#bts namjoon idol au | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

riaarivic · 6 months

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HIS - KNJ x F!reader: 1 Into you

💗Pairings idol!NamjoonxReader

💗 Genres idol!AU, Smut, Angst, Romance, Enemies to lovers

💗 Rating 18+ minors DNI

💗 Summary Four years have passed since the last time you saw Kim Namjoon. But now he was right in front of you, with the same stupid warm smile that made your good judgment (and underwear) disappear without a trace. You haven't seen him for four years. But now here you were working for BTS again. Having to see his insufferably attractive face every day of your life again.

But there's something Namjoon doesn't know. The little girl with almond eyes and dimples in her smile clinging to his ex-girlfriend's hip, not only looked too much like him. But she was… His.

💗 Warnings for the series: Unplanned pregnancy (I KNOW BUT HEAR ME OUT) Unprotected sex, foul language, angst, miscommunications, pinning, SO MUCH PINNING, Hurt/comfort. Will update as the series progress. 💗 Warnings for the chapter: reader has very conflictive emotions about the news of her pregnancy at the begining. This chapter will have some back and forth time skips

💗 A/N: ⚠️ dialogue in BOLD is intended to be in English if not, they are speaking in Korean. ⚠️

Love, Ria

💗 Chapter wordcount 3,4k

💗 Series Index 1 2

His 01: Into you

"And baby even on our worst nights. I'm into you" Into you - Paramore.

💗💗💗MARCH 2021💗💗💗

You have to admit, you've been glued to your computer screen for a solid twenty minutes, utterly motionless.

Hyung-Joon, once your boss and now your business partner, just forwarded an email confirming your company's involvement in BTS's upcoming Permission to Dance on Stage tour. The whole team was buzzing with excitement about the colossal job ahead.

It would be the biggest job in your company.

It really was the opportunity of a lifetime, the pay was enough to take Hana on a Disney cruise vacation.

For a whole year.

Three years in a row.

Heck, you could buy the damn boat.

That's how good it would be.

You should be basking in the joy of this achievement.

Yet, the smallest detail casts a shadow over the happiness—precisely, the leader of the band. The young, talented, millionaire, successful, infuriating asshole Kim Namjoon is your daughter's father.

For the tiniest detail, it must be emphasized that he had no intention of being a part of her life.

Fuck him.

He couldn't even summon the decency to meet your gaze when he sent his mother and manager to deliver an envelope full of money, effectively kicking you and your daughter out of Korea.

The memory of it turned your stomach.

💗💗💗JANUARY 2017💗💗💗

An alien.

That's how all the people saw you when you entered Big Hit as if you came from another planet entirely. An alien who spoke their language perfectly, who had not come as part of a tourist excursion, but to work.

They all regarded you as if you had a second head protruding from your back. The security, while registering your information for your access card; the staff, makeup artists, hair stylists—all whispered things as you walked by.

What the hell were you getting yourself into?

The chance of a lifetime, you reminded yourself. The pay might not be extravagant, but the perks of being part of a K-pop group's staff more than compensated for it.

You were going to travel all over the world, meet new people, eat delicious things and most of all… be as far away geographically as possible from where you came from.

This is the opportunity of a lifetime

After navigating several security checkpoints and maneuvering through what felt like a maze of boxes filled with the group's merchandise, materials, and clothing, you reached the office where they awaited you.

The global press department.

Though the term "department" sounded too grand for the small space—more like a converted broom closet with your boss's desk and yours side by side.

"Oh! Miss… um," you smiled as you saw him struggling with the pronunciation of your full name.

"Call me y/n. You must be Manager Hyung-Joon," the man let out a sigh of relief. Despite his imposing stature, dominating the tiny office, a friendly smile adorned his face.

"Miss y/n, you're just in time. They are about to finish a rehearsal, and we are going to start the first practice interviews for the US tour. Did you bring everything you need?" You nodded, and he motioned for you to follow him.

Probably, nothing you had read about this group could prepare you for what lay ahead. As Manager Hyung-Joon swung open the door, the first thing that struck you was the noise.

That room was pure Chaos.

What you'd expect if you left seven practically teenage men to their own devices. They chatted and laughed, appearing at first glance like a bunch of ordinary kids.

Not like the young men who would become the biggest musical act in history.

"Bangtan, can you please be quiet?" the manager shouted, capturing everyone's attention. "This is y/n; she will be your translator from now on." All seven pairs of eyes turned to you simultaneously, and once again, there it was.

That look that made you feel utterly out of place.

According to what you'd been told, it wasn't common for the company to hire young, let alone single, women to work with BTS. Yet, you excelled at your job, armed with a glowing recommendation letter from one of your college professors.

Fast and precise with translations, you also brought experience as a journalist before accepting this position.

And that you accepted the joke of a salary they offered.

The company deemed you useful enough to overlook the fact that you would be the only woman among these men most of the time.

But your integration into the staff didn't happen before their main manager warned them that any attempt at inappropriate behavior towards you would result in drastic consequences.

Not to mention the uncomfortably awkward conversation you had in the president's office, where terms like contraceptives, confidentiality agreements, and the ominous "If you have any kind of relationship with one of the members, we will sue you for everything you have" echoed.

Though you were sure the suitcase you brought to Korea wouldn't be much help to a music company at the time.

The message was clear:

Mess with one of them.

You're out.

It's not like you were interested in a workplace romance; true, they were all attractive, but you needed this job more than anything else in the world.

At that time, Bangtan was gearing up for their promotions in the United States, and they required someone to assist them in English communication.

So they wouldn't be overly dependent on him.

"Do you even speak Korean?" that was the very first words he spoke to you. He wore an expression somewhere between puzzled and annoyed for a moment before turning to speak to Hyung-Joon as if you weren't there. "Are you sure she's not a stalker?"

"I'm a communications major from Busan National University. I also speak Japanese, French, Spanish, and Portuguese. But my first language is English. I suppose that answers your question," you retorted, meeting his gaze challengingly, and he rolled his eyes as if your response bored him.

At the far end of the room, you heard an amused snort; you recognized him from the dossier—his name was Suga.

"Did that lady just shut up Namjoon-hyung?" the youngest among them stared at you as if you were a unicorn, a mythical creature, the weirdest thing he has ever seen, and the older one nudged him to stop staring.

"Nice to meet you all; my name is y/n. I will be your translator, and I hope you can take care of me." You bowed, and when you straightened, you smiled at everyone. He kept his stare locked at you, irritated and unimpressed by your initial response.

That was the beginning of it all.

💗💗💗DECEMBER 2018💗💗💗

Fool.

A complete fool is how you felt, your heart pounding in your chest as you found yourself on your bathroom floor holding a positive pregnancy test. Four years ago, your heart held a different kind of weight, the weight of a secret growing within you.

Two weeks after he had returned to Seoul.

Exactly two weeks after you had told him to get the fuck out of your life.

No. That's not true.

You know better now. He was already gone before you found the strength to let him go. You just hadn't realized it.

So, here you were sitting on your bathroom floor. The weight of your shared history hanging heavily between you. Looking at the abstract pattern on the tiles feeling like a complete idiot.

Feeling guilty for a child who will grow up without a father.

Because...

You thought you were strong enough to handle it. You believed you could navigate motherhood alone, but...

Should you tell him?

Would it be too selfish to unveil this reality now?

How could you shatter his world, now that his career soared to unprecedented heights?

And the company…

You knew The company would go to great lengths to erase you and this secret from existence if necessary..

Kim Namjoon the leader of BTS.

Korea's pride.

Fathering an unplanned child out of wedlock with a foreigner?

It could dismantle everything he had worked for.

And his group. It will destroy them and he will never forgive you for it.

Besides, did you even have the right to reenter his life?

After what you have said to him? After the wounds you carved upon each other?

You wanted to cry, but the tears remained trapped within your eyes.

Kim Namjoon, the man known as RM, the leader of BTS, was your adversary, your lover, the man who once held your heart, and the one who shattered it into irreparable pieces—

All within a year.

💗💗💗NOVEMBER 2019💗💗💗

This is a terrible idea

It took you too long to work up the courage to tell him that you had had a daughter. But you couldn't tell him by phone call or mail.

You mustered all the courage you had and took a plane from Los Angeles to Korea. You definitely did not imagine how extremely difficult 16 hours on a flight with a one year old baby would be.

You had to bribe Jungkook with buying him 10 cartons of banana milk to get his new number.

Calling him was much harder.

"Hello?" His voice, after a year, stirred emotions you believed buried deep within.

You had no idea what to say.

Hi Namjoon, remember me? I'm y/n, your ex-girlfriend, ex-enemy, ex-translator? Oh, by the way, we have a daughter. I'm in Korea. Sorry for not telling you earlier; I panicked, thinking the company might erase us if they found out. Congratulations on the new album.

Definitely not that.

"Hey, Joonie," you blurted, and somehow felt like worse alternative, "I'm in Korea, and I'd like to talk…"

"Yes," he interrupted, his voice as desperate as yours, "I'm sending a driver for you. Where are you staying?"

Two hours later, a black company van awaited you in front of your hotel. It transported you to a far more luxurious apartment complex than their previous dormitory.

They are doing so well.

That made you proud, they deserved every drop of success they had.

But he wasn't in the apartment.

Waiting for you in the living room was a face you'd only seen once—Namjoon's mother, Mrs. Kim Seolmi. Accompanied by bodyguards and a staff member, her gaze held the same mix of disappointment and anger as the first meeting. Her eyes shifted sourly when they landed on Hana, in your arms.

Hana was the vivid image of her father, every feature, dimples, almond eyes, pouty lips, and even her expressions. Seeing Namjoon in her.

It took Mrs. Kim mere seconds to deduce the baby in your arms was her granddaughter.

"He doesn't want to see you, neither you nor the bastard child you're carrying. Did you think you could pass off just anyone's daughter as my son's?" She pulled an envelope from her bag. You knew it contained money. "Take it and leave. A gold-digger like you, using men for money. How disgusting."

"Madam, I don't need your money. If Namjoon doesn't want to see me, he should tell me himself." You clutched your crying daughter, scared by the woman's shouts.

From a corridor emerged Sejin, BangTan's main manager. He always knew everything about them. And his presence here meant The company was already aware that Namjoon had a daughter.

Shit.

"I'm sorry, Miss y/n, but it's true. He asked us to give this to you," Sejin handed you a sealed letter with your name on it, "and this you must sign. It's the only way to prevent the company from taking legal action against you for involving yourself with a member."

"Ha! As if the half-breed was really my Namjoon's daughter."

Oh you were going to kill that woman.

Before you could unleash your thoughts, Sejin spoke again. "y/n, you know what it means to be in a relationship with an idol, let alone having a daughter out of wedlock. This could destroy him and Bangtan. I'm sure you don't want that." His voice carried pity.

"You don't want to go trough this, and we know you don't want to put your daughter through it." He took a breath and sat in front of you. "The company is willing to compensate you for your silence. It's your only option—"

"I don't want your fucking money, Sejin"

"Miss, if you go against the company, we'll have to fight in court, and you could lose custody of your daughter. I'm sorry, but it's true. He didn't want to come when he found out you were coming with your child."

He didn't want to come

When he found out

That you were coming with a child.

Your child.

That phrase echoed in your mind for years. You could still close your eyes and see Sejin's pitiful face—the same one he wore when informing an employee they could no longer work for them.

Because they spoke a second too long with one of them.

Because they smiled at them a little too much.

Because feelings started to emerge.

All were fired and forced to sign mountains of legal documents preventing them from ever speaking about what transpired.

Some were even offered positions at other agencies.

"You're fortunate Bang PDnim decided to compensate you. But it's your decision," he concluded.

Three hours later, you were repacking to return to Los Angeles, vowing never to set foot in Seoul again.

This should never have happened.

As you wiped away tears, your phone buzzed with several notifications.

Message from unknown number: Doll, it's Yoongi. Jungkook told me you were here and you were staying at a hotel in Myeongdon. Message from unknown number: I'm coming to see you.

Message from Cookie 🍪: Y/n Noona, Yoongi Hyung asked me to give him your number. Thanks for the banana milk, you should stop by the dorm and let's drink soju like old times!!!!

Message from NJ: I am so sorry. I hope you can understand.

The last message made you want to throw up.

The phone started vibrating with an incoming call…..

💗💗💗MARCH 2021💗💗💗

"Are you sure you're okay with this?"

Hyun-Joon regarded you with the same concerned eyes he had five years ago when you first met. He had transitioned from being your boss to your business partner and, eventually, one of your dearest friends. A few months after your departure from Korea, he called to share the news of starting their own management agency with a friend.

The startup funds came from the envelope Sejin handed you as compensation for never disclosing the identity of your daughter's father.

At least something good came from shattering your heart into a thousand pieces.

Today, you were the CEO of a flourishing company offering diverse services to music companies in Korea—translators, managers, staff, security; you had it all, and your agency ranked as the best in the market.

It was only a matter of time before you appeared on HYBE's radar.

It was only a matter of time before you found yourself back in the same room as him.

"Of course, this is the best contract the agency has had since we started. We are professionals, and your CEO is no exception," you reassured yourself more than Hyun-Joon.

He scrutinized you, trying to believe your conviction. "Well, let's get ready; they are about to come in."

The sight before you differed vastly from the first time you saw them in the modest conference room at what was then Big Hit. Through the glass door leading to your meeting room, the bodyguards entered first, followed by the new individual managers.

You knew much had changed since your last encounter. Initially, it was just you and a handful of staff members.

Now, it felt as if the President of the United States or Beyoncé were about to make an entrance.

Scratch that, the president's secret service probably had fewer people.

The room was nearly full, yet they hadn't arrived.

Jungkook walked in first. The last time you saw him, he still wore his school uniform. Now, he appeared as if he had stepped out of a novel, exuding a bad-boy aura with tattoos and all-black attire.

Behind him, Taehyung, the shy boy with the innocent smile, wore a designer suit, exuding timeless elegance like the protagonist of an old Hollywood film. You couldn't help but smile at the sight of him.

Jimin seemed unchanged yet transformed simultaneously—beautiful, elegant, with a hint of mischief in his eyes. When he saw you, he smiled discreetly, as if holding back many unspoken words.

Following him, J-Hope entered. His off-stage personality always intimidated you, yet he remained the kindest and most focused among them. That hadn't changed.

Yoongi walked in behind him, smiling genuinely upon seeing you. Among all of them, he was the only one you still maintained contact with. Nonetheless, seeing him in person brought a sense of relief.

Jin came in almost last, and you couldn't help but be amused. Despite not having seen him in person for four years, he hadn't aged a day. Serene as ever, he entered with a respectful bow.

A chill ran down your spine.

They entered in the official order.

From youngest to oldest.

And last.

Him.

Kim Namjoon, always entering last, responsible for introducing them all. Front and center, as always. His now-blond hair caught your attention first. Even beneath his clothes, you could see that he had grown. His arms filled his shirt just like his chest and legs.

Your mind instinctively wandered into territory you almost slapped yourself for entertaining.

You looked up, and he was looking at you. Whether he was surprised or not, his face revealed nothing. With almost a decade in the business, Kim Namjoon knew how to conceal his emotions.

Assuming he had any.

He obviously doesn't care to see you. And who were you to him?—just some woman he was fucking four years ago.

Just

The mother of his daughter.

Your ears buzzed, and you were so deeply lost in your thoughts that you didn't notice when he began talking.

"...it's a pleasure for us to work again with you and your agency," that damn voice, it could still stir emotions in you. "Miss Y/LN, it's also nice to see you again."

Oh, is he going to call you by your last name?

"It's Lee now," your voice sounded cooler than you thought it would, perfect.

"Congratulations, in that case," he stiffened his jaw, and you smiled at him. Simultaneously, several people in the room tensed up.

Ah yes, that was another detail Kim Namjoon obviously didn't know about you.

Eric Lee was your other business partner and your best friend. You had married three years ago so that he could obtain a visa and stay in the US with you.

Eric gave his last name to Hana and had practically raised her with you.

And also.

Eric was completely, totally, and utterly gay.

Your marriage was only on paper.

But that was a detail you weren't going to explain to Kim Namjoon.

By the way… where the hell was he?

Namjoon cleared his throat, snapping you out of your thoughts. "In that case, I think we can start—"

"Mommy!" a little voice interrupted, entering the room. With so many people there, you could only see the top of her dark brown hair. "Uncle said to play hide and seek; can I hide with you?"

Almond eyes.

Dimples in the smile.

The same pouty lips.

Kim Namjoon who was almost 10 years in the industry and knew perfectly well how to hide his emotions, but he looked at the little girl in front of him as if he had just seen an alien.

His face showed a thousand questions.

How old was that little girl?

Why did she have the same eyes as him?

Why had she called you mom?

Did you have a daughter?

The whole room tensed up.

Oh shit, I knew this was a bad idea.

But things happened so fast.

For the first time in her life, Kim Namjoon looked at his daughter's face.

And you were looking at the consecuence of what once was a stolen kiss behind a closed door.

And then evolved to so much more.

A snarky remark.

An irritated snort after others spoke.

A heated argument in a press room.

A few stolen kisses behind the staff room door.

A night in a hotel room.

And despite your reluctance to admit it,

Despite everything.

You would always be

His.

💗💗💗💗💗💗

I KNOOOOOWWWW! Another fic and I haven't finished translating/editing/rewriting/posting Hate!. But Yes, I had to, I had a writers block and decided to pull this one out of the vault of prompts.

Pregnancy troupe? while I'm writing a dark mafia romance? I KNOW But hear me out with this one, it is A RIDE.

I REALLY wanted to write a short agnsty BUT filled with heart clenching romance and.. other things clenching smuttines.

Yes, I'll continue updating Hate! but i would love you a bit if you give this baby a chance... literal baby. AND KIM NAMJOON AS A GIRL DAD!!?? IM NOT GOING TO DEPRIVE MYSELF OF THAT

Ps. If you want to be on the tag list drop a comment below!! 👩🏼‍💻✨

As always love you guys,

Ria 💗

#bts fanfic #bts smut #bts suga #bts #bts imagines #bts au #bts rm #bts romance #bts idol #namjoon #run bts #bts fic #bts scenarios

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euphoricfilter · 10 months

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hello <3 i'm requesting fluff + ceo au + "you're unbelievably cute when you're tired." + OT7 or namjoon, if that's ok!!

lucky flowers:

pairing: ceo! namjoon x florist! reader

genres: fluff || established relationship || non-idol au || ceo au ||

summary: after a hard day at work, it's always nice to be in your safe space; and for you, Namjoon is just that.

word count: 1.1k

tags/ warnings: people, fluff and a lot of comfort. no pronouns are used <3

notes: as always, drabble requests are no longer open and feedback is encouraged so please let me know what you think!

drabble masterlist || my full masterlist

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

There’s a lump on the couch when Namjoon walks into his office. Velvet blanket wriggling with the force of human limbs at the sound of the door clicking shut.

“My love” Namjoon calls out for you, laptop left and forgotten on the rounded coffee table before he sits beside what he assumes is your feet.

You hum. Tugging the blanket under your chin to meet his eyes- as tired and weary as your own.

“You're unbelievably cute when you're tired” he runs a thumb over your cheek, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

You sigh, “Am not”, watching as he tugs his suit jacket off. “Today was the busiest I’ve ever seen the shop. And I was the only one working this afternoon. I think I'm exhausted”

That hint of a smile on Namjoon’s face melts into a frown, eyebrows drawn down with the force of his displeasure.

“You poor thing. Surely there was someone to help you?”

You shake your head, “They clocked out early, so it was just me most of the day” your bottom lip tugs down into a pout, “I hate working at the front desk”

“I know you do, love” he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear, “How are you feeling?”

“Not sure” he watches your shoulders shrug under the blanket, muscles wound tight with the tension of the day.

“Not sure?” his head tilts ever so slightly.

“Tired. But I’m too aware of everything to even think about sleeping. And overwhelmed. Like I wanna itch my brain a bit or remove my ears from my head”

Namjoon hums, “What about a nap? Would music be too much for you at the moment?”

“Probably”

“Silence it is then” he nods, slouching a little further into the back of the couch, “I’ll catch up on some work, and you can tell me all about your day when you feel better? A little less overwhelmed? We can always talk at home later, or in the morning too, whenever you're ready, love”

You tug the blanket over your chin, sinking into the plush cushions, eyes falling shut.

The rhythmic tapping of Namjoon’s keyboard is more welcome than a conversation, and Namjoon doesn’t hold that against you. Knowing that in your own time, the fizzling frustration and wound-up emotions of the day would spill past your lips, unfurling all the bad that had been weighing you down for what he can only assume is most of the day.

“There was a dog in the shop today” you break the silence, maybe an hour later. Voice foreign to your own ears, and you wince a little at the shattered silence.

Namjoon closes his laptop, leaving it on the coffee table once more as he turns his attention back to you.

“A dog?”

“Mhhmm” you push yourself to sit up, blanket still wrapped tightly around your body, “This old man brought his dog in, and then it peed all over the floor and I had to clean it but, he was cute, so I didn’t mind”

“The old man, or the dog?” Namjoon raises an eyebrow.

A smile stretches your cheeks, “Both. I’m not sure what breed the dog was, but the old man told me he was buying flowers for his wife, it’s their anniversary tomorrow”

“Ah, they must have been married for a long time” he muses, and you nod.

“I hope we’re like that one day”

“Old?”

Your nose scrunches up at that, “Old and together” you nod, “And married” you add.

“Is that all?” Namjoon tugs you closer until your body is leaning against his side, his arm slung over your shoulder.

“Yeah. As long as we’re still together then I don’t mind”

“You’re lucky I have no plans of getting rid of you” he hums and your eyebrows furrow at that, head tilting up to catch a look at his face.

“Excuse me?” you scoff, though Namjoon can hear the hint of a smile laced between your words, “if anything, I would be the one getting rid of you”

Now it’s Namjoon’s turn to look down at you with furrowed brows, “I would sure hope not”

“You’re lucky I like you”

“Is that so?” he challenges, head tilting down slightly to press a kiss over the warm skin of your cheek, then to your temple.

Your hand slips from the safety of your blanket, fingers tracing over his jaw before you gently tug his lips to meet your own.

Your lungs expand with the harsh intake of breath you suck in once the both of you part, your lips shiny with Namjoon’s saliva.

“There was also a young boy that came in today” you whisper against his lips, losing your breath when he gives you a fleeting kiss, lips pillowing yours. Silently begging for more, drawing you closer as he pulls away.

You press another kiss to the corner of his lips.

“A boy?” Namjoon encourages, mind trailing after what you had been about to tell him.

“Yes”

“And what about him?” Namjoon prods.

He doesn’t think it’s jealousy that colours his words. He never found himself to be a jealous man, not even when he had started dating you. He wasn’t oblivious to the looks you would get, eyes of men that would never be yours probably conjuring up a thousand fantasies to fuel their lonely mind. And Namjoon wasn’t an insecure man; he would never subject you to a strict way of living—limiting your self expression simply because of outside forces.

And he knew you wouldn’t cheat. Just as he, himself would never imagine himself stooping to that level. That didn’t mean he wasn’t wary when you brough up other testosterone filled, bull-headed men that were more than likely to hit on you. Never seeming to grasp the concept of ‘no’ or ‘I’m not interested’.

You blink up at Namjoon, scooting yourself from his side, legs crossed under your blanket with cheeks dusted the lightest pink.

“So?” Namjoon asks, strange feeling whittling its way throughout his blood stream and into his heart.

“He reminded me of you”

“Pardon?”

“He reminded me a lot of us, when we were young” you say again, and Namjoon blinks.

“How so?”

You let the blanket fall off your shoulders, “He was curious. Asked so many questions about the flowers. Genuinely interested in what I had to say.”

“I only ever asked because I knew you loved them so much” he huffs, and you catch your laugh on your tongue.

“Not only that” you continue, “He got her the same flowers you got me, the day you asked me out”

“He made the right choice then” Namjoon tells you, “And I suppose, their relationship will be just as lucky as ours”

“You think so?” you ask him, arms slipping around his stomach, head resting on his shoulder.

“Maybe. Though he’ll never be as lucky as I am to have you”

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #namjoon fanfic #namjoon #namjoon imagine #namjoon x reader #bts x reader #bts #bts namjoon #bts x you #bts imagines #bts non idol au #bts fic #namjoon x you

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seulcaty · 1 month

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𐚁 ꫬ ۪ namjoon ( bts ) lockscreen

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yulixi · 1 year

Text

𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦... pt.1 | jjk

𝚂𝚞𝚖𝚖𝚊𝚛𝚢:Army has seen over time the beautiful friendship between the maknae Jungkook and the model Y/N.

But since the Y/N model began to share more photos, videos, and appear in some of Jungkook's live shows, a part of the fandom began to have doubts.

𝙿𝚊𝚒𝚛𝚒𝚗:Jungkook x fem!reader

𝙶𝚎𝚗𝚛𝚎𝚜:fluffy, cute, comfort.

sometimes i'm not good with english but i try to improve^^

But since the Y/N model began to share more photos and videos of them together, a part of the fandom began to have doubts.

@/Junggmaknae:It is clear that we have all seen those beautiful videos and photos of them together.

But that video that the beautiful model Y/N shared with us via instagram, I'm still not well after that beautiful video of them together.

+｡★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡

The video begins with Y/N smiling at the camera, you could see that he was on the ground.

A few seconds later he could see the muzzle of a dog approaching his face.

She laughed as she felt the dog's tongue on her cheek.

"Look at this big and beautiful dog," said the model before sitting down and showing the well-known pet of the youngest BTS member.

It could be seen that she caressed it and how the dog got excited getting closer to her

"Uh? What are they doing?" the male voice was heard

"Just showing off Bam" Y/N laughed while looking at the young man

Some footsteps could be heard and how the singer appeared looking at the camera "hello" he said with a funny voice

And there the video ended but there was still a second video, Jungkook playing and jumping with Bam and in the background the model's laughter could be heard, the video lasted a few more seconds and soon ended.

That was enough for the fandom to start giving their opinions of the two of them...

+｡★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡★｡+ﾟ☆ﾟ+｡

@/Junggmaknae: OMG?!?!?! But that last video?

That video from now on lives in my mind permanently, I won't let it go

If you like it, give me a like and reblog ^^

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oftenderweapons · 3 months

Text

London Calling | KNJ

Pairing: Namjoon x Vixen

Wordcount: 3.1k

Genre: Fluff, smut, pwp, established relationship!AU, idol!Au, Married!AU

Rating: 18+; minors, please do not interact

Synopsis: Vixen has decided to distract herself from Namjoon's incumbent enlistment by focusing on her job. She has accepted adding more international works to her portfolio and is currently in London; too bad Namjoon can't help but post risqué pictures on his Instagram, and it really seems he's doing so to try and get her attention.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, Swearing, Fear of infidelity, Nostalgia. Extremely mild DDLG dynamics, Babygirl!Vixen, Brat!Vixen, Phone sex, Masturbation, Dirty talking. Mentions of: Oral sex (both male and female receiving), Lingerie kink, Sex toys, Spanking. Oh, and one of Joon's friends simps for Vixen.

As usual, you can find my masterlist right here! I wouldn't mind if you took a few seconds to leave a comment or reblog my fic 🥰 Also, my requests are always open!!!

Enjoy 💜✨

��Been hearing someone’s on their worst behaviour.”

Namjoon’s chuckle on the opposite end of the line is everything you need to know. “What can I say, my last moral anchor is busy girlbossing around the world.” He licks his lips and sits down on the sofa, his friends messing around his kitchen, beers and liquors spread around your marble counter. “I’m missing my lucky star.”

“Your guardian angel.”

“My only angel,” he flirts.

The game is back on between you and Namjoon. Ever since you decided to stop waiting around for his enlistment and have started accepting international projects on your portfolio, it’s like no matter where either of you are, it’s always time to flirt on the phone.

Or mess around even more.

He’s touched down in London for you about two weeks ago, showing up at your hotel room with an Agent Provocateur bag dangling from his pretty fingers and the kind of smile that always gets you shimmying out of your panties.

“What are you up to, love? What time is it over there?”

“Uh-huh. I’m the one doing the asking here, mister.”

He puts his glass back on the coffee table, and leans over with his elbows on his knees. “I’m just trying to feed my imagination, little fox. What’s a boy to do, with an empty bed and a sexy wife on the other side of the world?”

“I don’t know, maybe be more careful before talking talks he can’t walk?” you suggest.

He lowers his voice before saying, “You’d be over my knee right now, you know?”

You decide to talk back, just to mess him up further. Your voice is like midnight fog when you tell him, “you’d have to catch me first.”

He steals a glance towards the kitchen. This feels an awful lot like when the two of you began hanging out — the secrecy, the craving, the distance, and the pining. Except this time you have rings on your hands and there’s no doubting loyalty, not on his nor your behalf.

He toys with his own ring, tracing it with his thumb, twisting it a little to the left, then to the right, back and forth.

“It seems you appreciated that quick leak…”

You click your tongue. “One of these days you’re gonna end up naked in those pics and I’ll have to come home to do damage control.”

“Is that all it takes to have you back home? I miss my territorial little vixen.” He stares at your stash of books in the bookshelf, standing tall right next to his, but looking twice more put together.

“I’ve noticed you’ve been acting sluttier lately.”

“At least I haven’t gone entirely shirtless yet.” He picks up the glass again and you hear him swallowing through the line. “Unlike some of my friends. You should consider yourself lucky.”

“Lucky, you say?”

He hears the sound of a glass being put down. “Are you drinking, babygirl?”

You cock an eyebrow and stare at your glass of red wine. “I’m dined and wined. You know which bit is missing. But it seems you’re not that deserving.”

“What did you eat?” He doesn’t grant you the courtesy of winning this sensual verbal sparring. That tiny comment about being dined and wined was a trap, he can tell. Looking so casual and half-hearted can only mean you expected him to go there, and if he does, he’ll probably end up right where you wanted him.

He can do better.

“I had a steak. With a lovely truffle cream. I’ll have to make it for you next time you’re around.” Your reply comes off beat, and he smiles, happy that he caught you off guard.

If this were a match of martial arts, you’d be dwindling a little, your balance compromised. “I’d love to. Miss your tiramisu. Your cheesecake. Your aglio e olio. Your sweet little ass working around the kitchen.”

You laugh, the sound as bright and heartstopping as ever. Blood rushes to his cheeks. He loves making you laugh. “You got the guys over, I assume? Four in the morning?”

“We just finished working. Like maybe an hour ago or so.” He can’t keep calm anymore. Everytime you call him when he’s home, his gaze keeps wandering to every piece of it that belongs to you.

Sometimes it’s suffocating. Sometimes he sleeps back at the studio. Sometimes he stays over at other people’s places.

Now it’s the portrait of your orchids that you had commissioned for him. It sits next to his bonsais, so he can think of your collection each time he’s watering his own.

Sometimes he wonders who is whose subtext, because at times he thinks you’re the one who picked up habits from him, other times he thinks it’s him who accidentally got into certain hobbies through the years so he could be your exact shadow once the two of you finally met and aligned.

“Also, you’re calling at four in the morning,” he observes. “Oh…” He rubs the back of his head, then plops back on the sofa, as if he were deflating slowly. “Right. I’m your booty call.” He chuckles. “Almost forgot.”

“I can find someone else in a more suitable time zone, if that sits well with you,” you reply, your tone just a tiny bit annoyed. His nonchalance irks you just a little.

“That your sneaky link, man?” you hear someone holler on his side.

“So now I’m miss sneaky link, huh? Not bad, mister booty call.” You click your tongue. “I’ll leave you to your friends. I thought you were alone, didn’t mean to disturb.” This could be your chance to win this match.

“No, don’t go because they’re about to. Kind of right now,” he says, looking towards the kitchen and nodding towards the door. “Sorry guys. Vixen’s rule.”

“He don’t deserve you, honey,” one of his friends calls. “Just one chance, miss. Kindly.”

“We’re literally married,” he tells the guy, then to you, “Bum says hi.”

“Oh, hi sweetie. What are your thoughts on the London timezone?” you ask, coquettishly.

“Careful, fox.” Namjoon’s voice is stern when it comes on. It makes you sit taller on your seat, redirecting the pressure in between your thighs. “And you’d better not reply, Bum.”

The guy stares at Namjoon as he says. “For you, anything, my queen. Though, from personal experience, it’s excellent for your late nights and our early mornings. If you know you know,” Bum suggests.

Namjoon slaps the guy’s back with the most sarcastic smile on his face. “Time to go, dude.”

“Starcrossed lovers, that’s our fate, my queen.”

You laugh loudly and Namjoon is a little annoyed. “All the great loves are those that never happened, Bum.”

“Guys, I’m literally right here!?” Namjoon says, embarrassed and just a tad annoyed. “You, get out of my house. And stop trying to seduce my wife.”

“Bum, can you keep an eye on him? Kinda worried I might not be the only sneaky link of his.” You joke about it, but deep down, there’s always a sliver of worry in it. You wouldn’t be surprised if some of his friends were encouraging him to be unloyal to you just because you decided to push forward with your career.

“He’s too busy panting for you to even begin thinking about someone else.” Bum’s putting on his shoes by the door, hushered by Namjoon. His three other friends are similarly getting dressed, laughing at the exchange.

“Literally, Vixen—”

Namjoon looks like he’s baring his teeth at Bum using his nickname for you.

“He’s whipped. We keep him in check, but it’s like guarding a leashed little puppy.”

You giggle, sweet and endeared. “Good. That’s the way I like him.” You lick your lips. “Make sure he doesn’t bare his ass on Instagram.”

“So you’re falling for his little thirst traps?” Bum’s laugh booms in the room and Namjoon wacks him on the head, worried about the neighbours. Also, he doesn’t like admitting that when he posts, he’s thinking about the way you would react when seeing him.

“You know how I am, Bum. I’m always falling for him,” you confess, cheesy and utterly honest at the same time.

Namjoon smiles like the cat who got the cream. “That’s sweet, babygirl. The guys are leaving now. Bye guys,” he says quickly, finally kicking them out.

You try to say bye in return, but you hear the door close and Namjoon is immediately all over you. “Always falling for me, huh?” He heads back towards the sofa. “That’s new.”

“That’s actually so, so old.” You roll your eyes but smile through it anyways.

“You’re my only sneaky link, Vixen. Still got your claw marks all over my back, by the way. Lovely touch.”

“Gotta mark my territory,” you state matter-of-factly.

“Wanna switch this over to a video call?” he suggests, already undoing the first button of his shirt.

“Just so I can be reminded I’m not over there fucking you right?” You snort bitterly. “No way.”

“We could make this our own personal porno,” he suggests, grateful that his trousers are baggy enough to give him extra space around the crotch. “Just a little visual aid.”

“You’re telling me you don’t remember how I rode you last time?” You undo the little bow at the waistband of your pyjama pants, your fingertips tiptoeing around the elastic of your panties.

“Let’s say I wouldn’t mind having a bit more than a memory to hold on to.” As if telepathically connected, he’s also undoing the button and zip of his denim cargos.

“Fair. You usually hold on to my hips while I fuck you.”

He hisses, head thrown back. “And you hold on to my throat when I’ve been an exceptionally good boy.”

A shiver screeches down your torso, then spreads through your midriff and settles somewhere at the small of your back, as if recalling the phantom touch of his hand, of his thumbs imprinting themselves in the twin dimples at the base of your spine. He likes resting his fingers there when he’s taking you from behind. It’s like the little dips were designed for his digits to rest there.

“You’re such a lucky little fucker,” you tease him and he one-ups you,

“I fucking am, but last time I checked you usually sort of profit from it.”

Your sultry laugh is his favourite form of payment — right now he’s richer than he’s ever been.

“Are your hands free, love?”

You let him hang there for a couple long seconds, your breathing heavy. “They’d be freer if you were here,” you tell him. “Maybe not.”

“They’d be all over me, and you know it, little fox.” He purrs as his hand finds a good spot. He’s not yet actually touching himself, but he’s definitely teasing. “Got on a fucking plane for those hands.”

“You flew for twelve hours for these hands.”

“And for that ass,” he adds, quick-witted.

Your laugh is more of a snort. “And that too.”

His zipper is undone, he dips his hand under the waistband of his briefs, shifting it downwards. “For that smart mouth of yours,” he whispers. “Just to kiss it for a bunch of hours.”

“It was very grateful,” you remind him, trying to bluff the fact that your middle finger is now circling your clitoris.

“I remember that.” His heartbeat is starting to accelerate. “I had to stop it from being a little bit too grateful.” He remembers the silky feeling of your hair in between his fingers, the tension in your hand on his thigh as you tried to take more of him. “My birthday girl,” he hums. “And yet, I was the lucky bastard who got presents.” The sight of you in that powder pink corset, with the delicate ruffles, and the feather trims tracing the top of your breasts, palpitating with every single excited breath you took.

It had been like seeing a map of your arousal, goosebumps rising on any inch of skin he had dared lay his eyes on.

“You were so responsive,” he whispered. “You were so fucking wet.”

“You teased me for almost an hour,” you object.

“I’ll have to make it two hours next time then.” He’s throbbing in his own palm, circling his tip, hissing when he hits a too-sensitive spot. “Maybe with the tickler still.”

“It was delightful, I will admit that.” You’re leaning on your hand now, cupped between your thighs. “Wish your face was between my legs.”

“Wish you were sitting on it, baby.” He bites his lip, as if he could recall the feel, the taste of you on his mouth. “Can’t believe it’s been two weeks already.”

“I can’t wait to be home,” you moan.

He can tell you’re touching yourself, from your ragged breathing, and from the way your voice has become more vulnerable, and more impatient too. “I’ll make sure to clear my schedule when you do. We can do that ‘seven days a week’ type of shit.”

You moan and he laughs to himself.

“Are you gonna come for me, my love?” he asks fondly, his voice like a dark caress. “Are you thinking about my mouth fucking you? About my tongue stroking you, feeling how wet and warm and sweet you are?”

“Joon, please,” you beg, a desperate little laugh.

“No need to beg, babygirl. You can have everything you want when you’re with me,” he continues, with his calm, direct voice. “You can take it, love. You can have me deep inside you, and you can suck on my fingers if you’re struggling to keep your voice down.” He’s quickened his own pace, trying to climb as fast as you do. “Or you can be loud, and tell the neighbours who’s making you feel this good.”

“When I get home I want you to mess me up for days. You’re gonna mark me, and make love to me and fuck me and feed me. You’re gonna cuddle me to sleep, then wake me up with your hand between my legs.”

You’re holding your breath as you speak, your high approaching like an incumbent, massive wave.

“I promise, love.”

“Are you coming too?” you ask, and he hums simply.

“I’m close.”

“I want you to fuck me while I sit on your lap.”

“On the sofa?”

“On the sofa, on the floor, in bed, I don’t care.” You gasp, then chuckle as you hit an indecently good angle with your fingers. “I want to hold you as we make love.”

“You will, baby.”

“I wanna whisper in your ear that you’re my one and only. That you’re the only one in the whole world who can get me this good.”

He loves when you get emotional during sex. He loves when you start to ramble and you tell him all those things you usually keep to yourself. “I can’t wait either. I miss you in bed. I miss you at every meal, I miss going to our galleries. I miss every fucking thing.” He’s getting desperate. “And most of all, I miss those eyes on me.”

“I’m coming,” you gasp, out of the blue, the idea of sitting on his lap, naked, making love to him, your mouth clamped around the crook of his shoulder to keep quiet, his hands tracing your back, his eyes looking for yours, for confirmation, for loyalty, for reassurance, for companionship.

“That’s my darling.” He can let go now, and he fucks his hand with intention, with neat powerful jerks. He helps himself with strong thrusts of his pelvis, and precise tugs of his hand too. He grunts when he hears your sweet whimpers on your side of the call, and finally he follows you into pleasure, with the image of your head thrown back, your plump lips agape, your hair tumbling wild behind you as you bounce on him.

He can almost feel the aftertaste of your perspiration on the tip of his tongue.

“Wow,” you say as soon as you manage to recollect yourself.

He’s still sort of numb, his orgasm spilled on his stomach and happy trail. Just a glimpse down and he’s already envisioned the phantom of you studying his semen, lowering yourself to his navel and tracing it with your digit, only to bring it to your mouth to have a taste. He clicks his tongue in disappointment.

“Damn, I wanna cuddle the fuck out of you and you’re too far away.” He reaches for a tissue to clean himself quickly. “I guess that’s why we don’t do this more often. I miss the aftercare.” He pulls himself back in his briefs, then blocks his phone between his shoulder and ear and stands to get rid of the tissue. “How are you feeling, love?”

“Hunting for chocolate.”

“Oh, baby…” He giggles, endeared. “Should I order something for you?”

“No… it’s okay.” You’re a little bit sad, but you try your best not to let it show.”

“Not even those glass beads you’d seen on our favourite website?”

You widen your eyes. “Let’s not make say things we don’t mean now...”

Namjoon laughs fondly. “Thought so.” He waits a little. “We can just talk, by the way. Or you can go grab a toy and we can keep going with this. We could discuss in great details what you intend to do to me once you’re back.”

“We could do that. Or we could video call and you could watch me hump this little thing you got me.”

He grins. “Then let me get comfy. We’ve got quite the night coming up.”

You smile. “We do.”

He hesitates. “We don’t have to, you know? If you don’t want to video call. I’m okay with just hearing you.”

You pause. Your love for him multiplies exponentially in your chest. “Sure we don’t have to. But I want to.”

Namjoon smiles. “Okay.”

“Get comfy, lucky boy,” you tease him.

“I’ll be right there.”

It’s almost six in the morning when you fall asleep. He’s propped the phone right beside him on the pillow and though he’s found himself dropping it a couple times, he’s refused to let go until he was sure you were asleep.

Now he closes the video call and locks his phone, putting it back on the nightstand. He pulls your pillow close, hugging it to his chest, then throws a leg on top of it. He places another pillow in between his legs, where your thighs would normally tangle with his.

He breathes in the vague scent of you left on the bed — not much since the sheets have been changed and he can only smell the laundry scent you normally use, of sandalwood and cedar, warm and spicy.

Twenty-three days.

He can handle it.

He falls asleep with the memory of your body like ivy against his own. Even this far apart, he is and will always be covered in you.

#kim namjoon #namjoon scenario #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x yn #namjoon fanfiction #bts fanfiction #52 hertz #btswritersclub #bangtansorciere #houseofddaeng #namjoon x vixen #kim namjoon married au #namjoon imagine #namjoon idol au #bts blog

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violetsiren90 · 3 months

Text

All I Haven't Said | Namjoon/Reader

💜 Chapter 3: Part 2 💜

Table of Contents: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3 (part 1), Chapter 3 (part 2)

Pairing: idol!Namjoon/f!Reader

Genre: Soulmate AU; idol AU; chapter fic; strangers to lovers; a bit of idiots to lovers, tbh; slow burn; eventual romance; eventual smut; angst (life is messy & hearts are complex); OT7 featured

Summary: You found your soulmate - or rather, he found you. Turns out he's an idol of much acclaim who needs you for very real and unglamorous reasons. What could become of two hearts so used to giving of themselves when they are confronted with needing each other?

Chapter Word Count: ~7k

Chapter Warnings: This fic is 18+, as is all my work and my page as a whole; depictions of cancer and its treatment; secondhand embarrassment; awkward situations; soulmate skinship; loss of consciousness; dudes dude-broing a bit lol; mentions of minor character death (in past); cursing; chemo therapy and its symptoms; nausea and vomiting; characters eat meals; Reader is starting to grapple with some difficult feelings; Hybe kinda sorta depicted as being collective assholes in responding to this situation (gonna be a theme, guys)

Author's Note: Here comes part two! I know this is months coming (again), but I've finally found my stride with writing and work. I had this mostly done, and then redid some parts and finished editing, and well...I just hope you all enjoy it! My hope is to post part three in two weeks - I really want to get into a groove with plot progression here!

There is a lot of content in this chapter about medical procedures and treatment. I tried my best to represent these as accurately as possible with what information I could acquire, but if there are any misrepresentations, great or small, please don't hesitate to let me know!

Thank you again to all who have stuck with this story! I continue to be blown away by how much love you have all showered upon it, and I'm so excited to walk the path I intend for these two and have you all along for the ride!!

P.S. If you want to join the tag list, drop me a comment or an ask!

P.P.S. If no one has told you yet today, you're loved and worthy of love! 🧜‍♀️💜

"Out of sheer taciturnity the ceiling listens To the fall of ancient leafless rain, To feathers, to whatever the night imprisoned." ~Pablo Neruda

Chapter 3: My Windows Ache

Namjoon's labs had come back with even more promising numbers. A radiology scan had shown no shrinkage in his tumors, but the doctors commented that these were early days, and that the effects of the bond might even be keeping them from inflaming due to the chemo. You had watched him, smiling as the doctor reviewed the result, and couldn't help but feel a sense of pride. Your soulmate was on the road to recovery.

Nurse Cha quickly checked both of you over before initiating another skinship session.

"I saw you out on the grounds earlier, and for the first time in weeks," she said, shooting Namjoon an approving grin. "Keep that up. He needs sunlight and fresh air," she remarked to you, flustering you even as you nodded in agreement.

Why was she telling you that? Were you his keeper?

Actually, you supposed, in fact, you were.

You peeked back up at him and found him regarding you with a small, amused smile, which disconcerted you further. You shook your head, shooting him an eye-roll as you made your way into the bathroom to disrobe.

After your first few experiences with skinship, you had asked Matt to acquire you some sporty, conservative sports bra and boy-short sets, and you slipped into one, pulling a hospital gown over it. After the way your conversation with Hyung-seo had unfolded you were glad to have them - the practical underwear felt far less intimate and flirty than your typical bras and panties, giving you much more peace of mind.

As you left the bathroom and made your way back to Namjoon's half of the suite, you noticed him sitting on top of the covers, long legs stretched out in front of him, in nothing but a black tee and blue boxers. He had a drip attached to a tube that ran under his shirt. When Nurse Cha glanced up from her touchscreen tablet to see you approaching, she waved her hand for you to come around to the other side of the bed, which had been adjusted to accommodate Namjoon's upright position.

"We’re going to try this sitting up today," she explained as she typed. "He's on a chemo drip right now, and the doctor wants to see if the bond will help ease the nausea and some of the other side effects. I heard you just had a nice lunch, so it would be wonderful if Namjoon could hang onto his."

She shot him a rueful smirk and he let out a chuckle. You smiled in turn and nodded as you slipped off your hospital gown and draped it over the end of the bed. You glanced up at Namjoon who had cast his eyes down at his hands, folded in his lap. The huge apparatus was lower than usual, so you slipped rather easily into it and against Namjoon's side. He raised an arm to drape over your shoulders and you settled against him, pressing your bare leg against his. It was comical how much shorter yours were, but you could only think of that for a fraction of a second as every other thought in your mind melted at the feeling of the man beside you.

Butter. Warm, melted butter. It was as if every single muscle group in your body had suddenly released every bit of tension it had been holding. So many sensations at once, but this was the one you felt like leaning into at the moment. You felt like collapsing against him.

He sighed deeply through his nose. Yeah, you felt that on a spiritual level. Mmh.

Your melty, bond-induced reverie was broken, however, by a dissatisfied noise from Nurse Cha as she stepped toward the bed. You looked up to find her expression matched her tone.

"You're not really getting much contact," she said, scanning her eyes over everywhere you touched...and didn't.

You raised your arms slightly and a bit uselessly. You felt Namjoon lean forward.

"Should I...like..." you looked to her for direction, but she was already in motion.

She grabbed your arm, guiding you off the bed and motioned for Namjoon to scoot back to the middle. She said something to Namjoon in Korean and suddenly he was tugging his shirt over his head. You felt your cheeks getting hot. Social norms had not prepared you for this amount of casual nudity. You stood there, eyes glued to Nurse Cha, hugging your arms over your middle and hoping that Namjoon was playing his usual blessed game of "look anywhere but soulmate". The nurse took your arm again and guided you back toward your previous perch.

"Sit between his legs and lean back against his chest," she instructed, nudging you to join him.

You looked up at Namjoon. His face looked like you felt. And then it was just too much. You were standing in a hospital in South Korea in your underwear being asked to sit in a practically naked celebrity's lap so that he wouldn't die.

You busted out laughing.

Nurse Cha jumped, surprise clear in her features as she regarded you.

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" You gasped, bending over to support yourself against the bed as you continued to chuckle, "This is just..."

You snorted. Mortified but still attempting to swallow your giggles you clapped a hand over your mouth and looked up at Namjoon whose dimples were out and whose shoulders were shaking with his own silent amusement. Nurse Cha's lips curved up a bit to one side, but her narrowed eyes spoke of far less hilarity felt.

"Here's the thing," you said, turning to the nurse while still biting back your laughter, "Namjoon is spoken for, and...well...I have a pretty nice ass."

The nurse's eyes widened.

You were probably being really impolite. That would have been borderline in the States. You weren't sure about here, but you felt like that might have broken some unspoken rules. Or, maybe spoken ones because there were a lot of formalities, you were learning. But you had reached your limit with all this. The awkwardness levels were at maximum, and you were gonna cope the only way you knew how - with humor.

When you hazarded a look at your soulmate, he had drawn his knees up, grabbing them with his hands, his head dropped between them and his shoulders shaking as he badly repressed laughter of his own. You could see those dimples again. They were even deeper than before.

"We need to get maximum skin-to-skin contact during these sessions," Nurse Cha insisted indignantly, clearly a bit flustered.

"I know, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," you offered her a contrite smile as you rocked back on your feet.

"Ah!" Namjoon drew your attention as he pointed behind you. "Throw me that pillow?"

You grabbed the little green cushion from the corner of the couch and tossed it to him. He lowered his legs and placed it over his lap.

"How's that?" he asked with a closed-lip smirk.

You gave him a thumbs up and clambered back onto the bed to situate yourself between his legs. You looked back over at Nurse Cha.

"Better?"

She raised a brow as she handed you a blanket. You thanked her quietly and cleared your throat as you fanned it out over your legs and Namjoon's, tucking it up to your waist. The nurse checked Namjoon's vitals and said that she would return in an hour to take him off the drip.

You sank back tentatively against your soulmate's chest, careful to avoid the little port below his sternum. There it was again. Butter.

Somewhere above and behind you, Namjoon chuckled. You smiled knowingly.

"What?" you asked indignantly.

"Did you see her face when you said that?"

You shrugged against him.

"Hey, it's true!" you insisted.

"Sorry if this is uncomfortable for you," he murmured.

You could hear that he was still smiling, but he sounded serious all the same. You let your head fall back.

"Honestly, I felt bad for you," you huffed in another laugh before sobering. "And, thank you," you turned, casting your eyes up over your shoulder, "For always being so respectful. It's made this a lot easier."

"Oh," Namjoon responded softly, "Of course."

You looked at his arms resting at his sides and thought of what Nurse Cha had said. You slowly picked up his hands in yours, raising them slightly.

"May I put them around me? For more contact," you asked.

You asked it boldly, but you felt shy. You wanted the chemo to work. You wanted it to stop hurting him while it did. When Namjoon let out a low hum of assent you drew his forearms around your waist and laid your own over them.

Your eyes slipped shut. So euphoric but it always made you feel like sleeping. You weren't going to give into the urge, though, not just yet. There were conversations to be had.

"Tell me about Hyung-seo," you prompted softly, shifting against him to get comfortable.

He was quiet for a moment.

"Well," he responded slowly, "what do you want to know?"

"How did you meet her?"

He went quiet again. Then he sighed a small sigh. You wondered what that little breath carried.

"She debuted in 2019. A buddy of mine - Seo Jungkwon, he goes by Tiger JK in the industry - had signed her to his agency. Bangtan was just taking off, things were blowing up. I actually collaborated with him which is when I met her."

He silenced for a moment.

"We had a lot in common - how we approached life and music."

"Had?" you asked, gently.

He heaved another sigh.

"The last few years have been really tough on her. I mean, she hasn't had an easy life to begin with, but..."

He paused, as if deciding whether or not to utter the words he wanted to say next.

"Anyway," he redirected himself, and you wondered what thought he had dismissed, "Preparing for a tour is grueling, and this is her first one. I think the stress is really getting her."

You hummed in acknowledgement. You recognized it in his voice - you should after all, as the same sound had echoed so often in your own - the hollow clemency of lying to yourself on someone else's behalf.

"Well," you offered, "She's lucky to have you supporting her, especially when you're going through such a difficult time yourself."

Namjoon scoffed.

"I mean, yeah, I'm sick, but...I don't know. In a lot of ways my life has been a lot easier these days. A lot simpler."

"Really? In what way?"

He huffed out a wry laugh.

"I have so much time to just do whatever. Read, write...I've been learning a couple of languages. I get to do v-lives with ARMY pretty regularly, as the company allows - Jungkook went kind of crazy with it before enlistment so we have to go through them for access now."

You had no idea what a v-live was, but from what little you had seen of Jungkook, you could imagine it took very little for him to get up to a significant amount of shenanigans. You smirked.

"Did you have so little time for those things before?" you queried.

"No! No way. It was like running non-stop for ten years. During my time in the military, I got a bit of a break and a change, but then I got sick and had to be discharged early, so...well, I didn't even get to experience that like I should have."

You felt your hands tighten in response around his forearms. His life hadn't been cake-walk either, that was clear. You wondered if he knew that, if he acknowledged it.

"Well, I'm glad you have more time for those things. You should keep as much time for them as you can, even when you're better."

He paused for a moment before whispering agreement into your hair. You felt it even though he didn't say it, the caveat - if he got better. He would. You'd never make him a promise you couldn't guarantee, but you could make one to yourself. So you did.

For the rest of the session you talked about Bangtan, and the recent history of the group's situation.

You learned about conscription and that it applied to idols as well. You learned the members had decided to enlist pretty much around the same time so that they could reunite to tour again after being discharged. Namjoon had been released ahead of schedule when he had fallen ill, and at this point most of the members had followed, save Yoongi who was set to be discharged the following week. He fondly reported that they were all anxious to meet you, and that Jungkook and Jimin hadn't stopped pestering him with all manner of questions in your regard since their visit the previous day.

Every time you had heard him speak about his members, the deep brotherly affection that permeated his words was incredibly evident.

You asked him to tell you about each one, and he did.

You blinked your eyes open as you felt Namjoon shift you in his arms. You slowly pulled yourself forward, struggling to focus.

"I...I'm sorry," you murmured, "I fell asleep on you again."

Namjoon chuckled and assured you it was quite alright. As you wearily slipped off the mattress to stand, you suddenly felt the room tilt and your knees buckle. Namjoon's reflexes were quick enough to catch you in his arms. He stood to pull you up and hold you against him.

"You okay?" he asked in concern.

"I...I got dizzy..."

You attempted to put your weight into your legs, but failed, sagging weakly against his broad frame.

Nurse Cha was already in motion.

"Help her to the bed," she ordered, striding across the room.

Namjoon wasted no time in scooping you up in a bridal carry to follow her. You gasped despite yourself, the sudden movement and his strength equally surprising. But every thought was fleeting as you found yourself struggling to maintain a grip on consciousness.

You felt Namjoon lay you gently on the bed as cold, sticky monitors were pressed to your skin; heard him ask the nurse what was the matter, his voice tinged with anxiety.

You heard him say your name.

And then you heard nothing.

You groaned as you came to. Your throat felt like the Sahara and your head was pounding. Pushing yourself to sit up, you became aware of the sound of voices on the other side of the curtain. Carefully drawing your legs to the edge of the bed, you clutched your IV stand as you struggled to your feet.

Pulling back the hanging divider, you were surprised to see Matt occupying the little couch, a cup of coffee on the low table in front of him. Namjoon sat in the opposing chair, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees in rapt attention as the older man spoke. It was dark out.

"Matt," you croaked, shuffling forward.

Namjoon's head whipped around at the sound of your voice and he sprang up, just a moment faster than his guest, striding over to take you by the arm. You faltered just a moment in your steps as his hand cradled your elbow and you felt it - his touch and what it did to you. You wanted to curl into him. You wanted him to hold you.

You gently tugged your arm away.

"You're awake - let me call the nurse," he said, almost to himself as he moved to press the red call button.

You sank down beside Matt.

"What time is it?" you asked in a husky murmur. Your friend checked his watch.

"1:33am."

You frowned, blinking blearily.

"What the heck are you doing here at the hour?"

"Well!" Matt laughed before taking a sip of his coffee, "It's nice to see you too."

"You know what I mean..." you grumbled, rubbing your eyes.

"He called me," he said, gesturing with his raised mug toward Namjoon, who had returned to the armchair. "Said you'd had a fainting spell."

Your eyes followed his motion to your soulmate, who was already scanning his over you, brow furrowed and full lips pursed pensively.

"How are you feeling?" Namjoon asked.

You huffed out a mirthless chuckle.

"Like I got hit by a freight train."

The worry lines on his brow deepened.

"Hey, look..." you held up a hand to wave it weakly between both men as they regarded you in apparent concern. "I'm probably just adjusting to the bond or something. Cancer isn't contagious, you know," you ribbed, shooting a tiny smirk at Namjoon who attempted to return the expression though the smile didn't reach his eyes.

The night shift nurse and an aid entered the room to assess you. Namjoon asked to speak with a doctor, and was told that Dr. Na would be checking in first thing in the morning. The nurse had very little else to report other than that your blood work had been sent to the lab and that they would be able to determine more once your results were available. He informed Matt that some charts would likely be available in twenty-four hours, but that your CMP could take up to three days. The aid urged you to try to get some more rest. Before departing, the nurse removed your spent sodium chloride drip and said that a meal would be sent up which you were advised to eat if possible, but to be sure to report any signs of food-rejection should they appear.

Namjoon stood and sighed, rubbing the back of his neck as he gazed at your little portion of the suit.

"They want you to rest, but how the hell are you supposed to sleep with me over here snoring? It's keeping you up, right?"

You smirked.

"Well, most of my rest over the last couple of days has been due to a lack of consciousness, but I do have to admit that you woke me up a couple of times last night."

Namjoon groaned discomfitedly.

"It really isn't a big deal!" you reassured him, "I'm a pretty sound sleeper."

"And still I woke you up."

"Don't worry about it..."

"It's not just that, though," he insisted, hands in the pockets of his sweats and head cocked to one side as he continued to consider the small space across from his. "You don't even have a window. If you want privacy, you have to sit behind that curtain in the tiny bed -- I hate it. I've hated it since they were first preparing for you to arrive. I'll make some calls tomorrow. You need your own room," he stated decidedly, returning to the chair across from you.

He fished his phone out of his pocket and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he fired off a message.

Namjoon did have a point, it was a pretty meager space you currently occupied. But they must have had a reason, you thought, for wanting you to share a room with him. And you didn't want to cause any kind of fuss in the name of personal convenience that might detract from his treatment or recovery.

"Namjoon, it's fine..."

He looked up at you, his brown eyes assured and determined.

"Just let me handle it. I've got you."

A sudden warmth spread through your chest like the rising sun on the frost of your anxieties, his gaze melting away the familiar worry of burdensomeness. You looked away shyly.

"Good man," Matt said to him with a nod, and they shared a look as your soulmate nodded in return that seemed to be one of mutual masculine respect. You wanted to roll your eyes a little bit. You also felt pretty damn grateful.

Matt stood to leave, pressing a kiss on your temple and promised that he'd return in the morning. He paused to shake Namjoon's hand.

"If there are any further developments, don't hesitate to call me," he said, to which the younger man nodded in agreement.

"Or I can call you!" you rasped after him as he raised his hand in one last gesture of farewell while shutting the door.

You huffed.

"Smart guy," Namjoon remarked, sitting back down in his chair. "You know he's read Toegye exhaustively?"

You raised a brow at him, your lips quirking with a wry grin.

"Two peas in a pod. He's probably going to be coming around here nonstop until he leaves just so you two can gab in genius."

Namjoon smiled and touched his fingers absently to his jaw, his eyes trained on the linoleum.

"Are you bothered that I called him?" he asked abruptly, glancing up at you.

"What? No, of course not," you reassured him with a shake of your head. "I just..." You rolled your eyes and smirked. "I'm not used to sitting around while boys decide what's best for me."

"Aaahhh," Namjoon responded with a nod, interlacing his fingers, "Well, you've been looking out for me since you walked through that door back there, and honestly, I could get used to that..." he leaned forward a bit, "But only if I get to return the favor. You said we don't owe each other, but that doesn't mean you get to be the only one doing the giving."

You stared at him. The only one to do the giving. The words jarred something loose inside you. You swallowed the strange feeling that threatened to well into your throat.

Before you could respond, an aid entered with your meal. A tray loaded with dakjuk, rice, and several banchan was placed before you. It smelled fantastic, and you actually felt you could eat. You moved to take the tray to your side of the suite but Namjoon stopped you.

"Hey, wait. I'm hungry. I'll eat with you."

He crossed to the other side of the room to pick up the telephone.

"Go ahead," he said with nod of his head a little grin, "Don't wait on me."

He didn't have to twist your arm. The chicken porridge was steaming and savory, warming you up within just a few bites. A similar tray soon arrived for Namjoon, and you found it did feel far nicer to eat with someone than alone.

Between bites he asked you about Matt.

"He's my dad's best friend. When he died - my dad - Matt and his wife Rebecca helped to take care of us for a while. They've been really good to my family."

Namjoon's face sombered.

"I'm sorry about your father."

You smiled softly at him.

"It was a long time ago, when I was ten. He was a firefighter."

He nodded quietly, giving you the opening to continue. You decided to take it.

"A fire broke out at a high-security prison. The situation got really bad with a lot of people still inside - prisoners. They told the team to stop attempting rescues, that it wasn't worth it, for people like that. But my dad kept going. Alone. He saved seventeen more lives before...well, he couldn't make it out."

When you looked up at Namjoon again his eyes were locked on you, his chopsticks resting idly in his hand.

"Wow," he murmured after a pause. "And you were ten years old? That must have been so hard."

You dragged your spoon through your dakjuk.

"It was. But managing things after he was gone...that was harder, I think."

Namjoon's brow knit in question but he didn't press you further. For the second time that night, you were grateful. Death was easy to explain, other things were much more difficult.

You finished the rest of your meal chatting about Matt, Neo-Confucianism, and unequivocal humanism between mouthfuls of rice and porridge.

The next day, you were moved into your new suite a few doors down. Namjoon had received no resistance from the hospital in procuring you the space, as apparently Hybe's representatives had been the ones to originate the request that you be at the idol's immediate disposal.

Your room mirrored the setup of your soulmate's, being on the same floor but across the hall, and Kang Dae had dropped in with a catalog stating that you could select whatever you wished to make the space more comfortable. You had circled a few things and he had departed to procure them. Matt had brought the bulk of your luggage, which meant a good portion of books, your art supplies, and finally more clothes which you would blessedly now have no worries of mixing up with Namjoon's. You changed into jeans and a comfy Nirvana graphic tee.

You were busy unpacking when a knock came at your door. You called for the person to come in while you continued to stack books onto a small set of shelves. The doctor had cautioned you and Namjoon against further skinship sessions until your blood work had come back, so you were anxious for the results, not wanting him to go through another bout of chemo without the aid of the bond.

When you glanced up expectantly, however, you found your curiosity would have to wait - at least, concerning your charts - as in the entry stood none other than Kim Hyung-seo.

She lingered in the entryway at the mouth of the space, her arms wrapped around her middle. She looked much more casual today in a pair of big baggy camouflage cargo pants, a tight black crop top, and chunky white sneakers. Her hair was pulled up into a bun, and she had black mask pulled under her chin. She was bare-faced, save for two small red dots under her right eye.

You stood from your crouched position, trying your best to keep the surprise from your face.

"Hi," you greeted her with a small smile, which she returned remorsefully, still hugging herself as she glanced around the room. "Would you like to sit down?" you offered, motioning to the furniture beside you.

She nodded, crossing over to take a seat in the little arm chair. You moved to sit across from her. Your first instinct was to offer her something to drink, only to realize you were in a hospital room with no way to deliver, at which you both laughed awkwardly. After a moment of tense silence, she looked up at you, gnawing her bottom lip.

“I owe you an apology," she sighed.

You gave her an encouraging smile.

"Fuck..." she dropped her head in her hands, and you waited for her to collect herself. Finally, she raises her eyes to yours, interlacing her fingers with their long white nails in her lap.

"What I did...what I said yesterday...I was cunt. I'm sorry."

You let out a little laugh at her choice of words.

"Well, I do accept your apology...but, don't be too hard on yourself. It was a really bizarre and unprecedented situation for all of us. I'm glad we're moving forward, and in a better direction."

You smiled again at her reassuringly.

She nodded, her lips pursed and quivering slightly. You could tell she was blinking back tears.

"Me and Joon...we'd only been engaged for a few weeks before we found out...you know, that he had a match. That it could be his only option to live - bonding. With you. It's just all really fucking scary."

You nodded sympathetically. She released another sigh as she continued.

"He had to decide so fast, they pushed him to just make this huge life commitment as fast as they fucking could and now..." She raised her arms, looking around the room in resign, "Here we are. And we have to figure everything out, and I'm about to leave and..."

"I'm sorry," you murmured sympathetically.

She looked down into her lap, worry still twisting her features.

You wondered why she was leaving, now of all times - when things were the way they were. But that wasn't for you to judge.

"You know," you offered hopefully, "At least he's on the mend. At least you know he'll have someone to look after him."

She hummed. You wondered if it was an agreement as her eyes flitted over your face searchingly. Anxiety from the previous day's encounter began to seep into your chest as you considered if you had chosen your words poorly. You had said what would have comforted you in under the same circumstances. But maybe you were different - too different.

You softened your heart, determined to reserve judgement. Life had given Hyung-seo had her own shoes, and you would do everything you could to understand what it was like to walk in them.

"Can I add you on KakaoTalk?" you asked, realizing you were still clutching a book, and setting it onto the low table to pull your phone from your pocket.

She was chewing on her lip again when you looked up. She stared down at the hardback.

"You read a lot, huh?" she asked, though it didn't sound like a question.

"I do," you answered slowly, wondering where her train of thought was headed.

"All that stuff you said yesterday, you seem, like really in tune with people. And smart. You guys are, like, the same."

She pressed the words out in a strained voice. She looked so small and so sad. Your heart sank for her.

"Namjoon actually said that very thing about you yesterday."

She glanced up at you in surprise and confusion. You smiled.

"He said that when you met he was struck with how much you shared in how you saw the world, and how you approached music."

She regarded you silently as you continued.

"And that's your life right, your great love? Music? What a wonderful thing, to base your life with a partner in a love you share."

She nodded slowly, her eyes watering.

"Thank you," she finally whispered, and you nodded in understanding.

You reached out to take her hand and she squeezed yours. After a few moments of silence, she rose and wiped her eyes.

"I'm leaving tomorrow and I want to see Joon again before I go," she explained.

You nodded.

"Thank you for coming to talk to me and for sharing about how this has been for you. I really appreciate it."

She smiled - perhaps genuinely for the first time since you met. It was a lovely smile.

You sighed as she left. It wasn't much, but it was progress. Maybe she would let you in. Maybe it wouldn't be so hard after all.

When several hours had passed with no updates on your lab results, you decided to take a walk down the hall to see how your soulmate was faring. You knocked on his door, but received no answer.

"Namjoon!" you called softly with another rap of your knuckles, but were still met with silence.

Just when you were about to turn and go, the door creaked inward on its hinges, slipping open to reveal your soulmate's tired face.

"I just came to see how you were doing...are you okay?."

You followed him as he slumped back into the suite, but before he could even reach his bed he turned and pushed past you to hurry into the bathroom. It caught you a little off-guard and you stumbled, catching yourself on the opposing wall, but quickly realized the reason for his urgency when sounds of retching followed.

The bathroom door was cracked open and you could see him hunched over the toilet, breathing heavily as his body wracked with each attempt to expel the contents of his stomach. You hesitated a moment, then pushed the door in slowly, coming to kneel beside him and gingerly place a hand on his back.

He raised his head, eyes fluttering when you touched him. You gently pulled your palm up and down his spine, feeling the warm surge of the bond even through his shirt. He reached for a piece of toilet paper to wipe his mouth.

"You don't have to do that..." he murmured, resting his forehead on his arm propped on the porcelain rim.

"I know," you answered quietly, continuing to slowly rub his back. "Can I put my hand under your shirt?"

"You're not supposed to be touching me until we know what's going on with you."

You slipped your other hand out to curl your fingers around his exposed bicep below the sleeve of his tee. He sighed, shoulders sagging as the comfort and warmth of the contact soothed his aching body.

"Can I?" you softly persisted, and he nodded his head where it laid against his forearm.

Slipping your hand beneath the baggy cotton you ran your fingers over his soft, taut skin, heart squeezing at the definition of his spine and the ghosts of his ribs.

"Did you do chemo without me?" you asked.

“I've been doing it before you got here, you know,” he retorted weakly.

"How are you supposed to gain weight if it makes you this sick? Please don't do it again without me."

"You passed out, Y/n," he shifted his head to look at you.

"We'll figure that out," you smiled, "But you need to be as agreeable to these treatments as possible, right?"

He nodded.

"Hyung-seo paid me a visit this morning," you remarked after a moment of silence.

"She told me."

"Said she leaves for her tour tomorrow. When does she get back?"

"February."

"Of next year?" You paused to temper your shock, "That's a long time."

"It's a world tour. That's how it goes."

"Wow."

You realized for the hundredth time in as many hours that there was so much about their lifestyle to which you were ignorant. You had so much to learn, but one thing you did know: he needed you right now, so you stayed by his side until the sickness had subsided.

Nurse Cha arrived shortly after to conduct routine checks on Namjoon, and you sat by, thumbing through the latest issue of Batman and Robin which Matt had been kind enough to drop off with your things.

"Your initial blood work came back with some concerns," she said, turning to you and picking up her tablet to access the results. "There are signs that your body's nutrients are being depleted. Since your fainting spells have been occuring during skinship, we ask that you refrain from touching until your CMP comes back."

Namjoon glanced over at you, a chiding expression on his features. You flatly ignored him.

"I need to be able to touch him, especially if he feels ill. He needs to keep down his food, right?"

Nurse Cha hummed, pursing her lips.

"Well, I'm going to run this by Dr. Na, but if absolutely necessary, keep it light and brief. And please be sure to document even the smallest instances of skinship so that we can track the effects."

You agreed readily, and she left to continue her rounds.

Glancing out the window, you noted that the evening was mild, and the gardens were aflutter with birds and awash in soft late-afternoon light. You thought about what the nurse had said before about the fresh air.

"Hey," you remarked, still looking out the window, "We should take a walk - it looks so nice out. You up for it?"

"Great idea," he replied, joining you to look out across the greenery. "I'm definitely feeling up for it." He huffed out a little chuckle.

"What?" you asked suspiciously. You were beginning to recognize his different laughs - this particular chuckle was always at your expense.

"Gonna keep pushing it with the poor nurse, huh?"

You scoffed.

"Well, if I hadn't would you be feeling well enough to go out right now?"

"No."

When you glanced up you found that he was gazing raptly at you, his face filled with unchecked thanksgiving. Your witty response faltered on your tongue.

His touch, you were pretty damn sure that for the rest of his natural life you would never grow used to it...but his eyes? It was almost the same. Was this part of the bond? Or was it just...him? Did everyone feel this way when he held them in those eyes? When he looked at them, really looked...

You couldn't tear your eyes away. You couldn't find words.

When Namjoon's phone suddenly buzzed you thanked almighty Samsung and sagged against the window pane.

"Damn," he muttered.

You looked at him questioningly.

"I have a consultation with my radiation oncologist in ten minutes. Go ahead! I'll meet you down there right after."

He pulled a sweatshirt over his head and changed his slippers out for his shoes.

You returned to your room to grab outerwear as well. The evening was temperate enough to go without, but you were feeling chillier than usual. You felt your phone buzz in your pocket.

Mom flashed across the screen.

Your chest tightened and you silenced the ringer. You'd call her tomorrow, you told yourself. Besides, she had already spoken to Matt.

When you reached the garden, you decided there was someone you should call while you waited. Ambling down a gravel path, you held the phone up to your ear, stuffing your other hand into the pocket of your jean jacket.

"Matt told mom that you passed out - are you okay?" Diana's voice on the other end registered genuine distress.

You rolled your eyes and sighed.

"I'm fine. My body is just adjusting to the bond and probably jet lag and whatnot."

"You better fucking be fine or I'm coming out there to make sure you are."

You laughed.

"To South Korea? On a Wednesday?"

"You know what I mean, god! You're so - hey! How did the fiancee thing go?"

"I knew you'd want an update."

"Spill."

You sighed.

"Uh-oh," she hummed, "That was your, things-are-an-effing-disaster sigh."

"It was no- why do you keep trying to divine my air flow like they're casting-runes or something? Will you just let me tell you?"

"You don't always say."

You huff in exasperation.

"Okay, well, I won't tell you what that sigh is," she mumbles in trepidation, "But I will tell you that I know enough to shut up and let you continue. Go on."

"It didn't go swimmingly."

"Fuck."

"Yeah,” You lifted your fingers to absently stroke at the petal of a rose. “She seemed very frightened by the whole situation, which is completely understandable. But then...she also kind of came at me. She started asking pretty intimate stuff about the bond right off the bat. When I tried to redirect by suggesting we get to know each other better she started saying all this stuff she already knew about me. About Dad and Mom."

"What?!" Diana gasped incredulously.

"It was almost as if...I don't know, I could have been reading her incorrectly, but it was almost seemed as if she was trying to bring things up that might knock me off my footing. Make me...insecure."

You suddenly remembered your conversation with Namjoon the previous night. He hadn’t let on that he had already known your father passed when you were a child...but he had known. Passing out during skinship had gotten in the way of the conversation you had intended to broach with him about knowledge of the other. You had done research before meeting him, but only the basics. You had felt that as much should come from him as possible. Clearly you hadn’t been given that opportunity.

"That bitch," Diana seethed, pulling your mind back into the moment.

"Hey, hey, hey," you cautioned her, "She's in a extremely difficult situation. And that was just my biased impression of her intentions. Don't be too quick to judge her, Di."

Diana hummed discontentedly.

"Also, she came to apologize to me today before she leaves on tour. We made progress, I think."

"Apologizing? Bare minimum," Diana said with an air of dismissal. "What did you say her name was?"

"Kim Hyung-seo. Her stage name is Bibi."

Diana was silent for a moment.

"Found her," she declared.

You smiled to yourself - of course she had found her, the woman was famous. It wasn't as if stalking measures were necessary (though you had no doubt of Diana's abilities should that have been the case).

Diana clicked her tongue in disappointment.

"She's hot."

"She is very pretty," you agreed.

"Yeah, but you're hot too. And, y'kow, you're you. Bet you're smarter..."

"Di," you said, stopping to pinch your brow, "We're not in some kind of competition. We're both just human beings navigating pretty uncharted waters, okay? We both have our strengths and weaknesses. She's going to be part of my life as Namjoon's wife, so not only is building a good relationship with her important to me, I have a responsibility to her as well. We all do. To each other."

Your sister paused on the other end before relenting sullenly.

"Yeah, yeah. I guess you're right - you do need to make nice with her...as long as they're married, that is..."

"DIANA."

"Okay! Geez!" Diana cleared her throat. "How is the soulmate doing?"

"He's getting stronger every day," you answered, happily moving the topic away from Hyung-seo.

"That's great!" she crooned.

"It is."

"Are you smiling? You sound like you're smiling."

"How are you doing, Di? Classes are starting soon."

You smirked as your sister's attention surged in a new direction, and for the next half an hour she regaled you with tales of her new housemates, and the smarmy and unseemly Johnnie (who had come crawling back, as predicted, upon returning to the States).

Upon hanging up with Diana, you checked the time, and discovered that it had been nearly an hour since you left Namjoon. You were starting to feel weak, and a bit cold - hunger, you told yourself - so you decided to return indoors for dinner.

You called Namjoon on the way up to the fifth floor to inform him if your change in plans. He apologized profusely, saying that the doctor had been detained, and asked you to join him for dinner.

Letting yourself into his suite, you shrugged your jacket off as you headed for your usual spot on the couch when, suddenly, you froze.

A man was rising to stand from where he had been seated on the sofa. He was clad in a dark blue button-down with a golden emblem on the shoulder and black slacks. He wore a black cap which bore a similar insignia to the one on his shirt and fit snugly over his short dark hair. He wasn’t as tall as Namjoon, though his shoulders were nearly as wide. His features were soft but arresting, and his deep brown irises, you thought, seemed to hold a bit of everything a pair of eyes could. Your comic book was in his hand.

You crossed the room toward him.

"Hi, I’m sorry, Namjoon will be here soon - oh, I'm his soulmate, Y/n," you stammered, before catching yourself.

The young man's sharp eyes widened, his lips parting as you bowed.

"Je ireum-eun Y/n imnida," you started over in Korean.

He bowed in return, raising his dark brown eyes to you again as he responded in a soft deep voice.

"Annyeonghaseyo, je ireum-eun Min Yoongi imnida."

92 notes · View notes

7ndipity · 11 months

Text

Dating a fellow Idol headcanons

Namjoon x Idol Reader

Warnings: mentions of angst, not proofread

A/N: Thank you to the lovely anon for sending this request! I tried to focus on the collab aspect like you wanted, tho now I'm just over here with a non existent song stuck in my head, lol.

Masterlist

Requests are open

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(I actually think someone also in the music industry would be a really good match for him)

Despite being know as the accidental spoiler king for letting little things slip, Joon was super careful when it came to your relationship.

He was very hesitant about going public. Like, that shit kept him up at night, thinkingabout all the things that could go wrong.

He's very protective (admittedly, sometimes a little too much so) and really values your privacy together, so the idea of popping that bubble was kinda terrifying.

But even more frightening was the thought of someone else popping it for you, which had almost happened several times when y'all were spotted together on dates and at events.

You ran in the same friend circles though, so it was easy to deflect rumors, but after so many close calls, you both decided it would be best(or at least better)to be open and honest about it.

Luckily, your fans were mainly happy for the two of you.

You were that insta-goals artsy couple, most of your photos together consisting of aesthetic museum and cafe dates.

Juxtaposed by random, goofy ass clips, like him drunkenly laughing on your couch at like 3am about some dumb joke you'd told him.

One of your favorite 'dates' though were the nights y'all would spend in studio working on music together. It was natural progression that you decided to do collab together.

You had been credited as co-writers on several songs(that was actually how you met fyi), but you'd never actually sang or performed on the same track before.

The song you chose was about missed opportunities and the importance and going after what you really want, rather than hoping for any second chances.

After the collab was announced, there were a few people who accused you of using his popularity for your benefit, but most of that was drowned out by an overwhelming wave of excitement and support from the fans.

The video shoot was a strange mix of fun and awkward. The creative team had decided to film it in a nostalgic, home movie style, with glimpses of the two of you, intercut with different shots from around the city. So it was kinda like going a date, but with a script and a film crew in tow.

It was definitely worth it tho, it was really sweet, both you and the fans loved it.

#namjoon scenario #namjoon headcanons #namjoon reaction #namjoon oneshot #namjoon scenarios #namjoon drabble #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x reader #namjoon idol au #namjoon x idol!reader #bts requests #7ndipity

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sweetlyskz · 2 months

Text

Strange||Chapter Three

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐏𝐨𝐥𝐲!𝐨𝐭𝟕 × 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐉𝐢𝐧 𝐟𝐨𝐜𝐮𝐬)

𝐒𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐉𝐢𝐧 𝐠𝐫𝐞𝐰 𝐮𝐩 𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐧 𝐨𝐫𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐧𝐨 𝐩𝐚𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐬 𝐨𝐫 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮, 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡 𝐥𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐟𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐜𝐥𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫, 𝐜𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐫. 𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐢𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞𝐝 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐩𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐛𝐲 𝐚 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐟𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐲, 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧𝐞.𝐖𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐡𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐞𝐧𝐬 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐨𝐮’𝐫𝐞 𝐧𝐨𝐰 𝐚 𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧, 𝐬𝐮𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐟𝐮𝐥 𝐚𝐝𝐮𝐥𝐭 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐢𝐱 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬?

𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: 𝐈𝐝𝐨𝐥 𝐀𝐮, 𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐬𝐥𝐨𝐰 𝐛𝐮𝐫𝐧, 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐮𝐚𝐥 𝐬𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐏𝐫𝐞𝐯||𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭||𝐍𝐞𝐱𝐭

PLEASE READ: I can't lie... It took me a minute to figure out where I wanted to go with this story- I CRIED! I hate that it took me so long to get this to you guys :(... Hopefully the updates will be a little more consistent. ALSO I did revamp the banner a bit- the other one just doesn't fit the direction I’m about to take with this fic so BE READY!

thanks for all the love <3

UNEDITED

Not once, did it ever occur to you to do a DNA test. You grew up in an orphanage, so obviously you didn’t really know your parents. Honestly, you had no reason to know them, to know if they're dead or alive. You had Jin. And when he left, you had Jae. That was enough for you.

But now knowing that your father was out there, and that he knew Jin, made you curious. You weren’t really curious about your father, more so your mother. But, how did he know Jin? Phone tapping? Listening to your private conversations? Is that something that your potential father is capable of?

After ending the phone conversation with Jin, you both agreed to meet at a discrete location. He didn’t have to say the usual spot, you already knew.

A tree behind the orphanage, now old and abandoned. Someone could’ve spotted you from a mile away, but you didn’t care. It’s not like you were famous or anything. Unlike Jin, who showed up in a black zip up hoodie with a mask. He looked like he was about to rob someone.

“Dude, you look like you’re gonna steal my purse or something”, you teased. “We’re literally meeting behind an abandoned building. I don’t think anyone is here.”

“You never know, especially with your dad.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth about this whole dad thing? This could just be another lie you’re spinning to get me to forgive you.”

He sighed. “At this point, I have no reason to lie. And this is serious, Ynie.”

You climbed your way up the old oak tree, sitting on one of the limbs. “Where is he? Do you know? He shook his head.

“No, and even if I did I wouldn’t tell you”, Jin snarked. “He is dangerous, deadly.”

“I don’t care, Jin. He’s my father. You can’t protect me from this one.”

He climbed up the tree also, claiming a spot next to you on the limb. He laid his head on your shoulder as you sat in silence.

Just like old times.

“You still lied to me. Don’t expect me to forgive you that easily”, you reminded him. Yes, hearing about your father puts things in a different perspective, but the principle still stands. His loyalties should lie with you, not your potential father.

“I’m really sorry”, he apologized. “And I’ll never forgive myself for what I’ve done, but I really hope we can try to move past this, together. I’m not saying that things have to go back to the way they used to be. You’re an adult now, so you don’t need me to look after you anymore. But maybe we can start over? Clean the slate?”

You smiled, on the brink of tears. “Maybe. I have missed my best friend a little.”

“A little?” Jin teased. “I know it didn’t seem like it, but there was never a single day I wasn’t thinking about you, missing you.”

His hand reached your cheek, wiping away the tears. God, memories were a bitch. All you can think about is old times, but the good times, not the bad ones.

“You know we’re gonna have to tell them, right?” He tucked a strand of hair behind your ear. “They’ll get suspicious if we’re suddenly the best of friends.”

You nodded. “I’ll tell them, don’t worry.” You both agreed it was better if you sat down and told his boyfriends the truth. Jin doesn’t always have a way with words, especially when their eyes pierced through his skull like daggers.

“I want to meet him, Jinnie”, you whispered. “I want to meet my father.”

The next week went smoothly. You and Jin began to reacclimate to being in each other's presence. The bangtan meetings were more productive, considering you actually showed up this time. The beginning was a little rocky, though.

“Well, look who decided to show up?” The leader complained. “You missed– I don't know— about three meetings!”

“I’m really sorry”, you apologized, giving a formal 90 degree bow. Jin laughed at your teasing.

“This is the last meeting before we start promotions. I couldn’t miss this.”

You all discussed the boring partnership mumbo jumbo. You didn’t really pay attention half the time. You mostly texted Jin, in need of a distraction.

“Anything else to add Miss Kim?” Their advisors asked you.

“Yes actually”, you replied. “But it’s actually more of a private matter. Could I ask you all to step outside for a quick second? Everyone except Bangtan, of course.”

The manager gave you a quick glare before obeying your orders, grabbing their belongings and walking out of the office.

“Is she about to murder us?” Tae jumped up out of his chair, making his way to the door. “I’m too young to die!”

Jin rolled his eyes. “Yah! Would you stop being so dramatic and get back in your seat?”

You laughed. “I promise, I have no ulterior motives. I just want to apologize.”

You could tell that obviously wasn’t what they were expecting. They looked at each other, all wondering why they weren’t being chewed out by you for being a bunch of dickheads.

“I realize that everything that happened wasn’t expected, and I never meant to uproot anyone’s life. To be honest, I didn’t even know who you guys were before this partnership— well besides Jin. And the reason Jin was keeping secrets is because I told him to. But I want to be the one to tell you everything.”

The room went silent. It was like everyone was on the edge of their seats, like a movie hitting the climax.

“Ynie, you don’t have to do this right now”, Jin assured you. “We can do this later, maybe when we’re all more comfortable with each other.”

You shook your head. “It’s okay. I need to do this now, or I’ll never do it. If I’m gonna ask for your help, you need to know the full story.”

“Help with what?” Joon questioned. “What do you need us for?”

“I need help finding my father.”

It was a silent ride back home for the boys. With everything going on in their heads, after everything you had told them, it was hard not to ponder over it.

Even when they got back to the dorms, it was quiet. Jimin couldn’t help but beat himself up over his last actions, the way he first treated you. Looking at it from his point of view, you could see why he acted the way he did. But he still felt foolish for thinking that a person like you would be out to get him, to take what’s his. They all sat in the living room, stuck in their heads.

“We need to talk about this”, Jungkook said, breaking the silence.

“You’re right”, Hoseok agreed. “I think we should help her. Good karma, you know?”

Jin shook his head. “You don’t understand. I’ve met him before. He is dangerous. I don’t want him anywhere near her.”

“Okay, but that’s not your decision to make, Jin”, Yoongi argued with his arms crossed. “As a good friend, you need to just support her decisions and help her when she makes mistakes. You can’t make decisions for her.”

Joon agreed. “Yoon is right. Keep her from this and you might lose her entirely... again.”

“Then what do I do?” Jin asked desperately. “Just let her get hurt?”

Jimin consoled his exasperated boyfriend, lighting massaging his shoulders. “Yes, and be there for her when it happens-if it happens.”

All of those years he spent protecting you, raising you. To be honest, he missed it. But you’re not a little girl anymore. You're a grown woman, capable of making your own decisions. And he is a grown man, responsible and mature.

“Okay”, Jin agreed. “Let’s help find her father.”

“Are you seriously gonna hang out with the same people that hated you like two days ago?”

You were getting ready to have lunch with the boys. You invited Jae to come along, wanting an icebreaker in case things are still awkward. He was helping you get ready in your lovely walk-in closet.

“We are all mature adults, Jae. Get over—”

“And let me also remind you, that Jimin guy embarrassed you in front of millions of people! They're all a bunch of dicks.”

“My favorite”, you teased. He threw an old t-shirt at you.

“You have the humor of a teenage boy.” Jae picked a shirt hanging up in your closet, handing it to you.

“That one, so we can match!”

“Like a couple?” You asked sarcastically. “How cute!”

He snatched the shirt back. “Never mind. Jin probably wouldn’t want us to match anyway.”

You rolled your eyes. “Why would he care what I wear?”

“Because he’s totally crushing on you, him and his boyfriends— maybe not Jimin though.”

"You're delusional", you scoffed. "There's seven people in that relationship. I bet they're not looking for anymore."

"Whatever you say... But that Namjoon guy was definitely checking you out at the awards show."

Another shirt was thrown across the closet, and with that drawer of socks, but even after the conversation ended you wondered…

Was what Jae said true?

Taglist (if @ is purple I can’t tag you :()

@scuzmunkie @moon-cupcakes @quillan-pie @uarmyhore @xjiminsthighsx @dreamamubarak @exfolitae @snookerbooker @bex-tk1 @prettybitxc @frieschan @whipwhoops @lulu-83 @minaaathings @demarie04 @svnbangtansworld @juju-227592 @bangtantxts @blancflms @girl-nahh @kameko-ko @cutiethecupcake @worcesheshestershiresauce @irishhbamb

Lmk if I forgot to add you or you would like to be added <3

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katnisspeetaprim · 5 months

Text

Broad Day Light

Min Yoongi/Reader

Im so sorry if this is bad. i haven't had time to properly edit this. I've been sick again recently, but I wanted to get at least something out for you guys!

Warnings: Injury, crowds, anxiety, established relationship, idol!au

Word Count: 1203 M.list

Walking down a busy street in the middle of the day shouldn’t have been an anxiety inducing task, but here you are. That’s all it’s felt like these days.

You and Yoongi went public a few years ago and paparazzi and sasaeng’s had mostly started to leave you alone after a few months, just the odd personal space invader here and there, but you learnt to live with the new found attention.

Fast forwards to 2023 and Yoongi’s solo tour was well under way. With a world tour came massive media attention, and with media attention, came paparazzi.

You weren’t famous, so having people run up to you with cameras was a surreal experience.

You tried your best to shield your face, but it was to no avail as the group of photographers bolted towards you from across the road.

‘Y/N! Over here!’

‘Are you going to any of the shows!?’

The group of men had effectively blocked your path, not allowing you to leave.

‘Please let me through. I have somewhere to be...’ You mumbled and wrapped your arms round yourself as you kept your head down and away from the cameras. You started forcing your way forwards.

‘Y/N! Yoongi and Halsey have been acting close! Did something happen between them!? Is that why you aren’t on tour with him?’ You know you shouldn’t dignify these people with a response, but the gall of implying that Yoongi would cheat on you with someone that had become a good friend to the both of you... It was enough to make you rage.

‘Of course not! They are good friends, now let me through- Ah!’ As you forcefully pushed your way through the crowd, you didn’t realise how close you were to the curb. Your ankle rolled, causing you to topple over into the road.

Your hands, arms and knees were all scratched up, along with a twisted ankle. At least no cars were coming so you wouldn’t get run over. Though that seemed like a more preferable situation than the one you were currently in.

‘AH!’ You shakily sat up and grabbed your ankle, causing you to hiss out in pain.

‘Please just leave me alone!’ You screamed out and swiped out at the paparazzi circling round you.

‘Hey that’s assault! She just tried to hit me!’ One of the men shouted out, trying to garner sympathy with his fellow low lives.

You were all but breaking down into a full blown panic attack, when all of a sudden you felt a wave of hope flow through you when you heard the shouts of police officers approaching the scene.

‘Hey! What’s going on here? Out of the way!’ They pushed through the crowd and one knelt next to you, whilst the other two pushed back the group, ultimately threatening arrests if they didn’t dispurse.

‘Miss? Are you ok? Are you hurt?’

‘My ankle- I think it’s twisted!’ You whimpered, trying to hold back your tears.

‘Don’t worry. We’ll get you to the hospital.’

Hours later and you were finally able to go home. With a lot of help from your best friend, you were now sat in your living room, feeling sorry for yourself with your poor ankle all wrapped up.

The scraped that littered your limbs weren’t too bad, just a little sore. Stories had hit the web pretty much immediately, along with plenty of videos of the incident, filmed by multiple people.

With any luck, Yoongi would be too busy to even think about going online...

-Incoming video call from Yoongles-

Ah well. There goes that idea.

After a slight hesitation, you pushed the green answer button.

Yoongi suddenly appeared on screen. He’d clearly changed out of his concert gear and was now clad in comfy sweat pants and a jumper.

And he looked pissed.

‘Hey Yoongi...’ You trailed off, trying to sound normal.

‘Seriously? You going to pretend nothing happened?’ He stared at you in disbelief.

‘You should have called me when it happened!’ He continued on, raising his voice ever slightly.

You looked away from the screen, feeling guilty that you tried to keep it from him. Of course he would see the articles, so it was pointless to even try.

‘I’m sorry...’

Yoongi took in your defeated appearance and groaned internally for adding more upset to your already stressful day.

‘No, I’m sorry for shouting. When I saw what happened, I just got so angry.’ He paused for a moment before shaking his head. ‘You got hurt because of me...’

‘Yoongi no!’ You sat up straighter, trying to reassure him. ‘This isn’t your fault. At all!’

He nodded slowly, but you could tell by the look in his eyes that he didn’t believe you.

‘I’m going to send you the number for one of our bodyguards. If you need to go somewhere, get him to drive you.

Yoongi suddenly moved the phone in his hands. He was clearly texting you.

You couldn’t help but smile at your boyfriend.

‘Yoongi! I’m sure they have better things to do than look after me!’ His message however, had already pinged on your phone.

‘You got attacked in broad daylight Y/N. Seems pretty serious to me.’ Yoongi deadpanned as he stared you right in the eyes.

The smile fell from your face. You couldn’t argue with the fact that you would feel a lot safer with someone escorting you...

‘I won’t be going anywhere for a while. My ankle is all screwed up.’ You joked, trying to lighten the mood a little.

You didn’t get to see Yoongi often these days, given how in demand he was. The last thing you wanted to do with your precious time together was be miserable.

Yoongi smirked mischievously.

‘Maybe you’ll stay out of trouble then.’ You drew back in mock offense.

‘Excuse me!?’ Where has the compassion gone to?’

‘I’m sure you’ll survive.’ He said, trying to hold back his smirk.

You couldn’t hold back and began to laugh for the first time that day.

‘I wish I could be there for you’ Yoongi suddenly spoke over your laughter. You immediately went quiet, knowing that Yoongi was still upset by the days events.

‘It’s ok. This is enough, for now.’ You smiled gently and gestured towards the phone screen separating the two of you.

‘Remind me again why you couldn’t come with me?’ Yoongi groaned and slumped back in his chair.

‘You know why. I couldn’t get off work.’ You giggled as you also snuggled down into your chair.

He frowned before once again beginning to type on his phone.

‘What’s wrong?’ You enquired curiously.

‘I’m not there, but Tae will be close by tomorrow. I’m sending him to check on you.’

‘Oh my god!’ You exclaimed with a laugh. ‘I can’t convince you I’m fine can I?’

‘Definitely not.’

You and Yoongi spent a long time on call together that night, making the most of every moment.

It was only after ending the call for the night, did you notice Taehyung had sent you a message.

Hey noona! Hope you are ready for a home spa day tomorrow!

P.S, Please tell Yoongi-hyung I made you happy... He’ll kill me if I fail!

#bts #bts x reader #imagine #one shot #scenario #reaction #fluff #angst #kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #kim namjoon #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #idol!au

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chans-room · 2 years

Text

Stress Relief

Pairing: Frat boy! Namjoon x thick college! Reader (poly ot7 x reader alluded to)

Genre: established relationship, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut

Rating: 18+ only

Warnings: Hurt feelings bc of a professor, thick reader insecurities, reader talks poorly about herself briefly, imposter syndrome feelings, day drinking to cope with emotions, explicit sexual content, Daddy Dom!Namjoon, sub!Reader, over use of the word Daddy, fingering, marking, cockwarming, dumbification if you squint, finger sucking?, talks of punishment, allusions of a d/s relationship

Word count: 1.9k

Thank you @eureka-its-zico for helping me edit this and alway reading the random stuff that comes out of my brain.

————————

She sighed, dropping her bag on the floor, making a bee-line for the kitchen. She figured no one would be home, and by the time someone did come home, she would be wasted. She picked a half-empty bottle of tequila off the counter, unscrewing the cap and taking a drink.

“What’s got you so worked up, baby?” Namjoon’s deep voice stopped her in her tracks. Her eyes slid over to his form, sprawled out on the couch lazily watching her. “Is my girl skipping class to drink all by herself?”

She pouted, walking over to him before plopping herself in his lap, not bothering to discard the tequila bottle as she slotted her knees over his hips. She normally wasn’t so bold as to put all her weight onto any of them, still conscious of her size despite their many, and repeated, protests. His giant hands reached out to take hold of her, kneading into her plush thighs. “No, I didn’t have class today because we had individual evaluations,” she mumbled, taking another shot as the tears welled in her eyes.

Namjoon frowned at her, wiping away a stray tear that she didn’t realize had escaped, “Oh baby girl,” he sighed, taking the bottle out of her hand before crushing her into his chest. She couldn’t hold it in anymore; she let the tears fall from her eyes as he rubbed her back gently, whispering softly in her ear as he held her.

“I just feel so stupid, Joonie,” she whimpered, burying her face in his shirt, her arms wrapped around him.

“Baby you’re not stupid,” he cooed, kissing the side of her head, “I don’t date stupid girls. And you’re my only girl,” he teased gently, making her pout at him.

“You didn’t hear what he said,” she mumbled sadly into his shoulder.

“What did he say to you baby,” Namjoon asked gently, his hand threading into her hair as he held the back of her head. She closed her eyes, releasing the tension in her shoulders, already feeling more calm. Namjoon had that effect on her, he always had. He seemed to know when she needed to be held, and his embrace was a solace for her. “Come on now baby, I know you’re a lightweight but you’re not about to pretend two sips of tequila can take you out.”

“It’s not the tequila, Joonie,” she sighed, nuzzling into his neck, “You know my brain goes a little fuzzy when you hold me like this. It makes me feel safe.”

He laughed, his lips dropping to the top of her head before pulling her tighter to his chest, “That’s because you’re my love, and you’ll always be safe with me,” he said seriously, “Now tell me what your professor said to you, baby.”

“He told me that I should never have been let into the program because I’m not good enough and implied that I stole the spot from someone more deserving,” she recounted sadly. She had felt extra confident walking to class that morning with Jungkook by her side — she had been so sure her professor would have some positive feedback for her final project that she'd even worn the cute, but short, dress Jin had put in her closet the week before. But the meeting had undercut any confidence she’d been building.

Namjoon’s body went rigid under hers, the shame from her professor’s words cutting through her like a knife as she sunk back into herself. Maybe her professor was right and Namjoon just didn’t know how to tell her he agreed. What if everyone agreed but hadn’t said anything to her to spare her feelings? Shame rose in her chest like bile and she tried to push herself off of Namjoon’s lap, but she was caught by his strong arms easily.

“Baby girl, tell me what’s happening in your head right now,” he demanded, his voice dropping an octave in the way he only did when he was slipping into a dominant headspace, or when he was angry.

“Do you think he’s right?” She whispered, earning a sharp inhale from Namjoon.

“I can’t understand why anyone would say something so disgustingly false to you,” he spat out through ground teeth, tugging the hair at the back of her head firmly to tilt her head backwards. The rage burning in his eyes made her stomach flip, a small gasp flying out of her mouth at his sudden aggression. “No one should talk to you like that. You’re fucking amazing, and smart, and talented, and the fact that he suggested that you were anything less, is not only ridiculous, but stupid.”

“I really appreciate you saying that, but he’s my professor and his opinion of me is really important, Joonie—“ she sighed, but was cut off by another firm tug on her hair and the soft moan that followed.

“Do you think that I would lie to you, baby girl,” he smiled darkly as her eyes rolled back, “Do you think that low of me?”

“No, daddy,” she pouted, making him hum in approval, “But you tell me to be a good girl and respect my professors, even if I don’t like them.”

“You’re right, sweet girl,” he smiled softly, releasing her hair before both of his hands wrapped around her thighs tightly. “But I don’t like this professor of yours very much. And I doubt anyone else will appreciate what he had to say about our perfect girl either.”

“But what if he’s right, daddy?” She sighed, her gaze dropping to her hands, “I’m not as smart or talented or driven as the rest of you,” she mumbled sadly.

“Nope, none of that. What’s rule number two?” Namjoon asked seriously, catching her chin between his fingers and tilting her head up.

“I’m not allowed to talk badly about myself,” she mumbled, staring into his eyes.

“That’s right,” He nodded, “Now hold onto me,” he instructed before propelling himself off the couch, keeping her pressed tightly to him as he headed up the stairs to his bedroom.

“Namjoon! Put me down! I’m too—“

“If you say one more negative thing about yourself today, baby girl, I’ll tell Yoongi and I’ll let him decide what your punishment is, you got that?” He said

Her arms wrapped around his neck tightly, “Am I being punished right now?” She whispered into his neck, almost afraid of what the answer was going to be.

“No baby,” he said kicking his bedroom door closed with his heel before settling against his headboard, not letting her move off his lap. “You need to remember how important you are, and how loved you are. I can see you doubting yourself, and me, so we’re going to try something.”

She nodded, grateful that he was able to understand her as intimately as he did. One look and he knew how vulnerable she was, and she trusted him to take care of her needs. His plush lips met hers firmly, making her melt further into his embrace. There was something about the way he kissed her that rendered her brain useless. Her hips started rocking against him of their own volition, his hard length dragging against her core.

She almost didn’t realize his hands were already under her dress until she heard a loud rip, a small gasp flying out of her mouth. “I’m sorry, baby, I’ll buy you a new pair, but I’m not letting you out of my arms,” he shrugged, a finger sinking into her heat. She whined loudly at the intrusion, her hands finding purchase in his wheat coloured hair. She’d helped him choose the colour after he lost a bet against Hoseok. “Fuck, you’re so wet for me already. You’re my good girl, aren’t you?” He asked sweetly, making her cheeks flush.

“I always try to be good for you,” she sighed. Namjoon’s hands always made her feel good, giving her more pleasure than pain, and rarely teasing her. Those giant hands of his — the ones everyone else said were the cause of destruction — were only used to destroy her sanity when they were on her body. His long, thick fingers could reach spots she could only dream of, and always managed to remain gentle, even in the most heated moments.

“You’re such a good girl, baby,” he smiled tenderly, removing his finger from her entrance. But before she could protest, his tip was at her entrance, making her eyes roll back. “That’s it, just take my cock nice and slow, baby girl,” he said encouragingly, holding her hips in his hands. He inched himself inside her, painstakingly slow as she whined and shuddered against him, “You’re doing so good,” he whispered into her hair, voice low and raspy.

“Daddy,” she keened desperately, burying her face in his neck as she showered the exposed golden skin in affection, leaving a collection of hickeys across his chest. “Please, don’t tease me,” she whispered before he bottomed out, dragging a breathy moan from her.

He chuckled softly, trailing his fingers up and down her back to calm her, “I’m not going to fuck you into the mattress like I know you want me to,” he grinned, but her mind had gone blank. All she could focus on was how full she felt; it wasn’t an entirely new sensation, but it was usually accompanied by him pounding into her like he had a point to prove. Namjoon was huge everywhere, and he’d always made her feel deliriously fucked out whenever they were together but now, just sitting with him inside her made her realize how entirely consuming he could be when he wanted to be. She felt like she was floating, only half in reality as he settled her weight against him as he saw fit.

She was almost dizzy at the sensation, her words slurring as he held her hips against his with one arm, “Fuck, daddy, ‘m so full,” she mumbled, her hands shaking as she clung to him, eyes trying to focus on his face.

She could see his proud smile, “My perfect little girl, so full she can’t focus,” he hummed happily. Her eyes rolled back as he pulled her almost impossibly closer, changing the angle as her face came to rest against his chest, cradling the back of her head in his hand.

If her mind hadn’t been blank before, it was now. The gentle lull of his heartbeat in her ear, combined with the mind numbing fullness, and the comfort and security of Namjoon’s embrace had her nodding dumbly.

“We’re gonna sit like this until everyone else comes home, and then we are going to remind you how perfect you are,” he explained, getting a slow nod in return. She was struggling to stay coherent, and he knew it. “God, you look so good like this baby, so perfect. Your eyes are all glassy and your cheeks are flushed,” he smiled, lifting one of his fingers to her lips to trace over the curve of her Cupid’s bow.

She gazed up at him through her eyelashes, taking the pad of his finger into her mouth, “Thank you daddy,” she mumbled, not bothering to remove his finger from her lips.

A low hum emanated from Namjoon’s chest as he stared down at her lovingly. Exhaustion overwhelmed her, the security of unconsciousness threatening to pull her under. “Daddy’s got you, baby girl,” he cooed softly, “Just rest. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

Tagging @bibbykins @walkxthexmoon @blushingatyou @smasmashie for telling me to post this 🥴 sorry it’s like a week later than I said

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