#namjoon imagine

[ugh-yoongi]

a word from our sponsors | knj

you’ve co-hosted a podcast with namjoon for three years; have known him even longer. the two of you have always been the picture of platonic, but that hasn’t stopped the internet from doing what the internet does. the shipping? a little weird at first, but you can understand it: two attractive twenty-somethings always in close proximity to one another, obvious (platonic!) chemistry—people have created ships for less. the fanfiction, though? also pretty funny… until you can’t stop thinking about it. 🎙️

pairing: namjoon x f. reader genre: podcast, friends to lovers au; crack, smut, fluff rating: explicit. minors do not interact. warnings: parasocial relationships galore, a m*n with a p*dcast, author abuses italics, swearing, alcohol, reader uses a pseudonym/nickname (piper) because writing the meta fanfiction scene would've been too weird without one and i refuse to use y/n, dialogue-heavy but it is a fic about a podcast, everyone is down horrendous, mentions of social media & fake r*ddit posts, ex-boyfriend yoongi but in a good, healthy way. let me know if i missed anything but mostly this is just two goofballs not realizing they're in love with one another. smut warnings: kissing, oral sex (f. receiving), fingering, unprotected vaginal sex (fiction), protected vaginal sex (nonfiction), a lil squirting, mild degradation, mentions of a p*ss kink but there is no actual pee i promise (...lest?), i didn't intend to write size kink but it's namjoon so it just showed up anyway, slight dom!joon, everyone orgasms. wordcount: 17.5k credits: this was entirely inspired by that one episode of the basement yard where frankie reads the smut fic of him and joe, so credits to both that author and that podcast. spotify, for their podcast name generator. astro-seek for helping me drag namjoon astrologically. an extra special, gigantic thanks to @effortandmore for writing the meta fanfic (3k of it, no less!) and not batting an eye when i said it could have pee in it as a joke. this is as much yours as it is mine. finally, @hot-soop and @the-boy-meets-evil for reading this over for me and telling me i'm funny. author's note: happy birthday, indigo! here i am to validate every fear you've ever had that the people you write porn about may one day read it. live and on air. :)

You’ve co-hosted a podcast with Namjoon for three years.

You can learn a lot about a guy in that amount of time.

None of it is especially salacious. You know all about his family and his dog and the brand of recycled paper towels he insists on buying in bulk. You know what he’d written his grad school thesis on and what he’d looked like in the thick of it, when he was staving off his fifth mental break of the week. You know how fidgety he gets when it’s closing in on Friday night and he’s got a date—how much he stresses over which restaurant to pick, which cologne, which expensive cashmere sweater to wear.

You also know what the internet thinks about him. Intimately.

Kim Namjoon, according to the internet, is peak husband material. He has cheeks ripe for pinching and thighs small countries would go to war to defend. He has a lap that doubles as a seat and dimples people want to get baptized in. He has Instagram selfies with hundreds of thousands of likes and comment sections full of intelligible keysmashes, especially the ones he posts from the gym.

Kim Namjoon, according to the internet, is a man written by a woman.

Looking at him now, you aren’t sure that’s true, you think people just need to raise their standards. Namjoon is just… Namjoon. He’s intelligent and kind and up to date on modern feminist theory, is all. And, sure, maybe in the current political landscape that puts him far above the rest of men, but the way the internet has latched onto him is a little concerning.

“There’s another post about whether or not we’re dating,” you say, pushing your glasses up the bridge of your nose.

sooo let’s be real here, we ALL think they’re dating, right?? Posted by u/pod-shipper 2 hours ago

Just like he always does, Namjoon huffs out a soft laugh, makes his way around to your side of the table. Puts his large hands on your shoulders as he leans in close to read from your screen, snorting every time he reads a sentence he finds particularly amusing. Whichever cologne he’d chosen this morning is, admittedly, very nice.

It’s sooo obvious, especially in the episodes they film and post on YouTube. The way they look at each other?? I don’t even look at my HUSBAND like that! (+1264) ↳ omg ur sooooo right! i could MAYBE buy that they aren’t full on dating, but they’ve def at least slept together. Namjoon is so 🔥🔥🔥 (+791) ↳ um how can namjoon be dating her when he’s already married to me 😌💅 (+3) ↳ For the millionth time, can we not speculate on their personal lives? This is weird and reinforces really harmful ideas that men and women can’t just be friends. (-51)

“How come they never talk about how hot you are?”

You can tell by the look on Namjoon’s face that he hadn’t meant to say that—or, if he did, he didn’t mean to say it like that, with an entire pout, eyebrows raised nearly to his hairline. “Cursed to be ugly and dumb,” you joke to ease the sudden tension, reading the comment that simply says you’d have to be the dumbest person alive to not sleep with Namjoon.

He scrunches his nose at that. Returns to his side of the table. “Yeah, I don’t think so, lots of people haven’t slept with me.” Starts to unpack all the gear from his bag before he says, “Hey, all that stuff—does it bother you?”

“What do you mean?” you answer, the corner of a protein bar stuck in your mouth. Namjoon always insists on recording at the most inconvenient times.

“People thinking we’re together,” he clarifies.

You shrug. “I dunno. Not really. Comes with the territory, I think, not to mention how much you love to overshare—”

“Hello?”

“I’m just saying,” you retort, hands raised in self-defense. “There really was no need for you to mention you blew your grad school stipend on a porn scam.” Namjoon looks affronted, like he can’t believe you’d stoop so low as to bring that up. “Or that you lost your virginity at fifteen.”

“We have a relationship podcast,” he states simply. “That’s kind of what we do, right? Talk about relationships? And the spectrum of human sexuality is part of that.”

You slump back in your chair as you quirk an eyebrow. “No one said it wasn’t, I just said you overshare. Which you do.”

“And that’s why there’s a dozen Reddit posts a week discussing whether or not we’re dating? Because I overshare?”

“Yeah, exactly. That’s the kind of behavior that leads to parasocial relationships. People latch onto that shit. Makes them think they’re your friend.” He glares. “Don’t give me that look, you know I’m right. It’s bad enough you’ve word-vomited all this highly personal information about yourself, but to not even do it under a pseudonym? It’s like you’re begging for trouble.”

Another comment he doesn’t even realize he’s making: “I don’t beg. For anything.”

To this day, you’re not sure why Namjoon asked you to co-host a podcast with him.

His reasoning had been simple: “You’re my best friend and we don’t agree on anything.” Hard to argue with that. Namjoon has seemingly endless patience, even in the face of things he shouldn’t entertain, and you… do not, to put it simply.

You’re not a cold person. Your fuse isn’t short. You’re just a little jaded, is all. Have far less propensity for bullshit than Namjoon does, so the two of you play well off each other. You end a sentence with a well-punctuated full stop and Namjoon’s right behind you to sigh and say maybe you shouldn’t be so hasty, not everything in the world can be so black or white.

Except some things are. Somewhere along the way, the podcast—which Namjoon had affectionately named Place Him Gently in the Garbage, even though some people should be shoved in there with force—had picked up a following. A big one. And now, every week, you’re inundated with emails ranging in severity. Sometimes people just want to vent after their tenth bad date in a row or share funny stories, and Namjoon lets you take the lead on those, but sometimes it’s a little more serious. That’s where Namjoon shines, all that endless patience, and people love him for it.

“What’s on the agenda today?” he asks, accepting a thick stack of papers from Jungkook.

Ah, Jungkook.

You aren’t sure what he actually does. Some kind of social media manager, which is obvious from the wildly out-of-context clips he posts of you to TikTok, and it’s his responsibility to go through the thousands of emails you get from listeners, but aside from that all you’ve got are your suspicions that he just sticks around to swindle Namjoon out of more and more money.

“I’m in a silly goofy mood,” comes Jungkook’s reply, and you let out a witch cackle as Namjoon winces. Nothing good ever comes of Jungkook being in a silly goofy mood, and that’s quite alright by you.

Fifteen minutes later finds you with a camera in your face that you greet with an unamused, flat stare. Jungkook is used to it by now. Just films for a few seconds before turning his attention to an unaware Namjoon. Head down, pen and highlighter going a mile a minute as he pores over the stack of papers with all the doggedness and eagle-eyed stare of a literature professor.

That’s the thing about Namjoon—he takes this really seriously. So do you, but not in the ways Namjoon does. He’s all skill and determination and you’re color commentary. It works. It clearly works, so you aren’t too bent out of shape about it, but sometimes you worry. Namjoon takes this really seriously and sometimes you worry that he takes it too seriously, that he carries the burdens and worries of all these strangers, that he’s trying to solve and fix things that aren’t his responsibility to solve and fix.

So he takes it really seriously and you don’t take it as seriously as you maybe should, and everything is by design. Balanced.

Twenty minutes later finds you staring across the table at Namjoon, who asks, “Are you ready?” and does one last equipment check before he launches into, “Welcome back to another episode of Place Him Gently in the Garbage with Namjoon and Piper. What’s new with you, Pipe? Any fun news?”

Pipe. It drives you nuts. Feels like nails on a chalkboard. “I see you almost every single day,” you respond dryly. “But for the sake of entertainment, I’m thinking about getting a cat.”

“A cat?” Namjoon parrots, and his eyebrows disappear beneath his fringe because he knows what that means.

You’ve co-hosted a podcast with Namjoon for three years, but you’ve known him even longer.

Since your first year of college, which is also when you met Yoongi. Yoongi, your ex. Yoongi, the person you’d been with for six years and had planned a life around. Yoongi, now one of your closest friends, because the two of you still love one another but no longer in that way, which is fine. But also—Yoongi, allergic to cats.

So, yeah. Namjoon knows what that means, and he has the good sense not to mention it. Unlike him, you’re intensely private and keep your cards close to your chest. Your listeners don’t even know your real name, let alone that you’d gone through a breakup a year ago.

“What kind of cat?” he continues, like his entire world hasn’t just been turned upside-down.

You shrug. “Eh, I don’t know. Probably one that’s been in the shelter a long time, I guess. I’m not too fussy, you know?”

“Right, a cat is a cat,” Namjoon says, thinking he’s done something. You and Jungkook gasp at the same time. “What? Why are you giving me that look?”

“Because that’s a fucked up thing to say! A cat is not just a cat. They have little personalities, just like people. You’ve got—”

“But you just said you’re not fussy,” he interjects. “And I know they have personalities and that you have to find one that suits your lifestyle! Like, you can’t have one of those really cool cats that likes to go kayaking and shit, it’d never work—”

“What does that mean? Why couldn’t I have a cool cat?”

“Hey, all you cool cats and kittens,” Namjoon mocks, and you can tell he thinks he’s done something again, but his impression falls flatter than flat. An awkward silence fills the studio. He coughs. “Anyway. Do you have pictures?”

“Yeah. I also have a list of candidates ranked by how cool their names are. Number five, Casserole.”

“That’s cute.”

“Mhm,” you agree, “but Casserole is a kitten, and I’m not sure I’m ready for that kind of responsibility.”

“They do say you should adopt kittens in pairs.”

“And that’s how they get you. You want one kitten and they talk you into two, and before you know it you’ve got, like, twelve cats. Number four, Party Girl.”

“Sick name.”

“Number three, Toddler.”

“Toddler?”

“Number two, Flat.”

“Just Flat? Understandable.”

“And, finally, number one: Human Torch.”

“Yoooo.” Namjoon laughs. “You have to adopt Human Torch. Let me see.” You pull up a picture on your phone and hand it over. “Okay, for our listeners—Human Torch is a young, male Domestic Short Hair. He has stripes. I don’t know what that’s called.”

“Tabby,” Jungkook chimes in.

“Jungkook says he’s a tabby. He’s cute. Adopt him.”

You return your phone to your pocket. “Maybe. I still think I want an older cat, but I’ll consider it. What about you, though? Any new dating horror stories to share?”

Ah, the dating horror stories. Your most dedicated shippers are convinced they’re fake, that Namjoon just makes them up on the spot to keep them off your trail. If only. Not in the if only they were fake and Namjoon and I were actually dating kind of way, but the holy shit one of my closest friends is a fucking disaster and it’s a little embarrassing kind of way.

“Not really,” he answers. “I’ve got a date this Friday, though. Trying to decide if dinner and a movie is too boring.”

“It’s a classic for a reason. What are you gonna see, My Big Fat Greek Wedding 3?”

“Three?” Namjoon emphasizes, truly sounding scandalized. “Since when are there three? I haven’t even seen one or two.”

“Okay, first of all, the original is a classic and it’s a crime you haven’t seen it.”

“And second of all?”

“There is no second of all. Repeat point one.”

He snorts. “I’m not gonna see that, anyway. Maybe the re-release of Howl’s Moving Castle.”

“Subbed or dubbed, though?”

“Are you trying to get me canceled?”

“Absolutely.”

“I like both,” he chickens out. “Now, let’s stop wasting time and get to the point of the show.”

“Talking about cats is a waste of time?”

“I—no, we’ve just got a lot on the agenda today.”

“Like what?”

“Well, there’s lots to talk about on the celebrity front—”

Namjoon loves this part. As esteemed and educated as he is, not even he is immune to good old celebrity gossip. (Inside him there are two wolves.) Lives for it. Texts you about it at all hours of the night. Sends you links to Reddit threads with hundreds of comments. Has more opinions on Celebrity Big Brother than he does on Ludwig Wittgenstein, sometimes, and when that’s the case you know you’re in for a long evening. You’ve never even seen an episode of Celebrity Big Brother.

But Namjoon loves it, so you’ve become fond of it by association. Reminds you a bit of Yoongi and his love for sports and sports anime.

“—one should we start with?”

“Whatever you want,” you answer, because you haven’t been paying a lick of attention and you aren’t sure it matters anyway. Namjoon can talk to a wall on a good day, but he’s an entirely different beast once mundane, innocuous celeb gossip gets involved.

And even though you hadn’t been paying attention, it seems like this was the right thing to say, because Namjoon smiles so wide his dimples crater his face. “Cool. Let’s start with Taryn Manning. Did you see that bizarre—”

“Who?”

“What?”

“Who is Taryn Manning?”

Namjoon looks a little dumbstruck. Even Jungkook’s arching an eyebrow at you. “Are you serious? She was in Orange is the New Black and Crossroads.”

“The Britney Spears movie?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh. Weird, okay. Continue.”

Your co-host shoots you a very pointed look. “I will, thanks. Anyway, she posted a video on social media talking about this affair she had with a married man. Like, she pulled over on the side of the road to record this. Said she can’t stand the man’s wife because she called her a quote-unquote lunatic.”

“I—huh, thought we weren’t supposed to say that anymore. Alright.”

“But wait, it gets even more bizarre. Listen to this quote—and this is direct. This is a direct quote from the video, I can’t stop thinking about it: ‘Don’t you ever threaten me when your husband came to me to get his butthole licked.’ Can you—”

“What? Namjoon, what in the fuck—”

“It’s crazy, right? She was gonna buy this guy a boat.”

“Namjoon, this is a family show, you can’t just talk about ass-eating unprompted.”

“No it’s not.”

“Well, you still shouldn’t talk about ass-eating unprompted. It’s unbecoming.”

“You’re unbecoming,” Namjoon fires back, because he can’t help it. The words are out of his mouth before he can think. “Sorry, that was out of line.”

You sigh. Know whatever look Jungkook is catching on his camera right now is exasperated and pointed, the corners of your mouth probably tugged up just a hint. “Unbecoming, like I said.” Namjoon scoffs. “Anyway, so this actress was gonna buy this married guy a boat and was eating his ass?”

“Yeah. Apparently it was her friend’s husband? They all went to a Taylor Swift concert together.”

“Jesus, this keeps getting worse. Big year for Hollywood cheaters.”

“It is, right? Cheaters and divorces. Something in the water, I guess.”

“I saw the astrology girlies saying a bunch of planets are in retrograde, so—”

“Can you explain that to me? Like, what does it mean for a planet to be in retrograde? Why is it causing divorces?”

“I don’t know, I’m not an astrology girlie. That’s why I said the astrology girlies. What are your big three, though?”

“What’s that?”

“Your sun, moon, and rising signs.”

“How do I find that out?”

“Ugh,” you intone, “don’t worry about it, I’ll do it myself. What time were you born?”

Namjoon rattles off a time.

You grab your laptop. Pull up the page, type in Namjoon’s date of birth and birthplace, and wait. Then you’re staring at a circle with a bunch of lines in it that also don’t make a lick of sense to you. You roll your lips to keep from laughing and school your voice into something deadly serious. “Bad news: it says you’re a virgin.”

“Virgo,” Namjoon corrects, not taking the bait. “I already knew that.”

You scroll a little further down the page. “Your moon is in Sagittarius. Oh god, listen to this, they’ve got you pegged: ‘The greatest need is to always search for something. In order to feel safe you need a philosophy or belief’—”

“Haaa, that’s not—”

“—’You need to have a goal or mission that gives your life meaning. Your faith must be voluntary and it is a paradox that fighting against dogmas may lead you to other dogmas.’ Yeah, that’s you.”

“That could apply to anyone,” he argues. “There are seven-billion people on this planet; I’d imagine a sizable amount of them would say that also describes them.”

“Hm, sounds like your faith in astrology is not yet voluntary. Did you know you’re a Scorpio rising?”

“No. I’m sure you’re gonna tell me all about it, though.”

You smile. “Correct. ‘People with Scorpio on the Ascendant need to fight against dark and destructive power in their life.’ Is that true?”

“Yeah, you’re the dark and destructive power. You keep sidetracking me and we need to get to the point of the podcast.” He grabs the stack of papers Jungkook had given him. Looks more highlighter than paper, if you’re being honest. “I guess Jungkook thought we needed a lighthearted kind of day.”

“That was nice of him, considering what he gave us last week. I guess we’re allowed to have faith in humanity today.”

To your left, Jungkook scoffs.

“Alright,” Namjoon starts, putting on his Very Serious Podcast Guy voice, “first up we’ve got a question from one of our listeners in Canada. It says, ‘Hi, Piper and Namjoon. I recently agreed to go on a blind date with a friend of a friend. She said he was a bit old-fashioned but really talked him up so I thought I was in good hands—and then he showed up to get me in a ‘67 GTO and exclusively referred to me as doll. He didn’t use my name once. I’m torn, because he was really nice and I had a good time otherwise, but this is weird, right? Should I see him agai—’”

“No,” you interject.

“Can I finish?”

“You don’t have to. This guy sounds greasy.”

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. “And why is that?”

“Ignoring the fact that this guy has arguably one of the lamest classic cars around, he didn’t use their name once? Not once, in all the time they spent together? That’s really disrespectful.”

“Some people are just pet name people,” Namjoon argues.

“With absolute strangers, though? It’s really giving the impression that he didn’t even know it, not to mention some people are uncomfortable with pet names. The whole shtick is super lame.”

“I agree it sounds a bit misguided, but—”

Ignoring Namjoon, you say, “Sorry you had to go on a date with the ghost of less-cool James Dean. Into the garbage he goes.”

And, just like he’s done a million times before, Namjoon rolls his eyes and says, “If you really like this guy and want to see him again, a bit of communication will go a long way. Tell him the pet name made you uncomfortable—if it did—and offer to pick him up for the next date. I don’t think he’s completely destined for the garbage, yet.”

“You’re just saying that because you don’t have a license. You probably think a 1967 Pontiac GTO is the pinnacle of romance. That’s probably like picking someone up on a Specialized Aethos to you, eh?”

“That’s a fifteen-thousand dollar bike, I’ll have you know.”

You groan. “Oh my god.”

Ep: #183 - Namjoon is a Virgin

I think Namjoon had the right idea on this one. Sure, the car can be considered lame, but I think a lot of men are deeply insecure and therefore overcompensate when it comes to dating. Women are hard to impress when they have unlimited options. You have to stand out, so I’m glad he advocated for him. Piper can come off like such a misandrist sometimes. (-649) ↳ just shut up bro namjoon would fuckin hate u (+204) ↳ Imagine caring about something like this when they’re getting a cat together 🙄 (+19)

You think about the cat thing for nearly a week.

Adopting a cat is certainly not the worst idea you’ve ever had, and truth be told it’s been a little lonely, living by yourself. No more Yoongi in your space; no more Holly. So, having a new little friend around might do you some good.

It’s just—

It’s a big commitment, and there’s also the dog sitting-shaped elephant in the room. Ending things on good terms means you’re still Yoongi’s second-choice sitter whenever he has to go out of town, and while you love Holly dearly (the two of you had adopted him together, after all), he’s a lot like his father in a lot of ways.

Should I get a cat, you type out, and it’s only been in Yoongi’s inbox a few seconds before the most unflattering picture you’ve ever taken of him is flashing across your screen.

“Are you dying?” you ask, because Yoongi doesn’t call you for much else.

And you already know what his response is going to be. “We’re all dying.”

“Lighten up, Yoongi. One might say being so existentially nihilistic before noon causes wrinkles.”

There’s a split-second pause. “It’s nine p.m.”

“Sure, but it’s before tomorrow’s noon, so it still counts.”

“Whatever. Listen, before you adopt that cat, I need a favor.”

“You going out of town again?”

“Yeah. Shouldn’t be long, though. A week at the most, five days if I’m lucky.”

“That’s fine, bring him over whenever. Yijeong’s busy?”

This pause is far, far longer. “No,” comes Yoongi’s eventual response, but it’s slow. Unsure. A two-letter word has never taken so long to say in the history of ever. “He’s, uh. Coming with me?”

Oh, you think. This is where your ex awkwardly and hesitantly breaks the news of his new relationship. You’ve known this day was coming, and this is what you get for staying friends with him. “This is a fanfiction plot,” you accuse. “Hot, mysterious man moves into a gaudy apartment complex after ending a long-term relationship and meets his equally-hot and mysterious neighbor and they fall in love.”

“I—that’s not—my apartment is not gaudy.”

“Yes it is. There’s a giant gold bust of a weird bird in the lobby.”

“Weird bird?” he parrots. “It’s a swan.”

“I see you’re not denying the in-love-with-your-neighbor accusations.”

“Am I on trial?” Yoongi retorts, and it’s such a Yoongi thing to say when what he means is, is this okay? He means, are we able to talk about this without it being weird? He means, I won’t ever say as much out loud, but your acceptance means a lot to me, and I’d like for you to give me this.

So you lower your voice and soften the edges because it’s not really something to joke about, and you say, “No, of course you’re not on trial,” and Yoongi knows what you mean. “And if you were, you'd get locked up for fifty years. You can’t lie for shit.”

There’s a beat of silence before he clears his throat, mutters a thanks that is so quiet you almost don’t catch it. “Send me pictures of the cats.”

Later on, once you’re freshly-showered and tucked into bed with a candle and a book (Eloge de l’amour by Alain Badiou at Namjoon’s insistence and request), your phone buzzes with a text from Yoongi—

Yoongi: toddler is a fucking hilarious name for a cat but so is flat Yoongi: it’s a tie for me You: Okay well pick one 🙄 Yoongi: yijeong says get both You: Both???? Is he paying my vet bills? Yoongi: kinda out of line to proposition him for money. flat is also good with dogs, js You: If he’s now being raised by you two, my perfect, well-behaved son is probably long gone. Does he even count as a dog anymore? Yoongi: me and yijeong both say fuck off Yoongi: holly too. he says he doesn’t miss you anymore and he’s not coming over now Yoongi has added Yijeong to the group Yoongi has changed the group name to #ThirdWheelChat Yijeong: Please don’t drag me into this. Also I did not say “fuck off” You have changed the group name to People Who Have Seen Yoongi Naked Yoongi: fuck you

You should’ve known something was going on with Jungkook, because it’d started like this:

(When you and Namjoon started the podcast three years ago, it was in the living room of his apartment.

Surrounded by books and plants. He loved to record in the afternoons back then—Namjoon loved to say it was because of his grad school schedule, but you’ve always suspected he just wanted to preen in the golden hour light, much like he’s doing now.

“Is this really necessary?” Jungkook whines from his spot on the couch. He’s already swindled Namjoon out of two bags of microwavable popcorn and three cans of sparkling water. “It’s a Saturday afternoon; I could be doing something so much more fun than this.”

Namjoon scoffs. “Are you saying this isn’t fun?”

“Yeah. It sucks, actually. This could’ve been an email.”

And because Namjoon is accomplished, mature, and absolutely incapable of not taking Jungkook’s bait, the space between his brows creases as he sends a murderous glare Jungkook’s way. “Stop eating my food, then. And drinking my drinks. And lounging on my couch like that—”

“I’m not lounging,” Jungkook argues.

“You’re manspreading all over the leather!”

“This is how I sit!”

“Well, knock it off! My couch is only for fun and people who think I’m fun!”

Jungkook rolls his eyes. “So you fuck on it?”

“What?”

“What other fun things could you possibly do on a couch?”

Namjoon blinks. “Watch… watch a movie?”

Jungkook groans, throws himself backwards against the pillows as if he’s suffering a Victorian ailment. “Jesus. No wonder you can’t score a second date.”

“Okay, that was a little uncalled for. There are a ton of reasons a person might not want a second date, and no one is obligated to go out with me—”

“Uh-huh. Anyway—”

You clear your throat. Try to hide your own can of seltzer you’d taken from Namjoon’s fridge in the midst of his and Jungkook’s bickering. “Not trying to be rude, but I have an appointment at the shelter at three. If, y’know. You wouldn’t mind speeding this up a little.”

“Oh! Yeah, of course—”

“Oh, so you’ll speed this up for her but not—”

Namjoon pinches the bridge of his nose. “She,” he begins, jerking his thumb in your direction, “isn’t needlessly complaining and actually has someplace to be.”)

It was just a quick little rendezvous in Namjoon’s living room to come up with a rough draft for the following month’s episodes. He couldn’t do it over text because he’d fallen down the steps at his office and landed on his ass on the corner of a step and his phone had been in his back pocket. Cracked clean in half. And he couldn’t do it over email because he—rightfully—knew Jungkook would ignore them because he has his inbox set up to send all of Namjoon’s personal emails to the trash.

But Jungkook holds onto things like that. Grudges. Loves to let Namjoon think bygones are bygones and pop up a few days later with some evil scheme. Hence:

“What is this?”

Jungkook smirks. Rocks back on his heels. “It’s fanfiction.”

“I can see that, but… why?”

This is where Jungkook shines: the ominous, cheshire cat grin; the aw, shucks demeanor that gaslights Namjoon into thinking Jungkook couldn’t possibly be fucking with him. “Well, you were having trouble coming up with ideas for episodes, and there’s an email in there from someone whose partner reads really expli—”

“Jungkook, this is fanfiction about me.”

You can’t help the laugh that escapes you. Of all the weird shit you’ve seen on the internet (and there’s been a lot), fanfiction of people you know—your friends—was something you’d managed to escape. Probably by virtue of not knowing anyone famous enough to warrant fanfiction being written about them.

But you should’ve known. You really, really should’ve known.

“Oh my god?”

You’re not sure who says it. Could be you or Namjoon, but the sentiment is the same. He mouths a what the fuck at you that’s met with a shrug. You’re in uncharted territory now, too. “Where did you even find this?” you ask, taking the stack of papers from Namjoon. “And why did you print it out?”

“Because I’m going to track down whoever wrote it and get them to autograph it. Then I’m going to buy a nice frame and hang it on the wall behind him, so we never forget this historical moment in Place Him Gently in the Garbage lore.”

“It’s a podcast,” Namjoon deadpans, “how can it have lore? And how much lore can there possibly be?”

“It’s the internet,” you concede. “The lore possibilities are endless. Don’t tempt them.”

Jungkook nods sagely, well-versed in the degeneracy of the internet. “Yeah, that’s how you end up with shit like 4chan.”

“4chan? There’s Space Jam porn on there.”

As the youngest, all Jungkook can do is roll his eyes. “Sometimes explaining this shit to you feels like trying to teach old people how to rotate PDFs—”

Namjoon scoffs. “I’m not that bad. I know how to rotate a PDF.”

Wow, Jungkook mouths. “Anyway, back to the fanfiction—”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” Namjoon interjects. He looks at you. “It’s weird, right? Like, it’s weird that people have written this about us?”

About us.

Your scope of the world narrows to the size of a pinhead. It’d just been about Namjoon before. This is fanfiction about me, he’d said, and you hadn’t been included in that. Now it’s written about us and you’re included.

“I—what?”

“It’s about us,” Namjoon repeats.

Jungkook rolls his lips. “It’s about the two of you fucking, to be specific.”

“Can you not—”

“Fucking a lot,” Jungkook continues. “So much fucking.”

Namjoon looks at you, and it’s all you can do to keep from laughing. The look on his face is pure bewilderment, both that Jungkook has cooked up this idea and is hell-bent on executing it and that he remains employed. And maybe it’s a little bit of nerves, too, because neither of you are ignorant of the risks. Reading fanfiction about yourselves—about the two of you as a couple, specifically, or at least two people who have sex—is weird. Not something you can unread.

And maybe it’s because you’re so determined to not make it weird that you send Namjoon a cheeky, exaggerated wink, shrug your shoulders, and say, “I’ll need a couple drinks, but I’m down.”

Jungkook throws his head back and cackles wildly, and that look of bewilderment on Namjoon’s face morphs into something else. Trepidation, maybe; definitely disbelief, because sometimes he lets himself get swept away in Jungkook’s schemes, but it’s rare that you follow suit.

As Jungkook continues to laugh, you wonder if you should’ve said no.

Namjoon has two stipulations: the two of you have to film the episode completely alone, and he, too, needs to be a little drunk.

The latter? Piece of cake, considering Namjoon has become some sort of whiskey aficionado in recent years. His drinking is streamlined and to the point—he knows exactly how much and what to drink to get him where he wants to be. You can’t say he isn’t efficient.

The former, though? Borderline impossible. From the second Namjoon states his terms, Jungkook is having none of it. Argues that he’s the one who found the story and the one who cleared it with the author, so he deserves to witness the fruits of his labor.

“No,” Namjoon repeats for the nth time, “no way. I’ll barely be able to do this with just her, let alone both of you.”

And that—that doesn’t bother you, right? You force a laugh, because why would it bother you?

There are few secrets between you and Namjoon, except your respective sex lives have been staunchly off-limits. Namjoon could be a virgin for all you know, and as you study him—the way he keeps bobbing his leg, the slight shake in his hands—you wonder if that’s the reason he’s being so weird about this.

It’s just a story.

Fiction.

Most people don’t have to worry about someone writing stories about them fucking their friends. If they do, you reckon even less actually read them. So, sure, it’s a little strange, but people from all over the world send in stranger stuff all the time, don’t they? It’s literally the reason you’re in this predicament.

Eventually Jungkook agrees. His whining has gotten him nowhere, so he just throws up his hands. Posts a cryptic little “u guys won’t believe what the next patreon ep is lmao” that sends the internet into a frenzy. Doubles your Patreon numbers almost immediately, and both you and Namjoon do a good job of pretending the pressure isn’t overwhelming.

Jesus. You have to read explicit fanfiction about yourselves. On camera.

Namjoon gets caught up with work and isn’t available until the weekend, so you’re forced to sit with the nerves for a few days. Not too bad at first, but you’re nearly coming out of your skin by Thursday with the need to know. You’re well-versed in the world of fanfiction, but this is fanfiction about you: your name, your likeness, maybe even your personality.

What will they know of Namjoon, though?

Will they get it right, the way he looks with his jaw clenched? How impossibly deep his voice can go, both when it’s raspy with sleep and when he’s fully at ease? Will the Namjoon in the story be closer to the Namjoon you know, or the version of himself he presents to the public?

And you’ve known him a long time—long enough that there are few secrets between you, but you don’t know the most intimate parts. All the parts the internet loves to speculate on. All the little gaps that, apparently, need to be filled in by fanfiction.

Will they know what Namjoon looks like when he gets off?

No, you scold yourself, jerking awkwardly like you’ve been burned, and neither will you.

Because you are not going to think about this. Your thoughts are not going to go there. Namjoon is your friend, and you’ve listened to him scold an endless amount of men on the podcast for exactly this behavior. Sexualizing their friends. You’re not going to do it, too.

Maybe that’s why you’re kind of seeing double when it comes time to record. Namjoon needed an extra shot and offered you one as well. You’d necked it without a second thought and now you’re here, trying to ignore the slight tilt of the room as Namjoon adjusts the camera.

“How’s the shot look?” he asks, gesturing vaguely behind him at his laptop screen because Jungkook had refused to lend you his fancy cameras if he wasn’t allowed to be involved.

It’s a completely normal question.

It’s a question you’ve asked and answered a million times.

Except—there’s something horribly distracting about Namjoon in this moment. The outline of his back muscles through the thin fabric of his t-shirt. The way the sleeves are tight around his biceps. He’s always been a gym rat, always carries around a protein shake that smells and looks completely foul, but you can’t remember it ever being this obvious.

And you take too long to answer, because Namjoon straightens up just enough to send you a concerned look. Which does not help. You are not imagining what else might cause his brows to pinch like that, what might have his lips parting, have sweat dotting his hairline.

You swallow. Hard.

“Looks fine,” you manage to say. He’s still staring. Are you on fire? You feel like you’re on fire, which would make sense. Would explain Namjoon’s sweating and concerned stare and the fact that he cannot stop staring at you. “Maybe a tiny bit to the right if we’re being picky,” you tack on, hoping it’ll break whatever spell the two of you are ensnared in.

It works. “To the—the right, yeah, makes sense,” he rambles.

He moves it an inch to the left.

—

Things are tense, to say the least.

Recording hasn’t been this awkward since your first episode, or maybe ever. You’re sat across from one another like you always are, and usually Namjoon would be making quip after quip by now, talking endlessly until Jungkook shushed him long enough to get the intro filmed. Now, there’s just silence.

“Should we…?” Namjoon startles. Bangs his knee on the underside of the table and drops a string of curses. “Sorry, are you—”

“I’m fine,” he says, cutting you off. He gestures vaguely toward the camera. “I’ll just… yeah.”

Showtime.

You wipe your hands on your jeans, unsure of when they got so damp. Unsure of when you’d grown so nervous, too, because you’d been fine an hour ago. Had strolled in with two cups of tea and a little too much confidence, giddy at what you were about to do.

Maybe the nerves had shown up alongside the alcohol. This sounds reasonable, and you do not, under any circumstance or for any reason, think about Namjoon’s back. Or his biceps.

Namjoon makes it through the intro, dimples deep and wide as he smiles, and you also don’t think about the way his voice cracks and gets a little breathy when he introduces you. It’s only because he’d been drinking, and the flush on his cheeks attests to that. The same flush that creeps down his neck, still a little sweaty; disappears beneath the hemline of his shirt.

“—Jungkook had. Right, Piper?”

Now it’s your turn to startle, and there’s not much you can do to hide the obvious except ask Namjoon to redo the shot. Because it’s bad enough the internet already overanalyzes every move you make, every word choice, every instance you’ve stared at Namjoon a second longer than they thought you would—this is a blatant display of… affectedness.

“Sorry,” you say, “I wasn't paying attention. Can we redo it?”

You’re expecting a playful scolding. A ha ha, get it together, because that’s what you usually get. But there’s nothing aside from Namjoon studying you and nodding. Asking if you’re okay. Saying, “Is this—this is weird, right? Is it too weird? Maybe we shouldn’t—”

An out. Namjoon is giving you an out, and you should take it, you know you should take it, so there’s absolutely no reason at all you shake your head and say, “No, no, it’s fine! I think I’m just a little, uh. Drunk?”

“Are you sure? We can—”

“It’s fine, Joon,” you insist. “Besides, it’ll be good content, right?”

“Good content,” he parrots. “Yeah, for sure.” He fidgets in his seat, runs his hands down the span of his thighs. Very, very thick thighs. “I’ll grab us some water.”

You faceplant onto the table as soon as he’s out of the room. When did his thighs get so thick?

But the water helps. Cures whatever strange, insatiable thirst has come over you, because you feel much more human after a few glasses. Less drunk, too, which makes sense. Yoongi could barely escape your drunken, horny wrath when the two of you were together, so you chalk it up to a Pavlovian response.

Namjoon does the intro again. Introduces you strong and steady, not a hint of nerves, and explains, with a fresh blush taking over his upper body, what the episode’s going to be about. “Someone wrote fanfiction about us,” he says, scratching at the back of his neck. “It’s, uh, pretty explicit. Jungkook thought it’d be funny if we read it.”

You snort. “He might get fired, depending on how this goes.”

“He should get fired regardless,” Namjoon deadpans. “Anyway, we have permission from the author to read this so don’t come after us, and, as always, we’ll put all the credits in the video description.”

“Special shoutout to Jungkook, though, who was not allowed to be here with us for this momentous occasion.”

Namjoon laughs. “I’m sure he’s having plenty of fun at home.” You both pause. “That’s not—I’m not implying anything with that! I just meant—you know, like. He’s hanging out and enjoying his day off.”

“Uh-huh.”

“Moving on. I have two copies of this. Do you want your own?”

You grin, wicked and wide. “Nah, just read it to me.”

“Making me do all the work,” he huffs. “Typical.”

“There’s a stack of papers in front of you that might say otherwise.”

It’s clear you catch him off-guard. He cocks an eyebrow, opens and shuts his mouth a few times like a goldfish. An obvious question sits on the tip of his tongue: You think you’d be in charge? Instead he coughs, jerks his head to the side, and says, “I guess we’ll see.”

It sounds like a challenge.

Thirty seconds is all you get before Namjoon’s shuffling his stack of papers and clearing his throat. Asking if you’re ready and jumping right into it once you say you are. Reads the first few lines like they’re some old lecture notes, and they’re conservative and safe-for-work enough that you start to relax.

And then Namjoon reads, “A louder one wonders if Namjoon is a pet name person—if he’d call her ‘honey,’ or ‘gummy bear,’ ‘babe,’ or ‘baby,’” and you choke.

“Gummy bear?”

Namjoon laughs along with you—the weird one that almost sounds like a dog panting. “You want me to call you gummy bear?”

“I want you to call me a Lyft,” you snark. “I’m leaving.”

He continues:

And that’s how it starts, wandering thoughts, wandering fingers—the first time Piper comes to the thought of Namjoon calling her baby, pushing inside her, showing her that he definitely doesn’t beg, but she does… Well, she’s a little ashamed. She’s apparently got a reputation to maintain, anyway, not to mention a friendship.

His eyes leave the paper and lock onto you. “Or maybe you’d prefer baby?”

“Fuck off.”

Weeks after that first time, it’s become a habit, thinking about Namjoon as something more than a friend. It’s confusing and a little mortifying and it’s starting to affect her in ways she hadn’t expected. When they record, she feels fidgety—she’s jumpy when he gets close, has all the stupid obvious tells of an unwanted crush: her breath hitches when he whispers (why the fuck is he whispering in her ear, anyway? Doesn’t he know what that does to a person?) inside jokes to her so Jungkook can’t hear, her heart rate spikes when their fingers accidentally brush, she feels itchy and hot and a little embarrassed whenever he holds eye contact with her. It’s terrible, and it’s only made worse by the way he’s doing all of those things more than usual. Or, at least she thinks he is, thinks she’s not imagining the way his eyes linger on her more than she can remember happening before or the way she’s caught him staring at her lips when she chews on the end of her pencil mindlessly. 

You’ve completely forgotten how to breathe.

Namjoon’s staring again. You need to salvage this. He’s only on paragraph three and you’re already squirming in your chair and imagining things that are not appropriate. So you roll your lips, return his teasing. “Well? Do you stare at my lips?”

It works. “No,” he scowls.

“You sure?” you joke, morphing your face into something half-pout, half-duck face.

“We’re never gonna finish this if you keep making comments.”

“You started it,” you point out. “Go on, then.”

There’s some dialogue. Some prose that hits way too close to home, has you wondering who on earth wrote this and how they plucked every single thought from deep within your psyche. A pang of fear that maybe you haven’t been as subtle as you’d thought all these years. A moment to confirm to yourself that, no, you haven’t been harboring a secret, deeply-buried crush on Namjoon.

Then he reads—

And then he kisses her. It’s greedy and hot, his lips like a branding iron. She moans a little against her better judgment when he licks at the seam of her mouth, and in return, she can feel Namjoon’s lips curve into a smile against her own. It’s better than she’d been imagining it, really. He’s a good kisser—firm at the right times, soft when she needs it, careful but not cautious. He holds her jaw with one hand and keeps her right where he wants her beneath him (as if she’d want to move, anyway).  When their lips finally part, he rests his forehead on hers. It’s intimate in a way she hadn’t expected, and he looks at her as if she’s the answer to every question. Finally, he whispers, “What’re we doing, Piper?” His lips are still wet and pink and a little swollen from kissing, and she barely hears the question—she’s too busy thinking about kissing him again, about pulling his plump bottom lip between her teeth, teasing and…  “Kissing,” she says finally.  “What do you want?” he asks, sinking to his knees in front of her. And if that alone isn’t an answer to his question… “Whatever you’re willing to give,” she replies. It feels like she’s wanted this forever, this and so much more. Once she got the idea in her head, it’s hard to know if she ever felt differently, ever truly thought they could just be friends. Or, if in the back of her mind, in the dark corners that she never lets see daylight, she always knew she wanted Namjoon. Always knew she loved him.

—and everything goes right out the fucking window.

Namjoon sits with those words for a moment. Scans the paper in his hands and frowns a little when he confirms what you already know. “The rest is, uh. Porn.”

“That is why we’re here.”

“Last chance to back out.”

“I’m not scared,” you lie. “Are you? You’re the one who keeps stalling.”

He huffs. “You’re a pain in my ass,” he retorts, and then nothing is all that funny anymore.

Because Namjoon was right: the rest is straight-up porn. He’s barely able to read the part where he goes down on you with a straight face, turning a deep shade of crimson. Stutters through the part where you pull his hair, and that is not something you needed to know about your friend. You think he loses his grasp of language entirely when he reads, “When he slides a long finger into her and brushes past her most sensitive spot, she arches into him and lets his name fall from her lips in a soft cry. Piper, notorious skeptic, is a babbling, trembling mess as she gets closer to her orgasm,” because all the words are garbled together, producing nothing but gibberish. You think he’s ready to keel over and die when he reads, “Namjoon pulls away briefly, lips slick with her juices, and licks over his top one, pausing to tell her how good she tastes before he dives back in.”

“That was nice of them to include. I appreciate their attention to detail in regards to my personal hygiene.”

“This is so embarrassing,” he whines.

You roll your eyes good-naturedly. “Gimme. I’ll finish it.” He hands over the papers immediately.

Except you regret it immediately. The words you’re staring at are not words you ever thought you’d read or recite in your entire life. Not even for a million dollars. “Oh,” you say instead.

“See? Not as easy as it looks.”

“This is really embarrassing,” you confirm. “I might need another shot.”

“Y-yeah. Alcohol sounds good.”

Namjoon staggers forward obligingly, looks completely fucked out and pliant, willing to do whatever she asks. She remembers the sounds he made when she pulled his hair, wonders if he likes being bossed around, if he wants her to tell him what to do, to be a little mean to him. Maybe it’s different from her dreams, maybe he will beg her. She wants him so badly, she’d do anything for him. So, she pulls his briefs down to expose his absurdly large member, already mostly hard, and slaps it. Gently at first to see how he’ll react, and when he shudders and jerks his hips, she does it again, a little harder. “Look at you,” she whispers, “such a needy boy.”  He whimpers at that, eyes pleading. “Please, Piper…” he whines.   “Please what?” “Please let me fuck you,” he begs. She wants to, wants him so much, wants to feel him stretch her open, and from the looks of his cock, thick and long and drooling with precum, he could. “Should I?” she asks. She musters all her confidence to keep the condescending tone up. It feels wrong given how desperate she is to get him inside her, but it also seems to be getting him worked up and equally as desperate. “Do you even know what to do with that big, stupid cock?”  Namjoon’s cock twitches, and he begs, “I—I’ll fuck you so good, Piper…. I know how, I promise. Just… please?”

“Oh my god,” the two of you say in unison.

You so badly want to ask if this is biographical. How Namjoon feels about a little degradation; what he’d do if someone actually called his cock stupid. Ifsomeone has called his cock stupid. You dare a glance at him and conclude that someone’s had to. Namjoon just has that kind of energy.

But you can’t ask because it’d be weird, so you keep reading.

“How do you want me?” she asks softly when their lips part. There’s a wild look in his eyes, like he’s processing all the possible options out of everything he’s considered. And then it occurs to her. “Have you imagined this before? Thought about how you’d fuck me?” she teases him as she stands, stepping into him. Piper pushes one hand through his hair, brushing it back off of his forehead and wraps her other around his dick, squeezing a little for emphasis on her words. “Yes,” he groans as she strokes him, thumbing at the head of his cock. “Tell me what you want, then. Want me on all fours for you? Want me to show you how it’s done, to let you lay back and ride you so you don’t have to put in any work?” Namjoon’s breathing is getting heavy, pupils blown wider with each suggestion. 

“I told you!” you shriek, laughing in between the words. “I told you I’d…” And then your gloating tapers off, because what happens next has your brain malfunctioning.

“All of that,” he whines as she lets go of his hair and brings her hand down to run a fingertip over his perineum. “Want all of that. Want to bend you over the table and fuck you right here. Hear your sounds in the microphone.” Even in her dirtiest thoughts about him, she hadn’t considered the microphone, hadn’t considered recording it. When she thinks about it though, it makes sense. Namjoon is exactly the kind of person that would get off to someone’s voice. So, she does. She makes a show of turning around and slowly bending over the table, sliding her upper body across it carefully until she can reach her microphone and turn it on. When she says into it, “What’re you waiting for?” she sees over her shoulder the way that Namjoon shivers.

This is… not good. You’re never going to be able to look at a microphone the same way, which is extremely not good for a person who supplements their income with a very popular podcast that requires them to speak into a microphone for extended periods of time.

This is very, very bad.

Namjoon must be thinking the same, because he lets out a strangled a-haaa that’s less of a laugh and more a plea to God, the gods, the entire gamut of higher powers that might be able to save him. No one’s going to, you think, staring down at the paper again. This godless piece of fanfiction will be preserved on the internet forever, will be seared into your mind forever, and no amount of praying is going to erase it.

“I should, uh. Just read the rest, yeah? Get it over with?”

“Mhm. Yep. Yes, please.”

Don’t say please, you almost say. You can’t take it; not after what you’ve just read.

So you put on a show. Steel your expression and your nerves and take it seriously. Use voices and sound effects and desperately try to stave off the awkwardness you know is inevitable because a smut fic is probably only going to end one way, and that’s with you acting out Namjoon having an orgasm.

Maybe you’ll have another one, too, if the author is nice.

It’s sweet, she thinks, the way he’s easy for her, takes his time with her. Strokes his fingertips along her sides and kisses the back of her neck reverently. As much as she loves it, part of her hopes he’s not always like this—hopes he’ll give as good as he takes, hopes he’ll put her in her place. She can feel his cock hard against the cleft of her ass, not even inside her yet, and still, she thinks about next time and the time after that. “Still okay?” He breathes into her ear as his tip rubs against her cunt.  “Yeah—want you, Joon.”  “Never thought I’d hear you say those words.”  “I never thought you’d record them,” she teases, eyes glancing up to the flashing light showing the mic picking up all of this as he starts his slow slide into her.  Piper falls even further forward when he bottoms out, letting her forehead rest on the table. He’s whispering filth in her ear, about how he has something to prove, how she’ll never want anyone after this, how no one can fuck her the way he does.  She hates that he’s right.  Each stroke brings a new sensation: sparklers, butterflies, nerve endings on fire as he fucks into her and licks and sucks at her neck, her shoulders, her ear. Piper can’t even think, and this is what people mean when they talk about being fucked stupid, she decides.  It’s perfect.  Every time she thinks she’s getting close again, he changes something: fucks her a little shallower, moves his hips just a little, slows down, speeds up… It’s driving her crazy.  “Come on,” she whines. “I’m so close…” At least she can tell he is, too. No longer able to sustain the dirty talk, he’s breathing heavily, letting out broken moans and sighs of her name. He’s moving rhythmically now, thrusts consistently faster.  “Oh, fuck, Piper,” he groans, “Gonna cum.” One of his hands finds her clit and he rubs careful circles over her, bringing her to her peak along with him, no more teasing.  When she comes, it’s with a loud moan into the studio mic, and that seems to be what tips Namjoon over the edge, too. His hips stutter into hers as he comes, her cunt clenching around him for what feels like forever.

You deserve an award, you think. An Oscar. You didn’t even groan when you had to read the word “cunt,” and that’s a feat in and of itself.

“Is it over?” Namjoon asks, words muffled by the hands covering his face.

“Not quite,” you answer. “There’s some aftercare, and at the end you ask if I’ll piss on you.”

Namjoon gags. “I asked you what—”

“Today’s episode has been brought to you by Stamps-dot-com—”

HOLY SHIT THE NEW PATREON EPISODE???????? Posted by u/pod-shipper 4 minutes ago NO WAY. NOOOOOOO FUCKING WAY DUDE THERE’S NO FUCKING WAY THEY DID THIS AS AN ACTUAL EPISODE WHAT THE FUCK WHAT HTE FUCK WHAT EHTU FKF DFGLKDG;L (+705) I wasn’t sure if they were messing around before, and I was quite critical of the “shippers,” but now I’m pretty convinced. (+423) ↳ we’ve been telling y’all for YEARS 😤 (+197) ↳ Glad you’ve seen the light, u/RandomAcorn2058! (+5) ↳ ugh. they weren’t messing around before and they aren’t messing around now. do you guys not listen to what they say? namjoon’s been dating, and piper got out of a six-year relationship just over a year ago. if they’ve had something going on for “years” that means they’re both cheaters, and that’s a really shitty thing to assume about them. not to mention it makes the entire point of the podcast moot. (-63) Why do you guys think Jungkook “wasn’t allowed” to be there? (+314) ↳ So they could fuck lmao it’s so obvious (+329) ↳ because it’s awkward af? would you wanna read porn about yourself w all your coworkers in the room? (+2) ↳ the “it’s awkward” excuse is sooooo lame he’s the one who found it and is the one who edited the episode, he’s gonna see it regardless. (+15) ↳ Tbh I’m more curious about how he even found it to begin with? Do they have a throuple thing going on? Like, why was he looking for smut fic about his bosses? (+38)

You do not get through recording unscathed.

You are very scathed. Perhaps the most scathed a person has ever been.

Jungkook texts the group chat sporadically throughout the week, cracking jokes and making memes at your and Namjoon’s expense which is par for the course and shouldn’t have you off-kilter, but something inside you feels deeply wrong. Feels like someone’s given you devastating news; feels like it used to back in uni when you knew you’d failed an exam and were just waiting to see how badly.

It both helps and doesn’t that the internet is so invested. All the clips Jungkook keeps posting have re-doubled your Patreon numbers, and jumping up a tax bracket never hurt anyone, you included. But all of those jokes and memes largely went unanswered by both you and Namjoon, still too close to the incident to find the humor in it from the other side.

The two of you had sex.

Not literally, of course, but you figure you might as well have with the way you’re feeling. The way you’re avoiding one another. Someone wrote a story about the two of you having sex and you both read it and something about that, days later, feels really fucking unsettling.

In a bad way? You aren’t sure. It’s not like you’re mad or upset or any other synonym. You just feel… off. Itchy from the inside out, and that’s far from the norm in your and Namjoon’s friendship. In all the years you’ve known one another, you’ve never once avoided each other, including the time you’d set him up with a close friend and he showed up 45 minutes late to their date and ghosted after.

(Unsurprisingly, that friendship had not lasted.)

Maybe it’s because Yoongi had always been there as a buffer. You aren’t of the belief that men and women cannot be platonic friends, but being in a years-long committed relationship nixed a lot of awkward interactions and assumptions off the bat. Even Namjoon had known Yoongi first. Had introduced himself to you in your shared 100-level psych course with a, “Hey, you’re Min Yoongi’s girlfriend, right?” because they ran in the same underground circles and Namjoon had idolized him from afar for years.

Pretty fucked up, then, that Yoongi’s off in Los Angeles with his hot new boyfriend and you’re on your couch, Holly at your feet, pointedly ignoring your texts.

“I’m gonna get a cat,” you say to the dog, trying to redirect his attention when he starts chewing on your sock again. Holly doesn’t offer any input, of course, and he’s a lot like his father in that way. “I can’t believe you have a stepfather. You’re a proper child of divorce now, Min Holly.”

There are a pile of unread texts you continue to ignore in lieu of showing Holly pictures of adoptable cats. A few more memes from Jungkook, one from Namjoon’s new phone asking to move the recording date a few days because “something came up at work,” one from the food delivery service you admittedly use too much offering 10% off your next order, and two from Yoongi. This reminded me of you, the first one says beneath a picture of an ice cream cone on the ground, and another one of him holding a water gun that says send me a picture of my son or else.

You eventually reply back with a picture of your middle finger, Holly nothing but a blurred brown blob in the corner of the frame.

That’s how it goes for the better part of a week. Namjoon’s work issue lasts four days. He doesn’t offer an explanation and you don’t ask for one, you just wait for the all-clear text and try to quiet the nerves once you get it.

You’ve never been nervous to see Namjoon before.

The more popular the podcast became, the more money rolled in. The more money that rolled in, the more you could afford nicer things. That meant going from recording in Namjoon’s living room to a bona fide office space. Third floor, an expanse of windows and natural light, thirty-five minute commute by train.

Today, it feels more like thirty-five seconds.

You can hear Jungkook’s witch cackle from the stairwell, and your mind fills in the blanks of Namjoon’s exasperated sigh. It helps, your brain reminding you that you know these people. You know this is Jungkook’s late gym day, so he’ll be in a pair of sweats and a hoodie that drowns his frame. You know that when Namjoon has work issues and feels like an inconvenience, he always shows up with two boxes of baked goods from the bakery near his place, and you know both of them will save the best donut for you.

So you walk in and Jungkook’s in a hoodie and sweats just like you expect him to be, and there are two boxes of baked goods next to the coffee machine. Both of them say hello and wave and, for all intents and purposes, everything is normal.

Except it isn’t.

Because Namjoon looks… different.

Not in a bad way. Not in a bad way. He almost always dresses nicely, always looks polished and put-together, usually because he’s either going to or coming from campus—fitted shirts, either of the tee or dress variety, and earth-toned cardigans; tailored trousers that are sometimes corduroy; polished loafers. Sometimes, if he’s feeling extra casual, a stark white pair of tennis shoes.

Today, he wears none of those things.

No, today torture comes in the form of form-fitting jeans and a t-shirt a little oversized so he can roll the sleeves. His hair is brushed back off his face instead of parted down the middle. He’s wearing gold jewelry that glints in the sun. A pair of off-white Converse high-tops. And, much to your horror, he’s also wearing his glasses.

According to the internet, Kim Namjoon is peak husband material, which you can usually ignore, but not when he’s wearing glasses.

You avert your gaze, convinced you’ll burst into flames if you stare too long, not to mention Jungkook will notice and that’s a ribbing you’d rather die than take. So you avert your gaze and pointedly ignore Namjoon, who’s talking about his work crisis to no one in particular. Something about a co-worker going on an unexpectedly early paternity leave, and Namjoon being asked to cover some of his courses until they could find a more permanent fix.

Jungkook asks a question you don’t catch. Because paternity leave means his co-worker and his partner had a baby, presumably via old-fashioned methods, and it’s not a direct mention of sex but it’s close enough to send you into a coughing fit you have to blame on your donut. Neither of them buy it, but Namjoon is a good enough person to look genuinely concerned. Reaches out, probably to slap your back, but the thought of him touching you is just… too much.

So he barely gets out an, “Are you o—” before you choke down whatever’s left in your mouth and cut him off with a, “Yep, all good!” before you’re scurrying off to the opposite side of the room like a little rat.

It doesn’t get any better.

Both of you are so stilted and awkward during recording that Jungkook has to be the voice of reason and call it, suggest trying again tomorrow. Luckily he has enough b-side stuff he can release if need be, Namjoon’s work emergency providing a decent cover, and he sends the two of you home for the afternoon with all the exasperation and incredulity of a disappointed parent.

Thirty-five minutes back home.

Thirty-five minutes to sit in the embarrassment of not being able to do your job. Thirty-five minutes to catastrophize and wonder what you’re going to do if you can’t get it together. Namjoon will keep the podcast, of course; you’ll be replaced with someone else. Maybe someone less cynical, maybe someone more, but undoubtedly a man. After this mess, you can’t imagine Namjoon would want another female co-host.

But as embarrassed as you are, your traitorous brain keeps thinking about Namjoon.

Thirty-five minutes to think about his glasses and his rolled-up sleeves and the way the denim of his jeans contoured perfectly to his thighs. Thirty-five minutes to think about, “Please let me fuck you,” he begs. Thirty-five minutes to squeeze your thighs together and overanalyze the way he stumbled over his words today; how he could barely make eye contact. Thirty-five minutes to draft a dozen resignation texts and delete them all.

You groan, head thunking against the train window. You’ll take a cold shower as soon as you get home.

That’ll cure you.

You get home and walk Holly so long he gives up halfway through and you have to carry him back to your apartment. You take a cold shower and actually find it pleasant once the initial shock wears off, so it doesn’t work to keep all your rogue Namjoon thoughts at bay. You make a simple dinner and don’t think about Namjoon sitting you on the counter and having his way with you. You tuck yourself into bed far too early and consider going back to therapy, because clearly something very, very bad has happened to your psyche.

Needless to say, nothing cures you.

But it’s a new day, and you’re determined to get your shit together. Yesterday was a fluke, because you’re so normal and so capable of being in the same room as Kim Namjoon.

Except—you’re not.

Jungkook’s there when you arrive, mindlessly scrolling through his phone. Barely looks up at you to say hello, and barely returns it when you do. You double-check the time, because you can count on two fingers the amount of times you’ve shown up and Namjoon wasn’t already there, jotting down extensively-detailed notes, circling and highlighting and chasing down Jungkook to ask questions.

“Where’s Namjoon?”

Jungkook shrugs. “Dunno. Not here.”

You roll your eyes. “Super helpful, thanks.”

Jungkook rolls his eyes right back. “You don’t pay me enough to also be his handler.”

You bite your tongue. Arguing with Jungkook means you’ve already lost the war. Not worth it. But it still eases your worries a bit that he doesn’t know any more than you do. That Namjoon hadn’t only texted him to say why he was running late because he didn’t want to—or couldn’t—talk to you.

So you wait. And you wait and you wait and you wait. Jungkook lets you talk to people on his dating apps and tells you about his new gym routine until your eyes are glazing over. Orders food delivery for the two of you because he gets hungry after an hour and had already eaten what was left of the snacks before you arrived. Cracks a joke that isn’t really a joke about calling the police, because Namjoon still hasn’t shown up and he hasn’t said anything and none of your texts are showing as delivered.

You’re halfway to hour two when the office door bursts open and Namjoon stumbles through, soaked with sweat and stammering over apologies.

“I am so sor—I broke my phone again so my alarm never went off and then I missed my bus? And apparently they’re not running the regular bus schedule today so the next one was a half-hour wait, but then I…”

You don’t catch the rest, because Namjoon is covered in sweat and breathing heavily and a week ago you could’ve survived this. A week ago you would’ve cracked a joke and handed him a towel and told him to get to work. A week ago you would not have been paralyzed in your seat, transfixed on the sweat rolling down the side of his neck.

You are fucked beyond belief.

Jungkook elbows you in the ribs, bringing you back to reality. “...even paying attention?” You startle, face warming in embarrassment. Namjoon still isn’t looking at you. “This is so sad to watch,” Jungkook mumbles, and thankfully it’s only loud enough for you to hear. “Like some stupid shit you only see in nature documentaries.”

Well, you can’t really argue with that, now can you?

But you’re a professional above all, so you hum an acknowledgment and take your regular seat. Pointedly ignore Jungkook. Wait for Namjoon to assume his position as well, and you’re surprised to see the space in front of him empty. No notes. No script. There’s just… nothing.

“Are you okay?” you ask, gesturing to the space in front of him when he seems confused. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without a stack of notes in front of you.”

“I forgot them.”

“Don’t think I’ve ever seen you do that, either.”

Your tone is light and airy, not at all accusing or confrontational, but Namjoon’s jaw clenches nonetheless. He scoffs, fires a shitty little, “Were you not paying attention when I was talking about what a horrible fucking morning I’ve had?” at you that makes even Jungkook flinch. A few moments of stunned silence, and then, “Oh fuck, I’m so sorry, that was rude—”

“Yeah, it was,” you agree, and all of a sudden you feel too big for your body. Feel like there are ants beneath your skin, feel like everything is wrong, and you don’t want to be here anymore. “It’s fine. Let’s just—”

Namjoon looks like he wants to argue, but he just sighs and says, “I—yeah, okay.”

This is where Namjoon would usually launch into the intro, a dimpled smile already plastered on his face that’d drop as he discussed another failed first date with that brand of self-deprecation that makes him so endearing. This is where he’d say what have you been up to, Pipe, and you’d try not to groan because how hard could it possibly be to add one more letter, another syllable, but Namjoon seems incapable of it. This is the part that, for three years, has been seamless and easy and instinctual, just two friends having a conversation.

There’s a red light on your microphones that indicates you’re recording. It’s on and it mocks you, because Namjoon is not doing the intro or telling you about a failed date. He doesn’t use that cringey nickname. He doesn’t say anything at all. His mouth opens and shuts and no words come out. What’s worse is that you know exactly why he can’t speak, because you’re thinking about it, too.

“So, uh,” you begin, and Jungkook makes a gagging sound from behind you. “Come here often?”

Namjoon ignores you. “Right, right, the intro…” He sucks in a breath. “Welcome back to another episode of Put Him in the Trash, I’m—”

“Joon—”

“Namjoon, and my co-host here is—”

“Joon, that’s not—”

“Piper. Wait, why are you looking at me like that?”

“That’s not the name of our podcast.”

“Huh?”

“You said Put Him in the Trash.” Namjoon just blinks. “It’s Place Him Gently in the Garbage.”

“Is it? Since when?”

“Since forever?”

He looks at Jungkook, who is hiding behind his hands. “Is she right?”

A beat of silence. “I can’t do this,” he half-shouts, half-whines. “Are you two going to be like this forever? Because if you are, I’m quitting. I’m so serious. I’m gonna quit. I can’t take it anymore. The two of you are insufferable.” Another beat of silence, before Jungkook stands at full height and lords over you and Namjoon. “Forget today. Just go home and try again on Monday. This is so—I’m seriously gonna quit.”

Yoongi comes on Saturday afternoon to pick up Holly.

Yijeong isn’t with him, which is almost disappointing. Now that he’s dating again, you were looking forward to seeing just how awkward it could get with the three of you in the same room, but he looks good. Refreshed. The trip clearly did a world of good for him, and you can’t even bring yourself to crack a joke at his expense.

He, however, has no such hang-ups. “You look like shit.”

“Weird way to say thank you.” You click your tongue and look down at Holly. “Do you see how your father treats me? You should bite him.”

“My son would never. But also, thank you.” He flops onto the sofa. “You do look like shit, though. You wanna talk about it?”

“Not with you, preferably.”

“Oh, gross, is it a dating thing, then?”

“I—no.” You pause. It’s not a dating thing, but you still feel like you’ve got motion sickness whenever you think about it. How would you even begin to explain this to Yoongi, anyway? Someone wrote a porn fic about me and Namjoon. You remember Namjoon, right? Namjoon, that I’ve known and have been friends with since college. Yeah, that Namjoon. Anyway, someone wrote fanfiction about us having sex, and it fucked me up so bad I can no longer be in the same room as him.

No fucking way.

“You look like you’re holding in a fart.”

“You know, I’m getting really sick of you. Did you just come here to insult me?”

He snorts, but his smirk dissipates a few seconds later, a familiar seriousness filling the void. “We’re okay, right? Was the Yijeong thing too soon?”

“No,” you answer immediately, leaning over to flick him on the forehead. “We’re fine, and if you’re happy, then I’m happy for you.” He still looks doubtful. “You want me to start singing ‘I Will Always Love You’ or something? It’s just… weird work stuff.”

“Depends. Are you singing the Dolly Parton or Whitney version? And real work or podcast work?”

“Podcast work, and obviously the Whitney version.”

Yoongi seems surprised by this, eyebrows disappearing beneath his fringe. “Like, the podcast with Namjoon?” He presses his tongue into the fat of his cheek when you nod your head. “Not gonna lie, I didn’t think that was possible.”

“Like I said, it’s weird. It wasn’t, like, an argument or anything.”

“How weird?”

“You’re so fake, Min Yoongi. You act like you’re so distinguished and above drama, but really you’re just as hungry for gossip as the rest of us.”

He shrugs. “I’m not denying it.”

God help you, you’re going to rip off the band-aid. “Someone… Jesus, this is so embarrassing. Someone… wrote? Fanfiction? About us.”

“About you and Namjoon?”

“Yeah.”

“Oh my god—”

“About us… uh. Having sex? Specifically.”

“Oh my god—”

“Jungkook found it and thought it’d be funny if we read it for an episode.”

“Oh my god?”

“So we did? And it was really weird, which I expected, because I’ve known Namjoon for a long time, and I never, ever thought about having sex with him because we were together and me and Namjoon are friends, so yeah, it was fucking weird. But now… I don’t know. I can’t stop thinking about it? And now we can’t even be in the same room as one another.” Yoongi is a concerning shade of red. “So our show is gonna get canceled, because we can only release b-side stuff for so long until people realize something’s up, and it was Namjoon’s podcast to begin with so obviously I’ll get fired—”

“Oh my god, you want to fuck Namjoon.”

Yoongi sounds like a strangled cat when he says this, which does not help the way you feel like you’ve been hit square in the face with a frying pan. “No,” you argue, though it sounds more like a question. You do not want to fuck Namjoon. “No, no. No. It’s just because it was weird.”

“Did you forget I dated you for six years? I know what you look like when you want to fuck someone.”

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t be weird if someone wrote fanfiction about you fucking your friend?”

“Not if I didn’t actually want to fuck them, no.”

“You’re a liar. Get your dog and get out of my apartment.”

Yoongi laughs as he stands. Pats you on the back in the most condescending way you’ve ever had someone pat you on the back. “Let me know how it goes. No need to give me credit for your moment of horny clarity.”

Min Yoongi is a bastard.

Unfortunately, as you come to find out, he’s also a correct bastard.

You want to fuck Namjoon.

Which is… not great, you have to admit, considering he can barely stand to be around you, so you take another cold shower and decide you’re going to take this to your grave. You’re going to spend the rest of the weekend getting your shit together, and you’re going to show up on Monday and be a consummate professional. You’re going to look at Namjoon and say, ha ha, isn’t it so funny someone thought we would have sex? I don’t think about it at all because I am so cool and normal about it.

You’ve got it all planned out. You’re going to show up fifteen minutes early with your own box of pastries. You’re going to look nice, if not a little pretentious—maybe a nice sweater. You’re going to be prepared with notes of your own. You might even be nice to the villain of the week so Namjoon doesn’t have to pinch the bridge of his nose and sigh at you.

And then someone knocks on your door.

You find Namjoon on the other side, and all your plans immediately go to shit.

Has he always been this tall? You can’t remember. You can’t remember a lot of things, including how to speak, because Yoongi had launched you into a crisis of epic proportions and now here’s the source of it, standing right in front of you. With all of his… height. And thighs. And that heady, musky cologne he always wears, that you can still smell now even though there’s an unfortunate amount of distance between you.

“Uh, hi.”

You blink. “Hi,” you parrot, and it’s a little insulting how one single word seems to have sucked up all of your brainpower. “Namjoon,” you tack on, not awkward at all.

“Sorry to just show up,” he says, scratching at the back of his neck. Very bad idea; makes his biceps bulge. You barely swallow your whimper. “It’s just—my phone’s still broken, and it felt bad leaving things how we did? So I was hoping we could talk.”

Talk. Namjoon wants to talk to you. Normally: not a problem. Currently: big problem. You manage a nod, open the door wider to let him in, and you don’t think about how jarring it is to have Namjoon in your space. You don’t think about how your legs feel like jelly all of a sudden, or what it’d be like if Namjoon bent you over the couch, or the kitchen counter, or the—

You cough. “Do you want anything to drink?”

“Oh, sure. Maybe just some water if you have it.”

If you have it. What kind of person doesn’t have water? But you tell him to make himself comfortable and get him some anyway, and you mull too long over the size of the glass. Ultimately decide on a smaller one, because if things get unbearably awkward you can excuse yourself to the kitchen to get more.

“I haven’t been here in a while,” Namjoon says from the living room, and when you look up he’s sorting through a stack of books near the window. Some he’d lent you months ago, notes jotted in the corners, sticky notes in the shape of sea animals on important pages. “You ever wind up reading this?”

The Idiot. Namjoon had raved about it when he was in the midst of his 19th century Russian phase, right after he’d read a bunch of Tolstoy and Pushkin. You shake your head—though, judging from the title, you wonder if someone hadn’t written your biography.

“It’s good. If you have the time, you should definitely give it a shot.”

“Yeah, of course,” you say, handing over his water. You take a seat in an armchair, pull your knees to your chest. Namjoon’s still looking through your books, isn’t looking at you, so it feels safe to say, “You wanted to talk?”

“Yeah.” He moves to sit on the floor, massive thighs spreading until he’s comfortable. Thank god he can’t see the look on your face. “I just wanted to make sure we’re alright. Things have felt pretty weird since we filmed the, uh.” He coughs. “Thing.”

“Right, yeah.” You realize he’s waiting for an answer, and you offer up a very rushed, “We’re fine, Joon.”

“Are you sure?”

Yeah, you’re sure: sure you absolutely cannot be having this conversation in the safety and sanctity of your own home. It’s tainted now, contaminated by all your uncontrolled horny thoughts about the man in front of you. You’ll have to fumigate. Might have to pick up and move, actually, or call an exorcist.

“I’m sure,” you assure him. “The… thing… was weird, but it’s fine. Temporary.”

“Do you think we shouldn’t have done it?”

That’s the million-dollar question, isn’t it? Because, in isolation, reading a porn fic about yourselves wasn’t a big deal. No one got hurt. Everyone who needed to be consulted was consulted. The episode made the two of you a lot of money, and Jungkook even promised to send some of it to the author, so your bases are beyond covered.

So, should you have done it? There wasn’t a good enough reason not to, because the story itself was never the problem.

The problem is staring you right in the face. It’s sitting on your floor, a book cracked in half at the spine and forgotten in his lap. The problem is looking at you like you hold all the answers to the universe’s secrets, and it’s no small thing to be looked at like that. The problem is that Namjoon is looking at you like that from across the room but you’re wondering what it’d look like from on top of you.

The problem is that you’ve co-hosted a podcast with Namjoon for three years, have known him even longer, and you’ve just realized today that you want to have sex with him.

And you can’t say that, can you, because Namjoon came here to fix things which really does not lend itself to a hookup. Namjoon cares about your friendship and your working relationship so much he came here to try and salvage it, so you’re going to keep your mouth shut. You’re going to say, “I think it’s okay that we did,” and leave it at that. Because it is okay.

Because you’re the problem.

It feels like a small victory when Namjoon sags in relief. When he exhales and says, “Okay, good, because I think so, too.”

“It made us a lot of money,” you tack on.

Namjoon’s eyes widen as he laughs. “Right? Like, that was almost too much money. Just to watch us read porn?”

“About ourselves. I think that was the selling point.”

He stands. You do, too. “Never thought I’d be doing that,” he says, returning the book to where it belongs. “Definitely the most embarrassing thing I’ve done for money.”

“Being a man with a podcast wasn’t embarrassing enough?”

He snorts. Gets closer to the door. “Hey now.” You’re going to survive this. “Thanks for entertaining me, by the way. For a second there I was really worried we’d fucked it all up.”

Just the ending. Just one more thing to say and you’ll be done with this, and then you can take your third cold shower in recent memory and triple text Yoongi with a full-fledged mental breakdown. Maybe he’ll bring Holly back and you can register him as your emotional support animal.

And Namjoon must sense the awkwardness that’s crept back in, because he tries to cover it with a joke. Says, “Haaa, like you’d actually piss on me, right?”

Except it sounds like he’s got a mouth full of marbles.

It’s no wonder you mishear him.

Because he says like you’d actually piss on me but you hear like you’d actually kiss me, and there isn’t a universe that exists in which the following makes sense: you, stunned into silence in the doorframe, Namjoon saying his goodbyes, you thinking fuck it, last chance and saying, “Yeah, I’d kiss you.”

Namjoon stops dead in his tracks. “What?”

Your entire body is on fire. “Is, uh. Is that not what you said?”

“I don’t think it matters anymore what I said.”

“I’d argue that it does, for the sake of my digni—”

“You’d kiss me?” Namjoon… doesn’t look put off of the idea, which is surely a point in your favor. Interesting to note that his diction is crystal clear, now. Bastard. “You’d kiss me right now?”

There’s also no explanation for the way you say: “It’s only been an option for ten seconds and you’re already begging for it?”

You’d say there’s no explanation for the way Namjoon’s jaw clenches, the way he repeats I don’t beg for anything, but maybe the simple fact is: the two of you want to fuck each other. And, judging from the way Namjoon crowds your space, keeps dropping his gaze to your mouth, it seems very likely to happen.

All that fixating you’d done on Namjoon’s thighs was wasted, you think, as you take in the shape of his mouth. His lips. The way his tongue darts out to run along the bottom at the last second before he reaches out, tilts your head up, and finally presses his mouth to yours.

And you’ve got to laugh, because no piece of written fiction could ever accurately portray what it feels like. How soft his lips are. The way he touches you—gentle, but still dominant enough to have you moving the way he wants, have you backing up into your apartment so he can smile against your mouth as he closes the door behind him.

No piece of fiction would get it right, the way you’re unsteady on your feet, breathless at the way Namjoon’s kissing you. How he only breaks apart long enough to ask where do you want me in that throaty, deep voice of his. How you’re so overwhelmed you can’t decide: unsure if you want to waste the time it’d take to get to your bedroom, but if it’s only going to happen once, wanting to make it count.

So you decide to risk it. Plant your hands in the middle of his exceptionally broad chest and push him in the direction of the hallway, and if the two of you can’t wait, can’t control yourselves, well.

But the story had gotten one thing right: Namjoon does kiss like a branding iron, hot and greedy. Namjoon kisses you like there’s nothing else he wants to do in this lifetime, and it makes you dizzy. Has you off-kilter, stumbling into the wall as you try to remember where the fuck your bedroom is and why it’s so far. Just like the fictional version of you, you also moan when he licks into your mouth.

“Should I do it the way we did in the fic?” Namjoon asks as the two of you cross the threshold into your bedroom, a cheeky grin on his face. “Do it like this?” he questions, pushing you gently until you’re on the back in the middle of your bed, chest heaving as you lift your head to look at him.

Namjoon is so, so big from where you lay, just hovering at the foot of your bed. Cheeks ruddy, bulge prominent. “What’d you say you wanted?”

Takes a second to remember how to breathe, let alone what you’d read. What do you want, Namjoon had asked, right before he’d sank to his knees in front of you. “Whatever you’re willing to give,” you answer.

Namjoon smiles. Puts one knee on the bed, and the way it dips beneath his weight is unsettling. Why does he have to be so fucking large. “That’s right, baby.” Christ, you think, because there’s another thing that fic had gotten right. No one on earth would be immune to Namjoon calling them baby in that tone of voice.

The riposte biting at the back of your teeth gets swallowed whole as Namjoon grabs your ankles and drags you to the edge of the bed. “May I?” he asks, hands poised above the waistline of your leggings. You nod, and Namjoon drags down your underwear with them. “Fuck, look at you,” he groans, awe creeping into the edge of his words.

“You want me to do it the same way? Hm? You’re being awfully quiet; thought you were giving me shit about being the one in charge,” he chides.

Because you’re short-circuiting. Namjoon’s on his knees, just like you’d envisioned, and his mouth is dangerously close to your cunt. How can you be expected to think and speak under these conditions? But if Namjoon can find the brainpower to be a bastard, so can you, because what you’d read and the way he’d reacted can both never be forgotten. So you thread your hands into his hair and pull. The resulting moan is enough to sustain you for years.

“Are you gonna keep running your mouth, or are you gonna make me come on it?”

He blinks. “Jesus Christ.”

There’s precedent. Fictional Namjoon ate you out like a man starved, like he couldn’t get enough. Had fictional you writhing and insatiable, so it’s a lot to live up to, but it doesn’t deter him in the slightest. He hesitates for only a second, giving you one last chance to back out before the two of you set every last boundary on fire, and then he’s settling between your thighs and making you see stars.

Now you know what it’s like. Now you don’t have to rely on fiction, and it doesn’t matter because it’d never compare to the way Namjoon feels as he works to bring you to your ruin. The way he flattens his tongue to lick long, thick stripes; the way his lips suction around your clit. The way it feels when he groans against your core. The way he says, “Fuck, you do taste good,” like that’s a completely normal thing to say. Like he doesn’t know exactly what he’s doing to you.

But you need more and Namjoon knows it. His mouth doesn’t leave your cunt for a second, but his fingers find your mouth, so you put on a show. Wrap your lips around them, suck on them the way he’s doing to you, make sure they’re slick. Namjoon groans again, doubles his efforts. Slides one thick finger inside of you and barely lets you adjust before he’s adding a second.

In an embarrassingly short amount of time, Namjoon has you unraveling. Presses incessantly on a spot that has your vision whiting out. Has you trembling, a little panicked as you say, “Joon, fuck—Namjoon, wait—” as it builds and builds and builds.

You might black out for a second, because you come to and Namjoon looks… stunned. He looks like he can’t believe any of what just happened, and you blink a few times, try to come back into your body, and when you regain enough consciousness, you’re extremely aware of the large wet patch beneath you.

“Um—”

“Holy shit.”

“Namjoon, that’s not—that’s embarrassing—can you grab a—”

He shuts you up with a kiss. Presses the taste of you into your skin, and all those silly protests die in your throat, because if Namjoon was needy before, he’s desperate now. Covers your body with his own, hips dipping down low enough to press his erection into the juncture of your thigh, and the weight of him is delicious. Has you fisting the fabric of his t-shirt to pull him closer, has you pulling it over his head, his pants following. Has your hands skimming down every thick part of his body until you reach his cock, hard and aching and slick with pre-cum.

“I need to suck you off later,” you say, done with overthinking. Time to just be honest, and Kim Namjoon has a dick you need to feel down your throat. “Remind me.”

He whines, thrusts into your hand a little harder. “How could I forget that?”

“Don’t know. Didn’t know if this would be the only time,” you answer. “Did you bring a condom?” Namjoon nods, fetches one from his wallet and rolls it on.

He hovers above you again. Looks nervous, all of a sudden, like he can’t tell his lefts from his rights. All out of sorts. You’re about to tell him it’s fine, you don’t have to do anything he doesn’t want to, don’t have to do anything at all, when he says, “It doesn’t have to be.” You just stare. “The only time.”

There’s a conversation to be had. You know that. Both of you clearly have feelings you need to talk about and sort out, but you reckon they can wait. They’ll still be there in the afterglow, in the morning. So you nod, say okay, Joon, and kiss away the insecurities that still linger.

You think about the fic. Think maybe Namjoon would appreciate it if you cracked a stupid joke, just like he’d tried to do earlier. “Has anyone ever called your cock stupid?”

He laughs, breath fanning against your skin. “No. Wanna try it and see what happens?”

Might as well. You try to remember the exaggerated tone of voice you’d used. Repeat the line—“Do you even know what to do with that big, stupid cock?”—and wait.

There’s a beat of silence, and then—

Namjoon swallows thickly. “I, um. Unfortunately, I think that really works for me.” You laugh. Pull him closer. Wrap your legs around his waist as he starts to move against you. Has jokes of his own. “Please. Please let me fuck you.”

You roll your eyes, laugh tapering into a giggle. “Do you know how?” Namjoon nods, looking all too much like a puppy eager to please its owner. “Do you promise?” He nods again. “Okay. Okay, come here.”

You expect him to move fast; expect the first time to be frenzied and a little awkward. It isn’t. Namjoon lines himself up and pushes the smallest bit inside, and then he’s leaning down to kiss you. Threads your fingers together, squeezes your hand. Pushes further inside and mumbles praise just beneath your ear.

It’s dizzying, the amount of care Namjoon handles you with. How soft he is. Does nothing to ease the discomfort of the stretch, the overwhelming fullness, but he talks you through it. Tells you how good you feel, how beautiful you look. Spills a lot of words you’d probably be embarrassed to hear and he’d be embarrassed to say if this was any other time, but in the heat of the moment it all just works to unravel you faster.

He bottoms out. “Okay?” he asks, and you’re rewarded with a dimpled smile when you say you are. Namjoon is a devastating kind of beautiful.

But, as he gives you time to adjust and you give him the all-clear, he also fucks like a demon. What once was hand-holding is now your wrists pinned to the bed, your body caged beneath him as he rolls his hips at a pace that has your eyes rolling back into your head. You’ve been deceived. Lured into a false sense of security.

It’s almost a shame this isn’t being recorded, because you want to memorize all the sounds Namjoon’s making. Want to hear them for the rest of your life. Don’t want anyone else to be the reason he sounds like this, and as he ups his pace and presses his lips to your neck, you don’t want to sound like this because of anyone else, either.

Maybe one of those times in the future, you can talk him into it.

Namjoon reaches down, rubs circles into your clit. Every time you think you might be close, he pulls his hand away, smiles like the devil. You let him have his fun for a while, let him think you’re keen to lie back and take it, and then you tighten your legs around his waist and flip him onto his back.

He doesn’t think it’s very funny. Looks up at you all bewildered. “What’re you—”

“You were taking too long,” you snark. “Figured I’d take matters into my own hands.”

“Yeah? Shit,” he says as you begin to move. “Fuck, baby, like that. Ride me just like that.”

You do. Don’t change a thing, because Namjoon’s cock is long and thick enough to hit exactly where you need it to. You can feel yourself clenching, feel yourself getting wetter, and the sight of Namjoon beneath you does nothing to stave off the inevitable. He looks even better than you’d imagined: skin flushed, eyes squeezed shut, head thrown back, sweat-slick. You want to make him cry. Want to give him the entire world. You will.

Namjoon thrusts at the same time you roll your hips, and that’s what does it. Has you crying out, has stars flashing behind your eyelids. Has you saying fuck, fuck, fuck as he drives you over the edge for the second time. Has you on the brink of oversensitive as he thrusts a few more times to chase his own end, almost delirious at the way Namjoon moans as he spills into the condom.

Has you swooning, just a bit, at the dopey way Namjoon smiles at you, eyes half-lidded and crinkled at the corners.

“Was that okay?”

You snort. “Yeah, I’d say it was decent.”

“Maybe next time you could pee on me,” he jokes.

You whack him on the chest. “Sure. Or we could record it.”

Has you a little shocked at the way his cock twitches inside of you at the mention of it.

On Monday, you don’t wear a pretentious sweater.

When you stroll in, Jungkook’s already got the best donut shoved halfway into his mouth because he’s a shithead. He eyes you warily, probably hoping with all his hope that you spent the weekend finding God and getting your shit together.

And then he realizes you’ve got on Namjoon’s hoodie and he nearly chokes to death.

“What the fuck are you wearing—”

Namjoon appears at that very moment, and it’s so hard not to take credit for the way he’s glowing, the dazed smile on his face. But Jungkook notices, because Jungkook notices everything, and his gaze darts between the two of you: your hoodie, Namjoon’s face, your face. He opens his mouth, something inappropriate bound to spill out, but Namjoon beats him to the punch. “Ready?” he asks you, and you nod.

It’s seamless.

No hiccups, no awkward stuttering. Namjoon gets through the intro without a hitch, and it feels exactly like it used to. Just two friends having a conversation. It’s obvious Jungkook still wants to say something, but after suffering through last week, he stays quiet lest he makes it worse and sends the two of you back to the bad place.

“How was your weekend, Pipe? Do anything fun?” Namjoon rolls his lips, tries not to laugh.

So you play along. “No, not really, just some dog sitting. How about you?”

“Oh, you know me. Had another first date on Saturday.”

“Did you? How’d it go?”

“Perfect.”

It’s a blessing Jungkook isn’t filming this, because your eyebrows raise so far they nearly disappear from your face altogether. There isn’t even a hint of hesitation in Namjoon’s voice, and although you would’ve described it the same way, hearing him say it with such conviction has you a little stunned. “Wow. You gonna see her again?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon says, sharing a private smile with you. “I think I am.”

who the FUCK is namjoon dating Posted by u/pod-shipper 7 minutes ago This has honestly ruined my entire day. I thought all the stories he told about dating were a bit… Like, what kind of guy has a podcast about relationships but can’t seem to be in one? But you could just HEAR it in his voice how much he likes this woman he went on a date with over the weekend and I’m sick to my stomach. (+2195) ↳ bro you and me both 😭 i genuinely thought him and piper had something going on fr (+1302) ↳ Seriously might stop listening because of this! Any woman with self-respect would never let their partner host a podcast with someone they’re obviously in love with. If he gets serious with this woman, Piper will be gone within 6 months, mark my words. (+927) ↳ I wouldn’t worry about it too much! My cousin works at a really nice restaurant in the same city Namjoon lives in, and she said she saw this “date” on Saturday and that it wasn’t anything serious. (+788) ↳ Piper got a cat and Namjoon finally got a second date. Face it, it’s over. (+325) ↳ cannot believe him and piper aren’t dating.. do you think i should delete all my tiktok edits? (+4) ↳ this is unhinged lmfao i thought y’all hated piper? you’re in here bitching abt her being a “misandrist” every week and now ur gonna stop listening bc namjoon isn’t dating her? pick a lane and stay in it (-64)

Thank you so much for reading! I'd love to hear your thoughts, and reblogs/shares are always welcome! I appreciate you very much~ ♡

#namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #namjoon fanfic #namjoon imagine #namjoon scenarios #namjoon x you #namjoon x y/n #bts imagines #bts scenarios #jewel writes

[hoseoksluna]

BOOKWORMS | knj

pairing: boyfriend!namjoon x reader

genre: smut; fluff

word count: 4.4k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

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

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

“Missed me?” Namjoon husks into your ear. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You raise one of your eyebrows in question. 

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

You gasp and burst into giggles. “What?”

“He got some!” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Okay, I won’t.” 

“That’s my girl. 

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

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

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

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

“Fuck, baby.” 

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

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

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

“Sit on the counter.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“One more,” he mutters. “Please.”

You nod.

“Use your words or we’re stopping.”

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

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

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

You do, weakly.

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

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

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

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

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

“Come on.”

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

“I got you.”

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

“Don’t fucking do that to me, baby.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah, fuck me, Joon.” 

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

“You forgot something.”

He thrusts again, harder this time.

“What?” you breathe out, meekly. 

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

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

“Fuck, sorry. Please, Joon, please.”

He grinds, hips rotating in circles. 

“Uh-huh, that’s right. Now use it.” 

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

“Please, hmph, fuck me.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Look.” 

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

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

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

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

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

And you do the same for him.

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

© 2024 hoseoksluna, all rights reserved.

BACK to masterlist

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

[euphoricfilter]

. • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆. night short #3

tonight i present to you, namjoon and his thick cock.

a man as beefy as namjoon has a thick cock, and maybe he gets a little feral over the way it splits open your pussy. he loves missionary, solely because he can watch how stretched out you are with every back pull, unashamed with the filth that spills from his lips as he rocks back into you. perhaps even a little enamored by how creamy your pussy becomes, thick ring of white clinging to the base of his cock.

and maybe sometimes he gets a little carried away, pulling your legs off the bed, stomach con-caved slightly. perfect for him to see his cock through your tummy when he’s fully flushed inside of you.

it would turn into somewhat of a kink for him, watching as he pulls back, only to push in and that little bulge to show once more. his head would tip back, a low groan rumbling through his chest.

maybe the second time he notices it, he gets a little more bold. gentle as he splays his fingers over your stomach, feeling each time he pushes into you. thick cock sliding beneath his hand. his hips picking up their pace, and his desperation growing tenfold; that he pushes down on your tummy.

the both of you moaning in unison, because holy shit you can feel him inside your stomach. so deep, and so thick your legs start to quiver.

“one more time” he’d beg, even after the both of you come down from your high. anything to feel that pure euphoria once more. anything to see as he punches into your stomach, one more time to fully ingrain the imagine of him so visually deep inside your cunt.

and to be a slightly more filthy. maybe he curls his hand around the bulge of his cock in your tummy, squeezing ever so slightly, extremely gentle— as if he was jerking himself off, as your walls milk him.

#bts smut #namjoon fanfic #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon imagine #namjoon fluff #bts namjoon #namjoon x you #bts imagines #bts fanfic #bts x reader

[95rkives]

baby fever⼂k.nj

summary: what was supposedly a peaceful morning stroll in the park, an unexpected encounter triggers namjoon’s intense desire for a baby, turning him into an adorable, baby fever-filled mess.

parings: bf!namjoon x fem!reader

genre/warnings: established relationship, fluff, namjoon is in love

wc: 1.7k

a/n: hi hi! wanted to quickly say i’m on vacation rn, hence the slow updates but! big things are coming soon ;) im so excited to share! for now, i hope u enjoy this short oneshot, im actually so very proud of it, i was giggling, kicking my feet while writing this </3

"according to statistics, the average individual devotes approximately half a year of their life patiently waiting for traffic lights to transition from red to green."

his statement elicited an amused laugh from you, bordering on a light-hearted scoff. you cast a sidelong glance at him, raising your eyebrows in playful skepticism. "well, that sounds like quite a creative excuse to evade obtaining a driver's license."

a soft chuckle escapes him, his hand playfully swaying yours in gentle synchronization as you stroll along the serene lakeside in the park. "it's true," he asserts, meeting your gaze with a mischievous grin, creating a brief moment of shared complicity before you both resume gazing ahead.

"and besides," he interjects, tilting his head slightly in a contemplative manner "opting for bicycling and walking is infinitely more enjoyable, not to mention immensely beneficial for the environment."

you shake your head in mild disbelief, unimpressed by his narrow-mindedness and his pretentious vocabulary. "well then, i suppose i shall retire from my role as your personal chauffeur—in fact," pausing for dramatic effect, you continue, "i'll go as far as relinquishing my license, selling my car, and indulging myself in that coveted prada bag i've long desired."

that prompted him to throw his head back in a burst of laughter, his eyes brimming with amusement as he glanced at you. "so dramatic," he remarked, gently lifting your interlocked hands and planting a tender kiss on the back of yours, releasing a soft breath of laughter through his nose.

a subtle tsk of annoyance escaped your lips, accompanied by a discreet roll of your eyes as your head turns away from him. you find it impossible to suppress the sly grin that stealthily spreads across your lips.

"you know," he begins, his words trembling with a hint of laughter that gradually subsides. his gaze shifts downwards, fixed upon his own feet, attempting to suppress a smile. "i find it incredibly attractive," he admits, a sly grin playing on his lips as he turns to face you once more, his posture slightly bowed, leaving you weak in the knees. "when you're behind the wheel," he clarifies, a gentle laugh escaping his lips as you avert your gaze, feeling a gentle blush warm your cheeks, however subtle it may be.

"oh, so am i exempt from the rules? can i single-handedly destroy the planet?" you playfully quip, a sly grin playing upon your lips as your gaze roams everywhere but his face.

he allows his eyes to linger on the side of your face for a heartbeat longer, before he subtly clears his throat and returns his focus forward. giving your hand a gentle squeeze, he finally responds, his voice carrying a touch of mischief, "yes," he pauses, a slow, confident grin spreading across his lips, "without a doubt."

laughter spills effortlessly from your lips, and you can't resist playfully nudging his shoulder with your own. the gentle collision causes him to stumble ever so slightly, his balance momentarily disrupted, but a massive grin radiates across his face, unable to be contained.

as your attention drifts away from the conversation, a delightful sight captures your eyes. "oh," you exclaim, unable to hide your enthusiasm. "look, ducks!" a grin lights up your face as you observe mothers and children congregating near the tranquil lake, joyfully feeding these charming creatures.

namjoon follows the direction of your gaze, and a gentle smile graces his lips. he steals a quick glance at you before returning his focus to the scene ahead. "would you like to go feed them?"

without a moment's hesitation, your response is immediate. like an exuberant child, you eagerly pull him along, almost breaking into a jog as you make your way towards the spot where the ducks are already being fed.

your hand slips away from his, and you gracefully lower yourself into a crouch near the edge of the serene lake. in perfect formation, ducks accompanied by their adorable ducklings gracefully glide through the water, forming enchanting lines. the sheer cuteness of the scene elicits a delightful flutter in your heart, filling you with pure joy.

namjoon positions himself behind you, his hands casually nestled in the pockets of his jeans. with tender admiration, he gazes down at you, a radiant smile gracing his features, exuding warmth and affection.

"i have no bread," you pout, or at least that's the conclusion he draws from the palpable disappointment lacing your voice.

“i can go get some; there's a bakery not too far—" his words are abruptly halted by an unfamiliar, yet endearingly tiny voice, capturing his attention. it doesn't take long for him to realize that the voice belongs to a little girl who has appeared nearby.

"would you like to share with me?" the little girl bravely approaches you, and your face instantly lights up with a radiant smile in response to her sweet offer. as she draws near, you realize she stands at the same height as you, since you were crouched down, appearing no older than four or five years old.

“oh," you exhale a soft, melodic laugh, your eyebrows lifting in surprise. "you are so incredibly kind," you remark with genuine warmth, tilting your head ever so slightly. her beaming smile grows even wider upon receiving your compliment, her innocent delight radiating in response.

as the distant calls of what appears to be her mother draw nearer, the three of you instinctively turn to face her.

“ava!" the mother pants as she finally catches up, coming to a stop. "didn't i tell you to stop bothering people?" her face adopts a pouting expression, a thinly veiled attempt to conceal her underlying irritation, her eyebrows slightly furrowing.

“but, mom," ava whines in such an adorably plaintive tone that it elicits a shared snicker between you and namjoon. "she doesn't have bread!" she huffs, her frustration evident, prompting the mother to heave a sigh of surrender.

“i'm truly sorry," the woman interjects, her eyes shifting between you and namjoon, offering apologetic smiles. "she's been going around handing bread to everyone she meets—"

“please, there's no need to worry," you assure her, your voice carrying a gentle tremor of laughter. your attention then shifts back to the little girl before you. "how about we feed them together?" you suggest, employing the softest, most endearing tone you can muster, aiming to ignite a sense of excitement in the young one. it proves successful as ava nods eagerly, brimming with anticipation.

with a carefree grace, she positions herself in front of you, leaning back casually against you. in response, you wrap an arm around her, your palm tenderly resting on her stomach. the scene proves to be utterly captivating, prompting namjoon to bite down on his lip in an effort to contain his smile—or perhaps even a squeal. either way, he finds the sight undeniably adorable, melting his heart in the process.

the mother approaches and stands next to namjoon, casting a smile in his direction before her gaze shifts to her daughter and you. her eyes brim with curiosity as she poses the question, "girlfriend? wife?"

although caught slightly off guard, namjoon responds with a warm smile, a sheepish laugh slipping past his lips. he looks down at you once again, his eyes sparkling with affection and adoration. almost dreamily, he confirms, "girlfriend." the woman chuckles softly, captivated by the enchanting connection between the two of you.

completely unaware, you wholeheartedly engage in feeding the ducks with ava. together, you toss pieces of bread onto the lake, captivating the ducks' attention. to your sheer joy, one of the ducks emerges from the water and gently takes bread from ava's hand, prompting her to squeal in pure delight. your laughter harmonizes with hers, forming a symphony of happiness and carefree bliss.

namjoon's heart leaps, skips, and dances within his chest, each beat amplified in intensity. the way you engage with ava, emanating an innate gentleness and kindness, strikes a chord deep within him. it's a tender scene that tugs at his heartstrings, leaving him captivated by the beauty of your nurturing nature.

lost in his captivated state, namjoon remains oblivious to the fact that you have risen to your feet, gracefully making your way towards him. only when ava runs back to her mother's embrace does he snap out of his reverie, his gaze shifting to you as you approach him with a gentle grace.

you come to stand beside him, and almost instinctively, his arm drapes over your shoulders, drawing you close as you face the mother and daughter together.

“now, say thank you,” the mother playfully prompts ava, gently swaying her in her arms. her smile extends towards you, and in a shy, sweet whisper, ava utters her gratitude, causing your heart to soar with joy.

“thank you," you reply, placing emphasis on the word 'you.' "without you, i wouldn't have been able to feed the ducks." your smile radiates with warmth and tenderness as you gaze at the little girl, a soft giggle escaping your lips, filled with genuine appreciation and delight.

engaging in heartfelt conversation, you share a few more words with the mother, building a connection even in the brief encounter. the exchange concludes with beaming smiles that radiate warmth and gratitude, as you bid each other farewell, the memory of the delightful interaction lingering in your hearts.

as you observe them walking away, namjoon's gaze shifts towards you, a sly smile gracing his lips. his hand tenderly caresses your shoulder, moving up and down in a soothing gesture as he speaks. "you would make an exceptional mother,"

the tone of his voice catches your attention, drawing your gaze to meet his. as you lock eyes, you notice the way he slightly purses his lips, a subtle but unmistakable sign that he's trying to contain a smile. with a knowing glance, you quickly catch on.

“absolutely not.”

“wait—” he bursts into laughter as you shake his arm off your shoulders and begin walking away. however, he swiftly follows suit, reaching from behind to wrap his arms around you, creating an endearing obstacle that makes it more challenging for both of you to walk

“you're absolutely insane," you playfully groan as he showers your neck, shoulder, and cheek with gentle kisses. he nuzzles into your hair, emitting a soft giggle that resonates with warmth and affection.

"one child won't hurt," he whispers softly, his words carrying a hint of mischief. you start to wiggle in an attempt to break free from his embrace, but he only tightens his grip around you, refusing to let you escape his affectionate hold.

#namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #bts #bts x reader #bts imagine #namjoon imagine #bts fluff #namjoon reactions #namjoon drabble

[kyph3r]

NEW WORKOUT PLAN

trainer!namjoon x fem!reader

in which... your new trainer is hot, you're horny, and it's past closing hours

warnings: pwp, smut, use of the word "slutty", this is rlly short so be ready for a fast pace, im imagining a chubbier reader but the fic is for everyone !!!

an: just a little drabble, i was listening to the college dropout and the new work out plan played, it inspired me ;)

when your trainer walks in, you swear the world stops for a second

you just joined a new gym, it's marketing said it was rigorous and had the top trainers in the country working to get people in shape. so when a 6'2, bulky, handsome man walks into your assigned training room and says he'll be helping you work out for the next few months with the sweetest smile on his face, should you really be as surprised and horny as you are?

your first day is extremely embarrassing, you swear the universe cursed you to be the most unflexable person on earth. but your trainer, namjoon, says it's all right with a small smile and proceeds to lay you out on the ground and help you stretch. his big arms grab your thighs and pull them back until your knees hit your chest and fuck, you pray to the highest power that you aren't leaking through your tight little leggings.

"you are so tense, is everything alright?" he asks with a concerned look on his face. the hands on your thighs go higher and start gently massaging your calves as an attempt to get you to relax. it does quite the opposite. you can't tell if he's teasing you on purpose or if he is just that oblivious.

"n-no i'm fine namjoon.. i just don't stretch a lot, that's all!" you say with a tremble in your voice, trying to hold back a pleasured moan from the way he's touching you. he lets out a noise of understanding and starts bending you more.

"if that's the case then we should probably spend a lot of time stretching in our first few sessions," he looks down at you and smiles, "i don't want you to accidentally hurt yourself because you haven't stretched." the look on your face after he said that must have been very amusing, because he had to lower his head to let out a chuckle.

namjoon is an excellent trainer. he insists on doing the workouts alongside you "to make it fair" but it honestly just makes things a lot worse. by the end of the workout his voice is breathier, there's a shine of sweat all over him, and the image of a big man dripping sweat and saying your name alongside praises of "keep it up, you're doing so well" leaves you in more of a debauched state than you should be in after a work out.

by the end of the first month you're sore and very sexually frustrated. you've been trying to seduce him in any way possible, wearing the tightest work out gear you own, blinking up at him with eyes that scream "please fuck me!" any time that you can, you really give props to namjoon for being so respectful and proper during your sessions. but every once in a while his polite persona will break and he'll look at you like he wants to devour you right in there in the training room. but it will quickly go back to normal, leaving you a horny mess.

the closest you think you came to him fucking you was the yoga day, you purposely wore shorts that made your ass look amazing. he told you to do the downward dog position and you swear you heard a quiet "fuck" coming from him behind you, quickly covered with a cough. by the end of the session a blush was set high on his cheekbones and the hands around your waist positioned to check your form were gripping firmer.

by the middle of your second month, he finally breaks.

"do you know how much of a tease you've been, huh?" he questions while giving a slap to your ass. he has you pressed against the wall, backside jutting out to flush against his moving hips. his pace is ruthless, one hand holding your own above your head and the other hooking two fingers into your open mouth. "i had to endure your slutty little outfits for all these weeks, shit, take it."

you moan uncontrollably, his thrusts becoming faster as the hand in your mouth snakes down to your core, playing with your clit.

"namjoon! too much, gonna cum," you whine out, grinding your hips back onto his. he gives another slap to your ass and speeds the fingers on your clit and you're cumming, arousal squirting onto his hand and the ground. his groans become louder as he feels the mess you made and angles his head down to suck along the column of your neck.

"fuck, baby, you're so good. so good for me. just let me use you a little longer." his pace slows to shallow thrusts that feel like they hit your guts until he comes with a low moan, filling your insides.

you are both panting, sweat and cum dripping off of each other. he lays his head on your shoulder and slowly pulls out of your cunt.

"so–" he clears his throat, "would you like to go out somewhere?"

#namjoon imagine #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #namjoon smut #namjoon fluff #namjoon fanfic #kim namjoon #rm x reader #rm imagine #rm fanfic #rm smut #rm fluff #rm headcanons

[nmjoo-n]

DREAM GIRL 💭 kim namjoon.

pair. writer! namjoon x f. reader | genre. age gap romance, obsession, love at first sight, angst | warnings. corruption kink, profanity, slight stalker behavior, daddy kink, pet names, unprotected sex, exhibitionism, power imbalance, just filthy sex tbh | word count. 3.7k

synopsis. “tell me pretty baby, have you ever been fucked up against a wall?” or namjoon is completely enamored by your angelic innocence, and absolutely has to claim you.

Kim Namjoon spent most of his time reading.

His most recent binge had been Murakami books, the woman through a man’s point of view, and while fascinating—it lacked depth. Intensity. This author clearly understood the peculiar sex very little, was entirely focused on his love for them, and their reaction to it. If it was Namjoon, he’d let them lead the narrative, while he’d step back and observe.

Women were to be observed, understood, before approached. This is how he found you, a perfect little angel in your white dress, sipping coffee outside his neighborhood’s café, softly talking to a grey, stray cat, your hand extended out for it, your fingers delicate in their calling. You stopped him dead on his tracks. He could do nothing but stare.

You looked so peaceful in your oblivion, your hair up and away from your face, a book propped on your knees. Namjoon’s feet moved without his knowledge, his mind replaying one thing—I have to see your face, your beautiful features, I need to meet you, sweetheart. Shamefully, his cock stirred in his pants, alerting him of his improper intentions. No matter. He couldn’t control his response to you, didn’t want to.

Walking in the coffeehouse, he leaned against the tall counter, head lazily falling into his open palm, gaze following your every move. Ordering his usual drink, he gathered the courage to approach you. You seemed to like this cat, so, perhaps an animal lover, and you most certainly were a reader—it was a start, an opening for him.

Clouds were beginning to gather, September coming to an end, but you paid no mind to them, your eyes scanning the pages of whatever you were reading. His writer brain was romanticizing your entire existence, was picturing you under him, in his arms, consumed, defiled, claimed. A pretty little thing dancing in the rain, running towards him, laughing, the outline of your breasts visible for anyone to see.

Henry Miller would’ve been one jealous fucker if he’d ever known you were out there, years ahead of him, a muse for the taking. Namjoon thanked every fucking God known for putting you in his way. Bukowski would be having a field day fantasizing about your honey dripping thighs and sweet pussy. You are every writer’s dream, sweetheart, and do you even realize?

“Beautiful choice,” he comments on the book in your lap, coming to stand over you, desperately trying not to lose it over your angel features.

You jump, startled, and look up to witness the most breathtaking man you’ve ever come across in your life, smiling down at you. You smile back without meaning to, your back straightening, your shoe clad feet touching the pavement.

“Anaïs is for the bold,” you retort, voice light, motioning for him to sit in the empty chair opposite you.

He’s massive, with strong arms and long legs. He thanks you softly and takes the seat, paper cup in hand, eyes piercing through you in an identifiable way. You shiver—blame it on the chilly day.

“Are you bold, then?” He asks cryptically, leaning into you. You feel exposed, but intrigued. So incredibly intrigued.

You falter in giving him your answer. You don’t even know his name. You don’t think it matters. “I—I try, I think.”

He smirks, and pulls away, taking with him his amber scent and magnetism. You miss it as soon as it’s gone. You reason with yourself, try to find an explanation for your thought’s reaction—your body’s.

“I’m Namjoon, sweetheart. What should I call you?” His voice was velvet; deep, and manly. It radiated through you.

Closing the book, you instead chose to hold your coffee cup between your hands, a distraction from the intense man pinning you down with those dark eyes. His black leather jacket accentuated his big shoulders, the buzz cut on the top of his head making him appear meaner than he actually was. Namjoon was older, you could tell. It scared you, but in the way rollercoasters make you nervous, or in the way thunder cracked in the night, somewhere far away, miles and miles from you. Bark with no bite.

“(Y/N),” you reply, licking your dry lips.

He follows the movement. “Pretty—(Y/N),” he tries it in his mouth, the sound sinful, inviting. “It’s beautiful.”

He sees your cheeks flush crimson, your head dropping to hide. Namjoon is an intuitive person, a risk-taking man. His fingers reach out, his index lifting your face to look at him. Your breathing has changed, you’re not accustomed to flirting, much less compliments from strangers, it’s all there for him to see. His innocent baby. He’d take his time with you. You deserved nothing less—he’d give you the fucking world, if you so wished.

“Are you a lover of books?” You ask, wanting to break the incantation, disperse the intensity of the moment.

His hand drops, the touch that lit a fire inside of you burning still, bright and strong heading lower, in between your legs, gone in an instant. You mourned for it, yearned for his hand to come back, touch you somewhere else. Your thoughts were shameless, your deepest desires but a breath away.

“You could say that,” he sips from his cup, calm and collected, legs crossed, studying you. “I’m a writer.”

“No way!” You exclaim, your cute reaction eliciting a laugh out of him. How adorable, he thinks, watching your nose scrunch up, your small, fuckable mouth curving in a smile that knocks the wind out of him.

“What about you, angel?”

“I’m a sophomore in college. Literature.”

Of course you are, his smart girl. He needs you to know, before he proceeds. He needs you to vocally say it’s okay for him to court you, to make you his. He won’t lay another finger on you until you do so.

“Sweetheart, you understand the age gap between us, don’t you?”

The part you dreaded. The truth. “Yes,” you say loud enough for just him to hear.

Namjoon leaves his now cold drink on the table, leans forward, forearms resting on top of his knees, fingers lacing together, a serious expression on his flawless face. Is this how it happens, you think? One day, out of the blue, no warning, no signs? Love, plainly in sight, asking you to accept it? You can’t say no. You don’t want to say no, knowing the difficulties, the struggles that entails.

“One word of yours and I’m out of your life. You’re holding the reigns,” he explains, but his eyes are terrified of you rejecting this, of scorning him, of sending him away after he’s found you, an oasis after a long dry desert.

He wants to love you madly. He wants to fuck you senseless, and ruin you for any other man. Most of all, he wants you to want the same things. Eight years isn’t a lot, but it’s a lifetime apart.

“You—you like me?” Your lips fall open, your chest deflates.

Oh, sweetheart, you might not be ready for what I feel for you, what I’m planning to do to you—it’s beyond words. Beyond reason.

“As soon as I saw you. I’m not a talkative person, (Y/N), I don’t walk up to just any girl.” There go those eyes again, haunting your soul, turning you inside out.

You blink, surprised at his honesty, at the bluntness of his words. In your twenty years on this earth, you’ve never been more sure of anything. This man will show you things you’ve never seen before, take you to places you’ve only dreamed of. He’s experienced, he’s an all rounded person.

He’s handsome. His mouth begs to be kissed.

“I like you too,” you admit, but refuse to meet his gaze.

He can’t have that. His fingers shoot out again, gently bringing your face level to his. Rain droplets release themselves from the puffy clouds. You don’t react to any of it, hypnotized under him, under his irresistible touch.

“It will be more than that. I need to know if you’ll be able to handle it, pretty girl. I’m not going to be your high school boyfriend.”

“I understand.” Your thighs clench together, your breathing erratic.

Namjoon notices, of course he does. “Are you a virgin, baby?”

Your eyelashes flutter, the red painting your cheeks turning a shade darker, your skin hot under his palm. He’s closer than ever, this broad man asking if he can take care of you. You’re endeared. Your heart is weak.

“I’m—no. A boy in my senior year,” you reply, embarrassed. Excited.

His eyes flash, something dark stirring in them, before it’s gone instantly. Jealousy. But, why? You couldn’t have possibly known, and even then…the danger. The forbidden. No, that couldn’t have been it.

Why hadn’t you waited? Who dared touched you before him? His muse, his perfect girl. Thoughts that had no place being voiced out loud, in fear of sounding insane. He would never admit to them.

“Then tell me pretty baby, have you ever been fucked up against a wall?”

His lips were but a breath away. You wanted to give in so badly, anything he wanted, you’d become pudding in his hands, melt away if that meant you’d be with him, if that meant he’d take you with him everywhere. His question. You stayed silent.

“Use your words, (Y/N). I’m not doing anything without your consent.”

You were so wet. So incredibly wet. If only he knew the influence his words had on you… He only had to reach a hand under your dress, touch your core. Then he’d realize just how inexperienced you truly were.

“Never,” you whisper.

You exchanged breaths, your eyes falling shut in the thought of his lips on yours, and it almost happened, the ghost of them faintly pressing, a gentle caress, before he pulls away completely, his hand finding yours, pulling you up with him.

“Sweetheart, you have no idea what you just did to me,” an arm wrapping around your waist, bringing you closer, your head at level with his chest, a man, standing before you, asking to have you.

“I should wait, I should take you out and make sure you’re fed, take care of you, every fucking inch of you, before I even begin to think—do you want this?” His voice is vibrating, filled with his desire, breath now tickling your ear, a whisper between lovers.

You just met Namjoon. You don’t know anything about him, nothing but your attraction to him. Your body’s reaction. So what if this was a bad decision? He didn’t look like a bad guy. Anais Nin wasn’t second guessing herself when she fell into an affair with Henry Miller. It just happened, their souls spoke to each other clearly. Could this be what was happening?

You wanted him inside you. You wanted what he offered, every bit of it. Yes, yes, yes.

“Take me with you, Namjoon.”

Together you run, belongings forgotten; the rain had turned from a faint whispering to a thundering roar in a split second, and it didn’t take long for the both of you to get completely drenched in it, tasting sky water, your small hand in his bigger one, holding tight, fingers intertwining.

He only had to look back once. Your dress was see-through, he could see your white undergarments, the silk of your panties, the cups of your bra. Namjoon growled, a guttural noise boiling from his throat. Immediately, he pulled you in between two buildings, a narrow alleyway leading to apartments’ fire escapes unraveling in the length of it.

Leading you under a small shed, he made sure you were against the wall, covered, while he let his arms rest above your head, your bodies touching. He looked down at you, his breathing labored, and he saw the skin glistening, the fabric sticking on every curve, those pink lips open, fast breaths exhaled.

He kisses you, then. Takes your lips as his own, traps you in his embrace. You taste like cold rain, but when his tongue slips past, there’s hints of coffee with milk. Namjoon smiles against your mouth, hands getting lost in your hair, steadying themselves at the nape of your neck, cupping your jaw, your chin—you fit right into him, so small, so precious. He’s going to love corrupting you, tainting you.

“Has anyone ever touched you…here?” His fingers bunch your dress up, dip under it, over your slick. You gasp—he marvels at your expression.

“No? Baby talk to me, use your pretty mouth,” he kisses you again, his digits moving over your panties. You’re moving with them, rubbing against them, it’s all wet wet wet—

“No one.” Your nails dig into his jacket. He sighs dreamily; you’re a vision for him. An angel send.

“Did that boy not know how to please you, baby? He just shoved his fucking dick in you carelessly?” His voice grew rough, anger rippling through him. “You deserve so much better than that, sweetheart. You deserve to be loved, to be caressed…”

With one hand slipping inside your panties, fingers curling, entering you slowly, the other one ran up and down your thigh, gripping at your waist, snaking its way to the small of your back, and back down. You couldn’t focus on anything but the pumping movements inside you, the long digits bringing you pleasure, making your cunt ache, clench around them.

Namjoon was hiding you from view with his entire body. This was only for him to see, but it also served as a test. To see how far you were willing to go with him.

“You’re doing so well, my sweet girl. So tight, so wet for me… I want to taste you, baby, I want to inhale you. Will you let me?”

Your moans were music to his ears. They started as low pants, your hand blocking most of them, your cheeks that familiar pink shade. He saw it happen, as his fingers curled a specific way, the way your legs fell open wider, the way your voice turned a pitch higher than before, unable to hold back, helpless against your pleasure. Namjoon was rock hard, stifled in his pants.

But that would come shortly. First, he needed to show you—what he can do. What you could have every single day, everywhere, as soon as you spoke the words. He’d cater to your every need, be whatever you wanted him to be. As long as he could have you, take you, own you.

A smack on your ass. Your eyes shot open, staring wide at him. He lifted you up at once, arm under those plump cheeks, his fingers still fucking your cunt vigorously. You yelped, held onto his shoulders in fear of falling, but quickly grew overwhelmed, your volume rising. Fuck him, you’re so fucking hot.

“Tell Daddy, my sweet girl—will you let me have a taste of your cunt?”

“Oh, please,” you whined, your head falling in the crook of his neck, your thoughts a jumbled mess. “Please.”

He needn’t be told twice. With your feet planted firmly on the ground again, he removed his hand from your panties, kneeling down in front of you, rain sipping through him, as he lifted your dress up. Namjoon looked up at you through his eyelashes, before he ripped that silk right off you, diving right into your slick.

Divine. He’s had a lot of sex, has tasted a lot of women, but none could ever compare to you, to your sweet fucking cunt. It was pure Heaven. And the way your back curved against the wall, pushing his head into you, his tongue swiping your wetness, sucking your clit—it was enough to make you cum. He slurped all of it up, fingers finding their way again into your warm hole. He’d blow, he fucking swears. Your beautiful voice moaning out his name, wet all over, a Goddess for him, as he laps your intoxicating juices. He drinks you up, he makes it his life’s mission.

“Fucking tell me, sweetheart, has anyone ever had a lick of this pussy? You know it belongs to me now, don’t you?”

You nod your head, losing your mind. He hasn’t even fucked you yet, and you’re convulsing this hard. His baby.

“Words.”

“Yes, daddy, yes! Please,” you sob, “please…fuck me, please…”

He locks you in place, his hands on your ass, determined to make you cum with his tongue, before his cock is anywhere near you. His impatient girl, so lost in feeling, such a slut for him, for what he’s giving you. He’s never had such a perfect woman.

When he started working both his fingers and mouth again, this time aggressively, his only motive was to get that pussy to drench him, to have your cum dripping from his chin. And it did just that when his thumb flicked over your clit relentlessly, tongue moving just underneath, three fingers deep. Your nails dug into his scalp, your entire body convulsing. He rubbed his stubby jaw on your lips, inhaling deeply. Your scent, uniquely yours—he now knew how you smelled. Truly. He would never be able to let you go.

“Fuck, sweetheart, you’re killing me. Ready for me? Ready to give me another one?” He muttered, hands on your breasts, dropping kisses on your neck, before unbuckling his belt, unzipping his pants. “I love the way you cum. I can’t wait to have you on my bed, have my way with you. You’ll let me, yes baby? You’ll let Daddy defile you, pretty thing?”

You looked down at his girth, swallowing thickly. Namjoon chuckled darkly, allowing you to see what would enter you. He pumped himself a couple times, his other hand rubbing your pussy, making sure you were wet enough for him. You just looked so fucking innocent, all fucked out. He attacked your mouth once again, biting down on your lip.

“Do you taste yourself? My delicious fucking girl.”

He enters you slowly, brows furrowed, savoring the tightness. Once he bottoms out, he stills in you, letting you get used to him, his will made of iron. Your fingers wrap around his biceps as you take a deep breath through the sting of his cock.

“Are you okay, baby?” He asks, worried.

“Yes,” you reply at once. “Go on.”

He hikes your thigh up and around his torso, as he lifts you up. You wrap around him and that’s fucking it—he loses it. His cock brutally starts pistoling into you, holding you tight against him. You meet his thrusts halfway, before it becomes too much for you to handle, instead becoming his personal little fuck doll to pound senseless. And he does. His moves are exact; sharp, and precise. He’s hitting everything inside you, the position as well as the thickness of his cock filling you up to the brim, until all you can think is him him him, inside your cunt, fucking you dumb.

“Call me by my name, sweetheart,” he pants in your ear, bouncing you on his dick.

“Namjoon,” you weakly moan, your breaths coming short, on the brink of passing out.

“My name,” he repeats harshly, ramming into you once, twice—

You throw your head back in ecstasy. “Daddy! Fuck, don’t stop! Keep fucking me please, please, I’m so fucking close daddy, please!”

“That’s my fucking angel.”

He does just that, until he can feel you spasming, until you’re screaming, begging, crying, coming on his cock, his desperate whore, getting fucked so good, isn’t she, bounce on my fucking dick, baby, ride it out, that’s right, milk me, fucking own me, my sweet fucking baby, you’re so beautiful, so fucking hot, give me a kiss—

“Where do you want me, baby? Tell Daddy, fuck you’re clenching me so goddamn hard right now, sweetheart, please.”

“Inside, please inside, I want your cum inside of me, please,” you beg, and he almost fucking chokes on his spit.

His thrusts are fast, hard and sloppy now, bruising your pussy, chasing after his own release, his mouth filthy—you want me inside this fucking cunt, don’t you my perfect fucking baby, my little slut, you’re gonna let daddy paint your walls white, won’t you, squeeze me dry, baby, fuck, come on, clench those tight fucking walls, goddamn you, I want to die in this pussy, please baby—

His arms tighten around you as he comes, and you let him; you let him calm down, for his breathing to even out, as he slips out of you, and carefully unwraps your legs from his hips, planting kisses on your shoulders, water dripping from his hair. The thunderstorm still hasn’t passed, raging on beyond the shelter of this shed.

“I’ve never experienced anything like this,” you confess as he fixes your hair, your dress, adjusts the straps, gives you his jacket to make up for the lack of underwear, and even though it’s several sizes too big on you—he cares.

It wasn’t just a lie to have a quickie with you. He took his time to explore your body, to study what makes you tick, what sends you over the edge. You didn’t even know his last name, but he knew his way around your pussy the best, better than you it felt like.

His eyes are fond, staring down in adoration. “I want to make you feel good for as long as you let me, sweetheart. I’m not here to hurt you.”

You hug him, then, your arms not quite reaching all around him. But it’s enough for him. More than enough. He thinks he’ll fall in love with you so easily. You’re the most adorable thing he’s ever witnessed. He wants to hide you away, put you in his pocket and carry you everywhere.

“What’s your last name?” You ask innocently, head still buried in his chest.

He barks a laugh out, squeezing you in him, the vibration of it radiating through you. “Should’ve mentioned it, huh? It’s Kim, angel. Kim Namjoon.”

“Kim Namjoon,” you try it. It sounds…wholesome. “Hi, Kim Namjoon.”

“Hello, baby.”

The two of you stood there for a long time, waiting the storm out in each other’s arms. Namjoon couldn’t stop smiling, didn’t want to, never wanted to, ever again.

You couldn’t stop staring at him—he felt like the sun peeking after the gray of the clouds. Warm, important.

#bts #namjoon #bts smut #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #kpop smut #bts x reader #namjoon imagine #bts imagines #bts scenarios #namjoon scenarios #kpop imagines #kpop scenarios #.mine

[dreamescapeswriting]

Melodic Rivalry ~ KNJ

WORD COUNT: 3.5K

GENRE: Enemies to lovers, implied sexual interaction, surprise pregnancy, hiding pregnancy trope, angst, soft ending [Didn't include smut as it's an anon and I don't know your age, so it's implied that they have sex xx]

PAIRING: Namjoon x Fem!Reader

⤜Copyright: © DreamEscapesWriting - March 2024

⤜MASTERLIST

You stared down at the magazine with a disgusted look on your face, a photo of you and Namjoon on the cover with giant smiles on your faces as you sat together but the shot wasn't real. The two of you could never sit still long enough for a photo to be taken so the magazine had to photoshop the two of you together to fit the story that they had written and published.

All about how you and Namjoon were the perfect team, both of you had undeniable talent and worked well together in the studio. Namjoon was a musician with the knack of composing soul-stringing melodies, his talent knew no bounds and his music had the oer to move even the most stoic of souls. You were a producer with an unparalleled ear for sound, with the ability to transform raw talent into polished masterpieces and despite working well together in the music industry that was where everything stopped.

The two of you were like oil and water - constantly at odds with each other. Your egos clashed, your opinions collided, and your tempers flared at the slightest provocation. Working together was fraught with tension, each session devolving into a battle of wills and creative differences but each time the music came out brilliantly. 

As you got to the studio door you pushed it open and found it dimly lit, the only light coming from a soft glow of a mixing console. Namjoon sat at his piano, his fingers dancing across the keys getting lost in whatever he was composing so you stood at the soundboard, your arms folded across your chest as you stared at him. He was supposed to be working on something more upbeat, not another love ballad he was no doubt writing.

"Oh, how touching. Another one of your generic love ballads, I presume?" You asked sarcastically, ignoring the glare that Namjoon shot your way, his jaw tight as he stared down at the keys.

"If you have something to say, Yn, say it. Otherwise, keep your critiques to yourself." He said through gritted teeth.

"Typical. Can't handle a little criticism, can you?" You rolled your eyes at him.

"Criticism? All you do is tear down everything I create! You have no respect for my talent!"

"Respect? Please. You're the one who waltzes in here with your inflated ego and expects everyone to bow down to you."

The tension in the room was thick with unresolved animosity but you stared at one another, your eyes twitching.

"For someone who claims to hate my music so much, you spend a lot of time listening to it." You stared at him, shaking your head and scoffing a little. Of course, you listened to it, you had to because it was your job.

"That's because it's my job, you arrogant prick!" You cried out, your anger way past your boiling point now but Namjoon just stood up and took a step closer to you, his gaze burning with intensity.

"Is that the only reason?" He asked softly, your breath caught in your throat, your resolve weakening with each passing moment.

"Of course not." You whispered, your voice barely coming out. Your eyes locked, a silent understanding passing between you. And in that moment, the world fell away, leaving only the two of you in the quiet sanctuary of the studio.

Without a word, Namjoon closed the distance between you, his hand reaching out to gently cup your cheek. And then, in a rush of pent-up emotion, your lips met in a searing kiss—a collision of desire and frustration that sent shockwaves through you both.

For a moment, you were lost in each other, your bickering and resentment fading into the background as you surrendered to the undeniable chemistry that had always lingered between you.

But as quickly as it had begun, the moment passed, leaving you breathless and uncertain. You stepped away from him, your fingertips gently touching your lips as you stared at him.

"We shouldn't have done that." Your voice trembled a little as you looked up at Namjoon, his eyes were blazing.

"Why not? We both know there's something between us." He stares down at you.

"This... this is madness. We can't stand each other." You whimpered, shaking your head at him, Namjoon stepped closer to you though, his voice dropping as he stared down at you,

"Maybe that's because we're so alike. Two stubborn souls fighting against the inevitable." You determined to hate him, to push him away from you crumbled, your walls tumbling down in the face of Namjoon's unwavering honesty.

"We can't even stand to look at one another." You mumbled at him, it was true. The two of you could barely go ten minutes without a fight breaking out. The kiss had been a one-off, the passion and sparks you'd felt were nothing more than a static shock or something.

"Stop fighting it, are you scared?" He smirked at you and you hated him for it. You wanted to wipe that smug look off his face,

"No," You scoffed at him, rolling your eyes as you tried to ignore the way your heart was thumping for him, the way your palms were sweating. 

"Everyone knows we should be together, we should just embrace it," Namjoon smirked, your eyes meeting as you bit down on your lip. You had your reservations, the two of you bickered like an old married couple and you weren't sure it was healthy.

"Stop overthinking it," He whined before your lips met once more, the tentative kiss turning quickly into a fiery passion neither of you could deny. Your arms wrapped around the back of his neck as finally that pent-up tension and longer erupted into a raw and unbridled kiss. 

"I've wanted to do that for so long." Namjoon rushed out, his voice husky as you worked on unbuttoning the shirt he was wearing,

"Me too." You breathed out, kissing him deeply as he carefully took you over to the sofa, both of your clothes being strewn around the room as the kiss between you heated up once again.

Ever since that night in the studio with Namjoon, you did everything within your power to avoid him, you started working from home, switching to another group to work with not being able to face him but today had been inevitable, you had to go into work because of a meeting with Hannah, your manager and also one of your best friends.

The two of you had shared one night of unbelievable passion but when you woke up the next morning he was gone, his clothes were gone and there was a note on his desk asking you to lock up when you were dressed. Since there you'd not even received a text asking how you were, or even a call and you hated him more for it.

I've wanted this for so long.

Had been such bullshit, something he was saying just so that he could get laid, anger bubbled inside of you until you snapped the pencil you were holding.

"You okay? You look unwell," Hannah said as she gently rubbed your back, you were feeling a little under the weather but you put it down to the fact that you were going to have to face Namjoon sometime soon.

"Just a little queasy, that's all." You said with a forced smile, trying to brush it off but Hannah narrowed her eyes at you and exchanged a look with John, one of your other work friends.

"You've been feeling off for a while now, maybe take some holiday days." He suggested with a furrowed brow. It wasn't like you to get sick which was a little concerning for all of them.

"Yeah, maybe you're right." You muttered weakly, slowly standing up from the desk as your stomach churned with anxiety and a sinking feeling settling in the pit of your stomach.

"Yn?" Hannah called out but you sat back down in the chair, your bin between your legs as you threw up the contents of your stomach again.

"Here, drink this," John said as he slid you over a glass of water, Hannah was running to her desk and rummaging through it all.

"Hans? What are you looking for?" You mumbled, wiping your mouth with a tissue and staring at her as she walked back over to you.

She was the only person other than you and Namjoon that knew what happened in that studio 6 weeks ago and John frowned at the blue box.

"Take it," She told you plainly, John sent her a puzzled look with confusion written across his face.

"I...I can't...It'll make it all real," You'd had your suspicions that it was true but you figured if you ignored it long enough and denied it then it couldn't be real.

"Take it, we'll be here for you, no matter what," Hannah told you as John nodded, helping you stand up as they all walked you toward the women's toilets.

Those three minutes you were supposed to wait for the test felt like three hours, each second ticking by tortuously slowly as you, John and Hannah stared around the small office waiting for it to tell you the truth.

"Time," John said as his watch began to beep, your hand linked with Hannah's and you stared down at the pink stick, tears brimming inside of your eyes.

"I'm pregnant." Your voice trembled and instantly you were engulfed in a hug from your two favourite people.

"Work from home until we figure something out," Hannah told you, running her hands over your cheeks and wiping away the tears.

It had been almost five months since discovering you were pregnant and you'd done everything you could to hide it from Namjoon. If he had done everything to get you to leave him alone after your night together then you weren't going to tell him about the kid but the weight of hiding it was crushing you. 

You paced around your office, a mix of fear and uncertainty raging inside of you as you waited for John to hurry back with the next stack of assignments you needed to work through. 

"Everything is there, I'm sorry I promise next time I'll bring them to you. I'm just swamped." John said as he gave you a bag, you nodded quickly kissing his cheek and making a dart out of the door. You needed to get out of the building before anyone could spot you and the news got back to Namjoon.

Lost in your thoughts as you walked through the halls, you nearly collided with someone as you rounded a corner. You slowly looked up and whimpered finding Jungkook standing there,

"Hey! Sorry! Are you alright?" He frowned staring at you,

"You look like you've seen a ghost." He laughed nervously but you just shook your head at him,

"I'm fine, just a bit...distracted." You said with a forced smile but Jungkook's browns knotted together as he slowly looked down at you, his eyes lingering on your swollen belly/

"Is everything okay? You look like you're about to pop.." He laughed softly and your heart raced, panic bubbling up inside of you as you struggled to come up with an explanation. Jungkook had seen you those seven months back coming out of Namjoon's studio with a freshly "fucked" look on your face.

"Yeah, everything's good. Just...tired, that's all." You said hesitantly, smiling weakly as he stared down at you.

"It's his...right?" He waited for you to say something but you didn't even want to admit it to yourself, admitting it to Namjoon's bandmember was going to be damn near impossible,

"Jungkook." You pleaded, shaking your head at him as if asking him to stop all of this.

"Yn, is it his?" You stared at him, your stomach churning with anxiety as you tried to think of something to say but your mind was racing at a million words a second. 

"Please, Jungkook, you can't tell Namjoon. He can't know about the baby." Jungkook's eyes widened in surprise as he stared at you. Everyone knew how badly Namjoon wanted to be a father and hiding something like this from him would no doubt kill him.

"Why didn't you tell him? He has a right to know." He didn't mean for it to come out as harsh as it did, he knew you were pregnant and in a delicate place right now but Namjoon deserved to know he was going to have a kid.

"He lost that right when he made it clear that night meant nothing to him like he claimed it did." You grumbled, pulling your coat over to cover your bump to make sure no one else was likely to see you.

"Yn," Jungkook said slowly but you held your hand up,

"Don't make excuses for him Jungkook. He fucking used me." Your voice trembled as tears welled up in your eyes, the weight of everything finally causing you to crack.

"You can't hide this from him forever. He has a right to know."

"Just let me figure things out first." You mumbled, begging him as he stared down at you.

"Fine." He stared at you as you nodded, slowly walking away from him as you felt an impending doom hanging over you, threatening to shatter everything you'd built to protect yourself. 

After you left Jungkook stood outside of Namjoon's studio, his heart heavy with the weight of the truth he was about to reveal. As much as he wanted to keep your secret he didn't want to do that to his friend and he knew there was more to the story than Namjoon ignoring you after a night together. 

"Joonie, we need to talk." He said as he walked into the studio, Namjoon frowned at him but nodded for the youngest member to sit down.

"What's up?" He asked him slowly as Jungkook's throat tightened, his head muddled trying to find the right way to say it.

"It's about Yn." Namjoon's hand on his pen tightened,

"What about her?" He asked, animosity laced in his voice as he thought about you.

"She wanted to come crawling back to us? I don't want her working with us anymore." He grumbled out, Jungkook eyed him up as he stared at him wondering what had gone so terribly wrong between the two of you.

"She's not welcome here anymore."

"Why?" There was going to be no more dancing around the topic and not mentioning your name as if you were Voldemort.

"She knows what she did wrong." He hissed making Jungkook frown. It seemed the two of you believed the other was in the wrong.

"What did she do, Hyung?"

"She slept with me when she had a boyfriend waiting for her at home." Jungkook knew you were single, you'd devoted every single second of your life to music.

"Boyfriend? Noona doesn't have a boyfriend." 

"So who was John? He was texting her all night, asking where she was and when she was going to go back to him because he was waiting for her back home." None of that made sense,

"John is one of her co-workers, he works with TXT," Jungkook told him before realisation began to register with Namjoon who the man had been.

"So...W...What did you want to talk to me about?" Jungkook sighed a little.

"She's pregnant, Namjoon. Seven months along." Namjoon's world came to a crashing halt as he stared at him, his mind reeling in disbelief and confusion.

"How?" He asked shocked, Jungkook hesitated, his gaze filled with sympathy as he watched everything hit Namjoon.

"You know how." He said softly but Namjoon just stared at the floor. The truth hits him like a ton of bricks, everything falls into place. Your sudden avoidance, working from home and refusing to be their producer anymore. It was all making sense now.

"She's carrying my child," He whispered as Jungkook sighed a little.

"She asked me not to tell you but you needed to know," Namjoon nodded at him, barely acknowledging him as he slowly got up and made his way out of the studio.

Before he knew what was happening Namjoon was outside your place and knocking on the door. He knew it was going to be hard to talk to you about all of this since so much time had passed but it was time to face the truth.

"We have to talk." Namjoon said as soon as you opened the door to him, your chest aching with seeing him standing there. You knew Jungkook wouldn't have been able to keep his mouth shut so you'd been preparing for him.

"What about?" You stared at him as he took in a deep breath,

"About the baby," His eyes were filled with something you'd never seen from him before, he looked so vulnerable. 

"What about the baby?" You asked, stepping to the side and letting him into your apartment. 

"I want to be a part of their life, Yn. I want to be there for them, to watch them grow up, to be their father." Your breath caught in your throat at his words,

"Why? You practically kicked me out the night after we had sex so why all of a sudden do you care?"

"I thought you had a boyfriend! Okay? I saw a text from John and I thought-"

"That I was whoring myself out to everyone so you just decided to give me the cold shoulder?" You snapped angrily at him, you couldn't believe he would do something like this.

"You're the one hiding my child from me!" He grumbled at you and you sighed, rubbing the bridge of your nose.

"This is why we can't do it together. We fight all the time, we just scream at each other." You mumbled, sitting down on the sofa and feeling completely defeated. 

"Yn."

"Can you look at me and tell me that when this baby comes it'll work out between us?" You didn't want to keep his kid from him but you also were scared of everything that was coming,

"No."

"So-"

"But I love you, okay? Fuck, I've loved you for so long and I just never show it right." You stared at him in complete shock.

"I love you and I love our baby. I may not have been ready to admit it before, but now...now I can't imagine life without you."

"But-" You barely had a chance to object before Namjoon continued.

"The last seven months without getting to see you have been torture. I miss the jabs you used to say, I miss seeing you...Please."

"We've both made mistakes, Yn. But that doesn't mean we can't try and make things right. For the sake of our child, and for the sake of our love." Tears built inside of your eyes as you struggled to process everything.

"I want to believe you, I do...but...But I'm scared. Scared of getting hurt, scared of losing you again." You finally admit, your tears free falling as you finally let yourself admit you loved him back, that you were hopelessly in love with him.

"I won't let that happen, Yn, I promise you. Just give me a chance to prove it to you and show you how much you mean to me."

"I love you too," You whispered to him, your heart racing as he smiled down at you.

"We can try." You told him as he hugged you close to him,

"Tell me everything I've missed? D-Do you have photos?" You nodded at him, slowly taking him through to your bedroom to get the album you'd already started making of your ultrasounds.

A soft glow filled the cosy living room as you and Namjoon sat together on the couch, your laughter mingling with the sound of your son's joyful giggles. It had been a year since that fateful night when Namjoon had shown up on your doorstep, and in that time, your lives had changed in ways you could have never imagined.

Your son toddled around the room with boundless energy, his chubby cheeks flushed with excitement as he chased after his favourite toy. Namjoon watched him with a smile, his heart swelling with pride at the sight of his little boy.

"Look at him go, babe. He's getting so big." He said with a giant grin on his face, you smiled as you stared at him, your eyes shining with love as she reached out to ruffle his hair.

"He's growing up so fast. I can't believe he's already a year old." You whined, you hated that it was going too quickly. You wanted him to stay young forever. 

"I'm so grateful for you, Yn. For him. For everything." Namjoon said as he kissed your head softly. Your heart swelled with emotion at his words, your eyes shining with unshed tears as you reached out to take his hand in yours.

"And I'm grateful for you, Namjoon. For giving us a second chance, for never giving up on us." Your voice shook a little and he kissed you softly.

In that moment, as you sat together in the warmth of your shared love, you knew that they had found something truly special—a love that had weathered the storms of doubt and uncertainty, emerging stronger and more resilient than ever before.

@chiisaiblog@sw33tnight@kaitieskidmore97@laylasbunbunny@tinyoonsblog@whitefoxgirl@katnisspeetaprim@acciocriativity@choisoorin@heyjiminnie@btsiguess-kpop@halesandy@gothic4under4lord@soulphoenix1618@aerastus@jin-from-the-block@lenfilms@elizaschuyler18@piratequeen-impact @Namgiswifey@delulu18@xyahrinx@katsukis1wife@anthropologymajorkpopmultistan@blairscott@4-chan-inpadella@swga-ficrecs@niktwazny303@armystay89@myyouthdonut@xakx@kittymaryam-thebrowniefairy@kpopmenace143@loveforred@b1nn1e-1s-cut3@elissasimp @royallyjjk @parkjennykim @piercedddriver

#bts #bts x reader #bts imagine #bts imagines #namjoon #namjoon x reader #namjoon imagine #namjoon imagines #kim namjoon #kim namjoon imagine #kim namjoon imagines #kim namjoon x reader

[lillsisamarshmallow]

7 Hybrids Moved In With Me Masterlist

Pairing: Hybrid!Poly!BTS x Fem!Reader

Word count: 61.1k

Read time: 4hrs 50mins

Warnings: Slight Swearing, Homelessness, Mentions of Violence, Blood, Fluff, Reader is described as being ‘smaller’ and ‘shorter’ than the boys.

Genre: Hybrids AU, Fluff, Angst, SWF, Caretaker!Reader

Status: Ongoing

Description:

When the dog hybrid who visits her bakery starts taking extra food Y/N follows it through the alleys to find out why, but what happens when she stumbles upon an empty alley only to find 6 more hybrids and some very familiar pastries?

Chapters: 

Teaser (0)

Bake, Eat, Run (1)

Trespassing (2)

Bunny Boy (3)

Nurse Y/n (4)

Roommates? (5)

Living Arrangements (6)

Water Fountain in the Kitchen! (7)

Rainy days, mysterious notes, and wet apologies (8)

It’s over…? (9)

Working Boys (10)

The Plan (11)

Fair Day (12)

The Betrayal (13)

House Guests (14)

Jealous! Jealous! Jealous! (15)

*This story is also posted on my Wattpad*

 ⚠!This is a work of fiction so please to don't apply anything seen and shown in the book to real life people or situations!⚠

 P.S.

I love receiving feedback and seeing people make up their own theories, headcannons, and ideas about my work so please feel free to do that and ask me any questions you like about the work! This is also my first long term/full length project and the first writing project in a few years. 😊

#bts x reader #jungkook x reader #bts ff #yoongi x reader #LillsIsAMarshmallow #Lills BTS #Lills Kpop #LillsWrites #Lills 7 Hybrids moved in with me #namjoon x reader #jimin x reader #taehyung x reader #seokjin x reader #hoseok x reader #hybrid bts #hybrid!bts x reader #7HMIWM #bts imagines #bts #bts fic #namjoon imagine #seokjin imagine #yoongi imagine #hoseok imagine #jimin imagine #taehyung imagine #jungkook imagine #bts fanfic #bts hybrid au

[joon4eva]

home — kim namjoon.

summary: in a world of distractions and uncertainty, namjoon's only wish is simple yet profound: to always find his way back home—to you.

genre: established relationship / idol au ✰ fluff ✰ smut (18+ pls)

word count: ~5,804 words

tags/warnings: so much kissing, namjoon is so needy, kitchen sex, oral sex (f. receiving), unprotected sex, doggy-style position, voyeurism, creampie, aftercare, there's slight angst if you squint - oc confronts namjoon about his mental health but just straight up domestic as hell afterwards (pls give me)

masterlist :)

the moment the sun had risen, the day had felt incessantly long for namjoon.

the door to his apartment swings opens and he can't help but let out a tired sigh of relief.

he steps inside and quietly closes the door behind him, leaning against it and closing his eyes for a moment to catch his breath and soak in the warmth of being back home.

slowly lifting his heavy eyelids, he kicks off his shoes and shrugs off his coat before sluggishly making his way towards the inviting kitchen.

every step feels like a struggle as he deals with the splitting headache that's been plaguing him all day. it seems like anything that could have gone wrong this week did.

dance rehearsals had proved to be nothing short of disastrous. hobi had constantly been on namjoon's case about each little misstep; it felt as if there wasn't even a single moment of peace to be found.

things only seemed to get worse when namjoon retreated to his studio, only to endure a painful eight-hour session without managing to stitch together a single line of lyrics. every imaginable obstacle and setback had plagued him.

maybe the worst of all was how much he missed you. it had been more than a week since he last saw you properly – only catching glimpses of you in the mornings when you shared a quick kiss at breakfast or late at night when you were already asleep, and it only compounded the stress he was feeling.

namjoon nears the kitchen, but stops dead in his tracks - suddenly realizing how different his apartment seemed tonight.

his usually dim apartment is lit up with warm light that softly spills into every corner. there's soothing music emanating from the vinyl record player – playing an album that you'd bought together; and perhaps most strikingly, the most enticing smell dances tantalizingly through the air, coming from the kitchen.

a soft smile graces his lips when he takes in the sight of you, humming to yourself as you stir something on the stove.

between stirs, you take small, appreciative sips of wine from a glass resting on the nearby counter. you were also wearing that green floral sundress that he adored so much, the one that never failed to remind him of that first time he saw you in it.

—

he recalled sitting comfortably in the living room, engrossed in a book, when you shyly walked in wearing the new dress you had bought. the soft sound of your voice beckoned his attention, and as he lifted his gaze, his breath caught in his throat.

"what do you think?" you asked, giving a little twirl as you stood in front of him.

his eyes widened as he took in the sight before him: your figure beautifully framed by the mid-thigh length dress, a tempting side slit elongating your legs. the dress hugged your curves perfectly, emphasizing the swell of your breasts that filled the cups just right.

for a moment, he simply stared at you, rendered speechless by how absolutely stunning you looked.

worried that his silence meant he didn't approve, you looked down at floor and asked hesitantly, "do…do you not like it?"

snapping back to reality, namjoon tossed his book on the coffee table and swept you into his embrace, his arms enveloping you as he pulled you onto his lap.

his fingers gently cupped your chin, tilting your face upward to meet his gaze, the heat of your breath mingling as your noses brushed against each other. "i love it," he murmured against your lips.

his tongue darted out, moistening his lips before he pressed a teasingly damp kiss to the corner.

"really?" you asked breathlessly, anchoring yourself by clutching onto his broad shoulders.

"really," he hummed approvingly as his large hands slid beneath the fabric of your dress, cupping and squeezing your ass.

his lips tenderly planted soft kisses along your collarbone, trailing down to the curve of your breasts. guiding your hips forward, you could feel the growing hardness beneath namjoon's shorts brush deliciously against your clothed clit, eliciting a gasp from your lips.

before either of you knew it, your dress was bunched up at your waist, exposing your bare skin to the air as you sank down on his cock, feeling him divinely split you open. and with that same dress still on, he skillfully brought you to climax not once, but three times.

—

in swift, purposeful strides, namjoon closes the distance between you, his presence enveloping you from behind.

startled by his sudden arrival, your body tenses for a moment before recognizing the familiar touch. a soft sigh of relief escapes your lips, and you allow yourself to relax into his strong arms as they encircle you, embracing his solidity and warmth against your back.

his lips graze against the sensitive skin of your earlobe, imparting an enduring trace of warmth as he gently plants a swift yet tender kiss there. his breath, which is warm and welcoming, brushes against your ear as he whispers a soft greeting in a tone that is both low and smooth.

"hi," he murmurs with an almost seductive timbre.

you slowly turn within his hold, facing him directly, feeling his hands shift to find stability on the counter behind you. his fingers curl and tense slightly to accommodate his weight while effectively ensuring you remain close to him, trapped within his proximity.

"hi," you reply softly, feeling an uncontainable smile spread across your face.

namjoon's dark eyes drink in every detail of your appearance, unabashedly checking you out.

his gaze trails lingeringly over your chest for just a moment before finding its way back to meet your own eyes again. unable to contain yourself, you let out a soft giggle as you catch him in the act.

namjoon simply grins at your knowing expression before narrowing the already-minimal gap between you further.

closing that final distance between you both completely with a sweet yet short kiss pressed upon his pouted lips; namjoon offers an exaggerated look of disappointment in response to the briefness of the contact — only making you smile wider and ready to indulge him further.

"you could've lingered a little longer.”

"i didn't realize i was being timed," you retort playfully and press another feathery light kiss on the tip of his nose.

he chuckles softly at your words and leans down to lock his lips with yours again, this time deepening the kiss, as his arms wrap securely around you.

your own hands instinctively find their way to his broad shoulders and upwards to cradle his face.

namjoon breaks the kiss, breathing heavily, but continues to keep you close, his eyes searching yours for a confirmation of some unspoken question.

"i missed you," namjoon confesses, his tone genuine and vulnerable, as he unconsciously resumes pressing delicate kisses on your exposed neck and shoulder.

"i missed you too," you admit, biting your lip to hide a grin.

an appreciative hum escapes namjoon's lips as he pulls back just far enough to see your face again. he gives you a tender smile that manages to be both somber and radiant at once.

in an instant, however, the moment is interrupted by the sudden billowing of steam from a pot on the stove.

you part from his embrace to quickly stride over to the stovetop and move the pot to a different burner, shutting off the burner completely.

with deft movements, you grab a wooden spoon from the countertop and give the contents of the pot a swift stir, ensuring that nothing has scorched during your brief interlude.

namjoon watches you from a distance, a contented and endearing smile slowly spreading across his face as he observes your movements.

unable to resist any longer, namjoon saunters over to where you stand working at the stove. he quietly positions himself behind you once again and lovingly wraps his arms around your waist.

his fingers teasingly wander along your hips and thighs, tracing delicate patterns through the fabric of your dress and eliciting a mix of laughter and mild admonishment from you.

his nimble fingers begin their descent down your abdomen, teasingly grazing lower and lower until they flirt with the hem of your dress.

"namjoon…" you chastise him in a tone laden with feigned exasperation. "i'm trying to cook here," you continue while juggling between suppressing giggles and maintaining focus on the task at hand. he chuckles as his hands persist in their exploration, not deterred by your plea.

the warmth of namjoon's breath cascades onto your neck as he presses tender kisses upon your delicate skin.

as he presses his lips against a particular spot on your neck, he feels satisfaction when he hears a soft moan escape your mouth with pleasure that is undoubtedly amplified by the sensitive reaction your body is having to his touch. it seems as if your will has started to waver, causing namjoon to switch from gentle pecks to a firmer bite that leaves a mark.

"but i want you," he whispers into your ear. "let me have you, please."

the bulge in his pants is almost painfully obvious now, as he presses firmly against you. his longing is tangible in every word he utters.

just then, he deliberately sinks his teeth into a particularly sensitive spot on your neck and sucks on it softly, eliciting a moan that escapes your lips before you even realize it.

namjoon's hands slip under the hem of your dress and graze dangerously close to your panties. his fingers slowly make contact with your clothed heat, and every muscle in your body momentarily seizes up as a small gasp escapes your lips. the unexpected sensation prompts your head to drop back onto his sturdy shoulder, struggling to suppress another moan.

"can i?" he inquires voice barely audible, awaiting your consent.

in that instant, one thing becomes abundantly clear: the dinner simmering on the stove is no longer the priority.

you quickly place a lid on the pot before spinning around within namjoon's arms. your eyes lock onto his for a moment before you press your lips against his in a fervent kiss. your arms wrap around him tightly, pulling him closer to you.

the low groan that emanates from namjoon sends a jolt through your body; with a swiftness borne from urgency, his hands deftly sweep down to find purchase on the backs of your thighs - hoisting you up with ease and enticing your legs to encircle his waist.

namjoon's steady strides carry both of you across the kitchen floor until he gently positions you atop the cool countertop situated on the opposite side of the island.

desperation flares wildly within both of you as you tangle together, hands urgently tugging and pulling, craving more skin-on-skin contact. it feels like forever since you were able to feel namjoon like this. fingers glide along your waist, caress the swell of your breasts, and trace the contours of your hips. your back arches, seeking more of his touch, as he maps every inch of you with his hands and lips.

your hands find their way to the hem of namjoon's shirt, lifting it up and over his head before discarding it onto the kitchen floor. his hands respond in kind, roughly lowering the straps of your dress and helping you shimmy out of it until it too joins the growing pile on the floor.

with heightened anticipation growing within both of you, namjoon guides hot and wet kisses fervently along your body.

his steady hands nudge you gently to lean back against the cold countertop, the stark contrast of temperatures sending a shiver up your spine.

moans of pleasure escape your lips as his passionate kisses trail increasingly closer to your sensitive core, teasingly delivering tender bites here and there as he continues his descent.

your wetness has managed to seep through the delicate fabric of your panties, prompting you to bite your lip in anticipation.

a long, lingering kiss lands on your clothed clit, causing your hips to involuntarily jolt forward, a moan escaping your parted lips. a soft chuckle follows from him at this observation.

"so sensitive," he hums in appreciation.

his lips press against the delicate bundle of nerves again, his nose playfully nudging your clit, eliciting a desperate huff from you.

growing more eager by the moment, you call out his name—your voice thick with longing and desire.

namjoon's fingers delicately dip under the lace waistband, painstakingly drawing down the fabric until finally casting it onto the floor with your dress, leaving you in just a lace bra. the soft glow radiating from the kitchen lights causes your glistening core to shimmer enticingly, drawing him ever closer.

namjoon proceeds to press one more adoring kiss upon the delicate skin lining the inside of your thigh.

gently, he guides his tongue from your entrance up to your clit, fully embracing it with his warm mouth as he expertly sucks and swirls. your moans flow without restraint, your fingers instinctively reaching to tangle themselves in his soft hair, while namjoon holds onto your hips with a steady grip, keeping you in place.

his position between your thighs grants him a front-row seat to the most stunning view of your face — the adorable way your features scrunch up and the parted lips emitting those sweet sounds he adores so much.

he plunges a finger inside of you, watching as your eyes flutter close and a drawn-out moan escapes from your lips.

he lifts his head, with traces of your arousal on his chin and nose. his voice floats up to tease you even more, "feels good, doesn't it?"

it's a question that doesn't really need an answer; it's clear just by looking at you. however, he asks it anyway – perhaps to coax a response from you – or simply to hear you say it.

biting your lip to suppress further cries of delight, you can only nod eagerly in response. a slight frown forms on namjoon's face; he wants to hear you say it.

"say it," he insists softly but firmly. the sensation overwhelms you as he adds another finger, stretching and filling you completely.

you can feel tears well up in your eyes as waves of pure pleasure course through every nerve ending and surge like distant tides toward their unrelenting climax.

clutching onto namjoon's hair and grinding your hips against his mouth, you manage to nod eagerly and stutter out through gasps and moans, "y-yes, baby. oh, god, it feels s-… so good."

namjoon smiles affectionately at your submission; pleased by your response.

"good girl," he murmurs softly before returning to his fervent actions.

his mouth dives between your thighs again — working as if he were a starving man finally eating for the first time in weeks. his fingers move skillfully inside you, delicately curving and thrusting while his lips and tongue work in sync, lapping at your sensitive clit with perfectly timed flicks and gentle suction.

the sensation becomes all-encompassing as your body finally succumbs to the intensity of the orgasm that rips through you, the tremors and shivers rippling through your body and leaving you gasping for breath.

namjoon gradually eases the pace of his movements.

he releases a soft hum of satisfaction as he tenderly cleans you up with feathery licks at your slit, each gentle touch causing you to whimper from the lingering oversensitivity.

slowly raising his head from between your thighs, namjoon peppers tender kisses along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs. his lips continue upward until they reach your abdomen, where he plants more sweet kisses. then, with a gentle hold on your arms, he helps you sit up on the countertop.

you eagerly wrap your legs around his waist, simultaneously drawing his face to yours with your hands as you reel him in for a hungry, open-mouthed kiss. your tongue ventures into his welcoming mouth, keen on tasting yourself on his lips.

he wraps his strong arms around you, his hands making their way up to tangle in your hair. with a gentle tug, he pulls your head back slightly, causing a moan to escape your lips as he leaves a trail of soft kisses along your neck. he applies a little pressure, causing your head to tilt back as you sigh in delight.

suddenly and without warning, namjoon firmly grips your thighs and slides you off the counter. he hoists you up, cradling your naked body against his waist and carries you with long strides toward the bedroom.

"wait! wait, my wine!" you exclaim with a giggle.

namjoon pulls back slightly and chuckles in disbelief, "honey, can't it wait?" you pout playfully at him and he lets out a mock sigh of exasperation before turning back towards the kitchen island.

careful not to drop you, he retraces his steps to the other side of the kitchen island so that you can reach for your wine glass.

both of you laugh as namjoon turns back around to his bedroom and nearly sprints down the hallway, narrowly avoiding spilling your drink on the floor or bumping into any furniture.

upon reaching the bedroom door, he gently sets you down on the bed as you lounge back.

you're holding onto your half-full wine glass, and you prop yourself up on your elbow, taking in the sight of namjoon as he eagerly unbuckles his belt.

he slides down his pants and boxers in one smooth motion, his throbbing length slapping against his abdomen.

as you watch him, you hold onto the wine glass in one hand while using the other to unclasp your bra.

you toss the discarded lingerie onto the floor and watch as namjoon's eyes follow its descent before locking onto you once more.

he moves forward on sturdy legs, his knees finally meeting the soft mattress as he positions himself over you. his fingers find the rim of your glass, plucking it from your hand as he chuckles softly, "i've definitely earned some of this."

with that, he drains the remaining liquid in two large gulps before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand and setting the glass down on the nearby nightstand.

leaning back towards you, namjoon braces himself with both hands on either side of your body as he inches closer to you, gently trapping you beneath him.

his hand gently brushes over your body before landing on your breast. his mouth follows the path established by his hands; landing on a nipple and taking it between his lips, drawing out a mixture of pleasure and restrained moans from deep within you. your hands entangle in his hair as your hips instinctively press up against him in search of friction, feeling a familiar heat begin to pool between your legs again.

namjoon presses his lips fervently against yours, enveloping you in a passionate kiss full of heat and the intoxicating taste of wine.

your mouths open and close, nibble and devour. the space between your lips and his is briefly empty as namjoon pulls away, only to widen as your gaze shifts downwards.

with hesitation slipping away like sand through fingers, you reach out to take him in your grasp, coating your fingers with the pre-cum already gathering at the tip before you start stroking ever so gently. his forehead comes to rest against yours as he allows a low moan to escape his lips, his hips subtly shifting in response to your touch.

foreheads touching and breath mingling, you suggest, "let me suck you off."

caught off guard by the proposal, he stammers out a refusal.

"n-no," namjoon protests, shaking his head, his breath hot on your skin. "i won't last."

"well, that's the point, isn't it?" determined to tease him further, you tighten your grip and intentionally slow down your strokes on his engorged cock. namjoon's breath catches in his throat as his large hand envelops yours to cease your movement.

and in a sudden burst of energy, he skillfully repositions you on the bed. your legs are bent, and your hips are lifted, while your face presses gently into the soft pillow. a delightful gasp escapes your lips as your cheek comes in contact with the plush cushion, and you're intensely aware of the warmth growing between your legs as it begins to trail down your thighs.

namjoon takes a moment to appreciate the sight before him, letting out a contented exhale at the view of your body perfectly positioned. an alluring flush washes over you; fully aware you must look every bit like a porn star, since you had carefully prepared for this moment knowing namjoon would be home early. but you didn't expect to find yourself so eagerly sprawled out on his bed before dinner.

his fingers gently explore the globes of your ass before finding their way to your slick folds below. with the pads of his fingers, he reaches under you to tease your clit with deliberate motions, drawing a moan from deep within you as it's muffled by the pillow.

"god, baby… how can you be this wet already?" he marvels, a surprised chuckle arising from him.

you whimper in response, the pillows clenched tightly within your grip. "please, namjoon," comes the desperate plea from between clenched teeth. "i've been waiting for this all day."

namjoon gently leans over you, planting your bare back with dozens of tiny kisses, traversing a path along your spine. as his lips trail upward towards your earlobe, his warm breath tickles your ear as he whispers, "turn your head to the left."

following his instruction, your eyes meet the reflection of both you and namjoon in a strategically placed mirror.

you take in the ravenous image of yourself: wide-eyed and framed by tousled hair resting on soft pillows, your back curved and breasts firmly pressed against the mattress beneath you.

"keep those beautiful eyes on the mirror."

with bated breath, you watch as he positions himself at your entrance, the head of his throbbing cock teasingly grazing your slick folds.

as he slowly pushes inside you, a sharp gasp escapes your lips, your senses overwhelmed by the exquisite sensation of him stretching you open, filling you inch by inch, causing you to instinctively clench around the delicious intrusion.

"think you can do that for me, baby?" he teases, his voice a velvet rasp, as he buries himself deeper.

you nod eagerly in response, unable—or perhaps unwilling— to look away as his fingers entwine themselves within yours.

"pretty baby," he coos, meeting your eyes in the mirror. "already so fucked she can’t speak."

your breath catches in your throat, and you almost struggle to keep your eyes open – it feels like blissful exhaustion is starting to set in.

you can feel his cock drag out, teasing you with a fleeting emptiness, before he slams back in with a force that leaves you gasping for breath.

stray strands of hair cling to your damp skin as droplets of sweat escape from under you. it's almost shameful how wanton you appear—your lips parting as droplets of saliva threaten to dribble out with each labored breath.

"please," you manage to whisper between breaths, "harder."

without hesitation, his grip on your hands tighten as he quickens his pace and intensity at once.

with every forceful motion back and forth, the headboard rocks vigorously against the wall; probably loud enough for the neighbors to hear at this point.

“o-oh my god,” you let out a shuddering gasp through another moan, beginning to move your hips back to meet namjoon's rhythm. "i'm going to… i'm going to cum again," you stammer breathlessly.

you can feel his control slipping, his movements growing more urgent, more desperate, mirroring the frenzy building within you. his hands clamp onto your hips, holding you tightly - so tight that you're certain there will be marks later.

"inside, namjoon. come inside!" you mewl through muffled sobs into the sheets.

namjoon's movements falter, eyes widening from above at your request. you can tell he's more than willing to give you what you want.

"f-fuck, baby. inside? are… you sure?"

"i need it! please," you beg through gasping breaths, tears now starting to gather at the corners of your eyes.

he curses through gritted teeth under his breath and moans in response, tightening his grip on your hips.

unable to restrain yourself any longer, a sob escapes your lips as the climax rushes through you like a crashing wave of rapture.

this time feels even more intense than before, moaning and gasping uncontrollably as your inner walls clench tightly around namjoon's pulsating cock, coating it with your warm, slick arousal.

it's not long before namjoon's thrusts become erratic; eventually his hips still as he releases himself inside of you, repeating your name like a mantra while feeling his cock pulse deep inside of you.

as his frenzied movements gradually slow and your knees slightly give out, namjoon collapses on top of your back - still buried deep inside you.

you can feel his breath on your skin as it comes in steady gasps trying to catch up with his racing heart. he shifts, letting his hands come to rest on both sides of your body as he supports his exhausted weight.

a satisfied sigh escapes your lips as you feel the warm trickle of his cum escape your core, moistening the sheets beneath you.

your gaze remains fixed on the mirror to your left, allowing you a clear view of your naked body cushioned by plush pillows and namjoon's long, fit frame sprawled protectively across your own.

his hair is adorably disheveled, slightly obscuring his eyes. as your eyes lock with his through the reflection in the mirror, a slow smile stretches across his face.

with a nonchalant flick of his fingers, he brushes his hair out of his eyes before offering you a flirtatious wink, causing giggles to bubble up from both of you. the otherwise quiet room is dimly lit and filled only with the sound of your shared breathing.

raising himself onto one elbow, he tenderly kisses the back of your head before murmuring, "hang on; i'll be back."

he carefully slides out of you, eliciting a slight wince from you at the sudden sensation of emptiness. adjusting your position on the bed, you lean onto your side and wait for him to return.

moments later, namjoon reappears with a damp towel draped over one arm, a water bottle in hand, and an open bag of his favorite snack tucked between his teeth.

naked and unabashed, he sets down the water on the nightstand and sits beside you on the bed.

wordlessly, he offers you the bag; with a smile, you accept it and pop a chip into your mouth.

intently, he watches your enjoyment with an affectionate half-dimpled smile, pressing a tender kiss to your knee while you settle comfortably.

namjoon adjusts his position and gently taps the side of your leg as a signal for you to open them. with the warm damp cloth in hand, his muscles flex as he carefully cleans you up; the warmth of the fabric elicits a sigh of contentment from you.

deciding to break the comfortable silence, you ask with slight hesitation, "so… how was your day today?"

deep down, you already knew the answer..

the truth is: you knew namjoon was having a hard time at work lately.

you meant to bring it up sooner, really. but you didn't know how to do it without coming across as intrusive or nosy.

after all, namjoon gets enough scrutiny in his life as a musician; the last thing you wanted to do was add to that by being a nagging girlfriend.

at first, you noticed he was coming home from work later than usual. this made you somewhat apprehensive at first – you didn't want to jump to any conclusions about what he might be doing instead of working – but he'd never given you any reason to doubt him. you trusted him.

you also noticed a lot of the times he appeared restless during the rare periods he was at home, often times incoherently mumbling in his sleep or tapping his foot nervously at the table as he stared blankly off into space.

one night, at around 3am, you instinctively reached out to namjoon's side of the bed only to find it empty.

sitting up in the dark, your heart raced frantically trying to come up with an idea as to where the hell he was at this hour.

quietly slipping out of the bedroom and into the hallway, you were moments away from imagining the worst when your eyes caught a faint glow emanating from under the door of his home studio.

pressing your ear to the door, you could just make out the gentle hum of music coming from within. he was still working.

despite all of this, you chose to keep your concerns to yourself for a while longer. but after nine days of hardly seeing him, you knew that eventually, the conversation had to happen.

"it was good," namjoon answers softly, not meeting your eyes as he finishes wiping you off.

he stands up, disposing of the used cloth in a nearby laundry hamper.

"okay," you say gently, "now give me the real answer."

you watch him closely from your comfortable position in bed as he opens a nearby closet door with a quiet sigh.

he reaches up to take out a stack of fresh, neatly folded sheets and carefully closes the door behind him.

as namjoon walks back to the bed, his eyes finally meet yours, and he stands at the foot of the bed with the sheets still cradled in his arms.

"i don't know what you mean," he says defensively.

you roll your eyes, feigning annoyance as you huff, "okay. well, i'm not moving until you tell me."

namjoon's brow furrows in concern for a moment before he tries to change the subject. "do you need help going to the bathr—" he begins, but you cut him off with a quick "nope" and a slow shake of your head, crossing your arms firmly over your chest.

he exhales, glancing up at the ceiling before setting the clean sheets down at the foot of the bed. sitting next to you, he gently places a comforting hand on your leg.

you give him a moment as he traces soft circles on your skin, his eyes searching for the right words to say.

"i'm sorry," he finally begins. your body stiffens, caught off guard by his response. you really weren't expecting an apology.

"i haven't been a very good boyfriend lately," he admits, his smile strained and sadness evident in his eyes.

"and none of that is your fault. i'm sorry," he repeats, his gaze lowering in shame.

blinking back a sudden wave of tears, you sit up slightly and cover his large hand with yours, weaving your fingers together.

"namjoon, what on earth are you talking about?"

he looks up at you, mouth open to respond before you interrupt, "you're such a good boyfriend. the best, actually. i've just been worried about you lately. i can tell you've been pushing yourself.”

namjoon looks down at your hands and then back up into your eyes. you can almost see the gears turning in his head.

"i want to be here for you when things get tough. we should be able to talk about anything together."

a silent beat passes before he nods in agreement, squeezing your hand gently.

he then lifts your entwined fingers up to his lips and plants a tender kiss to your knuckle. "yeah," he breathes out, "it's been really hard. and you're…"

he exhales sharply, running a hand through his hair as he searches for the right words once more.

"you're so normal. you make me feel normal, even when my life is anything but. it's so complicated already; i just don't want to burden you with that."

his voice wavers slightly as he swallows, avoiding eye contact.

"joon," you say softly, trying to make him look at you again. "you could never be a burden to me. that's something you should never worry about."

as his eyes finally meet yours, they glisten with an array of emotions—appreciation, love, and relief all present.

he gazes at you adoringly and nods in response, uttering a soft "okay."

unable to resist the urge any longer, you lean forward and cup his face tenderly with your hands, planting a sweet, delicate peck right on his lips. the warmth of his skin beneath your fingertips is soothing, even though your heart races within your chest.

you start to pull away but feel namjoon's strong hands dart up to grab your face as he draws you back into a deeper, more passionate kiss, both of you giggling against each other's mouths.

your hands slide up to namjoon's neck and weave themselves into his thick hair, nails softly grazing his scalp with just the right amount of force to elicit a delightful sigh.

sensing an invitation, his tongue tentatively ventures out to glide alongside yours, mingling the warmth between you.

namjoon momentarily adjusts his teeth on your bottom lip, gently sinking down on your bottom lip before releasing it with a subtle pop and eliciting an involuntary moan from deep within your throat.

you sense him shifting his position on the bed, eventually hovering over you as if preparing to dominate you but breaking the kiss instead.

without warning, namjoon wraps one arm around your lower back while grabbing your thighs with his other hand. in a swift upward motion, he lifts and hoists your naked body on his waist, coaxing you to wrap your legs around him for support.

you gasp, instinctively holding on tighter, feeling the thrill mingle with fear as you wrap your arms tightly around his torso.

"namjoon!" you exclaim mid-laughter, feeling both exhilarated and slightly turned on at being tossed around so effortlessly.

his strong hands now shift from the back of your thighs to support you by cupping the curves of your ass.

with bold strides and a gleeful grin, he carries you like this toward the bathroom, depositing you gently onto the cool surface of the countertop.

standing between your parted thighs, he leans in close again— this time offering you a burning, fervent kiss that is so hot and heavy, quickly rendering you dizzy as butterflies wildly flutter within your stomach.

eventually namjoon pulls back to examine your face, bringing his thumb up to gently caress your swollen bottom lip as a cheeky grin threatens to break through his solemn demeanor.

his eyes twinkle mischievously, reflecting the lustful haze that clouds your vision.

"shower?"

#bts fanfiction #bts imagine #bts x reader #namjoon imagine #kim namjoon #namjoon x reader #kpop imagines #bts smut

[7ndipity]

“Not Just Friends"

Namjoon x Reader

Summary: You and Joon have been toeing the line between friends and something more for weeks, and you finally decide to make the first move.

Warnings: Swearing, Suggestive, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this! I can't tell if I like this one or not, I'm too tired lol, but hopefully you will!(Also, I can't, for the life of me, come up with titles🤷)

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

“Okay, it’s the zombie apocalypse,” You started for the third time that afternoon, shifting to face him where he sat next to you on the bench. “All we have to eat are mint chocolate protein bars.”

“That sounds absolutely disgusting.” He said, scrunching his face up at you.

“It’s all we have left!” You retorted. “Would you eat them or not?”

“Nope.” He responded immediately, sipping his coffee.

“Seriously?! You would rather starve?!” You asked in disbelief.

“I would leave them for you, so you could survive.” He said, shrugging.

“That’s sweet, but also very stupid.” You commented.

“Well, I guess that’s just me.” He said, smirking at you.

“Ugh,” You cringed, making him chuckle. “Why do I even bother with you?”

“Because I buy you coffee?”

“Mmm, not sure if that’s good enough.” You replied dryly, reaching over in an attempt to flick the brim of his ballcap, but he leaned out of your reach, making you nearly wobble off balance before shifting back to your original position.

It felt nice to hang out with him like this again, ending the day just sitting together in the park as the first leaves of autumn skittered by on the breeze. Things had been slightly off between you the past couple weeks, following a slightly drunken evening out together with some other friends had resulted in you both sharing more than you maybe should have.

“So, I have a question.” He drawled, leaning slightly closer than was necessary for you to hear him. “What would you do, hypothetically, if I told you somebody was into you?”

“It depends,” You replied, giggling slightly at his focused gaze. “Is it you?”

“Maybe.” He said, raising a brow as he stared at you, feeling yourself suddenly sober up a bit as you realized he was being serious.

“Then I would say, hypothetically, that I like you too.” You answered, pulse picking up as you noticed his eyes flicker down to your lips, leaning in a little more.

The sound of a glass being dropped somewhere else across the room had shook you both out of your trance, reminding you that you weren't alone, scooting away quickly before anyone else noticed what had happened, or almost happened…

Neither of you had directly spoken about your conversation from that night, but there had definitely been a noticeable shift in your dynamic.

When you were out together, he would briefly catch hold of your hand as you wove through the crowded streets to keep you close. You always claimed the seat beside him, which had earned you a few curious glances from a couple of your other friends.

You weren’t exactly dating, but you definitely weren’t ‘just friends’ anymore. Due to the nature of your limbo state, however, there was also a slight sense of uneasiness, not quite knowing where the line lay between what was okay and what wasn’t anymore.

It had grown quiet as you’d gotten lost in your thoughts, contemplating whether or not to just bite the bullet and ask the dreaded ‘What is this?/What are we?’ question, but before you could decide, you felt a sudden droplet of water hit your hand, quickly followed by another on your cheek as you glanced up at the darkening sky.

“Aw, shit.” You grumbled, fumbling to pull your jacket hood over your head as it began to rain properly. “I thought it wasn’t supposed to start till later.”

“I told you.” He said, grinning as he sat back, not bothered in the least by the sudden weather change.

“You know, you’re one of the only people I know that actually likes getting caught in the rain.” You commented, watching him in amusement.

“Rain’s nice.” He said tilting his head back to let it fall on his face.

When he sat back up, something seemed to shift between you again as you made eye contact, feeling that familiar tense flutter in your stomach as his gaze flickered down to your lips.

Seized by a sudden surge of confidence, you leaned forward again, not breaking eye contact as you caught his shirt collar before pulling him down gently, connecting your lips.

For a split second, everything else seemed to fade out, the only thing you were aware of was the feel of Namjoon’s lips moving softly against yours.

Too soon, you pulled back, no more than an inch, feeling you and Joons’ breaths slip out in shaky exhales as his eyes slowly fluttered open to look at you.

“Do that again.” He whispered, hands coming up to hold your waist firmly, pulling you closer to him. “Please.”

At his plea, you immediately leaned in again. This time, the kiss was much more intense, teeth clashing and tongues moving against each other as your hands fumbled to find purchase on his shoulders, only breaking apart when your lungs started to burn from lack of oxygen.

“Fuck,” Namjoon sighed, leaning his forehead against your shoulder as he tried to catcht his breath. “I’ve wanted to do that for weeks.”

“Why didn’t you?” You asked.

“No idea.” He chuckled, pressing closer to you as a sudden breeze made you both shiver.

“It’s raining a lot.” You noted, taking in your dampening surroundings.

“Mhm.”

“We should probably head home.”

He groaned, pulling back reluctantly. “I don’t wanna let you go yet.” He said, pouting slightly.

“Who said you had to?” You asked.

He tilted his head at you questioningly.

“I said we should head home, I didn’t say it had to be alone.” You said, winding your hand into his.

“Oh, Okay.” He grinned.

#namjoon scenario #namjoon scenarios #namjoon drabble #namjoon imagine #namjoon blurbs #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon oneshot #bts one shot #bts reaction #bts scenarios #bts drabble #bts fluff #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts imagines #bts reactions #bts requests #7ndipity

[mykoreanlove]

my only one

Your engagement party was a full blast - the pittoreske venue was filled with the people you loved most. Everybody was dancing, drinking and celebrating your upcoming wedding.

You had been shaking firm hands and giving out heartfelt hugs all night long, so you snuck out onto the balcony to take a break.

The balcony was covered in golden fairy lights, slightly illuminating the breathtaking view in front of you.

You didn’t turn around as you noticed the door open, you had a gut feeling who it would be.

Strong arms hugged you from behind and a raspy voice whispered in your ear - your home had found you.

„Hey“, he whispered, „you okay?“

You nodded silently and grabbed his arm, squeezing lightly.

„Am now“, you smiled.

Namjoon chuckled and hid his face in the crook of your neck, resting silently for a moment or two.

„You know… you can still say no.“, he stated nervously.

You laughed out loud, filling his ear with the vibration of your amusement.

„Now why would I do that?“

Namjoon hugged you even tighter, merging into one once more.

„So you really mean it, huh?“

„Joon, you’re stuck with me. Forever.“

„Forever? Really?“

„Yes, you dumbass, forever. Were you really doubting?“

He let out a deep sigh, as if he was finally releasing the anxiety he carried in his heart.

„It’s just that sometimes I feel like this is too good to be true. You’re too good to be true, y/n.“

You pushed his head back gently and turned around, looking up into his saddened eyes.

„Listen up, big boy. I love you and you love me. It’s supposed to feel this good.“

You saw his cheeks redden, as he averted his gaze embarrassed. You reached for his big hands and squeezed them as tightly as you could.

„I’m not running away, Joon. I know you are the one for me.“

He turned to face you and smiled warmly.

„The one?“

Namjoon was a confident man, taking extreme pride in his talents and intellect but the slightest doubt could turn him into an anxious mess. Especially if the doubt was about you.

You nodded cheerfully, while making your point.

„When did you realize?“

„Pretty early on“, you said and turned around again, observing the beautiful landscape in front of you.

„Hey, wait. Tell me when! Please, y/n“, he whined into your ear as his arms found your waist again.

You let your head fall back against his broad chest and smiled, remembering those days fondly.

„Do you remember when we first met? How we used to be?“

He nodded.

„We were inseparable back then, always hanging out with each other or calling or texting. It felt like we were obsessed with getting to know each other“, you mused happily.

„That didn’t change“, he said as he left soft kisses on your neck.

„One time when we were on the phone we had a conversation that sealed the deal for me. From then on I just knew that I would marry you some day.“

„What did I say, baby?“

„Oh god, I can actually quote it. How lame am I?“, you laughed embarrassed.

„The lamest. But I love you for that“, he chuckled against your skin. „Now tell me.“

„You said you were proud of me. It was super random and I didn’t understand why. I had to ask for clarification.“, you reminisced.

„Wait, I remember that call.“

You stayed silent for a second, replaying the situation in your mind.

„I am proud of you because you’re doing so great, y/n. Eating your veggies. Drinking your water. Taking your vitamins. Going for walks. Taking care of your mind. Staying positive. That deserves all my proud, y/n.“, you quoted him.

Namjoon stood quietly behind you, already knowing where this was going.

„I didn’t tell you at the time but I was facing a lot of shit. A lot of heavy stuff that made my life a living hell. And I was not doing fine. At all. Taking care of myself, even the simplest things, were a heavy burden to me. But I was trying my best and yet somehow you caught that.“

You turned around once more and looked into his loving eyes, stroking his cheek as you exclaimed your love for him.

„You didn’t need me to articulate my pain. You just knew. It’s like you saw right through me and decided to stay anyway. To give me my time to come to you instead of pressuring me into telling you.“

Namjoon‘s eyes were filled with tears as he listened closely, this was the first time you ever spoke about it that candidly.

„You sensed the war within me and provided me with peace. To me, Joonie, there’s no greater act of love. And I promise to return that love every single day. If you let me.“

Namjoon wiped away the tears hastily, but you stopped him.

You reached up to him and kissed him, tasting his salty tears on his sweet lips. In this moment you were sure that this wouldn’t be the last time for salty kisses but you didn’t mind. As long as you got him by your side, you were good.

Your Joon. Your home. Your only one.

#mykoreanlove #bts imagines #bts angst #bts fluff #bts fanfction #bts fanfic #rm bts #bts namjoon #namjoon x you #namjoon drabble #namjoon fluff #namjoon one shot #namjoon angst #namjoon fanfic #namjoon scenarios #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x reader #namjoon imagine #bts x y/n #bts x fem!reader #bts x you #bts x reader #rm x y/n #rm x you #rm fluff #rm fanfic #rm x reader #rm fic #bts romance #bts rm

[ugh-yoongi]

hi! would it be alright if i asked what your favorite namjoon fics are? thank you and have a great day 💗🥹

hello nonnie, it is always okay to ask me for fic recs! <3

most of these works contain mature themes/content. please heed tags and do not engage with any explicit work if you are a minor!

i know there are a bunch i've forgotten, so please reblog and share your own work and your faves!

also, please note: there are a lot of fics on these lists that are posted to ao3. it has recently come out that a volunteer was removed from their position for being pro-palestine (you can find the twt thread here). i am in the process of looking for a better alternative, but until then, it is unfortunately probably the best way to share these stories. while i personally won't be posting to or reading on ao3 for the time being, how you choose to engage going forward is completely up to you! i just wanted to make sure i was being transparent.

namjoon x reader

anything by @effortandmore

anything by @hamsterclaw

anything by @miscelunaaa

1-year anniversary by @johobi

omerta by @anotherbtswriter

hammer it home series by @gukslut

hey, it's me & leave no trace behind by @yoongiphoria

love bytes by @stutterfly

real magic & park and ride by @here2bbtstrash

house of cards & guilty by @xjoonchildx

lacuna by @eoieopda

dream team by @bangtanintotheroom (feat. hobi)

cyanide on my bedsheets by @jimilter

laundry day by @snackhobi

bloom by @hobidreams

the snow globe effect by @gukyi

you've got a friend in me by @wwilloww

pronoia by @junghelioseok

limbo by @beahae

love hard by @raplinesmoon

swiss miss by @here4kpopfics (feat. seokjin)

my feet to follow, and my heart to hold by @daechwitatamic

a fine line by @moni-logues

roommates with benefits

as always, mxm fics under the cut!

member x member

softer than steel (namseok)

frustrations in late foucault (namseok)

the universe needs more you (namseok)

in your atmosphere (namseok)

why don't you figure (my heart) out (namseok)

i'm on fire (rap line)

delta (rap line)

꽃꽂이. kkotkkoji (namjin)

you have 1 new message (namjin)

beta tau sigma (namjin)

white rabbit (namjin)

local dumbass idiot helps sexy criminal and then writes sad bird poems instead of just saying Yes Seokjin I Like You Too (namjin)

easy (namjin)

and they were roommates (namjin)

burn me like an ember (namjin)

the understood boundaries of self (namjin)

more walls (collected along the way) [namjin]

imprints & magnitude (namjin)

salt water (namjinkook)

disgruntledofficebrat [active] (namkook)

you can leave the cape on (namkook)

108 degrees (namkook)

the whole of the moon (namkook)

travelogue with a frat boy (namkook)

it's a color that i can't describe (namkook)

how much to give and how much to take (namkook)

the courage of stars (namkook)

come take it (if you want a piece of me) [namkook]

a feel so sweet (namgikook)

objects in mirror are closer than they appear (namgi)

green carnation (namgi)

the added bonus (namgi)

tear you apart (namgi)

different when i'm with you (namgi)

adrift (namgi)

i'll fuck you if you let me, baby (namgi)

sleepless in (namgi)

恋の予感 (namgi)

take it or leave it (namgi)

baby, but we will (namgi)

verified amateurs [online now] (namgi)

cyrano more like cyraNO (namgi)

record it for later (namgi)

into the red morning (taejoon)

don't call it love (taejoon)

i am red with love (taejoon)

the bad thing (minimoni)

you were more than just light (minimoni)

wish we'd fall in love (minimoni)

but i want it anyway (minimoni)

#namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon imagine #namjoon scenarios #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fic recs #fic rec

[7brownsuga7]

Namjoon boyfriend headcanon ♡

He’ll let you sit in on his studio sessions. Wanting to hear your input on his creations, and sometimes just vibing to random music.

Will guide you down the streets with his hand on your lower back. And he refuses to allow you to walk by the road

I can see him reading you one of the books he’s reading while you lay in bed, his words and voice lulling you to sleep.

Will take off guard pictures of you.

His camera roll is filled with candid picture and videos of you. And he will randomly show them to his friends/family.

Great boyfriend etiquette

Can’t help but to think about the future. He’s so excited to have you in his life that he just can’t help but to think about what the future holds. He constantly finds himself daydreaming, and even casually brings it up with you.

He’s very passionate and wears his heart on his sleeve.

He takes relationships seriously and doesn’t have time for petty arguments, he wants to make it work and hates arguing, even though he kind of escalates it by always needing to be right. When you guys have an argument he will want to properly talk it out and will take your feelings into consideration. If you guys are arguing he will be really hurt. He’ll be in his head a lot and will be deeply affected. Walks to clear his head, venting to close friends, etc.

Love notes!!! You’ll randomly find love letters in random places. Just his way of letting you know how much he loves you and how much you mean to him.

Cute little dates. Like museum trips and park dates. Painting in the park and little picnics and bike rides. He wants to do so much with you and can’t help but to get excited and plan multiple trips/outings/dates

As much as he’ll be caring for you and catering for you, you’ll be doing the same. We all know how clumsy he can be, and we’ve seen him cook (him cooking that ramen on in the soop s2 had me cackling) + he likes to be babied but won’t admit it!

#namjoon headcanons #namjoon headcanon #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #bts namjoon #kim namjoon #namjoon #namjoon imagine #namjoon scenarios #namjoon bts #bts boyfriend material #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts x reader #bts #bts army #bts bangtan boys #bts headcanons #namjoon bangtan #kim namjoon imagine #joon bts #boyfriend material #namjoon fluff #bts fluff #fluff #bts x you

[euphoricfilter]

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• ° kinktober day 14

[day fourteen: face sitting]

pairing: namjoon x f. reader

tags/ warnings: pwp, touched on insecurities, face sitting, namjoon’s a munch, grinding, pleasure dom joon

notes: smut essentially straight under the cut. also unedited so if there are mistakes no there aren’t <3

kinktober masterlist

.　 . • ☆ . ° .• °:. *₊ ° . ☆.

There was the raw sort of lustful want from Namjoon at the mere thought of your thighs caged around his head, face pressed into your sodden pussy.

His cock stirs in his underwear as he watches you pull a shirt over your head, eyes flickering down to your ass; underwear clinging to your skin. Ever so pretty, Namjoon’s fingers itching to sink into your skin.

“Baby” he murmurs, deep rumble of his voice making goosebumps prickle down your arms.

You meet his eyes in the mirror, “yeah?” you turn to look at him. Body on autopilot when he beckons you over with a crook of his fingers.

Your knees sink into the mattress, hand slipping into his as you straddle his lap, pussy clenching when you press over his hard cock.

Your thighs squeeze around his hips, rocking forward ever so slightly as your panties start to slick up, hint of friction sending jolts of pleasure from your clit.

Namjoon’s hands brace against your thighs, watching down the length of his nose as you rut desperately against him, slowly working you up desperate enough. Because as much as he loved you smothering him with your cunt, you weren’t always so open to the idea.

Not because it didn’t feel good, but rather the insecurity of knowing you’d be literally sat on his face.

“Namjoon” you moan, fingers curling into the shirt he was wear, quick to lift your hips so he could pull your panties off after he taps your thigh.

His shirt rides up over his stomach as he drags your bare pussy over his honeyed skin, tacky with your leaking arousal.

“Want you to ride my face, baby” he groans, thumb pulling back the hood of your clit, pressing over the little bud.

You glance down at him, eyebrows furrowing in the slightest. And he’s sure a million thoughts are running through your mind as your bottom lip tucks between your teeth, pleasure slowly ebbing away as your hips stop rutting forward.

“Joon...” you start, voice barely above a whisper.

He hums, thumb rubbing circles over your thigh as he glances up at you, “Please, my love. Make a mess of me”

You swallow as you meet his eyes, Namjoon’s lips barely curling into smile, lazy at the corners as he feels you clench; new wave of slick wetting his skin.

“You know I’ll tell you if it’s too much” he presses on, “gonna make you feel good”

You don’t have to voice your insecurities for him to know, always so caught up in your own mind he wonders If part of the appeal is making you fall apart on his tongue. Mind so lust drunk you don’t dare think about anything else other than his tongue pressing you in places that have your toes tingling and stomach coiling in pleasure.

He lets you stew in your own thoughts for a moment, thumb pressing over your clit gently, sparking up that need for pleasure.

You push yourself up, scooting up his body until your legs cage his head, cheeks burning red as he eyes your pussy, tongue wetting his bottom lip.

“You’ll tell me if it’s too much?” you ask, bringing his attention to your face if only for a moment before his hands are wrapping around your thighs, tugging you that little bit lower.

“I’m serious, Namjoon” you warn, “You better tell me”

“I will” he huffs, warm breath fanning over your folds, clit throbbing as he presses a kiss over your little pearl, tongue flickering out past his lips.

Your fingers curl over the headboard of the bed, toes curling as he brings you down over his mouth, lips sucking at your wet folds.

Your thighs shake a little as you try and hold the weight of your body, anxiety still pressing in the back of your mind, slowly fizzling to a phantom thought as he presses his tongue into you—hands curling around your thighs to fully tig you over his face.

He helps you rock your hips forward, moan slipping past your lips when his nose nudges against your clit. He swallows down everything you have to offer, starved of your essence as he lets it coat his tongue, deep grumble of a moan vibrating over your folds as he licks over your cunt.

Your fingers tangle into his hair, worry slowly melting to nothing but a lust filled haze as you start to use him to get yourself off. Namjoon’s cock twitching beneath the veil of his underwear at your evident pleasure, his name the only word falling out of your mouth between moans as your pleasure starts to build.

Ache in your thighs ignored as your stomach clenches, dribble of arousal painting Namjoon chin and cheeks as you rut your hips forward.

“Gonna cum” you whine, tugging his hair that little bit harder, pressing his face that little further into your cunt. Each exhale out of his nose tickles your clit, mouth tipped open in a silent moan as his fingers dig into the meat of your thighs, own moan of shared pleasure sending you over the edge.

He swallows down your cum, tongue pressing flat between your folds as he sucks over your entrance, groaning at the heady taste of you. Slick and cum smeared across his lips and chin and just ever so messy.

Your thighs quiver as you try and escape his hold, pussy tingling in that slowly growing overstimulation as his lips wrap around your clit, suckling it, roundabout way to try and get you to cum again for him.

“Shit—Joon” you whine, chest stuttering for a breath, “No more”

“One more” he murmurs against your cunt, voice muffled before he’s pressing his tongue back into you, eyes closed in bliss as you leak a little more over his chin.

#bts fanfic #bts fluff #bts smut #namjoon smut #bts kinktober #namjoon fic #namjoon fanfic #namjoon imagine #bts namjoon #namjoon x reader #bts x reader #bts drabble

[syuga-s]

when i'm quiet on the other side, know that i'm loving you

w.c. around 12k 🤭 pairing. Namjoon x female!reader (also Jungkook & reader used to be together) genre. Smut. friends to lovers-ish, pwp, angst (bc it wouldn't be me if there wasn't angst lmao), more pwp, AND FLUFF OFC a/n. NSFW MDNI !!! curse words, alcohol mention, sexual content (fingering, unprotected vaginal penetration, oral m&f!receiving, creampie) ENJOY, let me know if I missed anything okay? <3

You couldn’t help but wonder how different things might have been if you had made a different choice that night so many months ago.

“Did you go out tonight?”

“I didn’t, you?”

“Nah, it’s way too cold tonight, lol,” “I want us to go for a drink though”

“Last week was way colder than tonight lmao”, “when?”

“Tomorrow, is that okay?”

“Yeah tomorrow works, I’m free after 5”

“Pick you up at 7 then.”

Seven moons waxed and waned, each night bearing the weight of a silent longing that lingered in the spaces between heartbeats. In the quiet of those months, the echoes of your last conversation with Jungkook reverberated like whispered secrets carried on the wind, haunting yet distant. Despite growing even closer with Namjoon, part of you remained tethered to the memories of what could have been.

You didn’t remember how this started. Until you honestly stopped to think about it, that is.

You met Namjoon through some mutual friends. Every time you went out with them, he seemed to be there. At first, you didn’t think much of him. He was a cool guy, and all your friends were in love with him, but to you, he was just Namjoon.

Your heart was set on someone else, that being one of the main reasons for your way of thinking.

You thought that Jungkook was finally out of your life. After all those months where he kept you hoping that you’d be together, you opened your eyes and understood that being with him was taking you nowhere.

It wasn’t after two years of being on and off with Jungkook that this mess started to happen. But this isn’t about him anymore. It’s what has been happening ever since.

Several months passed, and you had a trip coming up to Barcelona. Not even a day passed when you found out Namjoon and another one of your mutual friends were in the exact same city as you, at the same time.

You were with some of your college friends. You’d been here for about two days, and all your expectations from this week were below average—until that text came to you.

“I want to see you.”

As Namjoon’s text message flashed on your phone screen, a wave of mixed emotions coursed through you. Memories of seeing him at mutual gatherings, his magnetic charisma, and the undeniable chemistry you both shared suddenly flooded your mind. You couldn’t deny the thrill that his message brought. So, you agreed to meet, not really knowing what to expect.

That night in Barcelona, you and Namjoon decided to explore the city’s vibrant nightlife. The streets were alive with the energy of locals and tourists alike, and the possibilities seemed endless. As you walked through the illuminated streets, the conversation flowed effortlessly.

Namjoon turned to you with a playful glint in his eye. “Barcelona sure knows how to stay alive at night, right?”

You nodded, taking in the enchanting atmosphere. “It does, another city that never sleeps.”

That particular night in Barcelona, you and Namjoon didn’t dwell on the complexities of your dynamic. Instead, you focused on the here and now, indulging in the city’s vibrant nightlife. The streets were alive with the pulsating rhythms of music, and the possibilities for adventure seemed endless.

As you hopped from one lively club to another, the music enveloped you, and you both let loose. You danced together, swaying to the intoxicating beats with occasional laughter and shared glances that needed no words. Namjoon’s occasional hand on your waist or his deep voice softly spoken into your ear amidst the music created a sense of electric chemistry.

In the middle of it all, you reached a state of drunken bliss where the world seemed to blur, and nothing else mattered but the man in front of you. The two of you laughed uncontrollably at inside jokes that would be etched in your mind forever.

It was a night of liberation. The beauty of Barcelona’s nightlife and the intoxication of the moment allowed you to escape into a realm of pure joy.

As the night peaked, the connection between you and Namjoon became more intimate. The night transitioned seamlessly from the vibrant energy of the city to the warmth and comfort of Namjoon’s room.

As you stood on the balcony of Namjoon’s room, overlooking the twinkling city lights below, you felt the warmth of his body radiating towards you. You leaned back against the railing, your heart pounding as you looked up at him. He was so close, yet so far away.

Namjoon’s gaze locked onto you, and he could see the desire burning within your eyes. He felt his own heart quicken, his breath hitching in his throat as he moved closer to you. He reached out, brushing a stray lock of hair from your face, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

“Namjoon,” you whispered, your voice trembling with need.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against yours in a gentle kiss. You melted into him, your arms wrapping around his neck as you deepened the kiss. You could feel his heart pounding in time with your own, bodies pressed together in a dance as old as time.

As you broke apart, gasping for breath, Namjoon trailed his fingers down your arm, leaving a trail of goosebumps in his wake. He could feel the heat radiating off your body, and he knew that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, his voice low and husky.

You nodded, eyes shining with desire. “Yes,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. “I want this. I want you.”

Namjoon’s heart skipped a beat at your words. He leaned in again, capturing your lips in a searing kiss. His hands roamed over your body, exploring every inch of you for the first time. You couldn’t help but moan softly, your body trembling with desire.

He pulled away from the kiss, his breath coming in short gasps. “Fuck,” he whispered, his voice filled with both awe and desperation.

He guided you back to his bed. You looked up at him through hooded eyes, your chest rising and falling rapidly as you tried to catch your breath. “Please,” you begged in a soft voice. “I need you.”

That was all it took to push Namjoon over the edge. He cupped your face in his hands and kissed you fiercely, pouring every ounce of pent-up desire into the kiss.

His hands moved down to the hem of your shirt, and he lifted it over your head in one swift motion, tossing it aside without a second thought. His gaze roamed your exposed skin hungrily, like a starving man who had just been presented with a feast.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation as he traced the outline of your bra with his fingertips. “You’ve always been so, so beautiful.”

You found yourselves pausing your hunger for a few minutes, basking in each other’s presence. You ended up leaning into the comfort of Namjoon’s arms. Both halted the intensity of the abrupt contact, with comfortable silences filling the gaps as you both lost yourself in the city sounds playing softly in the background. The dim light from the room cast a warm glow on Namjoon’s face, highlighting his features and making him even more irresistible.

Feeling a sudden rush of boldness, you moved closer to him, your body instinctively seeking his warmth. His eyes met yours, a silent question lingering in them. He pulled you even closer into his embrace, your bodies molding together as if they were two pieces of a puzzle.

His scent enveloped you, a mix of his cologne and something uniquely him. Your heart pounded in your chest as you felt his breath tickling the skin of your neck. His fingers traced lazy patterns on your back, causing a shiver to run down your spine. This was new, yet it felt so right.

With a soft sigh, you let your head fall back, exposing the long line of your neck. Namjoon’s lips found that sensitive skin, tracing a path down to the hollow of your throat. His fingers continued their exploration, now sliding through your thighs.

You shivered at his touch, your body begging for more. “Namjoon,” you whispered, your voice husky with desire.

He looked up at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of lust and tenderness. “Yes, y/n?”

“I want you to fuck me,” you confessed. Feeling bolder this time, you thought it was your turn to take your hands downtown. You dipped your hand into the hollow of his stomach before going down to trail kisses along the waistband of his pants. Namjoon groaned as he realized where this was headed.

Before he could protest, not that he would, you made quick work of undoing his belt to remove both it and his pants. Namjoon helped you undo them, his breath hitching as you wrapped your hand around his length. He was hard and ready, just as you were. Now fully exposed before you, he shifted uncomfortably under your gaze.

Catching onto his hesitation, you reassured him with a smile. “Don’t worry,” you said softly. “I think I’ve wanted this for a long time.”

Namjoon’s eyes softened as he reached out to brush a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ve thought about you, too,” he confessed. “You have no idea.”

With a swift motion, you stepped out of your own jeans, too, kicking them aside.

You reached behind yourself to unclasp the bra and let it fall to the floor before pulling Namjoon’s shirt over his head and discarding it as well.

Now, almost completely naked, there you stood before him, your bodies mere inches apart. Namjoon’s hands rested on your hips, pulling you closer. His thumb traced circles on your hip bone, sending waves of pleasure through you.

Namjoon’s breath hitched in his throat. A small smile tugged at the corners of your lips at the reaction you were able to elicit from him.

Time seemed to slow down as I took in the sight before me – this was real; he wanted me just as much as I wanted him now.

You went down on him and took him into your mouth, swirling your tongue around the tip before taking him deeper. Namjoon tangled his fingers in your hair, guiding you as you moved up and down on his length. The sight of you on your knees before him, taking him so willingly, was almost too much for him to handle.

“Shit,” he grunted, his hips thrusting forward involuntarily. “I’m gonna come too soon if you keep that up.”

You pulled away with a wicked smile, pressing yourself against Namjoon’s body. He could feel how wet you were even through the fabric of your panties, and he groaned in frustration.

“Why are we still wearing these?” he asked, his voice filled with need as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of your panties and pulled them down your legs.

Once you were both naked, Namjoon’s hand trailed downwards until it found its way between your legs. He ran a finger along your folds teasingly before slipping it inside of you.

You moaned softly at the feeling of being stretched by his finger. “I’m sure we can do more than that,” you begged in a needy voice.

Namjoon added a second finger, pumping them in and out of you at a steady pace. He curled his fingers upwards, searching for that sweet spot deep inside of you.

“God,” he groaned as he felt your walls clench around his fingers. “You’re so fucking tight.”

He continued to work his fingers inside of you until he felt your body start to shake with the first layer of your orgasm. Your back arched off the bed, and a loud moan escaped from your lips as pleasure made your body tremble.

Namjoon removed his fingers from your dripping wet core and brought them up to his mouth, sucking on them eagerly as he tasted your essence.

“You taste so good,” he said, his voice filled with genuine appreciation before moving downwards until he was positioned between your legs.

He leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to your inner thigh before trailing a path of kisses up toward your throbbing center. His tongue flicked out and ran along your folds teasingly before zeroing in on your clit.

You gasped at the sensation of Namjoon’s warm tongue against your sensitive bud. He circled it slowly at first, the pressure increasing with every stroke. The combination of his skilled tongue and the way his hands were gripping the flesh of your thighs was driving you absolutely wild.

“Namjoon, stop,” you moaned, the sound of his name on your lips like a prayer. “I’m gonna cum again,”

Namjoon hummed against you in response, sending vibrations coursing through your body that pushed you right to the edge. His tongue moved faster and more insistently against your clit, bringing you closer and closer to the brink of ecstasy.

With one final flick of his tongue, you shattered into a million pieces beneath him. Your body convulsed with pleasure as wave after wave of bliss washed over you.

Namjoon lapped up every drop of your release, not wanting to miss a single drop of you. Once you had come down from your high, he climbed back up the bed and pulled you into his arms.

You buried your face in the crook of his neck, inhaling his scent as you basked in the afterglow of your passion. “You’re really good at that,” you said softly.

Namjoon pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head. “You taste amazing. I couldn’t help myself,” he replied, his voice filled with genuine affection. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

You looked up at him with a smile and brushed a strand of hair away from his face. There was so much more that you wanted to say, but words were unnecessary at that moment.

Instead, you let your actions speak for themselves as you pulled Namjoon closer and kissed him deeply. The taste of yourself on his lips only served to fuel the fire that was still burning between you.

As the kiss deepened, Namjoon’s hand trailed downwards once again until it found its way between your legs. He could feel how wet you still were, and a surge of desire shot through him like electricity.

He positioned himself at your entrance and looked into your eyes for confirmation before slowly pushing inside of you. You moaned softly at the feeling of being stretched around him once again, nails digging into his shoulders as he filled every inch of you.

Namjoon began to move slowly at first, savoring every sensation as he thrust in and out of your dripping wet core. With each movement, he felt himself getting lost in an ocean that only the two of you could create together.

The rhythm quickly escalated. Your hips bucked against him, meeting each thrust with one of your own. The room was filled with the sounds of the bed creaking beneath you, skin slapping against skin, and moans mingling with whispers. It felt like time had ceased to exist as the world narrowed down to just the two of you, connected in every possible way.

The pace quickened as your bodies moved in perfect sync, building towards a shared climax that was just within reach. Namjoon’s thrusts became more urgent and desperate, like a man on the edge of sanity who was about to lose himself completely.

You could feel your walls clenching around him as an overwhelming sense of pleasure began to build deep within your core. “Namjoon,” you moaned, his name like a prayer on your lips. “I’m cu-”

With one final thrust, you both went hurtling over the edge together; your bodies shuddered and shook with the force of your release.

Eventually, the bliss receded, and you found yourselves once again floating back down to reality. Namjoon collapsed beside you and pulled you into his arms, holding onto you tightly as he tried to catch his breath.

“That was...” he trailed off, searching for the right words to describe what had just happened between you.

“Really fucking hot,” you supplied with a smile.

Hours after being together, you and Namjoon shared a cozy meal on his hotel room balcony, savoring Barcelona’s cuisine. With the city’s magic still lingering in the air, you both settled into a deep conversation about your shared passion for music.

As the minutes passed, you found yourselves planning to attend several concerts together in the coming weeks and months. The anticipation of sharing those experiences added another layer of intimacy to your thing.

You both lay intertwined in each other’s arms, cuddled in the dimly lit room. Fingers traced gentle patterns on each other’s skin, and you shared soft kisses that spoke volumes in their tenderness. That night was filled with smooth, whispered conversations, with playful moments of playing with each other’s hair.

Your time with Namjoon had an electric undercurrent that couldn’t be ignored. While not a romantic undertone, it was clear that there was a magnetic attraction between you two. You shared passionate moments, intimate conversations, and nights filled with desire that went beyond being ‘just friends.’

As you returned home, you both acknowledged the nature of your connection. A “friends with benefits” arrangement that allowed you to explore your feelings without the pressure of defining a full-blown relationship. The connection was intense, yet you hesitated to leap into something more serious.

You’d meet up when schedules allowed, enjoying each other’s company in and out of the bedroom. Your feelings for Namjoon were confusing, and you knew he felt the same way, so neither of you was ready to put a label on it.

As time passed, the relationship continued to evolve. It was a constant push and pull, a dance of desire and restraint. You shared everything with him, but the commitment to a traditional relationship still felt elusive.

Your life continued to grow more complex with each passing day. Not only were you navigating this with Namjoon and what you started doing after Barcelona, but you also had a history with Jungkook, and there already was a connection between these two men.

Jungkook, your on-again, off-again for the past two years, had been a source of both love and, of course, heartache in your life. It was a tumultuous relationship, filled with moments of intense connection followed by periods of emotional distance. He kept you dancing around the idea of commitment, yet he seemed reluctant to fully embrace it.

What made the situation even more difficult was the fact that Jungkook and Namjoon were very close friends. Your social circles had overlapped, and you couldn’t help but wonder if Jungkook had any inkling of your growing connection with Namjoon.

As you delved into the ‘benefits’ dynamic with Namjoon, it added a layer of secrecy to your life.

Your feelings for Jungkook have always been intense and genuine. He was the one you had envisioned a future with, and you longed for a committed, loving relationship. But Jungkook’s reluctance to settle down left you in a state of constant disappointment. He wanted the freedom to explore other options, yet he always kept you within arm’s reach, knowing he could turn to you whenever he pleased.

This cycle was taking a toll on you, causing not only the never-ending heartbreak but also a growing sense of frustration and exhaustion. It was clear to everyone, including your mutual friends, that you were deeply in love with Jungkook, but they also saw the toll it was taking on your well-being.

Namjoon, always so observant and compassionate, saw a glimmer of an opportunity. He understood the depths of your affection for Jungkook and sensed your growing disillusionment. He didn’t plan to interfere but couldn’t help but be drawn to your unique energy and the connection you two shared.

The situation was not of your making. Both Jungkook and Namjoon actively sought you out, and you, despite your love for Jungkook, found it challenging to resist the magnetic pull of your connection with Namjoon.

Jimin’s birthday was a pivotal moment. At that time, you and Jungkook had been mad at each other, tensions simmering beneath the surface. When you arrived at the bar to celebrate, you greeted everyone but Jungkook. The air was thick with unspoken words, and the distance between you was palpable.

Feeling the need for a moment of respite, you slipped away for a cigarette break, seeking solace in the night’s breeze. During this break, you found Taehyung, one of your close friends, who helped you calm down for the night.

Eventually, the group decided to move to another bar, and the atmosphere lightened as everyone indulged in the evening. The drinks flowed, and laughter filled the air. All was good again.

As the night drew to a close, Namjoon kindly offered to drive everyone home in his car. The group piled in, and it was cramped, to say the least. Amid the chaos, you found yourself sitting in Jungkook’s lap, something that was not your choice.

It was during this car ride that Jungkook’s emotional side emerged, fueled by alcohol. He revealed that he was leaving for another country for six months, a fact he had kept hidden from you. You were blindsided by this news and felt a surge of anger and frustration. How could he not have shared this with you before?

Throughout the evening, Namjoon had been watching you closely. He observed how you barely interacted with Jungkook since your arrival and acknowledged the underlying tension. However, he couldn’t deny the surge of anger he felt when you ended up in Jungkook’s lap, even if it was out of necessity.

In the aftermath of Jimin’s birthday, Jungkook planned a farewell dinner for the group on the following Friday. The dinner was heartwarming, even in those conditions. Afterward, you all decided to go for drinks, further complicating everything.

The bar you hit up after dinner turned into a bit of a downer for you. While Jungkook was busy having a blast with everyone else, he seemed to be totally ignoring you. And then, to top it off, he started cozying up to his best friend on the dance floor – talk about a buzzkill. You tried to play it cool, but deep down, it was eating you up inside. Your head was saying, I won’t get jealous, I won’t get jealous, but he kept laughing with her and holding her close to him.

You tried to distract yourself by keeping yourself glued to Taehyung and Jimin, but it was tough to keep up with their conversation when your mind was in a whirl. Chiming in occasionally was getting more complicated, so you let a bitter laugh at the ceiling, excusing yourself to go to the bathroom for a bit, asking your friends to keep your drink safe. Staring at yourself in the mirror, trying to get rid of your pathetic, sad eyes, you felt like you were stuck in some cheesy rom-com.

You couldn’t bear yourself anymore. You knew it wasn’t the girl’s fault, but you couldn’t shake the feeling of what if something was happening between them. You began spiraling, knowing you had to leave the place.

At the risk of seeing Jungkook’s silhouette on your way back to the table, you decided it was time to make a quick exit. Grabbing your purse, you muttered to your friends, “I’ll be right back,” under the pretense of needing some air, and dashed off before anyone could stop you.

Namjoon saw the whole picture. He was aware of your every move and how quick you left the bar. He worried at the thought of your utter goodbye for the night.

In the past days leading up to tonight, Namjoon found himself wrestling with conflicting emotions. On one hand, he longed to be closer to you, to break through the walls you had built around your heart. Yet, on the other hand, he couldn’t help but feel a pang of guilt at the thought of finding happiness in Jungkook’s absence.

When you stepped outside, the weight of the night’s events hit you like a ton of bricks. You stood there on the sidewalk, feeling lost and overwhelmed. You instantly knew it was too much to actually leave like that. Pulling out your lighter and a cigarette, you took a moment to gather your thoughts. It was one of those times when you wished to call your mom and ask her, “can you pick me up?” but I guess ‘we’re too old for that.’ The air around you wasn’t even cold, but everything felt unbearably heavy.

As you stood there, lost in your thoughts, hard to believe that the asshole you love is having the time of his life. Good for him. You kept rambling. Are you really that detestable? How could he be having the time of his life while you were left feeling so insignificant? It stung to realize that he hadn’t even bothered to tell you about his plans to go for half a year. It was like a slap in the face, a painful reminder of how little you seemed to matter to him.

And the fucking icing on the cake is that tonight, you don’t even exist in his world.

As you were spiraling into a whirlwind of more negative emotions, your phone suddenly rang, jolting you out of your thoughts. Glancing at the screen, you saw ‘Joonie’ flashing back at you. With a sigh, you extinguished your cigarette and answered the call.

“Hello?” you greeted, your voice tinged with a hint of frustration.

From the background noise, you could tell that Namjoon was evidently still at the bar. “Care to tell me why you left?” he asked, his tone laced with concern.

You couldn’t help but let out a bitter laugh. “I didn’t leave. I’m just outside having a chat with my cig,” you replied sarcastically.

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line before Namjoon spoke again. “And you didn’t think to include me? I’ve been meaning to talk to that guy,” he joked, trying to lighten the mood.

As Namjoon’s voice filled your ears, a mixture of relief and surprise washed over you. You hadn’t expected him to call, let alone humor you in your self-imposed exile outside the bar.

“I didn’t realize you were such good friends with cigarettes,” you replied, a hint of amusement creeping into your voice despite the heaviness of the situation.

There was a brief pause on the other end of the line before Namjoon chuckled softly. “Well, you know me. Always looking to fraternize,” he quipped, his tone warm and lighthearted.

You couldn’t help but smile at his attempt to lighten the mood, grateful for his presence even from a distance. “Thanks for calling Joonie,” you said, the affectionate nickname slipping from your lips without a second thought.

“Anytime,” Namjoon replied, his voice softening with sincerity. “But jokes aside, are you okay?”

The concern in Namjoon’s voice tugged at your heartstrings, reminding you once again of the depth of his care for you. “I’ll be fine,” you reassured him, although the words felt hollow even to your own ears.

There was another moment of silence, punctuated only by the distant strains of music drifting from the bar. “Do you want me to come out there?” Namjoon asked, his voice laced with anxiety.

As much as you wanted to say yes, to feel the comfort of Namjoon’s presence beside you, you couldn’t bring yourself to burden him with your own shit. “No, it’s okay,” you replied, forcing a note of conviction into your voice. “I just needed some air.”

Namjoon didn’t press the issue. He knew what was happening and understood the meaning of your words. Instead, he simply said, “Alright, but get back inside already. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

Even during your turmoil, Namjoon was there for you. “Okaaaaayyyy dad,” you replied, full of sarcasm.

Namjoon laughed softly, his voice carrying a warmth that eased the ache in your chest. “I’ll be here whenever you’re ready to come back in.”

As you made your way back inside the bar to the table where Jimin and Taehyung were seated, their expressions were a mixture of sympathy and awareness. “Are you okay?” Jimin asked, his voice soft but filled with genuine worry.

You forced a smile, attempting to mask the turmoil raging inside you. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you replied, taking your long-forgotten and watered-down drink in one go, waving your hand dismissively. But they could see through the facade, sensing the underlying chaos that threatened to consume you.

Without a word, Namjoon approached the table. He placed his hand at the small of your back, offering silent support and understanding. In that moment, you felt grateful for his unwavering presence amidst your own drama.

You leaned against Namjoon’s torso and rubbed his chest before excusing yourself from the table once more. This time, however, you didn’t head for the exit. Instead, you made your way to the bar to order a considerable amount of drinks, already determined to stop feeling this level of shitty.

As you stood at the bar, ordering your drinks, you couldn’t shake the unease lingering within you. The noise of the crowded bar seemed to fade into the background as you wrestled with your thoughts, your mind consumed by the events of the evening.

On the other hand, Namjoon was careful to avoid the watchful eyes of your friends, who were scattered throughout the crowded bar. He trailed after you with a sense of purpose, his steps deliberate yet discreet. When he saw you at the bar, he didn’t hesitate to wrap his arms around your waist from behind.

At that moment, Namjoon’s heart swelled. Part of him wanted to console you for your evident emotional state. But another part couldn’t deny the selfish desire to hold you close, to revel in the warmth of your presence, even as you struggled with your own demons.

Leaning in, Namjoon gently kissed your right cheek, a silent offering of reassurance and understanding. To his relief, you sighed softly, your eyes closing as you leaned into his embrace, resting your head against his shoulder without a second thought.

“You look way too hot tonight to be feeling like this,” he whispered softly, his words a tender acknowledgment of your heartache. Despite the seriousness of the situation, his tone showed a hint of playful sincerity.

A voice interrupted the moment, cutting through the noise like a knife. Neither of you noticed Jungkook’s approach until it was too late. Drunk and unsteady on his feet, Jungkook stumbled over to the bar, his eyes widening in disbelief as he caught sight of the two of you together.

"Y/N?" The voice was slurred, unmistakably Jungkook’s. You tensed in Namjoon’s arms, your heart pounding in your chest as you turned to see Jungkook standing a few feet away, his expression a mix of shock and disbelief.

“Jungkook,” you said, trying to keep your voice steady despite the tumult of emotions swirling inside you.

Namjoon tensed beside you, his grip on your waist tightening almost imperceptibly, his expression unreadable.

“Well, well, well, look what we have here,” Jungkook slurred, his words dripping with sarcasm as he stared at you and Namjoon. “Didn’t know you were into my friends, Y/N. Guess you’ll take anyone who gives an ounce of attention, huh?”

The words hit you like a punch to the gut, leaving you momentarily speechless as you recoiled from the unexpected attack. Namjoon, however, was quick to react, his protective instincts kicking into overdrive as he stepped forward to confront Jungkook.

“Hey, that’s enough, man,” Namjoon said firmly, his voice cutting through the air as he placed himself between you and Jungkook.

You felt a pang of regret at what you had inadvertently caused, knowing that Jungkook had every right to feel hurt by seeing you with his friend.

“Y/N... and Namjoon,” Jungkook slurred, his words laced with a hint of mockery. “I never would’ve guessed.”

Namjoon’s jaw clenched in frustration. “Come on, man, you’re drunk, and you’re out of line.” Jungkook scoffed, flickering between you and Namjoon with a mixture of disbelief and anger. “Out of line?” he echoed, his tone dripping with sarcasm. I’m just stating the obvious, aren’t I, Y/N?”

Namjoon placed a calming hand on his shoulder, his touch reassuringly. “Let’s not make a scene,” he said quietly, warning Jungkook. “You’re not yourself right now. We’ll talk about this later.”

For a moment, Jungkook seemed to waver, his drunken facade faltering. But then, with a bitter laugh, he turned and stumbled away.

Turning back to you with a look of concern. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, his eyes searching yours for any sign of distress.

You nodded, offering him a shaky smile as you tried to push aside the hurtful words that lingered in the air. “Yeah, I’m fine,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper. “Let’s just get out of here, please.”

The next day dawned with a sense of unease, the previous night’s events still fresh in your mind. As you woke to the harsh light of day filtering through your curtains, you couldn’t shake the discomfort that settled over you like a heavy blanket.

Dragging yourself out of bed, you checked your phone to find a message from Jungkook, his words a stark reminder of the events that had unfolded the night before. “Hey, did you come to the bar last night?” he wrote, his tone casual as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. “I can’t remember a thing, lmao.”

On one hand, his casual tone and obliviousness to the events of the previous night grated on your nerves, but on the other hand, there was a sense of relief knowing that he seemed unaware of the tension that had hung between you, at least for now.

With a heavy sigh, you composed a response, your fingers tapping out a brief reply. “Yeah, I was there,” you wrote, your words tinged with a hint of bitterness you couldn’t shake. “What a night, huh? I’m glad you had fun.”

Meanwhile, on Namjoon’s end, the morning brought a sense of apprehension as he grappled with the aftermath of the confrontation with Jungkook. Despite his best efforts to put on a brave front, he couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt that gnawed at him from within.

Throughout the day, he debated whether or not to touch the subject with Jungkook. Still, his resolve faltered each time he tried to gather the courage. How could he confront his friend about his behavior without risking losing you?

As the hours passed, it became increasingly clear that Jungkook had no recollection of the events that had transpired the night before. His mind was fogged by the haze of alcohol, and he seemed oblivious to your exchange, leaving Namjoon at a loss for how to proceed.

After the farewell dinner passed, Namjoon became aware of your persistent efforts to see Jungkook one last time before his departure. He observed as you reached out to Jungkook, only to be met with excuses. Jungkook definitely didn’t want to make the effort to see you.

In the middle of the week, all the guys went out to grab some food; Namjoon sat in the backseat of the car alongside Jungkook, Jimin in the passenger seat, and Taehyung at the wheel. He noticed Jungkook’s phone light up with your name on the screen. It was already dark outside, so the glow from the phone illuminated Jungkook’s face, and Namjoon clearly saw your name on the screen.

It wasn’t a silent ride, so Namjoon didn’t know how the hell he could hear your voice so well as you spoke to Jungkook. Your desperation was palpable, each word carrying the weight of your emotions as you questioned Jungkook about what he had been up to and if he hadn’t gotten the chance to see any of your texts. Namjoon felt a pang of sympathy as he listened, knowing all too well the pain you were feeling.

Jungkook’s response was vague, and his attitude spoke volumes during the conversation.

It was a moment of rawness, the culmination of all your emotions laid bare in a single question. “Can’t you see I was in love with you?” As you spoke, your voice trembled with emotion, the words hanging heavy in the air. “I never asked you for anything,” you continued, your tone tinged with desperation. “nothing, Jungkook, not for you to move in with me or marry me; I just wanted to be with you.” Each word was punctuated by the ache of unfulfilled longing, a plea for understanding in the face of uncertainty. “I don’t get why we can’t be together,” you confessed, the weight of your heartache evident in your voice.

As Namjoon listened to your heartfelt plea, his heart sank with the weight of your words. He felt the tension in the air, a palpable reminder of the turmoil brewing beneath the surface. Unsure of what to do, he found himself fidgeting with his phone, his fingers tracing aimless patterns on the screen. He glanced briefly at Jungkook, whose expression remained unreadable, before clearing his throat in an attempt to dispel the heavy silence that hung over them. “Should we try that new restaurant that just opened up downtown?” Namjoon suggested his voice as carefully neutral as possible. He knew that your words had struck a chord in his friend.

As Jungkook struggled to find the right way to respond to your words, his mind raced with conflicting emotions. He opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. His silence hanging heavy in the air.

Sensing his hesitation, you felt a surge of tears welling up inside. Without waiting for him to finally say something, you abruptly ended the call, your actions driven more by the need to release your pent-up emotions than a desire to hear Jungkook’s explanation. The line went silent, leaving Jungkook alone with his thoughts, grappling with the weight of your words and his own inability to answer.

Jungkook’s feelings for you remained ambiguous. It was evident that there was a deep connection between you and him. He knew he loved the attention you gave him without fully understanding your feelings. To be completely honest, you caught him off guard tonight.

He never expected your affection to run so deeply, and the words you just revealed to him left him feeling surprised and perhaps a bit overwhelmed. Jungkook may have underestimated the extent of your emotions and failed to recognize the depth of what he had with you until now.

Namjoon picked you up at the hour he promised. He didn’t waste time and started asking you about what you had been up to. He said he wanted to know how you liked the last music festival you went to, how work had been, and barely five minutes had passed.

“So, where do you want to go?” “I was thinking we could go to one of the bars near my place; what do you think?”

“Sure, I haven’t gone out at all lately”, “did you have one in mind?”

“Wait, tell me first, did you already have dinner?”

You shook your head.

“Good because I haven’t either.” What do you say if we go home and have dinner instead?”

“I’d like that”, “what about some takeout?”

On your way to get food and to his house, he didn’t stop talking for the whole ride; he kept asking all these things about you. And it’s not like you’ve not seen this side of him, but it felt nice that someone was interested enough to ask about your life lately.

The conversation flowed effortlessly as you sat on his bed, eating and watching a movie. You talked about books and films and even asked if you’d considered having children someday. The atmosphere between you was electric, as always, and Namjoon couldn’t help but be swept up in it.

Getting your containers out of the way, he gently hugged you closer, feeling the warmth of your body against his. Your heart raced at his touch, you could never deny the connection between you. “Aren’t you cold?” He began to kiss your neck, sending shivers down your spine as his lips explored your sensitive skin.

The movie played in the background, but you barely noticed as Namjoon pressed you closer, his body molding against yours. “Not anymore,” and then he kissed you deeply, his tongue exploring your mouth as his hands roamed your body.

The heat between you was undeniable as Namjoon lifted you onto his lap, your legs straddling him as he rutted into you. You moaned with pleasure, your bodies moving in a rhythm that felt both new and familiar.

Your hands tangled in his hair as you kissed him passionately, lost in the moment. Namjoon’s hands roamed over your body, tracing every curve and leaving a fire trail in their wake. The air around you was thick with desire as you both gave in to the electricity that pulsed between you.

His lips moved from your mouth to your neck, nibbling and sucking on the sensitive skin, marking you as his. Each touch sent jolts of pleasure straight to your core, causing your breath to hitch and your body to arch against him.

“Namjoon,” you moaned his name softly, the sound music to his ears. He lifted you effortlessly, laying you down on the bed so that he could hover above you. His eyes held a mixture of hunger and adoration as he took in the sight before him.

“You’re so hot,” he whispered, his voice filled with sincerity. You felt a blush creep onto your cheeks at his words, but before you could respond, his lips were on yours again.

The kiss was deep and passionate, igniting a fire within you that threatened to consume everything in its path. Namjoon’s hands explored every inch of your body, leaving no skin untouched. The soft fabric of your clothes became an obstacle that needed to be removed. With nimble fingers, he began undressing you.

When all barriers were gone, he took a moment to admire the sight before him - your naked body spread out beneath him like it was the first time his eyes ever saw you. You squirmed under his gaze. 

Get a grip. This is not the first time this has happened.

He leaned down and captured one of your nipples between his lips while his hand massaged the other breast. The sensation was overwhelming as pleasure coursed through every nerve ending in your body.

Your back arched as you moaned his name loudly into the room. Namjoon continued to lavish attention on your breasts, alternating between gentle sucking and teasing flicks of his tongue.

His lips traveled a path of hot kisses down your stomach, leaving a fire trail in their wake. He peppered your skin with soft bites and licks as he made his way to the apex of your thighs.

The anticipation built within you as you felt his warm breath against your core. When his tongue finally made contact with your sensitive bud, a moan ripped from your throat. It was intense, almost too much to handle, as he expertly swirled his tongue around your clit.

Your hips bucked involuntarily as waves of ecstasy crashed over you like an earthquake. Namjoon held onto your thighs, keeping you in place as he continued to devour you with his mouth. His hands were firm yet gentle as they held onto you, grounding you in the sea of pleasure that threatened to sweep you away.

As the intensity grew, so did the need for more. You tugged at Namjoon’s hair, urging him to come up to kiss you. He complied, moving up your body until his lips met yours once again.

You flipped him over so that now you were straddling him again. Your hands roamed over his muscular chest and abdomen before trailing lower to remove his pants.

The familiar sight before you took your breath away - Namjoon completely naked and at your mercy. His length stood proudly at your attention, begging for your touch. You wrapped one hand around him firmly while using the other to tease his balls.

The anticipation built within him as he felt your warm breath against his neck. You peppered his skin with soft bites and kisses as you made your way to the apex of his thighs.

When you finally took him in your mouth, all coherent thought fled from Namjoon’s mind. The sensation was indescribable - a mixture of wet heat and suction that threatened to push him over the edge before he even had a chance to enjoy it fully.

Your tongue swirled around the tip of his length. At the same time, you maintained eye contact with him, the sight alone nearly enough to send him hurling into oblivion.

As if reading his mind, you hollowed out your cheeks and took him in deeper, maintaining eye contact the entire time. Namjoon’s hips bucked involuntarily as pleasure surged through every fiber of his being.

“Oh fuck,” he moaned loudly, the sound reverberating throughout the room. Encouraged by his reaction, you continued to work him with your mouth, alternating between long strokes and teasing flicks of your tongue.

Namjoon’s hands found their way into your hair, holding onto you for dear life as he rode out the electric charges coursing through his veins. The feeling was almost too much to bear, in the best possible way.

He could feel the pressure building within him as he neared the point of no return. With one final thrust of his hips and a low groan that quickly turned into a string of curses, Namjoon came undone.

His release flooded your mouth in hot spurts, the taste always so addictive. You swallowed him down eagerly. When he finally finished, and his body went limp with pleasure, you released him from your mouth.

Namjoon’s head fell back against the pillow and a groan escaped his lips. The sound was like music to your ears as it signaled that you drove him just as wild as he was driving you.

You leaned forward and captured one of his nipples between your lips, sucking gently. Namjoon’s hands found their way to your hips, holding you in place as he thrust upwards, seeking more friction, not giving room to his own overstimulation.

The combined sensations were overwhelming as pleasure surged through every fiber of your being. You continued to grind slowly, relishing in the way his breath hitched and his body reacted to your touch.

“Fuck, I need to be inside,” Namjoon groaned, his voice filled with desperation. The words sent a surge of heat straight to your core as you felt the wetness between your thighs increase.

You positioned yourself over him, lining him up with your entrance before slowly sinking down onto his length. You never got used to the exquisite feeling of fullness he gave you when he filled you completely, stretching you in all the right ways.

Namjoon’s hands gripped onto your hips tightly as you began to move, riding him at a pace that left both of you breathless. His eyes never left yours as he watched all of your emotions play out on your face.

The sounds of skin slapping were intoxicating. Every movement brought you closer and closer to the edge until you finally felt yourself teetering on the edge.

“I’m coming,” you managed to gasp out between moans. Namjoon nodded in understanding, his own release rapidly approaching. He reached between your bodies and began rubbing circles on your clit, pushing you over the edge.

Stars exploded behind your eyelids as a powerful orgasm crashed over you. You clamped down on Namjoon’s length as pleasure pulsed through every nerve ending in your body.

The sight was enough to send Namjoon rushing into his own orgasm. With a loud groan, he spilled himself inside of you, filling you up and leaving you all warm and pliant.

He collapsed beside you, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath. You rested your head against him, your thoughts suddenly swirling with confusion and desire.

Another movie on TV played in the background, but once again, it went unnoticed as Namjoon pressed soft kisses against your forehead.

As you lay in Namjoon’s chest, your body still warm from his touch, you began questioning your decisions. The weight of the moment pressed against your chest as you listened to the rhythm of his heart. It was a stark reminder that you were here with him, tangled in the sheets, while Jungkook remained out of reach.

It was the pain of missing someone so unattainable.

“I’m so glad we talked,” he playfully whispered against your skin. You looked up at him, and Namjoon sensed the shift in your demeanor. He propped himself up on one elbow, his gaze tracing over the contours of your face. “Are you okay?” he asked softly, concern lacing his voice.

You turned your head to meet his gaze and offered a small smile. “Yeah,” you replied, though uncertainty lingered in your words. “Just...thinking.”

He reached out a hand to gently brush a strand of hair behind your ear, his touch lingering against the curve of your jaw. Namjoon’s dark eyes held an intensity that made your breath catch in your throat. “About what?” he inquired.

You hesitated for a moment before deciding to be honest with him. After all, he had been nothing but open and sincere with you since your dynamic began to form. “Suddenly, I just started wondering...what am I doing” you admitted, searching for the right words to explain yourself.

Namjoon’s expression softened as he took in your words, understanding blooming across his features. He shifted closer to you, closing the remaining distance between your bodies and cupping your face in his hands. “You’re here doing this with me because we both want this,” he said firmly yet gently.

His thumb traced circles along your cheekbone as he continued speaking. “I know it’s complicated,” Namjoon acknowledged, his voice filled with empathy. “But we've built something mind-blowing—we can’t deny that.”

Your heart swelled at his words. Namjoon saw past the physical desire, recognizing the emotional entanglement that had brought you to this moment.

He leaned in, his lips brushing against your forehead in a tender gesture. “I don’t want you to overthink this,” Namjoon murmured. “Just let yourself feel, and we’ll figure it out somewhere along the way.”

His words resonated with you, easing the whirlwind of thoughts spinning through your mind. In this quiet and intimate moment, Namjoon had provided the reassurance and grounding that you needed.

You wrapped your arms around him, in awe of what he just told you. His body melded with yours, offering warmth and solace in a way that no one else had. Here, in the sanctuary of his arms, you allowed yourself to surrender to his intoxicating hugs.

The weight of uncertainty began to lift as passion replaced doubt. Namjoon’s touch ignited a fire within you—one that burned away insecurities and hesitations.

With a newfound sense of clarity, you tilted your head up to capture his lips with yours in a searing kiss. It was a silent admittance—a shared understanding.

Namjoon responded eagerly, his lips moving hungrily against yours as desire flared between you. The air grew thick with anticipation as the heat intensified, driving all rational thought from your mind.

In this moment—this raw and unfiltered desire—you were able to set aside the complexities of love and longing. It was just the two of you, bodies entwined.

You ground your hips against him, aching for more of his touch. The friction between you was intoxicating, and the hunger in Namjoon’s eyes mirrored your own.

With one hand gripping your waist, he used the other to trace a path down your body, leaving a trail of goosebumps in its wake.

Needing to feel more of him, you tugged at his torso, silently urging him to get closer. Namjoon obliged.

Unable to resist any longer, you leaned in to press a kiss against his collarbone. Slowly, you worked your way across his chest, nipping and sucking at his skin along the way. Each moan that escaped from Namjoon’s lips only spurred you on.

Namjoon’s hands roamed over your body, creating an inferno wherever they touched. Desire pooled low in your stomach as his fingers traced patterns on your skin, igniting a fire that hadn’t been extinguished earlier.

Unable to wait longer, you straddled him again, aligning your bodies so perfectly that it felt like coming home. The heat radiating from his hard length made you gasp in anticipation; you needed him desperately once again.

Namjoon’s hands found their way to the small of your back as he pulled you impossibly closer until there was no space left between. Every ridge and plane of your bodies met and melded together as if they were always meant to be this way.

Your eyes locked in before he finally entered you, inch by glorious inch. A moan escaped both your lips at this new sensation; it hasn't felt like this before. It was clear that brand new emotion was being assimilated in your bodies.

As Namjoon began moving inside you with slow yet deliberate thrusts that had you seeing stars with each delicious stroke, your lips found each other once again. The kiss was a perfect blend of passion and desire that left you both gasping for breath.

Your nails dug into his shoulders as you clung to him for dear life, your body rocked by the force of his movements. Each thrust brought you closer to the edge, the intensity building with every passing second.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” Namjoon groaned against your lips, his voice laced with a rawness that sent shivers down your spine. It was all you could do to hold on as you quivered; there wasn’t even a point in counting how many times he’s made you cum tonight.

You moved together in perfect sync, lost in a world where only your bodies and the overwhelming need for one another existed in this room. Time ceased to have any meaning as you chased your releases.

When it finally hit— that earth-shattering peak that left you gasping for air— it was as if everything fell into place. At that moment, there were no doubts or uncertainties; it was just you and Namjoon and the undeniable infatuation you shared.

As the world slowly came back into focus and your breathing returned to normal, you rested your forehead against Namjoon’s, staring deep into his eyes. You didn’t need words to convey what you were both thinking; this had just been the most incredible sex any of you have had since you started seeing each other.

The morning sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a soft glow in the room. Namjoon stirred beside you, his sleepy gaze meeting yours. You exchanged a knowing look, but the weight of unspoken questions hung in the air.

As you both got dressed and prepared to leave, the atmosphere between you grew slightly tense. The intimacy you had shared was undeniable, but the implications were yet to be understood. You couldn’t ignore the lingering question of whether this was still a momentary escape for you or something that blossomed out last night.

As Namjoon drove you home, the usual comfortable conversation flowed between you, easing some of the tension that had built up within you. His presence was a source of familiarity and reassurance, and you couldn’t help but wonder what exactly the dynamic between the two of you was turning into.

You had always considered Namjoon a nice guy, someone you could rely on, someone who took on the role to care of you in every way. Lately, things have taken a more intimate turn, blurring the lines between friendship and something more. The physical encounter you had just shared added a layer of complexity to your relationship, leaving you with whole lot of questions.

As he pulled up in front of your house, you turned to face him, contemplating your next move. You appreciated him taking you home, but you wanted to retreat to the familiarity of your own space as soon as possible, where you could process the events of the past night.

As you stepped out of the car, you thanked Namjoon once again for everything. The unresolved tension hung in the air, unspoken words and uncharted territory lingering between you. It was clear that there was more to explore, but you also recognized the importance of introspection in this situation.

Walking away from the car, you couldn’t help but wonder what the future held for you and Namjoon. Would you continue to explore this newfound connection, or would you both retreat back to the safety of being just an acquaintance, brushing off the intensity of the previous night as a momentary lapse?

As you entered your home, uncertainty weighed on your mind, and the echoes of the night still resonated within you. One thing was sure, though—this unexpected encounter had left a strong mark, forcing you to confront your fears.

As you continued to navigate your emotions, you couldn’t help but wonder. Would you eventually find the clarity? Or were you destined to be caught in this eternal struggle between the familiar but tumultuous past and the electrifying but uncertain present?

I don’t even know what I’m getting myself into.

A week later, as the evening sun dipped below the horizon, casting hues of pink and orange across the sky, you found yourself lost in thought. It had been weeks since Jungkook had finally come back and texted you, so fate had a way of bringing you back together when you least expected it.

It started innocently enough. You were on your way to meet a few friends for dinner when you spotted him across the street. The sight of Jungkook after all this time sent a jolt of electricity through your veins, stirring emotions you had tried so hard to bury.

Caught off guard, you hesitated for a moment, unsure of how to proceed. Should you approach him and acknowledge his presence, or should you pretend not to see him and continue on your way?

Before you could decide, Jungkook turned and locked eyes with you. Time seemed to stand still as you stared at each other, the air thick with unspoken words and unresolved tension.

Taking a deep breath, you summoned some courage you didn’t know you still had. “Jungkook,” you called out softly, your voice barely above a whisper.

Facing you, a mixture of surprise and uncertainty flickering in his eyes. “Y/N,” he replied, his voice equally soft.

For a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the past hanging heavy between you.

“I didn’t expect to see you so soon,” Jungkook finally broke the silence, his tone tinged with a hint of sadness.

“I could say the same,” you replied, countless emotions swirling inside you.

There was a pause as you both searched for the right words, the distance between you feeling both vast and infinitesimal.

“How have you been?” Jungkook asked, his voice filled with genuine curiosity.

You shrugged, unsure of how to answer. “I’ve been... okay,” you replied hesitantly. “And you?”

Jungkook nodded, a small smile playing at the corners of his lips. “I’ve been keeping busy,” he said cryptically.

More silence followed as you both struggled to find common ground, the awkwardness of the situation palpable.

“I should get going,” you finally said, breaking the tension. “It was... nice seeing you, Jungkook.”

He nodded, unable to meet your gaze. “Yeah, you too,” he replied softly.

Just as you turned to leave, Jungkook found himself unable to resist the urge to speak up. “Wait,” he called out, voice barely above a whisper.

You turned back to face him, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “yes?” you asked, your tone gentle.

He hesitated for a moment, the words catching in his throat. “Can we get together and talk sometime?” Jungkook finally asked, his voice trembling slightly.

Your expression softened. “About what?” you replied, your voice barely audible over the city’s din.

It was quiet for a minute. “Forget it,” Jungkook said quickly, his smile faltering. “It’s nothing.”

But you couldn’t let it go. “No, Jungkook,” you insisted, stepping closer to him. “What do you need to talk about?”

For a moment, Jungkook seemed taken aback by your question, his eyes widening in surprise. And then, with a slight smile, he stepped closer to you.

He cleared his throat, leaning in slightly as if sharing a secret. “I mean,” he started, his voice barely above a whisper as though he was afraid of the words themselves. He paused, taking a moment to collect his thoughts before continuing. “It’s not like I need to, but...”

You listened intently, the gravity of Jungkook’s words sinking in. It was as if he was voicing the thoughts swirling in your mind, the unspoken desires and lingering emotions that you had both been grappling with for so long.

“We’ve always made it complicated, I know,” Jungkook continued, his eyes searching yours for understanding. “But I can’t help but wonder if maybe—just maybe—there’s a chance for us to figure out what we had.”

For a moment, you were both suspended in time; your shared moments and potential futures flashed through your eyes. Jungkook’s question had stirred something within you, a complicated mix of nostalgia, longing, and confusion. The echoes of your past relationship with him were interwoven with the exciting and passionate dynamic you had recently discovered with Namjoon. You knew you had to make a decision, not only for yourself but also for them.

As you looked into Jungkook’s hopeful eyes, you felt deep regret, not for the moments you had shared, but for the ones that never were and would never be. You realized you had been clinging to the hope that may never come. You knew in your heart that it was time to let go and move forward.

With a deep breath, you broke the silence. ‘Jungkook,’ you began, your voice steady, ‘I think it’s best if we don’t…’ Your words trailed off, but you hoped your message was clear.

Lost in your thoughts, you continued to meet your friends, the weight of shutting out someone who hurt you in the past, heavy on your shoulders. As you sat down to dinner, the events of the evening played over and over in your mind, leaving you drained of emotion.

Later that evening, after that particularly confusing and unplanned encounter with Jungkook, you found yourself sitting on the balcony of your apartment, staring out at the city lights. The soothing sound of one of your jazz playlists playing in the background served as a backdrop to your contemplation.

Just then, your phone buzzed, and it was Namjoon. He had sent you a text that read, “I don’t want to be the cause of your pain, but I can’t help how I feel. It’s complicated, I know. Just know that I’m here for you, no matter what you want to do.”

His message struck a chord deep within you. You realized that Namjoon carved himself a special place in your heart, and it was time to tell him your choice.

With Namjoon, you felt a different kind of connection. His understanding and acceptance of your complicated situation were comforting. The passion between you was undeniable, but more than that, you felt seen, valued, and respected in a way that you hadn’t with Jungkook.

As dawn breaks, you find yourself comfortably sheltered on your balcony with a steaming cup of coffee in your hands. The richness of its aroma fills your senses, providing a comforting solitude as you are lost in a sea of thoughts that you have been pondering since the early hours. Your surroundings are quiet, the world below still hushed in the early morning slumber.

Suddenly, this serene silence is broken by a familiar voice echoing from below. The unexpected shout of your name startles you, causing you to rise abruptly from your chair, your heart skipping a beat with the suddenness of it. Curiosity instantly piques within you, a compelling urge to discover the source of this voice calling you.

When you leaned over the balcony railing to peer down, much to your surprise and a slight sense of disbelief, you saw Namjoon. There he was, standing on the lonely street beneath your balcony, his posture exuding an aura of determination. The sight of him there, seemingly out of the blue, took you aback. You hadn’t expected to see him, not at this hour, not here.

“Namjoon, what are you doing here?” you managed to ask him, your voice barely a whisper against the morning chill. Your heart was racing, pounding in your chest at the unexpected sight of him. “Come on up!” You invited him in with a giggle, your mind spinning, thinking, oh my god, he’s here. A surge of laughter bubbled within you as you retreated from the balcony, giving him the time to go up to the first floor.

Without uttering a single word in response, Namjoon quickly made his way up the stairs leading to your apartment. As soon as he stepped through the door, his presence filled the room, bringing a sense of warmth and familiarity you hadn’t realized was missing until now.

The silence that had ensued was once again broken by Namjoon’s voice. His voice was softer and gentler this time, but his determination was no less. “I couldn’t stop thinking about you, Y/N,” he confessed, his eyes directly meeting yours in a gaze that held you captive. “I needed to see you, talk to you.”

“You drive me crazy in the best possible way,” Namjoon started. “Every stolen glance, every lingering touch, it’s like electricity coursing through my veins, igniting a fire that I can’t control.”

“From the moment I met you, I’ve been consumed by the thought of you, your touch, your scent, your laughter.” Namjoon continued. “I couldn’t resist your pull on me, drawing me in like a moth.”

“You make me feel alive, Y/N,” Namjoon confessed, his eyes burning with desire. “And I never want to let that go. I want to explore every inch of you, body and soul, to lose myself in the passion we share.”

“I want you to go out for drinks with your friends,” Namjoon expressed, his voice still soft. “So when you feel hungover the next day, you’ll ask me to come see you because you want to have me in your arms and cuddle you.”

“I want us to talk in the mornings, still in bed, about all types of things,” Namjoon continued, a fond smile playing on his lips. “But sometimes in the afternoons, too, I want us to be able to do whatever we want during the day.”

“I want you to tell me about the nights you go out with your friends,” Namjoon confessed, his eyes filled with warmth. “And tell me about the guy at the bar who was trying to flirt with you all night. I want you to text me when you’re drunk with your friends just to tell me dumb things because you want to be sure that I’m also thinking about you.”

“I want us to laugh while we’re making love,” Namjoon declared, full of yearning. “To start laughing because we’re trying something new, and it doesn’t make any sense. I want us to be with our friends so you can take my hand and drag me to the other room because you can’t hold back anymore, and you want us to make love right there. I want to make you try to stay quiet because there are people outside, and they might hear us.”

“I want to eat with you all the time,” Namjoon continued. “And I want you to make me talk about myself and for you to talk about everything that’s on your mind. I want us to discuss which is best, the north coast or the south coast, the west or the east. I want to imagine our dream home, still aware that we might never live together.”

“I want to tell you about my plans, the ones that make no sense whatsoever,” Namjoon confessed, his voice filled with excitement. “I want to surprise you by saying, ‘Take your passport, we’re leaving.’ I want to be afraid with you. Do things I wouldn’t do with anyone else because you make me feel safe. Come back home drunk after a night out with my friends, and for you to take my face in your hands, kiss me, and keep me close to you the whole night.”

“I want you to have your life,” Namjoon continued, his tone sincere. “So you can decide to take a few weeks off to go on a trip just because you want to. So you leave me wishing to see you through FaceTime, but all it makes me do is miss you more.”

“I don’t want us to be joined at the hip all the time,” Namjoon admitted, a smile playing on his lips. “That way, we can hang out the next day. You can tell me about your night, and I can tell you about mine.”

“I want something simple yet complicated,” Namjoon declared, his eyes locking with you. “Something that often makes me question myself, but the moment I’m in the same room with you, all my doubts disappear. I want to tell everyone you’re gorgeous, and I want to be proud to say we’re together. I want to tell you that I love you, and most importantly, I want you to be able to say that you love me, too.”

“I want to make plans with you,” Namjoon continued, his voice filled with hope. “Unaware if we’ll make them come true. I want you to have a relationship where you know where you stand. I want to be someone who you love to be with. I want us to still have the desire to fool around at times because we’re still young.”

“I want to be the one you make love to and then fall asleep with,” Namjoon confessed, his voice barely above a whisper, his hand now caressing your cheek. “The one who gives you your space and loves when you get lost in your playlists. I want to have a single life with you because our relationship would be just like that, but together.”

#bts #bts fanfic #namjoon #kim namjoon #jungkook #jeon jungkook #bts namjoon #bts jungkook #bts smut #bts angst #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts members #bts fic #bts au #namjoon imagine #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon scenarios #namjoon x you #namjoon x y/n #jungkook angst #bts x reader #bts x y/n #bts x you #bts x fem!reader #nswf post #18+ mdni #mdni

[effortandmore]

you, after all | knj x reader (18+)

summary: your break up hadn't been angry or contentious. he wanted to go, you never asked him to stay. it was simple, really. but when namjoon shows back up after three years, things don't seem so simple anymore

pairing: namjoon x f!reader

rating: explicit (18+ please)

genre: exes to lovers, smut, fluff (because of who i am as a person)

warnings: smut, a little swearing, here are the specific smut tags: kissing, penetrative sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, maybe a whisper of a hand job, namjoon has a big dick (i had to)... it's really pretty soft—they're just in love without saying so

word count: 6.8k

a/n: i haven't been able to write the things i need to write (sorry jin and yoongi), so here i am with some namjoon fluff & smut. thank you, as always, to @ugh-yoongi who is helpful and kind with reading these things. apologies for the banner quality; idk how to make it look nice on tumblr. this is posted to ao3 here if you like to read fics there.

There’s this thing about awkward silences—they’re not inherently awkward because of the absence of sound, they’re awkward precisely because you become acutely aware of every little sound around you that isn’t the one you were expecting or wanting to hear. 

The tap of his heel against the floor, muted by the thin cork flooring and then enhanced again by the way the fabric of his jeans whooshes when he jiggles his knee. The almost white-noise din of the other conversations around you, loud enough that you can pick out words but not meaning. The tinkling of silverware and chopsticks on ceramic and glass as people (including you) swallow things they think to say down with some glass noodles or spoonfuls of soup. 

No, you decide. Awkward silences are anything but quiet, they’re terrifyingly fucking loud. 

“So…” you finally start, “are you going to tell me what you’re actually doing here?” 

Namjoon looks up from his food at you as you speak, his eyes wide like they get when he’s been startled out of some (probably depressing) train of thought, eyebrows raised in crescents that sit like shadows above the rim of his glasses. Noodles trail out of his lips and hang there, resting on his chopsticks, waiting for him to act. 

It’s a perfect visual representation of the pause you feel in your whole body waiting for him to respond. Maybe somehow you are like a noodle, you think. 

You try not to laugh at the thought because you know it will send him back into some sort of overthinking spiral of dismal self-worth. You know he’ll think you’re laughing at him. Sometimes, back then, you were. But not usually.

(And he’s not the only one prone to existential crises. 

Perhaps that’s why you two had always gotten on so well. You’ve had plenty of time to think about how the two of you started and stopped, and being aligned in this sort of… well, thoughtfulness is maybe a generous way to put it… being alike in that way a little bit probably drew you together as much as it split you apart. One overthinker is enough for any relationship. Two is… two is probably one too many). 

With a slurp, he sits up and sets his chopsticks down. He’s still regarding you, his eyes haven’t left your face, you’re pretty sure. But now, it’s with the careful consideration he’s known amongst your friends for, not the surprise you clocked on him a moment prior. 

He’s still fidgeting. You can feel the vibrations of his legs when they brush the underside of the table because he’s too tall to keep his limbs to himself and too polite to stretch them out in a violation (would it really be? You’re not sure) of your space. For a moment, you think it’s out of character, and then you start to recall every difficult conversation you’ve ever had with this man in front of you. The way he would twist up his face into a scowl almost involuntarily, the pulling on his hair, the crumpling up of whatever paper was in reach, the peeling of countless labels off of beer bottles… No, you decide, the fidgeting is perfectly in sync with what you know of Kim Namjoon when he thinks he’s going to say something someone doesn’t want to hear (and also when someone’s telling him something he doesn’t). 

If you didn’t know him as well, you’d think he was stalling. Or unsure of himself. And he might be those things to some degree, but this version of him, you’re sure, is trying to figure out how to say what he wants to say in a way that you’ll accept. 

The problem is, you’ve been broken up for almost three years. You’re not sure what he could say that would even affect you like that any more. 

So, this is all a little frightening, this awkward loud silence between the two of you. 

You point the blunt end of a chopstick at him. “Joon, just spit it out. We haven’t seen each other in ages, I don’t want to waste this watching you think.” 

At that, he grins, and at least some of what you loved about him rears its head. He’s gorgeous when he’s happy—it’s contagious, too. His dimples appear, his cheeks push up into his eyes and his lips spread so wide they almost cover the span of his face. He’s really, truly beautiful like this, and when you see it now for a split second, you’re reminded of how much you used to love making him smile, how much pride you took in being the one who could almost always make him laugh. 

“Sorry,” he mutters as his grin turns from bright to sheepish. “You know how I can be.” 

That, you certainly do. 

“Well, you said you wanted to catch up, and we’ve done that, so now are you gonna tell me what you’re doing back here?” 

“I’ve been thinking,” he says, eyes dropping down to his bowl.

“Uh-oh.” You mean it to tease, not to be cruel, but his face falls a little anyway. You suppose it’s two sides of the same coin—being able to make him laugh and having enough influence to disappoint him with your words… they’re essentially the same thing and you know it. “Sorry,” you add, tapping his foot under the table with yours. “I was just teasing… Trying to make this less weird, I guess.” 

“It was never weird with us, was it?” He’s asking you, for what you’re not sure. Reassurance? Absolution? 

“No,” you reply softly. “It was a lot of things with us, but it was never weird.” 

And it wasn’t. Not when you fought about stupid shit late-night in the kitchen of your crappy apartment. Not when he took off to the city to do “big things” after uni and you just sort of… let him go. Not when your friends “didn’t take sides” but took careful measures to not invite you to the same parties, and not when he called you earlier today, totally out of the blue, telling you he was around and he wanted to see you. 

In order, it was frustrating, disappointing, lonely, and surprising, but none of it was weird. Not weird standing in his empty living room, leaning against a stack of his moving boxes and watching him pack the last of his belongings into a duffel. Not weird to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him closer to you as he fucked you into the mattress that last night before he left, whispering that he loved you and needed you. Not weird after, when you spilled tears on his chest and told him you were scared for what life would be like without him while he ran fingertips up and down your spine and reassured you that no matter what, you were going to have an incredible life. 

It wasn’t weird when the next morning, he promised you’d always be friends. 

It wasn’t weird when you both eventually stopped texting. 

It wasn’t weird when he never came back. 

But now he’s here, sitting in front of you in the same grungy noodle shop you used to have your cheap college date nights at, and things are absolutely, inarguably weird. 

Namjoon’s staring at you, still hasn’t answered your question, when the server comes with your check. He snags it before you can argue and gives you a distracted sort-of-grin when he gets up to find the cashier. 

Everything about this is so familiar and different at the same time. In your past life with Namjoon, he’d never just leave the table to pay with noodles left in his bowl, he’d never forget his manners and ignore asking whether or not you were ready to go. But him getting distracted by his own thoughts is on brand… So is the way he knocks over the cashier’s pencil cup when he tries to return the pen he used to sign the receipt. The most familiar thing is the glance he throws your way when he does it, rolling his eyes affectionately when he sees you stifling a laugh. 

It makes your stomach tumble. 

There isn’t a discussion when you leave the noodle shop, thank god. No asking if it’s okay if he walks with you, no awkward first date bullshit. Which of course there isn’t, you remind your nervous system, because this isn’t a date and it’s not a first anything really. First time you’ve seen him in a while maybe, but even that feeling’s been fading since you saw him through the window of the restaurant, sitting alone (waiting for you with his knee bouncing) at your usual table a couple hours prior. 

“Why do you think we call it a pencil cup?” he asks quietly. You can barely hear him over the car that happens to pass as he speaks. 

“Huh?” 

“We always call it a pencil cup, but everyone keeps pens in them, you know?” 

You smile softly in spite of yourself. “I don’t know, Joon-ah.” It’s a nickname you haven’t used or thought of in a long time. It feels too affectionate for what you are to each other now (you feel a little too affectionate toward him for what you are now, so you suppose it fits), but he doesn’t seem to notice, leaving you thankful for the universe’s small favors. “Humans are quirky. Language is worse,” you finish. 

He hums in response. “You’re right. You’re always right,” he agrees. 

Suddenly he stills, footsteps halting as he grabs your hand. The surprise you feel absolutely accounts (you hope) for the stupid swoop of your stomach; not the first one you’ve felt since the sun went down. “Can we?” he says, tugging on your hand like a ridiculously strong kid. 

It takes a second for you to realize what he means, but when you do, you readily agree. “Of course we can.” You move first, pulling him behind you, and it’s not lost on you when you look over your shoulder that he looks happier than you think you’ve seen him maybe ever, and that you’re still holding hands. 

You hop up onto the metal platform, letting him go, and he grabs one of the bars and starts to pull it behind him as he jogs. Your world literally spins. Arms out, you tilt your head back and puff out a long breath. It’s cold enough that you can see the smoky trail of it float above you, tendrils of steam looking like they’re curling around the stars. 

With a thud, Namjoon lands across from you on the merry-go-round, sitting to face you, legs sprawled out in front of him. You sit, too, and the metal wheel spins a little more slowly with each revolution until it’s barely moving millimeters, all of the momentum from Namjoon’s effort petering out. 

It’s weird, you think, that staring at him across from you, it still feels like the ground is moving. 

“I left.” He breaks the silence with a simple statement and you’re not sure what he expects you to say in return, so you just nod. “But I don’t know why you let me.” 

He doesn’t look at you when he says the last part, his head tilts off to the side and he leans it against one of the cold, metal railings. If he was anyone else, you’d think he hadn’t meant to say it out loud. But you know him, and you know he rarely says things he doesn’t mean. 

The first response in your chest feels like anger. He left you after all. He walked away. Of course you let him, what the fuck else were you supposed to do? Beg him to stay? You were basically kids. You still are. He had opportunities, you had a sick mom… it wouldn’t have been fair to ask him to stay. 

And then there was this: the insecure part of you didn’t want to give him the opportunity to tell you he couldn’t. Wouldn’t. That you weren’t worth it. 

Maybe you should have taken that chance. You’ve learned a lot since then. Grown up and gotten more confident, surely. Made new friends, had other partners. “Lovers,” as Taehyung likes to call them (just to see you roll your eyes at him in response). 

He keeps talking before you can let the angry thoughts have a voice. “I love being here,” he says softly, still not looking at you. “I love how you can see the stars, I love that the air smells better. I love the sea and the way it makes you feel small…” he sighs before he continues, “but I’ve been back for a week and I didn’t love any of it as much as I love this right now.” His voice gets quieter with each word. You barely hear him tack on, “with you.” You might even be imagining it, he’s that quiet. 

It almost makes you sick to not know what he’s getting at, to wish he would just be straight with you. All of this nostalgia… what amounts to a recreation of all your college dates… It’s just so much. 

“Are you pregnant?” 

“What?” Namjoon’s eyes look like they’re about to pop out of his skull. 

You let yourself laugh when you respond. “I don’t know! This just feels like the lead up to something big, you know? You’re pregnant, you have cancer, you’re moving to another country…” You trail off and then sit up straight, letting yourself get a little more serious. “What’s all this about? It feels like you have big news or… to be honest, it kind of feels like a date, Joon-ah.” 

“Feels like a date good or feels like a date bad?” he asks. 

“Feels like a date confusing,” you answer pointedly. “I don’t even know what you’re doing in town.” 

“Can I walk you home?” 

“That’s not an answer.” 

He stands then, and reaches a hand out to you to help you up. You let him even though you don’t need it, and he pulls you into a hug. Tight against his chest, things feel a little less confusing and this seaside town feels a little more like home than it has in a really long time. It’s distressing how right it feels to be close to him like this, how he smells just like he always has, how soft his stupid sweater is under your cheek. You do everything you can not to nuzzle against him in a complete violation of any boundaries that both of you might have. It’s all you want to do though, and that’s disconcerting in and of itself.

“Yeah,” you mumble into his collar. “You can walk me home.” 

You give him some grace as you walk, not repeating yourself for the millionth time with your request to know just exactly what he thinks he’s doing crashing back into your life with a half day’s notice. Then it occurs to you that he’s leading you home, which is fine except… you’re not sure how he seems to know where you live. 

“Joon? How do you know where we’re going?”

“Huh?” He gives you a distracted glance like he didn’t quite intake your question.

“My apartment, how do you know where it is?”

“Oh…” His cheeks flush the prettiest rose color. “Ah… you were at that art show in the city a few nights ago, right when I got to town, and Tae invited everyone over. We’d been drinking and the bar was closing and he said you wouldn’t be there…” He gives you a pained sort of smile. “He said you wouldn’t mind. Said you’d be staying with friends.” 

The idea that your ex was in your apartment without you knowing it is… well, it should be infuriating. But it’s not. It’s more like you want to know what he thought, if he liked it. If it felt like the you that he knew or a new version of you. If it felt familiar and different at the same time the way he does to you right now. 

“So… you’ve been in our apartment then…” It’s not a question, but Namjoon answers anyway, rushing the words out. 

“No! No.” He shakes his head. “I couldn’t do it. We got there and I… It felt like sneaking around and I couldn’t do that to you. I went back to Hoseok’s and crashed on his couch.” 

“Oh… okay.” You can’t figure out why you’re almost disappointed. “You can see it now. If you want. If that’s something you’d be interested in, you know…” The words spill out in a rambly jumble. 

Namjoon stops to consider you, head tilted like he’s trying to listen to words you’re not saying. He must find whatever he’s looking for, because he responds quickly. “Yeah, okay. I’d like that.” 

“Okay.” You nod but don’t move. 

“This is it, right?” 

And it is, indeed. You’re standing in the middle of the sidewalk in front of your own building, too distracted by whatever this thing is with the two of you to notice where you are. 

“Yeah, yeah. Come on up.” You punch the door code in and hold the door for him, bowing a little and giving an exaggerated gesture for him to enter to lighten the mood. 

Taehyung, the world's most interesting roommate, is working an overnight shift, so you know he’s not home, but you pray he hasn’t left anything strange out in the living room. You’ve walked into your apartment to find it perfectly spotless except for a trumpet and a dildo sitting side-by-side on the coffee table before, and though you’ve never really discussed it for obvious reasons, you’re fairly confident it won’t happen again. But not one hundred percent. 

“Tae’s working tonight,” you explain for some unknown reason as you unlock your door. It’s not like Namjoon is some third date here to fuck you for the first time, so it doesn’t matter if Tae’s there or not and he probably knows your roommate (his friend, too) is working, anyway. 

“I heard,” he mumbles behind you. 

To your extraordinary relief, nothing odd or personal is strewn around the living room or the kitchen, so you say a silent prayer of gratitude and slide your shoes off, motioning for Namjoon to do the same. 

“This is it,” you say, in your most uncreative moment of the night. “It’s nicer than the last place you saw me living,” you joke. It is, though. Much nicer. Having Tae to split the costs helps, and your art has actually been selling for the past couple of years, so that’s afforded you a little more than the old studio with a leaky shower and what was probably mold around the windows. 

“Mmm,” he murmurs as he looks around the open space. “It was nice ‘cos it was yours. It felt like you. But this does, too.”

“Water?” you offer. 

“Sure, thanks.” 

You fill up two glasses from the pitcher in the fridge and pad back into the living room where Namjoon is looking at the art on one of your walls. It’s a combination of your paintings and Tae’s photographs that the two of you thought complemented one another. 

“Your art.” 

“Yes…?”

“No…” Joon shakes his head and sets his water down on your coffee table. “Your art. It’s why I came back. That's why I’m here.” 

“Oh,” you squeak. It’s not what you expected—you didn’t expect an answer to your question, and even if you’d hypothetically received one, ‘your art’ wasn’t what you’d thought it would be. “I don’t think I understand. You want to buy one or something? You can just have a painting, Joon-ah... Friends and family discount. You didn’t have to come here for that.” 

He frowns and shakes his head again before he carefully takes your water glass and sets it on the table next to his. Then he reaches for your hand, and when you offer it to him, he guides you to your own sofa to sit. 

This time, sitting too close like you were in the noodle shop, you’re the one who’s nervous. Something’s up with him, and you’re not connecting the dots. 

“I saw your show. The solo one. Congratulations,” he says. His smile is warm like his hand that’s still wrapped around yours and it feels like you could maybe let your nerves settle a little bit. 

“Thanks. It was a lot of work, but worth it. I’m still a little surprised at how well it was received.” 

“I’m not.” He says it with conviction, and you love it. The hint of praise laced with his belief in you has always been a driver of your confidence; you don’t love that you need the external validation, but it’s nice, regardless.

“It reminded me of home,” he continues. “Made me sick for it. Like I couldn’t stand to be away from it for another minute. So, I told my work I needed some time off, and I came home.” 

“Oh… Okay. Well, I’m glad you felt something… I hope being home has been what you wanted.” 

“You don’t get it,” he says, frustrated. “I haven’t been home, not really. Not until tonight.” 

“Joon-ah…” 

“Please? Can I get this out?” 

And there are so many things to feel, you’re not even sure where to begin, so you just listen. It’s not easy to ignore the feeling of being on edge, the idea that you think you know where he’s headed with this. Since you’ve never even let yourself consider it (you’ve really not let yourself think about him much since he left. Certainly not recently), you have no idea what to think. So you focus on him instead; the tendons that run from his hands up his forearms that you used to love to trace with your fingertips, the way he’s filled out some since you last saw him—his chest and shoulders are broader, his jeans hug his thighs tighter than you remember… He looks good. Great, even. Everything you remember but a little bit more. Like he’s become the person he was always meant to be.

“I’ve dated a lot of people since I left,” he starts. And maybe this isn’t going where you thought it was. You scoff involuntarily, and he rolls his eyes at you. “Can you just listen to me?” he asks. 

You nod. “Sorry.” 

“Not at first. I missed you. I couldn’t figure out why you never… I don’t know… Tried to talk me out of it, never asked me to stay. I thought it meant that maybe you didn’t love me the way I loved you. After a while, a few months maybe, Yoongi told me I was depressing to be around, that I should try and make friends, meet people. He reminded me that I was the one who left, not you. And he was right.”

“I remember,” you say. It comes out a little harsher than you’d intended, but maybe not ever letting yourself think too much about him (especially about him leaving) has left you with some unresolved feelings you weren’t totally aware of. Namjoon’s jaw tightens, but other than that, he doesn’t react. Maybe he knows he deserves you being a little upset. Things ended oddly fine between the two of you, it was amicable, but if you’d let yourself feel everything back then, it might not have been that way. 

“I’m sorry,” he says, voice softer now. “I needed to go, though. You know I did.” He looks at you, waiting for you to give him some reassurance you think, so you squeeze his hand. 

“Yeah, you did, Joon-ah. It’s okay.” 

His fingertips trace patterns across your wrist and you can almost feel his body get looser when you give the small peace offering. “So,” he says, “I tried. I met people, I dated people, I moved to new apartments with new roommates to new parts of the city. I tried to get that feeling back. Not to… I don’t know. Not to replace you, but to feel like I was home. But nothing worked. Nobody worked. And then I saw your show.” 

“Oh…” It’s not much, but it’s the only thing you can think to say as he pulls you closer to him on the couch and runs a thumb across your cheekbone. It’s so much, it’s such a private thing for him to touch you like you're something breakable. Like you’re his, still. It’s making you short-circuit. 

“Home,” he says in a whisper. “I needed to come home.” 

“Home.” You repeat it like he’s taken all the words you used to know and pulled them out of your head to scatter on the floor in a mess. 

His lips are on yours before you have time to process, and you hear a whimper that you quickly realize must have come from your own throat as he kisses you more tentatively than you ever remember him kissing you before. You know this is him testing the waters, giving you time to decide if you want this—sort of—and maybe this is a one-night nostalgia thing for him, or maybe this is what forgiveness tastes like, and maybe it’s a terrible idea, but Namjoon’s lips on yours feel like home to you, too, and you don’t want to talk yourself out of something that feels so fucking right. You didn’t even let yourself remember that you missed him until now, and your chest aches with something like longing even though he’s here, he’s real, he’s kissing you. 

Kiss back, you remember suddenly. So you do. A slightly shaking hand moves to his thigh as you let him slip his tongue between your lips and lick into your mouth slowly. He’s firmer than you remember when you squeeze over his jeans and tilt your head to give him a little bit better access. The kiss, which started out so sweet, soon turns into something else entirely, and before you know it, you’re out of breath and letting out another whine when his hand drops from your cheek to around your waist and he tugs you even closer to him. You can feel him smile against your mouth when you pause to breathe.  

“Is this okay?” he asks, cheeks flushed, dimples out, and hair mussed. He looks like a dream. 

He looks like he’s yours again, and you want to let yourself have this, even if it’s temporary. 

“Yeah.” You nod too furiously to even look remotely cool or in control of the situation, and he laughs. It’s not like he looks much better off with his swollen lips and the stars in his eyes. “Bedroom.” You’re up and pulling him up with you before he can argue, practically dragging him behind you past Tae’s room and the bathroom to yours at the end of the hall. 

You move into your room and barely get the door closed before you’re being pushed back up against it, Namjoon moving his mouth down your neck, over your pulse point– all his attention focused on seeing what might make you shiver and whine. So much hasn’t changed. 

It’s odd, you think, as he finds the perfect spot, to have to learn this all over with someone. Does he remember all your places and all the things you like? Will he still be patient like he used to be, content to watch you get worked up because of his touch before he lets you focus on him? Will he have new things that make him moan, are there new things he likes that he learned from someone else? All these questions float through your head as Namjoon slowly slips his hands under your shirt and pulls it over your head. 

With your back against the wall, Namjoon drops to his knees in front of you and carefully unbuttons your jeans, slipping them down your legs with your underwear, groaning and face flushing when he finally gets you undressed. 

“You… are… incredible,” he mutters against your skin in between leaving hot, wet kisses across your pelvic bone. “I’ve missed you so much,” he adds as he hooks one of your legs and rests it on his shoulder. His breath is hot on your skin and it’s like you can feel it everywhere—he’s barely even touching you and every nerve ending in your body is responding, wanting more. 

As he brings his tongue to your clit, you let your head fall back against the door with a soft thud. He was always so good at this, he still is. His stubble brushes against you and makes shivers run up your spine. He’d probably not shaved that morning—you wonder if he did on purpose, remembering how you used to brush your cheek along his chin and tell him you liked it, how it made you feel soft and delicate when he wasn’t. 

His tongue works you over in long strokes, dipping inside on occasion and you hear him practically whine when he really tastes you. There’s never been anything hotter, you decide, than his deep voice so fucked out and turned on because of you. If you could get off on sound alone for the rest of your life, that might be the one you’d pick.  

When he finally slides a finger inside you, you moan—you’re so much louder than you’d meant to be, louder than you have been for anyone in so long, but he knows you. Knows your body, knows just how fast to move his tongue, how deeply you like to feel him inside you.

Namjoon’s lips form into a smile against you as he pauses, asking in a whisper, “Can I make you do that again?” before curling his finger inside you and taking your clit back between his lips. 

“Oh, fuck…” you whine. And yes, the answer is definitely yes. “Keep going,” you say as he fucks into you, giving you space to roll your hips away from the door and into his face. 

It doesn’t take much longer for you to come—Namjoon puts a large hand to your waist and helps support you as you tremble around him and your knee buckles. With a lot of effort, you ignore the quiet, private voice in the back of your mind that tells you that you don’t deserve this—that you shouldn’t be doing this, that you’ll get hurt again. Finally, your shaking subsides, and he moves your leg off of his shoulder and to the ground, keeping a grasp on you to help you stay upright. 

“You’re… still very good at that,” you say breathily. 

“Thank you. I’m pretty good at a lot of things, I think,” he says with a wink as he stands. 

You love when he’s cheeky like this, confident in a way that you remember being one of his best traits. Like he knows exactly what he’s capable of. It’s the first time you’ve seen him like this tonight and it makes you ache for things you don’t think you can have, for the past. He’s suddenly close again, so fucking close, and you can smell yourself on his lips and you can feel that he’s hard in his jeans. He leans in, even closer, bringing his lips to yours but not doing anything with them, and running a single fingertip across your jaw to hold your face in place—no place to look except at him, square in the eyes.

“Are there things you’re still good at?” 

Oh, holy shit. 

And you’d remained upright this whole time, but fuck if your knees aren’t ready to give in now. You swallow audibly and struggle to form an answer in your post-orgasmic haze, turned on by the nostalgia and the way he’s half-whispering, half-rasping. The intimate way he speaks to you  makes you almost drip again with desire.

“Well, if you’re not going to tell me, I guess I’ll find out for myself,” he says. Namjoon grabs your hand and squeezes, then leads you to your own bed. “Do you want me to find out? Do you want… me?” 

It should be something you have to think about longer, should be more of a consideration. But it isn’t at all. Your head is bobbing a ‘yes’ of its own accord and you’re slowly unbuttoning his jeans and pulling his sweater off before you really realize you’re doing it, before you can think about what it might mean in the morning. Before he slips out of his pants, he pulls a condom out of his wallet in the pocket and tosses it on the bed. 

The simple action has you a little nervous now, like suddenly this is real, and this is Namjoon, the actual love of your fucking life who left you, and he must see it on your face as you stand next to the bed, naked, facing one another, and unmoving. 

“Are you alright?” he asks.

“Yeah… I’m nervous. It’s been so long and it’s… you.”

Namjoon cups your cheek and brings his lips softly to yours. His other arm snakes around your waist and pulls your body into his—skin to skin everywhere, and it feels so good. His body really is different than you remember: firmer, broader, bigger, and you like it. It’s different, but just as good, you decide. Familiar and different at the same time, just like everything else about him. When he breaks the kiss, he finally speaks.

“We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.” 

“I do,” you say resolutely, convincing him and yourself at the same time. You bend over to grab the condom and feel his hands on your ass, so you stay, dropping to your elbows on the mattress, remembering how he’s always appreciated the view from that angle. “Do you still like it this way, Joon-ah?” you ask as you push your hips back toward him a little, leaning into the familiar to calm any lingering nerves.

And instead of answering, Namjoon slides his hands up your back and down your arms, pulling you up at the elbows and pressing your back into his chest. “Yes,” he replies. “But not this time. I want to see you, I want to know I’m taking care of you. I want to remember.” 

He starts kissing you then, lips on your neck, across your shoulders, hands wrapped around you—one teasing at your nipples, one firm around your waist. You do feel taken care of, and it’s nice, you decide, to be with him again. This part hasn’t changed. You meant what you said—he’s really good at this.

Eventually, you move to the bed, and you become a little more brave, letting yourself explore his body. As you lay facing each other, you run your fingers along the ridges of the muscles in his abdomen, stroke his cheekbones, let one arm snake around his ribs and then fall to his ass. He really is firm all over, and you find yourself more attracted to that than you’d anticipated. You murmur appreciations into his skin, telling him he’s worked hard, that he looks incredible, that you want to take your time and appreciate everything he’s tried to build. 

Namjoon watches you as you test the waters, carefully mapping the ridges and planes until you take his length in your palm and start stroking him. The first time he breaks eye contact with you is when you bring your other hand down and palm his balls, softly squeezing as his eyes roll back in his head and he lets out a long, low moan. 

Maybe things aren’t so different than you remember, after all. 

You touch and kiss and whisper until you know he’s been hard long enough and you’ve been stalling long enough, and his hand makes lazy circles over your clit, no problem getting you wet again. Namjoon rolls the condom on and pulls your leg up over his hip. He’s careful in a manner that’s completely him (but you’re no longer used to from your recent hookups) as he slowly pushes into you. And you’ve been in a lot of… positions in the last few years, but nothing quite this intimate: chests pressed together, arms wrapped around each other, noses touching, and Namjoon so deep inside you, moving so, so slowly. You’re almost not moving at all, and you had no idea something like that could feel so fucking good. 

It’s slow and sweet, and he kisses and caresses you, and you realize that this is was what people are talking about when they talk about the difference between making love and fucking. 

Namjoon is quiet, quieter than you remember, but the look on his face is reverent, like he can’t believe you’re letting him do this, like he can’t believe you’re real. And you know how he feels, and you want to reassure him and whisper how much you care about him and how you think you could still love him, but it’s all too much for the moment. So, instead, you just let out soft moans of approval when he rolls his hips in just the right way and otherwise try to focus on him and the way he’s making you feel, cock buried in you, better than anything has been since the night before he left all those years ago.

Your second peak comes steadily and seems to last a while as Namjoon whispers how beautiful you look and how lucky he is. The praise has you clenching around him and pulling his climax out of him, too. 

You stay intertwined as your breathing slows, kissing and smiling with pink cheeks and tired limbs. When you’re sure you can move, you slowly push back from him and roll off the side of the bed, grabbing his undershirt. “You mind?” you ask, holding it up. “I thought I’d grab water and if there’s anything else you want…” 

“Sounds great,” Namjoon replies, a sleepy smile on his face, obvious in his preening over you wearing his clothes again. 

You try not to let yourself think too much about what just happened as you retrieve your water glasses and fill them up again. You find your phone on the counter, next to Namjoon’s, and you shoot a quick text to Tae telling him you brought someone home and you don’t know if they’ll still be there in the morning. You don’t want your roommate to be surprised by a visitor. But you know if Namjoon’s still there when he gets home, Tae will definitely be surprised. 

When you pad back to your bedroom and click the door shut behind you, you realize Namjoon’s already fallen asleep, snoring softly. He looks ridiculous on top of your sheet with the duvet kicked down to the end of the bed, his big cock soft against his big thigh and his hair sticking up in fifty different directions all over your pillow. His lips have fallen open to let his stupid snores out, and you have never been more endeared to anyone in your life. 

Like a thunderbolt, it comes suddenly, the realization that you think you probably never stopped loving this man. 

You set the water down on your nightstand and crawl into bed next to him, careful not to wake him up, even though unless something’s changed, you know he’s a fairly deep sleeper. You pull the duvet up over both of you and settle into your pillow, thoughts of unresolved and maybe unrequited feelings still clouding your mind. 

He wakes up enough to roll over and sling an arm around you, possessive in a way you like. You miss being his, you miss the quiet way he loved you before. All folded up love notes and kind gestures and small gifts for no reason. You almost let yourself tear up thinking about how big your love for him used to feel—maybe still does. 

You’re fully spiraling, deciding this was probably a massive mistake, when Namjoon strokes his thumb over your stomach and nuzzles into the back of your neck. 

“Baby? You awake?” he mumbles, half-asleep. 

And fuck, you’ve missed the casual endearment from him. “Yeah.” 

“Do you want me to go?” he asks. 

And you know three years ago, if you would have said it, it wouldn’t have mattered. That’s the real truth of it. Because if you’d asked him to stay then, he wouldn’t have, and he would have been making the right choice to leave, anyway. So letting him go without putting up a fight was easier on both of you. It was the right decision then to not ask him to stay. 

But now? Now, after tonight, you know things aren’t the same as back then. Some of them, yes. But not the ones that matter, not the ones you’re thinking about when you reply. 

“No, Joon-ah… I want you to stay this time.”

You feel him smile against your shoulder and pull you tighter into him. Neither of you says anything more, and it’s only a few minutes before he starts his snuffling snores into your hair again. It feels nice, you think as you finally start to drift off. It feels like home.  

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