despite being strangers who solely exchanged wedding vows to trick his filthy rich family into giving him his inheritance, being part of this scheme is surprisingly easy. he’s out of the country most of the time, you’re being compensated for being a model wife, and there are only a few things you two have to to do in order to keep up with the whole guise of being a happy married couple.
with less than three months to go until you get divorced, namjoon comes back from a business trip and stays with you at your shared house, waiting until d-day with the aim of sending off your odd friendship with a proper farewell. but it’s weird, because just when things are supposed to be easiest—that’s when everything is suddenly becoming complicated, and the two of you realized once again that there really is no such thing as easy money (or easy love).
pairing: namjoon x reader
rating: NC-17
content: fluff, angst, marriage of convenience au, strangers to friends to lovers au, dash of fake dating au, and they were housemates au???? | ft. chaebol!namjoon + travel photographer!namjoon; office worker!reader
general warning/s: swearing, mentions of a sickness, mommy issues, unsupportive family, depictions of loneliness / sadness, character death (no major characters though!)
THE PARTS: ( 01 / 15. )
✧ EPISODE 01. the one with the emergency !
✧ EPISODE 02. the one with the...
✧ EPISODE 03. the one with the...
✧ EPISODE 04. the one with the...
✧ EPISODE 05. the one with the...
✧ EPISODE 06. the one with the...
✧ EPISODE 07. the one with the...
✧ EPISODE 08. the one with the...
✧ EPISODE 09. the one with the...
✧ EPISODE 10. the one with the...
✧ EPISODE 11. the one with the...
✧ EPISODE 12. the one with the...
✧ EPISODE 13. the one with the...
✧ EPISODE 14. the one with the...
✧ EPISODE 15. the one with the...
TAGLIST STATUS: open! send an ask or reply to this post ♡
note. i love clichés and i love kim namjoon! hence this story was made hehehe
I begin another doodle on my arm. It's nearly filled now with sketches from my ballpoint pen.
"Seriously, I can't believe your soulmate's never asked you to stop. Your drawings are everywhere at this point" my friend Stacy laughs.
I finish up the rose I'm drawing, "I'm sure they love my drawings. They've told me themself."
Stacy sighs, "I wish my soulmate talked to me more.. do you think I'll ever find them?"
"Easy. Just write your name really big on your forehead, they won't miss you."
"That is FAR from a solution, Y/N."
I laugh and look back down at my arm. A small heart appears next to the flower.
----
A Weverse notification interrupts my thoughts as I walk through the door. "RM started a Live" I open the live.
Namjoon and Hoseok are painting. I giggle as Namjoon spills some ink on his arm. Shutting my phone off, I go to take care of the pile of dishes in the sink.
As I pull my sleeves up, I notice a splatter over my wrist.
"What the.."
I run over and grab my phone. Pulling up the app again, I stiffen at the sight.
Namjoon's purple ink stain covers his wrist, a few splatters on his palm. Exactly like mine.
"No way... it can't be" I mumble.
Slowly, I grab a pen and write a small note on my arm by the splatter. Like clockwork, it shows up on his arm: "Namjoon?"
-----
The next few days, twitter had been blowing up about us.
"Namjoon's soulmate is an ARMY?"
"Guys! She knows! She found him!"
"Aww, that's sweet. Let's be happy for them."
"Wait, you mean they haven't met yet?"
I sigh, bringing my head to my hands.
"What do you want to do about it?" Stacy asks.
"I don't know.. I'm happy but I'm sad and I just don't know what to do. I'm surprised that he's someone I've admired for so long, but I feel dumb for not ever noticing. And I never imagined meeting my soulmate would be like... this. What if ARMY hates me? I don't want to cause him trouble. What if-"
"Relax, girl. I've only seen supportive comments so far. Everyone knows that you can't control soulmates, I'm sure it'll be fine."
"Yeah, I just, i dunno." I slump down in my chair, "it's not like I'll ever get to meet him anyways. It's a lost cause."
"Hey! Chill out. What you need to do is give him a way to find you."
"Such as?" I grumble.
"Such as posting your art online. I've been telling you forever, your creations are too good to keep to yourself! And if you post them, soon enough either he'll find you or ARMY will"
"That's... that's not a bad idea."
And that's how you got here. You'd been posting for two weeks now, but only had about 12 followers.
"Trust the process! He'll find you. It takes time to build an account." Stacy assured you.
"I just feel like the art should be for me, not a faceless algorithm."
"I'm sure he'll find you. He sees your art every day."
"I hope so" I mutter.
-----
I scrolled on my phone half-awake. I couldn't fall asleep, so I decided to explore my feed on instagram. Suddenly, I received a like. And another like. And a follow. And soon enough, a message.
"Who..." I mumbled.
My eyes widened as I see the message they sent me. (Messages by them are in THIS COLOR, messages by you are in THIS COLOR :))
"I'd recognize your art anywhere"
I shiver at their words. Looking at their account, it doesn't help in figuring out who this is. A part of me carries a small hope. It must be Namjoon! He must have found me! But I don't want to get hurt.
"Who are you?"
"My name is Namjoon :) You draw on my arm all the time.."
No... no way. It can't be. What am I supposed to say to my soulmate? What if it's just Stacy pulling some sick prank on me?
"Hmm, prove it then."
Suddenly I feel a tingling sensation on my wrist as words begin to appear. 'Hello artist'. I quickly scratch out a message in our chat room.
"Oh my god, it's really you! I never thought I'd find you.."
"Well you did :) I love your drawings by the way. I'm a big fan."
"No, that's what I'M supposed to be saying. You're music is seriously amazing. I can't believe I get to be your soulmate.."
"You're so cute"
I blush. Not sure what to say, I wait for him to speak again.
"How long have you known?"
"That I'm your soulmate haha"
"Oh, uh, I was watching your live with j-hope"
"Ah, so when I spilled the paint on myself? That isn't very romantic..."
"Well, I'm glad you did regardless."
A question sits at the back of my throat. Suddenly my fingers begin to type it.
"How did you find me?"
He begins to type.
"It's actually kind of similar. I've been following you for a while now. I found your page maybe, two weeks ago? You didn't have too many posts up at the time but as you started posting more, I guess I just kinda realized one day. Like your drawings felt like home to me. And one day I was looking at your art on my Lock Screen, and then down at my arm, and it just hit me. So I decided to message you haha"
"Dfbivaldhflvahf ok wait you made my art your Lock Screen?"
"Shoot. Shouldn't have sent that part"
I giggle.
"Um, I guess where do you live?"
"No no not like that-"
"I feel like I'm messing this whole soulmates thing up already??"
"Like do you also live in Korea or..?"
"Ah, no.. sorry. I live in (INSERT COUNTRY NAME)"
"Don't be sorry! Y'know.. we're actually going to be doing a comeback soon with a tour :D"
"I'll talk and see if we can go there!"
————
I shiver in the cold hallway. He told me to meet him here, is he still coming? Maybe I should leave.. NO! That's silly. He's coming, Y/N. Just be patient.
Suddenly I hear sneakers squeak against the tile. Turning to my left, I notice him. Him. The boy I've been messaging for 7 months now. The one I've been waiting to meet. The one I love.
His dark hair bounces as he runs, star-like shimmers glimmering in his eyes. He slides in front of me, skidding a bit on the slick floor.
"It's you, you're here, I" He pants.
"Hi Namjoon" I smile.
Suddenly my head goes blank. All those months of texting, and I have nothing to say.
"Erm, good luck with the concert."
He checks his watch, "Oh, right, haha. I was so excited to meet you that I forgot about the concert."
"Hey! ARMYs paid good money to be here tonight. Don't forget about them because of me"
He smiles and pulls me into a hug. We swing from left to right as we talk. After around 15 minutes, a staff member informs us that we have to go for him to perform.
Once he leaves I sink down to the floor, clutching my phone to me. I daydream about reality, the moments only seconds ago that somehow already feel so distant. Wonder when I'll see him again. Wonder if it'll be soon.
"I can't believe she's his soulmate"
"I know, right? I mean, is the universe sure that they're destined?"
Laughter from the two staff members pulls me out of my lovely daze. Why are they so rude? What did I do? Do they assume I don't know Korean just because we spoke in English?
A third girl working there spoke up, "C'mon guys, let's not be so mean. We don't even know her yet!"
"Yeah, but like, have you seen her?" The previous staff questions.
"Yeah, what about her?"
"She's just... not what I thought she'd look like."
"She could be listening now," the third girl said, "I think she seems perfectly nice. You should give her a chance."
Without another word she walks out of the room and into the hallway, where I was listening. I look up to her from the floor, my eyes glistening with tears.
"Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry! You must have heard them. They're like that to everyone, don't worry."
I nod and turn away, "Yeah no, it's just... old insecurities coming back"
"Well don't let them," she smiles, "I, along with I'm sure Namjoon, think you're gorgeous."
I laugh, "Thank you. You are too"
"I have to be! It's hard keeping up with my worldwide handsome boyfriend" She jokes.
"Wait, are you?"
"Minji, Kim Seokjin's soulmate" She grins.
We talk together while we watch the concert from the waiting room. Apparently she's been with the boys for 2 years, which is a little intimidating. Am I going to have to meet them later? What if-
"Everything alright?" Minji asks.
"y-yeah!" I nod.
"Don't worry, you'll be okay"
I turn to her. Did she know? Suddenly, Namjoon and the rest of the members pour into the room.
He pulls me into a hug, "How did we do, baby?"
I blush at the nickname, mumbling, "You guys were amazing"
"Were you nice to Y/N?" Seokjin asks Minji.
She sighs, "yes, but Ari and Chaeyeong said stuff about her"
"What did they say?" Namjoon yells.
"They were just being rude. Talking about what she looks like and if she's good enough for you, and...y'know"
Unknowingly, I had begun to tug harder at Namjoon's shirt while tears threatened to form. He pulls his arms tighter around me, "Hey, hey, it's okay. You're perfect. Don't listen to them, Minji's right. They're always like this. We are all here for you, we love you. None of the things you're insecure about mean anything to me. To me, you are perfect."
"I-I.." He pulls away to look at my face.
"You're crying but you're smiling.. I don't understand"
"They're happy tears" I grinned, "Because, I can't believe the universe thought to give me the luck that is you."
The knocks on the front door weren’t friendly in the least bit. Given the way Seokjin nearly dropped his tea cup when he heard his name called, Namjoon figured Seokjin’s past had finally come calling.
For a minute neither of them moved. Namjoon whispered, “She’s at the front door, Jin.”
Seokjin nodded his head slowly, as if the gears in his brain had rusted over. “You’re right.” He put the cup and saucer down on the coffee table. “Which is why I’ll be running toward the back.”
“You will not leave me with her!” Namjoon hissed and watched in horror as Seokjin spun on his heel and made a beeline for the kitchen. He didn’t want to face your wrath any more than Seokjin did. Your violent reputation preceded you. He sucked in a shaky breath and pulled the door open. “_____, hi!”
You pushed your way in with a firm shove to his rock solid chest. He barely moved but that didn’t stop you. “Move it, Fluffy. I know he’s here. Seokjin, you coward! Get your ass out here!” The back door creaked shut and you were on it like a bloodhound. “Oh, no you don’t.”
But Seokjin was in the wind by the time you stepped outside. You scanned the line of trees but didn’t sense anything. You stormed back inside and found Namjoon frozen by the front door, mouth hanging open. You waved your hand in front of his face. “Yo, wolf boy. Where’s he going?”
Namjoon caught a fresh wave of your scent and snapped out of it. He blinked rapidly then looked at you in wonder. “…my mate.”
namjoon x reader (oc)
genre: fluff
word count: 2.2K
a/n: Lovelies! Namjoon and Daisy/reader are being cute and soft and in love again :(( I mean at this point you probably know the drill. These two are about to take a big step and thinking back on how they started... they deserve this! I hope you all enjoy, and thank you for reading! :))
Strolling through the museum halls, you found it quite difficult to focus on the masterpieces surrounding you as you watched Namjoon stand in front of a colorful contemporary painting. Inspecting the piece, he leaned closer to it, his gaze bouncing from feature to feature within the work.
Nodding to himself, he put his pen to his notebook, jotting down a thought. You couldn’t help but grin at the way he absorbed knowledge, every piece of art intriguing him and inspiring him. It was something you truly loved about him.
Looking up from the paper, he slowly dragged his eyes from the piece to you, his orbs meeting yours as he noticed your smile. A bashful grin overtook his features, his dimples appearing as he stepped closer to you.
“Are you amused?” He asked, you nodding.
“Always by you,” you beamed. “I find you absolutely fascinating,” you confessed, amping up the cheesy tone of your voice to emphasize your playful teasing, though the words were genuine.
Shaking his head as he let out a breathy chuckle, he draped his arm around your lower back. Pushing his lips to your forehead, he snickered against your skin.
“Are you ready to go?” He asked, just before leaving a sweet peck to your temple.
“If you are,” you told him, Namjoon nodding his head. As he started leading you down the hall toward the exit, you halted, the man looking at you curiously. “Dimples, what do you think of this one?” You pointed to a painting, Namjoon’s head darting to the piece.
Humming in thought, he squinted at the painting. “I like the palette,” he nodded. “The colors are cool in tone, it’s interesting,” he continued, his eyes drifting back to you as you stared at the piece intently, feigning a serious expression. A smirk curved up on Namjoon’s lips as he watched you pretend to critique the piece. “What are you doing?” He chuckled, you fighting to hold back your grin.
“It’s phallic, is it not?” You asked, Namjoon’s eyes widening as he cocked his head, looking back to the painting.
“What?” He asked in shock. “Is it?” He questioned further, holding back a laugh.
“Yeah,” you held your hand out, dragging your finger in the air to draw the shape you were seeing. “Like that, see?” You asked, turning your head toward Namjoon.
“Fucking hell,” he chuckled, squeezing his eyes shut as he lowered his head, trying to hide his amusement.
“Jot that down,” you nodded to his journal with a smirk, Namjoon taking a deep breath as you began walking away from him. As you left down the hall, your boyfriend watched you go, shaking his head in utter amusement and fondness, a massive dimply smile spread across his face.
Crowds of people surrounded you as you walked down the busy Seoul sidewalk, your hand intertwined with Namjoon’s. After about thirty minutes of walking, and finding yourselves at Olympic Park, Namjoon bumped his shoulder against yours. “Are you hungry?” he asked, looking to your face to see you smirk.
“Starving,” you giggled, Namjoon chuckling as he nodded.
“Good, come with me, babe,” he said mysteriously as you led you further into the park, your confusion growing.
“Are we getting something delivered?” You asked him, the man simply smiling.
“Something like that,” he said, giving you no further hints, you huffing though you couldn’t hold back your grin.
You walked for a few more minute, watching other couples stroll the park, people play with their dogs, parents as they watched their kids run around, until your eyes landed on a couple across the field who looked quite familiar.
“Wait is that Jin?” You asked your boyfriend, pointing at the recognizable man and his fiancé.
“Ah,” Namjoon simply said, changing the direction of his walking to get to his friend. “I almost walked right past you guys,” your boyfriend called out to them, Jin lifting his arms into the air.
“I thought you already did, you took forever,” Jin complained, you looking between the three people completely lost.
“What is going on?” You asked, just before giving the girl a hug, not missing the way she randomly held your face between your hands as she beamed at you, though you chose to ignore it for the time being as you simply giggled at her. Namjoon smiled shyly at you just as you followed his gaze to the picnic setup in the field and slowly realized what was happening. “Wait is this for us?” You asked in surprise. “A picnic?”
“Yeah,” Namjoon chuckled. “These two set it up for us. And cooked everything,” he explained, you looking to the couple with widened eyes.
“Oh my god, guys, that’s so sweet, thank you,” you expressed your gratitude, Jin brushing you off with a wave of his hand.
“It’s all Namjoon’s idea, he just needed some help with the execution,” Jin explained as your lips spread into a warm smile, your eyes glued to Namjoon as he ducked his head slightly, the man bashful under the attention.
The couple didn’t stay long, leaving you and Namjoon to enjoy your picnic alone, however your friend kept looking back at you both as she walked away with Jin.
“They were acting weird, don’t you think?” You pointed out to Namjoon as you both sat on the cute little picnic blanket.
“I don’t know, they seemed about normal,” Namjoon countered as he opened Jin’s old picnic basket.
“No seriously, look, she keeps looking back at us,” you nodded to the couple, your boyfriend looking after them with a small chuckle.
“She’s always strange though, is that really any different to how she normally acts?” He reminded you of your friend’s sometimes weird behaviors. Giggling, you nodded.
“Ok, kind of true,” you confirmed. “And I’m letting you dissing my friend’s eccentricity slide for now since you planned this adorable picnic” you teasingly added as you watched Namjoon lift a bottle of champagne from the basket. “Ooh, fancy,” you smirked, Namjoon’s dimples on display as he dug further inside the basket, setting different food containers onto the blanket. “Jesus, it’s a feast.”
“You said you were starving,” he pointed out, you giggling as you reached forward and opened a container of fruit. Bringing a berry to your lips, you watched the man as he uncorked the bottle of champagne. His face was full of concentration as he twisted the metal cage that held the cork in place. Dropping the wire on the blanket, he pushed up on the cork, both of you flinching at the sound of the pop, the cork being sent a few feet away and landing in the grass. “Oh, shit,” Namjoon mumbled as he set the bottle down, nearly knocking it over as he hurried after the cork, you having to catch it before it spilled all over your picnic set up.
Chuckling to yourself, you looked toward the man as he adorably made his way back, holding the object out toward you with a goofy grin on his face. There were several moments, nearly constant actually, where you looked at Namjoon and remembered all over again just why you wanted to spend your life with him. And as he sat back down, less than gracefully, dropping the cork on the blanket proudly, you found yourself in yet another one of those moments. What a blessing it would be to spend forever with this man.
As you enjoyed the meal your good friends put together for you, all you could think about was how unbelievably lucky you were in this lifetime to have found Namjoon. And how privileged you were to be on the receiving end of his love, along with his forgiveness. The man could have given up on you early on in your relationship, leaving you behind when you gave him nothing but insecurity and inconsistency. But he stayed by your side, showing you the care and patience that you’d never been given before him. He was a treasure, and he was yours.
The sun was setting over the city, casting Namjoon in a heavenly golden glow. Staring at him fondly, you wondered if he understood how beautiful he was; how beautiful you found him to be.
“You’re gorgeous,” he suddenly interrupted your thoughts, your jaw dropping slightly as he stole the compliment you were just about to give him.
“I was just thinking the same thing about you,” you grinned, Namjoon letting out a breathy chuckle. “You really are gorgeous, Dimples,” you appreciated him sincerely. “I never tire of looking at you, or talking to you, sitting with you in silence,” you shared, Namjoon’s eyes softening as he stared at your face. “You really are the most fascinating thing I’ve ever come across,” you whispered.
Namjoon’s adam’s apple bobbed against his throat as he swallowed nervously, a warm smile overtaking his features. “I have something for you,” he announced, digging inside his bag. Watching him curiously, your eyes fell upon the envelope he pulled out. Presenting it to you bashfully, you beamed.
“What’s this?” You asked as you took it, reading your name that was written across the front of the envelope. Carefully, you opened it, pulling out a folded piece of paper. You weren’t sure what the contents of the letter would be, but you had a feeling this was going to be a major moment for you and Namjoon. Opening it carefully and slowly, your eyes scanned the words across the page, mostly scribblings with crossed out words. But the first sentence told you exactly what you were looking at.
Etched in hangul were the words person and love. And below that, You make live to a love, was written in English.
Your heart raced as you realized this was the draft he started with when writing his song Trivia: Love.
Other single lines were scratched across the page such as, What if I go? If I go, would you be sad? And You’re my person, my desire, my pride, my love, my one and only love.
You could feel tears pricking your eyes as you read over the paper, the sentiment of the lyrics hitting you all over again; the love and vulnerability and purpose he revealed on the page, all feelings you caused him. The word destiny was written with an arrow pointing to, we’re meant to be. Do you feel the same?
At the bottom of the page, he abandoned single lyric ideas where he instead decided to write his thoughts plainly.
“This is love. I know it is, I just feel it. I’ve never truly known it before, but this is it. Like how the moon rises after the sun. You give meaning to my memories. Will you make memories with me forever?”
Lowering the paper to your lap, you looked across the picnic blanket to find your boyfriend holding a ring between his fingers, his eyes soft and large as he stared at you nervously. “Will you make memories with me forever?” He asked you, your breath leaving your lungs as the love you felt for the man rushed through your frame.
You couldn’t even form words as you began nodding, smiles overtaking both of your faces as you stood on your knees. Namjoon mimicked your actions as he met you in the middle, your mouths crashing into a needy kiss. Ignoring the other park goers, you and Namjoon were lost on cloud nine together.
Trailing kisses across your face, he wrapped his arms around your body, pulling you against his frame as he held you close. “I’ve wanted to marry for years,” he chuckled against your hair, you smiling against his neck in response. “I wrote this song knowing I wanted to spend the rest of my life with you.”
“I’ve known for years too,” you assured him. “You’re incredible, you know that?” You asked him, chuckling as you pulled away from him to look at his stunning face. His eyes held your gaze for a moment before they landed on your hand, his fingers grasping your hand as he slid the ring into place.
“Here’s to a lifetime of being forever fascinated by each other,” he said cheesily with a massive dimply grin.
“A lifetime,” you beamed. “That sounds perfect.”
Staring at each other for a moment, Namjoon broke the moment first by lunging forward, pushing you to the ground as he positioned himself above you. Kissing you softly, your hands brushed over the sides of his face.
“I almost put the ring in your champagne glass but I was afraid you’d swallow it,” he giggled adorably, your finger tracing over the dimple in his cheeks before dragging over his smiling lips.
“Now that would have been a story,” you teased as Namjoon kissed the tip of your finger. “Thank you, Joon,” you said suddenly, his eyes widening in question. “For believing in us even when I couldn’t.”
Smiling softly, he shook his head at you as if he shouldn’t be thanked for such a silly easy thing to do. But instead of speaking against your gratitude, he chose to gently press his lips to yours. Because it didn’t matter how you started your relationship or who believed in what. You were there, and you were in love. And he knew you both would be loving each other for as long as you both lived in this lifetime, and even into the next.
Warnings: Manipulation, Abuse of Power, Swearing, Negotiations and Contracts, Fighting
Summary: Jungkook comes home swinging, literally, to take out his anger on Namjoon and anyone who crosses his path.
Listen: illicit affairs by Taylor Swift
Jungkook had come home swinging, already shots deep by eight o’clock, he was pissed and lost and dangerously sad. The pain of their latest contract signing, at which he’d offered to use blood if it would please Bang, had left him feeling empty. He always trusted Namjoon, Yoongi and Jin. He always believed they had his best interest at heart, that their decisions reflected their collective protectiveness over him.
But he was wrong.
Namjoon had been having meetings behind his back, meetings about his future, about his behavior, and hadn’t ever told Jungkook. He’d been plotting career moves, giving up information, and signing away Jungkook’s existence. He was actively influencing him to make certain decisions, to dress certain ways, to exercise until he puked, for a decade. Everything in Jungkook’s life, including himself, belonged to Big Hit, and it was Namjoon’s fault.
Jungkook stumbled into the dorms, finding you and Namjoon sitting on the couch, TV playing softly as the hyungs gazed at the screen. Jungkook couldn’t tell if you were paying attention, and he didn’t care.
“Namjoon,” His tone was harsh, alerting anyone in the vicinity that Jungkook was home, and Jungkook was pissed.
“Ah, Jungkookie you’ve been drinking again?” Namjoon asked, concern in his eyes. You glanced at the maknae, his hair pulled into a ponytail, black jeans clinging to his skin. In the forty-eight hours you’d been in Korea, you hadn’t seen Jungkook once. Having only interacted with him a few times, and having only heard about him from Namjoon, you were unsure how his disheveled appearance stacked against his usual, off camera demeanor.
“I have to, how else can I handle the bullshit you’ve put me through?” Jungkook yelled.
“What?” Namjoon whispered, muscles tense.
“You’ve been lying to me for a decade!”
“I haven’t been-
“You’ve been having secret meetings at Big Hit, all about me,” Jungkook was slobbering drunk, and Namjoon knew he’d only remember bits of this in the morning.
“I can explain,”
“Explain how you’ve been making decisions that have been deemed best for me? Controlled me until I lost all senses and become some fucking soulless robot? Explain that to me!”
“Jungkook, I, I was obligated to,” Namjoon tried to explain.
“Obligated? To destroy me?” Jungkook’s voice was rising again.
“Bang had a plan, I, I was a pawn in it too. He made me out to be a fool,” Namjoon’s voice was cracking. He stood slowly, moving towards Jungkook. You didn’t know if you should run or stay.
“He made you the fool? Look at the fucking fool you’ve made me, Joon! I don’t know who I am! I’m fucking, drunk every day, working out until I pass out, on diet after diet. I’m fucking killing myself so what, you can call me kid and toss off decisions like they haven’t ruined me?” Jungkook yelled.
Jungkook didn’t yell. He didn’t get angry at anyone except himself. The alcohol had loosened him, his inhibitions gone, and he could give two fucks about decorum. Let the entire complex know that the Golden Maknae had been a psychotic science experiment gone horribly right.
“You’re not a kid!” Namjoon agreed.
“You’re a baby,” Yoongi added as he walked through the fight to get a glass of water.
“Don’t call me that,” Jungkook growled, glare directed at Yoongi.
“Why are you so mad at him?” Yoongi questioned, the fire in his eyes daring Jungkook to stand up to him.
“He’s the reason my life is-”
“Wonderful? Full of love, and money and respect? What about ARMY? Or is the bottle trying to convince you otherwise?” Yoongi listed the positives of their predicament, a behavior Namjoon hadn’t done in years.
“I’m wasting away so you can fucking make beats that don’t even belong to you,” Jungkook rolled his eyes.
“And what are you doing Jungkook? Drinking yourself to an early grave so we can bury you before we turn thirty? Fuck you and your selfishness,” Yoongi snarled.
“Fuck you, Yoongi. You have a life; you know who you are! You have something, when all this is over you have fucking everything. And fucking Namjoon has Y/N!” Jungkook didn’t bother looking at you, and at the mention of your name Namjoon moved in front of you, shielding you from the display of reckless drunkenness.
“Everything? Jungkook, you’re so fucking dense. I was starving when Bang found me. I had no food; I had no home. Yeah, he’s a fucking dictator and he does things that make me want to slit his throat. But at the end of the day, I have place to sleep and food to eat and I get to make a living doing what I love, with people I care about. Stop being a dick and focusing on you. It’s not all about you, you have bandmates, brothers to think about. Grow the fuck up, or drink yourself to death, I don’t fucking care either way.” Yoongi turned, eyes still dark. “Y/N, come with me,” He demanded.
You stood, scurrying around Jungkook to follow Yoongi into his room.
“Shame you’re seeing him like this,” Yoongi muttered as he opened the door. “He isn’t always, you know,”
“Blackout drunk?” You filled in.
“Yeah,”
“I know… I know Joon isn’t blameless in all of this,” You said, watching Yoongi sit at his desk. “I know he’s done things; I know he hasn’t told you, but Bang and he have some secret language that only they speak… It’s really fucking terrifying.”
“He won’t talk about it,” Yoongi sipped on his water.
“I don’t know if you’d look at him the same way if he did.” You whispered, unwilling to spill your partner’s darkest secrets.
“You still love him?” Yoongi smirked.
“I, yeah, I do,” You blushed.
“So, wouldn’t I?” Yoongi asked.
“Min Yoongi, ever the philosopher,” You smiled lightly.
In the living room, Jungkook watched you walk away, and swallowed hard. His anger dissipating into sobs as he fell to the ground, Namjoon quick to wrap his arms around him.
“I’ve got you; I’ve got you,” Namjoon whispered.
“I don’t fucking want you,” Jungkook pushed him off and stood slowly, the dorms starting to spin as he struggled to find his balance.
“Jungkook, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry I-
Jungkook didn’t think. He didn’t rationalize. He just swung, knuckles connecting with Namjoon’s jaw in an audible punch. He regretted it instantly and regretted it more when Namjoon didn’t punch back.
“You’re just going to take it? You’re just going to let me beat the shit out of you?” Jungkook yelled in his face. “Why Joon? To feel high and mighty? To show superiority? To prove that you got the better end of this deal?” Jungkook lunged again, this time Namjoon blocked him, fist connecting with JK’s cheekbone.
Yoongi could hear the fight, the fists hitting, knees connecting, an all-out brawl between leader and the golden boy. He stared at you, biting his lip.
“Should we?” You asked, panic rising in you.
“Let me, you stay here,” Yoongi stood and exited the room quickly.
Laying on his bed, you tried to rid yourself of the heinous thoughts you were having. Dating an Idol wasn’t what you pictured, it wasn’t what you planned, none of it made sense, and yet you understood so deeply the pain and sacrifice Namjoon went through. Listening to him get beat up was akin to watching 127 hours, Jungkook sawing off Namjoon bit by bit as he tried to free himself from the possession Bang had put over him.
“Fuck you, Joon,” Jungkook took a step back, surveying the damage he’d done to Namjoon. Bruises turning into black eyes, split lip, blood from his nose running down his shirt.
“I’m sorry, Jungkook,” Namjoon responded. The tears he’d held succumbing to the pain of a physical altercation.
“Save it, Joon,” Jungkook spit, his salty tears and snot mixing with his blood as it hit the floor in front of Namjoon’s feet. Namjoon saw the liquids pool on the floor and felt them ricocheting like a stray bullet, wounding him immediately.
“Jungkook, you know that I would ruin myself, over and over again, for you” Namjoon said, tears falling in rapid succession.
“So, fall on your sword, Joon,” Jungkook said, body rigid as he faced away from his hyung. He moved towards his room, never looking back at the mess he’d made.
Its been long since i wrote anything on Tumblr. So, here we go. Like always, this was supposed to be a drabble and the wordy THOT that i am, couldn’t contain myself. :P I hope you enjoy this Namjoon oneshot/drabble. Its a light, easy peasy, feel good kind writing for times as such! I hope you are well an safe in this quarantine phase of life.
I have 91 followers! NINETY-FRIGGING ONE. OMG! Y’aalllllllllll! I love you to bits and pieces and if you were here I would hug y’all tight until you suffocated! (i am dangerous) Jokes apart! Thank you so much for following me. :)
Also, a special thanks to my wifey @sunshineandserendipitychibaidi for beta reads and suggestions, additions, deletions and all the love for this and all my other work. Sarangheyo yabo!
(The GIF is not mine. Credit to the original creator)
(The GIF is not mine. Credit to the original creator)
Summary: Romance in Venice is a thing. Namjoon is Museum hopping when he finds the ONE, Y/N, a simple, quirky, nerdy girl.
Warnings: NONE. This is my attempt to write a fic from Namjoon’s point of view. I hope you like it as much as I did. Please feel free to drop a comment if you did or didn’t! Happy reads :)
Word count: 3173
Shall we?
She laid herself wide across the grassy meadows, stretching her arms in opposite directions and shutting her eyes. I watched her smile as the sun kissed her honeyed skin and the wind let her brown-black hair graze her beautiful face. Happiness radiated through her, traversed through her stretched arms and projected out of her slender fingers. I had never thought it was so simple to fall in love. But here I was looking at this girl, dressed in a mediocre white shirt and cotton cargos, on the far end of the world, basking in the European sun, oblivious to the materialistic problems of the world and living each day like it is a miracle. The sun was supposed to set in a couple of hours and it’s just us trespassing on a private property, something that I won’t approve of, but I would roll with it because I only get to see her today….. for the last time. I have a flight to board at noon tomorrow and I guess that this is it for us. Arithmetically speaking we have 15 hours before it all ends. Before I bid my goodbyes, stuff her in my memory bag and take her back wherever I would after.
But let me just back up. I’ll have to tell you where it all began. I was museum hopping (is that a thing? Well, bar hopping is, so, we can say museum-hopping could be too) in Venice. There is something about art and artifacts that sparks joy within me( Yeah, very Marie Kondo, I know!). It’s like the bulb goes on within me! But despite the beautiful paintings and artistry that would otherwise catch my attention, a girl with three different history books and a plethora of museum brochures, scribbling something in her traveler’s journal caught my attention. She had a sling bag attached to her shoulder, a denim jacket, and cargos. Unlike most girls around here who were dressed for the late-summer, she was dressed rather ordinarily. And I would have let her be but she was so engrossed in her work that it made me want to look at what she was writing so deeply. It was a rather empty place, vacant, with only the air conditioner buzzing in the background. She was so focused on her writing that she didn’t realize that she had dropped a few of her pamphlets down. I grabbed them for her as she moved past the painting to the other one while still scribbling. She reminded me of myself so much from when I was in my creative flow. That would go on and on for hours or there won’t be any for days. I smiled at her clumsiness. “Here,” I said. She looked up at me scrunching her nose, furrowing her brows, looking like a bunny hybrid. “You dropped these,”
“Thanks,” She said, struggling with the plethora of stationery at her expense. “I.. am sorry.. I am such a chaos.”
“That’s alright.”
She grabbed those and headed back to her work before she even heard me.
I was used to the opposite of what just happened, this was a new feeling and I didn’t quite register that. Not to sound absolutely arrogant at this point but there are people howling my name right outside this museum. And there she goes, looking at me like I don’t exist. Not going to lie but I love that. I absolutely love being a no one and not be looked at or up to all the time. The feeling of blending in has been snatched away from me very early to a point that doing everyday, mundane things seems like a mission of some sort. I love my job and the fame I receive with it, unquestionably but there are days where I would want to sleep with worries of any other 25-year-old boy.
There is this other female who is trying to sneakily take pictures of me and my bodyguard is dealing with that but I am living on the edge of two different worlds in this monumental place. That’s ironic because we are in a god dang museum!
Something within me has itched and I want to explore that feeling. It’s risky but I like that. And I, of all people demote stalking but here I go walking behind her, following her footsteps. I stop when she does, pretend to see the hangings on the well or read the cryptics on the placards but never not trailing her.
“I see what you are doing Mr. Kim Namjoon?”
“Nay?” I ask astonishingly in Hangul out of nervousness
“Yeah.. I see you are shadowing me.”
“I … umm.. Sorry...”
My bodyguard has a complete misinterpretation of the situation and has his guard’s up. I see him shuffling on his feet from the corner of my eyes but he maintains the distance nevertheless.
She looks at me, oh no, stares at me. Her stature is shorter than me, but she seems feisty. I hope she will blink but she doesn’t. She shakes her head instead to let the loose strands of hair fall away from her eyes. And dare they shuffle away from her slightly heated face. And I see her. Absolutely clearly. Her skin is tanned beautifully with light freckles dotting her cheeks that she doesn’t hide. I can barely see any makeup on her, perhaps a layer of SPF. It’s the rosy, corally blush that runs all the way from one cheek to another is her breathtakingly beautiful. It’s like she has been painted with all the colors on the summer palette. There are marks on either side of the bridge of her nose from wearing glasses. And there is so much more about her that is making me dizzy but I am interrupted by the lady herself.
“What do you want?” she demands, still staring at me.
“I.. Nothing” I fish out.
“Then why are you hovering?” At this point, she has stopped staring at me and she is packing whatever her books are into her bag.
“How do you know me?” I ask
“Only a fool would not know you at this point.”
I smile feeling better for my achievements and worldwide recognition but it's not the answer I am looking for.
“I know BTS. I listen to them often,” she explains. Smiles coyly or mockingly. I don't know.
“Thank you”
“I answered your question but you didn’t answer mine, why were you hovering me?”
“First of all, I didn’t mean to. And I am genuinely sorry about that. But I really want to know what is about these paintings that you are writing so much in your book” I said pointing at her bag that had all the stash.
“Oh! That is for a project I can’t talk about. It involves a lot of big names and companies and I happen to intern at one of those.”
“Sounds cool”
“It is cool. But it involves a lot of writing, A LOT. as you have seen” she smiles.
She picks her glasses from her bag as she puts them on her head.
“But it was nice meeting you. I hope you have fun here in Venice.” She lifts her arm to reach mine and I take hers and shake it casually.
“OH well, you too!.” She smiles casually as she leaves the museum.
She sure is something else.
After I take the necessary footage for the video uploads, I dash out for lunch. It's perfect weather to have lunch outside just like most of these people who are munching on salads and meat that look incredibly delicious. As the kind waitress serves my food and I succumb to the flavor bombs, I glance at the expanse of the city. The way people have spread out, clicking pictures, chatting, and well, indulging in other people-y activities, I notice the same cargo fit female eating on what looks like a sandwich from where I am. She is sitting on the edge of a park bench, surfing through her phone as she bites on to a sandwich nonchalantly. As soon as she finishes her sandwich she drops her phone in her pocket and ruminates on the chunky bread part as she looks around only to meet my eyes.
I wave and she waves back. She walks closer to my table and smiles
“Are you following me?” she asks and before I can answer she laughs saying she was kidding.
And we chit chat briefly before she asks me if I want to go see an exhibition on the other side of the town. And I ask no one before I say yes. My humble bodyguard obliges.
We take the Vaporetto first to this slightly uncrowded area and I can feel the summer breeze on my skin slightly better than before. It is slightly warm in this part of the town, warm and pleasant. She takes me through narrow stoned alleys that run parallel to the water streams. The sunlight creeps through the edges of the building intermittently. But there is never a dull moment, despite the tedious walking. Maybe because she talks so meticulously about everything in general. It’s amazing how she has views and opinions from politics to pizzas, she throws in a few quotes from age-old literature. The most beautiful thing, however, is that she asks me what I think of a particular thing. And she corrects me if I am wrong or adds on to the information. Thus far, I know she reads neurology books for fun and she has a Sylvia Plath quote tattooed on her spine. She wanted to be an astrobiologist when she was 16 and she takes online classes to quench her astrobio-thirst. She likes art because of her foster parents and she is still in touch with them. She hides her pain well between her wise words but I am okay with that. She knows quite a few things about me, my political stance that I don’t get to boast that often, my favorite books and my absolutely hateful experiences in the whole world.
The exhibition is tiny but it’s beyond beautiful. We seldom talk as she scribbles in her notes once again and I am lucky enough to see her black ink bleed well into the slightly brown recycled paper. I scribble things on my phone for future inspiration but nothing as heavy as her.
She makes speaking easy, she makes silence feel less heavy, she has an unprecedented sense of humor, never crossing the lines between humiliation and humor. And as the hours’ tick by I know that I know her, know how she chews on the pen when she is lost in thought, or how she nibbles on her lips when she is listening carefully or how she unknowingly touches her ear when she is talking or that there is a dark freckle or a mole under her left eye.
She isn’t complicated, she knows her rights and wrongs. And on the surface, she seems calm and put together and she leaves no doubt in letting you know that. But it is rather hard to believe that so much of that knowledge has not come through a first-hand experience. I reckon it would be rather impolite to ask someone about their hardships in the first meeting. So, I don’t. Also, it is hopeful of me to wish that we would meet again, perhaps to talk about her hardships.
She knows things about things and I adore a well-read person in general. She knows how to maintain a conversation. And mind if I say, there is something so carnal about people with general mannerisms.
That’s it, we took a stroll around in the alleys for a while before we hopped into a local cafe that served inexpensive Italian coffee and it was romantic. We laid our bags on the iron chairs and she hung her jacket on her chair before settling for the coffee. Momentarily none of us spoke. Honestly, it could be because we had exhausted all the conversational material we had or the fact that this was it. We knew it, in the back of our head that after this there was no more reason to be together. It stung slightly but there was no reason to feel morose.
The water lightly gushed against the stone walls sounding almost like a melody. Cracks between the sepia-colored stones bore plantlets that looked almost unreal. Flowers atop those little greeneries soaked as much sun as they could and there was something so pleasant about this particular place. It was buzzy without being irritating, it was uncongested without being dull. There were stories written in the walls of these bricks and one of them was OURS!
After what seems like infinity, she casually asks “Do you wanna see the sunset with me?”
“Um… Yes... I guess..” I smile as I answer.
“We might have to rent electric bikes. But I know you don’t have a license so we can share one If you are okay with it?” She looks hopefully at me.
I wouldn’t have missed the opportunity to ride with her.
She looks at my bodyguard with raise eyebrows and I say “I’ll take care of him”
I don’t. He follows us nevertheless despite the argument. It looks like she doesn’t mind but I do. It would have been nicer to not have him buzzing like a satellite over my head. Nevertheless, we drive through countryside vineyards and acres and acres of land with either vines or pastures. She peeks over through the side mirrors of her rented Vespa to look at me while driving and as soon as I catch her she pretends to not look at me. And it’s cute. In about 40 mins she stops abruptly and so does my bodyguard who looks rather funny on that scooter with that helmet. He stands there as I ask him to but she plunges the fence before I finish talking to him. Her bag and jacket are left carelessly on the scooter as she speeds down on the pasture. I take my own sweet time crossing the fence and slowly maneuver towards her direction. She has settled down in the middle of nowhere. It’s beautiful and she is too but it worries me to be there. And that’s unlike her. She has always been the ‘put-together’ kind and seeing her drop her precious bag even for a moment makes me chuckle to myself.
And that is that. She lay right next to me as we watched the sun go down. It was surreal. The way the sky had turned orange and then lavender and then all shades of blue. The stars speckled the sky and moon predisposed itself marking the beginning of its time. Crickets chirped near and far and the last faint hint of orange was gone too.
She looked at me one last time with so much hope and I knew she wanted to say something. I wanted to too but there was nothing I had. The ride back to the Vaporetto was silent and heavy. I held her waist as she drove us back and she shuddered under my touch but never refused. The loyal satellite followed me as usual. We boarded the Vaporetto back to the place it all began.
The tiny lights adorned all around the streets. She stood close to me, the tiny ship silently swayed on the waters. I glanced at her million times without her noticing me. I saw the way the fluorescent played on her skin and how her pupils danced as she looked from one thing to another. I watched her nibble her bottom lip incessantly and I wanted to physically stop her from doing that. But this occasional brushing of skin has made me flush and I can’t think straight.
She looks up over her shoulders at me and she doesn’t say anything, she doesn’t shy away from me. Her gaze holds mine for the briefest period before she clicks her tongue together and snaps her fingers at me.
“I took a picture of this moment. This is how I will remember you, my friend” she says smilingly.
I don’t say anything and just smile back at her.
The night sky has donned over Venice and the lights are on all across us. The public dormitory that she is staying in for a while is not too far. So, I decided to drop her and walk to my hotel. She walks impossibly close and midway through she intertwines her finger with mine. I hold her hand, feeling the warmth between her hands and the way the spaces between her fingers feel under mine. My hands cloud most of hers but it’s far from being bothersome. As we reach her dorms she cuts the cumbersome silence.
“I had the most incredible time with you today. Thank you”. There was a timbre in her voice. Mellow yet sensual. The grip of her hand on mine becomes relaxed.
“Me too.” I say. She waits for me to say something else. Guess I make her wait longer than she anticipated.And she lets go of my hand. Her dark eyes are now slightly sad at not my departure but the lack of words. But I am trying, trying very hard to say something that she would remember forever but it's a race between being platonic and not making this any more awkward. And I am on the threshold of it.
She looks at me one last time and fakes a smile before she turns to leave. If I know anything I know for sure that she is hurt and the reason is me. She whispers a hollow “Bye Namjoon” under her breath as she pushes the iron gate open.
I don’t waste a second as I grab her wrist and turn her around. Clasping her face into my hands I press onto her delicate lips. She tiptoes herself to reach me and I hold onto her like she is my last saving breath. She is gentle under me, giving in to my overly frantic kiss. Her grip on my sleeves tightens as I dive into the corners of her mouth experiencing every little sweet nothings we missed during the say. I let her go only because I am out of breath and not because I want to. I could do this all day if she let me but my heart is assaulting my ribcage and her eyes are soft and her cheeks are turning scarlet and everything is spinning. I gently place her back on the ground.
She nods involuntarily reasoning at what just happened, eyes still on the ground shy to meet mine.
I lift her chin and tell her
“I wanted to return your favor and give you something to remember. I hope you liked it“
She shies away as she plants a kiss on my cheeks before handing me a chit of paper with her email address.
“Write to me. I’ll wait.”
Just a friendly reminder ~Asks are always open. Drop in your requests/ questions and I’ll try my best to write/reply to all of them.~
just found your blog and i definitely would like to request a drabble! your writing is so nice and just wow. may i possibly request a drabble where you accidentally call him daddy and he thinks y/n is vanilla so like he never tried stuff like this on her but he shows that he really likes it? uGh thank you omg pls
Guys this is a Namjoon x reader drabble btw!
~
Your mind was racing with pleasure, eyes closed as your nails were digging into Namjoon’s back. His hips were deadly, hitting all the right spots inside of you. He chuckles at you when he feels you clench your walls around him, causing him to pound harder.
“You feel good, baby? Does that feel good?” he breathes out. You nod vigorously, opening your eyes to see the heavenly sight in front of you. His body was dripping in sweat, his irises lust-filled.
You moaned, “Y-yes, Daddy.”
Your eyes widened instantly when you figured out what you just said, mouth open in shock. Namjoon quirked an eye up at you, cocking his head to the side as a slight smirk crept up his face.
“I-I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have s-said that–”
Namjoon’s laugh cut you off, leaning down to press a kiss on your lips, “Don’t worry, baby.” His thrusts got slower but even deeper than before, making you groan. “I really like it.”
“You do?” You tell him in a quiet voice, your cheeks red in embarrassment.
Without expecting it, he suddenly pounded into you much harder and your nails claw his back from the sudden sensations. “Mhmm,” he chuckles, “I never knew you’d like these type of stuff, y/n.”
“Oh, there’s still so much to know about me, daddy,” you teased, biting your lips to suppress a giggle when you felt his cock twitch inside of you.
“Hmm, is that so? What a dirty girl you are, baby.” he mutters right above your ear, sending shivers throughout your body. “Now, do you wanna cum for me?”
Your eyes rolled to the back of your head from the sound of himself calling him that word, one of your kink finally coming to life. “Yes, daddy. Please make me cum.”
*requested number 194 from this list. and its perfect cause its gloomy and raining here :)
picking. placing. panicking. then, a boom nearly shook your window out of place. You gulped, glancing over at the time, heart sinking. Namjoon wasn’t even due home for another two hours. You huffed, sitting on the window seat, blanket draped over your shoulders and flash light in hand. You watched as rain drops slowly trickled down the frosted glass, a soft sigh slipping past your lips. Darkness soon consumed the room around you. You gulped, fingers fidgeting with the switch on the flash light, a loud crash causing you to nearly jump out of your skin. You shined the light on the figure in front of you. Namjoon sighed, looking around.
“Why is it dark in here?” he asked. You gazed at him in terror.
“baby? are you okay?” he asked, shutting the door behind him. You remained silent. He looked at your clearly horrified face, taking a gasp when the realization hit him.
“You’re not scared of the dark are you?” he asked. You slowly nodded, pulling the blanket closer to your frame. He took a moment, then turned the flashlight on his phone on. Making his way around the living room, he lit candle after candle, illuminating the dark room around you. He sat in front of you, handing you a cup of hot cocoa.
