panics in mochi

that pesky little thing called fate really is a bitch.

pairing: min yoongi x reader

tag / warnings: some cursing

author note: this story more than likely will be posted once a week as long as work doesn’t get in the way. hope you enjoy! <3 let me know if you want to be on the tag list!!

The red string of fate. That pesky little thing called destiny that was tied to another person and locked in an eternal circle; a love loop. The very thing that changed the trajectory of my life, that blossomed chance and coincidence, that pushed me onto a different path and had me headed towards an individual that was about to make my life a living hell.

that pesky little thing called fate really is a bitch. 

pairing: min yoongi x reader

tag / warnings: some cursing

author note: sorry for being gone for so long! life happened. but i’m back with our favorite mint haired boy, min yoongi. this chapter really is an opener for the oc and her life. watch out for a certain mint haired boy. i hope you enjoy <3

The red string of fate. That pesky little thing called destiny that was tied to another person and locked in an eternal circle; a love loop. The very thing that changed the trajectory of my life, that blossomed chance and coincidence, that pushed me onto a different path and had me headed towards an individual that was about to make my life a living hell.

New Min Yoongi story getting posted tonight!!

Hope you guys enjoy!

What happens when you start to fall out of love with your husband? What happens when that husband is Kim Namjoon?

pairing: idol husband Namjoon x reader

tag / warnings: mild allusions to smut but very briefly and very much just about y/n remembering how things used to be, Namjoon’s long fingers and not much else.

author note: thank you to everyone who liked the preview!! I’m excited to continue wildflower and I hope you like this chapter!!

The descent down the elevator made my stomach churn. Yumi bounced up and down without a care in the world while I just stared blankly at the reflection in the elevator door. Who even was this person staring back at me? She was so unknown at this point. My life practically just consisted of being a single mother with the ever constant absence of my husband. I had no job to speak of, no career…no dream. Not anymore as that had long been given up in favor of Namjoon and his pursuit and career; his dream.

Thoughts raced through my head a mile a minute as the ding signaled that we were at our destination and as I began to walk Yumi to her preschool all I could think about was the man upstairs in our apartment. How much of myself had I given at this point? How much was there even left to give?

“Mommy!” My thoughts were interrupted by Yumi. My Yumi who looked so much like her father the older she got I was starting to get scared that no part of her would resemble me; the person who has cared for her more often than not.

“What love?” She was still so small and every fiber of my being felt like I needed to stay in the situation I was in just to appease her childhood and make it the most positive environment I could. But I was also starting to become so broken down at this point I wasn’t sure I could feel any kind of love or otherwise and that scared me above all. Who was I becoming? So callus and worn down that nothing, not even the return of my husband, could make me feel a positive emotion? He was, after all, the person that was supposed to do just that. Our life together had started off so great, so full, but now it was dying and at this point I was starting to let it.

“Aren’t you excited? Daddy’s home!” Excited was an extreme overstatement but I couldn’t exactly tell her that so I just smiled and beckoned her forward into the preschool doors. She was still enamored by her father and it broke my heart to think of him; no longer my Namjoon. He was such a stranger to me as he was never home and it terrified me to go back to the apartment and continue my normal routine. So much so that I walked the city for hours until it felt like blisters had found my feet and I could finally go back to collect Yumi. To my surprise and horror however, as I arrived back at her school, someone was already there waiting.

“Hey Love,” Frowning as my husband stood at my approach and smiled at me, I made sure to stop far enough out of his reach so that from a distance it looked as how I felt; that we were strangers to each other. “I thought I would surprise you both since you never came home.”

“Surprised indeed.” I continued to frown as he stood there; tall, broad, and totally handsome and so totally not mine. “I thought you didn’t even know where Yumi went to school.” Even though my words were seething he didn’t flinch like expected. Instead he beamed again and started to approach me.

“You don’t give me enough credit. Now,” He went to sling an arm around my shoulder and I flinched, moving away. He gave me a dark look but didn’t press on the matter and instead moved forward towards the door. “Let’s get our daughter.”

I paused in the inbetween - hanging completely. If I moved forward I would have to brush past him but if I stayed behind our daughter would be left waiting. Moving forward ever so slightly and slowly so that precious Yumi wouldn’t be left wondering where I was, Namjoon’s chest came in contact with my shoulder and as he moved forward he pressed hard against my back.

“Babe,” He said low and in my ear, sending chills up my spine. “Don’t look so disgusted. You’re mine after all.”

***

To say that Namjoon being around Yumi made her exuberant was an understatement and she always got this way when he came home, for however brief it may be. She was simply too overjoyed. Too young to understand that this was all just temporary. That this man, who used to be our Namjoon, was just going to leave again and in the process leave us behind; alone and waiting. He would go off like he always did; travel constantly, go and see the world, get showered by love and compliments by enamoured fans all the while we struggled silently because he wasn’t there to see our pain and comfort us. He wasn’t there to see the aftermath of devastated Yumi who demanded she slept in his spot until she felt okay again. He wasn’t there to help with the havoc he created just by being.

But I knew the truth about him.

How cruel he could be, how dark. How he monitored my friends and forbade me to become one with any other man that wasn’t in his inner circle. How he insisted that he have a tracker on my phone, even to monitor me when he was away. How he would ghost me for weeks at a time and later claim that it was all work, that things were too overwhelming and he just couldn’t deal with it and us all at the same time and he needed to prioritize. But then, watching all the content they would put out to appease little Yumi’s desire to see her father even when he was on the other side of the world and I couldn’t bear the thought of looking at him, I would catch glimpses of him having true fun and it would just make my skin crawl.

I couldn’t be happy for him, not anymore.

Not after all those times we needed him since he just reminded me of so many horrible things now. Not after that time Yumi had the flu and was puking and shivering and running the highest fever she had ever had and I cried myself to sleep once her fever broke and I could rest. Not when she was so small and tiny, in the hospital begging for her father as I sat there and tried to be both, tried to soothe her, tried anything I could to comfort our daughter and felt so terribly rejected every time she asked for Namjoon. Not when he was off somewhere filming, performing, enjoying his life without us.

“Love,” He interrupted my thoughts as I sat at the table with him long after Yumi went to bed. Namjoon actually took the time to play with her before shutting himself in his studio just in time for me to do all the ugly work of making her go to sleep. “You’re picking at your hands and they are starting to bleed. Stop,” He was so quick, so unbelievably quick, as he grabbed my hands and enveloped them in his massive ones. Long fingers curled around mind and he looked at me again; darkly. I knew what he was thinking in that moment but the last time he touched me like that, with those long fingers, was right after Yumi had been born. He was gone too often, smelt of different smells and not the Namjoon that I had grown to love when I was younger. He wasn’t the same. He had changed. “You shouldn’t do that you know. It makes me mad.”

When he looked at me it was still filled with a hunger I used to thrive on. Now though, he was so unbelievably different and no matter how familiar his touch at that moment felt like I had to remind myself of that as I exhaled the breath I didn’t know I had been holding, excused myself to the restroom and cried silently into a towel as I left Namjoon and his hungry gaze alone in the kitchen. Long ago, when I was a different person, I would have fed into the hungry gaze; let him ravage me and have total control. Now was so drastically different and even if he couldn’t understand why it didn’t matter because I knew. I was still crying and with Namjoon I was somehow always finding myself like that; broken and alone.

Later, when it was time to sleep and I had pulled myself out of the bathroom, I was so unbelievably relieved when the late night fell and he shut himself away in his studio. I would be able to get to sleep before he would come crawling into bed at whatever hour in the morning. At least then I wouldn’t have to deal with him. Brushing out my hair after scrubbing my face ragged so my eyes didn’t seem so puffy I began to really think.

Namjoon.

The Namjoon who was idolized all over the world was just down the hall from me and I, the person who was married to the man that millions loved, would have rather been anywhere else at that moment.

Why? I couldn’t help but ponder.

Why was it that so much had changed between us?

Was it when he stopped bringing me flowers before he came back home no matter how long he was away for?

Was it when he missed the birth of our daughter because he was stuck in Japan for promotions and filming?

Was it when, after all of the events he missed, after all the nights that had gone by of sleeping alone, after all the firsts of Yumi’s gone unwitnessed, that I started to feel numb around him?

“Love,” Shocked, I jumped at the sound of his voice coming from the doorway. “How long have you been sitting there? It’s almost 1am.” Frowning I turned towards him. He stood there, looking like the most delicious thing I had ever laid my eyes on. If I wanted to I could let him have me, take total control and use me for whatever he wanted. But that woman had long been suppressed and instead there sat the woman who just shrugged, put her brush down and walked towards the right side of the bed to pretend to sleep so she could avoid talking to him.

“Goodnight,” I spoke softly, shutting the lamp off that sat on the bedside table next to me. In what felt like a different life that table used to be filled with photographs and memories long since past. Taken down in favor of an empty space and to appease my stomach so I never had to get nauseous looking at them again. There used to be pictures of us in Jeju long before I had become pregnant, us on our honeymoon in Italy, us in Paris at night right at the front of the Louvre all lit up behind us, us as an us long before the us became him and then me. Namjoon caught it though just before the darkness consumed us. Slipping into bed with me I felt him shift closer, his hand slink up my side, arm to envelope my stomach. He tugged lightly, trying to pull me closer in a nice way but I stubbornly laid planted, rooted to my spot.

“Tomorrow we’ll put the pictures back.” He said finally after I refused to move. “We’ll have breakfast like a family. You’ll take Yumi to school with me and after,” He sighed, a warm breath that reached the nape of my neck as he scooted closer to put his chest to my back for the second time that day. “You’ll be all mine.”

What happens when you start to fall out of love with your husband? What happens when that husband is Kim Namjoon?

pairing: idol husband Namjoon x reader

tag / warnings: tbh, I’m not 100% sure I will continue this fic. It’s mostly a test run…so please let me know if y’all are interested in reading this story!! No warnings so far, but if continued there will be.

author note: I love Namjoon and I think we would be a wonderful husband but this story isn’t about that. This story is what happens after. After a long time of being together. After having a kid. After being married to a man who is married to his work and a group of other boys who all depend on him to lead. This is what happens when you start to question just how much you’ve devoted to Namjoon and his dream and start to realize you aren’t quite sure what yours ever was.

“Hey love,” Namjoon smiles as he continues to scrape semi-burnt eggs out of the pan in his hand onto a bed of steaming rice. Seeing us enter the kitchen makes his head perk up and his stupid dimpled face to stretch with a gesture I couldn’t return just yet.

He had gotten home late last night - or maybe early this morning - I wasn’t quite sure. Honestly, I hadn’t bothered to check my phone and instead fell asleep in our daughters bed at around 2am. If he had come home before or after that it wouldn’t have really made any difference at this point.

“Where are you going?” He asked now noticing the bag around my shoulder, the shoes in one hand and our daughter’s small hand in the other. “Aren’t you going to eat?” The eagerness in his eyes makes me want to vomit and I just look at him blankly.

“I don’t eat breakfast.” I utter, voice dead and void of any and all emotion. He really forgot didn’t he? Had it really been that long? Had endless life on the road made it so impossible to remember his family?

“But,” He faulted, stalling. “I did my best to make it. Practically from scratch, even.” He laughed a little. “It’s only kind of burnt.”

“Then I’m sure it’s to your taste.”

“Daddy!” Interrupted before he could respond, Yumi, the child we both shared who was now almost three years old, screamed as she beamed up at him and yanked her palm out of mine. Bouncing up and down to get his attention - something that was only focused on me - made me immediately step forward to grab her back.

Something about Namjoon being so absent from Yumi’s life really had made me start to hate him. Sure, I was sad sometimes about the ever present absence, but every time our daughter woke up from a nightmare screaming her tiny lungs out and crying for the only thing I should have but could never actually give her - her father - made a fire in me grow and grow until I was almost absolutely sure it would burn down everything around me. It was making me hate him more and more and more and now, with him being off the road for who knows how long, I wasn’t sure what to do with this stranger standing before me.

“We need to go.” I tugged on little Yumi’s hand, guiding her out of the apartment kitchen and towards the front entrance. “Bye.”

[def.]

{53/252} Blonote

붙다 - attach, stick

[1:14am]

The bitterness set in as the clock ticked away and you were alone in the bed you shared with a boy you were beginning to question if he truly loved you or not. The dinner you had made for your anniversary sad cold and untouched, the candles you had lit earlier were now burned down to tiny little nubs, the dress you had specifically bought for tonight sat balled up on the floor; completely discarded as you drank and drank and drank bottle after bottle of your favorite grapefruit soju. When would he finally show up? Bitterness was at an all time high and you couldn’t forgive him this time. Not again. Not on your anniversary. JB, you thought. Why? Tears were well past the point of falling as if all the salt in your body had been expunged and you genuinely were confused. He said at noon he would be home at five yet it was well past one am and you were still alone.

A ding on your phone alerted your hazy gaze away from glaring holes in the wall opposite you towards the tiny little notification from none other than Jackson. It was simply a photograph, snapped unassumingly by him with the caption wish you could have came out tonight. And sitting there, amongst the rest of the boys was none other than the man himself; your JB. Well, maybe not. Not anymore. Not when he clearly went out for drinks with the guys over coming home like he said for the anniversary you thought he actually cared about.

A simple ? was all you sent back as real questions began running a mile a minute through your whole being. As if the universe didn’t hate you enough tonight your phone chimed again but this time it wasn’t from your friend but from someone who you thought was more than that. JB.

don’t take it out on jackson. b home soon.

Tossing your phone down onto the bed you shut the light off, rolled over onto your side, hugged your knees together and started to cry more salty tears silently into your pillow.

You’d wait like you always did. You’d listen like you always would but the disappointment growing in the pit of your stomach wouldn’t be as easily won over and forgotten. If Jackson hadn’t sent you a picture and your confusion as to why he also thought you for some reason couldn’t have tagged along tonight JB probably would never have even messaged you.

Some boyfriend. It was the only thought that lingered as you lay there, hearing the click of the front apartment door at around three am. The hallway light illuminating the open door as the bed sunk lower. You were stiff as much as you could be while also being completely depressingly drunk; the salt from earlier sticking to everything and you couldn’t help but wonder why he wasn’t trying to sooth you.

“Night,” he muttered as the shifted, getting more comfortable far away from you.

“I hate you.”

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