#namjoon oneshot | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

borathae · 8 months

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“Namjoon wants to be pegged. This is a confession you never thought your devilishly handsome boyfriend to make and yet here you are, with Namjoon moaning underneath you as your strap reshapes his insides.”

~ Requested by 🧈anon ~

Pairing: Namjoon x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Smut

Warnings: sub!Namjoon, Dom!Reader, a lil bit of fumbling in the shower, where he also pretends to be a Dom, he calls her “bad girl” in a playful manner, but then he turns into a subby messy ufkcdkf, she calls him "puppy", first time pegging, he’s on his back during foreplay but gets fucked in doggy, buttplugs, dirty talk, cockwarming to mess him up <3, edging, cumming untouched, so much cum, strength & size kink (i made him taller than her because joon is so nfng perfect for size kinks where HE is the subby mess), the foreplay hits so fucking hard, male masturbation with a showerhead, handjob from behind, anal fingering, she prepares his hole until he can take the plug, then edges him and uses an even bigger plug, besties we’re going down together, subby boys tears, Joonie being so vocal, cuddly aftercare, they're in love <3

Wordcount: 7.4k

a/n: HBD Joon, you big beefy teddy bear <3 this was also requested but I lost the ask :( thankfully i safe all my requests in a word doc. also, butter anonie where are you? i miss you :( hehe have fun besties, this is very horny 🖤

Your boyfriend is normally a very open and communicative person. It’s the reason why you guys never fight. Stuff gets talked about before it can manifest into resentments. So his recent behaviour has been worrying to say the very least.

Namjoon came home from work very quiet last night. He treated you normally, chatted with you about his day and cuddled you to sleep, but it was so obvious to you that something was weighing down his heart. So this morning you asked him if something was bothering him to which he merely shook his head and then said that work has just been stressful lately. You believed him, but somehow you also didn’t believe him. It was a Saturday today and Namjoon spends most of his Saturdays reading on the balcony or taking his bike for a drive along the Han River. This Saturday however he was holed up in his office for most of the day, only coming out for lunch in your favourite restaurant and later when he left for the gym. He acted normal and was terribly sweet, but you still got a feeling that something was occupying his mind.

Namjoon has been at the gym for about an hour now. Given how it takes him around half an hour to drive to it, you know that he won’t be home for at least another hour. You are just about to leave for your own gym session and are on your way to the kitchen for a pre-workout snack when his office calls out to you. He left the door open. You normally don’t snoop around each other’s stuff. It’s rude and an invasion of privacy, but today you can’t help it. You tiptoe into his office, acting as if you were merely checking if he closed the windows before leaving for the gym when in reality you were sneaking glances at his desk.

He was just acting too out of character lately and you have to figure out what was going on with him. He left his laptop on. You halt. This feels so wrong to do. You hover your hand over the mouse and click.

“Oh”, you gasp, flinching back.

A window popped up.

His internet browser with multiple tabs open.

“Shit, this is so wrong”, you say and try to look away. You really wanted to look away, but then one of the windows piqued your interest. The headline was cut off, all it read was: Better Relationship.

You furrow your brows. Why does he need to read stuff about better relationships? Your stomach tightens. Were you fears correct? Is he silent quitting on you? Is that it?

With a racing heart, you click on the article, having to read as far as the full header to realise that this wasn’t a break-up tutorial article but an article about sex.

Better Relationship? Try Pegging.

The headline reads. Whoever wrote it was terribly uncreative, but at least it gets the message across.

Try pegging. You heard about this kink, but never dug deeper. Why is Namjoon reading articles about it? You click out of the article in favour of skimming through the other pages he left open. They were about pegging. All of them.

“What the hell?” you murmur, reading through them with a confused mind, “why is he reading about all of this?”

You exit another article and click on the last link he left open without looking at the icon.

“Ah!” you yelp, startling when you are greeted with a detailed shot of a man getting fucked in the ass. You check the link, “porn”, you press out, “Namjoon, you dirty-minded idiot why are you looking up porn…okay damn, wait”, you stop talking as you watch the purple dildo disappear inside the man’s ass over and over again. This is actually hot. He is moaning so much and seems to take it so easily. You gulp, shifting from one foot to the other. Damn…

You don’t even realise that you finish the porn video until the “watch next” logo pops up. It rips you out of your trance and you scramble anxiously to stop autoplay from happening. You refresh the page and stop the video, closing the internet browser afterwards. You just snooped in your boyfriend’s laptop and watched his porn videos. You feel so dirty right now and so wrong.

“I gotta go for a run”, you get out and flee the scene of your crime.

Namjoon still isn’t home when you return from the gym. You have been out for an hour and a half, running to your gym and working out especially hard. You just couldn’t get what you learned about out of your head, trying to make sense of it. The porn video, all those articles, the tutorials on how to engage in the kink safely. They don’t leave your mind and almost drive you crazy.

You go straight for the shower in an attempt to wash off the hard workout and somehow calm down your mind. He still isn’t home, which makes you worry on top of all the other overthinking you have been doing.

You are in the middle of letting the water run down your face when you feel the presence of someone behind you. You open your eyes and turn, coming face to face with Namjoon’s huge tits. They are clearly tense and swollen from working them out. You dare to glance down his body. His tummy is tense as well and from your current angle, his thighs look huge. You try not to let your gaze linger on his cock, but it’s tempting you like crazy today. You blame the secret you uncovered. You gulp your nervousness away and lift your head, meeting his eyes.

“Did I startle you?” he asks.

“Yeah, a little”, you answer him.

“Sorry, I knocked and called your name but I think the water drowned out my voice.”

“Yeah it did. I didn’t hear you come in.”

“Sorry. Can I join you in the shower?” he asks.

“You’re already in here, aren’t you?”

He laughs, you laugh with him.

“Yeah right”, he says and runs his eyes down your body. He meets your gaze after a moment, “can I touch you?”

“Yes.”

Namjoon takes your consent and steps closer, placing his big hand on the small of your back as he leans down for a kiss. You get on your tiptoes, hooking your arms behind his head to pull him closer. He lets it happen with a deep chuckle, stumbling into you until your bodies are flush together and the water has to work around you to get to the ground.

He breaks the kiss too soon for your taste, gasping for air. His eyes gleam in amusement, but also showcase that he was surprised by your raunchy kiss.

“I didn’t expect that”, he confesses.

“Yeah uhm”, you clear your throat, sliding your arms from him, “I thought about you today”, you confess and lower your head. You feel nervous because you are going to confess your sins to him. You can’t bear to keep something like this from him. Especially because curiosity as to why he is researching all of this is turning you crazy.

“I thought about you too, baby”, he says and leans down to place kisses on your neck while his hands explore your lower torso gently. They are slightly calloused because he has been working out especially hard lately and you love that feeling. His touch is gentle and soft while his palms are so rough. You tingle like crazy because of it, tingling even harder today because you want him.

“Your heart’s racing like crazy”, he purrs against your neck, sliding his hands to your ass to caress it mindlessly, “what’s the matter?”

“Namjoon baby, I did something really bad today.”

“Mhhm you did?” he lulls and smirks, “you’ve been a bad girl is that it?”

“No, I actually did something bad.”

“Mhm I’m sure you did”, he rasps, giving your buttocks a soft squeeze, “bad, bad girl.”

“Namjoon, I looked through your laptop!” you blurt out.

He just kind of stills. His lips are pressed to your neck but don’t move, his hands stopped feeling you up and he is dead-silent.

“I’m sorry”, you say honestly.

Namjoon lifts his head, showing you the utter panic on his face. This was not the expression you figured him to have. You furrow your brows and touch his chest.

“Are you okay?” you ask him.

“Did”, he whispers, clears his throat, “what did you see?”

“Everything”, you confess quietly.

“Everything?”

You nod your head.

“Did you….did you open the browser?”

“Yeah, I did”, your eyes meet, “I’m sorry.”

He stays silent, staring at you. It makes you nervous.

“Say something please”, you whisper.

“Why would you do that?” he whines, “that’s my privacy and you invaded it.”

“I know and I feel terrible. I’m so sorry for doing something so shitty.”

“If you knew that it was bad why did you do it in the first place?” he throws back, furrowing his brows.

“Because I was scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“That you’re silent quitting on me.”

“Huh?” he widens his eyes.

“You’ve been acting so weird since yesterday and today you spent all day in the office and, and then I was checking to see if you closed the windows and your laptop was on and I just…got scared and had to check for myself and at first I didn’t want to do it, but then I saw the headline Better Relationship and I thought you were reading break up tutorials, but then it was stuff about pegging??”

Namjoon’s cheeks gain in colour at the mention of it.

“And then I couldn’t stop reading and I kept reading all the other stuff and, and then I clicked on the porn.”

“Oh my god”, he gets out, covering his own eyes, “please tell me that you didn’t watch it.”

“I did.”

“God”, he groans, taking a step back, “this is so embarrassing. You were never supposed to see that. You probably think that I’m such a freak now.”

“Huh?” you furrow your brows in confusion, “no…I don’t actually.”

“Really?” he gasps, looking at you. He steps closer, grasping your lower arms, “what do you think of it then? Did you also like it?”

“Also?”

He nods his head, “it’s hot, isn’t it?”

“Wait”, you say, holding his hands, “are you telling me that you looked all of that up because you think it’s hot?”

Namjoon hesitates, “you don’t think it’s hot, do you?” he asks, looking sad.

“I mean…I’m confused that’s all. Have you always been into it?”

“No”, he mumbles, lowering his eyes shyly, “no, just…Jimin talked about it to Tae in the office yesterday and I asked him about it. Apparently his wife pegs him?” he says and lets out a breathy laugh, “and then I asked what it was and if it was nice for guys and apparently it’s really nice?” another breathy laugh and his hands squeezing yours excitedly, “and then I couldn’t stop thinking about it and I started my research and yeah…” he lowers his head, “I think I’m into it.”

“You are?”

He nods his head, “I wanted to talk to you about it, but I still hadn’t decided on whether I liked it or not, so I hesitated. And I didn’t want to weird you out with it on top of that. Sorry, I was nervous.”

“Don’t apologise. I feel awful, I’m sorry for forcing this out of you.”

“No, you didn’t”, he shakes his head, “I’m actually relieved that you found out about it. It saved me the most awkward fucking confession ever.”

“Yeah”, you laugh, “at least one of us gotta do the awkward confession.”

Namjoon laughs, nodding his head. Your eyes meet. The secret seemed to have brought you even closer together. You and he seek each other, your hands touch the other yearningly.

“What do you think of it?” Namjoon asks.

“The porn was really hot and I also thought that the articles made it sound really fun.”

“Really? Oh”, he lets out the shakiest breath you have ever heard from him. Even his knees did a little wobble. His reaction made your tummy tense in excitement. He was really hot right now, “w-would you wanna try it with me?” he asks in a trembling voice.

If he is already that hot at the mere thought of doing it with you, then how hot would he be if you were actually doing it? You feel insanely attracted to him right now, dying for the idea of doing it with him.

“Yeah”, you say, nodding your head.

“Oh god”, he presses out and whimpers. This man actually whimpers. He stumbles back and forth as his knees give up on him for a second, his hands tug you snug against him while his face hides away in the crook of your neck, “I’m so happy”, he gets out, breathing shakily afterwards, “holy fuck, thank you.”

“You’re really hot right now.”

“I’m excited”, he says and exhales in a tremble, “fuck, I can’t get my cock down. Sorry”, he says and laughs.

“You are so hot, damn”, you say and twist your fingers in his hair to tug his head away from your neck.

He lets you handle him this way with a soft moan slipping past his lips. Despite the height difference, he looks tiny right now. All the muscles and size in the world won’t be able to hide how utterly at your mercy he feels right now.

“Do you wanna do it tonight?”

“Yeah, yeah can we do it soon? Maybe even before dinner?”

“I would be down. But wait, we don’t own a strap.”

“I bought one.”

“You did what?”

“I bought toys. Buttplugs and lube and a strap”, he confesses, “that’s why I was late.”

“You really want this, don’t you?”

He nods his head, “I can’t get my cock down. I had to be so careful in the gym not to get hard.”

You eye it. It’s standing against his stomach, looking so flushed and wet. The water from the shower keeps running down his throbbing veins, making him look so goddamn tempting.

“I can see that”, you say, ghosting your fingertips over his tip. He twitches into your touch, throbbing uncontrollably even after you pulled it back.

You and he snicker at the view, exchanging a knowing look.

“Twitchy”, you tease.

“I’m horny”, he confesses.

You chuckle fondly, running your fingertips along his faint ab lines. Your eyes meet. He looks at you with so much submission that it gets hard to function.

“You’re cute”, you say, ending your teasing touch by placing two fingers under his chin and tracing his lower lip, “now. Let’s wash away our workouts and get ready, yeah?”

“Yes Ma’am”, he says, nodding his head obediently, “should I soap your back?”

“That would be lovely, puppy.”

You never witnessed Namjoon this way. He isn’t that out of breath normally, that twitchy and squirmy and that noisy. The shower has been finished and Namjoon already did the preparation to be clean. The sheets are ruffled and slightly damp because neither of you cared to truly dry your hair. You like that feeling. Namjoon looks so fucking good with wet hair, especially when it’s messy. And especially when you are the reason why it is messy.

You are on top of him, keeping him pinned to the mattress with your weight on his cock and your hands holding his arms above his head. He could easily shake you off. He’s so strong and so much taller than you, but you don’t witness any of this strength. He is weak right now. Tiny and fragile and so utterly at your mercy. Namjoon breaks the kiss again, having to fight for air as his lips open and close. They are puffy from all the kissing you did, glistening in the warm lights of the setting sun.

“I’m dizzy, I’m so dizzy”, he confesses, squirming underneath you.

“You’re cute, that’s what you are”, you say and lower your lips to his throat.

“Ah”, he lets out, tilting his head back as best as possible.

You claim his willing submission instantly, exploring his vulnerable throat with purrs of seduction rumbling in your chest. His neck looks so, so empty. You have to change that, mark it as yours and let everyone know who turns this big man into such a whiney mess.

Namjoon arches his back, reaching for you now that your hand stopped pinning him down. His clammy hands grab for your waist and squeeze, dimpling your flesh in the most pleasurable of ways. You aren’t even mad at him for leaving the position. Not when he shows you his desperation in such amazing ways.

“Mhhm Joonie”, you purr, guiding your lips along his jawline.

Namjoon rolls his head to the side and moans, dropping his back into the sheets just so he can arch it again when you begin sucking hickeys next to his pulse point. It feels gentle at first until the pressure under his skin grows and a small stings shoots through him.

“Please”, he gets out, rolling his hips against you.

You are both naked, making a mess between your legs. It’s dripping down his shaft and covers his balls, soaking parts of his pubes as well. He gets so wet for you, contributing to the mess you make as you sit on him to keep him hard.

Cockwarming. You fucking love to do it and today you are doing it with the sole purpose of driving your cute boyfriend to the brink of insanity.

“Holy shit, your pussy”, he gets out and thrusts his hips up a second time. His hands grip your hips, his own chase you in yet another eager thrust.

“Namjoon”, you warn, sitting up and therefore rendering his hips useless (again, he is stronger than you. He willingly gives his strength to you).

“Please”, Namjoon begs, squeezing your hips desperately.

“I told you not to fuck me. Why can’t you listen?” you scold him as your hands run down his sculpted arms. You close your fingers around his wrists and tug his hands away from your hips.

He lets go instantly, allowing you to pin them above his head again. Like this, his sensitive cock shifts inside you, rubbing right against your puffy, wet walls.

Namjoon keens quietly, looking up at you with droopy eyes.

“Mhm? Why can’t you listen?” you ask as you rock your hips back and forth as slowly as possible.

“I’m sorry”, he keens, “I’m sorry, I’m so needy.”

“Of course you are.”

“The buttplug is fucking me”, he confesses and mewls, closing his eyes as his hips squirm under you.

“It is?” you ask, feeling your stomach flutter. This is the hottest confession you ever heard of him. Fuck, this man drives you insane.

He nods his head, squeezing his thighs together as best as possible.

“I’m so stuffed”, he croaks, “fuck, please do something about it.”

“Bratty”, you chuckle, abandoning his wrists to feel down his arms. They are so sculpted and huge and strong, “shit baby, you’re so strong”, you tell him mindlessly, guiding your touches down his chest. You gather his tits and squeeze, digging your thumbs right into where his nipples are. He got so much to grip and play with. Sometimes when he runs and he wears a compression shirt, you can watch his tits bounce. The first time you saw it happening, you might as well have swooned. You drop his tits for the sake of pinching his nipples and tugging on them.

“Ah please”, Namjoon begs, chasing your touch with an arch of his back. He rolls his head to the other side, intertwining his own hands in order not to the leave the position again. His twitchy cock leaks inside you, aching to be bounced on. While your weight and the way his thighs squeeze together, keep forcing the silicon buttplug to shift inside his hole.

You gather his tits again and squeeze them together, massaging his nipples with rough precision. Namjoon clenches around the toy, squirming helplessly while you play his body like an instrument.

Namjoon really liked preparing himself. He read tutorials about how to to do it properly and even watched a video on it, so he wasn’t weird about it. Nervous of course, because he never did anything to his butt before, but not weird. The preparations actually felt really good to him. They excited him. It hurt a little at first because of how tight his little virgin hole was, but then the shaft of the douche slipped in and stretched him out and Namjoon had to sit down on the toilet and do it that way because of how weak-kneed he got.

Cleaning out was easy and strengthened how much he wanted to try pegging tonight. He took a shower afterwards, just in case, and thought about last night.

You and Namjoon rarely take showers together. It’s a privacy thing and also a timing thing. Most of the times, one wants to take a shower while the other is still busy doing something else, of course you don’t want to force each other to shower, that would be ridiculous. Last night, Namjoon also took a shower alone while you were already in bed reading your book. He tried to touch himself last night, starting off by guiding the showerhead over his cock and jerking himself off. But soon his fingers wandered, feeling up his balls first, his inner thighs next until finally landing on his hole. He didn’t do much as he was too scared to go too far. He gave himself a simple massage, tracing himself along his puckered rim while the showerhead pleasured his cock. He did try to apply pressure once, but instantly stopped when it hurt. That was everything he did last night and as Namjoon prepared for the sex tonight, he replayed what happened. It went in so easily with the help of lube. Namjoon had to do everything in his power not to jerk off in the shower again.

After the shower, he asked you to come to the bathroom. You were by his side minutes later, asking him if he was doing alright.

“I cleaned out”, he told you.

“You did? How did it go? Was it weird?”

“No. No it…it made me hard”, he said and showed you his cock.

“Damn Joonie, you are so hard”, you gasped and reached for his hips.

“I know. Holy fuck, I can’t even breathe properly. My head’s a fucking mess.”

“What do I gotta do? I wanna help.”

That was when Namjoon dropped the towel completely and bent over with his elbows leaning against the sink counter, “I need you to put the buttplug in me. Please.”

“Yeah, I’m going to die tonight. I can feel it”, you said and did exactly that.

You followed what he told you to do, smothering the toy and his rim in lube to make it glide in easily. You tried, Namjoon breathed into the stretch and tried to relax but he was just too fucking tight.

“I don’t want to hurt you”, you said.

“You have to get it inside. How else should I get pegged?”

“I have an idea”, you said and then prepared him with a gentle massage.

Namjoon swore that it got hard to breathe. He thought that last night’s jerk off session already showed him how it felt to have his hole massaged, but nothing could have prepared him for when you touched him. His knees weakened and his body arched into you instinctively and soon, oh so very soon, you were able to bury a finger inside him.

“Shit, this is so hot”, you rasped while your otherwise so well-spoken boyfriend was lost for words and gasping for dear air.

That is how you prepared him for the plug. You started off with one, worked him up to two and ended it with three and Namjoon’s cock leaking on the rug with such desperation that a wet patch had already formed. And then, only then, were you able to fill his hole with the plug.

“Holy shit”, Namjoon croaked with his deep voice just slightly pitched and his long fingers gripping the edge of the mirror cabinet. It has a little platform for your lotions and tonight it also served as Namjoon’s only hope.

The stretch was unbearable at first. You had to kiss along his spine and jerk him off from behind until he stopped whining about the stretch and rather whined about wanting to cum. That is when you edged him, turning him into yet another mess because poor Joonie wanted to cum so fucking bad that it hurt. His stretched, little hole lied forgotten to him. Good. That’s why you did it.

“You’re done”, you told him and stepped back, placing your precum covered hands on his buttocks to spread him for you, “you seem to have relaxed quite a lot, mhm?”

“Holy shit, I wanna cum”, he begged and arched his back, “please allow me? Please?”

“No. No, we have to work our way up. I know you can do it.”

The buttplug Namjoon purchased came in a set of three. A small, a medium and large one. You started off with the medium sized one according to Namjoon’s wishes and wanted to use the opportunity of his already relaxed hole to take the next step. Namjoon agreed and so the play began anew. You replaced the medium sized plug with the large plug. Namjoon struggled to take it and even after you tried to fuck him open with the medium plug, refused to take it. More lube didn’t help either and so Namjoon fell to his knees and bent over. Right there and then on your ruined bathroom rug with his hands spread on the fluffy material and his back arched.

“Try it like this.”

“Don’t expect me to be normal after tonight. I hope you know that this is changing our relationship”, you told him and kneeled down behind him to work the huge plug into his well-presented hole.

It went smoothly this way. Namjoon trembled and moaned while you leaked all over the rug and pushed the toy deeper and deeper until the flat base sat snuggly against him.

“Holy fuck, holy shit. Holy fuck, I’m stuffed. Fuck, it burns”, he moaned and twisted the rug between his fingers, “I wanna cum.”

“Yeah same honestly”, you told him as your eyes stared at his plugged hole. So this is how your boyfriend looks there. Three years with him and you never thought about his hole that way, now you couldn’t get enough of him.

“Shit, do something please. The stretch is a lot”, he told you to which you helped him get back to his knees.

“To the bedroom, now. You’re gonna cockwarm me until it stops hurting.”

Which brings us to the current part of the evening. Namjoon is twitching and leaking deep inside you while the huge buttplug in his ass drives him to the brink of insanity.

“Please fuck me”, he begs, squeezing his trembling thighs together.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes”, he gasps out and tenses his body, “yes, please. I have to cum. Your pussy, my hole, I-ah.”

“Shit, you drive me insane”, you whisper, lifting yourself off his cock despite aching for more. His slick-covered dick flops against his stomach, leaking sadly as the once warm pleasure seizes to exist. His lower abs flex, a deep groan rumbles in his chest. You can feel it against your fingers as they massage his huge tits.

You release his pecs, shimmying yourself down his body until you can sit on his thighs instead. You feel up the mess his cock made on his tummy, holding his cock by its base so it wasn’t in the way. He is so wet from your pussy. Shit, you are so turned on. It shows in how white and creamy your juices look on him.

“You’ve got all messy, Joonie baby”, you taunt, dragging your fingers through his soiled pubes.

“Please fuck me”, he begs, focusing his eyes on you. They are half-lidded, yet terribly hazy, “please, I can’t take much more. Just fuck me.”

“Beg me one more time.”

“Please, please. Please fuck me, please.”

“Shit, that feels so good”, you say and drop his cock even if that makes him whine in sensitivity. You crawl off his lap, making him squirm because he knows exactly what that means. You climb off the bed, picking up the harness he bought for you. It was purple in colour and had a compartment for a grinder. If your boyfriend was one thing then he was attentive. Of course he would purchase a strap which would make sure that you will get as much pleasure as he will. No wonder you fall for this man day by fucking day.

Namjoon watches you put on the harness with heavy breaths moving his chest.

“I’m seriously fucked”, he says, “I’m so messed up, holy fuck. Are you also that horny?”

“Yeah”, you say in a breathy laugh, “I’ve already creamed your cock because of it.”

“Shit, I know. Shit, please hurry up. Fuck”, he babbles, arching his back while his head rolls to the other side, “I’m messed up. I’m so fucking messed up.”

“Me too honestly”, you say just as you finish up securing the dildo, “how do I look?”

Namjoon looks at you and laughs.

“Holy fuck”, he presses out, throwing his hand over his forehead, “I’m so fucked”, he laughs and squirms, “you’re so fucking hot. I won’t ever be normal again, baby.”

“Good”, you say, strutting back to bed. You feel confident and sexy now that Namjoon reacted so positively to your look. Truth be told, you are nervous. Having a cock – even if just silicon – feels unfamiliar to you and you feared that he might think you look weird with it.

His reaction washed away all of those insecurities and you can’t wait to actually use it on him.

You place yourself at the side of the bed, holding your silicon cock between your fingers.

“Come here, puppy”, you order.

Namjoon obeys with wobbly knees. He sits down on the edge of the bed, sinking into himself the moment pressure is applied to the plug. You can watch how it messes him up. You’ve never seen his eyes become droopier than they do right now.

You cup his cheek and run your left hand over his shoulder. He is face to face with your upper stomach when he sits on your bed, but looks up at you right now.

“What’s with that face?” you ask him.

“I’m so messed up”, he gets out, letting his head fall into your hand as his lids fight gravity.

“Yeah? Is the plug keeping you on edge?”

He nods his head, reaching for your waist. His thumbs brush over the straps of the harness, tracing it obsessively. His eyes, once focused on you, flit down to your strap.

“Please fuck me”, he begs, tugging you closer, “I can’t take it anymore. Everything hurts.”

“Get on all fours”, you order.

Namjoon obeys. He gets off bed and turns his back to you, crawling back on the mattress so he can present his ass to you in an arch of his back.

“There we go, so fucking sexy”, you praise him and run your hands to the plug. You pull it out carefully, moaning with Namjoon at how easily he release it. The visual of it makes your pussy throb. His pretty rim closes up more and more the less girthy the plug becomes until you pulled it out completely. You place it aside, watching with a racing heart as his stretched hole pushes out the access lube. It runs down his body until it makes a mess of his heavy balls.

“Holy fuck that’s the sexiest view I ever had”, you croak, touching his hole.

He tenses up and moans, pushing back into you.

“Your hole’s so soft, Joonie”, you rasp, massaging it slowly, “and it looks so…so open.”

“Open?”

“Yeah, it’s all soft and stretched out and I can really see that you’re loose. It’s not so puckered anymore”, you say and push your thumb inside, “shit, you’re burning up inside.”

“Please”, Namjoon pleads, twisting the sheets as his sculpted back shakes in a trembling breath, “please stop torturing me. I’ve already been through enough.”

“I love it when you talk like this”, you rasp and pull your thumb free. You reach for the lube bottle, opening it to prepare your strap.

“Hurry up”, Namjoon stresses.

“I am, be patient”, you throw back, “I want to make sure that it’s lubed up well.”

“I’m so messed up, seriously fuck.”

“Mhm, I’m already done”, you say and step closer, guiding the tip of your strap to his hole. You rub circles on it, pushing his hips down to make it easier to reach him.

Namjoon lowers himself gladly, gripping the sheets in anticipation.

“Ready?”

“Yes, please.”

“Take a deep breath”, you say and push.

Namjoon can’t take a deep breath. No, Namjoon can barely exhale, let alone inhale, as the sensation of being breached knocks every sense of sanity out of him. He should be used to it by now because you fingered him and used plugs on him, but this is different. This is so much more.

“Holy shit”, Namjoon lets out and whimpers. His normally deep and manly voice pitches as the smallest and subbiest of whimpers escapes him. His big, strong body grows limp as he drops into the sheets. Like this, he is resting in child’s pose, arching his ass into you while his fingers reach above his head and twist the sheets, “holy shit…. ____”, his second whimper is muffled by the sheets, but you hear it nonetheless.

“You’re taking me so well”, you press out with a trembling voice, using his hips as the only support. It takes everything inside you not to pass out from pleasure. To have your big, manly boyfriend reduced to a small, whimpering mess does things to you. Bear in mind, Namjoon has been submissive with you before, but never like this. This isn’t like him and yet as you have him clenching around your strap while his throat produces a squeak, he has never looked more like himself than he does right now.

You bottom out, gripping his buttocks to spread him on your strap. You give him one second of getting used to it and then you begin moving, watching with blow-out pupils as his hole bends to your will. It stretches right around your girth, moving in synch with your slow movements.

“Holy-”, Namjoon slams his hand onto the mattress for the sole purpose of gripping even more of the sheets. His body convulses, his hips lift off and try to fuck back onto your strap. “fuck. Ah ah-aha ah, p-please ah.”

“I’m not even kidding, Joonie. I don’t know if I can hold out for long”, you confess, dimpling his shaking hips, “I’m so horny.”

“Me too”, he whimpers, “me too, please ___, please don’t stop, please it feel so good.”

“It feels good?”

“So good”, he mewls, tugging on the sheets, “holy shit, it feels so good”, he presses out and the way his voice trembles makes it sound as if he was crying.

“Shit Joonie, I’m actually gonna pass out”, you growl and broaden your stance with the only goal of fucking him harder. You pick up your pace, helping his hips meet you with a strong grip.

Namjoon’s whimpers turn into breathy gasps and even higher squeaks. He rolls his head to the side, giving view to his ruined state. His bangs are stuck to his sweaty forehead, his cheeks are flushed red and from his squeezed-shut eyes the smallest droplets of tears seem to escape. You’ve got him crying in pleasure.

You knees buckle and for just a second it gets hard to move, but then Namjoon moans so desperately for you and you know that you have to be stronger than the ruin he drags you into. You pull him onto your strap, switching your gaze between his stuffed hole and his ruined face. His lips part as his throat produces the subbiest of moans over and over again. They are deeper when you pull back and pitch whenever you bottom out.

“Yes puppy, keep moaning for me”, you encourage him, rewarding him with smooth rolls of your hips.

“I have to cum soon”, he confesses as he continues to squeak like the babiest of babyboys.

He drags his hand down the sheets until he can wipe it over his own eyes, “oh god, I can’t stop crying”, he whines and lets out a sob, squeezing his hand over his eyes, “please ___ don’t edge me again, please.”

“I don’t think I can”, you are panting by now, dripping sweat. Fucking is difficult, but so goddamn rewarding. You finally understand why Namjoon wants to keep fucking you even if his body is tired. The reward of getting to make him moan and shake and fucking cry in pleasure is so worth any kind of muscle fatigue.

“___”, you reduced his vocabulary to your name and only your name. He can’t stop moaning it, whimpering it, sobbing it. His toes are curling, his back keeps tensing and flexing and his well-fucked hole keeps fluttering around your strap. Almost as if he wanted to suck you deeper in, to keep you close, to make it last forever.

Your name leaves him again, his mouth stays agape afterwards, allowing him to drool all over the sheets. His cheek is squished so cutely, but you can’t see anything cute about him right now. He is so hot. You need to fuck him until he orgasms. You need to show him that sex with you will be the best fucking sex he’ll ever have (he already knows and you know that he knows, you just like showing off).

“Yeah, you keep moaning my name. I’ve got you shaking so good”, you encourage him and get on your tiptoes just so you can angle yourself deeper. You manage to do so, but what you also manage to do is angle your strap exactly right that it hits his prostate.

“Ah!” Namjoon screams up and shakes in ways you have never seen him shake before.

“Hurts?!” you gasp.

“Please! There!”

“Fuck, okay. There”, you press out and repeat what you did before. His hole swallows you entirely, his body shakes in indescribable ways, his throat produces sounds foreign to your ears. You do it again. You fuck him. And again. Again. Again. Fucking again. Holy fuck again. Shit, he keeps moaning so much. Again. Look at him shake. Again. Again. You can’t stop. This is rewriting the way you look at him.

“Namjoon”, you moan, thrusting into him with passionate vigour, “Namjoon, my Joonie. My pretty Joonie. Holy fuck, my Joonie.”

Once more. Namjoon is a crying, snotty mess by now. His body is ruined. One more thrust. Deep. Hard. Right where he needs it.

“I’m cumming!” he somehow gets out and then loses control over himself. He doesn’t know how to describe it. There are honestly no words which could. He always thought that he knew his own body and that he already learned how to orgasm the hardest he could. He was wrong. This is the hardest he ever orgasmed in his twenty nine years of life and he is quite frankly scared. He begs for you, not knowing what exactly he is begging for. He sobs into the sheets, bites them because otherwise he would scream his throat sore. He hurts his fingers from gripping the sheets and ruins his own body by emptying his balls to the point where he can’t produce any more. At some point of this soul-changing experience he heard you moan out a shaky “you’re making me cum” followed by your own ecstatic moans.

When you both finally calm down, your heads hurt and your lungs work overtime to get air into them. You plop down on Namjoon, resting your sweaty cheek against his equally as sweaty back. Your head lifts and sink in sync with his frantic panting.

“Fuck”, you get out.

Your arms snake around his torso, hugging him close. Namjoon feels the walls crumble at the touch.

“F-fuck”, he presses out, coughing out a small desperate sob afterwards.

“Joonie?” you gasp, lifting your head, “are you okay?”

“Hug me please”, he begs.

“Hey, I’m here”, you assure him. You pull out of him gently and flip him over with his help. then you drag him into a sitting position, hugging him against your chest.

His weakened arms wrap around you instantly, his heart swells in his chest and grows so incredibly warm. He is still shivering, but he doesn’t feel frightened by it anymore. You are playing with his hair and kissing his head and this is all he needs.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

“No, I’m so”, he stutters, “so o-overwhelmed. S-sorry.”

“Don’t apologise for that. I understand, I’m overwhelmed too”, you assure him and squeeze him closer, “I never heard you scream like this.”

“I never s-screamed before. Not, not for sex”, he hiccups once as he tries to regulate his breathing, “fuck, I-I’m messed up.”

“Lean into me, I’m here”, you promise him, rocking your bodies from side to side gently while Namjoon leans into you and sighs.

Some moments of silence pass where you rock him and he hugs you close. You share warmth this way and truly feel the other. The room got terribly dark while you fucked. If you hadn't been so clever and turned on the bedside table lamp as precaution, you would be standing in darkness right now. The coziness of it really seeps into your consciousness now that your minds weren’t clouded by insane desire.

Namjoon is the one who breaks the hug. Somehow at least. His arms still stay around your waist, but his head lifts so he could look at you. A few tears sit on his dark lashes, but otherwise he looks so entirely happy.

“I love you”, he says and smiles with his eyes before his lips curl into a smile as well.

“I love you too”, you answer him without hesitation, wiping the remnant tears from his cheeks, “are you feeling better?”

“Yes, thank you”, he says, leaning into your touch, “for everything. Thank you for literally everything. I know this was new and maybe a little weird at first, so thank you for doing this with me and for not judging me.”

“Hey, don’t thank me for that. I didn’t think it was weird at all. On the contrary, I had so much fun that it’s hard to put into words”, you say and pull his head up just a little so you could be closer. Like this, his cheeks squish together and make him look so adorable. Your eyes race between his’ as you talk. Namjoon can see how utterly and maddeningly in love you are with him. He feels the same. He fell so much deeper for you tonight.

“Really?” he asks.

“Yes really. I was nervous at first, because it was new.”

“Of course.”

“But I didn’t feel weird for even a second and I genuinely mean it that I’m looking at you differently now, because the way you moaned tonight changed me.”

“Really?” he asks in a shy laugh.

“Yes, really. You were so hot, Joonie and if you want to do it again I will say yes without hesitation.”

“I want to do it again”, Namjoon says, “I felt so good.”

“Me too, Joonie. I felt amazing.”

Namjoon lets out a shy giggle and hugs you against him. You hug him back instantly, playing with his hair.

“I want to nap. I’m so tired”, he mumbles into your chest.

“Same. We could clean up and then nap together.”

“Yes, I’d like that a lot”, Namjoon says with a smile on his lips. He can’t stop smiling. You’ve got him so goddamn giddy.

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jeonsbabygirlsworld · 3 months

Text

SPECIAL GIFT

SUMMARY: And when your husband brings you your desired anniversary gift…

PAIRINGS : Jungkook, husband Namjoon x wife reader

WORD COUNT : 1.5k

SMUT WARNINGS : Unprotected sex , cream pie to maximum, oral (m,f) , spanking a bit , spitting , doggy style 😏😏

A/n : Thankyou for requesting the namkook smut I hope this was okay :) reblog and comments are always appreciated ❤️YALL please don’t let it flop I actually worked really hard 😔😬 and this is also a little something for 800+followers ❤️❤️

It was yours and Namjoon's fifth anniversary and you wanted something much more special than some gifts so here you are waiting for your husband to come home, you dress up in black lingerie, you hear the front door opening and you find to see your husband looking so sexy in his office attire, you almost didn't want to leave your husband this morning but alas work is work.

Namjoon offers you his dimple smile and hands you the bouquet of tiger lily, taking them, he lays a small kiss on your lips "Well happy anniversary my love and you look so gorgeous baby" he says and goes for a long kiss this time "thank you my love, and I hope you haven't forgotten on what I want, I want hi-" you get interrupted by the doorbell.

"It's here Jagi," Namjoon says and opens the door, you don't know how your husband convinced him and you don't even care you needed him and here he is Jeon Jungkook who works under your husband in the office, you've met him so many times whether it maybe an office party or get together or you randomly coming to meet your husband you've never missed batting an eye on him and Namjoon knows about it so here he is your anniversary gift.

Jungkook gasps seeing you in a revelling lingerie never used to see you in these clothes "Hey Jungkook, how are you? Listen just come inside and you know her, this my wife." your husband introduces you both and you urge him to take a seat on the sofa.

Jungkook seems a bit nervous, of course, he will be he is about fuck his coworker's wife, you sit right next to him, and your fingers start to move over his thighs, and you lay soft teasing kisses on his Jawline, Jungkook jumps on his seat, and you see some goosebumps rising on his arms "Jungkook would you like to drink something? wine maybe?" Namjoon asks dragging you both out of the slumber.

While the man next just simply nods and Namjoon heads to the kitchen to fetch some wine and your teasing never stops, your hand stubbly moves towards the hard bulge straining against his pants, a breathy moan of your name leaves his mouth, and your husband is back with a glass of wine and passes over to him, quickly gulping it Jungkook gives you a small smile and you crash a kiss on his lips moaning at the tinge of strawberry.

"Honey, you take him to the room ill catch up in a few" Namjoon says and you rise from the couch and extend your hand and guide him to yours and Namjoon's shared room, Jungkook is seated in the bed when you go down on your knees "This okay? Let me know if when I should stop" You ask and start zipping down his pants with the boxers now down, Jungkook's hard length slaps his lower abdomen making him hiss a bit because of the chilly air and your warm palm coming in contact.

You start slow, only sucking on his tip and coaxing his precum to leak more," Y/n" a groan leaves his mouth, and the sucking soon turns into slurping you get his cock wet and Jungkook makes a ponytail of your hair from his hand and pushes you further on himself slowly letting off his shyness.

You hear the clinking of a belt right behind you and you see your husband undressing himself, Jungkook above you tells you that's what he wants when you go down to lick right behind his balls. "Like that kook? "You ask him your eyes a bit teary from the gagging and the saliva dripping down from the corner off your it is messy.

Humming he pushes your head more and hums and yes's leave his mouth "Feels good y/n" Jungkook moans out loud and spits down in his cock so it could messier after a few minutes of you palming and sucking his salty cum fills your mouth "Yeah that's my girl" Namjoon says while he looks at both of you.

Not registering what happened Jungkook gets you on your feet and pushes you onto the bed immediately hovering above you and kissing you roughly, he leans down to mark your neck and dark purple hickeys are now fresh on your neck, licking them once again he done. The lingerie is removed by him, and you are soon naked completely bare, and your pussy lips are coated in your slick.

Jungkook comes face to face, and you let out a whine "So wet y/n" Jungkook's says in a raspy voice and your hands curl over the mattress above you and you look over to your husband palming his hard cock "so good kook, more-" you are cut off by Jungkook placing a kiss on your clit and spitting up on your opening.

"You sound so pretty when you moan y/n "The man between your legs never stops praising you and slowly fingerfucks you, his long fingers reach your spot within a few minutes and purr out a sweet little cry of his name and Jungkook smirks looking at you like this.

You never fail to tell your husband how good Jungkook is making you and you swear you see stars when he rubs the ball of your clit while his fingers destroy your insides "How does it feel y/n?" He says when goes to make out with your clit spitting on it and placing small kisses and rubbing making you messier.

you reach down to grab Jungkook's hair to push him out because you were about to squirt the menace between you coaxes you to cum on his fingers and the last rub on your clit makes so squirt so hard and you see white, Jungkook places a small kiss and rises from in between your legs.

Namjoon joins you both on the bed while Jungkook makes you turn around on your knees so he can fuck you from behind, Jungkook enters you without any thought and cries out a moan, your husband seats himself in front of you and gets his cock sucked, the vibrations you make send him to the edge, Jungkook groans at the tightness of your pussy and starts hammering you from behind "Fuck my mouth Joon, want you to cum inside my mouth" you say and go back to fondle the heavy balls stored full of his cum and you slick up his cock.

Jungkook buries himself into the hilt waiting for your reaction and testing the water, a bulge forms on your lower belly and you croak out to tell him to go on "Oh fuck Jungkook" loud moans, cry and skin slapping resound the room, and an intoxicating smell surrounds the room.

At one-point Jungkook grabs your hair from behind and gives a particularly hard thrust which makes you let out your husband's cock from the mouth "Try not to cum kook, her pussy is worth it" Namjoon says looking over at Jungkook while he just nods the clenching making it tuff for him to slide inside further "loosen up baby, wanna slide in further" Jungkook slaps your ass while speaking to you.

It made it harder for Jungkook to not cum when you clenched around him this much "So good, the best in the world y/n" Whines left from his mouth and your husband soon came in your mouth while you overstimulated his with laying kisses behind his balls and licks from his balls to cock, humming at the salty taste.

Jungkook finally cums inside you making it even messier, some of his cum dripped down the sheets and you will worry about them later now you just enjoy being filled. Changing positions once again you are now facing Jungkook, and your ass is presented to your husband, your husband teases you by rubbing his cock between your pussy lips and you cock over to Jungkook and take his cock in your mouth both moaning in unison, the room is again surrounded by loud noises.

Jungkook backs away when he feels overwhelmed by your sucking you cry from the pleasure your husband was giving you "Kook choke me wanna cum so bad." you say in a rushed manner the thrusts making it almost impossible for you to speak "Ah fuck I'm gonna cum, just kiss me kook I can't take it anymore" you say and the man in front of you and bends down to give you the kiss you wanted.

Namjoon continues to deliver hard thrusts spanking your ass occasionally, sliding out to see your cum milking his cock white creamy rings start to form at the base of his cock and groans soon filling up with cum and collapsing on top of you.

Jungkook soon gets Ready to leave you after he calms down from his orgasm and your husband takes care of your cleanup and hands him some spare clothes so he can wash up and go home in fresh clothes..

When he is about to go you grab his soft hands and stand on your tip toes "Thank you for being here kook, I enjoyed this." you say letting out a giggle when he says "Anytime" and leaves you both......

TAGLIST :

@kimmingyuswifee @jungk97kwife @jk-hoe97 @cassies-cookies @ohsweetmimosa @aretha170 @galaxygirl453

#bts #bts jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #btssmut #bts one shot #bts x reader #bts fanfic #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #namjoon fic #namjoon fanfiction #namjoon oneshot #namkook #smut #jungkook

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cheolhub · 1 year

Text

SUNDRESS! ⌇KIM NAMJOON ࿐

— PROMPT: in which joon fucks you in your brand new sundress because to him, the only thing better than you… is you in a sundress practically begging for him.

— PAIRING: namjoon x f!reader

— GENRE: established relationship, smut (minors dni)

— WORD COUNT: 2.45k

— WARNINGS: daddy kink, unprotected sex, creampie (yum), heavy praise, body worship, big!dick joon, size kink, reader is HORNY AF

— A.NOTE: HI!!! so if u saw the first version, im so sorry LOL… im not good at using this app 😭 but here it is (again), if you cant see some of the words, PLEASE LET ME KNOW!!

namjoon loves dresses. it’s not just any dress that he loves, though, but sundresses. specifically, sundresses on you. the ones that are tight around your chest with its fabric digging into the flesh of your soft breasts. the ones that are flowy at the end and show him your cute panties every time you spin a little too fast or you bend over to pick something up. the ones that he wants to rip off your body, to watch your tits spill and your face turn beet red.

he keeps his admiration subtle, though. he is a gentleman after all.

with his subtlety, you never realize how hard joon gets when he sees you in a sundress. he ogles you with wide eyes every time your head is turned and sometimes he tries to look under your dress to see your panty-clad pussy. one time in particular, he took a peek and saw your bare cunt and had to excuse himself because he thought he was going to explode if he was within 5 feet of you. you’re just so oblivious, though.

but today, you peek your head around the corner in your brand new dress to see your handsome boyfriend reading a book on the couch, hair messy yet still undeniably perfect. you feel giddy, your stomach fluttering and panties dampening just at the sight of him.

“psst!” you whisper trying to catch his attention, but he seems to be deeply invested in his book so you call for him instead. “joonie!” you say in a hushed whisper.

a smile creeps onto his face and he hums, eyes still following the words in his novel. “need somethin’ baby?”

you come from behind the corner, standing in front of him, bottom lip lodged between your teeth as you wait for him to look at you. “do you like it?” you ask meekly with doe eyes ready to bore into his.

when namjoon looks up, he doesn’t expect to see you standing in front of him, tits pushed up unable to breathe with the confining fabric of your brand new sundress. he notices how the dress stops midthigh and how it's tight around your waist and how fucking perfect you look. he imagines how much more perfect you would look with the dress pushed up and his cock pounding you into the couch, but he has to refrain before he cums in his sweats.

you take his silence as an act of disapproval and feel your mood falter. he soon realizes he still hasn’t said anything till he hears your voice, its tone being a stark contrast from a few seconds prior. “i guess you don’t like it… i think i can still return it,” you trail off, lips etched into a deep pout as your eyes fall to the plain white socks on your feet.

he quickly snaps his head up from your body to look up at you, “uh-uh, look at me, baby,” he says, watching your eyes move up to look at him. he takes ahold of your hands, intertwining his fingers into yours, “you look fuckin’ gorgeous, angel… you just caught me off guard, that’s all,” he reassures. “so pretty for me…” he mumbles, eyes raking over your body all over again.

you squeeze your thighs together as his words and deep gaze shoot straight to your core making you let out a shaky exhale, “all for you…” you reiterate like it’s a statement, which in this case, it is. it’s the cold hard truth because there’s no one else that makes you feel the way that kim namjoon does.

he feels his cock twitch in his sweats and notices the way you shift your weight. his eyes darken, pulling you closer to him, “promise?” he murmurs, looking up at you.

you feel the dull ache from earlier in the pit of your stomach growing stronger. you need to feel him. you take a chance, straddling his lap, blushing softly when you feel his large bulge digging into your soaked, bare pussy. “promise, ‘m all yours, daddy…”

namjoon swears he could cum in this instance. the feeling of his baby’s slutty pussy dripping all over his grey sweats? he’s in heaven and he’ll have to remember to thank the gods for this later. his mouth opens to say something about your lack of underwear and the taboo nickname, but he’s interrupted by a strangled groan when you start grinding into him.

you gasp, dreamily, getting even wetter at the feeling of his cock growing harder against your cunt. “daddy,” you whimper. “fuck, m’ so wet, you make me so wet,” you ramble rutting against him at a desperate pace.

fuck it, joon thinks to himself. he groans, moving his hands to your waist to guide you, “yeah, baby? daddy’s got you all messed up down here?” he asks, eyeing how the wet spot on his crotch begins to grow with your arousal.

you nod, eyes sealed shut with your head filling with pleasure.

“you’ve got me all messed up, too,” he hums with a smirk, “every fuckin’ time you put on a dress, i just wanna rip it off you and fuck you so bad,” he admits mindlessly, gripping your waist even harder. “you’re always so pretty, angel, my pretty fuckin’ girl,”

you moan at the thought of all the times you had unconsciously teased him with your little dresses. your stomach flips at his words once again, “fuck me,” you whine, opening your eyes again. you rest your forehead against his, breath fanning against his face as you whisper, “want you to fuck me, joon, wan’ your cock in me– need you in me,”

before he gives his brain a chance to short circuit, he flips you over into the couch at the speed of lightning. his hands move to your tits, roughly pulling the fabric down watching them pop out. he moans softly, taking a second to admire how beautiful they are before he places open-mouthed kisses over them. his mouth quickly catches one of your nipples, rolling his tongue over the hardened bud, biting and sucking as if he were a starved man. he hears your whimpers and repeats his actions with the other, moving his hand to massage your tit.

you arch your back and cry loudly when he bites your nipple a little too hard, “hngh!” he releases, apologizing for his eagerness with gentle eyes. you pout at how much wetter you’ve gotten since his attack on your breasts. “wan’ it now, please!”

namjoon nods fervently, “anything you want, pretty girl,” he mumbles, leaning in to kiss your lips with passion and genuine love, yet it’s sloppy— teeth clashing and tongues tangling with one another. you moan into the kiss, wrapping your arms around his neck before he pulls away a minute later, a string of spit leaving you tethered to one another for a moment longer.

he pulls his ruined sweats down far enough for his cock to spring out and slap against his clothed abdomen. staring at how hard he is, you realize you can only ever think about how huge his cock is. and how gorgeous it is with its prominent veins and blushy tip that leaks the sweetest of precum. and how he always fucks you so good with it– how he fucks you till you’re wrecked. nothing but a beautiful, babbling mess of cum, drool and sweat, but you both fucking love it.

your pussy clenches over nothing, the sight of his cock being too hot to handle. you feel your arousal drip down your ass, soaking the dress and probably even the cushion of the couch. neither of you could care less when you’re starving for each other.

namjoon wraps his hand around his throbbing member, stroking up and down, “you want it, baby?” you nod, spreading your legs to put your pussy on display for him. he sucks his teeth, shaking his head at your lack of response, “you gotta tell me how bad you want it,”

you huff flipping your dress up and pulling your knees to your chest and you notice his eyes zero in on your sopping cunt and your desperate hole that’s literally aching to be stuffed. “oh, please!” you cry, eyes welling with tears of need. “wan’ it bad, you always fuck me so good, so so good! wan’ your big cock in me, daddy, promise i can take it,”

he sucks in a sharp breath, dick twitching and on the verge of cumming everywhere, but he loses it when he hears those words tumble out of your mouth oh-so needily.

“please, i wanna feel all your cum inside me!”

he grunts, aligning his cock with your drooling hole before slowly inching in. he can barely hear your mewling with the ringing sound in his ear being so loud. the way your sticky walls invite him in and wrap around him so tightly has him seeing red. namjoon drowns in pride knowing he molded your pussy to the shape of his cock and his only.

immediately, you wrap your legs around him, heels digging into his back to push him into you further, but to also hold you steady.

“fuck!” he grunts, throwing his head back as he bottoms out. “this pussy was fuckin’ made for me, ain’t that right, beautiful?” he looks down at you to see your eyes screwed shut and your mouth wide open, yet you still nod your head feverishly. “all mine, yeah?”

“yours, always yours,” you cry, still nodding your head.

he hums in delight before inching out of your tight grip and slamming back in making you scream in a mix of pain and pleasure. your arms instinctively wrap around his neck, holding his body close while he pushes the dress up, having the soft, cotton fabric bunch up all together under your tits.

you cry softly and tilt your head back when you feel the head of cock brush against your sweet spot. you pant out a soft, “r-right there,” with your eyes threatening to roll back.

you feel him push you deeper into the couch, his mind lost in pleasure with how your face is scrunched up in pleasure and your high pitched moans filling the once quiet living room. his length glides in and out of your ruined cunt, his skin slapping against yours— another delectable sound he can’t help but love.

“pretty fuckin’ baby,” he grunts, hand sliding over your abdomen and pushing down softly. the pressure of his hand makes your back arch into him. “can you feel me here?”

you gasp, breathing labored, “hah! yes! s’ deep, daddy, soso big,” you whine, clenching tightly around him.

you swear you see the light with his words and the way his cock keeps bumping your cervix, but his splayed hand slides down and his thumb finds your hardened clit and rubs sweet circles into you.

“j-joon!” you squeal, the action sending lightning cracks through your body. “m’ gonna— hah! gonna cum!” you feel a knot in your stomach tightening as your impending orgasm approaches quickly.

he revels in how your cunt clamps tightly around him, sucking him in even more. “soak my fuckin’ cock then, baby, you can do it,” he mutters, his thumb on your swollen bud working faster. “make me proud,”

a mantra of his name leaves your mouth as you cream his cock, just as he asked you to do. your eyes definitely roll back this time as you let out a loud moan and your pussy grips him like a vice. the knot unravels at your disposal with the help of his words and your need to please him. your back arches even more and tears of pleasure slip from your eyes.

he can’t even help but moan, leaning in to kiss your lips roughly. the way his cock twitches uncontrollably inside of you signals he’s close, like watching you cum made him even harder, so he pounds into you even more. the head of his cock consistently kissing your sweet spot with every impressive stroke. the sound of your arousal soaked skin connecting and disconnecting at a rapid speed mixing with your muffled, joint moans.

“s’ too much!” you cry once he breaks this kiss again.

namjoon nods knowingly, “i know, baby,” he grunts. “such good girl for me, fuck, m’ almost there,” he mumbles against your lips. “take it for me, i know you can,”

you nod obediently, your overstimulated cunt weakly clamps around him again at the praise.“c-cum inside,” you whine.

he groans again, louder this time, “gonna fill my pretty girl’s filthy cunt full of my cum, that’s what you want?” he asks, words slurring a bit as his head spins. “you wanna leak my cum, baby?”

your brain’s gone haywire with his vulgar words and ruthless pace, yet you still find the sanity to reply with your own slurred words, “pleaseeee, daddy, pretty please!”

he lets out a cracked moan, burying his face into the crook of your neck. his hips stutter till his body stills at the hilt. he moans again, louder this time when his hot load spills, painting your battered walls white. he nearly collapses on you, your name slipping out if his mouth in shuddered breaths as he comes down from his euphoric high.

you both spend a few minutes basking in the warmth of each other, soft sighs and moans exiting your lips and his, too. he soon wordlessly pulls out, shushing you sweetly when you whine at the sudden emptiness. his eyes look down at the mess you two had created, cursing in his mind as he watches his cum flood out of you. he fights the urge to shove it all back inside of you for “safekeeping,” but ultimately decides against it for both of your sakes.

instead, he pulls his sweats back up and runs to grab wet cloth to clean you up with.

when he comes back, you look at him with glazed over eyes and a lopsided smile. he smiles at you, eyes crinkling. he cleans you up, murmuring soft praises and placing tiny kisses over you.

“did so well for me, love,” he whispers once he’s done, pulling the culprit dress down and covering you up again. he peppers your face with kisses and words of affirmation.

you hum, basking in the afterglow, “so… i guess you don’t want me to return the dress?” it’s a joke, but seeing namjoon back away from your face and his lips pressed into a straight line only makes you giggle.

“you’re keeping it… in fact, let’s go buy you a hundred more, yeah?”

#bts smut #bts x reader #namjoon oneshot #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #kim namjoon smut

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jinkookspencil · 7 months

Text

like couples do | knj

you run out of period products at dawn, and there's only one person who's up....

description/tags: namjoon drabble / fwb to lovers / fluff / but mentions the fact that namjoon and reader had unprotected sex (don't do this) and reader is relieved to get her period afterwards / so obviously mentions of period and blood / maybe a bit angsty? / been busy and been working on a request! but it's been a while since i wrote namjoon and, gosh, i love writing for him even though whatever comes to me for him is usually the most random bursts and ideas, like this one i thought of last night / let me know what you think <3

wc: ~1.6k words

Your gasp pulls you from heaven to hell.

Extracted from your dream, you’re out of the covers in a flash, dazed as you try to meet your reality. The room was sweltering despite autumn settling in and the fan whizzing away in your room as it always did. The sound you’d grown so accustomed to only made it harder to think, but you didn’t have to. The wet pools at your back and around your body suddenly made themselves known, with your black pajama top sticking to your sweaty skin. With a quick change into a tank top and a sip of cold water, you were ready to escape into a dreamland, far from the hellhole that had been your bedroom...

Only to be met with a small pool of a different kind when you pull away the blanket.

Fuck.

Quickly feeling between your thighs confirmed it - you bled through your shorts.

Well, at least it’s here, you think, your heart settling after days worrying about the sudden delay in your cycle. After all, Namjoon hadn’t used any protection…

It was hard to put away the mental image of him once you were in the bathroom, remembering that one time he had you propped up on the cabinet, but looking through it now, the panic returns. You were all out of pads and tampons.

This is why people have roommates. Or stupidly organized Virgo boyfriends, you think, cursing yourself while rummaging through every drawer, cupboard, and overnight bag without finding a single tampon for the evening.

The minutes spent on your phone were quick to squash any more of your hopes - the delivery service app had been shut down for the night after some seemingly catastrophic bug on their end, and your female friends who lived nearby hadn't answered your texts and calls, as expected at this time of day.

Reading the time on your phone, you knew one person who would definitely be up. The person who always showed up. The man worked ridiculous hours, following his ‘late-night creativity’… unless the universe really wanted to torture you and, for the very first time, he’d be asleep as well.

You consider running to the convenience store, double layering your bottoms with black fabrics, and taking a scooter... only for a stinging cramp to shock you at your lower back.

He had to answer.

to: joon 🌒[3:58am] - hi are you up?

to: joon🌒 [3:58am] - text asap please it’s urgent

to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - yes i’m up. are you okay y/n?

to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - i’m finally done with work for the night.

to: y/n🍀 [4:01am] - are you okay? i’ll call as soon as i’m out of the building.

to: joon🌒 [4:02am] - don’t call i’m embarrassed to say this to you out loud plus i'm in pain

to: joon 🌒 [4:02am] - can you get me some pads and tampons? i got my period (aka the pain) and i’m all out so….

to: joon🌒 [4:02am] - i need em and i can’t get em

to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - y/n of course. phew i thought this was going in literally the complete opposite way considering…

to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - anyways, aren’t we past embarrassment? never feel that when it comes to me please.

to: y/n🍀 [4:03am] - safe space just for us, remember?

to: joon🌒 [4:04am] - yes :) thanks joon

to: y/n🍀 [4:04am] - :) getting on my bike now. i’ll be there in 10.

to: y/n🍀 [4:04am] - the sky’s starting to change colors. look outside, pretty :) (1 image attached)

The knock, though expected, jolts you enough for your new bedsheet to spring away from your grasp once again. Frustrated, a groan escapes you as you walk to your front door, tightening the robe that covered your body and stained shorts.

“Sorry I’m late,” Namjoon giggles at the door, seeing your furrowed expression. “Oh, you’re most definitely on your period, huh?”

“Get in here and shut up,” you groan once more, letting him in. All too familiar with your place, he unpacks one of the bags in his hand, carefully displaying an array of period products on the nearest table.

“I’m surprised you didn’t send a photo and ask me to choose one,” you say, grabbing one of the boxes.

“I… I grabbed everything in the aisle without thinking. Shit, I should’ve sent a photo, right? Are these not good enough? Are they the wrong size? Will they fit your....? I can go to another convenience store,” he murmurs, head tilted down as he surveys the products before you.

“No, Namjoon, honey, the photo is just a thing boyfriends tend to do when they’re asked to get period products. You asked the same size and fit question, though,” you laugh before quickly realizing you compared his actions to that of a boyfriend. Something he most definitely was not.

“I lived in a dorm full of boys, how was I supposed to know?” he says, scratching his head.

“These are perfect, and I’m stocked for at least the next three months. Thank you, Joonie,” you say, squeezing his arm.

“Anytime, Y/N,” he replies quietly, pulling you closer to him so he can kiss your forehead. It only hits you both when your hand is rubbing at his back in his embrace, and it takes even longer to break away than it did to realize the situation.

Something shifts in Namjoon’s gaze when he sees you emerge from the bathroom in new pyjama shorts. “Cute PJ’s. I’m not used to seeing them on you for more than five seconds.”

“Enjoy the show, then,” you quip, plopping down next to him on the couch and extending your legs over his lap. You hadn’t really meant it as a command, but can’t help but smile catching the fact that Namjoon had obeyed. His fingers draw mindless circles at your ankles as his gaze travels upwards. Minutes are spent in silence, eyeing your thighs with intent before his eyes rest on your exposed clavicle. His circles stop, gripping your ankle and noting the undeniable rise and fall of your breathing and breasts, swollen and tender against your thin cotton tank top.

“Oh,” he finally says with a cough, breaking the silence and raising his brows. “I almost forgot. I thought you might need these.”

Leaning forward, Namjoon dumps the entire contents of the second plastic bag onto your hard coffee table. Small, colorful circles bounce off of it and onto the floor, long bars land with a thud, and instantly recognizable plastic packages are cushioned by its contents.

“Oh, Joon. I do. I do fucking need this,” you let out, almost as a moan. “You already know what I want.”

Smiling, he tears open a plastic packet of your favorite chocolate-flavored bread and another for himself. The time spent biting and savoring the pillowy snack was heavenly in the comfortable silence -save for the birds that begin to chirp from somewhere outside your window.

“Don’t worry, I haven’t forgotten the sticker,” you say, handing Namjoon the tiny square envelope in your now-empty plastic packaging. He’s quick to grab it from your hands, giddy to see whatever Pokemon character was inside.

"Take mine, too," he says, handing you his square, with an illustration of a pink, deer-like creature - not at all like the Pokemon he usually mentioned.

"Oh, she’s pretty!”

"Exactly..." he says. "Deerling, that's her name. She's a new favorite of mine, actually. Her colors change based on the different seasons in the year... and when she evolves, her deer form's antlers are basically how branches are decorated in nature: budding flowers and leaves for spring, greenery for summer, you get the picture. She's the only one that truly encapsulates the beauty of our world..."

"All that for a Pokemon? I'm jealous," you tease, but he doesn't laugh, quietly opening the envelope you'd handed to him.

“Yes!” he cheers. “I don’t have this one yet - Moltres. Ah, you really are my good luck charm, huh?"

"Am I? I guess you should keep me around, then, huh?" you say, leaning back on the couch and poking his shoulder.

"That's the plan," Namjoon says, his eyes still thoughtfully fixated on the sticker he fiddled with, but only for a moment. “Uhm… I… we… should probably get some sleep, huh? I should probably…go. Uhm, should I?”

“Do you want to go?” you ask, feeling a tightening in your chest at the thought. Just like all those nights in bed, it was too comfortable to remember that this wasn't your entire reality but stolen, secret time. Always, one found themselves reminding the other to snap back to reality. It was beautifully torturous, just as you two had liked it for so long… until it began to sink in that the beauty could stand on its own…. if only one of you had the courage.

“….No. No I don’t really want to go, Y/N. But if you want me to….”

“I don’t want you to,” you interrupt, nudging his fingertip with yours right over your knees until your hands are intertwined. “I mean someone has to help me fit that stupid sheet onto the bed... and you're quite familiar with my sheets."

“I am,” he smiles, nodding to himself and squeezing your hand with his.

“Then we can get in… and just go to sleep… or cuddle,” you wonder, feeling Namjoon's soft hand under yours.

“Like couples do?” Namjoon asks, finally meeting your gaze for the first time that night.

“Yeah… yeah, I’m thinking like couples do,” you whisper, your breath hitching on the words that spoke your once unthinkable, far-fetched desire while looking at it right in the eyes.

“Me too,” he smiles, bringing your hand up to kiss it and rest it at his dimples. “Like couples it is then.”

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kooktrash · 1 year

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hehe i know you mostly write for tae and jungkook which i get, fine ass men mhm mhm 😏 but how about a lil smutty drabble with namjoon, maybe some oral ft. hair pulling kink? 🗿 i’m a dirty slut, sue me sandra 🧍🏽‍♀️

luvvvv a good Namjoon smut moment bestie. didn’t know if you wanted him to receive or give but who doesn’t like a good pussy pleaser Joon fic?

tw: established relationship. oral [f receiving] 933 words

he’s a munch | kim namjoon

“Joon,” you released a breathy laugh as your boyfriend came over to you, arms immediately wrapping around you and pulling you into his chest. He hummed softly as he pressed his lips to yours, fingers toying with the hem of your sleeping shorts, “I’m gonna make breakfast.”

“Why?” He asked, letting his hands slip under the waistband to cup your butt, “I’ve got a cute meal right here.”

“Yeah? What about me? What am I supposed to do?” You asked as he slowly slid the shorts down, not bothering for one moment to take things slow. Your boyfriend was keen on early morning activities, especially when he just gets back from a morning gym sesh and walks in to find you in the kitchen.

“Let me be greedy first?” He asked as he sunk down onto his knees dropping your shorts the rest of the way down. You didn’t even bother to fight him as his fingers slips under the hem of your underwear and tugged them down too.

You bit back a smile as he looked up at you from under your legs as he guided you into spreading them further, face leaning into your heat. Your hands sat on the counter at the first touch, Namjoon didn’t ease into it, still horny from the events of last night where he had you pressed against the headboard holding onto it for dear life as he fucked you from behind letting the bed creak underneath you. His tongue licks flatly against your folds, not entering into your cunt but licking at whatever puddle of slick might be there. Wasting no time at all, his hands were on your hips, guiding you forward so that your cunt was practically seated on his face as you stood over him letting him kneel between your spread legs like a human worshiping a goddess. He didn't want you hovering just above him, he wanted to be buried in that perfect cunt until he could barely breathe. That’s how be liked it no matter how gentle of a boyfriend he was, he had to fuck you with everything he had, even if it’s just his tongue doing it.

You were fucking soaked too, always so ready for him to devour that there was no way he could ever be gentle with you unless it’s in aftercare. Your juices were all over his chin and his nose as he found your clit with ease, moaning into your pussy. You began a hesitant grind of your cunt into his face and his nails were digging into your soft thighs, to keep himself from throwing you onto the floor and fucking your brains out. You’re sore from last night, he can tell by the way you seemed drained and right now he couldn’t put you in more pain even if it was pleasurable. He had to hold back at least right now.

"Fuck," your head fell back, breathless moans and a few more curse words followed in a mantra before he felt your fingers tangle into his hair. "Yes, fuck, right there, baby. Don't stop."

Alternating between sucking on your clit and quickly lapping his tongue against it, Namjoon could feel your body begin to tremble and without a single thought in his pretty head, he yanked a leg up onto his shoulder for more support. The counter was slowly slipping away from you but he pressed you into it enough to keep you in place.

Namjoon’s tongue lapped at your folds creating a squelching sound from the way he ate you out like a dog thirsty for water, your hips rut against his face in pleasure. Your mouth was drawn open, loud moans slipping from your lips, "S-so close baby.”

He sucked on your clit, tongue hitting the tip with each swivel as the hand around your thigh was suddenly pinching forcing you to put weight on his shoulder and pull on his hair just that much more. He reached for your other leg nearly dropping you back on the counter as he hoisted it over his other shoulder. You had a hand pulling on his hair clinging to him as the other pushed against the counter to keep balance but he didn’t even notice. He was too focused on bringing you to a mind blowing orgasm to care if you fell. If anything you would just fall on his face and sit and ride his tongue like the pretty, desperate baby he knows you are.

Your legs were shaking and he was beginning to feel a little bit of pain from the way you tugged on his hair but it only spurred him on knowing how close you were. This entire time he didn’t speak, not when his mouth was full of your pushy and he never wanted to tear away.

The scene was erotic, so horny and needy and if you could look down then you would see his hips just barely grinding up into nothing seeking friction on his hardening member. The hold on your thighs was harsh, firm and tight to keep you from trying to lift yourself up and you were whining, “I’m gonna, oh fuck, I’m gonna, Joonie…”

His head moved with your hips as you fucked into his mouth and without another word he felt it. He felt your release dribble so smoothly into his mouth and he didn’t let up, letting you ride his face to orgasm letting you take control.

When you were finally able to stop cumming, he set you on top of the kitchen counter licking your essence off his lips. His hair was a mess from your rough pulling but he just kissed you without a care in the world, “Tastier than anything you can serve me on a plate.”

You laughed breathlessly as he pulled you I go a reassuring hug, “It’s not even 8:00am yet.”

“And I’m already well fed.”

::.

hopefully it was up to par 🫶

personal taglist: @notmyfaultbutours @rerefundslocals s @fandems @sugaluvmyg @guvgguk @kimyishin @libra04 @kooromiwrld @classycreationcupcake-blog @alwaysdreamingnotsleeping @cherrymonlightt @nikkiordonez12 @asking4-sanity @thvlover @saweetspoiled @uwu2rawr @shaybts-blog @babycandy111 @tearyjjeon @joons-uparupa @jeonninja @yellowcupid08 @02010802faves @knudsenheggedel @skzthinker @unnatae @aurorthi @beautywine @95ene @taekookstata @lilliankoo @shescharlie @annenakamura @lesoleile

#kooktrash requests #kim namjoon #Namjoon smut #namjoon #namjoon request #Namjoon drabble #namjoon imagine #Namjoon fic #namjoon oneshot #namjoon x y/n

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jungkwok · 3 months

Text

so this is love | knj fluff | bts disney series

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

pairing: namjoon x reader

tags: fluff duh, princecharming!namjoon x reader, based off plot of 'Cinderella'

word count: 486 words

◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦

In the grandeur of the royal palace, you find yourself a princess married to Prince Namjoon. The magic of your love story extends beyond the fairy tale, and every day feels like a dream. Yet, amid the opulence, there is a secluded garden that captivates your heart, hidden away from the prying eyes of courtiers.

One afternoon, as you meander through the palace corridors, Prince Namjoon spots you gazing longingly at the entrance to the secret garden. His eyes, filled with love and curiosity, follow your every move. Sensing his presence, you turn, and the corners of his lips curl into a warm smile.

"Are you curious about the garden, my love?" he asks, his voice a gentle caress. You nod, the anticipation evident in your eyes. With a twinkle in his eyes, Namjoon takes your hand and leads you to the garden's entrance.

The moment you step inside, a serene world unfolds – vibrant flowers in full bloom, the soft rustle of leaves, and the sweet fragrance of nature in its purest form. Prince Namjoon, always attentive to your desires, watches as your eyes light up with wonder.

"Shall we dance, y/n?" he suggests, extending his hand towards you. The music, as if summoned by his words, begins to play softly, carried by an unseen breeze. You place your hand in his, and the two of you sway in a dance only the enchanted garden knows.

As you move together, Prince Namjoon looks deep into your eyes, his gaze filled with an unspoken emotion. "In this secluded haven, away from the constraints of the world, I want you to know that you are my greatest treasure," he confesses, his voice a symphony of love.

Overwhelmed by his words, tears shimmer in your eyes. "And you, my prince, are the beating heart of my fairytale. With you, every day feels like a happily ever after," you respond, your voice a delicate melody.

The dance continues, a dance of hearts intertwined, emotions laid bare. Prince Namjoon leans in, his lips brushing against yours in a tender kiss. The world around you fades, and for a moment, it's just the two of you, lost in the enchantment of your love.

Breaking the kiss, Namjoon cups your face in his hands, his eyes searching yours. "I love you more than words can convey. You are my Cinderella, the one who has brought magic to my life," he whispers, his breath warm against your skin.

You return his gaze, your heart echoing his sentiments. "And you, my prince, are the embodiment of all my dreams. With you, I've found a love that transcends any fairy tale."

In that secluded garden, surrounded by the whispers of nature, Prince Namjoon and you share a moment that transcends time. As the dance continues, their love story blooms like the flowers around them, an everlasting testament to the magic woven into their hearts.

#bts #bts x reader #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts fluff #bts oneshot #namjoon x reader #namjoon imagine #namjoon fluff #namjoon oneshot #bts fantasy au #namjoon fic #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x you

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l0mljeonjungkook · 2 years

Text

Lost & Found | knj x reader

➤ Summary - eight years beside him were nothing but a roller coaster ride. Being a single mother wasn't easy, but your best friend, Kim Namjoon made your way smooth. You never knew you felt something for him until you read his diary, which you weren't supposed to read ever. What will you do, if not only you but Hyeon, your baby, and your best friend Namjoon, wants the same, what you desired for so long?

➤ Pairing - Namjoon x reader

➤ Genre - fluff, smut, angst

➤ Warnings - 18+ unprotected sex, grinding, lovemaking, explicit sex, confessions, hickeys +more.

➤ Word count - 9.6k+

"When are you getting spliced?" you questioned him while wiping off Hyeon's face daubed with the ice cream all over his mouth.

"y/n why do you ask the exact question every dinner night!! besides I'm better off alone." He pointed at you with the chopsticks in his hand.

"What? I have a license to interrogate, a license called best friends since uh--", you count on your fingertips and Hyeon laughs at you catching a glimpse of you amounting to something on your fingertips, "since seven years, yaah!! after all, you're diving into the 28th year of your life, Mr. Kim!!" You chuckle a pure sham chuckle.

"Hyeon, tell your mom, to concentrate on her food." He instructs Hyeon, who's heartily licking his fingers overlaid with ice cream yet his almond-shaped hazel eyes, are shaded with a craving for more ice cream, and mischievous eyes spot chocolate ice cream on the table.

"Hyeon is bored with mom and you", you both crack up.

You look back at the man sitting opposite you, "No, but seriously, when are you jumping on to propose Ji-a, enough of coffee dates now! I want you to start a family", you didn't ask, you implored, however, honestly you don't understand why.

"Coffee dates?? Are you-- insane? Coffee dates?? I never really got into such dates with her, if you ask me!! Who the hell told you so?" He blurted but instantly looked at Hyeon as if the kid heard his shoot voice and shut his eyes, "I'm sorry y/n, I didn't mean to shout out loud at you. Just to be transparent with you I'm currently not seeing anyone nor will see anyone in the future. And if you got your answer then let's leave, I'll drop you two."

You honestly don't get, why he gets so pissed off with your question.

"No, Hyeon needs more ice creams"

"Baby, no--"

"Which flavor my angel wants?" He questioned Hyeon, with fondness in his eyes.

"Chocolate one"

Barely a minute ago he was ready to drop you two home but isn't it obvious, that his love for Hyeon is out of the world?

"Why do you get so painfully angry about your marriage"

"Cause I don't want to!!!"

"Mom--"

"She's a nice--"

"Mom mom--"

"Yes baby", you wiped his face again.

"Mom I want you to get married to my friend" he announced, eyes on his ice cream.

You chuckled, looking at the man sitting opposite of you, "friend?"

"Yaa mom, Namjoon, he's good mom, then I'll tell everyone that my friend is my dad too." He giggles, and you both can only ignore him.

This question caught you off-guard. It startled you but it wasn't unfamiliar. You have been subjected to this question by none other than you, yourself. It didn't amaze you that much but what shook you was - the man himself in front of you.

It's been five days to be precise, since the last dinner on Saturday night you haven't heard from him. It's the sixth day, Friday morning, you couldn't sleep the entire night, questions eating your inner soul because Namjoon your best friend for 8 years, phones you every morning before you drop Hyeon to school and whether you said no to him for conceivably thousands of time, that you'll drop your kid to school, he still expects perhaps one day you'll let him, but latterly he ain't called you once. And you vow to yourself if today too he won't, you'll despite everything.

Kim Namjoon, where will you inaugurate him? There's only a beginning point, and you could purely start word-for-word about him but no final page for his efforts, love, respect, and support for you, it's something you have been subjected to a lot of instances where his efforts, love, care, and support for you only increased tripartite. There's only an open door in your heart for him but closed when he carved his room in there, and now he's been living there for 8 years.

How you two met was indeed one of the two, best parts, of that university.

You two met at New York University 8 years ago to be exact, both from the same place Ilsan in Goyang, Seoul, South Korea, albeit never met each other, registered for the same program in uni, attended the same classes, but never spoke to each other. It was one day when you dashed to the class and took a seat beside him, horrified by the professor that if he didn't let you in like the other day he did with one of your class fellows, but the sigh of solace left your lips when you saw your professor was late for the first time in 3 months, hah!

You're somebody who never initiates a conversation with someone whether known or unknown, and you would have never known him if he wouldn't offer you his bottle of water, "Drink it, the professor would be late fifteen minutes", you were zoned out until you heeded his deep baritone voice which startled you. You blinked owlishly when you saw his hand stretched out the bottle in front of you.

"Thank you", barely two words you managed to choke out, after taking two sips, you handed the bottle back to him. Still today you laugh at your naivety, how you treated him the first day you two met, though you two used to gawk at each other, yet never persuaded to exchange a word or two. But you remember how your inner self lauded the Lord, for arriving late to the class. If In case you were on time that day maybe... You'd have perched on your regular seat, and again you two would have been eyeing each other from east to the west of your class, and never would have been friends. That was day one of your friendship.

"Uh-- sorry but would you mind walking with me to the library, umm after this class," taking a view of the watch on his wrist as he puffs out a breath, "uh, Just for the group project, if you already are in some group then there's no rub. I'm still looking for a group--"

"Oh, no issue, I can connect y'know", why are you feeling so diffident in front of him, looking everywhere but him, tracing circles on your palm midst talking to him, "I-- uh I too am not in any bunch, so let's do this then?" You harrumph, rubbing your sweaty palms on your thighs.

And you smack your head and snappily shut your eyes at the remembrance, of how shy you were beside him, but not now, now you two are akin to birds of a feather flock together.

"Great, then," he said with a dimpled smile.

His dimpled smile from ear to ear and the dips on his cheeks, and the crinkles near his crescent eyes looked so adorable on him. Not to mention his eyes are like a crescent moon, you could even draw his picture with closed eyes. The picture of his face is engraved in the back of your head.

Those days with Namjoon were flooded with solace, giggles, and serenity until one glossy day turned grey when you met Hyeon's father - Jace, at that university the first and last awful and guiltiest memory at uni.

But why are you even calling him your child's father, ever he said was, one thing for your kid, that he's not his. No, not again this pang in your chest.

You met Jace in the second year of your university. Not to mention the initial months of your relationship with him were all glitter and gold. You both enjoyed your university life like a grad student usually does. Being at frat parties was a new norm for a girl from a small town. Being at pubs, getting some Dutch courage, getting totally jaked at those darty parties, and not least of all out for the count.

Honestly, you're not confident about all those darty party nights with Jace, the negative behaviour of yours, a post-break syndrome after being utterly drunk as you fail to remember the night's episodes. But where you still hung up on is Namjoon never attended such parties, maybe because Jace was with you and protected you? Perhaps he never preferred Jace because of his d2 group in Namjoon's words - douchebag drunkard group, who either would be bathing in alcohol or would be soliciting some women in pubs or frat parties.

So your only best friend wanted to stay off from you and your nerd ex like rigidly stayed away by a country mile.

It's been 5 years since Hyeon's birth which adds, that you never met your ex ever again, what you went through after Jace became acquainted with the fact that you were pregnant, still haunts you. Not that you never wanted Hyeon, but after your ex was subjected to the reality that you were pregnant, he cut all the cords with you. Jace left you, made up the false assumptions in his mind, about you're not pregnant because of him, no, no you recall back to his words by heart - "This ain't my kid, it's your best friend's or whoever you're sleeping with, WHORE!!" The ache earned by the slap of his words is still in your heart, he chuckled, dark eyes wandering over your body, and left. Making all the promises void leaving your heart barren. But you wished for once his words were true, about Namjoon as your child's father.

You look at Hyeon sleeping soundly beside you, he so looks akin to his father by his looks but his heart is purely like Namjoon. He looks so glorious just like sunshine whirled your miserable life into a garden full of lifelike and scented blooms. Jace only gave you awful memories - nightmares, but your baby is the best gift, and besides the tragic past with Jace, everything fades away with Hyeon and Namjoon by your side.

You are grateful to your best friend that he never gave up on you and stayed with you in the rain and shine, life is not always about sunshine and glitters but with him, it really was and still is!!

Whether Namjoon isn't your child's father, he never lets you feel like you would ever need Jace. Driving you to the hospital, discussing your health with her, eyeing your every med, not letting you attend the classes, even writing notes for you. Who so ever will marry him, gonna be a lucky girl, he's the ideal man. You never felt you were a single parent of your child, never. Maybe a father too won't do what he did for you and Hyeon. Honestly even Hyeon never asked about his father, maybe Namjoon's presence was only equal to his father.

Your child's question - on last Saturday's dinner with him, is the clue.

Perhaps, a father figure is important whether you play the mother and father's part in your child's life, there still would be room left.

You do want to confess your feelings to Namjoon. However, at the same time, you do not want to waste his life because of you and your kid.

And even if you envision this, you do get scared what if he said no, or that the room in his heart is already engaged? but it haunts you in case he doesn't reciprocate what you feel for him. That is the reason why you asked about Ji-a that dinner night. What frightens you the most is not being rejected but him distancing himself from you after your confession... That's still okay but you can't see your kid and your best friend staying away because that would be a fate thousand times worse than death.

Your overthinking took the best of you, it's currently 6 am you didn't shut your eyes for a moment. The alarm buzz makes Hyeon a little startle, so you quickly shut it. His tiny arms tighten their grip on your arm. You silently giggle at your baby's movement, as you kiss him on the forehead, ruffling his hair ever so lightly.

He shortly unfolds his eyes, "mom," he softly murmurs.

"Yes, my angel."

"Mom, Joonie will come" he manages to let those words out blinking his eyes to dust away the sleep and watch his mom's face.

"What? Baby sleep for a few more minutes,"

"No, I have to get ready for my school mom, Joonie is coming to pick me up for school," he smiles midst rubbing his eyes from the back of his hand to wipe away the slightest sleep left in his eyes.

"Oh, baby", you hug him tightly leaving kisses all over his face, "but he didn't phone me, baby"

"Mom, Hyeon called him," he points at you, "your phone," he chuckles at your baffled face, "hyeon told him if he will not come to pick me up for school," his eyes are on your night tee button which glitters under the dim light as he toys it, "then Hyeon will find a new best friend."

You chuckle and place a kiss on his forehead, at least your kid isn't like you, save for eating doughnuts and whatever sweet hooks his eyes, let alone unable to keep things in his heart, and you're delighted with him today.

"Then get ready for school."

Hyeon is quick at getting things done, maybe it's Namjoon's influence, sticking around him, eating occasionally sleeping, and repeating, under his friendship, is why he's fitting in the same frame as Namjoon.

It's nearly 8 am you assume, and Hyeon's school time is 9. Hyeon is chomping on grapes, as your eyes are fixated at the entrance of your wee apartment which you could only afford to live in with your baby let alone you have been staying here since you flooded back to Seoul.

You left your main door unlocked for Namjoon, waiting for him, as you're barely focusing on anything else.

There's a knock at the door initially, and your eyes spring instantly from your phone to the direction of the knock followed by a creaking sound of the wooden door being opened.

"Joonieee," Hyeon squeals as he jumps off his skyscraper chair, his voice muffles because of the grape in his mouth.

Namjoon sinks to the floor, and outstretches his arms to hug the kid scurrying toward him, and hugs him tightly placing kisses all over his face and you gush at the scene in front of you, of the two main characters of your life. Their giggles, flood your mini apartment with light and serenity that soothes your heart.

"Piggyback me now," Hyeon whines.

Namjoon giving Hyeon a piggyback... It's a norm between them. When so ever Namjoon visits, he parades straight to Hyeon's room and gives him a piggyback ride to the living room.

Is there anything Namjoon denied Hyeon? No. Hyeon really does know how to bring his friend to his heels.

Will he, right now? Conceivably no!!

Because before you even think of an answer, he gives Hyeon a piggyback ride to the couch.

You glance at him, but he only avoids your gaze. You swore you won't ever poke tease at him about Ji-a or another girl. It was a colossal blunder that evening and the least he could do is flash a smile!?... this is something you didn't save at least he could return a smile to you!! Annoyance bubbles inside you, as you narrow your eyes at him and cross your arms under your soft bosoms, rise.

Fine, he's being tough... Then I'm the toughest.

You parade toward your kitchen to prepare some tea for him and ramen for your baby. This Namjoon is not your best friend anymore, he's Hyeon's best friend now. The way his face glows merely talking to your kid tells a lot. At least for Hyeon's sake, he's here after five days. But why are you jealous? He's only talking to your kid but why is he so low?

They are relaxing on the couch, Hyeon sitting close to Joon.

"Hey Joonie", his soft baby-like voice sounds so dull in the morning.

"Yes, my little angel", remote in his hand and eyes on the TV, surfing Hyeon's favourite movie minions... And probably it's the 50th time today for him watching minions with the kid.

"I do not want to watch a movie", he crosses his arms and knits his brow in unison.

"Why?" Namjoon frowns as his finger halts on the remote button he places it aside because it's so unwonted apathy on Hyeon's face.

Hyeon looks in your direction before speaking, "Promise you won't tell mom!" He impetrates, His eyes zoned out, on the floor, perhaps mind on whatever he's been thinking.

Not wanting to waste a second, Namjoon blurts, "I promise." He leans closer to him, picks him up, and straddles him on his lap. "Tell me"

"My friend Ji-woo, said Geon is her best friend and I'm not." He pouts as he hugs Namjoon burying his face, against his chest.

Namjoon chuckles placing a kiss on his hair he pats Hyeon's back, "this was the serious thing you wanted to tell."

"Yes, she's my very good friend Namjoon," he stretches himself out to catch a glimpse of Namjoon, as he continues, "it's complicated."

He chuckles again, age just five but thinks like a fifty. But at some point, Namjoon too felt the same.

Does he still feel the same after these years?

Does he still love your sapphire eyes, which he fell in love with?

Hyeon's eyes are Sapphire too, and radiant like you.

Does he still want to spend the rest of his life with you even after you are a mother of a child?

Does he need to remind himself why is he still single?

Or is he waiting for someone who perhaps never loved him or will never love him??

"What are you boys chattering ... I too want to know", you asked aloud from the kitchen and startled him the messed-up questions which were already jumbled up are now whirled up like a Bermuda triangle... consuming him.

"Nothing mom, we can't disclose. It's our secret, right Namjoon", Hyeon questions, placing his tiny hand on Namjoon's cheek whilst poking his index on his deep dimples, as Namjoon titters at Hyeon's baby-like voice.

"it's hollow," he scowls, poking both indexes on either of his dimples, "Joonie, your cheeks"

"Heyyyy, told you to call him uncle", you yell at your kid.

And they snubbed you, again babbling about something which now looks suspicious to you, yet you are here in the kitchen preparing tea for Namjoon and ramen for boys.

Whilst yelling at your kid, you burnt your index, as you shriek yanking back your hand, and on spur of the moment, you suck your index - a reflexive response.

He looks at you, standing in the kitchen, face scarlet and a finger in your mouth. With due consideration, he gently places Hyeon on the couch and dashes hotfoot towards you. Taking your hand under his custody, he - on autopilot - sucks your index which was in your mouth a moment ago. His eyes looking darkly, deeply, into your eyes with something unfathomable which you don't understand but gives you wintery shivers down to your spine.

"Ar-- are you mad at me?" You stutter, at the nearness between you two, your heart is pounding at the speed of light years. Oh, my god. You in a jiffy, look at Hyeon, and he's eyeing you two with a scowl on his baffled face, surely he is out of depth. You hastily take a step back.

"PUSHED TO VIOLENCE MAD" he declares, dark eyes still not leaving you, peeping oh-so-wildly into your soul.

"But why", you murmur, managing to choke out, your eyes flutter.

"Where was your damn mind y/n?" He hisses with his gritted teeth, your eyes wandering across his honey tone skin glowing in sunlight that seeps through the window and meets his soft petal-like skin as your hands are hungrily desiring to nuzzle him, craving to feel him.

"Jooniee," Hyeon calls, annoyance dripping from his voice, "what are you two doing there" he quizzes you two, and in a flash look at Joon and a mysterious grin on the corner of his mouth.

"Coming", he let out, looking at you with his sexy grin.

Does he smile like this or it's just you, noticing it right now? He looks handsome today, Is he really single? or not? because of how such a beautiful-young-rich man like him is? how has no one ever proposed to him or approached him? maybe someone must have, surely proposed to him and this idiot would have rejected her like he always had. Namjoon with someone else, this picture in the back of your dense head, who's not you is undeniably painful, your heart is burning with just a mere image of him with someone else! What will happen if that image will pop out someday out of nowhere, what if one day you'll meet the love of his life, who, beyond a shadow of a doubt, is not YOU.

He claps in front of your eyes, "hey, I'm talking to you, where is your mind y/n", as your eyes flutter and instantly you focus on his being.

"Oh, Joon, I'm sorry.... yea maybe I'd take an off from work, today."

"Hey, are you okay?"

"Yea, yea, I'm fine," you nod. "Just drop him today, if that's okay."

"This is what I came for. don't worry." he pauses, "I'm leaving to drop Hyeon to school, okay?" He traces your cheeks with his thumb and nods. "Are you sure, you're fine?"

"Yes 100%." you nod.

He places a gentle kiss on your forehead, a glow of warmth at the junction of your skin, under his touch. he nods, as he parades back to the couch.

"Come on Hyeon, will talk on our way. It's getting late"

"But Joonie your tea and, Hyeon's ramen," you stroll out of the kitchen and hand Hyeon his bento box.

"I'll be back y/n, don't worry about the kid we'll get something on our way!!!" He stretches out his hand towards Hyeon, as he holds his and the boys parade out of the apartment.

You plop down on the couch, and you hear a whisper from your right - what the hell was that y/n, oh my god. What Hyeon will think of you two, no no no.

Then the voice from your left utters - so what Hyeon too want him as someone more than a friend, maybe father.

Yea fair enough.

The voice from your right - do you too want him as Hyeon's father.

Then the voice from your left - Nah, not only as Hyeon's father!

Oh god, shut up!!!

"Joon left his bag here, probably because he's coming back." You, in a tick, remember about the novel you gave him last week, as he said he'll return in 2 days, and as said you two are meeting after a long five days, so you assume he presumably has read it. You lean closer to the bag and pick it up. You open it, searching for your book.

But you find something - more - interesting, which you thought you won't ever find it. It's the same eight years old diary which he used to hide from you, which you, one of those fine days found, not found - honestly, got your hands on, and you were just a second ago that he caught you and took rkive into his possession. It's still the same, just a little scratch on the borders, and you take a sharp intake of breath, it smells like him does he keep it with him, ever?

It's a white diary with dark blue on the south of it, with rkive written in black bold characters just on the top of the blue border.

You open it, the itchiness in your hands to open it right away and read all 500 pages in a shot, you jump over to the last page... He still writes, pages are blank at the end of it. Calm down - the voice inside of your head yells at you, with wide eyes.

Yes, she's right you need to calm your nerves babe, you rise from the couch and make your way to your room. But you halt in the between, catch a glimpse of the diary in your hand... It's wrong to read someone's secret journal.

The voice from your left howls into your ear - it's okay he's not someone for you.

And the voice from your right mumbles into your ear - what if it was your diary in someone's hand?

You pause and veer around to place it back in its place. But you hear a creaking sound of your apartment door, rather than keeping it back into his bag, just after you catch a glimpse of Joon, closing the door behind him, you whirl around - hot foot, and like hell for leather, you strut into your room, you bury the diary under your pillow and parade back to the living room.

"What happened, why are your top pale", he moves closer to you and traces your lips with the bend of his index, his eyes filled with desire are on your lips, he leans down, closer to you, but halts looking back into your eyes, as he shuts his eyes for a second and when he opens, the emotions you saw barely a second ago, faints.

He harrumphs, running his fingers through your hair, eyes not leaving you... But then he traces your lips with the back of his thumb, as he takes the tendrils of your hair around your lips and gently tugs them behind your ear. You shut your eyes, your heart thumping at his touch and a low moan slips your mouth, you angle your head to your left. His eyes land on your exposed neck and he a groan leaves his lips.

He harrumphs again taking a step back from you, "oh, office", eyes everywhere but you.

"Oh, yeah, uh-- I'm not going."

"Are you okay? I mean if you want I can stay with yo--"

"No, I mean I do want you to stay here, with me but you should really go to the office", you nod, a faint smile on your lips, " you should go Joon... I'm fine, if possible do visit again before going to your place."

"Yea I'll. And don't worry about Hyeon... I'll pick him up ok", he places his palm on your cheeks as you nod.

He gives you your favourite, dimpled smile.

And he leaves.

You make your way to your room, plop down on your bed take out his diary to read. It smells homey - the diary smells like cinnamon - like him. Finally, you're diving into his diary. "It's wrong I know but still I want to read it, sorry Joon but if you hadn't snatched it from my hand then possibly I wouldn't be doing this." You puff out a breath.

You open it, and the first page says... "You should not read someone's diary and if you're, then give it back to me and if I'm not there wait for me, I'll presumably come back to find it. Thank you."

You laugh uproariously, actually, you shriek with laughter, "Sorry Joonie I didn't tumble under your trap".

You flick to the next page, "Honestly it's wrong if you're still reading, but if you decide to stick on reading it till the last, then let me tell you something- one -- you can not tell anything to her. Two -- it's going to be exhausting because it's BORING. Thank you".

"WHAT IS THERE IN THIS? now, the chances of me not reading it are zero, Joonie, and blame yourself for this, THANK YOU," you yell.

You turn to the next page, "it's something I never really shared with anyone in my life and maybe will share it in the future with her someday(04.15.2014). Change in plan maybe it'll be just between me and this diary, but I hope to tell her someday okay but genuinely speaking I won't(11.05.2014)."

"Why did he cut that line? 11.05.2014 the day Jace proposed to me!! But what else happened that day, I remember he was with me and was fine too."

P 1: I never imagined writing a diary out of nowhere, but there's a reason why am I writing this.

So, it was my first day at the uni, I saw someone, though I don't know her name, she's the reason I am holding a pen in hand.

"He never spoke to me about someone, and why he didn't wish to let me know?"

P 5: I saw her today, again, she was sitting in the last seat at the corner of the lecture room. I couldn't take my eyes off her. She looked lovely in beige, I really wanted to confess to her, how pretty that colour looks on her, but she's too shy and I couldn't tell her.

A scowl takes its place on your face like a permanent resident. And your heart is thumping now, at his notes.

P 11: I saw her today, she has the most joyful and adorable smile. I was mad about something which right now I don't remember, and she's to blame for that, it's her gorgeous smile.

You flick through the next few pages, and you couldn't wait to know the name of the person he's been writing to, since day 1 of his uni.

P 57: I guess, I like her. She was gazing at me, but when I saw her, she swivelled her head away. Does she feel the same? But the negative point - is we both don't know the names of each other. But I think she knows mine. That day in class, the professor called out my name, so presumably, she knows.

You close the diary, anxiety is eating you up. "He literally wrote every fucking day about that girl."

Then the voice from your left interrupt - read it, maybe, you'll find the girl's name.

You open the diary again.

P 101: 07.24.2014, I'll remember forever more, my heart never jumped like today, and my hands, are still as warm as a hot spring. no... not running a fever.

She just came, more like blew in unexpectedly, I was reading something which all the appreciation goes to her as I can't remember anything, I'm confident.

I asked her to walk with me to the library and on our way, we chatted like we already knew each other, and got wind of the fact that she too is from my hometown.

It felt surreal beside her, never felt like this before, and honestly do not know what it is but maybe this is what I was waiting for my whole life. Don't want to sound sugary but she's the one I want to roll over to in the middle of the night and wake up next to her diurnal. We didn't talk much but I'm clear.

I swear I have never been so sure about something or someone in my entire life

And yes finally got to know her name, y/n, with bright sapphire blue eyes.

You shut the diary with a loud thump, and bring it close to your heart as you shut your burning eyes, a warm tear escapes your eyes. Stupid idiot nerd what not, he deserves every single... Oh, Joonie why didn't you let me know? You open your eyes wiping away your tear with the back of your hand, and you open the book again.

P 130: We just met a few months ago, but feels like we know each other, for a long time. I wish to stay by her side for a lifetime. A smile tingles upon my lips, at the thought of our friendship.

P 139: when my phone's screen lights up with her name, so does my heart and my eyes like sun rays on my face, bestowing nothing but joy.

P 148: I didn't know the meaning of happiness until I met her, her smile warms my soul like a sun in the winter mornings, like a warm blanket on a cold night. Until I saw her and now I'm unable to find a difference.

P 163: today we both visited the library.

I saw a girl over there, sitting in the corner while reading a book. It was raining like heavily, and the content smile on her face was like she finally feels at home, and safe.

I guess y/n, must be my library, my halt from meandering outside in the rain. The home I've been looking for forevermore is beside me.

"I dared myself to read this, if I didn't maybe I wouldn't get the heed of not only his but my feelings too. He sure is dumb, but I'm not. He sure took years and maybe will take forever to let it out, I won't and I can't. But before that, I need to know what he feels about me now."

P 178: we went to the cafe today, and she looked pretty in that beige dress.

I have been praying for her, for what feels like forever!!

P 196: Everyone told me I deserve better, it was okay for everyone else to say. But she too said it, she murmured into my ear, when we were in class, that I deserve better and Ara is fine. The funny thing is I don't even know who Ara is! I know, I deserve better, but I don't want better. I want her.

P 204: Oh, now I feel there's no need to even write ever again in this diary. She was the light in my dark life. She who was the sun to my winter mornings is now with someone else, yes she deserves better. It's my mistake I should have confessed.

P 205: writing after 3 years, just to keep this memory between the pages. She told me she was pregnant, and I'm more than happy.

P 263: what is tougher than a human heart, which shatters over and over and regardless of pain still lives. I'm the evidence. He left her yet her heart yearns for him.

P 278: Today we visited the doctor for her routine check-up. She said she isn't willing to have this baby and honestly it broke me to pieces. I wish I could tell her how much I love her and want not only her but her baby too. I wish to love them till my last breath.

Why I overlooked, his affection. How can I be so stupid?

You recall your memories, of when you were pregnant.

"I'm just a call away y/n, can call me at 3 in the morning I'll be there, please do not stress over things that weren't meant to be."

Just one call of yours used to shake him up. You two visited the doctor together even though you told him to stay off, pushed him away because it was your problem you wanted to deal with it alone, yet he never left your side.

"I'm not leaving, I can't see you like this, alone at this deserted apartment, where you two lived.... No y/n you're coming with me, I have a spare room at my place. I'll be content seeing you safe next to me."

"Joon I'm okay, really, I can stay he--"

"No, you're coming with me."

Even stayed up with you for nights, didn't let you attend the classes, wrote not only his but your notes too, and fought for you when you weren't there.

Took proper care, he even memorized your meds on the tongue and learned the dates of your routine check-ups, fruits, soups, juice every other basic need of yours, was his command. He did everything that a father should do, which perhaps is the only justification for why he loves Hyeon so much.

Nights when you cried over your ex, yet lied to him, that this is only a hormonal reaction but a little did you know about him, but he sure knew every reason behind your genuine or phoney smile, every single reason behind your single teardrop.

"Listen y/n, I know I have been reciting this for months but here again I'm going to say, this time not for you for ours. I -- I mean you-- your baby. I-- I want you to be strong y/n. You're going to be a mother but crying like an infant." He wipes away your tears whilst leaning to kiss you but halts and ruffles your hair.

"Heyyy Joonie", you hit his chest.

"No, but seriously, do you want me to kill that nerd? See y/n I can!! and I'll if you allow me. I'm very much y'know skilled, uh competent, even proficient," he sums his abilities on his fingers, and you giggle at his naivety, "not lying I hold a black belt in Judo and earned one in Karate too, he doesn't stand a chance in front of your best friend", he dusts off his palms as of stroking off dirt and crosses his arms around his chest.

"So dramatically proud you are, Joon", Now you're laughing uproariously, in reflex your hand finds its purchase on your middle, and he instantly notices.

"Hey, are you okay?" he immediately holds you, his eyebrows furrowed at your hand's gesture, but you're still laughing.

"Joon, I'm really fine, you should have actually played Mr. bean. where were you back then?"

"Was probably waiting for your landing."

"I love your face glowing with that peaceful smile y/n, do not cry over some nerd. I'm here with you today, what if someday, I'm not there beside you, to wipe away your tears, which merely shed but if they do, the sole reason is men." You hit his shoulder, "stop it Joonie we're friends till the end, do you get it you asshole? don't you dare say that shit again."

But he wants his last sleep beside you, his last breath beside you. His ever so firsts to be by your side and ever so lasts by your side, this is what he feels for you.

"And do you know, your taste in men is horrible, I don't trust you in that process?"

"I HATE YOU KIM NAMJOON."

You look down with teary eyes, p 278, and you skip to p380.

P 380: she deserves every star in her life, to glitter for her the way my eyes sparkle for her.

P 485: feels like we are two stars floating in the universe, yet light years away. She sure is with me but feels like those two stars, babbling on either side of the moon, neither I can reach where she is, nor she can where I'm. But, my heart cherishes every second, every moment, every single breath with her. I wish stars could collide someday, and we'll meet eventually.

P 525: a week to go, I told her it's a boy, and she said no.

P 540: It's a boy, we named him Hyeon. Honestly, I don't think I'll ever love my kid as I love Hyeon. And he has Sapphire eyes like his mom, another reason to love him even more.

You heard the clanking sound coming from your living room you shut the diary, wipe away your tears and hide it under your pillow.

You strut out of your room, "Oh you guys are back." And in the twinkling of an eye, you felt your cheeks warm, when Namjoon's eyes meet yours, like all the blood rushing up to your cheeks.

Perhaps your friends were always right about you two - that you two would make an aesthetically pleasing couple.

"Hey, come here,"

Heat pooling in the pits of your stomach, you sure did feel all of this before, but to be precise you're catching every reaction of your body, now. Those three words are just not mere words, they did something to you, the warmth between your legs is the evidence of those three words. You are eyeing him, hungrily, stop drooling you fucking idiot.

"Mom do you remember, it's Joonie's birthday tomorrow."

"No, Hyeon your mom won't--"

"Yes baby I know, there's something for him," you look at him, "will you stay with us today?"

He looks into your eyes, the glow in them, which he purely saw for Hyeon, is it for him? his brows knit together, "yes anything for you," he pauses eyes wandering across your face, "you two."

Your kid is smarter than you, when you secretly told him you need to prepare a cake for his birthday, he told you his plan, which is why they both went out, and here you're placing the cake inside the refrigerator.

You know he won't take a step forward, it's only you who could do such bravery. It's his birthday and a new start to every perfect day.

You make your way to your room to find a perfect dress for his birthday night.

You're wearing a black cold shoulder ruched flounce sleeve bodycon dress, the silk fabric just ends at the curve of your cheeks, and you complete it with a black thong and yes no bra today. It's normal for you to doll yourself up, whenever you three move out, for dinner, parties, or friends' weddings. But today is, no normal day because you have never spread out as far as to shave, lest yknow.

Brushing out your tangles, your makeup is tastefully done as you're touching up some lipstick - let aside hungrily awaiting for him to smear it, spraying some perfume all over your body, you bolt out of your room. looking around your living room, to be precise it seemed hideous barely an hour ago and now it's looking nothing but cheerful as you beautifully decked out your place with balloons on the floor which you assure Hyeon would low-key love more than your birthday boy, with a cake on the table in the middle of the living room.

There's a rattling sound of keys behind the door, and you know they're here. The front door opens, and you find Hyeon and Namjoon, standing at the door, Hyeon couldn't help but claps at the decor his eyes twinkles at the sight of balloons all over the floor, as he lets go of Joon's hand and take off to pick the balloons, but what you take a gander at Namjoon, not saying much but you can tell, he could cry any moment, he's eyeing the whole room, then looking at you, your heart is beating at light year.

He makes his way to you, "there are still three hours left for my birthday", his eyes wander across your body, and you silently praise the lord for the dress you found in your closet.

"Yes, I know Joonie, but Hyeon is really excited about your birthday, and in an hour you'll find him out for the count," you both laugh, looking at him playing with the balloons, his chuckle is canorous to your ear filling your apartment.

"Fair enough", he paused, "by the way you-- you're looking gorgeous y/n"

Three cheers finally my man noticed, "oh, thank you, I thought you won't ever notice."

"you already think so low of me, y/n," you see a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"if so, what else do you like about me then," without a shadow of a doubt, you take a step towards him, as he too leans closer to you.

"Mom, I love the cake, it's looking yummy." You look at your baby.

"Oh, did you forget about Hyeon", he grins, teasing you to the core.

"Isn't it obvious today?" you take a step back.

"y/n are you flirting." he takes a gander at you and smiles mischievously.

"No", you stand tiptoe and lean closer to his ear, and warmly without qualms, "wanna be your sugar baby", you puff out a warm breath that gives chills down to his south as his tool twitches, "this is what I call is - flirting, Mr Kim, and I strongly believe you should take some classes, yknow? from me!!" you take a step back and make your way to your kid, who could sleep any moment.

you meet Namjoon's eyes, as he shares a knowing look, that he should probably slice the cake, "Hey my baby angel, would you cut the cake with me", he asks Hyeon.

"yess" Hyeon cheers excitedly.

You three celebrated his birthday like you have been doing for years now.

As you foretold, Hyeon is now in deep slumber. you pick him up, "uh-- you can sleep in my room--"

"No, I'll sleep with him today if that's okay with you?"

"Yea sure"

it's 1am, and you're tossing and turning, unable to sleep at the thought of Namjoon sleeping under the same roof, just a few meters away.

You are wearing a red drop shoulder belted satin lounge robe, with a matching thong and no bra. Craving for his touch makes you nothing but more frustrated, and your mouth dry.

you pick up your mobile, this should end today, he's an epitome of shyness, you want him deep yet harsh inside you, and you're seconds away to strut out of your room and dashing inside the room next to yours, and straddling his saddle, but you can't he's sleeping with your baby. So, you just text him to check if he's still awake.

you 1:10 am- I have a little secret, which I think, you should know.

Joon 1:11 am- you still awake? And what secret?

You 1:13 am- yes, and looks like we're awake for the same reason. And about that secret. Check your bag perhaps you should be missing something.

Joon 1:20 am- did you swipe away my diary from the bag, when I was away from home? Don't you dare read it!!!

You 1:22 am- over and done with it.

Joon 1:26 am- I'm sorry it was all in the past y/n, I promise it's nothing like that now.

You 1:27 am- SAD. Perhaps I'm alone in this.

Joon 1:29 am- you too?

Joon 1:29 am- I mean you too feel what I feel for you?

Joon 1:30 am- you don't understand how much I feel for you y/n, if you're playing the clown then don't.

You 1:34 am- save for I'm not, and there's something I low-key want you to know beforehand if you do feel for me. Joon there's nothing behind the scenes, I, yknow I cry often even if Hyeon gets some silly injury, though he laughs, and I'm the one who cries. I cry over things that have hurt me in the past, or things I'm so in love with. Yknow I'm afraid of being left, afraid of not being good enough, a good mother, a good daughter, and a good friend. I can actually count millions of things that I feel hostility toward myself. If we're going to be a thing in the future you should know that even if you'll tell me you love me countless times, I'll still be afraid of you leaving me. Jace broke my heart into bits, just don't blame yourself.

There's a knock at your bedroom door, he slides it open when he finds it unlocked. He peeps inside before entering, entering your room he looks at you, "y/n when will you, stop thinking so low about yourself", his eyes hungrily wander across your body, and you find him in waist shorts.

His eyes travel to your hardened peaks covered with red satiny material which he wants to slip you out from it, he harrumphs distracting himself, but something catches his eyes, his eyes travel along your smooth long legs on display and halt at your sheer red thong.

"I uh--" he looks away from your figure, eyes on the floor filled with serene moonlight, "y/n, nobody's perfect, even I'm not, you know every deep and dark arcane of my past..... I'm here to tell you that I don't care, I fell in love with you, not with your perfection. Since I fell in love, since then I love every crack in your skin and all your freckles. I didn't meet someone like you," he looks back at you, as he walks closer to you and settles beside you taking a hold of your hand in his, he places a soft kiss on the back of your hand.

"I'm grateful," you take out the diary, "that I found this," and hand him.

"Oh thank you I thought I won't get it back.... and did you just say found? Really?"

"Yaahhhh!!"

"I probably wasn't going to because of the perfumes it holds of its owner, but seems like my bed would smell like him from now on, so it's fair enough to return it, no?"

He gives you his coy smile as he nods, "rather my bed will smell like you because I won't let you and our kid stay here," he parks a soft kiss on your forehead, "and what are we going to tell Hyeon?"

"That we accepted his proposal and now he'll call his best friend his dad!" You chuckle.

In a shot, he looks at you, a puzzled look blanketing his face, "I still can't believe this, that all these years you too felt the way I feel for you, why you didn't you --"

"Same question I'm hurling on you," your eyes are hungrily tracing his lips as you tightly grip the sheet under your fist and he notices you.

Without losing away any minute he leans close to you, smacking his lips on yours as your breath hitches at his sudden whirlwind of ardor, as his strong arms wrap around your waist, holding you tightly against his body and in a trice, he straddles you on his lap whilst kissing you breathlessly. your moan melts away into his mouth. you clung onto him, arms tangled around his neck.

His hand at the small of your back roughly snakes under your red satin robe. he slides his hand inside your thong, your skin flush at his touch, digging his nails into your cheeks for support. he's gently kissing you without letting you go but oh so rough on your body. sucking his lower lip, as you slowly tug his lip between your teeth leaning back to bruise it. you both moved apart breathlessly panting, hungrily looking into each other's eyes, travelling back to lips. you fiddle with the hem of his shirt, hiking it up, he's smirking looking at your eyes hungrily savouring his exposed chest.

you feel him grow under your heated core. he tugs at your robe belt as it slips down and pools around your butt. his sinful eyes filled with lust darkly eye your bosoms, he tenderly gropes your breast, he cranes his neck a little, enveloping your buds between his lips flicking it with his tongue as he takes it between his teeth, playfully biting it, your grip on his shoulder tightens dipping nails into his skin.

moans escaping from your lips making him groan, his warm breath hitting your bosom sending tingles on your skin, he places his palm gently over your lips and hushes you, "if you don't want to wake up our kid," retracting his hand from your lips, our kid that word did something like something incomplete is now perfectly complete.

He gently hurls you on the bed, you want to feel his body, you want him to kiss every inch of your skin, bite you and bruise you, your drunk eyes watch him, pulling down his waist shorts, freeing his shaft. He grabs his shaft using his large hands, and jerks himself for few times indirectly letting you know to get ready, low groans peep from his lips.

You gape at your man seductively, how he jerks his member in his hand, growing harder in his hold your stomach turns at his hard length. Fucking his fist in a pace, eyes never leaving you as he smirks at you drooling over his hard shaft. The urge inside you to take him in deep inside you, and fuking him much - very much better.

As he shoves his free hand between your legs, he spreads them apart.

He parks himself between your legs. His eyes on your bruised bosom with hickeys only make him want to bruise them more. He hooks his finger to the waistband of your thong and slides it down, your breath hitches at your exposed body in front of him as you close your eyes in self-consciousness, he gasps at his sight and leans down taking a lungful of your flavour as he parks a wet kiss on your heated - bare - wet pussy "beautiful" he murmurs.

His hands travel from your knees slowly to your lips, as he traces your delicate skin and dips his thumb in your slick, a low moan escapes your lips before you bite them to melt them inside your lips, "Joon, I can't wait, fuck me, baby", your voice seems to lower, sounding more like smooth whiskey and he knows you're only trying to make it hard for him.

"You want me to fuck your tight pussy, raw, that desperate huh!!"He parts your slit, as he flicks his tongue between your sensitive lips. "Don't you know how much I waited for you," without wasting another second he grabs your knees stretching them out for him, as your pussy slit opens. He grabs his hard cock, rubbing it.

Waiting for him to fuck you, you grab one of your bosoms and knead it desperately in your hold. He bends a little as his hands slide under your ass and grab them angling you for his cock, he slowly buries his shaft and your eyebrow furrow as he moves deeper and deeper inside you and halts drinking in your expressions.

He slightly pulls back then stops, and again pulls back eyeing you, "if you want, we can stop it right now baby", he leans down closing the distance between you two, his hands on either side of your head, and place a soft kiss on your forehead, you instantly open your eyes looking at him, his lips just an inch away from your lips, "no, I want you right now.... No more distance between us Joon," your hands cupping his nape to draw him closer as you park a soft peck on his lips.

He digs his fingers back into your flash, and retreats, slamming his dick back into you, as you whimper in pain, a tear escapes from your eyes. Glitters of sweat on his forehead under the dim light of your bedroom, doing no justice to how gorgeous your man is. Not only on his forehead but his chest too, deliciously sweaty. Seeing him on your top, your pussy clenches around his hard length, "baby", he groans dipping his head on the nape of your neck the warm breath breaking out goosebumps over your skin.

He doesn't stop now, his cock throbbing to match the crazy throbbing of his heart, arching your back you dip your head back into the pillow, "fuck Joon, shit.... Yeahhh babyy", you moan out loud, as he quickly kisses you nipping your lips to bite your moans.

He leans back, "baby, Hyeon wi--"

"Fuck me harder Joon," you murmur, breathlessly.

Without wasting any time, he's ramming his dick into your tight pussy again, as you grip the sheets under your skin.

The way he's making you feel, you never felt like this ever in your life though it's the first time after Jace, he too never made you as incredible as him. The way his hips are in a rhythm against yours, the pleasure making you clench around his length.

"I wanted you for so long y/n," he groans, pounding into you. "You are mine y/n, and I belong to you," your walls only clench tighter around his shaft, enveloping perfectly around his thick length.

"Yes, Joon, only you... Us baby" your breath hitches, looking at his dark eyes, you're close and you know he too is.

He groans as his knees buckle, striving to keep up the merciless rhythm, "should have confessed, before him but now I won't waste any minute", his words are only causing your walls to spasm and contract, fire in your abdomen with his words making your way to your peak.

"You can do this baby", he coos tracing your cheeks with his thumb. He could feel you close.

As your climax is near, your hips stutter against him, desperately, creating the heat and friction for the feelings and bringing you closer to your peak. You're writhing under him when you hit your orgasm, you're so wet that his thick shaft is easily sliding in and out of your pussy.

He's pushing into you inch by inch, massaging your walls slowly. He covers your mouth to hush you before emptying inside you, as your clenching walls only cause him to come inside you and fill you up to the rim.

He softens inside you, as he dips his head into the crook of your neck.

"happy birthday baby, I love you", you kiss his earlobe, panting heavily.

"I love you more..... the best birthday," he pulls back, looking deeply into your eyes, "can"t wait to see the joy in our baby's eyes".

you both chuckle, and there's a knock on the door, "oh, shit" you murmur.

Namjoon only chuckles, "seems like this is the time".

2K notes · View notes

hobistyles · 1 year

Text

Late Night Texting

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Warning/Tags: Cussing, sexting, dirty talk, oral sex (m. receiving), unprotected sex (please be smart!), smut, use of the word daddy.

A/N: Please listen to this playlist while reading this. Joon is my bias wrecker and lately he's been making me feel some type of way, so I wrote this with no intention of it having a plot!

Your phone obnoxiously vibrates. A small groan left your lips as you open your eyes. The notification interrupted your orgasm and it frustrated every part of your body that you ended up giving up, throwing your vibrator across the bed to get your phone to see who the hell could interrupt you at this time.

Joon: You up? 👀

Y/N: Leave me the fuck alone, Namjoon! You just had to bother me at this time, huh?

Joon: Oh…may I know what I interrupted?

You roll your eyes and stop responding. He knew what he was doing, but you couldn’t entertain him right now. It wasn’t because you didn’t want Namjoon to fuck your brains out, because every opportunity that you could—you would. Everything about him was so mesmerizing, especially his size. You were just mad that you didn’t finish, so everything was annoying you at this point.

Joon: If I’m correct in what I think you were doing, you know daddy can help you with that.

Fuck. He was so sexy. You bite your bottom lip and close your eyes, remembering the last time you two had a night together. How he fucked you for hours. The way his large hands wrapped around your neck like a pretty necklace. Namjoon was such a gentleman, but he fucked you like a whore, and that’s what you loved about him. Everyone thought he was so innocent, but if they only knew how he was in bed.

You give in.

Y/N: And what exactly do you think I’m doing?

Joon: Mmm, baby. Let’s not act so pure. We both know what you were doing. By the looks of it, you’re horny, I’m horny, so respectfully, let’s fuck.

You shut your legs, tightly, feeling your pussy getting wetter the more he texts you.

Joon: Let me take care of you.

Y/N: I told you to leave me alone. You tease.

Joon: Fuck it, I’m coming over. See if you have that same energy.

You giggle to yourself, getting him exactly where you wanted him. You hated to admit how much you craved Namjoon. You didn’t want to seem like every girl you’ve ever spoken to. They always ran their mouth about how hopefully one day they would be able to sleep with him. Despite all that, you knew Namjoon was yours. He always told you whenever you were ready for a relationship—he was too. To him, this was more than just two best friends having fun, it was way more intimate than that. You cared a lot about him, but your last relationship kind of ruined the view of love and a relationship for you. Regardless, he always respected that and had patience.

About 15 minutes pass up and there’s a quiet knock at your door. You quickly jump out bed, fixing your hair a bit and wrapping the ties to your robe around your waist to hide the surprise you had for him underneath. His favorite pair of lingerie. You check the peephole to confirm it was him and open the door.

“Hey baby,” he wraps his arms around your waist. “I’ve missed you.” He whispers in your ear, giving your neck a peck.

Your arms wrap around his neck as you slightly moan at the attention he’s giving your neck.

“What happened to all that shit talking over text, babe?” He chuckles, “I thought you wanted to be alone.”

“Fuck you!” You roll your eyes, letting out a slight laugh.

“If you let me in, I can get started on that,”

Both of your hands intertwine together, leading to your bedroom. You definitely had set the mood, turning on red LED lights. He locks the door behind you as you waste no time in pushing him on the bed. Tonight was about him. You crawl over to him seductively, finding the waistband to his sweats as you flip your hair to the side. The bulge peaking through was very noticeable and you knew how hard you made him. Your small hands pull down his sweatpants.

“This time I’m taking care of you, Joon.” Your eyes don’t leave his as you slowly remove your robe and throw it across the room.

“Fuck, Y/N…all this for me?” He grabs you, sitting you on top of him, his warm hands gripping your ass as he pulls you in for a heated kiss.

You pull away, “I said this time I’m taking care of you, so just relax for me, okay daddy?”

The words that came out of your mouth caused him to groan, lightly. He quickly helps you to remove his boxers, finally releasing his thick hard cock. It perfectly slapping his stomach, making him wince at how badly he needed to be taken care of. You open your mouth and wrap your lips around his tip, then fully sinking down trying your best to take all of him. Your cheeks are hallowed and the tip is now at the back of your throat. Saliva forms around your lips as your head is bopping up and down.

“Shit,” Namjoon hisses, grabbing a fistful of your hair to prevent it from being in the way. “Such a good fucking girl.”

Gagging noises fill the room and tears slowly come down your cheeks. Fluids are running down your inner thighs, practically begging to be touched. Your hands cup the end of his balls and carefully squeeze them side to side, adding more pleasure. “You look so pretty with my dick in your mouth, you know that?” Namjoon’s words make you moan, sending vibrations to his cock. You release the grip on his balls and wrap your hand around the base of his throbbing length, slowly jerking it up and down, still sucking him off. Nails clawing Namjoon’s thighs, for sure leaving marks behind. He pulls himself out of your mouth with a pop. Eyes were dark and full of lust, “open your mouth,” you do as he says, sticking your tongue out as he slaps his tip on your tongue. He gets up and motions, “come here,” you immediately get out of bed and stand in front of him.

“Get on the bed on all fours for me…show me that pretty ass, baby.”

You do as he says, while he kneels down in front of the bed. Ass all in his face. “Fuck, you’re soaked. Why didn’t you tell daddy how much your pretty pussy needed attention?” He removes your panties, throwing them on the ground.

“Joon, please.”

“Please what?”

“Please…touch…me…” you moan.

Namjoon runs his fingers on your folds, spreading your arousal evenly before spitting on your cunt. He inserts two fingers as well as his warm tongue, circling your clit.

“Oh shit, J-Joon! Feels so good…”

The gushing noises from your wetness echoed through the walls. His teeth nibble on your clit, that’s when you lose it. His fingertips brush against your g-spot, making you throw your head back as he took that opportunity to add a third finger. You wine, gripping onto the bed sheets tightly, feeling your climax coming like fireworks. Namjoon continuously flicking his tongue on your clit, persistent on pumping his fingers in and out of you.

“Baby…g-gonna cum!” You squeeze your eyes shut, “p-please let me cum!”

“Let go, baby girl.”

And with that, you release your juices all over his fingers. He doesn’t hesitate to suck all your liquids up like nectar. He stands up, giving your ass a smack, lining himself up, pumping his length and pushed his dick inside you.

“You’re so tight,” he moans, having a solid grip on your waist. Namjoon’s pace quickens, the sound of skin slapping against each other. The position making you feel every inch of him deep inside of you. White cream perfectly coating his shaft.

“Holy shit, Joon!” You scream. He grabs a chunk of your hair, only to thrust aggressively in you. Moans unable to escape your mouth. Your head is spinning and feel your second climax coming in. “Don’t stop. Please don’t stop, fuck me just like that.”

Reaching for his hand, he grabs your wrist, pinning them against your back. “You take my dick so well, so good for me. I’m gonna fuck you stupid.”

Your walls clench around his cock, making him twitch. Your back arcs and legs go weak as you reach your orgasm full on.

“Shit, I felt that!” Namjoon groans at the tightness around his cock. “I’m close Y/N, where do you want me?”

“In my mouth,”

He quickly removes himself from inside you and stands next to the bed. His large hands pumping himself in front of you. Your mouth open, patiently waiting for him to release.

“Ahh…fuck Y/N!” He moans, throwing his head back, his white warm load shooting right into your mouth, swallowing every single drop, sucking him off dry.

You giggle as you pump his length a few times before letting go.

“Come here,” Namjoon breathes, laying next to you as he wraps his arms around your waist. Your hot sweaty bodies glue together.

“That was fucking amazing, Joonie.” You lay your head on his chest, hearing his heart beat.

He laughs, finally catching his breath. “So…was this worth me interrupting you?”

“Mmm, what do you think?” You laugh, kissing his cheek.

407 notes · View notes

7ndipity · 28 days

Text

Take Care

Namjoon x Reader

Summary: Namjoon tries to remind you that looking after yourself is just as important as looking after you partner

Word Count: 1.4k

Warnings: slight angst, swearing, mentions of illness and medications, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to @coffeedepressionsoup for this request! Sorry it took me soo long to get to, I got a little stuck, so it might be a bit eh, but I hope you’ll still like it!💜

Masterlist

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“Just please make sure to look after yourself.” That was one of the top five things that Namjoon said the most to you, second only to “I love you”. It might’ve made him sound a bit like an over concerned parent sometimes, but you didn’t mind, knowing he meant well.

He had always worried about you, even before you got together, and with the past few hectic weeks of work, his concern had only worsened, but you had tried to assure him that you were doing alright and managing fine, which wasn’t entirely true, but what he didn’t know wouldn’t hurt him. He didn’t need to know about the long hours and sleepless nights to keep up with the deadlines that were rapidly creeping up on you.

Your eye twitched with fatigue as you scanned through your notes for the nith time, casting a quick glance at the clock before saving and closing your laptop, trying to push down the faint uneasy, sinking feeling in your gut, and focusing on getting ready for your evening out with Joon.

He had asked a few weeks ago if you wanted to come with him to a special art exhibition featuring one of his favorite artists, which you had readily agreed to, although currently, the idea of spending multiple hours wandering around a gallery didn’t sound ideal, but you couldn’t imagine canceling on him, knowing how much he loved getting to share his interests with you.

You were putting the finishing touches on your look when you heard him knock, smiling massively when you opened the door.

“Hi.” He said, kissing your cheek. “You look amazing.”

“Thank you, you look pretty spiffy yourself.” You teased, turning to grab your bag, pausing slightly as you were hit with a small wave of dizziness.

“You okay?” He asked.

“I’m fine, just a little tired.” You assured quickly, flashing him a quick grin, but he still frowned slightly, unconvinced.

“If you’re not feeling well, we don’t have to go-”

“No, I want to.” You interjected, stopping him. “You’ve been looking forward to this, I want to go.”

He looked like he wanted to argue with you, but he let it slide for the moment.

The majority of the night passed smoothly, you talked and laughed with his friends, earning more a few proud smiles from him, though you also noticed him periodically watching you with a cautious eye, making sure you were okay.

You’d begun to feel increasingly unwell at various points through the evening, but you’d managed to keep a calm facade for the most part, not wanting to spoil you and Joon’s evening, until you were suddenly hit with another wave of dizziness, causing your steps to falter.

You instinctively reached out for Namjoon, catching hold of his arm for support as you tried to steady yourself.

Joon immediately glanced down at you in concern, his other arm coming to wrap around your waist to hold you.

“Are you alright?!” He asked, eyeing you anxiously.

“yeah, I just feel dizzy.” You said weakly.

He instantly went into protective caregiver mode, carefully guiding you over to an empty bench in the corner of the room, bringing you some water, and feeling your forehead for any sign of fever while going through the usual list of questions.

“Did you eat today?” He asked.

“Yes.”

“Did you take your meds?”

“I-” You tried to think back through your day, but everything was a frenzied blur of work and getting ready to go out. “I might’ve forgotten it.”

“You might have forgotten?!” He asked sharply.

“I don’t know, Joon, I was busy! What does it matter?!” You snapped, not in the mood to be scolded by him.

“It matters if you get sick!” He said sternly, carefully pulling you up from your seat. “C’mon, we’re going home.”

“I’ll be fine, I just need to rest for a few minutes.” You tried to pull away from him, but the sudden movement caused another bout of dizziness to hit you, coupled this time with a touch of nausea that had you sinking back into your seat.

As soon as he saw your face lose color, every ounce of anger and frustration in his body disappeared, replaced only with worry for you.

“You’re not fine!” He said seriously. “We’re going home.”

You didn’t bother trying to argue with him anymore, feeling increasingly lightheaded and woozy, wanting nothing more in that moment than to just lay down.

Joon barely spoke on the way home, a growing sense of guilt brewing on your stomach as you watched him, his hands tight on the steering wheel as he drove.

“Joon-” You started, but he was quick to stop you.

“We’ll talk about it in the morning, okay? Right now, I just want you to rest.”

As soon as you got home, he carried you to bed, helping you change and making sure you took your medications before finally sinking into the bed, falling into a dreamless sleep almost immediately.

Joon however barely slept, waking every couple of hours throughout the night to make sure you were alright. Eventually, he gave up on sleep entirely, watching over you while you slept instead.

You looked so fragile to him like this, his mind couldn’t help wandering back to your earlier comments. How much had you been neglecting yourself recently? Were you eating properly? He knew you hadn’t been sleeping well.

Maybe he was overreacting and it was just a one off event, but it was still more than enough to scare him. He was well aware how hectic things had been lately, but he had hoped they weren’t taking such a harsh toll on you like this.

When you woke the next morning, your eyes immediately landed on his half sleeping form propped up next to you in the bed.

“Joon?” You croaked, your voice small and ragged from sleep, snapping him to attention.

“Hey, how are you feeling?” He asked softly, gently brushing your hair away from your face.

“ ‘m okay, tired.” You replied.

“That’s alright.” He smiled. “Are you hungry? I can order food. I thought about trying to cook, but I figured that might not be the best idea.”

“Yeah, probably not.” You replied with a grin, glancing around sleepily. “What time is it?” The light streaming in through the curtains indicated that it was well past your normal wake up time.

“About ten.”

“What?” You gasped, scrambling to sit up, the sudden movement causing your head to spin again.

“Careful!” He said gently, pushing you back down into the bed. “Everything’s alright. You just need to take it easy and rest.”

“I can’t, I’ve got a deadline!” You tried to sit up again, but he pressed you back down firmly. My boss is probably wondering where the hell I-”

“I already texted your manager and told them you were sick and wouldn’t be in today.” He said matter of factly.

You gaped at him. “Why would you do that?!”

“Because you need to rest.” He said, pulling you into him. “They’ll be fine, everything won't fall apart just because you took a day. You need to take time to look after yourself too, you know?”

You looked down, avoiding his eyes, the guilt from the night before bubbling back to the surface.

“I know, I just…I didn’t wanna ruin your night.” You sniffed, trying to fight back the frustrated tears that threatened to spill. “I don’t know, I’m sorry I upset you.”

He pulled you closer. “The only thing I’m upset about is how hard you’ve been pushing yourself. I know things have been tough, but I don't want you to hide from me. And I don’t want you putting everyone else ahead of you. You are far too important to ever neglect, you hear me?”

You nodded, letting Namjoon wipe away the few stray tears that slipped down your cheeks, “I didn’t mean to get so caught up, it just kinda snowballed.”

“I know, I’ve done the same thing.” He pressed a kiss to your temple. “But do you remember what you did last time it happened?”

You scoffed. “Basically kidnapped you for the weekend?”

“Yep,” He grinned. “So, consider this my payback.”

Joon helped you get settled back under the covers, resting your head on his chest, listening to the steady beat of his heart.

“Thank you Joonie.” You mumbled.

“Always.” He wrapped his arms around you. “Get some rest, Sweetheart.”

You fell back to sleep in his arms, feeling safe and at peace for the first time in weeks.

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @coffeedepressionsoup @main-bangtansmauyeondan @feminympho @a-gayish-unicorn @dfqcsqueen @mother2monsters @captainorangegoose @k4ngelz

#bts one shot #bts drabble #bts comfort #bts scenarios #bts requests #bts x y/n #bts x reader #namjoon scenarios #namjoon drabble #namjoon fluff #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x reader #bts fluff #namjoon one shot #namjoon oneshot #namjoon comfort #7ndipity

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borathae · 2 years

Text

↳ Index [Day 12 - Thigh Riding]

Pairing: soft dom!Namjoon x sub!Reader

Kinks: muscles, thigh riding, praise, good girl kink, making out, clothed sex

Wordcount: 1.7k

a/n: his legs in those pants drive me mental bruuh. Also not me once again including plot hahaha i was inspired by joon's gas station pics. You guys gon' get plot left and right i'm telling you 💜

You are kissing him, fingers tangled in his soft hair and lips so hungry for him. He tastes heavenly. Like the chocolate cake you shared mere minutes ago and which now sits forgotten and half-finished on the table. He is just far more yummy than any cake could ever be.

Especially when he is looking so mouth wateringly good in his clothes. Button up half-open with his big, muscular tits exposed and long legs in burgundy leather pants as heavy boots sit on his feet. He wore glasses once, but those are discarded on the table by now. And around his neck silver chains tangle.

His chest is covered in your hickeys and scratch marks, skin feeling so sensitive because of it. His hair is a mess from all the pulling and grabbing you have been doing. His cock’s a mess in his pants, throbbing and aching to be freed.

“Fuck baby”, Namjoon moans, breaking the kiss just to look at you, "you're so sexy like this.”

“I want you Joon”, you rasp, twisting his hair to pull him closer again, “please, let me have you.”

“Have you? But baby we’re in public”, he teases, smirking when you chase him with a whine. You weren’t in public, hidden behind your little house on your porch. But Namjoon was a tease and he loves riling you up.

“Joonie please”, you beg, squishing his cheeks, “I wanna kiss you.”

“You’re so hot baby”, he rasps in his sexiest voice, allowing you to pull him into your lips for a needy kiss.

You moan, feeding him your tongue instantly even if that makes him gasp and growl at first.

"Mhhm baby", Namjoon wraps his arm around your waist, pulling you closer to him and in the process, forcing your pussy to grind over his thigh.

“Oh god”, you whimper, looking down at where you are sitting.

Namjoon whines softly, grieving the kiss which was broken in the process. He wants to kiss you so bad.

“What’s wrong?” he asks, hand running up and down your lower back soothingly.

“That, that feels so good”, you whisper, looking up at him with sparkly eyes.

“Yeah? Then keep moving baby, keep moving”, he orders you, touching your hips just to guide your movements. Slow and smooth. Right over his big thigh.

Electricity shoots right through your body. This feels so intense. You are barely wearing any clothing. Just your panties and a short dress. Which means that you are currently feeling every movement. His thigh is so big and strong and the leather of his pants is so rough, grinding right against your clothed pussy and making her burn up.

“Yes Joon, ah”, you sigh, falling around his neck just to kiss him deeply.

Namjoon moans, getting lost in your kiss with his strong hands still holding your hips. Finally, he thinks as he kisses you back eagerly.

He fucking loves making out with you. You are always so greedy for him, moaning and sighing so sweetly that he feels the need to pick you up and never let you go. He also loves it when you sit on his lap. He feels so strong and useful whenever you decide to rest on top of him. Now bear in mind, you let him know twenty four seven that you think that he was the strongest and most handsome man in existence, but Namjoon still gets a little bit of an extra burst of excitement each time you sit on him.

You have the most perfect weight for him. He loves the feeling of your heaviness and how warm you are. Your thighs are always so soft against his own thighs and whenever you make out long enough, your pussy gets so hot and wet. Namjoon loves that shit.

You seem hellbound on getting yourself hot and wet on his thigh this evening, grinding against it quickly while moans vibrate in your chest.

You needed him all day long. Your boyfriend works down by the station. The hours are long and pay is just enough to sustain you and him, but work was fun. He liked his work, he really did. But what he loved more, was coming home to you and being able to spend time with you. You loved that part of the day the most as well.

And today you couldn’t wait to get him home with you again. Namjoon and you had an amazing morning together, filled with nothing but passion and togetherness. The memory of it left you needy for him the entire day.

"I'm so crazy for you", you rasp, grinding your hips right against a strong part of his meaty thigh, "you know that? I can’t get enough of you."

"I can't get enough of you either", Namjoon answers you, kneading your butt desperately, "shit baby, your pussy's so hot already."

"Feels so good, feels so damn good", you chant, "ah Joonie", you moan, pulling him back into a sloppy kiss.

Namjoon squeezes your ass, chasing you by sitting up more. Like this your chest is pressed right against his big pecs, feeling every moan and growl you force out of him. The long chains around his neck press right between your boobs, most definitely leaving a mark on his skin.

But Namjoon doesn’t care, forcing your hips to roll over his thigh with such vigour that you actually have to break the kiss to whimper, head falling against his shoulder.

"No no baby, look at me", he orders.

You can barely lift your head, eyes droopy from all the pleasure. Your pussy feels so, so good. Namjoon is angling your hips just right to really rub your clit. The pressure is so intense, the warmth of him adds even more pleasure to it. You love this so much while at the same time hating it for making you feel so goddamn weak.

Namjoon smiles, "there we go, such a good girl for me. You’re so pretty, don’t look away. Mhm?"

"Yes okay", you whisper, struggling with your words. Whenever he calls you his good girl you feel your entire world light up. Being good for him is the best feeling in the world.

You take over for him, keeping up the quick rhythm to chase the burning pleasure only his thigh can give you. Your knee is lodged between his legs in that position, pressing right against his cock and balls. Namjoon feels dizzy because of it, feeling just as worked up about having your thigh against him than you do.

"Good girl, my pretty good girl", he praises, running his hands up your torso until he can cup your cheeks. He runs his thumbs over your skin, making you lean into the touch with your lashes fluttering happily, "you're so, so pretty, my baby", he whispers.

"Feels so good", you answer him because quite frankly, you can’t say anything else. Namjoon is messing with your mind. The praise feels so good, his muscular thigh feels like paradise, his touch like heaven. All of it feels so goddamn good and he needs to know.

"Shit baby, I can’t get enough of you", he rasps, "keep moving, you’re doing such a great job", he praises, abandoning your cheeks just to feel up your torso.

First your shoulders and arms, then your tummy and waist. He memorises every inch of you just in case he never gets to touch you again. Not that this will ever happen. Namjoon plans to keep touching and loving you until you grow tired of it.

"So beautiful, my baby's so beautiful", he whispers, making you lower your eyes shyly.

"Joon", you keen, kissing him before he can say anything more. You kiss him oh so deep, holding him close by the back of his neck.

You scoot up on his thigh, not only making his cock grind against you even better but also your clit. Namjoon moans, tensing his thigh only to relax it a second later.

"Do that again. Please", you whimper between kisses.

"That?" Namjoon lulls, tensing his thigh only to relax it again. He repeats the movement, making his muscle shift under your sensitive pussy.

"Mh-hm", you mewl, twisting his hair gently.

"So hot", he murmurs, kissing you with his tongue tracing your lips until you finally grant him access. Namjoon takes it happily, tangling his tongue with yours as his thigh keeps pulsating under your sweet pussy.

Every second with him feels like fiery ecstacy. He is so good by just being himself and being so strong and handsome. Oh how crazy you are for him.

"Joonie", you break the kiss, hips stuttering on his thigh, "help me, please."

Namjoon follows happily, placing his strong hands on your hips to guide your movements. Like this everything becomes so much easier again. The movements are slow and drawn out. Namjoon really makes sure to give your pussy enough stimulation. And while he guides your hips, he makes sure to really tense his thigh, keeping up a smooth rhythm of relax and flex.

It is not long that even those movements become unbearable for you. Your stomach is tight in pleasure, your pussy is throbbing and your clit feels like bursting.

"I wanna cum", you croak out, clawing at the back of his neck. You shudder each time he forces your clit over his thigh, toes curling in desperation.

"You wanna cum?" he asks, feeling his cock throb at your words.

"Yeah, so bad. Please."

"I'm not stopping you baby, I’m just here to catch you. Yeah?" he speaks softly and with such comfort that falling for him feels so, so good.

"Namjoon, ah", you moan, crumbling on his thigh with your head thrown back and your fingers on his chest. You can feel it vibrate in his moans and then you tremble out of control and all you really register is your own convulsing body and your pounding head.

You come down with a whimper of his name, falling around his neck to seek refuge in his embrace.

"Good girl, I’m so proud of you", he praises you, caressing your back slowly. You are panting so much, shivering like crazy. All he wants to do is keep you safe and comforted.

"Oh my god", you croak, barely catching your breath.

"Are you okay?"

"Yeah just….dizzy."

Namjoon chuckles, giving your butt a little pat. He cranes his neck to kiss your temple, keeping his lips pressed against it afterwards.

"I'm right here baby, relax as long as you want to", he whispers, wrapping you up in feelings of safety and comfort.

#namjoon smut #namjoon fanfic #namjoon scenario #namjoon oneshot #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts oneshot #bts x reader #bts x you #bangtan smut #bangtan fanfic #bangtan scenario #bangtan oneshot #bangtan x reader #bangtan x you #fanfic: kinktober22

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luaspersona · 1 year

Text

All Night│knj (m)

pairing ↠ namjoon x reader (f. reader) genre ↠ college!au; brother’s best friend!au; strangers to lovers; smut; one-shot summary ↠ when your brother bails on you, you have to find another way to entertain yourself for the night and Kim Namjoon just so happens to be a great company. rating ↠ +18 warnings ↠ alcohol consumption; flirting; sexual tension; the reader and Namjoon are shameless; explicit smut: consent king!Namjoon, a bit of thigh riding, nipple play, fingering, oral (f. and brief m. receiving), spit kink, dirty talk, pet names, praise kink, marking, light choking, begging, protected sex, multiple orgasms, cumshot, cum eating word count ↠ 12k (yeah, well. what can i say 💀) estimated reading time ↠ 30 minutes notes ↠ ok, so. i know i said i would upload this yesterday, but i got caught up with work and wasn't able to edit it one last time like i intended, and i hope it's ok that i'm dropping it now instead 🥺 note² ↠ also, this took so much longer than it should have, and it’s huge 😭 i’m so sorry y’all, but i swear it’s pure filth, the smut is just ridiculously long bc i don’t have any ounce of self control lmao 🫣 note³ ↠ ok, i'll let you get to it, now 🥰 crossposted ↠ read on ao3

navigation | masterlist | permanent taglist | tell me your thoughts ♡

As the good sister you are, you hate Jimin most of the time.

The sparse moments in which you feel love for your brother are the only downside of going long enough without seeing him, because you start to forget why Jimin studying on the other side of the country is actually crucial for your relationship. Recently, for example, you've been missing him, and that's not something you can just let happen.

So, when your boss sent you to Seoul to attend a handful of meetings during the week, you took the opportunity to meet up with your brother for the first time since he got into college and make new oh-so-sweet memories with Jimin so you can go on with not missing him for another semester or so.

The club he chose is far from the hotel your company paid for, but it's been a minute since you last toured Seoul's alluring night, so you decide to walk. You spot the large mono. neon sign Jimin described around thirty minutes later, and you quickly step out of the chilly night into the club's cozy interior.

You fish for your phone inside your purse, messaging a simple im here to your brother before finding your way to the bar. You hop onto one of the empty stools, smoothing the fabric of your pants and adjusting your cute top that is slightly hiked up from your walking.

You order a beer to start the night, and with its bitterness coating your tongue, you turn around to take in the environment. You have to admit Jimin was right about this place. Although really crowded, it feels comfortable; the dim lightning casting a cozy veil over the bodies pressed together on the dance floor, the playlist good and loud enough to soothe any thoughts that might threaten a good night out.

[10:31] baby j 😗: on my way

Upon reading his response, you can't contain the large smile that betrays your anxiety. It finally hits you how long it has been since you last saw your brother. You don't even know what color his hair is now, how he's enjoying his first semester, if he found another apartment, if he got that job he told you about last month.

Aren't you supposed to know these things? God, you're a terrible older sister.

“Hey! What's up, noona?” A deep voice calls beside you, startling you a bit.

You turn, catching sight of a tall man greeting the bartender before he slides onto the stool next to yours.

After you take a quick look at him, you find yourself blinking back a couple times, simply unable to divert your attention: you've never seen such a fine man in your life.

As he leans over the counter, his broad torso is evident even through his shirt, large shoulders making him seem way too big for that stool. And his thighs?! Those thick — thick — thighs. You could die a happy woman between them, almost drooling when he spreads his legs to make himself comfortable.

“I'll just have the usual!” He orders, prompting a nod in response.

You know you're ogling, but fuck if this man isn't just perfect.

He pushes his hair back, long fingers tangling in his black locks in an failed attempt to clear the strands off his eyes, but in a successful endeavor to make you suck in a breath. Your attention falls to his lips — plump rosy lips that shine once he wets them with the tip of his tongue.

You tilt up, finding his dark almond-shaped eyes — piercing back directly at you.

You tense a little under his scrutiny, but you don't turn away, holding his gaze as you sip your beer.

“You know it's rude to stare, right?” He teases, making you smile immediately.

Thing is: you are a Park, so flirting was like second nature to you. There's no scenario in which you dismiss this perfect lead he just gave you.

Besides, Jimin tends to be late, right? Yeah, he said he was on his way, sure, but who knows if he won't go to his place to freshen up before coming to meet you or something — what could be so bad about entertaining this beautiful man by your side?

“Oh, I'm sorry. You’re gorgeous, so it’s easy to get distracted.” He snickers, not expecting your response but definitely enjoying it. “But it's ok, I’ll let you stare back so we're even. Here, let me make it easier for you.”

You wiggle your body so you're facing him, closing your eyes playfully.

But he keeps his eyes locked in your face, as he's already regarded you before making his way to the bar. He noticed you when you approached the stool. He noticed the way your pants hug your legs just well enough for him to be able to delineate your figure. He noticed how really fucking cute your top is, loving how it bares the skin of your neck for him to picture how nice it would be to taint the soft flesh.

You are hot, and Namjoon is a practical man, so he was already trying to read you, maybe wait a bit to see if you came with someone, if your body language was inviting or reclusive.

What eventually pushed him to come over was the way your face lit up when you smiled at your phone and he found himself grinning in response.

So now, even with your eyes shut, and your body closer for him to shamelessly gawk at, it's your smile that he's focused on.

“So?” You open your eyes again.

He cocks his head, regarding you.

“I like your earrings.” He taunts, and you scoff in feigned offense.

“That's your review?”

The bartender shows up again, placing a bottle of soju and a single glass in front of the man, who pours a dose for himself before drinking it.

He looks at you, all pretty and pouty, and grins before he's leaning in.

“I think I’d like to paint you, princess.” When did his voice become so husky? “Is that something you'd be interested in?”

This close, he catches the goosebumps that crawl up your arms, but your reply is unaffected.

“Well, how good of a painter are you, baby?”

You can feel his hot breath fanning your jaw.

“I'd say I'm really good, but it really depends on you.”

“What about me.”

He shifts back to his prior position, a smirk on his face.

“If you behave.”

“And if I don't?” He drags his tongue over his lip.

“Then that’s even better.”

“Then I'm definitely interested, baby.”

He shoots you a shit-eating grin. God, are those fucking dimples?

“Well, what is your review?”

“Uhm, I like your lips. Almost want to know what they taste like.”

“Almost?”

“Of course! Need to know if you're a good boy first.” You say, matter-of-factly, tilting your head to finish your beer.

His eyes follow your body when you reach for another glass over the counter. “I also think a bottle of soju seems like a lot for one person.”

Damn, you are hot.

“Well, I'm a big guy.” He says, but pours it in your cup nonetheless.

“I can surely see that.” You huff, making him laugh.

“I'm Namjoon, by the way.”

You introduce yourself, taking the hand he extends to you.

The feeling of his large palm enveloping yours take your mind to other places. Places where that same hand is running up your legs, reaching for your zipper and slipping inside your—

“You're here alone?”

Before you can respond, your phone vibrates over at the counter, and you reach for it, checking a new message in your brother's chat.

“Gimme a sec.”

[10:47] baby j 😗: im rly rly sorry, sth came up, wont be able to make it tn

[10:47] you: You alright?

[10:48] baby j 😗: yeah

[10:48] you: Then why cant you come?

[10:49] baby j 😗: …

[10:49] baby j 😗: i met up w this really cute guy from my class and i wanna fuck him

[10:50] you: You bailing on me to fuck???

[10:51] baby j 😗: im so so sorry 🥺

[10:51] you: No you aint 😡

[10:52] baby j 😗: my bad lol

[10:53] baby j 😗: gtg tho, see u tmrw

“You ok?” Namjoon asks, as soon as you finish your glass of soju after sending Jimin a bunch of angry face emojis.

You realize you're frowning, and immediately ease the scowl on your face.

“Yeah. My brother just stood me up.”

“Shit. I'm sorry.”

“It's ok.”

Namjoon is quiet for a second.

“So you're leaving?”

You honestly thought Jimin would take longer to piss you off this time, but when you meet Namjoon's uncertain eyes, you can't really feel too bad about yourself right now. You smile mischievously.

“Giving up already? Oh baby, I thought you could hold up.” You pout.

“I would never even think of leaving you unsatisfied.” The grin returns to his face, where it belongs. “Besides, who would I share my soju with?”

You pretend to search around the club.

“There are plenty of people here.”

“I'm sure of it, but there’s this beautiful girl who’s talking big to me and looks awfully uncomfortable in her clothes and I happen to be a very good boy who just wants to help her out of them.”

“Didn’t think of you as the romantic type.”

“What can I say, I’m as sweet as they come.”

“Then what do you say I help you finish this bottle before you give me a hand, sweet boy?”

“Sounds good to me.”

“Just one thing, though.” He turns to you, attentive. “Sweet isn’t really my thing. I like it rough.” You wink.

“Damn, princess.” He chuckles. “I like you.”

Namjoon prided himself on being a good flirt. He liked to take his sweet time with his partners, teasing and instigating in such a way that any fleeting touch would ignite the skin.

But you? You were humbling him.

Barely two cups into the bottle, he decided to take you to dance. He assumed that having his hands on your thighs, gripping your hips, and his lips brushing gently over your neck would help to shut that witty mouth of yours, but as you keep grinding your ass on his cock he finds himself guiding you closer, spellbound by the way your body frames his.

Namjoon's thoughts are clouded by your hips, the feeling of your skin beneath his fingertips turning him the fuck on, making him feel like a horny teenager.

A thin layer of sweat covers your bodies, the loud music a mere excuse for you two to keep pressing into each other.

Namjoon can hear your shaky breaths as you turn a bit on his hold, lips nearing his ear as you nib lightly at the flesh — which, paired with the way your fingers grab his hair, is enough to prompt a quiet moan out of his plumpy lips, one that you wouldn’t have listen weren’t you so close to him.

He should be ashamed of how fast he’s giving in, but he honestly doesn’t give a fuck. He just wants more. So he lets you do as you please — even if just for now.

Namjoon leisurely rolls his pelvis on your ass, large palms coming up to circle your waist and it’s his turn to listen to the pretty whine you give him. Namjoon closes his eyes, trying to focus.

“Wanna kiss you so bad, babe. Can I kiss you?”

You nod immediately and Namjoon wastes no time in grabbing your hand in his and quickly guiding you out of the dance floor, cutting through the sea of bodies with clear purpose.

You two make your way to a hall near what you assume is the backdoor of the club, poorly illuminated but also a bit more quiet.

Namjoon gently pushes you towards the wall, your back meeting its cold surface. The way he stares at you resembles nothing the sweet eyes you met at the bar — now dark with lust, nothing short of intimidating.

And you would be lying if you said that didn’t spur a heat below your belly.

“Are we allowed to be back here?” A coy smile crosses Namjoon’s face.

“That’s what you're thinking right now?”

“What should I be thinking, sweet boy?”

A huffed laugh passes his lips, and Namjoon steps closer. One of his arms comes to rest near your face.

“In a good ass excuse for the show you pulled back there.” His low register sends a shiver down your spine.

On second thought? Maybe you shouldn’t have teased him that much, but— ah, who are you kidding?

“Thing is, babe, I’m not sorry.”

Namjoon shakes his head, taking a step closer.

With his body so near, you’re suddenly hyper aware of everything. You close your eyes when his breathing ghosts over your skin, feeling goosebumps trail over your arms.

You wait for his next action. You wait for a touch or a reprimand, but it never comes.

Wait.

He didn’t… leave you, did he?

You’re mortified for a second, but as if sensing your distress Namjoon brings his fingertips to graze over your sides. The sudden touch startles you a bit.

When his hands reach your upper arm, you hear him let out a sharp, frustrated breath, prompting you to open your eyes.

“You are fucking beautiful.”

You want to reciprocate his praise, but the words seem lost in your throat. This close you feel drunk on his beauty, dazed by his full, sinful lips and intoxicated by his heat as your bodies orbit each other.

Are you imagining him?

Namjoon’s hand continues to travel up your body, stopping at your jaw.

The pad of his thumb traces your chin, reaching your bottom lip and slowly pulling it off of your anxious bite, soothing the flesh in a tender movement.

“Can I kiss you?” He asks again, tone serious.

You smile.

“At this point, you better.”

And so he does, plumpy lips touching yours with surprising tenderness while his hands rest on your neck. You are taken aback by his softness, not reacting for a second before pulling him closer to bathe in his warmth.

The kiss unwinds all the tension off of you, replacing it with lust. The docility of his actions makes them hypnotic, your mind disoriented with his skin grazing yours — but you’ve never been a patient woman.

You slide your hands through his chest, trailing his defined torso before grabbing his shirt in your fists. You break the kiss and he lifts an eyebrow in question.

“Thought I told you sweet isn’t really my thing, big boy.”

Namjoon chuckles. “So impatient.”

This time Namjoon smashes your lips together, kissing you with hunger.

He presses you further against the wall and you stumble with his eagerness, a satisfied hum leaving your throat.

His hands explore your body, going through your neck, your shoulders, your hips and then your ass, grabbing a handful and giving it a hard squeeze.

He opens your mouth with his, and you tilt your head to deepen the kiss. His breath is ragged when he slips his tongue inside, and you two take barely a second to match each other's rhythm.

You suck the soju's sweetness off his tongue, and he drinks the bitter memory of your beer. Forget the alcohol — he's the one inebriating your thoughts.

You feel every inch of his body, pressed flush against his broad torso as his waist smoothly drags over yours, making it almost impossible for you to keep your whiny sounds down your throat.

You make no effort, on the other hand, to resist the urge to bite his pillowy flesh, nibbing with maybe more force than you should, but grinning in satisfaction when you earn a sweet groan in response.

You entangle your arms around his neck, pulling your bodies closer in a desperate attempt to get more of him, and he seems just as insatiable, slithering his arms behind your back to press your fronts.

Namjoon breaks the kiss, but he gives you no time to complain before you feel his mouth on your neck, sucking and biting between licks over the sweaty skin.

Your hands find purchase on his hair, grabbing his locks with force as arousal gushes out of you.

Namjoon's determined to mark all over your neck. After he sucks a hickey on the spot between your ear and your jaw, you just fucking know he's sporting the smuggest smile at the way his actions shove the prettiest of yelps out of you.

He levels his face with yours, but avoids your lips when you try to resume the kiss.

“You’re awfully quiet, baby girl” he points out when you frown “have nothing smart to say?”

“How about fuck you?”

“I plan on it, don’t worry.” A cocky grin takes his lips. “And although you look gorgeous trying to be in control, I wanna hear you. I wanna hear how good I’m making you feel, baby.”

He doesn’t really give you an option when he slots his leg between yours, large thigh pressing up your core and pushing an audible whimper out of you. The sound makes Namjoon grab a handful of your ass and use it to grind you along his thigh — his fucking thigh.

You grab the back of his head, pulling him to you as you smother his lips with yours, but this time Namjoon eats all your moans, feasting on the sounds you so obediently grant him.

You’re bathing in each other’s heat and with a particularly delicious roll of your hips, your core brushes on his growing bulge. You suck in a breath, parting with the kiss to learn how to breathe again.

“Look at you” his tone is laced with lust “riding my thigh like a good girl.”

Fuck, you're so damn horny, and you've barely done anything. The fuck is up with you? It scares you how you know you'd promptly fold if Namjoon asked you too, just to have that cock drilling inside you.

So you just hum weakly, apparently forgetting how to fucking speak.

“What was it again? That you called me before?” he asks, returning to slide your clothed core over his strong legs again, loving the way you look getting off on his thigh “Oh, right. What happened with all the filth you were saying before, sweet girl?”

You swallow. This man is fucking challenging you. You have to get your shit together.

“Namjoon—” you moan his name out “I’m… I’m so fucking wet right now.”

“Yeah?” His Adam's apple bobs in his throat.

“Yeah, Namjoon, my panties are fucking soaked.”

“Shit. That’s it, wanna hear you losing it.”

Namjoon wants you so bad. He can feel the warmth of your core rubbing against him, and he can only imagine the growing stain in your panties, the desire of licking you clean the only thing in his mind. He wants to know how you look when you cum, and he just knows it'll be the prettiest fucking thing.

“I can feel how hard you are for me.” Your shaky voice makes him growl.

“Yeah, sweet girl?” That’s his new favorite pet name, the only thing he wants leaving his mouth.

You close your lips on his neck, moaning against his skin when you lick up his throat, a salty taste coating your tongue.

“I haven’t even—” you falter, intensifying your movements to touch his covered cock with each raise of your hips “I haven't even touched you yet, big boy. If I lose control, you sure you can keep it?”

You suck a purple stain on his pulse point, nibbing at it softly and rolling your eyes back over the grunts he pours on your ears.

Your hand slides between your bodies, fingers ghosting over his cock. Namjoon chuckles darkly.

“You're such a tease.”

“And what you gonna do about it, big boy?” You murmur on his skin.

Before Namjoon can answer, though, a high giggle echoes through the corridor.

You both turn, startled by the sound.

A couple stumble its way into the corner, in a messy make out session that delays their realization that they aren't alone.

“Do you live close?” You ask Namjoon, breathe steadying when the two of you understand the couple doesn’t really mind the audience.

“Yeah.” He says, non-committal.

“Can we maybe go to your place?” You suggest, unsure if he's comfortable with it.

Namjoon turns his attention back to you, and his lips curve up into the most gentle smile you've ever seen.

“If you want to.”

You nod, mirroring his smile.

Namjoon adjusts himself in his pants, trying to be as comfortable as one can be with a painfully hard cock in tight fitting slacks.

You take the cue to soothe your own clothing and Namjoon can't help when his cute smile turns into a full on smirk upon seeing the evidence of his hands on your crumpled outfit.

He takes your hand in his when you both are relatively presentable, and once again leads you through the club, this time aiming for the exit.

Turns out, Namjoon isn't a good boy at all.

The whole ride to his apartment his hand was planted on your thigh, caressing softly without ever breaching your inner thigh or skirting higher — it was as innocent as it possibly could be.

Yet you were squirming and fidgeting the whole trip as his voice, enveloped in the most vulgar desire, whispered the most filthy promises on your ear, shooting arousal all the way down to your now sticking panties.

Promises of making you cum on his tongue, of fucking you senseless with your face on his mattress — of painting you with his cum tonight.

By the time the car finally stopped at his place, you felt your knuckles sore from clutching the fabric of your pants.

Not that he was unaffected. Namjoon could dirty talk you all he wanted, it didn't change the fact that you saw the way his cock twitched and how he was restlessly shifting in his seat whenever you played into his little scenarios.

Although, in hindsight, saying you wanted to be stuffed full of him wasn't the best idea, because the quiet groan he spilled in your ear did nothing to placate your own aching pussy.

The warmth of his palm is familiar at this point as he takes your hand to climb the flights of stairs to his place. Namjoon quietly fishes for his keys and, before opening the door, he looks at you, smiling softly and making you smile too.

When you both are inside his apartment, you wet your lips, anticipating his kiss. But Namjoon misses the action, too preoccupied with taking off his shoes and jacket and politely asking for you to do the same at the entrance.

His long legs stride towards the kitchen, and you almost assume he’s nervous when he fumbles with his cabinets, picking up two glasses.

You frown and, slowly following after him, you hop up on the stool by the counter, across from him.

“Namjoon.”

“Yeah.” He fills the cups with water, placing them between you two and finally returning your gaze.

“Do you still wanna fuck?”

Namjoon huffs out a laugh. “Yes. I definitely still wanna fuck you.” His eyebrows knit together. “Why? Don’t you?”

“I do. But I kinda expected you to have, you know, thrown me against the wall or something by now.”

“I might still do that. Just wanna talk for a bit, make sure you’re sober and all.” He explains, reaching for his cup, and you mimic his motion, soothing the dryness of your throat.

“Well” you ponder “I honestly feel a bit tipsy, but I’m conscious.”

“Do you want some time to be sure?”

“Nah, I’m sure.” He nods. “Are you drunk?”

“Not really.” Namjoon presses his lips into a tight line, before saying: “I also wanna know your limits.”

“My limits?”

“Yeah, I wanna know what you don’t like.”

“Oh” you huff out a laugh, dumbfounded “that’s nice. You seriously ask that to everyone you hook up with?”

“I like to.”

“Okay, uhm…” you sip your water. “I’m not really into degradation and, although I said I like it rough, I would appreciate it if you didn’t hit me or anything.” He nods, waiting for you to continue. “I also don’t feel comfortable with ass stuff. Oh, and do you have condoms?”

“Yes.”

“Then I think that’s it. Maybe just don’t try anything freaky before telling me?”

“Sure, no problem.”

“What about you?” He cocks his head to the side, considering you for a second.

“There isn't much I'm not willing to do, honestly, so really? Just don’t want you to lie or fake stuff. I want you to tell me if I’m doing something wrong.”

“I can do that.”

Namjoon rounds the counter, stopping in front of you before helping you stand.

“Up.” He commands, head tilting in the direction of the counter, and you jump to sit on it.

“There’s only one problem.” You say, guiding him between your legs.

“What?”

“I’m soaking wet right now.”

“That can’t be comfortable.” He traces soft circles on your thighs.

“It isn’t. And it’s your fault, big boy.” You pout.

Namjoon sucks his lower lip between his teeth, dark lust cloaking his eyes.

He gets closer, hands coming to your ass and squeezing it.

“But I’ve barely done anything.”

“I’m painfully aware of that.” You whine, seeking more contact.

“Are you normally that impatient, baby?”

“Do you normally take this damn long to fuck someone?”

He chuckles.

“You sure you can take it if I’m rough with you, princess?”

“You sure you can be rough with me, sweet boy? Cause you’ve been all talk and no—”

He smashes his mouth against yours before you could finish.

Namjoon’s lips seem like velvet on yours — despite the pressure, despite the thirst with which he drinks you up. He moves his lips in a way that almost feels like too much, like you won’t be able to take it, but the taste of lust coats your mouth so deeply that you’re intoxicated.

His hands memorize your body, grabbing your neck to tilt your head to the side before you open your mouth to meet his hot tongue, flicking it with yours.

You explore his mouth, happy to swallow all of his breathy groans as Namjoon tightens his grip on your ass, pulling you to drag on his bulge and grunting at the feeling, your body gasoline to his fire.

He can barely concentrate on the kiss, and you’re not much better, the initial eagerness developing into a sloppy make out session — fuck technic, how can one focus when Namjoon’s cock is so deliciously rubbing against you?

He starts to kiss down your jaw, wet lips tracing your sensitive flesh, taking your neck as his canvas.

You couldn't be more thankful for not having any more meetings to attend until being back to Busan, because you definitely don't own enough makeup to hide the purple marks he leaves behind.

He cups your boob, squeezing it in a way that has you parting your lips in a whimper.

“Fuck princess, you’re so responsive.”

His palm slithers beneath your shirt, caressing the soft flesh of your stomach before he tugs your top off.

“Take this off for me, baby.” He commands, voice low in your ear as he brushes the thin lace of your bra.

And you obey, unclasping it and letting it fall somewhere near your top.

You're not ashamed or timid in the slightest when you lean back on the counter to let him take in as much as he wants from you, a tiny smirk crossing your lips. Your confidence makes Namjoon crazy, but you can't help it. You feel so hot under his gaze, you could let this man do anything to you.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous. Like, honestly, what the fuck.” You giggle.

“Come back here then, sweet boy.”

He kisses down your body, from your neck to your collarbone before he finally reaches your tits.

He closes his mouth around you, swirling his tongue around your nipple as his thumb finds your other breast, flicking over your hard nub and eliciting a loud cry out of your pretty lips. Namjoon seriously feels like he could drown in your sweet sounds.

Your fingers tangle in his hair, tugging a handful and making him groan, vibration reverberating all through your chest.

A string of saliva attaches his lips to your tits as he peppers down kisses between the valley of your chest to regard your other boob, latching onto your nipple and taking his hand to smear the wetness he left behind.

The tip of his tongue licks your nipple, and you buck into his hips.

“Fuck, Namjoon, I… I love your mouth.” You pant.

“Love your tits.”

And he certainly makes you feel so.

Your head falls back when his hand cups your pussy over your pants. The elongated moan you grace him with makes him pull your waistband, quickly undoing your buttons.

You suck in a breath when his hand slips inside your panties, and the groan that leaves his throat is borderline painful as he finally feels you — his fingertips slightly spreading your folds as your slick coats him.

“Damn, baby, you’re dripping.” He says, breaking the pattern of kisses on your tits to look at your face.

“I fucking told you.”

“Is all this for me?”

“Yeah, ba—” your words turn into a whine when his middle finger presses down your clit.

He chuckles, and you clench around nothing.

Namjoon feels like he's dreaming, seeing your head tilted back, your eyes closed shut as you squirm on his finger.

He pushes one digit inside your aching pussy, and you sob. Your wetness paired with the warmth of your walls pushes a moan out of his mouth, electricity going straight to his dick and coaxing him to push another finger inside — his mind spiraling as he imagines how your pussy will feel like around his cock.

“Good girl, soaking my fingers.”

Namjoon’s attention is locked on your face, gauging your reactions carefully.

“Shit, baby, that's it” you shudder when his fingertips find your g-spot, and he starts to hit it restlessly, your walls sucking him in.

You feel your breath scaping your lungs. Although Namjoon’s hand is somewhat restrained by your pants — which he didn’t mind taking off — the stretch of his fingers inside of you is maddening.

He's slowly working you up, heat coursing through your body and all the way to your scalp, the obscene sounds dripping from you only spurring you on.

You start to struggle to support yourself, feeling weaker by the minute, so you grab his upper arms, in an attempt to steady yourself. When you open your eyes, you’re met with deep, dark lust.

“I want to eat you out.” He says, and you feel like you’re going to pass out.

“Fucking god.”

“Would you like that, baby?”

“Yes, baby, fuck” you moan.

“Tell me you want it.”

Can't he tell by the way your chest is rising and falling at an almost concerning speed?

“I wanna feel that pretty mouth of yours in my pussy, Namjoon.”

He groans before his hand leaves your cunt and helps you down the counter.

You two stumble your way to his bedroom. Namjoon's arms hug you tightly against him as your hands pull his hair in a messy kiss, the only concern in your minds is to remain linked.

Namjoon tosses you carelessly over his mattress, drawing a gasp out of you.

The sight of you on his sheets, bare chest glistening with his saliva, pants poorly undone and shifting as you try to relive the emptiness he left behind makes Namjoon grope himself through his clothes, swallowing strained grunts.

You smirk at his distress, bringing your hands to your boobs and pushing them together to shove that grunt out of his throat.

“You look so pretty like this, spread out for me.”

“I bet you’ll find me prettier with your cock inside of me.”

“You keep saying these things…” he closes his eyes, sighing heavily at the image you cast in his head. “I think I need to teach you some manners, dirty girl.”

“I’m counting you’ll at least try.” You smirk and Namjoon chuckles.

In a smooth motion, he takes his shirt off, exposing his broad, sculpted chest. Smug takes his face at the way you shamelessly gawk at him, and he kneels at the floor, hands harshly yanking you to the edge of the bed by your pants, before he finally slides them down your legs.

Namjoon straight out moans when he notices the large pool of arousal staining your panties.

“Damn, baby” his voice is barely audible and you squirm, shutting your legs to try and provide some friction. “You want to be fucked this bad?” His hands come up your thighs to part them, gaze transfixed in your core, layered by the thinnest lace of underwear.

“I want to be fucked this bad by— by you, shit.” You stutter as Namjoon lips meet your legs, biting and licking the soft flesh.

He trails kisses along your thighs, closing the distance to your cunt, but instead of touching you where you need him to, his lips simply hover over you. You let out a low curse when he continues his path to your other thigh, licking and sucking roughly.

“Namjoon, please.”

“Please what, princess? Tell me what you want and I'll give it to you.”

“I want your lips.“

“They’re right here.”

“I just told you.” You whine.

“Fucking tell me again if you really want it.”

“Please, eat me out, baby.” Your voice is pathetically high, but you couldn't care less.

“Since you asked so nicely” the look of his dimples between your thighs is the most beautiful obscene thing you've ever been graced with.

Namjoon shoves your panties to the side, and the way he curses your name out has you forgetting how to breathe.

“The prettiest fucking pussy, so fucking wet for me” he groans “I bet I could slip right in.” And you’re sure he’s right, feeling your lust dripping down your ass.

Namjoon seems to like the way you squirm under him, because instead of fulfilling his promises, he blows a cold puff of air over your folds and the way you shudder has his dick twitching.

“Namjoon, for fuck’s sake.” He chuckles. “I'll fight you, I swear to god.”

He brings his finger to glide up your entrance, effectively shutting you up.

Namjoon teases you, pulling your folds apart before spreading your slick around them, leaving you all nice and sloppy for him. His eyes flick up to the way your chest rises and falls above him, then his gaze returns to your drenched cunt.

How are you supposed to survive the night if he keeps looking at you like that? Like you are sin incorporated?

He finally brings his face to you, licking a long stripe along your pussy and collecting all your juices on his way up to your clit, where he swirls his tongue before sucking, hard.

You can’t help the loud cry that exits your throat, nor how it elongates when Namjoon hums in pleasure.

“You taste so fucking good.”

One of your hands flies to his hair, twisting and pulling carelessly, while the other gathers his sheets in your fists.

You jolt your hips up to meet his face as he continues to lap at your cunt and when he drags the tip of his hot tongue to part your folds and pushes it inside your walls, Namjoon has to pin you down to prevent you from lifting off the bed.

“So fucking good, baby” you moan, fumbling with his hair.

“Yeah?” His deep voice against your heat makes your head fall back.

Namjoon feel his control dissolving pretty fucking fast as he takes in all that you can give him, arousal gushing out of you for him to feast.

His tongue explores your cunt and he softly takes your clit in between his teeth. You feel a sharp pressure growing in your stomach and you grind on his face seeking more of it.

“Shit! Do that again, please” you yelp, and he promptly nibbles down at your clit.

Namjoon starts to focus on your now swollen nub, while he slides his hand down, and before you can process his intentions, you feel the delicious push of two of his fingers inside of your cunt.

The sound you let out has Namjoon’s mind blanking. You arch your back, squeezing your eyes shut as goosebumps crawl up your arms.

Namjoon lifts your legs to rest them on his shoulders, allowing himself to go deeper into you and he speeds up his movements, his fingers scissoring you open for him. Namjoon eats you up like his life depends on it, sucking the soul out of your body.

Sinful squelching and slurping noises fill his room, and he wants those sounds imprinted to his brain, your pussy loudly dripping for him.

In a sudden movement, he curves his fingers, hitting your sweet spot. Your breath tries to keep up with your racing heart while the knot in your belly threatens to snap.

You let go of his sheets, hand coming up your chest, cupping your boob just slightly before pinching your hard nipples, the sensitivity making you squirm, Namjoon's groan between your legs just spurring you on, the sight of you unraveling above him the most erotic thing he's ever seen — and to know he's the one making you shiver like that makes his cock painfully hard.

You rest your hand beside your head, trying to steady yourself somehow and failing miserably.

Your mind is empty, his tongue washing away any lingering thoughts or worries you’ve ever had, as if you know nothing but the feeling of his lips wrapping around your folds and the maddening drag of his fingers inside of you.

When your legs start to shake and your walls clench around his digits, Namjoon slightly parts his lips from you, but without pausing his fingers — if anything, he starts to pump them faster.

"You gonna cum?"

You nod.

Your lower lip will definitely be bruised tomorrow.

"Words, baby girl."

"Yes! Yes, I’m close" you cry.

"Look at me." He demands, and you do as he says.

You support yourself on your elbows, meeting his firm gaze on you.

The sight of Namjoon between your thighs, chin glistening as your arousal drips from his mouth, and the fact that he still hasn’t stopped fingering you, make your whole body quiver, your stomach contracting hard, and you have to gather all your self control to not cum just from his looks.

Fuck, you wish you could take a picture.

"Want you to look at me when you come." You clench around his fingers. "Can you do that for me, princess?"

"Yeah" you are like… twenty percent sure you can.

Namjoon grins to himself in triumph. You’re already already this fucked out and he’s barely begun with you.

His mouth returns to your core. Honestly? Namjoon's knees are surely bruised from the hard floor, scraping whenever he moves further against you. But he couldn’t give less of a fuck as his tongue worships you in earnest, your name falling from his lips like prayer while his fingers stretch you so fucking good, pushing you to the edge of your orgasm.

"Jesus, Namjoon, that’s it" you feel silly, struggling to keep your eyes open.

"Cum for me baby. Cum on my face." He commands, register so low you barely hear him.

The feral look he directs you alongside his words make your orgasm hit you in a strong wave, your body lifting from the mattress and shaking vigorously. Namjoon’s hand spreads over your stomach to try and pin you down as he keeps his tongue lapping at you, drinking up all your essence and helping you ride out your high.

He groans at the way your browns shoot up your forehead, mouth silently parting as your head falls back.

You’re so fucking gorgeous when you cum.

You push his head away from you when your legs start to tremble from oversensitivity, searching for air.

Namjoon puts your panties back in place, the soaked clothing sticking to your eaten out pussy and making him hum, satisfied.

"That’s it, baby, you did so well for me."

"Fuck" you whisper, running your fingers through your hair. The shockwaves of your orgasm are still making you shiver when you pant, "what the fuck was that?"

Namjoon chuckles, slowly lifting himself from his bruised knees.

His stare on you falters when he darts his tongue out to collect your cum from around his mouth, eyes fluttering shut.

He climbs up the bed, careful not to crush you as he brings his lips to yours. You can taste yourself on his tongue, and he swallows the quiet whine you make before pulling away.

Namjoon takes his wet fingers and wraps around his mouth, sucking his fingers clean with his eyes closed.

When he looks at you again, something unreadable crosses his gaze before he gulps. "Can I spit in your mouth, pretty girl?"

Your reaction betrays your answer, thighs immediately pressing together as a new wave of arousal shoots through you at his request.

But Namjoon still waits until you say: "Fuck yeah, you can."

His smile is ridiculously innocent for the matter at hand.

"Then open up for me, princess."

And you do, parting your lips and sticking your tongue out as he grabs your jaw, hovering above you.

You close your eyes as a small globe of spit hits your tongue, and you swallow proudly, a content hum ripping from your throat.

"Good girl, shit, that’s so hot."

He leans in to resume the kiss, making himself more comfortable between your legs. His clothed cock drags against your inner thigh.

Why is he still wearing pants?

"Namjoon" you call, between kisses.

"Uhm."

You take your hands to his torso, tracing freely and loving the way his skin shivers under your fingertips. From his broad shoulders to his firm abdomen, you explore his golden, sweaty skin above you, until you slide one of your hands down. Your palm touches his member, stroking it just slightly as you bathe in the broken moan he graces you with.

"Let me suck you off." You offer, feeling how hard — and thick, mind you — he is under your hand.

"Can you handle more?" His tone is teasing, but his look is genuine.

You’re silent for a moment. What does he mean by that? Would he just… stop if you said no?

God, why is that so hot?

"Yeah, sweet boy. Wanna take care of you too."

The problem is that there’s no way Namjoon’s gonna last if you suck him off. He can barely control himself now, after tasting you and drawing all those sweet sounds out of you. His dick is already twitching under your half assed strokes, the slight discomfort from his pre cum staining his clothes a clear sign he needs to be inside you. He wants to make you cum again, but around his cock this time.

So he chuckles.

"Can you take it if I fuck you now?" You bite your lip, nodding. "Yeah? Tell me you want my cock, baby girl."

"I want you cock, Joonie." You spill, lips nearing his ear. "I want you to fuck me so hard I can’t walk tomorrow."

Maybe not your brightest idea, but at this point you don't give a shit. Namjoon is the only thought on your mind and if you came that hard just from his fingers, you can’t wait to see what his dick will feel like.

"Fuck, I love your filthy mouth." He groans. "Sure you don’t need some time?"

"Nah… maybe leave the riding for later, though?" A coy smile crosses your face.

"Sure" he smiles back.

Namjoon kneels back on the bed, wincing a bit when his sore knee touches the crumpled sheets. Ignoring it, he reaches for his wallet in his back pocket, taking a foil packet out of it.

He stands up, tossing the wallet aside before reaching for his belt.

"Let me" you ask, lifting yourself and sitting on your heels.

You take your hands to his thigh, caressing it before going to his belt, which you undo, eyes not daring to look away from his.

You bite your lip when your hands open his zipper, and you reach around him to grasp his pants, pulling them down slowly as he looks at you with nothing but lust, eyes tilting down to your bare chest.

"You honestly have the most amazing thighs."

He frowns in amusement. "Thanks?"

Usually you’re a big fan of reciprocity, and you might have considered taking your sweet fucking time with him, just like he did with you, if Namjoon hadn’t just give you one of the best orgasms of your life and if you didn’t feel arousal pooling again on your already soaked panties. So, instead, you just pull down his pants along with his briefs, his cock springing free.

Namjoon hisses at the feeling of the fabric dragging against his shaft, and you have to suck in a breath when you look at his thick member. It must be painful how hard he is at this point, dick angry and throbbing.

"Big boy indeed." You blurt out, making Namjoon laugh as he kicks his pants down his legs.

"Losing your confidence, princess?" Honestly? Namjoon has no business having such a pretty cock and being this hot. You feel like he should be illegal.

You curl your palm around his dick and give it a tentative pump. A long moan falls from his lips from finally receiving some attention.

"Namjoon?"

"Yeah."

"Can I at least taste you?" Are you fucking pleading?

He gulps.

"Please?" You pout.

He bites his lip — how could he ever say no to you looking up at him like that, the cutest pout on your lips, while you beg him to let you give him head? He'd give you anything.

"Shit, yes, you can."

You smile.

That's it. Namjoon's sure he's imagining you. Is he dreaming?

You inch closer, giving his tip an experimental lick and tasting his salty pre cum, riveting at the sweet sounds he lays out for you.

You spit on his shaft before you lick your way down him, smearing your spit all over his length, before giving his crown a light suck, prompting Namjoon to buck his hips into your mouth, and you welcome him.

You moan, feeling his weight on your tongue. He twitches between your lips when you hollow your cheeks.

You start to take him further, his tip grazing the back of your mouth while you pump what you can’t fit inside.

"Fuck, princess, you look so pretty sucking my cock." He groans, head tilting back for a second and squeezing his eyes shut.

When you start to bob your head faster, though, Namjoon gathers all his self control and pushes you away, and you release him with a small pop.

You pout, and his jaw tenses "why would you stop me then?"

"I wanna fuck you." He pumps his dick a few times, hand slipping easier with your saliva now coating him. "All I’ve been thinking about."

Namjoon rips the foil packet open with his teeth, securing the condom around himself.

You make a move to lay back on his mattress, but Namjoon shakes his head.

"Nah, baby, that’s not how I want you."

He slithers his arm around your torso, harshly turning you over. He yanks you by your waist, pulling your ass up to him. His hand runs down your spine, pressing your face on his sheets.

Namjoon positions himself behind you. His palm comes up to caress your ass before giving it a hard squeeze.

Namjoon parts your cheeks, and he brings his fingers to your folds, spreading them apart to stare at your pussy. He grunts upon noticing your cunt is already a mess for him again even if he’s just licked you clean.

"You got wet again from sucking my dick, princess?"

"You felt so good in my mouth."

Your words fuel him, and Namjoon doesn’t think twice before he inches closer and licks your folds, the tip of his tongue collecting your licking lust as he hums in pleasure.

"Sweetest fucking pussy" your eyes roll back.

Namjoon pulls away to admire the view. There are you, all pliant, waiting for his next action with your face pressed down his bed, your ass on display, pussy dripping in anticipation.

He never felt this fucking hard.

"God, you’re gorgeous. So beautiful for me like this."

He grips his cock, aligning himself with your entrance, but instead of just sinking it inside you, Namjoon drags his crown up and down your folds like he has all the fucking time in the world. Your spit mixing with your gushing arousal.

You groan — you wanna fight him.

"Namjoon" his name drips like sin from your lips.

"Uhm." He hums, distracted.

"Just fuck me already."

He smirks.

"Now that’s no way of asking something, is it?" You groan. "Don't you wanna be a good girl for me?"

"Baby, please, can you fuck me? My pussy is so fucking wet right now." You whine, wiggling your ass, creating some, but not nearly enough, friction. "Please..."

Namjoon fucking loves your dirty mouth. "Good girl."

He slowly presses himself between your folds, shoving a loud moan from your throat.

You shudder from the intrusion, his tip deliciously splitting you up as it slides in your cunt.

"Shit, baby, you’re way too tight." He grunts. "Relax for me, princess."

Namjoon leans over you, his torso framing your back. He lays sweet kisses on your shoulders, and his hand on your hips starts to softly trace your skin, raising until he’s grabbing one of your boobs. He squeezes it, pitching your hard nipples.

His gentle touches make you melt, allowing for Namjoon to drag his cock further inside of you, finding little resistance as his thick cock stretches you up.

Your cunt engulf him so tightly that Namjoon feels his mind spiraling, and when his hips meet your ass, you both let out a shaky breath.

"Shit, I feel so fucking full."

He chuckles.

"Yeah, baby?"

"Yeah, fuck. Gimme a sec."

You roll your hips slightly to try and get used to his size, but he’s filling you up so good that the tiniest of movements makes his shaft drag against your walls, a quiet yelp falling from your lips.

"Ok." You gulp. "You can move."

Namjoon licks his lips and smirks, hands tightening on your hips.

"Hold tight, baby."

He slowly pushes himself out of you, but doesn’t give you time to feel empty as he immediately comes slamming back inside. You gasp, body jerking forward.

Your pussy welcomes him with each thrust, swallowing him with the most wet sounds you’ve ever heard, and you start to push your ass back to try and take him further between your tight walls.

His cock moves in a merciless pace, and you feel like you forgot how to breathe.

How the fuck does he know how to move his hips like that?

You’re exhilarated, mouth open but not a single sound coming out. Overwhelmed by his soft moans above you, by the way he stuffs your pussy full of him, by the way you can feel your legs wet with your arousal gushing from your core.

You try to get your shit together, prompting your ass back to meet his thrusts, and when you finally find his rhythm — but not without the help of his firm hands dragging you against him — the slapping sounds become so vulgar that you sob.

"That’s it, baby, that’s what you wanted, right?" He mumbles, voice barely coherent as his throbbing cock relentlessly drills your pussy. "To be fucked so hard, to be so stuffed you aren’t able to speak, hum?"

You hum, feeling like you’ll scream if you open your mouth.

Namjoon doesn’t like it, though. He hates the way you’re suppressing your pleasing from him.

"I thought I told you I wanna hear you losing it, baby. Where’s your filthy mouth?"

"So… you… so good, Namjoon… fuck" you stutter.

"You like it?"

"Yeah, shit, go harder."

His eyes flutter shut for a second.

"Anything you want, princess."

Namjoon shifts his legs, trying different angles to make you unable to hold your pretty sounds in. He attempts a couple of ways before he sets his left foot on the mattress, and when he resumes his thrusting a loud scream rips from your throat.

"That’s it, Namjoon, god, there. Please, do it again." You plea, voice pathetically high as you clench around him.

Your moaning is fuel to him, and he starts to fuck you as hard as he can, loving how you’re spiraling under him, tortured sounds finally reaching his ears.

"You feel so good, baby." You say and Namjoon growls.

Just as blissful as the sensation of his cock deep inside of your tight walls, is knowing that he’s making you feel on the fucking moon too. So, he seeks the same spot over and over again, his purpose clear.

You roll your hips, grinding on his cock.

God, it's such a shame you're not into degradation. All Namjoon wants it's to call you his slut.

"Shit, princess, you’re so greedy, fucking yourself with my cock."

You push your ass back again, but this time you feel his balls slapping against your clit and you both falter as lightning courses through your bodies, making you constrict your pussy around him.

"Do that again, baby girl." He commands, and you fucking obey.

You clench around his cock again, and Namjoon goes feral.

His strokes are hard, but so fucking precise that the way he’s railing your pussy makes you feel like you’re losing your grip on reality.

Shit, this is too fucking good, and Namjoon feels dizzy. If he wasn’t drunk before he certainly feels like it now, thoroughly enjoying the way you’re completely unraveling under him.

"You’re squeezing me so good, so fucking tight for me." He groans out.

His fingers dig into your flesh in a way that you’re sure it’ll definitely bruise — but you want it too. You want him to mark you all over with the evidence of how good he’s fucking you, of how good he’s making you feel.

Your mind is clouded. Your knuckles sore from how hard you’re clutching the sheets.

Namjoon’s so fucking satisfied, pride exuding from his body as he looks down at you on his bed, being fucked senseless as he drills his cock in and out of you, loud slapping and squelching sounds making it even more obscene.

"You take me so well, shit, such a good girl." Namjoon groans, hypnotized by the way your body rocks with the force of his thrust.

You could die a happy woman just from the way he praises you. His words making your stomach twists in what you’re sure will be another mesmerizing orgasm.

"I could fuck you all night, baby, and I just know you’d take it."

"Yeah, Namjoon— I, I would." You yelp. "I will."

He has the audacity to chuckle.

"I’ll hold you up on that offer later."

You’re already so close again. God, you don’t wanna come like this, you don’t wanna come so soon.

"Namjoon?" You call and he hums in response. "I wanna ride you."

Did he win the lottery or something? He feels like he doesn’t deserve it. God, he missed like, three essay deadlines this semester, he definitely doesn’t deserve it.

"Fuck, yeah, baby, you can ride me."

He slips out of you, and wastes no time crawling to sit at the headboard.

Namjoon reaches out to hold you, helping you straddle him with your wobbly legs. He laughs when you take a deep breath, goosebumps all over your skin.

"You sure you can ride me, though?"

"Shut up" you hiss, trying to concentrate before you wrap your hand around his length and lift over him to align him with your entrance.

A shaky cry falls from your lips as you gradually sink in his dick. The stretch is completely different and his fat cock splits you open so deliciously that you somehow feel even fullen than before.

"Fuck, I love this position." He reads your thoughts.

You just nod, unable to think as you find purchase on his shoulders. When you’re finally fully seated, you feel like Namjoon's cock is touching your soul.

"Fuck, Namjoon, you’re huge."

His face is all scrunched up, brows knit together in pleasure, and you’re almost angry at how beautiful this man is. The nerve.

"God, this pussy so fucking tight."

You take a deep breath, and swiftly roll your hips over him. Namjoon’s head thumb back and you feel so fucking powerful when his hands grab your ass, trying to guide you over him to reproduce the feeling. So you grind on him again, making his cock reach spots you didn’t even know you had.

After rolling a bit more on his lap, you muster all the strength you can and lean back, planting your palms on his thighs — have you mentioned how fucking beautiful his thighs is? — before slowly raising yourself.

The second time you drag your pussy down his length is even more delicious, and it makes you feel so good that you feel like this is wrong in some way.

Ok, who are you kidding?

You’re both pure sin at this point. There’s no turning back from the obscenities you two said tonight.

So yeah, fuck it.

You try to focus as you slowly start to move your hips up and down, regretting all the times your friends tried to convince you to exercise and you didn’t, because you can’t seem to find a pace.

But Namjoon, so very attentive to your needs, grabs your hips, helping you establish a sluggish pace — but a pace nonetheless.

You gradually start to feel more comfortable, more capable, and Namjoon’s grip on your waist is now more for his own sake than yours when your movements speed up.

Soon enough, you’re riding him in earnest, in a hard rhythm that makes you meet his pelvis each time, his thighs quiver under your weight in the most gorgeous way as you send Namjoon to the places he not long ago made you visit.

A proud grin settles on your face, watching him grunt with each stroke.

"You're so good for me, baby, letting me fuck you like a good boy" you echo his words, almost teasing, but your shaky tone betrays you.

"You fuck me so good, princess."

Shit, you feel lightheaded.

Namjoon bites his lip, eyes transfixed on your bouncing tits. He takes your boobs in his palms, caressing and grasping them softly, your sounds music to his ears.

Your gaze falls to his neck, not nearly enough marked by you, so you dive to his throat, tongue licking up to his ear before you start to kiss and suck harshly at his pulse points, making him moan loudly into your ear.

"You’re so sweet and big for me" you say, clenching around him and you feel his dick twitching inside.

"Shit, baby, do it again." He asks, and you promptly close your walls around him again.

Namjoon’s not sure how long he’ll last with you on top of him like this, riding the soul out of his body while your lips worship his neck. But he needs you to come first — or rather, again, but this time around his throbbing cock.

Thankfully you’re not far. Your lower belly is contracting, nearing your high, and you’re so gone that you could tell Namjoon you love him at this point, you don’t even care — and you don’t think he does either.

"You’re so good for me, my pretty girl."

His? Shit, can you have that on paper?

"All yours, baby."

You yelp when Namjoon’s thumb finds your clit and starts rubbing you. The pad of his fingers spreads your wetness over your bundle of nerves, your heart ramming against your ribcage.

"Baby, I’m… I’m close." You're fucking panting, that's what you are.

"Thank god." He breaths. "Can I take over, princess?"

You nod, and Namjoon circles his strong arm around your waist, turning you without slipping his dick off of you.

When he suits himself above you, you immediately wrap your legs around his torso, and Namjoon starts to fuck you like he’s made for it. Fuck, why does he feel like he is, though?

His thrusts are relentless, but he uses his last working braincell to aim his cock against the spots he’s learned that make you cry louder — which you do.

Your hands grip at his hair, tugging hard as your head falls back.

You have to gather all the focus you possibly can to open your mouth, your voice barely a whisper.

"Choke me, baby."

Namjoon gulps.

"What."

"Please, choke me."

"Shit, princess." Is this what dying feels like?

Namjoon closes his hand around your neck, fingers pressing down your pulse points as he feels your erratic heartbeat slightly soothing under his fingertips. Why is this so hot?

Your every sensation is heightened. His cock heavenly railing you, his hot breath fanning against your sweaty skin, the loud sounds that fall both from where your bodies meet and from his mouth.

It takes barely a minute before white spots blur your vision. The tight not in your stomach snaps so fucking hard a scream leaves your parted lips.

Namjoon wants to know how to immortalize the way your face scrunches up when you come — would you let him do it again just so he can take a picture?

The force of your orgasm makes your pussy clench hard around his cock, and you milk him and your body quivers violently. When your back arches from the bed, his bed, he swears you’re the most beautiful person he’s ever seen.

His thrusts become shallow, and you’re still rocking with the afterwaves of your orgasm, fighting through the overstimulation when Namjoon feels his own high approaching, so he quickly pulls himself out of your cunt.

He rips the condom off of his cock, tossing it wherever for him to mind later, and starts to pump himself above you. And what a fucking sight to behold.

"Come for me, baby, you’ve been so good, I want you to come all over me."

And like the good boy he is, Namjoon immediately does.

His hot white cum paints your belly just like he promised, a guttural groan leaving his throat as he empties himself over your stomach until he’s thoroughly spent.

You look down, wetting your lips before you bring your finger to your belly. You collect his cum with a flicker of your finger, and take your hands to wrap your mouth around, tasting his salty orgasm with a satiated hum.

Namjoon shudders. In that second, he wants nothing more than to come again just to see you eat his cum out of yourself once more.

"You’re a fucking menace, you know that?"

You smile innocently, and he falls beside you on his sheets.

Namjoon’s breath is uneven, and he brings his hands to push his hair out of his face.

You turn to him, a large grin on your lips. Namjoon’s eyes find yours.

"What?" His lips curve upwards.

"Fuck, sweet boy, I think I’m in love."

You two start giggling, you shake your shoulders in pure mirth while his laugh reverberates all through his body — you both find those sounds just as attractive as the obscenes ones you were eliciting just now.

It takes some time before your shared amusement softly becomes small snickers.

"Still with the sweet thing?"

"You’re the best I’ve ever had, baby, you’re definitely my sweet boy." He takes his lips in his teeth, shaking his head.

"I’m the best, huh?"

"Hell, yeah, I’m fucking giggling, Namjoon. Really, what the fuck."

"You’re the best pussy I’ve ever had. I honestly couldn’t be happier your brother bailed on you."

"Shut up." You playfully shove his shoulder, chuckling.

"Seriously, though, introduce me to him, I need to thank him."

"Don't ruin it." You joke.

You both fall into a comfortable silence, collecting your breaths.

"Wait, be right back."

Namjoon lazily gets on his feet, grabbing the used condom from the floor and heading to his bathroom, closing the door.

He returns a couple minutes after, a towel in his hand as he crawls back to bed and starts to gently clean your stomach, reaching your pussy and easing the mess he’s made of you.

"Thanks."

"Don’t mention it." You try to get out of bed, but your shaky legs make you stumble as you get up.

Namjoon quickly helps you steady yourself, a proud smile curving his lips.

"Can I use your bathroom?"

"Sure."

"Uhm… also, do you mind if I stay the night?" You ask, glancing at the clock on his bedside table, noting it’s way past one in the morning.

"Princess, I expect you too." Namjoon smirks. "We’re not nearly done."

Namjoon somehow can look even better in the morning.

You wake up feeling his serene heartbeat beneath your ear, his arms enveloping you and your legs entangled.

You’ve been just peacefully staring at him for around ten minutes now.

At first it was because you feel like you’ve been hit by a bus, sore to the bones. But then, it was because he’s just so damn beautiful you couldn’t help it.

He takes a deep breath, stretching his limbs as he wakes up, yawning loudly. You inch closer and give him a quick peck on his cheek, before resting your chin on his chest.

"Good morning, pretty girl" he smiles, opening his eyes and tugging you closer.

"Morning, sweet boy."

"How long you’ve been awake?"

"Not sure. Ten minutes?"

"Wow, and you’ve just been staring at me? That's so creepy." You roll your eyes, and he chuckles.

Neither of you speaks for another couple of minutes, bathing in the calmness of the morning.

"You ok?" He asks.

"Yeah. Really sore, though."

"Well, you asked for it."

"I did, didn’t I?" You grin. "And you gave it to me like the good boy you are." You tease, kissing his lips.

He reciprocates the touch, but neither of you takes it further.

So. Fucking. Tired.

"I see I wasn’t able to teach you how to behave."

"I’m a lost cause, but I appreciate the effort." He huffs out a laugh, closing his eyes.

"What time is it?"

You turn on his hold to face his clock. "Almost ten."

"Hum."

Namjoon doesn’t make any move to get up, and you start to look over his room. For some reason, you didn’t pay it the slightest attention the night before.

"You in college?" You ask, when you notice tons of books piled on the floor near his dresser.

"Yeah, in my last year."

"Uhm, so pretty boy is also intelligent." He snickers.

"My good looks can be deceiving."

"I was deceived indeed. You have such a dirty mouth, I was baffled." He shoves you away from his grip, groaning.

"You're one to say, the filthiest girl I’ve ever met."

"The filthiest? You flatter me." You laugh, as he playfully pushes you to the other side of the bed. "Oh c’mon, you liked it."

He smiles. "Yeah, I did."

He’s so tender you almost feel shy.

"What do you study?"

"Literature."

"It suits you." You say, scanning his face.

"Thanks, I really like it. But what about you? Aren’t you in college?"

"I graduated last year."

"What you do?"

"Architecture."

"That’s nice."

"Yeah. I’m on a work trip, actually."

"You’re not from here?"

"No, I live in Busan."

"Oh. My roommate is from Busan."

"You have a roommate?" You ask, mortified, but Namjoon chuckles.

"Don’t worry, he was out. He didn’t hear the way you were screaming last night." You shake your head, a smile on your face. Namjoon breathes deeply before lifting to a sitting position on the bed. "Want some breakfast?"

"Yeah, I’d like that. Let me just use the bathroom real quick."

"Ok. Do you like toast? That’s basically the only thing I can make."

"Finally!"

"What?" He frowns.

"Finally you have a flaw, oh my god, I was losing hope" you say dramatically, raising your arms.

"Can't have you falling in love now, can I?" He jokes and you laugh.

Namjoon gets out of bed and you follow, heading for the bathroom and closing the door behind you.

He smiles to himself, shaking his head.

He makes his way to his kitchen, finding his roommate already there, eating his breakfast.

"Morning." He announces himself, and Jimin turns to him.

"Hey, man" he smiles mischievously, cocking his head in the direction of your clothes lying on the floor "how was the party last night?"

Namjoon's brief concern for forgetting to gather the clothes you took off in the kitchen quickly dissolves into a smirk.

"The party? Oh, I kept it in my room."

"All night?"

"All fucking night." They both chuckle. "She’s in the bathroom, so please be civil when she comes here."

Namjoon goes to his cabinets, grabbing some bread to prepare you something to eat.

"Sure, man."

"What about you? You arriving now?"

"I came home around six, I think, so I just crashed. Woke up half an hour ago."

"And how was it with that guy?"

"It was mid. But hey, it was worth the shot. Even if he has no fucking game he's still hot as fuck."

"Sorry to hear that." Jimin shrugs.

"And what about this girl, huh?"

"Man, this girl…" Namjoon trails off, shaking his head "so fucking hot, I felt like I was dreaming."

"Really? You seeing her again then?"

"Don’t think so, she’s not from here."

"That’s too bad."

"Yeah, it’s whatever. By the way, do you wanna hang out later? There’s this music festival going on and I have no one to go with."

"Don't know, I’m probably going out with my sister today, she flew from Busan to see me."

"Oh nice. Maybe you could introduce us."

"Yeah, if she’s down maybe we can all go together to this festival." Namjoon nods.

He leans on the counter, facing Jimin, and smiles once he sees you coming from the hall.

"Hey, pretty girl."

Jimin turns back when Namjoon acknowledges you.

"Oh, hey sis!" Jimin greets automatically — before freezing completely.

Both yours and Namjoon’s eyes widen in terror.

"Chim?!"

"Wait— she’s your sister!?"

"Jimin’s your roommate from Busan?"

You stand still in the hallway, watching mortified as your brother's face contorts in a grimace, realization hitting him before he shoots his friend a deadly glare.

"God, Namjoon, you fucked my sister?!"

"I didn’t know it was your sister!"

"Man, you’re fucking gross!"

"The fuck’s that supposed to mean?!" You ask, indignant.

"My sister’s not hot!"

"Jimin?!"

"Can’t agree with you on that one, man, sorry." Namjoon argues.

"Those are my sister’s clothes, man?" He continues, ignoring what his friend said for his mental health’s sake, before he turns to you. "And you’re wearing his clothes? What the fuck?!"

"Jimin, stop being a child."

"You came to Seoul to fuck my roommate?!"

"You’re the one who stood me up last night. To fuck, may I remind you."

"Thanks for that, by the way." Namjoon interjects, winking at you, and a small smile crosses your lips before Jimin groans, exasperated.

"Seriously, man?! And what the hell happened to your neck, did he fucking punch you?"

"God, no! I just cho—"

"Shut up! God, I can’t fucking look at your two right now, unbelievable." He says, getting up in a hussle before striding to his room, cursing under his breath.

You and Namjoon are left alone in the kitchen, silence filling the room.

You gauge his expressions, realizing he’s doing the same.

"Thank fuck he wasn’t here last night." Namjoon says after a while, and you can’t contain the laugh that escapes past your lips.

"You really had to thank him, though?" Namjoon bites his lips.

"I'd feel bad if I didn't. Mom taught me to be grateful." He bites his lip. "Do you still want that toast?"

You smile. "Sure, sweet boy."

note ↠ sooooo, what do you think? i really hope you guys enjoyed it as much as i did! it took some time for me to finally be satisfied with it, and i have like, ten versions lost somewhere in my google docs lmao links ↠ navigation | masterlist | join my permanent taglist

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ahundredtimesover · 1 year

Text

Untitled | KNJ

Pairing: Namjoon x (f.) Reader

Genre/Tags: idolverse (no explicit mentions of BTS), strangers au; angst, smut

Warnings: foul language, inexplicit smut (making out, non-descriptive penetrative sex) (18+)

Word count: 16k

Summary: For years as a sculptor, you felt detached from your own work - unable to title them, describe them, name the most basic emotions that artists should be in tune with. A chance encounter with a man one winter night finds you in a journey of finding your own meaning. And as you slowly discover what it means to create and to feel, you find out that this might also be what pulls both of you far apart.

A/N1: It’s been tough being on a writing slump and not being able to come up with something new, but then Indigo happened. I’ve been so into Closer and been wanting to write something that would encapsulate the song’s emotions, but the more I listened to NJ talk about his album (especially Yun), the more I got to reflect on so many other things. So here we are. This was a quick write (and an experiment, too!) filled with my own ramblings and questions that only one Kim Namjoon would prompt me to have. Please enjoy.

A/N2: I’m not an artist, but I’m fascinated by them and what they create (Van Gogh’s Digital Art Exhibition in the LUME, Melbourne from last September just blew my away). In another life, I probably would’ve been a collector. But the essence of humanity in my professional work links to my own appreciation of art in that sense. All the things that I wonder about life and the essence of being human are reflected here. I’ve taken from Namjoon’s reflections and insights as well, and once again, I was reminded of his brilliance and his heart.

2020, early winter

A little boy with a bucket painting stars in the sky.

That’s what this season’s artwork on the side of the building is. Just this fall, it was a girl raising a paper airplane on this exact spot; in the summer, it was another kid on a swing, and in spring, it was a child with an opened suitcase, their toys falling out and drifting into a stream.

Lost childhood, perhaps. That’s what happens when the world stands still, Namjoon thinks. He’d written a song about it - the things we lost during the time when time froze, and maybe just like these paintings, life continued to go on. The yearning remains, though, and he can see it on the piece that he’s been looking at for minutes now.

Maybe the artist is young, mourning their own youth that slipped from their fingers. Maybe it’s someone a little older, mourning it for others. Maybe it’s just a person who’s trying to understand the situation through a child’s eyes - with innocence, confusion, trust. Maybe it’s—

The sound of footsteps disrupts Namjoon’s thoughts. It’s 2AM and he’s a little surprised that someone is in the area at this time. It’s a busy street during the day and the crowd falls away early. It’s completely deserted by this hour; it’s why he likes taking this route from the office to his apartment. He’s always liked walking home regardless of the distance, but it’s at night when he feels most free, and it’s become something he looks forward to everyday.

He’s about to turn away when he notices a figure run up to the small building where the painting he was just admiring is. The individual lays their bag on the floor and retrieves a paintbrush and a pail, seemingly about to continue their work that Namjoon didn’t even realize was still unfinished.

“Fuck,” the voice curses out. “Fuck fuck fucking shit. Why do I always forget my hot packs!”

The person removes their mask and blows into their cupped hands, rubbing them after in hopes of sustaining the heat from the friction.

“Just a bit more,” they continue, gloved hand now pointing ripples by the boy’s legs as he stands in a body of water. “Just a bit more.”

As chattering teeth and the blowing of air on hands continue, Namjoon decides to make himself known. The stranger is clearly trying to finish their work - and he’s curious to see this all unfold, finding amusement in watching an artist in action - but the cold air is quite uncomfortable.

“Hey,” he says, as the figure stops their movements. “I’m not a creep, I promise. I was just looking at your work but you’re freezing and I… I’ve got some extra hot packs with me.”

You slowly turn around with furrowed brows. This is the first time you’ve come across another person during the early mornings you paint on this specific building. You’ve gotten used to the emptiness of this street at this time, but somehow, hearing this man’s deep, rough voice is giving you comfort. Especially since he’s offering something you need.

“Sure, that would be great,” you say, blowing into your hands again.

He slowly walks forward - clad in a thick hoodie and beanie, his mask covering half of his face. He looks familiar, but you don’t have much time to place where you know him from. You take the hot packs he offers, squeeze one with your free hand while the other continues on with the piece that you want to finish tonight.

“Will it take much longer?” He asks, his voice kind. “I didn’t know it was unfinished and it’s quite interesting to see an artist complete their work. So, uh, can I watch?”

You turn towards him. On a normal day, you’d turn him away. You’re not too keen on anyone on your ass while you finish something, but he doesn’t seem like a creep and he was kind enough to give you hot packs at a time like this, so you nod.

It doesn’t take long. It’s just some ripples and a few strokes left anyway; you were freezing too much last night so you put off the final details for tonight. And then the last bit. You sign your name on the bottom corner, and a gasp leaves the stranger’s mouth.

“Wait, you’re Blue…” he says, the realization dawning on him. “

“Surprise,” you reply, standing up from your squatting position.

“I mean, I figured since you’ve been painting children and their lost youth this past year but… the man in the rain, the distorted face on the mirror, the hand on the neck… those were you, too.”

Namjoon can’t believe he’s finally face-to-face with the artist whose work has been haunting him since he first came across one on an electric post 3 years ago.

They were in other parts of the city. He remembers seeing them on walls and buildings during his walks home or when he was in the car, and then some weeks later, they were gone, either replaced with a new piece of work or just painted over, as if it never existed. He’d seen the signature a few times, and seeing it again reminded him that it was you, too. The one who’d created those masterpieces that got him thinking, feeling, wondering.

“You have a good memory,” you simply smile at him, realizing at this point that you’ve left your mask off. You put it back on and take in his domineering form. “Those were years ago; I’ve almost forgotten about them.”

“I haven’t. I mean, sort of.”

“Good. That was the point,” you reply. “I mean, sort of.”

“The point being? That I find something that speaks to me and then the next minute, they’re gone?” He says, quite defensive. It bothered him for a time that he never got to see those pieces again.

“What did they make you feel?”

“Desolate? Alone? Confused? Desperate?”

“Then you forgot about them, didn’t you?”

“The paintings, sort of. Not the feeling, though,” he frowns. “I still think about them but… I think I’ve forgotten exactly what they look like. Is that what you wanted?”

“Pretty much,” you hum, starting to pack your things. “The stuff I leave on for a few weeks are mostly sad, and I paint over them because I don’t want people to dwell on them. I want people… to forget, to move on.”

“But they don’t, not really. I’m sure they’ve taken photos if it spoke to them so much. At least I did, but then I deleted them because…”

“Because you got over the sadness,” you smirk, knowing that somehow, he proved your point, and he lets out a chuckle at the realization. “It may be on their phones but it’s not the real thing. The image may be distorted, the colors different, the strokes a lot smoother. It’s not the same.”

“They should be preserved,” he voices out. “It’s art. Those things are meant to be immortalized, no matter how they make people feel.”

“Not always,” you counter. “At least for me, I make those to forget. The feelings fade once the art does. I created them that way.”

“Hmm,” Namjoon hums, taking this time to observe you, as you’d rendered him speechless.

There’s this softness in your eyes that contrasts the words you say. He doesn’t want to imagine what you might’ve gone through to create hauntingly beautiful pieces inspired by feelings you want to forget.

Whatever those are, he truly does wish you’ve let those go. He knows he has. But he still disagrees - he doesn’t think art ever fades. Perhaps feelings do, but he’s come to learn that visual art is eternal.

“So how long will you keep this up?” He asks, wondering when he’d see you again; the allure and intrigue from your words makes him want to know more.

“Until the next season,” you say, picking up your bag now. “It’s been a tough year and I hope the spring brings more hope.”

“But you also don’t want them to dwell on this… the loss of childhood, of youth,” he continues. “You want them to move on from this, focus on what’s to be gained after losing something important.”

“You’re a fast learner,” you wink, and Namjoon surprises himself by the way his heart jumps at the sight. “You must be a genius or something. Or an artist yourself.”

“Neither,” he lies. “I mean, I’m barely anything, really.”

“I doubt it. A guy like you being affected by all this means you’re something, whatever it is.”

There’s something validating about your words, and he smiles behind his mask, something you see, as you smile back.

It’s odd, feeling a sense of connection with a stranger like this, something he’s never really experienced, most times because he’s always wary of who he meets, especially at this time of the night. But you don’t seem to know who he is. And if you do, you don’t seem to mind or want to make a deal out of it, something that he appreciates.

There’s comfort in your smile, and he wants to discover what other things cause it. There’s a dearth of experience in your words, and he wants to know more. There’s a tenderness in your eyes that he wants to mirror; he wishes he can give comfort to someone just by looking at them.

Maybe it’s the cold breeze. Maybe it’s the fact that it’s the end of the year and he’s spending it alone again. Maybe it’s spending an entire day cooped up in his studio only to go home to an empty apartment. Maybe it’s knowing what a year it was and what’s about to come. He didn’t think that a stranger in a yellow puff jacket who cursed so crisply would be the one to make his walk back home not feel so lonely. That the woman who’d casually painted some ripples and splashes on the wall was the one who’d make him feel a little less alone.

“So, uh, do you usually paint at the start or end of the season?” He wonders.

“Are you trying to ask when you’re gonna see me again?” You look at him with an arched brow.

“Maybe,” Namjoon chuckles. He’s also just trying to delay your departure, seeing as you seem to be ready to leave.

He doesn’t want to ask your name, not ready himself to share who he is. But perhaps the next meeting won’t be as serendipitous as this.

“It depends,” you tease. “But maybe I’ll see you again, either here, or elsewhere.”

“I hope it’s soon,” he confesses. He’s being bold, but his eyes light up when you reply.

“I hope so, too.”

Namjoon walks the opposite direction of where you are headed, turning back once to look at you, and catching your eyes when he does.

Winter passes. His busy schedule doesn’t permit him to take this route for a while, and it’s mid-spring when he sees a new painting that’s been completed - a young girl looking through a glass window to a world outside, her fingers holding onto the latch as she readies to open it. A small smile forms on his face; he at least sees something of you, even if it isn’t you.

The next time he’s able to pass by, it’s the end of summer, and all he sees is a gray wall - empty, undisturbed, as if there was nothing there to begin with.

2021, autumn

The bell rings as Namjoon enters the building, an art gallery that he’s been frequenting the past few months. There are new pieces, he’s been told, and one of the curators that he’s become friends with informed him that some of the artists are in town.

He nods in greeting at familiar faces - employees, artists, casual visitors. He walks around, taking in the new paintings and sculptures displayed. As he turns towards one of the smaller rooms, a piece catches his eye.

It’s something he’d seen before, a piece of ceramic sculpted in such a way that it looks like a flower in one angle, a seashell in another. And, dare he say, a vulva from a little farther away.

He reads the label. Untitled 56, Samantha Lee.

Namjoon goes through the photos on his phone, knowing it was a trip to LA over 2 years ago where he’d encountered something similar.

And there it is. Untitled 48, Samantha Lee.

He took the photo from an angle that looked like flowers, thinking about the simplicity and beauty, the choice of colors, and how they hung on the wall as part of the installation. It was one of many pieces he documented, but was the only one he didn’t get much story from. There was no description, no background. He wasn’t quite sure what to feel.

“Find something that interests you?”

Mr. Hong is one of the founders of this gallery, and he spends much of his time getting to know the regular visitors and the artists. He’s definitely someone who knows when something strikes Namjoon, like right now.

“Samantha Lee,” Namjoon responds. “Are they a local artist? I think I saw their work in LA some time ago.”

“Ah, yes Ms., uh, Ms. Lee. She’s a local and has her pieces displayed in several galleries. She’s here, actually,” Mr. Hong excitedly shares, noting how important it is for the Kim Namjoon to meet one of the artists. “She was supposed to come yesterday but decided to drop by today instead. Would you like to meet her?”

“Ah, that would be great,” Namjoon smiles back. “If she is fine with that, of course.”

Mr. Hong is never sure if the said artist is, but Namjoon is a special guest, he thinks, so the older man nods. “I’ll lead you to her.”

Namjoon is led up a small flight of stairs and out to a patio with more installations displayed. He spots several people outside, and he tries to determine which one of them is the artist he wants to meet, perhaps ask why she’d untitled all her pieces, and why there’s nothing of her at all that she chooses to share.

He stops in front of two women as instructed by Mr. Hong.

“He’s a fucking asshole, that’s what he is,” a familiar voice spits out. “The next time he harasses you, I’m going to impale his dick with my heels and—”

“Ehem,” Mr. Hong clears his throat, prompting both women to look at him. “Ms. Lee, one of our patrons would like to meet you.”

He shares a look with the woman before she nods and smiles. She turns to Namjoon where he’s met with familiar tender eyes, eyes he’s been yearning to see since that cold winter night.

“Blue?” He asks, surprised.

“My favorite color, yes. How did you know?”

You look at the man in front of you, tall and broad with caramel skin and a smile that could melt even the coldest of hearts. You’ve seen this smile before. Even behind a mask, you could tell it’s him, the man who’d saved your ass that one cold winter night with his extra hot packs and his calming voice.

You thought you’d see him again, seeing as he seemed to want to, but he never came that spring. You even left a small, ridiculous note at the corner where your signature usually is, asking when he’d come, thinking he’d communicate with you there. But the response never came.

The universe is tricky sometimes. You passed up on coming to the gallery yesterday because you felt dizzy when you woke up. And of all days that your winter night man visits, it’s the one where you’re here.

“I just figured,” Namjoon smiles, picking up your hints. “It’s one of mine, too.”

“Perhaps we should talk about the complexities of the color, then,” you smile back, nodding towards one of the sections in the large patio.

You lead him there, leaving Mr. Hong and his warning gaze and your assistant, whose smirk and teasing laughter makes you glare at her.

“I’m guessing they don’t know about you being Blue?” Namjoon asks, feeling a little jittery standing next to you again and being able to see your face much more clearly, your hair tied loosely in a bun and your clothes a nice fit for the cool weather.

“Minji does. She helps me find materials,” you respond. “Mr. Hong doesn’t. He’s not much of a fan of street art.”

“That’s a bummer, especially since one of the artists creates amazing pieces on buildings and posts and then signs them, then abandons them, and leaves spectators like me to wonder where they’d gone,” Namjoon replies, hoping you don’t find offense with his tiny jab.

Your chuckle tells him you don’t. “You never came.”

“I didn’t know when to,” he defends. “Well, more like, I stopped having the time. That place is so far from where I live and I only walk from my office because I like that time alone and I haven’t had that, but then I came back in the summer but you—”

“You don’t have to explain,” you assure him. “That was a chance meeting and I didn’t really expect I’d see you again in the same spot weeks later.”

“Did you expect to see me this time?”

“Oh, not at all,” you shake your head. “Why are you even here?”

“Why are people ever in art galleries?” He counters. “To check out the art. Maybe chance upon the artists if they’re here.”

“I guess,” you shrug, turning a corner to a small maze of an installation. “You wouldn’t have known it was me, though.”

“I didn’t. I was staring at Untitled 56 and realized I took a photo of Untitled 48,” he reveals, earning him a shocked look from you. “It was in LACMA. I saw it a while back. The name rang a bell because I don’t know anything about you. You leave so much to the imagination, Ms. Lee. There’s nothing about y—”

“It’s Han,” you correct him, feeling comfortable now. “I mean, Han ___. Samantha Lee is another pseudonym. Or like a stage name. You know, like you?”

You bite your lip at the slip-up, not wanting him to be uncomfortable at the thought that you clearly know who he is. But he just nods, affirming that he now knows that you know who he is, but he smiles right after, his eyes turning into the smallest, prettiest crescents and his dimples framing his strong-featured face that makes him even more handsome.

“I suppose you’re right,” he hums. “But why blue? And why Samantha Lee?”

“It’s the simpler version of my favorite color. Aegean blue is too complicated to sign every time,” you chuckle. “And Samantha Lee… Well, she was my roommate back in college and she once told me she wanted to be famous and the only way that could happen is if I used her name as a pseudonym. I had a crush on her so I agreed.”

There’s a long pause before Namjoon realizes that you’re not joking, and he comments that it’s interesting but he doesn’t ask again.

“I’m Kim Namjoon, by the way,” he reaches out his hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

“Likewise,” you say, internally melting at the feel of his warm and large hand. “So why did you take a photo of Untitled 48?”

“It looked like a clam.”

At this, you burst into laughter.

“I don’t mean it in a bad way, just to be clear!” He insists. “It was beautifully made. It was of a neutral color but it somehow stood out the most to me in that section. And it was the 48th; I wondered why they didn't have titles. And your 56th, which looks like—”

“A vulva,” you snort.

“Yes,” he chuckles, “and a flower, yeah - something I’ve been into lately. And well, it was interesting. And seeing your piece here reminded me of that,” he goes on. “And I just wanted to know… why.”

“Why what?” You furrow your brows at him.

“Why those pieces? Why are they untitled? What prompted you to create them that way?”

“We’d probably have to tour the gallery 4 more times if you want to know,” you chuckle.

“I have time.”

“Do you?” You ask, eyeing the phone in his pocket that's been vibrating for the last 5 minutes.

He smiles shyly and excuses himself. When he returns, he has a disappointed look on his face. “Turns out, I don’t have time. But I want to. I… uh, will you be here again anytime this week?”

“I will. I’m just not sure when.”

There’s something alluring with these coincidental meetups. Somehow you want more of those, perhaps to let the universe tell you that you’re meant to constantly meet this man whose time you know you’ll never have enough of, even if he makes it for you.

“Let me see you again?”

“You will.”

You catch his eyes when he turns back as he walks away. There’s a sparkle in them, and you’re afraid to want to see it once more.

The walk to the site of the lost youth is a long one, but not knowing when you’d see the tall man with the prettiest smile again, you head there.

Your last piece was of a child at the brink of freedom, about to take the step outside the cage she’d been in for the past year and a half. You painted over it once autumn started; maybe the next time you’d paint over a building, you’re no longer yearning for lost things. Maybe you’d paint something about finding something new.

“I’m gonna start believing in a higher power if we continue meeting like this.”

The raspy voice is familiar, and you turn around to see Namjoon, clad in a hoodie and a baseball cap, leaning against one of the streetlights across the empty wall of the building you’d been staring at. It’s been 2 days since you saw him at the gallery, about 7 months since the first time you’d encountered him here. You’re unsure what this all means.

“Maybe you should,” you head towards him. “I missed the last bus so I decided to walk home. I’m still far away but this is on the way. Why are you here?”

“Stayed up at the studio,” he replies. “I’m incredibly exhausted but I don’t know, I got the energy for the long walk. Then there you were.”

“There I was, appearing so suddenly again, yeah?” You chuckle, leaning on the opposite side of the pole.

Namjoon merely hums before he nods towards the direction of his apartment. “I’m heading there.”

“Me, too.”

With his hands in his hoodie pockets and yours crossed against your chest, you try to match his long strides.

“Painting came first,” you say, as if answering the question that he’s been thinking of asking. “Painting was everything. We had so many pieces in our home, and it’s as if they spoke to me. I mean, in a not creepy way, it felt like all of my parents’ own pieces spoke to me. And they always told me I wasn’t good enough.”

Namjoon turns to look at you with empathy in his eyes. He lets you speak, and he finds out that both your parents are the artists he’d been researching lately. Your father is a classical painter, and your mother does contemporary. He can’t imagine living in gigantic shadows like that.

“When I was 15, my parents pulled strings to get some of my pieces displayed with theirs,” you sigh, recalling the mixed emotions then. “It was exciting at first, but the patrons wouldn’t mention my name unless they mentioned my parents’. And then one of my favorite pieces that I made was sold to a man who wanted it as a decoration in his summer home’s living room.”

Namjoon slows his walk and you match his pace. You meet his comforting eyes, and there’s that warmth you feel from, technically, a stranger that you didn’t expect.

“I made that piece at a time when I was frustrated living in my parents’ shadows,” you continue. “Someone once told me that art is meant to be shared, that there’s humanity in the community we create when it’s shared, that the meaning deepens when others make their own. That piece had so much of me in there; I felt like the meaning of that piece was stripped away from me the moment that stranger took home that canvas for a select few to look at. It wasn’t mine anymore, it was his; it was theirs. I stopped painting after that.”

There’s a certain kind of pain in giving up something that matters deeply to you, in losing meaning in the thing that’s given your life meaning for most of your life. Namjoon knows a bit about that pain. Many times, he’d found himself questioning all that he does, what he stands for, and what the world expects him to be.

He sees that pain in your eyes, of losing a part of you as the art stopped meaning what you wanted it to. But he doesn’t think that all is lost.

“But your street art,” he reminds you. “That’s still you. That still has meaning. And that’s something that you share.”

“That’s Blue, though,” you manage a smile. “She’s just a part of me.”

“She’s still you,” he insists. “Can you tell me about her?”

And so you tell him - how you argued with your parents about quitting painting, how you were going to turn down the scholarship in a prestigious art university to take up sociology instead, so they shipped you to a foreign country to fend for yourself, and that’s when you learned what loneliness felt like. But that’s also when you learned about people in their rawest sense, what it meant to struggle to survive, what it meant to lose something that mattered, because you studied them - you studied how humans grieved and how they persisted. You studied how they lived and how they died.

“Blue wants meaning, and she still struggles in finding it,” you explain.

“Does she?” Namjoon questions. “I’m in my late 20s but your lost youth series resonated with me. All those paintings of the man in the rain, the distorted face… they’ve inspired me in ways I can’t explain. That’s meaning, ___. That matters.”

No one outside of Minji knows all these versions of you. Except Namjoon, the brightest star you never thought you’d ever meet. Hearing him speak about your work this way makes you feel something - a first in a long time.

“Thanks, I guess,” you say shyly.

“It’s a shame they’re not displayed in galleries and museums, though.”

“I don’t want them to,” you say, surprising him. “People intend to go to museums, but they pass these streets out of necessity. I want them to stop and look, to feel, to think for a few seconds before they go back to their routinary walk. And then I remove them, so they can forget what pain and sadness feel like.”

“Looks like you found your meaning, then,” Namjoon smiles, comforted by the fact that someone as talented as you had found purpose again, something he relates with at a deeper level than he imagined.

“The painter in me did,” you reply. “The sculptor, not so much. “

“Untitled,” he hums.

“Yeah. I don’t think I can name something I understand, or at least, feel,” you say.

“That’s a lot of untitled works for you to not understand what you do,” he chuckles.

“I’m prolific because there’s not much of me I lose when I create them,” you explain. “I just sit in my stool, craft something, then call it a day. Not to brag or anything, but it comes easy. They’re shallow pieces, Namjoon. They don’t even deserve to be in galleries but Mr. Hong insists they do for some reason. I wish this version of me, Samantha Lee, understood why it matters, why someone like him would believe in my pieces, why a Kim Namjoon would think that 48 stood out to him enough to keep a photo.”

Namjoon processes your words. As an artist himself, he believes in the meaning of the pieces that he creates, whether it’s a song or a poem or an album or a concert. There’s effort put into them even if it’s something created in 30 minutes. Your pieces are beautiful, and he wants to explore more - you and your meaning, you and your value.

“Then why do you keep making them? What about it makes you keep sculpting?”

“The feel of the clay on my skin, the way my fingers get to mold and create the details,” you explain. “I get to touch it. I don’t get to do that with painting, you know? It’s the paintbrush and the canvas I feel but with sculpting, I get to mix the materials, I get to shape it, hold it.”

“There’s that intimacy,” he offers.

“Yeah. And it’s addictive because it’s closeness I’ve never felt before.” You turn to him before speaking the next words. “It's an intimacy I’ve never experienced before with anyone or anything.”

“Isn’t that your meaning, then?” He questions. “The piece itself might not have a story on its own but all these untitled works, the process of creating, of it being easy because you can’t get enough of the intimacy you get from creating… that’s meaning. That desire for closeness, for meaning… that’s meaning.”

No one’s ever put it that way for you, probably because you’ve never let yourself be this honest with someone about your art. All your friends aren’t artists because you wanted that world separate, you didn’t want to have to talk about it feeling as insecure and lost as you are.

But Namjoon - he’s one of your generation’s greatest artists. He weaves words and sounds so beautifully to create masterpieces that people consume and hold so closely. He understands.

“I’ve made songs that took me 30 minutes,” he shares. “But I’ve also made songs that took me to dark places, that broke me as I wrote them. But once they came out, once I’ve shared them to others who’ve shared what it meant to them… slowly, I started becoming whole again. Isn’t that an artist’s burden? To break to create, to feel whole after that, and then to break all over again?”

“You are truly one of a kind, Kim Namjoon,” you tell him. “I’ve lived with artists my whole life and they never let me understand art in that way.”

“I’m still figuring it all out,” he shrugs. “I still feel lost sometimes, but I think it’s natural to feel that way, to be unsure or confused. I guess what matters is that we’re still walking on some road to somewhere, even if we don’t know where we’re heading.”

“Is that where you are right now?” You wonder. “On a road to somewhere you don’t quite know yet?”

More than you know, he wants to say. He’s in this period of experimentation, of figuring out his signature style, of figuring out who he is and what he means to his teammates, to the industry, to the world.

“Sort of,” he shrugs. “It’s hard sometimes. Walks like this give me a reprieve. Consuming other people’s art lets me understand things a bit more.”

“Yeah, I get it. I mean, conversing with strangers gives me time to breathe, too.”

“Ooh, so I’m still a stranger, huh?” He chuckles, shyly looking at you. “Our third unplanned meeting, an hour of walking home… and I’m still a stranger.”

“What would you want to be, then?” You turn to him, a little teasing smile on your face.

“A friend, for starters.”

“My nighttime friend?”

“Not just,” he shakes his head. “I would like to see you again, actually. And I don’t want to put this up to chance this time. Like, something planned or—”

“And how exactly would that work?”

“I, uh…” he thinks. “I’d invite you to my apartment. And you can invite me to yours?”

“Why?”

“Because I want to get to know you more, if that’s okay.”

“Are you always this bold?” You giggle, not missing the way your cheeks start to feel warm at the mention of visiting each other’s homes and him wanting to get to know you.

He’s obviously handsome - you’ve known of him since his band made it to your TV screens, being young men who were around your age, singing songs that resonate so deeply with you. But he’s more than that, as you’re learning. There’s this passion for creating that's refreshing, something you seem to lack.

“Not always,” he looks away, the dips in his cheeks something you’re sure you won’t get enough of.

“You should be. It makes a girl flustered but it makes it so difficult for her to say no,” you smirk. Sometimes, you also don’t know where your own boldness comes from.

“You? Flustered? That’s quite hard to believe,” he teases.

“That’s true. But it happens, believe it or not, when a gorgeous, brilliant man asks me over.”

Your heart stops for what feels like a minute, but his sweet, child-like laughter melts away your worry.

“Did I make you uncomfortable?” You ask.

“Surprisingly, no,” he replies. “I appreciate your honesty. About everything. I hope we can give that to each other.”

“Okay then, your turn,” you challenge.

“Hearing you curse was kinda hot.”

You try to hold off your laughter, your defense to your true reaction, which is to smile like an idiot and feel like floating.

“That’s interesting. I would’ve thought it’s something to do with my looks or my talent, you know?” You arch an eyebrow teasingly.

“It is. I think you’re beautiful. And I’m usually a forgetful person but I haven’t forgotten your sweet smile since I first saw it last winter,” he says, catching you off guard. “And your talent… there’s a reason why I have 48 saved on my phone, and why I sought out your street art these past years. I want to know what intimacy in art is like for you. I guess I’ve sort of lost that in creating my own.”

“Intimacy,” you repeat. “I think we both lack it in certain ways.”

“Maybe we’ll find it,” he says more confidently now, holding your gaze as your eyes trace his face.

“Maybe we will,” you respond, feeling your whole body warm with embers of fire.

He insists on taking you home, another 20-minute walk away from his. But you claim to enjoy that time on your own, assuring him that you do this all the time and the streets are safe.

“Let me know when you get home safely?” He asks, and you give him your phone for him to input his number.

“I will.”

It’s 30 minutes later when you do. It’s 1AM, but you and Namjoon spend the next 2 hours talking some more - about his songs and your pieces, about his plants and your collection of wind chimes.

You didn’t expect to make him laugh as much as you did, and he said he didn’t expect you to think his ramblings are adorable and amusing. You most definitely didn’t expect your heart to beat as fast as it did when he told you, in his deep, raspy voice, that he’s glad he took that long walk that winter, that he visited the art gallery when he did, that the hopeless romantic in him pushed him to go to the place you first met.

“I think I’m crazy but somehow I feel like I’ve known you for so long,” he muses.

“I feel the same way,” you assure him, as you hug your pillow and slowly surrender to sleep.

“Good,” he hums. “That’s all I wanted to know. Good night, ___. And I’ll see you soon.”

2021, winter

There’s a warmth in Namjoon’s home that’s hard to replicate. Filled with his favorite art pieces of all forms, he said he curated it to reflect his emotions just as much as his tastes. It’s clean and well-organized, with books on shelves and stacks on the floor, and an entire area full of liquor - his new interest, he’d said.

He’s had you over several times already; the first one, barely a week after that long walk home. You both spent hours that day talking about his favorite artists, and it wasn’t enough, as he asked you back the next day.

You often talk about your childhood, one that you weren’t always comfortable sharing, but being with him makes it easy.

It’s easy when he looks into your eyes when you speak, as if he’s telling you that he knows you say more than words. It’s easy when he’s got his own stories to share - stories of vulnerability and honesty, of fear and confusion. It’s easy when he still stutters over words sometimes and then gets lost in his own ramblings, then he chuckles when he realizes he’s talked so much, and you tell him that it’s okay because his voice is calming and his thoughts are a breath of fresh air.

It’s easy when his presence is comforting, when his anecdotes about his friends and family make you laugh until your insides hurt. It’s easy when he makes you feel like you can question everything about your art and your purpose and your abilities but he never makes you feel like a failure. It’s easy when he smiles and laughs nervously, when he’s funny without meaning to, and when he makes sure you’re comfortable by always having your preferred tea and biscuits next to the wine you once said is your favorite.

The only time it gets hard is when he stands a little too close as you look up at a painting or a book on a shelf. You could feel the heat from his body; a slight movement and you’d be touching, mere cloths in between you. It’s hard when his arm brushes the slightest bit against yours. It’s hard when he gazes at you when there’s silence, and it’s like he’s studying your face before you call him out and he apologizes because he “can’t stop looking at pretty things.”

It’s hard when he hugs you goodbye and he wishes you a safe ride home. It’s hard when he sends you a message right after, saying he wishes you both had more time.

Being attracted to Namjoon is hard; being attached to him is torture.

“You’re looking for him again,” Minji states the obvious as you walk around the gallery, your eyes darting to the door every time the bell rings.

“No I’m not,” you deny. “He just got back from his trip abroad and he’s tired. He won’t be coming here.”

“Doesn’t mean you wish he would,” she smirks. “But why rendezvous here? You guys go to each other’s houses. And no one goes to your house… aside from me.”

“We can’t exactly see each other in public, you know?” You glare at her. “But… I don’t know, it’s nice to see him look around and talk about what he sees. I feel like I learn more from him. And that’s weird, isn’t it? This is my field. The arts have been my entire life, but I’m learning more about it from him.”

“What is it about him?” She wonders.

She doesn’t say that she’s noticed more life in your eyes since he came into your life. She doesn’t say that she’s noted that you take more time creating pieces, seemingly savoring the process unlike the way you used to. She doesn’t mention the smile that she hasn’t seen in all the years that she’s known you.

“Passion is sexy, you know?” You giggle. “He has so much of it, it’s inspiring.”

“Is that all?” Minji smirks.

“He’s also fucking gorgeous. I try not to ogle him but I think he’s noticed. Fuck me.”

“Maybe he wants to.”

“Shut up. Don’t make me hope.”

“You do that to yourself,” she laughs. “Keep denying that you don’t want to see him or want anything more with him and let’s see how you do.”

The truth is, you know. You know that you’d fall hard if you let yourself go like that, but it’s human to know danger and then still want it, isn’t it?

The vibration from your phone ringing surprises you.

“Hey,” Namjoon’s voice booms on the other end.

“Hey,” you reply. “How was your trip?”

“Good. I just got home. We had to stop by the office for a bit. My place is a mess and we have something again in the afternoon,” he huffs, sounding incredibly tired. “Can I come over tonight?”

You almost drop the flute of champagne you’re holding. He’s been to your house twice, but this is the first time he’s specifically asked to come over, especially considering that he just arrived from a trip abroad.

“Of course,” you hum. “Any dinner preferences?”

“Your cooking,” he says simply. “But wait for me, okay? I’ll let you know when I’m on the way.”

“Okay,” you say, before dropping the call, unable to hide the wide smile that forms on your face, to your assistant’s amusement.

“Why don’t you try to let go this time?” She advises. “Maybe you’ll find the intimacy you’ve been longing for.”

Namjoon overestimates your cooking abilities. Truly, all you know to do is prepare ramyun and fry anything. But, compared to him, he’s said you’re chef level. “The guys” don’t even want him near the kitchen, he tells you all the time.

But instant noodles and pork belly seem enough for him, as he eats with his mouth closed and hums in satisfaction. You take the time to savor the way he looks. A few weeks without him has started to feel like months.

“It was overwhelming,” he finally says.

He knew the moment he landed that he wanted to see you. There’s comfort in your presence that he’s begun to accept, and being with you allows him to be honest, to feel real, to feel human.

“It was great to be able to perform again, to hear the cheers and the sounds and everything. It was also terrifying,” he continues. “I was nervous and excited, I was scared and elated. I felt so fulfilled and satisfied but I also felt like it wasn’t enough.”

“That’s a lot of conflicting emotions,” you hum.

“Are they? Conflicting, I mean.”

“It depends, I guess. They seem up and down to me. Does it bother you?”

“That I felt all that, all at once?”

You nod in response.

“It used to,” he admits. “At the start of all this, I thought, I can’t be scared. Six other guys and an entire company are looking to me to succeed. I have to be strong and confident. And then, an industry is waiting for me to fail. And then, my own country is letting me - us - represent an entire generation, it’s asking me to carry on this cultural wave. It never ends. And I used to think I couldn’t be scared, that not wanting all this anymore means I’m ungrateful.”

“But you aren’t,” you try to assure him. You can’t imagine the burden he feels, leading a group that feels all kinds of pressure. “I’ve heard you talk about your art and your poetry and your brothers and your fans. You’re easily the most passionate, hardworking, and appreciative person I know. I don’t think you’ll ever run out of things to give.”

“It’s tiring,” he sighs.

“I’m sure. But you’re honest about it. You’ve always been. Doesn’t honesty unburden you, even just a little bit? Doesn’t it leave you space to feel more, to be more?”

Namjoon hums. For someone who claims to not know much about feeling, you seem to know what to say to make him stop and think, to remind him of why he does what he does. And why ultimately, he’s always going to love it.

“It does,” he finally says, sitting up straight to take a better look at you in your linen pants and soft sweater. “Do you do that, then? Unburden yourself by being honest?”

“I’m not good at doing that,” you chuckle. “If you don’t know by now, I say a lot of seemingly profound things that I don’t necessarily live by.”

“Why not?”

“Honesty scares me. Being vulnerable scares me. I don’t know how to return it.”

“Has anybody ever been all that to you?” He wonders, feeling the tension build a little.

“Once” you say, standing from the dining table and heading to the large window that overlooks your garden. “And I ran away.”

“Is that why you sculpt, then?” Namjoon asks, walking towards you. “Because you don’t know what to do with intimacy so you do it with your art? You want to hold and touch what you walk away from? You don’t give it a name because you don’t want to define it? Because you’re scared that if you do, you’ll realize that you actually want it - the closeness, the warm body, the rawness that you can only get from being with someone else.”

You look up at him, towering over you. He came from a short filming, donned in a white, buttoned polo with his long sleeves rolled up to his elbows. You can see the darkness of his hazelnut eyes and the stubble on his chin. You spot the beauty mark on his neck and the smoothness of his skin, especially on his chest, as he leaves 2 buttons undone.

“Reading me now, Kim Namjoon?” You cock an eyebrow, trying to break the tension that’s built up in the last few minutes.

“I’m trying, because I want to get to know you more, find out what you’re afraid of and ease it somehow,” he admits. “Because I feel the same way. I’m honest but I’m scared, yet with you, I’m honest but I’m brave. I feel like I’m brave. I don’t know what it is, but ever since I met you, I just wanted…” he glances at your lips then meets your eyes again. “I just wanted to know more, to feel more. To understand what it’s like to be intimate with someone who doesn’t know much about it like me. I want to figure it out. With you.”

“How?”

One word is all you get to verbalize, as you feel him come closer, the heat of his body intensifying with every second. You’re backed up against the window, the distance between you and him decreasing and decreasing.

His eyes are boring into you, and you bravely gaze at him back. You mirror his desire, as you lick your lips when he glances at them again. Your chest is heaving as is his, and your heart races even more when he breathes out your name.

You palm his chest, and for a brief moment of uncertainty in his eyes at the thought of you stopping him, you instead grip the cloth that covers him, and you slowly pull him in.

His lips are soft. And the way he gently presses against you is tender, comforting, like he wants to savor it and go slow. He angles his head the same time his hand reaches for your waist, and you feel the slightest wetness from his tongue.

You grant him entrance, and the second you do, he takes control, tightening his hold on your body as he cages you, his one arm now propped up against the window. You moan into each other as tongues and teeth clash, and you can’t help your hand that travels to pull on the ends of his hair, brushing your fingers against the nape of his neck right after.

It’s a little sloppy, needy, but there’s still gentleness in there. It’s in the way he cups your cheek, caressing it with his large fingers and letting it slide down your chest, back to your waist. It’s in the way he smiles into the kiss when you moan your pleasure; you can almost feel his dimples as he does. It’s in the way that he asks for more, not with dominance but with care, with understanding, with caution.

You both pull away to catch some air, lips swollen and wet, but your smiles say you enjoyed it. The way your bodies haven’t completely detached from each other shows that.

“Would you let me stay the night?” He asks softly, as if it’s a request he’s afraid to ask.

“Yes,” you breathe out. “Be with me tonight.”

Underneath the covers of your bed, you lay in his arm while your fingers trace patterns on his taut chest. You can hear his heartbeat still drumming, and you can feel the care in the way he caresses your cheek, your arm, your waist.

“I don’t know what I can give you, Namjoon,” you admit. “I don’t know how to be as honest and vulnerable as you. I don’t know how to share parts of me that I don’t understand. I don’t know what I can do to ease all your worries and concerns. I—”

“Just give me moments,” he interjects. “Nights like this, days at our homes, afternoons at the galleries, hours on the phone… I just want to feel something that I can actually touch, that I can savor. And I want it to be you, the one I get to hold and taste and kiss.”

He leans forward again, and you capture his mouth in yours. There’s no need to do more - much as you’re wet and he’s definitely hard, but neither one of you is rushing, neither one wants to scare the other.

He’s hot, the kind that burns. That’s how it is with people as passionate as he is - their touch can light a fire on your skin, and you won’t be able to stop it.

“I can give you moments,” you whisper. “Just tell me.”

2022, spring

You can count the moments with 2 hands.

Namjoon stayed with his parents over the holidays but he videocalled you everyday. You both went to a few galleries outside the capital but did so separately, spending hours after that talking about the pieces over the phone.

You’ve come to appreciate your world much more deeply with his commentaries and reflections, and with you, he said he’d gotten to breathe a little longer, laugh a little louder, and feel a little more human.

He stayed over your place 4 more times; you stayed over at his thrice. You debated over movies and recommended each other books. It was common to spend the day wrapped up in each other on the couch while you both read separately. He made you listen to a few songs he’s been working on - some of which were inspired by your many conversations and your own musings, and you’d showed him sketches of your upcoming planned series on sculpted landscapes.

It’s freeing, being able to share about your world with someone else like this, and being part of someone else’s, too. Whatever it is you both have is freeing - kisses included, which never went beyond what you first did. Despite the obvious desire to do more, neither of you ever tried, perhaps knowing what it would entail. There’s distance between you and him but there also isn’t. There’s enough comfort and intimacy that you’ve only scratched the surface of, but this seems to be just enough.

“I have the weekend off,” he pants over the phone. It’s 11PM and they’ve just finished rehearsals for an upcoming series of concerts abroad. “Do you want to do something?”

“A trip to my parents’ summer home?” You wonder out loud. The spring air has come and you love going to the lake at this time. “It’s by the mountains and it’s really private. The estate is like their personal art museum with their works and others’. I visit every year. But if—”

“Yes, a hundred times yes,” he huffs. “That’s fucking amazing.”

“I know I got you at the art museum bit,” you laugh.

“You got me at the really private bit, actually,” he says seriously, causing your heart to race. “And the art of course. And you. Always you.”

“Alright, Casanova,” you tease. “Just make sure I don’t get in trouble for taking you somewhere weeks before you leave.”

“We’re alright,” he responds. “I can’t wait.”

It’s a 3-hour drive to the estate by the mountains. In the far future, your parents want to open it up for private viewing, and so you want to make sure that your art lover more-than-but-not-really-friend gets a first peek.

You spend the entire ride talking about a hundred topics, going off tangent when he rambles again, and you’re the one who circles him back to the original discussion. You hum tunes while he sings songs, and when you find private spots, you take the risk and take photos.

You make it to the estate in the late morning, and as you expected, Namjoon’s jaw drops.

The fountain at the front is an art piece itself. The front door was shipped from Indonesia, and the furniture are a beautiful curation of pieces from all over the world that were gifted to or bought by your parents.

You watch him gently trace the carvings and the details. You’re in awe as he absorbs the sculptures and paintings as you tour him around. And you melt every time he turns to you with the biggest smile on his face, like he’s discovering a secret that only both of you know. It’s breathtaking and absolutely precious.

“Keep looking at me like that,” he says, as he catches you marvel at him. “I like it when you look at me like you want me.”

“Don’t fluster me,” you say, turning away.

“You’re not denying it,” he counters, walking closer to you.

“I would be a liar if I did.”

“That’s good to know,” he hums, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “I know I only asked for moments but can this weekend be filled with that?”

He looks nervous, like you’d turn him down.

“I… it’s been tough, dealing with a lot of things,” he continues. He’s mentioned some difficulties lately, and you know there’s not much you can do about it. Except, maybe this. “I just want something to hold onto, like being here with you, experiencing all these art pieces, being close…”

He cups your cheek and gives you that look that you’ve become familiar with, his request for intimacy that you both continue to explore.

“Okay,” you respond, taking his hand and kissing it. “Okay.”

You eat lunch, explore the east wing of the property, and at mid-afternoon, you convince him to swim on the lake with you.

“Isn’t it freezing?” He asks worriedly.

“That’s the fun part of it,” you insist. “There’s a hot tub we can stay at after.”

Namjoon gives in. It’s easy to, with a smile like yours that makes his heart race every time. Especially when you come out in your blue swimsuit, shaping your curves and all other parts of your body that makes his own react. He can’t help but marvel at you, even as you tease.

“Hey, big guy, eyes up,” you smirk.

He blushes when you giggle, but he does tease back, removing his shirt to reveal his body that he’s been working so hard on. He does flex a little to give you a taste of your own medicine, and it works.

“Hey, eyes up,” he chuckles.

You feel a shiver when his finger tilts your chin up, and you do the childish thing and bite it before you run to the lake and dive in. Namjoon follows, canonballing and then swimming over to chase you.

You haven’t swam here in years. You merely used to watch the sun rise and then gaze at the sky and imagined doing all this with someone else. You didn’t really think you’d end up here with Kim Namjoon, but here you are.

Namjoon pulls you to him as you swim close, and you both float in the water with your arms around his chest and his arms around your waist. You’re obviously both drenched, and that just leaves so little to the imagination, especially with the cold water a little more overwhelming than you expected.

His hair is swept back, with beads of water lining his face and sliding down his neck and his chest. He’s broad and incredibly built. It’s unfair that his body looks as amazing as his face.

“Does Minji know you’re here with me?” He asks.

“Yes, teased me nonstop until I picked you up. What about the guys?”

“They do. They insist we are a couple.”

“And?”

“And I said that we aren’t,” he says cautiously. “We’re friends who spend a lot of time together and cuddle, and uh, sometimes do a little more.”

“What a complicated way to say we’re friends with benefits,” you laugh.

“I don’t see it that way, though,” he furrows his brows. “I don’t want to reduce what we are to each other to just benefits or something sexual or shallow. Do you see it that way?”

“No,” you say. “I… I’ve come to understand art a lot more because of you. I’ve come to appreciate what I do. That’s not just some benefit.”

“And I… can’t even explain all that you do for me,” he says. “We’re more than that. Less than lovers, but more than friends. And our moments shape this, whatever name we call it.”

“Untitled,” you wonder out loud. “Sometimes artists name their pieces as such when they can’t find a better descriptor.”

“So 58 sculptures in, and you still can’t find a better descriptor?” He teases.

“Shut up,” you smack his hard chest. “I titled them that way because I didn’t have a meaning for them. I just created them. But then I met this man, tall and built with a sexy brain, and he made me realize that the meaning is in the creation, too. So 58 works, 58 times I experienced intimacy, the only times I do.”

“Ah, so what about us?” He nudges you with his nose. “Aren’t we intimate?”

“It’s a different kind, I guess,” you say. You’re not my creation and you’re not mine, you choose not to say. “You don’t break. You’re the one that breaks other things.”

You pass it off as a joke, and he buys it. You don’t want to think much about what you and Namjoon aren’t; you just want to think about what you both are - something that may or may not be fleeting, but something beautiful nonetheless.

The sun shines a little too bright, and you take the chance to get out of the water and into the dock to soak up its heat. Namjoon follows and you both lay that way, just next to each other, catching your breaths.

“Are you feeling a little better?” You ask, wondering if he still carried over all his concerns here.

“Yes. It’s exhilarating,” he responds. “It’s nice to feel this way for a change.”

“I’m sure you’ve felt this way before, too.”

“Not this way,” he turns to you. “It’s different, I guess. It makes me think of all the other emotions I have yet to feel, the ones I’ve felt only briefly before, and the ones that I’ll never feel. I think life’s too short for a person to experience all kinds of emotions. I was it wasn’t.”

“Are humans built for that?” You question. “To feel every possible thing out there? To feel every variation of pain and sadness and joy and elation and pleasure and desire?”

Namjoon thinks. Surely, being able to have emotions and to truly feel is what makes us humans and what makes us different from animals. It’s what marks our humanity, regardless of what emotion that may be. But are humans really capable of feeling everything without breaking? Without it being too much?

“Maybe not,” he finally responds.

You think, too. You’ve often wondered why you were so scared to be vulnerable, to take risks, to love. You thought once that feeling things is overwhelming - what do you do with them? How do you handle them when they get too much? When you become too happy or too sad or too scared or too excited?

You think maybe because like all things in this world, you can never have emotions. You feel them, but you can’t own them, they can’t be yours. Like your art. You can create them but they stop being yours once you share them. Like music, as Namjoon has told you, it stops being his the moment he releases it for others to consume. And it’s scary to not have that permanence; it’s scary to not have that assurance that you’ll always have that joy or that excitement or that elation. And in some way, it’s also scary to know that you won’t always have that pain or that sadness.

“Maybe humans are only built to try to feel everything,” Namjoon states, having thought about your question and his years-long quest of figuring himself out. “But we aren’t meant to achieve it. Maybe our life is about just feeling bits and pieces of it, sometimes longer than others, but we can’t feel it all, and definitely not all at once. It’s like truth; we spend our life seeking and trying to live it, but we might never be able to. Still, we have to keep trying.”

“Hmm,” is all you manage to say. “Do couples have deep conversations like this?” You laugh this time, needing his thoughts to linger a little longer.

“They should,” he laughs. “But it’s enough for me that I have someone like you to make me question things. It reminds me that I have more to discover, to feel.”

To feel.

Sometimes Namjoon makes it seem so easy to just do that. He’s able to name what he feels, unlike you. You wish it was easy, like saying that the cold water on your skin is refreshing, like the sun’s heat is comforting, like the clouds in the sky are soft.

You don’t notice your hand reaching up, wanting to just touch them because you want something concrete, something more real than what your imagination says that clouds feel like. But instead, you feel rough, warm fingers interlocking with yours.

“If you want to feel something concrete, I’m here, you know?” Namjoon says, thumbing your hand to let him know he’s right next to you. Somehow he just knew what you were doing, what you were wishing for.

“But this is what couples do,” you tease, yet tightening your hold nonetheless.

“Friends hold hands,” he smirks.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. They kiss, too,” he hums, lifting himself up only to hover over you, catching you by surprise, but your desire trumps that, as the view of him - damp and natural-looking - makes your insides twist in circles.

“Hmm, like this?” You peck his lips, then his nose, teasing him.

“Sometimes. Other times it’s deeper. You know, like this.”

He dives in, and you welcome him immediately, your mouth already slightly open for your tongue to entangle with his. It’s long and deep, as how your kisses always are, and you feel him shift above you, fixing his position with his arms caging your head for support. He angles his mouth so he can have more of you and control how far he goes, how hard, and how fast.

Your fingers, whose spaces were filled by his just minutes ago, ghost over his neck. They trail down to his chest, gingerly passing by his pecs and his abs, the tips now resting on his hips.

“Fuck,” he moans in your mouth, and you immediately know why he does, feeling his length getting harder by the second.

It prompts him to grind on you, and you meet him halfway.

“Fuck, Joon,” you whine once his lips detach from yours, only to meet your neck when he sucks then licks over the sting. “Fuck.”

He hums in satisfaction at the sounds you make, going south now as he teases by giving tender kisses on the exposed part of your breasts before biting your nipple over your suit.The obscene sound you make turns him on, especially when you pull his hips harder against yours.

“Oh fuck, baby, yeah,” he groans in your ear now, and you might as well have just come from the way he said those words.

And then you remember where you are - in the outdoors, in your parents’ summer home. Private as it may be, you’re still exposed, and you remind him of the fact before he slows down and agrees that you can’t be doing this out here.

“I’m sorry I got carried away,” he says shyly now, as if he didn’t just devour you with his skillful mouth.

“Yeah, this is totally your fault,” you tease.

He chases you back to the house where you both spend another hour in the hot tub, just talking like normal friends, as if you didn’t almost just cross a line. But it’s like that with Namjoon, you’ve come to realize. Everything is easy, everything is natural, like you can just forget that he isn’t him and you aren’t you.

You spend the rest of the day looking at all the pieces on the first floor, with you sharing as much about them that you can remember. You both sleep that night with his head on your chest and his arms around you.

He sleeps soundly, snoring even. And as you comb his hair, you think of how close you were to wanting so much more in the lake earlier. You think of how much you wanted his lips on your mouth, all over your body, and you wanted it everyday. With the way he held you close and breathed desperately on your skin, you had a feeling that so did he.

Living in this dream-like state with him feels surreal, several months in. Because that’s what he is - a dream. Here’s a man grounded by his principles despite the fame that seems to shackle him, yet constantly propels him to new heights; a man whose search for truth and humanity shows you that he just wants to be a good person, and a person who does good.

Beyond his unmatched talent and gift with words, beyond his strikingly stunning looks, is a man who cares deeply, who feels deeply, who submits himself to what he commits to, whether it’s his music, his brothers, his plants, or his interest in art and nature and even whiskey. You have a feeling he’d do the same to whoever he plans to be with. You don’t know if it’s you, and the more you find yourself wanting him, the more you wish it isn’t you.

Namjoon is a dream, and you know at one point, you’re going to have to wake up.

The gallery is buzzing, as it always is when there’s a new exhibition. You’re excited for this, too, as the featured artist is one you admire.

Namjoon admires her as well, which is why he’s here, dressed in a black long-sleeved buttoned top, looking immaculate as per usual. He has a busy schedule but he made time, knowing how special this event is.

The room holds its breath when he enters; as a well-known lover of art, everyone has come to expect him to be a guest in exhibitions and various art shows. He bows at the other patrons and artists present, and they fawn over him, being the famous man that he is.

You don’t think you’ll ever get used to this side of him. You’re used to him rambling, making jokes he doesn’t realize are funny, and being lost in his own thoughts. You’re used to him in his natural environment - in his home full of books and paintings, and in his studio, which you’ve seen dozens of times through your phone screen. He fits right in here, though - he can easily follow on with the conversations, whether it’s about business or culture or literature. He can charm anyone with his smile and his good looks, and too many times, guests awe at his presence, finding out that he’s much more commanding and handsome off the screen.

You hide a smile as he glances in your direction. You’ve agreed not to talk much today; there are too many people around and any kind of interaction might be grounds for rumors that neither of you are ready to face, at least that’s what you think. You and Namjoon don’t really discuss those things. You always see him in your periphery, though, and perhaps just like you, he just wants to be where you are, even if no pleasantries or conversations are shared.

But Mr. Hong pulls him aside to introduce to Ms. Suh, and you can see from afar how Namjoon is fanboying over the artist whose work he’s very interested in.

It’s nice to see him in his element like this, too. Here, though still a celebrity in the eyes of everyone else, he’s a spectator. He’s told you several times how his trips to these places have made him think about the kind of legacy he wants to leave with his music, with his poetry. And how pieces in museums and galleries are timeless, permanent; they live on regardless, and each person is free to make their own meanings. You know he wanted to comfort you then.

You become involved in your own conversations until someone barrels inside the gallery and makes a scene, of all days. The slightly inebriated man is familiar; perhaps a patron you’ve seen before, but he comes in and starts yelling at the staff, going on about something you can’t understand.

Not wanting to be part of the scene and be involved in something you don’t know how to handle, you slowly step away, that is, until you see him storm towards the room where your art pieces are. He seems to be targeting someone as he looks around, but the security gets to him first and he flails his arms around, eventually knocking over Untitled 56, and the cracking sound rings in the entire building.

“You knocked over a precious piece, you bastard!” You hear Mr. Hong yelling.

You start walking slowly to where you see the shards of ceramic have fallen on the floor, and you’re unsure what you feel. Is it loss? It doesn’t seem like it. Is it anger? Perhaps not.

“It’s just some useless flower anyway,” the raucous man answers.

Shame. You think that’s it, maybe that’s the feeling. Insecurity, sadness. It’s all of that yet nothing at all.

You stand there over your broken piece, the one you created while the rain was pouring and you’d just finished a bottle of wine by yourself because you could. Everyone seems to be as shocked as you, especially with the man finally contained and led out the building. You look up to take your eyes away from the scene, but you see Namjoon’s instead - anger filling his, sympathy, care, all at once.

You shake your head once, instructing him not to say or do anything. And he follows, loosening his clenched fist and stepping away to the back of the crowd. You instruct the staff to sweep the broken piece away, not wanting to see how fragile and temporary your creation is. All that had been reduced to shards and pitiful looks of the crowd.

You don’t really want to be here.

You’re filled with emotions you can’t name. You’re afraid to feel them all, so you cower on your couch and cry to yourself.

It’s just a piece of useless flower. It’s the 56th of untitled works that you couldn’t name yourself because you didn’t know what they meant, what they symbolized, yet it hurts you this much that it’s gone. Hurt. Is that it? You’re still not sure.

The banging of your front door startles you. It’s 9PM and it’s been 4 hours since the incident. Minji offered to tell you the whole story but you didn’t really mind. You wonder if it’s her this time, wanting to know how you’re doing.

But it’s Namjoon, panting on your doorway when you open it. And the first thing you think to do is bury yourself in his arms.

It’s immediate, the catharsis of being in his hold. It’s like you’re enveloped in a warm, protective blanket that you don’t want to get out of. He embraces you tightly, letting you cry on his chest as you try to make sense of what you’re feeling.

“I’ve got you,” he says in your ear so that the words don’t get lost in the sound of your sobs. “I’ve got you. Don’t tear yourself. I’m here with you.”

You don’t know for how long you both stand there, but it’s long enough for the tears to stop falling. When you’ve calmed down, Namjoon tilts your chin up to face him.

“Hey,” he greets with a soft smile. “I’m sorry I couldn’t follow you right away. I wanted so badly to punch that man.”

The shift of emotions is immediate, as you see his furrowed brows.

“He didn’t have a right to be there and to ruin what you worked hard for. I asked Mr. Hong to look into him and I’m so sorry, ___. That piece… that piece is–”

“A useless flower,” you shake your head.

“Please don’t listen to him. Listen to me,” Namjoon insists. “You know what I feel about it. That piece led me to you.”

“And now it’s gone.”

The thought hits you hard. That piece led you to each other, and temporary as it is, it’s now broken. Maybe art isn’t timeless, you think. It can burn, it can break, just like all things. Just like emotions. Just like what you and Namjoon have.

“It may be but look what it did for us,” he challenges your thoughts. “A broken piece won’t change us, it won’t erase us.”

Tonight, this is what you want to hear. And with his fingers tracing your cheek, you think that tonight, he is what you want to feel.

You pull him close and crash your mouth onto his. It’s fervent, desperate, wanting. There’s this need in you, this animalistic desire that has you wanting him to prove you wrong again - that some things can be touched and felt and that they’ll stay and won't break, that emotions can be just as real and tangible, that they matter and that it’s worth it. You want him to prove it to you with his mouth, his words, his touch, his body.

He answers back, inhaling you completely, his tongue working on yours right away, doing that dance you’ve both memorized by now. Your moans are loud and needy. You want all of him, all over you, and with the way he groans your name and curses as you grind against him, you think he feels the same.

You’re in a haze, falling into hypnosis as you feel his hands all over you. You guide them to your clothed breasts, down your waist where he sneaks underneath. His touch burns so deliciously, and it’s what prompts you to unbutton his clothes, to feel him bare and naked, his skin against yours - raw, vulnerable, honest.

Things you don’t know how to be.

You pull away, feeling as if you’ve been snapped out of the spell.

And then you’re crying, as you look at Namjoon with his top undone, looking at you curiously before he’s walking towards you in concern.

“No,” you almost scream. “I’m sorry, I– I didn’t mean to. I wasn’t supposed to. We’re not supposed to do this. We’re just… we’re just something that’s temporary and–”

“No,” he replies, surprising you. “Don’t be sorry, please. I wanted it, I still do. I want you. Fuck what we said about being just friends. I want more. I–”

“You don’t mean that,” you insist, not wanting to hear his words.

It should comfort you, shouldn’t it? You’ve known long ago that you’ve fallen for him, but you made yourself believe that all things are temporary, and this one time you wanted something permanent with him, you got scared out of your mind.

“I do,” he counters. “Fuck it, all I wanted to do earlier was hold you in my arms. Fuck the other people around who’d see. I just wanted to be with you. Is that what friends do? Is that what they feel? I have to be honest, right? We said we’d be that to each other. I want you, ___. I want to be with you.”

“I can’t, Joon. I can’t,” you sob.

“Be honest with me this once. Do you want me?”

“Yes, so fucking much.”

“Then why can’t you be with me? Why are you making it so hard for yourself, for us?” He yells.

“I–” you start, but you don’t know how to continue. You cover your face with your hands and fall onto the floor.

You don’t think you’ve ever cried this hard, and you’re unsure exactly what you’re crying over.

“Hey,” Namjoon softens, leaning down next to you as he tries to free your face. “I’m not mad, I’m sorry.”

“No, I’m sorry. I can’t even… I can’t even say what I want to say because I don’t know. I don’t–” you sniff. “I don’t know what I feel, what I want. I–”

“It’s okay,” he says, taking you in his arms again. “It’s okay. We can talk about it tomorrow. Just get some rest.”

He calms you down again and leads you to your room. He waits as you wash up and then he tucks you in bed.

“I’ll come over in the morning, okay?”

“Okay,” you whisper. You watch him eye your lips, and then he looks away.

Namjoon comes over the next day with a basket of pastries and coffee. He knows enough that you won’t have energy to prepare anything to eat.

You can’t imagine losing all this, but that’s what’s about to happen.

You’d been so close to giving in to him, so close to letting yourself be vulnerable to him, but doing so in flesh isn’t all there is to it. You can make love to him, bare your body to him that way but you wouldn’t be able to do it with your soul or your heart.

What does being raw and honest mean? You don’t know. He deserves someone who knows.

“I still don’t know what I can give you,” you tell him as you both sit across from each other in the seating area in your garden. “Months later, I should know but I don’t. Even just moments, I… can’t. They make me want you more and I can’t. I don’t know exactly what I want - with myself, with my art, with you. I don’t know what to give.”

“You act like you’re the only one unsure,” he says softly. “I don’t know if what I can give you is enough. I mean, with what I do? It’s tough, and I don’t know if it would be fair. But I want you. I don’t know how the arrangements would be but I want you.”

“At least you know what you can give, even as you shine as bright as you do, you know yourself and what you can give me, what you can give us. I don’t.”

“But what if we try?”

“That’s unfair to you, Joon,” you insist. “You put your all into everything, and this - us - won’t be any different. But that just means that falling short would break you, and I can’t have that. And then there’s me who can’t give much of herself to anything - not my craft, not my friends, not myself. And you matter too much to only get the barest parts of me. I don’t want to be with you that way.”

Namjoon sighs. It’s not an easy thing to accept. It’s something he understands - all he’s ever known to do was to give his all to everything he wants to keep. If that’s not something you’re ready to do yourself, he can’t fault you for it.

It hurts so fucking much, though. He’s learned in the course of these months of knowing you that you’re another one of those he wants to keep, that he wants more of, that he wants to learn inside and out - you’re also the first person to ever be that for him. For you to slip away like this is a kind of pain that he doesn’t know how to get over.

“Continue to be raw and honest in everything that you do, okay? Live,” you say, and he nods in reply. “Don’t stop yourself from seeing other people, from finding someone else,” you add.

You can’t even be honest with this. You hope he’ll always want you, but you don’t let yourself be selfish with him, not this time.

“I won't” is what he answers.

It breaks your heart all over again and you let it. You deserve it. Who walks away from someone they want, especially when they want you back? Someone afraid like you, someone who doesn’t trust herself enough like you, someone who wants permanence so bad that she lets slip away the one person who’s made her feel it.

You give a half smile and he smiles back.

Namjoon gets up from his seat. “I’ll see you around, okay?”

“Okay.”

It’s a month later when one of the museums you frequent launches a new installation. A tall man catches your attention. He looks at you and smiles, his hazelnut eyes gazing at you the way they used to.

He nods in acknowledgement and so do you.

And that’s the last time you see him in a long time.

2022, winter

You stare at the package in your hands - white, with words of comfort. He’s finally completed it, you think. A piece of himself he’s been working the last 4 years on, and it looks just like how he described it to you all those months ago.

You don’t know if you’ll listen to it. You haven’t heard his voice in so long. You’re afraid you’ll break if you do.

Perhaps just one time, to get it off your system. That might be enough.

You open it, unsure when you’ll unpack this obviously beautifully curated work of art. But the note at the top leaves you no room to ignore it.

Nothing’s changed for me. Let’s find ourselves. And then let’s find each other. I’ll just be here. But please, stay where you are.

Namjoon

You let one tear fall and then leave the package on the top shelf of your closet.

Your bedroom door opens.

“Are you all packed?” Minji asks.

“Yes, I’m all good,” you smile.

She helps you with your luggage, down the stairs and into the van waiting for you.

“That’s a lot of stuff,” she hums, holding back her tears. “How long will you be away for?”

“Until I find myself.”

“That might be a long time.”

“It will.”

2025, winter

Namjoon has been to several galleries in New York, but this particular one is a place he’s never been to. It overlooks Central Park, towering at the 30th floor like the other buildings in the city. But it’s 3 floors and he thinks it’s stunning. It’s not overly grand, but it’s also not as simple and natural like the others he’s been to.

He may say it’s not entirely his vibe, but there’s a reason why he’s here.

Some patrons recognize him and greet him. He bows in response, engaging in small talk when he needs to, but stepping away to get to the exhibition he flew here to see.

It’s nothing like what he expected, although years later, he doesn’t know what to expect anymore.

The first thing is, well, it’s titled. There’s a year and a description, too.

2023, swing in the summer home

The piece is beautiful, made in clay and metal. It’s familiar, too. He’s seen this on a lake house by the mountains, over 3 years ago.

2023, the piece that lost its meaning

It’s a painting, but one placed atop a sculpted frame hanging on a wall in what seems like a living room. This scene feels familiar as well.

2024, lost youth

A group of children look up at a plane, with opened suitcases and toys on the floor. The nostalgia hits him.

The rest of the sculptures are new to him. There’s one about a lady in red, one of a neighbor, one of a woman with an umbrella and clouds, aptly titled, what am i hiding from? Further down the room, the emotions become more pointed, straightforward, and a lot more focused.

2023, coward

2024, i truly was sorry

2025, is this what regret feels like?

2025, i hope you knew i lied

2025, maybe someday

Someone from the outside who knows nothing about the artist might think that the pieces are a little over the place, although one can tell from the titles that they tell a story. The sculptures are made from the same materials - clay and metal, all free standing and in similar sizes. Each caption holds a narration, and all Namjoon can read are words describing emotions, of states of being - innocence, anger, confusion, fear, loss, regret, loneliness, pain, hope, and few more.

There’s not much about joy or intimacy, though, and the thought saddens him. He had hoped that by this time, you already knew how those felt.

“So, what do you think?”

Namjoon didn’t think he’d ever hear that voice again. He’d cry if he could, especially as he turns to his side and finds you, dressed in a classy, aegean blue satin dress. Your smile is one he’s missed so much, and he wishes he could frame this moment, just so he doesn’t forget. He almost did, and he hated himself when he took so long to remember how you sounded like, how you looked like.

“Nothing like I imagined,” Namjoon replies. “In a good way.”

“I scrapped previous works and experimented with these ones. It took me years to complete,” you explain. “I almost stopped at one point, wondering if anybody would ever get it but then I figured, it didn’t matter. It’s a good thing that lifestyle magazine reached out for a feature. I think that was Mr. Hong pulling some strings. At least I got to say that for years, I didn’t know what I was doing, who I was, but now I do.”

“That’s how I knew about it, actually,” Namjoon hums. “It was in the art gallery because he was giving it away for free. It said your exhibition was here, so I flew in.”

“Oh,” you say, surprised. “I thought you had a show or filming.”

“Nah,” Namjoon sighs. “I came here for you. Otherwise I wouldn’t know where to find you, or how else to see you. You stopped… you stopped showing up. You just disappeared.”

“I know. And I’m sorry.”

It’s all you can say, really. You didn’t expect to see him here, but when you saw a familiar face enter through the doors, your heart stopped. You had a feeling Mr. Hong had told Namjoon about your exhibition - your first in 4 years. But nothing would have prepared you for this - seeing him again after you walked away from the one good thing you found in your life. You watched him from afar as he went through each of your pieces, perhaps savoring them, remembering them.

“Have you been well?” He asks, the concern still overpowering everything.

“I have.”

“You seem to have lost someone,” he says, nodding towards one of the pieces. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“She was my neighbor when I spent 8 months in Sweden,” you share. “She took care of me but then she passed away due to an accident. It was hard for a while.”

“I–” Namjoon reaches out his hand - for comfort, perhaps - but he brings it down. “I wish I knew.”

“It’s okay. And I’m okay. It’s been a year, but I wouldn’t have finished all this without her.”

You’d forgotten how silence sounded like with Namjoon, and you want to remember what it was like. You remember a lot of things, actually, like his laughter, his voice, his smile, the feel of his lips on yours, and many others.

“How long are you here for?” You finally ask, as you both walk side-by-side past the rest of the artworks inside, with a bit of distance between you.

“I’m here for 3 more days.”

“I stay at the hotel next to the building,” you say, being bold. “I leave here in 2 hours.”

You fumble for your room key and discreetly hand it over to him. “3802, if you want to. I have more to say, and I– uh, shit. If you’re seeing someone, forget what I said.”

“I’m not,” he answers. “I’ll be there.”

Namjoon watches the city from your full-wall window, wondering when you’d decide to finally speak beyond a greeting. It’s been 10 minutes since he arrived at your suite with the key you gave him, and you haven’t said anything since then.

“The buildings aren’t the same here,” you finally say. “I’ve been here for 3 months and the sounds of the cars are too loud, there’s too much smoke, people don’t smile… I don’t have anyone here.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I decided to finish some of my pieces in the city. I’ve been staying at one of my parents’ apartments not far from here.”

“And where were you before that?”

“Puerto Rico, Greece, Sweden,” you answer.

“When I said to find ourselves, I didn’t think you’d actually leave, and then not tell me about it,” he laments. “I knew it was stupid to wish you’d stay close. You weren’t in any of the places where I used to see you, where we used to go. I… I asked around but they said you haven’t visited in so long.”

“I couldn’t stay,” you try to explain. “I couldn’t because it just meant waiting for you to come even if I was the one who walked away. And I knew I wouldn’t be able to find myself in a place where I’d always be looking for you, and so I had to go. I’m so sorry, Joon. I–”

You drop the hand that reaches out to him, unsure if your touch would still be welcome. You clench your fist to stop yourself from doing it again, but he notices. He notices and takes your hand, uncurls it so he can hold it properly.

“How was it being away?”

“It was good. Hard. Terrifying,” you share. “I experienced a lot of new, fun things. I learned a lot. Made a lot of mistakes, too. I met so many people. I–”

“Were you with anyone?” he asks, turning away briefly.

“No, I… I couldn’t bring myself to,” you answer nervously. “And you?”

“No one since you. There was a reason why I asked you to stay right there, so that I knew where to find you.”

“You still found me, 3 years later, on the other side of the world.”

“I had to know if anything’s changed for you. I had to know if you made it, if you found what you were looking for. I had to know if you were happy. But you didn’t create it. There was no piece for it.”

“I found what I was looking for,” you say, looking into his eyes, glancing at his fingers that are softly exploring yours. “I realized that I could only gain whatever permanence I was looking for if I learned to let them go. Because if they come back, they stay. I walked away from you then, and I had to lose myself to all the emotions that I was so scared to feel. And I felt a lot of them, Joon. I felt a lot of things. I was going to go back home after this. But you came to me first. You’re the one always finding me. That hasn’t changed.”

“I suppose it hasn’t,” he cracks a smile. “Did I take too long?”

“You were right on time,” you say. “I would’ve come for you in a few days though. But I’m glad you’re here so that I can tell you that I can finally have this. I can finally give you everything without being scared, without it breaking me, without it ruining the ones I love.”

“Is that what you feel for me?”

“Yes. I guess I did then. I still do now.”’

There’s uncertainty in your voice, perhaps due to the fear of him no longer returning what you feel.

“I found myself, too,” he says. “I figured out what I wanted to do for myself, what more I can give, what more I desired. And I guess you’re right. That permanence can come from losing something and then having them back. And then having them stay. So many times then I regretted that I wasn’t more honest. That I was denying what I felt for you because I was scared of losing what little of a normal life I was afforded. I wished I told you much earlier, but I guess things happen when they do, right?”

“Right, but you can also say them again now.”

“That I want you close, holding my hand, tracing my skin, kissing me? That I want all that everyday?” He smiles, as he pulls you towards him and places your hand on his chest. “That I want everything from you? That I haven’t stopped thinking of you, wishing for you?”

“Yes,” you say, sighing into the kiss you’ve missed too much.

There’s that tenderness you expected, but the desire is unlike the times before. There’s more confidence now, more security in the way his mouth moves against yours. It’s as if he knows that he’ll always have this. That this time, he’s loving you in more than words, and that you’ve come back, and that you’ll stay.

Namjoon presses you against the wall, lets his lips trace down your neck and your chest. He undresses you, remarks that he’s starting to believe in a higher being who created a body like yours, and then proceeds to mouth more praises down your thighs and in between them.

He takes you slowly, amorously. He watches your face contort in pure pleasure, and you mention needing to add a piece for this, too. The way he goes in and out of you is out of this world, and you never want it to end.

You’d think it’s the intimacy you didn’t know how to feel. But it’s more than that. In fact, you find that in being with Namjoon, the intimacy is in everything - the way he holds your hand, the way he wraps his arm around you, the way he lets you bite his arm and tickle him just for fun. It’s in the way he kisses your forehead before he kisses your lips.

It’s in your bike rides together and watching the river whenever you catch a glimpse of it. It’s in your moments of calm - reading books, writing songs, sketching.

It’s in the deep, tender way that he says he loves you.

You don’t have a piece for this yet. Perhaps it’s another series altogether. Perhaps it’ll require an installation.

Or maybe, this is the one emotion you don’t need to put into art, the one that you’ll keep for yourself to hold onto because no clay and metal mixture, no tangible piece, could ever describe what this love and intimacy feels like.

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