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oddinary4bts · 5 months

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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

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margotw10bis · 2 months

Text

Pretty Baby.KNJ [m]

sugardaddy!namjoon x sugarbaby!reader

Genre: smut; short-story

Words: 6.4k

Synopsis: Namjoon is your sugar daddy. However, you can't deny how your heart is jumping in your chest when he calls you his "pretty baby"…

Warnings: rough sex; unprotected sex; spanking; squirting; oral sex (m. receiving); gagging; Namjoon is huge 😳; he loves ass; use of "daddy"

1 → 2 → 3 (Bonus : Memories ; Doubts & Possibilities)

Namjoon immediately freezes when he hears your and a man's voices coming from your bedroom. What the fuck is going on? Why are you with a man in your room this late? Anger boiling in his veins, Namjoon runs to your bedroom door and pushes it open. You, Jimin and Namjoon all stop breathing. You are indeed very surprised to see him right now. You hate that your heart beats faster for him, you would like to hate him, just a little bit, for not contacting you like he said he would.

Namjoon, on the other hand, is seeing red. Your 'friend' is on top of you, hugging you, on your fucking bed. Is he interrupting the begging of a roll in the hay? Fuck, he wants to kill Jimin for touching you.

Completely unaware of Namjoon's anger, you smile brightly.

"Joonie!" You exclaim cheerfully

Jimin is pretty aware of what's going on and tries to stand up quickly. The wrath in Namjoon's eyes scares him to death. He gulps loudly while you clumsily walk to Namjoon. You almost strip and Namjoon has to catch you before you hit the floor, causing his heart to stop out of fear. You look like you are not even aware of you almost falling and you hug his big frame with your tiny arms.

"I missed you so much"

Namjoon can feel the alcohol in your breathe and with the way you are talking, the words coming from your lips with slothfulness. Did Jimin make you drink to fuck you? His eyes narrow on your friend.

"What's going on?" He asks, coldly

"We went to party" You answer with a lazy smile

Namjoon's jaws clench, looking straight at Jimin. Namjoon holds you tighter and you snuggle your face further in his buff chest. You missed his scent. You close your eyes to appreciate it more.

"And what were you doing exactly?" The question is addressed to Jimin but before he can even open his mouth, you reply

"Hugging"

Okay, Jimin is officially a dead man walking.

"Is that so?" Namjoon's question doesn't really need answer this time

He wants to kill Jimin and then fuck you hard to punish you for letting another man touch you. He grabs your chin to make you look up at his face. Your pretty eyes are red because of the alcohol and your cheeks are blushed. He is angry. Very angry. He growls before reaching down to harshly capture your lips with his mouth. He tastes the liquor on your tongue and he squeezes your ass. Your brain is doing spins, both because of alcohol and the perfect kiss. Namjoon bites your lower lip so hard that you whine. Yeah, he will definitely punish you but not tonight when you're drunk as fuck.

He pulls away and looks back at Jimin.

"Get the fuck out of here" He orders him with the harshest tone possible

Your best friend doesn't waste any time and basically runs away. Once Namjoon hears the main door closing, he lifts you up in his arms and drags you in your bathroom. He doesn't talk, too angry not to snap at you if he opens his mouth. He undresses you and makes you sit down in the large bathtub that could easily fit you both, even with Namjoon's big body. He makes sure the water is at the right temperature, rolls up his sleeves to his elbows and starts washing your face to take off your makeup. You sigh in delight of his hands on you. You close your eyes, almost falling asleep surrounded by warm water and warm palms.

"You did drink a lot" Namjoon notices

You nod, slowly opening your eyes.

"I thought you got sick of me" You confess

Namjoon's hands stop. He looks at your face. He doesn't see any reproach but pain. He doesn't like it. He didn't have time to call you. Directly at the airport when he stepped out of the plane, Taehyung informed him that some business partner wanted to cancel a contract. He has spent the next couple of days at the office with his legal team to prevent that from happening. Even if he was busy, he now regrets not sending you a text to notify you.

"Never, baby" He comforts you with a kiss on your forehead

It's enough for you to believe him. Namjoon has always been honest with you, since the very first day. He told you he didn't want a girlfriend/boyfriend relationship but a sugar baby/daddy one. He even told you there were other girls. And you accepted it if that meant you could have even a little bit of him.

Namjoon finishes washing you, soapy hands creating bubbles all over your body. You moan lightly when he runs through your boobs, your pussy and your ass. You wish you could enjoy it more but you are now way too tired and drunk for that.

"Come on, let's get you to bed" He says while he's wrapping you in a soft towel

He makes sure you're dry and pulls you in bed, naked. He brushes off some hair that landed on your face. Before he can walk away, you grab his big hand in your delicate one.

"Stay, please"

Your voice almost begs. You just got him back, you're afraid he will disappear again. He nods before taking off his cloths to be as naked as you. He slides between the sheets and you glue yourself to his side. He lazily puts his arm around your shoulders. You kiss his firm chest a last time before falling asleep.

————

Your head hurts like hell. You make a promise to yourself— the same one you make every time you wake up hangover: you won't drink ever again. You growl and press your hands on your eyes to protect them from the sun coming through the window.

"Wake up" Namjoon orders you with a cold voice

Your eyes snap open and land on his naked body. Fuck, you messed up big time last night. Flash memories come to your mind and you know that Namjoon won't let it go. You gulp.

"On all fours. Now"

You do it quickly. You apprehend what will follow but you can't deny your exposed pussy is getting wet.

"You were a very bad girl yesterday. Do you know what happens to bad girls?"

You can't see his face but you can clearly hear how angry he is.

"They get punished" You answer with a dry throat

"Exactly"

Namjoon slaps your ass so hard that you jolt. A loud moan escapes your lips. Fuck, it was harsh. But Namjoon doesn't stop and spanks your other asscheek, harder. It's bringing tears to your eyes and a red mark to your skin. Your fists tighten on the sheets.

"I'm sorry" You whisper with closed eyes, waiting for the next slap

And it comes, hard on your first asscheek.

"Louder" Namjoon orders

"I'm sorry, daddy!" You scream, unable to withhold a sob

"I'm not done with you"

Namjoon pushes your face into your pillow without any softness. Your pussy is now clearly exposed to his sight and he notices some arousal escaping from it. He slaps your pussy, making you scream into the fabric of the pillow. He starts sliding up and down your folds with his middle finger to paint your pussy with your own juices, making it gorgeously glistening. He doesn't prep you and enters you with all of his hard cock with a harsh move. The sudden stretch cuts your breathe. Tears fill your eyes.

"Promise you won't let any man touch you like Jimin has done yesterday" Namjoon commands as he starts pounding you

He is fucking you so hard and deep that you can't stay on your knees. Each pumping drags you further to the mattress. Muttered moans leave your mouth as you can't think straight. Namjoon has never fucked you this rough.

"I promise" You manage to say in the pillow

"I can't hear you" He teases you as he slaps your already red and abused ass

You whine at the spanking, grabbing the sheets tightly. You are now lying flat on your stomach on the bed, making your pussy even tighter. Namjoon growls as he is fucking you deep, tugging on your hair to lift your head up.

"I promise, daddy!"

He gives another slap on your asscheek, less harsh, as a reward. Your pussy clenches at it. The room is filled with the sinful sound of your skins clapping. Your ass gets smacked by Namjoon's pelvis every single time. He loves the way your cheeks wiggle under his rough moves.

"Who do you belong to?" He asks between hard poundings

"You, daddy!"

"That's my girl" He praises, giving you a last dick stroke before pulling out

The sudden emptiness is a torture for your dripping cunt. But it doesn't last long as Namjoon throws you into your back. He spreads your legs to see how wet your pretty pussy is. He is satisfied to witness the fledging mess. He shoves his huge cock back into your pussy, making your boobs bounce in rhythm. He harshly grabs one of your nipples and pinches it.

"Fuck" You moan

Namjoon leaves your nipples to wrap his big palm around your neck, squeezing slightly. Your clenching pussy makes him know you love it. He smirks at you being so fucked up underneath his body. He looks at his big cock disappearing into your tight, dripping cunt.

"My pretty pussy" He growls before laying down on you

You can feel his heavy breathe in your ear and you're close. So fucking close. Your walls tighten around his cock. Namjoon fucks you so good, tearing you in half. Your hands settle in his now sticky hair.

"Cum" He orders you with his deep and raspy voice

Fuck.

You're so done. His rough poundings, his hand on your throat and his dominance drive you crazy. Your orgasm washes over your whole body and you scream his name. Your toes curl and your legs shake by the wave of pleasure. Namjoon doesn't slow his pace, even if your pussy becomes impossibly tight and you whine at the overstimulation.

"Good girl" Namjoon praises in your ear

He lifts up his torso and leaves your throat too in order to bring his fingers to your mouth. You immediately open it and he slides his digits between your lips. You suck on his fingers and even bites them when Namjoon delivers you a too harsh pounding. Once he is satisfied, he brings his hand down and starts rubbing your clit.

"Fuck!" You choke

You're a complete mess. Your juices are rolling down to your ass and sheets. Your breasts are bouncing so much for Namjoon's sweet delight and your pussy is shaking. You can feel another orgasm, way bigger than the first one.

"I gonna make you cum so good that you won't ever want another cock"

That's a promise you can easily trust. No one has ever fucked you so hard, so rough and so good. Namjoon is, in fact, the only man you want. You wish the three little words you want to say could ease him but you know damn well they will do the opposite.

Namjoon presses on your clit deeper, pushing it like a cum button. Your cunt clenches once again and your eyes shut down. You feel his cock deep inside you, fucking hitting on your g-spot over and over again.

"Oh my god, Namjoon!" You scream as you are cumming again, the biggest orgasm you have ever had

It's like you're not even on Earth anymore and white dots paint your vision.

"Fuckkk"

Your tight pussy is driving him to his own edge and Namjoon releases himself inside you. He is panting but admires the mess between your legs.

"You squirted, baby"

"What?"

Your eyes open and look at a very proud Namjoon. You grow embarrassed as you notice the way Namjoon's abs are covered by your arousal. You've never squirted before. You are blushing hard but Namjoon loves it. He leans down and kisses you while his thumbs are caressing your burning cheeks.

"My pretty baby" He whispers against your lips and you feel your heart melt

Fuck, you love him so much. You grab his hair to pull him closer. His softening cock is still inside you and you wrap your legs around his waist. You smile when you feel Namjoon's arms around your small body. He hugs you tight, just like your were the most precious thing in his life.

————

"What?" Lisa asks, dumbfounded

"Let's end the contract" Namjoon repeats with a neutral voice

He has found himself putting an end to most of his contracts with his sugar babies lately. That can be explained by several reasons. The first one is that he has less time with his company expending. Secondly, Namjoon will be turning 36 next week and he is getting tired of his fuckboy life. He is thinking about settle down for good. His parents keep showing their worry about him not being married at his age and, even though he is not ready to get married, maybe he should try to build a real strong relationship with someone. And the main reason is you. Honestly, he is quite surprised himself to think this much about you when you're not around. If he has to keep one sugar baby, it would be you.

However, it's not that simple because Lisa is kind of a stubborn woman. She has a big ego and being shut down is not something she is ready to let happen.

"Why?" She questions with a hateful glance

"Because I don't have time anymore" Namjoon gives her a part of the truth

At that, Lisa can't say she is surprised. She did notice that Namjoon was spending way less time with her. She didn't really care since she still had the money. However, she is suspicious. She knows Namjoon goddamn well — she has been his sugar baby for a year now — and he can't live without sex. That means he is keeping at least one girl. Knowing she isn't the one hurts her pride.

"So? What will happen? You're turning into a monk?" She mocks

Namjoon ignores it and promises she will receive a good amount of money for the termination of the contract. He leaves her place — the place he bought but decided to give to her. He sighs in his car and his phone rings. It's a message from you. Namjoon clicks on the notification and he bites his lip when he witnesses a picture. A very naughty one. You're wearing lingerie, a beautiful set of hot pink lacy bra and panties. It fits your perfect body so well. He can't wait to see your ass with it, especially with the caption you have chosen: 'waiting for daddy'. He drives straight to your place. How can he make his pretty baby wait?

You are humming a random song while cooking your diner. Namjoon hasn't answer your text yet but you're not surprised: he rarely shows off before eleven pm. You still has your lingerie on but you have put a fluffy set of lounge clothes upon it. You can smell your lasagna developing all its savours and your mouth waters while anticipating the moment you'll finally be able to eat it.

You hear your door opens and you startle a little. You freeze, waiting for another noise.

"Baby?"

You sigh in relief as you recognize Namjoon's voice. You are also so happy of his surprise, you didn't expect him to come this quick. You run to meet him and hug him tight. Namjoon wraps his arms around your waist, digging his nose in the crook of your neck. You feel his lips softly brushing against your skin.

"That smells so good, did you cook?" He asks you with his cute dimple smile that illuminates his whole handsome face

"Yep, lasagna. It'll be ready soon, do you want some?"

He nods and grabs your hand to lead you to your open and huge kitchen. Namjoon gets closer to the oven to watch the pasta getting grilled. He didn't know you were such a cooker. Actually, he doesn't know much about you except what is going on in the bedroom. However, he gets excited at the idea of discovering more about your personality — he already knows your whole body like the back of his hand.

You turn off the oven and display the dish on the dinner table while Namjoon grabs a fancy bottle of wine he has brought a few weeks ago. You are so happy, but also surprised, about how curious he is tonight. He asks questions about your day but also about random things such as your hobbies, your childhood memories or your plans for this weekend. He never talks much, mostly because he is usually too busy fucking you. But you like it.

"Go get a shower, I'll do the dishes" You say when your stomachs are full

"I can help" Namjoon frowns

"It's okay" You reassure him, already taking the plates "I know you had a long day" You peck his lips "And I want you fully operative for later" You add with a wink

He chuckles and heads to your bathroom while you do as you said.

Namjoon is still in the shower when you enter your bedroom. You are thinking about joining him but before you can actually do it, the water turns off and a hot Namjoon appears. His naked body, only covered by a towel tied low on his hips, makes your pussy clench. You love how brawny he is — a real pleasure for the eyes. His biceps, his chest, his fucking abs. Everything is tempting. Honestly, he looks like a Greek God.

You can't hold yourself longer and push him onto your bed. You open the towel to face his cock. Even when it's soft, it still big. You start caressing it and it immediately gets harder. And you get wetter at the same time.

"You're needy tonight, baby" He smirks

Deep down, it fills his pride that you want him like that. It's rare when you initiate things in bed. Namjoon loves to be in control, however, he will let you take the lead for now — not for too long though.

"I've been thinking about you all day, I can't wait anymore" You explain, sincerely

You fully grab his dick in your hand and slide up and down. You feel his length getting thicker and heavier on your palm and fuck, your pussy is starting to soak your new panties. Once Namjoon is almost completely hard, you kiss his tip gently. Some pre cum lands on your lips. The salty liquid urges you to put him in you mouth already. And you do.

Namjoon moans when his cock is surrounded by the wetness, warmth and softness of your mouth. You suck on his length at a pretty fast pace, your tongue rolling around it. You can feel him growing bigger between your lips and you moan at it. He is fulling your mouth and you love the feeling of it.

However, it's not enough for Namjoon so he grabs your hair and pushes his dick deeper in your mouth, making you gag. The sinfulness of the gesture creates a wave of horniness inside your cunt.

Namjoon starts fucking your mouth and sloppy sounds from your mouth full of saliva and cock fill your room. He tastes so good on your tongue, you are literally drooling. Some oral fluid runs down his balls and your chin, creating a fucking mess. You love how Namjoon uses you to please him.

"I love your pretty mouth, baby" He growls as he enters you deeply and rests a little, preventing oxygen from filling your lungs

You tap his tights when you need to breathe again and you take a big cup of air when you are finally free. Your eyes are watery and your lips are swollen, that means it's perfect in Namjoon's point of view.

You go down again to bring his cock back inside your mouth . Some saliva covers Namjoon's fat dick and it gets so easy for him to fuck your throat. Once again, he pushes your gag reflex but it's fucking hot.

"Fuck" He moans when your hand starts caressing his balls

He has to pull out of your sweet mouth not to cum.

He uses your hair to bring your face close to his so he can kiss you harshly. His other hand finds your ass.

"Let me see what's underneath" He says as he tugs on your fluffy pants

You get rid off your lounge clothes to allow Namjoon to finally see your new set of lingerie. The hot pink bra and panties compliment you. It's both so fucking cute and hot. Like a sweet candy he can't wait to taste. Namjoon bites his lip and his intense dragon eyes make you blush.

"You like it?" You shyly ask

"I love it. You are so fucking pretty"

Your heart warms and you bend over to kiss him. It's true that Namjoon makes you feel sexy and confident. When he looks at you, you feel like the most beautiful woman on Earth.

Namjoon slides a hand underneath your small panties and rubs your clit. You moan against his lips and he takes it as the chance to push his tongue into your mouth. His digits don't hold back and are rolling on your clit both quickly and roughly.

"Stop, I gonna cum" You wince

"I don't see what's bad"

"I want to cum on your cock"

Namjoon looks straight into your eyes and, just for a second, an emotion you can't quite describe run through them. It shakes your whole inside.

Namjoon nods and gives some rest to your sensitive bud. However, he pushes your lacy panties aside to make your entrance accessible.

"Sit on daddy's cock" He orders but you notice that his voice is softer than usual

Anyway, you place your knees on both Namjoon's sides and grab his dick at its base to sit on it. You groan when you're full of him. His length is deep inside your pussy and your walls are stretched at their maximum. You don't move for a few seconds to get used to him but you soon need more.

Your hands land on Namjoon's firm chest to support you while you're riding him. Each bouncing creates a moan escaping from your lips and Namjoon gets a perfect view on your moving tits delicately enveloped by your bra. Even though the hot pink looks great on you, he prefers you with nothing on and undoes the lacy fabric to free your boobs. When he roughly grabs one of them, your head rolls back, making your moans raspier. You enhance your pace and fuck, you're going crazy. His cock is too big not to hurt when he is deep inside your cunt but it's the most delightful pain of all time. You love how it feels.

Your moves get unsteady as you're feeling your orgasm coming closer and closer. You collapse on Namjoon and he takes the lead. His hands firmly grab your ass and spread your cheeks to give him a better access to your cunt. His fingers are so deep into the soft flesh of your ass that you are sure you'll have bruises tomorrow. He starts pumping you fast and deep like a beast. You mutter your screams in the crook of his neck.

"Fuck, I'm close" You notify him like he doesn't feel your walls tightening at each pounding

Namjoon growls, the vibrations of it going straight inside your breasts pressed against him. Your body jolts with the strength of his poundings. It feels so fucking good, skins clapping loud in rhythm.

"I love it, I love your cock so much" You confess when a wave of euphoria wraps around you

You are so close to say you love him but fortunately for you, you cum before being able to say it out loud. Your whole body shakes while Namjoon's dick keeps entering your swollen pussy full of juices. Your orgasm is so strong that it makes your cunt way too tight for Namjoon to penetrate you like he would like to. He stops his moves but holds you close and kisses you. Your hand caresses his cheek and you rest your forehead against his to catch your breathe. Both of you are sweaty and literally smelling sex.

You lift up your torso to ride his big cock again. Whimpers leave your lips because of the overstimulation but it doesn't make you stop. Quite the opposite. You want Namjoon to fuck you as much as he wants to. If you can't have his love, at least you can have his body.

Namjoon rests on his left arm to be in a more sit position. You wrap your arms around his neck to help you jump up and down on his length, running your fingers in his blond hair at the same time. The change of position makes his cock slightly change the angle, hitting your g-spot.

"Oh my god, right here!" You exclaim with a gasp

He growls when he feels your pussy clenching. His right arm brings you closer to his chest, basically hugging you while you keep bouncing on his dick.

"You're so perfect" Namjoon whispers against your shoulder "My pretty baby"

You have always loved when he calls you like that. Someway, it makes you feel special — ridiculous when he probably gives the same pet name to his other sugar babies.

Namjoon's hand goes up your back to caress the back of your neck. The sweet gesture surprises you but makes you melt instantly. You press your lips against his and he moans at your cunt clenching. He knows you are close again.

"Cum for me, Y/N" He says is a deep voice

"I want to cum with you" You manage to say, your pitch a little higher than usual as you try not to cum

Namjoon nods and sits a little straighter so he can wrap his other arm around your waist. He holds you so tight that it gets hard for you to ride him. You have no other choice than to slow your pace and deepen your moves. You take him deeper every time, making you shiver at the pleasure and rolling your hips to increase the friction.

Namjoon pats your back, your neck and your ass. Fuck, he is so soft that your heart warms up and melts at the same time. It's so hard not to confess your feelings right now as you are feeling loved by him.

"Look at me" He whispers

Your eyes anchor his brown ones. The way he is looking at you is beyond words and you can't hold back any longer. Your orgasm washes over you like a huge wave of pleasure. Your toes curl and your body shakes in Namjoon's strong arms. He immediately joins you and paints your clenching walls with his thick and white shots of cum.

You are both out of breathe and Namjoon kisses you deeply. You rest your head a few minutes on his shoulder as sleep is slowly taking control of your body.

However, the moment is irrupted by the sound of your phone. You leave Namjoon's embrace with regret and look at the screen. You growl in annoyance when you witness the unregistered number you know way too well. Your ex, Soobin, contacts you from time to time when he is drunk. Honestly, you've told him several times to stop that. You didn't want to go as far as blocking his number but now it looks like you don't have other choices.

"Who's that?" Namjoon asks when he sees the wince on your face

"My ex, just ign—"

Namjoon cuts you off as he snatches your device from your hands.

"Hello? Y/N? I miss you so much" Soobin mumbles drunkly on the phone

Jealousy pinches Namjoon's heart. He has just fucked you and another man is trying to take you back. He won't let that happen, he will make clear to your ex that you're not available.

"Stop calling her or I'll make sure you won't" Namjoon barks aggressively

"Who are you?" Soobin asks, completely taken aback

"Her man. Now, if I hear you've contacted her again, you will regret it. Delete her number"

With that, Namjoon hangs up. He is tensed by anger and jealousy. He really doesn't like when men try to steal you away from him. He grabs your chin to capture your lips, not so gently.

"I think he won't call again" You say, shyly

"I hope so"

"Are you jealous?" You tease him

"Of course I am, look at you"

Namjoon is dead serious and it makes you blush. He smiles tenderly at your reaction and drags you down with him onto the mattress. His arms around your frame secure you against him.

"Let's go out tomorrow" He proposes

"Really?" Your voice is the definition of happiness

Namjoon hums in your hair.

"I want to go to the mall so I can spoil my pretty baby"

You giggle and sneak your nose deeper in his chest. You know you will sleep every well tonight.

————

"Okay, that's enough" You say when Namjoon and you leave a sixth shop with hands full of bags

He kept his promise and did spoil you. You have so many new designer clothes and jewelries, you are not even sure if you have enough place for them. Namjoon put the bags down and stops in front of another shop. He grabs your waist to pull you into his side, kissing your forehead in the process.

"I think this little blue panties will look cute on you. I can already picture your pretty ass in it" He says half playful, half serious

Your cheeks get red when you look at the scandalous underwear. It's so tiny, you don't know even see the point of it.

"Stop it!" You whisper, quite ashamed that someone will hear you

"Namjoon?"

A female voice behind you catches your attention. You both turn around to discover who called him. Your eyes open wide when you see a woman in her sixties. She is wearing a very simple yet elegant cream dress. But what catches your attention is her features: they're delicate and her eyes look so much like Namjoon's ones. You look up at him and notice the evident surprise on his face.

"Mom?"

What?!

You never thought that you would meet Namjoon's relatives in your life. You start to panic: how should you introduce yourself? You're not Namjoon's girlfriend but you cannot say you're his sugar baby either, that would be so fucking weird. However, you are clearly not just friends since he was hugging you just a few seconds ago.

Namjoon's mom takes her son in her arms and you smile when you see how big he is compared to her. It doesn't take long for you to realize that the woman is caring and loving. You now understand where Namjoon's kindness comes from.

She turns toward you, waiting for Namjoon to introduce you and you gulp, not knowing how he is going to get out of this odd situation.

"Mom, this is Y/N" He simply says, embarrassed — he doesn't know what to say either

"Nice to meet you!" She greets you warmly

Namjoon clearly gets what's underneath his mother's words: are you the one? Is he finally getting married? Only if his mom knew what kind of relation you two have...

Embarrassment is filling the air but the woman speaks again:

"I hope I'll see you for Namjoon's birthday on Friday"

Her voice is nothing but sweet, trying to make you comfortable

"Y/N will be there, don't worry" Namjoon reassures her but looks at you to silently ask you if it's okay

You can't be happier. A bright smile lightens your whole face. You will get to see another part of Namjoon and the most important one: his family. Is he really going to take this step with you? Fuck, your heart is beating so fast.

"I'm looking forward for it" You tell her, politely

"Well, I see you soon then. I guess you are... occupied" Namjoon's mom says as she takes a look at the shop behind you and you would like to disappear under the ground right now "It was lovely to meet you Y/N"

"You too, Mrs. Kim" You reply with red cheeks as you bow at her

"Bye, mom" Namjoon says as he hugs her again

She places a delicate peck on her son's cheek and continues her journey to another section of the mall.

"I'm so embarrassed" You confess with your hands on your face, which makes Namjoon giggle

"Don't be, baby" He reassures you as he pulls you into his embrace "I think she likes you"

"Really?" You ask with hope

Namjoon nods.

"It's the first time she sees me with a woman"

Is he aware about what his words are doing to you? Certainly not. Namjoon is not aware of the hope he is giving you. You can't help but imagine that, maybe, it's the first step to shift from his sugar baby to his actual girlfriend. Your heart beats so loud and fast in your chest at that thought.

"Let's get these panties" You finally say — he has introduced you to his mother, you can wear these ridiculous panties to make him happy

————

You don't really know how it happened but your life has turned into a roller coaster of emotions: you are so happy that you feel like flying and the very next moment everything seems to be crashed down. The latter is what you are feeling right now.

Honestly, the day has started quite good and you just wanted to go to the mall to find a gift for Namjoon's birthday. You've been searching for hours on the Internet for a good idea. When you thought about giving up, you saw a Vogue article about the new Bogetta Venata leather goods collection. The travel bag was so pretty that you basically ran to the store.

At that time, you were still very happy. But your whole mood changed when you met Lisa. You know damn well who she is: she had called Namjoon on FaceTime one day when you were with him. She also knows who you are since you were clearly visible — and very naked — in the back on the screen.

Your body is so tensed. You don't even know what to say to her so you hope she'll just ignore you. Well, it's not really Lisa's character...

"Oh, hi, sweetie!" Her voice is high and she looks so fucking hypocrite

"Hi" You reply with way less enthusiasm

"Did you find something nice?"

It takes you a few seconds to realize she is talking about your shopping session.

"Oh, I'm buying some birthday presents"

You're not sure you should say it's for Namjoon. However, Lisa surely knows his birthday date.

"If it's for Namjoon, you shouldn't bother" She snaps and you frown "You should start looking for a new sugar daddy, sweetheart. Namjoon is growing sick of us"

"What do you mean?" You say despite feeling that there is no air in your lungs right now

"He told me he doesn't want sugar babies anymore"

Shock is written all over your face but Lisa smirks. She was right: Namjoon was indeed keeping one girl. Too bad she met you today and told you the truth. She leaves you in the middle of the mall hall, completely lost.

Namjoon is cutting ties with all his sugar babies. It's just a matter of time before he does it with you. Fuck, it's going to hurt so bad. You can't wait with a sword of Damocles hanging above your head. You can't control Namjoon breaking your heart, however you can choose when he does it.

That's why you send him a text, asking if you can meet him at his office. He doesn't take too long to tell you you can come. You don't go to the receptionist this time and directly take the elevator for the twenty-sixth floor. Your hands are both sweaty and shaky as you are walking to Namjoon's office. You know how much you will be hurt when you step out of the room later and you are not really eager for it.

You knock on the door and hear Namjoon telling you to come in. The scene is painfully familiar but so much different at the same time since the mood is at the opposite of the last time you went to his office. You take a last deep breathe and open the door to face him. Fuck, he doesn't make anything easy. Why does he have to be so fucking hot today? And his damn dimple smile when he looks at you is not helping either.

However, his smile quickly disappears when Namjoon notices the look on your face. You are usually so cheerful, always smiling or blushing when you see him. But right now, he can only see pain on your pretty face.

"Is something wrong?" He asks with his eyebrows furrowed

"I want to talk about the contract" Your voice is way less confident than you would like it to be and it already sounds hurt

"What about it?"

You gather all your courage but you can't look at him. And goddamn, you can feel tears blurring your vision.

"I want to stop it"

The room is silent for a long moment. The tension is so big you feel like suffocating. You still don't look at Namjoon but you do hear him standing up and walking to you. You obliviously can't see how clenched are his jaws. He softly cups your face with his big hands and you finally look up. It takes everything you have not to let your tears from rolling down on your cheeks.

"Why? Did something happen?" He asks with some pain mixed with worry in his voice

"I just don't think it's what I want anymore"

It's the biggest lie of your life. You want him. More than everything. The real words that should have left your mouth are: 'I know it's not what you want anymore'. You hate the burning feeling in your chest. It's squeezing your heart so much you can't even breathe properly.

"I see" Namjoon simply replies and takes a step back

It's even more painful to feel the void he leaves. On your skin but also in your heart. Is that it? Is he not going to say anything? Deep down you wished he would try to change your mind but he doesn't. You really did imagine everything. You really fantasied his caring for you. You are so fucking stupid. All he cared about was your body. He even told you from the start, why did you think otherwise? Because of the way he looked at you? Because of his arms tenderly hugging you after sex? That's bullshit. The truth is that it didn't mean anything for him.

"I should get going" You say with a dry throat

Namjoon nods. You hope, for the last time, he'll say something but he doesn't. So you step out of his office, just before you burst into tears.

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Taglist @gimeow @whoreseok723

#bts fanfic #bts #bts smut #fanfic #bangtan sonyeondan #bts namjoon #namjoon smut #kim namjun #kim namjoon #namjoon #knj x reader #knj smut #knj

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persphonesorchid · 5 months

Text

Orbiting Jupiter - KNJ

Summary: Namjoon has never met someone like you in a long time. Jupiter to his Ganymede; he's stuck in your orbit.

Warnings: Lots of anxiety on Namjoon's part, mentions of being stalked, Namjoon hurts himself more than anything bc he's clumsy. Smut (Minors begone.): Unprotected sex, mutual masterbation, light spit play, Namjoon's daddy kink is a brief topic of interest lol. I think that's all, let me know if i missed any!

Word count: 13.4k

Genre: Idolverse, strangers to lovers, fluff, a bit of angst (it's not much, promise :)) Smut

Notes: FINALLY FINISHED!! This would have been out a whole lot sooner, but i've been dealing with life, stress, a breakup...more stress lol. But it's all good now! I really hope you guys enjoy this, and please leave feedback, even if it's just a little smiley face in the comments! Have a good day!!

Masterlist

Namjoon is dressed casually enough, he thinks. Inconspicuously enough that he won’t be recognized, enough that he could become another face in the crowd; enough to blend in.

It’s early, but the city is bustling with people starting their day. He tries not to be suspicious, as much as he could. Tries to navigate a city he’s been in many times before like he’s lived there his whole life. He tries not to look over his shoulder too much, guard up, like he’s just waiting for someone to run up to him and demand his attention. The mask and hat he picked out before he sneaked out of his hotel room brought him little comfort. He hopes that no one would give him a second glance or look too closely.

To this day he’d never understand how his fans can tell him apart by the way he walks, or by his eyes alone. So, he keeps his head down, hands in his pockets, and tries not to think too much about his stride.

He’s not sure what he’s looking for, what he’s doing out of his hotel room so early. He has no schedule today, free to do what he likes, and he just needed to get out for a minute or two. He wasn’t planning on straying too far, especially since he’s told no one that he was leaving. He found himself just walking, though, enjoying the sights and the people leading simple lives.

He finds a little café after walking some more, and stands outside it, out of the way of the door to avoid being an issue. It’s crowded inside, and anxiety curls in his stomach as he contemplates going in. He believes no one would recognize him, he hopes that no one would look too long, and he steps inside.

It’s a bit quieter than he expected, people talking in low murmurs amongst themselves. The loudest things being the sound of a coffee grinder running and a barista calling someone for their order. It’s a small café, more dining space than workspace, and Namjoon wanders over to the resister and orders without issue.

His eyes trail over the other patrons, everyone absorbed in their own worlds and conversations. The table he eyes quickly gets taken while he collects his iced Americano and he sighs softly, despite the amount of people in, he doesn’t want to leave yet, and the only available spot to sit comes with another person. Namjoon weighs his options. He could go outside, find a little park to sit in and drink his coffee, or he could risk it here, where someone has yet to pay him any mind. It’s been so long since he’s been able to walk freely, he knows he’ll miss it when he goes back through the front door.

So, with cautious steps, he walks over to the table with the only available seat.

“Excuse me...” Namjoon softly calls, briefly contemplating on tapping your shoulder; you’re reading a book, and he knows well how easily one can get lost in those. You look up though, the tiny furrow between your brows gives way to your confusion, as well as the little humming sound you make. “Sorry...do you mind if I...”

Namjoon motions to the chair across from you, and you look at it and then back to him for a few seconds before realization blooms in your eyes.

“Oh! No, of course...just...go ahead.” Your smile is pretty, Namjoon notes, and he realizes, as he thanks you and sits, that you recognize him. You stare at him in a knowing kind of way, and before Namjoon can up and leave, you simply smile the way you had before, as though he was any other stranger wanting to share your table. He watches with bated breath, trying to stay calm just in case, and you just go back to reading your book.

There’s no fanfare, no freaking out and drawing attention, or asking for a photo and too invasive questions. You don’t even look at him again. The sound of you flipping the pages of your book melds into the background noise of the space, and Namjoon finds it strange. He thanks his stars, though, he’s not about to look a gift horse in the mouth and risk losing his head.

He relaxes when you continue to pretend he isn’t sitting in front of you, your eyes following the words on the page. There’s a tap of your fingers against the wooden tabletop, and a minute shake of your head before you close your eyes for a moment. You take an agitated breath, and Namjoon pauses the movement of him trying to get the straw underneath the bottom of his mask and watching you at the same time. He tries to peek at the cover of the book you’re reading, curious.

You shake your head again, muttering to yourself before going back to reading, your expression quickly blanks as you start back up again. Namjoon sips his coffee, for once feeling relaxed in a room full of strangers and lets his eyes trail elsewhere. Over to the little potted flowers that line the windows, or the people passing outside.

There’s a sudden squeak from you and Namjoon looks at you in time to catch the look of utter disbelief on your face. With frantic fingers you fish a bookmark from the back pages of the book before marking your spot and closing the book with a soft smack. Gently, with enough care that someone would think you’re handling glass, you place the book onto the table with a sigh and pick up your drink. You still don’t look his way, sipping at your drink with a frown and an irritated draw to your brows. Not that Namjoon is complaining, he swears he isn’t. It��s just...weird. He expected you to at least sneak a glance by now.

Curiosity should be a cardinal sin, as it’s gotten him into trouble more times than he could count, but Namjoon decides to dig his own grave anyway.

“What were you reading?” He asks, and it takes a moment, you’re clearly in your head, staring off at nothing and muttering into your drink. You look at him when his words finally break through.

“Huh? Oh...” You set your cup down, turning the book to him, “'The Desolation of Devil’s Acre'. It’s the last book of a series I’m following, and the main character is just...” You sigh through your nose, “He’s an idiot.”

You talk to him like any stranger, it almost made Namjoon think that you didn’t recognize him at all. He still sees it in your eyes, and as you’ve been adamant not to, he doesn’t address it either.

“I’d bet...” Namjoon chuckles, “If your reaction was anything to go by.”

There’s an embarrassed air about you now as you let out a soft laugh. Namjoon wants to smack himself though, he’d just told you that he’s been staring at you long enough to notice.

“Ah, yeah.” You wave a hand, “I bought it earlier...I was too excited and just got into it but Jacob is an idiot. He just makes me wanna reach in there and smack him silly.”

“Is it good?” Namjoon nods at the book, taking a moment to look at the cover. It’s black and white, a little girl sits on a black chair, a wall of photos is the backdrop, staring into the camera with big clear eyes and someone’s hand is tugging on the sleeve of the black and white chequered striped dress. It seems like a horror novel if Namjoon is being honest.

“I haven’t read much of this one yet, but the previous ones are amazing. Too bad the movie didn’t follow it correctly.” There’s an excitement in your eyes, and you seem perfectly content to rave about all the ways the movie went wrong and did the book absolutely no justice. Namjoon nods along, throwing questions at you about the books when he can, and by the time you’re done he’s laughing at something, and you are too. His iced Americano is now just an Americano that’s just slightly cold, more water than coffee, but Namjoon doesn’t mind and drinks it anyway. He still hasn’t removed his mask, but you don’t seem too bothered by it.

“It just would’ve been so much better if they’d followed the book correctly. I was so excited about the movie, and they just went and messed it up.” You sigh, taking a sip at your drink, Namjoon’s sure it’s cold by now. “You should give it a read, though...” You tilt your head at him, humming, and Namjoon tilts his head back, you can’t see it, but he smiles, the furrowing of his brows you do see.

“What?” Namjoon asks, a little amused by your sudden pause. You study him for a minute, but he’s comfortable enough in this space you’ve created that it doesn’t set off the usual alarm bells in his head. You’ve done wonders for treating him as just another person. Simply Kim Namjoon, who wandered into this small café and took the seat opposite you, and not RM of a globally recognized pop septet.

“You don’t strike me as a fantasy guy.” You say, eyes slightly narrowed.

“Oh yeah? And what do I strike you as?”

He leans forward a bit, genuinely curious, unintentionally flirty. He does his best to reel himself in, not wanting to make you uncomfortable. You take it in stride, though, despite the flush to your cheeks and the embarrassed air that lingers.

“Philosophy, poetry...maybe a bit of romance.” You finally say, smiling a bit.

Namjoon hums, leaning back into his chair, “You know a lot.” He says, but between the string of words lies the unspoken ‘You know me.’. He studies you as you study him, your face betraying no emotion.

You simply shrug, lifting your cup to your lips again, “Human decency.”

Namjoon quite likes your company, and he spends an hour more sitting opposite you, enjoying the sense of normalcy you provide. He wonders what you both look like to onlookers, like two friends who haven't seen each other in a while and are simply catching up. It feels that way for Namjoon.

He sits there until his coffee is finished and yours is too and you’ve tucked your book away and you're both talking again about anything that comes to mind. You don’t ask him about his work, but you ask about what he’s into these days, he recommends books and music he’s sure you’ve never heard of, and you do the same.

Time passes and then some more, and it's enough time for someone to realize that he’s missing. His phone vibrates against his leg right in the middle of him explaining why he thinks some things that happen in life can’t simply be chalked up to coincidences and he startles, leg jerking, knocking his knee against the underside of the table.

It rattles the empty cups topside with a dull thud and a sharp pain shooting up Namjoon’s leg, you wince with him, and he mutters a string of expletives. Rubbing a hand furiously against the offended spot, Namjoon fishes his phone from the pocket of his jeans, not bothering to check who’s calling before he answers.

“Hello?”

“Namjoon-ah, where are you?” Seokjin’s voice is a little far away and a little distracted. He suddenly yells a curse and Namjoon can only assume he’s spent his morning breaking in some new game he bought. “Sejin-nim was looking for – fuck, I hate this game – something about a briefing. You’re not in your room.”

“Ah, Hyung. I took a walk...I’m not far. Yeah – I'm coming back...Okay.” Namjoon glances at you as he pockets his phone again, smiling with his eyes.

You smile back, waving a hand, understanding as he picks up the empty take away cup and stands to leave. There’s no complaint from you, nothing in your eyes that tells of anything else. “It was nice meeting you.” You say softly, leaning forward a bit even though the chances of you being overheard by anyone else was slim.

“You too.” Namjoon says, and he means it. You’re like a diamond in a coal mine, as finding someone like you – being who he is - was rare. As soon as the thought crosses his mind, Namjoon pauses in the step he makes, faltering at your side and you look up at him curious and confused. He wars with himself for a moment, he’s certain that he’s about to do something stupid.

Something he should never do because of how dangerous it could be not only for him but his groupmates. He stares at you for a moment, long enough that it warrants your concern, and you ask if he's okay.

“Can I... Is it okay if I ask for your number?” The words come tumbling out of his mouth before he can reel them in, and he’s standing there a little mortified.

Namjoon always prides himself in being self-assured, but that same self-assurance leads him to putting his foot in his mouth sometimes and he says things without thinking first. It’s too late to pull the words back or act like he hadn’t asked because you’re blinking up at him, sitting a little straighter now in your seat.

You glance around, brows furrowed, “Are...are you sure?”

For the first time, it seems as though it just registered that you’re speaking to RM of BTS.

There’s a nervousness about you now, as you glance to the side, and Namjoon finds this strange. He’s not trying to sound like an ass thinking that many others would jump at the offer – or be bold enough to demand it first – it’s simply the truth.

He finds your consideration refreshing, though, and he waits patiently for you to make up your mind. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth and Namjoon backtracks, a hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck.

“It’s okay if you don’t want to.” Namjoon says, putting up a hand. Despite who he is in the eyes of the public; he’s still a man. A man you’ve only spoken to for a half hour who’s now asking for your number, Namjoon would think very hard about it if he were in your shoes, too.

“I don’t meet a lot of people like you, and I thought it would be nice if we spoke often, but if that’s not cool, that’s okay.”

You shake your head, “No... it’s okay. I just...Are you sure? I don’t want to put you in any difficult spots, or myself for that matter...”

You’re surprisingly calm, looking more wary than anything else, and Namjoon takes that as a good sign. “I’m sure, don’t worry.” He smiles and pulls his phone out of the pocket of his jeans; he unlocks it with a press of his thumb and hands it over to you.

You fumble a little with the device, fingers tapping at the number pads quickly before handing it back to him. He shoots you a quick text, a simple ‘Hi :”)' before he was pocketing his phone again before he was waving and making his way out the café door.

Namjoon tries his hardest to keep walking forward back down the street and not jog back over to the glass window to wave at you. That would be very weird of him.

Namjoon’s day goes on as normal, not like he was expecting anything different. A whirlwind of briefings and meetings and discussions on what would be done during his group’s free time. It's no different to any other time, but by the end of the day Namjoon’s brain feels like mush and he’s lying in bed, palms under his head as he gazes at the swirling patterns etched into the ceiling.

He sighs, it’s long, drawn out and tired. He blinks slowly, sitting up to lean against the headboard. The sun had long set and only the glow of the city lights penetrated the darkness of his hotel room through the large window.

He squints at the lights that are too far off to be anything but hovering blobs in the distance, and briefly, he wonders what you’re up to.

Oh, that’s right.

Namjoon fumbles through the mess of his sheets to find the phone he knows he tossed there somewhere. It’s nowhere near him and he stands, lifting the sheets to look. There’s a dull thud and a clatter, and with a sigh, Namjoon rounds the bed to find his phone on the floor.

He plops back on the bed, pressing the power button and inspecting the screen for cracks. There’s a flurry of notifications and emails and texts from his group mates and work, and Namjoon scrolls through his notification feed. At the bottom, he finds a text from you; a reply to the message he’d sent earlier.

‘Hi (:’

It’s cute in its simplicity, but Namjoon stares at the place where your contact information sits. Just your number and nothing else, and Namjoon comes to the realization that he didn’t ask you for your name at any point this morning.

You had responded hours ago, and had sent nothing else, and with some embarrassment, Namjoon types out a message.

Namjoon: Hey, sorry I missed your text! Busy day, you know?

He frowns at the message when it goes through, at the time stamp that reads a little past midnight. You’re probably asleep and the timing seems a little less than ordeal, a little inappropriate given the hour, but Namjoon lets out a surprised hum when the bubbles appear at the bottom.

Unknown: Hey! No worries, it’s totally okay.

Namjoon: You’re up late...

Namjoon pulls his bottom lip between his teeth, was that a weird thing to mention? He can’t help but feel like he’s blowing this somehow. Is there a right way to text someone you barely know? He shakes his head, deciding not to think too much on it.

Namjoon: Sorry, but I didn’t ask your name earlier.

Unknown: Haha, that’s okay. It’s Y/n. And yeah, I was just finishing up some work.

Namjoon contemplates his next question, nerves running amok in his tummy.

Namjoon: Can I call you? Is that okay?

The bubbles appear and disappear for a moment and Namjoon thinks he’s overstepped. It’s pushing one in the morning and Namjoon’s aware of how it may look to you, how it may look to anyone else for that matter.

Y/n: Sure, we can do that.

Namjoon sighs, looking out the window, away from his phone to give himself a moment. You too – he’s mindful of himself, of course. He taps on the call button before he could talk himself out of it.

The line rings for a couple seconds, and Namjoon thinks that maybe you’ve stepped away for a minute or perhaps this was the wrong move and he shouldn’t have asked, but you pick up before another ring could sound. It’s quiet for a second and then he hears you inhale softly.

“Hey.” Your voice sounds a little different over the phone, or maybe it's just the time and Namjoon’s mind is trying to go places it shouldn’t. You’re as calm as you were this morning in the cafe, nothing in your voice betrays your emotion.

“Hey.” Namjoon can’t help the smile, and he’s sure you heard it in his voice. “I know it’s late, I’m sorry.”

“Nah, you’re good. I had a coffee so I’ll be awake for a while again.”

Despite your words your voice sounds tired and Namjoon feels guilty, laying back against the headboard with a soft sigh.

He asks about the book you’re reading and he listens to your rambles about the chapter you finished. Then you both talk about anything that comes to mind.

“How’d your day go? You don’t have to be too specific or anything, just in general.” You murmur softly, when Namjoon’s laying down fighting to keep his eyes open because he doesn’t want to hang up yet.

“Hectic.” He answers honestly, he can hear you shuffle around, getting comfortable in your sheets. “You?”

“It was alright, I spent half the morning freaking out, really. Today felt a little dream-like. If you hadn’t texted, I probably would’ve convinced myself that I imagined the whole thing.” You chuckle, and then there was a small pause, “Sorry, I’ve been so chill about it this whole time.”

“You’re fine. Handling it better than most.” Namjoon says, “I’m glad you didn’t freak out when you met me though.”

“Human decency.” You repeat your words from earlier, and Namjoon feels a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, “You’ve probably had enough of that to last you a lifetime.”

“It’s not too bad, sometimes anyway.” He says softly, halfway asleep and he’s sure you are too. Your voice is getting quieter, and Namjoon can’t keep his eyes open.

When Namjoon wakes it’s to the sun shining into his eyes and his phone is still in his palm. It’s a little after eight am when he checks, and the call had already been disconnected sometime around seven. There’s a message wishing him a good morning from you, there’s a flutter in his tummy at the little yellow heart that ends the text, and he thinks it may be a little too early for that kind of response. He can’t help it though, and he lays in bed for another few minutes and stares at it with a stupid smile on his face.

He wonders what to do with his day, now with more than enough free time on his hands to do whatever he likes and then he wonders what you were doing today. There’s an all-consuming longing for the sense of normalcy you provided within the day he’s known you, and he knows that isn’t much time to find comfort in a person, but he guesses that’s just how it is when you live like he does. However, he doesn’t want to scare you away with his need to feel something that was long lost to him, so he puts off asking you anything.

He has a few things lined up on his personal itinerary: Museum crawls and sightseeing, all of which he would do alone and hopefully without any troubles along the way. He finally decides to bite the bullet when he’s done with his breakfast and sitting at the small table in his hotel room, fiddling with his phone and his bottom lip between his teeth. You hadn’t replied to his responding text from earlier and Namjoon can only assume you’re busy, but he texts anyway.

Namjoon: Are you busy today?

He locks his phone and cleans up the table, snatching his phone up when it chimes softly, smiling already.

Y/n: Not particularly…why?

Namjoon could never distinguish tone from texts, so he’s not sure if you’re suspicious or teasing, so he replies carefully.

Namjoon: I’m doing a thing today…some sightseeing or I might go to a museum…wanna come with?

The bubbles disappear and reappear and then you’re calling.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to. Don’t feel obligated to either.” Is the first thing he says when he answers, just to be certain.

“It’s not that I don’t want to, I’d love to. I just need to know if it’s okay.” There’s a hesitance in your voice, a certain type of worry.

Namjoon is quick to ease, “I wouldn’t have asked if it wasn’t, Y/n.” He says with a chuckle.

“Ah, okay.” You laugh a little, “Oh but what about...do I have to sign an NDA?”

Namjoon pauses, he’s forgotten about that. He runs a hand through his hair, “Is that okay?”

“That’s fine.” There’s a smile in your words and Namjoon can’t help but smile back. “Where do I meet you?”

Namjoon sat across from his manager, Sejin, in his hotel room. He clears his throat, feeling a bit nervous about what he was going to ask.

“Sejin,” Namjoon begins, “there’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Sejin, always attentive to Namjoon’s needs, leaned forward. “Sure, what’s on your mind, Namjoon?”

Namjoon hesitated for a moment before continuing, “There’s a friend I met recently, and I was hoping to bring her along with me when I go to the museum today.”

Sejin raises an eyebrow, his protective instincts kicking in. “A friend? Are you sure that’s a good idea, Namjoon? You know how public spaces can get, especially with a girl by your side.”

Namjoon nods, understanding Sejin’s concern. He’s well aware of how things can get, being who he is, especially in the eyes of some of his fans. “I know, Sejin. She's a good friend of mine, she won’t cause any trouble.”

Of course, Namjoon doesn’t know that for sure, but he’s willing to take the risk, and Sejin doesn't need to know he'd only met you yesterday; what he doesn't know won't kill him. One thing he’s certain of is that you’re different, and that’s something he can bet on.

Sejin contemplates for a moment, silent as he thinks before sighing. “Alright, Namjoon. I trust your judgement. But we need to take some precautions. We’ll have her sign a non-disclosure agreement to ensure our privacy and safety.”

Namjoon smiles, relieved that Sejin was willing to accommodate him. “Thank you.”

Namjoon paces in the hotel lobby an hour later, nerves making him unable to stand still for too long. He had met you just a day ago, but there’s something about you that intrigued him deeply. The way you’ve treated him like a regular person, not as the famous musician he was, is perhaps the biggest factor. He found that both fascinating and endearing.

Moments later, you walk into the lobby, looking a bit nervous yourself. You smile when you spot him, lifting your hand in a little wave. Your smile immediately puts Namjoon at ease. You’re wearing a simple dress, a backpack slung over one shoulder, walking over to him in quick steps.

“Hey.” You stop once you’re close enough, still smiling.

Namjoon smiles back, feeling a sense of relief. “Hey, Y/n Thanks for coming.”

You wave him off with a hand, looking around at the large lobby, the lights sparkling in your eyes.

Sejin is waiting at a table near the reception desk, and stands to shake your hand when Namjoon leads you over.

You take a seat and go through the formalities with him, and sign the NDA without complaint. Namjoon can’t help but feel a little worried, like he’s turning your life on its head by knowing him personally.

Namjoon watches the scenery pass by through the tinted glass of the car Sejin rented, the small talk died down as he pulled into the carpark of the museum. He leads you through the private entrance, where the manager meets you both with an enthusiastic greeting.

The museum is empty, and Namjoon catches the wonder in your eyes when he looks at you. “You rented out the whole place?”

Namjoon chuckled. “Yeah, I normally do. It’s more so for safety than anything else.”

You hum, nodding in understanding as you trail next to him. “It’s pretty cool, I’ve never been in one while it’s empty before.”

The private tour begins, and Namjoon’s knowledge and passion for art shines through as he explains the significance of each piece, trying his best to keep you entertained. You listen intently, genuine interest evident, even asking questions in between his rambling.

“You know,” You say, staring at a painting of abstract colours, “This is not at all how I imagined this to go.”

Namjoon raises an eyebrow, intrigued. He’s long stopped paying attention to the art that lined the walls, admiring you, mostly. “Oh? What did you imagine?”

You shrug, turning your head to look at him, a playful glint in your eye. “Well, I expected bodyguards, and a bit of running around. This is nice, though.”

Namjoon smiles, nodding, “Yeah, I would usually have someone close by, but I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

You frown a bit, “Isn’t that dangerous though? You should have someone nearby regardless.”

“Your comfort is important.” Namjoon says, trying to keep you from worrying too much.

“Your safety is too, you know.”

“Would it make you feel better if I told you he’s right outside?” Namjoon smiles, he could see you’re ready to debunk his words with the way your eyes narrow. “Don’t worry, someone’s near, just not as near as they would be normally.”

You stare at him for a quiet moment longer, “Okay, I’ll take your word for it.”

As the both of you continued your tour, the conversation between you flowed effortlessly. Namjoon took the moment he had to know more about you. Asking about your dreams, how far you’ve gotten in that book of yours, and the places you wanted to travel to. He found you easy to talk to, allowing himself to open up to you in a way he hadn’t with many people.

Something in the back of his mind, a learned warning echoed. He really shouldn’t be, considering everything. He chooses to ignore it for now, as you ask him about his favourite pieces of art.

By the time the tour was over and Namjoon actually remembered to take photos of the art, the sun was at its zenith. He tries not to take too long touring, so the museum can at least open to the public for the rest of the day.

You’re scrolling through your phone, looking at the photos you took of the pieces that caught your attention.

“Wanna get some food? There’s a good place nearby.” Namjoon asks, tucking his phone into his jeans.

You nod, smiling, “I can eat.”

Namjoon drives you both to a diner he’d visited once or twice when he was last in this city. The diner was packed for the lunch rush and Namjoon contemplates his next move in the car.

“Oh, that’s...” You glance between him and the view of the people in the diner, “I’ll go, whatchu want?”

“I can go...” You’re already unbuckling your seat belt and leaning down to rummage through your backpack. You find your purse with a soft ‘a-ah!’, smiling at him as you right yourself and turn to him again.

“It’s alright. It’s pretty crowded... you might not be so lucky this time.” You say, “Want anything specific?”

Namjoon smiles at you, shaking his head with a small laugh, “Anything’s fine.”

You nod, opening the door, there’s a rush of warm air that disturbs the AC, and Namjoon is stopping you. “Hang on...”

He sees you shake your head as he reaches for his wallet, and you step out before he can hand you his card.

“You can get it next time.” With that you’re off, and Namjoon watches a little slack jawed as you go.

Something in his chest flips and crawls up his throat, “...next time?”

You come out of the cafe, balancing two cups of something colourful in a cardboard holder and two brown paper bags a good five minutes later. Namjoon leans over to the passenger seat to pop the door open for you, extending his arm to take the holder.

“I got you a smoothie if that’s okay,” You say once you settle, passing him one of the paper bags, “Ham, egg and cheese sandwich.”

“Smoothies are good, thank you,” The smoothie is a mix of some fruit and another he can’t put his finger on. He hums at the sweet taste, “Oh, that’s good.”

For a moment, you both quietly eat, “Thanks for inviting me to come with you. I had fun.”

“Sure you weren’t bored out of your mind?” Namjoon teases, smiling when you reach over to smack his arm lightly.

“I was not!” Your giggle rings like a bell, “I mean it.”

As the days go by and his time in this city draws nearer to an end, Namjoon tries his best to spend as much time with you as he could. He’d text and call when he can and when your time allows it, learning more about you as he went along and liking you more as he did. He felt strange for the most part, as his two-week break comes to an end and he’s packing his things away and double checking that he doesn’t forget anything or pack something that isn’t his. His phone is propped up against the bedpost, distracted from folding his clothes by the view of you coming back into the frame.

“You’ll be busy once you get back, right?” You ask, sipping juice through the straw of a juice box.

Namjoon sighs, “Yeah, I’ll try my best to keep up with you, though.”

“You don’t have to.” You wave him off with a hand, “You’re a busy guy.”

“Would you miss me?” Namjoon asks, curious, because he’ll miss you. Is it normal to feel this way about someone you’ve known for only a short while?

“Nah.”

“Ow.”

“I’m kidding.”

Namjoon rolls his suitcase behind him, taking a moment to wave at the paparazzi and the fans that litter the terminal. He grips his phone tightly in his free hand, smiling at the cameras. He’s slept a little on the plane over, and even though he’s wide awake now he knows he’ll crash later. His phone buzzes in his hold and he briefly glances at it, he texted you right before he landed, and was eagerly awaiting your response.

He waits until he’s seated in the car at the entrance, he waves one last time through the window before he rolls it right up and settles into the leather seat of the car. The silence is soothing and Namjoon watches as the people outside filter away now that he’s inside.

Y/n: Hope your flight went okay!

Namjoon studies the text for a moment, bottom lip caught between his teeth. He was a little worried, honestly. He likes you, a lot, really, but what if it was simply in passing? A fleeting moment of interest? What if it all amounts to nothing in the end all because you’re you and he’s him? It’s easier to date within your own circle, to be with people who understand the complications and compromises that come with being with someone like him. He feels as though now, with an ocean between you both, everything will simply fade away. He’s known you barely two weeks, and even though he’s let you in, and you him, Namjoon can’t help his growing anxiety at the thought. Funny it occurs to him now that he’s back home.

Namjoon: It did!

He stares out the window for a bit, watching the familiar streets zoom by and shakes his head. When was the last time he actually felt like this? Meeting people is hard enough, and meeting someone like you is even harder. He’s seen and met a lot of people over the years, over his time as RM of BTS, a lot of fans who he thought beautiful and never pursued. He knows what comes of relationships between an idol and a fan, he’s seen it happen and it’s always a disappointment to be used like that. But he doesn’t want to put you in that box, he has no right to when you’ve shown him differently. Though, he’s in his right mind to keep an eye out for tabloids and articles of the things he’s shared with you and he also feels guilty that he does. He’s only known you for a short time, something he constantly has to remind himself of when he’s thinking too hard, but that level of trust is something he’s willing to work towards with you.

Namjoon’s days blur together into the weeks as they would when he’s too busy to do anything else but what’s required of him. Meetings here and there, album preparations; work. As he promised, he tried his best to keep up with you, and even on the days where all he could do when he comes home is pass out wherever he sets himself, you text or call to make sure he’s doing okay with it all. Sometimes it’s too early for you to consider being awake or it’s late at night and you’re too tired to keep your eyes open and Namjoon could barely understand what’s coming out of your mouth.

As the weeks meld into months you both found a routine that works best, and Namjoon finds things to do with you when you’re both free at decent times. Maybe you’ll watch a movie or play games together or simply catch up on things you’ve missed.

Namjoon never really has much to tell, most of his days are filled with work and despite his reputation for spoilers, he’s trying his best to keep things under wraps. You do most of the talking, you never seem to mind it much – smiling with a certain understanding – and Namjoon is always happy to listen about what you did that day or your workplace gossip.

He’s found it impossible to get you out of his head and focus more often, thoughts of you invading his mind more than anything else.

Even now as he tries to focus on putting a track together, he’s barely with it, phone propped up against a speaker and waiting for you to get back from getting some things done. He moved from the living room to his home studio a while ago, determined to get some work done and now just sits and stares at the tracks with a frustrated frown. He squints at the screen, moving some things around and playing the same track over and over.

“Where’re your glasses?”

Namjoon glances at his phone to see you just settling back on your couch, a glass bowl of cereal in your hand. You look cute in blue jellyfish printed pajamas he hasn’t seen you in before, hair pulled up and away from your face and even through the phone screen Namjoon can see it’s still damp.

“They’re…” He thinks for a moment, “…somewhere…”

You chuckle, “You should get those thingies kids and old people put on their glasses so they won’t lose them.”

“Trying to say something?”

“I’m just saying…you either lose them or break them and you can just avoid both by getting the thing. I know contacts are annoying.”

Namjoon smiles, nodding, “Yeah, they’re a pain in the ass.” He sighs, pushing his chair away from the desk to spin around and stretch his fingers. “Isn’t it late for you?”

You put another spoonful of cereal in your mouth, turning your hand to look at your watch and hum, “It’s not that late…trying to get rid of me?”

“Never.” Namjoon smiles at your teasing tone, “Sleep is important, though.”

“Says you.” You point a finger at him, “You texted me at three am two days ago.”

“You were awake though, so…you’re losing this argument.” Namjoon laughs as you snap your mouth shut.

You point your spoon at him, “I’ll win next time.”

“Are those new? The pyjamas.” Namjoon asks, propping his chin on his hand, resigning himself to not getting any work done this morning.

“I’ve had these a while, aren’t they cute? There’s a really big jellyfish printed on the back.” You say, setting your bowl down with a soft clink of the glass against the wood of your coffee table.

“Yeah they’re…” Namjoon feels the words stall in his throat as you stand up, the bottoms of the pajamas aren’t long legged pants as he expected them to be. They end just above the middle of your thighs, and you’re giving him quite the show when you turn and come back down. The sight of the cartoonish jellyfish on the back of the top knocks Namjoon back where he’s supposed to be and he pinches the back of his hand.

When you right yourself, sitting back on the couch, Namjoon can’t stop thinking about the rest of you he can’t see.

“What’s with that look?” You ask after a moment of him just staring.

“What look?” Namjoon asks back, and for a second you simply watch him before you huff out a laugh and look away.

“You’re looking at me like you…” You start, eyes moving back to the camera before they flit away again, “Oh, my mum’s calling. I’ll text you in the morning, okay?”

Namjoon laughs a bit, nodding as he waves you goodbye, “Sleep well.”

“Ah, fuck.” Namjoon grunts, the muscles of his arm strains and he tilts his head back, sweat trailing down his neck. He brings his arm up and then back down slowly, letting a breath out through his nose, “Shit.”

The music playing through his Bluetooth headphones suddenly fades out, the specific ringtone he set for you plays softly. Namjoon sets the dumbbell down on the floor, pressing a finger against the touchpad of one of the earbuds and answers.

“Hey Princess, what’s up?” He pulls at the end of his tee, fanning the cool ac air against his warm skin.

“Joon, it’s a video call.”

“Oh.” Namjoon pulls his phone from his pocket, waving at you with a smile, “Hi.” He gets off the bench he’s sitting on, propping his phone somewhere safe and sits again.

“Hi…are you – damn give me a warning, won’t you?”

Namjoon looks up at you just in time to catch you looking away, not missing the motion of you biting your bottom lip. He smirks, whether you’re aware of it or not; this is payback. He had a hard time not thinking of you in those short pyjama pants for two days, and even though this was completely unintentional, it was worth your reaction.

“I don’t know what you mean.” Namjoon smiles innocently.

You shake your head, “Anyway…guess what.” He hears the excitement in your voice rather than see as you’ve stepped out of frame and then quickly back in with a bottle of water in hand. There’s a big bright smile on your lips and you seem to be bouncing a bit in place.

“Well someone’s excited.” Namjoon chuckles and you wave at him frantically, “Okay, okay. What?”

You pout, “It’s no fun if you don’t even attempt to guess, you know?”

“There’s like, so many possibilities of my guess being wrong.” Namjoon says and you sigh dramatically.

“Fine, I’ll tell you. Killjoy.” You roll your eyes, the action playful, “I’ll be in your area around this time next week.”

It takes a full minute for Namjoon to process and he almost drops the dumbbell on his foot, “Eh?”

“Hyung…I don’t know what to do.” Namjoon whines, flopping back into the couch in Genius Lab. Seokjin pats his back as Yoongi swivels around in his chair to face him, plucking his headphones out his ears.

“That’s a good thing.” Yoongi says, standing to stretch with a groan, “But also…don’t think about it too much. Overthinking doesn’t do you any good.”

Seokjin sighs, shaking his head, “I think it’s good that she’s coming here. It’s a good way to connect, you know?”

“I know, but…”

“It’s different here, right?” Yoongi supplies, sitting back into his chair but he doesn’t turn away, “Feels like you have to run around in secret. And on top of that she isn’t in ‘our circle’, things can get overwhelming for both of you, especially her.”

Yoongi is right, as he usually was. The last thing he wanted was to have his life and the circumstances of it be too much for you to take. Namjoon told the guys about you once or twice, just in case things between you both became more serious than it is now, he didn’t want them out of the loop and have to explain later.

“I don’t want that to get in the way of a relationship should it happen…” Namjoon runs a hand through his hair, frustrated.

“Alright Joonie, Hyung is gonna explain something so listen carefully.” Seokjin lays a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder and Yoongi makes a face at the tone he uses.

“Why do you sound like you’re gonna talk to him about safe sex?”

Seokjin ignores Yoongi, turning Namjoon to face him with his other hand on the other shoulder, looking serious. “Namjoon. You’re more than your celebrity status. You’re a person with feelings and desires, just like anyone else. If you like this girl, don’t let fame be a barrier. If things get hard, do what all the other adults do; sit and talk about it.”

Namjoon nods, “Right. You’re right. Thank you, Hyung.”

“Now, imagine if I wasn’t here to look after you guys.” Seokjin pats Namjoon’s shoulder, one of his rare deep chuckles filling the brief silence. “Just take her to see all the good places, have fun and you can worry about the rest after.”

It’s a day after you arrive in Korea that Namjoon sees you.

He’s meeting you a block away from the place you’re renting for the two weeks you’ll be here. There’s a slight chill in the air as the tail-end of summer pulls the beginning of autumn, and you’ve unintentionally matched him with your dark clothes and hat. You both had been texting the night before and Namjoon promised to take you somewhere nice while you were free.

“Hi!” your greeting is cheerful, and Namjoon returns it, smiling.

“Settling in okay?” Namjoon asks as he pulls off the curb.

He is determined to make the most of every moment you both spent together, showing you all his favourite spots. You both wandered through bustling markets, sampled street food, and visited historic temples.

When the sun painted the sky with lilac and indigo and the moon chased it away, Namjoon parked his car in the carpark of an observatory. The observatory is closed of course, but there’s an event that Namjoon booked tickets for the moment he saw it. You expressed your love for the cosmos many times before, and Namjoon was more than willing to indulge you. At times he would sit and listen to you ramble on for ages, telling him any and everything.

He flashes you a dimpled smile, making sure his black mask and hat were secured before leading you to the park located at the back of the observatory. The park was a large space with sparse trees and shrubbery dotting the field, the trees are wrapped in fairy lights, which are usually on at night time but are off to allow the best view of the night sky. There are winding paths of gravel that goes every which way, and Namjoon picks the one where less people linger, leading you down it with your hand in his.

He leads you through the winding trails and the other people here for the event until he finds a clear spot where you both can sit comfortably without disturbance.

It’s a clear night, the stars twinkling in the sky above. It’s quiet between you for a moment, where you watch the sky and he’s looking at you. His heart pounds in his ears and he doesn’t know what else to do but look away when you suddenly turn.

“What?” You laugh, leaning slightly to nudge his shoulder with yours.

Namjoon laughs softly, knowing he’s definitely been caught and shakes his head, “Nothing.”

You sigh softly, wrapping your arm around his and leaning your head on his shoulder. He wonders how you both seem to people that may glance a little longer, perhaps like a pair of lovers simply enjoying the night in each other’s company.

Namjoon enters the code for his apartment door, the beep and the sound of the door unlocking is loud in the quiet hallway. He lets you enter first, sliding you a pair of house slippers before he leads you further in.

“Ah, don’t mind the mess...it’s not usually like this...” Namjoon scratches his cheek, eyes caught on the mess that is his coffee table. There’re wads of balled up paper strewn about it, lyrics he started and decided there was nothing he could do with them, his journal left open and his little green cactus pen abandoned. A stack of books on the floor that’s yet to be read.

He quickly walks over to tidy it, picking up the stray pieces of paper.

“Don’t worry about it,” You say, and Namjoon realises you’re not even paying mind to it. Attention fully stolen by the various art pieces he has hung on walls and settled into corners.

The living room of his apartment is large, and in an attempt to make it look less empty, it’s his usual place to put whatever catches his eye. Most of them are paintings, canvases filled with colours and scenery, a book shelf that holds none, instead, a display for finely crafted pottery, potted house plants and a tiny brass horse Taehyung gifted him some time ago. There are picture frames of his family, the boys and other abstract things he took himself filling the emptier spaces on the shelf.

Glass pane windows take up most of the wall on the other side of the room, giving a beautiful view of Hannam in all its glittering glory.

Namjoon makes his way into the kitchen, paper balls clutched in his hands and he asks if you want anything. You’ve wandered over to the shelf, looking at all the different pieces, telling him that water would be fine.

“These are really pretty,” you say, turning to him with genuine admiration. “Are all of them authentic?”

“Some of them are.” He says, getting a glass from his cupboard, and then quietly: “Most of those are from small local ceramists, some of them from charity auctions and things like that.”

There’s something surreal in having you a room away, and not making jokes with him through a phone screen. Namjoon finds himself a little at a loss, a lot clumsier than usual as he knocks his shin against the leg of an island stool. There’s a searing heat that climbs its way from the collar of his shirt to flush the skin of his neck and ears.

He sees the smile that curls the corner of your mouth when you glance at him, “Are you okay?”

Namjoon nudges the stool closer to the lip of the island counter – glaring at it as though it walked into his path just to spite him; he forgot it out this morning, it’s his fault really – and nods. “I’m good.”

He reaches you in three strides, passing you the glass of chilled water. You take small sips of it, and Namjoon tracks the motion of your throat as you swallow.

He gives you a little tour, telling you about the art and any little thing you ask after. Namjoon’s thrilled to share this part of his life with you.

When it got a little later, Namjoon stands in the kitchen, watching water boil because it’s the only thing you let him do. He feels a little embarrassed as you stand somewhere behind him, donned in an apron he barely uses. He’d suggested ordering in and in very you fashion, you’d asked when was the last time he had a home cooked meal. Honestly, it was a while ago, when he visited home.

You’d shook your head, listing the times he would call you while he was eating dinner and you eating breakfast and it would always be some sort of take-out.

You gracefully allow him to crack the pasta and put it in the pot, but that was the most of it.

“I won’t be explaining to anyone how you hurt yourself in here.” You say, lowering the heat under steaming tomato sauce. You’re making pasta, he thinks, as you’ve told him that your knowledge on Korean cuisine isn’t enough for you to try your hand at it.

“You wouldn’t have to, I hurt myself all the time.” Namjoon chuckles, “Can I at least help you cut those?” he motions at the small bowl of washed onions, not waiting for an answer, he pulls a knife from the holder at the corner of the island. He knows how to hold a knife without too much trouble, at least.

As you skilfully prepare dinner, the conversation between you both flow naturally. Talking about whatever comes to mind, anything and everything and laughing over stories. You both settle to eat afterwards, and Namjoon can’t stop singing your praises, he’d go halfway to say that you cook better than Seokjin��Maybe he’s just biassed.

After Namjoon washed the dishes – he swore he wouldn’t let you do anything more – you both took your drinks of bottled beers to the living room. Sitting on the couch, and a movie playing on the mounted tv that neither of you pay attention to, far too engrossed in talking to each other; the well of topics never seems to run dry. Namjoon thinks that’s nice, there’s always something to talk about with you, even if you’re just telling him workplace gossip from two weeks ago, or rambling on about a shell you found on a beach when you were nine.

“Oh shoot-” You turn your wrist to look at your watch, the glass face catching the overhead lights. You squint at the time, something Namjoon once made fun of you for, because who has analogue watches anymore? He doesn’t find it in him to laugh at you now though, as the realisation dawns on him before you can say: “It’s really late…”

He checks his own watch without much reason – thirty minutes past midnight – and he frowns, he’s kept you way later than he intended. “Shit yeah, my bad. Sorry I kept you.”

You wave a hand, smiling at him, “No, it’s okay!” You place the half empty bottle of beer on the little black coaster on the coffee table. You stare out at the city for a quiet moment, “How hard is it to catch a taxi from here?” you ask, and then, quietly to yourself: “Maybe I should call an uber…”

It takes Namjoon a fraction of a second for his mind to fumble, trying to grasp at the words uselessly before they tumble out into the air. His mouth moves faster, though, “Or you could just stay here?”

He blinks at you and you blink back, the words hanging in the air long enough that Namjoon wishes that the floor would open up and swallow him, never to spit him out again. He stumbles with his words, dropping them as though the gears of his mind are grinding to a halt, coating in rust. “Um-If th…uh…you don…”

Then, you smile, your cheeks squishing your eyes. “Only if that’s okay.”

“More than.” Namjoon can’t help his smile back; grateful you didn’t mention him tripping over himself. “I wouldn’t have asked otherwise.”

Twenty minutes later, Namjoon is digging through his drawers for something for you to wear for the night, the blush that had flushed his cheeks earlier had returned with a vengeance as he thought about the fact that you’re staying the night and would be wearing his clothes. He’s still beside himself, not too sure what to do, because this is so far beyond the two of you being friends and talking through calls and texts.

He settles on a long-sleeved tee shirt and black sweatpants and meets you back in the living room, where you stand at the window watching the lights twinkle down below and in the distance. When he announces his return, you turn, looking a little worried and Namjoon once again wonders if he’s crossed a line somewhere. You smile softly, taking the bundle of clothes from his arms.

“Thank you…” You say, and then, softer: “Are you sure it’s okay?”

Namjoon plants his hands on your shoulder, squeezing gently before he leads you back the way he came, following your steps closely with his own. He stops you right outside the bathroom door, “Yes, I’m sure.”

Namjoon lays awake in the dark, staring up at the ceiling. You’re sleeping in the room across from him, well, he assumes you’re asleep by now. The clock at his bedside blinks sleepily, but Namjoon finds it hard to let his mind settle.

When you’d come out of the bathroom earlier, a little over thirty minutes ago, you were practically drowning in his clothes. You’d rolled the legs of the pants a few times but it still swam around your ankles and the tee was at least three times your size.

It’s not like he hasn’t seen you in oversized clothing before. It’s simply the fact that it’s his. It’s been a good few months since he’s met you in that cafe, and a good few weeks since he’s realised he liked you.

It may have happened when you went off on one of your many rambles about something or the other. He’s not quite certain. After spending the entire day with you, Namjoon likes you in his space. Not once have you given him the need to run in the opposite direction, not once have you broken his trust.

Namjoon runs a hand through his hair, kicking his feet under the blanket. Making up his mind, he gets out of bed and marches confidently to his door. He pulls it open and the edge of the door hits his toe. He stands for a moment, with his eyes closed, brows furrowed in pain and a hand over his mouth keeping the pained yelp trapped. “...Ow.”

He takes the five steps across the hallway, raises a hand to knock, takes a breath and turns on his heel. He walks a little ways up the hall.

“Okay. C’mon, it’s not that hard.” He mutters to himself, and then looks back at the door, “This is very hard.”

He’s not sure. He’s sure of himself, and his feelings, but...what if you’re not in the same place he is?

“Joon?” You poke your head out the door, and Namjoon startles. “You good?”

You didn’t look like you went to sleep and he woke you up, though your hair is a bit tousled and Namjoon would like to hope that you’d been just as restless as he was.

“Yeah...”

You give him a look that says you aren’t too convinced, “I heard a thud.”

“Oh...” The ache in his toe rings with a dull echo, and he looks down at his feet and then back at you, “Door...I jammed it against my toe.”

Your eyes flicker downward, and even in the dimly lit hallway he could see your amusement. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, happens all the time.”

“I’m concerned at the fact that you think accidentally hurting yourself this often is normal.” You laugh and Namjoon makes his way over to you but stops short and stares up at the ceiling. You’ve ditched the pants he gave you.

“What are we looking at?”

He glances at you and you’re also looking at the ceiling.

“You’re not wearing pants.”

You must’ve caught yourself, because there’s a soft gasp and the shuffling of your feet. When Namjoon brings his gaze back down you’re peeking at him from behind the door.

“Sorry!” You squeak out, “Sleeping in long pants is uncomfy.”

“It’s okay, I sleep naked sometimes so...” Namjoon couldn’t stop the words before they hit the air, and for a moment they simply hang there as you both stare at each other.

“Not that you should sleep naked...I mean – you can if you want to, really, doesn’t bug me at all...” He’s really trying to reign it in here. “There’s nothing wrong with sleeping like that. As long as you’re comfortable!”

“Relax,” You laugh, sticking your hand out through the gap in the door and the frame to wave him down, “I’m not sleeping naked. I get cold fast.”

“There’s a solution for that.” Another pause, and Namjoon realises how his words sounded as you raise a brow at him, “The heater. There’s a heater in there. I wasn’t suggesting that I could...”

Namjoon sighs, he really does put his foot right in his mouth. So he does what’s best for everyone and just closes it.

Just when he was beginning to think that this moment would be at the top of his 'Awkward situations you’ve created' list, the gap widens just a bit and there’s something shy about your small smile and the way your eyes stay glued to the floor.

“I wouldn’t mind...” Your words are soft and Namjoon wonders for a moment if he misheard. This is the most shy he’s seen you in a while, looking up at him through your eyelashes, fingers caught in the hem of your borrowed tee-shirt; wringing the life out of the piece you hold.

“Yeah?” His voice is equally as soft, giving you room to change your mind if you so wished. You nod mutely and Namjoon gives you a second more to think carefully, only stepping forward when you step back and pull the door with you.

You leave the door open a crack, so that the light from the hallway bleeds into the darkness, and Namjoon watches as you walk over to the bed and crawl under the blankets.

There really isn’t much to this room, equipped with the essentials and a few nick-knacks and a bookshelf he’d put his other books on because there was no space on his other ones. There was a landscape painting hanging above the headboard, something he put there to give the room a bit more personality.

You’re peeking at him from the blankets, the soft mounds of material hiding most of your face from view. It’s a lot cooler here than his room, though the floor is cold under his bare feet and he briefly wondered if you need socks.

He walks soundlessly over and out of habit, he’s already pulling his tee-shirt over his head but pauses when it hangs on the length of his arms. “Shit – sorry.” He pokes his head back through the neck of the tee, “I run hot so I don’t usually sleep with a shirt on.”

“Is that why you sleep naked, too?”

Namjoon is grateful for the dark as heat runs up his neck. He takes it in stride, though, “Yeah. Clothes are constricting sometimes.”

There’s something else in your voice when you giggle, and there’s a shifting of the blankets. “You can keep it off if you want.”

Namjoon hums, “Are you okay with that?”

“As long as you’re comfortable.”

“Your comfort matters, too.” It’s not as though you hadn’t seen him without a shirt before; you shaded video calls during his workout sessions. Even though most of those are spent with you trying not to look at him – Namjoon’s caught you staring more times than he could count. This is different, though, he reminds himself; you’re no longer oceans away.

“I’m comfortable with it.”

“Okay.” Namjoon pulls his shirt off and folds it neatly, placing it on the nightstand before he climbs into bed next to you.

His side of the bed is cold, but he could feel your warmth just inches away. He turns to face you, lying on his side, finding your eyes in the dark.

“Hi.” You’re already facing him and in the darkness, Namjoon smiles.

“Hi.”

Your toes brush his under the covers and Namjoon hisses softly, “Are you cold?”

“A little...”

“Want me to get closer?” Namjoon whispers, and to his surprise, you move over first.

There’s a slight chill to your skin as you settle, resting your head where Namjoon extended his arm and then, close enough that your legs tangle with his and the ghost of your breath tickles his chest. You smell like him, like watermelon and mint; He’s once again grateful for the darkness.

Namjoon lets his other arm rest in the dip where the softness of your stomach meets your waist. It’s quiet when you both stop shuffling about, and your breaths are a tad nervous on the inhale.

“Okay?” Namjoon tries his best not to disturb the quiet, speaking softly. He feels you nod, and a slow flow of warm air as you sigh.

“You’re really warm.”

Namjoon chuckles, and silently, holds you tighter. He lets his chin rest on the top of your head, your hair tickles his nose. It smells faintly of his shampoo – he’s never loved it more. He wants to stay there forever, wrapped in the sweet, gentle scent of honeysuckle, melon and something uniquely you.

Namjoon wonders – and he knows, there’s no point in dwelling on the thought – what would’ve happened if he’d walked out of the cafe that day. Held captive by his responsibilities and his duty to keep his group and their image as spotless as possible. It would’ve been different had you not been the way you are.

He calls your name softly, and he wonders if you can feel the rapid pace of his heart beneath the warmth of your palm. It kicks against his sternum like he’s been running, and he takes a breath. There’s something unspoken here, in this darkened room where only the walls are listening.

Somewhere along the way, during the days that dragged the weeks into months – somewhere – a line was blurred.

Sleep wraps around your tired hum like a warm blanket, the sound of the sheets shifting further shattering the quiet as you lean back a little to look at him.

He lets his hand find the warmth of your cheek, moving until his thumb is resting against the front of your ear and his fingers are nestled in the softness of your hair.

“Wanna ask you something.” He says.

“What’s it?”

Distractedly, Namjoon’s fingers rub tentative circles in your scalp and catches the way your eyes flutter at the feeling.

He smiles when your eyes open and meet his, with the dark he grows confident, and softly: “Can I kiss you?”

His words hang in the air, heavy with desire and affection. In that moment, the weight of his request carries with it a profound realisation.

It’s not just a simple act of physical connection he seeks, but rather a deeper, more profound expression of love. His request bears the weight of all the emotions, vulnerabilities, and hopes he has placed upon this relationship.

The answer now rests in your hands, and Namjoon waits with bated breath for your response.

“Please.” Your answer dances between you both, and Namjoon angles your head upward slightly, and closes the gap with a tentative kiss. Your lips are soft and taste of mint when he runs his tongue along the seam of your mouth. He doesn’t ask for much more, gentle in the way that he pulls you closer, fingers tangling in the soft hair at your nape.

In this moment, there is no need for words. The brush of your skin against his, the sweet taste of your kiss, and the way your bodies gravitate towards each other speak volumes.

Namjoon cherishes every second, every breath shared, as he grows more intoxicated by you.

His heart pounding in his chest, all thoughts of caution and restraint fade away. Giving in completely to his desire and lust, he pulls you close, not wanting this moment to end. The kiss is now an embrace, with both of you giving in fully.

His lips caress yours, his touch slowly becoming more and more intimate. His tongue finds yours, and Namjoon swallows the sound you make.

He breaks the kiss for a moment, you both take in a deep breath. It’s like everything around you becomes blurred, with only the two of you visible.

He runs his hands through your hair, looking into your eyes. He draws closer again, resting his forehead against yours.

He’s quiet, still for a moment, simply watching you in the dark. Your fingers tap softly against his chest, confusion and worry sit on the furrow of your brow.

“What wrong?”

Namjoon sighs, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth, your eyes each and then your forehead where he lingers. “It’s nothing... it’s just...”

“I want you to understand...” He continues softly after a breath, “My life can be overwhelming, it’s hard even for me some days. There’s times when I feel like I’ve worked hard only to get myself trapped in a bottle. Dangling above the view of millions who think I should live my life their way.

It isn’t easy. There’s always a risk that maybe one of us would slip up or something else. Privacy is something hard won and I’d hate for anything to happen that puts you in a position that you’ll regret.”

Namjoon lays his worries bare like cards going all in, focusing on the texture of your hair between his fingers. He allows you a moment to absorb his words, to really think.

The life of an idol isn’t for everyone; so many have cracked under the pressure of it. The life of an idol’s partner does not come any easier. Your relationship would be kept buried like a dirty secret to feed into the delusions of a certain variety of ‘fans’, all for the safety of the people involved.

If by some miracle, or a stroke of good luck, you choose to continue onward despite the challenges it would bring, Namjoon would be eternally grateful and he would spend his days making sure you never regret that choice.

“Joon...” Your hand meets his wrist, curling at his pulse. “I’ve known from the beginning what it would be like. You’ve got fans all over the world who adore you, and who would do just about anything to get close to you. It’s not easy to live a life like that, to be constantly watched and judged.

“But I knew that going in,” you continue. “I may not have expected to fall in love with you, but now that it’s happened, nothing else matters. I know what it’s like to have eyes always on you, and I’m willing to do anything to make it work.”

“You...you love me?” Namjoon's mind feels as though it blanked, though somewhere in the back among the cogs grinding to a halt your words have registered. Right now, he could only tunnel focus on that one thing.

“Oh god.” There’s a smile blooming on Namjoon’s lips as you groan an embarrassed sound, tucking your face into the crook of his neck. He laughs softly, leaning back to catch your gaze but you evade him, bringing your hands up to cover your face instead.

Namjoon briefly wonders if this is what a moon orbiting a planet feels like. Ganymede does not question the gravity of Jupiter. It simply orbits the planet, accepting its fate. And Namjoon accepts his fate of being drawn to you. He is not swept up by your presence, but rather firmly grounded, and held in place. His feelings for you are as natural as the pull of gravity, as certain as the rotation of the Earth.

In your presence, everything shifts, and nothing else becomes important. Your gravity becomes his universe, and he is perfectly content to reside in it.

“I love you too.”

You peek at him through your fingers, and Namjoon doesn’t let the moment pass, prying your hands gently away from your face. He leans closer and presses a kiss to your lips, there’s nothing gentle about it this time – all teeth and tongue and quiet sounds that Namjoon swallows. He eases you onto your back with a gentle hand, slotting himself between your legs.

He trails his kisses down your neck, catching the skin with his teeth and sucking to leave his mark. He trails his hand down the length of your thigh, over the band of your underwear and under the soft cotton tee-shirt. He brushes his fingers along the curve of your hip, feeling the warmth of your skin and the way you tremble beneath his touch. He travels further still, up your ribcage to your breasts, feeling the soft curves and the way your nipples harden beneath his caress.

He feels the goosebumps that erupted at his touch, feels the hitch of your breath in your chest. Namjoon sucks a mark against your collarbone, he shifts so that he’s at your side, giving his hand more room.

He traces feather light touches along the expanse of your stomach and you giggle into his kiss. His fingers glide just above the waistband of your underwear, teasing until you whine his name.

Namjoon chuckles as he pulls away, “Can I?”

Words seem like more than you can manage and you nod. Namjoon gives a fleeting kiss, as his fingers dip lower, pushing aside your underwear to find your heat. The arousal clinging to your panties cools rapidly against the back of his hand, and Namjoon dips a finger into the warmth of you.

He keeps his eyes on your face as he does, watching the way your eyebrows furrow and your bottom lip gets caught between your teeth. He nudges his nose against your cheek and runs his tongue along the shell of your ear. He’s barely touching you, keeping his fingers just shy of where he knows you want them the most.

It’s a while of teasing you this way, and Namjoon likes the way frustration bleeds into your soft, breathless moans when he circles your clit with his slick fingers and pulls away. He gives your neck and chest most of his attention, with gentle squeezes and his tongue tracing abstract patterns, drawing your nipples into his mouth with soft tugs of his teeth.

When the next whine of his name comes with teary eyes, Namjoon takes pity on you. The wet, tightness of you makes him groan and he pulls a hissing breath through his teeth, pressing his erection against your hip where he ruts in sync with the movement of his fingers.

He curls them upward, your back bows and he presses the heel of his palm against your clit. He kisses your cheek when your fingers wrap around his wrist, “I got you, baby.”

You gasp, your pleasure mounting until you can’t take it anymore. You writhe beneath his touch as you reach the peak of pleasure, calling out his name as you fall over the edge.

Namjoon gives you a moment to breathe, running his hand along your thighs and tummy. He takes your face in his hands once your breaths evened out, pressing his forehead to yours and breathing in your scent. His lips find yours in a gentle, yet passionate kiss that leaves you both breathless.

“Good?”

“Fuck – yeah.” Your fingers tug at his hair and Namjoon groans.

“Want me to go on?” He asks softly, pressing a kiss to your temple and then, almost jumps right out of his skin when your other hand squeezes at his cock in his sweats. He lets out a chuckle that gets muddled by a moan that rumbles in his chest. “Baby.”

Namjoon sees the smile that curls in your lips, the innocent way you blink at him. You hum softly when he mouths at your jaw, a shudder runs through him and he can’t stop himself chasing the friction with a buck of his hips.

“You wan’it?” Namjoon’s drunk on you and you’ve barely done anything. You’re tugging at the drawstring of his sweatpants, and he groans, letting his forehead rest against your chest when your hand wraps around his cock and tugs upward. “Ah, Fuck.”

He feels your hand against his chest and lies back when you push gently. He watches as you tug his tee-shirt and your underwear off, and he quickly follows to take his sweats off.

He slides his hands up your thighs when you settle on his. A breath catches in his throat when you wrap both hands around the width of his cock. His fingers gripping where your thighs meet your hips, and he watches with heavy lidded eyes as you lean forward slightly and spit. The dollop of saliva lands deftly on the head of his cock and Namjoon’s eyes roll back as you focus there.

You’re twisting your wrists, the slick sound of it and Namjoon’s harsh breaths are the only sounds in the quiet room. When he feels his lower stomach clench he grabs your wrist and still your movement.

“Fuck.” He squeezes his eyes shut and tries to think of literally anything else, “You’ll make me cum if you keep doing that.”

Your giggle rings like a bell and Namjoon smiles at the sound. Sitting up he pulls you forward, trapping his throbbing cock between his stomach and the heat of your cunt. He groans at how wet you are, blunt teeth nipping at your jaw. “Wanna ride it?” He breathes, “Hm? Wanna fuck me?”

He feels your nod, feels the shuddering breath you release against his hair. “Words, Princess.”

“Yeah, wanna fuck you.”

Namjoon helps you balance, guiding his cock – slick with your juices – to your entrance. He sucks on your tongue as you come down slowly, and Namjoon swears he’s seeing the pearly gates behind his tightly shut eyes when your walls flutter.

He lies back, giving you a moment and short, shallow thrusts. You look so beautiful above him, your hair a rumpled mess, throat and chest covered in bruises of his own making. He gives a single thrust, a hand sliding up your sweat slicked skin to palm at your breast, his other hand landing a harsh slap against your ass.

You squeak out a moan and Namjoon chuckles, doing it again, “C’mon, baby girl. Fuck me.”

Your hands press against his tummy, hips rising slowly and coming back down. He lets you set the pace, content to lie back and take what you give. He could feel your arousal dripping down his shaft, and Namjoon tightens his grip on your hips.

He plants his feet flat on the bed, meeting you halfway with his thrusts. He pulls you down with a hand behind your neck, when your chest meets his he wraps his other arm around your waist and sets a brutal pace.

“Feels so fucking good.” Namjoon groans, “Pussy’s so good—fuck.”

You’re moaning right in his ear, whining, breathless sounds that makes him fuck you harder. Without warning, your thighs squeeze at his sides and you tremble above him. Your orgasm pools in his groin in a gush of warmth, your moans pitching an octave with his name and Namjoon swears, fucking you through it.

“That’s it, baby. Good girl.” Namjoon groans, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. He slows his thrusts and gently eases you off him, he settles behind you when you’re on your stomach, lifting your hips to meet his.

Your moans are muffled by the sheets when he thrusts forward. He holds you steady with a hand gripping your waist and the other on the back of your neck. He focuses his thrusts on the spot that makes your walls tighten and drip.

He looks down to watch his cock disappear inside you, and the way your ass jiggles from the force of his thrusts. “Fuc—M’gonna cum. Where you want it?”

You meet his thrusts halfway, “Inside.”

“You sure?” Namjoon pants, slowing down just a bit.

“Yeah—wanna feel you. Please, daddy.”

Lightning shoots down his spine, curses in his mother tongue trapped behind his teeth as he spills his release inside you. He holds you pressed against him, balls deep, moaning at every throb of his cock.

He pulls you closer when he lays down, peppering kisses all over your face and wherever he could reach. When you’ve both caught your breaths, you finally speak, chin propped on your hand on his chest.

“Daddy, huh? That does it for you?” You’re giggling and Namjoon throws an arm over his eyes, groaning.

“Shut up.” He can’t help his smile, “You’re the one who said it, so I think it’s the other way around actually.”

“We’re both gonna lose if we go there.”

A half hour later, after the sheets in the guest bedroom were stripped and you and him are settled for the night in his room, Namjoon wouldn’t change a thing if he had the power to. He’d go into that cafe and sit at your table every time.

Ganymede has no choice in the matter, he would orbit Jupiter as long as she allows it.

Tagging (Bold means i couldn't tag ):) : @xpeachesncream @luaspersona @bangtansmauyeondan @taestefully-in-luv @eoieopda @euphoricfilter @mssukeyna @allhobbitstoisengard @dontstoptime @eren-fall @blog-name-idk @idkreallys-blog @thvunaise @menialthoughts

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tiedyeflannels · 3 months

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Never Did, Now I do

Namjoon x reader

Also known as: The five times you blew a kiss to Namjoon and the one time he finally blew one back.

Word count: 3.2k

Masterlist

A/N: Hi!!! I'm here with a Namjoon fic!!! I got inspired to write this one after watching an edit of Namjoon lives so... Anyway, the text that's "italicized" and in quotations, is dialog in English. Hopefully that makes sense... I hope you enjoy!!

one. - The earliest memory I have of him was when we were 6.

It was a random afternoon when my parents decided to take me to the park. I was happily playing by myself when someone bumped into me.

“Hey, watch out!” I turned to look at a boy with an apologetic smile that showed his dimples.

He bowed slightly.

“Sorry! I just wanted to know if you wanted to play together because I saw that you were playing alone,” he wondered, scratching the back of his neck.

“What if I was happy playing alone?”

He nervously looked to the sides.

“Well, sorry for bothering you then,” he said as turned like he was about to run away before I grabbed his arm.

“Hey, I was just kidding! I would love to play with you, um…” I trailed off.

He perked up, “Oh, it’s Namjoon.”

I held out my hand for him to take. “My name’s Y/n! Nice to meet you,” I said, shaking his hand.

We must've been playing for quite a bit of time before our parents called to each of us, saying that it was time to leave. We both groaned, but promised that we would play again when we saw each other. My parents called me again and I started to jog over to them before stopping and blowing a kiss to him. Something I saw my parents do a million times to say ‘bye’.

“See you later, Namjoon!”

two. - I remembered doing it again when we were 13.

“Aren’t you nervous,” I asked as we entered the underground cafe where the rap circle was bound to take place after checking in.

He shook his head as he marveled at the people gathered in front of the stage and the stage itself.

“Nope, why would I be,” he asked looking at me. I gave him an ‘are you serious right now’ face.

“Um, because… I don't know… You’re going to perform in front of people who have been doing this way longer.”

He chuckled, “The way I see it, I’m here to learn, not teach. Those who teach should be the ones that are nervous.”

He smiled brightly, showing off his dimples. I nodded as I took a deep breath.

“Are you nervous for me?”

I shook my head, “No, there’s just a lot of people.”

“I think you are,” he teased as I looked away.

He placed hand on my shoulder, garnering my attention.

“Y/n/n, there’s no reason for you to be nervous. I’ll be just fine. I have you here to support me and my amazing mind.”

I rolled my eyes, smiling. “Okay,” I nodded.

Moments later, someone on the loud speaker announced, “Coming up, Runch Randa!”

I started clapping with the crowd and looked over to Namjoon, who wasn’t clapping, but smiling and that’s when it hit me.

“Wait, that’s your stage name?”

He nodded.

“Are you gonna keep it when you’re older?”

“Is it bad,” He questioned.

“No,” I shook my head as he chuckled.

“Don’t worry, I’ll come up with something better later, but I’ll keep using this one for now. Plus, I’m not sure I’ll like doing this,” he said, gesturing to the stage.

I watched the person currently performing on stage.

“I’m sure you won’t get enough,” I smiled.

As they finished up their song, we walked over to the stage.

“Thank you for being here.”

I smiled.

“Of course! I wouldn’t miss this for the world! You’re gonna kill it, Mr. Randa,” I cheered.

He smiled before he took the stage. He took the mic and then looked over to me. I blew him a kiss for good luck before he looked forward with determination and started his song.

three. - Another time when we were 19 and he was about to debut on the big stage with BTS.

“I’ve gotta visit more often,” I said, walking into the green room.

“Y/n!” The guys called out as Namjoon turned away from the wall to look at me.

“Happy debut day, you guys! I’m proud of you all,” I said as I walked around and gave them all a hug.

I saved the best for last and stood in front of Namjoon.

“Congrats on debuting, Joonie! I got you something,” I said, holding up the gift bag with black tissue paper sticking out.

He took the bag and looked at me with a confused face.

“It’s nothing too big! I just wanted to get you something,” I said as he placed it on a nearby table and started to open it.

He pulled out a leather bound notebook with a leather strap wrapped around it to keep it closed.

“Y/n/n…” he trailed as he looked at me. I smiled at his reaction.

“If you open it, there’s something written on the inside of the cover,” I pointed out.

He did as instructed, pulling the strap apart and opening the book.

He read aloud, “‘To: Namjoon, Wherever we are, no matter how far apart, I will always be rooting for you! - Y/n’.”

I looked at him expectedly, “Do you like it?”

He quickly pulled me into a hug.

“I absolutely love it, thank you,” he whispered, nuzzling into my neck.

We pulled apart after a moment and I watched as he put the notebook back in the bag and set it by his things before walking back to me.

“BTS, you’re on in five minutes,” one of the stage managers called.

All the boys got up, ready to perform.

“We gotta go, but I’ll see you later,” he said and I nodded as he started to walk over to the other members.

Right before he was going to walk out, “Namjoon!”

He looked back and I blew him a small kiss.

“Good luck out there! I’ll be watching from the sides.”

He smiled and nodded before leaving with the others for their debut.

four. - Again when we were 22 and they were leaving for their Wings world tour.

“I’m not late, am I,” I asked running up to the group that was about to leave for their Wings tour.

Some of them were giving the managers their bags, so they could put them in the trunks and the others turned to look at me.

“What’s that,” Taehyung asked, pointing to the three bags I was carrying.

“Oh right! I brought you guys some food because I wasn’t sure if you’ve eaten since it’s really early,” I said, handing a bag to Tae, Yoongi, and Jin as the rest gathered around.

They all said their ‘thank you’s as they started to dig through the bag, taking out some of the food I packed for them.

I smiled, “Of course! I wanted to see you guys off, but I can’t do it at the airport so I had Namjoon text me when you would leave for the airport.”

I looked at him and he nodded.

“Aww, that’s sweet,” Hobi exclaimed as he brought me into a hug which led the others to hug us effectively making a group hug.

“Take care of each other and have a safe trip! I’ll see you at your last concerts,” I said, pulling away from the group.

The managers let them know that they would have to leave soon and that they should get ready to leave.

We all said our ‘bye’s before they started to get into one of the cars.

That left me with…

“Y/n,” Namjoon said, grabbing my attention as I turned to look at him.

I hummed in response.

“Thanks for coming to see us off.”

“Yeah, I wouldn’t miss this for the world… Though, it’s super early,” I said through a yawn.

He smiled.

“Plus, who’s gonna remind you to make sure to not lose your passport.”

He laughed, “That was one time!”

“Doesn’t matter! Knowing you, you would probably lose it again so make sure to give it to Yoongi or Jin,” I teased as a smile grew on my face.

“I’m gonna miss you,” he said, pulling me into a hug.

“I know, but I’ll see you when you come back.”

I pulled back, holding both of his hands and looked at him.

“Look at you, going on your first long-term tour! I’m so incredibly proud of you, Joonie,” I smiled.

He pulled me back into the hug, holding tightly. “I’m really gonna miss you, Y/n/n,” he whispered.

I tightened my hold on him, too, “I’m really gonna miss you too, Joon.”

We stayed like this for a bit before Jin yelled, “Namjoon, the managers said we have to get going soon!”

He quietly groaned in frustration and I laughed as I pulled away because I know that he rolled his eyes.

“Please be safe and stay healthy. If you ever need anything, I’ll always pick up, okay?”

He nodded.

I nodded too before sighing, “You should get going.”

He nodded once more before he started walking toward the cars with the other members. He was about to get in when he looked back at me. He waved to me and I smiled as I blew him a kiss and waved before he got in the car and closed the door.

five. - The last time was when we were 25 and I had to leave for a while.

“Are you sure that you’re going to be okay,” Namjoon asked, taking the last bag out of the trunk and placing it on the ground.

I smiled at his concern.

“I’ll be okay, Namjoon.”

“I’m just making sure.”

“Trust me, I’m not one to lose my passport unlike some people,” I teased.

“You’re never gonna let that go, are you,” he rolled his eyes, but smiled nonetheless.

“Nope,” I shook my head and he sighed, accepting his fate.

He walked up to me, rolling the suitcase over and handing it to me. I placed my bag strap over the handle and let it rest on the top of my suitcase.

“Remind me again, how long are you going to be gone,” he asked.

I rested my hands on the handle of the suitcase as I thought, “Hmm… two, three years maybe.”

He groaned, “That’s so long…”

I chuckled, “It’s not that long. Three years can pass in the blink of an eye.”

He nodded and sighed lightly, “I know, but I’m gonna miss having you around all the time.”

I pushed my suitcase to the side and walked up to Namjoon, pulling him into a hug which he immediately returned.

“I’ll be back before you know it. I promise,” I whispered, nuzzling my face into his neck.

We stayed like this for a few more moments, then I gave him one last squeeze before pulling away from him and taking out my phone to check the time.

“I should get going before I miss my flight,” I said as I grabbed hold of my suitcase.

“Would that be such a bad thing?”

I smiled sadly at his question. It wouldn’t be a bad thing to stay here, with him, but my job had offered me an opportunity that I couldn’t pass up so I agreed with the clause that it wouldn’t be a permanent relocation.

I started to back up, so I could put some distance between us.

“I’ll text you when I land, okay?”

“Okay,” he nodded.

With that, I turned and started to walk away. I was about to go through the doors to the airport, but stopped and turned to face Namjoon before blowing him a kiss and waving goodbye.

He smiled as I turned to leave him for a while with a promise that I’ll return soon.

It had been two and a half years since I moved to the US.

Namjoon and I haven’t kept in contact as much as I thought we would. When I first moved, we always made it a point to text each other a couple of times a week, but we both started to get really busy so we couldn’t talk as much.

Now here we are, barely talking to each other unless it’s a holiday or birthday. Though, I always made sure to keep up with what he was up to and that meant watching his lives.

I saw the notification when I opened my phone once I put my stuff down after I got back from work. I tapped it to open it up as I placed it on the kitchen island and propped it against the closest object.

I went to the fridge to grab the leftover take-out from the other day and proceeded to put it in the microwave to heat it up. At the same time as me starting the microwave, the live finally loaded and I could hear Namjoon talking.

I watched him just talk for a bit before the microwave beeped, signaling that the food was done heating up so I walked over and took it out, then went to get a fork out of the drawer before going back to the island so I could start eating.

After a while, I saw a specific comment: Oppa, why do you blow kisses at the end of your lives?

He must’ve seen it too because he answered, “Because you guys ask.”

I smiled and he continued, “And because someone very close to me did it all the time for me, but I never did it for them. I haven’t seen them in a while and I kind of regret not doing it back all those years, so now I do it for you.”

After a bit, he started to say ‘bye’ to Army before blowing a kiss and turning off the live. I smiled sadly as I pressed the home button and turned off my phone, thinking about what he said earlier.

I sighed when I got up and put my dishes in the sink, ready to go to bed, hoping that I would be done with my job in America soon, so that I could go back home…

~ Two months later ~

“Congrats, Y/n!”

I looked up from my computer to see Lyn standing over my desk, grinning like a maniac.

“What do you mean, Lyn,” I questioned, tilting my head to the side.

“Well, you know how you always say that you want to finish up here so you can go home? Now you can!”

I shot up from my seat once those words left her mouth.

I looked at her in disbelief, “What, really?!”

She nodded happily, “Yep! Everything was finalized earlier today and they just sent out an email stating that everyone from the Korea branch is good to move back starting next week.”

I smiled brightly at the news. I finally got to go back home, where my family and friends were, where Namjoon was.

one. - When we were 28 and he finally blew one back to me.

I was walking with a staff member through the halls of the concert venue that Namjoon was set to perform within the hour. It took a few minutes before we arrived at the “Artist Room”.

The door was open, seeing that there was staff frequently going in and out of it so I peaked my head in.

He was sitting on the couch, hunched over, and writing in a journal with a frustrated expression on his face. I quietly chuckled when he shook his head and scribbled over what he just wrote before sighing.

My gaze fell to the journal and after a few moments, I realized that it was the journal that I gave him all those years ago. I remembered that he once told me that he explicitly uses it to write lyrics, which makes sense watching him right now.

“Do you always write lyrics before a performance,” I questioned.

His head shot up to look at me and he dropped his pen, whatever he was writing was forgotten. I smiled as I walked further into the room, stopping a few feet in front of the coffee table as he stood up.

He quickly rounded the table, scooping me into a hug and spinning us around. I laughed at his excitement before he stopped and set me down.

He backed up and looked at me with a small smile and surprise in his eyes. “What are you doing here?!”

“Well, I couldn’t miss my best friend’s first solo concert, now can I?”

He pulled me back into a hug before he said, "I'm sorry."

“For what,” I chuckled confusedly.

“For not trying harder to keep contact with you.”

I hugged a little tighter, “It’s not your fault that we were both super busy. Plus, our timezones weren’t exactly the nicest.”

He pulled back, “Wait- ‘weren’t’? Does this mean…”

I happily nodded.

“Yep, I was cleared to move back last week so some of my things are still on they’re way, but I’m back for good!”

A giant smile made its way onto his face, showing his dimples as I told him the news.

We just stood there, looking at each other until a staff member tapped me on my shoulder and told me that I should head out soon for the performance.

I nodded and sighed, “Well, I should probably get going. I got front row tickets, so I’ll see you after your performance.”

I started to back away from him, but grabbed my hand right before I was about to leave. I looked at him with curiosity.

“Will you go out with me,” he blurted out.

My eyes widened in surprise at the question, “What?”

“You leaving for so long made me realize how much I like having you by my side. It was hard not being able to call you just to talk about random things or accompanying you to get ice cream at 2 a.m. because you were craving it, but didn’t want to go alone. It broke my heart when I let you go, but I don’t want to make that mistake again so… will you go out with me?”

I looked at him and saw nervousness overtake his face, but there was still hope in his eyes.

I couldn’t say that I didn’t feel the same way because I did. I couldn’t imagine not having Namjoon in my life and the time that we spent apart made me realize that I wanted to be with him, too.

So after a few seconds of deciding I smiled and nodded, “I would love to.”

He smiled and was going to say something, but I held up a finger in front of him to stop him.

“BUT right now you have a performance, so we’ll talk about this afterward, okay,” I raised my eyebrows.

He nodded. “Okay, I’ll see you after the show,” he said as he let go of my hand.

I backed up a bit, ready to take my leave before a thought popped in my head.

“Oh right!” I blew him a kiss, “Good luck out there, Joonie!”

With that I turned around and almost through the door, until Namjoon called my name.

I looked back at him and he finally blew a kiss back.

#bts fic #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts #bangtan #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #namjoon x y/n #knj x reader #kim namjoon #kim namjoon fanfic #namjoon fluff

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here4kpopfics · 3 months

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Pieces of Greece | KNJ & KSJ

Pairing: Kim Seokjin x Kim Namjoon x reader Genre: smut, a little fluff, a whole lot of bickering AU: established relationship, fwb to lovers Wordcount: 17,100 on the dot Summary: After the events during Christmas in the Swiss mountains, your boyfriend Namjoon wants to go to Greece for his birthday. And, of course, another surprise in the form of Kim Seokjin. Warnings: There's. So. Much. Smut. Plane sex, voyeurism, exhibitionism, Namjoon loves to watch but this time he gets to participate. ice play, threesomes the entire time. DVP fun time, creampie, oral in every which way, unprotected sex, it goes on. mxm moments that make my heart happy. IT'S SMUT WITH SOME PLOT OKAY. Rating: M / 18+ AN: Sooooooooooooooo....Many many many many months ago, someone asked if there'd ever be a sequel. i joked there would be a summer vacation. then summer happened and nothing was written. Then I met my favorite @echotoyou and well, they said they loved Swiss Miss and I mentioned the thought of a sequel and they got excited and then Namjoon's birthday was coming up and i thought fuck it and THEY ASKED FOR MOST OF THE SMUT IN THIS OKAY. so this is for my baby starcandy. i love you so much, i hope you enjoy. Thank you to my lovely @theharrowing for beta-reading and @classicscreations for the banner/divider. Also tagging @simp47koreancrackheads for reasons. Enjoy!!! 💜Masterlist | AskBox | AO3

When Namjoon brought up the idea of an end of summer vacation for his birthday, you were hesitant at first. Last time you let him plan a vacation, he dragged you to the Swiss mountains and it was miserable.

Well…not all of it was miserable.

Seokjin being your Christmas present made up for the freezing mountain getaway.

It’s been almost nine months since then. Seokjin’s been away filming and being a gorgeous model, but you both still kept in contact. The three of you agreed it’d be okay to send photos of you in lingerie sets, Namjoon taking it a step further to send videos of you riding his cock, begging to come. Seokjin would send videos back, specifically to you, of his hand stroking his cock until he was a moaning mess, coming all over himself.

The two of you met up with him a few times since Christmas. Once in February, once in April, and the last time being very briefly in July when Namjoon watched on as Seokjin fucked you so ridiculously that you squirted all over the hotel bed while he erupted inside of you.

As far as you were concerned, your relationship with Namjoon was technically still monogamous. At least, until Seokjin became involved and suddenly he was the added friend with benefits for you. Namjoon and Seokjin never got involved with one another; your boyfriend only ever watching on as his best friend fucked you sensless, and fucking you right after so your last orgasm was from the man you loved.

You understood Namjoon loved to watch. Every time you’d look over at him slowly rubbing his hard cock, either with his hand coated in your arousal or with your underwear, his eyes would be watching the faces you’d make in pleasure or the way Seokjin’s cock pounded into you. But there was always a moment where it felt like he wanted to be involved. You’ve tried to ask, but could never find a way to bring it up.

So you agreed to the trip, hoping you’d get the chance to ask at some point.

“Joon, what’d the attendant say?” Your boyfriend makes his way back to where you’re sitting in the terminal, wearing a long summer dress with thin straps. Your flight’s been delayed an hour at this point, and you’re feeling just a tad bit suffocated in this airport that conveniently has the air conditioning down for maintenance.

“Good news and bad news.” He sighs, plopping down in the seat next to you, “which do you want first?”

“Always start with the bad.”

“Bad news is it’s another ‘forty-five minutes at least’ until we can board.” He pauses for your groan of frustration, fanning yourself with the book cover of some nonsense romance book you found in the gift shop.

“And the good?”

“The good,” he smiles, handing you the boarding passes, “there aren’t a lot of people on our flight anyway, and the girl thought I was cute so we got upgraded to first class for free.”

Your eyes barely glance at the passes with the upgraded seat locations on them, instead finding their way to the female attendant that had her eyes on your boyfriend. Namjoon might not mind sharing you with another man, but you can’t say the same about you sharing Namjoon with another woman.

“Y/n. Don’t give her that look.”

“I’m not giving her a look.”

“Yes you are. You’re giving her that look at my man one more time and I’ll end your happiness look.”

“No I’m no— wait. I have a look like that?” You look at Namjoon with wide eyes, a grin slowly creeping across your face. “That’s so cool. Is it easily readable? Do I have others?”

The girl is long forgotten about as you see Namjoon’s beautiful dimples appear with his smile as he leans closer to whisper in your ear.

“Yeah. You make some other ones. Like when you’re about to come all over me. When I’ve fucked you so hard that you’re about to black out. The face you make when you realize you’ve taken every inch of me is my favorite, though.”

Your face flushes in heat as you sit completely still, eyes staring straight ahead. You hear him chuckle next to you before kissing your temple, leaning back in his seat with an arm resting against the back of yours. The goosebumps on your skin and the back of your neck raise with every pass his fingers make across your shoulder and back. You know it’s for comfort, but it feels like the best kind of torture.

Shockingly, the wait time is far less than forty-five minutes before you’re one of the first groups to board, letting Namjoon hand over the boarding passes to the attendant. She gives him a big smile and flirty eyes and you have to fight yourself to not give her whatever look Namjoon was talking about. You’re about to spend ten hours on a plane, two weeks in Greece, and potentially the rest of your life with this man. She will be left behind at this terminal; she is no threat.

If anything, she’s a gift to this world. The first class seats are amazing in comparison to the main cabin seats Namjoon originally booked. You immediately claim the cubby-like seat next to the window, Namjoon sitting in the cubicle parallel to yours. The flight attendant left you both pillows, blankets, a bottle of what deemed fancy water and snacks already laid out for each of you.

“Is this what Jin experiences with being famous? Because if so, one of us needs to get on it, stat, Joon. Probably you. Make an onlyfans.” You giggle when he ignores you, his face taking a turn at going flush with heat.

You don’t tease further, getting comfortable in your little bed for the next ten hours. You poke the buttons to make the bed come out from under your feet before returning it to a sitting position and pulling the partition down between you and your boyfriend’s seats.

“Hi.” You smile at him while he sorts out both of your bags, pulling out your phone charger and handing it to you. “Thank you, Joonie.” You lean across the divider to give him a kiss, laughing when you try to pull back, only to have a giant hand cradle the back of your neck, tugging you back against his lips.

“I love you, baby.” He whispers, finally pulling away when the surge of other passengers begin to board the plane. You quickly say it back, full love-sick grin on display for him.

God, you really do love him.

Halfway through the flight, you’re being nudged awake, pulled from an amazing dream or memory - you can’t tell anymore - of you and Namjoon. Your headphones are slowly pulled off your head as you groggily turn over to find Namjoon leaning through the divider with a smirk.

“What?” You grumble, wiping your eyes.

“You were moaning my name.”

“What?” You were moaning in your dream, but surely not in real life? On a plane?

“Bathroom in five minutes.” Is all he says before sliding the divider back up. All you hear is quiet rustling until you see his top half making its way to the first class bathrooms.

He can’t be serious.

He can’t.

While you love the control Namjoon has over you, and you both share an openness to exploring new kinks and sexual experiences, this wasn’t on either of your lists.

You watch the time on your phone move slowly, one minute down.

You shouldn’t do this.

Two minutes down.

You’ll get caught.

Three minutes.

You’ll be banned from flying. And how will you get back home if so? A ship of some sort?

Four.

But he’s waiting for you. Possibly hard and you’re soaked from your dream.

Five.

You tuck your phone under your pillow, slowly crawling out of your cubicle and tiptoeing your way to the front. Luckily first class only has about eight seats and everyone seems to be sound asleep as you reach the bathroom door, giving one small secret knock. The door unlocks and you creep it open, sneaking your way in.

“Holy fuck, it’s huge.” You whisper, eyes scanning the bigger than normal airplane bathroom. There’s enough space to have a moderately small sized counter and an actual sink. And enough space for your boyfriend to stand up tall without banging his head on the ceiling.

“I feel like I should make a joke there, but we have limited time. Turn and bend. Now.” He quietly growls. It’s only then you notice his hardened length in his hand, slowly being pumped as he waits for you to follow instructions.

“Sir, yes sir.” You quip, ignoring his glare as you turn around and brace yourself against the counter. He parts your legs with his feet, a hand grabbing your waist when you momentarily lose balance.

“Remember. Not a sound, okay?” He whispers against your ear, tongue tracing down your neck. You quickly nod, skin shivering as he pulls the hem of your dress up, bringing the fabric to the front and giving it to you to hold against your stomach. Your underwear is dropped past your knees and you quickly step one foot out so you can freely move.

He wastes no time smacking your ass once, grabbing at the meaty flesh right after. You fight back the yelp, covering your mouth as you watch his intense gaze through the mirror. His eyes are glued to your ass while he massages it, watching in awe as your arousal pools at your entrance.

“Fuck, I love how ready you are for me all the time, baby.” He groans, lining your hips up with his, gliding his cock along your folds. You bite the inside of your cheek to not make a noise.

“Stop that.” The hand on your hip slides up and around to your neck, pulling you up to his chest. “Don’t bite the inside of your cheek, it’ll get infected.”

“Then don’t tease me.” You rasp, voice straining when his grip tightens around your neck.

“If you insist.” He gives one bite to your neck before letting you go and bending you forward again. He gives no warning as he realigns himself, pushing past your entrance in one go.

You let out a silent scream, covering your mouth again with your free hand as you practically hug the sink. There’s no hesitation when he starts pounding into you, both of you a mess of silent moans.

“Come back up here.” He groans, pulling you back up by your arms. “I think it’s me that has to be careful about sounds, baby. How are you always so fucking tight?”

“Feels so good.” You gasp, fighting the moan building in your throat when he kisses your neck.

He’s about to respond when there’s a small amount of turbulence, causing him to thrust even deeper into you. One of your hands flies to your mouth, followed quickly by him biting your neck.

Namjoon removes your hand from your mouth, placing his there instead, snaking his fingers past your lips and making you suck. “Get yourself off on my cock, baby. We don’t have time.” You whine, your fingers quickly finding your clit and rubbing.

Another little bout of turbulence and his cock being buried even deeper inside of you makes you fight against the urge to scream around his fingers, walls clenching as you come around his cock. He comes seconds later, deep inside, holding you close while his lips leave feather kisses across your skin.

You’re both silent after, his cock remaining tucked deep within your walls as his hands rub up and down your sides realizing you have another five hours before landing. The kiss he places on your shoulder tells you he’s having the same thought.

“Need help?” He asks in a hushed whisper. You shake your head, letting him pull out. It’s almost awkward having to move around one another to clean up, but Namjoon makes sure to give you his dimpled smile and a quick kiss every passing until he’s ready to go back, leaving you to finish up in peace.

The rest of the flight was normal. Half the time you were asleep, the other half playing phone games with Namjoon or listening to music or watching a movie while he was reading.

When you landed, Namjoon was quick to grab your carry on and usher you off the plane, almost running to baggage claim.

“Jooooooon, our bags aren’t going to magically appear the second we get to baggage claim. They have to unload the plane first.”

“I know, I know. But…I have a surprise for you.” Namjoon grins, pulling you past baggage claim to where people are waiting for their loved ones to emerge.

And that’s when you swear your heart stops for a moment.

Kim Seokjin.

In Greece.

“Jin?!” You accidentally shout. In hindsight, you’ll understand why Namjoon grabbed your bags and didn’t let you carry anything. You would’ve dropped it all or thrown it across the building as you ran up to your friend and jumped into his awaiting embrace.

“Oh my god, you’re here?! Why are you here?” you start rambling off nonsense, speaking into his neck as he hugs you, holding you in the air with his arms holding just below your ass. “How have you been? How was the movi–”

“Princess, slow down!” He laughs, finally placing you back on your feet. Your hands rest on his forearms, his on your elbows as you finally look at him.

He’s still beautiful. His hair is still the same, if not a little bit longer. You told him he was in his long fluffy era while he’s taking a break from filming last time you saw him. It was fun tugging on it when his mouth was exploring your body. His eyes are a mixture of exhaustion, happiness, and a hint of mischief. He somehow looks bigger, like he’s been working out a lot more. It’s only been two months since you’ve seen him, but it feels like a lot longer. There’s a small ache in your heart when you look up at him, and you’re not even sure when you started crying until his hands cradle your face, thumbs wiping away your tears.

“Why is my beautiful princess crying, hmm? Can’t stand my beauty?”

You scoff out a sob, lightly smacking him. The ache in your heart turns into a searing jolt at my beautiful princess.

“Shut up, you’re hideous.”

“Tell that to Vogue.”

“Will do. I’ll write a book about it.”

“Oh, can I have the first copy?”

“Of course. I’ll sign it and everything.”

“Oh my god, what an honor.”

“I’ve missed you, Seokjin.”

“I’ve missed you too, y/n.”

He pulls you into another hug, tightening his arms around you when you let out a soft squeak.

“Okay, you two, let’s get this vacation underway.” Your boyfriend’s voice drags you out of the hug you’ve missed so much, stepping away from Seokjin to let the two men hug and greet one another while you mind the bags Namjoon must’ve grabbed while you were busy.

“You’re not gonna run into my arms? Only her?” Seokjin playfully pouts at your boyfriend, who rolls his eyes in response, grabbing your hand in his.

“Nah, that’s her thing.”

“What’s your thing then?” you ask, tilting your head to the side with a smirk.

“Later.”

He doesn’t look at you, so you turn to look at Seokjin instead, who has an eyebrow raised at you. You shrug in response, giving him a look that says I’m just as confused and walk out with your boyfriend and best friend.

“So, welcome to Athens.” Seokjin starts and he and Namjoon load the bags into the back of the small car, “I’ll be your driver today and the rest of the time we’re here until we get to–”

“Don’t say it, hyung.” Namjoon quickly interjects as you get in the passenger seat.

“Don’t say what?” You turn to look at your boyfriend sitting behind the driver’s seat.

“You haven’t told her any of the plans?” Seokjin looks in the rear view mirror in astonishment.

“Nope. And it stays that way.”

“Boo.”

“Lame.”

“It’s a surprise.”

“Joon, it’s your birthday. Why am I the one being surprised?”

He doesn’t say anything more, giving Seokjin a knowing smile that frustrates you when he raises his eyebrows and grins in response.

You pout, “I hate you both.”

“Lying is bad for your health, princess.”

Your annoyance with the two men in the car is quickly forgotten about when Seokjin starts driving through Athens. Everything is gorgeous. You get a little giddy, driving through streets you refuse to admit to going through on Google maps, or seeing structures you’ve seen in video games.

“Princess, look out my window.” Seokjin’s hand lightly grabs at your thigh to get your attention, making you swivel around to look out his window where you can just make out a building you know you’ve climbed in an Assassin’s Creed game.

“Is that the Parthenon?!” The question is rhetoric, but your excitement is overflowing. “Holy shit, we’re actually in Greece! Can we go see the Olympic park? The observatory? Oh! Joon there’s some really cool art museums there, too! Can we go there?”

“Baby, breathe.” Your boyfriend laughs, Seokjin snickering beside you, his hand still on your thigh, “we’ll go tomorrow first thing. Today we just need to get to the hotel and get dinner.”

“How are we going to do all this in two weeks? Greece is huge.” You plop back in your seat, huffing in response.

It’s only now you notice Seokjin’s hand on your thigh, following the limb up to its owner who has his eyes switching from the road to the gps, slightly confused expression on his face in concentration. You turn your head to look at Namjoon, whose eyes are on the hand on your thigh, a soft smile he tries to hide when he realizes you’re looking.

It’s confusing. It should be Namjoon’s hand there, and yet it still feels right. You love Namjoon. Absolutely head over heels in love with him.

But in comes Seokjin. The man you’ve had a crush on for years. Who you finally found out actually had feelings for you too.

You adore Seokjin. You always will. You probably could’ve fallen in love with him if he had said anything back then. But then what would’ve happened with Namjoon? Your stomach drops at the thought.

You silently thank any and every god there is that neither you or Seokjin said anything and that you met your boyfriend. And that by some weird miracle, he’s willing to share you with no one other than Seokjin.

You’re so spaced out, you barely notice when Seokjin pulls into the parking lot of where you will be staying. It’s a gorgeous private villa, an elegant white building with a mixture of modern and Greek design. You hop out of the car while the two men grab the bags.

“You got a whole house?” You’re not sure if you’re asking Namjoon or Seokjin. But they both respond at the same time.

“Yes.”

“Yup. Privacy is priceless.” Seokjin chimes in. You roll your eyes with a smile, grabbing the key from him and unlocking the door.

“There’s three king sized beds and two smaller ones. I took one of the king ones just off the kitchen.” Seokjin guides you both through the house, bags left by the front door with your shoes, “there’s a sauna, a little gym, air conditioning thank god, and a bunch more I haven’t actually explored yet.”

“With how much we’ll be exploring, we don’t really need a sauna or a gym or anything like that. Y’all really love to go overboard.” You poke both of them in their sides, Namjoon quietly grabs your wrist while Seokjin dramatically cries out as if you’ve stabbed him.

“It’s nice to have the option, princess!” His dramatics will never cease to amuse you, “Aish, now I’m going to bruise and it’s all your fault.” He rubs his side as he walks away, heading towards the kitchen.

“Let him have the weird accommodations, baby. He’s a celebrity like that.” Namjoon speaks next to your ear, wrapping his arms around your middle and hugging you.

“He’s weird.”

“And yet…” his voice trails off, his nose nudging against your throat when he kisses your shoulder.

“And yet…” you sigh, repeating the statement back. You both silently stand in the middle of the living area, Namjoon leaving kisses across your shoulder, and you staring out the window. You can see just enough of the city of Athens, it feels like a dream.

“I’m gonna shower really quick, go keep Seokjin entertained, hmm?” Your boyfriend kisses your temple, humming when you agree. He gives your ass a light smack before he walks away, grabbing the bags and taking them to a room with a bathroom.

You find your way to the kitchen where Seokjin is holding two bottles of wine in either hand, eyes flicking back and forth on each label. He looks up when you enter, eyes scanning next to you before he pouts.

“Where's Joon?”

“Shower. Told me to entertain you.” You shrug, walking with a little skip over to him. He smirks as you hop up on the island counter, placing the bottles of wine on the main counter away from you.

“And how do you plan on entertaining me, princess?” His tone teases and you shrug once again, kicking your feet out a little as you rest your palms on the counter’s edge.

“I dunno. How would you like to be entertained?” You know where this is going, you haven’t seen or felt him in over two months. You miss him. So much.

And he has clearly missed you just as much when he grabs your kicking feet, moving them to spread your legs so he can stand between them. One of his hands finds the back of your head, fingers curling in your hair, as he brings your lips to his.

It’s slow and deep, but it quickly turns heated and desperate when his head turns to the side to gain better access. Your lips part and you let out a soft moan that he quickly swallows, tongues fighting against one another as he keeps his fingers tangled in your hair and the other hand gripping your hip tight.

Your hands stay cradling his face, desperate to remember how he feels when kissing you so desperately.

“God, princess, you have no idea how much I’ve missed you.”

“Me too.” You pant between kisses.

“How often I look at those photos you sent me or the videos Joon sent of you taking his cock so deep. It fucking killed me every time.”

“Jin.” You moan when his lips trail down to your clavicle.

“I don’t need to see old buildings or art or any of that, I’d rather spend the next two weeks fucking you with Namjoon.” He curses against your skin, your dress’s straps falling off your shoulder. Your breasts are so close to spilling out, if not for a third voice causing you both to jump, you pulling the straps back up to cover yourself.

“As much as I would like to have two weeks to fuck our baby stupid, I didn’t plan this trip for that.” Namjoon gives a mischievous smirk. You know he might not have planned for that. But he did plan something. You just don’t know what.

“As long as I get to taste her at some point.” Seokjin says, smiling up at you as he speaks to your boyfriend.

“You will, but for now she should shower the plane off of her and get ready for dinner.”

You nod, sighing as you tap Seokjin’s arms to let go of you. He backs away, letting you hop down and toward your boyfriend who grabs your waist as you walk by, tugging you to stand in front of him.

“Be a good girl, and you’ll get rewarded.” He whispers, kissing your forehead. You give him a playful glare, stepping to the side and walking past him, towards the bathroom he used.

You shower quickly, changing into another summer dress, this one a mix of green and blue chiffon with beautiful off-shoulder straps that fall perfectly in place just below your shoulders. Even though it’s about five in the evening, it’s still ridiculously hot. You put barely any makeup on, fixing your hair up to stop yourself from sweating down your back.

When you return to the kitchen, Namjoon is bothering Seokjin while he’s focused on pouring the three of you some wine, making sure it’s an equal amount for each of you. What takes you by surprise, however, is Namjoon’s chin resting on his friend’s shoulder, his arms wrapped around his middle like he does with you.

Oh.

Suddenly it makes sense.

“There she is!” Seokjin’s voice pipes through the kitchen. Namjoon slowly backs away from Seokjin’s back, grabbing two glasses of wine and bringing one to you.

“You look stunning, baby.”

“Thank you. It’s too hot.” You pout, taking the wine and giving a small thanks. You join him and Seokjin back in the kitchen where he’s prepared a little plate of snacks to go with the wine.

“That’s Greece. I don’t think it’s ever cold?” Namjoon shrugs, taking a sip of his wine.

“I bet it’s like LA. Maybe cold like once or twice a year.” Seokjin pops a cracker into his mouth. You share a look with Namjoon, both of you snickering.

“Oh, look at this fancy boy, saying LA like it’s so casual for him.” You tease, taking a big sip of the wine.

“Ha ha ha. Keep being jealous.” He deadpans.

“Me? Jealous? Of your exhausting life? Absolutely not, handsome. I like being in Seoul where I sleep and eat and the only traveling I do is to various museums and art galleries for work.”

“Ah, yes. Our little curator. That’s how you stole her from the world, right Namjoon?”

“I didn’t steal her.”

“More like held me hostage.”

“In bed I assume?”

“Of course. Then I think it became some sort of Stockholm Syndrome and I fell in love.”

“A true romance right there. Can I tell that story at the wedding?”

“Please. I’ll write it all down for you.”

“Thank you, princess. I’ll memorize it and give the best performance.”

“I know you will.”

“God, I forgot what it’s like when you two get together.” Namjoon groans, leaning over the counter to bury his head in his arms. You look over at Seokjin in feigned shock.

“I feel like he’s being rude and offensive.”

“So rude. So offensive.”

“Extremely.”

“I thought you loved us!” Seokjin exclaims dramatically, hand on chest and fake tears starting to build up.

“I do!” He laughs almost manically, lifting his head up and running his fingers through his hair. “It’s like you’re twins or something, it’s so much.”

You giggle, leaning across the counter to soothe your boyfriend.

“We’ll tone it down a bit, babe. I’m sorry.”

“I’m not.” Seokjin shrugs, a smug look on his face. He exclaims when you lightly hit his shoulder, “What? He said he loves me! I’m over the fucking moon right now.”

All three of you laugh, finishing up your wine and snack grazing. Seokjin orders a cab for the three of you to take to a fancy restaurant by the beach where there’s even more wine. Multiple bottles of it.

You barely remember the dinner, only remembering that the wine kept coming and resulted in both men having their hands on you the entire night. Whether it was Namjoon’s hands on your waist while standing in a crowd, or Seokjin’s hand clutching yours tight while guiding you through the masses of people.

The light touches on your arms at dinner or your thighs in the car, they both knew what they were doing to you and fully aware of the hold they had on you.

At one point, you ended up in a square that had people performing live music and people dancing to it. Seokjin dragged you and Namjoon to the makeshift dance floor, making you dance with your back against his chest and Namjoon facing you. Your hips swayed perfectly against Seokjin’s, pressing just right against his cock while Namjoon’s was pressing against your lower stomach.

Both men covered either side of your neck with kisses, really testing your ability to not moan in public. It took you mumbling something about going home for them to stop, quickly getting a ride back to the private villa.

The moment you hit the mattress, Namjoon has you splayed out on the bed, your summer dress riding dangerously high up your legs. Seokjin stands at the edge of the bed, quietly taking his shirt and pants off.

Namjoon, still fully clothed minus his shoes, crawls over your body, deeply kissing you while his hand roams your entire body. His lips trail down your neck to your shoulder where he stops for a moment. It’s when he lets out a heavy sigh that you feel a sense of panic.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I’m too drunk.”

“What?”

“I can barely stay awake, baby.” He rolls off you, laying on his side while he hugs a pillow.

“But…”

“Jinnie can take care of you. Right, hyung?” He barely opens his eyes to look at the older male, who looks just as confused as you do. “You just can’t fuck her though. Have her ride your thigh. That should do it.”

His eyes fall shut and you sit up, not sure what to do next. You look over to Seokjin, who’s looking at you for confirmation of what to do next, standing there in his underwear that’s straining his cock right now.

“Should we go to your room?” You ask tentatively, moving to get up when he nods.

“No.” Namjoon’s voice returns from its slumber. “I wanna hear it. Do it here.”

“Joonie, you’re tired.” You try to reason, but you know for a fact you’d rather do it here than without him there.

“Here or not at all, baby.” His tired groan sounds serious, so you nod again, bending over to kiss his cheek, a small dimple appearing from his smile.

“I love you, Joonie.”

“Love you too.”

You turn back to Seokjin, a hand reaching out that he quickly takes, pulling you up to meet his standing position with your knees on the bed.

“We don’t have to.” He murmurs, fingers delicately tangling with yours while his other hand finds your waist, bunching up the fabric there.

You shake your head, leaning forward to softly meet his lips with yours. Kissing Seokjin is an experience every time. His plush pout’s ability to take over the kiss, and the moans he makes when you tug on his bottom lip with your teeth to try to regain control, makes you want to crumble into a pile of goo.

“I need something, anything, Jinnie. Please?”

You rarely call Seokjin by the nickname Namjoon and Yoongi gave him years ago. You could probably count on one hand how many times you’ve said it. While it was a loving joke type of nickname from the guys, it always felt almost too intimate coming from you. So you have always stuck with Jin.

Seokjin sighs, smiling at your adorable pouty expression. He whispers okay before leaning in to kiss you again, “what princess wants, princess gets.”

Giant hands maneuver you so he can lay down. When you twist your body to straddle his lap while facing him, the big hands still your hips.

“Ride my face.”

Funny how three little words can make your entire body feel like it’s on fire.

You quickly look over to Namjoon who has his eyes closed, pillow tucked against his chest, but there’s a smile there that you know was in response to Seokjin’s order.

You huff out, moving to crawl further up Seokjin’s body, but you’re stopped again when you’re just about over his face.

“Turn around.”

“What?”

“If I can’t fuck you right now, I need your mouth to remind me what it can do.”

You nod, afraid if you speak, it’ll be mushed up nonsense, and turn around, getting on your hands and knees facing away from Seokjin. His hands grab your upper thighs and tug you closer to his face, making you gasp and almost fall forward when you lose balance on your hands.

“The dress has to go, y/n.” He gives your ass a light squeeze and you quickly rid the dress from your body. Jin lets out a low hum of approval at your matching bra and underwear; a deep crimson red and satin set.

“Every time…” he says under his breath, hooking his fingers into the side of your underwear and pulling it to your knees. You awkwardly lift one so he can move the underwear off it, not caring about the other leg.

You palm Seokjin’s cock through his briefs, smiling softly at the sound he makes.

You don’t hear his response, only gasping when he tugs your lower half down to meet those plush lips of his as he licks a long stripe through your folds, lips wrapping around your clit.

“Fuck, Jin.” You whimper, head dropping to his hip as you slowly rut against his face. His hand smacks the side of your thigh, making you still.

“Let me take care of you, princess.” He says, almost as a warning.

You nod, forgetting he can’t see you, and lift your head up. With one of your shaking hands, you free his cock from the confines of his briefs, momentarily laughing when he tries to kick the fabric off his body.

A harsh suck against your clit stops you from laughing.

You pull yourself together again, wrapping your fingers around his impressive length. You fondly remember when you saw it for the first time last Christmas. You wanted so badly to touch it, hold it in your palm to feel how heavy it was. But there was a desperate need the first time you were with him. Now, nine months later, you had all the time in the world.

Leaning down, you kiss the tip of his cock, enjoying the way it twitches at the contact followed by Seokjin’s light moan. You do it a few more times, on the tip, down the shaft, a kiss or two lands on his balls. Each kiss earns a twitch or a groan. Just as his tongue dives deep in your folds, you gather enough spit to trickle past your lips and onto his cock, using your hand to spread it around before slowly lowering your mouth down his now leaking member.

You let his cock prod the back of your throat for a moment, thanking whatever gods that you barely have a gag reflex, and hum around him. Your nails dig into his thighs as he groans against your center, a hand smacking your ass.

“Princess, what the fuck are you doing to me.”

His hips buck up, his cock somehow finding its way deeper down your throat. You cough, fighting the urge to pull off as his hips continue to buck up, your hands finding the bedding to brace yourself as he fucks your throat. You whine when two fingers ease past your folds, curling inside of you to press against your walls.

It’s not long after that, that you’re crying, coming around his fingers and tongue and whining around his cock. Seconds later, he’s coming as well, bitter liquid shooting down your throat.

You’re so lost in focusing on swallowing and not choking that you don’t hear the small breath of a laugh coming from your boyfriend.

Seokjin, however, heard perfectly.

“Ya, your girl’s a menace.”

You lift your throat off his cock, taking slow but short breaths as you look over at your boyfriend whose eyes travel from your lips down to his best friend’s soaked cock, some cum still coated around him.

You glance down at the wet spot at his crotch.

“Are you still too tired?” Your voice rasps. He nods, but your eyes stay locked on his crotch.

Seokjin pats your ass, signaling for you to crawl off just enough that he can get off the bed.

“I’m gonna shower and head to bed. Tomorrow we will explore Athens.” He gives you a kiss on the cheek before turning to the door and heading to his room. You smile, turning back to your boyfriend who has his eyes barely opened, watching you. Your eyes go back to the wet patch.

“Let me take care of you, Joonie.”

“Baby…”

“Please?”

“I’m fine, baby. Come to bed.” Sighing, you lay down next to him, your leg finding its way between his as you lean in just enough, connecting your lips to his. He moans deeply, tasting Seokjin on your tongue. Your suspicions are confirmed as you feel the bulge in his pants move underneath you.

“You sure you don’t want me to take care of that?” You tease against his lips. Your hand sneaks between you both, but is quickly grabbed by Namjoon’s.

“Yes, baby. I’m sure.” He smiles, eyes shut as he brings your hand up to his lips, kissing your fingers briefly. “Sleep.”

You murmur defeat, getting off the bed to brush your teeth and change into a large shirt to sleep in. When you come back to bed, Namjoon is fast asleep on his back, his arm splayed out waiting for you. You pout, crawling into bed and curling up against his side. The moment your head rests on his shoulder, his arm moves on instinct to wrap around your back, thumb moving back and forth against your shoulder.

It’s not until you’re at the edge of falling asleep that you realize this is the first time Namjoon let you be with Seokjin without claiming you after or being the one to make you come last.

Athens is beautiful. You spent the first three days simply wandering around the ancient city, going from ruin to ruin and museum to museum.

This is how you met Namjoon. You were part of the opening of a new museum in Seoul and Yoongi dragged Namjoon as his plus one. You both immediately hit it off and have been in love ever since.

Yoongi demanded to be one to marry you both, getting ordained on your one year anniversary just in case.

Museums and art galleries quickly became your thing with Namjoon. While it was a part of your job to constantly be in museums and galleries, it’s your dream job for a reason. And what could be better than finding someone who loves your job as much as you do?

Seokjin, however, never showed any particular interest in museums or art in general. Sure, he’d go and take pictures either of or in front of the art, post it to socials, and come up with some horrible dad joke. But he couldn’t stand the idea of spending hours walking around looking at things from years and years ago.

But you have to give him brownie points, he persevered the few days in Athens, knowing there would be wine and delicious food at the end of it all. And potentially a blow job from you.

Namjoon still refused you both from actual sex, making you and Seokjin pout or whine. Seokjin almost begged one night, much to Namjoon’s delight, but he still said no.

After Athens, the three of you packed your bags and boarded a boat to head to the next stop in Greece. Seokjin was beyond excited, Namjoon had a smug smile the entire way over, and you were completely clueless.

That is, until you stepped off the boat onto a wooden deck and it clicked immediately.

“Is this…?”

“Where they filmed Mamma Mia? Yes. Yes it is.” Namjoon replies, helping Seokjin off the boat after you.

“Ahhh, it’s even prettier in person!” Seokjin's voice squeaks, running to stand next to you, hand grabbing yours.

You grin, trying to avoid screaming like you want to. Mamma Mia has and always will be one of your favorite films. It’s your comfort movie and you and Seokjin would watch it consistently when either of you had a shitty day. You’d always end up standing on the couch or coffee table dramatically singing along with the ABBA songs or quoting the movie and acting them out while it played in the background.

Still holding Seokjin’s hand, you turn to your boyfriend, who’s making sure all the luggage is accounted for.

“Oh, right. Sorry, Joonie.” You drag Seokjin back to Namjoon, both of you grabbing as much luggage as you can and following the other tourists off the dock.

Again, Seokjin arranged for a private villa. This one, however is smaller, only has one bed as well as a couch, and no air conditioning.

The first two days aren't a problem. The weather is cool, the clouds covering the sun a majority of the day, and an amazing ocean breeze to make you shiver every now and again. The three of you travel around the island, you and Seokjin giggling every time you find a spot from the movie and having Namjoon take a photo of the both of you mid-reenactment.

During the third and last day on Skopelos, however, there was a heat wave. And it is miserable to put it nicely.

So miserable, none of you want to move. Seokjin is groaning that Greece isn't going anywhere. And you are complaining that days like this are why Google Street View exists. Namjoon is huffy at you both, deciding to go for a run while you two lie around, complaining about the heat.

It is on his run, however, when a perfect idea pops into his head as he sees some locals with frozen treats.

When he comes in, he finds you lying on the tile floor, your flowy summer dress draped around your body and the floor, and Seokjin on the couch, one leg dangling off the edge and the other off the back of the couch. You both look ridiculous as Namjoon heads to the kitchen.

“Jooooooonie, can you make the fan do more?”

It’s a silly question to ask, you know the answer. But you have hope.

“Nope, baby. Sorry.” He answers, head in the freezer. “I have a better idea, though. Hyung, come here.”

He groans, throwing himself off the couch dramatically and playfully stomping his way to Namjoon in the kitchen. He’s about to speak when the two exchange glances. Seokjin glances down at the bowl in his hand and grins, nodding quickly as if to agree to Namjoon’s silent question.

“Princess.”

“Baby.”

They speak at the same time, causing you to tilt your head backwards, looking at the upside down men quizzically.

“Hmm?”

How’s the tile down there?” Your boyfriend asks, hands behind his back.

“It’s cooler than the bed.” You answer slowly as Seokjin sits behind you, Namjoon moving to sit in front of you.

“Wanna play a game?”

“You wouldn’t let me bring my switch, so we can’t unless there’s one here…”

“No. Princess. A game.”

It takes a second to process, but when it finally clicks, Namjoon’s already starting to spread your legs, the dress’s fabric falling to your hips.

“Joonie, it’s too hot…”

“Right. It is way too hot. Which is why I want to play a game.”

You question what he means, allowing Seokjin to lift your head and shoulders enough to tuck himself underneath you, letting your upper torso and your head to rest against chest

“I just wanna help you cool down, baby.” He smirks, bringing the bowl into view for you to see what he means. It’s a small but deep bowl full of ice cubes and pieces alike.

Fuck.

You’re not sure if you say it in your mind or out loud. Possibly out loud since both men grin wide, snickering as Namjoon spreads your legs further. You relax into Seokjin’s chest, his hands finding the bottom of your dress and shimmying it up your torso. You lift your ass off the ground ever so slightly so he can pull the dress further up until he fully removes it, tossing it to the side.

“Gonna be a good girl for us, princess?” Seokjin smiles, leaning down to kiss your forehead.

“What are the rules?” You ask softly, your hands finding Seokjin’s forearms resting on your shoulders.

“The rules, baby, are simple.” Namjoon grins, picking up one of the ice cubes, holding it in his fist to help it melt down a bit.

“Move, and we stop. Come before we say so, and we stop.”

“I don’t like those rules.” You pout, Namjoon rolls his eyes, ignoring you while Seokjin snickers.

“There’s our princess being a brat.”

“Those are the rules, baby. Follow them and you get rewarded.”

“What’s the reward?”

Namjoon looks up to Seokjin, eyebrows raised at Seokjin’s questioning gaze.

“It’s a surprise.” He finally answers, putting the ice cube back in the bowl and trailing his frozen cold hand up your body. You shiver, fighting the urge to pull away from the freezing hand.

“I like to know what I’m winning.” You grumble through chattering teeth, your boyfriend's hand softly gliding up your waist to behind your back.

“I know you do, baby. And I promise you, you’ll feel so fulfilled after.” He whispers, undoing the clasp on your bra.

“Joon.” You whine, fingers digging into Seokjin’s arms after your bra gets removed.

“Ready, baby?”

You nod, hating his teasing tone.

He grabs the ice cube again, it already melting in his palm as he hovers his hand above your chest. All three of you wait as the little drop of freezing water develops under his grip, slowly getting ready to drip down.

You feel yourself breathing harder, chest rising faster as you watch the droplet. When it finally drops, it feels like a spike of ice landing

But before the drop can land on your skin, Namjoon’s pulling it away again.

“New rule. Close your eyes, baby.”

You whine again, body wiggling in anticipation.

“Eyes, princess. Let us make you feel good.” Seokjin whispers against your temple. You nod, shutting your eyes tight and leaning further back into Seokjin’s embrace.

Not even seconds later, you feel a drop of water drip on your chest between your breasts.

“Fuck!” You yelp, body lifting off the ground from the initial shock.

“Already breaking the rules, baby. Stay still or we stop.” Namjoon’s deep voice teases as another few drops land across your chest.

“Okay. Okay okay okay.” You nod, keeping your eyes shut as you grip onto Seokjin’s arms even more to stay still.

You have no idea where the ice is going to be next, your body tensing in preparation for another jolt of cold against your skin. It’s almost torture how long between drops Namjoon lets it be before you feel a full cube against the bottom curve of your breast.

You let out a high pitched whine, forcing yourself to stay still as he glides the ice all around your breasts, to across your clavicle, down the sides of your waist and across your middle section. Your breathing returns to rapid breaths, shivering with goosebumps as well as just pure arousal.

You can’t tell what’s turning you on more; the frozen water being softly dragged across your sensitive skin, or the melted water that remains in its path, dripping down your sides and making its way to your back.

Opposite of the freezing ice, however, is how hot Seokjin’s skin feels behind you. It almost feels like the ice dripping behind you is evaporating the moment it makes contact with his skin.

It’s too hot.

But you want more.

Need more.

The last piece of ice melts directly over your belly button, your breath stuttering when Namjoon’s hand goes flat across your stomach, gliding up to between your breasts and around your throat.

“Good girl. Ready for more?”

You whimper out a yes, your legs subconsciously spreading further for him, like your body begging where to go next.

“Remember. No movements, princess.” Seokjin teases, having noticed your legs.

You huff out in complaint, but it quickly turns into a shaking gasp when there’s an ice cube tracing up your inner thigh. Namjoon skips over where you want it most, dragging the cube to your other thigh and back up to your lower stomach, dancing the cube along the waistline of your underwear.

“Joonie, please.”

“Please what?”

“I hate the teasing.” You pout petulantly, head twisting to the side to bury your face in Seokjin’s arm. You’re desperately trying to ignore the hardening bulge pressing up against your back.

“Mmmm, I’d say otherwise, baby. You’re soaking through. I mean, hyung just look at how soak—”

A string of curse words leave your lips, unable to hear anything the men are teasing about, when Namjoon presses a cube directly over the wet patch of your underwear, fitting perfectly against your folds and your clit.

“Ya! No biting!” Seokjin’s voice yells, prying your mouth away from his bicep.

Namjoon pulls the ice away, giving your clothed center a light smack. Your hips jerk from the sensation, fighting back the urge to open your eyes.

“‘M sorry, Jin.” You whimper, kissing where you think you bit.

“I don’t know if I should forgive you, princess. That was a very bad thing to do.”

“No no, I’ll be good. Please.”

There’s silence. With the inability to see them, you can’t tell if they’re silently discussing whether to punish or reward you.

“I feel like she’s been through enough, Joonie. Maybe we should just stop here.”

“She can take more.”

“I can. I can do it. Please.”

“What’s the word, baby?”

“Wendigo.” You let out a breathless laugh, the two men snickering at the memory.

Namjoon taps your hip, telling you to lift so he can remove your underwear, tossing it aside with your dress. You feel movement down between your legs before you feel a sudden warm breath, making your toes curl.

“Remember, princess. No movement.”

You nod vigorously, clutching onto Seokjin again when Namjoon’s warm tongue licks a full stroke up your folds, the tip teasingly dancing against your clit.

He’s vicious with the way he teases you, breathing against your soaked center with his hot breath before bringing the melting cube to your clit when he can feel you’re close. Your constant moans and cries only encourage him further as he pops the cube into his mouth, settling it below his tongue, and dancing it at your entrance. The switch between warm tongue and ice cube is infuriating to say the least.

“You’re being such a good girl, princess. I think Joonie might reward you soon.” Seokjin’s deep voice against your ear sends a different kind of shiver down your spine.

Namjoon’s mouth pulls away from your throbbing center, giving your inner thigh a light kiss. You take a deep breath, eyes still shut, as you wait for whatever pleasurable torture was next.

But nothing happens.

Nothing happens for what feels like eternity but, in reality, it’s only a minute or two before you feel your boyfriend’s body move away from you. The sounds of shuffling as well as Seokjin letting you go slack against his body.

“Do you trust me, baby?” Namjoon’s voice comes from where you think the kitchen is located. You nod, muttering out of course while leaning further into Seokjin’s chest.

“Let’s move her to the couch, hyung. Baby, keep your eyes shut.” Seokjin does as he’s told, lifting you up carefully and bringing you to stand in front of the couch. It sounds like more ice is being put into the ceramic bowl. Your body shakes at the thought.

“Sit, hyung.” When you hear movement to the left of you, you can only assume Seokjin’s following orders.

“Jagi…” Namjoon’s voice is suddenly right in front of you, a big cold hand softly caressing your waist. The temperature makes you jump, but you settle into it immediately.

“I think hyung was right, you deserve a reward. I’m gonna sit you down on hyung’s cock, and you’re gonna be good and take it all, right?”

You nod again, pouting slightly when he reminds you to keep your eyes closed as he leads you back. Your hands reach behind you, finding Seokjin’s immediately as he and Namjoon help you onto the couch. They sit you down on Seokjin’s lap, your legs spread and hooked on either side of his thighs. Seokjin lets go of one of your hands to wrap around his cock, giving himself a few pumps before his tip meets your entrance.

“Ready, princess?”

“Please.” You beg, head falling back when he presses the tip past your folds, slowly easing himself inside of you.

“Good job, baby. Keep taking his cock, take every inch.” Namjoon’s praises sound like they’re coming from below you, but you’re not sure, unable to focus as you try to relax around Seokjin’s massive length.

Once you give the okay to Seokjin, he sinks down on the couch a bit more, bringing you back to plant your feet on the cushion so his hips are free to move at the pace he knows drives you crazy.

You cry out, it’s been months since you’ve had him inside you and it feels so fucking good, you could write poems and songs about how good his cock feels filling and stretching you out with every thrust.

“Fuck, please. Please let me come. Feels too good. Plea— oh, fuck.” Your body jolts at the sudden feeling of ice against the junction where your pelvis meets your thigh. Seokjin’s hands quickly steady you, massive hands holding your waist still while he continues to fuck you.

The moans you make are pornographic as the ice cube slides around your skin, gliding and dancing around your pulsing clit that when he finally brings it there, you let out a sharp gasp. You bite your bottom lip, trying to fight the curses you want to scream at the top of your lungs.

Namjoon quickly removes the cube from against your sensitive bundle of nerves, questioning Seokjin for permission to something you can’t hear because you’re too focused on Seokjin’s cock hitting exactly where it needs to.

When you hear Seokjin whine, saying yes, he slows down his thrusts, hands bringing your waist down to sit on his lap with his cock fully inside of your clenching walls.

You resist asking them what they’re doing, knowing it’s pointless. You lean your head against Seokjin’s shoulder, facing his neck as your lips find skin.

You’re about to press soft kisses against the skin when a sharp bolt of ice courses through your body.

Your eyes snap open, looking down at where you and Seokjin are connected and you nearly come just from the sight of Namjoon’s tongue shoving a small mostly melted ice cube past your entrance and against the bulging vein around Seokjin’s cock.

Your boyfriend’s tongue is on your best friend’s dick.

Okay, maybe it’s not on his dick, but it’s close enough to just graze over that counts.

The fingers holding onto your waist dig deep into your skin as Seokjin groans at the feeling of the ice cube being kept inside of you by his dick.

You whine, head leaning back again and shutting your eyes once more as you feel the cube, melting fast, make its way inside of you, being eased deeper by the head of Seokjin’s cock.

“How’s it feel, baby?” Your boyfriend’s voice rumbles against your skin as he sits up on his knees, large hands on your thighs, watching the way you take Seokjin’s cock.

“So fucking good.” You whimper.

“Fucking heaven.” Seokjin whines behind you, hips beginning to lose their rhythm, teeth grazing your neck. “I won’t last long, fuck it’s so impossible to last long with you, y/n.”

You let out a soft laugh, a moan mixing through it, as you reach behind you, tugging Seokjin’s hair to pull his face back to yours, trapping him in a kiss.

“Come for me, Jin. Fill me up. Please.” You repeat your request against his lips until you’re wincing from his teeth catching your bottom lip and one last thrust. The sensation of his cum filling you up makes you both moan.

Namjoon’s hands help you lift yourself just enough that Seokjin’s cock slips out, but he quickly stands, leaning over you both on the couch, and slides himself past your entrance, stuffing his hyung’s cum back inside.

“Joon!” You cry out, hands flying away from Seokjin and grasping Namjoon’s forearms.

“Take his cock, princess. Gotta keep all my cum in there.” Seokjin’s strained voice comes from behind you. One hand barely helps to hold you up as the other sneaks away and you hear that damn ceramic bowl with ice being moved around.

“Don’t you dare.” You mumble, immediately feeling Seokjin laugh under you.

“I thought you could take it, y/n?” Seokjin teases, grasping an ice cube and tracing it along your waist. You gasp, trying to move your body away from the sensation, but Namjoon tugs you back on top of the older man as he starts thrusting.

Seokjin’s fingers trail the cube up your waist, alongside your ribs, just below your breasts, before finally bringing it to one of your nipples. Your back attempts to arch, but Seokjin’s other hand forces you back down from your stomach until you’re fully lying on him, no longer hovering.

It’s a chaotic mix of teasing, pleasure, and pain as Namjoon’s thumb starts circling your clit as he pounds into you at the same time as Seokjin’s ice trails along your skin. You barely give a warning before you’re crying out over your orgasm, body shaking and trying to grab onto anything you can.

It’s only seconds later you feel Namjoon’s cock twitch inside of you, making you feel more full than before.

You wake up to the sounds of Seokjin snoring behind you. Eyes opening wide in panic when he lets out a rather loud one that almost sounds like he’s choking. You try to turn over to check on him, but you’re being held down by one of his arms.

When your eyes open, you’re met with Namjoon’s closed ones, silently sleeping. He’s hugging his pillow tight, somehow unaware of the loud snores behind you.

Or so you think.

You try moving again, freezing instantly when Namjoon’s eyes open, a soft smile forming.

“Hey, beautiful.” He whispers softly, his voice gravelly from the slumber.

“Hi?”

“How you feeling?” His question confuses you.

You feel fine. But you last remember Namjoon coming inside of you and that’s it.

“Good? I don’t…remember what happened.” You try shuffling close to your boyfriend, but Seokjin’s hold on you is tight. Namjoon lets out a soft giggle, scooting closer to you instead.

“You kinda passed out…?” His eyebrows raise a little, smile starting to form into a small laugh, “not like anything bad. But, after I came, you were a little loopy? It was amusing. We took care of you though. Cleaned you up and everything.”

“Hmm. I genuinely don’t remember, but thank you, baby.”

“Where’s my thank you.” The voice behind you grumbles against your skin. You and Namjoon laugh as you twist your face into the pillow, muffling yourself.

“Thank you, Jinnie” your voice drowns in the pillow.

“Namjoon should thank me too. I was super helpful.”

You laugh into the pillow.

“I take thank yous in kisses, please and thank you.” He snickers. You shake your head, twisting your body to face him now.

“Shut up, hyung.” Namjoon sighs, his hand rubbing up against your waist.

Seokjin’s so pretty when he wakes up. His face is a little extra puffy, but it’s so cute. You love it.

“I’ll get my kiss from him one day.” He pouts.

“One day. I believe in it.” You grin, leaning in to give him an obnoxious kiss, pulling away with a loud mwah sound.

The three of you laze around the rest of the day, only going out to get dinner before returning to sleep.

The next day, the three of you make the trip to the final destination: Mykonos.

It’s an island you had discussed early on in the relationship. Your typical Greece imagery of gorgeous waters, all white buildings and blue trim, beautiful beaches all around. Everything about it was perfect in the images you looked at. But it’s nothing compared to seeing it in person.

You guys have the last four days here to just relax and enjoy the beaches.

The day before Namjoon’s birthday, the three of you all separate to do different things. You stay inside, having some work stuff come up that you can't avoid. Seokjin decides to lounge on the deck of the villa you are staying in. It has stairs leading down straight onto the beach. There is a running path just off to the side and Namjoon decides to go see how much of the island he can cover (not much, but he does try).

When you finally finish up with work (you’re going to fight with Taehyung when you get back for directing the issue he could’ve easily fixed to you, knowing full well you are on vacation), you change into a bathing suit, throwing an oversized shirt (whether it’s Namjoon’s or Seokjin’s, you’ll never know) on over it and walk out onto the deck.

You’ll never get over Seokjin without a shirt.

He’s leaning over the balcony, in only shorts as his broad shoulders are on full display. The dimples in his back as well as the way his shoulder blades move when he shifts in place is enough to send shivers down your spine.

You lean against the railing while standing next to him, staying quiet while he’s on the phone, having some sort of back and forth with who you assume is his manager. You’re quickly distracted by the beautiful blue waves rolling in to notice Seokjin repositioning to stand behind you, resting his chin on your head while he continues his phone call.

“Yeah. I should be back in a few days and then I was hoping to stay in Seoul a few days before New York…but I guess that’s not happening?”

You pout when he sighs, saying he understands and hanging up. The phone is tucked away in his back pocket while his arms snake around your waist.

“Already have to go back to work?”

He nods, moving down to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“Unfortunately. They actually wanted me to come back tonight but I told him to fuck off.”

“No you didn’t.”

“No, I didn’t. But I did politely say no and made a compromise to come back asap.”

“You’re too nice to them.” You pout, watching a couple playing in the ocean waves, “They overwork you. I miss you. Namjoon misses you.”

“I miss you too, princess. I miss you and Joon every time I’m away.”

“Wanna stay here forever.” It’s a soft mumble, but you know he hears it when he hums in agreement, turning his head to kiss your cheek. You turn your face to him, letting your lips meet in a slow, deep, kiss.

Again, there’s nothing quite like kissing Seokjin. Namjoon is the love of your life and always will be, but there’s just something about Seokjin’s lips that you crave constantly. Something about the way he holds you both delicately and possessively. Or the way he looks at you after a kiss, like he’s just as lost in it as you are. Like he’s trying to figure out the answer to the question you’ve been asking since that weekend in the Swiss mountains.

He uses his tongue to tease your lips apart, making you gasp through a moan as he turns you around to face him, hands gripping your waist.

“Jinnie” you whine, your arms wrapping around his shoulders. His lips trail down your jaw to that special spot between your neck and shoulder.

“I’m sorry, y/n. We shouldn’t unless Namjoon’s around. But,” he leaves a small love bite on your shoulder, “you just have this effect on me. I can’t help it.”

You nod, moaning when you tug on his hair, making him suck harder on your skin. You’re going to be covered in bruises and hickies when you get home. You don’t care.

“What’d I miss?” Namjoon’s voice breaks you two apart, but only barely. Seokjin’s lips place soft kisses on your cheek and forehead while you look at the man you love.

“Jin told his manager to fuck off and wait until his vacation is over.”

“No he didn’t.”

“See?” You look at Seokjin, a playful smile and raised eyebrow, “you’re too nice.”

“I have to be. Or it ruins my reputation and makes me look like I’m difficult to work with.”

“But you are difficult to work with.”

“I take it back. I don’t miss you. I only miss Namjoon.” He jokingly shoves you away, stepping to move behind Namjoon, getting on his tiptoes to put his chin on the younger’s shoulder. “You’re too tall.” He grumbles, wrapping his arms around Namjoon’s middle.

Namjoon smirks, hands holding onto Seokjin’s forearms to keep him there.

“Well, I still think you’re too nice. You guys have fun. I’m going to get in the water.” You laugh, heading down the steps to the beach. You hear snickers, turning back briefly to see Namjoon turning in Seokjin’s arms to face him.

You look back towards the beach, allowing them privacy even though that word barely exists with you three.

The water is perfect. It’s not cold like the Pacific Ocean, not weirdly warm like the Atlantic. It’s a perfect balance.

You let your feet sink into the sand, the gentle waves slowly bringing you closer to the ocean as the sand keeps you still.

You love it here.

You love your job, love your life, love your friends, family, and your boyfriend.

But here? With not only your boyfriend but the man you crushed on for years that you now have the privilege to be with along with your boyfriend? For two whole weeks?

That’s heaven.

It’s felt right these two weeks with them. Any time it’s been just you and Namjoon, it’s been perfect as usual, but it always feels like something is missing.

Or rather someone.

You’re not sure how long you’re out here, staring at the horizon. The sand is halfway up your calves and the waves are hitting your upper thighs by the time two large arms wrap around your middle, body draping over your back as lips find refuge on your neck.

You smile, sighing as you relax in his hold, tilting your head to the opposite side so he has better access.

“Where’s my Jagi right now?” Namjoon’s voice barely breaks above the waves, only enough because it’s right by your ear.

“Thinking.”

“About?” His nose nudges under your ear.

“Us.” You pause when you feel him tense, “us and Jin.”

“What about us and Jin?” His body relaxes, but barely. You use his hold on you as support as you pull your feet from the sand, both of you stepping a little further from the ocean when you turn to face him.

“What is this to you, Joon?” Your arms snake around his neck, fingers dancing through his hair there. “Or rather, what is Jin? I know last year he was my present or whatever, but…that was nine months ago. And after all the texts with photos and videos and the times we’ve been with him…I don’t know. I need some sort of understanding before this gets too much.”

Namjoon’s eyes stay steady on you the entire time, the hands sitting on your waist, holding you gently, yet firm enough to keep you still. His thumbs rubbing circles through the shirt.

“Too much, how?” Is all he asks.

“I…I don’t know. Too much like he’s part of this? Too much like my crush from before you comes back and causes issues?”

“How would that cause issues, Jagi?”

“I don’t want to choose…”

“Baby,” Namjoon smirks, leaning in to kiss your forehead, “there is nothing to choose. I’m yours forever and if you want him, too…as long as he wants you back…I’m pretty sure I’ve done nothing but show you I’m very okay with sharing you.”

“That’s nice and all and I love you for that,” you pull away from him just slightly, forcing him to look at you again, “but what about you? What is this to you? It can’t just be me with two boyfriends. I mean, it can. But…what about you and Jin?”

And that’s where his confidence falters, for just a moment, you see it in his eyes and the way his lips twitch.

He comes up with nothing when his mouth opens to speak, face contorting almost into confusion.

“Joon? You okay?”

“Yeah…I just…” you let him pause, finding the right words as his eyes flit behind you to the crashing waves. It’s hard to bite back the smile when you try to soothe whatever worries he seems to have by massaging his nape. His eyes close momentarily before opening again, landing on your own.

“I don’t know yet. But…I think there’s something…between him and I, I mean.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” he nods slowly, eyes back on the ocean, “I just don’t know what exactly it is. If it’s just because of you or if it’s something else entirely? It’s confusing.”

“It’s okay, Joon. You don’t need to figure anything out right this second, but we should all sit down and figure this out at some point…maybe not tomorrow, though.”

“Why not tomorrow?” His head tilts to the side, looking back at you.

“Your birthday? The whole reason we went on this trip?”

It takes two seconds of silence before he starts fully laughing, having to back away from you to bend over.

“I’ll be one hundred percent honest, I totally forgot.”

…

“You can’t be serious.”

“I was just treating it like a vacation with my best friend and my girlfriend.”

“Oh my god, Kim Namjoon. You’re an actual goober!” You playfully smack his shoulder, laughing with him. He takes the perfect opportunity to launch himself at you, bending slightly to pick you up by your thighs. You both laugh as your legs wrap around his waist, arms around his shoulders again.

It’s a playful series of events, he threatens to lean forward, dumping you into the waves, you returning the threat with your own of no skin contact for a month, and just all around cuteness between you both that you’d be lying if you said wasn’t one of your favorite things about him. He’s so serious at work, so serious in most social situations. Except for with you, where he can be himself; laughing, dancing badly, making really terrible dad jokes, and just being your Namjoon.

That night, the three of you are all dressed up for dinner reservations Seokjin made at the five star restaurant at the resort you’re staying at.

Both men go for formal casual; slacks, a tucked in button up shirt, leaving the first three buttons undone for an added we’re on vacation and gorgeous models look that Seokjin will not shut up about.

You dress up in a little black mini dress. It isn't too short to be informal, but just short enough that Namjoon’s hands stay on your thigh during dinner and Seokjin playfully grabs at your ass when you are waiting to be seated.

Seokjin has the staff come sing happy birthday to Namjoon, the man’s face turning the deepest shades of embarrassment until the staff leave.

Two bottles of expensive wine and a delicious meal later, the three of you are walking lazily down the pathway back to the villa. Seokjin directly behind you, his hands wandering your body as he kept you against his chest.

Mumbles of your nickname are pressed against your neck as he kisses and licks the skin there, not caring about where you are walking.

With your head tilted to give him more access, your hazy eyes find your boyfriend a few feet away, holding onto the jacket you thought you might need, as well as your purse and heels you ditched at one point. He’s smiling his I’m tipsy grin, dimples peeking through as he watches his best friend cling to you.

When you step past the front door of the villa, your body is quickly turned, back pressed up against the wall as Seokjin lifts your legs around his waist to bruise your neck some more.

Your moans are cut off by your boyfriend’s words.

“Hyung.” Seokjin quickly removes his lips from your skin. Head turning to look at his friend. “Bed.” Is all he says, tossing your stuff on the couch on the way to the bedroom. Seokjin smirks, tightening his hold on you as he pulls off the wall and heading to the bedroom with you in his arms.

Namjoon is already standing by the foot of the bed, shirt pulled out of the waistband of the slacks that are unbuttoned, but still sitting on his hips. There’s a very prominent bulge peeking through the pants and it’s amazing how nervous it still makes you after all these years.

There’s a silent exchange between the two men as Seokjin lays you down on the bed, letting you scoot back towards the headboard as he crawls over you. His mouth is on your neck again, wet lips marking anywhere he can.

A free hand feels its way down your body, long fingers heading straight to your clothed center. He pushes a finger against your entrance, the fabric gathering up the arousal.

You both let out a curse, your hips rolling up to meet his hand, trying so hard to get his finger to fully enter you. But it doesn’t, he teases you repeatedly, gathering more slick against your underwear until your boyfriend’s voice off to the side tells him to stop.

It’s almost like deja vu the way Seokjin pulls your underwear off, and hands it directly to Namjoon, who’s sitting in a chair next to the bed, cock already in his hand.

Your eyes stay on the way the underwear slides against his erection, the amount of arousal on the fabric mixing with his own.

But his eyes? His eyes are on Seokjin. The way his fingers dig into your flesh as they roam your body.

No. Not again.

“Jin, off.” You whisper it, having to repeat it a little louder when he ignores you in favor of kissing your jaw.

“You okay?” His whisper is panicked, hands leaving your skin to hold himself above you by placing them on either side of you on the bed.

“Yeah,” you nod quickly, “just…the birthday boy.” Your eyes find Seokjin’s and you don’t know when it happened, but somehow you two developed a similar mind. He nods, kissing your nose and rolling off you to sit at the head of the bed, lightly palming himself.

You grin, crawling off the bed, making sure Seokjin has a perfect view of your soaked center sans underwear.

“Joonie, join us.” You stand in front of him at his chair, light fingers taking the underwear away from his cock.

“I’m okay here, baby. Get back to hyung.”

You shake your head, and he doesn’t hesitate to help you when you straddle his lap, his cock teasing your clit as you settle down.

“Come.”

“That’s my line.”

You roll your eyes at his beautiful dimples, leaning down to kiss each one.

“It’s your birthday, Joonie. Let us take care of you.”

“It’s not my birthday yet.”

“As of seven minutes ago, it is officially your birthday, Kim Namjoon.” Seokjin’s voice comes from the bed, phone in hand with a shit eating grin on his face. You grin as well, looking back at your boyfriend.

“See? It’s your day, baby.” You coo, brushing his hair back. “What would you like for your birthday?”

“What are you doing?” He questions, eyes trying to decipher your smile.

“I just want my Joonie to be happy and properly taken care of.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Now, be good and get on the bed.”

“Oh, you’re telling me what to do now?”

You hum, nodding as you stand up between his legs, holding your hands out for him, palms up. He gives you a look before looking over at Seokjin and smiles nervously, taking your hands and standing with you.

You back up to the bed, pulling him with you with a smile. You only let go to tug the slacks and briefs off the rest of the way.

“Sit next to Jin.” You quietly command, letting him move past you to get on the bed, sitting next to Seokjin, who at some point pulled all his clothes off except his underwear.

Still in your dress, you crawl back onto the bed, a smirk forming when it appears Namjoon knows exactly what you’re doing and spreads his legs just slightly. Just enough to let you get comfortable on your stomach and your arms resting on his thighs.

“Happy birthday, Joonie.” You grin, taking his cock in your hand and giving it a single pump, standing it up in front of you. Your lips sneak small kisses up and down his length, longer ones on his tip, before slowly easing his entire length down your throat. Holding him there in your mouth, a free hand cradles his balls in your palm, giving them a gentle massage that makes him groan, hands clutching your hair.

“God, she’s too good at that.” Seokjin murmurs, your lips wrapped around Namjoon’s tip, tongue teasing at the slit that’s already oozing with precum.

“I bet you’d do just— ah, fuck,” Namjoon’s head falls back, hitting the headboard as you take him down in one go without warning. “You’d do just fine, hyung.”

“Oh, I know I would. I’d do more than fine.” Seokjin’s quick to quip and you can’t help but smile internally, lifting your mouth off and away from your boyfriend’s cock.

“Prove it.”

Both men stare at you, one turning a deep shade, the other almost laughing if not for the shock of the call out.

“That’s not…” Seokjin stutters, still trying not to smile.

“Not what? Joonie loves his cock sucked. You have amazing lips and your mouth is big enough, I’m sure you could take him all.”

“Baby.” Namjoon warns but you ignore the tone, looking at him with pleading eyes.

“Jin needs to prove himself, Joon. Is it okay if he helps me with your cock?”

Namjoon’s eyes stay locked on yours. You can’t tell if he’s angry or nervous, but it’s enough to make you feel like submitting to whatever he wants, but also rebel against everything and anything he says.

Not to mention, the shooting jolt of arousal you get from just that gaze is enough.

It’s Seokjin’s voice that breaks through the staring contest.

“I’ll be good, Joon. I promise.”

Namjoon’s eyes tear away from yours to Seokjin’s so fast, you think his neck would’ve snapped.

You keep watching your boyfriend for any sort of negative reaction.

But his eyes dance from eye to eye to lips, back to his eyes and next thing you know, Namjoon is nodding, sliding further down the bed to give you both access.

You share a look with Seokjin, both ending in a grin as you take place on the bed between Namjoon’s legs. Your boyfriend is muttering something quietly to himself, his arm thrown over his face.

You give Seokjin’s cheek a kiss, a hand pressing soothing circles into Namjoon’s thigh. Seokjin reaches out for Namjoon’s cock, almost mimicking your actions from moments ago. You watch in awe as his lips prove to be perfect for this activity, his mouth wide enough to take Namjoon down without a problem.

“Fuck, so fucking good.” Namjoon mutters, biting his forearm. You can’t fight the smirk when you and Seokjin dive in at the same time, licking and kissing along his shaft and tip, both taking turns with his balls.

Namjoon is going insane, fighting the urges to either force both of you closer to his cock until he’s coming across both of your faces, or to fill Seokjin’s mouth with himself until Seokjin’s crying and coming down his throat. He so desperately wants to regain control, but if this is what happens when he doesn’t have control?

Fuck that. No better time to give it all up than right now.

“Fuck, okay you have to stop or I’m going to explode.”

You look away from Seokjin’s swollen lips around Namjoon’s tip to look back at your boyfriend, who has his eyes on the ceiling, afraid to look down at the two of you for it might make him come.

“That’s not how you ask.”

“Baby.” There’s that warning tone again.

“Joonie.” You mock the tone, Seokjin pulls off, giving his tip one last lick.

“Tell him, princess.”

You grin, wrapping your hand around Namjoon’s shaft, pumping hellishly slow.

“Come on, Joonie. Be good for us. Ask correctly.”

It takes a few more pumps, Seokjin next to you, kissing your shoulder, before Namjoon lets out a deep whine, voice cracking when he finally speaks.

“Please stop. I need you to stop before I come. Please, baby.”

“I like that word coming from those lips,” Seokjin giggles, “no offense, princess. It’s just hotter.”

“None taken. I agree a hundred percent.”

“You two are the worst.” Namjoon’s muffled words send you both into a giggle fit, giving one another a small high five.

“It’s what we strive to be, Joon.” Seokjin nods in agreement, arms wrapping around your waist, chin resting on your shoulder.

“Now, since you clearly need a minute, how about I take care of the princess for a moment?” Seokjin’s lips trail up your neck to your jaw and finally seal your lips with his. He tastes like Namjoon, and you’d be lying if you said that didn’t make you want to come right then and there.

Namjoon nods, muttering approval before you’re yoinked away from your boyfriend, giggling when you’re pulled on top of Seokjin. It’s a fumble getting his briefs off as well as your dress, but you manage to do it, out of breath from laughing too much at the end.

You sit up, your mind in a blissful happiness you can’t describe at the sight of both men on the bed.

“I’m too lucky.” You whisper, using one hand to steady yourself over Seokjin’s hips, the other wrapping around his cock, giving it a few pumps to coat it with his own precum. His hands find your hips, holding tightly as you align him with your center, sinking down until he’s fully inside.

“Shit,” you curse, loving the stretch while you slowly lift your hips, circling them at the same time.

“Come on, princess. Show me what you can do.” Seokjin coos, giving your ass a light spank to encourage you to move. You scoff, grabbing the hand on your ass to hold it there as you pick up the pace, bouncing on him.

Seokjin’s cock is perfection, honestly. Or as close to it as one can get. Namjoon’s is too. But goddamn Kim Seokjin’s dick can make you see stars.

Neither of you notice Namjoon getting on his knees to crawl to you, grabbing your face and kissing you like he’s never kissed you before.

It’s hunger, lust, love, vulnerability, and just everything kissing should be with the one you love.

You melt into him, your pace slowing again on Seokjin’s hips, your hands reaching to hold your boyfriend’s face.

It’s not enough.

“Joonie,” you breathe against his lips, your hips stilling, “I need you.”

“Wait until hyung’s done, baby.”

You shake your head almost too fast, pushing him back a bit. You gesture to Seokjin to fully lay down, laying across his torso, lifting your ass up as if you’re presenting yourself to him.

“Both, Joonie. Want you both.” You moan against Seokjin’s collarbone, your hips rolling against his own, keeping his cock inside you.

There’s a breath of a curse and your princess nickname under you, his hands holding your waist as you still.

“Jagi,” Namjoon chokes in his next breath, eyes focused on your stretched cunt swallowing Seokjin whole, “are you sure?”

“Yes. I need it, baby. Wanna feel you both.”

“You’re not nearly stretched enough.”

“I’m fine. Please.”

“If she says she’s fine, she’s fine, Joon. Please hurry up.” Seokjin tries to joke, but his jest is cut off by a groan when you lift your hips and slam them back down for some kind of friction. “Princess, behave. I’m trying to help you.”

“Both.” You whimper desperately. “Need you both.”

“Listen to her, Joonie,” Seokjin teases, spreading his legs some, “she needs us. You gave control. Do as she says.”

“I did not give her control.”

“Joonie.” You cry with another roll of your hips.

“Shit, Jagi. Okay.” His voice is rushed as he gets in his knees between Seokjin’s legs.

“He’s so whipped for you, princess.”

You giggle softly into Seokjin’s neck. The three of you have to maneuver around just a little for the right angle, but you finally feel the tip of your boyfriend’s cock along your inner thigh.

You clench at the sensation, quietly apologizing to Seokjin when he gasps.

“Relax, princess. You have to relax if you want us both.”

“I do. I do, I do. Want you both.”

“Kiss me.” Those two words have your head spinning as you lift it to melt your lips to his.

In the back of your mind, you know what he’s doing. He’s distracting you, giving you something else to focus on and relax. And goddamn does it work. You get so lost in the feeling of his lips, the way his tongue dances with yours, and matching your breathing to his, that you barely notice Namjoon pressing inside of you, cock sliding against Seokjin’s. Not until Seokjin lets out a guttural groan at the pressure.

Then you feel it.

How full you feel.

Both men inside you.

How it should be.

No choices. No turns. Just together. The three of you.

The stretch is intense. Borderline painful. But you’re so aroused from just the fact that both the men you love so much are inside you at the same time, that the pain lessens quickly.

“You okay, Y/N?” Namjoon’s voice echoes against your ear.

You try to hold yourself up to lean into him, but feel your arms giving out. As if he knows what is happening, because of course he knows, an arm snakes its way around your middle, holding you up against him, allowing you to focus on the feeling of them.

“Full.” You mutter, hand reaching behind you to run your fingers through Namjoon’s hair. “So full. ‘Sokay though, you can move.”

His lips press against your ear, then your neck, ending on your shoulder as he gives Seokjin a look before they both nod, alternating their thrusts. Every time Namjoon pulls back, Seokjin pushes further in and vice versa.

It feels too fucking good. But you can’t do it yet. You can’t come yet. You need the feeling to last longer. You try to prolong the feeling, rolling your hips to meet with Namjoon’s thrust, clenching around him as you do so.

You shouldn’t have done that.

Instead of prolonging it, it just forces your orgasm. Your sensitive clit rubs just the right way against Seokjin’s pelvis, making you cry out in complete euphoria.

“Oh, fuck!” Namjoon’s voice cracks behind you, hips stuttering before pressing flush against you.

You can feel his cum pooling inside of you, spreading around with your own arousal as Seokjin’s thrusts continue, encouraging Namjoon to keep coming until they both have to pull out from you and Namjoon becoming oversensitive.

Namjoon falls back from his sitting position on his knees to on his ass, hands holding him up behind him. You roll off Seokjin, eyes shut as you breathe heavily. Your body can’t decide between closing your legs to keep Namjoon’s cum inside and keeping your legs open because of the soreness and sensitivity.

It takes a few seconds before you hear a body shuffling on the bed and a gasp from beside you.

“What are you doing?!” Seokjin whisper-shouts. Your eyes fly open as you turn to look at the gorgeous sight beside you.

Seokjin is still lying down, legs spread. But he’s looking down between them where Namjoon has settled on his stomach, hand cautiously wrapped around Seokjin’s still hardened erection.

“You haven't come yet.” Namjoon states.

“So, what? You’re gonna jerk me?”

“No? I was gonna try…sucking.”

You and Seokjin both snicker at the same time, much to Namjoon’s annoyance.

“Oh. I can’t decide if that was adorable or fucking hot.” Seokjin cackles, a hand holding Namjoon’s face gently. Namjoon tries swatting the hand away, losing very quickly when you’re suddenly laying on your stomach as well, but near Seokjin’s side.

“It was both. One hundred percent, it was both.” You kiss the cheek not being cradled. “Want some help?”

It’s the way he nods so nervously that makes your heart burst. You grin, settling in closer.

“Well, you’ve seen me do it a million times. Use the lips, avoid teeth, the balls are fun, always kiss the tip, know your limits.” You give the instruction fairly easily, trying not to giggle at his anxiousness. “You’ll be okay, Joonie. And if you don’t like it, you can stop at any time.”

“I’d rather he didn’t, though.”

“Jin.” You warn, glaring at the handsome idiot.

“Don’t Jin me! You both came already! I’m dying here!”

Namjoon snorts, not hesitating or giving any warning when he leans forward to kiss Seokjin’s tip.

“Oh— fuck.” Seokjin’s hand leaves Namjoon’s face, hitting the mattress by his thigh, and taking a deep breath when Namjoon slowly wraps his lips around the head, tongue dancing along the slit.

You watch in awe, giving words of encouragement as Namjoon lowers his mouth further down Seokjin’s cock, trying his best to take as much as he can. His hand cradles his balls, massaging them gently, but giving a small tug every now and again.

“You’re doing so good, Joonie.” You praise over and over, running your hand through his hair, “make him come, baby. Make him lose control the way you do to me.”

Namjoon finally hits his gag reflex, coughing slightly around Seokjin. His eyes lift to find Seokjin’s head leaning back, hand hitting the mattress again, fingers digging into the blanket.

“Careful.” Your eyes widen slightly, resisting the urge to pull him off. If Namjoon wants to stop, he’ll stop.

Also the sight and sounds are way too erotic to want to stop him.

Seokjin’s head snaps forward at the feeling of Namjoon’s free hand pulling the hand tangled in the sheets, placing the hand in his hair.

Their eyes meet.

Seokjin smiles, his fingers tangling in Namjoon’s hair as the younger’s head lifts to wrap around the tip, tongue teasing it.

“Goddamn, Joonie, that’s fucking perfect.” Seokjin lets out a light laugh, almost in disbelief at what’s happening. His hand slowly presses his head down, making Namjoon take more of him until it hits the back of his throat again.

You honestly don’t know what to do yourself. Do you touch them? Join in? Say something? Encourage them to continue? Honestly, you’d rather just sit back and enjoy the visual of your boyfriend and best friend enjoying one another.

You do, however, find yourself rolling your hips against a blanket, soaked center making it perfect for your clit to glide along as you watch.

And of course, Namjoon knows what you’re doing, even with his best friend’s dick down his throat. The free hand that had Seokjin’s trades with the one cradling his balls, quickly pulling the blanket away from you. You whine in protest, but his hand quickly finds its way between your legs, long fingers collecting up arousal and cum to spread around your clit.

Your hips buck up closer to his hand, whimpering when a finger finds its way past your entrance, pumping you in perfect timing with the way he bobs his head.

You know exactly what the fuck he’s doing.

It takes barely a few minutes of the synchronized bobbing and pumping until Seokjin is almost in tears, moaning loudly as he comes down Namjoon’s throat at the same time your hips lose any and all sense of rhythm, coming around Namjoon’s fingers as you hug Seokjin’s thigh.

Your come down is broken through when you hear Seokjin mutter come here and both hands grab at Namjoon, pulling him up his body to kiss him.

To actually kiss him.

Seokjin kissing Namjoon.

After Seokjin just came down Namjoon’s throat.

And Namjoon is kissing him back, open mouth, tongues tangling together.

This is the fucking dream.

You mutter a soft curse, lazily grinning at the sight. Seokjin seems to be the only one who hears you, pulling away from Namjoon’s lips with a grin.

“Happy birthday, Joonie.” Seokjin gives another peck on the lips. Namjoon sighs into the quick kiss, lips faintly chasing the other’s.

“You finally got your kiss, Jin.” You tease, the three of you giggling together. You scoot back a little bit, letting Namjoon get off Seokjin, laying between you both.

“Finally.” He laughs as you throw your leg over Namjoon’s right leg, head ducking under his arm to rest on his chest. Seokjin is quick to mimic the position on the opposite side of Namjoon, who seems too blissfully out of it to care about the teasing.

It’s silent for a moment, but your brain won’t shut up.

And of course, Namjoon knows.

“So should we have that talk now?” Namjoon’s words are quiet against the silence of the three of you in the afterglow moments. Both you and Seokjin make questioning noises, prompting you to look up.

“What talk?”

“Jagi…wanna tell him?”

Your eyes widen in a small panic, but Namjoon’s fingers dance along your spine reassuringly.

You can do this. It’s fine. It’ll be fine.

“Uh, Jin. I don’t want this to be…like Namjoon and myself in a relationship with you as a bonus. I want the three of us to be…”

“A throuple?” Seokjin’s quick to catch on. Namjoon smiles, eyes shut.

“If you want. Clearly, you and Joon have something. You and I have something. Obviously Joon and I have something…”

“I’d be happy to be a boyfriend to you both.”

You can feel Namjoon’s heart pounding under your cheek, your own heart doing the same.

“Yeah? Officially?” You just know the way you’re grinning looks like a child told they’re going to Disneyland, and you don’t fucking care. This is so much better.

“As long as this guy wants it,” his head jerks up to the man lying between you both, arms wrapped around both of you. He’s got a smug smile with his beautiful puffy lips.

“I do.” Namjoon confirms with a sigh, “dunno how I’m gonna deal with both of you when you’re being brats, but…”

“We are never brats.”

“Yeah!” Seokjin lightly hits Namjoon’s stomach, “maybe it’s just that you are a strict spoilsport. Ever think about that?”

“You’re literally being a brat right now.” Namjoon’s monotone voice cracks with just a hint of amusement. You stay silent, curling up closer to Namjoon as they continue to bicker with a smile.

“Wow. Day one of our relationship, and you’re already being so rude. Do you even know who I am? How lucky you are?”

You bite back the laugh, letting yourself fall asleep to the voices of your two boyfriends.

When you wake up the next morning, it’s to the sound of screaming. But not from either of the men you fell asleep with.

“Sorry! Sorry sorry sorry! We’ll just…we’ll be out here! Yoongi, come on!” You know that voice. Why is that voice in Greece?

Oh fuck.

Once the bedroom door closes, you sit up quickly, your head spinning from the sudden position change as you wrap the blanket around your top half. You leap out of bed, trying to find clothes.

“Y/N? Care to explain?” Namjoon’s voice is higher than normal, still sitting upright in the bed.

Fuck.

“This was the wrong way to surprise you.” You throw some shorts, a tank top, some underwear and a bra onto the bed, quickly getting rid of the blanket to change.

“I was supposed to wake up early and let them in and we’d make breakfast and it’d be a whole big birthday thing. But then we…last night…and I just…forgot.”

“You forgot Yoongi and Jimin were going to be joining us in Greece?”

“Don’t even start!” You button the shorts around your waist, throwing the tank top on after. “You forgot your own birthday!”

“He forgot his birthday?” Seokjin makes his appearance from the bathroom, looking as disheveled as you do in his haste to put on clothes. He sits on the bed, toothbrush in his mouth. The only one still naked is Namjoon, who just has a blanket covering his bottom half.

“For like a moment.” The birthday boy shrugs. You cut him off before he can continue.

“Whatever. Jin and I will go set things up. You put some pants on and laze about or something, you birthday grump.”

“Not a birthday grump.”

“I thought you’d be happy with your friends out here with us.”

“I am, Jagi. I am and I love you for it. But they just saw both of my partners naked in bed with me and you know I don’t like others seeing what’s mine.”

You have to remind yourself that Yoongi and Jimin are just outside the door. You cannot tease your boyfriend into fucking you right now.

“Joonie. They’re together. They don’t care about what they see. Yoongi and I are like siblings.”

“He’s still possessive.” Seokjin shrugs, returning to the bathroom to spit out the toothpaste. You swap places with him, quickly brushing your teeth and trying not to look like a complete mess.

Namjoon’s at the door when you leave the bathroom, pants on but no shirt.

Damn him.

You pout. But not for the reason he thinks.

“Thank you for inviting Yoongi and Jimin out here for my birthday, baby.” His voice is softer, hands reaching for your waist.

“I just wanted it to be a fun birthday.”

“It’s been a great birthday so far. I’m sure it’ll get even better. Thank you.” He presses his lips to yours, lips tugging into a smile when you melt against him. When he just barely pulls away, he mumbles “I love you, Jagi.”

“I love you, too.” You sigh against his lips. The sound of something moving on the bed pulls you away, making you laugh when Seokjin appears by you.

“Excuse me, I paid for their flights. Where’s my thank you kiss?”

“Shut up, hyung.” Namjoon rolls his eyes, grabbing Seokjin by the back of the neck and cutting off any sassy responses with a kiss. Seokjin melts into him just like you did, but pushes away after a second.

“Brush your teeth, stinky. You taste like last night. Let’s go, princess.”

Seokjin’s hand grabs yours, pulling you out of the bedroom and into the living room where the two wait.

“So…” Yoongi’s voice trails, eyes set directly on your joined hands.

“What’s going on with you three?” Jimin completes the question for Yoongi, who’s sitting on the couch with him, legs crossed and foot tapping the air.

“We’re uh…together.”

“Did you and Joon break up?”

“Nope.”

“We’re all together now. The three of us.” Seokjin explains further for you.

Both boys sit there, Jimin with an amused, almost shocked expression, and Yoongi of course stone faced. It’s silent until Yoongi finally smiles.

“You’re welcome.” Is all he says, standing up from the couch and heading to the kitchen

“I said it wouldn’t happen. Yoongi said otherwise.” Jimin giggles, bouncing up. “Okay, let’s go make the birthday boy some food!”

“Nope. You’re banned from kitchens, remember?” Yoongi grabs both of Jimin’s wrists before he can reach for any utensil.

“Minnie, help me decorate and let the old men cook.” You call out, ignoring the shocked gasp from your boyfriend.

Jimin sighs, joining you, the other banned one, to help decorate.

Namjoon joins half an hour later, trying to help you and Jimin decorate, only to be banned after he pops a confetti balloon. He tries to help in the kitchen, but Yoongi goes off on him when he tries to cut a vegetable incorrectly.

“I thought you’re supposed to be nice and loving to people on their birthday.” He grumbles from the couch.

Jimin has taken over the decorations, his interior design skills coming in handy to make it look perfect. You are settled on the couch next to Namjoon, curling up in his arms.

“You’re also not supposed to help with your birthday party, silly.” You both laugh, watching the ridiculousness going on in this villa in Greece of all places.

“Thank you again, baby.” Namjoon whispers against your temple, a kiss following after, “This has been an amazing trip.”

“Of course, Joonie. And thank you for being the man I love. Happy birthday.” You look up, smiling before your lips find his, and you feel whole. Jimin says something and Namjoon pulls away to respond. You take a second to look over at the kitchen.

Yoongi’s ranting about how annoying grocery shopping is on the island, but Seokjin’s not paying attention. His eyes are on you and Namjoon, handsome face smiling ear to ear.

You can’t help but smile back.

You have the man you’ve loved for years and the man you know is your soulmate. You don’t need anything else.

159 notes · View notes

effortandmore · 11 months

Text

tuesday moon | knj (18+)

summary: being “just friends” with kim namjoon sucks

pairing: namjoon x f!reader

rating: explicit (18+ please)

genre: fluff, smut

au: university, co-workers to lovers to friends to lovers again (they're oblivious)

warnings: it's mostly fluff i think. they're oblivious. smut: minors should not be interacting/reading, namjoon has a big dick, a lil praise kink, oral sex (f!receiving), penetrative sex, the usual suspects i think. drinking (but not before they sleep together), tae is into new age jazz... and they were roommates!

word count: 7.7k

a/n: so... i had this dream a couple months ago and couldn't get it out of my head, so here you go. thanks, sleep brain. the title is from a neutral milk hotel song (but tbh the '23 album isn't great). thank you to @ugh-yoongi and @the-boy-meets-evil for reading this over. and then for doing it again when i couldn't even find the mistake you told me was there 🙃

read on ao3

You’ve learned a lot in university—which given how much money you’ve spent to be there is a relief. But amongst business classes and writing workshops and statistics, the most important knowledge you’ve gained is that of small things.

Of small things and how they can change your life in unbelievably big ways.

Kim Namjoon isn’t exactly small. But the events that put him right in the middle of your life are. The first day you meet him is a Tuesday. Tuesdays have always been for non-events: for meetings and your least favorite classes… For snagging a coveted dryer on the third floor of the dorm building because Jeongguk saves it for you when he’s finished with his seemingly endless laundry. Tuesdays are for your first real uni friend, Taehyung, to show up to the laundry room unannounced and make you listen to weird new-age jazz on his phone that you hate, but love how much he loves it.

And then your work-study starts. A job in the library is supposed to be easy, has better hours than a lot of the jobs that are available, and pretty much only requires you to understand the Dewey decimal system so you can reshelve things quickly. You can count and read, and those seem to be the only things the head librarian cares about. Cake.

Your first training day is a Tuesday. It’s a rainy afternoon, and in one of the conference rooms in the back of the law floor are you and three other new employees. Right away, it seems like Yoongi, Hoseok, and Namjoon are already friends. They joke and whisper throughout the orientation videos and absolutely make you feel like a fourth wheel. At your first break, Hoseok extends the invitation for you to sit with them when he notices you still sitting by yourself in the back of the room, and it's then that you learn they for sure already knew each other—music majors and all in the same class even though Yoongi is a little older than the other two. They signed up for all the same work-study assignments hoping they’d be placed together, hoping they could have a chance to work on music during slow times at the slowest work-study assignments. Namjoon, though, who has been quiet the whole time, finally speaks up at this.

“Well, I also like books,” he says softly, one side of his mouth turned up in a grin. “So, I guess I had an ulterior motive.”

“Of course you did, Namjoonie,” Hoseok replies.

Yoongi turns to you, explaining, “Namjoon’s a double major. Smartest guy we know. Literature and music.”

You talk more with them after the ice is broken—Yoongi’s a double major, too, math and music. Hoseok raps and does street dancing in his free time, and around the three of them, you feel like you’re woefully underachieving just at life in general.

“What about you?” Namjoon prompts after you get some background on all of them.

“Ah… nothing impressive. Economics major. Just what my parents wanted, you know. But I like books, too. I volunteer at the public library already, but it doesn’t exactly help with tuition.”

“You volunteer?” Namjoon repeats, looking surprised.

“Oh, yeah… It’s no big deal. I just read books to kids sometimes.”

“That’s awesome,” he says, and the look on his face tells you he might actually mean it. Next to him, Yoongi snickers and Hoseok smiles brightly at you.

“Namjoonie here has wanted to volunteer doing park clean up for a while, but Yoongi and I are always dragging him to the studio on the weekends, so he doesn’t have time.”

Namjoon shrugs. “It would be nice to feel like I’m helping, I think.”

“It is,” you agree, sharing a look with him across the table. “The purpose of life is to be useful…” You mumble the quote under your breath, assuming they wouldn’t know what you meant anyway.

“Emerson?” Namjoon asks.

“Oh! Uh… yeah, I mean… That’s what people think, but probably not. It’s most likely from a speech someone else gave when they gave Emerson an award, but most people think it’s him—” you cut yourself off when you notice Namjoon’s eyes gone wide.

“Self Reliance is one of my favorites,” he says, leaning forward, excitement playing in his voice.

“Same! No one ever knows what I’m talking about, but ‘Nothing at last is sacred but the integrity of one’s own mind’ is maybe my whole life philosophy,” you ramble, just happy that someone might finally know what you’re talking about. No one in your economics classes ever shows any interest in philosophy, anyway. Your roommate calls you a nerd every time you bring stuff like this up, and Jeongguk just stares at you with big eyes like he wants to drink every word you're saying but doesn’t understand a drop of it. But Namjoon actually looks… interested in what you’re saying. More than interested, even.

Yoongi elbows Hoseok and smirks. “Namjoon’s in trouble,” he says.

But before you can ask what that means, the head librarian interrupts to tell you it’s time to get back to training. You have to partner up for training to use the library’s reservation and shelving programs, and Namjoon comes right up to you, grinning shyly, and asks if you want to be his partner while his friends whisper on the other side of the room. You know immediately how this is going to go. Or you think you do, anyway.

And you’re right. By the end of the first week of your work study, you’re in Kim Namjoon’s bed.

It’s just like it sounds.

You’re naked, legs bent at the knees and open with his head between them. You noticed his brain first, but it only took that first afternoon to realize that not only was he smart, but stupid hot and kind and sort of funny in the sarcastic way you like, and he seemed to like something about you, too.

On Saturday, you work a slow shift together, both of you using most of the time to catch up on homework, and when it’s over, he asks if you want to come back to his place and keep studying. You agree quickly, but as soon as you get there, you realize you’re both on the same page about being more interested in studying each other than your class work. One thing leads to another, and here you are, moaning into your own palm as he flicks his tongue over your clit in a steady rhythm.

“Namjoon, I–” You’re pathetic, you think, gasping and barely able to make words come out of your mouth, but fuck if he’s not good at this. Better than you’d thought he would be, actually. He came across as a little on the shy side during work, like he might be one of those guys who needs you to tell him where the clit is. Eager to please, but not quite sure how to go about it. Willing to take direction.

He is not that.

“Gonna come, baby? You like my tongue that much?” Namjoon lifts his head to ask, and his lips are slick with you and his voice is deep and his fingers just don’t stop moving… It's so much.

“Yeah, so close…”

At that, Namjoon smirks and ducks his head back down to finish the job. He makes quick work of you, sucking on your clit and twisting one of your nipples with his free hand. The other has two fingers fucking into you in just the right way, just shallow enough to hit your g-spot each time he pushes in.

The orgasm builds fast, pressure from the inside, pressure from the outside… Everything feels so, so good, and you try to tell him so, but all you can do is whimper through it, clenching your thighs around his ears when you come on his tongue and he tries (bless him) to keep licking your core as your knees shake.

“Fuck,” you say on an exhale, arm tossed over your own forehead.

“I’m down,” he teases.

You’re about to say something sarcastic back, but when you lift your arm and look down at him, you lose that train of thought. He looks fucking incredible: flushed, a little sweaty, chin shiny with your orgasm and he’s grinning with those stupid dimples out… How could you not give him everything he wants? Maybe it’s the orgasm talking, the sweet rush of dopamine affecting you when you say, “I want that. Fuck me…” And for emphasis, when he stares at you a little stunned, you add, “Please, Namjoon?”

He only nods, enthusiastically and a little dopey with it, a little like the boy you saw in the library. But when his cock is out—big… like, really big. Why even have a cock that large, really? What’s even the point of that?—he’s smirking and appropriately (you hope) confident again.

“That is…” you look down and make a vague gesture in the direction of his dick, which makes him look down, too.

He shies almost instantly. “Yeah, it’s okay if it’s too much or whatever…”

“No! That’s not what I meant. I just… You look good.” You scoot up so you can have level eye contact. “Want you to fuck me. I can handle it, promise. I want to.”

Namjoon swallows, visibly nervous, but agrees anyway.

You knew it would be fine. Any partner who makes sure to tell you you’re beautiful, who makes sure you come first, who pays attention to your body the way he has for the last couple hours is probably going to keep doing that, you decide. And he does. He’s careful, even though you think it might actually be killing him a little to not move once he’s over halfway inside you. He checks in with you, makes sure the consent is still there, and then when you ask him to “actually fuck me, Namjoon… want your cock… all of you,” he does. And he delivers.

You’re essentially sitting in his lap, his palms spread on your hips as he moves you on his cock and it is… Well, it’s unequivocally the best anyone’s ever fucked you. His lips are on your neck, your breasts, the swell underneath them where they meet your ribcage… He keeps talking to you in his raspy whisper, making sure you feel okay, telling you how good you feel to him. There are times when he gets a little porny, telling you how tight you are (you’re sure a cock that big hasn’t seen anything not tight), and then he says, half out of breath, “Knew you would be a good girl. Knew it from the first time I saw you.” And you didn’t even know you wanted to be a ‘good girl,’ but suddenly you very much do.

Before he comes, he makes sure you do again, too. His thumb finds your clit and his lips are hot against your ear, whispering filth when you tighten around his cock and shudder in his lap. He’s not far behind you, pulling your hips down when he thrusts into you a little harder, sweat beading on his forehead with the effort. He’s quiet when he comes, just a low moan of your name as he stills under you.

After, it’s the small things he does that you like. It’s nice that he doesn’t try and move right away, just runs his hands up and down your back—soothing, almost. The closeness is nice, his head resting against your collarbone while you stroke your fingers through his hair. It feels intimate, more than a first time or a one night stand with your coworker should. But neither of you make a move to change that, so maybe it’s alright.

For now.

You haven’t exactly been the most social university student, but you know how these things are supposed to go. You clean up, you get dressed, you make awkward small talk about your classes or your work study and then you go your separate ways. You go back to your apartment and you don’t talk about what happened. He might look at you like he knows what’s underneath your hoodie next time you see him, but you know it won’t happen again. That’s not how it works. Not for you, anyway.

Kim Namjoon is a good guy, that you’re sure of. He’s a hard worker, he’s smart, he has lots of friends and hobbies and between that and school and work, you know there’s no way he’s looking for a relationship, and you also know he’s going to do his best to let you down easy if he thinks that’s what you’re after.

But, he’s your friend. And your co-worker, and the sex was great, so you want to at least spare him the effort of all that. So, when he gets up to dispose of the condom and find a washcloth, you get dressed quietly, pack your textbooks, and do your best to look mostly put together by the time he comes back.

“So,” you start as he returns to his room, “that was great… Really great, Namjoonie. Thank you.”

He looks… confused. “You’re thanking me for sex?”

“I uh… yes?”

Namjoon gives you a dimpled smile with an eyebrow raised, clearly amused. “Okay… Well, you’re welcome, then. And thank you.” He gives you a teasing bow, and with it, you feel a little relief. Because he’s obviously ready to move forward and this can just be a fun thing that happened and you don’t have to make him worry about letting you down, and you don’t have to worry about how much you fucking like him already. You can just be friends.

The problem, you realize quickly, is that being “just friends” with Kim Namjoon sucks.

It’s like sending your poor, delusional heart through a cheese grater with each of your work-study shifts. It’s swallowing down every dream of happiness when you have to sit next to him at a party and watch him nod along in agreement as Hoseok tells him how hot the new guy in his dance class is. (The guy is hot, with at least a 6-pack, big, pouty lips, and biceps like cannons. So, even you have to agree they have a point.)

Okay, that’s probably dramatic. Incredibly dramatic according to Taehyung and Jeongguk. Which, honestly, says a lot coming from them.

So, you do your best to forget your crush and just be cool about everything. You both make a frankly commendable effort to never talk about what happened between you, and after a few weeks, things don’t feel quite so weird. Namjoon’s probably relieved you never mentioned it again, didn’t expect him to be your boyfriend or anything.

You think you’ve done well.

At one party, halfway through the semester, you meet Namjoon’s friend, Seokjin. He’s quiet at first, polite with a big smile and a nervous laugh. He sticks close to Yoongi and Namjoon, and it doesn’t take long before he’s being shuttled across the large backyard in your direction.

“Hi,” he says simply. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Oh! That’s good… I think?”

“Yah, Namjoonie here—”

“Well, that was great!” Namjoon interjects. “Glad you two finally met. We’re late for something, though. So, bye!” And then he’s pulling Seokjin behind him through the yard in the opposite direction. It’s so weird.

In his protests, you’re pretty sure you hear him say, “You’re ridiculous,” to Namjoon. If you were more sober, you would have recognized it as the first small thing that should have tipped you off.

The second thing happens right before summer break. Your whole group, consisting of your and Namjoon’s friends, are sitting around at lunch discussing everyone’s plans for the summer. Hoseok and Jimin (the hot dancer he wouldn’t shut up about who is now his new boyfriend) are going to a dance clinic on the other side of the country. Jeongguk is going home, promising you he’ll leave you a list of acceptable laundromats in his absence. Seokjin and Taehyung are working—teaching acting classes to teenagers at summer camp.

Yoongi’s got an internship, so he’ll be around, but barely since it’s in the city and your university is a little outside of town. It’s a long subway trip, so he’s got a sublet up there he’s moving into for the summer months.

And then it’s Namjoon’s turn.

“I’m staying. Not on campus, obviously. But I found an apartment and I’m looking for a roommate.” Everyone nods along except Jeongguk, whose eyes dart from Namjoon to you and back several times.

“What about noona?” he finally says, hooking a thumb in your direction. “She’s staying, too.”

“Oh, I don’t think—”

“That’s not a bad idea…”

Namjoon and you look at one another. He’s flushed, and he’s doing that thing he does when he’s nervous where he rubs his throat.

“I’m sure Namjoon has plenty of people in mind already,” you say, trying to give him the out he clearly wants.

“Not exactly,” he mumbles.

“This is perfect!” Seokjin exclaims. “Don’t you think this is perfect, Namjoon?”

You lean over to whisper to Namjoon, “You don’t have to, it’s really alright.” It feels like you’re making him nervous, you can feel his muscles stiffen where you’re touching his arm, and the flush he was sporting is spreading to his neck now.

“Would you even want to?” He asks softly.

You’re not sure, actually. It’s already hard work trying to put your stupid crush out of your mind most days. And now, you only see him a few days a week. Your brain (a logical friend) is telling you that living with him will be terrible for your heart. Your heart isn’t as smart and is pounding faster just thinking about spending more time around your crush. Friend, you correct yourself.

The problem is that only Tae and Jeongguk know about your feelings, and none of them know you and Namjoon have already slept together. So, if you say no, it might be weird. As far as they know, you’re just friends, good friends. Why wouldn’t you want to live with him?

“Yeah,” you reply brightly, swallowing down your nerves, “it’ll be great, Joonie. I can cook and you can help me study for my summer classes.” You’re nodding along as you speak, trying to convince yourself that what you’re saying is true.

“Okay… sure. Roommates,” he says, looking a little stunned.

“Roommates!”

You stick your hand out to shake his. You’re the least sexy person to have ever existed, you decide, as he laughs and shakes your hand.

“It was a terrible idea,” you whine into Taehyung’s lap. “He’s just here… all the time. And sometimes…”

“Yeah?”

“Sometimes he doesn’t wear a shirt!” You slump further into your friend, making what you know are pitiful whining noises into his thighs.

It’s not like you’d go as far as saying moving in with Namjoon for the summer was a mistake. But it wasn’t great. Actually, it was really fucking great, and that was the problem. Or part of the problem anyway.

The apartment is nice—nicer than you’d envisioned when he told you about it. Not too big, but on the corner of the building so you got nice light throughout the day. You each have your own bedroom (thank god) and they aren’t large, but Namjoon gave you the one with the room for a chair by the window, even though you knew he’d been planning to write lyrics there. As promised, you cook for both of you in your small kitchen and Namjoon helps you with your summer classes.

With all of your friends gone or busy, you two don’t see much of them, and it feels like you build your own little world: late nights listening to the records he brings home, eating simple meals by the window and complaining that you don’t have a balcony, getting dragged out on bike rides when the sun falls and it’s cool enough outside, hunched together on the floor of the living room scrolling webtoons and drinking one too many cheap beers, and the worst (best) of all—falling asleep on the couch together before you wake up with a jolt realizing your head is on him and it’s far, far too much to realize his chest is in your face… so you scramble to your room like a coward and don’t fall back asleep, too keyed up.

Seokjin, when you do see him, adds in more and more “old married couple” jokes as the summer goes on. He makes fun of your chore lists on the fridge, cutely decorated with whatever doodle has been occupying Namjoon’s mind that week.

(Jin doesn’t even know that when all the chores are done, you save the little post-it notes, snatching them off the fridge when Namjoon’s not around or not paying attention, and putting them carefully into a little box in your desk drawer with all the other scraps and mementos of your friendship you’ve kept over the almost-year you’ve known him.)

Jin teases you when he lets himself in, late in the mornings, and finds the two of you still asleep, tumbled atop each other on the floor, record-listening session gone too late, the needle still digging into invisible grooves at the center.

It’s not his fault it doesn’t feel like a joke to you, he doesn’t know that you feel like the 45 and all of the jokes and all of Namjoon’s smiles and all of the little notes he leaves and the way he blushes when you come out of the bathroom in your robe like maybe maybe there’s just a chance you’re not the only one still thinking about that one time… that those are the needles, and you’re here, spinning in place while they poke and prod and dig for a melody that just isn’t there.

Namjoon, to his credit, is the very definition of a good friend and roommate. He does all the little things. He brings you breakfast sometimes when he’s been out all night and knows you’ll be waking up shortly after he comes home. He cleans, so that even though he’s got so much stuff (endless records and books and figurines and things he just thought were cute), your apartment never feels dirty, just lived-in and homey and a little cluttered. Buys toothpaste when you forget—before you forget, even. Puts your favorite flavor of soju in the fridge every week even though he hates it.

And it’s not just what he does at home (your home. with him. which you try not to think about because the way the thought makes your heart swell and almost burst is dangerous and confusing, and you hate that you can’t stop thinking about it entirely.) he takes you out, too. It helps that he’s more social than you: gets you outside in the real world between classes and studying. Makes sure you touch grass. Does stupid dances with you to bad music at worse clubs. Buys you hotteok at 2am because he knows you want it even though you won’t admit it so he says both pieces are for him and lets you argue that it’s bad for his heart and you’re willing to take one off his hands just for the sake of his health… because you care for him.

You don’t let yourself think about the way it seems like he flushes and his eyes twinkle a little when you say that. It’s got to be in your imagination.

He doesn’t know that each time he goes out of his way to do something nice for you hurts a little. Doesn’t know that each time he’s a touch too sweet, you wish you’d stayed that one time. Can’t possibly relate to the way you wish that one night turned into a date turned into something more, maybe.

And you know he can’t relate, because he’s started doing this thing while you’ve been living together: talking about someone. Someone that he likes.

It’s devastating and you try so hard not to cry on the nights when it comes up. You succeed in never crying in front of him, but if you drip snot onto your pillow trying to hold back your sobs once you’re alone in your room, he doesn’t have to know.

You don’t know who she is, but you’ve overheard Namjoon on the phone with Yoongi talking about her. She sounds great, if Namjoon’s probably clouded judgment is any indication. He thinks she’s smart and talented, says she sells herself short and he thinks she’s as close to perfect as anyone on the planet. He doesn’t go out without you too often, and you don’t ask where he’s been if he doesn’t offer, but he must be spending time with her because you catch him on a video call with Hoseok saying she can cook and she’s brilliant and she’s everything he’s ever wanted.

She also sounds like she doesn’t know what she’s got, because Namjoon’s convinced she doesn’t like him back and that she’s out of his league—you finally ascertain that the reason he’s been going to the gym more was because one time she said she thought another guy had nice biceps and he knows they were bigger than his.

One time, you come home late, catching Tae at a bar near campus after he’s done with classes and drinking a little too much. You’re not drunk, but you’re in that warm space past sober where everything is a little softer and funnier and Namjoon looks dangerously pretty sitting at his desk with headphones on working on a song.

You plop on his bed, as you do now, and wait for him to notice you’re there. It doesn’t take long.

“Hey,” he says as he pulls off the headphones. He’s giving you the double-dimple smile, which is especially effective when you’re tipsy like this. Throws you more off-kilter than another cocktail would have. “Have fun with Tae?”

“Hmm… yeah.” You lay back on his bed and don’t let yourself worry about your shirt riding up or your hair spilling around you in a haystack. It’s just Namjoon, and you know he doesn’t think about you like that, know he’s already seen you with more skin showing, hair messier.

“Need me to get you some water?”

“No,” you sit up on your elbows, “s’okay. Didn’t drink too much. What’re you working on?”

Namjoon is staring right at you, something indiscernible on his face. He looks almost like he’s in pain or something. “You alright?”

He shakes his head and looks embarrassed. You have no idea why. “Yeah, fine… I’m fine. Just a song, nothing too special.”

“Can I hear it?”

“It’s personal… Kind of silly. It’s not done yet… I’m not sure you’d like it,” he says.

“I like everything you make.” It comes out too honest, you’re not sober enough to hide the tenderness in your voice, to wrap it in something less vulnerable.

There’s no response to that, and you worry you’ve given too much away for a split second before he unplugs his headphones and hits play on the song. And if you thought the sight of him working, bathed in moonlight and neon, was beautiful, this song is truly something else.

It’s lovely—sweeping melody and building building with layers until it crashes all around you, his voice low and quick, persistent with words of love. It’s a love song disguised as wordplay, or maybe the other way around. It’s him in music: smart and beautiful and selfless and breathtaking… You want to keep it, you want it to be yours, you want the words to be about you or for you or just written with you in the back of his mind. It’s too much, it’s so so beautiful, and you know it’s about her. It’s for her. She’s the one who has his attention and who gets his words and it makes you want to crawl under your blankets and never come out like a petulant child.

You’re laying down again, so you don’t know what he’s looking at as you listen. When it ends, you’re asking the question even though you don’t want the answer, even though him saying it will make it too real. “Is it about her?” you whisper.

“Yeah,” he answers, just as quietly. “It’s about her.”

You sit up quick, make sure you’re turned away from him so he can’t see the tears that are beginning to drip down your cheeks.

“It’s pretty,” you say as you head toward the door, hopefully not giving yourself away, not looking back in his direction. “Really pretty. She’s lucky, Namjoonie.”

You don’t see the confusion on his face as your bedroom door closes behind you. You don’t hear him tell you goodnight in a small, concerned voice.

After song-gate, you do your best to put a brave face on and move forward. It’s more for him than you, you have to tell yourself. Because you, your heart, you don’t want to let him go, can’t stand the idea of watching him be happy with someone else. But you, Kim Namjoon’s best friend, you want nothing more than for him to be happy, even if it’s not with you. And it’s hard, but for the most part, you let that version of you win.

You give him broad smiles and you keep not asking where he’s going when he leaves without you. You try really hard not to overhear his calls with Hoseok and Yoongi and when you do, you give him a ridiculous double-thumbs up and tell him to go for it, that she’d be a fool to turn him down. You’re pretty sure you’re the only one who ends up looking foolish in that moment though, even if you really, truly mean it.

One day (of course it’s a Tuesday), you come home from class, and you’re sorting through the mail when you spot a card on the counter that wasn’t there in the morning. Namjoon must’ve left it when he came home, you can hear the shower running from down the hall. It’s rare he beats you home on Tuesdays, always saying he’s got “something” to do “across town” and you just assume it’s with her, so you don’t ask.

But what’s more interesting than him being home early is what the card is: a temporary driver license issued to one Kim Namjoon. It’s got a picture of him, dimples out and glasses on, dated that day. You hadn’t even known he’d taken the class or the tests. You wonder why he wouldn’t tell you… It’s a big deal to him—he’d always said he didn’t need it, liked taking the bus and the metro. Thought cars were bad for the planet and that there were too many of them in the city anyway. But here’s the card, proof that for some reason he thought it was time for a change.

“Oh! You… I didn’t mean for you to find that…”

You look up. Namjoon’s standing by the couch, watching you examine his license, wrapped in a towel because if there’s a god, he only wants you to suffer.

“You got your license?”

“Ah… the temporary one, yeah. Still need to take the road test.”

He seems nervous, fidgeting with the blanket on the back of the sofa. You don’t know why he’d be nervous, it’s cool, you think. One more thing to add to the seemingly endless list of things Namjoon can do.

“Proud of you, Namjoonie. But… why? I thought you didn’t want to drive.”

He shrugs. “Don’t really, but… I just thought… Well, I thought if I got up the nerve to ask someone on a date, it would be nice to drive her. Just once or twice. Make it special, I guess. It’s probably stupid, but I thought y—” He cuts himself off and pauses. Looks out the window and scrunches his forehead up like he’s scolding himself. “I thought she might like that,” he says, finally.

“Did she tell you to get a license?” You’re sure you sound as outraged as you feel when you ask.

“No! She wouldn’t… No. I just wanted to try.”

“Okay. Okay, good. You shouldn’t change yourself for anyone, Joonie.” And then you do that thing again, where you say too much, where it comes out too fond. “You’re more than enough just the way you are. If she doesn’t know that, she’s not good enough for you.”

Namjoon smiles softly. “I’m starting to think she does,” he says.

And the look on his face… It’s happiness and warmth and fuck you wish it was for you. Those nagging feelings of wanting more more more from him are welling up in your chest. “Good,” you say, still too tender as you set the card in his palm and scoot past him to your room, mail forgotten. “That’s the very least of what you deserve.”

Later that night, you’ve tucked the soft and vulnerable parts of you back inside, showered, ordered food, and sent Namjoon down to pick it up with a stop at the convenience store for soju and beer. You can do this, you tell yourself in the mirror, psyching yourself up for the first time you both will hang out with all your friends in months.

The summer is drawing to an end. Seokjin and Taehyung are done teaching, Jimin and Hoseok got back over the weekend, Yoongi’s internship ended the week prior, and Jeongguk is back from his visit home, everyone returning in time to buy books and settle in for the new semester.

You and Namjoon have decided to keep the apartment: close enough to campus, affordable enough, and you both bashfully agreed you liked living together, an arrangement sealed with the secret handshake greeting from a drama you’d watched together over the summer. So, you have the biggest apartment out of all your friends (which doesn’t say much), and they’ve all decided in your group chat that the group “welcome home” party would take place in your living room.

Seokjin and Taehyung arrive first, Jeongguk in tow. They’re pouring through your door play-fighting and laughing and for a minute, you forget your crush on your roommate, you forget he’s pining after someone else, and you just feel so much joy that your friends are back as they pull you into a crushing group hug.

“We brought wine,” Seokjin says.

“Ew!” (A twin chorus from you and Jeongguk).

“Fine, you two have your cheap soju and leave the good stuff for the rest of us.”

“Hyung, that bottle was only six—”

“Shh! Have some respect!” Seokjin says, slapping in the air in Tae’s general direction.

They file into the kitchen to drop off snacks and cheap wine while you leave to dig around in Namjoon’s room for some records to play. It’s a hassle, finding enough that you like and then having to flip them every fifteen minutes, so you finally give up and resign yourself to just playing a playlist off your phone. Or anyone’s phone except Taehyung’s anyway, because “experimental jazz night” was not a hit last time he suckered you all into it.

When you come back down the hall, your kitchen is suspiciously quiet. There is whispering and you can’t hear what they’re saying but you know anytime Jeongguk and Seokjin are colluding that it means trouble.

“What’s going on in here?” You ask as you make it back to the kitchen.

The three of them are reading the notes on your fridge and they all hop around immediately. Jeongguk and Taehyung have the decency to look guilty, but Seokjin just looks like he’s unearthed the lost city or something.

“What are these?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

“Our shopping list? Chore list?”

Seokjin grins. “No, not those… These.” He plucks a sticky off the fridge and starts reading it aloud.

“...And greet the all auspicious day,

Whose privilege permits my song—”

You can feel your face like a wildfire, hot and persistent, as you snatch the piece of paper out of his hand and tuck it in your pocket.

“That’s nothing. Just a poem”

“That’s not nothing, that’s a love poem.”

“We just leave each other quotes sometimes,” you mutter, fussing around the kitchen, opening the bags of snacks and setting them on the counter. “It’s no big deal. Just a small thing.”

Jeongguk looks at you with wide eyes. “And you sometimes leave each other love poems?” he asks cautiously.

“I guess… It’s whatever,” you say.

“What’s whatever?” Hoseok’s bright voice drifts into the room. You snap your head up to see that he’s with Jimin, and they’re followed in by Yoongi and Namjoon, carrying all the food and drinks.

“Namjoon hyung and Noona leave each other love notes on the fridge!” Jeongguk says brightly. “It’s so cute.”

Your jaw actually drops, and you see in your periphery, Namjoon’s is doing the same.

“They’re not love notes!” You protest.

“They’re poems,” Namjoon adds with indignance.

“Besides,” you add, “he’s got a girlfriend or whatever.” You know you sound a little annoyed, and you don’t want to, but it’s worth it if it gets them off your backs.

“Wait, what?” Yoongi finally joins the conversation, peeking his head around the corner into the kitchen.

Six pairs of eyes are on you, and one (Namjoon’s) is anywhere but. You get the offputting feeling that something is happening, but you don’t know what. That the boys staring at you know something you don’t.

“Namjoonie… He’s got a girl he likes. So, they’re not love notes. They’re just quotes we like.”

Yoongi stares at you like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing, and then Hoseok says, “Oh my god, they are that bad.”

Seokjin nods. “The worst, actually.”

“What? What is going on?” You ask. The question is directed at anyone, but you’re looking straight at Namjoon, who still won’t look at you.

“I’m just gonna open some soju,” Jimin says. “Come on, guys.”

The statement is clearly directed at Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jeongguk, who are all still huddled by the fridge, clearly amused at whatever is unfolding in your kitchen. One by one, they file out. Namjoon tries to follow them, but Yoongi unceremoniously shoves him back into the kitchen with a hissed, “I don’t think so, Namjoon.”

“I’m so confused,” you say quietly. Namjoon finally lifts his gaze to meet yours, and he looks so so nervous. Just like the day you’d agreed to be roommates. You have no idea why, because you’d never do anything to make him feel that way, not on purpose. “Is this about her? I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have—”

“No! I mean… yeah, it’s about her. Or you, I guess?”

“Me?”

Namjoon nods. He takes a deep breath and shoves his hands in his pockets. “You. You and her.”

“I don’t even know her, Namjoonie.”

He sighs. “You are her.”

You’re every meme of confused people trying to do math. You think you probably have a literal question mark above your head. You think you heard him right but… but there’s no way that it’s what he meant.

“What?”

Namjoon looks like it’s almost painful to keep speaking, also a little apologetic. “I like you,” he says, shrugging. “I like you so much, and I’m a dick for agreeing to be your roommate when I felt that way, and I thought after that one time… Well, I thought maybe you needed more and that’s why it never happened again, so I started going to the gym more and trying to… I don’t know. Be more?” He runs a hand through his hair and slumps against the counter. “I just like you so much and I wanted you to like me, too. But I—”

“You like me?”

“Oh, fuck, so much.” It’s almost out like a breath, floats through the space between the two of you, waves itself in front of your face.

“That’s why you thought it would be weird to be roommates…” you say, pieces clicking together.

“Yeah,” Namjoon agrees. “And why I tried to get biceps like Jimin and why I leave you love notes on the fridge, and why I wrote you a whole song about how incredible you are, how you make me feel, and how much I want you even though you don’t want me back…”

“Biceps like Jimin?”

“You said they were nice…”

“Oh my god.” Little details of the past few months since you slept together all start floating around in your head and you see it so clearly now, it all starts to make sense, all the silly little things Namjoon does for you because it’s you, because he likes you… and oh no…

“Namjoon.”

“Yeah?” He’s painfully cute like this—nervous and a little shy, hair falling into his eyes like it can protect him from looking right at you.

You take a couple of steps closer to him. “I like you, too.”

“You what?”

“I like you, too. Just the way you are. I like all the nice small things you do for me, I like how you think, I like how you smell like soap all the time ‘cause you take a million showers… I like living with you… I like your records and your books and… And it’s stupid probably, but I save all your doodles like a teenager would ‘cause I just like you so fucking much… And I’m the bad friend, the one who moved in with you even though I liked you like this. I thought I would get over it. I thought… I don’t know. I thought after we slept together you just wanted to be friends, so I’ve been trying so hard, but…”

“It’s awful,” he says, a giant grin on his face as he watches you stumble through your confession. “I thought you just wanted to be friends, too. You left before I could ask you to stay.”

“Yeah, it is awful. Liked you since that first day in the library.”

“Fuck, me too. We’re so ridiculous.”

“Jin was right, we’re the worst,” you whisper.

“You are!” You hear Jin call from the living room.

You let your head fall forward and bury it in Namjoon’s chest as he wraps an arm (with a perfectly sized bicep, you note, reminding yourself to tell him later) around you and laughs into your hair.

“You’re listening to us?” you protest.

“Hard not to,” Yoongi answers, “small apartment.”

“You fucked?!” Hoseok yells.

“Oh my god,” you moan into Namjoon’s shirt.

“I bet they made love,” you hear a dreamy-voiced Jimin chime in.

You can feel Namjoon’s laugh rumble through his chest against your ear. It’s the best feeling you’ve felt in months.

“So,” you start, pulling your head off his chest, but letting him slide his arm down yours until you’re loosely holding hands. “What now?”

“Well, we should probably talk.”

You peek around him to see your friends all staring at you. “Maybe later?” you ask.

“Later is good.” Namjoon smiles so so big. You love knowing that you’re the one making him feel happy, you think you’re a little ridiculous for being jealous of some other non-existent girl this whole time.

“We like each other,” you say, still a little in shock.

“We do.”

Then, because you’re you, and you have not ever once been cool in front of Kim Namjoon, you lift your palm up. And because he’s him, and now you know he probably thinks he has never once been cool around you, he gives you a high five, his palm connecting with yours and then lingering there while you look at each other and you try not to lift up on your toes and kiss the shit out of him.

“Did they just high five?” Hoseok asks, incredulous.

“They’re so weird. Do you remember when they shook hands on being roommates when it was so obvious they wanted to jump each other on the couch? They probably kissed no tongue and called it sex,” Seokjin says, unhelpfully.

“Hey!” you shout. “We can hear you!”

“The sex was really great, for your information,” Namjoon says, and your face heats immediately.

“It was,” you agree, if for no other reason than it really really was. And you want to make Seokjin as uncomfortable as possible. “Namjoon really knows wh—”

“This is going to be even worse than them being oblivious, isn’t it?” Yoongi asks no one in particular, cutting you off.

But that night after your friends leave, and you do get the chance to kiss Namjoon again, who is now not only your roommate, but your boyfriend, you know Yoongi couldn’t have been more wrong. This is infinitely better than being oblivious to Namjoon's feelings.

“What do you see in me?” he says into the ceiling, sweaty and a little hazy post-orgasm, after you’d made sure to seal your new arrangement properly. No high fives, no handshakes, just long kisses and nervous touches turning more sure, Namjoon making sure to whisper into your skin how much he cares for you, how sexy he thinks you are, how long he’s waited to have you again like this…

(And you returning those words, moving your hips in slow circles in his lap, fingernails trailing across his shoulders as you tell him how good he is, how gorgeous he looks, how his biceps are the exact right size for you to squeeze—which makes him laugh while he fucks you, and if that’s not the best thing you’ll ever see in your life, you’re not sure what is...)

You lace your fingers with his and turn to him, thinking about all the things you love about him, how all those pieces layer together to make something so big that it seems to take up your whole heart. “I like all the small things that make you, you.”

And he kisses you as a reply, lips soft and sweet on yours, and you decide that from now on, Tuesdays are for kissing your boyfriend in the moonlight and making sure he knows exactly how much you like him so that neither of you are ever unsure again.

#namjoon fic #namjoon smut #namjoon imagine #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon fanfiction #knj x reader #kvanity #btshoneyhive #bts smut #bts fluff #bts writing #bts fanfic #bts imagines

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kiestrokes · 7 months

Text

Anti-Hero | NSFW

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader/You/Yn Rating: NSFW! Mature (18+) Minors DNI. Word Count: 1816 Genre: smut, porn without plot, established relationship, one-shot. Warnings: camping, bf/gf dynamics, use of the Joon's favorite word; baby.

Sexually Explicit Content: orgasm control, intercourse (penis in vagina), camping sex, soft dom if you squint really hard, edging, morning sex, semi-public sex.

Summary: You and your partner, Kim Namjoon are off in the woods on a secluded autumnal camping trip. The morning temperatures are frigid, but that doesn't stop Namjoon from stripping you down and warming you up.

🗝️ Note: the first repost😬Which wouldn't have happened if I hadn't asked @chans-room ily bby, thank you for being the best drift partner 🖤 Happy Joonie day!

Disclaimers: This is a work of fiction; I do not own any of the idols depicted in this story.

Read it on Ao3!

In the midst of your dream, you’re roused by the feel of large hands, hands that don’t belong to you slipping over your bare stomach.

“Joon?” Groggily you turn in your partner's arms so that your back is on the soft mat of the tent floor.

“Baby, I need you.” Namjoon breathes low, in his morning baritone. Pressing your body back into his, the erection he’s sporting despite the frigid October temperature seeking the cleft of your ass.

You know what that means and whine, “Joonie it’s too cold.”

He lets out a huff of laughter already moving around beneath the covers to slot himself between your legs. You gasp out from the shuffle of cold air and his clothed arousal pressing firmly into your core.

Namjoon looks down at your now, disgruntled face, affectionately. Blankets wrapped across his shoulders like a cape, hovering above you like some sexual superhero. Hands slipping to your face as he leans down to brush a kiss against your lips.

“You’ll warm up quickly, I promise.” He whispers into your ear, teeth nibbling the top of its curve before swirling his tongue inside.

A motion he knows makes your nipples instantly hard. You can’t push him away now, and morning sex is your favorite. Combined with the nips and kisses he’s now laying across your neck and collarbone you’re already warming up to the idea.

With a pleased sigh your hands tangle themselves in his thick hair, tugging with enough force that he understands you want his lips back on yours. Tongue ready to greet his, Namjoon melts into your mouth with a groan. His hips rutting into your pelvis and hands seeking your breasts under the many layers of clothing.

“Baby, I need your pants off now.” Namjoon breaks the kiss, panting into your neck. He begins placing some firm kisses across the column of your throat, before sitting back on his calves to survey you with darkened eyes. “I just need to feel my skin on yours.” He groans, a large hand stroking up your bare stomach again. Before his fingers curl around the waistband of his sweats and begin to slide them down his toned thighs.

Your eyes follow the movement, his thighs were arguably your favorite physical asset of his. Namjoon’s ears tint at the tips under your blatant stare. It didn’t matter how many times the two of you were together intimately, he couldn’t get over your very obvious, non-verbal praise of his body. The way you stared at his body with parted lips, how your legs opened up to him subtly, and the way your pupils engulfed the beautiful color of your irises. His favorite part, was the shameless smile you just assaulted him with when you caught him watching you admire him.

“Baby,” Namjoon groaned a hand moving to tug himself free as he leaned down to kiss your lips. Giving his length a few pumps, knuckles grazing your stomach at the movement. “If you don’t take your pants off, I’m going to rip them off.”

“Okay! Okay.” You let out a huff of laughter tinged with sexual frustration.

You start to tug your fleece-lined leggings off but are instantly met with some difficulty, Namjoon is quick to assist his dimples deepening into a smile. He pulls the leggings and socks free from their hang-up on your ankles, tossing them against the tent wall with the same urgency. His hands come up to spread your knees open with a low moan, causing your lips to spread into an inscrutable smile at his feral praise. Your hips bow suddenly when he dips two fingers inside your heat to find you already dripping with arousal.

“Someone’s a liar.” He raises one eyebrow at you, lips parted and tongue teasing you behind his teeth.

“I wasn’t lying! Just cold.” You rub at the goosebumps that have erupted on your thighs for emphasis.

Namjoon runs a large, warm hand up the outside of your thigh as he settles into you. Gasping out at the weight of him heavy between your hips. You roll your hips into him just slightly, hoping to catch his erection at your entrance. Namjoon’s jaw clenches at your movement, head turning to the side and eyes pinching shut. “Baby.” He warns. Mentally restraining himself not to ram into you, as he had been waiting for you to wake up for the last hour.

“Joon.” You beg, fingertips biting at his bare back under his loose sweatshirt to bring him closer. He nuzzles into your neck, forever a mix of soft affection trapped inside one giant body.

“You don’t want a little more foreplay?” Namjoon rasps, as his teeth recapture your earlobe.

“Joonie, you can kiss my neck while you fuck me.” You whine, hips rubbing into his restlessly.

Namjoon growls, before shifting his hips to line his erection up against your plush core. You roll your hips up to meet him, his eyes pop up to yours as he enters you slowly but fully. Watching one another's faces for a mirrored reaction of parted lips and hooded eyes as he sank completely into you. His hips established a slow, but steady rhythm right away.

“Fuck.” Your cheeks warm, as your entire body begins to heat up.

Namjoon slants his eyes at you, his large body pressing into yours again and again. Pushing soft grunts and moans out of you as his toned hips pump forward at a taunting pace. His long arms braced beside your hips to keep the angle agonizingly deep.

“Joonie!” You cry softly as he strokes the sensitive membranes at the front wall of your cunt greedily.

Namjoon huffs a smirk at your reactions, lowering himself entirely onto your body, his arms slipping underneath your shoulders.

“Namjoon.” You breathe warmly gathering him to you for a kiss as his strokes lengthen to an almost languid pace, touching all of your insides firmly.

He hums low into the back of your throat as your sheath tightens around his dick, and you take the opportunity to suck his tongue into your mouth. Namjoon’s body shudders at your motion, feeling the tug on his tongue shooting arousal straight to his balls. He breaks the kiss with a loud moan, eyes glaring into your mischievous ones.

“I should have never told you what that does to me.” He grumbled as he rammed into you suddenly, holding himself firmly at your entrance, your body squeezing him in protest. You gasped out, nails biting into his arms as he utilized your weakness against you. The way the thickened base of his cock spread you open deliciously and the pressure of his hold began activating your deepest climax. “That’s it, baby, take all of me.” Namjoon breathed, as he regarded you with slanted eyes, delicately pressing harder into you.

“Fuck!” You slapped a hand over your mouth, your body whipping briefly against the mat as your muscles began to coil on themselves. “Want me to move?” Namjoon asked, softening.

Your fucked out gazed met his, “Fuck me Joonie.”

He let out a groan before snapping his hips out and quickly back in, earning a half-vocalized scream from you.

“Namjoon,” You whimpered, hands moving to cup his bare ass.

“Ah, fuck baby! See what you do to me?” Namjoon huffed, slamming tirelessly into you. Dark strands of hair started to stick on his dampening forehead.

“Ohhh! Fuck-k.” You stuttered out as the tension between your hips began to build quicker than before.

“Not yet, baby.” Namjoon switched up his thrusting, sinking back onto his knees to swirl his hips stomach clenching circles that sent your head lolling back into the pillow. “Look at me, baby.”

Eyebrows pinched together in pleasure you lifted your head, lips parting at the sight of his hips rolling between your thighs. He knew what he did to you, exactly how to manipulate your body to give you both the highest range of pleasure and you couldn’t complain.

“Take your shirt off.” You bit out between labored breaths. Namjoon shot you his wide, dimpled grin before tugging his sweatshirt and undershirt off collectively by the collar. “Oh, just look at you.” You moaned, hands seeking purchase on the swells of his chest.

Namjoon let out a raspy laugh as he began thrusting into you again, “they’re all yours baby, I’m all yours.”

“All mine.” You moaned as a particular thrust earned Namjoon a burst of arousal from your cervix. Giving his pecs a squeeze you began to quicken the rock of your hips in hopes of Namjoon matching your pace, chasing the high that was just out of reach.

“Baby.” Namjoon moans as you squirm beneath him, the extra wetness nearly sending him over.

“Ahh fuck, Joona. So close already.” You bite your lip as your insides start to seize.

“Oooh, not yet.” Namjoon’s head whips to the side again and you hear him take a deep inhale through his nose in an attempt to ward off his own orgasm.

“Joonie!” Your hips buck desperately into his as you threaten to spill over.

“Fuck it.” Namjoon lets loose, in a way he has only done a handful of times out of fear of hurting you. His powerful body working into yours vigorously.

“Joon!” You cannot hold back any longer and your body succumbs to pleasure-racked tremors, incoherent cries falling from your lips. “Oh fuck, I’m -ahhh.”

“God-” he thrusts in entirely, filling you up with a mind-bursting stretch and retreating with a swirl of his hips “fucking-” another thrust “damn!” Namjoon’s hips still on his final moan as he empties into you, the aftershocks of your orgasm squeezing his pulsing cock through it.

You let out an enamored laugh as he crumbles into you, hands rubbing up his damp back as the slick on his chest dampens the front of your sweatshirt.

“That was a hell of a good morning, Namjoona.” You sigh deeply, every corner of your body warmed and malleable in its post-climax glow.

His head lazily raises to meet your eyes, “I’d say that is the only way you should be woken up in the morning.”

With a laugh, you pull his lips to yours for a deep kiss.

"What are you laughing about?" His voice vibrates against your lips, as you feel his pinching up in a smirk.

"You looked like a superhero with the blankets wrapped around your shoulders when you first woke me." Your eyes gaze into his warmly.

He quirked a single brow at you, "I'd say I am definitely the anti-hero of this story, baby." You let out a squeal as he buries his stubbled chin into the sensitive spot of your neck. Recapturing his lips with an echoed moan as you both feel him shift inside of you, stiffening for round two.

"You can be my anti-hero any day, Kim Namjoon."

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hoseoksluna · 3 months

Text

STORY | knj

pairing: soft dom!namjoon x reader

genre: smut

word count: 7.8k

summary: yours and namjoon’s story is a bit more perverted than traditional.

warnings: serious big dick namjoon, rough touches, hair pulling, use of pet names and titles, dom/sub dynamics, horny namjoon can't help but palm himself:(, desperation, masturbation, spanking, praising, tit slapping, nipple play, teasing, oc and namjoon not being comfortable with certain practices, playful orgasm denial, oral sex (m. and f. receiving), rimming && ass play :3, cum eating yum yum, tit fucking, orgasm countdown fuck

note: smut is so fucking difficult to write but i loved every second of it. i love writing about namjoon, he just makes me feel so safe. this is purely my fantasy with him and i'll probably dream about this for a long, long time. please, take your time reading this as it's pretty long. i hope you enjoy it and that it makes you dream like it made me dream. as always, let me know what you think in the comments, like the post and if you want to—reblog, but i won't pressure you angels <3. love you guys so much, thank you for all the love. kisses!

side note: i miss namjoon and i wish he were here. all i can do is watch his lives and pretend he never left for the military.

Namjoon makes himself comfortable on the wooden chair before you.

The scene is set. Like a mermaid bathing in the sun, you rest your elbows on the cold rim of the ivory bathtub. Small surges of violet-tinted water, perfumed with your scent, blanket your body in a thin layer of glittery sheen. They kiss the tiger stripes along the curve of your bottom as it rolls over, passing by the dip in the small of your waist, breathing in your patchouli fragrance in greeting. The bath bomb, cornered by your knees, sizzles and spins, the width of the tub allowing your form to float like a little fish in the open sea as copiously as you please.

A gift from your loving boyfriend. Both the clawfoot, and the bath bomb.

The scene expands. Your Eric slouches in his seat, balancing his greatest and most stellar possession on top of his lap with one hand while he runs the other through his silver mane. He fits perfectly in the picturesqueness of the background. Soft orange and chocolate tiles zig zag behind his back, transposing him momentarily into a sunlit illustration, where he rests in the shade of a palm tree on a faraway beach. Reads the book to pass the time as he waits for you to emerge from the waters. Sets it down on his lap as soon as his gaze catches yours. Periwinkle clams for a bra, panties thin and translucent from the oncoming waves, you rest your front on the sand. He smiles down at you and you know for a fact you won’t be able to get on your feet. Might have to learn how to walk, too.

You keep this picture in your heart. Mentally, you rip out the page. Fold it and tuck it somewhere within you to keep it safe.

Legs outstretched by the sides of the tub, clad in slacks in the muted color of a persimmon, it’s almost as though you’re propped on his lap. Sporting a simple white button-down, sleeves rolled, you’re close enough to touch the material if you so much as wished so. From his angle, Namjoon sees nothing but the roundness of your eyes through the brownish rims of his glasses, hair unkempt in their dampness as the short paper thin layers frame your flushed face in such a celestial way. If he were to lean over, it’d be a different kind of book.

The one in the clasp of his hand isn’t a tale as old as time.

It’s one of your favorites. An existential story that ridicules the traditional. A transfusion of liveness to a certain forgotten room of your heart. The unlit one while the others brim with sunlight, with the golden sepia projection of the contents of the fairytales you love so much made into stop motion. A coloring book of some sort, hues fitting into the lines by your helping hand—the attention of your eyes.

Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka. The book that sweeps away all those cobwebs in that chamber. Makes it less lonely.

It’s all you had talked about on your dates when you and Namjoon first started dating, having been reading it at the time. You had confided in him that the writer was the only person who understood you without ever learning your name, without familiarizing himself with the subtleties of your calamitous life.

No one has ever shared something so vulnerable with him, especially not on the first date. Not that he’d gone on many, but the few that fell into his grasp were hell to get through. Insufferable, to say the least. Absolutely superficial.

He went home in the rain thinking of you. Not for boyish reasons. But for reasons of literary character, of melancholy nature that squeezed his long-unexpressed heart in perpetuating intervals too consistent for his liking. Filled it with a nectar bubbling with a newly blooming love for books, with a sudden longing to be found within the words. His body decided for him that it was yours. Yours to teach again how to read between the lines.

The scene breaks out of the margins on the page.

“Is the water warm enough?”

The idea constructed by his own geniality, it’s by his will that you’re basking in your bare femininity before his eyes. Idleness lingered in the living room between the pair of you, the flimsy curtain by your balcony lifting and falling in a little dance as the cold air perfused the place with the drowsiness of winter. Pulling his eyes away from the TV to sink a soft kiss into your hair, Namjoon muttered into your ear: “How about I draw you a bath and read to you for a little bit?”

You said nothing. The click of your phone turning off and your hasty movements to untangle yourself from the warmth of his limbs answered him for you. Leaving your clothes as a trail for him to follow, you gave him a glimpse of your ass, arched and pointed in the draft before you ran away. Before he scolded you with his index finger like a father, raising to his feet to close the balcony door.

In two seconds he joined you in the bathroom. Leaned against the doorframe as you circled a pink roll-on lip oil you’ve been obsessed with lately around the perimeters of your lips. The one that makes them look bigger, juicier. That makes them more fun to kiss and toy with. The one that leaves his length sticky once playtime is over. You seem to cast aside little trinkets of yourself for him to collect everywhere you go.

Tits pushed towards each other while you slightly bent over the vanity sink, tapping the excess into the fullness of your mouth, Namjoon palmed himself. The tiredness from work earlier weakened his self-control to the point of unrestrained indulgence. And the plumpness of your ass just encouraged it.

You fluffed your hair and Namjoon ran the bath. Disappeared into the kitchen for a moment to retrieve the purple bath bomb from the plastic bag on the counter, one that he got from the convenience store for you. Dragon fruit and hibiscus. Thought of the twinkle that would sparkle beneath your lashes upon seeing it. Wasn’t disappointed when you exceeded his expectations.

Having seen it in the mirror, almost microscopic and round in his big palm, you turned on your heel and burst into giddiness as he took off the plastic packaging with his teeth. You pouted in gratefulness when he showed it to you.

“You planned this, didn’t you?”

You hugged him, locking your hands behind the nape of his neck. Maybe he did, maybe he didn’t, and he told you so. A bit hoarsely, though.

Namjoon struggled not to moan. Groaned a little when he felt the curvature of your belly against his hardness and the pointed nubs of your tits beneath his pecs. Managed to conceal it, thankfully, by clearing his throat and by allowing an authentic grin to bloom on his dimpled face at your joy. Thanked the heavens for all the bath bombs in the world.

He placed it in your much smaller palm for you to plop it into the increasing water. Watched your eyes widen at the gilded glitter spreading around. Spurred you to get in. Held your hand as you lifted one limb, then the other. Knelt by you as you engulfed yourself in the violet tinge, your hair swirling around you, silky and ethereal, coming to a stop at the top of your head to fix a splendid crown for such a princess like yourself.

Namjoon turned off the tap while you rested your back against the curved wall of the tub. You swooshed your hands around, gathering the glitter into the fine lines of your palms. Looked up at him in elation, the twinkle doing its thing in the glossiness of your eyes, and smiled. Namjoon smiled back at you. His hand reached out to your chest in a fervent need to touch you. The glitter adorned your chest with its perfect speckles and they resurfaced when you arched your back in response. Clung to his palm in the middle of your tits, held on tighter as he took a detour to your chin by brushing across your sensitive nipple to hear your little mewls because if he made a sound, then you must, too. Because if he was horny, he must get you on the same page as well. Fairness is very important to Namjoon.

He squeezed your breast hard. Pinched your nipple between his thumb and the knuckle of his index finger in broken intervals, similar to little dashed lines of Morse code. You imagined he was telling you something through that secret language as you closed your eyes during an intense wave of pleasure coursing down your body, and perhaps he truly did because he pulled your legs apart harshly when you pressed them together. Punished you by lightly slapping your tit—the same one he abused with those firm touches—the force splashing you in the face with violet pearls. All as if you disobeyed the command he transmitted wordlessly.

The command possibly being: Only I will give you the release you need when I decide it’s time.

You bit your bottom lip to suppress the neediness erupting in you. Namjoon wrapped his hand around your throat and you dragged his rolled sleeve further up his arm, so it wouldn’t have gotten soaked in the water. He smeared your lip oil just because he wanted—just because he could, scattering the rosy tint around your mouth messily. He took advantage of the aftermath of his punishment and collected those tender beads, now translucent upon your carmine skin. Not with the thumb as you expected him to, but using the pillows of his lips, he kissed the round bulb on your cheek. It melted on the puffy surface when he withdrew. He looked you in the eye for a mere beat of time before he lowered to your other cheek to collect another trinket. None of the corners of your mouth were overlooked, not even the button of your nose. He peppered those kisses to erase the harshness of his selfishness, supporting your lifted chin with his long thumb beneath it, still sticky from the consistency of the lip oil, apologizing, smoothing down his sternness until you giggled.

Once he cleaned you, Namjoon returned the digit to your smudged mouth, delicious in his sight due to the essence of sloppiness that gets his length even harder in his pants. He presses the pad against it, already craving your tongue. You kissed it, a thank you for his softness, before you granted him the access. Tongue toying with the tip, you said hello in the mother language of the love stored in your bodies for each other. Wrapped both of your hands around his wrist. Didn’t break eye contact. Smiled, teeth showing happily, when he bit his lip, but soon got distracted by a small movement on his groin area out of your view.

You peeled your back off of the tub to curiously take a peek, but Namjoon pushed you back to your place. All while his thumb remained sucked by your mouth. You frowned at him, dismayed by his recurring roughness that you weren’t used to.

Namjoon tapped your cheek twice with his fingers to let you know it was enough and rose to his feet.

“Joon, what’s going on? Why are you so rough with me?” you asked, voice tender, the question shooting arrows into the wideness of his back.

Stopping in the doorway, he hung his head, fingers coming to intertwine with the short hair above his neck. “I’m sorry, baby. Let me get the book.”

A moment later, he returned with the stellar possession in one hand and a wooden chair in the other. He slumped against it, fingers finding the first chapter unwittingly.

You swam forward as if to the shore, propping your elbows on the rim to be closer to him.

“Is the water warm enough?”

You nod, your teeth picking at the excess skin on your lips. Namjoon notices and, as if registering the reason why you put on the lip oil in the first place, he leans towards you and rubs away the smudginess he caused. As if the walk into your dining room sobered him enough from the dark wine of his lust that he now regretted his actions.

“You really scared me when you were rough,” you said calmly, unafraid to uncover your feelings, knowing you’ll be caught now that you’ve jumped head-first into the hungry sea of honesty.

He apologizes again. Repeats it in the aphonic form of a deep chaste kiss.

“Won’t do it again,” he promises. “Unless you ask me to.”

Your lips form a smile, but it quivers into a straight line just as quickly as it appeared. The yet unknown cause behind his untypical behavior troubles you.

“Did something happen today at work?”

Namjoon sighs. “No, I’m just tired.”

“Just tired or tired of your job?” you try, tilting your head to the side, remembering this isn’t the first time quiet broodiness clutched his figure when the clock struck five.

“Both.” He kneads the heel of his palm against his eye.

Not expecting his honesty, your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. It propels you to investigate further. Gives you the green light. Namjoon usually keeps to himself when it comes to work-related storms, holding respect that reaches the bottom of his heart for those above him and for his peers as well.

“Did someone make you upset?” you ask, paving your way in this inquiry to the realm of understanding so you can help him. At least in a small way.

He drops his hand, gazes up the ceiling to stare at a fixed point. Perhaps he’s looking for words, perhaps he’s avoiding the question altogether. The regret of your prying swallows you. You’re afraid you’ve overstepped a boundary.

You reach out your arm, wrapping wet fingers around his wrist on his lap. The gesture says, ‘you don’t have to tell me but I’m here,’ and you squeeze the limb to emphasize that. As if he heard you, he looks down at you. His eyes that are usually narrowed into slits now round in tenderness. The swallowing lets go, the lump that threatened to obstruct your throat disappears.

“It’s Friday, Joonie, and you can forget about your job for a little while. It’ll get better,” you say, caressing his soft skin.

To your another surprise, Namjoon nods. Slips his fingers into the hollowness between yours, squeezing back, saying, ‘I hear you.’ Your heart jumps with gladness that you haven’t made a mistake, that instead your reassurement made a difference.

To lighten up the atmosphere, you begin to joke around.

“Should I beat them up?” You raise your brow in mischief, a goofy smile coating your face in lightheartedness.

A grin cracks on his face. “Don’t get your hands dirty for me, baby.”

You scoff, half-seriously and half-unseriously shaking your head at his eagerness to please but never letting himself be pleased. “But I want to. I’ll do it for you.”

Namjoon shakes his head as well. Leans over to you. Cradles your head in his hands and kisses you. Picks the hair plastered on your face and puts it away. You forget all of your jokes for a moment, breathless. Your neediness nudges you in your sensitive parts, reminding you of its lingering presence.

“Come on, Joonie,” you coo, prolonging the vowels, the best you could come up with considering his allure, “I’ll fight them,” you start to construct your imaginary plan, the dimples adorning his face making it a bit harder for you to get the words out, “then, they’ll be scared of me and they won’t bother you again. Because if they do, I’ll smash their fucking teeth in. And then… then, you’ll get your peace for good. Easy.”

Namjoon listens with his features bathed in enamoredness, seemingly lost in a deep thought. A twinkle, a twin to yours, glistens in his eyes. Dimples out provoking you, he softly smiles at you. Coyly. He’s unaccustomed to being the one fought for. He’s always been the one who fights. The one who settles, resolves, makes things right. He’s never been the person these things are done for by another person. It makes his heart pulsate in a strange new rhythm.

He stretches out his hands and runs his fingers through your hair. Begins to plait an intricate braid down your back, keeping you caged in the confines of his arms. Safe. Protected. His warrior princess.

“There’s something else you can do for me,” he mumbles, finished with your braid. Now your hair is away from your face, just like he needs it for what he’s about to do.

“Oh?” You raise an eyebrow in question, your smirk growing on the side of your face. “Like what?”

“I’m so hard for you, baby,” he whispers into your ear, shoulders hunched, lips tracing the edge of your earlobe. A secret just between the two of you. “My body’s confused. I need a release.”

Even though you saw it coming, even though you saw it a hundred times before, you can’t help but gasp at his desperation, bare and open before you. It’s a new experience each time. Thrilling and titillating, the vividness and ferocity of his sexuality. It causes a flock of playful butterflies to buzz you with electricity in your tummy and a shiver to run down your spine. You feel your own neediness making itself known again and you squeeze your thighs together.

This is the Namjoon you know. Strong in his softness. Mellow. Intense. The Namjoon who showed you plain roughness was a stranger to you, one you could take the time to get to know, because now you understand that the incentive to act like he did was his frustration from work. You can’t really blame the natural inclination of his body—his body that is yours to love in all shapes or forms.

You perceive he needs to let out some steam—he said so himself. Proud of him for voicing it out, a decision to be his helper already makes a way to your heart. You no longer feel slivers of consternation slithering in your veins. Knowing the cause, knowing it’s still your Namjoon helps you submit to the call of his needs. If a dab of roughness is what entails the sand-speckled footpath to the seaside of his well-being, you’ll take it. Welcome it, even. Within the realm of your established boundaries, that is.

“Can I see?”

The book falls to the floor with a thud. Namjoon stands up.

Ever so eager. Responding to his body language out of pure instinct, you hum and lift yourself to your knees. The outline of his engorged length, tight in his pants, greets you and you will your brain not to tell your fingers to rub your swollen clit. To busy your hands, you grip the rim until white brushes along your knuckles.

Emerging from the water, it left you smothered in a luster of wet silkiness. Namjoon’s eyes rake over your bare femininity. Heavenly, pure, seraphic. Groans a little loud. Doesn’t know whether to touch you first or his painfully hard and heavy member. You move your body to the side wall of the tub and he follows you, hand opting for his girth to relieve himself a little bit.

You sit prettily on your folded legs and lean over, pulling his wrist away. You plant a dewy kiss to the middle of his clothed length and look up at him, just at the right time to catch him whimpering. Your clit pulses again and you feel like crying, needing release as much as he does. He doesn’t make it easy for you, making sounds like that.

“What does my baby girl need me to do?” you ask, stroking his member while stifling your giggles at the title that fits him so well.

“Baby girl?” He frowns down at you.

It’s usually what he calls you, hence why his confusion. And you call him by an entirely different title, too.

A giggle does escape your mouth after all. You squeeze at his tip, drawing those delicious whimpers out of him again.

“Only needy little baby girls make sounds like that. You are needy, aren’t you?” You lick that sensitive part, palming his balls.

Namjoon whines.

The shift of dynamics, the change of titles ever so dizzying to the mind. He doesn’t even have the strength to correct you.

He grips the back of your head and moves you away from his cock. Then the realization he’s being rough again wafts over him and he softens his hold, fallen stray hairs coming to rest at your temples. Namjoon tucks them behind your ear. Taps you on the cheek once.

“Get to sucking off your baby girl,” he rasps.

You smile. Find it immensely attractive that he’s embracing the pet name while still being dominant. A masculinity in its true form.

“You can be rough with me if you want to,” you say, wanting to make that clear. “I think I can handle it.”

Namjoon traces the shell of your ear with his thumb, pondering.

“Just don’t hit me, okay?”

He says your name sternly, as if you offended him. “I would never deliberately hurt you. How can you think that?”

“No, I meant—” You lick your lips. “Don’t slap my boobs or anything. You can spank me, I like that. But don’t be as rough with me as you were. Can we take it slow? Is that okay?”

He stares at you for a moment.

“Do you trust me?”

You nod, turning your head to press a kiss into his palm. “Yes, I trust you.”

“I’ll teach you, then. We’ll take it slow,” he says, fingers stroking the side of your cheek, where a small amount of fluff creates a path for him to lay down his silent love on. “It was a mistake on my part for not preparing you for it, and for that I’m sorry. But I’ll teach you. Show you how good it is.” He pauses. “Until you beg me for it.”

Your throat dries up. The pulsing in your cunt unbearable.

“Fuck, Namjoon. Save the talk or I’ll come on the spot.”

“The talk is important,” he reprimands you. “Whether you come or not without my permission is your problem.”

“Shit,” you whimper, gripping his hand on your cheek. You tighten your hold as if to brattily change his mind on having this kind of control over your orgasm because you need to come as soon as possible. And not just once. You’re sure your dewiness is leaking into the water.

“No bad words or I’ll fuck your filthy mouth.”

You gasp. So unused to this side of him. But it turns you on, now that you feel safe. Turns you unstable.

“Say you’re sorry.”

You’re tumbling out the words before he’s even finished with his sentence. “I’m so sorry.”

He beams at your immediate submission, purring at the quintessence of your compliance. Wants more. “Who are you apologizing to?”

You pause. His usual title almost slips off of your tongue. But since this is new and you’re both experiencing a new dynamic that causes you to feel so playful, that guides you ever so gently and carefully into the kingdom of subspace, you opt for the pet name that suits him well. “To my baby girl,” you say, laughing softly. “I’m so sorry, baby girl.”

He laughs as well, the sound a deep rumble in his chest. You’re giddy that you’re allowed to be wild, your inner child healing and quivering within you. You overflow with the desire to kiss him.

“What for?”

He wants you to say the full sentence. You take a deep breath.

“Baby girl, I’m so sorry for having a filthy mouth and saying bad words.”

“Hm, do you regret it?”

You almost curse again. “Yes, I do. I’m sorry for being bad.”

“Good. Get to work, then,” he says. “Make that mouth useful.”

Fuck.

“Kiss me first, please. Make it better,” you beg, fluttering your eyelashes at him.

Namjoon moans and you bite your lip. Bends and sucks it between his, deepening the kiss as he opens your jaw and slips his tongue inside. Massages the muscle against yours. Makes those sounds again. Palms his cock. Withdraws with a pop.

You mewl in satisfaction. That kiss alone ruined you.

“Good girls get kisses.” Hand under your chin, he squishes your cheeks. “You’ve been exceptionally good. I’m gonna destroy you.”

He kisses you again with the same intensity but briefly, inhaling your skin. No tongue this time.

Cheeks awash with rosiness, you hastily unbuckle his belt. Not to cut time and get to his promise faster—on the contrary, you’re dying to pleasure him. He doesn’t help you like he normally does; he merely watches you as you pull down the cotton material of his slacks along with his boxers down his muscular thighs. Only when you wrap your lips around his cock from the side does he throw his head back. Thrusts his hips.

He’s rock hard. The weight of him makes you absolutely fucked out.

Namjoon likes you there so he keeps you still—there in the middle of his girth. You moan, producing as much saliva as you can to gratify him while he uses your mouth, alternating between keeping those pillows firm and soft. When he gets you to his tip, he expects you to swallow him, but you merely move your head from side to side rapidly, flicking your tongue. Namjoon groans lowly, a string of curse words spilling from his throat. His precum drops onto your chin and you suck in a breath, horny beyond your mind.

You swipe your index finger to collect it. Check if he’s watching before you plunge the digit into your mouth. Roll your eyes back as the tanginess overwhelms your senses. Namjoon hisses. Grabs your braid as if it were a ponytail. Kisses you, aching to be one with you. You feel the vibrations of his fervid mania in unity with him like this and it echoes down your body once he pulls away.

“Take it in your mouth.”

Namjoon holds it at the base for you and you find the long vein that you favor so much. Pepper kisses along the length of it, feeling it throb in tandem with your clit. Straightening your spine, you bite your lip. Give him an utter look of adoration before you swipe your tongue along the slit. Humming in delight, you slip him into your mouth. Your cheeks hollow and you begin to bob your head, fingers following your movement, bumping into his fist. Tears pool in your eyes when you dare to inch closer to his hand and even though you gag, you try your hardest to keep him nice and tucked in your warm throat. You sputter and cough, swallowing around him, because you deem he deserves it, knowing how much he loves it when your flesh contracts around him like that, and Namjoon groans deeply. It fills you with a dose of satisfaction almost akin to an orgasm, the lack of oxygen in your brain heightening the experience so much that your head spins.

“Such a good girl,” he whispers. “Breathe, baby.”

He slips out of your mouth. Pats you on your head before he sinks his fingers into your hair, gripping at the roots. Ascertains you pay attention to him.

“Don’t do that again,” he says, softly. “You need to breathe. Take a deep breath with me.”

You’re still on your knees and he’s merely looking down at you. You fold your hands on your lap. Your mind is so empty that you’re not sure how you feel right now, having been entirely focused on his pleasure.

Namjoon inhales deeply with his nose and you do the same.

Inhale, exhale.

Fondly, he caresses you on your cheek.

“I just wanted to make you feel good,” you explain yourself, thinking that you should.

“I know, baby, and you did. It’s okay, I’m not mad at you.” He smiles at you. “You hear me? I’m not mad at you.”

You nod your head yes. Pout.

“You feeling okay? Take a deep breath for me again.”

You do as he says, your senses returning to you like a warm spring wind.

“Better now?”

You nod again.

“Words.”

You wet your lips with your tongue. “Yes, I feel better now.”

“Good. Do you still wanna continue?”

“Yes, Namjoon. I wanna make you come.”

Almost like you flipped a switch, his eyes darken.

“Hands behind your back,” he rasps.

You oblige, crisscrossing your wrists below the dimples on your lower back.

“‘Atta girl. Back to work, come on.”

It’s much harder to do so without your hands, especially in the position you’re in. You hesitate.

“I don’t know if I can,” you admit.

He tuts in pity. “Should I use you then?”

You roll your eyes back, the idea intoxicating your body. You feel woozy.

“Yes, please.”

“Focus on your breathing, okay?”

“Yes, Namjoon.”

Humming, Namjoon grabs your hair gently and sinks your mouth down on his cock, moves you up and down slowly. You focus on not just sucking in your cheeks but also on breathing through your nose like he told you, although you can’t help but moan around him. It turns you on how he manhandles you to his liking so delicately. You swirl your tongue around his tip once he wants you there and you let out a series of whines and whimpers. He keeps you there for a little longer, moaning after you, the sounds creating a paradisiacal symphony. You twist your head in half circles as you continue sucking him, slobbering all over him, using your tongue to flick beneath the mushroom.

“So good, baby. Yes, fuck.” Namjoon squeezes his eyes shut. “You’re gonna make me come.”

You pull away, but a string of saliva still connects you to him.

He blinks at you. “You want a spanking?”

You run the tip of your tongue along the top of your lip, giving him the eyes. Cock your eyebrow at him. Namjoon draws a sharp breath in.

He leans over. One hand tugs at your braid firmly to arch your back over the edge of the tub. The other smacks you sharply on your ass cheek, smoothing over the sting. You moan, nipples rubbing over the cold surface, curse words dying on your tongue. Namjoon grips the flesh, spanks you again. Skims his fingers over your exposed heat. Repeats it on the other cheek, twice in a row. You wiggle your hips, needing to feel more, needing him to touch you right there between your legs. You cry out into his ear.

Letting go of your braid, Namjoon kisses you beneath your jaw. Slides his tongue along the sensitive spot, sucking it between his lips. A secret message that he hears you, that he’ll fuck your needy cunt soon.

“Think you’ll be a good girl for now?”

Furrowing your eyebrows, you nod a few times. Not a single rational thought passes through your brain.

Namjoon straightens. Pulls down his foreskin for you. “Spit on it.”

You watch as your liquid love trickles down and lands on his tip. He hums and surprises you by wrapping your hands around his girth, spreading down the lubrication with you. You feel the ridges and the thick vein in a new, vehement way and even though you’re not the one pleasured, you moan. The simple up and down movement grows in rapidness that your body follows, emulating the effort, making it seem like you’re bouncing on a dick. Your ass splashes the water around, creating tender waves full of love, inherited from your still leaking dewiness.

His hands are so warm enclasped around yours, pressed tight. Not once unclenching.

You start blabbering.

“You’re so big. I can’t even wrap my hand around you.” You make sure to look him in the eyes as you say it. “So big in my mouth, too. Could barely fit you.”

Your words set those twilit embers in his eyes on fire. His breathing quickens. He’s close again and you’re stunned, once more, by the vividness of his sexuality. Your hands go limp in his grasp.

“Nuh-uh, keep up the pace,” he husks. “Thought I was your little baby girl?”

You shake your head, willing your hands to gain strength again, but it has no source to draw from. “Not anymore.”

Namjoon chuckles, darkly. Notices your movements fluctuating, arms shaking. “Tired?”

You nod and he unclasps his hands. You twist your wrists in circles to alleviate them from a cramp.

Then, you get an idea.

Sitting back on your heels, you arch your back. Tip your chin down and spit on your chest, the essence flowing down the pathway between your breasts. You do it again, though this time you spread it on your skin.

“Fuck, baby,” Namjoon mumbles. Unbuttons his shirt. You squeeze your nipples with both hands as your eyes flick to his, then down to his exposed chest. “How are you gonna address me, huh? What’s my name?”

He forcefully tugs the fabric off of his arms, tossing it on the floor. His body—with its vulgar beauty, broadness and definition—takes your breath away. You don’t let it show, or perhaps you pretend that you don’t because you allow your hand to travel down your stomach. Namjoon imitates you, running his fingers down the chiseled muscles that make you drool. He stops at the hair adorning his pelvis. You don’t.

You rub circles on your clit instead.

“Daddy,” you cry out in pleasure, announcing his title—his rightful, most fitting title. Face contorting at the brisk, blooming flashes of sensuality rising up your form.

His body tenses. It’s like he’s stopping himself from reaching for you, pulling you out of the bathtub and spanking you until your bottom resembles the water. Or tugging at his length until he paints you white with his cum.

You make it easy for him.

Lifting your body, you step over the edge of the bathtub. Kneel at his feet on the fluffy black mat. Far enough for him to see purple liquid pearls make their way down to your cunt. Far enough for him to see how you resume those circles on your bundle of nerves, fingers reaching to your hole for lubrication. You roll your hips into your hand, arm propped behind you.

“What’s this show?” Namjoon rasps, his cock twitching. “I don’t remember giving you permission to touch yourself. You wanna end up with zero orgasms?”

You pause.

“That’s what I thought,” he says. “I believe you have unfinished work to do.”

You smile mischievously. “You want it bad, don’t you?”

Namjoon nods. Holds out his hand. “Come to Daddy.”

Exuberantly, you leap into his arms. Namjoon throws you over his shoulder like you weigh nothing and walks into your shared bedroom. Sets you down on your bed, spreading your legs, and he crouches between them, reaching into his bedside table for the tool that he wants.

The aroma of strawberries lovingly boops you on the nose. Namjoon squirts a good amount of lubrication on your chest, paying special attention to the pathway in the middle of your breasts. He massages it in, incorporates your sensitive nipples in the preparation, coaxing whimper after whimper out of you by squeezing them and rolling them between his long fingers.

“I’m gonna make a mess,” you say, grinding your hips against nothing.

Namjoon clicks his tongue. “Already?”

Your dewiness oozes out of you onto the bedding. To prove your point, you lean back on your elbows and lift your knees, revealing your dripping hole and the shine of your soaked folds. Namjoon stares at your cunt but doesn’t touch, doesn’t blink. He bites his lip. Flicks his eyes to yours.

He kisses the middle of your tummy. Moves over to your heat. Licks a tiny stripe on your clit.

You cry out.

“Namjoon!”

Hands on either side of your waist, crawling up to you, he growls. “Good girls are patient, aren’t they?”

He doesn’t wait for your response.

“They take what is given to them and they finish what they started,” he continues. “Don’t they?”

You nod.

“And you are a good girl, aren’t you?”

“Yes, I’m a good girl.”

“Then thank your Daddy for what he gave you.”

Your walls squeeze around nothing when you hear him utter his title. It refreshes your body with energy.

“Thank you, Daddy.” You smile.

Namjoon kisses you, rewarding you.

“Sit up.”

Changing the layout, it’s Namjoon who reclines halfway on the bed while you sit perched on your knees between his legs, cock in your face. He spurts the lube on his length and jerks himself off, his skin shining in the abrupt spillage of burnt-orange sunlight from the window. Watches your eyes round in astonishment similarly to the way they did earlier when you had gazed upon the glitter swarming around you.

He nods at you, giving you the green light, and you sheathe his girth into the tightness of your squished tits. You may start a face pace from the get go, fucking him into oblivion, but all Namjoon sees is the whites of your eyes, the glimmer, the pure enjoyment of what you’re doing while the rest of you is immersed in subdued late afternoon shadows. Sweat glistens on the planes of his face, dribbling down to the strained column of his neck.

It’s intense. So intense that he can’t vocally react.

Precum appears once more on his mushroom, displaying his arousal, and you slurp it up, the braid coming undone—your hair falling around you like a curtain.

It’s brutal. It’s wet.

Namjoon gathers your hair to the side in a makeshift ponytail and leans over to be closer to you. Needs you like this. Feels his relief catching up to him the more effort you put in, the more you stick out your tongue to flick at that sensitive part of him whenever you can.

“Want your come. So bad. Want it all over me,” you whisper, and that’s it for him.

“Say please,” he murmurs, and it’s barely a sound, but you hear him.

“Please, Daddy, come for me.”

Pulling your hands away, Namjoon takes charge. Fucks your tits in frenzy, your hair, now half dry, tickling your skin. With his thumbs, he stimulates your nipples to coax those little sounds of yours and—

“Play with your pussy,” he commands. “But don’t come. Tease yourself like you teased Daddy.”

The relief on your face inches him closer to his. He hears the wetness as you dip a finger in, your walls sucking it in. He hears your breath get stuck in your throat. The slow crescendo of your moans. Suddenly, he hears himself too.

Whiny, desperate, so unlike himself.

It’s a fortress of safety, his forehead on top of yours. His nose bumping against yours. Open mouth ghosting over the sounds of your well-deserved pleasure. It’s a safe place for him to come in.

And he does.

Ropes upon ropes of come color you ivory white, color you clean. The reversal of a coloring book—changing the lines, changing the scheme, changing your life.

You milk him dry, your pussy long forgotten. Milk him until he pushes you away, chest heaving, unable to catch his breath. You just watch him, his seed hot on your chest. Glittery. And not just there. On your neck, on your chin, in the wavy strands of your hair.

You’re in awe of him. You can see the pressure leaving him like a ghost slinking out of the window.

Namjoon takes off his glasses. With two fingers, he collects as much of his essence as he can and plunges them into your mouth. The other hand rests on the crook of your neck, thumb protectively over your throat. “Swallow.”

Not for long. Namjoon throws you on the bed. Doesn’t waste time.

He laps up your pussy, clit to hole, sucking your labia into his mouth. He does it again, but this time he travels a bit further. Clit, hole, ass. Tongue flat. Your screams are muffled by the rumpled bedsheet you grip.

Going back to your leaking hole, he circles the flesh before he dips the tongue in. Wraps his arms around your ass to control your squirming, feeling the dip of your spine as the sunlight kisses it. Dust particles spiral in the air—Namjoon sees it. The dark grey curtain keeping half of the world shrouded in dimness while the other illuminated, a picture cut in a heart shape due to the deliciousness of your ass.

Fuck, Namjoon longs to play with it again.

He spits on it, rubbing the saliva around it before he slides his tongue back into your wet hole. Says hello to it—long time no see—teases it, before he dips his thumb in. You arch your back even more, welcoming the intrusion, and Namjoon kisses your pussy lips as a thank you. He quivers with the craving to fuck you right there in your ass, but knows better than to do it. You’re not ready for it.

Spreading you more open, while keeping his thumb there in that sweet place, he begins to focus on your poor little clit. Swirls his tongue around it firmly, sucking it until your back trembles—goes up and down like a seesaw. The kisses he leaves there are obscene, loud, full of thankfulness that he gets to play with you. Full of love for you that he burns bright with—that propels him to flick his tongue harder. And full of joy that his stress is gone. Joy that you’ve been the helper unscrewing the steel body of heaviness off of his because, as of now, his bones feel lighter.

“You’re so good for me.” He smacks his lips against your cunt. “Fucking Daddy like that when he needed you.”

Vigorously, he rubs his face against you, shaking his head from side to side. You stretch your fingers behind you and helplessly grip the back of your thighs. Namjoon catches one of your hands, holds it with his free four fingers, sucking your clit.

“Thank you, baby,” he whispers, withdrawing to pay attention to your other hole, missing it. Abuses it once he spits on it, eating it, dipping his tongue in with ease since he stretched you. Fucks you there in the only way he can.

“Wanna come?” he asks and as he waits for your answer, he goes lower to drink your freshness, not letting a drop go to waste.

You’ve lost your voice screaming. “Yes, Daddy, please. I can’t hold it in anymore. Please, let me come,” you croak.

Namjoon makes a sound of appreciation, proud of you for holding out for so long without saying anything.

“I think you can,” he says. Stuffs a finger into your dripping hole and lets you adjust for a moment. Adds another. “I think you can hold it while I count to ten.”

His digits pump into you slowly. Kneeling by your side, he turns your head so you can see him, twisting your body into the position he wants. The curve of your back is so beautiful in his sight that he can’t help but run his free hand over the route that your spine has become. The route he wants to plant kisses on like flowers of various colors, adding to the coloring book, erasing the old.

And he does. Begins at the nape of your neck. Picks up the speed.

“One.”

You cry out. First before your tears rush out, pooling in your waterline. You clench your whole body in naive hope it would stall the orgasm, but it quickens it, squeezing his fingers in, so you relax your muscles.

“Two.”

A kiss to the first round protrusion of your spine. Shifting your weight to your shoulder, you take his cock into your hand.

“Three.”

The middle of your shoulder blades. You hear your wetness oozing out of you, the relief prowling closer. You whine and Namjoon understands.

“Hold it or I’ll stop,” he whispers. “I can feel your pussy squeezing around my fingers. Relax.”

You match your pace with his. Namjoon begins to pant. You feel his hot, heavy breath beneath your shoulder blades.

“Six.”

Ass shaking from the force, he jackhammers into you. Pulls out for a moment to spank you, a merciful gesture, before he’s back in. Leaves a wet fingerprint on your skin.

“Eight.”

The last protrusion of your spine. You silence your moans by pressing your hand against your mouth because they bring you closer to your orgasm, however Namjoon yanks your arm away.

“Make those pretty sounds for me, come on,” he huffs, kissing both of those dimples on your back. “Ten. Come. Come for Daddy. Come all over his hand.”

And you do.

It’s a paradise, the heat closing in on you. The loss of hearing, the muted ringing, resembling the flap of a bird’s wing. The loss of surroundings as you’re momentarily transported somewhere entirely else. A gilded illustration, perhaps a lively projection. Something, somewhere, where all is good. The orgasm rips through you and the repetitive echo of his name leaving your mouth is what brings you back. Away from the storybook into a brand new coloring book.

Namjoon strokes your hair.

He holds you in his arms, but something sticks you uncomfortably together. You peel yourself off of him and cringe. Strings upon strings of his come, gleaming with speckles of glitter, do not want you to leave. You sit on his thighs, resting your palms on his chest.

He kisses you. “Are you okay?”

You nod with droopy eyelids.

He carries you into the shower and makes a way for all colors of the rainbow to perfuse your body. To create a new storyline for the day, for the week, for the month. Reds and pinks show their faces first in the steam, and even though Namjoon is glad to see them, he looks forward to meeting the rest. To learning their objectives so he can fulfill them.

Grabbing the yellow book on the way back to the bedroom, Namjoon makes himself comfortable beside you. Is careful not to touch your face out of habit because you have a face mask on; careful not to bump into you either because you have a plate of mozzarella and sliced tomatoes on your lap. He kisses your hair, though. Doesn’t have the strength to fight internally—grabs your jawline and ever so slowly and heedfully, he kisses you, fingers finding the first chapter unwittingly.

“When Gregor Samsa awoke one morning from troubled dreams, he found himself changed into a monstrous cockroach in his bed.”

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kingofbodyrolls · 3 months

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Sprout | knj | mini series masterlist

Summary: You love your plants, you love your garden, you do not love your new neighbor. You hate him with all your might— he wrecks everything you hold dear so you do the only reasonable thing: retaliate.

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader

AUs: neighbors au, gardening au → strangers to enemies to friends to lovers

Genres: slice of life, smut, humor

Rating: explicit

Word count: 20.7K

Status: completed

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

Warnings: will be tagged for each individual chapter, but overall it includes the following: reader is just a really mean brat on a warpath. That entails pranks and vandalism and overall pettiness 👀 Namjoon has a driver’s license in this (this is a warning yes 😂), (somewhat) rough smut; degrading name calling (bitch), hair pulling, spanking, very brief anal fingering, some cockwarming, throat fucking, breast and nipple play, sexual tension, stupid innuendos, oral (both receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (please don’t be stupid), praise kink, begging, exhibitionism, slight dom/sub themes 👀 big dick Joonie, creampie, aftercare — I think that’s it!

🌱 Chapter 1 - Greenhouse | word count: 3.7K | Read → chapter one

🌱 Chapter 2 - To snap a twig | word count: 3.8K | Read → chapter two

🌱 Chapter 3 - Bloom | word count: 5K | Read → chapter three

🌱 Chapter 4 - Housewarming party | word count: 8.2K | Read → chapter four [FIN]

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oddinary4bts · 5 months

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Emotions of the Soul (teaser) | knj

☆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!

☆☆☆☆☆

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

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margotw10bis · 2 months

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Pretty Baby.KNJ [m]

sugardaddy!namjoon x sugarbaby!reader

Genre: smut; short-story

Words: 4.9k

Synopsis: Namjoon is your sugar daddy. However, you can't deny how your heart is jumping in your chest when he calls you his "pretty baby"…

Warnings: rough sex; unprotected sex; anal sex; first anal; oral sex (f. receiving); Namjoon is huge 😳; he loves ass; use of "daddy"

1 → 2 → 3 (Bonus : Memories ; Doubts & Possibilities)

What just happened? Namjoon is so shocked about your demand that he just stays still for several minutes. He has never imagined, in a thousand years, that you, his pretty baby, would put an end at your relationship like that. Were there signs he didn't see? Were you unhappy? He genuinely thought that you liked spending time with him, especially since he started to make efforts to know you better. He even thought that you liked him. But you obviously don't.

He wanted to tell you to change your mind, to think about it, that he could change if you wanted him to, but it would have been selfish. It was already too damn selfish willing to keep you for himself when he was fucking other girls — even if he doesn't anymore.

He thought that something changed the last time you two had sex. It was different, more real. Did he imagine everything? It looks like it since you just stepped out of his office after throwing a bomb at him. Fuck. But then, why would you look so sad? Everything is messed up in his head, he can't think straight.

More than the surprise caused by your announcement, Namjoon feels something truly unpleasant in his chest and he wishes it was just his ego. But it's not. He knows damn well it's his heart. Once again: fuck.

————

"I don't understand you, honestly" Jimin sighs

Yeah, you neither. You regret so, so much what you did yesterday. You clearly let Lisa messing up with your brain. You should have trusted Namjoon rather than her. You were so afraid of being hurt that you pushed him away and you hurt yourself instead. That's fucking stupid. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.

"I don't need you to tell me I've fucked up, Jimin. I need you as my best friend to support me and tell me everything is going to be fine" You say with a shaky voice, ready to start crying, again

"Come here" He whispers to hug you and rub your back

"Can I stay here tonight?"

"Of course you can. We are going to watch your favorite show on Netflix and eat some pizzas. How does it sound?"

You look at your best friend and feel so damn lucky to have him. You rub your eyes to get rid off the last tears and get the TV remote.

In another part of the town, Namjoon opens the door of the apartment. Your apartment. He can't just give up like that, without even fighting. But the place is desperately empty. No lights on, no noise. You are simply not here. He still has a ridiculous slight hope when he opens the door of your bedroom. Yet, your face is no where to be seen. Namjoon's heart squeezes. Where the fuck are you?

He is not sure you will show up tonight so he decides to leave and go meet his parents. Maybe he could use some advices from a 40-year married couple.

Namjoon's mom is super excited to see her busy son. It's pretty rare he comes eat with them. But her smiles fades when she notices the look on his face. He looks tired and sad. Defeated. It breaks her heart to see him like this.

They sit in the comfortable and huge sofas of the living room. Every single furniture of their mammoth house is expensive. Namjoon's parents love buying costly things but also giving their money to people who need it. Maybe that's why Namjoon doesn't have any problem with spoiling his sugar babies.

"Can I ask you guys something?" He asks, unsure

"Of course, honey" His mom says

"How did you become a couple? Was it easy?"

His parents share a glance, half surprised half amused. Namjoon has never wanted to hear about love before.

"It was certainly not easy" His dad starts "Your mom is pretty stubborn. I gave her many presents, expensive jewelries and so on. But she didn't care at all. I honestly thought she wasn't interested"

"I didn't care about the money. I cared about him and his feelings. You know, love is not just words but acts too. However, the acts don't have to take the material form of gifts" The woman continues

"So how?" Namjoon asks

"Spending time with each other. Small acts of consideration. Actually, the best acts of love are the simplest ones because they show how sincere you are and that you care about the small details" Her mom answers

Namjoon takes a few moments to think about it. He has shown his affection with presents. Expensive ones, even. But you, you are full of those simple acts of consideration his mom is describing. You made sure he wasn't tired or that he ate well. You changed your shampoo when you noticed Namjoon's scrunched nose at the smell of it even if he didn't say anything about not liking it. You distracted him with a mind-blowing blowjob on the day he lost a huge contract. Fuck, everything you have done the past few months was little acts that made him slowly fall in love with you. But maybe you didn't think Namjoon cared about you too.

"Is this about the girl from the mall?" Namjoon's mom asks carefully

"Yeah, but I'm not sure she really wants to be with me" He replies honestly

"I think she does. The look she was giving you, it doesn't lie, honey"

Those words are what Namjoon needed. Now, he has to find a way to see you again.

————

You have thought about it all day. Should you? It's Namjoon's birthday and you were invited by his mom. But it's also true that you told him you wanted to end things... However, you miss him so bad and it has only been five days.

You check yourself in the mirror. Yes, you have thought about not going but you have still gotten ready. Your heart beats so loud that you wonder how it is not showing through the soft material of your white silk dress — great metaphor of your willing to go back from the start and start on a new page.

It's Namjoon's birthday. And you miss him. And you love him. The only thing holding you back is you and your fear of being hurt. Are going to stay alone your entire life because of that? That would be so pathetic. Fuck, Namjoon gave you so much confidence, where did it go? You would be so disappointed in yourself if you don't at least try. So you fix your mascara for the last time and head to Namjoon's party.

The house is way bigger than you thought, especially because it's in Seoul center. You can't imagine the price of it. You knock on the front door and a fucking butler invites you inside. You are stressed, you can feel your hands shaking. Thankfully, there are no too many people — you guess just family and close friends. That makes you wonder what you are doing here. Everyone is so elegant and, even if you have put on one of your most beautiful dresses, you don't seem to belong here.

"Boring party, isn't it?"

You jolt as a male voice whispers in your ear. You turn your head and meet some very handsome man. He could easy be elected World Wide Handsome. His brown hair looks smooth and his eyes are sparkling with playfulness. Let's not talk about his juicy and plump lips. Fuck, every women must be jealous of it.

On the other side, the stranger is quite amused by your shyness. He also wonders what such a pretty girl is doing it. If his friend Namjoon has you as a friend, Seokjin would be upset and disappointed that he didn't introduce you to him before. Yes, the man is a womanizer but a very picky one: he seems to date only the most beautiful women.

"I'm Seokjin by the way"

"Y/N" You reply, shyly

Seokjin's eyes widen. Are you Y/N? Like the woman his friend can't shut up about lately? Oh, things are about to get interesting... Now he understands Namjoon. You look very pretty in that dress, almost a sexy version of a cute bride. Yep, Namjoon will go crazy when he sees you and the slight shadow of your nipples through the thin and smooth fabric. But for now, he is not here and Seokjin is a flirt.

"I'm honored to meet the most beautiful woman of the night" He says with a seductive tone

You don't really know what to say so you just thank him. Is he flirting? Oh my god, how are you going to escape him?

"It's the glass I wanted to bring to my friend but I rather offer it to a pretty girl" He continues, handing you a glass of champagne

You take it. You need alcohol to gather your courage, especially if Namjoon tells you to go fuck yourself after what happened in his office. You drink the glass one shot.

"Well! You go faster than Dom Toretto!" Seokjin jokes, laughing so loud than a few people turn toward you

His laugh also attracts Namjoon's eye. However, he doesn't see his friend. The only thing that seems to be visible to him is you. You came. And you look so fucking gorgeous. Namjoon recognizes the silk dress, it was his birthday gift for you. It looks so good on you that Namjoon's brain starts picturing you in all kinds of situations — both with and without the dress on. He wonders if it's the kind of dress you would wear for your wedding day. And after your marriage, what you would look like with a baby in your belly, his baby. How proud he would be to have you by his side and how everyone could see you belong to him.

Okay, his brain is definitely sick because those are ridiculous thoughts. You said you didn't want this relationship with him. But, what are you doing here?

Namjoon walks toward you and your heart stops when you see him. He is the definition of handsomeness. And he is wearing a fucking black — Prada it seems — suit with a white shirt. It's the look you prefer on him. This is torture for you, especially if it's the last time you see him.

"Hi" You almost whisper

"Hi" His voice is neutral and you don't know if it's a good thing "Can I talk to you, in private?"

You gulp and nod. Fuck, you are stressing so much. He invites you to follow him and he leads you to his bedroom. A huge place actually with not only a king size bed but also a sofa and a large bookshelf. All the furnitures are matching, even the pattern of the fabric. The color scheme, warm beige with hints of green here and there, is soothing — something you really appreciate right now.

There are so many things you want to say but nothing seems to form on your tongue. You can't look at him. You are so overwhelmed by your feelings that you could cry.

"I'm surprised you're here" Namjoon says

There is no reproach in his voice, he is just sincerely surprised. You can understand. But is it a good or a bad thing?

"I can leave if you want"

'But please don't say you want me to leave' You pray internally

"No, I'm actually glad you're here"

Your heart does a backflip in your chest and you look at him with hope.

"I'm so sorry for what I've said" You say as you are gathering all your courage "I don't want to end the contract"

"But I do"

Your whole body freezes. Your heart stops too, in a painful way. It hurts so bad, like your soul is torn apart. So that's it. It's the end for Namjoon and you. Fuck, you wish you could go back and never went to his office. You would do anything to go back in time.

A breathless 'Oh' leaves your lips, like you have received an uppercut in the stomach — well, it's pretty much what you feel.

Namjoon gets closer and notices your eyes watering. Words are not enough to express what he is feeling so he does what he does best. He captures your lips and kisses you deeply. You moan both in surprise and pleasure. You don't know what the kiss means but you are ready to take whatever he is giving to you if it's the last time you see him.

Namjoon wraps his arms around your small frame. The silk of the dress is so smooth under the tip of his fingers, but not as smooth as your skin. His hands go down and find your ass. He makes sure to lift the fabric and digs his palms into the flesh of your asscheeks. The cold air on your hot skin makes you gasp in pleasure. He growls as he missed it so much.

You pull him closer by grabbing the back of his neck. His lips travel down your jaw and then to the thin skin of your throat. His wet kisses make you shiver and create a pool of arousal between your legs, especially when Namjoon sucks on your skin. A reddish mark adores your neck. Namjoon smiles at it. You are so beautiful, you can't go out without a stamp of him.

Namjoon doesn't stop. He firmly grabs your ass and lifts you up. You wrap your legs around his torso and secure your arms around his large shoulders. You are now higher than him and it gives him the opportunity to dig his face into your breasts. He messily kisses your boobs and captures your harden nipples with his teeth through the fabric of the dress. Namjoon smirks when he notices you don't wear a bra and bites your nipple a little harder, making you whimper. Your head rolls back and you arch your back to give him a better access.

Your soaked pussy also needs friction so you start grinding on his abs. You need him so bad. You are stressed and horny when you think about what you are going to do.

Namjoon walks to his bed and sits on it, you still inside his arms. The new position makes it easier for you to grind on his lap. You can clearly feel his hard-on against your clothed cunt. You tug on his hair to access his lips and you kiss him like there is no tomorrow.

"Damn, baby, you're on fire" He jokes against your lips

"I want you" You moan, there is no better way to say the truth

You pull off and stand up between his muscled legs. You can see lust in Namjoon's brown eyes but also some affection in them. It gives you confidence to carry on. You take off your dress and the sight of your body almost completely bare makes Namjoon's cock twitch in his pants. He can't help but caress himself through the fabric, and his dick gets even harder. You slid down your ridiculously small and wet panties to stand entirely exposed in front of him. You finally take off your heels, your feet thanking you for that. You feel fragile but also proud to have the courage to completely give yourself to the man you love. You will have nothing to regret, even if tonight is the last night you'll ever spend together.

Your breathe is shaky and your hands are sweaty. Fuck, stress makes your legs weak but you have made up your mind way before entering Namjoon's parents' house. You are prepared, both mentally and physically for what is coming. You now have to trust yourself and Namjoon. You turn around and give Namjoon a perfect view of your ass he loves so much. You slightly bend over so he can see both your holes. Your pussy is so wet that Namjoon's breathe on it makes you clench.

"Fuck, baby" Namjoon whispers as it was the most beautiful thing he has ever seen

"It's your birthday present" You say shyly

Namjoon is taken aback. Is it what he is thinking about?

"What do you mean?" He asks, clearing his throat — he wants to be sure he is not over-interpreting

You take a deep breathe and reply.

"You can have my ass tonight"

It's like a dream came true for Namjoon. He has been dreaming about it for months. Your perfect ass. He wanted to stretch it every time he squeezed your cheeks. It must be so fucking tight. Just thinking he will finally be able to dive in it could be enough to make him cum in his pants.

He doesn't waste any time and starts licking your glistening pussy. You moan about how starved he looks. He is literally making out with your pussy and it's so fucking hot. His tongue rolls on your clit, then digs in your entrance to go back to your clit again. It's so good that your legs quiver. At some point, Namjoon takes a fat licking from your sensitive bud to your pussy entrance but continues higher to your other hole.

You whimper as Namjoon takes big laps of it. The new sensation is beyond words. You feel way more sensitive. You have to grab his hair behind you when he enters your pussy with two fingers, still wetting your puckered hole. Namjoon's face is so deep between your asscheeks that it's scandalous but fuck it feels good.

He leaves your hole one second to bite on the flesh of your perfect ass. His fingers pumping into your dripping cunt are delightful, especially when he goes deep and fast, making your legs weak. You can feel some arousal going down your inner thighs.

"Keep going, I'm gonna cum" You moan

Seeing you liking it makes Namjoon so fucking happy. He could eat your ass all day. Your hole is damn soaked right now and Namjoon starts entering it with his tongue. You're so sensitive, you're not sure to can handle it. Namjoon speeds it pace in your pussy and you almost scream. You tighten your fingers in his hair, bringing him deeper against your ass and he growls. Your pussy clenches and Namjoon digs his tongue further in your hole, almost not able to breathe. You know how sinful you look but fuck, Namjoon is tonguing your ass. The wave of bliss you know well in growing inside you but there is something different, something that makes it more powerful and your teased area is more sensitive. You can't hold any longer and you cum on his face and fingers. Choked screams of his name escape from your lips. Namjoon grabs you in his arms to prevent you from falling.

He puts you on his bed delicately as you're coming back down to Earth. He lets you rest a little and take off his clothes.

"Are you sure you want this?" He asks you, kissing your lips tenderly

"Yes, just be gentle" You say

You are crushing everything in him right now. The trust you put in him doesn't only fill his pride but also his heart. He promises: he is going to fuck your ass so good that you won't ever want him to stop.

"Tell me if you want to stop, okay baby?"

He kisses your forehead and spoons you. You feel his large and buff chest against your back but the way he holds you is so sweet that you push your ass closer to his cock with an urged need of feeling him. He places your upper leg a little forward to have a better access to your ass. He also makes sure to bring a good amount of your juices to your hole and to his large cock to lube them.

"I'm going to stretch you a little, I don't want to break you" He whispers in your ears "Yet" He adds playfully to make you laugh

Namjoon slowly pushes one finger in your so tight hole and you gasp. You hold on his other arm wrapped around your waist. He softly starts back and forth moves. It hurts a little but it's also so fucking good.

"Try to relax, it will hurt less" Namjoon says as he pecks your shoulder

You do as he says and you notice how easier it makes for him to finger you. He adds other finger and you almost cum instantly. Fuck, it's so good. You can't even describe how it feels. It's like you can feel him better, deeper. All the sensations are increased.

Namjoon enhances his pace when he sees you feeling more pleasure. He can't wait to put his dick in and to make you cum all over it. Your tight hole is going to feel so good around his length.

"Fuck, I need your cock"

Namjoon is beyond happy to fulfill your wish. He pulls off his fingers and grabs his cock. You feel his tip slightly entering your pussy to gather some of your arousal and then going up to your ass. He pushes to enter you but he is so fucking big.

"Come on, baby, I know you can take it" Namjoon encourages you

You gasp as his tip is inside you. You feel so fucking stretched. Pleasure and pain have never been this connected. You dig your nails deep inside his forearm but he doesn't care: you are fucking taking his cock in your fucking ass. Namjoon caresses your stomach to soothe the pain and keeps kissing your shoulder. He is so gentle you could die.

"Are you okay?"

You nod and Namjoon pushes deeper. You feel every single inch entering you and stretching you. You know he is not entirely in you but you're not sure to take more of him. Namjoon seems to feel it and he slowly pulls over, not completely, to push inside again. You start moaning, louder and louder as Namjoon pounds faster. The pain is still here but the pleasure... Oh god, it's beyond words.

"Fuck, Joonie" You moan as he enters your hole deeper

"You're doing great, baby. It's the best birthday present ever"

He grabs your asscheek and squeezes it hard. He spreads it to look at his dick fucking your ass. Feeling your very tight hole stretched by his huge cock is delightful. Especially when he is the first one. The thought makes his dick twitch inside your ass. He enhances the pace a little when he sees you relaxing and having pleasure. He feels so proud of it, that his cock provides you pleasure. That his cock is fucking your ass. He growls when he realizes it.

"You're so fucking perfect. Your ass feels so good"

The bliss is driving him crazy. He could fuck you so rough that you wouldn't be able to walk for days. But it's your first anal, he can't just destroy you. He grabs your chin to kiss you. Your hand reaches the back of his head. He gives you one hard dick stroke, making you scream his name. You don't even care that other people in the house hear you.

"That's it, scream my name, baby. Tell everyone who fucks you good"

"It's you, Namjoon" You moan loudly

He starts pounding pretty hard and fast in your ass and you're on the edge. Namjoon captures your throat with his large palm. He is almost entirely inside your ass and you feel him so deep. You have never felt so full. You start feeling a huge orgasm building inside you, despite your empty and clenching pussy.

"My pretty baby" He moans when sounds of skins clapping starts filling the room

You're so close to cum. Namjoon looks at your perfect ass taking his cock. Your cheeks get spanked by his thighs and abs every single time. He is not as gentle as at the beginning but he can't hold himself, especially when he notices how fucked up you look. You love his dick in your ass, he can feel it. He swears, he is going to fuck your perfect little ass harder the next time and you will beg for more. The show is so sinful that it spurs Namjoon to push deeper inside your ass, now entirely. He doesn't even know how you manage to take his dick in your tight hole but one thing is sure: you do and you do it fucking well.

"Oh, fuck!" You hiss "I gonna cum"

Namjoon smirks and slaps the side of your ass. You feel your empty pussy clenching. He seems to hear your silent prayers and the hand around your waist goes South to slide two fingers into your cunt, making you groan loudly. You feel so full of him that you can't help tightening your holes. Namjoon is fucking your ass so good. He hides his face in the crook of your neck and hugs you tighter in his arms as he pounds you deeper.

"Cum for me, baby" He whispers, almost begging you as he feels he won't last long

Your hole is too tight and it feels too good to have you in his arms. It feels so good to see how much you trust him — you let him fuck your ass for god's sake!

"Yes, yes!" You scream, loosing your mind over the pleasure

"Fuck, I love your ass" He growls, the vibration echoing into your core

You can't hold on any longer and you cum hard on his cock and his fingers buried deep in your pussy, almost crying of how huge is the wave of pleasure washing over you. You mumble some words you don't even know as you are high. So high, way beyond clouds.

Namjoon pounds a few more times into your tight ass and releases his cum inside. He hugs you so tight, leaving your pussy empty again but still inside your ass, like he is afraid you vanish.

You two stay like that a moment. You can't believe Namjoon just fucked you ass. You also can't believe how much you liked it. You almost fall asleep, you don't want to leave his embrace. You feel good, peaceful. You hum in content and scoot closer into his chest.

"Did you mean it?" He asks suddenly

"What?"

"That you love me"

Your body tenses and your eyes open wide. What? How does he know? You pull over, running at the opposite side of the huge bed. You try to cover your naked body with your hands. You look so panicked, almost terrified.

"It's okay if you didn't mean it" Namjoon reassures you, even though it breaks his heart to see how you are reacting right now

Did you just confessed your love while you were having an orgasm? Well, the best orgasm ever, but still. You're so ashamed. You didn't want to tell him like that. Fuck, when you tell Jimin you said 'I love you' to Namjoon while his dick was in your ass, he is going to laugh so loud...

You are ready to deny it but when you see Namjoon's face, you can't lie. You do love him. You can't keep being a coward and lying to Namjoon and to yourself.

"I meant it. I love you, Namjoon" You confess in a whisper

The silence is killing you. Especially when it's the exact moment you brain chooses to remind you that Namjoon said he wanted to end the contract too.

"That's a good thing" He says, surprising you "Because I love you too"

He gets closer to you and caresses your cheeks. Okay, you have always loved how kind he was after sex but the way he is looking at you right now, it make your heart melt so much it hurts. You can't help kissing him. Namjoon chuckles against your mouth and hugs you tighter. Honestly, he could fuck you again. No, he could make love to you.

"Say it again" You ask

"I love you"

His bright smile with his dimples brings so much happiness to you. Is it possible to die over joy? Because you could right now.

"Okay, there is no contract anymore but I'm not gonna lie, you're still my pretty baby"

You giggle.

"I have to tell you something" You say, pricking his curiosity "I'm jealous so don't you dare having another baby"

"I'm all yours" He reassures you

Like you said, Namjoon has always been honest with you. So you believe him when he says there is nobody else.

"I think we should go back to the party. I can't not showing at my own birthday"

You nod but wince when you sit.

"Are you okay?" Namjoon asks, worried

"Yes, it just hurts a little" You confess, cheeks reddening

Is it bad that he feels proud of it? He wasn't exactly soft but he definitely can get rougher and honestly, he can't wait to pound into your ass again. Or your pussy. He doesn't care as long as he can give you pleasure.

Namjoon helps you standing up and getting dressed. Your beautiful silk dress is now completely crumpled. You pout at it and Namjoon finds you so pretty. Now that he knows you love him, his brain is even crazier than before: images of you in a white dress walking down the wedding hall or of you with a round belly are stuck in his head. But he definitely can't go as fast, he will scare you.

Does that mean that he will wait for years? Absolutely not. His pretty baby better be prepared for her Christmas present. Especially after the best birthday present he has ever had: you saying that you loved him too.

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Taglist @gimeow @whoreseok723 @wecanpretendit @missbangtangirl @dprmoon @baechugff @parkinglot-nights

#bts #bts fanfic #bts smut #fanfic #knj smut #knj #knj x reader #kim namjoon #kim namjun #bts namjoon #namjoon #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #sugar daddy fanfic #sugar daddy namjoon #bts rm #rm #rm bts #bangtan rm

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l0mljeonjungkook · 2 years

Text

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".

2K notes · View notes

gojosnympho · 2 years

Text

cleaning day - k.nj

pairing: kim namjoon x black!fem!reader

genre: smut, lil bit of fluff, pwp, non-idol!au

word count: 2.5k

content warnings: established relationship, pet names, unprotected sex (don’t), lil bit of a breeding kink 🫣, dirty talk, oral (fem receiving), praise, ass slapping, teasing, sex with joon over a counter (bc that needs a warning in itself), and multiple orgasms. (lemme know if i missed anything <3)

author’s note: this is my first time posting on here so let me know if y’all fucking with it and i’ll post more! <3 (also idk how to do the read more thing yet so i apologize for clogging up your dash🥲) i figured it out!!!

you designated saturday mornings for cleaning up the apartment you and namjoon shared. he helped usually, other times he “needed to run an errand”, or “yoongi needed his help with something” when he didn’t want to help you clean. most of the time you didn’t really mind it because it wasn’t a frequent occurrence and because he took such good care of you so cleaning the shared space by yourself from time to time wasn’t that much of a huge deal. today was one of his “errand” days. he’d left almost as soon as you started playing old r&b songs over the jbl speaker you used when cleaning. he knew what that playlist meant and he wanted no parts today.

right now you were in the kitchen washing the dishes and jamming out to an old r&b song your mother used to play throughout the house on cleaning days. you didn’t even realize that your boyfriend was watching you from the doorway of the kitchen. you hummed along to the song as you made sure the plate you were washing was clean to your liking, then you moved on to the next one. he was still watching you, taking in your appearance. you were in your regular cleaning day attire: one of his big ass shirts that damn near swallowed you whole, a pair of shorts, your scarf or bonnet, and slippers. he always thought you looked so pretty like that.

he walked up behind you and snaked his strong arms around your waist, “hi, sweetheart.” he greeted you with a kiss to your cheek. you melted into him almost; the smell of his cologne clouding your senses. “hi, joonie. back so soon?” you teased him with a giggle. usually he’d be gone until he knew you’d finished cleaning. you wondered what was so different today.

“i just missed you too much to stay gone, princess.” his sweet words made you giggle again. you continued your task of washing the dishes while he stayed wrapped around you. once you’d finished you were taking off the yellow dishwashing gloves and about to pull away from namjoon but he held you against him.

“what are you up to?” you asked him, craning your neck to look back at him. he had a smirk splayed on his face, dimpling his cheeks. mischief was swimming in his brown eyes. when you realized you shook your head no at him. you knew what he was up to now. horny bastard. “if you can’t help me clean up then you can’t have no pussy.” you turned in his arms so that you were facing him now, looking up at the tall man. he frowned at you, his dimples disappearing with his action.

“i promise i’ll help after.” he said and his stupidly handsome face and the pout on his face almost had you dropping your panties right there but you stopped yourself. “i literally look so unattractive right now.” you said and he sucked his teeth. oh how he hated when you talked down on yourself. even if you were just joking. “you can never look unattractive. now c’mon, baby, let me bend you over this counter,” he taps the cold marble counter with his hand for emphasis, “and fuck you until you’re creaming all over my dick.”

his words made you moan softly. you nodded at him and that’s when he pressed his lips to yours. the kiss was sweet at first his hand went to caress your cheek while his tongue pushed inside your mouth. it quickly turned needy and desperate though. you couldn’t believe he’d gotten you this riled up in such a short amount of time. he pulled you in deeper, placing his large hand on the back of your neck for leverage. soon his lips were on your neck to give it the same treatment. you moaned at the feeling of him biting your neck and then licking over the spot to soothe the ache.

while his lips were busy on your neck, his hands were running up and down your backside, and then his hands were under your—his shirt to play with your boobs. he squeezed the mounds of flesh in his hands and you both moaned at the feeling. your nipples pebbled under his touch. even after the three years you’d been together he still had the same effect on you and your body.

“love your titties baby. so perfect.” he praised squeezing them again drawing yet another moan from your already parted lips. he began rolling the hard nipples between his fingers and you moaned again but this time it was a little louder. he tugged on them softly and watched as you twitched and keened under his touch. if his dick wasn’t hard before it definitely was now. you looked so fucking pretty he thought.

“stop teasing me, joon.” you whined. you enjoyed foreplay just as much as the next girl but you needed him inside of you now. he usually preferred to at least make you cum once before actually fucking you because of how…big he was but right now you didn’t think you needed to be prepped. just the thought of him wanting you so badly he was willing to take you over the counter was enough to make you gush.

joon, to your dismay, ignored your comment and continued the ministrations on your body and leaving hickeys all over your neck. his hands were caressing your sides and your belly now. his hands were warm against you; in a way it was comforting. he pressed his lips to yours once more to swallow all the moans you made. “gonna eat your pussy. would you like that, princess?” he asked against your lips. you mumbled a soft “yes” in response. fuck what you were saying earlier about foreplay. if he was willing to give you head, who were you to deny him.

he turned you back around so that you were leaning over the counter. your clothed breasts laid flat against the hard surface and the cold marble made your nipples even harder than they already were. behind you, namjoon was pulling your shirt up to get a view of your ass. your sleep shorts hug the lower half of your body, the shape of your ass very prominent in them. you jolted forward when you felt him leave a smack on the right cheek. it wasn’t enough to actually leave any sting but it was enough to make your ass jiggle upon impact.

you felt him hook his fingers in your shorts and underwear and pull them down your legs. he helped you step out of them and then threw the clothing to the side. now here you were in your freshly cleaned kitchen half naked, dripping, and waiting for your boyfriend to touch you where you were aching for him the most. you didn’t even care that you would have to clean the counters and floor again as long as he was gonna fuck you. you felt his fingers trail up your thigh and stop right before he got to your pussy.

“kim namjoon! enough of the teasing!” you complained with a stomp of your foot. he chuckled at you but ultimately he gave you what you wanted because he wanted it just as bad. his hand finally found the wet slit of your pussy. both of you moaned, you because even that small touch felt so fucking good and him because of how wet you are.

“oh, baby. you’re dripping.” he said, barely above a whisper. he pulled his fingers away from your cunt to show you just how wet you were. his long fingers were glistening with your arousal and the sight had you moaning again. he returned his hand between your legs to rub circles into your clit.

“so good, joonie.” you praised him as your eyes fluttered closed from the pleasure. he was so skilled with his fingers and he knew it too. there’s been plenty of times when namjoon got you off with nothing but his fingers. he was even more skilled with his tongue though and that’s what you really wanted. it’s like he read your mind because you felt his thick tongue lick a stripe up your pussy. “oh fuck!” you cried out gripping on to the edge of the counter. he chuckled from behind you which sent vibrations straight into your dripping hole.

he attached his lips to your clit and began to suck on it while you moaned and pushed your ass back against his face. he grabbed your ass cheeks and spread them to give him a better view of your pussy. he flattened his tongue against your sex to lick up the juices that gushed from you. you were sure you were making a fucking mess but he didn’t give a fuck and honestly? neither did you. he slurped up more of your juices before returning back to sucking your clit.

“taste so good, baby girl.” he said into your pussy. you moaned again at his words. your orgasm was steadily approaching and if he kept going at this rate you were gonna cum. you started to grind down on his tongue to speed up the process. he noticed so he grabbed your hips to help you out. you dragged your pussy across his tongue at a steady pace until you felt that feeling in your stomach start to come undone.

“fuck, joon! ‘m cumming!” you cried out as you continued to move against his tongue. with a gasp and a soundless scream you were creaming all over his tongue, wetting his face even more in the process. you rode his tongue a little longer until the intense feeling went away. you sighed and used the little strength you had to look over your shoulder. joon smiled at you, his face shiny with your juices.

“how did that feel?” he asked you smugly. cocky bastard.

“it felt amazing but you didn’t need me to tell you that. the evidence is all over your face.” you said to him. he licked around his mouth trying to get as much of your juices off as he could.

“you made a mess.” he responded simply. you chuckled before laying your cheek on the counter again. the first orgasm still buzzing on your skin. you heard joon getting undressed behind you; his clothes hitting the ground with soft thuds. “are you ready for me, baby?” he asked you, sweetly.

“yes, joonie. please fuck me.” that’s all it took. the blunt head of his dick was running through your folds to collect your arousal and then he pushed into you slowly. “so fucking tight.” he mutters under his breath before pulling all the way out of you and then slamming back into you with no mercy. your body jolted forward from the sudden intrusion but before you could give him shit for it he was already giving you strokes that had every thought falling from your pretty little head.

his strokes were deep but slow. you could feel your pussy clenching around him with each thrust. all you could do was moan at the feeling. he was basically splitting you open. he started moving faster now, rocking his hips into you until the sound of skin on skin resounded throughout your kitchen. you moaned again trying so hard not to scream but it was nearly impossible because he was reaching so deep inside of you. he placed his hands on your hips to give himself more leverage to speed up even more. he was pounding into you now, pushing you up the counter with each powerful thrust. he pulled you back against him each time, the tip of his fat dick bumping against your sweet spot. your toes were curling and your jaw was slack as choked whimpers and moans came from your throat.

“you feel so fucking good…fuck!” he said and you moaned in response not being able to say anything with the way he was fucking you. he didn’t mind though. he enjoyed nothing more than fucking you stupid until you were nothing but a puddle beneath him. he angled his hips up so that now every time he drove into you he was pushing even harder against that spot inside of you.

“don’t stop, baby. please don’t stop.” you reached behind you to wrap your hands around his wrists to ground yourself because you were losing your fucking mind. he kept snapping into you, his hips smacking against your ass every second and you were seeing stars.

he moved your hands from his wrists and then pulled your body up so that you were standing back to chest. he never stopped fucking into you and this new position had you clenching around his dick so hard it was almost painful. you were dangerously close to toppling over the edge and joon knew it too.

“you gonna cum baby?” he asked and you nodded frantically. “yeah? you gonna cum all over this dick? milk me for everything i have?” you moaned at his words and he chuckled at you. he reached in front of you to rub your clit in fast circles. you cried out his name in a high pitched voice and his next words had you cumming all over him: “cum for me baby so i can breed this fucking pussy.”

you clamped down on him violently and as your orgasm washed over you, you chanted his name. he chuckled into your ear and then placed a kiss on your sweaty cheek. “that’s a good girl. now let me put my baby in you.”

he bent you back over the counter and started fucking into you again at a fast and brutal pace. his grunts turned into soft pants and his hips began to stutter.

“gonna cum.” he announced with a breathy whine before he spilled inside of you, ropes of his thick seed coating your walls. after he finished he pulled out of you and watched as both your and his cum dripped from your hole and onto the floor beneath you. he sucked in a breath at the sight before leaving a light smack on your ass. your brain was still fuzzy from your orgasm so all you could do was hum in satisfaction. joon rubbed your back as you came to your senses whispering praises into your ears about how good you did and how good you were for him.

“you are so nasty.” you softly chastised him when you’d finally gained enough strength to stand on your shaky legs.

“fucked you up didn’t i?” he asked wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against his chest. he rubbed your back some more to calm your trembling body.

“you better keep your promise.” you said to him. he placed a kiss on top of your now scarf-less head. you’d lost it during your…activities. “oh i will, starting with you. let me run you a bath, okay?”

once you were out of the bath and in new clothes, joon in fact did keep his promise. he cleaned up the rest of the apartment while you sat in bed and relaxed. what a sweet boy. he came to join you in bed a little bit later, wrapping his arms around you to cuddle. you relaxed into him, feeling your eyelids getting heavy with sleep.

“you know, maybe cleaning day isn’t that bad.” namjoon said to himself when he heard your light snores fill your bedroom.

#ten writes 🧚🏾‍♀️#knj x reader #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon smut #bts x black reader #bts smut #knj smut #kpop x black reader #namjoon x black reader

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mochilatae · 3 months

Text

Me Time (Namjoon x Yn/Reader)

Word Count: 7.23k

Pairing: Namjoon x Y/n

Rating: 18+/Mature/Explicit

Warnings: Kissing (french and other), oral sex (fem receiving), fingering, clit/pussy sucking, orgasms (multiple, yours and his), flirting, seduction, semi-missionary sex, intense sex, dirty talk, unprotected sex, creampie, Namjoon has money/a nice place/is a rich guy in this one. If I missed one, it is what it is.

Genre: Strangers to Lovers, PWP

AUs: None

Summary: You head to the woods for a Me Day. When you encounter a handsome stranger more than once, it becomes an ‘Us’ day that you could get used to.

Author’s Note: Glad to be back and I’m happy to have my comeback be a Namjoon adventure. This was requested by @worldwideseal a bit ago and I've been trying hard to finish it.

Thank you for reading. If you enjoyed it, let me know in a comment.

Tag list: @askkrisachan @kiestrokes

It was a solid battle. A contemplation in the drinks aisle, door open and chilled air rolling over your sun warmed skin. If you were accused of debating too long, it wasn’t something you’d deny. The cool air felt nice on the sting of what had clearly proved a bit too long in the midday sun.

A wonderful way to start your weekend: an unexpectedly challenging hike that was supposed to take less than 30 minutes from the parking lot. But that proved to be for those initiated types–the ones who made a hike with a considerable grade look like a jaunt.

For you it was a bit more like a gauntlet of misery. So you’d more than justified it to yourself, leaning against the drinks cooler door frame, letting your profile crush against the frosted surface.

You hadn’t heard the footsteps approaching but the voice came through. Clear. Amused. No need to look because a grin stretched the distance between the few words over your shoulder.

“Contemplating life or flavors?”

You straightened, grip finding and holding the door handle. The chilly rush over your cheeks did something to help the panic, which helped a little. You couldn’t blame that kind of tell on lack of sunscreen or an unplanned too-long-hike in the sun.

“It’s rough.” You barely replied. Eyes popping, you grabbed the brightest color visible front and center: blue ice. Lowest on your list, but it was in your hand and you stepped aside.

A large hand grazed your own as grips traded on the door handle.

The form stepping into your spot in front of the open case was just obvious enough: Big. Broad. Tanned just right. The kind of golden that said it was real deal stuff. No spray tan or tanning bed nonsense.

The man leaned forward, eyes closing as he hummed into the same cold air your pores sucked up earlier.

You swallowed, eyes lingering on the necklines. And the biceps, rounded, stressing the cuffs of his white t-shirt sleeves just enough. Suddenly you were hungry–the handful of crackers and cheese burned up long ago in the car. You’d eaten fast and should have prepared more, but now you saw something meaty.

Something in a healthy, hunky shape, grinning your way, eyes finally open and meeting your nervous stare. Your eyes widened again. At least you kept your mouth neutral–an even line.

He had a nice smile as selected the same flavor you’d chosen, nodding your way.

“Good flavor. You like it too?”

You looked down, turned the bottle over in your grip, and looked back up.

Shrugging, you waved the bottle a little. “It’s up there.”

One perfectly thick brow arched as the man offered a timid smile. He didn’t move much, but his bangs still lolled. The tips feathered his forehead, hypnotizing your senses for a moment. You’d barely noticed the world huffing up the winding trails outside the store, melting under your tank top and workout leggings.

He had the faintest sweat–something normally unappealing. He’d managed to make a biological response magical. The slickness on his skin looked good.

“Up there? Not your go-to?”

In the middle of the only store for 45 minutes in either direction, there wasn’t room to be choosy. Trade offs were made for a weekend away from your city apartment. A lot more space. A lot LESS amenities.

But sometimes there were unexpected perks—exhibit A standing just within reach.

Blue Ice traded hands as he reached into the case again. This time he selected a considerable bottle of Evian and shook it, like you’d done before. Both his cheeks developed dimples as he beamed.

Your fingers tightened on the cold plastic bottle that you now gripped for dear life. Your throat was tight enough. It wasn’t the only part suddenly unable to relax. The reason was familiar and longer overdue: Attraction. Raw and unbridled. Washing over you.

“Can’t beat water. Perfect palette cleanser.” Murmuring, his fingers wrapped both bottle necks with room to spare as they overlapped.

“You’re not local.” He added once his assessing gaze finished at your face.

A scoff dislodged the lump in your throat, allowing a breath.

“Is it that obvious?”

You boiled inside all over again–as warm inside as the surface of your skin felt outwardly when a wide, warm smile changed the entire handsome face in front of you.

If he was a local you’d eat the map you’d grabbed from the gift shop ‘section’ of the store.

“Maybe.” He added a wink, then looked beyond you, towards the clerk leaning into the counter by the register, yawning her way through the local paper with low lids. She hadn’t looked up when you came in, but she couldn’t have missed this guy.

“Are you?” It was natural to ask so you didn’t feel awkward about it.

“Yes and No.”

“I don’t live here year round. I visit now and then.”

“What’s that mean?” You watched his free hand go into a pocket, then come back out with a square of leather.

His head jerked towards the end of the aisle and you took a step, matching his as he walked and talked.

“Family?” Your eyes scanned the shelves as you moved along, trailing the man but also debating just how hungry you felt before it was too late and you were back into the hike back to your car. It seemed just a touch too far away right now and those Oreos on the upcoming end cap looked all too tempting.

“No.” He chuckled, glancing at you, then following your eyes to the Oreos. With a rakish grin, the man grabbed two packs and they joined the drinks, tucked against the inside, pinned in place by the inside of his arm.

You suddenly wondered what that arm would feel like around your neck. Maybe bent over the counter, with his lips along your ear, his hips screwing slowly against your ass. Bold and full of fire.

That kind of body heat wouldn’t be the worst thing to suffer. You were piping hot in a few places as it was.

“I own a place up the hill.” He was stopped at the aisle end. You thought about going around, but didn’t. No need to end this encounter any sooner than it was going to be over. It wasn’t getting any less hot outside either.

“Yeah?” You returned a smile.

“Mmhm. What’s your name?”

You hesitated, bringing the drink bottle to your neck and rolling it along one side. You kind of like it more than a lot that his eyes followed the motion. His patient smile didn’t falter but something flashed in his eyes.

“Y/n.”

“Nice to meet you.” He said. “I’d shake your hand but—”

Your hand shot out. Until now you weren’t the type for hand shakes. How quickly that changed.

“Namjoon” He pumped your hand as he spoke again. That big palm was warm and smooth. Silky and dry. By contrast you wondered just how dewy your palm still felt. You’d spent quite a bit of time wiping palms on your thighs as you’d paused all too often on every hill during the hike. But he didn’t have to know that.

Namjoon gave no indication he minded, if anything was amiss. “Nice to meet you.”

Finally he moved again and you watched his back as he stopped at the counter. The employee barely looked up, coming away from the counter to situate herself mostly behind the register. The beep of each scan started. In between Namjoon made more conversation, which was a relief because you couldn’t keep your focus on talking with the way your eyes feasted on his ass and calves.

Everything from his hips down looked impossibly tight in his light gray workout pants.

“You hiked up here then?”

Leaning around him, you stole a look at your chosen drink still on the counter, then sighed.

“Yeah.”

Namjoon moved your bottle towards his selections. The girl was efficient, scanning so fast you had no time to protest. With a single blink you pointed.

“...That’s mine.”

He had to forget. That was it. Best to remind him. Just like him, you’d queued up to pay. Reasonable for how you expected things to go. Even if you hadn’t expected to meet someone in the middle of choosing. But that was life sometimes: unplanned, bringing pleasant surprise on the back of undesired situations.

“I know.” Namjoon opened his wallet.

You noted several cards in various colors. Even black—you knew enough about people who owned a black card. It took a certain level of financial security and comfort to get one of those.

He’d already paid and turned towards you again with your drink held out in offering. You took it. When he passed a pack of Oreos along after, you sputtered. It wasn’t an insult to injury for the extra sugar, or the worst thing. The cheap energy would help your dreaded trip back down the hill.

Still… How he’d decided to be so kind. To a stranger.

“Why?” You inquired, low and confused. Feeling all kinds of knotted up inside at his kindness and that flame still going inside your chest.

Namjoon stepped around you and started for the door, taking your focus with him as you turned, and paced him with your stare. Looking back, he held the door open and spoke.

“I wanted to. Be careful out there.”

---------------------------------------

You kept replaying things in your head, carefully shuffling sideways down the steep hill. There hadn’t seemed to be so many on the way up, but the grade felt a lot more intense going the other direction, towards the store.

Now, having some distance from the store, you felt a little sheepish over quietly cursing your decision to come up here. It was a lovely day outside, instead of the boiling, sun soaked hell you’d sworn it had become earlier.

Unscrewing your drink cap you took another healthy swallow and swatted at the tinny whine of a mosquito hovering near your ear. You slapped another away from your shoulder and marched down the hill again, taking more cautious steps.

As you came around a corner, you noticed a form and barely glanced further beyond, where the hill sloped down again, into the shadows of forest canopy. Darkness and coolness was promised and you couldn’t wait.

You made your way by with measured steps, almost shuffling to keep from tumbling down the trail, treading on the loose gravel and natural divots of long dislodged rocks.

It wouldn’t be attractive to go the rest of the way down on your backside.

“Y/n?” A curious voice, tinged in muted surprise.

You looked towards the voice as your pace slowed and the figure turned to greet your approach. Clear as day: the tall frame with white t-shirt impressively stretched over a broad front.

Namjoon’s face, still fresh as it’d been meeting him a bit ago, beamed.

His sunglasses were off, resting on his head and he wiped a hand on his thigh, then extended it. You tried wiping a hand too, missing a good amount of the dirt kissed palm. Namjoon shook hands anyway.

As he glanced where you’d been heading, you stole a once over. Namjoon didn’t look any more sweat soaked than he’d been. The hill grades weren’t a challenge for him. If he’d hiked to get to that store too, he was in MUCH better shape. You’d never have guessed he’d just come up these hills, looking unflagged in front of the drink cooler.

“So you didn’t drive to the store.” You voiced the determination, earning a raised brow.

“Is that bad?”

“No.”

“I DID drive to the parking lot down there.” Namjoon motioned in that direction. “The road is too long and winding through the woods to get up there safely. From the parking lot it’s an easier walk.”

An easier walk. You scoffed softly and wiped the back of a hand across your brow.

“You parked down there too?” He continued, casually wiping trail dust off his shirt.

“Not quite.” When he looked up again, both brows rose. The least you could do was a little more explanation. Lamely you added “..My friend dropped me off. I have to meet her back down there in a little bit.”

“That’s nice of her.” He murmured with a smile. His cheekbones had a brief glimmer. Even the overhead sun couldn’t do a thing to dim his appeal. Sweaty or dry as a bone. Rain soaked. Something told you that Namjoon was all-weather handsome.

“Yeah.” You agreed.

You watched your sneaker toe bully through the dirt in an uneven line. Your muscles protested menacingly from this tiny action. Much too much. Burning and twitching had found a nice home there. The croissant and half a coffee you’d wolfed down for morning fuel hadn’t left a single ounce of energy by now. You were paying for it now, even with half a sports drink down.

“You should walk down there with me.”

You were equally surprised and thankful he asked. The company was welcoming and you needed to see his car. Having several cards in his wallet and looking so good even after a moderately intense hike? Namjoon wasn’t driving a beater.

“Sure..” You responded, waiting just long enough to look like it’d been a little debate.

Namjoon pushed upright from the leaning he’d been doing against a tree just off the trail and stepped towards you. Turning to face downhill, he strode forward and you followed, falling into pace. His strides were long, but he went slow enough. It was like he sussed your flagging energy and mounting fatigue. You weren’t exactly projecting boundless energy.

However long the hike felt going uphill, time bent again and it seemed over all too soon as you paced Namjoon to the parking lot’s asphalt edge after coming around the last trail bend a short time later.

As you stood next to him, looking at the few cars in spaces scattered across the lot, Namjoon turned his face up to the sun and let his head fall back.

You slid your pack straps off both shoulders and brought it around to your front. Namjoon rifled through his pocket, doing the same to free himself from his mid-size backpack. The keys jingled as he looked away from you, to a far corner of the lot.

“Your friend here yet?” He inquired, squinting.

You scanned. Nowhere did you see the familiar rust nibbled Isuzu. An antique by some measure but it served her father well in college and he’d maintained the interior parts enough to keep it going even now. The car got you up here and you were fairly confident it’d get you back to town.

“Not yet.” You thought about calling but didn’t go for your cell phone, setting your pack at your feet instead. Namjoon noticed, double taking.

“Well..” He began, leaning down and grabbing a strap, then lifting the pack like it was empty. It certainly hadn’t felt that way going up OR down the trail. “..Let me drive you? Where are we headed?”

“You don’t have to–” A tut cut you off toot suite.

“I want to, Y/n. Where are we going?”

Inhaling, you almost choked on trail dust still lingering at the lot edge. The dread of the trip back home in a car without AC was pulling you down into despair. In spite of your friend's optimism, all the windows down had not helped nearly as promised and it wouldn’t be better now, sweaty and tired.

You glanced at Namjoon after a moment.

“...Well.. Where are you going?”

Namjoon’s smile was cheeky. “Me? I have a place about 20 minutes drive from here. You’re welcome to hang out there and wait for your friend.”

“I could do that.” You should, not wanting to go all the way back up that hellish trail, to the store. No way you’d make it. No need to even delude yourself. The Isuzu and the trail would not see YOU again, for now.

“Yeah? I know it’s cliche. Stranger danger..”

“Maybe but.. What the hell. It’ll be nice to see your place and find out there’s more than a few damp cabins out here. So long as it’s not a rotting shack in the pines, we’re golden.” Your mind supplied endless visions of bugs, bears and poison oak. It was anybody’s guess what you’d encounter but there was 1 of those 3, minimum.

“Hmm.” A playful glare leveled your way. “There’s not much land value in a moss covered single level dwelling these days. The market wouldn’t bear it and I’m not into that kind of ambiance.”

“Thank goodness.”

Namjoon reached where he’d been looking: the lot corner, and a cobalt blue sedan parked there. It was dusty but otherwise in great shape. MUCH better than no-AC and AM radio only.

You followed, keeping within a step or two. As you both made your way, Namjoon spoke again.

“You can call your friend when we get to my place and hang out until they get there. Deal?”

You nodded.

He opened the passenger door first and watched you climb in, then moved to that back passenger door and opened it. A gentle lob had both your packs situated across the back seat.

As Namjoon settled into the driver’s seat, you buckled your seatbelt,then let your legs stretch out. The footwell was roomy too. This was proving to be a good decision the more time went on. You wouldn’t have bet on this kind of luck turn hours ago.

Namjoon was smiling, watching you get comfortable. The car came to life. He adjusted the rearview mirror.

“I wouldn’t object to some food too.” You suggested, watching him study the mirror’s reflection, then glance back as he reversed out of the parking spot. He shifted to drive, jaw muscles briefly flexing before he spoke.

“I can take care of that.”

---------------------------------------

You finished the last bite of apple and chewed, staring out the picture window.

Namjoon had more than a ramshackle place with walls, windows and a few doors. It was like something out of Mountain Living magazine–of which you were sure you’d seen a few issues neatly stacked on the coffee table in the living room when he’d led you through.

This kitchen was spacious. More than any other cabin you’d spent time in.Even if that number wasn’t high, THIS place was impressive. It shouldn’t have been a shock, spotting all the cards in his wallet. That was plenty of foreshadowing.

Even if assumptions weren’t fair.

You swallowed and turned away from the view, setting the remains of the apple on the kitchen table and headed for the living room. You took a loop around the perimeter, studying the bookshelf, paying close attention to the single shelf dedicated to what looked like photo albums.

You were tempted to pull one off and go through it. But you didn’t, turning your attention to the photos on the nearby wall: lots of candid photos of nature. Namjoon’s selfies tended to be unique: his form standing in the distance of the shot, back to the camera.

Or in silhouette barely at the edges. You liked a particularly vibrant one of his bare back to the camera, shorts soaked to the skin with water, flesh glistening in the sun against the expanse of a sky so blue it hardly seemed real.

It looked like some kind of lake. You wondered where this body of water was, hopeful it wasn’t far, then went to work pondering how it would have been behind the lens, taking the shot.

...And what would happen after, when the picture was done and Namjoon turned around with that smile.

A smile you’d grown to really like A LOT since the store.

Hearing a door close, you turned towards the dark hall where the sound had come from. There was a little motion under the door at the far end, shadows moving across a sliver of light at the bottom.

A moment later the door came open and Namjoon’s form filled the newly made space. Not long after his footsteps came towards you. When he came through from the dark into light, your senses reeled.

Namjoon was flushed and smiling, hair wet and slicked back, cheeks plumped in a shy grin. He’d changed shirts. This one was thinner and more ivory than optic white. You knew that shape at the front of his chest and the tiny perking points.

You blinked away the stun and smiled back.

“You reach your friend?” He asked, walking towards, then around you, heading for the couch.

You turned. “Yeah.” You’d hit voicemail. It wasn’t your best message and you probably sounded breathless, describing what had happened on your hike and trying to summarize Namjoon in the space of 30 seconds.

Lord knows how your friend would take it.

“I…” You paused and Namjoon’s head turned your way.

“Hmm?” He’d paused arranging the couch cushions, even though they looked perfect to you. “What is it?”

God you felt…dumb admitting this but it was best to spit the truth out. Time would betray you eventually.

“I wasn’t sure of your address so I couldn’t leave one on the voicemail.”

Namjoon chuckled warm and slow. You wanted to grab a throw pillow nearby and stuff your face into it, to swallow up the responsive squeal aching to escape your throat.

“I guess I hadn’t thought about that.” He motioned to the magazines. “You could have done it the sneaky way.. That’s got my address.”

“I’m not a sneaky type.” You replied. Namjoon nodded.

“Appreciate that. Well.. “ He inhaled and picked up one of the smaller pillows, then lobbed it at the far end of the couch. “...If you want to call them back, I’ll give you my address–officially.”

Did you REALLY want to call your friend right now? This place was pretty damned nice and so was the company. Mulling it over, you finally shrugged.

“In a little bit.” Namjoon’s brows dropped. You fumbled, continuing. “...If that’s okay? I mean…I can—”

“It’s fine.” His brows were soft arches over dark, comforting eyes again. “I like the company.”

“Me too.” It was exciting how the confession sent heat through you. Rubbing at your neck, you realized how sweaty and icky you still felt. Namjoon’s head cocked as he walked closer to you.

“I’m really glad we met today, Y/n. I like the isolation here but…Having another person around is even better, when I’m in the mood.”

“Is it?” You croaked, swallowing a lump. Your nod was almost a twitch. “..You’re in the mood to have someone around today?”

“I wasn’t at first.” Namjoon’s pause dragged on until you met his stare, gazing into the depths of his eyes right there, just above you. “..That changed…” He snickered and softly murmured “...for some reason.”

You could tell he was being cheeky and it was delightful. You couldn’t help giggling too.

“I wonder why..” You sighed.

After a minute, Namjoon looked around. “Let’s get a little more comfortable then. You want to go clean up? My shower’s back there..”

He indicated where he’d come from, with a nod. As if you hadn’t watched him go there prior, the apple pressed to your lips and heart pounding as you drank in this entire place.

“Thanks..” Was all you managed, head bowing a little. You slipped past him. Namjoon’s turn to watch you go briefly clear in your peripherals.

“Just pick whatever out of my dresser. Plenty to choose from. See you soon.”

“You have a beautiful bathroom.” You confided, watching Namjoon standing next to you. It was getting to a really nice addiction: you and he, just sharing this space. It’d only been a few hours but it was like a lifetime away from the rest of the world.

Namjoon looked away from the living room window and smiled at you. “Thanks.”

What you’d WANTED to say was ‘This whole place is amazing.’, but you weren’t psychic or brave enough to voice that–just yet.

Combing wet strands back, you shook your hair out again. It was still a little damp from the shower, but you felt so much better with the grime and sweat washed away.

You hadn’t realized just how much you’d collected tromping up and down the hills out there. Not until you’d felt the rivulets of perfectly hot water winding down your body under the massive shower head, did you really conceive how messy you’d gotten.

The whole shower experience here left your skin humming and nicely warm. A far cry from your apartment’s modest water pressure and scalding or ice cold temperature poles. If you were honest, you could get used to this.

“I appreciate the compliment.” Namjoon finally said. “I wasn’t sure about the head but it’s got your approval. Think I’ll keep it.”

When you locked eyes, he winked, grin wider than before. He was more handsome with dimples.

“What else do you do out here, alone?” You voiced your curiosity this time. Maybe it was the inhibitions washed away with the sudsy heat or something else at play, but it was out before you could regret.

Namjoon took it well.

“Alone? Hmmm. Sometimes I sit out on the back deck or soak in the hot tub outback and stare at the sky. Listen to nature. Ponder the big questions in life..”

It all sounded pretty damned good. Beat the hell out of your couch and the usual television fare.

“Hmm.” You stared at him again. Another question slipped out as quickly as it had popped into your mind. “...And when you’re not alone?”

You matched the way Namjoon raised a brow. When he chuckled your chest went light.

“Bit of an intimate kind of question, isn’t it?”

“Maybe.” You retorted. “If what you do is something intimate.”

Like storm clouds rolling across a sky, darkening the beauty with impressive danger, a shadowy energy flitted through Namjoon’s eyes. But you weren’t scared. You were absolutely riveted. For once in your normally gun shy, socially conservative life.

“And if I said it was something intimate?”

He was good, dodging a direct answer just enough. He knew just how to feed your interest with words and the things between them. You licked your lips, feeling them twitch as your tongue rolled along.

“..Sounds like a good time. Care to share?”

Who were you, suddenly digging for details? Normally this was kosher for your friends. You’d earned the right, but with a basic stranger like Namjoon? You knew you had a lot of nerve. And you were taking a HUGE gamble.

“Mmm.” Namjoon stepped close again, not much space now between the front of his body and your own. You didn’t back up, lifting your chin to keep eye contact. His smile shrank.

“I do whatever I want. Or..my guest wants. I’m interested in being the best host I can, if I have company.”

“Yeah?”

Namjoon nodded. He let you take another breath, then continued.

“You’re my guest. What do you want to do? What’s your pleasure?” It was really, REALLY sexy the way Namjoon was opening his place to you. And from the energy you detected, he was willing to give himself too.

“Have you ever done it here?”

“Done ..’it’? What’s it?” He queried, teasingly. Your forehead felt hot again. You blinked and Namjoon leaned down a little.

“..You mean sex? Are you asking me if I’ve fucked here?” His breath washed across your lips. You couldn’t help nodding or the whine that escaped. Namjoon’s hungry stare burrowed into your soul. He nibbled briefly on his lip.

“I have. Plenty of times. It’s been a while, though.”

“Has it?” You squeaked as he ran fingertips along your jaw and added pressure at your chin, tipping your face up more.

“Mmnhmm.” Namjoon’s smile unfurled again. “..Has it been long for you?”

You stammered, suddenly amnesiac over the last time you’d properly fucked. Of course you had, and the experiences rated ‘okay’ by usual standards, but work and life wedged a lot of time between each session. Forgettable was too perfect a way to describe how it all seemed now.

“It’s been a minute.” You finally managed.

“Want to remedy that?”

Maybe it sounded corny coming from anyone else, in a dark, muggy club dancefloor or bar, but Namjoon’s suggesting it now came off only as unadulterated heat. And something you wanted so very much.

“Yes.” It was a gasp. Maybe a plea.

“God Y/n..” Namjoon watched your fingers circling his broad wrist. You pulled his hand closer to your lips and grazed them over a few fingertips. You tingled as his lips parted and his lids lowered.

Whatever he was trying to say you were sure it was the same feeling flooding through your entire body. Pulsing inside you, ending right between your legs as they trembled like they’d never done before. More than any hike could ever induce.

You cut him off. “..Relax me, Namjoon. Make me forget everything for a while.”

It was like the shadow darkened hallway stretched on forever as Namjoon moved, carrying you. You couldn’t wrap around him more, but you wanted to try, tightening your thighs around his waist.

He didn’t have wide hips, but they were sturdy as he walked, pacing slowly across the wood floor in a leisurely path to the bedroom. You dimly knew the space waited beyond that doorway at the far end. And you wanted time to condense again, to bring you both where nature said you should be: in Namjoon’s bed.

Doing things that nature intended for two people at the mercy of attraction were fated to do.

Namjoon didn’t pause kissing you as he opened the door, then bumped it wider with a hip. You were in the bedroom, the setting sun’s rays barely filtering through the treetops outside the nearby window.

As he paused at the bed, then leaned over it, the kiss broke. Reds and fiery orange hues outlined Namjoon’s triangular upper body as he braced a palm into the bed, finally leaned over enough that your back met the mattress.

“Let go.” He whispered.

You fell entirely into the bed, grateful for the cushioned fall. Your hair and limbs splayed. Namjoon’s eyes stayed on your, enjoying your slow wriggle as he grasped his shirt and hauled it up, then off. It met the bed nearby.

Your own hands clutched down the length of your body, finding the shirt you’d chosen from his offered selection.

“Don’t.” Namjoon growled, dropping his bottoms next. Then his briefs, unbothered at the ferocity of his erect cock springing vertical on escape. He mounted the bed on one knee, outside your hip, then the other one joined and he loomed over your again, head to toe bare of a stitch of clothes.

Sure you’d pondered how he looked in that shower when he’d taken his turn. And under those tight workout pants in the store. Now all was coming clear. All was on a platter, right in front of you—or over you, as it were.

Your body arched, breasts jostling. Namjoon cupped the outside of a breast and stroked his thumb across the nipple. It perked and he studied the shape through the t–shirt. A garment you desperately wanted to lose.

In the game of ‘naked’, he was leagues ahead of you.

“I’m…Namjoon, please–” You sputtered, then groaned loudly when he pinched that tight nipple between his thumb and forefinger, then tugged. His touch was gone in a blink and he gathered your shirt, pushing it higher, up to your neck. Head bowed, he backed down towards the foot of the bed a bit more, until his mouth stopped above your navel.

“Let me.” He purred, peeling down the boxers you’d borrowed too, and taking them to your knees. While one hand pushed them to your ankles, then off, Namjoon’s nose spiraled your mound.

You heard his inhale. The groan he let out was sinfully needy too. You bent your right knee, drawing that leg up a little more and lifting your ass off the bed. Delivering your pussy right against his wide open mouth, swooping in to latch onto your clit.

Namjoon sucked deep and tight, lips perfectly sealed. Then the pulsing started. He was quiet enough, only making a pop sound when he pulled away now and then.

It wasn’t like he needed to suck your clit or slide his tongue through your folds to open them. It already felt hot and slippery. Your flesh ached in a way that said making out had long since done the trick.

But Namjoon was enjoying himself and explored with his pointer finger, tracing it through you, stopping down at your opening. Teasing the winking muscle until it clenched again and your thighs shook.

“You’re so wet..Y/n. You like this don’t you? Are you always this ready when it’s been a while?”

You nodded. You couldn’t be sure it was true but if that’s what he wanted to hear, if felt like the truest answer you could give. He seemed to accept it diving down to lick, then stab his tongue deeper into you, pushing through your muscle.

He scooped your widening thighs up and wrapped them over his shoulders. Hugged them against the sides of his neck as he moaned, jaw dropping wider open. Pushing into you, lifting your hips higher and bringing your ass off the bed again.

A lake of heat was swirling in your belly. You wanted to tell him you were close because you felt like the edge was right there, you precariously toes over and staring down into the fall.

But you couldn’t get the words out. It was only a long, confused hiss of pleasure as fingers slid into you. Pulled out and dipped in again. Namjoon’s fingers worked to stir you up inside, drawing slick out from the depths, slathering it all over you on the outside. Making a delicious mess.

When you couldn’t take it anymore and your chest heaved, Namjoon pulled back enough and shrugged your legs off his shoulders. He joined them together and turned you onto one side, hooking them neatly over the bend of one elbow, palm planted deep into the bed with an impressive divot.

It was so much concentrated weight focused into one point, you felt the bed sink just a little. Namjoon’s face came into view over you. He groped between your bodies, finding himself and guiding the tip to nest perfectly against you.

When his bare cock slid inside you, it was done in a single, firm stroke. It wasn’t about the power of his thrust. It was the unhesitant drive in his hips, planting his cock deep and pushing a strangled gasp right out of you.

Your upper body twisted, neck and head craning away. Profile bracing into the bed, you inhaled, head spinning off the scent of clean, fresh soap, light sweat and errant traces of Namjoon’s natural scent.

You keened as he pulled back, slid a hand down your side and cupped the hip facing up, then sunk back in. The pumping was seamless. He flowed in and out of you, building speed but keeping the perfect depth. Hitting spots inside you that sent sparks across your scalp. Sent rails of fire down your spine. Curled your toes, when he circled into you and his hips snapped.

“You feel so good on my cock.. God baby..that’s it..” Over you, Namjoon’s exhale coasted along your skin, burning hot as he muttered wondrously.

You could only whimper, nails sunk into the crook of his nearer elbow, head rolling back to keep your briefly open eyes focused on the ceiling beyond Namjoon’s rocking head.

He murmured. Fucked. Pushed your knees high as he folded your twisted body up more. Condensed what little tight, wet space was inside you, more and more. There was only so much room and it was full–slick came out more and more as he pulled out and rammed back in.

It was an unmistakable wet slap loud and clear over Namjoon’s huffing. He was putting in the work and you were back at the edge, now something invisible wrapping and pulling you over. You tumbled, cumming hard. Cumming quick, seizing around his cycling cock.

Namjoon’s head lolled backwards, but he kept going, through your rippling walls. Working up a froth through the creamy mess building as you squeezed and pulsed. Your throat opened as you groaned out a “P..Please..don’t s..stop…”

Your guts seized so hard you couldn’t cry out when Namjoon heeded your request and let himself really go, fucking you deeper. Harder. Jerking your whole body up the bed as he followed. You weren’t escaping–not from him. Not from the gut wrenching orgasm ripping through you.

The world whited as your eyes rolled up entirely, leaving you sightless. Your purpose on this earth: to feel every bit of ecstasy rushing through you and sending you to the brink of human experience.

With the release of pressure a trickle followed down to your ass. Namjoon faltered. His lips dove down to your ear.

“..Inside or…o..out..”

No time to think meant no room for regret. You HAD to know.

“Inside. Fill me up, Namjoon..” Your lips joined in a deep, ravenous kiss, gobbling up his moan as he shuddered. A few rough thrusts later, he was still, plunged deep, pulsing. Your twitching pussy probably felt like heaven to him as he emptied every drop into you.

When it was over, Namjoon carefully pulled back. His cock slipped out and you felt emptier. For a moment your muscles stayed open, then closed up tight. Like they were determined to hold onto every ounce of what this man had just given.

“Holy…shit.” Namjoon wiped a forearm across his brow and laughed slowly, Adam’s apple dancing.

“You felt..so good.” You blurted out. It took a few moments to see beyond the last rays of sunset through the window. The bouquet of colors was gone, leaving a muted, reddish haze.

Namjoon’s shoulders flexed back as he rolled his neck. “..If you could understand how your pussy feels.. Fuck..” With a groan he combed his bangs back.

“Worth the wait?”

You tickled the downy trail running south, below his navel, then situated both calves on the outside of his hips. Namjoon’s hands rested loose on your hips. He wasn’t shy, eyeing your whole body and wearing the smirk of a job well done.

There was no doubt he’d smashed your previous experiences. Your insides twitched and your head had barely cleared. You’d just come back to the present, cobbling together enough focus for basic conversation.

“And then some..” Namjoon hummed, seizing your wrist and bringing that hand to his lips. He tucked a kiss into that palm. Leering down at you, he cupped that hand against the center of his chest. Right between those big, perfectly muscled pecs.

“Ready to call your friend?” There was a distant hope sparkling in his eyes. You knew as well as he did: No was acceptable, again.

“In a little bit.” You murmured, then glanced at his bedroom door. He’d left it open. His mouth shifted into a half grin.

“Something else you want—maybe somewhere else around here?”

“Well I noticed a hot tub outside.”

“That’s right.” Namjoon’s muscles shifted under your palm. Your fingers curled along his skin, lightly pressing in, trying to feel more. You wanted more of him, not just the tour of his place.

“We should try it out.”

“We can do that. A soak is good for the muscles.”

“I’ve heard that. ….Got time to give me a full tour after that?” Whatever he might have planned for the rest of his night, he didn’t flinch and his expression stayed pleasant. Welcoming, like his gaze following your legs up to your core and taking a long time to linger there.

“You’re really changing my mind about this whole cabin in the woods thing.” You added. Namjoon puffed his chest and leaned forward, releasing his hold on your hand as if he knew you’d keep that palm against him.

You didn’t prove him wrong, adding the other palm as he pressed down over you. A kiss was on the horizon and you tipped your face up. His weight felt good on you–Namjoon’s large frame trapped you in the best way.

He was warm. His cock was tacky but already semi hard as it inched across your belly.

“I’m always up for a chance to change an opinion. We can go have a soak and you can think about calling your friend after.”

You offered a faux pout. “Are you saying I have to leave?”

“That’s not even close to what I said. Definitely wasn’t thinking it..” Even being faintly chastised felt good. You couldn’t say you had the same take away back at work, in front of your boss or direct report.

“Good to know.” You snuck a look down to what you could make out of your body underneath Namjoon. It was still damp enough between your thighs. You knew it wouldn’t be as bad as it had been still in the act, but you knew a wipe down was in order before you dared stick a toe in his hot tub.

Call it respect, but you also wanted a chance to explore what things looked like after you’d been daring enough to ask for and receive what had to be a healthy load inside. That hadn’t happened since your last committed relationship.

You looked up again, watching Namjoon’s face disappear as he sucked a kiss at the bottom of your neck, where it joined your shoulder. Afterwards he sat up and backed down the bed. He offered both hands to help you up.

When you stood upright face to face, the bed at your back, you felt shy. Your legs felt surprisingly weak. You swallowed, finding your mouth cottony.

“Let’s grab a drink too. You can show off your kitchen and the living room? You’re into photography I noticed.”

“What makes you say that?” He tugged you along, taking a step at a time backwards towards the bedroom doorway. If it hadn’t been his cabin, you’d wonder if he’d walked around his place in the city like this. What was that place like?

You wanted to know more about who Namjoon was beyond this big getaway spot in the woods and his generous many-card credit power.

“I saw photo albums on your bookshelf.”

“Yeah.” Namjoon’s features smothered darkness as he crossed the bedroom door threshold into the hallway. “I dabble now and then. Whenever I’m here.”

“Would love to see it.”

“We can add that to the tour. I do like to keep my guests happy.”

“And I think I like this whole day in the woods. Might be time to find out about what a weekend away would be like.”

Namjoon’s body was against you again as your travel paused midway down the hall. You didn’t have to see, only feel and you knew he was going for a kiss. You surrendered your mouth and he took his time, tongue exploring lightly.

“A little Me Time…I can support that–in more than one way.”

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