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namjoonswaifu · 2 years

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Chapter Five- Royal Residences Part 2

warnings: mentions of weight, AFAB character, mentions of female body parts, references to the weight of M/C, loosely based on my own research of the ancient Korean royalty system, bullying, loneliness, anxiety, money problems, mentions of how other people view characters body

message me if you feel I need more warnings

3,098 Words

There will be small blurbs following this for the next few days, letting you know what the gifts they receive from each of the boys, each boy getting their own blurb.

"Your father?"

“Indeed, my Queen” you started, taking a slow breath, trying to work up the courage to discuss your father with the intrigued woman in front of you. “My father used to be a good man. A kind man even. But then we lost a lot of money in one go, and he turned to drink. He would waste away the money we did have every night, and when he would come home…” you felt your eyes begin to water, but you couldn’t allow yourself to cry in front of the Queen Dowager. “The night before I left to begin this process, my father attacked me for the first time” you tried carrying on. The look on the woman’s face turned from intrigue to horror within seconds, flashes of anger passing through her eyes, which she tried to hide away from you with quick blinks.

“He attacked you?” The Dowager responded, trying to keep her voice stable, not wanting to make you more upset than you already clearly were.

“I had come home with the application and had told him that all eligible ladies had to apply. He did not want me to. He knew the money he used on drinking would have to go towards the preparations, and he wasn’t happy with that. I feel I may have aggravated him slightly however, he had told me that I wasn’t permitted to apply for this process, and I told him that he had no say in it, that the king himself requested it, and the repercussions that we would face if we didn't. And he quickly fell silent in anger. My mother on the other hand quickly began preparations, trying to raise my confidence in myself. We were meant to have dinner that night with a family we were friends with, my best friend, she's even here, as part of the process." you began your story

"She's here?" the Queen Dowager probed

"Hwang Yeji, my Queen" you responded. The Queen Dowager nodded in recognition. Her silence queuing you to speak once again

"so my mother had sent me to my room to begin sorting out my hair and readjusting my clothes for dinner. And that is what I had started doing when I heard a knock on the door. I stupidly assumed it was just my mother, as she's the only one usually to knock on my door. My father usually only spoke to me in distaste, blaming me for his drinking, that it was all my fault, and that he was using this money for my future. I still don't know what he meant by that" you carried on, letting out a dry laugh. The Queen Dowager showed a tight smile.

"It was never your fault. I hope you know that" she told you.

"You sound like my eomma," you told the older woman, looking at her and giving her a small smile, the dowager responding with a similar smile. A small silence passed again, letting you carry on your story.

"Anyways, he had stormed in, his voice was this weird level where it wasn't yelling but it wasn't speaking at a normal decibel. I remember every word he told me that night. Every. Single. One." the tears welling in your eyes again. "how dare you tell me that I have no choice in this matter, I am the parent, not you, DO NOT treat me as a child"

Remember to take a breath a voice inside you reminded you. So you took a deep breath, continuing your story "He grabbed what was left of the braids that were still in, and yanked on them slightly, and then he yanked it even further and threw me to the floor by my hair" your voice wavered as you began to cry. but you carried on "He began yelling "I am the man of this house" he had yelled in my face" you wipe a tear that had made its way to your chin "and then he continued "I make the rules, not a fat little girl who won't even make it past the first stage" and then his voice returned to normal before he grabbed my hair and told me the thing that hurt the most" more tears fell down your face, you couldn't even look at the Dowager. "He grabbed my hair for the final time and got so close to my face I could smell the beer that he had drunk earlier in the day and said "I wish you were never born, you should have died, not your sister. You're a disgrace" and then he shoved my head into the ground again"

"But, no matter what he has done, he is still my father. I still love him, despite his aggression towards me. At the end of the day, I have always wanted him to tell me that he was proud of me, though I know that will never happen. I just hope that by getting this far, by doing this much, maybe just maybe, he will be proud of me, even if he doesn't say so" you finished. You heard the Dowager taking a deep breath and sniffing slightly, trying to subtly wipe away the tears that had fallen during your story. She turned towards you more and took your hands in her own. A knowing smile on her lips. "I went through a similar thing to yourself before I became the Queen," she told you "my father was a heavy drinker, and although we didn't lose our money, he just didn't treat me the way he treated my siblings. He would always tell me when others couldn't hear that I was a disappointment and that anything that went wrong for our family was my fault" her story began. You could almost picture the woman in front of you, younger and looking the same way you had just weeks before.

"He never physically abused me, the dressers I had would have seen it and reported it to my mother, who would have been beyond furious with my father. My mother never knew about what he told me on a daily basis either. At least that's what I tell myself, it's the only way I can heal" her story carried on, "But when Namjoon could speak, he would always run up to me and call me the 'Bestest eomma in the world' and it was always he kind words that made me so happy and allowed me to slowly heal. Healing is a slow process that only you and time can heal. You are worth more than what your father told you and I hold hope for you and what you can do in the future. I almost see me in you" her words spilt out of her mouth, her hands still holding yours tightly in her own. “Would you like to join a luncheon between my ladies and me tomorrow afternoon?” the Queen Dowager suddenly blurted out.

“Me?” You responded quickly, shock evident on your face at the Dowager’s question. “Are you questioning me?” the Dowager retorted “Of course not!” You quickly responded “I just cannot believe that you want me to attend an event as prestigious as a luncheon between the Dowager and her ladies. It is an event well spoken of throughout the kingdom” you explained.

“My dear I was only jesting. I can understand your shock” she laughed “Meet my guards, any one of the four, and don’t worry, I’ll have someone write their names down for you, in front of my apartment tomorrow, they will bring you to the luncheon. Wear something purple, chin-aehaneun, I truly believe that it is to be your colour” she said. “Now, let us finish our tea before dinner is to be served” she grinned, the happy twinkle back in her eyes. She guides your hands back to your teacup and lets go of them once they reached where she wanted. You smiled back, lifting your teacup to your lips, letting the sweet liquid ease down your throat. This had to be the best tea that you had ever had the pleasure of drinking. You look around you, finally taking in the beauty that surrounded you, allowing a content sigh to leave your lips.

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Anxiety ran through you again the next day when you were ready and leaving your apartment to find the Queen Dowager’s guard. Once again, it took only a few minutes to arrive at the Dowager’s apartment. This time, you walked past her personal garden and to the front of her apartment. And when you did, you saw two people, one man and one woman, both beautiful.

Before you could reach the beautiful people ahead of you, you heard a voice that immediately changed your mood.

“Don’t you think it’s a bit desperate to be hanging around the Dowager’s apartment?” Kwon Eun-Bi snarled.

“As if she would want to even be in your presence” Kim Seol-Hyun continued.

What none of you realised, however, was that the two guards you had previously been approaching, had been listening in to the conversation. And that they would definitely be relaying this to their boss, the Dowager.

“As fun as this conversation is, I’m afraid I have someplace to be. If you’ll excuse me” You respond, keeping your voice calm and composed despite the anxiety heightening inside your mind and body.

“Oh please, be our guest” they responded sarcastically. Pretending to be letting you go from their conversation. You begin to move away from them, truly thinking that they were letting you go. But before you could even take two steps forward, one of the ‘lovely’ ladies had stuck their foot out, tripping you over. Seeing you on the floor, they giggled and walked off.

Seeing that the two ladies had finally walked off, the two other people there, ran towards you on the ground.

“Lady Seo! Are you okay?” A female voice said, making you look up from your place on the floor. Entranced by her beauty, you forget to respond. The woman in front of you becoming more worried about your lack of response. “Lady Seo?” She asked again shaking you out of your trance, reminding you to nod your head. Both of the people standing, let out a huff of laughter at your response to them. The woman, whose name you didn’t know, offered you her hand, and you took it, letting it help you to stand.

“Thank you, Lady…” you spoke, hoping that she would tell you who she was, that she would take your hint. She smiled, bowing deeply to you before speaking “I am no lady, Lady Seo, my name is Kim Hyun-ah, and this is my husband Kim Hyo-Jong, but everyone calls him Dawn.” hearing his name, Dawn bows deeply with a smile on his face.

Dawn finally speaks “We're here to bring you to the Queen Dowager’s luncheon. Would you be okay with me using this handkerchief to dust you off Lady Seo?” the man asks, waiting for your consent before doing anything. You nod slightly, a blush covering your face. The man pulls a handkerchief from his pocket and uses it to wipe off the sand and dust that had covered your chima due to your ‘fall’. It took a few moments before he had wiped it all from your clothing. Well, he had wiped most of it, not daring to go near your chest area. He passes the handkerchief to you “There is some on your chest my lady” he says. “Thank you,” you say, taking it from his hands with both of yours, trying to show your respect, not knowing their age. Using it, you wiped off the last of it, that had been laying on your chest.

“Beautiful Lady Seo” Kim Hyun-ah speaks, a large smile covering her angelic-looking face. “Let us go,” she said, taking Dawn's hand, before briefly turning to you “And please call me Hyuna” turning back, she begins walking towards a building you had not yet been into.

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The luncheon, once you had arrived, had gone very well. You had even been invited to another one the day after. This process happens for the next four days, each time, you enjoy yourself more and more, allowing yourself to open up about the subjects that mattered the most to you, to the ladies who found themselves resonating with you. On the fifth day, the Queen Dowager decided to skip the luncheon that day, and as much as you enjoyed the luncheons, you desperately wanted to revisit the cherry blossom garden that you had entered on your first day in the palace.

So this is how you spent your day, happily pondering around the cherry blossom garden. You wore a pale pink jeogori, with a slightly darker goreum. Your chima was the same colour as your goreum, and you had a cherry blossom tree embroidered onto the back of the jeogori, your beoseon’s were white, as were your gomusin’s, though they did have the delicate detail of cherry blossoms engraved across the fabric. You even had a pale pink parasol with painted cherry blossom petals painted across it. This outfit made you feel confident and happy and you couldn’t wait to spend the day in it, walking around the most beautiful place you had ever seen.

What you didn’t know, was that one of the kings closest men was sitting on a palladiom, painting the scenery before him, before he noticed you wandering around. And before the man had known it, he had painted you, so engrossed in you and your beauty that he didn’t notice that one of his boyfriends had wandered up behind him.

“I hope you’ve gotten her consent to paint her nae sarang, it’s a bit creepy otherwise” the older man joked.

“Taehyung! OMO! You made me jump!” the young man said, grateful that his paintbrush hadn’t been on the paper when he had jumped.

“Sorry Kookie. Your painting is exquisite. You have captured a beauty, I know the other boys will appreciate the… scenery” Taehyung snickered making Jungkook blush. “Anyways, aegi, I have things to do” he grins, his smile boxy. “Maybe you can paint me in with ‘things’” he says before winking and walking off before the younger man could realise what he was on about.

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Whilst staring across the small lake infront of you, you registered steps heading towards you. Not wanting to be a bother to anyone and risk being kicked out of the beautiful area, you put your head down, staring at the water just ahead of you.

“You must be one of the King’s candidates. I haven’t seen you yet. What’s your name?” the unknown man said, making you finally look up. ‘What was it with everyone in this palace being so ATTRACTIVE’ you thought to yourself. The man infront of you had deep brown hair, swept across his forehead, allowing you to see his milk chocolate brown eyes that sparkled in the sun. His jaw was as sharp as the swords that the guards around the kingdom carried. And finally, you noticed his large boxy smile, waiting happily for you to respond.

“Indeed I am sir, Lady Seo, pleasure to meet you” you spoke, your voice surprisingly clear, and after your brief introduction, you bow deeply to the man.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady, how is most comfortable for me to address you?” he asks, shocking you into silence once again. The first silence was due to his attractiveness, the second due to his words.

“Y/N, if that pleases you my Lord” you respond, a gentle smile on your lips.

“And how old are you… y/n” his questions continue.

“24 sir”

“Ah. So that makes you my…” his sentence begins, a smirk working its way onto his face “noona”

His words make you cough out a breath, blush taking over every part of your face that it could.

“If that is what my lord would prefer to call me, i can only oblige to his request” you almost stutter out, making the man throw his head back in laughter.

“Would you like to go for a walk noona?” he asks, making the blush that had been receding, return.

“I can’t think of a better way to spend an afternoon my Lord” you respond, your words almost sounding like flirtation.

“Please, call me Tae” he responds, offering up his arm to the shorter woman.

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The two thoroughly enjoyed their walk, bonding over various topics, jokes flowing between them, laughter filling the air. They had quickly become friends.

Before either of them knew it, nightfall had arrived and it was time for dinner in the hall once again.

“May I accompany you to the dining hall noona?” Tae asks, turning slightly to you, waiting for your answer.

“The dining hall? Of course you can. I have been looking forward to dinner for the last few hours.” you laughed, your tummy rumbling as a response to your words, making Tae laugh.

“Then let’s go!” he speaks, before running with your arm still in his towards the dining hall.

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After every luncheon that you attended over the next three days, Taehyung met you after, taking you on tours of the palace, showing you places you couldn’t wait to see more of in detail. Your days quickly becoming filled with laughter and happiness, making you never want to go back to your home again.

The Queen Dowager had noticed your quick friendship between the two of you, and had smiled, knowing that if you were chosen, you would fit right in.

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Today was the day when the ladies would begin receiving gifts. The ladies were gathered in the small courtyard that they had been in during the first stage. Large screens between each set of cushions. On the small stage, sat two seats, one more elegant than the other.

Standing in front of your cushions, you waited for whoever was to occupy the seats to sit in them. And while you were stuck in your thoughts, a man who you had not seen since the first stage entered, sitting in the less elegant seat on the right hand side of the stage. You bow deeply to him, before standing upright again. Seconds later the Queen Dowager was announced, and she also entered the stage, sitting on the more regal looking chair. Again you bow deeply, waiting for the confirmation that you could rest on the cushions behind you. She nods, and you let out a smile, plopping down onto the cushions.

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iladkaren · 2 years

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SOMEDAY: Chapter III

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader

Summary:

“If you think that marrying the sole heir of the Kim enterprise will get you anywhere, think again.”

Chapter I

Chapter II

“There’s a family dinner party this weekend that we need to attend.” Namjoon announced as he walked into the kitchen, freshly showered and dressed in his casual slacks. He was wearing a blue shirt tucked neatly into them with no tie and a black blazer over it all. His hair was still wet from its shower. He looked like a modern man. “It’s an annual thing in the clan. Think of it as a reunion.” He added.

He sat down on one of the barstools at the island, placing his arms on the granite surface in front of him and leaning forward, resting his chin on his hands.

“Oh.” I replied, trying to conceal how shocked I was by this news. “Where is it held?” I asked curiously after a moment.

“At the Kim Estate.” He answered. “The dinner starts around 8 and lasts until 12 midnight.”

I took another bite of my cereal as I thought about it. That didn't sound too bad at all. If I could get through it without any incidents then maybe I would have fun. If I could get through the night of acting like we’re totally in love with each other then there was no problem at all.

“I know it’s a lot. This is your first time attending a dinner with the whole family, right?” He said as if reading my mind. Of course he could. Namjoon could always read minds.

“Well, if you don’t count the reception dinner at our wedding, then yes, this will be my first dinner with the whole family.” I responded, smiling softly.

Namjoon chuckled. “Yeah, but we both agreed to pretend to have feelings for each other so I think you have nothing to worry about.”

I nodded slowly, feeling a bit relieved. It’ll go fine. At least that's what I told myself. But, deep inside I had to admit, I wasn’t exactly sure how it would turn out. I mean, who knows how long these dinners last? They could last all night. And then there’d still be more events tomorrow and the next day and the next day and every day after that…

Arranged marriage really wasn’t my idea of fun.

As soon as I stepped foot in the Kim estate, I realized just how big it truly was. The mansion was almost a quarter the size of ours. It was massive. A full three story house surrounded by manicured gardens and a large circular driveway. There were two tall columns leading up to a grand double door and a small fountain standing proudly in the middle of the driveway. The gate surrounding the main lawn was open, revealing the long gravel drive stretching all the way to the doors.

“Wow…” I whispered under my breath as I watched a few servants walking around.

“Welcome home!” Jin greeted with a huge smile as soon as he spotted us.

“Hey, Jinnie.” Namjoon greeted back, patting Jin on the shoulder as we passed.

Kim Seokjin. Namjoon’s first cousin and also one of the oldest cousins in the family.

Seokjin finally looked at me. He smiled politely before gesturing for us to follow him inside the house. He opened the heavy double doors, allowing us entry.

The ballroom was enormous and the light poured in through the large glass windows that covered the walls all the way up to the ceiling, illuminating everything in it with gold.

Everyone looked so pretty. Even with the bright lights shining directly overhead.

The entire floor was a large white marble tile and the whole area was covered with elegant Persian carpets. Large vases filled with red roses and white orchids stood along the wall next to a set of glass doors leading outside to the garden.

I look at Namjoon, wondering what the hell we were doing here again. Why did it sound like he didn’t want to come? It sounded like such a hassle when he said it. But now, watching how nice the place was, looking around at all the beautiful things, made me wonder if there wasn't some kind of ulterior motive.

“You ready?” Namjoon suddenly asked as he took hold of my hand.

“What? No… I mean, yeah. Sure. Let’s go.” I mumbled as I turned away from the view outside the window, focusing on Namjoon instead.

Namjoon laughed quietly at my reply and squeezed my hand lightly before letting go.

It felt like everyone was staring. Like they were expecting something different from us. Something they couldn't quite put their finger on. Maybe it was because I wasn’t part of the clan or we were a little late. Either way, everyone seemed to be watching us, waiting for some sort of reaction. I wanted to pull my hand out of Namjoon’s grip, to hide behind him, but I didn't dare let go.

Instead, I decided to walk beside him, keeping my head low and avoiding eye contact with anyone. The only one that mattered right now was us.

“Namjoon! My son! You’re finally here!” Namjoon’s father said enthusiastically as he came towards us.

He was wearing a grey business suit with a navy blue tie and had silver glasses perched perfectly on his nose. The sight made him seem slightly intimidating but I tried to ignore those thoughts as I bowed low and shook his hand.

“And, (y/n), good to see my daughter-in-law!” His father greeted, shaking my hand before turning to his wife, “My dear! They are here.” He commented cheerily.

His wife, whose name I already forgot, smiled warmly at me and then gave her husband a pointed stare, telling him to be quiet. After a short chuckle, she turned her attention back to me. “How are you, dear? How are you settling in at the new manor?” She cooed.

“Oh well, I’m managing just fine. Everything is perfect.” I replied politely, glancing sideways at Namjoon who had yet to break character completely.

He gave me a subtle nod of approval at my answer. It seemed to appease his mother. I guess I was getting better at this pretending thing.

“That’s wonderful to hear. We must go greet the rest of our guests. We wouldn’t want to make any of them wait.” With that being said she turned on her heel and walked gracefully through the room.

“Well, you have a good rest of the night. Buffet is open till midnight. I must go, and greet the others.” Mr. Kim said as he walked past us.

“Okay, you too, father.” Namjoon replied, smiling at him, which he returned. Then, with another nod of his head and a wave of his hand he headed off towards the other side of the ballroom where a large group of people stood talking and laughing together.

Namjoon faced me once again.

“You okay?” He asked me with concern written all over his face.

I smiled and nodded.

“You sure? You don't seem to be too happy to be here.” He continued, putting his arm around my waist.

“Yes, it's just a lot to take in.” I lied quickly.

“I know.” Namjoon replied. “But you'll get used to it. Trust me.”

“Maybe you're right.” I said, smiling shyly at him. “Let's go eat dinner.”

“Sure. And please, do not get drunk again.” Namjoon added while rolling his eyes.

“I’ll be fine.” I said, frowning and shaking my head at him. “I'm an adult. I can handle it.”

“Sure you can, sweetheart.” Namjoon said before leading me into the large dining room beyond the open doorway we just went through.

The buffet was amazing. There was salmon, steak, chicken, vegetables, bread rolls and even a salad. I could hardly believe that there wasn’t going to be anything left at the end of the night. And then I looked around and saw how much food there was.

All the women dressed very nicely, looking stunning and beautiful, and the men, as well. The men all sported formal suits whereas the women looked casual enough for an evening party. The women all wore dresses and makeup, but none of it seemed to affect their beauty at all. Their makeup, hair, clothes and accessories were all immaculate. The women all spoke and laughed happily among themselves, looking as though they knew everyone there. Some even had children present or pets with them.

We finally got the food we want in the buffet and began eating. It looked delicious and I ate everything until I couldn’t feel my hands anymore. By the time everything else was finished I was stuffed like a goose. I hadn’t eaten so much in years. I sat back, panting as I stared at my plate full of food.

Namjoon chuckled softly at me before pulling my plate aside and helping himself to some of it as well. We stayed at the table like that for a little bit longer, trying to convince ourselves that it was still safe and that everything was fine. That I could manage to associate with them without any problems or worries. At least for a short while.

“Namjoon!” We heard someone say.

Namjoon and I both looked over in the direction of the voice. I recognized that voice. I immediately knew that it belonged to none other than Kim Taehyung. He was waving at us from across the room with a grin spread across his handsome face as usual.

“Hey, Taehyung!” Namjoon waved back.

Taehyung ran towards us as soon as we acknowledged him, almost tripping a couple times in his haste.

“So you two managed to actually show up.” Taehyung said between gasps for air as he finally stopped in front of us.

“Of course we did. What do you take us for?” Namjoon responded sarcastically, causing Taehyung to laugh heartily.

Taehyung was dressed in a simple black tuxedo. It fit him perfectly, accentuating the lean muscle underneath. His golden hair was slicked back and he looked like he had never been happier.

Taehyung’s gaze slid over to me. ”(y/n)! You’re here!” He exclaimed, walking up closer to us and giving me a big bear hug.

“Yeah, you too, Taehyung. Sorry we’re late.” I apologized, hugging him back, although a bit awkwardly since I wasn't used to having people close to me for so long.

Kim Taehyung. Another first cousin of Namjoon’s. One of the most eligible bachelors in the country.

Kim Taehyung, the man whom everyone wanted to marry.

“Don’t worry about it.” Taehyung replied, releasing me. “Oh, by the way, Namjoon, do you have a minute? I’d like to talk to you in private.” Taehyung asked seriously, a serious expression overtaking his features.

Namjoon glanced briefly at me before nodding his agreement and standing up. “Alright.” Namjoon replied, placing his hand on my shoulder gently. “I’ll be right back.” He told me quietly, squeezing my shoulder gently before leaving.

Taehyung looked at me expectantly. “Don’t worry, it’s just business talk. It’s boring.” He reassured me when he noticed my confused look.

“Okay, I’ll just be here.” I said after a small pause.

I took a seat at the table, waiting patiently for them to come back. I felt hungry again and decided to pick up some more food by the buffet. I wondered if I could eat as much of it as I could.

After taking a bite out of the dessert, my thoughts were interrupted by someone clearing their throat next to me. I didn’t recognize her, but she probably was one of Namjoon’s cousins that he talked about sometimes. As if on cue she cleared her throat again, drawing my attention away from the buffet.

“Could you get me another glass of champagne?” She inquired. “Can you bring me two glasses?”

What? Did I really look like a waiter?

“Oh, sorry. I thought you were one of the waitresses.” She laughed in that fake sweet voice of hers.

Well, now I remember her… Bae Joo-hyun. Her hair fell to her shoulders in smooth waves and I thought I was going to melt because of how perfect she looked.

Except, now I realized how ugly she is inside.

She looked like she didn’t give a damn about anything. She was wearing red lipstick and heavy mascara. In fact, she didn't really look all that different than how Namjoon had described her.

“Excuse me?” I replied, raising one eyebrow.

“Oh, please,” She rolled her eyes. “If you think that marrying the sole heir of the Kim enterprise will get you anywhere, think again.” She finished.

I blinked slowly, confused by what she was saying to me. I honestly wasn't sure what to make of it and it was starting to piss me off. I didn't understand why she was acting like this. Was I missing something here?

Does she think I married Namjoon willingly? Does she not know this was an arranged marriage?

“It’s an arranged marriage.” I corrected her quickly. “You know that, right?” I continued. “And it isn’t my idea. So I don’t know what it is you think will happen here… But whatever it is, stop being rude about it.” I informed her. I was getting annoyed with her attitude.

“You think I’m stupid? Of course I know it’s an arranged marriage. Whatever, you’re still an outsider.” Joo-hyun commented, looking unimpressed. “There's nothing that you can do about it anyway.” She added.

“We don’t remember asking for your opinion, Joo-hyun.” Namjoon suddenly spoke up from beside me. Joo-hyun was startled for a moment by his sudden appearance but recovered quickly.

“Namjoon,” She said coolly.

“Let it go.” Namjoon said. “There is no point in bringing this into the house.” He finished firmly.

Joo-hyun glared at Namjoon angrily and turned to look at me before turning back to him.

“I’m wasting my time with you both.” Joo-hyun said before storming off. Namjoon stood silently, watching her leave.

The moment she left, he turned towards me again. He sighed heavily. “I’m sorry about that, (y/n). She can be a bit overwhelming sometimes. She doesn’t mean any harm by it. It’s just how she is.” He explained.

I nodded slightly, smiling weakly. “No worries.” I murmured, feeling kind of bad that Namjoon had to deal with her like this.

Namjoon smiled slightly before looking down at the plate on the table. He picked up the spoon and ate a few more bites of the cake. “Let’s go for a drive.” He said after finishing eating.

I stared at him in confusion. “Where?” I questioned.

“Anywhere but here. Let’s go somewhere else for a change. Somewhere peaceful where we won’t run into Joo-hyun and the others.” Namjoon suggested.

That sounded nice. “All right. Where should we go?” I asked, getting up and standing next to him.

“Somewhere far away from the mansion. Hmm,” Namjoon pondered, staring at the floor. Then, a smile appeared on his face, “how about the bay?”

I gasped, surprised by his choice of location. The place where we ate ice cream while sharing our dreams to each other. It sounded perfect.

“Great idea. Do you mind driving?” I offered, trying to hide my excitement.

“No.” Namjoon stated simply and I gave a soft smile. We left the mansion and walked out of the mansion gates until we reached the parking lot. We climbed into his car, which thankfully still smelled fresh after its last washing. The smell made me want to sleep and maybe dream about those moments again.

Chapter I

Chapter II

#bts #kim seokjin #kim namjoon #kim taehyung #bae joohyun #reader #namjoon x reader #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x you #arranged marriage au

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lifeflowingon · 2 years

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| ROYAL |

SUMMARY: A day in the life... but make it royal.

PAIRING: Namjoon x female reader

GENRE: Established relationship, arranged marriage.

WARNINGS: Smut.

A/N: Namjoon drabble #5

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"What are you doing?"

"Baking some goods for the princess"

"You just got back. Why are you busy already?" he asked, looking at her softly, while she moved around the kitchen palace.

"Honey, it took me a lot to convince my father to let me stay at court. And I've missed so much. I missed the engagement..."

"But, they were engaged for like a year. How could you-?"

"I missed the wedding" she continued, pointedly "I just want to be here Joon" she added, turning on herself and hugging his waist "I also miss you when I'm away".

"Your father is the ambassador and you have to go with him. I understand that".

"Not anymore" she exclaimed cheerfully "I convinced him and I'm staying"

"What? Really?!"

"Where do you want to place the tarts milady?"

"On the basket, please darling, thank you" she answered to her maid "I want to gift all of that to the future queen. I'm so excited" she added, while carefully helping the maid place the freshly made desserts "I don't know her but I already like her".

"Dear..."

"Shush Joon, she is from another country and not only that makes us more powerful but she is so lovely! I also wish you could have gone with me when I went there with my father. The country is so so beautiful!"

"You know I have to stay here, since I'm the royal advisor".

"Nonsense" she moved her hand around, to point it out how absurd it was "There is no war and not immediate trouble. You could have gone with us.

But enough about it, I just wanna meet her."

"And you will, eventually" She smirked at his comment.

"Milady why don't you take a bath before meeting the princess? I'll have the room and the basket ready for you".

"Mmm what do you say Joon?" She whispered mischievously "Want to take a bath with me?"

----

In the privacy of the room, her muffled moans could be heard over the ripple of water.

"Joon" she whined, scratching his wrists to let him know he needed to help her move her hips faster.

His lips were on her chest, on her neck and on her lips, silencing her sounds.

After the maid has taken off her clothes and started bathing her, she had lost confidence that her fiancé was going to show up to take a bath with her. But she had been wrong.

After discovering him looking at her from the doorway, she had smiled lustfully. Her body trembling in anticipation, while he took off his glasses and jacket.

"Darling" she called at her maid "Can you leave us? Joon is going to help me finish the bath".

"Sure milady. Let me know when you want to get dressed".

While the maid left her room, he walked over her and helped her wash the soap away.

"I'm glad you are back" he said.

"Me too love, I've missed you so much. You know I hate going away from here".

He kissed the skin over her heart and she sighed, closing her eyes.

"Join me before the water gets cold. I need you".

Nodding, he leaned back and started stripping himself.

Now, she was on top of him, gasping while she closed her eyes and the pleasure flashed through her body.

"R-Right there! Right there Joon!" She moaned loudly, feeling the orgasm course through her, locking her muscles in place. Hugging her tight, he kept moving until he completed himself inside of her. Having the impression to be in another plane, she felt his lips leave ghost kisses on her face and neck.

"I lied to you" she mumbled, spread on top of him.

"About what?"

"I convinced my father about staying here, because I said I wanted to marry you already"

"Really?"

"Yes. Are you mad?"

"Of course not dear" he tenderly mumbled, as he caressed her back.

"Good. I just thought, why wait? We can just get married now and I won't have to go away ever again.

Smiling, he touched her face delicately and put some of her messy hair behind her ear.

"Nothing will make me happier".

"Great!" she exclaimed excitedly "I'll start with the preparations, you won't have to worry about anything. But first things first, I must know the princess already. I want her to be my maid of honor".

"Honey, you are not a friend of the princess".

"Yet darling, yet".

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Hope you like it :)

(And absolutely inspired by Wicked c14 by @adonis-koo )

#au #bts au #bts #kim namjoon #rm #bangtan boys #bangtan sonyeondan #royal #arranged marriage #established relationship #masterlist #drabble #ff #btsfanfic #lifeflowingon

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hisunshiine · 1 year

Text

— a wager of lords & love | myg

♔ pairing: noble!yoongi x noble!reader

♔ au/genre: regency era au, arranged marriage au, s2l, fluff, smut, angst

♔ rating: M

♔ wc: 6,813

⚔ warnings: reader’s mom is not alive, era-appropriate sexism, sex jokes, pet names, bedding ceremony, explicit smut: fingering, marking, light breast play, oral (female receiving), vaginal penetration, multiple orgasms, loss of virginity, you will fall so hard for yoongi.

♔ an: this story was written for Leah | @colormepurplex2 as part of the BangtanWHQ Valentine’s Event “Picture Perfect”. Thank you to my beta readers: @downbad4yoongi, @peachiilovesot7, and @moonleeai; this story was so much fun to write. Your feedback, as always, was valuable to making not only this story at it’s best but also making my day better when reading your comments. I love regency era au’s and this one only made me fall even more madly in love with Yoongi, and I hope you will too! Please enjoy!

“What in heaven’s name did I do last night?”

Yoongi groans as he rolls over in his plush bed sheets, sunlight streaming through the window at an ungodly hour. Ungodly, because he never sleeps in this late, but the Scottish whisky and late night at Lord Kim Namjoon’s manor has made him act out of character in more ways than one.

*flashback to the previous evening*

“Yoongi, it has been too long since we’ve gotten together properly. You must come celebrate. It’s not every day that one as young as I is able to acquire more wealth than what feels like the King himself can own.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes from where he stands across the study from his large oak desk, hand gripping the telephone to his ear as he leans closer to the box on the wall to reply.

“I have a plethora of worries, Namjoon, and none of them can be solved by celebrating your wealth.”

“I beg to differ! Come! Have a drink and make merry, partake in some illicit pleasantries. I am sure that’s just what you need to clear your mind and find a resolution.”

“I doubt I will have a resolution by the night’s end, but against my better judgment, I will be there.”

And Yoongi made sure to keep his promise, strolling into the large manor filled to the brim with the most darling of debutantes from Daehurst to Ilsansterchire. He recalls the way the single women seemed to throw themselves at him, all fluttering eyelashes and demure smiles as if they were captivated by his looks and not the wealth they knew lay in wait for his future bride.

The knowledge of his arrival spread like wildfire through the ballroom and Yoongi had felt himself grow flustered as a gaggle of pristine beauties crowded around him to fight for his attention. He kept his face nonplussed despite the rising anxiety creeping along his outer extremities and towards his chest. Luckily, the arrival of the Earl of Upton Busan and the Marquees of Gwangchester helped reduce the number of women in his presence.

Yoongi remembers pretending to be summoned by a friend, escaping into what he thought was an empty parlor that belonged to the late Lord Kim, but the sitting room, with two walls filled from floor to ceiling with books of all sizes and colors was, in fact, occupied. The large oak desk off to the side held an older gentleman, who also seemed to be happy in his solitude, hiding from the revelry.

The man moved a jewel-encrusted chessman across a marble chess board before looking up at Yoongi, a slight nod of his head summoning Yoongi over to join him. He produced a bottle of Smokehead Islay single-malt scotch whisky that he’d been nursing, poured Yoongi a hefty serving into a Glencairn whisky glass, which he promptly swirled to open up the aromas for full appreciation before downing the entire portion.

He knows that this was the catalyst for the conversation of what was bothering him, and so Yoongi, lips loosened from his liquor intake, shared to whom he found out was the Marquees of Seoulshire, his predicament. How his late father’s younger brother, jealous of his position, was sowing distrust in the elder’s bloodline, touting the fact that his eldest son was already married and with an heir on the way, when Yoongi had yet to take a woman’s hand in marriage despite being five years older than his cousin.

Typically, this would not be such a strange thing; many male nobility did not wed until their late twenties, and Yoongi only recently turned his twenty-ninth year, but with his estranged uncle vying to take over the wealth and power of the entire family following his father’s passing, Yoongi had to procure a wife, and fast.

Bonding with the elder nobleman, both introverts sequestered themselves with flowing, piquant beverages, and a small miniature of the only daughter of the Marquees produced for viewing, and thus, a drunken deal was struck for the hand of his only daughter to be wed in one week’s time to the Duke of Daehurst, Min Yoongi. That only daughter being none other than…

You stare at your reflection in the full length mirror. The white dress, with its cut right beneath your bosom, is stifling despite its beauty, and the body of the gown falls along your figure gently. The sleeves are loosely capped, a lace frill edging the cuffs and the line of your decolletage. Your hair is pinned up, with a tiara inlaid with precious stones as the centerpiece to secure the veil flowing down your back in place.

The gloved hand of your maid of honor, Eleanor, who you lovingly refer to as Ellie, reaches up to fluff the veil, nervous energy displacing itself as she holds back from igniting your ire again. You have only just calmed down as your lady’s maid, Charity, places the last of the thrown perfume bottles back on the vanity. You had catapulted them for good reason, you believe. For in a few minutes, you, the unmarried daughter of the Marquees of Seoulshire, will walk down the aisle in the Duke of Daehurst’s manor, towards a man you have never spoken to—have never met—where your traitorous father plans to give you away to become the Duchess of Daehurst.

“Lady Eleanor, will you please take your spot at the door?” Charity asks quietly, following a quick rap on the door, and you feel your heart begin a mad dash within the cavity of your ribcage. As a woman, you have nothing—no power, no wealth of your own, even your title changes from your father to that of your future husband. Some of the things your father has bought you have traveled from your home to the Duke’s, but other items are expected to be bought new, because even they belong to your father. Your only worth lies in the ability to be a proper match for a nobleman and provide him with an heir to carry on his bloodline.

A rush of anger quells the sadness this arranged marriage has left you feeling this past week, since your father went back on the one promise he made you: that you could marry for love, like he did with your late mother, rest her soul.

You scoff at the thought that men should hold any power in society. In one moment, your own father forgot his loyalty as well as his promise to his only daughter. In a drunken stupor, two men agreed to trade you like chattel, your position in life changing in the blink of an eye. Useless, is what they are.

The door is open just a sliver, allowing in the swell of the music, and you hear the creak of the hinges as Ellie disappears down the hall. Your father stands in the corridor, his eyes staring at the floor, unable to meet yours. You can tell he feels rather guilty for the predicament he has forced on you, but with the knowledge that he is not actually mad at the match, you still feel furious. Marrying up in society may afford you a better life, not that you would have had a destitute one with your father’s title, you’d just hoped (and had been promised you would get) to be in love with the man waiting at the end of the aisle for you, instead of dreading the stranger you were about to meet.

Barely able to focus, you feel out of body as your father wraps your arm through his and leads you down the same path Ellie took just moments before. You can see the archway that leads into the wedding hall where your family and friends wait to observe you promise to obey and cherish a man who was described to you by your father as a “rather strapping young man, who’s quiet but wise and with gentle eyes.”

Taking the turn into the room, all eyes are drawn to you as your eyes are drawn to him. He looks breathtaking. Is this truly the man your father made a drunken deal with? The two of you lock eyes, and you work to fix the shock from your face as his demeanor barely changes. In a blink, your father is placing your hand into the Duke’s, and you are able to take in his features up close.

His face is sharp, eyes angled in a cat-like manner that give the impression he is gazing into your soul and sees the truth you attempt to keep hidden. His hair, wavy and pitch black, is parted to the side where the length falls into his face in an alluring manner. It calls to you, wanting to tuck it behind his ear if only to touch his porcelain skin, unblemished and glowing.

He watches you closely, eyes traveling across your frame as he follows your lead, drinking you in. You’re sure that you still look flawless, ever the blushing bride that Charity and Ellie made you up to be, and for a moment you wonder if the Duke is as taken by your looks as you are by his, before remembering that he is the enemy.

The ceremony ends quickly, a recitation of words that will join you in holy matrimony, followed by words promising to remain faithful to one another until parted by death, and you find yourself face to face with the Duke. He takes a small ring from the man right behind him, Lord Kim Namjoon, who you recognize from his many visits to handle business with your father.

“Like this ring, I shall endlessly provide for you and cherish you, until I no longer exist.”

You can hear Ellie swoon from the low tone his voice takes to deliver the sentiment as he stares into your eyes. Vulnerability flashes for a moment before he looks down, focus solely pointed towards the task of claiming you by way of a golden wedding ring, moonstone inlaid with tiny diamonds surrounding it.

Ellie nudges you to hand you the ring provided for the ceremony by the Min family. It is a deep ebony, with a single thin gold stripe running across the middle of the band. The top is raised to a plateau, a moonstone carved with the Yeoheung Min Clan symbol set within the ring.

Taking the regalia from her gloved palm, you recite your part with eyes on him. Despite your anger at the arrangement, he truly is breathtaking. It takes away from the sting of your words just barely, enough that you are able to deliver them without gagging on the bristling words.

“Like this ring, I shall endlessly obey and cherish you, until I no longer exist.”

You barely hear when the minister says that the two of you are free to share a kiss, but you dutifully keep your face calm as your stomach ties itself into knots.

He leans closer, blush colored lips drawing closer until your eyes close with the contact. So soft…his lips tenderly settle against yours, slight pressure as he angles his head to receive you better, hands falling to your hips gently as he tugs you a step closer and it’s like the room disappears leaving just the two of you in it.

All too soon the room comes back into focus as he steps away, face blushing as the room erupts into applause and cheer from the audience. The end of the ceremony is like a blur, and the next thing that you are aware of, you are seated for an early dinner and a reception in the Daehurst Manor Great Hall for guests to greet you and your new husband, leave expensive gifts, and offer kind words of advice for a long-lasting, happy marriage.

“Would it be weird to introduce myself to you, seeing as I am already your spouse?”

His voice is intriguing—having barely heard it during the ceremony—a low rumble that has you leaning in to hear him better.

“I assure you, my lord, weird was deciding for me that I would marry you, without even bothering to meet me beforehand. What if I had been an ogre? But I digress, it’s not any weirder than hearing you call yourself my husband, husband.”

He smiles, one side of his mouth lifting in an amused smirk as he turns in his seat to face you head on. You dislike him even more that your snide remark made not a dent in his armor. No trace of the bashful hue from the kiss lingers, cat eyes glinting with mischief.

“A pleasure to make your acquaintance, my non-ogre wife. I am Duke Min Yoongi of Daehurst.”

Charity and Ellie can barely contain their laughter as they stare at your contemptuous face. Eyebrows furrowed and arms crossed, you shake your head rapidly in distaste at the bedding ceremony outfit they laid out for you.

“I simply will not wear it.”

“Please, Lady Min, you will leave him stunned. It’s perfect.”

“Who said I want to stun that man? Besides, I cannot be seen in so little clothing by a stranger!”

“He’s hardly a stranger, love,” Ellie said, ignoring your stubborn nature. “He’s your husband.”

“Yes, my husband whom I have known all of two hours! I’m just expected to strut in wearing this to please him, and then—” you pause, stricken as your thoughts settle on what is expected of you.

“Yes, you will wear this very thoughtful gift from me, and then you will consummate the marriage!” Ellie whispers the act as if conspiring to commit a crime. To be fair, you felt like a criminal for how indecent the undergarments were.

Laid on the bed was a short, white boned corset, all frill and lace with a matching pair of high waisted drawers. Ellie had also provided a matching pair of white stockings, made of silk and to be held up with ruffled garters at your thigh. There was a silky chemise that you could wear as a tunic to cover yourself, but once in the Duke’s bedroom, he would see you in all of your risque glory.

“Come now, m’lady, we must finish getting you ready. I am sure the men are chomping at the bit to begin the ceremony.”

Dread fills you as you strip from your wedding dress and step into the lingerie your maid of honor gifted you for your wedding night.

“Well, they can just chomp a bit longer, maybe they can tire each other out enough that I am not needed tonight.”

Having only bathed two hours prior, you are able to skip the bath and spend a few more precious moments with your closest friends. You didn’t have a mother to talk to about things like bedding ceremonies, having learned everything you could from the head house matron, kitchen maids, Charity, and Ellie. Ellie was able to convince her own mother to share a little this past week to help you, but there was still so much you felt you did not know to expect.

As Charity brushes your hair, Ellie spreads a glittering, perfumed powder onto your skin as she talks in the background of the excitement she feels, but you cannot bring yourself to share in it. With a quick twist and pin, your hair is up and you find your feet leading towards the Duke’s wing of the manor. You can hear the merrymaking from the reception still carrying on downstairs; with a wedding as important as yours, you were sure that the people would be here celebrating your union until the sun began to rise.

The door to the Duke’s room is ajar, loud laughter coming from the well lit room. Ellie walks arm in arm with you as Charity follows behind, seeing you off. As your lady’s maid, she’ll reside with you in the Daehurst manor. The housekeeper stands a few paces from the door to lead Charity to her new quarters. Bidding you goodnight, Charity retires for the evening as you and Ellie enter the bedchamber. It is quite spacious, with a large bed in the middle of the room. To the left of the entryway sits a low table surrounded by a pair of armchairs and a matching loveseat, all framed by a magnificent fireplace.

Every seat is taken, with three men squeezing onto the loveseat and a sixth perched on the edge of one of the armchairs. You don’t recognize five of the six men, though Lord Kim Namjoon is among them. You do not see your new husband, so you and Ellie remain standing away from the men so as not to be seen as indecent.

“Duchess! You have arrived for your bedding ceremony, have you not?” A blond haired man nearly falls from the love seat, giggles alerting you to his inebriation. An open decanter sits on the squat table, almost empty.

“Please, Jimin, on all things that are holy, do not bother my wife.”

Your head whips around at the gravely sound of the Duke’s voice. Yoongi looks freshly bathed, no longer in a suit but in a long tunic that sits untucked over loose, black trousers. His dark hair falls in damp curls framing his face, and you hold in a small gasp.

“I won’t bother her hole-y, hyung—that’s your job! Get her all hot and bother—”

“Get out.”

The giggling, intoxicated men all look to Yoongi, pouting with various levels of frowns and scowls adorning their faces. You and Ellie watch the interaction, Ellie with a smile at their banter and you with a grimace as you attempt to keep yourself from growing warm at the indecent remarks regarding what is to come.

“But hyung!” You watch as another one pouts, standing from the loveseat to full height to plead with your husband. “You’re the first to be wed, we’ve been talking about being witnesses for each other for years!”

“Taehyung, you know the plan was to be here when she arrived as a testament to the wedding night, but never to stay. I appreciate your…excitement, but now that you can confirm the duchess’s arrival, you all may take your leave.”

“Appreciate our excitement, but won’t let us stay to watch as you get exci—”

“Jungkook, that’s enough! Out, now!”

With a groan, the three mischievous men begin to walk out of the bedchamber, waving at the older three who are slow to get up. Ellie squeezes your hand in unity before stepping away to follow the boisterous group out into the hall.

“I’ll see you at breakfast, love. I’ll be traveling back to Seoulshire with your father tomorrow afternoon.”

You can only nod, aware of the plans but seeing her linger to make sure that you are okay. You give her a smile, and she finally steps through the threshold behind the first troupe of men to return back to the room you had prepared in. The last three men follow, greeting you and saying goodnight in the same breath.

“It is a pleasure to see you, my lady. I pray that by morning you are able to turn this peevish man affable.”

“Enjoy your night, Duchess!”

“Yeah, all two minutes of it!”

Yoongi thunders to the door, shutting it as the group bursts into laughter muffled by the oak barrier. He turns the lock, then turns his back to it to lean against. You can’t help but to watch him, chest rising before he releases a long sigh. He reaches a hand up to his neck, scratching subtly. The sleeve of his tunic slides along his arm, revealing more unblemished skin. His head is facing the carpet, ink-colored hair falling to cover his face—a face you think you could like very much—eventually. Though right now, even the thought is not enough to quell your irritation at your welcoming.

“I am so sorry for my friends’ behavior.”

His apology startles you. You are not used to men of his prestige to be so easy to offer an apology. During the wedding and at the reception, he appeared stoic, quiet and observing except for the few moments he engaged with you. You assumed it was just happenstance, that he was playing off of your stubborn jests, but seeing him now so open makes you wonder.

“My lord, no need to apologize. They were inebriated and excited for our coupling. Ellie was excited too, though she was better at keeping it hidden.”

“Yes, women do tend to be better at that. More practiced.”

“Do you truly believe that? I have watched my father work, and all noblemen seem to be very good at hiding their emotions.”

Yoongi smirks at your wit, pushing off of the door and walking closer to you.

“You are quite keen, my lady.”

His compliment startles you, as does his encroaching proximity. It is not menacing, if anything you are startled by your body’s response to it. His scent, a heady, woodsy musk infiltrates your senses causing any lingering animosity you had towards your father for this arrangement to seep from you. You’re tired of fighting; the knowledge of having lost before even starting lingering in your mind each time you fight back against the marriage has exhausted you. Still, you want to make sure that the Duke is aware that while you may be acquiescent, you are not easily compliant.

“My lord, I—” you look down at your hands, stumbling over your anger as you collect your thoughts. “I just want to say that I know neither of us wanted this, neither of us knew what to expect until we saw each other today, but I made a vow, so I promise to try my best, but I don’t know what I’m doing or what you expect from me, and I don’t think that I will be good at obeying, so please do not expect that from me. You may be a duke and my husband, but I demand that you treat me as an equal—”

“Shhh…” Yoongi’s thumb and forefinger grip your chin, tilting your head up to face him. You have no idea when he got so close. “I spent quite some time with your father, my lady. He spoke very highly of you and even produced your miniature from his coat pocket to show me. I may have been drunk, but I was not a fool in my decision.” His eyes rove across your face as he gently tilts your head side to side. “You are much more beautiful than the painting captured.”

If he’s hoping that flattery will tamper your annoyance, you feel he will need to try a bit harder. Though, to be fair, his flattery is working on you. Pair that with his face, and he’s doing quite a good job at putting out the fire, but you still remain steadfast.

“How lucky to be a man. You got to see a sample of the product before buying, while I just had to trust that my father wasn’t so drunk that he sold me to the next man who walked past?” You scoff, crossing your arms as you raise your chin out of his hold in defiance.

“Trust me, princess, the luck was all mine. Had I not been the next man to walk by, who knows what woman I would have had to settle for.”

You can’t believe he’s teasing you. Calling you princess and making jokes off of your distress. You want to smack the smirk off his face. You want to kiss him again like at the altar. You’re clearly confused after such a long day of upheaval.

“Right, because any woman should be grateful that you chose them? I was promised I would get to marry for love, just to wake up and be told I was marrying a stranger in a week.”

“Are you really angry because of this arrangement? Not that you should be grateful that I chose you, but you should be thankful for the life that you have, even before me. Not everyone lives how we do.”

Shock. That’s the only way to explain what you are feeling. He is not…man-splaining society’s plights to you, is he?

“I quite know this, my lord. I never said I was not grateful for my life, just that I am currently upset at a promise being broken.”

“Princess, I am sure you know this, but in your stubbornness, you seem to have forgotten yourself. You have a good life, you have food on the table prepared daily by the cooks and maids, and are not having to whore yourself out for a few coins to feed yourself.”

“No, I just have to whore myself to you for the rest of my life, provide you with heirs as soon as possible.” You decide to not hold back; if he’s going to be vulgar as a tactic, two could play at that game. “I may not be whoring myself out for a few coins to feed myself, but let’s not kid ourselves. We both know that I am not seen as anything more than a vessel for your cock and your children to use.”

“Tell me, princess, are you upset because you truly think me some evil, vile man, or are you actually more upset that you don’t have a real reason to push me away?”

Yoongi steps away from you, walking over the bed and settling down on the edge. You can’t help but watch the way his veins move as he leans back and rests on his palms. He’s so handsome and so assured of himself, and behaving as if he doesn’t even care that it’s your wedding night. You really don’t know how to explain how you’re feeling, because everything is at odds. He mistakes your silence during your internal debate as confusion and continues to explain.

“I know I’m not unappealing to the eye, and not an old geezer like many of your friends have had to deal with, I’m sure. We probably aren’t that far off in age difference, if there even is any. We’re young, and while you may be feeling angry about this marriage, I also get the feeling that you’ll be open to letting that anger go soon.”

“I barely know you, my lord, so please don’t take offense to this, but what, pray tell, gives you the feeling that I’ll be letting my anger go soon?” you ask, walking over to where he sits. You feel powerful as you position yourself right in front of him, and being above him like this with his head turned up in order to lock eyes with you, makes his cat eyes look even more alluring.

“Because, my dear wife,” Yoongi leans forward, entering your space as he brings his right arm up off the bed and to your thigh, “of what I plan to do to you tonight.”

Yoongi’s touch is like fire as he drags it up your thigh to the hem of your chemise, using both hands to grip the edge and pull you even closer to him. You inhale a breath, your body giving away just how much he affects you. The last tiny bit of you fights to not give in, that is, until he pouts up at you.

“If you’ll let me?”

Never have you experienced a man handing control over to you like this. All your life, you have been told what to do, how to behave, who to befriend, and even who to marry despite being promised that would be the one area you could decide. But here sits your husband, a man who quite literally holds you in his hands, able to do whatever he wants with your body now that he essentially owns you—this husband of yours is asking your permission to ruin you.

Unable to speak, you simply nod, eyes wide as he stands, and he never looks away from yours until your chemise blocks his view as he pulls it over your head. Now it’s his turn to inhale sharply as he takes in your angelic form. White lace corset ending just below the bust, high waisted lacy bottoms, ruched garters around each thigh with a clasp to hold your silk stockings in place…an angel, indeed.

Leaning closer to you, his words send tingles down your body as he pleads with you.

“I need you to say it, my lady,” he whispers, “tell me that I can touch you here.”

You jolt as you feel his hands touch the exposed skin of your side.

“Y-yes,” you say, clearing your throat due to how parched you sound.

“And can I, say, touch you here?” One hand trails lower, fingers dancing over the front of your drawers as the other holds you in place. Two of his fingers slide between your thighs, pressing against your core, and you sigh out a quiet moan.

“Is that a yes?”

“Yes, my lord.”

“Good girl.”

His fingers continue to travel back and forth, slight pressure causing you to grasp his shoulders for balance. He drops his head into the bend of your neck, lips leaving wet kisses on your overheated skin. He smells divine, his long hair tickling your cheek as he continues kissing and touching you. Your breathing gets louder, and he responds in kind, speeding up his fingers as you feel yourself ruining your panties for this man.

“Y-yoongi…that f-feels really good,” you tell him, surprise lacing your whimpers. You don’t want him to stop touching you, if anything you want more. Yoongi’s lips are latched onto your neck, tongue swirling with light pressure as your knees grow weak. With a light nip of his teeth, he pulls away to speak.

“I want you to always feel good with me, princess.” His gravelly voice is full of yearning, and you can tell he’s just as affected as you are. “I promise you’ll always feel good, if you let me take care of you.”

You can only nod your head, words eluding you as he turns you in his hold, pressing your back to his front while letting his fingers slide inside of your panties and part your lips. You feel his length pressing between your cheeks, thick and firm. He steps backwards with you, pulling you down until the two of you are seated on the edge of the bed. You’ve never been so turned on, dropping your head back to lean on his shoulder as he pulls one thigh to open you up wider.

You put up no fight, instead grinding down on him as you swirl your hips in time to the pads of his fingers circulating your dripping center. His lips reattach to your exposed neck, this time with more passion and it almost distracts you when his fingers dip inside of you, bucking once in his grip at the welcome intrusion. He’s gentle, only going as far as you let him, and the more he does it, the less you tense up, until he’s gliding in and out of you.

You’re unable to stay quiet any longer, every breath letting out a moan that is a melody to Yoongi’s ears.

“I…Yoongi, I think…I’ve never done this before, what’s happening?” you breathe out, and he chuckles darkly.

“Do you trust me?”

“I—”

“I promise it’ll feel good, okay? Trust me, and don’t fight it.”

“But—” his fingers don’t let up, and you squirm on his lap.

“Princess, be a good girl and trust me, don’t fight it—don’t fight me anymore.”

“O-okay, I trust you, Yoongi.”

Letting go, you relax into his hold as he resumes kissing your neck, left hand pulling your chin until your lips meet his in a sloppy sideways kiss. His foot presses against the inside of yours until you groan at the muscle strain. Your legs are so far apart, but it feels even better as his fingers begin a rapid thrusting. He swallows all of your whimpers as you feel your body reaching a peak and it all just feels so good, his free hand leaving your chin to touch your chest, hands roaming as you rock your hips to meet his palm against your sensitive nub and with a simultaneous bite to your bottom lip and pinch to your neglected nipple; you feel yourself combust.

You swear you see fireworks behind your eyelids as you tremble in Yoongi’s arms, barely alert enough to hear him whispering words of praise as he works you through it. It’s not long (or has it been ages?) before your hands push at his, overstimulation causing you to mewl in frustration.

It feels good and you don’t want to stop, but your body can’t take more. Not right now at least.

“That’s it, you did so well.”

“Me?” you question, voice raspy. “I didn’t even do anything but sit here.”

“Trust me, you did plenty. I think you can feel exactly what you did to me.” Yoongi alludes with a slight thrust of his hips, and you in fact do feel him.

“That’s because of me?”

“It’s all because of you. Your sounds, the way you were grinding onto me, the way you taste…” Yoongi slides his fingers into his mouth, sucking your essence from his two fingers lewdly. “You made me this way.”

Your face grows impossibly warmer at the thought of the power you have over a man such as he, and your ability to bring him to this level of vulnerability.

“Does…does it always feel like that?” you question, wondering if it could possibly get better.

Yoongi can barely contain his smirk, “Oh, dear wife, that was just the appetizer.”

Lifting you off of his lap, he sets you down next to him so he can stand and shed himself of his clothing. Naked, he stands before you in all of his glory so you can take in just how well endowed the duke is before kneeling on one knee.

“Can I take these off of you?” he asks, hands gesturing to your hips. You softly say yes, and once your ruined drawers are discarded, he then touches the sides of your corset. “And these?” Nodding, he leaves you in just your silk stockings. “I rather like how these look…”

Still kneeling, he takes your leg and leans you back until you’re sprawled on your back and he has a perfect view of your heated core. He kisses along your clothed leg until he reaches the skin of your thigh, biting lightly until he rests your leg on his shoulder. Turning to the other leg, he does the same, this time going all the way up. You throw your head back into the soft, satin sheets as your hands grip whatever they can. His tongue explores your sensitive area, lapping at your pearl until you’re incoherent, hands tugging at his long tresses to guide him where you want him.

There are no words to describe how Yoongi is making you feel. You’ve never felt this way before, so powerful or in control. You wonder if he’ll always be this willing to hand over the reins. Either way, you plan to savor it.

The sounds coming from between your thighs are obscene, but the louder and sloppier Yoongi is, the better it feels.

“Yoongi, oh!” Your toes curl as another wave of euphoria grips you. Tender kisses along your stomach just barely keep you from floating away as Yoongi brings himself higher and higher along your body. His teeth nip at your breasts, teasing as he laves his tongue around your nipples, perky against the air in the room. Chest heaving, you try to gather your wits as Yoongi’s naked body lays along yours, his hands on either side of your chest as he massages them, spending ample time tasting everything your body has to offer.

“My lady, if you’re ready, I’d rather like to feel you.”

In your post climactic haze, you try and understand what he’s asking.

“Feel me?”

“Yes,” he says, kissing your neck and you don’t understand how your body can still crave for more just from his lips on your skin, “I rather ache for you, princess.” The meaning becomes clear when he adjusts himself over you, and you feel the thickness against your thigh. You are aware of what he needs, how he means to alleviate his ache, and for a moment, you’re scared.

It all fades away as he kisses you, his lips soft against yours as he soothes away the worry.

“I’ll be gentle, I promise. If it hurts, just tell me to stop, okay?” he presses another kiss to your lips, and you melt.

“Okay,” you whisper as you pull away from the kiss, “I trust you.”

He smiles, this time a genuine one at your words before kissing you again. You feel yourself getting lost in it when a pressure at the apex of your thighs causes you to gasp. Breaking the kiss, you look between your body and Yoongi’s watching as his cock, flushed and rigid, breaches your core. He’s going slow, and he lowers himself back down to kiss you more, wanting to take your mind off of the pain as he fills you.

“You’re…impossibly tight…” he pants, and you would laugh if you were in the mindset, but at the moment, you are all consumed by Yoongi. He pushes another inch, stopping to allow you to grow accustomed to him, and you know that this is unusual for a wedding night—you have heard the horror stories from other women, and this has been anything but. Yoongi has made sure to let you have ownership of your pleasure tonight, and even now, he looks to you for confirmation that he can continue on without hurting you.

Raising your hips, you help guide him in the rest of the way, and he grunts as his forehead touches yours. His arms shake as he holds himself above you, wanting to take you with haste, but knowing he must control himself for now.

Reaching for him, your palms settle on either side of his face, bringing him closer to kiss you as you roll your hips against him. He huffs, pulling out to give you a good, even stroke, and you nearly scream at the pleasure and pain of it. He apologizes against your lips, but you shake your head, urging for more. He complies, though slower this time, not wanting to scare you off from sharing his bed. Yoongi is so gentle, sweet even as he swivels his hips, and you move your hands to grip his hair and his shoulder, leveraging to meet him with every gyration of your lower body.

A few tugs to his hair leaves him cursing in gratification, and soon you feel his hand reach to your leg to lift. His thighs speed up as he thrusts haphazardly into you before you feel a hot release of his seed filling you and spilling out around his cock, now lazily unloading itself as he slows with each jolt. His release provides you with just what you need to follow him, walls clenching around him to milk the last drop.

Sighing, the two of you lay tangled in the sheets, Yoongi’s fingers smoothing your hair as yours play along his chest, a feverish color now spread across his decolletage after your love making.

“I’ve never experienced such a blissful feeling as this,” you admit.

“Likewise, my lov—my lady.” Yoongi corrects a slight slip of the tongue.

“It’s okay, I think I could quite like being called your love,” you tease, though your words ring true. You now know what you felt with Yoongi. Liberation. A freedom you have never felt as a woman, provided to you in the most surprising of places: the arms of a man.

At breakfast the next morning, Ellie can’t help but notice the way you seem to glow as you sit at your husband’s side. The two of you can’t stop touching, whether it be holding hands or light touches to each other's arm as you two talk with the others who stayed overnight. Being married may not have been what you had seen for yourself a week ago, but after last night, you have a feeling that you could fall deeply in love with your husband, the Duke, and he with you, his Duchess.

“Marriage isn’t all that bad, is it, my love?” Yoongi whispers as the maids pass around the breakfast foods, and you shift your gaze to the marks you left barely hidden by his collar from an early morning romp.

“No, my love, I rather find that you have proven me wrong, and I quite like that.”

“And I quite like you.”

“You had better!”

thank you for reading!!!

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joon4eva · 8 months

Text

just the tip? — kim namjoon.

genre: established relationship au.

summary: you and namjoon are left alone together for a little too long. or: in your childhood home, you learn just how much is really "just the tip" with namjoon.

word count. 3,994 words.

warnings. semi-public sex, namjoon doesn't need much convincing, oral sex (m. receiving) unprotected sex but reader is on birth control, creampie, namjoon takes oc's underwear.

note: happy early bday to our leader who keeps me sane and motivates me to keep living everyday. here is some horny fluff word vomit inspired by all the content we've been getting of namjoon looking delicious in his buzzcut lately. i couldn't resist. pics above are from @rkivsfe ♡

Namjoon seemed plucked straight from the pages of a classic romance, a perfect gentleman in every sense.

Throughout the day, your parents had been gracious hosts at their house, and Namjoon had gracefully navigated each conversation, his charismatic charm and impeccable manners in full display.

Yet, it wasn't the refined qualities occupying your mind; rather, it was his freshly buzzed hair and the allure of his domesticated moments – like when he insisted on helping your mother – that made your heart race, feverish heat flooding your core at the thought of creating a home with him someday.

The both of you had never really properly broached the topic of children, especially since you were on birth control. While you had only been dating for two years, discussions of having children had stayed respectfully on the back burner; the decision to wait until marriage, or at least until life was less hectic, appeared sensible to both of you.

For now, life as it was felt fulfilling.

But lately, as you watched Namjoon tenderly cradle a friend's baby or playfully chase nieces and nephews at family gatherings, you began to see the appeal of having a family with Namjoon. It was hard not to want it sometimes.

It took every ounce of restraint not to lunge at him right there, an insatiable hunger bubbling within, barely contained.

And when the rest of your family continued to mingle in the backyard, that was the moment you decided it was time to make your move.

Namjoon's eyes narrowed perceptively, instantly detecting the undercurrent of mischief in your stride.

Your smile, wide and radiant, was Oscar-worthy enough to mask your ulterior motives from everyone else; however, Namjoon could see right through your seemingly innocent offer of showing him a 'tour' of your childhood bedroom.

Determinedly, you grasped his arm firmly and practically dragged him up the staircase of your parents’ house and up to your old room located at the far end of the second-floor hallway.

—

To his credit, Namjoon nearly fell for your act.

He attentively followed along while you animatedly led him around the room; pointing out the remnants of your teenage years evident in the faded posters of pop bands adorning the walls, a meticulously arranged collection of Studio Ghibli figurines that adorned shelves, and a colorful assortment of plush toys scattered about.

Golden sunlight pours through the window, playing on the sparkle in your eyes as your sundress embraces every curve. Beneath Namjoon’s clothes, a nagging ache intensifies, matched by the growing warmth and strain in his pants as he admires your radiance.

Slowly, time seemed to suspend itself, while the walls in your room appeared to close in on you both. Soon enough, you found yourselves standing face-to-face, completely absorbed by each other's presence.

“You okay?” you ask in a hushed tone.

Namjoon's eyes sparkle with mischief, his eyes shamelessly lingering on your figure. The corners of his mouth turn up in a cheeky grin.

"I know what you’re thinking."

Brows knitting together, you blink in feigned innocence. "I don't know what you're talking about," you murmur, eyes evading his as your arms cross protectively.

“Oh, of course. You were just so eager to show me your room,” he states matter-of-factly.

Namjoon’s grin grows wider as he confidently strides closer, hands casually tucked in his pockets. “Nothing more to it, right baby?”

What a fucking tease.

Warmth creeps up your cheeks as nervous laughter bubbles up, eyes avoiding his penetrating stare – Namjoon always had an uncanny ability to read you like an open book.

It was something that instantly made heat bloom between your thighs. And when he was looking at you like that, it was impossible to hide anything from him.

He tilts his head and studies you with an arched brow. “You have that look.”

“What look?”

“The bedroom eyes. I’ve seen it before.”

“I do not!” you manage to choke out, the words nearly vanishing from your throat.

Namjoon just chuckles, disarmingly smug. “Hm. If you say so.”

Within moments, you uncross your arms and navigate the remaining distance, your hands coming up to explore the contours of his body – fingertips slipping under his shirt, feeling the muscles tensing in his back before coming around and daintily migrating northward across his chest.

Namjoon leans down, claiming your lips with a fleeting kiss. "We probably shouldn't," he breathes out softly against your parted lips.

"Hmmm," you pout. "And why not?"

Not waiting for an answer, your lips continue their exploration – slowly moving from his lips, tracing the angles of his jaw, and dancing between gentle nibbles and fervent suction.

Beneath his shirt, your fingers tease his chest, leaving light scratches before brushing against his sensitive nipples.

It only took seconds before you could feel how hard and ready Namjoon was, as his skin burned hotter beneath your touch and his breaths grew shallow.

Trying to suppress a groan and maintain some level of composure, Namjoon bites down on his lip and whispers your name with an unsteady voice.

"Your family is literally downstairs."

“They’re actually outside.”

Smiling mischievously, you return your attention to him by licking a slow stripe from his neck to the sensitive spot just below his ear – a place you’ve discovered he particularly enjoys being teased.

“I can’t promise I’ll want to stop at just kissing,” he warns with equal parts desperation and plea – a last attempt at cracking your resolve as his hands reflexively grip your waist in a manner both possessive and protective.

“And what?” you breathe out, each word soft and slow, a challenge in disguise. “Where would you want to stop?”

“I won’t.”

Softening your gaze, you allow your lips to ghost over his. “Then don't hold back,” you whisper, pressing a tender kiss to the corner of his mouth.

His heated gaze flickers across every inch of you – taking in your expression, the way your body presses against his. You couldn't resist further taunting him.

Your hands slide down his chest and towards the belt loops of his jeans, giving them a playful tug before swiftly moving to unbutton them.

It’s at this moment that Namjoon seems to snap out of his haze.

His lust-addled stupor evaporates like lifting fog, replaced by a rush of clarity where the lines between right and wrong become difficult to blur.

Suddenly decisive, he intercepts your wandering hands with a firm but gentle hold.

“____. No.”

“I’ll be quiet,” you promise him, a sultry smirk playing on your lips, both tempting and dangerous.

“Baby. We are not fucking in your parents’ house—especially in broad daylight.”

"Oh, Joonie…" you sigh lovingly, pressing a tender and lingering kiss to the small mole just below his lip.

"Always such a gentleman. Holding my hand, praising me in front of my parents, even charming my mom... You don’t wanna fool around with me here?"

Namjoon's mouth opens as if to protest further, but any words that threaten to come out are swallowed up by a groan that he struggles to stifle at the sensation of you swiftly tugging down his jeans and boxers, just enough for you to wrap your warm, tight hand around his thick length.

"You’re…s-seriously out of your mind. We…we really shouldn't," he manages to utter, each word strained by the effort he puts into maintaining control – his dark eyes burning with barely restrained desire.

You pause your movements and look into his eyes. "We can make it quick. I promise I'll be quiet."

But you knew Namjoon had always preferred taking things slow, savoring every moment, especially during sex with you. He was never really a fan of rushing, and you learned along the way he was big on foreplay.

Yet seeing you present yourself before him like a priceless treasure, accompanied by batting those alluring, pleading eyes at him, Namjoon can't help but consider going against his instincts for once – if only for five fleeting minutes.

“I knew you didn’t want to bring me up here just to—Fuck, hold on. Wait,” he stammers, suddenly remembering, “I– I don’t have any condoms. Well, I didn’t bring any, for obvious reasons.”

An awkward silence settles between you two as the unspoken question lingers, and you gaze into his eyes, searching for an answer.

His eyes widen just a fraction when he realizes what you’re silently asking.

“God, are you…—? No," he says firmly. "Absolutely not."

"But I've been on birth control for years!" you whine.

Namjoon closes his eyes briefly and exhales sharply, tension radiating from his clenched jaw.

“Babe,” he utters with a heavy sigh.

"Namjoon," your voice is barely audible as you breathe the plea into the curve of his neck, the warm air causing a shiver of desire to course through him.

Your thumb glides across the tip of his cock, smearing the glistening pearl of pre-cum that gathers from the tip.

Your lips begin to trail gentle kisses along the length of his throat, all while teasingly drawing the tip of your fingers up and down his shaft.

Namjoon's breath catches in response to your touch, gasping as he involuntarily thrusts upwards to meet your hand.

“What about ‘just the tip’?” you whisper. “Isn’t that something that guys like to do?”

“Well… I-I’m paranoid and we should be careful,” he stammers out. “It only takes one time, you know. Can’t this wait until we get home?”

Noticing his faltering resolve, your lip catches between your teeth to suppress a sly grin. Wordlessly, you slowly sink to your knees in front of him.

He watches transfixed as your tongue traces a slow path up the engorged vein of his cock, pausing to swirl around the head before taking him fully into your warm mouth.

Namjoon emits a soft groan - hands delicately cradling your jaw - while your cheeks hollow and your head begins to bob rhythmically, dewy eyes peeking out from beneath your lashes to watch him.

His head falls back and his eyes squeeze shut, fighting to restrain a moan as desire shoots through him like wildfire, fuelling your own craving for him even more fervently.

You could sense him teetering on the edge, his self-restraint waning with each moment until, in one deft motion, he withdraws from your mouth just enough to stagger back, hoisting you up by your arms and steering you backwards until the mattress edge halts against your knees and topples you onto it.

“You’re fucking shameless, you know that?” he pants, scrambling to shove his pants further down and stepping between your legs, holding his hard cock and leaning over you.

Below him, you giggle and hurriedly push your dress up, sliding your panties down and kicking them aside.

Grabbing your wrists, he pulls them over your head and pins them there.

And as his body aligns with yours – his strong chest firm against your breasts, his crotch deliciously nestled between your thighs – every last drop of doubt vanishes from both of your minds.

Under the sultry gaze of his darkened eyes, he grips your face, his large hands cupping your delicate cheeks, thumbs tenderly caressing the soft skin.

Your mouths meet urgently; his lips hungrily pressing against yours to lick and tug at your bottom lip, expertly swallowing every stifled sound that begs release.

"Joon," you murmur tenderly against his parted lips, pausing between kisses. "Touch me, please."

Your honeyed pleas don't go unanswered; Namjoon's hands swiftly comply with your demand, gently pulling down the elastic neckline of your dress far enough to let your breasts spring free.

"Such a tease, wearing this," Namjoon grunts, grabbing a fistful of your dress, "fuck."

His eyes darken at the sight before him: your dress invitingly pooled at your waist, thighs parted and slightly glistening from your arousal visible even to him. It was nearly impossible for him to deny you anything at all when you pleaded with that breathy, needy tone.

His lips move with purpose, trailing a series of warm, sweet kisses across your collarbone, down to the valley between your breasts – lingering just long enough to elicit a breathy gasp before grazing your stiff nipples with feather-light nips.

You struggle to bite back any gasping moans – honoring the promise you hastily made earlier – with only the softest sighs escaping your pursed lips.

“Feels good?" Namjoon murmurs softly, his hand navigating the space between your bodies to trace delicate circles around your throbbing clit.

"God, you're soaking wet already and I've hardly touched you."

Desperately trying to maintain silence, you find your hips moving instinctually in rhythm with the sinfully slow motions of his long fingers. They gather your slickness, teasingly near your dripping entrance with one finger before returning upward to trace unhurried, deliberate circles on your clit again with two fingers.

“Wanna come first?”

Your bottom lip captured between your teeth, you shake your head.

"Can we… Can you pull out?" breathlessly escapes from your lips.

He groans your name gently, punctuating his words with a delicate nip on your jawline. "What happened to 'just the tip'?"

"I changed my mind," you whine weakly, stifling a frustrated groan when his fingers stop their movements.

Namjoon's chuckle against your skin is light and teasing. "My greedy girl,” he coos affectionately against your lips before pressing a lingering kiss on the corner of your mouth.

“Wonder what your parents would think if they knew that right now, their precious daughter was up here with me, legs spread wide and begging for me like this? Hmmm?"

His dirty words make you choke on a barely suppressed moan, but you do nothing to discourage him.

He doesn't pull his fingers away from your aching core – instead, he bends down to lick them clean before gently pressing them back inside of you.

“Please, just please, can we…” your voice falters as it dissolves into unintelligible murmurs, desperate for relief, desperate for him to fill you up the way you want.

"So needy," Namjoon chuckles softly at your struggle for coherence; swiftly replacing his fingers with the head of his cock.

"You’re sure about this?" he whispers hoarsely, the feel of him nudging at your entrance sending already rioting butterflies into overdrive.

Your hands instinctively slide over the firm contours of his backside, urging him closer as your hips rock against his. “Wanna feel you. All of you,” you softly mewl in his ear.

A primal growl emerges from Namjoon’s throat before he nips lightly at the tender flesh of your neck. “So filthy.”

Namjoon finally pushes inside of you, inch by torturous inch, until he’s buried to the hilt inside of you, slowly filling and stretching you in a way that makes your legs shudder and lock around his waist.

His hips still, giving you time to get adjusted, or perhaps in an attempt to try to steady himself.

He nuzzles into your neck, spreading his warm breath all over the soft skin there, nudging aside the fabric of your dress to press a kiss to your bare shoulder.

Your arms come up to wrap around his neck, fingers dancing across his freshly trimmed head, massaging and scratching softly at his scalp.

Your hips slightly roll to guide him deeper, enticing him to start moving.

It's sheer, unadulterated bliss as he pumps into you, filling you up in perfect harmony with your own unsteady breaths.

It feels even better than you thought – so warm and wet and snug around him, nothing has ever felt as good in your life.

Out of all the things you and Namjoon have tried, this was something that you just haven’t done.

And now you know you were ruined.

Ruined for using a condom ever again with this man. Your pulse is pounding so hard against your ears that it seems impossible to focus on anything else at this moment but him and how good it feels to have him bare inside of you.

"You feel so fucking good, baby," Namjoon breathes hotly against the column of your throat. "So tight around me."

He’s fucking into you agonizingly slow and deep; his movements are deliberate and unhurried, each deep, slow stroke filling the air with your muffled moans and the wet sounds of your slick bodies every time his hips snap up against yours.

His hand entwines with yours, palm-to-palm above your head, while his other arm holds you closer by the thigh curled around his waist.

Enveloped in a sensuous fog where your senses blur and bend, you feel him gradually quicken his pace, each thrust growing more intense.

Namjoon nuzzles his face into your neck, soft moans vibrating against your skin.

Teasingly, his pulsating shaft glides out completely – slow, torturously slow – pausing just before thrusting back in; filling you completely, his tip applying pressure to a hidden sweet cluster of nerves within you that ignites an uncontrollable tightening around him.

An unfamiliar sound escapes from your throat – a strange mixture of a whimper and his name – and he gasps before laughter takes over. His hand comes up to quickly muffle your sounds.

"Babe," he warns between giggles and gasps for air. "You promised you'd be quiet."

“But—” your weak rebuttal trails off as warmth spreads across your face and tears gather at the corners of your eyes. “B-but it’s just so… F-feels… so…”

"Shhh, I know," he whispers tenderly against your mouth.

Namjoon’s hand trails from the curve of your thigh to weave through your hair, tightening at the back of your head and pulling you into another heated, sloppy kiss.

“Doing so well for me,” Namjoon whispers between kisses. “Taking it all.” More kisses. Rougher and wetter. “S-so pretty… so fucking pretty wrapped around me like this.”

With each impassioned stroke, you cling to him; muffled moans of his name escaping between breathless kisses as waves of warmth wash over you.

"Want you to come... come inside, Joon, please," you softly plead.

Ardor begins to strain at every seam, your sweet plea threatening to shatter Namjoon's restraint, nearly sending him over the edge.

“Yeah? You close, baby?”

Your eyelids grow heavy, closing tightly as your head fervently bobs in agreement, words failing you.

To this, Namjoon plunges into you with a growl. His cock kisses your g-spot, again and again – and his face is a canvas of pure ecstasy as he thrusts forcefully, his hips colliding with yours while he drives himself even deeper, almost as if he was working to etch himself into your very being.

Your teeth press into his shoulder to muffle your sobs, while your hands frantically wander— sliding under his shirt to rake at the damp skin of his back or bunching at the wrinkled sheets, desperately searching for something to ground you as he pounds into you, each powerful motion stealing more breath from your lungs. It’s a drawn-out, slow rolling orgasm that he drags out of you.

He fucks you through your climax; deep, steady thrusts that makes your legs quiver and your eyes lose focus as they roll back.

A low, guttural moan suddenly escapes him as warmth begins to flood every nook and cranny within you, occupying and filling every gap.

The pulsating of the thick vein lining the underside of his cock throbs with each burst of his release, while your own walls tenderly constrict around him.

Your vision is consumed by whiteness as your eyes clench shut from the sheer force of shared euphoria, your mind wonderfully blank.

And then, stillness.

He stays buried inside you, his large frame forming a protective shield around your body, like a giant blanket swaddling you both.

His nose gently nestles against the side of your neck, as the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest comes to match yours, slowly and peacefully. Your legs are still wrapped snugly around his waist, your hand tracing slow, lethargic circles on his back beneath his shirt.

“Holy shit,” you breathe in elation, “we should do that more often.”

Namjoon huffs out a laugh. Carefully shifting his weight, he hovers above you, hands on either side of your shoulders. “That good?”

“Yeah,” you exhale with a grin. “Really good.” “Really good,” he echoes with a laughter that dances at the edges of his eyes and alights the depths of his dimples.

And you laugh, too, delightfully dizzy and slightly sticky with perspiration as the sun spills through the window's gaps, rays of golden syrup bathing you in warmth.

Namjoon presses a fleeting but tender kiss to your mouth and gently pulls out of you, leaving a lingering emptiness and a sweet ache in your core that lingers.

His eyes curiously wander down to the apex of your thighs and you watch as his hand wanders down to pry your legs apart, his fingertips holding them open as he watches the warm, viscous fluid of his cum slowly form a trail from your entrance. He traces a gentle finger through the slick aftermath, a satisfied hum resonating as your body shudders with blissful oversensitivity.

In this proximity, he bends down to place a tender kiss on the side of your jaw, with words that now flow like honey. “Think we could make that a priority,” he murmurs.

He follows up with another feathery kiss directly upon your lips - an almost chastely innocent smile dancing across his features, almost sinfully ironic.

You find yourself grinning in response to his obvious overture before letting your hand wander lower on his back.

Slowly, deliberately, almost flirtatiously, it reaches and gropes his rear end. "So would you be open to round two then?" you tease playfully as your fingers pinch just enough for him to know you're serious.

Namjoon’s immediate reaction is priceless – a jolt forward accompanied by an adorably indignant yelp as he tries (and fails) to hide his surprise at your boldness. All he can do is shake his head at you in disbelief before giving in once more to laughter.

Eventually regaining some composure, he chides you gently by flicking your forehead with one finger, mimicking chastisement but betraying nothing but affection. You feign complete agony with a comically exaggerated moan and grip to your forehead, earning another round of laughter from Namjoon.

“Jesus, baby,” he says, exhaling a heavy breath, forcing a laugh. “You’re going to kill me.”

He shifts to a seated position on the mattress next to you before standing up, his back straight and his movements curiously graceful for someone so tall.

Your gaze follows him, transfixed as he grasps the edges of his boxers and jeans, lifting them back over his lean hips.

You have to internally curse at how his shirt clings to him like a second skin, accentuating his broad form as he calmly fastens each button, the muscles in his biceps rippling subtly in the process.

This simple act (an undoubtedly mundane and ordinary action) transforms into a hypnotizing display just by virtue of it being Namjoon.

Shifting your position slightly, you slide the straps of your dress back into place, readjusting the elastic neckline to cover your chest.

Propped up on your elbows, your eyes dart around for your missing panties.

Namjoon seems to be almost telepathic in this moment, glancing over and catching your eye.

Realizing what you're searching for, a playful smirk forms on his lips.

He bends down to retrieve your underwear from its hiding spot on the floor and rather cheekily shoves it into his pocket instead of handing it to you.

Feigning irritation, you huff as he saunters victoriously across the room towards the bedroom door with his stolen trophy secured in his pocket.

“Namjoon,” you protest, now sitting up completely. “I need those!”

"You can have them back later," he calls over his shoulder as he begins opening the door.

The curve of his lips breaking into a gentle smile as he adds, "Let's go home. And don't worry, love - I'll keep these safe for you."

As if to emphasize his point, he gives the pocket safeguarding your panties a delicate pat - one last playful jest before disappearing beyond the doorway.

#knj #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts imagine #kim namjoon #namjoon x reader #bts #namjoon imagine #kpop imagines #kim namjoon imagine

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star-my · 18 days

Text

BTS Fic Recs ☆ Tumblr (i)

These are all available on tumblr as of April 2024. Some are likely crossposted on ao3 as well.

~Ao3 RECS HERE~ ~Recs (ii)~ ~Recs (iii)~

Almost all are complete works, those with “+” after WC are incomplete. Most are BTS x (F!)Reader.

Most of these are Mature or Explicit (usually because of smut) ~ mdni ~ italicized titles rated G or T ~ Please read responsibly

If any authors tagged here wish to be removed/untagged, please lmk! | Shoutout to @ggukkiereads who does an amazing job creating rec lists, which helped me find many of these fics

F2L = friends to lovers ; E2L = enemies to lovers ; FE2L = frenemies to lovers ; R2L = rivals to lovers ; BFB = best friend's brother ; BBF = brother's best friend etc

OT7/Multi

☆ BTS Reactions by @dreamescapeswriting | SFW + NSFW |

☆ BTS Scenarios by @btsjfans | SFW + NSFW |

☆ BTS Scenarios by @bulletproofwhalien | NSFW + SFW |

☆ BTS Scenarios by @salvejoon | SFW + NSFW |

☆ BTS Scenarios by @sunshine-and-bangtan | SFW + NSFW |

☆ Desperado Series by @heartbeatan | Mafia AU | PJM + JJK + KTH (in progress) | 60-160k(+) each

☆ The Company series by @btsmakesmehappy | Agent AU | 25-37k(+) each (in progress)

☆ Mafia BTS Reactions by @ninetailedfoxmanchi | Mafia AU (+Yandere AU) |

☆ #CodeBTS series by @yminie | Mafia AU | 1-12k each

Kim Namjoon

☆ The Ghost in Apartment 1403 series by @notsoguiltykpop | Ghost AU, Supernatural AU, Roommate AU? | ?k

☆ beauty & the bookworm by @jungshookz | E2L Library AU, Uni AU | 20k

☆ la vie en bonsai by @jungshookz | S2F2L Neighbours AU, Baker AU | 38k

☆ The Seven Nights series by @theunknowncryptid | SMAU, Mafia AU | 13k

☆ real magic by @heretobbtstrash | S2F2L Single Parent AU, Coffee Shop AU, Coworkers AU | 17k

Kim Seokjin

☆ {Unavailable}

Min Yoongi

☆ Take One by @untaemedqueen | Pornstar AU | 24k

☆ The Deal series by @untaemedqueen | Mafia AU | ?k

☆ suit & tie by @jungshookz | CEO AU, Office AU, Coworkers AU, PA AU | 21k + drabbles

☆ hellish by @jungshookz | E2L Demon AU, Roommate AU | 22k

☆ strike a chord by @snackhobi | S2L Pianist AU, Bar AU | 16k

☆ straight shooter by @snackhobi | F2L/E2L Cyberpunk AU, Dystopian AU | 14k

☆ devil with the mint hair series by @theharrowing | E2FWB Brother's BFF AU, Stoner AU | 11k+

☆ a wager of lords and love by @hisunshiine | S2L Historical AU, Arranged Marriage AU | 7k

☆ daechwita by @chemicalpink | Daechwita AU, Assassin AU | 10k

☆ stay by @luffles424 | Daechwita AU, Assassin AU | 3k

☆ daechwita by @se0kie | Daechwita AU | 4k

☆ make me proud by @moonscriptsx | Established Relationship AU, Canon Idol-verse | 6k

☆ by its cover by @kittae | S2L Cat Dad AU | 2k

☆ misfortunately, yours by @sor-vette | S2F2L Dark Fae AU, Dark Fantasy AU | 32k

☆ mixtape by @jungblue | F2L Uni AU, Radio AU | 15k

☆ cyberslut by @kimnjss | SMAU, Uni AU, Fboy AU | ?k

☆ alive aha fxck by @softyoongiionly | F2L Neighbours AU, Vampire AU | 43k

☆ a brew of wings by @inkedtae | S2F2L Dragon AU, Witch AU | 10k

☆ fury of their scales by @kpopisthereasonihavenolife | Dragon AU | 18k

☆ inheritance series by @jincherie | Hybrid AU | 21k

☆ tuxedo series by @whatifyoulivelikethat | Cat(-shifter?) AU, Roommates AU | ft JJK | 49k+

☆ Assuage series by @btsqualityy | Omegaverse AU, Werewolf AU | ?k

☆ show by @httpjeon | Pw/oP ft BTS | 2k

☆ drip by @here2bbtstrash | Pw/oP | 5k

Jung Hoseok

☆ midnight confessions by @snackhobi | BFF2L Coworkers AU, Office AU, Buzzfeed Unsolved AU | 27k

☆ the bride of ashmedai by @jeonggukingdom | Demon AU, Arranged Marriage AU | 13k

Park Jimin

☆ The Bird Cage series + The Lion's Den series by @untaemedqueen | S2L Mafia AU | ?k

☆ Set It Off series by @btsqualityy | Mafia AU | ?k

☆ the hunt by @httpjeon | Shifter AU, Fantasy AU | 8k

☆ lovebug by @httpjeon | Hybrid AU | 12k

Kim Taehyung

☆ Pied Piper by @untaemedqueen | Mafia AU, Established Relationship AU | 10k

☆ maybe i do series by @chateautae | Arranged Marriage AU, Chaebol AU, CEO AU | 410k + drabbles

☆ kinda hot by @kimnjss | BFF2L SMAU, Uni AU, Fboy AU | ?k

☆ nip it in the bud by @opaljm | Brother's BFF AU, Piercing AU | 10k

☆ heatwave series by @curly-bangtan | F2L Roommate AU | 12k

☆ under the covers by @jessikahathaway | Agent AU | 23k

Jeon Jungkook

☆ heavy lifting by @snackhobi | Coworkers AU | 13k

☆ Miss Vagabond by @bubblesuga | F2L Gamer AU | 8k

☆ blizzard by @curly-bangtan | S2L Roommates AU | 16k

☆ Sparkle by @btsmosphere | F2L Roommates AU | 3k

☆ Hands-On Learning series by @ladyartemesia | Uni AU | 5k

☆ kiss it better by @jincherie | Uni AU, Sports AU, Cheer AU | 12k

☆ ghosts just wanna have fun by @sugaxjpg | Ghost AU, Supernatural AU, Uni AU | ft MYG + KTH | 20k

☆ tell me your secrets (i'm all ears) by @jinpire | Uni AU, Hybrid AU | 7k

☆ under the bridge by @jincherie | Hybrid AU | 11k

☆ Swipe right by @ppersonna | BFF2L Tinder AU | 9k

☆ overtime by @cupofteaguk | CEO AU, Office AU, PA AU, Coworkers AU | 12k

☆ I won't stop you series by @imsarabum | Vampire AU, Fantasy AU, Office AU, Coworkers AU, CEO AU, PA AU | ?k

☆ life eternal by @jungkookiebus | Fae AU | 9k

☆ hotter than hell series by @chateautae | Demon AU | 136k

☆ Hellblazer series by @jungkookiebus | Demon AU, Constantine AU | ?k

☆ agent of love series by @ppersonna | SMAU, Agent AU | ?k+

☆ strawberry kisses series by @kimnjss | SMAU, Brother's BFF AU, Tinder AU | ?k

☆ drag me down (to hell) series by @kimvtae | Mafia AU, Single Parent AU | 58k (abandoned)

☆ Concealed Weapon by @gimmesumsuga | Mafia AU, Husband AU | 10k

☆ hate sex by @yeoreos | FWB Pw/oP | 4k

Overall Favourite Authors (If I recc'd all their works like I want to/more than I have, I'd have to make this series even longer >.<)

☆ @bonvoyagenoona's masterlist

☆ @chateautae's masterlist

☆ @flowerwrites06's masterlist

☆ @here2bbtstrash's masterlist

☆ @hollyhomburg's masterlist

☆ @icyhobi's masterlist

☆ @jungshookz's masterlist

☆ @justcallmenikki7's masterlist

☆ @kpopfanfictrash's masterlist

☆ @ladyartemesia's masterlist

☆ @luxekook's masterlist

☆ @magicalsalamander's masterlist

☆ @yminie's masterlist

☆ @yoonia's masterlist

#bts fic recs #group: bts #type: fic #i think i did a pretty good job of hiding my yoonkook bias if i do say so myself :]

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i-am-baechu · 1 month

Text

"The legendary seven, Kim Namjoon, Kim Seokjin, Min Yoongi, Jung Hoseok, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, and shit head (Jeon Jungkook). The top students and the wealthiest, they always mean trouble."

Title: Gamer Boy (M)

♡ Summary: Y/N is just an average student at Seoul University but what she doesn’t know is that the person she’s been watching YouTube videos, streams, and having a crush on is the university heartthrob!

♡ Genre: Fluff, romance, smut, enemies to lovers, secret identity, fan girl, pride and prejudice inspired kind of and angst

Title: Mutual Understanding (M)

♡ Summary: She wants nothing to do with love and he hates relationships. Perfect.

♡ Genre: Romance, angst, smut, slow burn, fake relationship au, and cat and mouse vibes

Title: Unread (M)

♡ Summary: Having a crush is hard especially on someone like Kim Namjoon. At least her letters can tell him how she feels without facing the sad reality.

♡ Genre: Fluff, romance, angst, smut, extremely shy reader, heartfelt and crush situation

Title: All The Stars (M)

♡ Summary: Yoongi is asked by his father to visit his grandmother. The only problem is, its in the country side. Going to the country side is dreadful doesn't matter if his grandmothers helper is cute.

♡ Genre: Fluff, romance, angst, smut, slow burn, enemies to lovers, and big city boy and small town girl

Title: Why We Broke up (M)

♡ Summary: It's been a year but Jimin can't stop thinking about Y/N. He doesn't even remember why they broke up. Going down memory road and realizing who you are is hard. Is it to late to get her back?

♡ Genre: Fluff, romance, angst, smut, flashbacks, slow burn, lovers to exes, and exes to lovers

Title: Dancing Queen (M)

♡ Summary: Two sides of the same coin. Hoseok does hip-hop dance while Y/N does ballet. She's from a prestigious dancing family that looks down on other dance forms but she isn't like her family.

♡ Genre: Fluff, romance, angst, smut, opposites attract, love at first sight and romeo and juliet vibes

Title: Pretty Boy (M)

♡ Summary: Somehow someone knows everyone's business. Espically the legendary seven's lives. Seokjin has always been curious about this but never really looked into. He's too focus on figuring out his future wife.

♡ Genre: Fluff, romance, angst, smut, sisters best friend, childhood friends, one sided love to enemies, enemies to lovers and arranged marriage

#bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts jungkook #bts namjoon #bts seokjin #bts taehyung #bts jimin #bts yoongi #bts x reader #bts hosoek #Bts #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #bts masterlist

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raplinesmoon · 8 months

Text

Après Moi, Le Deluge (JHS x F!Reader)

pairing: Hoseok x afab!reader genres/au/rating: angst, smut, some fluff, mafia au, sort of arranged marriage au, exes au, 18+ summary: It was one night. One night where Hoseok sought refuge from the storm outside, from the life he led, from the past that haunted him. And where else does fate lead him but back into your arms?

word count: 8.2k

warnings: the mafia, mentions minor character death, cursing, smoking, alcohol use, use of weapons, strained relationships with parents, mental health issues, mentions threats against people Hoseok cares about, brief, non-graphic depiction of blood and injuries, breakups, makeups, a cameo by one Xu Minghao, Hoseok and OC are both very closed off and bad at communicating, Hoseok is lowkey an asshole for most of this, happy-ish ending, smut warnings: making out, fingering (fem receiving), nipple play, unprotected sex, marking, teeny bit of cockwarming

a/n: Hello it is me, profusely apologising because there is no reason this should have taken this long to write, other than I had the worst case of writer's block ever, but I missed Hoseok and I needed to see this through. This fic is set in the same universe as Doom Boy, my Namjoon mafia fic! You don't necessarily have to read Doom Boy to read this, but it may help some of the moments mentioned here make sense! The title is a reference to a famous saying by King Louis XV of France, or if you're me, season 1 episode 11 of The Originals. I hope you all enjoy <3

listen to the playlist here!

The rain slams down on the pavement, rendering the soles of Hoseok’s shoes even more sodden than they’d previously been. A cold, sticky feeling settles across his spine, and he heaves for breath, wishing he could just stop and take a break. But he can’t. He has to keep moving. Resisting the urge to shiver and warm himself up, he rounds the corner.

The day had started off normal enough. Hoseok had been assigned patrol duty for the day by Namjoon, a task he was more than familiar with. After the collapse of the Kim empire and his father’s death, Namjoon had returned to clean up the family business. And he was doing a damn good job at it, training the younger ones like Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook in how to run a business.

But there was more to this than a business, and Namjoon knew that well enough. Someone had to be around to air out the dirty laundry, to clean up the streets. And who better for the job than Hoseok?

He was used to it anyway, more comfortable around knives and guns than he’d ever been around people who weren’t Namjoon, Yoongi, or Seokjin. It was partly the reason he’d been sent out tonight, to monitor the slimy activities that took place under the cover of night.

Yet sometimes, the downpour got the best of Hoseok. He hadn’t been expecting the Choi cronies to spot him, much less for them to be armed. Luckily they were as thick-skulled as Hoseok expected them to be, and he’d been able to craft a quick escape. For the time being.

But it wouldn’t last for long. Hoseok knew the men would be on his tail all night, and as much as he wanted to call for backup, he didn’t feel like bothering Namjoon, Yoongi, or their families, at this time of night. He wouldn’t have had a problem bothering Seokjin, but that fucker had run the moment he’d shot up Namjoon’s father.

Looking around, he falters. The buildings around him loom ominously, stretching much taller than he’s used to, the lights from the highest floors creating artificial stars against the cloudy backdrop of the sky. Hoseok gathers that he must be in the swanky part of town. He scoffs, knowing from personal experience the rich were no better than the mobs and gangs they pretended to look down upon, licking at their bootstraps whenever the necessity arose.

Still, he decides it’s better to take cover. He spots the sleeping security guard from outside one of the buildings, and slips in, shaking the raindrops from his hair. Making his way to the elevators at the end of the lobby, his mind ran with plans of how he’d clean up the mess with the Choi men in a way that Namjoon would approve of.

Which is why he misses the other person entering the elevator at the same time as him, instead collapsing against the railing and letting out a loud sigh, rubbing at his eyes.

“H-Hoseok?” the voice that calls out to him is quiet, barely above a whisper. But its familiarity sends a chill down Hoseok’s spine. It’s a voice he thought he’d never hear again.

His eyes open slowly, and he sees his shocked reflection mirrored in the ones directly across from him, eyes that he’d never been able to forget. The way they look at him now is the same way they’d been the last time he saw you, on a similarly cloudy day.

The eyes of his former fiancée.

The doors of the elevator screech shut, the sound doing nothing to drown out the pounding of your heart. The soft tiny plops of raindrops echo on the grey floor, falling from Hoseok’s hair as he freezes at the sound of your voice.

You suck in a breath, lungs desperately searching for air, unable to squeak out anything beyond his name. Brows furrowing, you check him for any signs of injury, relieved when you find nothing but his blank eyes blinking back at you. You didn’t have to ask him where he’d been tonight. Both of you already knew.

It infuriates you that even after everything, after all this time, he still manages to have this effect on you. You hate how you can’t take your eyes off the lean curve of his neck, or the tiny mole above his heart-shaped smile.

A chill runs down your spine, despite having never stepped foot out in the rain.

“Why are you…” your throat feels heavy, struggling to get the words out, to ask him why he ended up here of all places. Especially when you made it clear you never wanted to see him again after the last time.

“Choi’s men were tailing me, I had to get them off my back,” he barks, immediately regretting his harsh tone when he looks into your weary eyes, on the verge of tears.

“I’m sorry,” he adds on, more gently this time. “If I’d have known, I would never…”

Never what? Never managed to infiltrate the one place you thought you could be free of him, from the past the two of you shared?

Your shoulders slump against the panel, and you realize you’d never pressed the button to go up, too consumed by his presence. Finally managing to muster up the focus, you turn away, hearing the elevator creak to life.

“You’re always sorry. How can I be sure that this time, you mean it?”

Hoseok is annoyed. First of all, this damn elevator is taking nearly too long to go anywhere, and he longs for escape from this metallic box that’s imprisoning you both. Second of all, your words cut at him, sharper than any knife and hotter than any bullet any of Choi’s men could have sent his way tonight.

As far as he remembers, you’d been the one to end it. You’d been the one to walk away from your arrangement.

He doesn’t know why he grits his teeth, biting down to combat the throbbing pain in his temples. You were supposed to be gone, your goodbye delivered in the same way the designer bags and packages piled up at your doorstep - neat, polished, shallow, the ties that had brought you together unraveling before they’d even had a chance to be joined properly.

Unfinished business. That’s what you were. And Hoseok hated unfinished business. But somehow, he’d never managed to hate you. You’d never given him a fair chance.

. . .

Hoseok shrugged the wife beater over his head with a grunt, immediately turning around to see if he’d woken up his sleeping companion, but she remained unfazed, her soft snores echoing into the pillow.

He lets his eyes linger over her body appreciatively one last time before he slips on his leather jacket and is out the door. For a brief moment, his hand twitches, yearning to reach into his pocket and call Namjoon for old times’ sake, detailing every last detail of his lascivious romp. The thought is abandoned immediately, Hoseok’s mood souring at the thought of his former best friend. Namjoon had no trouble leaving all of them behind, so why should he even bother? Instead, he reaches into his other pocket, his frenzied emotions finally calming down when he pulls out the lighter. Ducking under an awning, he checks his surroundings for anything suspicious before affirming that the coast is clear, lighting up and taking a drag. The smoke drifts away on the nighttime breeze, and Hoseok follows, roaming the city streets.

It’s lonely at this hour, not another soul in sight, but Hoseok prefers it that way. Gone are the days when he and his friends would run through the city, stealing cars and honking horns at everyone for fun. Now, shit had hit the fan big time, and there was no room for fun anymore. With Namjoon gone, Hoseok, along with Seokjin and Yoongi, had been sucked into the tangled web of duties he’d left behind, each stepping up in their own way.

Holding a gun in his hands for the first time had been a sobering experience for Hoseok. It rattled him that if he pressed down on the trigger, so many things could change in a split second. He’d heard the higher-ups in the organization rave with glee about how much fun it was putting the city’s other families in line, Namjoon’s father at the head of them. And for a brief moment, Hoseok understood what it was that Namjoon had run away from. That didn’t mean he wasn’t still pissed off about it though.

His lips turn up in a smile when he takes in the graffiti on the building in front of him, thinking back to his younger, more rebellious self, before faltering. Someone else was there.

He wonders if you’re cold, the thin satin gown doing nothing to protect you from the chill, and he wants to laugh at the contrast between his well-worn leather jacket and the jewels dripping from your ears. They must cost a few thousands of dollars, money he’d never had in his pocket. His eyes scan around for someone, anyone – a boyfriend, or a husband maybe. But you’re alone.

Nobility has never been Hoseok’s forte - Namjoon and Seokjin had always been the womanizers, and poor Yoongi had been in love with the same woman for over ten years, but he clears his throat, prompting you to turn around, eyes widening at your company.

If he catches a glimpse of unshed tears in your eyes, he doesn’t say anything.

“Kids these days, huh? They’ll do anything to cause a little chaos,” he quips, a sinking feeling building up in his chest when you don’t respond.

“Ma’am,” he grapples with whether he should ask for your name, “do you need me to walk you home?”

“Did you read it?” your voice is quieter than he expects, yet he draws closer, wanting to hear more of it. Coming to stand beside you, he takes in the captivating features of your face, made all the more alluring by the shadows cast across them.

Following your gaze, he looks at the mural on the wall. A giant wave, Hosukai-style, crashing into a set of words. “After me, the flood,” your voice whispers, and Hoseok feels a rush of emotion at the way you say it, his mind circling back to everything that had happened in the past few years - the dark cloud that had settled over all their lives with Namjoon leaving, the city’s underbelly coming to life, crawling out of the woodwork.

“I have to go,” you interrupt him, heels clacking against the pavement, before Hoseok’s gaze turns sharply on you, the desperation in his eyes begging you not to go. Come sunrise, he’d be forced back into the same grim routine, but right now, it felt nice, standing here with you.

“Will you be okay getting home alone?” he asks, grappling for any chance to prolong the moment.

“My driver is around the corner,” you tell him. “Thank you for keeping me company, –”

“Hoseok,” he fills you in, his chest aching with the desire to ask for your own name, but you’re already gone.

. . .

Hoseok wakes up the next morning to the rattling of the blinds, the sunlight causing him to immediately shut his eyes and bite back a groan. There was only one person who’d have access to his apartment at this hour – and exploit it.

“Eomma?” he rasps, burrowing his head further into the sheets. “What are you doing here?”

“Did you forget Hoseok-ah? Hurry up and get dressed, everyone’s waiting! You have five minutes.”

Forget what? His mother’s fussing continues in the background as she leafs through his closet, no doubt trying to find him a suitable outfit amongst the many pairs of ripped denim and oversized shirts he prefers on a day-to-day basis. Hoseok wracks his brain, trying to remember what could have called for such an occasion, but comes up empty, his mother’s stern warning echoing in his ears.

As per usual, if it had anything to do with the organization, he’d do best not to ignore it.

Slipping on the stark white shirt and tie she’d chosen, the fabric itches against his skin, and he rakes his fingers through his hair, attempting to comb the mess into something somewhat presentable. He’s sure there was little to be done about the bags under his eyes, and the faint smell of tobacco emanating from him, and hoped that whoever these important guests were, they wouldn’t catch onto his late-night activities from the previous day.

Stumbling into the hallway, Hoseok hears the faint chatter of voices, his father’s bellowing laugh a stark contrast to his mother’s delicate titter, and is immediately confused. Conversations with the bosses of the organization weren’t usually so… enthusiastic.

When he rounds the corner to his living room, he stops in his tracks. Sitting next to his mother and father is another older couple he doesn’t recognize. They reek of wealth that his family could never even imagine, he notes, the polished Italian leather of the man’s shoes and the older woman’s massive diamond ring speaking for themselves. But he could honestly care less. Because to their left side, sitting on his favorite armchair, is you. The woman from in front of the mural. You’re clad in a simple sundress today, but you still manage to be nothing short of breathtaking against the backdrop of the sun’s rays.

“There you are, Hoseok!” his father beckons him over jovially, but Hoseok remains frozen. “This is Mr. and Mrs. ____, and their daughter ____.”

Hoseok’s turns his gaze to his father, watching him recoil at the sharpness present in his son’s expression, a thousand unspoken questions lingering on his lips as to why these people were here, what purpose they had in his home, his space.

“We’d like for the two of you to get to know each other,” your mother speaks up with a smile so wide, he’d assume it’d been plastered onto her face.

“Why?” he finally manages to whistle out in between grit teeth, looking only at you. But you don’t meet his eyes. Instead, your gaze is looking out his window, at the city beyond, the same loneliness from last night ever present in your eyes.

“Because,” his father continues uncertainly, fidgeting the glass of wine in his hands, “___ is going to be your wife.”

You can feel Hoseok’s eyes glaring into the back of your head as he follows you wordlessly down the hallway. Moments pass before you come to a stop outside your apartment, and you hear the faint stumble of Hoseok’s boots as he stops unexpectedly in his tracks. His warm breath fans against the back of your neck for a brief moment before he straightens with a grunt, and you resist the urge to shiver, despite having never stepped foot into the rain.

The lock clicks, and he follows you inside. You can hear him rustle behind you as he struggles to remove his coat and boots, but you look straight ahead, hoping the darkness can hide how your fingernails are digging into your palm.

“I won’t stay long,” his low voice breaks the silence. “Just until the storm passes.”

“Please,” you manage to muster up your most polite sounding voice. “Have a seat. I can get you something, maybe some water, o-or a cup of tea…”

You want to curse your voice for wobbling in his presence, hating the way he still affected you even after all this time apart. Your brain bades you to walk away instinctively, and so you pad into the kitchen, wanting to put distance in between you and Hoseok so he can’t hear the rapid fluttering of your heart. The noise pounds in your ears as you rattle around in the cupboards, cursing when you realized you’d forgotten to turn on the light. It seemed embarrassing to do it now, and so you reach aimlessly, looking for some coffee.

The pot bubbles, and in mere moments, you’re clutching two steaming mugs, finding your way back onto the living room. Hoseok has settled himself onto your couch, taking extra care not to rest his soaked shirt against the back of it, instead hunched over and dangling an unlit cigarette from his fingertips.

“Sorry, I didn’t know if you’d be okay with me…” he gestures to it, twirling it around in his fingers. “I know you don’t like the smell.”

You’re unsure whether to be touched that he remembers, or uneasy at the way he says it so monotonously, as if you’d still judge him for something so mundane when so much else had happened in between you.

“Here,” you set down the coffee in front of him, taking the seat directly opposite. “It’ll help take the edge off.”

The warm liquid burns your throat as you rush to take a sip, and you nearly sputter trying to keep it down. Over the rim of your cup, Hoseok remains frozen, his own mug steaming and untouched. His dark eyes bore into you, studying your face, and you feel your cheeks begin to burn.

If he notices the bags under your eyes, he says nothing. The same way he says nothing when he probably remarks at your simplistic clothes and lack of jewelry, a far cry from the expensive dresses and diamonds he’d been used to seeing you in.

“Were you about to go out?” Hoseok asks, and the question catches you off guard. “I’m sorry if I stopped you from going somewhere.”

“Or meeting someone.” The last part is a hushed whisper, mumbled underneath his breath, in the hopes that you wouldn’t catch him. But you had. You wish he’d stop apologizing. It makes you feel guilty when you shouldn’t be, like he’s trying and you’re shutting him out, when in reality it’d been the exact opposite.

All of a sudden, your phone buzzes to life, a text message lighting up the screen. You freeze when you see who it’s from, quickly snatching your phone and cursing in your head. Minghao was a friend of a friend, the two of you running into each other a number of times over the past couple of weeks, before he’d finally plucked up the courage to ask you for a coffee date.

You’d told him you’d think about it, and now here he was, lighting up your phone to ask you about your decision. Of course, how was he supposed to know that the reason you’d been holding off was the very man sitting in your living room, whom you’d almost married, and still couldn’t seem to let go?

Clutching your phone to your chest, you turn it to silent, setting it down beside you. Hoseok’s eyes are alight with curiosity, his lips turned up in a faint smirk, as though he’s remembering his statement from earlier.

You take another sip, willing the caffeine to give you some strength, to rein in the bare threads of this conversation back to your control.

“How are your parents?”

Hoseok is taken aback by the question. He hadn’t expected it from you. There had once been a time where you’d been bright eyed and eager, wanting to know everything about him, bombarding him with question after question every time you were together. And yet somehow, he’d never managed to give you the time of day, always giving brusque answers and half-hearted excuses that there were other things that needed his attention.

He knew it was just a poor attempt to fill the silence, but his heart lurches at the thought that there’s so much you don’t know anymore. Namjoon coming back, Seokjin running away, the life that Hoseok knew being turned inside out. What’s more unsettling is the fact that he yearns to tell you, despite knowing he’d lost the privilege to do so.

“They’re okay. Doing well,” he lies through his teeth. “We all are. How about yours?”

He thinks it’s an innocent question, but he watches your fingers blanch as you grip the mug so tight, he thinks it’ll break.

“I wouldn’t know,” you whisper out softly, and his heart stops. “I haven’t spoken to them since– you know.”

Hoseok feels dizzy at your confession. What do you mean you hadn’t spoken to them? Suddenly, it all begins to make sense in his head. The fact that he hadn’t expected to run into you tonight, because he hadn’t expected you to live alone, with your austere clothes and hair tossed up into a messy bun. It was so different from the woman he’d known, the dazzling one he’d written off as hollow in his mind, the one he was incapable of forming a real relationship with.

And here you were, living the exact opposite of the cozy life he’d painted for you in his head. He thought you’d be fine, that you’d move on, your family offering you up to the next prospect that came along. And you’d accept them, like you’d accepted Hoseok with all his flaws, not caring that he could barely give you what you deserved.

His thoughts flash back to the last conversation you had, tears streaming down your face as you sobbed.

I can’t live like this anymore.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, and he watches annoyance flash across your face. He knows he’s done nothing but apologize this entire time, but it probably isn’t even worth a damn. No consolation would ever make up for losing someone that meant everything to you. He’d known that when Namjoon had run away.

“Hey,” you set the mug down, leaning over the table. For a brief second, he sees your hand reach out blindly in the darkness, almost as if it’s searching for his, but you withdraw just as quickly. “I’m okay. I really am.”

“I wish you’d stop pretending,” Hoseok blurts out, and he watches you jolt in surprise. “Why do you always have to pretend like everything’s okay, like nothing affects you? Is it the society training? Or do you really just not care about what happened at all?”

You chew the inside of your cheek, mulling over Hoseok’s words in your head.

“The same way you can pull the trigger on someone and be able to lie in your bed and fall asleep,” you seethe, a venom that Hoseok has never heard in your voice.

“I knew who you were Hoseok. I knew what kind of man I was marrying. You think it didn’t affect me? You think I wasn’t scared out of my wits because of what you did, what other people could do to you?”

You rise up, palms quivering as you open and close them, strolling over to the window. Hoseok watches your shoulders shake before they slump completely, and he knows that you’re crying.

He’s up before he can stop himself, feet ready to walk out the door. He’d fucked up the moment he’d stayed in the elevator with you, all the ugly feelings between you coming to a head, ones he’d struggled so hard to keep buried.

But his body betrays him, instead leading him right behind. He pauses until he’s just close enough that if he reaches out, he’d be able to grab your arm and turn you around to face him. But he waits instead.

“I did what I did because I realized I was chasing a ghost,” you huff out, resignation in your tone. “I wanted you to be someone you weren’t. I wanted you to care so badly. But you didn’t. I don’t want any part in whatever you’re caught up in, Hoseok. Whatever has a hold on you so badly that you couldn’t even look beyond your cynicism to give me a chance.”

“I just want to survive.”

Hoseok grips the bathroom sink, knuckles turning white. His cell phone clatters on the counter beside him and he has to keep from heaving. This whole thing was a mess – no one had counted on Namjoon coming back. Even less so on him refusing to take up his father’s mantle. And so the threats continued – the words from the anonymous phone call still ringing in his ear, your name echoing across the line.

While he didn’t know what he felt for you, or whether he could even marry you, Hoseok knew you were an innocent person. You didn’t deserve to be the victim of your parents’ greed, them using you to bury their secrets in the hands of even more powerful people. You deserved gardens full of flowers and meals together every night, not coming home to an empty bed. Or a fiancé who couldn’t spare a moment during the entire night to even dance with you.

He’s so lost in his brooding that he doesn’t hear the door the click behind him, the soft tapping of heels on the floor coming up behind him.

“Is something wrong?” you ask him gently, and he feels the bristle of your hand on his jacket.

So much was wrong. You couldn’t even begin to understand.

“It’s fine,” he clears his throat, straightening up to adjust his jacket. “I’ll need to leave soon. I can have the car stay behind for you.”

The farther away he got from you, the better. That way no one could hurt you – or him.

“I can go with you,” your voice echoes from beside him, “I was getting tired anyway.”

Hoseok turns to face you, watching you recoil at the red rimming his eyes, the bags underneath them becoming even more prominent in the dim lighting of the bathroom.

He doesn’t know what possesses him to reach for the single strand of hair that has managed to escape your polished bun, but he watches you suck in a breath, lips parting in surprise.

Before he knows it, your face is drawing in closer, and he can smell the rosé on your breath. Your lips barely ghost against his, and he has to fight every nerve ending not to grab your hand and run away from here, somewhere where he wasn’t Hoseok, and you weren’t ____, and you didn’t need protecting from everything around you – most of all him.

His paralysis slowly melts away and he’s pushing you away without realizing, the door to the bathroom suddenly materialising in front of him.

“Like I said,” he doesn’t bother turning around, knowing his heart would twist at whatever expression he found on your face. “I’ll have the car stay behind for you.”

Before you can wrestle with the weight of your confession to Hoseok, a hand is clamping over your mouth. Caught in a silent scream, you turn your eyes to see Hoseok lifting a finger to his lips, willing you to stay quiet. And that’s when you hear them. The voices.

Raucous laughter echoes through the hallway, tinged with malevolent glee. The air around you feels cold, a breeze at the base of your spine, and you instinctively curl into Hoseok.

“Come out, come out,” the disembodied voice cackles from the hallway. “Are you hiding from us, Jung? Found some poor rich girl to use as a body shield?”

Your hand seizes Hoseok’s wrist clamped against your mouth, nails digging into his arm, the fear taking over. Slowly, his wrist lowers, slipping to take your hand in his, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

“I won’t let anything happen to you. Do you trust me?”

He’s so quiet you almost can’t tell he’s said it at all. You nod reluctantly, eyes continuing to dart to the door.

“Go hide underneath the bed. Lock the door. I may or may not come back but please stay inside. Don’t come looking for me.”

His voice is clipped, the faint hint of nerves colouring his tone, but his eyes are filled with a resoluteness you know all too well. You’d spent the better part of over a year staring into them, hoping they’d look back. And now they finally were.

“Be safe.” Your voice comes out louder than you’d intended, but there’s no anger in Hoseok’s expression. All he does is nod, and then you turn, stumbling down the hallway to your room, never bothering to look back until you hear the door click behind you.

. . .

Hoseok’s heart pounds in his chest, a strange pain settling in his ribs – he never expected to be in this position again. His sense of duty had always been his biggest downfall – and while you were no longer his, he owed it to you to make sure he gave you exactly what you’d asked him for – the chance to survive, to come out on the other side of this. That’s why he had to settle this once and for all.

Choi’s cronies linger at the other end of the hallway, too dumb to notice Hoseok slipping out of your door, reaching for the revolver he’d kept hidden in his coat pocket. A chill settles in his bones as he runs his fingers over the metal.

The brief events of the night play over in his head – the rain pounding against the pavement, the ding of the elevator, the now-cold mug of coffee that sat on your coffee table. And then there was you – your eyes, the softness of your skin, the faint smell of gardenias that lingered on your skin.

And it hits Hoseok that while he was very much alive – he’d been in mourning. Mourning for the friendships he’d never be able to recover, for the youth that had been taken away from him. But most of all, Hoseok’s heart mourns for the relationship he’d never gotten to have with you. The glass walls he’d so carefully put up around himself shatter, making way for a torrential deluge.

After me, the flood.

He remembers the first night you’d met, how he’d been drawn to you without even trying, the portrait of the wave. He remembers the months that passed afterwards, where you drew closer to him and he drew back. He remembers the regret he’d buried deep in his heart for not kissing you back the night of the gala, not knowing he’d never get another chance.

But most of all, he remembers the somber expression on your face the day you’d ended things, pressing the engagement ring back into his hands, the very same ring that was still sitting in the first drawer of his nightstand.

Choi’s men finally perk up, noticing Hoseok’s solitary figure lingering at the end of the hallway, smirks twisting on their grotesque faces. A shot rings out, and Hoseok thinks of you now, hiding under your bed. And then he charges.

The alleyway was grim at this time of day, the sunlight barely able to reach beyond the towering skyscrapers, the clouds casting everything in grey. Rain fell softly from the sky. You clutch your coat tighter around you, unable to stop looking at the mural of the wave.

So much had changed since you’d first seen it. And yet it was still the same.

You know Hoseok from the thud of his boots against the pavement, coming up beside you. His head turns, an eyebrow raised in your direction, wondering why you’d asked to meet him here of all places.

You avoid his eyes, fingers clasping around the blue velvet in your pocket. His eyes widen with surprise when he sees the box, confusion marring his handsome face.

A knot forms in your chest when you watch the confusion turn into alarm as you press the box into his hand, the dazzling diamond no longer on your left finger.

“I don’t understand,” he grunts, breath visible in the cold air.

“We can’t do this anymore, Hoseok. I can’t do this. I can’t live like this.”

“Was it something that I did?” he questions you, desperation creeping into his voice.

You scoff, watching him flinch, pain on his face.

“No, it’s the opposite. It’s what you haven’t ever been able to do. It’s been an entire year, Hoseok. I’ve watched you answer every phone call that comes your way, disappear into the night to do god knows what, run whenever your friends call. And in that entire time, have you ever thought about us? About the future?”

You take a deep breath.

“I know that neither of us chose this, but Hoseok, we were engaged. Did that mean anything to you?”

He squares his shoulders, fists clenching at his sides, a tick in his jaw.

“You don’t understand. I-I’m not good for you, ___. I dont think I’ll ever be. There’s too much that’s happened, too much I’ve lost. But please don’t walk away like this.

“I thought it’d be enough,” you whisper, and Hoseok freezes. You didn’t know he’d heard you.

“I thought me loving you would be enough for the both of us. But it’s not. I need more. I need someone who I know will come home to me every night. But what I need even more than that, is for you to let me walk away so I can breathe again. So I can be myself.”

Your eyes are just as sad as the first time Hoseok saw them, and all of a sudden, you remark at how stagnant the two of you had been together.

“Hoseok please, I know I can’t ask you to do it if you love me, but if you’ve ever cared about me, even the tiniest bit, let me go.”

You watch him open the box, gazing at the ring. Moments pass by before he slips it into his own pocket, his eyes flitting to the wave as he gives you a small smile, the most genuine one you’d ever seen.

“Goodbye, ____.

Hoseok’s fist rattles against the door, before he slumps over, heaving for breath. The pain in his side licks at him like the flames of a fire. He hisses when he presses a hand to it, eyes widening when it comes away covered in blood. Those fuckers had managed to get him. Shit.

His eyes are about to close when the door springs open, the wide eyes of Kim Namjoon taking in his battered figure.

“Hobi, what the fuck?” Namjoon seethes, offering him an arm and pulling him inside. Slinging an arm around Hoseok’s shoulder, the two of them hobble to Namjoon’s kitchen, the burning in Hoseok chest causing him to let out a loud groan.

“Hyun is sleeping,” Namjoon chastises him, and Hoseok bites his tongue, remembering that this Namjoon was dealing with a pregnant wife and a toddler. “You gonna tell me what the hell happened, or do I have to force it out of you?”

“I made a mistake, Namjoon. I went somewhere I shouldn’t have tonight. I fucked up, but I-I didn’t mean to I swear…”

Hoseok feels himself shake as the words pour out, the ruined mission the furthest thing from his mind. He tells Namjoon everything – from being tailed to running into to you, to how he’d left, not knowing whether you were okay or not.

“That was a dick move,” Namjoon huffs.

“Excuse me?” Hoseok looks up at his best friend, who looks more pissed off than he’s ever seen him.

“I said what I said. That was a dick move, just leaving her like that.”

“I don’t need a lecture on running away from you, Namjoon-ah.”

Namjoon wipes away the blood on his side, and Hoseok bites his tongue at the sting of the alcohol, before slumping into the chair next to him.

“You’re an idiot, Jung Hoseok. You’ve been so afraid of letting yourself feel things for so long, and I know it’s because you think that everyone around you is going to leave, or that you’ll lose them. But I’m telling you right now, that’s the stupidest thing you could ever do.”

“You have to let yourself just be, Hobi. Just let go. Enjoy things - life, your friends, your family. Be open to the possibility of love. It’s the only thing that can keep the darkness away.”

Namjoon’s voice shrinks when he says the last line, and Hoseok knows his friend is far off in his own mind, battling the demons that plague him.

“I think I’m too far gone for that, Namjoon,” Hoseok tells him. “Maybe some of us weren’t meant for happiness. Maybe some of us needed to make sacrifices so others could live the lives they wanted to.”

“That’s a damn lie if I’ve ever heard one, Hoseok.” Namjoon striaghtens, rising up from the chair. “I know you’ve been angry at me for leaving, for keeping you all in the dark. I know how much it hurts to not be able to share your happiest moments with people you love. And I’m sorry for that. But you have a chance to change things.”

“Listen Hobi,” Namjoon crouches down to his level. “I want to be the best man at your wedding – I want to be there for you in all the ways you didn’t get to do for me. This is my way of making amends, but you need to fix whatever this is between you two.”

“What makes you think she’ll even take me back? I was awful to her… god, she didn’t deserve that Joon. She deserves so much better.”

“Do you love her?” Namjoon asks him, and Hoseok is shocked when he doesn’t even have to pause to think about it. He wants to start over, to be by your side, to have a chance to love you properly this time around.

“Second chances come when you least expect them, Hobi. Think about what would have happened if you hadn’t stepped out into the rain last night. And don’t let it happen again.”

The knock at the door startles you, your phone clattering to the floor. Swearing under your breath, you pick it up, perusing the message from Minghao once again. He was nothing if not persistent. And Hoseok was never coming back. You’d convinced yourself of that.

It’d been over a week since he’d left you that night - the promise to keep you safe burrowing its way into your heart. And then radio silence. You’d heard the gunshots in the hallway, but when you’d opened the door, no one was there, the only evidence of the showdown being the faint splatters of blood on the wall. When the police had questioned you, you’d left Hoseok’s name out of it – those words echoing in your mind, instilling a false sense of loyalty in you.

Why did you think things would be different this time around? It’d been foolish to assume that Hoseok thought anything more of you. But you couldn’t forget the look in his eyes, the gentle touches, the way he’d promise he would never let anything happen to you, and you fell for him all over again.

Throwing your phone aside, you grumble as you make your way to the door, making a mental note to respond to Minghao later, agreeing to the date.

Swinging it open, you freeze when you see who’s on the other end. Hoseok, looking worse for wear with bruises on his jaw and a nasty cut on his forehead, nervously twirling a tiny bouquet of flowers in his hand.

You’re dumbfounded - unable to speak as you take him in, his dark, inquisitive eyes gazing into your shocked ones.

“You better let me in, ____,” he says with a grin. “Or the neighbours are gonna think I did something really bad this time.”

Wordlessly, you open the door to allow him to enter, watching as he slips off his coat and shoes, an exact repeat of a week ago. You watch him, trying to open your mouth and say something, ask him anything, but nothing will come out.

“These are for you,” Hoseok nearly shoves the bouquet in your hands and you watch him rub at the back of his neck, his ears reddening.

“Are you okay Hoseok?” you finally manage to ask him, setting the flowers on your coffee table. Your concern wins out over your confusion once again, but the whole scene is odd – him, smiling in your apartment, the late afternoon sunlight casting half his angular face in a mysterious shadow.

“Just a little nick to my side,” he lifts his shirt up, your eyes widening at the bandages on his abdomen. “But actually, I’m not okay. I haven’t been okay since the day I let you walk away, and I can’t live with it anymore.”

You take a step back, unable to breathe. The space in between you seems to have lessened considerably, and you can make out every delicate detail of his face. Dizzy, you put some distance in between the two of you.

“Everything hurts, ___. It hurts because I look at you and I feel like I can’t breathe anymore, knowing how much pain I put you through. It hurts knowing that you’re so kind, so understanding of someone like me, when I don’t deserve it at all. And what hurts the most is knowing that I love you, and I’ve been lying to myself this entire time because I’m afraid you’ll leave just like everyone else, but I lost you anyway.”

Hoseok’s voice cracks on the last words, and you watch him sway, gripping onto your counter for support.

“I thought it was just me this entire time,” you finally manage to look him in the eyes, tears spilling out of your own. “I thought I was crazy, because ever since you walked out that door a week ago, all I’ve been doing is waiting for you to come back.”

“I’m here,” Hoseok closes the gap between you, arms wrapping around you. You breathe in the faint scent of tobacco on his leather jacket, mixed with the spice of his cologne. “And I’m not leaving. Not this time.”

You grip his lapels, before your arms come up to wrap around his neck, running your fingers through the soft hair at his nape.

“What if it’s not different this time around?” you whisper into his neck. “What if nothing changes?”

“What if it is?” his low voice rumbles into your hair. “Can you trust me, ___? One more time?”

You take his hand in yours, bringing it to your chest, his lips parting in awe at the fluttering of your heartbeat.

“Only you can do that to me,” you say softly, a smile gracing your lips.

Before you know it, Hoseok’s lips are crashing against yours, and you can feel him release a euphoric sigh, groaning into your mouth. It’s slow, tentative in the way he waits for your body to respond, never pushing more than you’re comfortable with. Eventually, even the small bit of distance in between you becomes too much to bear. You card your fingers into his hair, pulling slightly at the strands, warmth blossoming in your chest.

It feels too short when he pulls away all too soon, lips tinged with red and eyes dark with something that sends a shiver down your spine.

“I’ve wanted to do that ever since the night of the gala,” he rasps, warmth blooming in your chest at his confession. “You were—, I mean you still are, breathtaking.”

You can feel the rapid beat of his heart, his pulse point right there below your fingertips, and you reach for his hand, watching his entire body soften at your touch.

“Come with me,” you ask him, eyes turning down the hallway to your bedroom. “We have a lot of lost time to make up for.

Hoseok tries to ignore the rapid rushing of blood in his ears, his focus narrowing to your head resting on his shoulder, the two of you looking out at the city together for the last little while from your bed. It’s somewhere he never imagined he’d be, but he’d felt the ice around his heart melt the moment he’d finally kissed you for real, warmth filling his veins.

And despite relishing in your presence, it was spiking to a fever pitch. He’d tasted you, and now he couldn’t get enough. All it takes is a brief moment for you to look in his eyes, and he’s pulling you into him once again, mouth hard on yours, unable to resist the desire for more, more, more.

You whine into his mouth, hands fisting at the edge of his shirt, struggling to pull it over his head. He uses one hand to pin both arms behind you, reaching over with the other to hike your dress up to your stomach, finally peeling it off, and you lie back, eyes alight with desire as you take him in.

He kisses you again, his lean body hovering over yours, hands roaming everywhere – your arms, up your neck, and on your thighs. He inches higher and higher, fingers ghosting over your core.

“Hoseok please,” you whimper, digging your nails into his shoulder blades. “I can’t wait anymore.”

You part your thighs for him, and he wastes no time, pulling your soaked underwear to the side and dipping his fingers into your arousal. He presses another hard kiss to your lips, catching your moans in his mouth while he works you open, leaving you trembling underneath him.

You whine when his fingers leave you, clenching around nothing, coming up to cup your exposed breasts in both hands while he licks and sucks at your nipples.

“Fuck,” he groans against your chest. “How are you so perfect? How are you even mine?”

His voice breaks, and you mouth at his jaw, mirroring his actions until purple bruises begin to bloom in the spots where your lips previously were.

“I’m yours,” you nip at his bottom lip. “Whether you like it or not.”

“Believe me,” he smirks. “I like it. I like it a lot actually. Let me show you how much.”

With adept skill, he manages to remove your panties in seconds, throwing them to the wall. The clinking sound of his belt drives you mad, and your hands join his, the two of you awkwardly fumbling to remove it.

You feel your mouth go dry when his cock springs free, and he chuckles at the depraved look in your eyes.

“Some other time, love,” he whispers, voice lowering a few octaves. “Right now, I need to feel you.”

You gasp when he pushes in, and he pauses, wondering if it’s too much, but you nod, letting him know it’s okay. He thrusts shallowly, before pushing in all the way, watching you squirm underneath him while rutting your hips.

“Move, please,” you beg him, and he obliges, hiking one leg up over his shoulder to open you up for him, the wet sounds of your pussy accompanying the fluid snap of his hips. His knuckles grip the headboard, turning white while he pins you underneath him, unable to take his eyes off the way your tits bounce with every thrust. His hands grip at your ass, every jerk of his hips an excuse to hold you tighter, until he can see your skin redden underneath his fingers.

“Oh my god, Hoseok, I can’t–, it’s too much,” you groan, rocking against him in an attempt to quell the sparks underneath your skin, lighting you up like a livewire.

“Come for me,” he grunts, trapping your clit in between his fingers, rubbing tight circles until you snap, seeking his lips once again, your orgasm flooding your entire body like a wave. Hoseok speeds up his thrusts to join you, roaring when he feels himself explode, before slumping against you, chest heaving with the weight of his breaths.

Moments pass like this, him remaining inside you while he burrows into the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning your damp skin. Eventually he pulls out of you with a soft whine, brushing away the sweat-soaked strands of hair at your temple, before rising.

You trap his wrist in your hand, panic settling in. He watches your expression change and immediately stiffens, cradling you against his chest.

“That expression you always talk about, the flood. I-, I looked it up. And I know the life I have isn’t ideal, and maybe things will only get harder, but I promise I will do everything in my power to keep you safe. I don’t want to live out the rest of my life not caring anymore.”

“Do you know what I was thinking of that night, looking at the wave?” you mumble in his ear, and he gazes at you inquisitively, watching the way your skin glows under the moonlight as you take a breath.

“My whole life, people have forced me into this box, this image, of someone they want me to be – the perfect daughter, the perfect wife. It’s been suffocating. All I wanted that night was a taste of freedom - that feeling of happiness you have on a beach, feeling the waves crash at your feet. And then I saw you.”

Hoseok leaves a kiss in your hair, his fingers intertwining with yours. Briefly, his heart drops at the absence of the ring he’d given you on your finger, but he knows when you’re ready, it’ll be waiting for you. He’ll be waiting for you. And the two of you will step into the flood, together.

a/n pt. 2: Okay long ending note here. First, please visualize this Hoseok with the undercut ;) Second, I don't normally say this but the writer's block really got me good with this one, so I apologize if it's not up to my usual standards (pls be kind tho). And third and last, this fic definitely would never exist if it weren't for the wonderful Guarded series by Ana (@xjoonchildx). I think about it more than is necessary and this is definitely my tribute to the impeccable Captain Jung.

As always, any comments or feedback are much appreciated, but I appreciate you all anyway. Lots of love, Isi <3

taglist (pls let me know if you want to be removed): @jalexad @secfir @hobi-love @back2bluesidex @temptingempress

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soraviie · 1 year

Text

chasing after you.txt

━ type: bts x f! reader ━ navigation

━ about: dynamics in order: Joon - one-night stand + enemies to lovers, Yoongi - neighbours with a bit of a bad boy influence, Jin - sort of arranged marriage au, Hoseok - exes to lovers, Jimin - sugar daddy/fake dating au, Taehyung - tease x anger issues/clingy + tsundere/f2l, Jungkook - bodyguard x ward

━ pictures taken from Pinterest

━ previously posted on soraviii

NAMJOON: "Aw, fuck, who invited that guy?" you growled, whilst rolling your eyes at the corner where Namjoon had been so precariously sat like an asshole. You hated everything about him - the smug smile, the cocky tone of his voice, the winks he threw your way. Kim Namjoon was nothing but a sure way to get your blood pressure up and stay that way all through the night.

"Probably one of his fri- Shit! He's coming this way!" as your friend dipped over the bar and away into the crowd, courageous as ever, you snatched your drink partially pondering about throwing it into his face.

"You look lonely," he cooed with that shit-eating grin that you had wanted to smack away since the first meeting. And maybe to kiss but he didn't need to know that. "Why don't I keep you company?"

"Keep company with your left hand like you usually do," you yelled over the music.

"Well it does pair well with certain memories of you," he smirked and you groaned in disgust.

A misguided February 14th evening could lead to many foul things - unexpected pregnancy, STDs, Kim Namjoon having the delusional idea that you liked him.

Frankly, you'd rather endure a yeast infection than have this 6 feet fuckboy in the disguise of a pacifistic art lover keep chasing you every night out. More than once you wanted to slap your younger self only to come to their defence over and over again.

Namjoon was big. Big man. Big muscles. Big...well you get it.

And that may have made you a little bit stupid once! But not twice.

Yes.

"I can't stand you," you sneered at him with the most contempt you could possibly muster

"Sit on my lap then, baby."

You took a long swig to finish your drink, sliding it across the bartop and walking backwards, you levelled him down with a:

"You'd only cream your jeans, caveman."

"That's possible," he reckoned with a soft smile watching you mingle with the dancing crowd.

And for a while, it all went well, you'd find someone to at least waste some time with only for them to suddenly start sprinting away for their lives. You frowned after them, coming to a screeching halt in the fun.

Did your breath smell or something?

Taken with dancing, you hadn't noticed the broad-chested giant charging forth, smoke practically fuming from his nostril as his eyes glinted devilishly when tracking down the opponent. As the music changed, you found your waist circled by a shovel-sized palm.

"You really have no luck out here. You keep on being stuck with lil' old me," he whispered in your ear, causing long trails of goosebumps where his breath landed and you elbowed him, hard, in the gut.

He didn't even seem to mind.

"I don't know who you think you are Kim Namjoon but I will never-!"

"Oh, how you hate me," he lets out a burst of raspy laughter, head thrown back on the pillow, pulling you closer as much as he can despite you both being considerably sweaty.

"S-shut up," you grunt back, thighs aching but just a little bit more and you'll be in your happy place even if it was with this obnoxious gym rat. "You're just a cock on legs to me."

"Oh, for sure," he smirks and then prompts himself upwards to bite on your neck. "But you might think of screaming a tad quieter if you want to be really convincing."

It's a sick sense of deja-vu to wake up sore and aching all over in a sun-filled room overstuffed with cacti and a very soft blanket. The bed was empty and as you clamber to the toilet wearing a shirt found on the floor, struggling to walk, you stumble upon him in the kitchen - Cheshire grin spread all over his lips.

"Good morning," Namjoon greets. "You want some eggs, babe?"

YOONGI: His eyes track your movement as though it's dazed him and it's in moments like these you wish he was a criminal or something, a certified member of a mafia. A flag touch redder.

Stay away from Min Yoongi, they said, he's trouble but what to do when he doesn't stay away from you?

"So a kitten does come out to play," he purrs pressing one of those veiny palms against the elevator doors, halting it in its tracks and climbing in. You roll your eyes and straighten your back to appear more threatening. Yoongi, of course, couldn't give less of a shit.

"You're one to speak," you counter. "The most walking you do is through your apartment. It's like a herd of elephants."

"Well then don't listen in on what I do, you little pervert," he smirks, pressing the 8 on the elevator and it jerkily moves through the floors, reminding you once again to be grateful for life.

"Give it here," without waiting for a reply, he grabs the hold of your bags and goes straight to your apartment doors. Once inside he makes himself right at home, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt.

"What are we eating?" he questions gruffly, examining the produce with no small amount of judgment.

"You're speaking French now?" you push him away, relinquishing the rightful ownership of a pair of avocados you bought. "Whose "we"?"

He doesn't bother gracing it with a comment as anyhow a doorbell rings and you see his tongue poke against the cheek.

"Who the hell are you?" he questions sharply and you peer into the doorway.

"Oh, hello," you greet your coworker with a reserved smile. "What are you doing here?"

"Yeah, what are you doing here?" Yoongi echoes, placing his hand above your head and on the very edge of the door.

"Just interested if you're going to the uh... team bonding activities," he replies, fretfully glancing at Yoongi.

"Ignore him, I do," you smirk up at Yoongi. "And-"

"She has plans," Yoongi interrupts, pushing you back into the kitchen with his palm against your back.

"Oh, okay," your coworker stutters awkwardly, trying to lean in somehow. "See you around?"

"No," Yoongi cheerfully replies and smacks the door right into his face.

"You're such a dick," you groan.

"Did you have plans?" he asks with a teasing lilt, voice dropping nearly an octave lower. "And are you going to lie that it wasn't with me?"

"My jumbo-sized Charmander plushie and I are doing well on our own," you point at him with a packet of tomatoes. "Where you fit into the equation is a mystery."

"I'll tell you where I can fit," he laughed, wagging his eyebrows.

"No, no, goodbye," you wrinkle your nose in disgust, pushing his still laughing back out of the door. "Leave."

"Wait, what if I need some sugar?" he objects and you furrow your eyebrows, glaring up at him in suspicion.

"Do you?"

"No," he shrugs carelessly. "But what if."

"Begone, demon," you push against him harder but he seems to only enjoy it.

"Come to my game. It's right across the street in that park. I need a good luck charm."

"Will you be throwing a ball in your face? If no, then I'm not interested."

As you slam the door shut there still comes a raspy whine.

"Come on, short ass, come."

And if you do happen to drop by the nearest park with its shitty basketball court it's because you have nothing better to do and you needed some ice cream. Yoongi, uncharacteristically brazen for him, smirks at then winks in the middle of the game.

And promptly receives a ball to the face.

JIN: "Eat more garlic!"

"Straighten your hair with an iron!"

"Belch really, really loudly!"

You try to recall all of your friends' sage advice whilst pacifying your nerves. Being late nearly an hour didn't sit well with you but this guy was...determined. Insanely determined. So the ends justify the means.

When at last you arrive at the three Michelin star restaurant it's an hour later than what your family had set and you're wearing sweatpants and a t-shirt. Your face may burn with shame at such a display but certainly, this would beat this broad-shouldered man off the path. This was beyond and above rude. You're already prepared to be yelled at, scorned and insulted but Seokjin merely blooms into an eager smile. Doesn't even blink twice at your choice of wear.

He dismisses the host with a polite nod and pulls a chair out.

"Hello, _________," he greets innocently. "Traffic is hell, right."

There was no traffic and he knew it only making excuses to achieve whatever nefarious goal he had set out to.

"Just give him a chance," your mother pleaded over the phone. "He's been asking about you forever. Please, he's rich and handsome, what's not to like."

What's not to like? Well, probably something. Kim Seokjin in your mind had always stood as that annoying guy who'd dropped a water bomb on your head when you were about to take the most glorious profile picture ever. Spinning in overlapping social circles, you'd seen too much of him growing up and had to endure several of your friends flailing over him especially when the pool season began. He was like a jar of honey to their fly status. And as such only a tar in your own pot of sweetness.

He was old. You had not exactly a criminal age difference but still more than 2 years. He was a creep, you firmly plant that idea into the recesses of your mind.

Why oh why, was he so insistent on asking about you?

"Good idea," he praises, pointing at your outfit. "It's best to be comfortable. I should have done that as well, this is quite uncomfortable," he waves a disappointed hand over the blue three-piece suit.

The waiter along with the menu serves you a freshly plucked side eye.

"Yeah, that's why I did it," dryly you mutter back, hiding behind the menu.

Think, think, think, what else turns off snooty men?

"Fucking shit," you cry out to your own amazement. "These prices are ridiculous. I'm not paying for this!"

"That's fine," Jin shrugs with that seemingly permanently etched expression of a tender smile. "I invited you here, I'll pay."

You groan.

"I'll fart," you threaten.

He shrugs and gracefully pours you a glass of wine.

"Everyone does that. It's a part of life."

You slobber your dinner up like a beast.

"Hmm, you're making the meal look more delicious," he nods.

And not even when you "accidentally" spill a mango sauce on his pants worth more than your apartment, does he weigh the thought of becoming angry in his mind.

"Ah, it's a perfect colour now," he merely congratulates with a jubilant cry and you let your head fall on the table with a thud, only it hits his palm as he had stretched it out at the last second.

"Are you insane?" you breathe out in sheer desperation. "Why are you not running over the hills?"

"Do you really think I can't see that you're doing this on purpose?" he smirks in amusement, over the rim of the wine glass. "We've known each other for a while, I know you better than that."

"Exactly!" you yell before falling into a hush as numerous daggers shoot your way. "You know me! As the annoying friend of your cousin! Why are you asking after me all of a sudden?! What joke are you playing?"

"Well, first of all," Jin corrects all too self-congratulatory. "I've never thought you were annoying. Maybe except when you were like 14 but who isn't the worst person in the world at that age? And secondly," his ears abruptly turn quite pink and he lets the wine glass rest on the table, nervously fiddling with its stem. "I asked for you because as you may know your mother is quite eagerly seeking various wedlock opportunities. For you specifically."

That makes you groan only louder.

"Don't remind me. So, so what? You want to get married to me?" you snort at the idea but then, for the first time ever, Jin is not laughing.

"Yes," he says dead serious.

"Wait, is this a prank?" you glance all around in an attempt to find the hidden cameras. "Are you pulling my leg?"

"I'm pulling no legs. What a weird thing to do," Jin muses and you narrow him down.

"Don't joke. It's not funny. Say "got you" or something. You can't be serious?!"

"Listen, ___________, I've liked you for a while now. I wanted to ask you before you began university but then you brought Jae home and..."

"Jae? Jin, that was...that was five years ago! You couldn't have liked me for five years?"

He averts his eyes and sips on his champagne. Even his neck is red.

"Five years?" you cry out. "And you kept quiet?!"

"Well, I told you now!" he objects with some indignation but even more of a burning shame. "All you need to do is to decide what you're going to do. 'Cause I'll accept you as you are, belching, sweatpant wearing and all. Even if you straighten your hair with an iron."

For a second you sit still and stupefied on this ridiculously over-padded chair ad then you feel yourself match the heat blooming on his face.

"You know Giulia?" you ask, downing the entire wine while desperately trying not to smile at the soft amusement in his eyes.

"Of course, I know Giulia," Jin chuckles self-consciously. "Who do you think gave me the genius advice of this stuffy suit?"

HOSEOK: You should have known from the start that this would lead to nothing good. What else could wait for you at the end of the nondescript hallways of conference rooms? One thing you didn't expect however was the loathsome face of your ex-boyfriend. Hoseok was sitting already by the table, beautiful as ever, leg nervously bouncing against the floor and treacherously a click of a lock snapping in its place echoes behind you.

He springs up from the seat, nervously glancing at where you tried to somehow break through the door. Or the wall, whichever came first.

"Oh, hell no," you growled, nails scraping against the doorknob. The betraying Brutus of a friend he had bribed to text you to come here will find an egg on their window for sure.

"_____________, please, let's just talk," he pleads. "Just let...let me explain."

"I don't want to hear any explanation," you hissed, turning to glare at him. From the way his eyebrows sloped, you could tell he was deadset serious but then it comes too clearly back into your mind.

That you were weird, not his type, that he doesn't understand you. But instead of simply crying about it you left. To cry about it in your own space. And also then turn incredibly bitter over it.

"I just meant that..."

"That I'm a freak? Yeah, I got it," you snarled before yanking harder on the knob. "Open the damn door!"

"No. If you're going to leave then please do the courtesy of letting me memorize your face."

You close your eyes, steeling your resolve. Don't give in, you reminded yourself, not after a whole year of hunkering through yet another heartbreak. Hoseok was just like the rest. Taking weirdness in all the things you liked, that you were. Why should you ever change for anyone else?

"It's been a year," you note sternly, having slid on the floor. He's also there, watching away from the small distance with a crease of a frown between his brows.

"Exactly. This year was one of the worst I've ever had," he confesses, supposedly earnestly. "I admit the things that I said were wrong but I did not mean it like that!"

"________________ is just a bit weird. You know the people I used to date, there's a bit of a difference, softly said," you quote him word for word. "And you said that to someone else! You opened your mouth, said that shit and thought it was okay!"

The sun behind the window had nearly slipped over the horizon and the office space was illuminated with a soft orange glow.

"You know the first time I met you, that was a lie," he mutters into the air. No one had come to open the door despite you nearly beating it off the hinges.

"Oh, that too was a lie, wonderful," you groaned, rolling your eyes but Hoseok remains sitting sadly by, occasionally passively twirling his shoe laces.

"I actually went past you on the street. Remember the crossroad by that small confectionery?"

You did remember. You lived right above it for a while, making your hair smell perpetually of candy for half a year.

"I...I got lost around there and walked past you, and you were sort of listening to your headphones, not looking around. I remember," he chuckled as though taken by an old memory. "You wore that knitted jumper that kept falling off your shoulder, the faded beige one and I just...I was so jealous of you, you were so carefree."

You glanced at him surprised. As far as you knew the first time Hoseok and you met was at a graduation gathering, a friend of a friend sort of a situation. And as you sat there, enjoying your barbecue by the side, wondering whether to dip your ketchup-stained hand in some weed brownies, he came up to you with the brightest smile, talking as though he knew you. Guess he did then know you.

"And the next day I went there again. I didn't even know why but I just did and you were there again. And I kept returning," he smiled at the ground but it quickly vanished. "Every day for a month before I met you at that gathering. Sometimes you were there, a lot of times - not but when you did it lit up my entire day. I didn't know how to approach you though, it's not a thing you do in the middle of the street, you know?"

"No," you affirm faintly.

"And when you left..." Hoseok winced at the mere mention of it. "I still kept going back," his breath was nothing more than a whisper stained with regret. The look in his eyes was downright depressing and you wondered if he had roamed around bearing the same heavy chip that you had. "And our favourite cafe. And your favourite park spot. I was there like...like a ghost lingering in your presence."

"But why did you say then that I was weird?" you sniffled, letting, for the joke of your own mental stability, some of that defence down. Attempting to look at Hoseok without the veil of contempt you've draped over him for a year. Dragging yourself back from hell was hard, dragging yourself from hell when thrust there by the one person you thought wouldn't do that - even harder. But by peeling off at least one cover, you saw many wonderful memories behind it, as slightly tainted as they were.

"I don't know," he groaned, hiding his face in the palm of his hands. "I was stupid. I meant in my heart that you were unlike anyone I've been with before. Not bad but different. And, yes, sometimes I don't understand you but I want to," he rouses to look into your eyes across the room. "I want to. And even if I never fully understand, I would like to make you feel heard and stand by your side nonetheless."

You stare into the sun to avoid crying. Stupid thought as no one ever stared into this glowing orb of light hanging in the sky in order to not get misty-eyed.

"What I said there was, I admit, crass. I was scared because I...with you I don't want to leave. I don't want to call quits when it becomes uncomfortable or becomes uneasy, I want us to grow together. And that scares me because, for the first time, I can really truly get hurt," he exhaled a heavy sigh, voice growing strained. "So when you left, no explanation, just gone in the wind..." he glimpsed over the horizon. "Anyway, I recognise me cornering you like this is wrong but...if you ran away because you felt unloved, I just wanted to show that I'd be chasing after."

Hoseok wiped at his eyes and briskly got up.

"But if you didn't and don't want me, I'll open the doors," from the pocket of his jeans, he fished out a glinting silver key. "I really just wanted to memorize you for as long as I could. I'm sorry."

He opens the doors and you called out -

"Hoseok!"

JIMIN: The phone kept ringing. You'd put it on mute but even so the bright light of the flashing screen stirred you awake and after a brief wrangle of putting the chip bowl actually on the table nearby, kicking your leg free from the grasp of the blanket, you simply watched it ring. After eventually growing into silence, it went to the 45 unanswered calls like the rest. You sighed turned to your side and slid the eye mask over the face, trying to somehow coerce yourself into immediate and indisputable slumber.

This was just the outward manifestation of his bruised ego, nothing more. You don't think anyone had ever rejected Park Jimin so this must be a new, unfamiliar feeling, one he'll get over in time and then maybe even laugh about it years down the line.

I mean, come on, you thought to yourself cutting the words like bloodied post-it notes in your own mind. There's no such thing as a rich handsome guy genuinely falling for someone so...

The disgusting words sprung too freely on the tip of your tongue so you settle for normal. To not at least give into self-hatred so easy. Such was the plot of romantic dramas and fantasies hence why it was fiction. Rich, beautiful people went for other rich beautiful people, normal folks went for normal folks. Dogs did not mix with chickens or pandas with capybaras. It was simply nonsense.

But as you close your eyes, the memories make it harder to be as clinically objective. All too well, you remember. His hands on your face, grasping as though he feared you would leave.

"Why don't you ever believe me?" he asked with heated desperation. "Nothing I say is ever good enough. Nothing is trustworthy!"

You tried to pry him gently away.

"Because how can I believe you? Look at yourself and look at me. This is not even opposites it's...unfathomables!"

You wished partially that he'd go to the good old Mr Park of the beginning, one who'd walked up to you in a cafe and asked if for a fair amount of money you'd be willing to answer his phone and pretend to be his girlfriend. And since the sum he called out was the rate of an onerous monthly rent, you'd plastered the sweetest voice you could in a matter of seconds with no questions asked.

When thinking of all the troubles when he approached you again, completely by accident, you had thought to yourself jail, assault, violence, even cannibalism for good measure, who knew what kind of sicko this stranger could be, but never you considered you'd be scared by the simple fact that he was in love with you. He had been cold, rude and brusque at the start and you had been fine with that, your "job" was to sometimes go to family dinners and lie which while not moral was not a crime.

Only then he invited to accompany him to his office, then to trips, then to movies and then one day you wake up in your bed and Mr Park, once a cold and resigned man, drenched in his own riches, is now making pancakes on your old stovetop and smiles the kindest smile you'd ever seen and asks if you slept well.

How could it not be a scary sight?

"I love you!" he shook you by the shoulders, not hard enough to hurt but as if trying to shake the bad thoughts out. "But you hate yourself! And you never listen!"

"They'll think I'm a gold-digger!" you cried. Just looking around his apartment made you sick. You couldn't even afford his carpet. How could he love someone with whom he shared so little with? He had never known the feeling of counting one's last money to afford bread or not buying something out of impulse. And you had never known the etiquette of polite brutality, of caring about who sits where because one word spoken at the wrong crowd table could destroy your entire livelihood. Love didn't change two profoundly different experiences.

"They don't think that!" he argued. "My parents wanted me to be with someone-"

"Poor?" you interrupted finally wrenching yourself free. Why was he so cruelly saying these things? He will just make you love him and then dump you with nary concern. Like others and then in time you will always think that you should have known better. Should have gotten rid of those rose-tinted glasses sooner not when they're smashed in shatters on the cold concrete.

"No!" Jimin immediately counters. "Of a different social circle! And even if they did, I don't care!"

"But the press-!"

"I don't care!"

"The rest of your relatives and friends-!"

"I don't care!" he yelled back, ripping at his hair, faint tears lingering in his eyes. "What will it take for you to believe me?! Please, why don't you believe me?"

"I can't!" you shrieked back in a sob. "Because better you not love me at all than fall out of it after some time! I don't want to be loved! I don't want to trust! I just want to be alone!"

Alone is what you were now but it felt no better.

"It will," you calmed yourself aloud. "Give it some time and your life will return to how it was."

Boring. Monotone. A single actor performing the most dreadful play to an audience of no spectators. You sniffled punching the pillow. Stupid Park Jimin waltzing into your life and making you think you were not the person you saw in your mind. That you were better. But how can you be when you're always "you"? A nameless face in the crowd, a cog in the machine.

No one, really.

As a sudden hand wraps around your waist, you scream and nearly punch the lights out of the affectionate attacker before in the faint streetlight streaming through the windows you recognized Jimin's eyes.

"How did you get in here?" you rustled in indignation.

"I had a key made. Remember? So I could greet you at home after work," he explained sternly.

"Well, you can't be here now-" you tried to argue, even push him out if needed, but he grasped at your legs and wrestled you to sit atop of him. You always fretted you were too heavy but he never objected.

"I'll leave if you order me to leave. Say those exact words: "Jimin, I want you to leave and never return back."

"I want to be alone," you muttered out of force of habit playing with the neck of his shirt.

"It's not the same," he cupped your cheek. "Until you tell me to piss off in my face, I'll keep chasing you every time you run. You think no one would? I will. Over and over again."

Your lip wobbled.

"It's ungrateful work," you breathed as he tugged you closer into a hug, gently swaying from left to right.

"Not to me."

TAEHYUNG: It takes thirty minutes for your aunt, a known stick in the mud, to go from screaming why was there a whole ass adult man traipsing in the apartment her niece should keep an eye on, to peacefully discussing the best nut selection over the kitchen table with eagerly listening Taehyung on the other side.

You were 35% convinced he knew how to do magic, and 65% convinced he was magic. And if he feasibly could he would live in your asshole. And the worst of all you can't get rid of him.

Well no, the worst of all you don't want to.

Coming from a rough environment, no matter how you slice or dice it, that leaves its own impression upon the mind. Yours being - people leave, people lie, people bad. It was easy to go through life, more than two decades of them in selective solitude, having friends but never letting them too close in and soon after they would stop even being friends. It was easy and predictable and while no one cared for you, you had to care for no one, could go where you wanted, how and when you wanted and fully enjoy doing what you liked.

And then this curly-headed now human reincarnated tiger-bear hybrid showed up. Literally dropping out of nowhere whilst still in university, pointing a finger of his frankly too large of a hand at you and then basically saying: "I want that one, that one's mine". Actually no, he did say exactly those words as you remember faintly chucking a dictionary of law at his head, thinking he'll abduct you or something.

And that's how six years later you were moved in. And he had invaded every part of your life, with his kind words, sopping eyes and chiselled chin.

As Taehyung slowly drifted to sleep, eyes falling heavier, his hand is intertwined with yours. And as you'll go to sleep yourself, despite him having his own bed, inexplicably you'll wake up with his breath against the back of your head.

Which was strange you know. You don't even remember agreeing to be friends with him. But steady as a clockwork, lo' and behold, at two in the morning, Taehyung's thigh squirms in between yours and he sighs in content.

Bizarre to say the least.

"Hey, where are you going?" he asks in wonder, poking his very shirtless body through the crack in the bathroom doors, toothbrush hanging from the corner of his mouth.

"Out?"

"Wait, lemme comme with."

"Can I go out on my own? As the big girl that I am?" you huffed dryly, brows furrowed.

"No," he replied with a smile. Then you walk side by side you glare at your hands, swaying together in the warm air.

"A crazy question, one I'm just putting out there, will you ever...leave?" you ask with a faint frown. There might just be this...supposition, guesswork if you will, in your mind that it might just be that somehow you're...Taehyung's partner now.

"Hmm," he makes an act of pondering it out. "No, no, I don't think I will. Unless you kick me out."

Kick him out. Why didn't you? When previous lovers threw fits about Taehyung always being near, you parted with them with nary of guilt because they were...not your rock. Your rock and safe space had become this strange, occasionally vampiric-looking, a cardigan-loving friend of yours. But he never vocalized it. Or so you thought. He was always teasing you about being hard of emotional hearing, now that you thought about it.

You halted in the middle of the sidewalk and he turns to glimpse at you, curious.

"Taehyung...are you...in love with me?"

Astonishingly, he bursts into a peal of laughter.

"I have been for years now," he chuckles light-heartedly. "Though thank you for finally noticing."

"Wh-why didn't you say something? Anything?"

An expression of deep fondness settles on his face and it warms you like the late summer sun.

"I say "I love you" every day, dumbass. I've chased after you for like six years now. Oh, god," he gasps, sounding suddenly absolutely horrified. "Six years of my life wasted chasing after your stupid head. Oh, I'm an idiot."

"So a moron for a moron, a match made in lower intelligence," you grumble and he snorts at it, crossing the distance once more. When he takes your hand it feels weird for a second. But only for one. You ask yourself what will change and realize - not much.

"That we are Mrs Kim," he coos with a broad grin. "Great! Now I can show you the plans for our shared tombstone I sketched back in the university!"

JUNGKOOK: "He's...will he be staring like that for the entire evening?" your friend asks timidly, voice nearly overshadowed even by the pleasant music of the brunch place. You glimpse over your shoulder to find him aimlessly lounging around. When meeting your gaze, his lips, almost involuntary, spread into a wide grin as his nose scrunches in a manner that is inappropriate for any self-respecting bodyguard. He at least gathers that and sobers with a stern cough.

"Yeah, he's just...my...finance manager," lamely, you trail off but at least they believe it. Considering the last three months it wasn't that believable.

"In a twist of miraculous fate, a poor vintage boutique worker becomes the sole inheritor of the Durhanan Estate," she quotes with a mysterious smile and you squirm awkwardly as you always did when it was bought up. Six years of lawsuits had rendered the luck into a frenzied fever dream one you thought would never come to fruition. Even when the final decision was laid to rest and the lawyers of your great-grandfather popped their champagnes with cheery eyes it all felt so distant. Like a different life. That feeling, you find out, never left.

"Yeah, it's...crazy," you chuckled self-consciously.

"So is the old house haunted?" she questions leaning over the table with keen interest, though every once in a while her gaze does stray worryingly to where Jungkook was standing.

"It's just creepy. It's big...and old," you confess perhaps colouring it with hues too bold, knowing only the answer such as this would satisfy her interest. It was old and entirely too big (who needed thirty-four rooms) but with Jungkook it was less lonely, less of a ghost house and more of a...

No, it's stupid, don't say it, you think to yourself.

"So now that you're rich," she throws a not-so-small of judgemental look over the crystal glass of mimosa. "Will you be forgetting all about us?"

"No," you assure her. "This means nothing. It's just a change of...housing."

But she only scoffs in reply. You think you might not have your best friend much longer.

"You look unhappy," Jungkook reckons quietly, whilst driving back to the Durhanan estate. A nearly 300-year chateau hidden within an unnamed forest deep in the countryside. Once the chief story of the local children's ghost tales and now - your home.

Of sorts.

"I'm just tired," you deny, peering into the rolling landscape of the wilting greenery. A rougher hand suddenly rests atop of yours, stopping them from ripping the skin around the fingernails. Your face swelters with heat and you gently remove his palm.

You were his boss and this was...this was not appropriate.

But Jungkook has other ideas and despite there being thirty-four rooms and whooping nine acres of gardens there's hardly any escape from him.

"My lady, oh, my lady," he calls across the gravel path leading down into the overgrown, ivy-ridden paths. He runs up to you and then gently tucks the bloom of one of the wild roses ravaging the grounds behind your ear. He tries to suppress the smirk on his face and narrows his eyes against the glaring sun.

"You're...you," he stutters. "You doing anything special, tonight?"

You don't quite know why but that question, posed so innocently and presumably out of a need to start a conversation, makes you laugh. It was only you two here, no wifi, piss-poor electricity and the nearest town, a village actually, was thirty-minute drive away and the only thing interesting there was a two-room corner shop.

"Wondering whether we're going to be killed by demons, yes," you laughed lightly.

"I was just wondering whether we could bust out the old reliable solitaire in the library?"

You sigh but it falls more endeared than annoyed.

"Jungkook, stop trying to seduce me."

At first, his face seems to be crestfallen only for a cheeky smirk to appear.

"Trying?" he echoed and slightly leaned into you. A gust of sharp wind broke through the gardens and in sync you glanced at the sky above your heads. A cluster of dark clouds was gathering in the south.

"Let's go in," he urges softly but his body standing behind you flames your back.

A thunder was ripping outside like something crazy, rattling the panes of the window so hard you fretted they would shatter at some point. And the house screamed. Every breeze of the wind seemed to tear into the old floorboards as though they were alive.

Ghosts are not real, ghosts are not real, ghosts are not-

BOOM! BOOM! BOOM!

You screamed your lungs out, lunging towards the golden candelabra perched on the bedside table.

"You're alright? Are you okay?" Jungkook's voice swims through the dark and you exhale in loud relief.

"Do not! Scare me like that!"

After a moment and a creak of the old floor comes a bashful.

"Sorry."

Another crack of lightning. In the brief flash, you see him standing, unsure but not leaving. It was a bodyguard's duty to protect and he always took his duty quite seriously. Even if this duty was simply to protect you from any unwanted journalists and stalkers where there was none leaving him practically with nothing to do.

"Should I stay here? Protect you...from the storm?"

You raise an eyebrow.

"The storm? That is-"

CRACK!

"Yes, please and thank you," you whimper and not even a second later, the side of your bed dips.

Crickets might as well be chirping at the moment.

"Do you want to hold my hand?" he offers, sweetly, oh so sweetly as if he wasn't a little demon wearing a cheap halo. But still, the house continues its wail. How many lives had been lost in these walls? What stories did they tell?

You didn't want to know and so you agree but as he takes your palm, your hand lands on a very firm set of muscles.

"Jungkook, please retake 9th-grade biology, your six-pack is not a hand."

"It emits the same level of comfort."

He trails your hand higher, over his pecks and lands right on his heart. It drums like a fevered bird underneath your fingertips.

"Why are you so nervous?" you hum and he rolls on his side and settles himself onto the pillow.

"Because I like you. And you like me. Even if you pretend that you don't."

"It's really not ap-"

"Appropriate?" he finishes and then tugs his hands over your waist pulling you closer. "Perhaps not but you know what happens in the spooky old mansion, stays in the spooky old mansion."

His warm palm cups your cheek, stroking it with a dizzied smile.

"And if it doesn't, I'm a really good runner, so you can scurry all you like," a pause. His hand presses you even closer.

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ahundredtimesover · 2 years

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The Light of Dead Stars (Series Masterlist) | KSJ

Pairing: Seokjin x (f.) Reader; side Seokjin x (f.) OC; side Reader x Namjoon

Genre/Tags: arranged marriage, fake romance, boss/workmate aus; angst, drama, fluff, smut; slow burn

Series Warnings:��past toxic relationships (emotional/psychological abuse, cheating); “approved” extra-marital relationship (Jin and OC are in an unconventional arranged marriage & this is not an infidelity au but if the perception of it between the MCs is triggering, please skip this one!); foul/explicit language; alcohol consumption; mentions of injury and non-serious sickness; fighting, tears, and drama; explicit sexual content (specific warnings stated per chapter) (18+)

Word count: 150k

Muse Moodboard | Setting Moodboard

Status: Complete

Series summary: Your unconventional arranged marriage with your company’s President, Kim Seokjin, is necessary, practical, and simple - both your families benefit, and he minds his own business and so do you. But when a slip-up causes his parents to believe that you and he are in love, you have no choice but to pretend you are, especially with the trip to France for his brother’s wedding coming up. When you get back to Seoul, things start to change, and Seokjin is faced with the most difficult decision he has to make.

A/N: I came across Dead Stars by Paz Marquez Benitez again recently (a 1925 short story written in English and a classic in Philippine literature), and I was reminded of how I’ve always wanted to capture a fraction of the essence of that story ever since I read it in high school. But I sort of flipped it on its head and came up with this! My hand also slipped so lots of things happen. And given that I finished watching Business Proposal before I started writing and since I have no knowledge of the food production industry or the corporate world in general, several terms and elements were taken from that show (but it’s a completely different story). So please, don’t mind the inaccuracies! Jin has also been a menace 😈 recently so this was incredibly fun and satisfying to write. I hope you enjoy! 🥰🥰

Love–he seemed to have missed it. Or was the love that others told about a mere fabrication of perfervid imagination, an exaggeration of the commonplace, a glorification of insipid monotonies such as made up his love life?

Prologue (2.3k)

Chapter 01 (9.4k)

Chapter 02 (9.7k)

Chapter 03 (9.8k)

Chapter 04 (8k)

Chapter 05 (10.6k)

So all these years–since when?–he had been seeing the light of dead stars, long extinguished, yet seemingly still in their appointed places in the heavens.

Chapter 06 (12k)

Chapter 07 (9.9k)

Chapter 08 (10.6k)

Chapter 09 (12.3k)

Chapter 10 (12.6k)

Chapter 11 (13.1k)

Chapter 12.1 (9.5k)

Chapter 12.2 (9.8k)

Epilogue (10.5k)

#Extras:TLODS

masterlist

#seokjin fic #seokjin angst #seokjin fluff #seokjin smut #seokjin x reader #arranged marriage au #fake dating au #boss au #workmates au #series #the light of dead stars

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notacelestialbeing · 10 months

Text

criminal (tiffany x f!reader)

a tiffany au, chapter story.

⤷ synopsis: tiffany is the leader of a criminal society known as the syndicated. she meets you through her father who wants her to marry you as a way to grow army of the syndicated. it all starts to spiral out of control until tiffany and you begin to develop feelings for each other. tiffany being unable to love/be loved, doesn’t know what this new emotion is, you help her figure it out. however, an unknown society begins to invade any possibility of happiness entering the two societies and tries to take revenge from the past. a past two guys tried to put behind. but can you two truly defeat whatever unknown society has started to take over the world?

⤷ characters:

switch!f!reader - co-leader of the jaded morningstars

switch!tiffany - leader of the syndicated seraphs

jung ho-seok - father of tiffany

kim namjoon - father of the reader

IU - mother of tiffany

han sohee - mother of the reader

kim chaewon - sister of the reader

rosé - right hand woman of the reader/older sister

bang chan - left hand man of the reader

huh yunjin - right hand woman of tiffany

min yoongi - left hand man of tiffany/older brother

newjeans - the reader’s younger sisters

dreamcatcher - the reader’s cousins (special appearances)

aespa - tiffany’s younger sisters

itzy - tiffany’s cousins (special appearances)

the serpents/vampires

the dearils/shapeshifters

lilith’s messengers/demons

hades’ pigeons/phoenixes

+ more guest appearances/special appearances.

⤷ warnings: violence, sexual themes, suggestive language, cursing, mature themes, gore, mentions of traumatic experiences, fluffy, slightly angsty, supernatural characters/places, themes of paranormal activity, greek mythology, dark.

⤷ themes/tropes of the story: enemies to lovers, arranged marriage, cults, dystopian societies, cyberpunk, paranormal, supernatural themes, mentions of greek gods/goddesses, mentions of demons/vampires/evil seraphs/phoenixes/shapeshifters.

⤷ songs:

s-class by stray kids, venom by stray kids, freeze by stray kids, charmer by stray kids, etc.

cyberpunk by ateez

end of the night by jay park

love killa by monsta x, got me in chains by monsta x, rotate by monsta x, etc.

dive by jooyoung

bother me by chungha

mirotic by tvxq, everyday it rains by tvxq, wrong number by tvxq, etc.

trauma by sf9

love on the floor by nct 127

criminal by taemin, move by taemin, artistic groove by taemin, heart stop by taemin & seulgi, eclipse by taemin + a lot of songs by taemin.

bite me by enhypen

eve, psyche & the bluebeard’s wife by lesserafim

sinphony by kim wooseok, shame by kim wooseok, red moon by kim wooseok, etc.

miss right by bts, dimple by bts, coffee by bts, rain by bts, 21st century girl by bts, etc.

h2o by lay

⤷ a chapter series.

⤷ chapter 1: the unknown society.

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indndwnshead · 6 months

Text

Veiled: Introduction

Pairing: Min Yoongi x (f) Reader

Warning/tags: Mafia AU, Age Gap (like 8 years of difference), there will be violence but not in this intro, soft/sickly/naive reader and dominant mafia boss Yoongi (why do I love this type of story but please don't be like this irl girls??)

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In the heart of Seoul, where towering skyscrapers cast long shadows, the Kim family's presence was both a whispered legend and an ominous reality. Known as the second-ranking family within the Min Mafia Empire, their influence was a shadowy force to be reckoned with. Raised within the confines of a luxurious mansion, you, the youngest of the four Kim siblings, had always lived in blissful ignorance of the intricate details of your father's and your brothers' sinister dealings. Your health issues, stemming from your premature birth, had kept you confined to the safety of your home, your world painted with the colours of innocence.

Jin, your eldest brother and a man of honour, had been your saviour from the moment you took your first breath. He was your protector, your confidant, and your anchor in a world filled with uncertainty. Though groomed to be the successor to your father's power, Jin had surprised everyone by choosing to pursue a career in medicine instead. His decision had been a profound act of love, a choice made to ensure that your fragile existence was never jeopardized by the dangerous world of crime your family inhabited.

Namjoon, the middle sibling, was a genius in his own right. His sharp mind had always made him stand out. But as he delved deeper into the family business under your father's tutelage, he had become somewhat distant. You carried the weight of guilt for this transformation, believing that he resented both you and Jin for the choices they made that seemed to leave him with no option but to step into the void left by Jin's departure from the mafia world. In reality, Namjoon's distance was driven by a desire to protect your innocence from the darkness that lurked just beneath the surface.

Taehyung, your closest brother in age, initially harboured resentment when you were born. You became the centre of attention, diverting everyone's focus away from him. However, a single incident marked a turning point - the day you fainted after Taehyung finally asked you to play together for the first time. Overjoyed at the opportunity to share a playful moment with your youngest brother, your happiness led you to push your fragile health limits. Taehyung swore he had only turned away for a brief moment, racing ahead as you chased him in a game of tag. Yet, when he glanced back, you had already collapsed, unconscious on the ground. It was in that critical moment that Taehyung realized the fragility of your existence. From that moment onward, he transformed into your most trusted ally and partner-in-crime within the confines of your sheltered life. Taehyung understood your limits better than anyone else and knew precisely how to push your buttons.

Your life took an unexpected turn when you turned eighteen and your father announced the arranged marriage between you and Yoongi, the only child of Mr. Min, the formidable head of the Min Mafia Empire. The news had left you elated and anxious, for you had long admired Yoongi from afar. Your crush on him had blossomed into a deep affection ever since your sixteenth birthday. However, as you entered the latter half of your teenage years, Yoongi had slowly but inexplicably distanced himself from you.

Unbeknownst to you, Yoongi had also fallen for you, but he carried the weight of guilt. The age gap and the complexities of your family's mafia ties had convinced him that his feelings were inappropriate. He had kept his emotions locked away, leaving you to wonder why he had become a distant figure in your life.

Now, at twenty-two and thirty, you and Yoongi were officially married, a couple in the eyes of the world. The façade of your love was convincing, but the words "I love you" had never left Yoongi's lips. He was fiercely protective and possessive of you, guarding the secret of his feelings with the same intensity he employed to protect you from the perilous world into which you had been thrust. Yet, you remained in the dark about the true nature of your family's involvement in the criminal empire, a world where darkness and danger lurked in the shadows, and where your innocence had been carefully shielded from the truth.

However, your life soon took a turn for the worse when you unknowingly let a seemingly innocent new friend enter your life, unveiling your perception of your world.

---

A/N: One day I had this wild thought and gave birth to a 7k+ word story. Testing the waters to see if there is interest in the plot. IT WILL GET ANGSTY (possibly smutty, idk, not sure about this one yet). Please let me know? 🥹

Also yes, very self-indulgent of me to get all the Kims to be your brother and just get all those angsty plots and AU into one big story.

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jwirecs · 1 year

Text

Recommended BTS Fics of October💖

hello, hello! here are my bts recs of october! hopefully these beautiful stories get more recognition as well as the writers 💝

** anything in parentheses and bolded are my thoughts that can be disregarded if needed **

🔞smut || 💔angst || 💕fluff || ✅completed || 🔄ongoing || 💯favorite

Auburn Skies || @persphonesorchid💕💔✅💯💯

↳ Everyone knows that if your best friend has a little sister, she’s off limits. That, and the fact that your best friend will probably kill you if you even think about going near his sister. Yoongi knows this. There’s no way he could tell Namjoon that once upon a time you kissed him, drunk in his living room after a break up. So much time’s passed since then, too much time to bring it up now, but Yoongi still thinks about it, he’s still a little hopeful. Now you’re here and you clearly have something you want to say to Yoongi. Namjoon’s gonna kill him.

Sharing is Caring || @97erstan💕🔄💯💯

↳ Your bestfriend is diligent in his attempts at persuading you to let him move into your house. (i feel like this is going to be a best friends to lovers type of au so its going here)

Match Made In Hell || @ughcore🔞💕💔🔄💯💯💯

↳ Yoongi truly can’t imagine things getting any worse than the predicament he has found himself in now. Betrothed to a woman he hasn’t met, career on hold and his parents pressuring him into marriage with a sharp stick, ushering him to walk off the plank into the fiery pits of hell that is arranged matrimony with some poor, foolish girl.

No Kisses || @icedmatchatae🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ It's championship week! The most anticipated week of the school year; however, leading up to the events, you and your council must collaborate with the football team to promote school spirit and pride. Unfortunately, you're forced to work with your number one enemy, Football team captain and fuck boy, Kim Taehyung, known for having a mysterious "no kisses" rule.

Pick of the Patch || @taestefully-in-luv🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ You’re a struggling artist with a strong desire to escape so when your mother suddenly calls and asks you to return home to replace her in this years Harvest Festival dance, you never said yes faster. However, she informs you that you’ll be working with another dancer, Kim Taehyung and upon meeting, you decide you do not like him…but right when you think you could grow up and move past it, Taehyung makes it clear that he does not like you either

Whatta Catch || @aredheadedmess💕💔✅💯💯

↳ One, two, three strikes you’re out. When opposing opinions find you roughing it up with the university’s star pitcher, he makes it his mission to show that you’re wrong about college sports—and maybe your feelings about the player himself.

3:27AM || @untaemedqueen🔞💕💔✅💯💯💯💯💯💯

↳ Request: This time a Yoongi one where he wakes up in the middle of the night to his s/o’s phone ringing like crazy so he checks it and sees it’s her ex. So he answers the phone only to prove that she’s taken by having sex with her with her ex on the phone. Can the s/o be overstimulated as well? (i have no words. clearly the amount of 100s says alot)

Quiet & Qualms || @sugafreeagustd-blog💕✅

↳ Your quiet vacation brings your qualms to the surface.

Drabble: Apple Bobbing || @kithtaehyung💕✅💯💯💯

↳ apple bobbing at an autumn fair, yoongi looks disgustingly hot all wet (part of the three tangerines series and i just need to take a deep breath cause dam. also i didnt have a fckboy section so its going in this section for the time being)

Confident || @h0neypjm 🔞💕💔🔄💯

↳ After giving Jungkook the best suck of his life he’s left wondering if what you said was true. Was it really your first time? ‘Cause Jungkook thinks you might’ve lied.

Pretty Kitty || @sweetheartjeongguk🔞💕💔🔄💯

↳ never in his life would taehyung have expected the shy girl from his history class to be the sex kitten on his computer screen. (brb let me take some deep breaths)

Tears Dry || @codebts🔞💔✅

↳ “he walks away, the sun goes down. he takes the day, but i’m grown. and in your grey, in this cool shade, my tears dry on their own.” (authors note said it might be just one part, but who knows)

Touchdown || @flurrys-creativity🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ Being the club manager of your all inclusive college football team wasn’t always peachy but you loved it nonetheless. Until the new recruits arrived and turned everything you knew upside down. Especially the new star Jeon Jungkook had your mind spiraling

The Deal || @untaemedqueen🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ (there wasnt a summary and i suck at making summaries but like read it when you can! plus i swear i’ve read this but you know, it doesnt hurt to read this again)

Forever, We are Young || @taegularities 💔✅💯💯

↳ How would you imagine BTS to be in 25 years? Despite the fact that their disbandment happened half an eternity ago, there are still deep issues between the now grown-up men. Meeting after decades again, they know it’s time to settle them once and for all - but certainly not without finding each other all over again as well. (i feel like everyone needs to read this at some point, just to like idk mentally prepare them in some sort of way.)

A Year of Sunshine || @herecomesjoon💕💔✅💯

↳ You had always talked about being parents, but you didn’t imagine it would happen like this.

An Affair of the Art || @raplinesmoon💕💔✅💯💯

↳ One rainy day looking at art sets off a spiral of events Namjoon can’t control, leaving his heart for the taking (ngl i can actually picture him taking his kid to the museums. like that sht is cute af)

Daisy || @chateautae 🔞💕💔✅💯

↳ sleeping with your infuriating, unfairly attractive rival in art school? stupid. sleeping with him without protection? even more stupid. when you became pregnant with kim taehyung’s child at 21, your young lives suddenly derailed for the worst. fulfilling your parental roles early on proved difficult, but five years later, perhaps it was time to give your complicated relationship a second chance; not only for yourselves, but for your baby daughter—daisy.

Lullaby || @herecomesjoon💕✅💯

↳ If Yoongi had his way, and he often did, he would stay up every night to take care of his little girl.

Everything Falls (Into Place) || @blog-name-idk🔞💕💔✅

↳ Your new roommates are unbearably nice and unbearably hot. Good thing you're an adult who is fully capable of platonic friendships with the opposite sex, right?

Home || @vyduan🔞💕🔄💯💯

↳ Uh, the OT7 supernatural filth but like cozy and middle-aged with a passel of children that no one asked for. Blame Park Jimin’s Folio Teaser (even though he’s not even in the scene) but like fuck him and fuck me. (the “fuck him and fuck me” part of the summary, i feel you. had me cackling, but i feel you)

Little Do You Know || @yoongiofmine🔞💕💔🔄💯

↳ In a world where idols and actors can’t date, whether it be because of contracts, lack of time, or the dangers that involve having your personal life leaked, the market opened up for a new work field. Playmate Agencies emerged to supply the entertainment world with highly trained companions for hire. Bangtan is looking for new playmates. And you just happen to be the one all of them choose. (cant wait for s2 of this)

Lost and Found || @flowerfangz🔞💕💔🔄💯💯

↳ y/n knew basically living in the woods she was asking for some crazy things to happen but she didn't think the thing to happen would be two hybrids at her door asking for help in the middle of the night while one is injured. (expect a few ongoing fics from this author on this months fic recs cause LORD HAVE MERCY)

The Freak || @flowerfangz💕💔🔄

↳ having been in the fighting ring for years, the night started like any other one but you haven't met a hybrid like him, someone made so different like you. You expected the fight to go like any other but who knew the orange eyed man was your get away?

To Be Loved || @flowerfangz 🔞💕💔🔄💯

↳ after presenting late, your parents were embarrassed by you. In hopes of saving their image they arrange for you to be married to their friend's son, who turns out to make your life hell for years until you can't take it anymore. You'd rather die trying to get away then die not trying at all. As you run under the blue moon you can't help but wonder what is it like to be loved?

Coffee || @crownjimin💕💔✅💯💯

↳ the enemies to lovers social media au where min yoongi refuses to date a cheerleader, but yoon haryun might be able to change that.

The Comforts of Creatures || @interesting-interludes🔞💕💔🔄💯

↳ you’re a prisoner here, but you can’t remember why. you can’t remember much of anything. not where you came from, not who you are, not even what you are. what happens when a pack of terrifying monsters breaks into the facility where you’re being held. not to kill you, but to…protect you?

Caught in the Crossfire || @taleasnewastime 🔞💕💔✅💯💯💯

↳ Taehyung kills people, he isn’t ashamed to admit it (though it’s not something he shouts about). To date he has never found a reason that someone didn’t deserve to die. That the person hadn’t committed some hideous act. That the world wouldn’t be a better place without them in it. But that was before he got sent your information. (AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.)

Crimson || @btsstan12💕✅💯💯💯

↳ The time when the wind changes and you can feel poetry in the air is autumn. Autumn is also called fall. This time, maybe literally for Namjoon as he falls for the girl with her nose buried in a book. He navigates his small crush on her with crimson cheeks, crunch of leaves and the changing winds. (i am soft, this is so soft)

Fool for You || @btsgotjams27💕💔🔄

↳ When Jungkook is finally single, you shoot your shot.

Make an Offer || @bangtanintotheroom🔞✅

↳ Money in exchange for companionship and fucking? It was an arrangement that you were comfortably taking part in with your current sugar daddy. But when you lock eyes with a stranger during a night out, you’re approached with an offer that could shake things up.

Bad and Sweet Trilogy || @helenazbmrskai🔞💕💔✅

↳ (no summary, three different one shots. i love)

Do check out all of the other BTS Fics that i have reblogged as well!!

** if there is any fics that you guys would like to recommend, please do! i am slowly running out of fics to read **

#bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts angst #bts smut #bts strangers to lovers au #bts best friends to lovers au #bts mafia au #bts hybrid au #bts dad au #bts fuckboy au #bts established relationship au #bts enemies to lovers au #bts fic recs #bts recs #bts werewolf au #bts soulmate au

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