurt, the words spilling so easily from your lips, with a little help from the champagne in your system.

“Oh,” He smiles. “I love you too, you know th—”

“No Namjoon, I love you.” You murmur.

Something sparks in his eyes, you don’t see the way his demeanor changes, as he realizes what these feelings were—are. Spending all this time with you has made him feel different, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on the feeling. But now, he knows, he loves you too.

“Can we go upstairs?” You wonder. “I’m so tired, I can’t be down here anymore, I just want—”

He cuts you off with a nod, taking your hand and letting you lead him to the back staircase, so you can escape without anyone seeing you.

Once the door is closed—and locked, you fling off your heels, flopping onto the bed. You drag your ring finger under your eyes, in attempt to collect the mascara clumps that washed off your eyelashes with the tears you’d shed.

“I love you too.” Namjoon announces, throwing his tie and shoes in a pile before standing over you. “God, I love you so much. I never realized how I feel, but now I know and—”

You cut him off with a press of your lips on his, hands grabbing for his shoulders and pulling him down. His lips melt into yours, returning the kiss with more fervor, mouth warm and soft.

You’re gripping on his shirt, clawing at the buttons when he pulls back slightly, running a hand through his damp locks, slicking it up onto his head.

“H-honey,” He starts, stumbling over his words a little. “I don’t know if we should be doing this right now.”

“What?” You pout, sitting up. “Why not? Do you not—”

“No, no, no, trust me I want to.” He sighs. “But you’re upset, we’ve been drinking…” He trails off and you whine.

“Joon please, I want this, I want you, I love you.” You frown, setting a hand on his cheek.

He looks into your eyes, searching for an ounce of hesitation. When he doesn’t find any, he you pull him back down, hovering above your form.

“Are you sure?” He murmurs, his breath ghosting over your lips.

“Positive.” With your affirmation, he presses his lips to your own, lightly tugging on your bottom lip with his teeth.

He breathes in the groan that passes through your lips, sighing deliciously. After Namjoon’s tie is crumpled on the floor and a failed attempt at the buttons on his shirt, you tug on each side until it releases, the fabric literally ripping before you toss it away.

Namjoon only chuckles, shifting positions so that you can straddle his lap. Your hands grip his hair, exhaling when his lips meet the skin on your neck.

“I love you.” He simpers, lips behind your ear. “I love you so damn much.”

When you wake up the next morning, something’s changed. Not only between you and Namjoon—who’s currently cuddled into your side—but also the way you feel about yourself.

“Joonie,” You coo, tousling his hair. “Joon wake up, it’s Christmas.”

“Mmm, morning Christmas,” He murmurs sleepily. He nuzzles his face into your neck, eyelids falling shut.

“Namjoon,” You whisper. “C’mon. Let’s get up.”

“Please?” He whines. “Can we please sleep for a little longer before we have to go down there?”

“No Joonie, we’re going home.” You push back the covers and climb out of the bed, cold air flushing your skin.

His head snaps up, eyes perking up. “What?!”

“We’re leaving.” You announce, sliding on his t-shirt from two nights ago. “Unless, you want to stay?” You tease, raising an eyebrow.

“I’ll start packing now!” He gets out of bed, pressing a kiss to your cheek before grabbing some fresh clothes and entering the bathroom.

You dress and pack up your belongings, so that when Namjoon is ready, you are too.

The two of you hold hands down the stairs, leaving your bags by the doorway before venturing into the kitchen.

“Good morning!” Your mother chirps. “Merry Christmas!”

“Hey guys.” You greet awkwardly.

“Come, sit down—have some breakfast, then we’ll open gifts.”

“Actually Mom,” You breathe. “We’re leaving.”

“What!?”

“Namjoon and I are going to go home.”

“Absolutely not, sit down.”

“No Mom. I don’t wanna be here anymore. I thought now that I’m grown up you would actually treat me with an ounce of respect, but I was wrong.”

“Excuse me?” Your mother snaps.

“Come on honey, let’s just go.” Namjoon urges, squeezing your hand tightly. You shake your head, squeezing his hand back.

“Before we leave I have something to say, and you’re going to listen to me.” You tell your mother, tone firm yet gentle. “For my entire life I’ve taken shit from you. The verbal abuse, emotional abuse, all the digs, all the criticism. Nothing I ever did was good enough for either of you and I’m done with it. I’m happy with who I am, what I do, and who I choose to spend time with. I’m done trying to impress you, this is my life, not yours. I am more than good enough and shame on you for not seeing it.”

You take a shaky breath wiping the single tear that fell down your face while you were speaking.

“And you Dad?” You add, redirecting your gaze. “You never did say anything. Never stood up for us, and God forbid you actually were proud of us without Mom telling you, you were allowed to be.”

Your parents sit there, dumbfounded. You take a moment to catch your breath before turning to look at Namjoon, who is trying very hard to bite back his grin. Orchid’s face is a mixture of admiration and pure joy, mouthing; I’ll call you later.

“Honey, I’m sorry you feel that way.” Your mother manages, thinking for her next words.

You swiftly shake your head.

“I love you both, but we’re leaving.” You smile. “We can work through this, only if you’re willing. But for now, I want to go home and spend Christmas with my boyfriend.”

You and Namjoon turn to leave, collecting your luggage before loading up the car.

“Holy shit.” Namjoon blurts. “That was fucking amazing, I’m so proud of you.”

“Thank you.” You smile. “It felt good.” He leans over to kiss you, hand cupping your cheek.

“It was also pretty fucking hot.”

© arcticguk 2020. absolutely no reposting, translating, or modifying, even with credit.

[btsslowburnfic]

Chthonic Love 19

Series Summary: A Greek Mythology AU featuring Yoongi/Suga as Hades and reader as Persephone. Olympian ruler Namjoon has delivered you, Persephone, as a gift for his brother, lord of Death, Yoongi Chapter Summary: Preparing for the Masquerade ball and some adult time on the beach. 

Previous Chapter here

You stretched your hand out along the walls. You had been cultivating the vines for a few weeks now; their tendrils weaving along the Palace corridors. The red was a stark contrast to the black walls. Excellent. Your dress pooled behind you as you stopped to admire your work. The ball would be in a week; there was still so much to do. You heard a gentle clacking against the floor and knew it would be Yoongi. The servants all wore soft shoes. You waited, petting the vines.

“It looks great,” He said, wrapping an arm around your waist and gently pressing a kiss against your temple. He still couldn’t believe he could just do that.

“Thank you. Not too over the top?” You asked, looking up at him.

“No. But, we do need to talk about the palm trees.” He moved away slightly and held up your cloak with his other hand. “Are you coming?” 

You faced him and allowed him to fasten the cloak around your neck. His fingers gently touched your throat, causing you to blush slightly. 

“Of course,” you grabbed his hand as the two of you walked through the Great Hall and towards the exit. The walls of the Great Hall had been lined with Chrysanthemums and orchids. Staff had begun to sit out tables for the reception area. “What’s wrong with the palm trees? They looked great yesterday.”

Yoongi smiled. “ They look beautiful. It’s just. I don’t want people thinking of the Underworld as a vacation destination. Palm trees give it that impression.”

You feigned surprise, knowing he was right. “I’m sure the dead people and spiders will change their mind, don’t worry.” You teased as the two of you took the cavern path today. The cave glittered with your phosphorescent plants. Your magic had flourished these past few weeks, uninhibited by any negative energy. 

“[Y/N], please. I do have a reputation to maintain. Dark. Scary. Rawr. Is that a flower crown?” Yoongi asked as the two of you exited the cave and approached the Gate of Judgment. 

Holly cocked his heads to the side. Each one adorned with a little flower crown. Well. They were actually quite large, but on his heads, they looked small.

“It’s three flower crowns. We played yesterday.” You responded, petting Holly’s side. “Didn’t we???? Didn’t weeeeeeee?”

His tail wagged and his tongues lolled out, happily.

Yoongi shook his head. “Holly! You’re only supposed to listen to me! Traitor.” 

Holly moved his ears up and down as though asking “What?”

You laughed. “You look beautiful Holly, don’t listen!” Holly wagged his tails.

The two of you continued over to the beach. What had once been a desolate landscape, filled with nothing but black sand, was now dotted with black and silver palm trees. Their frons a beautiful contrast against the greenish-grey sky.

“Ughhhh my dessert is covered in Palm Trees. My dog is covered in flower crowns. What is happening to the Underworld?” Yoongi lamented.

“You invited a Spring Goddess to live here, remember?” You giggled and kissed him on the cheek.

“Hmm...I suppose I did, didn’t I?” He turned to face you, cupping your face in his hands as he pressed his lips against yours. These past few weeks had been full of moments like these:the two of you not being able to get enough of each other. 

The sound of your lips leaving his made a slight sound. You turned and faced the palm trees.  “All right. I see what you mean. It does look almost tropical. So would you like menacing thorn trees? Some sad looking willows? Fly traps?”

He stepped behind you, moving your hair over so he had direct access to your ear. “I like the palm trees. After the party you can put them back. I don’t care if the dead people see them, it would probably comfort them actually. But for the other Gods and Goddesses, we do need to give off a more menacing, “hey don’t try to overthrow me” vibe.” He moved so he was next to you. “We've been at relative peace for centuries, but it’s always tenuous at best. Especially when you get  a group of Olympians together.” 

You put your hands on your hips, knowing he was right. “Ok Ok. May I?” You asked him, turning to him with your hands out. You always asked before you borrowed any of his magic to amplify yours.  Yoongi nodded and extended his hands.  You took them and began to use your magic to change the landscape. 

The palm trees began swaying and eventually became dust, their remnants blowing out across the Stygian Sea. The sand and black pebbles rose up and took new form, twisting into rigid thorny patches and brambles. They were three times the height of Yoongi. You wanted to make sure they looked impenetrable. This went on for several minutes before you began to get tired. Yoongi could tell before you and he yanked his hands away, causing an immediate loss of your power. You doubled over.

Yoongi caught you as you fell forward, placing his arm around you for support. “I’m sorry [Y/N], can’t you tell when you’ve used almost all your magic?”

You were breathing heavily, “No. Thanks for stopping me. It’s hard for me to tell when you’re amplifying” You stood up slowly. “Your power is like an ocean. Mine is like a well.”

Yoongi looked at you with concern. He barely felt a dip on his power when you borrowed some, but it seemed to always take an extra toll on you. He took off his cloak and placed it on the sand. He sat down on it to keep it from blowing away.  He spread his legs into a V and gestured for you to sit down in between them. “Come here.” He extended his hard to you.

Taking it, you sat down in between his legs, allowing him to wrap his arms around you. “You did a great job. Spiky trees look great.”

“Thanks. I’m thinking we can make a decorative path through it tomorrow. Guests will need to arrive at the castle by going through it.  I’ll need a fountain though. I can’t make one of those.”

“That’s a great idea. I’ll get you a fountain.” Yoongi said, resting his chin on your shoulder. He looked out along the horizon where the Stygian sea met the sky. He would get you anything you wanted. These past few weeks had been the best of his life.  

“Thanks.” You said quietly, enjoying the lull of the waves and the feeling of your body pressed up against his. The two of you sat in silence for several minutes. 

“You going to fall asleep?” He asked, pressing a kiss against your collarbone. Your whole body shivered.

A throaty laugh escaped you, “Not if you keep doing that.” You teased.

“Oh?” He responded, taking that as an invitation to continue. He placed another kiss along your collarbone and then moved up towards your neck. A soft moan escaped your lips.  He switched it to a gentle sucking motion.

“Yoongiiii…” You said quietly.

“Mmmm?” You heard and felt vibrate against you.

You turned around more, causing him to remove himself. You found his lips with yours and the two of you commenced kissing once again. You felt his hand slowly pull up your dress as though asking permission. You helped him, quickly pulling it up more so the fabric rested against your thighs. You had never been so glad that the shore was completely desolate. Yoongi’s hand rubbed against your thigh. 

“Is this ok?” He asked, pausing his kiss for a moment. 

“Yes,” you breathily agreed and resumed kissing him.

 His hand kept teasing around your panties. It took a great deal of self-restraint not to push yourself up against his hand. But you tried to remain grounded as you felt his hardness pressing against you from behind. You couldn’t believe that he felt this way about you. You felt so lucky.

Yoongi finally worked up the courage to hook a finger inside the side of your panties, gently feeling his way around. He was so afraid of messing this up, or doing the wrong thing. “Still good?” He asked, his voice sounding more like a growl at this point.

“Uh-huh,” you managed to groan out as Yoongi had started to draw circles around your clit.

He scissored his fingers on either side of your clit, causing you to shudder.

“So sensitive. Lean back a bit,” He wigged back with you following, relaxing up against him. You put your legs up, bending your knees and causing the fabric of your dress to become even more pushed up. You felt him gently explore your entrance, before pressing a finger inside of you. “Fuck.” You let out.

“All in good time,” He teased, his breath on your neck feeling extra hot.

He added a second finger, pumping them in and out while his thumb circled around your clit. Yoongi pressed kisses along your neck, alternating with sucking. You wished he was sucking something else, you found yourself thinking. “I could take you on the beach. Right here,” Yoongi said, beginning to feel the strain of himself pushing up against his pants. He wanted you so badly.

“Yes. Yes.” You found yourself saying. Yoongi removed his hand as you turned around to face him. You instantly connected your lips and straddled him, taking him by surprise. You felt him smile, as you kissed him. He reached a hand down the front of your dress, gently kneading your breast. You felt his erection pressing into you, causing you to grind down on him. 

He pulled away. “You are so beautiful.”

You smiled and ran a hand through his hair. You saw his eyes move from your face to the horizon. His smile dropped. “Fuck.” 

You turned around and saw the last remnants of the green light flash and the ships sailing on the horizon. You looked up to the sky and started laughing. “Ughhhh we lost track of time.” Yoongi rested his head against your chest for a minute. 

“Dammit.” You heard him say slowly as he pulled away, his face suddenly red.

You looked down and retied your bodice so your boobs wouldn’t flop out. “Hey, we can continue this later.” You stood up, fluffing your skirt back out.

Yoongi sat there for another minute, willing his hardness away. It barely worked but alas, the dead never stopped arriving. Death waited for no one. Even the Lord of the Underworld’s sex life.

NEXT CHAPTER

[justimajin]

It’s a Reverse Basket ◍ Part 1

⇝ Pairing: Yoongi x Reader

⇝ Genre: Fluff, Comedy, Angst 

↳ Basketball AU, Crossdressing AU

⇝ Words: 2.9k

⇝ Summary: The goal has never been in your favor, and despite all your best efforts, you don’t think it ever will be. But that’s right when you finally get the chance to turn things around, to do things the way you’ve always wanted to and to go after what you truly love. However the problem isn’t if you can do it, it’s how much are you willing to do...?

⇝ Warnings: pg13; none for this chapter

⇝ *Disclaimer: If you’ve read gender bender manga before, you know exactly what this fic is going to be like. However if you haven’t, this story will involve themes of cross-dressing only for fictional and story purposes. This will include numerous instances of the reader having to hide that she’s a girl and this being kept secret. Please do not read if you are not comfortable with this idea.

gif credit. 

⇝ Previous Parts: Moodboard

⇝ Next Update: Tuesday, March 24 

One Step.

Two Step.

Turn around.

The building before you is coloured a burnt red, grimy bricks stacked together until they join to create a giant brown rooftop. Craning your neck further, there are rows and rows of glass stretching out in between the reddened bricks, crossing what you assume to be at least ten floors. A small ding from the inside snaps your attention away, eyes no longer taking in the towering landmark that looms over you.

The rumpled map is carefully folded within your hands, doors automatically shifting apart when you draw closer. Your bewildered eyes can only glance around aimlessly until they locate the elevator, rushing over and hurriedly pressing the button to go up. After what feels like an entire eternity, it finally dings again and you step inside, grip tightening on your bags.

When it comes to a full stop, you hesitantly lean forward. Your gaze traces over the many rooms that span across the lengthy hallway, each one containing a string of numbers stamped in fine print. It’s eerily silent as well, compelling you to wonder if that’s such a good thing until you begin sweeping by the various rooms, hearing distant sounds of shouting and yelling, even a certain crash that has your shoulders spiking and a shiver running down your spine.

There’s a sudden loud thudding noise coming from your right that mimics the quickening of your heartbeat, a cluster of students jogging by. All of them are glued to one another, swinging their arms around each other’s necks and loudly chattering away until they notice you, despite your best efforts to become one with the wall in the hallway.

Shoulders bump into you rapidly and your backpack slides off, getting harshly trampled on until it's kicked away to the side, a collection of snickers echoing before the group leaves. You kneel down, dusting off any remains of nasty footsteps with a sigh and shrugging it onto your back. Picking up your fallen suitcase, your eyes are both lost and confused so you opt-out for rummaging through your pocket, a crumpled piece of paper emerging in your hands.

“Room…613..…” You whisper, scanning the various number plates, “610, 612…” You look on the right side, “611..…613!”

Inhaling a deep breath, your fist rattles against the door.

When it seems like time has begun to slow down and the chattering of your breath erratically increases, the door is finally yanked open. Your eyes and mouth are both wide, jaw nearly dropping at the young man that stands before you.

Long curly black locks fall down his forehead, resting delicately against his sun-kissed skin and nearly covering his surprised eyes. He’s dressed in a loose black t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants, a lollipop sticking out of his pursued lips.

He’s extremely handsome, you acknowledge right away and when he leans forward to get a closer glimpse at you, you also realize – and very tall.  

Before you have a chance to say anything, he spirals around and shouts in a deep tone. 

“Jungkook-ah! Did you end up adopting a scrawny little kid and not tell me?”

“What?! No!” You hear a voice shout back far within the room, a delicate tone in comparison to the guy at the door. There’s some shuffling before footsteps stomp over, the voice growing louder, “Tae that’s our new roommate, stop being weird and just let him in.”

“A NEW ROOMMATE?!” The man – ‘Tae’ – glances at you with huge eyes and opens the door to the room wider, “Oh my god, where are my manners! Please come forth to our lovely home and pardon the mess, the black-haired fairy in the corner over there has refused to clean up his shit since yesterday!”

You’re greeted to exactly what he says; an utter mess. There’s piles of takeout and clothes sprayed out all across the floor, mixed in with a handful of dishes, specks of dust and some random clutter as you stand in the middle of the room. You catch a peek at the individual facing Tae, appearing to be drastically younger in comparison and sporting shorter black hair, a set of silver hoops dangling from his ears. Yet despite his youthful appearance, you notice that he’s on par to Tae in terms of height when he stands right next to him.

“The mess isn’t just mine you know?! You can clean up once in a while too!”

“What was that?? I can’t hear you because I’m too busy untangling myself from your dirty laundry on the ground half the time!”

You watch them argue from a distance, not quite sure about what you should be doing as your hand remains planted on your suitcase. Biting down on your lip, you wonder if perhaps you should say something, eyes darting between them at a speedy pace.

A scream almost threatens to leave you when a hand taps you from behind, whirling around to be greeted to another person – one with ashy-grey hair and flushed cheeks.

“Please do ignore those two idiots and come in.”

He kindly smiles, immediately taking the suitcase from your grasps. You’re at a loss of words when he gestures for you to follow him, gaze still darting back to see Tae and Jungkook completely at each other’s necks. However when you hear your suitcase being strolled away, you hastily trail after him to catch up.

After rummaging through a couple of keys, he unlocks one of the doors and opens it wide.

“Here’s your room!” He declares and his arms stretch out, as if presenting to you a wonderful creation. When you step in with curious eyes, you notice immediately that it’s extremely small – just a narrow window and closet in the corner, only a third of what your room back home was like. It’s also something that Jimin regards right away.

“I know it’s not much, but I can assure you it’s cozy!”

And yet contrary to the room, you find yourself absolutely agreeing with him.

“I love it.” You whisper, eyes spread in awe when you pivot around your surroundings, utterly mesmerized until the man behind you chuckles. “Thank you– uh…”

“Jimin.” He reaches out a hand with a smile and you instantly take it as he tilts his head to the side, “Those two are Taehyung and Jungkook, they’ll be your roommates.”

“Oh, so you don’t live here?”

Jimin shakes his head, “I actually live next door, but Taehyung and Jungkook are my close friends so I come by often.”

You nod and he whirls around, eyes darting to outside of the room.

“Speaking of which….”

You trail behind him when he goes back to the living room, a new high-pitched voice soaring out.

“Hey! Don’t fight, don’t fight!” Your eyes catch sight of a man with brown hair standing in between Taehyung and Jungkook, his serious expression causing you to feebly cower behind Jimin. But that’s when his eyes dart over to you, and similar to a light switch, he immediately brightens up.

“Hi! You must be their new roommate!” Rushing over, he snatches you up into a hug right away and you turn into ice in his arms, “I’m Hoseok!”

“N-Nice to meet you.” You take a step back, clearing your throat as you naturally deepen your voice, “I’m Y/N.”

“Y/N?” Taehyung frowns, “That’s a strange name for a guy.”

“I-It’s not really, it’s usually used for both genders so it’s not out of the ordinary for a guy to have it.” You suck in a breath when you've forgotten to breathe, all eyes in the room simultaneously glued to you.

Taehyung hums, “I guess you’re right.” He reaches out to grab Jungkook, who simply scoffs at him before his eyes roll over to you in curiosity, “As you might have heard already, I’m Taehyung and this grumpy twerp over here is Jungkook.”

“I would be less grumpy if you actually cleaned up for once in your life.”

“You really want to start this up again Kook?” Taehyung narrows his eyes at him, practically fuming as you dart your eyes all over the place. Hoseok flicks Taehyung against the forehead, causing him to whine as he tugs Jungkook over to his side.

“Will you two behave?! We have a new member in the room!” Hoseok scowls, donning a similar expression to before and they both immediately zip it.

Jimin giggles, “Seems like you’ll have quite some trouble on your hands Y/N. If these two aren’t getting their act together or bother you at all, don’t hesitate to call us.”

“Exactly!” Hoseok points over to Jimin with a grin, “We’re just next door so reach out whenever the case!”

“Thank you.” You whisper, softly smiling until an idea suddenly sparks in your mind. “Uh, if you don’t mind me asking– do any of you know about the competitive basketball team here?”

“You like basketball?” Jungkook inquires, doe eyes growing wide. When you meekly nod, there’s an explosion of awe surfacing in the room.

“That’s great Y/N!” Hoseok exclaims, eagerly gazing at you, “Are you thinking of joining?”

When you nod, Taehyung jumps in, “We have our first meet tomorrow morning! You should come with us!”

“Us?” You question, hopeful eyes scanning their faces. Taehyung smiles, a proud expression on his features.

“You can say you’re looking at last year’s elite team, Bangtan Sonyeondan!”

“Still hate that name.” Jimin mumbles. 

Jungkook crosses his arms and scoffs, “I think it’s cool.”

“You and Namjoon are the only ones that actually like it,” Jimin rolls his eyes, before bringing his attention back to you, “but you should definitely come tomorrow Y/N.”

“Yeah! It’ll be so much fun!” Hoseok adds, causing you to smile.

“Of course.” You glance over at your room, an apologetic look appearing on your face, “I hate to break this up but I should really start unpacking…” 

“Hey no worries, we should all get some shut-eye for tomorrow.” Taehyung gestures over to Hoseok and Jimin, snapping his fingers, “And you two, out.”

Jimin pouts, “You can ask nicely…”

“Last time he did, you guys protested and fell asleep on our couch.” Jungkook’s eyes narrow onto Jimin’s, “and drooled all over my carpet.”

“To be fair, Hoseok pushed me off when I tried to cuddle and–  okay, okay we’re going!” Jimin holds his hands up in defence when Jungkook glares at him, grabbing onto his roommate and dragging him as he waves to you with a heart-shaped smile on his face. “Bye Y/N! It was nice meeting you!”

You giggle at Hoseok and Jimin offers you a kind smile, carefully closing the door behind him as Taehyung turns back to Jungkook.

“Now, does cleaning mean I have to do the dishes tonight?”

Jungkook grabs a dirty sock from the ground and throws it at him.

***

After spending countless of hours unpacking your belongings, you eventually decide to call it a night. You take a quick glance at the apartment, noticing the front door you had walked in had led into the living room – which aside from the couch and small TV, was still sprinkled around with Jungkook’s clutter. He had managed to get rid of the laundry Taehyung had mentioned along with some takeout boxes, though you’re not quite sure how Taehyung had seemed to convince him to do that. Taking a fast peek in the tiny kitchen, you notice there are no more dishes leftover either, so in a way you wonder if a compromise had somehow gotten established between the two.

When your head falls down onto the soft pillow you brought, you adjust yourself on the mattress you had plopped down on the ground, still exhausted from all the unpacking to set the bed up properly. Looking at the top of your headboard to the bottom where your blanket is, you recall that your room is right in between Taehyung’s and Jungkook’s, being the smallest one out of all them.

Thankfully, both of them have fallen asleep, the room being silent enough for your lids to flutter close.

***

A loud pounding sound jolts you awake, a bird’s nest resting on top of your head and half-lidded eyes darting around. You eventually realize the sound is coming from your door – another series of knocks greeting you once again.

“RISE AND SHINE Y/N! We have our first meet at 6 am sharp!” Your puffed-up eyes glance over at the clock you hanged up last night, the time reading 5:30 in the morning. With a sharp inhale, you scramble out of the bed and attempt to locate your comb and toothbrush.

“I’m awake Taehyung!” You hurriedly shout back, detangling your long hair at a quickened pace. Glancing around, you grab onto the short mop of hair sitting on the ground next to your bed, brushing it thoroughly before planting it onto your head.

“You better hurry! It looks like Jungkook’s cooking up some breakfast and I’m going to need help convincing him to share!” Taehyung retorts like he’s telling you a secret, a giggle being drawn out of you as you slide on a t-shirt and a pair of shorts.

“Not to worry, back-up is on its way!” You grab your shoes and sink your feet into them, a foaming toothbrush sticking out of your mouth.

When you finally come out, your greeted to the smell of freshly sizzled eggs and sweetening pancakes, eyes widening in surprise when Taehyung grins at your expression. After a full ten minutes of convincing Jungkook to share with the two of you – one that Taehyung had told you involved showering him with praises until he gave in – you’re happily chomping down as you race against the clock to head over to the court. Taehyung and Jungkook guide you through the buildings along the way, your eyes eagerly taking in every aspect of the school that you had just enrolled in.

“Oh, that’s the canteen!” Taehyung quickly says, “We usually eat there together after class.”

He starts pointing in several different directions, your eyes barely being able to keep up. “Classes happen there, those are the libraries, there’s also this really cool place called The Zone that let’s you get free food on Fridays.”

You nod, quite impressed with how well the school was built. Based on your own research, you had heard it was more catered towards students interested in the sports rather than academics, but there was a fair share of other things going on aside from the two.

“Guys.” Jungkook snaps you out of your thoughts when he points to the gym, your breath almost being stolen at the sheer size of the building before you. Taehyung takes a glance at his watch, sucking in a sharp inhale when you’ve only gotten a couple of minutes left. He grabs hold of you and Jungkook instantly, dragging you along with him at a speed that has the air knocking out of your lungs.

“We’ll show you the rest later Y/N! I don’t want to get killed for being late again!”

He speeds down the hallways, a blur of yellow locker rooms whizzing past your vision alongside the vast expanse of water behind glass doors. However, the small handful of details you take in isn’t what has your expression contorting in absolute marvel.

It’s the massive gymnasium that Taehyung brings you into.

It would be a shame to put it into mere words, the large interior that rises high above to the ceiling, wide enough to fit at least 10 teams. The ground is decorated with various streaks of colours, hues of bright orange and fresh white. From the corner of your eye, you can see the long rows of bleachers – already the sounds of thrilled fans echoing through the gym.

The astonishment steaming from your eyes is stolen away when Taehyung plants you in a line-up, right next to Jungkook and a familiar individual with ashy-grey roots.

Jimin beams at the new sight of you, and from a distance, you can see Hoseok standing right to him – but instead of having a giant smile on his lips and eyes full of excitement, his shoulders are stiff and his gaze is hardened.

Confusion waves over you for a second until you feel a sharp jab to your waist that has you straightening up, not missing the subtle glare Jungkook holds.

Taking a deep breath, you’ve failed to miss how the large gym is quiet – including the boys that are currently lined up. It almost makes you feel like you’re in the military, a heavy silence in the air as everyone’s form remains ominously tense.

Before a million of questions are ready to spill by your lips, the sound of footsteps stops you. Just like the rest, you swivel your head to the right towards it and if you thought the gym itself had already taken you aback, you were definitely not prepared for this moment in time.

Similar to a hit of deja-vu, it’s vastly familiar. The dark maroon hair, the narrowed yet intrigued eyes, the basketball clutched tightly in his hands as if he was holding a prized possession. Every single thing about him has you nearly dropping dead onto the ground, but its something you whole-heartedly try to refrain from, especially when he walks past you with a slight frown.

He moves to stand in front of the boys, a programmed commanding stance embedded into him and trained eyes already resurfacing. 

Because in front of you stands the Min Yoongi.

The infamous captain of Bangtan Sonyeondan.

[yeojaa]

SUGAR HIGH, chapter iii. (w. JJK)

You're not entirely sure when it happened, though you'd come to terms with it. You'd counted the days, waiting for the inevitable. You'd truly thought you'd be okay, but by the broken, half-beating thing in your chest - you knew you'd never really been prepared.

alt summary.  You thought you’d known real love and maybe you had - it just wasn’t with who you thought.

pairing.  jeon jungkook.  mentions/involvement of ot7.

tags.  angst, break up, post-break up, comfort, OT7, slow burn, friendship, moving on, hurt/comfort, emotional hurt/comfort, emotional bagge, fluff, canon compliant, jeon jungkook is bad at feelings, jeon jungkook is a good friend, jeon jungkook is a sweetheart.

rating.  general (for now?)

word count.  ~2300

chapter 3.  Stay with Me

You fall back into old habits but nothing is the same as it was.  He is sunshine and honeycomb digging into your molars, sending you on a sugar high.  You are a heart covered in rust and cobwebs and every minute with him is too good to be true.

You were busying yourself in the kitchen by the time he'd stood up, shifting weight from foot to foot as he pressed his hands together above his head.  Crack, crack, crack came the sound of his spine, realigning in relief as he straightened up.  

Rubbing sleep from his eyes, Jungkook studies the apartment, trying to remember what's changed.

The rug on the floor is the same - sunflower yellow and fuzzy.  He'd vetoed it when you'd originally bought it in your first year of university, insistent that it would clash with everything else.  He's reminded he'd been wrong.  It fits just right here, in this little piece of your personality brought to life.

There are photos tucked beneath the glass panel of your coffee table, slotted between lacquered wood.  There's a few of the two of you - one being a Polaroid with his signature scrawled across the bottom in silver Sharpie.  You'd asked him to sign it a few years ago, claiming you'd be able to sell it for thousands of dollars when Bangtan had taken over the world.  You'd only faltered when he frowned, pressing a kiss to his cheek and smearing mint-flavoured lip balm over the skin there.  "I'm kidding, Jungkook.  I'd never sell anything so priceless," you'd murmured, a twinkle in your eye. His heart swells at the memory, a symphony within his chest that suddenly feels too warm.

The far wall houses a painting that looks like it was done by a child - or Jackson Pollock. It's a white canvas with contrasting colours strewn across it with little rhyme or reason, vibrant coral blending among faded green and stark black.  Messy scrawl in the bottom righthand corner looks suspiciously like Jungkook's signature. 

Being here, among your things, feels like home again.  So it's easy when he gathers his backpack and disappears down the hallway into your bedroom. 

He's walked this same path a hundred times. 

He tosses his bag at the foot of your bed before dragging his shirt over his head and tossing it into your laundry hamper.  He figures you'll do it with the rest of your clothes and then conveniently forget to give it back, as you've always done.  Not that he minds.  Not that he's ever minded.  It means he'll always have clothes around for times like this, means his designated drawer will never be empty.   

It shouldn't make him as happy as it does - the fact that the drawer still exists.  

You'd proclaimed it as his one afternoon when he'd dropped by in between vocal lessons.  You'd been rummaging around in your drawers when he'd barged in - he'd had a key then, before all of this - two iced coffees balanced in a cardboard tray per your request.  You'd hardly looked up when he'd settled into your computer chair, aware of his stare digging into the back of your head as you sorted clothes into two piles. 

"What're you doing," he'd asked curiously, watching you study an oversized grey shirt in your hands.

"I'm giving you a drawer.  You have too much random stuff here.  I can never find my own things."  You'd said it so matter-of-factly, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.  Of course Jungkook would get a drawer.  He deserved a place here in your home, just as he did in your heart.  He was your best friend.

You'd felt more than heard him creep up behind you, his chin coming to rest on your shoulder as he settled on his knees.  God, he was so boney.

"You know this means you'll never get rid of me, right?"

You'd laughed at that, the sound bouncing around the room like a hyperactive pink bunny.  He remembered how your eyes had crinkled at the corners, little wrinkles forming around your nose as you turned to meet his stare.  

"I think I figured that out a long time ago, Kookie."

Crouching beside the drawer in question, his fingers brush the polished metal of the handle.  Would the contents be covered in dust, long forgotten when you'd moved out?  He pauses for a moment before some invisible string is urging him forward. 

The drawer slides open with little resistance and he realizes he's holding his breath.

Relax, Jungkook.

Nestled among the wood are neatly folded shirts and a few sweaters.  Further back are a pair of sweatpants and, hilariously, a pack of unopened boxer briefs.  

It's with some satisfaction that he notes everything seems freshly laundered - or at the very least, recently handled.  (Other than the boxers, that is.)  The scent of your detergent - the one you both use - lingers on the fabric. 

He can't help but smile as he plucks a heavily worn sweater and the semi-familiar sweatpants out before tearing through the pack of boxers.  He tosses the articles of clothing on the bed, only hesitating when he catches your familiar scent on the collar of the sweater. 

You must've worn it recently.  He hopes so.

You're leaning against the counter, hip resting idly upon the cool top as you wait for the batter to crisp up.  Your fingers are tugging at the hem of your shirt - twisting the cotton this way and that as you worry the inside of your cheek.

For once, you're not thinking of him, of the past.  Instead, you're focused on making this first pancake perfect (even though you know the first one is always a write-off).

Jungkook hasn't had your cooking in a while and the last thing you need is him making fun of you.

Humming to yourself, you poke gently at the batter, pleased when it pulls from the pan with little resistance.  A little noise of triumph slips between your lips, pleasure etched into every line of your expression as you shift back once again.  You know it's silly to derive such happiness from something so small but when everything feels a little too heavy, this is a welcome reprieve.

You'd slept well for the first time in days, your best friend was home, and you were alive. 

Sure, it wasn't the lottery, but it was something. 

"Smells good."  His voice steals your attention and you turn to see him sauntering into the kitchen, crossing from the hallway and into your personal space in only three steps.  His hair is fluffy, just barely wet still and swinging to and fro across his forehead. 

You beam, proud as can be, as you turn your attention back to the kimchijeon.  "Thanks - I tried."

You miss the way he stares at you with a tenderness that would stop your heart.

He's wrapping his arms around your shoulders, careful not to rest too much of his weight on you.  He draws you back against his chest, his own feet carrying both of you backwards until he's leaning against the sink.  He allows another little yawn to slip past his lips.

"Want to watch a movie while we eat?  Or after?"

You want to tease him, make a bet that he'll fall asleep five minutes in - he often does - but instead you hum an affirmation.  He feels it reverberated through his own chest.  "Whatever you want, Jungkook-ah," you agree finally, gently jostling his hold on you as you slide the pancake from pan to plate before ladling out another scoop of batter.  

The words you don't verbalize speak volumes.  He knows you'll agree to anything he says because he feels that same countdown he does, a reminder of his limited time with you. 

You know he'll always make time for you but this feels different - clandestine, special.  Maybe because it's the first time it's just been the two of you in a very long time. 

Whatever it is, you want to hold onto it for as long as you can before he's pulled away by obligations once more. 

So you allow yourself to be held by him, to be cradled against his chest like you belong there.  You don't even complain when he accidentally knocks your left hand, causing you to drop one of your chopsticks.  You simply huff a little sound - loud enough for him to hear but gentle enough for him to know it's all in good fun - and grab another from your cutlery drawer. 

"Can you grab the beer?"  You ask once you've finished the last pancake, carefully sliding it atop the others while simultaneously flicking off the stove. 

He's ahead of you, grabbing the bottles from the fridge while snaking the plates you've just finished.  He calls over his shoulder as he disappears around the corner, framed in the kitchen nook like some kind of boy-next-door dream come true.

"You choose the movie."

You'd decided on one of the Avengers movies, partially because it was mindless entertainment and partially because you couldn't resist the look of disappointment you'd caught darting across Jungkook's face when you'd swept past it. 

Settled into the loveseat, you nibbled languidly at a crispy edge, careful to avoid dropping crumbs into the crown of the boy beneath you.

You really weren't sure why he'd opted to sit on the floor, sprawled between your knees, rather than in the seat beside you or the more spacious chaise perpendicular to you.  You weren't complaining, though.

"Your English is getting better," you muse.

Beneath you, your best friend preens at the praise, gaze darting from the screen to your face.  He doesn't even falter when he thanks you.  "I've been practicing a lot with Namjoon. He thinks I'll be able to talk more during interviews."

You can't help but snicker at the way he pronounces his hyung's name in the unfamiliar tongue, the ah taking on a curiously nasal lilt. 

"What!"  He's challenging you, broad chest pushing against the front of your knees as he twists around, seemingly forgetting about the movie that plays behind him.

"You're just so cute, Jungkook-ah." 

This catches him off-guard, the adjective somehow sounding so much more when it isn't in his mother tongue.  For a second, he curses you for having one-upped him.  Damn you and your time abroad.

He mumbles something unintelligible as he turns around once more, allowing the weight of his back to rest fully upon your legs once more.  He hopes you don't catch the way his ears burn when thin fingers part his strands, gently musing the downy softness with unbridled affection. 

For his sake, you pretend not to notice.

By the time the credits roll, you can tell he's half-asleep, head lolling to the side as he does his best to keep upright.  You feel his breath, hot through the material of your sweatpants, as you shift behind him, shaking him awake as gently as you can.

"We should go to bed.  I know you'll have to be up early tomorrow."

It's only a guess but when you've been with him the better part of a decade, it's as educated as can be.

"I'm sleepy," he returns, though it comes out more like a whisper.  He's nothing but a big adorable baby as he readjusts, single arm curling around the line of your calf.  If you could take a picture of this moment right now, you would - but you're terrified of stealing him from whatever half-remembered dreamland he's currently in.

"I know, I know."  You all but coo as you move to stand, dragging his fingers from your hand in an attempt to haul him to his feet. 

It's futile, of course.  He's a good ten centimetres taller than you and undeniably heavier than you.  You'd hardly move him on a good day and certainly not when he's near deadweight.

"Come on.  Get up."  

You're surprised when he does, surging to his full height without any further urging.  You're even more surprised when he brings you with him, sweeping you into his arms as if you were nothing but a bag of feathers.

A squeak parts your lips, settles into the collar of his shirt - truthfully, your shirt, considering how often you wear it - and you lean into his hold.  You tell yourself it's so you don't bring the two of you crashing down by flailing.  He doesn't mind, either way. 

Jungkook is happy - over the moon, really - as he makes his way to your bedroom, pausing by the hallway to let you switch the light off.  He's careful of your head, making sure not to knock your pretty little crown of (grown out) blonde as he navigates in the dark.  It's not hard, but he finds himself taking extra time, enjoying the weight of you in his arms.

When you reach your bedroom, he deposits you into bed like you're priceless, carefully tugging the unmade sheets up to your chin.

"Sweet dreams, jagi."  There's a pause, the briefest uncertainty, before he's pressing a quick kiss to your forehead.  

Your skin burns where he'd touched you, each nerve ending alive with something you can't quite place.  It almost distracts you from the fact that he's slipping away, almost out of reach.  "Where are you going?" 

His head cocks as it always does, rounded lips pulling into something like confusion.

Before he can speak, you're pulling your blanket down, patting the other half of your bed like it was made for him.  "I don't have germs, you know."  You mean to sound light and breezy, noncommittal, but there's something just beneath the surface that belies the truth.  A quiet despondency that only reveals itself in the dead of night.

You don't want to be alone again - and he could never say no.

So he slips between the sheets, ignoring the staccato rhythm of his heart as he lays his head down.  All around him is you - your face in muted light, your smell in the sheets, the heat of your body from no more than a hairsbreadth away.  It's hard to focus with you so close, an appreciative smile spread over your cherry mouth.  When your hand finds his in the dark, though, it doesn't matter. 

All that matters is you, and him, and this little piece of paradise.

notes.   that was really just a lot of fluff. fluff fluff fluff. but i'm thinking it's going to get rocky...

[yagirleddie]

the agency (1)

~min yoongi x reader

~summary: what happens when you have to leave the best two years of your life behind and hand the rest of it over to a corporation that turned you into a living weapon ? what happens when years later memories of an unknown life materialize out of nowhere and change everything you thought was real ?

~warnings: idk, give it a read ig 

Getting close to the apartment now, you feel the nerves almost twice as much as what it was on the subway from work. The adrenaline has long worn off but the panic and anxiety lingered around your bones as you recalled the phone call from earlier.

“Are you sure there’s no other way? Cant the extraction wait?”

Your voice wavered only slightly before hiding the cough making its way up your throat. The smell of the approaching Doom’s Day seemed to only have an effect on you as unsuspecting civilians littered the pavements alongside you. A couple bumping into you without as much as an acknowledgment or an apology. Figures.

“It has to be today, agent. We agreed that we’d give you two years to live amongst these people in exchange for the rest of your life and your services.”

“I know but what about Yoongi. He’s the love of my life!! I can’t just up and leave, they’ll know something is up.” The frantic beats of your heart showed more in the trembles of your fingers than in your voice and for that you were thankful, however even you knew hiding anything from your boss was impossible.

The deadline of 9pm clouded your thoughts and you dreaded having to meet with your boyfriend of two years and his friends that have quickly become yours, knowing it would be the last time you’ll ever see them again.

Pulling out your keys to the apartment, you take note of the splintered wood of the closed door as it will most likely be the last time standing in front of it. With shaky hands, you manage to open the door and dejectedly walk through, placing your work bag on the floor and your keys in the ceramic bowl under the standard ‘LIVE LOVE LAUGH’ poster that Yoongi bought you as a gag gift for your birthday last year.

“Y/N!!”

A deep voice belonging to none other than Taehyung, Yoongi’s old flatmate before moving in with you. His black hair was curled this evening, boxy smile hidden under the cool grey fabric of his most prized hoodie. The front had the signatures of all his friends on it and the shiny silver print of yours and Yoongi’s handwriting on the back. The print reminding you of your questioning glance of why there was only two and met with the “its reserved for my favourite couples,” as his answer.

“Guess who I found lost in her pretty little head?!!”

A chorus of your name being called and their confessions of missing you brought you out of your head as a hand pushed you further into the open plan living room to stand behind the black couch.

“Fucking finally!”

“You know how long we had to wait for you?!”

“Jin hyung kept complaining about you being late!”

“Did you just call my girlfriend pretty?”

There it is. The voice you’re gonna miss so much. His deep melodic drawl still made butterflies erupt in your stomach, even almost two years after your first meeting. The gleam in his eyes when he looks at you is still evident despite being covered by the jet black strands that fall into his face, matching the all black outfit that consisted of a hoodie and sweats. He looked comfortable and all you wanted to do was snuggle against his chest and fall asleep to the rhythm that was his heart and forget that in 3 or so hours you’d have to leave.

“Hey Yoongs,” you sigh lovingly into his gesture of affection, his lips cold yet so inviting, “how’re the kids doing?”

You lean over the couch to ruffle your hands through the half-red-half-blonde hair of the youngest of Yoongi’s friends and stupidly laugh through a greeting with him. Jungkook’s doe eyes closing slightly due to his bunny teeth taking up the bottom half of his face and the dimples in his visible cheek. He shared that with his older brother, the grey haired man that sat across from Taehyung with his legs folded under him. Another person you’ll miss.

Yoongi pulls you into another embrace and patiently waits for you to wrap your arms around him. He’s a good head taller than you making your position comfortable enough to rest his chin on your head. He mumbles into your neck about Jin- the oldest and resident mother of the group- needing your opinion on the food he’s made and whether or not you’d fight his case when he’s put on trial for murdering Jimin and Hobi for being absolutely useless in the kitchen.

A breathy laugh escapes you before diving in for another soft kiss from Yoongi and whispering an ‘I love you’ in his ear. You lock eyes and you pray that he doesn’t see the sad and regretful yearning that possibly shows on your face before walking towards the kitchen with a sigh.

The kitchen is bustling with the movement of Seokjin putting together a salad while playfully berating his dongsaengs for picking the toppings off the freshly decorated cake sitting on the island’s marble countertop, courtesy of the rich bastards leaning on it. A “pre-wedding gift” they called it. If only you’d ever reach that point in your relationship.

The shorter of the two-Jimin-bounds over to you with open arms and a charming eye smile that made it hard not to smile back. His gentle laughter forced its way through your ears as his chin hit your shoulder and you wonder what you did in your past life to deserve feeling such heavy guilt in your stomach for what you’d inevitably have to do later. Surely you kicked a puppy or some shit because fuck if leaving them wasn’t going to be the most painful thing you’ve ever done.

Jimin’s short arms are replaced with the strong ones of your boyfriend, immediately recognizing it was him due to the mint and sandalwood essence of the scent that was Yoongi. His arms shook with the force of his usually silent laugh brought out of him by the shenanigans of the elder and the two men still eating away at the almost naked cake.

Hobi, the red head, and resident sunshine of the group only briefly greeted you before apologising to Jin for the cake and offering to redecorate it. His smile never leaving his face which only added to the fun atmosphere of the simplistic design of the black and white kitchen. Looking around one last time, Yoongi again notices that same forlorn look in your eye from earlier and hesitates to question it before you excuse yourself from the kitchen to “wash up and get comfortable".

Yoongi turns to Jin after watching you retreat to your shared bedroom, and asks if he thinks you’re acting weird, to which he only responds with a distracted “huh” before moving to the apartment’s very spacious balcony to neatly set out the dishes that he slaved over for majority of the afternoon

Namjoon watches Yoongi take a seat next to him with a pensive look on his face and index finger pawing away at the skin on his pink lips. Jungkook mouths to Taehyung that, as quiet as Yoongi hyung is, he’s uncharacteristically more so than usual. Yoongi sighs audibly and slouches down so far on the couch that his cleanly shaved chin rests on his chest, bringing his left hand to push his hair off his forehead.

Taehyung senses the anxious atmosphere and pulls an irritated Jungkook (for not being able to “kill the son of a bitch who got his Widowmaker killed") to where Jin, Jimin and Hobi were occupying seats nearest to the edge of the balcony.

Taehyung turns back and sees Namjoon pat, the now upright, Yoongi's shoulder and moves around the couch to get to him. Namjoon takes in the questioning glance of the dark haired younger and hesitates before explaining that Yoongi thinks Y/N is acting weird.

Before Namjoon could say anything further he's interrupted by the call of your name and a plea from Jungkook to sit next to him.

“Noona!” Jungkook pouts while requesting that you sit next to him and not Jimin which made you smile before throwing an apologetic look towards the glaring blonde. Minutes later Yoongi takes a seat next to you and brings your hand out from under your bum to hold it in his. Your sweater paws no more as the matching black hoodie pools around the wrists that were covered with light scars that only Yoongi knew existed. He smiles in your direction which immediately lightens the weight in your chest, causing you to climb into his lap. His arms snake around your slim waist, never once letting go from your hand and brings his lips to your neck.

“I missed you, baby.” Yoongi whispers into the air between you and it takes all the self restraint in your body to not burst into tears because of the situation you found yourself in.

“You saw me this morning.” You laugh and Yoongi thinks the sound alone can cure cancer, with the way your eyes seemingly disappear into your head and occasionally hitch in frequency when you struggle to draw in a breath.

Suddenly with the way he’s looking at the endearing tint on your cheeks, he doesn’t notice when his hyung stands up to make a toast, only brought back to the present when he feels you tense in his arms when you look at the time on your phone. 7:58pm.

Looking at your phone to check the time only served as a heinous reminder of the fact that in an hour your little family will be no more. The look in your eye returns and before Yoongi could comment on it, Namjoon is urging him to stand and make a speech. He stares back dumbfounded before realizing that he’s been spaced out long enough to miss both Jin and the younger male to finish talking. Which must have been long because those two had a thing for the dramatics. Tapping your waist, you move to take back your seat next to Jungkook with your body facing Yoongi as he speaks.

“We all know today is the two year mark of Y/N officially being welcomed into our family…”

Your boyfriend continues to drawl through his speech but you’re lost on the fact that it really has been two years since you met them. Back when the city was still new to you and your anticipation of civilian life was exciting. So exciting that even while finalizing the two year deal with your agency, you overlooked many of the EXTRACTION details in favour of dreaming about falling in love and starting fresh. However you didn’t take into account that leaving this life behind will hurt like hell.

“I’m excited for what the future has in store for us Jagiya but for now the only future I want to think about is our two year anniversary next week.”

The boys don’t notice your sudden quietness throughout the dinner and even if they did, they don’t comment on it. They collectively chalk it up to post work exhaustion which pulled a smile from you at their business-like discussion on your apparent exhaustion.

Namjoon and Seokjin call your name from across the table to decide their win on their discussion when a series of ear shattering explosions cut the joyful dining experience in half. In a curious and frightened panic, the boys look around and freeze at the sight of flickers of light in the near distance.

Taking their frozen stances as an opportunity you check your phone. 9:00 pm. Your hands shake and you will yourself to slip away from the 6 distracted men and unsuspecting boyfriend. Looking back you see both Jin and Yoongi ask Jungkook if he’s alright, along with the fake maknaes and getting scared “I’m fine hyungs" as a response.

Turning your back on them you don’t see Yoongi blindly reach out behind him to check if you’re alright and you don’t see him turn around in confusion.

Your throat burns with the effort it takes not to cry or call out to your friends and boyfriend and instead sucking in a breath, harshly swallowing the pains of heartbreak threatening to make your knees buckle. You dash to the front door to uncover your belongings and in a quick fashion pull out the 7 letters you wrote for your boys.

Whispering a quick sorry to no one in particular you push your way out the threshold of what once was your home, eyes filled to the brim with the painful tears of the situation. In your haste to leave you don’t notice the confused and betrayed pair of eyes standing with his back to your large Black TV, silently watching you through the mirror hanging off to the side at an angle that caught your hurried exit.

Voices fill the air with concern and panic as the boys on the balcony realise the absence of the second oldest's girlfriend. Jungkook wipes his face with the back of his hand and Jimin pulls out his phone to call you. Taehyung is off somewhere searching the house for you and Yoongi is frustratedly carding his hands through the roots of his hair.

Silence ensues as the ringing of a phone sends everyone into search mode. Jimin finds it first and the boys watch your screen light up with a picture of you and Yoongi from 6 months ago. Taehyung, Jimin and Jungkook are playing soccer in the background while slightly to the left sits a bored Namjoon with his hands under his head and a sleeping Seokjin on his stomach. Hobi sits behind Namjoon, eating what’s left of the pineapple that you packed for that day.

Yoongi remembers that day well, especially because it was supposed to be a romantic date with just you two but ended up being a family picnic with you and the boys.

What scared him most was the loud and obnoxiously red notification that ripped through the air with its arrival, sending the once worried group of 7 into panic stricken fear and confusion.

9:11 [EXTRACTION COMPLETE]

[juleswolverton-hyde]

Between the pages | 02

Genre: fluff, angst, romance, smut, Werewolf AU, Bookshop AU

Pairing: alpha!Namjoon x human!Reader

Warning: Mention of blood & rape.

Summary: Sometimes we find by sheer luck what we lost between the pages. The retrieval, however, is not always as fortunate.

Previous part / Masterlist / Next part

The calming aroma of golden pancakes mixed with the tang of bright orange juice and sweetness of freshly cut fruit can even be smelled under the shower regardless of the kitchen being relatively removed from the bathroom. Judging by the scent combination, it is mostly strawberries from the farm just out of town, which always brings back memories of the missing cousin of whom there is still no news up until this very day.

Withal, it is another particular perfume that tries to hide in the background and has only been noticed after having become fully aware of reality once more which makes washing off the returning nightmare, every sliver of it carried off with a drop sliding over tanned skin to the drain, that much harder. Especially since the aftermath seems worse than it has been since a long time, due to a reason that cannot be fathomed yet keeps pressing on a mute part of memory without coming through.

Something happened, but it is not clear what or Instinct is simply confused as it always is after having spent terrible hours in the dark in a semi-aware manner, needing to be cleared up like the rest of the body and mind.

Henceforth, although the essences of dawn normally nullify the hold of the dreadful dream and the abhorrent payoff, around this time of the month it does all but that. Quite to the contrary, thanks to the intruder, it forms an unconscious reminder of the animal within.

The family curse.

Nevertheless, if eyes remain closed and fingers just occupy themselves with washing silver strands and styling them in the hopes of staying put, the day can be started as any other. Begin a new twenty-four hours as a human, as a simple bookseller who lives with his restaurant-owning brother whose girlfriend stays over for at least a week straight once a month for not completely normal reasons. Tess resides with us during that period - customarily pushed to find the solution on the Monday of the third week - to solve Seokjin’s continuous problem with the apparently necessary noise.

To be honest, the same issue is caused by the affected creature inside mostly two to three days after, the tempting natural perfume of a mate already belonging to the real alpha of the Kim brothers not particularly helping whatsoever. In fact, if the rut has not started, it is almost suffocating because it also cruelly reminds of the voluntarily taken on loneliness in favour of being an ordinary individual.

Devoid of the risk of hurting a loved one in a primal craze.

Without Y/N.

Ironically, it so happens to be today that Seokjin is loudly taken out of the game if the zesty yet not overly pungent summery smell drifting in from beneath the bathroom door and leading through the living room to the general hallway is any indication. Henceforth, before the earthly brown wolf can drop any hint of wanting to rush out of the kitchen to open the door and completely abandon the focus on cooking breakfast, a fire hazard nothing to be worried about because continuing the bloodline has priority, bare feet already tread over the mulga floor to the cool clay tiles leading to the front door.

While ignoring the heavy musk to the best ability allows without gagging, slender digits of a grey wolf wearing a disguise decorated with casual jeans and a plain white T-shirt mould around the bronze knob to grant entrance to the mate of the dedicated alpha. Likely it is for the better it is me answering the doorbell because the cook already seemed very eager to turn on his heel to take on the task instead.

Anything for a somewhat tranquil start of the day.

Just one meal without any otherworldly hustle.

‘Please do something about Jin.’ Light eyes stare up into pure chocolate ones in amused surprise, the finger still reached out for the doorbell lowering while a smug smirk forms. ‘By the way, good morning.’

‘I felt the mating mark heat up around five in the morning but figured it wouldn’t be a problem until at least seven. But, just in case, I also set a monthly reminder because getting up early in the morning remains an art I’ll never master.’ The enjoyment of the previously made comment fades from a round face as the lingering negativity not washed away by warm drops unfortunately not filled with oblivion is noticed. Of course, it does not pass under the radar since the she-wolf immediately knows it when something bothers a person or peer, mainly due to working in the medicinal branch related to animals and thus also having to interact with their owners. Not that it is hard to miss in general if one is to go by the melancholy air about a posture that tries to hide the nightmare.

Briefly, eyes show a pop of honey gold, the severe mood bringing out the motherly omega. ‘You had that dream again, didn’t you?’

A nod, confirming the answer without speaking. Although genuine concern clearly comes through in speech, there is nothing that can be done to make the mind stop replaying the corrupted memory.

Nothing ever will be able to do so until sight has been graced with Y/N, alive and well, away from the community hidden within society.

A strange pity comes through in the vet assistant’s attitude, quite unlike the sort normally shown at the mention of what punishment Imagination conjured up during the dusky hours. Somehow that unrecognizable emotion strengthens the sense of something bigger having happened but missing out on the event and being blind to the impact.

Nonetheless, before a word can be spoken about the lingering suspicion - the sole other person available for talking to about personal beast-related problems is the absent psychiatrist who is a barista in his spare time in the bookstore - Seokjin rounds the corner, clearly elated at the sight of the small figure in the entryway.

‘Tess! Talk about timing. We were just about to eat.’ Wiping digits stained with the  traces of the preparation of the meal which is now unmistakably beckoning - bitter coffee mixed with the comforting scent of eggs and pancakes alongside that from the seasonal fruits - from the cherrywood dining table, a vapor of musk almost directly nullifies the fresher albeit regardlessly sickeningly nectarous scent emitted by a mate craving their alpha upon coming closer.

Ruby colours for a split second normally identical eyes, indicating actually having an appetite for a whole other type of sustenance yet wanting to keep up airs of normalcy for a defect pack member. Though it is well-meant, it does nothing in the way of feeling any more human than when going straight to the point and leaving the waiting meal for what it is.

Again irises change to a shade of crimson out of warning when briefly locking gazes, the instinct to protect especially against the attempted claim - or so it might feel like despite the lack of desire to actually do so - of another on the beloved moving the transformation instead of something personal. Judgment or conflict is never in place when real nature shows itself because, either intentionally or not, during this period of fertile madness Jin is not the overly caring sibling who makes cringingly bad jokes.

He is the very personification of the curse, the powerful and proud alpha.

The accomplished one, worthy of the old pure blood flowing through the veins.

Albeit a portrayal tainted by the endeavour to control it in favour of the brother who cannot cope with what becomes the other so incredibly well. The outcast who has never gained any sort of mastery over the second savage persona even after five years of hard training, discipline and medicines to repress primal urges once a month and put the overall bloodthirsty demon to as deep a slumber as possible.

All to no avail.

Still a failure after all.

A disgrace to the ancient Kim pack.

A low growl unintentionally escaping when putting an arm around shoulders reaching the height of the middle of the broad chest, the chef at home leads Tess to the dining room. Making sure all the while to steer her just outside the reach of another child of the moon, as the poets would say.

But there is nothing poetic about this story.

In spite of the underlying sentiment of rivalry in the current behaviour, there is no competition in vying for attention since a mark formed by pale pink ragged flesh, the wound has never truly healed, on the shoulder blade is the foundation for an unbreakable bond. Furthermore, the sole thing which has ever been wanted from the sibling’s partner is a listening ear and advice shaped by the greater knowledge about humanity, which has been cultivated by daily contact on a personal level with those unlike us. The latter, in particular, offers the comfort Seokjin at times cannot give due to not really having a sense of what it is like hating the image reflected in the mirror, resulting in mostly sitting on a nearby surface and fulfil the role of an absent deaf man.

Fortunately, the small girl does understand, though acceptance of the condition came soon after being mated by the same wolf who caused the radical shift in persona. It was a reckless decision, made on no other grounds than finally having the individual who has been held dear all this time as a part of the pack as an equal in terms of nature, regardless of thus adding credibility to the rumours about the illegal activities that have supposedly kept the bloodline alive.

Perhaps part of the accusations are true since not every relative, still walking the earth or concealed beneath its surface in eternal rest, has had to endure the curse from the moment of birth. Nevertheless, all of them have forgotten at a certain point what living is like by simply going day by day without any supernatural powers or being similar to any other little piece of existence strolling the pavement.

What it is like to be normal.

This type of ignorance was the reason for moving in with the brown-haired chef alongside the man’s recognition the current environment was everything but healthy, pushing the choice a bit under the mirage of unconsciously doing so to keep up appearances for parents unapproving of any wolf unlike them. Certainly of dishonouring mongrels running amok, though they have not found out up until this very day the youngest son is one.

Breakfast passes in silence devoid of the comfortable atmosphere normally hanging in the air, even during the week wherein getting proper rest is pretty much impossible for each affected party because of various reasons. Eyes try to remain focused on the stack of golden pancakes dribbled over with honey which softens the bitter taste of the daily espresso, but thoughts keep drifting off to the images repeating themselves through the night and the nagging feeling of overlooking something significant. The latter especially applies this morning thanks to Tess’s weird expression earlier regardless of the fact it might not be related to the suspicion whatsoever.

‘Namjoon, are you- Babe, please, not yet.’ In place of opting for eating, the alpha across the table has begun softly nibbling on the mating mark on the side of a pale neck while purring, clearly wanting to retreat to the bedroom as fast as possible. However, the beloved obviously has another idea as a laborious push puts distance between a heated body aching with sensual craving and the one reacting to it but trying to hold off to make sure the third wheel is not dismissed without further notice. ‘Are you alright?’

Appetite entirely subsides as the gleaming polished metal fork is put down beside the half-filled plate, only one pancake having been touched at all. With an air of casualty to mask the growing sense of concern, the inquiry is answered. ‘Why wouldn’t I be? It’s not like this is the first time it happened. Don’t worry about me, I’m fine.’

‘He hasn’t told you, has he?’ The eyes of the smaller brown she-wolf soften before becoming fierce when turning to Jin, the stern sentiment flowing over in speech. ‘You said you’d talk to him.’

‘I forgot, dear.’ A shaking exhale betrays the inner fight for control, wanting to surrender to Primality already yet aware that the apparently important subject at hand needs to be discussed. ‘I didn’t want to trouble him and you know he can’t help it.’

‘Told me what? What’s going on?’ As has been the case from the moment of moving in with the older sibling, certain details have remained hidden out of the belief it would only benefit the care for a monster desperately and comically trying to play pretend at being human. Notwithstanding, the concealment has never continued over a longer period of time since aroused suspicions pushed the urge to gain answers despite their potential ugliness.

And it does so again right now, wanting to hear the true tale, aching to know about the damage.

Because, judging by the knot forming in the gut, the beast within has reigned supreme again in spite of the efforts to tame it.

I took the pills. But why can I remember a different taste of blood so vividly then? It was delicious. Human. I haven’t... I’m not a monster. The medication should have done its job and Jin would never take me to a place where people would be when I’m... not myself. I must be wrong. I have to be. But it was so so good.

‘Are you going to do it or shall I?’ The intonation of the vet assistant suggests a severe approach to the pressing topic is about to be taken and, apparently, by her since no reply comes from the barely sensible alpha. An almost inaudible resigning sigh escapes lips before softening the gaze turning towards the discombobulated and gradually getting more gravely agonized demonic bookseller. ‘Joon, do you remember where you were on the last full moon, two weeks ago?’

‘Why do you ask? I was in the woods, far away from the town.’ Nothing was different from the normal procedure on rough amnesiac nights, going to the remote forest in the distant valley about an hour and a half to two hours drive away from home after having made the necessary preparations.

Thus far there has been no obvious trigger for the discomfort making the body shift nervously from side to side on the chair, the ministrations ever so scarcely noticeable though the sharp animalistic senses belonging to the present company clearly pick up on the unrest. However, neither of the couple seems to have eased as well as the talk carries on. In fact, it can be said each party is only growing more restless in the face of reaching an outcome that cannot be evaded.

With a new question, though, it is nevertheless tried. ‘Did you take your medicines?’

At the discovery of the futility of the long hours of supervision and training, a final resort to medicinal treatment was taken after extensive research on effects and risks with Hoseok and Jin. The former dove deep into the archives and is the sole person with knowledge about how to make the non-lethal pills, which have been helpful in the attempts of becoming more like the man who is aspired to be like since they suppress the rutting symptoms to a bearable and manageable degree. Though still having to retreat from society for a hurtful long irregular week, the pain of being unmated alongside the haphazard transformations would have been grander were it not for the repressing concoction of wolfsbane and silver, just enough to keep the beast within sedated.

Such an untamable creature had not been dealt with since the last similarly powerful children of the moon had been eradicated by the end of the 17th century, all of them ticking time-bombs about to explode and betray the well-concealed kin and peers to the public. Henceforth, albeit bittersweet, multiple alphas, betas and omegas who were present during the executions were relieved that the secret remained in spite of not directly showing it in the direct light of the demise of faces both known and foreign.

Later on, as science developed and the belief in werewolves transformed into a mental disease called “lycanthropy”, renegade wolves were sent to asylums like Lambeth by family members in hopes of the doctors being able to help at least a bit in the transformation of an inherently savage nature. However, as with every form of progress, details were missing in the earliest versions of research, thus causing failures from which others might learn. Hence is why treatment regularly failed, ending in death either by an overdose on the mixture of poison taken today in a lesser amount as an anaesthetic or the syringe.

That was the fate for those who were given a chance at endeavouring, or were, rather, forced to change but still had help. Yet there were also the madhouses specifically designed for execution where most of the Oldbloods, ancient werewolf families like the Kims, sent their uncontrollable relatives for they were the true dangers to the civilization that were dealt with more cruelly in the past.

Far beyond redemption.

Like me.

Fortunately, with the extreme rareness of the condition nowadays and the mental institutions gradually closing, a sole one is left active to extract death punishment on order of The High Council, the organisation consisting of the heads of every Oldblood family and its branches which discusses issues like ongoing affairs and crimes against the race. Otherwise, they have become another fragment of the past obscured by human history while some remember the truth behind the story and fear the last living remnant.

A nod assures the reply to the pharmaceutical question, fairly certain if not entirely of having done nothing to stray from normal protocol. ‘Yes.’

But the short comment is taken with a grain of salt, motherly doubt coming through in the tone of the reaction. Although the alpha’s girlfriend means well - always taking care of not only the beloved boyfriend but also his brother in whom a sort of peer was found at the first meeting - the careful approach serves the irritation building up at being kept in the dark about something clearly gone wrong. ‘Are you sure?’

I did silence the voice of the wolf. But, the prey was delicious, the flesh was so tender despite the muscle. No, I took the pills. The hunt was certainly worth the trouble. No, there was nothing but sheep’s blood in the end.

But if that is the reality of the issue, then remembering should not end at the empty abyss forming part of the memory gap. ‘I think I did.’ Quick glances are shared between the omega and the mate on the adjacent seat, who manages to - albeit temporarily yet impressively - repress every primal desire to pick up on the mental war being waged across the table in the eyes of a haunted soul which has finally found the key to the reason for the nagging feeling of ignorance. Guilt mixes with fear and self-loathing into a dangerous concoction that mostly follows the image of having killed Y/N, unable to stop the creature from devouring her.

The sole grace which is sometimes granted is that the woman who was to become the wife of a bookseller is not raped before the crimson flows richly.

But this time around there is no redemption.

Only pure agony.

Gaze averts from the amiable company to the cherrywood surface of the table, trembling fists filled with inward hatred underneath. This should not be happening, been left behind long ago. This cannot end with death in a clinical environment if the building and reasoned assumption proves truthful. ‘What have I done?’

I should be better than this, be more in control of myself. This isn’t me, some murderous beast. I’ve never wanted to be like this. But... I am... and it has cost me my wife and now even myself. Why can’t I remember?

Seokjin proves to be the one to take the lead in breaking the news, pausing every so often to remain calm and composed, for as far as that is possible when the rut is tainting each aspect of common sense. ‘One of my employees, Jungkook, is hospitalized. He was camping with his girlfriend in the woods and was attacked by a rabid animal.’

Pause, taking a moment to clutch an arm around the stinging pain in the nether regions, the body sick of having to wait to procreate and wanting to start a family right this instance.

Continue, regret distorting a steady voice.

‘I went by during visiting hours last week for further investigation, ask a few questions, but he was barely conscious. Pumped full with morphine, fortunately, because a quick look under the sheets told me enough about the wound on his hip. Not a pretty sight and the pain can only be fathomed. However, he kept anxiously mumbling about a monster black as night with red eyes. I tried to make sense of it without thinking of you, Joon, I really did.’

Pause, trying to suppress a familiar potion of anger and inward hatred that has been drunk many times before by a bookseller.

Continue, a sliver of panic seeping in.

‘Later, as I was about to return home, I came across Hoseok in the hallway, worried just as much as I was. He, too, asked me the same questions we asked you because he said the woods where Jungkook was found were the place where we go on full moons.’ A hush befalls the room as the information is pieced together and sinks in. ‘I know I fucked up big time and for that, I am tremendously sorry. Jungkook just happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, but you also know what this means. It is merely a matter of time before they find out and can use this against you, against our family. I know I am guilty of the crime of turning as well, but the rabidness inside will deliver you to the end of the line. I don’t want to lose my baby brother.’

‘Serves me right because I should be punished for the mistake, not our family. This is not worth losing ground over.’ For with the loss of honour, comes the loss of power. And that is not a burden to be placed upon the people who unintentionally failed in raising a second heir.

‘Namjoon...’

I’m sorry I failed you, Y/N. I know I should be apologetic to Jin, but it’s you who has kept me going all this time, let me anticipate a reunion. I’m sorry, baby. For everything. For never having been nor have the potential to be the right man if human at all. For being me.

None of us says it, but right across from amber and ruby eyes sits a disgrace unfit to ever lead the pack nor rule the territory in its name.

A lunatic that not even an asylum can save.

A dead man whose hands should have tied the noose already a long time ago.

The beast incarnate.

[taimebangchan]

Jikook Fic Masterlist

since i’m incredibly bored here’s a giant masterlist of all the jikook fics i recommend that you read :)

your little moon face, shining bright at me by cygnus (sunsprite). Words: 89824. Chapters: 16/16.  Jimin lives an unassuming life, working at the small and quaint coffeehouse known for its reoccurring open mic nights to showcase indie performers, while he juggles between who he truly wants to be and breaking the conformity his parents try to shape him into. It's dull and grey, full of sleepless nights-- dreamless, even, how he doesn't have much going for himself. His routine is all but a fixed, tedium cycle. That is, until Jimin meets someone interesting during one of their open mic nights.

We Can Be Golden, Why Don’t We Show Them? by hato96. Words: 37097. Chapters: 12/12. "Your eyes..I remember those amber eyes. Those same yellow-orange orbs that gazed at me before. You're the one who saved me."

Unknown Number by bananacookies. Words: 22384. Chapters: 16/16. J_Paaaark1 is following you. Par9J3333 is following you. Say hi! New follower! JImChim26. ChimChim26 has sent a friend request. Accept? Jiminie000 is following your snaps.

two sides; same story by namjoone. Words: 12569. Chapters: 4/4.  Okay, so maybe Jimin thinks his neighbor is hot. A little. Okay, maybe a lot.

Tonight We’re Okay by vvtaehyungvv. Words: 3236. Chapters: 1/1. Jungkook gets set up on a blind date with the most ethereal person he's ever seen, and starts to believe in fate because of him.

the waiting game by bonnia. Words: 6819. Chapters: 2/2.  It’s a waiting game. Jimin knows that Jungkook doesn’t have to come back, but with every little touch, every time Jungkook does, and every time Jungkook lies down right next to him, pressed up close, torturously warm and smelling like cigarette smoke and cologne, Jimin can’t help but feel like he could — would — wait years just for Jungkook to come back to him again. (Or: In which Jimin is a prostitute and Jungkook is his favourite customer.)

The President’s Son by AmeliaBedelia. Words: 55060. Chapters: 13/13. The man in the suit stepped forward. He bowed deeply, holding his position as he spoke. “Jeon Jungkook,” the agent introduced himself. “It’s an honor to serve you.” Jimin narrowed his eyes, scrutinizing the tall man once he stood back up to his full height. “Jeon Jungkook?” “Yes, sir.” Jimin cringed. “Sir?” he echoed in horror. “Don’t call me sir. That’s what everyone calls my dad.” The man nodded. “Yes, sir.” ----- Jimin's surprised when the death threats he's been receiving while attending university warrant additional security. But, he supposes, it only makes sense, considering his father is the president. You know, of the country.

The beginning by CloudLeopard. Words: 26319 Chapters: 1/1.  When Jimin takes a summer job at a cafe owned by Jungkook's mother, he has no idea that it's going to be the start of a series of life-changing events.

texas by honeyrolls. Words: 7937. Chapters: 2/2. Jimin gets a little too horny in Texas.

Tastes Like Victory by eumorious. Words: 170475. Chapters: 13/13.  "You fuck me, then snub me. You love me, you hate me. You show me a sensitive side, then you turn into a total asshole." Jeon Jeongguk's, a successful underground fighter, life collides with the damaged, vulnerable stripper Park Jimin who needs training on how to fight and defend himself against his clients. Jeongguk is the perfect candidate for the job.

Take the pain away by pastelrainbows. Words: 3788. Chapters: 1/1.  Soulmate au where your soulmate can take your pain as their own (under certain conditions). Jungkook has zero interest in soulmates. Jimin is all heart (and soul).

Surreptitious by Bangtanbananas. Words: 69152. Chapters: 11/11. Vampires and lycans have been at war for centuries. For Death Dealer Jimin, his orders had always been the same: hunt the lycans, kill them off. But when a young lycan named Jeongguk crosses paths with him, their worlds collide in a way like never before.

Smile by sweetmxchi. Words: 1274. Chapters: 1/1. I read a headcanon once that said Jimin talks to Jungkook in satoori to cheer him up and thought it was unfair that the other way around wasn't mentioned. or The one where Jimin is upset and Jungkook is having none of it happening while he's around so he goes to make his hyung feel better. or "Are you alright?" "Why are you speaking in satoori? To make me feel better? "Only if it's working."

Rose Quartz and Pink Opal by jiminanna. Words: 21472. Chapters: 1/1. “Everyone is born with either 1 or 2 small powers. If 1, then your soulmate has the other. They will swap the first time you see each other, and you will obtain both when you fall in love. If born with 2, you have no soulmate.”

 Relax, Don’t Do It by yoongidontdoit (sammyinnerdglasses). Words: 24078. Chapters: 4/4.  Jeongguk likes to party. Jeongguk likes to party hard. When he wakes up half naked in a Denny's parking lot, for the third time, he decides to commit to something for once and swear to be completely straight-edge for a full 90 days. That includes no partying, no late nights, and absolutely no sex. Easy until Jimin decides to crash land, literally, into his life.

Registered Alpha by Little_Dimples. Words: 12690. Chapters: 1/1.  Jimin has to order an alpha online. It's required that every unmated omega order an alpha during their heat so nothing dangerous will happen to them. Jimin honestly doesn't want one but he's turning 20 and his heat is scheduled to come in a couple weeks and there's nothing he can do. When his alpha gets there, Jimin doesn't know if he can handle him.

Red Wolf by TheMonarch. Words: 19790. Chapters: 10/10.  Everyone knows about the dangers of the woods. Jimin's father taught him about the monster that lurks there, a wolf. Jungkook, Jimin's childhood friend, is bitten by the wolf making him into the same monster. 9 years later how far will Jimin and Jungkook go to protect each other?

re: I Love You by bonnia. Words: 10658. Chapters: 1/?.  "Um, where exactly did you get that? My… my letter.” The contents of my fucking heart, Jimin thinks in despair. Jungkook looks at him like he’s grown a second head. “The mail box?” “Oh my god,” Jimin says faintly. “Is this really happening?” (or: jimin's world turns upside down when his secret love letters get sent out to all of his past crushes, and jeon jungkook makes an offer he can't refuse)

Pink Lemonades, Tattoos, and I Love You’s by sunrr. Words: 123721. Chapters: 25/25.  Jimin had his summer all planned out, until he was forced to go to his grand mother's house in Busan. He thought his summer was going to be boring and long, until he met Jeon Jungkook.

On Patrol by Ragi. Words: 129876 Chapters: 22/22.  Officer Jeon has his eyes on Mr. Adorable. Officer Min has a strange neighbor he can't seem to keep out of his life. Captain Kim finds comfort in his son's homeroom teacher. Well, cops need some loving too, right?

On Patrol - Season 2 by Ragi. Words: 124616. Chapters: 20/20.  Officer Jeon still has his eyes on Mr. Adorable. Officer Min is a little bit in love with his neighbor. Captain Kim finds comfort in his new family. It's happily ever after for everyone...right? I mean, really, what can possibly go wrong?

Never Judge A Book By Its Cover by whenIseeUsmile. Words: 25266. Chapters: 4/4. Thanks to Jungkook's idiot best friend, he drowned the books he borrowed from the library. Now, he has to work there to work off his debt. He doesn't really like the job but that one boy that always has his nose buried in his books makes his days much better. Or in which Jungkook meets bookworm Jimin and falls harder than he thought he would.

More Than Your Body by whenIseeUsmile. Words: 48670. Chapters: 5/5. Jungkook got an assignment to create a documentary about something he can get involved in and in the beginning, he had no idea what to do. However, when he sees Jimin dance, he knows what he wants. Or in which Jungkook is a film student and may or may not be a little obsessed with the silver-haired man he keeps seeing on his way to university.

more golden than a golden snitch by aborescent. Words: 4542. Chapters: 1/1.  Everyone knows that the first year Slytherin seeker Jeon Jungkook's biggest fan is not from his own house but a third year Hufflepuff named Park Jimin.

Little Soldier Boy (Come Marching Home) by MinatheLast. Words: 41595. Chapters: 8/12.  If you asked Jungkook what was home, he would say his mother's garden. If you asked Jimin, he would say the healer's tent. So what would happen if those two places were ripped away? Maybe two boys, who weren't quite ready to grow up, find a home in each other.

Just For Training [Re-Upload] by bangtanscreams. Words: 42303. Chapters: 23/23.  Jeon Jungkook, using his boxing alias, the Seagull, has recently beat his final opponent, the White Tiger, before entering the National Championship fight, located in the Jamsil Arena in Seoul. Park Jimin, a young masseur just beginning his dream career at the HYYH Club & Spa, and the Seagull’s die-hard fan, doesn’t expect he’d be working his magic on the boxer’s broad, and very naked shoulders, on his very first day of work. But Jimin performs his services with great enthusiasm, and Jungkook realizes that a daily full-body massage won’t really hurt his training.

International playboy (don’t answer) by blt_prf. Words: 95824. Chapters: 19/?. oH I FUCHKED UP I FU UCKED UP YOUR'E NOT NAMJOON yeah what I've been trying to tell you or the one in which Jimin manages to mess up everything in one night and accidentally texts the guy he has a crush on

in which Jimin overworks himself and Jungkook waits up for him by graesun. Words: 1144. Chapters: 1/1.  Jimin drags his feet toward the kitchen where the light over the sink remains on. He’s focused entirely on the fridge and thinking about downing one of his chocolate protein shakes when he spots Jungkook slumped over the kitchen table, his head resting on his arms and a blanket over his shoulders.

Imperfectly Perfect by whenIseeUsmile. Words: 205656. Chapters: 33/33. Jungkook just moved to Seoul and comes to a new school. He's quite naive and believes that there is good in everyone. He loves photography and always carries his camera with him. He thought his life wasn't going to change much, even though he had moved to Seoul. However, that changed, when he took a picture of a certain orange-haired boy with the brightest eye-smile he had ever seen. 

if you by amazingbees. Words: 20928. Chapters: 3/3. When Jimin was just a kid, there was a boy in his class. A boy named Jungkook. (Jimin & Jungkook go separate ways after high school. Hoseok & Taehyung won’t accept it.)

I’m Hella Obsessed With Your Face by sunrr. Words: 42547. Chapters: 6/6.  Jungkook never thought that he would see the boy he fell in love a few summer ago, ever again. Until he bumped into him at a party. (Sequel to Pink Lemonades, Tattoos, and I Love You’s)

i’ll show you how a real pro bends by calipha. Words: 29805. Chapters: 10/10. Jung Hoseok, star airbender of the Bulletproof Boys and crowd favourite for this year's probending championships is injured before a qualifying match. Not to worry though- Jimin and Taehyung are on hand, called in as last minute replacements. Shenanigans ensue.

Hate the way I don’t hate you by blt_prf. Words: 6575. Chapters: 1/1.  10 things Jimin hates about the new kid in his dancing team.

Good Boy by Narsha. Words: 94894. Chapters: 7/7.  Jungkook is homeless. Jimin is lonely.

Emotional Colors by WorldwideWriter. Words: 14214. Chapters: 1/1. An AU in which your hair color changes based on the emotions that you're experiencing. or Jimin has been way too obvious about his feelings lately and Jungkook is a hormonal young man who should know that taking off his shirt in front of Jimin is a bad idea.

Duty Calls by whalien101. Words: 11699. Chapters: 5/?.  “Everyone, greet our new team member!” “My name is Park Jimin. I look forward to working with you! Thank you in advance for your support.” He bowed, hoping his voice hadn’t betrayed any nervousness. Kim Seokjin, leader of Homicide Investigation Team 1, smiled at him approvingly.

Dilaab by ophixx. Words: 827. Chapters: 1/1. (NOTE: this is a teaser to a potential fic but I’m still very hyped for it) Prince Jungkook returns home once war is finished. But he's been out for a long, long time, that when he makes his appearance on the Jeon's manor, a little surprise awaits for the alpha. New servants being hired for the royal family, and a special scent. He doesn't know why, but the young male gets immediately addicted to it. However, the omega owning the scent is a new recruited butler, Park Jimin. From the moment they both meet, life in the palace will become a challenge. A prince and a butler should never, ever, form a bond.

100% by naxariis. Words: 8353. Chapters: 1/1. jungkook's one man mission to get jimin to finally top him.

Cherry on the Cake by pjmjjk. Words: 9131 Chapters: 1/1. “I can’t get hard.” Jimin thinks he misheard what Jungkook said for a minute but he keeps talking. “I mean I can get hard. But I just- I can’t get hard right now.” “Oh my god.” (Or, Jimin brings a boy with cherry hair home, everything is going well until he gets nervous and things become awkward.)

Basorexia by pjmjjk. Words: 9131. Chapters: 1/1.  “You think I won’t be able to get hard again?” “Well, we haven’t talked about it since last time. I don’t know if you’re ready, you haven’t told me.” “You’re right, but…” “But what?” “I wasn’t nervous before but now that you addressed the issue... I just… I don’t know, it’s easier if it comes naturally. I won’t be able to stop thinking about how I couldn’t get hard last time.” “Baby-” “It’s fucking stupid. I’m 22, I should be able to get a hard-on.” (Or, Jungkook is finally ready to try again.)

[kookadoodle]

Laundromat Boy

PLOT: Doing your laundry at an odd timing ends up having its perks, when you meet a tall dimpled college boy with a white laundry basket that looks like yours.  

PAIRING: Namjoon x reader GENRE: fluff, S2L!AU WARNINGS: none WORDCOUNT: 5.2k A/N: my heart is super soft rn x

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You carry your basket down the steps, hoping to God that you will not fall over from not being able to see your own feet. Your grip is tight around the white plastic of the carrier that holds the week’s load of dirty laundry. Dirty might be a little extreme of a word, since you barely do anything to really get your clothes to that state, but either way, the clothes need to be washed. Due to the late hour, the hallways of your dorm are empty and quiet, which is why you are not listening to music at the moment. Normally, you and your earphones are inseparable, but once every week, when you make your way across campus to do your personal chore, you find yourself leaving them behind. You enjoy the sound of the peaceful silence of the night. 

You lean against the door and push it upon, revealing the dark sky and empty campus to yourself. Stepping outside, you let the door slide closed behind you as you are embraced by the slightly cool wind of the autumn air. You breathe it in as you watch the stars lighting up the dark blue canvas on your way to the laundromat. You wonder how it would be if you were able to hang up stars yourself or even take one down to hold for safe keeping. It seems as such a cliché thought, always to mention the stars, but they just seem so vibrant to you on your weekly stroll. There is no one in sight, which should be odd at a college, yet it seems that Monday night is the perfect time to do laundry, since everyone else is in bed early, trying to catch up with the lack of sleep from the night before. That is why you do it after all - to not be bothered by other students trying to hog your machine or steal your detergent. You simply want to do your laundry in peace, and so far, you have managed to do so. You reach the laundromat and step inside, still carrying your basket in your hands. It is entirely quiet in here and all you hear is the sound of your own steps as you enter the empty space. The machines are lined up side by side, and the long table in the middle of the room is perfect for folding newly washed clothes that still carries warmth from the drying-session. You place down your basket on top of the table as you pick out the machines. That is the privilege you get, when you choose an odd timing for doing your chores - you get first pick. All the machines are empty and ready to be chosen by you, which makes you feel in control. You must admit that your perfectionistic brain likes the sight before you, even if it sounds like a weird kink or something. You choose the first and second machine, since 12 is your favorite number and you open them up, before getting your basket. You place the carrier down on the floor below the open lid of the first washer as you start filling it up with your color-sorted laundry. You start with the whites, placing them inside and closing the lid before sliding the basket to the next machine. As you bend down to pick up some of your darker clothes, you hear the door to the laundromat being opened from behind you. You straighten up and look to see who is entering your quiet space. A tall silver-haired boy walks in and closes the door behind him. There he is. It does not surprise you to see him again, since he has been coming here the last couple of Mondays to wash his own clothes. Maybe he had cracked the code to a stress-free zone like you, enjoying the chillness of the late laundromat trips. Unlike you, he does not leave his earphones at home as he always listens to music during his whole time being here, proving he does not come here for the silence like you do, but for something else. He carries his own white plastic basket with him and looks up to meet your eyes as he enters the space. As he sees you, a kind smile spreads on his lips, showing off his cute dimples. He gives you a small nod, greeting you, and you smile back before you both look away to mind your own business. You do not know who he is. You have seen him once or twice outside the laundromat, but you do not even know his name or share a single class with him. He has, however, captured your attention. He makes his way to the opposite end of the machines, presumably wanting to give you your space, which you quietly appreciate. Not that you would mind him being closer, but you like the respect it shows. It seems to be a favorable character trait of his. He is always wearing a pair of sweats and a loose-fitted t-shirt that accentuates his lean, yet toned shape. You look away after finding yourself staring a bit too long at him, but he does not seem to have noticed as he is in deep thought. His music is not loud enough for you to make out what it is he listens to, but you imagine that he likes rap or some sort of pop-genre. It would not surprise you, though, if he had his own unique type of taste. You guess it is in the way he carries himself. He seems relaxed and somewhat content even with doing a boring chore like this one. You shake your head a little, trying to snap out of your trance. Maybe the late hour does play tricks on your sleepy mind, making you daydream about cute dimpled college boys and their taste in music. You tease a smile at yourself as you continue with filling up the second machine. When your basket is empty, you close the lids and fill in the detergent and fabric softener. The lids click as they are locked in place, and you lift a hand to set the settings of the usual wash. Suddenly, you hear a deep sigh from the other end of the line, making you turn your head in his direction. He has filled up his machines, yet something seems to be bothering him, since his gaze has fallen to his feet. He lifts his head up, and you quickly look away, returning your panicked eyes to the small numbers on the screen of the washer. You sense him looking at you, and you just hope he did not notice your odd flinch at his casual movements or your prying eyes on him. You press the green button on each of the machines, starting them off, and soon the clothes start spinning around behind the glass lid as water and soap dances along with it. The familiar sound of the rhythmical circulation soothes you. “Uhm, excuse me?” you then hear a soft voice say from beside you. You turn your head and meet his eyes as he holds his earphones in the palm of his right hand. They no longer occupy his ears, which means now, he is actually able to hear you - which he is currently waiting to do. “Y-yes?” you stutter, immediately feeling a bit embarrassed by your silly shyness. It has got to be the time and the place that make you so self-conscious, since normally, you would not mind talking to a stranger. Of course, it is not every stranger you meet that has such endearing features as his. “I don’t wanna bother you, but I forgot my soaps at my dorm, and I wondered if you could maybe let me borrow some of yours?” he asks politely with a soft expression. Hearing his voice for the first time startles you a little, since it is deeper than you had initially thought, yet so pleasant and calming to listen to. “Of course,” you say, taking your soaps and handing them to him. He sighs with a relieved smile. “Thank you so much,” he says as he receives it. Your fingers graze in the exchange, making you both chuckle a bit nervously. Your eyes meet, and his dimples show again from his smiling expression, and you study them a bit closer this time without being too obvious. He then steps back to his machines and fills in the soaps, seemingly trying to use as little as possible of your stuff. He turns them both on, pressing the green buttons and making them begin swirling around like yours do. He returns to you and hands it back, immediately thanking you again. “I owe you one,” he says. “Don’t worry about it,” you say, shrugging as you place down the soaps in your empty basket on the floor. “I’m Namjoon, by the way,” he then says, reaching out his palm towards you. You meet his, and your soft skins touch as you shake each other’s hands. “I’m Y/N,” you say back, earning a slowly growing smile from him by the sound. “Y/N…” he repeats softly as if storing it in his memory for later use. His grip on you is gentle, and it lingers a few more seconds than what would be considered natural. You do not mind, though. You like the way his warmth embraces you. He slides his hands in the pockets of his sweat as he leans back to rest against the table behind you, suggesting that he is not planning on retreating to his own side of the room again. “Can I ask you something, Y/N?” he says, running a hand through his silver locks that actually look more like a matte grey up close and definitely soft. You ponder on how it would feel to run your own hand through it, but quickly discard the thought, realizing it is a little strange to be wondering about. You nod at his question as you sit yourself on the table next to him, yet still keeping a comfortable distance. “I don’t want it to sound like a line or anything, but what are you doing here so late at night?” he asks, shyness slightly evident in his voice as his eyes study his feet. You sigh as you think of what to say. “Well, I like the quiet here at night. It makes it so peaceful here for some reason,” you explain, hoping not to sound too edgy for his liking. He seems to be captured by what you say, though, since his gaze his back on you, studying your face as you talk. He listens intently as you speak of the calming effect the night and the quiet sounds have on you, and how you like to bring a book sometimes to read, while you wait for your clothes to get done. “What about you?” you ask, hoping to switch the focus onto him for a bit. “I don’t come here for the quiet, exactly, but I do like how peaceful it is, since there is no one around. Except you, of course,” he smiles, sitting back on the table beside you, slouching his shoulders to show comfort in his position. “I like talking to you, though, don’t get me wrong,” he adds, hoping he has not offended you. You chuckle at that, letting him know that you know what he means. “I like talking to you to,” you say. “What were you listening to?” you ask, gesturing to the earphones that still rest in his palms. He looks down at them as if he had forgotten they were even there. “Right, I was just listening to a few tracks of my own, actually,” he says as he fiddles with them between his fingers. “Really?” you ask, surprised at how it suddenly changes your image of him just a bit. It is not that he does not seem as the creative type, but more that it actually fits his personality extremely well now that you think about it. At least from what you can tell from your first impression of him. “Can I hear it?” you then ask boldly, hoping it will not scare him off. You blame the time and the place yet again for your actions, but still want them to pay off for you. He turns his head to look at you, meeting your eyes yet again as if he is considering it. Can he really show something so personal to a girl he has just met? he thinks to himself as he takes in your awaiting features. Your eyes are so calm and inviting, and you seem patient but also hopeful that he will share it with you. It kind of makes him want to do so. He sighs. He cannot believe he is about to do this.  “On one condition,” he says, holding up one of the white earphones towards you without giving it to you just yet. “Yes?” you say, scooting a bit closer and turning to face him a bit better. “You have to be completely honest about what you think of it,” he then states, which surprises you a little. You thought he was making you promise not to laugh, since that would be the typical thing to say, but then again, this boy does not seem typical at all. You nod acceptingly of his term, taking the earphone from his hand and placing it in your right ear. “Okay,” he says as he pulls out his phone from his pocket. He opens up his recordings and scrolls through them to choose one that he deems good enough to share with you. He cannot just pick any song at this point, since a part of him is dying a little to impress the cute girl from the laundromat. He had thought about you a few times over the last few weeks, and sitting next to you now, about to show you something he has never showed anyone, makes his heart beat a little faster. He finally picks one. “Ready?” he asks, trying to make sure that you are actually interested in his stuff. “Ready,” you say, leaning in a tad, failing to hide the casual excitement you feel. He takes his last breath. He presses play and lets the sounds seep through the white plugs, revealing his personal thoughts to you through carefully written lyrics and composed melodies of his own. You listen to it intently, focusing on the words and the way his voice is even deeper when he is rapping. It is such a soothing sensation to listen to as the music carries the vocals, complementing his voice just right. He looks at you, studying your features in hopes of reading your thoughts. He was not kidding on it being his last breath, since he feels as if he might actually die if you do not like his song, which is why he finds himself holding his breath while you listen. However, he does not let it show. He is calm and collected, which allows you the room to think. Before you know it, the song ends and Namjoon pauses it before you are handing him back the earphone. “So?” he asks. He wraps the white strings around his phone as he waits to hear your thoughts. “That was really great, honestly. How do you do that?” you state almost dumbfounded at his obvious talent, making him grin with humble pride. “You really like it?” he asks, not wanting to bore you with the actual process of making a track. You nod immediately. “I love it,” you say genuinely, earning a shy smile from him. You catch a glint of his pearly whites just before they are covered by his hand in a flustered giggle. It warms you how easily he melts under your compliments - how easily his confident exterior is replaced by a shyer version of himself. “Thank you,” he says as he collects himself, smile still evident in his features. “It means a lot,” he adds. It surprises him how open he is being towards you, considering he has been trying to gather courage for weeks just to say hi, when your eyes would meet. It seems silly now that you are talking, since everything comes so naturally. He blames the time and place for that. You continue talking about music, both his and what kind you like to listen to. Surprisingly, you know a lot of the same artists and have a few of your favorites in common. The laundromat is suddenly not as quiet as it usually is, but neither of you mind. The atmosphere is nicer this way.

The dryer dings as it comes to an end, making both of you snap out of the bubble you have created around the two of you. Reality starts to sink in. You hop down from the table and make your way towards it with your basket in hand. “I’m getting really tired now,” Namjoon exhales, rubbing his eyes at the sudden realization. He had not spared it a single thought during your talk, but now it is prominent in his body. “Yeah, me too,” you say as you open up the dryer and pull out the clothing to place down into your basket. Namjoon’s clothes are then done as well, and he mimics your actions with his own clothing. You place the white baskets next to each other on the table and start folding the clothes. Usually, Namjoon would just throw it in and leave, but folding it means getting to spend more time with you, so he picks up a shirt and mirror your movements. “Do you have early classes tomorrow?” he asks as he lifts a hand to cover the tired yawn. “Yeah, unfortunately,” you say, earning an understanding nod from him. It does not take long before all the clothing is folded neatly and placed in each of your basket. You step back to check the machines one last time for any disappearing socks, making Namjoon think to do the same. Suddenly, the quiet is interrupted by a ding from his phone. He pulls it out and reads the words of the message from his friend. His brows furrow, making you wonder what it says. “Uhm, I have to go, my friend needs me,” he states as he meets your eyes. “Oh, okay,” you say slightly worried. He steps back and grabs a basket as he types out his reply for his friend. You run a hand on the inside of the machine to find a single sock lying around. You pull it out and wonder how you always seem to miss it the first time you check. “I’ll see you around, Y/N,” he says as he locks his phone and slides it into his pocket. You meet his eyes from across the room and smile at him. “See you around, Namjoon,” you say, and your gazes lock for a second too long before he smiles kindly and steps back, making his way out of the laundromat. You turn back to the dryer, picking up the sock and holding it in your hand. You fiddle the fabric between your fingers as you think about him. His music really was good, but you had not expected anything different after hearing his comforting voice. Deep and raspy, yet slightly fragile at times when he grows shy in your company. You wonder if he is like that with everybody, or if maybe, just maybe, he might feel more comfortable in your presence as you do in his. You sigh to yourself, realizing you are now alone once again, and the room seems more painfully quiet than it did when you first came here. You step back towards your basket to find the sock’s partner, yet something surprises you. Looking down into the white plastic carrier on the table, you notice t-shirts and sweats that do not belong to you. It is not your basket. It is his. Your eyes dart up at the realization, looking towards the door for him, but finding him gone. “Namjoon!” you call out as you run towards the door and pull it open to step outside. You look back and forth for him, but he is long gone by now. You can only see the dark sky and the prominent stars, but not the tall dimpled college boy that accidentally took your basket instead of his own.

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You take a sip of your coffee, tasting its caffeinated flavor, hoping it will help your tired state. It is 8 AM, and you are sitting in your morning class, waiting for the professor to walk in and present what he has prepared for today’s lesson. You hate having to be here so early, but at least the subject is one of your favorites. It helps to actually be somewhat interested in what is being said, even though lectures typically end with you almost falling asleep with your head resting on your palm. You pull on the sleeves of your hoodie, covering your hands and crossing your arms as you rest back against the chair. It is probably the third day that you are wearing this shirt, but since the laundromat boy basically stole your clothing, you have no choice but to reuse your last clean outfit, which soon will turn dirty as well. You have not seen him for three days, and you are slowly starting to panic, realizing you probably will not be able to wear this again tomorrow. Being a college student means that you cannot just go out and buy a new set of clothes - at least if you still want to eat that is. “Morning everyone,” the teacher says as he enters the room, receiving a few greetings back. You sigh, knowing you are now going to be locked in here for the next hour and a half. Not that you were planning on leaving, but it felt nice to actually have a choice until he showed up. Oh, well, you think to yourself, pulling up your hood and determining that you will only take mental notes for this time. “Morning, Y/N,” you hear a low voice say from beside you, making you turn to look in their direction. “Morning, Taehyung,” you say back at your best friend as you let out a yawn. His eyes are bright and full of energy, which makes you wonder if he is on some drug or something, since he manages to always be so energetic in the morning even when he never drinks coffee. He told you once that he does not like the taste of it and it made you laugh. As if you drink it for the taste, you had thought. “Still haven’t found your mystery man?” he asks, pulling at the hoodie he has seen you in more than enough days in a row. You shake your head. “I know his name, but I have no idea where to find him,” you explain, taking a quick glance around to find that he is not in this class either. Taehyung furrows his brows as he ponders. “He is into music, right? He might be in that one music class,” he then suggests, making your mind toss and turn. “Yeah, maybe,” you say. Tae could be right. Maybe you would be able to find him there, but it seems as a bit of a reach. “You could try,” he adds before leaning back again as the teacher is starting the lesson. You nod at that, deciding that you will check it out later.

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After what has felt as the longest day ever, you finally make your way to your dorm and step inside, being embraced by its hominess. This is the stuff, you think to yourself as you plop down on your bed, letting the softness of the mattress sink you into itself. A deep sigh of relief and relaxation escapes you. You have spent a lot of your day, running around to find Namjoon to no avail. He was nowhere, not even in the music room. It disappoints you, since you had really hoped to have your problems solved today. You have even been to the laundromat again, praying to find him there waiting for you, but of course he was not. He only does his laundry on Mondays. The thought makes you sigh with annoyance, realizing you might have to wait another five days before getting your clothes back. You look down at yourself, noticing that you have a stain on your shirt. You gotta be kidding me? you think to yourself, sitting up and rubbing at the stain that will not be coming off anytime soon. You do not even know what it is from, but you know that it will have to be washed before you can use it again. This is not what you needed right now. “Argh!” you say out loud as you pull off the hoodie, not wanting to wear it any longer. You throw it to the floor and huff, sitting on your bed with your arms crossed and a pout on your lips. However, it does not take long before you realize that your room is way to cold for you to sit there in just a bra. You look over at the white plastic basket by your desk, studying the neatly folded pieces of clean clothes that are practically just lying there and watching you. Before you know it, you are standing above it and going through the pieces, finding a t-shirt and pulling it over your head. It feels a little odd to be wearing a stranger’s t-shirt, but is he really a stranger after all? You know his name and he borrowed your detergent. He even let you hear his music. That would qualify us as friends, right? you defend to yourself, trying to make it less uncomfortable to be wearing his shirt. Thinking about it, it actually feels rather nice. It is soft and warm and most importantly - clean. It also smells like him, and you do not know what to do with that information. You try not to think about it too deeply, knowing it will make you feel like a creep if you do. Suddenly, there is a knock on the door, and you gather it must be your best friend, since he has made it a habit to show up unannounced. Tae always comes over to eat your snacks and hog your bed until he falls asleep and you have to pull out your spare mattress for yourself. You do not mind though, since he is always good company to have around, hence why he is your best friend. You open up the door, but you are not met with a set of familiar energetic eyes. You are met with the sight of a white laundry basket and a tall dimpled college boy, whose expression softens with relief when he sees your face. “Finally!” Namjoon says, slouching his back and smiling widely. “I have been looking all over for you,” he adds with a chuckle. You smile relieved yourself, feeling ecstatic to see him again. Even your heart starts beating faster at the mere sight of him and his matte grey locks. “Come in,” you say, stepping back and leading him inside. He places down the basket on the floor and makes his way to your bed. “Can I?” he asks, gesturing to the mattress, and you nod, causing him to take a seat. “First of all, I am so sorry I took your basket. I swear, it was an accident!” Namjoon immediately starts, hoping with all of his being that you believe him. “As soon as I noticed I ran back to the laundromat, but you were not there anymore, so I didn’t know what to do,” he explains. You sit down beside him, grinning at his nervous and apologetic state. “It’s okay,” you say to calm him down a bit. “No, it’s really not. I should have checked which basket I took. It was so stupid,” he then says, rubbing his face in his hands. “I really hope you don’t hate me,” he adds, peeking out between his fingers, trying to shield his embarrassed features. “Namjoon, it’s fine. I’m just glad that you found me,” you say, pulling at his hands. You do not know why the skinship feels so natural, but neither of you seem bothered by it. It only ignites a spark. “It wasn’t easy, though. I must have knocked on every single door,” he says, grinning as he closes his eyes shut, thinking about it. It makes you laugh. “Well, you get an A for effort,” you say, making him laugh as well. He then sighs, standing up again as he starts to wonder if he might be imposing on you. He takes the basket and places it on your bed next to you as you look up at him. “So, here’s your clothes back, and once again, I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. “Thank you,” you say back with a smile, causing him to smile too. It shows off his adorable dimples, and you feel your heart flutter. “I should go, now,” he states, yet you feel it to be slightly forced, wondering if he might actually want to stay. “Sure,” you say politely, deciding to save the offer for another time if it comes around. You make your way towards the door once again, and he opens it up to step outside. “Don’t forget your own,” you say and grab his basket, handing it to him. “Right,” he chuckles, receiving it from your grip. His gaze falters slightly and lands on a familiar print before him, causing him to grin. “Are you wearing my shirt?” he asks, and you realize that you had just put on one of his t-shirts before he came. You look down at yourself and soon feel your cheeks blush at the realization. “Oh, yeah. I didn’t have any clean shirts left, so…” you start, trying to explain your way out of your embarrassment, but he interrupts you. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he says, smiling at you genuinely. You pull your hair behind your ears, feeling a bit awkward before him without knowing that he finds it extremely cute. Now, it is his heart that flutters. “Oh, you probably want it back,” you say, raising your brows, but he declines. “No, keep it. It looks better on you, anyways,” he says confidently, making your cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink. You only manage to nod back, not trusting your voice to carry your words. “I’ll see you Monday, Y/N,” Namjoon says, and you smile at the thought. “See you Monday,” you say back. He sighs as he breathes in the last gaze at you before he decides to step back. You close the door behind him, and lean against the door, already looking forward to seeing him again.

[guccivnte]

Keep Me

pairing: Jimin x Reader

genre: slightly angsty, fluff, Hybrid!Jimin

words: 2723

—

Yeah, he was right. You were lonely in the apartment you lived in by yourself. Not that you don’t have any friends, which you do, you’ve just been feeling like you were missing something else.

“Plus,” Namjoon added, “If you do adopt one, Yoongi won’t be lonely anymore either, he needs to make more friends,” Namjoon looked at the cat hybrid whose head was laying on your lap as you ran your hand through the soft hair. “People disappoint me,” Yoongi mumbled. You laughed and scratched behind his ears with both hands, causing him to purr softly and nuzzle his head in your lap and wrap his arms around your waist.

“I guess you’re right,” You agreed with your best friend. He’s been bugging you to adopt a hybrid ever since he realized how close you were with his own hybrid. He also thought that you needed something new in your life, other then the same familiar faces, and that something just so happened to be a hybrid.

“I guess the apartment is a bit boring with only one person,” you have an over exaggerated sigh as you traced your finger on Yoongi’s face, outlining all the details, causing him to slightly smile contently. “I’ll go to the adoption center tomorrow, you can come with me if you want?” You offered to Namjoon.

“Of course,” He smiled. “We need to make sure you pick the perfect one because I can’t have you stealing my cat from me,” Namjoon faked a pout as you laughed.

—

Today is the day that you are going to go look for a hybrid to adopt. To say the least, you were excited yet scared. Excited to finally be able to have your own hybrid but scared that whoever you adopted, wouldn’t like you. You thought of the million scenarios that could go happen once you adopted, and now you were becoming anxious.

“Y/N,” Namjoon placed his hand on your arm lightly, causing you to shake away from the thoughts you were having. “We’re here,” He smiled at you. You smiled and quickly unbuckled your seatbelt, practically jumping out of the car. “Let’s go!” You tugged at your friends arm as soon as he shut the door, causing him to stumble or his feet.

“Hey careful! You’re going to kill someone,” He laughed. You quickly let go of the tall boy, your arms falling limply to your side as your cheeks were tinted pink in embarrassment. You both walked through the door, your excitement came rushing through, knocking your fear down to the floor as you looked around the building.

There were different rooms labeled with hybrid names. There were large glass windows on the walls so you were able to see what the hybrids were doing. The dogs were play wrestling or throwing a football, the bunnies were playing bored games or soccer and the cats were in groups talking to each other or lazily throwing things in the air. You looked to see that there were more rooms with more hybrids, such as foxes, tigers leopards and more.

Your eyes widened in astonishment, you’ve never seen anything like it in your life. You saw a lady walking towards you. Namjoon leant down to whisper in your ear that he was going to go to the car because he didn’t want to influence your options, in the end it was all about what you wanted. You smiled gratefully at him and turned towards the girl who was now in front of you.

“Hello, my name is Layla,” She pointed down to the nametag that was pinned to the royal blue shirt she wore. “Are you wanting to adopt a hybrid today?” She asked, you giving a nod in return. “Great!” She clapped her hands. “Would you like to look around or is their a specific breed you would like to look at?”

“Actually I wanted to look at the cats,” You looked to the left side of the room where the cats were at. “Okay then, follow me,” Layla began walking towards the cats. “You can look around and when you find one that interests you, just tell me and I’ll bring you two to a quiet room so you can chat.”

You smiled at her once more before she walked back to the front desk and filled it paperwork. You looked through the window at the hybrids. They were all very beautiful, with their long tails and soft ears. You sighed, this was going to be harder than you thought.

How the hell did Namjoon pick Yoongi?

As you watched the hybrids, most gave you sweet smiles while others gave you sour glares. You frowned a bit, but kept searching. Grey, almost silver hair, caught your eyes as you were glancing around. Confused, your eyebrows furrowed together. It was a boy who seemed pretty close to your age sitting alone in the corner of the room in a reclining chair, he sat with his chin on his knees while his tail waved around lazily. He seems to be watching the other cats around him.

“Excuse me?” You called out to Layla who walked over to you with a smile. “Did you see one you like?” She asked. “Yeah uh, the one in the corner of the room, with the grey hair,” You pointed to the boy who looked bored, almost sad, which caused you to frown again. “Jimin?” Layla asked. “Oh he’s sweet, very, very shy at first, but also very sweet and adorable. I’ll go get him.”

You waited for Layla and looked into the room. Pretty much all of the cats stopped what they were doing and watched as Layla guided Jimin through the room to you. His head down all the way; red burning onto his cheeks. “Follow me you two,” Layla showed you both to a room and gave you a thumbs up before softly shutting the door.

The room was small, two couches with a window across from the door and a coffee table with a vase right in the middle. You and Jimin sat on either couches. His head was still down and his tail was shaking anxiously. Shit, you were so kept to yourself that you didn’t know how to start a conversation. What were you supposed to say? ‘Hi Jimin, I’m Y/N and I think your adorable so I’m going to adopt you’? No, you can’t do that.

“H-hi, Jimin,” You said, your voice coming out quieter then expected. Jimin’s ears perked up slightly, notifying you that he was listening. “Um, well I’m Y/N, I’m a photographer, I like food, and yeah that’s it, I’m pretty boring,” You scratched the back of your head awkwardly, not knowing what the hell you were doing.

You heard a very faint laugh and almost melted. The hybrid that sat in front of you was beautiful. He wore black joggers with a plain tee and old beat up converse. We’re definitely going shopping after this, you thought to yourself. His hair was a grey/silver color which you already loved, his ears being a lighter grey, but matching perfectly with his hair.

“Well I don’t know what the hell im doing,” You admitted with a laugh. Jimin looked up at you with a shy smile, he liked the sound of your laugh. “How long have you been here?” You asked the shy boy. He held up ten fingers, while you furrowed your eyebrows once more. “Ten days?” You asked and he shook his head. “Ten months,” Another head shake. “Ten years?” You asked quietly, hoping it wasn’t and that it was just ten hours or some crazy shit.

The boy nodded and looked back down at his shoes again. You let out a small ‘oh’. This poor boy. How could anyone not want him? “Do you like it here?” You asked him. No answer. “Would you like to come live with me?” Again, no answer. Does he not want to be adopted. Oh no, did you cross a line somewhere? You don’t know where you could’ve but some people are just really sensitive in some places.

You decided to ask him once more, not wanting to give up just yet. “Jimin,” You asked, softer this time, “Do you like it here?” After a a few hesitant moments, the boy slowly shook his head. Your heart dropped, he looked so sad and you just wanted to pull him into a hug. “How about you come home with me then, yeah? I promise it’s way better than this place.”

He looked up at you, this time being the one confused. “W-why would you want someone like m-me?” He pointed at his chest with his small fingers. Your own chest stopped moving, his voice sounding so angelic. “Why wouldn’t I want someone like you?” You asked, wanting to know why he asked that.

“W-we’ll I mean, people don’t like s-shy and quiet cats. They’re stubborn and too much to deal with,” He explained with a whisper loud enough for you to hear. “At least that’s w-what the workers say to m-me,” He finished. Somehow this boy already managed to shatter your heart into millions of pieces wth in ten minutes. Your hand flew to your mouth, fighting back the tears, you stood up.

Your chest hurt from the words he spoke. “Jimin,” you spoke softly. “No one should ever tell you you’re not good enough because you act a certain way. You’re fine just the way you are, don’t let anyone tell you any different. Now come on, I’m getting you out of this hell hole.”

You felt so torn at the way the workers treated Jimin. Lord only knows how they treat the other poor hybrids locked up. Jimin tensed up at you suddenly grabbing his wrist, you then began rubbing his soft skin with the thumb. He loosened up slightly, but not enough. “I would like to adopt him,” You told Layla. She gave you weird look but held a smile and handed you the right paper work. You let go of Jimin’s hand and signed what you needed to. “Good luck, Park Jimin!” Layla called as you and your newly found hybrid walked out the door and to your friends car.

You thanked Namjoon for the ride to your apartment building and you and Jimin took the elevator up to your floor. The whole ride the cat hybrid stayed quiet with his hands clasped together tightly in his lap but his eyes looking out the window surprised. You had calmed down on the way and was now feeling a little bit guilty on lashing out on Jimin, even though you didn’t raise your voice.

You opened the door and waited for Jimin to walk in before shutting and locking it. He stood in the middle of the living room and looked around. He soon met with your staring eyes, quickly looking down so you couldn’t see the blush creeping on his cheeks. “Well this is my home, I know it’s not much but its mine and I love it,” You presented to the boy, waving your arms.

“It looks cozy,” jimin whispered which caused you to give him a warm smile. “Follow me,” You told him, walking down to the middle of your long hallway. You opened a light brown door which showed a fairly big room. The bed had white covers and pillows, a white desk and black chair sat in the corner of the room and a white dresser sat in the other corner. Other than that, the room was really spacious.

“This is, m-my room? Like my own?” Jimin asked, genuinely confused. You almost cried out because you knew that at the adoption center they didn’t have their own privacy let alone their own bedrooms. “It sure is,” You nodded at him. “Right now it’s pretty empty but we can go shopping tomorrow to get whatever you want,” You explained.

“I know you’re probably tired or you just want to relax today so you can take a nap or watch tv on the couch while I go make dinner,” You then walked to the kitchen. As soon as you walked into the room you pulled out your phone and and called Namjoon. “Hello?” He answered after a few rings. “

Namjoon!” You said loudly, but not loud enough for Jimin to be alarmed. “What’s wrong, Y/N? Is everything okay?” Your best friend asked worriedly. “No,” You shook your head, knowing he couldn’t see you. “Well, kind of, not really,” You sighed confused.

“Is it about Jimin? What happened?” He asked. “Kind of,” you sighed deeply, rubbing your forehead with your hand. “It’s about before I adopted him,” You could feel yourself growing angry just at the thought of the conversation you shared with your newly adopted hybrid. You then continued to tell him what Jimin had told you as you started to make pasta.

“I just felt so torn and it made me want to adopt him even more,” You told Namjoon, mixing the noodles with the sauce. “Well thank the gods you did,” He replied. “The poor boy looked so nervous when he got into the car, when he told you what he did, while he was at the adoption center he most likely didn’t get the attention he needed, but most hybrids don’t,” Namjoon informed you.

“It just angers me that someone would say something to someone else like that,” You sighed, starting to set up plates and utensils on the table. “Hybrid or not, no one should be treated like they’re scum.”

“I agree one hundred and ten percent,” You could tell Namjoon was nodding on the other line. “Thanks Joonie, but for now I have to go, dinners ready, I’ll call you tomorrow,” You got ready to hang up. “Bye!” He called as you pressed the red button and set your phone on the counter.

You walked to Jimin’s room, you didn’t shut his door because you didn’t know if he wanted you to or not. You peeked in and you could see him rolling around on the bed and cuddling into the blankets.

You let out a loving laugh at the adorable boy, causing him to look up in terror. He stopped rolling around and slowly sat up, his cheeks flushing fiercely. “S-sorry,” He muttered. “Don’t be sorry, it’s your room,” You assured him that it was okay. “Now come on, dinners ready, I hope you like pasta,” You turned around and walked back to the kitchen. You heard light patters on the hardwood floor behind you.

You set a plate on your spot then one across you for Jimin. You picked up your fork about to stuff your mouth but noticed Jimin hasn’t sat down. “What’s wrong? Do you not like pasta?” You asked worriedly. “You didn’t need him hating you because he didn’t like what you made for dinner, even it was for something as dumb as that, you didn’t want him and at you.

“No, it’s n-not that,” He shook his head quickly, instantly feeling guilty for making you worry. “I’m just– I’m not allowed to eat at the table with my owner, or in front of them f-for that matter,” He answered, looking down at his feet. “I won’t have that,” You shook your head, disagreeing with that stupid rule. “You’re not my pet, Jimin,” You told him, wanting to cringe at that horrible word. “You are my friend so therefore you can sit at the table and we can eat together.”

“And that goes for everything else,” You nodded at Jimin who sat at the table hesitantly. “You can do whatever you like, what’s mine is yours. Just please, whatever you do, don’t break anything,” You laughed and started to eat. Jimin smiled at you thoughtfully. He then started to eat and once he started he didn’t stop. You chuckled to yourself as you watched him fondly.

He was going to get along just fine.

—

part two ?

[whipped-for-kpop-fics]

What could go wrong?

This was supposed to be just a lil crack oneshot but here we are almost 3k words later. 

I hope you get at least a little entertainment/amusement from this and I hope someone has a lil giggle over it other than me while I wrote it.

Genre; BTS magic au. crack. bad grown up words. Chee thinks she’s funny...again and also she doesn’t think shit through before writing

Jin likes to make potions and with Taehyung’s help, test it on the rest of BTS AKA

Jin fucks up a Youth potion with Taehyung’s help and they use their unsuspecting friends as human guinea pigs

The room was bright and spacious with counters and shelves full of various looking liquids and solid forms that honestly, Taehyung couldn’t name. That’s not to say his intelligence was lacking exactly but bluntly put, his intelligence was lacking in everything that didn���t hold his interest(and some things that did). Science was certainly not something that interested him in the slightest bit.

“Ah! You’re here!” Jin exclaimed popping up from behind a counter where he had been rummaging in the cupboard. He placed a brass pot on the countertop as Taehyung stood on the other side, watching his elder curiously.

“Why are we in Namjoon’s lab exactly, hyung?” Taehyung replied, eyes glued to the pot as Jin started to pour different liquids inside. “You don’t know anything about science.”

“But I do know magic!” Jin grinned. “Did you bring what I asked?” Taehyung nodded and pulled the small vial of dragon’s blood from his jacket pocket. He held it out, watching as Jin’s eyes glistened with excitement and he snatched the vile, holding it to his body protectively. His eyes flickered with a look of adoration as he eyed the vial and Taehyung was pretty much waiting for him to hiss out “my preciousss”.

“Why did you ask me to bring that? Hyung must have something similar around here.” Taehyung looked around curiously.

“How many times must I tell you, Taehyung? Science and magic don’t mix therefore I cannot use any of Namjoon’s ingredients to make my potions.”

“He doesn’t know you’re here, does he?” Taehyung realised, a shit-eating grin stretching his cheeks as Jin pouted down into the pot, vial in his right hand as he stirred the mixture with his left. “Ah hyung, are you having relationship troubles?” Taehyung teased.

“No. We’re doing great, thank you very much.” Jin snapped then took a breath and straightened up. “He just-he doesn’t agree with my potions.”

“Don’t tell Yoongi-hyung that, he’ll only rub it in. I can hear him now. I told you magic and science doesn’t work and neither does a scientist and fucking magician.” Taehyung imitated Yoongi in an exaggerated gruff tone that made Jin snort out a laugh.

“Magician. He always makes me sound like I pull rabbits from hats.” Jin scoffed, rolling his eyes.

“You did though,” Taehyung mumbled.

“That was once, Taehyung and I’d appreciate it if you stop bringing it up. It’s not my fault Jungkook drunk the potion. I told him not to.”

“He thought it was a protein shake,” Taehyung remembered with a giggle. 

They both looked down at the pot at the mixture started to steam and bubble. 

“Is that supposed to happen?”

“Yes, I know what I’m doing.” Jin scoffed, sprinkling in a handful of what Taehyung could only describe as dried gnome penis’ into the mix. He made a face of disgust.

“And..what exactly is it that you’re doing?” He enquired, shuffling back cautiously.

Jin had only been dabbling with magic for ten months but he was impatient and decided to wander from the path very quickly. He often attempted potions that the sane only tried their hand at after their progression to a full-fledged wizard. But of course, Jin decided that he didn’t care for all the labels and would brew whatever magic he wanted. His friends decided that if he had earned the right to be called Sorcerer, he wouldn’t dismiss the title as easily as Apprentice.

“A youth potion.” Jin looked at Taehyung as if he held all the universe’s secrets in his brass pot. Taehyung only stared, blinking rapidly as he tried to understand his elder’s excitement. “A beauty potion, Taehyung!” Jin reiterated and then, Taehyung’s expression matched his own.

“Oh!” Taehyung stepped up close to the counter and peered into the pot. “You finally found one!”

“It took a lot of research and trips to obscure little run down magic shops but yes, I finally have found the potion that will help me regain my youthful glow!” Taehyung’s eyes lifted to take in Jin’s appearance. 

Jin was only 3 years older than Taehyung and honestly, the age gap wasn’t visibly obvious to most but as Taehyung had known Jin for a few years already, the younger could notice the subtle signs of ageing Jin’s features showed.

“Ah, so that is why the dragon’s blood.” Taehyung hummed in understanding.

Dragon’s blood was known to have numerous benefits for the skin. Halting wrinkles. Maintaining a healthy complexion. Preventing blackheads. Minimising pores. The list goes on. Taehyung applied it ritually to his skin morning and night and he had never glowed so much in all his life.

“Yep, having a friend in the fashion industry has its perks.”

“Why can you never call me what I am? I’m a model hyung. My face is worldwide famous.” Taehyung pouted sulkily. Jin had never called Taehyung by his actual job title.

“Do you call me by mine?”

“You don’t have a job.” Taehyung scoffed. “You quit when you discovered magic.”

“I still own and run restaurants in three major cities, I’ll have you know.” Jin defended, giving Taehyung an offended look. “And they are all doing amazing, for your information.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever you say hyung.” Taehyung rolled his eyes before turning his attention back to the potion. “So, this potion, it’ll make the user look younger?”

“Yep.” Jin nodded. “Ah, Joonie is going to be so surprised!” He beamed happily at the thought of his boyfriend’s joy. “I mean, once he gets over that we went behind his back and used his lab without permission.”

“What? We?!” Taehyung gawped. “What do you mean we?!”

“You’re here, you supplied the vital ingredient.” He wiggled the vial as if to remind the male opposite him.

“I didn’t know what for! I didn’t know you’re making a youth potion!”

“Why else would I be at Namjoon’s lab?” Jin scoffed as if it was obvious.

“To visit your boyfriend maybe, I dunno?”

“Don’t sass me if you want your share of the potion.”

“My share?” Taehyung enquired, attitude flipping so fast as he leant on the counter, a sweet smile on his face. “You’re sharing with me Jinnie-hyung?”

“Of course.” Jin gave an almost too kind smile back and something twisted in Taehyung’s stomach. Suspicion.

“Why are you smiling like that?”

“Like what? I always smile like this, Taehyung.” He chuckled, waving a hand dismissively as he turned his attention to remove the cap from the vial. Taehyung gave him a disbelieving look but decided to push the subject aside to pay attention to the blood dripping into the potion. As the blood hit the ominous, bubbling, black liquid, slivers of silver rippled across the surface to rapidly disappear underneath.

Jin replaced the cap and they both peered into the pot. They squinted in confusion when nothing happened.

“Is that right?” Taehyung whispered as if he would disturb the potion and ruin it.

“Of course it is, I made it,” Jin whispered back harshly.

Suddenly spots of shimmering silver appeared on the surface and ribboned out to one another until there wasn’t a speck of black left.

“Well, that’s appetising,” Jin grumbled sarcastically as the liquid settled and turned a dull, grey colour.

“Put more in,” Taehyung suggested.

“What?”

“Dragon’s blood. Put more in.”

“I followed the recipe.”

“The greater the amount, the greater the effect.” Jin scrunched his eyebrows in uncertainty. “Come on hyung, it’s a beauty product, a natural, ingredient that I have been smothering on my face twice a day for two years. What’s the worst that could happen?”

Any normal person would hear those words and nope straight out of there. “What’s the worst that could happen” is a rhetorical question that attracts the very worst that is overlooked in the implication. Everyone knows that nothing ever turns out right when those words are uttered. Everyone except Kim Seokjin it seems. Guess he didn’t get that memo.

“You’re right.” Jin decided and Taehyung smiled in proud satisfaction as Jin opened the vial back up and poured the remainder of the thick, deep purple liquid into the pot.

The reaction was quicker that time. Only a few seconds pass between the initial rippling of silver to the splotches appearing on the surface. Once the surface settled, what remained was no longer a grotesque sludge grey. It wasn’t exactly the sparkling silver either. It was somewhere in the middle of the two. A pale, shimmering grey.

“That’s kind of pretty.” Taehyung cooed. “Is it finished?” Jin nodded and carefully transferred the mixture into two jars.

“You only need a couple of drops at a time, about a teaspoon,” Jin informed, securing the lids tightly.

“Okay.” Taehyung helped Jin clean up and put everything back in order so that Namjoon wouldn’t notice anyone had invaded his private workspace.

Only once everything was back in it’s place did the pair return to the two jars. Jin opened one jar and held a small spoon out to Taehyung. “Me?” He asked surprised. “I am not trying it first!”

“Yes, you are if you want some,” Jin spoke through his teeth as he smiled sweetly at his younger.

“Hyung!” Taehyung gasped accusingly.

“What?” Jin scoffed, his smile dropping. “You seriously expect me to try out a potion I found in a dusty old book from three centuries ago on myself?”

“Well, I’m not going to be your test subject.” Jin pouted. “No!”

“Great, how are we supposed to test it now?” The pair fell into thoughtful silence as they mulled over the possibilities, occasionally mumbling a suggestion out loud only for the other to shoot it down.

“Aren’t we all going to your house tonight for dinner?” Taehyung suddenly remembered, looking up at Jin with an idea in his eyes. Jin tilted his head slightly in curiosity but simply nodded. “Well, we could always slip it into someone’s drink…”

“Are you saying we roofie our friends?” Jin gasped dramatically.

“Like you haven’t done it before.” Taehyung sniggered.

“True.” Jin also giggled. “Who should be our target?”

“Everyone.” Taehyung’s eyes widened with an evil excitement that honestly kind of scare Jin.

“No, Taehyung, we cannot do it to everyone.”

“Why?” The boy whined, frowning in disappointment.

“Because if it goes wrong-”

“Then they’ll all have the same symptoms and we can pass it off as some kind of weird bug.” Jin fell silent as Taehyung’s fast suggestion. “We can just stick to water and they can all have some of that punch you made last time!”

“And why will we be drinking water, not alcohol?”

“Because you’re cooking and I can’t drink alcohol right now due to the show coming up.” Jin’s eyes sparkled with eager enthusiasm to put their plan into action realising that for once, they had a foolproof idea.

What could go wrong?

***

Taehyung and Jin found themselves watching in fear as before their very eyes, Jungkook started to shrink in his chair.

“What is happening?!” He yelled frantically, looking at his hands that shrunk in front of him. His eyes snapped to Seokjin, about to start questioning him but he was shrinking at such a rapid rate that he couldn’t form the words.

“What did you do?!” Namjoon shrieked, looking at Jin with terrified eyes.

“Honey I shrunk the kids?” Jin offered lamely only to yelp in surprise when Namjoon started to shrink too. “No! Joonie!” He yelled desperately, grabbing hold of his boyfriend but of course, there was nothing he could do. Jin’s attention was glued to Namjoon but Taehyung’s eyes darted from person to person as slowly, five of his friends reverted to toddlers.

“I think you didn’t read the recipe properly,” Taehyung mumbled, watching wide-eyed as Hoseok started to bawl in his chair.

“Me?! You told me to add more dragon’s blood!” Jin defended looking at Taehyung, his eyes just as wide as Taehyung’s. “I shouldn’t have listened to you!”

“I need to poop.” The pair looked over at the small voice, landing on Jimin’s eyes staring at them across the table. “Jiminie needs helpies.” He pouted, making grabby hands across the table.

“Ohmygod, we turned our friends into babies,” Jin mumbled. At that moment, Namjoon fell of the chair while trying to reach Jin and burst into tears. “Oh shit!” He reached out and pulled Namjoon up onto his lap to cradle the little boy.

“Oooh, hyung said a bad worrrdddd!” Yoongi giggled, pointing at Jin.

“Is okay Hoseokie,” Jimin spoke, patting Hoseok on the head while the boy still cried his eyes but out for what reason, Jin and Taehyung certainly didn’t know.

“I want cake,” Jungkook announced.

“What? You haven’t eaten your dinner yet.” Jin responded automatically, not even realising until he had finished talking.

“But I don’t like yucky vegetables.” Jungkook made a face and pushed his plate away.

“I need to poop.” Jimin reminded, looking at Taehyung while still patting Hoseok’s head. “Taehyungie, Jiminie needs to poop.”

“Go then,” Taehyung responded, making a face. “I’m not taking you.”

“But I need help.” Jimin frowned.

“You’ve pooped on your own before, hyung.” All five little boys suddenly stopped what they were doing to giggle madly.

“You called Jiminie, hyung!” Namjoon snorted, wiping his nose with the back of his way oversized sleeve. Jin made a face of disgust at the action.

“That is your best shirt, Namjoon!” Jin scolded. Namjoon looked up at Jin with wide eyes that brimmed with tears at his elder’s loud tone. “Oh no, don’t cry, I’m sorry.” Jin panicked, holding the boy back to his chest.

***

It was precisely 9:57 by the time all five little boys had fallen asleep wearing just a t-shirt each that reached their feet, not even underwear underneath. Taehyung and Jin finished tucking them into Jin and Namjoon’s king sized bed, glad Namjoon had insisted on getting such a big bed, before flopping down on the sofa together. They were practically dead on their feet. They never realised looking after toddlers was so tired. They suddenly had a great respect for parents, including their own.

“What are we going to do?” Taehyung whined.

“My boyfriend is a three-year-old,” Jin mumbled distantly. “The love of my life is three years old!” He squeaked, looking at Taehyung with wide eyes. “Ohmygod, I feel like such a creep. I’m going to get arrested!”

“Unless you do something to him now, I’m sure you’ll be fine.” Taehyung scoffed. “You don’t plan on treating him as your boyfriend anymore, do you, hyung?”  

“No, of course not.” Jin scoffed. “Don’t be absurd.”

“Well, stop saying stupid things.” They both groaned as they heard a whining coming from the bedroom.

“Not it.” They both spoke. Neither had the energy to argue let alone move so they stayed still and quickly, the noises stopped. They sighed in relief.

“Seriously though hyung, what are we going to do about this? Is there an antidote?”

“No.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah.”

“So...what are we going to do?”

“No idea.” Silence fell upon them as they tried to think of a solution to their seemingly impossible situation. “Put them up for adoption?” Jin joked earning an unimpressed look. “I was joking...sort of.”

“I think...we’re going to have to raise them, hyung.”

“Don’t say that,” Jin whined. “I’m too pretty and young to be a father to five.”

“And I’m not?!” Another silence fell upon them.

“I guess, we’re going to have to do it.”

“Do what?”

“Get married and buy a house.”

“You’re being ridiculous.”

“I’m sorry that I don’t want our children to grow up in single-parent households getting passed between homes for the rest of their lives.” Jin huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he sulked, turning his back to Taehyung for extra dramatics. “Why don’t you want the best for them, Taehyung?”

“I do.” Taehyung groaned and moved over to gently put a hand on Jin’s waist soothingly. “I just, I don’t love you like that.” Jin sniffled. “I’m sorry.”

“Why aren’t I good enough for you?” Taehyung sighed and hugged Jin.

“You’re just not up to my standards, hyung. I’m an international model, you’re just an Apprentice.” Jin gasped and jumped up, pushing Taehyung away.

“You can sleep on the couch tonight.”

“What? No. Hyung, let me share the bed.” Taehyung whined following Jin to the guest bedroom. Jin just closed the door in his face making Taehyung groan loudly in annoyance. “Fine! I’m going out! Have fun looking after them alone!” He hit the door with his palm before turning, only to find Namjoon and Jimin looking up at him with wide eyes, their little pudgey hands connected. “Oh, why aren’t you in bed?” Taehyung softened and crouched down to talk to the boys at their level.

“Jiminie wanted me to come with him,” Namjoon explained. He looked past Taehyung to the door. “Is Jin-hyung in bed?”

“Yeah, he just went in.”

“Did you have a fight?”

“No.” Taehyung smiled lightly. “Just a little disagreement.”

“Can I sleep with hyung tonight?” Namjoon looked up at Taehyung hopefully. While Taehyung hesitated for a response, the door opened and Namjoon beamed at the sight of Jin smiling down at him.

“Of course you can Joonie, come and give hyung big bedtime cuddles!” He encouraged so Namjoon ran forward with arms held up. Jin immediately picked him up and returned into the room, closing the door behind him.

“Hyung.” Jimin spoke softly as he tugged Taehyung’s t-shirt to gain his attention.

“Yes, Jiminie?” Taehyung smiled gently at the adorable little boy.

“I need to poop.” Taehyung’s face dropped.

“Again?” Jimin just nodded so Taehyung sighed and got up. “Okay, but we really need to look into this. No kid should poop this much.” Jimin took Taehyung’s outstretched hand and together they went to the bathroom where Taehyung had to hold Jimin on the seat so the child didn’t fall in.

Jin and Taehyung were in separate rooms looking after different children but they both had the exact same thought.

How the fuck am I going to look after these kids?

Honestly, I don’t even remember what prompted me to write this but something did and now here we are just over 2 hours later. I’m as confused as youa ll about this whole thing but hey, congrats for sitting through it haha

Honestly(y am I so honest tonite tho), this was actually a pretty cool idea and I’ve never seen anything like it and I was thinking of making a lil series after this part called “Babysitting Bangtan” to show Tae and Jin raising the little kiddos but this one part took me longer than I intended so I’m not gonna pointlessly write more for my own entertainment lol

~Chee

[welovekpopscenarios]

Cliches (Jimin x Reader)

Admin: Mimi

Prompt/Ask: Jimin request. He's the nerd at school and is unpopular and is bullied. Your popular and don't really pay attention to him even tho he try's to get your attention .Your boyfriend cheats on you and you fall and turn for the only person that has been interested in you from the start jimin

Fandom: BTS

Genre: Fluff, bit of angst

Pairing: Jimin x Reader

Warnings: language

Word Count: 3040

Authors Note: Wow, what’s this? An actual story from me? Who would have thought because I’m such a disappointment amirite lmao. Thank you for the request! No hate to Jongin btw lol his name was the first that popped into my head. Hope this is ok since I kinda tweaked it a bit, and happy reading! I hope I can get back into the swing of things after my absence.

It’s debatable as to whether everyone loves or hates a cliché; but I think it’s agreeable that everyone hates being a cliché. Which, unfortunately, is how Jimin’s life ended up. As Taehyung had put it – the nerd who’s in love with the popular girl, the girl loved by everyone, the untouchable. Jimin gave him a swift punch to the shoulder for that one, he wasn’t a nerd, just…on the quieter, more introverted side. He may value my studies more than going out, but that doesn’t mean he’s a nerd, does it? (Taehyung begs to differ, but what does he know, he goes out all the time so of course he’d look like a nerd to him).

But, as much as he hates to say it, it was painfully true. Jimin was unmistakably in love with one of the most popular, most beautiful girls of his school. And while it normally wouldn’t stop him from talking to her or being her friend – after all, a person is a person, no matter their status – the fear of talking to a girl way out of his league, a girl surrounded by less than friendly faces, stops him from ever making a move, keeping interactions to the occasional heart-melting smile thrown his way in the halls, or the sweet little hello you say when you take your seat in front of him in your history class.

The pain is doubled by the fact that you have a boyfriend that you love undoubtedly, spending every moment possible in school with Jongin, arguably one of the douchiest, most self-centred assholes to grace the halls of this miserable institution. Well, that was according to Jimin. But no one really disagrees when he says he’s a horrible person, and a person completely undeserving of your never-ending love and care. You don’t deserve someone who brushes aside your opinions, who ignores you in favour of his phone, who blatantly stares at others girls asses while he’s unworthily graced with your presence, your light, your smiles…Jimin could go on and on for hours, honestly. (He has, but Namjoon had given him a whack on his head and told him he’s distracting him from his homework.)

You deserve someone who will always listen to your fears and worries, wrapping an arm around your shoulders and bringing you close to whisper sweet words of encouragement when you need it most. You deserve someone who will give you their undivided attention, for only you matter in the world to them. You deserve someone who will treat you like the queen you are, the most important person in the room and the only one who should be looked at.

Jimin could be that guy, if only for the stupid social classes keeping him at an unreachable distance, even when you sit as close to him as you do in history class.

“If you stare at her any longer flies are going to fly straight into your mouth,” Yoongi groaned from his position beside Jimin in the cafeteria. It was a dreary Thursday, stormy conditions forcing students to spend their only bout of freedom inside the confines of this prison so kindly labelled as ‘school’. The cafeteria was alive with chatter despite the gloominess of the rain pelting against the windows and the basic greys of the walls, students busy conversing about whatever gossip they had to share.

At Yoongi’s comment, Jimin shook his head and shut his mouth, returning his attention to the greasy fries the cafeteria offered as an excuse for lunch, and picked at them with his fork. Yoongi was obviously right, he had been staring at you, the only colourful thing capable of lighting up this room, shining brighter than any diamond possibl-

“Are you even listening?” Namjoon asked, and once again Jimin was caught off guard, jumping slightly at his voice and looking up at him with wide eyes. Namjoon scoffed in amusement. “You look like a deer that’s about to get run over. You have it bad.”

“I do not,” Jimin muttered indignantly, pushing his tray of fries away disinterestedly.

“Yes, you do,” Yoongi countered, rolling his eyes when Jimin pouted at him. “As Namjoon was saying, why don’t you actually say something to her other than a hello? You’ve talked to her before, I don’t get what the problem is now,” Yoongi rose a brow, his dark eyes zeroing in on Jimin who wilted embarrassingly underneath his heavy stare.

Yoongi wasn’t wrong. He did talk to you before, quite a bit actually. Years ago, when you had both started high school and were young, you had been paired up for a science project and worked together on creating a poster about the respiratory system for two weeks, and Jimin considers those two weeks to be both a blessing and a curse; for while he had fun and fell in love with you during those two weeks, he hasn’t been out of love with you since then. And despite getting along great, you both had never talked to one another since that project, instead staying on friendly terms.

“The problem is, is that she already has a boyfriend-“

“He’s a dim-witted dickhead,” Yoongi interrupted, smirking when Namjoon laughed around his sandwich at his alliteration. “She can do better, and you’re better. All you have to do is talk to her.”

Jimin sighed and scratched at his brow. “It’s not as easy as that, Yoongi,” Jimin mumbled, tired of hearing the same conversation over and over again. “Please just drop it.”

Namjoon gave him a look of pity while Yoongi just sighed and redirected his attention to his phone.

“All I’m saying is, you’re way better than Jongshit, you’re kind and smart. Everyone knows this. If she can’t see that then she’s as stupid as he his. All you have to do is talk to her, and she’ll know you’re the one for her. But fine. If you don’t want to talk about it, then I won’t bring it up. I’m sick of trying to tell you at this point. It’s been years, and if you’re content with pining for the rest of your life, or living with regret at not knowing what would have happened if you had just made a move, then be my guest. I’m not gonna help you anymore,” he ridiculed, and Jimin’s face burned hot in humiliation and anger. Yoongi can really get under people’s skin sometimes.

Noticing the growing tension at the table, Namjoon cleared his throat after sipping his water bottle, and brought attention to himself.

“I almost forgot to ask, are you both still coming to the dance on Saturday? It’s supposed to be a dance to raise funds for charity, everyone’s going,” he asked, eyes flitting between the two boys seated across from him. Yoongi shrugged indifferently, which could mean anything – it was Yoongi after all, but Jimin looked uncertain, biting at the skin of his plush lips and furrowing his brows.

“I don’t know…I don’t have a date…” he said quietly, running his fingers through his hair and grimacing down at the surface of the table. Namjoon chuckled lightly and shook his head.

“You don’t have to have one. No one cares if you don’t bring one to this dance, since it’s only a small one for charity. None of us in the group have dates, surprisingly. Not even Tae,” Namjoon laughed in disbelief, Yoongi huffing in amusement. “We were just going to go as a group, as friends. That’s what most people are doing anyway. So, you in?”

As a group? That didn’t seem so bad, and Jimin didn’t have to stress out about finding someone to go with him. Plus, he’ll probably see you, looking all pretty and elegant in a dress, dancing and swaying your hips to the beat, you’d catch his eyes and smile at him, beckoning him over by crooking a finger with a sultry look in your eyes…

“Y-yeah,” his voice cracked, and Namjoon choked on his spit from laughter. Even Yoongi laughed loudly, eyes crinkling at the edges at Jimin’s misfortune. Jimin cleared his throat. “Yeah, I’m in,” he spoke deeply, eager to rectify the situation.

“Ok, we’re meeting at Hobi’s house at seven, don’t forget,” Namjoon informed after his laughter died down, gathering his things and standing up, slinging his bag over his shoulder just in time for the school bell to ring throughout the cafeteria and drown out the sounds of students groaning. “See you in English.” And with that, he shuffled out of the room with the rest of the students, Jimin and Yoongi quick to follow. Sparing one look at your form as you made your way down the halls with Jongin’s hand placed dangerously low on your back, Jimin sighed and headed into his geography class, the rain still going heavy outside.

It's amazing how, with a little preparation and creativity, someone can completely transform an ugly, smelly gym into a beautiful venue for people to have fun in. The ceiling had streamers and decorations of various shades of blue thrown around, the occasional silver being tossed in and adding a shimmering effect to the large room. Tables were set up around the edges of the room, offering classic bowls of punch and other non-alcoholic drinks issued by the school to keep teens quiet and peaceful. Glitter covered nearly every surface of the room possible, glowing as the gleam from the flickering disco lights hit it. People were up dancing in the centre of it all, leaving no room for Jesus as Jin had put it, grinding and moving as the cheap DJ blared the latest hits found on radio stations once everyone had paid the small fee at the entrance and settled in.

And where was Jimin in the middle of all this?

Leaning quietly against the farthest wall next to Jungkook, sipping on punch from a red cup as he watched the commotion in the room, eyes trained on your form as Jongin dragged you to dance and grinded uncomfortably into your hips from behind.

God, he really regrets agreeing to come.

He thought dancing might make him happier, and so when Hoseok asked him to come to the dance floor, he did. But that was quickly dashed when he found himself stuck in the heart of loud teenagers dancing sloppily, clearly having drunk too much of whatever they snuck into their drinks. So, retreating back to the edge and joining an equally bewildered and uncomfortable Jungkook, he was somewhat content to stay there until it was a reasonable time to leave. At least the money he paid will go to a good cause.

“I want to go home.”

He looked over to Jungkook, who looked annoyed at the loud music and screams filling the gym. Jimin nodded in agreement, sipping at his punch before answering Jungkook.

“Same, it’s not really my scene. I’d rather be at home, I still haven’t caught up with the newest episode of Game of Thrones and I’m sick of trying to avoid spoilers,” he laughed.

“It’s just too intense in here, so many people are drunk. I saw the guy from my chemistry class – Taihee – he had a bottle of vodka hidden in that huge jacket of his. He probably isn’t the only one,” he mused, biting the inside of his cheek and looking at the dancefloor with wide eyes.

“That’s what happens, I suppose. When you’re young and want to have a good time,” he replied, eyes finding you once more. You looked so beautiful tonight, as you usually do. All done up, dancing without a care in the world and smiling that gorgeous goofy smile you have that makes Jimin’s heart beat faster than the speed of sound. If only that heart wrenching smile was aimed at him, only for him.

“I think it’s kind of stupid,” Jungkook said, shifting his weight and crossing his arms. Jimin looked over at him anew, a brow raised in question. “I mean, do you have to drink to have a good time? You can have fun in other ways,” he sneered, tutting when someone fell over onto their ass in their drunken stupor.

“That’s some people’s way of having fun, I guess. Some people just prefer to drink,” he countered. He heard Jongin’s loud, annoying laughter in the background even over the music, but elected to ignore it. “In my opinion, I agree, though. There are better ways to have fun. Ways that don’t harm people.”

Jungkook laughed. “Always thinking of people, Jimin,” he beamed, laughing harder as Jimin scowled playfully and turned back to the throng of teenagers dancing. Scanning the crowd for you, his stomach drop when he realised you were no longer in the room after searching three times.

But he did notice Jongin groping some girl instead of you.

Jungkook was saying something to him, most likely about the new Overwatch update, but Jimin excused himself, claiming he had to get air. Really he just wanted to look for you. Because while he thought Jongin was a sleazeball, he didn’t think he’d have the gall to dance with another girl like that in front of you.

Exiting the back doors, Jimin found he did have to look long, seeing you curled up in a ball behind the shed holding the sports equipment. As he walked closer, he realised you were shaking, sobbing uncontrollably into your folded arms, and his heart broke. He never wanted to see you like this, you should never be like this, and never in his life had he wanted to punch Jongin more. He hesitated to approach you, but you heard him, lifting your head up to expose your mascara stained face, furiously wiping at your tears in a vain attempt to get them to stop.

“Are…are you ok?” Jimin asked lamely, and he winced at how stupid he sounded. You sniffed and nodded rapidly.

“Yeah, I am,” your voice was shaky, and you laughed weakly, “it’s just, men are assholes. No offence.”

Jimin chuckled. “None taken,” he answers, moving tentatively closer. When you didn’t object, he sat down beside you, keeping his gaze on his shoes in front of him as he stretches his legs out. It’s quiet for a moment except for the occasional sniffle from you, until he breaks the silence again. “Want to tell me what’s wrong? Might help you.”

You remain quiet, gathering yourself, before blurting: “Jongin cheated on me with Dohee. And he kissed her right in front of my eyes. And he wasn’t even sorry about it.” Finishing your sentence, you broke down into more sobs, and immediately Jimin pushed his nerves away and brought you close to his side, wrapping his arm around you and pushing your hair behind your ear as you hid your face in his chest. He whispered little reassurances in your ear as you cried, endless tears never ceasing.

After a while, when your weeping had died down to muffled whimpers, Jimin spoke up.

“I know it might not mean much, but do you want to know what I think? I think you deserve much better than someone like Jongin. You deserve the whole world, and all the love in it. You’re so incredibly kind, and sweet, and so very beautiful it almost hurts. You’re one of the greatest people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing, and Jongin is crazy for making the mistake of doing this. If he’s too blind to see the incredible girl he had, then he’s better off not having you at all. He missed out on having a queen by his side. It’s his loss. You deserve someone who treats you as if you’re their whole world.”

You went still underneath his arms, and Jimin had a sudden lapse of fear, afraid he overstepped his boundaries. You slowly released yourself from his hold and regarded him with glassy eyes wide in wonder, mouth slightly agape. He gulped under your stare, eyes shifting nervously around as he waited for you to say something, anything.

“Jimin, I…thank you. Thank you so much,” you laughed, smiling a watery smile at him. “Jongin never said anything like that to me before, I never knew how much I needed to hear it before you said it. I…wow.”

“Y-you…you know my name?” he asked in amazement, and you gave a louder laugh, that marvellous smile of yours on your face properly this time and Jimin nearly fainted at the fact he caused it.

“Of course I do, we were partners on that project in biology years ago. I always see you in the halls too,” you informed, pausing in thought. “I always wondered why we never talked after the project, I really liked talking to you.”

What was that sound? Was it angels singing? Was it horns blaring? Was it drums beating? He was pretty sure the drums were actually his heart hammering in his chest at your words, and if he were standing, he was almost certain his knees would have given out and allowed him to drop to the floor. His mind was foggy, a different kind of drunk overcoming his senses than the type teenagers in the gym were experiencing right now, and this feeling must have been responsible for the confidence that flooded his veins in that moment, for he knew his next words were something he’d never say on a regular day.

“Do you want to have lunch next week? With me? You can choose where we go, I just…” he trailed off, lost in your eyes and skimming across your lovely features. Features that turned slightly apprehensive at his suggestion, causing that confidence to leave his body like water rushing from a tap.

“It’s…it might be too soon for anything,” you started, and disappointment filled Jimin’s core, but it was quickly replaced by confusion when you smiled at him. “But, I think we have a lot of catching up to do. So, why don’t we continue this conversation at the burger joint near school?”

Jimin hates clichés. He really does. But the cliché in which the popular girl goes out with the school nerd?

Now that’s a cliché Jimin doesn’t mind.

[blushoseoks]

hello!!! I'm currently binge reading grey area and im at ch 6 and i love it !!! as a hopeless romantic i relate to MC and gosh i love min yoongi and im excited about jimin's appearance (if it comes haha) the slowburn is PERFECT. im not much of an angst fan but wow im so into this and aaaAaa ill send another ask when im done !!! Also thank you so much for putting links of the next ch at the end of the current thats so convenient !! And i hope you do not take this negatively but i notice some ----

continued: — *noticed —- some times when theres an apostrophe for plural (thus making it possessive) for example (this is not an actual quote from grey area but just an example) “after ten minutes, you walked back to your friend’s and they –” (plural friends, not referring to their ownership of anything) not that it bothers me much, just a little something :) +  I JUST FINISHED CH 7. OK SO I THINK THE CLUE IS THE WHOLE HAIR DYE THING WITH NAMJOON. BC HE NEEDED A CHANGE. MAYBE YOONGI DID AS WELL, DYEING HIS HAIR. AND HE DYED HIS HAIR FROM SILVER TO BLUISH BECAUSE DAMN THAT AFFECTED HIM AND HE DIDNT WANT THE SOULMATE THING ? AND NO I TOTALLY DID NOT SEE THAT COMING. I THOUGHT THEY WERE GOING TO FIND JIMIN IN THE DANCE STUDIO (because omg jimin dancing is life) BUT FLODKSKD OK I WAS SCREAMING AND IDC THAT IM IN SCHOOL OR SMTH IM JUST FREAKING OUT ILY+ oK I JUST FINISHED CH 12 AND I AM A BIT CONFUSED ?? DOES YOONGI KNOW JIMIN OR SOMETHING AND SOCJJSKDODKD an iNnocent question, is ch 13 out but not yet linked or just not yet out? AaaaaAaa *quietly dies*

thank you so much for taking the time to send me these asks in between the different chapters you’ve read - i like seeing how different chapters affect the reader! i do not take helpful tips negatively, thank you so much for sharing - in the past ive stated that i have trouble with apostrophes and commas but i am working on it! thank you again for letting me know! :D

the hair-dye something is correct but it’s not necessarily a clue! when yoongi met the mc he was overcome with so many emotions that he changed his hair - he had control over that situation when he hardly does anything else. he’s torn between his emotions and what he thinks he should do, (etc) and so much stress lead to him dyeing his hair. so you got that right!

and due to the confusion over chapter twelve i have made a q&a which i will link here. if your question isn’t answered, please pm me! :D chapter thirteen has yet to be released it is in the works though. 

thank you so much for reading, the feedback, and your lovely messages! 

[prettyjiminpark]

Smoke & Ash (I)

Author: Prettyjiminpark

Genre: Drama

Rating: PG-13 

Wordcount: 2,050

Pairing: Yoongi/Reader

Summary: Your friend has been kidnapped and you’re the only one who seems to care. The police refuse to do anything about it. So you take it upon yourself to save her and start working with a private investigator. You don’t know what to make of him and he doesn’t know what to make of you. Together you try to solve the case while at the same time try to solve each other.

When I walked into his office the back of his chair was facing me. The tall back obscured him, the only sign of his presence was the thin tendril of smoke that wafted up from his cigarette. He made no sound, the light click of my heels bouncing off the walls. 

I stood in front of his desk, waiting for him to notice me. I’d been told to wait, otherwise I’d be turned away without a second thought. I took that time to look around the room. Sparsely decorated, a tall bookshelf in the corner, laden with material, a clock, and a bar cart. 

I swallow, eyeing the spirits in their crystal decanters enviously. I really need a drink. Especially after everything I had been through in the last few hours. I still shudder when I think about it.

“Y/N, could you come here for a second?” The bartender asks me just as I’m about to slip behind the curtain of the stage. “There someone who wants to talk to you.”

I nod, wondering who it could be. Anyone I know if back home. Hundreds of miles away, unable to reach me. Not that I want them to. The farther away they are the better. As I approach the bar I see a tumble of blonde hair cascading down feminine. I know who it is instantly and I grin, a nervousness I wasn’t aware of draining away.

“Tyler!” I say, sidling up next to her, pulling her close to me in an embrace. She immediately returns the hug and when I pull away I see that she’s smiling but it doesn’t reach her eyes. Her hands slide down my arms until mine are in hers. I can feel her pressing something into the palm of hand and I tighten my grip around it while I continue to smile. “What are you doing here? I thought you and Namjoon were going to be leaving for California soon.”

She shakes her head releasing my hands to take a sip of the drink she ordered, gin and tonic. It was her drink of choice, but I knew the trembling in her hand wasn’t because of the alcohol. She was scared, of what I didn’t know but it was big enough to get in the middle of her honeymoon. “We hit a little snag. Namjoon has some business to tie up and once he does then we’ll be gone.”

She said it with such finality that I caught her meaning immediately. Whatever business Namjoon had to deal with, it could mean life or death if he screwed it up. I swallowed, trying to keep my voice light and cheerful. “And where is the lucky guy? I haven’t seen him since the wedding.”

“He’s gone to the restroom. Needed to freshen up I think.” I nod and from the corner of my eye I see the stage director peek out from around the curtain. His eyes scan the room until they fall upon me, he taps his wrist signaling that I have five minutes to be dressed and ready before the show. I nod, letting him know I’ll be there soon before turning back to Tyler. She’s staring into her drink, her finger absentmindedly moving back and forth over the rim of her glass.

“Tyler?” I say softly, placing my hand gently on her shoulder. She jumps slightly from the touch and my heart clenches. “Sweetie, I have to go, do you want me to meet you after?”

“Hmm?” it takes her a minute to process what I’ve said and I know that she’s a million miles away, worrying about whatever trouble Namjoon has gotten them into. “Okay, yeah. I’ll see you after. Joonie is going to want to say hi after all.”

I hug her hard before I leave to get on stage. The set goes by quickly and I thank god for that. I rush back to the bar, not even bothering to change out of the bright glittery costume that I have to wear for shows, but Tyler is already gone. I get a sinking feeling in the pit of my stomach.

“Jin.” I knock on the bar top to get his attention and he looks up from the glass he’s cleaning.

“Yeah?”

“That girl that I was talking to before, did you see where she went?” I don’t know why but there’s a frantic tone to my voice. Jin’s eyes widen fractionally at my tone and he nods pointing to the door.

“A guy came up here not too long ago, her husband I think. The two of them left. I think you can still catch them if you hurry.”

“Thanks Jin,” I don’t even bother to grab a coat before heading through the entrance. The cold air hits me and I immediately start shivering. I ignore it. I need to find Tyler. For a moment I think I’m too late, that I’ve missed them and they’ve gone home. I hope that’s the case. That I’m panicking for no reason, reading further into things than necessary, but I can’t get the way she was acting out of my mind. It’s then that I hear voices, they’re muffled but not too far. The only logical place for them to be is the alleyway that’s adjacent to the club.

My heels click furiously against the concrete as I make my way over. I’m shivering uncontrollably now, and I hug myself, attempting to keep in any warmth I still have. I peer around the edge of the club and I see them, there’s someone with them, a man. He’s cast in shadow and I can’t make out any of his features. I contemplate calling out to them but before I can even move I see a flash and hear a bang. Tyler’s scream fills my ears and I see Namjoon fall to the ground. He collapses so easily, a marionette whose strings have been cut. I can hear my heart pounding in my ears, my breathing haggard and shallow.

The man who was with them grabs Tyler by the arm and starts to drag her away. I watch helpless as she attempts to fight him and go back to her husband. “Namjoon! Let go of me you bastard!” she’s sobbing and my tears of my own slide down my face as I watch. “Let go...please...Nam-Namjoon! Please…”

The man doesn’t care. He jerks her along with him, into a shiny black car that’s waiting at the other end of the alley way. They get in and Tyler’s voice it cut off. I hear a car speed away and  then they’re gone.

I don’t waste any time in rushing over to Namjoon. He’s bleeding and his breathing is shallow but he’s alive and for that I’m grateful. “Namjoon,” I say urgently, taking his face in my hands, patting his cheeks to get his attention. “Stay with me okay? I’m going to get help.”

I’m kneeling in a small puddle of blood, the viscous liquid soaking into the hem of my dress. From what I can see he was shot in the side and the bleeding shows no sign of stopping. I tear my dress, not caring that it’s going to come out of my next paycheck, and press the silvery fabric against the wound.

“Y/N?” A voice calls from the end of the alley way. My head shoots up and I see Jin, concern etched on his face.

“Jin! Please you have to help me. He’s been shot. Call someone please...please.” He nods and I see him go back to the club to make the call.

The next few hours are a flurry of activity and I don’t remember a lot of it, just bits a pieces that stand out in my mind. I’m interviewed by an officer and he takes my statement. When I tell him that I think it may be gang related his nods.

“I’ve seen something similar to this before ma’am. We weren’t able to solve that case, so I don’t think we’re going to make much headway on this either.”

“What? You’re just giving up? My friend has been shot and his wife was kidnapped and you’re not going to do anything about it?”

“Look I know how you feel. If you like you can lodge a complaint and wait for something to happen or you and hire a PI. Either way it’s out of my hands now. You have a good evening though miss.”

At least the officer had the decency to recommend a reputable private investigator, one who had cracked a few important cases. I didn’t waste anytime in coming to Min Yoongi’s office and that’s where I’m standing now, waiting for him to make the first move.

He finally turns around and he’s nothing close to what I was expecting. I thought he was going to be an old man, greyed and wrinkled and grumpy, but he’s nothing like that. He’s young, his features soft, a pair of round glasses sit perched on his nose. I stand still and silent, letting him look me over.

I’m used to it. Being looked at by men, I work in a club. I dance for the entertainment of men and women alike, dressed to the nines in bright flashy costumes. The flashier the better. I have to be center of attention. But now in the presence of one one man, I find myself balking at being stared at and inspected. My coat is open, showing a dress is torn and stained, a ghost of it’s former self. My shoes, silver like by dress are caked with blood and grime. I know my makeup as run, the dark mascara I use, has run down my cheeks, in hard black rivers. I want to hid myself, turn around and never come back but I know I can’t. This is the only way to get Tyler back safe. With Namjoon in the hospital, I’m the only one who can bring her back.

After his inspection is over he speaks. He doesn’t ask me why I’m there, instead he asks me something entirely different. “Would you like a drink?”

“Yes.” My voice is hoarse, both from crying and from disuse. I clear my throat once, embarrassed yet again. “Yes, please. Scotch if you have it.”

He chuckles, a sound that I find I like quite a bit. “Lucky for you I do.”

He makes the drink quickly, and hands it off to me. I don’t hesitate and take a healthy swig. It burns going down but I welcome it. It’s a sign that everything that’s been happening is real, not just a terrible nightmare.

“So,” he says, sitting down at his desk once more. “What brings you here, miss…?”

“Uh...Y/N.” The drink has given me a warm feeling and I take another gulp before speaking again. “I need help finding my friend. She’s been kidnapped.”

“Tell me what happened.” He sits back steepling his fingers, gazing at me from over top of them. I recount my story, I cry again and wipe my eyes. When I look down at my hand I see it blackened with makeup. I sniff and avoid looking him in the eye.

“I aplogise for being so emotional.”

“No need.” During my story he jotted down some notes but did nothing else. “You’ve been through a trying time. It’s natural to be upset.”

“So will you help me?” I face him, knowing I sound desperate, but not caring anymore.

He’s silent for so long I’m sure he’s going to reject me. “Yes, I’ll help you.” He takes a card and jots down a number before handing it off to me. “Take this. It’s my office number. Go home get some rest and call me in the morning. We can go from there.”

“Thank you.” There’s a tremble in my voice as I clutch the card. “I don’t know how I can thank you.”

“You can thank me when we find your friend. Now go, we’ve got a big day ahead of us tomorrow.”

I don’t need to be told twice. I set the glass of whiskey down as I turn to leave clutching the card he gave me as if it’s the most precious thing in the world. And it is.

[kthyunngg]

Ephemeral [1]

↳ (adj.) - lasting a very short time; short lived 

Member: Namjoon 

Genre: Angst, some sort au that is tbd, romance(?) 

Words: 1.5k 

Summary: There is a man in your dreams. You don’t know what he looks like or what his name is - you only know the sound of his voice. His voice. His voice follows you where ever you go. These dreams are your only source to see him, yet these dreams feel so real. 

A/N: Hi everyone! Here is my new series, Ephemeral. I know I’ve kinda left things on a bad note with Fernweh as I took it down, but hopefully you will enjoy this series. I feel much better now and I have a good feeling about this story. I hope you guys enjoy Xx 

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“Don’t be afraid Y/N—“

The air from your lungs escape you as you wake up in a pool of cold sweat. It happened again. That voice. That scene. Months have passed by, but this dream, nightmare, whatever it’s called, it keeps coming back.

The image comes flooding back into your mind. By now it’s almost impossible to forget, this mirage that’s engraved into your memory.

You’re standing alone in what seems like a parking lot. Smoke or fog, you can’t tell which one, blocks your line of vision, but you’re able to make out a figure that’s standing in front of you - his back towards you.

He’s tall, has a sturdy frame. He takes long strides and you’re barely able to keep up.

Not once does he face you, but you feel safe. Something about his presence makes you feel comfortable, at peace, free.

But then he stops walking, you do the same.

The smoke is thicker now, you’re barely able to make out his dark hair. He’s unmoving, yet he seems to be getting farther and father.

“Don’t be afraid Y/N —” The sound your name coming from his mouth feels so familiar, like you’ve heard it millions of times.

You try to say something, but your lips becoming numb. No sounds come out. You know that he has turned around to face you now, but you can’t see his face because of the white smoke. You want to move towards him, but your legs are unresponsive.

“Don’t be afraid Y/N.” His deep voice rings in your ears, but at the same time, his figure becomes smaller.

You reach your hand out and his name is at the tip of you tongue, but what is it?

The sky is no longer a shade of pale blue. Instead, a dangerous grey looms across the sky. Ravens pierce the sky with their caws. The smoke gets thicker, almost making it impossible to breath. There’s a burning sensation in your throat, you’re screaming, but there’s no one there to hear your cries.

He’s gone.

This dream has been haunting your life for the past few months, six at the most. You don’t know what caused it or when exactly they started. It’s always the same. You have this dream, wake up in cold sweat, and then curse yourself for not being able to see who the man is.

The dreams are always so vivid, so real, almost as if you’re sucked into another world for a brief moment. But once you wake up, you know it’s all over. The dreams aren’t real, your life is. You have a job in the heart of Seoul and you live with your best friends, Aeri. There’s no such thing as a man walking a smoke, no skies are turning grey. Hell, Aeri even made it so clear that you’d be the last once on this whole entire planet to find a boyfriend.

“Come on Y/N! We have to go now or else we’re going to be late!” Aeri shouts from the living room as you rush to get dressed.

“Okay, okay! I’m coming, keep your panties on!” With some final touches to the hair, you deem yourself presentable to the world.

For some strange reason, you always wear this rope bracelet on your left hand, and a silver ring on your right pinky. You don’t remember when you started doing this, but it just seemed right.

“Oh my god, you’re finally ready. I thought you were never going to come out of that room of yours.” Aeri sighs dramatically and you laugh as she never fails to impress you with her acting skills.

“Aw, I’m glad you worried about me. Now lets go okay before you really start to complain.” This time, you’re the one to rush the two of you out of the apartment.

Today is the day that Aeri has been waiting for. Her favourite fashion designer is putting on a show in a small exhibition place so only a few lucky people could get tickets in. She spent hours in front of the laptop, waiting until the very second the clock changed just so she could click that button to purchase tickets. Being the great friend that she is, she also got you tickets; not because it was cheaper to buy two than just a single one.

The two of you catch the bus and you’re on your way to see the fashion show. In the midst of your conversation with Aeri, you catch yourself drifting off into your own little world. The ambience of the bus blurs together with the scenery and your eyelids grow heavy. Everything is so peaceful.

“Y/N, don’t worry.”

You’re brought back to your senses. It’s him. It’s his voice, but you aren’t sleeping or dreaming so why do you hear it.

Don’t worry.

Don’t worry about what?

“Are you okay?” Aeri places her hand on your shoulder. She must have noticed you squirming around in your seat.

“What? Oh yeah, I’m find. Just a little tired, didn’t sleep too well last night.”

“You should rest a little before we get there. I think there’s still half an hour until it’s our stop anyways.”

“Okay, thanks Aeri.” She nods and faces back towards her phone as she lets you rest.

You lean your head against the cold window and watch as your breath appears. You bring your finger up against the glass and start drawing carelessly.

This is the first time that you’ve heard his voice outside of your dreams. Were you hallucinating? Are you really not getting enough sleep and now you’re going delusional?

Your finger flies thoughtlessly across the window, leaving marks wherever possible. In your peripheral vision, you see the buildings passing by, streaks of colour painting an image behind the cold glass window.

Finally you run out of drawing space so you lift you head to evaluate the work that you’ve done. For the most part, they’re just nonsense lines. Some curved, some straight. They don’t make anything even if you tried your best to imagine, but then your eyes land on something.

In the middle of all the overlapping lines, you’re able to make out one image, a word to be exact.

Nam

Unlike the other lines that you’ve drawn on the window, this word is written out very neatly and precisely. No one would miss it even if they tried. Yet, you don’t remember writing this word on the window.

Why did you write it?

Nam.

You rack the depths of your brain, searching for an answer, but nothing comes up. There’s no one that you know of who has this syllable in their name and you can’t think of any significant that would cause you to write this out of nowhere.

Three letters, one syllable, yet something feels…different.

“Next stop, Myeongdong.” The automatic voice brings you back out of your trance.

You and Aeri prepare to get up as the bus comes to a stop.

The whoosh of air welcomes the two of you as you step onto the buzzing streets of Myeongdong. Although the weather is a little colder, there are still many people out and about shopping until their arms fall off.

“It’s only a short walk until we get there. Aren’t you so excited Y/N?”

Maybe it’s the lights from all the shops, but Aeri’s eyes shine brighter than ever before. She takes your hand and flies through the busy streets towards the venue. People passing by give you strange looks, but you’ve learned through your friendship that normal doesn’t exist with Aeri.

The cold air rushes through your hair, exposing your neck to the nips of winter. You steps start to slow down and you realize that the two of you have already arrived to the venue.

“Oh thank god we’re not late.” Aeri huffs out small breaths of air as you wait in line. Everyone in line is dressed up from head to toe and you thank the lords that Aeri did not hold back on finding outfits for the two of you.

As you approach the staff members who are standing at the door to collect tickets, something catches your ear. You quickly register that it’s one of those tunes from music boxes.

The music is sweet. The sounds are short, but there’s a rush of nostalgia that runs through you. A shiver creeps along your spine and suddenly the cold winter air feels warm.

“Miss, are you okay?” One of the staff managers handling the tickets as you as you give her yours.

“What, yes of course I’m okay.” You eyebrows fold together as you’re taken back by her question.

“Oh, okay. You seem to tears falling down your face. It must be the wind.” She brushes it off cooly and lets you and Aeri into the venue.

The two of you thank the staff member and walk into the building. Aeri walks first as she admires the platform and the lights, but you take this moment to feel your face. Just as the lady said, there are tears on your face.

But you weren’t crying? Nor were you sad.

There’s no denying the dampness of your face due to the tears, but why are they there in the first place?

Strange.

You excuse yourself to clean your face up in the bathroom. Luckily your makeup isn’t as ruined and only requires a few touch-ups.

First the writing on the bus window and now these spontaneous tears.

What is happening?