#KIM NAMJOON WHAT THE FUCKING HELL

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YO WTF IM FINDING OUT ABT RPWP NOW ????

A WHOLE FUCKING ALBUM ????

[thatgoddamngingerundercut]

[kingofbodyrolls]

BTS fic recs: July 2024

Hi! Thank you so much for looking at my fic recs— I truly hope you find something that you haven’t read, or something to reread maybe? Please show all of these wonderful authors some love on their original post to let them know they made something wonderful ✨

Some of the authors on this list is on hiatus, but please don’t let that stop you from reblogging or commentating on their story— because you don’t know when they might pop back in and see your lovely comment/reblog, so please— if you like something, show some love to the author 🥰

I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty or dark as hell, so minors dni.❗ 

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the fic, it might seem like a tiny gesture, but it really means a lot for writers and I can guarantee it will put a smile on their faces💜 Let’s share and give lots of love!

Looking for more to read? Check ‘The Library’ or last years recs 🙂

[index] → jan | feb (jhs) | mar (myg) | apr | may | jun | 💜 | aug | sep (jjk)(knj) | oct (pjm) | nov | dec (kth)(ksj) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, fantasy = 🪄.

⭐Ours @worldwidemochiguy [3.4k]  // knj x f.reader x myg x jhs // est. relationship, polyamorous, yandere, criminal!au, university!au // 🥵😈

📝 you’ve always known that Namjoon, Yoongi and Hoseok are ‘dangerous’, but when one of your classmates decides to try and approach you, you learn just how dangerous they really are….

🗨️ utter delicious filth. That is what this is 🥵 really good, and I weirdly wanna know more about all of rap line’s background 😂 but holy shit, the smut 🔥

⭐Next Level, Space Level @back2bluesidex [1.4k]  // knj x f.reader // idol!au, cheating!au // 🥵🌩️

📝 how can Namjoon deny you when you are ready to give yourself to him?

🗨️ I feel so bad for Jimin 😭 I hate cheating, but the story was really good and I loved that Namjoon knew and felt it was wrong, but poor man wouldn’t help himself in the end 😭 OC was indeed a siren in this one 😭

⭐1-Year Anniversary @johobi [7.8k] // knj x f.reader // est. relationship // 🥵🥰

📝 your 1-year anniversary is fast approaching and you’re determined to gift Namjoon the one thing he would never dare ask for. 

🗨️ omg this was so utterly amazing and hot 🥵✨ Another favorite and I loved everything about it 💯💜

⭐Embrace @rmnamjoons [3.9k] // knj x f.reader // bf2l, idol!au // 🥵🥰

📝 you and Namjoon have been best friends for years, and you’ve been secretly in love with him basically the entire time. You both love cuddling and being close, much to the amusement of your friends, but to you, being with Namjoon like this means everything. You’ve always believed that Namjoon didn’t feel the same way as you, no matter how much you wanted him to, but maybe there is actually something else behind Namjoon’s cuddles, other than just innocent friendship.

🗨️ this is so fucking soft, cute and sweet and the smut is just so tender 🥹 a really awesome read and I really love it! Might read this one again sometime ✨💯💜

⭐My Only Wish @ppersonna [15.1k] // knj x f.reader // e2l, fake dating!au, coworkers!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 there are few things you hate most in this world. Hornets, unnecessary fruit pieces in otherwise perfectly good jello, certain shades of orange… But nothing takes the cake more than two simple things. Christmas. And Kim Namjoon. So why did you agree to pretend to be Kim Namjoon’s girlfriend at his family Christmas party? Bah-Humbug.

🗨️ the way that I am screaming and kicking because of how incredibly awesome this was 😭✨ The tension? The built up?? God. That tension was so fucking thick and hot, I was going feral through most of the reading. I mean, what isn’t there to love in this one? Amazing, I loved it so fucking much it’s illegal 💯💖🥹

⭐Everything I Brew, I Brew it for You @angelicyoongie [2.1k] // ksj x f.reader // f2l, witch!au // 🥰🪄

📝 left intentionally blank by the author.

🗨️ oh this was really cute and I loved their chemistry 🥹🥰

⭐10 Years @yoonpobs [7.2k] // ksj x f.reader // brother’s best friend // 🌩️

📝 10 years change people but you still remember.

🗨️ I really like this because of the angst and tension in it and also, because of the ending! So so good, and I love that oc is being true to herself 🥹✨ It’s really angsty and on the sad side!

⭐Reunion Sex @jeonsbabygirlsworld [1.7k] // ksj x f.reader // est. relationship, marriage!au // 🥵

📝 Seokjin has been now out from his military service, but he has buried himself with work and you miss him, miss sex.

🗨️ so hot 🥵

⭐I’m All Yours @sailoryooons [2.3k] // ksj x f.reader // bf2l, idiots2lovers // 🥰

📝 you’ve been in love with your best friend Jin for as long as you can remember. You know everything about him – except that he is also entirely in love with you.  

🗨️ soft, cute, sweet, sugary fluff 😭 It’s so good, perfect and amazing. Loved it 💖 💯

⭐Sit. Stay. @daechwitatamic [14k] // ksj x f.reader // s2l, neighbors!au // 🥰🥵🌩️

📝 your new puppy, Zinnia, has turned your world on its head. She’s ruined everything from your sleep schedule to your favorite shoes, and you know it’s your own failure to train her properly. When your cute upstairs neighbor tells you about a local obedience academy, he slowly starts to make himself a place in your schedule, your life, and your heart. After your last relationship went up in flames, will his affections be something else you can count as a failure? 

🗨️ this was so fucking cute 🥹 The plot was super cute and sweet, oc with her puppy, meeting Seokjin 🥹 It was just so fluffy, I feel so warm and giddy after reading this. I loved it and a new favorite hands down 💯💖

⭐Those Eyes Chico [ongoing series] @kookslastbutton [n/a] // myg x f.reader // idol!au, coworkers2f2l, slowburn, forbidden love // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 as the new marketing director for Min Yoongi’s upcoming D-Day album & tour, you’re expected to bring your expertise to the table. This shouldn’t be a problem—you’re the best in the business and you’re used to drawing a strict line between your professional and personal life. But what happens when the lines you’ve fought to keep as separate blur for the first time?

🗨️ this is so so so incredibly good! It’s very cute and soft and it’s so nice to explore their relationship. I’ve read the first three chapters and they’re so good! I can’t wait to read more of this series ✨

⭐Whirlwind @ysljoon [3.1k]  // myg x f.reader // e2l // 🥵

📝 with a hurricane coming your way towards your state, your roommate provides a safe haven to the man you’ve despised for as long as you can remember.

🗨️ fucking hell, I love forced proximity 😭 and then you throw enemies to lovers in it? With Yoongi?? ✨ I loved the plot and the smut too! Jimin was indeed a sneaky little thing, and I think he planned this all along lol 😂 Seriously loved it 💖

⭐STEAM [completed series] @hoseoksluna [n/a] // myg x f.reader x jjk // est. relationship, threesome // 🌩️🥵

📝 one video call awakens your neediness for two cocks.

🗨️ I’ve finally read the whole thing and it was so fucking damn amazing! Incredible! There’s a lot of angst though, but it’s so so good.

⭐Between the Titles @highvern [9.5k] // myg x f.reader // f2l, university!au, library!au // 🥵🥰😂

📝 five days a week in the library means you're very familiar with the senior research librarian. It also means he has no qualms about making his own book recommendations either.

🗨️ wow omg this one is amazing 😭 It is super cute, and funny too!!! I loved the extra books oc and Yoongi gave each other, very passive aggressive flirting and the titles was fucking hilarious 😂 I fucking loved it! Everything about it, the writing, the tension between oc and Yoongi, roommate Tae, Jungkook, well, everything was just so fucking perfect ✨💯

⭐Three Tangerines [series; ongoing] @kithtaehyung [n/a] // myg x f.reader // fuckboy!yoongi, brother’s best friend!au, age gap!au // 🌩️🥵🥰

📝 throughout high school, you sometimes caught glimpses of your brother’s older friends: some of them were sweet, some of them were smart. but the one closest to him? that guy was a total f*ckboy from day one. after a foray of horrid relationships spanning years - ending with one that broke up with you for an alarming reason - you needed advice on what the hell you were doing wrong… and this wasn’t a conversation for anyone sweet or smart.

🗨️ 3tan is back on the list!!! 🥰 In case you haven’t read the new extra ‘Lollipop’ please go do it now, it’s so fucking good, sweet and dirty ✨

⭐Sonic Rain @jungblue [25k] // jhs x f.reader // s2l, dancer!au, college!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 feeling as if molasses coats his bones isn’t a good metaphor for a dance major like Hoseok, but maybe you’re the girl that can wash his troubles away… Now if only he’d gotten your damn number.

🗨️ wow. This was so freaking amazing I’m slightly speechless! The plot was amazing, their chemistry exceptional. I really loved how cheeky and bratty MC was 🥵 and the rain? Dancing in the rain? I just imagined that step up rain scene 😭 I loved Jimin and Sana too, such good and supportive friends and Hobi to them too 🥹 And the smut….. Fuuuuccckkk it was so good 😭🥵 If you haven’t read this one, please do it now! ✨💯

⭐Jealous @jamaisjoons [3.4k] // jhs x f.reader // idol!au, est. relationship, pwp // 🥵

📝 Hoseok’s jealousy really brings out the dom in him.

🗨️ whaaaaat 🥵🥵🥵

⭐Blue Side @hamsterclaw [7.7k] // jhs x f.reader // brother’s best friend, criminal!au // 🥵🌩️

📝 Hoseok's always known you as Namjoon's little sister. One day, he realises you're more than a match for him.

🗨️ oh my, my palms were sweaty and my heart was beating so fast while I read this! The pacing and wording was so good! I loved the action scenes, the racing and all the projection from both Namjoon and Hobi 🥹 so sweet 🥹 I really loved it 💖

⭐Blue Side Next Door @scriptaed [24.1k] // jhs x f.reader // f2l, neighbors!au // 🌩️🥰

📝 between the windows of two souls, one with a perpetually lone heart and another with the scar of an unfaithful partner, the blue side overlooking the roof of their neighborhood best friend is a solace that has stood against the test of time. they were there to lend the other a shoulder to cry on, to spend the entirety of dawn whispering the night away, and to treat them in a way they deserved, a way no one else was capable of; because for the two childhood friends blinded by the thin line between friends and lovers, the soulmate they’ve both been searching for far and wide has always been right next door all along.

🗨️ this was so cute, sweet and fluffy, a bit bittersweet at times, but damn, it was just so cute 🥹 It was a lovely and fantastic read ✨💯

⭐Exposed @jeonsweetpea [4.9k]  // jhs x f.reader // idol!au, coworkers2l // 🥵

📝 you oversleep instead of getting ready for an interview shooting and your stylist is not pleased. The two of you rush to the elevator, only for it to break down. Now you both are trapped and he decides to give you a punishment.

🗨️ WOW HELLO??? 🥵 How Hoseok seamlessly switches between devilish Hoseok and angelic Hobi was so fun and hot, damn. He was really a menace to oc, but fuck it was so fucking hot 🥵 I really loved it 💖

⭐Gleaming Silver @crystaljins [3.5k]  // pjm x f.reader // f2l, pirate!au, mermaid!au // 🥰🪄

📝 you love and trust your captain above all. But perhaps he’s not the man- or rather human you thought him to be.

🗨️ this is a short one, but it’s so fucking cute. There’s some lore in it too, and it’s just so good! You have to read it ✨

⭐Innocence @swanlakebaby [2.6k]  // pjm x f.reader // est. relationship, virgin!au // 🥰🥵

📝 jimin taking your innocence.

🗨️ okay this a was really sweet and cute idol!au 🥹🥰

⭐Just a Little Bit of Love (is all you really need) @gukyi [4.5k] // pjm x f.reader // s2l, gymnastics/dancer!au // 🥰

📝 jimin’s something of a legend at gymnastics, but suddenly you walk in and turn his whole world upside down. quite literally, might i add. 

🗨️ this is so freaking cute and sweet 🤭🥹 It’s completely SFW, and so so good! 

⭐The Underneath @sailoryooons [1.7k] // pjm x f.reader // s2l, monster!jimin, thriller/horror // 🥰

📝“Battle not with monsters, lest ye become a monster, and if you gaze into the abyss, the abyss gazes also into you.” – Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and Evil OR there is a monster under your bed and you've looked back at it for too long. 

🗨️ this was so so good! It’s very thrillery with undertones of horror. I really liked it ✨

⭐Cherry Blossoms @chateautae [12k] // pjm x f.reader // magic!au, mentor!jimin // 🥰🥵🌩️🪄

📝 despising the lack of offensive capability to your lackluster powers, your father, the school’s chancellor, signs you up for lessons with the magic university’s top-rated guard, park jimin. known to be an intense, reserved man with ruthless skills in battle, you come to learn he not only goes hard in a fight, but goes hard in another ruthless form of art—fucking.

🗨️ omg 😭 perfection?? That is what this was! The story and plot is cool and cohesive, the dynamic between MC and Jimin, damn it was hot! She doesn’t really believe in herself, but he believes in her, and tries to get her to see her own potential 🥹🥹🥹🥹 Cute! But then it gets filthy! And hot! There’s rain!!!! There’s smut in the rain! What more can I ask for?? ✨ It was just amazing! I loved it! Also all the magic, MC’s ability and then Jimin’s magic! They’re almost a contrast to each other, which I also really like! This is hands down one of my all time favorites!!! 💯💜✨

⭐Coffee Rings @tteokggukk [1.7k]  // kth x f.reader // est. relationship, grief!au, deceased reader // 🌩️

📝 it’s been a year since you and taehyung went your separate ways, but today’s your birthday and he misses you more than ever. though he never really liked coffee, he drinks them now because it reminds him of you. to pass the time, he heads over to your favorite coffee shop at one in the morning. what he did not expect, however, was to see you walking in, smiling at him.

🗨️ I cried okay 😭 it is sad, and cute, but mostly sad 😭 but it was really good ✨

⭐Kiss Me @euphoriyoongi [2.5k]  // kth x f.reader // e2l // 🌩️🥰

📝 you and Taehyung didn’t get along ever since you met. But as you both carried on with your life, it seemed like fate tied both of you together. One night you both discover your true feelings.

🗨️ this was so sweet and cute, it almost made me tear up 🥺 really beautiful and I loved it 💖

⭐The Phantom @darkestcorners [8.1k]  // kth x f.reader // s2l, yandere, horror, paranormal // 🌩️😈👻

📝 spending Halloween serving preteens greasy popcorn and cleaning spilled soda off the carpets isn’t what you had in mind for a fun night. But lucky for you, your night is about to get real interesting when a series of unfortunate events start occurring throughout the movie theater and your soon to uncover the horrifying curse that surrounds your part-time job.

🗨️ if you’re into thriller and yandere stories, this one might be for you! I was at the edge of my seat with this one and my heart was beating so damn fast trying to uncover what was happening while I read. It was a little bit predictable, but the ending blew my mind (and surprised me) ✨

⭐Waterloo @kinktae [13k] // kth x f.reader // s2l, photographer!au, art!au, slowburn, romcom // 🌩️🥵🥰😂

📝 Taehyung is a famous but pessimistic art prodigy who doesn’t believe in love. You are an art student studying in Paris, who sees the world through rose-colored lens and is a certified cheesy romance film enthusiast. And this is your love story. Or, “Well, it is the city of love. Maybe you just need to fall in love.”

🗨️ such a beautiful love story 🥹😭 I loved everything about it, how oc was not giving a shit about Taehyung, and how that in fact drew him in 🥰✨ And damn the ending, I loved it so much 🥹💜💯

⭐Good for Me @icedmatchatae [7.8k]  // kth x f.reader // est. relationship, bad boy!au // 🥵🥰

📝 you went home for the weekend, leaving a pissed-off and bruised-up Taehyung dry and devastated. So what does he do?—follow you home. Insane? Probs, but you’re always good for him so why not?

🗨️ weeee damn the smut was so hot in this one 🥵 also, this is almost like a “forbidden” relationship 🤭 I liked it very much 💜

⭐Chasing Cars [ongoing series] @oddinary4bts [n/a] // jjk x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au, forbidden love!au, college!au, slice of life!au // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 when your brother goes to study on a semester abroad, your life collides with his best friend Jeon Jungkook, who's coincidentally your roommate. Will you survive the collision, or will you crumble into dust?

🗨️ are you really surprised to find this here again? 💜 I do have stuff to add this month, so! I really truly love everything that Ella writes, and this series deals with so much trauma, it’s insane. It’s really heavy, but it’s so beautiful and delicate too?? I highly recommend reading it— it’s still ongoing (on chapter 12 out of 18). You’re in for a ride though, it’s pretty emotional. But it’s so human. It feels so real, deep and haunting. It’s amazing ✨

⭐Bite Me, Jeon @sailoryooons [19.3k] // jjk x f.reader // f2l, vampire!au, college!au // 🥵🌩️👻🪄

📝 somehow you convince Jeon Jungkook to look into theories of vampirism for a research paper. What Jungkook doesn’t expect, is for vampirism to become a very real and very personal problem for him.

🗨️ this one is insanely good! It’s so amazing! This one reminds me of Ghostfacers from Supernatural, lol. It was so freaking funny. I was pleasantly surprised at the plot, and I loved it. If you haven’t read this one yet, and you love vampires, this one is definitely for you!!! 🥰

⭐The Boys are Back in Town @dntaewithluv [3.2k]  // jjk x f.reader x pjm // f2l, threesome // 🥵🥰😂

📝 getting stood up by your date definitely hadn’t been on your agenda for the evening. Also definitely not on your agenda: bumping into Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook. Together. On the same exact night. It’s been a while since you’ve seen your two best friends, as well as lovers on multiple occasions, from your high school and college days. A chance meeting, some drinks, and a trip down memory lane is all it takes to reignite the attraction between the three of you. Old habits die hard, but these two? They just might be the death of you.

🗨️ this was so good! I really love this one 💖

⭐When Worlds Collide [ongoing series] @letjungcoook7 [n/a] // jjk x f.reader // college!au, slice of life!au, s2l, fuckboy!jk, virgin!reader // 🥵🌩️

📝 since your mother's passing a year ago, life has been a whirlwind. balancing your passion for ballet with a low-key presence at college, where you’re the top student, was your norm until Jungkook stepped into your world. known for his reputation preceding him, jungkook is the talk of the campus with his casual rendezvous that have the girls buzzing. despite his allure, you're puzzled by his need for your tutoring prowess, especially given his own academic merit. yet, succumbing to his persistent requests, you reluctantly agree, only to find yourself thrust into the spotlight you've always avoided.

🗨️ There was a new chapter released this month!! It’s still so good! ✨

⭐Confided @cravetive [5k] // jjk x f.reader // neighbor!au // 🥵

📝 y/n didn't think testing out a new sex toy would cause so much havoc but no worries, her next-door neighbor Jungkook doesn't mind lending her a bit of assistance.

🗨️ holy shit it was amazing and the smut….. Fuuuuck I’m not gonna lie here okay, I was dripping, I was feeling it so fucking bad and damn. It was hot. The plot was so silly and hot, like omg 🥵

This section features member x member stories— if you’re not into that, it’s okay, and you can just skip it. Otherwise enjoy 🥰

⭐Lavender Lover @gimmethatagustd [20.3k] // kth x pjm // f2l, vampire!au, soulmate!au // 🥵🥰🌩️🪄

📝 Taehyung broke all his rules for Jimin, even when it hurt.

🗨️ I am literally screaming and kicking myself 😭✨ This was perfect in every way imagined. Like fuck. And vampires? 🤧🥵 The smut?! It was so fucking hot, especially because Taehyung had practically denied himself for so long. Not wanting to put into words what was truly happening. Fuck. It was so good. Like the plot, the lore??? Come on! Amazing! I also loved Yoongi a lot, he was really funny 🤭 And the ending 😭 I was a hopeless romantic sobbing my heart out 🤧🤧🤧 it was so incredibly good and beautiful ✨ I think everyone should give this lovely piece a read 😍

⭐End of the World [21.3k]  // myg x f.reader // s2l, apocalypse!au // 🥵🥰😂🌩️👻

📝 your government has been telling you to prepare for war, just as a precaution given the recent political changes around your country. Did you listen and prepare? No. Are you paying the price now, friends all but gone, and your city burned to pieces? Yes. Survival instincts kicking in, you search for a place to rest, nourish your battered and hungry body, only to find yourself at the porch of a stranger. Will he help you, or leave you to your own demise? 

⭐Stuck in a Cabin [5.5k]  // pjm x f.reader // e2l, pwp // 🥵😂

��� cute and innocent looking Park Jimin is your lifetime nemesis that you’ve already fallen into bed with not once, but twice. Will a snowy weekend trip with your friends to a cabin in the woods make it the third time you get with your enemy? 

⭐to mend what’s broken [1.3k]  // pjm x f.reader // established relationship // 🌩️🥰

📝 struggling with childhood trauma, you believe you’re worthless and undeserving of love, but your fiancé showers you in love and lets you know otherwise.

Thank you so much for reading my rec list, I hope you’ll reblog it to make it reach more people! There’s some insanely good reads on here ✨

If you want more, you’re more than welcome to follow me! I do monthly rec lists and sometimes I post my own writing too (only bangtan). 

Love you and borahae 💜

[whyse7vn]

Us -

[ot7 x reader]

AGUST DUI 🛴🔥

7 participants - 7 online

———————————

tae: ok raise your hand if you think yoongi should of died in the crash

namjoon: why would you say that?

tae: jungkook raise your hand

jk: ok

tae: not in real life the emoji please

jk: ok sorry

wait how did you know i raised my hand in real life??

tae: just do it

jk: like nike LOL

tae: i’m going to skin you alive

jk: sorry

🙋🏻‍♀️

tae: why are you a woman

jk: gender is a construction

hobi: construct

jk: control

hobi: we are not playing a game

i am correcting you

jk: oh

tae: connecticut

hobi: stop

tae: i wanted to play :(

hobi: it wasn’t a game can you read

jk: omg i know someone from connecticut

i think

jin: you have no friends don’t lie jungkook

jk: no i swear i do

tae: he does

hobi: don’t act like you know

tae: i know

hobi: who is jungkooks friend then?

tae: jungkook tell this idiot ☠️

hobi: i’m asking YOU to tell me

jk: i don’t know who it is

but i know

i’m going to go insane who is it ohmygod

y/n: jaehyun lmao

hobi: oh

jin: yikes

jk: i’m sorry

tae: how dare she lmao like she didn’t just cook my first born alive by saying that name

jk: she typed it btw

tae: that’s not the point jungkook

i’m throwing up

jk: ur right me too

i’m sorry i’m sorry i’m sorry

y/n: ???

don’t be sorry

jk: >.<

yoongi: lol

jin: tf he laughing at?

yoongi: we’re always talking about jaehyun for some reason

hobi: be fr

yoongi: …

y/n: shouldn’t you be dead from the crash or something

tae: IM SAYING LIKE

jk: maybe he’s still drunk

hobi: LMAOOOO

yoongi: i did not crash

namjoon: he just fell over guys

yoongi: right

jin: ofc the bitch with no license is defending the other bitch with no licence

y/n: typical 🙄

yoongi: why do you know he’s from connecticut

y/n: what????

namjoon: uh??

jin: wasn’t he JUST complaining about how much we talk about you know who…

hobi: kook was right this man is still off the juiceeeee

ha juice by shinee

i’m so funny wow

tae: if we think about it wtf is connecticut

what the fuck is that srsly

i hate that

what does that mean

america is so strange

another white thing i don’t get

i hate white people

jin: ur borderline white

tae: wtf is wrong with you never say shit like that again

ur borderline old

ur borderline dying

AND ur paler than me

like wtf

this poc erasure

someone get him

jk: connecticut more like connectiYUCK 🤮🤢🤮🤢🤮🤢🤮🤢🤮🤢🤮🤢

EWWUUUUUU 🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤮🤮🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮

hell on earth

yoongi: what

namjoon: ?

yoongi: are we talking about again

i just lost my train of thought

hobi: choo choo

y/n: chuu chuu

namjoon: jaehyun…

jk: 🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤮🤢🤢🤢🤢🤢🤮🤢🤢

tae: AND we are talking about poc erasure if you even care

you probably don’t

because you’re a racist

just like your father namjoon

jk: yoongi is older than namjoon

btw

tae: ok???

maybe i wasn’t even talking to yoongi

jk: ok i’m sorry

tae: it’s ok son

hobi: who the fuck were you talking to then?

tae: well yoongi but like maybe i wasn’t at the same time yk?

y/n: shut up

jk: yes

y/n: ?

tae: ok raise ur hand if you think hoseok is being unnecessarily mean to kim taehyung the 3rd today

namjoon: anyways

yoongi are you ok??

yoongi: yeah sorry my head is just all over the place rn

forget everything i said

hobi: is this due to your alcohol consumption

or is it your age getting to you LOL

since your old

older than namjoon

jk: older than namjoon

jin: jungkook is 27 btw

y/n: 23 forever

jin: that’s almost 30 yk?

hobi: at least it’s not 31

yk…

like you

jin: ok

jk: ok !!!!

namjoon: yeah i don’t know what you wanted to get out of that one…

jin: kys

ALL of you

hobi: ❤️

jk: love is love

y/n: awoman

jk: awoman

tae: if you all loved me you would send me a stack

hobi: notice how no money is being sent to your account

take that into consideration

tae: how about you consider my fist in you face

ok i take that back

hobi: don’t

y/n: bryson tiller

tae: why not :(

you didn’t even know what i was gonna say hobi >.<

hobi: namjoon tell him to shut up

namjoon: tae please

tae: yeah ok 😔

cuz you know i do NOT want the smoke

he might do me like he did jaehyun 😭🙏🏼

hobi: will you STOP bringing that up

tae: will you send me a STACK?

hobi: no

tae: then NO

namjoon: both of you stop

also where is jimin??

physically i mean

like do any of you know?

yoongi: y/n’s house i think

y/n: no he’s not??

tae: woah

jk: btw that is also my house yoongi

so y/n AND jungkook’s house

yoongi: y/n and jungkook’s house then

y/n: he’s not here

yoongi: but he was

y/n: how do you even know that??

yoongi: i just do

y/n: ok ????

yoongi: ok

jk: ok \ ^0^ /

tae: wait

jk: JIMIN WAS IN OUR HOUSE ?????

jin: keep up ohmugod

jk: LIKE PHYSICALLY IN OUR HOUSE

WHERE I SLEEP AT NIGHT???

y/n: he wasn’t in my room no

if that’s what ur asking

jk: BUT HE WAS HERE???

AFTER HE WAS SO MEAN SO EVIL?!

y/n: it’s been weeks i was gonna talk to him at some point ig

hobi: communication is key!

not key from shinee btw

jk: WHEN DID HE COME????

WHY DID HE COME????

y/n: he came a few weeks ago

august 6th ? i think

to talk about everything and apologise

jk: you let him in?

tae: LIKE…

y/n: yes

jk: and where was i?

y/n: it was a wednesday so ur boxing class?

jk: i’ve been staying back for those classes

so he came late right?

y/n: yeah

jk: did you invite him?

y/n: no he kinda just showed up

jk: and you still let him in??

y/n: yes jungkook

jk: why didn’t you tell me??

y/n: i wasn’t trying to keep it a secret or anything it just a lot

like a lot seriously

i wanted to give both me and jimin some time to process it all before we brought it all back to you guys

but i was going to tell you

all of you

jk: yeah but like it’s been weeks…

namjoon: to be fair i also did talk to

jimin and didn’t tell anyone

jk: namjoon

jin: also did that

hobi: u all know i talked to him so…

jk: guys???

i’m confused like what he said was wrong but you’re all still talking to him

like everything’s ok???

namjoon: he apologised to her kook

jk: FUCK HIS APOLOGY?????

tae you get it right?? you didn’t speak to him right??

tae: no i get it

i get you

i understand fully

but i won’t lie to you

i DID speak to him

on the phone

only for 5 minutes tho

i counted

i just wanted to make sure he didn’t yk like kill himself or something…

you know jimin is weak like that

not calling people who commit suicide weak but like calling jimin weak cuz that’s what he is

jk: TAE?????????????

tae: SORRY SUICIDE IS REAL YK?

AND LIKE IT DOESNT TAKE AWAY FROM THE FACT THAT I STILL WANT TO PUNCH HIM IN THE FACE

i was just

uh

checking?

namjoon: you can say you were worried about him you know that

jk: SHUT UP???£/8/8/8,&&:&,

NO HE CAN’T

YOU ALL HAVE NO BACK BONE /£2&/&&:&:

NO LOYALTY

HE BASICALLY CALLED Y/N A WHORE AND YOUR ALL FRIENDS WITH HIM AGAIN??????

LIKE NOTHING HAPPENED?????

tae: NO I’M MAD IM STILL SO FUCKING MAD THE FUCK????

FUCK JIMIN I MEAN IT

jk: you are a liar

LIKE

guys what£/£/&/&:&:

i thought you guys were better than this ???

i thought you all cared

jin: don’t be stupid

of course we care

jk: then act like it????

y/n tell them

y/n: jungkook

jk: tell them

in fact

jk added jimin to “AGUST DUI🛴🔥”

jk: tell ALL of them

y/n: jungkook please

jk: y/n seriously

jimin: hey

jk: shut the fuck up

tae: dude

i know ur upset and angry but doing this rn isn’t gonna solve anything

namjoon: he’s right jungkook

ur acting on emotion and not thinking properly right now

jk: IM not thinking properly???

was jimin thinking properly when he called her a slut and then ran away like a bitch?? was he????

namjoon: obviously not jungkook

hobi: but they’ve talked it out and he’s said sorry

jk: HIS SORRY DOESN’T MEAN SHIT

WHAT DO YOU GUYS NOT UNDERSTAND?

his fucking sorry means nothing

him saying sorry doesn’t take back the words he said

or any of the hurt he caused

namjoon: jungkook like she told us they’ve talked about it and he’s apologised

i not sure what more you want

jk: I WANT YOU GUYS NOT TO MOVE ON SO FUCKING FAST??

I WANT YOU GUYS TO AT LEAST TELL HIM HOW FUCKED UP THAT ALL WAS

BOTH PUBLICLY AND PRIVATELY

he should be walking around eggshells around us rn

you guys should be giving him a hard time

not wondering where he is or whether he’s depressed or not

and you wanna know something?

after it all happened she cried for hours

hours

i have genuinely never seen her so upset

she told me not to tell anyone but i have to so guys can fucking understand

and the fact that we didn’t even know that her and jimin spoke???

does that not bother you all?????

the fact that she was “so fine” and “okay” about the whole situation but didn’t tell us that they had supposedly ‘made up’

tae: she said that she was planning on telling us

jk: yeah but she didn’t did she? it’s been weeks

she said they spoke august 6th right?

we are quite literally in a whole new month

and you ALL should know that when she doesn’t tell us things it’s because she’s upset

you should KNOW her

and how she deals with things

you all claim to care but i’m yet to see how

you know i was really excited about this

we were all you know realising

and coming to terms with this

us

i thought that we felt the same

but this has shown me that you guys don’t even feel a quarter of what i do for her

and you probably never will

the way that you all just took her word for her being fine and okay about the whole situation without actually genuinely checking in with her is insane and the way you all rushed to make sure jimin was ok was even crazier

i just

whatever

bye

—

as you can probably tell this was supposed to be released last month but i tried to adjust it as much as i could

tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @earthela @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @seokmyballs @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @meowgiz @jmnscutie @threeopossumsinacoat @cynicalyoongs @lightningpussy54 @eunthv @gigiiislife @lowkeykin @iammeandmeisiam @socksfirstalways @knilvr06 @lailaisarmy @thvkives @xstfudaisyx @xxxanimangxxx @solstice34 @ml8dy @hoeforseoks @futuristicenemychaos @featjunranghae @jksgirlfrl @yeetedandoboi @stellamalonesolaria @joonsprettygf

#happytimessoon >.<

[i-am-baechu]

ᡣ𐭩 Title: Mutual Understanding  

ᡣ𐭩 Paring: Rich! Playboy! Taehyung x Fortune teller daughter! Reader 

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

ᡣ𐭩 Rating: Explicit (18+) 

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

ᡣ𐭩 Part of the The Legendary Seven

ᡣ𐭩 Playlist - Cat & Mouse by Black Swan and Selfish by YooA

ᡣ𐭩 Authors note: I’m proud of this story and honestly my best writing so far me thinks 🥺

May 22 - I edited and added a scene that I felt like it was needed!

“One of the legendary sevens is off the market. Jeon Jungkook, the heartthrob, is going out with one of the students who was accepted through the Kim Scholarship. I heard she’s a fangirl for a gamer streamer so it will be interesting to see how their relationship goes. It’s of course noted that Jungkook’s father tried buying her house. I guess that's another way to keep your house. Until then, Pen.” 

“Your mom was right.”

Y/N rolled her eyes and rolled over in Seungkwan’s bed, “Don’t say that.”

“Y/N, she literally got every detail right. I have to give her credit.” Seungkwan tried to show his phone but she kept avoiding it, “Come on, Y/N. Can’t you just listen to your mom?” 

“Seungkwan, can you just show me that new game and forget about this?” 

“Remember what your mom said? You will find love in the next two months.”

Y/N let out a scoff and sat up in his bed, “That’s like me saying Kim Taehyung will be faithful. It will never happen.” 

Seungkwan pouted at his best friend and shook his head, “Let me dream for you.”

“Keep dreaming.” 

L/N Y/N, is one of the top students in her major (Radiologic Technology) and her best friend Boo Seungkwan is the top student of his major (Marketing) and was on the gossip site for their school. Seoul University is filled with rich people that lacked basic human kindness which is why everyone loved this website. The person behind it has never said their name but whoever it is, knows more than everyone. 

After Seungkwan’s badminton competition, Y/N went over to his house like she always did. Being friends since high school, they basically knew everything about each other. Like how Y/N’s dad left after a night out with his coworkers, she was only six. The one thing that Seungkwan was always curious about was her mother’s “power”. Her mother was a famous fortune teller who gets paid well by CEO’s and she's been doing this for years. Y/N didn’t believe anything her mother said but Seungkwan on the other hand believed every word. 

Y/N stood up from his bed and headed to the bathroom to brush her hair. Seungkwan followed her as he scrolled down his phone, “This says that Namjoon has a secret admirer.” 

She raised her eyebrow through the mirror and let out a small chuckle. “Are you surprised? Everyone has a crush on that group.” 

“Not you.”

“I have a brain, that's why.”

Seungkwan’s phone chimed and he smiled at the screen, “Vernon’s here.” 

“Is Seokmin here too?” 

“No? Why do you want him here?” 

She put her brush down and looked at him with a raised eyebrow, “Yes, it sucks feeling like a third wheel.” 

Seungkwan’s face turned red and pointed at her, “YO-YOU SHUT UP!”

Y/N let out a laugh and shrugged her shoulders, “It’s true. Let’s go downstairs to your boyfriend.”

“YAH! YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE A BOYFRIEND!”

“NO, I’M NOT!”

“YOUR MOM SAID-”

“DON’T BRING HER-”

“BOTH OF YOU SHUT UP!” 

Seungkwan and Y/N glanced at the door with a nervous look. Seungkwan’s sister isn’t someone to mess with, “So-Sorry.” 

Vernon came in and they were hanging out in Seungkwan’s room. They weren’t really talking but their company made it better. It wasn’t until Seungkwan shot up from his spot making Y/N jump, “What the hell?”

“Taehyung dumped Jennie.”

Y/N scoffed at this and rolled her eyes, “They weren’t together. Just fucking.”

“So, it doesn’t matter. They're done now because Jennie just posted a picture with her ex.”

Vernon sighed and glanced at Seungkwan’s phone, “We shouldn’t care about other people's lives.” 

“Especially Taehyung’s, he’s just a piece of shit that breaks poor girls' hearts.” 

Kim Taehyung let out a puff of smoke as he glanced at Jungkook who was texting on his phone. He glared at this and gently nudged him to get his attention, “Dude, you said you wanted to hang out but you're talking to your girl.”

Jungkook glanced up at Taehyung and rubbed the back of his neck, “Sorry.” He put his phone back in his pocket and gave his friend a concerned look, “I wanted to hang out because I saw Jennie’s post.” 

Taehyung hit his cigarette ash in his diamond ashtray and shrugged his shoulders, “What about it?”

“I know you guys were seeing each other-”

“Her pussy was good.”

Jungkook rolled his eyes and shook his head, “You literally saw her for four months straight and wouldn’t call your other girls. That means you liked her.” 

“Why would I like her? I’m Kim Taehyung, I don’t fall in love with basic girls.”

“Sometimes I wish a girl would slap you for your attitude.” 

Taehyung shrugged his shoulders and leaned back against his leather couch, “Would love to see it happen.” 

Jungkook’s phone buzzed in his pocket and he took his phone out, “I have to go.”

“Go to your girlfriend you simp.” 

“At least someone likes me for me and not just for my money.”

Taehyung scoffed at this and continued to smoke with annoyance, “How can you stick to one pussy?”

Jungkook let out a laugh and stood up from the couch, “When you find the right person, nothing else matters.” 

“Whatever dude.” 

Jungkook went to leave and bowed to Taehyung's mother who was coming into the living room, “Ah, Kook, you're going home already?”

Jungkook bowed and gave her a sheepish smile, “My girlfriend needs me.” 

Taehyung’s mother sighed and placed a hand on her cheek as she glanced at her son with a frown, “I wish my son had a girlfriend. I need to tell him the good news.” 

“The good news?”

Taehyung’s mother nodded her head happily, “I went to see a fortune teller today, she told me that Taehyung will fall in love in two months.” 

Jungkook glanced at Taehyung and then back at his mother, “Taehyung? Your son will fall in love with someone?”

“Isn’t that exciting!? My son falling in love, what more can I want?”

“Taehyung...falling in love. I have to go, it was nice seeing you, Mrs. Kim.” 

“Bye Kook, be safe.” 

Taehyung’s mom smiled at her son and walked towards him with her heels clicking away. Taehyung quickly put his cigarette out and sat up straighter, “Mom?” 

“My Tae, I have good news.”

Taehyung raised his eyebrow at his mother, “This can’t be good, what’s the news.”

“A fortune teller told me that you would fall in love with someone in two months. Isn’t that good news?” 

“You believe in that? Mom really?”

His mom nodded her head and glanced through the living room windows, “With a son like you, I have to believe in that.” 

“What is that supposed to mean!?” 

“You know what it means.” 

“Mom, just let me live my life the way I want.”

His mom sighed and stood up with a little smirk on her lips, “Well hurry up because in six weeks grandma is coming over and I told her you had a girlfriend.” 

“You did what? Mom, you know I don’t have a girlfriend.”

She shrugged her shoulders and nodded her head, “Figure it out. Also, no more smoking, or I will have your father do something about it.” 

He swallowed his spit nervously, “Please don’t.”

“Good, let’s go have dinner.” 

He watched her leave and fell back into the couch and stared at the ceiling, “What the fuck am I going to do?” 

Kim Taehyung, is the second richest student at Seoul University. Everyone knows who he is. He had loving parents and siblings who were perfect. Being part of the legendary seven, it was a blessing and a curse. Everyone knows your business, even those who you don’t want to know. Taehyung hates relationships because what’s the point of being in one when you're in college? You're supposed to have fun and go to school. Why put love on top of the stress of school? Love is just complicated and a headache for him. It will always be like that. Always. 

.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･｡

Seungkwan and Y/N walked down the hallway talking to one another about random things. It wasn’t until she heard someone running towards her. She turned around to see her other friend running towards her with a wide smile, Hwang Eunbi, “Y/N! I have something to tell you!” 

She smiled at the girl and grabbed her hand with ease, “What is it?” 

“I got a note from Kevin and he told me that Yunho has a crush on you!”

Y/N rolled her eyes and dropped her hand, “Not this again. Stop trying to set me up with people.”

Eunbi frowned and glanced at Seungkwan, “Did you tell her?”

“Tell me what?”

Seungkwan let out a nervous laugh and turned towards Y/N, “You see...My aunt is having a party next week and I kinda told her...I told her that you had a boyfriend because she kept asking about you and I lied because she wouldn’t leave me alone. I’m sorry and I know you hate relationships but I panicked and she was talking bad about you-”

“Seungkwan, relax.”

Seungkwan raised his eyebrow and glanced at Eunbi, “You're not mad?” 

“I know your aunt so I know how you act around her.” 

“I’m sorry...I just hate how she talks about you. It’s not fair.”

Y/N shrugged her shoulders and put her hands in her pockets, “Like I give a shit what she says. She’s already on her fourth husband so maybe she should take her own love advice.” 

Eunbi laughed at this and wrapped her arm around her neck, “But you should ask Yunho to be your fake boyfriend to show his aunt up.” 

“Why would I care? Also, I wouldn’t do that to Yunho because if he has feelings for me then asking him to be my fake boyfriend would be morally wrong.”

Seungkwan smirked at her, “To wipe off that look she always has. You can ask someone else then.”

“That’s tempting but I don’t really care what she thinks about me. Let’s go to lunch before we have to run to class.”

Seungkwan and Eunbi watched her leave with frowns on their faces. Eunbi turned towards Seungkwan, “What are we going to do?” 

“I don’t want my aunt to harass her at the party.”  

Eunbi's eyes became brighter with an idea that was going to change everything and grabbed Seungkwan’s arm, “I have an idea.” 

“Is Y/N going to kill us?” 

“Maybe but your aunt will be defeated.”

“Let’s do it.” 

Y/N walked into the lunch court with her hands in her pocket. There was a group of girls that had a crush on her because of how cool she was. Y/N’s personality was very laid back and unlike her best friends, she didn’t care about anyone’s opinions. When she got made fun of her mom, she told people to fuck off. She didn’t see a point in fighting with people who only listen to rumors. 

She got her usual sandwich and looked at the usual table they always sat at. She dropped her backpack and Seungkwan jumped at the sound, “Why do you always do that?”

“Because it scares you.” 

“Y/NNNN!” 

“Seokmin, you can use your normal voice.”

She felt an arm around her shoulders and that laugh she came to know, “Where’s the fun in that?”  Seokmin removed his arm and sat next to Y/N, “What’s new?”

Eunbi leaned forward with a little smirk, “Do you want the tea about everything you missed?”

“You know me so well.” 

Seungkwan pulled out his phone as Y/N ate her sandwich ignoring the whole gossip talk. Seungkwan handed his phone to him with excitement, “Apparently, Taehyung is looking for a girlfriend.” 

“Kim Taehyung?” 

Eunbi took a sip of her banana milk and nodded her head, “I know right!? Out of everyone, he is the last person I would think would want a relationship.” 

“Especially since he was in love with Jennie.” 

Seokmin nodded his head and glanced at Y/N, “What do you think, Y/N.”

She placed her sandwich down and shrugged her shoulders, “Why should I care?” 

Seungkwan frowned and took the phone from Seokmin, “You're no fun.” 

“It’s not my life and I don’t really care for him so what’s the point?” 

Eunbi laughed at this and slammed her drink dramatically, “Talking shit about someone is the fundamental of being a college student. It is our duty to fulfill it.” 

“I thought our duty was getting good grades.”

“That’s second.” 

Y/N raised her eyebrow and nodded her head, “Sure, Seokmin are you free next week?” 

“I have a track meeting and then I have a meeting with a CEO my dad set up.” 

Y/N frowned at this and nodded her head, “Boring. I’m going to be at this party all by myself.”

Seungkwan pouted at this and looked at Y/N, “I’m going to be there too.” 

“Trying to show off to your aunt which means I’m going to be left alone.”

“I don’t show off...”

“You do.”

“You didn’t have to answer all at the same time.” 

Taehyung sat down with annoyance and Jimin raised his eyebrow at this, “What’s wrong?” 

“My mom.”

Hoseok raised his eyebrow at this and chuckled, “Your mom is an angel.” 

“She can be but she can be a devil.” 

Namjoon rolled his eyes and took a bite of his food, “What did she do?” 

“A fortune-teller told her that I would fall in love in two months, so she told my grandma I have a girlfriend.” 

Seokjin let out a laugh and covered his mouth, “That’s unfortunate for you.”

“Shut up, at least I have a choice in my wife.”

“Someone is on their period.” 

Taehyung sighed and started playing with his rice, “I’m sorry. I just don’t want to see my grandma sad when she sees me with no girlfriend.”

“You can always have a fake girlfriend.”

Taehyung glanced at Yoongi and thought about it, “I didn’t think of that...”

Jungkook let out a laugh and leaned to his side kissing Bora on her cheek, “Watching you struggle is funny.” 

Bora hit his thigh and shook her head at her boyfriend. She glanced at Taehyung with a small smile, “There’s dating apps. You can always use that and put in a bio you need a fake girlfriend.” 

“I guess I can do that.” 

Jimin nodded his head and clapped his hands, “See it’s that easy. Bora, did you see you were an article by Pen.” 

Bora frowned at this and nodded her head, “I saw this and I made the decision to ignore it. It’s upsetting to know that people know the insides of my relationship and to make me look like a charity case but I know the truth.” 

Jungkook nodded his head and placed his hand on her thigh, “It’s just meaningless gossip.” 

“But gossip is so fun.”

Y/N walked down the hall with Eunbi getting ready for their next class. As they walked down the hall, Taehyung and Jimin were going the opposite way. Taehyung walked past Y/N and he glanced down at her. He raised his eyebrow when she didn’t even give him a second glance. He stood still while Jimin stood there in confusion, “What?” 

He stared at Y/N not knowing anything about her, “Nothing...nothing.” 

.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･

Eunbi and Seungkwan sat in Y/N’s bedroom as they set up a dating profile for their friend. Y/N went to go pick up food and they thought this was the perfect time to make it. Eunbi snatched the phone out of Seungkwan’s hand and shook her head, “God, that’s not a good picture of her. Use the one when we went to your friend's party. She had that purple dress.” 

“This isn’t real Eunbi. We’re just doing this so she can have a fake boyfriend.”

“You can at least treat it like it’s real. There’s better pictures of her and you should use them. She needs someone hot.” 

Seungkwan raised his eyebrow at this and shook his head, “Is this for her or for you?” 

“Both.”

Y/N entered her house, throwing the keys in the bowl. Y/N didn’t live with her mother and she thanked god for that. She couldn’t hear her mother going on and on about her future. It was annoying. She took her shoes off and went towards her cat, Socks. She walked towards her bedroom and opened the door, “I got the sandwiches.” She jumped when she heard a loud bang and raised her eyebrow when she saw Eunbi’s phone on the floor, “What the hell?” 

“We were looking at Pen’s new post and you scared us.” 

She nodded her head and shrugged her shoulders, “That’s what you get for being involved in  other people’s lives.” 

Seungkwan glanced at Eunbi and let out a nervous laugh, “Yeah...” 

Eunbi grabbed her phone and smiled when saw the profile get uploaded, “Everything always turns out good.” 

Taehyung was in his bedroom on his phone. He was scrolling through Instagram and he stopped on Seungkwan’s post. He’s met him once or twice but he was pretty cool. He zoomed in on the picture and saw the girl he saw in the hallway. He thought her name was Y/N but he wasn’t sure. There were no tags on the picture. He clicked on Seungkwan’s icon and saw multiple posts with her and he finally found one that had tags with her username. He clicked on her profile and was looking through her pictures. 

“What are you looking at?”

He jumped and looked to see Jimin with his arms crossed, “Nothing.”

“Really? I saw that smile you have when you see someone hot. Show me.”

“Get lost shorty.” 

The next day, Y/N was by herself in the library studying for an upcoming test. It wasn’t until she heard one of the chair moves. She looked up from her book and raised her eyebrow when saw Jimin sitting there with a smile on his face. She took off her headphones and tilted her head, “Can I help you?” 

“Are you Y/N?” 

“Why?” 

Jimin shrugged his shoulders and leaned forward making her pull back, “He usually doesn’t like...I’m Jimin.”

She nodded her head and put her headphones back in, “That’s cool. Are you studying or just bothering me?” 

He let out a small chuckle and nodded his head, “Can you do something for me?” 

“Oh god...what?” 

“It’s for a friend.” 

Taehyung entered the library with a confused look. Jimin doesn’t go to the library, why does he want to meet in the library? It was weird. He continued his way through the silence but froze when he saw who Jimin was talking to, “That little fucker...” Taehyung made his way towards Jimin with haste. He knew Jimin wouldn’t leave this alone after last night, he never listened to him. 

“You like Y/N? Seungkwan’s friend? 

Taehyung rolled his eyes and stood up from his bed with annoyance. He tried snatching his phone back but somehow Jimin was faster than him, “I don’t like her. I just saw her in the hallway and thought she was cute.” 

“Interesting.” 

“You want me to be Taehyung’s fake girlfriend?” 

Taehyung stopped in his tracks and his mouth dropped, “Jimin, what the hell are you doing?” 

Jimin looked over his shoulders and gave his friend a smirk, “Helping out your situation.”

Taehyung glanced at Y/N who was looking at them with an annoyed look, “I’m not saying yes but I want to hear the reasoning.” 

She was looking straight at Taehyung and he felt nervous under her stare, “I saw you on Instagram...I just thought you were cute and Jimin took that into his own hands.” 

She nodded her head and picked up her stuff, “I kinda figured. The answer is no and leave me alone.” 

Taehyung watched her leave and his mouth was wide, “Did she just reject me?” 

“Technically she rejected me.” 

“Jimin, shut up. She just rejected me, what the hell?” 

Jimin let out a laugh and leaned back in his chair, “Not everyone has to like you.” 

Y/N walked down the stairs but was stopped when she felt a tap on her shoulders. She turned around to see a panting Taehyung and she raised her eyebrow at this, “Dude, what?” 

“Please be my fake girlfriend.” 

“Huh? I just said-”

“I know you said no but I-I just need someone. Please.”

She leaned against the railing and a small smirk appeared, “What do I get?” 

“What do you want?” 

“You don’t have an offer?” 

Taehyung let out an irritated sigh and looked down at his shoes for a second. Y/N couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. He looked back up and shrugged his shoulders, “Just tell me what you want?” 

“I need you to be my fake boyfriend for this party and I would also like tickets to Japan for a vacation. I deserve it after being with you.” 

“You want a vacation? Do you think being my fake girlfriend would be that-”

“Yes, because it's you.”

Taehyung tilted his head and crossed his arms over his chest, “What do you mean by that?” 

“You sleep with everyone and break girls' hearts. Do I need to draw a picture for you?” 

“You're very blunt.”

“It’s obvious you only have yes men. If you don’t want to give me that ticket to Japan and a nice hotel, bye I have to go study and stop following myself.”

Taehyung rolled his eyes and nodded his head, “Fine, I’ll give you a trip. How many tickets?” 

“Three.” 

“Fine but starting now you're my girlfriend.” 

She cringed at the word and scoffed at this, “Don’t ever call me your girlfriend. Fake or not, I don’t want to associate that with me.” 

“Being someone’s girlfriend? Relationships are fun.”

“How do you know that? Anyways, bye.” 

She started walking away and Taehyung grabbed her wrist, “Do we have a deal?” 

“We have a deal. Now let me go.” 

He let her go and put his hands in his pockets nervously, “Sorry. Can we meet up Friday at Supernova’s?” 

“Sure.”

He watched her leave and knew he wanted to prove something to her. He was going to prove that he could be a great boyfriend and prove her wrong about relationships. He wanted to change her view of him and he wasn’t sure why it bothered him so much that she saw him like that. It made him feel uneasy. He barely knew her. Why should he care? 

Y/N took a sip of her water and stared at Taehyung who was nervously playing with his fries. It’s been quiet for five minutes and she wasn’t going to be the first person to say anything but this was getting ridiculous. She took out her phone and went to send a text to Seungkwan but stopped when Taehyung let out a small cough, “So...girlfriend.”

“My name is Y/N, use it.” 

He nodded his head, “Sorry, Y/N. We have to act like a couple in front of people so stop looking at me like I’m the devil.” 

“It’s really hard to ignore the horns.” 

He let out a chuckle and shook his head, “Can we be friends at least? It would make it easier.” 

Last week, Y/N found herself in Seungkwan’s bedroom listening to him talking about the person in front of her. She heard everything from her best friend’s mouth. Rumors are rumors and she knew this. This was her philosophy and it would be hypocritical of her to listen to the rumors. She had no idea how to deal with the playboy but she was willing to take a chance, “Friends...Sure.” 

She watched a boxy smile appear on his face and she noted how bright his eyes looked. There was a touch of mystery behind those brown irises. It was interesting to see how bright they can be. She took a sip of her water and took her phone out, “I have to go, Eunbi needs my help.” 

He watched her lick her lips and his eyes couldn’t leave them. The feeling that was erupting was something he never felt. It was annoying. He shook his head and nodded his head, “Since we're friends, can I have your number?” 

“I suppose since we're friends. Don’t give it out to anyone.” 

Don’t worry about that. I wouldn’t want anyone else having it, “I won’t. Trust me.” 

She showed her phone to him and he glanced at the numbers. His eyes slowly went towards her face and he noted how the sun highlighted her face. It showcased her eye color perfectly while showing off her lips. He let out a small cough and sent her a quick message. She smiled at this and put her phone away, “Since we're friends, you should come to Seungkwan’s game tomorrow.” 

“To-Tomorrow?” 

She nodded her head and slid out of the booth, “Since we have to fake being together, it would make sense for you to be with me there. He is my best friend. Remember?” 

“Yes, best friend. Do you want me to pick you up?” 

She stood by the table and nodded her head, “Nothing too fancy. We don’t want girls flocking to you. I’ll see you tomorrow, Taehyung.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Y/N.” 

He watched her leave the cafe and he continued to do so through the glass. He watched the plaid shirt around her waist sway with each step she took. He never noticed how good her legs looked in jeans. There was also something about the way she walked, it was filled with confidence. He cracked his neck and look down at his fries, What the fuck? 

“Eunbi, what’s wrong?” 

Y/N opened her bedroom to see Eunbi sitting there with a smile, “I have good news.” 

“I also have news but you go first.” 

Eunbi sat up with her phone in her hands. She turned the phone to show her a picture of Taehyung causing Y/N to raise her eyebrow, “What?” 

“He swiped for you. He’s interested in you.” 

Y/N let out a laugh and took the phone out of her hand, “You signed me up for a dating app?” 

“It worked! What's your good news?” 

“Taehyung is my fake boyfriend.” 

Eunbi stared at her with pure shock and her mouth dropped, “Kim Taehyung? The famous-”

“Yes, he needed a fake girlfriend so it worked out.” 

“Your mom was-”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” 

Y/N waited outside her building and she was scrolling on her phone. Taehyung said he would be coming in ten minutes and knowing he was rich (his car would be fast). She hated making people wait. She heard the gates open and she looked up to be pleasantly surprised to see a dark blue Nissan pulling up to her. The window came down to show off Taehyung wearing sunglasses and his boxy smile, “What?” 

“I wasn’t expecting a Nissan...I was expecting that BMW that everyone talks about.” 

He shrugged his shoulders, “Well not everyone knows I have a Nissan.”

“Does that make me special?” 

“You are special.”

They made eye contact and Y/N felt her chest feel lighter at the comment. Compliments come and go but this one stayed with her. It stayed with her longer than it should. She let out a small laugh and nodded her head, “All ready to see Seungkwan play?”

“Yes, I am. Let me get to the door.”

She rolled her eyes as she watched Taehyung quickly unbuckle himself and rush to open her side. She let out a small laugh and bowed to him, “Thank you for being a gentleman.”

“Anything for my lady.” 

The drive was pleasant. There wasn’t a lot of talking but it didn’t bother her too much. The jazz music played in the background as she watched nature out her window. Every now and then, Taehyung would glance at her through his mirror and would smile to himself. A smile that he didn’t even realize was on his face.

“Seungkwan!” 

Seungkwan turned around with a smile but it quickly changed into a confused one when he saw Taehyung standing next to her, “H-Hey, thanks for coming?” 

Y/N glanced at Taehyung and chuckled at Seungkwan’s nervousness, “This is my plus one that I told you about.”

Seungkwan stared at him with shock and stuck his out to shake, “I’m Seungkwan-”

“I know who you are. No need to introduce yourself as a star badminton player.”

Y/N watched Seungkwan’s face blush and she smiled with pride, “Seungkwan is a star on the court. He needs to be reminded by others and not just his friends.” 

“Y/N...”

She heard his coach and she smiled at him, “Good luck.” 

Taehyung smiled at him and patted his back gently, “Good luck.”

“Thanks, I'll see you later.” 

Y/N watched him run off and she turned toward Taehyung with a smile, “Thank you.”

“For?”

“Boosting up his confidence. He doesn’t believe me when I say it.” 

Taehyung shrugged his shoulders at this, “He’s your best friend. I’ll show him my support.”

“Well, it meant a lot to me. Thank you.” 

They walked towards the stands and Taehyung glanced down to see their fingers touching. He wanted to intertwine their fingers together but he had to stop himself. He notices all the moles along her arm and the little cuts that tell a story. A story that he wanted to know. There was something about Y/N that he wanted to know so desperately. It was like a man that needed water. He glanced up to her face and the moles decorated her face like a castle with flowers. It was a sight to be seen. She was something he has never seen before and he wanted to capture all the different expressions she has. This was a feeling he has never had before and it was making him feel sick. 

Y/N sat down with Taehyung following. She glanced at him and pulled out a bag of Skittles, “Want some?”

He glanced down at the candy and then back at her with a mischievous look, “You can get in trouble with that?” 

She tilted her head at him with a smirk, “Are you going to tell on me?” 

“Maybe I should so you can be taught a lesson.” 

She rolled her eyes and popped a red skittle in her mouth, “No fun.”

“Don’t worry I also brought some snacks. Do you like sea salt chips?” 

“I should tell you. You do know the best chips are the ones in the green bag?”

Taehyung let out a laugh and shook his head, “Of course you like spicy chips. It matches your personality.”   

“Are you saying I'm spicy? 

“It comes in waves, a person with boldness with different levels that captures the whole room. With that fiery attitude and that fire in their eyes. A spicy personality to make it known who you are. It’s admirable.” 

She let out a laugh and shook her head, “You're so weird...a good weird though.” 

“Does that mean your opinion of me has changed?” 

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.” 

.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･

It’s been a week and every day, Y/N and Taehyung would spend time together to get to know each other. Every night, Taehyung would drive her to the river and they would just talk as the stars listened. Every morning, Y/N would make him breakfast and they would sit in the park near school listening to jazz. There were quiet moments but it didn’t feel uncomfortable if Taehyung accepted it. He didn’t get a lot of those in his normal life. Y/N relished in their quiet moments because it taught her more about Taehyung than his words could ever do. 

Today was Seungkwan's Aunt's party and it was their first event to act like a couple. She was nervous that everyone was going to know she was lying. A piece of her wanted to run away and she never wants to run away. She always faced challenges head first but this was different. Seungkwan’s aunt loved to bring up the fact that her father left her. It was known throughout the families that Y/N was basically parentless and they would throw it at her whenever they could. Her mother made her rich but she also barely took care of the girl, she had to be her own parent. When people use the past to insult you in the future, it hurts more when it isn’t your fault. 

She stared at herself with doubt. She was dressed in a light blue ballerina dress that had floral beadwork all around. When she turned the skirt would shine under the light and it made her feel seen. She put her hair up in a high bun with pearl earrings when she heard a knock at the door. She glanced at it and felt comfort knowing who it was. She carefully made her way with her heels clicking away on her floor and she opened it with a smile, “You're early.” 

Taehyung shrugged his shoulders and passed her flowers, “I was too excited to get you these.” 

She glanced down at the red tulips and smiled to herself, “Red tulips? Is there a reason?” 

Taehyung shrugged and leaned against the doorframe, “It’s a secret.” 

“We’re keeping secrets now? Come in.” He walked in and his eyes drifted to the delicate fabric on her body. The dress showed off her collarbones and the way she looked so elegant. It was something he wasn’t used to from her. She set the tulips down on her coffee table and glanced at Taehyung, “What?” 

“Come here, please.” She gave him a raised eyebrow but did what he asked. He gently grabbed the hand and smiled at her, “Twirl for me.” 

She did a twirl and when came back to face him, she asked, “Do you like it?” 

“Like it, I love it.”

“You flatter me.”

“You deserve it.”

She smiled at this and glanced down at their fingers and let out a small cough. She gently removed her fingers and went to her kitchen ignoring her heart, “Do you want some water?” 

“That would be great.” 

The building was always grand. Seungkwan’s aunt always did this for him (even though he hated it). She claimed she wanted to show off her nephew's talents but in reality, it was to network. It was almost always to network for her company and she was just using Seungkwan as a cover-up. Seungkwan’s parents never noticed because they were too kind. Far too kind to be related to that witch. 

They entered the building and everyone was dressed in their nice clothing. Businessmen with their ties a little too tight and wives that had blood-red lipstick smirking at you to feel small. It was like this every year. There was something about the room that made the confidence that Y/N usually had been completely wiped away.  

“Are you okay, Y/N?”

She turned towards Taehyung and gave him a fake smile, “I’m okay...well I’m going to be. You’re good company. 

Taehyung could sense that Y/N wasn’t feeling like herself. He intertwined their fingers together and rubbed her knuckles gently, “I’ll be here for you okay.”

“O-Okay.”

She quickly finds Seungkwan and Eunbi with Taehyung by her side. She gave them hugs and relief was written on her face, “You look beautiful, Y/N.”

“Thank you Seungkwan. You look good too.” 

“Well if it isn’t L/N.” 

Y/N felt that shiver and she slowly turned around to see Seungkwan’s aunt looking her up and down. Disapproval written all over her face, “Good-”

“I see you brought someone for once.” 

Y/N glanced at Taehyung and nodded her head, “I’m sorry for the late-”

“I’m shocked you can get someone as good-looking as him. Especially when you're fatherless. It's shocking.” 

Taehyung glared at the older woman and walked to be in front of Y/N with annoyance on his face, “Please don’t talk about my girlfriend like that when I am present. If you're going to insult one of us then insult me for I picked the wrong socks for the occasion.” 

Y/N stared at him with wide eyes not knowing what to say but she felt her heartbeat louder. Seungkwan’s aunt tilted her head at him and studied his face, “Kim Taehyung, from the Kim family. It’s an honor to meet you.”

“I wish I could say the same. You insulted my girlfriend and now you’re trying to kiss my feet. Do you have no shame?” 

Seungkwan’s aunt glanced down at her shoes and cleared her throat, “Is your father here? I would love to talk to him.”

“He is not but I am. The answer will be no. No matter what question you ask, it will be no. Y/N, let’s have a dance.” 

Taehyung grabbed her wrist and they quickly made their way to the middle of the dancefloor. He wrapped his arm around her waist and they started to dance with the delicate strings filling the air. Y/N was in a state of shock at what just happened and Taehyung could sense that, “No one deserves that treatment.” 

She looked at his face and shook her head, “It was said that it was my fault my father left...maybe I do deserve it.” 

“It was his fault. He is not a man but a child. You deserve the world and I won’t let an old hag destroy that.”

He brought her in closer and she couldn’t help but smile, “You're passionate.” 

“When it comes to you, yes.” 

She let out a small laugh and looked away from his brown eyes, “Don’t look at me like that.” 

“Like what?” 

She glanced back and they continued to stare, “I’m not sure but stop it.”

“I can’t help it. I’m just looking at you.” 

After two more dances, Taehyung took her out to the garden and they stood next to each other with flowers around. The moon shone in the water fountain as they sat on the white stone. Y/N’s fingertips gently touched the water and smiled, “You know this is the first time I had fun at Seungkwan's aunt’s party.” 

“Did I do it justice?” 

“You did. I actually danced usually I just stayed in the back avoiding her but tonight I actually danced. It felt nice.” 

He smiled and picked up a rose. He placed it in her lap and glanced at the stars, “I’m glad. Would you like to dance with me now?”

She glanced down at the rose and then back at him, “There’s no music. How will we dance?” 

“We don’t need music to dance. We have each other to do so.” 

She placed the rose on the stone and slowly stood up with Taehyung. He smiled at her and they slowly started dancing under the stars. His hand was on her waist as she avoided his eyes. There was something there but she couldn’t figure it out. The feeling in her chest was becoming too strong and she wanted to run away but it was as if Taehyung knew this, so he held on to her tighter. Their eyes met and he couldn’t help smiling and she returned it. It felt good to smile and it also made her sick. 

“Mom, why are you here?” 

Y/N was in her living room reading up for her test when there was a knock at the door. She was expecting Seungkwan or Eunbi but there she was with her mom. It’s been two weeks since the party so she expected them to come forward with some tea. Y/N sat on the couch with an annoyed look as her mother sat there with a smudged look, “Everything's coming together.” 

“What is?” 

“You're falling in love, can’t you see it.”

Y/N frowned at this and stood up, “I think it's time for you to go.” 

“Falling in love can be beautiful. Just let it happen.” 

“Are you trying to be my mother? Now? Where was this when I was younger?” 

Y/N’s mother frowned at this and stood up, “I’m trying to give you advice. Falling in love can change the world.” 

“Then why did dad leave? You give love advice to everyone but you can’t even follow it.” 

“I told your father to leave because he wanted nothing to do with me.”

Y/N frowned at this and stared at her mother in shock, “What about me? I’m his daughter. Did he not want me?” 

“I kept you-”

“You kept him away from me. Didn’t you?” The silence in the room made it clear to Y/N and she nodded her head at this, “I think it’s time for you to go.” 

“Just fall in love, Y/N.”

Y/N opened the door and she was met with those brown eyes, “Taehyung? What are you doing here?” 

“I came to visit you. I had to tell you something...” 

“Are you Kim Taehyung? I told your mother that you were going to fall in love this month. How is it going?” 

Y/N’s mother pushed past her and looked at Taehyung with a smile, “Your mother was excited to know her son was going to fall in love.” 

Taehyung glanced at her and then back at Y/N, “Y/N, who is this?” 

“This is my mother....”

Taehyung looked at her mother and then back at her, “Your mother is a fortune teller...the fortune teller that told my mother I would fall in love, and then I met you a month later...” 

Y/N scoffed at this and looked at Taehyung, “Are you saying I set this up?” 

Taehyung's eyes widened at this and shook his head, “That’s not what I’m saying. In fact the opposite.” 

“What do you mean?” 

“Y/N, I’m in love with you.” 

Y/N stared at Taehyung with a shocked face and shook her head, “You can’t love a person like me...I have nothing. My mother and father both left me. What do I have to offer?” 

“You offer me so much that I can’t even put it into words.” 

“Y/N, this is love.” 

Y/N shook her head and stared at her mother with anger, “You need to go. I can’t do this.” 

“He just told you he love-”

“GO. NOW.” 

Y/N watched her mother leave and then she glanced at Taehyung with a frown as tears started to form. Taehyung stood his ground and looked at her, “Y/N...I’m in love with you. You are the stars at night that keep the moon company. You are forever on my mind. When the sun makes its way or even when the moon appears, you always appear. I crave sleep because I know I can always see you. Y/N-”

“Tae...I simply can’t”

Taehyung glanced at his shoes and then back at her, “Is it because you won’t let yourself feel love?”

 “I can’t do this right-”

“Y/N, please. Give me a chance.” 

She stared at him and a single tear fell, “Don’t do this to me.”

“Y/N, I want you. In the short amount of time that I have been with you, I have learned so much. Please Y/N. We can be scared together.” 

Y/N bit her lip and more tears came down, “Please...” 

Taehyung nodded his head and took a step back, “I’ll be waiting for you...” 

She watched him leave and quickly closed the door. She leaned against the wood and fell to the floor with tears coming down. Her mind is telling her to focus on her school but her heart wants Taehyung. It only wants him...but she is so scared to be in love. She can’t be left alone again.  

.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*･

Sometimes silence can be the greatest enemy. Y/N sat on her bed as she stared outside her window. The day was beautiful, not a cloud to be seen but her heart felt clouded. The look on Taehyung’s face was sketched into her heart and it made her feel sick. Was she making the right decision? 

There was a knock at the door and she slowly got up from her bed. Not even caring to look through the peephole to see who it was, she opened the door. She let out a deep sigh and leaned against the door frame, “Mother now is not the time.”

“This is the time. You need me.” 

Y/N glanced at her shoes and shook her head, “You won’t listen to me. Come in.” 

They both sat on her couch while Y/N stared at the wall with an emotionless stare. While her mother looked at her with concern, “Y/N, the truth about your father...”

“Mom, I don’t think I want to hear it.”

“Please.”

Y/N looked up to see her mom’s face twist into a serious face and she nodded her head, “Okay...”

“Your father never loved me. He made that very clear. He just picked me because he knew I was the easiest to marry. When I became pregnant with you it was the happiest day of my life but he was the opposite. He wanted a son and I was afraid that he would...he would hurt you. He visited and acted like your dad until you were six, I had enough. It wasn’t fair for you. I told him to leave and never come back...and that’s what he did.”

Y/N stared at her mother with wide eyes and guilt creeping up her throat, “Why did you let me hate you for so long?”

“I felt like I deserved it. I made you think your father loved when in reality he never loved you....I’m so sorry.”

“No mom, I’m sorry.” 

Her mom stood up and sat next to her grabbing her hands. She put her hands into her lap and smiled, “When I saw that my daughter was going to fall in love, I felt so happy.” 

“I don’t think it's going to work out..” 

“Nonsense, do you see how he looked at you?” 

Y/N glanced up at her mother and shook her head, “No...I didn’t.”

“He looked at you as if you were his summer sky after a long winter. He loves you.”

“I can’t be capable of that.”

“Why?”

“I’m so stubborn...I put my foot down so fast that I can’t even think. I’m...I’m scared to love him. Not because he’s a bad man, the opposite really. He’s a great man. It’s rare to find that...I’m broken and I’ve been left alone for so long. Why would anyone love something broken? I couldn’t even get my own father to love me? How could I hold something so delicate?” 

Y/N’s mom frowned at this and pushed hair behind her hair from her forehead, “That’s what love is. You take that chance and the person you chose to love makes a beautiful painting. Even through the hard times, the painting gets more colors. You deserve to be loved and cherished. Don’t let fear hold you back. Be in love, Y/N.” 

Y/N looked away with a tear escaping and she let out a sour laugh, “Do you think he would want me still?” 

“I know he does?” 

“Why because you're a fortune teller?”

“No, because I’m your mother. For once in your life, do something for yourself.” 

After the conversation with her mother, Y/N ran to Eunbi’s house not caring what shoes she had on. She knocked on the door to see Eunbi and Seungkwan looking at her with curious eyes, “Are you okay, you haven’t called us?”

Y/N nodded her head, “I need help to get ready for a party...I need to tell Taehyung something important.”  

Seungkwan raised his eyebrow, “What is it?”

“That I love him...I’m still scared but I want to be scared with him. I want him...I want him so bad that I-I can’t even explain it. I need help.” 

Seungkwan smiled at this and nodded his head, “I’m so happy you finally figured it out...Let’s get you ready.” 

Eunbi opened the door wider and clapped her hands, “You need to wear lavender.” 

“Why?”

“Taehyung loves lavender...duh.”

Taehyung stood next to Jimin as he stared down at his shoes with an emotionless face. Jimin sighed and nudged his shoulder, “Think of the positive...you get to see your grandma.” 

“I have missed her. I wish she could’ve met Y/N.” 

Jimin rubbed his shoulders gently and gave him a soft smile, “Breakups are hard. I should know.” 

“This wasn’t even a breakup. It was me finally meeting the right person but it never goes my way.” 

The door opened and Taehyung’s mother came in with a smile, “The party is starting. Your grandma is excited to see you.” 

Taehyung nodded his head, “I’m excited to see her as well.” 

His mother frowned and walked towards him to fix his tie. She fixed his hair and smiled, “Just remember the night has just begun.”  

“Mom, she’s not coming...”

“You don’t know that to be true. So, just wait.” 

Taehyung and Jimin made their way downstairs. His grandma was talking to a small group of people and hearing her laugh made him smile. Ever since his grandpa passed away it was rare to hear that laugh. He continued to walk towards her but he stopped in his tracks when he heard a familiar voice. He ignored Jimin’s voice and made his way through the group of people. He stood there frozen when he saw her. 

Y/N turned towards him and gave him a gentle wave, “I didn’t want you to wait any longer....” 

Taehyung glanced at his grandma who gave him an approved smile, “Grandma, I’m going to take Y/N.”

“Go right ahead.” 

Taehyung’s grandma watched with a smile on her face. She turned towards her daughter and smiled, “Is she the one?”

Taehyung’s mom smiled and nodded her head, “I believe so.” 

“I hope he is happy.” 

Jimin walked towards them with a wine glass in his hand, “I know he is.” 

Taehyung grabbed her wrist and made their way to the library where no one would be. He touched his finger to her chin as the light detailed out her face. Her eyes held anticipation and her lips were the perfect shape. He was glad no one noticed them. He smiled and this smile was as wide as the Cheshire cat. 

“Taehyung...” She whispered and the softness of her voice made him want to fall to his knees.

He leaned in with their foreheads together, “Yes?” 

“I-I love you...”

He smiled at this and brought his lips to hers, the gentleness that he wanted to showcase was taken over with hunger. He kissed her with a passion that he didn’t even know he had. This wasn’t about sex, this was about love. Love in its purest form. 

“Taehyung?” Y/N gasped as he was gently pushing her down onto the sofa. He was kissing her jaw and then her neck, “Taehy-” 

He smiled to himself when he nipped her earlobe and removed himself from her to stare down at her, “Yes?” 

“I just-”

He kissed her again with the desire that was harboring in his chest. His hands went under the hem of her dress and looked back up at her, “Yes, my love?” 

“Nothing. Continue.” 

He pressed his hips against her and let the moon shine through the windows blush at the sight. He slid his hand over the soft skin of her thigh and then towards her stomach, “Don’t leave me.” 

“I would never leave you. I will stand by you from now on.” 

Taehyung smiled at this and leaned forward kissing her neck. His large hands cups her face as his thumb traced her jawline. He pressed his lips to hers as he slipped his tongue between their lips. She moaned into the kiss digging her fingers into his suit jacket. His warm lips were new but somehow they felt so familiar, “We can’t take off our clothes...someone can walk in.”

He frowned at this and kissed her forehead, “I’ll make it quick then. I’ll take you back to my apartment and show you properly.” 

“Who said I’ll go home with you?” 

He rolled his eyes and unbuckled his belt in record time. He unzipped his pants and glanced at her, “I love you.”

“I love you too.” 

His fingers toyed around her underwear before pulling it down to her ankles. She bucked her hips forward and he couldn’t help but smirk. He went under her dress skirt and started to place kisses around her clit, sucking it. A breathless moan left her lips as his fingers ran up and down her folds, “Taeee~.” 

“I need to make sure you're ready for me, love.” 

His fingers became coated in her arousal and she felt her body becoming tingly. He pulled away and she frowned at this. He leaned forward placing a kiss on her collarbone, “Don’t look too upset, you're going to come on my cock.” 

He dragged the red tip along her wet folds causing her to whimper at the touch. She was already so sensitive. He switched positions and had her on top making things easier. She gripped onto his shoulders, guiding him into her. “O-Oh, please Tae.” He kissed the side of her head and groaned when she sank down fully. 

The two panted heavily, relishing the moment before he started to move his hip. His mind takes over as he feels her clench at every movement. The sound of skin slapping echoed in the room that would make anyone blush. It wasn’t time to be shy. 

“Look at you, just for me and only for me.” 

He brushed soft kisses across her collarbones, thrusting in and out. His chest is pressed against hers as hands intertwine with each other. He clenched his jaw and leaned down to bring her into a passionate kiss. She pushed him gently and groaned, “Tae, can I come?”

“Yes, you can love.” 

He swiftly thrusts into her and this was it for her. She arched her back and he smirked when he felt her cum go onto his pants. He continued to thrust into her and he kissed the side of her head as she wrapped her arms around his neck, “You did so good for me.” He let out a breathy groan and he couldn’t help himself from coming in her. She moaned at the feeling and they kissed as they moaned into each other's mouths. 

When they pulled away she smiled at him, “I would like to go to your house.”

“Anything for you.” He leaned down and kissed the moles on her wrist.

.*･｡ﾟ☆ﾟ.*

“Taehyung?” 

Taehyung turned around and raised his eyebrow, “Jennie?” 

It was the start of a new semester and something Taehyung wasn’t looking forward to. He was in line to pick up his tea when he felt a tap on his shoulders. He was surprised to see Jennie looking at him as if she was begging him, “You never texted me back.” 

“What? That was like four months ago, I thought that would be clear.” 

Jennie frowned at this and crossed her arms over her chest, “I thought you wanted me. We could always spend time at the pool. I know you liked it there.” 

“Listen, Jennie, I-”

“Babe.”

Jennie turned around to see Y/N smiling at Taehyung. Y/N walked past Jennie and hugged Taehyung. She kissed his cheek and turned towards Jennie with a raised eyebrow, “And you are?” 

“I’m Jennie, who are you?”

Y/N smirked at this and kissed Taehyung’s neck. When she looked back at Jennie she smirked, “I’m his girlfriend.” 

After the party for his grandmother, Taehyung asked Y/N out. It was a beautiful confession, I love you and I’m not used to love but I want to learn with you. I know you're scared of love but I am too. Let’s conquer this fear together. I love you Y/N. How could Y/N say no? Taehyung did keep his promise. He gave the tickets to Japan to her but they went together with his mother. The small vacation was enjoyable. It made Taehyung happy to know his mother loves his girlfriend.

Everyone at school was shocked about him being in a relationship. He understood why. Y/N’s friends were equally shocked because Y/N was so against relationships for the longest of times. It was clear to everyone that they were in love with each other and nothing was going to change that. 

They went to visit Y/N’s mother and he tried his best to keep the peace.

“I can see a wedding in the future and five kids.” 

Y/N rolled their eyes and intertwined her fingers with his, “Mom, no fortune telling. I’m trying to have a good lunch with you for once.” 

“I can’t help it if I see it.” Y/N’s mom leaned forward towards Taehyung and smiled, “You like the name Aria?” 

Taehyung nodded his head slowly, “Yes?” 

“I love that name for my future granddaughter.” 

“MOM!” 

Seungkwan and Eunbi stopped reading Pen’s articles after they saw Y/N’s name. It wasn’t fun anymore when someone you cared about was being talked down to. Y/N was glad they stopped reading the trash. She still didn’t understand how Pen knew some things but she wasn’t going to think too much about it. 

She smiled when she saw Jennie’s face drop when she said this. Jennie looked around her awkwardly and just left the scene. Y/N smiled at this and looked up to Taehyung, “I don’t think she likes me?” 

“Who cares? I love you.”

“And I love you. 

────°˖✧ ✧˖°────────°˖✧ ✧˖°────

Tag List:

@sumzysworld @whoa-jo

[wildestdreamsblog]

When you tried to move on from them

Pairing: Hyung line x Reader

Warnings: Soft Yandere, Cheating, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Attempt at ending one’s life, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: why on earth is this 5kish long? This part is darker than the maknae line (for me at least) precisely for the reason that hyung line would plan before springing into action which makes them more…dangerous. I hope you enjoy this! And for real, read the warnings okay.

Namjoon

You blinked in surprise when you entered the house. You thought it was a nightmare came to life when you saw Namjoon sitting there with your mom. The two of them were chatting and laughing, hot cup of tea on the table.

It was Namjoon who first saw you, his eyes flashing a certain heat before he smiled at you sweetly. “Flower, you’re here!”

You frowned at him before turning to look at your mother who was smiling fondly at the two of you. “He said he wanted to surprise you. Your fiancé is so sweet, darling. Despite his busy schedule, he had it in him to go to our province. What a sweet man,” she cooed at him before tapping his hand.

Fiancé?

“Of course. I wanted to see how my future mother-in-law is doing,” he replied with the sweetest smile on his face that even you were almost fooled. “I worry about your health.”

Your mother laughed sheepishly, “Namjoon, son, you can call me mom. There’s no need for formality.”

“Okay, mom.”

What. The. Fuck?

Your mother excused herself, saying something about making dinner seeing as Namjoon would be staying.

Once she was out of earshot, you marched to him and pulled him outside the house. And he was all too willing to be pulled by you. After all, it had been three months since you started ghosting him after he pleasured you in the studio. It was heartbreaking, really. He woke up without you and hadn’t seen you since then.

He lose it the moment he found out you left.

You were just too intelligent about evading him. He hated that.

Consequently, your intelligence was what also attracted him to you.

He was smiling down at you as you faced him. You looked behind him to see if your mother was anywhere near before completely laying it out on him.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” You hissed, dropping his thick wrist. It was already dark and the only light was from the house and the street light situated outside. At your smaller form, his shadow was tauntingly touching you. He was so tall that you had to tilt your head to meet his intense stare full on. “And what do you mean fiancé?! You know what, I heard intelligent people tend to lose it but I never thought you would! And who said you can visit my mom, Kim Namjoon?! I need you to leave. You know she’s not well and any additional stress would be detrimental for her!”

You were breathing hard when you stopped berating him. Yet, he remained smiling at you, his dimpled cheeks would be considered charming if not for the fucked up thing that he did to you.

“I miss you,” he admitted softly, his eyes taking you in. God, he did miss you. It had been hell without you. You weren’t completely wrong, he did lose it. And he only managed to get his sanity back when he saw you. “Let’s not separate from each other this long again, my flower.”

You rolled your eyes, “I don’t miss you-“

“Don’t say things you don’t mean…you’re not a liar,” he teased as he shook his head a little. “And besides, do you have it in you to tell your mother the truth? Hmm? At her state, are you willing to break her heart?” He taunted you, his hand gently cupping your cheek. “After all, isn’t it her wish to see her only child happy and married?”

Your eyes widened at his implication, at how he carelessly talked about your mother’s health. There were so many truths in what Namjoon said. He had you backed in the corner, but you wouldn’t go down without a fight. “You need to lea-“

“Dinner’s ready!” Your mother shouted, her face relaxed, a rare sight since she started her treatment. It left you no choice but to nod at her assuringly before turning to look at you ex-boyfriend.

“You’re going to excuse yourself. You’re going to say you have a work emergency. You’re going to leave tonight. Do I make myself clear?”

His dark eyes twinkled with delight. “Yes, ma’am.”

You did make yourself clear, but you should have known he was a stubborn man. You were the one for him, and if that was the case, shouldn’t he fight with all his might to stay with you?

“I’m so full. Thank you for the meal,” he said politely, rubbing his stomach with a smile.

“You must have been so tired, Namjoon. Why don’t you stay here tonight?”

“Mom!” You called her in disbelief, your eyes widened at what she suggested.

“What?”

“W-we have no more room. I’m sure he’s needed back in Seoul.”

“No, I’m not. And you’re right, mother. I’m so weary I don’t think I can make it back safely to the city tonight.”

“See? You can sleep in her room.”

“Mom!” Wasn’t she the conservative type?

“It’s fine. He’s your fiancé. He’s practically family by now. If it was up to me, you two would be married by now.”

You were full on glaring at him as he entered your room after your mom bid the two of you good night. Namjoon smiled sweetly at you before putting his bag down. Wasn’t he too ready to stay here with that huge bag of his?

He looked around your small room, his huge frame making your bedroom looked even smaller.

“I thought I told you to leave?”

He nodded before standing in front of you, “Yes, you did.”

“So why didn’t you?”

“I don’t remember agreeing,” he murmured, gently sauntering to you similar to that of a hunter. His deep voice was making you feel things you didn’t want to feel, his proximity weakening your resolve.

You pushed his muscular chest non too gently. “I’m not playing this game with you, Namjoon. If you have any respect for me, you would leave me alone.”

He chuckled under his breath, his dark eyes gazing into yours. And before you knew it, you couldn’t stepped back anymore, your back completely against the wall. He lost all playfulness in his face, his hands on either side of you. “Who says I’m playing, flower?” He murmured, his face slowly leaning down to your neck. You felt him inhale your scent, the hair of your neck standing up. Perhaps, it recognized the danger you were in. You dared not move, waiting for the large man to do something. “And it’s because I respect us that I know we deserve another chance. I’m fighting for us, flower…regardless if I’m fighting alone.” Or fighting even you.

Seokjin

You scoffed at another bouquet of flowers delivered at your temporary apartment. Beside the flowers was a velvet box containing a gold necklace with a diamond pendant. The letter you were holding in your hand read that he missed you. It was the same thing everyday. You thought he was just wasting his time. You thought he would stop after a month. But it was almost three months and yet, the gifts kept coming. It was getting more ridiculous and more expensive as the days went by. At your anger, you threw his gifts one day. But then the morning came and he sent you a message that sent shivers down your spine.

‘Don’t throw away my gifts, sweetheart. You know it hurts me.’

But how did he know?

You weren’t even surprised that Seokjin was able to trace you, not when he had too much resources in his hands. You should have known the extent of his power. He never liked to wield his family’s power. Your Seokjin before was the most humble man you ever met, never boasting about their inherent wealth and position in the world. Yet, this Seokjin didn’t hesitate to use it when it came to you.

Apparently, you were his breaking point.

To be honest, you were terrified of him now. You felt like you were threading a thin line, and one of these days he would snapped.

You didn’t want to know what would happen then.

And so it felt like a blessing in disguise when you started working in a new company, only to find out that one of your closed professor was affiliated there as well. Now, you were offered to work a big project abroad. You didn’t even hesitate. You agreed and now it was only a week before you leave the country for a year.

You needed the space to think and heal yourself. The moment you left him was the moment you started focusing on yourself, giving your all to your career. After all, it was all you had left of you. You were no longer crying every night. You knew you were healing slowly.

As opposed to what your friends wanted you to do, you didn’t want to go out and date yet. You wanted to focus on yourself and be the best version of yourself. But his constant presence despite his absence was halting your progress. How could you move on completely if he kept reminding you that he was just there patiently waiting?

Perhaps, your own breaking point was when you received yet another gift from him. Only this time, it was a small, velvet box. Inside sat a ring with a huge diamond that almost blinded you from how it reflected back the light, as though it was taunting you. You knew what it was. You didn’t need to read the card he carefully wrote on to know what it was, ‘Sweetheart, let’s get married in June.’

At your unrestrained anger, you messaged him without thinking about where he was. In an instant, he replied that you should meet him at his restaurant, the one he secretly bought and showed you before in excitement. It was his first child, he said, something that was only his without the public knowing. You were there when it was merely starting, doing the hard work with him, dreaming with him, helping him.

Perhaps, that was why you were reluctant to go there. But you knew this had to stop. If you wanted to start anew with nothing and no one holding you back, you needed to speak to the man who broke you.

You parked your car in front of a dimly lit restaurant. With a pinched brows, you warily looked around. The place was usually full of people. Customers needed to book a table for a month before they could be catered.

So why then was it empty?

You would have turned around if not for the warm lights swarming a small area of place. You were surprised to see the door open. You were doubtful about his whereabouts, almost certain that he was messing with you if not for the message he sent that he was already there. The sound of your footsteps were deafening to you as you ventured further. You turned a corner and saw his seated form. He was looking at the floor to ceiling window, your personal touch. His eyes were focused on the scenic view outside as though he was deep in thought. With his legs spread apart and his hands resting leisurely on the table, Kim Seokjin looked as breathtaking as the day you met him.

You thought he looked even more handsome now. Of course, why wouldn’t he? It wasn’t as if it was him who lost sleep over a broken heart.

With a deep breath, you walked to him with a purpose. You shouldn’t feel self-conscious, but you did. His head turned to you slowly, his eyes taking you in. You didn’t even prepare for this. You were wearing your casual clothes, your hair in a tie and you weren’t even wearing an ounce of makeup. Yet he looked like that. He was wearing a white long sleeves, the one you bought him before. His hair was brushed away from his forehead. Kim Seokjin looked expensive.

You may looked however you liked and he would still think that you were the most precious person in the whole world. He still looked at you like you were the moon itself.

His lips tilted up when he met your eyes, “Sweetheart, you looked good-“

You marched to him and drank the glass of wine in front of him to completion. You needed the liquid courage to face him. He was watching you with raised brows, before signaling for the waiter to bring out the food and another glass.

“I ordered all your favorite food, sweetheart. Come on, take a seat-“

“Jin,” you called him with a gritted teeth. You slammed your hand on the table, leaning in to look at his eyes, willing him to see how serious you were. “You need to stop.”

He blinked, before tilting his head to the side. He leaned in closer to you, “Stop what, sweetheart?” He whispered with a tone of confusion.

“Whatever you’re doing, you need to stop.”

“Oh, you meant the gifts?” He asked in a thoughtful voice. You were appalled with the way he was acting. Was he really this delusional to think that what he was doing was in any way normal?

You took the offensive velvet box from your bag and placed it in front of him. He so slowly looked from your eyes down to the box you placed in front of him. “Didn’t you like the ring?”

Suddenly, you felt like you lost all strength just from dealing with him. You sat down in front of him, willing the heavens to give you the patience you didn’t possess at the moment.

“Why on earth would you give me an engagement ring, Seokjin?”

“Hmm, but aren’t we dating to marry?” He asked, flashing you his sweet smile. Yet, his eyes remained empty. “Isn’t that the goal, sweetheart?”

“It was the goal before you broke my heart.”

He reached across the table, and you were too slow to evade his touch. He held your hands in his larger ones, his face contorting into regret and sadness, “And I said sorry…numerous times, sweetheart. Until when are you going to punish us over an oversight? Over something that I would atone for the rest of my life? Until when are you going to be away from me?” His eyes glistened with tears, his voice sincere- so sincere that you were almost swayed.

But apologies meant nothing when you were still shattered on the ground.

You shook your head slowly, meeting his eyes with you determined ones. “I know you are sorry, Jin. And I am, too. But it doesn’t change the fact that we broke up.”

“Sweetheart, no-“

“You need to stop,” you squeezed his hand before he could even say anymore. You needed to finish this, you needed to close this chapter of your life. “No matter what you do, I’m not coming back anymore. I’m leaving Korea. I need to move on,” you whispered, looking at the eyes of the man you once loved more than yourself. You offered him a sad smile for all the things you two went through, for all the happy memories and love that had nowhere else to go anymore. You smiled for the life you had with him, and now you were turning your back on it. “And you need to move on, too.”

You left him sitting there, alone with his head bowed down.

You felt lighter than you did in the past few months. You felt like you could breathe now. With an unhurried movement, you walked to your car and opened the door when a large hand suddenly pushed the door shut again. Heart beating faster, you turned around only to find Jin towering over you. He was breathing hard, his eyes burned with something you couldn’t name. He had yet to turn to you, his body so close to you that you could feel heat emitting from him.

“J-Jin-“

He shook his head, strands of his dark hair falling on his forehead. “You’re not leaving Korea,” he stated, his brows furrowed. His jaw was clenched when he finally looked at you. “You’re not leaving me.”

Yoongi

“Honey, he’s here..again,” your friend warned you knowingly before walking past you to her cubicle. You looked heavenward and groaned. If Yoongi thought bombarding you with his presence would do him any good, he couldn’t be anymore wrong. It had been a full month since he started showing up wherever you were, uncaring if anyone recognized him. No matter where you ran, he would show up with a sad look on his face as though you kicked his dog. As though it was him who was hurt and not you.

The moment you stepped out of the building, Yoongi smiled at you. He was sporting an undercut- a thing you noticed despite him wearing a cap. It was for another of the group’s music video, another concept that the fans were anticipating. He walked near to you, his hand reaching for your bag when you evaded his touch. He frowned when you did, sadness clouding his features. “How was your day, kitten?”

You glared at him, the words of your officemates still fresh in your mind. They thought you didn’t hear them, but you did. His actions were making them think that he was the one to be pitied when it was you that he broke. It was you who cried herself to sleep for so long that you thought you were going to die from sadness.

“I know. It’s such a bitch thing to do.”

“Right? Who does she think she is?”

“That poor guy.”

Was it your fault that this was how you wanted to move on?

Was it your fault you wanted nothing more to do with him?

“Until when are you going to do this?”

He blinked slowly, his face showing all the seriousness he had. “Until you come back to me.”

“I’m not. I’m never going to come back to a cheater,” you said with a smile on your face before walking away from him.

“Maybe you should date again?”

“What?” You sputtered out, shifting your focus from your laptop to your friend who was standing beside you, leaning against the stack of paper you had in your office table.

“Well, Yoongi wouldn’t stop, right?”

“Right…”

“What if he see you out with someone else? Then maybe he’d accept that the two of you are finally done.”

You thought long and hard about what she said, and maybe…just maybe this would work. You chose to ignore the warning thump of your heart, the one that knew how possessive he was, the one that knew how he reacted before when you interacted with other men.

You found yourself thoroughly enjoying someone else’s company. It was the first date, yet he managed to intrigue you. His quick wit, sense of humor, and gentlemanly ways softened your heart. You were still smiling when you entered your apartment late at night. In your arms was the beautiful bouquet of flowers he got you. You turned on the light and walked to your home when you saw him.

You screamed when you saw Min Yoongi sitting on your sofa, his eyes staring at nothingness. He looked…dangerous, as though he was one wrong move away from losing it. Slowly, so slowly, he looked at you and then at the flowers you were holding.

You wanted to hide it from his vicious eyes. You wanted to hide it as though you did something wrong. But you didn’t…right?

“What the fuck are you doing here?! This is trespassing!”

He chuckled humorlessly before tilting his head to the side, “How was your date, kitten?”

You stepped back without a thought when he stood up. “Y-you need to leave,” your voice trembled, your eyes widened and your breaths were shallowed. Yoongi looked…unstable.

“Are we equal now, kitten?” He murmured, his legs carrying him closer to you. He looked really curious, “I broke your trust, so your broke my heart.”

“It’s not the same-“

“Does that mean all is fair now?” His low voice scared you now that he was nearer. His dark eyes taking you in. “Will you take me back now?”

“I didn’t cheat on you. You did. We are done. How does that count as cheating?”

“I’m getting impatient, kitten,” he confessed, looking down at his feet. He poked his tongue in his cheek, before slowly looking up at you. “I need you back or else…I think I’m really going to lose it…”

You tried to push his body away from you, eager to create distance between the two of you. But his body remained grounded in front of you. “You need to leave-“

“You’re going to love me again,” he stated, so certain that you would. His dark eyes bore into yours. You were so distracted and intimidated with his proximity that you failed to notice the syringe he was holding. And before you knew it, a stinging pain could be felt in your neck.

And then you lost consciousness. But you need not worry, kitten. He was there to catch you.

“It’s done,” he said as soon as Hoseok picked up the phone. “Meet us in front.”

Hoseok

You frowned as you looked down at your ringing phone. Your ex’s sister had been endlessly attempting to contact you, yet you didn’t bother to read any of her messages. You only messaged her once to inform her that her brother and you were done, and you thanked her profusely on the kindness she showed on you. After all, she was almost like a family to you. Perhaps, that was why his betrayal hurt more. He wasn’t the only one out of your life, but for your peace of mind and healing, his family as well.

It had been more than two months since you escaped from him with the help of Namjoon. It had been that long since you blocked every communication you had with him.

His betrayal still burned, but you were in the path of healing.

In fact, your friend convinced you to go out and try again. She said you didn’t have to take the dates seriously, that you could just dipped your toes into the water again. You were in a relationship for so long that she wanted you to see what was out there. And so, you were trying.

You realized there was so much out there than what you originally thought.

Your phone rang once again when you got off work. Your finger hovered over the screen, and something told you that you should answer her. You brought your phone to your ear, your voice small as your greeted her.

“Y/N! I’m so glad you finally answered!” Her voice was oozing with worry, and if you could see her now you would pity the kind woman.

“W-why? Are you okay?”

“It’s about Hoseok-“

You were shaking your head before she could even finish, “I don’t want to know anything about him anymore. I’m sorry.”

“I know. I know, I’m so sorry what he did was so wrong that I haven’t been speaking to him. I am on your side, Y/N. Completely. B-but…he’s my brother, too. I’m not asking you to take him back. I just… I just don’t know what to do. He needs help, Y/N,” she hurriedly stated, scared that you wouldn’t hear her out. She knew what she was going to ask of you was too much, but her love for her brother outweighed the shame.

You were quiet for so long that she thought you dropped the call. You were thinking hard about what she was saying. You didn’t want to do this. You didn’t want to see him. You didn’t even want to care.

“What are you asking from me?”

“Just go to him. Just once. J-just convince him to seek help. Please. My mother and I no longer know what to do.”

You found yourself waiting outside the apartment you once shared with him, your eyes focused on your shoes as you waited for Hoseok’s sister to open the door. You didn’t want to presume that the code didn’t change. You didn’t even want to try, you didn’t want to know.

“You’re here,” her worried voice woke you up from your reverie. She wrapped her arms around you gently like an old friend would before stepping away and looking at you with sorrow in her eyes. “I’m really sorry for what happened. And I’m so sorry for dragging you back into this mess.”

You couldn’t even say it was fine because it wasn’t. Instead, you squeezed her hands and offered her an understanding smile. She lead you to what was once your room, pausing outside the door. She hesitated before looking at you.

“H-he’s not the most stable lately. Ever since Jimin saw you out with someone else, he has been like this…”

“Jimin told him that?” You asked in disbelief, racking your brain on the past few dates you went to, all of which were harmless. When did Jimin see you?

She sighed before shaking her head, “He really shouldn’t have told him that. He knew how…intense Hoseok is when it comes to you. You’ll see.”

She knocked lightly on the closed door before opening it. The room was dark and cold, extremely opposite to how it was when you lived there. The only light that seeped through was now from the hallway. You could barely see a man’s form lying down on the bed, his back facing the door.

“Hoseok, you have a visitor,” she called him tenderly, opening the door further so you could step in. Yet, you didn’t. You didn’t know if you should.

“Send them away,” he answered in the coldest and lowest voice you had ever heard from him. He didn’t even lift his head, didn’t even want to acknowledge whoever it was.

“Hoseok, maybe you should-“

“I said I don’t want to talk to anyone! I want to be alone! I deserve to be alone-“ he suddenly screamed, turning his head to your direction. The vein in his neck was protruding from the force of his emotions. And the way he suddenly lost all his anger, the way his face mellowed down from fury to disbelief shocked you.

Suddenly, he had the strength when it had been months since he felt like he lost all his firmness. He stood up and ran to you, his hands cradling your face as he looked at you with wander in his eyes. His lips were trembling, his eyes looked desperate and borderline crazed as he finally saw the love of his life standing in front of him after you evaded him for months. It had been so long since he broke your heart and you in turn shattered his very being.

Didn’t you know he wouldn’t survive without you?

Didn’t you know he’d rather perished than live in his world without you by his side?

His tears were falling from his eyes, drenching your hands that were trying to push his hand aside. “Angel,” he called for you sweetly, his trembling as he gazed into your eyes. “Where have you been? I’ve been looking for you, my angel. I’ve busied myself buying you everything that you deserve. Our closet is full of things I know you’d like. Would you like to take a look?”

Your eyes widened the more he opened his mouth, the more you listened to his words that made no sense. You turned to look at his sister who was looking at you with worry. This was what she meant. Her brother did nothing but to fill his days with the thoughts of you, and yet he failed to take care of himself.

It didn’t get past your notice that he looked tired, that he looked as though he hadn’t been paying attention to himself. It was so opposite to what you knew of him. Hoseok was particular with the way he presented himself. He was disciplined in himself. But the man holding you right now was anything but the well-made man you knew.

Hoseok looked thinner.

“I-I’m not here to come back to you,” you said in a wary voice, pushing him away but this time, you were successful. You tried to be as gentle as possible. After all, before the worst, he was the best. Before he broke you, he completed you. You were gentle to the version of Hoseok who loved you with all his heart, not the one who cheated on you.

He looked confused and saddened by your actions, his head tilted to the side.

“No. No! You’re here because you forgive me, right?” He insisted, his form kept on coming near you despite you evading his touches. “You’re here because those boys can’t love you the way I do, right?!”

“Hoseok,” your voice trembled, your eyes shining with tears by just seeing his current state. You understood now why his sister was worried; Hoseok was on edge of the cliff.

He suddenly stopped, his arms falling lifelessly to his side. His head was bowed down, his dark hair obstructing his face.

“I hurt you,” he concluded sadly. The tall man in front of you looked like a lost child, like he had lost all the hope in the world and had already given up. “I hurt you. And I should just die.”

What?

You hadn’t even processed what he said when he walked briskly to the kitchen, his strides purposeful. You and his sister ran after him, and you were almost too late. He had opened a bottle of pills and poured the contents in his open palm. He was about to put them inside his mouth when you hugged him so tight that he accidentally let go of them. They clattered on the floor around his feet.

You were openly crying now, your shoulders shaking. Your unstoppable tears drenched his shirt- and it was enough to snap him from whatever he was doing. He turned around, his brows pinched together as he looked at your unconsolable form.

“W-why are you crying, my angel?” Hoseok asked, tilting you chin to meet his empty eyes. “You don’t want me gone?”

You shook your head, pained that he was even capable of doing what he was about to do. “N-no. Please-“

“You love me?” He asked, hope in his eyes. “You take me back, then?”

His sister was watching the two of you, and at your hesitation, she mouthed ‘please’.

And so you nodded, and Hoseok pulled you in his arms, never to let you go. You didn’t see the smirk he had in his face.

[blog-name-idk]

The Package Thief (KNJ)

Beautiful banner by @btsstan12

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Fem Reader

Genre: Neighbors/Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Humor

Summary: You have a new neighbor who is incredibly attractive. Unfortunately, he seems to hate you for no discernable reason at all. Does he think that just because he's hot, he can get away with being an asshole?

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Fem Reader

Genre: Neighbors/Enemies to Lovers, Fluff, Humor

Word Count: 3,473

Warnings: Language, dimples, Namtiddies

~~~~~

The first time you saw your tall, handsome, dimple-cheeked neighbor, you were thrilled to have some eye candy in your apartment building. You had just moved in, and when he smiled at you in the lobby, you could have sworn you heard birds chirp and angels sing.

When you spotted him again while gathering up the packages for your floor, you perked up, hoping it would be your chance to get his name.

"Oh hey! Could you hold that for me?" you called as he stepped past the sliding doors. You juggled the boxes awkwardly in your hand as you hurried forward with a smile, only for the handsome stranger to glare at you as if you were doing something wrong. He then pressed a button that was clearly not to keep the door open, because it slid shut in your face.

"What the fuck?" you asked the air, staring at the metal frame incredulously. Who the hell did something like that? Did this asshole think he was too good to share the elevator with you?

Ugh, it figured. Of course someone that hot would never have learned to be a good person.

With a sigh, you jammed the "up" button with your elbow to wait for the next one. Your ire cooled as you waited, and you decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. Maybe he just had to take a shit really badly or something, and what you thought was a glare was actually his constipated face. He would probably apologize the next time you ran into each other.

~~~~~

Your neighbor did not apologize the next time you ran into each other.

If anything, he seemed to glare harder. And then the prick closed the door in your face, again. Unbelievable.

You weren't going to take this abuse laying down, so whenever you were in the position to do so, you returned the favor. It felt good to see the same irritation on his face each time the metal door slid shut, and you relished in your petty victories. He deserved a taste of his own medicine. Did he really think that just because he was hot, he could get away with being a dick?

On this particular day, you had worked late to clean up after a coworker's mistakes, and you were exhausted. All you wanted to do was take off your shoes and bra and listen to some music while you fought off the urge to angry cry.

Of course, because the universe hated you, you got to the lobby to see the smug, obnoxious smirk on your neighbor's face as he jammed the door close button. You clenched your teeth, feeling heat and frustration build behind your eyes, and gave him your most venomous glare as you flipped him off. You were not going to give this horrible piece of shit the satisfaction of seeing you upset.

Once he was gone, you pressed the elevator button, only to notice the sign indicating the other was broken. So you had to wait for piece-of-shit to get to whatever the fuck floor he lived on before it came back. It was a small thing, but enough to break through the cracks of your composure, and you felt hot tears begin to leak down your face.

You wiped your eyes angrily and took several deep breaths while you pulled yourself back together. Well, if you were going to have to wait, you might as well bring the packages up to your floor again. No point in leaving them down here for anyone to take.

As you waited for the elevator, you wondered how in the world anyone could be such a raging asshole.

~~~~~

"God, someone stole a package again yesterday," groaned Namjoon over a glass of scotch. It was Friday, the first night he had free in weeks, and it felt good to unwind after being frustrated by his bitchy neighbor for so long. Seriously, what was up with her? Did she think that just because she was hot she could get away with stealing peoples' mail?

"Again?" Jimin said in surprise, taking a sip of his own drink. "What about building management?"

"What do you mean?" Namjoon asked with a baffled furrow of his brow. Jimin lived in the same building, but on a different floor. Now that Namjoon thought about it, he'd also never heard his friend complain about a single package stolen.

"Do they just not bring up your stuff soon enough?" Jimin questioned, cocking his head. "The girl who brings the packages for my floor even organizes them by unit order."

What the hell was Jimin on about? That wasn't a thing. Oblivious to his friend's confusion, Jimin rambled on, and Namjoon pondered on this new mystery. The only person he'd ever seen picking up several packages was –

"She's really cute too, and she's always smiling."

Okay nevermind, it wasn't her. He doubted he'd seen an expression on her face other than irritation and spite. She was definitely attractive, but hot bitch wasn't really the type that turned him on.

"Oh, there she is, actually!" Jimin chirped in excitement, eyes sparkling as he waved at someone over Namjoon's shoulder. "Hey, [y/n]!"

The mystery girl in question greeted his friend with a vaguely familiar voice, and when Namjoon turned to see who it was, he felt his stomach drop.

You stared back, clearly just as shocked, and Namjoon did his best not to ogle. You weren't wearing anything outrageous, just tight-fitting jeans, a slinky top that hugged your curves, and heels that highlighted how your ass filled out said tight-fitting jeans. Even without the clothes, the smile on your face was enough to make his stomach do something funny, though it quickly faded when you recognized him.

"This is my friend Namjoon!" Jimin continued cheerfully, oblivious to the tense atmosphere suddenly hanging over the table. "He lives in our building! Namjoon, this is [y/n], she's the building person that brings up our packages."

You gave a forced smile, and Namjoon felt the beginning prickles of nausea and anxiety as he realized he might have made a tiny misjudgment.

"I just do it for our floor because it's on the way," you explained quietly, avoiding his gaze. The edges of your smile grew warmer when you looked at Jimin, transforming your face from glacial beauty to soft sincerity.

"Then I definitely owe you a drink," Jimin responded with a laugh, motioning for Namjoon to scoot over to give you room to sit. He obeyed woodenly, mind racing as guilt weighed down his heart.

"Don't worry about it," you assured him with a chuckle that made something in Namjoon's chest ache. "I'm about to walk home, anyway."

"Alone?"

You looked at Namjoon in surprise, and he realized he spoke aloud. He cleared his throat, feeling like a stupid lump as he looked down at his drink with warm cheeks. Despite the relative proximity of the apartment, he didn't like the idea of you alone this late at night.

"Yeah? It's not that far," you said suspiciously, as if waiting for a snide comment. It made his chest sink, though it wasn't as if you didn't have a good reason for your misgivings. He spoke up again, hoping maybe he could talk to you and have the chance to explain his earlier behavior.

"Why don't you have a drink with us, and we can all walk back together?"

To his surprise, you stiffened and the corners of your mouth tightened into a thin line.

"Why? So you can make me take another elevator?" you asked angrily, making Namjoon flush and Jimin look between the two of you in confusion. "No thanks, my week has been exhausting enough already. I'll see you around, Jimin."

With that, you stomped away in unfortunately righteous indignation, and Namjoon barely had time to admire the sway of your hips before Jimin piped up.

"What was that all about?" his friend asked with a frown, his usually twinkling eyes now boring into Namjoon's. He felt heat creep up his face as he sighed and began to tell Jimin the entire saga, from how he had assumed you were stealing packages and proceeded to close the elevator door in your face, to the current state of antagonism. By the time he was finished, his friend's mouth was hanging open, and he felt more embarrassment at just how childishly he had acted.

"Joonie, I'm just really surprised," said Jimin wonderingly as he rubbed his forehead. "It's not like you to be like that."

Namjoon winced, knowing he was right. He liked to think that he was the more mature, level-headed one of their friend group, above silly squabbles and petty revenge. Obviously he had overestimated himself.

"I hope you haven't done anything recently, I think she's been having a hard time at work," Jimin mused, and Namjoon felt the lead weight of guilt in his stomach grow heavier. At this rate it was going to fall out of his butt. "She was crying in the lobby yesterday."

Well fuck. He really was an asshole.

~~~~~

You had just arrived home and flopped facedown on your couch when your recharging was rudely interrupted by a knock at the door. With a groan, you forced yourself up and peered through your peephole. What the fuck?

You made sure your chain lock was fastened before you unlocked the latch and cracked the door open, peering at your visitor dubiously.

"What do you want?" you asked, eyeing a beaming Namjoon in suspicion. You had never seen him look so cheerful, and you had to remind yourself he was not a golden retriever, no matter how cute he looked with flour dusting his nose or how deep his dimples were.

"I made cookies," he said happily, and you realized he was holding a paper plate covered in crumpled tin foil. "To apologize for the way I've been acting towards you."

You felt your brows raise at his statement, and you cast your eyes behind him in mistrust. Where had this one-eighty come from? Was it just because his friend lived on your floor?

Namjoon's shoulders drooped slightly at your lack of response, and he began to shift in place awkwardly.

"Um, I just – so I know I've been a dick to you," he began, chewing his lip and looking adorably embarrassed. "This is gonna sound stupid but I thought you were stealing packages when I saw you holding all of them."

For a moment, all you could do was stare.

"You thought that I would steal a bunch of packages, in the building I live in, while other residents were around?" you asked incredulously, making Namjoon turn bright red and clear his throat.

"Well, when you put it that way…" he mumbled awkwardly. "I just… I'm sorry. I'm really sorry. I hope we can start over."

He peered at you with such hopeful eyes that you felt your resolve crumble, and when you unhooked the chain from your door you could have sworn you saw a tail wagging.

"Okay," you replied, unable to keep yourself from smiling at the way he had perked up. Those dimples were serious weapons against your ability to hold a grudge. You held out your hand. "I'm [y/n], and I do not steal packages."

Namjoon laughed, a low, rich sound that you felt vibrate in your stomach, and took your hand in a firm, warm grip.

"I'm Namjoon, and I'm an idiot who jumps to crazy conclusions," he said with a grin that deepened the stupidly cute divots in his cheeks. Then he had to let go to save the wobbling plate of cookies from an untimely demise before holding it toward you with a look of chagrin.

You accepted his offering with a laugh, feeling like a warm bubble was floating in your chest. Then you bade your hot, not-asshole neighbor goodbye and set the plate on your kitchen table. You peeked under the foil, and decided maybe one cookie before dinner was acceptable. Or maybe two, if –

You took a bite of the soft, delicious looking pastry and immediately spat it out in disgust. What the fuck.

~~~~~

Namjoon Hyung! It worked!

Jin Wait, you actually made the cookies?

Namjoon Yes! They came out perfectly No fires and only a few cracked eggs on my floor!

Jin I'm impressed How'd they taste?

Namjoon Oh fuck

~~~~~

For the second time tonight, your evening was interrupted by unwelcome pounding at your door. You didn't even bother to check who it was this time.

"What do you have this time?" you snarled through the door, wondering if it was worth it to open it so you could strangle Namjoon's handsome neck. "Oreos with toothpaste filling?"

The knocking ceased, and a small, timid voice spoke up on the other side of the wood.

"Oh… you had one…"

"Unfortunately," you said shortly, crossing your arms in an attempt to keep his woebegone tone from softening your ire.

"I was hoping you hadn't yet," he wheezed through the door. "I forgot to taste them before I gave them to you."

He sounded sincere, and suddenly you realized he was speaking through pants, as if he was out of breath.

"Did you run all the way up here to warn me?" you asked in surprise, mollified enough to unlock your door and open it to reveal a rumpled looking Namjoon, bent over with his hands on his knees.

"Yeah – I didn't want to wait for the elevator," he replied, red-cheeked from exertion. "I'm sorry, I'm actually a disaster cook but I really thought I did a good job this time."

You felt your lips twitch into a smile at the imagine of tall, handsome Namjoon tasting a cookie and then immediately bolting up however many flights of stairs to stop you from eating them. What a clumsy idiot. A clumsy, adorable idiot.

"Do you want some water?" you asked, stepping aside to invite him in.

"That would be amazing," he gasped, giving you a grateful look as he walked inside. As he passed you, you noticed a few beads of sweat rolling down his temple. He really was even more attractive up close.

You directed him to sit on your couch as you grabbed a glass of water, and he picked up the book you had left on your coffee table.

"Oh, you read Murakami?" he asked as he looked at the cover. "I haven't read this one yet, is it any good?"

"It's my first, actually," you replied as you set the glass in front of him, sitting on the couch a respectable distance away. "I think he presents ideas of loneliness and intimacy in interesting ways. Does he always write the women as accessories to the male protagonists, though?"

"Haha… unfortunately, yes," Namjoon agreed, his dangerous dimples making another appearance as he smiled apologetically at you. "Do you read a lot?"

"I try, but not as much as I used to," you said with a sigh, letting your head fall back to rest on the back of your couch. "After work sometimes I'm too mentally exhausted to do anything but exist."

"But you still bring your floor's packages up?" Namjoon said in surprise, turning his wide chest towards you and giving you his full attention. You tried not to stare at the way his pecs strained against his plain white shirt, but between his body and his face there was nowhere safe for your gaze to land.

"It's not like it's that much extra effort," you said with a shrug. "Why wouldn't I when it's easy?"

"It wouldn't even cross most peoples' minds to do it," Namjoon replied, eyes locked on yours and making your cheeks feel warm. "You're a nice person, [y/n]."

"I-it's really not a big deal," you said feebly, your chest fluttering at the sincerity in his voice. You cast about your mind for a change in subject, because the way he was smiling at you was dangerous for your heart. "How did you fuck up those cookies so spectacularly, anyway?"

Your question worked to take that piercing gaze off of you, and Namjoon turned a pretty shade of pink as he looked down at his knees.

"I uh – I'm really not sure," he muttered in embarrassment, making you want to coo at how cute he was.

"Did you… follow a recipe?" you asked in consternation, watching his cheeks grow even redder.

"I… yeah, but…" he mumbled, eyes glancing around before settling on the glass of water. He grabbed it and took a large swig, and you did your best to ignore the way his Adam's apple bobbed when he swallowed.

"But?" you urged, amusement lacing your voice as this once-asshole stammered and squirmed uncomfortably on your sofa.

"Why wouldn't more vanilla extract make it taste better?" Namjoon whined, making you put your hand over your mouth to hide a snort.

"Oh my god, you didn't," you giggled, his chagrined pout doing as much to endear him to you as the previous half our combined. "It also tasted like you switched salt for sugar."

"Dammit," he groaned, flopping backwards so he was oddly contorted on the couch, feet still on the ground but his hips twisted so his back was laying on your cushions. His knees knocked against yours and he shot back up with an apologetic look, but all you could do was laugh harder.

"My friend who gave me the recipe was just impressed I didn't burn anything down," he sighed, though he seemed relieved that you looked more amused than irritated.

"You… you really don't cook, do you?" you chortled, scooting a little closer so you could nudge his shoulder with yours.

"I'm your stereotypical bachelor," he replied with a sigh, draping an arm behind you, across the back of the couch. You felt your heart flutter again at the smooth combination of the physical action with the way he confirmed he was single.

"So no pretty ladies – or men – to teach you?" you teased, leaning further into his body. He met your eyes with his warm gaze, making butterflies erupt in your stomach.

"Nope," he murmured, arm slipping off the sofa to rest lightly atop your shoulders, so precarious that it was clear he was half-expecting you to shrug him off.

"I guess that means I should invite you to stay for dinner," you said with a smile, enjoying the ego boost when his eyes brightened.

"No pretty men – or ladies – who would be upset by that?" he hedged, those dastardly dimples making their reappearance as he leaned closer, gaze flickering to your lips. His arm slipped lower to hug your waist, and you let him pull you closer.

"Only one who would be upset if you refused," you murmured with a smirk, tangling your fingers in his shirt as you tugged him toward you.

His lips were warm against yours, even softer than they looked, and you let out a pleased sigh as you melted into his firm chest. A low groan rumbled from his throat, sending warm tingles shooting from your chest through your limbs, and you sucked his plump lower lip between your teeth.

"I really just thought you were a hot asshole," you said with a laugh, pulling away despite the heat beginning to settle in your core.

"I mean, I was definitely an asshole," he mumbled, cheeks pink as his gaze stayed glued to your lips. Then his eyes widened. "Uh, h-hot?"

You snorted at his surprise, giving him a very obvious once over. Namjoon's face flamed even redder, which was absolutely adorable.

"Have you seen yourself?" you teased, letting your hands rest on his shoulders.

"Nah, too busy looking at you," he replied quietly, and it was your turn to be flustered. How had he turned the tables like that so quickly?

"Ha ha," you said awkwardly, cursing yourself for your inability to formulate a coherent response. He was supposed to be the idiot, not you. At your response, those dimples made their reappearance, and you stood up to prevent yourself from melting into a gooey puddle.

"Anyway, I'm gonna start dinner."

You said it in a rush, in the hopes that Namjoon didn't realize how giddy he was making you.

"Oh! Let me help!"

He began to get up from the couch, and you promptly shoved him back down.

"For the love of god, please don't," you teased with a laugh, pressing a kiss on his nose to ease the sting of your words. "Just sit there and look pretty. Moral support."

Namjoon smiled back at you, eyes warm and affectionate, and you wondered if you would even be able to focus properly while this mancake was lounging on your couch.

"As you wish."

~~~~~

[ugh-yoongi]

by the time i've figured out what it's worth | myg

(or, sometimes you go through hell, and sometimes you make it to the other side.)

✤ PAIRING musician!yoongi x f. reader ✤ SUMMARY you used to find comfort in it—listening to those old songs. the shy sounds of falling in love, the tinkling of a ring in a dish, the inevitable crash and burn. all those songs aren’t so comforting anymore, when you’d do anything to keep him and yoongi’s got one foot out the door. ✤ GENRE est. relationship, marriage au | angst, smut, fluff ✤ RATING explicit. minors dni. ✤ WARNINGS this fic deals with a lot of unhappy topics: mental health, self-worth, divorce, the general demise of a relationship & marriage, counseling & therapy—therefore, there are moments of heavy-ish angst. there are moments where this couple is not all that nice to each other. there are arguments and resolutions. so, it's heavy but they get through it (aka there is a happy ending). american setting, yoongi is a solo artist, everyone pls pray for marriage counselor kim namjoon, seokjin is once again the fic's mvp, swearing, alcohol, recreational drug use (weed/edibles), one quick reference to c*vid, emotional hurt/comfort, miscommunication, two knuckleheads engaging in knucklehead behavior, lots of repetition and space metaphors. this is basically "what would happen if yoongi wrote tiny vessels about his wife: the fic," so do with that what you will. ✤ SMUT WARNINGS oral sex (both receiving), fingering, very slight dom yoongi, dirty talk, unprotected vaginal sex, multiple orgasms, angst and crying during sex, hands on throat but no choking, fingers in mouth bc it's me. i think that's it. the smut is mostly tame. ✤ WORDCOUNT 20k ✤ LISTEN TO all of transatlanticism by death cab for cutie, especially "tiny vessels." all the lyrics used throughout the fic are from this album, so it'd help contextualize a lot! also "monday morning," "stay young go dancing," and "you are a tourist." ✤ WRITTEN FOR the composition of the century collab. thank you to isi (@raplinesmoon), ryen (@kithtaehyung), and mars (@joheunsaram) for letting me participate. ♡ ✤ THANK YOU to jess (@the-boy-meets-evil) and bee (@hot-soop) for being my betas. this was a labor of love and a big ask, so i appreciate the both of you very much. ✤ AUTHOR'S NOTE hi! thank you for checking out my fic. before you read, i just want to overemphasize that this is a pretty angsty piece at times. a lot of it is very personal, and therefore i understand if it's not your cup of tea! if you do read it, i hope you enjoy it and find something human here. relationships are messy because humans are messy, and sometimes both the easiest and most difficult thing you can ever do is love another person.

so this is the new year, and i have no resolutions / or self-assigned penance for problems with easy solutions.

There’s a woman on the television trying to sell you a recliner.

Yoongi isn’t paying attention. He’d downed two glasses of whiskey and said he had something to work on, and he’s here, just like you’d asked, but the distance between the two of you feels insurmountable. Your ninth New Year’s Eve together, and all you’ve got to show for it is a crumbling foundation, a pair of headphones shoved over his ears, a woman on the television trying to sell you a recliner. Some home shopping channel, because you couldn’t bear to see anyone else having a good time. Selfish. Fucking selfish, and you wonder if Yoongi would be on your end of the couch if you weren’t.

What does it matter. You’d be here either way, because you’ve made peace with knowing there are things that are built to last and things like what you and Yoongi have: things that make you hesitant, things that make you yearn, things that sit in your stomach all wrong, taste caustic on your tongue.

It’s logical, then, that you just need something to do. A distraction. You push yourself up from the couch with a sigh, joints cracking, and you feel old. Exhausted, more like; something bone-deep and not easily cured. You pass through the dining room on the way to the kitchen, and all those wedding photos taunt you. Happier times, the two of you smiling into a kiss, Yoongi’s hands on your waist, fingers tangled in chiffon.

You wonder which one of you will stay here after it all goes to shit.

Him, if you were a betting man.

You scrub at the dishes in the sink until your hands are nearly cracked from the scalding water. Yellow gloves sit unused on the counter—sometimes you want the burn because pain is familiar, and a physical pain is easier to solve than your failing marriage. So you scrub away the remnants of a dinner that found you and Yoongi eating in silence. Nothing to say to one another after another year gone by. Not much to look back on fondly. And then you scrub some more, like you could get rid of all the scabs inside of you just as easily.

Some things circle the drain and wash away. Others stain.

You already know which one Yoongi is.

From the living room, the muted sounds of a countdown. Palpable excitement you should be able to feel, but find only numbness instead. Yoongi must have changed the channel. There’s a supercut playing in your head, all the past celebrations. All the parties the two of you have gone to, the years spent alone but together. All the people you’ve kissed in front of. All the quiet, private ways Yoongi used to tell you he loved you. When was the last time? What does it matter. There’s seven seconds until the new year and Yoongi hasn’t come looking for you, so what does it fucking matter.

Fireworks explode outside. A sob wracks your body as you crumble to the floor. There’s a small puddle of dishwater that seeps into the hemline of your shirt. Yoongi hasn’t come looking for you and he can’t hear you, so there’s no one to witness your breakdown but the fucking dishes in the sink. Yoongi had chosen the countertops.

You’re going to miss this place when it’s no longer your home.

instincts are misleading / you shouldn't think what you're feeling / they don't tell you what you know you should want.

Kim Namjoon wouldn’t have been your first choice, if you’d had the luxury of choice.

You like him enough, though. Wicked smart, patient to a fault, pragmatic when it’s required. There’s not much more you could ask for in a marriage counselor besides not needing one at all, but that hadn’t been in the cards. The first time you and Yoongi had met him, you’d cracked a joke that hadn’t landed. The embarrassment of it still stings, made worse by the discomfort of the couch in his office.

“How are things?” he asks. He always dresses impeccably. Today he’s in a sage green sweater and tan trousers that must’ve cost a fortune to get tailored. Even his notebook is genuine leather; sometimes it squeaks when he jots down notes too fast, friction against the fabric of his clothing.

Yoongi is quiet. If you’re embarrassed over a joke, he’s embarrassed over everything else. At least you’re willing to work on things. Getting Yoongi to do anything these days is akin to pulling teeth, and you’ve got a mouth full of blood. “Fine,” Yoongi answers, eyes locked downward. Namjoon’s office has hardwood floors. Tigerwood, he’d said once. Yoongi had complimented them. That had stung, too.

Wicked smart. Namjoon turns to you, glasses slipping a little down his nose. “Would you agree with that?”

You wouldn’t, but the urge to make this easy on Yoongi is hard to fight off. Everything is hard. It’d taken him twenty minutes past midnight to come find you in the kitchen all those weeks ago, chest still heaving, eyes swollen. He’d been distraught, tried to kiss your tears away, apologized over and over like they were the only words he knew. Things aren’t fine, but at least you’ve been willing to fight, and the cost of that persistence feels like the weight of the world.

“No,” you admit, and Namjoon just nods. Writes something down. You don’t have the courage to look at Yoongi. Sometimes it’s easier to let go of a dying thing.

“Okay. How were the holidays?”

It’s hard to breathe around the lump in your throat. All you want to do is hold Yoongi’s hand, scream at him, shake him and ask why he’s doing this to you. Why he’s giving up. Why you aren’t worth more effort—not worth it anymore, when you used to be. If he doesn’t love you anymore you’ve already said you’ll go, and he begs you not to, says he’ll do better, he’s sorry, please don’t.

“They were hard,” you answer, and Yoongi nods his agreement in your peripheral. “We didn’t exchange gifts this year. First time ever.”

“And why is that?”

Yoongi stays quiet. Like pulling teeth, you think, and there’s a flashbang of anger, resentment. Sometimes you want to hurt him. Sometimes you want to make him feel as awful as you do, want him to suffer, want him to atone. It isn’t fair, the things you think, and all you want to do is love your husband without guilt, without wondering if there’s someone out there who’d appreciate it more. Still, you’ve got a nasty streak, and you can’t help but press on the bruise. “Because I knew I’d be the only one.”

“Can you expand on that?”

You shrug. Pick at invisible dirt beneath your nails. “Yoongi said he’d be busy this year. I know what that means.”

“That’s not—” Yoongi sighs, cuts himself off. Runs his hands over his face, sick of this same argument. “Baby, that isn’t fair. I asked you if you wanted to do gifts this year and you said no.”

The laugh that bubbles out of you is derisive, cruel. You’re sick of the same arguments, too. Sick of feeling stuck, some helpless animal in a glue trap. Sick of this office, with Namjoon’s priceless art that doesn’t mean a fucking thing to you; the tigerwood floors that got nicer words out of Yoongi than you have in months; the low thrum of the baseboard heat. Sick of asking Yoongi what you can do, what you can change to make this work, and getting nothing besides a self-deprecating sigh.

Yoongi loves you. Doesn’t want to hurt you. Doesn’t want you to put those kinds of burdens on your shoulders, but taking on all that water himself does nothing but make the both of you sink.

He’ll write about it, though. That’s the thing. Yoongi will write about it, and it used to bring you comfort—listening to those old songs, an aural timeline of your and Yoongi’s relationship. The shy sounds of falling in love, the tinkling of a ring in a dish, the inevitable crash and burn. All those songs aren’t so comforting anymore, when you’d do anything to keep him and Yoongi’s got one foot out the door.

“Because I listened to the song,” you say, and it should feel relieving, should alleviate some of that weight you’ve been carrying around. Instead, you just feel guilty, confessing to some cardinal sin. Yoongi goes stock-still, doesn’t dare to breathe, spine straighter than it’s been in years, and all you feel is guilt.

Namjoon quirks an eyebrow. “The song?”

this is the moment that you know that you told her that you loved her, but you don't / you touch her skin and then you think that she is beautiful but she don't mean a thing to me.

“It wasn’t meant to be about you,” Yoongi says, and his words are pleading, like if he uses the right inflections he can get you to understand. “It was just—shit, I don’t know, I just. I was just writing. I needed to do something with the way I was feeling.” His words take on more panic the longer you’re quiet, and by the end there’s a dazed look in his eyes. They’re taking on water, too. “Baby, please. Did you really think—”

This isn’t the kind of argument meant for an audience, and you’d said as much in therapy. Told Namjoon you’d like to discuss it with Yoongi in private and maybe you could all hash it out during your next session, because you knew this would happen. Knew you’d break down, knew you’d be embarrassed. How do you say your husband wrote a song about not loving you anymore and make it out still feeling whole? How do you swallow all that anger and remember all that bullshit Namjoon had taught you about how to communicate? Your stupid fucking “I” statements.

“Silver Lake?” you retort, resentment burning in your veins. “That wasn’t supposed to be about me? What, are you fucking someone else out there?”

Your husband looks like you’ve slapped him, and sometimes you want to. Sometimes you want to opt out of this life—where they’re just words to Yoongi, but a little too biographical to you. Because you’re not the only one who listens. Yoongi writes these songs and people listen to them and they think, isn’t he married. They think, did he really write a song like this about his wife. They think, that’s a little fucked up. Because they’re just words to Yoongi, and the rest of the world doesn’t know. They’re not in on the joke, and neither are you.

There are few words you can use to explain your hurt. How you’ve sat with that song these past few weeks, scouring each line for something to tell you it hurts now, but it’s going to be okay. Always coming up empty. Those lines you’ve fixated on, refused to let go of—

So when you ask, "Is something wrong?" I think, "You're damn right there is, but we can't talk about it now.”

—because that’s how it is, how it goes.

“This is my fucking life, Yoongi.” There’s only heat where there used to be patience. “You write these songs and you don’t spare a single thought for how they might affect me. You write these songs instead of talking to me, and I’m supposed to know how to fix everything, right? Aren’t I? You can’t even tell me how to fix this fucking marriage, but you’ll write a song about how I don’t mean a goddamn thing to you.”

There are tears rolling down your face. You hadn’t realized you started crying, but everything feels wet, feels wrong. Feels like you’re occupying a body that isn’t yours. You’re having this argument in someone else’s bedroom. You’re watching someone else’s marriage fall apart. Someone else’s life. “Either help me fix this and put in the work or let me go.” Everything boils over eventually. There’s only so much you can stave off before the inevitable, and now it’s come for you. “Please.” You choke on a sob. “Yoongi, please, I’m so tired.”

And Yoongi—Yoongi’s got a lot of nervous habits. Little things he does when the anxiety gets to be too much, and there’s one you share, one of those couple things where you pick up one another’s mannerisms, ways of speaking, specific inflections. Yoongi fidgets with his wedding band, pushes it up to that knobby fourth knuckle with his thumb, twirls it around.

Usually, when he pushes it far enough, there’s a strip of even paler skin. A place the sun hasn’t touched; a place that bears proof that Yoongi is yours. Yoongi pushes his wedding band with his thumb and that strip of skin matches the rest, and it strikes someplace deep that’s irrational and unfair. Because it makes sense that there isn’t a discrepancy, that everything is uniform. It makes sense, but everything is so fragile that the thought comes unbidden. Maybe there’s no discrepancy because Yoongi isn’t wearing it. Maybe there’s no discrepancy because Yoongi has let go without letting go, and there’s nothing to salvage, no point in begging, in putting the gun in his hand and forcing him to make the decision. It all tastes sour, tastes like your tongue has crumbled to ash, but—

“I’m not letting you go,” Yoongi responds, words just as waterlogged as yours. “I can’t. I won’t.”

“But you want to,” you say, and it sounds like a conclusion but you mean it like a question. A plea. Perhaps that’s the crux of it: you just can’t say what you mean. Sometimes Yoongi’s honesty feels like a brand, a permanent reminder of everything he’s ever felt that you’re forced to carry, but at least there’s honor in that. At least Yoongi doesn’t talk in fucking riddles.

He shakes his head. “No.” At least there’s conviction in his words. “No, I don’t. This is just—it’s hard right now, okay. It’s hard and it fucking sucks, and I don’t know why, but I’m not—” He sucks in a breath. Sometimes Yoongi can’t say what he means, either.

“Just say it, Yoongi.” So, you prod. Sometimes you find the most mottled bruise on his body and you press on it, because when you love someone the way you love Yoongi, you also know all the ways to hurt them. Sometimes you hurt Yoongi when you mean to hurt yourself because it feels the same.

“What do you want me to say,” he answers, defeated and raw. “Tell me what you want me to say, because if I didn’t know better, it’d sound like you wanted me to leave. It sounds like you want that but you want me to be the bad guy. You want me to pull the trigger.”

You don’t. You know that for certain, just by the way it feels excruciating to merely think about. What would your life even look like without Yoongi? What would it be? But you’re still that caged animal. Still resentful of Yoongi’s composure, because you can fall apart at a moment’s notice and Yoongi is always calm, prepared; always the last building standing in a hurricane.

“I don’t want that,” you say, borrowing a bit of your husband’s honesty, his fortitude, “but I need you to know that’s where we’re at. I need you to be able to say it, instead of treating it like it’s some impossible thing—“

“It is,” Yoongi argues, brows pinched, lips pouted. “Baby, what are you saying? It is. Why wouldn’t it be? That’s what you want?”

“You don’t write songs like you did about someone you’re not planning on leaving, Yoongi. I don’t know how you don’t understand that. I don’t—how can you think it’s impossible? You think I’ve just been doing all of this for fun? The therapy, the crying? You think I haven’t already—” Mourned the end of my marriage, you want to say, but you can’t. You need to be realistic. You need to say what you mean, and even if it’s true—even if you’ve mentally divided up everything in this house, thehouse itself—it doesn’t do you any good to create new wounds when both of you are already beaten and battered.

“You’re my fucking wife,” comes Yoongi’s response, and the way he says it feels dirty. Yoongi calls you his wife the way lesser men would use a slur, and sometimes Yoongi is composed but sometimes he’s angry. Sometimes he’s so angry the world becomes too small to contain him. “I’m not gonna—you’ve already what? Given up? Checked out? It’s not fair, this thing you do. Decide how things are gonna play out before they even happen. It’s fucking bullshit. You’re my fucking wife, and the least you could do is give me a little credit—”

“Oh, that’s rich.”

Yoongi’s pupils blow wide. Sometimes you think they’re the darkest thing in the universe. Vantablack. “Yeah, it is. It is fucking rich.”

“At least I’m trying! At least I’m doing something, not just writing little fucking songs about how much I don’t care about you.”

Yoongi slams the door behind him.

For the first time, you wonder if he’s coming back.

i am waiting for that sense of relief / i am waiting for you to flee the scene / as if you held in your hand the smoking gun / and on the floor lay the one you said you loved.

You feel him before you hear him, and he doesn’t wake you up.

It’s dark. Probably sometime between one and two, judging by the pillar of moonlight creeping in through the curtains. Yoongi is quiet as he moves around the bedroom, still so considerate even now, and you just watch. Jeans removed one leg at a time, hung neatly in the closet; socks removed one by one, into the hamper; flannel unbuttoned with calloused fingers, dropped on the floor. He’ll pick it up tomorrow, just like he always does. Down to just a t-shirt, neckline loose and stretched from overwear, and black briefs.

Moonlight suits him, you think. (You’ve always thought.) Casts silver shadows on his skin, fills in the contours, lends credence to the thought that Yoongi is something ethereal, someone wasting his time on earth.

He’s down to a t-shirt and briefs, and he hesitates. Takes a step toward the bed and thinks better of it. Doesn’t know what to do in this liminal space, in this liminal period of time. There’s only two ways to go, and Yoongi will either leave or he’ll stay, and right now he doesn’t know which one it’s going to be.

“Yoongi,” you say, and you try to make the decision for him. “You’re home?”

You see him swallow, watch his shoulders slump. “Yeah,” he says, and it’s quiet like the nighttime. You’re in the middle of the city and this moment is so quiet. “I’m—did I wake you? I’m sorry, I just—”

“No,” you answer. You don’t want to fight. “You’re fine. Do you—are you coming to bed?”

He nods. Seems to fold in on himself just a little more. “Yeah. Yeah, just have to brush my teeth.”

There’s the padding of feet on hardwood. Something that sounds like a stubbed toe. A loud curse. The flick of the bathroom light, the faucet, spit. The padding of feet on hardwood, then the bedroom rug. The depression of the mattress, his phone plugged in and discarded carelessly on his nightstand. An exhale, like he’s finally home after a long day.

Does Yoongi still consider you his home?

“I’m sorry,” you say. Still quiet, just like the nighttime. “I don’t want to fight with you.”

You hear Yoongi swallow again. Smell just the faintest hint of alcohol. “No one’s fighting, baby,” he answers. Woven into his words is a softness you don’t deserve. “We can talk about it in the morning.”

“Can we talk about it now?”

Yoongi suits the moonlight, but so do you. It makes you brave. Sometimes things are easier to say in these in-between spaces: love and heartbreak, midnight and morning. Sometimes the sun is too reflective, and sometimes it burns.

“Do you want to?” You nod, even though instinct tells you to shirk away and take it back. A small piece of honesty to work yourself up to something bigger, more consequential. “Okay.”

Sometimes you get what you want and aren’t sure what to do with it, so you roll onto your side, the one facing your husband, and suck in a breath. Hold it. Count to five. Let it go. Yoongi reserves all his patience for you, always. “I’m really scared, Yoongi.”

His sigh is fractured, watery. “Me too,” he admits. “There’s a lot I want to say and I just—I don’t know how. Which makes it worse, I know, and then I don’t know how to fix it.”

Is that why… “The song?”

Yoongi nods. “I needed to get it out. Like, some call of the void shit, you know? Put those big fears into words in a way that—it doesn’t make sense, looking back, because I thought it was just an outlet. Just, write this hypothetical song about the collapse of our relationship because it fucking terrified me and then let it go. Like how sometimes Namjoon tells us to write letters to each other and burn them.” He fists the duvet. Moonlight gleams off his wedding band. “I’m sorry. I need you to know it wasn’t real… like that.”

“Okay.”

“I—you were right. About the other thing. About me not being able to say it.”

“Can you now?”

Yoongi shakes his head. “I don’t think I can. Makes it real.”

“You also can’t stand in a burning house and pretend it’s not on fire.”

That gets a laugh out of him. Sardonic, a little self-deprecating, but it’s there. “Is that where you’re at? With me.” He makes a sound that’s a lot like a whimper. “Divorce.”

“I don’t want to be,” you answer. Another small truth leading up to a bigger one. “I’m trying not to be.”

“But you are.”

Shakily, you nod. “Yeah, I am. Things just aren’t… they’re not working, even though I’m trying, and I just.” Yoongi’s hand finds yours. It’s sweat-slick and cold. “Sometimes I think it’d be the kind thing to do. Put us both out of our misery.”

“Relationship euthanasia.”

“Yeah, kind of. It’s funny, you know. My vet always used to say you’d know it’s time when there’s more bad days than good, so I guess that really is the best way to put it.”

“What would that even look like?”

You want to say you don’t know. That you haven’t thought about it. Is this the call of the void again or is this for real? But the twilight makes you honest, so you tell the truth. “I would leave,” you say. “I wouldn’t be able to stay here, and I couldn’t ask you to go. It’s always been more your space than mine.”

Yoongi hums an agreement. Not cruel, it just makes sense. “I’m not tied to this place,” you continue. “This city. This state. I’m not sure I’d be able to stay, knowing you’re still here in a house that used to be ours without me in it. But sometimes I’m scared I wouldn’t be able to leave, either.”

“You could,” Yoongi answers. When you look up, he’s crying. Cheeks streaked with tears, eyes swollen. “You can do anything, you know? You’re so much stronger than me. You could do the hard thing and be okay. It’s part of the reason I’ve been so scared to have this conversation. You might leave, and you’d be okay, and I wouldn’t.”

“Yoongi...”

“I know you’re tired,” he says, voice laying his own exhaustion bare, “but I want you to be happy. So I will—I’ll let you go, if it’s what you want.” He’s crying harder now, staccato sobs wracking his body, making him smaller. “I don’t want to,” he whispers. “I don’t think I can, but I will. For you. If it’s what you need. If it’ll make you happy.”

You can’t stand it. “Yoongi, no.” You’re on your haunches, wiping furiously at his cheeks, thumbing beneath his eyes. “Being apart from you would never make me happy.”

You’re in his lap. He’s still too anxious to reach out and touch, maybe still a little scorned, and his hands lay at his sides. Twist into the duvet again. You want them on you. You always want Yoongi on you. “Tell me how to fix this,” he begs. “Tell me and I’ll do it, I promise, baby, please just tell me. I can’t—I don’t want to—”

“Yoongi.” He looks up, meets your eye. Moonlight suits him. “Something has to change, and you know that as well as I do. We can’t keep going like this, but just—just meet me in the middle, okay? Help me. Let’s start there.”

“Okay,” comes his automatic response. He’d agree to anything right now. Take any lifeline. And then the words sink in, and the sobs taper off but he’s still got the shakes, so you hold him. Wrap him in your arms and just let him breathe. “Okay,” he repeats. Measured. Considered.

Still standing, even after a hurricane.

i need you so much closer, so come on.

Morning comes, and with it—tenderness.

Also the mug of coffee on your nightstand, Yoongi’s hand splayed on the swell of your hip, the warmth that seeps into your skin. He’s typing away on his phone with the other, and he abandons it to pull you closer when you stir.

“Morning,” you murmur. Yoongi’s reply rumbles against your back.

“S’the afternoon, baby.”

Your laugh is abrupt, soft. Dissipates into the air as quickly as it’d arrived. “Okay. Good afternoon, then.”

Yoongi shuffles closer, adjusts so he’s pressed fully against your back. The hand that was on your hip moves beneath the hemline of your shirt. Explores the soft skin of your stomach, thumbs at the valleys between each rib. Yoongi’s touch is always laced with soft confidence; now, he still knows the way, still has the map memorized, but he’s reluctant.

You place your hand over his, move it higher. His thumb grazes the bottom swell of your breast and he sighs, presses impossibly closer still. “I love you,” he says quietly, like a secret. “Want you to know that.”

“I do,” you answer. He sighs again at your affirmation—more of an exhale, all relief—and drops his head to the crook of your neck. Presses a kiss there. The heat of him is almost disorienting, especially after being deprived of it for so long. “Haven’t been this close to you in months.”

He nips at your ear with his teeth. “I’ll make it up to you,” he says, and something stirs low in your belly. “Take a shower with me. I still smell like the bar.”

You snort. “Very sexy. Top tier dirty talk.”

He presses another kiss beneath your ear. “Please?”

“Let me drink some coffee first. I’m barely awake.” When you roll onto your side, Yoongi looks small, on the verge of dejection. Soft. You can’t help but smile. Can’t help but reach out to smooth the furrow between his brows, kiss away his pout. “I’ll be there, I promise. Give me five minutes.”

He wants to push it, you can tell, but he just says okay, baby. Presses one final kiss to your forehead before he’s gone, before the sound of bare feet on hardwood returns, before you hear the shower turn on, Yoongi’s low hum as he patters around and talks to himself.

You sit up and take stock. Your eyes are sore, head feels like it’s been split in two, but your heart feels… lighter. Scabbed over. Another battle fought and won, and even though the war isn’t over, you feel cautiously optimistic. Better than you have in a while, and you’re smiling when you press the coffee mug to your lips. Still warm, so Yoongi hasn’t been awake much longer than you. You wonder how many cups he’s already had, if he drank them black.

Half your cup is gone before Yoongi starts yelling from the en suite, complaining loudly that he’s cold and lonely, to hurry up. That he’s going to use all the hot water out of spite, but what if it gets too hot, what if he perishes in here and you have to live the rest of your life overcome with guilt. If it’s too hot, wouldn’t I perish too? you call back. Yoongi’s responding silence is so loud, but you fill it with a wild cackle.

“I’m gonna use all the nice shampoo!” he yells, but you’re already in the bathroom.

“And you’re gonna pay to replace it,” you retort, and he’s so caught off-guard that you’re there that he screams, drops a bottle on his foot, screams again. Up and off goes your t-shirt—Yoongi’s; smells like him and not a bar—and then you’re peeling off your underwear, tossing everything in the hamper. Into the shower. You reach out and touch Yoongi just so he knows you’re there even though he already does, but you press a kiss between his shoulder blades all the same. “You okay?”

“Fine,” he grumbles, all embarrassment.

Yoongi had insisted on a large shower. Something big enough for the both of you to fit in, and he’d blushed furiously when talking about it, but it was never anything sexual. You’d tried shower sex once, back in that shitty Silver Lake apartment, and never bothered again. But Yoongi craved the intimacy of showering together, the vulnerability, and over time you found it almost lonesome to shower by yourself.

So when he says, “Come here,” there’s enough space to maneuver beneath the spray, warm and not perishable-hot, and stand beside him. Enough space for Yoongi to rake his hands through your hair, get the strands wet; enough space to reach back for the nice shampoo he didn’t use all of; enough space for him to lather it in his hands and massage it into your scalp. A practiced song and dance. Something Yoongi could never forget the steps of.

Rinsed out, down the drain. Yoongi works in the conditioner next, brushes it through with his fingers, presses a kiss to your shoulder. “I was talking to Jin,” he says, and your mind is blank for a second. Then—when you woke up and he was on his phone. “About the cabin.”

“The one in Oakhurst?”

Yoongi nods. Turns you around so your back is to the spray, facing him. Lets the water rinse the conditioner away, too, before he’s placing a hand beneath your chin, tilting your face up. “Would you wanna go? Just us?”

“How long?”

A thumb settles in the contour of your cheek. Third finger traces the bridge of your nose. “However long you want. I—I don’t have anything, for a while. Could you work from there?”

You nod, a little delirious on how gentle Yoongi’s being with you. “Ye-yeah. Should be fine.”

You suck in a breath, shuddering as Yoongi brushes your rib cage when he reaches for the loofah. “D’you—” A pause. Time for you to swallow that familiar lump in your throat, keep from crying. “D’you think it’ll help?”

He pauses. Nods, so minutely you almost miss it. “I don’t know,” he admits, “but I want to try.”

“Me too.”

“Okay.” Presses his lips to yours. “However long you want, then.”

After he’s scrubbed the scars from your skin, the sadness, he wraps you in a warm towel. Stands behind you and wraps his arms around you as you both brush your teeth. Presses a kiss to your temple. Watches, so fond it makes you ache, as you dry your hair. Cracks little jokes about each product you use, says surely you don’t need all that, and you swat at him because you do. Because he uses just as many as you do, and sometimes uses yours. Tenderly takes the lotion from your hands and rubs it into your skin. His hands are firm when they run over your calves, your thighs, and your moan is quiet but it’s there, and you watch, mouth open, as Yoongi’s eyes flutter shut. As he takes a second to collect himself, breathe through it.

He just hasn’t heard that sound in a while, is all.

“Can I make it up to you now?” The words are spoken into your skin, pressed into the ditch of your knee, all warm breath skirting along your skin. “Show you how much I missed you? How much I love you?”

Goosebumps erupt all over. Dazed, you nod, and instead of words, you can feel the way Yoongi smirks. “Gonna take my time with you,” he promises. “Gonna take you apart. Would you like that, baby? Want me to take you apart?”

You meet your own eyes in the mirror, quick to forget where you are when Yoongi’s like this. You already look picked apart. Glassy eyes, mouth parted. The towel slips in your slackened grip and you dare another glance in the mirror, already knowing you’ll find Yoongi’s hungry gaze staring back, at full height.

“Look at you,” he chides, tone husky, and it’s not a shock that your husband wants you, that you’re both desirable and desired, but Yoongi is usually so unshakeable. Stable. Seeing him so affected from so little has you lightheaded, has your thighs clamping together unconsciously. “No.” Words firm. “Don’t hide from me.”

You reach back, still staring into the mirror, eyes still locked with Yoongi’s. Your hands tangle in his hair. Dark, longer than it’s been in so long, soft when you pull on it a little. Yoongi groans, buries his face in your neck, nips at the skin there. Through half-lidded eyes you watch as his hands roam your body. Feel the way he grows hard against the small of your back. Briefly, you think you might want it like this. Might want Yoongi to hike up the towel, bend you over the counter.

(Impersonal, because that’s what you’ve grown used to.)

But your hand finds his, slow their travel, lace your fingers together. “Not here.” He bites at your skin again and your whole body flushes when he begins to suck a bruise into your neck. “Yoo—Yoongi. No-not here.”

The bites slowly melt into something taunting, almost cruel. “You sound a little needy, baby.”

“I am.” You’re not embarrassed to admit it. It’s been so long you’re nearly aching with want, and you know Yoongi, know the kind of lover he is. The want is so strong you’re trembling with it. “Yoongi, please.”

Your words are hushed, meant only for the sanctity of this moment. Yoongi looks up long enough to catch your eye—long enough for the corners of his lips to pull into a smirk, to squeeze your hand tighter. “You don’t want it like this?” he asks, even though he knows your answer. But he still makes a show of it. Uses his free hand to grip the edge of your towel, drag it up and over your ass. Pauses to knead the flesh there before planting his hand in the center of your back and bending you over the counter. “Bet I could take you just like this, couldn’t I? Bet I’d just slide right in.”

The whine that escapes you is honestly pathetic, but you’re already so wound up, coiled tight, that you’re long past the point of caring. And you wonder, briefly, why you should care at all; why you care about the sounds you make, the way your body looks, when it’s Yoongi. When it’s your husband and not some random hookup. It’s that thought—this is my husband, my husband, my husband—that has your toes curling against the cold tile. It’s seeing the glint of his wedding band in the mirror.

“Do it here.” Your voice betrays your desperation. “Just—fuck, Yoongi, do it here, I don’t care.”

It’s maddening, the fact that he hasn’t even touched you yet. Not properly. But that’s the thing about space: sometimes it isn’t. Sometimes it’s a dying star, a supernova explosion, and you know what comes after. A black hole. Endless, inescapable, dark dark dark. That’s where the two of you are. That’s what all of this is, just a perpetual pull towards Yoongi, fated. Perhaps nothing more than gravity, but you let it reel you in nonetheless.

If the two of you are fated to go out the same way, the same dying star, you’ll go willingly.

“I’ll give it to you how you wan’ it,” Yoongi slurs. Leaves wet, open-mouthed kisses across your neck. “Get on the bed, baby, I’ll give you whatever you want.”

He’s on you before you even have a chance to drop the towel. Drapes his body over yours and presses you into the mattress, wraps one hand around your throat just to keep you there. Like you might leave. Like you might decide you don’t want this, don’t want him. As if you could. “Tell me what else you want,” he says, words unstable and wavering. He’s so fucking hard.

“Your mouth.”

He cock twitches at your words, your direction, and he smiles down at you in a way that makes you feel like you’re burning. “Yeah? That’s what you want?” A switch flips when you nod, chest heaving. Yoongi gets so serious, laser-focused, and it’s overwhelming when it’s pointed at you. You reach out, trace two fingers over his cheekbones just to make sure he’s real, and Yoongi captures them, presses a kiss to the center of your palm.

He’s not so gentle after that.

Yoongi moves slowly, intentionally, and you feel like prey, all part of the show. He trails his tongue down the column of your throat, the space between your breasts, your stomach. Spreads your legs and settles between them, places them over his shoulders. Stares. You can only imagine what you must look like: how wet, how open. His breath is so warm against you when he speaks. “You have to come on my tongue before you can have my cock.” He presses his thumb against your clit and circles slowly, and you can’t remember the last time he touched you like this. “Do you understand, baby?” A few months at least, maybe longer.

You nod. You’d agree to anything to feel Yoongi’s mouth on you, and he knows this, laughs before he leans in to lick a fat stripe against your slit. It’s instinct, the way your hands fly to his hair, trying to pull him closer. Having him here isn’t enough; you need to be consumed by him, need him to ruin you from the inside out, even though he already has. It’s also instinct, the way you know you belong to him, the way everyone who might come after him will pale in comparison.

As diligently as ever, Yoongi works you over. Eats you out so sloppily you can feel it pooling between your legs, seeping into the sheets below you, and the way he’s moaning around you makes you writhe. Has you gripping at the duvet, his hair, his hand. Has you rolling your hips against his face, groaning when Yoongi just takes it. When he says like that, yeah, so fucking hot, baby, love when you use me. When he reaches up to shove two fingers in your mouth and gives you no warning before he presses them inside.

“Fuck, fuck—”

Embarrassing, the way you can hear yourself, the way you can hear every wet pass of Yoongi’s tongue. Embarrassing that he’s only had his mouth on you for a few minutes and you’re already teetering on the edge. Embarrassing how hard Yoongi has to grip your hips to keep you where he wants you. Embarrassing that you welcome the bruises, want to be marked by him. “Are you close?” You think you nod. It’s hard to do much of anything when Yoongi crooks his fingers, presses firmly against your g-spot. “Is my beautiful girl gonna come from my fucking fingers? My mouth?”

(You are beautiful, but you don’t mean a thing to me.)

You try not to go there. You squeeze your eyes shut and try not to think about the words in that song, try to remember that’s all they are. If Yoongi had meant to hurt you, though, he’d hit his mark. Just words, you remind yourself, but they take you out of your body completely.

And it’s a funny thing, this almost-grief, because you’re hurting so badly it feels like you’re drowning, but with the pain comes guilt. What do you do when the person who cut you is the only one who can bandage it? What do you do with this pain when you want to talk it to death, make sense of it, but you don’t want to make Yoongi feel worse?

You hide—hide the pain, hide yourself.

You’ve gotten good at it over the last few months, too much practice, so you let Yoongi suction his lips around your clit and get you off just the way he said he would. You let him kiss you after, taste yourself on his tongue, and you think, This is what you deserve, I hope you taste like me forever, I hope it never washes away. You tug your lip between your teeth when you push him away and reach for his cock. Spit into your hand and say something dirty as you jerk him off, and Yoongi falls for it. Moans brokenly and thrusts into your hand, gets greedy just the way you had before reality humbled you.

“Ba-baby,” he whines, rutting a little harder, a little faster. Everyone gets selfish eventually. “Gotta fuck you.”

It should feel satisfying, seeing him desperate like this, seeing firsthand how badly he wants you, the fucked-out look on his face, but it all rings hollow. So you finish the show—push two fingers into yourself and coat Yoongi’s cock once more with your own slick—and roll over onto your stomach, arch your back the way you know he likes, and beg him to fuck you.

Yoongi falls for it. Yoongi pushes inside and groans, and you moan because you should and not because it’ll cover the sound of your sobs. Yoongi rolls his hips and lets whatever he thinks come out of his mouth, all filth, and it should do something for you but instead you’re wondering what he’d say to someone else. Would he fuck someone else like this? Would he be as desperate for it?

Eventually you forget to keep moaning but you don’t stop crying. You wonder if it should feel cathartic or if it’ll just feel like this forever. You think about New Year’s Eve and crying alone in the kitchen, how Yoongi hadn’t known. You think, I’m scared I could eventually hate him. I’m scared that line gets blurrier everyday.

“Baby?” Yoongi realizes this time.

You think, Another dying star.

“Did I hurt you?”

You think, Maybe I’ve already burned up. Maybe this is all that’s left.

“Baby, talk to me, please—”

You think, How many holes can you patch before it all sinks anyway?

“I’m sorry—”

You think, I’m scared of how much I want to hurt you. I’m scared I’m going to be angry forever.

Yoongi turns you gently onto your back. Takes a long, hard look at the tears rolling down your cheeks. Seems to commit them to memory. Starts crying, too, and it’s nothing more than vindication that doesn’t feel satisfying. Everything just tastes like ash: remnants of the supernova, the crash and burn, a thousand cuts.

Yoongi loves you. “Keep going,” you say, because you both need it. Not every problem can be fucked through, but you think this one can. “Please, keep going.”

Yoongi hesitates. Must find whatever he’s looking for as he stares down at you before he nods minutely and pushes back in. This is not the way you thought you’d heal, but there is only one way this is going to end, so you might as well. The first time was always going to be the hardest.

“I love you,” Yoongi says, and it’s raw. It’s real, the way he drops his head to the crook of your neck and cries. The way he finds your hand and laces your fingers together. His wedding band is cool against your skin. “I fucking love you. I’ll love you for the rest of my fucking life, you know that?”

He’s got something to prove. Wants to fuck devotion into you, wants to promise you impossible things. You wrap your legs around his waist and whimper, ask him to fuck you harder, but he doesn’t. Fucks you steady. “We’re gonna go to that cabin,” he rasps. “We’re gonna figure this out, and we’re gonna do all those things we talked about years ago. I’m gonna fuck you in every room in that place, just like this. I’m gonna make sure you know—even if you leave, you’re gonna know how much I love you.”

He’s going to be the end of you. “Yoongi.” He already is.

He moves your hand to your clit, tells you to make yourself come. Tells you he wants to see it. Fucks into you just a little faster, a little deeper, and you can feel the coil tightening again. Another supernova, you think as your body surrenders and shudders, and buries himself to the hilt and comes with you.

Sometimes space is a dying star, and sometimes it’s salvation.

and when i see you, i really see you upside down / but my brain knows better. it picks you up and turns you around.

There had been a time, years ago, when you and Yoongi would sit at your cramped kitchen table and pluck scraps of paper out of a bowl.

A lot had been left to chance back then. Probably too much, in hindsight, but that’s just the way life was. Carefree, a summer breeze, blissfully naive. The two of you were young and love-drunk and warm from the sun. Yoongi had worked endlessly—gigs for shit pay in shittier bars, overnights in his studio, fingers calloused from guitar strings and networking—to put a ring on your finger, nothing certain except how he felt about you, and that had been enough.

It’d gone like—

(“What’d you write on that one?” you ask, trying to peek over the bowl between you to see. Yoongi laughs, swats your hand away, says oh my god, go away, you’ll see if you pick it. “You’re no fun.”

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Yeah, I’m no fun because I don’t want to spoil a surprise.”

“But you know what’s on all of mine!” you argue, and you feel more in love with Yoongi than ever, picking a place out of a bowl, leaving things to fate.

It’s your pout that does it. You jut out your bottom lip and turn on the puppy dog eyes, and Yoongi folds like a bad hand. Yah, yah, don’t do that! he says, laughing harder than before, covering his eyes with those calloused hands. There are so many stories in those hands.

So Yoongi laughs and unfolds his scrap of paper and pushes it in your direction. Refuses to meet your eye as you read it over, and you can’t figure out why he’s embarrassed of it. “Jin’s cabin? It’s up in Oakhurst, right? That’s only a five hour drive.”

“For a honeymoon, though?” Yoongi’s question is quiet, small. Still embarrassed. “Isn’t it kind of lame?”

“No, it’s not lame. You’ve wanted to go to Yosemite forever.”

“Yeah, I’ve wanted to go. And it’s mostly just for Horsetail Fall—”

You pinch the bridge of your nose, sighing dramatically. “Yoongi. Put it in the bowl.”

“But—”

“Put it in the bowl.”

A flush creeps up his neck but he listens nonetheless, re-crumpling the paper and tossing it into the bowl. You’ll be picking soon, and you know the odds are slim, but you put a silent hope into the universe for Jin’s little cabin in Oakhurst to be the one, to be able to do this one thing for Yoongi when he’s been working himself to the bone to do so much for you.)

—and it hadn’t worked out, that cabin trip. The two of you had gone to Italy, Yoongi having been the one to pull it, and you rented scooters and ate gelato and soaked in the coastline. You’d dragged Yoongi on a tour of the catacombs and he spent hours at the Roman Forum, reading all the plaques and taking it all in.

You hadn’t felt like you’d missed out. Time hadn’t been wasted, and you still look back fondly at those pictures—the one of Yoongi with powdered sugar on his nose from too much sfogliatella, the two of you at Lake Como, you with all the stray cats at the Gatti di Roma, one in your lap, all gray, that you said had looked like Yoongi.

But, going to that little cabin in Oakhurst now, it feels a little like redemption. It feels like the universe is handing you the keys on a silver platter, saying, it’s okay to do it again; even if you got it right the first time, who says you can only do it once. So you take a day off for the drive and your boss gives you the week; you pack as many clothes as you can fit in your suitcase; you set an alarm for seven o’clock and try to stay grounded.

First, though, you have to survive Namjoon.

“How are things?” he asks, folding one endlessly long leg over the other.

Beside you, Yoongi radiates nervous energy. Jittery but not anxious. The kind of pent-up energy a runner might have: in position, awaiting the gunfire before a race. Composed to a fault, it’s not often you see him like this. Maybe right before an album drop or a big show, but never in marriage counseling.

So it doesn’t feel like a lie or lip service when you say, “Better,” and Namjoon and Yoongi both swallow down the same kind of smile.

“And why is that?”

“We’re going on a trip,” Yoongi says, and this surprises you, too. Protective, fiercely private Yoongi. “To, um. A friend’s place. Up in Oakhurst.”

Namjoon looks excited. “Near Yosemite,” he says. Not a question. “Is this a getaway or just a change of scenery?”

You look at Yoongi; Yoongi looks at you. “I’ll have to work some of the time, so I guess it’s a little bit of both,” you answer, “but it feels… good, exciting. I’m looking forward to it.”

“Yeah?”

You’re fidgeting, digging imaginary dirt from beneath your nails again as your cheeks warm. “Yeah. I know Yoongi has wanted to go for a long time, so I’m excited for that. I think… I think it’s important for him to do something like that, right now. Something big, you know? Or, something that feels big, I guess. I think it’ll be good for him, and—”

“It’ll be good for us.” Yoongi’s correction is gentle, dandelion-soft. He can’t look you in the eye as he says it, but he doesn’t need to. His neck is flushed and Namjoon’s expressive enough for all three of you. “Anything that’s good for me is good for us.”

If you’re stunned, Namjoon is shell shocked. It lasts all of five seconds before he’s coughing to cover his grin, jotting down notes like a mad professor, and it’s a little tooreminiscent of the way your parents had pushed you out the front door on your prom night—that same brand of giddy excitement, like they knew something you didn’t. But, Namjoon is a professional before anything else, so he simply asks, “How long are you going?”

“TBD,” Yoongi answers again.

“You’re able to take the time off?”

Right back to earth. Another sore point, because sometimes, like now, it’s easy to forget who you’re married to; easy to forget when you’re the pinnacle of American suburbia—standard nine-to-five, family health insurance plan, a maxed-out Roth IRA—and Yoongi is anything but. It’s easy to forget when your lives are so different. When Yoongi’s got songs and albums to write, for himself and everyone else, and shows and tours to plan, for himself and when someone else needs him as a fill-in, and you’re gearing up for another half-year spent alone at home.

Sure, it sucks sometimes, but getting to watch Yoongi live out his dreams tampers down all that negativity. When it’s two a.m. in Los Angeles but midday where he is and he sends you pictures of whatever he’s doing, what he’s eating, candids of his tourmates, all the sights and sounds. Yoongi’s doing exactly what he’s always wanted, what he’s meant to, and it’s okay.

What’s good for him is good for you, after all.

“I, uh—” He pauses, rubs at the back of his neck. The flush is still there. “I put a pause on the stand-in work for the rest of the year. Told everyone I wanted to focus on writing and producing and… stuff. Everything else. Getting my shit together.” You can hear it when he swallows, can see the slight tremor of his hands. Yoongi has never done well when he’s not working himself to the bone—when he has too much free time to spend in his own head. “And I can do that from anywhere, so.”

Namjoon catches your eye over the rim of his glasses. Seems to ask a question you’re not sure the answer to so you just stare back, and then his attention turns back to Yoongi. “When you say ‘stuff,’ what do you mean?”

“Well, I wound up here, didn’t I?”

From anyone else, it would sound snappy and bitter, but from Yoongi it’s just… self-deprecating, wounded, like it’s nothing more than a personal failure. Like Yoongi is the only reason the two of you are in marriage counseling and not a million little things the two of you have done. “We,” you correct, dandelion-soft just like Yoongi had been, and his head turns toward you so sharply you worry his neck is going to snap. “Don’t do that, Yoongi.”

He’s stock-still, back uncharacteristically ramrod straight, jaw dropped slightly. “Don’t take on the full burden of this. We wound up here. It’s okay to say that.”

Namjoon tries so hard to hide another smile that his dimples look more like craters.

i roll the window down and then begin to breathe in / the darkest country road and the strong scent of evergreen.

“Hi.”

Yoongi is slouched in the doorway of your office, beanie pulled down low. Strands of curls stick out of the bottom and you shoot him a smile, distracted from your task of packing up your work equipment. “Hi. What’s up?”

“Are you all packed?”

You shrug. “Just about. I don’t really have that much stuff. Just my laptop and some files.” You eye him skeptically, already sensing where this is going. “Are you?”

Your husband pouts, and it’s such a pathetic expression that you swear you can feel your heart grow three sizes. “In my defense—”

“Oh my god.” You try to look stern, but a laugh bubbles out of you anyway. “Why do you always do this?”

“I don’t like packing,” he whines. “And I need help.”

“With what?”

“Some of my production stuff.” He pouts deeper, sends you an impressive pair of puppy dog eyes. “Please help me. You’re my only hope.”

“How much are you bringing?”

“Not that much,” he answers in a way that sounds like a promise. “I wanted to bring the Yamaha because the cabin has that screened in porch and I think the acoustics could be really interesting in there, but it’s really heavy—”

You sigh. Look down at your laptop and stack of paperwork and wireless mouse and sigh again, then nod your agreement, because it’s not the first time you’ve helped Yoongi lug his gear in and out of your place and it won’t be the last. You’ve all but perfected it by now.

The car looks more like you’re moving than going on a trip. Your neighbor’s such a shithead you’re surprised he hasn’t poked his head out by now and asked when the house is getting listed so he can buy it and flip it for three times the price. Another brainless capitalist shill, Yoongi always says, and you laugh to yourself as you force another duffel bag of god-knows-what into the trunk. And we’re his neighbors, so what does that say about us? you always reply.

It takes the better part of twenty minutes, but then it’s done and you’re left with sore arms and a sweaty brow. Yoongi looks like the weight of the world’s been lifted from his shoulders rather than his hefty digital piano, and the thankful smile he shoots at you is worth any price.

“Do you need help with anything?” he asks, and you shake your head.

“No,” you respond, picking up the stack of files only to drop them back down on your desk. “It’s really just my laptop and this stuff. I’m fine; go do whatever it is you’ve got left to do. I’ll take care of it.”

There’s a look Yoongi gets when he’s laser-focused. Intense, unmistakeable, intimidating, especially when it’s trained on you. That’s how he’s looking at you now: looking at the sheen of sweat on your skin, the way your tongue runs along your bottom lip, your mussed-up hair. Both of you know exactly what he wants, and it drives you a little crazy when he’s shameless like this. When he’s not shy about looking, about wanting.

So Yoongi bends you over your desk and fucks you right there, right in your office in front of the street-side window. It’s hazy and primal but he takes his time, does and says exactly what he wants, has you a trembling, incoherent mess in record time, and it works. You come so hard you don’t think about the song, you don’t cry, and those threads of optimism start weaving something you can hold in your hands.

—

“Shut it off,” Yoongi slurs, voice deep and raspy from sleep.

You snort, turning off your alarm, seven a.m. sharp, and roll over to press a kiss to his forehead. “Wake up, sleepyhead, I got breakfast.”

He opens one eye, looks at you questioningly with it, blinks in confusion. “How long have you been up?”

“A while. Now, come on, I ordered your favorite.”

That piques his attention. “The breakfast sandwich?” You nod. “And the little strudels?” You nod again. “Coffee, too?”

You grab the plastic cup and shake it, rattling the ice. “One large iced Americano, at the ready. I even got you one of those bottled horchata cold brews for the road, even though you swear you don’t like them.”

“They’re too sweet,” Yoongi answers. It might be early, but apparently not early enough to not lie right through his teeth.

You glare. “You steal mine every time I order one.”

“That’s not true,” he grumbles, accusations forgotten as he spots the greasy takeout bag. “I should brush my teeth first,” he whines, looking agonized. “I should, right?”

“Says who?”

“I don’t know. The universe or whatever.”

You laugh. Watch, fond, as he drags himself out of bed and into the bathroom. Watch, even more fond, as he returns with a little toothpaste on the corner of his mouth that you thumb away. Watch, hopelessly and forever endeared, as he buries himself back under the duvet, pulls it up and over his nose. You can see the way he’s pouting from his eyes alone, and he starts whining about the cold, how early it is, how the only thing that’ll cure him is a kiss.

Which you give. Freely, without thought.

(And the two of you barely make it to Santa Clarita before Yoongi cracks open the cold brew he didn’t want. Doesn’t say a word about it being too sweet, just sits quietly in the passenger seat, half asleep, as he scrolls through his playlists. Queues up something soft, easy to listen to, and talks your ear off about Jeff Beck when one of his songs comes on.

Beck’s Bolero, which is not as soft and easy as the songs that played before it, but it makes Yoongi’s eyes light up. Has him seemingly speaking in tongues as he spits guitar terms to you, half of Jeff Beck’s life story interwoven with endless praise and awe, all the while he drinks his horchata cold brew and doesn’t say a word about it being too sweet.

You want to listen to him for the rest of your life.)

—

Oakhurst is small.

Only two traffic lights before you reach the road Seokjin’s cabin is on—a sharp right turn off the main highway, an acute angle, a steep decline. You’re glad you’re doing this in early March and not the dead of winter. Doubly glad you’d ignored the judgmental stare Yoongi had given you at the car dealership when you’d insisted on an SUV, all-wheel-drive.

You’d know the cabin was Jin’s even without an address. Baby blue exterior, pink front door. Blends in but still manages to stick out, much like the man himself. More like a bungalow, maybe. Looks, from the outside, like the kind of place that might be good for starting over. Someplace small and unassuming—someplace with a screened-in porch with two rocking chairs. A place where you can drink coffee. Decompress from the city. A place where the only thing you know is Yoongi, so he’s your focus.

A place that makes you smile.

You kill the engine. Just sit in the silence for a moment, hesitant to wake up Yoongi. Unsure, honestly, how he’d slept through the last leg of the trip, all the hairpin turns and uneven roads, but you close the car door gently and punch in the lock code for the house and lug in everything except Yoongi’s gear and let him sleep. Then, when he stirs awake, looking confused and a little lost, you press a soft kiss to the corner of his mouth and gesture theatrically at the baby blue bungalow with the pink door and say, “Surprise! We’re here!” even though it’s not a surprise.

Yoongi laughs anyway.

There isn’t much to unpack, nor is there much space to put it. Only a closet in each of the bedrooms, so you dump everything out of your suitcase and thread your clothes through velvet hangers. Laugh at the thought of Yoongi doing no such thing—of Yoongi living out of his luggage for the next couple weeks, everything wrinkled and looking lived-in.

He comes and finds you, places a hand on your hip as he asks for the car keys, says he’s going to the store. Seokjin had stocked the pantry, but he wants to get fresh stuff, and you know that means he’s going to come back with more coffee than groceries. So you just nod, say okay, ask if he’d like you to unpack and put away his clothes. His nose scrunches; you hide your smile and leave it alone.

When he’s gone, you crack a window in the living room to air out the lingering emptiness. Suck in a mouthful of fresh air that seems to sting your lungs, all evergreen. There’s still so much to do, and you should probably stretch your legs after so long in the car, but the temptation to sink into the couch is strong. Seokjin’s got a soft blanket thrown over the back that you arrange over your legs, and then you’re asleep, some stupid paranormal show playing on the television to greet Yoongi whenever he gets back.

You dream of forgiveness, endless sprawling mountains, and the smell of coffee.

the rhythm of my footsteps crossing flatlands to your door / have been silenced forevermore. and the distance is quite simply much too far for me to row. it seems farther than ever before.

There’s a dive bar up the highway that does karaoke on Friday nights. You crack a joke about going.

“Fat chance,” Yoongi answers. He’s driving this time, and his hands are gripping the steering wheel so tight his knuckles have gone purple-white.

It shouldn’t mean anything. It doesn’t. Yoongi isn’t a dive bar karaoke kind of guy anymore. Left those days back in college, where you were suffering through your economics courses at USC and barely had two nickels to rub together. Yoongi would play open mics during the week just to cover the bus fare for the two of you to go into Koreatown on Fridays—enough to cover a noraebang for an hour, just to sing some girl group song horribly off-pitch just to make you laugh.

So it shouldn’t sting when Yoongi scoffs and says fat chance about singing karaoke at the dive bar when you drive past it, because Yoongi isn’t a dive bar karaoke kind of guy anymore. Now he’s the kind of guy who gets up on a stage and sings songs to thousands of people. They don’t laugh; they take pictures and videos and sing along to words he wrote, so it shouldn’t sting, and you try not to let it.

Instead, you focus on the blur of scenery: all the greens and browns; whites and deep grays from all the trees that have burned; the blue of the endless sky; the color of the asphalt, the edge of the world, like you could tip right over and disappear, nothing beyond the margins. Yoongi drives the thirty minutes to the park and it doesn’t sting, and you wonder if it’s just because it doesn’t or if it’s because you’re numb.

—

Yosemite is hard to put into words.

You feel small, wrapped in the expanse of the mountains, in this ancient nature that has existed long before you and will persist long after you’re gone. Maybe insignificant is a better word for it, because there’s so much to see—so much that’s known and unknown—and it feels like counting grains of sand. Feels like you could never possibly catch up.

So you sit on the ledge of an overlook and just exist. You don’t watch Yoongi take pictures on an old point and shoot, the one he’d ordered from Japan, because this is just for you. Whatever happens between you and Yoongi, these memories will only belong to you, and you don’t want to override something that’s happy with something that could eventually be sad.

The two of you get back in the car. The drive to Yosemite Village is slow, made even slower when you pass a bunch of cars pulled over. There, about thirty feet from the road, is a baby bear and a crowd. There’s a woman standing too close in order to take a picture and ten more people screaming at her for it. Yoongi looks awestruck when you catch his eye.

“I’ve never seen a bear before,” he says, and you nod. Neither have you.

Maybe you were a little stung before, about the karaoke, even though it’s stupid. But the fact that you and Yoongi have been together for so long and still manage to see new things together eases it a little. Plants a tiny, hopeful little seed.

All you have to do is water it.

—

The weather in the village is bitter cold.

Both of you are wrapped up tight, only your noses peeking out from between the layers of your scarves, tinged pink. Yoongi had wanted to go to Mirror Lake; didn’t seem at all deterred when he found out the shuttles were only doing basic routes so the two of you would have to follow the trail from the shuttle stop. Just under two miles. Hadn’t seemed so bad at the time, but now your lungs ache.

Snow and ice cover most of the lake. It isn’t as reflective as it’s known for, but you’re glad to experience it nonetheless. The sand crunches beneath your boots as you look for a log to sit on, the chill seeping through your clothing as you rummage through your backpack for a protein bar. Yoongi’s off taking pictures again, and it’s another moment you’re content to sit in the quiet.

Gives you time to take stock, figure out how you’re feeling. Instinct wants to say better, but you know it’s wishful thinking. Immature. The tendrils of hurt are still wrapped around your heart, and it’s only been a few days. Not enough time to hack them away. But you’re… at ease. For the first time in a while, it feels like you can breathe, and doing so doesn’t make you feel heavy, doesn’t weigh you down with guilt. Things might not be okay right now, not all the way, but you think your compass is finally pointed in the right direction.

Your husband joins you once he’s done. Doesn’t say anything, just sits beside you on the log and accepts when you offer him half of your protein bar. He’s got a nervous energy about him, like there’s something he wants to say but can’t figure out how to, and that feels familiar. That feels like the status quo. Two people who love each other but can’t figure out how to talk to one another.

So you say, “It’s gorgeous here,” and hope it’s enough. You’re not going to push him if he doesn’t want to talk, but it feels necessary to extend an olive branch. It feels necessary to try.

“It is,” Yoongi agrees. Rubs his hands together. Watches his breath dissipate in front of him. “It feels different.”

“What do you mean?”

A bird lands on a branch in front of you. Orange chest, vibrant blue on top; striking against the dreary backdrop of winter. You watch as it ruffles its feathers, shakes off the snow, and Yoongi cocks his head to the side. A guy who knows a little about a lot, full of knowledge, so you aren’t surprised when he says, “That’s a western bluebird.”

You hum an acknowledgment, because you know what it means to see a bluebird. You know the symbolism, but it feels a little too heavy to bear right now. “Pretty.”

“Yeah.” Then he’s sucking in a breath. Says, “There’s a ramen spot in Mariposa, if you’d wanna go there for dinner.”

It’s not what you were expecting him to say, but you nod anyway. “Sure. Whatever you want.”

Yoongi finally turns to you, then. Raises an eyebrow in question. “But is it what you want?”

“It’s just dinner,” you shrug. “Something warm will be nice after this.”

That nervous energy amplifies. Turns all those words clearly biting at the back of his teeth into a tangible thing. “Something warm—yeah, okay. Sounds good. They have matcha cheesecake.” He smiles, like he doesn’t want to but can’t help himself. “Seemed like something you’d like.”

Two things strike you, then: that your husband is always centering you in his world, even when the two of you are like this, and how badly it hurts that you can’t seem to talk to one another. Because you aren’t taking pictures with him because they might turn out sad, and Yoongi is choosing restaurants because they have matcha cheesecake.

And to hell with that, you think. Yoongi is your husband, and if you can’t talk to him then who can you talk to? So you sigh, say, “Look at me, Yoongi,” and you know there’s a fragment of surprise evident on your face when he listens. You know there’s a fragment of sadness on yours when you take in how exhausted he looks. Almost defeated. “Why can’t we seem to talk to one another?”

It must be what he was working up the courage to say, because his shoulders sag immediately. “I don’t know,” he admits. “I’m trying, but it’s just… I don’t know. Sometimes I’m scared I’m gonna say the wrong thing and that’s gonna be it.”

Your brows pinch. “Okay,” you say, because sometimes you aren’t easy to talk to. Sometimes you take things too personally, sort of revel in the hurt. You understand hesitation. “I… want to fix that. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t talk to me.”

Yoongi nods. “Yeah,” he eventually answers. “I do, too. We’re not really gonna fix anything unless we can talk to each other.”

“Yeah, true.” The bluebird chirps from its spot in the tree. Stares down at the two of you with these jerky little tilts of its head. “Do you think that’s our problem? How it got… like this.”

“I don’t know, baby,” he says again, and you immediately want to push back on it. I don’t know doesn’t tell you anything. Doesn’t tell you how to fix it, how not to let it get this bad again. But then he says, “It could’ve been anything, you know? A million things. I think—I know that doesn’t help you, but for me, it’s less important how and why we got here because that’s… gone. I can’t change it, and the more I dwell on it the more I spiral, so I’m trying not to do that.”

A stuttered exhale. “I haven’t felt present in a long time and I guess it just compounded. Like, once I realized something was wrong, it felt like I’d left it too long to try and do something about it. I knew you were hurt, and instead of trying to fix it, I’d just think, of course you hurt her, because you’re good at that.”

“That’s what you think?”

“Sometimes.” You reach over and take his hand, barely able to slot your fingers together with the thickness of your gloves. “I know I explained it to you before, but the song… it wasn’t honesty, it was self-destruction. Because I thought if all I do is hurt you, then you should be with someone who doesn’t do that. Someone who knows what they have and is able to hang onto it.” He hangs his head, guilt-stricken. “I don’t know why I wrote it. Call of the void shit, I guess, like I told you. I knew the whole time it was a bad idea. I just thought… maybe you’d hear it and do what I couldn’t.”

“Leave?”

He laughs, all derision. “Yeah. Stupid, isn’t it? I’m scared to death that you’ll leave me, so I tried to speed up the process.”

You sit with his words for a minute. “I don’t think it’s stupid, Yoongi. Can I tell you what I think? I think you feel like you deserve to be a little sad, like some kind of artist’s curse. I think you think you need to feel tortured in order to create, and I think you’ve appointed yourself the arbiter of my happiness, so you see me being human as a failure on your part. And I think I made a very smart choice when I was twenty-one years old, because I think you’ve taken my heart and kept it safe all these years.

“It… does matter to me, how we got here,” you continue, “because if I don’t know why, I’m scared it’ll happen again. But you told me I need to give you more credit, and that goes both ways. I know I can be a bastard, so I’m going to be selfish and ask for patience, and I’m going to give you the same. Just… please believe me when I say I’m not going anywhere. Not as long as we’re both gonna try to fix this.”

Yoongi stays quiet. Sticks out his pinky, and you hook yours around it.

(You know what it means to see a bluebird. Remember reading about it once, back when you were desperate to find meaning in everything. Right after a time of tremendous difficulty, the bluebird comes to bring good fortune in all things such as love, healing, and happiness.)

and together there in a shroud of frost, the mountain air / began to pass through every pane of weathered glass / and i held you closer than anyone would ever get.

Yoongi’s birthday is soon.

Four days, to be exact. The two of you will be celebrating in Jin’s cabin in Oakhurst, surrounded by nature and a town still foreign to you, Yoongi’s music gear scattered all around like a treasure hunt. Follow the cables until you find him, hunched in front of a glowing computer screen, massive headphones shoved over his ears as he gets absorbed into his own world, strumming his guitar all the while.

You think thirty will look good on him.

The weather’s still mild, still colder than you’re used to, but the breeze feels nice when you open the small windows in the kitchen and let it blow through. It feels nice when you run to the grocery store and stand in the foreign aisles, staring at all the ingredients you’ll need to bake a cake. You haven’t done it in ages; since Yoongi’s twenty-sixth, you think. Almond with chantilly cream. It had taken you ages because the cream kept splitting, and you insisted on meticulously arranging little strawberry slices between the layers, but Yoongi had loved it so much it hadn’t felt like work at all.

So you grab what you need and some things you don’t and you feel as light as the breeze on the drive back to the cabin. You make a last-second decision to stop at the donut shop because it closes in the afternoon and you never catch it when it’s open. Two blueberry old fashioneds, a large Americano for Yoongi, and a mocha iced coffee for yourself. Six dollars, and the woman behind the counter is kind.

“What’s that?” Yoongi asks when you place the coffee and donut on his makeshift desk. The headphones are looped around his neck.

You click your tongue, all sugar. “What does it look like?”

“This looks like a donut and an Americano. What’s in the bag, though?”

“I went to the grocery store.”

“For what?” he pouts. “I was just there!”

That pout fades when you press a kiss to the top of his head. “Don’t pout. I picked up stuff for your birthday cake.”

“My birth—” he begins, seemingly offended by the mere thought of his birthday and that it might be soon, and then he looks at the date on his computer and mumbles an, oh shit. “You’re baking me a cake?”

“Yeah, I thought it’d be nice.”

He tries to peer into the bag. “What kind?” You swat him away.

“It’s a surprise,” you deadpan.

“But I saw strawberries in there.”

“No you didn’t. Now, eat your donut and get back to work.”

Yoongi pouts again. Really exaggerates it. “I’m really stuck on this bit. I might need a kiss for good luck.”

As you press a kiss to his lips, you think you might give him whatever he wants.

—

Yoongi spends the morning of his birthday tucked in bed.

You spend the morning of Yoongi’s birthday beneath the duvet, hands roaming every inch of your husband’s body. Thumbs digging into the muscles of his calves, sore from the overuse they’ve suffered the last few days. Nails grazing the sensitive skin of his biceps, his stomach, the insides of his thighs. Lips pressing open-mouthed kisses to his forehead, his temple, his neck, down his chest, the jut of both hip bones. And then, once he’s whining and writhing and just on the verge of begging, you spend the morning of Yoongi’s birthday making him come with your mouth.

He spends the early afternoon in his makeshift studio with a cup of coffee. Answers a couple emails. Calls his parents. Messes around on Cubase. Fixes the two of you a quick lunch and says he might want to wander around town for a little bit. Check out the antique store down the street, maybe spend a few hours in the park with his guitar, get some fresh air. Thirty feels weird, he says, and you’re anchored to your laptop at the small dining room table, so you just say okay, I’ll see you later for dinner. There’s a crooked smile on Yoongi’s face as he hikes the gig bag over his shoulder, and then he’s gone.

You: He just left. Coast is clear.

Seokjin: Thank fuck, I’ve been sitting at this Starbucks for 500 hours

You: No you haven’t

Seokjin: 499 hours*

When he arrives, Seokjin blows right by you and locks himself in the bathroom. You know I refuse to use public restrooms, he says after, slinging his arm around your shoulders. He’s not a hugger, so it’s the closest you’re going to get to one.

“My car reeks of kimchi and soup,” he says, dropping a bag of groceries in front of the refrigerator. “Won’t be able to get that smell out for weeks, probably.”

“Thank you for your sacrifice,” you intone. “You’re a god amongst men, Kim Seokjin.”

It’d been your idea. Wanted Yoongi to ring in his thirtieth birthday surrounded by as much love as possible, and a cabin-bungalow nearly five hours away from home wasn’t especially opulent. Not to mention Yoongi had been on tour the last two years—spent twenty-eight and nine in grimy venues in Texas and Birmingham, respectively—and the less said about 2020 the better.

So Seokjin had fucked off from his cushy job for the day and made the drive from San Francisco. Made the miyeokguk and myeongnan-jeot himself, and had whined when you told him you already bought the ingredients for a cake because I was gonna pick up mujigae-tteok, to which you replied, pick it up anyway.

Now he’s standing in the small kitchen of his own small bungalow, and you’ve got a one-thirty meeting so you can’t help, but he’s determined to make gyeran mari anyway, even if it inconveniences you. “Maybe I should make it closer to when he’ll be back?”

“Up to you,” you shrug. “You could also stand on the side of the road and resell all those eggs for ten times the price.”

He just sends you A Look.

—

You watch through the small window above the kitchen sink as Yoongi returns just after six, cheeks pink from the wind, arms full of goodies.

“Hey,” he says, kicking his boots off on the porch, “is that—”

“SURPRISE!”

Seokjin’s scream is so shrill you think you black out for a second. Nearly topple over from your spot in front of the island, frosting knife poised to strike. Yoongi’s still out on the porch, and there’s a terrible crash that can only be him startling and knocking into one of the rocking chairs. He’ll appear any second now, brows pinched, and go is that Seokjin? and once he confirms it is, in fact, Seokjin, he’ll start yell—

“Jesus Christ,” he grumbles, appearing in the doorway. Brows pinched. “I was gonna ask if that’s Seokjin’s car outside, but now I don’t fucking need to.”

Seokjin tuts, ladles another bowl full of miyeokguk. “Is that any way to speak to your elders? Now, get in here and sit down. It’s not breakfast, but it’ll have to do.”

Yoongi grumbles the entire time, but you see the way the flush deepens on his cheeks. The way he’s pleased to be fussed over, to have you and Seokjin in the same room as him. Pleased to be celebrating thirty surrounded by people who love him, people he loves in turn.

“Did you call your mother?” Seokjin asks, setting the bowl in front of him. He jokingly tucks a napkin into the front of Yoongi’s shirt.

“Of course I called my mother.” Yoongi rolls his eyes. “Are you stupid? It’s not my first day being Korean.”

“That’s correct! It’s your 10,950th day being Korean.”

“How did you—”

“I knew you would say that so I looked up how many days are in thirty years. Now, is your lovely wife done with the cake?”

You are, just about. Just a few more slices of strawberry to place on top, and you take a step back once you do so. Admire your hard work. Send up a quick thanks that the cream hadn’t split this time. Seokjin and Yoongi are still bickering—

(“Did you make the miyeokguk last night?”

“I’m offended, Yoongi. Of course I made it last night, the broth needs time to develop! It’s not my first day being Korean, either!”

“No, it’s your ten billionth, you decrepit bitch.”)

—and your heart feels full. Content. You see Yoongi laughing, all gums, and feel untethered. Like any second now your ribs are going to crack apart and give way, let your heart tumble right out of your body. Because it belongs next to Yoongi, always. Because it wants to be next to Yoongi.

So you finish the cake and set it aside. Sit down at the place Seokjin set for you, right next to your husband, whose hand immediately goes to your knee; who immediately turns and smiles at you, even though Seokjin is still squawking in the background. Yah, Yoongi, compliment the soup! Tell me how good it is! Yoongi doesn’t, because he’s still smiling, can’t look away from you, and you swear you can hear a fissure forming, except this one doesn’t hurt.

This one doesn’t hurt at all.

—

Yoongi is sufficiently drunk by nine.

That traitorous combination of alcohol and sugar. A shot of soju, a bite of cake, some mujigae-tteok. Seokjin’s endless chatter as background noise. Yoongi’s hand still on your knee, warm warm warm. Liquor loosens him up a little, has him bashful, chin tucked to his chest, when he offhandedly mentions Namjoon and Seokjin says who’s this Namjoon, and Yoongi says he’s our marriage counselor. Seokjin looks to you, then. Connects some dots.

Says, “Ah, Yoongi, did you eat your tteokguk on Seollal? No? See, this is why things are hard right now, because you didn’t eat your tteokguk. It’s good luck, that’s why you eat it,” because it’s easiest to get through to Yoongi, to let him know he’s okay, when you’re scolding him a little. When you treat it kind of like a joke. No big deal.

And Seokjin follows that up with, “How are you settling in here?” when what he really wants to know is are things better, are the two of you doing okay. Yoongi grumbles again, barely coherent at his current level of inebriation, and Seokjin says, “Ah, I bet not well, huh? There’s just the one Starbucks, can’t find your bougie pour-over, LA coffee here, can you? Do they even have oat milk? Are you—”

“It’s still California,” Yoongi argues, “there’s fucking oat milk everywhere. Hey, hyung, did you—did you know there’s, like, the tree nut milk orchard near here? Not far. Close by. I could drive to see the al-almonds.”

“Tree nut milk,” Seokjin deadpans. “You know, Yoongi, I did not know that. Why don’t you tell me all about it.”

—

By eleven, Seokjin is passed out on the couch.

By eleven-ten, Yoongi has convinced you to lay in the grass with him. A minute later he’s staring up at the sky, making wishes on superstitions. His breath vaporizes in the cold, and he’s not wearing a jacket, but he’s still flushed from the alcohol, feels invincible.

“Think the edible’s hitting me.” He laughs, short and raspy, and he doesn’t seem to care that the grass is wet with dew. Doesn’t care that it’s in his hair, seeping through his clothes. “What’s your favorite one of those?”

He’s pointing at the stars, wants to know your favorite constellation. All of them, you want to say, following his line of sight. Because they’re all different. All meaningful in different ways. All have their own story. Instead, you roll your head to the side, take in Yoongi’s profile. Say, “You’re my favorite,” and laugh at how flustered he gets, laugh at his gravelly protests.

“Yah, you can-can’t say that,” he whines. “That’s so greasy, you can’t say that, it doesn’t count. Give me a real ans—”

“Then why are you smiling?” You laugh as he grows even more thunderstruck, completely caught-out, and it’s nearing midnight but it does nothing to hide the blush creeping down his neck, tingeing the tips of his ears. “You’re so red. That’s exactly what you wanted me to say, you absolute—”

“Real answer, please.”

You decide to take pity on him. Poor thing, can barely look you in the eye because of one terrible pick-up line. “Fine. Pisces.”

His responding groan is so loud you have to slap your hand over his mouth. The grass is so cold but Yoongi’s laughter, the way his shoulders shake with it, makes you warm. “You’re just saying that,” he says once you remove your hand.

“Am not. Ask me why.”

“Okay. Why?”

“Because you’re a Pisces, first of all—”

“Oh my god, here we fuckin’ go—”

“—but I just like the myth. Aphrodite and Eros transformed themselves into fish to escape Typhon, and tied themselves together with rope so they wouldn’t lose one another.” You sigh, watch your breath dissipate into the dark. “I don’t know. I like to think… I don’t believe in soulmates, but I like to think some people are meant to tie themselves together. Some people aren’t meant to be apart.”

There’s a quiet little oh, and then there’s silence. Just the distant sounds of the highway, a dog howling, and, if you listen closely enough, Seokjin’s snoring from inside. Yoongi finds your hand, brings it to his mouth to press a kiss to the back of it, and he’s oddly quiet. Contemplative, maybe. Usually gets a couple drinks in him and starts talking your ear off, but this is nice, too. It’s nice to just exist in the silence alongside someone else.

“Do you know the myth about Eurydice and Orpheus?” he finally asks, and you nod, suddenly understanding why Yoongi doesn’t care that his hair is wet. So inconsequential to this moment where you can exist in the silence alongside someone else. “I was thinking about it today.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I think… I think I’d fuck it up. I think I’d look back. And I think you wouldn’t.” He sighs, and the weight of the world expels alongside it. “What you said about Aphrodite and Eros, that some people are meant to be tied together—if I couldn’t hear you, or touch you… That’s what you are for me, you know? An anchor. The first time I read it, it made me so fuckin’ angry, like why can’t this guy just listen, if he loves her that much wouldn’t he listen, but… I dunno. I think I get it.

“I’m so scared all the time that one day I’m gonna look back and you won’t be there anymore. What would I even do? Baby, what would I do? Sometimes I’m fuckin’ terrified that I don’t think I could have that kind of faith in anything, and I’m finally gonna make it to the end of this cave and they’re gonna lay all my betrayals at my feet.”

Midnight finds you still staring up at the sky, hair wet, breath tangible, wondering how you can be both an anchor and an albatross.

—

(In the morning, Seokjin makes tteokguk and ladles extra into Yoongi’s bowl.)

i'm reaching for the phone to call at 7:03, and on your machine / i slur a plea for you to come home, but i know it's too late / and i should have given you a reason to stay.

The thing about grief is that it’s indiscriminate.

Because it has no context. Grief doesn’t know that things are better, doesn’t know that the two of you have stuck to your appointments with Namjoon and are able to talk honestly; doesn’t know that laughing feels lighter, easier; doesn’t know that guilt isn’t weighing you down as heavy. So it feels a lot like treading water, and sometimes you’re able to float and sometimes you slip beneath the waves, struggle to breathe.

And it’s stupid, you think, that you can disappear too far into your mind to the place where everything feels bad. Where progress is meaningless. Where there’s still you and Yoongi and a crumbling marriage. Where the only words ringing in your ears aren’t I love you, but you are beautiful but you don't mean a thing to me. Just like last time. Regression.

There are only so many distractions. Work helps, because you can’t focus on how shitty you feel—how scared you are—when your boss is on your ass about deadlines. The antique store in town helps, too, though you must’ve worn a pattern into the floors by now, but you can’t help it. It’s nice to hear the stones crunching under the tires when you pull into the parking lot; nice to laugh at the giant Sasquatch outside and greet them like a friend; nostalgic to breathe in the scent of old stuff—belongings that were once well-loved, now free to be loved by someone else.

Grief doesn’t care that you’re sad and Yoongi has that spark in his eyes.

But Yoongi is smart. Wickedly perceptive. Knows there’s something bothering you long before you gather the courage to say it, because it feels wrong to dim that spark, take it away, so he lets you sit with it. Lets you take your time, and that endless patience just makes you feel worse. Makes you think, he deserves better. Makes you think, what’s the point of any of this. Makes you angry, because things aren’t fixed but they’re better, and why can’t everything hurt all at once instead of incrementally.

And, just like always, you can only tread water for so long, stave off the inevitable.

Because Yoongi’s giving you time but when you feel like this, everything reads like an attack. Feels like disregard and indifference. What you want is unfair, and you know it, because you want Yoongi to be able to reach into your mind and see everything that’s turned necrotic. You want him to know how to fix it without having to talk about it, because talking about it makes you feel guilty. How many times can you press your fingers into the same wound and be shocked when they come out bloody?

So it isn’t fair and it’s also hard. Words bite at the back of your teeth, because this is your husband—if you can’t talk to him, what are you even doing? Namjoon would laugh. The one that’s equal parts patient and exasperated, like he can’t believe someone like you exists even though he’s seen some shit. Worse shit than you and Yoongi have, that’s for sure, so it should be reassuring.

(Everything reads like an attack.)

“Hey,” Yoongi says, hip resting against the counter, towel thrown over his shoulder. (These things always happen in a kitchen.) “You okay?”

How doubly unfair is it that your first instinct is to lie? To say yeah, I’m fine—not to be deceptive, but because you’re sure with enough time you can make it true, foolishly certain you can either bury it or delude yourself. But Yoongi is looking at you like a caged animal; like he, too, is foolishly certain of foolish things. Yoongi is looking at you like he knows this is it. Like this is where you say I’m sorry, this just isn’t working, we were stupid to think it would even though we’re trying. Like this is where you take off your wedding band and place it calmly in his hand. No dramatics, just resignation.

So you don’t lie. You can’t. Instead, you say, “Yeah, I think… I think it’s just been a little hard lately.”

Yoongi tries to lie, too. Tries to hide how relieved his exhale is, but the smile peeks through, the flush on his cheeks. Can’t hide that he’s pleased because all those nightmares he’d conjured in his head aren’t coming true.

“I should’ve said something earlier,” you say, because it’s something that’s true, “I’m sorry. I just—I don’t want you to feel bad, you know? I don’t want to keep rehashing things.”

He closes the distance. Wraps you in his arms, all warmth. Presses a kiss to the top of your head. “It’s okay. I know it’s hard to talk about these things sometimes. I just wanted to make sure we’re okay.”

“Yeah. Yeah, Yoongi, I think we will be.”

(Something that’s true.)

it felt just like falling in love again. and it felt just like falling in love again.

On Friday, the two of you go to the bar for karaoke night.

As he’s buttoning his shirt, Yoongi says do you think they’ll have Epik High? and you can’t help the ugly laugh that tumbles out of you even though it’s not really funny. Because no, this two stoplight town won’t have Epik High, but it’s the kind of thing you laugh at when you’re feeling terribly fond, horribly endeared—it’s the kind of thing you laugh at when you’re riding the high of going through hell and making it to the other side.

It’s the kind of thing you laugh at instead of detailing every reason you’re in love with him.

So you do your hair and makeup nice. Barely make it out the door, because Yoongi stumbles into the bathroom to fix his hair and put on cologne and stops dead in his tracks when he sees you. Mutters a goddamn under his breath before he’s all over you. Kisses pressed to the nape of your neck, hips pressing you against the counter. The right side of painful.

You manage to pry him off of you long enough to shove him out the door, thighs just a little bruised, Yoongi’s lips a little too red. He’s still all over you at the bar. Still rests a possessive hand at the small of your back, still presses a kiss to your cheek every time he gets up to order another round of drinks, still whines and pretends to drag his feet when the house music plays and you pull him onto the dancefloor.

Someone sings “Fly Me to the Moon” by Frank Sinatra. It’s off-key and a little grating and Yoongi’s got wing sauce smeared on his cheek, but he still mouths the words to you. You are all I long for. All I worship and adore. You know you look lovestruck, and you think it’s a shame there’s barely anyone in this bar to witness it. What you and Yoongi have—it should be seen. It should be screamed from rooftops.

When the two of you go back to the bungalow, you split a bottle of red wine and sit on the living room floor. Yoongi has his guitar in his lap, barely able to play the chords properly, but he serenades you anyway. Does a better rendition of Fly Me to the Moon than the guy at the bar just because it’s his, and he’s singing it for you. He sweeps the blankets from the back of the couch onto the floor and fucks you slow. Holds your hand and kisses you until you’re breathless. (You already were.)

The rest of the weekend is spent similarly. Yoongi can’t keep his hands to himself, fucks you in nearly every room of Seokjin’s little house in Oakhurst, and presses praise into your skin like a brand. Sits on the living room floor again as you cook dinner, back ramrod straight against the couch; has a spliff stuck between his lips as he jots down words into a notebook. Looks up and over at you every now and then, cheeks reddening each time you catch him staring. You, too, refuse to smile until you’ve turned back around.

On Sunday night, Yoongi ducks out to go to the drug store and returns with an armful of bath bombs. Looks like he looted a bank, but he asks do you want to use the lavender one in that soft, shy voice, and you wouldn’t be able to say no to him even if you wanted to, so you don’t. You sink into the warm water, let the lilac swirl around you, make you soft, and you feel safe here with your back pressed to Yoongi’s chest. With his legs caging you in. With his words in your ear and his lips pressed to the top of your head, fingers dancing along your ribs, clearing the cobwebs from in between.

Monday comes before you’re ready. Insistent, inevitable—the sunlight streams in, wakes you slowly. Yoongi’s arm is thrown over your middle, both of you still lavender-soft, and he groans when you stir, buries his face in your neck. Everything is warm. A blissful little cocoon, made even more so when Yoongi pulls himself out of bed, makes a pot of coffee, returns with your mug steaming hot. He sets it on your nightstand, doesn’t want to risk burning you by handing it off, and tilts your chin up to press a quick kiss to your lips.

You’ve got a nine-thirty meeting, so you tangle your legs together and drink it as fast you can. Shameless, Yoongi watches as you undress—watches as the sun paints you in golden light, watches as you pull his t-shirt up and over your head, watches as your shoulder blades move beneath your skin. It’s the t-shirt that fucks him up the most, has him a little hard in his briefs. One of his tour shirts, the last one he’d gone on before the two of you got married. Says, a little awed, “I’d follow you anywhere,” and he doesn’t elaborate but somehow you know exactly what he means.

And he stays in the bedroom when you log on for your meeting. Listens to you talk to your team, your laugh soft and bright, and feels entirely dumbstruck. Feels overwhelmed, wonders how his body can possibly contain so much affection. Wonders, briefly, where it goes when everything hurts. If it’s just in a reserve, because Yoongi has loved you as long as he’s known you, and he’s not sure it’s ever felt like this; ever hit him this hard.

So, he locks himself in the second bedroom until the late afternoon. Pours over his notebooks, strums every chord he knows until he finds the right one. Jots down words he scribbles over and jots down more. Writes until the calluses on his fingers turn to blisters, writes until the words all blend together, until there’s something singular instead of tendrils. Yoongi writes until there’s something he can feel proud of; something that might feel a lot like redemption.

[interlude: monday morning]

(You listen to it far later. Back in your home that isn’t the apartment in Silver Lake but contains just as much love—perhaps more now than before you left; certainly more patience, more hope, more resilience. And as you take in Yoongi’s words, wrapped in their metaphors and their honesty, you cry again, but this time it’s quiet rather than heaving.

This time Yoongi is singing love, keep your arms around me.)

looking upwards, i strain my eyes and try / to tell the difference between shooting stars and satellites from the passenger seat as you are driving me home.

“Should we go home soon?”

It’s a Saturday morning, and you and Yoongi are on the porch. The air is crisp and cool, makes your coffee a tolerable temperature, and it’s early enough that the world is largely still asleep. There’s no polluted noise, just the rustling of the grass that’s now a little overgrown and the one neighbor from down the road who always wakes up early to run. He must hear your muted voices, because he waves as he passes by.

Home. Back to Los Angeles. Back to your two-storey home with the awful neighbor who doesn’t wake up early to run and never waves to you. Back to the chaos you know. Back to a home that hasn’t felt much like one lately, but one that can be repaired, just like everything else. A home that’s got enough love stored between its walls that you aren’t worried.

But it’s still daunting, somehow. Things feel solid here, like a houseplant sprouting new life—resilient, but a little fragile, too. So you’re scared to burst the bubble and doubly scared of what that hesitation means. “I don’t know,” you say. “What do you think?”

“I don’t know, either,” Yoongi answers. Takes another sip of his coffee, rocks a little in the chair. He’s got his knees pulled up to his chest. Looks impossibly small, especially in his oversized pajamas and the even larger hoodie he’d thrown over them. “It’s nice here.”

It is, in more ways than one. “Yeah, I’m gonna miss it.”

Yoongi hums. “Maybe I’ll just buy it from Seokjin.” Words muffled by the rim of his mug, like he’s trying to hide them from you.

Doesn’t work. Instead, you turn to him, eyebrow quirked. “Oh, really?”

He shrugs, like it’s no big deal. “Gotta do something with all this money, hm?” Then he sighs, picks at imaginary lint on his pants. “You like it here, though, right? Not saying I am, but—”

“Oh no,” you interject, voice at least fifty decibels higher. “I know you, Yoongi! You wouldn’t be asking me any of this unless you already had some half-baked plan in the works—”

“Yah! It’s at least seventy-five percent baked!”

You laugh, the sound the loudest thing for miles. “Yeah, okay. How much did you offer him for it? You spend all my money?”

“Your—that’s not funny.” He pouts. “I didn’t spend all of it.”

“Just seventy-five percent?”

“I’ll have you know I am a very successful musician. I could buy you ten of these cabins if I wanted to.”

You drop your mouth open in mock-affront. “And yet I have zero cabins, so what does that say about the state of your priorities?”

“Not this shit again—”

“I think it’s more of a bungalow, anyway.”

“Yeah, Seokjin said the same thing. Was really offended that I offered to buy his cabin.” A pause. A small lift at the corners of his mouth. “Still offered to sell it to me, though.”

You can’t help the smile that splits your face. “And I’m sure you said yes, of course.”

“I’ve grown very attached to those blueberry donuts.”

“Uh-huh.”

“...And it’s been good for us. We’re happy here. Happier.”

“Yeah, we are. You just needed some fresh air.”

Yoongi’s cheeks tinge pink. “Yah, knock it off! You’re making me sound like a tuberculosis patient. Like I just needed a trip to the seaside to heal.”

“I’m just stating facts, Yoongi. You’re a little studio hermit, barely witnessing the light of day. I bet you got one lungful of this mountain air and almost keeled over.”

“You’re a pain in my ass,” he accuses, “I’m revoking my offer.”

“That you extended with my money.”

“Yeah, exactly.”

—

Saying goodbye is hard.

As you load the last of your belongings into the car, it feels like you’re leaving behind a friend. You know you’ll be back (because Yoongi actually did offer to buy the cabin-bungalow and Seokjin seems keen, but whether that’s because he actually wants to offload it into the two of you or because he wants to salvage your marriage any way he can, you can’t be sure), but tears prick at the corners of your eyes anyway. Because you were desperate when you arrived, and now you aren’t. You were scared and lacking direction, and now you have another place to rest when you get tired.

Yoongi joins you at the car, his guitar bag slung over his shoulder. Just stares at the little blue bungalow with the pink door and doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t have to. Whatever he’s thinking, you know he’s saying it in his head in that fond tone of his. The one that’s bordering on thankful, and you are, too.

On the way home, Yoongi drives and treats you to (read: makes you suffer through) John Denver karaoke. Sings “Take Me Home, Country Roads” the way he used to sing girl group songs at the noraebang. Holds your hand the entire way, and the two of you stop at some hole in the wall for lunch, still a few hours from the city. He orders a beer—some disgusting IPA you know he only drinks to seem distinguished, even though this is the same guy you watched do keg stands in college for free Natty Light—to get out of driving the rest of the way and it’s your turn to call him a pain in the ass.

But he’s quiet in the passenger seat, and it’s not from the alcohol. He’s typing intermittently on his phone, pink tongue darting out from between his lips when he gets especially focused. “I think I got something,” he says eventually. “If I read it to you, will you tell me if it sounds alright?”

“I majored in economics,” you say, because you always do. It’s been your go-to since the first time he asked, all the way back in your junior year.

He laughs anyway. “Perfect, then you can tell me if this shit is gonna make me any money,” he answers with a wry smile, because he always does. “I’ve had this stuck in my head for days.”

You nod. You listen.

“And if you feel just like a tourist in the city you were born, then it’s time to go. And you find your destination with so many different places to call home.”

You wonder how Yoongi is always able to put to paper all the feelings you’ve got locked up tight. You wonder how Yoongi always makes Los Angeles seem less daunting.

there'd be no distance that could hold us back. so this is the new year.

It’s the thirtieth of December.

Your shithead, capitalist shill of a neighbor doesn’t wave when you and Yoongi pack up the car this time, either, just watches from his front porch. You can feel his brooding; worse ever since Yoongi had offhandedly mentioned buying a place up near Yosemite. Got a really good deal from a friend, he’d said, just when we need to get away, you know how it is, and that had your neighbor’s jaw clenching, nodding in faux politeness. Even illuminated by the golden ambiance of icicle lights, he still manages to look like a dickhead.

Good riddance.

“Ready?” Yoongi asks, catching the keys with one hand when you toss them to him.

You nod. Then you fold yourself into the passenger seat and reach for his hand.

—

Oakhurst is still small, but it’s made room for you, now.

There’s still only two traffic lights before you reach the road your cabin is on—a sharp right turn off the main highway, an acute angle, a steep decline. It doesn’t matter what time of year you make the trip, because the uneven, precipitous little road always makes your stomach drop, but it’s home now. Another physical one, because you and Yoongi have worked hard over the last year to make as many as possible.

(And, even still, the strongest home you’ve made is Us. What the two of you have is something still standing long after the storm. Something that has persevered and stood tall, even when the foundation was shaking. Even when you wanted to tear it down. Even when it seemed beyond repair.)

“Home sweet home,” Yoongi jokes as he kills the engine, and you laugh because his tone is flat and dry. Belies his excitement, his insistence on digging out an old box of Christmas lights from the attic and bringing it with you. That he has this whole plan to spend New Year’s Eve decorating, bringing life to this little blue bungalow with the pink door.

“It is pretty sweet,” you agree, and just like before, you neatly unpack your stuff and thread your clothes through velvet hangers and Yoongi abandons his suitcase in a corner of his studio.

—

There’s a woman on the television with rosy cheeks and a drink in hand. She isn’t trying to sell you anything.

She’s lovely and very drunk and even more beautiful when she laughs, teeth perfectly straight and blindingly white. She’s prattling off questions to some celebrity, rapid fire, and they’re trying their best to keep up but it’s hopeless. Eventually they, too, just smile into the camera.

Yoongi’s in the kitchen fixing drinks. Expensive champagne flutes filled with inexpensive champagne, a pair of raspberries tossed into each one as a garnish. Your husband doesn’t even like raspberries, but he’d wanted to feel fancy, so you don’t bother questioning it. You know what it means—wants a do-over of last year. Wants this year to be what the last should’ve been, because this year the two of you will be sitting on the same side of the couch, drinking cheap champagne from Vons out of expensive glassware.

A gift from Seokjin, because he’s a bastard. A housewarming gift for a house you’d bought from him.

There’s still an hour before the countdown. There’s still an empty pot on the stove that used to be full of tteokguk. It’s a different New Year, not Seollal, but Yoongi had wanted to make it anyway. Cracked a joke about not wanting to risk it, so he’s going to eat as much tteokguk as possible, that he might need the luck, you never know. I didn’t eat any last year and still bought a second house, he’d said. Imagine how powerful I’ll be if I eat ten bowls of this.

Your husband is always powerful, but you hadn’t pointed that out. Hadn’t pointed out that the only reason the two of you could afford a second house was because Seokjin gave you a steep pity discount, either. Sometimes it’s just nice to believe in luck, on top of all the other things you already have to believe in.

(Like each other.)

There’s still an hour, and Yoongi hands over a flute of champagne and sinks into the couch beside you. You forget about the woman on TV, but you don’t forget about—“You know, I distinctly remember you making me a promise before we came up here last year.”

Yoongi quirks an eyebrow. “Yeah? Did I make good on it?”

“For the most part,” you answer. “Like, eighty percent.”

Yoongi snorts. “Refresh my memory.”

You set your glass on the coffee table. Angle yourself so you can swing a thigh over Yoongi’s lap to straddle him, earning you another quirked eyebrow. “I distinctly remember you promising to fuck me in every room of this house.”

His own glass abandoned, Yoongi settles one hand on your hip, the other on your thigh. “Surely I already did,” he answers, words spoken into the crook of your neck, goosebumps rising along your skin. “No way I would’ve been able to keep my hands off you.”

Warm lips press against your neck. Kiss their way to your jawline to the corner of your mouth. “Do you remember me fucking you on this couch? On the floor? You remember how hard you came that time?”

Your hips start to grind, seeking friction. This time, the cool metal of Yoongi’s wedding band against your flushed skin doesn’t shock you. Just feels like another home. His hands slipping beneath the fabric of your shirt feel like home. His tongue licking into your mouth tastes like home. When he pulls away to say, “I know you remember the time in the kitchen, the way I fucked your mouth,” you lose all concept of home entirely.

Home is just Yoongi. Everything is Yoongi.

“I fucked you in that bed so many times. Against the bathroom sink. Always so good for me.” He’s thumbing over a nipple, embarrassingly hardened from the husk of his voice, the way his cock is filling out in his joggers. “Where’d we miss, baby?”

You swallow. Know it’s audible even over the sound of the television. People are cheering, but you aren’t turning around to look, because what could they possibly have to cheer for when they don’t have Yoongi? When Yoongi only looks at you like this—like he’s already a little crazed, a little fucked up?

“The st-studio,” you choke out. Dizzy, dizzy, dizzy. Not a drop of champagne made it past your lips and still the world spins.

You can feel Yoongi’s smirk against the column of your throat. Hate what it does to you, because Yoongi could talk you off a ledge when he’s like this. “Ah, you’re right.” Fingers trail along the hem of your pants, toying with you. “Is that what you want? You wanna ride me in my chair? You want it fucking dirty like that, my sweats barely pulled down, like you’re fucking desperate for it?”

You are, and you do.

So that’s how Yoongi fucks you. Gives you exactly what you want: sits in his oversized chair, pulls you into his lap. Sweats pushed down only as far as he needs to fish his cock out, slick it up, and then he’s pushing inside of you. Groans loud, tells you how tight you are, how wet and warm. And it’s stupid, because your husband is fucking your brains out, but there’s a little window in his studio, just above his desk.

Through it, you can see the Christmas lights the two of you spent the afternoon putting up.

You can hear Yoongi’s grumbling in your head, all his shouting when he thought he was going to fall off the ladder even though you were holding it steady. Cursed about not having enough zip ties. Cursed about one lightbulb being burnt out. Cursed when the extension cord wasn’t long enough. Only stopped cursing when you shut him up with a kiss.

You come hard. Yoongi makes good on his promise.

Another home.

—

(From the living room, the muted sounds of a countdown. Palpable excitement you’re finally able to feel, last year’s numbness long gone and replaced with endless warmth. Yoongi only leaves to grab a warm washcloth from the bathroom, and then he’s cleaning you up and pressing his lips back to your kiss-reddened mouth. There’s a supercut playing in your head, all the past celebrations. All the parties the two of you have gone to, the years spent alone but together. All the people you’ve kissed in front of. All the quiet, private ways Yoongi used to tell you he loved you. When was the last time? Just minutes ago. There’s seven seconds until the new year and Yoongi is right beside you.

Fireworks explode outside. You cry this year, too, but they’re happy tears. They’re tears that serve as proof you survived, that you went through hell and made it to the other side. Yoongi sheds a few of his own. Laughs, almost disbelieving, as he tells you he loves you. Smiles, certainly disbelieving, when you repeat it.

You’re going to miss this place when you leave, but there’s a ring on your finger and a man beside you that tells you home can be anywhere, be anything. Tells you that sometimes you’ll have to fight for it, but it’ll always be there so long as you choose to.)

if you've made it this far, i'd like to say thank you again for reading this. as i said, this fic is deeply personal to me, and i hope you find something relatable in it as well.

i know people don't always love to read the members in westernized settings, and i completely understand. i chose oakhurst/yosemite because it's where i went for my own honeymoon, and, well, personal.

i'd love to hear your thoughts! feedback and reblogs are always appreciated. ♡

[breezybangtanbebe]

ExBoyfriendNamjoon was a little pathetic if you were being honest. Dig through that hard-bodied exterior, and you’d find that he’s as gummy as puddy when it came to you. Two years of being with him and putting up with the crazy schedules, lack of communication due to them, having to jump through hoops to conceal your relationship , all while dating rumors with other people in the industry didnt bode too well for the union in the end.

So when you’d had enough of his aloofness and emotional unavailability, walking away from him was mostly hard because he made it that way.

The extravagant gifts he’d send.

The endless late night calls and drunk texts.

The pop ups at your home.

The dead look in his tired eyes that pinned you with his repetitive questions.

“Why wont you talk to me?”

“Why cant we work this out?”

“Why did you just leave without hearing me?”

It was always the same.

But it was never something you minded when his insistence landed him between your legs, mumbling his pleas against your pussy.

Namjoon’s tongue felt like velvet against your puffy folds and you laid there spread for him on your bed with a hand resting against his spiky blonde buzz cut.

This was a new look for him but you weren't mad at it.

“Hmm?” you tucked your lips together and hummed partially for him to repeat what he’d just said, while also reacting to his skilled tongue on your clit.

Namjoon pauses licking you to lift his head.

“I said, just fucking come back to me already.” his voice thick and deep from emotion. It does a few things to you, your heart aching at the sadness in his tone. It also made your walls clench around the fingers paused inside of you that had been rubbing at your spot teasingly while he ate.

You lean up on your elbow as you panted, your own voice hoarse from moaning, and give your ex a quizzical look.

“Why should I? Youre the one who pushed me away..”

Namjoon should have expected such a response but he still seems confused.

“What do you mean? Im here arent I? Why would I push you away?”

You sigh.

This wasnt the time for another back and forth session with Kim Namjoon, the fucking debate king. He was just nose deep in your cunt a second ago, licking your towards a much needed orgasm after the week you’d had. Hell, if you knew letting him come over would result in a rehash of the last 2 months, you would have left him on read.

Being horny on a dull Saturday night with your ex was dangerous waters to be in.

“Y-you always do this! Namjoon, I..” you try to begin but the words morph into a sharp gasp and moan when those damned lips of his latch on to your clit. He suckles it in pulses while tapping it with the tip of his tongue. His two long middle and index fingers resume plunging in and out of you, pressing upwards to stimulate you exactly where he knew you needed.

“Oh shit..” you inhale sharply, your jaw dropping and brows pinching together while your hand pressed flat against the back of Namjoon’s head.

He groans and closes his eyes when you pressed him harder against your heat, his free hand coming up to lay flat against your tummy.

He had you fully naked while he’d only shed his shirt before getting down to business, so you knew his dick was hard and leaking in the confines his underwear and sweats.

Part of you wanted him in your mouth too, missing the taste of his pre cum and the weight of his girth on your tongue. But you knew he didnt deserve that type of treatment right now.

Hell, he knew that. Hence why he was working so hard on making you come undone all over his face.

The desperation was palpable with every sloppy kiss, lick, and suck against your swollen clit, and Namjoon’s fingers were pushing you towards dangerous heights. Your brain was close to going blank and settling in the type of head space where he could ask you anything and you’d leave your ego out of the answer.

“Please. Come back to me. Everything will be different. Dont you miss me? Dont you miss this?” he mumbled hurriedly after pulling off of your clit, his fingers steadily rubbing your g-spot.

Your keening is all you can manage, both of your hands now fisting at the sheets under you.

“Yes..fuck yes..” you slur, not even sure of what youre saying. Namjoon kept his eyes on your fucked out expression as he dove back in, lapping his long tongue over your clit a few more times.

“Yeah? Miss the way I make you feel? Miss the way I eat this pussy baby?”

His words were doing exactly what they were meant to do, push you into that blank space of lust drunkenness with a heightened desperation to cum.

And you knew you would. You always did. Namjoon was the type of man that wouldn't let up until you were shaking and calling his name, roughing him up with your nails dragging through his short cut.

He would always moan with you when you came, his husky groan vibrating against your pussy and damn near overstimulating you. His tongue slows its circles of infinity over your sensitive bud and the full warmth of his mouth smothers your pussy as he savors the taste of your fresh release.

One would think it was a fine wine the way it warmed his body and made the urge to pull his dick out and stroke it with your wetness on his fingers overwhelming.

“Fuck..” he exhaled at the thought, dragging his tongue up and down your seam to coax you back down from wherever his mouth had sent you. Your body goes limp, the hand that returned to Namjoon’s head sliding down the side of his face.

When you opened your eyes and gaze down at him, youre shocked to find his eyes just as teary as yours.

You sit up on your elbow again and frown worriedly down at your ex.

“Joon..” you call to him with what little of a voice you have at the moment, and your hand idles at his cheek.

His languid licks are replaced by tender kisses on your lower lips, then to your inner thigh. Then your palm. His lips are pillow soft and swollen from how passionately he was eating you, and they do little to ease you away from being stimulated towards wanting to cum all over his face again. He takes mercy on you though, leaning into your caress with his earnest eyes still locked with yours.

“I know Im a fucking mess. And I know how hard it is to be with someone like me..” Namjoon starts, holding your full attention.

“You deserve so much more. But I'm too selfish..I dont want anyone else to have you. I want...I need you to myself..” he sniffles.

You were still chasing your next breath when your fingers began stroking his face. Your thumb catches a fat tear that managed to escape and it inspires another to fall from his opposite eye.

Namjoon wasnt a crier. While he was emotionally expressive (usually through his music), it was very rare for him to allow himself to cry.

Especially in front of you.

Something you’d always resented.

“Joonie..” you sit up and Namjoon’s wide hands lift your legs from over his shoulders.

“I dont blame you for walking away.” he shakes his head, stopping you from speaking before he could lay all of his feelings bare.

“..but I just needed you tonight. Im enlisting soon and..and I just...” his voice breaks, the fear and smothering emotions seizing is tongue. You shush him immediately and scoot towards the edge of the bed to embrace him.

The two of you remained in this suggestive position with Namjoon on his knees at the edge of your bed,his large arms hugging your naked waist with his head resting on your tummy. You were fully sitting up now with your hands running over his back and over his head affectionatley.

Truth was, you did miss Namjoon. Terribly. It killed you to catch clips of his lives and seeing how tired and dejected he looked. How it seemed like he’d lost weight and wasnt sleeping or eating well. You knew he’s been drinking more often, and the scent of cigarettes mixing with his cologne let you know he’d picked up that habit again. It was clear that he’d been a mess without you.

And to be even more honest, you werent doing that hot yourself.

But there were just too many issues to work through with him that you both knew he’d never have the time to do with the type of career he has.

Tonight didn't need to be about that though.

Tonight, you were perfectly fine with allowing Namjoon to pleasure you since he knew exactly what you liked.

You both needed that.

[jjungkookislife]

Crybaby [Epilogue]

ღ pairing: namjoon x f. reader

ღ genre: established relationship, light smut [18+]

ღ summary: Sometimes your emotions overwhelmed you, sometimes they made you cry, but your friends were there to comfort you all the time. Crybaby, a sweet nickname bestowed upon you by said friends, but when Kim Namjoon says it, it's more of a tease.

ღ wc: 1.5k

ღ warnings: impreg kink, unprotected sex, marking (hickeys, scratching), mention of beer pong, uncle!jungkook, pregnant!reader

ღ date: January 7, 2024

Namjoon couldn't get the thought out of his head, not after you had been so responsive on your wedding night just a few days ago. You had cried so much that night, begging and sobbing for him to fuck you full of his cum, to breed you, while tears rolled down your cheeks like they always did when you were overwhelmed by the love you held for him.

His fingers laced with yours, hands pinned to the mattress as he fucked you, mapped out his home in the column of your throat and imagined every filthy desire that escaped your lips. You begged him to get you pregnant, to breed you like he so desperately wanted to but didn't realize until the words slipped from your kiss-swollen lips in the heat of the moment, hands breaking free and nails raking down his back as you arched into him, kissing him deeply.

Now all Namjoon could think about was you round with his child, a deep ache in his chest as he looked over at you from across the room, you had no idea how you were affecting him as you laughed along with your shared friends, but he was desperate with a carnal desire to bed you again and again until you were round with his child.

Yoongi is the one who approaches Namjoon. 

“Everything okay?” Yoongi asks as he raises his cup to his lips.

“Y-yeah,” Namjoon clears his throat as his cheeks flush. He’s unsure if he wants to bring this up right now; especially when your friends are gathered just a few feet away in an intense game of charades.

“You sure?” Yoongi prods. Usually, he’d be in the mix of everyone, but Jungkook had already pushed him toward Joon with a knowing look, though part of him thinks it was because of his shit talent at charades.

“No,” Namjoon sighs in resignation. He knew his younger brother wouldn’t allow Yoongi to leave Namjoon’s side until he got an answer but some things were just too personal to share. Namjoon wasn’t sure if he should even discuss this with Yoongi until he discussed it with you.

After all, Namjoon had been living in your home for months now. You had insisted on living together before the wedding and Namjoon had agreed. You had more than enough space for him, a home office, and perhaps now a nursery? Namjoon wasn’t sure how he wanted to proceed. Had you meant what you had said? Were you ready to grow your family? Or was it just something to say in between the sheets? Not knowing would eat at him.

“I won’t tell Jungkook if you don’t want me to,” Yoongi shrugs. “He’s nosy as all hell, but even he knows not to get into your business with you two. You’re married now.”

“I know,” Joon says. “It’s just, Baby said something on our wedding night and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since.”

Yoongi nods, waiting for Namjoon to continue.

“She said…” Namjoon trails off, embarrassed. “She wanted a baby.”

Yoongi grins. “Congrats!”

Namjoon laughs. “We haven’t done anything. I don’t know if it was just talk.”

“Just talk?” Yoongi’s brows furrow in confusion.

Namjoon covers his face with his hands. “You know, talk?”

It takes Yoongi a few more moments for Yoongi to realize what Namjoon is insinuating. “Oh! Oh!”

Chuckling, he shakes his head. “Damn, who knew our Crybaby had a way with words. Good for her.”

Namjoon smacks Yoongi’s shoulder. “That’s my wife!”

Yoongi laughs harder, shaking his head. “So what’s the problem? Just talk to her about it. Chances are she meant what she said. Do you want kids?”

Namjoon nods. “I’ve always wanted to be a father. More so once I met Baby. I’m excited to try but I don’t know if she meant it and we’ve been too busy to even sit down and discuss it.”

Yoongi nods, placing his hand on Namjoon’s shoulder.

“It’ll all work out, man.”

A few nights go by before Namjoon is pulling you into his broad arms, kissing your cheek. 

“I’ve missed you,” he states as he trails kisses down your jaw toward your neck.

You giggle. “I’ve been right here.”

“I know,” Namjoon explains. “I just want you all to myself.”

“Ah, my husband,” you giggle as he kisses your neck, his hand going to your hip. 

“I’ll never get tired of hearing you call me that,” Namjoon admits as he takes your hand to lead you to the bedroom. You smile when you get on the bed and he joins you, kissing your lips.

You’re lost in his touch, his lips, his dulcet moans as you strip each other. He pauses when you reach for his boxers, taking your hand in his to lace your fingers together. 

“There’s something I’ve wanted to talk to you about,” he says as he brings your hand to his lips. “Something you said on our wedding night.”

Immediately, you know what he’s talking about and your cheeks grow hot. You nod, licking your lips as you feel tears sting the corner of your eyes.

“Do you want to start a family already?” Namjoon asks as he locks eyes with you. He knows you probably won’t be able to hold eye contact for long but he needs a genuine response.

“I do,” you admit. “I’m not sure how long you wanted to wait but nothing would make me happier, Namjoon.”

“I’m ready when you are,” Namjoon chuckles, leaning forward to kiss your lips.

“Really?” you ask as happy tears roll down your cheeks.

“Really,” Namjoon assures you as he kisses your tears away. He kisses your hand one more time before stealing a kiss from your lips, his broad body over yours as you two get lost in the moment. Moans soon fill the bedroom, and Namjoon takes care of you again and again.

Four Years Later

“Jungkook!” you call as you step into the home he shares with his husband, Yoongi. “Come get your nephews!”

Namjoon laughs as he comes in carrying both boys in his arms. The Twin Terrors, you called them when they were hyped up on sugar and no naps.

Jungkook appears from the kitchen, his smile radiant as he spots his nephews.

“My babies!” he cries as he opens his arms wide. The boys cling to him, giggling when Jungkook lifts them both. 

Yoongi shuffles in after, a mug of coffee in his hand.

“Jimin and Tae?” he asks with a yawn.

“Yup,” you nod, shaking your head as Jimin and Taehyung walk into the home with a table and chairs for the backyard.

“Seokjin is in the back with Hobi manning the grill,” Yoongi states before leading Jimin and Tae to the backyard.

“In our defense,” Tae starts but shuts up when he notices the glare you shoot his way. “Never mind.”

Jungkook cackles as he carries your sons to the backyard. Namjoon shuts the front door before heading to the kitchen to grab you a bottle of water. You thank him when he hands the bottle to you and the both of you head to the backyard.

You take a seat at the table with all the snacks, waiting for lunch to be prepared. Jungkook, Jimin, Hoseok, and Taehyung chase your children around the yard. Jungkook had Yoongi build them a playground set for when they stay over to visit.

“Mommy!” your oldest comes running toward you. “What’s beer pong?”

You shoot a look at Jimin that could freeze Hell and all its inhabitants.

“It’s a game for adults,” Namjoon swoops in, taking his son from you.

“Oh,” your son laughs. “Jimin said you can’t play because you’re having a sister.”

You sigh heavily. “You’re getting a sister. Jimin needs to mind his business.”

Jimin waves from his spot. “Sorry!”

Taehyung cackles as he lifts your youngest onto his shoulders. You shake your head as Jungkook goes after them toward the slides. Your oldest screeches as he wiggles out of Namjoon’s hold to join them.

Hoseok scoops him up and runs with him, both laughing as they go. Jungkook demands to be pushed in the swing while your oldest claims the highest point as his kingdom.

Namjoon drapes his arm over your shoulder as you take in the scene unfolding before you. Seokjin and Yoongi talk animatedly about something by the grill, your other friends play with your children, and you know the baby on the way will have just as much love as your sons. Your heart swells with happiness. So much love to go around. You’ve always been loved and accepted by the seven men present, and that love has overflowed and been passed onto your children as well. You couldn’t have asked for a better group of people to call your friends; your family.

Namjoon isn’t the least bit surprised to see you crying, with a smile on your face.

“My Crybaby,” he chuckles as he kisses your forehead. “Always my Crybaby.”

<< previous

[sopebubbles]

Pairing: Idol!Kim Namjoon x reader

Summary: Namjoon hasn't spoken to you in weeks, but he doesn't think that's grounds for ending your relationship.

Warnings: Joon gets a little physical, but he'd never hurt you. Namjoon and I both love cursing a lil too much. Breaking up. Mentions of cheating (you didn't) and neglect (he did), car accident, uber driver, hospital stay, elevator conversation...lmao at this point the warnings are longer than the damn story. It's not that bad. Reader is thriving (hair flip)

Wc: 1.1k, he a smol boi, I don't usually do small drabbles like this so let me know if you liked it in the comments 💜

P.s. this isnt any specific Minho, he's just a Minho but if you like, you're free to envision him as the Minho of your choosing. I don't control your mind.

A whole month had passed. Five weeks, in fact, and you hadn't seen or heard from Namjoon. Granted a whole one of those weeks had been spent in the hospital, but that clearly hadn't mattered to him. You hadn't been avoiding him. Not exactly. You'd think living in the same building would make you more likely to run into him, but it hadn't been that way even when your relationship was good. Now all it took was not actively seeking him out and you had managed to go thirty-four whole days without seeing him. When you saw the clench of his jaw, you were certain you could have gone much, much longer. You passed him and entered the building before rolling your eyes at him.

It was late and your heels on the marble floor of the lobby as you clipped your way to the elevators was the only apparent sound. A set of metal doors opened immediately to accept you, and you could only hope that he would wait for a different elevator. But then, when have things with Namjoon ever gone like you'd hoped?

The large man—has he gotten bigger?—stepped into the car with you and all but pinned you against the wall when the doors closed. You could only stare up at him with your jaw set just as tense as his.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" He growled, and not in the sexy way he sometimes did. He was fuming.

"What?"

"Don't fucking act like I didn't see what I saw!"

"What did you see?" You asked defiantly.

His hand clenched into a fist at his side as if he wanted to punch the wall beside you. "I saw you cheating on me!"

At that you could only laugh coldly. "I can't cheat on you if we aren't dating, Namjoon," you answered casually. You reached around him to hit the button for your floor because you were just sitting there at the ground floor and anyone could open it at any time, and also because you could not wait to get to your home and out of this incredibly awkward situation. However, Namjoon caught you by the wrist to stop you from calling for your floor, instead punching his number which was several floors above yours before planting himself fully in the way of the button panel. This time you let him see you roll your eyes at his childish antics.

"What do you mean we're not fucking dating?"

You crossed your arms and moved as far away from him as you could in the small space. "We broke up, Namjoon! We haven't talked in weeks! You can't possibly think that we're still together!"

He scoffed. "Just because we haven't talked in a couple weeks doesn't mean we broke up, Yn. You know I'm busy."

You wanted to ram your head against the wall. You would risk another concussion if it meant that you could get out of this conversation. "Yes, I know! You're 'too busy for this relationship'. That's why we aren't in one. It's done!" You reminded him. "And it hasn't been a couple weeks. It's been over a month."

Surprised confusion clouded his eyes. Could it really have been that long? All the days ran into one another. His circadian rhythm was shot to hell. He had been headed for the studio just now at 11:30 at night before he saw you and changed course. "We can't just be broken up because you decided. Not without talking about it," he charged.

This time you actually did hit your head against the gold panel of the elevator. "Do you even fucking hear yourself? Do you know the last time we had a conversation?"

"You can't break up with me in the middle of a comeback. It's like dumping a guy when he's away at war."

"I don't have the capacity to explain to you how wrong that is. You made a choice not to think about me. We've been broken up for over a month and you didn't even notice because that's how little you think of my when I'm not right in front of your fucking face, and it was a lot longer than that since you paid any attention to me. You said the relationship wasn't working for you with your life, and I agreed. Ergo, end of fucking relationship."

As usual, Namjoon found it easy to ignore all of your real issues and concerns in your relationship when he knew he was in the wrong. "So who the fuck is he if he's so much better than me? Huh? Where did you meet him?"

"Not that it's any of your business, but his name is Minho and he was my nurse," you said in a considerably calmer voice.

Namjoon took a second to try to process that. "What do you mean your nurse?"

You took the deepest breath you could before answering. "Do you remember the night I kept calling you and you didn't answer and you told me you didn't have time to worry about our relationship? Aka the night we broke up?" The look on his face told you he had only a vague recollection of that. Probably there were a lot of nights he felt he didn't have time for you. "Do you remember how we were supposed to go out the night before, but you didn't show up and then you didn't hear from me for twenty-four hours?" Namjoon shrugged slightly. That he did remember, at least the letting you down part. He figured your lack of communicating had been you being angry and punishing him, but by the next evening he had already forgotten. "Well, I took an uber home. We got in an accident. The seat belt broke and I was ejected from the car. I spent a week in the hospital. And it was Minho who helped fix me up. When I was discharged he asked me if he could take me out on a date and we vibed so i said yes."

Namjoon shrank a little where he stood. "Why didn't you–" he let the foolish question die on his lips. "I'm sorry."

You shrugged. "It's done. You made it clear what you could give and it wasn't what I needed. If we could have communicated, maybe things could have been different, but that wasn't meant to be. It's better this way."

Namjoon felt defeated. He had truly liked you, imagined himself to be in love even, but he knew that he couldn't make such a claim when his actions didn't measure up. If he could go back in time, he would at least try to do things differently. But the past was passed, and so were you. The elevator dinged and the doors at his back opened. He looked at you regretfully.

"Goodnight, Namjoon. I hope everything works out for you," you said sincerely.

Namjoon nodded his head and slowly stepped off the elevator. "Take care, Yn," he said before the doors closed on you.

A/n: this came about bc beastie and I are currently obsessed with secure attachment styles and that means saying goodbye when someone says they can't give you what you need. Know your worth, honey. Also sorry for being so punchy in the notes, I've been up since 4am.

Permanent taglist: @halesandy @burningupp-replies @lilacdreams-00 @minclangyyy @yonkimint @wholockian1 @cbgdoll @babycoffeefire @theatren3rd @bri-mal @armytwist @hwayne2294 @crish-mac @hey-itsmina @jikooksgirl19 @jaiuneamesolitaiire @lxvelyjiminie @marvelfamily3000 @borahae-reads @shadowyjellyfishfest @yoongiigolden @staerryminimini @valhallawhispers @m4gg13-g @i-have-no-life-charlie

[riaarivic]

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 2022💗💗💗

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 2022💗💗💗

"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 💗

[btsqualityy]

BTS Dating Series #13: When You Join Him On Tour

Members x Reader

Genre/Rate: 18+, fluff

Summary: You finally reunite with your boyfriend. 

Warnings: None to note.

Author’s Note: Don’t mind me, just continuing my yearly tradition of posting something on my birthday! Hope you enjoy it!

Kim Seokjin

You walked through the terminal of the airport, murmuring soft apologizes as you attempted to make your way through the bustling crowd. With BTS’ tour stopping in Europe, you and Jin decided that this would be the best time for you to come out and visit him so that’s why you were fresh off of a flight to London.

As you began to make your way to baggage claim, you could vaguely make out the sound of what sounded like a man’s voice yelling loudly. You huffed to yourself, thinking about how embarrassed you’d be if someone were yelling your name like that in such a crowded place.

“Y/N-ah!” The voice screamed and you froze, able to recognize that voice any place and inwardly cringing. You looked around wildly until your eyes finally landed on your boyfriend, waving his arms in the air and jumping up and down as he was flanked by bodyguards and managers. 

“Jin!” You grinned, rushing over to him and jumping straight into his outstretched arms. Jin spun you around as you wrapped your legs around him, giggling loudly as he pressed multiple kisses to your cheek. 

“Ah, I’ve missed you so much jagi,” Jin sighed as he stopped spinning and set you back down on the ground, cupping your cheeks in both his hands. 

“I’ve missed you too,” you smiled. “But did you have to scream my name throughout the entire airport?”

“Of course,” he chuckled, as though it was obvious. “Had to welcome my girlfriend to London the right way.”

“You’re embarrassing.”

“But you love me,” Jin smirked, making you roll your eyes playfully as he led you to baggage claim. 

Min Yoongi

“They should be getting ready to finish up with rehearsal so you can wait here if you want,” one of the group’s managers told you and you smiled as you bowed lightly in thanks. You had flown out to Chicago to see your man and Yoongi had no idea about it.

“I will because I want to surprise him,” you chuckled. “Thank you again for helping me arrange this too.”

“No problem,” the manager smiled before turning around and walking away. Just then, you heard Idol end and a flurry of the members’ voices as they thanked the staff before they began to exit the stage via a set of stairs near the back. Luckily, Yoongi was one of the first ones to come down so you waited until he had stepped down off of the stairs completely before you snuck up behind him.

“Guess who?” You called out, tapping on his shoulder and he turned around, the look of confusion on his face quickly morphing into one of surprise and happiness. 

“Y/N-ah!” Yoongi exclaimed, not hesitating to grab you and pull you into a bone crushing hug. “What the hell are you doing here?”

“Came to see you and wanted it to be a surprise,” you chuckled as he pulled back from the hug to look at you. “Happy?”

“So fucking happy,” he confirmed before pressing his lips against yours firmly. The kiss quickly became heated, Yoongi’s hands roaming down to your hips while yours tangled in his hair. 

“Aw, here they go with this PDA shit again,” Jungkook groaned as he walked pass. 

“Hey, some of us don’t have our girlfriends here so be sympathetic, hyung,” Jimin joked. 

“Fuck off, both of you,” Yoongi said as he pulled away from your lips to shoot his members the middle finger, which only set off loud laughs from them as they walked away. You grabbed ahold of his chin then, turning his gaze back to you.

“Hey, a little more attention on your girlfriend that just flew thousands of miles to see you,” you joked. 

“Whatever you say,” Yoongi chuckled before kissing you deeply again. 

Kim Namjoon

“Hey, I’m almost to the hotel,” you texted Namjoon as the taxi you were sitting in took you towards the large hotel that the group was staying in. Fresh off your flight to Paris, you bit back a yawn as you watched the scenery out of the window until your phone buzzed with a new message.

“See you soon, baby,” the message from your boyfriend read and you couldn’t help the wide grin that appeared on your face. Soon enough, the taxi pulled up to the hotel and it didn’t take long for you to hop out and grab your suitcase. After paying the driver, you made your way inside where one of the group’s security guards intercepted you and led you up to the floors that Bangtan had booked out. 

“Here we are,” the security guard said as the two of you stopped at one of the doors and you bowed to him in thanks before he walked away. Raising your hand up, you knocked on the door and a full two seconds didn’t even pass before the door flew open and revealed your dimple faced boyfriend. 

“Y/N-ah,” Namjoon breathed out.

“Joon,” you whispered, waiting a few seconds before flying forward and throwing your arms around him. He chuckled deeply, pressing his nose into the side of your head as he squeezed you tightly against him. 

“Shit, I missed you,” he confessed.

“I missed you too,” you replied. Loosening his grip some, you were able to look up at him and you instantly became worried when you saw the dark bags underneath his eyes. “Have you been sleeping?”

“Not much, no,” he admitted. “Seems like I never have time to, you know?”

“I’m taking care of you now that I’m here and I don’t want to hear any arguing,” you stated firmly, letting go of him to grab your bag before shutting the room door. 

“I wasn’t going to,” Namjoon smiled, allowing you to grab his hand and lead him over to the bed. 

Jung Hoseok

“Ah, I can’t believe we’re in Berlin,” Hobi’s sister Jiwoo exclaimed as the two of you got out of the car behind the Mercedes-Benz Arena, where Bangtan had a show scheduled. 

“Thanks for flying out with me, Jiwoo,” you said as two of the group’s managers led you backstage to the dressing room area. “I would’ve been bored out of my mind being by myself.”

“No problem. Plus, I wanted to see my brother and my parents want me to report back to them on if he’s eating enough or not,” Jiwoo laughed, making you do the same. Once you all made it to the door that was labeled “authorized personnel ONLY beyond this point”, one of the managers pushed it open and allowed you and Jiwoo to step inside. You instantly were hit with the loudness of the member’s antics, and you couldn’t help but to smile when you rounded a corner and saw Hobi dancing silly with Jimin. 

“Hey hey,” you called out and Hobi instantly turned around, grinning widely when he saw you and his sister. 

“Y/N-ah!” He cheered as he ran over and scooped you up into a big hug. You gasped in shock, giggling when you tried to get him to loosen his grip but he refused to budge. “God, I missed you!”

“I missed you too but please put me down,” you huffed, smiling when he finally set you down and once he did, you cupped his face in your hands and laid a firm kiss onto his lips. “Hi.”

“Hi,” he replied. 

“Oh yeah, ignore your only sister,” Jiwoo spoke up and Hobi looked over at her, his ears going red at being called out. 

“Hi Noona,” he smiled before leaning over and hugging her. “Sorry.”

“It’s ok, I understand,” she assured him before moving over to the other members to speak to them. 

“10 minutes!” One of the managers called out and you looked at Hobi with a smile. 

“You better give a good show tonight,” you told him. “I didn’t fly all this way for nothing, you know?”

“Oh trust me, I will,” Hobi assured you before pressing another kiss to your lips. 

Park Jimin

You quietly stepped into the studio room where Jimin and P-Dogg where working on recording together. It had been a long flight from Seoul to Los Angles but when one of the group’s managers told you that Jimin was at a studio near the hotel, you couldn’t help but show up there to surprise him. 

“Hey hey,” P-Dogg chuckled upon seeing you and you stepped over to him, bending down and hugging him. “Jimin didn’t tell me you were coming.”

“That’s because he doesn’t know,” you giggled. “It’s a surprise so I hope I’m not interrupting?”

“Not at all,” he assured you before leaning over and pressing a button on the switchboard. “Jimin-ssi, look who’s here.” Jimin looked over from the notepad that he had been so intently focused on and you could see how much his eyes widened from seeing you. He yanked the headphones off of his ears and threw the pad down before rushing out of the studio, only to fall down as he rushed to open the door. 

“Jimin-ssi!” You gasped, giggling right after when he hopped up and ran over to hug you. “Are you ok?”

“Much better now that you’re here,” he chuckled before kissing you passionately. You returned the kiss with just as much fervor, neither of you noticing when P-Dogg silently slipped out of the room and shut the door behind him. 

“Fuck, I missed you so much,” Jimin murmured as he trailed his kisses away from his lips and down to your neck. 

“Mmm, I missed you too,” you sighed in pleasure, a moaning slipping through your lips and making your eyes widen. “Wait, wait, we can’t! Not here!”

“The company booked out the entire building because hyungs are working on some solo stuff in other studios,” Jimin muttered deeply as his hands began to roam on your waist and ass. “I can lock the door and we’ll be all alone.”

“A-are you sure?” You questioned, your resolve slipping quickly. 

“More than,” he promised as he pulled his face out of your neck. “Trust me?”

“More than anything,” you smiled, making him smile as well before he kissed you passionately. 

Kim Taehyung

Fresh off of your flight, you slowly followed one of the group’s bodyguards into a lavishly decorated room in the hotel where the group was doing a photoshoot. With them having three shows in Osaka, you decided to go see Taehyung there since it wasn’t a bad flight from Seoul. 

“Alright, a few more shots,” the photographer said as his camera went off four more times. “And there we are! Thank you guys.”

“Thank you,” the members all said politely, bowing in respect before they began to filter off of the set. You waved towards Taehyung and you wished you had a camera to capture how his face lit up at the sight of you. 

“Y/N-ah!” He cheered, rushing over to you and not even allowing you to greet him before he kissed you passionately. Although you were taken by surprise, you allowed yourself to sink into the feeling of your boyfriend’s lips on yours since it had been far too long since you last felt them. It wasn’t until Taehyung slipped his tongue into your mouth that you finally pulled away.

“Don’t you think that’s a little too extra of a hello?” You wondered with a giggle. “And with all these people around?”

“I don’t care,” Taehyung shrugged flippantly. “I missed you and I’ll scream it from the rooftops if I have to.”

“That’s not necessary,” you smiled, wrapping your arms around his neck. “Just say it to me and I’ll be more than happy.”

“I missed you,” he whispered. “So much.”

“I missed you too,” you replied before kissing him again. 

Jeon Jungkook

“Fucking finally,” you huffed as you sat down in a chair on the side of the stage. You had been so excited to fly out to New York to watch your boyfriend and the group’s show but you hadn’t expected to be hit with delayed flight after delayed flight. By the time you made it to the concert venue, half of the show had already passed by.

Deciding to set the stressful day you’d had aside, you were able to enjoy the rest of the concert and marvel at how amazing your boyfriend was. When the group finished their encore stage and walked off the stage, you were quick to run up to Jungkook and jump into his arms. 

“Ah, you did so good!” You squealed and Jungkook laughed as he wrapped his arms around you and squeezed hard. 

“Thank you,” he smiled as you pulled back to look down at him. “You ok? I know you had a hard time today.”

“Forget it,” you said instantly as you waved your hand. “I’m just happy to see you.”

“Me too,” Jungkook nodded before kissing you firmly. 

“Hey, cut that shit out,” Yoongi spoke up, making the two of you break apart from each other. “People can see you, you know?”

“Jealous, Suga hyung?” Jungkook smirked as you laid your cheek against the top of Jungkook’s head.

“Nope, I just don’t wanna hear Jimin’s mouth about you not being ready to leave by the time he is,” Yoongi shrugged and just then, Jimin’s shrill voice rang out backstage.

“Jungkook, let’s go!!” He screamed, making everyone laugh loudly. 

.......................................................

Tag List:  @addictedtohobi @brittneymccray @cursedcursives @arata18nanami @leftieaquarius @devilsbooksworld @starmyy @werewolfbanshee-love @li-moonchild-il @kpop-servant @cheysjimin

[kingofbodyrolls]

Namjoon fic recs 2024 🥳

In honor of Namjoon’s birthday, I want to share my ultimate favorite Namjoon stories that I’ve read this past year (2023-2024) 💜 Have I recommended these before? Yes. But I will not stop screaming about these stories because they are so fucking amazing!! I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹🥳

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell or contains dark themes, so minors dni.❗ 

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the fic, it might seem like a tiny gesture, but it really means a lot for writers and I can guarantee it will put a smile on their faces💜 Let’s share and give lots of love!

Looking for more to read? Check ‘The Library’, last years Namjoon recs or  last years recs 🙂

[index] → jan | feb (jhs) | mar (myg) | apr | may | jun | jul | aug | sep (jjk)(💜j) | oct (pjm) | nov | dec (kth)(ksj) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂, yandere = 😈, thriller/dark = 👻, fantasy = 🪄. 

⭐Friend or Fuck: pt1 & pt2 @joonsmagicshop [18K] // knj x f.reader // f2l // 🥵🥰

📝 a drunken night leads to a good morning.

🗨️ I really liked this 🥺 Namjoon was just so sweet, caring and gentle with OC. Really loved it 👏🏾💜

⭐Emotions of the Soul @oddinary4bts [36.6K] // knj x f.reader // idol!au, childhood/teenage lovers to s2l2l // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 when Namjoon reappears in your life after thirteen years of absence, you find yourself unsure of what he means to you, and of what you mean to him. Anxiety reigns over you, but will it be enough to drag you away from Kim Namjoon?

🗨️ this is another masterpiece from Ella! She is incredible at writing idol!au’s that just feels so goddamn natural and real 👏 The way Namjoon is written is just perfection and OC with her struggles, and they are goddamn human, yes – and that’s one of the beautiful parts in it!!! 😭

⭐A Word from our Sponsors @ugh-yoongi [17.5K] // knj x f.reader // podcast!au, f2l, idiots to lovers  // 😂🥵🥰

📝 you’ve co-hosted a podcast with namjoon for three years; have known him even longer. the two of you have always been the picture of platonic, but that hasn’t stopped the internet from doing what the internet does. the shipping? a little weird at first, but you can understand it: two attractive twenty-somethings always in close proximity to one another, obvious (platonic!) chemistry—people have created ships for less. the fanfiction, though? also pretty funny… until you can’t stop thinking about it. 

🗨️ okay. This. Was. Exceptional ✨🥹 It was amazing, seriously one of the best fics I’ve ever read 😭 everything just had that perfect flow, the writing was incredible, like I can’t even speak? The characters, out of this world fantastic ✨ the whole thing, just, perfect. Perfection. I don’t know what else to call it, sorry. The world building and tension was so fucking delicious I just ate it up! 😭 And their banter and chemistry was just off the charts amazing. Perfection. And it was so fucking hilarious too!! Many times I was just laughing or chuckling, like the lovesick fool I am 😂 

⭐Bookworms @hoseoksluna [4.4K] // knj x f.reader // boyfriend!namjoon // 🥰🥵

📝 Namjoon thinks of you when he reads a smut scene in his book.

🗨️ the love that they have for each other– so beautiful too! The smut? Perfect! The aftercare too— they did each other’s hair???? 🥹 I mean, just the perfect amount of smut, fluff and overall cuteness ❤️

⭐New Guy @kithtaehyung [5k]  // knj x f.reader // university!au, e2l // 🥵

📝 all you want to do is have a successful meeting after experiencing dwindling attendance. but the new guy is completely disrupting things… or is he?

🗨️ so many feels about this one; all good and dirty ones!!! I had a feeling about the twist but I wasn’t sure. Anyway, it was extremely good, and it was so fucking HOT, like the tension, incredible! It really had me 🥵 So, so fucking good— love it 💖

⭐Holiday Shambles @ressjeon [5k]  // knj x f.reader // christmas!au, married!au // 🥰🥵🌩️

📝 when you have to spend time with both your parents and Namjoon’s snobby ones for this Christmas, you’re forced to show the best version of you even knowing what’s to come. you’re ready, right? after all, you’re the best wife aren’t you?

🗨️ this is so hilarious, cute and sweet 🥹 Loved it✨

⭐Entirety @btsgotjams27 [3.3k]  // knj x f.reader // slice of life!au, f2l // 🥵🥰

📝 namjoon is the complete package, except for the fact that he won’t make the first move.

🗨️ AFGJFKGHLKFDHGJGKJHG— 🥵🥵🥵 Yes, I’ve resulted to key smashing because I’m speechless, but I’ll try to give a few words anyway: first, this was incredibly hot, I can’t even begin to articulate properly, and the writing, like I’m a so in love with the writing, like the language is so descriptive and imaginative that I can clearly imagine every little fucking detail— and the words? Well they just flow seamlessly! ✨

⭐Heart got Teeth @ugh-yoongi [12k]  // knj x f.reader // enemies to fwb to lovers // 🥵😂

📝 (or, the one where namjoon meets his match and isn’t quite sure how to handle you.)

🗨️ wow okay, love, love, love this one 😭 it’s mainly from Namjoon’s pov, which is amazing, like all he observes about oc… Gosh and their back and forth teasing, witty banter and the dynamic between dominance and losing control— so good, ugh! 🥵 It’s amazing, so if you haven’t read this one yet, I highly recommend it ✨

⭐Castaways @rmnamjoons [25.5k] // knj x f.reader // s2l, slow burn, cruise!au // 🥰🥵🌩️

📝 you’ve always hated the ocean. Open water terrifies you, and you stay as far away from it as possible for self-preservation and peace of mind. Despite this, your friend somehow convinces you to go on a luxury cruise with her, her boyfriend Hoseok, and Hoseok’s nerdy friend Namjoon, who’s almost cute enough to distract you from your debilitating fears. When a sudden storm hits, however, you and Namjoon are swept overboard and find yourselves castaway on a desert island somewhere in the vast South Pacific.

🗨️ holy fucking shit— this was perfection 😭 A new favorite of mine, hands down. First off, the theme? Like being stranded and a castaway, so fucking good. I loved it. The whole trip, also so fun, but their banter, exceptional 👏✨ I loved how their tension build so slowly, a fantastic slowburn 🥰 I also did enjoy when the went overboard, because it made it much more realistic, and the descriptions of the event underwater was so good. Like, everything about this is so fucking amazing! And the smut, omg I’m drooling 🤤

⭐Solace @m-yg93 [13.5k]  // knj x f.reader // roommates!au, s2l // 🥰🥵😂

📝 Namjoon thought getting used to a new roommate would take time and adaptation but you fit yourself into his apartment with ease. He swears he only landed in your bed to keep you safe in his arms when you get spooked by the storm. Surely he can blame the eventual lack of clothing on the summer’s heat stroke.

🗨️ omg 😭 This was so fucking cute, sweet, dirty and filthy 🥵 I loved it so much!!!! I loved how Yoongi called Jin and Namjoon ‘Biceps and Shoulders’ 🤣 So hilarious! This was truly just— *chef’s kiss* 😘

⭐The Sheriff @ppersonna [6.8k]  // knj x f.reader // f2l, cowboy!au // 🥰🥵😂

📝 you’ve always had a soft spot for Kim Namjoon, the local sheriff.  seems like he’s had one for you, too.

🗨️ ahhhh— the smut in this 🥵🥵🥵 Hot, hot, hot! Another new favorite! It was so good and damn, the last line of dialogue had me laughing way too much 🤣 

⭐Knock it Down a Peg @thatlongspringnight [3.3k]  // knj x f.reader // est. relationship // 🥰🥵😂

📝 thanks to an idea from Jungkook’s girlfriend, you and Namjoon decided to try something new in the bedroom.

🗨️ this was just so fucking funny 🤣 I really loved it! Like I was laughing the whole time— that’s how funny it was! A short, but very very funny read! ✨

⭐The Truth Untold @rmnamjoons [10.1k]  // knj x f.reader // bf2l // 🥰🥵🌩️

📝 you’ve been trapped for months in a loveless, toxic relationship, too afraid of what would happen if you ever tried to leave. Your boyfriend gets so jealous, especially of your best friend Namjoon, who you’ve missed more than your heart can stand. Now, seeing Namjoon for the first time in weeks, you decide that it’s time to tell him everything, no matter the cost.

🗨️ ah what— this was both sad and very very sweet 😭 It’s sad, because it’s cheating— 😭 What she has with Namjoon is pure sweetness, and he is perfect for her 😭💜 I really loved it, though I have conflicted feelings about the cheating (I always have lol), but it was really good and I really liked it! It was so soft, beautiful and I love their relationship and she should just have picked Namjoon from the start!! Anyway, a really good story that will tear you up a bit. Also, just seeing the banner had me in tears already, and looking at it again, I’m already crying 😭

⭐Park and Ride @here2bbtstrash [4.8k]  // knj x f.reader // fuckbuddy!au // 🥵

📝 your fuckbuddy asks if the two of you can drive around a bit first, but he has a hard time keeping his hands to himself

🗨️ wow this was both cute and hot 🥵 There’s also a small drabble to it that can be found here: [link]

⭐Cream @luxekook [1.8k]  // knj x f.reader // est. relationship, idol!au // 🥵

📝 you thirst over the outline in the pants of kim namjoon’s iconic cream suit just one time too many, and he’s ready to make you pay for it.

🗨️ Namjoon in that cream suit— what more do I need to say? 🥵 (also loved it, in case there was any confusion on that part ✨)

⭐Don’t Want Your Sympathy @sketchguk [9.5k]  // knj x f.reader x jjk // est. relationship + threesome (kinda) // 🥵🥰🌩️😂

📝 jeongguk is like an annoying little brother to you, but nevertheless, there’s nothing in this world you wouldn’t do for your sweet, innocent best friend. so what are you supposed to do when he wants to watch your boyfriend fuck you senseless? say no?

🗨️ fuck. I’m going feral over this one 😭🥵 First, oc being best friends with Jungkook, so much so that she and Namjoon are willing to show him how to please a woman, please, I don’t know but that must be like the ultimate friendship goal? 🥹😂 I really loved it, and all the sexual teasing and banter was just so hilarious 😂 

⭐1-Year Anniversary @johobi [7.8k]  // knj x f.reader // est. relationship // 🥵🥰

📝 your 1-year anniversary is fast approaching and you’re determined to gift Namjoon the one thing he would never dare ask for. 

🗨️ omg this was so utterly amazing and hot 🥵✨ Another favorite and I loved everything about it 💜

⭐Embrace @rmnamjoons [3.9k]  // knj x f.reader // bf2l, idol!au // 🥵🥰

📝 you and Namjoon have been best friends for years, and you’ve been secretly in love with him basically the entire time. You both love cuddling and being close, much to the amusement of your friends, but to you, being with Namjoon like this means everything. You’ve always believed that Namjoon didn’t feel the same way as you, no matter how much you wanted him to, but maybe there is actually something else behind Namjoon’s cuddles, other than just innocent friendship.

🗨️ this is so fucking soft, cute and sweet and the smut is just so tender 🥹 a really awesome read and I really love it! Might read this one again sometime ✨💜

⭐My Only Wish @ppersonna [15.1k]  // knj x f.reader // e2l, fake dating!au, coworkers!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 there are few things you hate most in this world. Hornets, unnecessary fruit pieces in otherwise perfectly good jello, certain shades of orange… But nothing takes the cake more than two simple things. Christmas. And Kim Namjoon. So why did you agree to pretend to be Kim Namjoon’s girlfriend at his family Christmas party? Bah-Humbug.

🗨️ the way that I am screaming and kicking because of how incredibly awesome this was 😭✨ The tension? The built up?? God. That tension was so fucking thick and hot, I was going feral through most of the reading. I mean, what isn’t there to love in this one? Amazing, I loved it so fucking much it’s illegal 💖🥹

⭐You Set My Heart on Fire: pt1 and pt2 (series; finished) @hayjeon [21k] // knj x f.reader // one night stand, s2l, workplace!au, fireman!Namjoon + paramedic!reader // 🌩️🥰🥵

📝 as a surgeon forced to volunteer as a paramedic in the Seoul Fire Department during an unfortunate probation incident, your one and only goal was to get to work, do your thing, and get the hell home and back to your original high-salary job. But when the SFD’s Chief is the incredibly attractive, cocky, and persistent Kim Namjoon, things start to get heated.  

🗨️ holy shit this is amazing 💖 Namjoon as a firefighter? So fucking hot 🔥 oc as a surgeon turned paramedic ✨ and all the action, the tension, the friends with the whole crew and all the guys??? 🥹 Fuck. This one is amazing, another favorite! 

⭐Real Magic @here2bbtstrash [16.7k]  // knj x f.reader // christmas!au, workplace!au, single dad!Namjoon // 🥵🥰

📝 the holiday season has never meant anything to you beyond suffering long hours for minimum wage and awaiting the collapse of capitalism— but this year, you’d be willing to add making out with your dilf coffee shop boss to the list.

🗨️ omg this was just so fucking amazing 🥰 I love everything about it and the plot was so fluffy 🥺 Namjoon was just so fluffy and I love his kid ✨ Such a sweet holiday fic, and even if it isn’t read around Christmas time it will bring a smile to your face. It’s truly amazing 💜

⭐Taking Flight @rmnamjoons [15.2k]  // knj x f.reader // sci fi!au, post apocalypse!au alien invasion!au, e2l // 🥵🌩️🥰

📝 more than a decade after the alien invasion that wiped out most of the planet, you and Namjoon are both in the Pilot Cadet Corps, training for if the alien attackers ever come back. What begins as a playful rivalry between two overachievers develops into a deep friendship and emotional bond, but when the aliens suddenly return and you and Namjoon are separated, you find out just what you’re willing to do to get back to him.

🗨️ This was so fucking good, amazing! Really good backstory and world building, the dystopian universe was heartbreaking though, they lost so much 😭 but amidst it all, they thankfully found each other 🥹 it was so fluffy after all the rivalry and angst! The rivalry and banter was so funny though! I really liked that! I really loved the whole thing 🥰

⭐Love.fm @ugh-yoongi [12.4k]  // knj x f.reader // exes!au // 🌩️🥰😂

📝 you know three things for certain: jeon jeongguk will do anything to inconvenience you, kim seokjin is an absolute bastard for putting you in charge of the station’s holiday show, and you’ve got a lot of regrets about the way your relationship ended. however, you also know spending the last two years on your own has done you some good. you’ve got a new haircut, an apartment with a bay window, and a rescue dog. there’s also the stranger who keeps writing into the station about regrets of their own. the stranger whose prose feels so familiar. the stranger who leaves you wondering if things with your ex are quite as resolved as you think.

🗨️ this one is completely SFW 😘 It’s angsty, really more sad to me, with all the thoughts and feelings one could go through after a break up, but still missing that person 🥹 it was really beautiful, and I think the feelings are handled so well, how oc gradually let her friends in (the fact that she went two years without mentioning why she even got to the radio station in the first place, lol) and how her friends support her, the same with Namjoon, and how they will miss each other, but doesn’t shy from the fact that they still need to talk, work through things, but most importantly, how much they still miss each other, but are so fucking afraid of THE TALK. Gosh. All the feelings 🥹 anxiety! It was so good! The ending is very open and allows you to imagine whatever you want to the (potential) couple 🥹 So amazing, and I really loved it 💖

⭐Reflection @jimilter [18.6k]  // knj x f.reader // s2l // 🌩️🥰😂🥵

📝 when his muse ran dry, his publisher suggested Namjoon to change sceneries in order to regroup his creative spirit, and he left the big city to land in this tiny restaurant on the beach. In his quest for inspiration, he has interacted with hundreds of travelers and realized that on the beach, every life’s a movie – some he connects with, some he likes, and some leave him confused. You fall into the last category, confounding him with your sad eyes and quiet smiles; and with the way poetry flows out of him when you’re around. But what happens when things start to careen towards intense feelings, and both of you have vastly different lives to go back to? Heartbreak.

🗨️ this was so good 😭 so angsty, emotional and sad. All his observations, and then finally towards the end everything comes tumbling out 😭 it was very beautiful, heartbreakingly so, but it does have a happy ending ✨💜

⭐Don’t Read Dead Languages @sailoryooons [17.4k]  // knj x f.reader // e2l // 🌩️🥰😂🥵🪄

📝 Namjoon is determined to visit the Living City of the Dead. Amtenemhat is the Egyptian ruins that the locals fear. Archaeologists have gone missing and strange things lurk in the night. But Namjoon’s work as a historian isn’t perfect if he doesn’t go to the source of the legend, and hiring a weaponized tomb raider seems his best bet at surviving.

🗨️ another brilliant one from Hali ✨ it was so exciting, action packed, incredible lore and funny banter 💜 loved it a lot 💎

This is my little corner with my own fics— I don’t write that much (I prefer to read), but it would mean a lot to me if you checked out my work or read it. You don’t have to, it’s up to you of course 🥰

⭐Sprout (mini series; completed) [21k] // knj x f.reader // neighbors!au, s2e2l, garden!au // 🥵😂

📝 you love your plants, you love your garden, you do not love your new neighbor. You hate him with all your might— he wrecks everything you hold dear so you do the only reasonable thing: retaliate.

🗨️ I really don’t know what I was thinking when I wrote this, but it’s very funny 🤣 OC is so mad and goes straight up vigilante on Namjoon (poor man), there’s stupid banter (JK is her roommate) — it’s really just a crack fic, please don’t take it seriously, but it’s one of my faves 🥰

⭐Deep Dive [19.8k] // knj x f.reader // mermaid!au, fantasy!au, magical!au, s2l // 🥵🪄🥰😂

📝 you’ve been searching for gemstones deep on the seabed— having found a broken piece of blue aquamarine. Searching for the missing piece and your new rival, you find it and much more with the blue tailed merman Namjoon while on a quest for crystals.

🗨️ this is a new addition to my mermaid series— this Namjoon is very soft, cute, loves reading romance books (he’s a nerd and hopeless romantic okay) and he loves collecting crystals too 🥰 This is really just a spicy fantasy story 💜

And as a something little extra, here’s a few fics that I haven’t had the time to read yet, but damn I’m buzzing to get to read them:

Dirty Little Secret @nottodayjjk

All About You @taegularities

Trust Me, Please? (series; discontinued) @sugarwithtea

Sunshine (series; discontinued) @rmnamjoons

All I Want For Christmas is Joon @leahsfavefics

Intersect (series; completed) @shina913

Not Another Holiday Romance @kpopfanfictrash

Dino-Mite @chimcess

Just Like Candy @jamaisjoons

Cruise Control @lavienjin

Happy birthday to the best leader EVER KIM NAMJOON!!!! 🥳💜✨

[whyse7vn]

BOOK CLUB -

[ ot7 x reader ]

MILLIONAIRE CLUB + tae

8 participants - 8 online

———————————

tae: my girl tell me to shut up and i do

hobi: do you have schizophrenia

jk: ong

my girl tell me to shut up i kill myself

yoongi: it’s 6 in the morning

tae: so…

i’ve been seeing someone…

jimin: as in dating??

namjoon: therapy?

hobi: hallucinations?????

y/n: gm 😚

jk: omg my girl online what do i do >.<

jin: send nudes

jk: u first

jin: ?

jk: ??

jin: send it to HER

jk: ohhhhh

yoongi: ur girl?

namjoon: our book is out btw

tae: we wrote a book?

jk: did my story about the aggressive zebra in my room make it in

jimin: what

tae: i don’t remember writing a book

namjoon: no

jk: wtf :/

hobi: he needs to leave those drugs ALONE i’m telling you

jin: awoman

tae: did you write it without me??

y/n: if exo and superjunior are at our doors with ak47’s and bombs in the next 48 hours don’t act surprised

jimin: i could take them all tbh 🥱

jk: in bed?

jimin: stop talking to me

tae: do i still get paid for the book?

namjoon: ur overreacting

jimin: ????

DID YOU NOT SEE WHAT THAT NASTY MANCHILD SAID??????

namjoon: not you

y/n: I AM NOT

they’re gonna come get us i’m not joking

hobi: what if they bring all of nct with them

yk for back up

y/n: the end of bts for realzies

yoongi: dramatic

jk: let’s bomb the sm building

tae: is it like a colouring book?

namjoon: tae stop talking

tae: ur not my girl i don’t answer to you

hobi: where do we get a bomb?

jimin: bet namjoon knows

namjoon: ??

why would i know

jin: but i like shinee

y/n: REAL

we have to think about this

yoongi: still 6 in the morning btw

jimin: okay big ben like???

jin: yoongi can you not be a hater rn

yoongi: get a job

jin: i just wrote a book actually

namjoon: technically

jin: shut the FUCK up

tae: SO YOU DID DO IT WITHOUT ME

hobi: what if we bombed it while shinee wasn’t there

jk: what about nct??

i think they’re cool

jimin: idc what you think tbh

y/n: i agree

jimin: great minds think alike

y/n: make sure shinee and nct are out

ALL of nct

jimin: nvm

jin: isn’t there like 400 of them

lowkey impossible

namjoon: 400 is a major exaggeration

there like 20 of them??

something like that

y/n: gotta make sure marks safe >.<

yoongi: ?

jk: what

tae: is the book only in korean?

jin: someone put a muzzle on him omg

hobi: isn’t he into that?

jin: ur right the only option is to kill myself

jimin: this bomb plan is getting long i’m out

hobi: yikes

same

y/n: hobi :C

hobi: sorry :c

jk: i’m also out i have a new mission

jimin: to shower??

sorry couldn’t help myself

i’m actually not sorry

i could help myself

i like to lie sometimes

jin: kim seokjin is also out

y/n: fine me it’s gonna be me yoongi and joon to save us all then

namjoon: i never said i was in?

y/n: you never said you were out?

namjoon: out

yoongi: i’m not involved

y/n: FINE

you all SUCK

poor lonely y/n will save the day then

assholes

we have to get them first

like are you guys suicidal??

hobi: a bit

y/n: i’m just gonna save myself then

hobi: saving you saving me

i really love nct

y/n: hope they get you first

hobi: i’ll literally become an nct member

i’ll be in wayV

jk: ur not chinese

unless…

jin: wayV isnt nct that’s two different groups??

namjoon: isn’t the group just called nct 127?

jin: like they are all under 127?

yoongi: so what’s nct dream then?

jimin: isn’t there an nct u??

jk: me?

jin: so the people that sung the perfume song are 127 not wayv???

y/n: no dojaejung are a separate unit

but they are also in nct 127

namjoon: what

yoongi: superm is also 127?

jimin: i’m having a stroke

this is so jin core

jin: excuse me??

jimin: ??

hobi: fake fans

you would never understand this nct life i live

namjoon: ur right

yoongi: what is going on

jk: have fun with nct i’ll miss you

jin: i’m back on the plan of bombing sm cuz wtf was that

unnecessary as HELL

down with sm

and all their fucking units

tae: can i get my money from the book now or…

yoongi: why are you still talking about the book

jimin: the broke era is really getting bad

y/n: begging for money is insane

tae: i’m NOT begging

y/n: so what are you doing?

tae: humbly asking for my cut?

i’m a businessman

i’m a millionaire for a reason

namjoon: act like it

tae: um?

rude but i’ll let it slide

pay up

now

someone

anyone

preferably now would be nice

JIMIN DID YOU JUST REQUEST 4K FROM ME WHAT THE HELL??

jimin: don’t have it millionaire?

tae: ofc i do!!!!!

but why in my right mind would i give YOU out off all people any of MY money

y/n: if you are in ur right mind i must be fucking insane oh my god

jin: about to cut some watermelon

hobi: yummy

jk: what if nct are all robots made by russia to spy on all of us

tae: what

jk: i’ll kill mark first

to test the theory

tae: ur not talking about my money and it’s making me itch stfu pls

yoongi: itch?

hobi: are you a crack addict?

jimin: namjoon would know a lot about that

namjoon: no i wouldn’t

stop saying that

jin: this watermelon just squirted on me

feeling violated

y/n: wtf?

hobi: i don’t think that’s normal

jimin: how tf a watermelon squirt

jk: pics

yoongi: what is wrong with you

namjoon: let’s do a phone detox

let’s all turn our phones off

for a month

tae: IM ITCHINGGGGG

jimin: namjoon 1 hour off the drugs

hobi: highkey gross get some cream or something??

jin: right i’m trying to eat here

namjoon: i don’t do drugs

jin: what if i sent a watermelon with a bomb in it to sm

namjoon: leave sm alone

jin: never

i’ll send a bomb for every unit they confused the poor world with

jk: 82

jimin: something about that number seems wrong

jk: 127

yoongi: didn’t laugh

y/n: think you did

tae: itched so hard i’m bleeding

hobi: we’re gonna let them kill tae before the bombs are sent right?

tae: ??

jin: that’s stupid

tae: right like 😭😭

jin: ofc lmao

tae: what

y/n: now we have a book out can we start a book club

namjoon: that would be cute

yoongi: idk if tae knows how to read like that

jk: i love boobs

*books

i SWEAR I MEANT TO SAY BOOKS

PLS BELIEVE ME

jimin: i don’t believe you

jk: PLS

tae: i love the sound of “book club”

hobi: ???

y/n: “book club”??

tae: what?

jin: he’s gonna say something dumb

tae: book club is code for sex?

jin: told you

y/n: what

hobi: bro

jk: it is?

yoongi: no

tae: guys i think ur getting old

all the kids know that

jk: i would like to try book club

did i say it right?

like the kids would

tae: no it’s gotta be more like

wanna join my book club 😉

jk: wanna join my book club 😉

tae: perfect

jk: i don’t have a book club tho

tae: that doesn’t matter

jk: i don’t like lying

i don’t think i can do this

yoongi: same

yoongi left “MILLIONAIRES CLUB + tae”

tae: he’s mad he’s old

doesn’t know the slang of todays children

jin left left “MILLIONAIRES CLUB + tae”

tae: lame

@y/n wanna join my book club 😉

y/n left “MILLIONAIRES CLUB + tae”

jk: DON’T TALK TO HER LIKE THAT YOU NASTY LITTLE LIAR

jk left “MILLIONAIRES CLUB + tae”

tae: lol wtf he mad as hell

hobi left “MILLIONAIRES CLUB + tae”

jimin left “MILLIONAIRES CLUB + tae”

namjoon: i really hope the person that you’re seeing is actually a therapist

namjoon left “MILLIONAIRES CLUB + tae”

[wildestdreamsblog]

Latibule VIII

Pairing: Min Yoongi x Reader (Mafia/Detective AU)

Summary: In which you didn’t know who he truly was- until it was too late. Or in which he found heaven in you.

Warnings: Secret Identity, Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Violence, Mention of death, Disability, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.

A/N: last two chapters before the end of season 1! Thank you for enjoying the ride with me 🫶🏻

Masterlist, Latibule VII

Jung Hoseok watched over the glass of whiskey he was was sipping from as the last living member of the group entered the room. He smiled at Kim Taehyung as he plopped down on the seat with an exhausted sigh.

“Well, don’t you look good, Tae,” Namjoon drawled, his eyes focused on his tablet as he was ever so busy.

“I have no time to remove my makeup, hyung,” he replied in annoyance as he pointed at the faux bruises he had on his face from taping his latest movie. “Someone insisted I’d be here at this exact hour.” His eyes shifted at Seokjin who hadn’t said a word since he arrived, merely looking at them with emotionless eyes as though they were under a microscope.

“So why are we here, then?” Jungkook voiced out the unspoken query they had between them,

Hoseok placed down his glass with a thud, leaning forward, his arms hanging on his spread knees as he eyed them with a smile on his face. “Don’t you think it’s time to elect a leader?” He inquired curiously, his head tilted to the side as though he was overtly concerned. “There’s only so much violence and chaos our Kookie can do before they start taking advantage of our current predicament.”

Namjoon’s eyebrow lifted as he paused his reading on the tablet. He raised his eyes to Hoseok, his intelligent mind running a mile per second. “And just in time for her death anniversary, hyung.”

Hoseok’s gritted his teeth, his eyes hardening at the mere mention of her, of the person he fucking lost, “It’s what she would’ve wanted, Joonie,”

“Is it?” He drone with tone dripping with boredom. “Funny, I remember clearly how she never wanted to be part of our world…or am I wrong?”

Jungkook looked up thoughtfully from his phone, “For someone who didn’t want to be part of our world, Noona sure did know her way around knives and poisons.”

Jimin clicked his tongue at the golden maknae, “Don’t speak ill of the dead, Kookie.”

“It was a compliment, hyung!”

Amidst the chaos of arguments between the two, Hoseok looked at their oldest hyung- the original prince of the underworld. “You’re quiet, hyung.” he observed dryly, his smile pleasant as though he wasn’t the traitor that he was. “Do you have anything in mind?”

Seokjin stared at him with coldness in his eyes, how he was raised as the mafia prince showing as he regarded him with apathy and calmness. If it was anyone, they would have ran from the hills and yet, running wouldn’t have saved them. Nothing could have saved them should Seokjin chose to end them. “I’m just thinking about the traitor. Do you think he’s sitting with us right now, Hoseok?”

—-

Dominant.

That was how you would describe his kisses. Your Suga never did once hesitate, his lips strong and certain. He kissed you like he was starved, like he had been in hell for far too long and you were his first and only reprieve. And in between his kisses, you could feel his lips stretched into a smile. What you did not expect was his hands- of how soft his hands were as they cradled your head closer to him. You didn’t expect to feel the tremble in his hands as though he was having a difficult time controlling himself. What you most didn’t expect was how gentle he was as he caressed your cheek as though you were the most precious thing in the world.

And you were too powerless from his kisses. You held on to his thick wrist as he rested his forehead on yours.

He was breathing as hard as you were, and when you opened your eyes, he was already looking at you with softness and sparkle in his eyes that you never saw before.

“Okay?” He asked. You smiled at him as you nodded twice. You closed your eyes and savored this moment, your hand tracing every part of his face, forcing yourself to commit how he was at the very moment to memory.

“Okay,” you whispered.

Perhaps, what you didn’t anticipate and never thought of in your wildest dreams was how clingy he could be, you meant, looked at him! He was the least person you’d thought of to want to cuddle from how you knew him. You meant, wasn’t he the person who valued his personal space that he once pushed you to the side when you walked an inch closer to him back when you barely knew him?

His arms tightened on your waist when you attempted once again to get up from the bed. Suga had your head tucked firmly on under his chin, his leg in between your legs which further secured you to him.

You couldn’t leave him without him knowing about it. Yet, this didn’t deter you from attempting to get up.

“You’re going nowhere today, Angel,” he ordered grumpily, his body inching even closer to you, his cheek rubbing on your head like the cat you thought he was.

“We need to get up. We have work-“

“No, we don’t. We’ll call in sick today,” he murmured stubbornly, his hand rubbing your back softly. “I just got you. I can’t let you go.”

You looked up at him, and you swore at this very moment he looked so at peace and content that you couldn’t help but agree.

And so, you two called in sick.

“Then what should we do today?”

“Let’s go to the beach.”

Beach was a two-hour travel by bus and it was so worth it. The weather was perfect, and everything was so bright except for your companion who you couldn’t comprehend why was wearing black. He had his long hair on a half-bun, his eyes emotionless as though he wasn’t the one who suggested going to the beach. When you asked him why he wanted to go to the beach, he said that it was what the internet said when he researched where to go with your special someone. He said it so unapologetically that you weren’t able to say anything.

But heavens did you love it here. Back when everything wasn’t as difficult, your family would always go to the beach. You weren’t exactly rich, but your parents did everything to provide for you and sent you to medical school. Your whole life was just ahead of you until the tragedy happened. You thought you would never be genuinely happy again, but seeing him walk alongside you, your hand secured in his and as the wind blew his dark hair and the sound of waves were the only thing that could be heard, you were so certain you were happy again.

Suga made you happy.

He watched you fondly with his hands in his pockets as you skipped on the fine sand, your eyes crinkled to the sides as you dipped your feet on the warm sea. The emotion he had a hard time naming was now apparent to him- he was enraptured by you. You absolutely looked like an angel, he thought. And he would do anything to not bring his hell on you.

And without you noticing, he took a photo of you with the phone you gifted him before. The photo turned out to be low-quality, the resolution grainy but despite all that, it proved to be his favorite photo of you.

You were happy with him, Suga thought. An angel like you was happy with him.

“Why didn’t we…” you trailed off, unsure on how to ask him. He looked up at you from his lunch. The two of you decided to eat in the quaint restaurant situated on the seaside, the locals and tourists alike swarmed the place.

“Why didn’t we what, Angel?” He questioned as he placed more meat on your rice.

“You know…”

“I seem to not understand what you mean, Angel,” he commented confusedly, yet when you looked up at him he was attempting so hard to hide his smile.

You glared at him, “Why didn’t we do it?”

“Oh, that,” he pondered with his fingers stroking his chin as though in thought. “I knew it. You find me irresistible and I can’t blame you-“

“I take it back. I take it all back-“

Suddenly, he leaned closer to you, his finger tilting your chin up to him. “You have no idea how difficult it was to stop myself from taking you last night,” he divulged, his eyes were serious. “But Angel, you deserve more than a quick night. You deserve to be romanced.”

Suga told you he would be right back after your lunch. He said that he saw something in the souvenir shop that Jackson junior would loved. You waited and waited, however, you thought he was taking a lot longer than he should have.

You decided that you would just go to the shop, after all it was near to the bus station. You walked out of the restaurant. The sun was about to set, making the place looked more ethereal. You found it both beautiful and sad. You wondered when you’d be able to see this again. You were about to cross the road when a strong hand pulled you back so swiftly that you had no choice but to slam your body to his, as his other hand guided your waist to him.

A strong, loud horn from the car reverberated on the otherwise peaceful street as it sped away, barely missing your form.

Fuck.

Holy shit.

People swarmed at you as they asked you if you were okay, but all you could hear was the sound of heart beating so loud. All you could focused on was the arms that saved you. You were both on the ground, his body beneath you after he saved you and you could feel his arms trembled against you.

All of the noise faded as you looked up at Suga, beside him laid the paper bag of what he bought the child. He was looking at you with alarm, the memory of you about to get hit by a car because you didn’t see it was still fresh in his mind.

“Suga-“

“I told you,” he started, his teeth gritted with panic and anger. “I told you I only got you. I told you I cannot fucking lose you- that I can never lose you. What the fuck were you thinking? Didn’t you see the car!?”

You didn’t.

That was the truth, you didn’t see much. Because if you did, you would have seen him walked to you just as you exited the restaurant. He was almost in front of you that time, and yet, you didn’t see him.

You feared your condition was near its extremity.

One week passed since your almost accident. You stared at the paper white walls decorated by several diplomas and certificates of him. The clinic was quiet, the only thing that could be heard was the door opening and your doctor seating in front of you. He sighed.

And you were used to this.

Initially, you were hopeful that there was a cure, that an operation was possible. But there wasn’t a cure- they could only prolong your eyesight for so long. And the operation was something you could never afford. You needed to go abroad for it, you needed to recuperate for months for it- all those things were out of your hands. Your condition started when you lost your parents at that tragic accident. Your father was the kindest and most hardworking man, and he had the moral of a saint. That, you thought, was his downfall.

It was late at night when your father witnessed a murder. It was a huge news, you remembered. A senator perished that night, and your father was the key witness to it all. Immediately, your whole world was flipped around. Your family had to go into a witness protection program, leaving the life you knew behind. The days were idle and quiet, but at night the three of you were in trepidation of what could have happened.

Until one night, the unthinkable happened.

Your father was on edge, saying that the three of you were no longer safe there, that the police was not all on your side. You remembered the car ride like it was yesterday. You remembered your father driving with urgency away from the safe house.

You remembered the sudden light aimed beside you, illuminating all three of your inside the dark car. You remembered your mother’s panicked scream, your father’s agitated movements as he tried to dodge the car all to no avail. And then you remembered a car slamming on your side.

You woke up a week later with a terrible news: your parents didn’t make it.

But you did.

It was another three months later when signs started manifesting. The impact from the car accident was so severe that it affected your eyes.

“Did you already prepare, Ms. Y/N?” The doctor asked kindly after several beats of silence.

You chuckled at his worried eyes. He had always been kind to you, offering you help, sending you pamphlets of where you could get help, even going as far as researching for a service dog. He had a fatherly concerned for you, and you appreciated him. “I’m going blind, Doc. Not dying,” you reprimanded him with humor in your voice.

He didn’t return your smile and instead, he sighed before pushing his glasses up. “Did you tell your family?”

A beat of silence. “I have none.”

“Do you have…anyone?”

It was dark when you arrived, your eyes focused on your feet as your conversation with your doctor played in your head. You had limited time. You were almost near when you looked up and saw Suga waiting for you outside your shared home. He smiled the moment he saw you, the sides of his eyes crinkled. He walked to you and before you knew it, he had his arms around you. Your face was buried on his muscular chest, inhaling his muscular scent.

He smelled like home, you thought.

Maybe you did have someone.

Maybe you had him.

“Affirmative, boss,” a man hidden in the shadows said in his earpiece, his eyes trained on the living leader of the mafia world. “Agustd is alive.”

Tip Jar

Latibule IX