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#rm x you
m-yg93 · 10 months
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Solace
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Pairing: KNJ x Reader
WC: 13.5k
Genre: Roommates2L
Rating: M (minors dni)
Warnings: Brief blood mention from a cut, mention of minor character death (sickness), fingering, hand job, big dick joon, belly bulge, unprotected sex, mentions of choking, creampie, dirty talk, inconsistent POV
Banner by @sugarwithtea​
Beta’d by @yoongiobsessed​ and Sara (twitter link)
Summary: Namjoon thought getting used to a new roommate would take time and adaptation but you fit yourself into his apartment with ease. He swears he only landed in your bed to keep you safe in his arms when you get spooked by the storm. Surely he can blame the eventual lack of clothing on the summer’s heat stroke.
Author’s Note: This should have been written months ago. I don’t have an excuse. Oh well, it’s here now! 
Part of the Room For Rent collab
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There needs to be a word that describes the feeling of being happy for someone while simultaneously going through betrayal.
Namjoon is happy for Yoongi, of course he is, but watching him from across their kitchen table is sending an uncomfortable wave through him. He didn’t expect his oldest and closest friend to run from him, leave him in the dust, just straight up abandon him.
“Oh my God, you’re being dramatic. I’m not abandoning you, I’m moving to Gangnam. It’s just across the river! You and your freakishly thick thighs can bike to my new place in 20 minutes.”
Okay so perhaps he’s being a little dramatic but what else was he supposed to think? He and Yoongi had shared this apartment for years. There had been countless sleepless nights fueled by too much ramen, the living room littered with energy drinks as they bumped heads and helped each other brainstorm ideas for new beats. These walls hold melodies and memories, and he’s just expected to share them with someone else now?
“Plus, I told you you’re welcome to move in with Jin and I. His dad’s some CEO and the apartment is ridiculously lavish. There’s a room with your name on the door if you want it. I’m serious, Jin has this thing with plaques and has a name for every room, it’s honestly worrying. I won’t even tell you what he decided to name the master bedroom.”
Namjoon purses his lips at the thought. That was the main reason behind turning Yoongi’s offer down. He likes Jin and genuinely loves that he brings so much light into Yoongi’s naturally dreary life. Seeing Yoongi’s lips fight against a smile only to burst into the cheesiest, gummy grin while audibly groaning about his boyfriend’s terrible jokes brings a warmth to Namjoon’s chest every time. Yoongi deserves to be happy and he knows Jin is the best person for the job. But he knows full well the couple will christen every room of that apartment and he wants no part of it.
“I know,” he agrees, “But with the proximity to Yongsan park? I don’t know if I’ll ever leave this place.” The open fields just outside the doors of their apartment are the first solace he reaches for when the instrumentals in his brain just keep fighting each other, transforming into the screeching noise of the streets under his window. The trees don’t talk back but letting out his frustrations under the canopy of leaves feels like it helps anyway. “I guess I’ll have to try to pick up some extra freelance contracts to make up for having to pay the rent alone. I hate having to produce meaningless pop but it brings in decent cash when I’m in a tight spot,” he laments.
“Dude, I’m not heartless. I didn’t just decide to move out and leave you stranded. I have a friend from high school. I don’t see her often but she’s a good time and she’s looking to move out of her parents’ place now that she’s done with her degree. It’ll be easier to find work in the city. I’ve mentioned her. Y/N? I go out to dinner with her every couple months to make sure we keep in touch. She’s pretty shy and she’s quiet, you’ll barely notice she’s here.”
There’s a wave of relief that comes with knowing he won’t have to pinch pennies but it quickly turns frigid at the realization that he’ll have to live with a stranger. What if she was a morning person? What if she was a smoker and made the whole apartment fill with the lingering acrid smell? What if she killed his plants?
“I can see your brain working overtime. Breathe, I wouldn’t offer the place to someone I know doesn’t fit your vibe,” Yoongi reassures. I guess there’s not much else to do but wait and see how compatible your living situations are.
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Thankfully their own music equipment had been bought separately because they’ve been bickering all day when Yoongi tries to put something in a box from their shared spaces only to have Namjoon object.
“What are you going to do with a wok, Joon? YOU DON’T COOK!”
“Jin has a plethora of different ones in his kitchen and we both know it! Maybe your friend likes to cook, huh? Maybe she’ll want the wok to make meals.”
“Make you meals, you mean?” Okay so maybe he was hoping the new roommate situation came with food because losing both Yoongi and Jin’s cooking overnight was going to hit him hard. He’ll wither away into a string bean at this rate seeing as he’s not allowed near the knives nor the stove.
Yoongi must take pity in the pleading look in his eyes because he puts down the wok with a sigh and passes to the next cupboard. Namjoon is distracted by Jin’s entrance, always loud and boisterous.
“Hey! How is packing going? I just parked the moving van downstairs but I don’t know how long I’m allowed to be there.”
“It’s fine,” Yoongi shouts from across the apartment. “I’d be done already if Joon didn’t try to steal all my shit and force me to leave them here.” He’s zooming past him, bony shoulder purposefully digging into Joon’s bicep.
“I’m monitoring the fair share of roommate assets,” he huffs. “Jin’s apartment has more shit in it than he already needs. You’re leaving me alone with only memories that you once cared for me. The least you could do is not leave with half of what’s in this measly dwelling when your sugar daddy’s got you up in a penthouse.”
They both know the jabs are jokes. Jin has more money than anyone needs, but he’s also a hard worker and spent his youth learning how to take over the business from his father when the time comes. He’d swept Yoongi off his feet with expensive dinners and outrageous gifts when they were first dating, only knowing how to flaunt his money for attention before Yoongi set him straight and taught him that he’d have to put more thought into his courting if he expected him to stick around. Clearly, he did.
Reminiscing about his, nearly ex, roommate almost distracts him enough to miss Yoongi trying to sneak a thin square package into his last remaining box.
“You’re going to take that vinyl out of here over my dead body, Yoongi!” The apartment echoes the lament in surround sound.
They do eventually make it to the van parked downstairs after Yoongi finishes taping up his boxes with only a limited amount of protest from Namjoon.. The air is humid, clothes sticking to Namjoon’s skin as he chases after the wind from Yoongi’s open window like a dog on his first car ride. Jin’s apartment building is a stark opposite from their, his, own. Whereas the outside of his building is all grey concrete walls, Jin’s is all sleek glass of floor-to-ceiling windows causing the brightness of the sun to reflect off and into Namjoon’s eyes as he looks up to the top where his friend will now be living.
The air conditioning of the lobby hits full force, the trio letting out a pleasant hum which quickly turns into a deep groan when they see the elevator boasting an out of order sign. Two pairs of sharp eyes round on Jin, malice dripping from furrowed brows.
“I swear it was working when I left this morning. They must be using all the power to keep each unit’s AC going through the heat wave. The stairs are this way.” He points to a corner of the lobby, tight corridor leading to a single door.
“The stairs? You live in the penthouse, that’s FIFTEEN flights, babe.” Yoongi is quick to point out.
“Are you trusting enough to keep all your music equipment in the van for who knows how long this heat is going to last? I know you’re going to complain about all the moisture in the air messing with your delicate settings.” Namjoon knows he’s got him there. Yoongi would suffer through a natural disaster if it meant keeping his equipment safe and at peak performance.
“You’re right,” Yoongi sighs dejectedly, head thrown backwards. “But I won’t be any help bringing the gear up. You see these legs? They’ll snap like toothpicks if I try to bring them up. Guess Biceps and Shoulders need to do all the heavy lifting.” There’s an airy lilt to his voice when he figures he’s saved himself from the worst bit.
“Doubt they’ll stay that small seeing how many times you’ll be going up and down those stairs to bring up all the light boxes while we deal with the heavy stuff. You’ll have lungs of steel with all that cardio, buddy. I’m sure Jin will appreciate how long he can hold his dick in your throat without you needing to breathe after that.” Namjoon sends him a salacious wink.
Yoongi’s face, which had been a flushed shade of pink from the heat, drains immediately when he realizes the position he’s put himself in but Namjoon doesn’t let him change his mind. He just claps a hand on his shoulder and turns around to get to the van and pick up the first console they’ll need to bring up to Yoongi’s new designated studio space.
Namjoon regrets showing Friends to Jin after today. If he has to hear ‘PIVOT’ one more forsaken time he might choke that windshield wiper laugh right out his friend’s throat. His whole body is aching when he sets his ass down on Jin’s plush couch, finally tasting a bite of heaven after all those steps but it can’t be savored long.
“Get up.” Yoongi’s voice breaks through his needed rest. “The elevator mishap made us take way longer than planned and we’re already late to pick up Y/N.” If anyone sees him fighting back tears that’s none of their business.
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The drive out to the suburbs of Seoul is peaceful, the population seems to have holed up inside and away from the sun’s rays. They pull up to a nice two-story home. Namjoon can’t see much into the property since it’s surrounded by tall brick walls, but it’s unnecessary as he can see the silhouette of a young woman waiting outside the gate, piles of boxes at her feet.
They all pour out of the truck, Yoongi darts out first to meet her halfway where she throws herself in his arms. There’s a lot of squealing and Namjoon isn’t sure from who it’s coming out of in the mess of limbs. They separate and approach where he and Jin had waited by the vehicle.
“I’m Y/N, you must be Jin!” There’s a hand out ready to be shaken but it’s presented in front of the wrong man.
“Actually, Jin is this one,” Yoongi corrects, taking your wrist and moving it to the correct person.
“Oh my God, that’s embarrassing. I just figured it was the big one. I’ve heard about your muscle kink enough once you figured out you were into men that I just-- You know what? I’m going to shut up now. Hi, sorry about that. Nice to meet you.” There’s a nervous giggle in between words that’s instantly endearing.
Jin doesn’t seem offended, laughing alongside her. “No worries, he’s plenty satisfied without the beefiness of his teenage crushes.” He wiggles his eyebrows comically which has her chuckling and Yoongi whining.
“This is Namjoon, your new roommate. Joon, this is Y/N.” It’s his turn to shake hands, your fingers so thin and delicate around his much bigger grasp. He takes the time to really take you in, looking down at you; wide grin and smooth skin that spans from your neck down into your… Nope, face!
“You have a nice face.” For a lyricist he sure did have a way with words.
“Thank you?” Your eyes trail to the side where Yoongi stands, eyes deadpan and mouth shut tight.
“He grows on you, I swear. Get in the car, we’ll grab your boxes.” Yoongi says as he passes in front of you with an icy stare towards Namjoon. Okay, so he could have made a better first impression.
You don’t have many boxes which makes sense. The apartment is furnished and Yoongi had left his bedroom set for you since he wouldn’t need it at Jin’s. He remembers leaving his parent’s house with barely anything. It had taken a while for Yoongi and him to make the apartment seem like people actually lived in it. They’d spent far too long eating cup noodles while sitting on the floor in the corner of the kitchen.
Jin takes his place behind the wheel, Yoongi slipping in beside him in the passenger seat. The earlier ride in the backseat wasn’t so bad for Namjoon since he could sit crookedly to fit his long legs behind the couple’s seats in front of him but your presence beside him forces his knees to hit the back of Yoongi’s seat.
“Can you push your seat up a bit? Your little legs don’t need that much space,” Namjoon shoots ahead of him.
“And just for that comment your giant ass and long limbs can suck it up. Respect your elders, brat,” Yoongi snaps back. Maybe he deserved that one.
He sends you a sheepish look and an awkward smile as he spreads open his thighs lewdly. His knee hits yours despite you sticking your legs together demurely, hands politely sitting in your lap. The touch attracts your gaze and Namjoon can track your eyes as they drag up the bare skin of his quad, past the hem where the material of his shorts dig into his thighs, and settles just a little too long where both his legs meet. He can practically feel your stare burning a hole into his groin, a heat expanding through his body.
He doesn’t even realize when he lets out an uneasy cough and you’re quick to look away with a start when you hear it; clearly having been caught in your little perversion. The flush that builds on your cheeks is shameful enough that he doesn’t mention anything more, only locking away the memory of you blushing and embarrassed for later.
Namjoon is thankful that with four pairs of arms there won’t be a need to do multiple trips for your boxes. Jin sends you and Yoongi off with a box each but loads Namjoon’s arms with three; enough to block his view so he has to peek around them to see where he’s going. There might not be many boxes but the ones he’s been given are heavy enough to make his arms shake underneath their weight. He’s absolutely going to blame that on having had to haul all of Yoongi’s belongings during the day and definitely not on the fact he’s weak. He goes to the gym regularly!
“Thanks for helping! Just leave them by the door, I’ll take care of unloading everything,” you call from across the apartment. Yoongi must be giving you a tour of the place.
Namjoon kicks off his shoes and crashes head first into the couch, his big body halfway dropping off of it. All his muscles ache and he’s sticky with sweat. His lids close, reaching for some rest. His stomach rumbles, the memory of breakfast fading. There’s soft footsteps sneaking up on him. He’s trained himself enough to catch Yoongi coming. He’s broken enough things when his roommate suddenly appeared by his side and gave him a spook.
“Don’t think I’m an idiot, Joon. I could see the way you looked at her. I’m only going to say this once, don’t fuck my friend.” His voice is almost sinister as it whispers in his ear. Namjoon’s eyes quickly open wide. He wasn’t looking at you in any sort of way and he was about to defend himself, mouth open with a denial on his tongue. He doesn’t have the chance since you pop around the corner, seeing them both with their heads too close to each other, Yoongi’s glare facing Namjoon’s incredulous look.
“Everything good here?” you ask.
Yoongi’s expression shifts, gummy smile on full display but Namjoon still sees the daggers in his eyes. “Yep, I was just saying bye to Joon. Jin’s already back at the van and we need to get it back to the vendor. Text me if you need anything Y/N. And Joon? Remember what I said.” He and Jin take their leave, surely to start desecrating their new shared space.
“Okay? Is it just me or was he being weird?” You look back at Namjoon but there’s only a shrug of his shoulders as your reply. “Alright, well I’m going to start unpacking then.” You’re just about to turn tail when you can hear the growl coming from Namjoon again. “Ah, you must be hungry, you’ve been going around the city all day. Is there anything already in the kitchen?”
“No, we went through all of it when Yoongi and Jin decided to have a goodbye dinner this week. You get started on unpacking and I’ll run down to the store for some stuff. I think we’re both too tired to do much effort but I can grab ingredients for some decent ramen.” Namjoon slips his shoes back on and running out the door as soon as he finishes speaking.
Luckily, there’s a small family owned market just down the street from the apartment. Mrs. Park is going to be sad to hear that her ‘little dumpling’, as she called Yoongi, won’t be visiting her anymore. She’s mostly used to seeing Namjoon anyway. Yoongi may have been the one cooking but Joon was always the one sent off on errands for any ingredients that were missing midway through the meal preparation.
The bell chimes above him when he walks into the little shop. Mrs. Park doesn’t even look up from her newspaper, head staring firmly into her lap. There’s a low buzz emitting from the artificial lights mixing with the music that’s playing in the shop, something Namjoon doesn’t know, a beat that hasn’t been popular in half a century.
The aisles are familiar and he grabs the ingredients absentmindedly, throwing things in the handheld basket hooked onto the crook of his arm. Green onions from the produce section, a carton of eggs and a hunk of cheese from the dairy section, and spam from the canned goods area.
Mrs. Park finally lifts her eyes from whatever news story that had her attention and gives him a warm smile that reaches her eyes. He should give his grandma a call. A smooth wrinkled hand grabs his groceries one by one, slowly bringing them closer for inspection. Her frail finger punches into the keys of the register.
His eyes wander while his items disappear from the counter and into a bag beneath the surface. The sky has turned a slate grey from an overbearing cloud covering the sun, bringing the vibrance of outside down to a dull.
Against the window is a shelf filled with flowers. Namjoon has often seen people grabbing a bouquet as they wait for their total. He remembers a man with a tie midway undone, suit jacket flapping behind him as he rushed out frantically. A forgotten anniversary he suspected. Just last week, there was a small child tugging at his father’s sleeve, pointing at a particularly bright blossom and requesting to bring it home to his mother. The memory brings a small smile to his lips.
He doesn’t contemplate long before reaching for a lonely white rose in a near empty bucket. He remembers certain symbolism from the time he read The Language of Flowers. Purity, innocence, a new beginning, and reverence. He thinks he catches a mischievous glint in Mrs. Park’s eye as she hands him the bag of groceries in one hand while the rose remains in his other.
The universe allows him only long enough to step out of the shop before the skies open up with a loud clap and water erupts in a downpour. Shock overtakes him and he freezes on the spot as he lets the fat water droplets sink into the fabric of his clothes. The cold immediately seepsinto his skin and settles in his bones, eyes shut tight and mouth open.
The loud rumble of distant thunder urges him to start moving. The plastic of the bag is slippery in his grasp and there’s a stinging pain in his palm from where the rose’s thorns dig in. There’s an uncomfortable squeak from the leather of his sandals with every heavy step he takes. As he sprints the few blocks back to the apartment, the loud slap slap slap of his foot hitting the pavement.
The door of the apartment slams into the wall as Namjoon rushes to get inside, the doorknob undoubtedly leaving a mark from the force at which Namjoon has opened it to throw himself inside.
“Namjoon? Is everything okay?” you call from the living room. “I’m sorry for the mess, I’m trying to fit in my own books across your collection. I don’t want to mess up the system you’ve got going on.”
“Yeah, all good, just wasn’t paying attention,” he reassures.
Your head pops out from the hallway to take inventory of the situation yourself, not quite trusting the waver in his voice. “Oh god, it started raining? I was so in my bubble that I didn’t even notice. You’re soaked! Let me grab you a towel.” You’re off to the bathroom before he can even thank you, already back to exchange the flower still in his grasp for the towel you hand him.
“I hope it didn’t take a beating on my way back over here,” he says, worry tainting the edge of his voice.
“No, it’s perfect. Thank you. Do you know if you have any vases?”
“I’m sure Yoongi’s left some in the kitchen. Jin had a habit of getting him a new bouquet every month. Don’t tell Yoongi I said this but he’d blush every time despite all the grumbling he did about it. Happened every month for two years, like clockwork,” he teases.
“That sounds about right. Yoongi will never admit it but I know how much praise and appreciation means to him. I’m glad Jin gives him that. I’ll go find it.” You’re turning tail and heading into the kitchen in search of the vase.
He pats himself dry enough so that he’s no longer dripping on the floor before he follows you in. You’re in front of an open cabinet, head tilted back to look at the top shelf of it. Your hand is stretched to its capacity, boosted by the tip of your toes, one knee nearly hiking onto the countertop to give yourself enough reach.
He truly only means to help when he sneaks in behind you to grab at the vase. He doesn’t expect to catch you off guard, sending you backwards and off balance with a squeak. His grasp abandons its path towards the top shelf and instead redirects to land on your hips, pinning you against his chest.
You’re taken by surprise at the strong hands grabbing onto your side, a hard wall of muscle at your back, heat radiating from his skin, his wet clothes dampening yours.
“Are you okay?” he asks, breath just a little too close to your ear.
There’s a hitch in your voice when you reply hastily, “Mhm! All good. I’ll let you get that actually. I’m going to change. My clothes are gross from today. You should too, you’re going to catch a chill if you stay in those wet clothes. Your shirt’s so soaked I can see right through it. Not that I was looking! I’ll just- right.”
You’re running off before he can articulate a thought, the door of your room slamming shut behind you. He’s nearly certain he can hear an embarrassed groan through the wall despite that. He does get the vase down and fills it with water, dropping the rose into it before he slips into his room as well.
The rain will be good for the heat in the long run but as it stands it just permeates the apartment with heavy humidity. He grabs a pair of comfortable shorts and a tank top to change into. He passes next to your room on his way to the bathroom. He takes the time to stop and knock at your door.
“Y/N? Do you need to use the bathroom? I’m going to jump in the shower really quick.”
“Go ahead! I’ll take one after dinner.”
His clumsy fingers struggle with the lock behind him, clothes falling onto the floor. The bluetooth speaker that has a permanent residence in the bathroom is turned on, a playlist going at random. He makes sure to adjust the temperature of the water, slightly colder than he usually would. It’s absolutely to combat the heat and definitely not the memory of your body pressed against his in the kitchen; soft under his hands and plump against where his crotch pushed in under the curve of your ass.
Oh god, focus on something else. Listen to the music. The beat is uplifting and he finds himself singing along to the lyrics. A popular song from a girl group member. He recalls Yoongi mentioning he’s worked on something similar.
He lets the tepid water run down his body, hands quick and rough where he scrubs the soap into his skin, not letting them stay in one spot too long to melt into the feeling. Yep, he definitely needs to have it colder. It’s near shivering levels of frigid when he ducks his head under the stream to rinse the shampoo out of his hair.
He’s nearly forgotten about the shape of your body against him, mind preoccupied with the soprano of the singer in his ears. Pop pop, pop, you want it. His body responds as if with muscle memory from seeing this song trend with its choreo everywhere online. His hands take turns pointing at an open hand and back again, fists then popping as if miming fireworks going down a zig zag pattern.
The haunting thoughts of the kitchen eventually disperse enough for him to exit the stream of water and change into the clean, dry clothes. You’re already in the kitchen humming to yourself once he leaves the room followed by a puff of steam.
“Do you need me to help with anything?” he proposes.
“Yeah, that’d be great. Can you slice up the spam and drop the eggs into the water? There’s a pot already boiling.” Put eggs in water and cut up some meat. Sure, he can do that.
The eggs may have cracked a little when he quite literally dropped them into the pot but that’s fine. A little hard boiled never hurt anyone. He swears he’s extra careful when you hand him a knife and let him stand in front of the cutting board. Just going to very daintily hold down the spam and slowly bring the knife down-
“You’re holding it upside down. Sharp edge towards the bottom and make sure you curl your knuckles in so you don’t nick yourself.” Right, of course, he knew the knife was upside down. Just making sure you did, hah.
He manages to make some slightly uneven slices until about halfway through the block but eventually there’s just not enough space for his big sausage fingers to hold on and the knife just slips…right into his palm.
“Ah, shit!” He jumps back, letting the knife clatter to the floor. His uninjured hand keeps the pressure onto the wound as small river of red runs between his fingers. He’s taken by surprise and lets himself be manhandled to the sink before his wounded hand is pushed under the cold, running water.
“I should have figured why Yoongi was so ominously telling me where the first aid kit was in the kitchen. And why he asked how often I cooked at home.” There’s shuffling behind him and a small hand sneaking its way between his body and the sink.
“Take it out, I’ll pat it dry and put a bandage on.” He’s careful to keep his hand stable as your delicate fingers patch him up. A soft pressure with a gauze and a more instant one for the wrap that goes around his palm.
“My friend JK is going to think I took up boxing and ask me to go to the gym with him if he sees this.” He tries to laugh it off, bringing humor into his near amputation.
“I don’t think you need any incentive to go to the gym.” Your eyes are trailing up his arm, stopping at his bicep and following all the way to the middle of his chest. The flex he pushes is completely accidental and was absolutely not to show off the progress he’s been building.
“I take care of myself, I guess.”
“Right.” There’s a small laugh in your voice. “Go take care of yourself, away from the kitchen. I’ll handle the rest.”
He lets himself be shooed out of the hot space, out into the living room where he sees your earlier comment about a mess. There’s books all over the floor in little towers looking for a home on his already overly compacted bookshelf. He picks a few of his bigger tomes to rehouse to his room which allows space for yours to make themselves at home.
He doesn’t notice how long he’s been calculating which books need to be relocated until he hears the clatter of bowls hitting the coffee table behind him.
“I figured we could eat in here today, more casual and all. Thank you for helping me make sense of where to put my stuff. I didn’t want to impose.”
“This is your home too now, you deserve to have space for your things. Yoongi wasn’t much of a reader. Thank you for dinner. I’m afraid you’re going to be in charge of feeding me a lot. I can always just order in but Yoongi was always on my ass for spending money on takeout.” He has the humility to look ashamed at his incapacity to nurture himself.
“No worries, it was kind of implied when he told me to take his spot. I like cooking, so I don’t mind, really. Tell me more about yourself though, I only know what Yoongi’s told me which is pretty much only that you produce music like he does. You’ve got an eye for art from what I can see of the prints on the walls.”
“Ah, actually those are all mine,” he blushes and points to a camera that takes a place on one of the higher shelves. “I like biking around and I figured it was a shame to see all the pretty landscapes without getting to commemorate them properly so I got into photography. I’m not a professional or anything but I enjoy it. I’m actually going to Comic Con this weekend with a group of my friends. They’re cosplaying and they wanted someone around to take pictures of them in costume. JK's actually got a pretty great Spiderman thing going on and it works for him with all the, you know, muscles and spandex.” He’s gesturing a little wildly over his body, as if you’re familiar with Jungkook’s physique.
“I don’t but I can imagine.” Your eyes are following where his hands had gestured over him, gaze roaming over the muscles he’s boasting himself. “You don’t happen to have any spandex hiding in your closet yourself?”
“Nothing like him, riding shorts for when I take particularly long bike rides. I don’t tend to favor it, they really ride up.” His sentence ends in an uncomfortable chuckle and he avoids your view, completely missing how your eyes have started to glaze over.
The small talk fades after that, replaced with the sound of chopsticks hitting the edge of bowls and the occasional slurps. You hold your chopsticks loosely between bites, your phone in your spare hand just mindlessly scrolling.
There’s a familiar tune coming softly from your direction, a low hum of a melody that triggers Namjoon’s receptors. He can place it pretty quickly, pop pop pop uh uh.
His hands take on a mind of their own. He doesn’t stop chewing as his fists go through the movement. Open palm, point, switch, zigzag.
He wouldn’t have even not realized what he was doing if a little giggle hadn’t interrupted the flow of the song. He freezes, eyes widening. It’s a slow pan of his eyes to look into his peripheral, as if not moving his head would somehow render him invisible and able to melt away from the embarrassing situation he’s caught himself in.
You’re doing your best to hold it in, lips nearly completely sucked into your mouth, teeth forcing them closed. He appreciates the effort but he can admit the jig is up. He picks his chopsticks back up with a little cough, gathering his bearings.
“It’s a catchy song,” he defends.
“Oh absolutely, it gets stuck in your head so easily. Even when hearing it off key and through the rush of running water,” you tease.
He pretends to be offended by that. “I’m a producer! I’ll have you know I have great pitch.”
“Of course, someone should tell Nayeon that she’s in the wrong key then. How embarrassing for her to be performing it that way.”
You both dissolve into laughter after that. The silence that follows feels a lot lighter than it previously had been and he breathes a little easier.
“Leave your dishes in the sink, I’ll take care of it in exchange for the cooking labour. I rarely break things anymore. Even if Yoongi won’t let me forget about his favorite mug. I still insist that the shape wasn’t ergonomic and that’s why it slipped out of my hand. He was so mad he refused to drink any coffee that day and knowing Yoongi you know how that was more a punishment for me than it was for himself,” he shares the memory of how grumpy Yoongi had been that day. They must have restarted the same beat half a dozen times. Suffice to say it wasn’t a very productive day and Namjoon owed him a new mug of his choosing.
Your first night together was fruitful. You’ve managed to unpack and meld your belongings with his, have dinner - where he didn’t kill himself in the kitchen - and bond over some banter. You’ve practically ingrained yourself in his life already and Namjoon isn’t sure if that’s good or a little terrifying. He’s not the type to usually feel comfortable with a stranger so quickly. He’s glad Yoongi had you take his place, he doubts it would have been this pleasurable if he had had to place an ad online.
There’s a ghost of a smile stuck on his face when he closes the door to his bedroom. Being alone in his room brings forth the thoughts he’d pushed aside back to the forefront. His computer monitor lights up the space, calling him back. The mixing board on his desk blares a signal he can’t ignore. He has a project to finish and the deadline is knocking at his door incessantly. He sits in his chair with a sigh and slips his headphones over his ears, blocking out the loud patter of raindrops on his window.
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He awakes with a start. His back is sore and his skin is damp with sweat. He’s too old to be falling asleep on his desk like this, he’s going to feel it in the morning. The room is pitch black around him. A quick jiggle of the mouse tells him the computer is dead and there’s a hint of panic at the thought of having lost his work. Rationale takes over to remind him that it automatically gets stored on the cloud at consistent intervals. They’ve learned their lesson too many times before implementing that.
There’s an odd irritation at the back of his mind and he realizes the thrum of the AC is missing. Ah, no power. The storm must have knocked it out. His muscles scream from the stretch and there’s more than a few uncomfortable cracks when he gets up and extends his arms above his head. He slips out of his clothes in hopes that more skin in contact with any air might help him cool down. Besides, he always sleeps in his boxers anyway. The air has dried up his throat and he can feel his body begging for water. He grabs the latest water bottle to litter his desk, tips it all the way upside down but not a drop comes.
He hopes he can traverse the apartment to the kitchen silently. Between his heavy footsteps and the stubborn squeaky floorboard outside his bedroom he’s worried about waking you. He sends a silent prayer into the universe that you’re a deep sleeper.
He does hit the floorboard, sending a creek into the night and he freezes for a second but no angry outbursts come from your room to scold him. He’s slowly taking a step in front of the other, carefully moving his weight from one foot to the next, the little smack of his sole hitting the wooden floor melding into the sounds of the rain still pouring outside.
The pressure from the faucet sends the water stream beating onto the metal of the sink and he hopes the curse he lets out fades into the night. He downs two whole glasses before he feels sated and prepares for the slow trek back to his room.
He’s just outside your door when the apartment flashes as lightning touches down in the distance. Namjoon stops moving as the roll of thunder comes quickly behind, nearly covering the strangled gasp from the other side of the door.
“Y/N? Are you okay in there?" The door to Yoongi’s room always had trouble latching since Namjoon drunkenly threw himself into the frame thinking he was heading into his own bed one night.
There’s a small crack where he can press his ear to. He holds his breath, straining to hear above the rattle of the heavy rain against the windows. For a second he believes he must’ve imagined it, or perhaps you’d shifted in your sleep.
He has one foot in the air, prepared to shuffle back to his own room when he hears it again. A choked sob hidden between the pitter patter of drops slamming against the glass.
He’s more insistent this time when he calls your name and pairs it with a soft knock against the wood of your door.
The noise seems to give you a spook because he swears you let out a high pitched ‘EEK’ in your surprise. There’s no additional verbal answer so he takes his chances on turning the knob and poking his head inside.
“Y/N? It’s okay, it’s just me. It’s Namjoon,” he reassures.
He can’t see a thing, the room is pure darkness. The streetlights outside have gone down with the rest of the power grid so he can’t tell if you’re hurt or might need help.
“Joonie?” There’s a soft voice coming from where he knows the bed is, muffled and timid.
“Yeah, can I come in?” he asks.
“Yeah,” comes an answer, meek and nearly whispered.
He hadn’t come into this room since you unpacked so he’s careful to take small, careful steps towards the bed, nearly bent in half with his arms out to feel for any furniture you might have moved into the path. He taps the bed tentatively when he finally reaches it, feeling long limbs under his palm.
He shyly takes his hands off you and makes his way towards the headboard, knees hitting the edge of the mattress as guidance. He reaches out again, expecting to find you but he only feels more blanket covered lumps.
“Are you hiding under the blanket?”
No words come but the hard shape under his palm moves in a nodding motion. He sinks down, kneeling onto the floor a little harder than he expected. Difficult to judge distance in the darkness.
“Can I pull the comforter down? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”
The fabric moves under his touch until the feeling of goose down turns into silky hair. He moves his fingers down, grazing your ears until they reach your cheeks, damp and hot against his skin.
“Are you crying? What’s going on? Is moving away from home for the first time getting to you?” It definitely had for him at first. He’d go back to his parents’ house every night to have his mother’s cooking for dinner and only started spending the evenings at the apartment after his younger sister had mocked him about not being able to stay too far from his mother’s comfort.
You let out a shamed whine below him. “No…” He stays silent, waiting to see if you’ll share more. “The thunder woke me up and then I tried to turn on the light but it wouldn’t work. And-”
Lightning interrupts you and as the room flashes in sudden light Namjoon sees your face for an instant. Your eyes are wide, laced with red from the tears but one thing he can tell for sure is that in that second- you’re absolutely terrified.
Your breath gets shaky and there’s a twitch in your hands where he can tell you struggle not to throw the blanket back over your head to escape.
“Shhh, it’s okay. You’re afraid of the storm, I get it.” His grip on you tightens when he feels you tremble as the thunder rolls behind.
“You can say it. It’s stupid to be scared of storms. I’m just a big weenie.”
“I’d never call you a weenie, Y/N. You know, my friend JK is afraid of microwaves. Runs out of the kitchen and hides across his apartment every time he needs to heat something up. He’s convinced they’re going to blow up and take him with them in the blast.”
You snort, which is followed by a loud slap of skin on skin that he can only assume is you covering your mouth in response to the noise that just escaped. He’s huffing out his own chuckle in response. Adorable.
“Okay, so what are you afraid of then Mr. Tough Guy?” You’re more combative now. He’ll take that over the fearful demeanor you had a minute ago.
“Me? Hmm, I don’t think there’s anything too unusual. I’m not super fond of spiders, I suppose?”
“Spiders? But Yoongi told me you’re obsessed with crabs. They’re basically water spiders. They walk similarly and they’ve even got more legs!” Oh, you’re heated now but you’ve hit him where it hurts.
“How dare you!” The offended gasp he lets out overtakes the drone of rain coming from outside. “Crabs are cute little friends. I have half a mind to walk out and leave you alone in this storm after that.” He fakes getting up but a small hand digs into the flesh of his bicep.
“Don’t! Please. I’m sorry, crabs are adorable, you’re right. I was just kidding. Don’t leave.” He can hear the fear engulfing your voice in your plea.
“No, no, it’s okay. I was just joking. I’ll stay as long as you need.” He didn’t mean to trigger your panic again, especially since he had just gotten you to calm down a bit.
“You might be here a while then, it doesn’t seem to want to let up anytime soon.”
“No worries. Let me just get off my knees. I won’t be able to walk tomorrow if I spend all night bent like this.” He makes to switch to sitting on the floor but you stop him.
“Do you… uhm, want to lay on the bed? There’s more than enough room for two. I’m not like Rose, that bitch.”
“Are you sure? I can sit here, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” You’d known each other barely 12 hours. He didn’t want to appear pushy in your vulnerable state. He’s enough of a gentleman to know to make space for the women in his life to ease themselves into his presence in a manner where they feel safe.
“Don’t worry. Yoongi told me enough about you for me to know you’re the least scary man on this planet. Only way you’d hurt me is if you fell on top of me, which I’ve been warned may happen more than I expect so be careful climbing in.” He feels you scooch over to the other side of the bed, leaving a wide open space for him to settle into.
There’s still some hesitation that weighs heavily in his limbs but when he sees how your body jumps when another bolt touches down and illuminates the room his resistance melts away. His movements are slow as he eases himself onto the mattress.
“Do you have enough space?” you ask.
If he’s being honest he’s certain half his body is teetering off the edge but he’s more concerned about overcrowding you. “I’m fine, don’t worry. You should try to sleep, you had a long day.”
You’re answering with a half hearted mumble and the room is overtaken with the battering of rain on the windows. Namjoon stays alert, hoping to feel your breathing even out to indicate that sleep has claimed you but it never comes.
“Are you still awake?” Your voice is barely a whisper and if he wasn’t specifically keeping an ear out, he would’ve missed it completely.
He turns onto his side, body now settled fully onto the bed with no risk of suddenly tumbling out with a wrong move. “Yeah, what’s up?”
“Can we just talk for a bit? I think that’ll help me calm down.”
“Of course, as long as you don’t insult my little crustacean friends again.”
“Were you one of those kids that would do that shark chant? ‘Fish are friends, not food.’”
“Nah, Pixar and Bruce are wrong for that. Fish are food, crabs are friends.”
“You’ll have to give me a history lesson as to why kiddie Joonie came to that conclusion if Nemo wasn’t the inspiration.” There it is again, Joonie. Namjoon huffs out a little chuckle at hearing it, letting the nickname slip under it.
“Oh,” you gasp. “I’m so sorry, I should have asked before calling you that. Do you not like it? I’ll stick to your name. Or should I be using honorifics, oppa?”
Oh, he’ll have to unpack how his stomach flips with that last part but now isn’t the time for sudden self discoveries.
“No, no! Don’t worry, it’s cute. I just wasn’t expecting it. My friends usually stick to just Joon but you can get special roomie privileges.”
“I fear you’ll one day regret that. I’m going to be so annoying from now on.” He can hear how your words are blanketed in a mischievous teasing, and he believes you but won’t admit defeat that easily.
“You’ll have to give Tae a run for his money. If he pairs up with Jimin then they’re insufferable. Hobi is a saint for having them both under the same roof with him. You don’t know the guys yet but you’ll figure it out soon enough.”
It’s easy to imagine you already melding into his little group of misfits. He thinks back to dinner when you’d teased him about listening to that ‘girly’ song, and he knows he’ll soon be babysitting four wiley dongsaengs instead of three. Sometimes five when Jungkook manages to set Seokjin off. He doesn’t realize the smile that sets itself on his lips and it’s too dark for you to comment on it.
The bed shifts and your voice is suddenly closer, indicating you’d mirrored his movements and were now facing him.
“You talk about them a lot, your friends. Yoongi does too. You must all be really close.”
“We are, like brothers honestly. I have a younger sister but meeting Yoongi was the first time I felt like I had a hyung. He’s not much for declarations of affection but I love that dude.”
“He knows. You guys are all he talks about besides his music. He loves you, too. I can tell.” Namjoon never doubted that but it’s always nice to hear.
“What about you? Do you have any siblings?” It should be an innocent question but the silence that follows feels heavy and loaded.
“I did. My little brother. He was five. He spiked a bad fever one night and had to be rushed to the hospital. My father packed him up in the middle of the night while I slept. My mother woke me up at 4 am in hysterics. We drove to the emergency room and I watched my parents fall to the floor from across the room as the doctor told them he didn’t make it. I couldn’t hear what they said from that far away but it was obvious. I’m haunted by the sounds of the storm that was raging outside as the windows shaked around me. Acute bacterial meningitis.”
“Fuck, Y/N. I’m-”
“Don’t,” you interrupt. “Don’t say you’re sorry. You have no idea how many times I’ve heard that. It doesn’t bring him back, nothing will. I’m just left with distant memories of what his laugh sounded like, and this stupid fear of storms that just reminds me of the day my family broke apart.” Your words are being spit vehemently, your throat clearly closing up as it tries to choke back sobs.
Namjoon’s arms reach out to scoop you into his chest where you lose it in earnest. You hide into the crook of his neck as he can feel your resolve break. Tears hit his skin but he says nothing. There is nothing to say, he knows. You need something to hold onto as you let the emotions run their course and that’s something he can be for you.
It’s not too long before you catch your breath, great big gasps helping your body to settle back into rhythm.
“God, I’m so sorry. Having a breakdown because of some rain, trauma dumping, having a full breakdown. I must be making a great first impression as a new roommate.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re able to let it out. Bottling all that up would cause more damage.”
“Who knew I was shacking up with a therapist. It’s the same thing my counselor told me.” You’re back to teasing and Namjoon lets out the tension in his muscles that he didn’t realize he was holding. Your giggles fade off into a comfortable silence. The rain is still loud against the glass but the trembling that shook yo uhas subsided.
“‘Joonie? Can you hold me until I fall asleep?” Your voice is shy, the request bold for someone you barely know but he agrees without apprehension.
He expects you to burrow back into his chest as you’re already nestled in from your impromptu need for comfort but you surprise him by turning around and slotting yourself against him, back pushing into his front.
“Need to sleep on my left side. You don’t mind, do you?” After your revelation, he’d give you the moon if you asked, some spooning was an easy favor to fulfill.
He simply hums in agreement not entirely trusting himself not to put his foot in his mouth at that moment. He allows you to push back until you’re comfortable and slings his arm over your waist, letting his hand hang limp over your abdomen, careful not to push any unspoken boundaries.
You take it upon yourself to scoop his arm up and hold it close to you. Namjoon closes his fingers into a fist to avoid any accidental groping since his hand now rests on your chest, just above your breasts. He can feel the curve of them against his wrist, the mounds pressing into his forearm.
No! He needs to send his mind elsewhere. He tries to focus on the patter of the drops on the window. Pit pat. Would a roll of thunder fit into any of the songs he’s currently working on? What about the clap where the beat could drop? Anything to distract him from how warm you are beside him. The humidity of the storm only aggravates the heat that seeps through his skin, making it clammy and nearly wet. You, wet against him… NO! The heat is pooling at his crotch, the pressure rising when his blood is sent southward to fill a chub in his boxers. No, stop!
He’s trying desperately to inch his pelvis away from where your ass was resting against him. The universe is truly out for his demise because another round of lightning and thunder sends you jumping, forcefully seeking the hardness of his body against you. The grip on his arm turns vicious, your nails digging into his skin and your rear flies backwards in search of a seat and finds an unexpected obstacle.
Namjoon isn’t sure which sound rings louder. The gasp you let out at your discovery or his moan as his hips involuntarily thrust up against your ass. He doesn’t dare even breathe. What were you thinking? That your new roommate was a giant pervert? That he was taking advantage of the situation when all you asked for was some comfort in a time of need? Would you tell Yoongi? His hyung might be smaller than him but he has no doubt the older man could and would beat his ass into next week for this.
He seems to be the only one spiraling into a panic because instead of screaming and shoving him out of bed you only push back again. Your movements are tentative, slowly adding pressure and grinding your ass in circles against him as if trying to memorize the shape of him against your cheeks.
He slips his arm out of your grasp to bring his hand against your hip, pushing it down to pin you into the mattress and stop the maddening teasing.
“Y/N...” His voice comes out rough in between his teeth, a clear warning.
“Are you-?” You don’t need to finish your sentence with words, opting instead to push against his hold and roll your hips backwards again to feel the length behind you.
“I definitely am now since you can’t lie still. I’m trying to comfort you right now, so I am asking very politely to please have some mercy on me and go to sleep.”
For a second, Namjoon thinks he may have been too harsh.You’re quiet against him and he hopes he hasn’t triggered another round of distress with his tone.
The worries ebb when he feels your hand sneak behind to cup where his dick pushing against the fabric of his underwear. His eyes close when the pressure against the head sends little jolts of electricity flying through his body, a loud moan accompanying them.
“What if this is the comfort I need right now? Will you give it to me?” There’s a confidence in your voice now that had been missing when the sun went down. Namjoon is glad to hear it even if it beckons his doom.
He tries his best not to move, simply letting you tease along his length, your fingers wrapped around his cock through the thin fabric barrier. The drag is dry and nearly painful but he still twitches and wets a patch when your hand comes to squeeze at the head at every stroke.
You seem to take the lack of fighting back on his part as encouragement, and you push at the waistband to finally get under his boxers and meet the feverish skin hiding under them. He helps you reach your goal by shimmying the fabric down and under his balls, freeing his cock to let you handle it as you wish.
Your hand disappears for a second only to come back wet with spit and making the first tug of skin on skin both tortuous and heavenly. He can’t help but meet your fist with a thrust, precum dripping into your hand and easing the next strokes.
You’re showing your impatience when you grab his hand from your hip to aim it towards the waistband of your own underwear. You let him figure out the rest and go back to focus on jerking him off, a little harder this time as your hips roll against thin air.
He doesn’t keep you waiting too long, slipping his hand into your panties, realizing you’ve also opted out of sleeping with bottoms. His fingers plunge low and he’s surprised at how wet you are.
“All this just from rubbing against my dick a little bit?”
“No, I’ve been wet since you pulled me into your arms. Stupid thick biceps and big tits. Figured you’d notice it wasn’t just my eyes that were leaking.” Your words come staccato while your hips desperately try to chase his fingers.
He gives you what you seek and dips his middle finger into your heat. Your muscles contract around him, hot and so wet.
“Fuck, more,” you beg. You’re doing your best to clench around him but there’s not enough to bring relief.
“Impatient.” He wants this to last. He’s barely just gotten his hands on you after all the tension of the day finally snapping. He wants to savor it but you seem to have other plans.
“Namjoon, if you don’t start fingering me properly I’ll kick you out of this bed and do it myself.”
In any other situation he’d probably call that bluff, but he doesn’t want to risk you going through with it. He adds a second finger to your core and gets to work on a punishing rhythm. He uses the angle to his advantage and digs the heel of his palm against your clit to grind onto it with every thrust of his hand.
Your threats devolve into mewls. You’re trying to keep up your own pace against his dick but your grasp is loosening and losing rhythm. Hedoesn’t care. It allows him to focus on making you lose your mind, but you don’t seem to agree with the imbalance because you’re tugging him closer to you, tip bumping into the cotton of your panties. The need overtakes you and you’re ripping his fingers out of your pussy, letting it clench around nothing and mourning the loss. Your legs clamp shut to allow you to reach around and pull the fabric away from your entrance. You push back against his cock, trying to guide him through the darkness.
“In. Want you inside.” Your words aren’t quite begging but Namjoon can hear the plea clearlyin your voice.
“Fuck, Y/N. I should stretch you out more. I don’t think you should take it like this.” He knows he’s above average and he’s unsure that between the darkness and your horny haze you've realized quite what you’re up against in the short span of the mutual masturbation session that’s happened.
“I felt it. I know you’ve got a big dick. I don’t care. Fuck. Me.”
He hesitates to argue with you. He doesn’t want to hurt you but he can feel the warm wet heat enticing the head of his cock and it’s hard to ignore the call. He loses his battle and sinks himself into you. He brings his hand back to your hip and holds himself still as you shake through acclimating to his size.
“Oh god, fuck.” He can feel your pussy tightening around him, the pulses of your walls essentially jerking him off and it’s taking all his resistance not to start rocking his hips up to meet your ass.
“I-” He’s cut off as soon as he tries to start.
“You better not say ‘I told you so’ while you’re inside me or else you’ll never be again.” The possibility of this happening again shut him up pretty quickly.
He opts to try and ease you into the feeling, lets his hand trace along your skin, up to your torso. He peppers kisses down your neck and onto your shoulder. His hand seeks out a breast under your shirt and gently takes it into his palm, massaging the flesh as his fingers tweak at the nipple.
He tries to imagine what it must look like pebbled between his thumb and index; the color of them in contrast to your skin. He’s overwhelmed with the urge to slip it between his teeth and test how hard he could nibble at it before you broke, but the current position makes it impossible and he doesn’t dare switch it now.
Your breathing becomes heavier at every pinch and twist. He can feel your chest heaving under his hand and you’re melting against him. The chokehold your pussy has on his cock also lets up a little, allowing you to rock back and forth seeking more friction.
“I’m ready.” Your voice calls him back. “You can move. Fuck me.” He starts slow and careful, long languid strokes out until only the head stays inside you, and back in with a smooth confident thrust; letting as much of his length fit as he can from this angle.
He lets his hand wander once he feels you matching his strokes, backing up to meet him at each push in. Your skin is damp under his palm and the sticky feeling would usually bother him, but he’s too enthralled by the little noises that you make with each movement.
Your hand chases after his, following where he cups at your breast, pinches at your nipple, and he notes the hitch in your breath when his large palm settles loosely at the base of your throat. He’ll have to file that one away for another day.
You eventually seem to grow frustrated with his teasing touches because you drag his hand back south and into your underwear. He spreads his fingers around where the two of you are joined. He can feel your arousal coat his cock and your pussy stretch around him, sucking him in at every stroke.
He brings his fingers up to finally give your neglected clit the attention it’s been craving. You can feel how it’s throbbing with desire. You don’t bother trying to suppress the moan that comes out in nearly a scream when Namjoon presses against your bundle of nerves with skillful pressure and maddening circles.
It’s still slow. Everything is infuriatingly slow but you can’t find your voice through the groans and gasps to ask for more, so you let him set his torturous pace and drown in the electricity coursing through your body.
You take up the mantle that he’d been forced to leave behind. You feel too good to ask to change positions but you mourn the lack of his other hand which is forced under him, unable to wreck the same havoc on your body as its twin. Your right hand travels to your torso, attempting to mimic his earlier teasing while your left holds onto his wrist between your legs to keep yourself grounded.
You melt into his touch, head lolling into the pillow. Namjoon takes advantage of your neck opening up. He finally gets to use his right arm to push his upper body enough to dip his head down where your shoulder meets your neck to attach his lips to your skin. The added feeling of his teeth biting down, paired with a hard suck and lick of his tongue sends you reeling. You push back harder, urging him to thrust in rougher, as deep as the position allows.
“So big, Joonie. Can feel you so deep.” You’re pushing his buttons and it works. You��re riling him up and he lets it happen. You sacrifice the feeling of his fingers on your clit to bring them up just above your pubic bone and push down hard making the head of his dick hit against the front of your walls. You know he can feel it push against his hand every time he hits home.
You know when he registered what’s happening because he’s pistoning into you with renewed vigor, each thrust stronger than the one before. The new pressure from his hand makes everything feel euphoric.
“Shit, Y/N. So fucking tight around me. You feel so good, sweetheart.” The praise falls from his lips without thought and the endearment slips through with ease but there’s no time to focus on it. You’re clenching around him, being brought to the edge.
Your hand replaces where his had been, fingers wild and frantic on your clit, pushing you towards your orgasm. It doesn’t take long to hit and your body goes rigid in his arms. Your muscles scream as they twitch and the wave radiates out from your core and washes over you to the tips of your limbs.
The shaking in your body subsides but the throes of pleasure still buzz under your skin from where Namjoon hasn’t slowed. He continues to push and pull his way into your body, keeping the tension alive.
“You sound so fucking hot when you cum. Feel so perfect around my cock.” No words come in reply to his, only mindless moans answer the praise. You want to tell him how good he feels inside you too, how you still need him so desperately.
“More!” You manage to gulp through the overwhelming feeling surrounding you. “Want to feel you deeper.”
His hips stutter in response, your words hit him in the pit of his stomach. He wants to give you more, whatever you want but he can’t go any further from this angle.
“Gonna have to move us around for that, okay?” His voice is muffled from where his mouth is still dug into the crook of your neck, breath heavy near your ear.
You’re nodding without giving it much thought. Whatever he wants, he can do anything he wants. You’d agree to anything if it meant getting more of the addictive feeling coursing through your veins.
His cock slips out of you and you barely have the time to whine at the loss that a yelp escapes you instead as you’re hauled up and around to land firmly on his lap, underwear being ripped away in the switch, Namjoon now spread beneath you. Your hands fly forward to balance yourself, knees planted on either side of his hips.
“Holy hell, I was kidding earlier with the tits comment but…” You let your hands finish the implication as they grab at the flesh of his chest, nails digging into his skin. “Can you flex for a second?”
His muscles tense under your touch and you can’t help the groan that slips out in response. His chest is rock hard now and you feel your body rise with the strength imbued in it. You let your hands drift downwards, nails dragging behind. You wonder if the marks will still be there tomorrow for you to see the damage you're leaving in the light of day.
You can feel each bump on his abdomen where the muscles bulge out and dip back in. You’re surprised to feel the smooth velvet tip of his cock hit your hand so quickly. You’re barely halfway down his abs and the realization of how big Namjoon actually is sinks in.
The previous position wouldn’t have had him remotely close to fully sheathed inside you. The anticipation of really feeling his entire length has you grinding down and sliding along him, trapping him between his stomach and your sopping folds.
He bucks up to meet the pressure, hands holding firm on your waist, following the pace you’ve set. He lets you roll on him, his sensitive head catching on your clit and every loop which elicits moans from both of you.
He’s sure he could cum from this alone, but he’s aching to feel you sink down on him entirely. There’s a desperate plea on the tip of his tongue, an encouragement for you to lead him back inside but he keeps quiet. He wants you to make the decision and go at the pace you need. Despite the shift in situation, Namjoon still feels the vulnerability you’re under.
His hand drifts up, letting fire spread along your skin. The electricity in the air isn’t only from the storm anymore. He’s gentle as he cups your breast, content when he can feel your chest arching forward to chase after the pressure of his touch. Your nipple pebbles despite the hot and humid air.
“Perfect,” he murmurs under his breath. He’s sure it’s low enough to stay a private confession but the low moans mixed with your thighs tightening against his hips reveal otherwise.
The praise urges you on, reigniting your movements. Namjoon almost fears you’re moving away, off from your seat on top of him. His hands are quick to reach back for yours; a silent imploration to stay but they’re unnecessary. The pressure on his chest where you anchor yourself grounds him. There’s a shake where your balance falters so you can reach beneath you and grab at his cock, holding it straight towards your core.
The darkness hadn’t bothered Namjoon until this moment. He’ll rue this day for his entire life for stealing the vision of your expression as you slowly sink down on his entire length for the first time. The whimpers that escape, as you take each inch further, are only teases compared to the satisfied groan that comes once you’re fully settled back in his lap. The entire situation is torture. The heat of the stifling summer night is nothing compared to the scorching embrace of your walls around him. There’s aftershocks of your muscles spazzing around him that pair with more moans while you acclimate to the feeling of him inside you.
Namjoon’s mouth is dry and his brain is empty. There’s a strong instinct to move, a twitch in his arms to use his strength to lift you up enough to have you slam back down but he resists.
He can hear your breathing even out, big gulps of air diminishing to a more normal rhythm. You’re fidgeting, torso lowering to come parallel to his until your breath hits his throat. He doesn’t even realize your hand had snaked away until it lands in his hair and you pull on the strands to allow your lips to stroke at the cartilage of his ear, a warm tickle accompanying your words.
“You’re so big, Joonie. Feel so full.” He knows it’s the sign he was waiting for when you end the compliment with a strong squeeze that he can feel through his entire body. All the restraint he had exhibited snaps.
It all happens at once. He reaches for a fistful of your hair to keep you still as he clumsily seeks for your lips with his own. The kiss is aggressive and too full of teeth clanking together at first. It eventually melts into something more salacious. Your lips are hot and slippery but Namjoon is aiming for more.
You’re too distracted to notice that his stance has changed. He jostles you as he plants his feet into your mattress to give him the best angle to properly pound into you. The first hard thrust is paired with a well timed bite of your lip which has you opening your mouth with a shout of pleasure. He takes advantage of the position to delve his tongue into a battle with yours, turning the dirty kiss into an even wetter mess.
Neither of you can hear the storm over the slaps of skin, low groans, and high whines from inside the room. “You hear how wet this pussy is for me? Sound so fucking pretty, bet it looks even better. We’ll have to do this again, right? So I can see you leaking over my cock properly.”
If you’re answering him it’s unintelligible in the mumbles melted into the moans that continue to spill out of you. He’s taking it as an agreement from the tightening of your core around him.
His legs eventually lower behind you, pushing you to straighten back up and work to keep up the faltering rhythm. The heat and late hour seeps into your bones but the exhaustion that lies at the edge of your consciousness is no match for the fire in your veins that feeds the lust inside you. Your hands reach behind you and grab onto meaty thighs. God, you’ll need to talk about those in the morning because you don’t have the energy to trigger another round tonight. Your head falls, back arching towards the sky. It gives Namjoon the opportunity to roam your body, soft strokes and harsh grasps.
“Come on, Joonie. What good are those big biceps for if you can’t fuck me harder?” The taunt works like magic to reinvigorate him. Large hands come back to your waist, palms digging hard into your body above your hip bones. His thumbs aim towards your core, pushing into the softness above your pelvis. It’s not as obvious as the first position on your side but he can definitely feel the shift under your skin where the pressure of his thrusting cock pushes against his fingers.
“Shit, Y/N, never felt pussy this good. My perfect girl. Are you close? Can you cum for me, baby?”
“Y-yeah, so close- fuck. You feel so good.” It wasn’t a lie, you’ve teetered on the edge for a while but you just needed a little extra push. Namjoon’s hold on you is strong enough to allow you to sneak a hand to where the two of you are joined. There’s only a flash of pleasure before your fingers are slapped away.
“Nuh uh, my job. If you want to be touched a certain way just ask for it. You’re a big girl, use your words.”
If he kept talking to you like that maybe you wouldn’t need the extra help after all but that’s an experiment for another day. “Please, Joonie, want to cum. Touch me.”
He dares to slow the pace, still upkeep the long hard strokes that hit deep inside you. “Is that the best you can do? You’re about to cum all over my cock and I’m still just Joonie? You’re not being very clear, you know. I’ve got my hands on you, I’m already touching. Be more precise. What do you want, princess?”
He’ll be the death of you, you can already tell you’ve set yourself up. Your words are coming out in choked sobs, your climax on the brink. “Please!” you exclaim, “Namjoon, please play with my clit and make me cum all over your big cock.”
He didn’t expect you to take the bait so strongly, but you asked so politely, who would he be to deny your request.
“Good girl. I’ll give you anything you ask for if you do it like that. Look all innocent but you’re just a desperate little thing, aren’t you?” His words are paired with increased speed. He pistons into you with such force that you swear you’re floating above him. The world falls away when his thumb finally comes to rub tantalizing circles around your nub, the movement a little clumsy form how wet it is between your thighs.
It doesn’t take much to reach elation. White light explodes behind your eyes making you believe the power may have returned for a second. There’s electricity living in your nerves that travel down your limbs. There’s a rawness in your throat you assume was birthed from the scream that still echoes around the room.
You catch your breath on a pile of loose limbs draped over your new roommate’s huge frame. Your muscles are spasming from the outside in. You can tell that Namjoon definitely feel it from how tense his muscles feel under your fingers. You purposefully constrict around him and the answering grunt confirms your suspicions.
It takes a second to gather enough strength to sit back up while keeping him snuggly inside you. You wish you could look into his eyes as you roll your hips over him. You know it’s not as stimulating as the hard thrusts from earlier but the sweet sounds you hear from under you seem to have him perfectly content.
“Fuck, you never stop surprising me but you really need to get off because I can’t last anymore.” There’s a tension in his tone, one that you’d hear from someone holding onto a loosening grip that could result in falling to their doom.
You let the nail from your index dig into his skin and leave a burning sensation behind as your scratch down the valley of his pecs, from his clavicle to his abdominals. “Good. Then my plan is working. Your turn to cum for me.”
“Oh, I will. The second you get off me, it’s torture to keep it in, so please-” It’s his turn to beg but you’re not as ready to give in to his demand this time around. You only double your efforts, rolling hips and tight squeezes.
“Go on, then. You wanted me to ask for what I want? Cum. I’m safe and I want you to cum inside me, Namjoon.”
There’s black magic in the way you say his name, it’s hypnotizing. Or maybe it’s the imaginary visual of what you’d look like splayed out with his cum seeping out of you that does it.
He brings his fingers back to your sensitive clit and the pressure is almost too much. You nearly beg him to give you a break but he interrupts you before you can start. “One more time, with me. If you want me to fill up that sweet pussy, you’ll have to milk it out of me.”
You can’t tell whether it’s the pressure on your clit or the dirty words from his mouth, but the wave of pleasure comes back with a mighty force and crashes through you again. You can feel your core tightening around him in spasms which triggers his own release. You can feel his cock spurting inside you, an extra layer of warmth seeping into you. You can’t hold yourself anymore and flop onto Namjoon, both of your breaths heavy and labored.
His hand strokes comfort onto your back. You don’t even mind how sweaty you both are, sticking to each other. “We should get cleaned up,” he suggests.
You dig your face into the crook of his neck in protest. “No. Tomorrow. Don’t want to move. You still feel good, don’t want you to pull out.” You purposefully twitch to make your point. His cock may be softening but it’s still firmly plugging you up. You both know you’ll regret it in the morning but you couldn’t care right now.
The exhaustion you both feel settles into contentment as sleep pulls you in. You both fall asleep without even noticing that the storm has also fallen into slumber.
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Okay, so maybe Namjoon was a little dramatic about being abandoned because it’s only a week later when Yoongi is back in his old apartment from a weekend brunch date with his friends.
You and Jin are bonding in the kitchen. Yoongi can hear his boyfriend’s windshield wiper laugh mixed with your giggles that he’s always compared to a hyena. He expected the atmosphere to be a little awkward when he came in, both of the new roommates a little shy and fond of individual activities.
But when he let himself in earlier he found both his friends sharing the couch in the living room, each with a book in hand,which wasn’t surprising, but your feet perched on Namjoon’s lap, that was a little surprising.
He had let that slide easily enough. His suspicion returns simply from how much smiling Namjoon has been doing. Smiles wouldn’t be odd for most but Yoongi has heard that man’s music lately and he’s the definition of a Sad Boi™.
The pieces fall into place when you bring in the plates and there’s lingering. From your fingers on Namjoon’s when you exchange the dish to his eyes on your ass when you turn away. Yoongi stares Namjoon down, deadpan. His friend’s eyes widen in panic once he realizes he’s been caught. Yoongi’s always been able to read him like a book.
“You motherfucker,” Yoongi spats at him just as you reenter the room.
“Now now, Yoongles. Do we need to call Dr. Lee to go through your mommy issues again? We’ve already established I’m not your mother.” You take a seat on Namjoon’s lap as if to make a point. “Besides, there’s only one person that gets to call me mommy now.” The look you and Namjoon share might be the final drop that makes him go dig for his old psych’s number that night.
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jvngkook97 · 2 years
Text
Class Act
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synopsis; in which Namjoon is the popular jock and you’re just another girl in the bleachers. OR what happens when the gentle giant takes notice of the introverted, yet dedicated fan?
pairing; college jock!namjoon x college student!reader
genre; angst, fluff, humor, smut, s2l, f2l, college au, jock au
warnings; classic college tropes, angst in the form of cheerleaders(but not all!) misjudging reader, reader has some body image issues, but mainly just a whole bunch of sweet jock Namjoon for your pleasure, a letterman jacket kink rises to the surface, reader is awkward, joon is a patient angel baby cause he’s in lOoOve with reader so much 🥺 uhhhhm there will be sexual intercourse and it will be soft and cute with protection being used cause they smart cookies(and so are you!)
rating; 21+ MINORS DNI
w/c; 4,744
a/n; happy birthday to our favorite accident prone, gentle giant, dimple baby Kim Namjoon! like + reblog if you enjoyed. don’t be a silent reader! <3 feedback is always appreciated and helps to keep this writer motivated to put out more content — like this! all the love, always.
networks; @ficscafe, @thebtswritersclub, @btshoneyhive, @kflixnet
It was another chilly September evening.
The flood lights that surround the football field are bright as ever, allowing the football players to continue playing as the night continues on.
You secure your jacket tighter around your shivering figure, the unforgiving wind still somehow making it through the thick material no matter how hard you try otherwise. The people around you both cheer when your team scores a touchdown, and boo when the away team does.
All of that is trivial, however, seeing as your main focus is on the tallest member of the team, making it easier for you to decipher him amongst the other players.
Kim Namjoon. The gentle giant.
The bleachers erupt into a fit of cheers, hooting, and hollering, your team winning the game by a landslide. Not that you ever doubted it. Namjoon and the other players gradually make their way off the field and towards the locker rooms to get washed up. With your seat being next to the corridor that they walk through, you get a good luck as they go by.
Namjoon is waving politely at those that chant his name in earnest. He’s not the quarterback, but he’s just as popular, if not more. His talents are phenomenal when it came to the sport, everyone sure that he was going to get recognized by an agent and signed by end of his college career.
You join the rest of those that chant his name, though your voice is easily drowned out by those who aren’t afraid to scream their hearts out. For a split second, your eyes lock with his. That dimpled smile widens, and you woefully wish it’s due to you, though you know that can’t be true considering you’ve never gained the courage to talk with him.
You imagine it’s cause of you anyways.
*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*
The following Monday you’re taking your normal stroll through the large campus courtyard. It’s littered with students that share the same goal as you, making it to their class on time. Up ahead, you see the jocks and cheerleaders formed in their usual circle located next to the fountain that’s planted dab in the middle of said courtyard.
You spot Namjoon easily.
He’s laughing from something that Cherry said, cheer captain and from what you heard, now ex of Kim Namjoon. From their interaction, you wonder if those were just rumors, or maybe they just ended on good terms. You wouldn’t put it past Namjoon to stay civil in that kind of situation.
Due to your zoning out on the dimpled male, you fail to watch where you’re going, and make the fatal mistake of knocking into Jin, another member of the football team. The action causes a domino effect from the force in which you accidentally plow him with, ultimately making Cherry stumble into Namjoon and having him catch her effortlessly. His face is worried as he asks if she’s okay, she says yes.
His eyes then flicker to yours, as does everyone around him when they realize that you’re the culprit.
“Aiiiiish! You should be apart of the team with that powerful of a tackle, y/l/n.”
Jin turns and jests at your embarrassed figure good naturedly, a grin on his face so as to show there’s no hard feelings on his part. The same sentiment can’t be said for a few of the cheerleaders who were collateral damage.
“You’re right, Jin. She’s certainly built like a dude.” Cherry’s co-captain and best friend sardonically chimes in with a smirk on her face. The comment creates scattered laughter throughout the group in agreement, all except for Namjoon, you notice.
Your face flushes at the jab, you being well aware that your chest wasn’t quite as developed as most women your age. Your lip trembles, and you bite it in hopes of stopping the tears that begin to build in your eyes. You make a show of deeply bowing to the group, mumbling a ‘sorry, please excuse me’ before standing up straight and briskly walking past.
Namjoon makes a step towards your retreating figure, promptly getting stopped by Cherry’s hand that curls itself around his bicep. His face that was once full of worry for his ex, still held the same expression, but this time for you.
He made a mental note that next time he saw you he was going to apologize on behalf of his so called ‘friends’.
*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*
You make it to class without a hitch. The day drones on like it always does, and it’s not until that final bell rings do you sigh in relief. You clutch your binder into your chest, both arms folded around it as you step back outside into the courtyard, this time with the end destination being your bed.
You get close to the school gates before you’re stopped by a loud voice. A loud, familiar voice.
“Y/N! Hey! Wait up!”
You stiffly turn in the direction where the voice is coming from, seeing Kim Namjoon in all his beautiful, letterman jacket wearing glory make it to you in a second flat from his long legged strides. Your knuckles turn white from how hard you’re holding your binder now, something Namjoon’s eyes dart to as he gets close enough to stand a few feet away from your shorter figure.
His full, dimpled smile is on display, and this time you know for a fact that it’s meant for you only. Your brain malfunctions, and you miss the words that come out of his mouth next, the only thing you register is his lips moving to form said words.
You blink. Once, twice. His smile doesn’t falter, but he does lean in closer to your face, one slender finger coming up to gently poke the crease in between your brows that seemed to form without you knowing. It must be from how confused you are about the situation at hand.
As if time unpaused itself, your brain clears up enough for you to speak, though your voice cracks when you do.
“I’m–, I’m sorry. What did you say?”
“I was asking if you were available to accompany me to this new diner that opened up down the street. I wanted to treat you.”
His hands are stuffed into his letterman jacket, he’s rocking himself on the balls of his feet as he waits for your answer patiently. Eyes staying trained on your face, he surveys out of his peripheral the outfit you’re wearing. It’s cute, different, unique. He likes it, a lot.
Your eyes narrow, and for the first time does his usually confident smile begin to dim.
“Is this some kind of a bet?”
His eyes widen, face crestfallen at your misconception of his genuine interest in you.
“Excuse me?” Now it’s his turn to gain those creases between his brows.
“Are your friends going to pop out of the bushes and yell ‘gotcha!’?”
He doesn’t miss the way you elongate the word friends with a hint of distaste on your tongue. He’ll be the first to admit that his choice of company can be downright rude, and wonders what other slurs you had to endure by them before he transferred to this college his junior year.
“No, they’re not. I promise I only come to you with good intentions and on the basis of wanting to get to know you better. Is that alright with you?” He ends with a question, and once again awaits your answer. There’s no signs of malice or ill intent as he looks at you, but you can’t help the walls you’ve built over the years.
Pursing your lips, you reply.
“No, thank you. I wouldn’t want to further endure the wrath of the cheerleading squad when your girlfriend finds out. So, good day.”
You pivot on your heel, decision resolute.
An enlarged hand grasps your own, and you stop in your tracks, back towards him.
“She’s not my girl–well, she was-but not anymore. We broke up awhile ago. Like, months ago. She even has a new boyfriend already, he’s a cool dude.”
He’s nonchalant when he speaks, his grip on your hand loosens when you turn your attention back on him, but he still keeps ahold on your hand incase you attempt to ditch him again.
“Only you would talk highly of an ex’s new boyfriend, I swear. You’re like a freaking unicorn.”
He lets out a bellowing, open mouthed laugh that seems to take over his entire face, his eyes crinkling, that reverberates through his hand and into yours, causing your arm to shake lightly as a result. A hint of a smile appears on your face that makes him gasp in pure delight.
He points at your mouth with a cheeky, dimpled, grin.
“There’s that smile!”
Your immediate reaction is to hide your face in your chest, an action he prevents you from doing as he uses his other hand to cup your chin and steer your gaze back onto his. His hand is still warm from its previous home in his jacket, you note, despite the cold air around you two.
“You shouldn’t hide your face, it’s pretty.”
From that point on, you were hooked.
*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*
Once again, you’re walking your normal route to class within the courtyard. Namjoon and his group of friends are a few yards away from you, but this time when he notices you, he makes a point to break away with haste, apologies spew from his supple lips to those he squeezes past to get to you.
Jin is the last to let him past, giving you an enthusiastic wave. Even Cherry and her posse give you smiles in greeting that you return. Namjoon’s arms encase themselves around your waist as he hoists your small frame and twirls you both in a circle. He’s still holding you up off the ground, and you slowly slide down enough to plant a soft, but meaningful kiss on his lips. You could feel him smile into it, and it makes your teeth clash for a moment.
When you mutually pull away for fresh air, you barely have time before he’s peppering you with kisses all over your face. From behind, Jin patronizes you both on your disgusting public display of affection.
“Oi! Get a room you two!”
Using one arm to hold you, he makes a point to flip Jin off with his free hand that makes you roll your eyes at their antics. You give him a few pats on his shoulder, your way of telling him to set you back down on solid ground. He pouts cutely, but obliges.
Throwing an arm around your shoulder instead, your fingers thread through his dangling ones over your shoulder as he leads you to your first class of the day. Too soon do you arrive, and he leans against the side of the wall next to the door with his lips already puckered in waiting. You lean up this time to oblige his height as best as you can, not noticing when he subtly leans down further to accommodate your height difference.
Inbetween kisses, he asks you a question.
“Am I still able to come over after the game tonight?”
His eyes are hopeful, smile widening when you nod in affirmation to his question. He gives you a loving pat on the head, before using both hands to secure your head long enough for him to plant a kiss on your forehead and then he’s off and heading to his own class with a wave of his hand, barely managing to dodge a gaggle of girls in time before crashing into them.
You wave back with a shake of your head at your clumsy giant, smile of your own adorning your face as a light hue rises in your cheeks of what’s to come.
You couldn’t wait.
*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*
Just like in the beginning, you’re back in your favorite spot on the bleachers to watch your now boyfriend own the field like he always does. Off to the side, not to far from where you are, you catch a snippet of conversation between a dude who looks way to formally dressed to be at a college football game and Namjoon’s coach. When Namjoon’s body hurdles by them with the football in hand, does the formal guy point at Namjoon with a serious look on his face. His coach crosses his arms over his chest with a puff of his chest, a smug smile on his face as he nods to whatever the formal dude is saying.
Huh. You wonder what that’s about.
You join the rest of the crowd around you in a standing, deafening applaud for the entire football team as they make their way through the corridor after a major win of the season. Your eyes scan the members in search of Namjoon’s loving eyes, but you don’t see him.
It’s not until your eyes shift back towards the field, do you find him with his helmet tucked under his arm, a beaming smile on his face as he talks to coach and mystery dude. The latter pats Namjoon on the shoulder as you make your way slowly down the bleachers to the stairs that lead to on the field. When your feet touch the astroturf and you begin your small trek to the three men, does the mystery dude bid his goodbyes and walk past you.
The coach and Namjoon are hugging each other tightly, coach shouting praises at Namjoon.
“I knew you would be something kid. I just knew it!”
“Thanks, coach. This wouldn’t have been possible without you!”
You walk up as they separate, and you have a wary smile on your face, your gut telling you that you just might know what transpired, but choosing to stay silent and wait for Namjoon to tell you himself.
If possible, his smile becomes broader when he sees you. Dropping his helmet to the ground, he ditches it in favor of holding your body tightly against him. You hug him back just as enthusiastically, his breath fanning your ear as he speaks.
“I did it, baby! I got recruited for a team!”
You gasp in astonishment, eyes watering due to how happy you are for Joon. This has been his goal for as long as he could throw a football, you couldn’t be more proud of him. Your arms tighten around his neck as you bury your face into him. He can feel your body shake with happy sobs, and can’t help the emotion of the moment when he joins you in the sobfest.
The coach is long gone when you two collect yourselves, Namjoon using his thumbs to wipe the tear streaks from your face as he smiles at you lovingly. Your nose is red and eyes are puffy, but he’s never seen you look more beautiful than you do at this moment.
He leans down to kiss you. It’s soft, slow, but full of passion.
“I love you, y/n.”
The words are whispered between kisses and instead of responding with words, you opt for action in the form of deepening the kiss with a mix of tongues as you battle for dominance.
He wins. He always wins.
*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*
Namjoon is manspreading on your bed wearing nothing but black boxers, arms behind his head as he watches your shy, hesitant body make its way past the frame of the door. Your arms are crossed over your chest in self doubt of how risqué you chose to dress yourself tonight for Namjoon’s pleasure – and your own.
It’s a sheer, black, silky slip that caught your eye in the mall recently. The lady that helped you pick it out reassured you that you would look so good that he wouldn’t be able to keep his hands off of you. But, as you look at his now stiff body, face void of emotion, you conclude it must’ve just been her trying to meet her sales quota for that day.
Your body folds in on itself, your flight response immediately wanting to kick in and save you from your utter embarrassment at trying and failing to look sexy. Namjoon snaps out of his lust induced haze to see your fear stricken one, and he instantly hops off the bed to secure you within his arms with endearing words of praise spoken into your hair as he rocks you both side to side.
“I’m sorry, baby. My brain fried there for a second when I saw how gorgeous you look.”
He pulls away, but keeps his hands on your shoulders, rubbing the tops of them occasionally as his eyes rake over your perfectly curved, thick figure with both love and lust.
“Just gorgeous?”
His eyes snap to yours when your meek voice passes your lips, his brows scrunching in confusion. He goes to question you, but you beat him to the answer.
“I was trying to go for more along the lines of sexy–,” your eyes look everywhere but his as you continue, self deprecating thoughts fill your mind for a moment as you become your own worst critic. “–I bet if I had bigger boobs–,”
“I’m gonna stop you right there.”
His hand on your chin, makes you look at him. His eyes hold nothing but warmth when he speaks.
“You are sexy, baby. So fucking sexy.”
Your eyes widen, a soft gasp escapes your lips. He trails one hand down your arm and to your hand, before he’s leading you both back to your bed. Guiding you to lay down, he then takes a moment to savor the way your body naturally parts your legs in anticipation of him being between them. Not wanting to disappoint, he kneels between your legs and uses the strength of his arms to hover over your form.
“I don’t want you ever doubting how I feel about you, okay? If you’re feeling down, let me know. I’ll be glad to show you otherwise.” A cheeky smirk adorns his face and your cheeks tint, small smile beginning to curl at the edge of your lips.
“There’s that smile I love.”
“Shut up.”
You pull him down by his neck to kiss him, it starts out slow and sensual, before turning into a kiss of pure need for one another. Your bodies react, his lower half grinds into yours and you can feel the effect you have on him. You whimper into the kiss, the weight of his crotch rubs deliciously into your clit that makes you want more.
“Please, Joonie. No teasing.”
“Fine, fine. One thing though, something I always wanted to try.”
You tilt your head in bewilderment when he pushes himself off of you to cross your room to the duffel bag that lays on the floor next to your desk. Unzipping it, he ruffles through the contents until he finds what he’s looking for – his letterman jacket.
He makes his way back to you and gestures for you to sit up, which you do. Grabbing the bottom of your slip dress, he helps you pull it off until your left nude in front of him. He bites his lip, and throws the jacket around your shoulders, encouraging you to slink your arms through the sleeves, which again, you do. He then sits back to both admire you and take in his fantasy come to life.
You wearing nothing but his letterman jacket.
His Adam’s apple bobs, pupils blown, as you yourself admire the jacket around you. The semi rough material rubs against your nipples and makes them harden. The scent of Joon is all over it, and you can’t help but bring the collar up to your nose to savor it with your eyes closed in content.
A shaky exhale is what has your eyes popping back open to witness Namjoon sink to his elbows between your legs. You whine at his actions.
“Joon, I said no teasing tonight.”
“Baby, please? This has been a fantasy of mine for a long time now, I just want to taste you real quick.” He whines back cutely, full on pout plastered on his face that you just can’t say no too.
You give a mock huff of feigned annoyance and let yourself plop back comfortably onto the pillows beneath you, he pumps a fist in the air in triumph that has you lightly hitting him in the back of his head with the heel of your foot to hurry up.
Then, he doesn’t waste any time.
He dives in, planting one solid lick to your outer folds that leads to the hood of your clit. He places one hand between you both to gently tug the hood of your clit up so he can blow softly on it. The cool sensation makes your body erupt with goosebumps, and then he’s placing a hard suck on your clit that has your eyes rolling to the back of your head. Your knees unconsciously begin closing upon contact, but he uses his other free hand to hold one of your legs down, preemptively giving him better access to your core.
He switches his attention from your clit, and down to your now glistening hole, where he allows his middle finger to slide inside up to the knuckle, taking it out a second later to rub circles around your hole. Your hips buck, hole clenching around nothing, missing the intruding digit already. He continues this torturous routine until you start to become frustrated at your lack of relief, the edging beginning to take a toll on you.
“Namjoon, you better start–,” you begin to berate him, but your words turn into soft pants when he chooses at that exact moment to add two more digits into your hole at a fast pace, curling them to the point he’s able to feel your soft spot. His pace is unrelenting as you grip the sheets, back arching and mouth parting in a silent scream. Your toes begin to curl and he watches with hooded eyes as you come undone for the first time that night before him. Your orgasm washes over your spasming body in waves, and he’s quick to replace his fingers with his big mouth to lewdly slurp up your essence like a man starved for water. Some of it eludes his mouth to dribble down his chin and onto the bedding beneath you.
“Fuck. Namjoon. Stop. I can’t.”
You beg breathlessly, fingers gripping his hair in a vice to lift his head off your oversensitive pussy. He places one last wet kiss to each of your inner thighs, then trails up your body to your breasts. He takes one in each hand, gently massaging them to squish them together so he can take advantage of his big mouth and tongue to both lick and suckle each nipple with the same amount of attention.
You use the opportunity to come down from your high, to a still pleasurable, but not overbearing different kind of stimulation. After a few minutes, he uses one hand to push down his boxers enough to kick them off the bed with his feet. Getting back up on his knees, he reaches over the side of you to your side table drawer and fetches out a condom you make sure to keep just incase. He opens it and rolls it on, being sure to pinch the tip to make room for his own slick to fill.
He lines up his length with your still semi spasming hole, but looks up at you with a question in his eyes that gets answered just as quietly when you wrap your legs around his waist. Both of you let out a grunt of satisfaction when he stills, fully inside.
“Are you okay?”
You don’t realize your eyes closed on their own as your body adjusted to Namjoon’s girth. When you open them, you see his face hovering over yours with concern pooling in his.
“I’m good, Joon. You can move.”
Leaning down, he gives you a lingering kiss on your lips as he begins to move his hips against yours. He doesn’t go fast, choosing tonight as one to be savored. It’s an important one after all, he wants to remember it.
You thrust your own hips up in the slow, rhythmic tempo that he’s set, encouraging him to his first orgasm of the night. He buries his face in your neck, giving sloppy thrusts until he stills. Using what little strength you have left, you place the palms of your hands on his chest and push him until he’s laying on his back on the bed. You take your time straddling him, rubbing your folds against his length once, twice – it’s not until the third swing of your hips does he place his hands on your love handles in order to guide his length back into your warmth.
You chuckle at his impatience, and he glowers at you playfully.
“I thought you said no teasing?”
“Figured I’d give you a taste of your own medicine is all.”
You’re playing innocent, but he knows better. He lets you ride him at your own pace, letting his hands roam all over your breasts, your stomach, your thighs. Eventually, when he feels your walls begin to constrict around his own growing length, does he drop his hand where you two meet in order to rub soft, yet perfect amount of weight on your clit to help spur both of your impending orgasms.
Throwing caution to the wind, you splay your hands on his chest to get better leverage and a better angle, increasing your pace from a slow one to a fast one that has both of you a panting mess trying to chase your highs at the same time. You let out a broken whimper and he knows you’re closer to yours, but he wants to cum at the same time as you, finding the rare occurrence just another way of togetherness in his mind between you both when it does happen.
Easing his assault on your clit, he plants his heels into the bed to thrust up at a brutal pace, his cock pistons in and out of your sopping hole and you let out a sob at the orgasm that suddenly hits you at the same time that his does. He only stops when you can’t hold yourself up anymore and choose to lazily plop yourself off to the side of him on the bed, face flushed, eyes closed, and ready for sleep already.
He’s not too far behind you, wanting to crash after that love making session, but he needs to clean up first and so do you. He gives your ass a light slap and you groan into the pillow in reply.
“Let’s clean up, baby. Then sleep.”
You flip him off. He playfully bites your fingertip.
*+*+*+*+*+*+*+*
The next day you’re both taking an early morning walk around campus, your small hand held tightly in his large one. Ever since last night, he takes any chance he can get to see you wearing his letterman jacket, so that’s what you’re currently wearing over your outfit.
You don’t mind though, in fact, you love it.
Like you love him.
So, you say it for the first time since he’s confessed.
“Joon?” He looks down at you with a curious look on his face, and waits patiently for you to speak when he notices how shy you’re getting. It brings him back to the first day he met you.
“I love you too.”
Your favorite dimpled smile makes an appearance. You two meet in the middle for a loving kiss. You go to pull away, but he secured a hand on the back of your neck to keep you a hair width away as he speaks lowly, honestly.
“I always saw you.”
You tilt your head in confusion.
“Saw me?”
“Yeah. In the bleachers. You went to every game. I even saw the sign you made with just my number on it, but it helped me get that winning touchdown.”
“You’re joking.”
“Serious as a heart attack.”
A puff of laughter escapes your lips, your lips grazing his during the act that has him chasing yours for another. His shoulders bounce as he lightly laughs along with you.
Another reason you love wearing his jacket? It lets everyone around you know that you’re his.
That you would always be his.
3K notes · View notes
bts-0t-7 · 18 days
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BTS | KNJ | FIC RECS
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Here is the Namjoon Collection!! Just a few of my favourites. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do!
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Dom daddy Joon, @joonsmagicshop (Namjoon/Reader Jungkook/Reader, daddy kink, masturbation)
Caramel, @casuallyimagining (fluff, angst, slice of life)
Oh, Honey!, @yoongiofmine (Fluff, angst, so much smut, strangers to lovers, sugar daddy au.)
What's left of us, @yoongiofmine (fluff, angst, smut, non idol au, exes au.)
Out of the woods, @angelicyoongie (fluff, angst, slight smut, wolf hybrid namjoon x human f!reader)
There's gonna be no take two, @sopebubbles (Idol!Kim Namjoon x reader, angst)
Reckless, @vyduan (angst, idolverse, friends to lovers, slow burn, canon compliant)
Drunk in love, @joon4eva (one-shot ; friends-to-lovers au)
Gift Wrapping, @btsqualityy (fluff, slice of life)
We have time, @souryoong (boyfriend!namjoon x reader, smut)
Prohibido, @personasintro (brother's best friend au, fluff, angst smut)
Bellisima, @personasintro (parents au, fluff, smut)
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daltokki-rchive · 23 days
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Warnings: 18+ to interact, RM is big, a smidge size kink? (if you squint your eyes), mention of a belly bulge, cream pie, a small bit of dirty talk???, again- Namjoonie is big
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Beefy Namjoon who isn’t phased one bit on man handling you.
His big hands grabbing you and bringing you close to his body. You’re so small compared to him. He can bench press twice your weight as a warm up in the gym.
And he loves that he can just easily move you around if need be.
Pulling you to the other side of him so he’s on the outside while you two are walking in public.
Wrapping his arms around your middle as he waits patiently in line with you. Stands in front of you when the suns in your way.
It’s convenient.
It’s especially good for when he keeps you pinned to the bed as he slides his big warm cock into your small pussy. Eyes glued to where you two are connected, his hand pressing on the top of your tummy, “you’re so tight,” he mumbles in awe. “Took three of my fingers and still making you stretch for me.”
You’re a loss for words, eyes fluttering close as you squeeze around his shaft, feeling him slowly split you in half. “Do you like feeling me in your stomach, baby?” He laughs softly and you’re gasping as he finally bottoms out.
He’s big that he gives you a little bulge each time he moves his hips back only to slam forward. His long fingers wrapped around your wrists, pulling you to meet his thrusts half way. He has your legs over his shoulders, man handling you into the perfect position. Sinking back between your warm thighs with a low groan.
And you’re so wet, the slide back in makes a squelching noise each time his hips hit the back of your thighs. Your eyes roll back each time he presses in deeper, his tip brushing the soft spot inside you that makes your toes curl.
You’re a babbling fool, taking everything he gives you. Dripping arousal with each thrust you leave a creamy shine on his dick each time he pulls a couple inches out.
And when he can feel you squeeze him tighter, he grins, flashing those dimples as he moves a hand between your legs. His thumb pressing into your clit as he fucks you. Pushing you over the edge with his name on your lips.
You shudder, throbbing around his cock as he doesn’t let up. Fucking you through your orgasm, thumb still playing with your clit. You’re sucking him in deeper, whining in overstimulation before you finally feel him twitch inside you. His hands grabbing your hips, keeping you in place as he fills you up, rope after rope of cum painting your insides white.
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dambaepuff · 2 months
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STRAW-BEAR-IES
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☆Pairing: BearHybrid!Namjoon x GN!Reader
☆Genre: hybrid au, fluff, one-shot, pg-13
☆Warnings: none!
☆Word count: 4.3k
☆Summary: You noticed the strawberries in your garden started going missing a few weeks ago, the bushes often being smushed as if something big stepped onto them. Slowly you start to find other parts of your large garden in disarray as well. Who might be this crop thief stealing from you?
☆A/N: Hi!! This is the first time I’ve ever posted onto this account, I hope you’ll like it. I’m thinking of making it a series potentially? Feel free to let me know your thoughts and suggestions and/or if you have any sort of criticism and tips. Also beware of the fact that I do not have a beta reader and English isn’t my first language so there might be some mistakes!!
You sigh as you step into your garden and close the gate. It seems as though someone payed it a visit again last night. The once beautiful green grapes you had growing were now gone, the vines torn down, the trellises bent in funky ways and all the leaves crumpled. You take off your gardening gloves and stuff them into your apron’s front pouch. Your bare hands softly touch the now ruined plant, trying to examine the damage and determine if it’s salvageable. With a huff you bend down and grab onto the plant’s support structure, making sure your footing is firm you get to work with lifting everything up and fixing it.
“Hm, I need the toolbox for this one.” You mumble to yourself, letting go of the structure and tumbling backwards a little. Set on repairing the trellis, you start walking towards the shed. With a pep in your step you start to whistle a random tune, stuffing your hands into your pockets and fishing around for the key to the shed. As you pull out the keys and start to fumble around with them, trying to spot the square silver key, you catch movement in the corner of your eye. At first you brush it off as wind rustling branches, but then you register a large brown lump moving around. Your head shoots up and you immediately freeze up. About ten meters away from you stands a large grizzly bear, sniffing around in the bushes on your property. With fear coursing through your veins, the sudden adrenaline makes your thoughts turn hazy. Starting to fumble with the keys faster you decide it’s best to hide in the shed till it leaves, however once the jingle of the metal clinking resumed the bear’s head rose. It’s black eyes landed directly onto you. Your hands shook and you dropped the keys, your panic starting to become more prominent.
Just as you thought the wild animal was going to pounce, it turned around and ran in the opposite direction as if it was the one scared to death. You halted all your movements in confusion, letting out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Wiping the sweat that accumulated on your forehead you picked up the bundle of metal from the ground and finally found the right key. Quickly shutting the door, you let yourself slump against it. Thumping your head against the wood, you let out a sigh of relief.
After that day you were on edge for a little while, but it wasn’t long till you went back to your usual routine. One morning you had gathered all of the produce that was overly ripe into one large bucket. Now wanting it to go to waste you fed part of it to some of your animals and the rest you had left out in front of the garden in hopes of the thief taking from there instead of ruining all your hard work. You had been carving away at a small piece of wood whilst laying on your hammock when you heard rustling behind you. Slowly turning around you spotted the same brown bear eating away at the produce you had left in the bucket. Your heart started to pound in fear, not knowing what to do you laid back down and tried to be as still as possible, hoping that the beast would be gone soon. The munching noises you could faintly hear stopped at some point and everything went quiet. Tightly shutting your eyes you prayed it was going back to where it came from, but instead you heard heavy footsteps coming towards you. A tear brimmed your eye, your skin prickled with goosebumps and your blood pumped so hard you could hear it. Shallow breaths took over your body, each one of your muscles tensing. The footsteps stopped right beside you, a warm breath tickled your face. The animal let out a deep groan, curiously starting to sniff you. Unable to open your eyes from the terror you used sound and your imagination to be able to tell what the bear was doing. It’s sniffing stopped at your hands, it’s wet snout nudging your skin. You cracked one eye open and saw the large beast staring at the small wooden figurine you had been carving. It’s eyes held no hunger or malice, it looked interested and almost kind? Unsure if you were seeing right, you fully opened your eyes, gawking up at the creature. It looked down at you and then back at your hands, almost as if it was asking what you were doing.
“Uhm, this?” You asked, your voice coming out weak as you held up your creation. The bear grunted and nodded its head. “Oh it’s just a little figurine I was making, it’s supposed to be a dog.” You said wide eyed, to which the bear nodded. “You can… You can understand me?” You squeaked out. The bear nodded again and let out a small grunt. Your confusion only doubled, yet your interest was piqued. You set down the carving onto your stomach and reached out one of your hands, slowly bringing it up to the bears head. Hesitantly you set it down, the fur feeling softer than you’d imagine. Slowly, your hand started to stroke its head to which the beast let out a content grumble and leaned into your touch. Completely stunned, all you could do was continue petting it. The bear lowered its head and let it rest in your lap, the warmth emitting from it surprisingly comforting. The mammal’s big black eyes started to blink slower, its entire body seeming to relax. You however, still felt a bit on edge. It started to nudge your hand with its nose, ‘This is it, I’m going to lose a hand now!’ you thought, expecting to get bitten. However, to your surprise all it did was give your palm a few licks, as if thanking you. It stood back up with a grunt and started to make it’s way towards the wooded area on your property.
After that exchange you had started leaving fruit and leftovers from your dinner on your front porch each evening. Every morning you’d wake up to the food gone and a little gift left in its place. The presents varied from pretty rocks and flowers to money and shiny jewelry you assumed the creature stole from someone. Scraping the remnants of sauce into the container you hummed along to a song playing on the radio. With leftover pasta in one hand and an array of fruits in the other, you made your way to your front door. Pushing the handle down with your elbow and kicking to door open with your foot, you prepare to place the food down onto the steps. A familiar set of black eyes startle you, almost making you drop everything you were holding. “Oh! You scared me.” The bear huffed out something that sounded similar to a laugh. “I got you food. Sit down.” It obliged and plopped down with a grunt. “I got you strawberries, I know you like those.” You say as you place everything down and pick up a strawberry, throwing it towards the bear. It catches the berry mid air and happily chomps down on it. “Bon appetite.” You grin at it and make your way back inside. Sparing the beast one last glance through the window, you turn off all the lights and make your way to bed.
The bear started showing up for dinner early more often, letting you feed and pet it. Tonight was no different, you fed the creature, talked to it pretending it understood you and bid it farewell. Loud claps of thunder awoke you from your sleep, looking out of your window the rain was pouring down like no tomorrow, wind wildly throwing around leaves and jostling trees. Immediately your mind jumped to your furry friend. Without a second thought you got up from bed, quickly shuffling into your slippers and pulling on a robe. With hurried steps you made your way downstairs, looking out onto your front porch you saw the same lump of brown fur laying outside your door, finding shelter from the rain under the gable roof. For a moment you hesitated, what could you even do? Would it be absurd to let the wild animal into your home? It definitely would be. So, you unlocked your front door and opened it. A gust of wind immediately hit you in the face, carrying rain water with it. Not far from your house, a bolt of thunder struck the ground, echoing loudly and flashing before your eyes. The beast startled awake, looking around it shivered in fear. Trying to get it’s attention you yelled over the wind and thunder, flailing your arms around like an idiot. The ears on its head lightly perked up and it turned its head to face you. Large black eyes landed on your figure, watching as you beckoned it inside. Without a hint of uncertainty the creature got up and started walking towards you. Reaching around in the dark and running your hand along the wall, you found the light switch and turned it on. The second your friend entered the house you shut the door, sighing as the storm’s noises faded into a mere hum.
“Wait here.” You instructed and quickly made your may to the bathroom, taking two large towels and scurrying back to the entrance. Unfolding the fabric, you draped it over the bear and got to work with drying it off to the best of your abilities. When you got to its head, you became more gentle. Gingerly rubbing out the moisture from its ears and cheeks, you looked into its eyes. They held a warmth you couldn’t explain, a sort of gratitude no regular bear could express. Its large snout twitched and it blinked up at you slowly. “You’re such a cutie.” You said softly and wiped its forehead. It let out a grunt and looked away as if it were embarrassed. “Come, you can sleep on my rug.” You said and started making your way toward the living room. Heavy footsteps followed behind you, the old wooden floor of your house creaking underneath its weight. “Sleep here, just don’t break anything please.” You told the beast with a small smile and bid it goodnight.
Sounds of birds chirping and the soft howl of the wind woke you up. Sitting up in bed you yawned, stretching your arms out above your head and twisting your torso around to release tension. Your feet made contact with the cold floor of your bedroom, sluggishly getting up to open your window. You leaned outside and took in a big breath of fresh air, the smell of rain still present in the morning chill. The peaceful moment was cut short by loud clanking coming from downstairs followed by a thump. Startled, you quickly made your way towards the source of the noise. Expecting to find the bear you’ve come to know as your friend, you’re alarmed to see a fully grown man standing in your kitchen with all of your pots and pans spilled onto the ground. You quickly grab one of your kitchen knives and firmly hold it towards the intruder. “Who the hell are you and what are you doing in my house?” You ask calmly. The man’s eyes widen and he puts his hands up. “Uhm uhh...” He mumbles, clearly taken aback. “I’m Namjoon.” He says and raises a brow, sounding more like a question than a statement. “How did you get in?” You question, tilting your head up and straightening your posture, trying your best to intimidate him. “You let me in last night.” His response takes you off guard, before you can reply to it his hand goes up to his head and he points at a pair of brow ears you hadn’t noticed before. That’s when it clicks. The large grizzly bear you had befriended wasn’t entirely a bear after all. Everything made sense now.
“Why did you steal from me?” The sentence flies out of your mouth before you can think about it. “Uhm, I was hungry.” The man replies, his ears drooping and his arms coming back down to his sides. You soften at his words knowing he never meant any harm. Putting the knife back you crouch down to pick up all the pots, he follows suit and the two of you quietly clean up. “So you say your name is Namjoon?” You asked as you began to gather ingredients for breakfast. “Yes.” He responded with a nod of his head. “I’m (Y/N), it’s nice to officially meet you.” You gave a small smile which he returned, adorable dimples appearing on his face. “Would you like some breakfast?” You asked as you rummaged around the kitchen. “Yes!” He responded eagerly to which you chuckled. After a beat of silence he spoke up again. “I’ve been thinking…” You let out a hum, encouraging him to continue. “You’ve kept me fed for so long now and I’ve done pretty much nothing in return. Let me help you with all your farm work to pay off my debt.” He said in a low voice. “You have no debt Namjoon.” You responded and looked at him over your shoulder. “However, a helping hand is always welcome here.” You started cracking eggs into a bowl. “Plus it would be nice to have someone around to talk to, y’know to keep me company.” You said as you started whisking the eggs. “You’ll let me stay?” He asked in disbelief, his voice full of hope. “I don’t see why not, you don’t look very weak and that’s certainly a plus.” You stated as you looked him up and down, giving a playful wink. His eyes winded a bit, but he didn’t comment on it.
After eating together you had decided to give him a proper tour of the property. He seemed particularly interested in your garden and your sculpting workshop. Once you showed him everything you began doing chores together, occasionally chatting and getting to know each other more. You had found out he was a stray hybrid, living on the streets for three years now. He had tried hitch hiking from one town to another about four months ago, when he suddenly got weird vibes from the truck driver he was traveling with. Not wanting to risk anything he ran away once they had pulled into a gas station, never looking back. After wandering through the woods for ages he came across the fence of your estate. At first he wasn’t going to cross it, scared someone would hunt him down and kill him if he entered private property. However, once he had smelled the pie you were baking his hunger got the better of him and he jumped the barrier. Realizing you were a stable source of food he continued to sneak around and eventually ended up here with you. Feeling grave pity for him you decided in that moment that it was your mission to help repair this man and give him the comfortable and fulfilling life he never got the chance to experience. He also told you about some of his friends who were stray hybrids as well, hoping to reunite with them one day. Apparently there were six of them, seven including Namjoon. They helped each other survive when no one else would.
After a long hard day of labor, the two of you came back to the farmhouse. You gave him some of your old oversized clothes and pointed him to your bathroom. He took his first proper shower in a while, enjoying using all of your different products and being pampered. Whilst he took care of his hygiene you got busy with making dinner. As you were grabbing all the ingredients you needed from the refrigerator, you noticed the vanilla tarts you had made the day before. Debating on serving them as dessert your eyes landed on the last couple of strawberries you managed to salvage from your garden, seemingly the bear’s favorite kind of berry to steal while you weren’t looking. Lighting up at the idea of combining the two foods for your friend to enjoy, you giddily got to work with dinner, the idea of surprising Namjoon lingering in your mind the entire time. Once he came out of the bathroom your eyes raked his form. Admiring how the large clothes fitted his frame and the way he did his best to dry his damp hair and ears with a towel. It only now dawned on you how handsome he was, this being the first time you truly took a moment to observe him since you initially saw his human form. His eyes caught yours, before you could get lost in their dark color you cleared your throat. “You hungry? I’m almost done with making dinner.” You asked and quickly started stirring the pot of sauce you were making. “I’m starving. Need any help?” He replied to which you instructed him to set the table.
The meal was fairly quiet, both of you lost in your own thoughts. When both of your plates were empty and your bellies almost entirely full, he was about to get up from the table. “Not so fast!” You said with a small smile. “I’m not going anywhere, I swear I was gonna help you clean up!” He replied briskly to which you laughed at him. He tilted his head in confusion, still thinking you were trying to scold him for bad manners. “There’s desert.” You said, your smile widening. His eyes lit up and his ears perked up. You could hear clothes shuffling, but he wasn’t moving an inch. That’s when you realized his tail small was wagging underneath his shirt. Trying to bite down your smile, you served the tarts on a plate with your strawberries. His nose moved as he sniffed the air, clearly eager for the treat. “What is it?” He asked in wonder, pointing at the baked good. “It’s a vanilla tart, try it.” You responded, handing him a fork. He eagerly dug in. Once he tasted it he started nodding his head vigorously, a close lipped smile spreading on his face. “You like it?” You asked. “Mhm!” He almost purred out, his taste buds not used to such delicate dishes. “Have a strawberry, I know you like those. Plus it goes well with the vanilla.” You picked up one of the red berries, thoughtlessly bringing it up to his lips. He shyly opened his jaws, holding eye contact as you inserted it into his mouth. His lips closed around it, faintly brushing your finger tips as you pulled your hand away. He slowly chewed, still looking at you. “Good?” You inquired, he leisurely swallowed. “So good.”
Namjoon had been living with you for a few months now. He had started stealing from your garden during last year’s spring and you let him into your home around summer time. It was now late January, your entire property covered in a blanket of crystal white snow. During this time of year you never have much work around the garden, more so focusing on taking care of all of your animals, letting yourself be consumed by reading and sculpting more often than not. “Namu, we’re running out of firewood, we should go chop up some more before it gets dark out.” You said as you poked around the fire you created in the fireplace, not realizing the nickname that slipped from your mouth. “Namu?” He questioned, testing it out on his tongue. “Hm, Namu. I like it.” He looked up in thought, lowering the book he was reading onto his lap. “Wait what was the question?” He suddenly sat up straighter, realizing you said something he didn’t quite comprehend. “I didn’t ask you a question, I said we needed to go get more firewood before it gets dark out.” You plopped down onto your butt from the crouch you were in a moment ago, chuckling at the bear hybrid. He watched you closely, playing with one of the pages of the open book sitting on his thigh. You leaned back on your palms and raised an eyebrow at him, awaiting his response. “Oh, yeah sure. You wanna go now or…?” He broke the eye contact, looking around at nothing in particular. “Yeah, let’s go.” You got up and dusted your hands off, walking up to where he was sitting on the sofa you extended an arm, helping him get up. The two of you got to work with preparing the firewood, Namjoon doing most of the heavy lifting. When you finished with it he turned into his bear form, stating that it’s easier to stay warm that way. He laid on his side on the floor, you leaning against him and petting his soft fur. It was to reserve heat you told yourselves, not being able to admit that the soft touches served as more than just a source of physical warmth.
One night you laid in your bed, covered in heaps of blankets trying to warm your body up, but it just wasn’t working. No matter how many layers of fabric you put onto your body you were still freezing. You crawled out of bed, shivering as the cold air in your room hit your whole body. Shuffling around in the dark for your slippers and robe, you hazily pulled them both on and made your way to the guest room down the hall. Lifting your fist up to the door you softly knocked, a sleepy grumble could be heard from the other side. Taking it as a sign to come in you pushed the door open. “Namu, I can’t sleep from the cold. Can I come sleep in your bed?” You quietly said into the darkness. The lump in the middle of the bed grumbled something, his arm extending and lifting the duvet he was under. You eagerly entered the room and took off your robe and slippers, shimmying into the bed. His arm wrapped around your waist and he pulled you into his warm chest. Finally heating up, you let your body relax into his embrace, letting sleep take over.
Following that night it became a routine to share a bed, the excuse still being the need for warmth. Namjoon had especially grown accustomed to holding you in his sleep. So much so that one afternoon when you went to a nearby town to buy some necessities, he decided to take a nap. He couldn’t find a comfortable position if his life depended on it. Tossing and turning in his bed, he realized his arms felt too empty. He tried hugging one of his pillows, but it wasn’t enough. Huffing in annoyance he decided to go sleep in your bed, the thought of your scent enveloping him made his tail wag immediately. He walked over to your room, plopping down onto your bed and nestling into your sheets. Burying his head into your pillow he inhaled your scent, letting out a satisfied hum at the familiar smell. Though he partially found the comfort he was seeking he still wasn’t fully pleased. He laid in your bed for what felt like hours, missing the way your hands would gently play with his hair and scratch behind his ears. The moment he heard your car pull up into the driveway he shot up from bed, running down the stairs and almost tripping over himself. You entered the house with arms full of bags, setting them down to take off your shoes and jacket. He didn’t even give you a moment to register his presence, immediately enveloping you into an embrace and starting to scent at your neck. “Namjoon, that tickles!” You giggled as his nose brushed against your sensitive skin. Upon hearing your voice he only hugged you tighter. “You okay?” You asked, placing your hand atop his head, suddenly worried by his behavior. “Yeah, I just missed you.” He mumbled into your shoulder. “Was I really gone for that long?” You questioned as you pulled away, trying to get a proper look at his face. Realizing how clingy he was acting, he became embarrassed. He let go of you and awkwardly cleared his throat. “Uhh no.” He said, scratching the back of his neck and looking away. “You can come with next time.” You stated, sensing his shame. The small ears atop his head perked up, a lazy grin spreading on his face. “Yes please.” He responded, a light pink forming on his cheeks.
Eventually the two of you unpacked all of the things you bought. The second you were done Namjoon tugged at your sleeve. Wordlessly, you let him pull you along to wherever he wanted to go. He brought you to your bedroom, laying you down onto your bed. “Sleep.” He mumbled, nosing at your throat and laying down onto your chest. Your hand instinctively rose to his head, scratching at his scalp lightly. You felt a low rumble coming from Namjoon, at first you thought he was just clearing his throat, but then it hit you. “Namu are you purring?” You asked. “Yeah.” He simply responded. “I didn’t know bears could purr.” You chuckled, pleasantly surprised by the discovery. “It doesn’t happen often, but it is possible.” He muttered, nuzzling further into your skin. You grabbed one of his hands, intertwining your fingers together. Slowly you brought it up to your face, placing a gentle peck onto his knuckles. His purring abruptly stopped. “Is this okay?” You asked, your heart dropping at the prospect of making him uncomfortable. He didn’t reply verbally, only placing a soft kiss onto the bare skin of your collarbone, his purrs resuming twice as loud.
220 notes · View notes
mykoreanlove · 2 months
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Say you forgive me
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You laced your fingers behind his neck as you were positioning yourself on his lap.
The studio was barely lit, slow music played in the background but you barely noticed.
Your whole focus was on him - in this moment it was only you and Joon.
You shared passionate kisses, tongues fighting for dominance. His big hands were on your sides helping you steady yourself as you were circling your hips in round motions.
Namjoon was a big guy in every aspect of his being. You felt him throbbing inside of you, stretching you out in the best way possible. You could have sworn your body was made for him specifically given the fact he knew which buttons to push every single time.
You felt his large hands roam your hot body - squeezing and stroking as if it was the first time. His plush lips landed on your throat, pampering you with sweet kisses while you moaned his name silently.
„God, y/n, I missed you so much.“
He continued pampering you with kisses and only stopped when he noticed your reaction.
You were chuckling and mumbling: „Joon, you didn’t miss me for me. You missed fucking me.“
He turned cold as ice and stopped his movements. Bewilderment on his beautiful features, he looked at you hurt.
„What?“
You looked at him, punishing him with your silence.
„Do you honestly believe that? Do you think that lowly of me?“
You let out a deep breath.
Namjoon wasn’t the easiest person to be with which resulted in you taking a break. He neglected you, always putting his artistic demeanors before you. He made you feel unimportant, like a nuisance and even worse - interchangeable.
You loved him but you loved yourself more, so you broke it off.
Thankfully, he came to his senses and fought for you - finally realizing how much he had neglected you.
Everything should be good by now, shouldn’t it?
You tried hard to be happy in love, to maintain this special bond you used to share but it wasn’t working.
The resentment ate you up from the inside. You hated him for treating you like that, yet you still wanted him by your side.
„Y/N? Talk to me please. Do you really think that’s true?“
You got up from his lap and walked to the other side of the room. Suddenly, his presence was suffocating you.
You walked to the window and looked outside - snow was falling heavily and clothing the city in white. You started to shiver as it was freezing. Instinctively you started to wonder if the love you shared with him was about to freeze as well.
You felt his strong arms around you as he was hugging you from behind.
„You’re cold“, he mumbled and hugged you tighter.
His touch made you tense up which he undoubtedly noticed. „I am sorry, y/n. I didn’t realize how badly I hurt you. I didn’t realize how I made you feel.“
His voice was sincere, his words carefully chosen. You wanted to turn around and face him but he held you in place.
„Don’t. I want you to listen to me first. I wanted to be in a relationship with you, but I kept acting like I was single. And I made it all about me. I am sorry I neglected you. I can’t stand the thought of you being mad at me. What you said earlier really pissed me off. But I guess I deserved that. I really want this to work - I wanna spend my life with you y/n. Do you?“
You turned around and faced him - his eyes were teary and sincere. „I really want that too“, you whispered.
Namjoon took your hands into his: „If that’s true then I need you to forgive me. I need you to let go of the past, baby.“
Could you do that though?
310 notes · View notes
eoieopda · 1 year
Text
lacuna (knj)
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lacuna (n): a blank space, a missing part
In his twenty-eight years, Kim Namjoon had made countless mistakes. Most of them were insignificant and could be shoved easily enough into the back corner of his mind. The worst of them were all tied for first place, keeping him up at night.
Loving you, losing you, and now – picking up the phone. 
Pairing: Ex!Kim Namjoon x Fem!Reader Type: One-Shot (Angst, Smut - 18+ or else.) Word Count: Like, 7K (?!) Content: ex-boyfriend au; exes to something?; literally so much angst; yearning; pov switches; oral sex (f receiving); unprotected sex; p in v penetration; cursing; texts from Yoongi. A/N: For reasons unknown, I decided to break my own heart today! The lyrics you'll see below are from "Sooner" by The Low Blow. There's also a reference to one of my favorite tv shows at the end - did you catch it? (1/9/23) The sequel, Redamancy, is finally here! (3/17/23) There is now a playlist 🥲
Sitting cross-legged on the rug, your weary, unfocused eyes stared somewhere in the vicinity of Min Yoongi. Shrouded all in black, you nearly assumed he was your sleep paralysis demon, hunched over his keyboard with his eyes narrowed in thought – but you hadn’t slept much at all lately. Not with your deadline looming overhead like the sword of Damocles. 
He relayed what was already looping through your brain. “It’s missing something.” 
You scrubbed your hands over your face, too burnt out to care if your foundation stayed where it was supposed to. “I know,” was all you said, though it wasn’t all you were thinking. Listening to this demo – this crushing song about love lost – you knew what was missing.
Or rather, who. 
Once again reading your mind, Yoongi spoke with a wary sigh. This time, he said the quiet part out loud. “Listen, I know that on a personal level, this is a terrible idea. But if you really want this track to ache –” 
“I’ll call him.” 
Yoongi turned to look at you over his shoulder. He, like you, hadn’t slept in over twenty-four hours; but his surprise still managed to crack through an otherwise impassive expression.
“You sure you want to be the one?” His frown was microscopic, but it was there and it bruised. “I have to hit him up, anyway, so I can handle this for you.” 
You’d never told him – or any of your friends, come to think of it – the details of your whatever it was with Namjoon. You couldn’t call it a breakup; that would necessitate a relationship. You couldn’t comfortably assign that word to this indescribable something.
But maybe that’s precisely why it hurt to breathe when you thought too hard about it. Maybe the thing that burned in your lungs was the fact that whatever it was wasn’t much of anything at all. 
The universally known narrative was that you met Kim Namjoon at a release party two years prior. After years of putting out extended plays, he was dropping his highly anticipated, full-length masterpiece.
That’s what your label called it; that’s what the press called it; but you couldn’t agree. That word wasn’t heavy enough – it didn’t give due credit to the pieces of himself he broke down and buried within those twelve tracks. You felt seen when you heard it. When you saw him, it was game over. 
As the story goes, you went home with him that night. While true, it was the tiniest fragment sitting sharp at the tip of an iceberg. The rest was an ill-equipped ship, sailing in slow-motion through the dark. 
He'd spent the entirety of his celebration focused on you. What you thought; what you wanted for yourself; what made that tipsy, uninhibited giggle come flying out of your chest. And then, holding his hand like it’d been tailor-made for yours, you followed his lead out of there while confused partygoers murmured in your wake. 
He fucked you like he knew you – on a cellular level – and he looked at you like you were all there was. You’d spent the entirety of the following day there, draped over him or nestled underneath him. You were never not touching in some way – in the little interludes of sleep; while cooking a breakfast too big for the two of you alone; on every surface of his apartment. 
He changed your life in those twenty-four hours, but not enough for it to stick. 
You’d spent as much time with him as you could in the year afterward, until your twin ambitions sent you both rocketing in other directions. Your various obligations never allowed you to be in the same place for long; and when they did, it was over too soon. No amount of time would ever feel like enough, but half a day, here and there, felt like a cosmic joke.
Like the universe was punishing you for wanting everything, all at once. 
Eventually, you came to a fork in the road. His career, though international, was rooted in Korea – home. Yours took you to Los Angeles, to a vastly different time zone, and a schedule that refused to make space. And you tried, but when it came down to choosing – idling together or racing forward alone – your respective dreams were so heavy that they tipped the scales.  
Neither of you could blame the other. After all, you’d both made the same decision. There was some small comfort in knowing that he understood you. That consolation couldn’t keep you warm at night when you’d instinctively reach out and find half of your bed still empty.
It would’ve been so much easier to live without him if there was some horrible betrayal to pin it all on, but he was as perfect when you lost him as he was when you found him. 
Shaky legs pushed you off the ground. Without meaning to, you groaned as your body returned to its regularly scheduled programming. Yoongi simply muttered, “Same,” as he made additional adjustments in his editing software.
You affectionally touched your knuckles to his shoulder as you passed by, though you quickly realized this gesture wasn’t made to comfort him. 
You shut the door softly behind you and headed up the hallway. Having kicked off and subsequently lost your shoes several hours ago, you padded in socked feet across the hardwood. The pattern – the various evolutions of Eevee – clashed so blatantly with the extravagance around you. Glancing down, you chuckled. At least some parts of you were still recognizable. 
The door to the stairwell creaked as you pushed it open and ducked inside. No longer camped out in the soundproof studio, you could hear the smattering of raindrops as they pummeled the exterior walls of the building. Somewhere between a drum roll and machine gun fire, you couldn’t figure out if the noise emphasized or relieved your anxiety. 
Gently, you lowered yourself down on a step halfway up the flight. As you stared down at your phone, your knee bounced of its own volition.
For once, you were thankful for the seventeen-hour time difference. This was the kind of call you needed to make at midnight, but one you didn’t want him receiving at midnight. It felt so much safer in daylight.
At least one of you had eyes on the sun. 
You’d deleted his number from your phone months ago because you thought it might help you let go. It didn’t. And to make matters worse, you still knew it by heart. As you typed it out easily, you wished this realization surprised you. You also wished that you’d catch him at a bad time, so you could simply leave a message. 
You’d never been lucky, though, had you?
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Namjoon was half-asleep at a café table when the vibration of his phone against the wrought metal snapped him out of it. In his under-caffeinated daze, he couldn’t determine what that unbearable grinding noise was.
He could, however, see the way the elderly woman nearby was scowling at him. He furrowed his brows and blinked back at her; silently asking what the fuck her problem was. Just as silently, she pointed an angry, wrinkled finger to his tabletop. 
By the time his brain kicked into gear, he was too late. He picked up his now-quiet phone and nearly dropped it in an instant when he saw your name tied to a missed call.
He didn’t think twice before returning it – he should have – having figured there was only one way to know if he was truly hallucinating. You picked up immediately in a voice so you that he couldn’t have imagined it. He knew because he'd already tried.
“Hey.” 
People who didn’t know you often mistook the natural rasp of your voice for tiredness, but he did know you. You were beyond exhausted, more so than the last time he’d heard from you. Five months and twenty-one days ago.
This sounded like another all-nighter; like you got so consumed in creating that you couldn’t sleep until you finished. Remembering you like this opened a black hole in his chest – all this fondness with nowhere to go, collapsing in on itself, pulling.
What kind of masochist was he, voluntarily subjecting himself to this conversation? 
“Hey,” He croaked. Even his voice didn't know what to do. 
He heard shuffling on your end. You always pinned your phone between your right ear and shoulder to start — he immediately recognized the sound of your hair against the receiver when you switched it to your left side. Vanilla and honey flooded his nose despite the thousands of miles that separated him from the scent of your shampoo. 
There were a thousand questions spinning dizzy in his mind, but he couldn’t untangle them to spit one out. The longer you both remained quiet, the worse it got – and the worse he felt for his silence. Even without seeing you, he knew that your brows were knitting together. He knew that quiet made you feel too exposed. 
Namjoon cleared his throat to speak at the same moment you asked, “How are you?” His words echoed, a half-second from being uttered in unison. 
He prayed to any god that he’d stop feeling so nervous. There was no reason to be, not with you. You were his comfort zone, his safe space and – oh. Past tense.
Presently, you were – what, exactly? Could he call you an “ex” if you’d never had a title? It all felt too juvenile, hearing people whisper about his girlfriend. You were –fuck – You were home, and now his house was haunted.
A ghost. 
“I’ve been good,” he said quickly, planting a hollow smile on his face that wouldn’t have convinced you if you were there. Liar, liar, liar. “Busy. You sound –” 
“Awful?”
“– like you’ve been working all night.” 
He heard a sheepish chuckle and his clumsy, thudding heart went flying off into the void.
“That’s actually why I’m calling,” you admitted in a voice so tiny he nearly missed it, “And I wouldn’t be – I promise – if I could’ve bothered anyone else with this. This one, though… when I hear it in my head, I can’t imagine anyone –” 
“Say less.” 
It slipped out of him automatically. He couldn’t stop it. Now it was dangling there in dead air where he couldn’t reach it and shove it back down his throat. He must have said that to you a thousand times, giving you whatever you needed before you could even finish asking.
This was the first time he’d ever said it without punctuating it with a kiss to your forehead, though. And now, his equilibrium was off, like the staircase had one less step than he was expecting. 
When you finally broke the silence, he could’ve sworn he heard you sniffle, but he quickly kicked that thought back into the cage it escaped from. Your voice didn’t sound sad at all, so you couldn’t have been crying. Why would you be?
“I can have Yoongi send you what we have so far, lyrics too. If you’re interested, just let me know – verse, bridge, whatever you want.” 
“You’re with Yoongi?” 
It came out exactly as he hadn't intended – accusatory. It was no business of his who you spent time with, professionally or otherwise. And it didn’t even surprise him that Yoongi would stick around after the – whatever it was. All your shared friends stayed shared. His confusion was solely that Yoongi never mentioned working with you, let alone flying stateside to do so. 
Why hadn’t Yoongi said something? Did he assume Namjoon wouldn’t be interested in hearing about your project? Because he would - he kept up with all of your releases, even if it hurt. Was he scared that the mere mention of you would exacerbate the tailspin Namjoon was barely surviving?
Or was it something else? 
“Yeah, he got here a few days ago. I offered to send the vocals to him, but he said he wanted In-N-Out,” Your laugh, even under the weight of your sleepiness, still packed a punch. “Might be the longest trip anyone’s ever made for animal-style fries.” 
Namjoon felt like he was going to pass out, but for your sake, he tried to echo your laugh. “Sounds like he’s got his priorities in order, as usual.” 
That uncomfortable silence crawled back in and settled in the space between you. It never used to be like this. His mouth remained open as if his broken brain could think of a single thing to say. There were hours in every second that passed, but he didn’t hang up – and neither did you. 
“So, if I figure something out, I can shoot it back over –” 
You interrupted this time.
“No need,” You chirped. You must’ve sensed that his train of thought now consisted only of question marks because you dove right back in, “I’ll be in Seoul at the end of the month, so we can put all the pieces together then.” 
Please be speaking metaphorically. Please say – 
“I’ve gotta hop off now, but it was –” Your voice petered out at the end of your statement, and he didn’t know what to do within the pause.
What pleasantry would you settle on to end this conversation? Was it nice to hear from him, or did you also feel like you’d walked through the emotional equivalent of a car wash?  
It was heavy when you exhaled the amendment, hitting the ground with a thud that could’ve knocked him over.
It was torture, and it drop-kicked him into the abyss at full-speed. No light above, no hope below. A black hole that he kept selfishly refusing to close – all because he answered your call. 
“Thank you, Joonie.” 
Fuck. He was doomed.
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You spent a shocking percentage of your life on international flights. It was a privilege – you knew it – to travel to the extent that you did, but it was so lonely.
If you were flying, there were two justifications. The first was the most common – touring. You’d touch down in cities all over the world, stay for a few hours, and then you’d leave again as soon as you could blink.
Your interactions were limited, either one-sided conversations from a stage; or facilitated entirely by a local translator. Never truly connecting, missed phone calls and texts sent too late to get a response. The same stale conversations with the crew that had been stuck with you for months. 
The second was less common, and somehow even lonelier – visiting a home that was no longer yours. 
It always went the same way. You’d touch down at the Incheon International Airport in your home country and feel just as foreign as the tourists bustling around you. You’d gather a suitcase’s worth of belongings and try not to think about the fact that they – and everything else you owned – once lived there, too. You’d hit customs and then, as a reward, snag yourself some boba from the café on your way out the door. 
In all those trips, you’d never once hailed a cab because Namjoon was always waiting. You’d hear him before you saw him with how loud he kept his car’s stereo, but when you did finally lay eyes on him, you’d light up like a sparkler. He’d shower you with affection – publicly, despite his usually private nature – and swap out the luggage in your hands for some thoughtful surprise. Flowers, usually, after painstaking deliberation over the meaning he wanted to convey. 
Now, you stood on the sidewalk with your empty hand in the air. 
Shortly after settling into your cab, you fell asleep. The person who would have gently scolded you for taking this risk wasn’t there to do so. Instead, you woke up stiff and disoriented to the sound of your driver honking his horn. You quickly learned that he wasn’t honking at traffic; he was honking at you with a scowl on his face. 
“Time to go! Wake up – your stop!” 
He was speaking in English, so it took you a few moments to determine whether you were dreaming. Impatient, he honked again.
Did he think you were a tourist? Was he right?
Your cheeks burned with embarrassment as you threw the door open and hurled yourself out. You ran to the trunk, snatched your suitcase, and tried not to remember that you didn't used to have to do this part yourself.
Yoongi had the foresight to give you a spare keycard before leaving California, so you were able to get into his building quickly – before you were honked at again. Spoken to in English again, like this place had never been home.
You, belonging nowhere and to no one, kept yourself together until the elevator doors gave you some semblance of shelter. 
Alone, alone, alone, you cried so hard that your shoulders shook. The mirrored walls around you showed infinite versions of you, all pitiful like you were still that little girl who’d gotten separated from her parents at an amusement park. It was incredible how you felt smaller in that elevator than you did as a child.
And fuck, did that embarrassment make you cry even harder. 
Eventually, those doors would have to re-open, and you’d have to let yourself into Yoongi’s unoccupied penthouse just to wait for his return. You were so sick of walking into empty apartments and hearing nothing but your own footsteps. No warmth, no laughter, just a black hole of your own creation. 
You chose this, you reminded yourself. This is what you wanted, wasn’t it? You were so busy chasing broader horizons, you didn't notice that the sun had disappeared. If you’d known – really, truly known – what the fall would be like, would you have taken that leap of faith? No, you think, but you did and there’s no jumping back into the airplane once you’ve dived out of it.
Ding. 
There was a post-it note waiting for you on the inside of Yoongi’s door that you would’ve missed if you hadn’t taken so much time to shut it behind you. His handwriting was shockingly neat for someone who was always in a rush. His note told you that he’d be home in two hours, that there was food for you in the refrigerator, and that you should help yourself to whatever you needed. 
The sinkhole in your stomach wasn’t created by hunger, so you pushed that down to the bottom of your to-do list and dragged your luggage to the guest bedroom down the hall.
Every inch of his place was undeniably Yoongi – monochromatic and edgy, but still so confusingly inviting. His guest room was similar in style, but with more personalized touches than most visitors tended to expect. Framed photos of friends, and the collaborators he was most proud to work with.
Your eyes eventually found one of you, beaming brightly. 
It hurt to look, but you couldn’t tear your gaze away. It was taken in a photobooth at Kim Seokjin’s wedding last spring. You were sandwiched on a small bench seat between Yoongi and Namjoon.
The former, like you, was captured in the middle of a laugh - smiling at the camera with all teeth, eyes crinkled at the edges but still sparkling. The latter wasn’t looking at the camera at all – just you, like you were all there was. 
Forcing yourself to look away, you returned the frame to its place on the vanity and kept moving. Your primary instinct was to hurl yourself into the plush bed and never leave it. But you felt stale after spending so much time traveling, and you didn’t want to collapse into those beautiful sheets until you’d scrubbed the day off you. 
Shuffling off to the bathroom, you finally remembered to take your phone off ‘airplane mode.’ All at once, the floodgates opened. The onslaught of texts, emails, and voicemails was so overwhelming that your phone froze.
When the flurry stopped, you scanned through your various inboxes for anything that might require an immediate response. Finding nothing urgent, you were about to set your phone down when you saw an email from Namjoon, addressing both you and Yoongi.
His verse, you realized as you opened it. 
I think I lost you sooner than I wanted to  And I know you can't say the same  But I can't hate you for doing what you've gotta do  Cause I'm just in bed sleeping through the pain  Do you see wasted potential when you look at me?  Of what we could be if it wasn't like this  I know you asked me not to try and change myself  But when I was with you, I felt fixed 
It took everything you had not to drop to your knees.
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Namjoon was an incredible liar.
He didn’t utilize the skill often – in fact, he was usually too honest – but when he did, he could get himself out of any unwanted scenario.
In the distant past, he’d slip out of obligations made by his label to stay home in bed with you. It worked every single time. Instead of putting on some over-priced suit, wasting his breath swapping empty pleasantries with industry tools; he’d be hooking his arms around your quivering thighs, pinning you to his face as he fucked you with his tongue. 
In the present, he lied again. 
Yoongi asked, “How did it feel to hear from her again?” 
“To be honest,” Namjoon started, knowing full well that nothing he said next would be, “That shit’s behind me, man. I was surprised her number was still in my contacts, you know? She’s been a non-factor for a minute.” 
Yoongi rolled his eyes, “With the number of girls you’ve gone through in the meantime, I imagine it gets hard to keep track.” 
Hook, line, sinker. 
Namjoon offered a smirk and a shrug in response, which Yoongi accepted without further comment. The relief of being believed did nothing to cure the nausea swirling in Namjoon’s stomach, though - not just for the cruelty of his lie, but for the way he’d acted since you left and stayed gone.  
He learned early on that it would take more than fucking someone he didn't know to keep warm, but knowing better didn’t mean he did better. None of them – and there were many – could pull him from the limbo he found himself in without you. There was an emptiness gnawing at his insides that he couldn’t fill, and the more he tried, the more it tore at him.
The only thing he succeeded at was becoming someone he didn’t recognize –someone he didn’t even like. 
Yoongi pulled into his parking garage and turned to Namjoon, staking him through the heart with words alone. “Well, the non-factor is upstairs, so try to remember her name when you see her.” 
Namjoon chuckled, but it didn’t sound anywhere close to convincing. There was a flicker of doubt in Yoongi’s quickly flexed eyebrow, though he kept any questions he may have had to himself. Without a word, they clambered out of the car, and they stayed quiet until they stepped into the elevator. 
“How has she been?” Namjoon asked more quietly than he meant to. Like someone who’s scared of the answer - or worse, being asked why he’s asking. Quickly diverting further inquiry, he provided clarification Yoongi hadn’t sought. “Sounded tired as fuck on the phone.” 
Yoongi glanced at Namjoon before selecting the button marked with his floor number. “You know how she is,” He hummed. 
That one hurt. He knew how you were – past tense.
Except for that one phone call, he hadn’t heard your voice in months. He hadn’t seen you for even longer than that. Your number hadn’t changed, but for all he knew, everything else could have. All he had now was his memory’s pale imitation of you, always in sight but never within reach.
A ghost that disappeared into the walls before he could get too close. 
When the elevator door opened, Namjoon was fighting between running forward and running away. Incapable of doing either, it was Yoongi’s light punch on his bicep that prompted his feet to move. Namjoon trudged along after him until Yoongi stopped short with a groan. 
“The fuck?” Namjoon coughed as he collided with Yoongi’s back. “Don’t tell me you’re already winded, dude. I’m not giving your old ass a piggy-back ride.” 
The scowl he received could’ve scorched the Earth.  
“I forgot my fucking phone in the car.” Yoongi tossed his apartment key at Namjoon. It thudded against his unsuspecting chest only to be caught on the rebound.
Then, Yoongi pointed at the door. “Go play nice and figure out where we’re getting take-out from. I had a dream about bulgogi last night that was borderline sexual, so keep that in mind.” 
Namjoon’s face scrunched up. “I’ll be trying my best to keep it out, so thanks for that.”  
Yoongi had already turned around, waving a dismissive hand as he stalked off. 
As soon as Namjoon heard the elevator doors close, his phone chirped in his pocket and caught him off guard. He glanced down to find a text from Yoongi – who was, apparently, also a liar. 
Yoongi [18:19 PM]: fyi you always say “to be honest” when you’re about to say some bullshit Yoongi [18:19 PM]: "non-factor" my asssssss
Namjoon grimaced and shoved his phone back into his pocket before walking to Yoongi’s door with his heart in his throat.
Clearly, Yoongi wanted Najmoon to fix things with you. He’d crafted some false narrative to get himself out of there, to give Namjoon the time and space to do it. But there wasn’t a single fucking thing he could say to rebuild the bridge you’d both demolished together.
That is, if you even wanted him to try.
After unlocking the door, he froze. A full minute passed before his hand received his brain’s signal to turn the knob, and even then, his feet felt as if they were encased in concrete. If hearing your voice made him spiral, he was terrified of what the sight of you might do.
More than anything, he was scared to see how you looked at him – and he didn’t know what reaction he wanted. If you lit up the way you used to, it might kill him. If you had no reaction at all, it would definitely kill him. 
He would’ve stalled at that threshold all night if you didn’t appear in the hallway, straight ahead. You froze like a deer in headlights, one hand still on the door you’d exited from. Eyes wide, lips parted ever so slightly in surprise.
He didn’t notice the red rims around your eyes right away, but once he did, every cell in his body screamed at him to run to you, to hold you.
But he didn’t.
Touching you now only to lose you again tomorrow - well, that was a scab he couldn’t rip off again. There was only scar tissue where his heart used to be.
“Hey,” You smiled so sweetly when you saw him, but it didn’t reach your eyes. Those fucking eyes! He’d give up everything he had to erase the sadness swimming behind them, threatening to spill out. 
Why were you still so far away?
You glanced around him, noting Yoongi’s absence, but didn’t ask where he was. “I was thinking we could get something from that –” 
The longer he stared at you, the more impossible it became to keep his distance. He couldn’t stand on that doorstep with you over there, trying so hard to look like you hadn’t been crying – like you weren’t about to start again. 
Fuck it.
If he was so dead-set on re-breaking his own heart, he’d do it with you in his arms.
“Joonie, is everything oka–” 
No, nothing was. Nothing had been, not for – fuck, are his eyes getting misty? - a long time. Not since you walked out of his apartment for the last time, and he let you. He couldn’t make any of it okay, but with you there now, he didn’t give a fuck about where you were before. 
Your eyes were as big as the moon when he finally reached you, blinking your surprise up at him.
Did you really think he had any other option than to hold you? Did you have any idea how you looking at him like this - bare-faced, freshly-showered, vulnerable - demanded his immediate affection?
It felt like coming home, sliding his fingers through your still-damp hair. He could’ve fallen to pieces when the familiar scent of your shampoo – vanilla and honey – crashed over him, but he didn’t. His lips collided with yours, and for the first time in a fucking year, he felt whole.
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You clung to him so desperately, you could’ve ripped a hole in his shirt. You couldn't care about that, though, because he kissed you and it was pure starlight. He kissed you hard, nicking your lip between his teeth until you opened your mouth against his.
You whimpered into him, drunk on the wet heat of his mouth, melting and falling and spinning and flying. You felt it all fall to the wayside, every second wasted without him, every text you didn’t send, every wrong turn that led you so far away. 
You didn't realize until you finally broke apart that the tears on your cheek weren’t exclusively yours. His gaze locked with yours, and all either of you could do was gasp for air - chests heaving, lips kissed swollen. If not for the arm around your back, pinning you against his chest, you would’ve floated away. But he had you, completely.  
Finally, you felt tethered. 
Your trembling hand settled on the side of his face. Fuck! That face. The warmth of his skin, the heights of his cheek bones, the gentle slope of his nose.
How many mornings did you wake up and miss it? How did you ever fall asleep without it nuzzled into the crook of your neck, without the whisper of warm breath on your skin?
You wanted to scream until the hurt left your chest, but you didn’t dare – not with that face so perfectly close to yours.  
He spoke first, “I’m so –” 
Your eyes followed your thumb as it swiped over his bottom lip, unearthing a quiver that burned you up inside. He was paralyzed by your touch. Enraptured. Leaving that clause hanging open in the air.
His eyes were wide with anticipation as he watched you, pupils dilating when you whispered. “Say less.” 
Faster than you could process, he lifted you off the ground as if you weighed nothing at all. Automatically, your legs locked behind his back; your lips re-captured his and his kiss never faltered as he carried you back into the guest room. Quickly and with a shocking display of control, he kicked the door closed without slamming it – or breaking it. 
Like so many times before, he laid you gently onto the mattress as if you were crafted from porcelain. And when he finally pulled away from you, you gazed up at him in awe.
This was one of the million reasons you couldn’t seem to let him go – the way his eyes softened when you were breathless underneath him, like you were the only thing in the universe worth looking at.
There were too many things to be said that neither of you could verbalize. You felt them all falling down around you like confetti, loose ends to be tied up later. He didn’t need to say a thing, so long as he kept looking at you like that. 
When his fingers landed at the hem of your shirt, you knew what came next. A dance you’d done a thousand times, you lifted your arms for him to pull it up and off. Still damp from your shower, the ends of your hair raised goosebumps as they chilled the bare skin of your back.  
He moved slowly and without breaking eye contact as he unbuttoned your jeans. Your zipper followed, then your jeans and underwear in tandem. The denim dragged so deliciously against your thighs as he slipped them down, down, down. As he tugged them off your ankles, you discarded your bra and tossed it aside. You were entirely bare and shivering with anticipation when his gaze found you again.
His shirt soon joined yours on the floor. Kneeling between your legs, his bare chest burned against your own as he kissed you for the third time. So many more were needed to make up for lost time, but you could feel how much of himself he poured into the kisses he’d credited you with so far. The taste of his mouth on yours was indescribably intoxicating after so much time apart. 
With you sufficiently distracted, the hands that cupped your face began to migrate. You felt so small under his touch, reduced to putty in the warm expanse of his palms. His face lowered too, freeing your mouth to moan as he placed open-mouthed kisses down the length of your neck.
Involuntarily, you gasped when his fingers pinched at one of your nipples. The curve of his smile impressed upon your throat as he suckled at the sensitive skin he found there, leaving clouds of indigo behind. 
As he marked you, he rolled and tweaked your nipples in turn. Your eyes fluttered shut and you keened while your head crashed back against the pillows, “That mouth – feels s-so fucking good.” Your fingers carded through his hair, fingernails scratching lightly against his scalp; his silence broke with a shuddered moan. 
“S’all I want, baby,” He hummed as his lips trailed down from your neck and beyond your collarbone. “To make you feel good.”  
You were trembling when he claimed one of your nipples with his mouth. Then he had the audacity to look up at you from under his lashes when he released it with a lewd pop, causing your back to arch against his chest with a gasp. There was a rumble from deep within him when your grip on his hair tightened, and the sound alone made you gush. 
“To taste you,” His tongue left a wet stripe above your navel as he continued his descent, large hands dipping beneath you to squeeze the doughy flesh of your ass. Shit - you would simply never recover from this. “To devour you until you melt in my mouth.” 
Another sharp tug at his hair, another guttural moan breaking free from your chest.
How often had you dreamed of this in your time apart? How many times did you try to remember how it felt when that timbre whispered sins against your naked body? Fuck. With those words alone, he had you on the brink. 
You whined when he pulled away from you; but it quickly turned into a gasp when he hooked his arms around your thighs and dragged you with him towards the end of the bed. Now kneeling on the floor, he ducked below your knees until they rested over the tops of his shoulders. 
Face so near to your aching core, he growled, and you felt it. “I missed this pussy –” He placed a wet kiss on your inner thigh, prompting you to clench them reflexively. “I missed the way your thighs squeeze around me while you fuck yourself against my tongue.” 
Shivering, slack-jawed, and stupid, you grabbed fistfuls of the comforter below you. He was so painfully close to your cunt and still so fucking far from you. You knew he could see how badly you craved him - you’d beg for his mouth if you had to. 
Of course, you didn’t have to - you never did.
Seconds before your impatience could drive you fully insane, he was on you, tongue flat against your cunt, dragging up against your slit. When the tip of his tongue flicked over your clit, you cried out with a buck of your hips. His grip on you tightened, pinning you flush against him as he teased you. 
“That it’s, baby. Good girl.” 
It’s a miracle either one of you could form words with how relentlessly he licked, nipped, and suckled on your throbbing cunt. All you could do was babble in response to his praise – until the tip of his tongue penetrated your weeping hole, and you screamed. 
A flurry of curse words spilled from your lips; his name sprinkled in between the obscenities. Fuck, you needed more. More, more, more. You extended your arm and reclaimed your grasp on his locks. Once you did, you began to grind yourself against his tongue until your abdominal muscles burned - you hadn’t utilized them to this extent since the last time.
His hand squeezed your thigh, goading you, encouraging you to use him the way you needed to. The pressure of his tongue increased with your pace. You had no control over the sounds you made; the breathless moans escaped you before you could think of trapping them. The coil was tightening, burning red-hot in the pit of your belly. 
So good, so good, so g – 
“Fuck!” 
One by one, your muscles tensed in quick succession until your body shook violently in his grip. Toes curling, back arching, head crashing backwards into the pillows, mewling. 
When you finally gathered the strength to re-open your bleary eyes, there were spots dotting the edges of your vision – and then there was Namjoon, fuck-drunk between your weakened knees, with a mixture of his saliva and your orgasm shining on his chin. 
Lustful eyes locked squarely on your flushed face; his tongue slid from between his swollen lips to attend to the mess you’d made of him. His panting rivaled yours, but unlike you, he was still capable of speech.
“I will never – ever – get tired of watching you come,” he sighed before wiping his mouth against the back of his hand, “You’re so fucking beautiful like this.” 
As he climbed back on top of you, he placed a chaste kiss on your sweaty forehead. “So vulnerable –” Then the tip of your nose. “So vocal –” Then, too briefly, your lips. “Perfect.” 
“Joon,” You murmured against his lips. His mouth curved into a smile at the nickname, which you used almost exclusively to win arguments, or to persuade him to do something. It worked every time. 
He nudged your nose with the tip of his as he tried to conceal his laugh. “Baby?” 
The fond look in his eyes was quickly covered by fluttering eyelids as your fingertips whispered down over his chest. They snapped open and bored into you as your fingers slid over the waistband of his joggers, tracing a feather-light trail over the bulge below. You felt his cock twitch autonomously against the warmth of your palm. 
“Shit,” He hissed through gritted teeth as you squeezed him. Eyes drifting shut once again; he rolled his hips to exacerbate the friction. His neck tensed, head thrown back, when you finally dipped under the elastic and took him into your hand. Skin to skin, burning up.
The next moan from his fawning mouth was something you hadn’t heard in his voice for months – your name. “I need you. Now.” 
In the few moments he pulled away to remove his pants, a chill crept in and settled where the weight of his body had just been.
There it is again, you thought, the feeling of having him and losing him.
When this night was over and he was gone from you, would he stay that way? Should you have gone this far, knowing nothing would be different in the daylight? 
You were blinking fast when he reclaimed the space above you. Something flickered in his eye as he assessed the look on your face, but he didn’t ask. Instead, he leaned down and kissed you so gently that you could’ve imagined it – but so completely that your brain could never have fabricated it. Not successfully, anyway.
You’d already tried. 
Breaking apart once more, he reached down and stroked himself slowly. His eyes never left yours. You both held your breath as he slid into you, millimeter by millimeter, reminding your body – after all this time – how to take him. All of him, to the hilt, until you could finally exhale.
Stretched to accommodate his width, so fucking full, you saw a way out of the nothing that had you trapped like quicksand. It was him, always. Your safe haven.
Neither of you could speak once he began rolling his hips against you. The quiet was electrified by heavy breaths and whimpers. The wet heat of your cunt squelched as your walls enveloped him, just as unwilling to let him go as the rest of you.
Over and over, he grinded into you, dragging his length across your most sensitive places; hips swiveling slightly to the side as he pushed and pulled himself through you, the way he knew you liked it. 
Open mouth beside his ear, you keened and sighed, wordlessly informing him that you wouldn’t last much longer. He was perfectly attuned to your subconscious movements, and he responded to each of them without hesitation.
He’d never need to be reminded that the fingernails digging into his biceps meant faster, and the upward tilt of your jaw meant deeper. That when your eyebrows rose above your closed lids, you were seconds away from your release. 
He remembered exactly how to fuck you through your orgasm when it came – shallow, staccato thrusts that unraveled you further as you writhed against the sheets. The spot on your neck to nip at like some secret switch, praise dripping hot in your ear like honey.
“Such a good girl, squeezing me like this,” He panted, “Taking me so well – so fucking perfect for me, angel.” 
As soon as you crashed down through the atmosphere, his movements threatened to ricochet you right back into space. You keened helplessly with your half-numbed fingers gripping any part of him where they could find purchase.
“I c-can't stop -” You mewled, “How am I s-still c-coming?” 
His response didn’t come in the form of words. His lips collided with yours hard enough to clink teeth as he drove himself deeper and deeper and deeper. Sloppy, kiss-bitten lips laying claim; relentless in their mutual need for closeness. Your walls were still fluttering around him – was this your second orgasm or your third? - when he moaned into your mouth.
Every part of him tensed above, around, and inside you as the flood of his release filled every crevice of your cunt. 
Breathing ragged, his head fell into the crook of your shoulder. Considerate as ever, he tried so hard to keep his full weight off you, but his exhaustion undermined his efforts. You didn’t mind at all – you’d re-build your home there, staying forever between his body and that borrowed bed if you could. 
But you couldn’t, could you? If you felt empty before, how could you feel whole again after this? His name etched itself into your ribcage, and now your body would never re-acclimate to his absence.
Why did you do this to yourself? 
You squeezed your eyes shut tight when you felt tears prickling in their corners.  
Everything you felt for him – over the course of two years – came crashing down over you. You buried your face into his shoulder and tried your best to keep your crying to yourself.
You’d never get his scent off your body now. 
He could sense your shaking; it forced his heavy lids open. 
“I don’t know what to do with it,” you sniffled, silently begging yourself to stop. You felt yourself shrinking under his eye. It would only be a matter of time before you disappeared entirely.
His tone dripped with concern, serving only to deepen that infernal ache in the pit of your stomach. “With what?”  
“All the love I have for you. I don’t –” You sobbed, “I don’t know where to put it now.” 
His breath caught in his throat as if you’d punched him straight in the chest. If you listened hard enough, you might’ve heard his heart break. You could certainly feel it in the way he tensed in your arms.
When he moved off you, you feared the worst – that your incessant crying overflowed the bathtub, and your admission was the toaster thrown recklessly inside. But unlike the last time, he didn’t leave - and neither did you.
The mattress shifted as he claimed the space at your side - where he should have been all this time. Strong arms enveloped you as he turned to face you, and even though he held you, he couldn’t stop you from shattering.
For a while, he let you. Squeezed you hard, stroked your hair the way he used to, let you cry out all the poison that filled the spaces in the cavern of your chest.
And when you could finally breathe again, he kissed your forehead. “I’ll trade you for it.” 
(1/8/23): Check out the sequel, Redamancy, here.
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sunnebeam · 8 months
Text
before, after, forever.
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DRABBLE.
pairing: kim namjoon x reader
warnings: smut (minors do not interact), unprotected sex (bc of the time period but in today's day & age please use protection), knight au, slight mulan au, other warnings are withheld due to possible spoilers
masterlist + disclaimers.
note: ok ngl i'm not quite happy with how this turned out :( which makes me extra sad bc i was so excited to write this plot/trope 🥲 anyways i hope u guys still enjoy this cute lil knight!namjoon drabble. and as always, feedback & reviews are my lifesource <3
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The moon is full.
You first notice it as you're approaching the lake, its circled orb reflected on the water's rippled surface. You let the moonlight accompany you as you arrive at the lake farthest from the base to take a much needed bath.
You're sure everyone else is asleep by now, but still, habit makes you look around in caution before taking your clothes off. Your hands are shaky as you take the wrap off your chest but when it finally falls off, you forego covering your breasts with your hands as you hurriedly run to the water.
It's warm.
You thank your lucky stars that the water's warm enough. Quickly, you scrub your body, making sure to get all the dirt because you don't know when you'll be able to sneak away to bathe again.
It's when you're untangling the tie on your hair that you notice movement in the corner of your eye. Panicking, you open your mouth to scream but the culprit promptly steps into view, hands in the air to show no harm, the moonlight shining on his face.
It's Namjoon.
Your breath stops. You debate scrambling to put on your clothes or hiding deeper in the water to hide your secret. He ends up choosing for you instead, walking towards where your clothes are before speaking softly.
"Are you finished?" he asks. "Don't worry if you aren't. Don't rush on my account."
"It's hard not to rush when someone's watching me."
He smiles, dimples showing. "Better me than them," he says, hand picking up your chest wrap.
You freeze. And you're about to come up with an excuse when he just shushes you good-naturedly.
"Don't be scared. I won't tell anyone, I promise."
"How did you find out?" you ask.
He chuckles. "When you've been training as long as I have to look for the missing princess, you have to be able to look at a situation intuitively and spot anything suspicious."
"But why are you helping me? Why are you promising to keep it a secret?"
"I don't know why any woman would pretend to be a man but I can tell you have your reasons." He shrugs, before smiling cheekily at you, adding, "And I can also tell that you're practically in love with me—"
You choke.
"—and I can't have your admiration of me diminishing just because I can't keep a secret now, can I?"
What the—?
"I don't know what to say," you admit, marveling at how he hasn't changed one bit.
"You don't have to say anything. But I do have something to ask you."
You wait. After a few heartbeats, he finally asks.
"Can I join you?"
And that's how you found yourself stark naked in the middle of the lake with your fellow knight, your lips connected like you don't even need air, your hands pleasuring each other under the water.
"Are you ready for me?" he asks, his fingers toying with your clit causing you to moan.
You nod, and without further prompting, he slips inside you easily. And like you knew it would, it feels like home.
Does he know you've been ready for him for a long while? Does he know you've been waiting for this for the longest time? Does he know you've been dreaming of this for the longest nights?
He starts off rough, pressing his lips against your own to compensate for the intensity, but he doesn't need to.
You know he likes it rough. You like it, too, as long as it's with him.
Does he know that you already know he likes it hard and fast? Does he know that you already know what he feels like inside you?
You wrap your legs around his waist and meet his thrusts halfway.
You whimper at the sensations, head falling back in ecstasy. He muffles his groans, mindful of the fact that your companions back at the base might hear the two of you.
"Fuck, you're so tight," Namjoon mutters. "Are you close?"
Without waiting for your answer, he balances your weight on one hand and uses the other to play with your sensitive clit. You whine at the heightened pleasure but also at his action.
His mind might have forgotten, but his body still remembers.
You find yourself nearing your climax at the thought of his body moving and relying on muscle memory to get you off. When you begin creaming around his hard cock, he quickly pulls out to cum as well.
Both your hearts are beating insanely fast, and your breaths are erratic. You both take a moment to calm down, basking in the glow of the moonlight and listening to the peaceful sounds of the night.
You feel a hand on your cheek. Looking up, Namjoon looks blurry and it's only when his thumb brushes your cheek that you realize you're crying.
"What's wrong?" he asks.
Everything, you want to say.
But you can't. So you don't.
Because telling him that you're actually the missing princess will just end up confusing him. Because telling him that you were once star-crossed lovers will just end up hurting him.
Bscause telling him the truth will just end up killing him, literally and figuratively.
And he probably wouldn't even believe you.
After all, the story of an esteemed princess and a lowly knight falling in love, getting caught, and being punished – with the princess banished and the knight wiped of his memories – is certainly not for the faint of heart.
And besides, you aren't pretending to be a knight to trigger his memories. No, you're pretending to be a knight to make sure it never happens.
See, the thing about the royal family's ability to wipe out memories is that it comes with a side effect. If the victims end up recovering their memories, they'll be faced with an even worse fate.
Death.
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COPYRIGHT 2023. ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.
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bangtanfancamp · 1 year
Text
Oh Christmas Tree | KNJ
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∴ summary: you’re looking for a fresh start and a Christmas tree when you unintentionally stumble across the worlds most attractive dimples and the sweet, gigantic, bumbling man attached to them
Alt: Namjoon + a Christmas tree farm + his best friend’s girlfriend’s little sister = the best Yuletide he never saw coming
∴ masterlist
∴ part of the breakfast with bangtan series
∴ pairing: Kim Namjoon x female reader, guest appearances by cultivating a life with you Hoseok x his y/n
∴word count: 10.8k
∴ rating: mature, 18+
∴genre: fluff, strangers to lovers. slice of life, Christmas romance
∴warnings: flirting, woke adjacent Christmas tree banter? sexual tension, joon is a big man (we all know this), a few subtle pov shifts- but only at already marked breaks in the story beats (should be easy to follow. Hopefully), subtle daddy kink, joonie has big boobies and he likes boobies, what was meant to be really soft smut that got a little out of hand honestly
∴author’s note: This started as a little scribble in March of 2021 that only involved the scene of y/n and Namjoon bantering about Christmas trees. I’ve been neck deep in 30k+ monster fic drafts for months and I just wanted to write something quick & fluffy so here we are. This y/n is the sister Hoseok’s girlfriend visits in cultivating a life with you. The stories are totally independent of each other but technically- chronologically- this takes place two winters later. Not meant to be hallmark movie related. I honestly just love the idea of Namjoon in one of his tiny little beanies getting tongue tied in the snow while surrounded by Christmas trees. Enjoy! Please let me know if you like it, if you like :) also… this is not proofread yet. I stayed up all night writing this and didn’t sleep. So I’m gonna leave this here, crash, and come back later to edit and add my copious italics, as I do.
───────────────────────
“My gosh, are these Christmas trees in outer space?”
You’d spent the last hour and a half being squashed in the backseat of your sister’s Mini Cooper. Your knees were beginning to ache.
“Oh don’t be a grinch, silly. We’re almost there,” your sister twisted to smile back at you from her spot in the passenger seat.
Her pink mittened hand was happily resting on her boyfriend Hoseok’s slim thigh. He reached down to tap out the rhythm to “walking in a winter wonderland” across the back of her knuckles as she beamed back at you, and you felt a little bit of your irritation melt away. It was nice to see her so happy. They were sweet to each other. It was lovely for them, but it wouldn’t help straighten out the kink in your back.
Who takes a coupe to pick up a live Christmas tree?
Hoseok caught your eye in the rear view mirror and smiled in apology as you shifted. He was as nice as your sister, just as keen to accommodate, and as soft for her as you were, if not more. His car was in the shop and yours hadn’t arrived yet. You’d driven a u-haul here from three states away a week and a half ago, settling down to take root during a holiday season best celebrated in an established home like the smart planner you were (not).
But for once, you didn’t care. Or at least, you were learning not to.
You’d spent too much of your life stuck in places you didn’t even want to be, taking life too seriously. Spent too many of the last few years feeling stagnant and like you were running out of time all at once. So when the opportunity arose, you took the first chance you got to move here. To be closer to your sister, to be somewhere where the air felt lighter, where you could be whoever you wanted to be.
And today, you wanted to be the owner of a live Christmas tree.
Give yourself something to smile at in your studio that currently consisted of bare stucco walls and aesthetic cardboard box piles.
When you’d mentioned it over the phone, your sister had known just the place.
“It’s the cutest little Christmas tree farm! Me and hobi get our tree there every year! They even have a hot cocoa stand up front for you to sip on while you pick your tree out. It’s owned by the sweetest family. One of our friends works there too. Oh you have to meet him!”
Your sister had gushed it all in one breath.
“Have to?”
“Absolutely. Not even a question. Get dressed! Me and hobi’ll pick you up in 10!”
That was that. You’d bundled up to the best of your ability, (Your wardrobe was not prepared for how chilly the winters got up here) and twenty minutes later, your sister and a blushing Hoseok were waiting for you in the parking lot in their jolly little holiday mobile.
Your sister had added reindeer antlers and a red nose to her Mini Cooper and jingle bells to the door handles. There was a set of white vinyl stickers with the silhouette of Santa’s sleigh and all nine reindeer plastered on the back window and a sprig of mistletoe-that she’d probably grown herself- twirling from the rear view mirror. Somehow she’d even gotten the horn to match the melody of “we wish you a merry Christmas.”
You’d have to ask how later.
The ride ended up being cozy enough. Now you were just eager to get out and get the feeling back in your toes. Hoseok tipped the driver's side seat forward for you to crawl out from the back. The second the icy wind slapped against your cheek you wondered why you thought going out in the cold would bring any sort of circulation back to your toes. You rolled your eyes at yourself and chuckled when you caught sight of the purplish tinge along Hoseok’s throat peeking out just over the edge of his chunky crocheted scarf. (Your sister probably made it for him. And now he was using it to hide her hickies. The little hoe.)
He felt your stare and blushed, his wide animated eyes becoming sheepish as he yanked his scarf up just the littlest bit higher.
So that was why that ten minute pickup time had stretched into twenty.
Good for the both of you.
Soon, the three of you were wandering through the farm. There was a section of freshly cut trees ready to take home near the front but rows and rows of trees still rooted to the ground off into the horizon, all dusted with this week’s newest burst of powdery snow. It was a magical thing to see really.
Your sister was happily tucked into Hoseok’s lithe side, one arm looped through his, the other hand cradling a hot cup of cocoa with a candy cane poking out of the lid. Nothing if not festive. You’d opted to save your cup for later. You liked the brisk air, and you liked both your hands being deeply plunged in the warmth of your fleece lined pockets.
“Cell reception is shit up here.” Hoseok piped up. “I tried to text Namjoon to see if he was working today but all I got back was the green text bubble of death.”
“Boo, Joonie’s the worst at charging his phone too. It’s probably dead,” your sister giggled.
“Guess I’m never gonna meet your jolly green giant, Hobes,” you bumped his elbow with yours.
“With the brain of archibald asparagus,” your sister added.
“Sexy brain, that man has,” Hoseok sighed with envy.
“Your brain is sexy too, babe.” Your sister tipped up on her toes to kiss Hoseok’s wind-chapped cheek.
“Not as sexy as his,” Hoseok nodded resolutely.
“Oh, what about when he wears his little wire rimmed professor glasses?”
“Too hot. He’d melt the snow,” Hoseok swooned.
“Goodness, are you in love with my sister or him?” You teased.
“Both,” Hoseok admitted, a little too sincerely, clutching at his heart over his oversized parka.
“I don’t blame him,” your sister nodded sagely. You quirked a brow at her and she simply shrugged, all innocence, zero guilt. “What? Don’t look at me like that. Trust me, it’ll make sense when you see him.”
“If I ever see him. I’m pretty sure he’s a myth.” Your skepticism came out with a snort and an opaque puff of air.
Geeze, it’s cold.
────────────────────────
At some point in the wandering, you got distracted watching a small child drag their parent by the wrist to the tree of their dreams. The scene was so wholesome and sweet. The little girl squealed with delight as a pair of squirrels skittered past them in chase, twining their way up her tree and darting down and away, ruffling soft powdery snow loose from the tree’s needles in their wake like a fairy sprinkling pixie dust.
The whole interaction was so idyllic that you’d stopped paying attention to where you were going and plowed directly into the broad back of what you were sure must be a bear. What else could it be? No man’s back was that broad, that’s for sure.
The force of it knocked you flat back on your bum, leaving you dazed in a little pile of crunchy snow and loose pine needles.
“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!”
The words came too fast, too rushed, and at sure as hell too deep of an octave to come from anyone you knew, man or bear included.
There was a massive olive green, gloved hand shoved in your face- apparently attached to whoever was apologizing so profusely. You grabbed on and let it hoist you up. Goddamn, whoever this was was strong. After flying backward just a few seconds ago, you were now flying forward, toppling directly into what seemed to be just as equally broad a chest as the back you had crashed into moments ago.
“Are you alright? I can’t believe I did that. Are you o-“
The rambling ocean wave of a voice stopped crashing over you the second you looked up and locked eyes with what you were sure was the most beautiful man you’d ever seen in person.
“Holy shit,” you muttered under your breath.
The man’s full lips seemed to gape as he looked at you.
Not necessarily in an objectionable way. It was more like, the tape in his brain had spun off the track and tangled itself up like an old cassette that needed help being wound back up again. It was like his thoughts were written all over his face. If you knew him better, you could have read them like a novel. For now, you knew one thing.
He was pretty when he was thinking.
Hell, he was pretty, period.
And two, he was solid as an ox.
“Are you okay? Are you hurt? Mr Yun’s gonna kill me if you’re hurt. I should have been paying more attention.” He patted down the sides of your ribs and torso like he was half expecting a bone to be jutting out.
“I’m okay. I’m good. i-“ am still holding his pecs, you realized.
What a Christmas miracle they were. Geeze. He had better boobs than you. You swallowed once then smiled up at him. “Do you, by any chance, work here?”
He blinked at you. There was snow on his eyelashes. His tiny dark green beanie wasn’t doing any good at shielding his face from the snow, but god did the color look good next to his golden skin.
“Um, yes, actually. I do. Again, I’m so sorry that I-“
“Shush, enough of that. You’re going to help me pick my tree.”
“I am?”
It was his turn to swallow.
“I mean, yes. Of course I am. Can. What are you looking for?”
He was nervous. So visibly nervous. You weren’t sure if it was because of you or if it was just his general disposition. Either way, you were hopelessly endeared by it. Pretty, bumbly, abominable snowman of a man. With great tits.
“Well, I came here in a Mini Cooper, so… whatever will fit on top of that, I guess.”
He blinked again, before he smiled- wide and gracious. His eyes crinkled at the edges and Jesus, Mary and Joseph.
His dimples.
How obscene.
“Sounds like a great place to start, to me.” He laughed for the first time. It was so boisterous and rich, you were sure he’d cause an avalanche.
The sound was as deep as winter, but soothing and warm. You already wanted to hear it again.
Oh boy. You really liked this one.
────────────────────────
“So what technically constitutes ‘ethically sourced’ when it comes to Christmas trees?” You looked wide-eyed up at Namjoon.
“Um… you know I… well, usually I-I would know the answer to that.”
“But right now, you don’t?”
“I mean, I can’t say that I do.” He shrugged ruefully.
“Despite currently being employed on a Christmas tree lot?” You arched a brow at him, a wry smile pulling at your lips.
“That does seem to be the case, yes.” His brows pinched at his own glum response.
“Are you new?” Mirth glittered in your eyes as you watched him.
“No, actually, I’ve been helping Mr. Yun since college… senior year of high school technically, actually.” Namjoon looked a bit lost in space as he wracked his brain for his qualifications.
“So you should have seniority around here?”
“Sort of ? It’s just , you know, mr. yun is a friend of my parents and he’s always been good to me so I always try to return the favor and help out every year, if I can.” He swallowed.
He wasn’t sure why he was so nervous. He literally talked to people for a living. He could sell a polar bear ice, for Pete’s sake. But every time he made eye contact with you, he was practically on the verge of forgetting his own name so this whole witty repartee thing was an absolute struggle in ways it absolutely should not be.
“Well, he’s very lucky to have you then. Even if you can’t tell me where this tree came from.” You chuckled.
“No, I that- that I can do. All our Douglas firs come from grey farms about two hours north of here. Again, super kind family. They’ve been doing this for generations, actually.”
He found himself affectionately gripping the top of the tree while you smiled up at him like you had a secret and he felt a new rush of sweat rise beneath the fold of his beanie.
“So locally sourced then.”
“Family owned.” He nodded.
“Well now, that’s a great start. You know more than you let on.” You tapped an index finger into the down of his puffy coat and he felt himself flush, wishing he actually could have felt that touch.
Every part of him felt like he was back in middle school right now. It had been ages since something this simple was this difficult for him. Trying to figure out how not to trip over his words while maintaining eye contact with the you and your the luminous smile really wasn’t working at all. He should have been better at this by now, he sighed. His thirteen year old self would have been ashamed to see how little progress he’d made in that department in a decade and a half.
“So, should I choose to re-home this lovely tree, do you know of anyone who could, say, strap it to the roof of my car for me?”
Your eyes were twinkling, face framed by the softly falling snow flurries that had started up again and Namjoon felt himself swallow.
“I- I would be happy to find-“
“There you are! Finally found you- Oh, hey bro! So you are working today!” A voice bright like tangy sweet lemonade interrupted Namjoon’s inelegant struggle.
“Hoseok?” Namjoon looked mystified at the pair of you as Hoseok clasped a mittened hand around your shoulder. “How do you two-“
“This is my girl’s sister, y/n, remember? I told you we were helping her move in last week.” He explained with a happy shrug.
“This is… you’re… wow. Hey. Nice to officially meet you.” Namjoon released the tree to dizzily shake your hand, trying his best to ignore your amusement at his manic behavior.
“So you’re the mysterious friend who was too busy to help with the u-haul unloading, huh?” You quirked a brow up at Namjoon. He looked a bit green around the gills as his snow frosted lashes fell away from your gaze.
“We were slammed here that day. If it makes you feel any better, I got so much pine sap all over me that I had to toss my favorite gloves away.”
“Tsk. Now why would that make me feel better?” You teased as something mischievous glinted in your eyes.
“Because my shitty friend status made me suffer?” Namjoon shrugged.
“Well, we weren’t friends yet,” you grinned. “But now that we are, I think it’s only right that you should come over when you’re off to help the three of us decorate my new locally sourced, freshly cut Christmas tree”
“Oh absolutely!“ Hoseok piped in. “You haven’t hung out in weeks- you have to come.”
His endearing smile beamed bright across his face in a way that was impossible to fight. Bright red bits of hair peaked out beneath his beanie as he grinned widely up at Namjoon, and Namjoon was too distracted by his openness to process his nerves at the invitation.
“I mean, I guess I… I mean I wouldn’t want to intrude on…”
“Nonsense,” Hoseok interrupted,” you’d only be making the party better! Y/n needs all the friends she can get anyway. Poor thing’s stuck hanging out with us all the time- she could use a few new faces in the rotation, right little sis?” He hip checked you, ruffling your hair with the hand slung over your shoulder.
“Not your little sis yet,” you countered, eyes full of challenge.
“Wait, Hobi, this Christmas are you gonna…” Namjoon twisted his left hand, the gesture caught vaguely somewhere between the Queens wave and the single ladies dance.
Hoseok pulled a nervous face, brows lifting and jaw tightening until his smile bared all his teeth, as he patted the chest of his puffer coat.
“I’ve been carrying it around for weeks actually. Can’t seem to find the right time.”
“Are you insane?” You swatted him. “You brought it with you here? What if you lose it in the snow, you dummy?!”
“Ow!” Hoseok rubbed his shoulder dramatically. “The little ones are always fighters.”
You rolled your eyes as Namjoon blushed for reasons beyond him. Maybe he didn’t need any more explanation than the fact that you were cute as hell and he liked seeing you laugh.
“Your sister would never hit me like that,” Hoseok huffed.
“Yeah, she doesn’t have to because she knows I’d do it for her. Now why on gods green earth is the ring just chilling in your pocket while you stroll through endless yards of nature??”
“I keep it with me in case there’s a moment that just feels right. I’ll already be ready, you know.”
Hoseok’s face was far away, dreamy.
Namjoon was happy for him, even if he wanted a little piece of his friend’s wonder for himself one day.
“I still think you should propose to her at home in your little jungle. You have to know how happy that would make her,” you asserted.
Namjoon thought back to his last visit to Hoseok’s apartment. The walls had almost been alive with the amount of trailing vines climbing toward the ceiling. It was otherworldly, serene, like an indoor garden. It would be a spectacular place to propose actually.
“I think she’s right. It would be pretty damn perfect, Hob.” Namjoon offered.
“Ooo, did you hear that?” Slipping out from under Hoseok’s slinky arm, you attached yourself to Namjoon’s bulky one. “He already knows I’m always right. The company you keep, Hobi. I like this one.”
You squeezed Namjoon’s bicep, and he swore he could feel the warmth of your touch through his puffer jacket. He knew his cheeks had to match Hoseok’s fire engine hair now.
“Hey, be sweet to him. He’s sensitive,” Hoseok tutted as he pinched Namjoon’s rosy face despite being swatted away by one Namjoon’s big hands.
“I… is this the tree you’re settled on y/n? If it is, I should start getting it wrapped for you.”
“Hoist it on the beige Mini Cooper in the back, eh Hulk?” Hoseok patted his unoccupied bicep, giving it a happy squeeze as he pushed past Namjoon. “Im off to find where my poison Ivy wandered off to again. Probably somewhere talking to the cedars.” He shook his head softly but gosh, there was nothing but fondness in his happily crinkled eyes. “You two don’t get up to anything too wild while I’m gone now, yeah? We haven’t even brought out the baileys and the eggnog yet. Save it for later - or I’ll be the one kissing Joonie under the mistletoe.”
Hoseok wiggled his fingers and brows in puppety unison as he vanished through the trees, leaving Namjoon alone with you once again.
“He’s quite the character isn’t he?” You chuckled.
“You have no idea.”
“He’s good to my sister though. I’ve never seen her so happy.”
“They’re pretty made for each other,” Namjoon nodded in assent as you sighed.
It wasn’t until he looked down to catch your expression that he realized you were still holding onto his arm. Jesus Christ of Nazareth, was he going to faint in a Christmas tree lot?
You looked up then, a soft giggle bubbling out of you when you saw whatever his distress was doing to his face, and squeezed his arm before walking a few snowy paces ahead.
“Come on, tiger. The quicker we take care of this, the quicker we can get out of the cold.”
Namjoon had never followed anyone faster in his life.
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Why had the three of you come in a compact car?
This was pure delusion.
The tree Namjoon had helped you pick loomed over the front windshield like something from whoville. Good thing you weren’t the one driving. Good luck with that visibility, Hobi.
You and your sister stood side by side, linked at the elbow while the two men tied the tree down to the roof of the car.
“Think we’ll tip over in a strong breeze?” You queried.
“I think we’ll tip over if anyone even looks at us funny,” your sister giggled.
Her laughter was contagious and soon you were both cackling uncontrollably as Hoseok and Namjoon secured your dr Seuss tree to the roof of her car. Namjoon looked back over his shoulder, making accidental eye contact with you. You let your gaze rove over his absurdly pretty face, eyes lingering around the high corners of his cheekbones and the doughy imprints of those audaciously sweet dimples of his.
“My god, just look at him,” you sighed. “It’s like heaven tried to make focaccia bread when they made his face and decided to stop two pokes in because it was already perfect.”
Your sister looked between you and Namjoon, chuckling when the giant of a man turned away bashfully, as if those big shoulders could make him disappear.
“I told you he was pretty,” she shrugged. “And you gave me your judgy eyebrows.”
“I was a fool,” you sighed again. “In my defense, I didn’t know there could be boys prettier than Hobi around here.”
“Wait til you meet the children. Jimin and Jungkook are so beyond anything you could even comprehend. Beautiful little whores.”
“There’s more?” Your brows shot up high.
“Oh and Taehyung! Taehyung will charm you right out of your coat. He’s the dangerous one. I can’t even make eye contact with him without stammering,” she shook her head in derision.
“Whew boy, what a winter we’re in for.” You rocked up on your toes with a whistle.
“Winter is a mercy. Seokjin’s shoulders in summer? Glory be.”
Lovingly, you squeezed her tighter into your side. “At least we have Yoongi on our side.”
“Oh, no ma’am, we do not. He’s the worst one!”
“Min Yoongi ?” You gasped. “No!”
“Yes! He’ll sneak right up on you out of nowhere just when you think you’re finally friends and keep your glass full of wine all night until you accidentally spill all your most embarrassing high school secrets,” she muttered.
“No,…not the pyramid.”
“Yes, the pyramid. And he’ll get it on tape too. Adorable little bastard. Don’t let that cute little gummy smile fool you. He’s ruthless.”
You don’t think you’ve ever heard your big sister curse before.
The pout on her face was too priceless not to laugh at so you did. The laughter was robust and full- it came straight from somewhere deep in your belly and pretty soon she was laughing too, hiding her face in the faux fur collar of your coat. The two of you clinging to each other as you cackled like wild children in the snow.
────────────────────────
Hoseok looked over the roof at the two of you and melted into an inordinately affectionate grin.
“You could just go ask her now and put yourself out of your misery, you know,” Namjoon chuckled to himself.
“Nah, she’s so happy right now. I’ll let them have their moment.”
Namjoon let himself study you.
The two of you looked so much alike yet so different. Your sister was all spun sugar and sweetness, quick as a dragonfly on the breeze. But you, well, he didn’t quite know how to put it into words. You were still sweet, but it was different. There was something more rich, a bit more solid about your aura. If your sister was candy floss, then his best guess - based on his limited interaction with you- was that you were salted caramel.
The thought had him pulling his bottom lip between his teeth. He wanted to know what else made up the pieces of you. He wanted to get off this shift so he could be in the same room as you. So he could be alone with you.
He wanted to get you under the mistletoe and taste those pretty lips of yours.
But of course, that meant he had to have a coherent conversation with you first.
“Hey, quit undressing my baby sister with your eyes,” Hoseok snapped.
Namjoon shook his head, rattled the stars out of his eyes.
“My bad. Sorry, man.”
“I’ll let it slide this time,” Hoseok huffed. “Hey, I think I’m getting good at this protective big brother thing. That was pretty convincing right ?” He beamed proudly.
“More than you know… hey, we should be good here.”
Namjoon patted the now secure tree, rustling a bit of soft snow loose from its branches.
“Then it’s time to get this baby back on the road!”
Hoseok slapped the chassis and the car jingled— jingled!
“I can’t believe you’re gonna marry a Christmas elf,” Namjoon snickered.
“Hey, you’re one to talk, Yukon Cornelius. You work at a damn tree farm. Don’t judge me. Besides, I’m sure you’ll be next. Y/n is just as bad as her sister.”
Namjoon stole another glance your way, his eyes darting away in a flash when he realized you were already watching him, something sultry glittering in your gaze that he tucked away in his pockets to think about later.
“Maybe being next wouldn’t be such a bad thing,” he smiled to himself.
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Before you could get off the tree lot, Namjoon was running back to the car, something small in his hands that you couldn’t make out.
You were crammed in the back seat between the extra boughs your sister had bought to turn into wreaths and garlands. All the evergreen scents made you feel like a new car air freshener. God. It was gonna be a long ride back to the city.
Namjoon knocked on the glass in a hurry, and you rolled the window down. What on earth was he-
“You never got your cocoa.”
“What?”
“You said you were gonna wait to nurse it on the ride home so I got… I got you cocoa.” His volume trailed as he handed the cup to you, like he was second guessing every action in his life that had brought him to this moment.
“Oh, I…” you didn’t know what to say. You didn’t trust yourself not to open your mouth and accidentally tell him you were already in love with him and did he know a guy who could get you both a marriage license by sundown.
“Kim Namjoon. You absolute sweetheart,” your sister gushed from the front seat.
Namjoon’s cheeks went from rosy from the cold to plum from embarrassment. You’d never wanted to kiss someone’s eyelashes before.
“Well, that’s all. I gotta get back. i-“
“Thank you,” you whispered, eyes flicking up from beneath your lashes to meet his.
“I…. Yeah. I.. I hope you like it.” His smile was wide, inebriated, giddy. You swore you could see the stars during the daylight.
“I’m sure I will. Six o clock. Tonight. You can come right?”
He nodded, bobbleheaded and boysish.
“Yeah. I’ll grab the address from Hobi.”
“Oh will you now?” Hoseok piped up from the front.
“Hobi, shut up or I will end you,” you threatened through your own teeth as he and your sister laughed at you.
“Tonight?” You called to Namjoon as Hoseok began to shift the car into gear.
“Tonight!” Namjoon shouted back, both his arms waving over head as the car pulled off and he shrank into something small in the distance.
Settling back in your seat, you brought the cup to your lips and breathed in the steamy liquid. You noticed a little black heart drawn in sharpie on the cup, remembered seeing a sharpie tucked behind one of Namjoon’s ears and smiled to yourself like you’d just been passed a note in eighth grade.
You looked up to see two sets of eyes watching you in the rear view.
“Oh god, eyes on the road mom and dad. This has nothing to do with you.”
Your sister giggled, “well I for one am very happy for both of you.”
Hoseok chimed in with a “right? They’re cute.”
God. What a pair of menaces.
You sank in your seat but couldn’t help but smile.
“He is cute, isn’t he?” You whispered into your cocoa cup.
Maybe this wouldn’t be such a long ride home after all.
────────────────────────
“Why did I let you make me think this was a good idea? I don’t even have any furniture! What, we’re gonna make that Goliath sit on boxes for a chair?”
You were frazzled. Namjoon had texted Hobi that he’d be at your place in half an hour. Suddenly the idea of that massive man being in your tiny apartment drinking eggnog out of a solo cup that you’re sure would look like a shot glass in his massive hands made no sense at all.
“First of all, this was your idea,” Hoseok chuckled,” so don’t pin this on me.”
“Traitor.” You whispered.
“But if it makes you nervous, I can shout out the boys to swing by.”
“What? How does that make any sense? Why would we add more people I have no place for? Come on now, use the brain in that pretty head, Hobi.” You rapped your knuckles against his temple as he laughed at you- laughed!
“ I am! It’ll make it feel less like a date. Less pressure to talk one on one there’s a little more of a crowd,” he shrugged like it was that easy. Maybe it was.
“Okay. Fine. Do it. But somebody’s gonna have to bring food cuz there’s nothing in that fridge but eggs and kombucha.”
“God, we need to feed you, little one.” Hobi frowned, concerned.
“Groceries are on tomorrow's to do list. I wasn’t expecting to feed a small army today. I was just gonna grab some take out once you and the missus went home.”
“And you still can. I’ll see if JK can snag something from work.”
A key jingled in the lock as your sister shimmied her way in the door, arms filled with Christmas decorations with a string of gold tinsel draped across her throat like a feather boa.
“I’m back! Hobi, baby, I texted you. Can you bring the other bin up?”
He pressed a kiss to her forehead and darted out the door.
“Holy mackerel, it’s gonna look like Santa’s workshop exploded in here.” You took in the sheer amount of tinsel, lights and decor your sister had managed to manhandle up the stairs.
“Oh stop you. They’re just extra decorations and props from the photography studio. I figured you can use what you like, and we’ll just put them back when the season’s over.” She shrugged.
“I’ll take free decorations that I don’t have to store any day.” You asserted with a grin. Peeling the sticky back off a command strip, you climbed up on a chair to hang the dang thing as close to the ceiling as you could reach. Your sister came behind you to spot you. No sense letting you break your neck before the guest of honor even got here.
“Most of our mini sessions are over anyway. Nobody should be trying to book their Christmas card photos after December 14th, and if they do, they deserve the Charlie Brown Christmas tree they get.”
It always tickled you when your sister tried to be matter of fact. You knew good and well she was too accommodating not to at least try to bend.
“Lay down the law, sis. Hey, hand me those string lights will you. Can you plug them in?”
The room burst into light in a cacophony of colors.
“Whew. Multi. Bold.”
“Sorry, I didn’t check if they were colorful or warm white first. Shoot.”
She looked so chagrined. It was so sweet. Here she was being so giving and thoughtful, and she really thought you were gonna have the nerve to be picky.
“Shush, you. They’ll look great. It’s kind of… cozy. Very vintage Christmas. Nostalgia chic,” you smiled, and she smiled with you, relieved.
“Hey, you don’t need to be nervous about Joonie.”
“I don’t?” You looked up at your sister through your lashes.
“He’s really a sweetheart.”
“I mean, I can tell that from space.” You smiled.
“Don’t be smart, you know what I mean, dummy.”
“Wait, which one am I ? Smart or dumb?” You laughed.
“Goofy. But I mean it. He’s such a good guy. His last relationship didn’t go so well,” the color of your sister’s voice changed then. “It was a long time ago. It was. I’m sure he hardly thinks about it anymore. It’s just, I think we’re all rooting for him to find someone who realizes just how lovely he is.”
Hobi chose just then to come clunking through the front door.
“Look who I found!”
Sure enough, all six foot something of Namjoon was right behind him, bashfully twisting a Santa hat between his nervous hands despite still wearing his little green beanie from the tree farm on his head.
Thirty minutes, my ass, you grumbled internally. But out loud you said : “Hey! You made it!”
He looked so big in your doorframe like that. Were his shoulders going to fit? Surely he was going to get stuck like Santa in a chimney flue.
“Looks like you guys got the tree up no problem.” He offered gently.
“Me and Hobi accessed our inner lumberjacks and got it done.” You flexed one bicep and Hoseok patted it like it was made of steel. You both giggled like the weirdos you were as Namjoon smiled softly, still hulking in your doorway like a vampire in need of an invite to cross the threshold.
“Come inside, you silly boy,” your sister tutted. “You’ve let half the winter in.” She tugged Namjoon’s sleeve as he ducked his head to come inside. God, you wanted to climb him like a tree.
He looked so nervous shucking his snow-caked boots off by your front door. It made you want to put him at ease.
“I can take your coat, and… whichever piece of headwear you’d prefer not to wear,” you eyed his double hat situation for the second time as he seemed to notice it for the first.
“Oh shoot. Am I still?” He snatched at his scalp and realized it was shrouded in green yarn. Pulling the beanie off, he inadvertently gave you a glimpse of his face framed by his thick head of tousled ebony hat hair. You weren’t sure if you wanted to climb up to fix it for him or pull him into your room and make it worse. “Can I use your bathroom?” He blurted.
“Mmm hmm. Down the hall, to the right.”
He thanked you, banking around you and the corner to hide in the bathroom.
As the door clicked shut, you locked eyes with your sister across the room. Even you felt how desperate you looked. She had the gall to laugh at you.
Traitor.
────────────────────────
Maybe this was going to be alright after all.
Sure enough, each of Hoseok’s boys rolled in, each one prettier than the last. The apartment had never been so blessed.
Jungkook brought two massive trays of food from chick fil a with enough side sauces to last until the apocalypse. What a fascinating juxtaposition he was. Wide eyes, innocent pink lips puckered unsurely around a little silver hoop and the dimensions of a Mack truck. How someone with that much ink curling across his skin was allowed to serve the lord’s chicken, you did not know, but you did know that god himself must have had a hand in sculpting his perky little peach of an ass. Glory.
Jimin and his obscenely pretty face brought champagne. Taehyung and his intense eyebrows brought vintage Christmas vinyls and a record player that looked like an old leather suitcase that he’d carried up the stairs on his hip like a briefcase. As soon as he’d gotten settled he’d put on Bing Crosby’s rendition of “white Christmas” and waltzed with Jimin around your kitchen island.
Seokjin brought the good food. Yoongi brought the good liquor. Your sister and Hoseok brought the laughter and joy.
It was a perfect way to spend a December night.
Somewhere during the course of the night, seokjin - who was wearing a Christmas sweater with an embroidered cat on it that he referred to as The Second Coming of Min Yoongi- decided to make an old fashioned popcorn garland for your tree. As he and Yoongi squabbled over how to properly thread a needle, you realized it had been ages since you’d seen Namjoon.
When he’d emerged from the bathroom earlier, his soft skin had been glistening as if he’d splashed water on his face. His hair looked to have been slicked back with wet hands, while one stubborn piece jutted forward to softly frame his brows. You’d gulped down your drink and avoided eye contact, knowing good and well your face was probably screaming “for the love of god, please marry me” every time you looked at him.
In your self-preservation, you feared it may have come across as plain avoidance. You needed to find him.
He’d driven all this way.
The tree farm was so far and he’d been working in the cold all day. Yet somehow he was here in your tiny home, without a single complaint.
Earlier in the night, you’d nearly tipped off your chair ladder trying to put the star on your tree and he’d caught you, scooping you up bridal style like it was as natural for him as breathing air. It was an unnecessary gesture. You really hadn’t been that far off the ground and the show of strength was absolutely welcome but embarrassing nonetheless. You’d been cradled in his chest again and god, it had taken everything in you to fight the instinct to bury your face between his pecs.
“Stop objectifying my sweet baby. You’ll taint him.” Hoseok had teased from across the room.
You’d shot him a death glare as a glum Namjoon had placed you gently on the ground.
“Sorry. Hope I didn’t make that awkward. I just… you were falling and…”
“It’s alright, Joon. Thank you.” Your smile was earnest. You watched the way his reaction played across his face like a movie. It made you want to kiss him. “Besides, I should’ve put the tallest man on the job in the first place.”
His dimples had reappeared then, and you’d felt the oxygen in the room go thin.
You’d been avoiding him ever since.
Pressing up off your IKEA futon and stepping around the push up - off a shirtless Jungkook was currently doing as Jimin sat cross legged on his back and Taehyung counted, you set off to find Namjoon.
In less than six hundred square feet, there weren’t many places he could go. Everyone else was in the kitchen/living room. That really only left the open bathroom, the balcony- which your sister and Hoseok were currently cuddled up on, watching the snow fall- and your bedroom.
You weren’t sure what you’d expected to find when you pushed open the door, but somehow Namjoon folded up on the floor studying the lower tier of your bookshelf actually made loads of sense. You hadn’t been aware someone that large could fold themselves into something so small. His long fingers trailed over the spines of your favorite books and something in your lower belly swirled.
You could have spent the rest of the night just watching him read.
That, however, even in your own home, might be kinda creepy so you decided to announce your presence instead.
“Howdy stranger,” you crooned, leaning shoulder first into the door jamb.
Namjoon startled, clutching his chest like you’d just given him a heart attack. His long limbs flailed, knocking into the bookshelf like the baby moose he was, sending a small picture frame careening down onto his head. It knocked his Santa hat off kilter, leaving the beautiful man looking like a bamboozled disaster.
Your laughter filled the room as he collected himself, straightening his hat and placing your frame back on the shelf. You came to sit beside him, hugging your knee and leaning one shoulder into his.
“Whatcha doing? Whatcha reading, more importantly?” You shot him a pointed look paired with a smile you hoped was disarming.
“Oh. Uh, nothing yet. I didn’t mean to pry. I just… well there was so much going on in the living room. I just wanted to get some air so I stepped in here, but I ended up getting lost in your book collection.”
His fingers trailed their spines again, and you felt a shiver down yours.
“You like to read?”
It was a pitiful question on your part really. Clearly he did. He was surrounded by your personal mini library, and it was the most comfortable you’d seen him be all day.
“Oh it’s the best thing, really. You can learn so much about a person by looking at the things they like to read.”
“And what have you learned about me?”
You felt yourself hold your breath as he looked down, dimples daring to show themselves again now that the two of you were in a private place.
“Well, it seems like you appreciate the classics, for one.”
His finger traced the curve of letters embossed in gold on an ivory spine.
“I went through an intense thrift shopping phase over the last few years. I got kind of obsessive about collecting beautiful books,” you confessed.
“You should come to my store sometime then. You’d love the first editions section.”
There was a pride glittering in beautiful dark brown eyes, the first swell of something like confidence showing in them.
“You work at a bookstore too?” You tilted your head to the side in question as his trademark sheepishness returned.
“Um, own. Co-own, really. Between me, Seokjin and Yoongi.”
“Stop- seriously?” You felt yourself press into his space without meaning to. The sharp, earthy smells of cedar and pine still swirled on him, but underneath that was soft clean soap. You found yourself wanting to press your nose into his throat. You realized too late that your eyes had been doing it for you, and Namjoon had caught you doing it.
Cleaning his throat, something in him seemed to grow bold.
He didn’t shy away anymore. He pressed up off the palms he’d been leaning back on and leaned into your space like you did into his. His thumb pulled your bottom lip out of your teeth, tracing along the edge of it softly.
“Seriously.”He whispered, the timber of his voice deep as winter.
His deep set gaze grew heavy as the moment lingered. You caught sight of his tongue flicking out to wet his full lips as his thumb traced yours and suddenly you felt all your grace leave you all at once.
“You should stay.”
It came out breathy, soft. You knew your face must have given away how molten you felt beneath his touch. He chuckled gently, eyes warm as he smirked. Only half a dimple this time, you noticed.
“Stay?” He arched a brow your way.
“When the others leave… you should stay.”
It was crazy, but the lightheaded part of you that was under his spell couldn’t think of anything else she wanted more.
Suddenly, he was soft again. Eyes no longer serpentine but wide. Kind.
“Is that… would you… like that?”
You smiled at him, sweet as strawberries, and then you were kissing him.
Just once. Slow, gentle, but deep.
There was a hint of cinnamon on his lips. Hobi had picked up some horchata at his favorite taqueria on the way back. He must have given some to Joon. You smiled against his mouth, licked into it once. Felt his chest vibrate with the groan it created.
When you pulled back, he was dazed, staring at you like you were made of stars. Eyeing you like he wanted to know what else you were made of. His lip bitten like he was too hungry to wait.
“Stay.” You breathed again.
“I’ll stay.” He whispered back.
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When the last person had left the apartment, you’d locked the door behind them.
Suddenly it was truly just you and him.
You’d turned, back to your front door and looked at him, eyes sultry, smile sweet.
Namjoon was across the room, too busy drinking you in to remember how to move. But you hadn’t forgotten, it seemed. You took your time crossing the small room. The vivid lights cast bursts of blue and red across your skin- it made your eyes look unearthly, tempting in a way Namjoon was incapable of fighting.
You stopped in front of him, palms pressed to his chest. He felt his eyelids grow heavy at the sensation, but he wouldn’t let his eyes close. Not yet. He didn’t want to miss a moment of you.
You slid your hands up his chest, alongside his throat, skimming his jaw and cupping his face. You stood between his legs and god, did he want to rock his hips against you. You were already leaning into him, your hips pressed into his pelvis. What were his corduroys gonna do? He knew you could feel him already swelling against you.
Your brushed soft thumbs across the angles of his face. He reciprocated by tenderly pushing your hair out of your face. Was your heart racing like his?
Slipping his hands down, he tugged the buckle of your belt forward into him with a thunk. He crept his thumbs beneath the sweater you’d tucked into your high black jeans, and let his fingers swirl against your stomach, smoothing over the dips at your waist. Your body was so soft. He felt himself grow warmer, swell against you harder. When your eyes clouded over and your bit your lip, he knew he was sunk.
“I’m gonna take this off now, okay ?” He whispered, tugging at your sweater as you nodded, glassy eyed and obedient, up at him. Jesus.
Why was he whispering? He didn’t know. It just felt right, he thought. Felt right like being beside you all night had felt. Felt right like he knew being inside you was gonna feel.
When he slipped the sweater up over your head, your earring got caught. A little gold hoop snagged in the knit.
Breathe, he reminded himself, go slow. You don’t have to rush.
He soon realized that was advice he was going to need to take to heart in more ways than one the second he untangled you and saw your glittering smile glowing brightly, saw the way your breasts were spilling smooth and fleshy over the confines of your lacy little balconette bra.
Jesus. Fuck.
Turns out he’d said both out loud and your glossy eyes grew hungrier the longer he looked at you.
“Do something, daddy.” You teased, voice low, gaze heady.
“Christ, y/n,” he drawled as his self-control blacked out.
Soon he was pushing your breasts together, burying his face between them. Sucking one into his warm mouth, scooping the other loose from the dark lace. He had one large hand firmly fitted just behind the buckle of your jeans as the other cupped your breast that wasn’t in his mouth, thumb diligently flicking your nipple until it grew stiff like a meringue peak. He slipped that one in his mouth then, tongue picking up pace his thumb had set and tweaking the nipple on your other breast.
You panted beneath his touch, sinking and molding into him like warm clay in his hands. He wasn’t sure when his hips had started to glide against you, but god, yours were moving too, supple and fluid like water. He needed to get you out of the rest of these clothes. He needed to find out if he could mark your breasts and neck black and purple with his mouth like he wanted to while he fucked you. You really did taste sweet, just like he thought you would. God, he wanted to take a bite out of you.
Pleasantries first though, he reminded himself.
Pushing his head back against the wall, he tried to catch his breath but your nimble fingers were working open the snaps on his corduroys instead.
“Question-“ he asked breathless.
“Answer,” you grinned, triumphant as you finally popped the latch on his pants.
“Jesus, fuck. Cripes.” His eyes fluttered shut as you ran his zipper down and reached beneath his boxer briefs to grab him.
“Which one of those was a question?” You smirked, licking your thumb before brushing it gently across the fleshy tip of him. His stomach dipped in, toned muscle crunching in on itself as your big man buckled under your touch.
“Okay, okay okay. I’m gonna have to ask this quick before you make me spontaneously finish on your tits touching me like that. Whew.” His eyes were blown, head back. Unprepared for you licking more fingers and slipping back down to gingerly play with his balls. “Oh my gooooooood. Okay. Okay. Okay. Marks?”
“Like hickies?” You asked curiously, your hand moving of its own accord to grip him firmly at the base and pull up.
“Yeah, yeah hickies,” he panted, his pretty skin growing sweaty.
“I like that.” You smiled, wide and way too pretty for him to handle right now.”it’s winter. Go crazy, big boy.”
He nodded raggedly, his brow furrowed deep as he bit his lip. He almost looked angry, he had no way of knowing it made you incredibly aroused.
“Tits. I like your…tits. A lot. So much. They’re so pretty.”
You smiled into his throat as you kissed his neck and pumped him silly.
“Joonieee, youre so sweet.” You nipped at his collarbone, giggling at shiver that ran through him.
“Would it… could I… Jesus, woman, why are you so good at that? Screw this. Fuck it. Can I cum on you, your chest at the end of this?” His eyes were direct now, serpentine and lusty as he licked his lips, ran a thumb along the swell of your breast.
“Yeah ?” You ran your tongue along his neck, sending another tremor through him.
“Yeah. You’d look so pretty with my cum on your chest. I mean, they look so pretty already, but Yeah, god yeah I want that.” he nodded.
“Okay. Promise. You can finish on my pretty titties, if you want.” You laughed.
“I want.”
“I’ll even let you fuck them if you want.”
“Christ. You said…what?” He was out of breath, lightheaded from the thought of himself being pressed between the two warm pillowy clouds on your chest.
“Uh huh, if you don’t finish inside me first, that is,” you breathed in his ear.
“Oh my god. Not fair. Get on the bed, now.” He said it with an edge, a grit you didn’t expect from your sweet nervous Christmas tree man. A bite that made you want to obey. Made you want to fuck his brains out. Made you want to be his baby girl so you followed along and played nice. He fumbled with your belt as you melted. You did what you were told and climbed back on up onto the bed, stripping the rest of the way for him along the way.
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As he followed, he pulled his thick wool sweater over his head, black hair falling in gorgeous eyes as he did. The full reveal of his torso left the space between your legs glossy and sticky in ways you hadn’t known it could be. His Jeans and black boxer briefs went next and then he was climbing up and over you, golden and lanky and strong and hung.
Jesus , fuck, Indeed.
He smiled at you, sourdough dimples and serpentine eyes as he slowed down.
“I’m gonna kiss you, okay?”
You nodded, obedient, nervous, eager. You wanted him. God, how did you describe how badly you wanted Kim Namjoon? His lips were plump, sweet, inexhaustibly delicious. His tongue slipped deep into your mouth, his hand firm but sweet on your hip as it climbed up your torso.
Your tits were in his mouth again, tongue flicking wildly as he moaned around your fullness and your nipple. He tweaked the other, switching back and forth as he rutted his too big dick into the meat of your thigh.
“Question,” you gasped, breathless.
“Answer, baby,” his hooded eyes were looking darkly up at you as his thumb slipped its way down to gloss smoothly over your silky clit. You cried out, and he smiled, mouth still filled with your voluptuous tit.
“Daddy?” You questioned, and the primal groan that rattled through his chest and through the sharp twitch of his dick against your leg answered any further queries you had to ask.
“Yes, please, baby. “
He slid up to suck a dark splotch into your neck, his dick sliding up and catching on the slippery ridge of your clit as he did.
“I can call you that ? Can I call you daddy?” You gasped.
He simply nodded, dropping kisses along your collarbone and throat as he lined up to finally slip inside you. The fit was snug, the drag of him along your inner walls sublime as he rocked, working you more and more open to the massive size of him. You smiled, delirious, giddy, as he fucked you like you were divine.
You came three times that night, he came twice. Once inside you and once on your pretty tits. Then one more time down your throat in the morning.
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“There’s not much, but I have…. Let’s see. Coffee, kombucha, seokjin’s leftover gingerbread men… oh and eggs. Can I make you eggs?” You fluttered your lashes up at him. “I’d really like to make you eggs.”
Namjoon looked so cute. Face puffy, lips full. Hair still damp from the shower he took. You’d both been too nervous to shower together, so you’d taken turns and done it separately. You thanked god you actually owned two bath towels to make it possible. He was so adorable. It made you want to cook for the man.
“Sure,” he nodded. Mercy, his voice was even deeper in the morning. He’d barely used it so far today, aside from the sexy groans that had spilled out of him this morning when you’d woken him up with your cheek resting sweetly on his inner thigh and his cock in your warm mouth. (You’d gotten consent the night before, of course.)
“Um, how do you take your coffee? And is scrambled okay? I make really good scrambled eggs.”
He smiled warmly, his gruff exterior softening with your exuberance. He nodded his assent and you got to work getting out the egg carton, your chopsticks, the milk and your lone skillet.
“Oh, wait. Your coffee, how do you take your coffee?”
You turned in your robe, a harsh pivot, just to accidentally end up nose to Namjoon’s sweatshirt covered tits with an Ooof.
He kissed your hair, a deep chuckle from the depths of his throat booming through his chest. He was wearing one of your giant college sweatshirts ( that fit just on the roomy side of just right on him) and his black boxer briefs, his substantial thighs looking gorgeous as ever as he stood barefoot in your kitchen. What a turn of events.
He slipped his sturdy arms around your waist from behind, pushing up against the underside of your boobs and buried his blushing face in your hair.
“Black. Just a little cream is good.” He murmured as you sank back against him.
You weren’t used to how soothing another person’s presence could be.
“Gotcha. I’ll grab the-“
He chuckled, pulling you tightly into him to stop your scurrying.
“Shhh. I got it. Thank you.” He pressed a kiss deep into the skin on your neck. It melted you just a little bit further into the solidity of him.
“For what?”
“Last night. This morning. Yesterday. All of it.”
His confidence dipped again. Cockiness replaced by a sincerity so disarming you felt your heart dip softly. He’s so sweet, you thought as you gently caressed the forearm he had draped over your stomach.
“Yes, well…I ….” it was then you realized you didn’t know what to say. In lieu of words, you kissed his palm.
“You’re already making us breakfast. Least I can do is grab my own coffee… you want some?” He nudged the tip of his nose against the top of your ear.
Being that close to his voice made you shiver. You nodded without realizing it. The sound of his voice made you want to be so obedient to him. Why were you so turned on by him being kind, damnit ?
His hands fitted themselves to your hips, pushing the fullness of your bottom back against his hips. You were about to tell him you take yours with sugar and more cream than coffee when your phone began to ring.
Startled, you bolted out of his arms to find… your sister trying to FaceTime you?
Kissing Namjoon’s cheek, you stepped away to answer. Queuing up the screen, you were thoroughly unprepared for brilliant, happy screams pealing through the phone. There was too much motion to make out an image at first, until finally. you caught a glimpse of sparkle. It was the ring Hoseok had shown you a picture of the day he decided to custom order it for your sister.
“Hobi proposed!!!” Your sister squealed. No regard for the neighbors, this one.
“When?”
“Last night. When we got home. Y/n it was perfect…. I could tell he seemed weird when we were on the balcony yesterday, oddly stiff. Like he was trying to tell me something, but it wasn’t making any sense. I teased him and told him to try again later. I was just being dumb- I didn’t know! but when we got home, I had gone upstairs to change out of my Christmas tree clothes and when I came back. He was on his knees in the kitchen.”
Your sister clasped a hand over her mouth as her eyes filled with happy tears. Smart boy, he’d listened to you and Namjoon.
“Y/n, I’m gonna be a wife. I'm gonna marry Hobi. Y/n, I’m so happy I could cry,” she sniffled as tears spilled over the backs of her knuckles.
“Baby, you are crying,” you teased, your own eyes growing glassy too.
“Hey, that’s MY BABY” you heard Hoseok yell from somewhere off camera.
“She was mine first,” you stuck your tongue out petulantly.
“Congrats, man!” Namjoon cheered from his spot by your coffee pot.
“Thanks bro!” Hoseok called back.
“Wait.” Your sister started….
Oh no.
“Was that…” Hoseok added.
No. No. No. no. No.
“Oh my god. Y/n, was that Namjoon?! Did he spend the night?!? Oh my gosh are you two in love now?!?
Startled you let you out something between a yelp and a shriek, dropping your phone on the carpet.
“Did you hold onto those arms of his all night?” Your sister teased.
“Wait-“ Hoseok interrupted ,” do you have a thing for Namjoon’s arms babe?”
“Everyone does,” your sister quipped.” You do too Hobi.”
“That’s not the point… eh! We’re Balenciaga buddies!” Hoseok cheered, the snap of elastic ringing through the air.
Apparently your phone fell in such a way that the camera gave them a beautiful view of Namjoon’s sleek black briefs and the tree trunks they were stretched around.
“Stop objectifying him!” You scolded Hoseok.
“I will when you do!” He taunted.
“Oh my god I can’t do this.” Pinching the bridge of your nose, you sighed as Namjoon scooped both you and your phone up from behind again
“Then I will.” He whispered in your ear. “Congratulations you guys!”
Hoseok and your sister gushed something sticky sweet about how obnoxiously in love you and Namjoon were and you couldn’t help it, you smiled too. You told your sister how happy you were for her, promising to call her later with all the juicy details before finally hanging up the phone and burying your face in Namjoon’s hard tiddy. Which he flexed for you, god bless him, before also flexing his yummy, yummy arms around you until you burst into a fit of giggles.
“I like this,” he whispered softly, pressing a kiss to your temple.
“Me too…. Got any plans today?.”
“Nope. I’m off the rest of the weekend.”
“Wanna go grocery shopping with me after I cook you eggs?”
“Are you just using me for my car?” He squinted slyly at you with a smile.
“No. That hadn’t occurred to me actually. I was actually planning on using your height and your body for my own personal benefit.” You answered thoughtfully.
“Oh.” His eyes went a bit wide like he hadn’t thought about that option. “Well. Then. Can I use you for yours?” He asked innocently.
“Sure. Although, you should know, I’m all talk. I’m the biggest softie…. I’m pretty sure if you’d asked me to marry you when we were talking tree-sourcing ethics, I would have strongly considered saying yes.”
Crap. You hadn’t planned on admitting all that. This was his fault. He was just so damn sincere. Those stupid eyes of his were so goddamn kind. You kept forgetting to put a guard up around him.
As you braced for him to be thoroughly traumatized by your admission, nothing of the sort came. He didn’t say a word. Instead, he hugged you beneath the ribs and hoisted you in a circle, nuzzling his cheek tenderly into your cheek.
“Oh thank GOD” he exhaled.
“I’m sorry- what?”
“I’ve spent all morning trying to figure out how to tell you how much I like you without making you feel like you might become the subject of the next true crime podcast.” He ran a hand through his silky hair as you stood stunned where he’d set you down to process his words.
“You….”
“Yeah…”
“That bad?”
“Honestly I’m not opposed to taking your last name if you asked me.” He shrugged.
You covered your face with both hands, shaking it ruefully despite the cosmically bright smile on your face. Soon you were both howling with laughter in each other’s arms, smiling into Namjoon’s deep eyes.
“This is crazy! We’re crazy.”
“I know.” He nodded in agreement.
“I like you.”
“I really like you.”
“I don’t know the first thing about you.”
“Let’s find out together, shall we?”
You felt your eyes fill with annoyingly happy tears. “Yeah, okay. I’d like that.”
“You just moved here right?”
“Yeah. Finally- should have done it ages ago. My turn-Why do you and Hoseok have matching designer underwear ?”
“We all do actually. It was Jimin and Seokjins doing a couple Christmases ago.”
“But just one pair each right?”
“Yeah?” Namjoon nodded, brows hunched in confusion.
“Okay. So that means you’re telling me you and Hobi just happened to be on the same daily boxer rotation the day you both fucked a pair of sisters with the same DNA?”
“Please don’t word it that way.” Namjoon grimaced.
“I worded it how it is,” you shrugged.
“My turn. Why do you really want me to go to the grocery with you, Hmm?” He wiggled his eyebrows.
“Besides the company? For the view when I make you stretch for everything I’ve ever needed on the top shelf, Babyyy.”
“Oh my god. Are you serious?” He couldn’t contain his laughter.
“As a heart attack.” You winked.
“C’mon. Show me how you make these super fluffy eggs I’ve heard so much about. I’m starving. The gorgeous girl who owns this apartment milked me dry three times in less than twelve hours. I’m famished.”
Goddamn him and those cheeky little dimples.
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555 notes · View notes
sparkling-ariaria · 9 months
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BTS fics I read and want to keep...no°1
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*Only fics that aren't already on one of my other lists*Complete fem or non-specific reader* Upd: 20.06.2023
Non-Idol AU
Only yesterday by borathae - Yoongi x Reader Your life in a small countryside village was nothing of the extraordinary, you owned a quaint little teashop, enjoyed warm evenings in your garden and liked taking walks by the river. One day a handsome stranger moves in the abandoned cottage opposite side of the river and it is not long that he becomes a source of comfort in your life.
Purr-haps I like you by taleasnewastime - Yoongi x Reader You have a no pets policy where you live, but when you find a tiny kitten in a box on the side of the road, what can you do but bring it home with you? The only problem? The landlord who made the no pets rule, also happens to be your flatmate.
A soft touch by madbutgloriouspond - Yoongi x Reader [fluff] Yoongi always knows exactly what you need.
The sweet shop by - Yoongi x Baker!Reader Yoongi gets extra clingy and too handsy while you’re whippin’ in the kitchen. And to Jungkook and Jimin’s dismay.
“You’re no longer alone” - Namjoon x Reader [hurt/comfort] God hears you when you ask him to make you feel less lonely.
Crazy, stupid love by koostarcandy - Bad boy!Jungkook x Good girl!Reader [short and adorable] Jungkook doesn't think of himself as man who would do reckless things for love, no. But he'd go to any heights, even if it drives him insane just for his love. Alternative? His drug is his baby.
Mr. Right (Swipe) family-free-side-blog - Fratboy!Jungkook x Reader Jeon Jungkook is well aware that he’s the bane of your existence. He just loves to push your buttons and lives to see you all riled up. So, what happens then when he catches you swiping left on his Tinder profile during class?
Fall back in love by bukguhope - Jungkook x Reader Jungkook somehow grew a reputation of sleeping around on campus, leaving him lonely and inexperienced with relationships. so when you, his old childhood best friend moves onto campus, he discovers what a relationship can feel like as he finds himself falling in love with you.
When I'm with you by koostarcandy - Jungkook x Reader
Heaven by daydreamindollie - Hoseok x Reader “Why do you only kiss me when I’m sleeping?”, “Can I do your hair?”, “Stop it, it tickles”
Alone again by archivedkookie - Hoseok x Reader Hoseok always ends up alone when the moon shines bright and the clock strikes midnight. Everyone eventually leaves him. And he isn’t surprised when you do, too.
A piece of your sun by holdinbacksecrets - Hoseok x Reader [talk about sickness of a relative, comfort] "You don’t have to ignore your doubts, love. It’s ok to say it hurts.”
Love Language by rmnamjoons - Namjoon x Reader Exactly one year before one meets their soulmate, their love’s first words spoken to them appear as a tattoo on their wrist. When Namjoon’s tattoo appears, however, it’s not of words, but of the most beautiful set of eyes he’s ever seen.
All to myself by madbutgloriouspond - Seokjin x Reader It's easy to come home and let yourself be wrapped up by your boyfriend.
A part of your home by jinkookspencil - Seokjin x Reader In which seokjin creates space for you in his apartment.
Bookstores and safe havens by jinkookspencil - Jungkook x Reader "Just one book", you promise Jungkook as you step into the bookstore.
Heart of the storm by ladyartemisia - Jungkook x Reader Jungkook was the handsome RA that you could never quite bring yourself to talk to, and you were the ice princess whose status kept you far out of his reach. But a selfless act of kindness in the midst of a terrible storm forges an unexpected bond between you - one that could break your guarded heart…or finally set it free. 
fxck a fxckboy by yoongifis - Yoongi x Reader Where you sort of hooked up with one of the school’s biggest fuckboys but end up leaving him hanging and never contacting him because…well…why not? Somehow the universe brought you two together and now you’re left dealing with him because he apparently caught feelings for you.
Protective by justcallmenikki7 - Platonic!BTS x Reader You’re new, and one day you get hit by a basketball and somehow, in some way, you got the Bangtan boys wrapped around your finger. 
Idolverse
Angel by joonberriess - Yoongi x Reader [nsfw but fluffy] He’s yours and you are his. You didn’t need a magazine to tell you that, because the media knew nothing about what went on behind the scenes.
Gold by beahae - Yoongi x Reader One thing your boyfriend isn’t shy about is his musical talent. You know he enjoys getting to show off a little. Which only makes it especially intriguing when he gets suddenly bashful about his most recent songwriting development.
Your Yoongi by yoongiphoria - Yoongi x Reader Yoongi’s a little tipsy, lots of lovey-dovey fluff and smut
One morning by aamalaaa - Yoongi x Reader What soft mornings with Yoongi would be like.
Studio Dates by mirahuyooo - Yoongi x Reader Nothing beats spending the late hours in your boyfriend's studio. 
Paws & Claws by amethystwritesbts - Taehyung x Dog groomer!Reader You get a bit exasperated when you have to stay late just to groom the dog of a high profile client, less exasperated when he ends up being a total sweetheart - his owner isn’t so bad either, turns out.
Intertwined by beenbaanbuun - Namjoon x Reader Namjoon brings home a new artpiece and you try to figure out what it symbolises.
Sunshine boy by magicchai - Hoseok x Baker!Reader Hoseok visits the bakery y/n works at regularly, enjoying the peaceful moments and the opportunity to flirt with a pretty girl.
Party on you by here2bbtstrash - Hoseok x Reader The only thing stronger than your social anxiety is your big dumb crush on Hoseok - and you're certainly not expecting it when he tells you the real reason he threw this album release party.
JK drabble by eoieopda - Jungkook x Reader Jungkook gets home from tour and is just the clingiest, cutest, softest bf.
Safety Net by orithyia-eriphyle - Platonic!BTS x member!Reader Compilation of the moments where the members of BTS are protective over the only female member, you.
Hybrid
Hierarchy by persphonesorchid - Panther Hybrid!Yoongi x Bunny Hybrid!Reader You go to an uni where most of the students are predators and get paired up with Yoongi for an assignment.
Out of the woods by angelicyoongie - Wolf Hybrid!Namjoon x Human!Reader Promising Jihyo that you were going to stay away from your writing for one weekend had been easy in theory, but much harder to actually do once you reached the little cabin the woods. To make matters worse, the only thing that rivals your inability to keep promises is your terrible luck – and after a particularly bad choice leads you to get lost in the mountains, you suppose that it’s only karma that you end up face to face with a wolf that looks ready to rip your throat out.
Fantasy/Supernatural/Space
Soulmate Drabble - OT7 x Reader
The Choice by ladyartemisa - Bastard Prince!Yoongi x Reader In which y/n virginity plays an important role in fulfilling a prophecy. Who will she decide to give it to?
The Mark of Yun-Ki by ladyartemisia - Tiger hybrid!Yoongi x Human!Reader For a thousand years the tiger god Yun-Ki has marked the heirs of the Min Empire and thus only a marked heir can inherit the throne. When the beautiful daughter of the Min Emperor’s loyal warlord rescues a mysterious tiger hybrid from the imperial prison, she unleashes a secret that the throne would kill to protect. The young emperor claims to be the chosen heir... but who really bears the Mark of Yun-Ki?
My Home by purpleyoon - Dragon!Yoongi x Human Healer!Reader It was close to winter, and your medicine was nearly complete for you to use. But when it came to, you helped another whose wounds were life threatening. Now, random items kept showing up on your porch, with each item bringing you closer to the creature you healed. And when he returned, he saved you. Now, with him, you felt like you were home.
Sehebon by httpjeon - Alien!Taehyung x Human!Reader You find yourself on Izo Huen, home to the Sehebon. Luckily for you, you've arrived at an interesting time.
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bunnys-kisses · 1 year
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in the dressing room mirror - namjoon kim
rating: e (18+) reader: f (implied plus size & black) summary: you were in need of a new christmas dress, while namjoon suggested that the two of you go somewhere with a high price point you were content with the discount department store you always went to. there was nothing wrong with a good deal you argued. and namjoon simply couldn’t argue back.  tags: smut, fluff, change room sex, oral sex (f receiving)  a/n: happy holidays from your favourite thumper! i know all you want for christmas is namjoon!
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it was late at the store, the two of you headed in late enough that it wasn’t busy but early enough that you didn’t overstay your welcome at the store and waste the employees time. they had places to be too.
you were in need of a new christmas dress, while namjoon suggested that the two of you go somewhere with a high price point you were content with the discount department store you always went to. there was nothing wrong with a good deal you argued. and namjoon simply couldn’t argue back. 
he sat outside the change room, hat tipped low and face mask on in the hopes no one would notice him. the dresses you tried on were nice, each of them you padded out in. he honestly would’ve been fine with your first pick of a cherry red dress with black accents, but you wanted it to be perfect. 
he looked up from his phone as you padded out in a gold and white dress, “you look beautiful.” he said smiling under his mask, but you could read the expression in his eyes. 
you exhaled and placed your hands on your hips, “gold makes me look cheap.” you turned to your side to examine yourself in the mirror, “looks good on most, but it seems like i’m trying too hard.” this was the first holiday dinner with the others and you were beyond anxious. 
no matter how much namjoon reassured you, the anxiety ate at you. maybe you looked cheap in all the dresses, maybe you were just cheap. you worried the inside of your cheeks before you exhaled deeply and stepped back into the change room. 
namjoon knew you were freaking out internally, but attempted to keep yourself composed. he put his phone away and got up, he looked over to the front of the section and saw the employee looking outwards and rather bored. she wouldn’t notice. 
phone in his pocket, he crossed the small distance to knock softly on the change room door, “hey, baby. can you let me in?” he smiled to himself as you unlocked the door and he stepped in. casting one last look at the employee who was unaware of what was going on. 
he was behind you as you stood there, feeling insecure in another dress. the dress was white and off the shoulder. it hugged your body and you fiddled with it. he wrapped his arms around you and rested his chin on your shoulder.
  “i know you’re worrying.” he said softly, “you’ll get lines if you worry so much about a dress. everyone will be so amazed by your beauty they won’t care about the dress.” 
you exhaled and dropped your shoulders, “i know, i know. it’s one dress for. a very private event. we could be wearing ugly christmas sweaters and no one will bat an eye.” 
  “you know them, they know you. trust me, they won’t mind.” he said softly as he moved up his hand and started to undo the zipper, his lips on your neck, “why don’t we continue to shop with a more relaxed mind.” he kept you tightly against him with one arm while he pulled at one of the sleeves of your dress, “i want to see my angel.” before he left a soft bite on your skin.
  “namjo-” he quickly covered your mouth with his hand.
  “sh, sh, sh. the quieter the better. i know you can be quiet.” his voice like a purr of a kitten that got the cream. he squeezed you tightly to him. he pulled his hand away and grinned at you.
you helped him get the dress off your body, you skin felt warm as you stood there in the change room in nothing but plain bra and panties. he cupped your face and turned you around back to face the mirror. 
  “tell me one thing you love about yourself.’ he whispered, “tell me one thing and i’ll eat you out right here.” 
you worried your bottom lips for a moment, “i don’t know... my knees? my knees aren’t too bad.” 
he chuckled against your warmed skin, “i know you can do better than that.” 
  “my face isn’t bad looking. my hair is nice too.” you touched your curls gently, “not a lot of women with this nice hair.”
  “they could only dream about it.” he purred, he cupped your breasts, “i love your eyes, your nose, those cheeks... both of them.” he winked at you in the mirror, “your smile, your breasts, your stomach, your thighs, your hips. you’re a remarkable woman and i will show you off gladly at the holiday dinner.” his nose brushed against the crook of your neck, “you’re my favourite gift.” 
he rubbed up against you and stroked your face, feeling the curve of your left cheek, “do you see what i see?”
your cheeks warmed as you looked down, “i sort of see what you see. i’m not the worst, but I’m not the best.” 
  “well then, i guess i have the rest of forever to tell you how beautiful you are.” he pulled away from you and took his hat and mask off fully before he got down between your legs. he looked up at you with affection with a slight flame of lust. 
he carefully kissed you warm thigh, feeling the soft skin against his lips. he melted a little, heavenly. his hands parted your thighs a little more as he started to kiss at your pussy. the small amount of hair tickling his upper lip. 
he said, “quiet now, i’d hate for us to get kicked out of your favourite store. and keep your eyes on the mirror. i want you to look at yourself and maybe see how i see you.” then went back to kissing at your sex, his strong hands keeping your thighs open. there was no escaping him, unless you wanted to be in the middle of the dressing room section with no clothes on and all flustered. 
you rubbed your cheek a little as your eyes caught your reflection in the mirror once more. you didn’t know what to do with your hands so they found themselves in your boyfriend’s soft hair. 
you bit your bottom lip tightly as he started to lick at your clit, one finger found its way into your pussy, then followed by another as you got more wet. he let out a small exhale against your wet pussy and groaned to himself. his cock straining his jeans, but that could wait till you picked out a dress.
he continued to lick at your wetness his fingers pushing in and out gently. he was’t going to go in hard, he wanted to be soft and watch you contain your moans.
he watched you clasped your hands over your mouth as he gestured with his other hand for you to look at the mirror instead of him. your gaze turned to the mirror, staring at your form in the reflection. 
you weren’t like most girls in seoul, bigger girl with a lot to love. your skin, your features, your weight were all things that made the anxiety grow worse. you sure as hell weren’t vampiric white, your hair wasn’t bone straight. you had curves and texture, and at times it gave you a nagging insecurity. you didn’t look like the girls in apgujeong but in all honesty. that’s what namjoon liked about you.
and as he looked up at you with those warm eyes, his tongue working its magic on your soft heat. he fell more in love with you. he rubbed your left love handle with his free hand as he closed his eyes and went back to work. 
why be like everyone else when you could look gorgeous in his eyes? he groaned a little against your skin as you felt warm all over. the tide of pleasure crept up on you. 
he marvelled at you as he rubbed your flesh. his other hand working on your pussy as he exhale deeply through his nose, his tongue dancing on your clit. your thighs tightened and he smiled to himself. 
you could hear the music outside the change room and into the stall, your legs trembled as you felt the pleasure wash over you, about to hit its peak. you licked your lips and swallowed down any moans. you knew namjoon was going to get it when you got home.
he gave a large lick to your clit that shot electricity up your spine. he looked up at you with a soft gaze and smile, his lips and chin covered in your wetness. he whispered as he continued to finger you, “beautiful.” before he dove back in like a man with an insatiable hunger. 
he continued to pleasure you in the change room, basking in your pleasure. the small room felt hot as his tongue moved. he removed his hand from your waist and rubbed through his jeans as he felt you tense up with impending orgasm. 
you covered your mouth once more and your eyes fluttered shut as he continued to lick at you and push his fingers as deep as they could go inside of you. his thumb grazed your clit along with his tongue and the pressure made you jump a little. that made him chuckle against your pussy. 
soon you stepped back, resting your back against the cool door to relieve some of the warmth in your body, your free hand found his soft hair and combed your fingers through it as he lapped at your pussy. 
angelic, sweet, perfect, lovely, amazing, beautiful, and all mine, he thought as his eyes closed to continue his work. he added a third finger and could really feel the limits of your tightness around his fingers. he remained a rhythmic pace with his laps and licks. 
it wasn’t long before you felt your breathing become harder from holding your breath to keep quiet. and then like an all consuming wave, pleasure crashed over you. your eyes rolled back as you put both hands over you mouth and let out a small moan, praying no one could hear you. you made your boyfriend’s mouth a mess with wetness but as he pulled away in a daze he licked his lips like he had jut had the best dining experience in the world. 
he licked his wet fingers and made eye contact with you, the lustful sight made you rub your thighs together. when he got up he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand and kissed you on the lips. 
he quietly said, “see what i see now?”
  “namjoon.” you replied softly, your bodies pressed together as he pulled you in.
he pressed another kiss against your face, “also, i liked the dress you were wearing when i came in. now let’s get out of here before people start asking questions.” then readjusted his hard on in his pants and exited like he didn’t just give you a mind blowing orgasm.
as your breathing began to level out, you looked at the dress. you guess, you thought, it could do. but the dress was the last thing on your mind as you pulled your panties back up from around your ankles and readjusted your bra. 
xoxo, U・x・U
413 notes · View notes
daechwitatamic · 1 year
Text
I. Your Wild-Running Heart || KNJ
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(banner by @/itaeewon)
Title: My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold (Masterpost)
Rating: NSFW - minors dni
Genre: college!au, roomie!au, angst, s2l, the absolute slowest of burns
Pairing: Namjoon x female reader, unrequited Taehyung x reader
Beta'd by @/kookstempo, @/casuallyimagining, and @/toikiii - thank you endlessly!
Summary: You know a lot about the many types of love thanks to Kim Taehyung. You love him as the only person you see as “family”, you love him as your very best friend, and you love him as the beautiful, funny man he’s become. But when a twist of fate during your senior year has you rooming with his good friend Kim Namjoon, you just might find that you have plenty left to learn about love. 
Lesson One: there are such things as a right way and a wrong way to love and to be loved.
//
When your roommate bails last-second and leaves you completely in a bind for the new school year, your best friend Taehyung mentions that his friend Namjoon needs a place off-campus, too.
Section Warnings: language
WC: 7k
The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake, Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road A gateless garden, and an open path: My feet to follow, and my heart to hold. - Journey | Edna St. Vincent Millay
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Friday August 28 
“Please, no,” you beg. “Please tell me this is a joke. I can’t live with a man. Do you know what men are like?”
Taehyung, quite a specimen of man last time you checked, cocks an eyebrow at you. “Y/N,” he says flatly. “You’re doing it again.”
It meaning being dramatic, and you resent that implication.
You whine, shuffling your feet unhappily. “But Tae,” you say - okay, you whine. “If my roommate is a guy, then I have to wear a bra in the apartment, like, all the time.”
“Oh my god,” he says, throwing his hands in the air, completely over you. “Do you want my help or not? What are your other options right now?”
How nice of him to ask. 
You’d been so excited to lease an apartment off-campus for your final year of university, even more excited to share it with a girl in your writing program named Penny. You hadn’t thought twice about putting the lease in only your own name, but when Penny texted you - the audacity of her to not even call - to say she wasn’t going to return in the fall after all, you were stuck with the responsibility.
So, since Taehyung asked, your options are this: pay the entire rent by yourself (impossible), or find a roommate, fast. 
“Namjoon’s a really good friend of mine,” Taehyung tries again. “I am personally vouching for him that he’s not a weirdo or a creep. His building flooded and he’s in a bind - just like you. He’s nice, he’s smart, and he’s normal.”
“What about clean?” you prod. 
Taehyung shrugs. “Cleaner than me.”
You sigh. You know Taehyung is right - you need someone quickly, and at this rate you’re bound to only find creeps. At least this guy - even though he’s a guy, which is your main issue - has been vetted.
“You’re not very clean,” you tell your best friend.
He grins at you, guilty as charged. 
“Could we talk first?” you suggest, nerves churning. “Like, can I meet him?”
Taehyung narrows his eyes at you. “Did you think I was going to drop the key off at his place and say ‘okay, have fun!’?”
“Maybe!” you cry, feeling a little hysterical. 
Taehyung rolls his eyes at you. “Want me to see if he can swing by the place tomorrow?”
The plan for the next day was originally for you two to load up your car through the morning, grab lunch somewhere, and then start moving your stuff into the apartment after you ate. 
“Yeah,” you answered. “That actually sounds like a good plan. Then he can see the apartment, too. And you’ll be there with me.”
“Actually a good plan,” Taehyung parrots with a scoff. “Please.”
After your lunch date, Taehyung drops you back home so you can finish packing. You’d packed a lot already - all of your big pieces of furniture were there already, your bedroom now just a mess of random piles of clothing and your bare mattress on the ground. A lot of what you still had were things you knew you’d need to use again during the days you were starting to pack - toiletries, electronics, that kind of thing. With a sigh, you turn on some music and start pulling hangers out of your closet. 
You think about your situation as you work. You’re disappointed about Penny - you’ve lost a roommate and a good friend, somehow. You’re nervous about meeting Taehyung’s friend Namjoon. You’re somehow both excited for and dreading the academic year starting - your final year, complete with a senior thesis course you’ll have to pass in June. And you’re excited for the apartment - your first one that isn’t an on-campus dorm. 
No campus security knocking on the doors, no RA going through your fridge for forbidden liquor bottles, no shared hallway bathrooms. With your own bedroom in the apartment, you’re guaranteed a space that is just yours, a sanctuary where you can have the quiet you crave and aesthetic you want, your own four walls that are completely your own. 
Taehyung’s apartment, which he shares with two friends, isn’t far from your new one - walking distance, actually. He’d offered you his couch there when Penny first bailed. But even if you took his offer, you’d be charged for breaking your lease, and you’d still have to find something more permanent - which would mean another security deposit, not to mention rent. As long as you kept the optimism that you’d successfully secure and keep a roommate, staying was the cheaper option.
You won’t talk about how you wish Taehyung would offer more than his couch.
You won’t talk about how when he’d said, “You know, you could stay with me,” in that deep, comforting voice of his, your heart had run wild. 
Then he’d continued, “That couch isn’t too bad to sleep on, I’ve done it before. And the guys wouldn’t mind. Then you’d have time to find something new, maybe something you can afford alone?”
And your wild-running heart had stuttered, stumbled, caught its footing, stood still. 
You can’t even get mad at him. He’s trying to help. It’s not his fault - at all - that he doesn’t know that your imagination leapt off a cliff at his words, was already picturing snuggling in his bed, those strong arms tight around your middle, was already picturing waking up to his sleepy smile. 
You don’t pretend for even a second that it’s anyone’s fault but your own. 
--
Around ten pm your Aunt Lin comes and knocks on your open door, looking down at the scene before her: you, sitting cross-legged on your bedroom floor, surrounded by half-closed boxes, miscellaneous items strewn around the floor around you, clothing piled up like mountains around you.
“You don’t look very ready,” she remarks.
“That’s helpful, thank you,” you say. 
Lin has raised you ever since you lost your grandmother, who had taken care of you before that. Your grandmother and Lin are the only parental figures you can really remember, but Lin’s technically only ten years your senior and has always felt more like a big sister than a mother. You can’t fault her for it; she was still quite young when she took over raising you. She certainly didn’t have to take you in, but she had, and she’d done her best. 
Lin chuckles. “Why isn’t Taehyung here helping?”
You roll your eyes. “He’s my friend, not my servant. He’s helping me move all this in tomorrow, that’s plenty.”
Lin shrugs, already disinterested. “Okay,” she says lightly. “Well, I wanted to say good luck with the move, and good luck with school this year. Let me know if you need anything.”
You look up from your packing and take in her appearance. She’s in scrubs, a huge thermos of coffee in her hand. She’s got work tonight, then, and won’t be here in the morning when Taehyung picks you up. You should have figured. 
“Thanks,” you say. 
She shifts, looking down the hall instead of at you, suddenly. Lin’s not great with emotions; it’s where you get it from.
“Okay,” she says. “I’ll see you for winter break? If not before?”
“Yeah,” you say. “Yeah. Definitely by then.”
She nods, tells you goodbye, and heads down the hallway. You hear the front door close, and you’re alone with your boxes. That’s about as mushy as it gets with Lin.
[11:44 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: what time tmrw?
[11:45 PM] You: you drive the car, you tell me
[11:51 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: 10?
[11:54 PM] You: you think that’s enough time to pack up the car and drive there before lunch?
[11:58 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: 🙄 this is why i asked YOU what time
[12:01 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: 😤
[12:02 AM] You: 9:30 
[12:03 AM] You: and bring me iced coffee 🤗 plsssss???
[12:06 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: 🙄🙄🙄🙄🙄
[12:08 AM] You: love u tete
[12:11 AM] Tae Bear 🧸: yeah yeah love you too 
You press the top of your phone into your forehead, closing your eyes. Letting yourself pretend, for just a second, that he could mean it the way you do.
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Saturday August 29
Taehyung shows up in the morning - at ten, not nine-thirty, but he has an iced coffee for you in his car, so you let him live. 
It takes you over an hour to load up the car, the boxes and suitcases and garbage bags squished together, shoved impossibly tight, the world’s most desperate game of tetris. Taehyung declares it impossible no less than five times, bemoaning that he’ll have to make the hour drive a second time in order to fit all of your shit. 
In the end, you make it happen. It just takes a little determination. 
The drive to your university is around an hour, depending on traffic. You and Taehyung both don big, goofy aviators and blast music as you sail down the highway, the backseat loaded floor to ceiling. The car is so stuffed, you even have boxes between your feet and on your lap. 
The sun shines brightly down on you as you and Taehyung sing and groove your way through the drive, and you feel… so content, so sure that this is right, that you’re meant to be next to him, like this, forever. Like everything in the universe just clicked together to give you the perfect snapshot of how things are meant to be. 
What if you said it? What if you told him? 
Sometimes, moments like now, you just can’t fathom how he doesn’t feel it too. 
But you know better. You know he doesn’t - doesn’t want to. Something deep inside you tells you to tread carefully with this best friend of yours. Something instinctual tells you that the dysfunctional friendship you’ve crafted together is a Jenga tower and if you so much as nudge the wrong brick, it’s all coming down. 
You eat lunch at a table out in front of a cafe, people watching and basking in the sunlight. It’s the last, trickling days of August, but today’s breezy and cooler. It’ll warm up again before fall comes in full force, you’re sure, but you appreciate the reprieve from the scorching heat, since you’re about to spend several hours hauling boxes up a stairwell.
After lunch, Taehyung drives to your new neighborhood and finds a street-parking spot close to the front entrance of the tall, brick building.
“Okay,” he says. “Now the fun part.”
You giggle. “Have I told you yet that I appreciate you?”
“Elaborate, please,” he says, which is so typical for him. He looks over at you, sunglasses low on his nose.
You roll your eyes, but you’re smiling. “I appreciate you helping me move in. I appreciate you driving me. I appreciate the afternoon you’re about to spend carrying boxes and shit.”
“You’re forgetting something,” he tells you sagely.
You want to whack him in the belly for being so obnoxious, but you can’t risk him dumping all your stuff on the sidewalk and fucking off to let you deal with the stairs on your own. 
“I appreciate you finding me a roommate so I don’t have to sleep on your couch,” you add.
“There we go.” Satisfied, he unbuckles, and you both get out and examine the backseat for whichever Tetris piece seems like it could be removed easiest. Arms full of boxes, you make your way up the steps to the little lobby that houses a wall of mail slots, and then up a second set of stairs to your second-floor apartment.
You set down the box you were carrying and dig out the key, opening the door to your new home.
You really do love this apartment. Through the open space - past the kitchen and through the living room - sunlight streams in through the large front windows that overlook the city block below. You can already see in your mind where you’ll put plants on low tables, or hanging from the ceiling.
You had done the big stuff days ago, with both Lin and Taehyung’s help; Lin had rented a little moving van and you’d loaded up the big furniture. From Lin’s house, you’d taken your bedframe and boxspring, leaving just the mattress in your old bedroom at Lin’s house. You’d also loaded up your low dresser, a nightstand, and two bookshelves. You’d gotten a few pieces from a local repurposing store - a desk to work at and a little swiveling chair to go with it. Your final splurge was an expensive mattress; the one in the store had felt like damn clouds. It was set to be delivered sometime this afternoon. 
You’re already looking forward to going to sleep later.
You and Taehyung try to just put boxes where they’re meant to go. Two boxes end up in your bathroom, another two in the kitchen. You split the books between your bedroom and the living room, where a lone bookshelf is the only current piece of furniture. You heave bags of clothes and linens into your closet, determined to deal with them later. 
The mattress delivery goes smoothly, the truck arriving as you and Taehyung are about halfway done unloading the car. You leave the building’s front door and your apartment door propped open and both teams do their thing: the delivery guys carrying the mattress up the steps, you and Taehyung behind them with garbage bags full of your clothes or boxes of books. 
“You,” Taehyung pants, “have way too much stuff.”
You grin sheepishly, as in the other room your new mattress is removed from its plastic wrap and placed atop your awaiting boxspring. You’re itching to dig out your linens and make the bed; that’s always what makes a room feel ready to you, even back when you were just setting up a little dorm. Once the bed was made, everything else slowly fell into place. 
Once the delivery truck rolls away, you throw yourself bodily onto the mattress, letting out a series of happy groans as you let the pillowy goodness envelop you. 
“Taehyung,” you call tantalizingly. “Come feel it.”
You hear him drop a box in the living room with an audible oof - it must have been more books - and then he comes into your new bedroom and flops sideways across the bed next to you, the mattress jumping and settling again under his weight.
“Wow,” he says, rolling on his back and then turning to look at you, his legs bending to touch the floor. “This is nice. Let’s trade, I’ll bring mine over.”
“Nope,” you say, smiling. “I bought this one with my hard-earned summer money. It’s just for me.”
“Yeah,” he says, voice wry, “for you and your guests.”
Now you do whack him in the belly. He grunts, hands covering the spot, then lays still again.
“That wasn’t nice,” he comments mildly. “No hitting.”
“What guests?” you pout. “I haven’t had a guest since–”
“Ah, spare me the Great Drought of 2022 story,” he begs. He sits up, reaching into his pocket. As his hand retracts, you realize his phone is buzzing with an incoming call.
“Bro,” he says as a greeting, and then listens. “Yeah, we’re here now. That’s fine. Sounds good. Okay.”
He taps to hang up and looks at you. “Namjoon is almost here. That’s fine, right?”
“I was right here,” you huff. “Yes, it’s fine, but you literally could have asked me.”
Taehyung ignores you. “There’s one more box. I’ll go get it, and then I’ll stay while you meet with Joon, and then I’m gonna go, okay?”
“Oh,” you say, heart sinking a little bit. You’d kind of hoped he’d stick around, just hang out and goof off while you unpacked boxes and organized your stuff. “Sure.”
He reads you like a book; he always does.
“Don’t pout,” he says, and there’s something apologetic in his tone. “I just have to do some stuff today. And I really need to shower, this got me all sweaty.”
Well, you don’t need that mental image. Luckily, you’re saved from yourself by a knock at the front door. This strikes you as so polite, because not only is Namjoon going to literally live here, but also because the door is still propped wide open.
You sit up, fixing your hair from where you laid on it. Taehyung has already made his way through the living room and is giving a one-handed bro-hug to the guy at the door. You make your way over, heart thumping. 
You notice a few things right away. He’s tall - taller than Taehyung, and you don’t see that often. His eyes are absolutely striking - there’s sharpness to them, something that makes you want to see the world how he does, something that makes you want to keep looking, something that makes you curious about how he’d see you. 
When he smiles, each cheek dimples, the perfect size for the pad of your index finger. He’s all in browns except for a pair of light-wash jeans. He’s got a dark brown beanie tugged low on his head, and even his thin, wire-frame glasses seem to be chosen for the vibe above all else.
“Hi,” you say, sounding a little shy even to your own ears. Taehyung moves out of the way and you reach to shake Namjoon’s hand. “I’m Y/N. It’s nice to meet you. Taehyung promised me you’re normal.”
The guy lets out one big laugh, surprised. “He told me the same,” he says conspiratorially, “but really, that’s such a subjective thing.”
Taehyung rolls his eyes, and you step back to let Namjoon in, preparing to show him around. 
“Kitchen and living room are here,” you say unnecessarily, since he can see for himself. “Your bedroom would be on this side.” You push open the door and Namjoon sticks his head in. The room is completely bare, the empty closet door standing open. 
“You get your own bathroom,” Taehyung points out. Namjoon nods appreciatively, still looking silently back and forth across the room that would be his as soon as you pass him a key.
“Is it okay?” you ask, suddenly feeling nervous. If this guy backs out, you’ll be back at square one, and now with less time to solve the problem.
“Oh,” he says, as if remembering he should communicate. “Yeah! It’s great.” He turns and peers at the living room, which is empty but for your lone bookshelf and several boxes of books, unopened.
“I have some stuff we can put here, if you want?” he asks, his tone a little uncertain. “Specifically, I have a couch and coffee table, plus a TV and a console to put it on. It should all fit.”
“That would be great,” you say enthusiastically. “I was already stressing out about saving up enough for a couch.”
He nods easily, looking around the room thoughtfully. Taehyung has wandered over to the large windows and is looking up at the tree that stands right outside, the branches waving lightly in the afternoon breeze. With the sunlight coming in, he looks like a painting. 
“I have a rug, too,” Namjoon muses. “Would you be interested in that?”
“Definitely,” you tell him, tearing your eyes away from Taehyung’s back. There’s something knowing in Namjoon’s face as he watches you, and you flush, feeling weirdly caught.
“Okay,” he says, “I’ll bring it. What about kitchen stuff?”
“I don’t have a ton,” you admit, pointing to the two boxes - not very big ones - that you’ve left on the kitchen counter. “If you’ve got more, that’s probably good. I don’t cook that often, to be honest. I’m not very good at it.”
Namjoon smiles at you, leaning over a little like he’s letting you in on a secret. “I can barely boil water,” he admits. “So you’re all good.”
You stand together as you discuss how you’ll be splitting the monthly costs for the utilities, not to mention the high-speed wifi that’s getting set up in two days. That leaves you to work out the rent, what day it’s due and how you want to handle paying it. In the end, you decide that he’ll electronically pay you, and you’ll pay the landlord, since it’s your name on the lease. He pays you right there on the spot, and you pass him the key that was meant for Penny.
“Is it okay if I start moving my things tomorrow?” he asks you.
You shrug. “This place is yours now, too,” you say easily. “You can honestly do what you want.”
“Okay,” he says. “I’ll probably start in the morning then?”
“I can’t promise I’ll be up,” you laugh, “but don’t let that stop you!”
“Should we…” he pauses, adjusts his glasses. “Should we exchange numbers?”
Taehyung makes a face you know well; it’s the face he makes when he wants to laugh or make fun of something, and he’s doing the Good Person Thing by keeping the thought to himself, but he wants to make sure you know by his face that he is holding it in. He wants credit for doing the Good Person Thing.
You honestly hate him sometimes. It’s the only thing keeping you from tipping straight into insanity. Sometimes, I really hate Taehyung. 
“Yes, we probably should,” you say, because someone in this room needs to act like they aren’t twelve years old, and it’s not going to be Kim Taehyung, apparently.
You do, and then Namjoon tells you both goodbye, making his way back out to the hallway and down the steps. You can hear his footsteps fall away into nothing. 
Taehyung looks at you, smiles angelically. “See?” he says. “I told you he was nice.”
He reaches for his keys on your kitchen counter. You frown, detecting his imminent departure. 
“Will you come over tomorrow?” you ask, a little pitifully. 
He considers this, and nods. “For dinner?” he suggests. 
“Yeah,” you say. “We still won’t have wifi yet. We’ll be bored.”
“Only boring people get bored,” Taehyung says sagely, holding up one finger like a wizened philosopher. Then he comes to hug you goodbye, pulling you into a sweet embrace. You want to live there, in the spot between his arms. 
Once he’s gone, you look around your new home. Alone, you decide to put on music and start tackling boxes. You start in the bathroom, finding towels so you’ll be able to shower in the morning, unpacking all your toiletries, setting up your toothbrush just so. You do the kitchen second; the sun sets outside as you find places for your battered pots and pans. 
You stop for dinner, getting take-out from a place nearby that delivers. Then you dive back in, setting up your bedroom. It feels cozy already, once the bed is made and you’ve plugged in your little lamps. Calmer, you start folding clothes to put into dresser drawers. At one point you wander out of your room to get some water and you freeze in your bedroom doorway, struck by how lonely it feels. 
The rest of the apartment is lit only by the yellow glow coming from your bedroom, plus the thin, white light that filters in from the streetlight below the living room windows. You hurry into the kitchen and turn on the light over the sink, which vanishes some of the bad feeling for you. You pour your glass of water and lean heavily on the counter, looking out at your empty living room, and the dark doorway of Namjoon’s untouched room. You wish Taehyung had come back over, or that some of your university friends had moved back into the area sooner.
You rinse your glass and head back into your room, ready to distract yourself with more unpacking until you’re tired enough to sleep.
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Sunday August 30
Bumps and crashes wake you in the morning. It takes you a few minutes to figure out where you are - ah, the cloud bed, in your new room. The morning sunlight is strong; apparently the windows on the front of the apartment face the east. You make a mental note to shop for some good blackout curtains, and check your phone. Not much waiting for you - Lin texted around 1 am asking if you got settled okay, probably while she was on a quick break. You answer her, check your socials, and then lay back, just looking around. 
You got a lot done yesterday, but you still have more unpacking to do. It also occurs to you that not only is there no coffee waiting for you in the kitchen, there’s no food of any kind in the whole place, unless you count your container of leftover takeout from last night. 
You shower and get dressed, figuring it's best to stay out of the way - you can hear the grunts and huffs and loud bumps that indicate Namjoon’s got some friends helping him move things in. But eventually, the growling in your stomach and your body’s clamoring for caffeine send you out into the living room.
The low entertainment center is in place across the room from you, a flatscreen tv situated on top. There are now two stools tucked beneath the breakfast bar in the kitchen, and a pretty, wooden coffee table sits in the center of the living room.
There’s a guy on the floor surrounded by furniture pieces, a screwdriver, and a packet of instructions in his hands. You can hear a lot of shouting, bumping, and cursing floating in from the stairwell down the hall. 
“Hey,” the guy on the floor says. “You’re Y/N? I’m Namjoon’s friend, Yoongi.”
“Hi,” you say, a little bewildered. “What are you… building?”
He sighs, squinting at the paper in his hand. “It’s supposed to be a bookshelf. Eventually.”
You’re about to respond to this when the noise from outside the open door gets infinitely louder. You see Namjoon’s expansive back as he shuffles backwards through the doorway, one end of a faded, grey couch in his hands. 
“Okay, you have to turn,” he coaches whoever is on the other side.
The couch makes it through the door, and you’re surprised to see that you know the other person carrying the couch. He’s one of Taehyung’s best friends, and you’ve hung out together as a group plenty of times over the last three years.
“JayKay!” you call happily. “Welcome to my house!”
He laughs, nose scrunching with delight. “Y/N,” he crows. “Where should I put the couch?”
“Across from the tv,” Namjoon answers for you, sounding a little breathless. They shuffle through the room, and you notice for the first time that they’ve already put the rug in place, covering most of the warped, wooden floor of the living room. The couch settles over top of it, and Namjoon slides the coffee table to a more centered position.
One more guy comes through your doorway, carrying a nightstand and a lamp. He’s got quite possibly the widest shoulders you’ve ever seen. He disappears into Namjoon’s bedroom, and you hear the quiet thump as he sets the nightstand down in there.
“Wow,” you say. “You’ve got a whole moving crew.”
“Notice who’s not here helping,” Jungkook grumbles.
You smile to yourself. If you know him at all, you’ll guess Taehyung isn’t even out of bed yet. 
“In his defense,” you say, and Jungkook snorts, as if it’s so typical that you’d defend Taehyung, which… it might be, “he did a lot for me yesterday. We had his car packed with my stuff.”
“Yeah, yeah,” Jungkook mutters and turns to - presumably - get more stuff from downstairs.
“You have a lot left?” you ask Namjoon, who seems to be catching his breath for a minute, perched on the arm of the couch. “I’d offer to help, but I was just about to go get groceries - there’s very literally no food here.”
“We’re about done with the heavier stuff,” he says, looking at the open door, like he’ll find an inventory there that he can reference. “But still plenty of assembling left.”
“Hooray,” Yoongi deadpans from the floor, holding the instruction packet up in the air like a different angle will help him decipher the directions.
You find your little foldable cart and make your way to the grocery store a few blocks away. By the time you’re done scouring the aisles, you’ve loaded the cart to the top and still have to carry some of the bags. But at least now you’ll have food to eat, things to drink besides tap water. 
Getting up the stairs with your groceries sucks, but you make it, panting like crazy as you finally unlock the front door and let yourself in.
You’re greeted with silence; it’s clear the guys are all gone. The living room looks completely different than twenty-four hours ago. The couch and table look great, and it seems like Yoongi’s bookshelf is mostly complete - it’s upright, just missing a few shelves near the top. You set the groceries down in the kitchen next to three unopened boxes - it seems like Namjoon’s gameplan was the same as yours yesterday: get the boxes into the appropriate rooms, do the rest later. 
You peek into his bedroom - he’s left the door all the way open, which feels nice, like he trusts you, and you make a mental note that you should probably do the same. You notice that it looks like the furniture is all in place there, too. It doesn’t differ much from yours, actually. The bedframe is put together, the boxspring and mattress leaning against the far wall. He’s also got a tall chest of drawers, a wicker hamper, and in the corner, a desk. Namjoon’s furniture is a lot more modern looking than yours, sleek and matching. You bet he didn’t get half of his from the thrift store. 
You put the groceries away and make yourself a small lunch, eating it on the couch in the quiet of the apartment. You’ve got about twenty-four hours to go until there’s wifi and you can stream shows when you’re home alone. You’re just cleaning up your lunch when you hear a key in the lock, and then the cacophony of boys’ voices as they reenter the apartment. 
“-far superior, I’m telling you,” Jungkook is saying emphatically. The smell of greasy burgers and fries hits you in the kitchen along with the sound of his voice.
“I hear what you’re saying, and I respect your opinion,” a flat voice responds that you think might belong to Yoongi. “It’s just that you’re wrong.”
“Hey,” Namjoon says, noticing you standing in the kitchen. The guys pass through, heading into the living room, Jungkook already digging in the bag. They surround the coffee table, handing out burgers and fries, filling the room with delicious smells and noisy chatter.
You take this opportunity to head back into your room, sitting on your bedroom floor and opening one of your boxes of books, starting to put them on the small shelf beneath your window. You pop in your airpods and turn on music, losing yourself in the monotonous movement of digging out a new book, then turning to place it on the shelf. Rinse, and repeat.
When you finish, you move into your closet. You put your little wire shoe rack back together and locate your box of shoes, lining them up neatly. Then, you tackle another garbage bag full of clothes that go on hangers, flapping each shirt or dress to relieve it of wrinkles before hanging it up. After that, you find a box of miscellaneous dresser items - jewelry boxes, perfume bottles, headbands - and put those where you want them, too.
By the time you decide you need to sit down and take a break, it’s nearly evening, the light outside reaching that golden hour. You really do love the natural lighting in this place. 
You take out your airpods and set them to charge, listening carefully. You’ve had your bedroom door open this whole time, but the guys had left you alone and you’d minded your own business. Now, the apartment is filled with silence again. They must be gone.
You text Taehyung for the first time that day, which strikes you as weird. He must have been busy today, too. It’s odd for you two to make it until almost dinner without speaking.
“Dinner?” you text, and then wander out into the living room. 
“Hey,” a voice says from near the floor, and you practically leap out of your skin. You startle so violently that your phone slips from your hands and clatters to the floor.
“Holy crap,” you breathe when you realize Namjoon is sitting on the floor next to his newly assembled bookshelf, an open box of books before him. He seems to be sorting them into piles before putting any on the shelf.
“Sorry,” he says, eyes wide. “I didn’t mean to--”
“No, you’re fine,” you assure him. “I’m just… a jumpy person. You’ll get used to it.”
You watch him sort books for a minute, then eye your own empty bookshelf, your boxes still closed on the ground next to it. You decide if it’s Bookshelf Hours, you might as well, right? You set your phone on the coffee table and settle in, opening your first box and starting to place books on the bottommost shelf.
“So,” you say, because it feels weird to be sitting four feet from your new roommate and not speaking, “Taehyung said you’re a grad student at the university?”
Namjoon nods wordlessly, eyes on the books he’s sorting. “Yep,” he says finally. “And you’re a senior?”
“Mhm,” you confirm. 
After that scintillating conversation, you both lapse into silence as you work. You continue like that for some time - long enough to reach the middle shelf - before you realize you hear your phone buzzing on the table. You stretch to reach for it, missing how Namjoon glances sideways at you, at how an inch of your stomach is revealed as you lean over. 
“Hi,” you say, pressing the phone to your ear.
“Took you long enough to answer,” Taehyung gripes.
“Sorry,” you say. “We were putting books away.”
Taehyung’s silence is just one beat too long. “We, huh?”
You laugh, once. “I mean? That’s what each of us is doing? So? Yeah?” From his spot a few feet away, Namjoon glances over his shoulder, frowning slightly.
“Anyway,” you say, “dinner? Do you want to come over?” 
“Yes,” he says decisively. “Order us something and I’ll head over?”
“Sure,” you say, already hanging up. You don’t need to ask what he wants; no matter where you order from, you know what he likes. 
“Do you want to order with us?” you ask Namjoon mildly as you scroll through the local delivery app. “I was thinking pizza.”
“Yeah,” Namjoon says slowly, like he was deep in thought and has to process what you’d said to him. “That would be nice. Thanks.”
The place you’d order from back when you lived in the dorms is actually closer to this apartment than campus, which is the most beautiful, serendipitous thing that’s ever happened in your life. You place the order for delivery and continue putting your books away. Once all the books are on shelves, you’re essentially done - finally, after two days - unpacking. 
This gives you exactly one whole day to relax before you have to start going to classes again.
Taehyung arrives before the pizza, knocking on the door in a silly rhythm. You pound back on your side of the door, echoing his rhythm, before opening it, greeting him with a big smile. You’d missed him; of course you had.
“Wow,” he says, genuinely impressed, as he peers around you. “It looks so much different in here.”
“Right?” you ask, filled with joy. Taehyung pokes his head into the kitchen, which is arguably the least “ready” room, as aside from putting your things into drawers and cupboards, neither you nor Namjoon had really done much to it. No hand-towels hanging by the sink, no magnets on the fridge, even the counters were empty, save for the two sets of keys resting there. Taehyung adds his own to the key pile and moves into the living room, which is much more impressive.
“Hey, man,” Namjoon says from the floor. It seems like he’s done sorting his books into piles and has started actually putting them on shelves now. “Looks good, right?”
“It does,” Taehyung answers from the doorway of Namjoon’s room, where he's peeking nosily. “The guys helped you?”
“Everyone except you and Jimin,” Namjoon says innocently. 
Taehyung smiles guiltily. “I helped Y/N the entire day before, just the two of us,” he argues. “And what about Hobi? He’s on--”
“--on vacation with his parents,” Namjoon finishes agreeably, “so he’s off the hook. Where was Jimin?”
“Where do you think Jimin was?” Taehyung scoffs, reaching down and touching the rug absently.
“Sleeping,” you and Namjoon say at the same time, both of your voices wry. You smile at him, and he looks away. 
The pizza arrives and you all sit around the coffee table to eat. Conversation flows better with Taehyung in the mix; he talks so much, it almost doesn’t matter if anyone else does. 
“I was thinking of making a list of things we need for the apartment that wouldn’t necessarily belong to either of us - cleaning supplies, stuff like that,” Namjoon says to you. “I thought I could buy it and we could split the cost?”
“Buy the cheap stuff,” Taehyung advises. “Y/N’s summer money is gonna go fast, especially the way she orders out instead of cooking.”
“Thank you, Taehyung,” you say flatly, shooting him a look. “I start work in like two days. I can handle it.”
After the pizza’s done, Namjoon goes back to working on his bookshelf, obviously wanting to clear the floorspace of his book piles sooner rather than later. You and Taehyung sprawl across the couch opposite each other, his feet resting near your elbow, both of you on your phones. 
You stay like that until nearly midnight, talking occasionally but mostly just happily coexisting in your own little bubbles. At some point, Namjoon finishes the bookshelf and wanders into his bedroom, pausing to look at you two on the couch before disappearing. He pushes his door almost shut, leaving it open a few inches. You hear the subtle sounds of music playing from behind the door, but not loud enough to discern what it is. 
Taehyung hugs you before leaving, and you snuggle into the embrace, body exhausted from the moving process. He rests his chin on top of your head, swaying you around a little bit. 
“Thanks for helping me,” you murmur into his chest. Sometimes the only time you can get Taehyung to be serious for a conversation is when you’re like this; in each other’s arms, your walls come down - in his case, deflecting with humor and sarcasm, brushing off everything like it’s a big joke. In yours, saying what you really mean, and not a more delicate version of it.
“You’re welcome,” he answers, squeezing you a little. “I’m glad everything worked out. It really does look good in here. And I think you guys will get along.” 
Once he leaves, you deadbolt the front door and head to the kitchen to wash the plates and cups you’d used for pizza. Behind you, you hear the squeak of door hinges, and Namjoon pads into the kitchen behind you. He pauses, scanning the cupboards.
“I don’t remember which one I put my cups in,” he laughs a little, and then starts opening each one until he finds what he needs. Once he has a glass, he rummages in the fridge, taking out a juice carton and filling his glass about halfway. You finish washing the last plate and turn the water off, rummaging through a drawer for a dish towel to dry everything.  
“So…” Namjoon says between sips of juice. “You two are pretty close, huh?”
“Yeah,” you say, shrugging easily. “He’s my best friend.”
Namjoon hums, nods, purses his lips thoughtfully. If you knew him better, you’d push - ask him what that face means, or why he’d asked in the first place. 
But, you don’t need to. You know already. You’re used to being interrogated by others about your relationship with Taehyung. Sometimes people are trying to see if you’re a threat in their quest to worm their way into Taehyung’s heart (or pants) - and in your own weird way, you kind of are, at least for the former. 
Taehyung definitely sleeps around, but he’s surprisingly tight-lipped with you about it. You’re not sure if he’s sparing you, or he’s actually just a gentleman. Could go either way. But when Taehyung considers dating someone - rare, to say the least - he always has you vet them first. You never like any of them, surprise surprise. 
You’re used to girls approaching you in bathrooms, sometimes aggressively, sometimes meekly, to ask if Taehyung’s your boyfriend. You’ve had girls come apologize, saying they “didn’t know about you”. Once you’d had a girl nearly shove you down a staircase for talking to “her man”, but luckily, said man was walking next to you and helped shut the whole thing down. (You two had had a serious talk after that one about communicating with his partners about his relationship status. Things have never gone that far again, to date.)
Less frequently, you’ll get asked about Taehyung by guys who are interested in you, who are trying to figure out how much of a lost cause it is. That one’s a little trickier. How do you tell the cute guy at the coffee shop that no, you’re not dating Taehyung, but you are secretly so in love with him that it really isn’t worth their time? 
Anyway, usually you just tell guys that you’re not dating Taehyung but that you’re not interested in dating anyone. It usually does the trick. It’s not that far from the truth, either.
That leaves the last category of people who ask about you two, and this is where you feel Namjoon falls: the people who watch your weird, boundary-pushing friendship and are just genuinely curious how it could possibly work. 
And you get it, you really do. You know how this looks from the outside. Hell, you’re sure that from the outside it’s fairly obvious how gone you are for him. Is it just as obvious to the outside that he sees you more like a sister than anything datable? 
Probably.
You’ve had friends ask you what keeps you around. You always say the same thing - regardless of your feelings for him, he’s also your absolute best friend.
Your friendship is precious to you, sacred. It sometimes feels like the only thing you have, in a life where you generally don’t have much. Your family is Lin - that’s it, end of the road. Your girlfriends are nice, but Penny was the closest you had and she’s across the country now. You only have Taehyung. And what you have with him, as special as it is, it’s also precarious. 
If you lose him, it isn’t just that you’ll lose him - and trust, that would be devastating - it’s also that you would be deeply alone. 
Finished with the dishes, you bid Namjoon goodnight and head back into your room for the night, planning to change into pajamas and wait for Taehyung to text you that he made it home safely, wait for Taehyung to text you goodnight. Namjoon murmurs goodnight, but you feel his calculating gaze on your back until you close your door softly behind you.
Next ->
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Thank you so much for reading! I started writing this in August, it feels amazing to finally postttttt. Please consider some type of feedback - I'd love to hear anything you want to share! Section II will post on Friday, January 27th - hope to see you there!
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xattexx · 1 year
Text
Fucking attitude out of you
pairing: Y/N x Namjoon
genre: smut
warning: NSFW, Minor out!
a/n: I personally feel like idk how to write a good smut but this was in my head for few days. I will try to write something better. Please don't mind mistakes.
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Having attitude was not very common for you and when you had it was because Namjoon had done something that made you angry. So now, what made you angry? His little mistake? Namjoon was thinking about you when you two were watching TV late at night. Usually you were next to each other, so why are you so far away? The whole afternoon you are puffing out air, not talking to him properly, just having sour expression. What is your problem?
As if you knew he wanted to start conversation, you stand up and said “I am going to take a shower and go to bed.” It was not his fault you had crazy day in work and when you came home, you got to know he forgot to go buy groceries so you could cook something. That was enough for today. Since then you didn’t said even a word. Too much for you. Namjoon was always in work and so did you. You didn’t bother him when working, just one time he had a day off and you wanted one thing from him, he forgets? It is childish to be angry for this but today is not the day. You just craved hot shower, washing the day off and go to bed.
While you were in shower Namjoon called the only man you were close friend with and that was Jimin. He could know what is the problem. He always had a good tips.
Jimin: “So she has an attitude?”
Joon: “Yeah but I don’t know why? I mean I know but just because I… it is childish reason.”
Jimin: “Hyung, you should fuck the attitude out. Trust me. Sounds like it. It doesn’t need a reason.”
Jungkook in the back: “YES! Fuck the attitude out.”
Joon: “Jungkook what are you doing there? Did you heard? Fuck…” he had said as he was massaging his forehead. “Ok thank you, enjoy the rest of the evening boys.
Jimin: “You too hyung~”
As he end the call he though.. Could it be? When was the last time you had sex? Both of you drowned in work. This actually makes sense. Fuck just thinking about you having sex is making him hard. How could he neglect you like this? Namjoon let his imagination run wild. His hand palming his dick. He was so sensitive. So in his thoughts that he didn’t the shower end.
….After shower….
You felt… like nothing changed. You hoped that shower will help to relax but it didn’t. This made you even more irritated. One thing you wanted to be nice didn’t work out. You had finished your routine harshly and went to bed. Maybe scrolling though videos would make you better.
That’s when Namjoon came to the bed. Thank God he took shower before so now he only had to go to bed. To you. Immediately he could smell you. And trust me, you smelled awesome to him. So nice.
Your back turned towards him but the way your body was screaming, unknowingly, to touch you. How can you make him still that crazy for you? The way that your ass is curved more to him. He was internally cursing and biting his lip.
Namjoon puts a hand on your hip. The goosebumps rose around your body. He was sliding his hand up and down on your thigh. Videos forgotten as you had your eyes closed. Feeling like your skin was burning. The breathing irregular. It was when he started to run his fingers on your inner thigh when your turned around to lay on your back.
“Joon? What are you doing?” you breathed out.
“Finally talking to me?” He smirked as he started rubbing your clit through your panties. Namjoon put put panties aside. As soon as he touches you, you moaned out his name. His favourite melody. He started sliding his fingers up and down from your hole to your clit and back. Slowly enjoying you. Spreading the wetness all over your pussy.
“So fucking wet for me and I barely touch you.” Joon whisper into your ear. You tried to hide in his chest, but he put you back on your back and laid between your legs. Spreading them just for him. Noticing your aroused nipples, he kissed you while his wet fingers travel from your pussy to play with your nips. As soon as he started twisting them, pinching them you moaned into the kiss. Your back arching to show your tits even more. He broke the kiss. Slowly kissing you down until his mouth found your other nipple so his hand can get back to work down there. This time just not teasing you. Namjoon put his long fingers inside you. Curving them inside. At a slow pace taking his time to play with your soft spot. Your toes curling from pleasure.
Too much, this was too much. You needed him. You needed to be filled. Stretch even more. “Joon please, please, I need you inside.” It was the feeling you craved. The burning sensation from stretching your walls. Adapting to him. Pulsation inside your pussy. And when he did, oh when he did, you could swear you could cum just from him putting his dick inside.
“Where is that attitude of yours now hmm?” He said as he trusted hard inside you. Just once and hard. “Where is that angry Y/N of mine?” He trusted again. Same force. Making you feel electricity running through your body. Your eyes already closed. Namjoon just kissed you and let himself work. Jimin said fuck the attitude out so he will.
Namjoon started trusting in and out of you. Enjoying all the sounds that your pussy was making. It was the wet squelching sounds. Nothing else heard in room just him and your body, and both of you moaning. His mouth slightly opened, eyes on you. Carving in his memory your look, the pleasure on your face.
“Please, stop clenching. I won’t last if you will clench around me.” He had to stop for a second. Immediately kissing you, taking a break from the emotions you both felt, your bodies worshipping each other. His hand travel beneath your leg and lift it on his shoulder. Giving him even more room and easier access to your g-spot. He started trusting into you again. The new position making him go wild. His thumb found your clit. It was too much for you, the way he was hitting your g-spot and playing with your bungle of nerves.
“Joon.. joon I am gonna.. I am gonna…” before you finished your sentence your orgasm hit you like a truck. Carving your nails into Namjoon’s shoulders, your pussy tightening around him and pulsing. He gave you a second to calm down. Your head was empty. Just you and him. Nothing else.
“Baby, let me finish.” He said as he started trusting inside you. The after pleasure making you moan even louder than before. Fucking you though your post orgasm feeling. It took few strokes for him to cum inside. The best way how to finish by his opinion. Giving you a little reminder what your anger leads to.
He laid on you. Lazily making out with you. It was that what made you wanna stay like this forever. But him as a real man, he got up to clean you both up. As you tried to stand up, your legs started shaking. Your toilet was not far away but clearly you needed help. When Namjoon saw you struggling he smiled and scooped you into his arms. Taking you to bathroom, he knew you need to pee and clean yourself. As you were in his arms you felt an urge to apologize. “I am sorry for today and how I treated you. The work sucked today and…”
“I am sorry for not noticing and neglecting you in all ways.” Kissing your forehead, he put you down and got you new pair of undies and shirt while you got shower ready. Another one today but after the cardio you both have? Shower was needed. The whole evening was needed.
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phenomenalgirl9 · 7 months
Text
Namjoon x Reader: Fast Forward
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Summary: How many lovers do I go through to find you, how many heartbreaks do I take just to get to you.. If I could just... Fast Forward.
A/n: Happy Birthday 🎂 to the man who has been my motivation and inspiration. Happy birthday Kim Namjoon 🎉.
W/c: 704
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The moment your eyes had made all those years ago you knew this wasn't just a friendship. You couldn't be just friends with Kim Namjoon. However you fooled yourself into believing that you could. You tried your best to be friends with him for a long time. Truthfully speaking, so did he, and it was difficult for him. But the two of you were too dumb to take the risk to take the first step. 
You both stood there watching the other date, and eventually got hurt. It would keep happening, one would start dating, get hurt and the other would be there to pick the pieces. You were always there to pick the other up. Namjoom was always there when you needed him. When you felt lonely, it was like he just knew. He could read you like an open book, one look at your face and he'd know you're hurting. Whereas, you were the one who kept Namjoon grounded, when he over worked himself, your voice of reason pulled him back to reality. 
However, you were tired of dating and meeting people. Yes, overhearing your other "friends" talk about your inability to hold on to a partner, had nothing to do with it. You simply didn't want to have to go through this process again and again. And you didn't want to end up alone ( of course it also had nothing to do with the fact that you thought that Namjoon would never feel anything for you). So you tried to hold on even if it left you scars. Even if Namjoon begged you multiple times to leave that toxic sorry ass of a person. 
But you couldn't change the fact that he never tried the way Namjoon did. He never made you feel the way Namjoon did. Like when you were down and he took you out on a bicycle ride by the river. Or when you both had free time so decided to visit the skating rink and he held your hand as you wobbled around. The feeling of Namjoon tightly securing his arms around you and his smell fills your senses and numbs your bad thoughts and doubts. Nobody could make your heart flutter the way Namjoon did by just remembering your drinks orders down to details, minding what you're allergic to or what you like. Nobody offered to exchange the plate if you liked the other's dish a bit too much. And so Namjoon is just Namjoon. 
____________________________________
"How long will you watch her be broken time and again?" Yoongi's question came straight and sharp when Namjoon sat on his couch. 
"I don't know hyung? What can I do?" He said, shrugging helplessly. Like every time you held that asshole's hand his heart didn't die a little. Like he never felt like ripping you away from that guy's side and kissing the hell out of you. Did he really pretend to be okay when he hugged you, nonchalant to the way you fitted into his arms so right? 
"You can't let her suffer, especially when you're suffering equally. Even I feel pain at the misery of you two" the older said "isn't it worth it if it makes you two happy?".
Those words thus rang inside his head when he set off for your apartment a few evenings later. "Y/n I-" "I broke up with him" you said interrupting him. And he doesn't know if it was the look in your eyes or the way your lip quivered or Yoongi's word but all his dams broke. He pulled you by your waist and crashed his lips onto yours. He poured every feeling he had, every word he could say to you all these years into this kiss. And you kissed him back, receiving every word reciprocating every feeling and desire. 
"You're so worth it," he replied against your mouth.
"We're so dumb" you mumbled to him that night as you traced imaginary lines on his bare chest. "All this time, we could have just fast forwarded to each other and saved ourselves the heartbreaks" you pouted.
"We're here now, right? We're here to stay" he mumbled as he played with your hair, lulling you to sleep. 
_____________________________________
Other Works
Taglist: @bbl32 @back2bluesidex @cherryblossom-2004
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allora1233 · 1 year
Text
𝕁𝕖𝕒𝕝𝕠𝕦𝕤𝕪: ℕ𝕒𝕞𝕛𝕠𝕠𝕟 𝕩 ℝ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕖𝕣
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𝔽𝕝𝕦𝕗𝕗
ℕ𝕒𝕞𝕛𝕠𝕠𝕟 𝕚𝕟𝕧𝕚𝕥𝕖𝕤 𝕐/ℕ 𝕥𝕠 𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘 𝕠𝕦𝕥 𝕨𝕚𝕥𝕙 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕘𝕦𝕪𝕤 𝕨𝕙𝕚𝕝𝕖 𝕜𝕖𝕖𝕡𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖𝕚𝕣 𝕣𝕖𝕝𝕒𝕥𝕚𝕠𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕡 𝕒 𝕤𝕖𝕔𝕣𝕖𝕥.
Word Count: 2.4k
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"Come oooon Y/n, it'll be fun! Just a small hang out sesh. No cameras, none of that. All the guys will be there. I promise you're gonna love it!" 
You sighed softly, pinching the bridge of your nose as you listened to probably the 5th plea today from your boyfriend, Kim Namjoon. The two of you have been dating for about 5 months now, but since he was in such a popular music group, you two decided to keep your relationship a secret. You never told anyone, even the friends he was in the band with, and you were honestly okay with keeping it that way for a little while longer. However, Namjoon couldn't be more of the opposite.
Namjoon cherishes his friends almost as much as he cherishes you. He is very proud of what they've become since they first got together. They are basically his second family. It would be an absolute dream for him to see his best friends and the love of his life meet each other and get along. Not to mention that he takes great pride in you and would show you off to the entire world if he could. You know this almost as much as he does.
Truthfully, the problem for you wasn't that you wouldn't like them or a fear of getting found out. Namjoon has already told you plenty of stories about them, and the videos they post online of their daily life pretty much confirm that you'd love to hang out with them. You were more afraid of the possibility that the others wouldn't like you. You've heard all about the infamous "V Test" and you had a strong feeling you wouldn't pass that, or the other guys' judgment tests for that matter.
"Joon, please. I'm really not sure if I want the others to know I'm your significant other yet. I know how much they mean to you, and I don't want to intrude... especially if they don't approve of me. Besides, what if someone outside of them sees us? As much as I love your fans, you know how some of them can get. I don't want to put either of us, or the guys, in that kind of situation..."
Your boyfriend was quick to silence your concerns with his reassurance. "I understand baby, I really do, but no one will know. I promise I'll do everything in my power to make sure no one recognizes either of us before we get there. I know plenty of tricks to get us there safely. Furthermore, I'm not asking you to tell the guys who you are to me. We can just say we're friends. But I really just want you to meet them at least. They're really cool and they'll love you, trust me."
Namjoon gently takes your hand in his, lifting it up to press soft kisses to your knuckles. You couldn't help but melt a little at his tender touch. He looks back up at you and smiles. "At least think about it, okay? If you still don't want to when I leave tomorrow then I'll drop it." Even though you knew it would mean the world to him if you tagged along, you were still very grateful that he was also willing to wait until you were ready. You nod, returning the smile. "I will. Thank you."
And indeed you did. It kept you up a little later than you usually would stay up, outweighing the pros and cons of finally going out and introducing yourself to Namjoon's friends. After a long night, you turn over and cuddle close to the already asleep popstar, finally finding yourself drifting off to sleep content with your decision.
- - -
"I'll go."
The way Namjoon's face lights up at your words makes you feel even more sure of your decision. You'd have to meet his friends eventually, right? So just go for it. Besides, as long as you were with him, you knew everything would be okay.
Your boyfriend wraps his arms around your waist, pulling you in a tight hug from behind as you finish making your breakfast. "Thank you baby. I promise you won't regret this. But if you do ever want to go home, just tell me and I'll take you back, okay?" You nod as he pecks a few chaste kisses against your cheek, which elicits a giggle out of you. After the two of you finished your breakfast and got dressed for the day, you both head out to a studio where you were meeting today. Apparently it belonged to one of his friends, Yoongi if you remember right.
You were a little nervous, and even though Namjoon texted the guys ahead of time and told them he'd bring a guest with him, you couldn't help but gently squeeze his hand anxiously. He looks down at you and offers you a gentle smile, one that helps you ground yourself before you spiral down a path of anxiety. It doesn't take much longer before the two of you are standing in the building of the studio.
After going up a level of stairs and down a hallway, you find yourself in front of a door. "Min Yoongi" was on a plaque that hung on the door. You turn to Namjoon, who looks around the hallway to make sure the coast is clear before giving you a quick, reassuring kiss. It definitely helps. After taking one deep breath, you open the door and walk in.
- - -
Out of everyone you met, the one person you definitely hit it off with was Jin. The two of you had been talking since the moment you walked in. Admittedly, it was partially due to the fact that during your viewings of the Run BTS episodes, you knew for a fact that you wanted to talk to Jin. The way he tries to keep respect because he's the oldest while also being one of the most childish people in the group was absolutely adorable and hilarious. Which, in its own way, is funny considering how much of a parental figure he really is to the rest of them, especially the three youngest. And it really seemed like he enjoyed your company too. Not like everyone else didn't, in fact, they were all really sweet and funny guys.
It has been a couple hours now since you arrived. You and Jin were practically attached at the hip, joking about anything with the others, making fun of the guys when they do something stupid, and just generally having a good time. It was such a relief that they made you feel comfortable. It didn’t feel like you had hijacked their group and added yourself in; you are a part of the group now. And Jin was especially accommodating.
After a while of hanging, you were getting a little hungry. Jin notices you staring at the empty candy bowl on the table for just a little bit too long. “You alright? Do you need anything to eat?” You look up at him and smile. “Oh, yeah. That would be nice. Thank you.” Jin smiles and gets up to grab you some snacks. In that moment by yourself, you decide to check up on your boyfriend. You didn't mean to go this long without saying something to him, but things just turned out that way. As you looked over to him, you noticed that he looked a little off. Namjoon was slightly slouched in his chair, arms folded over his chest as he listened in on Yoongi and Jimin's conversation, the corners of his pretty lips turned down into a frown.
Before you could catch his attention and ask him if he was alright, Jin came back from the kitchen with a nice assortment of snacks, sitting back down next to you. “Thanks, Jin.” You reach out to the table and grab one of the snack bars. Jin nods as he leans back on the couch. "So, how long have you and Joon known each other? We usually know most of the other guy's outside friends and we've never heard from you before."
"Yeah, well we only met a couple months ago. I guess that it just never came up. But he invited me to come out here today, and I'm very thankful that you guys have seemed to accept me into your group." Jin smiles and runs a hand through his hair, fixing the stray strands. "You're a really amazing person Y/n, of course we'd let you hang out! I'm glad he brought you. It's no wonder you and Namjoon became friends. Hopefully we can all get to know you as well as he does." You couldn't help but laugh a little under your breath, knowing no one was gonna know you as well as Namjoon does. "I'm glad you feel that way. I'm really looking forward to hanging out with you guys more, if that's okay." 
"Of course that's okay! I love having you around, and I'm sure the others do too. You make a very nice addition to our little group. Your personality really lights up the room and you're nice to talk to, not to mention you're easy on the eyes." He winks. You laugh, pushing Jin's shoulder who simply laughs along with you.
"Dork! Flattery will get you nowhere. Not that I don't appreciate it." Jin shrugs, a knowing smirk on his lips. A loud groan grabs the attention of both of you, looking up at a clearly amused Jimin. "Get a room! Some of us want to talk in peace." He jokes as he shoves Jin to you, causing him to lose his balance and land with his head on your lap. More laughter erupts from the two of you as you roll your eyes and turn your head away from the others.
It was only at that moment that you actually got to steal a glance at Namjoon again. It didn't take a genius to realize that he wasn’t happy, except, you have never seen that kind of expression on his face before. You could see him biting the inside of his cheek and the line forming between his furrowed brows. He looks... bitter? No, no it's not that. More like he’s spiteful about something. Like he's trying to bite his tongue and keep himself composed, but the way he keeps clenching and relaxing his fists clearly shows otherwise.
He sees you looking at him, obviously confused by his demeanor, and simply rolls his eyes. He stands up and calmly walks out of the room. Honestly, that hurt you a little bit. He's never acted like this before, especially not towards you. You look around at the others, but no one seems to have noticed Namjoon’s exit nor how upset he seems to be. Without thinking, you gently lift Jin's head from your lap and get up off the couch to follow Namjoon outside the room, granting you some eyebrow raise from the others, especially Jin.
You walk out into the hallway, looking around before noticing your boyfriend leaning against the wall around the corner, back facing towards you. Cautiously, you walk up to him, keeping your voice quiet so as to not startle him. "Joon..? Hey, what's wrong? Why'd you leave-" Before you could finish your sentence, Namjoon turns around and quickly pulls you into a deep kiss. You squeak, not quite expecting the sudden affection. Before you could do anything in response, he pulled away, resting his forehead against your shoulder.
"Sorry, I just really needed that right now." You wrap your arms around him, gently playing with his hair. "Hey, it's okay honey. I’m just worried about you... Can you tell me what you're so upset about?" Your boyfriend looks up at you dumbfounded. "You really don't know...? You didn't see it?" You shake your head, brows furrowed in confusion. Namjoon shakes his head and lets out a breathy laugh, almost like he was relieved. "Jin's been flirting with you all day." It takes you a second to process what he said before you feel your face heat up in realization.
"What..? No, no he was just being nice. I just thought he was like that with everyone... Are you sure?" Namjoon laughs again before gently kissing your forehead. "Yes baby, I'm positive. Everyone saw it." You bury your face in your boyfriend's chest, hiding your shame. The fact that all of it went over your head made you feel like an idiot. "Oh my God, I'm so fucking stupid..."
"No, no you're not. And actually, I'm glad you didn't notice. It makes me feel a bit better." Now it was your turn to look up at him bewildered. "Why would that make you feel better?" 
"Uh... I may or may not have gotten a little jealous of you two." As soon as he says that, all the little dots slowly start connecting in your mind. "Really?" Namjoon sighs softly and rubs the back of his neck. "Yeah, and I really started to get frustrated at everything and myself. I didn't know I could feel that way, but I guess I'm just a protective person. Especially when it comes to you, baby. I'll do absolutely anything for you and to make you happy and keep you close to me." You couldn't help but smile at that last part. "And I was also mad at myself because I knew it wasn't yours or Jin's fault. It's not like we told anyone about us so I can't blame him for hitting on you, I'd do the same if we weren't already together. And I know you’d never do something like that to me. I just didn't like feeling angry at one of my best friends... I'm sorry. I was the one who said everything would be okay and now I'm messing things up."
You smile, gently wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him down for another soft kiss to let him know that everything was okay now. "So, that's why you were upset when you left, hmm?" Namjoon looks up at you and nods. "And is that why you kissed me like that when I followed you out here?" You tease, finding the whole situation quite amusing. He nods again, this time a little more sheepishly.
You coo at your boyfriend's embarrassment, leaning up and kissing his cheek. "You’re too cute. If you wanted a moment all to ourselves, you could have just asked honey.~" You wink, very satisfied with the flustered reaction you got. It wasn't hard to see the rose color that bloomed up on his cheeks, and his sudden speechlessness always made you giggle. You gently grab his hand and squeeze it, bringing him back down to Earth. "Come on, let's go back. We can't keep everyone waiting forever."
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mykoreanlove · 2 months
Text
sexy brain wasn’t having it
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3.25 am.
Once again Namjoon lay awake at night, anticipating the next disaster. His thoughts were racing, fueling the anxiety that was rooted deep in his heart.
„Joon“, you mumbled sleepily as you twisted in his arms.
You calling him caught him by surprise, a welcomed yet unnecessary surprise.
„Why are you awake, love?“, he whispered in his deep raspy voice.
You chuckled as you patted his buff chest. „Well Sherlock, my precious darling is awake so I can’t sleep either.“
Namjoon smiled widely as he placed a sweet kiss on your forehead.
„Sorry.“
„Is something on your mind?“
He sighed, not really knowing how to articulate his thoughts.
„Do you remember when I told you about my ex? The one that cheated on me?“
You nodded silently.
„Do you also remember the girl that shot daggers at you when I took you out to dinner two days ago?“
„The one with the crazy eyes?“
A sad laugh escaped his lips. „Yeah. Actually, same person.“
„No way“, you gasped, suddenly fully awake. „Why didn’t you tell me?“
„Honestly? She did some crazy things back then so I just wanted to forget her. I don’t want you to be near her. Ever.“
You tightened your grip around your boyfriend, deeply touched by his concern for you.
„You really care about me, huh?“
„Slightly“, he bickered back, making the both of you laugh.
„Are you afraid that she’s gonna do something to us?“
Namjoon closed his eyes and sighed deeply. „I expect her to.“
You drew circles on his chest, hoping this would make him calm down and drift off to sleep. It seemed like it worked, until it didn’t.
Frantic sounds alerted you both, someone was ringing the bell like crazy.
„Namjoon. Namjoon!! Open up, please.“
Her whines were slurred and chaotic. You felt him tense under your touch, unsure what to do.
„Just ignore her, Joonie. I’m sure she’s gonna leave in a minute.“
„Joon!! God damn it, Joon!!! Open the fucking door!“
Namjoon debated if he should get up, but he also feared hurting you. Suddenly, the door flung open revealing a very bad tempered Jungkook.
„Hyung, please. Go talk to her. I can’t sleep and I can’t keep listening to her begging for you. I beg you talk to that lunatic.“
You squeezed Namjoon‘s hand, encouraging him to go.
„I love you“, he whispered in your ear.
„I know“, you stuck out your tongue.
„Namjoon, fucking rap monster open this door no-„
Namjoon‘s ex swallowed her tongue as she actually succeeded with her plan - her ex was standing before her, ready to listen to her tantrum.
„Joon“, she tried hugging him but he pushed her away.
„You know what time it is?“
She nodded her head, slightly ashamed. „Joon, I am sorry but I need to talk to you. Breaking up was the worst idea we ever had.“
He rolled his eyes at her, trying to stay calm.
„Cheating on me was even dumber if you ask me.“
„I never“, she tried to defend herself but bit her tongue as she saw the hurt in his eyes.
„I’m sorry. What I did was wrong. It’s just, I couldn’t handle our love back then. You’re such a grown up and I.. I am a mess.“
Flashbacks of all the tantrums she created flashed his mind. She always argued with him, accusing him of the most disrespectful shit. Looking back he could simply laugh about this, wondering how the hell he kept up with her frantics for so long. He didn’t care about the past, nor her anymore. He only cared about you.
„I call you a cab“, he stated sternly.
„NO!“
Namjoon sighed in annoyance.
„What do you want from me? Why are you here? Do you honestly think I’d take you back? After all you put me through?“
„Why not? Because of that bitch?“, she spat out.
His nostrils flared up instantly. Namjoon would never resolve a conflict with violence, especially not with a female. He’d rather contort to hurting one emotionally.
„I don’t want you to talk about my girlfriend like that. Ever again. Understood?“
„That should be me! I’m supposed to be your girl, Joon. Don’t you remember how great we were?“
„Nah“, he replied dryly.
His ex scoffed, too many blows to her ego. „Oh please, I’ve seen her. Since when do you date someone so basic? She’s half of me anyways.“
Namjoon took out his phone and ordered a cab, making an end to this nonsense.
„What are you doing? Joon, listen to me! She’s not the one for you, can’t you see?“
He raised his left brow, holding back what he truly felt.
„She’s average. Basic. Boring. I think you should dump her. I think you should get back together with me. I think you and I should become Korea‘s hottest couple and live a beautiful life together. I think I am the love of your life!“
A real, heartfelt laugh left his lips. His ex‘ eyes widened in expectation, anticipating her victory over you.
Namjoon however disagreed.
„Thank you for telling me what you think. I however, don’t think about you. At all.“
He turned around and went inside, hoping to never end up in a situation like that ever again.
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