#Maybe Joons hair just faded....who knows | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kimnjss · 3 years

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signature sparkle | knj

⤑ series: plot twist

⤑ pairing: rapper!namjoon x rich girl!reader

⤑ genre: let’s just call it angst, lmao.

⤑ rating: PG13

⤑ word count: 6.7K // unedited.

⤑ warnings: there aren’t any...

⤑ chapter song: lonely eyes - lauv.

⤑ A/N: hiii! don’t have a lot to say expect thank you so much for everyone who’s enjoying this story!! this part came out later in the day than i planned, but thank you soo much for being patient!! hope you like it nd of course ., let me know what you think x

APRIL 24TH, 2020 | 22:47

Namjoon spots you first. Through the crowd of smartly dressed mid-twenty-year-olds. The dress you wear hugs the subtle curves of your body nicely, very obviously outlining your figure. He pretends not to notice, but it's hard to ignore the look on your face when you laugh. Head tilted back, features contorting as you lean on the man beside you. His arm wrapped around your waist, a bit low if anyone cared to ask.

His breath catches when you're turning to face in his direction as if you've sensed his arrival. A pretty smile breaks onto your features as you lift your hand up to wave, and he can't help but think you had been waiting for him to show up. Obviously.

The man beside you nods, accepting the kiss you showily place on his cheek. Grinning wide up at him before you're turning to make your way over. It's subconscious, the way he shifts to straighten himself beside his friends. Letting his mind wonder what you'd compliment him about first. Probably a lame joke about his glasses, or maybe you'd annoyingly poke at his dimples.

He doesn't miss the switch in your hips as you approach, drink seemingly appearing in your hand as a waiter passes. You really did have everything handed to you. Your smile only grows as you get closer and just as he's fixing himself to derail one of your blatant flirting attempts, you're being engulfed in Yoongi's embrace.

Bent backward as he hugs you, laughing loudly and your drink sloshes. Falling in dark droplets on to the carefully polished floor. As soon as you stood straight up again, you're setting your sights on the other three people stood in front of you. Brow arching as your gaze zeros in on Taehyung.

Outstretching your hand to set your drink in his palm, a sly smile spreads across your carefully glossed lips. “You're cute,” The remark is quick, thoughtless. But it still has Joon's stomach flipping, it only gets worse when while watching a flustered Taehyung fumble through a 'thanks'.

“Yn. This is Taehyung and that's Jimin,” Yoongi is pointing either of them out, all while moving to stand beside Taehyung an arm slung over his shoulder. Both of them are granted a short wave before you're turning your attention to Namjoon. Seemingly for the first time tonight.

His face is quickly shifting in a glare, hastily trying to cover up the fact that he had been watching you since you had walked over. Lips shifting into that flirty smirk of yours the moment your eyes lock, moving toward him with this bone-chilling slowness. “Hi, Joonie.” An instant shiver runs down his spine following the sweet tone of your voice.

The tips of your long fingers curl around the skinny fabric of his tie, tugging him down to eye level. “You look especially appetizing in your stuffy little monkey suit,” So close that your noses are barely touching, he can see the subtle sparkle detail in your eye shadow, fading into the sharp line of eyeliner. Lashes looking much longer than he remembers, probably stuck some on like he's seen some girls do from time to time.

You smell nice too. Sweet. Like vanilla, but there's a bit of tang from the alcohol you've been sipping. “What, Joon? Aren't you gonna repay the compliment?” Brows furrowing slightly, lip jutting out to create a pout. You're leaning back, taking in the flustered look on his face.

“Don't you think I look good in my dress?” His eyes are huge, stammering for a response. There's a cute blush rising on his cheeks, paired with the pop of one of his deep dimples. “Oh!” Giggling, the tip of your finger pokes at the indent causing his cheeks to darken. He was so cute.

Jimin is quickly coming to his rescue, an arm looping around yours and pulling the two of you apart. “Alright, alright. Down, temptress. Let our poor Joonie collect his bearings. I think it's time you introduce me to some cute boys,” The last bit of his sentence is emphasized, thrown over his shoulder to the two boys cooing back and forth.

He's pulling you away, leaving no room for argument. Quickly falling into his rapid chatter about his plans for tonight of getting drunk and hooking up. Maybe even meet up with someone that'll make him swoon, so like the perfect little wing woman, you're walking him right to the man of the hour.

Jungkook is sat in the middle of a long leather couch, arms outstretched over the back of it. Jin and Hoseok are sat on either side of him, both with scarcely clothed girls perched on their laps. You've seen the girl with Jin many times before a model of some sort who feeds on the undivided attention from Mister Kim Seokjin.

The girl with Hoseok is different, though. They always were. A pretty girl with hair dyed red a pointed nose and dark painted lips. Her body shakes as she giggles, twirling a piece of hair around her manicured finger. She gives an obvious wiggle of her hips and Hobi eats it up, pulling her closer to him by her hips.

“Jhope and Jin? They're both cute, Yn. But I'm not exactly sure I'm their type.” Jimin is making a board gesture toward the two of them and you're quick to roll your eyes, tilting your head to look over at him. “Duh. Not them. Jungkook,”

You watch as his gaze shifts to the middle, landing on Jungkook. Who looks extremely handsome with his drink in his hand and a smile on his face. “That's Jeon Jungkook... you're going to hook me up with Jeon Jungkook?”

If you had been any closer, you'd be sure he heard you with the way his head snaps up in your direction. Wide eyes focusing on the guy hanging off your arm. He's quick to stand as you approach, rattling the two men on his side. So wrapped up in their girls, they don't even notice his little outburst.

“Jungkookie, this is Jimin. His friends ditched him, isn't that so sad?” Pausing to show off your signature pout, paired with gently nudging Jimin forward. “Do you think you could entertain him for a bit?”

Jungkook is nodding almost instantly, “Y-yeah. I can do that,”

“Great!” With a quick pat on Jimin's shoulder and a wide smile sent up to your friend, you're quickly turning to leave the two of them alone. Making a quick beeline straight to the bar.

APRIL 24TH, 2020 | 22:59

Namjoon watches you walk away. Every dip and sway of your hips until you're disappearing out of sight. And even then he can't tear his eyes from that direction.

You've invaded his space countless times before, he was beginning to wonder if you even knew what personal space was. But this time was different. This time had a stronger hammering rising in his chest, this incessant urge to revel in the fact that you're so close rather than push you away.

He nearly lost it when you laughed, breath brushing against his lips. Nearly lost his mind at the sound, although he's sure his mind was already gone. Blame it on the alcohol he intended to drink tonight, must've got a head start in his system. There's no other explanation for why he's feeling this way.

Yoongi lets out a snort, moving to stand in front of his friend, cutting off his view just as you're reaching the rest of your friends. He's got this shit-eating grin on his face, hands set on his hips. “You like her, huh?” He's not sure if it's the teasing tone in his friend's voice or the knowing look on his face, but Joon is filled with annoyance.

“Even if it's just a little bit,” He rushes, lifting his hands up in defense.

Namjoon is instantly rolling his eyes, arms crossing over his chest as he arches a brow down at his friend. “What are you even talking about?” Because there was no way he could be talking about what he thought. Suggesting that he might see you differently than he's seen you after all this time. That was insane.

“Come on, we all see how you get when we talk about her. And the way you look at her?” Taehyung is quickly jumping to his lover's side, dropping an arm around Joon's shoulder. His face shifting into a mock lovey-dovey expression, before he's bursting into a fit of giggles.

Joon is quick to shrug his arm off of him, pushing him away slightly. “I look at her like she's annoying the shit out of me,” They're both laughing this time, loud and obnoxious. Catching the attention of a few people nearby.

Wheezing breaths leave their lips, chest heaving as their laughs calm down. “Yeah, okay,” Yoongi speaks through fainting laughter, straightening his back while shoving his fingers through his hair. He shares a silent look with Taehyung before he's shifting his gaze back on to Joon.

“Don't you think she looks cute in magenta?” Yoongi grins, the words barely leaving his mouth before Namjoon is speaking up. Almost automatically. “It's baby pink, actually. She wears it because she thinks it makes her nose look smaller,”

His response has the both of them breaking into fits of laughter again, hunching forward as their backs shake. “And how do you know that!?” Taehyung is managing through his laughs, only causing Joon's cheeks to flush pink.

Why did he know that? No doubt something you uttered to him mindlessly while the two of you were alone, but why did he remember? And why was it the first thing he noticed the moment you were making your way over to him? With another roll of his eyes, he's brushing past his friends with a mumble of going to meet up with some people.

“I'll go get us drinks, baby. Wait here,” Yoongi says with a short laugh, setting his hand on Taehyung's shoulder before he's turning around, walking in the direction of the bar.

APRIL 24TH, 2020 | 23:19

Joon was so cute. You couldn't wrap your head around exactly what it was about him that made it so hard to not think of him, but it was like every free moment you had was filled with thoughts of him. He was so closed off and distant when it came to you, the dramatic show of annoyance he'd put on whenever you'd get close.

Yet, he wasn't as ambiguous as he liked to let on. You saw the little peaks in characters he'd have when the two of you were together. The lingering stare he'd give you while you'd look over his work or the spouts of jealously when you weren't given him your undivided attention.

Not sure exactly what it was Joon felt for you, but there had to be something there. He wanted you in some type of way and what were you supposed to do? Ignore it? Go to work every day and see him and just what?.. Do your job?

That was what was expected of you. Getting your job done. Every single day. No more fucking up, no more fucking around. Just doing everything the exact way it should be done. Or else...

“Do you want me to get you a drink?” Yoongi's voice sounds from behind you, breaking through the raging thoughts clouding your mind. He shoots a large grin in your direction, lifting his body onto the stool beside you.

Tipping back your glass, you're sucking back the last bits of drink you had left. Face souring from the bitter taste. “It's fine. I'll get you one,” You're lifting your hand to flag the bartender over. “Each glass is at least sixty dollars,” The tip of your manicured nail taps the menu where the prices are listed.

His eyes go wide. “Why!?”

“We're celebrating!” A laugh falls from your lips at his surprise. In a room full of filthy rich artists and their even richer team, of course, the drinks would be expensive. Dropping a hundred or two was equivalent to shopping at the dollar store among the lot of you. “I'll just open a tab, you and your friends can get whatever. On me.”

Chasing your words with your drink order to the bartender, Yoongi does the same after you. Swiveling around in his chair to check out the crowd of party-goers quickly filling up the room. His eyes catch the man stood a few feet away from you, leaning over the back of a chair.

Dark eyes squinted behind his thing rimmed glasses, glaring in your direction. One hand shoved in his pocket, the other holding a drink. It's obvious that he's watching every one of your movements, more than likely trying to read your lips. Yoongi is quick to avert his gaze, turning his attention back on to you.

“Is that your boyfriend?” He's subtle with the way he points him out, tipping his head in the direction of where he stood. You're not as discreet, whipping your body around to see where he's pointing. And then full-on lifting your hand to wave over at him.

Pure shock takes over his features, cheeks darkening as he waves back. Obviously caught in his staring. “One of them. Have you heard of him? His soundcloud name is IM,” Your drinks are brought out at that moment, set down on a pair of coasters.

“Wait. You're dating a soundcloud rapper?” You're familiar with the stigma and preconceived notions that come with soundcloud rappers and while most of them were true, Changkyun was different. Not only was he talented, but he was sweet, generous and he cared a lot.

About you especially. “Stop it. He's sweet. And he's a lot better than you'd think.” You're gearing up to further defend your man, but Yoongi is quick to lift his hand, shaking his head slightly at your protest.

“No, I mean. You literally own this place. Why don't you just sign him?” Pfft. Like you haven't thought of that before. “He says he wants to do it himself...” You're lifting your glass to your lips, taking a few sour sips before setting it back down. Leaning in close to whisper in his ear.

He's instantly engulfed in the sweet smell of you, cool breath tickling his flaming ears. “But sometimes, I think it's because of me.” Yoongi's getting a good look at your face when you're pulling back, the flash of sadness hidden deep in your eyes. It's gone before he can place it, masked with their normal pretty sparkle.

“What do you mean?”

Your fingers push through your hair as you lean back, letting a soft sigh fall past your lips. “I'm not dumb. I know how a lot of people view me and how it affects the company. If he were to sign and be dating me, it wouldn't be good for him.” The two of you never fully talked about it, but it didn't take a genius to put two and two together.

“You sound like you've thought about this before,” He's taking his first sip of whiskey, corners of his mouth lifting in a small smile. Obviously impressed by the taste. You're nodding at his words, gaze shifting from him over to where Changkyun had been standing before. “I used to feel really bad about it. I mean... I still do, I just...”

What were you supposed to do? It's not like he's ever even said that was the real reason behind his reluctance, so how were you supposed to know? “Why don't you change then? Actually, clean up your act and be serious.” He sounds exactly like Hoseok and your father.

“I don't want to,” It's like you're constantly being surrounded by people telling you what to do. “Why not?” Truthfully, you didn't know yourself. If you were to start listening and following the rules, what's the worse that could happen? There was just this insistent tug in the other direction, clutching to the bit of control that you had.

You don't get a chance to answer, though. Changkyun is walking straight up to you. An arm circling around your waist and stare closing in on Yoongi. He's shooting him one hard glare that has him instinctively backing away. Gaze shifting back onto you, he's hitting you with one of his sweet smiles. “Come sit, baby. Kookie is about to go up and talk,”

Allowing him to help you from your stool, you're sending a wave over your shoulder as he leads you toward the couches where you had first left Jungkook and Jimin. Only now, Jimin was sat by himself – Jungkook making his way up toward the speakers. Namjoon and Taehyung have found their way over, sat with Hoseok and Jin.

Changkyun is slouching onto the couch, pulling your body down onto his lap. With your legs on either side of his thigh and his arm secured around your waist. His chin finds home on your shoulder, lips placing soft kisses to your cheek.

You can feel a pair of eyes burning holes into the side of your face, but you can't be bothered to look as Jungkook reaches to click the button, releasing his new single. Cheers instantly wash over the crowd as purchases of the song begin to flood in, the number of plays following.

With a large grin, Jungkook's moving to the mic to speak.

APRIL 25TH, 2020 | 00:12

Conversation bubbles between the lot of you. Mainly centered around Jungkook and his mixtape and it's projected success. Changkyun laughs along with everyone else, with both of his arms secured around your waist. Joon has moved from his spot beside you, disappearing somewhere within the crowd.

He had watched every one of you and Changkyun's movements, trying to hide his staring with large gulps of his beer. It wasn't annoyed glares that he had been shooting your way, those were obvious and really easy to read. But the way he was looking at you now, was something you hadn't seen before.

Something you couldn't easily place.

No time is given for you to decipher it because he's standing from his spot with a quick mumble to Yoongi about his whereabouts. And since he's walked away you can't seem to focus on the conversation happening around you. Can't help but wonder what he's up to and if he was having a good time.

And all at once, you're being hit with this urge to get something to drink. With a few taps to Changchun's arms, you're wiggling from his grip. Bending at your waist, you're planting a soft kiss on his cheek. “I'll be right back, baby.”

You're heading straight to the bar, at least that's what you tell yourself when you're walking away from your friends. But you find yourself looking through the heads of the crowd for those familiar pair of glasses and deeply dimpled cheeks. Through your search, you find yourself in the record room.

Hidden from the rest of the building, a room filled with the highest-ranking records to ever come from this place. All hanging in glass frames, disks shiny gold, and the artists' names etched into the frame. Plush red carpet covering the floors, so soft you don't hear the footsteps approaching.

Not until you're feeling the brush against your shoulder, his tall presence makes you feel smaller, but at the same time secure beside him. Instantly. It's an odd feeling that you're not quite used to. “Hey.” For some reason your voice is caught, the only thing you can muster is a smile and a simple nod of your head.

“Why are you here away from anyone else?” You're not used to Namjoon actively trying to keep up a conversation with you, let alone starting them. You're not sure how to react, so your words come out awkward and your body language follows. “I came to get a drink... but, uhm. I got distracted... did you come to see the records?”

That had to be the reason why he was in here, right? Nothing else in here for him other than the history within these walls. You had planned to show him... and the other new signs, this room next week. Everyone got a kick out of seeing the records of their favorite artists hanging up on the walls, dreaming that their own would make it up there too.

So, of course, you're surprised with the shake of his head. The shy smile he tries to hide with the drop of his head. “I was actually looking for you.” He mumbles out, avoiding your eyes as he speaks. It's like he can tell how his words affect you because he's quick to buffer them. “Not for any particular reason,” Wide eyes finally find yours, his cheeks blushed pink. “I just wanted to ask you...”

He's shuffling the beer bottle between his hands, eyes dancing along the walls as he tries to put the words together. He doesn't look up at you until he's properly fixed his sentence in his head. “What happened with your dad? I heard he came down to talk to you.” You didn't have to guess that Yoongi was the one that told him.

Not like it was some big secret. “Nothing. He just told me to get my act together.” Punctuating your words with a quick shrug of your shoulder, extending your hand to reach for his bottle. Slipping it from his grasp and bringing it to your lips to take a few gulps of the liquor. “Ugh, that's nasty.” Never really liked the taste of beer.

“Or else?” Joon urges, reaching for his bottle again. He's taking a sip and your middle school heart flutters, thoughts of an indirect kiss flooding your thoughts. Sure not to get too ahead of yourself. “Or else, none of your business. I'm getting my work done now. You should tell Hoseok that,”

“Do you want me to?” In just a few days, you really did change at work. Had started taking the job a bit more seriously and it only had him wondering what type of trouble you could've gotten into for a change so drastic. “It'll get them off my back,” You're saying through a sigh.

Joon sees something hidden in your eyes that he's easily recognizing. Has seen the same look in his own eyes countless times before. And the way you're quick to blink it away as if you're hiding it away. So quick, like it's something that you've trained yourself to do in the past. He knew what that was like too.

“Do you like working here?” He's asking as if you hadn't made it obvious. “No, I hate it.” Your words filter through a laugh, but it doesn't quite meet your eyes.

“Why don't you go and do something else?” It takes everything in you not to laugh right in his face. As if you didn't think of the most obvious solution to your issue. Why don't you go and something else? Gee, wish you thought of that one. “You don't think I'd like that?” Not once in your entire life did you show any type of interest in music.

It wasn't for you, sure you liked to listen to it – but you didn't? All the ins and out of creating and signing artists, that part just wasn't for you. And no matter how hard you were pushed, it wouldn't ward off your resistance. “My entire life has revolved around preparing for this company. I don't know how to do anything else. You know what I'd really like to do?”

“Yeah, tell me.” He's giving you this look, you can't quite place. Like he's hanging on to your every word, actually listening to you. It has a fuzzy feeling rising in your chest. “I wanted to be an actress. Had some small roles too, but then my dad was putting a stop to it. Said it was time for me to quit playing and get serious, so naturally I didn't listen. Tried to keep doing my thing, little did I know he had planned for that, made sure that nobody would hire me.”

You could still remember the sting when you were no longer getting callbacks and agencies turning you away, all because of one phone call. No means to live on your own, so you were packing your bags and heading home to daddy. How could someone do that to their own daughter? Just to follow along with some stupid dream that wasn't even hers.

It was fucked up. As if you weren't able to control your own life, he never even let you try. “He thinks I'll grow into liking this place, but I won't! It's not what I want, I'm not good at it. Every day I want to quit. And nobody cares,” No matter how hard you tried, how much you fought. It was no use.

“I care,” The words are falling from his lips before he has a chance to stop them, but you hardly believe him. You're scoffing out a laugh, eyes rolling at his words. “I'm serious. I also wanted to apologize,”

Without thinking, you're reaching for his bottle again. “Okay,” You shrug, bringing the bottle to your lips and taking long gulps. “So, uhm. Are you close? With your dad?” He's asking softly, reaching to pull his body from your grasp.

He has way too many questions and you're not sure how you feel about it. Why was he trying to meddle into your business when he's shown no interest in talking to you before this? And why did you feel so inclined to talk to him? As if you could trust him enough to confide in him.

It's weird, but you're not in the mood to fight it. “Not at all. Hoseok's his poster child, I just happened to come along for the ride.” You're finishing up the last few sips of his beer, setting the empty bottle down onto the table. “What do you mean?”

“When he was planning to have kids, he wanted one perfect boy to follow in his footsteps... and then when he heard his wife was pregnant with twins... he thought 'great two perfect boys to follow in my footsteps,'. Not a part of him wanted a little girl,”

A hand lifts to gesture at your figure, a hushed laugh leaving your lips. “But as you can see, I am not a boy.” Joon is nodding his head, giving you this pitiful look that you want so badly to wipe off his face.

You didn't need to be pitied. “So what? He was mad because you weren't a boy?” Was it really that bad? It was easy to see that Hoseok was treated differently in terms of your father, but was that not because of how you acted? Maybe you acted the way you did for a deeper reason? There was so much he didn't know about you.

“You ask a whole lot of questions,” All done sharing, not too keen on the look on his face. You weren't some poor girl that needed sympathy, you had everything under control. Could figure it all out on your own.

Joon is moving to stand a bit closer to you, his shoulder pressed against yours. There's this unexplainable warmth to him, that closes around your entire body just from him being close. It's weird. “Why?”

“Why what?”

Letting out a huff, you're moving back to create some distance between the two of you. “Why are you curious? You've shown zero desire to talk to me, so why now?” He's moving too close the space that you've created, the corners of his mouth lifting into a smile. It's the first time you've seen the slightest resemblance of one on his face.

“I don't know... you just seem different tonight. I feel like I might've missed something.” You wonder how long it took him to come to that conclusion, always so cautious and calculated with his thought. Never really forgetting his initial impression of someone.

But it's like now he's looking past what you've worked so hard to obtain. You didn't like it one bit. “You didn't. What you see is what you get,” Body straightening, nose pointed toward the ceiling. He's letting out a laugh, obviously amused by your childish stance.

“I don't know if I believe you,” Your head lowers to look at him, eyes rolling dramatically as you lift your hand to toss your hair over your shoulder. “Well, that's your choice,” You reply, in the snobbiest tone you've ever used. “I'm going to get a drink,”

You're leaving him without another word, taking long strides down the hall. Actually, heading for the bar this time.

APIRL 25TH, 2020 | 01:23

Namjoon knows he should probably give you some space. Not that you were pissed at him or anything, but the meddling was something he knew you weren't the biggest fan of. If your sudden departure was any proof of that. He should leave you alone, let you enjoy yourself with your friends... and your boyfriend.

He should really stop thinking about you.

That's easier said than done, though. All he can do is think about you. Only half-listening to Taehyung's words, eyes scanning the crowd for you. Any sign of you and he's certain he'd be rushing to follow behind you.

There really was something different about you tonight. Something underneath the facade you kept up with. The reckless behavior, the spoiled brat act. He hadn't been able to see it before, but now he was getting peaks of your personality he failed to notice before. Bits that reminded him a lot of himself.

Stood on the other side of the room, your arms are looped in Changkyun's. You've tied your hair up into a ponytail at the top of your head, long enough that the ends are tickling your elbows. He watches as you say something to him, flashing a cute smile up in his direction before you're turning to walk out of the room.

A few minutes pass before Changkyun is making his way over to where Namjoon is seated, plopping down in the vacant spot beside Jungkook. Who has been pretty much under Jimin's spell since the start of this whole night. “Where's Yn?” Yoongi's asking as if he can read his best friend's mind.

He really had no other reason to ask.

“She's in her office. Wanted to look over a few things,” For some reason, Joon is taking that as an invitation to go to you. Standing quickly, he's catching the attention of his friends seated beside him, “I'm gonna go, uh... go to the bathroom.”

He's earning an uninterested nod just before he's able to slip away, hurried steps taken out of the room and down the hallway leading straight to your office. The door's open when he approaches, you're sat at your desk scrolling through your laptop.

Soft knocks tap against the door, catching your attention. You're surprised to see Joon standing on the other side, that awkward smile playing on his lips. He's lifting his hand up to a wave, pushing his fingers through his hair as he steps past the threshold, shutting the door behind him. “Hey. I came to see if you were okay,”

Why wouldn't you be okay? “I'm fine,” A smile that doesn't quite meet your eyes, but still lights up your whole face. “Come here, listen to this.”

He was sure that when you had left you were sad, or at least a bit unhappy. But you were fine? And you looked fine too, completely focused on locating whatever song you planned to show him. Joon moves to take a seat beside you, in the same spot he sits each and every time he's in here with you. Thighs just barely touching.

“Can I ask you another question?” Humming out your response, head tilting toward him. The suit looked good on him, it really did. Different from the baggy jeans and t-shirts he normally wears, which are just the same amount of cute. This was just different, gave a different vibe to him. You just barely miss the way he was staring back at you. It has a heat rising in your cheeks. “W-what's your question?”

His eyes flicker from your lips to your eyes, teeth cutting into his lower lip gently. It's embarrassing, he's forgotten his question. Wrapped up in his thoughts of you, the things that he had failed to notice before. “What's so fun? You know about being impulsive and doing what you want?” He finds himself asking.

Never could he imagine himself doing it, just jumping at any chance without thinking everything through. Weighing out all of the possible outcomes, yet you were doing it all of the time without a second thought.

That's not what you were expecting him to ask. Not much thought was put into the decisions you made, which was why you found yourself getting into so much trouble. You just did what you felt like and dealt with the consequences later. Sometimes not at all. “I don't know, I just do what I want.” You're saying with a shrug.

“You're so calm. And calculating. I'd love to see you do one thing without thinking...” He's looking at you in that weird way again, moving closer until your knees are touching. Dark eyes scanning over your features gaze slowly dropping to your lips. “Just one thing. Completely on impulse, first thing that pops into your-”

His lips taste like the beer he's been sipping, a delicious mix to your shots of liquor. One large hand pressed onto the back of your neck, the other clutching the fabric of your dress. You can feel your heart hammering in your chest as he pulls back from your lips, your eyes wide as you look up at him.

“Did you just kiss me?” Your entire face is on fire and it's hard to hide the grin that threatens to split your face in half. “Yeah, I have no idea why.” He looks so cute and dazed, just from kissing you.

His lips were so soft too, could be addicting if you got enough of it. “Do it again.” A pretty smile brightens his face, cheeks lifting to show off his dimples. His fingers tangling in the loose hairs at the nape of your neck, grip tightening around your waist to pull you closer.

“You want me to?”

There's not a bit of hesitation from you, lower lip jutting out into a pout. “Please,” A soft laugh leaves his lips before he's leaning forward to capture yours with his.

He kisses you as if you're made of glass, cautious in the shift of his lips. Unsure of himself, worried if he's gone too far. And you're quickly deciding, he hasn't gone far enough. Moving closer, you reach up to bury your fingers in his hair. A bold swipe of your tongue has his jaw falling slack, allowing your tongue to sliver into his mouth.

A soft groan erupts from the back of his throat as your tongue twists and pushes against his. Even the way he kisses is calculated, timed movements of his tongue the mouth. The complete opposite of your unrhythmic advances. But, still, he moans.

Out loud for your greedy ears to soak up, it's the moment you're sinking your teeth into his lower lip. All at once, his hands are dropping onto your hips, easily lifting your body up and onto his lap. Legs on either side of his hips, you can feel the bulge of his cock through the fabric of his dress pants. And the thought of getting a peek at it has your body buzzing.

He's effortlessly positioning you, slowing the movements of your lips with his own. Fingers tracing down the sides of your body, dragging over the hem of your dress. Just as he's about to inch it up, the doorknob of your office jiggles. It's barely audible, but Namjoon has this type of supersonic hearing, his body reacting instantly to the sound.

A single line of saliva connects your lips as he tears away from you, your tongue slips out to break it. His head whips around to stare at the door, turned away so fast he missed the pout of protest that from on your lips.

“Someone's trying to get in,” He's whispering, eyes going wide when he sees how close your faces are. You shrug, reaching up to knit your fingers n the hair at the nape of his neck, holding his head still before he can move too far from you. “That's fine, it's locked. They'll just go away. I want another kiss,”

Your lips are swollen from his, shiny with your shared spit. Puckered cutely, waiting for him to satisfy your request. But reality has sunk in for Namjoon, the gravity of what he was just done hitting him like a ton of bricks.

He couldn't kiss you. There were so many reasons why it's wrong, starting with the incessant knock of whoever is on the other side of the door. He could only guess it's the man you showed up with your date. Your boyfriend. Cheating was something he took very seriously and the fact you'd just do it, without a second thought. No, he couldn't kiss you. Couldn't even be involved with you aside from a professional relationship.

Your eyes flutter open with the gentle nudge on your thigh, frowning as he shoos you off his lap. He's quick to stand, just in case you've got any ideas of climbing back on. “What's wrong?” He's avoiding your gaze, fingers shoving through his hair as he searches your office for something. Positive he brought a jacket along with him. Maybe he had a hat?

No matter how hard he looked, he could feel your stare burning in the side of his face. Forcing him to answer. “Nothing's wrong. I just shouldn't have kissed you.” It bothers you to hear him say that so easily, but you're not sure why.

“You didn't want to?” He's not sure he's heard you sound any sadder. He can't help but take a peak at your face, instantly looking it away when he catches the sad pout of your lips. He couldn't feel bad for you. Your feelings weren't his responsibility. You were an adult and his boss, he shouldn't have to coddle you.

Even still, he can't bring himself to lie. Because he had wanted to kiss you, wouldn't have done it if he didn't. “I did... I'm just. I gotta go,” He's turning from you, all at once forgetting what he had been looking for. Shaking off any thoughts of looking back and checking on you, instead, he's heading straight for the door. Tugging it open and stepping back into the crowd of the party.

Changkyun is just a few feet away from the door, had given up on knocking after a few minutes. He watches as Namjoon makes a beeline from your door to the crowd, the back of his hand wiping at his lips.

You're sat slouched in front of your computer when he walks in. Fingers typing away at the screen of your phone. He's not sure what to expect from you, knowing you had just been in here with Namjoon. If you had changed your mind and decided that you'd be going home with him instead, but he still tries.

“People are starting to leave. Are you ready to go?” You're hitting him with the brightest, prettiest smile he's ever seen. Sparkly eyes dancing over his features as you stand, taking long strides over to him. It's only when you're closer does he had mistaken the wetness as your signature sparkle. Your smile doesn't quite reach them either.

He doesn't say anything, though. Allows you to pull his hand around your waist, tucking yourself into his side. Shooting him another fake smile before you're nodding, leaning up on your toes to press a soft kiss to his cheek.

“Yeah. Let's get out of here,”

— daughter of the ceo of the biggest record label, it’s obvious she’d get whatever and whoever she wants. but what happens when she’s meeting the one person that refuses to play into her spoiled brat act?

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lubdubsworld · 3 years

Text

Change of Heart ( Taehyungx OC)

Pairing : Taehyung x OC Werewolf AU!!

Genre : Romance, Explicit Content.

Warnings : None. ( Some mild violence but mostly off screen ) werewolf sex, ruts, knotting etc

Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3/ Chapter 4

[ Summary :

Times are changing.

After years of being oppressed, werewolves are taking a stand against humans , demanding equal rights and fair treatment. Heading the movement is Kim Taehyung, the breathtaking heir to the Kim fortune and one of the few remaining Alpha werewolves in the country. His disdain for the human race is well known and well warranted. They killed his family after all…..

He wants to change the world , to put humans in their place but when his five year old daughter takes a shine to their very human neighbor , maybe he has to start with a change of heart , first. ]

Chapter 5

I found myself breathing through my nose, woozy and incoherent as the doctor fussed over me.

“This is looking pretty damn bad, Dr. Jeon...” He was muttering while Jungkook sat next to me gripping my hands. My throat went dry at the words, fear making my heart jackrabbit against my ribs.

“The bullet’s hit pretty close to artery near the clavicle, she’s lost a whole lot of blood. “

“Seo Joon’s going to prison for this... “ Jungkook swore, stroking my palm as I tried to stay conscious.

“Tell me I don’t have to stay in the hospital for a long time...” I begged, desperate.

Jungkook rolled his eyes.

“You got shot... It’s not a playground scrape, Mirae....” Jungkook sounded exhausted.

I nodded.

“ Whats going on with my father? Seo Joon was pissed off about something with my father....” I said, remembering the reason the wolf had been so pissed in the first place.

“We’ll talk about this later- You need to rest and-”

“Just tell me damn it!!”

Jungkook sighed.

“Your father got called out for trying to sabotage the vaccine drive going on on the island and he played the whole, ‘ why would I sabotage something my daughter helped make...’ card on TV. It’s had an effect....”

I swallowed.

“What do you mean by effect?”

Jungkook looked a little angry now.

“Can’t we talk about this tomorrow...you’re bleeding and hurt ...you need to fucking rest...”

“What’s going on...?” I demanded.

“The weres don’t want the vaccine anymore. They think...well they think you may have tampered with it....” He looked uncomfortable and I couldn’t comprehend what I’d just heard.

I stared at him, my jaw going slack in shock.

“I’m not.... I have nothing to do with the vaccine...that is so far above my paygrade..I’m a lab tech..... what even-” I was too outraged to even think clearly.

“People don’t know that, Rae. All they know is that they have always associated your father with bringing harm to the were community and somehow his daughter is here working on something that has the potential to both hurt and heal.....”

I bit my lips.

“He’s not even my real father.” I choked out.

Jungkook looked surprised at that.

“What?”

“It’s true. He adopted me because he raped my mom and she fucking killed herself over it. I was eight years old at the time and the bastard did not want any loose ends...” The words came out , bitter and edged with anger but it was an old hurt. An old rage that had long faded into a blunt sort of ache. I had been so young. Too young to fully comprehend

Jungkook looked completely stunned.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry....”

“He wanted me to marry one of his anti-were associates . That's literally all he raised me for. When I refused , he cut me off completely. I’ve literally been on my own for years now and my job is the only thing keeping me from dying on the streets....”

I hissed when the nurse touched my shoulder , the physical agony of my shoulder somehow intensifying as the nurse moved to finish dressing the wound. I would have to wear a sling next but I couldn’t even fathom moving, let alone sitting up for that ordeal.

The nurse gave me a slight smile.

“Your ribs are bruised again , this time its going to take longer to heal because one of them actually has a hair line fracture.”

Great. That explained the woozy breathlessness.

“It doesn’t hurt much...” I said confused.

“That’s because you’re on enough drugs to fell a horse...I’m actually surprised you’re still conscious.” Jungkook shook his head.

“It’s just the adrenaline...that and the fear of being fired.” I muttered.

Jungkook laughed a little at that.

“Don’t worry about anything. Just rest for a while and we’ll talk tomorrow , yeah?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

I woke up to fingers in my hair, soft and gentle.

My eyes fluttered open and I felt my breath catch when I saw who it was.

“Yuggie ??” I croaked out, my brother’s face coming into focus as I blinked back exhaustion.

“Welcome to the land of the living...” He said softly, keeping his fingers on my hair, stroking the strands back gently.

“What..... how did you get here so soon?” I whispered.

“You’ve been out for forty hours, baby....” He laughed a little and I blinked,

“I....I got hurt.” I whispered bleakly. My shoulder was still throbbing and the pain in my rib was now a bit more prominent. I took a deep shuddering breath.

“I’m glad you’re here.... “ I whispered, lifting shaky hands to hold his face.

“Dad called me. He wants you to come back home.”

I felt my entire body going cold, hands going clammy at once.

“That’s not going to happen.” I said sharply and Yugyeom looked worried.

“He’s really upset , Rae. Kim Taehyung winning the election was not a part of his plan and he’s desperate to try and cover his ass before he gets carted off to prison.”

I blinked at that.

“what do you mean by prison?”

“We can’t talk about this here. He’s not allowed on the island. None of his cohorts are. So he’s been trying to get you transferred to a hospital in Seoul. Jeongguk was the one who called me. They’re holding off on the transfer but ....you know how dad gets.”

I felt my head pound .

“What does he want me for?” I whispered in disbelief.

“I’m not sure. But I think you should at least go see him and find out what it is that he wants.”

I shook my head .

“I’m not going anywhere near him, I’m-”

The door swung open and I found myself jerking in surprise, the movement jostling my ribs and making me wince. I felt my eyes widen when I saw who it was, fingers scrambling to grab Yugyeom .

“Dad...” He whispered, sounding terrified and I felt that familiar jolt of sickening fear .

“There she is.... my precious little one.” My father’s eyes held no emotion as he stared at me, lips curled in a perfect smile. He looked so much like a good guy that it was nauseating.

I took a deep shuddering breath.

“the management here is terrible. I had to petition the fucking courts to get a permit to visit my own daughter.” He shook his head as he made his way over and I lurched away instinctively.

“I’m taking you home now. Bout time you came back to me.” He smiled, chillingly and I shook my head.

“No...thats not going to happen. I’m an adult, you cannot force me to...”

“You are my daughter. And you will be my daughter till you live. Cha Eun woo is still single. He’s looking for a wife and you were promised to him a long, long time ago. “

“Dad.... she’s fucking hurt...she got shot like three days ago can you not do this right now...” Yugyeon had stood up, reaching out to actually shove my father away and he looked surprised for a second.

He gave Yugyeom a glare but my brother didn’t back down, towering over my father easily.

“Forgive me. I didn’t mean to sound insensitive but it just worries me that my only daughter is choosing to stay in an island full of beasts and getting mauled quite often . Isn’t this the second time you got attacked in that same cabin, by wolves?”

“that doesn’t mean you can just offer me as a gift to one of your buddies.” I hissed.

“He’s one of the richest men in Seoul....you should be on your knees thanking me for letting you so much as breathe near him.”

“Isn’t he a werewolf?” Yugyeom frowned in confusion.

My father shrugged.

“I’ve since learned that your sister has a preference for them. Well if she’s going to spread her legs for an animal, better an animal I happen to hold the leash to....” He stared down at me with calculated cruelty.

The crude words made nausea rise up in my throat and I almost dry heaved.

“You’re not pimping me out to serve your own selfish purposes.” I shook my head.

“He’s here. Outside. He’s going to stay here and he’s going to bring you back to his apartment in Seoul and you’re going to stay there with him. End of discussion. Yeom, I want you to come back to Seoul with me now. “

Yugyeom looked torn as he stared at me and I bit my lips. Yugyeom was still a kid, still in college. He couldn’t afford to antagonize my father.

“I’ll be fine. Go ahead.” I smiled.

“I’ll send Eun Woo in.... “ My father nodded at me and then sighed. “ contrary to what you think, I don’t want you to hurt. I’m offering you a good life. Marry the fellow and spend your days lounging around in luxury. Thats hardly a punishment now, is it?”

I turned my head away in disgust.

Less than two minutes after he left, I felt a hand on my arm and I jolted.

“Mi Rae ssi.... I’m Eun Woo.”

I glared at the man in front of me, barely looking at him.

“I have no interest in being your wife.”

He looked bored at my outburst.

“I have no interest in indulging your interests. Your father is paying me handsomely to take you off his hands and that's all I’m doing. If you happen to be good at taking my knot, that's just gonna be a pleasurable bonus?” He pressed a thumb to my lips, stroking the skin in an almost gentle caress. .

A knock on the door made him pull away and I glanced up, relief flooding me when I saw it was Jungkook.

“She’s going to have to rest now, Mr. Cha. Her father told me that he’s arranging her transfer to Seoul but that's going to have to wait for tomorrow at least. “ He was staring at the beta with narrowed eyes and Eun Woo bowed lightly.

He shot me one leering glance before walking out casually.

“So...fiancee huh? You’ve been holding out on me...” Jungkook whispered thoughtfully and I flinched.

“Didn’t know he existed till five minutes ago..” I muttered.

“Are you in trouble, Rae?” Jungkook looked worried and I hesitated, before shaking my head.

“I’ll be fine. I can handle him. I just hate the thought of having to leave the preserve... even if its temporary. But I don’t want to annoy my dad right now... He’s... He can be irrational and i don’t want him to take it out on the Preserve and do something harmful to the research program itself , just to be petty.”

It was exactly the kind of thing he would do, too. My shoulder still had a lot of healing to do and it was unlikely that Cha Eun Woo would actually hurt me , at least till i got better. My dad, for all his anger was still rabidly protective of what he considered his. And i was definitely high on that list.

“So you’re going then?”

I caught the hint of disappointment in Jungkook’s tone.

“Aww....is my poor Jungkookie gonna miss me? If I weren’t sporting a broken rib and a messed up shoulder, I’d definitely, at least give you a handjob…” I waggled my eyebrows.

Predictably, his eyes went wide , lips tinged fire engine red in a second.

“Wha- Shut the fuck up, noona” He whined and I laughed.

And then I sobered up when he sat next to me, linking his fingers with mine .

“I’m serious, Jungkook. I’m gonna be just fine. My dad’s upto something. If I stick close, I can at least figure out what he’s planning. I don’t want him to hurt you guys.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Right little firecracker his daughter is. So fucking pretty and man, those lips. I’d like to take a drink from that....” Cha Eun Woo gripped the shot glass hard, throwing back the whiskey with practiced ease.

Taehyung struggled to keep his features neutral.

“ Yoon Jae hyun’s daughter? From the preserve?” He had meant to sound casual but he sounded like he was being strangled.

Eun Woo hummed.

“ Yeah....Her name is... Mirin....no wait ? Lirae? Mirae? ….. whatever. Poor thing. Apparently she has a tendency to get mauled by wolves too often. She was in bad shape when i saw her. “

Taehyung felt his heart lurch at that. He had wanted nothing more than to sink his jaws into Seo Joon’s throat, when he’d heard what had happened. If it weren’t for his abysmally packed schedule he would have rushed there as soon as he could.

As it was he had talked to a few of his acquaintances who were in prison. Seo Joon was going to go to prison and he wasn’t going to be coming out alive.

“So, she just.,...agreed to marry you then?”

“Not like she had a choice. The old man is going senile. Dude really thinks he stands a chance with his whole Reform Camps proposition. Wants to put weres in concentration camps.... What the fuck, are we in the middle ages..? He also thinks that betas are naturally resentful of Alphas or some shit. Kept feeding me crap about how you alphas want to subjugate the rest of us. Of course the fucker’s feeding into my Hotels and resorts so i just nodded along and agreed to his shit. Next thing I know he’s offering me his daughter in return to me being an ally in his campaign.. Figured I’d agree. See if i could get some inside dirt on him. I know you’ve been trying to bring him down for years, Tae...” Eun Woo gave him a reassuring smile.

Taehyung felt a jolt of pride for the beta. Cha Eun woo had been a close friend of his from childhood and he knew he would never betray their kind. He had worked hard to earn his position as one of the biggest tech moguls in the country and he stayed true to his roots. Taehyung liked Eun Woo.

Admired him even....

But the idea of him touching Mirae.....

His claws nearly popped out at the mere thought of it.

“And well if I get to fuck a nice little human bitch in the process, so be it right Taeh- Fuck!! “ Eun Woo jumped when Taehyung’s claw popped right out, shattering the beer mug in his hand and spraying both of them with the frothy liquid.

“Fuck...” Taehyung groaned and to his utter horror his fangs had dropped as well, his words slurring around the lengthened canines and he felt embarrassment flood his face. . When was the last time he’d popped a fanger in the middle of a fucking conversation....not since he’d been through puberty.

“Uh...you okay, pal?” Eun Woo looked worried now, beta eyes flashing green as he stared at him and Taehyung waved him off.

“Be uh... Be careful with the daughter.” He muttered , trying to sound nonchalant.

Eun Woo just waved him off.

“Whatever , I know the type Tae. Likes a good, feral fuck from a wolf that knows how to give it to her good, you know?. Could smell her all over the alpha doctor who works there... Jungkook was it? Yeah... Girl gets around a lot, i could tell. And you can just tell that she’s going to be so fucking tight when you knot her you know, i mean human bitches always are but those hips just look like they-” Eun Woo stopped, stunned when Taehyung suddenly shoved the table away from him, hard. The older gripped the table and stood up on shaky limbs.

“ I need to get going...” Taehyung fought the urge to shift, his wolf warring inside him, snarling at him to shift and leap across the table and devour the man across from them. To lock his fangs on the beta’s throat and rip his jugular out.

He’s threatening our mate...... He’s talking about what is ours....

The voice in his head was so clear and concise that he nearly blacked out at the very force of it.

Eun Woo was saying something behind him but Taehyung was moving swiftly , stumbling to the bar where Jimin was taking one of the shifts.

“I need to go home...” Taehyung choked out. “ Call....fuck... Call my chauffeur.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Pre rut symptoms....are you fucking serious...?” Taehyung growled at the doctor taking his vitals. the man, long used to Taehyung’s intimidatingly deep voice, merely hummed. The man had been one of his father’s dearest friends. And one of Taehyung’s most trusted confidantes.

“You’re body believes you mate is around. A mate you haven’t yet claimed. It’s reacting to it.”

Next to him Ji hyun was looking disturbingly excited.

“It’s not you.” Taehyung snapped at the tall woman who recoiled in shock. Taehyung felt momentarily bad but the truth was he had been trying to break up with Ji hyun for a month now. The model was just so shamelessly clingy it was getting to him. and he most certainly did not want her around if he was going into rut.

What he wanted was a luscious, chestnut-haired human with ebony eyes and a scent like heaven.

Fuck... he was burning up and his skin felt like it was stretched thin.

“You need to leave Ji hyun. I want to talk to the doctor alone.” He demanded and the were bowed, moving out of the room quickly. Taehyung turned back to the doctor.

“So what do I do?” He demanded. “ I don’t.... my mate died two years ago. “

The doctor sighed.

“She was not your mate. I told you that already. She tricked you. She was wearing your mate’s scent but it wasn’t hers...” The doctor shook his head.

Taehyung growled.

“I fucking know that..... And I’m gonna fucking bury Yoon Jae hyun into the ground for what he did to me..... But I need to have my senses about me if I want to do that...Him and his entire drug cartel is coming down.....But. That's not gonna happen if i go into fucking rut now.. so close to me taking over office. So tell me how to fix this. “

“Who is the girl?” The doctor said casually.

“What?”

“the girl who smells like your wife. Like your mate. Who is she?”

Taehyung sighed.

“Its Yoon Jae hyun’s daughter.” He muttered.

Dr. Lee’s eyebrows shot straight up to his hairline.

“Oh no... do you think he .... again?”

Taehyung shook his head. He had distanced himself entirely from Mirae just to make sure he wasn’t being pulled into another fucking trap. But so far , from what he learned, the drug did not work on humans. There was no way a human’s scent could be manipulated to fool his wolf.

And that meant that it wasn’t a trap at all.

His wolf really did find a mate in a fucking human of all things.

God, he couldn’t believe the sheer irony of this.

“it doesn’t work on humans. It is her scent. She’s... She’s the one I want.... “ He groaned.

The doctor chuckled.

“ You mean, she’s the one your wolf wants?”

Taehyung frowned.

“Isn’t that what i said?”

“No, you said she’s the one you want and it makes me wonder.....do you perhaps....care for the girl?”

Taehyung shook his head swiftly.

“I barely know her...she...she used to look after Luna. “ He finished.

“Luna...? Interesting. “ The man’s words carried a hint of amusement and Taehyung felt his hackles rise.

“ What does that tone mean?”

“I’m just saying.... You don’t let people watch Luna that easily. You’re fiercely protective of your daughter. If you let this girl watch her, you must trust her at least.”

Taehyung sighed.

“I.. of course i trust her …. she’s a good girl. A good....person...”

“ I would suggest spending your rut with her. Claiming her if she’s interested. With you being you, I doubt she’s going to refuse.” The older man’s eyes fairly twinkled,

“I’m not knotting her when I’m on my fucking rut …” He snapped. “ I’ll likely break her in two. “

The doctor chuckled.

“It wouldn’t be a very pleasant experience for her, yes. But ….there's no reason why you can’t make it enjoyable for her. “ His tone turned gentle and more serious. “ Listen to me Taehyung-ah...… There is a reason wolves mate for life. We are not meant to be alone. If your wolf has found a mate, he’s not going to let you function till you claim her. That's just the way our body’s are built. You need to talk to her. Make some sort of arrangement. You have three weeks at the most before your rut hits and trust me you don’t want to be alone when that happens. “

Taehyung felt his insides churn at the prospect.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“No fucking shit.... You couldn’t have just told me that instead of letting me mouth off about her like that ? “ Eun Woo groaned , watching Taehyung with guilty eyes.

Taehyung brushed him off.

“It’s fine. I just.... can you just...keep her at your place till she gets better. I’m ...not in a good headspace right now and i don’t want to hurt her. she needs to recover.”

Eun Woo nodded.

“The doctor says three weeks and she’ll be fine. I’m a bit busy myself so I’ll just arrange for her brother to pick her up. Her dad’s busy meeting some suppliers. I sent the details to your men.... Did they get it?”

Taehyung nodded.

“The guy’s a bigger idiot than i thought. He’s actually met a few of these dealers himself. We just need one of them to ID him and he’s going to get locked up for life.”

Eun Woo nodded.

“Everything by the book, Tae. We stick to the laws....no bloodshed without cause and no one gets hurt. He likes to hide behind the fucking law when he’s trying to destroy our entire species , we’re gonna use that same ;law to rail him to the ground .”

Taehyung grinned.

“ Not just on the ground, Eun Woo. I’m gonna be putting him six feet under.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The recovery from my shoulder was surprisingly easy compared to the bruise on my ribs. Movement was difficult and it definitely hurt but my pain threshold had definitely gone up. It helped that Cha Eun Woo had stayed away from me and Yugyeom was on a three week break . We crashed out at his apartment and It was like being a kid again.

We spent the days lounging by the indoor pool or playing video games. Yugyeom was a great cook and he liked cooking.

Two and a half weeks after I had moved in, I was finally out of the sling. The physiotherapist visited me at the apartment and after making me move my hands well, she gave the go ahead to start my normal routine ahead.

“I still want you to take it easy. Your ribs are healed and so is your shoulder but no roughhousing.... I’m only saying that because i know how it is i when siblings live together.” She smiled and I laughed, nodding.

“I’ll make sure she’s resting well, noona.” Yugyeom said seriously.

I closed the door as the doctor left, smiling as I watched Yugyeom trip over my sling on the couch, when the doorbell rang again.

Surprised , I turned back tot he door.

“ Did you forget something, Unnie-?” I froze in shock.

Kim Taehyung stood leaning against the wall, looking like he had run all the way from his home across the city.

“Taehyung-ssi?” I stammered out, taking in the untucked shirt, sweat drenched hair and flashing red eyes .

“I’m.... I fucked up.” He whispered, eyes fluttering shut. It took me a second to realize that he was falling and instinct made throw myself under him, holding my hands out to catch him.

Pain shot straight up my shoulder as it took the entire brunt of his weight. The pain only lasted a second though, because Yugyeom was shoving me out of the way and grabbing the taller alpha by the waist.

“Holy shit....is this Kim Taehyung?” He looked awestruck as he stared at him and I felt my heart race. Taehyung seemed conscious but his breathing was raspy.

I pressed my palm against his cheek and his eyes fluttered open .

“I’m... I need you.” Taehyung growled right at me.

Yugyeom froze next to me and I felt my throat go dry.

“I... sorry?” I squeaked out.

“You...need you....under me... fuck...”

“What the fuck, Rae?” Yugyeom hissed , face turning red as he tried to maneuver the alpha werewolf to the couch .

I stayed frozen, having no idea what the fuck was going on.

Taehyung scrambled to a sitting position on the couch, gripping the cusions and he was paniting, his eyes wild as he stared right at me.

“Mine.” His voice was ten times deeper than usual, fairly vibrating with power and Yugyeom went completely still. He was shaking as he reached for me, the terror evident in his face.

“Oh, shit... Rae...is he....? Fuck , is he -” My little brother sounded terrified and I pulled him behind me.

Taehyung’s eyes flashed red again and then they shifted to my brother. His gaze narrowed and his mouth opened.

There was a split second when I knew exactly what was going to happen and I whirled around , grabbing Yugyeom and shoving him straight into the hallway leading to the front door.

“ YUGGIE, RUN!!!” I screamed with all my might, and behind me Taehyung let out a vicious growl, pouncing across the room at my brother. Yugyeom managed to avoid him by a hairsbreadth and instinct made him move faster to the door but he stopped near the door looking terrified but torn.

“ Rae...come with me,...come...”

I stared at the alpha on the floor, my heart racing.

Taehyung was clearly fighting against the wolf in him, trying to stay down, on his knees, fingers gripping the carpet to ground himself but the little growls that he let out told me that it was a fight he wasn’t winning. He looked up at me and there was so much pain and contrition in his gaze that I felt my heart break.

“I’m...sorry...” Taehyung gasped out eyes fluttering shut. He was panting harder now, fingers clenched into fists around the carpet and voice ragged. i looked up at my baby brother and he looked so young and scared that I couldn’t stand it.

“Its okay.... just go... I’ll be fine...he won’t hurt me... Just go...” I whispered desperately and Yugyeom shook his head.

“No... No... you’ve got to come with me... Rae...Noona....”

He never called me noona. I realized just how scared he was and tried to comfort him, but wary of going near him, lest Taehyung attack him again.

“Yugyeom listen to me carefully. He’s on his rut. He’s not gonna hurt me, he just thinks I’m his mate. If you stay here he’s going to see you as a threat, so you need to leave..If I come with you he will hunt us down....I’ll be fine. I can take care of myself. You just need to go.”

Yugyeom nodded, moving to the door and I turned back, feeling my stomach clench when Taehyung’s claws came out, tearing through our rug with ease.

I heard the door shut behind me and I stayed perfectly still.

Taehyung was still trembling and he finally looked up at me. Now that we were alone he was distinctly calmer.

“I shouldn’t have come here.” He rasped out.

I nodded.

“So why did you?” I asked, staring at him as he stumbled to his feet.

“You smell ....fuck you just smell like. ....like...”

“Like your wife, yes.” I muttered . “ So you want me to be stand in for your wife tonight?”

Taehyung’s eyes shot up to stare at me.

“My wife .... she worked for your father.” He choked out.

I straed at him, the blood running cold in my veins.

“What?”

“Your father hired her.... to get rid of me. She... used a drug . A drug that confuses a wolf’s senses. Makes the wolf think he’s found his mate. Wolves cannot hurt or live without their mates. Its important to us. She...She got pregnant on the night we mated and by the time I found out she was already carrying Luna and there was nothing I could do....I couldn’t...it wasn’t even a fucking bond.... I couldn’t sense her...couldn’t feel her...couldn’t muster any kind of affection for her but ... but she was carrying my baby and I just couldn’t bring myself to send her away......”

“Taehyung...” I whispered, remembering how Luna had talked about her father not liking her mother.

“Its not natural for a wolf my age to be without a mate. But ....that scent ....I... I never picked up on it with anyone else till I... “ He sighed.

“Till you met me.”

“Till I met you.”

I stared at the floor.

“I’m not.... I’m not actually in rut yet. It’s still a day or so away. i didn’t want to come here but.... I’m supposed to be taking over the office in three days. When I do, I can finally use my position to bring your father down. He is using his drug dealers and suppliers to mess with our biology and its ...something sacred to us. Wolves mate for life and to make a wolf doubt his ability to choose his mate is the worst kind of sacrilege.....”

“What do you want me to do?”

He stared at me....

“If I go into rut and I don’t have.... my mate ...it’s going to fuck me up. I don’t wanna go into the gory details but I most certainly will not be able to take over the office. ” He laughed without mirth.

There was nothing else to be said , was there?

“You have no right..... asking me to do this.....” I whispered , angry .

“I know.... I know and if you say no, I will walk out this door and you will never see me again.”

I laughed.

“I think you came here because you knew. “

He didn’t respond.

“You fucking knew I wouldn’t be able to say no to you. “

His gaze was steady as he stared at me.

“I’ll take care of you.... I won’t...this isn’t a one night stand or a no strings attached thing, Rae..... You will be mine. I’ll be yours. “

“And yet, your eyes tell me that there is nothing you hate more, than standing here asking me to be your mate......” I said bitterly.

He didn’t deny it.

“Will you come with me , then?”

I stared at his handsome face , the surreal beauty of it. And I thought of my father and how he wanted only to destroy anything that he didn’t understand. If Taehyung was going to bring my father down , I wasn’t going to be the thing that stopped him from doing it.

“Let me get my clothes.”

AUTHOR’S NOTE : IT WAS EASIER GIVING BIRTH THAN WRITING THIS FIC

just kidding i love werewolf tae. Please let me know what you thought uwu

#taehyung fics #taehyung fanfic #taehyung #taehyung smut #bts fics.bts smut #bts au #bts werewolf #taehyung werewolf au #bts fics #bts smut

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coeurdastronaute · 3 years

Text

The Cover Story, Ch. 1

Greetings! This is a preview of my first chapter that I’m posting exclusively on my patreon. If you like it, I hope you follow along as I work on it there. I appreciate your time and thoughts and would love to hear what you think.

Without further ado, or perhaps much ado about thing...

Lucy Madani was not going to cry.

That was a lie. She might cry. She wanted to cry. She was known to cry very easily, but not without reason, and there certainly were more than enough reasons already for her to tear up as she stood on the corner and felt a wave of water from a bus going through a puddle splash her legs and skirt. It was only just after eight in the morning, and she was ready to crawl back into bed, admit defeat graciously, and sleep straight through to tomorrow.

“I can’t talk right now, Baba,” Lucy muttered into her phone as she resumed her quick walk down the street.

“You are mad, and we need to talk.”

“Let me rephrase it. I don’t want to and I also can’t. I’m going to be late for my meeting.”

“Your big interview pitch. I wanted to wish you good luck, but you stormed off.”

“Yes, that is what one tends to do when their father informs them that he is getting engaged,” she fumed, her anger coming over her once again at the thought as she darted across the street, waving her hand at the honking car.

She was an adult, she tried to remind herself. A full, grown adult. An adult-adult who barely had a stable job, had heaps of student loans, and still lived with her widowed father. She didn’t throw tantrums and she wasn’t going to cry about any of it. Today was too important for that, and she was going to nail the pitch and finally move on from puff pieces for teen magazines. She was going to make the jump to serious journalist. She was going to be requested, by name.

Today she was not going to cry.

At least not on purpose.

“Will you be home for dinner?”

Luckily, he knew enough to sound sorry, though it wasn’t enough of a victory for her, only fueling the prickling behind her eyes.

“No, I’m going over Laila’s. I’ll just stay there. Wouldn’t want to interrupt your time with her.”

“Lucy joon, please talk to me. I know you’re mad-- you have your mother’s temper, but I think we should talk about this.”

“I’m going into my meeting. We’ll talk sometime this week,” she offered, shaking her head. “Just… I have to go.”

She didn’t wait for much of a reply because she knew he was playing low, dragging her mother into it. It only made it worse. Shoes sloshing against the tile of the lobby, she made her way to the elevator and decided firmly, once again, that she was not going to cry.

Her phone chimed with a handful of well wishes and good luck’s from the group chat and she thanked them quickly before trying to find the meeting information from her calendar, head down and lost in her own world as she stepped into the elevator and right into a stranger.

“I’m so sorry,” Lucy hurried, looking forward and then following the chest and then long pale neck up a few more inches to an amused smirk and eyes hidden by wayfarer sunglasses.

“Not a problem. I was in the way.”

The stranger ran her hand through a mop of curly copper hair atop her head, faded on the sides and shaggy on top, decidedly better put together than any tiktok boy’s. Her small smile pulled at bow-shaped lips and left dimples on both cheeks, and there were too many freckles to even begin counting. Lucy gulped before moving to the side and slinking to the back corner.

Of course she would get into an elevator with the hottest woman she’d ever seen. Of course she would nearly plow her over in her hurry. Of course she would be sweet and smile like that and have an adorably shaped chin and face. Of course Lucy would do all of that while looking like something the cat dragged in after a bad night.

But luck wasn’t with her today, and she was unable to hide too long, as no one else got on behind her and she heaved the heaviest sigh before looking down at her ruined stockings, spattered with mud and whatever else was festering in that puddle. Her skirt was soaked still and dripping and she was beginning to really feel it sinking into her skin. Phone clutched tightly in her hand, she felt the weight of it all and didn’t know what to do with it.

From under her brow she looked up to study the back of the stranger, their long legs and black jeans, their primly tucked in black t-shirt that stretched slightly across her shoulders, and the softest looking hair in the most beautiful shade of red she’d ever seen.

The elevator ascended approximately three floors before she started crying. Alligator tears slipped down her cheeks before she could do anything to stop them. And then the stranger cleared their throat and quietly turned around to verify what was happening, was actually happening, only making it worse.

But she didn’t say anything, just turned back around, and with the smallest movement stretched an arm forward to hold the elevator between floors, and quickly, Lucy turned herself around and faced the wall. She took a few steadying breaths and wiped her cheeks, mentally preparing to leave everything else behind and focus on the moment-- when she would be selling herself to one of the largest companies of all time to be the writer of the profile of their Director of Creative Design before they went public. She’d prepared. She was ready. Nothing else mattered and she was a goddamn adult.

The stranger, the kind, hot stranger pushed her sunglasses up into the messy curly hair and offered a smaller smile than before, the communal ‘it’ll be okay’ without saying anything. Lucy didn’t register much of it, just stared at the grey-green of her eyes, forgetting all else, and especially that she was a goddamn adult who desperately needed a payday to move out of her father’s place and away from whoever was moving into her mother’s side of the bed.

“I’m not usually,” she began, but bit her tongue because she didn’t want to lie. She was usually like this, just occasionally less muddy. “Thank you.”

“We can stay a few more minutes if you’d like. I don’t really want to go to work today.”

For the first time all day, Lucy smiled genuinely and felt lighter. It was that quick and that easy.

“It’s okay. I’m ready.”

A curt nod led to a stretch again and the elevator started once more. Lucy leaned across and pressed the button for her floor, catching a whiff of a distinctly woodsy smell, like sandalwood perhaps? There was a hit of lavender? Maybe cedar? It was wonderful. She wanted to breathe in more of it, but retreated before she was the girl who cried and sniffed people in the elevator.

The silence was oddly comfortable for a few more seconds until it dinged and she took the step out. The stranger politely held the door and offered one final smile, complete with just one dimple this time.

“Good luck,” she winked before pulling back, hands clasped loosely in front of her before the doors closed forever.

It couldn’t get better than that, Lucy decided, staring at the elevator doors and steadying herself once again. But she was hoping it couldn’t get worse either.

XXXXXXXXXXX

Quinn Sullivan wanted to die.

Not really die, but she might have taken a good coma. Just for like a week maybe. Or six months. Something long enough to beat out this hangover she was sporting, courtesy of her very thoughtful best friend, and if she was lucky, long enough to survive the offering and release of the new game. Maybe a year-long coma? Was that too much to ask for, honestly? Maybe the universe could toss her a bone, just this once, especially after the previous year of her life.

But in lieu of a swift and merciful death and/or coma, she was just going to have to survive the giant hangover that was currently attacking her body. All she needed was a quiet day and an extra large piece of leftover pizza she was certain was waiting in the staff fridge somewhere. Maybe some birthday cake--

And then a five-five wrecking ball of a human barreled into her chest.

The rest of her ride up, Quinn thought about the weird trip it’d been, and if she should have done something different. And then she beat herself up for winking. Who winked? Why did she wink? She’d never done it before. But she earned a smile from a cute girl, and there was a tiny flutter at the base of her rib cage, one she hadn’t noticed in a long, long time. She pressed her fingertips there for the rest of the ride to her floor.

With a groan, she put her sunglasses back on as the elevator dinged to her floor and took a deep breath to prepare for her day, not allowing her brain to trace out an entire life with the cute, crying stranger where they bought peaches at the farmer’s market on Saturday’s and danced in the kitchen. Romance was dead and dreaming was forbidden.

“Aspirin is already on your desk,” Jenny greeted her cheerfully. “With an egg sandwich and some fruit.”

“No leftover pizza?” Quinn didn’t pout, but she might have for that.

“Trust me, this will fix you up much better. I went to a state school, remember, MIT?”

“We partied…” Quinn trailed off as she pushed open the door to her office.

She hadn’t partied, but she was certain people had to have partied. It was college, and though it was many moons ago, she certainly couldn’t remember hangovers feeling like this. Maybe this is what almost thirty felt like. That thought didn’t help with the headache.

“All-night coding sessions don’t count. Eat the food. I’ll hold the wolves at bay as long as I can, but Chris and the Exlust team are adamant you have the meeting today to resolve story issues.”

Quinn tossed back the aspirin before she even sat down. Maybe Jenny was her universal compensation. The shades were already drawn so her normally bright office was much more tolerable. Even the eggs didn’t make her stomach swirl, and she was grateful her assistant learned something useful while studying biomedical engineering..

“I just need like an hour to work something out. I had an idea last night--”

“Before or after the sangria?”

“During. Definitely during, but still. I just need to work through it and then they can tear me to shreds. Can you add to my calendar a warning to never drink again?”

Quinn was fairly certain she’d texted her assistant that at some point in the morning. Probably before the shower, but after the first cup of coffee.

“Gladly,” Jenny smiled softly. “You doing okay? It’s been a while since you tied one on like this.”

“I’m fine. Just celebrating with Darcy. No more sad drinking, I believe was the rule you came up with and I follow all of your rules.”

With a roll of the eyes, files were placed on her desk and her assistant retreated to the ringing phones, which when the door was held open, were actual torture devices to Quinn’s brain.

“Sadie wants your afternoon free. I think it’s another reporter.”

“She’s relentless.”

“Maybe you’re impossible?”

“It’s genetic then,” Quinn sighed, munching on a grape and tugging open a notebook. “One hour, please?”

“I got you, boss.”

“Thanks.”

Never quite sure how Jenny did it, Quinn chose not to ask any questions. But when she asked for an hour, she got it. And despite the headache and laziness in her muscles, the food and aspirin did help so that by the end of her allotted time, she felt like she had captured the breakthrough that appeared to her the night before.

Before she could admire her work though, her team filed in and she was prepared to start her day, finally, even with the nagging idea of a reporter nipping at her thoughts through it all.

Somewhere between her breakfast and lunch, Quinn felt better. She fired off a few texts to see how Darcy was handling it and received only pictures of a half obscured but obviously still in bed face and chuckled to herself. It was a slower day, and she wasn’t about to waste it with a hangover. She should give Jenny a raise, she decided, because the woman could cure hangovers. Maybe submit her for the Nobel for Science.

“Sadie is here,” her assistant buzzed and Quinn lost all forms of motivation.

Her head hit her desk dramatically as the door opened and her sister walked in. Slightly shorter, but older by two years, Sadie was nearly everything Quinn could never manage to be despite her best intentions. She had the MBA from Harvard and the doting husband that came with it, a cute brownstone near White Hill and the park, and her first baby on the way. But even past her resume, Sadie Sullivan-Hawkins was personable and charismatic. She was adored and shrewd, capable of disarming anyone and eviscerating the others. It all came so easy to her, to have people around, to talk and be listened to, to be loved. She was a shark in business, and at the same time warm and put people at ease.

Quinn could barely tie her shoes and Sadie was running a marathon in life.

“Want to talk about it?” Sadie smiled as she took the seat across from Quinn’s desk.

“About what?”

“Why you’re getting drunk with Darcy on a Tuesday?”

“She got the job at Taylor and Vine. We were celebrating.”

“So not about Chloe’s announcement in the Times?”

Quinn played dumb, typing gibberish into her phone because she didn’t want to look at her sister’s kind and caring face. If she looked, then she’d have more feelings, and for the life of her, she just wanted the incessant tinnitus of the break up to disappear completely.

“Nope, I caught that this morning though, so I was in the right physical and mental place to really wallow. I don’t care about her.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard.”

“I have these notes to get done for the Shadow Operation team before our meeting with design. I’m fine. My ex can marry whoever she wants-- God knows she didn’t want to marry me. Good luck to the next sap.”

This made her sister chuckle, and Quinn smiled quietly to herself. There was still a bitterness there that she couldn’t get rid of. It was masking potentially the worst hurt imaginable. She preferred the bite of the bitter though. Easier to navigate.

“I have someone I want you to meet with.”

“Oh, fuck off Sadie,” Quinn moaned, knowing full well what was about to happen. “I’m not talking to anyone. You’re the face of this outfit. That’s what you told me.”

“You’ve run off three other reporters. Our public offering is going to underperform if there is no faith in the heart of our company,” she explained, sitting up a little straighter. “And that’s you. I might crunch the numbers and keep the lights on, but you are what people are buying.”

“Then you tell them about me. I don’t even have to be there.”

“If only that were true, my job would be a lot easier.”

At a stalemate, the sisters stared at each other for a few moments before Sadie broke, making a face as she smiled towards her lap, running her hand over the smallest bump barely showing. Quinn shook her head and looked away. Anywhere else was better than the damn disapproving look leveled at her now.

“I don’t know what to say,” Quinn finally muttered. “I don’t want to-- I can’t--”

“Chloe was an idiot. She broke your heart. Now, you barely exist, but I know that you’re still you. And we need this.”

“I can’t. I really can’t. I wish you’d get it.”

It hurt too much all over again. In a weird way, Quinn missed the feeling of the hangover because at least that was a useful ache. The dull throbbing in her chest and bones just felt hollow and haunting.

“We have a meeting with her. I’ve already walked her through the contracts and final edits, as well as shown her around. Please just rip the bandaid off and get it over with. She’s good. I’ve read a few of her pieces and Donna recommended her to me.”

Sadie had their mother’s eyes. It drove Quinn crazy, that she looked like she didn’t belong in her own family. It also meant it felt like her mom was staring at her and reminding her to do her chores. She rubbed the back of her neck, letting her head lull to the side.

“I’ll… I’ll try.”

“Yes! I knew it. Thank you. Seriously, Q. It’s going to be great. This is going to--”

“I said I’ll try. I didn’t say I’d do it.”

“It’ll be great,” Sadie ignored the warning, hopping up from her chair and moving to the door to beckon the reporter in. “Come in and meet the genius of the whole outfit.”

Quinn rubbed her face with her hands, digging her fingers into the corners of her eyes under her glasses before steadying herself. She could do it for her sister, she reminded herself, and that stupid niece or nephew she was incubating.

Maybe it would be as simple as ripping off a band-aid. Maybe she could just let a stranger rifle through her entire life and being, except that she wasn’t sure there was anything there anymore. Everything felt like she was going through the motions, and it was terrifying to Quinn to let someone see that she was barely stitched together. How could she explain that there was nothing behind door number one? Let alone number two or number three.

“Quinn, this is Lucy Madani. She’s a freelancer hired by New York Magazine. She did a great piece on the Attorney General last month and her article on the director who went on to win Cannes went viral.”

There was still mud on her skirt, but her stockings had been disbanded, gone forever, but it was unmistakable the stranger from the elevator standing in her office. That felt like an entire lifetime ago, and yet Quinn tried to swallow.

“You have longer hair, in the pictures I found of you online,” Lucy offered, overcoming her surprise much quicker. She stuck out her hand over Quinn’s desk and waited for her to shake it.

She was a reporter. A reporter who cried in the elevator. A reporter Quinn had, if she were being honest, checked out. But foremost, she was a reporter. She wanted to dive into the deepest parts of Quinn’s brain for profit, mutual benefit and all. It sounded dreadful.

The universe did not owe her anything, Quinn remembered, but the perpetual mocking was getting a little over the top.

“Quinn Sullivan,” she shook the hand presented and tried to breathe. Lucy’s hand was warm and felt soft. She wasn’t sure how to let go. “How’s it going?”

Fuck! Her mind blared as she dropped the reporter’s hand and mentally beat herself to a pulp. Who talked like that? And still, she could not answer, winked?

“It’s been a day,” she smiled, nodding to herself as she accepted the seat Quinn offered. “Your sister has sung your praises all morning though. I feel like I could write about your without even meeting you.”

“Great. Let’s do that.”

Sadie laughed but gave Quinn a stern look.

“I’m going to go grab you some passes and copies of the contracts,” Sadie smiled graciously at Lucy before turning to her sister. “Listen to her pitch.”

“Seems it’s been decided,” she muttered to herself before plastering on a smile.

“Don’t have too much fun. I’ll be right back.”

And with that she truly was gone, and Quinn was left in her office with the reporter who had pretty eyes. They felt like syrup-- warm and deep brown, gooey and sticky. Her face was longer, her nose thin and long, her lips full and bitten-- and Quinn snapped herself out of her perusal and felt her chest warm too much. No, the universe didn’t owe her anything, and the punishment for thinking it did was sitting across from her in a muddy skirt and gentle smile.

For just a moment, Quinn held her breath and willed a coma..

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angelguk · 3 years

Text

this prompt: jock!jaykay and namjoon running into each other at a party or sth and namjoon being like ‘you finally grow a pair and ask oc out yet?’ and jks just like 😧 and joons like ‘seriously dude? 😑 i’ve been waiting for you to ask her out since before i even dated her’. but make it more angst!!! namjoon is kind of an asshole here. there’s smoking, drinking and jk getting a brief lapdance. oc is a LIAR. jaykay deep in his feels tbh. roughly 1.5k. listen to all i wanted by paramore

Jeongguk's crossed too many paths with people during his life to remember every face his eyes have ever seen. But there’s one he will never forget, no matter how hard he tries to scrub the memory from his brain, ignore the muted forlorn twang in his heart, the low ache that ebbs from the base of his skull. It sparks up again despite years of never seeing the individual who caused the problem. How could he forget those broad shoulders? The sharp analytic eyes. The man whom you’d attached yourself too for a good chunk of your joint high school careers. It surprises him, honestly, because Jeongguk’s got a girl grinding on his lap but his eyes are locked on Namjoon, ears trailing after the sound of his deep laugh instead of the sweet nothings Nayeon (or Naeun, or Nayoung — he can’t fucking remember) is murmuring into the hollow of his neck.

For one, he’s fucked out of his mind. Taehyung probably laced the joint; he liked doing that shit even when it messed up Jeongguk’s trip. He should have known not to take a hit, but he was already ten shots in and nothing sounded better than smoke in his lungs. Maybe not nothing. This girl feels good in his hands, responds to the lightest of his touches, moans in his ear like she wants him to fuck her.

He could. He has before. Probably. She knows exactly where to nip his neck for this to have not been a repeat hook-up. But in the haze of the low living room lights and the spinning headiness of the drinks he’d downed, he couldn’t make out her face. It’d shift and twist and turn into an image that almost makes him want to cry because, at some angles, when the shadows form right, he thinks he can see your face. It could be you in his lap, you whimpering whenever your crotches aligned just right, you clinging to him like the sun hangs onto the evening sky.

But it’s not.

And for some unfathomable reason, Jeongguk’s ruined mind recognises that sucks.

Because it should be you.

He doesn’t know how he gets that girl off. Probably some lie that he needed to pee. In reality, he needed to breathe, because those thoughts surface with malicious intent, purposefully drawing him closer to deep dangerous waters. If he’s not careful he could easily drown, suffocated by desires he can’t even string together into a comprehensible sentence.

The night air hits sharp, seeping through his loose shirt. It grounds him enough for his steps to stabilise, feet following a slow trudge to the edge of the balcony. He doesn’t even know whose house this is. Somebody he’s probably never met honestly. But he wanted you to come. Everyone was coming out tonight. Even your elusive roommate Sohee was somewhere in some bathroom with a head between her thighs. You probably are doing that too, to be far. Even the name evokes bile from his throat, bitter and violent, full of jealousy he’d never really learnt to contain.

Lee Eunwoo. A graphic design major. Slightly taller than Jeongguk (only when Jeongguk is having a bad day) and somehow he can make you giggle like he’s getting paid for it.

You’d mentioned it so softly that Jeongguk didn’t even hear it at first. But then your cheeks had heated up, that stupid sparkle melting through your gaze. You wanted to spend the night with him, take advantage of an empty apartment, perhaps watch a movie or two.

It's obvious that you were going to sleep with him. The thought itself irked something visceral inside of Jeongguk. But he’d given you an easy smile, laughed at the modesty of your demeanour and wished you well with a tight hug. The same low buzzing of frustration that he got when you were with Namjoon was already waning through his system as he completed his sets at the gym with more force than needed.

Which is why he can’t help but release a bitter laugh into the night. Ironically, Namjoon was here while you were getting your back blown out by another idiotic guy Jeongguk did not like.

“What’s so funny?”

He can’t spin around to face him, Jeongguk knows he’ll throw up if he does. But he can’t forget a timbre like that. Not when you nearly wrote a poem about how wonderful Kim Namjoon’s voice was. A poem which you recited to Jeongguk before he begged you to rip it to shreds and never talk about again.

(Subconsciously Jeongguk had adopted a deeper voice whenever he talked to you since then. It came out more when he was drunk, but it’s not like you paid any attention anyway).

“Nothing,” he returns. He hopes Namjoon gets the hint and goes away. The bastard joins him on the balcony instead.

“No, seriously, what’s funny? You look like you’ve got a lot going on in your head.” Namjoon was always so concerned in talking about emotions and putting your feelings into words. It’s one of the reasons why you loved him and probably reason one thousand why Jeongguk hated him.

“Hello to you too, Kim Namjoon. Don’t you think we should catch up on the pleasantries before you start psychoanalysing me?” He retorts, forcing his gaze onto the other man. Namjoon looks good; golden skin, broad shoulders and his hair cropped short. There’s an ease to him that Jeongguk could never replicate no matter how hard he tried. Perhaps that’s what happens when you’re born sure of yourself. Like Namjoon was.

The laugh he receives is empty. Namjoon is busy rifling through his pockets, fingers emerging with a joint and a lighter. “Nice to see you too, Jeon. Didn’t think I’d ever bump into you after high school but the universe works in mysterious ways, doesn’t it?” The jay slips between his lips, followed by a swift flick of the lighter before a deep inhale that Jeongguk swears he feels in his lungs. The smoke floats out pretty, fading into wisps of nothing but grey as the breeze sweeps it away. Namjoon offers it cordially, a simple raise of his defined eyebrows and even though Jeongguk’s legs are melting through the floor he can’t say no.

“You sure?” The doubt tinting his tone makes him take it. His overestimation in his maintenance capabilities leads to a rather rough inhale, and an even worse hacking cough that he wants to be mortified at because Namjoon fucking laughs. But he can’t when the world feels like air in his fingertips, slowly slipping away. Almost like you feel at times.

“You should stop taking the shit Taehyung rolls. I don’t even know what he slips in there but last time I smoked with him I thought I was on Mars.”

“Taehyung offers, I never ask.”

“You never ask for anything to be frank.”

“What?”

“You heard me,” Namjoon returns, smoke falling from his lips.

“Yeah, I fucking did. I was giving you the chance to pretend you didn’t say it.” Jeongguk’s all in his space in an instant, the itch to smash Namjoon’s face tingling beneath his skin. Namjoon doesn’t even back up, gracing Jeongguk with a quizzical look that leaves him bewildered. “You don’t fucking know me—"

“I do.” There’s a scoff that riles him up even further. Namjoon’s still incredibly unbothered as he talks. “You think being Y/N’s boyfriend I didn’t hear everything and anything about you? Jeongguk this! Jeongguk that! You know that’s the reason we broke up, right?”

That halts him, a lag in his brain as he attempts to process the words leaving Namjoon’s mouth. The older man just stares at him, the sigh that drifts in between them bordering on pity.

“She didn’t tell you that, did she? Y/N lies about a lot more things than you think, Jeon. Where is she by the way? I’ve seen all her friends but I haven’t seen her.”

“Why would you know her friends?” It’s a stupid question but in the jumble of his thoughts it’s the only thing his mind is capable of plucking out. A question that doesn’t leave him bare and vulnerable like the other one’s racing through his head.

“We don’t have each other blocked on everything. Sometimes we talk,” Namjoon supplies easily. And just like that Jeongguk crumbles. He’s not even aware of it but the first crack spears deep enough to leave the rest of him unstable, wavering as he falters away from Namjoon. You never told him any of this. As far as Jeongguk knew you ended the relationship hating him (a thought that briefly consoled Jeongguk if he’s being truthful). But apparently, you felt comfortable enough to share your life with the person Jeongguk thought hurt you the most.

“Man, fuck you.” It’s a release, to say it. Because honestly fuck Kim Namjoon. In the span of a few short sentences he’s tipped everything he’s ever been sure of upside-down, stomped on Jeongguk’s heart like it was bendable and ducked his head right into the ocean he was afraid of diving it, keeping it under until the water filled his lungs and Jeongguk ceased to function.

Namjoon shrugs, not even looking as Jeongguk stumbles back to the door. He needs to find you, ask how much of Namjoon’s words were true. He doesn’t care if Eunwoo is over he’ll kick him out if need be.

But then Namjoon opens his mouth one more time, the final nail in the coffin.

“You should have asked her out. I was waiting for you to it — she was probably waiting too.”

#jungkook x reader #jungkook angst #yeah yeah this is bad but um! i tired #sorry i took away the wholesome couple trope... i think jj oc and jk have shit to work out tbh #au: jock!jaykay #thank u for the prompt annonie!!#bts x reader #bts angst

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maplecornia · 3 years

Text

Chapter 4

𝔴𝔬𝔯𝔡 𝔠𝔬𝔲𝔫𝔱: 3.06K

𝔰𝔲𝔪𝔪𝔞𝔯𝔶: You watched them from the sidelines ever since you were a young teenage girl. Now you’re grown up, they’ve returned after 2 long years and everything has changed. What happens when you pull back the mask and find the darkness within? What happens when you see that they’re broken?

𝔞/𝔫: this one is literally just revolving around one of the BTS members. i don't really have much else to say other than HYUNJIN'S BACK and I'm crying.

tags: @kookaine | @fangirl125reader | @kookiebbyxx | @taradevonne

Kim Namjoon never imagined he would lose his assistant.

JaeJin was a great worker and a great friend. He loved music and expressed it through his very soul, his every move whenever he danced or helped Namjoon produce a song. Namjoon smiles as his hand hovers over the soundboard.

In the back of his mind, he remembers the days spent here ever since Jaejin was promoted to his assistant. He remembers the first time he met his dear friend, how nervous Jaejin looked, unspoken excitement reverberating off of him in waves.

As Namjoon pushes up the volume on the soundboard, he thinks back to the moments spent as Jae learned how to be his assistant, as Namjoon taught him as much as he could. How what started as respect turned into a mutual friendship, and later, a brotherhood.

Though Namjoon is sad to see JaeJin go, he is happy to see his dream accomplished. He will miss Jae's smile, his laugh, and his good heart, but he knows that just because Jaejin is taking a different path doesn't mean they will cease to be friends.

As soon as Joon finishes a part of his song, he sighs, pulling away from the board and whipping out his phone.

He doesn’t know why he started thinking about him all of a sudden, he was one of the first people to know that Jae was leaving. Besides, he would see him soon, it’s not like Jaejin leaving for a couple of months means that he won’t ever see him again.

Standing, RM walks out of the room, leaving Suga to continue by himself.

He's lucky that Yoongi has his headphones on. If he caught Namjoon slacking he wouldn't get off easy. Carefully, RM exits the room, shutting the door softly behind him as he leans against the wall next to the door to the studio. Turning his phone on, he checks the time, his heart thumping slightly.

8:30 am.

Perhaps the reason his mind is so full of nostalgic memories is that he’s been waiting since last night to meet his new manager.

Jaejin said that his replacement should show up around this time, but he hasn't given much information other than that. Namjoon pockets his phone and heads down the hallway towards the front lobby.

Staff members pass by him, some working for TxT, others for the new girl group they put together about 3 years ago, and even more for the new boy group that BigHit began putting together in 2020.

Namjoon finds their presence surreal.

The members of BTS's staff have been around ever since their debut, and even more, have joined the crew over the years. These staff members will no doubt do the same for their groups, maybe stick around till the very end.

If anyone asked Namjoon's opinion, he would say it was the staff that had to do the real work. And all from behind the scenes. They are the ones who help them put on a great show. They are the ones who tutor them, provide for them, allow them to create their vision, their masterpiece. They are the stitches behind the fabric.

To Namjoon, BTS is just the face. The whole idea of them, of their message, was created through everyone's effort. Including ARMY, including their staff, including BTS themselves.

Losing one of their members would be like trying to fill a hole that cannot be filled.

Perhaps that's why Namjoon is so worried about Jaejin's replacement.

No one can truly replace him.

Namjoon never wanted a new manager.

There was a reason he chose Jaejin out of all the others, a reason he turned a backup dancer into his manager. He needs someone with the same passion, the same grit, the same determination that he has. Jaejin had that, and more. He was able to keep up with Namjoon’s crazy schedule, his unhealthy habits, his tendency to overwork himself.

Normally it was Suga trying to keep up with him, trying to help him, trying to do the best for him, but when he met Jaejin, he found exactly what he needed in a manager.

Will his replacement be able to do the same?

Entering the lobby, he knocks on the counter, where a receptionist is taking a call. She looks up at his knock and he smiles at her, receiving the usual smile back and a slight blush on her cheeks.

After a moment of their little staring contest, Namjoon grows impatient. He indicates silently that he’s waiting to speak with her and her eyes widen in realization. She nods sheepishly at his signal, holding up one finger to signify to him that she'll talk to him in a second. He complies, settling in as she continues her call, faintly aware of Kim Namjoon behind her.

Namjoon is never sure how to feel about these types of things.

People recognizing him in the street, others noticing him even with a disguise, he doesn't know what to do with the attention.

Why didn't people pay attention to him before? When he didn't have all the makeup, the money, and the influence? Are they looking at him because they appreciate who he is as a person?

Or because he is Kim Namjoon?

RM of BTS.

Putting the thought out of his mind, he turns his back to the receptionist, unlocking his phone, and opening the chat with Jaejin. He doesn't see any sign of his replacement, but then again, how would Namjoon know what she looks like?

Hey

YOUNG APPRENTICE- oh hi, what’s up hyung?

When was your replacement supposed to be here again?

YOUNG APPRENTICE- ummmmm, 8:00 am or so, why?

RM pulls away from his phone, looking around for any sign of a girl who looks lost or out of place in the lobby. Every time Jaejin talked about this so-called friend, he referred to them as a “she” so the only thing Namjoon knows about this new manager is the fact that she’s female.

Sadly, as he desperately scours the lobby, there's no sign of anyone there that fits the description. The one girl who was waiting in the waiting area has just been called aside and led to a meeting room. Namjoon, a little worried, bites his lip before a buzz in his hands causes him to glance at his phone.

YOUNG APPRENTICE- Namjoon?

Yeah?

I’m sorry it’s just….she’s not here yet

YOUNG APPRENTICE- WHAT

Namjoon rolls his eyes playfully at Jae's reaction before walking out of the lobby. If she's not here, there's no need to hang around, and it doesn't seem as though the receptionist is paying much attention anyway.

As he leaves, the receptionist stares after him almost hopelessly, Namjoon oblivious to the longing gaze.

He glances at his phone once more maneuvering his way through the hallways of the building.

YOUNG APPRENTICE- are you sure?

YOUNG APPRENTICE- I'm gonna murder her

Well I can’t know for sure

Could I have a picture or maybe a name?

YOUNG APPRENTICE- I never gave you one?

Not to my knowledge

YOUNG APPRENTICE- oh I am so sorry hyung! Her name is Lin Yen and just give me a minute and I'll find you a picture

"Lin...Yen...." Namjoon murmurs, pondering it in his mind.

"Just who exactly are you?" he whispers, putting the phone down once more as he comes to a stop in a corner of the hallway.

Yen...he repeats in his mind, playing around with it, trying to see how it sounds on his tongue, how it feels circling in his thoughts, how it plays on his voice.

It's a beautiful name, one he hasn't heard often, and for some reason, he feels as though it's foreign. Another vibration from his phone jolts him out of his pondering thoughts, and he looks down at the screen, immediately bursting out laughing.

Jaejin has sent the picture of you, but it's not just any picture.

It's a picture of you eating salad.

But that's not what makes it so funny.

You and Jaejin are at a Korean BBQ in the picture, and you hold the signature salad bowl up to your face, your chopsticks hooked around an enormous bite. You're shoving the bite into your mouth, your cheeks puffed up like chipmunks, your eyes wide and nose pinched.

Your expression, your face, the fact that you're attempting to shove a huge bite into your mouth, everything about the picture is hilarious, and Namjoon can't stop looking at it.

He can't stop looking at you.

Now he is sure that you are a foreigner, with that complexion and your facial features. You aren't necessarily tall, but not super short either. Then again, Namjoon doesn't think that Park Jimin is short, so what does he know?

One thing is for sure, though…

You are beautiful.

And it’s not only the physical things that make you beautiful, though they are a contributing factor.

It’s the personality.

The charisma that exuberates off of you, managing to touch him most charmingly through a mere photo. The way you smile, how it lights up your eyes. The blush of your cheeks, and even the color of your hair. Everything about you has captured his attention, and he can't look away.

His smile doesn't want to fade, so he covers his face with his hand, leaning against the wall. No doubt he looks like an idiot, but he doesn't care.

You have that gift.

The natural gift of familiarity when you are less than strangers.

And it has surprised him. The cool, calm, professional, wise Namjoon wouldn't have thought that such a thing could reach his heart...and yet he can't stop smiling.

"Namjoon."

Startled, the smile fading just as quickly as it began, Namjoon jumps, his phone slipping out of his grip. Frantic, and a bit embarrassed, he fumbles to catch it before it falls, but to no avail.

He watches in hopeless despair as the phone hits the ground with a sickening thud, the screen immediately cracking at the impact of the harsh tiled floor.

Namjoon lets out a groan, while a slender, pale hand reaches out and picks it up. Wincing, he glances to his side.

Where Min Yoongi holds his phone in between his fingers as though it were a dirty piece of trash; looking unamused. Glaring at him with a stare as cold as ice, he drops it into RM’s hands before folding his arms across his chest. Namjoon rolls his eyes at his luck, sighing inwardly.

He doesn't look too happy.

"Hey, Yoongi, I--"

"Yes, please explain, Kim Namjoon." Yoongi drawls, his voice monotone and sending shivers down Namjoon’s spine. Almost shamefully, Namjoon turns off his phone and slides it back into his pocket, avoiding that icy stare.

"You're supposed to be helping, yet you left for what? To laugh at memes? Now is not the time to be fooling around with Jackson for heaven's sakes!” Though Yoongi doesn’t raise his voice, the severity of his tone is enough to make it seem as though he has and Namjoon has to restrain himself from visibly flinching away from him. After a moment of silence, Suga sighs, rubbing his temple with frustration. “Why are you so distracted today?"

Joon has been asking himself the same question.

"For one thing, they weren't memes and I wasn’t talking to Jackson. It was a picture of Jaejin's replacement. I was trying to see if she's arrived yet." He explains, a bit indignantly, before walking away towards the studio once more, hoping to escape the conversation.

He should have remembered that nothing escapes Yoongi.

"And did she?" Suga follows Namjoon, managing to walk fast enough to catch up with him and yet still look nonchalant and unbothered. RM sighs at the question, speeding up his pace, as he notices the studio door in the distance.

Jumping at the opportunity, Namjoon makes a break for the door, Yoongi calling after him in surprise. He reaches it, leaving Suga behind in the dust. Opening the door he sinks into a chair as though it were a refuge from the uncomfortable situation he found himself in. As Yoongi comes to a stop in front of the door, Namjoon acts as though he were there the entire time.

"Do you need something?" he asks innocently, and Yoongi rolls his eyes, walking in and closing the door behind him before settling into a chair of his own.

"Yes. I need you to focus on this project. This is important, and is nowhere near done if it's going to be our next title track." He murmurs, immediately setting to work, his mouse echoing in the silence. Biting his bottom lip in guilt, RM turns back to his phone, frowning a bit at the sight of the cracked screen.

Yoongi is right, Namjoon knows this.

They dedicated this day to work on BTS’s new title song.

Namjoon especially wanted Yoongi to produce it because of his incredible skill and work ethic. He practically begged him to take time off from his other projects to work on this with him, Yoongi is sacrificing a lot of his time just to be here.

Namjoon knows how important time can be.

It doesn’t help matters considering how this song is so essential to their comeback album. Promotion is still far off, but it doesn't change the circumstances. ARMY waited for them for so long to come back to them, it’s only fair that they give them the most groundbreaking album they can.

But RM can't focus.

And it’s for such a stupid reason.

Just because Jaejin is gone doesn't mean the world will fall apart.

He knows this, it's just...

Namjoon smiles a bit bitterly, turning back to the booth as he resumes his work once more.

"She wasn't there." Suga turns to Namjoon at the sound of his voice. Namjoon notices but doesn't pay any mind, continuing to play with the soundboard, creating his type of spell, his sort of magic. "In response to your question."

Yoongi doesn't respond, waiting for Namjoon to finish. That's the way he is, sometimes RM can’t finish a thought in one sentence and it takes him a moment to piece things together, what with everything else running through that expansive mind of his. Suga knows when to wait, when to stay silent, and allow RM a chance to tell him everything he needs to.

He's no stranger to listening to people, especially when it comes to Namjoon.

Sometimes, Joon just needs to let something out without anyone saying anything, and Yoongi won't say anything unless he feels it's necessary. He’ll listen, and be there for anyone to lean on, able to offer them the emotional support they need to carry on.

"I'm sorry, I guess I'm a little nervous to meet her." After a moment, Yoongi responds to him, his soft voice carrying across the room in a comforting murmur.

"What's the big deal? If she's professional, she'll be perfect. I'm sure there's nothing to be worried about." He reassures him. RM nods, trying to concentrate once more, and put the thought of your arrival to the back of his mind.

Maybe Yoongi is right, maybe there is nothing to be worried about.

However, Namjoon can't help but think that your arrival will change their lives.

And who knows if it'll be for the better?

𝔫𝔬𝔱𝔢: how are you guys liking Jaejin now? lol

chapter 5 here

check the Infinite Stars masterlist for more chapters

check my BTS masterlist for other BTS content

check out my masterlist for other kpop fanfics

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shesawriter39049 · 3 years

Text

|Breakdown’s & Bugatti’s| M|

PAIRING: Namjoon x Reader (Ft a hint of Tae & Jin)

About- Namjoon just does what he has to do to keep you ....calm while at a charity gala!

OR:

CHAPTER 1 : MEET THE KIMS OF NEW YORK

**WARNINGS: **Semi public sex, Fingering (F receiving), Minimal prep, Light dirty talk, Light spit play, Choking, Spanking, Gags (Makeshift), Non protective sex (Creampie), light overstimulation

WC: 7K (This is a sneak peak so it’s 1.2k)

NON SEXUAL WARNINGS: (Fictional political background) Hints at recreational drug use (Molly) Brief mentions of death, father issues, and panic attacks/anxiety (All of these topics are super minor but again, out of respect I’m mentioning them)

The remaining “characters” will be introduced at a later date

This chapter hints at various future plots

This is almost 2 years old, I reworked it recently

If you’ve been following me for a while this is the original draft for “Club First Royale”

FINAL NOTE: I haven’t been active in damn hear a year ( 8 months) So I am posting sneak peeks intentionally! No, not to torture you guys lol but to get my blog flowing again because I’m sure people aren’t really checking in anymore

OT7 ALTERNATING STORYLINES

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

FINALLY, fuck 36737 years later you spot your Kim!

Standing there in all his glory, in a Valentino slim fit navy blue suit, the jacket appearing to have some sort of paisley print, opting against a tie. Leaving his crisp white dress shirt slightly unbuttoned, teasing at his broad carnalized chest as he makes his way from the bar. Heading over to the table, which has an empty seat waiting right beside him with your name written all over it...literally!

Purposely dodging the old lady to your left in a coat that would have PETA ready to throw hands! Gaudy diamonds, terrible Botox, and smelled as if she showered in an entire bottle Chanel No. 5!

Yeah, no, sorry, not in the mood for another meet and greet right now!

“Joonie” Squeals from your lips once you’re in close enough proximity, his dark piercing eyes cut over to meet yours. A playful smirk tugging on those sinfully thick lips of his, accompanied by those disrespectful ass dimples!

“There she is!” Eyes dripping with warmth, as he ushered you in with open arms ,and in these types of situations, Namjoon felt like home, he was your safe space. “You look fuckin good” The words hushed into your hair in a tenor meant for your ears and your ears only! A hint of something a little more than just friendly playing on his tongue.

A small little “Thank you” leaves your lips, and if I didn't know any better I’d think the compliment made you a little flustered.

Namjoon was the definition of Ocean arm’s and goddamn if you didn't just love how big this man was! It literally felt like he was hiding you from the entire universe when he has you nuzzled into his frame! The whole interaction couldn't have lasted longer than 20 seconds in all actuality but god you needed it!

Face flush to his chest, wrapping your arms firm around his waist, letting your eyes flutter shut briefly, a deep slow exhale flooded through your body. Inhaling the musky yet sweet scent of his cologne mixed with his natural aroma, which has grown to become a calming mechanism over the years.

“You had me worried for a minute…” Placing a quick kiss in your hair, that you would have missed if you blinked but again, your in public soo...

Palms soothing up and down your back gently, as he breathed into your hair , pulling back a little so there was some form of personal space between the two of you.

“Your late, even for you princess...I know you started early, I got your live(Instagram) notification, so what happened?” Head clocked to the side as he appraises you and fuck, the bass in his voice still has you all types of fucked up! Glancing over your shoulder briefly before leaning up to place a kiss on the hinge of his jaw, that tittered the line of passing as an “innocent” greeting.

“I’m fine Jonnie it’s nothing, we just got held up in glam.., Ariel was flying in from Miami...we got a late start” Gaze intentionally diverted as you welcomed yourself to his glass of Scotch instead. Damn near inhaling the entire drink as we speak and you hated dark liquor so that alone let him know something was up!

Merely resisting the urge to smooth out the crease he felt forming between his brows, a dry snort left his lips, rolling his eyes in response to your blatant stubbornness. Nevertheless, always the gentleman, reaching down to pull out your chair so you could take a seat next to him. Mirroring your actions just moments prior, quickly scoping out his surroundings before he brought those plush pillows he calls lips a centimeter away from your ear.

Fuck.

“Right, so I'm just going to assume you don’t wanna talk about it right now! Or wait I’m sorry, have you just upgraded to insulting my intelligence straight to my damn face?”

Brow quirked inquisitively, and you could literally feel every word, tone taking on a hint of seriousness the more he talked. Namjoon licked his lips and the tip skimmed the edge of your ear and I - .

“For one you smell like an entire bottle of Heidsieck, I can almost taste the nicotine on your tongue and you've been crying I know you. ”

Pulling back just enough to glare down at you above the brim of his glasses, which he always wore low along his bridge. Eyes daring you to look him in the face a lie again, teasing his fingers through his chocolate locks. Styled in the perfect semi grown out undercut, the top a little on the long side, while the sides tapered into a crisp fade. Sideburns outlining that extremely understated jawline of his! Though you had to admit the yellow gold diamonds dawning his ears were kinda stealing the show right now!

“So again, do you just not wanna talk about it right now? Or have you forgotten that I have an IQ of 137, and can smell bullshit from here all the way to Gangnam!?”

You're having very vivid day daydreams of your hand wrapped around this man's windpipe and for once it’s not even remotely sexual!

Blatantly ignoring the strong twitch within Namjoon’s jaw and simply saying “I’m here, aren’t I!?” Face stoic, tone flat as all hell, in case it wasn’t clear that this conversation was more than over, you opted to eye his bourbon glazed salmon until he got the hint.

“Oh, for fucks sake! ” Hissed from his lips without a lick of heat behind them, because as quiet as it’s kept ,your lowkey Joon’s baby, which is why he cares to begin with! Picking up a piece on his fork before essentially shoving it into your hand ”Your lucky I can’t have your ass getting sick on me tonight, we still have like, 3 hours left of this bullshit.”

More like he just can’t tell you no, but hey, whatever helps him sleep at night! Sliding his plate in your direction, completely giving up on eating at this point, he knew you needed it more anyway! Finally, starting to feel your mix of poisons hit your system so you knew you needed to even it out with a little substance. I mean yeah, you could have just ordered your own plate but meh, this was easier!

Namjoon started busying himself on his phone while you ate, scrolling through a couple contacts until he landed on a contact labeled under “Kookie”.

“Even though you were only late because “Your glam team ran late” There were air bunnies involved, and again you just really wanna choke his ass! “What are you thinking tonight? He’s actually on his way here right now, but he already has a couple options on him...”

The question was vague and for damn good reason...considering…

However you knew exactly what he was referring too.., and thank god!

Speaking over a mouth full of salmon, sounding utterly exasperated! “Honestly, any fucking thing at this point…”

Namjoon hums thoughtfully, sucking on a Bourbon soaked Ice cube “He’ll be here in 20, I just went with Smartees…always a safe bet...”

Smartees, candy, Vitamin -E, Molly... Estcasy...it’s all one and the same, just depends on who you ask!

He leans back in, apparently keen on whispering tonight. “Maybe, if your a good girl and eat enough we can split one before we leave...chill you out a little bit. '' Voice thick and heady, lips curling into a grin with a hint of something wicked playing on the ends, as his fingers idly ghost over your forearm. Giving it a light squeeze and regardless of how innocent the skin-ship may seem to the naked eye, you’re well aware of all the underlying innuendos behind it!

You make a noise of agreement, trying your damnedest to ignore the slight chill coursing up your spine at the pet name. Though before you could even dwell, Namjoon was sliding back in with another update, this one however wasn't as...arousing…to say the least!

“Fox 2’s been waiting for you to get here by the way...since the event was put together by council and all. They've been wanting to talk to us together about the fundraiser, just the same shit as last year.”

Waving his hand dismissively idly twirling the various pieces of Bvlgari around his fingers, seemingly un-phased while you on the other hand...release the most exasperated huff! Reclining against your seat, eyes rolling to the back of your head in 30 different directions! Yeah, It comes with the territory, you know this, hints Namjoons reaction, or lack thereof! But fuck you just really weren’t in the mood to do press tonight, It’s literally physically exhausting to pretend that you weren’t just PISSED!

“Of -fuckin- course they do!” Stabbing your mashed potatoes in a way that's... somewhat concerning…

“Baby.” It was a warning, though his voice sat barley above a whisper, his tone was crystal! Eyes cutting in your direction briefly before dropping back down to his phone….

You didn't have it in you to argue, there’s no way around this anyway, fuck it! “What -the-fuck-ever!” Sliding the half empty plate aside “Well, you wanna just get it out of the way now? Because I’m really not in the mood for-”

“Y/n..oh my god! Hi, honey how are you!? You look beautiful as always…” Suddenly there was a human, a human wearing the wrong shade of foundation kissing your cheek. A human by the name of Caroline, one of the local news anchors...clearly her damn ears were ringing.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Hi guys, that’s all she wrote, well kinda, actually she finished it like 16 months ago lol but that’s all she wrote for now I guess....

**_

_****Love you...see ya soon!!**

***SIDE NOTE, MY FRIEND MADE THE TWITTER EDIT SO DON’T ASK LOL IDK ****

UPDATE: HEADCANONS FOR THE KIM BOYS/OC

HEADCANONS

#Namjoon #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #namjoon au #kim namjoon #kim namjoon smut #kim namjoon x reader #bts #bts smut #bts au #bts x reader #kim namjoon x you #kpop #kpop smut #kpop au

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honeymoonjin · 4 years

Text

ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ: ot7 x reader || ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ: 11.1k || ɢᴇɴʀᴇ: smut - rated 18+

sᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ:

Sick of unsatisfying hookups, boring relationships or the company of your own hand? Apply today for the chance to be on bangasm.com’s very first reality show! Seven attractive young gentlemen will be vying for your choice of who is best in bed. All from different backgrounds, these men claim they’ll be able to rock your world, so don’t hesitate! Apply now!

Congratulations! You’ve been accepted as the Lady in the first season of The Gentlemen.

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ᴡᴀʀɴɪɴɢs: voyeurism, exhibitionism, filmed sex, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), big dick namjoon serving us tripod realness, dom!joon, and when i say dom i mean both dominant AND domestic : ), impregnation kink, daddy kink, praise, dom!jimin, sub!reader in both of these scenes, lingerie kink (m wearing), copious teasing, very light spanking, french kissing, lapdance, the jimin scene is filthier than the tags give it credit for ngl, oral (m receiving), cum swallowing/eating, aftercare (as always)

banner designer @jamaisjoons | thank you everyone in the sfhs server, you bring me so much joy, motivation and good ideas | AND finally thank you to the anon that suggested [redacted] jimin i legit replanned everything just to make that his prompt

DAY TWELVE

The mattresses in the room of bunk beds are surprisingly comfortable. The metal springs squeak a little if you move too much, but you wake up feeling well-rested.

“Not too bad, right?” Hoseok chirps, swinging out on the ladder and jumping down onto the floor with a thud. Using his laundry from the day before, he unceremoniously swaps his sleep shirt and boxers for some deep green skinny jeans and an orange sweater. Namjoon, more modest and distinctly more sleepy, grabs his clothes and stumbles back to his own room.

“The beds? Better than I was expecting for sure.”

Hoseok smiles warmly as you hop down the ladder and arrive on steady ground again, toes curling into the carpet. He fiddles quickly with a chunky watch, doing up the links. “Breakfast is downstairs if you want it.”

You throw him a teasing grin. “Not if you’re making it, thanks.”

He has the good graces to pretend to be offended, before tugging you into a playful side-hug, ignoring your squeak of surprise. “No, you cheeky fucker, Jungkook bought pancake mix. He texted me saying there’s plenty for everyone.”

“Jungkook making breakfast?” you ask dubiously, but the warm image of pancakes for breakfast makes your stomach growl. “Let me get dressed real quick and I’ll come down.”

Jungkook, it seems, is starting out the day cheerful as ever. He gives you a big grin when you, Namjoon and Hoseok come down for breakfast, and he makes sure to dish up the biggest pancakes for you, before taking the second biggest for himself.

Jin raises a teasing brow when you come down accompanied by the two men, Namjoon still with his hair ruffled up awkwardly from his slumber. “Long night?” he questions with a cheesy wink.

Hoseok catches on to the teasing nature, letting out a dramatic sigh. “Sadly, Namjoon wanted a rest day, so we didn’t enjoy any funny business.”

Jungkook watches the three of you closely, lips tightening just a little bit before he breaks out into a cheeky smile. “I think Y/n would have been too tired out to do anything more anyway.”

You choke on air, a forkful of pancakes blessedly not in your mouth yet. Beside you, Hoseok chuckles awkwardly. “Goodness, JK, we heard enough yesterday. The gym walls are not as thick as they should be.”

Instead of blushing like you are, Jungkook puffs his chest up. “I’ve never heard Y/n scream like that with any of you guys. Then again; I bet you haven’t made her squirt like I did.”

This time you aren’t so fortunate, coughing on a mouthful that you’d anxiously stuffed in to keep yourself occupied. You send Yoongi a grateful look as he slides you a glass of water.

“Jesus, Jungkook,” Jin grimaces, “we’re trying to eat breakfast.”

You keep your eyes down, confused by Jungkook’s behaviour and more than a little embarrassed.

When you hear Namjoon speak up, his voice is strangely tensed. “That’s really not appropriate.”

A heated pause. “This is literally a porn show,” Jungkook states defensively, “sex is the whole reason we’re here. I think everyone’s forgetting this is a competition about being the best in bed, I’m just- You know what, never mind, pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“You just what?” Namjoon questions. It’s unlike him to be argumentative, and you shift in your seat, taking another sip of the ice-cold water. “Did you really make us all pancakes just so you could gloat? Y/n is a person, not a video game, Jungkook. Have a little respect.”

Jungkook doesn’t respond, but when you glance up, the frustrated rolling of his eyes and furious stabbing of his fork in a pancake speaks volumes.

Yoongi pinches his brow. “Jin-hyung, can you pass the syrup? Thanks.”

Namjoon stares expectantly at the youngest Gentleman for a few moments, before letting out a light huff and returning to his food.

Silence continues for a moment or two before Taehyung pipes up, voice tiny in the oppressive tension. “How many people still have to do their prompts this week? I haven’t done mine yet.”

Yoongi sends him a lightly exasperated look. “Really?”

Taehyung gives a small shrug, glancing to the camboy sitting beside him. “I mean… I don’t think we need to be explicit but this show is about sex. I feel like it’s equally bad if we don’t talk about it at all, you know?”

“The kid’s right,” Jin allows with a wry grin. “I’ve done mine. Tuesday; though I suppose some of you saw.”

Jimin cocks his head, lost. “Saw? Uh, yes, I haven’t done my prompt yet. Actually, uh, if you guys wanna take part, stay in the lounge tonight. I need an audience.”

You send him an inquiring look. “What about me?”

Jimin lets out a short laugh. “Your participation is kind of mandatory. Please stay in the lounge too.”

You appreciate the slow brushes of conversation that ease the tension away. “Am I an audience member or a volunteer?” You grimace suddenly. “Wait, fuck, it isn’t like a circus act or something, right? You aren’t a magician?”

“Don’t worry, the show won’t be that kind of magic,” he promises.

You go to reply, but your attention is caught by the way Jungkook is openly glaring at Namjoon like he’s waiting for something. “Kook?” you question.

Jungkook’s eye twitches. “Why aren’t you saying anything now, Namjoon? So they get to talk about sex but I can’t?”

Jin sucks in harshly through his teeth, sending a look of alarm to the youngest. “Okay, break it up, that’s enough. Jungkook, any more smart comments and you can leave. We’ll talk privately if you need it.”

Jungkook lets out a bitter scoff, but Namjoon is already rising hastily, banging the edge of the table in his haste to get up. “I’ll go,” he urges, “you all can enjoy your breakfast in peace.”

Nobody seems to even breathe as the sounds of Namjoon’s footsteps fade away, a door upstairs shutting harshly.

Yoongi has his face bent, thumb and forefinger pressing to his forehead, like a headache is coming on. “What the fuck was that?” he muses tiredly.

Jungkook doesn’t answer, staring at his pancakes like he’s trying to make them burst into flames.

You bite your tongue harshly, unsettled by how tempers flared so quickly. Unsure of what to do, you stare at Jungkook for a moment. You don’t want it to seem like you’re picking a side, but he has five others around him, and Namjoon is upstairs alone. You slide your chair out, quieter than last time. “I’m just going to check on him. Jungkook; you’re fine, I’m not angry.”

He breaks out of his death stare at his breakfast to send you a look of bewilderment, but Yoongi is already clicking his tongue disapprovingly. “Well, I am,” the second eldest declares, and you rush upstairs before the scolding begins.

Namjoon answers, albeit reluctantly, when you knock on the door and call out to him. He’s well and truly awake and alert now, hair combed down sullenly, the purple looking more faded than ever against the rich blue of his long-sleeved t-shirt. “Are you okay?” he asks with a tired frown.

Your brows lift automatically. “That is the exact question I came up here to ask. Can I come in?”

His bedroom is even more tidy than usual, now that he hasn’t been sleeping there. You sit down on the edge of his bed, feeling an unsettling swirl of dread.

“I’m sorry about Jungkook,” is the first thing out of his mouth as he sits down beside you, shoulders hunched like he’s making himself as small as possible.

You shake your head slowly. “You shouldn’t apologise on other people’s behalf. He’ll say sorry if he wants to.”

Namjoon pauses for a moment. “Then I’m sorry about contributing to the uncomfortable atmosphere.”

Despite the situation, your mouth quirks into a grin and your eyes soften. “Forgiven. I’m more worried than angry, you know? About the both of you.”

Namjoon lets out a sigh, eyes dancing aimlessly around the room, no doubt pondering complex concepts at the speed of light like he usually was. “This is probably to be expected, right? Tension. I didn’t think I’d be the one involved, though.”

“Ah, it wouldn’t be a reality show without some drama,” you allow, scooting back on the bed so you can tuck your feet up, crossing your legs. “We’ve just gotta move past it, I guess.”

“Didn’t it make you uncomfortable?” Namjoon blurts suddenly, cringing at the volume of his voice. “Him talking about you so publicly like that?”

You run your tongue along the inside of your cheek. “It took me off guard for sure. I don’t know; I guess sex is kind of our currency in here, you know? Him being so, uh, bold about it out of nowhere is pretty weird, though.” You shrug it off. “Maybe he slept bad last night.”

Namjoon searches your face. “I’m too much of a prude, aren’t I? Things like that bother me, so why did I sign up for a porn show?”

You turn to face him, brows knitted in sympathy. “Just because others are more open doesn’t mean being modest is a bad thing. Don’t let Jungkook’s bad mood make you believe that you don’t belong on the show or that you need to change. Okay?”

The two of you share a tender moment of eye contact, before Namjoon laughs shyly and turns his head away. You grin at him. “What?”

“It’s stupid,” Namjoon deflects, “it’s not the time.”

“Not the time for what?” you press. “Tell me; I’m curious now.”

Namjoon’s eyes dart up, pausing briefly at your lips. “I just… I really wanted to kiss you.”

Your heart swells, but you keep your face open, your voice barely louder than a whisper. “Then you should kiss me.”

All the breath leaves his lungs in a rush, but before he can inhale again, he’s propelling himself forward, wide hands cradling your jaw steady so your lips can join, a little uncoordinated but perfect nonetheless.

The small whimper of surprise is muffled by his lips, but you quickly melt into him, hands clutching at the front of his shirt for stability.

You can taste the remnants of breakfast, the sweet stickiness of maple syrup on his lips. You deepen the kiss to seek out more of the flavour, breaths escaping your nose as you don’t dare part for a second. Namjoon seems equally enraptured, shy flicks of his tongue making your head spin.

You lean in until your wrists are pinned between his chest and yours, and then lean in more, wanting to be close. Like oxygen to fire, the more contact you get the more desperate you become, and when his hands lower to lift you easily onto his lap, grinding you unconsciously against his erection, you feel ablaze.

“I need to-nm-do my prompt,” Namjoon murmurs out, teeth catching on your tongue with how deeply you kiss.

You swallow, leaning back slightly to take a breath in. “We don’t have to now,” you assure, moving your hands up to stabilise yourself on his shoulders so that he cranes his neck up to chase your lips. “Or have you graduated from Hoseok’s School of Sexual Prowess already.”

You smile down at the way his eyes flutter shut with a crooked grin, delicate crescent moon lash line a deep brown against his tanned skin. His lips are flushed and swollen, and he swallows like a man parched before he speaks, blinking blearily up at you. “I prefer to learn on the job,” he quips hoarsely.

You grin, leaning down to nudge him slightly to the side with your nose, giving you a better angle to leave a trail of light kisses from the corner of his mouth to the top of his jaw, tugging on his earlobe just enough that you feel his dick twitch against you. “What’s it gonna be, then? Am I a naughty student? Slacking receptionist? Do I need to sign for a package, delivery boy?”

The chuckle Namjoon lets out is pained and reluctant. “Was that what you were hoping for? It’s a bit more romantic than that.”

“Romantic is good,” you assure, letting his arms on your hips hold you steady as you lean back and search his face. “Do I get any more clues? Tell me something.”

When he blinks up at you, there’s something open and earnest in his gaze, like he’s left behind that shy boy that blushes at any mention of sex. “Let me show you, love.”

He cradles your back and lays you down on his bed so delicately it takes your breath away. Without speaking, he presses his lips to yours again, and once again you feel unanchored in an ocean, kept floating by the pressure of his proximity. Slower than usual, you move against each other; his hands bracing him up by the pillow, your leg hitched up over his waist to keep him close. Between the soft cushioning of his bed and the solid heat of his body, you feel secure and safe, eyes closed so that he fills your other senses entirely.

The sweetness of the maple syrup on his tongue and lips has long since melted away, but it leaves behind his natural flavour, one you think you prefer more. Aftershave still clings to his cheeks, tingling your nostrils, but past it is the bright candylike scent of his orange blossom shampoo, and they mix dizzily as the ends of his hair brush your skin.

Need begins to pool between your legs, but it doesn’t drive you, instead staying muted in the background like the pleasant heat of a bubbling jacuzzi, hips rocking lazily without any true purpose as you focus on the shocks of pleasure when your tongues connect.

It’s impossible to tell how long the two of you stay like that, no urgency or haste, just enjoying the intimacy and closeness of shared breaths and swollen lips. When he trails a hand down to slip under your shirt, even his slightly calloused fingertips running up your side is enough to make you whimper, sensitised to every touch.

Namjoon groans when his palm covers your breast, gripping it and swiping a thumb over your stiffened peak, arousing even through the fabric of your bra, his mouth only leaving yours for the second it takes to push your shirt over and off, connecting again with a small grunt of need.

Though Namjoon’s body is hot like a furnace against you, the open air still causes you to shiver, arching your back so Namjoon can blindly locate the hooks on your bra, able to slip it off you in no time at all.

This time, when his teeth tug at your lip and you feel the uninhibited contact of his fingertip tracing a circle around your nipple, it’s like a spike of electricity straight to your core, igniting that spark of full-blown arousal. Namjoon’s lips quirk against yours when you let a moan catch in your throat.

When he shifts down, you’re expecting his mouth on your breast, or perhaps him to sit up to take his own clothes off, but he doesn’t go nearly that far. Instead he presses your jaw up, exposing your neck but laying kisses on the underside of your chin first.

Perhaps it’s that you weren’t expecting that touch, or perhaps such a unique place isn’t used to that type of attention, but his swollen lips caressing just below your jaw feels magical, eyelids fluttering as he sucks so, so gently.

His hand never leaves your breast, massaging the flesh, tracing where your regular skin pebbles into the dusky areola, nail dragging teasingly over the bud, and your mind is working itself into knots trying to process all the sensations he’s stirring in you.

If his first time was thrilling, this was nothing short of electric, neon bursts of colour behind your eyelids the only thing you can see. As his kisses slowly venture lower, dipping to the base of your neck, pulse throbbing against him, you picture your nerve endings like purple strands of electricity in a plasma ball, lighting up with every touch of his fingers, lips and tongue to your skin.

“Na-Namjoon,” you gasp out, swallowing to ease the dryness in your throat, “don’t tease, I need you.”

Namjoon shifts lower, but not low enough, chin resting on your chest as he looks up at you with a pleased smile, clearly satisfied with his improvement from last time. “But love, there’s no rush. We have the rest of our lives, remember? To have and to hold,” he rumbles lowly, pressing two light kisses to the top of your heaving breasts, “til death do us part.”

Your eyes widen. “Oh.”

Namjoon’s lip twitches. “Oh,” he repeats playfully. Goosebumps break out on the tops of your arms at this sudden brazenness. He’d clearly been doing plenty of talking with Hoseok, and to see his hard work pay off in your pleasured reactions probably gave him a burst of confidence. “Are you going to be patient for me now, love? Let me savour you?”

Your breath catches in your throat, so you just nod shakily.

Satisfied with your response, Namjoon quirks a lip before using the very tip of his tongue to trail a circle around your nipple, just wide enough that the bud strains for his attention. Your fingers clutch his sides, annoyingly still clothed, as he moves to the other one, still giving your nipple a wide berth. “C-come on, Joonie,” you complain hoarsely, “I need more.”

When he looks up at you from below his lashes and sucks one nipple slowly into his mouth, tongue pressing it against his upper teeth, you hiss sharply, releasing the air in a breathy moan. Namjoon suckles at you gently, still languid but no longer avoiding your most sensitive areas, and the hand not propping him up begins rolling the other one between his fingers, making you shudder.

You’re so wet between your legs it’s growing uncomfortable, and so you cant your hips up towards him, hoping he gets the message. He tuts at you, but pulls off your nipple with a wet pop and sits up to undress further.

Namjoon shucks his own shirt without ceremony before his fingers find your waistband, and you let him slide off your pants and underwear as you lie back and enjoy the sight of his thick chest and smooth stomach, a trail of dark baby hairs disappearing past his jeans that you didn’t remember noticing the first time you slept with him.

He takes off those jeans, his boxers too, and joins you on the bed again, running a warm palm up your side. “I want to taste you,” he announces simply, carding a hand through his hair to keep it out of your face.

“Fuck, please.” You watch with wide eyes as he lies on his stomach, hands dipping under your thighs to lift and part them. The exposed air has you clenching instinctively, and you swear you can see his eyes dilate at the sight. “Namjoon,” you whine, back arching in impatience.

“Shh, love, I’ve got you,” he assures, peppering kisses from just below your knees, down your thighs until you can feel his breath on your core. “So beautiful.”

You can barely breathe, head propped up on the pillow to stare down the plains of your chest and stomach to the insanely attractive man between your legs. Though you’d grown fond of the kinkier, wild scenes - in fact, your dreams at night had taken a turn since joining the show - something about seeing Namjoon so at his element in this domestic atmosphere has you dripping.

Like he has all the time in the world, he locks eyes with you and blows a wave of slightly cool air over your folds. You breathe out a groan, sending him what you hope is a convincing-enough pleading gaze. He smiles placidly, licks his lips, ducks his head even further, and-

And blows another stream, this time narrowed and colder, directly over your clit. You shudder and buck instinctively in his grip, his hands on your thighs keeping you spread.

“Come on,” you gasp out, “Hoseok’s made you into a fucking demon!”

“Oh, trust me,” Namjoon murmurs, “Hoseok’s version was way kinkier than this. I’m trying to be romantic and sensual.”

You shift again, fruitlessly trying to wiggle your hips closer. “It would be really fucking romantic if you would actually put your mouth on my-ah!”

Just like you know Hoseok would (you don’t know whether to thank him or curse him for this), Namjoon strikes when you least expect it, and when you most need it.

Though his mouth is small, his tongue is no less nimble, darting deeply through your folds to collect your juices and using them to slurp harshly at your clit. You jerk, hand shooting down to latch in his hair, but he continues that constant, unyielding vacuum until you’re squirming hopelessly beneath him, finally pulling off with the slightest graze of teeth.

“Happy now?” he retorts, swollen lips glossy with your slick. His hands tighten on your thighs. “Hold them.”

Invigorated by his command, you rush to grasp the backs of your knees, keeping your legs up and spread for him. “Fuck, so good, Joonie, w-want more.”

Now with two hands freed, it’s no surprise when two fingers find their way into your wet heat, twisting inside you with every smooth thrust. His chin is smeared with your wetness when he lowers it to continue laving his tongue over your sensitive clit, but he groans sinfully into you, like he’s getting just as much pleasure from it as you are.

Once he really gets going, he’s merciless, his fingers so thick that you don’t even need a third one to really feel him filling you, hooking up to rub at your g-spot every now and again to hear the involuntary whimpers you give out.

You hold onto your own knees for dear life, writhing under him as a hot coil tightens inside you. “Fu-fuck, Joonie, I’m getting close.”

His mouth detaches from your clit for a bare moment, enough for him to pant out a groan and stare lustily up at you. “Don’t cum yet,” he instructs lowly, “you’re going to cum on my cock this time, love.”

You whine, biting your lip harshly to try and distract from the building pleasure. “Then you have to- have to stop, Joonie,” you shudder out reluctantly.

To your surprise, Namjoon is even more begrudging than you are, tugging out his fingers to chase a last few indulgent licks up your seam before he finally sits up to kneel, panting. “Are you ready for me?”

You feel yourself grow impossibly wetter at the sight of him grasping his length, slipping it through your folds to slick it up. “Yes, god yes, I need it, need your cock,” you garble.

Namjoon’s eyes flutter shut for a moment, before he presses his head to your entrance, sinking in barely an inch to test your reaction. “Can’t wait to fill you up, love,” he admits, abs clenching with the effort it takes to sink in slowly. “Fuck a baby into you, my perfect girl.”

Your heart races at his words, clenching around. “God, yes, Joonie, please.” Though all the Gentlemen were well aware you were on birth control, there was something wildly erotic about the thought of it. “Fill me up, wanna be good for you.”

Finally he bottoms out, and your thighs shake at the stretch. With your hips tilted up, it almost feels like he’s fucking right into your stomach, so deep your mind struggles to process the sensations. He heaves a few breaths, giving you a chance to squeeze around him experimentally and grow accustomed to him filling you so completely.

You mumble out your permission for him to move breathily, the air punched out of your lungs when he pulls out only to drive deep inside of you in one slick thrust. Your mouth drops open once he begins to thrust, holding onto your knees for dear life as they tremble uncontrollably.

“God, look at you,” Namjoon pants out, chest heaving with excitement or exertion, perhaps a mix of both. One of his palms presses against the top of your stomach, increasing the pressure of his cock inside you. “‘Be so beautiful with my baby inside you, love, tummy swollen. I’ll take good care of you, would you like that?”

You have to squeeze your eyes shut to put all your focus into speaking. “Ye-yeah, I want that, Joonie,” you manage to articulate, his length keeping your mouth watering whenever he’s inside you. “Gonna be such a good daddy, Joon.”

Like a switch being flicked, Namjoon suddenly jerks, going rigid. Your eyes open blearily when he stills inside you, and you moan openly at the fucked-out look on his face, his eyes lidded and hair wild.

“S-say that again,” he commands, and your mouth drops open at the desperate grate to his voice.

So Namjoon liked to be called… “Daddy,” you whine experimentally, grinning when his cock twitches, hips juddering. “Want you to fuck me, Daddy, please move.”

“God, love, so fucking perfect for me,” he makes out before he starts off again with a renewed vigor, hands kneading at your breasts, at the flesh of your hips, at your ass as he lifts you up to meet his every thrust.

The feeling of him fucking into you so intensely has you feeling delirious, unsure if the ringing in your ears is actually the sounds of your own cries, torn from your throat with every slap of his balls against your ass, the weight of his hips jerking you into the pillow more and more every time.

You feel the pressure of his body hovering just above you, the angle of his thrusts changing, then suddenly his mouth is on your breast again, sucking harshly at the nipple. With the way your body moves beneath him, he can’t help but scrape his teeth against you a couple times, but it just makes the pleasure soar higher, neon starbusts of colour behind your eyelids when you squeeze them closed.

“Close again,” you warn desperately, losing the grip on one of your knees due to the sweat gathering there. With one up and one down, the angle changes again, and you reach out blindly to latch onto his upper arm, screaming at the heights of pleasure. “Can I cum this time, Daddy, please let me cum!”

“Fuck, give it to me, cum for me,” he growls out around your breast, and you see stars.

The orgasm that rips through you is powerful enough that all your senses fade suddenly away, unable to feel anything expect a rush of pleasure all the way down to your toes, boneless yet convulsing as he pistons his hips into you once, twice, three more times until he’s taken by the way you clench tightly around him.

He laps clumsily, wetly at your nipple as he spills inside you, before the two of you are completely drained of energy. Panting, heaving, you don’t even manage to catch your breath before you’re falling into slumber, Namjoon still inside you.

“He told us to wait here, right?” you ask anxiously.

There are six of you gathered on the couches in the lounge. Television off, the silence is weirdly uncomfortable. Perhaps that’s just because you know that everyone is waiting here not only to see Jimin, but to see what Jimin is going to do to you.

Hoseok, tucked into the smallest corner of the couch on the right, huffs lightly at your question. “He’s Jimin, Y/n. Either he’s up there primping or he’s just making you wait to be obnoxious.”

Perched beside him with a glass of whisky, two fingers full, Yoongi sends a droll glare to Hoseok. “Bold words for a man who’s choosing to watch the show.”

“I’m curious, sue me.”

“I think we all are,” Namjoon adds, curled up beside you in the central position of the three couches. “I think the only one that knows his prompt is Tae.”

Taehyung turns to answer, propped up against Jin’s side on the left, but the eldest interrupts, a crease of worry between his brows. “Not all of us, it seems,” he points out. “Don’t you find it strange that Jungkook isn’t here?”

“Does he know?” Taehyung wonders, fingers dipping into his pocket to reach for his phone.

Yoongi frowns. “He knows. He asked me not to make him anything for dinner tonight. Said he wasn’t feeling well. Didn’t seem like he was sick, just… distressed. I think you should talk with him, Jin.”

Jin sucks in a breath, pauses, and exhales again, jaw flexing. “Sure.”

The six of you lapse into a slightly strained silence again, before Namjoon gets restless, shifting beside you until he finally clears his throat and looks up at Yoongi. “What is for dinner, hyung?”

“We didn’t really have much for lunch, so I’m thinking steak and pasta,” the doctor offers up. “There’s some carbonara sauce in the pantry that looks good.”

Taehyung coughs nervously. “Do we have steak? I didn’t think there were-”

“We had plenty this morning when I checked,” Yoongi cuts in evenly. “Should I be aware of any recent developments?”

The masseuse pouts, leaning further into Jin’s side like he’ll protect him. “Well… It’s just that I feel so bad for Mango! The kennel I bought online isn’t as insulated as I hoped it would be and I know she gets lonely.”

Yoongi groans, going lax on the leather of the couch. “So you figured she’d what? Cuddle with the steaks?”

“I just figured maybe if I gave her nice food she’d cheer up,” Taehyung adds, “and it was just two! Are you mad at me?”

“No, I guess I’m not. Jungkook isn’t eating anyway, and…” Yoongi grins. “As penance, you can have plain pasta and watch the rest of us enjoy our perfectly cooked steaks.”

Taehyung throws himself against Jin dramatically, but even as he moans in misery, a relieved smile crooks at his lips. “I suppose,” he drawls begrudgingly, and once again a light atmosphere fills the room, like everyone’s just sighed out a breath of relief.

You lean onto the arm of the couch, facing Taehyung. “Tae, Jimin’s prompt isn’t too, like, intense, right?”

He cocks his head. “What do you mean? For him or for you?”

“Uh…” Your mind whirls blankly, cheeks heating up as you draw the attention of the other guys. “For- for me. So far some of the scenes have been pretty taxing, and I guess I just didn’t expect such a jump up from Week One.”

Instead of laughing or teasing, the others go a little solemn, perhaps even bashful. “Jimin’s isn’t super crazy, Y/n, don’t worry,” Taehyung assures quickly.

Yoongi bites down hard on his tongue, jaw popping. “We didn’t go too hard on you, did we?”

You suck in a breath. “I mean- No, not individually. It builds up though, you know?” Something niggles in the back of your mind, something you’ve wondered for a while. “Do you guys talk about it?”

Hoseok hesitates. “About fucking you?”

Your cheeks are on fire as you curl up small in the corner. “Not- Not that specifically, but just… Do you guys discuss who goes when and who has what? I kinda wondered why you spread yourselves out, if it’s just a coincidence or if you- Never mind, it’s stupid.”

“We kinda do,” Hoseok admits freely. “Like, obviously we don’t all sit down in a room brainstorming or something-” You don’t miss the way Taehyung and Namjoon instinctively lock gazes, though you can’t quite read their expressions. Hoseok continues, “but we do chat with each other and try and give each other space.”

Jin shrugs easily. “Yeah, like, I’ll just say in the groupchat, ‘I’m planning on doing my scene outside, look outside at your own risk’ or whatever.” The eldest stiffens as he’s fixed with several glares of alarm, including your own. “What? Were we not meant to tell her about the groupchat?”

Your mouth drops open. “You guys have a groupchat without me? I wanna see!”

“That defeats the purpose of you not being in the group chat,” Yoongi points out, though his grin is more sheepish than mischievous.

You make a noise of exasperation, ready to protest further, but before you can open your mouth the doorbell rings.

Everyone freezes.

After a moment, the doorbell rings again.

“You should go get it,” Taehyung supplies helpfully, eyes on you. “Might be interesting.”

Your heart picks up with the cool thread of adrenaline. It’s time. All eyes are on you as you sit up and make your way out to the foyer, the tile cool under your bare feet.

Though the door is a rich mahogany, clouded glass panels on either side betray a dark figure, perfectly still. Even though you can barely see the outline, there’s no deny the expectant tilt of their head belongs to none other than Jimin.

By the time you pad up to the door and turn the knob, his hand is outstretched to ring the bell a third time, and his mouth parts in surprise before giving you a pleasant beam.

You’d been wondering if he was meant to be a delivery guy, a mechanic, something along those lines, but your first glance over him proves you wrong.

His blue hair is glossy enough to reflect the light of the lamp above the doorway, curled in graceful swoops on his forehead and temples. Though he always wore makeup, it was clear he’s set to impress, with a bold russet red lip, powerful black eyeliner and a spot of gold under each eye.

He’s taller than usual, and you glance down automatically, to be greeted with the most gorgeous black heels, stiletto points giving him an extra few inches of height. The shoes make his legs look a mile long, and you suck in a breath as you follow them up, realising they’re completely bare, the only adornment a sinfully tight pair of black fishnets that dig in to his thighs and calves.

In fact, all he seems to be wearing otherwise is a black trenchcoat, falling to mid-thigh and with the sash tied so tightly it accentuates his narrow waist.

All put together, he looks like sin personified, the kind sailors drown for. You can’t help but want to dive in yourself. Trying to go along with the roleplay, you play dumb. “Do I, uh, do I know you?”

Jimin’s smile broadens as his arm falls, hand resting snugly on his hip. “You will soon, sweetness.” Usually one for pinks, nudes and clear glosses, seeing him suddenly in a deep red makes you realise just how full his lips are. You miss the feeling of them on you. “Did Taehyung not tell you I was coming?”

“Did Tae-?” You clear your throat, unsure how to proceed. This Jimin was Amazonian; bruisingly pretty and intimidating in his grace. “I guess not? Was he supposed to?”

His eyes crinkle empathetically, darting past you into the foyer. “Let’s talk inside, shall we? I’m not exactly dressed for the outdoors.”

“Oh, fuck!” you blurt instinctively, and you swear his lip twitches before you’re backing away hastily, ushering him inside. “I’m so sorry, please come in! Do you want me to take your coat? I don’t- I don’t know what you need.”

Jimin steps inside and closes the door behind him in one smooth motion, punctuated only by the click of his heels on the tile. He reaches out to pat your cheek, only somewhat condescendingly. “No wonder, sweetness, you didn’t even know I was coming.” That isn’t quite true, but in the scheme of things, you may as well not have known he was doing his scene tonight at all for all it’s helping you. “Why don’t you lead me to Taehyung? I assume he’s here.”

“Of course he’s- I mean, yes, he’s here. Right this way.”

The two of you only have a short trip to the lounge, where no doubt the other five have been straining their ears to eavesdrop, but every strike of his heels against the floor behind you has the hairs on the nape of your neck standing on end.

In the lounge, the guys are all turned around in their seats to shamelessly ogle Jimin, Taehyung the only one without the gobsmacked look on his face - though even he takes in an unsteady breath at how gorgeous the man looks.

You make your way to him, standing awkwardly in front of the couch that him and Jin share. Turning back to face Jimin, you can’t help but match Taehyung’s reaction. Jimin looks even more radiant in the decent lighting of the room. You can see now his trenchcoat is a lush fabric, slightly thicker than silk, and deeply matte. Around the inside of the collar is a faint embossed silver logo, promoting Chanel as the designer of that piece.

Ignoring the stunned silence of the room, Jimin slinks immediately to Taehyung, tipping his chin up with his knuckles. “Did you not tell Y/n about me, hm?” he questions with a faux pout. “Kept it a secret, our naughty Taehyungie.”

The masseuse wilts pleadingly under Jimin’s gaze, and the responding wicked grin makes you think that Jimin probably told him to keep quiet, only to tell him off for it now. “Sorry, Minnie,” Taehyung mutters nonetheless. “Wanted it to be a surprise.”

“Did you now?” Jimin lets go of him, stepping back. “I suppose we should get down to business, then. Are you all leaving, or do I have an audience tonight?” Glancing around imperiously, you watch as his eyes dart back and forth, smile faltering. His breath catches, eyes dull with disappointment that he quickly masks under a broad smile. “It’s just the six of you, then?”

Your heart aches as you think of the missing person still upstairs in his room. “Yeah, it’s just us.”

Always the professional, Jimin moves on without comment. “Well, then, sweetness; take a seat and get comfortable. You’re a lucky girl tonight.”

Your mouth feels dry even as it waters. Taking your seat beside Namjoon again, you watch in rapt anticipation as Jimin slips a hand into his pocket and pulls out his phone, fiddling with something on it as he strolls slowly into the center of the room, just in front of the television.

“We have a few rules,” Jimin announces. “No heckling, no getting drunk while I’m here, and no touching unless I give you permission. They’re simple, so I expect you to follow them. Got it?”

With his back to the group as he sets up his phone, you’re unsure who exactly he’s addressing, but some of you make general hums of confirmation, all the attention on Jimin.

When the music starts - a deep, thrumming beat with a sensual pace - you can see the change in him immediately, even from the back. His shoulders adjust, head tips back slightly like he’s letting it run through him, and his fingers find the knot of his sash.

You can barely comprehend the fact that Jimin is about to dance for you, breath caught in your throat when his hips begin to sway and the fabric of his trenchcoat loosens, slipping down just enough to reveal the tops of his shoulders, bare except two skinny black straps.

Following the groove of the music, he rocks his head back, hips shifting side to side, and lets the coat fall an inch at a time. A tight black bodice is revealed, structured leather with a soft velvet trim that covers most of his back. Sleeves dangling right at the ends of his fingertips, the coat dips just below the swells of his ass, which are clad in a racy g-string, a thicker band of lace low across his hips and a narrow one running down the middle of his cheeks. Letting the coat go completely, the last of his back silhouette is exposed, the leather garter straps that hold those fishnet stockings up.

“Shit!” Yoongi hisses under his breath, hands glinting in the light and whiskey glass significantly emptier than before. A dark patch spreads across one leg of his pants, evidence of him spilling his drink.

Though he was quiet, Jimin picks up on it, and turns smoothly, lightly surprised and heavily amused, watching Yoongi squirm in embarrassment as he approaches.

If the view from the back is breathtaking, seeing Jimin full-frontal is another level. The bodice has clearly been tailored for someone with a flat chest, but the shape no less speaks to the feminine style of a bra, roughly triangular leather covering the upper half of his chest to meet the smooth velvet straps. The whole piece is just short enough that it leaves a stripe of skin between fabrics, his hipbones jutting out gracefully and guiding your gaze lower, where the front of his lace panties strain with the size of his length, the tip threatening to peek out the top.

He’s hard, you notice with a start, and from the hazy look on everyone’s faces, they’ve noticed it too. Jimin likes this.

When he’s standing in front of Yoongi, towering over the other in his heels, he reaches out a hand silently, eyes darting to the glass in Yoongi’s hand.

The elder gulps, holding it up, blushing as Jimin wraps one hand around Yoongi’s wrist, and takes the glass from him with the other. In a graceful swill, he downs the last of Yoongi’s whiskey, not even wincing. Teasingly, he bends down to place the empty glass directly over Yoongi’s crotch, making him hiss.

Like he has all the time in the world, Jimin straightens up again and tugs the wrist in his grasp higher. Locking eyes, Jimin parts his lips and wraps them around the base of Yoongi’s thumb, sucking off the spilt liquor.

Yoongi groans lowly, cheeks stained red as his eyes flutter shut in a mix of pleasure and humiliation. As Jimin makes his way through all of Yoongi’s fingers, bobbing his head obscenely and swirling his tongue, you think you see the empty glass wobble on Yoongi’s lap, like his cock is twitching in his pants. Fuck. It’s not even you getting the full weight of Jimin’s attention and you already feel dizzy with need.

Once he’s done, Jimin lets go and Yoongi’s hand falls limply to his side. Satisfied, he moves to the center of the room again, hips fluid with the flow of the music.

A cursory glance around the room shows that you’re not the only one heavily affected. Beside you Namjoon is restless, shifting back and forth from spreading his legs to ease the pressure, and clenching them together to try and hide the bulge in his pants. Hoseok looks pale, eyes wide and locked onto Jimin’s ass as he walks away from their couch.

On the other side, Taehyung and Jin are significantly more shameless; Jin rests a hand on the back of Tae’s neck and tugs at the curls of hair there as the younger boy ruts against his thigh, curled into his side even as the two of them focus on the attraction in the centre of the room.

You can only imagine how fucked out you must look too, wriggling against the couch cushion seeking friction with your heart thudding in your chest. The effect is only heightened when Jimin locks his eyes to you and begins to dance.

One day, a few of you were gathered in this very lounge, having enough drinks to get a bit silly and uncoordinated. Jimin had told you all a little bit about his dancing career. From what he’d said, you formed this mental image of him in soft makeup and satin shoes, dainty but powerful in front of an adoring crowd. The way he spoke about music - too much of a heavyweight to be as incoherent as the rest of you - made it seem like it was his greatest love, a match made in heaven.

Though now pirouettes and grand jetés had been replaced by spread legs and lidded eyes, you could still see that passion he spoke of. It enchanted you like a snake charmer or a siren, and arousal entwines endlessly with awe in your stomach.

After what feels like the shortest eternity, the music of the first song fades out, and Jimin straightens up, exhaling a breath like he’s releasing its hold from his body to make room for the next.

The tune that fills the room next has a decently higher tempo than the first one, each beat punctuated by a clap, and he grins when he hears it, stalking forwards.

Between Jimin and the rest of you is a coffee table, and he makes his way around to Taehyung and Jin, eyes sparkling at how Taehyung straddles Jin’s thigh, blinking up at the dancer owlishly.

“Oh, baby,” Jimin coos, “enjoying the show?”

Taehyung nods, not shy but too wound up to speak.

At the lack of verbal response, Jimin grins, perching himself on Jin’s other thigh, making the eldest hiss. “Taehyungie,” Jimin calls in a sing-song voice, fingers winding into his hair, just above Jin’s, “you still haven’t paid me for my services, you know?”

“H-huh?” Poor Taehyung looks barely coherent, interrupted from his grind and staring weakly at Jimin’s glossy lips. You can’t imagine you’d be faring any better in his situation. “What- How do I pay you?”

Jimin faux pouts. “Normally I’m very expensive,” he admits lowly, but the room is silent apart from the music, and since it’s just playing from his phone, it doesn’t impede the rest of you listening in. “But I like you. I’ll take my payment tomorrow. You know what I mean, right?”

Taehyung nods dumbly, obediently, making the dancer grin wickedly.

Fixing his attention on Jin, Jimin trails his fingertips up his thigh and traces the outline of Jin’s cock in his makes, making him groan. “Take good care of my baby tonight, won’t you?”

Jin sucks in a shaky breath, eyes darting to Taehyung, but the curly-haired boy just whines and buries his face in the crook of Jin’s neck, a wordless display. “You got it, Min.”

From the other side of the room, a click of the tongue catches your attention. Hoseok is straight-faced, extricating himself from the corner of the couch to stand up and make his way out.

Jimin swiftly stands in front of him to impede his way. “Where are you going?”

Hoseok rolls his eyes with a shrug. “I came, I saw, I sated my curiosity. I’m not interested in waiting in line to be fondled, thank you very much.”

Jimin seems to have forgotten the music, eyes gleaming as he faces off the dom. “Poor baby too impatient to wait, hm? I’ll let you jump the queue,” he finishes in a husky voice, grinning.

Hoseok eyes the doorway behind Jimin, huffing impatiently. “Nice try. I’m not interested.”

Tipping his head to the side, Jimin’s brows lift in a mix of surprise and bemusement. “I’m inclined to disagree,” he says, taking a step closer so that only a sliver of air parts them. Hoseok stiffens, stubbornly avoiding looking at the dancer. “I’d venture a guess that you’re leaving so suddenly because you’re a little too interested.” Slow enough that Hoseok has plenty of time to refuse, Jimin runs his knuckles all the way down Hoseok’s front, brushing over his crotch. His grin widens, flashing white teeth. “Hmm.”

Hoseok scoffs and pulls himself away, neck and forehead slightly red. “Don’t get too cocky. It was from Taehyung, not from you, peaches.”

Even from the other side of the room, Jimin’s instinctual reaction is clear as day. His shoulders drop and his lips part, lashes fluttering before he can control the response.

If you didn’t miss it, Hoseok certainly didn’t either. He barks out a laugh, back in power again, and steps to Jimin’s side to pass him. “Knew it. Don’t miss me too much, then, peaches.”

Even as Jimin is shuddering at the petname again, Hoseok rears his hand back to smack Jimin’s ass with a sharp noise of impact, Jimin jumping forward with a startled squeak. “No touching!” the dancer hisses, one ass cheek already flooding with a sweet candy pink.

“Apologies,” Hoseok says with a teasing grin, already at the doorway, “I’ll see myself out.”

Jimin makes an indignant cry, but the older man is already bouncing up the stairs cheerfully. Determined to get the sexy atmosphere back, Jimin takes a deep breath and turns back to you all with a rueful smile, but it falters when the music fades out, the second song ending. “Ah,” he murmurs, “show’s over, kids.”

Namjoon, the only guy that hadn’t received any personal attention, sits up with a frown. “Wait, already?”

Jimin shrugs, smiling at him sweetly. “Sorry, Joon. Last song’s a private dance. Maybe another time.”

A private dance. Your breath quickens as Jimin turns off the next song that randomly came up on shuffle, collects his phone, and hitches his coat off the floor with the point of a stiletto, gathering it under his arm.

The others quietly start to stretch, sit up, Yoongi going to fill up his glass again. By the time Jimin makes his way to you, Jin has already lifted Tae up with a single arm under him, carrying the younger upstairs as Taehyung sucks shamelessly at his neck. Namjoon is slower to move, probably still a little worked up and edged from the show, but he joins Yoongi in the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone.

Once Jimin is directly in front of you, your breath stops. He’s gathered the lightest sheen of sweat from dancing, or perhaps that’s just the highlighter on his cheeks, and his eyes are hazed from the excitement of performing. He silently reaches a hand out to you with an enticing smirk.

You furrow your brow in confusion. “Not here?”

“I did say private. Unless you want me to fuck you where everyone can see?”

You gulp at the thinly veiled threat. “We can go.” You take his hand and let him lift you up with effortless strength, pausing when he looks at you expectantly. “Did I do something…?”

Jimin beams like you’re a cute but stupid pet. “I haven’t been here before, remember? Show me to your room, sweetness.”

“Oh!” You rush past him, hands catching to guide him out and upstairs. The thrill of excitement speeds your steps, and in no time at all he’s placing his coat and phone on your desk, guiding you to sit on the end of the bed.

The third song starts with the familiar smoothness of Beyonce’s voice, an older pop song that holds up still, and Jimin slips off the black straps of the bodice, another set directly below them. Arms tucking behind him, he begins to undo the clasps one by one.

“You were being very well behaved, you know, sitting there and waiting for your turn,” he muses, fiddling with the fabric behind him. “Now you get a reward.”

You don’t know what to say in response, just nodding wordlessly, but it seems he is content with that. After a moment, you notice the top half of the bodice pull away from his chest lightly, revealing not plain skin but more lace, matching the panties that struggle to cover his cock. He approaches you as he undoes the last few at the base, and slips smoothly between your legs, letting it fall to the side.

In front of you in all his glory, Jimin looks gorgeous, the inky swoops of his tattoo peeking out from under a sweet black lace bralette, the skinniest straps holding up the delicate cups. In the center is a tiny black satin bow, and you think you feel your heart give out a little at the sight of it.

Even in his pretty lingerie, he’s no less intimidating, and you shudder at the feeling of his eyes locked onto you, feeding on your reactions and pinning you to the bed.

“You like it?” the dancer asks, voice rough with arousal. You nod quickly, still too stunned for words. Jimin hums, winding a hand around the back of your neck. “Show me how much you like it.”

Before you can suck in a breath, his mouth descends on yours, and a shot of electricity runs through you as he spares no time for pecks and caresses. This kiss is nothing short of filthy, his tongue runs over your teeth, he bites your lips, he sucks on your tongue. You do your best to reciprocate enthusiastically, but there’s no question who’s in charge.

With how deep and primal it is, there’s no surprise when you feel your shared spit begin to collect in the corners of your lips and run down your chin. Jimin doesn’t stop, but lowers his mouth to lap it up, pushing it back in and continuing to fuck his tongue into your mouth.

You moan hopelessly into the kiss, hips rocking on the edge of the mattress fruitlessly and fingers holding on to his neck and shoulder for dear life. His teeth are sharp, nipping mercilessly at your bottom lip until your eyes sting, but it only serves to drive more need.

The music in the background livens up as it reaches the chorus, and suddenly the thought of the song finishing and him leaving you high and dry comes to mind. You tug yourself away from him, sucking the spit off your swollen lip. “Jimin,” you gasp out, “I want you.”

Jimin grins. Though his gloss is all but gone, the colour on his lips remains intact. “You aren’t gonna let me finish my dance, sweetness?”

“Wi-Will you still fuck me after the song ends?” you ask, feeling stupid for needing confirmation.

Jimin lets out a soft but condescending coo, hands squeezing your cheeks together so that your lips pout. “Poor baby just wants to get fucked, does she? Baby just wants a cock in her.”

Even as he mocks you, you can’t even defend yourself. “Please, Jiminie.”

He places a single light peck over your protruding and obscenely swollen lips. “Let’s make a deal; I’ll dance for the rest of the song, and if you can keep your hands to yourself, I’ll let you cum when I fuck you. Sound fair?”

At this point, you’d agree to anything, and both of you know it. “I can do it,” you insist even as your voice wobbles.

Instead of answering, Jimin begins to move, following the momentum of the music. Your hands lie at their sides, the duvet cool against your heated flesh.

He starts out easy, stepping back to give himself more space and slowly lowering into a crouch, the heels making his calves pop. Running his hands down his chest, fingers slipping under the lace, he sighs out like his own touch gives him unspeakable pleasure.

You grit your teeth. Watching him touch himself just makes you want to touch him more. He widens his legs, showing the place where the lacy band narrows down below his balls into a thin string. Whether it’s the angle or just the amount of moving he’s done, the tip of his cock has nestled up higher, poking out just to the side of his hip. Shamelessly, he runs a single fingertip over it, tapping so you can see the clear strands of precum that cling.

You let out an unsteady breath, relaxing slightly as the song begins to build to the final chorus. Not long.

Unfortunately for you, Jimin recognises the changing keys as well as you do, and he stands up smoothly, slinking towards you.

Instead of settling between your knees this time, he turns his back to you and bends down, folding himself in half to fully bare his ass. Hoseok’s handprint still pinkens the skin of one, and the sudden desire to reach out and see if it’s as warm to the touch as it looks overcomes you. You hiss and fist your hands in the fabric of the duvet cover, making Jimin stretch up with a laugh.

Merciless, Jimin widens his stance, choosing to sit on top of your lap, ass grinding on you. You can imagine this movement would be much more unbearable for a guy, but you still feel your resolve unravelling, taken by the fluidity of his hips, the lace accuentuating his slender waist, the pressure of his head as he tips it back onto your shoulder.

“This is so unfair,” you complain shakily, and are rewarded with the musical giggle Jimin lets out, bubbling from his arched throat right into your ear.

Luckily, the chorus ends, and the final notes settle down. Jimin’s hips still and he turns his head, lips just about brushing your cheek. “Good job, sweetness,” he praises warmly, “can I have another kiss?”

Your jaw jerks automatically before you catch yourself. Though it’s fading out, the song technically hasn’t ended yet. “Not yet.”

Shameless even as his ruse is exposed, Jimin just beams and twist around so that he’s straddling you face-on. He lowers his mouth to your collarbone, nibbling at the skin there as the beat fades and the overlaying instruments peter out. Though it must only be ten or fifteen seconds, it feels like forever as he rocks himself against you just like Taehyung had done to Jin - albeit less desperate and more strategic - and licks at the bite marks on your neck.

Finally, it goes silent, and you exhale deeply, hands automatically coming up to rest on his hips as he laughs lightly at your successful efforts. “I’m impressed,” he admits, “guess you get your reward after all, sweetness.”

So relieved that the heat between your legs will get some attention, you barely take notice of him standing up off you, at least not until he slips his cock fully out of the panties.

His cock, straining with being left unattended so long, is a far deeper pink than the mark on his ass, particularly around the head. He sucks in a breath through his nose as he strokes himself, before blinking down at you.

“Clothes off if you want me, sweetness.”

You could guarantee you’ve never undressed so quickly before, frantically enough that your hips are hot from the friction of tugging down your pants. You take no note, however, just spreading your legs wantonly as you eye up his cock.

“Fuck, look at you,” Jimin curses, bracing a hand on your hip as he lines himself up. “Don’t even need stretching, do you? Looks like Joonie opened you up for me already.”

Your cheeks burn, but there’s not enough time to dwell on the embarrassment, as Jimin holds you down with his grasp on your hip and bottoms out in a single thrust.

Even though he’s right, the sudden fullness has you gasping a moan, almost falling onto your back. You prop yourself up and widen your legs further, eyes locked on the sight of his cock, nestled underneath by the lushest black lace, buried deep inside you. “Fuck, please move.”

“My pleasure,” he coos with a sweet smile, before the smile drops to a slack pout of lust, snapping his hips with a deftness that you now know is due to his background as a dancer.

You fight to keep yourself sitting up, one hand around the back of his neck as he fills you with every stroke, but the angle isn’t quite right, and you find your pelvis shifting to find it.

Jimin notices your frustration, and wordlessly pauses, grips your thighs and tugs you forward so that you’re flat on your back, ass over the edge and held up by his upper body strength. Without you even processing the change, he’s returning to his ruthless place, and you sob from relief at the way your insides come alive with pleasure, so much stronger than before.

“Fuck, right there! Right- ungh, yes, Ji-Jimin,” you pant out, feeling unbearably hot all at once with the intensity of it.

Though part of you is still sore from the scene you had with Namjoon earlier, your swollen walls only increase the drag of him against your sensitive tissue, and you quickly turn incoherent, tongue so thick in your mouth that you open it, panting as your fingers clutch the duvet to anchor you.

“That good, huh?” Jimin notes with a laugh stuttered by grunts of exertion. Normally, you’d protest or retort, but with your ankles wrapped around him and back arching off the bed, there’s nothing on your mind but the enveloping urge to cum.

Rather than reply, you just let yourself drown in the sensations, vision going black as your eyes roll into the back of your head.

Your orgasm comes so fast that you don’t even notice it approaching, can’t even warn him. It’s like a clap of thunder, making you go stiff with a scream before turning completely boneless, legs slipping down off him weakly.

Jimin curses as you squeeze around him, but fucks you through it thoroughly, only slowing down once you begin to fuss, shivering and wriggling away.

Dazed from the sudden onslaught of pleasure, it takes you a few moments for the fog in your brain to clear. Once you do, you glance down and realise Jimin is still achingly hard, dripping with your slick and the remnants of Namjoon’s cum, but none of his own. He strokes it lazily, gaze searching your face.

So exhausted from two intense scenes in one day, you don’t think you could manage to jerk him off or give him a decent blowjob, but to leave him hanging would be cruel. Instead, you fumble to slide yourself off the bed, landing a little too hard on your knees.

“What are you- oh, Y/n, fuck,” Jimin exclaims lowly as you blink up at him and open your mouth, sticking your tongue out. He gets the message easily, speeding up his strokes as his tip bounces on your tongue, brief sparks of the salty tang of your shared arousal.

He must have been close before, because it doesn’t take him more than a minute to fall over the edge, cumming into your mouth with thick spurts. A shame it couldn’t have been inside you a different way, but you nonetheless chase his cock, blade of your tongue dipping into his slit to make sure you’d gotten every last drop.

Jimin swears lowly, stroking your hair back fondly as you swallow, and helps you stand up on wobbly legs.

Leading you to the bathroom, Jimin sits you on the closed toilet seat as he runs a bath. Having slipped off his heels somewhere back in the room, he unhooks his garters as he waits for the tub to fill. With one leg resting on the high edge of the tub, rolling down the fishnets one at a time, you once again are silenced in awe of his beauty.

It feels unspeakably intimate to watch him unclasp the bralette, slip off the panties, and slowly take his makeup off, easily locating the makeup remover he’d borrowed from you that very first night.

Your eyes sting a little as you’re reminded of that time. It feels like an eternity ago, even though it’s just under a fortnight. You’d thought he was so intimidating back then. Though he still had the power to command attention, you’d seen enough of the kindhearted, thoughtful and sensitive man beneath that the Jimin two weeks ago felt like a very different man.

“Water’s ready.”

You blink yourself out of that train of thought, letting Jimin help you carefully into the tub, joining you on the other side, legs tangled. “Thank you,” you manage to say, still feeling a little out of it after a tiring day and a good orgasm.

Jimin beams, glancing away to obscure some of his face. It’s clear to you that the lack of makeup has him feeling a bit vulnerable. His skin is flushed red - either naturally or from exertion you couldn’t tell - and his brows were softer, eyes looking smaller without the shadow that emphasised them. He wasn’t any less beautiful like this, just more human. Comforting, in a way, as he passes you a washcloth and begins to lather himself up in strawberry-scented bodywash.

“Hey, Y/n,” Jimin starts, but his voice sounds weirdly stilted and unlike him.

“Mm?”

“My, um, my…” He lets out a light cough, avoiding your gaze with an air of forced aloofness. “Granny keeps asking about you. She’s convinced we’re dating, but that’s, uh, I’ve assured her we aren’t. She really liked you, and whenever we chat she asks to speak to you, and, um…”

You feel more coherent than you have in a good couple hours, sitting upright. “She does?”

Jimin laughs ruefully. “I never really knew how to ask you if you wanted to speak to her, or if I should even ask you at all-”

“So you thought now, while we’re both naked in a tub after you fucking my brains out is the right time?”

Jimin’s cheeks colour more as he splutters. “You can say no, I just didn’t want you to… I don’t know. You can say no.”

You beam at him. “I have one rule.”

“What?”

“I’ll hang out with Mrs. Park on one condition.”

The blue-haired boy stares at you warily. “Which is?”

You lean forward with a deadpan expression on your face, making him grimace in worry. “You let me sleep in your bed tonight,” you explain gravely, “I’m running out of options for this Bangasm Bomb thingy, and it’s only fair after you just took me out of commission like that.”

Jimin laughs in relief, throwing his head back with a joyous grin. “Deal! Don’t scare me like that.”

You return his smile, heart swelling from the fondness you hold for him. “Of course I’ll chat with your grandma, Jimin. I love her. She reminds me of you a lot.”

You may have said too much, but Jimin goes lax against the opposite end of the tub, smile never leaving his lips, and you don’t regret it for a second.

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jimlingss · 3 years

Note

hi Kina! may I make a request for a sort of sci-fi au? yn dies but when she opens her eyes, some unfamiliar yet familiar dude takes off his vr goggles and goes “hEy hOw wAs iT?” maybe Joon? or JK? I don’t really mind

↳ Awaken Again

2k || 50% Fluff, 50% Angst || Kim Namjoon

You die with some regrets.

But mostly without. It was a rather unremarkable, mundane life but a happy one where you feel general satisfaction for the choices and decisions you made. Above all, you feel tired. Oh so tired. You’re ready to sleep for a long while. Perhaps forever.

So you surrender to the darkness. Not sure what’s next.

……………………

Suddenly, there’s a burst of light.

It floods your vision, stirring your senses, and a comfortable weight around your head that you didn’t know was there is lifted. A gasp is stolen from your lips, filling your lungs and you realize you’re alive again. It’s hard to see, for your vision to adjust as your lashes flutter, and you squint.

But it eventually does adjust and you see again. Namely, you discover a certain man with sparkling irises and a dimpled smile in front of you.

“Hey.” His voice is deep, soft. It ignites an emotion stowed deep in your heart. “How was it?”

Your mouth draws open and your feeble voice croaks out, “Namjoon?”

His smile fades as he searches your expression and you fall out of the chair, frantically grabbing onto the sleeves of his white lab coat. You pull him into a hug and cry out, “Oh my god, Namjoon!”

He’s stiff against your body, not returning your embrace, but you don’t pay any mind. You’re too overwhelmed from seeing him again. “Is-Is this heaven?” you ask while shutting your eyes and savouring the moment.

“What? No.” He looks over his shoulder and you don’t know where to.

You pull away but keep him in your reach, your hands curled into his clothes. “But if this isn’t heaven, then how is this possible?”

Namjoon’s hands wrap around your shoulders and he takes a step back, lowering his height slightly to have his eyes connect to yours. “Y/N, do you know where you are?”

“What?”

“You’ve woken up to reality,” he enunciates gingerly and carefully. “You were just in a VR simulation for the past few years. We’ve been watching you.”

You don’t understand. It doesn’t make any sense.

He’s scaring you. “What are you talking about? What’s going on, Joon?”

Namjoon leans back and looks towards the glass window. “Subject two has no recollection of past memories and no grasp of reality,” he deadpans in a monotone. “Will need monitoring for further investigation of potential symptoms and ramifications of simulation 230616.”

He turns back to you, a large distance kept between your bodies. As if you were strangers to each other. He merely says, “Everything will be okay.”

It does little to reassure you. And the Namjoon that you’re familiar with is nothing but reassuring.

Instead of dying, instead of surrendering to the darkness, you’ve been placed in a room with stark white floors, walls, a bed and a tinted window. Fluorescent lights burn your lids and you feel frightened, but it’s coming back to you. Slowly.

You cradle yourself, murmuring, “I am Y/N L/N.”

They said you were placed in a simulation. “I am twenty eight.” The ninety years you lived wasn’t real.

“I am a software engineer and scientist at Realtion.”

You recall some parts as if they were distant memories of your childhood. Blurred. Faint. But even then, they’re merely fragments of a whole mirror, puzzles of a much larger piece. You remember being excited after you were picked to be one of the first to test the simulation. You remember getting into the chair, remembering placing the headset over your head and covering your eyes. You remember the countdown of a smooth, dulcet voice — the same one that had greeted you when it was all over.

The door opens and you jolt.

The person that enters is the same one you’ve been thinking about.

Namjoon ducks his head to get in. “I don’t know why they make these goddamn doors so small.”

You smile unintentionally. But it’s easy to relax when it’s him.

“I hope I wasn’t interrupting,” he says.

“Interrupting what? I’m being monitored like a lab rat. There’s nothing for you to interrupt.” To prove your point, you open your arms to your surroundings. It’s pretty obvious what they think about you considering the walls and floor are plush. This isn’t any different from a padded cell save for the few furniture pieces.

Namjoon shuts the door and gives you an incredulous expression. “Don’t be like that. They’re just worried.”

“Of my psychological state? Yeah.” You lean against the wall, seated on your bed. “Might be normal though considering I thought that simulation was my reality and I barely remember anything of my actual reality.”

He snorts. “The simulation has a few kinks, but we can iron it out. It might be a bit too immersive.”

You deadpan, “You think?”

Namjoon grins and takes a seat on the uncomfortable white chair by the desk. “It’s good to see you returning to yourself. Everyone’s missed you, Y/N.”

You hum a low note, looking away.

It’s hard to cope and you’re still traumatizing on multiple levels, but that doesn’t mean your entire personality will suddenly up and vanish. If anything, you know you’re being rather snippy towards everyone — that you’re taking out your anger on them even though it’s unwarranted. It’s not like they were the ones who forced you to step into the simulation. It’s not like they knew this would happen.

But that doesn’t mean you aren’t upset.

Everything you lived for, everything you loved, your entire life — it’s been a lie. A virtual reality.

“Why are you here?” you ask after the silence is prolonged.

“I just wanted to check up on you.”

You pause. “How many.”

“How many…?”

You look back at him, gaze meeting his. “How many people were watching?”

Namjoon hesitates, but he answers you. “Just three. Me, Jimin and Hoseok.”

A scoff emits from your throat and you roll your eyes. You can’t believe all of the private moments in your life were being observed and recorded by others the entire time. You really were a lab rat and you still are.

“It’s confidential, Y/N,” Namjoon says. “You know that. Nothing unnecessary will be written in the final report.”

“It’s still intrusive,” you spit and soften, knees pressed against your chest as if physically curling into yourself is all the protection you have left. “It’s just….it’s just hard to cope with.”

“I know,” he murmurs gently.

“I don’t think you do,” you bite back. “I lived this entire life, this full life and to know everything was just a figment of my imagination, that nothing was real, that we—” You interrupt yourself. “Never mind.”

You know if you get too upset and your blood pressure spikes, a whole team might run in. Or maybe they already know Namjoon’s in here with you.

“You don’t need to worry about it,” he pipes up, reassuring but in the moment you want it least. “The world you were in, it was constructed by your subconscious. You couldn’t control it. And relationships are built on the people who are close to you.”

There’s a moment of quiet. You hope he doesn’t say it, but he does—

“So it’s only natural that we ended up married and with kids and all that.”

You scoff.

There’s an array of emotions that overwhelm you. Hurt that Namjoon could brush off sixty years of your marriage like that and what was so entirely real to you. Mortified that others saw how your subconscious built an intimate relationship with a colleague of yours. Confused at what you feel, how you yearn for the man across the room who you once called your dear husband— but it wasn’t real. It wasn’t real.

So these feelings aren’t real.

Right?

“If it’s only natural, then how come we’re not together in this ‘reality’.” It’s a bold question, but there’s no point in reserving yourself. You’ve already lived ninety years, so you know what kind of regrets are born in the face of hesitation and miscommunication. Confrontation is easy after so much experience. “You saw everything, didn’t you? You watched it all?”

Namjoon is quiet. “I did.”

“Then what do you think?”

You want to ask him how he felt about it. If he viewed that life with cold eyes and an impassive mind or if he possibly felt something, even as a bystander.

“Was our relationship really just a wild part of my subconscious, Namjoon?”

The hurt you feel burrows deeper when he turns away from you in an extended silence. Your lips part, about to tell him to go away, so you don’t confuse the simulation with reality. But he beats you to the punch—

“It was my fault,” Namjoon murmurs and your head whips up to him. Your gazes connect. “That night before you were going into the simulation, I said something I shouldn’t have.”

“What do you mean?”

“I….I knew you were going into the simulation for two years, so I thought I’d take my chance and if the outcome was bad, I would’ve been gone by then. I was an idiot. I didn’t know this would happen, that it would affect your subconscious so much.”

You slide off your bed, brows furrowed. “What did you say to me?”

Silence.

You come closer to him, raising your voice— “What did you tell me, Namjoon?!”

“I said I couldn’t stop thinking about you!” Namjoon’s eyes are darkened with regret, burning with embarrassment and shame. “We went out for drinks and I drank too much and I told you that if you wanted me to, I would wait for you. Until this was done.” He pulls a hand through the blonde strands of his hair, and he gets up from his spot. “There’s no point. You don’t remember it.”

But you grab him before he leaves, clutching the sleeve of his white lab coat. “What did I say?”

Desperation aches deep within you. A curiosity that eats at your brain.

Namjoon looks back at you and relays the memories you don’t have. “You said I shouldn’t wait for you, but if things don’t change and the timing is right, you’ll give your answer when you get back.”

Your breath hitches in your throat. Namjoon searches your expression. It’s an intimate moment without interruption where you don’t care who might be watching or if there’s someone on the other side of the window. It feels like there’s just you and Namjoon. All that really matters.

Yet he forces you to let go of him. “I don’t want you to get confused with the simulation and reality.”

“Does it matter if it was real or not? What I feel is real. What I feel for you is real,” you spit as your annoyance surges. “Everyone keeps telling me what’s real or fake but no one wants to acknowledge that my experiences were real to me! Isn’t that the point of the simulation?!”

Namjoon’s eyes have widened. Your breathing is ragged, chest falling and rising. “I spent sixty years with you, Namjoon! We grew old together. And do you know what my first thought was when I saw you again?” You laugh bitterly. “‘Thank god he’s here, I can be with him again’.”

There are tears in your eye, welling up and blurring your vision.

Namjoon doesn’t utter a single word. He doesn’t make any excuses, any rebuttals, and doesn’t argue. He stops invalidating what you feel and instead closes the distance and embraces you.

His arms wrap around your shoulders and you lean into him, savouring it and shutting your eyes.

You know Namjoon’s worries have merit to it, that the others will think the same as he does. They’ll think you’re confusing the simulation with reality, that your ability to differentiate has weakened, that your feelings were manifested and nurtured by the simulation. They’ll think this isn’t real.

But time will tell.

You’ve already stood the test of time with Namjoon once. You have a feeling, a second time won’t be difficult.

#bts fanfic #bts scenario #namjoon fanfic #namjoon scenario #bts sci-fi #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #verryy interesting concept anon #thanks for sending it in #jimlingss #Anonymous

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jamaisjoons · 4 years

Text

intro: her mini #6 ⤑ knj | m.

⟶ 𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦:〝 you enter namjoon’s life in the most unexpected of ways, but will you be able to stay, especially when he comes with three adorable but chaotic children, even more chaotic best friends and a bitch of an ex-wife? not to mention your own emotional baggage. 〞singe dad au.

❥ 𝑝𝑎𝑖𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔: single dad!namjoon x marine vet!reader

❥ 𝑔𝑒𝑛𝑟𝑒: fluff

❥ 𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 2.5k

⟶ 𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: none really, reader n joon r incredibly sappy and i both hate n love them, there's some kissing but rly this is just soft fluffiness uwu

➵ 𝑎/𝑛: i lowkey hate half of this but yolo it is what it is

⏤ beta read by my girlfriend @peekaboongi // commissioned in exchange for blm donations

⇥ Main Series Masterlist

On Hoseok’s birthday, you find yourself on a private yacht in order to celebrate. As usual, you’re surrounded by Namjoon, his sons, as well as Yoongi, Seokjin and, of course, Hoseok himself - who wanted a quiet dinner in order to celebrate. Though, realistically, a quiet dinner with three children isn’t exactly possible. Ship coasting on the gentle waters of the Han River, you enjoy the mellow, lightly chilled, breeze wafting through your hair. Despite being at the end of winter, thanks to the space heaters littered around the deck, you barely feel the cold wind.

“Noona can you help me with this?” Jungkook asks from his seat beside you - his sweet voice pulling you out of your reverie. Shifting your gaze to him, you note the way he’s pointing at the large prawn sitting on his plate - the crustacean marinated in garlic butter as it glistens under the waning sunlight.

With a kind smile, “Sure, Gukkie,” you reply before reaching over. Easily, you break off the head of the prawn before squeezing the meat out the shell and placing it onto his plate.

“You did that awfully easily, ____” Hoseok comments as he swallows down the morsels of lobster he’s chewing on. Gaze shifting to him momentarily, you casually shrug your shoulders before turning to help Jungkook deshell the rest of his prawns.

“Me too, Noona! I can’t eat my clams,” Taehyung pipes in from beside Namjoon. And shortly after him, “And my crab!” Jimin calls out from next to his twin.

Angling your head to both of them, you frown slightly - a little confused by their requests. “Have you never eaten seafood before?” you question, a small, puzzled frown marring your lips. Taking pity on the twins, you watch as Yoongi and Seokjin pull their plates besides them - helping them clean their seafood. Simultaneously, Seokjin lets out a little snort before turning his attention to you.

“Are you kidding? With Namjoon as their father?” Seokjin playfully teases, sending a pointed glance towards your boyfriend. For a moment you frown, not really understanding his words, and then, it dawns on you; your lips forming a perfect ‘o’. Namjoon doesn’t like eating seafood. Nonetheless, from your right side, you hear your boyfriend huff.

“It’s not my fault I don’t like eating seafood,” he mumbles under his breath, his lips pursing into a small pout.

“But that doesn’t mean you can’t feed your sons seafood - there’s no reason they should miss out on it,” Yoongi butts in, and though your concentration is firmly on Jungkook’s food, you can clearly hear the playfulness in Yoongi’s voice.

“Yeah, Namjoonie, you may not like seafood, but your sons do,” Hoseok chimes in with a snicker. Done with deshelling Jungkook’s food, you turn your attention back to the adults, only to notice the slight tinge on Namjoon’s cheeks and the amused smiles on Yoongi, Hoseok and Seokjin’s faces.

“You don’t know if they like seafood or not, they’ve barely eaten it,” Namjoon tries to argue, and you shake your head slightly, already knowing he’s fallen into their trap. As soon as those words escape your boyfriend’s lips, you watch as identical, wry grins creep onto their faces.

“Oh really?” Hoseok questions, an impish twinkle in his eyes. Brown eyes alighting with mirth, he directs his attention to the boys, “Jiminie, Taehyungie, Jungkookie, do you like seafood?” Hoseok questions. Finally catching on to where this is going, a look of exasperation colours Namjoon’s face as he sullenly takes another bite of his steak.

Hearing Hoseok’s question, the boys immediately beam with bright smiles before nodding ecstatically. “It’s Hobi-hyung’s favourite so I like it lots!” Jimin replies, his cheeks puffing up as his eyelids form little crescent shapes.

Instantly, Hoseok begins cooing at the oldest twin, “That’s a good boy. Here you go, you can have a piece of my lobster,” he says while picking up some of the meat and passing it onto Jimin’s plate. Seeing the large chunk of meat, Taehyung and Jungkook immediately perk up.

“Hobi-hyung! I like seafood too!” Taehyung and Jungkook call out at once, causing Yoongi, Hoseok and Seokjin all to guffaw at once. From beside you, however, Namjoon lets out a defeated sigh with another shake of his head.

“I can’t believe my own sons have betrayed my like this,” he dramatically mutters under his breath. An inkling of pity runs through you, and reaching your hand out, you comfortingly pat Namjoon’s thigh.

“Not only your sons, but your girlfriend too,” Seokjin says while pointing his knife towards your plate, where small, empty oyster shells sit on the edge of it.

Pout deepening, “I can’t believe you too, babe,” Namjoon laments, causing you to quirk an eyebrow.

“And why is that?” you question, the corners of your lips twitching in amusement.

“Because! You’re a marine veterinarian! How can you work with them and then also eat them… especially when they’re so cute,” Namjoon replies, and though you want to laugh, the soft look on his face - from his adorable pout to the way his cheeks are tinged in embarrassment - prevents you from doing so.

“You know I mainly work with marine mammals right, Joon?” you gently point out, then after a brief pause, “Besides, I just like seafood,” you continue while patting his strong thigh.

“Maybe you should try some, Namjoon. Here, I’ll even give you my prawn,” Seokjin says while holding out the large crustacean towards your boyfriend. Immediately, a look of horror crosses Namjoon’s face as he baulks. Rolling your eyes, you chuck your cloth napkin at Seokjin in playful ire.

“Okay, okay, that’s enough, let Namjoon eat his steak in peace,” you say. Turning his attention to you, Seokjin levels his best puppy dog eyes at you; but you simply roll your eyes and send him a pointed glare, causing him to give in with a chuckle.

“Thanks, ____. You’re the only one who supports me here,” Namjoon sighs dramatically before leaning over and pressing a kiss to your temple. Angling your head, you smile brightly at him, and instinctively, you move to press a kiss onto his lips. However, immediately, Namjoon jerks back before his nose crinkles in mock distaste. “Absolutely not, you’ve been eating seafood,” he teases, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

The moment the words fall from his lips, your jaw drops open as you gape at his - surprise written all over your face at his rejection. When you hear Yoongi, Hoseok and Seokjin begin snickering from opposite you, you quickly shut your mouth before lightly smacking Namjoon’s thigh. Bottom lip jutting out, you huff, “That’s the last time I defend you,” you mumble under your breath. With a light chuckle, Namjoon leans in before pressing a kiss to the corner of your lip.

“I was only joking, Angel. You know I love kissing you no matter what,” he says, his voice low as his breath fans your lips.

Face softening at his words, you roll your eyes before acquiescing to him. “Yeah, yeah. Just eat your stupid steak,” you reply, causing Namjoon to grin and smack a wet kiss onto your cheek.

The rest of the dinner passes smoothly - the boys taking over the conversation as they ask a hundred and one questions about everything and anything under the sun. Eventually, however, the conversation pauses, in order to sing Hoseok a happy birthday while he cuts the cake before the eight of you share your dessert. As you continue enjoying the evening, the sun slowly fades behind the horizon, the sky darkening as night falls over, which brings you to now.

You’re currently standing at the edge of the deck - leaning on the railing while you look out at the landscape. Indolently, the yacht moves over the water, the large skyscraper buildings that make up the metropolitan of Seoul gently flitting by. The sun has completely set now, and the dark of the night only draws attention to the bright neon lights that pass you. A fresh breeze blows through the air, causing goosebumps to prickle at your skin. It’s cooler now, the crisp night air wafting over your skin as a shiver runs down your spine. Instinctively, you nestle further into Namjoon’s coat, relishing in both the scent and warmth of the large woollen jacket.

Idle chatter murmurs through the air as the conversation continues between the adults, though, you barely participate - more than happy to simply watch the landscape pass and soak it all in. Somewhere along the deck, you can hear the twins and Jungkook running around; playing a game of tag as they try to entertain themselves. Closing your eyes, you take in a deep breath - smelling the fresh air around you - before exhaling deeply. Suddenly, however, you’re broken out of your thoughts, when you feel someone tug at the hem of your dress.

“Are you okay, Noona?” Jimin asks as he looks up at you in worry. Heart clenching at the concern etched onto his delicate features, you grace him with a smile before nodding.

“I’m alright, Puppy,” you reply. Jimin frowns for a moment, his head tilting to the side - almost as if he doesn’t believe you. However, after a couple of moments, he relents with a nod. Instead, he raises his arm for you to pick him up. Bending over, you easily lift him into your arms, the small boy tucking his head under your chin as he directs his gaze out to the river.

“Noona? Are there dolphins in the Han River?” he questions, as he points out at the large body of water, and you can’t help but chuckle at the curiosity in his tone.

“No, Puppy. Han River is made up of freshwater, and while there are a few freshwater dolphins, most of the species live in saltwater,” you reply easily.

Jimin nods under your chin, but before he can open his mouth again, “Noona!” twin cries echo across the night, and the two of you are joined by his siblings. Taehyung and Jungkook come up to either side of you, Jungkook looking up with a small pout as he notices his older brother in your arms. However, rather than saying anything, he simply shrugs it off after a few moments, and turns his attention to the river.

“What about sharks? Do you think sharks live in the Han River?” Taehyung asks.

“Or maybe stingrays?” Jungkook pipes in with his own, and you laugh lowly at their questions. Clearly, they must have overheard your conversation with Jimin. Nonetheless, before you can reply, you’re joined by the rest of the party.

“How about orcas?” Seokjin questions with a squeaky laugh as he joins you.

“Hmmm, no, but maybe seals?” comes Hoseok’s playful addition.

“I’d like to think giant tortoises live in the Han River myself,” Yoongi says with a sage nod. You know all their additions are completely whimsical, yet you can’t shake your head at their teasing antics.

“Hmmm, what about whales, ____?” Namjoons asks as he comes up behind you, and with his question, you let out a deep sigh of fond exasperation, causing all of them to chuckle. Within your arms, Jimin begins fidgeting, making you bend over and put him back on the desk.

With Jimin out of your arms, Namjoon uses the opportunity to wrap his own arms around your waist before pulling you into his chest. Warmth encasing your back, you exhale deeply and nestle further into his frame. Silence falls over the atmosphere, with only the gentle whirring of the yacht’s engine and the soft sound of water rippling breaking the calmness. The eight of you stare out at the open river as the ship begins making its way back to the marina.

“It’s really pretty out here, isn’t it?” you ask quietly, your words barely audible. In fact, your voice is so low, that only your boyfriend hears you. Bending his head, he nuzzles his nose into your hair before taking a deep breath.

“Not as pretty as you,” comes his reply. Despite the cheesiness of his words, you can’t stop the grin that creeps onto your lips. Twisting in his hold, you wind your arms around his thin waist while looking up at him through the thick of your eyelashes.

“I could say the same about you, you know,” you teasingly backfire. The corners of his lips twitching, Namjoon bends his head and drags the tip of his nose against yours, causing your eyes to flutter at the ministration.

“Are you saying I’m pretty?” he asks, the deep timbre of his voice tremoring through the air as his warm breath washes over your face.

“I am, indeed. In fact, I think you’re the prettiest,” you respond, making Namjoon snort in amusement. Puckering his lips, his peppers your mouth in soft kisses, making you sigh in contentment.

“I think we’ll have to agree to disagree then, because I think you’re the prettiest,” he replies, each of his words broken up by even more of his gentle pecks. Once he’s done speaking, Namjoon places his lips fully onto yours, the thick petals of his mouth slotting perfectly against yours. Tongue flicking out, he licks the seam of your lips in a bid for entrance, but rather than giving it, you pull away. Namjoon frowns at your actions, his eyebrow quirking in question as you grace him with a lop-sided, mischievous grin.

“I thought you didn’t want to kiss me because I taste like seafood,” you remind him. The moment the words fall out your lips, Namjoon’s frown morphs into a playful smirk.

“Hmmm, but you taste like wine now,” he says, before once again dropping his lips onto yours. This time, you’re unable to resist him, and immediately, your mouth parts open in access. Using the opportunity, Namjoon’s tongue slips between your teeth; the silken appendage sliding along yours tantalisingly.

Your kiss only lasts a couple of moments, before suddenly, “Ew, Daddy! Noona! Gross,” and, “Honestly, can you both go two minutes without eating each other’s faces?” echoes through the dark night. Face flushing with heat, the two of you instantly break apart. Reflexively, you bury your face into Namjoon’s chest: in an attempt to hide your mortification, while your boyfriend simply holds you tighter in comfort.

“Hey, ____?” Hoseok calls, and hearing the faux innocence in his voice, your eyes narrow. Turning your head from Namjoon’s chest, you look over at him with a quirked eyebrow. “It’s my birthday you know… So I think if anyone deserves a kiss, it should be me,” he continues with waggling eyebrows. With a blank stare, you gaze at him, your brain slowly processing his words. It only takes you a few short moments, but once you do, you can’t help but snort.

“Sure Hoseok, why not,” you sarcastically remark - already knowing he’s only teasing you. Waggling his eyebrows harder, Hoseok puckers his lips dramatically before making kissy faces at you. However, this time, before you can say anything, you find your boyfriend huffing.

Wrapping his arms tighter around you, he levels a small glare at Hoseok before tilting your body away from his best friend. “Yeah, birthday or not, I don’t think so.”

a/n: ᵘʷᵘ thank you for reading! i hope you enjoyed it! please lemme know what you thought if you did 🥺👉🏼👈🏼

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taetaespeaches · 4 years

Text

“This is weird, isn’t it?”

namjoon x reader (or oc) genre: fluff word count: 3.4K

a/n: This is where shit gets weird between Joon and Daisy (so, like right away). The morning after their supposed to be one-night stand in “Lead the way, Dimples”, they realize that they don’t want it to be a one time deal. Therefore, Joon asks Daisy to stay at his place before he leaves to work... like who does that? Anyways, I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :))

TOMORROW’S problem. Those were the words playing inside your head as you fell asleep in the arms of the man who was meant to be a one-night stand. Well, “tomorrow’s problem” had turned into “today’s problem” and you had no idea how to handle the problem.

Peeling your eyes open slowly, you were met with the sun beams shining through the blinds, casting Namjoon’s chest in a golden glow that made his skin look even more gorgeous than it was in the moonlight. His exposed skin reminded you of his and your own nakedness, further reminding you of the previous night.

The sex was good. Really fucking good. That’s why I stayed the night, you thought to yourself. It had nothing to do with the way every touch he laid upon your body felt like it was meant for you, not only in this lifetime but in all your past existences. No, because relationships are messy and love never works out the way lovers want it to.

But his body was so warm and comforting pressed against your own. And he snored and for some reason you found that endearing. You watched the rise and fall of his chest, simultaneously hoping he’d wake up in that moment so you could speak to him in the light of day, while also wishing he’d stay in slumber as to prolong the inevitable walk of shame. What a shame that walk would be, leaving behind something, someone, that felt so right. No, this is just a hook up.

As Namjoon stirred, a groan rumbling against his chest as the snoring cut out, you didn’t know whether you should alert him to your consciousness or if you should take the cowardly option and feign sleep. Well, you never did claim to be brave. Shutting your eyes, you attempted to keep your body still, but relaxed, as if you were still asleep and blissfully unaware of the pending awkwardness that was to ensue.

“Babe?” Namjoon suddenly asked, his voice sexy in all its morning roughness, especially when calling you that simple term of endearment. When you didn’t respond, the man chuckled. “I know you’re awake,” he told you, your body tensing as you held your breath. Defeatedly, you lifted your face from his chest to look up at him, finding him smiling at you with an arm tucked under his head for support.

“How did you know?” You pouted, trying to play off your childish act. “Is my acting that bad?” You asked, hoping to joke your way out of the impending tension.

Namjoon smiled widely, shaking his head. “No, it’s just,” he paused as you tucked your hand underneath your chin against his chest. “You snore,” he told you, you holding back an embarrassed smile as the man unabashedly laughed at your expression.

“Oh my god,” you breathed out, dropping your forehead to his chest, the man letting out an adorable but teasing laugh.

“It’s really cute,” he complimented, you groaning as the man continued to chuckle at you.

“You snore too,” you retorted, lifting your head to look at him again, meeting his fond smile. Your hair had fallen into your face just slightly, the man gently reaching to tuck the strand behind your ear.

“I’ve been told,” he agreed, you raising your eyebrows in question.

“Other sleeping partners?” You asked brazenly, secretly hoping you were wrong. No, get a grip. He’s a hook up.

“No,” he chuckled. “No, I actually don’t do this,” he gestured to your nude bodies with a nod of his head, “very often.” You hummed in understanding, ignoring the ache in your chest at the reminder that this was just a one-time thing. The man ran his hand over top your hair before settling it on your shoulder blade, massaging your shoulder gently.

“That’s surprising to me,” you told him with a flirty edge in your tone, the man humming in wonder. “I just mean, you’re hot,” you smiled, “and really good.”

You watched as he smiled bashfully, dimples on full display as he squeezed his eyes shut. Fuck you were smitten. A hook up. “Well, no,” he said again through his smile. “I don’t really do this kind of thing often.”

Observing him thoughtfully, you found yourself wanting to know more about him. “And why don’t you?” You asked him, the man’s smile slowly fading as he stared down at you.

“I’m not very good at it,” he said bashfully, you pulling a look of disagreement.

“I would have to disagree, Dimples,” you told him through a smile, the man squeezing his eyes shut with an embarrassed chuckle.

“I mean, I just prefer connecting with people,” he said simply, but the words echoed in your thoughts for days after he spoke them. Partially because of the endearing fact that he was as good looking and successful as he was, he still wanted pure connection with the people he slept with. But perhaps also because you knew there was a connection between you both, no matter how much you wanted to deny it.

Gently, he grabbed your waist, guiding you to roll onto your side as he rolled onto his as well so you were facing each other. “Hey,” he whispered, now that your faces were level with each other’s.

“Hi,” you whispered back with a fond smile.

Reaching out to cradle your jaw in his hand, he soothed his thumb over your cheek. The action felt so intimate, especially for the morning after a hook up, but it also felt comfortable. Leaning into his touch, you found yourself craving more of his simple affections. It is just a hook up.

“Wait, who complains about your snoring?” You suddenly asked, a smile nearly spreading across Namjoon’s face before it was quickly replaced by a look of panic.

“Fuck, my members,” he said suddenly, sitting up quickly as he reached for his phone. “Shit,” he huffed, “I’m gonna be late.”

“Oh fuck,” you sat up as well, holding the blankets to your chest. “I’m off today, I didn’t even think-”

“No, no, no, it’s not your fault,” he assured you, pressing a quick peck to your lips, the casualness of the action taking you by surprise. Is this just a hook up?

You watched as he scrambled out of the bed, clumsily, appreciating the view of his bare body before he pulled some clothing on. It was really unfair that he looked just as good dressed up in the baggy cargo pants and sweatshirt as he did nude. Of course he had to be effortlessly stylish as well. Just add it to the whole fucking package he was shaping up to be.

“To answer your question,” he started as he looked around the room for certain belongings. “My members complain about my snoring all the time. Since I got my own place and therefore don’t stay at the dorm as much, the complaining has lessened, but I still get teased.”

“Ah,” you said in realization, nodding as you watched him throw a laptop into his bag.

“I’m surprised you got any rest,” he laughed at himself, squeezing his eyes together as he did, you smiling adoringly at the expression.

“I’m a deep sleeper,” you told him through your smile. “It kind of seems like we were made to sleep together,” you teased, not sure why you spoke the words when this was supposed to just be a hook up.

Finally making the connection that he was about to leave for work and you were still naked in his bed, you moved to get up. “No, you don’t have to leave,” he told you quickly. “Take your time.” Wide-eyed, you observed him carefully. You couldn’t actually stay there, could you? I mean, I shouldn’t, right? He’s just a hook up. We just met, that would be really weird. Instead of listening to the voice of reason inside your head, you listened to Namjoon’s.

“So, you’re an idol, right?” You found yourself asking, curious of the job he was rushing out the door to get to.

“I am,” he nodded. “I hope that doesn’t freak you out,” he added, you shaking your head. “I would understand if it did.”

“I mean, it does a little but you’re just a person,” you started, Namjoon’s eyes softening as he stopped his busy movements to look at you. “A ridiculously handsome person, but a person,” you added, Namjoon laughing as he went back to cramming more items into the bag. “What’s your position?”

The man paused again as he watched you carefully for a moment, inspecting you from your spot on the bed. “Are you really interested?” He asked, your eyebrows pulling together curiously.

“Yeah,” you confirmed simply, Namjoon slowly nodding.

“I’m a rapper,” he told you. “And a leader,” he added a bit less confidently. “Songwriter and producer.”

“Wow, you do a lot,” you noted, impressed. “It suits you,” you agreed, Namjoon chuckling as he raised his eyebrows. “Now that you told me, I actually can’t see you in any other position.”

He smiled shyly as he zipped up the bag. “I want to know what you do too,” he told you as he slipped the bag’s strap over his shoulder.

“It’s not nearly as exciting,” you told him, Namjoon immediately shaking his head in disagreement.

“Maybe you can tell me about it when I get back?” He asked, walking toward you.

You should have said no. You should have said you were leaving. Why weren’t you dressed yet? With Namjoon getting closer and closer to you, you found yourself just sitting there lamely as you awaited the kiss he was obviously planning to give you by the way he seductively stared at your lips.

Inches from your face, he smiled. “Good morning, by the way,” he told you, you returning his smile as you inched your face just the slightest bit closer to him.

“Good morning, Dimples” you replied softly, just as Namjoon closed the gap, pressing his lips to yours for the second time that morning, though this one was much more passionate than the last as he deepened it almost instantly. The kiss was soft and his lips were perfectly plush. One kiss made you want more of them, and in that moment, his mouth working against your own, you didn’t care how strange this whole interaction was.

Maybe it isn’t just a hook up.

Breaking away from the kiss reluctantly, you placed a hand to his face, feeling his soft skin under your fingers. “You’ll be late.”

He hummed in frustration, resting his forehead against your own. “You can stay here,” he told you. “I mean it.”

“Namjoon,” you sighed, not sure of what to do.

“I’m leaving it up to you,” he told you, and you realized that he was. You could walk out that door and never come back, leaving not even a phone number or a single trace that you were ever there. And that respect he had for you to decide yourself may have been the very thing that drove you to kiss him once more, softly, already having made your mind up.

“Thank you,” you said simply, the elusive but appreciative comment making Namjoon smile as he pressed his lips to yours again, deepening the kiss but keeping it slow and passionate.

Breaking away, he hurried toward the bathroom . Sounds of rummaging, cabinets and drawers opening and closing, and the sound of the sink turning on and off echoed into the bedroom. Whereas you should have taken the moment of alone time to think over what the fuck you were still doing in your one-night stand’s bed, you instead got distracted by looking around the room, smiling fondly at the number of figurines that lined the walls.

Suddenly, Namjoon stepped back into the room with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth. “Hey, I managed to find a new toothbrush,” he told you through his mouthful of toothpaste, “I’ll just leave it on the counter.” You nodded as he disappeared around the door frame again, only to pop back in immediately. “And feel free to take a shower,” he added, “if you want.”

“Ok,” you giggled as you watched him leave again. Searching around the bedroom floor, you tried to find all your pieces of clothing, spotting all but your panties when Namjoon walked back in.

“I have to go,” he told you, “but I’ll be back in a few hours.” You simply nodded at the man, watching as he neared you, easily slotting his lips against yours as if he had done it a thousand times before. Maybe he had, who were you to say he hadn’t kissed you in a million lifetimes before this one. He is a hook up, my god woman.

Pulling away just slightly so his lips hovered over top yours, he sighed against your mouth. “Please be here when I get back,” he begged with a desperate smile, you giggling at the expression as he backed away.

No other words were spoken between the both of you, you simply watching him back all the way out of the room, not wanting to look away from you just in case it was the last time he’d ever see you. And fuck did you look perfect tangled in his sheets with your bare shoulders exposed, a smitten smile plastered to your face.

He stared a moment longer before you smiled and shooed him away, the man’s dimples indenting his cheeks as he forced himself to leave. The front door opened and closed a few moments later, leaving you alone in his apartment, which was a trusting move from the man. You adored the slight naivity he seemed to possess and it made you want to stick around even more. This is obviously not just a hook up. Fuck.

Rising from the bed, you held the sheet to your body as you walked around his bedroom, observing the different figurines and toys, along with the countless notebooks piled upon his table. The leather spines of the journals were worn, evidence to how much they’d been used.

Meandering back to the bed, you caught sight of the books stacked on his bedside table. You had a similar situation on your bedside table, or more appropriately known as the storage table for your favorite novels, stories, and poems.

Intrigued by the title of one of the books, “Sky, Wind, and Stars”, a collection of poems by Yun Dong-ju, you pulled it out from between two thicker books, inspecting the back cover as you lowered yourself back to the mattress.

Opening the collection, you began reading the foreword, already interested in the rest of the works. You read the first few poems, taking in the formation of the carefully selected words. However, what really captured your attention was the pen markings on the pages, underlining and placing small stars next to certain stanzas and sentences.

In the poem, At the Summit, a work about reaching the summit of a mountain and looking down on the small landscape and people below, the line, “I yearn to climb to higher ground” was underlined.

In the poem, Contemplation, the words, “My eyes are loosely shut like a small push-out window. Tonight, love seeps in everywhere, like the dark,” were starred.

“Alas! The field has become desolate — what tears and sobbing! The dream has been shattered; the tower has collapsed” were the lines underlined in A Dream Shattered.

In Mountain Forest, the lines, “When the ticking of the clock beats in my heart, I grow anxious and the forest on the mountain calls me… only the stars twinkling through the trees lead me to hope for a new day,” were underlined and starred.

On a lighter note, in the poem, Doves, “Seven little mountain doves, so adorable, I wish I could hold them in my arms,” were underlined. Cute, you thought.

“But there is no one to talk with tonight,” in the poem Water from the Depths of a Mountain Valley; “I inhale deeply on this placid morning, again and again,” in Morning; “I long to walk to places I am familiar with, and perhaps to those I am unfamiliar with,” in the poem titled Grief; “On a still night, when the moon waxes like the rings of a growing tree, love, alone like the moon, grows like such aging rings, filling my heart to aching,” in Like the Moon.

Your favorite, the one that stopped you for a moment as you thought of the man you already knew so intimately, was from the poem What do they live on?

“People by the sea eat the fish they catch. People in the valleys of the mountains eat the potatoes they roast. People on the stars — what do they live on?”

Reading through the poems, paying special attention to the words that were given special emphasis by Namjoon’s pen, you realized the fear Namjoon lived with that he would never feel as though he achieved enough, or that he would achieve too much, and then what happens when it inevitably disappears? Would love catch his fall? Or would he be alone?

A Poem That Came Easily made you think of Namjoon working on music. The accolades he must receive in conjunction to the sacrifices. How music must be the one thing he knows he got right, but how much he must miss out on due to a life dedicated to his work.

“Life is meant to be difficult: is it too bad that a poem comes so easily to me… Extending a small hand to myself, I offer myself the very first handshake, tears, and condolences,” the poem read.

The poem Self Portrait made your heart hurt to read, and you wanted Namjoon to walk through the door so you could hug him.

“And a man is there. I turn my away because I hate the man, somehow. Pondering over him as I set out to leave, I feel sorry for him and go back and look in: he is still there.”

You’d known the man for a grand total of about 12 hours and you already knew the man was beyond worthy of love. How could he not see that in himself?

You didn’t mean to read the entire collection of poems, but as you flipped the last page, you closed the book, deep in thought. And every single thought circling your mind was of Namjoon. A desire to explore his mind struck you and you immediately regretted sleeping with the man upon first meeting. Would you ever be able to be anything more than sexually intimate? Love never works the way lovers want it to, you thought. If you let Namjoon in, you’d be setting yourself up for heartache, you just knew it. But even still, you wanted to know him and you wanted him to know you.

By the time you had taken a shower, the scent of his products taking you back to the previous night, you realized you didn’t have a change of clothes. Wandering around his living room in nothing but a towel you found in a cupboard, you thought about how fucking weird this whole situation was. Why didn’t you leave? I don’t even know this man—

And just when you thought Namjoon couldn’t get any more endearing, you spotted the plants lined up along his window, interrupting your thoughts momentarily. There was a good amount of them, all meticulously trimmed. They were cared for deeply by their gardener, that much was obvious. Their gardener…

Were you just prolonging the inevitable separation from Namjoon by sticking around? You both entered into the previous night with the understanding that it was a one-time thing. But there you were, still in his apartment, and he wasn’t even home. This was weird, people didn’t just do this. Panicking, you decided you needed to leave, striding across the living room in a bee line to get dressed and get out, just when the front door opened.

Snapping your head toward the entrance, you and Namjoon met eyes and a relieved smile spread across his face. Suddenly, you remembered why you stayed.

“You’re here,” he breathed out, as if he had been holding it since he left earlier that morning.

“I am,” you confirmed dumbly. “This is weird, isn’t it?”

“Very,” he chuckled. “But I’m glad you’re here.”

He stayed in the entry way of his apartment for a moment, simply staring at you as if he was making sure he didn’t conjure you up through the power of wishful thinking. Cocking your head at him, you shrugged.

“Welcome home, Dimples.”

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