#bts knj

[sopejinsunflower]

a/n: Again, this one is inspired by a dream I had of Namjoon but I wrote this on two different days. I kind of lost the plot along the way lol but I hope you still enjoy this little dirty one shot. I kinda went off a tangent lmao xD

Title definition: something for something, an equal exchange.

Warning: 18+, minors DNI

Summary: Kim Namjoon and Park Jimin are both heirs to their families’ conglomerates. One has you under his thumb for awhile now while the other has only just noticed you, the only girl on campus he doesn’t really know much about. But your mysteriousness is both a curiosity and a business risk. Little do they know, they’re not the only ones with an agenda.

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x you (main pair), Jimin x you

Tags: University AU! Chaebol, dom/sub undertones, dirty talk, oral sex, penetrative unprotected sex, submissive Joonie, triangle relationship implied.

Word count: 12k

Rich kid Kim Namjoon. Bad boy Kim Namjoon. Fuck your brains out Kim Namjoon. Will only date you for three months Kim Namjoon.

You’ve heard the rumours and the titles that stick to the back of this man’s broad shoulders, heard the stories from the broken-hearted girls of the way he’d swept them off their feet only to drop them crashing to the ground yet they sighed and wished they had been good enough for him to be kept. The other girls still hope that one day they’ll catch his eyes next and the guys worship him like some sort of sex deity that they pray to for luck on their first dates.

You wagered going to a private university for the elite would be crazy but this was absolutely bonkers. It was like living in Kim Namjoon’s world, everything and anything revolved around him. So you keep your head low and your nose clean and stay out of everybody’s way. It’s your freshman year and Kim Namjoon is a senior; you may share the same program but it’s a safe distance away. Safe.

Or so you thought until that night of Park Jimin’s birthday party, thrown in the lobby of the guys’ dormitory quarters. Everyone was invited. The little sprite of a man with his dangly earrings and his ripped jeans had thrown the paper invites down from the rooftop of the main campus building a week prior before shouting, “Come to my birthday party! Everyone’s invited!” Him and his two friends, Kim Taehyung and Jeon Jungkook, managed to run away before the guards could catch them. The whole campus cheered as they got away, like some bold heroes who managed to pull off the biggest coupe.

So here you are, in a pair of jeans and a sheer white blouse, walking amongst the half-drunk crowd like an invisible person, a beer bottle in hand. No one knows who you are, no one cares to know. The girls are all dressed up like they’re in a club, sexy dresses and tiny skirts and tops that seem to be a second skin, skimpy clothes they pull off so well to look alluring instead of trashy. You guess that this is what money can buy. Wait, or was it the other way around? I don’t know.

Whispers through the crowd confirms that he will be here, Kim Namjoon. Of course he would. Kim Namjoon is everywhere, even at the birthday party of his rival. It’s almost like he runs the society here. President Kim Namjoon, overseer of the student body, unofficially. It’s like he wants to be at the centre of everything that goes on in and around campus, and you guess he kind of is. His father is the biggest benefactor to the university and everyone knows how much the father dotes on his only heir. Kim Namjoon is untouchable.

You stand back, blending into the crowd, sticking close to the shadows when he finally arrives, blond hair slicked back, sunglasses on top of his head, the denim jacket sleeves rolled up at the wrist. The crowd cheers and he raises his hands into the air, greeting them, his rings and bracelets glinting in the dim lighting.

It’s tacky. It’s ridiculous you almost roll your eyes but still, you can’t help but look. He is mesmerising, charming and, if you say so yourself, very handsome. Tall and handsome. You watch the girls around you swoon, calling out to him, subtly pushing their breasts together, adjusting their skirts to ride up a little bit more. You move away, slinking even further to the back, moving away towards the food table where the crowd is thinner.

The air smells of sweat and sickly sweet perfume of both males and females. You pick up a cupcake with vanilla frosting and take a bite, savouring the sweetness in your mouth as you chew slowly. Suddenly someone throws their arm around your neck and you drop the rest of the cupcake to the floor.

“You came!” Jimin shouts into your ear.

You try to wriggle free but his grip only tightens. “I came for the food,” you say blandly, “and you make me drop my cupcake.”

Jimin laughs, his famously cheeky grin plastered on his face. He’s half intoxicated, you could tell from the carefree way he speaks with you. He takes two new cupcakes and places them in your hand. “There’s always more where that came from. You’re not going to wish me my birthday?” He leans close to you, lightly tugging on the hem of your blouse.

“Happy birthday,” you say, taking the cupcakes from him, peeling back the paper before biting into one. “Namjoon’s here,” you add nonchalantly.

Jimin’s face immediately turns frosty, rolling his eyes away to look at the crowd around the newcomer. “Of course he is.” He lets go of you and for a second you thought that your cousin was going to go and kick Kim Namjoon out of the party but he only picks up another beer, uncaps it easily with the edge of the table and takes a swig. He turns back to you, pointing with a finger of the hand holding the bottle. “Don’t leave without saying goodbye to your oppa,” he says with a wink as he jogs away into the crowd, whooping as he goes.

The music starts up again, louder this time, the base thumping against your chest. It’s almost like a recharge for the crowd as they jump up and down, yelling and shouting in excitement. You lean against the food table, calmly munching on your third cupcake. Well, second and a half, actually, if you count the half on the floor. You turn to pick out a different flavoured cupcake when you feel a presence behind you, dark and looming.

A warm hand slides around your waist, the grip strong. You freeze, your heart hammering in your chest because you know, you know who it is. You can smell him, not his cologne but just him, the musk of a man who knows he’s in charge.

You don’t dare to move, suddenly feeling cold. He leans closer, his front sticking to your back that you can feel every curve of his muscle, including the soft bulk resting against the bottom of your spine.

“For someone who doesn’t want any attention, you sure stick out,” he breathes into your ear, his voice soft but deep, his breaths tickling the nape of your neck.

You tilt your head a little to the side to try and catch Kim Namjoon’s eyes. “What makes you think I don’t want any attention?”

He pauses, thinking. Then he chuckles as he steps back, his hand sliding away. “You’re wearing jeans to a party but since no one else is wearing it, it’s more obvious, isn’t it?” You fully turn to face him. He’s taller up close and even more good-looking. It feels like a magnet, drawing you in, wanting to put your hand up against the white shirt underneath the denim jacket and feel his warmth again.

“I don’t think I’ve seen you around before,” he speaks, making you tear your eyes away from his chest to look up at him, a little taken aback.

But you shrug instead. “Why would you?” You pick up a red velvet cupcake this time, slowly peeling back the paper holder before pinching a piece off and plopping it into your mouth.

“Is that, what, your fourth one?”

You look at him, frowning. “I didn’t take you as a stalker.”

He smiles, his perfect teeth showing. “I can’t help it when I’m attracted to things that are…” He looks at you from head to toe before finishing, “a little peculiar.”

You stare at him, unsure if you should feel complimented or offended. You stuff the rest of the cupcake into your mouth, brush your hands together and make to leave. He steps in your way, stopping you. “Leaving already?”

“Yes,” you answer softly, looking down to the floor. Something in his voice warns you not to look into his eyes lest you change your mind to walk away. “Enjoy the party.”

He catches your arm and pulls you back, hard enough for it to sting. He leans closer. “I didn’t say you could leave.”

“I-”

“Y/n.”

You turn to see Jimin storming towards you, Taehyung and Jungkook by his side. From the crowd, you see Namjoon’s posse, Jung Hoseok and Min Yoongi, emerge, hands shove deep into the pockets of their jackets. They glance at Jimin and his friends once before taking their place next to their leader. You’re standing in between the six of them, caught in what looks like a probable fight.

Jimin pushes his hair back as he licks his lips. He nods, gesturing to the grip Namjoon has over your upper arm. “You might want to let go of her,” he suggests, his voice even.

Namjoon looks from Jimin to you then back at Jimin. “Oh, sorry. Is she yours, Park?”

You roll your eyes but Jimin’s lips curl up on one side. “Something like that.”

It takes a full ten seconds before Namjoon finally lets go, holding his hands up in surrender. “Sorry, brother. Didn’t know she was spoken for. Not your usual type, is she?”

Jimin looks disgusted. He gestures for you to leave but as you pass by him, he touches your arm for you to stop. “I’ll see you around, kitten,” he mutters.

You fight the urge to pull your arm away, knowing too well the dramatics he’s going for. But he did save you so you put on a smile. “See you,” you say, pausing, making sure all six can hear you. “Oppa.”

You walk away, hurrying your footsteps to leave, pushing through the throngs of sweaty people to get to the exit. Whatever that is going on between the two groups, you want no part of. You hope it doesn’t turn into a brawl but these are rich supposedly classy people; they don’t dirty their well-manicured hands that way, though you are sure your cousin can hold his own.

As much as Park Jimin annoys the hell out of you, he’s been a sort of protector to you, an older brother position that he assigned himself back when you were kids. You never agreed to any of his antics, acting like some kind of knight in shining armour but you don’t hate it either. You appreciate his presence, it kept all the bullies away throughout school, with a price of course. However, as much as Jimin loves the spotlight on himself, loves the money, loves being a part of the elites, you are the total opposite and it was your one and only condition; to be kept out of his circle.

You get back to your dorm, the room dark and empty. Anya, your roommate, is still at the party. You undress and get ready for bed, slipping under the covers. You fall asleep pretty easily, the wind through the opened window nice and cool, lulling you into dreamland. But just as you’re about to dream, you wake up with a start, your eyes opening and scanning the room.

Something feels off. Your eyes fall on the other bed across the room but Anya is still not back. Something catches your attention in your peripheral vision and you see a figure standing by the door. Tall and definitely not Anya. Not even a female. You sit up but the figure is already by your bed in three full strides. A hand covers your mouth as another pushes you back onto your pillow by the shoulder, the rings digging into your skin.

“Shh, don’t make any noise.”

Your eyes widen, recognising the voice. You shake his hand off of your face before whisper-shouting, “What the hell are you doing here, Namjoon?!”

He smiles, a little too menacingly. “I don’t like being told no.”

You scoff. “I don’t doubt that.”

“What do you mean by that?” He looks a little offended which is funny if the situation isn’t a little suspicious. He just broke into your room and is now sitting on your bed, leaning over you, telling you to be quiet because he doesn’t like being told no. It sounds like the intro of a crime documentary.

“Well, aren’t you daddy’s little prince?” you say, playing on his hurt feelings. “Always getting your way, no consequences because daddy will bail you out of every little mess you made.” It felt good saying it but now, looking at his face, you’re not sure if it was smart. You’re still just another female underneath a large man who could have his way with you and, like you said, will get away with it.

He grits his teeth, his jaws ticking. “And what about you? Hiding behind Park Jimin’s money and influence. What are you? His little private whore?”

You hold back the acidic words in your mouth, letting them burn on your tongue before swallowing them. “What do you want?”

Namjoon smiles again, almost leering. His eyes glint in the shadows as his hand, the one resting on your shoulder, moves slowly down your arm, tracing your skin with the tip of his finger. “I want what Jimin has.”

You let out a chuckle. “You have more than that. What are you even talking about?”

He shakes his head. “No, I want the one thing he loves most.”

You swallow your saliva. “Well it’s not here.”

“You sure?”

His tracing finger moves back up to your shoulder then your neck, stopping under your chin to tip your face up. He leans forward, his nose touching yours. He doesn’t answer you but your lips connect with his, his fingers holding your chin, making sure you’re not able to turn away from his kiss. It’s deep and hungry, his tongue snaking out to lick your bottom lip before tugging on it between his teeth hard enough for you to gasp. In that moment, you feel his tongue against yours, prodding, tasting, licking, entangling.

Your hands push up against his chest but he barely even budge. A moan escapes your lips and instead of the disgust that you should feel, instead of fear and anger, want and lust bubbles in the pit of your stomach, boiling and boiling. Your pushing hands are suddenly pulling him close by his jacket, arching your back so you are pressed up against him, wanting him even closer. A warning goes off somewhere in the back of your head but with your tongues at war, your lips locked together, you give it no mind, not even comprehending why it’s sounding off. You’ll think about it later.

Namjoon climbs into your bed, shucking off his jacket to the floor the same time you kick your blanket down to your feet. His knees rest on either side of your hips as he leans into you, sucking on your tongue, shoving his own as far down as he can into your sighing mouth. His other hand travels down your side and sneaks up your thin tank top to cup your breast, thumb flicking against your already hardened nipple.

You writhe under him as he trails wet kisses down your neck, sucking on your sensitive spots until you gasp and moan. He peppers the top of your chest with more kisses, humming as he goes. He pulls your top up to reveal your breasts, using both hands to knead on them a little more forcefully that it hurts. He looks at your face, your eyes scrunching up tight, your mouth agape, breathing hard. “Look at you,” he says softly with a hint of a smile. “Shall I keep going, princess?”

You nod, not trusting yourself to speak. He doesn’t need to be pushed, latching onto your nipple and suckling on it like a babe. He twirls it in between his teeth, tongue drawing circles in ways that you can’t help but moan out his name. “Namjoon,” you whine. “Feels so good, Namjoon. Mmhh.”

He does the same with your other nipple, rolling his tongue over the perkiness. When he has had enough, he moves further down, delighted to see that your underwear already has a wet patch. “Already so wet for me?” He chuckles to himself, pushing his nose against the wet patch and taking a deep breath. Something about it makes you let out another soft moan, opening your legs for him.

He pushes your soaked panties aside to reveal your glistening cunt, dripping wet with slick. He lets out this dark guttural sound, almost feral and for a short second, you wish he would devour you like the animal he is. You let out a loud mewl the moment the flat of his tongue touches your drooling hole, collecting the juice and bringing it up to swirl it around your swollen clit. He clasps his mouth over your little nub, moaning as he does, savouring the taste.

“Taste so good, princess,” he moans. “So fucking good. Fucking hell.” He pushes your legs further open, holding your thighs in place as he eats you out, your voice echoing off the walls, not even caring if your next door neighbour could hear you. All you can think about is that Kim Namjoon has his face in between your legs, buried deep in your pussy, licking and slurping as if you’re a meal and he’s been famished.

“Namjoon, Namjoon,” you call out, getting close to your high. “Fuck, Namjoon. I’m close. Please, please. I’m so close.”

“Come for me,” he urges. “Come on my tongue.”

You do, pushing his head in as the waves come crashing down. You arch your back as your eyes roll into your head, gasping so hard no sound comes out of your parted lips. Your thighs shake as your orgasm travels through you and when you’ve come down, panting and limp on the bed, Namjoon sits up, licking his lips in satisfaction. He wipes his chin with the back of his hand, eyes raking your body.

He stands up and picks up his jacket, holding it over his shoulder.

“Leaving already?” you ask, ironically repeating his own words from earlier tonight back at him. You push up on your elbows, looking up at him through your lashes.

He lets out a small snicker. “For now,” he says, eyeing you from the door. “Something tells me you’re a whole lot of danger, princess.”

A small smile creeps up your lips, feigning innocence. “But not dangerous enough for you to bury your head in between my legs?”

He laughs, shaking his head. “Can’t help it. I needed a taste.”

“And?”

He opens the door and steps outside. “And I think you’re trouble. So I’ll need to figure out if you’re worth it or not.” He gives you one last cheeky smile and closes the door and you can hear his footsteps walking down the hallway.

You lay back onto your pillow, staring at the ceiling. Before long, you start laughing to yourself, softly. You can still smell him on you. On the nightstand, your phone vibrates for an incoming call. Park Jimin’s name flashes across the screen.

“Yeah,” you answer breathlessly, putting it on loudspeaker, too lazy to hold it to your ear. You still feel a little weak from your orgasm. You can hear the party in the background.

“Did he pay you a visit?”

You giggle. “Yes.”

Jimin laughs from the other side, a sarcastic one. “I can’t believe that bastard.”

“Oh, it wasn’t so bad,” you say, thinking back at the way he laps on your cunt. “He’s a good eater.”

Jimin lets out an angry scoff. “And I haven’t even gotten my birthday present yet. Get your ass here. Now.”

You let out a groan. “Seriously? Right now? But I’m tired. I wanna go to-”

“Now.” The call cuts and the screen goes black. You sigh. You get out of bed and ruffle through your wardrobe for your trench coat, feeling like one of those noir film actresses. You don’t bother putting your panties back on as you put the coat on and leave your room in a pair of sneakers. Park Jimin is going to be hard to appease tonight but judging from the slight slur in his voice, he won’t be too hard to manage.

Park Jimin has always been the jealous type, it’s why you’ve never actually been with anyone else. It’s too much trouble because Jimin has a sadistic streak. So in order to remain in his good graces, you know what you have to do tonight or else Jimin will sulk throughout the year and that will be bad for you. It wouldn’t take much, you think. Jimin has a soft spot for you and you both know it but his possessiveness can be problematic. It gets in the way of everything despite the non-agreement agreement you two have.

As you cross the green courtyard towards Park Jimin’s building (yes, most of the richer ones have their own private quarters), you don’t realise the shadows following you.

“Keep me posted,” Namjoon’s voice comes through Yoongi’s phone. “I need to know what I’m dealing with.”

When the call ends, Hoseok rolls his eyes. “Out of all the people, why her? There’s nothing interesting about her. Not even from any known family. She’s even here on scholarship.” He spat the word as if it disgusts him.

Yoongi shrugs. “Don’t know, don’t care. C’mon.”

***

In the morning, after untangling yourself from Jimin, you leave his place in one of his T-shirts before the sun fully rises.

You manage to creep back into bed without waking Anya and without being seen, balling the borrowed T-shirt and throwing it into the back of your closet, to be forgotten. When Anya wakes up, the first thing she sees is your made up bed and you ready to leave out the door.

Unlike everyone here, you have a part-time job to get to. Your phone rings in your pocket as you walk to the bus stop and you answer it. “What is it now, Jimin?”

“I don’t like your tone,” he says, his voice heavy from just waking up. “And it’s oppa to you. Where are you?”

“I’m sorry, Minie, but I’m going to work,” you answer impatiently. “And I have to go. I’m almost arriving.”

“Wait,” he calls out.

You sigh. “What?”

He’s quiet for a long while that you pull the phone away to check if the line is still connected. It is so you put it back to your ear. “Jimin?” You shake your head, correcting yourself. “Oppa?”

“Nothing,” he answers, his voice sounding more awake now. “Have a good day at work.” The call ends and you pocket your phone, jogging over to the bus that just pulled up.

Somewhere in the distance behind you, in a sleek black car parked on the side of the street, Hoseok sits in the passenger seat. He points in your direction. “Who the hell takes buses these days?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer him but starts the engine and pulls out from the illegal parking spot, sticking close to the bus you just got on. He’s a little grouchy right now for having to wake up this early. He’s also not sure why Namjoon wants them to tail you, it’s not like you’re somebody worth tailing. Got into their university on a scholarship and has a part time job. Hoseok is right. Who the hell rides the public bus when they go to Ivy University?

But when Namjoon wants something, Namjoon must get it. Yoongi sighs, anticipating a long day.

---

You step into the office just as the clock strikes 9.01AM and immediately, your boss is already standing in the doorway of his office, looking at you unimpressed. “You’re late.”

You glance at the clock on the wall but don’t say what you wanted to say. You offer him an apologetic smile, instead. “Sorry, sir.”

He doesn’t respond, disappearing back into his office. You roll your eyes and make your way to your desk. The boss’ assistant peeks his head out and raises his eyebrows at you. You raise a hand to shush him. “Not a word, Seokjin.”

He smiles, his cheeks puffing up like two round breads. “Time is money is power,” he says, quipping our boss’ usual quote before going back to his place.

You work only until two o’clock and ten minutes before your shift ends, the bell above the front door rings. “Welcome to-” you stop short when you realise it’s Kim Namjoon, standing there with his shades on and a black fitting tee with jeans that seem to hug the form of his long legs. “What are you doing here?”

At the sound of your panicked voice, Seokjin comes out to check. Upon seeing Namjoon, his face lights up into a smile. “Namjoon-ah, long time no see.”

They exchange a quick hug and a few words before Namjoon turns to look at you. You wonder how they know each other but then again, Seokjin is the university’s alumni. Everybody knows Namjoon. He points at you, “Taking this one out to lunch. Thought I picked her up from work.”

Seokjin looks at you, worry flitting through his eyes. “Really? Since when are you two a thing?”

“We’re not,” you retort, packing your things. “And I’ve got class after this.”

“Your class starts at 3.30PM,” Namjoon says easily. “You have time.”

You stare at him. “You check my schedule?”

He shrugs.

“Do you know how creepy that is?” you ask, mildly annoyed as you continue to stuff things into your bag.

Your boss comes out, forehead furrowing, eyes aiming at you. “What’s all the ruckus out here?” He looks around and sees Namjoon and immediately his expression changes to delight, the crease between his eyebrows immediately erased like magic. “Namjoon, to what do I owe the pleasure of having you here in my little office?”

Namjoon is all smiles, shaking your boss’ hand confidently. “I’m just here to take my girl out, sir.”

Your boss turns to look at you, an incredulous look on his face. “Her?”

You let out a sigh. “I’m not his girl and,” you swing your bag over your shoulder. “I’m done for the day. Goodbye, Mr Oh. See ya, Seokjin.”

You power-walked down the street heading for the bus stop, aware of the man following you in just a slight quick pace of his strides. He catches up next to you, not a hair out of place, lightly touching your arm. “I got my car with me and-”

You swivel around on your heels to jab him in his chest, hurting your finger a little at how hard it actually is. “I’m not going anywhere with you.”

“Why not?”

“I don’t have to explain anything to you.” You continue towards the bus stop and he remains on your heels.

“Is it Jimin? Are you scared if he finds out?” He stands in front of you as you take a seat on the bench, checking your watch impatiently when you already know it’s not another twenty minutes for the next bus to arrive.

“I don’t know why you’re bringing him up,” you say, shrugging. “It has nothing to do with him and just about my principles.”

Namjoon laughs, running his fingers through his hair. Fuck, he didn’t have to look so good. “What principles? Not accepting when someone is just being nice to you?”

You look at him then, eyebrows furrowing. “No. Just not to accept anything from you.”

His face falls, confused. “Me?”

“Specifically.”

“Can you at least share why?” He takes off his sunglasses, waving them around in his hand.

You give him an incredulous look. “Really? You can’t guess?”

He shrugs his shoulders nonchalantly. “I mean, it couldn’t be those rumours, right?”

You let out an exasperated noise but ignore him. Namjoon takes a seat next to you, scooting so close that your legs are almost touching. “I didn’t take you for someone who believes in rumours.”

“What did you take me for then?” you give him a pointed look, feigning interest.

He regards you, tilting his head to the side, one leg of the sunglasses resting on the corner of his lips. “I don’t know. I’m still figuring that out.”

You don’t have a comeback for that, staring at him for a few seconds longer. For the first time, you’re not sure what to make of him. His eyes have a sort of gleam to them that you can’t tell if it’s innocence or just plain mischief. For a moment, you wonder if the labels stuck to his back are even justified, if they even had any truth to them because the man sitting next to you, a soft smile playing on his lips, doesn’t scream red flags to you. Or maybe it’s just wishful thinking.

Namjoon sees it too, the way your eyes soften as you look at him, the way your forehead creases just slightly as you contemplate on what to do with him. For a split second, your guard is down and he sees that, clear as day reflecting on your face. He reaches out, brushing your cheek with the pad of his thumb. You flinch but don’t move away.

He’s about to say something when a convertible slides into the bus parking and stops right in front of you. You know it’s Jimin before you even look.

“Kitten,” he calls out. “Get in.”

Before Namjoon can stop you, you pull away from his touch, pick up your things and get into Jimin’s car. You don’t spare another backward glance but Jimin does. He stares long and hard at Namjoon from behind the wheel, the man’s tall reflection against his own sunglasses perched on the bridge of his nose. He sneers and Namjoon stands up, putting his shades back on, unfazed.

“I’ll see you around,” Namjoon says, looking in your direction. “Kitten.”

Jimin’s car peels out of the bus stop, merging with traffic and speeding off. He drives with one hand on the wheel and the other resting on the gearhead in the middle console. He doesn’t speak, jaws ticking silently. You know he’s waiting for you to speak first but you don’t know what to say. He came to the office by himself? He stalked me? He wants what’s yours? Neither of those sounds good enough, if not enraging.

“So?”

You sneak a glance at Jimin from the corner of your eyes. “Hm?”

“What did he want?” he snarls, impatient to deal with your nonchalance.

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t know. He wanted to take me out to lunch but I told him-”

“That little bitch,” Jimin curses through gritted teeth. “I give him an inch and now he thinks he can take a mile.”

In an attempt to calm him down, you slide your hand to rest on his thigh, subtly rubbing the inside of his leg over the tight black jeans he’s wearing as you press up against his side. It’s not surprising when he leans into you, seemingly calming. You place your lips against his shoulder. “I don’t want to talk about him. Please, Jimin?”

He reciprocates by moving the hand he has on the gearhead to your thigh, giving it a squeeze a little further up than just a casual touch, running his pinky up and down your crotch. The car slows down at a red light and, out of the blue, Jimin asks, “Do you like him?” His voice is soft and he’s staring ahead, almost as if he’s scared of the answer. His Adam's apple bobs but he looks at everything except you. His pinky ceased movements as his hand rests somewhere a little more appropriate, just above your knee.

You don’t answer him immediately, contemplating. You know nothing of the man named Kim Namjoon other than the words flying around about him. But the magnetic force that pulls you to him is quite compelling though you’re not sure if you want to admit that. He’s not the kind of guy you want to be involved in. Too much spotlight, too much drama dating someone everyone wants.

“I don’t know,” you say carefully. “I don’t know if I like him.”

Jimin senses there’s more to that answer. He glances at you briefly before the light turns green again. “But?”

“But I’m intrigued,” you confess. “There’s something about him.”

Jimin rolls his eyes. “There’s always something about him,” he mutters. After a few minutes, he continues, “So? Are you going to go with him next time he asks?”

You lean back to look at Jimin’s side profile; the chiselled jawline, the cute little nose, the multiple studded ears. Your eyes follow down his neck, your lips recognise the shape of it, how it then curves down to his shoulders, small but strong, sexy, captivating. Only two other people know that you’ve been each other’s firsts; first kiss, first times, during an experimental phase that lasted long into their adulthood out of a mutually hormone-driven consensus. You love him, you do, but never like a lover and you know Jimin feels the same way.

Whatever it is, you want to put Jimin first. He’s done a lot for you, someone who isn’t even acknowledged by the rest of the family. He has fought in your corner and you know if you call, he’d come running. You sidle up to him once again, resting your head against his shoulder, hugging his arm close to you. You link your fingers through his and grips him tight. “Would that be okay with you?” you ask hesitantly.

You feel him sigh but there’s no animosity this time, no anger. Just acceptance. He doesn’t answer, though, not wanting to give you that satisfaction. He squeezes your hand and you take that as him giving you his blessing. “But,” he says, a hint of warning in his tone, “if he does anything I don’t like, I’m ending him.”

You giggle quietly, pressing another kiss to his shoulder at the same time that he leans over to place a lingering kiss on the top of your head.

---

Namjoon disrobes himself with one hand, the other busy scrolling through the hundreds of unread text messages in his inbox, not one he’s interested to read.

His forehead creases the further down he goes, walking towards the bathroom where the tub is already filled with warm water, waiting for him. He almost tripped on the bathtub’s leg if he hadn’t looked up in time, saving himself from plunging in head first. Carefully, he steps into the water and the stress of the day immediately melts away. He sits in the tub, eyes still glued to his phone screen.

No, you haven’t texted him at all. Not once, ever. Namjoon has the phone numbers of almost everyone on campus, given to him freely or from them searching him out first. But not yours. How is that even possible?

There’s a knock on the door and Hoseok’s head appears through the small gap. Namjoon doesn’t even look up, searching through social media to find traces of you. “Yo, Joon-ah,” Hoseok calls. “You’ve got a visitor.”

Namjoon waves him away. “Not now. I don’t want to see anyone today.”

Hoseok snickers quietly. “Okay, whatever then.”

Hoseok disappears back out the door, leaving the bathroom door just as he found it, ajar. Namjoon comes across your Instagram account but it’s locked with only twenty-two followers. He founds your Twitter account, too, in the same circumstance; private with less than thirty followers. Considering that everyone who goes to this university has connections to the upper class society, having less than ten thousand followers on social media is…lame.

He knows that you got in because of Park Jimin, connected by marriage and not by blood. He knows that when you were three, your mother remarried into the Park family, long owners of one of the biggest conglomerates in the country and, by default, the Kim family’s biggest rival. Other than that, there’s nothing on you. Or so everybody thinks, but Namjoon has a feeling something is going on between you and your step cousin, what, he doesn’t know. Jimin is too protective over you, too possessive.

Namjoon clicks his phone shut and places it on the bathroom floor next to the tub. He slides down lower and leans his head back, closing his eyes. He tries to relax but his brain can’t help but think about you, the enigma plaguing him. There’s no one on campus that he doesn’t know about; every little dirty secret, every little incriminating details, every little sore points, he has them compiled in alphabetical files in the office room downstairs, ammos he uses every once in a while, little business deals to ensure everything runs smoothly the way Kim Namjoon wants it. Everyone has something to lose or to gain, it’s a matter of knowing who’s got dirt on who and what he gets in return.

What he doesn’t know is a threat to himself, especially when something draws him to you. He can’t get involved without knowing what he’s about to gain or lose; it’s too risky. His father taught him well enough about it. Keep things strictly business, your brain must always lead the way, not your heart, every relationship is a transaction. And that’s what’s troubling him. His brain is telling him to just move along, there’s nothing you can offer him, you’re technically a nobody with no actual connection. But his heart. His heart just won’t listen this time.

Namjoon is so lost in his thoughts, his forehead wrinkling, that he doesn’t even notice the shadow that falls over him. He doesn’t even notice it when you lather one pump of soap into one hand and slowly, slowly, quietly dip into the water. His eyes finally shoot open in complete shock when he feels your hand wrapping around his flaccid cock. He gasps aloud, jerking forward and splashing water against the walls and floors.

“Shh,” you say, placing your other finger against your lips, blinking against droplets of water on your lashes. “Don’t want the others to know that I sneaked in after Hoseok told me to leave.”

Namjoon, bless his big beautiful brains, is lost for words. He splutters, mouth opening and closing but nothing comes out, staring at you as if he’s seeing a ghost. His heart is still hammering in his chest and is only subconsciously aware that you are softly tugging his penis under the water, massaging it and rolling the pad of your thumb against the tip.

“What are you doing?” he asks in a hushed voice.

You grin up at him. “Returning the favour.”

He tries to push the question but your soapy hand is starting to have its effect on him, assisting in your underwater heavy petting. He licks his lips, trying to collect his composure. You feel him throb in your hand, warm and growing harder. Bigger, so big that your palm only covers not even half of his shaft. You had underestimated him, you realised nervously.

Namjoon breathes shakily, letting your hand wander down to his balls without saying a word or even moving a muscle. In this situation, both his brain and his heart are taking the backseat. You gesture, jutting your chin. “Why don’t you sit back and relax, little prince?” you say, teasing.

He sits back but his face is disgruntled. “I’m not a little prince,” he mumbles before his words are cut off by a muffled groan as you refocus back to his cock.

You smile, taunting. “Not little,” you say pointedly, “but definitely still a prince. What would daddy say if he finds out you let your guard down like this?” You pick up your pace, pumping on his cock in between your thumb, forefinger and middle finger, feeling the ridges of his hardness against your touch, curious of how it would feel to have him stretch you out taut. Jimin is so much smaller but made up in girth, filling you up so full. But this sheer monstrosity? You can't even imagine it but damn if you don’t try.

“Tell me, Namjoon.” You draw circles with your thumb around his cockhead and watch him press his lips together to avoid making any sounds. “How do the other girls touch you? I want to know.”

He doesn’t answer, breathing heavily, chest heaving, knuckles turning white from gripping the edges of the tub. His rock hard cock putty in your hands, jerking and leaking precum that you gather to rub on the underside of the tip. Seeing that he is ignoring your question you let go and he quickly looks up at you in surprise and confusion.

“Answer me and I’ll keep going,” you promise sweetly, resting your head against your other hand on the lip of the tub.

Namjoon growls. “There’s nothing special about the other girls.”

“You mean, they’ve never given you a handjob before?” you widen your eyes, faking surprise.

“They have,” Namjoon snaps but then he shakes his head. “Just…” he pauses, glaring at you.

“Oh,” you pout. “You don’t like handjobs? I should stop then.” You move away from the tub but Namjoon is desperate now. “No, wait!”

You kneel back down on the floor, looking at him expectantly. “Yes?”

“I didn’t say you could stop,” he says through a grimace. He’s struggling to remain in control. You laugh softly, amused, and once again he looks confused.

“You’re not in charge right now, Joonie,” you explain. “I am.”

Anger flashes in his eyes but he doesn’t react. In the water, his cock looks just as angry as he is, veins bulging and twitching in the water, starving to be touched again. He wants your hand back on him, needs it.

You see him unravelling but your patience is high right now. You know you have him where you want him, looking up at you with defeated eyes. Angry but defeated. He doesn’t move, doesn’t even tell you to leave. You take your chance, daring to push him further, curious to see the real Kim Namjoon. You lean close to his face and his eyes flutter but just as he thought that you might kiss him, you pull back with a smile. “You want me to touch you?”

He swallows hard before he gives a small, strained nod. You smirk. “Beg for it.”

His brooding eyes lock on yours, his jaws grinding together. His hands are in fists and you expect for him to turn you away, to gather up what’s left of his bruised ego and stand up, maybe, so he can really flex how easily he can turn this situation around. You almost hope he would, the masochist in you watching gleefully at how this could all turn out. Kim Namjoon doesn’t beg. He wouldn’t.

But instead, Namjoon lowers his head and whispers out, “Please.”

This time your surprise isn’t faked, kneeling there with your mouth slightly open. Kim Namjoon is begging you to touch him. The Kim Namjoon. The proud man on campus that exudes so much alpha pheromones in any room he walks into; the man that every female and male on campus thirsts for, desperate to bed or be bedded by; the Kim Namjoon that runs the campus like it’s his little playground, a little prince flexing his power and influence over his subjects. That Kim Namjoon is pleading with you, head hung low, naked in the bathtub, cock sticking straight out in between his legs, quivering for more of what was given to it just seconds ago.

“Please what?” you ask, confidence surging. Your hand is already back in the water, tracing your fingers against the inside of his thigh close enough to brush against his cock but not quite there.

“Please,” Namjoon mumbles, his hair falling over his face that you wish you could see his expression right now. What does he look like when he’s begging? You tip his chin up with your finger, making him look at you. Again, you’re taken by surprise as his eyes are a little glassy, lips a little wobbly.

Your heart jumps out at him but this power play is giving you a feeling you’ve never had before. Jimin had only loved to dominate and you loved being taken care of, but this is new. This is something you’ve never experienced before and seeing the six-foot alpha male in front of you submit to you is exciting, intoxicating.

The defiance in his eyes only adds fuels to your newly-born fire. “Please,” he says again, voice cracking at the end, “touch me. Please touch me more.”

“But I am touching you,” you answer in mock ignorance, fingers dancing through his pubic hair now, tugging on it. “See. I’m touching you.”

“Please,” Namjoon whines, biting on his lower lip. He uses one hand to grab yours under the water and places it on his member. “Touch me here.”

Your lips curl upwards, satisfied. Without another word, you restart your movements, making a circle with three fingers and using them to pump his shaft, squeezing it in all the right spots, feeling him harden beneath your touch. You continue to jerk him off, watching him close his eyes and tilt his head up, lips parted. You quicken your pace, the water sloshing around noisily. You add more soap into your hand, smoothening the glide enough for him to breathe in quick shallow breaths, soft little moans in the back of his throat.

The water is somewhat restricting and you want more. “Move,” you order, standing up and stepping into the tub in between his legs. He looks a little perplexed but is quick to oblige, sitting up on one end of the tub, butt situated just inches on the cool surface, using his hands to support the rest of his weight. Not caring that your denim shorts are now wet, you kneel in front of him, coming face to face with his crotch, his darkened cock bouncing in between your eyes. You give him a few more pumps with your hands before you hold it up, look him in the eye and snake your tongue out to lick the tip.

Namjoon hisses but he doesn’t look away. You lick the underside of his cockhead, tasting the precum leaking profusely. You pop the head into your mouth, using your tongue to roll around it, hollowing your cheeks to suck. Namjoon lets out a full moan, bottom lip in between his teeth. “Fuck,” he curses. “Just like that, please.”

Alas, being dominant isn’t exactly your thing because once lust envelopes you, your switch flips and you’re hungrily sucking on his cock, taking him into your mouth as much and as far back as you can go without gagging, using your hand to pump the base to make up for what you cannot fit. He’s huge. While you can wrap your pretty little mouth over Jimin’s length comfortably, you’re struggling to breathe around Namjoon’s.

Saliva drips messily down your chin but you pay it no mind, wanting nothing but to please him. You bob your head down his length, careful to use your tongue for the underside, to retract your teeth except when you’re nibbling his tip, to use your spit as much as you can for lube. What dribbles down your mouth, you collect with your hand, pumping the base of his cock with it in time to your head-bobbing. Jimin taught you well because Namjoon is softly begging again.

“Oh, please, oh, please.” He has a loose touch of the back of your head, more guiding than pushing. “Please, harder. Your mouth. Please.”

You understand what he wants, clamping down a little more firmly, doing your best to not let your teeth graze him. You press your tongue up, feeling the bulky veins as you move up and down his shaft. Feeling a little tired, you focus on the tip, sucking lightly with every upward move of your head.

You’re not sure what happened or why it happened but something snaps in Namjoon. He holds your head in between his hands firmly in place and instead of you blowing him, he fucks your mouth. You let him, adjusting yourself to his sloppy movements. He’s careful enough not to shove his whole length in, watching your reaction with hooded eyes, hip bucking wildly.

“Yes, yes,” he mutters, watching his cock slide in and out in between your lips. “Your mouth feels so warm, so good.” His mind wonders about watching the same scene unfold in between your legs. How would you feel wrapped around him, spread open for him?

Before long, he pulls out, steps out of the tub and lifts you up bridal style. You squeak at the sudden movement, clinging onto him as he transfers you over to the sink countertop. He buries your head into your neck, breathing hard, arms around your waist. “Please, I want to-” he hesitates, gulping in more breaths. “Please,” he finishes silently, pressing wet kisses on your neck, sucking on the skin.

“You want to what?” you coax, pushing against his shoulders so he would look up at you. He does, looking at you with wide eyes, pupils blown out, blond hair sticking to his forehead. You push his hair back and kiss his forehead. “Tell me. What do you want, my little prince?”

He seems to contemplate it before muttering, “Sex,” like some kind of virgin school boy that’s only just learning the word. That’s when you know that this is a whole different side of him that you’ve never seen before, confident that no one has ever seen before. It contradicts his whole being that you could never have imagined it if you’re not actually seeing it now. He towers over you as you sit on the edge of the countertop, looking down at you like a kid who is asking for extra dessert. Is this what he hides behind the mask of alpha Kim Namjoon? A little needy boy in the bedroom who can’t even vocalise what he wants?

You can’t help the smile on your lips but all Namjoon is seeing is the way you leer at him, your mouth turning upwards on one side. It makes him feel small, powerless, at your mercy. It makes his cock throbs painfully. He lets out a small whine, burying his face back into your neck, nibbling on your skin that smells like your wash soap, nothing too fancy nor too strong.

“You want to fuck me?” you inquire, tilting your neck to give him access to more skin. “Is that it? You want to know what my pussy feels like around your fat cock?”

He nods against you but you’re not having it. Without thinking, you grab a fistful of his hair and pull, roughly enough to jerk him backward. He lets out a surprise, “Ah,” but relaxes, his skin tingling from where the pressure emits from his scalp down to his leaking tip, so much so that it drips down to the tile floor.

“Answer me in words, Namjoon,” you hiss, glaring at him. Something in him withers even more, seeing the reflection in the mirror of how he, at six foot tall with swollen biceps and chest and rock hard abs, is being manhandled by this girl who is not even over five foot, the girl who, just a few days ago, he doesn’t even know existed. What a plot twist.

“Yes,” he breathes out, the excitement growing.

“Yes what?”

His brain scrambles to remember what were the words you said but he can’t. His attention had been somewhere else. From his view point, he can see straight down your loose T-shirt and realises that you’re not wearing a bra. You’re not generous in the chest area but the swell of your breasts is prominent from this vantage point and he gulps. Your nipples are already perky.

You pull on his hair again as you bring his face closer to yours so that he has to bend forward slightly. “I ask you a question,” you reiterate, growing impatient.

Namjoon’s lips quiver. He honestly can’t remember what he was supposed to repeat. Words. You wanted words. “Please,” he says pathetically blubbering, “Please, want your pussy. Want to…want my cock in you…in your pussy. Please, my cock in your pussy.” At the same time, his member between his legs does a little jerk upward.

You let go of his hair, bracing yourself against the edge of the counter. “Take my shorts off,” you command and he hurries to unbutton the denim with careless fingers. He tugs it off of you and you lift your ass to assist. Once it passes your knees, he lets it drop to the floor. He looks at your soaked panties from when you joined him in the tub, a little disappointed that he can’t tell between the tub water and the leak from your cunt, the cunt that he had his face buried in just last night.

His fingers linger on the band of the panties, eyes stuck on the spot between your legs. You giggle softly to yourself, cupping his cheek and pulling him to look at you. “Kiss me,” you say, tilting your head up.

He doesn’t need to be told twice, crashing his lips against yours that your teeth clashed together. You taste blood and wonder which one of you is bleeding, not really caring. The kiss is sloppy, wet, open-mouthed. Tongue moves against tongue aimlessly and he leans in, pressing his hot cock against your pulsating clothed pussy. Moans tumble out of both your mouths into each other, dribbling saliva down chins. He rubs his cock against you some more and you wish he had removed the panties, too.

“Panties,” you moan out, hoping he understood.

He does but his brain is still not working properly so instead of pulling it off of you, he rips it off with one powerful wrench of his wrist, leaving you to gasp against the burn on your skin from where the material dug into you before it broke apart. He doesn’t miss a second, pressing up against you once more, running the length of his hardness against your sopping crotch, gliding it deliciously up and down your clit.

You let out a moan into the kiss, pulling him closer by the waist, wrapping your legs around him. “You’re so wet,” Namjoon whines, “so, so wet. I’m so hard. Please. Want…”

He breaks away from the kiss to nibble down your neck, his hands travelling up your shirt to rest on your sides, squeezing softly. You’re small in his grasp, his fingers easily circling you on both sides that his thumbs are almost touching together with every little squeeze. So tiny, so small, so fragile.

“Hands on the mirror,” you tell him, prying his hands off of you and guiding it to the mirror behind you. He leans heavily on it, spit lining the corners of his lips, tongue lolling, searching for something, anything to suck on. You suck on his tongue hungrily, slobbering over each other, lips missing lips, messy kisses that leaves saliva trailing down his front. “No touching,” you breathe out. “Do you hear me?”

Namjoon nods his head weakly, the pain in his cock is getting unbearable. He needs release so bad that he's starting to sound needy even in his own ears. “Yes, yes, please. No touch. Won’t touch. Please…fuck me.”

“Good boy,” you purr. “Such a good little prince. Is this how you obey your daddy? When he tells you to do things? Little Namjoonie can’t help but be a good little boy, huh?”

Something stirs in the pit of Namjoon’s stomach at your words. At the back of his mind, a voice screams No! That’s not how I am, you little bitch! And don’t call me that! I don’t like it! But his mouth can only let out little soft noises, his cock wet from his own precum, knees weak, brain all fuddled from any thoughts, only want. Want, want, want. Please. He only nods, a little stronger, this time.

“Are you being a good little Namjoonie for me?” you prod some more, this time giving him a little incentive by touching his reddening cock. You rub the little hole, silently gauging if he can even fit inside you. It’s going to be painful for sure.

“Yes,” Namjoon moans cutely. “Yes, I am.”

“You want this,” you say, tugging on his member, “inside me?” You guide his cock to your entrance, rubbing on your own hole to gather the slick. “I wonder if your cock will even fit me, Joonie.”

He pushes slightly and you lean back. “Uh uh,” you warn. “I don’t think it’ll fit, baby boy. I think it’s too big. I think your fat cock is going to destroy me, baby.”

Namjoon whines, exasperated. His hands are fists against the mirror. Any more pressure and it’ll definitely crack. He can see it, can picture it, how he’s going to stretch you out so wide and so good. He can imagine just how warm you would be, how wet, your pussy tight around his cock. So tight he might come just from the first thrust. Fuck.

“Nooo~,” he mewls out. “Want. Please…Let me. Please.”

You relent, guiding his tip to your entrance and this time you don’t stop him as he pushes in, slowly, carefully. The sting sears through you and you grit your teeth against it, holding your pussy open with two fingers, watching as he slides in painfully slowly. It burns so much your eyes water. “Fuck, Namjoon,” you exhale through shallow breaths. “Fuck, it hurts. It’s so big.”

Namjoon looks down and sees that the first quarter is in. It’s tighter than he thought it would be. So tight he can’t move. He leans his forehead on your shoulder. “Relax, baby,” he soothes. “Just relax. Breathe.”

The switch has flipped. The moment he penetrates you, you let go of control, trying to relax your lower half to ease the pain. You circle your arms around his neck for support and he pushes in a bit more. You can feel the stretch, can feel how hard he is, how much he fills you up, and yet he still has more to give. You can feel the slide in, the pain stinging before it subsides as you adjust to his size. You have only known Jimin, feeling only slightly guilty and sad that his shape will be erased for Namjoon’s.

When Namjoon is finally all the way in, you both remain unmoving for a couple of minutes. He lets you get used to him while he struggles not to come just yet, breathing in deep breaths and trying to distract himself. He looks up to check on you, finding your face all scrunched up in pain. You slowly open your eyes and tears pool in them. He kisses your cheek, whispering in your ear, “Relax, baby. Breathe, just breathe. That’s it. That’s a good girl.”

Namjoon repositions himself in between your legs, slowly pulling out again. You let out a whimper, nails digging into his shoulders, feeling the weight of him move inside. He doesn’t pull out the whole way but stops at the tip before he plunges back in. You cry out in both pain and pleasure. “Ahh, Namjoon…Namjoon. It feels good. Feels good, Joonie.”

“Doesn’t hurt anymore?” he asks softly, wanting reassurance. You shake your head, bottom lip white in between your teeth. “You sure?” You nod your head vigorously.

He pulls forward a little bit so you are sitting on the edge of the counter, your butt lifted up a little to give him more access. This way, his thrusts are at an angle that gives you the most pleasure, hitting that right spot, moaning his name drunkenly, eyes barely open. You’re so wet, you can feel it. Can hear it, the squelching sound loud in your ears.

“Oh, baby, can you hear that?” he says from over you, hips rolling against you expertly. “So wet for me. You’re so wet for my cock.”

You nod, humming. “Yes. I can hear it. Your cock feels so good, Joonie. Please. More. Faster, please. Your cock is stretching me out so well. I want more.”

Namjoon sucks on your earlobe, nibbling on the shell of your ear. “Pull your legs up. Let me see how you stretch out for me.”

You comply, pulling your legs towards you by the knees, giving him a clear view of where you two are connected. His cock glistens with your wetness and he hastens his strokes. In, out, in, out, in, out, building up speed as he goes, watching your hole parts with every push in and watching his cock reemerge as he pulls out. “See, baby,” he murmurs. “Fits just right in your little pussy.”

“Haa, Namjoon. Oh, god,” you mewl out, tears slipping out from the corner of your eyes. “Oh, god, oh, god, oh, god. Fuck, Joonie. You’re fucking me so good. So good. Aahh, Namjoon, Namjoon.”

The more you repeat his name, the more aware you are of who has his dick buried balls-deep in you. It’s a little bizarre, a little exciting. The man who runs around campus with a gaggle of onlookers, the man who Jimin isn’t very keen of, the man who you told yourself to stay away from because Jimin doesn’t like him (plus the whole drama between the families) is now standing in between your legs, fucking yo so deep your eyes roll back in their sockets. And just mere moments ago, he had begged to be touched. By you.

Fuck, just a few minutes ago he had sobbed for you to pay attention to his leaking cock, veins popping, chest heaving and now look how the table has turned. Not that you mind it. But you love the fact that Namjoon has given you something he has never given anyone else and with that in mind, your eyes open and push him off, wanting to switch positions.

You hop off the sink countertop and twirl around, sticking your ass out to signal to him how you want him to do you next. You lean against the mirror, looking back over your shoulder at him, waiting. Namjoon realigns himself but because you’re too short, the angle isn’t quite right. He can’t quite sink in correctly. He parts your ass cheeks, fumbling with his fingers to find your cunt hole and you sigh with his touch. He digs two fingers in and you moan, sticking your lower half out more.

You crave his touch, lifting one knee up to rest on the counter, giving him more ease to shove his fingers deeper. He scoots down and buries his face in your dripping pussy, tongue out so he can taste you. You wail, face pressed against the mirror, breath fogging it up. You forget about the two other men in the house, not caring if they can hear you. “Yesss! Yesss! Fuck.”

Namjoon stops and stands back up, chin wet, massaging his cock before plunging it back into you, so deep you arch onto your tiptoes, hissing as you do, unable to make any other sound as it feels like your breath is knocked out of you. He continues to pound into you, the sound of skin slapping skin resounding with every thrust. By this point, the two other men in the house, who have been pretending they couldn’t hear your voice, are visible trying to hide the tent between their legs.

Supporting your waist with his big hands, he whispers continued praises from behind you, his voice a little shaky from his vigorous thrusting. “Look at you, taking my cock so well. Being so wet for me.” He moans, feeling you tighten around him. “You like that, kitten?”

In between your little gasps, you manage to tell him, “Don’t call me that.”

“Call you what? Kitten?” He rams into you hard enough for you to cry out again, pussy clenching and unclenching, dribbling more slick than he thought possible. “You don’t like me calling you kitten? Is it because Jimin calls you that?”

His voice sounds a little mean as he grows a little annoyed, images of you under the other man flashing across his mind. He doesn’t like it, doesn’t like to know that another had claimed you first. He shoves into you so deep his tip rests against your cervix. You mewl, trying to move away but having nowhere else to move to. Your toes are cramping up. “Namjoon, please,” you sob. “I’m so close.”

Namjoon continues to deep fuck you in fast hard strokes, grunting each time, his nails digging into the skin of your waist. “You’re getting close thinking of being with Jimin? Huh? If I call you kitten, you’ll think I’m Jimin, fucking your wet pussy until you’re a mess like this, huh?”

You try to shake your head but you can’t do that without losing your balance. Namjoon pauses, cock deep inside your weeping cunt. You feel him throb, feel every curve of him, feel how hot he is.

He seems to read your mind, leaning to speak into your ears. “You feel that in between your folds? Can you feel how hard I am for you right now? Can you feel it, how much I want you to come all over my cock? My cock. Mine. Not Jimin’s.” He pulls out slowly and shoves back inch by inch, making sure you feel every stretch of your walls as he claims you. “From now on, I’m going to make sure your little pussy only remembers my shape. I’m going to make sure that neither Jimin nor anyone else will ever make you feel enough. You hear me?”

You nod desperately. “Just stop talking already,” you whine, pouting your lips at him. “You can’t even make me come yet.”

Namjoon pushes you against the countertop, making sure you bend forward for him to envelope you from behind, his front to your back. He places a hand above your head, a safety cushion to stop you from banging your head against the mirror. Then, he gets to work. You’ve never been fucked this roughly before, never been fucked this good and wild that you’re screaming his name through heavy lips. You’ve never been fucked in a way that makes you want to open up more for him, expose all part of you so he can get at every little inch.

“That’s it, baby girl. Just like that, fuck! Your pussy is clenching so tight, baby,” he moans out. “So tight- I- fuck, feels so good, baby girl. Your pussy- so good, baby. You’re so wet for me. Come for me, baby girl. Come all over my cock.”

Your breathing quickens as you feel the familiar knot tightening in your belly. You let out another cry when Namjoon reaches over to rub on your clit and that’s what you need to send you reeling over the edge. “Yesss, yesss, yesss! Oh my god, yesss. Pleasepleasepleaseplease don’t stop. I’m so close, Joonie. So close. Namjoon, you’re fucking me so good. Fuckfuckfuck, aaahhh!”

Namjoon feels you tighten around him before the spasm rocks through your whole frame. You arch your back, stilling for a moment as your legs shake. Your cunt clenches around his cock hard enough to make him moan out your name, calling out to you over and over again, praising you with words barely incomprehensible. You feel him keel over on you, kissing your back as his cock throbs, spilling his seed, painting the walls of your cunt in hot white stickiness that overflows and drips down your thighs.

Namjoon lets out a few grunts before he slips out and his legs buckle beneath him. He plops to the floor by your feet as you hang on for dear life on the countertop, legs too weak to hold your weight. From his place, Namjoon looks up to see how much of a mess he’s made of you, his semen mixing with your juice still dribbling out.

You lean over your shoulder to look at him, panting, your eyes barely open. You can feel the stickiness in between your legs, feel something hot and wet trailing down your thighs. Fuck, that was intense.

“So pretty,” Namjoon blabbers, eyes in between your legs. “Such a pretty pussy.”

Feeling cheeky, you spread your legs wider. “The little prince should learn to clean up his own mess,” you pant, half teasing, half pouting. “Or didn’t your daddy teach you that?”

Still feeling spent, Namjoon crawls over to kneel in between your legs. He uses his palm to spread your butt cheeks apart, exposing you even further. Something about the way that he’s looking at you in such a private place relits the fire in the pit of your stomach.

“I know how to clean my mess,” Namjoon mutters, kissing the insides of your thighs. “I can clean very well.” His words are muffled as he speaks with his tongue on your sloppy entrance, pressing his whole mouth to it and sliding the flat of his tongue against your pussy. He slurps and licks and nibbles and sucks on your swollen clit. He alternates between that and shoving his tongue as deep as he can in your hole, tasting both himself and you.

“Oh, Joonie,” you mewl softly. “Yes, just keep doing that. Keep sucking on my clit. Yes, just like that. Fuck, my little prince is such a good cleaner. My pussy’s gonna come again.”

Namjoon does as he’s told, easily obeying you, tongue furiously flicking against your little nub. Once again, your orgasm washes over you, building into a crescendo until it crashes down, your pussy pulsating, your legs finally giving out from underneath you. Namjoon catches you in a heap in his lap, holding you close against his chest. He tips your head up to him, covering your mouth with his, making sure you can taste yourself, too.

Once you both calm down, you pull away, disconnecting your lips, a string of saliva still connecting your tongues before it breaks off. You’re still breathing heavily, eyes too heavy to keep open, resting against him. You’re not sure how you got to the bed or how you got cleaned up but when you open your eyes again, you’re sleeping on your side, Namjoon spooning you from behind, fast asleep.

His deep breathing tells you that he won’t be easy to wake but his arm wraps around your middle so tight you can barely move. The room is dark and the curtains drawn. Somewhere in front of you, a phone vibrates on the side table and you fumble to look for it. You pick it up, squinting from the light and realise it’s not yours. It’s Namjoon’s.

It’s a text from Jimin. Curious, you focus to read the words, your vision still blurry with sleep. I know you’ll be bored of her soon but she’s my toy so don’t break it. Or I’ll break you.

You place his phone back down on the table and feel around for yours. You find it tucked under your pillow. You check for messages and there it is, a text from Jimin, too. He won’t entertain you for long. I’ll be waiting, my little kitten.

You smile to yourself before putting the phone away. You’ll placate Jimin in the next few days, giving him little tidbits to soften him up and sweeten him just right, enough to assure him that of course, he’s still your favourite. Neither him nor Namjoon will realise the hook you’ve sinked into the both of them, little puppets that would react with every little jerk of your fingers.

You snuggle closer against Namjoon and he stirs, tucking you in against him even more. Soon, his warmth will lull you back to sleep but for now, you lie there in the darkness, unable to wipe the smirk on your face. The two most powerful pawns in the business world are now both in your pocket, ready to be played when the time comes, a typical chaebols rivalry to be used for your own gain.

After all, it’s just business.

a/n2: lmk what you think of this one in the comment or ask!

Check out my other works → :MASTERLIST:

#bts rm #bts namjoon #namjoon x you #bts smut #bts one shot #kim namjoon #kim namjoon scenarios #namjoon smut #bts knj #bts fanfic #fiction #bts au #jimin x you #park jimin #bts jimin #namjoon x reader

[rosabie]

⠀˓˓🛸⠀⠀우리의 이야기⠀⠀ ✰ ⠀⠀

𝗍𝗁𝖾⠀astronaut⠀⠀🪐

#jin icons #jin #jin bangtan #bts jin #btsjin #bts knj #bts kim seokjin #seokjin icons #seokjin packs #Seokjin astronaut #jin astronaut #jin layouts #jin moodboard #btspacks #kpop layouts #bts icons #bts #jin bts #jin bios

[agusvt]

this album is going to be my comfort place ♡ -- INDIGO out 2 DEC

src.

#namjoon #rm #indigo #kim namjoon #bts #freya:gfx #namjoon indigo #joon #namjoon bts #namjoon gfx #joonie!! #rap monster #bangtan sonyeondan #bts gfx #freyarchive #gfx #knj #knj gfx #bts knj #usersky #usernixie #bts.gfx

[hoebii]

Paper Love

Pairing : Kim Namjoon x Reader Genre : Fluff, crack(?), college!au Rating : PG Warning : Nothing unless you take into account how this story barely makes any sense Beta : @ffion451​ WC : 676 A/N : I was RUSHING to get this done lmaaao so a huge thank you to my amazing beta for making this absolute chaos of a fic comprehensive 🤡

—--------------

You fought back a yawn, resting your head on your palm as you stared at the professor droning on and on about something you didn’t even remember anymore. Why couldn’t you have dropped this class? It’s not as if it would affect the major you wanted to pursue anyway.

Right as you could no longer fight the sweet, sweet embrace of slumber, you felt a sharp jab in your ribs. You jolted up from your slouched position, a yelp escaping your lips - causing the professor to pause his lecture to look at you before resuming when you did nothing but look down at your notebook, pretending to be busy taking down all the notes he was giving.

You glared at your seatmate from the corner of your eyes and you heard him snicker quietly.

That little piece of shit

Kim Namjoon was the reason you didn’t drop out of this subject yet. You wanted to curse out loud at yourself for falling for him but alas, that would give away the fact that you fell for your childhood best friend. You’d rather give up breathing than let that happen.

Lost in your thoughts, you barely noticed the folded up piece of paper that Namjoon had slid over to your side, tapping on it to prompt you to unfold it but never looking away from the professor.

You raised an eyebrow at that, staring down at the piece of paper as if it would unfold itself and scream its content out loud like in Harry Potter.

Namjoon’s tapping on the chit got more incessant the longer you didn’t open it. The quiet tap tap tap gradually increasing in volume.

You clicked your tongue before snatching the chit away from his tapping, unfolding it discreetly so no one else notices. Rather than getting answers, the questions you had only increased ten folds at the content inside.

‘Okay, I know this is super sudden and I feel like this is the best time to do this cause if you say no I’m going to run away the moment this class ends and never show my face. Also I think this is a really cute way, okay? Don’t even try judging me >:(

Ahem, anyway. After all that; I would like to ask… will you marry go out with me? I’ve had feelings for you for ages now and I got tired of waiting for the PeRfEcT time to confess. Please state your answer below (give 5 marks worth of explanation if ‘no’ [im kidding don’t actually, I don’t think I can handle that]) <3

______ ’

You could only manage to blink several times and run your eyes to make sure what you read wasn’t a hallucination. When your eyes started stinging from how hard you were rubbing, did you stop.

Was this really happening? Did Namjoon really find the dorkiest way to confess? DID NAMJOON ACTUALLY CONFESS?

You could barely keep your squeals inside as you grabbed your pen. You made sure that the chit was covered from Namjoon - who was desperately trying to peek at your answer - as you wrote down what you wanted.

You bit your lower lip as you slid the chit back to Namjoon, making sure to fold it the way it was folded when you got it. No longer caring about getting caught staring, you turned your gaze towards him to be able to see his reaction.

Namjoon cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, sliding closer to you and you bit your lip harder as you tried suppressing a wide grin when you felt his hands intertwine with yours.

At the bottom of Namjoon’s bag - where Namjoon had tossed it so he could read it again later -, there was the fateful piece of paper that caused it all, except this time it had the addition of :

‘Yes <3 But you have to confess again after class is over, I want to hear my boo say that he likes me out loud in his smexy voice.’

#thebtswritersclub #castlebangtan #bangtaninn #btsgoldnet #bts rm #bts knj #knj #kim namjoon #bts drabble #bts fluff #college!au #bts au #knj fluff #kim namjoon fluff

[xiaojaan]

Alone on this island

#bts #btsedit #rm #indigo #lonely #namjoon #kim namjoon #dailybts #dailybangtan #bts edit #rm edit #rmedit #bts knj #knj #typoedit #typography #dailytypographyedits #bangtan #bangtan sonyeondan #jays bs #xx #idk what this is but really wanyted to make smth aghjhjdfhjgf

[memorysquirrel]

250 / ∞

#knj #lq knj #knj lq #boyfriend namjoon #namjoon #kim namjoon #bts rm #rm bts #rm #bts kim namjoon #kim namjoon bts #bts knj #knj bts #low quality namjoon

[lady-belz]

I've been staring at this photo all day and it needed to be my next wallpaper for my phone.

#bts rm #kim namjoon #namjoon #bts namjoon #rm indigo #iphone lockscreens #iphone wallpaper #bts knj

[himknj]

#knj #bts rm #bts knj #bts #kim namjoon #namjoon

[namchyoon]

i love him 🤍

#btsgif #btsedit #bts #kim namjoon #namjoon #* #*gifs #*knj #*bts #hybe t&d stories

[rapmoncye]

#bts knj

[aasthamoon]

#btsfocus #poetry #kimnamjoon #dear crush #bts #김남준 #poets on tumblr #poem #btsrm #방탄소년단 #bts knj #bts aesthetic #aestheticeditsz

[hoseoksluna]

BOOKWORMS | knj

pairing: boyfriend!namjoon x reader

genre: smut; fluff

word count: 4.4k

summary: namjoon thinks of you when he reads a smut scene in his book.

warnings: boyfriend namjoon!!!, kimi namijoon reading, mentions of sex (riding), oral sex (f. receiving), nipple play, the importance of consent, teasing, raw sex, breeding kink <3, big dick namu!!, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, joonie's chain dangling in ur face, tummy bulge, creampie, bruising, hickeys, aftercare:(

note: it took blood, sweat and tears (hehe) to write this and i'm so happy it's finally here!! i loved writing about namjoon. he's my whole soul and the entirety of my heart and i have to write abt him again soon. please take your time reading this and enjoy urself! let me know what you think in the comments mwah (or tell me anonymously in my inbox) and as i always say please like and if u want to - reblog, but i won't pressure u baby. love love you!!

side note: if you want to jump straight to the smut, it's right under the asterisks &lt;;3

You revel, you truly do, in seeing your boyfriend in such a serene state of mind. 

Nose buried in a book, Namjoon pays no mind to the surroundings fleeting by him with each flutter of his eyelashes. It goes unnoticed by him, strangely so, how you tidy up the apartment you share. How you feed the two cats that chose you and him to be their human parents. How you fondle their soft ears. How you bend over the furniture to whisper ‘pspsps’ at them when they need a moment away from you just to see their round eyes look up at you stupidly. Namjoon usually observes these moments; this utmost natural behavior of yours. He draws strength from the homeliness of it all with each and every swell of his lungs. Needs it to survive. That is until he gets a hold of that one papery portal and sits comfortably on the couch, one ankle propped over the knee. Then, he ceases to exist in this world. 

You’re happy for him. Over time, you’ve come to find that you have a certain fondness for the way he remains stoic. Because you always know what kind of book he’s reading, a smile blossoms on its own over the line of your lips whenever your eye catches the sculpture-like look on his face. It’s like even if he let himself hold his breath, his consciousness would waver back to the earth and the wretched awareness that he’s here, among mortals and the unfair capitalist system aftermath, would stream in his bloodstream, poisoning his experience. It takes the leisure out of it and makes the bed for misery instead. He doesn’t like it. Hates it, in fact. It’s a necessity that he focuses, as he embarks on the journey, because he does it for you.

Namjoon confides in his feelings and his literature with you almost on a daily basis. On the same couch, with the same cats snoring faintly, their small bodies spilling over the perimeter of your tangled legs. Doesn’t matter if it’s his thigh or the curve of your hip. The animals always find a warm crook to doze in, eavesdropping in, with their curious little ears, on the conversations you’re having. Though you reckon they like the meat of his thigh the best. You do, too. Can’t really blame them. The same serenity that intimately knows the person of Namjoon perceives the person of you when he prompts you to rest your head on his lap while he brushes his book-kissed fingers through the silky waterfall of your hair. Thoroughly explains the intricacies of the plot he’s invested in to you. Describes the characters as if they’re real people he’s become acquainted with. They are real to you as you listen. As you ask additional questions and gaze up at his eyes just to catch that one body of a shooting star fiery hot in the glossiness of his eyes. As you wonder, openly, what will happen to them.

“I’ll tell you when they tell me.” He sunk the promise onto the smooth skin of your forehead with the pucker of his lips.

It’s how you discovered, in all seriousness, that the plaster of his stoicism breaks during these literary moments.

Various colors of emotion tug and twist his features, the bare kind. The unrestrained kind. You know it’s a relief for him when the dam bursts open, soaking you in the beauty of humanness one only finds in literature these days. You can’t help but fall in love with him all over again when his eyebrows furrow. When his orbs nearly burn a hole in the ceiling when he’s trying to think of the right word that will ultimately help him convey the unfolding of the storyline. When he gives up and weaves English into his sentences, relying on his hands to say what his overstimulated brain fails to do. 

He reads to pass knowledge to you. The serenity whispered it into the chambers of your heart, a puff of hot breath in winter’s cold. It soothingly rubbed his shoulders when Namjoon told you there used to be a time when he couldn’t stand the sight of his books lining up the walls of his apartment. Wanted to burn it down and watch as the evidence of his melancholy dies in front of him. Because that’s what most of his book collection consisted of back then. The innermost shadowy faces of his pain. Loneliness. Sadness. Despair from life, from it not being enough for him, from it not saving a spot there for him–not once throughout the course of his life. That’s why he reads different kinds of books now. Ones that do not reflect his survival before you.

The reader has to get wiser, ruffled by life in order to gain more, gain what they need from those once deeply loved pages. It’s what the serenity believes. It’s what you believe and hope for Namjoon. That one day, somehow by the healing of the love you give him, he will look back and pick a souvenir from that moonless country of pain. Put it up somewhere between the spines of his new cluttered collection. Look at it from time to time and sense that it’s telling him something. Something that will fill the stitched-up cracks in his heart with sunlight. Something that he will pass over to you. It’s your love language after all. Namjoon reads because you read. It’s his own personal healing thing. 

You two are just a pair of two bookworms. Unfit for the world outside. Fit for the land you two created. Whose soil you take care of together.

***

Dinner is almost ready by the time you feel his fingertips gripping your hips. You hum, acknowledging his presence. Glad for the homely heat that radiates off of his body and seeps into your bones as you stir the risotto you decided to make on the stove. Coldness had been embracing you all day while he read so you’re overjoyed that he ripped it away from you.

Namjoon places a kiss on your temple and you sigh in relief. You might be too dependent on him, but so is he. He wouldn’t be nuzzling his face in your hair, squeezing your waist, peppering kisses on your tender skin if he wasn’t. It’s the perfect balance. And it’s not that you’re not able to be away from each other. The principle of looking forward to one another is what makes it so sweet, so endurable for the pair of you. Of the coming back and coming into contact at the end of the day. It’s natural. Simple. Human.

“Missed me?” Namjoon husks into your ear. 

You smirk and turn off the stove, turning around to face him. “Terribly.”

His body is clad in a black T-shirt that fits his broad figure well and a pair of baggy sweats of the same color, having discarded the warm crewneck he was wearing earlier somewhere in the universe of his book. A long silver chain twinkles in the middle of his chest in the yellow light. You caress it with your fingers and leave your palm there, on the hardness of his pecs. 

“I finished the book,” he says and you blink up at him. You’re not surprised at all. “Couldn’t put it down.”

Sleepy wrinkles have left their mark on his face from the cozy position he laid in for too long on the couch. His short sunlit hair, grown healthily from his military service, is tousled in all directions and you smooth it down for him. How did God bless you with such a beautiful man is something you’ll wonder about for the rest of your life. 

“What happened to Theo in the end?” you ask, genuinely curious about whether one of the characters you’ve grown attached to is okay after all the shit the author put him through. 

Namjoon was reading a coming-of-age book about a boy named Theo. A panorama of his childhood and adolescent life, you’ve heard all about it. Namjoon cared a lot about this story, cared a lot about the protagonist’s emotions and reactions to the reappearing storms. What made him stick with it, despite the nearly triggering themes, is the fact that Theo never let go of his optimism no matter what. It was incredibly inspiring for Namjoon. Something new. Something that he never thought could be possible. You’re proud of him for daring to read a book so reminiscent of his past.

“You’re not gonna believe it,” Namjoon says, a blush creeping along his cheeks.

You raise one of your eyebrows in question. 

“Theo got laid,” Namjoon reveals, laughing softly. “I’m so happy for him.”

You gasp and burst into giggles. “What?”

“He got some!” 

Your laughter rises in volume. “He lost his virginity and that’s the end?”

“It was a big moment for him. A triumph of some kind. Like he shed his old skin and left that broken life behind. It was amazing.” Namjoon’s eyes glint with tiny shooting stars and you melt. He always finds poetic meanings in the varieties of the character arcs. You think you just fell in love with him all over again. 

“That’s really beautiful,” you admit. It reminds you of something. Of something quite personal. “My first time with you changed my life as well.”

Namjoon’s eyebrows curl in tenderness. Dragon eyes widen and round in fervent emotion. He squeezes his arms around you, enfolding you in a hug. Kisses you warmly. Strokes your hair down your back. Your own eyes pool with little tears with the intimate knowledge that you chose the right person to unfold your raw femininity with. No one, no man other than him could have created such a safe for that to happen.

“Tell you what,” Namjoon says a bit hoarsely. “I saw us in it.”

You hum, encouraging him to continue. Crave for more of his thoughts and confidential findings. Its fire spreading through your body, as each word of his registers in your brain, always makes you feel phenomenally alive. You’re not timid to avow that it’s your addiction. Shame doesn’t know you.

“Elena was on top and he was watching her. In awe of her,” he murmurs, caressing your cheek with the tip of his thumb. “Made me think of our last time. A life changing experience of mine as well.”

You welcome the fire and suspire with sudden desire, eyes lidding. Your heart begins to thump. Namjoon studies your reaction. 

“You remember well, don’t you?” He nudges his nose against yours. “I was in awe of you just the same.” 

It’s impossible not to remember. The memory consumes your mind every waking hour. Gets you needy in ways you haven’t felt before. Namjoon had you sat on his lap among the fluffiness of your innumerable pillows and plushies. Had you do all the work as he focused on the sleekness of your freshly moisturized calves, its coconut aroma interfused with the scent of sex and the euphony of your bounces, ragged breaths and broken moans making his head all fucked up. He was loud himself, more loud than you ever recalled him being. Reading your body at the mercy of the pleasure his hard length was giving you with his bottom lip sucked between his teeth. Not once did he take his eyes off of you, not once did he help you. Just gripped your calves. Your thighs. Your tits all in his face. Only when you came hard, out of your own delightful merit, did his eyes roll back. You left his hips glazed with the evidence of your well-deserved orgasm, a porcelain statue made glossy.

A little later, during your pillow talk, he told you he’d found the idea of you using him while getting yourself off extremely hot. Made him more hard than he’d been in a while. Begged you to be even more selfish next time, adding an indistinct, ‘well, of course, if you want’ to the end of his sentence because he’s Namjoon.

“I do,” you breathe. “Touched myself to it this morning while you were still asleep.”

Namjoon groans. “God.” He kisses the side of your neck. Gets close to your ear. “You wanna do it again, hm? Wanna fuck me?” 

You might burst. His closeness, his heat, his need to ask for your consent turns you unstable. You’re choked up on your words, mind too fuzzy to say something. Turned on. Fucked up.

“You wanna show me how you touched yourself?” Namjoon continues, but you shake your head against the side of his face. 

You had touched yourself in the shower. Couldn’t say no to the impulse. Sharing that part of you for his eyes to see isn’t something you’re quite ready for. To you, it’s still something that’s yours. Something private. A courage you have yet to pluck up. You’re afraid to give him this last part of your femininity.

“Not today,” you whisper, planting a kiss on his neck. Feel him shiver. “I’m sorry. Do you mind?”

Withdrawing from your neck, Namjoon looks you dead in the eye, brows twisted in stern seriousness. “Don’t ever apologize for something like that again. Hear me when I say that.”

You squeeze his shoulder, the corners of your mouth lowering in a pout. Thankfulness grips your heart and suddenly it’s hard to breathe. 

“You know this is why we do this right?” he asks you. “Why I ask you these questions? I need to always know what you’re comfortable with so I don’t make a mistake.”

You nod. “Yes, Namjoon, I know and I’m so thankful.”

“Good. I’ll never push you to do anything you don’t want. Don’t forget that, okay?”

“Okay, I won’t.” 

“That’s my girl. 

You grab him by the back of his neck and engulf him in a hug. Luckiest girl in the world? That you are. The fact that you’re his is still something you can’t wrap your head around.

“We can stop. We don’t even have to do anything tonight—”

“No, Namjoon.” You withdraw. “Look.” Wrapping your hand around his wrist, you slip his hand beneath the confines of your panties. 

His breath shakes when he reaches your soaked folds. He traces your hole with his middle finger and your hips follow his movement, the pleasure so faint but so good that you flutter your eyes closed.

“Fuck, baby.” 

“Yeah, I need you. Need more,” you breathe out. “Can’t leave me like this, can you?”

Namjoon hums. “No, I’ll take care of you. I’ll take care of this pussy.” 

He kisses you. Massages his tongue against yours. You buck your hips into his hand and Namjoon hears your body language. Takes his fingers up and rubs your swollen clit from side to side, quickening his pace as he swallows your moans down his throat. Gets angry at your tight leggings hindering him in giving you more, so he gets on his knees and swiftly pulls them down along with your underwear. 

“Sit on the counter.”

You comply right away. Namjoon takes your feet in his hands and gently removes your slippers, removing your garments fully so they don’t pool around your ankles. He needs your legs spread and he needs them spread wide for what he’s about to do to you. 

Torso long enough to reach you, he remains on his knees. Runs his hands up the back of your thighs to guide you into the position he wants you in. “Lock your arms around the back of your knees. Don’t let go.”

You do as he says, biting your lips in nervousness. Intertwine your hands together. Prepare yourself to die. 

Namjoon studies your dewy pussy, index and middle finger mimicking the letter V as he slides them up and down your folds, squeezing just right to hear you mewling. Your knees being so close together makes her look a lot more pillowy and you hear Namjoon breathe hard, absolutely hypnotized by the beauty of your flesh. 

“Fuck, baby, you’re dripping down my hand.” He withdraws his fingers to show you how your slick trickles down the lines on his palm, changing the course of his life once and for all. 

Your clit throbs, breath matching his. “Please, Namjoon.”

He curses inaudibly. Brings his fingers back down to your folds, squeezes your lips and your clit together. Hisses at the sweet whimpery sounds spilling out of your mouth. Presses tighter so you whine needily for him. Takes you into his mouth when he accomplished what he wanted, tonguing your clit in slow agonizing circles that has you buckling your hips again. Puts his hands on your thighs to keep you down, flicking fast to absolutely abuse the fuck of you. Dragon eyes zeroing on yours, he gives you the hypnosis that your pussy did to him as he sucks on your bundle of nerves. You can’t even scream. Can’t breathe. The pleasure overwhelms you wholly and straps you down. There’s nothing you can do but take it. 

You come hard on his tongue. Namjoon laps it all up gladly. And when he’s finished, he stands up and slips those two digits that ruined you into your hole. Doesn’t move them. Lets you adjust instead.

“One more,” he mutters. “Please.”

You nod.

“Use your words or we’re stopping.”

You groan and close your eyes, your thighs visibly shaking in your iron grip from your orgasm. “Yes, Namjoon, one more. I’ll come for you.”

Namjoon places a wet kiss on your thigh to praise you, and to thank you as well. Begins to move his fingers promptly, but can’t seem to get enough of your skin. Proceeds to make it shiny with his liquid love, sucking it to bruise you. To remember this moment a little more fondly in the morning. 

Creating a trail up to the back of your knee, his digits pick up the speed. The pool of slick you left in his palm sloshes with each rapid thrust of his hand. He looks back at you and sees you lost in the pleasure, eyes lidded and unfocused. “Look at me.” 

You do, weakly.

“Just a little bit more and I’ll fuck you, all right?”

You’re about to nod, but decide against it. “Mhm, yes, Namjoon, fuck.” 

He smiles down at you. Your relief inches closer. “I’m so proud of you for speaking up today. For letting me know.” 

You could cry right now. Because of his fingers making you feel so good. Because of his kindness making you feel so safe. It all closes in on you and you whimper. 

Abruptly, Namjoon unravels your grip on your knees and kisses you, tongue slipping in. You come all over his hand, without meaning to, and he doesn’t stop. On the contrary, Namjoon fucks you harder. Takes all four of his fingers and strums your clit, prolonging your orgasm, swallowing down all of your moans. 

“Come on.”

Namjoon helps you down. If it weren’t for his arms holding you steady, you would’ve collapsed on the floor. Your legs shake, muscles taut and tense. 

“I got you.”

Sat on the floor with his joggers and boxers pulled beneath his crotch, he pulls you down on his lap. A wisp of precum adorns his tip and you wrap your hand around it, collecting it with your thumb. Watch him as you swirl your tongue around the digit before sucking on it, letting go with an obscene pop. Namjoon licks his lips, hands clasping your hips hard enough to bruise you. Twitches in your other hand.

“Don’t fucking do that to me, baby.” 

You laugh almost inaudibly, drunk on him. “Are you gonna come in me?” 

He replaces your hand, holding his length at the base for you to sink down. And you do, gasping softly at his thickness. Your dewiness helps it to be a smooth ride.

“Gonna pump you full. Leave you dripping,” he promises, voice restrained. “Gonna fuck you so good you’ll remember it for the rest of your life.” 

One thing about Namjoon, he’s a man of his word. 

Seated perfectly on him, he waits for you to adjust. Alleviates the tremble of your thighs with his palms, massaging the muscles. Takes off your shirt and flings it across the kitchen. Gropes your tits, rolling your nipples between his fingers. You start to grind on him, throwing your head back. He latches onto your nipple and flicks the nub with his tongue. You lose your mind, leaking down his balls. 

“Ready?” he asks against the fullness of your breast. 

“Yeah, fuck me, Joon.” 

He thrusts into you once to watch you fall apart. Locks your arms behind your back. Grabs your forearms for his use.

“You forgot something.”

He thrusts again, harder this time.

“What?” you breathe out, meekly. 

“What word do you use when you want to ask for something?”

He watches you as you work it out in your brain. Fucks into you three more times, equally hard, to disrupt you. 

“Fuck, sorry. Please, Joon, please.”

He grinds, hips rotating in circles. 

“Uh-huh, that’s right. Now use it.” 

Namjoon envelops your tit in his mouth, swirling his tongue around your areola. Sucking. Keeping up the agonizing pace. Groaning when you clench down on him. 

“Please, hmph, fuck me.”

Your breast bounces back when he lets go, biting his lip. “Knew you could do it,” he coos. “Smart fucking girl.” 

He begins to fuck you properly. Thrusting up and down as he holds you steady, keeping his eyes locked on yours. As he takes control of your squirming, leaving his fingerprints on your forearms and waist. You’re breathless, whimpering, on the verge of sobbing. So turned on and needy for him that the emotions brim in you, threatening to spill over. 

“Aren’t you?” Namjoon continues. “Aren’t you a smart girl?” 

You nod, knowing exactly what he wants to hear. “I’m a smart girl.” 

He spanks your ass to reward you and you arch your back. Tits all in his face. He’s mesmerized watching them bounce and nearly slap against each other, nubs hard and pointed. He licks them up, flicking them with his tongue. You round your shoulders a little in pleasure, his strong grip not letting you fold like your body wants. 

“That’s right. So smart and good for me. So fucking wet. Making me lose my mind.”

Namjoon kisses you. Inhales you. Withdraws only for a mere second before he’s back, tongue in, toying with you the way you like it. You feel your relief calling your name.

“Namjoon, I’m so fucking close. I’m so close. I’m gonna come,” you whine, forehead pressed against his, face twisted in ecstasy.

Namjoon stops out of the blue and slips out of you. You whine loudly, but before you know it, he carries you to the couch and lays you down on it. Takes off all of his clothes until only his silver chain remains, shining bright in the dim light. He spreads your legs, one limb over the backrest, the other around his thigh. Grips his length and tugs at it a few times, the feeling of your wetness making him slippery pulling moan after moan out of him. 

He enters you again and resumes his fast pace, holding your calf in his hand. “Smart girls come on the couch, not on the floor like whores. You got that?” 

You nod almost too eagerly, fucked out beyond measure. “Yes, Joon, please make me come. Please, come here.” 

Namjoon leans towards you, propping his elbows by your head, cradling you. “I’m here. I’m gonna make you come.” 

From this angle, he fucks you more deeply than before, his tip reaching your cervix. You roll your eyes back, but bring them right back to his face when his chain taps you on the chin. You find it so hot that you grind your hips against his, meeting his thrusts, encouraging him to fuck you harder. The chain meets you in erratic staccatos and you scratch your nails down his bare back, the sword-like pendant hurting you in a way that you like. 

Namjoon notices. Slows down his movements. Pinches the chain from the back of his neck. Prompts you to lift your head and slides it over, letting it rest in the middle of your breasts. Then fucks you back into the couch.  

“So fucking beautiful,” he murmurs against your lips. “Gonna breed you. Hm. You want that, don’t you?”

The cord tightens in your lower belly. The bulge of where his tip is hitting you nudges him in his stomach and he looks down. Curses. 

“Look.” 

You follow his eyes and moan. “Namjoon, Namjoon, please come in me. I’m so close. Wanna feel you. Please.” 

He grunts, nodding his head. Licks his fingertips and presses them against your clit. Pleasures you in fast and swift jerks until you’re knocking your head back. Only when he grabs your jaw and kisses you does the cord snap, his lips being your ultimate undoing. 

Namjoon presses you down with his body, keeps you calm and collected. Kisses you all through it, your jaw, your neck, your cheeks. Then his thrusts turn sloppy and his cock twitches in you. He gives you one final hard thrusts and fills you up, groaning against your mouth.

You’re smoothing down the sting of your scratches on his back when he pulls out of you and his cum drips out of you. You wish you could see what he sees, hand on his mouth, careful to catch his drool. You push out more for him and he curses, fondling your pussy with his thumb before he pumps it back in. 

He comes back to you and kisses you. Fixes your hair. Caresses your cheek. Helps you stand on your feet as he leads you into the shower. Washes every inch of your body, heedful of the bruises he left on the back of your thigh. Lathers your hair in your favorite shampoo. Wraps you in a towel. Wanted to moisturize your body, but you told him off, knowing both of you would get horny again. You let him brush your hair, though, placing a comb in his hand. He’s gentle as he undoes the knots, then he blowdries your hair. 

And you do the same for him.

Once the pillow touches your cheeks, you’re both out like a light. 

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist

#namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x oc #namjoon x you #btscreatorscorner #bts smut #bts imagine #namjoon imagine #namjoon scenarios #namjoon fluff #kpop smut #knj x reader #knj #kim namjoon #namjoon

[raplinenthusiasts]

Yo, what you doin' boy?

#tw flashing #kim namjoon #namjoongifs #bts #btsgif #dailybts #dailybangtan #userbangtan #cyphernet #1k #*mine #knj #okay it's time for me to admit #HE IS NOW OFFICIALLY MY BIAS #i'm truly rapline biased <3

[gotmetalkinginmysleep]

#HappyRMday #namjoon #joon #joonie #bts #kim namjoon #Happy birthday RM #bts knj

[kingofbodyrolls]

BTS fic recs: March 2024

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) | 💜 (myg) | apr | may | jun | jul | aug | sep (jjk)(knj) | oct (pjm) | nov | dec (kth)(ksj) |

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

⭐Mistletoe @belovedkingx [9.3k]  // knj x f.reader // christmas!au, f2l // 🥰🥵

📝 christmas is all about spending time with the ones you love, having fun and creating beautiful memories but that was never how it turned out for you. You were dreading the annual family Christmas, but an idea was proposed to you, and shockingly Namjoon agreed to it as well as yourself. But will it help or will it turn out to be a mistake?

🗨️ this was just so cute 🥹🥰

⭐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✨

⭐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. But I would very much love for a Joonie in grey joggers to knock on my door please 🥺🤭 Anyway, it was extremely good, as is everything you do and write! And it was so fucking HOT, like the tension, incredible! It really had me 🥵 So, so fucking good— love 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! ✨

⭐My Plus One @btsgotjams27 [5.4k] // ksj x f.reader // fake dating!au, i2l // 🥰🌩️

📝 when you and jin have weddings to attend, you decide to help one another by agreeing to being each other's plus ones.

🗨️ It was so sweet, it was cute and fluffy and so damn funny! Like there were so many times I was just laughing with the biggest grin plastered on my face. So thank you, thank you for writing this and for cheering me up ✨💯

⭐Meet Me at the Bar [epilogue] @eoieopda [7.5k]  // ksj x f.reader // law school!au, study buddies, bf2l // 🥰😂🥵

📝 you're supposed to be staring down the barrel of the last — and most important — examination of your life, but you only have eyes for your study buddy.

🗨️ omg these two cute fools are so fucking adorable 😭 It was really good, loved everything in it, the writing, the characters and how they have been in love with each other for so long but never said anything to each other, and FINALLY, BAM ✨

⭐Forever @oddinary4bts [25.2k] // ksj x f.reader // idol!au, ex-fiancés to lovers // 🥰🥵🌩️

📝 three years ago, your relationship with jin ended in fights and tears. When life puts him back on your path, you catch a glimpse of light in his eyes that you thought had died when you broke up. Will your relationship blossom into a well-deserved forever or will you lose the love of your life again?

🗨️ so much love and sadness in this! The nostalgia is high, there’s a lot of feelings, a lot of heartbreak. The thoughts about going back for fear of getting your heart broken again, or moving on and shielding the broken pieces of heartbreak? Fuck! So fucking good. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again: everything Ella writes is just pure gold 🥹✨

⭐A Time Just for Us [part of a completed series] @bluewhale52 [5.4k]  // myg x f.reader // established relationship, idol!au // 🥰🥵

📝 you are desperate for a baby.

🗨️ I haven’t even read the series– like I started with this, but it was so freaking good! It was somehow cute, but very very very dirty 😂🥵

⭐Cat Cafes and More @jeonsbabygirlsworld [0.7k]  // myg x f.reader // established relationship // 🥰

📝 you insist yoongi to visit the cat cafe which has cats up for adoption which ends up you adopting a white Persian cat even though you have holly with you both.

🗨️ omg this was just so fucking cute 😭💕Overall just a really cute, fluffy and lovely drabble 🥰💜

⭐Less of Them [ongoing series] @casuallyimagining [currently loading] // myg x f.reader // established relationship, arranged marriage!au, star-crossed lovers // 🥵🌩️🥰🪄

📝 as the daughter of one of the oldest families in the kingdom, when the king decides that it's you he wishes to marry, you're forced to make a decision and fulfill your duty, leaving behind everything you've ever known--and the only man you've ever loved.

🗨️ this chapter was so fucking good, I don’t even know where to begin! First, it was so sad and emotional (at least for me 😭), like OC has been through so fucking much 😭 The poor thing is traumatized and the whole paragraph about her learning the royal life that her father never could have prepared her for 😭😭😭 It’s such an amazing story, you simple have to read it if you haven’t. There’s two out of three parts out.

⭐Would u? [3tan drabble ongoing series] @kithtaehyung [2.3K]  // myg x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au // 🥰

📝 you see a certain fruit-centered trend online.. and decide to test it on yoongi.

🗨️ so fucking sweet and fluffy… This was just so cute, I just love this couple and I can’t get enough of them omg 🥹 and reader being on her period and Yoongi just distracting her pain away, by naturally being himself and doing mundane things 🥹 so domestic I love it! 😭✨ And the tangerines 😭😭😭💖

⭐Strawberry Sundae @youtifulhobi [6k] // jhs x f.reader // slice of life!au, lifeguard!hobi, olympian swimmer!reader, established relationship // 🥰

📝 a few years after you begin dating Jung Hoseok, the two of you reminisce about how you met when he was a lifeguard and saved you from drowning, when in reality you had just fell off your strawberry floatie and he just wanted to talk to you.

🗨️ honestly, this is just fucking cute, adorable really! I really loved it and it’s definitely one of my favorite Hoseok fics now 🥰💯

⭐Sweetest Crush @minjoonalist [4.7k] // jhs x f.reader // brother’s best friend!au // 🥵

📝 what would you do if your friend’s younger sibling suddenly asks you for sex?

🗨️ KBFKDSBFKGH it was so filthy I don’t even know what I read (also there’s just something about a brother’s best friend!!!) 🥵😂

⭐Melatonin @taeinparis [3k] // jhs x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵🥰

📝 sleeping at night was difficult for you, and atop of your boyfriend’s lawn mower-esk snoring, it was impossible. But luckily for you, he knows just the remedy to cure your sleeplessness (and hopefully his snoring).

🗨️ Iiiih this was so dirty, I loved it 💖 there was also a dash of fluff sprinkled in there, but mainly just smut 😂 🥵✨

⭐Our ‘Get Along’ Shirt @dreamyjoons [14.2k] // pjm x f.reader // e2l // 🥵

📝 another day, another endless round of you and Jimin bickering. It’s never ending, all-consuming, and your friends have had enough. Namjoon decides to end it once and for all - with help from a shirt for squabbling toddlers.

🗨️ JFHKJSFKSDJDH— This was so fucking hilarious 😂 The sexual tension between them was SO HIGH 🥵 and when they finally snapped, oh dear God, it was so good! And the whole shit concept, so hilarious and their banter 😂 AND THE SWEAT??? I’m weak okay!! So freaking good, I loved it so much and Namjoon and the rest of the gang were just priceless. Jin at the end had me laughing so hard 🤭💯

⭐Just a Taste @yoonieper [14.2k] // pjm x f.reader // vampire!au, established relationship // 🥵🌩️😂

📝 they said having a relationship with a human wasn’t a good idea, but Jimin liked you too much to ever let that get in the way. Your relationship was beautiful, yes you didn’t know that small important detail about him being a bloodthirsty vampire, but he had it under control. That’s at least what he thought, he never would have predicted a drought….

🗨️ FUCK 😭 This was so fucking good I don’t even know where to begin??? The story in itself was so extremely good, whaaat. And Jimin was so nice, and their love for each other, so fucking pure 💜 This was an emotional rollercoaster and I fucking loved everything about it 😭 and the smut, God, it was so good— I don’t know what to say 😭 And then at the ending, the angst, fuck, I was so afraid if it was going to end just like that, but I was so glad that they found each other again 😭 This is a new favorite of mine, so good, it was slightly sad at times, like angsty, but the love that the have for each other, FUCK. So so fucking incredible 😭 Don’t mind all the crying, it’s happy tears, I promise 💖💯 Also, it’s mostly told in Jimin’s POV, which I just freaking love and it makes the story so good!!!

⭐High on Love @peachypinkygloss [6.4k] // pjm x f.reader // established relationship, racer!jimin // 🥵

📝 Jimin has once again won a race and he takes you out on a ride for the night, taking dangerous but very exciting risks. He should have expected that the rush of adrenaline in your body always turns you into a horny mess.

🗨️ I am just BLOWN AWAY by the fic– holy molly, was it dirty? Yes! Needy? Yes! Cute? Yes! Oh and the car racing, love, love, love! Like, everything in this. And the smut 🥵🥵🥵 I mean, it was so dirt and needy (yes I know I’m using the same words, lol), but FUCK. Incredible! Another ont to add to my faves ✨ And a big bonus for the phone messages, because that was fucking hot too!!! 🥵💯

⭐Bodyguard (there’s a pt 2) @yoonpobs [2.1k] // kth x f.reader // e2l, bodyguard!au // 🥵

📝 you protect taehyung from people but forget about the biggest threat. yourself.

🗨️ omg 🥵 This extremely good, so enticing and there was just all the build up sexual tension at the end— ugh! So good! 🥵 There wasn’t any smut in it, but damn it, it was still very lustful (I love those undertones). What’s not to love? It’s short, sweet and sensual ✨💯 There’s even a part two that I haven’t read yet!!!

⭐New Tricks @geniuslab [10.1k] // kth x f.reader // dog trainer!au, s2l // 🥵😂🥰

📝 when your newly adopted puppy turns out to be a lot more work than you expected, a cute dog trainer comes to the rescue. You soon become friends, but you begin to realize friendship might not be all you want.

🗨️ awww this was so fucking cute and fluff, I loved it som much 💖💯

⭐In my Head @sketchguk [8k] // kth x f.reader // college!au // 🥵🌩️

📝 taehyung’s friends love you ー adore you. they probably want to fuck you, but they’ll never admit to it. instead, they’ll push taehyung’s limits in the middle of a frat party, testing just how close they can get to you before he takes you to bed in a fit of jealousy. and maybe, just maybe, one of his friends can have a taste too (if he’s lucky).  

🗨️ okay, okay. This was hella 🥵 Like WOAH, filthy, steamy and just dirty! I am so mad at Taehyung though! Like why can’t he be with OC? What is it that he can’t give her? But tbh, with the way that he’s acting, I feel like she should just get with one of his friends instead 😭 Like, it seems like Guk loves her so much, or Jimin, the little freak he was in this 🥵 

⭐Gold Rush @ditttiii [4.4k] // kth x f.reader // s2l!au // 🥵🌩️

📝 kim taehyung is a walking heartbreak waiting to happen. all narrow eyes and long nose and devilish smirks, he is everyone’s dream. after months of sharing an elevator with the man who makes your heart race until you can scarcely breathe when the chance finally comes; are you willing to risk it all for his touch?

🗨️ OMG— I finally got to read this, and FUCK. SHIT. It is INSANELY beautiful (and sad too 🥹). But goddamn it, the love OC has for Taehyung, oh my. And the bittersweet feelings are what makes this hauntingly beautiful 💖 Again, I have a hard time coming up with words, words for how beautiful this masterpiece truly is 😭 Just— perfection 💯 Also, because it was so bittersweet, I really love the open ending, like getting to imagine whatever you like for this couple 😭💜

⭐To Give a Helping Hand (part 2) @oddinary4bts [3.1k] // jjk x f.reader // idol!au // 🥵

📝 when Jungkook finally approaches you at the gym, he realizes you’ve been wanting him just as badly as he’s been wanting you.

🗨️ In case you haven’t read part two, here’s your psa to do so right now. It’s just incredible (as everything that Ella writes, tbh ✨). OC is really being a brat in this one and JK is down baaaaaad 🥵

⭐Desire [ongoing series] pt1 + pt2 @jeonsbabygirlsworld [3k]  // jjk x f.reader + myg x f.reader (ft. eunwoo) // slice of life!au // 🥵🌩️

📝 life was easy until you meet the eye candy of your life and the adventure with him is a hell of ride, but there is certain someone who seems to get hurt in this.

🗨️ It’s a very interesting story, it’s very complex and I can’t wait to read more!

⭐When Worlds Collide [ongoing series] @letjungcoook7 [currently loading…] // 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.

🗨️ I’ve read the first two parts and they are AMAZING! The story is so interesting and I already know that there’s so much more to Jungkook and OC in this one. So exciting to read more!! ❤️‍🔥

⭐Liquor Lips @letjungcoook7 [1.5k] // jjk x f.reader // established relationship // 🥵

📝 author didn’t write a summary.

🗨️ it was incredible good, like I want to read more (it’s not a series though!). It’s the perfect dirty little one-shot/drabble ❤️‍🔥

This month was really tough for me, mentally… I struggled with my own mental health and it got really bad. I was writing my major series (18 chapters god what was I thinking 😂) at the same time (still am lol), and I struggled with reading as I used to, so the list isn’t as long as normally, maybe, I did try to read a lot by the end of the month to make up for it. But yeah 🫶 Hopefully I have more time next month, because I expect to finish my series there, and then I’ll take a small break from writing and just read, because I really miss it 🥹 

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 💜

#bts fic recs #bts fic #bts fics #bts imagine #bts imagines #bts scenarios #yoongi smut #Yoongi x reader #bts smut #namjoon x reader #bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts fanfic #bts fanfction #bts x reader smut #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts x oc #jimin x reader #pjm x reader #seokjin x reader #hoseok x reader #knj x reader #jhs x reader #bangtan x reader #bangtan smut #bangtan fanfic #bangtan fic #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut

[m-yg93]

Solace

Pairing: KNJ x Reader

WC: 13.5k

Genre: Roommates2L

Rating: M (minors dni)

Warnings: Brief blood mention from a cut, mention of minor character death (sickness), fingering, hand job, big dick joon, belly bulge, unprotected sex, mentions of choking, creampie, dirty talk, inconsistent POV

Banner by @sugarwithtea​

Beta’d by @yoongiobsessed​ and Sara (twitter link)

Summary: 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.

Author’s Note: This should have been written months ago. I don’t have an excuse. Oh well, it’s here now! 

Part of the Room For Rent collab

There needs to be a word that describes the feeling of being happy for someone while simultaneously going through betrayal.

Namjoon is happy for Yoongi, of course he is, but watching him from across their kitchen table is sending an uncomfortable wave through him. He didn’t expect his oldest and closest friend to run from him, leave him in the dust, just straight up abandon him.

“Oh my God, you’re being dramatic. I’m not abandoning you, I’m moving to Gangnam. It’s just across the river! You and your freakishly thick thighs can bike to my new place in 20 minutes.”

Okay so perhaps he’s being a little dramatic but what else was he supposed to think? He and Yoongi had shared this apartment for years. There had been countless sleepless nights fueled by too much ramen, the living room littered with energy drinks as they bumped heads and helped each other brainstorm ideas for new beats. These walls hold melodies and memories, and he’s just expected to share them with someone else now?

“Plus, I told you you’re welcome to move in with Jin and I. His dad’s some CEO and the apartment is ridiculously lavish. There’s a room with your name on the door if you want it. I’m serious, Jin has this thing with plaques and has a name for every room, it’s honestly worrying. I won’t even tell you what he decided to name the master bedroom.”

Namjoon purses his lips at the thought. That was the main reason behind turning Yoongi’s offer down. He likes Jin and genuinely loves that he brings so much light into Yoongi’s naturally dreary life. Seeing Yoongi’s lips fight against a smile only to burst into the cheesiest, gummy grin while audibly groaning about his boyfriend’s terrible jokes brings a warmth to Namjoon’s chest every time. Yoongi deserves to be happy and he knows Jin is the best person for the job. But he knows full well the couple will christen every room of that apartment and he wants no part of it.

“I know,” he agrees, “But with the proximity to Yongsan park? I don’t know if I’ll ever leave this place.” The open fields just outside the doors of their apartment are the first solace he reaches for when the instrumentals in his brain just keep fighting each other, transforming into the screeching noise of the streets under his window. The trees don’t talk back but letting out his frustrations under the canopy of leaves feels like it helps anyway. “I guess I’ll have to try to pick up some extra freelance contracts to make up for having to pay the rent alone. I hate having to produce meaningless pop but it brings in decent cash when I’m in a tight spot,” he laments.

“Dude, I’m not heartless. I didn’t just decide to move out and leave you stranded. I have a friend from high school. I don’t see her often but she’s a good time and she’s looking to move out of her parents’ place now that she’s done with her degree. It’ll be easier to find work in the city. I’ve mentioned her. Y/N? I go out to dinner with her every couple months to make sure we keep in touch. She’s pretty shy and she’s quiet, you’ll barely notice she’s here.”

There’s a wave of relief that comes with knowing he won’t have to pinch pennies but it quickly turns frigid at the realization that he’ll have to live with a stranger. What if she was a morning person? What if she was a smoker and made the whole apartment fill with the lingering acrid smell? What if she killed his plants?

“I can see your brain working overtime. Breathe, I wouldn’t offer the place to someone I know doesn’t fit your vibe,” Yoongi reassures. I guess there’s not much else to do but wait and see how compatible your living situations are.

Thankfully their own music equipment had been bought separately because they’ve been bickering all day when Yoongi tries to put something in a box from their shared spaces only to have Namjoon object.

“What are you going to do with a wok, Joon? YOU DON’T COOK!”

“Jin has a plethora of different ones in his kitchen and we both know it! Maybe your friend likes to cook, huh? Maybe she’ll want the wok to make meals.”

“Make you meals, you mean?” Okay so maybe he was hoping the new roommate situation came with food because losing both Yoongi and Jin’s cooking overnight was going to hit him hard. He’ll wither away into a string bean at this rate seeing as he’s not allowed near the knives nor the stove.

Yoongi must take pity in the pleading look in his eyes because he puts down the wok with a sigh and passes to the next cupboard. Namjoon is distracted by Jin’s entrance, always loud and boisterous.

“Hey! How is packing going? I just parked the moving van downstairs but I don’t know how long I’m allowed to be there.”

“It’s fine,” Yoongi shouts from across the apartment. “I’d be done already if Joon didn’t try to steal all my shit and force me to leave them here.” He’s zooming past him, bony shoulder purposefully digging into Joon’s bicep.

“I’m monitoring the fair share of roommate assets,” he huffs. “Jin’s apartment has more shit in it than he already needs. You’re leaving me alone with only memories that you once cared for me. The least you could do is not leave with half of what’s in this measly dwelling when your sugar daddy’s got you up in a penthouse.”

They both know the jabs are jokes. Jin has more money than anyone needs, but he’s also a hard worker and spent his youth learning how to take over the business from his father when the time comes. He’d swept Yoongi off his feet with expensive dinners and outrageous gifts when they were first dating, only knowing how to flaunt his money for attention before Yoongi set him straight and taught him that he’d have to put more thought into his courting if he expected him to stick around. Clearly, he did.

Reminiscing about his, nearly ex, roommate almost distracts him enough to miss Yoongi trying to sneak a thin square package into his last remaining box.

“You’re going to take that vinyl out of here over my dead body, Yoongi!” The apartment echoes the lament in surround sound.

They do eventually make it to the van parked downstairs after Yoongi finishes taping up his boxes with only a limited amount of protest from Namjoon.. The air is humid, clothes sticking to Namjoon’s skin as he chases after the wind from Yoongi’s open window like a dog on his first car ride. Jin’s apartment building is a stark opposite from their, his, own. Whereas the outside of his building is all grey concrete walls, Jin’s is all sleek glass of floor-to-ceiling windows causing the brightness of the sun to reflect off and into Namjoon’s eyes as he looks up to the top where his friend will now be living.

The air conditioning of the lobby hits full force, the trio letting out a pleasant hum which quickly turns into a deep groan when they see the elevator boasting an out of order sign. Two pairs of sharp eyes round on Jin, malice dripping from furrowed brows.

“I swear it was working when I left this morning. They must be using all the power to keep each unit’s AC going through the heat wave. The stairs are this way.” He points to a corner of the lobby, tight corridor leading to a single door.

“The stairs? You live in the penthouse, that’s FIFTEEN flights, babe.” Yoongi is quick to point out.

“Are you trusting enough to keep all your music equipment in the van for who knows how long this heat is going to last? I know you’re going to complain about all the moisture in the air messing with your delicate settings.” Namjoon knows he’s got him there. Yoongi would suffer through a natural disaster if it meant keeping his equipment safe and at peak performance.

“You’re right,” Yoongi sighs dejectedly, head thrown backwards. “But I won’t be any help bringing the gear up. You see these legs? They’ll snap like toothpicks if I try to bring them up. Guess Biceps and Shoulders need to do all the heavy lifting.” There’s an airy lilt to his voice when he figures he’s saved himself from the worst bit.

“Doubt they’ll stay that small seeing how many times you’ll be going up and down those stairs to bring up all the light boxes while we deal with the heavy stuff. You’ll have lungs of steel with all that cardio, buddy. I’m sure Jin will appreciate how long he can hold his dick in your throat without you needing to breathe after that.” Namjoon sends him a salacious wink.

Yoongi’s face, which had been a flushed shade of pink from the heat, drains immediately when he realizes the position he’s put himself in but Namjoon doesn’t let him change his mind. He just claps a hand on his shoulder and turns around to get to the van and pick up the first console they’ll need to bring up to Yoongi’s new designated studio space.

Namjoon regrets showing Friends to Jin after today. If he has to hear ‘PIVOT’ one more forsaken time he might choke that windshield wiper laugh right out his friend’s throat. His whole body is aching when he sets his ass down on Jin’s plush couch, finally tasting a bite of heaven after all those steps but it can’t be savored long.

“Get up.” Yoongi’s voice breaks through his needed rest. “The elevator mishap made us take way longer than planned and we’re already late to pick up Y/N.” If anyone sees him fighting back tears that’s none of their business.

The drive out to the suburbs of Seoul is peaceful, the population seems to have holed up inside and away from the sun’s rays. They pull up to a nice two-story home. Namjoon can’t see much into the property since it’s surrounded by tall brick walls, but it’s unnecessary as he can see the silhouette of a young woman waiting outside the gate, piles of boxes at her feet.

They all pour out of the truck, Yoongi darts out first to meet her halfway where she throws herself in his arms. There’s a lot of squealing and Namjoon isn’t sure from who it’s coming out of in the mess of limbs. They separate and approach where he and Jin had waited by the vehicle.

“I’m Y/N, you must be Jin!” There’s a hand out ready to be shaken but it’s presented in front of the wrong man.

“Actually, Jin is this one,” Yoongi corrects, taking your wrist and moving it to the correct person.

“Oh my God, that’s embarrassing. I just figured it was the big one. I’ve heard about your muscle kink enough once you figured out you were into men that I just-- You know what? I’m going to shut up now. Hi, sorry about that. Nice to meet you.” There’s a nervous giggle in between words that’s instantly endearing.

Jin doesn’t seem offended, laughing alongside her. “No worries, he’s plenty satisfied without the beefiness of his teenage crushes.” He wiggles his eyebrows comically which has her chuckling and Yoongi whining.

“This is Namjoon, your new roommate. Joon, this is Y/N.” It’s his turn to shake hands, your fingers so thin and delicate around his much bigger grasp. He takes the time to really take you in, looking down at you; wide grin and smooth skin that spans from your neck down into your… Nope, face!

“You have a nice face.” For a lyricist he sure did have a way with words.

“Thank you?” Your eyes trail to the side where Yoongi stands, eyes deadpan and mouth shut tight.

“He grows on you, I swear. Get in the car, we’ll grab your boxes.” Yoongi says as he passes in front of you with an icy stare towards Namjoon. Okay, so he could have made a better first impression.

You don’t have many boxes which makes sense. The apartment is furnished and Yoongi had left his bedroom set for you since he wouldn’t need it at Jin’s. He remembers leaving his parent’s house with barely anything. It had taken a while for Yoongi and him to make the apartment seem like people actually lived in it. They’d spent far too long eating cup noodles while sitting on the floor in the corner of the kitchen.

Jin takes his place behind the wheel, Yoongi slipping in beside him in the passenger seat. The earlier ride in the backseat wasn’t so bad for Namjoon since he could sit crookedly to fit his long legs behind the couple’s seats in front of him but your presence beside him forces his knees to hit the back of Yoongi’s seat.

“Can you push your seat up a bit? Your little legs don’t need that much space,” Namjoon shoots ahead of him.

“And just for that comment your giant ass and long limbs can suck it up. Respect your elders, brat,” Yoongi snaps back. Maybe he deserved that one.

He sends you a sheepish look and an awkward smile as he spreads open his thighs lewdly. His knee hits yours despite you sticking your legs together demurely, hands politely sitting in your lap. The touch attracts your gaze and Namjoon can track your eyes as they drag up the bare skin of his quad, past the hem where the material of his shorts dig into his thighs, and settles just a little too long where both his legs meet. He can practically feel your stare burning a hole into his groin, a heat expanding through his body.

He doesn’t even realize when he lets out an uneasy cough and you’re quick to look away with a start when you hear it; clearly having been caught in your little perversion. The flush that builds on your cheeks is shameful enough that he doesn’t mention anything more, only locking away the memory of you blushing and embarrassed for later.

Namjoon is thankful that with four pairs of arms there won’t be a need to do multiple trips for your boxes. Jin sends you and Yoongi off with a box each but loads Namjoon’s arms with three; enough to block his view so he has to peek around them to see where he’s going. There might not be many boxes but the ones he’s been given are heavy enough to make his arms shake underneath their weight. He’s absolutely going to blame that on having had to haul all of Yoongi’s belongings during the day and definitely not on the fact he’s weak. He goes to the gym regularly!

“Thanks for helping! Just leave them by the door, I’ll take care of unloading everything,” you call from across the apartment. Yoongi must be giving you a tour of the place.

Namjoon kicks off his shoes and crashes head first into the couch, his big body halfway dropping off of it. All his muscles ache and he’s sticky with sweat. His lids close, reaching for some rest. His stomach rumbles, the memory of breakfast fading. There’s soft footsteps sneaking up on him. He’s trained himself enough to catch Yoongi coming. He’s broken enough things when his roommate suddenly appeared by his side and gave him a spook.

“Don’t think I’m an idiot, Joon. I could see the way you looked at her. I’m only going to say this once, don’t fuck my friend.” His voice is almost sinister as it whispers in his ear. Namjoon’s eyes quickly open wide. He wasn’t looking at you in any sort of way and he was about to defend himself, mouth open with a denial on his tongue. He doesn’t have the chance since you pop around the corner, seeing them both with their heads too close to each other, Yoongi’s glare facing Namjoon’s incredulous look.

“Everything good here?” you ask.

Yoongi’s expression shifts, gummy smile on full display but Namjoon still sees the daggers in his eyes. “Yep, I was just saying bye to Joon. Jin’s already back at the van and we need to get it back to the vendor. Text me if you need anything Y/N. And Joon? Remember what I said.” He and Jin take their leave, surely to start desecrating their new shared space.

“Okay? Is it just me or was he being weird?” You look back at Namjoon but there’s only a shrug of his shoulders as your reply. “Alright, well I’m going to start unpacking then.” You’re just about to turn tail when you can hear the growl coming from Namjoon again. “Ah, you must be hungry, you’ve been going around the city all day. Is there anything already in the kitchen?”

“No, we went through all of it when Yoongi and Jin decided to have a goodbye dinner this week. You get started on unpacking and I’ll run down to the store for some stuff. I think we’re both too tired to do much effort but I can grab ingredients for some decent ramen.” Namjoon slips his shoes back on and running out the door as soon as he finishes speaking.

Luckily, there’s a small family owned market just down the street from the apartment. Mrs. Park is going to be sad to hear that her ‘little dumpling’, as she called Yoongi, won’t be visiting her anymore. She’s mostly used to seeing Namjoon anyway. Yoongi may have been the one cooking but Joon was always the one sent off on errands for any ingredients that were missing midway through the meal preparation.

The bell chimes above him when he walks into the little shop. Mrs. Park doesn’t even look up from her newspaper, head staring firmly into her lap. There’s a low buzz emitting from the artificial lights mixing with the music that’s playing in the shop, something Namjoon doesn’t know, a beat that hasn’t been popular in half a century.

The aisles are familiar and he grabs the ingredients absentmindedly, throwing things in the handheld basket hooked onto the crook of his arm. Green onions from the produce section, a carton of eggs and a hunk of cheese from the dairy section, and spam from the canned goods area.

Mrs. Park finally lifts her eyes from whatever news story that had her attention and gives him a warm smile that reaches her eyes. He should give his grandma a call. A smooth wrinkled hand grabs his groceries one by one, slowly bringing them closer for inspection. Her frail finger punches into the keys of the register.

His eyes wander while his items disappear from the counter and into a bag beneath the surface. The sky has turned a slate grey from an overbearing cloud covering the sun, bringing the vibrance of outside down to a dull.

Against the window is a shelf filled with flowers. Namjoon has often seen people grabbing a bouquet as they wait for their total. He remembers a man with a tie midway undone, suit jacket flapping behind him as he rushed out frantically. A forgotten anniversary he suspected. Just last week, there was a small child tugging at his father’s sleeve, pointing at a particularly bright blossom and requesting to bring it home to his mother. The memory brings a small smile to his lips.

He doesn’t contemplate long before reaching for a lonely white rose in a near empty bucket. He remembers certain symbolism from the time he read The Language of Flowers. Purity, innocence, a new beginning, and reverence. He thinks he catches a mischievous glint in Mrs. Park’s eye as she hands him the bag of groceries in one hand while the rose remains in his other.

The universe allows him only long enough to step out of the shop before the skies open up with a loud clap and water erupts in a downpour. Shock overtakes him and he freezes on the spot as he lets the fat water droplets sink into the fabric of his clothes. The cold immediately seepsinto his skin and settles in his bones, eyes shut tight and mouth open.

The loud rumble of distant thunder urges him to start moving. The plastic of the bag is slippery in his grasp and there’s a stinging pain in his palm from where the rose’s thorns dig in. There’s an uncomfortable squeak from the leather of his sandals with every heavy step he takes. As he sprints the few blocks back to the apartment, the loud slap slap slap of his foot hitting the pavement.

The door of the apartment slams into the wall as Namjoon rushes to get inside, the doorknob undoubtedly leaving a mark from the force at which Namjoon has opened it to throw himself inside.

“Namjoon? Is everything okay?” you call from the living room. “I’m sorry for the mess, I’m trying to fit in my own books across your collection. I don’t want to mess up the system you’ve got going on.”

“Yeah, all good, just wasn’t paying attention,” he reassures.

Your head pops out from the hallway to take inventory of the situation yourself, not quite trusting the waver in his voice. “Oh god, it started raining? I was so in my bubble that I didn’t even notice. You’re soaked! Let me grab you a towel.” You’re off to the bathroom before he can even thank you, already back to exchange the flower still in his grasp for the towel you hand him.

“I hope it didn’t take a beating on my way back over here,” he says, worry tainting the edge of his voice.

“No, it’s perfect. Thank you. Do you know if you have any vases?”

“I’m sure Yoongi’s left some in the kitchen. Jin had a habit of getting him a new bouquet every month. Don’t tell Yoongi I said this but he’d blush every time despite all the grumbling he did about it. Happened every month for two years, like clockwork,” he teases.

“That sounds about right. Yoongi will never admit it but I know how much praise and appreciation means to him. I’m glad Jin gives him that. I’ll go find it.” You’re turning tail and heading into the kitchen in search of the vase.

He pats himself dry enough so that he’s no longer dripping on the floor before he follows you in. You’re in front of an open cabinet, head tilted back to look at the top shelf of it. Your hand is stretched to its capacity, boosted by the tip of your toes, one knee nearly hiking onto the countertop to give yourself enough reach.

He truly only means to help when he sneaks in behind you to grab at the vase. He doesn’t expect to catch you off guard, sending you backwards and off balance with a squeak. His grasp abandons its path towards the top shelf and instead redirects to land on your hips, pinning you against his chest.

You’re taken by surprise at the strong hands grabbing onto your side, a hard wall of muscle at your back, heat radiating from his skin, his wet clothes dampening yours.

“Are you okay?” he asks, breath just a little too close to your ear.

There’s a hitch in your voice when you reply hastily, “Mhm! All good. I’ll let you get that actually. I’m going to change. My clothes are gross from today. You should too, you’re going to catch a chill if you stay in those wet clothes. Your shirt’s so soaked I can see right through it. Not that I was looking! I’ll just- right.”

You’re running off before he can articulate a thought, the door of your room slamming shut behind you. He’s nearly certain he can hear an embarrassed groan through the wall despite that. He does get the vase down and fills it with water, dropping the rose into it before he slips into his room as well.

The rain will be good for the heat in the long run but as it stands it just permeates the apartment with heavy humidity. He grabs a pair of comfortable shorts and a tank top to change into. He passes next to your room on his way to the bathroom. He takes the time to stop and knock at your door.

“Y/N? Do you need to use the bathroom? I’m going to jump in the shower really quick.”

“Go ahead! I’ll take one after dinner.”

His clumsy fingers struggle with the lock behind him, clothes falling onto the floor. The bluetooth speaker that has a permanent residence in the bathroom is turned on, a playlist going at random. He makes sure to adjust the temperature of the water, slightly colder than he usually would. It’s absolutely to combat the heat and definitely not the memory of your body pressed against his in the kitchen; soft under his hands and plump against where his crotch pushed in under the curve of your ass.

Oh god, focus on something else. Listen to the music. The beat is uplifting and he finds himself singing along to the lyrics. A popular song from a girl group member. He recalls Yoongi mentioning he’s worked on something similar.

He lets the tepid water run down his body, hands quick and rough where he scrubs the soap into his skin, not letting them stay in one spot too long to melt into the feeling. Yep, he definitely needs to have it colder. It’s near shivering levels of frigid when he ducks his head under the stream to rinse the shampoo out of his hair.

He’s nearly forgotten about the shape of your body against him, mind preoccupied with the soprano of the singer in his ears. Pop pop, pop, you want it. His body responds as if with muscle memory from seeing this song trend with its choreo everywhere online. His hands take turns pointing at an open hand and back again, fists then popping as if miming fireworks going down a zig zag pattern.

The haunting thoughts of the kitchen eventually disperse enough for him to exit the stream of water and change into the clean, dry clothes. You’re already in the kitchen humming to yourself once he leaves the room followed by a puff of steam.

“Do you need me to help with anything?” he proposes.

“Yeah, that’d be great. Can you slice up the spam and drop the eggs into the water? There’s a pot already boiling.” Put eggs in water and cut up some meat. Sure, he can do that.

The eggs may have cracked a little when he quite literally dropped them into the pot but that’s fine. A little hard boiled never hurt anyone. He swears he’s extra careful when you hand him a knife and let him stand in front of the cutting board. Just going to very daintily hold down the spam and slowly bring the knife down-

“You’re holding it upside down. Sharp edge towards the bottom and make sure you curl your knuckles in so you don’t nick yourself.” Right, of course, he knew the knife was upside down. Just making sure you did, hah.

He manages to make some slightly uneven slices until about halfway through the block but eventually there’s just not enough space for his big sausage fingers to hold on and the knife just slips…right into his palm.

“Ah, shit!” He jumps back, letting the knife clatter to the floor. His uninjured hand keeps the pressure onto the wound as small river of red runs between his fingers. He’s taken by surprise and lets himself be manhandled to the sink before his wounded hand is pushed under the cold, running water.

“I should have figured why Yoongi was so ominously telling me where the first aid kit was in the kitchen. And why he asked how often I cooked at home.” There’s shuffling behind him and a small hand sneaking its way between his body and the sink.

“Take it out, I’ll pat it dry and put a bandage on.” He’s careful to keep his hand stable as your delicate fingers patch him up. A soft pressure with a gauze and a more instant one for the wrap that goes around his palm.

“My friend JK is going to think I took up boxing and ask me to go to the gym with him if he sees this.” He tries to laugh it off, bringing humor into his near amputation.

“I don’t think you need any incentive to go to the gym.” Your eyes are trailing up his arm, stopping at his bicep and following all the way to the middle of his chest. The flex he pushes is completely accidental and was absolutely not to show off the progress he’s been building.

“I take care of myself, I guess.”

“Right.” There’s a small laugh in your voice. “Go take care of yourself, away from the kitchen. I’ll handle the rest.”

He lets himself be shooed out of the hot space, out into the living room where he sees your earlier comment about a mess. There’s books all over the floor in little towers looking for a home on his already overly compacted bookshelf. He picks a few of his bigger tomes to rehouse to his room which allows space for yours to make themselves at home.

He doesn’t notice how long he’s been calculating which books need to be relocated until he hears the clatter of bowls hitting the coffee table behind him.

“I figured we could eat in here today, more casual and all. Thank you for helping me make sense of where to put my stuff. I didn’t want to impose.”

“This is your home too now, you deserve to have space for your things. Yoongi wasn’t much of a reader. Thank you for dinner. I’m afraid you’re going to be in charge of feeding me a lot. I can always just order in but Yoongi was always on my ass for spending money on takeout.” He has the humility to look ashamed at his incapacity to nurture himself.

“No worries, it was kind of implied when he told me to take his spot. I like cooking, so I don’t mind, really. Tell me more about yourself though, I only know what Yoongi’s told me which is pretty much only that you produce music like he does. You’ve got an eye for art from what I can see of the prints on the walls.”

“Ah, actually those are all mine,” he blushes and points to a camera that takes a place on one of the higher shelves. “I like biking around and I figured it was a shame to see all the pretty landscapes without getting to commemorate them properly so I got into photography. I’m not a professional or anything but I enjoy it. I’m actually going to Comic Con this weekend with a group of my friends. They’re cosplaying and they wanted someone around to take pictures of them in costume. JK's actually got a pretty great Spiderman thing going on and it works for him with all the, you know, muscles and spandex.” He’s gesturing a little wildly over his body, as if you’re familiar with Jungkook’s physique.

“I don’t but I can imagine.” Your eyes are following where his hands had gestured over him, gaze roaming over the muscles he’s boasting himself. “You don’t happen to have any spandex hiding in your closet yourself?”

“Nothing like him, riding shorts for when I take particularly long bike rides. I don’t tend to favor it, they really ride up.” His sentence ends in an uncomfortable chuckle and he avoids your view, completely missing how your eyes have started to glaze over.

The small talk fades after that, replaced with the sound of chopsticks hitting the edge of bowls and the occasional slurps. You hold your chopsticks loosely between bites, your phone in your spare hand just mindlessly scrolling.

There’s a familiar tune coming softly from your direction, a low hum of a melody that triggers Namjoon’s receptors. He can place it pretty quickly, pop pop pop uh uh.

His hands take on a mind of their own. He doesn’t stop chewing as his fists go through the movement. Open palm, point, switch, zigzag.

He wouldn’t have even not realized what he was doing if a little giggle hadn’t interrupted the flow of the song. He freezes, eyes widening. It’s a slow pan of his eyes to look into his peripheral, as if not moving his head would somehow render him invisible and able to melt away from the embarrassing situation he’s caught himself in.

You’re doing your best to hold it in, lips nearly completely sucked into your mouth, teeth forcing them closed. He appreciates the effort but he can admit the jig is up. He picks his chopsticks back up with a little cough, gathering his bearings.

“It’s a catchy song,” he defends.

“Oh absolutely, it gets stuck in your head so easily. Even when hearing it off key and through the rush of running water,” you tease.

He pretends to be offended by that. “I’m a producer! I’ll have you know I have great pitch.”

“Of course, someone should tell Nayeon that she’s in the wrong key then. How embarrassing for her to be performing it that way.”

You both dissolve into laughter after that. The silence that follows feels a lot lighter than it previously had been and he breathes a little easier.

“Leave your dishes in the sink, I’ll take care of it in exchange for the cooking labour. I rarely break things anymore. Even if Yoongi won’t let me forget about his favorite mug. I still insist that the shape wasn’t ergonomic and that’s why it slipped out of my hand. He was so mad he refused to drink any coffee that day and knowing Yoongi you know how that was more a punishment for me than it was for himself,” he shares the memory of how grumpy Yoongi had been that day. They must have restarted the same beat half a dozen times. Suffice to say it wasn’t a very productive day and Namjoon owed him a new mug of his choosing.

Your first night together was fruitful. You’ve managed to unpack and meld your belongings with his, have dinner - where he didn’t kill himself in the kitchen - and bond over some banter. You’ve practically ingrained yourself in his life already and Namjoon isn’t sure if that’s good or a little terrifying. He’s not the type to usually feel comfortable with a stranger so quickly. He’s glad Yoongi had you take his place, he doubts it would have been this pleasurable if he had had to place an ad online.

There’s a ghost of a smile stuck on his face when he closes the door to his bedroom. Being alone in his room brings forth the thoughts he’d pushed aside back to the forefront. His computer monitor lights up the space, calling him back. The mixing board on his desk blares a signal he can’t ignore. He has a project to finish and the deadline is knocking at his door incessantly. He sits in his chair with a sigh and slips his headphones over his ears, blocking out the loud patter of raindrops on his window.

He awakes with a start. His back is sore and his skin is damp with sweat. He’s too old to be falling asleep on his desk like this, he’s going to feel it in the morning. The room is pitch black around him. A quick jiggle of the mouse tells him the computer is dead and there’s a hint of panic at the thought of having lost his work. Rationale takes over to remind him that it automatically gets stored on the cloud at consistent intervals. They’ve learned their lesson too many times before implementing that.

There’s an odd irritation at the back of his mind and he realizes the thrum of the AC is missing. Ah, no power. The storm must have knocked it out. His muscles scream from the stretch and there’s more than a few uncomfortable cracks when he gets up and extends his arms above his head. He slips out of his clothes in hopes that more skin in contact with any air might help him cool down. Besides, he always sleeps in his boxers anyway. The air has dried up his throat and he can feel his body begging for water. He grabs the latest water bottle to litter his desk, tips it all the way upside down but not a drop comes.

He hopes he can traverse the apartment to the kitchen silently. Between his heavy footsteps and the stubborn squeaky floorboard outside his bedroom he’s worried about waking you. He sends a silent prayer into the universe that you’re a deep sleeper.

He does hit the floorboard, sending a creek into the night and he freezes for a second but no angry outbursts come from your room to scold him. He’s slowly taking a step in front of the other, carefully moving his weight from one foot to the next, the little smack of his sole hitting the wooden floor melding into the sounds of the rain still pouring outside.

The pressure from the faucet sends the water stream beating onto the metal of the sink and he hopes the curse he lets out fades into the night. He downs two whole glasses before he feels sated and prepares for the slow trek back to his room.

He’s just outside your door when the apartment flashes as lightning touches down in the distance. Namjoon stops moving as the roll of thunder comes quickly behind, nearly covering the strangled gasp from the other side of the door.

“Y/N? Are you okay in there?" The door to Yoongi’s room always had trouble latching since Namjoon drunkenly threw himself into the frame thinking he was heading into his own bed one night.

There’s a small crack where he can press his ear to. He holds his breath, straining to hear above the rattle of the heavy rain against the windows. For a second he believes he must’ve imagined it, or perhaps you’d shifted in your sleep.

He has one foot in the air, prepared to shuffle back to his own room when he hears it again. A choked sob hidden between the pitter patter of drops slamming against the glass.

He’s more insistent this time when he calls your name and pairs it with a soft knock against the wood of your door.

The noise seems to give you a spook because he swears you let out a high pitched ‘EEK’ in your surprise. There’s no additional verbal answer so he takes his chances on turning the knob and poking his head inside.

“Y/N? It’s okay, it’s just me. It’s Namjoon,” he reassures.

He can’t see a thing, the room is pure darkness. The streetlights outside have gone down with the rest of the power grid so he can’t tell if you’re hurt or might need help.

“Joonie?” There’s a soft voice coming from where he knows the bed is, muffled and timid.

“Yeah, can I come in?” he asks.

“Yeah,” comes an answer, meek and nearly whispered.

He hadn’t come into this room since you unpacked so he’s careful to take small, careful steps towards the bed, nearly bent in half with his arms out to feel for any furniture you might have moved into the path. He taps the bed tentatively when he finally reaches it, feeling long limbs under his palm.

He shyly takes his hands off you and makes his way towards the headboard, knees hitting the edge of the mattress as guidance. He reaches out again, expecting to find you but he only feels more blanket covered lumps.

“Are you hiding under the blanket?”

No words come but the hard shape under his palm moves in a nodding motion. He sinks down, kneeling onto the floor a little harder than he expected. Difficult to judge distance in the darkness.

“Can I pull the comforter down? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

The fabric moves under his touch until the feeling of goose down turns into silky hair. He moves his fingers down, grazing your ears until they reach your cheeks, damp and hot against his skin.

“Are you crying? What’s going on? Is moving away from home for the first time getting to you?” It definitely had for him at first. He’d go back to his parents’ house every night to have his mother’s cooking for dinner and only started spending the evenings at the apartment after his younger sister had mocked him about not being able to stay too far from his mother’s comfort.

You let out a shamed whine below him. “No…” He stays silent, waiting to see if you’ll share more. “The thunder woke me up and then I tried to turn on the light but it wouldn’t work. And-”

Lightning interrupts you and as the room flashes in sudden light Namjoon sees your face for an instant. Your eyes are wide, laced with red from the tears but one thing he can tell for sure is that in that second- you’re absolutely terrified.

Your breath gets shaky and there’s a twitch in your hands where he can tell you struggle not to throw the blanket back over your head to escape.

“Shhh, it’s okay. You’re afraid of the storm, I get it.” His grip on you tightens when he feels you tremble as the thunder rolls behind.

“You can say it. It’s stupid to be scared of storms. I’m just a big weenie.”

“I’d never call you a weenie, Y/N. You know, my friend JK is afraid of microwaves. Runs out of the kitchen and hides across his apartment every time he needs to heat something up. He’s convinced they’re going to blow up and take him with them in the blast.”

You snort, which is followed by a loud slap of skin on skin that he can only assume is you covering your mouth in response to the noise that just escaped. He’s huffing out his own chuckle in response. Adorable.

“Okay, so what are you afraid of then Mr. Tough Guy?” You’re more combative now. He’ll take that over the fearful demeanor you had a minute ago.

“Me? Hmm, I don’t think there’s anything too unusual. I’m not super fond of spiders, I suppose?”

“Spiders? But Yoongi told me you’re obsessed with crabs. They’re basically water spiders. They walk similarly and they’ve even got more legs!” Oh, you’re heated now but you’ve hit him where it hurts.

“How dare you!” The offended gasp he lets out overtakes the drone of rain coming from outside. “Crabs are cute little friends. I have half a mind to walk out and leave you alone in this storm after that.” He fakes getting up but a small hand digs into the flesh of his bicep.

“Don’t! Please. I’m sorry, crabs are adorable, you’re right. I was just kidding. Don’t leave.” He can hear the fear engulfing your voice in your plea.

“No, no, it’s okay. I was just joking. I���ll stay as long as you need.” He didn’t mean to trigger your panic again, especially since he had just gotten you to calm down a bit.

“You might be here a while then, it doesn’t seem to want to let up anytime soon.”

“No worries. Let me just get off my knees. I won’t be able to walk tomorrow if I spend all night bent like this.” He makes to switch to sitting on the floor but you stop him.

“Do you… uhm, want to lay on the bed? There’s more than enough room for two. I’m not like Rose, that bitch.”

“Are you sure? I can sit here, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” You’d known each other barely 12 hours. He didn’t want to appear pushy in your vulnerable state. He’s enough of a gentleman to know to make space for the women in his life to ease themselves into his presence in a manner where they feel safe.

“Don’t worry. Yoongi told me enough about you for me to know you’re the least scary man on this planet. Only way you’d hurt me is if you fell on top of me, which I’ve been warned may happen more than I expect so be careful climbing in.” He feels you scooch over to the other side of the bed, leaving a wide open space for him to settle into.

There’s still some hesitation that weighs heavily in his limbs but when he sees how your body jumps when another bolt touches down and illuminates the room his resistance melts away. His movements are slow as he eases himself onto the mattress.

“Do you have enough space?” you ask.

If he’s being honest he’s certain half his body is teetering off the edge but he’s more concerned about overcrowding you. “I’m fine, don’t worry. You should try to sleep, you had a long day.”

You’re answering with a half hearted mumble and the room is overtaken with the battering of rain on the windows. Namjoon stays alert, hoping to feel your breathing even out to indicate that sleep has claimed you but it never comes.

“Are you still awake?” Your voice is barely a whisper and if he wasn’t specifically keeping an ear out, he would’ve missed it completely.

He turns onto his side, body now settled fully onto the bed with no risk of suddenly tumbling out with a wrong move. “Yeah, what’s up?”

“Can we just talk for a bit? I think that’ll help me calm down.”

“Of course, as long as you don’t insult my little crustacean friends again.”

“Were you one of those kids that would do that shark chant? ‘Fish are friends, not food.’”

“Nah, Pixar and Bruce are wrong for that. Fish are food, crabs are friends.”

“You’ll have to give me a history lesson as to why kiddie Joonie came to that conclusion if Nemo wasn’t the inspiration.” There it is again, Joonie. Namjoon huffs out a little chuckle at hearing it, letting the nickname slip under it.

“Oh,” you gasp. “I’m so sorry, I should have asked before calling you that. Do you not like it? I’ll stick to your name. Or should I be using honorifics, oppa?”

Oh, he’ll have to unpack how his stomach flips with that last part but now isn’t the time for sudden self discoveries.

“No, no! Don’t worry, it’s cute. I just wasn’t expecting it. My friends usually stick to just Joon but you can get special roomie privileges.”

“I fear you’ll one day regret that. I’m going to be so annoying from now on.” He can hear how your words are blanketed in a mischievous teasing, and he believes you but won’t admit defeat that easily.

“You’ll have to give Tae a run for his money. If he pairs up with Jimin then they’re insufferable. Hobi is a saint for having them both under the same roof with him. You don’t know the guys yet but you’ll figure it out soon enough.”

It’s easy to imagine you already melding into his little group of misfits. He thinks back to dinner when you’d teased him about listening to that ‘girly’ song, and he knows he’ll soon be babysitting four wiley dongsaengs instead of three. Sometimes five when Jungkook manages to set Seokjin off. He doesn’t realize the smile that sets itself on his lips and it’s too dark for you to comment on it.

The bed shifts and your voice is suddenly closer, indicating you’d mirrored his movements and were now facing him.

“You talk about them a lot, your friends. Yoongi does too. You must all be really close.”

“We are, like brothers honestly. I have a younger sister but meeting Yoongi was the first time I felt like I had a hyung. He’s not much for declarations of affection but I love that dude.”

“He knows. You guys are all he talks about besides his music. He loves you, too. I can tell.” Namjoon never doubted that but it’s always nice to hear.

“What about you? Do you have any siblings?” It should be an innocent question but the silence that follows feels heavy and loaded.

“I did. My little brother. He was five. He spiked a bad fever one night and had to be rushed to the hospital. My father packed him up in the middle of the night while I slept. My mother woke me up at 4 am in hysterics. We drove to the emergency room and I watched my parents fall to the floor from across the room as the doctor told them he didn’t make it. I couldn’t hear what they said from that far away but it was obvious. I’m haunted by the sounds of the storm that was raging outside as the windows shaked around me. Acute bacterial meningitis.”

“Fuck, Y/N. I’m-”

“Don’t,” you interrupt. “Don’t say you’re sorry. You have no idea how many times I’ve heard that. It doesn’t bring him back, nothing will. I’m just left with distant memories of what his laugh sounded like, and this stupid fear of storms that just reminds me of the day my family broke apart.” Your words are being spit vehemently, your throat clearly closing up as it tries to choke back sobs.

Namjoon’s arms reach out to scoop you into his chest where you lose it in earnest. You hide into the crook of his neck as he can feel your resolve break. Tears hit his skin but he says nothing. There is nothing to say, he knows. You need something to hold onto as you let the emotions run their course and that’s something he can be for you.

It’s not too long before you catch your breath, great big gasps helping your body to settle back into rhythm.

“God, I’m so sorry. Having a breakdown because of some rain, trauma dumping, having a full breakdown. I must be making a great first impression as a new roommate.”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re able to let it out. Bottling all that up would cause more damage.”

“Who knew I was shacking up with a therapist. It’s the same thing my counselor told me.” You’re back to teasing and Namjoon lets out the tension in his muscles that he didn’t realize he was holding. Your giggles fade off into a comfortable silence. The rain is still loud against the glass but the trembling that shook yo uhas subsided.

“‘Joonie? Can you hold me until I fall asleep?” Your voice is shy, the request bold for someone you barely know but he agrees without apprehension.

He expects you to burrow back into his chest as you’re already nestled in from your impromptu need for comfort but you surprise him by turning around and slotting yourself against him, back pushing into his front.

“Need to sleep on my left side. You don’t mind, do you?” After your revelation, he’d give you the moon if you asked, some spooning was an easy favor to fulfill.

He simply hums in agreement not entirely trusting himself not to put his foot in his mouth at that moment. He allows you to push back until you’re comfortable and slings his arm over your waist, letting his hand hang limp over your abdomen, careful not to push any unspoken boundaries.

You take it upon yourself to scoop his arm up and hold it close to you. Namjoon closes his fingers into a fist to avoid any accidental groping since his hand now rests on your chest, just above your breasts. He can feel the curve of them against his wrist, the mounds pressing into his forearm.

No! He needs to send his mind elsewhere. He tries to focus on the patter of the drops on the window. Pit pat. Would a roll of thunder fit into any of the songs he’s currently working on? What about the clap where the beat could drop? Anything to distract him from how warm you are beside him. The humidity of the storm only aggravates the heat that seeps through his skin, making it clammy and nearly wet. You, wet against him… NO! The heat is pooling at his crotch, the pressure rising when his blood is sent southward to fill a chub in his boxers. No, stop!

He’s trying desperately to inch his pelvis away from where your ass was resting against him. The universe is truly out for his demise because another round of lightning and thunder sends you jumping, forcefully seeking the hardness of his body against you. The grip on his arm turns vicious, your nails digging into his skin and your rear flies backwards in search of a seat and finds an unexpected obstacle.

Namjoon isn’t sure which sound rings louder. The gasp you let out at your discovery or his moan as his hips involuntarily thrust up against your ass. He doesn’t dare even breathe. What were you thinking? That your new roommate was a giant pervert? That he was taking advantage of the situation when all you asked for was some comfort in a time of need? Would you tell Yoongi? His hyung might be smaller than him but he has no doubt the older man could and would beat his ass into next week for this.

He seems to be the only one spiraling into a panic because instead of screaming and shoving him out of bed you only push back again. Your movements are tentative, slowly adding pressure and grinding your ass in circles against him as if trying to memorize the shape of him against your cheeks.

He slips his arm out of your grasp to bring his hand against your hip, pushing it down to pin you into the mattress and stop the maddening teasing.

“Y/N...” His voice comes out rough in between his teeth, a clear warning.

“Are you-?” You don’t need to finish your sentence with words, opting instead to push against his hold and roll your hips backwards again to feel the length behind you.

“I definitely am now since you can’t lie still. I’m trying to comfort you right now, so I am asking very politely to please have some mercy on me and go to sleep.”

For a second, Namjoon thinks he may have been too harsh.You’re quiet against him and he hopes he hasn’t triggered another round of distress with his tone.

The worries ebb when he feels your hand sneak behind to cup where his dick pushing against the fabric of his underwear. His eyes close when the pressure against the head sends little jolts of electricity flying through his body, a loud moan accompanying them.

“What if this is the comfort I need right now? Will you give it to me?” There’s a confidence in your voice now that had been missing when the sun went down. Namjoon is glad to hear it even if it beckons his doom.

He tries his best not to move, simply letting you tease along his length, your fingers wrapped around his cock through the thin fabric barrier. The drag is dry and nearly painful but he still twitches and wets a patch when your hand comes to squeeze at the head at every stroke.

You seem to take the lack of fighting back on his part as encouragement, and you push at the waistband to finally get under his boxers and meet the feverish skin hiding under them. He helps you reach your goal by shimmying the fabric down and under his balls, freeing his cock to let you handle it as you wish.

Your hand disappears for a second only to come back wet with spit and making the first tug of skin on skin both tortuous and heavenly. He can’t help but meet your fist with a thrust, precum dripping into your hand and easing the next strokes.

You’re showing your impatience when you grab his hand from your hip to aim it towards the waistband of your own underwear. You let him figure out the rest and go back to focus on jerking him off, a little harder this time as your hips roll against thin air.

He doesn’t keep you waiting too long, slipping his hand into your panties, realizing you’ve also opted out of sleeping with bottoms. His fingers plunge low and he’s surprised at how wet you are.

“All this just from rubbing against my dick a little bit?”

“No, I’ve been wet since you pulled me into your arms. Stupid thick biceps and big tits. Figured you’d notice it wasn’t just my eyes that were leaking.” Your words come staccato while your hips desperately try to chase his fingers.

He gives you what you seek and dips his middle finger into your heat. Your muscles contract around him, hot and so wet.

“Fuck, more,” you beg. You’re doing your best to clench around him but there’s not enough to bring relief.

“Impatient.” He wants this to last. He’s barely just gotten his hands on you after all the tension of the day finally snapping. He wants to savor it but you seem to have other plans.

“Namjoon, if you don’t start fingering me properly I’ll kick you out of this bed and do it myself.”

In any other situation he’d probably call that bluff, but he doesn’t want to risk you going through with it. He adds a second finger to your core and gets to work on a punishing rhythm. He uses the angle to his advantage and digs the heel of his palm against your clit to grind onto it with every thrust of his hand.

Your threats devolve into mewls. You’re trying to keep up your own pace against his dick but your grasp is loosening and losing rhythm. Hedoesn’t care. It allows him to focus on making you lose your mind, but you don’t seem to agree with the imbalance because you’re tugging him closer to you, tip bumping into the cotton of your panties. The need overtakes you and you’re ripping his fingers out of your pussy, letting it clench around nothing and mourning the loss. Your legs clamp shut to allow you to reach around and pull the fabric away from your entrance. You push back against his cock, trying to guide him through the darkness.

“In. Want you inside.” Your words aren’t quite begging but Namjoon can hear the plea clearlyin your voice.

“Fuck, Y/N. I should stretch you out more. I don’t think you should take it like this.” He knows he’s above average and he’s unsure that between the darkness and your horny haze you've realized quite what you’re up against in the short span of the mutual masturbation session that’s happened.

“I felt it. I know you’ve got a big dick. I don’t care. Fuck. Me.”

He hesitates to argue with you. He doesn’t want to hurt you but he can feel the warm wet heat enticing the head of his cock and it’s hard to ignore the call. He loses his battle and sinks himself into you. He brings his hand back to your hip and holds himself still as you shake through acclimating to his size.

“Oh god, fuck.” He can feel your pussy tightening around him, the pulses of your walls essentially jerking him off and it’s taking all his resistance not to start rocking his hips up to meet your ass.

“I-” He’s cut off as soon as he tries to start.

“You better not say ‘I told you so’ while you’re inside me or else you’ll never be again.” The possibility of this happening again shut him up pretty quickly.

He opts to try and ease you into the feeling, lets his hand trace along your skin, up to your torso. He peppers kisses down your neck and onto your shoulder. His hand seeks out a breast under your shirt and gently takes it into his palm, massaging the flesh as his fingers tweak at the nipple.

He tries to imagine what it must look like pebbled between his thumb and index; the color of them in contrast to your skin. He’s overwhelmed with the urge to slip it between his teeth and test how hard he could nibble at it before you broke, but the current position makes it impossible and he doesn’t dare switch it now.

Your breathing becomes heavier at every pinch and twist. He can feel your chest heaving under his hand and you’re melting against him. The chokehold your pussy has on his cock also lets up a little, allowing you to rock back and forth seeking more friction.

“I’m ready.” Your voice calls him back. “You can move. Fuck me.” He starts slow and careful, long languid strokes out until only the head stays inside you, and back in with a smooth confident thrust; letting as much of his length fit as he can from this angle.

He lets his hand wander once he feels you matching his strokes, backing up to meet him at each push in. Your skin is damp under his palm and the sticky feeling would usually bother him, but he’s too enthralled by the little noises that you make with each movement.

Your hand chases after his, following where he cups at your breast, pinches at your nipple, and he notes the hitch in your breath when his large palm settles loosely at the base of your throat. He’ll have to file that one away for another day.

You eventually seem to grow frustrated with his teasing touches because you drag his hand back south and into your underwear. He spreads his fingers around where the two of you are joined. He can feel your arousal coat his cock and your pussy stretch around him, sucking him in at every stroke.

He brings his fingers up to finally give your neglected clit the attention it’s been craving. You can feel how it’s throbbing with desire. You don’t bother trying to suppress the moan that comes out in nearly a scream when Namjoon presses against your bundle of nerves with skillful pressure and maddening circles.

It’s still slow. Everything is infuriatingly slow but you can’t find your voice through the groans and gasps to ask for more, so you let him set his torturous pace and drown in the electricity coursing through your body.

You take up the mantle that he’d been forced to leave behind. You feel too good to ask to change positions but you mourn the lack of his other hand which is forced under him, unable to wreck the same havoc on your body as its twin. Your right hand travels to your torso, attempting to mimic his earlier teasing while your left holds onto his wrist between your legs to keep yourself grounded.

You melt into his touch, head lolling into the pillow. Namjoon takes advantage of your neck opening up. He finally gets to use his right arm to push his upper body enough to dip his head down where your shoulder meets your neck to attach his lips to your skin. The added feeling of his teeth biting down, paired with a hard suck and lick of his tongue sends you reeling. You push back harder, urging him to thrust in rougher, as deep as the position allows.

“So big, Joonie. Can feel you so deep.” You’re pushing his buttons and it works. You’re riling him up and he lets it happen. You sacrifice the feeling of his fingers on your clit to bring them up just above your pubic bone and push down hard making the head of his dick hit against the front of your walls. You know he can feel it push against his hand every time he hits home.

You know when he registered what’s happening because he’s pistoning into you with renewed vigor, each thrust stronger than the one before. The new pressure from his hand makes everything feel euphoric.

“Shit, Y/N. So fucking tight around me. You feel so good, sweetheart.” The praise falls from his lips without thought and the endearment slips through with ease but there’s no time to focus on it. You’re clenching around him, being brought to the edge.

Your hand replaces where his had been, fingers wild and frantic on your clit, pushing you towards your orgasm. It doesn’t take long to hit and your body goes rigid in his arms. Your muscles scream as they twitch and the wave radiates out from your core and washes over you to the tips of your limbs.

The shaking in your body subsides but the throes of pleasure still buzz under your skin from where Namjoon hasn’t slowed. He continues to push and pull his way into your body, keeping the tension alive.

“You sound so fucking hot when you cum. Feel so perfect around my cock.” No words come in reply to his, only mindless moans answer the praise. You want to tell him how good he feels inside you too, how you still need him so desperately.

“More!” You manage to gulp through the overwhelming feeling surrounding you. “Want to feel you deeper.”

His hips stutter in response, your words hit him in the pit of his stomach. He wants to give you more, whatever you want but he can’t go any further from this angle.

“Gonna have to move us around for that, okay?” His voice is muffled from where his mouth is still dug into the crook of your neck, breath heavy near your ear.

You’re nodding without giving it much thought. Whatever he wants, he can do anything he wants. You’d agree to anything if it meant getting more of the addictive feeling coursing through your veins.

His cock slips out of you and you barely have the time to whine at the loss that a yelp escapes you instead as you’re hauled up and around to land firmly on his lap, underwear being ripped away in the switch, Namjoon now spread beneath you. Your hands fly forward to balance yourself, knees planted on either side of his hips.

“Holy hell, I was kidding earlier with the tits comment but…” You let your hands finish the implication as they grab at the flesh of his chest, nails digging into his skin. “Can you flex for a second?”

His muscles tense under your touch and you can’t help the groan that slips out in response. His chest is rock hard now and you feel your body rise with the strength imbued in it. You let your hands drift downwards, nails dragging behind. You wonder if the marks will still be there tomorrow for you to see the damage you're leaving in the light of day.

You can feel each bump on his abdomen where the muscles bulge out and dip back in. You’re surprised to feel the smooth velvet tip of his cock hit your hand so quickly. You’re barely halfway down his abs and the realization of how big Namjoon actually is sinks in.

The previous position wouldn’t have had him remotely close to fully sheathed inside you. The anticipation of really feeling his entire length has you grinding down and sliding along him, trapping him between his stomach and your sopping folds.

He bucks up to meet the pressure, hands holding firm on your waist, following the pace you’ve set. He lets you roll on him, his sensitive head catching on your clit and every loop which elicits moans from both of you.

He’s sure he could cum from this alone, but he’s aching to feel you sink down on him entirely. There’s a desperate plea on the tip of his tongue, an encouragement for you to lead him back inside but he keeps quiet. He wants you to make the decision and go at the pace you need. Despite the shift in situation, Namjoon still feels the vulnerability you’re under.

His hand drifts up, letting fire spread along your skin. The electricity in the air isn’t only from the storm anymore. He’s gentle as he cups your breast, content when he can feel your chest arching forward to chase after the pressure of his touch. Your nipple pebbles despite the hot and humid air.

“Perfect,” he murmurs under his breath. He’s sure it’s low enough to stay a private confession but the low moans mixed with your thighs tightening against his hips reveal otherwise.

The praise urges you on, reigniting your movements. Namjoon almost fears you’re moving away, off from your seat on top of him. His hands are quick to reach back for yours; a silent imploration to stay but they’re unnecessary. The pressure on his chest where you anchor yourself grounds him. There’s a shake where your balance falters so you can reach beneath you and grab at his cock, holding it straight towards your core.

The darkness hadn’t bothered Namjoon until this moment. He’ll rue this day for his entire life for stealing the vision of your expression as you slowly sink down on his entire length for the first time. The whimpers that escape, as you take each inch further, are only teases compared to the satisfied groan that comes once you’re fully settled back in his lap. The entire situation is torture. The heat of the stifling summer night is nothing compared to the scorching embrace of your walls around him. There’s aftershocks of your muscles spazzing around him that pair with more moans while you acclimate to the feeling of him inside you.

Namjoon’s mouth is dry and his brain is empty. There’s a strong instinct to move, a twitch in his arms to use his strength to lift you up enough to have you slam back down but he resists.

He can hear your breathing even out, big gulps of air diminishing to a more normal rhythm. You’re fidgeting, torso lowering to come parallel to his until your breath hits his throat. He doesn’t even realize your hand had snaked away until it lands in his hair and you pull on the strands to allow your lips to stroke at the cartilage of his ear, a warm tickle accompanying your words.

“You’re so big, Joonie. Feel so full.” He knows it’s the sign he was waiting for when you end the compliment with a strong squeeze that he can feel through his entire body. All the restraint he had exhibited snaps.

It all happens at once. He reaches for a fistful of your hair to keep you still as he clumsily seeks for your lips with his own. The kiss is aggressive and too full of teeth clanking together at first. It eventually melts into something more salacious. Your lips are hot and slippery but Namjoon is aiming for more.

You’re too distracted to notice that his stance has changed. He jostles you as he plants his feet into your mattress to give him the best angle to properly pound into you. The first hard thrust is paired with a well timed bite of your lip which has you opening your mouth with a shout of pleasure. He takes advantage of the position to delve his tongue into a battle with yours, turning the dirty kiss into an even wetter mess.

Neither of you can hear the storm over the slaps of skin, low groans, and high whines from inside the room. “You hear how wet this pussy is for me? Sound so fucking pretty, bet it looks even better. We’ll have to do this again, right? So I can see you leaking over my cock properly.”

If you’re answering him it’s unintelligible in the mumbles melted into the moans that continue to spill out of you. He’s taking it as an agreement from the tightening of your core around him.

His legs eventually lower behind you, pushing you to straighten back up and work to keep up the faltering rhythm. The heat and late hour seeps into your bones but the exhaustion that lies at the edge of your consciousness is no match for the fire in your veins that feeds the lust inside you. Your hands reach behind you and grab onto meaty thighs. God, you’ll need to talk about those in the morning because you don’t have the energy to trigger another round tonight. Your head falls, back arching towards the sky. It gives Namjoon the opportunity to roam your body, soft strokes and harsh grasps.

“Come on, Joonie. What good are those big biceps for if you can’t fuck me harder?” The taunt works like magic to reinvigorate him. Large hands come back to your waist, palms digging hard into your body above your hip bones. His thumbs aim towards your core, pushing into the softness above your pelvis. It’s not as obvious as the first position on your side but he can definitely feel the shift under your skin where the pressure of his thrusting cock pushes against his fingers.

“Shit, Y/N, never felt pussy this good. My perfect girl. Are you close? Can you cum for me, baby?”

“Y-yeah, so close- fuck. You feel so good.” It wasn’t a lie, you’ve teetered on the edge for a while but you just needed a little extra push. Namjoon’s hold on you is strong enough to allow you to sneak a hand to where the two of you are joined. There’s only a flash of pleasure before your fingers are slapped away.

“Nuh uh, my job. If you want to be touched a certain way just ask for it. You’re a big girl, use your words.”

If he kept talking to you like that maybe you wouldn’t need the extra help after all but that’s an experiment for another day. “Please, Joonie, want to cum. Touch me.”

He dares to slow the pace, still upkeep the long hard strokes that hit deep inside you. “Is that the best you can do? You’re about to cum all over my cock and I’m still just Joonie? You’re not being very clear, you know. I’ve got my hands on you, I’m already touching. Be more precise. What do you want, princess?”

He’ll be the death of you, you can already tell you’ve set yourself up. Your words are coming out in choked sobs, your climax on the brink. “Please!” you exclaim, “Namjoon, please play with my clit and make me cum all over your big cock.”

He didn’t expect you to take the bait so strongly, but you asked so politely, who would he be to deny your request.

“Good girl. I’ll give you anything you ask for if you do it like that. Look all innocent but you’re just a desperate little thing, aren’t you?” His words are paired with increased speed. He pistons into you with such force that you swear you’re floating above him. The world falls away when his thumb finally comes to rub tantalizing circles around your nub, the movement a little clumsy form how wet it is between your thighs.

It doesn’t take much to reach elation. White light explodes behind your eyes making you believe the power may have returned for a second. There’s electricity living in your nerves that travel down your limbs. There’s a rawness in your throat you assume was birthed from the scream that still echoes around the room.

You catch your breath on a pile of loose limbs draped over your new roommate’s huge frame. Your muscles are spasming from the outside in. You can tell that Namjoon definitely feel it from how tense his muscles feel under your fingers. You purposefully constrict around him and the answering grunt confirms your suspicions.

It takes a second to gather enough strength to sit back up while keeping him snuggly inside you. You wish you could look into his eyes as you roll your hips over him. You know it’s not as stimulating as the hard thrusts from earlier but the sweet sounds you hear from under you seem to have him perfectly content.

“Fuck, you never stop surprising me but you really need to get off because I can’t last anymore.” There’s a tension in his tone, one that you’d hear from someone holding onto a loosening grip that could result in falling to their doom.

You let the nail from your index dig into his skin and leave a burning sensation behind as your scratch down the valley of his pecs, from his clavicle to his abdominals. “Good. Then my plan is working. Your turn to cum for me.”

“Oh, I will. The second you get off me, it’s torture to keep it in, so please-” It’s his turn to beg but you’re not as ready to give in to his demand this time around. You only double your efforts, rolling hips and tight squeezes.

“Go on, then. You wanted me to ask for what I want? Cum. I’m safe and I want you to cum inside me, Namjoon.”

There’s black magic in the way you say his name, it’s hypnotizing. Or maybe it’s the imaginary visual of what you’d look like splayed out with his cum seeping out of you that does it.

He brings his fingers back to your sensitive clit and the pressure is almost too much. You nearly beg him to give you a break but he interrupts you before you can start. “One more time, with me. If you want me to fill up that sweet pussy, you’ll have to milk it out of me.”

You can’t tell whether it’s the pressure on your clit or the dirty words from his mouth, but the wave of pleasure comes back with a mighty force and crashes through you again. You can feel your core tightening around him in spasms which triggers his own release. You can feel his cock spurting inside you, an extra layer of warmth seeping into you. You can’t hold yourself anymore and flop onto Namjoon, both of your breaths heavy and labored.

His hand strokes comfort onto your back. You don’t even mind how sweaty you both are, sticking to each other. “We should get cleaned up,” he suggests.

You dig your face into the crook of his neck in protest. “No. Tomorrow. Don’t want to move. You still feel good, don’t want you to pull out.” You purposefully twitch to make your point. His cock may be softening but it’s still firmly plugging you up. You both know you’ll regret it in the morning but you couldn’t care right now.

The exhaustion you both feel settles into contentment as sleep pulls you in. You both fall asleep without even noticing that the storm has also fallen into slumber.

Okay, so maybe Namjoon was a little dramatic about being abandoned because it’s only a week later when Yoongi is back in his old apartment from a weekend brunch date with his friends.

You and Jin are bonding in the kitchen. Yoongi can hear his boyfriend’s windshield wiper laugh mixed with your giggles that he’s always compared to a hyena. He expected the atmosphere to be a little awkward when he came in, both of the new roommates a little shy and fond of individual activities.

But when he let himself in earlier he found both his friends sharing the couch in the living room, each with a book in hand,which wasn’t surprising, but your feet perched on Namjoon’s lap, that was a little surprising.

He had let that slide easily enough. His suspicion returns simply from how much smiling Namjoon has been doing. Smiles wouldn’t be odd for most but Yoongi has heard that man’s music lately and he’s the definition of a Sad Boi™.

The pieces fall into place when you bring in the plates and there’s lingering. From your fingers on Namjoon’s when you exchange the dish to his eyes on your ass when you turn away. Yoongi stares Namjoon down, deadpan. His friend’s eyes widen in panic once he realizes he’s been caught. Yoongi’s always been able to read him like a book.

“You motherfucker,” Yoongi spats at him just as you reenter the room.

“Now now, Yoongles. Do we need to call Dr. Lee to go through your mommy issues again? We’ve already established I’m not your mother.” You take a seat on Namjoon’s lap as if to make a point. “Besides, there’s only one person that gets to call me mommy now.” The look you and Namjoon share might be the final drop that makes him go dig for his old psych’s number that night.

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