#kim namjoon angst

[oddinary4bts]

Emotions of the Soul | knj

☆summary: when Namjoon reappears in your life after thirteen years of absence, you find yourself unsure of what he means to you, and of what you mean to him. Anxiety reigns over you, but will it be enough to drag you away from Kim Namjoon?

☆pairing: Kim Namjoon x artist female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: childhood/teenage lovers to strangers to lovers, idol!au, smut, angst, fluff

☆warnings: alcohol, anxiety, a reference to the reader in Now We Reign if you guys can catch it, cursing, stupid teenage threats of m*rder, an appearance from the reader in Forever, pet names, paparazzi, imposter syndrome, an ugly teenage breakup flashback, explicit content: mentions of blindfolding, switch!Namjoon, big dick!Namjoon, switch!reader, oral sex (male and female receiving), jerking off, dirty talking?, balls fondling, face riding, breast play, fingering, protected sex, praise, hair pulling (ish), ass slapping, tummy bulge (? lmao), choking, cumshot, cum eating, unprotected sex, he calls OC a slut once or twice I think

☆word count: 36.3k

☆a/n: Oof I don't know why but writing this was so so hard?? I'm happy I finally managed to finish it tho! It delves into the subject of anxiety and its effects on people, so it's a little heavy, but I hope you'll still enjoy it <3 As always, thank you to @moonleeai​ for her incredible work as my beta reader! You’re the best <3

☆Read the other installments in the Life Goes On series here!

☆☆☆☆☆

The music in the gallery was loud. It probably fitted a club better than an art exhibit, the upbeat melody having more than one person dancing and nodding their head to it. The atmosphere was warm, stuffy, even though the front doors had been left open in the hopes of getting the fresh November air in. It failed majestically, and you were sweating in your too-tight dress by the refreshment table in a corner, watching over the crowd.

You had never seen so many people in your gallery before. Had never thought your art would attract that amount of people, but it seemed the art enthusiasts of Seoul had flocked to your gallery tonight, looking to experience the art of a new talent firsthand.

At least that was what the journalists were saying, even though you had been an artist since you were a middle schooler. Fingers always stained with ink, teachers scolding you for never paying attention…

Middle school had seen your love for art blossom the way azaleas blossom after a long winter. With bright petals, vivid with life, though your art had first been the colour of the darkest nights. It had taken you years before you had incorporated colours into it, and now you were proud to see the myriad of shades painted on your pieces.

You sighed, and you reckoned maybe the mask you were wearing was the reason why you felt so stuffy. But you weren’t going to risk being recognized – no, you liked enjoying your exhibits in the anonymity of an art enthusiast. Rare were those who knew who the artist actually was, and you felt like it was the best way to have actual feedback on your art.

No one coated their words with sugar when they spoke with just another art enthusiast. So tonight, you wore the mask of the artist, the one people knew you for. It preserved your identity but also allowed people to know who the artist was when they had to. Like tonight, considering that it was the opening of your newest exhibit, The Colours of Fall.

You ordered a glass of apple-flavoured soju mixed with beer, bowing your head in thanks at the employee behind the table when they offered it to you. When you turned back around, your eyes trailed to the wall of windows on one side of the room. Though some pieces were hung there, with spotlights behind the windows to create shadows into the pieces, you still were able to see the black Sedan that was parking outside.

Paparazzi outside started flashing their cameras as someone walked out, and all you could see from where you were was a mop of black hair. More than one celebrity was in attendance tonight, so you didn’t pay attention to the person arriving more than necessary, instead focusing on the exhibit once more.

It was going well. Far better than you had first imagined it would. You had already sold numerous pieces, and your brain was running a mile a minute with ideas of what you could replace them with.

Your mask only hid the top part of your face, so you easily took a sip of your drink, inadvertently bobbing your head to the music. It was good music, it really was, but you couldn’t wait for the actual playlist you had chosen to begin.

Which wasn’t going to be for a whole other hour, unfortunately. After you said your speech and the lights turned to red, orange, and the rich yellow of autumn leaves.

Your manager moved closer to you, and she offered you a wide smile. You nodded your head and watched as she ordered the same drink as you, before standing next to you.

“The celebrity scene is going crazy over your exhibit,” Na Sooah said. “Most of those invited showed up.”

“I still can’t believe you invited the whole celebrity scene,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully. “Most of them know nothing about art.”

Sooah laughed. “Not all of them! Kim Namjoon just arrived.”

Your throat went dry, and the hand clutching your glass tightened at the mention of Namjoon’s name. Kim Namjoon. Your childhood friend Kim Namjoon. Your first kiss, your first time… and a member of the most famous boy group in the world. More than that, Namjoon was a fellow art enthusiast.

Namjoon’s love for art started at the same time as yours. He had been enthralled by your drawings, believing that you had a gift that needed to be nurtured and protected. Like his love for music, though his comparisons most often made no sense. To you, that is.

Namjoon had been your first heartbreak, back when every emotion felt deeper than the ocean, when anger, pain, and sadness ran longer than eternity. Back when he hadn’t even joined Big Hit yet.

“Kim Namjoon,” you repeated, tasting his name in your mouth for the first time since that ugly October night when you had told him you hated him more than anything in this world, and he had left without even a single look back.

You had never spoken after that. You had never talked about him anymore either, not to your friends or family. And when you had begged your parents to change school, they had caved in, letting you attend the same school as your cousin Miyoung.

Miyoung had been your closest friend since then, until Sooah had come into your life to form a trio with you and your cousin when you had attended college in arts.

“Yeah, he’s created quite a commotion outside,” Sooah commented, and you remembered the mop of black hair.

Could that have been Namjoon?

“And when he RSVP’ed, he mentioned that he would like to have a talk with the artist, so I hope you’re ready,” Sooah added, teasingly.

You glared at her through your mask. “You couldn’t have told me before?”

“No.”

You rolled your eyes once more, not so playfully this time, taking another sip of your drink. “He’s Kim Namjoon, you could have let a girl prepare.”

At that, Sooah laughed out loud. “Got a little crush?”

“Quite the opposite,” you said through gritted teeth.

You hated Kim Namjoon.

You noticed him then. He was dressed simply, yet it was elegant, somehow. Or maybe it was the way he carried himself, with his large and tall frame, that made him elegant. Because you doubted a pair of jeans with a gray cardigan over a light blue polo was supposed to be this elegant. His long coat matched the colour of his cardigan almost to perfection, and he flashed dimples to the employee at the coat check as he took off the coat, revealing more of his large frame.

Needless to say, Kim Namjoon didn’t look like he could rip a log in two with his bare hands back when you had first known him. No, he had been a thin, gangly teen, with arms that seemed too long for his frame.

When he was rid of his coat, he moved to the side to let the man behind him give his coat away, and then the two of them started walking together.

You had no idea who the other man was, but from the looks of it, he was a friend, as Namjoon laughed along with him.

One of your hands moved to your face, gently grazing your mask to make sure it was still well-fitted. It was like one of those masks people wore at the Venice carnival. It matched the theme of your exhibit, with autumn leaves craftily molded into it. It was a piece of art in and of itself, like all the masks you wore as an artist.

He wouldn’t recognize you. You were positive he wasn’t going to be able to recognize you with just the lower part of your face on display, especially after so many years apart. Your voice had changed to – matured, aged, like your features, quite honestly.

After all, the last time Kim Namjoon had seen you, you had been a crying, yelling, angsty fifteen-year-old.

Sooah left you to a couple that was looking to buy one of the backlit art pieces, and you explained to them the process behind the creation of the art they had chosen, eyes once in a while flitting around to make sure Kim Namjoon wasn’t in your vicinity yet.

He wasn’t. He was perusing around the gallery, stopping to talk to other celebrities once in a while, and so far, you weren’t even sure he had looked your way. Which was a good thing, because that meant maybe you’d make it to your speech before he actually tried talking to you.

You could leave immediately after your speech, right?

“And what about the subject of autumn interested you so much?” the older man in front of you asked.

You blinked out of your reverie, offering him a practiced, easy smile. “If you had to choose, would you want to witness the beginning or the end?” you asked.

It was the catchphrase of your speech. Though people could argue that the year ended and began in the winter months, you had always seen a finality in the months of fall and had portrayed it in your art.

The man seemed taken aback by your question. He cocked his head to the side, before glancing at his wife. “The end carries weight,” the wife said pensively. “It carries age and wisdom.”

You offered her a polite nod. “Exactly. I find beauty in the end and chose to portray it with the months of autumn. When life seems to come to its end.”

“Fall is beautiful,” the man agreed. “But wouldn’t you argue the start holds more beauty? With all the possibilities that it carries.”

“A different kind of beauty. Which, maybe it’s going to inspire my next exhibit,” you teased, secretively, and the couple laughed.

You talked to them a little more, and it seemed life had salvation to offer you because Sooah was the one that came to you first, and not Kim Namjoon. You said goodbye to the couple, before following your manager to the spot where you were to say your speech. As usual, nerves wracked your whole body at the sight of the standing mic, and you had to resist not to bring your thumb to your mouth to nibble on the nail. It was a habit you had gotten rid of only recently, and you really didn’t want it to come back.

Especially not in front of a crowd such as this one, in which you knew Kim Namjoon was standing.

Sooah stopped in the crowd, pushing you forward gently, inciting you to walk the rest of the way yourself. Your heart beat out of your chest as if it was about to escape your ribcage, and you took a deep steadying breath before moving out of the crowd.

The music stopped, and the lights immediately dimmed, until all that was left was a single spotlight, which shone on you as you stopped next to the mic. Back turned to the crowd, eyes skimming over the biggest piece of your exhibit. Ilsan lay before you, draped in the colours of autumn.

You breathed in and out one last time, and then you turned, stepping in front of the mic.

“If you could choose,” you started, voice steadier than you expected it’d be. “Would you choose the end or the beginning?”

The couple you had been speaking to smiled wildly at your sentence, and you let the silence linger long enough for people to whisper their own answer. Music started with low traditional instruments replacing the upbeat melody from earlier.

“There is a form of beauty in the end. In knowing you’ve seen it all, and that rest is at your door,” you continued. “There’s beauty in looking back, in wisdom, and in the Colours of Autumn.” You paused, looking over the crowd. You noticed Namjoon standing at the back, listening politely. “My exhibition carries this: the end of the year, of the cycle of nature. The beauty of fall, of leaves and October nights and November rains.” You wondered if people could tell that your hand was slightly trembling, where it held the mic. “When the wind catches and leaves blow, it is time to look back. So tonight, I want you all to take a step back, to look back on your lives and ask yourselves, ‘Have I found the wisdom of The Colours of Autumn?’”

The spotlight turned off, and you walked away from the mic to the crowd. When you turned back to look at the piece of Ilsan, a projector came to life and the story you had prepared started.

You tuned it out: you had seen the shadow and light projections so many times already they had lost all sense to you. It often happened – if you stared at your art for too long, it lost all its meaning. So you usually didn’t look back on a piece right away. You waited for the end, for the concretization that came with your exhibits, and only then did you look back.

Except the lights and shadows. You had watched those fifteen times yesterday only to make sure that everything was perfect. And you were quite the perfectionist, you knew that they were.

While everyone was watching, you slowly made your way to the back of the crowd. You surprisingly still had your drink in your hands, and you took a careful sip as you finally slipped out of the big of the crowd. The drink was flat now, and you tried to head towards the refreshment table in order to rid yourself of it.

It seemed your calculations had been wrong, because Kim Namjoon stood in front of you, in all his tall glory.

All his infuriating glory, as dimples graced his cheeks at the sight of you. They stopped you in your tracks, and you gazed up at him, eyes connecting even through the dim lighting. His friend was standing next to him, and your eyes flitted to him once before looking at Namjoon again.

Namjoon nodded his head, politely, before taking a sip of the beer he was holding. You nodded back, and then you resumed moving, thoughts spiraling like leaves in the fall wind. You made it all the way to the small door that led to the stairs to your studio before you were stopped by a large hand on your elbow.

You knew who it was without having to turn around, and you would have cursed him for not watching the show had applauds not sounded, indicating that it was over anyway.

“Hi,” Namjoon politely said when you were finally facing his way. His hand had long returned to the pocket of his jeans, and he looked infinitely nonchalant, standing there in front of you. “Sorry for the intrusion, but your manager told me to be quick to speak to you at the end if I didn’t want to miss you.”

Sooah could go to hell.

You offered a polite chuckle, though to you, it sounded like you were choking on air. Because frankly, you felt like you were. “I do usually slip away in the night,” you answered. You glanced at the door, hating that your salvation had been so close yet so far. “You caught me right before I was to leave.”

When you faced Namjoon again, you noticed the confused look on his features. His brows were furrowed over his eyes, his lips were slightly parted, and he had tilted his head to the side in confusion. His eyes, slightly narrowed, made him look like some sort of dragon, and God were you well placed to know Namjoon could breathe fire if he wanted.

At least when he was a teen, he could.

“I’ve been trying to get in contact with you,” Namjoon admitted. “Your manager said to come here if I wanted a chance to talk to you.”

You cocked an eyebrow, though the mask hid it from view. What the hell could Namjoon want to speak to you about?

“I’ve noticed you portray Ilsan in your art a lot, and since I come from there, I wanted to know if I could buy a piece,” he added to your stunned silence.

“You didn’t have to talk to me to ask for that,” you said, and you glanced around at the employees on the floor that were in charge of the actual selling.

“I wanted to have the artist’s insight on which piece she’d believe would fit best for me,” he continued, and he seemed to realize then that this was weird. He scratched the back of his neck, shrugging his shoulders a little. “Or maybe even have one made personally?”

Now, you remembered why you hated Kim Namjoon. “I do not take commissions,” you flatly replied. “If you wish to buy a piece, you can auction for one with one of my employees.”

“Sorry,” Namjoon quickly said. “I didn’t want to sound rude. Like at all. It’s just… there was this piece I really liked from your last exposition, Winds of the West? I couldn’t buy it in time.”

“I do not remake pieces.”

Silence followed your statement. Had he only then noticed how cold you were towards him?

“Right,” he eventually said. “How unfortunate. I think the person that bought it is here today. Might as well go talk to them.”

It was said like a joke, but you didn’t bite, remaining entirely stoic in front of him. Kim Namjoon didn’t seem to like it, as if he was used to people bending to his every wish, and he probably was.

“Might as well,” you agreed, hoping that it was going to make him leave.

It seemed it did the trick, because he looked over his shoulder, probably searching for the person in question. When his eyes settled back on you, he said, “Guess I’ll let you escape through the night.”

You pursed your lips, nodding once. And just because you wanted to preserve your artist image a little, even though you reckoned you had been rude to him, you said, “Good luck with getting the piece.”

At that, he lit up, and the dimples appeared.

You hated that after all these years, they still had an effect on you.

“Thank you, Maehwa,” he gently said.

Hearing him say your artist’s name had you freezing on the spot. You hoped he didn’t see the panic in your eyes, and the colours draining from the half of your face visible to people. He did furrow his eyebrows once more though, looking pensive, but you didn’t give him a chance to say anything else. Indeed, you quickly wished him good night, before turning around and stepping through the door.

Once you were in the cool darkness, back pressed against the door you’d just locked, you took another deep steadying breath, like the one you had taken before your speech.

Maehwa had been Namjoon’s nickname for you, all those years ago. Because back then, you had mostly been drawing flowers and had been attracted to the maehwas, the blooms of a plum. But maehwas were common and loved, and there was no way he could have connected the dots. He didn’t seem like he had, or else you were pretty sure he would have approached you in an entirely different fashion. Indeed, back then, he had told you he’d kill you if he ever saw you again, which, in your fifteen-year-old heart, had been quite the threat.

Once you were calmed, you walked down the stairs, breathing in a sigh of relief at the sight of your studio. Right now, it was pretty much empty, save for the painting you had started for Miyoung’s wedding next summer.

She wasn’t even engaged yet, but her boyfriend Doyoon had let you in on the secret since you were going to help with the proposal in a few weeks. You glanced at the painting, almost wishing to work on it a little just to get your mind off things. But it was late, and you’d rather be at home, with your cat Gabi.

Was it your fault if memories of Kim Namjoon swam in your head until late that night? You highly doubted so. And looking back, you couldn’t see any beauty in your ending. You, who preached that all endings held beauty. Had you just been too immature then? You thought perhaps you had been, but it didn’t really matter anymore though, did it? It couldn’t.

Why, then, were you unable to shake Kim Namjoon out of your thoughts, until troubled sleep found you in its embrace?

*****

                December was grand. With showers of fluffy snow that left a blanket on the world, and Miyoung’s engagement party. You painted, stained your fingers with blue and purple to match the colours of the winter landscape, and by the time January came, you had all but forgotten how Kim Namjoon had just reappeared one evening in late November.

Your studio was cool at this time of the year, and the windows at the top of the walls had iced with frost. You were wearing a thick sweater, with a pair of leggings you had long stained with paint, back when you were working on the fall Ilsan piece.

Indie music was playing in the background, a new artist that had been taking over Seoul and South Korea with her music. It was sad, but Miyoung had insisted that you listen to it, saying that the artist had been rookie of the year at MAMA last year. You had been supposed to accompany Miyoung to the singer’s stadium show too, but you had ended up being sick, and Sooah had gone in your stead.

The music was lonely, nostalgic, but the lyrics were powerful and inspiring. So you kept on painting, as the light of the rising sun slowly melted the frost on the window, though the corners clung to it like one clings to a lover just returned from war.

You hadn’t slept last night. Had stayed up working on your current piece, and exhaustion was slowly catching up to you, even though the inspiration hadn’t worn off yet. So you kept working, head tilting to the side whenever you finished a small part, waiting to know what the next step in the journey was.

You had a fist on your hip when Sooah and Miyoung both appeared at the top of the stairs leading to the basement, voices cheery and loud in the relative calmness of your studio.

“Please tell me you haven’t been up all night,” Miyoung scolded you, and your gaze slid to where she was walking down the stairs, hands holding up two coffees.

She handed one to you when she reached the basement floor. You took it gladly with the hand that was previously on your hip, shrugging your shoulders. “I was almost done.”

Both Sooah and Miyoung looked at the piece.

“Clearly,” Sooah sarcastically said.

Your eyes also slid back to your piece. You took a step back, and clearly, you were far from done. You had been working on the middle portion all night, but you still had only a vague drawing for the rest of the canvas. You sighed, putting down your brush.

“I meant I’m almost done with what I wanted to finish,” you specified.

Sooah nodded her head, before plopping down on the couch in one corner. Miyoung glanced once at her, before resuming her attention on you.

“Why did it take two months for me to know Kim Namjoon came to your exhibit?” she asked, with the most innocent voice.

Your mouth fell open. “What? It was all over the news.”

“You know I don’t watch the news!” Miyoung exclaimed. “Sooah mentioned it while we were getting coffee.”

“I-“

“And why did you never tell me you dated that guy when you were younger?” Sooah interjected, not letting you finish your sentence.

“Mimi!” you burst, and you jumped towards Miyoung, fully in the hopes of tackling her to the ground.

“The art!” Miyoung screamed as she escaped you. “Be careful with your art!”

You stopped in your tracks, electing to glare at her instead. “Why did you tell her? I was fifteen!”

“Still counts,” Miyoung replied, the innocent act still on.

But you wouldn’t be fooled. “It clearly doesn’t.” You turned your head towards Sooah, who watched with a giddy smile from where she sat. “Right? Who cares about a teenage ex?”

She laughed. “Clearly, you, if you get so worked up about it, what, thirteen years later?”

You frowned, shaking your head. Instead of replying, you took a long sip of your coffee, hoping it would give you something to reply to that.

“I don’t care,” you said when the sip was swallowed, and you couldn’t really wait anymore.

Sooah nodded, getting up from her spot on the couch to head in front of the painting you had been working on. You watched her go, an eyebrow cocked inquisitively.

“Well then,” she said once she was standing there, with her back turned to you. She smacked her lips once, the only way you knew she was up to no good. “You won’t care if I tell you he asked to film something in the gallery, and I said yes.”

You loved your friends. You really did. But sometimes you hated them too. Like right now, as your brain immediately started planning their murder.

“What the fuck?”

Sooah finally turned towards you, acting as if she didn’t just announce the worst news of your life to you. “Yeah. The pay is going to be worth it, and it’s going to give a lot of worldwide visibility to your art. It really is worth it.”

“But Kim Namjoon?” you complained. “Couldn’t you have chosen… I don’t know, some cool indie artist?”

“He’s a cool artist,” Sooah stated, shrugging her shoulders.

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “Is he really?”

“His music is good,” Miyoung cut in innocently.

Your head snapped towards her. “You listen to his music?”

“Yeah, the album he released in December is good.”

And that was how you found yourself sleep-deprived, listening to a music album made by your teenage ex, as your manager explained to you the deeds of the project Namjoon was going to film in the gallery. Even though Sooah was one of your closest friends, you couldn’t really say no when she asked you to do job things. You trusted her entirely on her choices, had always did, but today you regretted it just a little bit.

Luckily enough for her, your exhaustion won over your will to fire her – or worse, to murder her – and you headed home when you finished listening to the album, repeating time and time again to you didn’t think Namjoon’s music was good.

It had led to Miyoung innocently mentioning that your breakup had been ugly, and really you had to get out of there before you committed the irreparable. It was only a few hours later, after a well-deserved nap, that you realized something.

Kim Namjoon shooting a video in your gallery didn’t mean you had to be present, right?

*****

Kim Namjoon shooting a video in your gallery actually meant that you were going to have to be present.

You had been too tired, that day with Sooah. Had entirely not assimilated that the project he was filming was a series of short episodes where he met up with various local artists, presenting their craft to the world. He had chosen you for the painting episode, even though you were quite convinced there were way better artists out there that he could have chosen from. You didn’t really have a say in this – what Sooah wanted, Sooah got.

Still, you were given a reprieve – the date chosen for shooting was still in a week, and so you took to arranging your gallery the way you believed would work best. And though you were pretty sure it was ready, some late Thursday afternoon you found yourself moving around some paintings, deciding to change the location of the Ilsan piece that had been the vehicle of the shadow and light projection you had shown at your exhibit in November.

You watched as two employees moved the piece where you had asked them to, fists on your hips, when bells rang, indicating that someone had walked in. You didn’t dare look behind you, instead giving directions to the employees as one of them carefully climbed the two first steps of a stepladder to hang the painting where it needed to be.

You surveyed them until the painting was safely hung, almost forgetting that someone had walked in. You only remembered when you felt a heavy gaze on your profile, and a silhouette appeared. You glanced their way then, and almost let out a startled scream that would have clearly made the windows explode.

Kim Namjoon offered you a tight-lipped smile.

“Are you Maehwa?” he asked.

You put a hand over your chest, trying to keep your heart from going into arrest. “You can’t just sneak on people like this,” you grumbled.

Then, the weirdest thing happened. He started smiling, wide, flashing his insufferable dimples, and his eyes lit up from within.

“It really is you.”

You gulped. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” You wanted to scold yourself for saying that, as if you wouldn’t know who Kim Namjoon was, even if he wasn’t your ex from so many years ago.

“Y/n, don’t play this game with me,” Namjoon said, teasingly. “I was pretty sure it was you in November, and now I have the proof.”

You scoffed. “What do you want?”

This time, his smile only allowed one dimple to appear, and you hated it even more. “Your manager told me that I could come over today to prepare for shooting. She said you were setting up the gallery.”

You would really need to fire Na Sooah, wouldn’t you?

You looked around, though it was pretty much ready. The filming crew was supposed to come at the beginning of next week to set up the spotlights and everything else they might need, as filming was only supposed to be Wednesday next week.

“Yeah,” you replied flatly. “What do you need to prepare?”

He tilted his head to the side. “We haven’t seen each other in years, and that’s how you speak to me? I remembered you to be a lot warmer.”

The nerves on this man…

“It’s been over ten years, I’ve changed.” You clenched your jaw once, before taking a deep, steadying breath. There were employees around, after all. “What do you need to prepare?”

He just smiled, mysteriously, before glancing around once. “Do you have an office somewhere around here?”

You looked up to the ceiling, rolling your eyes so far back you thought they were going to stick to the back of your head. “I have my studio downstairs,” you grumbled. “Follow me.”

He nodded, dimples flashing, and followed you as you made your way to the door through which you had escaped from him in November. Only this time, there was no escaping.

Namjoon’s heavy footsteps followed you down the stairs, and you braced yourself for the inevitable comments he was going to make about your studio. To your surprise, he remained silent, and you realized that he, too, had changed through the years.

No one remained quite like their fifteen-year-old self, didn’t they?

You moved towards the sitting area, vaguely motioning to an armchair. “Have a seat.”

You glanced over your shoulder, only to see Namjoon was looking at your current work-in-progress. It made you feel insecure, somehow, and you cleared your throat.

Namjoon’s gaze trailed to you. “Sorry.”

He walked towards you, and you felt small as he stopped right in front of you, still with that same infuriating, warm smile on his lips. “Your art has improved a lot through the years.”

You fled his gaze, motioning to the armchair again. “Do you want coffee? Or a tea?”

“Just water would be fine,” he replied, his smile falling for the first time since he had appeared in the gallery upstairs.

You nodded curtly, and as you headed towards the kitchen area of your studio, Namjoon got comfortable in the armchair. You brought back two glasses of water, mostly because you knew you were going to need something to hold to keep your nerves at bay. Namjoon accepted his with a slight bow of his head, and then you sat on the couch.

You exchanged a look, as you waited expectantly for him to say something. He remained silent, a pensive look on his features. It threw you off, as he had been the type to talk a lot back then.

“You’ve changed,” he stated out of the blue, and it made you cock an eyebrow.

“Obviously,” you drawled. “I would expect someone to change after thirteen years.”

Those stupid dimples appeared for half a heartbeat. “Yet you haven’t changed at all.” At your obstinate silence, Namjoon specified, “You’re still just as petty as I remember you to be.”

Your eyes widened. “Are you here to insult me or to prepare for shooting your show?”

He chuckled, a deep sound that had you busying yourself with a sip of water. He mirrored you, before saying, “I don’t mean to insult you at all”.

Should you call him out for his bullshit? Back then you would have, but you had grown up. So you remained silent once more, waiting for him to continue.

“It’s just weird to see you again,” he said, and he motioned towards you with the hand holding the glass. “You look… good.”

Not at all what you were expecting. It made you gulp, and you hated that your cheeks were burning. “It is weird, right?”

He nodded once, eyes trailing away from you to look down at his glass. “I’m happy your dreams worked out.”

Now, the pang in your heart was unwelcome. Kim Namjoon shouldn’t have the power to make you feel like this, not after all the years.

“I worked hard,” you replied carefully. “As you have, I presume.”

At that, he chuckled, tilting his head to the side. “I sure have.”

Another awkward silence and you glanced at him as he took a sip of water.

“So, what did you want to prepare?” you asked once you couldn’t stand the silence anymore.

“Oh,” he let out. He sat back in the armchair, looking way too at ease with his thighs slightly spread. “I wanted to give you the list of questions that I’m going to ask so that way you can prepare in advance,” he told you, offering you another one of those disarming, dimple-flashing smiles.

You cocked an eyebrow. “You couldn’t have shared them by email?”

Another chuckle of his had you looking away, focusing on your project.

“I could have. But I wanted to see if my inkling was right at the same time,” he explained. “Before the day of shooting, that is.”

You sighed, before looking back at him. His eyes were already on you, and it made you gulp once more.

Namjoon had gotten really intimidating, after all these years.

“Well, now you know,” you said. “Was there anything else you needed?”

He seemed surprised at the dismissal in your tone. “Not… really.” He wet his lips, watching you carefully. “I just thought it’d be great to catch up.” His gaze moved to your surroundings, before settling back on you. “To get to know how you managed to get such a nice studio and all that. I haven’t heard about you since we broke up.”

“Because I wanted it to be this way,” you replied. “And why do you have to say it like you didn’t believe I’d make it?”

“Wait, no,” he quickly said. “That’s not what I meant.”

You couldn’t help the roll of your eyes. “Of course not.”

He laughed. “Really? After all these years, you’re still mad at me?”

“You did tell me you wanted to kill me,” you reminded him in a grumble.

He seemed surprised. He frowned, and his head once again tilted to the side. “Did I?”

“You don’t remember?”

At that, you were the one to be surprised. It had been such a pivotal piece of your existence, back then, that you expected it to be marked into his brain the same way that it was in yours.

He shrugged. “Not particularly. I got super busy with being a trainee, and I just… I guess I forgot.”

“Oh,” you let out. The silence that followed was heavy, awkward, and you hoped it was enough for Namjoon to get the cue and leave.

Maybe he was still just as dumb and clueless as he had been then, because he said, “I was intense, wasn’t I?”

You pursed your lips. “Yeah.”

You held his eyes for a few seconds until your gaze dropped to your glass. You hated how you couldn’t look at him anymore, but gosh, he looked a lot better than he did then, and you had already found him attractive all those years ago.

“I…” he trailed off, nibbling at his bottom lip. “I was wondering if I could have your phone number, to send you the list of questions.”

“Uh…” You scratched the back of your neck, shrugging your shoulders. “You can send it to my manager, she’ll have it sent to me.”

If he was disappointed, he didn’t let it show. “I guess I’ll see you next week, then?”

You nodded once, before clenching your jaw. Because why did some stupid part of you not want him to leave right away?

“Did you eat? I was about to order fried chicken.”

He looked almost startled by your invitation. “I… have eaten, actually,” he replied truthfully, never one to lie. “But if you want company while you eat, I can always stay.”

You shook your head. “Nah, all good. I was just asking to be polite.”

He didn’t call you out on your bullshit, instead offering you a tight-lipped smile. “Then I guess I’ll see you next week.”

You walked him back upstairs, teeth nibbling at the inside of your lip as you tried to ignore the weight of the awkwardness between you. He wished you a good day, flashing those dimples of his, and he left, without once looking back.

You watched him as he climbed in a company car, and your gaze dropped to the ground as the car drove away, quickly disappearing from view.

What the hell had just happened?

*****

                Namjoon’s list of questions was good. Mostly, it was centered around what you used as an inspiration, which other artists did you look up to, and what kind of music you listened to while practicing your art, if you listened to any at all. There was also stuff about where you grew up, and how it might have affected your art.

Nothing too personal, yet the fact that the questions were from Namjoon felt incredibly personal, and your hands were clammy, heart beating out of your chest, by the time the day of shooting came. It didn’t help that there was some problem with the cameras, which was only solved a few hours after the shooting was first supposed to start.

This meant you spent the most awkward, long hours of your life in Namjoon’s company, barely even talking because, frankly, you had nothing to tell him. He seemed fine with the silence, or maybe he just sucked at small talk just as much as you, and he didn’t say anything, just sat there scrolling on his phone until the director came to get the two of you.

And when filming started, Namjoon started asking you his questions, and you tried not to be a blushing mess as you answered. Tried and succeeded, you liked to tell yourself, because you were used to being interviewed.

The fact that you were starting to be renowned in Seoul’s painting scene helped, clearly, because you made it through the introduction and first few questions without stuttering.

They were the easiest ones, after all.

“At what age did you start painting?” Namjoon asked as you sat on the little balcony outside of your gallery, looking over the Han River.

Your breath turned into a cloud as you exhaled, and you followed it with your eyes as it moved up towards the sky. “I started when I was seven. But at first, I only drew, and then started painting when I tried it for the first time in middle school and fell in love with the craft.”

Namjoon was there that day. Had ruined your painting when he had fallen next to it, feet getting tangled in the pots of paint. You had been furious, but you had also been two laughing messes by the time class had finished.

You had started dating half a year later, making the decision right outside of the art class, where it had all begun if you were honest.

“What do you like so much about painting?”

You met his gaze, not really knowing how to answer that question. You had been searching for what to reply for hours the day before, and all you had been able to come up with was, “It allows me to create, to evacuate emotions and to make something that is worth looking back at.”

You weren’t sure it was the answer he was looking for, but you still said it. He offered you a secretive smile, as if it made all the sense in the world to him.

You hoped the camera didn’t catch your eyes flicking to his lips, before getting stuck in the dimple on his cheek.

“I think that’s understandable,” he replied truthfully. “Creating music feels a little like that, at least for me.”

You pursed your lips, not really knowing what you could say to add to the conversation. Namjoon took it in stride, following with his next question.

And it went like that for the whole interview. At some point, you moved inside, with the aim of talking about certain art pieces of your choosing. Namjoon asked questions about your latest exposition, about what it was like compared to your first one, and frankly, you didn’t see the time go until the director cut the tape for the last time, telling Namjoon that it was closing time.

To your surprise, Namjoon had one last question for you.

“As we bring this interview to an end,” Namjoon said, eyes finding yours, “I have one last question for our artist.” He waited a few seconds, as if to give emphasis to his words, before adding, “Why did you choose the name Maehwa?”

You stared at him, he stared at you. You were pretty sure he could read the answer in your eyes, and you were pretty sure you didn’t want to say it out loud. It felt awkward, and this time you doubted the makeup they had put on your skin before filming could hide the blush on your cheeks.

“Uh,” you let out, coughing a little. “When I was younger, a friend of mine used to call me that. I liked the nickname, and I guess it stuck around?”

‘A friend of mine translated’ to him, to Namjoon, and you hoped he couldn’t tell just how much you were spiraling, like a leaf caught in the whirlpool of a leaking sink. Because you were caught in the current, feeling like you were stupid, to have held onto a stupid nickname that meant nothing, that never should have meant anything.

“It’s a pretty name,” Namjoon reflected.

His eyes were heavy on you because, of course, he knew that it was him. Of course, he remembered the days of youth where you had learned about love, by his side.

He had been there after all.

“Thank you,” you replied, a little breathlessly.

After that, Namjoon closed the interview, and when the cameras turned off, you let out a long, wavering sigh. It made him chuckle, as people buzzed around you to put everything away.

“Everything okay?”

You offered him a no-bullshit look. “You didn’t tell me about that last question.”

It sounded accusing, and frankly, you were accusing him. He recoiled, just a little, losing the small smile that was gracing his lips.

“I honestly thought it up during the interview,” he admitted. “I should have warned you.”

You clenched your jaw for a few seconds, before releasing yet another sigh. “It’s whatever. Why did you even want to know that?”

“Because I gave you that nickname…” he said, looking suddenly ashamed.

As if he was a child getting scolded for making a mistake. You didn’t like that look on him, even though he entirely deserved it, so you softened your expression before saying, “You did.”

He held your gaze, and the space between you filled with memories, with his laughter and the rain that early June night when you had kissed for the first time. It made you long for the warmth of his honey-toned skin, taking you by surprise.

Yes, you had once loved Kim Namjoon, but that had been thirteen years ago, when you were too young to actually know what love was.

“Do you…” you started, not knowing where you were headed.

Yet it was like he knew. “Do you want to get dinner with me sometime this week?” he asked, finishing your sentence.

You smiled, looking down as if that would hide the blush on your cheeks. “Only if you take me somewhere nice.”

“You deserve the best,” he said, nodding once. “I know just the place.”

You met his gaze again, and the smile grew like flowers under the sun. “Then yes, I’d like to grab dinner with you.”

At that, he offered you an award-winning smile, with the infuriating dimples creating indents in his cheeks. “For a moment, I was convinced you were going to refuse.”

The blush on your cheeks deepened as you asked, “Why?”

“You haven’t been…” he trailed off, glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention to the both of you, but most people were busy putting away the lights and mics from the set. “You haven’t been very warm,” he finished as his eyes settled back on you.

You nibbled at your lower lip, nodding curtly. “Right.” You held his gaze for a few seconds, and then you found you were too much of a coward, fleeing his dragon eyes to look at the tiles of the floor instead. “We didn’t part on exactly good terms, you know?”

“Yeah.” He took a step towards you, extending his hand in front of him as if expecting you to shake it. When he added, “I’m Kim Namjoon, it’s nice to meet you”, you understood that he was, in fact, waiting for you to shake it.

“What are you doing?” you asked, ignoring the hand.

He stubbornly kept it there. “Pretending that this is my first time meeting you,” he explained, even though it made little to no sense. When he saw the confused look on your face, he clarified, “So that way, we can pretend that the past never happened, and we can start again on better grounds.”

It made you giggle, a shy little sound that had you finally cave in, your small hand closing around his large one. “I already agreed to grab dinner with you, but…” you trailed off, finally meeting his gaze again. “Nice to meet you, Kim Namjoon. I’m Y/n.”

He held your hand for a second longer than necessary, before letting it go. Your fingers twitched as if wishing he had held on longer, and you hid it by hiding your arm behind your back.

“You come here often?” he asked, adding your name at the end. “I’ve never seen you around.”

You cocked an eyebrow, and you both burst out laughing at the same time.

“You’re bad at this,” you teased him. “We’re in my studio, of course, I come here often.”

He nodded. “Ah, I apologize. It’s my first time around, after all.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving him in the shoulder. It just made him laugh again, and there was something so familiar, so warm in his laugh that you turned wistful. He immediately noticed the shift in you, and his smile slowly died down to be replaced by a serious look.

“I’m serious,” he told you. “It’d be great to start on new grounds.”

“I know. I fully agree,” you said. “It’s just… who would have thought I’d accept to grab dinner with the first boy that broke my heart.”

He didn’t reply. Just turned a little apologetic, though you reckoned you had broken his heart too. You both had been young and dumb, there was no way to deny it. And it was strange indeed, that thirteen years later, you had met again. Both of you having changed, having grown until you weren’t sure you really recognized him.

Except for the dimples. The dimples were the same, a never-changing feature that you didn't doubt had stolen the heart of a million of his fans. It had stolen your heart back then after all.

“So,” he said after his manager told him that they were ready to leave, breaking the bubble of the little dimension you both had fallen in. “This time, I assume you’ll allow me to write down your number?”

You snorted, holding out your hand between the two of you, a little like he had done earlier though you were waiting for him to give you his phone. “Sure, I’ll put it in your phone.”

He pouted, looking like the child you had known all those years ago. “I lost my phone.”

“What?”

He repeated sheepishly. “I think I left it in the company car that dropped me off here.”

That was such a Namjoon thing to do you found your heart growing warm once again. “Okay then, I’ll write my number on a paper, and you text me when you find your phone. That works?”

The bright smile returned, and he nodded his head. “That works for me.”

You held his gaze for a few more seconds, before moving away to go get paper in your studio downstairs. When you came back up, he was still waiting, though this time his manager was next to him, looking somehow a little pressed. You felt bad, assuming that he was upset because you were making him wait, so you jogged to Namjoon.

“There you go,” you said, handing him over the paper. Your eyes glided to the manager, before returning to Namjoon. “Text me when you can.”

“I will,” he said.

It sounded like a promise, just as much as it sounded like a beginning.

*****

                “You are shitting me,” Miyoung said, eyes wide like flying saucers.

Cheeks burning, you avoided her insistent gaze. “No…”

“You’re grabbing dinner with Kim Namjoon?” she repeated, and the words sounded so foreign in her mouth that you winced a little.

“Huh,” you let out. “Yeah, seems like I am.”

She shook her head in disbelief, before chuckling lightly. “I can’t believe him. You’re supposed to hate him. You didn’t even want to listen to his music, and now you’re going out with him?” She paused to laugh again. “Sooah won’t believe this.”

“Come on,” you whined. “It’s nothing.”

“Shut up,” Miyoung said as she grabbed her phone. “I’m texting Sooah right now to let her know.”

You tried to steal your friend’s phone from her hands, but she darted away, out of your reach, long enough for the message to be sent. You were pretty sure your cheeks had gone purple now, and all you could do was fold your arms on your chest as you glared at Miyoung.

“It’s just dinner,” you pointed out. “Nothing to freak out about.”

Miyoung narrowed her gaze, eyeing you suspiciously. “Why are you even grabbing dinner with him? What are you hoping to achieve?” Her gaze widened before you could even speak. “Are you only going because he’s RM of BTS?”

You rolled your eyes, looking at the ceiling of your studio. Miyoung had come over when you had texted her about the dinner earlier, claiming that she needed to see for herself if you were just playing with her.

“No?” you said. “I don’t care that he’s RM. I accepted the offer because… I don’t know, at the end of the day, he’s a childhood friend.”

“A childhood friend? He was your first everything.”

Touché. Today, you felt weird whenever you remembered that he had taken your virginity, when you both were so young you shouldn’t even have been thinking about that. You had regretted it for years after – mostly because you had started hating him so bad, but also just because you had been so young. It felt wrong somehow.

“Whatever,” you mumbled. “I only told you because I don’t know how to date. I never really go on dates.”

She laughed, hiding her mouth behind her hand. “Oh my God, it is a date, right?”

You felt yourself flush red, furiously, and your gaze fell to the floor. “I mean, I think so? Don’t you?”

“I thought it was just dinner with a childhood friend,” she mused, hands going behind her back as she rocked on her feet. She was teasing you, and you glared at her. “Alright, alright,” she let out after a few seconds of holding your gaze with a shit-eating smirk on her lips. “First, we’ll need to figure out what you need to wear.”

You nodded, nibbling at your lips. “He mentioned dinner at a restaurant.”

He had. Namjoon had texted you the night after the shoot, claiming that he had indeed forgotten his phone in the car. He had also sent you the link to a famous restaurant in Gangnam, one that you were pretty sure was way over your budget even though you were relatively well-off financially. He had told you he knew the owner, and that the restaurant had private rooms where you could eat without fearing for fans or paparazzi seeing you.

“So then you want to dress nicely,” Miyoung said, nodding once. “A nice pair of dress pants with a cute blouse would do. Or maybe that long black skirt you have that ends right over the knee? You could pair it with…”

“Y/n!” Sooah yelled from the top of the stairs, startling both you and Miyoung. “How dare you not tell me you’re getting dinner with a celebrity?”

Your gaze widened in fear as you watched your manager walking down the stairs, purpose filling her every move.

You were pretty sure the purpose was to murder you.

She pointed a finger at you in affront, her cheeks a little red from the anger. “This is manager business. You can’t just decide…”

“Cut it,” Miyoung interrupted. “You literally bet with me last week that it would happen.”

Sooah dropped the act, face cutting into a bright smile. “I sure did, and I won.” She held out a hand towards Miyoung, who begrudgingly took ten thousand won out of her wallet to put it in Miyoung’s hand. “Thank you,” your manager said. “Now, what’s the plan?”

“They’re getting dinner at a restaurant,” Miyoung declared before you could speak. “What’s the name again?”

You didn’t remember, so you grabbed your phone to look at your text conversation with Namjoon. “Huh…” you trailed off, scrolling up to when he had sent the menu. “Seasons of Seoul.”

Sooah’s mouth fell open. “The Seasons of Seoul? That’s one fancy-ass restaurant.”

You startled at the sound of the curse in Sooah’s voice, before bursting out laughing in time with your friends. “It is,” you said, voice lilting into a whine. “It’s definitely above my budget.”

“Namjoon seems like a gentleman,” Miyoung pointed out “I’m pretty sure he’ll pay.”

“For sure,” Sooah agreed. “When’s the date?”

You blushed, shrugging your shoulders. “We haven’t decided on a day yet.”

“Just tell me when and I’ll clear your schedule,” Sooah said. “I don’t care about any interviews when you can be going on a date with Kim Namjoon.”

You rolled your eyes, though a playful smiled teased the corners of your mouth. “You’ll be the first to know.”

“Yah, I believe I should be the first to know since I was helping you plan what to wear!” Miyoung interjected, which led to your two friends bickering, and then to them helping you out with what to wear. It was a little hard since you weren’t at home and couldn’t rummage through your walk-in closet. Since it was already running late, Sooah suggested heading over to yours, and that was how you found yourself sitting cross-legged on the floor of your living room, back against the couch, as you ate fried chicken and drank soju with your friends.

You were definitely a little buzzed by the time you finished eating, washing your hands at the kitchen sink before you aimed for your closet, where you started pulling out outfit after outfit.

You said no to all of your friends’ suggestions, mostly because it didn’t feel right. Sooah, growing annoyed, suggested to go shopping on the morrow, which made Miyoung jump in excitement, which in turn scared your cat Gabi away.

“Yes, please, please, please!” Miyoung exclaimed. “We haven’t gone in forever. It’ll be like when we were in college procrastinating studying.”

You laughed, brain swimming with alcohol. “As long as you don’t bring me to those fancy stores,” you said. “I hate when people talk to me while I’m shopping for clothes.”

Both your friends threw you no-bullshit looks.

“Come on,” Sooah let out. “Maybe we can even get you another nice outfit for the launch of your next exhibit.”

“I’ve barely even started working on it, it’s not going to be for another full year, at least,” you pointed out. “No need to shop for an outfit now.”

“Pleaseeee,” Miyoung begged. “It’s going to be fun. We can even go to that Samoyed café you like so much.”

The perspective of seeing the Samoyed puppies suddenly made a shopping trip all the more interesting. “Mmh,” you hummed. “I’ll consider it.”

“Bitch!” Miyoung burst, punching you in the shoulder hard enough to hurt. “We’re going tomorrow, just accept your destiny.”

You rolled your eyes as you massaged the spot she had hit, before finally nodding. “Alright, we’ll go. As long as you don’t make me spend my entire paycheck on clothes.”

“Your entire paycheck is like five times what I make so, shut it,” Miyoung pointed out.

“You did sell a piece for over 50 million won last week,” Sooah reminded you.

They had allied against you, hadn’t they?

“Right,” you let out.

“So you have nothing to say for your defense,” Miyoung said sternly, fists resting on her hips in mock authority. “We’re going tomorrow, and you’re coming with us. And,” she added, nodding forcefully, “And you will enjoy yourself.”

You laughed at how dumb she looked. “I’ll try. But I can’t guarantee anything.”

To your surprise, you actually enjoyed yourself the next day. Miyoung and Sooah were great company, had always been, and it really had been a long time since you had spent time together like this. The whole day was spent laughing and gossiping and just enjoying yourselves, and you did end up buying a lot more outfits than you probably needed. Which would be a problem when it came to what to choose for the date, but you didn’t really care.

It was late in the afternoon when your phone buzzed on the table of the Samoyed café, and you picked it up as Miyoung cooed at the fluffy dog she was playing with.

It was Namjoon, asking you if you would be willing to go out with him this Friday.

“Oh my God,” you let out, and you felt your cheeks burning as your outburst had attracted the attention of other clients of the café. “He texted me,” you whispered then for only your friends to hear.

Sooah yelped, clapping her hands. She looked so far from the fierce manager you knew her to be you burst out laughing, slightly shaking your head.

“What did he say?” she asked.

You didn’t answer for a time, letting suspense hang in the air between you and your friends. When Miyoung got up, clearly aiming to grab your phone out of your hands and read the text herself, you finally spoke. “Looks like you’re going to have to clear my schedule this Friday night.”

Sooah shrieked as Miyoung grinned wildly.

“Consider it done!”

*****

                You were anxious. Had been anxious all week, and it had shown up in the painting you were working on. It had turned into a hectic mess of colours, inching closer to a dark cloud than to anything else. It represented your mental state well, even though you tried to keep reminding yourself that it was just Namjoon. If there was such a thing as just Namjoon.

Gosh.

You sighed, looking at yourself in your standing mirror. You were wearing one of the designer outfits you had bought earlier this week, and the skirt hugged your frame well, enhancing your curves. You had curves, you were aware of it, but you weren’t sure they were supposed to look this good. Paired with the white blouse and black blazer, you looked like you were going on a date with a CEO, and not Kim Namjoon.

Though, nowadays it felt almost as if one was a synonym for the other.

You liked the fit, you really did, you were just afraid Namjoon would think you were overdoing yourself. But somehow, you felt really comfortable, ready to conquer the world if need be. Maybe just not Kim Namjoon.

But it was too late to back out of the date. Indeed, the doorbell rang, indicating that he was here, and you met your gaze in the mirror one last time before going to open the door.

Namjoon looked … incredible. With a pair of dark dress pants along with a pale cardigan over a yellow polo. Over that, he was wearing a long coat that looked way too expensive, yet still fit the look. It was more of an artist look than yours, and yet it suited him perfectly.

He was an artist, too, after all.

Most of all, he was holding a bouquet of pale flowers – rose and white and lilac – and he handed it to you as he took in the sight of you.

“You’re beautiful,” he complimented, and he flashed you a corner smile that had just one of his dimples appear.

Your cheeks burned as you nodded once. “You as well,” you said, grabbing the flowers. You hesitantly inhaled them, satisfied with the sweet floral scent that took over your nostrils. You glanced over your shoulder, before opening the door wider for him to come in. “You can come in, I’ll just go put these in water.”

He nodded, stepping in as you retreated into your home, searching for an appropriate vase for the bouquet. Once it was safely tucked in a vase with room temperature water, you moved back to where Namjoon was still waiting, right next to the door. You smiled, a little awkwardly, before putting on the high heels you had chosen for the date.

Namjoon patiently waited for you, and once you straightened, you put on your winter coat, grabbing your purse where you had left it on the table near the door.

“Ready?” Namjoon asked when your gaze finally met his.

You nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yes. Let’s go.”

He smiled his dimple smile, and he opened the door for you. You walked outside, waiting until he had shut it behind him so you could lock it. The cold air hit you right in the face, and you hid your face in the flaps of your coat. To your luck, Namjoon had picked you up in a company car, considering he didn’t drive, and you climbed in first, quickly followed by him.

You sighed at the warmth in the car, and watched as Namjoon leaned forward to tell the driver the address, before sitting back comfortably next to you.

Conversation was somehow awkward at first, mostly because you struggled holding Namjoon’s gaze. In all truth, you reckoned the awkwardness stuck around until you got to the restaurant, and even still as you were led to the private room Namjoon had rented for you both.

He helped you out of your coat, ever so the gentleman, hanging it before taking off his own and putting it beside yours. You just stood for a time, not knowing what to do as you took in the elegance of the restaurant and the dim, private atmosphere that reigned.

You felt like you had stepped right into a palace and, frankly, you weren’t sure you belonged in such a place.

“Sit!” Namjoon quickly said as he noticed you were still standing. And then he rushed to pull the chair for you, making you chuckle embarrassingly.

“You don’t…” you trailed off as you caught a whiff of his cologne.

A dark, masculine smell that made your head a little dizzy. You couldn’t tell why you hadn’t smelled it before – maybe it was because of the coat. All that you knew was that the oaky smell wrapped around you comfortably, refusing to let you go.

“What?” he asked as he sat in front of you, offering you an encouraging smile.

You took a deep breath, chest moving up and down as you tried to regain your composure. When you felt like you could speak without embarrassing yourself further, you said, “Since when are you such a gentleman?”

That made him laugh, full of dimples again, and he slightly shook his head. “Wasn’t I a gentleman when we were dating all those years ago?”

Not at all. He had been an awkward teenager, and you both knew it. As such, you cocked an eyebrow, a teasing smile growing on your lips.

“Were you?”

He winced, chuckling again. “Not at all. But I grew out of it.”

He sure had. He barely held any resemblance to the boy you had once known, except for those damned dimples that were making it hard for you to focus. And now the cologne? You were done for.

“Bangtan changed you, didn’t it?”

He nodded pensively. “I think that, having to be the leader of all these kids? Yeah, it really made me mature faster than I thought possible.”

You furrowed your brows in question. “I don’t know a lot about Bangtan but… isn’t Seokjin older than you?”

Before he could answer, a pretty waitress walked in, pulling a cart with different wine bottles on it. She greeted you two, stopping next to the table before asking you what you wanted to drink. You glanced at Namjoon, who offered you an encouraging smile, as if saying, ‘I’ll have whatever you have’.

“This Cabernet is actually my favourite. So we’ll take this one, please,” you asked, and the waitress offered you a bright smile as she picked up the bottle.

You watched as she put it on the table, eyes trailing to Namjoon longingly. A fan – she was clearly a fan. Namjoon offered her a professional, practiced smile, and she flushed red as she grabbed a wine opener to uncork the bottle. She carefully opened it, before pouring you two a glass.

It was awkward, somehow. And it was only then that you noticed there was jazz music playing in the background. It felt odd that you hadn’t noticed it before – had the beats of your heart been too loud for you to hear it?

When the waitress finally left, offering Namjoon one last look over her shoulder, you cocked an eyebrow, trying not to laugh.

“What?” he asked.

“Does this happen often?”

He chuckled, fingers playing with his glass as he evaded your gaze. “More than you can imagine.” He met your gaze then, and you watched his features as they softened. “But you don’t have to worry about us being here getting out in the media. The owner of the restaurant is an old friend, and she assured that all of her staff can be trusted.”

It hadn’t even crossed your mind, but you weren’t surprised that he had thought of it.

“That’s more of a relief for you than it is for me,” you pointed out.

He nodded, a warm smile on his lips. “You have a reputation too! You’re an artist, just like me.”

That made you snort as you shook your head, eyes falling to your untouched glass of wine. “I don’t think I am in the same category as you, Kim Namjoon. I’m just a painter.”

“You’re much more than just a painter, Maehwa.”

Your throat went dry at the way he said the words, as if they held so much meaning they were heavier than the world. And you wouldn’t be surprised if they did – Kim Namjoon had always been a poet, after all.

“I’m not a member of the most popular K-pop band in the world, though,” you reminded him, and dimples answered you as he humbly smiled.

“Evidently not.”

A comfortable silence moved between you – the first of the evening, you reckoned – and your eyes once more fell to your wine glass. You picked up, spinning the wine to bring out the aromas of it.

“Want to taste?” you asked him, motioning to his own glass.

He picked it up, nodding his head. “Please. I’m surprised to know you have a favourite wine.”

“Trust me, it’s worth it.”

He chuckled, and you clinked your glasses together before taking a sip. You let the rich taste roll on your tongue, appreciating every milliliter of it until you swallowed, and even the aftertaste was good.

A really good wine, indeed. Way too expensive, in your opinion, but you had always liked expensive things. As your designer clothes could tell, and as your date across the table could tell, too.

Not that you were a snobby artist – you were far from it. But you had learned how to appreciate the good things in life long ago when you had first discovered art.

“I like it,” Namjoon commented as he put down the glass. “Nice choice.”

You smiled, relieved that he indeed liked your choice.

As wine flowed between the two of you, you found conversation with Kim Namjoon was a lot easier than you had initially expected. He put you at ease, like he did when you were younger. Together, you reminisced about middle school and high school, about that time he had spilled hot chocolate on his uniform and you had helped him clean up, which had brought you guys closer.

Until he had kissed you as you were doodling maehwas on his arm, and the rest was history.

“No, but,” he insisted, his cheeks turning a pale shade of pink as he closed his eyes in embarrassment. His dimples winked at you, and you looked at him as he collected his thoughts. “To be fair, I never planned to break it. It wasn’t even my fault.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “You were the one holding it,” you reminded him.

You were referencing a fragile plate your mom had offered Namjoon, from her collection of nice plates she usually only displayed during fancy events. Namjoon had broken it a whole hour after he had been gifted it, and to this day, you still couldn’t understand how he had broken it.

“You tickled me!” he burst out, narrowing his eyes at you. “It was entirely your fault.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, before chuckling lightly. “I barely even touched you.”

He glared at you, though it didn’t last, melting into a soft smile that had you looking down at the table.

Right at the same time, a lean girl walked in, clad in a chef’s outfit, holding up the food you and Namjoon had ordered earlier. She offered you a polite smile, and it turned nostalgic as she looked towards Namjoon.

Namjoon said her name, before turning to look at you. “This is the friend I told you about.”

She was beautiful, in an easy, elegant kind of way. Her shoulder-length hair swayed nicely when she walked, and you had half a thought that she probably should be wearing something to make sure no hair could get in the food. Then you figured she probably had taken it off to come here, and you only realized that she had spoken to you when both she and Namjoon settled their gaze on you.

“Nice to meet you too,” you replied, because you were 75% convinced that that was what she had said.

You were relieved when she smiled knowingly, eyes trailing back to Namjoon. They talked a little more, and it took you a moment before you understood that she was one of Namjoon’s friends’ ex. They continued speaking after that, as you listened politely, nodding whenever she looked your way to encourage her to continue.

She looked sad. Nostalgic. Whoever her ex was, you had the intuition that she still loved him.

“Have a good evening,” she told the two of you about a minute later, bowing.

You bowed your head back, as Namjoon wished her good evening, and then you watched her walk out of the room, hair prettily moving around her head.

“She’s Seokjin’s ex,” Namjoon let out pensively once she was out of earshot.

Your eyes widened, and you looked back towards him. “Your bandmate?”

He nodded. “They broke up a few years ago, during the pandemic,” he explained. “They were engaged.”

You weren’t sure Namjoon was supposed to tell you any of that. It sounded personal, and he seemed to get the cue as you remained silent, eyes falling to the steaming plate in front of you.

“Anyway,” he said, chuckling awkwardly. “Shall we eat?”

“Yes,” you immediately replied, a little too quickly.

It had both of you laugh, and the awkwardness lifted to be replaced by that same familiarity the evening had held until Seokjin’s ex had come in. It had you fall back in your nostalgic memories, as you ate the delicious food on your plate.

When you were done eating, Namjoon suggested dessert, and not really wanting the evening to end yet, you accepted. It led to you both drinking a little more, your inhibitions slurring as alcohol rushed through your bloodstream, making you feel young and alive.

The feeling lingered with your lively chatter, with the exchanged laughs and long looks. Sometimes, Namjoon’s eyes burned on you, and you found you were too afraid to hold his gaze, too afraid to let it mean anything. Whenever it happened, you looked down at your glass, and the tenth time that it happened, you found the glass to be empty.

No salvation for you there. Especially considering that dessert was eaten and long gone, and all that had been left was the bottle of wine.

“So,” Namjoon said as he, too, took in the sight of the empty glasses and bottle. “I…” He chuckled, ears turning pink as his dimples flashed on his cheeks. “Thank you for tonight.”

You couldn’t help your own blush as you replied, “I’m glad I said yes.”

He met your gaze, eyes darting to your lips once. When they settled back on your own gaze, you swallowed a sudden lump in your throat.

“We should…” he started, falling silent as he scraped his throat. “We should do this again.”

The lump dissolved into nothingness as you smiled, softly. “I would love to.”

“What about on Sunday? There’s this exhibit I’ve been meaning to visit, thought you might want to join?”

“You want to bring an artist to another artist’s exhibit?”

He seemed surprised at your question, as if it hadn’t even crossed his mind. And truth be told, you liked visiting your fellow artists. There was just something about a shared passion that made you feel calm, understood. As if, no matter the sorrows your life could hold, there would always be someone out there who understood. Someone who could share the burden, who’d offer you a helping hand in the form of art whenever you needed it.

So you quickly added, before Namjoon could say anything, “I’m kidding, yes, I’d love to accompany you.”

He looked so relieved something warm blossomed in your chest, and your cheeks burned.

“Well then,” he said, smiling that dimpled smile. “I should get you home, it’s getting late.”

The perspective of the date ending made your heart squeeze in your chest, for a reason you couldn’t quite understand. “Right,” you agreed.

It was all you said before you both got up, moving to retrieve your coats by the door. After that, you walked towards the outside world, and when Namjoon’s hand accidentally grazed yours – or perhaps it was on purpose – you hooked a finger around his pinky.

Looking up to him, you caught him looking down at you already. From so close, he towered over you, though there was nothing threatening with his height. It felt comforting, safe, as if you were under his protection.

By the warmth in his eyes, you knew you truly were.

You waited in the lobby for the car to come pick you up, Namjoon with his back turned to the people. Though no one looked your way, no one acknowledged your presence, and for a second, you wondered if you really were with a worldwide famous singer or if Namjoon was just a normal person.

Someone like you, someone who could revel in anonymity wherever he went.

“The car is here,” Namjoon told you as you were looking behind him, observing the patrons slowly exiting, laughing about a joke only they knew.

You smiled up at him, before letting him grab your hand properly this time as he led you outside. His large palm engulfed your small one, warmed it up, and your fingers were tingling by the time you reached the car door that Namjoon opened for you.

He really wasn’t a gentleman when you were younger. There was something oddly relieving to see him act in such a way now, showing you that he had grown since you were sixteen and too dumb to actually know what love was.

You settled in the car, reveling in the warm vehicle as Namjoon sat in the seat right next to you. And when the car jostled forward, you became all too aware of the place where Namjoon’s thigh rested against yours, and of where his arm pressed against yours.

You turned your head to look at him, admiring the soft glow on his features induced by the neon lights outside. He met your gaze, offered you a smile, and you felt yourself leaning forward. As if there was a pull between you, something that was inevitable. You had never been good at resisting, so you let yourself be pulled, let yourself find him.

He met you halfway, lips infinitely and surprisingly soft even with the cold January night out there. He sighed against you, shifting slightly so he could angle his head better, deepening the kiss.

And kiss you he did, with memories and yearning and nostalgia that had you part your lips when his tongue swiped at your bottom lip, only to meet it with yours. You remembered days of early art, of words whispered in the dead of night when nothing seemed like it could bring you apart, when you believed it was you and him against the rest of the world.

Your breakup flashed in your thoughts as he rested a hand on your thigh, carefully, but you pushed it away, refusing to let the memory stain this moment with him.

As much as the kiss was unexpected, bubbling out of neon lights on Namjoon’s soft features, it was also expected. As if fifteen-year-old you had expected to find him again, somewhere, even though you had fled to an entire other high school.

As if the story had just been put on hold then, to resume once the time was right. And as much as you usually were wary in your relationships, tonight felt right. It felt right in all the ways that mattered, in his arm on your thigh and the soft smile he offered you when he pulled away, reminding you that you weren’t alone in the car.

You chuckled, blushing deeply, and your hand landed on top of his on your thigh.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, and he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

You leaned into his touch, sighing dreamily. “I don’t know if it’s the wine,” you said, low enough to make sure only his ears could perceive your words, “but I really want to kiss you more.”

That made him laugh, and his hand fell away from your cheek. “Not here,” he said, head motioning to the driver. “You’ll have to wait until Sunday.”

You pursed your lips, thought about it for half a second before you said, “Do you want to sleep over tonight?”

His grip on your thigh slightly tightened, the only indication that your words had had an effect on him. “You’d like that?”

You parted your lips, tongue darting to wet them. “Yes.”

It was no wonder Namjoon ended up pinning you against your closed door as soon as you walked in, locking you between his strong arms as his lips ravished a hungry kiss on your mouth. You grabbed at the lapels of his coat, trying to pull him closer, right as he slipped one of his large hands to arch your back, pressing your front against him.

The second he left your lips to press open-mouthed kisses on your jaw, you fought against his coat to rid him of the clothing. He sucked on your jaw as he helped you, and soon enough, the coat was abandoned on the floor, right as he pulled you in.

You kicked off your shoes, lips meeting again in a kiss that had your head spin, right as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He groaned when you bit on his bottom lip, and then picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He put you down on the decorative table near the door, and in an attempt to rid him of his shirt, you pushed a vase.

The sound that it made when it shattered on the floor startled both of you, and Namjoon looked down, eyes wide.

“Oh no,” he let out.

You caught his startled gaze, breathing raggedly. “Don’t worry, it was just a cheap vase.”

He looked down at the mess, nodding once. “I’ll buy you another one.”

And then he was finding your mouth again, sucking on your lower lip as he started to fight against your coat, trying to get you out of it. He shortly had to pull away, brows knitting together in concentration because, as much as he tried, the zipper of your coat wasn’t budging.

“Hold on,” you said, putting your hands above his.

Much gentler than him, you managed to unzip the coat, and he helped you slip out of it, throwing it towards his. His eyes dropped to your thighs, where your skirt had ridden up to reveal more skin, though you were wearing pantyhose. He ran his hand along your thighs, head hanging low. You watched him do so, watched his jet-black hair falling in his eyes until you couldn’t resist anymore, reaching between you to push it back.

The strands fell right back in front of his eyes, but it attracted his gaze. He looked at you through his hair, dragon eyes burning a hole through you, and you grabbed his cheeks to pull him into yet another heated kiss.

“Fuck,” he muttered against your lips, and he subconsciously grinded against you, though the skirt and the fabric of his own pants kept you from feeling anything.

“You think we can make it to my room,” you whispered as he moved to your neck, kissing a hot kiss just below your ear.

“You’ll have to show me the way.”

You chuckled, gently pushing on his chest until he finally disconnected from your neck and took a step back. It allowed you to plop down from the table on which he had sat you, and you grabbed his hand, right as he dipped his head to kiss you again.

You kissed him back, moaning softly when his large hand cupped your ass, grabbing at the meat hard but not enough to hurt. It had even more heat pool at your core, liquid lava that was slowly making you unravel, and you needed more.

You pulled away from the kiss begrudgingly, mostly because you wanted to stay here, to be consumed with the passion Namjoon’s lips were carving against you.

You had to make it to your room before you went insane. So you pulled him behind you, not once looking back, or else you wouldn’t get there at all. Luckily enough, you held on strong, but the moment you crossed the threshold to your room, Namjoon pulled you against him, large hand resting on the base of your neck to keep you from moving away.

It took all of three seconds before your brain zeroed in on the spot where his hard dick was pressing against your back.

“Can you feel how much I want you?” he asked, voice low and husky, sending shivers all over your body.

You nodded, tilting your head to the side to give him access when he lowered his head. Too tall, he didn’t quite reach your neck, but his breath skimming over your skin made goosebumps erupt on you.

“I want you too,” you replied breathily.

You could hear a dangerous smirk in his voice when he said, “Take that skirt off”.

Something settled deep inside of you, making you into a puppet he could control. Stepping away from him, your hands went behind your back to unzip the skirt, and you let it fall to the floor. It pooled around your ankle, but when he stepped closer again, one hand squeezing the flesh of your ass, you found yourself unable to do anything.

“You should take off the pantyhose, too, before I rip them”, he added.

You didn’t doubt that Namjoon often miscalculated his strength. Even when he was just a gangly teenager, he already struggled with clumsiness. So you pulled the pantyhose down your legs, and you stepped out of the pile of clothing, waiting for him as he moved closer again.

This time, his hands slipped to your front, and he looked over your shoulder as he started undoing the buttons of your blouse, not even caring that you were still wearing the blazer. His breath skimmed on the side of your face as he did so, and your eyes fluttered closed as you focused on every brush of fabric against you while he worked his way down your blouse.

He pushed both the blouse and blazer off your shoulders when he was done, and they fell on the floor behind you. He didn’t seem to care as he wrapped his arm to your front, moving up until he grabbed your breasts through your bra, squeezing slightly.

“Get on the bed,” he commanded then, and still the good puppet you did, walking to the mattress and sitting down, eyes finally finding him again.

He didn’t say anything as he slowly undressed, pulling his cardigan off. It fell somewhere next to the pile of your clothing, and then he attacked the polo, taking it off in one swift motion that revealed the expanse of his wide chest.

His honey skin seemed to prettily gleam in the moonlight, where it was pulled taught over the big muscles of his chest. He looked sculpted in marble, big and buff, and you closed your thighs in reflex at the thought of his weight over you.

Needless to say, he didn’t look like that when he was a teenager at all. Adulthood looked good on him.

He unbuckled his belt next, taking his time as you just surveyed him. Even in the dim light from the full moon outside, you could see the bulge in his pants, and you salivated at the thought of wrapping your lips around him, of tasting him and making him feel good.

The belt fell with a thud to the ground, and your lips parted as he palmed himself, enhancing the size of his bulge. Your eyes widened slightly – he looked far bigger than you had initially thought he’d be, though you weren’t all that surprised with his large frame.

“Take off your bra,” he said next. “I want to see your breasts.”

You nodded, hands going to your back as you unclasped the bra. You slowly took it off, nipples perking when cold air hit them. You shivered once again as his eyes roamed over you, and even more so when he said, “Beautiful” as if you were a piece of art made for him to admire.

And with the way he was looking at you, you thought maybe, maybe you were.

He took a few steps towards you, and your eyes darted towards the lamp on your bedside table. Namjoon caught your motion, and he tutted lightly. “Not tonight,” he told you. “Tonight is about feeling, not about seeing.”

For some reason, you had expected him to be a lights-on kind of partner, but you weren’t mad about his will to stay in the dark. Because you knew all too well how much pleasure could course through your blood when your sense of sight was taken from you. As an artist, you relied on it far more than a lot of people – the loss of it made you weak, in a burning kind of way.

If you were honest, you enjoyed being blindfolded a lot, but you didn’t see yourself asking Namjoon to do it today. Lights off seemed the closest thing to it, so you didn’t argue with him as he used a knee to part your legs in an attempt to get closer to you.

He grabbed your chin, making you tilt your head back so he could catch your gaze. His eyes were dark, even in the silvery moonlight, and you gulped as he gently patted your cheek.

“You’re going to feel good for me, mmh?”

You nodded, entirely unable to use words right now. Mostly because you were but a puppet, and he the puppeteer. He smirked, satisfied, before unbuttoning his pants. Your eyes dropped, and you watched him do it expectantly, teeth gently digging into your bottom lip in apprehension.

The good kind, the one that made you burst into an explosion of flames.

“You think you can wrap your pretty lips around my dick?” he asked.

For a reason unknown, all you were able to mutter back was, “Namjoon.”

“Yes, baby?”

You gulped, and you looked up at him again. You didn’t watch as he took his pants and underwear off in the same motion, didn’t budge your gaze as you heard the slap of his hard dick on his abdomen. From the way his arm moved, large bicep popping slightly, you knew he was jerking off, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look down. Couldn’t bring yourself to gaze away from his eyes as they burned on you, searing their mark right on your soul.

“What is it?” he asked again, with a barely concealed warning in his voice.

He wasn’t one to have to repeat, was he? No, you were pretty sure Namjoon was used to being obeyed, with being the leader of a boyband like BTS. Pretty sure he expected to be obeyed, and somehow that turned you from puppet to puppeteer, as your hands rested on his thick, muscular thighs.

“You want me to suck your dick?” you asked, voice sultry as you moved your hands up, never touching him where he so visibly wanted.

His lips parted, though he remained surprisingly silent. He clearly didn’t expect you to take control of the situation, but from the way his features darkened even more, you knew he liked it.

“Want me to suck you dry?” you added. “Want to come down my throat?”

“Fuck,” he cursed, and he grabbed the base of his dick to gently tap it against the corner of your mouth. “Better get to work, baby. You’re a lot of talk for someone that hasn’t touched me yet.”

“Say please,” you teased, and you let one of your hands move between his legs so you could cup his balls. They sat heavy in your palm, seemingly ready to explode.

“Fuck,” he repeated, adding your name at the end. “Who would have thought you had this in you?”

 Emboldened by his words, you licked at his tip, collecting the precum on his slit. “That wasn’t please.”

He clenched his jaw, eyes shutting in frustration before he finally said, “Please, baby. Please suck my dick.”

You sucked on his tip once, tongue swirling around it, before pulling away. “Good boy.”

That was Namjoon’s undoing. He let go of his dick, grabbed your head, aligning his dick with your mouth as he repeatedly cursed under his breath. You liked him like this, liked the power you had over him. So you resisted, just to piss him off further, but it only seemed to turn him into a whiny mess as begging mixed with cursing.

                Only then did you finally start sucking him off, jaw straining from how big he was. It hurt, and your eyes watered as he reached the back of your throat with not even half of him in your mouth. All you could think of was that he was going to be quite a stretch down there, too, as you looked up at his features, casted in the soft silvery glow of the moon outside.

                You pulled almost all the way out, but the hand on the back of your head held you in place, forcing you to keep him in your mouth. You played with the head of his cock with your tongue, swirling it around it, teasing the slit as the salty taste of precum filled your mouth. You moaned, softly, and Namjoon cursed once more, before falling entirely silent as he watched you take as much of him as you could again.

Once he hit the back of your throat, you swallowed, eyes watering again as you tried to hold in your gag reflex. It didn’t really work, and when you choked, Namjoon pulled out of your mouth.

“You okay?” he asked.

“You’re so big,” you praised, and you grabbed his dick with a loose grip, jerking him off slowly. Mostly, you spread your saliva on his length, wanting to make sure he was well-lubricated for what was to come.

“Why don’t you sit?” you told him, letting go of his dick.

He looked conflicted for about a second before he did. You readjusted yourself so you were kneeling between his powerful thighs, and the new position allowed you to bite at the hard muscles of his abdomen. He hissed, hand going to the back of your head as he guided you towards his dick once more.

“Suck me, baby,” he said, still sounding just as whiny.

Feeling like a brat, you replied, “What do I get in exchange?”

His forehead creased as he furrowed his eyebrows, searching for something to reply. Though Namjoon was not a man of many words, always choosing his words carefully, right now, it seemed he was entirely silenced.

“I’ll fuck you good,” he finally answered, voice low. He bent a little, grabbing your face, and his thumbs stroked your cheeks. “I’ll fuck you good until your legs shake and you can’t walk anymore. Is that a good deal?”

You bit your lip as he let go of you, once again grabbing his dick so he could hold it up for you. Not moving towards it, you rested your head on his thigh, before reaching between his legs to cup his balls. They were heavy in your palm, and you gently massaged them, earning you a soft grunt from him.

“Careful with the balls,” he warned you.

You pouted before leaning between his legs. You avoided his waiting cock, instead aiming for the base of his dick, right between his two balls. You then licked a long stripe towards the top, and Namjoon cursed as you swirled your tongue on his frenulum.

“My bad,” you then apologized, letting go of his balls as you made a mental note that they probably were too sensitive for him to enjoy. “Let me make it up to you.”

He cocked an eyebrow in question, but the second your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock and you sucked hard, he threw his head back, cursing out loud. It finally convinced you to get to work, and you replaced his hand on his dick so you could jerk him off in time with the bobbing of your head.

As big as he was, you found you couldn’t keep going for much longer. So instead of taking all of him in – or as much of him as you could – you focused on his tip, jerking him off faster after having spit in your hand. Looking up at him, you noticed his teeth digging into his lower lip, a clear indication that he was enjoying himself, and then you closed your eyes, focusing on the job at hand.

Focusing on pleasuring Kim Namjoon.

You sucked him off for a while, long enough for his dick to turn rock hard under your ministrations. Long enough for him to be a panting and cursing mess, long enough for your jaw to hurt so bad you almost thought it was going to dislocate. When the pain grew too intense, you sat back on your heels, and stroked his dick, twisting your wrist as you reached the tip.

“So big I can’t even suck you properly,” you commented.

“I’ll stretch you wide open, baby,” he said, and he leaned back on his hands as he looked down at you. “I’ll stretch you so wide you’ll cry my name.”

It was so crass your hand slowed on his dick as you clenched your thighs. “Fuck, Namjoon.”

He smirked, dimples dangerously decorating his cheeks, but an expert motion of your hand had him close his eyes, mouth falling open on a low moan.

“Should I ride you?” you asked him. “I want to feel you inside of me.”

“You’ll need me to get you ready,” he answered once he was able to look at you again. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You almost wanted to tell him that you were going to be okay, but he wasn’t wrong. Fucking yourself on him without having been previously fingered would definitely hurt like a bitch.

“Ride my face?” he suggested as you debated what to do.

You wet your lips, desire pumping through your blood before you told him, “Lie down.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, and you quickly climbed on top of him, straddling his face. His large hands cupped your ass, squeezing and parting your cheeks as he licked a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. He flicked his tongue against the bundle of nerves, and you hissed, fingers getting lost in his hair as you pushed it out of his eyes.

You maintained eye contact as you lowered yourself on him until you were properly seated on his pretty features. His tongue parted your folds, dipping in your entrance, and you instinctively grinded. He pushed the wet muscle deep inside of you, as deep as he could before arching it, searching for your sweet spot.

When you let out a soft moan, he flicked at the same spot again, and you grinded into his face once more.

“Fuck,” you told him. “Right there.”

He understood right away, and he started fucking you with his tongue, hitting that same spot again and again, making the corners of your vision blurry. All you could focus on were his eyes between your legs, and you moaned his name as his fingers dug into the skin of your ass. It hurt a little, and you wondered for a time if he was unaware of his strength.

You wouldn’t be surprised – he was a lot stronger than you had imagined he was.

As Namjoon kept working on you, eating you out and lapping your juices, you palmed your breast, rolling the sensitive nipple between your thumb and index. The added sensation had more of your vision turning blurry, making it hard for you to focus on Namjoon. So you closed your eyes, focusing on the pleasure moving through you, and soon enough, a knot started tightening in your core.

Instinctively, you started grinding into his face, following the rhythm of his tongue inside of you, and the knot tightened and tightened, almost painfully so. When Namjoon landed a surprising slap on your ass, you lost it, knot snapping as your orgasm hit you.

You came hard, walls pulsating around Namjoon’s tongue, and he milked all of your orgasm out of you, lapping your juices as you dripped on him. When you started getting oversensitive, you moved to sit next to him instead. Namjoon didn’t move right away, catching his breath, but when he did move, it was to wipe his chin with the back of his hand. He sat up after that, catching your lips in a quick kiss that left you breathless, mind spinning with the taste of yourself.

“Now I’m going to fuck you,” Namjoon promised.

All you could do was moan as one of his large hands moved between your legs. He pushed two fingers in, and they slid right in with all the lubrication your orgasm had just brought out of you. He fingered you for a few seconds as he littered small kisses on your shoulder and up your neck, and he nibbled at your ear once he reached it.

“You’re going to take all of me, mmh?” he asked right in your ear, voice so low and husky your walls clenched around his fingers.

“Yes,” you answered.

He pulled away, smirking in satisfaction before saying, “Get on all fours. I want to look at your ass while I’m fucking you.”

“You’d like that?” you teased him. “You want to see my ass bounce while you pound into me?”

Your two sentences were enough to silence him once more, and all he managed to do in reply was nod. It made you chuckle, and before you got into position, you crawled to your bedside table, fishing a condom out of the half-empty box you owned from a previous relationship.

“Put this on,” you told Namjoon as you handed him the condom.

He looked down at your hand. “What size is that?”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Regular.”

He laughed before shaking his head at you. You were about to argue when he got up, moving to his discarded pants so he could grab his wallet. “I need bigger than that, baby,” he told you as an explanation, and you rolled your eyes playfully as you put the condom back in your bottom drawer.

Namjoon fished an appropriately-sized condom from his wallet, and he was quick to get it out of the wrapper and put it on his hard length. He hissed a little as he rolled it down his dick, but once it was in place he moved back to the bed, kneeling behind you as you propped your ass up, keeping your face down.

“Gosh, you’re so sexy like this,” he praised you. “Ever since he saw you again, I’ve been wanting to see you like this.”

A drop of warning clouded your senses for a few seconds, but when he rubbed his dick between your folds, pushing it against your clit, lust took over once more. You grabbed at the sheets as he teased the sensitive bundle of nerves again and again, and when you had enough, you cursed.

“Fuck me,” you told him. “Fuck me before I change my mind.”

He slapped your ass. “You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?”

Before you could reply, he pushed the fat tip of his cock between your folds, and you moaned at the burning sensation. It was the good kind of burning, the one that left stars dancing behind your eyelids and on the periphery of your vision. It made you clutch the sheets harder, and then Namjoon pushed in, embedding himself deep inside of you.

He grabbed your hips, fingers digging into the supple skin so hard you were pretty sure they were going to leave marks behind, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. All you did was moan loudly, especially as he pulled almost all the way out before slapping his hips forward again.

It was rough, and your body jerked forward from the impact of his pelvis on your ass. You couldn’t think, couldn’t feel anything other than the stretch between your legs, and when he started pounding into you, you felt him so deep you cried out his name.

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged you. “You take me so well.”

He slightly slowed down, but his hips still snapped forward in quick and harsh thrusts as he leaned forward, adjusting the position. When he was satisfied by the new angle, he resumed his previous speed, as one of his hands grabbed at your hair, pulling it in a makeshift ponytail so he could keep you in place.

He didn’t pull on your hair harder than that, didn’t force you look back at him, and for a moment, all that could be heard in the room was the sound of skin slapping on skin, and the moans and grunts you two were making. It was loud, and you were glad you lived in a house and not an apartment – you were pretty sure your neighbours would have heard otherwise.

When Namjoon landed another slap on your ass, you cursed loudly, and it made him still halfway out of you. He massaged the spot gently, soothing the skin with his warm fingers. “Do you want to switch position?” he asked.

As much as the current position felt good, you knew this angle would never make you cum. So you nodded your head, and Namjoon pulled out of you, sitting back on his heels. You turned towards him, and your eyes fell to his hardened length. To your juice coating the condom, and you got an idea.

“Lean back on your hands,” you ordered.

He cocked an eyebrow in question, yet he still obeyed. When he was properly positioned, you climbed on top of him, grabbing his cock to guide it towards your entrance. You help onto his shoulder with your other hand, and you slowly sunk on him until his cock hit your cervix. It hurt a little, the angle different from earlier yet making you feel so much more, and you grabbed onto his other shoulder.

“Shit,” you cursed.

“You okay?”

You nodded. “You’re so fucking deep.” And then you leaned back a little, and both of your gazes dropped to the space where your bodies were connected. To the bulge in your tummy as you slightly leaned back. “So fucking big we can see you in me.”

He moaned and threw his head back as you moved up, only to slam back down a second later. He put all of his weight on one hand, and his other settled on your waist, following you as you established a slow and sensual rhythm, rolling your hips whenever he was deep inside of you. It had his big cock rubbing against that sweet spot inside of you, and when the corners of your vision turned white, you started moving faster.

You grabbed onto his neck, not squeezing, and you felt him swallow under your palm. Your pleasure increased tenfold as the hand on your waist moved to cup your breast, and when he squeezed your nipple, you clenched your walls hard against his dick.

“Fuck,” he let out, and he looked at you.

The moment his gaze met yours, you started choking him, increasing your speed to chase your orgasm. His mouth fell open, and his dick reached deep inside of you as you kept going, kept splitting yourself on him.

When your orgasm hit, you wrapped an arm around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder. He circled your waist, fucking up into you as much as he could in this position. He rode you through your high, and you were a shaking mess when he finally slowed down, hand rubbing your back soothingly.

“Lie down for me,” he gently said.

You were too lost in ecstasy to argue, and you craved his dick the second it was out of your pussy. He wasn’t out for long, and he kneeled between your legs, holding them to his chest as he pushed in in one powerful thrust. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head with the sensation, and you moaned out his name as he established an unforgiving rhythm.

When his teeth sunk into your calf in a clear attempt to muffle his own moans, you clenched hard around him, and it was enough to get him close. To your surprise, he pulled out of you, quickly taking off the condom, and he pumped his dick, emptying his load on your stomach and pelvis. The feeling of every hot spurt on you had you reach between you, and when some landed on your fingers, you quickly brought them to your mouth, getting a taste of him.

Namjoon grunted, and he slowly decreased the rhythm of his jerking off until he was just holding his dick over you, one last drop of cum meeting the rest on your stomach. You didn’t move for a long time, both of you trying to catch your breath. It took a while, but once your pulse had stopped racing, you propped yourself up on your elbows, looking at the white mess on your stomach.

“You made quite a mess,” you teased him.

“Sorry,” he sheepishly said. “Was that okay?”

You nodded. “As long as you clean it up, yes.”

He laughed, bending so he could retrieve some tissues from your nightstand. He first cleaned his fingers, and then your stomach, making sure not to leave a single drop behind. Still, you felt sticky, and when you offered him to take a shower, he agreed right away.

You let the warm water run on your body, taking with it your sweat and Namjoon’s cum, as you ran your hands through your hair. You sighed, opening your eyes to the sight of him as he looked down at you, a fond smile on his lips.

“Can you pass me the shampoo?”

He nodded, but instead of giving it to you, he motioned for you to turn. “I’ll wash your hair.”

The domesticity of the action had your cheeks burning, and all you could do was hope he hadn’t noticed. You still turned, and when he started massaging your head, you shut your eyes, sighing in contentment. When he was done, he made you turn around so he could wash the shampoo out of your hair, making sure you didn’t get any in your eyes. After that, you switched place so he could wash his own hair, while you busied yourself with cleaning your body, erasing what was left of the action that had transpired between you and Kim Namjoon.

You didn’t speak more in the shower, though you did exchange a slow kiss once you were both entirely clean. Namjoon’s lips seemed more hesitant now, but as you wrapped your arms around his waist, it was his turn to sigh in contentment. His kiss grew more affirmative now, as if he was trying to tell you that he, too, felt a certain way with you.

Because right now, you felt like you were floating, like you were an astronaut in zero gravity. It was dizzying, but in a beautiful way as you held onto him, and he held onto you. It was filled with memories of the past, yes, but also of promises of the future.

That was when you remembered what he had said right before you had started having sex. How he had been imagining you like this ever since you had met again, thirteen years after you’d disappeared from his life. The previous wariness returned, and you pulled away from the kiss to rest your forehead on his chest. He let you do it, unaware of the drop of doubt that was solidifying into lead in your stomach.

After the shower, you lied in bed, Namjoon by your side, unable to form a sentence. Unable to breathe your worries into words, unable to share with Namjoon that you were afraid he only wanted you for sex. And you tried, you really tried to speak, but all you could do was slowly breathe in and out, trying to calm your racing heart before it burst inside your chest.

Right when you thought you had gathered enough courage, Namjoon softly snored next to you, and you realized that, after all, it was too late to share your concerns.

*****

                You stared at the scenery out of the window. You hadn’t been to Ilsan in a long time, but when Namjoon had mentioned he was going to visit his family, offering you a ride – a company official ride, considering he couldn’t drive – you hadn’t been able to say no. So you watched Ilsan from the window of your parents’ kitchen, remembering growing up.

Remembering days of childhood innocence, and of teenager crushes. Of teenager fights, and breakups that had shaped who you had turned out to be. It was strange to think that you were going to circle your way back to Namjoon, that you were going to come here to Ilsan, with him.

You hadn’t told your parents. When they had seen you arrive, they had asked how you had gotten here, considering your car was nowhere to be seen. You had lied through your teeth, saying that you had taken the train, and they hadn’t pushed, knowing that you indeed often took the train anyway, in an attempt to clear your head and sketch some ideas for your next art piece.

Instead, you had been at the back of a company car, chatting the ride away with Kim Namjoon as if it wasn’t only the tenth time you had seen him again after your breakup thirteen years ago. It was like you had never parted – complicity between Kim Namjoon and you was easy as breathing, as natural as the sun shining in the sky overhead. And the sun had shone all the way home, as if to tell you that your worries meant nothing.

But your worries were still haunting you. Hadn’t stopped haunting you since you had sex with him, chasing you through your days, taunting you through your nights. You weren’t able to escape them, especially not as he acted the way that he did.

That is, as if you were far closer than you were. As if the years hadn’t come and gone, as if thirteen years had been just the blink of an eye. It was strange to you, stranger still, that whenever you were with him, you tended to forget too. Tended to bask in his warmth, and it was no wonder your relationship was so physical.

Indeed, sometimes you even thought that it was all there was. Because each time you had seen him after your date had been physical, his body on top of yours as he fucked your brains out. As you climbed on top in an attempt to gain control, but you doubted you’d ever have the control when it came to Kim Namjoon.

So you looked outside the kitchen window, trying to remember who you were. Trying to remember what you wanted, and trying to figure out what you should eat for dinner later.

You were here for four days, and though you had brought supplies so you could paint here, hoping your childhood home would bring you inspiration, all you had been able to do was worry about Kim Namjoon and what he meant in your life.

You weren’t sure it mattered. Because even though your relationship was purely physical, it still brought you satisfaction. Always left you swimming in ecstasy, always made you sleep soundly for a few days.

It had been weeks since your date. Almost two months, actually. Namjoon had texted you regularly, though the conversation never really delved into subjects that mattered. He was too busy to hang out often, but he made you feel as if he was making time for you. Yet you couldn’t shake what he had said out of your mind.

Did you want to just be someone Kim Namjoon saw when he needed to fuck? When he needed to paint himself on you, to bring more confusion into the mess of art your mind had been since the date?

The answer was easy. No, you didn’t wish to be just that. You’d never been one to have fuck buddies, and every time you saw Namjoon, the impression was reinforced. Perhaps because he made small comments, about how he was glad he could fuck you, glad you were in his bed.

Glad you moaned out his name whenever you came, and evidently, he made you come plenty enough. But yet you needed more, and you hated yourself for it.

Why complicate something that was so easy? So you remained silent, never said anything, though you did hold onto him as much as you could when you slept in his arms, trying to remind yourself that if he just wanted sex, he wouldn’t sleep over, or ask you to stay.

Would he have offered to drive you to Ilsan if you were nothing to him? You highly doubted so. Especially considering how he had talked to you, how comfortable he was next to you.

You sighed, looking away from the window as you turned towards the living room. Your father was napping on the couch, and your mother had gone to the market, declining your offer to come with as she had claimed you needed to work on your paintings.

You had been staring at the canvas for an hour before you had come to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, and you had already finished it as you had watched the world outside the kitchen window, lost in thought. You figured taking a walk would help clear your mind, and you hoped you’d find inspiration by the time you were back home.

Though the weather was warmer outside than it was weeks ago, when you had your date with Namjoon, you still wrapped a thick scarf around your neck, burying yourself in the warm coat you had brought here. You put on your Chelsea boots, and the minute you stepped outside, you loosened the scarf.

The air smelled fresh and hinted at spring. There was no snow, most of it having melted under the peculiar warmth, and by the time you made it to the end of the street, you unzipped your coat too, feeling too hot.

You turned to your left, bowing your head slightly at the older couple that you passed. They reciprocated, but you didn’t pay attention to them more than necessary as you walked towards the park behind your middle school. The middle school where you and Namjoon had first fallen in love when you were dumb and young.

Ten minutes later, the building came into view, and memories swarmed in, chasing Namjoon out of your thoughts. Well, chasing current Namjoon out of your thoughts as you remembered your classes, and the teacher that you had always hated. As you remembered sitting on the bleachers of the soccer field, chatting the evening away when you were supposed to be home.

It was no surprise that you found yourself making your way to those bleachers, and you sat as high as you could, eyeing the empty field. It was the middle of the week, and the soccer field was empty save for birds searching for worms in the wet grass.

You leaned back on your hands so you could look up, gazing at the few clouds in the sky. Wind played with your hair, blowing it in your face, but you ignored it, focusing on the fresh air. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you inhaled deeply.

You were calm and content... until you let out a startled cry as someone said your name. Your eyes flew open to the sight of Kim Namjoon at the bottom of the bleachers, looking up at you.

“You scared the shit out of me,” you told him, hand on your racing heart. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just out on a walk,” he informed you. “Didn’t expect to run into you.”

He walked up the bleachers, sitting next to you before you replied. “Your parents are bothering you?” you teased, gently nudging him.

“Nah,” he said, laughing. “I’ve been songwriting since I got here? Can’t get this song right, so I decided to walk. Thought it’d help clear my mind.”

Of course, he was out and about for the same reason as you. Because you and Kim Namjoon were far more similar than you wanted to believe it. Sometimes, it led you to think that you were two of the same person, and usually, whenever you thought that you had to rein yourself in, reminding yourself that all he did with you was have sex.

“Couldn’t paint,” you admitted.

“Your parents are bothering you?” he asked, repeating your question with a corner smile and a single dimple.

This time, you pushed him, laughing before replying, “You’re annoying.”

He grinned, though you both fell silent as your gazes moved up to the sky, and you enjoyed the afternoon warmth. You knew the night would get cold, but you still had a few more hours of sunlight before the world gave way to darkness.

“You know,” he said as your eyes chased a white cloud on the cerulean expanse of the sky. “I was hoping we could hang out, while we’re here?”

He said it like a question, as if asking for permission, and it had your heart race in your chest. “Aren’t you afraid of your parents asking questions?”

“Not really,” he answered. “They know that you came with me. They want me to invite you over for dinner.”

Your gaze widened as it dropped to him. He was already looking at you, a small, hopeful smile on his lips. “Is that something that we’re supposed to be doing?” you enquired.

It seemed to take him by surprise. “What do you mean?”

You reckoned now was a good time as any to voice your concerns. Perhaps because the scene was familiar, safe, and you couldn’t deal with the concern gnawing at your nerves anymore.

“What are we, exactly?” you said, softly, finally giving voice to the worries.

Namjoon’s eyes went round as blush crept on his cheeks. “What?”

The drop of lead from that first date grew inside of you. “It’s just… we’ve only been hanging out for sex, correct?”

“Is that what it is for you?” he enquired after a few seconds of silence, of him just watching you with a somber expression.

You chuckled awkwardly. “To be entirely honest, I don’t do this. So no, I’d hope it’s not that, but…” you trailed off, eyes falling to the field in front of you. “You haven’t really made me feel like you’re in this for more than just sex.”

He leaned forward as if trying to gain your attention. As your gaze remained stubbornly on the empty field, he said your name once. His voice was soft, gentle, and that, more than anything, made you turn to look at him.

“I thought we were… dating?” he admitted. “I… I’m sorry if I just… assumed?”

It was such a Namjoon thing to do that you couldn’t even blame him. His revelation made the lead melt away to be replaced by a sweet warmth much like the one the sun rays carried. “Oh?”

As you didn’t say anything else, Namjoon straightened, putting a little distance between the two of you. “Unless that’s not what you want?”

In truth, yes, it probably was what you had been wanting since the beginning. Since he had arrived at your house with the flowers before the date, and since his lips had found yours for the first time again after thirteen years apart. You had been wanting him, more than just physically.

“I mean…” You chuckled awkwardly again, shrugging your shoulders. “Yes, that’s what I want.”

He grinned, dimples flashing blindingly, even more so than the sun in the sky up above. “Good. So you’ll come over for dinner?”

This time you laughed, and you cocked an eyebrow. “With just a few hours notice?”

“Yeah?” He shrugged. “My parents already know you, what does it change?”

And when you held his soft gaze, you decided why not? Why not dive in feet first, and not care about the consequences?

You doubted there’d be anything negative to come out of a dinner with Namjoon’s parents. And turned out you were right – both of them were happy to see you, and Namjoon’s mom kept repeating how proud she was that Namjoon had found you again, in Seoul. To Namjoon’s dismay, she told you about just how much Namjoon had cried after your breakup, and about how much it had encouraged him to become a rapper. Namjoon was red up to the tip of his ears as you looked at him, yet he didn’t scold his mother, didn’t tell her to stop.

And this, most of all, was the Namjoon you remembered from thirteen years ago. A shy, sweet boy who was always good to his elders, always polite and ready to help. He did help his mother, doing the dishes along with you after you’d eaten, and when it was time for you to leave, his father scolded him and told him to walk you home.

Namjoon grumbled that he was already going to do so, and you said your goodbyes to his parents before walking out into the night. It was a lot colder than it had been during the day, and you buried your hands in the pockets of your coat as you walked close to Namjoon, his arm brushing yours with every step that you took.

“Sorry about that,” Namjoon apologized.

You glanced up at him, gazing at the aura around his head caused by the streetlight behind him. “About what?”

He shrugged. “The dinner. I didn’t expect my parents to be weird about it.”

“They weren’t,” you reassured him. You walked in silence for a time, eyes moving back to the street in front of you. It was empty, even though it wasn’t particularly late at night. Perhaps it rendered you bolder, because you said, “I’m really happy I said yes. I missed them.”

He smiled, softly. “They missed you too.”

A comfortable silence moved between you, and you basked in it as you made your way home, with your teenage lover by your side. It was hard to believe that he was next to you right now, and just like that, you knew what you were going to paint when you were home.

“The night is beautiful,” Namjoon said softly. “Makes it feel like we never left, you know?”

“Like it hasn’t been thirteen years, right?”

He nodded. “The weight of the years does feel lesser since we’ve reconnected.”

His words had warmth blossom in your chest, heating up your body in the cold early spring night. They had you glance at him, and when you found him already looking at you, you stopped. He stopped just a step ahead of you, turning to look at you.

“Do you think we were just right people, wrong time?” you asked. “I’ve been thinking… it’s been so easy with you, since our date. It’s strange to believe that it would be, no?”

“The years haven’t changed us as much as you’d imagined they would,” he agreed. “Like…” he glanced up at the sky, searching for words to voice his feelings. “BTS came into my life after you. I’d say it changed me, made me grow up far faster than I thought I would. Being the leader and all, I had a lot of responsibilities on me, you know?”

You nodded, not really knowing where he was going.

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to be the leader,” he continued, revealing something you weren’t sure he had said out loud to anyone before. “I wish I didn’t have this weight on me and… in November, when I saw you again, I was going through a hard time. I didn’t entirely recognize you at first, but I was drawn to your gallery again and… I tried to find a reason to visit. To find a reason to talk to you.”

His eyes met yours again, and you almost balked at the intensity of his gaze.

“I felt lighter with you than I’d felt in years. So, when you say right people, wrong time, I think you’re right. I think thirteen years ago was all fucked up for us, but I think we were always meant to find each other again, through all the craziness of the world.”

You didn’t hesitate. You grabbed the lapels of his coat, pulling him down in a kiss. He kissed you back instantly, though his lips were slow against yours. Soft, anchoring you in this moment, in this space that had used to be yours when you were younger. He kissed you like time had slowed for you, like you had all night to stay right here, in this spot.

Your heart found a soothing rhythm in your chest, one echoed in his own ribcage, and his large hands found your waist to pull you closer. When he slipped his tongue in your mouth, you sighed dreamily, the taste of him so heavenly now that the lead in your stomach was gone that you thought you were going to start flying right here, right now.

Namjoon pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, and your breaths moved up in the sky, forming a single cloud over your heads.

“Had I known that you were worried I wasn’t into you like this, I wouldn’t have had sex with you every time we hung out,” he admitted, softly.

That, more than anything else, finished reassuring you.

“Hey,” you let out. “It’s okay. I should have spoken to you about it before.”

He pecked your lips once more before pulling away. He offered you his hand, and you gently took it as he smiled at you, his dimples so familiar on his cheeks that you wanted to drown in him.

“Let’s get you home,” he said. “I wouldn’t want your parents to worry.”

“I��m an adult now,” you reminded him, earning a laugh as he pulled you towards your house.

He shrugged. “They are still your parents; they’ll always worry for you.”

His words held truth, so you didn’t resist as he finished walking you home. You stood in front of the gate, looking at each other, and Namjoon gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers grazed down your face until they rested on your jaw, and he leaned down to press another gentle kiss on your lips, one that had you wish you didn’t have to part with him for the night.

One day, you liked to believe you wouldn’t have to part at all.

*****

                Being in a relationship with Kim Namjoon was easy. The weeks following your trip to Ilsan had you growing ever so closer, and you accompanied him to a dinner with all of his members. There, you saw what it meant for him to be the leader, but you kept your hand in his, bearing the weight of it along with him, even though it wasn’t like he had to keep them in check in private.

You had left early as you needed to go to your studio early in the morning, but had been unable to part with Namjoon, which wasn’t all that surprising to you or him. You both liked sharing a bed, liked the closeness that it allowed you. So you stayed the night, and the next day you made your way to your studio level-headed, ready to paint all day after your meeting with your manager. Your phone was dead, but you knew she wasn’t one to miss a meeting, and you figured you could always charge your phone when you got to the studio.

To your surprise, Sooah wasn’t alone when you got there. There was a suit-clad man, and he bowed his head at you respectfully as you walked in. You threw a curious look to Sooah, and the expression on her face made your heart drop to your ass, if that was possible.

“Hi,” the man politely said. “I’m glad you’ve finally showed up.”

He sounded annoyed, and it grated your nerves right away. You cocked an eyebrow before saying, “To whom do I owe the pleasure?”

“I am Jo Jonghyuk,” he answered, offering his hand for you to shake. “Hybe representative.”

You let out a nervous chuckle. “What’s bringing you here?

Sooah was the one to answer. “There’s been leaked pictures of you and Namjoon,” she informed you carefully. “They are… all over the media this morning.”

A drop of cold sweat rolled down your spine. “Excuse me?”

You hadn’t noticed it before, but the man had a briefcase. He quickly opened it, getting a stack of papers out of it that he handed to you unceremoniously. You looked at them, eyes widening as you saw the series of pictures, all of them of you and Namjoon.

And your face was far too recognizable. You couldn’t pretend it wasn’t you, couldn’t pretend you had no idea what the man was talking about. So when he asked if there was a space where you could sit down to discuss, you let Sooah suggest heading downstairs. You followed them with fear in your gut, and even when you were sitting on the couches downstairs, you still couldn’t stop your heart from racing in your chest.

“So,” the man said. “We’re aware that our artists have lives outside of the company.” He paused, watching you carefully. “But we need to preserve their image. I’m sure you can understand?”

Sooah saved you by replying. “What is that supposed to mean for Y/n?”

“Namjoon is currently in a meeting with other representatives. He will be asked the same thing as you,” the man offered as an explanation.

You cocked an eyebrow. “And what is it that I’m going to be asked?”

“Keep the relationship behind closed doors.” The man motioned around you. “As an artist, I’m sure you understand how one’s image is important. The stocks are going to be impacted if it is said that Kim Namjoon is in a relationship, and not for the better. We are going to release a statement later in the day to refute the rumours.”

It wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be, yet you still felt sick, down to your very core. “And this needed an early morning meeting?”

You’d like to think that you sounded arrogant, defiant, but your voice was filled with nerves, shaking pathetically.

The man offered you a polite smile. “No. I’m here to have you sign an NDA.”

That made more sense. And still, it wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be – it wasn’t like you were going to scream about your relationship with Namjoon. After all, it still was fairly new, and you also wanted to preserve your anonymity.

In that instant, as the man pulled out said NDA from his briefcase, you understood something. Your anonymity was gone, gone like the winds of winter as the world outside slowly turned to spring.

Your face was visible in the pictures. People had seen you around the gallery, outside of official events, when you wore your mask.

You signed with a trembling hand, barely recognizing your own name on the paper, and the man offered you a copy of it before saying that he had to go. He thanked you for your cooperation on the way out, and when he was gone, disappearing at the bend in the street, you turned towards Sooah.

“I’m fucked,” you said.

She pursed her lips, concern moving on her features. “You are not. There’s no indication that people will associate you with Maehwa. I don’t think this will affect the gallery.”

You shook your head. “You don’t understand.” You scoffed, gaze dropping to the floor as the lead you had felt after your first date with Namjoon rematerialized, turning into a reality you didn’t think you were ready to gaze at. “It’s just a matter of time. His fandom discovers everything. They will know it’s me.”

“Then we’ll use it as publicity.”

Your eyes widened as you looked at your manager. “You can’t be serious.”

“Your art is beautiful,” she reminded you. “You’ve been building your reputation for years. Why would you being a human, having relationships, impact it?” She paused as if to give weight to her question. “It’s just going to put emphasis to the emotion in your art. People won’t see you as a masked individual anymore, but rather as the person behind the artist.”

You didn’t want to hear her. Knew she was being rational, yet couldn’t bear the truth in her words. Perhaps because you had always loved your anonymity. Always wanted to keep it, to use it to protect yourself from the world of fame, a world you had never wanted for yourself.

No, you just wanted to make art. To enjoy the science behind the pieces, the emotions that made you create. You were afraid it was going to be taken from you now. And who were you to blame? It was just a question of time before people connected the dots between you and Namjoon, thanks to the pictures, yes, but also to the interview that had yet to be released.

“Deep breaths,” Sooah said calmly, cutting through your spiraling. “I promise it’ll be okay.”

“What if it’s not?” you asked. “What if I can’t paint anymore?”

“You’ve been painting your whole life,” she reminded you. “You won’t suddenly stop because of rumours about you.”

See, that was the logical way to think about it. You clung to the words, held them close to your heart and let them replay in your head. It eased the anxiety that was building inside of you, and soon enough, your frantic breathing returned to normal.

“Shit.”

Sooah raised her eyebrows, waiting to make sure your spiraling truly was over. When you didn’t say anything else, she nodded once, patting you on the shoulder. “It’s all going to work out. And besides, congrats on your relationship with Namjoon?”

She said it like a question because, frankly, you hadn’t told Miyoung or Sooah a lot about you and Namjoon, except that you were taking things slow. It was the best you had been able to come up with, back when you thought he was only seeking carnal union with you, and you hadn’t changed the narrative after you and Namjoon had made it official in Ilsan.

And later, as you worked on the painting you had started in Ilsan, you pictured the cold night, when he had kissed you under the streetlamps. When you had realized that you had truly been wrong all along, that life was a cycle bringing you back to him. Back to where it had all started. You remembered his soft lips on yours, and that, most of all, finished calming you down from the anxiety.

Every stroke of your brush on the canvas, every new line, meant a thousand words, as you painted. As you created art from nothing but the memories your art held, as you put them together to form the image that had come to you that cold night. It was beautiful, in a heavy kind of way, because the emotions were heavy. The love, the recognition and the knowledge of life and the cycle of it, all entwined together to form something that only you and Namjoon could understand.

And as you worked, forgetting all about the world outside, all about the threat to your anonymity, you believed everything was going to be alright…

Almost.

*****

                “Thank you,” you thanked the young girls after they were done perusing your gallery.

It had taken all but a few hours for your artist self to be associated with Kim Namjoon and your gallery. On the same day, you had received more visitors than you had ever had, and though you had donned your mask, you knew it was pointless.

Knew from the looks and the whispers that people knew. Still, for the next following days, you kept wearing your mask. Kept trying to ignore how people weren’t here for your art anymore, but rather for you as a person. For your connection to Kim Namjoon, for what you meant to him and what he meant to you.

Namjoon had been understanding when you had told him how anxious the situation was making you. Had suggested avoiding public spaces altogether, and so far, you had only been able to see him once for dinner two days ago.

The dinner had been spent in far more silence than usual, while you both contemplated what this meant for you. You had settled on really taking it slow, letting the rumours die of their own volution instead of doing more about them. Because Hybe had released a statement, and already Dispatch was on the newest rumour, forgetting all about your possible connection with Kim Namjoon.

Except for the fans, that is. Because the fans came to your gallery, complimented your art, though you did see them snickering in your back. Before, you had believed you were above this, above petty gossiping and jealous bullying, especially coming from younger people. After all, younger people were that – young, and youth often held an amount of stupidity that was rarely found elsewhere.

As it had been the case for you and Namjoon, thirteen years ago.

Still, you found you were increasingly anxious, and instead of expecting Namjoon’s next message, his next call, you started dreading them. It was vicious, poisoning your blossoming relationship without him even being aware of it.

How could you blame him? He was used to this life, after all.

You sighed in your mask, hating the way your eyes burned. They burned more now that you wore the mask more often, drying out whenever you breathed out too strongly. You had gotten artificial tears, and you couldn’t wait to be able to lubricate your eyes as you watched the last few people milling about your gallery.

It was almost closing time, and you were looking forward to it more than you usually did. Mostly because you wanted to bask in calmness and silence for a while, if only to be able to get a grip on the anxiety.

Two older women approached you, hands behind their backs, where you stood by the big painting of Ilsan. They bowed politely, and to your relief, asked you if one of the pieces was for sale. Art enthusiasts, then. It was reassuring to see some of them in your gallery, even after all the recent events.

“Yes,” you answered them politely. “It’s currently on auction for the month. You can put in your own bid if you’d like.”

The smallest one pursed her lips, tilting her head to the side. “How expensive was the last bid?”

Even though this was supposed to be Sooah’s job, you still had access to the app where the bidding took place. So you took your phone out of your pocket, heart dropping in your chest when the screen lit up to show you three texts from Namjoon. You ignored them, swiping the phone open before clicking on the app.

As it loaded, you looked up to smile at the women. “Just a moment.”

They nodded in understanding, yet one of them looked over her shoulder as if annoyed. You felt bad, but it wasn’t like you controlled the technology. All you could do was wait, and the second the app opened, you scrolled down to the current bidding.

You hadn’t checked it since the bidding had started. Lowest bid had been set at 5 million won, but right now, the number you were reading on the screen didn’t even make any sense.

“Huh,” you let out, and you looked at the women, chuckling awkwardly. “It seems the bid for this piece has gone out of the roof.”

That was putting it lightly. Because, looking at the amount on your phone, you believed the bid had been sent to outer orbit.

The smaller woman winced. “How high?”

“1.2 billion won,” you replied. You checked your phone to make sure and even showed the screen to them.

“Oh,” she said. “We can’t afford that.”

You offered them an apologetic smile. “I have more pieces that are on sale and not on auction if you want me to show you.”

The one that seemed like she wanted to leave suddenly widened her gaze. “Oh, that would be lovely.”

They ended up buying a smaller drawing, saying that they were sure the value of it would skyrocket if they ever wanted to sell it. You wanted to tell them that it probably was just a bubble caused by the rumour and that it’d soon burst. Evidently, you couldn’t tell them that, both because of the NDA and because you were growing tongue-tied with the praise they were sending your way. Instead, all you did was offer them a wink, saying that you hoped they’d hold onto it dearly, and then you walked them to the door as it was closing time anyway.

When the door was locked behind them, you leaned against it, sighing shakily. With trembling hands, you fished your phone out of your pocket, and you went through the different pieces you had on auction. Half of the profits were going to a charity for abused women, and still, it’d leave you with much more money than you ever thought you’d own.

You called Sooah, but it was her day off. You didn’t expect her to pick up, as she had told you she was going to be busy tonight, and of course, she didn’t. You still sent her a text to tell her to check the auction app, and then you pushed up from the door, heading to your studio downstairs.

You sat cross-legged on the floor, amidst the brushes and pots of paint you had left hanging around, not really caring about cleaning after yourself when you were in the arms of inspiration. But right now, the mess was making you feel like an imposter, like people would soon find out that you weren’t worth it.

It was then that you finally checked what Namjoon had sent you.

I hope all is well, his first message read. It was followed by, I’ll be in the studio until later tonight, but would you like to hang out after? Finally, his last message was, I’m going to come over to your studio after closing hour with take-out

For some reason, the thought of him coming here made you want to disappear through the floor, but it was already too late. Indeed, your phone started vibrating in your hand with an upcoming call, and his name on the screen taunted you, telling you that, yes, you were just an imposter.

You picked up, hands shaking slightly as you brought the phone to your ear.

“Busy night,” Namjoon said as a greeting.

You let out a shaky breath. “Yeah. You’re on your way?”

“I’m outside,” he admitted. “Just waiting for some people to walk away before I come in. I assume it’s locked?”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “I’ll come open for you.”

There was an awkward silence as if he expected you to say something more. When you didn’t, he said, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied, and cringed at yourself. You weren’t a liar, hated lying, and lying to him felt like you were eating something foul. “Just tired.”

“Well, I hope you’re excited for some take-out. I got your favourite.”

Now, your heart ached in your chest. Because that was Namjoon. Namjoon would always get your favourite food, would always know what to do to cheer you up. Tonight, it felt wrong, as if you didn’t deserve it.

And really, did you deserve it at all? Did you deserve the attention that he had brought to you? Did you deserve the shine in the spotlight?

You highly doubted so.

Walking upstairs felt like a trek to the top of Mount Everest. You were aware that it was anxiety, that you probably shouldn’t listen to the thoughts right now. But they were taunting you, haunting you, a thousand little ghosts spinning around your head in dizzying circles until all that was left was a broken piece of you.

The sight of Namjoon, hood up and mask on, on the other side of the door wasn’t a relief. It was a hand clutching your throat, choking you up until you were left gasping for air on the ground. You stalled for a few seconds, and you wondered if he could feel your hesitancy. If he knew the spirals you had been going down, if he knew you were questioning everything.

You clenched your jaw, sighed deeply, and somehow a small spark of light split the darkness. Because this was Namjoon. This was the same Namjoon as a decade ago. The first boy you had ever loved – could he still really just be that today?

Finally, you walked over to the door, unlocked it and opened it for him. His dragon eyes were unreadable, but they were questioning. You felt as if they were asking questions to your soul directly and, ever bared in front of him, you were pretty sure your soul was answering.

“Hey baby,” he greeted you as he walked in, and you quickly shut the door and locked it behind him.

“Hi,” you said, voice vulnerable in the midst of your anxiety.

“You’ve been busy?” he asked, the soothing tone of his voice dragging a gentle hand on your back, telling you that maybe, maybe if you could let go of the anxiety, everything would be okay.

But could you, when its talons had sunk so deep into your heart you couldn’t quite tell if it was still beating?

“Yeah,” you answered. “I’ve been working on a piece and… didn’t see the time fly.”

He nodded understandingly. “Of course. That’s why I brought food.”

And that was how you found yourself sitting next to him on the couch in your studio, eyes trailing to your piece of art. You wondered if he could see your anxiety in the swirls of darker colours on the canvas. Could he tell you were haunted?

Could he be the solution?

“I think my album is going to be good,” he said as he swallowed the fried chicken he was eating. “You’re going to love it.”

You pursed your lips, not willing to tell him that you’d always loved whatever he made, even back then. “Of course.”

He flashed you a smile, but you could see that it wasn’t quite reaching his eyes. He didn’t say anything though, and you both finished eating in silence. When you were done, Namjoon sat back in the couch, letting out a long sigh as one of his hands gently landed on your thigh. You immediately tensed, and his hand slid away, fingers flexing as if they wished they could hold onto you, but knew it was best not to.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, his deep voice surrounding you, echoes reverberating through the fabric of your soul.

Could you tell him? Could you be honest with Kim Namjoon, or would it make him run away?

A scary thought formed in your mind, coming from the dirtiest part of your soul. Would it be better if he ran away?

“A lot,” you admitted, unable to hide the truth from him. “Quite a lot.”

You met his gaze for a few seconds before finding solace in your painting again.

“You know you can talk to me,” he gently said.

“I know.”

But you couldn’t. You didn’t want to have to tell him that this was all too much for you. That it was too quick, that you felt like you were stuck in a train aiming for a wall at top speed.

“I’m sorry,” he said after the silence had stretched so much, you thought it was about to rip the fabric of reality itself.

“What for?” you asked, genuinely wondering.

He leaned his elbows on his knees, pulling at some calluses on his palm that he got from working out without gloves on. “We haven’t really talked about the rumours.”

You hadn’t. Hadn’t even mentioned anything once, preferring to act as if it had never happened. Foolishly, you’d hoped that it would preserve your anonymity, even after it was gone. Even after the first fans stepped foot in your gallery, even after you’d seen articles about you in the press.

“Yeah.”

“Is that what’s on your mind?” he asked, and he turned his head towards you.

From this angle, it was entirely too hard to avoid his gaze. Instead, you latched onto it, hoping it would make everything better.

“It might be,” you said. You sighed, wetting your lips before you added, “It is.”

“How have you been feeling?”

You weren’t sure there was a way to answer the question. Because you didn’t want him to know just how bad the anxiety had gotten, didn’t want him to know that your life changing so much in such a short amount of time was the scariest thing that had ever happened to you.

“Stressed,” you answered, deciding to use a lesser word in the hope that it wouldn’t hurt him too much. “Especially now that the anonymity is gone.”

He nodded. “I was expecting that to happen.”

You cocked an eyebrow, but found yourself unable to say anything else.

“I’m sorry I took that away from you,” he murmured, and a flash of pain in his eyes told you that he really was.

That Kim Namjoon felt guilty when it came to you, more than he had probably ever felt guilty about anything in life.

“You didn’t mean to,” you reassured him. Because it was the truth – you couldn’t be angry at him for what had happened. You had been part of it just as much as him.

“But it’s still my fault,” he added. “It’s because of me if the media has been after you.”

“It’s not because of you.” You paused, searching for the right words to convey the meaning you wanted. “It’s not you as a person, but rather what you mean to the world.”

You slightly winced, convinced that you had somehow landed on the wrong words after all.

“Possibly,” he said. He sighed, before once again sitting back on the couch. His fingers twitched before he clenched them on his thighs, visibly resisting the urge to do something.

To touch you, you assumed.

“Possibly,” he repeated. “But it’s hard to separate the person that I am from the person that I mean to others. To me, it’s just me, both of these.”

You nodded, because you already knew that. Namjoon was authentic through and through, with everything that he did and was. With every single one of his words – he was a cool-minded reflective person, and it was one of the things you liked the most about him. Maybe because it was such a stark contrast from when he was young, blood boiling at any minor inconvenience.

Maybe because it was an anchor in an otherwise stormy life.

“I know,” you said. “And that’s why I don’t believe it’s your fault. You didn’t mean for any of that to happen. And neither did I.”

“Still sucks that it did.”

You’d never heard a truer sentence before. And it was rhetorical, didn’t mean for a reply. All that you could do was nod, gaze escaping from his to find your wriggling fingers in your lap. A new silence stretched between you, still as heavy. Heavier than gravity – was it going to form a black hole between you and him?

“What’s that painting you’ve been working on?” he asked.

You glanced towards the art. Observed the paler backdrop, the painting that you had started in Ilsan. Your anxiety had splashed swirls of darker blue over it, adding melancholy to it that you’d never really visited in your art before.

“Something to get my mind off the edge,” you admitted. “I’ve been trying to pour my thoughts into it. To escape reality for a time.”

Maybe it had been the wrong thing to say. Weeks later, you’d look back on this moment and realize that it was the catalyst to the destruction. But right this instant, you couldn’t even think past the words.

“To escape?” he prodded.

You nodded. “Don’t you use music as an escape?”

“Yeah,” he said, but somehow his voice was flat.

It brought your attention back to him, and you noticed his eyes on you. Noticed the grief that your words had instilled behind his pupils, hiding somewhere in the deep brown of his gaze.

“So I assume you must understand.”

He didn’t answer right away. Held your gaze as if time had stopped, and maybe it should have. Maybe time should have been kind to you and him, in its chronology.

“If you need an escape from this,” he said, motioning vaguely between you and him, “maybe we shouldn’t be doing it at all.”  

Your heart stopped in your chest, turning cold. Anxiety flooded in, washing away everything that you once were. You felt naked, young, as if you’d gone back in time and were watching him walk away again.

“I never said I needed an escape from us,” you said, and the venom in your voice surprised both you and him.

“Are you happy right now?” he enquired. In a whisper, as if it was the scariest thing. And scary words could never be uttered too loud – wouldn’t they just break everything in their wake?

“I’m not sure.” You saw the flash of hurt on his face, and you quickly rushed to add, “I’m just so anxious.”

“I’ve been making you feel anxious?”

You shook your head. “No. Not you. The situation. The sudden fame. The spotlight and my art being sold at crazy prices. The fact that I have to worry about paparazzi, about what I do or say. It’s so sudden.”

Namjoon didn’t reply right away. Instead, he looked at you, gaze heavy with feelings you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Maybe it was understanding – because of course he’d understand what you were going through. He was going through it too, though he’d known this life for years now.

“I’m sorry I brought this to you,” he eventually chose to say, carefully. As if he was aware you were fragile glass right now, one wrong move and you’d explode into a million tiny little shards. “I can take it away easily,” he claimed.

You cocked an eyebrow, because was he offering you salvation? You highly doubted he could.

“How?”

He pursed his lips, features turning apologetic for a time. “We break up. We go our separate ways, I get the rumours off your back. No one’s going to be after you anymore if they think I’m with someone else.”

The loudest sound in the universe was your heartbeat, in that instant. It was so loud even your thoughts became distant little specks, unable to break the wall of sound.

“What?”

He sighed, shrugging. As if he was giving up, as if he’d given up even before he’d gotten here. “If being with me makes you so anxious,” he started. “And by that, I mean not me as a person. What I mean to the world, or whatever it is that you said earlier. If it makes you too anxious, I’m just going to remove myself from the situation.”

Were you stupid, for being unable to reply anything other than ‘what?’ again? Perhaps you were. Especially as he scoffed this time around, and something started aching in your chest, differently than it was before.

“I think it’s better for you if we break up,” Namjoon explained. When you remained silent this time around, he slowly shut his eyes, head hanging low. “I don’t think I could reassure you enough when it comes to your anxiety for us to be able to be together.”

Your heart felt as if it had slowed down in your chest, so much so that the world surrounding you turned silent, soundless. You heard the breath of air that you took in, cringing as it did nothing to ease the slowly rising panic in you.

“I don’t want us to break up,” you said, murmured, though the moment the words crossed the threshold of your lips you realized that perhaps this had been what you were aiming for all along.

“I can’t date someone that gets so anxious just because they’re with me,” he answered, and he looked truly apologetic. Guilty too, as if he had committed the worst crime humanity could witness.

And perhaps breaking a heart truly was the worst crime out there.

It felt unlike Namjoon. You’d gotten the impression that he was someone reliable, someone cool-headed who’d be able to support you, to help you go through your anxiety. But as you stared at him, sitting there on the couch in your studio, you realized that he, too, struggled with his own anxiety. Had probably struggled with a lot of it in the past, so much so that he couldn’t afford to put himself in a situation where he’d only get bad again.

The only solution appeared like a dark cloud looming over the horizon of your conscience. You wished wind could blow it away, wished you were strong enough to manage your anxiety without losing him, but you knew it’d be easier once he was gone. Knew your sleep wouldn’t be as troubled, knew you’d be able to dwindle away into anonymity once more.

You had to let him go. For your sake, mostly, but for his too. Because he deserved someone who could shine with him in his spotlight, someone who’d be able to accept all of him, including his fame. And that just wasn’t you.

“Namjoon…”

“It’s hard for me too, you know?” he added. “To watch the person that I love getting worse every day, knowing that I’m the cause of it. Y/n…” he paused, and this time he was the one to look away. “I haven’t even seen you smile in weeks. Ever since the rumours.” He shook his head. “Even before that. I’m not sure you’ve been happy since we started dating.”

“That’s not true,” you declared, trying to put as much conviction in your words as you possibly could. “I was happy in Ilsan. I was happy when we came back, too. It really is just the sudden fame that’s been throwing me off.”

You were relieved you’d finally found words to explain your anxiety. And somehow, them slowly falling out of your mouth eased the anxiety, eased the fear.

But you knew you were going to let him go.

“Then we take a break,” he continued. “I don’t want to be the source of something negative in someone’s life. We take a break, let the rumours dwindle away, and when it’s safe, we can try again.”

Your eyes blurred with tears. If he saw them, he ignored it, instead focusing on the calluses in his hands again.

“If that is what you want, I’m not going to force you to stay with me,” you said, voice small in the enormity of what was happening.

He scoffed. “What I want is just impossible. This is just second best.”

“Breaking up with me is second best?” you asked, anger and bitterness swirling under the surface of your ache. “It’s that easy for you?”

He frowned, meeting your gaze again. “Who said it was easy?”

“You’re the one that claims it’s a good thing. Second best.”

At that, he rolled his eyes, slowly shaking his head again. “This is not what I meant.”

Maybe your anxiety was winning against you, maybe the knowledge that you had to let him go was stronger than anything else. Because you couldn’t watch him anymore. Couldn’t gaze at his deep brown eyes anymore, knowing that they’d become ghosts in your memory in just a few moments.

A few moments of breaking, of a glass heart dropped to a stone-cold floor.

“Then leave, Joon,” you said, voice unwavering even though you felt like ice was clutching your entire being. “Let’s take this break, let’s see if it’s better for both of us.”

The dark cloud rolled closer, engulfing you. Especially as he didn’t fight more. As he nodded his head, got up and motioned towards the stairs. As if that was enough when he was dropping you, giving up on you.

But weren’t you giving up on him just as much?

That night, you sat cross-legged in front of your canvas, watching the opened paint pots littering the floor around you. When your eyes slid back towards the canvas, a single tear escaped the confines of your eyelids, rolling along your cheek.

Deep brown eyes looked back at you, shining with their own unshed tears, reminders of where you failed in the timeline of your life.

*****

Thirteen years ago

                You were going to kill Kim Namjoon. You would kill him, and be happy about it.

You’d heard from a friend of a friend that he had been hanging out with a certain Jeon Yuri, a beautiful, popular girl that had every reason to be liked by a guy like Namjoon. It was understandable – everyone loved Yuri.

Only, Yuri hated you. Always did, and took to insulting you in that covert way of hers that made people think she was complimenting them. But you saw right through her – you knew she was just a conniving rich girl. So you hated her back, with all the hate your little heart could summon.

To think Namjoon was hanging out with her? You’d kill him for it.

So you waited outside the gates of your childhood home for him to show up. You had been waiting there for a while already – partly because you needed to cool off, but also because you wanted to avoid your parents’ questions. Because obviously they loved Namjoon.

Everyone loved Namjoon, and everyone loved Yuri. You knew you were going to hate the both of them.

Namjoon arrived with a smile on his face, dimples flashing as if they’d get you to fold, to forgive him. To be fair, he did not know about your history with Yuri, as you never spoke about it to anyone. But when he saw your features, his smile immediately crumbled, replaced by worry.

“What’s wrong?” he instantly asked as he stopped in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” you repeated, before scoffing. “Why did I have to hear from Kim Haru that you’re hanging out with Jeon Yuri?”

His brows furrowed. “What’s wrong with hanging out with her?”

Your eyes widened and your fists landed on your hips. “Everything? She’s just a bitch.”

“Excuse me, what?” Namjoon let out, and you could tell by the reddening of his cheeks that he was already getting worked up too. “You told me to never call a girl a bitch and now you’re doing it?”

You rolled your eyes so far back you thought you could see your brain. “It’s not the same thing.”

He scoffed, in that condescending way of his that he always used when he wanted to win an argument. And you saw red. You saw blood red, scarlet like you were but a bull attracted to a flag.

“Don’t you fucking condescend me right now.”

“Don’t you fucking curse at me.”

“No seriously,” you continued. “I don’t want a guy who’s only after popular girls.”

“I am not,” Namjoon drawled. “I’m tutoring her and Park Seojin in maths. You already knew this.”

As a matter of fact, you did not. “You never told me.”

“Because you never listen to me,” he spat. “You’re always just drawing your fucking drawings as if that’ll lead you anywhere in life.”

“Kim Namjoon!” you burst. “And you’re always just going on about how you want to be a rapper. You’re a kid, dude, stop chasing after pointless dreams.”

He stepped closer to you, towering over you. You stood your ground, crossing your arms on your chest. “You’ll be sorry you ever said that. Oh, you’ll be so fucking sorry.”

“I don’t think I will. I don’t even think I’ll remember you.”

It was a low blow, and you could tell it hit him right in the gut. “You’re breaking up with me over such a stupid thing?”

“I’m breaking up with you because you’re a liar. You said you were with your friends, and then I learn that you were with Jeon Yuri?”

He sighed for a long time, shaking his head in frustration. “Oh, so this is really what it is about? Maybe there’s a reason why I didn’t want to tell you I was tutoring her.”

You scowled. “Why?”

“Because I knew you’d throw a jealousy fit. You think you’re entitled all of my time.”

“Fuck you,” you growled. “Fuck you. I have all the rights to be jealous when my boyfriend hides stuff like that from me.”

“Boyfriend? I thought you broke up with me.”

Your gaze slightly widened. “What?”

“I’m not your boyfriend anymore,” he said, adding your name like it was an insult. “Get over me already.”

“Do you even love me?” you replied, your anger suddenly dying down to be replaced with gut-wrenching pain.

But you knew better than to expect his anger to ever die down. It took forever for Namjoon to calm down, and you feared you had crossed a line tonight.

“Not when you get mad at me for no valid reason.”

His words hit like a slap to the face. “I just don’t like her. Can’t you tutor someone else?”

“No.”

The simple negation brought back a shade of anger to you, and you said, “Then perhaps we really should break up. Maybe I can find someone that actually respects me.”

“Because I don’t respect you?” he said, hands moving around his frame in anger.

“Clearly not.”

“You’re right then,” he continued. “I don’t respect you. I don’t love you either, apparently, so I’m done.”

“Joon…”

“No, Maehwa,” he said, and this time the nickname broke your heart in two, splitting it right in the middle. “You don’t say my name like that.” He slowly shook his head, seething. “As a matter of fact, I don’t want you to ever speak to me again. To ever look at me. I don’t want someone that acts like a fucking child.”

“You act like a child all the time,” you interrupted, but he ignored you.

He ignored you, in favor of turning around to walk away. You watched his back, before taking a step towards him, yelling his name again. He stopped, but didn’t turn to look at you. Instead, he said, “I’ll kill you if you follow me.”

You scoffed. “Oh please, as if you’d ever hurt me.”

“I’m serious, I’ll fucking kill you if I ever see you again.”

It felt enormous, to say such a thing. And perhaps youth was that – enormous in its drama. So you replied, “I hate you more than I hate anything in this world.”

He shrugged his shoulders, and then he walked away.

He walked away into the October night, and your cleaved heart shattered in a million tiny pieces.

☆☆☆☆☆

Read the rest of the fic here bc tumblr sucks and now we can't write posts longer than 1,000 blocks

#emotions of the soul #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #namjoon fic #namjoon #knj smut #knj angst #knj x you #knj x reader #knj fic #knj #kim namjoon angst #kim namjoon smut #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x you #kim namjoon fic #btswritersclub #life goes on series

[veethefreeelf]

RM / KIM NAMJOON Fic Recs (I)

M - Mature (minors DNI) / F - Fluff / A - Angst / HpE - Happy Ending

None of these works are mine, I tagged all the authors, make sure to go to the authors page, like and reblog their works

new guy - one-shot, 5.5K - by @kithtaehyung - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

Solace - one-shot, 13.5K - by @m-yg93 - full Masterlist -> M / minor A / F / HpE

the interpretation of dreams - one-shot, 13.8K - by @ppersonna - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

out of my league mini Series by @ppersonna (go through their masterlist, trust) -> M / A / F / HpE

lost in the funhouse - one-shot, 9.7K - by @dovechim - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE?

The Body Through Time - one-shot, 10.9K - by @yeoldontknow - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

False awakening - one-shot, 6.8K - by @taleasnewastime - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

Between the pages - one-shot, 4.5K - by @hwanghyunjinenthusiast - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

you, after all - one-shot, 6.8K - by @effortandmore - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

the sleeping hours - one-shot, 12K - by @effortandmore again because their writing is beautiful -> M / A / F / HpE

tuesday moon - one-shot, 7.7K - by @effortandmore again. Just read all of their Masterlist, please, you won't regret it -> M / F / HpE

worth all your while Series by @effortandmore (just leave here and go to their page) -> M / minor A / F / HpE

promises - one-shot, 18K - by @jeonbunnie - full Masterlist -> M / major A / F / You can choose your ending

lacuna - one-shot, 7K - by @eoieopda - full Masterlist - this one has a prequel and a sequel, do yourself a favor and read all of them -> M / A / F / HpE

The Making of: Love - one-shot, 12.7K - by @inkjam-moon - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

Not Another Holiday Romance - one-shot, 32.3K - by @kpopfanfictrash - full Masterlist - this one is one of my absolute favorites, they never disappoint -> M / A / F / HpE

The Rich Man's Crochet Club - one-shot, 32.4K - by the incredible @kpopfanfictrash again -> M / A / F / HpE

My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold Series by @daechwitatamic - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

give and take - one-shot, 10.5K - by @ddaenggtan - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

midnight wishes - one-shot, 10.3K - by @ddaenggtan again because they write Namjoon beautifully -> M / A / F / HpE

Moon Child - one-shot, 16K - by @adonis-koo - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

Scent of a Woman - one-shot, 10K - by @sahmfanficbts - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

The Take-Home Test - one-shot, 11.3K - by @versigny - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

keep in step - one-shot, 2.6K - by @jjkeverlast - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

On With The Show - one-shot, 33.9K - by @joheunsaram - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

reflection - one-shot, 18.6K - by @jimilter - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

A Fine Line Series by @moni-logues - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

All Night - one-shot, 12K - by @luaspersona - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

real magic - one-shot, 16.7K - @here2bbtstrash - full Masterlist -> M / minor A / F / HpE

deep end - one-shot, 4.2K - by @here2bbtstrash again because their writing is incredible -> M / F / HpE

The Stand-In - one-shot, 13.5K - by @yoonia - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

doom boy - one-shot, 4.2K - by @soft4gguk - full Masterlist -> M / HpE

s u g a r - one-shot, 10.8K - by @joonberriess - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

rivals academia - one-shot, 4.2K - by @aseaofyoongi - full Masterlist -> M / minor A / HpE

Love Language - one-shot, 14K - by @rmnamjoons - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

Castaways - one-shot, 25.5K - by @rmnamjoons - this one is absolute GOLD -> M / A / F / HpE

all aboard! (the passion express) - one-shot, 10.8K - by @ve1vetyoongi - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

Inside My Mind - one-shot, 19.2K - by @jimlingss - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

His Majesty - one-shot, 9.6K - by @yoonieper - full Masterlist -> M / A / minor F / HpE

Dragonfire - one-shot, 7.3K - by @hamsterclaw - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

obsessed - one-shot, 13.8K - by @namjuicyy - full Masterlist - really read the trigger warnings for this one please, it's not for everyone (it's brilliant tho) -> M / A / F / HpE

Untitled - one-shot, 16K - by @ahundredtimesover - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

Dino-Mite - one-shot, 34.7K - by @chimcess - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

Cherry Muffins and Lavender Tea - one-shot, 8.1K - by @roses-ruby - full Masterlist -> M / minor A / F / HpE

English literature - one-shot, 7.6K - by @tayegi - full Masterlist - this one also has a sequel, be sure to check it out as well -> M / F / HpE

glasses-clad boy - one-shot, 10K - by @jeongi - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

Love Borrowed - one-shot, 7K - by @goldenkookietae - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

Love is Blind - one-shot, 7.4K - by @helenazbmrskai - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

the snow globe effect - one-shot, 10K - by @gukyi - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE

there was a bug - one-shot, 7K - by @kimnjss - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE

#rm smut #rm #rm fluff #rm angst #rm fanfic #rm fic #namjoon smut #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fic #kim namjoon smut #kim namjoon fluff #kim namjoon angst #kim namjoon fanfic #kim namjoon fic #fanfic recs #fic recs #bts fic recs #bts fics

[indigobsessed]

Domesticity.

pairing : kim namjoon x reader (newly-established relationship)

summary : after getting into a relationship together with your best friend of 5 years, he decided to sleep over as usual. but this time, you woke up feeling different.

genre : best friends-to-lovers, fluff, comfort, a teeeeeny tiny bit of angst, DOMESTIC NAMJOON

rating : SFW

warnings : SHIRTLESS NAMJOON SHIRTLESS NAMJOON AND HE’S DOMESTIC ㅠㅠㅠㅠ , a bit suggestive (implied making out)

wc : 609 words.

a/n : ok maybe i lied that wasn’t my last post afterall… have fun reading this thing bc my brain cannot process an equation rn 😨 not proofread :”)

You squint your eyes to the morning light in your room. Due to the very irritating sunlight, it causes you to slowly get up and sit down. Sighing, and you look to your side and see no one was there. You felt cold, lonely.

After getting the courage to get out of bed, you did your mini stretching as of what your best friend of five years, Namjoon, taught you.

And then it hits.

Namjoon, kiss, confession, sleepover.

Maybe you could be dreaming, maybe this is all just about you.

You went over to look at yourself in the mirror, seeing your messy bed hair and bare face. You are wearing a white tank top with biker shorts, but the jacket you were wearing isn’t yours, and it was five times bigger.

Namjoon.

You walk out of your bedroom to see Namjoon in the kitchen, shirtless and making 2 cups of your favourite tea. You stand there, blushing at the sight of his muscular build. And then you think again, is it true that you kissed him?

You were lost in your thoughts until Namjoon snaps you out of it.

“Oh, Y/N, I didn’t see you there.” He said, putting down the cups of tea on the counter as he walks over to you and wraps his big arms around your waist. You look up to him with loving eyes as he leans down to give you a good morning kiss.

It felt natural.

There were no hesitation.

That was when you realise, he is no longer your best friend, but your boyfriend.

The kiss lasted for a while until he pulls away, you lean onto his bare chest.

“Good morning, Y/N.” He caresses your back in small circles. “Ew Namjoon, I haven’t brushed my teeth yet!” You slapped his chest lightly as you felt the vibrations from it as he chuckles. “Me too, but that doesn’t stop me from wanting to kiss you all over again.” He teases as you whine about how disgusting that was.

Both of you stand there, enjoying the quiet atmosphere in each other’s embraces.

He feels warm. You feel warm.

“Namjoon, is this real?” You question him as you hold him closer. “Real? What do you mean by real, baby?” Baby. You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach from the nickname. “I mean.. Is this real? Us? Are we.. Can we? You won’t leave me right? Namjoon-“ He cuts your blabbering off with a kiss. “Y/N, listen to me baby. What I feel for you, what you feel for me, are all real. I know what you’ve been through, I’ve seen it all, my love. The moment I get to call you mine, even though you were already mine from the start,” He speaks. “I. Will. Take. Care. Of. You.” He continued, each word with soft pecks.

“Please don’t ever leave me, Joon.” You nuzzled yourself closer. “Never. We are still the same as before, Joonie and Y/N-ie remember?” He comforts you, and you nod.

As you both pulled away from your embraces, he takes your hand in his and gives it a little squeeze. “Baby, why don’t you go sit down and put on our favourite show while i reheat our drinks. Hmm?” He says, giving a little kiss on your cheek as you went over to sit down.

He comes back after a while, sitting next to you and cuddled closely.

This may be the first, but it lasts forever.

And you have never loved someone so much, and you have never felt so loved by someone.

To make it even better, it’s all from Namjoon.

Your boyfriend.

#namjoon #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon #namjoon x reader #bts fluff #kim namjoon fluff #kim namjoon angst #bts angst #bts rm #rm fluff #rm angst #rm x reader #lisy’s writing

[l0mljeonjungkook]

Lost & Found | knj x reader

➤ Summary - eight years beside him were nothing but a roller coaster ride. Being a single mother wasn't easy, but your best friend, Kim Namjoon made your way smooth. You never knew you felt something for him until you read his diary, which you weren't supposed to read ever. What will you do, if not only you but Hyeon, your baby, and your best friend Namjoon, wants the same, what you desired for so long?

➤ Pairing - Namjoon x reader

➤ Genre - fluff, smut, angst

➤ Warnings - 18+ unprotected sex, grinding, lovemaking, explicit sex, confessions, hickeys +more.

➤ Word count - 9.6k+

"When are you getting spliced?" you questioned him while wiping off Hyeon's face daubed with the ice cream all over his mouth.

"y/n why do you ask the exact question every dinner night!! besides I'm better off alone." He pointed at you with the chopsticks in his hand.

"What? I have a license to interrogate, a license called best friends since uh--", you count on your fingertips and Hyeon laughs at you catching a glimpse of you amounting to something on your fingertips, "since seven years, yaah!! after all, you're diving into the 28th year of your life, Mr. Kim!!" You chuckle a pure sham chuckle.

"Hyeon, tell your mom, to concentrate on her food." He instructs Hyeon, who's heartily licking his fingers overlaid with ice cream yet his almond-shaped hazel eyes, are shaded with a craving for more ice cream, and mischievous eyes spot chocolate ice cream on the table.

"Hyeon is bored with mom and you", you both crack up.

You look back at the man sitting opposite you, "No, but seriously, when are you jumping on to propose Ji-a, enough of coffee dates now! I want you to start a family", you didn't ask, you implored, however, honestly you don't understand why.

"Coffee dates?? Are you-- insane? Coffee dates?? I never really got into such dates with her, if you ask me!! Who the hell told you so?" He blurted but instantly looked at Hyeon as if the kid heard his shoot voice and shut his eyes, "I'm sorry y/n, I didn't mean to shout out loud at you. Just to be transparent with you I'm currently not seeing anyone nor will see anyone in the future. And if you got your answer then let's leave, I'll drop you two."

You honestly don't get, why he gets so pissed off with your question.

"No, Hyeon needs more ice creams"

"Baby, no--"

"Which flavor my angel wants?" He questioned Hyeon, with fondness in his eyes.

"Chocolate one"

Barely a minute ago he was ready to drop you two home but isn't it obvious, that his love for Hyeon is out of the world?

"Why do you get so painfully angry about your marriage"

"Cause I don't want to!!!"

"Mom--"

"She's a nice--"

"Mom mom--"

"Yes baby", you wiped his face again.

"Mom I want you to get married to my friend" he announced, eyes on his ice cream.

You chuckled, looking at the man sitting opposite of you, "friend?"

"Yaa mom, Namjoon, he's good mom, then I'll tell everyone that my friend is my dad too." He giggles, and you both can only ignore him.

This question caught you off-guard. It startled you but it wasn't unfamiliar. You have been subjected to this question by none other than you, yourself. It didn't amaze you that much but what shook you was - the man himself in front of you.

It's been five days to be precise, since the last dinner on Saturday night you haven't heard from him. It's the sixth day, Friday morning, you couldn't sleep the entire night, questions eating your inner soul because Namjoon your best friend for 8 years, phones you every morning before you drop Hyeon to school and whether you said no to him for conceivably thousands of time, that you'll drop your kid to school, he still expects perhaps one day you'll let him, but latterly he ain't called you once. And you vow to yourself if today too he won't, you'll despite everything.

Kim Namjoon, where will you inaugurate him? There's only a beginning point, and you could purely start word-for-word about him but no final page for his efforts, love, respect, and support for you, it's something you have been subjected to a lot of instances where his efforts, love, care, and support for you only increased tripartite. There's only an open door in your heart for him but closed when he carved his room in there, and now he's been living there for 8 years.

How you two met was indeed one of the two, best parts, of that university.

You two met at New York University 8 years ago to be exact, both from the same place Ilsan in Goyang, Seoul, South Korea, albeit never met each other, registered for the same program in uni, attended the same classes, but never spoke to each other. It was one day when you dashed to the class and took a seat beside him, horrified by the professor that if he didn't let you in like the other day he did with one of your class fellows, but the sigh of solace left your lips when you saw your professor was late for the first time in 3 months, hah!

You're somebody who never initiates a conversation with someone whether known or unknown, and you would have never known him if he wouldn't offer you his bottle of water, "Drink it, the professor would be late fifteen minutes", you were zoned out until you heeded his deep baritone voice which startled you. You blinked owlishly when you saw his hand stretched out the bottle in front of you.

"Thank you", barely two words you managed to choke out, after taking two sips, you handed the bottle back to him. Still today you laugh at your naivety, how you treated him the first day you two met, though you two used to gawk at each other, yet never persuaded to exchange a word or two. But you remember how your inner self lauded the Lord, for arriving late to the class. If In case you were on time that day maybe... You'd have perched on your regular seat, and again you two would have been eyeing each other from east to the west of your class, and never would have been friends. That was day one of your friendship.

"Uh-- sorry but would you mind walking with me to the library, umm after this class," taking a view of the watch on his wrist as he puffs out a breath, "uh, Just for the group project, if you already are in some group then there's no rub. I'm still looking for a group--"

"Oh, no issue, I can connect y'know", why are you feeling so diffident in front of him, looking everywhere but him, tracing circles on your palm midst talking to him, "I-- uh I too am not in any bunch, so let's do this then?" You harrumph, rubbing your sweaty palms on your thighs.

And you smack your head and snappily shut your eyes at the remembrance, of how shy you were beside him, but not now, now you two are akin to birds of a feather flock together.

"Great, then," he said with a dimpled smile.

His dimpled smile from ear to ear and the dips on his cheeks, and the crinkles near his crescent eyes looked so adorable on him. Not to mention his eyes are like a crescent moon, you could even draw his picture with closed eyes. The picture of his face is engraved in the back of your head.

Those days with Namjoon were flooded with solace, giggles, and serenity until one glossy day turned grey when you met Hyeon's father - Jace, at that university the first and last awful and guiltiest memory at uni.

But why are you even calling him your child's father, ever he said was, one thing for your kid, that he's not his. No, not again this pang in your chest.

You met Jace in the second year of your university. Not to mention the initial months of your relationship with him were all glitter and gold. You both enjoyed your university life like a grad student usually does. Being at frat parties was a new norm for a girl from a small town. Being at pubs, getting some Dutch courage, getting totally jaked at those darty parties, and not least of all out for the count.

Honestly, you're not confident about all those darty party nights with Jace, the negative behaviour of yours, a post-break syndrome after being utterly drunk as you fail to remember the night's episodes. But where you still hung up on is Namjoon never attended such parties, maybe because Jace was with you and protected you? Perhaps he never preferred Jace because of his d2 group in Namjoon's words - douchebag drunkard group, who either would be bathing in alcohol or would be soliciting some women in pubs or frat parties.

So your only best friend wanted to stay off from you and your nerd ex like rigidly stayed away by a country mile.

It's been 5 years since Hyeon's birth which adds, that you never met your ex ever again, what you went through after Jace became acquainted with the fact that you were pregnant, still haunts you. Not that you never wanted Hyeon, but after your ex was subjected to the reality that you were pregnant, he cut all the cords with you. Jace left you, made up the false assumptions in his mind, about you're not pregnant because of him, no, no you recall back to his words by heart - "This ain't my kid, it's your best friend's or whoever you're sleeping with, WHORE!!" The ache earned by the slap of his words is still in your heart, he chuckled, dark eyes wandering over your body, and left. Making all the promises void leaving your heart barren. But you wished for once his words were true, about Namjoon as your child's father.

You look at Hyeon sleeping soundly beside you, he so looks akin to his father by his looks but his heart is purely like Namjoon. He looks so glorious just like sunshine whirled your miserable life into a garden full of lifelike and scented blooms. Jace only gave you awful memories - nightmares, but your baby is the best gift, and besides the tragic past with Jace, everything fades away with Hyeon and Namjoon by your side.

You are grateful to your best friend that he never gave up on you and stayed with you in the rain and shine, life is not always about sunshine and glitters but with him, it really was and still is!!

Whether Namjoon isn't your child's father, he never lets you feel like you would ever need Jace. Driving you to the hospital, discussing your health with her, eyeing your every med, not letting you attend the classes, even writing notes for you. Who so ever will marry him, gonna be a lucky girl, he's the ideal man. You never felt you were a single parent of your child, never. Maybe a father too won't do what he did for you and Hyeon. Honestly even Hyeon never asked about his father, maybe Namjoon's presence was only equal to his father.

Your child's question - on last Saturday's dinner with him, is the clue.

Perhaps, a father figure is important whether you play the mother and father's part in your child's life, there still would be room left.

You do want to confess your feelings to Namjoon. However, at the same time, you do not want to waste his life because of you and your kid.

And even if you envision this, you do get scared what if he said no, or that the room in his heart is already engaged? but it haunts you in case he doesn't reciprocate what you feel for him. That is the reason why you asked about Ji-a that dinner night. What frightens you the most is not being rejected but him distancing himself from you after your confession... That's still okay but you can't see your kid and your best friend staying away because that would be a fate thousand times worse than death.

Your overthinking took the best of you, it's currently 6 am you didn't shut your eyes for a moment. The alarm buzz makes Hyeon a little startle, so you quickly shut it. His tiny arms tighten their grip on your arm. You silently giggle at your baby's movement, as you kiss him on the forehead, ruffling his hair ever so lightly.

He shortly unfolds his eyes, "mom," he softly murmurs.

"Yes, my angel."

"Mom, Joonie will come" he manages to let those words out blinking his eyes to dust away the sleep and watch his mom's face.

"What? Baby sleep for a few more minutes,"

"No, I have to get ready for my school mom, Joonie is coming to pick me up for school," he smiles midst rubbing his eyes from the back of his hand to wipe away the slightest sleep left in his eyes.

"Oh, baby", you hug him tightly leaving kisses all over his face, "but he didn't phone me, baby"

"Mom, Hyeon called him," he points at you, "your phone," he chuckles at your baffled face, "hyeon told him if he will not come to pick me up for school," his eyes are on your night tee button which glitters under the dim light as he toys it, "then Hyeon will find a new best friend."

You chuckle and place a kiss on his forehead, at least your kid isn't like you, save for eating doughnuts and whatever sweet hooks his eyes, let alone unable to keep things in his heart, and you're delighted with him today.

"Then get ready for school."

Hyeon is quick at getting things done, maybe it's Namjoon's influence, sticking around him, eating occasionally sleeping, and repeating, under his friendship, is why he's fitting in the same frame as Namjoon.

It's nearly 8 am you assume, and Hyeon's school time is 9. Hyeon is chomping on grapes, as your eyes are fixated at the entrance of your wee apartment which you could only afford to live in with your baby let alone you have been staying here since you flooded back to Seoul.

You left your main door unlocked for Namjoon, waiting for him, as you're barely focusing on anything else.

There's a knock at the door initially, and your eyes spring instantly from your phone to the direction of the knock followed by a creaking sound of the wooden door being opened.

"Joonieee," Hyeon squeals as he jumps off his skyscraper chair, his voice muffles because of the grape in his mouth.

Namjoon sinks to the floor, and outstretches his arms to hug the kid scurrying toward him, and hugs him tightly placing kisses all over his face and you gush at the scene in front of you, of the two main characters of your life. Their giggles, flood your mini apartment with light and serenity that soothes your heart.

"Piggyback me now," Hyeon whines.

Namjoon giving Hyeon a piggyback... It's a norm between them. When so ever Namjoon visits, he parades straight to Hyeon's room and gives him a piggyback ride to the living room.

Is there anything Namjoon denied Hyeon? No. Hyeon really does know how to bring his friend to his heels.

Will he, right now? Conceivably no!!

Because before you even think of an answer, he gives Hyeon a piggyback ride to the couch.

You glance at him, but he only avoids your gaze. You swore you won't ever poke tease at him about Ji-a or another girl. It was a colossal blunder that evening and the least he could do is flash a smile!?... this is something you didn't save at least he could return a smile to you!! Annoyance bubbles inside you, as you narrow your eyes at him and cross your arms under your soft bosoms, rise.

Fine, he's being tough... Then I'm the toughest.

You parade toward your kitchen to prepare some tea for him and ramen for your baby. This Namjoon is not your best friend anymore, he's Hyeon's best friend now. The way his face glows merely talking to your kid tells a lot. At least for Hyeon's sake, he's here after five days. But why are you jealous? He's only talking to your kid but why is he so low?

They are relaxing on the couch, Hyeon sitting close to Joon.

"Hey Joonie", his soft baby-like voice sounds so dull in the morning.

"Yes, my little angel", remote in his hand and eyes on the TV, surfing Hyeon's favourite movie minions... And probably it's the 50th time today for him watching minions with the kid.

"I do not want to watch a movie", he crosses his arms and knits his brow in unison.

"Why?" Namjoon frowns as his finger halts on the remote button he places it aside because it's so unwonted apathy on Hyeon's face.

Hyeon looks in your direction before speaking, "Promise you won't tell mom!" He impetrates, His eyes zoned out, on the floor, perhaps mind on whatever he's been thinking.

Not wanting to waste a second, Namjoon blurts, "I promise." He leans closer to him, picks him up, and straddles him on his lap. "Tell me"

"My friend Ji-woo, said Geon is her best friend and I'm not." He pouts as he hugs Namjoon burying his face, against his chest.

Namjoon chuckles placing a kiss on his hair he pats Hyeon's back, "this was the serious thing you wanted to tell."

"Yes, she's my very good friend Namjoon," he stretches himself out to catch a glimpse of Namjoon, as he continues, "it's complicated."

He chuckles again, age just five but thinks like a fifty. But at some point, Namjoon too felt the same.

Does he still feel the same after these years?

Does he still love your sapphire eyes, which he fell in love with?

Hyeon's eyes are Sapphire too, and radiant like you.

Does he still want to spend the rest of his life with you even after you are a mother of a child?

Does he need to remind himself why is he still single?

Or is he waiting for someone who perhaps never loved him or will never love him??

"What are you boys chattering ... I too want to know", you asked aloud from the kitchen and startled him the messed-up questions which were already jumbled up are now whirled up like a Bermuda triangle... consuming him.

"Nothing mom, we can't disclose. It's our secret, right Namjoon", Hyeon questions, placing his tiny hand on Namjoon's cheek whilst poking his index on his deep dimples, as Namjoon titters at Hyeon's baby-like voice.

"it's hollow," he scowls, poking both indexes on either of his dimples, "Joonie, your cheeks"

"Heyyyy, told you to call him uncle", you yell at your kid.

And they snubbed you, again babbling about something which now looks suspicious to you, yet you are here in the kitchen preparing tea for Namjoon and ramen for boys.

Whilst yelling at your kid, you burnt your index, as you shriek yanking back your hand, and on spur of the moment, you suck your index - a reflexive response.

He looks at you, standing in the kitchen, face scarlet and a finger in your mouth. With due consideration, he gently places Hyeon on the couch and dashes hotfoot towards you. Taking your hand under his custody, he - on autopilot - sucks your index which was in your mouth a moment ago. His eyes looking darkly, deeply, into your eyes with something unfathomable which you don't understand but gives you wintery shivers down to your spine.

"Ar-- are you mad at me?" You stutter, at the nearness between you two, your heart is pounding at the speed of light years. Oh, my god. You in a jiffy, look at Hyeon, and he's eyeing you two with a scowl on his baffled face, surely he is out of depth. You hastily take a step back.

"PUSHED TO VIOLENCE MAD" he declares, dark eyes still not leaving you, peeping oh-so-wildly into your soul.

"But why", you murmur, managing to choke out, your eyes flutter.

"Where was your damn mind y/n?" He hisses with his gritted teeth, your eyes wandering across his honey tone skin glowing in sunlight that seeps through the window and meets his soft petal-like skin as your hands are hungrily desiring to nuzzle him, craving to feel him.

"Jooniee," Hyeon calls, annoyance dripping from his voice, "what are you two doing there" he quizzes you two, and in a flash look at Joon and a mysterious grin on the corner of his mouth.

"Coming", he let out, looking at you with his sexy grin.

Does he smile like this or it's just you, noticing it right now? He looks handsome today, Is he really single? or not? because of how such a beautiful-young-rich man like him is? how has no one ever proposed to him or approached him? maybe someone must have, surely proposed to him and this idiot would have rejected her like he always had. Namjoon with someone else, this picture in the back of your dense head, who's not you is undeniably painful, your heart is burning with just a mere image of him with someone else! What will happen if that image will pop out someday out of nowhere, what if one day you'll meet the love of his life, who, beyond a shadow of a doubt, is not YOU.

He claps in front of your eyes, "hey, I'm talking to you, where is your mind y/n", as your eyes flutter and instantly you focus on his being.

"Oh, Joon, I'm sorry.... yea maybe I'd take an off from work, today."

"Hey, are you okay?"

"Yea, yea, I'm fine," you nod. "Just drop him today, if that's okay."

"This is what I came for. don't worry." he pauses, "I'm leaving to drop Hyeon to school, okay?" He traces your cheeks with his thumb and nods. "Are you sure, you're fine?"

"Yes 100%." you nod.

He places a gentle kiss on your forehead, a glow of warmth at the junction of your skin, under his touch. he nods, as he parades back to the couch.

"Come on Hyeon, will talk on our way. It's getting late"

"But Joonie your tea and, Hyeon's ramen," you stroll out of the kitchen and hand Hyeon his bento box.

"I'll be back y/n, don't worry about the kid we'll get something on our way!!!" He stretches out his hand towards Hyeon, as he holds his and the boys parade out of the apartment.

You plop down on the couch, and you hear a whisper from your right - what the hell was that y/n, oh my god. What Hyeon will think of you two, no no no.

Then the voice from your left utters - so what Hyeon too want him as someone more than a friend, maybe father.

Yea fair enough.

The voice from your right - do you too want him as Hyeon's father.

Then the voice from your left - Nah, not only as Hyeon's father!

Oh god, shut up!!!

"Joon left his bag here, probably because he's coming back." You, in a tick, remember about the novel you gave him last week, as he said he'll return in 2 days, and as said you two are meeting after a long five days, so you assume he presumably has read it. You lean closer to the bag and pick it up. You open it, searching for your book.

But you find something - more - interesting, which you thought you won't ever find it. It's the same eight years old diary which he used to hide from you, which you, one of those fine days found, not found - honestly, got your hands on, and you were just a second ago that he caught you and took rkive into his possession. It's still the same, just a little scratch on the borders, and you take a sharp intake of breath, it smells like him does he keep it with him, ever?

It's a white diary with dark blue on the south of it, with rkive written in black bold characters just on the top of the blue border.

You open it, the itchiness in your hands to open it right away and read all 500 pages in a shot, you jump over to the last page... He still writes, pages are blank at the end of it. Calm down - the voice inside of your head yells at you, with wide eyes.

Yes, she's right you need to calm your nerves babe, you rise from the couch and make your way to your room. But you halt in the between, catch a glimpse of the diary in your hand... It's wrong to read someone's secret journal.

The voice from your left howls into your ear - it's okay he's not someone for you.

And the voice from your right mumbles into your ear - what if it was your diary in someone's hand?

You pause and veer around to place it back in its place. But you hear a creaking sound of your apartment door, rather than keeping it back into his bag, just after you catch a glimpse of Joon, closing the door behind him, you whirl around - hot foot, and like hell for leather, you strut into your room, you bury the diary under your pillow and parade back to the living room.

"What happened, why are your top pale", he moves closer to you and traces your lips with the bend of his index, his eyes filled with desire are on your lips, he leans down, closer to you, but halts looking back into your eyes, as he shuts his eyes for a second and when he opens, the emotions you saw barely a second ago, faints.

He harrumphs, running his fingers through your hair, eyes not leaving you... But then he traces your lips with the back of his thumb, as he takes the tendrils of your hair around your lips and gently tugs them behind your ear. You shut your eyes, your heart thumping at his touch and a low moan slips your mouth, you angle your head to your left. His eyes land on your exposed neck and he a groan leaves his lips.

He harrumphs again taking a step back from you, "oh, office", eyes everywhere but you.

"Oh, yeah, uh-- I'm not going."

"Are you okay? I mean if you want I can stay with yo--"

"No, I mean I do want you to stay here, with me but you should really go to the office", you nod, a faint smile on your lips, " you should go Joon... I'm fine, if possible do visit again before going to your place."

"Yea I'll. And don't worry about Hyeon... I'll pick him up ok", he places his palm on your cheeks as you nod.

He gives you your favourite, dimpled smile.

And he leaves.

You make your way to your room, plop down on your bed take out his diary to read. It smells homey - the diary smells like cinnamon - like him. Finally, you're diving into his diary. "It's wrong I know but still I want to read it, sorry Joon but if you hadn't snatched it from my hand then possibly I wouldn't be doing this." You puff out a breath.

You open it, and the first page says... "You should not read someone's diary and if you're, then give it back to me and if I'm not there wait for me, I'll presumably come back to find it. Thank you."

You laugh uproariously, actually, you shriek with laughter, "Sorry Joonie I didn't tumble under your trap".

You flick to the next page, "Honestly it's wrong if you're still reading, but if you decide to stick on reading it till the last, then let me tell you something- one -- you can not tell anything to her. Two -- it's going to be exhausting because it's BORING. Thank you".

"WHAT IS THERE IN THIS? now, the chances of me not reading it are zero, Joonie, and blame yourself for this, THANK YOU," you yell.

You turn to the next page, "it's something I never really shared with anyone in my life and maybe will share it in the future with her someday(04.15.2014). Change in plan maybe it'll be just between me and this diary, but I hope to tell her someday okay but genuinely speaking I won't(11.05.2014)."

"Why did he cut that line? 11.05.2014 the day Jace proposed to me!! But what else happened that day, I remember he was with me and was fine too."

P 1: I never imagined writing a diary out of nowhere, but there's a reason why am I writing this.

So, it was my first day at the uni, I saw someone, though I don't know her name, she's the reason I am holding a pen in hand.

"He never spoke to me about someone, and why he didn't wish to let me know?"

P 5: I saw her today, again, she was sitting in the last seat at the corner of the lecture room. I couldn't take my eyes off her. She looked lovely in beige, I really wanted to confess to her, how pretty that colour looks on her, but she's too shy and I couldn't tell her.

A scowl takes its place on your face like a permanent resident. And your heart is thumping now, at his notes.

P 11: I saw her today, she has the most joyful and adorable smile. I was mad about something which right now I don't remember, and she's to blame for that, it's her gorgeous smile.

You flick through the next few pages, and you couldn't wait to know the name of the person he's been writing to, since day 1 of his uni.

P 57: I guess, I like her. She was gazing at me, but when I saw her, she swivelled her head away. Does she feel the same? But the negative point - is we both don't know the names of each other. But I think she knows mine. That day in class, the professor called out my name, so presumably, she knows.

You close the diary, anxiety is eating you up. "He literally wrote every fucking day about that girl."

Then the voice from your left interrupt - read it, maybe, you'll find the girl's name.

You open the diary again.

P 101: 07.24.2014, I'll remember forever more, my heart never jumped like today, and my hands, are still as warm as a hot spring. no... not running a fever.

She just came, more like blew in unexpectedly, I was reading something which all the appreciation goes to her as I can't remember anything, I'm confident.

I asked her to walk with me to the library and on our way, we chatted like we already knew each other, and got wind of the fact that she too is from my hometown.

It felt surreal beside her, never felt like this before, and honestly do not know what it is but maybe this is what I was waiting for my whole life. Don't want to sound sugary but she's the one I want to roll over to in the middle of the night and wake up next to her diurnal. We didn't talk much but I'm clear.

I swear I have never been so sure about something or someone in my entire life

And yes finally got to know her name, y/n, with bright sapphire blue eyes.

You shut the diary with a loud thump, and bring it close to your heart as you shut your burning eyes, a warm tear escapes your eyes. Stupid idiot nerd what not, he deserves every single... Oh, Joonie why didn't you let me know? You open your eyes wiping away your tear with the back of your hand, and you open the book again.

P 130: We just met a few months ago, but feels like we know each other, for a long time. I wish to stay by her side for a lifetime. A smile tingles upon my lips, at the thought of our friendship.

P 139: when my phone's screen lights up with her name, so does my heart and my eyes like sun rays on my face, bestowing nothing but joy.

P 148: I didn't know the meaning of happiness until I met her, her smile warms my soul like a sun in the winter mornings, like a warm blanket on a cold night. Until I saw her and now I'm unable to find a difference.

P 163: today we both visited the library.

I saw a girl over there, sitting in the corner while reading a book. It was raining like heavily, and the content smile on her face was like she finally feels at home, and safe.

I guess y/n, must be my library, my halt from meandering outside in the rain. The home I've been looking for forevermore is beside me.

"I dared myself to read this, if I didn't maybe I wouldn't get the heed of not only his but my feelings too. He sure is dumb, but I'm not. He sure took years and maybe will take forever to let it out, I won't and I can't. But before that, I need to know what he feels about me now."

P 178: we went to the cafe today, and she looked pretty in that beige dress.

I have been praying for her, for what feels like forever!!

P 196: Everyone told me I deserve better, it was okay for everyone else to say. But she too said it, she murmured into my ear, when we were in class, that I deserve better and Ara is fine. The funny thing is I don't even know who Ara is! I know, I deserve better, but I don't want better. I want her.

P 204: Oh, now I feel there's no need to even write ever again in this diary. She was the light in my dark life. She who was the sun to my winter mornings is now with someone else, yes she deserves better. It's my mistake I should have confessed.

P 205: writing after 3 years, just to keep this memory between the pages. She told me she was pregnant, and I'm more than happy.

P 263: what is tougher than a human heart, which shatters over and over and regardless of pain still lives. I'm the evidence. He left her yet her heart yearns for him.

P 278: Today we visited the doctor for her routine check-up. She said she isn't willing to have this baby and honestly it broke me to pieces. I wish I could tell her how much I love her and want not only her but her baby too. I wish to love them till my last breath.

Why I overlooked, his affection. How can I be so stupid?

You recall your memories, of when you were pregnant.

"I'm just a call away y/n, can call me at 3 in the morning I'll be there, please do not stress over things that weren't meant to be."

Just one call of yours used to shake him up. You two visited the doctor together even though you told him to stay off, pushed him away because it was your problem you wanted to deal with it alone, yet he never left your side.

"I'm not leaving, I can't see you like this, alone at this deserted apartment, where you two lived.... No y/n you're coming with me, I have a spare room at my place. I'll be content seeing you safe next to me."

"Joon I'm okay, really, I can stay he--"

"No, you're coming with me."

Even stayed up with you for nights, didn't let you attend the classes, wrote not only his but your notes too, and fought for you when you weren't there.

Took proper care, he even memorized your meds on the tongue and learned the dates of your routine check-ups, fruits, soups, juice every other basic need of yours, was his command. He did everything that a father should do, which perhaps is the only justification for why he loves Hyeon so much.

Nights when you cried over your ex, yet lied to him, that this is only a hormonal reaction but a little did you know about him, but he sure knew every reason behind your genuine or phoney smile, every single reason behind your single teardrop.

"Listen y/n, I know I have been reciting this for months but here again I'm going to say, this time not for you for ours. I -- I mean you-- your baby. I-- I want you to be strong y/n. You're going to be a mother but crying like an infant." He wipes away your tears whilst leaning to kiss you but halts and ruffles your hair.

"Heyyy Joonie", you hit his chest.

"No, but seriously, do you want me to kill that nerd? See y/n I can!! and I'll if you allow me. I'm very much y'know skilled, uh competent, even proficient," he sums his abilities on his fingers, and you giggle at his naivety, "not lying I hold a black belt in Judo and earned one in Karate too, he doesn't stand a chance in front of your best friend", he dusts off his palms as of stroking off dirt and crosses his arms around his chest.

"So dramatically proud you are, Joon", Now you're laughing uproariously, in reflex your hand finds its purchase on your middle, and he instantly notices.

"Hey, are you okay?" he immediately holds you, his eyebrows furrowed at your hand's gesture, but you're still laughing.

"Joon, I'm really fine, you should have actually played Mr. bean. where were you back then?"

"Was probably waiting for your landing."

"I love your face glowing with that peaceful smile y/n, do not cry over some nerd. I'm here with you today, what if someday, I'm not there beside you, to wipe away your tears, which merely shed but if they do, the sole reason is men." You hit his shoulder, "stop it Joonie we're friends till the end, do you get it you asshole? don't you dare say that shit again."

But he wants his last sleep beside you, his last breath beside you. His ever so firsts to be by your side and ever so lasts by your side, this is what he feels for you.

"And do you know, your taste in men is horrible, I don't trust you in that process?"

"I HATE YOU KIM NAMJOON."

You look down with teary eyes, p 278, and you skip to p380.

P 380: she deserves every star in her life, to glitter for her the way my eyes sparkle for her.

P 485: feels like we are two stars floating in the universe, yet light years away. She sure is with me but feels like those two stars, babbling on either side of the moon, neither I can reach where she is, nor she can where I'm. But, my heart cherishes every second, every moment, every single breath with her. I wish stars could collide someday, and we'll meet eventually.

P 525: a week to go, I told her it's a boy, and she said no.

P 540: It's a boy, we named him Hyeon. Honestly, I don't think I'll ever love my kid as I love Hyeon. And he has Sapphire eyes like his mom, another reason to love him even more.

You heard the clanking sound coming from your living room you shut the diary, wipe away your tears and hide it under your pillow.

You strut out of your room, "Oh you guys are back." And in the twinkling of an eye, you felt your cheeks warm, when Namjoon's eyes meet yours, like all the blood rushing up to your cheeks.

Perhaps your friends were always right about you two - that you two would make an aesthetically pleasing couple.

"Hey, come here,"

Heat pooling in the pits of your stomach, you sure did feel all of this before, but to be precise you're catching every reaction of your body, now. Those three words are just not mere words, they did something to you, the warmth between your legs is the evidence of those three words. You are eyeing him, hungrily, stop drooling you fucking idiot.

"Mom do you remember, it's Joonie's birthday tomorrow."

"No, Hyeon your mom won't--"

"Yes baby I know, there's something for him," you look at him, "will you stay with us today?"

He looks into your eyes, the glow in them, which he purely saw for Hyeon, is it for him? his brows knit together, "yes anything for you," he pauses eyes wandering across your face, "you two."

Your kid is smarter than you, when you secretly told him you need to prepare a cake for his birthday, he told you his plan, which is why they both went out, and here you're placing the cake inside the refrigerator.

You know he won't take a step forward, it's only you who could do such bravery. It's his birthday and a new start to every perfect day.

You make your way to your room to find a perfect dress for his birthday night.

You're wearing a black cold shoulder ruched flounce sleeve bodycon dress, the silk fabric just ends at the curve of your cheeks, and you complete it with a black thong and yes no bra today. It's normal for you to doll yourself up, whenever you three move out, for dinner, parties, or friends' weddings. But today is, no normal day because you have never spread out as far as to shave, lest yknow.

Brushing out your tangles, your makeup is tastefully done as you're touching up some lipstick - let aside hungrily awaiting for him to smear it, spraying some perfume all over your body, you bolt out of your room. looking around your living room, to be precise it seemed hideous barely an hour ago and now it's looking nothing but cheerful as you beautifully decked out your place with balloons on the floor which you assure Hyeon would low-key love more than your birthday boy, with a cake on the table in the middle of the living room.

There's a rattling sound of keys behind the door, and you know they're here. The front door opens, and you find Hyeon and Namjoon, standing at the door, Hyeon couldn't help but claps at the decor his eyes twinkles at the sight of balloons all over the floor, as he lets go of Joon's hand and take off to pick the balloons, but what you take a gander at Namjoon, not saying much but you can tell, he could cry any moment, he's eyeing the whole room, then looking at you, your heart is beating at light year.

He makes his way to you, "there are still three hours left for my birthday", his eyes wander across your body, and you silently praise the lord for the dress you found in your closet.

"Yes, I know Joonie, but Hyeon is really excited about your birthday, and in an hour you'll find him out for the count," you both laugh, looking at him playing with the balloons, his chuckle is canorous to your ear filling your apartment.

"Fair enough", he paused, "by the way you-- you're looking gorgeous y/n"

Three cheers finally my man noticed, "oh, thank you, I thought you won't ever notice."

"you already think so low of me, y/n," you see a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"if so, what else do you like about me then," without a shadow of a doubt, you take a step towards him, as he too leans closer to you.

"Mom, I love the cake, it's looking yummy." You look at your baby.

"Oh, did you forget about Hyeon", he grins, teasing you to the core.

"Isn't it obvious today?" you take a step back.

"y/n are you flirting." he takes a gander at you and smiles mischievously.

"No", you stand tiptoe and lean closer to his ear, and warmly without qualms, "wanna be your sugar baby", you puff out a warm breath that gives chills down to his south as his tool twitches, "this is what I call is - flirting, Mr Kim, and I strongly believe you should take some classes, yknow? from me!!" you take a step back and make your way to your kid, who could sleep any moment.

you meet Namjoon's eyes, as he shares a knowing look, that he should probably slice the cake, "Hey my baby angel, would you cut the cake with me", he asks Hyeon.

"yess" Hyeon cheers excitedly.

You three celebrated his birthday like you have been doing for years now.

As you foretold, Hyeon is now in deep slumber. you pick him up, "uh-- you can sleep in my room--"

"No, I'll sleep with him today if that's okay with you?"

"Yea sure"

it's 1am, and you're tossing and turning, unable to sleep at the thought of Namjoon sleeping under the same roof, just a few meters away.

You are wearing a red drop shoulder belted satin lounge robe, with a matching thong and no bra. Craving for his touch makes you nothing but more frustrated, and your mouth dry.

you pick up your mobile, this should end today, he's an epitome of shyness, you want him deep yet harsh inside you, and you're seconds away to strut out of your room and dashing inside the room next to yours, and straddling his saddle, but you can't he's sleeping with your baby. So, you just text him to check if he's still awake.

you 1:10 am- I have a little secret, which I think, you should know.

Joon 1:11 am- you still awake? And what secret?

You 1:13 am- yes, and looks like we're awake for the same reason. And about that secret. Check your bag perhaps you should be missing something.

Joon 1:20 am- did you swipe away my diary from the bag, when I was away from home? Don't you dare read it!!!

You 1:22 am- over and done with it.

Joon 1:26 am- I'm sorry it was all in the past y/n, I promise it's nothing like that now.

You 1:27 am- SAD. Perhaps I'm alone in this.

Joon 1:29 am- you too?

Joon 1:29 am- I mean you too feel what I feel for you?

Joon 1:30 am- you don't understand how much I feel for you y/n, if you're playing the clown then don't.

You 1:34 am- save for I'm not, and there's something I low-key want you to know beforehand if you do feel for me. Joon there's nothing behind the scenes, I, yknow I cry often even if Hyeon gets some silly injury, though he laughs, and I'm the one who cries. I cry over things that have hurt me in the past, or things I'm so in love with. Yknow I'm afraid of being left, afraid of not being good enough, a good mother, a good daughter, and a good friend. I can actually count millions of things that I feel hostility toward myself. If we're going to be a thing in the future you should know that even if you'll tell me you love me countless times, I'll still be afraid of you leaving me. Jace broke my heart into bits, just don't blame yourself.

There's a knock at your bedroom door, he slides it open when he finds it unlocked. He peeps inside before entering, entering your room he looks at you, "y/n when will you, stop thinking so low about yourself", his eyes hungrily wander across your body, and you find him in waist shorts.

His eyes travel to your hardened peaks covered with red satiny material which he wants to slip you out from it, he harrumphs distracting himself, but something catches his eyes, his eyes travel along your smooth long legs on display and halt at your sheer red thong.

"I uh--" he looks away from your figure, eyes on the floor filled with serene moonlight, "y/n, nobody's perfect, even I'm not, you know every deep and dark arcane of my past..... I'm here to tell you that I don't care, I fell in love with you, not with your perfection. Since I fell in love, since then I love every crack in your skin and all your freckles. I didn't meet someone like you," he looks back at you, as he walks closer to you and settles beside you taking a hold of your hand in his, he places a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

"I'm grateful," you take out the diary, "that I found this," and hand him.

"Oh thank you I thought I won't get it back.... and did you just say found? Really?"

"Yaahhhh!!"

"I probably wasn't going to because of the perfumes it holds of its owner, but seems like my bed would smell like him from now on, so it's fair enough to return it, no?"

He gives you his coy smile as he nods, "rather my bed will smell like you because I won't let you and our kid stay here," he parks a soft kiss on your forehead, "and what are we going to tell Hyeon?"

"That we accepted his proposal and now he'll call his best friend his dad!" You chuckle.

In a shot, he looks at you, a puzzled look blanketing his face, "I still can't believe this, that all these years you too felt the way I feel for you, why you didn't you --"

"Same question I'm hurling on you," your eyes are hungrily tracing his lips as you tightly grip the sheet under your fist and he notices you.

Without losing away any minute he leans close to you, smacking his lips on yours as your breath hitches at his sudden whirlwind of ardor, as his strong arms wrap around your waist, holding you tightly against his body and in a trice, he straddles you on his lap whilst kissing you breathlessly. your moan melts away into his mouth. you clung onto him, arms tangled around his neck.

His hand at the small of your back roughly snakes under your red satin robe. he slides his hand inside your thong, your skin flush at his touch, digging his nails into your cheeks for support. he's gently kissing you without letting you go but oh so rough on your body. sucking his lower lip, as you slowly tug his lip between your teeth leaning back to bruise it. you both moved apart breathlessly panting, hungrily looking into each other's eyes, travelling back to lips. you fiddle with the hem of his shirt, hiking it up, he's smirking looking at your eyes hungrily savouring his exposed chest.

you feel him grow under your heated core. he tugs at your robe belt as it slips down and pools around your butt. his sinful eyes filled with lust darkly eye your bosoms, he tenderly gropes your breast, he cranes his neck a little, enveloping your buds between his lips flicking it with his tongue as he takes it between his teeth, playfully biting it, your grip on his shoulder tightens dipping nails into his skin.

moans escaping from your lips making him groan, his warm breath hitting your bosom sending tingles on your skin, he places his palm gently over your lips and hushes you, "if you don't want to wake up our kid," retracting his hand from your lips, our kid that word did something like something incomplete is now perfectly complete.

He gently hurls you on the bed, you want to feel his body, you want him to kiss every inch of your skin, bite you and bruise you, your drunk eyes watch him, pulling down his waist shorts, freeing his shaft. He grabs his shaft using his large hands, and jerks himself for few times indirectly letting you know to get ready, low groans peep from his lips.

You gape at your man seductively, how he jerks his member in his hand, growing harder in his hold your stomach turns at his hard length. Fucking his fist in a pace, eyes never leaving you as he smirks at you drooling over his hard shaft. The urge inside you to take him in deep inside you, and fuking him much - very much better.

As he shoves his free hand between your legs, he spreads them apart.

He parks himself between your legs. His eyes on your bruised bosom with hickeys only make him want to bruise them more. He hooks his finger to the waistband of your thong and slides it down, your breath hitches at your exposed body in front of him as you close your eyes in self-consciousness, he gasps at his sight and leans down taking a lungful of your flavour as he parks a wet kiss on your heated - bare - wet pussy "beautiful" he murmurs.

His hands travel from your knees slowly to your lips, as he traces your delicate skin and dips his thumb in your slick, a low moan escapes your lips before you bite them to melt them inside your lips, "Joon, I can't wait, fuck me, baby", your voice seems to lower, sounding more like smooth whiskey and he knows you're only trying to make it hard for him.

"You want me to fuck your tight pussy, raw, that desperate huh!!"He parts your slit, as he flicks his tongue between your sensitive lips. "Don't you know how much I waited for you," without wasting another second he grabs your knees stretching them out for him, as your pussy slit opens. He grabs his hard cock, rubbing it.

Waiting for him to fuck you, you grab one of your bosoms and knead it desperately in your hold. He bends a little as his hands slide under your ass and grab them angling you for his cock, he slowly buries his shaft and your eyebrow furrow as he moves deeper and deeper inside you and halts drinking in your expressions.

He slightly pulls back then stops, and again pulls back eyeing you, "if you want, we can stop it right now baby", he leans down closing the distance between you two, his hands on either side of your head, and place a soft kiss on your forehead, you instantly open your eyes looking at him, his lips just an inch away from your lips, "no, I want you right now.... No more distance between us Joon," your hands cupping his nape to draw him closer as you park a soft peck on his lips.

He digs his fingers back into your flash, and retreats, slamming his dick back into you, as you whimper in pain, a tear escapes from your eyes. Glitters of sweat on his forehead under the dim light of your bedroom, doing no justice to how gorgeous your man is. Not only on his forehead but his chest too, deliciously sweaty. Seeing him on your top, your pussy clenches around his hard length, "baby", he groans dipping his head on the nape of your neck the warm breath breaking out goosebumps over your skin.

He doesn't stop now, his cock throbbing to match the crazy throbbing of his heart, arching your back you dip your head back into the pillow, "fuck Joon, shit.... Yeahhh babyy", you moan out loud, as he quickly kisses you nipping your lips to bite your moans.

He leans back, "baby, Hyeon wi--"

"Fuck me harder Joon," you murmur, breathlessly.

Without wasting any time, he's ramming his dick into your tight pussy again, as you grip the sheets under your skin.

The way he's making you feel, you never felt like this ever in your life though it's the first time after Jace, he too never made you as incredible as him. The way his hips are in a rhythm against yours, the pleasure making you clench around his length.

"I wanted you for so long y/n," he groans, pounding into you. "You are mine y/n, and I belong to you," your walls only clench tighter around his shaft, enveloping perfectly around his thick length.

"Yes, Joon, only you... Us baby" your breath hitches, looking at his dark eyes, you're close and you know he too is.

He groans as his knees buckle, striving to keep up the merciless rhythm, "should have confessed, before him but now I won't waste any minute", his words are only causing your walls to spasm and contract, fire in your abdomen with his words making your way to your peak.

"You can do this baby", he coos tracing your cheeks with his thumb. He could feel you close.

As your climax is near, your hips stutter against him, desperately, creating the heat and friction for the feelings and bringing you closer to your peak. You're writhing under him when you hit your orgasm, you're so wet that his thick shaft is easily sliding in and out of your pussy.

He's pushing into you inch by inch, massaging your walls slowly. He covers your mouth to hush you before emptying inside you, as your clenching walls only cause him to come inside you and fill you up to the rim.

He softens inside you, as he dips his head into the crook of your neck.

"happy birthday baby, I love you", you kiss his earlobe, panting heavily.

"I love you more..... the best birthday," he pulls back, looking deeply into your eyes, "can"t wait to see the joy in our baby's eyes".

you both chuckle, and there's a knock on the door, "oh, shit" you murmur.

Namjoon only chuckles, "seems like this is the time".

© 𝐥𝟎𝐦𝐥𝐣𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐣𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐤𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟐 - 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟑 𝐝𝐨 𝐧𝐨𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐩𝐲/ 𝐫𝐞𝐩𝐨𝐬𝐭/ 𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐧𝐬𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐞. All rights reserved.

#namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon oneshot #namjoon oneshot #happynamjoonday #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #namjoon birthday #namjoon imagine #kim namjoon smut #kim namjoon angst #kim namjoon fanfic #namjoon ff #namjoon fanfiction #bts namjoon x reader #kim namjoon imagine #knj x reader #knj smut #rm smut #bts smut #bts oneshots #bts imagines #bts namjoon smut #bts imagine #bts oneshot #knj fluff #bestfriend!knj #bestfriend!namjoon #namjoonday

[honeytae]

8:36pm

hello lovies! i found a very old version of this in my drafts and decided to revamp it, so here’s some good old namjoon comfort. reader is seriously going through it, but joonie is the sweetest boyfriend ever!

word count, genre: 900+, angst/fluff

trigger warning - this drabble deals with themes of depression and anxiety

You were halfway between consciousness when the chime of your doorbell sat you up straight. Rubbing at your eyes, you stretched your legs, rolling your eyes as the doorbell rang out again.

Huffing, you stood from the couch and made your way to the front door, socked feet dragging along the floors of your foyer.

Realization dawned upon you as you tugged on the door handle, the tightness in your chest easing a bit at the memory of the soup you’d ordered an hour ago.

“Thank you,” you murmured to the delivery person standing in your doorway, trading the tip in your hand with the paper bag in theirs.

You had nearly forgotten you’d ordered anything.

Lately things had been off. You couldn’t quite place your finger on it, but your energy levels were all out of wack, your head felt heavy all of the time, and you were much too sedentary for typical comfort.

You got like this sometimes. It had happened enough that you knew you’d find the light again. That didn’t make you feel any less uneasy, though.

Heaving a sigh, you made your way to your living room. The shades were closed, just as they’d been for the last week. There wasn’t any reason to open them and let daylight blind you. You were also actively avoiding the fact that everyone else was out there living their lives while you sunk deeper and deeper into your funk.

You set the bag of food down on the coffee table with a sad crumpling noise, settling back into the couch cushions and watching as if it would suddenly unpack itself.

You aren’t sure when you fell back asleep, but you wake to the smell of noodles and a gentle weight on your forearm.

Blinking your bleary eyes open, you can just barely make out the sight of your boyfriend leaning over you, a gorgeous smile pulling at his lips.

“Hi, sleepyhead,” he crooned as you slipped further out of slumber, the cushions below you shifting as he lowered himself beside you.

“Hey,” you spoke around a yawn, “I didn’t know you were coming over tonight,” you shifted closer to him, nuzzling into his side as he threw an arm around you.

“Hm, me neither. Finished up a little early,” he paused to pucker his lips against the top of your head, “and I missed you,” he spoke into your hair.

Shifting your gaze up to him, he leaned back to accommodate you, brown eyes glittering back at you being one of the only light sources in the dark room.

“I missed you too,” you sighed, meeting his soft lips in a chaste kiss, reaching up to soothingly scratch at his scalp.

He hummed against your lips, his touch leaving you for a moment as he leaned over to the coffee table. It was only then that you realized he had heated up your food from earlier, a steady lump swelling in your throat as he took a cup in his hand and guided it into your own.

You thanked him with a shy smile, faltering a bit when you saw the concern tainting his eyes.

“You’re worrying,” you squinted at him, watching triumphantly as his lips twitched just the slightest in response to your accusation.

It’s not necessarily that you’re trying to hide your struggles from Namjoon. You’d been with him long enough that you could read each other super easily, so there was no doubt in your mind that he knew you were in a major slump. You just never wanted to be the reason for Namjoon’s stress, reaching out to poke his cheek until you were met with that dimple you loved oh so dearly.

“Of course I am,” he started, causing you to raise your eyebrows as you anxiously stirred the spoon in the soup, giving him your full attention as he laid a palm on your thigh.

“I just,” he blinked, pausing for a moment, “I want to help you so bad. No matter what you’re telling yourself, your problems are my problems, baby,” he sighed, fingers massaging into the back of your neck at the first glimpses of tears gathering along your waterline.

“We can talk all night - hell, all week if you need to, okay?” he murmured, his soft tone eliciting more hot tears to run down your cheeks. They were immediately intercepted by Namjoon’s thumbs, your trembling lips soothed by soft puckers of his own.

“But please,” he pouted, his hand leaving your thigh to wrap around yours holding the warm cup of food, “please eat your soup,” his plea making you chuckle as you filled the spoon full of broth again.

Namjoon watched fondly as you guided the spoonful into your mouth, gently sliding his hands beneath your thighs to shift you sideways onto his lap.

“Okay?” He asked, tilting his head as he looked into your glassy eyes for confirmation.

You nodded, sniffling as you spooned the soup into your mouth. It was warm, comforting, just like your boyfriend.

“Okay,” you agreed, letting out a deep exhale as he wrapped his arms around your torso to hug you to him, laying his head on your shoulder as you continued to eat.

“Thanks for being my rock,” you swallowed the salty broth, watching Namjoon’s fingers fiddle with the hem of your shorts.

“You’re your own rock,” he affirmed, “I’m just the rainwater that washes away the dirt and grime.”

You snorted at the dorky sentiment, tilting your head to watch as his eyes crinkled in laughter at himself. You dropped your forehead on his shoulder, smiling at the sound of his healing giggles. You pressed your cheek to his shoulder, exhaling as he rubbed the warmth of his palm up and down your spine.

“Well, thanks for being my rainwater, then.”

#bts x reader #bts fanfction #bts fluff #bts angst #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon fanfic #kim namjoon fluff #kim namjoon angst #namjoon x reader #namjoon fanfiction #namjoon fluff #namjoon angst

[onewmin]

shreds | knj (18+)

Pairing: idol!Kim Namjoon x idol!fem!Reader

Summary: After almost eight years of dating, you boyfriend Namjoon asks you the question. However, you don’t really want to say ‘yes’.

Warnings: SMUT, minors DNI!!! A bit of handjob and fingering (m. and f. receiving), a bit of oral (m. and f. receiving), a lot of kissing, profanity, a bit of angst, some typos, reader has a thing for namjoon’s hair, pure confusion, an unhealthy relationship, reader is fed up and tired, a lot of cockblocking (both knj and readers hehe)

Author’s note: it is what it is, I don’t write happy stuff, as far as you can see lol hope you enjoy!! Please leave some feedback &lt;3

Disclaimer: the names and appearances of real people are used for inspiration and writing purposes only. I do not claim anything, everything belongs to its owners.

P.S. The pictures are taken from Pinterest, so if you know their owners, please let me know!

Part 2 is here &lt;3

“I’d rather be alone”.

Ouch. Harsh words spat at your not-so-ex-but-ex-but-we’re-still-together boyfriend when he is in his most vulnerable position — on one knee with a ring, ready to put it on your finger.

It’s not that you don’t love him, quite the opposite actually. It’s not that you don’t want to marry him: you’ve spent almost eight years waiting for the moment when he’ll finally be ready to go public with you. You should be the happiest person alive right now, shouldn’t you?

Well, no. You’re actually fucking pissed. You’re pissed at the choice of the place — your freaking apartment; you’re angry with him popping up the question when the two of you have just got together, again. You’re annoyed with his smiley face, his stupid dimples and sparkling eyes. What’s this asshole so happy about? Being rejected?

“It’s not like I’ll stop asking”, he replied, getting back on his feet. A small black velvety box is back in his pocket in an instant; he’s leaning against the kitchen counter, arms crossed at his chest and that look in his eyes. A mixture of love and lust, something you craved so much usually. But not lately. Not today.

“Please”, you rubbed you temples tiredly, “be my guest. I’ll say ‘no’ every time”.

He huffed, gaze following you around the kitchen. You’re used to it, to say the least. He’d come to your place, hang out, stay over, sleep over, fucking live here. You’d be having grand dates inside your apartment, but never, never out. Oh, well, maybe a couple of times you did. In over than seven years of dating.

“Whatcha cookin’?”

You let out an exhausted sigh, dropping the knife on the counter. “Your head on a plate. Get out of my apartment, Namjoon”.

Rubbing your eyes, you didn’t see him approaching you from behind. He wraps his arms around your waist, his breath tickling your ear. You hate him so much.

“Please, stop”, you utter, hardly trying to brush his hands off.

It always goes down the same road: he’ll hug you tightly, ask you to wait a little bit more (giving very reasonable excuses every time, like the lack of desire to ruin his public image or other bullshit) and you’ll end up underneath him, clinging onto him, begging him not to leave you again, again and again. You’re not sure if you’re able to put a stop to it.

“Don’t push me away, baby”. His husky voice hinted at the notes of vulnerability, hinted at him genuinely begging you not to do it. You don’t know how much longer you can last.

Pursing your lips together, you give in one last time, letting yourself melt again. He seemed to be an endless ocean, and you were drowning each and every time, no matter how much time has passed. It was just so pathetic how comfortable you felt around him, allowing him to do basically anything to you. Eating half of your food, occupying your bed with his huge figure, fucking you relentlessly and breaking your heart.

Is Kim Namjoon really that special or are you just this pathetically attached to him?

He pulls you from the flow of thought you’ve been going through by peppering small kisses all over the exposed side of your neck. You should just tell him to leave one more time. You know too well where such kisses lead.

“Namjoon”, you breathe out. He reads you like an open book, knowing the different tones of your voice. He stops immediately, freezing in his place, waiting for your next move.

You turn around, eyeing him briefly. Another stupid black turtleneck he must’ve worn to target you specifically. He just knows how much you love him in turtlenecks. His eyes are on you, watching your every move with caution.

“I can’t keep, uh…” You thoughts trail off, as you watch him lick his lips subconsciously. Shit, pull yourself together. “I can’t keep doing this. I’m tired”.

He cups your cheeks, forcing you to look back at him, a soft smile on his face. Shit. He knows how to get to you. “Baby, give us one more chance. Just one”.

“It’s not gonna change anything”, you mutter under your breath, eyes still glued to his. “No matter what you say or do, Joon”.

He took in a deep breath, one hand of his moving from your cheek to your shoulder, and the other on the waist. Your mouth went dry instantly, and the head was empty, no thoughts, no objections. Happened every time he touched you.

“Even if”, Namjoon’s nose brushed your cheek, his breath on your ear sending shivers down your spine, “I do this?” His words were followed by him pressing a kiss to your neck, to the spot he’s explored thousand times. And every damn one, you were weak in your knees.

“Ye-Yeah”, you breathed out, your head tilted away almost automatically. He let out a chuckle into your skin, sending goosebumps all over your body.

Another neck kiss followed the previous, and then another one, and another; in mere seconds Namjoon turned your stoic decision to never let him touch you again into mewling sounds leaving your mouth. His hands were on your ass, grabbing, squeezing, making you cling to his shoulders, whenever he sucked the skin in that sensitive spot again.

And when he broke away, eyes dark with lust, the look you’re so used to but never getting tired of — you glanced at his lips before pouncing at them with all pent up anger and frustration. Damn, you hated him. He kept you like a shameful secret on the darkest and dustiest shelf of the closet, refusing to acknowledge you even when he was able to. You were ready to put everything — your reputation, career, public image — at stake, you were ready to be hated. You were willing to do everything you could to finally be with him publicly, too. But he wasn’t going to claim you as his, ever. At least, not openly.

And that was more than frustrating. Infuriating, shit, seven years of dating and he still was ashamed and scared? That little moan you’ve always melted into left his mouth, when you bit his lower lip; so much of pure suppressed wrath landing right on him.

Breaths huffing into mouths, anger mixed up with passion, your hands pulling his hair, and him… Grunting, breaking the kiss to look at your red lips to drown in them again, Namjoon shoved you against the nearest wall. His hand hit it first, making your head press into it so that it didn’t hit the wall. You hated him for that too.

You wrapped one of your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, moaning into his mouth when his bulge brushed over your closeted core. A spineless asshole, you thought, while your hands grabbed his ass to pull him even closer, feeding me with empty promises for so many years just to propose all of a sudden? What did he expect? For me to say yes?

“I-I”, you whispered, when he was kissing your neck again, “I will never marry you, Namjoon”.

A sudden squeak left your lips as you felt his fingers dig into your hips with force. Clenching his jaw, Namjoon ferociously took you by the wrists, lifting your hands, pining them against the wall above your head. You gasped, still surprised by his sudden change of demeanor. He was enraged. Good. Let him have the taste of his own medicine.

“I’ll be asking you every day”, he purred in your ear, “I’ll propose to you in million different ways”. He slightly bit your earlobe, receiving a whimper from you. “I’ll do anything for you to say ‘yes’”.

“Yeah?” Your eyebrow raised in question. Brushing your lips over his, but denying a kiss, you continued. “Will you go public about our engagement or I will turn into your secret wife?”

An exhausted sign was his response. You took in the sight of a complete loss written across his face — shit, you knew exactly how this would go.

“Whatever”, you uttered, hands tugging his hair, pulling him in another breathless kiss. He indulged in it, his plushy lips parting yours to let his tongue dominate the kiss. You let him. You let him do whatever he wants tonight. You’re not going to ruin your last time together. Though, it’s not like he knows that.

You were unaware of being lifted and carried into the bedroom. Namjoon has this magical power to transcend the boundaries of reality, creating this bubble whenever the two of you are alone so that you are in your personal, secluded little world. And when you’re there, you always lose the sense of reality.

That’s why you were able to last this long. Whenever you spoke to your friends — some of them idols too, some of them not — they always said it would’ve been a nightmare to live such a life. Hidden behind several closed door, your relationship was sealed as something forbidden, harmful even. That was true, but at the beginning of your careers only, you thought. The more both of you progressed, the less you cared about what people had to say. And for some time, while living in this beautiful delusion, you though Namjoon was on the same page as well. Oh boy, were you wrong.

“What are you thinking about?” He asked breathlessly, obviously noticing your thoughts were drifting away from his head buried between your thighs. You wish you could focus on the pleasure he was giving you, but… Everything was too much. Him proposing out of nowhere, not agreeing on revealing your relationship — again — and your sudden decision to end this relationship for the good.

“You”, you whimpered, “you just feel so good”.

That wasn’t a complete lie: he did, in fact, get your head spiraling, you soul leaving your body each time he sucked on your clit. However, your mind couldn’t but come back to the anxious, shaking thoughts.

“Liar”, he breathed out, capturing your lips in another tentative kiss.

His kisses are hungry, and you catch him muttering in-between them how you interrupted him getting the dessert. Ah yeah, you didn’t come when he ate you out, it’s a direct insult. You’re giving in, swallowing his mumbles, replacing them with your own moans instead.

Tangling your fingers in his hair, your savoured every moment when his lips touched your skin. Pressing kisses to your shoulder blades, lingering touches on your chest, two fingers curled inside your pussy. He was too much, and he knew it; you were arching your back, digging nails in the sheets, whining, begging him to stop the torture.

“Joon, pl-“, you stuttered once again, when his thumb started drawing painfully slow circles on your clit.

“What is that, baby? I didn’t quite hear you”. Namjoon murmured.

“Please”, you breathed, hands gripping his shoulders, “please, please, fuck me, please”.

Under the blurred vision you still managed to see him smirking, while pulling his pants down.

“Your wish is my command”.

Your watched him reach for the nightstand, quickly taking the condom from the drawer. “D’you want to do it?”

You nodded, sitting up on the bed, head spinning from the sudden movement. Either iron deficiency or the foreplay, you thought, taking the condom into your hands. You looked at his cock, tip red and leaking with pre-cum, fucking waiting for you.

You wish you could put on a show for Joon, one last time. You wish you could get down, and put the condom on with your teeth. You wish you could, but you can’t.

Although there’s one thing you can do. He’s not gonna like it, you think, you won’t like it too. You desperately need him inside, to cling into him, to hear him whisper ‘I love you’s’ one last time. However, you can’t bring yourself to it.

The more you stay, the longer this goes on. The more you let him in, bringing your defense to the ground, turning your self-esteem in literal ruins — the less the arguments to leave him sound reasonable. He’s been your boyfriend for almost eight years, though, on the other hand, you weren’t partners at all.

Sure, you’ve met each other’s families. Of course they all predicted you two would get married and start a family, eventually. And at one point, you had to convince yourself that breaking up with Namjoon didn’t mean your parents breaking their friendship, so it shouldn’t affect them — but still, your families’ bonding was one of the things holding you back.

For some reason though, there’s nothing stopping you now.

The condom is still in its wrapper, so you put it down on the bed, Namjoon’s eyes following your every move. He raises his brows, not knowing where this is going. Your fingers linger over his tip, just teasing. Joon hisses at the slightest sensation, which almost brings you to tears: who else is gonna love you this much that the smallest touch of yours throws them over the edge?

Fuck him, the thought sprinted through your head, he only loves me behind closed doors.

Your lips sealed in a sloppy kiss. One of the hands, which wasn’t stroking his dick slowly, was entangled in his hair, again. You just loved the feeling of his soft locks in between your fingers.

Namjoon squeezed your waist, holding onto you for dear life, just not to lose his composure. As you broke the kiss, you lips left open-mouthed kisses along his jaw, moving to suck in the skin in that sensitive spot of his. You’re willing to mark him as yours in places where he’s never let you do that before.

“Baby..” He responded to your actions immediately, but didn’t lift a finger to stop you.

“Enjoy this while you can”, you whispered in his ear, leaving a trail of kisses alongside his neck.

You messily kissed his lips again, before breaking away. Looking in his eyes, you spit on your palm to bring it back to his cock again, to stroke him less slowly this time.

Namjoon rolled his eyes at the view, his head tilting away. He loved when you did this and looked into his eyes; to him, there’s just something… Something ethereal about you when you spit on his dick.

His hand reached to your bare pussy, to feel how wet you are, to bring the pleasure back to you — only to be slapped away.

“It’s about you, not me”, you gasp, images of him shoving his cock inside your pussy, pounding into you mercilessly fueling your burning desire for him.

Your thumb presses on his tip, drawing circles, thinking of how good it would feel to lick it with your tongue. Shit, you wish.

You give in to your wishes, finally. You just have to control yourself and not to yield to temptation fully.

You make him sit down on the edge of the bed, him obliging to every thing you tell him to do. Namjoon swears every time you get down on your knees in front of him, he’s ready to combust, to turn into ashes, just ‘cause of the way you look. Doe eyes piercing right though him whenever your head bobs up and down his length.

You both moan, when your mouth wraps around his tip. Your whimper is, however, more tempting to Joon, sending vibrations throughout his whole body.

With your mouth wrapped around his cock, your tongue starts its devilish dance. Leaving kitten licks with just the tip of your tongue, tasting the pre-cum with every move of yours, you feel his hand on the back of your head, massaging your scalp tenderly. You hate him for his softness even when you want to leave him.

Your hands stroke his dick, covering what your mouth can’t reach. The sounds you’re making are obscure, slurping, chocking, fucking French-kissing his dick. Namjoon is two steps away from being summoned to heaven.

“Shit, baby”, he hisses, his hands slowly guiding your head to make you go faster, “I’m g-, shit, gonna cum”.

Good. You bob your head up and down his length one more time, before letting his dick out of your mouth with a loud “pop”. As you stand up, naked in front of him, Namjoon’s gaze, clouded with lust, doesn’t leave the sight of your tits.

“What’s wrong, baby?”

His hoarse voice, gentle hands, soft locks. His darkened gaze, fingers on the small of your back, broad shoulders. Him. All about him is so beautiful, yet so painful. You cannot stay, you forbid yourself to stay.

If you stay with him one more time, you’re sure you’re not going to get your happy ending with him. He’ll never hold your hand in the park, he’ll never take you on a date when other people are there too. He’ll never leave the comfort of secrecy just because he doesn’t want to leave it. Namjoon doesn’t want to be with you in all meanings of it.

Yeah. You can’t stay.

His head is pressed to your solar plexus, your fingers in his hair again. The last time you’re going to be this close.

“I think we should break up”.

#kim namjoon #kim namjoon imagine #kim namjoon x you #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon smut #kim namjoon angst #bts rm imagine #bts imagines

[highvern]

Next Time

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x reader

Genre: Angst, suggestive, 18+

Warnings: no explicit smut but alluded, toxic relationship, fuck boy joon, hopelessly devoted reader, roommate/friend? Yoongi

Length: ~400

Note: wow my first BTS fic and I did my man dirty. Idk it feels right. He’s a Virgo. i love him tho and i would probably let him dog me bc im weak (written on mobile so don't kill me. to the anon that asked about WIPs earlier, this wasn't even a thought on my mind when i answered that so you can now see the chaos in action)

read more here

This blog is intended for 18+ only! Minors/blank blogs will be blocked!

The clock above the stove reads just the last two in the morning when you shuffle into the kitchen on shaky legs. 

Sterile light cuts the darkness through the cracked door of the fridge; your eyes protesting as you grab a bottle of water. Everything blacks out when you seal the room back off. But your outstretched hand finds the counter and helps you prop up while you take measured sips.

Half is gone by the time Yoongi joins you, plotting the same journey for a late night drink.

Yoongi doesn’t say anything. He never does. It isn’t the first time he’s watched his roommate implode only to find the same scene as tonight. At this point he’s Pavlov’d to the constant cycle of break ups and make ups. If Namjoon calls him with a complaint he knows to expect his friend to disappear for a day or you to show up like you are now; disheveled hair, bruised lips, and wrapped in wrinkled clothes after the closure Namjoon begging for. 

As fast as he arrived, he leaves back down the hall; the same words hanging in the air since the first time this happened.

You deserve better.

And it makes you feel disgusting because he’s right. Your friends are right when they echo the same beliefs. The voice screeching in the back of your head is right when it begs you to look at the evidence. You deserve better than anything Namjoon could ever hope to become.

And somehow, the only voice you want to listen to is the tragically optimistic whisper claiming this time it will be different.

But a universal truth is Namjoon never changes. He never changes because he never has to. At the end of the line, when he’s gotten everything he craved in a moment, you’re waiting. And even if you’re not, he knows how to find you and convince you he’s sorry and it’ll never happen again. 

Those two facts aren’t enough to keep you from curling back up in his arms and pretending Namjoon can give what you deserve.

At least until the next time he proves he never will.

-

Taglist: @tomodachiii @cvpidyunho @miniseokminnies @ddaengpotate @arycutie @gaebestie @primoppang @gyuguys @mine-gyu @doremifasire @missminhoe @toplinehyunjin @crvs4vldtn @prettygyuuu

© highvern. copying/reuploading/translating my work anywhere is strictly prohibited.

#kvanity #Kim Namjoon #Namjoon #Kim Namjoon angst #Namjoon angst #bts angst #Namjoon smut #Kim Namjoon smut #BTS smut #bts fanfic #bts x reader #🫡 highvern

[thebangtancloud]

hi! can i pretty please request a bts reaction to when they kick you out of the car during an argument but then when he goes looking for you after coming to his senses, you're nowhere to be found? make it really angsty please i'm in the mood for heartbreak; thank u so much, ily and have a great day ahead!

He can't find you after asking you to leave during an argument ~ BTS Reactions

Genre: Heavy Angst Warnings: Curse Words, Intense arguments, The reason for the argument in Jungkook's scenarios is quite ambiguous so you can choose any situation that you like.

A/n: Since you've asked for angst ;) also struggled to come up with a scenario for joonie who can't drive, like who'd ask the driver to get out of the car LMAO

Kim Namjoon:

The car had been parked at the side of the highway, your fingers trembling because of how firmly you were gripping the steering wheel.

"What is your problem, Namjoon?" you sighed in defeat. "You've been ignoring me for the past two hours. If you have a problem with me then just tell me. You didn't need to behave as though I was invisible to you in front of everyone. That was embarrassing."

Namjoon sat quietly in the passenger seat, bouncing his leg and looking out of the window at the passing cars.

"Just tell me what's the problem," you pleaded desperately. "Namjoon, talk to me-"

He moved away from you when you reached for his hand, staring back at you through the darkness of the car.

"You," he stated simply. "You're the problem."

"What?" you whispered in shock. "What do you mean?"

"I can't believe you, (Y/n). You-" he clicked his tongue. "You're saying that you were embarrassed? You embarrassed me, (Y/n). How could you have spoken that way to my parents?"

You turned to look away, pained at the words that were falling from his mouth.

"That was so unlike you? You're never this way, and it really surprised me to see the way you were talking with them. Not in a good way, by the way."

You nodded meekly. "I'm sorry, I didn't realize it."

"There's a reason why I've not been speaking to you, (Y/n). It angered me so much because my mum was clearly upset. I didn't want to talk about this until I was calm because I know you'd get upset. I just wanted to be by myself, I'm surprised you didn't get the hint already."

At least the darkness surrounding the two of you hid your tears away from Namjoon.

"Okay, alright. We won't be home for another forty minutes, do you think you could handle being with me until then?"

He sighed deeply, turning to look away from you.

"Could you like, give me some time?"

You breathed out shakily, understanding what he was meaning to say.

"Okay."

Without another word, you opened the door and stepped out, leaving the keys and everything that you had with you back in the car. You understood that Namjoon needed to be alone for a while, and truth be told, you couldn't stand staying in the car anymore.

So with the first breath of fresh air that you took in, you let the tears fall, keeping your head low as you closed the door and walked to the other side of the road next to the bridge.

~

Ten minutes later, Namjoon got off of the phone with his mum. Although she was upset, she explained that after speaking with Namjoon's father who had noticed you being incredibly nervous to be meeting them for the first time, she realized that you speaking casually and oversharing was just because you were afraid.

After giving it some thought, Namjoon understood that it was only natural. He'd seen the way you couldn't sleep the night before because you'd been too scared to meet his parents, and instead of comforting you, he misunderstood your intentions and decided to take his anger out on you.

Maybe he just wanted everything to go smoothly. But at least now he could tell you that his mother didn't take it to heart. So, slipping his phone into his pocket, he opened the door of the car to call for you.

Frowning in confusion, Namjoon looked around for a few seconds in search of you, but he couldn't spot you anywhere. He walked towards the bridge so that he could have a better view, turning his head frantically in almost every direction, hoping that he'd catch sight of you.

"(Y/n)?!"

He immediately reached for his phone to call you, but you didn't answer his phone. He gulped anxiously, suddenly realizing that it was too late for you to be out alone. He walked back to your side of the car to take the keys out and lock the door when he noticed your phone on your seat.

"Shit," he cursed under his breath, grabbing both your phone and the keys before slamming the door shut, turning first to the left and then to the right side of the highway. Which way should he take? You couldn't have gone too far, but he could lose you if he took the wrong way.

"I'm sorry, (Y/n)," he mumbled to himself, deciding to go left because it was in the opposite direction of the car. You could've walked that way so that Namjoon wouldn't notice you. He touched his forehead with fingers that were trembling, his eyes glossing over with tears of fear.

"I'm so sorry, please be safe."

Kim Seokjin:

"I don't understand why you're getting so worked up about this? Like - it's my kitchen too! I can cook what I want and when I want to? Why did you have to go and tell Yoongi to 'drive some sense' into me? What is actually wrong with you?"

"I can't believe you right now," you groaned in frustration.

"I have absolutely no problem with you cooking, Jin! The problem is that you cook like we're cooking for an entire army and then the food goes to waste! You keep saying you're cooking for the boys and then you leave the food back - which you don't even put in the fridge by the way - and then by the time we're both back home from work, the food is spoilt and stinking!"

"Why are you so bothered about it?" He yelled, raising a hand in question.

"Because I pay for the groceries, Jin!"

"Then get your hands off of it! For God's sake," Jin banged his hand on the steering wheel, "I didn't think I'd get married to a mother who never stops nagging! Sometimes I just wish you would shut up!"

"You know what? I will. I thought you'd be mature enough and at least listen to me!"

"(Y/n)," he sighed, clearing his throat and holding a hand up. "Don't give me that shit. I've been listening to you for the past few years. I'm tired of it now, okay? Just... stop. Please, give me a break."

"We're supposed to work through this, Jin."

"Well, I don't want to, okay?" He snapped, turning briefly to glare at you.

"Stop nagging me like a mother!"

"Then stop behaving like a stubborn brat!" You screamed back at him.

Jin's jaw clenched in fury, driving in absolute silence for a few seconds before he reached for the indicator. He stopped the car at the side of the road, unlocking your side of the door and pointing towards it.

"Get out."

"Why should I?"

"Get out of my car, (Y/n). If you think you're so great and mighty, find your own way back home. I can't stand being with you."

"How could you be so insensitive?" You asked him in disbelief, the sun that was streaming in through the window beginning to burn the skin of your arm.

"We're almost home! Just drive back without a fuss, will you?"

"No, I won't. I don't want to be with you right now. Please, just get out."

"Jin," you gasped. "Why are you doing this?"

"Just get out already before I say something that I regret!" He exploded, leaving you dumbfounded. A sudden wave of anger overcame you, opening the door in fury and stepping out.

"Screw you, Jin!"

Slamming the door as hard as you could, you began to walk away from the car, huffing in exasperation and holding a hand over your face to shield yourself from the scorching heat. The roar of the engine behind made you scoff, turning back to see Jin taking off without a second thought.

~

The screech of the tires over the ground of the basement made Jin wince, aggravating the dull headache that he'd been experiencing due to the heat. After parking the car, Jin reached over to take his sunglasses and wallet from the glove compartment, when he noticed a small carton of an ORS in the corner along with a sweet that you had kept in there.

A sudden wave of concern washed over Jin, realizing that you hadn't eaten lunch because of the fight that had taken place and you'd even left the drink and the chocolate back that you'd normally carry with you on a sunny day in case you felt dizzy.

Jin played with his lip, deep in thought. He reached home in 7 minutes, and the walk back home was around twenty minutes from where he'd left you. Without any hesitation, Jin turned the car back on, driving out of the basement of the apartment complex in search of you.

It frustrated him even more that you weren't answering his calls, hoping that you'd decline his call in anger so that he'd at least know that you're okay and were conscious enough to respond that way. But it kept ringing until he reached the automated voice message that said that you were busy.

After driving around for fifteen minutes, Jin gave up and got out of his car to go looking for you on foot, with the ORS and the chocolate in his hand in case he'd find you sitting down in some place due to weakness.

"Shit, (Y/n)," he whispered dreadfully to himself, not knowing how to find you, overcome with worry and regret. Wiping away the sweat on his forehead, he bent forward and gripped his knees, trying to catch his breath.

He hoped you'd be fine. Even if you would be mad at him for the way he spoke to you, he just hoped you'd be safe and alright until he finds you.

"I'm such an idiot."

Min Yoongi:

Yoongi had been sitting alone in his car for the past twenty minutes, silently cursing himself for behaving so horribly with you. His hair was a mess from the number of times he'd pulled at it in frustration, alternating between resting his head on the steering wheel and cringing at himself and then throwing his head back against the seat to yell out in frustration.

"I'm so glad no paparazzi saw us! I don't want to be seen with you! And even if they did, who would ever think I'll date someone like you?"

To top it off, when you had suggested giving him his space, he agreed and asked you to get out of his car. You did, of course. But you didn't leave. He watched you walk away from the car and sit on the pavement of the road, waiting for him to blow off his steam. But he had to - he just had to - drive off, leaving you stranded and alone.

He regretted it not even a minute after he started driving, but his anger didn't let him turn back. So he continued driving until the words that he had spat at your face finally made sense to him.

How could he have said that to you?

Yoongi really hated that quality about himself. He knew people's weaknesses and he also knew when and exactly how to use it against them when he was blinded by anger. But never had he regretted doing what he did more than he did now, sitting alone in his car after driving around the entire evening with no sign of you.

You'd turned your phone off, and he couldn't find you in any of the places that you usually go to. He called the boys and asked them if you'd gone there, but they all said no. He had even made a trip back home in case you chose to go there, but you didn't.

So, with tears in his eyes, he decided to send you a message, knowing that even when you'd turn your phone back on, you wouldn't answer his call. But he needed you to know what he had to say.

(9:46 PM) Yoongi: Darling, I'm so sorry. I've been looking for you everywhere, but I can't find you. Please, at least tell me you're alright. I don't even mind the 'seen' under this message, as long as I know you're safe and you're reading this.

(9:50 PM) Yoongi: I didn't mean what I said, I was just...so angry. I know it's a horrible excuse, but I swear, I was only angry.

(9:51 PM) Yoongi: What you told me this afternoon surprised me so much. Never did I ever expect you to have a history with Namjoon, and the fact that I didn't know about this hurt me even more. It made me insecure, I guess. I don't know. But I really could only think about why you didn't tell me this as soon as we started dating.

(9:55 PM) Yoongi: Please, believe me, I didn't mean a single word that I said. I even hate myself for telling you to get out of the car. That was so low of me. I understand if you're hurt and you want to be away from me, but all I ask of you is to just tell me that you're okay. Please.

(10:01 PM) Yoongi: I want you to know that I love you.

(10:05 PM) Yoongi: Please, come back to me

Yoongi looked up at the night sky, feeling weak and anxious. He regretted speaking the way that he did with you. He wished he could turn back time and simply apologize to you as soon as he had spoken them, even if you would've given him the silent treatment or cursed at him or told him off, at least he'd be relieved that you were safe and in front of him.

Now he had no idea where to go. He needed to get to you, yet he didn't know how.

"I'm so sorry, darling."

Jung Hoseok:

"I don't know, hyung!" Hoseok yelled out, frantic eyes looking around in panic. "She's not here!"

"Just calm down, she couldn't have gone far. Where did you leave her?" Seokjin tried to calm Hoseok down but he too was worried, although he tried not to show it.

Both Jin and Jimin tried to calm Hoseok down a few hours ago when the two of you were fighting over something as small as who'd cook the dinner that night, but it escalated within a matter of seconds and both the boys were flabbergasted when Hoseok started telling you things he shouldn't have.

It was only natural that Hoseok would feel anxious the way he was now, especially after telling Jin over the phone that he had kicked you out of the car on the way back home because you both had gotten into another fight, and now he couldn't find you.

"I stopped near this pharmacy, I thought she'd at least be safe and could catch a cab if she decided to go somewhere, but she's not here and the guy in the store said she walked to the opposite side of the street after buying a bottle of water from here."

"You little shit," Jin cursed Hoseok under his breath. "You could think of her safety but not about her feelings?"

"I do care about her," Hoseok defended himself with a deep frown. "I don't want her to get lost or hurt."

"What about the way you hurt her, Hoba?" Jin questioned him. "What about that?"

Hoseok sighed shakily, his gaze dropping to the floor. "It's all my fault."

"Damn right."

"I need to find her, hyung," Hoseok whispered into the phone. "It's getting late, I don't want her to be alone."

"What's on the opposite side of the street?" Jin asked.

"Uh..." Hoseok squinted, not being able to read the words on the store.

"Shit, I don't have my glasses."

"Hoba, just take a breath, okay? If you're not in the right state of mind, you'll not be able to find her. Just take a breath and think of where she could go."

"What if something's happened? She tried calling me after I left but I declined the call. What if she needed me?"

Jin fell silent on the other end of the phone. He looked over at Jimin helplessly who'd been listening to the conversation with a frown on his face. Jimin shrugged, not really knowing what to do.

"Wait there for a while and keep trying to call her. Jimin and I are coming, we'll look for her together."

Hoseok nodded wearily.

"Okay, hyung."

Sitting on his haunches, Hoseok gently wiped at the sweat that was forming over his upper lip, sighing sorrowfully and shaking his head in regret.

"You're talking as if I don't do anything in the house, (Y/n)! I pay the bills and I get you things that you like in the house - that are not cheap by the way! I wash the dishes after you cook dinner and make the kitchen into a literal war zone. And now you're telling me that I sit and do nothing?"

"That's because-"

"No. No, you're wrong. I work much harder than you, my job is physically demanding and you don't seem to even bother about how tired I get! You don't even work as much as I do so the least you could do is cook us a meal without making it into a big deal! Why are you being so ungrateful?"

Hoseok groaned, tugging forcefully at his hair and letting out a tiny yell into the distance. Would he ever be able to make it up to you? He wasn't too sure, but finding you was what he needed to do first.

Park Jimin:

"You're not getting it, (Y/n)," Jimin shook his head adamantly. "I can't do that and you know it."

"You've been missing so many events and you get away with the excuse of your work, Jimin. Can't you just make it this time? I'm not even asking you for my sake, it's for your own daughter's annual day at school, Jimin. She'd feel so proud to see you in the audience."

"Look, I get what you're saying..." Jimin pursed his lips in concentration when he had to take a turn onto the highway. Looking around distractedly, Jimin scratched his eyebrow before looking at you.

"Uh... what was I saying?"

"You're not even serious about this," you rolled your eyes.

"My train of thought broke, (Y/n)," Jimin sighed. "You can't blame me for trying not to get us into an accident."

"I never said that at all."

"You didn't need to."

"Jimin, I- ugh," you groaned out loud, slapping your thighs in frustration. "You always do this! You always tell me you can't make it and I'm left to play the bad cop and break the news to our daughter that her father can't make it to someplace she wants him to be at the most!"

"You don't even understand this, do you?" He turned to look at you.

"Do you even understand that I am a part of a band? That if I don't be present during a show, how big of a deal it would be? It's not just me but my managers and staff - including the members - would have to make up an excuse for my absence. It's not just a few kid's parents who would wonder where my child's father is, it will be the whole world questioning me, (Y/n)."

"Right," you nodded, turning to look outside the window. "As if being present in your daughter's life is not big enough of a reason."

"I am present," his voice rose slightly. "What are you trying to say?"

"So you really haven't been listening to what I've been trying to say."

"Can you stop telling me I've not been listening? I am, but I'm not getting your point because it makes no sense!"

"Arguing with you is pointless, Jimin."

"Then why do you even start speaking?"

"Because, Jimin!" You threw your hands up into the air, looking across at him incredulously.

"How are you not even understanding what I'm trying to say? I just want you to come for your own daughter's annual day and not some random stranger and you can't even do that! Why should I always be the one to tell her that you can't come? Why do I always have to hear her tell me how much she hates me because she's upset you're not there?!"

"You're overreacting," Jimin scoffed. "Okay, fine, I'll tell her this time, alright? Are you happy now? Is that what you wanted?"

"For fuck's sake." You closed your eyes, shaking your head at how difficult Jimin was being.

"There's no need to curse, (Y/n). Stop behaving that way."

"I can't stand you, Jimin," you muttered under your breath.

Jimin looked at you for a moment, feeling hurt by your words. Nodding to himself, he stopped the car by the side of the road, pointing out and gesturing for you to step out of the car.

"Go ahead and get to your friend's place by yourself. If you can't stand me then there's no need for me to drive you there. Go."

"Jimin, what are-"

"Get going, (Y/n)."

You stared at him, feeling cornered under his burning gaze, nodding and deciding that you didn't have any more energy to argue with him. You took your bag and opened the door, slamming it shut and walking away without turning back.

~

"Thank you so much for this," Jimin whispered in a rush, placing his daughter who had fallen asleep on your friend's couch.

"No worries, should I come to help you look for (Y/n)?"

"No, no," he shook his head, sighing shakily and glancing down at his daughter. "Just stay with her until we come to get her back. Thank you once again."

"Anytime, Jimin. I hope you find her soon."

He nodded, walking out of the door. "Yeah, me too."

Jimin had given you a call as soon as he picked his daughter up from school, but you didn't answer, so he'd let it be thinking you were upset with him. But then your friend rang him up asking him why you hadn't reached her place yet, and that's when Jimin got worried.

He did leave you in the middle of the road, and he took it for granted that you'd be fine and safe as soon as he left. But now it had been five hours with no sign of you, while your phone was out of reach for the last two.

To say that Jimin was afraid would be an understatement. The look on his daughter's face when she had fallen asleep had made him feel incredibly emotional, and the fact that he didn't know where you were and if you were fine drove him crazy.

So with one last look at the window behind which his baby was sleeping, Jimin walked back to his car, wiping away the first tear that fell from his eyes.

"Please be safe, (Y/n). Wherever you are, I hope you're safe."

Kim Taehyung:

"How could you make this big of a decision without telling me, (Y/n)?" Taehyung yelled across at you who were equally frustrated.

"Taehyung, this is my life. If I decided to buy that house, then you shouldn't be questioning me. And I've been working hard every year and it's not like I've not told you I won't be buying up a place. This has been my plan all along."

Taehyung looked at you in disbelief. "Your life?"

"Yes, Taehyung."

"So I'm nothing to you?" He turned back to the road, his jaw clenching.

"Don't put words in my mouth. I never said that."

"It goes unsaid, (Y/n)!" He exclaimed, exasperated.

"This situation would only be normal if I was nothing to you! How could you even make such a huge decision without me knowing?"

"It's not like I'm moving right away," you replied, shaking your head at him. His eyes widened comically, raising a hand up in question.

"That's... not even the point? Whether you're moving in three hours or three months, the problem is that you bought a house without me knowing. And it's not even in the state, for heaven's sake! Did you not think about us when you bought the house?"

"It was a great deal, Taehyung," you sighed. "I wouldn't have found a flat at a cheaper rate if I had waited longer."

"So you're fine with us doing long distance? With the kind of work both you and I have? You'll move out of our place?" He inquired urgently.

"Why are you thinking so much? We have a lot of time to sort all of this out."

"I can't help but wonder, (Y/n)," his voice cracked, looking into your eyes with tears glistening in his own. "I don't want us to break up, and I can't help but feel like you don't feel the same anymore."

"That's not true," you disagreed, avoiding his eye. "But just like how you've made your life and lived your dreams, I want to do that too, Taehyung. I want to live...too."

"When did I ever stop you?" Taehyung asked you.

"What do you think you're doing right now?" You questioned with a raised eyebrow.

He fell silent, eyes trembling and looking straight at the road in front of him.

"You think I'm stopping you from living your dream?" He whispered dreadfully. "Is that why you didn't tell me about this?"

You looked away.

Taehyung breathed in sharply, feeling threatened and hurt. Pulling the car over at the side of the road, Taehyung got out of the car and walked to your side of the car. Opening the door, he wordlessly unbuckled your seatbelt and tugged at your hand until you were standing up.

"Go."

"Where?" You whispered.

"Go live your dreams. Do what you want. If I'm stopping you in any way, I'm not the right person for you. I'd rather be alone than be a person you can't even share this big achievement of your life with, (Y/n)."

"Taehyung..."

"No. I can't believe I've made you keep something this big away from me, only because you feel like I will stop you. You're free to go do what you need to do."

You caught his hand for a moment but he slipped it out of your grip with a shake of his head.

"Just...go."

~

"(Y/n)... I don't know where you've gone, but please, call me back, please. I'm sorry, okay? I won't stop you from doing anything, I promise. I just want to know where you are, and if you're safe. Let me see you once, please. Just...call me back. I love you."

Taehyung sat on the swing after looking for you for the past four hours, not knowing what went wrong. He thought you would've gone back to your parent's house, but you didn't. He called all of your friends and his but neither of them had seen you. Taehyung even went to the extent of walking to every shop that you usually buy things from, but everyone told Taehyung that you hadn't come by today.

To say Taehyung was not afraid would be a big lie. He feared that you had left the state to the house you had recently bought, and the fact that you weren't answering your phone made his heart race in regret. He couldn't bear to let you leave just like that. Not without seeing you, not without holding you and telling you just how much he loves you.

Wiping away his tears, his eyes kept running over the digits under your name on his phone, desperately hoping that you'd call him back. he just needed to know that you were alright.

"I'm so sorry, (Y/n)."

Jeon Jungkook:

"Jungkook, don't do that!" Namjoon gasped from the backseat of the car, reaching over to catch Jungkook's collar before he could get out of the car, but Jungkook was faster.

He sprinted across to the passenger side of the car, opening your door and pulling you out of the car.

"Just... go."

"Jungkook-" Namjoon got out of the car as well. "Just calm down for a second, will you?"

"I cannot stand her anymore, hyung!" Jungkook exploded. "I've had enough!"

"It's okay, Namjoon," you nodded assuringly in Namjoon's direction. "I understand."

"No," he shook his head, grabbing Jungkook by the arm who was fuming with anger.

"Get your act straight, boy. Right this instant!"

"Hyung, please don't ask me to stop. I cannot. I just cannot anymore!" He finished with a yell in your direction.

The cars in the distance were a mere blur, the three of you rendered silent with heavy puffs of breath escaping Jungkook's mouth. He continued to shoot you cold glares which you kept avoiding in guilt.

"You've crossed every fucking line this time, (Y/n)!" Jungkook screamed, reaching you in a single step and shoving an accusing finger in your face.

Namjoon walked closer to the two of you, squeezing his way in between you and Jungkook and holding a hand up against Jungkook's chest.

"Back off, Jungkook."

"She needs to back off," Jungkook's eyes never left yours. "She needs to back the fuck out of my life. I'm done with her."

"Jungkook!"

"It's alright, Namjoon," you simply pulled at his t-shirt. "I don't blame him"

"Get in the car, hyung," Jungkook seethed. "Please! Don't treat me like a child this time. Let me handle this."

"Not if you're not handling it properly."

"It's okay, Namjoon," you murmured, pushing him out of the way. He looked down at you desperately. "It's alright."

"You sure?"

"Mhm," you nodded, hoping to keep up your strong front until he went back in. "I'll be fine."

"Right," Jungkook scoffed lightly. Namjoon looked conflicted, but he touched your arm tenderly before nodding.

"I'm only a call away."

A soft smile tugged at the corners of your mouth. "I know."

And just like that, Jungkook had Namjoon in the car within a few seconds, the tires screeching over the road before the car took off, leaving you in a place you had no idea how to get out of.

~

"You're a fucking jerk," Namjoon cursed at Jungkook, who sat quietly after they'd parked the car outside of the company building. "She was being honest with you and that's how you treat her? Do you have any idea how difficult it must have been to open up to you?"

"Being honest at what cost, hyung? I'd rather have had her not tell me this at all!"

"Don't you think that she might've not been able to keep it from you any longer? That maybe she trusts you enough to let you in on something that has been draining her with guilt and instead of comforting her, you kicked her out of your fucking car!"

Jungkook bit his lip, knowing that Namjoon was right somewhere down the line. Maybe he did overreact, but in his defense, even Jungkook needed some time to accept the weight of your admission.

"Should we look for her?"

"It's about time you came to your senses, boy."

~

Three hours in and never in his wildest dreams did Namjoon think he'd have to handle a devastated boy who just wouldn't stop bawling on the pavement of the road. They'd been looking all over, but to much dismay, neither of them could find you.

Three hours was also enough for Jungkook to finally realize the depth of the words that he had so easily spat at your face in a moment of anger, and there was no other word that could describe the fear that he felt in those moments.

"Hyung," Jungkook sobbed, grabbing his own knees pitifully. "Get her back to me, please!"

Namjoon sighed wearily, running a hand across the skin of his forehead and wiping away his sweat.

"I don't know where she could've gone, Jungkook."

"Oh god, no!" He wept, shaking his head frantically. "I need to tell her that I didn't mean anything that I said!"

"She'll be fine. Just wait for a while, Jungkook. Maybe she needs some time to clear her head."

"Fuck," Jungkook cursed in regret. "I'm such a jerk."

"Control yourself, Jungkook," Namjoon winced when Jungkook slapped himself across the face. "Stop that!"

"I need to see her! I need to tell her that I'm sorry, hyung! Help me!"

With tears pricking his own eyes, Namjoon turned away and ran a hand through his messy hair.

"She'll come back when she's ready, Jungkook."

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#bts angst #bts angst reactions #bts reactions #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts angst imagines #bts angst scenarios #kim namjoon angst #namjoon angst #kim seokjin angst #seokjin angst #min yoongi angst #yoongi angst #suga angst imagines #jung hoseok angst #hoseok angst #hobi angst #park jimin angst #jimin angst #kim taehyung angst #taehyung angst #v angst #jeon jungkook angst #jungkook angst #bangtan #bts ot7 #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts

[oddinary4bts]

Emotions of the Soul (teaser) | knj

☆summary: when Namjoon reappears in your life after thirteen years of absence, you find yourself unsure of what he means to you, and of what you mean to him. Anxiety reigns over you, but will it be enough to drag you away from Kim Namjoon?

☆pairing: Kim Namjoon x artist female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: childhood/teenage lovers to strangers to lovers, idol!au, smut, angst, fluff

☆warnings: alcohol, anxiety, a reference to the reader in Now We Reign if you guys can catch it, cursing, stupid teenage threats of m*rder, an appearance from the reader in Forever, pet names, paparazzi, imposter syndrome, an ugly teenage breakup flashback, explicit content: mentions of blindfolding, switch!Namjoon, big dick!Namjoon, switch!reader, oral sex (male and female receiving), jerking off, dirty talking?, balls fondling, face riding, breast play, fingering, protected sex and unprotected sex, praise, hair pulling (ish), ass slapping, tummy bulge (? lmao), choking, cumshot, cum eating, he calls her a slut in the heat of the action like once I think?

☆word count: 36.3k

☆a/n: I know almost everyone wants Sinful Lust first but it's not done yet whereas this baby is finally readyyy so here it is, I hope you'll enjoy it <3 As per always, thank you to @moonleeai for her incredible work as my beta reader! You’re the best <3

☆Read the other installments in the Life Goes On series here!

☆☆☆☆☆

“Kim Namjoon,” you repeated, tasting his name in your mouth for the first time since that ugly October night when you had told him you hated him more than anything in this world, and he had left without even a single look back.

You had never spoken after that. You had never talked about him anymore either, not to your friends or family. And when you had begged your parents to change school, they had caved in, letting you attend the same school as your cousin Miyoung.

Miyoung had been your closest friend since then, until Sooah had come into your life to form a trio with you and your cousin when you had attended college in arts.

“Yeah, he’s created quite a commotion outside,” Sooah commented, and you remembered the mop of black hair.

Could that have been Namjoon?

“And when he RSVP’ed, he mentioned that he would like to have a talk with the artist, so I hope you’re ready,” Sooah added, teasingly.

You glared at her through your mask. “You couldn’t have told me before?”

“No.”

You rolled your eyes once more, not so playfully this time, taking another sip of your drink. “He’s Kim Namjoon, you could have let a girl prepare.”

At that, Sooah laughed out loud. “Got a little crush?”

“Quite the opposite,” you said through gritted teeth.

You hated Kim Namjoon.

☆☆☆☆☆

Read the complete fic here!

#emotions of the soul #namjoon smut #namjoon angst #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #namjoon fic #namjoon #knj angst #knj smut #knj x reader #knj x you #knj fic #knj #kim namjoon smut #kim namjoon angst #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x you #kim namjoon fic #kim namjoon

[veethefreeelf]

RM / KIM NAMJOON Fic Recs (II)

M - Mature (minors DNI) / F - Fluff / A - Angst / HpE - Happy Ending

None of these works are mine, I tagged all the authors, make sure to go to the authors page, like and reblog their works

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[veeparkersstuff]

Happy birthday Namjoon🤍

(Like or reblog, don't repost pls🦀)

#bts #bts moodboard #btsedit #bts edits #bts smut #namjoon day #kim namjoon #kim namjoon angst #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoo icons #bts rm #moonchild #bts kim seokjin #min yoongi #jung hoseok #rap line #hyung line #maknae line #park jimin #kim taehyung #jeon jungkook #namjoon smut #namjoon fic #namjoon fanfic

[shina913]

Intersect, Part 10 + Epilogue | KNJ

Intersect, Part 10 + Epilogue

Definition: To meet and cross at a point; To share a common area

✫✫✫Intersect Masterlist✫✫✫

Pairing: KNJ x fem!reader

Rating: M (🔞)

Genre: Office!AU; enemies to lovers; fluff; angst; smut; NSFW

Word count: 9K+ words

Warnings: office banter; so-much-freaking-angst; excessive cussing; pining; missed opportunities; bickering; emotional outbursts; crack; airport chase; vulnerable confessions; fluff; hints of long-distance relationship; smut; fingering; mutual self-pleasure; breast play; nipple play; unprotected sex (don't do this); hair-pulling; praise kink; dirty talk; riding; creampie

Summary: You hate him, he hates you. You were both fine staying in your own lanes–until you’re forced to work together on a make-or-break project for your company.

A/N: So...here it is! It's quite the ride! I cannot believe this is the end. I'd like to thank Dee @deepseavibez and my sister--who is my number one offline enabler! You've both been super supportive as I ran ideas past you and sent snippets. I so appreciate all of your feedback and helping me create such a fun and sexy AU. Thank you for allowing me to scream with you about--what's probably one of my favorite fics that I've written so far! 🥰

As you might be able to tell, I love all the guys but I'm an absolute hoe for NamKook. Please enjoy and as always, please leave me feedback! It will come in handy in my next fic 😉 And now--it's wine o'clock! 🍷

Term/acronym notes:

TSA: The Transportation Security Administration is an agency of the United States Department of Homeland Security that has authority over the security of transportation systems within, and connecting to the United States.

The Met: The Metropolitan Museum of Art of New York City, colloquially "the Met", is the largest art museum in the Western Hemisphere. Its permanent collection contains over two million works, divided among 17 curatorial departments.

In math, lines are defined as straight, one-dimensional figures that continue infinitely in opposite directions.

Lines often meet or cross each other at a single point or sometimes known as the point of intersection. After straight lines intersect, there is no way for them to cross each other at another point. They would just continue on, going their separate directions–never to meet again, unless you go past the unknown confines of the plot area and given other variables involved.

However, if one of those lines were curved, that curvilinear line may cross the other at two or more points, much like how a river crosses multiple state or regional borders.

An intersection curve consists of the common points of two transversal intersecting surfaces, meaning that at any common point the surface norms are not parallel. And although the lines would not cross that same first point, the fact remained–they would meet again at a different one. 

******

“Are you sure you’ve got it?” You look at your brother pointedly after you run through all of your final reminders for the Nth time in the last couple days.

“Yes, Noona.” He rolls his eyes while sitting on your couch, playing his video game. Jungkook already had a few scheduled job interviews in the next two days. One was with a locally-based animation studio that produced internationally-acclaimed movies and the other with a social media conglomerate.

“Okay. Can you pause that and repeat everything that I just told you.” You called out from your kitchen. It was going to be the last few times you’d be cooking in this space–at least until you leave home for a year the following day. You check the oven for the bo ssam that you have been roasting since this morning.

Jungkook sighs in annoyance. “Rent is due every 30th of the month, unless it’s February. Call the building manager if the plumbing acts up again. No loud music, no parties, and…” he pauses while scrunching his nose to remember your final reminder.

You look up and turn around after you set the roasting pan on the counter.

“Jungkook–the last point is the most important.”

“Uhh…no girls?”

You sighed. “Nobody cares if you bring a harem here–as long as you clean up after yourself and stay safe.”

He grimaces. “Uhm…” You see his eyes wander while he racks his brain for the answer.

You groaned then pointed wryly to the exhaust fan above the stove.

“Ahh!” He finally remembers. “Always turn the fan on when cooking or the smoke alarm won’t shut up,” he grins proudly.

You nodded. “Good.”

He quits his game and walks over to the breakfast counter, leaning on it and watching you prepare the sides for your dinner. “You know I’ll be fine, right, Noona? I mean…I fended for myself at university for years. Just…trees and nature. What difference would the big city make?”

Since you’d only be gone for a year and your apartment was actually rent-controlled, you didn’t want to just let it go. So you managed to convince your brother to move into your place–to maintain the upkeep and to open himself up to opportunities in the city.

He decided to jump into the workforce and eventually enroll in grad school if the situation called for it–especially for career advancement.

You told him you’d pay the rent since you’d practically be making bank in a few months but Jungkook being who he is, said that once he got a full-time job, he’d take care of the bills. He’s always tried to be self-sufficient.

“I know you’ll be fine. I’m just–me, I guess. I worry about you all the time,” you admitted.

“Nothing to worry about,” he shrugs. “I have a new home for now–thanks to you. I’m also getting a job soon, hopefully. While you, on the other hand, will be jetting off around the world. If anything, I should worry about you, Noona.”

You chuckled. “I’ll be okay, Kookie. Besides, I’ll try to get home every fourth week–or every other month, at the very least. Haejin was completely fine with that.”

There was a palpable energy in the room. Many unspoken words and emotions still hung in the air–even after you had screamed and yelled out many of them at him this weekend. You wanted him to hear and feel your pain. In the end, you were none the wiser.

While you absently arranged the side-dishes, you felt your brother’s hands envelop you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder, sighing into your ear. He was much taller than you–and he reminded you of that often. But it was moments like this where he didn’t mind making himself small again.

“I’m sorry, Noona.” He wanted to make things better for you. He had been lighthearted about this whole situation–until you arrived back at your place.

Your palm patted his cheek lovingly. “It’s not your fault, Kookie.” 

“I wished things had turned out differently,” he murmurs softly.

You touched your head closer to his. “Yeah...you and me both,” you smile sadly.

You stood like that for seconds until you felt one of his arms reach around you and spot it pinching a piece off the roast to shove it in his mouth. He hums enthusiastically in appreciation. “C’mon, Noona. Let’s kill this bo ssam before it gets too cold!”

He pulls away from you, gives you a kiss on the cheek before grabbing the heavy dish and bringing it to the dining table.

******

“Very good insights, Jimin. Not only are your recommendations on the preliminary findings strongly supported by your quantitative analysis but I really love how you tied it in with the organization’s mission and vision. I’d be shocked if the client didn’t seriously take any of these suggestions to heart to make changes to their program.”

Jimin gives a quick bow then smiles proudly. “Thank you, director-nim. I learned from the best,” he says with a sweet crinkle in his eyes.

Celina beams at how much your guidance has impacted your team’s research approach and writing. If you had stuck around longer, she could only dream about how many more junior staff you’d be able to mentor.

“I miss her, too, Jimin,” she says earnestly.

Jimin proceeds to take his seat as Mirai gives him a smile and reassuringly squeezes his shoulder. Celina runs through the rest of the agenda items for the next half hour before she dismisses everybody.

“Alright–great work, everyone, as always. And please, don’t forget that we have a couple new candidates for our philanthropic efforts area who are scheduled to come in for interviews next week.”

Jimin and Mirai’s heads shoot up at the sound of that. It’s only been a couple days and there are already a couple of nibbles after your position was posted publicly for applicants.

“I know that Jisoo sent everyone the seminar reminders so, please, please attend the job talk in-person, if you can. I’m opening it up to mid-level and junior staff this year so we can really get some good input from everyone. We want the best–or at least someone close to it,” she says in a semi-resigned tone.

Everyone murmurs in agreement before they start to file out of the conference room.

“Namjoon?”

He halts his steps and looks back at her after she calls out to him.

“A word, please?”

He nods and walks up to the head of the table where she remained seated. She prompts him to take the seat adjacent to her and waits until they are completely alone.

She looks up at him from her cat-eye rimmed glasses. “So…let’s talk about your presentation.”

He groans and sighs. “I apologize. I know that it sounded a bit…uninspired–”

“I think the terms you’re looking for are ‘robotic’ and/or ‘lifeless’.”

Namjoon grimaces then shifts uncomfortably. “Ah–honestly, I’ve just been tired and I was trying to put several fires out today–I just didn’t prepare enough. That’s my bad and I promise to fix that before the final run-through next week.”

Celina paused while regarding him intently. She then slides her glasses off, sets them on the table then sighs. 

“Namjoon-ah, if I may?”

In many ways, he had looked up to Celina as a valuable mentor in the last few years and has learned many things about the business in their years of working together. For Celina, as much as Namjoon learned from her, she learned a few things from him as well. They both had mutual respect for the other.

“We’ve worked together a long time, correct?”

He nods.

“And after all these years, we’ve developed a certain level of trust, wouldn’t you agree?”

He nods again.

She turns and angles her chair to face Namjoon directly. She gave him a warm smile and a look–not as a superior to her subordinate but more of an older sister trying to have a conversation with a younger brother. She sighs softly before she begins. “Look…I know that we may not have the same relationship as you do with Hoseok but I’d like to think that you’d still listen to my advice, unsolicited or not.”

Namjoon knew what this was about. He was obviously dragging this weight around ever since he got back to the city from one of the shittiest weekends ever. He braced himself.

“You know…sometimes the best answers aren’t necessarily the most educated ones,” she looks at him pointedly.

He looks at her quizzically.

“And you don’t always have to go with the most logical, most sound decision,” she continues.

This was getting to be too much for him. He spent the rest of the weekend sulking–as if he hadn’t already received a good verbal lashing from you. “Celina–I know where you’re getting at.”

“No, Namjoon. You don’t. Because otherwise, you wouldn’t be sitting here in front of me right now.”

He scrunches his face in confusion. “Huh? I’m–we have a client briefing? Where else would I need to be?”

“I mean…you shouldn’t have given her up that easily.”

Namjoon sighs then hangs his head. “I…I tried, Celina. But–I think I was just too late,” he says quietly.

“Then you didn’t try hard enough,” she says sternly.

He shook his head. “She’s done with me, noona. And she’s leaving today. I can’t–-”

“Why would you do such a thing, Joon?”

He puffed out his cheeks and blew out a breath. “I did it because I didn’t want to be selfish. I didn’t want a repeat of what happened with Mayumi. I just kept doing what I wanted without asking her if it was what she actually wanted. With YN… you know, I’m ahead of the curve,” he shrugs. “I don’t have to make her wait around for years to realize that she could be doing something else.”

Celina furrows her brows. “Well, that’s the biggest load of bullshit I’ve ever heard.”

Namjoon leans back on his chair, taken aback by his superior’s blunt language.

She nodded. “You heard me. And I bet you she told you the same thing–or something to that effect.”

He didn’t argue–because she was right. In an effort to keep history from repeating itself, he inadvertently brought it with him to the present instead. It wasn’t the outcome that he had intended.

“What have you always said, Namjoon-ah? You know, whenever you talk to new-hires or when you mentor younger staff–what do you tell them?”

“Don’t confine yourself to a box.”

“Don’t confine yourself to a box,” Celina echoes slowly.

He sighs then laughs humorlessly. “I just let her go–how is that confining her into a box?”

“We’re not talking about her,” she says gently before leaning back against her seat, her eyes glued to him.

He sits there, eyes wide, mouth hanging open before he chuckles. “Celina, I am not–”

She shuts down his protests. “All these years, you repeat it like a mantra and yet here you are–boxing yourself in. You’re haunted by your past, Namjoon. I get it. You hurt somebody that you loved before and now you want to punish yourself–thinking you don’t deserve another chance. You’re not being fair to yourself.”

He flexed his jaw. “I figured I could get by just fine–kind of like you. You’ve always been able to keep a straight face–after what happened to you and Yoongi before.”

She laughed out loud. “You make it seem as if it was a walk in the park!”

“Wasn’t it? I mean–doesn’t it get easier? Eventually?”

She groaned. Women were built differently than men were. Women experience more pain in their lifetime compared to men, especially during their reproductive years. It wasn’t just a sad fact of life but it was scientific as well. Studies have found that the female body has a more intense natural response to painful stimuli, indicating a difference between genders in the way pain systems function. Biologically, researchers have also pointed out that a greater nerve density present in women may cause them to feel pain more intensely than men.

“No, Namjoon. The pain dissipates but–it’s always there. Especially when that pain is–earth-shatteringly unforgettable.”

Namjoon’s eyes flick downwards.

“I tried–I really did. And I thought I was fine…until…he was back in my life again. All of a sudden I–I just couldn’t help but yearn for him again. And even though I kept trying to talk my brain out of it–my heart just kept pulling me back towards him.”

At that point, Namjoon wondered if Celina ever knew about your fling with Yoongi…or if he had ever told her. And perhaps, even if she knew, maybe she didn’t really care at that point any longer since she got him back in the end.

“Do you want to be with her?”

Namjoon buries his face in his hands. “Yes,” he finally says after a long pause.

“Then go and be with her!” she exclaims.

“But what if–”

“Deal with the what-ifs as they come, Namjoon. This isn’t like a program or code that you and Hobi run all the time that spits out a predictive pattern of what the next few days or years would look like. Love is unpredictable. There’s no pattern to it. It just is.”

Namjoon looks up at her with determination but a hint of uncertainty. “I…I wouldn’t even know where to begin,” he says sullenly.

“Well–I’d start off by revisiting that generous benefits package that we gave to you when you got hired. You’ve been with us a while…When’s the last time you took a break?”

******

You give your brother a big hug before you go through the security line. It was a good three hours before your flight–a bit excessive, he thought, but he’d be damned if he ever tried to contradict you when it came to air travel logistics. “Thank you, Kookie.” 

He hums into your shoulder. “You’re welcome. Please call me when you get there, okay?”

You nod and give him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Love you, butthead. And stay out of trouble!”

He snickers. “Love you, too, Noona.”

He watches while you make your way through the winding nylon-strapped barricades. Although it wasn’t too crowded by your standards, you always tried to get to the airport two hours before your flight to quell some pre-boarding jitters.

After the TSA agent checks your identification and boarding pass, he waves you past the barricade to get on a line to set your personal items and carry-on luggage onto a conveyor belt before walking through the body scanner.

“Please make sure that you empty your pockets. If you have large, electronic devices, put them in their own trays before pushing them through the machine to scan,” the TSA agent announces to all travelers.

“Excuse me, miss?”

You look around making sure that he wasn’t addressing anybody else. You look up at the agent and point to yourself. “Me?”

“Yes. Are you sure you want to hang on to that?”

You look at where his attention is directed at and find that you were still hanging on to your phone.

“Oh, oops!” You then turn it off and tuck it into your purse that was already in one of the trays headed to the conveyor belt. You murmur your apologies and the security staff gives you a small smile–it was a relatively normal occurrence.

******

“C’mon, YN…pick up. Pick up!” Namjoon mutters while he holds his phone to his ear as he paces back and forth in front of the office building, waiting for his rideshare.

His calls to you kept going straight to voicemail and he starts to panic thinking that he’s completely missed his chance. Before he headed downstairs, he asked Jimin and Mirai if they knew anything about your itinerary–and although each of them had their own reservations about him, they were honest with him and told him that they had no idea.

When the car finally arrives in front of him, he gets in, while dialing your number a few more times.

******

You stood behind a few people, with your socks on the questionably gray carpet. One traveler had apparently packed all of the liquids imaginable in his carry-on luggage. You rolled your eyes as you watched him empty out each container.

Just before this one, another person had brought, erm…some ‘special electronics’ that showed up prominently on the scan. Once the agents pulled their luggage out of the line to open it for inspection, they found that the items in question contained multiple, disposable lithium-ion batteries.

You were embarrassed for them, admittedly. On the other hand, you were glad that you had the presence of mind to check-in your own ‘special electronics’. If someone had to inspect your things, at least you wouldn’t be standing there with hundreds of people staring.

You finally walk through the body scanner. As you step off the platform, you wait a few seconds while they review the image. You are then waved off by the security staff to proceed and retrieve your things. After you put your shoes back on and sling your backpack and purse on your shoulder, you turn around once more and wave goodbye to your brother–who stands on the other side of the glass before you head off to your flight’s boarding gate.

“Shit, shit, shit,” Namjoon curses at his phone–then he suddenly gets an idea. He dials a number on his phone.

As Jungkook pivots and prepares to leave, his phone rings. He fishes it out of his pocket and knits his brows as he makes out the caller ID. Principle compels him to reject the call. But empathy propelled him to push the green button to answer.

“Hyung?”

******

The gate was still empty when you arrived. You parked yourself by a counter and set up your laptop to check emails. Indeed, there were already a few from Haejin and KimCorp’s HR team welcoming you with some onboarding documents.

While you get lost in reviewing them, you didn’t even realize that you forgot to turn your phone back on.

******

“Yes, but–couldn’t we just reason with them and tell them I just need a few minutes?” Namjoon rambled.

He then turns to Jungkook. “Or, or–maybe we can tell her to come back out?”

Jungkook shakes his head slowly. “Oh, hyung–you’re talking about asking YN-noona to come out after she’s gone through that security line from hell?” He shudders, eyes laced with a tinge of fear.

Namjoon runs his fingers through his hair in exasperation. “Any luck with her cell?”

Jungkook grimaces. “She must not have turned it back on after getting past security check,” he says as he attempts to dial your number again–which, to no surprise, goes straight to voicemail. Again.

Namjoon mutters to himself then turns his attention to the ticketing agent standing behind the counter. “Are there any more flights to New York City scheduled to leave within the next couple hours?”

“Sir–I’m really sorry, but those flights are sold out today. It's summertime so–it’s a bit of a busy season. Might I suggest a different flight?” The ticketing agent says apologetically.

Namjoon groans and buries his head into the crook of his elbow while he leaned onto the counter for support.

The ticketing agent takes pity on him. “We can get you a refundable ticket? If…if you just want to get in there?”

Jungkook’s eyebrows lift and he turns to Namjoon. “What do you say, hyung?”

He looks up. “Fine. Give me one ticket to whatever cheapest destination that you have.” He says as he pulls his wallet out.

“Just one? You hold me up at the airport and I don’t get to see how this plays out?” Jungkook says with a slight pout.

Namjoon sighs. “Two tickets, please.”

The agent types into her computer then looks up at both men after the results turn up on her screen. “I assume neither of you have your passports currently?”

Both men shook their heads.

“Okay, but you have your driver’s license or a state-issued ID, right?”

Both men nodded.

“So...I have two tickets to Las Vegas.” She looks at them pointedly.

“Sounds like fun!” Jungkook says excitedly.

Namjoon gives Jungkook a wry look.

“I mean–you know–if we were actually going,” he mumbles to himself.

******

Seconds after they get through the security line, they run around haphazardly across the terminal.

“Jungkook-ah, do you remember which gate she was at?”

“Sorry, hyung–my memory is not very good under stress,” he winces. “I think–she said–A30?”

“Fuuuuckk–I forgot how many gates were in this terminal!” Namjoon barks as they run, then stop to look around each gate, trying to find out if you’d be there. 

“...Or—was it B30?”

Namjoon freezes then whips his head around at Jungkook. “Did you say ‘B’? Jungkook–’B’ means she could be in the next terminal! Meaning we have to take a tram there!” He yells in a panic.

Jungkook flinches and Namjoon realizes that he was projecting his own frustration at the one person who was trying to help him.

“I–I’m sorry, Jungkookie. I didn’t mean to snap at you. I’m just–”

“I know, hyung.”

Namjoon sinks down, his full weight sitting on his hamstrings. “I really fucked it up with her, didn’t I?”

Jungkook mirrors Namjoon’s position. “Hey–it ain’t over ‘til it’s over, hyung. When have you ever backed down when it came to her?”

He looks at the younger one in curiosity.

Jungkook chuckles. “For two years, I’ve listened to her bitch about you. Almost every night…without fail. ‘Namjoon this, Namjoon that–Fuck him!,’” he mocks your voice. “You were like a puzzle she couldn’t crack. It drove her absolutely nuts! Then–when I finally got to know you, I realized that,” he snickers, “You were basically the same…like lines running parallel against one another. All you needed was to…tilt a little bit to make contact.”

Namjoon lets his words sink in. He didn’t realize how deeply Jungkook felt. He knew at that moment that he had to try. It was a shot in the dark but he had to try. He had to.

Jungkook rises and stretches his hand out to help Namjoon up. “C’mon, hyung. It’s a good thing noona likes to get to the airport extra early. We could still catch her.”

Namjoon takes his hand and straightens up. “I guess. Otherwise, if this doesn’t work out, at least we’ll have flight vouchers to Vegas?”

Jungkook shrugs as they proceed to walk through the terminal, checking each subsequent gate they pass.

******

You had since moved to a corner of your boarding gate as a couple began to argue while you tried to work quietly on your laptop. You stuck your headphones in and continued to plug away at your emails that kept coming in.

“This is not gonna work, Jungkook,” Namjoon says. “I just saw on one of the monitors that one of the flights to New York City had just finished boarding–”

“Don’t lose faith, hyung–we’ll find her!”

“I don’t know, I don’t know–I’m just–I can’t think.” He looks up and sees that they are only halfway through the terminal and there are about 10 more gates down the line.

Jungkook sees him crumbling in frustration at the sight of how much further they have to go. In an act of desperation, Jungkook takes a deep breath…then screams at the top of his lungs. 

“YN-noonaaaaaaaaa!!!”

Seconds later, several people peek out of a few gates to see what the commotion was about.

You faintly hear something that sounded like an alarm or a screech through your noise-canceling headphones but thought nothing of it until you saw some passengers from your boarding gate rush over to the center of the terminal aisle.

Thinking it was an emergency and coupled with your intense fear of missing out, you get up from your corner and walk towards where people started to crowd, craning your neck to take a look.

You gasped in horror as you spotted two knuckleheads standing in the middle of the terminal, blindly searching through the crowd.

You were mortified and seriously considered getting back into your corner and pretending that you did not know these people. But as soon as you lock eyes with your brother, you see him tug at Namjoon’s jacket to call his attention and murmur something to him. 

“I think that worked out well, look!” He looks pleased with himself while he points right at you.

You cursed under your breath. “Why me?”

Namjoon turns around, along with hordes of other people, to see you standing at Gate A33, looking like daggers were about to shoot out of your eyes.

“Now it’s your turn, Namjoon-hyung,” he says while patting him on the shoulder as onlookers start to disperse.

******

Jungkook left you and Namjoon to talk in a quiet corner in a recently emptied gate. There was at least another hour before your flight was scheduled to begin boarding. You sat side by side, him facing you, while you looked straight ahead.

“You’ve got a lot of nerve, Namjoon.” You said under your breath.

You weren’t sure how you’d live this embarrassment down. Thankfully you were able to explain yourselves to airport security and made up an excuse saying that your brother had a rare illness that made him prone to sudden emotional outbursts. Once they were able to deduce that neither of you were armed nor had any questionable histories, they let you all off with a stern warning.

“Please–I just need you to listen for a minute. If you think I’m still full of shit, I will carry you to the boarding gate myself.”

You sighed deeply before you turned your head in his direction. After tense emotions from last weekend, you weren’t sure what else to expect from him. You were still feeling raw and emotional since your outburst. Truthfully, you were anxious about what he had to say. You weren’t sure how much more emotional trauma you could handle before a cross-country flight.

“YN, I fucked up. You were right…I saw all of the similar signs from last time and alarm bells just went off in my head. It freaked me out. I thought that I was trying to protect us both from getting hurt. After all that, we got hurt anyway.”

He looks up at you and seeing as he still holds your attention, he continues.

“Somebody knocked some sense into me–practically bashed me over the head with it…repeatedly.”

He sees a ghost of a smile on your face. That modest reaction from you already makes his heart swell tenfold. It propels him forward.

“I spend a lot of time trying to make smart decisions. Logical determinations. I use the same problem-solving approach as I do in all of my data analysis, and apply it to my real life. Many times, I get too caught up in the details and miss the big picture.”

The irony wasn’t lost on you. This same man who appreciated Georges Seurat’s paintings–would rather spend all of his energy examining a cluster of dots rather than stepping back to view the portrait as a whole.

“I’d be staring up at the trees–when I really should have been looking at the whole forest.”

Your eyes softened but you didn’t lower your guard completely. You were still hurt by what he did.

He rubs his moist palms onto his pant legs. “Sorry–I’m…I’m just nervous.” His lids flick downwards. You affected him just as much as he affected you.

“It’s okay. You can…keep talking to me about trees…or pictures,” you gently urged him. 

He slowly peers up at you from between loose strands that lightly brushed over his eyelashes when he blinked. After a beat, he found the strength to hold your gaze. “I love you, YN.”

It took all of your energy not to slap him then–but at the same time you also wanted to grab his face and kiss him. Your breath hitched and you bit your lip at his declaration. You still loved him–you never really stopped. But you were in an incredibly difficult position.

“Namjoon–”

“I knew it right when I got on that plane to come see you. I’ve never done anything so impulsive in my life. You…make me feel all of these things and because of that, I can’t think straight.”

He leaned in closer to you. “But I don’t mind it all because…I’m crazy about you. Screw logic and practicality. You make me happy. And I know I hurt you–because I’m a huge idiot. But I promise to make it up to you, if you’ll let me.”

He was making an earnest plea and you could see that he meant every word. But the fact remained–you had a flight to catch and a new job that you had to learn. 

“Namjoonie…you know this doesn’t change things just like that, right? I’m…I’m still leaving and taking this job. I’m going to be away for most of the year–”

“I know,” he replies.

Your eyebrows flick up at him. “So–you’d be okay with long-distance?”

“No,” he says simply.

Your face twisted in confusion. “Then…how would you make this up to me?”

“I’ll come with you.”

Now you were really confused. “H-how?”

“See, this is where Logical Namjoon comes in,” he says with a knowing smile.

“I put in my papers for a sabbatical–Celina suggested it.”

Your eyes widen at his revelation. 

“I’m just waiting for HR to approve it–which they will. I just have to take a few weeks to make arrangements to cover my projects and–”

“Wait,” you interject. He had told you about how Mayumi resented him for holding her back from her ambitions and essentially feeling forced to move her life around.

“I–I don’t want you to make all of these changes for me. Because then I’d feel guilty about you trying to mold your life to fit mine.”

He shakes his head adamantly before reaching out tentatively to take your hand. “This is different. You didn’t ask me to do this. I made this choice. And I choose to be with you, YN.”

Your hand squeezes his in reaction. “Joonie, I…I don’t know what to say.” For once, in all your years of bickering with him, you were at a loss for words.

“Tell me you want to be with me, too? Otherwise, I’ll run out into the tarmac and just have one of those planes run me over,” he chuckles nervously.

You stared at him for a beat then smacked him on his chest. “God, of course, I want to be with you!”

He beams at you, both dimples in full display. “Really?”

You nodded.

“Then c’mere and kiss me then,” he says cheekily.

You respond to his sudden smugness with a cocked eyebrow and matching scowl.

He dropped his voice so only you could hear. “Keep looking at me like that and see what happens.”

Your face heated up under his gaze and you instinctively pressed your thighs together. Swallowing hard, you quickly glance over to where your brother stood–he was a fair distance away, distracted by his phone. “You wouldn’t dare–”

His brow quirks before his eyes dart over to the gender-neutral bathroom in the corner. “Wouldn’t I?”

You bit the inside of your cheek to refocus. “While that is incredibly tempting…” Your brows quirk up and your eyes flick over to where your brother was, still busy scrolling through on his phone.

Namjoon smiled. “I can hop on a plane in a couple days? Spend the weekend with you?”

You exhale sharply. “That’s all great, Joon. And believe me, there’s nothing that I want more than to be with you right this second…”

“But?” He asks carefully.

“But–I want to make sure that this is what you really want. We’ve…we’ve said words to each other before this. Words that we can’t take back,” you stare at him intently.

“I know. But it still doesn’t change how I feel.”

“Neither does it change how I feel,” you quickly added to assure him. “But like you said, you don’t want to make snap decisions. You have to carefully consider everything.”

He nods. “I have. And–every angle, every possibility I’ve thought of…still includes you.”

Your heart soars. Days ago, this same man brought you to tears. It pained you to still have some leftover doubts from how everything had gone down.

But he was here in front of you, breaking every self-preservation rule he’s ever set for himself. It counted for something—and you weren’t about to disregard that.

He smiles earnestly. “How ‘bout this? If you’re okay with it, I’ll book a flight…I’ll stay for a weekend–we can talk some more.” His thumb works circles around your hand that he still held. “I know that one conversation won’t fix everything–”

“But it’s a start,” you finish with a smile.

“Yes, it is,” he agrees. “We’ll take it slow–whatever’s comfortable–”

Your eyebrow quirks up. “Now you say you want to take it slow? You? Who basically just threatened me with a bathroom quickie minutes ago?”

He laughs heartily. That low, sexy rumble from within his chest that you missed. “Can’t blame me for being a romantic,” he teases.

Right then, you hear your flight being called to board on the loudspeaker.

******

After giving him a lecture about public embarrassment, you give your brother another hug goodbye before turning to your tall human, who cups your face in his hands and kisses you softly. When he pulls away, he sighs, then presses his forehead against yours.

“I’ll see you soon,” you say.

He groans. “Four days will be torture.”

You smiled cheekily while you rested your hands on his chest. “I’ll call you when I get to the condo.”

“Okay,” He nodded.

“Just…” you paused for a beat, thinking of what to say before you headed back to the boarding gate. “Hurry up and get back to me, okay?”

He smiles warmly. “I’ll be back in your arms before you know it.” The butterflies in your belly flutter while you watch his dimples sink deeper into his cheeks. “I love you.”

“Love you.” You gave him another quick peck before you backed away from him to walk closer to the entranceway to the jet bridge.

Unlike the last time that you walked away from him, this time held a bit more promise. There were still a lot of things that you had to feel out together. A lot of unknowns…a lot of possible unknown variables. But one thing was sure–was that you’d figure them out together.

******

Namjoon arrived after the end of a busy first week for you. Between the jet-lag and all of the new information that you had to learn, you just wanted to take it easy. You didn’t want Namjoon to feel like he had to stay with you, especially since he’d been talking about exploring the new collection from The Arts of Korea exhibit at The Met.

“I’m telling you, I’m perfectly fine staying in with you–as long as you don’t mind.”

You smiled while you were both sprawled on the couch in your sweats, with the TV on. You sat on one end with your head leaning back on the arm rest, your knees folded up comfortably against your chest while he was on the opposite end with his legs stretched over the ottoman.

You chuckled. “This must be killing your extravert energy.”

He laughs before taking both your ankles, stretching your legs and propping them on his thighs.

“I’m comfortable. That’s all that matters,” he smiles. “Did you have a good day, at least?”

You nodded. It was a trying few days and at the end of each one, he called to check in with you, saying words of encouragement and reassuring you that this was just first-week jitters.

You hummed while he rubbed your tired legs soothingly. “I missed you,” you said softly as you leaned your head on the cushion to the side.

He smiled at you. “You did?” You nodded and closed your eyes as he kneaded your sore calves gently. “That feels nice,” you sighed.

Like clockwork, you feel a twitch by where your feet rested. Your eyes fly open to find him shifting uncomfortably.

You giggled and withdrew your feet from his lap while he readjusted himself.

“Uhm–are you okay?”

He sighs, glancing at his straining hardon, seemingly at a loss. “Sorry. Just need a minute.”

“Since when are you shy all of a sudden?” You teased.

“Since we talked about taking it slow,” he reminds you.

You sit for a few seconds in awkward silence, while you steal glances at him. “D-do you need help? Ice, maybe?” you suggest off-handedly.

“Nah, no–I’m…I’m fine,” he says as he pulls his legs off the ottoman to try and hide the distraction.

You leaned back on the couch, watching him intently while he kept his eyes glued to the TV screen.

A ghost of a smile plays at your lips and you shift from your position on the couch.

Somehow, Namjoon sees you out of the corner of his eye. “W-what are you doing?”

He watches while your hand is down past your waistband, moving subtly underneath the material.

“What do you think?” You answer his question with another, your voice already coated with surging arousal. Your hand moves in a pattern familiar only to you–circling, rubbing.

Namjoon couldn’t take his eyes off you while your own eyes rolled to the back of your head, lolling from the pleasure from your own ministrations.

“I…I thought we were going to take it slow?” He says almost inaudibly.

You moaned softly. “We said nothing about touching ourselves.” Your breath hitches as you dip two of your fingers to your cunt, using your own slick to pleasure yourself further.

Before he knew it, he was pulling himself out from his own sweats, stroking himself. Your mouth started to water uncontrollably.

“You said you missed me,” he rasped.

“Yes,” you said breathlessly as you started to grind your hips against your palm.

“I missed you, too…a lot,” he gives the tip of his cock a squeeze. “I miss being inside you.”

You feel your panties soak through. You lift your hips and slide your sweats and panties off, tossing them wherever–you’d worry about it tomorrow.

“Fuck,” he hisses out while he watches you spread your thighs in front of him, picking up where you left off.

You clench your teeth while you continue to massage your clit while he looks on. You couldn’t pull your eyes off him either–watching the tip of his cock engulfed in his palm. The combination of rubbing and squeezing brought a flush to his face, while he groaned in pleasure. You pressed your thighs together as your free hand slid up your t-shirt to rub over your aching breasts. 

Your legs relax and knees fall to your sides in a lewd way, giving him a full view.

“Is that what I do to you?” He asks.

You played coy even though you were absolutely hot for him at this moment. “Sometimes, yes.”

He smirked. “This is what you do to me–all the time.” He cupped his balls in one hand and his cock in the other. You salivated further at the visual.

You alternated sliding your fingers into your core, curling your fingers up, massaging that ache–wishing it was his dick instead.

Oddly, you found it intimate–as intimate as when he was inside you, maybe more so because you were both wide open and on display. Your pleasures reflected in each other.

“Fuck taking it slow,” you finally blurted out. You then moved quickly–almost at the speed of light to where he sat, to straddle his hips.

You caught his mouth in a lush, deep kiss. You pushed your fingers into his hair to hold him still while he kissed you back, his tongue sliding along yours.

Pulling away, you pull your shirt and bra off quickly while you watch him pull his own hoodie off and toss it away. You lift yourself slightly while your hand reaches below to line him up to your center. Slowly, you sank into him.

His head lolls to the back of the couch, his mouth goes slack while you take him in deeper. Once you took him to the hilt, you gripped his shoulders. Your hips moved off their own volition, instinct was taking over. Your thighs clench and release while you focus only on the moment–reclaiming his body…and his heart.

His arms banded around you possessively—holding you in place, halting your movements, taking you by surprise. He leans forward once more, until your lips touch.

Irritated and impatient, you gasped, “Why are you stopping—“

His expression hardens. He knew you wanted to cum, badly. “No, baby…we said, slow,” he says lazily against your mouth.

His voice commanded authority—the same voice he reserved to object or argue during meetings—it was a warning to others that it would be a tactical mistake to challenge him…which you frequently ignored. This time, you were all too willing to pay attention.

He hitched his hips, rubbing against you. The friction of his thickness surging and grinding into you was too much for you to stay still for too long. You bucked your hips in perfect sync with his leisurely movements. Your senses fully spiked with arousal.

He worked you with his cock, exploiting friction, changing angles and depth of penetration. The nuances of his skill were evident whenever he watched you writhe beneath him. For now, he was only focused on the sensations he stoked in your body. You were definitely feeling him now.

He was always so attuned to your body despite all of that time that passed when you were apart. A whimper escaped your lips, mouth suddenly parched at the promise of an orgasm while he fucked you slowly and raw. 

“That’s it,” he murmured, “Keep rubbing your cunt against me like that.”

“Fuck…Joon…” Your hands were gliding all over his chest and shoulders, your body arching and grinding into his. 

“Oh, shit–you’re close…I can feel it.” His breathing, equally becoming labored as he feels your walls clench repeatedly around him.

Damn him for being so familiar with how your body worked.

You came again with a long and drawn-out moan, the tension breaking in a rush of relief.

His mouth covered yours, drinking in the sounds that you made as you jerked on top of him. You clutched his hair, kissing him hard while you rode out the rest of your high.

Somewhere between catching your breath and coming out of your orgasmic haze, you felt yourself lift off the couch. Were you flying? What was going on?

Next thing you knew, your back hit the plush covers on your bed.

He sits back on his heels and watches you for a moment, waiting for you to come back to your senses. You blink up a couple of times at him.

He then taps on your knees gently. “Open up,” he ordered.

Your pulse quickened as you obeyed him, allowing your thighs to fall open. The feeling of vulnerability under his piercing gaze was so intense. You were absolutely entranced.

He stroked a finger through your folds, gliding teasingly over your clit. “You like that?” he asked softly.

Your belly quivered at the rasp in his voice. You shivered as the tip of his finger circled the clenching opening. “Hmm…yes.”

Eyes dancing with delight, he slid a finger ever-so-slowly inside. He made a low purring noise and caught his lower lip between his teeth, a purely erotic look as he watched your face contort in pleasure.

The pleasure of his touch spread, tightening that familiar knot in your stomach and hardening your nipples. You clutched your bare breasts in your hands, squeezing them as they swelled.

His finger went deeper. Heat swept over your skin like a fever. Hovering over you, he placed one hand on the mattress and lowered his mouth to yours. His thumb pressed against your clit and rubbed expertly, massaging you inside and out.

He nipped at your jaw, then moved to your chest, nudging your hands aside with his lips. He claimed your nipple in a gentle bite, his mouth surrounding the tender peak and sucking softly. The ache he created within you was so sharp.

“More, please” you gasped, needing his pleasure as much as your own.

“Always so greedy, huh,” he murmured, his mouth curving in a wicked smile against my skin.

You groaned in frustration. “I want your cock inside me, now.”

“As you should.” He dragged his mouth across your chest and curled his tongue around your other nipple, flickering teasingly over it until it ached for suction.

Your body writhed as you rode his finger shamelessly. He added two more and you dug your heels in, arching up to meet his thrusts. “Joon, please…I want you.”

He sat up again, and you finally got a full view of him in all his glory. You were slightly disappointed when he only allowed you to ogle at him for a few seconds before crawling up to you to push his cock deep within you.

Then in one swift move, he rolls you both over until you were on top once more.

“C’mon, YN…you wanted it so badly…ride it.” He was throwing the gauntlet–which you were all-too-willing to pick up this time.

Rolling your hips, you relished the feel of him filling you so perfectly. No shame, no regrets as you worked yourself into a frenzy on his cock, adjusting the angle so that tip rubbed right where you needed it. He sits up, also unable to just lay back and watch.

“You’re so beautiful. Mine,” He gripped the back of your neck in one hand and your hips in the other, arching his hips to push a little deeper. Squeezing and plumping your flesh. 

“Yes, yours,” you rasped.

He drags his lips from the crook of your neck then up to your mouth, catching your ragged breaths and exchanging them with his own.

“Ahh…fuck. Don’t stop, baby…don’t stop,” he groaned into your mouth.

You didn’t think you could. Your thighs burned but you kept at it, his own thrusts meeting yours, coaxing each other’s climaxes to break through the surface.

His pleasure meant so much to you, because it was real and raw. Before you got together, he always struck you as somebody controlled and methodical especially when he dealt with you. Now, he couldn’t hold back with you any longer because he wanted you beyond reason. Weeks without you and he was understandably undone.

You felt him throbbing within you. A ragged sound tore from his throat, signaling how close he was.

And, boy—was he close. His face flushed and his lips parted with gasping breaths. Sweat misted his brow. Your excitement mounted along with his. He was completely at your mercy, all logic and reason out the door, replaced with the visceral need to cum, uttering dirty, sexy things in your ear about what he was going to do to you the next time he fucked you.

You whimpered as everything tightened, the tension building up from the deep, rhythmic strokes. You were panting and frantic, pumping your hips. Reaching between your legs, he rubbed your clit with the pads of his fingers, hastening your climax.

He gasped, his head thrown back in pleasure, his neck straining. “I feel you getting ready to cum. You’re getting so fucking tight…”

His words and his voice pushed you over the edge. You gasped when the first couple of tremors hit you…then cried out loudly as the rest of your orgasm rippled through your body, your core spasming violently around Namjoon.

Teeth grinding audibly, he held on until your clenching began to fade. Afterwards, he clutched your hips and pumped upward into you.

“Fuck,” he cried out. His neck arched, his breath exploding from his lungs. 

He came just as aggressively and hard as you did. You felt the thick, hot spurts burst from him in a rush. He growled your name, his hips pumping upward, emptying himself into you. 

“This was not what I had in mind when I said we should stay in,” he managed to choke out before placing a quick kiss to your forehead. “Not that I’m complaining.”

You curled into him, beyond grateful to have him in your arms again. “Want to go to The Met tomorrow? I mean, you know–after I relearn how to walk?”

His laugh was husky from his orgasm. He held you for a while, his fingers sifting through your hair and gliding gently down your arm.

“Is that what you want?”

“Yes. I just want to be with you,” you said softly before you nuzzled your nose to his.

It was tough to find a balance. Long-distance was no joke but you worked through it in the most logical, practical way that only you and Namjoon could orchestrate. On scheduled breaks, you’d fly back to him, come visit your family or his. Other times, he would fly to your location.

Eventually, he did take that sabbatical. Six months into your travels, he filed his papers and took a six-month paid leave to be closer to you. It got slightly easier then–coming home to him after a long day.

Some days, he shadowed you during your meetings. Sabbaticals were also meant to be a time to learn new things–and he did. He had always wanted to see how Foundations and Philanthropic groups worked. He had a front-row seat through the whole process. It was a win for both of you.

Not to say that there weren’t difficult days. You still bickered and he still hates mint-chocolate ice cream. But sometimes, you just agree to disagree. Sometimes, you compromise–meet at a certain point. Sometimes, you would just completely miss each other. And that was okay. It was what made you stronger.

******

Epilogue

A year flew by quickly, and you were finally back in one place–feet firmly on the ground. Clothes hanging in an actual closet instead of a suitcase. Any other scheduled travel for you was spaced out by months or a proxy went in your stead if something more urgent was required of the Foundation.

You had that great support staff that Haejin promised you. Your trusted deputy was leading today’s contractor briefing while you took a backseat–silently observing, listening.

Your deputy was essentially a mini-you. Challenging the contractor’s findings and confirming each result.

“We ran these numbers several times and this is the real deal. Our lead programmers, Jung Hoseok and Kim Taehyung have been very diligent in monitoring the surveys. The data is solid,” Mirai says firmly.

You stifle a smile. She was still as sassy as ever.

“Right. The grantees are also incredibly satisfied with the service and the qualitative feedback has been very constructive and helpful. We’re going to have lots of good content for the quarterly report,” Jimin states.

“Great–that’s what we like to hear. And feedback is incredibly valuable to us, as you know. We want to know what we’re doing right and make that better. And on the other hand, we’d like to find out what our shortcomings are and fill that gap,” your deputy says.

“I think that answers most of our queries…unless I missed anything, YN?” Your deputy turns to you.

“Thanks, Lee. You just about covered it,” you smiled. Before Lee moves to adjourn the meeting, you sneak one more comment in. “However–I would like a brief word with the project lead. I have some feedback on his methods. Then we can reconvene for our meeting in my office later?”

Lee’s eyes flick over to the imposing male who sat quietly in the corner. “Sure thing. Thanks again for a great report, everyone. Looking forward to reading the first draft in a couple weeks.”

You stand from your seat as Jimin and Mirai pass you and you exchange brief hugs, promising to meet up for drinks this weekend.

As the room emptied out, Lee shuts the door, leaving you and the project lead alone.

“Surprised you didn’t have any objections to the data,” he begins while he watches you saunter across the room where he stood.

“How could I? I taught them well after all,” you smiled as you propped yourself up on the table.

“Need I remind you that I’ve been overseeing this team for months, too? Can’t take all of the credit.”

“I knew you’d say that,” you chuckled, your shoulders slouching in humor.

He took a couple of steps closer to you until he was closely slotted between your legs. “Was there anything else that you needed to discuss with me, Miss YN?”

His hand brushed your bare knee and slowly snakes up your inner thigh. You didn’t stop him. Instead, you looked up at him and held eye contact until he reached the edge.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” he rasped, discovering that you decided to forego panties this morning.

“Something to think about until tonight,” You grasped his wrist and gently withdrew his hand from under your skirt. You smiled devilishly before hopping off the table and kissing that dimple on his cheek. “Love you, Joon,” you giggled as you strutted away from him.

“So–you’re just going to leave me like this?” he asks while looking down at the sizable bump in his pants.

“I’ll tell Lee you need a few minutes to digest my feedback,” you called past your shoulder.

“Love you, too.” He says loudly. You blew a kiss at him before finally walking out the door.

He would definitely make you pay for that when you got home later.#

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Almost (non idol!au, married au) 💙 |1.4k words|

What is the saddest word in English? Almost. I was almost enough. I was almost victorious. I was almost yours. Or in which Namjoon and you can only be together from afar because you were almost his.

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[abloomingperiod]

you | kim namjoon

the streets of seoul never seemed so cool and grey. or maybe they did, but you didn't pay attention because your eyes were always glued to the tanned, radiant man that used to keep them busy.

used to. 3 weeks ago, you would've never thought of that. he wasn't that stupid, no. he wouldn't just pretend he was never there, every few days at times. he couldn't. right?

if only you could've faced it without 1 bottle of wine every three days and tears streaming down your face now and then - daily.

yes. yes, he could. and he did.

now that you realize, maybe, these streets were never radiant. maybe, it was just a sudden, fast ray of light that promised to warm whatever corner it could, even if just casually, but couldn't keep the promise.

as you enter your apartment complex and make your way to your doorway, you feel a thump in your heart that seems louder than the one your feet did to stop you in your tracks.

he is unbelievable.

there he was, standing in his glory, black sweatshirt with the cap on. he knew, by now, how much you liked this comfy look on him, which only made your blood boil even more.

"hey." was all that left his mouth, his gaze scanning you like he was remembering every inch of you his hands used to travel through.

and god, did he miss that.

"hi," you responded, keeping the same frozen posture. it's not like you wanted to move. or could. you felt as if you moved, your body would get out of the shock and simply crumble "what are you doing here?"

"can't i see you now?" that smug, shameless face of his, that used to make your stomach flutter like a high schooler, now making you wish you could tear it down with your own hands.

"are you fucking serious?" you said, your voice already raising a note. please, be cool, you beg yourself.

he seemed taken aback, and at the same time, not surprised. namjoon knew there wasn't chance for him to play dumb. there never was, at least with you.

he looked down, broad shoulders and smug expression falling, hands on his pocket, like a deer caught in the lights.

"i'm sorry"

"oh, you're sorry! thank you, that solves everything out" you retorted, "what the fuck do you need?"

"i wanna talk to you", he responds, looking up, scanning from your toes to your eyes and you swear you had to hold you breath for a second before his eyes met yours.

you scoff, "and you needed to disappear for 3 weeks to figure that out?" you kept staring at his eyes, burning holes in them. "3 weeks, namjoon."

"i know-"

"your friends wouldn't tell me where you were!" at this point, you're basically screaming, but you knew - or at least expected after 3 months seeing him - he wasn't the type to invalidate your emotions. especially in this particular fuck up of his. "why the fuck did you need to come here? just find another fuck and get lost again! you clearly have no problem with that just please, don't fucking pretend to befriend them for that."

"that's absolutely not what happened" he defends himself, his voice now raising a little. "i needed space..."

"fuck you" you hiss at him, your eyes red, fighting the urge to not let the tears you so thought had dried on their won roll down your cheeks, "i never did anything for this to be necessary. when exactly did i beg for you to stay for the weekend, huh? when did i repeated over and over for you that i loved-" your voice cracks at that word, and you catch his eyebrows fall a little, "spending time with you? or.. jesus, when did i let everything and went running to your house because you were sick? that wasn't me, was it"

he looks up, eyes wide and about to explain himself as he tries to approach you, but you take a step back. "don't you dare"

he sighs, but it doesn't seem like an angry sound. no, he seems troubled. defeated, even.

"i understand" he returns his eyes to the ground and bites his lower lip. "people were murmuring about it back at the agency... i know it sounds stupid, but i didn't want the risk of you waking up one day and a bunch of pictures being splattered all over the news"

you laugh bitterly at his explanation, not because you couldn't believe the scenario. that really could happen someday. but you were aware of that from day one, and he knew that. why the fuck did his friends couldn't say anything but "he's okay"?

you wipe your face, trying to calm yourself and keep the last drops of dignity you had within you, "you know... i didn't expect any sort of commitment from you. we both made that very clear from the start, and i kept my word. you changed that, when you decided to act like a fucking-" you don't let the word boyfriend come out. no, you were too proud to admit you were seeing him like that - even though, he caused it himself. "if you would be that much scared, why did you even start it all? do you really don't give one singular shit about anyone but yoursel-"

"i couldn't keep my hands off of you" he says, eyes still on the ground, and for the first time in this encounter, you said nothing back, not even a sound. "i couldn't stop thinking about you, even before all this. i also didn't wanna fuck up our friendship. then, when you called me for that glass of wine, and i got here and saw you in that robe...... i thought it would be a good idea, you know, friends that fuck now and then... i didn't wanna lose your friendship, but shit, y/n" he then looks up at your eyes and lips, his gaze repeating the path over and over again, "you," he seems as if he's trying to find the right words, but all he can continue with is, "you."

"so you did all this shit because you liked what you saw. what a fucking friend you are." now, no tears leave your eyes. just fire, pure hurt and anger. "do you do that a lot? sleep with your friends, make them fall for you every fucking hook up and then fuck off-"

"i can't be friends with you" he responds, and your instinct is to simply laugh nonchalantly at that, attempting to hide the hurt his confirmation brought.

"well, no shit now. i kinda figured that out by myself. are you that dense to not understand that you didn't have to come all the way-"

and then, his tone comes back to the normal, that serene and low one you're familiar with after waking up next to him a dozen times, "i'm in love with you."

if you thought your heart had dropped all the way down the street, you were wrong. now, it was no longer there. it was lost, leaving a hole in your chest.

"don't say that" you your eyes drowning again, your whole body feeling small and exposed at his words.

"i'm in love with you" he repeats, slowly walking closer to you, his arms already lifting to make their way to the crook of your elbows like he used to do to grab your attention.

"stop it" you say, noticing the space between you being closed second by second, but not moving an inch.

"i'm in love with you, y/n" he says one more time, and you feel his warm hands touching your arms, carefully caressing them like you were about to break at any point.

"you're a fucking coward for going this far" you still couldn't believe his words. "is it really that worth it? leaving me like a fucking one night stand and not your fucking friend, before anything? you already got what you wanted, multiple times. go your own way, please" your voice cried the last word, barely emitting any sound, and at that moment he understood it. you thought he was playing with you to get into your pants again, the thought making him feel offended by a second before reminiscing about his last actions.

"i'm not living until you listen to me" he says in a strong remark, a polar opposite of his hands in your arms like his life depended on it.

you keep staring at him, eyes sad and yet full of fury, the sight alone breaking his heart over and over whilst making him panic, and he takes your silence as a green light to talk.

"i'm not here to excuse myself out of what i did, and i know no matter what i say, i hurt you, my friend and..."- he seems to think for a second, staring at your arms and sadly contorting the corner of his mouth, and your heart couldn't be beating more rapidly now. "i'm sorry, and i'll always be for this, and if you don't want to be near me again, i understand, but please, please, don't think i'm saying anything but the truth for you. i can't spend any other day thinking about how and what to say to you, and believe me, i tried. but even when i tried to fucking stay away from you, you- god" he closed the distance between you bodies in a seemingly desperate motion, his eyes now red, "you were all over the place. your shampoo, your perfume, your clothes," he said as his hands traveled up your shoulders, then collarbones, coming back to your arms and repeating the path until it turned into a repeated caress. his voice cracking a bit "baby..." and at that, you start sobbing again.

your mind is a whirlwind. your stomach turns in and out of itself, and just now, as his head is hanging low from his neck, you notice a bouquet of roses hanging on your doorknob behind him.

the night was coming up. after all this time, you still can't process how time flies when you're with him.

you both stand there for what you're sure feels like more than a whole minute, and you feel his hands dropping, much like his head.

"i'm sorry" he murmurs, sniffling and reaching for the bouquet but before he can reach it, your hand grab his and you pull him for the most desperate, urgent kiss you ever had. even more than the ones before three glasses of wine, or the silly bickering you used to have with each other. like you feared he would slip away, like a dream when the morning comes.

his arms embraces your torso like you were something he never wanted to let go off his warmth, as if you were his to be. your hands go through his hair, cheeks, around his neck and anywhere else it could go, your body finally getting the specific embrace you oh so missed.

you part lips for a second, tears less prominent and definitely happier and your eyes stare at each other's mouth, already missing the softness, intensity and passion only your lips together could create.

you smile like two silly lovers, the two silly lovers you were finally showing out to be.

"please, don't leave again" you say, eyes finding his as your hands caress his puffy cheeks. "please".

"i swear," his hands now being the ones catching you cheeks "swear on my own life," he drops a kiss on your lips, "to do whatever i can to reinforce that every fucking day" his thumbs caressing you lovingly, like you were the only thing existing in the world "if you let me."

you smile at him, your breaths mixing together just like it used to, but in a much more intimate way than any hook-up you guys have ever had, "of course i do."

he kisses you in a much more slow, deep pace now. the soft taste of his that you were so immersed in entering your mouth and making your heart flutter over and over again. you both try, but can't stop smiling throughout your kiss, but that wasn't a problem. not for you.

"i love you" you confess to him, and seeing his satisfied sigh, your lips leave seconds-lasting pecks on his lips, as you keep repeating "i love you"s like a pray.

and like that, even with the night fully surrounding the city, every ounce of warmth seemed to have come back to you.

#kim namjoon #i'm legit writing this listening to dear john as if i couldn't suffer enough just by typing #kim namjoon drabble #namjoon kim #rm #rm imagine #kim namjoon imagine #bts namjoon #kim namjoon angst #can you tell he's my bias

[bangtanloverboys]

poppy seeds // knj

summary - there’s something buried in namjoon’s garden, he doesn’t know what else to do but maybe provide a bit of consolation

pairing - gardener!namjoon x ghost girl!reader

genre - angst, suspense; ghost au

word count - 1.4k

warnings - implied murder

author’s note - the first enstallment of my ghost au collection, i hope you guys enjoy

tagged - @jeontier​

the ghost of you masterlist

The Kim Family had been around for a long, long time. They were one of the town's more powerful and richest families, owning more than half the town and surrounding properties. Times changed and eventually, the land was bought out but the Kim Family still held a large amount of influence over the small town. While they may not have several vacation homes and mansions, having them all be traded in for high rise apartments and penthouses, The Crown Jewel of the Kim Family though, was their country estate. It had been in the family for generations, having been one of the first houses the Kim Family built when they first arrived in town, all those centuries ago. 

For the past few years now, it was under the care of the youngest descendant of the Kim Family, Namjoon. After the passing of his grandfather, who lived there for several decades, he was sure most of his family was going to take a grab at it. To his surprise, he was the only one to ask about it, no one wanted the country estate. When he asked his family members about the reasoning, he was baffled by their responses. 

Ghosts. 

All his life, he’d heard of the ghosts that roamed the property. A woman in white who was scorned by one of their ancestors, who was seeking revenge upon any Kim family members who dared to disturb her. Namjoon rolled his eyes at the prospect, he knew those were only local legends and rumors. There was no basis of reality in them.

So Namjoon made a home for himself in the country estate. Most people would’ve felt lonely in such a large house all by themselves, but not Namjoon. He never felt more at peace. Often he’d spend his days outside, because right at the edge of the property was Namjoon’s most prized possession of all, the garden. He would be out there for days on end, planting flowers and pruning his vegetable plants. But there was one corner of the garden that refused to grow. 

A few feet from the large garden was an old knotted oak tree, it’s been there for centuries long before Namjoon was even born. Ever since he moved in, he tried planting hyacinths, hydrangeas, and jasmine at the base of the oak tree. But they always died before spring could come around. 

Every year he would try and try again: with new plants, new soil, new different types of techniques but time and time again, the flowers always died. Namjoon refused to give up hope, continuing to beautify the whole of his garden. 

This year Namjoon was determined to finally plant flowers around the trunk of the old oak. Today was the perfect day to do it, the sun shining brightly in the sky with not a cloud to accompany it. Wanting to get the planting done, Namjoon gathered up seeds of forget-me-nots, daisies, and snapdragons; ready to sow them into the earth. 

As he was on his knees, hand trowel in hand as he dug around in the dirt, planting the various seeds when he first noticed something out of the corner of his eye. It was only for a split second, but it was clear as day. Barely a few feet behind him, was a woman dressed head to toe in white, staring right at him. Namjoon didn’t catch many details, because as soon as he blinked, the woman was gone. Leaving him with a slight chill in his bones.

At first he didn’t want to think anything of it, a trick of the light or perhaps his imagination was running wild. But he could still feel the ice cold stare of the woman, burning into the back of his skull. Not wanting to stick around any further, he picked up his tools and supplies, tossing them into the wheelbarrow and making his way back up towards the house. 

He went about the rest of his day with no problem. He made himself dinner, ate it quietly by himself in the kitchen, then read a book before bed. Normally at this time of day, Namjoon would feel relaxed and exhausted after working all day in the sun. However, after what happened earlier, he can’t drop the feeling of something being wrong. Constantly he found himself glancing over his shoulder, trying to see if what he saw followed him in. But everytime, no one was there. 

Eventually, the need for sleep caught up with him and he laid down in bed, ready to forget the entire day ever happened. Only the moment Namjoon’s head hit the pillow, his entire body suddenly felt very alert. He kept tossing and turning, trying to find a comfortable position to let his body fall asleep, yet nothing worked. 

Then the chill set in. While the thermostat would read that the room was at its normal temperature, it felt like the entire room was covered in ice. Struggling to keep warm, Namjoon wrapped himself in his blankets. Only then he was able to find some sleep, but it was far from peaceful.

In his dreams, he saw flashes of his relatives shouting at each other, the old oak tree, and then you. A petite young thing, all smiles and laughter, but you were the most beautiful woman he ever saw. Never in Namjoon’s life had he seen you before, he’d been through the family portraits time and time again. He’s sure he would’ve remembered a face like yours. Echoes of your laughter rang in his ears as he watched you run around him, like you were playing some sort of game with him. Namjoon tried to move, but his body was frozen, rooted to the ground he stood on. 

From behind him, he watched a more familiar face run past him. It was one of his relatives, he couldn’t quite recall the name of him, but often Namjoon had heard how similar he looked to him. It wasn’t until then did he finally see it. His eyes never left the two of you as you ran about the field in front of him, before stopping right before the oak tree. As soon as your hand grazed against the bark, the scene changed. 

It was the same field from moments before, but this time it was night. Rain was pouring down in buckets, blurring Namjoon’s vision. Just barely he was able to make out a shadowy figure beneath the oak tree, fumbling with a shovel. A clash of lightning lit up the sky for a brief moment and it was all Namjoon needed to fully understand what he was watching. Shoveling dirt into a hole, was his look alike ancestor as he stood above a dirty white mess of fabric.

His eyes flew open as he woke up, the sheets were soaked in sweat. Namjoon’s mind was reeling, trying to process the dream, unsure if it was real or something his mind had fabricated. Whatever it was, it left him feeling cold.

Later that day, Namjoon made his way back over to the oak tree, gardening supplies in hand. Any normal person wouldn’t have returned to the tree, continuing to garden, but he couldn’t. He had to do something. Namjoon dug out the seeds he had sown there the day prior, instead finding a different flower he wanted to plant. It was meticulous and hard, but eventually he found them all, replacing them with the small round seeds. 

As he tended to the small plots of earth, Namjoon felt the very same chill he felt the day before. Not moving to look in the direction, he continued to garden, being extra careful around the roots of the tree. “I’m sorry,” he mumbled softly as he planted the last seeds into the ground. 

With each day, he did the same. He tended to the flowers, watering them as he apologized over and over again, always feeling that icy stare that left him shivering. But as the days grew to weeks, small saplings grew from the earth and the ice that surrounded him melted away. Namjoon let out a sigh of relief as he watched the flowers slowly begin to bloom. 

A full ring of poppies bloomed around the old oak tree, now the gem of his garden. He wasn’t sure if you would like them, but he’s sure that you knew what they meant. At the end of each day when he was done gardening, all his tools and pickings for the day stacked up in his little wheelbarrow, he made his way back up to his home. Each time out of the corner of his eye, he saw you sitting at the base of the tree. Your legs tucked in tight to your chest as you smiled down at the flowers.

#btsghostie #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon x reader #namjoon angst #bts ghost au #kim namjoon angst

[free-imaginations-for-you]

TOO LOW KEY FOR ME

Part 1

Kim Taehyung x female reader

Being in a relationship should be a fun and exciting time. Spending time with your significant other trying to get to know them to a point where it‘s easy to communicate and be open about your feelings without being afraid of the outcome. It gets even harder when you're in a relationship you can't name. Are we together or not. When we‘re alone we act like most couples spending every possible second together, trying to get to know each other and enjoying each others presence. But when we‘re in public we‘re distant and estranged. The fact that the guy I‘m talking about is one of the most handsome and mysterious man in town makes it even more difficult . He owns a bar to be specific the most visited and famous one in seoul.

I first met him as a costumer. My sister, cousin and I decided to go out for some drinks, after a tiring and busy workweek. The famous "Purple Bar" was the perfect place to end the stressful and nerve-wracking working day. The bar was huge and full with people having fun enjoying themselves living without a worry even when it‘s just temporary. Suddenly I noticed a handsome man behind the barrier with the most beautiful face, brown eyes that looked like they lived thousands of lifes, cheerful and sad at the same time, beautiful lips making me wonder how breathtaking they would look formed into a smile, thick black hair to round of it’s perfection. He was wearing just a simple black shirt with jeans and I never knew that simplicity could fit a man this good. I just couldn‘t take my eyes of this mysterious man with an aura that could captivate everyone, even in a room with thousand of models and celebrities. In my 23 years of living in this world I couldn’t figure out how the man of my dreams looked like, but it changed the second I laid my eyes on him. Little did I know that I also had all his attention the moment I entered the bar. I was just his type, you fascinated him and he was positive that he wanted to know you better. Normally he’s not the person to show interest when he finds someone attractive it‘s against his personal rules. Tae was cold, not talkative, secretive and even a little bit shy, never letting anybody know what he thought or felt, but with you it was something else. For the first time in a long time he wanted to show someone something of himself, even if it was just glance. All he wanted in this moment was you to know that you had his all his attention.

He caught me checking him out and looked me straight in the eyes not even thinking about breaking the eye contact. It nearly took my breath away, I felt a wave of emotions I never even knew I had inside of me. This is why I felt goosebumps all over my body, his glance felt warm yet cold, fimilar yet unknown, thrilling yet hesitant, interested yet indifferent. I just couldn‘t keep my finger on it what I felt the moment his eyes met mine. Tae wasn’t even thinking about breaking eye contact, but you couldn’t keep up with the emotions and turned your face away leaving him slightly sad. It felt strange thinking that this man I felt attracted to the second I saw, could be possibly interested in me, eventough there are so many beautiful breathtaking girls in here.

Normally Taehyung hated being a waiter and taking orders, but he wanted to be close to you and start a conversation with you, even when it comes to ordering drinks. He mostly lets his employees wait tables, that's why all his colleagues gave him funny looks when he took all his courage to approach your table. Actually it was easier to take the order between the two girls, but he made a detour to be between you and your sister, to be closer to you. „Hello girls, do you know what you like to order or do you still need some time?“ He asked in a honeyed rapsy voice giving me thousands of butterflies. Surprisingly his voice was full of self-confidence but I couldn't hear a hint of arrogance. He did his best not to look at you for too long, but he couldn't resist a fleeting glance in your direction.

I tried my best not to look, the emotions I felt were so strong it felt like my feelings of attraction and nervousness were written all over my face. It felt like he could see right through my soul with just one look. The thing I hate most is feeling vulnerable, so I gave my best to make it look like it‘s nothing. „Hey, we would like to order two Cosmopolitan and one Mojito please.“ my cousin said. „Sure two Cosmopolitan and one Mojito.“ he said taking the order and leaving to go to the barrier. Gosh I never knew that I was holding my breath for so long, I could hear my heartbeat so loud and clear, like it was about to explode. „Y/N get yourself together you don‘t even know him.“ I thought to myself wondering what my body is trying to tell me with this reaction of just being close to him.

„Did you saw this handsome waiter checking out our Y/Nie. On the way to the barrier he turned around at least twice and you said that you‘re too tired to go out, you should listen to me more often.“ my little sister said taking a sip of her Mojito while she funny wrinkled her eyebrows hitting me lightly with her elbow. „He’s totally not checking me out, I mean why would he? Could you stop looking, gosh that‘s so embarrassing.“ I begged and laughed because of her vibrant energy that lifts my mood everytime. „Yes, sure I’m going to stop looking, when he stops checking you out, but I don’t think that this is going to happen anytime soon. So I’m really sorry but nope it’s not going to happen.“ she said while quickly sticking her tongue out. „Gosh my little sister is going to be the cause of my death one day, mark my words.“ I said while lightly hitting her leg. I looked his way and I caught him lookin at me slightly smiling. Again the moment our eyes met felt like a fresh needed breeze in this hot and dry summer night.

Between all the chatting and having fun with my girls i found out that he was the owner of the „Purple Bar“. I was fascinated by him and his ability to make it all look so easy, although this success must have involved blood, sweat, nerves and endless sleepless nights in such a young age to get here were he was today. Maybe that's the reason why his eyes radiate wisdom and calmness.

It didn't take long before the "Purple Bar" became our regular place, where we went almost every weekend. The atomosphere and the way this place made you forget about any worry in this world, were a reason why you just felt welcome and comfortable. The fact that I could see Taehyung was a bonus I just couldn‘t resist. Since the night we first met, he made sure that we would see each other again the next day or next week. „This night is on me, next time you can invite me for a beer.“ He said when we asked for the bill, giving me an assuring look. „No, we don‘t feel comfortable to leave without paying we had many drinks and that‘s not fair.“ I said for the first time looking in his beautiful eyes. That was the first time he heard your voice and he was enchanted. Your voice was fragile but also sweet and confident at the same time. „Then don‘t leave.“ Tae said surprised with himself, that he spoke his thoughts loud enough for me to hear. „What did you say, I couldn‘t unterstand it.“ I answered thinking that I just misheard something. „Oh nothing.“ he said clearly embarrassed. „Damn what the hell is wrong with me. Gosh I don‘t even know her and I‘m making a fool out of myself.“ he thought that he is loosing his mind, with her this close. „You and your girls had a good time. That‘s most important for me, no money in the world can replace that. So please do me a favor and leave it like this.“ He said looking directly in my eyes with a strong voice not really leaving room for discussion. „We really had a good time, thank you for everything. I think we‘re going to take your offer and invite you for a beer the next time.“ my sister said smiling lightly. Every time we were there, he made us a place next to the barrier to keep an eye on us, so that no one could spoil our mood and we felt comfortable. He always took our order and at some point his employees knew that they shouldn't serve our table. It was his opportunity to interact with you and he wouldn‘t let that chance go to waste. Tae is a very kind, fair and chilled boss, but his employees knew he had some weak points. If they respect them, nothing can go wrong with him. The employees quickly realized he had a soft spot for you and that they shouldn’t mess with the guy who pays their rent. The way his mood always got better even if everything went wrong all day, he felt his mood lift up the moment he sees your beautiful face at the „Purple Bar“. He had a clue that his colleagues were showing their best side infront of you and he couldn‘t be happier.

Soon he asked me for my telephone number and I gladly gave it to him feeling on cloud nine. It was really hard at first to match our schedules, because at daytime I was working. His working hours began at 8 p.m. that‘s the time when the bar was filled. For a matter of fact he was working 24/7 and being self-employed wasn’t easy, he made the preparations for opening because he trusted no one as much as himself, so we had even less time to ourselves. At first I didn't care, I just wanted to be with him as much as I could and get to know him better. When we were alone it was almost perfect, but I still felt nervous around him. How couldn’t i feel this way, when everything I ever wanted in a man was flesh and blood in front of me. Taehyung was always attentive and knew exactly when to say what. Somehow he had the gift of reading me like an open book and being able to read my every wish from my eyes. The calmness and serenity he brought with him, was exactly what i had missed in my life all these years. I am a very spirited and hot-blooded person, but with him I found the inner peace that I never knew that I need. When I boiled-up with all my worries and built up emotions, his assuring words were like a chill that could calm me down. Whenever I was restless, his arms were the only place I found myself again. Nonetheless he was always a really cold and withdrawn person, he built his walls so high, it felt impossible for me to even take a glance, to know what kind of person he is, what he felt inside his mind and heart. Whenever I was in the bar, he kind of made me feel like we didn't belong together, like we weren't as far along as i thought we were. I felt disappointed, insecure and not worthy of being in a relationship with him. In public Taehyung wasn’t the man i was so fond of. Yes, every now and then he made sure that everything is alright and that I felt comfortable. He never officially asked me out, we never really never talked about it and I never brought this topic up. Sometimes he gave me glances to make sure everything was alright between us. Just to make sure that I know that he only has eyes for me. The eye contact we shared were so captivating and magical, making me forget everything around me and even the fact that he hurt me deeply with that kind of behavior. He‘s eyes told me more than thousands words.

Here we are now six months later, me being trapped in the same wheel for months with no way out in sight. The last couple of weeks my doubts and insecurities about this relationship grew so strong, that I‘m not able to ignore them anymore. I‘m overthinking every decision, conversation and moment I spent with him. Actually I‘m not really sure for how long I‘m going to keep up with this ups and downs, with his closeness just to feel empty and drained out the next day. Hell, I really like him, but i don’t think that I like him that much to put my wellbeing in the second place. In order to be in a healthy and happy relationship, you need to be in tune with your self. This so called relationship is too low key for me and I can‘t cope with this situation. I feel like I‘m not good enough for him, not worthy, not beautiful or smart enough to be introduce as his girlfriend. It‘s unbelievable how a man could break down my self-esteem with his cold behavior. I‘m so mad at myself how I gave him the power, to make me feel this way. Simply this whole thing isn‘t for me, I‘m not the person who can switch from warm compassionate, to a coldhearted human within seconds. Honestly, I don‘t even want to be like this and I‘m not going to change for worse for him.

At this point I was really pissed and disappointed, how I could bring myself in this kind of situation. The fact that Taehyung is taking really long to take a simple order of four breathtaking girls isn‘t making this situation easier for me. „Ohh our Mr. Always Grumpy who doesn‘t like to wait tables, can be a social butterfly, a new side of him I never saw coming“ I thought utterly pissed when I saw him giving them a small smile. „Woow, so the show just started, he‘s even leaning to the blonde curly hair girl, showing what‘s on the menu, is she really blind and not able to read or are they unconditionally trying to irritate the hell out of me.“ I thought while crossing my arms. They totally were checking him out and whispering, when he left the table with the orders. Is he stupid or totally delusional, not seeing the way the blonde girl was clearly trying to flirt with him, by asking him unnecessary questions, just to draw his attention. Maybe this is one of the reasons, why he doesn‘t want to make it official, to be available for other girls. He‘s attractive, young and rich, maybe the last thing he needs right now is a girlfriend. Normally I‘m not jealous, but the bad thoughts that I collected for weeks mixed with this blonde girl, are a deadly combination. God knows how hard I‘m trying to keep my cool and not explode at the moment. He looked at me as he made his way to the table with the tray of cocktails in hand. Immediately he noticed something was wrong with me as i rolled my eyes and looked away with my arms crossed. After he put the drinks down on the table, he made his way towards me with a slighly confused look. „Why are you looking at me like that? Don‘t look at me so angry.“ He says half joking. „How about you don‘t do things, that make me want to glare at you?“ I say with a strong and clearly mad voice, he never heard me talk to him like this, he never saw this side of you. Right before he was about to ask what you meant by that, he was interrupted by one of his employees, because he needed his help. He left feeling utterly confused and actually impressed. Honestly Taehyung isn‘t the type to talk much, that’s the reason he listens attentively. Being conscious of every gesture and facial expression you made. You are an open book for him, but at the same time he can‘t figure you out. Sometimes it‘s really difficult but he wouldn‘t want to change it for the world.

„I should go now, I’m not feeling very well and the last thing I want to do is spoil your mood.“ I said to my girls and waved them goodbye. I put on my warm beige fur coat and got into the the cold and windy air.

Not even two minute passed and he came out looking confused and the pissed of look couldn‘t go unnoticed by me. „First of all what the fuck do you think you are doing right now, leaving without saying a word and secondly, do you really think I let you go home alone at this time?“ he said with a stern voice.

Part 2 is out!

#bts #bangtan #bangta boys #bts imagines #bts preferences #bts angst #kim taehyung imagine #kim taehyung #kim taehyung angst #jeon jungkook imagine #jeon jungkook #jeon jungkook angst #jk bts #v bts #park jimin imagine #park jimim #park jimin angst #kim namjoon imagine #kim namjoon #kim namjoon angst #rm bts #min yoongi imagine #min yoongi #min yoongi angst #suga #suga bts #kim seokjin imagine #kim seokjin #kim seokjin angst #jung hoseok