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#bts rm angst
eoieopda · 1 year
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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.
2K notes · View notes
magicshopaholic · 2 months
Text
Moving On (Namjoon x OC)
Summary: BTS performs in Amsterdam and Namjoon invites you to the afterparty.
Pairing: Namjoon x OC
Genre: Angst, smut
Word count: 8.2K
Rating: 18+
Warnings: language, angst, sex, nudity, making out, fingering, cumming, arguing,
A/N: Takes place a little over a month after Final Destination.
Tagging: @bbl32, @quarter-life-crisis2,  @margopinkerton, @faearchives,  @whoisbts, @purpleseoul7, @sumzysworld, @kflixnet (if you want to be added to the taglist, lmk)
Listen to: "where does the good go" by tegan and sara
namjoon masterlist | main masterlist
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Joon [13:45] Did you get the email from Big Hit?
Kaya [13:50] Yes
Joon [13:51] The number at the end is their London office. They’ve been briefed already and have additional security available for all European locations.
Kaya [13:54] Okay
There’s a break in the chat here. Kaya stares at the time stamp, trying to picture him scrambling to find something else to say.
Joon [14:15] The company managed to track down the account that uploaded the video. Account has been taken down and they’ve sued for invasion of privacy.
Kaya [14:20] Okay 
Joon [14:22] They’ve also offered to add damages to the suit, in case we want that. Do you?
Kaya [14:25] Not really
Joon [14:26] Okay then
Another break. Kaya scans the time stamps again, even though she’s memorised it by now. She remembers the three dots indicating him typing, seeing them appear and disappear over and over again. 
Joon [14:40] How are you?
Kaya [14:45] Fine
Joon [14:46] How‘s work?
Kaya [14:48] Fine
Joon [14:50] Kaya I’m trying
Kaya [14:51] Class starting, got to go
He hadn’t responded and she hadn’t expected him to. Four days post break-up hadn’t been nearly long enough for her to let go of her anger but now, four weeks in, it’s only been replaced with an equal amount of sadness and longing.
Every conversation has been exactly this terse and abrupt, the last one being a week ago. It had appeared when she’d been teaching an elective class and it had taken every ounce of her will to not check it until the class ended. As it turned out, she couldn’t even think of a decent response to it.
“How can he possibly think of asking me this?” Kaya mutters, earphones in as she walks home. It’s dusk, a gorgeous time of the day, but she holds no appreciation for it right now.
“Wouldn’t it be worse if he didn’t ask?” Dilara asks reasonably. She’s in her car by the sound of it, a low hum audible of whichever fancy car of hers she’s decided to take out today.
Kaya swallows, pondering this. It might be, but it doesn’t address the problem she’s too embarrassed to voice out loud: it should be harder for him to ask. The thought that he might not be taking this break-up as hard as she is kills something inside of her, as if she’d misunderstood everything in the last three years. 
Her strategy to save herself from hearing the truth had been to distance herself from everyone, including Yoongi, who had texted her out of the blue one day to ask her if she was okay (she hadn’t responded); Seokjin, who seemed to skirt the topic altogether and sounded as though he was speaking to someone very sick; and especially Dilara, who Kaya knew would be the only one with the capacity to ask insightful questions that she herself was too afraid to.
“It’s just… strange,” is all she can manage. “He hopped on a flight, shot a few emails, came over and broke up with me and then went right back to his schedule, all in one day. And now he's inviting me to a party?"
“After-party, so it won’t be, like… crazy,” Dilara clarifies. “And the concert before it.” 
“I’m definitely not going to his concert.”
“Of course not,” she agrees breezily. “I wouldn’t expect you to. But the party… I mean, it’s a good thing, isn’t it? He doesn’t want you to be strangers.”
Kaya slows down as she approaches the river. She’s taken the long route home today - anything to prolong the commute before another night in her tainted apartment with memories on every surface.
“I don’t know if I want to see him.” I don’t know if I can. “He wants to see me, though, apparently,” she states after a moment.
Dilara doesn’t say anything for a few seconds. “I mean -“ She begins before pausing, then trying again. “I’m sure it’s going to be torture for him to see you. But even that’s better than not seeing you.”
Kaya doesn’t even realise she’d been holding her breath; she exhales as slowly as possible so as to not make a sound, both at Dilara’s words as well as her answering the unasked question.
She doesn’t respond immediately, though. Now that they’re down this route of addressing concerns she’s been harbouring in her heart for weeks, Kaya feels the rest of them on the verge of tumbling out of her mouth.
"You've seen him a bit these last couple of months,” she ventures, lowering her voice and leaning backwards against the railing overlooking the river. “Does it seem like he misses me at all?"
Dilara hums, a little too knowingly for Kaya’s liking. “Of course, he does. He’s not the most expressive when it comes to his feelings but aside from Tae last year, I don't think I've met a more miserable person."
Kaya waits for the swell of happiness or relief at this news, but all it brings with it is a new wave of anger and frustration.
“Thanks.”
"Look, speaking from experience, it's not easy seeing your ex after a difficult break-up,” says Dilara, sighing. “But sometimes you don't realise just how much you needed to see them until you see them, even if it's just to gain some closure."
Closure. It sounds… final. Kaya can’t picture it, being virtual strangers eventually, just bits of each other’s past. Ex-boyfriend, girl of his dreams, the one that got away. She hates all those words because they just don’t apply, not really. They can’t.
She closes her eyes and presses the heel of her palms into them to intercept the wetness forming, not caring that Dilara is still on the other end of the line. She and Namjoon had stood right here, years ago, living in the bliss of a new couple in fresh love. He’d brought her a bunch of tiny yellow flowers from the park, part-cheesy and part-genuine, eyes twinkling and dimples soft.
Kaya squeezes her eyes shut at the memory, terrified at how the edges of it are already blurring. 
“I don’t think I’ll go,” she murmurs, opening her eyes to stare at the ground. “I can’t.” 
“Are you sure?” Dilara sounds slightly surprised.
“Yeah. Two days from now is… it’s too soon. I’ll either cry or yell or… I don’t know. It’s too hard.”
“Oh.” She’s quiet for a few seconds. “Okay. If you’re sure. Let me know if you want to get together on Sunday,” she adds. “Brunch or something.”
“Yeah, sure. Thanks.”
The next day, Kaya is in the library again, grading papers and wishing she could go back to being a grad student who’s biggest problem was a pop quiz. She’s deliberately chosen a table at the back, away from where the students generally sit, which is why she looks up in surprise when someone comes to her table.
“H-hi, Kaya.” The student waves rests one hand on the back of an empty hair and waves hesitantly with the other.
“Um… hi.” Kaya tries not to frown too conspicuously, for she’s sure she knows this girl. 
Svetlana. Savannah. 
“Elena, right?”
“Yeah,” she answers with a nervous smile. “Um… are you busy?”
Kaya glances at the stacks of papers, books and laptop on the table. “Kind of, yeah.”
“Okay. Well… I just wanted to say hi.”
Kaya nods awkwardly and forces a small smile on her face. “Hi.”
Elena nods, tucking her hair behind her ears. She looks like she’s about to leave but at the last moment, sits down at the table. Kaya feels her smile fade for she really, really wants to be alone right now.
“How - how are things going?” She sounds nervous - extremely so. She seems to be fidgeting slightly and constantly touching her hair. 
“Great,” says Kaya shortly, going back to her paper and hoping she’ll take the hint. “You?”
“Not bad, overall. I guess. Classes are hard and mid-terms are coming up as well…” Elena trails off. “Any plans for the weekend?”
Trying not to sigh, Kaya shakes her head. “Not really. You?”
“Well… I’m going to a concert tomorrow,” she answers hurriedly, and it’s clear that she’s been waiting to divulge this information, oblivious to how Kaya’s heart stops. “It should be fun. Do - do you listen to BTS?”
An unexpected notification from this morning floats into her kind. BTS continues their Europe leg by arriving in Amsterdam, ready to kick off the summer in style!
“No,” she answers truthfully.
“Oh.” Elena is quiet for a moment. “They’re really… good.” 
There’s some awkward silence during which Kaya deliberately writes comments on the paper she’s grading, scratching the pen on the paper and wishing Elena would leave.
“It’ll be good to get out of campus. The people here are kind of intimidating. The parties are pretty wild, too,” she murmurs after a moment, sounding uncomfortable.
Kaya nods absently, uncharacteristically satisfied with the knowledge that she might be intimidating this unwanted guest. “Maybe you’re going to the wrong parties,” she offers.
Elena lets out a nervous laugh again. “Maybe. I never see you at them, though. There’s one, tonight, in the common room. Maybe you could come,” she suggests lightly. “Bring a friend or - or your boyfriend.”
“I don’t have a boyfriend,” she answers flatly, not looking up.
“You - oh.” There’s a note of surprise in her voice. “Oh,” she repeats, this time seemingly to herself. “Are you sure?” she blurts out.
Kaya’s eyes snap up to glare at her. “Pretty sure.”
Elena’s eyes widen. “Oh, of - of course,” she stutters. “Sorry, that - that was a stupid question. Sorry.” She swallows and looks at her lap.
Kaya closes her eyes and takes a deep breath, immediately feeling guilty for snapping at an innocent bystander in this situation. “Elena, I… I really need to get these papers done,” she tells her, her voice one of forced calm. “So…”
The blonde finally seems to understand and awkwardly stands up. “Okay. Um, see you around,” she says, tucking her hair behind her ear again. 
Kaya nods as she leaves, Namjoon’s invitation swimming in her mind tantalisingly. She can’t ignore it anymore, the fact that they’re in the same city, her city. If she’s not wrong, he’ll do the concert tomorrow night, the group will probably stay the night and depart by Sunday afternoon or evening and she will probably never see him again.
She attempts to continue grading the paper she was working on when Elena interrupted, but when she finds herself reading the same stupid sentence for the fourth time without retaining anything, she begins packing up, ready to head home.
Joon [18:42] Hope to see you there tonight
Kaya, with a loss as to how to respond to this, simply did not. She can’t imagine he would be texting her during his concert, but she also knows he has before, if the situation was urgent enough to demand it. 
She straightens the black dress against her hips and tilts her head at her reflection. It’s a simple dress, plain black, form-fitting and reaching below her knees, but it’s quite possibly the most gorgeous, sexiest dress she owns. 
If she and Namjoon were together, she would have worn it tonight with no hesitation because it would have driven him insane. After weeks of being apart, seeing her in this dress would have rendered him incapable of staying in work mode without dirty texts, flirty touches and eyes from across the room undressing her. Even now, with a bare face, her hair tied into a loose bun and no footwear, the dress is a game-changer.
She gives herself a few moments to imagine this paradise, one that might have come true tonight had she never told him about the break-in. Then, she silently unzips the dress and climbs out of the black fabric pooled around her feet. Tucking it back into her closet, she looks for something else.
Dilara [18:50] In case you change your mind, sharing the location here [Location]
Dilara’s text had come minutes after Namjoon’s, and Kaya has to imagine it was a genuine coincidence. Although she’d replied to neither, it was the second text that caused her to change her mind - that, and the lingering fear that if she didn’t go today, she didn’t know how either of them would be able to maneuver a situation to see each other again.
The concert should end in a little over an hour. Her phone pings again and she groans, for she doesn’t think she can take any more of their unsubtle attempts at convincing her to go tonight. It’s not Namjoon or Dilara, though, but Adam Fischer, her thirty-something thesis advisor, asking if she wants to discuss the coming week’s class schedule tonight.
Kaya shakes her head as she types out a reply (Sorry, I can’t tonight. Will set up a meeting for first thing Monday if that’s okay?), a little rueful. Namjoon heavily disliked Adam, despite having no concrete reason for doing so. He’d always suspected Adam of having feelings for her, even though Adam hadn’t said or done anything to make her think he might. Part of her wonders if she could somehow ditch the party for this meeting and still make sure that the news travelled to Namjoon through the grapevine (Dilara), and if that would still piss him off even now.
She immediately cringes at the pettiness of it, however, sending her reply to Adam and heading into the shower.
The party is at the rooftop restaurant of the hotel next to the concert venue, and presumably where BTS is staying while in Amsterdam. It isn’t as crowded as she was anticipating, although the music is fairly loud. It looks more like a fancy houseparty, and even a few seconds in, Kaya can spot a handful of vaguely famous people in attendance. She looks around for a familiar face, preferably Dilara or Yoongi or one of the younger boys, wishing she’d called ahead and trying not to think about the fact that in spite of not RSVP-ing, her name was on the guest list.
She takes another hesitant step in and audibly sighs when she spots Taehyung, who, for reasons best known to himself, has accessorised his outfit with an ascot. He seems to be in an animated conversation with Jungkook, while standing in between them and facing ahead, with loose curls tumbling down her shoulders and looking slightly bored, is…
“Kaya!”
Dilara’s mouth forms her name over the music as she brushes past her boyfriend and his friend and hurries towards Kaya, looking both happy and relieved to see her. “You look hot!” she exclaims when she reaches her.
“Oh -” Kaya looks down self-consciously; she’d settled for a straight strapless top and jeans, unable to justify dressing sexier without seeming like she was trying too hard for her ex-boyfriend. “Thanks. And you look…” She frowns slightly at Dilara’s mini-dress and go-go boots, with a slightly out-of-place gold ring hanging around her neck. “... like Daphne Blake.”
Dilara’s face visibly falls. “I look like a cartoon character?” she asks, wrinkling her nose.
“Well, a very pretty cartoon character,” she adds quickly. “Especially with the headband. But… why?”
She rolls her eyes. “Taehyung picked it - but I’m sure it’s not because of Daphne Blake.” Spotting Kaya’s confused expression, she shrugs sheepishly. “We got into an argument yesterday about who has better taste, so we decided to go shopping at The Nine Streets and pick each other’s outfits for tonight.”
Kaya raises her eyebrows, something seemingly clicking into place. “So the ascot is your doing?”
“M-hm.” She nods in satisfaction before her eyes widen. “Oh, hey! An ascot - like Fred!” She lets out a low whistle at this realisation and laughs, while Kaya nods knowingly, feeling the urge to smile for the first time in what feels like weeks. “Not planned but zero regrets. I wonder if Tae knows that - oh.”
Kaya cuts her off mid-sentence with a hug, suddenly immensely grateful for Dilara. She can’t remember the last time she’d let anyone into her life this much with the exception of Namjoon; but just maybe, when she’d been happy with him and her guard had been lowered, Dilara had slipped in without warning as well.
She tightens her arms around Kaya and rubs her back. “It’s good to see you, too,” she says, sounding part-surprised and part-delighted. “It’s been a while but I promise that we will still - oh, hey.” The change in tone is abrupt. “Incoming.”
By the way her voice immediately lowers, Kaya is sure she knows what Dilara is referring to. Her heart beating a mile a minute, she pulls away from the hug and turns as casually as she can.
Her first thought is that he looks thinner - visibly so. Well, he’s on tour, says a voice in her head but Kaya suspects that’s not the only reason, for he’d been on tour when he’d broken up with her as well.
His hair is a silvery blond, looking almost metallic; dressed simply in a black T-shirt and  jeans, he runs a hand through his hair so it falls gracefully around his face as he approaches her, his face unreadable.
“Hi,” he says, and it sounds like all the breath has been let out of him with just one word. He swallows and straightens his shoulders, a small smile appearing on his face, the dimple faintly visible. “It’s good to see you, Kaya.”
Kaya nods, unable to speak and overcome with a sudden urge to cry. “You, too,” she murmurs, glancing at the floor and blinking rapidly before looking back up at him, a bit defiantly.
“I’m glad you decided to come.”
She nods again, her chest twisting at how normal he sounds. He’s standing far away from her as well, as though to make it clear in every way possible that they’re not together. 
“Hope you had a good concert,” she ventures, recalling the grad student who’d accosted her yesterday, practically beside herself at attending a BTS concert. “Backstage must have been hectic.”
A flicker of something appears in his eyes for a moment, possibly with memories of backstage. Wishes of luck, last minute hugs, sweaty and passionate kisses fueled by adrenaline. But it disappears instantly and Kaya wonders if she imagined it.
“It was,�� he answers, nodding. He slides his hands into his pockets smoothly, leaning back on his heels and his smile widening a little. “But worth it as always. The crew did well.”
Kaya doesn’t even bother nodding this time; all of a sudden, she regrets coming here tonight. Dilara has left, she just realises, and Namjoon is acting like they’re acquaintances at best, making her feel stupid and yet immensely grateful that she didn’t wear the sexy black dress.
At that moment, his eyes flicker to something behind her. “I’m sorry, I just need to go and say hi to a couple of people. But enjoy your night. It’s an open bar,” he adds, smiling and nodding politely before brushing past her and walking away.
Kaya doesn’t move; she doesn’t think she can. Something heavy feels like it’s settled on her chest, the weight of confusion, disbelief and crushing disappointment threatening to suffocate her. She has no idea what she’d been expecting; maybe arguing, fighting, crying together again - but not him not caring. Not this.
Namjoon continues walking in the opposite direction for as long as he can keep Kaya in his peripheral vision, both guilty and relieved when she doesn’t turn around. He doesn’t think he can look her in the eye if she does, witness the pain and hurt in her face that close.
He catches Seokjin’s eye and hurries over to him. Seokjin raises his eyebrows and seems to guess what might have transpired, ushering him over to the other end of the circular bar and out of Kaya’s line of sight.
“How did it go?”
Namjoon rests his palms on the bar and shakes his head, no words coming to him at the moment and feeling like he could throw up. He can’t fathom how he did it, how he stood there before her and didn’t immediately pull her to him, or break down and ask her to forgive him for doing the only thing he knew to do.
“Drink this.” Seokjin slides a glass to him and Namjoon takes it without hesitation, taking a huge gulp and waiting for it to sting his sinuses. 
“This is water,” he states hoarsely, frowning at the glass.
“Cold water,” corrects Seokjin. “It’ll help clear your head.”
Namjoon takes another sip and places the glass down, dropping his head into his hands. “I can’t do this. How do I tell her I can’t do this? How do I ask her to -“ But he breaks off here, his mind swimming with the sight of her bare shoulders and exposed collarbones, imagining how they would feel if he held her.
“Okay.” Seokjin exhales through his nose and pauses. “Look, I have to ask. You’ve seen the state she is in. And you’re…” He struggles for a moment “...like this. Are you absolutely sure you don’t want to ask her to get back -“
“No.” The answer is instant, although it’s partly a habit by now. As he does every time his mind tries to convince him otherwise, Namjoon forces the memory of her phone call to the forefront of his mind, the fear in her voice and  devastation on her face when he’d entered her apartment.
“But maybe this is -“
“No.” 
Seokjin is silent and Namjoon can tell that he doesn’t approve. Please don’t ask me again, hyung. He doesn’t know if he did the right thing by inviting her but he couldn’t imagine not doing it either, not being right here in her city, knowing she was so close that he could almost smell the coconut and vanilla in the air and still not see her in the flesh.
“If you’re sure,” says Seokjin at last. “If you are, then I guess you did well. Just… just be normal around her. Keep a normal distance, talk about normal things and…” He half-shrugs, sounding uncertain. “She’s smart. She’ll understand. If you’re sure you want to do this, then… she’ll get it.”
Normal. Namjoon knows what he means, but he wants to tell him that none of this is normal. Not touching her, not being honest with her, not being with her - none of it is normal. 
“She’s talking to Yoongi right now,” he adds, and Namjoon turns to see them near the stairs to the top floor. Kaya’s back is to him, her head lowered slightly and her thumbs hooked onto the back pockets of her jeans, the material hugging her hips and curving down her backside… He swallows and looks away.
“This is your chance,” says Seokjin. “Go and mingle. Let her see you moving on - even if you actually aren’t,” he clarifies quickly. “It won’t be pleasant but it might encourage her to do the same.”
Namjoon isn’t sure of the wisdom of this strategy but ever since the cause of his break-up had been revealed to the older members (and surely to Taehyung at least, by Dilara), he’d almost been relieved that he wouldn’t have to make every decision on his own.
He tries his best to navigate the party after that, making empty conversation with guests, using every bit of remaining energy and willpower to plaster a smile on his face. All the while, part of his attention is constantly on Kaya, registering her familiar figure alone at the bar as she nurses a beer, sometimes with Dilara. 
Be normal. Seokjin’s words start holding less and less meaning with every passing minute, especially when he spots Kaya having finished her drink and he’s struck with the sudden fear that she will leave the party. In an effort to be as normal as he can, Namjoon heads over to the bar where she’s scanning the life-size menu half-heartedly, arms folded across her chest.
“Like anything?” he asks humbly. Long Island Iced Tea or a Mai Tai - depends on the flavours. His heart jolts when she shoots him a doubtful look and doesn’t answer, almost as if she’s wary of talking to him. She leans over the bar and gives the bartender a smile that makes his heart drop, especially when he grins back.
“Komt de mai tai in mango?” she asks, half-pouting when he shakes his head. “Een biertje, alsjeblieft,” she says finally, taking her second beer and turning away from the bar.
Namjoon doesn’t remember ever feeling this distant from her. “I’m glad you came tonight,” he tries again, choosing to look at her even though she’s facing away.
Kaya nods, pursing her lips and looking ahead. “Yeah, you said that already.” But her voice trembles ever so slightly, or maybe he just knows her so well that he’s sure it’s not a case of her not wanting to look at him - she can’t look at him.
It’s all on him now. He started this; if there is any hope of them still staying in each other’s lives, it’s down to him to make it happen. 
“How’s your dissertation going?” he asks, hoping her work is a topic she might open up on.
She shrugs after a moment. “Off schedule,” she answers shortly. “A lot of variables hanging in the air.”
“Did you get into the research project you’d applied for?”
It’s momentary but it appears: the corner of her mouth tilts upwards. “Yeah,” she admits, finally looking at him, albeit hesitantly. “Guess I’ll have a lot more time to focus on it now,” she murmurs, the hint of a smile fading.
Namjoon’s heart sinks. She’s so angry with him; it’s palpable and not something he has ever been on the receiving end of. Her hand hangs by her side; his own itches to link his fingers with his, maybe tug her to him or lead her out of this stupid party where he can plead for her to just look at him.
“Well,” he says, then pauses. “I’m glad you could get the time off tonight. Must have been hard.”
“M-hm, not really.” She shakes her head. “Adam wanted to meet but I’ll probably catch up with him later,” she adds nonchalantly.
Namjoon nods, his hand tightening around his glass. He can’t tell if she’s trying to provoke him, for they do work closely; close enough that Adam’s intentions have always been a point of disagreement for them. He’d never been able to explain to her just how much he hated the way her advisor looked at her when she didn’t notice, how his hugs always lingered a moment too long or how he insisted on calling her late in the evenings to discuss work.
He’s distracted momentarily by Jungkook, who approaches them while bopping effortlessly to the music and stops in between them, turning to face in the same direction as Namjoon and Kaya. He’s definitely tipsy; the smile on his face is too big and he doesn’t seem to be reading the room at all.
“Dilara is a really good dancer, isn’t she?” he says loudly in English to no one in particular. Namjoon frowns and follows his gaze to see Dilara, Taehyung and Hoseok dancing, before turning back to look at Jungkook. On his other side, Kaya is also frowning at him, tilting her head curiously. Their eyes meet and she raises her eyebrows slightly.
Namjoon fights a smile as Kaya half-chuckles and looks away, his heart twisting with longing at how much he misses her. She looks so incredibly beautiful; his eyes sting when he realises that there’s absolutely nothing he can do about it.
“I’m gonna -“ He gestures vaguely and walks away in the opposite direction, desperate to be anywhere but around her before his resolve breaks.
The next half hour is a flurry of faces; Namjoon distracts himself with every single individual at the party, making small talk and exchanging unfunny jokes and hyper aware of Kaya occasionally glancing at him.
He knows, because he’s watching her, too, doing his best to make sure she doesn’t see him looking. He can’t even help it; it’s almost muscle memory at this point.
“Who are you looking at?” The woman he’s talking to asks him point-blank.
Namjoon flushes, realising he’d been staring at Kaya over her shoulder while she’d been speaking.
“No one,” he answers quickly. “Sorry.”
The twenty-something woman frowns curiously. “Are you sure? I’m not offended.”
“It’s… nothing.” He shakes his head and looks at the floor. 
“Ex-girlfriend?”
Ex. Not trusting himself to speak, Namjoon nods. 
“Hm.” She hums, somewhat sympathetically. “Bad break-up?”
“Pretty bad.”
“I’m sorry,” she says after a moment. “It’s never easy to be around an ex if it hasn’t ended well.”
“Yeah, well,” he says, desperate to change the topic. “All part of the process, right?”
“Right,” she says encouragingly. “Plus, once you’re past this phase, the one where you constantly want to die, you can begin the drink and eat and hook up as much as you want stage with no judgement.”
He chuckles politely, the prospect sounding horrendous. “Thanks. Feels good to laugh for real.”
She smiles wider and, before he knows it, leans forward and presses a kiss against his lips.
It takes Namjoon a couple of seconds of pure shock before he jumps backwards. “Whoa. What -“ His heart races uncomfortably. “What was that?”
“Sorry,” she says slowly, looking a little confused. “I thought… you wanted to make your ex jealous. Isn’t that where you were going with this?”
“No,” he clarifies immediately. “No. Absolutely not. I don’t want to - no.” In the midst of his minor crisis, he notes how the woman looks almost mortified.
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to -”
“It’s fine,” he cuts her off, suddenly feeling horribly guilty. He looks up out of habit and sees, unmistakably, Kaya leaving the restaurant, her long dark hair and the shimmery dark blue of her top disappearing out the door.
The night has gotten chillier in the last couple of hours and the cool wind hits her bare shoulders the moment she steps out, but Kaya barely feels it. She’s not thinking right now; thinking is what’s got them here, thinking about everything and overthinking to the point of fleeing a restaurant.
“Kaya!” 
Her feet increase their pace automatically the same time her stomach flips, but he’s taller and faster and he reaches her before she can even reach the elevator.
“Kaya,” he repeats hurriedly, reaching and grabbing her elbow. “Wait, please. I’m sorry -”
“Why did you even invite me here?” she asks, cutting him off and turning around to face him. She’s so tired; she didn’t think break-ups could be this exhausting. “You’ve barely said anything to me. Was it to show me in person how you’re moving on? Because if that’s the case, then… message received.”
Namjoon shakes his head immediately; he looks exhausted as well, and Kaya is once again struck by how much thinner he is, overcome with a mixture of empathy and frustration at him. 
“That was not - I didn’t plan that,” he says, sighing. “I don’t even know who she is. She kissed me and it wasn’t… come on, does it look like I’m moving on?” he asks, raising his arms helplessly.
Kaya stares at him and then sighs, shaking her head. “Why did you invite me here?” she asks again, less defensive this time.
“Because I wanted to see you,” he says at once.
She stares at him. “Well, you’ve seen me,” she says, sniffing. “Can I go now?”
“Kaya…”
“What?”
Namjoon runs a hand through his hair, looking lost for words. “Please don’t -“ He breaks off abruptly before taking a step closer to her, his height both large and comforting. “I don’t want you to be sad. I’m sorry.”
Too late. “You’re not supposed to care how I feel. Not anymore.”
He lets out a humourless chuckle. “What?”
“We’re over.” She can hear the tremble in her voice as she crosses her arms across her chest again. “You said it yourself. You’re not supposed to care how I feel.”
“Really?” He narrows his eyes at her. “You think this break-up had anything to do with how I feel about you? You know as I do that it didn’t.” When she doesn’t answer, he sighs. “I did this because I care.”
“If you say so.”
He pokes his tongue into his cheek. “Are you deliberately trying to provoke me or something?”
“Provoke you into what?” she blurts out. “What - what is that you want, exactly? What do you want us to do? Just circle around in each other’s orbits for the rest of our lives, while still being - while still feeling the way we do?” she asks, avoiding her almost-slip of tongue. “We’re just supposed to stay not be together and still stay in each other’s lives? What - what do you want?”
Namjoon opens his mouth but falls silent; it’s clear he hasn’t thought that far ahead - or he can’t say it out loud. “I want…” He begins, before pausing and starting again. “I want… you to be happy,” he says eventually. “And safe.” 
She scoffs and he bristles. 
“I’m serious. I -” He breaks off when someone exits the restaurant, his gaze following them until they’re out of sight before he turns back to her. “This is hard for me, too, you know? Why is it so hard for you to believe I might want you to be happy?”
Kaya exhales but doesn’t answer, because it isn’t hard to believe, not even a little bit. It’s unfortunately the most believable thing he’s ever said to her which means she can’t even fight it.
“How?” she asks finally. “By moving on, like you were pretending to do?”
Namjoon bites his lip and his eyes glaze over, and she knows he’s picturing it. His eyes fall to the floor but he nods slowly anyway. “Yeah, I guess. As long as I don’t have to watch it,” he adds in a mutter.
It’s really over. Kaya feels her eyes well up. “Fine,” she answers quietly. “If you’ll excuse me, I’m going to go find someone to move on with tonight.” She turns to leave but feels him stop her again. “What?” she snarls.
“Kaya, I -” The lift opens and a handful of people tumble out, holding merchandise and talking loudly. Namjoon’s eyes widen and he immediately grabs her arms and walks her back into a corner, just as the group turns into their corridor and towards the restaurant.
“What are you -”
But the second lift opens just then and they hear the sound of a second group of voices. Namjoon swears under his breath and pushes open a door behind her, walking her back further into the tiny dark room and letting the door swing shut behind him.
“What is wrong with -“
“It’s press,” he hisses, and she falls silent.
He peers out into the corridor through the small window in the door; there’s no light except for the bit through the window and from a skylight in the ceiling. Kaya can smell something vaguely citric that she decides is floor cleaner; they are in a janitor’s closet.
She and Namjoon are frozen in place, his hands still on her arms and hers on his torso to keep from losing her balance. It’s been a long time since they’ve been this close; it takes Kaya a few seconds to realise that the voices outside have disappeared, but he still hasn’t moved away.
Almost as if he’s subconsciously heard her, his thumbs stroke her arm once. The simple touch makes all the anger crumble away for a moment, especially now that it’s just them with the rest of the world shut outside. Kaya hesitates for a moment, then gently rests her forehead on his shoulder. Namjoon stiffens but a moment later, she feels his fingers tighten above her elbows, followed by him loosely enveloping her in his arms.
It seems cruel, almost, that the target of her anger and source of her comfort lie in the same person. It isn’t even a hug; it’s a moment of weakness at best, borne from his almost subconscious need to protect her. For the first time, Kaya wonders if she’s being unfair to him.
Resisting the temptation to wrap her arms around his waist, she steps away from him with difficulty, her back touching the wall. His arms fall from around her reluctantly, his expression resigned. It’s dark but she can see him more clearly than she has all night.
“This is a terrible idea,” she murmurs, echoing her words from a month ago. “The worst you’ve ever had.”
Namjoon exhales shakily but doesn’t argue. “I meant everything I said in that note,” he says, not even trying to hide the tremble in his voice anymore. “And I really do want you to be happy.”
The note. The one he’d kept on her bedside table when he’d left her apartment while she slept, the only thing of his that was left when she’d awoken, naked and alone. She’d only had the strength to read it once before she’d broken down and tucked it deep into her drawer, knowing the words would be etched in her memory.
“You know what will make me happy,” she whispers, looking at the ground. She feels him come closer to her, one hand hovering by her side as though unable to decide if she’d want her to touch him. 
He finally rests it lightly on her waist, moving it slightly upward as she looks up at him, her heart twisting at how he’s unable to meet her eyes. She places her hands on his face, thinking vaguely how much she misses seeing his dimple.
“Joon,” she whispers, waiting for him to nod once. “Look at me.”
Namjoon visibly swallows, gaze still fallen. “Kaya, I…”
“No,” she interrupts him. “Look at me.”
With what seems like an enormous effort, he meets her eyes. This is hard for me too, you know? 
She knows. Kaya strokes his cheekbones with her thumbs, her touch feather-light. “Kiss me,” she whispers. She touches her forehead to his and closes her eyes, hoping he’ll give in, for she can’t go further than this. 
His hand tightens around her waist, pressing her into the wall. Their lips brush momentarily and he shivers.
“Do it,” she urges, her voice barely audible now. “Kiss me.”
She feels his lips before she even registers him moving against her and she leans into it, feeling like she can breathe for the first time in weeks. Come back to me, she thinks desperately. Come back to where you belong.
It’s like he can hear her. Namjoon pulls away, one hand on the wall beside her face for support, the other holding her.
“Fuck,” he whispers, and it sends a jolt of anticipation through her heart. “I love you, Kaya,” he adds, voice full of emotion. Kaya nods, unable to speak, wishing he would meet her eyes. He moves his hands to her face and touches his forehead to hers again, swallowing.
Look at me.
But he doesn’t. “But you have no idea,” he continues, every word sounding like it's costing him effort, “how I felt when you called me that night. The things that went through my mind…” He sniffs, and Kaya’s heart sinks. “I can’t let that happen again baby. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry…”
She can feel her face start to contort and she drops her hands from his shoulders, for she knows this part by heart. “Goodbye, Namjoon,” she mutters thickly, sliding out from between him and the wall. She pushes open the door and hurries out, leaving him behind.
When she hears the knock on her front door the next morning, Kaya is just about to step into the shower. She freezes and sighs, for she really, really needs this shower. She considers ignoring it but the knock sounds again and she groans, abandoning the activity of tying up her hair and letting it fall loose instead. 
Grabbing the old, threadbare robe hanging on the back of the bathroom door, she pulls it around herself and shuffles to the front door. She peers through the peephole and her heart stops for a moment, but she steels herself and opens the door.
Namjoon stands before her, hands in his pockets and shoulders slightly hunched. “Hey. I just wanted to - oh, God,” he switches abruptly, his expression changing from vaguely apologetic to shocked, and he slips inside the apartment.
“What?” Kaya asks, taken off guard and stumbling backwards.
“You really opened the door wearing that?” he hisses, shutting the door behind him. “I could’ve been anyone!”
“I knew it was you,” she argues, tightening the belt around her waist and realising, for the first time, how short the robe is. But she isn’t about to admit that to him, especially not when he’s turned up unannounced and decided to begin his visit by berating her. She folds her arms across her chest. “What do you want, Namjoon?”
He hesitates, almost as though he’s just noticing how displeased she is. “Sorry,” he mutters, looking a bit ashamed. “I didn’t mean to… anyway,” he says quickly, wringing his hands and slipping them back in his pockets. “How are you?”
Kaya shrugs suspiciously. He looks remarkably different from where she’d left him last night, almost breaking down and apologising to her. Right now, he seems almost… calm. She can almost imagine that last night had been a slip-up of emotion, possibly due to tiredness and an open bar, whereas in the light of day, he’s back to being the responsible ex who’s fulfilling his obligations by checking up on her each day.
“I’m great.”
He nods after a moment, clearly not believing her. “Well, I came here because…” He sighs and a glimmer of last night’s emotion appears on his face. “I thought about what you said last night. And you were right.”
The jolt in her stomach is almost painful, but Kaya hangs on. If he was talking about what she thinks he is, he would be delivering it far more differently.
“We can’t keep doing this. I can’t expect you to keep doing this,” he adds. “Staying in this limbo, not knowing…” He bites his lip and lowers his gaze, removing his hands from his pockets. “You have every right to move on. I want you to - to be happy.”
Kaya licks her lips slowly. “This,” she says coldly, “could’ve been a text.”
“I didn’t want to leave things the way they were last night,” he tells her, his voice softer. “You’re, uh…” His voice breaks off for a moment. “You’re the love of my life. And we were together for a long time and I… I loved every moment of it. I just want to say goodbye the right way.”
Her throat hurts holding back the rush of emotion that threatens to overwhelm her. 
“Are you sure?” She can’t resist asking, in a whisper. When he nods and lowers his eyes, she feels the heavy, heavy anchor of acceptance settle in her stomach. 
Namjoon hesitantly reaches out with one hand but when she gives him a look, he nods and steps forward, and they meet in their last hug, three and a half years after their first last hug in her apartment.
Kaya hugs him tight, no longer caring about hiding how she feels. There isn’t enough time to try and memorise everything so she doesn’t even try; she just goes higher on her toes and presses her nose into his shoulder, revelling in his scent one last time.
Namjoon doesn’t seem to be doing much better. He’s holding her tight, so tight that it doesn’t seem like he’s ever intending on letting her go. His face is in her hair and his arms stroke her back in small movements, his go-to movement to comfort her since they met.
Just a few more seconds. The sensations increase now; the feel of his shoulders, his chest touching hers - and she’s suddenly conscious of the thin robe being the only thing separating her naked body from him.
At the same time, his hands move to her waist - out of habit, she knows, but she can’t help but be extremely aware of it. His hand stops just above the curve of her hips, quickly and abruptly. 
Her mouth feels dry, but her legs press together. Then, as though he can read her mind and the direction her thoughts are invariably leading in, against her hip, she can feel his body react.
She lets out a soft gasp and feels his body stiffen around her. This is goodbye, a voice reminds her, urging her brain to focus on the matter at hand. But it’s slipping - fading, almost, as a physical urge struggles for dominance. 
Her lips brush his neck as she pulls away - she has to pull away - but it doesn’t matter in the end because somewhere along the way his lips find hers and all thought disappears, replaced by touch, feel and hunger.
Namjoon sighs into her mouth like he’s breathing for the first time, pulling her close. Her robe starts to loosen and he tugs at the belt, groaning when his hands touch her bare skin.
“Fuck, are you really not wearing anything under this?” he murmurs, his voice so low and reverberating so deep inside her that she shivers.
The robe is off; it’s cool and sudden air, a moment where his hands fall from her waist and then their back but this time, it’s skin against skin. It’s lips and sighs and tight grips, the feel of denim, her fingers moving out of habit as they unbutton and unzip - and then there’s pride and relief when she feels his desire for her, still the same as ever, no matter his words.
There’s something solid against her back; somewhere, dimly, her mind registers that her dining table is rickety and has her laptop on it, and then she’s leaning forward and he’s behind her and his chest is against her back and he wants her just as much as he wants him.
“Are you -“
“I’m still on birth control,” she confirms tightly, the next moment feeling his fingers on her hips and then he’s inside her again, after so long. She could almost sob at how good it feels, how right, the lips on her shoulder and his scent and touch.
But it’s over too soon. She gasps and falls forward, her ears ringing and heart hurting at the same time as her heart races. He’s getting close, too; she tries to memorise it now, the exact moment, but then he pulls out. It’s sudden, the emptiness, but the next moment, she feels wetness on her back.
It takes around ten seconds, ten seconds when she’s frozen before she finally hears him sigh and take a step away. A moment later, she reaches across the table and pulls the tissue box towards her, reaching behind and wiping her back.
Kaya turns slightly to see him pulling on his T-shirt, jeans buttoned already. She picks up her robe and pulls it on hurriedly, suddenly not wanting to be naked for even another microsecond in front of him.
Something feels wrong. It’s not the first time he’s finished on her; he’s done it before, on explicit request and without, none of which ever made her feel… like this. Self-conscious. Bare.
Namjoon clears his throat. “I -“ He meets her eyes, still panting slightly. “I still want to… do this right,” he says, sounding almost formal. “Goodbye, Kaya.” 
He starts to take a step forward but pauses. “Maybe we shouldn’t hug,” he murmurs, offering her a small smile. Kaya watches as he hesitantly offers her a hand.
This is goodbye. Kaya can’t remember ever feeling this uncomfortable around him. The momentary loss of her sense of reason feels like it’s returned in full form, and she tightens the robe around her. She starts to reach for his hand but then stops.
“This is what you meant?” she asks quietly. “When you said you wanted to do it the right way? You wanted to see if you could squeeze in one last fuck before you closed this out like a business meeting?”
“What?” Namjoon’s eyes widen. “No! I didn’t - I didn’t want that to happen! I mean - you know that’s not what I meant,” he adds quickly. “I didn’t plan this. You and I both -“
“You planned our break-up and I had no idea,” she cuts him off, the shame and embarrassment creeping up her throat. “I really don’t know anymore.”
He scoffs, but his eyes flicker like he’s been stung. “Is that what you think of me? We were both here, Kaya. It wasn’t just me - you wanted this just as much as I -“
“I slept with Adam.” 
Namjoon freezes. He swallows and his eyes flicker again, rapidly this time. “You’re lying,” he whispers.
Kaya shrugs, holding his gaze with every last bit of willpower in her. “You were the one who told me to move on last night,” she reminds him, watching his expression crumble and doing nothing to stop it.
After what feels like several minutes, or maybe even hours, Namjoon nods slowly. Then, without another word, he turns around and opens the door, walking out of her life and shutting the door behind him.
Thanks for reading. Don't forget to drop a review :)
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moccahobi · 2 years
Text
Let You Fly [Namjoon x Jimin]
Summery: Namjoon and Jimin have been together for only 7 months and it’s been near perfect. The two fit together wonderfully. All changes when Namjoon’s dream job offer slides itself into his inbox. He’d been eyeing the position in Japan for years… It wouldn’t be fair to Jimin to pack up his bags and join Namjoon, but it wouldn’t be fair to Namjoon to try to force him to stay. Instead, Jimin must let him fly.
Pairings: Namjoon (BTS) x Jimin (BTS)
Rating: E for everyone
Warnings: None
Word Count:  3.5k words
Genre: Angst, A touch of fluff
A/N: A big thank you to @bluewhale52 for betaing! Your feedback was soooo helpful!!!!!!!
A/N2: This fic is part of @bangtanwritingbingo​’s summer bingo! The prompt for this is “Jimin x Namjoon”!
Song inspiration: Let You Fly by Sunshine State
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The sweet fragrance of the flower shop filled Jimin's nostrils as he worked away on a bouquet order. Jimin hummed along to the soft music that played in the background, his mind zeroed in on putting the flowers together in just the right way. Behind him, Namjoon sat at a small table, typing away on his computer. He was supposed to be on a small break, but like the work loving man he was, he was actually clearing out his inbox. Every once in a while, he'd sigh deeply and run his hands through his hair tiredly when he found an email that he actually had to respond to with thought. 
Jimin looked over at him, his heart melting as he watched Namjoon type away, hunched over the computer tiredly. This wasn't a traditional date but it was the perfect sort of date for them. Jimin had a few last minute orders to make and deliver and Namjoon always had work he could do so it worked out perfectly. Namjoon came right from work (well he had stopped by a cafe and gotten a few snacks and some coffee for them), set up the fold up table, put on some music, and got right away to work… after a kiss or ten. 
Just an hour more of work and then they'd be on the road. Jimin took a deep breath and continued working on his bouquet. Evenings like these were highlights of his week. Small moments like these meant the world to him. He quickly put the finishing touches on this bouquet and started to move around a tad. Quietly, he cleaned up his station before grabbing a glass of water.
"Don't forget to drink some water, sunshine." Jimin said as he set down the water next to Namjoon's computer and softly rubbing his back. 
"Thank you," Namjoon sighed and leaned back in his chair, looking at Jimin with a tired smile on his face, his dimples barely peeking out as he smiled, "How are the bouquets going?"
"I am nearing the end! I think we'll be able to deliver them in an hour or so."
"What a perfect stopping point for me!"
"Oh? Nearing the end of your emails?"
Namjoon snorted, "No but I'll give up then."
"After a valiant effort, I'm sure." Jimin said with a laugh, winking quickly as he joked. 
"Absolutely. Is my music ok? I would've done our collaborative playlist but I really needed calmer music today." 
"It's wonderful. I've been really enjoying it!"
"I'm glad."
Jimin nodded, leaning down and pecking Namjoon before going back to his work table, a warm buzz filling him as he continued to work. Being with Namjoon constantly left Jimin feeling a soft buzz throughout his body, it seeped into him like how warm drinks heat you up from the hands and stomach. Sometimes it was like a mulled wine that made him feel hot and heady, other times it was like coffee that made him energized and ready for the day ahead, and on nights like tonight, it was like a calming jasmine tea that relaxed and calmed him. In the time that they'd been together, Namjoon had never ceased to amaze Jimin.  
After finishing his final bouquet and cleaning his work space, Jimin leaned on the table and looked over at Namjoon. Flowers surrounded Namjoon like a halo of sunlight, hugging tightly to him. He seemed at home with the many floral arrangements as they egged on his challenging work. It made Jimin's heart flutter. They may have only started dating a few months ago, but Namjoon seemed to fit into Jimin's life so perfectly. He should make a bouquet for Seokjin who set them up and maybe a thank you letter to the head of his department who hasn't fielded Namjoon any job offers from out of SNU's Seoul campus.
had to kiss a lot of frogs before you came along
... Would it be too soon to say he loved Namjoon? 
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Excitement buzzed through Jimin from where he sat nestled into Namjoon's side, looking out from his spot in the booth to watch his friends talk. Jimin was sipping on a beer laughing as Jungkook started a long story. His eyes were wide and he threw his arms around wildly as he spoke about how serious Hoseok was with shopping. 
"It was honestly scary!" Jungkook concluded. 
Hoseok laughed and shook his head, "Clothes are a serious topic."
"I would disagree."
"Well Jungkook-ah, you only dress in black so I don't know if you have much ground in this conversation." Jimin said with a laugh. 
"Woah! Where did that voice come from?" Jungkook asked, raising his head to intentionally look over Jimin with a mischievous grin.
Namjoon laughed, earning a small slap and eye roll from Jimin, "You're supposed to be on my side, hyung!"
"I'm always on your side, my little Kuroshimae."
Jimin giggled, hiding his face in Namjoon's side as their friends groaned. 
"I don't even know what that is, Namjoon-ah." Seokjin said with a sigh.
"Sea sheep!"
"I regret introducing you two."
Yoongi gently pushed against Seokjin, "That's a lie and we both know it."
Namjoon's phone lit up an urgent message notification showing, "Is it ok if I quickly check this message?"
"Sure! I'll get rounds for everyone while you do!" Hoseok said, jumping out of the booth.
"Let me join you!" Taehyung said, quickly scurrying behind Hoseok toward the bar. 
Whining as Namjoon grabbed his phone from the table, Jimin looked around the restaurant to give Namjoon space to read the email. 
A sharp intake from Namjoon made Jimin look back, "I got a job offer to work for the Oceanography Society of Japan."
It felt like a cold bucket of water washed over Jimin as he looked at Namjoon process the information. Did Namjoon even realize that he said that out loud? 
Jimin was frozen as he watched Namjoon finish reading the email. The rest of the restaurant faded away and all he could see was Namjoon and all he could think about was Namjoon got the job he'd been wanting. 
Namjoon would leave Jimin, fly to another country, and live there. He'd talked about the possible position when they'd started dating, Jimin knew it was an option, but after two months, they'd both figured that it wasn't going to happen. 
Six months later and they decide to accept him? 
"Are you ok, Jimin-ah?" Namjoon asked, his eyes wide as he gently touched Jimin's shoulder. 
Their friends were looking at them. They couldn't talk about this now, maybe tonight or tomorrow they will but not now. 
Taking a deep breath in, Jimin smiled, "I am. Congrats on the job offer, sunflower. I'm so proud of you."
Those words stung Jimin like thorns on roses and once again he was faced with the fact that Namjoon would be leaving him. 
pack your bags leave it all for a country far away the job that you'd been dreaming of was calling
Namjoon had tears in his eyes when he spoke, "Thank you. Let's talk about it later?"
Somehow the night progressed painfully slow. Neither Jimin or Namjoon spoke much and soon enough the two were saying good night in the parking lot. Their kisses were slow and sad, tears mixing together. 
"Let's talk about my job offer later this week? It's pretty late." 
"That sounds like a plan." Jimin said quietly, hugging Namjoon tightly. He took a deep breath and gathered up his courage, "And Namjoon hyung?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you."
"I love you too, Jimin."
It wasn't the end, but it felt like they were nearing a goodbye. 
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He was trying to ignore the upcoming conversation with Namjoon by taking extra care of his plants. It was time for most of them to be watered anyways so extra care and a little propitiating was a good thing to throw himself into. 
If tears weren't so salty then maybe he would've used his tears to water them instead of tap water. 
Taking care to measure out the amount of fertilizer to add to the water, he tried not to focus on Namjoon.
Namjoon. 
had to kiss a lot of frogs 'till you finally came along but now we don't have a lot of time to work with
He was such a wonderful boyfriend. In many ways, it felt like Namjoon had slotted into Jimin's perfectly. Jimin treasured their relationship so much and now? 
Would they be able to make it?
Fuck… he'd poured too much fertilizer into the water. 
As Jimin added more water to the pot, he felt his throat close up as more tears threatened to spill at the same speed as the tap water rushed out of the faucet. 
Plants. 
Jimin was trying to focus on plants. Taking a shaky breath, he lifted the pot and started to slowly walk around and check the plants. It was becoming easier until he came to Rex, his Begonia Rex, who was sitting proudly in a beautiful ceramic pot that looked like a stack of books. Rex was thriving, new growth sprouting all over and leaves a beautiful deep red. 
Namjoon had gifted Jimin Rex. 
Namjoon often helped Jimin take care of his plants. 
How many plant dates would the two have? 
The last one they had was a month ago when Jimin finally decided to repot some of his plants. It was full of laughs and gentle touches. 
It was when Namjoon gave him Rex. 
Was that going to be their last plant date? 
Why did Jimin have to get so attached to Namjoon? 
They both knew this was a possibility… but… damn it. Jimin caught feelings. He was in deep. 
it hadn't been very long at least according to my closest friends. "Watch your heart. Take it slow. Have some fun." Is all they say but I'm still spending all the time I can with you
Jimin sighed, looking at Rex. 
Would this be all he'll have of Namjoon soon? 
Could he handle a long distance relationship? Could Namjoon? 
A choked sob left Jimin and was absorbed in his plant filled living room. It was all so so much. 
This was so so much. 
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The picnic blanket was full of some of Jimin’s favorite food: kimbap, mandoo, and gaeran mari. All made with care by Namjoon who, through their couples classes, had been getting so much better with cooking. Jimin didn’t know if he could stomach any of them. Just looking at the beautiful display, made Jimin’s heart hurt with how much care Namjoon had clearly put into the piece. It seemed Namjoon was feeling similar. He'd eaten one Kimbap piece slowly but hadn't touched anything since, the display still looking pretty and organized despite them having laid out the food almost twenty minutes ago. 
They were looking out at the other people in the park. It was a bright and sunny day, and it seemed that many people had flocked to the park for some sun and warmth. Someone was playing frisbee with their dog, the two excitedly running around. At one point, the two were rolling around in the grass, the person’s laugh loud and happy. A gaggle of children were playing tag, giggling and shouting plans to each other.  People were biking around. 
Just last month they’d planned to do a bike trip together… 
Today would have been a perfect day for that. 
Everything seemed to be happy around Jimin and Namjoon and it made Jimin feel worse, like they were a stain of sorrow on a bright and happy place. They were like a metaphorical blackcloud in the park.
wish the sun could make you stay
Namjoon sighed, "I think I'm going to take the job offer, Jimin-ah."
Jimin's mouth felt dry at Namjoon's statement. It was exactly what Jimin was expecting but it still felt like an icy cold hand was gripping his heart, wringing it of all its warmth. His eyes stung with budding tears as he looked around, willing himself not to cry as he watched the dog run after the frisbee, running excitedly. 
"I want you to. At least, if I was the only reason for you to stay here… I wouldn’t want that. If you had… if you had other reasons to stay then that's a different story." Words caught in Jimin's throat like thick mucus and his slow mind wasn't helping with trying to speak. He reached out and grabbed Namjoon's hand, rubbing it gently and trying to memorize it (who knew how many times he’d see Namjoon’s hands again). 
He didn't have the energy or heart to look at Namjoon's face, though.
"I want… Do you want to try long distance? I… I care for you so much, I don't want this to be the end of our relationship. Of us." Namjoon’s voice cracked as he spoke.
"I want to." Jimin felt tears pooling in his eyes as he started to speak, "I'm worried about us though. I don't want this to be a goodbye."
Namjoon gently squeezed Jimin's hand, "I don't either… It does feel like a goodbye though," He sighed, "I also don’t want us to have a bitter goodbye down the line… I want to make us work."
it's so hard to say goodbye and when I do, I want to cry
Jimin looked up, his eyes momentarily focusing on the bright sun and lazily moving clouds behind Namjoon before they focused on him. Namjoon's eyes were red, his cheeks glistening with tears. Shakily, Jimin let go of Namjoon's hand and cupped his face, wiping away some of the tears with his hand. 
Jimin cooed and pecked each Namjoon's salty cheeks, "We'll make this work, hyung. I promise." He captured Namjoon's lips in a gentle kiss. 
It warmed Jimin gently, his body alight in a calm hug of heat. Namjoon pulled Jimin closer, humming quietly into the kiss. 
"I love you, my Kuroshimae." Namjoon said when they pulled apart, their faces still a short distance apart. Jimin giggled and scrunched up his nose as Namjoon's breath, laced with egg and spam, fanned across his face. 
"I love you too, but your breath is stinky."
Namjoon leaned back at that, laughing loudly, "I'm sorry. Now, how do we want to make this work? I'd feel better if we had a bit of a plan before I left."
Jimin hummed, nuzzling into Namjoon as he started to speak, "When will you be leaving."
"They want me there to start asap, so in two or so weeks." Namjoon said, his voice cracking as he spoke. 
Jimin nodded and sighed, looking out at the park and all the happy park goers as more tears budded in his eyes. This would be a long and hard conversation. 
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His favorite show, W, was playing in the background as Jimin meticulously punched holes in the envelopes, a nice stack of twenty already growing on his desk. All around him was mess from a three day frenzied project to make a gift for Namjoon's apartment in Japan. Well it wasn't really a gift for his apartment as much as it was a gift for Namjoon. 
A large floral binder that'll hold 210 envelopes with letters and affirmations. He'd seen gifts like these for parents and friends and had taken to doing it for Namjoon as. Hopefully it'll help comfort Namjoon when he is missing Jimin. 
Jimin was rushing to finish putting the gift together. He'd spent so much time on the actual letters that organizing them and putting them nearly into all the envelopes had fallen to the wayside, and now he only had two days to slip it into one of Namjoon's suitcases before the flight. Hopefully he'll be able to put it in an already packed one so that Namjoon won't notice that there was a giant lump in his suitcase that he hadn't packed.
Namjoon was leaving painfully soon and it hurt. They'd been spending much time together as if that'd make up for the months they'll be apart for. In Jimin's heart, he knew that no matter how much time they spent together, the distance wouldn't be easy. A shiver ran down his spine at the thought. Namjoon was a source of warmth and comfort in every way. His hugs were like a second home, his dimpled smile a candy that he constantly craved, his voice a soothing song that calmed all of Jimin's nerves. 
Would Jimin break because of the distance? 
Would they survive? 
Jimin felt cold at the idea of them not lasting the distance. He wanted them to last. 
He sighed, looking at the envelopes he still had to hole punch and put letters in. The stack was big… if only Namjoon didn't take the job. 
If only Jimin begged for him to stay… maybe they wouldn't be in this situation. Maybe they'd be cuddling up together, thinking about renting an apartment together once their current leases were up. 
But Jimin couldn't do that. He wouldn't. This was a dream job for Namjoon and trying to keep him here would only breed resentment between them. 
it's so hard to say goodbye and when I do I want to cry but I've got to let you fly
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The car was quiet, neither Namjoon or Jimin having energy to make conversation or the will to put on music. It was a stark contrast to the goodbye party their friends hosted just before this and despite the silence being somewhat painful, Jimin was thankful. The excitement and noise from the party was a lot and he needed a reprieve before saying bye to Namjoon. 
If Namjoon had found the binder of letters Jimin made, he didn't make any comment. Similarly, Jimin found a large wrapped gift hidden under his bed that Namjoon had most definitely snuck in and he chose not to comment. 
He'd open it when he got home from their airport. It would be a kind comfort, a ghost of a hug that Jimin already knew he'd want. 
"Oh-- My Kuroshimae, I think you missed the turn," Namjoon looked at the map on his phone, "Yep."
"I-- We're having an adventure. One more adventure for the time being."
Namjoon laughed and nodded, "Alright then, the directions are saying that the next turn will be two blocks away then."
"If you didn't have to be three hours early, I'd suggest we take a few more wrong terms." Jimin said with a giggle. 
Namjoon shook his head with a smile, "I'd totally egg you on. Next time though!"
Butterflies erupted in Jimin's stomach at the thought. They've had many a long drive because one of them took the wrong term and they chose to go with it, turning up their road trip playlist and singing excitedly as they drove along. 
Oh, how much fit into the six months they've been together. 
we walk and we laugh like we'll always be together as we take one step closer to the edge but we still pretend
Despite the wrong turn, the two made it to the airport in good time, quickly parking and unloading Namjoon's things into a cart. The airport towered over them powerfully as they walked towards the entrance. The two anxiously got in line for plane tickets and baggage drop off, their hands tightly clasped together despite the sweat and condensation that was amounting. 
All too soon, Namjoon got his bags checked and his tickets. Jimin's gut twisted as a wave of nausea washed over him. 
"I hope you have a safe flight."
"I will. I'll threaten the pilot just to be sure. I'll tell them that my Kuroshimae wants me to have a safe flight." Namjoon said with a small laugh.
"I'm sure that'll work." Jimin sighed and kissed Namjoon softly, hoping to keep the memory of Namjoon's kiss in his mind for as long as possible, "You'll rock this job. I just know it."
"Thank you. I love you, Jimin-ah."
"I love you too, Namjoon hyung." 
Jimin watched as Namjoon disappeared in the airport, tears quietly flowing and his heart aching. It was cold when he made it back to his car and left the airport. Even his apartment felt cold, no matter how many sweaters or blankets he was wrapped in. 
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Jimin's apartment was empty when he entered, tired after a long day of deliveries. In his hands was a fat stack of mail that he was excitedly flipping through, mindlessly taking his shoes off and putting on slippers as he walked further into his apartment. 
Spam. Bills. Coupons. 
It was all mundane letters and most of which he could do without. 
He sighed when he didn't find a letter from Namjoon, the bit of excitement he had stored away vanished with the lack of a letter. It must've been delayed in the shipping for one reason or another. 
Hopefully it'll come tomorrow. 
Dejectedly, he put the letters down on his kitchen table and went to his bedroom, falling face up on his bed and spreading out like a starfish. He reached over for the only stuffed animal he had in his bedroom and hugged it tightly. 
It was a jumbo Costasiella kuroshimae holding a sunflower.
"I miss you." Jimin said into the stuffed animal.
it's so hard to say goodbye and when I do I want to cry but I've got to let you fly
63 notes · View notes
byuljoonie · 4 months
Note
Give me possessive koo smut 😇
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pairing: dom!jk x fem!reader
genre: smut, drabble, request, unedited
word count: 2k
warnings: smut, drinking, lots of swearing, oral 4f, overstimulation, mocking, couch sëx, rough missionary, unsafe sëx, degradation, biting, slapping, squirting, bruising, hair pulling, dom!jk, sub!reader, a little toxicity, idk Sunday fun day ig
note: hope it’s to your liking♡ -dubu
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“Unlock your phone.” Jungkook’s eyes pour into yours as he waits for your compliance.
“What?” you question, aggravated by his unnecessary interest in your coworkers.
“Open it, Y/N.” he insists, leaning back onto the sofa cushion, pressing the cold rectangle into your palm.
“Babe, seriously?” you whine, searching his eyes for a hint of playfulness, finding nothing but an ocean of severity.
You were having a conversation about work, letting your boyfriend know of your upcoming schedule and activities. You accidentally let the name of your project partner slip through your wine-coated lips.
Jungkook’s ears perked up at the ring of a masculine sounding name. You stare at him in defeat, taking the phone from his hand with a pitiful sigh.
“I haven’t even texted him yet, for Christ sakes Jungkook!” you say exasperated.
“Yet.” he replied matter-of-factually.
“It’s not like I chose to work with him, Koo.” you exclaimed dramatically, unlocking your phone and going to his saved contact.
You felt this antagonizing creature clawing at your tender insides for momentary satisfaction. Why did you let the wine talk before your instincts? Jungkook isn’t exactly the kindest when it comes to other men around you.
He wasn’t controlling, but his possessiveness was like an amplified speaker to anyone who even thought of sparing you a second glance.
You hated to admit it, but it was hot. The veins on his tattoo covered arms bulged with a vengeance. Each intricate pattern defining his Herculean figure.
The white T-shirt not leaving much to the imagination, your eyes lingered on his pierced lips as you passed the phone over. Earning a hum of approval from him, he tapped away on your phone.
“Tsk. Tsk. Tsk. You already follow him on Instagram?” he rhetorically asked, a mound of annoyance behind his darkening pupils.
“I follow all of my coworkers, Kookie.” you complained hesitantly, downing the rest of the red liquid that swirled in your large Burgundy glass.
“Listen, I don’t want you working with him. Simple.” he admitted, pressing the unfollow button on Hoseok’s profile.
You were beyond infuriated, you snatched your phone back pressing the follow button in an instant. Not thinking about the consequences that follow your instinctual actions. Jungkook chuckled at your sudden burst of anger.
“Have you lost your fucking mind, Y/N?” he grabbed the phone from your hand, tossing it to the plush rug, letting it slide beneath your glass coffee table.
The wine made you drunk with rage, the other part of you craving a deeper need from your hellish boyfriend. Jungkook rose from his spot on the sofa, grabbing your neck and pinning you below him. He enjoyed the feeling of your palpitating heartbeat on his fingertips.
“Baby—“ you struggled to speak, legs clasping around his knee that rest atop your unclothed hips. Bad day to only wear his shirt, you thought to yourself.
“Shut up.” he glared down at you, putting pressure between your legs.
“Since you want to act like a pathetic slut —“ he pressed his knee down harder, rubbing your clothed pussy agonizingly slow.
“I’ll treat you accordingly.” he let your neck go finally, being met with a few strained coughs from you. You had no time to react, his shirt was being pulled from your body. Your head swimming with anticipation and thoughts of Jungkook’s defilement.
You felt dizzy and exposed to the harsh temperatures of your once comfortable living room. Jungkook watched you writhing under him, a predatory smile lingering on his soft face.
“You think it’s okay to let him spend time alone with you?” he grabbed your face, pinching your cheeks between his large hand.
“Looking at you, speaking to you, touching you.” he peered over your naked body once more, eyes lingering on your bare chest, his free hand stopping above your panty line.
“All this —“ he began lustfully, “ is mine.”
He ripped your panties from your lower half, causing you to scream in frustration, fighting against his muscular arm. He let your face go, delivering 3 small slaps to your cheek. Putting you in check before he had to let whatever caged animalistic intentions loose.
“I’ve had enough of your resistance, Princess.” he whispered hotly in your ear, biting your earlobe before moving to the next ear.
“I can smell how wet you are from here, Y/N.” he bit down again, sending you into a frenzy of pathetic whimpers.
“Your cunt is crying for my attention, but you want to play with some loser?” he questioned cockily, rubbing his bare palm over your soaking pussy.
You moaned his name in retaliation, hips rutting upwards against his calloused hand. He laughed at your feeble attempts at gaining friction, pulling his hand away.
“I’m going to ruin you right here, baby.” A smirk tugged at his lips, he leaned back on the couch. Grabbing his glass from the table and downing what once was at half full capacity.
He sucked in a small breath, biting his bottom lip before turning back to you. Pulling his shirt over his head and revealing everything your eyes have been waiting for.
“I want to leave a trace of me on every inch of your body.” He stood up from his seated position, stalking over you like this was his last chance to consume you.
He yanked your ankles towards him, turning your body to face him like you were praying beneath him. Your legs hung carelessly over the edge of the couch, too dizzy to hold them up for your waiting beast. He smiled down at you in admiration, loving how ruined you already looked beneath him. Pussy leaking onto the sofa cushion, legs sprawled open for him.
“Look at you — so fucking gorgeous” he gleamed, kneeling in front of your body. He ran a hand over your stomach, letting his inquisitive fingers explore your skin.
“Fucking love your tits, Princess.” he leaned down beginning his assault on your chest, licking and sucking at your nipple like a love drunken mad man.
“More — please Kookie,” you begged, arms resting on his back, nails scratching in intricate motions. He hummed against your nipple, tongue circling the bud feverishly.
He pulled away with a lewd pop, spit dribbling down his chin. “No one’s mouth will ever feel as good as mine.”
He started kissing down the center of your chest, occasionally leaving love marks on your memorized sensitive spots. He stopped just above your panty line, loving the way your breath hitched in your throat.
He went in with a wink, tongue lapping at your exposed sensitive skin. His tongue searched your core for unanswered questions, gripping at your hips with every moan you released. He slurped against your clit letting lewd noises drown out the sound of the crackling fireplace. He released one of your hips, bringing his hand down to open your lips. Exposing your clit to the invading muscle, he latched his lips around the bundle of nerves. You screamed in pleasure clasping your shaking legs around his head.
He removed his lips from your pussy, mouth shining with your essence. He worked two fingers over your clit, sliding them down until they hovered over your entrance. He grinned down at you before he inserted them, fingering you fiercely.
“Aww, who makes you feel this good? Hmm Y/N?” He cooed happily, “Who’s pussy is this?” He mewled, setting his fingers into a come hither motion.
“Y-yours—“ you cried out desperately, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten.
He used his free hand to slap your clit repeatedly, sending you into a crying mess. Your legs closed around his arm, body writhing against his unmoving fingers. He pulled you closer and closer to your orgasm, biting his lip in concentration, relishing in the sounds you were making for him.
“Cum, baby. I want to feel you cum on my fingers before I fuck the soul out of you.” he confessed sweetly, sickeningly sweet. You groaned at his words, letting the knot in your stomach burst. You felt stars cloud your vision as his fingers continued their actions.
He used his free hand to slap your pussy again, smiling at the way you cried out for him to stop. He kept going, moaning at your cunt clenching repeatedly around his fingers.
“Koo, please” you implored weakly, hiccuping along with a string of moans.
“Please what? Stop?” he questioned teasingly, “No.”
You felt another knot forming in your lower stomach, his fingers edging you closer to a stronger orgasm. Your stomach felt funny, it felt different, like a new sensation of pleasure was pushing through.
His urged you to cum, his fingers hitting your g-spot with ease. With a few last pumps, you felt yourself release on his fingers, screaming his name in shock. You stomach twitched continuously, opening your eyes to see the aftermath of what just happened.
You opened your eyes to see Jungkook’s lower face glistening with your mess, his pupils dilated and hungry for more. You felt your cheeks grow warm, not knowing what to say next, you’ve never done that before.
“Naughty girl, why’ve you never squirted like that before? Guess I should do better, huh?” He rose from his position on the floor, giving you a second to catch your breath while he removed his shorts.
His cock sprung free from its restraints, mushroom head aggressively leaking with pre-cum. “I want you to take this dick like the slut that you are,” he pumped his hand around his length, moaning at the way you lasciviously looked at him.
He lowered himself down until he was level with your center, rubbing the tip against your sticky folds. You granted him a pitiful whine, biting the corner of your swollen lip as you watched him rub against you.
“Use your words, Y/N. I won’t hold back unless you say it,” he probed, restraining himself from slamming his hips forward. You lay quietly looking him in his eyes, daring him to take you.
“Fuck —“ he pushed into you gradually, “squeeze my dick just like that,” he groans fingers pressing heavily into your hips.
“So big, just want you,” you moaned at him, pussy clenching around his cock again. He pulled away slowly, ramming back into your hips with brute force. His balls lewdly slapping against your skin as he fucked you into the sofa. He picked up his pace, rhythmically filling the room with grunts. He reached forward taking a hold of your hair and yanked your head back, biting your exposed neck. A light sheen a sweat coated your hot skin, beads of sweat running down your cheeks as he fucked you. The living room rang with filthy words of mocking betrayal and faux empathy for your overstimulated figure.
He pressed a hand down on your lower stomach, eyes nearly bulging from his head at the feeling of his cock invading your insides. His actions made your breathing increase, hiccuping over his name. His face contorting in immense pleasure as he demanded you repeat after him.
“Say it. Tell me you love me while you take this dick, Y/N.” you felt your hips aching, knowing marks already began forming on your body.
“I love you Jungkook—“ you cried out obediently, pussy convulsing around his stilled cock. Your orgasms rushing through your bodies. You shivered at the empty feeling you felt when he removed himself. He leaned down pressing a kiss on your neck, wiping some of the sweat from your foreheads.
“I love you too.” he smiled boyishly, breathing heavy and warm on your neck. “I’m taking you to work all next week, babe.”
980 notes · View notes
divinelyparkjimin · 3 months
Text
— bodyguard [m] | knj.
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◦ summary ↠ amidst a swirl of emotions sparked by a jealous encounter at a ball, it seems like guarding isn’t the only thing your bodyguard will be doing to your body.
◦ pairing ↠ namjoon x reader
◦ word count ↠ 3.2k
◦ genre ↠ smut, fluff, angst (barely)
◦ content warning(s) ↠ bodyguard au, daddysgirl!reader, bodyguard!namjoon, dom!namjoon, sub!reader, suggestive/explicit content, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), cunnilingus, creampie, dirty talk, praise kink, size kink, penetrative sex, ejaculation, f. and m. orgasm
a/n: it has been way too long but i am here :) enjoy!
masterlist
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Your legs were glued together, fingers tracing the detailing on your dress as you trembled in the backseat of your dad’s car.
Why did I even agree to this? You couldn’t help but think to yourself.
Your dad was one strong man. Not physically. Not emotionally. But the man’s social status was beyond imagination. Since the man had grown up networking his way to success, he’d wanted you to do the same for yourself, rather than mooch of his own accomplishments. And sure, he could just be looking out for you, protecting you from becoming just another nepo baby out in the world, but you were too nervous for this.
One of the largest networking events in Seoul was to take place in about 30 minutes and you would not be saved from it. In fact, you were on your way there.
Your young, but fairly attractive bodyguard, Namjoon, had offered to take you. While the experience would be shy of a nervous wreckage, you were still relieved he’d be there with you. A single familiar face is better than none.
“You okay?” You were instantly interrupted in the midst of your thoughts. You could see Namjoon’s eyes meet yours in the rearview mirror, his eyebrows furrowed.
“Y-Yeah, sorry, I’m just super nervous about this whole thing.” You heaved a sigh. “How do I know if people will even like me after this? What if I just make a complete fool out of myself?”
You could hear a soft chuckle leave Namjoon’s mouth.
“You’re just overthinking, Y/N. I know you’ll do great.” The boy reassured you with a smile. You returned the smile before turning to your side to see you’d already arrived. The smile on your face quickly faded.
Namjoon got out of the car and scurried over to open your door, assisting you out of the car. Your legs instantly weakened as soon as you stepped out—the nervousness was definitely getting to you.
You stared blankly at Namjoon who was waiting until you’d situated yourself to continue forward. Seeing him out of the car, you gave yourself a moment to take in his appearance. The sleek suit he wore hugged his broad shoulders and emphasized his strong physique, something you never noticed before. His dimples were out as his lips curled upward into a soft smile. You realized you were probably staring at him a little too long and decided to break the silence.
“Sorry, haha, I’m ready to go now.” You straightened out your dress before putting out a thumbs up.
“As you wish, captain.” The boy cheekily nodded before turning to the side with his arm out to direct you ahead.
Upon stepping into the ballroom, you realized how fancy this place truly was. The ballroom unfolded before you like a scene from a fairy tale. Crystal chandeliers dangled from the high ceiling, casting a cascade of golden light that danced upon the polished marble floor. Tables adorned with fine linens and sparkling silverware were strategically placed, surrounded by elegantly dressed guests engaged in animated conversations.
Upon your entry, you were immediately greeted with a bow and offered a glass of wine by a waiter dressed in fully white attire. You took the glass in your hands and made your way to your seat with Namjoon following closely behind.
The echo of your own name disrupted your thoughts as you plopped down into your seat. Startled, you looked up, and there, standing before you, was Taehyung. It took a moment for recognition to dawn, realizing that the familiar face belonged to a boy you used to be really good friends with in your younger days.
Back when you were 7-8 years old, you and Taehyung were inseparable, spending countless hours playing together. However, life took an unexpected turn when Taehyung had to relocate to Switzerland with his dad when you turned 13. The departure, though abrupt, was an inevitable change that left behind fond memories of your shared childhood adventures.
“It’s been a while, hasn’t it?” Taehyung said, placing a hand on your exposed shoulder before trailing it down to your lower back. Namjoon’s eyes instantly directed to Taehyung’s hand placement, a hint of sourness becoming apparent on his face.
“It really has, I was starting to think you might’ve died.” You joked, your playful tone cutting through the subtle tension.
“Hey, I wouldn’t die without telling you. We had some pretty great memories back then, you know?” Taehyung reassured you, but your attention was drawn to his lingering gaze, which traversed the entirety of you before settling back on your face. “You look great, by the way.”
“Thanks, I try.” You replied, trying to keep the conversation casual as you subtly shifted away from his lingering touch. The atmosphere held a mixture of nostalgia and the present with Namjoon’s watchful eyes capturing every detail.
“You know, I’m actually back in Seoul again. I’d love to meet with you sometime, maybe not with so many people around.” Taehyung suggested with an eyebrow raised. “You up for it?”
Namjoon cleared his throat, interjecting, “Sorry to bother, but I think Y/N is needed for something.” The interruption carried a hint of possessiveness but the huskiness in his voice was oddly attractive. “I’m sure she can get back to you later.”
“Oh okay, no problem then.” Taehyung seemed disappointed, but complied anyway, moving his eyes to you. “I’ll see you around then?” With two fingers, he flicked outward from his head to signify his parting before walking elsewhere.
Filled with curiosity, you turned to Namjoon. “What’s the thing you said I’m needed for?” The boy’s eyes widened slightly before he began to scrunch his face in a bit of discomfort. “I actually think I might’ve made a mistake with that, I apologize Y/N.”
“Don’t worry about it okay?” You replied. He nodded, unable to make eye contact with you.
Throughout the night you spoke to a variety of different people: people you’d known long ago, people you’d never met, and people you’d only ever think to meet in your dreams. After a long, tiresome night, it was finally time to head back home.
As you made your way towards the car, the air felt charged with an unspoken tension. Namjoon held the car door open, but there was a subtle stiffness in his demeanor. As you slid into the seat, you couldn't ignore the silent discomfort that lingered between you and Namjoon.
During the drive, the atmosphere inside the car was palpably different. Namjoon's usual ease seemed replaced with a quiet reserve. The hum of the engine filled the space between you, accentuating the unspoken tension. It wasn't long before you couldn't resist addressing the shift in the air.
"Namjoon, is everything okay?" You asked, your voice gentle but concerned.
He glanced at you, his eyes reflecting a mix of emotions. "Yeah, everything's fine," He replied, but the unease remained evident.
"No, something's off. You've been acting a bit distant," you pressed, your intuition picking up on the subtle changes.
Namjoon hesitated for a moment, then admitted, "It's just... seeing you with Taehyung back there. I couldn't help feeling a bit... jealous."
Your eyebrows raised in surprise, "Jealous? Namjoon, he's just an old friend."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair, "I know, it's irrational. But seeing you with him, it triggered something. I guess I just... care about you more than I thought."
The revelation hung in the air, and as you processed his words, a warmth crept into your chest. "Namjoon, you don't have to be jealous.”
As the car eased into a secluded spot, the quiet darkness enveloping you, you couldn't help but voice the thoughts that had been lingering in your mind. The revelation about Namjoon's jealousy had opened a door, and now it was time to let your feelings be known.
"I have to admit," You began, a playful glint in your eye, "I couldn't help but eye you all night. You looked so good in that suit, and, well, I've always had a bit of an attraction to you, both emotionally and, I can't deny it, physically."
Namjoon's eyes met yours, a mix of surprise and a spark of something else. The air between you shifted again, this time with a newfound acknowledgment of mutual desire
“You mind if I join you back there?” The sudden comment by Namjoon caught you by surprise and you could feel your cheeks grow hot. You nodded your head enthusiastically, moving over to make space for him in the back as he made his way over.
The back door opened and closed behind Namjoon who was now sitting right beside you, his face inches from yours. His intense stare remained connected with yours as you took this time to admire his face. Somehow, he managed to look even better up close. The soft creases into his face where his dimples were became visible as a small grin creeped upon his lips at the sight of you.
He seemed to be growing closer to you, nodding his head as if to ask if he could continue. You nodded back and before you knew it, his lips were on yours. His hand cupped the side of your face, guiding you into a rhythm. The kiss was slow and passionate with a bit of roughness to it.
You both reveled in the sensation as your hands explored each other's forms. Your hand slid down his chest while you slowly pressed the rest of your body closer to him. Your leg was swung over his thigh, his hand gripping it tightly.
“Fuck, Y/N.” Namjoon growled, pulling his face back to admire yours. His face was soon found buried in your neck, sucking at the sensitive skin beside your collarbone. You felt tingles as his tongue wet your skin, sucking harder and harder. He parted from your neck not allowing much time to pass before making contact with your skin yet again.
His hand that was on your thigh slid down your frame to lift your dress up. It was then that you could feel the warmth of his hands on your ass cheeks. He used the tips of his fingers to trace circles into your skin, shooting a stimulating sensation throughout your body. You whimpered out, thrusting your hips against his crotch as if to beg for more.
Soon enough, Namjoon’s hands found their way to the back of your dress, fingertips fixed on your zipper. He pulled it down and helped you remove the dress, eyes glued to your figure. The sultry look in his eyes was enough to leave your panties drenched, something he seemed to have noticed upon the removal of your dress.
“Fuck, you’re so wet. Can I touch?” He requested, removing the suit jacket off his own body.
“Yes, please touch me. I need you right now.” You begged, your face scrunched up in ecstasy. Namjoon’s face brightened up at your keenness.
“Mind if I use my tongue? It’s dying to taste you.” His hands seemed to be a step ahead as they were already gripping the band of your panties, quickly pulling them down your legs.
As you were about to respond, Namjoon’s face was already between your legs, his tongue pressing right against your clit. A high pitched moan escaped your mouth at the sudden sense of pleasure that exploded within your body. Without warning, his tongue slid right over your clit yet again, before making tiny circles around the area. He’d tease around the flesh before swiping his tongue against it harder than the last time, leaving you moaning breathlessly.
“F-Fuck!” You screamed out in pleasure, grinding your hips against his tongue to accentuate the feeling. You pressed Namjoon further into your pussy with your hand that was placed at the back of his head, desperately wanting to feel more. He could feel your desperation and only went harder and faster. You could feel the tension slowly building up as you grew closer and closer to your release.
Your head was thrown back in delight and you basked in the overwhelming feeling of pleasure.
“N-Namjoon, f-faster, please!” You could barely manage to get the words out, panting and moaning uncontrollably. Namjoon adhered to your guidance, quickening the pace and pressure of his tongue’s movements along your folds, focusing most of it on your clit. “F-Fuck, I’m close!” You whined, nearing your finish. Responding to your feedback, Namjoon decided to suck hard on your clit, something that seemed to just flip a switch inside of you. Almost instantly, you could feel yourself entirely give out. A profound, pulsating euphoria seemed to course through your veins, rendering you utterly consumed by the sheer bliss that embraced you from head to toe. You came.
“You taste so good, Y/N.” Namjoon pulled back with a huge grin on his face, licking his lips.
“Do I now? So when do I get to taste yours?” You teased.
“You want it?” Namjoon looked down to his own crotch where you could see a boner battling to escape his tight black dress pants. You nodded eagerly, not wasting any time before beginning to unbuckle his belt. Once you were able to get the belt off, you threw it off to the side to continue unbuttoning and unzipping his pants. He slid them off his legs, left with his black boxers on. He hurriedly unbuttoned his dress shirt before nearly ripping it off his body.
With his shirt and pants out of the way, you were able to make out the outline of his shaft. It looked way bigger than you’d imagined, something you can’t help but admit to wondering about in the past. You found yourself near salivating at the pure thought of the man’s length, quickly fixing your hands on the band of his boxers.
“You’re quite the eager one, aren’t you? Why don’t you say please for me first, princess?” The mere usage of the nickname had your stomach erupting with butterflies.
“Please, Namjoon. Let me suck your cock.” Your enchanting eyes seemed to work perfectly on Namjoon as he placed a soft kiss on your lips before letting out a small chuckle.
“You’re such a good girl, Y/N. Go right ahead, it’s all yours.” You pulled down at the band of Namjoon’s boxers, revealing his long, hard cock. It sprung out as soon as the band had fallen below it, as if waiting for your mouth to find its place on it.
As its outline had previously displayed, his manhood was indeed big. It had a slight curve to it and was a rosy shade of pink with veins taking shape along it. After indulging in your moment of admiration, you positioned your face before it, wrapping one of your hands around the bottom of his shaft. You looked up at him before proceeding, noticing the way his lustful eyes followed your every movement.
Wanting to start slow, you stuck your tongue out, gliding it along his hard member. You started with a small area but went back again, licking from the bottom of his balls to the tip. He let out a low grunt as you noticed his cock twitch in excitement. You quickened your pace, watching Namjoon’s face respond to the contact of your tongue.
“You’re so good at this, fuck.” Namjoon moaned, moving a strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes were locked on you as he watched you have your way with his cock. After you’d gotten enough of the licking, you decided to go even further, placing your lips atop his throbbing hard-on. You could taste the pre-cum that lightly coated his tip, scaling his cock further into your mouth. You tightened the suction of your lips, bobbing your head up and down to a steady rhythm.
“You know, I never thought I’d get to see your pretty face on my cock.” Namjoon uttered breathily in a low tone. “I’m a lucky guy, aren’t I?” Too caught up in pleasing him to respond, you continued to suck and began stroking his cock at the same time to increase the pleasure. Namjoon was starting to grow close and you went faster, wanting to make him cum faster. Before he could finish, he pulled himself out to which your head turned up to stare at him with a confused look on your face.
“I’d rather save my cum for your pussy. Don’t wanna miss out on seeing you all filled up.” Namjoon placed a kiss on your lips before directing you further. “Lean back and spread those legs out, princess.”
You quietly but swiftly followed his directions.
“You’re on the pill, right?” Namjoon questioned, with a bit more of a serious expression. You nodded, allowing him to proceed. He positioned his crotch in front of yours before slowly inching his dick right into your hole. You moaned loudly upon his entrance, which was followed by several other thrusts.
The thickness of his shaft filled you up entirely, allowing you to feel its every detail and contour against your walls.
“F-Fuck your cock is so b-big!” You whimpered as Namjoon continued to slam his meat faster and deeper into your moist cave, with no sign of slowing down.
“Yeah? Tell me more, Y/N. I wanna hear how good my cock makes you feel.” Namjoon’s alluring tone had you captivated.
“I like how it f-fills me up! A-And how l-long it—aah!” You struggled to get any words out, but tried to remain compliant.
“It does fill you up, huh?” Namjoon smirked as you couldn’t help but moan out. He was relentless with his thrusts, going harder and harder. He didn’t seem to be tiring out whatsoever and was pressing further toward your g-spot with every thrust. The sight of his toned torso and thrusting hips into you was a view you just couldn’t get sick of.
“Fuck, Namjoon!” You screamed out as he slammed his tip against your g-spot. You could feel the contact of the flesh send tingles throughout the rest of your body and could only grow desperate for more. “Please, d-don’t stop, faster!” Your pressing whimpers only motivated Namjoon further. He seemed to really be getting the hang of it as he repeatedly hit your g-spot, helping you rapidly grow even closer to a finish.
“A-Ah, I’m close, Namjoon! I-I don’t think I can hold it!” You whinged as Namjoon thrusted even faster. Your moans grew in pitch and volume as you reached your climax, realizing that Namjoon had also reached his own when you’d felt a warm runny liquid seep out from your core.
You were left panting, as was Namjoon, the two of you left with the giddiest of expressions on your face. As the lingering bliss settled between you and Namjoon, a comfortable silence enveloped the air. He gently placed kisses on your forehead and lips, and despite the intimate moment, a hint of shyness crept in, painting your cheeks a rosy hue.
In the quiet aftermath, Namjoon broke the tranquility with a nervous laugh, his gaze meeting yours
"You don't think your dad will fire me after this or anything, right?"
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a/n: unedited but i hope you guys still like! feel free to leave thoughts and comments woo
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554 notes · View notes
veethefreeelf · 7 months
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RM / KIM NAMJOON Fic Recs (I)
M - Mature (minors DNI) / F - Fluff / A - Angst / HpE - Happy Ending
None of these works are mine, I tagged all the authors, make sure to go to the authors page, like and reblog their works
new guy - one-shot, 5.5K - by @kithtaehyung - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE
Solace - one-shot, 13.5K - by @m-yg93 - full Masterlist -> M / minor A / F / HpE
the interpretation of dreams - one-shot, 13.8K - by @ppersonna - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE
out of my league mini Series by @ppersonna (go through their masterlist, trust) -> M / A / F / HpE
lost in the funhouse - one-shot, 9.7K - by @dovechim - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE?
The Body Through Time - one-shot, 10.9K - by @yeoldontknow - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE
False awakening - one-shot, 6.8K - by @taleasnewastime - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE
Between the pages - one-shot, 4.5K - by @hwanghyunjinenthusiast - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE
you, after all - one-shot, 6.8K - by @effortandmore - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE
the sleeping hours - one-shot, 12K - by @effortandmore again because their writing is beautiful -> M / A / F / HpE
tuesday moon - one-shot, 7.7K - by @effortandmore again. Just read all of their Masterlist, please, you won't regret it -> M / F / HpE
worth all your while Series by @effortandmore (just leave here and go to their page) -> M / minor A / F / HpE
promises - one-shot, 18K - by @jeonbunnie - full Masterlist -> M / major A / F / You can choose your ending
lacuna - one-shot, 7K - by @eoieopda - full Masterlist - this one has a prequel and a sequel, do yourself a favor and read all of them -> M / A / F / HpE
The Making of: Love - one-shot, 12.7K - by @inkjam-moon - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE
Not Another Holiday Romance - one-shot, 32.3K - by @kpopfanfictrash - full Masterlist - this one is one of my absolute favorites, they never disappoint -> M / A / F / HpE
The Rich Man's Crochet Club - one-shot, 32.4K - by the incredible @kpopfanfictrash again -> M / A / F / HpE
My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold Series by @daechwitatamic - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE
give and take - one-shot, 10.5K - by @ddaenggtan - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE
midnight wishes - one-shot, 10.3K - by @ddaenggtan again because they write Namjoon beautifully -> M / A / F / HpE
Moon Child - one-shot, 16K - by @adonis-koo - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE
Scent of a Woman - one-shot, 10K - by @sahmfanficbts - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE
The Take-Home Test - one-shot, 11.3K - by @versigny - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE
keep in step - one-shot, 2.6K - by @jjkeverlast - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE
On With The Show - one-shot, 33.9K - by @joheunsaram - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE
reflection - one-shot, 18.6K - by @jimilter - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE
A Fine Line Series by @moni-logues - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE
All Night - one-shot, 12K - by @luaspersona - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE
real magic - one-shot, 16.7K - @here2bbtstrash - full Masterlist -> M / minor A / F / HpE
deep end - one-shot, 4.2K - by @here2bbtstrash again because their writing is incredible -> M / F / HpE
The Stand-In - one-shot, 13.5K - by @yoonia - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE
doom boy - one-shot, 4.2K - by @soft4gguk - full Masterlist -> M / HpE
s u g a r - one-shot, 10.8K - by @joonberriess - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE
rivals academia - one-shot, 4.2K - by @aseaofyoongi - full Masterlist -> M / minor A / HpE
Love Language - one-shot, 14K - by @rmnamjoons - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE
Castaways - one-shot, 25.5K - by @rmnamjoons - this one is absolute GOLD -> M / A / F / HpE
all aboard! (the passion express) - one-shot, 10.8K - by @ve1vetyoongi - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE
Inside My Mind - one-shot, 19.2K - by @jimlingss - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE
His Majesty - one-shot, 9.6K - by @yoonieper - full Masterlist -> M / A / minor F / HpE
Dragonfire - one-shot, 7.3K - by @hamsterclaw - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE
obsessed - one-shot, 13.8K - by @namjuicyy - full Masterlist - really read the trigger warnings for this one please, it's not for everyone (it's brilliant tho) -> M / A / F / HpE
Untitled - one-shot, 16K - by @ahundredtimesover - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE
Dino-Mite - one-shot, 34.7K - by @chimcess - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE
Cherry Muffins and Lavender Tea - one-shot, 8.1K - by @roses-ruby - full Masterlist -> M / minor A / F / HpE
English literature - one-shot, 7.6K - by @tayegi - full Masterlist - this one also has a sequel, be sure to check it out as well -> M / F / HpE
glasses-clad boy - one-shot, 10K - by @jeongi - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE
Love Borrowed - one-shot, 7K - by @goldenkookietae - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE
Love is Blind - one-shot, 7.4K - by @helenazbmrskai - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE
the snow globe effect - one-shot, 10K - by @gukyi - full Masterlist -> M / F / HpE
there was a bug - one-shot, 7K - by @kimnjss - full Masterlist -> M / A / F / HpE
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559 notes · View notes
yoonia · 6 months
Text
The (im)Perfect Ending | knj (18+)
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⤑ Summary | There are stories written about meeting the right person at the wrong time. In your story, he was the right person who was all wrong for you to claim. He was your best mistake, while you were nothing more but a small chapter in his story. A story with an ending that had been written long before you came into the picture. But then life brings you back together again, allowing your unabashed hope to slither its way back in. The only thing you can do is to wonder—will this be just another interlude in his story, or are you given a second chance to rewrite your whole story, with a new pen to write your own happy ending?
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⤑ Title | The (im)Perfect Ending ⤑ Pairings | Namjoon x female reader ⤑ Genre | Past Lovers!au, Second Chance, Infidelity, Smut, Angst
⤑ Story Notes | Written in 2nd person POV (in case you’re new to my writing, I don’t use ‘y/n’ coding as all of my lead characters are considered as OCs). This story involves acts of infidelity. Both characters are mature, as the story is set years after their relationship ended. Namjoon is older than OC/reader (Joon would be in his mid to late 30s, OC is in her late 20s), so there is a bit of an age gap. There will be mentions and depictions of pregnancies and surprise babies. This story is purely fictional, any similarities in the usage of name and circumstances are purely coincidental. This is roughly edited, but I hope it won’t affect your reading experience too much.
⤑ Ratings & Warnings | +18 / M for Mature; infidelity, older man!Namjoon, former underclassman!reader, soft dom!Namjoon, alcohol consumption, mentions of pregnancy, surprise babies, involves multiple explicit sex scenes, including: sexual tension, mentions/implications of first time sex, partly clothed sex, clothed foreplay, kitchen sex, biting, rubbing, groping, body worshipping, dry humping, dry orgasm, dirty talk, mentions/implications of deep-throating, mentions/depictions of public sex, pain kink, praise kink, stripping, nudity, implied size kink, breast/nipple play, hand job, neck kissing, finger sucking, fingering, clit play, oral sex (female and male receiving), grinding, riding, biting, face fucking/riding, cum eating, hair pulling, light choking, manhandling, begging, crying (not really involved during sex), reader may have gone into a headspace at one point, orgasm control (minor/implied), doggy style, rough sex, vanilla sex, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, implied creampie, aftercare.
⤑ Word count | 43,8k words
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⤑ Main Masterlist | Taglist | Feedback | Mailbox | Ko-fi | Music companion
⤑ Read on AO3
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Sometimes I wonder if things would have been different if we had met earlier.  If my life would be different today if I had made different decisions then.  Had it been me who decided to walk away, just when you finally opened your heart to me?  Had I been reading things wrong, and that your parting words had meant something else?  I wonder if the things that you said to me then were never meant as words of goodbye, but a wish for something more. That we could be something else.  But there is no way that we could ever change the past, is there? And look at us now.  Our past decisions had only left us stranded on each of our own’s paths, and we have become nothing else but broken pieces drifting in the ocean of sorrow and pain, where our memories became nothing more but rotten dust haunting us in our dreams. 
“Hi.” 
A moment passes, and just when you are starting to believe that this is just another one of those dreams that have been haunting you during your long and lonely nights, the man standing before you speaks. His voice sounds so deep that you can feel its vibration reaching deep in your chest. You can almost feel his gentle words caressing your skin when he answers, 
“It’s been a while.” 
If you had thought that you have had his smile engraved so profoundly in your memories, then you would have been wrong. Because the moment he smiles, it looks nothing like what you remembered. It looks much better. Way better. And it shouldn’t be stirring the flutters in your chest or bringing warmth within your body the moment you get to see it again after so many years have passed. 
“I think ‘a while’ sounds like an understatement,” you find yourself speaking, surprising yourself with how steady your voice sounds when every bit of your senses seems to be shaking in his presence. He softly laughs at your comment, and it sounds so rich that you feel your heart swelling and beating faster. And you hate it. 
Because your heart isn’t supposed to be doing these things. Not after so long. 
“You, uh—you look good,” he says, coaxing a smile out of you, though you try your hardest to hold it back from showing. 
“You don’t look too bad yourself, Kim Namjoon,” you answer him, drawing his smile to grow a bit deeper. And again, you hate it. Not his smile. It would be impossible to hate his smile. You just hate the way you are unable to look away from it, or the way you find yourself being drawn further when his smile lingers. 
“I’ll take it as a compliment,” Namjoon says with a tenderness that isn’t supposed to be present, before his eyes flicker down, shamelessly taking you in. “Are you on your way back from work?” 
Glancing down at your handbag, the one that is so obviously showing him the necessities that you regularly carry with you to work, and then to the blazer you are wearing over your cashmere sweater and the pair of jeans that you always wear on the days when work is going slow, you nod with a smile. “Yes, I just got off,” you answer him, and the brief reprieve that you get by looking away from his face brings everything back—the movements from the crowd around you, the sounds coming from the chatters and the shops in the surrounding area—every single thing that is currently happening around you. Everything that has been muted in his presence comes flooding into your senses, reminding you of where you are. 
You weren’t lying when you told him that you were coming back from work. You have no idea what had driven you to stop by at the mall tonight, when you would normally return straight away to the warm comfort of your small and quiet apartment after a long day. But seeing him standing before you, an actual presence of himself instead of a mirage, you wonder if it had been fate that brought you here.
“I figured I could spare some time to do some window shopping before going home,” you continue, though it sounds more as if you are reasoning with yourself instead of answering his unspoken question. 
“You’re alone, then?” 
You nod. “Yeah, I am.” 
“Then, uh—” he stops, suddenly looking a bit unsure with himself for a brief moment as he takes a quick glance around. “Do you have some free time before you go home? What do you say about grabbing coffee with me? I would love to, uh—catch up.” 
You should say no. Refusing his invitation would be the only sane and mature thing to do, but the words refuse to come out of your lips. Walking away would be the right thing, just like how you did the same years ago. But just like then, before the choice to grow mature and wise ever came to you, your heart chooses differently for you. And it would be the one option that you have yet to decide if it would be the wrong one, or something that you would never regret in the future. 
“Yes, I’d love to.”
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“I see that some things haven’t changed,” Namjoon says as he looks the coffee selection that you ordered—iced cappuccino, double shot, no whip cream or sugar. Your eyes fall on his order as he places it on the table before he carefully takes the seat right across from you. 
Double Iced Américano. 
You still order the same thing as well, you wonder to yourself instead of voicing it out loud. “Some things have changed, though,” you find yourself saying instead as you take a slow sip of your cold drink. 
“I guess so,” he softly laughs. “You wear your hair longer now.” 
“And you’ve gotten married.” 
You never meant to sound snappy about it, yet the words simply slipped right out of your lips before you could stop it. But you find no remorse when you look up at him to see his reaction. Instead of getting flustered, the look in his eyes shows no change in its light. There is a tease there in his gaze, the one that had once stolen your heart—and has yet to return it as whole—years back, but there is also the astonished look that you are still quite familiar with. The same one that he would give you for your sharp tongue, which was something that seemed to amuse him a lot then, and may amuse him today still. 
“So you’ve heard the news.” 
You raise your eyebrows. “Heard of it?” you scoff at him. “Obviously, there was no way I would’ve missed it when I had the delightful privilege to receive the invitation through my mail.” 
To your pleasure, he seems surprised to hear this. His eyes grow wide, and there is a sourness that you feel coming from him as he gives you a wry smile. “I never—” Namjoon stops himself and closes his eyes. The sigh that comes out of him sounds exasperated, filled with pure exhaustion that pricks at you right in the chest. “She must’ve sent it to you,” he murmurs softly almost to himself, and you can almost hear the disbelief in his voice before he looks up at your face. 
“How kind of her,” you dryly say to him, and you indulge the pleasure of seeing him react with a grimace. 
You keep your eyes on him as you sip your coffee, to see the apology that is written so plainly in his gaze. Silence lingers, and you wait with bated breath to hear what he is about to say.
“I’m—” 
A tight clench rises in your chest when you start to predict what his next words would be, so you quickly stop him before he could say them out loud. “Don’t,” you whisper to him. “Don’t apologise for her when it’s not your fault. It makes it even worse.” 
Namjoon shakes his head slowly while keeping his gaze low, and you enjoy seeing the sight of remorse that appears all over his face. You shouldn’t be entertained by this, but somehow, it feels—good. 
It feels cathartic to be able to dump all of this on him after years of keeping this to yourself, as there had never been any chance for you to speak to him after you parted ways. And you cannot deny the pleasure you are feeling from seeing the pain that flickers in his eyes. It appears only briefly that you might have missed it had you not been keeping your eyes on him. 
But it still helps make you feel as if all the past hurt that you had to keep inside for many years had all been worth it. Only for seeing him experience the same thing you did then; to be caught off guard and completely at a loss, without knowing how to react or feel when reality was thrust back at your face, forcing you to open your eyes to see it. 
Back then, you simply took it as your punishment. Because, in a way, you did deserve it. 
You both did. 
“I’m not apologising for her. For anyone, on that matter. I’m apologising on my own behalf,” he says with a deep sigh. “I’m sorry. That was”—he swallows thickly—”that seems so wrong, in so many ways. I can’t even begin to imagine how you must have felt.” 
“Then don’t,” you calmly say to him, once again surprising yourself when you manage to keep your voice even, or to keep a smile on your face when you finally get to look at him in the eyes as you are telling him all of this. “Don’t even try to understand how I would feel because you may never understand. Besides, it was a long time ago, wasn’t it? None of these things matter anymore.” 
A wry smile comes to his face, and instead of feeling happy about it, you feel—angry. 
Despite everything that had happened, despite all the hurt, you hate seeing how it seems to be weighing on him. You hate wondering about the kind of guilt that he might be feeling now, if there is truly any. Instead of celebrating it, all you want to do is to reach across the table to console him. 
The thought almost makes you laugh. Yet you wonder if perhaps everything that people around you kept telling you back then had been right, that time did heal you, after all. Because the pain that nearly killed you years ago no longer hurts as much as it did back then, even if you can still feel remnants of it residing inside your fractured heart. 
Years ago, even saying his name alone would have made you feel as if every part of your heart was breaking into pieces until it felt like you had none of it left. Years ago, you even found yourself wishing that you could hurt him the way he made you feel. Yet that feeling no longer exists now when you are looking at him. It doesn’t feel good at all to see the way his eyes dim at the knowledge that he has a hand in causing you pain even long after everything between you had ended. 
But healing isn’t supposed to bring a wave of new emotions rising inside your chest as you look into his eyes—be it to feel sympathy and to wish that you could take away the sorrowful look that you see gleaming in his gaze. It isn’t supposed to bring back all the old feelings that you had long buried deeply, or to have all the memories of the past come flashing through your mind the longer you look into his eyes and be in his presence. 
Your skin prickles uncomfortably as the feeling grows more intense. Walking away from him would be the right thing to do for you. Just like how it did when you had chosen to do it that many years ago when you walked away from his life, leaving him behind with your heart fractured and only a small dignity of yours left intact. 
And yet, something tells you that you might be too late. Even the memory of your past hurt wouldn’t be able to help convince you to walk away, when the strong pull of his presence is impossible for you to deny.  
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Sometimes my mind would wander back to the letter that you sent me then.  To remind me of the words that you had secretly hidden between the letters, between the consoling words that you gave me while you talked about broken dreams, fallen hopes, and unanswered prayers.  ‘I love you.’ For a long time, I wished and prayed so badly to hear those words coming from you. Yet the moment you gave them to me, there was a sense of finality hidden among them that was impossible for me to ignore. Those words you sent to me gave me happiness, sadness, relief, and grief, because it had sounded like an answered prayer to me, while at the same time, it sounded like a goodbye. An end to the sinful journey that we both started.  And then I left, because loving you was becoming too much, too painful, knowing that there was a different future waiting for you at the other end of that journey. I left while knowing that I had earned your love and carried a piece of your heart with me, because I could never bear the thought of having to let go of your love and giving your heart back so you could give them to another. Because even after goodbye, you were still mine, just as much as I would always be yours.
“Why would you choose to walk down that path when you knew that there was no light waiting for you at the end of the tunnel?” 
A good friend of yours gave you those exact words then, after you shared with them everything—about your secret, about your sin, about the forbidden love that you had to hide from the world which you preserved only for him.
Namjoon had been with her for a long period of time before you met him. A story that had been written long before you came into his life. But love never chooses to whom it would fall onto, striking you so deep in the chest ever since the day you first met him and you were unable to ignore it when it began to blossom. For a long time, you tried to fight against it, to deny its presence, and you kept refusing to acknowledge it. But no matter how hard you tried, the feeling kept growing stronger, fighting harder to survive until it took root within you so deep that you finally had to admit defeat. 
You should have kept it to yourself. To keep it as your own dirty little secret until it would fade away with time. And yet, just like always, the truth managed to find its way to come out onto the world, no matter how hard you had tried to conceal it. 
And when it finally happened, he never looked away, nor did he ever deny or push you out of his path. Instead, he chose to embrace you, to hold you against his chest just when you tried to run away and bury your feelings for him. Instead of pushing you away, he kissed every drop of tear that you had shed when you allowed yourself to bare your heart for him to see and let him know that you loved him. 
The moment that you fully accepted that your love for him was forbidden, and that there was no way you could allow that feeling to grow any further, he chose to abandon all logic and came to find you instead. You were ready to say goodbye, and yet he pulled you into his arms and kissed away every broken word that was leaving your lips, opening his heart that was supposed to have been claimed by another just so he could keep you as a part of him, unwilling to let go. 
“If this story had been written with a different ink, a different pen, or even a different hand, then perhaps we could have a different ending.” 
Those were the words that Namjoon gave you then, when he held you through what was supposed to be a cold and lonely night. It was the night that he spent piecing every broken part of your heart which had been shattered when you bare your soul for him. Those words were supposed to help you see that there was already a different ending written to his story, while yours remained unseen. An unwritten plot that the universe had yet to reveal. You should have realised it then, that the two of you would have never been a part of each other’s ending, and that your paths would only end in an intersection where he would have to take a different path to yours.
But Namjoon made it hard for you to see it when he spent all night making love to you, allowing you to see and feel what it was like to be in his arms, to feel his touches and kisses, and to embrace pleasure that no other man but him could have ever given you. Then he continued to make it hard for you to open your eyes and see reality when he kept you blinded by his love, binding you to him with the wanton pleasure that he kept showing you each time he saw fear and uncertainty in your eyes. 
You knew then that it was wrong to continue, yet you found it hard to end your sinful act when it felt so right to be in his arms, to be kissing him so freely until he could feel all the love you kept inside. Never once did you feel any remorse, even as the long nights progressed into weeks, months, and then years, until the moment everything fell apart. 
The memories which keep flashing in your mind to remind you of the past should also remind you of all the hurt, of all the despair that you had gone through back then. Instead, just like then, you choose to keep your eyes closed shut and push them all the way to the back of your mind as you return his kisses, to revel in his touches, as you once again fall into his warmth after he opened his arms to let you back in. 
“We shouldn’t be doing this—” you try to speak between the deep kiss you are sharing, though whatever you are trying to tell him quickly fades and withers when he kisses them away, drawing a series of soft moans instead of words. 
“No, we shouldn’t,” Namjoon simply answers as he pulls away from the kiss, yet he gives you no sign of letting go. From your lips, he trails his kisses down the column of your throat, pressing his hot kiss right against the very spot on the side of your neck that would always make you squirm. How he still remembers how to find it is beyond you. But he does it so naturally, as if the years that you spent apart had been nonexistent. 
“And I thought you said that you had to go home,” you try to speak again, though the moans that keep escaping you and the way you keep arching into him are betraying your words, allowing him to see how much you meant none of it. 
“I did say that,” he hums against your skin. This time, he does pull away, barely, just enough so he can look at your face while his arms are still wrapped around you, denying you a chance to escape. “But going home is the last thing that I have in mind right now.” 
“What—” you almost choke, almost finding it hard to speak when you open your eyes and you get to see the familiar look in his eyes looking back at you. The deep passion, the love, the desire—everything that you have missed for so long now appearing right before you. Things are not supposed to turn out this way, and you are not supposed to let that silly little hope of yours being revived from the deepest part of your soul where it had been buried and left forgotten when you ask him, “What are you thinking now, then?” 
“You,” Namjoon says, sounding determined and completely sure of himself, with not a slither of doubt can be heard from his voice. “All I have in mind right now is you. All I can think of right now is all that I want to do to you, and what I want to make you feel.” 
“And what is that?” 
His eyes seem to be lost in you as he grazes your lips with the tip of his thumb. “Everything. I want you to feel everything, so you’ll remember how good we were together.” 
But I never forgot. 
That small voice of conscience finally reveals itself, only to admit the truth that you have been denying to hear.
Perhaps that had been the reason why you refused to end the night when it was time to part ways with him after that impromptu coffee date. Maybe that was the reason why you invited him into your home, the small apartment that would usually feel so cold and desolated, now burning hot with the desire that you are sharing with him. 
Whatever it was that had crossed your mind when you opened the door to your home for him to enter had not been anything close to this, nor did it involve him lifting you up onto the kitchen counter where he can part your legs for him so he can step closer, pressing hard against your heated center as he captures your lips once again into a deep kiss. 
You barely managed to take off your shoes right after you entered through the door when he pulled you into his arms. With his lips capturing yours, he managed to shut your mind until he succeeded to corner you in your own home, placing you in the same position as you did back then when you first gave in to the desire which he aroused inside you. 
There are words still left unspoken, but everything else becomes nothing more than a blur of motions as you easily melt into his kiss, and it doesn’t take long for you to realise that he was right. 
Every touch he is giving you, every kiss, every soft hum that he releases when you return every single sinful act of his continue to bring you back to the past. You have never forgotten how good it felt when you were with him, and the memories from the past are only making things better, intensifying everything that is happening to your body and what he is doing to you now. 
A groan slips out of him as he moves to slip your blazer off of your shoulders. Once it is gone, your sweater comes next, and he leaves you breathless as he easily pulls it over your head and tosses it away. 
With your upper body now exposed and your chest is heaving with your deep breaths, he comes to a halt. His eyes trail down, resting on your breasts. With only your lacy bra left to cover your skin, his gaze feels like a gentle caress. You can feel its heat, as if he is touching you with his fingers when they remain on your waist, keeping a gentle hold on you there with only his thumbs moving in small circles and keeping away from where your body is warming up under his perusing gaze. 
The moment he finally moves, everything within you sparks alight.
Deft fingertips are moving on your skin with a light touch that is not bringing as much heat as his gaze does, yet the responses your body is giving to his touches are intense. Your body simply burns hot with your desire and you have never before felt this alive. As he kisses your lips, his hands trail their way to your covered breasts, touching the area where you are most sensitive to his touch. He easily brings back a part of you that has been lying dormant. Your senses are being awakened by his touch, and he makes you feel as if you have been asleep for so long and he is waking you up with his kiss, his touches, and the soft sounds that he makes as he slowly devours you. 
“You’re more beautiful than how I remember you,” Namjoon says as he pulls away from the kiss, almost whispering when his words are filled with raw emotion mixed in with his desire. 
“I’m flattered that you still remember me,” you answer him with a shaky voice, drawing a low chuckle out of him.
“How could I ever forget you?” Namjoon looks at you straight in the eyes as he says this. There is an invisible clench in your chest when you can clearly see that he is being sincere. And it scares you so much to see it that you simply choose to deny it.
“Don’t speak as if you’ve spent your life thinking about me when you’ve been living your own life for the past seven years,” you say to him, though it is becoming a struggle to keep your voice even this time around when the fractures in your heart begin to reemerge together with your memories of him, refusing to be ignored. 
Your words cause him to raise his eyebrows. “You won’t believe me if I tell you that I do think about you?” 
Scoffing at him, you try to press down the hope brewing in your chest that he might be telling you the truth. “And supposedly you did think of me, then what would you be thinking about?” 
“Everything. I think about everything that has to do with you,” he immediately answers, once again making you believe that he actually means it. “I would think of your face, your beautiful smile, and the sound of your voice.” His eyes search your face, and he is taking his time with it as if he wants to memorise everything about you, while his hands begin to move again. His fingertips are gentle as they come grazing on your skin, yet it is still enough to make you shudder, to feel warmth rising from wherever he is touching you. 
A ghost of a smile flickers on his face once he notices this. “Other times, I’d think about your skin—how it grows warm when I touch you, especially right where you are sensitive to be touched. Like—” Namjoon gazes down as his hands slide upward, until his fingers reach the hem of your bra and his thumbs graze against your soft mound, drawing a gasp out of you when you feel a sudden heat rushing through your body. A grin appears on his face at the way you are responding to him by arching your chest into his touch, and he softly hums, “Yes, just like this.” 
Your breath is caught in your chest when you feel so much within such a short amount of time and with only the little things that he is doing to you. His deep gaze continues to bring you a myriad of sensations that intensify everything that his touches are bringing to your body, while his words are causing the flame within you to come back alive. 
You say nothing to him in return, taking in everything that he is trying to say. Namjoon doesn’t seem to be completely done with baring his truth yet, and the more you listen to him, the more you find it hard not to bare your own truth for him to see.
“I would think about your eyes. I could never forget the way you look at me, and how honest those eyes always become that I would almost always be able to know what you are thinking,” he continues, and you can hear the tremble in his voice. As if he is overcome with emotions as he is saying those words. 
“And I would think about the gloss that would appear in those eyes when you are feeling something so intense. Just like how they look to me now. But I always love looking into them more when I’m touching you,” he says this with a small smile, his eyes looking deep into yours while he continues to move his hands, gaining more confidence when you make no move to stop him. He reaches up to brush his fingers across your covered breasts, his steady palms pressing into the lacy cup that your bra seems to melt under the heat of his touch. 
Taken over by the delectable rush flowing through your body, your chest arches into his hands and your soft moans start escaping your lips before you can stop it. Then he draws more reaction when he moves his thumbs and presses down at your covered nipples, causing you to gasp and almost miss the words he is saying next, “And I love the way you would look at me when I’m making you scream my name while you—” 
Come. 
The word echoes in your mind as he suddenly moves his fingers to pinch around your nipples, causing your entire body to quiver with the mixture of pain and pleasure that he is drawing from your body. 
Pleased to see your reaction, he draws his hands away, moving them to your back as he leans closer. As his fingers begin tugging at the clasps holding your bra together, his lips return to yours, distracting you with a deep kiss while he works to peel the flimsy thing off of your skin. He has it in his hand when he pulls away from the kiss. With a flick of his wrist, your bra disappears from sight. He wastes no time to continue further. His hands return to your body, touching your bare breasts with his gentle touch which gradually grows firmer, drawing shudders from you as the warm skin of his palms come brushing across your hardened nipples. His hands linger for a moment longer before he continues trailing them down the curves of your body that he can reach. 
You are left speechless, unable to speak or react other than to allow yourself to revel in the pleasure. With your mind muddled in bliss under his wandering touches, it is hard to control the way your body is responding to everything that he is giving you. Each pulse of your blood feels hot in your veins, as it flows down from the parts that he is touching to the center of your desire hidden all the way down south. A raw, unfiltered want that feels so intense and is completely beyond your control takes over. Holding on to the edge of the counter with a tight grip, you begin rocking your hips, pressing down against the cold surface of your kitchen counter to satiate the pulsing need coming from your core. 
His own hunger is palpable through his eyes as he is watching you move. The sight of you trying your best to quench your need seems to entrance him. It draws a deep groan from his chest right before he moves, stopping you from going further without him being a part of it. 
Gripping you at the waist, Namjoon brings you forward until you are at the edge of the counter. Your legs slide open and part wider for him. He tugs you against him, pressing your softness against his hardness as he captures your lips again. Your body shudders when you can feel him, as the testament of his desire comes brushing against your covered center. 
Your hips jerk when he presses into you harder. Even with both pairs of pants getting in the way, it is still not enough to hide the intense pulses rising from both of your bodies. Taken over by your own pure and raw instinct, your hands rise, gripping at his hair as your mouth moves against his, returning his hungry kiss with your own. His arms grow tight around you, holding you firmly to him as he sucks your bottom lip until he draws another gasp from you. An intense shudder runs through your body with the pain that he inflicts on you, though the way your breasts are rubbing against his hard chest is quick to wash it away, replacing it with a blissful rush that almost pushes you over the edge.
Tightening your hold on his hair, you begin to move again, rocking your hips against him at a steady pace, gliding and rubbing the source of your heat against the hard line of his cock that you can feel straining from under his pants. You hear him moaning at the friction, though the sound that he is making gets drowned into the kiss as he continues pressing his lips on yours. 
Namjoon catches your lower lip again and sucks harder, drawing a whimper through your lips just as you are rewarded with pure, unsheltered pleasure. A pleasure that rocks you through your soul, one that ignites the desire inside you until you cry out, drawn by its intense wave rushing through your body. Breaking away from the kiss, he takes you in his arms, holding you against his chest until the shudders of your release slowly winds down. Warm breath lands on your bare shoulder as he softly sighs, finding content in the way your bodies fold together in a tight embrace. 
“I missed this,” he hums, though his voice almost sounds like a moan. As if watching you unravel is already enough to put him on the edge. He tightens his arms around you, keeping you engulfed in his warmth as if he is afraid that you might slip away. “I missed us. I missed everything.” 
“I missed us too,” you murmur against his neck with a content sigh. Breathing in his scent, your body slowly recovers. With a deep inhale of breath, you pull away from him. Disappointment sparks through his eyes when you gently push him off of you. Once you are apart, his whole body stiffens. There is no doubt in your mind that he is expecting to see guilt in your eyes when you look up at him, and perhaps for you to kick him out of your home once the blissful fog fades and reality sinks in. 
Because the two of you have crossed the line, and there is only one option for either of you to choose to fix this.
Deep down, you know that choosing the most logical option would be the wise thing to do. To end this now and never look back again. But with the soft hum of your pleasure still surging through your veins, and your heart is beating in a way that is making it seem as if it hadn’t been truly living and beating the entire time you spent your life without him, you know that it will be too late to turn back now. There is no way you can continue living without his touch now that he has managed to rouse your soul back alive. Now that he has succeeded in reminding you of how good he can make you feel.
“What I missed the most is to touch you,” you murmur with a sigh, and his eyes grow wide. No doubt he is completely caught off guard to hear you say this instead of telling him to walk out the door and kicking him out of your life. A visible sigh of relief comes out through his lips, though his shoulders still seem tense.
“Is that really what you want?” he questions you. And for the first time ever, you notice that he has grown nervous as he anticipates your answer. Seeing this helps eliminate every single doubt that you may have felt since the moment he came through the door and he chose to let go of every last bit of his restraint to kiss you. Because you can finally tell that he sincerely wants this too. Hopefully just as much as you want this to happen.
Without looking away, you answer him with, “More than ever,” before reaching down to start pushing your pants down your legs. You shift on the counter and raise your hips to lower your pants, almost stumbling when you can barely hold up your weight until he lends a hand. He is quick to make a move to gently grab your waist to keep you from falling while you kick away your pants and your flimsy—and now completely soiled—panties, until they are out of the way. 
Seeing that you are now completely bare for him, he makes his move to strip down. You reach for his shirt just as he begins pulling at it. It takes merely a few seconds until it is gone, followed by his shoes, socks, and then his pants quickly joining the pile of mess laid on the floor, and there is not a single thread left as he stands before you. 
For a moment, neither of you makes a move.
It feels like the space around you falls into a blissful silence as you find yourselves completely stripped bare, with nothing left to get in between as you are facing each other in the silence of your kitchen. Aside from the light coming from the microwave behind you, neither of you had the chance to turn on the overhead lamps that would normally light up the room. The existing light casts a soft, nearly muted golden glow across the room. Under the dim lighting, he glows. Just like how he would often appear to you whenever his presence would come to visit you in your dreams at night. 
Just like how he took you in, you take this chance to look at him properly. From his bare chest, you find the faint scars that you have always remembered seeing on his skin, the hidden marks that you used to trace with your fingers, and the dent on his waist that you used to hold when he was making love to you. 
Through his strong shoulders that feel hard under your palms and his toned torso that flexes under your gaze, you find the most change that he has gained so far, with strong muscles that have grown during the years that had gone by. There are visible signs of ageing that are also beginning to show on his skin, his lower torso, and even on the strands hidden in his thick hair, but none of them could take away any part of his beauty that you can openly admire. 
In your eyes, he is still the perfect man that you have ever known. He is perfect in every single aspect that you can find in him. Not just physically, but everything else that lies within, most specifically the part of him which had drawn you into him the first time you met. 
Yet what you are currently drawn into has everything to do with the physical aspect of his, as your eyes fall on his hard cock that has been drawing your attention by looking hard and ready. 
Just for you.
Your heartbeat picks up once you get a clear view of how much he wants you. Under your gaze, his cock seems to come alive as you see it throbbing, twitching slightly as his want grows just as much as yours. 
“You said something about touching me,” Namjoon teasingly whispers, breaking the silence that has grown thick with tension as your hunger for him grows. His lips tip up at one corner, forming a small grin as you look up to him. A flush of warmth spreads through your cheeks, yet he helps calm your unsteady heart when he gently adds, “Show me that you meant it.”
His words encourage you to move, to show him that you meant every word you said to him through your actions alone. Your hands are trembling as you reach up, choosing to start from the face that has been haunting your sleep on those cold, lonely nights, and you gently touch his cheeks with the tips of your fingers. His gaze remains on your face as you move your hands down, grazing his jawline, his chin, down the length of his neck, feeling every sharp edges and smooth dents, grazing briefly at the soft stubble that is barely visible on his skin. 
His breath is caught as you brush against his chest. His taut muscles grow tense under your touch as you keep going lower. A shiver runs through his body when you reach his lower torso, feeling the ridges of his muscles and the marks on his skin that you used to find yourself getting drawn into. The shiver intensifies as you reach down to brush across the thin line of coarse hair beneath his navel, and then everything in him halts when you continue gliding your fingers lower, as if he has lost his breath and every last will that he has to move now that you are getting closer to his erection, the clear evidence of his desire that has been calling for your attention ever since it was revealed to you. 
“Don’t stop,” he says with a raspy voice when your touch lingers just an inch away from his hard shaft. His hands have found a gentle hold on your waist, where they remain as he keeps himself from guiding you so you can be the one to set up the pace. But as he speaks, he slowly moves his hands upward, finding their way back to your bare breasts. He moves his thumbs in lazy circles, starting from the underside of your breasts and continuing up to the peak. He nearly distracts you from your intention in his effort to ease your mind into it, until his gentle voice is heard once again, nearly pleading as he whispers breathlessly to you, “Please, don’t stop.”
You wait with bated breath until his thumbs reach your nipples. The lazy circles he makes continue, moving even slower now as he anticipates your touch. Tiny waves of pleasure rise with the gentle way he is touching your hardened nipples, as he grazes the pads of his thumbs across each one, bringing up shuddering delights through your body that sends warmth inside your core. 
That is when you finally move, starting with a gentle, almost tentative brush of the tips of your fingers across the length of his cock. His body jerks at your touch, yet he doesn’t stop moving his own fingers on your skin, keeping the light shudders alive. So you do exactly the same as you slowly reach down to move your fingers around the base of his cock, touching him and circling around its girth.
Namjoon draws a sharp inhale of breath as he shudders under your touch. His mouth parts when you drag your palm along the length of his hard shaft, following the veins that are pumping hot blood to the tip of his cock. While you are giving him pleasure through your soft caress, your eyes flutter to close as your past memory washes over you, bringing back all the old sensations that you once savoured from touching him like this.
“It’s been”—you sigh—“so long.” 
Too long. 
With gentle fingers, you carefully wrap your hand fully around the base of his cock, using a light grip that draws a deep moan out of his lips once your palm comes in contact with his hot skin. His head falls back when you start moving your palm, gliding back and forth from the base to the tip and then coming back up again, sometimes adding a light pressure between each stroke. The shudder that runs through his body comes out with his deep exhale of breath, one that shows you how much your touch is affecting him. 
It has been too long since the last time you touched him like this, yet it seems that your body still remembers everything. As if every inch of your hand and fingers still remember all the right touches that he likes, how to be able to draw all the right reactions that are now beginning to affect you as well. 
“Fuck, you’re right. It’s been too long since I’ve felt this good,” he groans breathlessly between his deep moans, drawing a soft, bitter laugh out of you.
“You’re not the one who has been spending the nights alone without anyone touching you the right way,” your words come with a sharpness that doesn’t seem like something that may come from you at all. But at the same time, it sounds familiar, and you know that it has come from a cavity that exists deep inside your heart. 
Because it sounds hurtful. And you can almost hear the sound of the fractured pieces of your soul emerging through each word you give him.
Those pretty eyes of his find you as they snap open in his shock, though he only looks at you with half-lidded eyes when you keep up the light strokes you are giving him through the length of his cock. “You have no idea,” Namjoon barely grits out, and he is gasping at the end of his words when you tighten your grip just a tad as you drag your palm to the tip, enough to draw a rough shudder through his body. He lifts one hand away from your breast, clasping the nape of your neck as he leans closer. 
“What don’t I know?” you find yourself speaking, breathless with each word coming out of your lips as he draws his face closer to you. Instead of answering your question, he captures your lips, silencing your mind—and perhaps his own—as he kisses you deeply, devouring you like a man in need of air. 
Namjoon suddenly breaks away from the kiss and bends lower. His mouth quickly finds the neglected nipple and gives it a light suck, while his fingers continue pinching and rubbing on the other. Seemingly lost in the rising pleasure, his hips begin to move, rocking and pumping into your palm. Sucking a deep breath, you relish the pleasure that he is giving you, not even minding it when he begins to pull the hair at the nape of your neck to tilt your head back, exposing your neck to him. 
Despite losing in himself, in his own need and pleasure, Namjoon manages to move his hand from your breast and reach down between your bodies. Between your parted legs, he finds your dripping pussy, and he immediately groans as he feels your heat and dampness on the tip of his fingers. The latter seems to increase under the touch of his fingers as you rock into his hand. 
“Fuck—you’re so wet,” he moans once he unlatches his lips from your nipple. His breath sounds rough, deep and heavy with lust, and you can see it clearly coming out through his gaze when he stretches himself to his full height. Keeping one hand still on the nape of your neck, he draws his hand back from your hot pussy and gently grips your wrist to peel your hand away from his throbbing cock. “I think”—he groans—“things will end too soon if we continue this way.” 
The corner of his lips curls to a grin when he hears the sound of your soft whine when he pulls your hand off of him. You watch with hazy eyes as he entwines his fingers with yours. The dampness that he gathered from you is still coating his fingers as he presses them against your hand, while your palm is still warm after touching him. He lifts your entwined hands to his lips, and he presses a soft kiss on your wrist. The act distracts you, taking your mind away from him as he steps closer, stepping between your parted legs while gently tugging your body towards him.
You draw a sharp inhale of breath once your bodies come in contact, pressing against each other, bare skin against bare skin. The sound you make seems to do something to him when he closes his eyes and shudders against you. Once he opens his eyes again, he lifts you up in his arms and takes you to your bed. He does it so gently, as if he is being extra cautious so there is no possible way you would break into pieces in his arms. As if you are a little fragile thing that might shatter if he is not careful. A feeling that you share as you hold on to him tightly, except that in your mind, he would simply disappear if you would only blink or lose contact with his skin. 
But the latter seems almost impossible to happen, when he doesn’t give you any sign of letting go. Not until he finally reaches your bed. Namjoon carefully lays you down and then comes down with you, crawling over you with an intense look appearing through his gaze which makes your heart race rapidly. 
Propping himself on his two strong hands which sink into the bed, Namjoon lowers himself to you. He captures your lips, giving you a kiss that is soft and gentle, yet deeply filled with his dark passion at the same time. He draws a moan from you as he slips his tongue in, brushing against yours for a brief contact before pulling away with a shuddering breath. With a sigh, he rests his forehead on yours. 
“Tell me you want this,” he whispers, triggering the sane and logical part of your brain to start fighting against your conscience once more, the one that is supposed to help you think more clearly yet has already fallen victim to the desire residing deep inside your heart.
You close your eyes, savouring the warmth that you feel from him while trying to listen to the voices in your head to help you decide what you truly want. As you open your eyes again, meeting his eyes with more resolve, you know that he can already find the answer before you can even make sense of your own thoughts. 
You should end this before it would be too late. You know that you should. But once again, you choose to listen to your heart. You push every thought about letting him go to the back of your mind when you reach up to him and wrap your arms around him to pull him down, to kiss his lips without any single restraint. 
“I want this, more than ever,” you murmur against his lips and slowly rock your hips against his, rubbing your hot slit against the length of his cock. “I want you. Now.” 
A sharp inhale of breath comes from him, as if your words snap something inside him. Enough to give him reasons to let go every inhibitions that he has left and help him find his own resolve. You can feel it when he presses his lips on yours, giving you a deep kiss that puts you into a haze. He reaches down, gripping your thigh to part your legs for him so he can position himself at your center. Your heartbeat picks up to a rapid speed when you feel the tip of his cock pressing at your entrance, and your body tenses as you anticipate what is coming next. 
But when he moves, he is kind and gentle, just the way you remember him doing the same back when you were still together. It helps eliminate everything else so that all you can feel is his presence that spreads all around you, filling up all the hidden crevices and the void inside your soul. There is no remorse daunting you when he slowly slides into you, once again uniting both your broken souls and bodies together after spending many years of being apart. 
Tears fall from your eyes as you arch in your pleasure and he dips in, kissing those tears away the same way he did back then, all while he continues rocking, moving steadily in and out of you as he makes sweet love to you. He makes you feel and relive all the sweet and sinful love that quickly becomes so intoxicating that you instantly know that it would never be enough. Not now once your body is reminded how addicted to his love you were in the past, and how deprived of his pleasure you have been through the years you were apart.
So you relish the love and pleasure that he is giving you while you are able to. With your arms wrapped around him, you pull him down. All the way down until your mouths meet each other in a deep, passionate kiss, drowning your moans as he pumps into you in a slow and steady rocking. 
“More,” you beg him with your lips grazing over his. “Make love to me, Namjoon. Please. Do it harder, make me feel you deep inside me.” 
Namjoon draws a sharp inhale of breath after hearing your words, and he starts rocking faster, pushing deeper, until he is buried so deep that he almost reaches the hilt of your warmth. All at once, every part of your body and his come apart to a shuddering pleasure, and the sounds that you both are making as you embrace it together fills the entire room. 
“Oh, fuck”—he moans deeply—“you feel…” 
His words fade into another moan as he pushes into you even deeper until he can go no further, and you cannot blame him for not being able to finish his words. Because there is nothing that can explain this feeling—the feeling of fullness, the perfect fit you feel with him buried deeply inside you, and the waves of pleasure that come to engulf you the moment you are joined as one. 
Instead of continuing to move, he comes to a halt and simply remains still. As if he wants to relish the warmth that comes surging through his body and the way your walls flutter around him, while you revel in the way your pulses seem to fall in the same rhythm as his, as if you have become one. 
Namjoon has his eyes closed when he sighs. And when he opens his eyes again, your heart makes a gratifying flip in your chest from seeing the truth that resides in his gaze. The corners of his lips lift to a smile, making him look both irresistible and arousing when the glow in his eyes are filled with lust and a glimmer of pure love.
“All the memory I’ve ever had about being with you like this can never compare to this moment,” he says with a voice so gentle that you almost miss it under the loud sounds of your racing heartbeat. The moment his words sink into your muddled brain, what he is trying to tell you draws a gasp from you. 
“You still remember,” you whisper, and as much as you hate it, the feeling of hope—that little stubborn thing—blooms. “Do you—” you try to question him, even when you are worried to hear his answer. “Do you think about this? About us?” 
His smile softens, while there is a cloud forming in his gaze when he looks at you. “Like I said,” he whispers with a deep sigh. “You have no idea. No idea at all.”
Before you get any chance to question what he means, Namjoon begins to move. As if he is taken over by the memory of the past and the deep lust that he has for you, he starts thrusting in and out of you, going slow at first, but deep enough to rock your entire body beneath him with each thrust. The sound of your moans grow gradually louder with each pump of his cock into your depth, as he allows his emotions to flow out of him, causing his strokes to grow more intense as he continues.
The pleasure that you are feeling is incomparable to anything else that you have ever felt before, from anything that you have shared with anyone other than him. It feels too good to be true, so good that you insist to keep your eyes open so you can see him. To make sure that this is real, and not just another one of your lucid dreams that have been taking you back to him. 
The feeling of his girth brushing against your walls is real, so is the spasms of pleasure that you feel rising from the depth of your core. Your hips rise to meet each of his thrust, while your chest arches as you are embracing the pleasure that comes with it. His grips on your hip and thigh grow tighter as he leans down, his lips brushing against your neck before he bites at your skin, causing you to cry out his name when the pain increases the pleasure. 
“Namjoon—!”
“Cum for me. Show me that I was right, that we are perfect together,” he whispers to you. His voice fades in and out through your fogged brain, yet you can still hear his words, and you can feel your body responding immediately to his subtle command.
As if you are spellbound under his words, the waves of your climax wash over you and you embrace it with a sharp cry. It comes to you hard, harder than you have ever experienced it before. Not even when you were together in the past. Your body trembles violently beneath him while your intense orgasm pushes him over the edge, and soon you feel him shuddering above you. His cock slides back into you with one final thrust, pushing against your pulsing walls as he releases every drop of his essence inside you, filling you up with his warmth. He comes with his head tilts back, his eyes fluttering close, and a rough, breathless shout slipping out of his lips as he falls into his release.
For a moment, your entire world comes to a stock-still. Your mind remains caught in the blissful haze of your climax, while that same haze flows through your body like a soft hum. Opening your eyes takes quite an effort, and you only manage once his whispering voice pierces through your haze, softly calling you back to him as he slowly recovers from his own high. 
When you finally manage to return to the present, half expecting to open your eyes only to realise that all of this has been nothing but a dream and you would wake to find yourself alone in your cold bed, you are immediately met with his beautiful eyes and his dimpled smile. Within moments, your haze fades into null and every part of your sense clears out, allowing you to take in this moment, to see him as he hovers above you with a deep passionate gaze looking down on you. 
Both of you are breathing heavily, still needing time to recover completely. The sound fills the entire room that has somehow grown excruciatingly silent. The air around you feels thick, and you can hear nothing else other than your racing heartbeat which seems to fall in the same speed as his. Still attached to each other, he lowers himself, bringing his hot body that is veiled with a thin sheet of sweat, pressing down his heat onto yours as he gently embraces you, and you welcome him with your arms wrapped around his body.
It takes a few more minutes before your bodies finally settle into a state of calmness, and then a few more until you are both cleaned of all the mess that had been created, until you feel less icky about yourself just enough to let him take you back in his arms. 
“I thought you said you had to go home,” you whisper into the silence that surrounds you as he holds you from behind. His bare chest is pressing against your back, bare skin against bare skin, with your hearts beating together in a steady rhythm.  
“I am home,” he says, his voice sounds so soft, yet you can feel it piercing through your chest. Just when you open your mouth, ready to question his change of heart, he gently turns you over so you are now lying on your sides, facing each other. His lips are lifted to a slow smile, only moments before he leans closer to kiss your lips and steal your words away. “I’m right where I want to be. This is where I belong.” 
Tears are threatening to fall down your cheeks as a wave of emotions come surging through your chest. But you close your eyes and lean into his embrace, basking in the warmth that he is offering you to continue reminding yourself that this is not a dream. 
Still, reality is quick to sink in once silence falls. No matter how hard you want to deny it, the safety of this comfortable bubble that you have created with him can only be temporary. Outside, the world will continue to revolve and the reality of your circumstances that is slowly forcing its way in is starting to press down on you. Sooner or later, you will have to return to face the real world and wake up from this dream. 
“People will start looking for you,” you whisper to him despite not wanting to. 
Because that was how it happened. How your secrets unraveled and your sins came to light. When his disappearances were questioned, and people kept finding the shadow of your presence everywhere around him when he returned—the sweet and spicy perfume that was not his yet somehow lingered on his clothes, the trinkets that would somehow find their way into his things, the songs that he never listened to before but he enjoyed because you would play them to welcome your bright mornings. Once your sins were uncovered, you were left with no other choice but to end everything, sending him back to his original path while you continued to find yours. 
“Let them,” he says, though you can already sense that he is wavering. Doubt creeps into your thoughts when you catch the dark look in his eyes. A dark look of uncertainty that seems so daunting. It pinches at a deep part of your heart when you can already feel him pulling away, not because he is intentionally doing it, but because the world is trying to pull him back into the path that he briefly stepped out of in order to spend this short moment with you. 
You close your eyes, silently preparing yourself and your delicate heart to face reality. It would be one of the hardest things that you would have to do in life, especially after experiencing the bliss of being brought back to life and to indulge in his love which is completely forbidden for you to take. But it would be the right thing for you to do. 
You need to let him go.
It takes almost an hour later before you finally find the will to peel yourself off of him and convince him to return home. Back to the life that he has built without you. The life that he has with another who is more deserving of his love. 
He almost seems to be dragging his feet as he makes his way to the door of your apartment, while it almost seems to you that your mind and body are separated as you join him. No matter what you keep telling yourself, this night no longer feels real to you, even if you can still feel the ghost of his touches on your skin that is still completely bare under the robe that you are wearing. You can also breathe in the scent of his cologne that is clinging on your body. You lift your head to watch him, and your heartbeat dips when you realise that you are sending him home with traces of your sinful tryst tonight all over him. 
The shirt that he wore tonight seems a bit crumpled on the sides, right where you gave it a good grip when you were helping him strip out of it. There are some buttons that are still unlatched on the front, while the bottom hem of his shirt is left untucked from his pants on the back. The subtle note of your perfume seems to waft as he walks, clinging somewhere either on his shirt or on his body together with the musky scent that belongs to him. Your gaze follows his hand as he moves to carry his jacket over his broad shoulder, the collars hooked on his long fingers—the same fingers that he used to touch the most delicate part of your body—with an ease that fits together with the pure confidence that he often wears on his skin. You continue looking up his full height, and notice the unruly hair on the top of his head which he has opted not to touch and fix on his way out for his own selfish reasons.
“Because there are trails and evidence of your touch here and I don’t want to erase it. Not this soon.” 
You take an inhale of breath and swallow hard at the words that he gave you when you questioned it. There is a lot to unpack from his words, and you only have a little time left with him to waste on trying to understand what he meant by it. 
Too soon, you are standing at the door—with you remaining inside the threshold, hiding one shaking hand in the side pocket of your robe and the other by holding tightly on the door knob, and he is standing on the other side of the doorframe, already a step further away to get out of your life and returning to his own. You hold your gaze on him for a moment too long, giving in to your desire and selfish wish to commit this moment deep in your memory, to be able to remember his entire being so you can cherish the memory of this night during your lonely nights alone.
“I guess this is it?” he asks you when you fall silent, unable to find your own voice to speak. 
You open your mouth to respond, ready to say goodbye. But the words hang on the tip of your tongue when a lump grows in your throat as you try to say those words out loud. You have expected that it would be painful to say it, to see him leave after bidding goodbyes. Yet you still cannot bare the pain. 
Because you clearly still remember how it was like back then to feel it.
Namjoon must have caught on to this when you clam up and try to avoid his gaze, because the look in his eyes softens and he carefully takes a step closer to return to you.
As you try to look away, he cups your face with his big palms so you would look up to him. “I’ll come back for you. I promise,” he says. His voice sounds so deep that you can feel all the emotions that he is putting into his words. 
His promise feels so heavy on you, yet so pleasant, that you drop your chin and look down to hide your bitter smile. “I remember when you made that same promise once,” you whisper softly to him, though still loud enough for him to hear.  
You look up again just to see him looking back at you with his kind eyes and his gentle smile, everything about him that shows how pure his soul truly is. Tonight, that smile of his appears to you sweeter than ever, especially when he reminds you of the past once more when he says, “Then you should remember that I kept it.” 
You do remember. Because that had been the start of everything. When he showed up at your place to keep the promise that he had given to you and he made you a sinner. 
Goodbye is too painful of a word for you to speak, so you choose to say something else. Something that is less painful, and holds a bit more hope than it should.
“Goodnight,” you whisper with a broken smile. “And thank you.” 
You choose to not finish the sentence, keeping the words that you want so badly to say to him for yourself as you close the door, drawing the line between the two of you as you send him back to where he truly belongs. 
Thank you for coming back into my life. Even if you cannot stay.  
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Every time I had to let you go and watch as you return to your life, my heart would always feel heavy.  I would listen to my guts as they told me that it was going to be the last time that I was able to see you, and I would prepare myself for the hurt that might follow. But every time you left, you kept promising that you would return. And every single time, you kept that promise. Always coming back to me when I was prepared to live a life without you in it. Sometimes I wonder…what would our lives be if you had never kept those promises you gave me.  Sometimes a part of me even wished that you hadn’t kept them.  Because things would have been so much easier if you had just forgotten about those secret pledges you had given me. Things might have been much easier for me if you had lied and purposely hurt me from the start. Maybe I would have been able to leave sooner. Maybe then…I wouldn’t have been falling in love with you more and more, or let myself be swooned by all the expectation and hope that you helped plant inside this silly little heart of mine.
Namjoon kept his words. 
Within a few days, he returns. The evening had just fallen when he comes knocking at your door, surprising you with a jolt rising inside your chest when you see him standing there, with an easy smile on his face as if he has no care in the world. As if he is not supposed to be somewhere else other than here. 
“You…came,” you whisper in your shock, drawing his smile to grow wider. 
“Didn’t I promise you that I would?” Namjoon asks you with a tease in his words. But the moment he takes in the look you are giving him, seeing no smile or joy but finding a hint of your apprehensiveness in their place instead, his smile slowly fades. It shouldn’t surprise you that he is still capable of reading your emotions. A look of genuine concern and sadness fills his gaze when he, no doubt, can see the look of relief and astonishment in your eyes for seeing him. As if you had expected that he would never come back.
“You still don’t believe me,” he murmurs gently with a mixture of surprise and sorrow flashing across his gorgeous face. 
“I just—” you try to answer with a soft voice. A resigning sigh escapes you when you explain your feelings to him with the only way you could, “It’s hard.” 
Not too surprisingly, he only responds to you with a nod. “I understand,” he says, as if he truly knows exactly how you feel. That he truly understands how hard it would be for you to allow yourself to hope. To allow yourself be vulnerable when there is a risk of you getting hurt again like before.  
The grip that you have on the door handle tightens. It would make sense if you close the door right now instead of welcoming him back in. This thought had crossed your mind for the past few nights, as you tried to picture every possible scenario you could think of about how you would react should he ever keep his words and return to see you, or if he never shows up again at all. You had thought of all the choices that you would have to make—whether you are to let him back in or to say goodbye, to forget about your chance encounter and continue living as if the magical night when you were reunited never happened. And each time, you promised yourself that you would do the right thing this time around. To not repeat the same mistake you did then when you were younger and you chose to give in to what your heart desired. 
But here he is now, standing right in front of your door to return to you—as promised. It only takes you looking deep into his eyes, to see the familiar gentleness in his gaze that is enough to have your resolve waning. 
Pressing your tongue on the inside of your cheek, you mull over your choices. Everything within you keeps telling you not to cross the line. Not again. And you have the chance to make things right this time.
“Have you had dinner yet?” you find yourself asking. That is not what you were about to ask him. But you regret nothing when a smile grows on his face. And you are definitely not thinking about the other life that he is stepping out of as you step aside, allowing him to step back into yours. 
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Even when you are apart, your lives would always intertwine. 
And the moment you are together, the connection that you have between you doesn’t spark. It detonates like fireworks blasting in the dark night sky above.
Dinner was a swift affair. You were in the middle of cooking your meal when Namjoon came knocking at your door. As if you already had an inkling that someone else would be joining you for dinner, you had been cooking for two, enough for you to share the meal with him as you sat down together at the kitchen counter. 
Casual moments like what you just had tonight—one that is as simple as having homemade dinner at home with light conversations and a glass of wine on the side—had become a huge part of your memories that you cherished, because they never lasted as long as you wanted them to. Things had always been so quick to escalate when you were spending time with him, and anything that started simple and innocent would always end up becoming a fiery affair. 
And that is exactly what is happening between you tonight. 
In the past, you simply believed that it all happened only because you both realised, deep down, that your affair had an expiration date, and you simply wanted to make the most of it by sharing your passion and love in the nights that you shared together. You even made yourself believe that it was nothing more but a part of your dynamics that had once helped make things work between the both of you. That it was the reason why your relationship lasted the way it did even when you had to constantly remain in the shadows, hidden from the world. 
Tonight, as you once again fall into the same pattern as before, as you find yourself giving in to that dark temptation after spending merely a short amount of time alone with Namjoon, you realise that there had been more to it. 
There is tension that has always been there when you are together. Always so intense, always so palpable that it would be impossible for it to be ignored. Once it is there, it wouldn’t take long before the two of you are immersed in each other’s arms, as you give in to your carnal desire and allow yourself to drown in your sin. And there is also the strong connection that you feel with him which intensifies everything you feel when you are with him. A connection that has never been diminished by the passing time. All it would take is for one of you to snap, and every bit of that comforting casualness fades and the wave of wanton desire would immediately take root. Just like what just happened merely minutes ago. 
Once the relaxing moment you shared at dinner, which allowed you to pretend that you were just like any other—normal—couple, you now find yourself entangled in another passionate, extremely heated exchange. All because Namjoon made the casual remarks about what happened the last time he was here—bringing up all the things you did with him right atop the kitchen counter—and shared his wish about wanting to lie you down on the cold surface this time as he savours his dessert. 
The comment he made snapped you out of your resolve, sending you jumping out of your chair to join him in his. Your legs are spread on either side of him as you rest on his lap. You can feel the semi-hard cock that still manages to poke against you from under his pants when you press your body against him. His strong and broad chest feels like a wall of muscles under your fingertips as you press into them through the thin shirt that he is wearing. 
“I really think I’m liking this position right here,” Namjoon says with a groan. There is something that lingers in his gaze as he looks up at you. It makes you feel completely exposed, as if he can see through the fabric of your clothes—the tank-top and shorts that you had put on for a leisure evening before he came—and see nothing but bare skin. At the same time, you also feel treasured, when his perusing gaze feels like gentle fingers tracing every inch of your skin instead of making you feel as if he is simply stripping you down with his eyes. 
It makes you feel a myriad of emotions through your chest—some that makes you feel hot with new desire and the need to touch him further, and some that may bring tears in your eyes from how deeply he makes you feel.  
There is too much to unpack with just a single glance, so you decide to delve into the one emotion that you know so well. The need that seems to only grow more intense as he runs his gaze down your body and his strong palms come down to cup your covered ass. You start grinding your hips down on him, feeling his erection that you can feel growing under the restraint of his pants. The absolute ache in your core intensifies, and you rock harder above him, enough for him to feel your softness. His head falls back as he groans, while his palms are pressing on you and his fingers are digging into your soft bottom cheeks as he guides your rocking. 
“This is”—you moan into his neck when the pleasure you are feeling is accompanied by a sharp pain as your knees come in contact with the wooden backrest on his chair—”awfully uncomfortable.” 
The soft chuckle that he releases sounds strained, as if he is already on the edge and he is trying to hold it back. “Should we take this to your comfortable bed?” 
Despite agreeing to his valid suggestion, you despise the thought of having to stop and peel yourself away from him. Not when all the rocking and grinding are starting to ease the ache that you feel in your core, replacing it with a steady pulse of pleasure. “Moving only means that I have to stop touching you,” you say with a whine. You barely recognise your own voice as a moan slips out of you the moment you feel his covered bulge rubbing your clit. 
“Not necessarily,” he once again chuckles, and then he presses his lips on yours as he jerks you closer to his chest. He briefly captures your gasp with his kiss and pulls back once you no longer feel tense to whisper, “Wrap your legs and arms around me.” 
Namjoon’s voice sounds gentle, yet it also sounds commanding, that you immediately move to follow his orders. You wrap your arms around his neck as he scoots forward on his seat and your ankles join at his back to cling onto him. The look of appreciation that he gives you as a reward is more than enough to make you feel good about yourself. 
“Good girl. Hold on to me tightly and try not to let go until I tell you so,” he praises you with pride lingering in his words, and that feeling escalates into something more. Something new and unbelievably pleasant that you feel some warmth growing in separate places—from your chest and down to the place that is now wet and soiled after rubbing on him so wantonly like an animal in heat. 
His grip on your hips and bottom cheeks tightens, and he takes you with him as he rises from his seat. He does it with so much ease that it makes you feel like you are floating in the air. You don’t even feel any fear of falling, knowing that you can fully trust him to keep you from falling on your butt. 
As Namjoon gently carries you to your bed, you start to notice more tidbits about him that you missed from the last time you spent the night together. You had noticed then how his body has changed. His body that used to appear almost lanky in his full height has now been filled with more muscles, making his shoulders and chest seem wider, broader, stronger, and his arms that appear more toned as they flex under your weight while he is carrying you away to your bed. 
As he gently drops you on top of your messy sheets—you did lie down on them earlier right after coming back from work—you run your fingers down his shoulders to his biceps, taking hold for a brief moment before letting him go as you fall on your back. He steps back, taking you in with his perusing gaze the same way he had done it before. 
The sound of his deep sigh pierces through the tense air. It fills both the quiet room and the cavity in your chest. It keeps you under an invincible restraint as he continues to hold his gaze on you while he begins stripping out of his clothes. The sight of him peeling his shirt and pants down feels cathartic. Like a piece of your dream is manifesting right before your eyes. What had filled your lonely nights had been nothing but a mirage, while he is truly here at this moment, with his true presence that you can feel even without touching him. 
It isn’t until he is kicking down his boxer, relieving his semi-erection from its last restraint when you finally feel the urge to move. Your hands itch, feeling the need to touch him, to stroke him until his cock grows to its fullest size and then take him in your mouth. A grin rises on the corner of his lips when you lick your lips, unable to contain yourself, and he seems to get a gist of where your mind is wandering off to. But just when you expect to hear him bring it up and tease you, the only thing that comes out of his sexy mouth is, “You are so goddamn beautiful.” 
Your eyes grow wide. That is certainly not what you expected to hear. Yet his words are still enough to bring the flush on your cheeks right back, and that warmth you felt earlier comes back in multitude of places within you.
Including the void deep within your pussy. 
“Let me see you, baby. Strip down for me.” 
Your eyebrows are lifted. Once again, you are caught off guard when he does what is least expected as he remains standing there, gloriously naked with his cock almost fully erected and the delectable ridges of his toned torso is all open for you to gawk at. 
Pushing yourself up, you slowly come up to your knees. Locking your gaze on his, you continue to move, reaching down to the hem of your tank-top and pulling it up, revealing to him the lack of underthings covering your skin when your breasts are freed. You can only hear the sound of his sharp inhale of breath when you are pulling the tank-top over your head, obscuring your view. But once the fabric is gone, you are met with the sight of his dark gaze. His hunger licks on your skin. His cock twitches, slowly growing hard just by seeing you half naked. 
Without a word, you hook your fingers around the waistband of your shorts and start sliding it down your thighs. It falls on your knees, and you fall back so you can kick it all the way down to your ankles. 
That is when he finally moves again. He reaches out to pull those shorts off of you and flings it away. His hands quickly return to you, brushing your skin gently starting from your ankles, tracing up to your calves with an excruciatingly slow pace which makes you feel tingles rising all over your body and not just the places that he is touching. By the time he reaches your thighs, your legs are quivering, almost as intensely as the thrums of your heartbeat. 
He continues going up, sliding his fingers around the apex of your thighs and reaching to the center. He grazes his fingertips over your panties and sucks a deep breath. His voice comes out to a near growl when he murmurs, “You’re so wet already. I can feel it from here.” 
He draws a moan from your lips when he presses down at your slit, coaxing more dampness to soil your cotton panties. Then a cry slips out of you when he touches your covered clit, rubbing on it until your hips are raised, meeting up his touch with the need to have more. 
The pleasure rises, and he suddenly stops before you can get there. He pulls away from you, and before you can even start protesting the loss of his touch, he moves his hands up, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your panties and starts easing them down your legs. 
“Beautiful,” he whispers once you are left with nothing else on. Nothing but your bare skin and the warm flush of lust running through your veins. “Absolutely stunning,” he continues with a shaky voice, as if his words are weighed down with both his pure desire and the deep emotion that is taking over him. 
Lost in his gaze, you resist every urge that you are feeling to shield yourself away. You hide nothing as you bare yourself to him—your body, your heart, your soul—the way you never had before. Despite this, even when you are diving into this willingly, with your heart and mind completely open, it doesn’t stop you from trembling as you lie beneath him the moment he climbs up the bed and slowly crawls his way over you. His gaze finds yours, and it feels like something simply snaps into place. As if everything is suddenly right again, and you are finally right where you belong. 
“This is where I belong.”
His words from the other day return to you as you briefly close your eyes. Despite the certainty that you could hear through his comment, your mind has been filled with your own denial, still refusing the chance to hope. One look is all it takes for you to feel the walls and the stubborn denial crumbling, when you find nothing more but sincerity and something else that is deeper than his dark passion coming out of his beautiful eyes. 
With your hands back on his shoulders, you pull him down to you. His hard cock twitches between you once it comes in contact with your hot pussy, but you focus on drawing his mouth on yours. And your mouths clash into a deep, hungry kiss, leaving you breathless while your entire body seems to burn in the heat of the moment.
His strong hands come back down, opening your legs for him with his tight grip on each thigh. Namjoon slowly rocks over you once he is settled nicely against you, brushing his cock against your hot slit, over and over again, with the dampness from your pussy making it easier for him to move. His cock feels slick as he grinds against you, and you know that he can feel the slickness that has reached down to the inner side of your thighs. 
Each stroke of his length against your slit makes your body tremble. Each time the head of his cock brushes against your clit, a strangled cry slips out of your lips. Once he falls into a steady pace, your hips begin to rock together with his. Your inner walls contract, needing to be filled, and you find no shame in expressing what you need as you break away from the kiss and run your hands down to cup his strong and ample buttocks, pressing him into you to show him what you want before you say it out loud. 
“I need you—” your voice breaks out into a soft gasp when he pushes himself up and cups your breast, only keeping one hand to prop himself up. 
“Yes, tell me what you need.” 
“You,” you gasp. “I need you. Inside me. Now.” 
With a grin on his face, Namjoon continues rocking and begins playing with your nipple. A gentle brush of his fingers brings your chest to rise. A pinch around the nub draws the sound of your sharp cry, and it almost feels like you are gushing right beneath your legs to the sensations he is bringing to your body.
“Say the magic word,” he teases with a groan. “Say ‘please’.” 
You give him a dirty look at his silly command, only to quickly yield when he begins to pull away, causing the flutters in your pussy to intensify. An immediate reaction that your body is giving you to remind you of what it needs. That you will not be able to rest until your needs are sated. 
“Please, Namjoon,” you finally start begging him, giving in to what is most important to you right now. Because you also know that your body isn’t the only thing that needs him. “Please, fuck me. Take me. Make love to me. I need you so—” 
The moment you begin begging him, giving him what he had asked of you, Namjoon has already started moving. His hips are lifted. His hand is between your bodies, reaching down to find your clit. It is his touch that steals the words right out of your mouth when he presses his thumb and forefinger on your rosebud, pinching it lightly before slowly rubbing it to ease the pain. 
As he watches you responding to his touch—with your head falling back onto the pillows, your hips arching to embrace both pain and pleasure, and your moan growing louder—he pulls his hand away from you and wraps his palm around his shaft. Keeping his eyes on your face, he gives himself a few strokes before guiding the hard tip of his cock at your wet entrance. 
The wet tip dips in, and Namjoon comes to halt, remaining still for a moment until the intense pulses rushing through both of your bodies start to wane. “Since you asked me so nicely,” he says with a cocky grin on his face, “I am more than pleased to give you exactly what you wanted.” 
Your mouth falls open, yet you cannot remember if you were planning to answer him or if you are simply giving him a silent cry as he pushes his way in. Your pussy walls break to a spasm as he glides deeper, moving in one inch and pulling back, then returning to get another inch deeper. He repeats the motion a few more times until you are adjusted to his size, until your pussy is more welcoming, allowing him to slide in to the hilt. 
Your hips rise once again to meet him as he gives you the final thrust that puts him all the way in until there is nowhere left for him to go. This time, he doesn’t wait. He doesn’t linger, even when you can hear the sounds that he is making as the rush of pleasure goes through his body. Even his head has fallen back. His eyes are fluttering close for a brief moment, yet they quickly open to find yours again when he begins rocking his hips. 
A shuddering gasp is drawn from you from the delicious way his cock is brushing against your pulsing walls. Sliding in and out, he makes you feel all the burning sensation again, over and over, and you can feel him slowly picking up his pace once pleasure takes over.
Every jerk of his hips becomes sturdier as he continues moving. Each thrust feels maddening, the way it wakes all the rush of pleasure, the delectable bliss that rises like subtle waves. Each gentle touch from his wandering hands bring everything together to a notch, even when he reaches up, pressing his firm hands on your breasts that have been rocking and shaking as your bodies rock together in the same intense rhythm. 
And you take in everything. Always with your eyes open, refusing to deny yourself the glorious sight of him embracing his pleasure. Always with your hands touching his arms, his shoulders, sinking into his back. When the wave of your climax hits, there is nothing that can stop it from coming. It engulfs you like a massive ripple taking you down to the depth of the ocean and plummeting you to the ground at the same time. 
Your entire body quivers, shaking in its release. The sound of your moans and cries bounce against the walls, and they are quickly joined by the sharp cry that he releases as he falls into his own release, pushed over to the edge by your blinding orgasm. 
The feeling that washes over you in your climax is deeper than content. It fills you with warmth, not only deep below as he fills you with the essence of his release, but also deep in your chest, where you are filled with love and compassion that are deeper than the wanton desire that you share. 
Because in your climax, the desire that has been running through your body is not the only thing that it fulfils. In your release, your souls are intertwined together, joining the two of you—two hearts, two bodies, two souls—into one. 
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Have you ever noticed how quickly time would pass whenever we were together?  Maybe that had been the reason why it never felt enough, when it seemed like we had just gone through a blip, and all of a sudden, our time was up. Suddenly, I was forced to see you go. For you to go back to the one you had promised your heart to first.  I have gone back to those moments I shared with you, over and over again, holding onto them tightly because memories are all that I have been allowed to keep from you. There had been many, many memories that we created together, yet they were still not enough. Am I too greedy? For wishing that we could’ve gotten more?  Or am I too selfish? Too dumb? For believing that I deserve to have more of you? To be able to keep you as a whole instead of just fleeting memories that would one day be replaced with new ones?  Was that the real reason why it was so hard for me to move on? When nobody that I ever met after you could never hold the candle when compared to you.  They could never compare. Because all I ever wanted was you. 
Unlike the last time you had to see him walk out the door and was made to wait for a few days until he finally returned to you, Namjoon hasn’t made you wait again for the past two weeks since his return. 
Every night, he has been coming back to you. You should have been questioning it. To wonder why he has been making it so easy to choose where he would sleep at night when you have been a complete nervous-wreck each time, haunted by the thought that things would suddenly start crumbling down without you ever having enough strength to stop it from happening. Haunted by the pain that you would have to endure once he slips away from your life once again. 
But after what happened the last time you talked about it, when you reminded him that he still had a different home to come back to, fear and uncertainty continue to torment you. 
What if the moment you question him about it, he suddenly has a change of heart? Then he would change his mind, finally realising that he was never supposed to be here with you from the beginning and to start thinking that everything has been nothing but a huge mistake.
What if the next time you would have to watch him walk out that door, it would be the time when you finally witness him walking out of your life? That he is never going to return, leaving only the shadow of his presence in your home? 
That is why you have chosen to keep all of those questions to yourself. To bury all the doubt and allow everything to fall into its course. You admit that you are being selfish about this, but you still want to enjoy the time that you have together where you get to hold him in your sleep and wake up to his smile the next morning. 
And just like that, time continues to pass. Each night has always been followed by a gloomy morning after where you would have to part ways with him as both of you must face real life responsibilities. Every day, you would be wondering if that morning was going to be the last time you would ever see him again. But each night, he would always come knocking at your door, ridding every bit of doubt that you ever have as he returns to you, always with a smile that makes it seem like it is a normal thing for him to be here with you. 
And Namjoon continues to do so each and every day, keeping his promises to come back into your arms until the days blend into weeks. 
Two weeks. When the realisation dawns on you of how much time has quickly passed, you wonder how it is possible for you to feel as if the days simply blurred together, making you believe that all you had done so far is to blink, and time simply went away. But you know that it is not true. It shouldn’t be making you feel vulnerable, continuously haunted by the fear that your story with him will be cut short—just like how it did back then—just when you believe that everything would be different this time. 
Each night, you always close your eyes with a feeling of acceptance. Always with your heart prepared and your eyes half-opened just so you wouldn’t fall back on your butt once the rug is pulled right under your feet and things would have to return to the way they were. When it would be time for both of you to return to your own paths. 
You take what you can for now, to cherish all the fleeting moments that you have with him, because you know that time has never truly been on your side.
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You reach out to search for him in the dark of the night. 
Your chest feels hollow when you suddenly anticipate finding an empty bed, with only his warmth and the scent of his cologne left behind after he slipped away without saying goodbye—just like what you had once experienced in the past. But your breath is caught when instead of finding cold, messy sheets when you stretch out your hand, you find his warm skin under your fingertips. The steady thrums of his heartbeat can be felt under your touch, letting you know that he is still there. 
That his presence is real.
“Why are you not sleeping?” Namjoon’s deep and hoarse voice breaks through the silence. His voice is still heavy with sleep, and you can still sense his exhaustion when he shifts under your touch. Guilt immediately overcomes you when you realise that he was probably awakened by your movements, as Namjoon has always been quite a light sleeper. And it is making you feel more guilty when you remember that he needs to have good rest tonight more than ever, knowing that today has been quite rough on him. 
You could easily tell that he was having a hard time the moment he walked into your home tonight. With his shoulders slumped forward, his gaze that looked dull even when he tried to force a smile when he first saw you, it was unmistakable how drained he seemed to be both mentally and physically. And that was before he started stumbling in his steps as he entered your home that you had to catch him before he could fall on the floor of your dining room. 
You had wondered what might have happened during the day while he was gone, when his lively self that you saw in the morning had returned to you looking despondent and defeated. Despite your curiosity, you forced yourself to bite your tongue and kept your questions to yourself when he said nothing about it. All you could do was to help him relax and get his mind off of it, while hoping that he would eventually share his troubles with you once he was ready.   
It took quite an effort, yet you finally excelled in helping to ease his mind by going down on your knees and taking him deep in your mouth. Each lick of your tongue around the head of his cock and each brush of your lips across his length washed away every distress that he had, taking them away bit by bit until he was moaning in his pleasure. But it wasn’t until he came to a climax—with his hands clutching your hair tightly as he kept your head in place so he could thrust his cock so deep that he was hitting deep into your throat, and his cum landing on your tongue, filling your mouth, then slipping down your throat—before the tension in his body finally faded away completely. 
Then you both went straight to bed, calling it a night after the long day that you both had. Finding cure through the warmth that you shared while being in each other’s arms, you had fallen asleep with the hope that both of you would be able to forget about all the troubles that you met through the day and be ready for the new day tomorrow. 
But it is when the silence gets so deep when dark thoughts return to you. They start getting into your head, pulling you out of your relaxing slumber for you to wake up far too soon with an unsettling feeling lingering in your chest. It feels to you now like an invisible weight pressing down on you, making it hard for you to even breathe. 
Thoughts about him disappearing in the night and leaving you with a broken heart have been haunting you. They come to visit you in the night, tormenting you even when you have fallen asleep with his warm embrace engulfing you. Tonight, that tormenting feeling seems to rise within you even stronger, bringing back the doubt that clings in your soul like a forlorn hope each time you are reminded of the anguished look that he wore when he first came home to you.
But as you manage to find the glint in his eyes through the dark, you know that you wouldn’t be able to tell him all of this. Not in the way that would only burden him with your insecurities while he is already dealing with a lot of things on his own. So you simply reach up and place a palm on his cheek, feeling his warm skin under your cold hand as you turn his face to look at you. 
“Have I told you that I’ve been having dreams?” 
The question that slips out of you—completely unbidden—has him raising his eyebrows. “No, I don’t remember that you have. What kind of dreams?” Namjoon curiously asks you, looking genuine as always to know more about what is going through your head.
Your lips lift to a small smile as you think deeply about it. “It’s odd, really. Before we met again, I would always have wonderful dreams. They mostly involved you and I’d wake up the next morning regretting that they hadn’t been real,” you share with him with a soft voice. Looking back to it now, you can barely remember what actually happened in those dreams after seeing him in them. As now that he is truly here, those dreams have been quickly replaced by memories. New memories that you are building together with him. Which only brings you to wonder, “but now that you’re here, and I’d get nightmares—” 
You stop for a brief moment. Your eyebrows are lowered as you recall the short dreams that you have been having lately. The dreams that seem ominous, and they haunt you even during the day when the fear of losing him suddenly manifests out of thin air. “Like how I’d dream about watching you go or waking up at night and realising that I’m all alone in my bed, just like I had been before you came back into my life.”
With a soft sigh, Namjoon touches your chin with his gentle fingers and guides you to look at him. “I’m here. You can feel me being here, don’t you?” he asks you as he brings one of your hands to his chest, pressing it against his heartbeat.
Closing your eyes, you press against the steady rhythm of his heartbeat with your palms so you can savour it. It brings a smile to your face when you feel it quickening under your touch. “Yes, you’re here. You’re real,” you whisper, mostly to yourself. Then he brings your hand to his lips to kiss, silently asking you to open your eyes again.
“Maybe—” he whispers to you while clasping your hand, “I can show you just how real I am.” 
His words become the final warning as Namjoon captures your lips, kissing you slowly, tenderly, allowing you to feel him. Your body relaxes under his. Your head falls against the pillows. Warmth pours through your body as you move your hand to the back of his neck to get him to kiss you deeper. Then he shifts on the bed, sliding closer to your body under the blanket, and you get to feel quite a bit more of him.
You pull away from the kiss with a gasp, and he yanks the blanket off of his body, baring his bare skin for your eyes to see. Even in the darkness, you can still see the hard lines of his cock. Even when it is hardly grown to its full width, its solid girth stands at attention under your gaze. After all the years you spent touching him, learning all the ridges and veins on his body with the touch of your fingers, and then going back to those memories again by relearning everything about his body during the recent time that you have been spending with him, you can almost see it clearly without the need of light helping you see everything. The muted glow of moonlight mixed with the city lights filtering through the window also come to play when he moves closer, as they help you see the glistening bead of pre-cum that appears on the head of his cock, slipping out of him as it subtly throbs the more you give it attention. It makes your pussy wet just to see it, your hot walls clenching on the inside, while your mouth waters with the urge to have another taste. 
No words are shared as you climb on top of him to straddle his waist. Despite feeling confidence at first, you start feeling off-balance once you sit down on him. Moving in the dark while being taken over by lust might be the reason why, so you place your hands on the pillows right on either side of his head to keep yourself up. With your upper body practically hovering above him and not a single fabric left on to cover your skin, your breasts hang over his face. This brings the look of hunger through his eyes that seems to glow in the dark. You can feel it transpiring from him before he lifts his hands to touch you.
“Oh, yes. This position has definitely become my favourite one so far,” Namjoon says with a whisper that fades to a groan as he cups your bare breasts. He does it with tenderness at first, bringing all the shivers in your body until you relax into his touch. Then he starts squeezing them, pressing them hard enough until it hurts in the most pleasant kind of way which draws a moan from your lips. 
That pleasant feeling rises from your core, sending your hips swivelling above him. Your body quivers when the head of his cock brushes against your clit, then he intensifies it further as he lifts your breasts and captures one of your hardened nipples into his sinful mouth. 
“Ah—fuck,” you moan at the sensation that he is bringing into your body as he sucks, and licks, and swirls his tongue around your hardening nub. Your head falls back, yet you also feel as if you are getting fully awakened as you continue moving and rocking over him, brushing your hot slit along the length of his cock. 
He releases your nipple with a pop of his lips and groans at the pleasure that he is feeling. Lifting his hips, he lets you feel the firm press of his erection when he murmurs, “I want to be inside you.” 
With a gasp, you open your eyes to see him. The dark hunger that you saw earlier has been taken over with another. A look that shows more passion and a deeper kind of lust that encourages you to make a move. Licking your lips, you reach down between your legs, finding his hard cock that feels heavy in your palm. You keep your eyes on him as you lift your hips and position the tip of his cock at your hot entrance. Slowly, you start lowering yourself back onto his lap. The thick head of his cock parts your tight opening, teasing and coaxing you with its width. His hands are gripping tightly on your hips as he guides you to sit down on him. Your body trembles as you take him in, taking inch by hard inch of his length until he is fully seated inside you. 
“Is this…oh, fuck!”—you hisses when the tip of his cock comes brushing against your pulsing walls—”is this okay?”
“Perfect,” he hisses right back, just as you let out a moan at the throbbing pleasure now rising inside you. His eyes flutter open once he feels your pussy taking him deeper. Keeping his hands on your hips, he smiles to you and says, “Take what you need from me, baby. I’m here for you.” 
There is something in his words that pinches at your chest, but you simply ignore it. The only thing that matters now is that you need him, and you need to relish all the pleasure that he is offering to give you. Once the burst of pleasure that you feel from him being inside you wanes into a series of muted spasms, you start to move. You begin riding his cock, starting slow until you are better adjusted to his size, before finally picking up into a pace that sends you into a delirium, where you are sent into the height of pleasure that you can only ever gain from him. 
“Keep going, baby,” he urges. His head falls back with a groan coming out of his lips when you follow his guide, doing it exactly how he likes it as you rise and fall onto his cock. “Yes, keep doing it like that. Just like that.” 
Seeing his reactions and hearing his words excite you even more. It pushes you into becoming more wanton in your action, encouraging you further to give in to your needs and to please him while you chase your own release. 
The resounding climax comes soon enough. Just when your thighs are beginning to burn and shake in each firm stroke of his cock into your depth. The sound of his deep groan that comes through his lips as the first wave of your orgasm flutters around his cock becomes the final warning as he finds his release. His hold on your hips tightens, and he begins to buck his hips to meet your steady rocking. After a few thrusts, a few more steady strokes of his girth against your walls, he finally gives in to his needs and takes control. With a strained groan, he begins fucking into you with fervour, thrusting upward just as you come back down, each thrust keeps growing faster until you feel him getting more erratic in his movements. You open your eyes to see it happening as his face grows tense, right before you feel the warmth building up inside you as he comes. 
Seeing the sight of him embracing his climax, hearing the sounds that he is making, and feeling him throbbing inside you as he is filling you with his warm release quickly pushes you towards your own. You fall onto his chest when your orgasm hits you like a wave. Starting from your core, it flows intensely within you and spreads down to your limbs that you can no longer hold yourself up. 
And Namjoon gladly captures you in his arms, folding your body against his chest as he slowly turns to his side and gently helps you lie on your back before he pulls out. You immediately feel heavy with sleep the moment your head hits the pillows. Then your body sinks deeper into the sheets as Namjoon carefully pulls the blankets over your bodies. Once he is done tucking you back to sleep, Namjoon slides away from you. Yet he doesn’t leave you for too long, only rising to grab something to clean the mess on your bodies and on the sheets beneath you before he is back, gathering you in his arms again.
As if he wants to make sure that you can feel him even in your sleep.
Your eyes get heavier, until you no longer able to look at his face when he kisses the top of your head. “You did a good job, baby,” you vaguely hear his whisper as you are slowly drifting back to sleep, falling into a much calmer, more peaceful slumber. 
The words that he gives you next help soothe both your body and soul, as he murmurs to you softly with simple words that work almost like a spell and a fragile promise to give, “Remember this moment. Think about this every chance you get. Until there are no more space for those nightmares to come in when you sleep at night. Even when I’m not here with you.” 
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On a different night, you wake up to him shifting on the bed, searching for you. 
Namjoon hums softly as his hands find your waist in the dark. His fingers run down your skin as he gently turns you until you are lying on your back. 
“Hmm—” you hum and mumble as you are slowly getting dragged out of your slumber. Your bedroom is dark, with nothing more but the glow of the moonlight permeating into the room through the open curtains. With the help of the muted light, you can see the silhouette of his face—the unmistakable sight of his strong jaw that takes form, the tip of his nose and his full lips, before you manage to find his eyes through your bleary eyes—as he hovers above you. His lips turn to a slow grin once he notices that your eyes are fluttering open.
“Did I wake you?” he whispers, “I wasn’t planning to, I promise.” 
A lazy chuckle escapes you at how innocent he sounds. As if he is caught doing something that he shouldn’t. Something naughty, and he feels guilty for bothering you with it. Though the tone of his voice makes you wonder, “What are you trying to do?”
His grin deepens, and you can almost see the dent on his cheek—the dimple that you would usually touch when you are touching his face—taking form. “I’m suddenly feeling hungry. I was thinking about getting a midnight snack.” 
You blink through the dark and lazily raise your hand to point towards the kitchen. “Hmm—you can find some cookies in the cupboard. Or cereal. I know you love your cereal, so I bought them for you when I went to buy groceries today.” 
The sound of his low chuckle pierces through the dark. “Actually—” Namjoon dramatically sighs, making you even more curious. You force your eyes to open wider and look at him with your brows furrowed. “I was thinking about having a different kind of snack.” 
It takes you a moment too long to understand what he is getting at. Your eyes are still heavy with sleep and have only slightly adjusted to the darkness around you that you can barely see him moving. But you can definitely feel the heat of his kiss as he presses his lips on your bare shoulder, and you can feel the bed dips when he begins crawling down, all while his hands come down to claim a gentle grip on your thighs, parting your legs open for him. 
He draws the sound of your gasp when his warm breath falls on the apex of your thighs. The skin there is still soft and tender after taking his rough pounding after dinner—something that you can be sure he can still feel on his own skin because of the way you pinned him between your thighs while you were embracing your climax—so you jerk a little when you feel his lips brushing against it. Namjoon looks up before he does anything else, catching your gaze to ask, “You don’t mind, do you? I don’t think I can go back to sleep until I’m filled.” 
Your heart flutters once you are starting to see where this is going. Yet the feeling that materialises deep within your core is not as as innocent as the reaction that is coming from your chest, when heat pulses and you get to feel something wet leaking from between your legs. Smiling at him, you prop yourself up on your elbows so you can get a good look of his face. “No, I don’t mind it at all,” you answer, already feeling your walls pulsing from anticipation. 
“Good,” is the only thing that you can hear from him as he dips between your legs. He lowers himself further, almost sinking into the sheets as he starts kissing his way up from the inner sides of your thighs and all the way up to your folds. His hands are steady as they hold your thighs apart to keep you from closing them on his face, and his mouth expertly finds your nether lips even without any help from the lights.
“Oh, God,” you moan softly with your head falling back, your fingers sinking into the sheets. Every nerve within your body sparks alive, awakened from whatever state they were in while you were still deep in sleep as Namjoon begins working his mouth and tongue against your hot core. His jaw feels rough against the soft and tender skin of your thighs, and you are almost sure that you can feel the thin presence of his stubble which he rarely allows to grow thickly on his chin. His warm tongue feels delightful as he laps between your folds, licking away every drop of your arousal as he slides his way up and down your slit. 
Namjoon lets out a soft, agreeing hum once he manages to find your swollen clit, which he quickly captures between his sinful mouth to give a light suck. The sharp gasp that you make from the rush urges him to continue. Alternating between working his mouth around your clit and slipping his tongue down your slit, he sends shock waves of pleasure through your body. It gets you crying out, moaning his name with ragged breaths as you ride the pleasure.  
“Hmm—this is it,” he mumbles with his mouth still pressing at your folds. “I fucking love the way you taste, I can never get enough of it.” 
His words are muffled once his mouth returns to your heat again. As the pleasure rises, your muscles tighten within you, coiling so fast towards your climax. Twisting the sheets under your hand, you reach down with the other and presses the back of his head deeper into you. A handful of his thick hair slips between your fingers and you give a clench, not enough to hurt, but enough to help you feel like you are still in control of yourself despite feeling like you are unraveling. 
Soon, your breath quickens as your climax surges through your body in intense waves. Your toes curl into the sheets beneath you, while your hips jerk violently against his mouth, pressing down to chase it as it comes. His hold on you tightens as you writhe in your pleasure, keeping you down as he continues working his mouth to devour your release. 
And he still doesn’t stop. Still not letting up even as the spasms of your climax slowly wane into a flutter.
You are only partly aware of the way you are moving, riding the waves of your orgasm with your hips rocking into his face. Your hand sinks deeper into his hair, nearly pulling at the strands as you press his head deeper, just as you are beginning to feel the pulses of pleasure rising back up again. You are teetering on the edge, yet your stubbornness takes over, unwilling to let it come to you so quickly when you had just earned your climax.
Something that he quickly notices, and he doesn’t let you get what you want so easily. 
As your pussy walls are contracting with faint signs of another climax getting through you, and the sounds of your moans and your rough gasps blend together, he slips a finger inside you, pressing against your inner walls. And he doesn’t stop until he finds the sweet spot that sends your pleasure soaring higher. High enough until your entire body quivers with it, your hips almost lifting while being taken over by the delirious bliss. 
Noticing that he has found your weakness, he continues working his fingers, moving it in and out and pressing repeatedly on that very same spot which had drawn a reaction from you, and he keeps doing it in the same rhythm as his tongue. It makes you feel even more elated in your pleasure, until you finally reach your final breaking point and your second orgasm comes rolling through your body. 
Your legs are shaking. Your heart is pounding so loudly that you can barely hear anything else but the sound of your ragged breathing. And you are unaware of his next movements as he slowly pulls away and begins climbing up, finding a new position as he hovers over your body. 
With a sly grin, Namjoon licks his lips and uses the back of his hand to wipe off the rest of your essence that is coating his chin. “Delicious. Exactly what I needed,” he whispers as he moves on top of you. He presses his lips on yours, getting you to taste yourself through his tongue as he deepens it. 
Still lost in the momentary bliss, you struggle to catch your breath. Yet your body seems to be entranced, when it reacts on its own the moment you feel his erection pressing on your legs and you readily open yourself to him, allowing him to return to your center where he settles into position, going back right to where he belongs. 
A sigh comes out through your lips as he moves his lips from your mouth and down to your neck. He nips at your skin, drawing a sharp inhale of breath that comes out louder as he enters you. He starts moving, with deep and slow thrusts as if he wants to take his time with it this time instead of giving in to his wanton needs. 
As the pleasure rises inside you, climbing at a slow and steady rhythm that feels comforting at the same time that he makes you feel euphoric, a new wave of emotions comes through your chest. You wrap your arms around his shoulders and your legs around his hips as you unravel this new feeling that comes poking at your chest. And you continue that way, giving in to the delightful pleasure as you rock into him, meeting his slow thrusts with your rocking hips. Doing it over and over until it becomes so intense and the coil within your core snaps.
Tears drop to your cheeks as you succumb to your final orgasm, and you quickly bury your face on the crook of his neck before he can see yourself falling apart. In the height of your pleasure, you suddenly feel emotional, like a dam had just been broken inside you. Not only because of the euphoric feeling that is taking over you in your release, but also at the realisation that comes through your mind right after the blissful fog begins to subside and your mind is cleared enough for you to think. 
Fear engulfs you when the reality of your circumstances finally dawns on you, when you realise that there is no possible way that you are going to be able to survive if he should ever decide to leave you again.
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The first time I found myself in your arms and felt how easy it was to fall into your embrace, I simply thought I was dreaming. For the first time in my life, I felt how beautiful it was to fall in love, and to be so loved in return, and I never wanted it to end.  And my prayers were heard, because you never left.  Even when I was ready to let you go, you simply held me tightly in your arms and never let go.  How was a girl not to fall in love so deeply when something like that happened? To have the only person that she dreamt about suddenly loving her back, giving her all the attention that she could only dream of? Whenever I would recall that night in my head, I would often wonder—what would have happened to us if that night never happened? Where would we be today?  How would our story have played out, if only you never knew how I truly felt for you?
Eight years ago…
“What am I to do with you?” Namjoon whispered, breaking the silence that had been accompanying the two of you since the moment you sat down with him on the porch. 
The student residential that you rented together with a few of your close friends from college had normally been quiet. But that had not been the case that night, and you had no other choice but to escape them by hiding on the dark, dimly-lit porch.  
Keeping your eyes closed so you could feel him, you let out a soft giggle and asked, “Why? Am I so hard to handle?” 
You could sense him smiling without having to see it when he answered, “Saying that would be an understatement.” He kissed the top of your head, and your heart soared. A content sigh slipped out of you as you wondered if this was just a dream. Because it felt too good to be true that you refused to believe that it was real. That he was giving you all the attention that you had craved and waited for for a long time. 
Never once had you ever thought that you would be here at all. To be sitting by his side with his arm around your shoulders and your head resting against his chest. To be this close to him when you had only been able to watch him from afar before, let alone to be teasing each other like this. 
His low chuckle stirred something deep in your heart. Because you loved how it sounded, and you loved how he made you feel when he did just that. “You have no idea what you do to me,” he said, before shifting on the seat and turning you in his arm so he could look at your face. “You know that you’ve been driving me crazy, don’t you? I never know what to do with you, especially when you’re like this.” 
“Like what?” you asked him with a smile, though it wavered when you caught the sad look in his eyes. Almost as if he was feeling guilty. 
Namjoon let out a sigh and briefly closed his eyes before saying, “Looking like you’ll cry if I try to pull away.” 
Your heart ached upon hearing this. Because he was right. You did feel like you were about to cry. You often felt that way with him, mostly during moments like this one, when he was just about to leave you for the night. Watching him leave had always been torture, when it almost felt like a wake up call to see him walking away, reminding you of the reality that you kept denying to see to keep the dream life that you were living in with him. That night specifically, you felt like everything around you was slowly crumbling, that he felt so far away even when he was still there, holding you close to him. 
Taking a deep breath, you breathed in his scent and his entire presence, and you were instantly brought back to the night he first took you in his arms. Back to the first time you ever felt his love. 
Merely a couple of months had passed since the night of your confession. 
It was the night that was supposed to have given you closure. A night where you were supposed to close a chapter of your life which you spent keeping your unrequited love a secret from the world. 
Hearing the news of his upcoming graduation had been the catalyst for you to make that decision to finally put your truth out there. You had hoped that admitting all the feelings that you kept denying through the years would give you a sense of relief, a chance to be freed from the treacherous feeling that was deeply rooted inside your heart, and then you would be able to find a way to move on from him once the secret was out.
He was leaving anyway so it wouldn’t matter once he is gone away.
That was the silly logic that you kept in mind when you talked to him about it, when you finally told him everything in the final month he was to remain on campus. 
“I’ve liked you for a long time. I tried to ignore it, but it was getting harder and harder to forget and deny how I felt when you kept being nice to me and you continued answering my calls. I’m not asking for anything, just for you to listen and to know that I’ve fallen for you. As silly as it sounds, but I do love you.”
There was no expectation on your part to what kind of response that you would be getting from him. At the very least, you had put aside all kinds of expectation in the first place, knowing that his heart belonged to someone else and there would never be a place for you in his life. The only thing that you expected was to feel relieved, which you successfully gained the moment the truth was out in the open. It felt freeing once you managed to put your emotions into words. It felt peaceful, that the moment you were done, you were able to look back at him with a smile on your face, and a resolved feeling that you were ready to let him go. 
But Namjoon refused to let you go. His offer to take you home right after that encounter had unexpectedly escalated into something else, which finally became the beginning of your nefarious conduct which lasted for so long. It became the main reason why you were in his arms this very night as you clung to him almost desperately to feel his presence for the last time before you had to see him go.
Namjoon cupped your cheek gently with his palm as he looked deeply into your eyes. While you had no clue of what was going through his mind or what he was seeing in yours at the time, you had the sudden overwhelming feeling of fear. Because you already felt him slipping away from your grip, and even if you could still feel his warmth pressing against you, the distance that would start to grow between you became palpable. 
And you felt helpless when you had no idea how to change that. It was already late at night and you could hear your housemates going about inside the house to end the evening, but you cared nothing of it. You felt as if you were inside this small bubble that felt comforting yet fragile, and you only had seconds before the bubble would crack and everything would be gone.
That he would be gone for good.
He was supposed to be leaving that week—actually leaving—and deep down, you could feel that the moment he left, that would be the end of it. And in his silence, you could almost feel that he was saying goodbye to you for good. 
You had no idea what you were thinking then. Perhaps you weren’t thinking at all, and you had simply acted out of instinct. That would have been the perfect excuse for the indecent response that you gave to his innocent touch. 
As his hand moved gently across your cheek, you turned your face and pressed your lips on his palm, kissing him softly. His breath was caught right then, as he never expected that you would have done something so intimate, yet so risky at the same time. 
His next exhale of breath was trembling as he brushed his thumb across your lips. As if he wanted so badly to kiss you but was afraid that someone might come out of the house and witness it happening. Wanting the same thing, you did something else to make up for not being able to kiss him so openly while showing him what you had desired from him at the time. You kept your eyes on him as you slowly parted your lips, and took the tip of his thumb and started sucking it gently. 
It was a simple act. Something that was so subtle. And yet, you could tell how much it was affecting him. The shudder that ran through his body was delicate and nearly muted, even more than your little act, but you could feel it through your body which was connected to his. Even if you weren’t able to feel it, his reaction was still visible to your eyes. Because you had spent years watching him, taking notes of his emotional clues and the expressions that he would make during various circumstances, and the dark look in his eyes was an unmistakable sign of his desire burning from the simple teasing act that you were doing to him. 
You continued nibbling on his thumb and taking the digit into your lips just a knuckle deeper. Then you started sliding your lips back and forth, stopping briefly to slowly bite the tip and lick around it, until you heard the sound of his soft gasp and his eyes began fluttering to close when it got too much for him to handle. A soft groan came out of him and he tried to pull his hand away. His thumb slipped out of your lips, yet you caught his hand, placing your palm at the back of his wrist as you turned your face to start kissing his fingers. 
His eyes never wavered as he watched you kissing his digits, doing it excruciatingly slow while keeping your eyes on him the whole time, allowing him to see your intention through your gaze. What you wanted from him was clear, yet you wanted him to see it for himself instead of having to say it out loud with your words. Exhaling a long, shaking breath, Namjoon licked his lips and once again brought his thumb to brush your lips, before intentionally pressing its tip between them and sliding it in once again so he could feel your tongue lapping across the skin. 
“I really, really, have no idea what to do with you,” he whispered, and his voice trembled as he did his best to hold back from reacting more, yet you felt no remorse for making him feel this way. Before you could say a thing, he tightened his hold around your shoulders and moved his hand away from your lips to the nape of your neck. He played with the strands of your hair as he leaned down to rest his forehead on yours. “You’re killing me, baby,” he whispered with a bitter chuckle. It sounded desperate, as if he was struggling so hard to fight against his restraint.
“That’s not what I’m trying to do with you,” you teased him with a whisper. Being this close, the urge to kiss him felt overwhelming, yet you held back and simply bit down your bottom lip before you could allow yourself to break all of your restraint and give in to temptation. 
But then he threw all of your effort out the window when he suddenly offered, “Come with me.” 
You opened your eyes and looked at him questioningly before asking, “Where?” 
A smile appeared on his face, and the sadness and guilt that he showed you earlier faded into relief as he found a resolution that was going to change everything. “Away from here. I just—” he started to say, stopping himself when his own self-doubt came over him. He looked nervous as he made you this offer, as if he was expecting you to refuse when he asked again, “Please. Do you trust me?” You nodded, and he continued, “Will you come home with me?” 
The answer came to you so easily, even without him having to convince you further. Because you were willing to follow him wherever he wanted to go, just as long as you could be together with him. “I’ll go anywhere you want me to,” you said to him, and his relieved smile became more visible. 
No words were ever needed to be spoken as he kissed your temple, finally unable to resist giving you more while still being hidden under the shadows of the night. Then he took your hand in his as he stole you away from your friends and the house that you had been residing in since sophomore year, without ever giving you a chance to change your mind. 
That night was when everything between you officially shifted. When everything that you had expected to be a short term kind of fling turned into something else as you left with him. It was risky, and it was probably the stupidest thing that you could have ever done in your life. But as you followed him that night, you were absolutely ready to take all the risk and to face everything that may come in your way of spending that part of your life with the man you loved. 
Because being with him worth all the pain, the tears, and all the sacrifice. Even if it meant sacrificing your light just to have it all. 
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Present day…
“Will this be okay?” 
You raise a hand to cover your eyes from the bright sunlight so you can have a good look at him. Your lips lift to a hint of a smile as you watch Namjoon moving before you. Bent down on his knees, his arms are flexed forward as he is busy spreading a picnic blanket on top of the small patch of ground that he chose not long after arriving in the city park. 
In your eyes, he looks almost as if he is completely out of his element, which is an amusing sight to see. It isn’t so much about him being out here under the sun, nor it has anything to do with your surroundings, but more because he is showing you a different side of him that you have longed to see. Ever since the first time you got to know him, Namjoon has always seemed so calm and collected. Always so put together. Yet as he tries to meticulously sort out the picnic blanket, he looks a bit awkward and clumsy, though he still keeps a wide smile on his face that seems unrestrained and free, a sight that you enjoy seeing from him the most.
There is another thing about him which draws your attention aside from his bright smile that warms your heart. You look down as he stretches out to tame the corners of the blanket that keep rising due to the passing wind, watching the muscles on his back and shoulders straining under his thin t-shirt as he works to solve the problem while treating it as if he is working on a piece of art. 
“Alright, I think that’s about it,” he says with a groan as he carefully pushes himself up, snapping your thoughts just before they can get anywhere near the dark places in your mind. He moves quickly as he rises back to his feet, giving you no chance to say a thing before returning to your side. 
“So…what do you think? I figured this spot would be good enough for us. Don’t you think so?” Namjoon asks you with a soft sigh, sounding quite relieved and proud of himself for his work that it brings a smile to your face when you see it.
You take another look at the spread blanket, noticing how it is positioned on even ground where the grass is soft enough to cushion your weight and just arm’s length away from the nearby line of trees to give it enough shade to protect you both from the sun. There is quite a comfortable distance between this spot to the crowd of picnic-goers that you see filling the park, making it an ideal place for you to enjoy this leisure moment together with enough privacy from prying eyes.
“It’s perfect,” you tell him as you carefully place the heavy picnic basket that you have been carrying on top of the blanket. Straightening up to your full height, you breathe in the fresh air around you and smile as you relish the warm sunlight falling on your skin. “The weather is lovely today.”
With a soft hum, he takes a step closer and places his hands on your shoulders. “That’s why I decided to take you out here today. I want to enjoy being in the sun with you,” he gently says as he kisses the top of your head. “This is much better than being cooped up at home on your free day, don’t you agree?”
Something about his question puts you to a halt. It isn’t so much about what he said or how he said it, but it was something that his question implied which suddenly makes you feel uneasy. He probably didn’t mean anything other than pointing out the fact that you have been spending your day offs resting at home, oftentimes with him, instead of spending the day hanging out in the open like this. 
And he wasn’t truly wrong when he brought it up either. Because that is exactly what you were planning to do to spend your long weekend. But as fate has it, he found out that his schedules are aligned to yours and wasted no time to came by so he could be with you. It was a nice surprise to find that you would be able to keep him to yourself this weekend, but then he gave you yet another joyful surprise when he first suggested to take you out on this cute picnic date. You were obviously overjoyed by the idea that you immediately agreed without thinking too much of it. 
Looking back to it now, you finally realise why it had brought you such joy when he talked about taking you out here today, and why it has felt peculiar to be out in the open like this for a change. It was all due to the fact that you have somewhat grown more used to seeing him in a completely different setting. 
Due to the circumstances of your relationship, you have often spent more time with him in the privacy of your home, completely hidden from the world outside. Even when he takes you out on dates, he would find a way to keep things on the down low. From taking you to those dinner dates in restaurants with private rooms or quaint cafes on the outskirts of the city, to slipping into the movie theatres once the lights have been turned off. 
Before today, you have only treasured those stolen moments with s joyful heart. But now, as you are standing here with him under the sun, a different kind of emotion comes through your chest. It feels dark and heavy, and yet you have no intention to delve deeper into it. Not now, when you are supposed to be enjoying this moment with him.
Sighing, you ignore the feeling of bitterness that is slowly making its way to ruin your mood. “I guess you’re right,” you say to him, “this is a nice change.” 
A nice change that should be making you happy. And yet—
Taking a good look around you, you get a view of the spread of green grass that appears bright under the sunlight. Nearly half of it is now covered by various blankets and folded chairs in different spots where people are lounging under the sun. Most of the picnic-goers have come here in groups. Most of them came here with families and friends, while there are couples who seem to be enjoying their time together. 
Normally, you wouldn’t care much about the people around you, much less to compare yourself with them, as you are afraid that it might shatter the illusion that you have created for yourself. You have no idea what compels you to do it now as you watch closely at the lovers around you while you are leaning back against Namjoon’s broad chest. A sense of longing comes blooming inside you, as you picture yourself being in their shoes. To be the one holding his hand so freely in front of these people, to be showing him love—kissing him, touching him, laughing together under the sun—instead of cowering under the shadows. You wish you could be like them, to have what they have, instead of feeling like you have a target placed on your back for the sinful secret that you are hiding inside. 
That’s because you are not like any other couples that are out here today, who truly deserve what they have now. 
You wince as the bitter voice of your conscience fills your head, and the bitterness that you vaguely felt earlier starts gripping harder at your chest. It comes to remind you about your choices, the reason why you are more deserving to only be able to embrace his love in the safety of your home, or while you are hidden in the private room within the fancy restaurants that he often takes you to or to the outskirts of the city where you would be far away from prying eyes. 
Like a dirty little secret that he has to hide.
“So—” Namjoon whispers as he kisses your shoulder, oblivious to the dew that is forming in the corner of your eyes as reality hits you hard that the fractures in your heart start to resurface. And yet somehow, even in his unawareness, he still manages to help soothe your unsettling feelings away as he gently rubs his palms up and down your upper arms. “Aren’t you going to sit down and join me? You know I worked my hardest to get everything set up perfectly.” 
You briefly close your eyes, silently hoping that it would be enough to clear the tears away so he wouldn’t notice your change of mood before you get to look at him again. “I suppose it would be a shame to waste all of that hard work,” you whisper to him while feigning a teasing tone, yet you avoid looking into his eyes as you take his hand, allowing him to help you step onto the blanket. 
Namjoon joins you once you are settled nicely on the picnic blanket. He easily finds comfort as he lies back with his elbows propped behind him after he is done helping you set out the drinks and snacks that you brought out today. 
“Now this”—he sighs as he stretches his long legs out—”is comfortable. Just how I pictured it when I thought about bringing you out here today.” 
His comment puts a smile on your face. “I hate to admit it, but when you first offered to take me out today, I thought you had gone mad. One minute you talked about how cozy it was to cool off at my apartment while complaining how hot it was outside under the blaring sun, the next minute, you started making lunch and was packing them up in a picnic basket,” you tease him with a chuckle, making him laugh as he still has no idea about the dark storm that is brewing inside your heart. Tilting your head up, you embrace the warmth falling on your face and exhale a deep sigh, hoping that it can help calm your heart. “Thank God I decided to listen. It really is nice being out here.” 
Hoping to ease the troubling feeling inside, you relish the warm sun for a bit longer. Not realising that he is using this moment to slide closer. Until you feel his warmth hovering against your side. You turn to look at him as you open your eyes, finding his warm gaze looking back at you. 
“I’m also glad that you agreed to come out here with me. I think we both needed this,” Namjoon says to you with a gentle smile on his face. For a brief moment, you wonder if he can sense your uneasiness when he appears to be cautious as he shifts a bit closer to you. But you soon figure out that he has something else in mind as he slides one hand around your waist and pulls you his side. “This is one of the things that I missed,” he murmurs as he leans down, once again pressing his lips on the exposed skin on your shoulder. “Do you remember back then, how we would escape from the city together and find places where no one would recognise us?” 
Of course, you still remember. Those had been some of the old memories that you still have of those days and the precious moments that you would always look back to. While most of the details from your old love affair have turned foggy over the years, there are still small moments that you would often revisit when you were thinking about him, even long before your fated reunion which had eventually led to this day. 
The night when you confessed your feelings, for example, has been the one memory that will forever be engrained in your mind and would return to you even when you try your best not to think about it. Then there was the night where your sin nearly got exposed, when he took you home from your secret date during the end of semester break and you arrived to a full house as your housemates had returned early from their vacation. You stayed under the shadows on the porch that night for a long time until both of you decided you weren’t ready to end the tryst, and he sneaked you out of your home to take you to his, where your carnal tryst continued all through summer in the safety of his home. 
But the part of your memories that would often cause your heart to flutter would be the times he took you on those secret escapades that he mentioned. When you were not being hold up in your bedroom nor were you hiding in his house downtown, you used to sneak away to have your secret outings to various places where nobody would be able to find or recognise either of you. You have often thought of those moments as the memories that gave you joy to remember. At the same time, thinking of those moments also reminded you that everything you had with him was real, instead of something that you conjured from your own dark fantasy. 
Oftentimes, you would wonder if both of you remember those events differently. If he had been simply using those outings to steal moments with you while hiding your relationship from the people who knew who you were, while in the meantime, you sought validation through those stolen moments and have been remembering them as passionate getaways to savour where you felt loved, and where you were finally able to garner his full attention the entire time without anything else getting in the way. You might never be able to find answers now after so long. But no matter what kind of intention hidden in those moments, the truth would always remain the same. That you were simply pretending to be actual lovers while you were together in places away from home, always taking all the chances you could get to forget about the reality waiting back home.
Before you can say anything, Namjoon gives you a small smile to say, “I won’t blame you if you had chosen to forget about those times we spent together. I would understand if you wanted to forget. But for me, it was hard to forget about them. The time we had during those outings,” he says, taking your hand and kissing the back of it, “were the happiest time I ever had. I would think about the little trips we had when I’m alone, wishing that I was out in the sun, having my own secret adventures to get away from the city with you by my side.”
You want to correct him and let him know that you have never once forgotten about the beautiful time you shared. Yet you bite your tongue, when your curiosity only draws you to ask something else. “Have you not been able to do that with—” 
A knowing look flashes through his gaze. There is no need for him to hear the end of that sentence to know what you are about to ask him. And he isn’t allowing you to question it out loud or to mention about her, when he leans back in to give a chaste kiss on the corner of your lips and turns his attention on the neglected food and drinks that have been spread out before you. 
“Why don’t we start on lunch before the food gets wasted for being under the sun too long?” Namjoon offers you as he reaches out to open one of the food containers. Just like how he meticulously prepared this entire picnic set-up, he carefully peels one wrapped sandwich before handing it out to you and carefully prepares the salad that he packed up together with it. He then continues by reaching out to grab one of the tumblers filled with cold drinks and prepares a pair of clear glasses. The ice inside the tumbler makes sharp clinking sounds as he takes it in his hand. 
“I’m sure you’re thirsty too. I made us something that would help us cool down under this heat,” he says as he hands you one of the glasses and starts pouring the drink that turns out to be homemade sangria which he prepared from home, kept chilled with extra ice inside its container. “I have purposely added a hint more of your favourite red wine in this,” Namjoon softly chuckles as he presents you the glass of drink, though not before dipping a straw to go with it. “I hope the drink is refreshing enough for the heat. Maybe it can help you relax a bit more too.” 
You blink your eyes, surprised at how on point his comment was. You never realised that he might actually be able to sense your uneasiness no matter how hard you have been trying to hold it back. You say nothing to that, however, and choose to simply take a hefty drink of your alcoholic punch, hoping that it can help to ease your mind. 
As the alcohol hits you, a comforting warmth rolls through your body, while the ice does enough to cool you down. You take another long sip, relishing how good it makes you feel while ignoring the fact that it wouldn’t take long for you to start getting tipsy with how much wine he added into this drink. 
Maybe it would be better once you do get a bit more tipsy, you simply convince yourself, because then your mind would stop going back to those dark places in your head. With a content sigh, you look up at him and smile. “You did good with your choice of drink. I’m sure this is going to help me a lot to relax. Though I should probably warn you that I can be a bit of a nuisance if I get drunk too early in the day, so you have to be responsible when that happens.” 
“I don’t mind,” Namjoon simply says to you as he leans back closer. Within a blink of an eye, his face has become much closer, and his lips are now hovering against yours. “I’ll take all the responsibility, as long as you’re having a good time with me,” he adds with a gentle voice, before giving you a chaste kiss right on the lips. “Now eat.”
Smiling bashfully, you pull away and start diving into the meal. For a short moment, it feels like you both fall into some sense of normalcy in the guise of your picnic date. With any thoughts about the past pushed aside, and no more conversation shared to remind yourselves about his other life that he leaves behind just to be here with you, you allow yourself to indulge in this peaceful moment where you can once again pretend that you are just as normal as the other pairs of lovers around you. 
You both fall into an ease as you talk about mundane things in life between the meal. Sometimes while teasing each other, other times giving each other light touches and stolen kisses just to celebrate each other’s presence. You watch endearingly as little children run across the opening to play together, some chasing their pets while others are chasing each other, filling the air around you with the sounds of their laughter. You have long stopped comparing yourself to other people around you when you glance towards the pair of lovers sitting nearby, finding shelter under the shades just like you do as they lean against each other while watching the view around them. 
“I must say,” you say to him as you pick up a piece of chips after finishing your sandwiches, “that I didn’t expect that you would do so well with all this food. The mini sandwiches?”—you hum softly—”so good.” 
Namjoon laughs at your comment. “You’re exaggerating,” he says, though it is quite obvious that he enjoys the compliment when he flicks the tip of your nose and kisses it. “But it does more than enough to boost a guy’s ego to be complimented by his girlfriend and I can’t say that I minded it. I feel like I can start bragging about being the best sandwich maker in town.”
His antics draw a giggle out of you. He doesn’t often act this way, which is why it pleases you when he can be so open like this from time to time. “Well, I like boosting your ego,” you tell him as you reach out to grab your drink right after he refills it, “among other things.” 
This got him lifting his eyebrows. He can tell that the alcohol is already affecting you as you are starting your third glass, after only switching to the fresh juice once in the middle of your meal earlier at his advice to avoid getting tipsy too soon. “And may I know what are these other things might be?” he asks as he rests on his side, propping himself on one elbow and facing you. 
You bite your lips before you haughtily answer him, “I think you already know the answer to that.” Your gaze trails down his upper arm, drawn by the way it flexes under his shirt to hold up his weight. Uninhibited thoughts start rushing through your head, drawn by the building lust that suddenly rises to its peak. Add that to your tipsiness, and you suddenly become a bit shameless. Mischievous ideas run through your head as you think of ways to tease him, to misbehave so you can draw a reaction from him for once. 
Pulling the straw between your lips, you take a slow slip of your cold drink while feeling hyper aware of the attention that he is giving you. You can feel his gaze on you without you having to take a look, and you can feel him watching every movement you make. Feigning innocence and acting as if you have no wicked intention in mind, you start playing around with the thin straw, biting and sucking at the tip and sliding your lips lower like you are sucking—something else. His eyes seem to grow a tad bit darker as he is drawn to what you are doing, bringing a smile to your face at how easy it is to affect him so much. 
His lips tug to a subtle smirk when he lifts his eyes at you. “Don’t act like I don’t know what you’re doing right now,” Namjoon mutters to you with a low voice. 
“What am I doing?” you tease him back, and he easily retaliates by pulling you to him. You laugh as you fall against his chest and feel his lips pressing at your skin, just below your earlobe. Your breath quickens, just as you hear the soft groan that he is making, no doubt still affected by your teasing. “Would people be able to notice if we try to do something—naughty, under these trees?” 
He chuckles softly and turns you to face him. “Like what?” he asks while leaning forward until his face gets so close to yours, “kissing you deeply until you forget how to breathe, or pulling you to my lap so you can ride me when there is a risk that these people can see what you’re doing?” 
You bite your lips, now becoming the one affected by his teases and his words when you imagine doing everything that he suggested while being out in the open. You hate being the one to yield first when you were the first to start this game, so you lean closer and brush your lips against his earlobe as you whisper to him, “I’m thinking about doing something more risky, like taking you inside my mouth like I did with the straw.” 
“Fuck—” he curses under his breath. You can tell that you had managed to send his mind all the way down to the gutter, and his body is reacting down below. He has his eyes closed briefly when you pull back. 
“I remember that we did something similar a while back—” you mutter softly with a smile as you are brought back to the past yet again. Bringing you back to another unforgettable moment that you shared with him then. “Remember when you took me up on that hiking trip right outside of town? I wasn’t that big of a fan when it comes to hiking, but you convinced me to it.” 
Namjoon lifts his eyebrows and starts wiggling them. “I remember doing a lot more than convincing,” he teases you with a deep chuckle. 
“Oh, we also did a lot more while we were up there on that hiking hill,” you tease him back. Your cheeks immediately flush as you recall that weekend. Years have passed, but that day remains in your memory to this day. The long hike that you did with his hand sometimes reaching out to yours just to make sure that you could keep up with him. The scenery that you saw—the tall trees, the spread of fresh green grass and odd-shaped boulders that you found once you were close to the top, the hidden spring and small waterfall that you found between the carved ridges. But the magnificent and unforgettable part of it was slipping into the hidden grotto right below the waterfall after dipping into the spring, where he held you with his strong arms while you rocked above him, filling the rocky walls with the sounds of your wet bodies slapping against each other under the blinding bliss. 
You lick your lips at the memory of your pleasure, and how you dropped down on your knees right before you started to make your way back down the hill and took him in your mouth one last time until he unraveled completely. Tilting his head, Namjoon looks at you closely with an intrigued look filling his eyes. “Do I want to know what’s going on in your dirty mind right now?” he asks you with a mischievous smile on his face. 
“Hmm, I don’t know,” you tease him. “Do you want me to share?” You look back at him, smiling, before taking the straw back between your lips, slipping it deep enough until it almost reaches your throat and start sliding your lips up towards the tip before actually taking a sip.
There is something dark in his gaze when he realises what you are doing. But you only manage to get a quick glimpse of it before he pulls you back to his chest and buries his face at the crook of your neck. “You’re fucking killing me here,” he says with a deep, frustrated groan, before he finally gives in to temptation, as he pulls your drink away and captures your lips, giving you a deep kiss that would have been enough to make any child or bystander blush if only they can see it. 
He makes you completely breathless from the kiss, and your skin flushes with warmth that has nothing to do with the bright sun above your head. Yet the moment he pulls away, you quickly notice the way his dark eyes seem to dim. 
A heavy silence soon grows between you, and you are quick to notice the change in his mood. There is nothing unsettling about it, nothing about it that makes you feel like he is slipping away or that your little world is crumbling to pieces, yet it is still enough to make you start questioning things. As he lies back down on his side like before, he seems to be so deep in his thoughts that you feel curious to know what is going through his mind right now. Something tells you that he isn’t reminiscing the hiking trip that had gotten you feeling warm or many other liaison that you shared with him in the past, so you cannot stop yourself from asking him, “What are you thinking?” 
The corner of his lips tilt to a small grin as he mulls over his answer. “I just—can’t remember when was the last time I felt like this,” he finally says to you with a wistful tone of voice, a dimple appears on his cheek when he looks at you.
“Like what?” you question him, feeling more curious than ever to get inside his head. To know how he actually feels about being with you. “How do you feel?”  
Namjoon releases a deep sigh as he deeply thinks about it. “I feel like I’m free. Free to do whatever I want without feeling heavy around my shoulders. Free to be myself,” he says, sounding content as he says these words, as if he is relieved to be able to get them out of his chest, “not to be shackled by anything worldly that is forcing me to be someone that I am not.” 
Something about his words, his revelation, pierces through your heart. You have always wondered why he would always have such a forlorn and faraway look in his eyes at times, but this is the first time you get to hear what is happening behind the looks that he makes. Namjoon grabs your hand and starts rubbing his thumb in circles across your skin, finding refuge in your presence alone. “I love how I can always be free to joke around like what I’m doing it with you and enjoy the things that may raise some eyebrows for some.”
His words—and the way he says them—draws a smile to your face. Even when your heart feels heavy because of what he seems to be dealing with. He looks straight into your eyes when he sighs deeply and continues to say, “It took me some time to realise that I’ve only ever been able to do these things when I’m with you.” 
You take a deep breath, trying your best not to get emotional. “To do what, exactly? To follow your needs and act on them?” you tease him, hoping that you can lighten things up just as the tension coming from his personal burdens seem to be lingering in the air.
When he doesn’t answer you right away, your heart starts beating rapidly. You feel uneasy. Prior to this, you had often wished that you could find a way to get inside his head. Namjoon may have been sharing a huge piece of himself with you which he claimed to have never shared with anyone else before, but there is always another part of him that you haven’t been able to read. He may have been baring his soul whenever he is with you, but his deep thoughts have always been another mystery that you have never been able to solve. You always had this fear to dig deeper, to open the deepest layer of himself to see what is hiding beneath, afraid what it might do to the illusion that you have created for yourself about the two of you. 
“Remember when I told you long ago, about how a person tends to become a reflection of another just to fit someone else’s image of the perfect lover or partner so they could stay with the people they love?” he asks. There is a woeful look in his eyes when he looks at you that makes your heart heavy.
“I remember,” you answer bitterly. You remember it perfectly well because it was the answer that he gave you when you found the courage to ask about his life that you never got to see. To find out the reason why he managed to stay in the relationship that he had with another for such a long time even when he didn’t seem to be—happy. When you openly questioned if he had truly loved her that much to stay, so much so that he could never choose you over her, the answer that he gave you had only revealed something more. “Do you still feel that way? Even after years had gone by, do you still do such a thing?” 
Again, he doesn’t give you an immediate answer. Instead he turns to look up at the sky, and that glum look in his gaze appears clearer under the bright sunlight. “I suppose I am the one to blame. I wanted to create that image in the first place to win her heart, so I could become someone who was more deserving to be with her instead of the person that I knew myself to be,” he says with a bitter chuckle. The sound does something to your heart that you feel the sudden urge to wrap your arms around him. The irony of his situation makes you ache for him. But there is nothing that you can do or say about it. 
There is a look in his eyes that is enough to stop you from doing anything else but to listen. The look of acceptance. An absolute defeat, which is something that you had never seen from him before. As if he has simply surrendered to his own fate, to the life that he had written for himself. 
“I never realised how exhausting it would be to continue living my life that way. I probably shouldn’t be complaining about it, not after so long and when I was the one to make it happen in the first place, but it feels like I’m losing myself. I have been losing myself. I’ve been feeling like I have become a mirror of my true self that I have to constantly hold up in front of her and everyone else to create the perfect image of myself that she could love, that everyone could accept,” he speaks with a voice that sounds defeated, and it causes the ache that you have been feeling for him to bury itself deeper into your heart. His small smile looks broken when he turns to look at your face again, only to say, “But I had to keep it up, right? Because I can’t bear the responsibility of breaking her out of the illusion of me that I created for her.” 
And just like that, the bitterness hits you right back in the chest. Listening to him talk about her has never been easy. Unlike then, it no longer feels painful to hear him mentioning her so lightly like this. The feeling has grown numb over the years, also added with the fact that you have been trying to avoid thinking or reminding yourself about her presence ever since he is back in your life. But it still doesn’t mean that you are now able to hear him talking about her without feeling like your heart being ripped apart. 
Hiding your clenched hands under the skirt of your sundress, you remain silent to allow him to continue. Then Namjoon surprises you when he suddenly pushes himself up to a sitting position. He gently reaches out, finding a stray strand of hair and slowly tucking it on the back of your earlobe. His gaze feels intense when he is looking at you, then he begins to speak, revealing another hidden part of his that you have always desired to see. 
“With you, everything is different. It always has been, even from back then,” he murmurs, almost to himself as a wistful look comes through his gaze, replacing the dark gloom which you previously saw in his eyes. “With you, I never have to pretend. How could I, when even from the very first day we met, you have always been able to see right through me?” 
“Is that so?” you ask him with a trembling voice. He nods just as you see glimpses of your first encounter that many years ago back on campus, when you made a single comment that must have gotten stuck in his memories as much as it did with yours, 
“As someone who is supposed to be a motivational coach for freshman students like myself, you’re not exactly looking like a bright sunshine either. I bet you didn’t even want to be here, did you?”  
You cannot help but smile as you recall his reaction. The way he gawked at your audacity at first before he bursted into laughter. By the time he was done, any tension and dark mood that followed him evaporated, and you got to see his eyes brightening up with new enthusiasm to deal with his new underclassmen of the year. And it was the same brightness that caused the instant attraction you had for him which later manifested within you for a long time. 
Just as you are brought back to that specific memory of the past, his smile is lifted as if he is recalling the same thing as well. “You were the only one who saw it. Who saw me. As if you knew that I was having a rough time, and the last thing I needed was to be in a student gathering night where I had to deal with freshmen years when all I wanted to do was to have a quiet night by myself so I could think.” He chuckles softly and continues to play with the wild strands of your hair that he manages to catch between his fingers. “But that wasn’t the only time you did it, was it? You’ve always been able to see right through me, to look past my facade that I showed everyone else around me. You make me feel like you can see what’s beneath—my head, my soul—even when I tried my damn hardest to hide it from everyone.” 
Your breath is caught when his gaze finds yours. This would be the first time in your life that you would get to see yourself through his eyes. You have no idea what compels him to talk about all of this with you. Looks like you aren’t the only one who is getting affected by his mix of drinks, after all, when he continues to spill his deepest and darkest secret, revealing to you what he has kept inside his heart this whole time.
“I know I never said anything, but—” Namjoon says, suddenly choking up, “I wonder if this was the reason why I always gravitated towards you even before you began to act so friendly towards me each time we met,” he admits with a bashful smile, drawing your own as your memory takes you back to those days, when your gullible self would always be drawn to him whenever he was around. Even before you realised that you were harbouring a secret crush on him, you would look for any reason to cross paths with him. It felt so long ago that you can barely remember all the details. It is astonishing to find that he has a better memory of your past encounters when you had always thought that you have been the one to cherish them more. 
When you have spent years believing that you were the one who had fallen first and harder, and that you were the one who felt a lot deeper between the two of you. 
“At first, I only started to pay more attention and look you up out of curiosity. I wanted to see if it had only been in my head, but the more I got to know you, I became more curious to know how you managed to do it so easily, to see through everything that everyone failed to see,” he continues while you are left speechless. Believing that you might choke or cry if you say something, you keep your mouth shut and bite your tongue, allowing him to continue opening up, baring his soul the way he never could before. 
“I soon realised that I found comfort by talking to you and spending time with you. It was always so easy for me to reveal myself to you without feeling like I was forced to, and it felt—freeing, to be able to do that for the first time.” He exhales a deep sigh, looking like he had just dumped a whole weight off his shoulders by talking about this when his smile grows. “It was addicting, the feeling that you came to me whenever I met you. All it took was for me to sit down with you for a couple of minutes and I felt like I could breathe again.” 
He releases the strands of hair that he has been playing with and let them fall against your face, then gently cups your cheek. “I never thought that it could lead to anything else. It never crossed my mind to act on that feeling, mostly because I didn’t understand what it was,” Namjoon murmurs softly while he absentmindedly starts moving his thumb on your skin. Then he lifts his gaze and smiles. “Until you suddenly came to me to confess your feelings.” 
A chuckle slips out of his lips as he recalls what had happened that night. “That was quite surprising. I think I already knew that you may have had a crush on me, but I ignored it, probably thinking that if I didn’t say anything, I wouldn’t have any expectations and I would be able to savour spending more time with you. But when I realised that your confession was meant to be your closure, that you were trying to move on, I got—” he swallows hard and furrows his eyebrows, “I panicked. I got scared. Because I knew that I was losing you.” 
When his gaze lifts up, you get to see it—the fear that he felt then, and the tears that are formed in the corner of his eyes at the thought of you leaving him for good. “I couldn’t bear it. That’s why I couldn’t stop myself from kissing your lips instead of letting you go when I should have.”
Just as he says those words, his raw emotions are shown in his eyes. It gets you all choked up to see it, to feel it, to finally realise that he feels this much just for you. Concern plagues you, as you try to imagine what kind of life that he has been living in since the day you were gone.
“Do you—still feel the same? Do you still feel like you’re putting up a facade even right in front of—” 
Her. Even until this moment, you still cannot find it in you to talk about her or to mention her that easily. But if what you have been feeling about her is envy, jealousy, and hurt—for the fact that she is the one blessed enough to live a life where he is in it—what you are feeling now is rage. Infuriated to think that she would allow him to keep living this kind of life just to be with her. 
“I think—I’ve been doing it for so long that I’ve forgotten how to live without doing it,” Namjoon says with a bitter smile on his face. “I must admit that I was beginning to doubt myself and everything that I’ve built in my life. I’d spend my nights wondering if what she has for me is anything close to love, or if she loves me for the idea that she has of myself that I had created for her instead of the real me that has been pushing its way to come to the surface.” 
Then his smile shifts into something that looks more to be relief when he looks back to the night you came across each other once again. “The day we finally met again—” he says, still with a smile on his face, “it happened right when I started questioning myself. I had no idea just how much longer I would be able to keep up with this facade. Because it has been exhausting, and it was starting to kill me inside. The more I felt like I was losing myself, the more it felt like it was sucking my entire soul.”
You blink away the tears that have been forming in your eyes while you were listening to him. A sudden burst of anger fills your chest after hearing what he has to put up with, when you have been spending your life thinking that he was living the life that he had chosen for himself and finding happiness in it. “Then why do you keep this up? Doesn’t it make you feel lonely?” 
Namjoon gives you a wry smile. “Just like I told you,” he says with a slow sigh, “you have no idea.” 
His answer only makes you frown. During all the times he has been saying those same words to you, you have only been brushing it off, telling yourself that he has only been saying those things to please you. But the look you see in his eyes as he repeats the same thing to you now tells you a different story. 
In his eyes, you see a glimpse of his broken soul. His loneliness that he may have had buried for a long time now emerging through his gaze like a deep void, pulling you towards it. Right at that moment, every last bit of doubt that you ever had about this relationship immediately shifts. Just when you had thought that all the existing bond you shared may have only come from lust, and from the desire that always burns so rapidly the moment you are in the same room, you realise now that there is something more there. 
Just like how you have always found solace in his presence, to feel like your heart and soul are awakened the moment he touches you, it turns out that he might be feeling the same thing. That your presence feeds his soul in a way that no other ever could. Perhaps that is the reason why you always gravitate towards each other, even after the universe tried to split you apart. All because you need each other. 
Because your souls crave each other’s presence to survive.
“The night we crossed paths at the mall, I felt—relieved, more than I was astounded to see you again. It felt like my questions and prayers were answered. All at once, everything came back to me the moment we spoke and then sat down together, and it made it hard for me to walk away. The feeling of freedom that I could only feel when I was with you felt like a drug, and it made me feel like I was coming back alive again,” he continues, still with his deep eyes looking into yours, letting you see the truth in them. 
“You’ve asked me why I kept coming back,” he adds with a smile while you still unable to find your own voice to speak, “I guess this is your answer. This is the reason why I keep coming back to you, and also the reason why I know that I won’t be able to let you go. Not again.” 
Just then, the tears that have been forming on the corners of your eyes begin their descent before you can do anything to stop it. A sense of closure fills your heart. All the bitterness and the dark thoughts are lifted when you return his smile as you brush away your tears. 
He pulls you to his chest and holds you there. Finding comfort in his embrace, you don’t make a move aside from wrapping your arms around him. His heart beats steadily against your cheek and you close your eyes to find calmness in it. 
Yet, even in the solitude of your shared silence and relief, your mind still refuses to remain quiet, and another question feeds your curiosity.
"Do you think we deserve to be happy?" you ask him as you gently pull away, while Namjoon falls silent. 
"That's a tough question to answer. But if I have to be honest?" he starts to answer after mulling it over for a moment. "For me? I don't think I'll ever deserve it. Happiness is not for someone like me. A sinner, whose heart has been tainted." A bitter chuckle slips out of his lips as he looks up at the sky. There is a wry smile on his face when he turns to look at you again, fading as quickly as it appears. "But the same can't be said for you. You deserve to be happy. You deserve to be with someone who can make sure that you are given a life where you are constantly smiling and laughing, enjoying your life the best you possibly can instead of having dark shadows haunting your gaze every time."
You swallow the heavy need to cry when you question him, ”Is that how you see me?"
He answers you with a soft hum. “When I look at you, I see someone who is resilient, strong, hard-headed yet always knows what she wants and how to get it. You have a heart that's so big, filled with so much love to give, and you carry that heart openly in your sleeves,” he says as he slides the pad of his thumb across your cheek to wipe off your drying tears. "Deep down, your soul is still pure. Yet the shadows in your eyes show a different kind of story." 
Pursing his lips, he begins shaking his head slowly as if he is feeling regretful. “That's why I always believe that I don't deserve you. I don't think I ever will. Not when I'm the one who put that shadow in your eyes because I can't give you what you needed." 
"What if that shadow only appears because my soul is just as tainted as yours?” your question comes as a whisper. “Because I'm in love with a sinner, and it's making me a sinner too."
"Do you really think so?" he asks, and his lips lift to a smile. “Maybe you’re right. But that only means that we’re one and the same, don’t you think?”
You smile back at him. “Then maybe that's a sign that we really do deserve each other."
Namjoon softly chuckles. “Maybe,” he hums as he pulls you back to his chest and presses his lips on the top of your head. You feel him closing his eyes as he sighs, and his voice is gentle when he whispers to you, "Yes, perhaps you're right. We do belong together.“
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If I must compare your life into day and night, then she would be the one to fill your bright days, always shining under the sun, while I would be the one to reside in your long nights.  Before I received the letter you wrote me, before I finally got those three little words that meant more than my entire world coming from you, I spent my time living with you while wallowing in self-doubt.  The world that you had inside your mind will forever be a mystery that I can never solve.  Yet you have always been honest with me. Always so open even when you had to tell me about all the painful truth. Letting me know that you no longer have anything left that you could offer or promise me except for the small piece of soul that you have been brave enough to show me. I have learned, after many years, not to be greedy when it comes to you. To take all that I could get and have only what I deserved to gain, just as long as I could be with you.  Even if I must remain in the dark. Even if I must remain living as a part of your night.  But as time passes, it becomes harder not to listen to what my heart desires. To not want more.  Because I will always want more. Even if I will never be able to put those silly wishes into words.
Once you are no longer counting the days, life simply continues and time seems to easily blur together. Before you realise it, nearly a year has gone by, and he still remains by your side. Yet time doesn’t seem to matter anymore as both of you continue to live your lives together in your small little world, built and secured safely within the walls of your small home. 
With him being a part of it, this place has become your safe haven. 
A place where you are separated from the outside world, protected from the reality that you have chosen not to take notice when you are together with him. The place that had once felt desolated and cold has now become a place of solitude, a place where you can live comfortably in the safety of his arms without having to worry about the future that lies ahead of you. 
It helps you forget the fact that he has another life to come back to—something that you choose to not think about on the nights that he wasn’t spending with you—and helps you put everything about the past far, far away from your thoughts so you can relish the joy of the present. 
Until tonight, when Namjoon suddenly brings it up again.
You are lying in your bed, with one of his arms laid under your neck and your head resting on his shoulder. This is something that the two of you would do whenever sleep eludes you at night, and you would fall into a comfortable silence while enjoying each other’s presence.
He has his eyes looking far over your head. In his silence, his gaze seems to settle on something that he sees in the distance as it lingers out the window. Looking over your shoulder, all you can see out there is nothing but the dark, night sky. But it seems that glimpses of the past are visiting him through the partly opened curtains when he suddenly mutters,
“You never asked me to leave her.” 
You turn to look at him. “What?”
For a moment, he says nothing else, though he still has a faraway look in his eyes as if he is still looking far back into the past. “Never once did you try to break us apart. And we weren’t married then, so it would’ve been easy for you to simply ask me to walk away.” Namjoon stops talking to close his eyes, briefly, then he looks down at your face when he opens those beautiful eyes again. He wears a smile on his face, one that is filled with curiosity and something else that is kin to guilt, when he asks you, “Why was that? Why didn’t you ever ask me for it?” 
Gnawing at your lips, you take a moment to consider your answer. You have no idea what to say or how to respond to his question, even if you do get what he is trying to say. You just never expected that he would question you about it after so long has passed since then. 
Closing your eyes, you start thinking about the past. Because you have wondered about it. The words had always been there, threatening to slip out of you each time you looked into his eyes and your chest was filled with dread for knowing that he wasn’t truly yours. But you always chose to bite your tongue, refusing to place this one simple truth out into the universe despite feeling the deep ache in your heart which was filled with longing and the desire to be with him. It wasn’t easy to continue lying to yourself, to hold back the way you did. And yet you still chose to do it, only because you had always known that asking that much of him would be too much, no matter how desperately your heart desired it to happen. 
For him to be asking about this now only forces you to recount everything—about your true desire that you had to bury deep inside, your undying wish, and the constant battle you had with yourself for denying your feelings.
Avoiding his gaze, you cannot help but wonder, “Did you want me to beg you to leave her?” 
His eyes are downcast when you look at him again. A deep, resounding sigh comes from him as he slowly answers, “I’m not sure about wanting it. But I can say that I expected that it would happen at some point. That you would ask me to make a choice, and for me to choose you over her. I guess”—he chuckles softly—”it was quite surprising that it was never brought up. I spent so many times envisioning every possible scenario of when we would be having that talk. In a way, I think I was preparing myself to deal with it should you ever bring it up and start demanding it, but it never happened.” 
His confession catches you off guard, and you have no idea what to think of this. Suddenly filled with a mix of emotions, you say nothing to him until he looks at you and asks you again, “Have you ever thought about it? About us being together?” 
You take a moment to mull over your answer before saying anything. The memory of having to refrain yourself from expressing what you desired the most seems to have been ingrained in you. You still remember everything—what it was like to be in that position, unable to be honest with your own heart, and it causes an immediate reaction coming from you as you once again find yourself holding back from admitting your feelings. 
But once you look into his eyes, you realise that things between you feel much different now compared to how it was back then. And after years have passed, you have grown to become a completely different person. Unlike then, you feel entitled enough to feel greedy. Deep down, you feel that you are allowed to be, and you have your own reasons to feel this way. 
Only because you refuse to believe that the universe has no reason for allowing you to meet each other again after so long. And you refuse to accept that you have crossed paths merely by chance after many years have passed only for you to part ways again the way you did years ago.
Sighing deeply, you find the courage to speak, seizing the chance to be honest with yourself, and to him. “Every single time,” you answer softly. And just like that, you feel as if the weight that you have been carrying is lifted, and you feel even lighter as you continue to open up your heart. “Even when I never said a thing, I wished for it. I prayed for it every single night when I had to say goodbye and watch you go back to her. I spent all the nights I had to sleep alone in my bed begging to the universe that you would be mine forever.” 
The more he listens to your confession, the deeper the crease between his eyebrows grows. “Why have you never said anything?” he asks you, sounding baffled as he listens to all of this for the first time, while you cannot help but respond with a bitter chuckle. 
“It’s not like I never wanted to ask or even beg for you to make it happen,” you admit to him with a shrug, then you tilt your head up, looking at him straight in the eyes to question him, “but what right did I have to ask that much from you?” 
When you already had your whole life planned which didn’t involve me becoming a part of it—are the words left unspoken, when it suddenly becomes too painful to recount the events from the past, just before the voice of your conscience speaks to you once more to say,
What right do I have to ask for it now?
You instantly bite your lips, hating how the voice of reason always returns to put you back in your place. Just like how it often did the same to you back then. In the past, you had always chosen to listen to that voice, to help you become the reasonable one between the two of you by refusing to be greedy and only taking what you could get from him. Now, you quickly brush it off, pushing it away so you can ignore it, and choosing to listen to your heart instead. Because not everyone gets a second chance the way you do now.
“You said so yourself, remember? You talked about how our stories had been written differently, that you have had your story plotted, written, with a proper ending to your story planned.” You smile bitterly when the ache in your chest returns, bringing back all the emotions that you had constantly felt whenever his words would come to haunt you. As if reminding you that you had no place in his life after everything was done. 
“I was young and dumb, and I didn’t exactly understand what you were saying then, but I knew that it wasn’t our happy ending that had been written for you. I think—” Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to look into the state of mind that you had back then, understanding yourself better now to finally comprehend the past choices you made and admitting it loudly, “I think, once I got that thought embedded into my mind, I just pushed away everything that I desired the most from you and simply took what I could get, while all I could do was to wait and prepare myself for when our time together would finally be up.” 
Namjoon falls silent yet again as he takes in your words. It makes you feel a bit silly now that you put your past thoughts into words. But just like you said, you were too young and dumb to know what would have been the right thing for you to do and how to express your feelings, something that you had never been capable of doing.
But not being able to formulate your feelings into words had not only been your true reason to keep quiet about what you wanted. 
Asking him to make such a big decision would require you to have hopes. The kind of hope that you could never allow yourself to have. Not in the position you were in back then. Even if you ever had the courage to be honest about what you wanted, even if you tried to do it without allowing your hope to bloom, you still knew that it would eventually come either way. 
You know then how it would have tainted everything once you started demanding more, that it would have ruined any blissful moments that you were having with him. And it would certainly have only left you with more bitter memories than the good ones that you still keep with you to this day.  
“How about now?” he gently asks you after a moment has passed. “What do you wish for now? What do you pray at night?” 
With just one look into his eyes and by listening to the tender voice that he gives you, any resolution that you have had about not wanting to act as recklessly as you did then or to give in to your heart’s desire dwindles. All of your defences that you have put up to keep you from getting hurt again this time start to wane. 
This is your chance…
You can almost hear your own heart speaking to you, encouraging you to be honest—not only to yourself, but also for him to be able to see your true desire. The deep, warm look that you find in his gaze feels just as encouraging, allowing you to put your feelings into words. 
“I pray—” you begin to speak without looking away from him, “that if this is just a dream, then I don’t ever want to wake up. I just want to stay here with you, just like this, where nothing else in the world matters but us.” 
You stop for a brief moment, biting your lips once you realise that you have finally told him everything that you have been keeping inside. 
There is no turning back now that the truth is out. There are only two kinds of reactions that you can get from him after hearing your confession. Either he stays, or he decides that you both want different things and he will no longer want to have anything to do with you. 
This thought had been the reason why you were wary about being honest with him. Just like him, you had thought of any possible scenario that might have happened once you shared with him what you truly want from him, to actually ask him to choose you instead of the life that had been planned for him. And each time, you had pictured him choosing the last option, and you had always seen yourself accepting it, knowing that it would be the only thing that you would ever deserve to get from him.
Because you don’t deserve to have him sacrificing his entire life for you. 
Tonight, however, you find some resolve growing within you when you look into his eyes. This time, you feel like you are allowed to hope. You are allowed to demand more from him, and you are allowed to fight your hardest until you can finally get what you have always desired. 
“I want to be with you. I want to be the only one that you hold at night, the one lying down beside you like this to listen to your voice as you talk about your day. I want to watch you walk out the door in the morning without feeling worried or scared that it will be the last time I’ll ever see you again, and I want to be able to go about with my day feeling optimistic as I plan how I’m going to be spending my night with you instead of wondering whether or not you’ll be coming to visit.” 
Once the words continue to slip through your lips, it feels as if there is a dam within you that is breaking down. You didn’t expect to become so emotional about this, but it feels freeing to be saying all of this out loud, that your tears come flowing down your cheeks once relief takes over you. 
“I want us to be like any other couple, to go on dates, picnics, to have afternoon walks in the park, maybe go on a trip far, far away for a lengthy of time,” you continue with bitter laughter slipping out of your lips as you recall your picnic date. The picnic date which revealed a whole lot more that you could ever handle. 
A wave of melancholy floods through you when you remember everything that went through your mind that day. Having him opening up to you, allowing you to hear his deep and dark thoughts about his relationship with his wife had given you a sense of reassurance. Yet it lasted only for a short period of time. As that day had brought to light a myriad of other things that you still have to deal with to this day.
The insecurity that you felt from being with him in the open was a feeling that has not been so easy for you to shake off. You remember feeling inferior while being surrounded by all those people. Those who were lucky enough to be with their loved ones without having any worries. The feeling of jealousy and the desire to have what they had has helped open your eyes to see everything that was wrong about your relationship. 
It has made you realise now more than ever just how sheltered he has made you feel by being with him. It has brought back all the past memories that you have overlooked each time you reminisced the past, to remind you everything that you had to endure just to be with him. Like how you had to watch him attending campus events with her by his side, while all you could do was to watch them from afar and wait until the moment he could return to you once the day was over. Sneaking around your friends just to be able to steal a few hours within the day to see him. The lunch dates that had to be cut short each time any of his friends or yours would suddenly appear to catch the sight of you while you were together. 
Every night, you would always be haunted by how he made you feel. The sorrow you feel for being hidden like a dirty little secret. Always waiting on the sidelines until it was your turn to come out into the light.  
“I want to be able to hold you forever, not only until we reach an expiration date for whatever it is that we have now, but until the day I breathe my last breath. I want to be able to scream to the whole world how much”—your voice gets caught in hour throat before you try to say it out loud—“how much I love you. How much I’ve always loved you. I want to show everyone that you are mine. And I want us to be able to be together under the sun, holding each other’s hands in front of everyone who gets to hear about our story, instead of hiding in the shadows the way we have been.” 
Namjoon moves his hand just as you speak, gently pressing his palm on your cheek as he brushes away your tears with the pad of his thumb. “Is that what you truly want?” he whispers. His voice comes out so soft that you nearly miss the way it trembles. But it is the look you see in his eyes that gets you. The look that feels so intense that you can feel it in your chest. 
“Yes, that’s what I want.” 
Without another word, he pulls you against his chest and leans down to kiss you. He wastes no time dipping his tongue into your mouth, deepening the kiss while taking the rest of your words and your breath away. Still high with emotions, you feel like you are melting under his touch, allowing him to take over your body and soul completely as he turns you over until you are lying beneath him. 
You have no idea what is going through his head right now. But with the way he is kissing you, touching you, and easily covering your body with his as if your bodies have been moulded to be the perfect fit, none of it seems to matter anymore. Placing your truth out there has felt so heavy but relieving at the same time, and all you need now is to feel him. To have him mend your heart after opening it wide for him to see what is hidden deep inside. 
As he makes sweet love to you, tenderly and slowly, you finally get to understand the real reason why you had never been able to completely move on from him. For so long, you had simply thought that it was all because you had not been truly healed from your broken heart. That your heart had been so fractured that you were unable to love anyone else the same way you have always felt so deeply for him. 
But he makes you see the truth when he easily brings to you to the brink of your pleasure through each slow thrust, each deep kiss, and with every gentle touch he gives you, making you feel all the things that no other person had ever been able to make you feel. It is all because of his sweet lovemaking, when he makes you feel alive and complete. 
And because when his eyes find you, he isn’t simply looking at you. He sees you. Sometimes unabashedly undresses you with it, other times it feels like he is making you a promise without saying a single word. A single gaze with different meanings that you can hold on to.
And that gaze is what you find in his eyes when you open your eyes in your blissful moment of climax and contentment. Through his eyes, you find his silent promise, to see the words that he is unable to voice out loud. Looking deep into his eyes, you also get to feel his love. You can feel it caressing your entire body and soul as he embraces his pleasure, as he bares his soul for you to share with you everything that he has been hiding within his own heart.
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I never asked much from you, except for your heart and to ask you to love me back. To appreciate my existence instead of denying my being. To help make me feel less invisible even when you were not here with me.  Even then, there were still some words that I kept wishing to hear from you. Words that seemed impossible to be spoken, because no matter how many promises you had given and kept for me, I had always known that there was one promise that you had given and one that you would never be able to break.  The promise that you gave her. 
“I’m leaving her.” 
Back then, many years ago, you dreamt of moments like this, to hear him say those words to you. Whenever you would look back in the past, you would often wonder what would have happened if you ever had any courage to ask him to say something like this. 
It feels too overwhelming to accept that you are not just imagining things. That he had truly just said those words to you, completely unprompted, after weeks have passed since the night you spilled your secret wish and talked about what you truly wanted from him. 
What your heart still desires from then and to this day.
Shaking your head, you try to deny that this is happening. You have to. Because you can already feel your silly little hope blooming in your chest, thinking that he truly meant what he just said. “You can’t mean that,” you say to him with a wry smile, still refusing to believe him. Yet when his determined gaze doesn’t seem to waver, it tugs you out of your denial.  
“But I do. I mean every word I said,” Namjoon says to you almost pleadingly, and you can feel your resolve cracking under the firm tone of his voice. You try to avoid his gaze so you can remain in denial, yet he refuses to let you ignore him as he walks over to you in his fast and long strides until he is standing right in front of you. Taking your hands in his, he forces you to look at him in the eyes when he says, “I want to.”
The breath that you take trembles, and it gets caught in your chest for the fear that you might break. Seeing this, Namjoon tightens his grip on your hands to get you to focus on his words before you start panicking. “Remember when we talked about what you truly wanted? When you finally shared with me everything that you’ve never been able to ask from me? Well, this is me finally being honest with what I want. This is what I’ve always wanted but never could admit,” he says, almost rushing in his words as if he has been keeping it inside for too long. 
“Do you mean it? Do you really mean this?” you start questioning him once you are able to find your voice again. “You told me—” you choke out a sob, “you said that you couldn’t promise me anything when you already made one promise to another.” Just when you say those words, his words from many years ago return to your thoughts, echoing inside your head the way it always does whenever you reminisce that time in the past where he unintentionally put your wishes to rest, 
“Maybe if things had been different. If she had been the one to say it first that it was over between us and I could erase everything that I had given her—every promise, the silly vow we made with each other, everything we planned—then I would have been able to give you more…” 
Namjoon visibly winces as he is reminded of those same words that he gave you then. When he closes his eyes, you can tell that he finally understands the real reason why you could never find any courage to tell him how much you wanted to be with him, or to even demand that he would give up everything that he had built for you. His face crumbles with remorse when he opens his eyes again and sees the look on your face. Reality seems to dawn on him after hearing your words, and he pulls you into his arms just before a tear drops from your eyes. 
Closing his eyes, he takes a long, deep breath and then exhales it slowly. “I admit that I was…nothing more but a coward and a complete fool back then. I had so many opportunities to make it right by you, to make a choice, but I was too afraid to walk away and face the consequences if I ever decided to take back my words. I thought we still had time. I thought I still had more time, but then—” 
You left. 
You close your eyes and bury your face in his chest, hoping that you can bury all the memories from the day when you decided that you had enough. It wasn’t because of your pride that you chose to walk away from his life, nor it was for your own dignity. You walked because of your own selfish reasons, only because you could no longer take the pain of being kept in the shadows and having to watch him live another life, loving another woman, and building an entirely different life when you were building your entire world around him. 
“After you were gone, I kept regretting my choices. I regretted the fact that I couldn’t be honest with myself and allowed myself to be complacent on what we had until everything fell apart, and I lost you for good,” he confesses to you with his voice coming out almost to a whisper. “I spent my entire life regretting the fact that I had to lose you because of my indecisiveness,” he continues, while tears continue to flow down your cheeks as you take in this revelation. 
Namjoon pulls away with a shuddering exhale of breath to look at you. “But it’s different now. It has to be. I knew it ever since we crossed paths again, because it happened just when I finally gave up on hope. That’s why I know that I can do it this time. That’s why I have to do this. I can’t lose you again.”  
He brings his hands up and cups them on your face, allowing you to see the deep love in his eyes, the sincerity and truth that you desperately seek just so you can trust his words.
So you can allow yourself to have hope. 
Your shoulders fall in relief when you can see them, his emotions that are plainly written in his deep gaze, and you take it all in as he leans down, capturing your lips in his. Your eyes flutter to close as you embrace this warm feeling that he is bringing into your heart. 
“I also have my own regrets,” you say to him, your voice barely above a whisper. “I regretted that I chose not to say anything even when the truth was that I never wanted to let you go. Never again. It hurt too much when I did then. It’ll hurt more if I have to go through it again.”
As you look into his eyes, and just after you admit this feeling for him, more questions begin to arise. They come flooding your thoughts just as rapidly as the rise of hope you feel blooming in your chest.
Is this how your story with him going to end this time? With a happy ending, where you are going to be walking on the same path with him again?
Before you can find the answer, Namjoon lifts you up and carries you back to your bedroom. Like always, the moment you are in his arms again, all rational thoughts are gone out the window, leaving only wanton needs filling your mind. He lays you down on your bed and lowers himself above you, pressing you down with the length of his body. Your body welcomes him as he settles between your legs, making you acutely aware of the hard lines of his cock pressing down on you. 
It might have been the fact that your emotions are running wild within you that your body feels so sensitive and it reacts instantly to his touch. It makes you hyperaware of everything that is happening around you and all that you are feeling from him. The heat of his body, his rapid heartbeat, and the rush that comes building within you from his gentle touch. 
As Namjoon presses his weight down on you, your hips rise to meet him. The moment your mouths meet each other in a deep kiss, your body begins to move, rocking and grinding against his covered hard-on that suddenly feels to be carrying more weight. 
“I…need you,” you find yourself pleading as you rock your hips against him, rubbing your covered heat against his length. Your carnal need to feel his touch overpowers you so intensely that you fail to tell him that you are feeling this need because you want this to be real. You want him to show you what words would never be able to convey. 
But there is no need for you to say it out loud, when he gets it. When the look he is giving you tells you that this is exactly what he needs as well. A groan slips out of his mouth just before he pushes himself up and gets to work. In your desperate need to touch each other, both of you move in haste, almost ripping your clothes apart in the rush to get yourselves bare. 
Namjoon wastes no time once every piece of clothing is gone, pressing down on you and devouring your lips until you are left breathless, and your mind is silent. Even without a word, he is telling you everything that he is unable to give you through the kiss. Giving you everything that he wants to say to you by showing it through his actions. 
His kiss doesn’t relent as he grabs your hips, holding you in place while he settles right between your parted legs. Every move he makes is so gentle. He moves with so much grace and tenderness that you feel at ease, even when your heartbeat is racing so rapidly and your body is tense as you anticipate his pure loving. 
Lifting your legs up to spread them wider, he pulls away from the kiss and slowly begins crawling his way down your body. You barely have your eyes fluttering close when you feel his hot mouth capturing your nipple, his wet tongue circling around it once, twice, before he moves to the other and gives it the same treatment. With his tenderness, he draws a series of soft moans from your lips, and then he continues his journey down the rest of your body.
“I feel like I want to take my time with you. Like there is really no need for us to rush,” Namjoon says with a deep, gentle voice, making his intention clear without having to say the words out loud, though you can still clearly hear the need in his calming words. 
Your eyes are fluttering close yet again as he grows closer and closer to the source of your heat. Your hips are lifted when you feel his lips brushing against your mound, then you react with a moan as you feel his tongue pressing down between your hot folds.
Using his hands on your hips, he carefully tilts your body up, just slightly off the bed so he can dive straight in and bury his head between your legs. Grasping the sheets with both of your hands, you lift your hips and start moving, rocking gently into his mouth to chase away the pulses within. It seems to urge him on, when he lets go of all the tenderness as he licks at your folds, before finding your clit and clamping his mouth hard around it.
“Namjoon—!” A sharp cry comes out of you as he moves his tongue in circles, tasting around your tender bud and lapping at your arousal.
You run your hands through his hair, almost pressing him deeper into you as he works his mouth and tongue to draw out your essence. But there is a change here in the way he is devouring you. His hunger feels subtle, replaced by something else that feels more sensual and luscious as he takes what he wants gently instead of sucking you hard and fast the way he usually would. 
Namjoon remains there for a while longer, savouring your taste and getting lost in giving you pleasure. He keeps going, following the sounds that you are making and your reactions to guide his next movements. A flutter arises from within your tight walls, drawing a low moan from him when he can feel it too. His hand tightens on you as your legs quiver against his head, holding you down as you start thrusting against his mouth to chase your release. Keeping you down with one hand, he quickly moves his other hand up. As his mouth moves to capture your clit, his fingers replace his sinful lips, parting your folds and slipping inside, spreading you open before stroking them into your pulsing walls. 
“Oh, fuck—!” you cry out as your body rises at the snap of your tight coil, and a rush of pleasure takes flight within you, sending you to your blissful release. 
Keeping one hand touching gently at your pussy, Namjoon pulls his mouth away and starts climbing his way back up. Hot, wet kisses trail up your stomach, then your breasts, stopping briefly to tease around your nipples while his hands trail up the sides of your body to your breasts, before he comes up to kiss you hard on your lips. 
“I need to be inside you,” he murmurs against your lips, drawing a soft whimper from you when you want the exact same thing. 
He shifts on the bed, and you can already feel the heat and weight of his cock as it falls against your center. Your legs are spread around him, almost like your body has been programmed to welcome him inside you. Lowering himself on you, Namjoon presses into you gently, drawing out this moment for as long as he likes it despite the burning need that is practically vibrating throughout his entire body. But things quickly switch up when he slowly slides inside you, taking his time burying his length inside your warmth.
You moan at the pleasure he brings you and slowly buck your hips against his body as you wrap your arms around him, holding him tightly just when he continues moving. With his hands on your hips, he thrusts into you again, drawing the sound of your cry of pleasure. And he keeps at it, moving in and out of you with steady and firm thrusts, filling you up completely. Deep groans keep coming out of his lips at the way your pussy is wrapped around him in a claiming grip. 
As the pleasure heightens, both of your bodies tremble together. His jaw seems tight, a clear evidence that he is trying his damn hardest to hold back and make it last. But just like how you are quickly overcome with the increasing pleasure, you can tell that he is slowly getting taken over by his own pleasure. Digging your nails into his skin, you rock your hips to meet each of his thrusts, moaning and arching your back as you give in to the surging rush you feel from his intense fucking.
“Keep going, baby. I need…more,” you start begging him when you are reaching so close, the coil in your stomach tightening when you are teetering on the edge, already at the brink of your release.
At your words, he responds to you with a firm thrust. One that comes so powerful that it sends your body rising from the bed and shaking at the wave of bliss that comes with it. You take a sharp inhale of breath and hold onto him tighter, anticipating the climax that you are so ready to embrace, only to have him come to a halt. 
“Keep holding onto me, baby,” he says with a deep groan as you open your eyes to look at him. 
Before you can say a thing, he slides his arm around your waist and starts pulling you up with him as he sits back on his haunches. Wrapping his arms around you, he pulls you close to his chest and helps you straddle his lap while keeping his cock buried deep inside you. Once you are settled on his lap, his cock seems to penetrate into you deeper, pushing into your depth and making you feel completely full. 
“Fuck—so deep!” 
A low chuckle comes out of him. As if he enjoys hearing this coming from you and taking it as a compliment. With his arms tightening around you, Namjoon begins to move again, rocking gently beneath you as he thrusts his cock deep inside your pussy, starting slow at first and steadily picking up its pace once your body is adjusted to him in this new position. 
The pressure keeps building, and in its rise, your body reacts to every movement, every action, meeting each of his thrusts with your own rocking as you slide up and down his cock to ride the pleasure. 
“That’s it. Ride me, baby,” he says, coaxing you to keep moving. Using your arms on his shoulders as leverage, you rock faster against him, riding the high that comes as he fucks you from beneath and whimpering to each delightful rush that you feel as your walls brush along the length of him. “Fuck, your pussy feels so good around me. You feel so perfect for me.” 
His voice sounds strained with his undying desire, and once you feel his entire body shudder beneath you, you know that things are about to go intense. “I can’t hold back this time, baby,” he groans, drawing a gasp out of you as he pounds into you with a powerful thrust. 
“Then don’t. Fuck me, baby. I need it, I need to feel you, please.” 
He holds you tighter as he kicks things up to a notch and starts fucking you with all of his worth, as he pours all of his emotions into everything that he is giving you. As you clutch around him tightly, his thrusts keep getting faster and desperate, growing more erratic with his deep passion that seems to overflow. 
Sliding his hand up your back, Namjoon takes a fistful of your hair and pulls your head back, exposing your neck to him. His mouth finds your skin and he begins trailing hot kisses from your collarbone to your neck, finding his way up to kiss your lips. With his kiss, he swallows the sound of your moans as he steadily rocks in and out of you, distracting you from the touch of his hands as he rubs them all over your body. His mouth moves towards your lobe and comes lower, pressing against your sensitive spot which draws a shiver through your body. 
“Tell me that you’re mine. That you’ve always been mine,” Namjoon pleads with you with ragged breaths, tugging firmly at your heartstrings when you can feel the desperation in his words.
“I’m yours”—you gasp as he thrusts back inside you so deep you can feel it all over your body—“I’ve always been yours, and I always will be.” 
Once again, his entire body shudders against you. Though you can easily tell that he is responding to you with a whole different reason this time. As if your words are the ones that are snapping him out of his final restraint. You use the chance to rock back against him, pressing down as he pushes up, feeling the tip of his cock hitting your depth until you are shaking on top of him. 
As your bodies move together in a steady rhythm, he lowers his hands down your waist and guides you to move. “Keep riding me that way, baby. That’s it, cum around my cock,” he grunts, moaning in between his words with the pleasure you are bringing into his body. “Let me see you cum.” 
His words and his touch guide you as you move above him, chasing your high. You cry out as he slams hard into you. Your head falls back, loving how perfectly his cock is stretching your walls. The pressure keeps growing more intense. You can feel your orgasm building inside you as he continues thrusting into you hard and fast. The moment the first wave of your climax hits, your body arches into him, inadvertently rubbing your clit against his skin and the line of coarse hair under his navel, and it sets you off instantly. 
You are coming so hard that it feels like you are about to explode. Your muscles spasm around his cock, against his body, and the feeling surges through your whole body that you can feel the burning heat rushing everywhere. The sounds you are making seem foreign to your own ears as you cry out in your climax. The high-pitched moans that are followed by the sound of your ragged breaths seem to linger while you are riding your orgasm until everything starts to wane. 
The moment everything stops and you sag into his chest, you can feel that he is still hard inside you. Soft kisses bring you back to him, allowing you to feel the rock-hard shaft that is still embedded within you. Your pussy contracts intensely around him as he slowly lifts you up from his lap, pulling out his cock from your depth. Your head is still spinning as Namjoon lays you back down on the bed, barely recovering from your intense bliss, and he helps clear your foggy brain by kissing your lips gently, coaxing you to open your eyes.
“Turn around. I need to get deeper inside you,” he says, his voice sounding deep and raspy, strained with his need as he gently grabs your hips to guide you into position. “Get on your hands and knees for me, baby.” 
Your body trembles at his voice and command. You can feel that he is being weighed down with his pent-up desire—and perhaps the exact same emotions that you are feeling now—and it puts you into action as you slowly turn around, giving your back to him.
Namjoon moves to take his place behind you, and you start grinding your ass to him as you feel him carefully shifting closer, and you can feel the heat of his body pressing against your skin. His hands come down to grab your hips, holding you still as he presses his body against your back. And then you feel him, the object of his desire, his cock that is still rock solid and still wet from your release as it comes pressing against your behind. 
He slides one hand between your legs, finding your folds with the tips of his fingers. You let out a gasp as he presses his fingers against your clit. With only his tender touch, your body erupts and you can barely hold back from falling forward. 
“Please”—you gasp breathlessly—“I can’t take it anymore. I’m so close.” 
You can feel him shifting behind you, and he gently parts your nether lips while he positions his cock at your pussy. You feel a nudge, and you can already feel the head of his cock penetrating through your entrance, spreading your walls for him once again and making them pulse around his cock as he slowly slides his cock inside of you. 
A moan comes out of your lips at the intense pleasure that you feel as he enters you, and the sound that you are making quickly intensifies when he wastes no time and begins rocking, moving in and out of you with ease despite the intense flutter of your walls around him. 
“Fuck, baby. You feel so good around me,” Namjoon moans deeply as he fills you up, inch by inch, making you arch your back when he reaches your depth. A small whimper comes out of you as you quickly readjust to his size. Your body has grown so used to his presence, and it should have been easy for your bodies to join together if not for the fact that you are still too sensitive after your previous climax. It takes a while before your muscles stop fighting against him, and he can finally start moving with more ease. 
Once Namjoon finds his rhythm, he moves his hands from your hips, moving them underneath you until he finds your breasts. He cups each one with his palms as he fucks you from behind. His warm palms are pressing and kneading at your soft flesh while his deft fingertips are moving to play with your nipples, rubbing at them and pinching harder while he picks up speed. 
It makes you feel breathless when the pleasure feels so intense. Each hard thrust that he gives you makes you feel as if you are about to shatter into pieces beneath him, yet his touch brings you back together again each time. The only thing you can do is close your eyes and bury your fingers deeper into the sheets as you enjoy every second, every thrust, and the delectable way his body is moving against you. 
“Fuck me harder, baby,” you start begging him when the pleasure inside you increases, and you can feel yourself teetering on the edge of your climax. So close, but you need more to get there. “Please, Namjoon…!” 
After giving your breasts one last squeeze, Namjoon moves one of his hands back down to your hips, grabbing your flesh while he continues pounding into you from behind. He bends down, pressing his chest into your back when he whispers, “You’re so close, aren’t you? I can feel it, baby. You’re gripping me so tightly.” He groans as he speaks, overcome with his own pleasure as he keeps fucking you to your blissful end. 
“Yes,” you cry out between your ragged breaths. “Please. I’m almost there.” 
Instead of giving you what you want right away, he moves his other hand upward and wraps his palm around your throat. He gives a light squeeze, not enough to cut off your breath or to choke you, but enough to give tension which only intensifies the sensation you are feeling running through your body.
“Cum for me, baby,” he says with a firm voice, adding the pressure around your throat as he thrusts deeply into your pussy. “Give it to me one more time.”
His words and his rough handling of your body become the perfect spell to finally push you over the edge. Your orgasm builds inside you, increasing so intensely that your entire body shakes against him. And he keeps thrusting, pounding into you hard and fast, hitting all the right spots until you come to your final climax. 
Your pussy clenches around him as the waves of your orgasm take you over, ripping through your body until you cry out in your release. It feels so intense that it pushes him towards his own edge. Namjoon comes into a climax with his face buried in the crook of your neck, his mouth comes pressing down on you as he bites a small part of your skin.
Every sound, every sensation blurs together in your bliss. Even the gentle rocking that he still keeps up as he slowly rides out his orgasm feels like it is happening outside of your body. Once everything wanes, neither of you makes a move to separate, and you take the moment to relish the remaining spasms of your climax that are growing numb. 
“—love you.” 
His gentle voice breaks through the blissful fog that you are currently being stuck in. Every sound comes fading in and out as they all return to you and his voice seems so distant that you nearly miss it at first. But then he presses his lips on your skin, finding your pulse, and his voice clears out the moment he speaks again. 
“I love you. I always have.” 
Thinking back, there had never been a moment where he ever spilled his entire heart like this. Not until the letter that he wrote for you, where he slipped those three magical words between the words that he wrote to get you to see the world that was built around him through his eyes. 
Tears threaten to fall, and your eyes become blurry once again. Only this time, it isn’t the intense rush of pleasure that is blinding you, but the tears that are pooling from underneath your eyelids. 
“I love you too,” you find yourself saying to him before a sob breaks through. Giving him the three exact words that you never got to say to him back all those years ago. “I loved you with everything that I have back then, and I still love you the same now.” 
Once again, he buries his face in the crook of your neck. His chest rumbles against your back when he releases a soft groan. Just when you start feeling content in his embrace, he carefully pulls out and untangles himself from you so he can flip you over. 
Now lying on your back, you get a clear view of his face. His eyes are looking at you with an intense gaze, his lips are swollen from kissing you, and his cheeks are still flushed after his climax. 
“Say it again,” Namjoon says with a gentle voice, the complete opposite of the firm touch that he is giving you as he takes your hands and entwines your fingers with his. “Say those words to me again.” 
“I love you,” you whisper, drawing a soft sigh out of him. He lowers himself down, once again covering your body with his. You can feel his heartbeat racing in his chest as your bodies are pressed together, his lips hovering so close to your lips that you can feel his sharp inhale of breath and his slow exhale when he says, 
“Again. I need to hear it.” 
“I love you,” you gasp softly, though the sound fades when he gently kisses you. 
“Again. Say it,” he murmurs against your lips, and when you answer him, your voice comes out louder, firmer, when you give him what he wants. 
“I love you.” 
You have heard of stories about meeting the perfect match for your soul, something that may only happen to those who are lucky enough in life to experience it. The once-in-a-lifetime occurrence where you fall deeply for someone and have the entire course of your life changing. 
As you revel in his presence, you realize that this is it for you. That he is your person. The one that your soul recognises as its perfect pair. It feels terrifying to accept this rather than it is freeing. Because right at that moment, you instantly know that you will never be able to love anyone else again the same way you do him. You will never find the same kind of love, one that is devouring you from the inside, no matter how hard you would look for it.
And it terrifies you. 
Ever since the beginning, you have been going through this with him by facing it moments by moments, always with one feet ready to turn towards the exit, always prepared to face it once it ends. Now that he is offering you a future together, it scares you deeply that the only thing you can do is to hold him tightly, afraid that your fragile hope would shatter if you ever let go. 
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I love you. I am writing it here, plain and clear just as how I feel it. Like how you gave me these same words in your old letter. The same letter that helped me open my eyes to see the truth between us. I love you. Those three words would never be enough to show how deeply I feel for you.  Just how simple words would never be able to explain the reason why I have to walk away.  If only our story had been written differently, maybe we could have the ending that we have always wanted.  The perfect ending. An ending where you and I are together as one, forever, without being haunted by fear nor concern. Without having to wonder about what the world would think of us and forever be tainted with the repercussions of our sins.  I will forever love you. That part of my truth will remain unchanged. Even if everything has changed between us.
Your hand trembles as you finish writing the last part of the letter that you are planning to send him. 
It seems ironic to end everything through a letter. Only because it seems to you as if everything is coming to a full circle, when he was the one who sent you the letter which ended everything between you in the past, and now you are the one to pull the brakes with your words. 
In truth, you never wanted this to end. Never once had you ever thought that you would decide to once again walk out of his life just when there was something to hope for. But this has to end. This time, however, you have the right reasons to call things off instead of simply trying to keep what small part of your dignity left intact after you had sacrificed your entire heart and soul just to love him. 
Just like how you thanked the entire universe to allow your paths to cross each other’s once again so you could feel his love for one last time, you are now thanking the same universe for allowing you to see the light. To see the truth that neither of you had been willing to see.
You cannot remember how you found yourself strolling through the mall that night. It was six months ago, merely a couple of months after you began planning your escape, to be together with Namjoon after he promised you the rest of his forever. 
But you remember exactly what you found, and how it forced you to open your eyes and face the reality that you had wistfully ignored. As if fate had intentionally taken you there that night to show you what you needed to see. 
The pull that Namjoon has over you has always been—intense. Irrevocable. In a way that you could walk into a room and sense his presence before you could ever see him. That had been the reason why you managed to find him that night despite never knowing that he would be there. As you walked through the hall leading to the cafe which you regularly visited after working hours, and there he was, completely oblivious to your presence while he was dining in one of the restaurants nearby. 
And he was not alone. 
In your head, you have had the perfect portrayal of what kind of life that he has with the woman that he married, formed through everything that he had once shared with you. But that image went down the drain after what you saw that night. 
You had thought that she was the light in his life. The one person who has claimed the special place in his life, to be right by his side. 
But you were wrong this whole time. Neither you nor her had ever been his light, nor had you ever deserved to claim that special place in his heart, when it had already been reserved for someone else. Someone who was more deserving. 
And you only realised it then, when you saw him there with his baby daughter sitting on his lap. As you watched him tending to her needs with full of care while watching her lovingly as the small child blabbered silly nonsense to him over their little dinner date. Every illusion that you ever had about his life shattered the moment you saw the smile on his face. The way he looked so happy, so free, a sight of his that he had never shown anyone else before. Not even to you. 
Witnessing everything that was presented before your eyes, you realised how blind you have been. Though you also realised that Namjoon had always been able to make you feel that way, to prevent you from looking at the world around you whenever he had you wrapped in his arms. He had kept you in the dark for so long, veiled from the reality where his other life still existed, kept safely in a far distance where you wouldn’t be able to reach. 
That was the moment when you finally woke up from your dream. To realise that it would never be possible for the two of you to be together. Not without facing a heavy repercussion—like hurting an innocent soul and shattering whatever image that she had ever created of her father.
That was when you decided that you had no place in his life.
When you stepped away from the scene, the fractures in your heart presented themselves to you, reminding you that they were never truly gone as they manifested with each step that you took to walk away. The strong urge to turn back around kept weighing you down. Yet you resisted, choosing not to ruin what was possibly the sole reason that he ever had to hold on to the life that had kept him isolated even from himself. 
Namjoon might think of you as a coward, because that is exactly what you are. And what you have been doing for the past half of year has been nothing more but a coward move that no doubt has been hurting him since the moment you took that fated decision. Just when he was finally ready to fight for the life that he wanted to build with you, you had instead chosen to run. 
But you chose not to disappear from his life right away. You could never do that to him after everything that you shared together. And you needed a proper closure, to relish some more time with him and create more memories while you were slowly planning your departure. Starting by gradually avoiding his texts and calls and using your busy days as your excuse to see him less frequently as before. It pained you to hear his disappointment whenever you evaded him, and it hurt even more when you had to swallow your words, forcing you to keep the big secret that you had intended to share with him the night you saw him with his little girl.
During this period of time, something else had helped strengthen your resolve, making you more determined to move forward with your decision to leave. 
The conversation that you had with him about his life and the relationship that he has with his wife has been haunting you ever since that picnic date, way before you finally got to see him showing his love that was so pure to the one poor soul that you could never afford to hurt. For a period of time since, you have wondered if what he has truly been searching for with you was nothing alike to what you have desired to find by loving him.
You realise now that you can not be his saviour. And when you realised just how much younger and inexperienced you had been when you first met him, you have started to wonder if he had been trapped in the same situation that he has with his wife, when he had created an ideal version of you in his head that he thought he had fallen in love with instead of the person that you are today. 
What would happen if you were right and you had chosen to stay?
You had thought that you would be ready to face everything being thrown your way to fight for your love. But would you be able to face the same despair that he has been facing through his life, only to remain to be the same person that he loved, even when a lot of things have changed?
You look over to the pile of suitcases that have been set up in the corner of the room, ready to be lifted away from this place. Somewhere inside, there are a few of his things that you have collected and are planning to keep. Among them would be one of his shirts that you would often wear to sleep at night or when you are lounging alone at home. For some reason, that shirt has become your favourite among his other belongings. You love breathing in the scent of cologne that still sticks on its fabric, though it has grown fainter with time and from being washed over and over, yet it seems like everything about him still remains strongly in your memories that you can still sense everything about him all around you. 
Deep down, you know you should feel guilty for keeping some of his belongings when you decided to leave. Despite your wish to be able to move on, you want to keep the memory of his presence in your life in some way. Yet his old belongings are not the only things that you are keeping to forever carry a part of him in your life. 
For the first time ever, you can finally allow yourself to be greedy. Because this time, you have every reason to be this way. 
A soft cry calls for your attention from the next room, so you leave the unfinished letter on the dining table and rush your way over. The corner of your bedroom that had once housed the big desk which he often used to work from home has now been replaced by a wooden crib. It isn’t anything fancy, just an old second-hand crib which you thrifted from a nearby vintage store. It was the only thing that you could afford under a short period of time and while you were saving up some money to move out of the city. 
A move that would be costly now that there are the two of you instead of you alone. 
The cries soften immediately once you look down from above the crib, cooing softly at the sweet baby who is looking back at you with a pair of wide, teary eyes. Seeing his face makes you smile, even when uncertainty plagues you. You always wonder what kind of world he is seeing through his eyes. If he is just as terrified as you are for the future that lies ahead of you. 
“Why are you awake this late, baby?” you coo at your baby boy as you gently lift him up in your arms. He fusses a little in your hold, but the crying comes to a halt once you have him pressed against your heartbeat. “You can’t be hungry already. Were you scared because I wasn’t around when you woke up?”
As your baby makes his cute baby noises with his eyebrows furrowed as if he is complaining at your absence, you feel that same fear gripping at you from deep within. The fear that first started to manifest inside you the moment you saw those lines staring back at you from the home-kit pregnancy test. The fear that kept on growing while you were busy contemplating how you were ever going to give the news of your pregnancy to him before you left. It wasn’t your intention to keep this from him, yet there had been too many risks that you would have to face should the news of him having a baby outside of his marriage ever comes to light. 
In the end, you had decided to keep things to yourself. Because you couldn’t bear the thought of him losing the admiration that his little girl had for him, nor have you had the courage to face the condemnation that may follow once the presence of his illegitimate son is revealed. It took a lot of effort on your part, but you still managed. Hiding your pregnant belly for an entire nine months had been quite a feat, and it would have never been possible if not for the growing distance which allowed you to evade his perusing gaze while the baby was growing rapidly within you. 
If it had only been you who would have to face it, you would be willing to face the challenge of building a life with Namjoon with your head held high. But your son doesn’t deserve any of the pain. He doesn’t deserve being placed in the shadows and living the kind of life that you had with his father because he needs to remain a dirty little secret. And he doesn’t deserve feeling less than he should because his father had reserved that special place in his heart for someone else. When he had already promised his entire universe for her daughter. 
As you hold your sweet little child in your arms, you feel a new kind of resolve. Tomorrow, as you make your final exit from this place, along with your suitcases and everything else that are precious to your heart and your sweet baby boy in your arms like this, you will be sending that letter in the mail. 
Just like how he did it then before he left the city to be with her.
“Everything is going to be okay, baby. It’s going to be just you and me, but we’ll get through it, won’t we?” you whisper to your child who is now smiling at you, as if he knows that you are in dire need of his reassurance to get through everything. It feels painful still to look into his eyes, finding the gaze that seems so similar to his father’s that your breath gets caught each time, and the dimple that appears on his cheek which mirrors the one that you loved. You close your eyes and press your lips on your son’s forehead as you silently pray to the universe that you are choosing the right path this time. That everything will be okay once tomorrow comes. 
Tomorrow, you will say goodbye for the life that you have here. To all the memories that you have created with Namjoon, and the shadows of your past that are filled with his presence. 
It would be a terrifying thing to do. But this time, you are ready. Ready for a new life. A new start. Ready to find the love that you deserve to have. And you will be ready to write your own ending.
It won’t be perfect. It may never will be. But it will still be yours. 
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⤑ Author’s Note | This was quite a journey to have and it took me longer to finish than I actually thought it would. How did we ever got to this point with such a lengthy story, I really have no idea. This story was originally planned (or unplanned) to be Namjoon’s birthday fic, yet here we are now, a month later and I’m just releasing this one so late. I hope that this story can entertain you in a way, and that you enjoyed this little adventure that I’m sharing with you. Thank you for reading and for getting this far. Please kindly leave likes/kudos if you enjoyed the story, leave comments and questions if you have any, and any kind of feedback will be welcomed. Thank you again for reading!
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— © 2023 @yoonia (Tomoe Dia), all rights reserved. reposting/modifying of any kind, translations, and unsanctioned adaptations are not allowed. | First publication & writing on Oct 12th, 2023
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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
lo1k-diamonds · 2 months
Text
Unique 💜 (Part 1)
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PAIRING: idol!Namjoon/OC
SUMMARY: After overhearing something he shouldn't have, Namjoon promises to make it up to the bride by keeping her bridesmaid company during the rehearsal dinner party. What was supposed to be an unremarkable night became something so much more.
WORD COUNT: 20.9k
GENRE: strangers to lovers (bonus: Yoongi has a secret)
RATING: R (explicit)
WARNINGS: explicit, first meetings, light angst, Namjoon is a communication and consent king, protected sex, oral, fingering/handjob, toys, sapiosexuality, body worship, dirty talk, mouth riding, I think I can say switching (+ BTS being chaotic around RM and making him all embarrassed 😁)
(You can also read it on AO3, originally posted there in March 2023)
A.N. Part 1 stands as a one-shot so I'm going to post it here to complement all the snippets from Part 2. I just love this one bad and I'm not even sure I can do it justice in the sequel 😩
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Between what is said and not meant, and what is meant and not said, most of love is lost. ― Khalil Gibran
“When’s the last time you’ve seen her?”
Jimin’s voice echoed in the corridor as the other six men followed him.
“Before the tour, definitely,” Hoseok answered with a grin.
“Right?” Jimin asked, glancing at the others for confirmation.
“She didn’t even wait for us to have a bachelorette party,” Jin whined.
“Of course she couldn’t, she couldn’t wait until the eve of the wedding,” Taehyung scoffed.
“Why not?” Jungkook pouted with a raised eyebrow. They all stopped in front of the apartment door. “It’s what they do in the Hollywood movies, right?”
“She can’t attend her wedding with dark circles and a hangover,” Yoongi scoffed at their silliness. “That’s a Hollywood invention.”
“But she could have waited for us,” Jungkook pouted.
“And deal with BTS at her party?” Hoseok shook his head with a smile.
“Yeah, this is way better, guys,” Namjoon finally intervened. Jimin rang the doorbell. “This way we have a nice drink with her before the big party, and it will be just us remembering old times.”
“That’s right,” Hoseok agreed with a warm smile.
Jimin turned with a grin, “Maybe this is the time she’ll tell us all about the cream incident—”
“Uhhhh, won’t you look at the time—” Yoongi suddenly stammered, turning around with the intention to walk away.
Jungkook and Jin grabbed him, blocking him while everyone smirked. They teased him about it, but it was short-lived. The door opened and they all turned to greet the woman they wanted to meet.
“There’s our bride!”
“Our Hyejin is glowing!”
“Wow, you look so beautiful!”
“So pure and fresh!”
She giggled with a wide grin, pulling her long dark hair behind her shoulders. “I spent the day at the spa,” she boasted, stepping away for them to come in.
They complimented her complexion and radiance for a hot moment before she shooed them over to the living room.
“Wait there, I’ll be with you in a second.”
Namjoon was the last one in, and he stood around while the guys sat on the sofa and chairs in the dining room. Their chat was nice until they noticed Hyejin was taking way too long.
“I’ll go check on her,” Namjoon offered. He was already standing anyway.
“Bring alcohol,” Jimin asked playfully, making the others laugh.
Namjoon grinned and shook his head at their goofiness, but before he could enter the kitchen, he froze.
“We should finish our conversation,” a female voice said. What shocked him was not that he didn’t recognize it, but that it spoke in English.
“No, we should leave it for tomorrow. The friends I grew up with just arrived,” Hyejin’s tone was soft and hopeful. “I would like you to meet them.”
Whoever it was puffed, “I don’t speak Korean, you know that.”
“Angie—”
“Besides, don’t you think you should think about this before getting married?”
Hyejin released a deep impatient breath, “We shouldn’t speak of it right now—”
“It’s in English, they won’t understand anyway,” Angie dismissed dryly.
Hyejin was pressing her lips, “You’d be surprised. Actually—”
“Stop trying to dodge the issue.”
Namjoon took a deep quiet breath, he should probably announce himself before—
“I’m no one's reference in this, Hyejin,” Angie sighed. “But you should obviously find what works for you, not try to fit someone else’s ideal.”
“You say that, but you’re every guy’s ideal.” 
Namjoon’s eyebrows twitched; Hyejin sounded upset. He wondered what they were talking about.
Angie laughed bitterly, “That is so far from the truth!” Unbeknownst to Namjoon, she was shaking her head with a sour smile. “Sure, in theory, every guy wants a girlfriend that enjoys and wants to have sex, but none like it when she has a bigger libido than they do.”
Namjoon’s eyebrows skyrocketed.
“How big exactly are we talking?” Hyejin suddenly perked up. She was very persistent when she wanted to. “No, let’s put a number on it. How many times have you had sex in the last month?”
Angie snickered, “Exactly zero.” 
Hyejin was taken aback for a second, then she nodded, “Of course, you’re single.” 
Angie raised her eyebrows, “That’s not why though…”
“Alright, then how many times did you masturbate in the last month?”
“Month??” Angie’s brown eyes were wide. “How am I supposed to count? Ahm, I guess…”
Namjoon was blushing, he rubbed his face to hide the embarrassment. He shouldn’t be eavesdropping, but he wasn’t moving. 
“Forget it then. What about… in the last twenty-four hours?”
“Three.”
Namjoon raised his head, that was a fast answer.
“Three?!”
Angie rolled her eyes.
“Oh my god, just go and have sex,” Hyejin smirked. “Let’s go out, I'll be your wing woman.”
“It’s not about that,” Angie’s voice was strained. “What I truly crave is intimacy. That’s why once is not enough, the orgasms feel thin as if something is missing. And to have sex, well… You know me, I need to trust the guy, to be able to have a conversation…”
“You’re too picky,” Hyejin had a playful tone.
“And here I was thinking I wanted the bare minimum…”
Hyejin laughed and suddenly gasped. She had crossed the kitchen’s archway to find Namjoon just standing there, out of sight, with his back against the wall. His eyes widened at being caught, his cheeks were red as tomatoes and he opened his mouth to surely stutter an apology.
“I’m going to bed,” the voice from the kitchen said, and Hyejin turned back to look at her best friend.
She glanced at Namjoon for a split second then smiled, “You know I got your back, right?”
Angie smiled, “Of course, and I got yours. You’re right, let’s talk better tomorrow,” she rubbed her face and pulled her sandy-colored hair back. “I’m too tired. At what time for brunch tomorrow?”
“Eleven,” Hyejin smiled after giving Namjoon a stink eye so he would stay where he was.
He was closing his eyes with his lips between his teeth, cursing his stupid curiosity. Hyejin was going to kill him.
“Perfect, I need to sleep my jetlag off. It’s the only hope I have to look like a human being tomorrow.”
Hyejin chuckled at Angie’s playfulness and waved her goodbye. Angie left through the opposite archway to reach the corridor that led to the bedrooms.
Then Hyejin turned to the red elephant in her dining room with a harsh look.
“I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to eavesdrop—”
“I can trust that that conversation will—”
“I’ll take it with me to my grave.”
“And the other guys?”
“Won't ever know about it.”
Hyejin released a deep breath, then eyed Namjoon from head to toe. The instant she saw him she cursed her luck that the only BTS member who was fluent in English was the one who happened to overhear their conversation. But now… maybe that was actually a blessing in disguise.
“Do you really regret it?” She asked with a cocked eyebrow.
“Yes, of course!” He sounded pleading. “I should have never—”
“Namjoon! Oh—” Jin stumbled on them in surprise, “What is taking you so long?”
Namjoon opened his mouth, not sure of what to say, but Hyejin answered first, “He’s helping me with drinks. Soju?”
“And beer!” Jungkook yelled from the living room.
Jin grinned at the maknae’s request, then turned back to the two of them. “I’ll help—”
“No, Jin oppa, it’s okay,” Hyejin smiled. “I was talking with Joonie…”
Jin’s eyebrows raised, “Well, and I can’t hear it?”
“It’s important,” her tone was sweet as she pouted, and Jin sighed.
“Fine, I’ll leave you two be.”
Jin shrugged and left them, telling the others they’d bring drinks soon. Namjoon and Hyejin were close, it wasn’t weird that she wanted to speak with him alone.
She turned to Namjoon, “Make it up to me. To us.”
He frowned slightly, but then nodded, “Sure. What can I do?”
Hyejin licked her lips but then decided. “I would like it if you could be with Angie at the rehearsal tomorrow night and at the wedding.”
“Be with her?” He repeated, confused.
“Yes. Well, you speak English fluently and I don’t want her to be left alone and uncomfortable.” Hyejin released a deep breath, “I know it’s a lot to ask, but I can’t think of anyone else. Truth is I was going to ask you about it tonight anyway.”
“It’s not a lot to ask…” He answered, scratching his chin. “I’m more concerned about the tabloids.”
“It’s my wedding, Joon. No freaking tabloids or media,” her voice was harsh and he immediately regretted mentioning it. He knew how sensitive she was on the subject. “Plus you don’t have to be with her only, stay with the guys too. Just don’t leave her alone.”
He nodded with a small smile, “I can do that, don’t worry.”
She smiled happily with one less worry. “Consider it your wedding gift,” she playfully said, waving at him to follow her into the kitchen. They did need to get drinks.
Namjoon laughed, “No way, we already arranged something else.” His cute dimples were showing and she felt reassured. “Just don’t stress about it.”
She started getting the bottles and cans out of the fridge and putting them on the counter when she suddenly remembered. “Also… I’ll just say it to be sure. Don’t leave her alone with my brother. He has always had a thing for her and I’m afraid of how it could escalate.”
Namjoon’s eyebrows jumped up and a couple of thoughts ran through his mind. A look at Hyejin told him she could read him like an open book, and before he could apologize, Hyejin smacked him.
“Just because she has a big libido, it does not mean she’ll sleep with anyone,” she pointed out with frustration. “My brother included. He’s just a playboy and he’s married. Do not let him get near her, do you understand? He’ll harass her and I don’t want fights at my wedding.”
Namjoon, feeling deeply regretful again for his callous thoughts, just nodded and promised to be good company for Angie over the weekend.
He just didn’t know how to do it. He had never met her, not even seen her. He hoped he would get a glimpse of her before leaving, but throughout the night it was just them and Hyejin. 
He kept playing the words she said in his mind, and he wondered what kind of person she was. She was definitely the type to be good friends with Hyejin, otherwise, she wouldn't be staying at her house or have her request that favor of him. 
His mind was already contemplating how he should approach her: should he apologize, should he give her some advice, should he be her wingman, should he just play it cool? He kept wondering about all those things and by the time he entered the rehearsal dining hall with the rest of BTS the next night, he hadn’t made up his mind.
Hyejin was at the entrance with her fiancé, whom BTS knew well, and they greeted each other.
"So about that track—"
"No work talk at my party please," Hyejin interrupted quickly, making her fiancé smirk and step back from Yoongi.
"Yes, dear."
Namjoon got close to her and hugged her, "You look so beautiful."
She hugged him back closely, and he knew she was nervous and overwhelmed.
"You'll do what I asked you?" She asked with a hint of anxiety in her smile.
"Of course," he assured her with warmth, rubbing her arms once soothingly.
She nodded, "Thank you. She'll be here soon. Just be yourself."
He chuckled and scratched his neck, "About that…"
But he didn't get the chance to ask, as other people arriving pushed them in after a rushed photo with the bride and groom.
From then on it was a mess for a while. Lots of people he knew approached him and the others for a chat, and he couldn’t say no but he wasn't there to talk about work or pamper them. It was a celebration and he had made a promise, he couldn’t disappoint Hyejin and stress her even more.
The guys ended up splitting between the dancefloor, the bar, and their dining table. He ended up grabbing his whiskey and going to his spot on the table by himself. He sat down and sighed; parties were not his thing, and he got tired quickly.
He placed his glass down and then noticed the names on the cards next to him: on one side, Jin, on the other Angie Wagner. He blinked and leaned closer to see it. She'd sit next to him?
"So," a female voice he recognized sounded from behind him and made him turn. "On a scale of one to ten, how much did you understand the conversation last night?"
She pulled the chair to sit down next to him and he just stared. She was sitting in Angie’s spot, and he recognized her voice, so… Angie?
She was wearing a light lilac string dress that fell all the way to the floor. Her sandy blonde hair was braided in a hairdo, letting a few strands fall around her face and neck. Her eyes were brown and shiny, they looked incredibly astute and he suddenly had the feeling he would not be able to hide anything from her.
She raised her thin eyebrows quizzically and he stammered, “I— Well—” For a second he considered pretending he had no idea what she was talking about, but then he gave up on it. “I believe most of it.”
She nodded, “Meaning all of it.”
He pressed his lips and looked down in clear regret, “How did you know?”
“Hyejin can’t lie to save her life. It was obvious she was looking at someone, despite her attempts to deny it.” Angie sighed, looking around at the card names on the table. “And I heard you speaking in English before.”
She waved back at the bar, and he nodded while pressing his lips in nervousness. He guessed she could connect the dots.
“So are you thinking I’m just a promiscuous Western woman or can I still save some face?”
His cheeks were becoming pink, but he chuckled, “I don’t think being Western has anything to do with it. You’re just freer to talk about it in Western countries, which I find a healthy thing." He looked at her, who was just attentively listening to him. Hyejin told him to be himself so he'd risk it. It was only fair after having learned such intimate secrets. “You’d find equally promiscuous women here, they probably just hide it more.”
She pursed her lips, intrigued by his words, but they were interrupted by a waiter with champagne flutes. She took one with a small head bow.
“Besides, if I understood correctly, you’re not that promiscuous.” He pressed his lips, was he really going to talk about this? “Something about having standards…”
She laughed and his dimples appeared. He was flustered and hot, but it was pleasing to speak with someone so earnestly.
“So you did understand everything!” She didn't look mad, she was grinning and sounded playful. “Can you tell that to Hyejin, though? I have a feeling she wants to ‘help me’ somehow when she doesn’t seem to understand the situation.”
His eyebrows puckered, “How does she plan on helping?”
“Something about a guy babysitting me tonight,” she shrugged. “I’m sure she means well, but it’s not how these things work. Although I must admit I’d be bored out of my mind if you weren’t here.”
“How so?” He laughed to take away from his embarrassment, realizing immediately he was the 'babysitter'. He didn’t know how to feel about it.
“Well, I wanted to make sure you’d keep that conversation private and now I’m pleasantly surprised that not only are you fluent in English, but you can actually have a conversation. I don’t see a way to be bored now.” He nodded with his warm cheeks marked by his dimples. “And with a bit of luck, I can escape the so-called babysitter. I'm not sure I trust Hyejin's taste in men to meet my standards.”
He tried laughing but it came out dry. Did he understand it right? Hyejin had implied to Angie that they'd… and she didn't trust Hyejin to choose someone, but it was him so—
“Do you want some tiramisu?” She interrupted his thoughts after downing her champagne. He looked at her, confused, and she pointed at the walking dinner on the tables at the other end of the room. “I’m starving.”
He nodded and went with her, grabbing not only tiramisu but also other small bites. He made a judgment call then to keep his mouth shut about being the person Hyejin had chosen to 'babysit' her. That way Angie wouldn't feel imposed on and they could keep chatting amicably.
They went back to the table with their food and continued chatting. Some of the BTS members noticed this.
“Wow, Joon made a friend,” Taehyung pointed out from the dancefloor in surprise.
Jimin turned and gasped dramatically, “Really?! Let’s go meet her—”
Hoseok stopped them both by getting in their way. “Oh no, you don’t. Let him be.”
“But he made a friend, I want to know her too,” Taehyung pouted playfully.
“Guys, he’s talking to a girl,” Hoseok repeated, playing with his eyebrows.
“He talks with girls all the time,” Taehyung pointed out, confused.
“Ohhhh, I see what you mean,” Jimin smirked with a nod.
“What?”
“It’s a wedding weekend, people do crazy things,” Hoseok smiled intently at Taehyung.
“So? Are you implying that our Joonie will sleep with that girl?”
“Joonie will sleep with a girl?!” Jungkook’s shocked gasp came from behind Taehyung and Jimin quickly hushed him.
“Shh, we don’t know that,” he told him, making Jungkook truly puzzled. Why was Jimin shushing him, the music was so loud!
“But he’s so shy, there’s no way—”
“Let’s give him the opportunity,” Hoseok interrupted Taehyung.
“It won’t hurt,” Jimin pointed out.
Jungkook pouted his lips, “It will if she hurts him.”
The other three men shook their heads with a smile. “He’s old enough, let him decide that for himself,” Hoseok pointed out, and the other three agreed.
Namjoon was truly intrigued to be talking with Angie about women's emancipation and the feminine movement. It was a topic he had sought to educate himself about but that he rarely got to talk about. He was interested in learning the perspective of a woman, or should he say a Western woman.
“The thing is that it’s not because I believe in equality that I don’t like things like chivalry or an actual man,” she pointed out with a short deep breath that contained her frustration. “In what dating is concerned, I would like a partner that doesn’t fall into extremes and I feel that’s happening more and more.”
“What kind of extremes?”
“Like the woman is always right and can do no wrong, or women are bitches that don’t accept men for who they are. I’ve seen both, I hate both,” she pointed out cleanly, then shrugged. 
“That really happens?” He asked, surprised while they ate.
“Oh yeah. You try to date for a few months and it just becomes insufferable,” she chuckled, but he could see there was an inch of bitterness. “I truly just want a partner, an equal partner. I believe this to be a good standard, but then none of my friends understand why it’s so hard.”
He nodded, he sort of understood her. He didn’t hope to find someone who could stand by his side easily, and he wasn’t eager to put anyone through that, but if he could choose, he’d prefer to have someone by his side, not beneath or above.
“Like my friends say I expect too much, that I should just date a genius from work.” Her tone was despairing yet scornful. “And it’s precisely why I’ll never ever date any of them. I mean, I know I’m smarter than most, but I don’t want a genius by my side. I don't consider myself a genius, despite popular belief.”
He was looking at her with wide and intrigued eyes. He opened his mouth, then backtracked — there was so much information to unpack there he wasn’t sure about what to ask first.
“Look and behold, Mr. Namjoon,” she opened her arms with a cocky smile as if presenting herself. “You’re talking with the youngest professor of Quantum Physics at MIT.”
His jaw dropped and his eyes widened even more, “Really? Wow!”
She chuckled, closing her arms again and finally reaching for the tiramisu. “I know, I get that a lot. I'm surrounded by people who are pure geniuses in every sense of the word but lack everything else required for socialization. And me being a woman in the middle of men should sound fun, but it really isn’t.” She sighed, with a spoon of dessert in her mouth. She didn’t look very happy. “Everyone thinks I'm at a buffet, when in reality I wish I could go to a Michelin-star restaurant and have that one gourmet meal.”
She was expecting him to laugh at her analogy, but he nodded with a small smile that overflowed with sympathy.
“I get you… I sometimes feel like the Michelin-star meal, only I’m behind a glass and I can’t interact with anyone.”
She raised an eyebrow, “You consider yourself a Michelin-star meal?”
Her tone was playful but he choked on his spit, blushing a strong shade of red. “That’s a way of speaking,” he tried saying through coughs.
She giggled and tapped his back soothingly, “I’m messing with you.” She waited for him to calm down before taking a deep breath, “That must suck balls.”
He laughed, a bit more relaxed. “It does, and it doesn’t. I know I inspire a lot of people, as they inspire me. That’s why I… you know, Michelin meal—” She was looking at him with a mocking smile, so he coughed to clear his throat. “Anyway. It’s lonely.”
“What do you do?” She asked, cleaning her tiramisu cup with her spoon.
His eyebrows twitched for a second. She didn’t know? She was friends with Hyejin and she didn’t know? Should he not tell her? But she surely knew who he was to Hyejin, so should he tell her?
He licked his lips. Be yourself.
“I’m a music producer.”
She whistled, “Like Hyejin’s fiancé, then?” He nodded. “Right, you must work with her father. I keep forgetting that she comes from a music background.” She laughed to herself. “But anyway, lonely? How can that be?” Her pitch was high again and playful. “I imagine you have at least one girl every day trying to make a move on you to fall in your good graces and get that record deal.”
He laughed awkwardly, “I don’t and I would hate it if I did.”
“Because you’re not into women?”
“Because I’m shy,” he answered quickly and seriously, looking into her eyes. 
Her features slowly lost their teasing glim and sobered. “I wonder about that… you’re talking pretty okay with me.”
He nodded, “There are… reasons for that.”
“Such as?”
“You’re Hyejin’s friend and you don’t want a music deal.”
She laughed giddily, “How do you know? Maybe this is just us scheming or something.”
He couldn’t help the smirk on his lips, “She could get you something just as easily as I could.”
Angie hummed playfully and leaned into him, and he didn’t move away. “But maybe I'd prefer to be associated with the genius Kim Namjoon?”
He held her eyes with a raised eyebrow. He felt hot and proud at her words, which was unusual for him. Normally, he’d be the first to say he wasn’t that big of a deal, he wasn’t that great. He was truly nobody. As the seconds ticked, this truth came to light in his mind. He had to be truthful with her.
“I’m really not that great.” She tilted her head with a smile of who wonders about that. “I’m just a poet,” he added. He tried ignoring the burn on his cheeks, why was that happening? Maybe even that was untrue? “I… I just appreciate art. In all its forms. And try to do something with my thoughts. That’s it.”
He quickly reached for a sip of his whiskey, and then took a deep breath. He felt like he was stammering or vomiting his thoughts without reflection, what the hell was he doing? Why was he oscillating between being relaxed and so freaking nervous?
She smiled warmly, “I’m just teasing you.” She straightened herself and he felt weirdly upset at being able to breathe freely again. “So art. What’s your favorite kind of art? Excluding poetry and music?”
“It’s very difficult to choose,” he confessed. He looked at the table for a moment of absolute focus before answering. “I feel like right after hearing, my eyes are the next sense I rely on. So I’m inclined to say anything visual. Anything that invokes things in me that reflect deep thoughts.”
“Interesting,” she said, creasing her forehead a bit. “Would you say it helps with your music?”
“It definitely does,” he agreed instantaneously. “It has helped me a lot to see my struggles reflected and shaped by the hands of so many artists. To see it given color or texture through other means than sounds, or words.” He smiled, “I could never do it, but I recognize it because our struggle is the same, it’s human. It’s very freeing in a way.”
Angie smiled softly. She was now totally focused on the man in front of her, sitting turned to him and supporting her head on her hand.
“I wish I knew more about art,” she confessed. His eyes locked with hers for a moment before he looked away with a smile. He was shy, she could see that. But he was also very intriguing, definitely the best kind of surprise that night or trip could offer her. She wondered if he understood what she meant to imply with her words.
“It’s an infinite subject. Even I am still learning about it after years of interest,” his smile was kind. He licked his lips and looked at her again, “I could show you a few things.”
Her lips curved immediately, “I’d like that.”
And he pressed his, looking away again. “I went to Europe once to do a tour around many museums.” He turned to her with a smile, “I was in Switzerland for a few days and visited so many exhibitions, then Paris too. I can show you pictures if you’d like.”
She smiled, “That sounds nice. I would have loved to see it myself.”
He sighed, “Yeah. I couldn’t see everything I wanted, I didn’t have the time. I wish I could just go and spend a month or two there, really take in the places. The cultures, they’re so close to each other, but they’re so different. I hiked Mount Rigi last time, but there’s still so much to see in the Swiss Alps, and also in other countries.” 
He was so invested in sharing his thoughts his eyes were shining. They were close now and he didn’t mind, quite the opposite. He was normally quiet with his entourage about such things, but with her, he felt accepted. She wasn’t scorning or being derisive, she was drinking his words out of interest for new things.
“You should go and do it. Take time off, pause, and do what you truly want to do.” Her tone was serious. “Life is short. Everyone always told me I’d have to fight tooth and nail to get somewhere, and that I’d get there in my old age. Well, I’m nearly thirty and I feel like I’ve reached that place already. And it sucks,” she shrugged in sorrow, reaching for her drink. “It should feel fulfilling, but it’s empty. I look behind me and see what I’ve missed, what I sacrificed. I realize I’ve won the race, but there’s really nothing to celebrate. And for as much as I may have gained, I became fearful of heights. Because now that everyone knows my potential, everyone would be disappointed if I didn’t meet the quota for just one day. And then… the real loneliness would start.”
A hint of sorrow passed through her features quickly before she downed another champagne flute, and he just nodded solemnly.
“There must be something to celebrate. Though… the responsibilities… they follow us,” he said quietly. “Even if I wanted to pause and go, it’s just not possible.”
“I’m telling you it has to be, Namjoon.” Her eyes were shining, but she didn’t hide them away. “There has to be more to life than grinding, burning out, and chasing the idea of success.” She put her glass down, “I keep convincing myself that this is what I wanted, that it was an opportunity all along, that I’m doing something great with myself, but am I?” She seemed to contain her tears of frustration. “I mean sure, there is an importance to what I’m doing. to what we’re doing. I’m teaching and shaping young minds, and I’m involved in projects that will advance our technology and understanding of the universe significantly. You’re doing music people love and inspiring them, like you said. Surely, all of it has meaning. But then why do I feel spent?”
She looked away with an anxious breath and her eyes fell on Hyejin laughing at the entrance of the party. That was what happiness looked like.
Her eyes turned back at him and his serious expression. She chuckled, “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t be bothering you with my existential conundrums.”
“Not at all, I feel like… we’re different, but similar in many ways.”
She looked at him and they stayed in silence for a moment. The party and music were developing all around them while they found some sort of empathy in each other’s existence.
“Maybe,” she acceded, with softening eyes. Her lips curved gently, “It’s not every day I get to talk about this.”
He was going to ask why but he never did.
“Ahh!” A yell sounded from behind them that had them both turn. The beautiful and glowing Hyejin placed her hands on their shoulders with a smile that could rival the sun. “I’m so happy you found each other!” Namjoon smiled politely, but Angie was furrowing her brow quizzically. Hyejin squeezed her shoulder, “See, I told you you would like him.”
“What do you mean?”
Namjoon opened his mouth, but Hyejin spoke first. “Well, I know you didn’t want a ‘babysitter’, but I chose the best as your company.”
Angie’s eyebrows jumped as her features changed just a little. She smiled with a hint of bitterness, “Indeed.”
Angie cursed herself mentally as she tried not to give her thoughts away. She should have figured the ‘babysitter’ would be the same guy who eavesdropped, though she had thought more than one of her friends would speak English fluently, hence they could have been different people. Honestly, she just wanted to make sure he’d stay quiet about what he heard, but maybe the fact that he was cute and interesting clouded her judgment. Maybe she did have unattainable standards, she didn’t seem to be that bright herself if she was going to let something so simple happen right under her nose.
Her eyes shifted from Hyejin when she was called away to Namjoon, who was looking worried. That was guilt, wasn’t it? He knew about it, he just played dumb. He could have told her he was the guy Hyejin wanted her to meet, but he decided not to probably because he wasn’t interested and didn’t want to embarrass her. Well. She still was.
“I’ll be back in a minute,” Hyejin smiled, seeing she couldn’t avoid whatever problem was calling for her.
As soon as she left, Angie dragged her chair back as Namjoon spoke. “I can explain.”
“A bit too late for that,” her voice was stoic as she got up. “If you’ll excuse me.”
She turned to leave without a second thought. That was freaking embarrassing, and utterly disappointing. Maybe she got too tipsy and confident? Maybe. Either way, she never had to speak with him again, so—
“Wait.”
She glanced at him, surprised he had followed her out of the party to the elevator lobby of the hotel, but she didn’t stop. She pressed the button to call the elevator.
And he stopped next to her, “Wait.” He swallowed, and she finally glanced at him. She was showing no emotions on her face and it twisted his stomach even more. “I didn’t know what to say. The way you spoke of it made me feel like it was something bad.”
“Bad?” She knew she wasn’t tipsy, she just had to respond to such a silly idea. “I told you I would never be bored with you, how is that bad?”
“It isn’t.”
“Then why not tell me?”
“I didn’t want to pressure you. That’s why I chose to be the other guy. I wanted to be the guy you chose to come and find and chat with, not the one Hyejin asked to babysit you and that you didn’t want to meet.”
She stepped inside the elevator, pressed floor seven, and then looked at him. She looked confused and hurt and he just stood there waiting for her to say something.
“I guess you’re neither now.”
The elevator doors started closing and he felt a rush. Time slowed, he had a decision to make. He never got to be with someone who understood him. He was always afraid of the backstabbing and image issues, everyone was watching, and it was too risky to do anything. Everything relating to dating had been relegated to the last spot on his priority list, the furthest corner of his mind and heart. But right there he could reach for something that resembled what he always wished he could experience.
So he stepped inside at the last second, squeezing through the doors. Her eyebrows jumped in surprise.
“But I could be both,” he finally said.
The elevator started moving and she raised a skeptical eyebrow. He tried not to feel disheartened. For the first time, she was looking incredibly cold and unapproachable, and it saddened him.
“Explain.”
Despite her detached tone, he felt alive. “I could be the guy you came to find and that stuck around you because you’re interesting and captivating.”
Her lips twitched in skepticism, “You don’t have to work that hard, Mr. Kim Namjoon. I know Hyejin told you to look after me, but I’m going to my room where I’ll be perfectly safe by myself.”
He didn’t hesitate. “I’m speaking the truth.” 
“Are you? You haven’t exactly been the most truthful.”
He pressed his lips and looked down — that hit him. Hyejin had told him to be himself and lying was not something he ever did. Being dishonest was not like him, and it felt off. 
Angie exited the elevator without another word and Namjoon followed her all the way until she reached for a card to unlock her room door.
“Then let me,” he asked. She entered her room. “Let me be truthful.”
She stopped and turned to him. She was holding the doorknob in her hand and the doorway was the line separating them. She considered his words for a moment, then nodded. It couldn’t hurt to hear him out, she already felt humiliated as it was.
“I’m not just a producer,” he said, and she frowned very lightly. He was sure then she truly didn’t know who he was. “I’m an idol. Do you know what that is?”
“People that sing and dance and are idolized by teenagers?” She seemed confused.
He grimaced, “You get the gist.” He sighed, “We are very well known, so our lives are scrutinized and it gets lonely.”
She shifted the weight on her legs, “So that’s why you’re here? Because you’re lonely?”
He let out a tense breath. “I’m here because you are enticing. Your words, your mind. You’re so captivating I could just talk to you all night to learn your ideas about everything the world has to offer.”
“You want to chat?”
He opened his mouth, unsure about what to say. She removed her high heels and threw them inside, then heaved a deep breath.
“I don’t know what to think of you right now.” She admitted, then shrugged. “I figured you didn’t say anything because you didn’t want to give me the impression you were interested in that way, and that’s fine. But then why follow me here?” He became flustered, and she just shook her head. “You’re worried about me complaining to Hyejin? I won’t. Are you feeling guilty? You’re forgiven. Let’s just forget about all of this—”
“That’s not it,” he managed to get out.
“Then what is it?”
He opened his mouth and fought his words multiple times until he just let go. “I don’t want it to end.”
“What?”
“Our talk. Our interaction. You said you didn’t get to talk about these things, well, I don’t either. And it’s so much more interesting because you’re not a musician or an artist, and yet we feel things in the same way,” he closed his fist as if he could grab the moment, then threw it down. Was he conveying the message properly? “What I mean is that there’s a potential for a unique connection, for a unique moment. I want to seize it, just like I want to go to Europe and hike the Swiss Alps. Like you said I should. Just pause and do what I really want to do.”
She observed him in silence for a moment as she went over what he said.
“But why didn’t you tell me before? You could have just said it.”
His cheeks warmed up, “You seemed to imply that Hyejin chose someone to… to sleep with you. I didn’t want to scare you away, so I thought it would be best not to mention it.”
Her eyebrows puckered in confusion, “But whatever reason Hyejin uses to choose you has nothing to do with you, you could have still just said it.”
He smiled and rubbed his face, he was embarrassed but sort of happy. “You’re right, I should have.”
She wasn’t smiling. “All of this just because you don’t want to sleep with someone; just say it next time and avoid the trouble.”
“What?”
“You heard me,” she groaned mutely. “Now if you’ll excuse me—”
“No, that’s not it.”
She raised an impatient eyebrow, “I got it wrong again?”
“Yes,” he said confidently, which intrigued her.
“Explain it to me then.”
“I never said I didn’t want to sleep with you.” He didn’t know where he got the courage to say those words, but maybe it was because he didn’t want any more misunderstandings. Her eyebrows jumped. “I said I didn’t want to pressure you, I said I didn’t want our talk to end, I said I followed you because you’re enticing. I said I didn’t want to scare you away. I didn’t want you to think anything we were doing was coming from a place of 'she's just promiscuous and we'll sleep together anyway'.”
Her lips twitched as she tried to deduce something. “Then…”
“I wanted it to just be genuine,” he shrugged. “If you were interested and I was interested, then cool.”
“Are you interested?”
He smiled despite looking at the floor, “I followed you all the way here, didn’t I?”
She blinked as her features morphed into surprise and realization. “You did.”
He gave her a moment before asking, “Are you? Interested?”
She finished her line of thought in which she decided she no longer had reasons to feel embarrassed. His lie had come from a good place, and although she disliked feeling deceived, she was willing to forgive him.
“I am.”
They stared at each other with a lighter atmosphere. He felt warm and sort of happy, but he didn't want to push anything. He was happy they sorted things out. It didn’t feel awkward or anything, he just didn’t feel any need to rush it.
“That’s… that’s good,” he smiled. “Then, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow.”
“You’re not coming in?” She asked almost in surprise. He was confused and she turned around to enter the room. “Only if you want to, of course.”
She dropped her handbag on a chair and turned to see him still in the same place. He had his hands on the doorframe as if stopping himself, and she just raised her eyebrows. He looked down, but dropped his hands and entered the room, closing the door softly behind him.
She smiled, “I’d offer you a drink,” she opened the mini-fridge. “But I don’t want us to get drunk.”
He was smiling too, he felt lightheaded. “That’s okay.”
“How about a coke?”
“Sounds good,” he agreed, accepting it from her.
She also opened a can and sat on the bed with her legs bent by her knees. 
"Didn't you have something to show me?" She asked, then took a sip. He just stared at her. "Photos of your trip?"
"Right!"
He pulled his phone out of his slack pocket and sat next to her. She leaned in to check his phone, but her eyes quickly moved to what risked captivating her more than any work of art he could show her. That tight dark blue suit made his shoulders look broad and firm. He was taller than her, even in heels, and he looked pristine and lean under all that haute couture. She could of course appreciate a man that could talk well and look good, but to find a devoted artist and poet under all that was… like straight out of movies or novels. 
She nodded and listened to his explanations about the art pieces and exhibitions attentively. He was light and free when speaking of such things, and she could not see an idol or famous person. He was too real, too grounded, too connected with his inner self to appear shallow and superficial. She didn’t have enough of that in her life, she was always with people who were analytical, cynical, and skeptical, much like she was. That fresh outlook on life, on a human’s soul, on feeling was so touching she wanted to interact with him just to know what it was like.
He was explaining this painting of a fallen angel and the catharsis and redemption themes in it when she got up from bed to put their empty cans away.
“What do they say? To be able to fly you have to learn how to fall?”
He eyed her from head to toe, with her back turned to him, and nodded quietly. He never thought a physics genius could be so empathetic and understanding. She had a caring soul that transpired in every single comment, even when she was rational about the themes he was trying to explain. He felt like she could be an anchor, a defined line around his countless smudges of color. He should feel contained, maybe underestimated, but instead, he felt elevated. He felt like they were mutually showing the other how they perceived life, and it was incredibly unique. He knew that could happen after a few minutes with her, but now after maybe more than one hour, he was completely certain.
“It’s getting late,” she commented and he nodded, putting his phone down.
“You’re right, we need to get some sleep for the actual wedding tomorrow,” he got up with a gentle smile.
“Would you help me with my hair?” She asked, then turned around. “They put so many pins in, could you take them off?”
“Sure,” he immediately acquiesced, throwing his phone on the bed and nearing her. But then he pressed his lips, eying the braided hairdo. “I’m afraid I might hurt you.”
“You won't, don’t worry about it. You should be able to see them pretty well.”
He was still eying her hair nervously, but it was true he could see the black hairpins among her blonde threads. So he risked it and reached for the first one very slowly. He gained more confidence as time passed and they had a few giggles when a few proved too stubborn to come out on the first try. 
Then suddenly her braid fell over her back and his smile dropped. He was incredibly close to her, he could smell her orchid perfume perfectly. Her skin looked smooth and delicate, the line of her neck was a feminine invitation. Her hair was beautiful and soft and now he didn’t have an excuse to touch it anymore.
She pulled her braid over her shoulder to open it and pass her fingers through it quickly. She glanced over her shoulder at him, “Thank you.”
“Anytime.”
Their voices were both low and warm as they eyed each other. She was wondering what she could do to give him a hint, whereas he was fighting his urges. He shouldn’t go too fast and she hadn’t expressed clear consent, so—
She suddenly grimaced and pressed her neck, and he spoke without thinking, “Are you tense?”
She nodded but immediately closed her eyes, her senses overcharged. His fingers were pressing and gently massaging her tired muscles, first on her neck, then her shoulders and spine. Her lips parted in absolute satisfaction at his dexterous hands, could he get any better?
Eventually, his fingers slowed in rhythm and stopped and she turned her head to the side, “Don’t stop.”
Her tone was low and pleading and he looked at her profile with his hands still on her delicate shoulders. She was truly beautiful, like a nymph out of a painting from the masters. He was inevitably attracted by her elegant curves, her dainty lines echoing everything in him from desire to devotion. He felt like any of those foolish men who would wish to lose themselves in the purity and nurturing embrace of such an ethereal creature, and he had to take a deep breath to catch himself.
She turned around and their foreheads connected as he swallowed. He was heartily eager to have her despite knowing that he could lose himself and disappear, just like Hylas once had in that ancient myth.
She touched his jaw gently and leaned in slowly, and he let her. Their lips touched and brushed briefly, and his breath hitched. He was immediately curious and chased her lips so he could feel her better. Her kiss was just as delicate as her and he was filled with this want to discover more, to know more, to partake, to dive in.
His hands were supporting her neck and jaw when she pulled away just enough to speak. “Are you comfortable continuing this?”
He almost chuckled; he was sensible enough to just smile, “Yes.” His tone was sure. “Are you?”
Her hands moved over his shoulders, “Oh yes. Yes.”
She leaned to capture his lips again and he smiled through their kiss, so incredibly happy that he would have the opportunity to touch her, to kiss her. 
He of course wanted more than that and as their kiss built up, he started losing his grip. Their kisses were sloppy as their tongues played, his body was spiking with heat at her hands exploring his chest and pulling his blazer off to firmly squeeze his shoulders. His hands which had been respectfully on her waist became curious and decided to palm her curves. Those sensual curves that the dress failed to express vividly enough, thankfully. 
She reached for his belt and he swallowed, trying to catch his breath as she kissed his cheek. That was happening, he thought. He looked at her, whose brown eyes were shining with desire while she breathed heavily. He had one second to decide before—
Her hand entered his pants and he closed his eyes, feeling her explore his erection. She was observing his reaction; she found the right angle and pulled his hard-on out. He was utterly absorbed in the sensation of her gripping him firmly and she wondered for a split second if it was genuine. He looked like a thirsty man who had just found an oasis, and she would think this odd if he was a famous idol that millions of people desired.
His hands pushed her to sit on the bed gently. He kneeled on the bed by her side and she eyed him. That man was the reincarnation of Adonis, there was no doubt in her mind about it.
“Can I touch you?”
Her features softened, “You have to touch me.”
His hands grabbed her lilac dress that covered her legs and pulled it up anxiously. She helped him do it all the way to her waist before she leaned back with him half over her. He reached her lips as his hands traced her legs, and the higher he went the more she started losing grip. Still, before he could touch her, she reached for his erection again to pump him gently. He grunted quietly and she smiled slyly, incredibly proud that she could make him sound like that.
Quickly a sigh was escaping her lips when his fingers reached her center over her panties. There was no doubt in her mind that he’d be able to get that and more out of her.
“You’re so warm,” he whispered against her lips, descending then to her neck. 
Her hand on his erection was making it hard to process, but his fingers quickly pulled her panties aside to feel her and damn. She was so wet and ready that his cock twitched. She moaned quietly with his touch exploring her folds and core, and he felt it in her neck as he kissed it. She would surely make the most beautiful music for him if he played her correctly, and he intended to.
His fingers reached her clit to rub it gently and she gasped, completely frozen by it. He pulled away enough to observe her expression with agape lips, squinted eyes, and knitted eyebrows.
“Like that?” He asked, his voice tense.
She looked up at him, an expression of pleasure so sensual he had a hard time thinking. 
“Yeah,” she sighed and restarted moving her hand. 
His fingers were too fucking good, or maybe she was just that turned on. Her core was clenching around nothing despite the simple gesture of his digits, but she knew it was more than that. He was an attractive and attentive man observing her through desirous but respectful eyes. Like she was worthy of his praise, attention, and care, and that adoration was really spiking it up for her.
So she tried making it last by focusing on her hand on his erection. It had been a while since she had last done that, but what mattered was reading his cues. He preferred a firm grip instead of light, he preferred the tip instead of broad all-encompassing movements, and he preferred slower and intense movements rather than fast and light. Soon he grunted and she smiled yet again.
“That feels very good,” he managed to get out with closed eyes.
“I’m glad,” she whispered.
They had reached a balance and they could see it in each other’s eyes. So when her lips curved in a playful smile, so did his.
Then he grunted mutely at the view of his hand between her legs. He was imagining what she would feel like, but there was nothing better than finding out. His fingers slipped in and she moaned.
“You’re so tight and warm,” his voice strained at the thought of replacing his fingers with his twitching cock.
She was pulsating around his fingers, “Imagine how comfortable you’d be… inside me.”
He looked at her, and she was already eying him back. Her expression tensed when he reached his thumb over her clit, her jaw clenched. She couldn’t find it in herself to be annoyed, every single touch of his felt better than the one before and she would melt for him every time he would like her too. 
Suddenly he looked down at her hand on his dick with thin lips. “Do we have condoms?”
She tried thinking rationally for a second, then cursed under her breath. “I don’t.”
She felt irritation spring from deep inside her chest, that was very stupid of her. She couldn’t have known she would meet someone interesting and get involved with him, but fuck should she be better prepared just in case she did.
She took a deep breath, “Don’t worry about it right now, we can have fun in other ways.” She smiled playfully to ease him, but quickly his fingers reached somewhere deep inside her that stole her breath. “Is that okay?”
“That’s okay…”
He was sad he wouldn’t be able to feel her all the way as he intended, but that was for the best. He was already out of his mind, excited that all of that was happening anyway.
He hardened his movements and leaned on her neck, “I want to know what you sound like.”
She tried repressing a moan, his rough movements on her were making it very challenging. “If you keep doing that you’ll find out soon enough.”
He smirked at her teasing and decided to go rougher, though not faster. He instantly knew he made the right choice because her hand on him became sloppy as if forgotten, and her legs started spreading as if to give him more space. He prioritized his thumb over her clit in wide rough circles and her waist started bucking. He pulled away to look at her and surely enough she was close to falling apart. 
She looked at him through puckered eyebrows almost pleadingly and he licked his lips, wishing for nothing but the moment when it would happen. Suddenly she gasped and arched her back, then a roll of moans echoed from deep inside her throat. He fucked her with his fingers, completely absorbed by the sensual sounds her beautiful self was producing, and when she calmed down, he couldn’t contain his pride. He made her fall apart, he played her correctly and created that music through her. He felt honored and happy and extremely turned on, and she knew it because she immediately tightened her grip on his dick and hastened the movements.
“Did you like it? How I sound when I come?”
He opened his eyes which had closed momentarily to look at her pink cheeks and shiny eyes. She looked satisfied and hungry at the same time. His lips pulled — nymph was the right word for her.
“Definitely, yes,” he groaned quietly.
“I know you did,” she smiled and looked down. He was covered with precum, it was the perfect lube for her hand. “Have you wondered what I taste like?”
He blinked, his brain freezing for a second, and then he moved the hand covered in her slick still in her core. He could find out.
But she quickly stopped him, “No.” His hand stopped, though his mouth was open and waiting. “Not yet, you can find out after.”
“After?”
“After.”
Then she reached for his glistening hand and guided it to her mouth. She licked his wet fingers and sucked on them all while she kept pumping him. 
He groaned. “Is it good?” He asked, completely beside himself.
She chuckled, “You’ll find out in a minute.”
“I will?”
She smiled teasingly, still playing with his fingers and her tongue. “If I’m lucky.”
He groaned through a smile; he wanted to lick her and find out. He wanted to discover everything tonight.
“Where do I come?”
She smiled, “Make my hands messy.”
He looked down at her hands on him, on his tip and base working on him perfectly, then at her body, her lean legs, female curves, the line of her chest in between her modest cleavage, and then at his hand on her chin, now fully cleaned as she looked at him with hunger. He felt a prickle of embarrassment, she was looking at him making faces, but she looked absolutely invested. He dared think she was really into him, that a beautiful nymph like her would look at him twice and be interested in his pleasure, and that pushed him over. The thought of being with her and her wanting to be with him was enough to make him grunt deeply and pop. He grabbed her hands around him so he could slide in them pleasurably as his warm cum collected there and dripped on the sheets. 
When he finished, he took a deep breath with his eyes closed. He didn’t see her smile, nor was he bothered when she got up and went to wash her hands in the bathroom, he just sighed. That felt good, being there was good. He craved that satisfaction though he very rarely attained it. He sighed again.
She came back and laid on the bed again, prompting him to do the same. Their breaths were normal now, but whereas he was still processing, she was smiling playfully.
“Not having condoms sucks,” she puffed and he nodded. “But we can still have fun.”
He adjusted the pillow under him, wanting so much for that to be so when he suddenly gasped.
He got up and reached for his wallet in his blazer on the floor, and opened it. It took some effort, but very safely hidden was a wrapper that he waved victoriously. 
She grinned, “Good job! That’s a nice party trick.”
He smiled in embarrassment, “I didn’t even remember about it, it’s been there since—” His voice died when he turned the wrapper around, and then he closed his eyes.
“What?” She asked, curious. She sat up and took it from him since he wasn’t reacting, and when she saw it, she fell on the bed and burst out laughing. “Oh my god, I can’t!”
He was blushing in embarrassment, “It’s really been there for years, I don’t even remember when I put it there…”
She was still laughing, “Clearly! I mean, how long do condoms stay good? Five years?”
He tried taking it from her by leaning on her, “Well, we don’t have to use it, forget I—”
She hid it between her hand and her chest and raised her eyebrows, “Are you joking? Using an expired one is better than nothing, we’re using it.” Her voice was so firm he stopped in his tracks. “Unless you don’t want to, of course.”
“I want to,” he breathed immediately, eying her under him. He didn’t even realize he was shamelessly admitting to wanting her that badly, he was just enamored by the sight of her smiling teasingly.
“Then we have that to look forward to,” she smiled, putting it aside on the bed before raising her hands to feel his torso through his shirt. “How tired are you?”
“Not tired,” he murmured.
She grinned and her hands reached his back, “How fast do you recover?”
His cheeks warmed up wildly, “I… it depends…”
“Tonight. How much can I hope to have from you?”
Her hands on him mixed with her words were making him hot and unable to think. “I don’t know, it’s been a while since I… needed to perform like that.”
Her smile softened, “Let's find out together then. For now… I want to strip you.” His eyes roamed down her lilac dress for a second before trailing back up to find her tongue between her teeth. “Is that okay?”
“Yes.” 
She sat up, forcing him to move out of the way. Every yes of his sounded like a sigh, almost like happiness or relief for her having taken the initiative. She had no problems with that, but she would love it if he would relax. Maybe he would as they got comfortable.
Being naked always meant a significant amount of vulnerability and they were both aware of that. They kissed slowly while comfortably sitting in bed as they helped each other take off each piece of clothing at their own rhythm. He took most of his off first, starting with his waistcoat, shirt, inner tee shirt, then his slacks but not without getting rid of his shoes and socks first. She giggled when he made his shoes flip in the air with how fast he tried taking them off, and he smiled at her. He laid back down in bed and traced her uncovered legs. She still had her dress on and he pecked her cheek almost reverently before asking, “Where’s the zipper?”
She smiled, he was so cute. “On the back.”
She got up from the bed and turned her back so he could take care of pulling the zipper all the way down. He traced her back skin softly as he guided the strips to fall from her shoulders, then contoured the bands of her bra.
“Can I take it off?”
“I was hoping you would.”
He unhooked the hook quickly and traced her skin again slowly, this time leaning in to nuzzle it softly as he pulled everything off. She felt goosebumps all over, a wave of warmth invading her as she forgot how to breathe. He was so delicate and reverent that she felt like the most precious person he ever touched, and she was into that. It turned her on like crazy to be treated adoringly and he was hitting all the right keys.
She turned to him so he could push her strapless bra off and fully lay her bare, and he didn’t disappoint. He gently pulled it off along with the dress that fell to the floor, and his eyes roamed her body hungrily. She was so beautiful and elegant that he was totally hypnotized. 
He didn’t ask for permission and just dove for her chest, lowering himself to reach those wonderful perky nipples and take one in his mouth and another in his hand. He truly didn’t know how long his body would take to react or how he would perform, but he was happy that just seeing her naked immediately pumped him up. He sat on the bed and pulled her by the waist to continue the ministrations of his tongue, lips, and teeth on her chest while she moaned breathlessly and petted his hair. His hands lowered to the small of her back, then to her ass and he squeezed, feeling his hard dick throb inside his trunks. That was the finest offering he could ever have had and he wanted it.
“You’re so beautiful,” he told her in between switching nipples in his mouth, with wet traces and suckling sounds. His hands squeezed her asscheeks again, making her moan. “So beautiful. I need to have you,” he admitted, tracing his hands to pull her panties down.
His lips descended to her stomach before his hands pulled her to support her knees on either side of him. Suddenly, though, he grabbed her by the waist and lifted her so he could lay her in bed under him. She giggled when her hair splayed over the bed and she looked down at him.
“It looks like you’re ready again,” she pointed out.
He didn’t need to look at the tent in his trunks. “I am, but I want to taste you first.”
Her lips pulled in amusement as he leaned to trail down her body with kisses, focusing on her mound and inner thighs to her delight. She was trembling involuntarily when his lips brushed hers and she squirmed in both want and shyness. He licked her across her slit, taking in her flavor, then he chuckled, unsurprised.
“Of course, you’d be delicious too,” he muttered before getting down to business.
Angie moaned breathlessly and more and more as his tongue circled her clit. Her eyes were closed as she gripped the sheets, so completely focused on what he was doing. She cursed herself for having had one orgasm already because that would make it harder right now for him. He didn’t look like he wanted to give up, but she didn’t want to tire him.
“You’re so sexy,” he still encouraged her, which invariably kept on melting her. “Make that sound again,” he asked as he suckled on her clit. 
She did the sound he wanted but gritted her teeth. She was needy. “I want you,” she asked, as soon as she could breathe.
He smiled with glistening lips as he used two fingers to feel her tightness. “That’s a good idea… I was hoping to make you come first, though…”
God, he was so freaking adorable she couldn’t handle it. “Give me a second.”
She reached to stop his hand and gently move him away, and he let her. She got up and reached for something in her bag — a black cloth bag. She grabbed it and then threw it on the bed.
“What’s this?” Namjoon reached to grab it and immediately figured it out. “Oh, I see.”
She hopped on the bed next to him. “Don’t take this the wrong way,” she pleaded, suddenly worried. He looked let down despite his smile. “You’ll get me there, but since I already had an orgasm, you’ll probably lose the ability to move your jaw and you might need it tomorrow.” He chuckled at the way she put it and she felt confident in touching him again. “You were doing it wonderfully though,” she smiled, looking down. “And I’m more than happy to return the favor.”
He pressed his lips, “That’s— Only if you want to, you don’t have to.”
She smiled and reached for the vibrator, “You in my mouth will be the exact thing to make me come. So will you?”
“What do you mean?” He asked, raising his eyebrows.
“Would you… let me blow you while I pleasure myself?” He raised his eyebrows further in surprise. “I mean, you can of course control the toy if you want, I just mean… that would turn me on and push me to come.”
“I can use my fingers,” he seemed to think out loud.
She tilted her head, “You can if you think you can focus on two things at once.”
“Fair point,” he chuckled again. “Multitasking is not my thing.”
She bit her lip, “Actually, if you would be into it, you could fuck my mouth.” His mouth opened. “I mean, you know, only if you’re into that.”
“I’m into that, I…” he rubbed his face to clear out his surprise. “You just keep on surprising me.”
“In a bad way?” She asked, fearful.
“No, in a good way.” He reached for her hand, “We’re actually talking about what we want and expect before doing anything, which is great.”
She smiled, “I agree. It’s… very easy to talk to you, in fact.” She looked at their hands, then at the tent in his trunks. “And it doesn’t kill your mood, which is so refreshing,” she admitted. “I love it when I can communicate what I want and like without feeling like everything is ruined.”
He chuckled, “You almost got me… but you want to include me, so that’s okay.”
“What do you mean? Almost killed your mood?”
“Yeah…” He shrugged, “When the girl you’re with seems to prefer a toy to you, I mean…”
“Wow, are you crazy?” She jumped to her knees. “I’m freaking done with toys, so done,” her tone was laced with exasperation and he smirked. She was getting on his lap and he supported her waist to sit there. “I’m one hundred percent into you,” she underlined her words softly, lacing them with want. 
Now straddling his lap, they were close and personal. She grabbed his erection through the cloth to position it so it would rub on her nicely as she moved her hips. She had to lean back and support herself on her other hand, making her a sinful view. 
He was supporting her waist while eating her with his eyes and drinking her soft moans before she sat back up. He then dove on her chest again, ravishing the flesh in range of his mouth while she moved her waist to grind his cock so slowly and gently, but enough to help him draw those lustful moans out of her. 
She gripped his hair, “Did you feel how wet I was?” He hummed while flicking his tongue on her nipple. “Then you know how much you turn me on.”
The more she moved her hips, the crazier she became with the thought of that hard cock inside her. His mouth on her chest was not making it easier.
“Fuck, I want to ride you.”
He hummed, “You want a lot of things.”
She giggled, “I do, it’s all your fault.” She bit her lip strongly and then decided to push him to lay back on the bed with her over him. “Take some responsibility, Namjoon.”
He smiled, “I will. Tell me what you want.”
She was lying completely on him and straddling his cock now felt even better. She moaned over his lips, “Stay like that and let me ride you until I come on your cock.”
He groped her hips to help her move, “That sounds doable.”
She grinned, then reached for the condom. “I hope you can resist because it’s up to you how much we can get done.”
He chuckled, “You’re giving me too much responsibility.”
“I know, I’ll try my best to make it easy for you,” she sassily said, getting off him. He removed his trunks so she could cover him with the condom. “Feel free to tell me if I feel so good you’ll burst,” she added with a sly smile, before moving onto his lap again.
“You’re very confident,” he teased, supporting her on top of him again.
She leaned on him and aimed his cock inside her, “Oh, I am.” She made it a point to take him in slowly and in stages all while nuzzling his nose and seeing his reactions. His lips were agape and eyes closed, and with every inch, his nails sank on her hips. “How long has it been since you felt a tight cunt around you?” He was trying not to groan and it rilled her up. “All dripping just waiting for you to force yourself in?” Her voice was taunting, but laced with lust. “When was the last time you had a woman like me riding your hard cock?”
He bottomed out and she could feel him twitching inside her, which had her taking deep breaths to stay calm. The fact that she was the person getting to fuck him egged her on. That sexy, interesting, and sensible guy was a treasure that she was more than willing to have.
“I can’t recall,” he admitted, panting. “But I certainly never had one with a mouth as sassy as yours.”
She giggled as he smiled. She nuzzled his nose, “I gave you a chance to fuck this sassy mouth.”
“It’s still in my plans,” he admitted, finally looking at her.
“Perfect. Now let me milk you right,” she whispered sensually before adjusting her angle to move.
He was so deep inside her that by controlling her hips reaching an orgasm would be a piece of cake. That dirty talk with him had totally turned her on and him stretching her where it counted was taking her there.
“You feel so good,” he let out, still gripping her hips as if ready to stop her at any moment.
“I know,” she cooed, kissing his cheek. “How lucky are you that I’m riding you right now?”
“Very lucky,” he breathed.
“Very fucking lucky indeed,” she groaned, biting his cheek softly. “Will you give me your cum?”
“Oh yes.”
She cursed, grinding her clit in an angle that would get her there before she fell apart in moans over his mouth. He focused on feeling her around him, taking deep breaths to take in that sensation without letting it unfocus him. Then he hugged her body and kissed her when she searched for his lips. She was blushing and glowing and it filled him with pride to see her smile.
“See how into you I am?”
He chuckled and stayed calmly in place, letting her recover from her high.
“How much would you like to fuck me right now?” She was pecking his jaw and eying him with mischief.
“A lot,” he admitted, nodding his head in confirmation.
“I do deserve it after riding you so well, no?” She nibbled on his neck and he stretched while grabbing her asscheeks.
“Oh yes, absolutely.” He couldn’t stop smiling as if he had hit a jackpot.
She bit his earlobe before sitting up and getting off him. They both noticed how absolutely covered in slick he was, and then she got all fours.
“Show me how much I deserve it,” she asked sensually, moving her blonde hair over her shoulder. He sat up and touched her hanging boobs. “Hmm, show me how much you appreciate being able to fuck me.”
He leaned to kiss her as he groped her breasts, making her puff in between their kisses, then he moved to get behind her. He groped her asscheeks, spreading them for him, and licked his lips. She looked so fucking good, like a temptation, and he wanted to bury himself balls deep.
He aimed his cock at her core and slid in quickly, grunting with the sensation. She was so tight it caused an electric wave to go up and down his spine. He moved his hips a few times and shuddered, trying to collect himself.
“Are you ready to admit I was right?”
Her tone was mocking, but he only grunted, “I can admit that you deserve a nice pounding.”
She chuckled at the way his voice was tense and his nails sank on her hips. “If you want to spank me, you can.”
He leaned in and kissed her back with a smile on his lips, “Aren’t you full of surprises?”
“Aren’t you very lucky?” He smacked her ass, making a thin moan escape her throat. “Does it change anything?” He eyed her as he fucked her slowly. “Does it change the fact that you’re dying to fuck my tight cunt?” He smacked her again and she giggled right after a moan. “I’d love for you to mark me, don’t be afraid.”
“I don’t get you… You want to be worshiped, but you also want to be used?” He cleaned the sweat off his brow. He needed to understand to be able to decide on how to go about it.
“You might use me, but it had to be me.” She was biting her lips at the pleasure shooting from his pounding cock. “You might do whatever you want to me, but the point is that you want this pussy. Only I will make you feel this way. It will always be a form of worship.”
“You do feel very good…” he admitted, then slapped her ass again. “You take my cock very well.”
She moaned between words, “Your cock is so good… I’m fucking happy I didn’t miss out on this.”
He chuckled and leaned forward to grab her tits, fucking her so deep that her moans got to a higher pitch.
“Fuck, you’re deep.”
He groaned, “You're taking me so well…”
Too well, in fact, and he straightened back up and calmed his rhythm. 
She giggled, “Too much?” He struck her asscheek so hard it echoed in the room, yet she giggled. “You’re so my type I can’t control it, I’m sorry.”
He passed his fingers over her asscheeks, “I’m your type, huh?”
She wiggled her ass as if she wanted him to move his fingers. “Cute, attentive, sexy, and smart.” He wasn’t sure where, so he moved his fingers away, but she whined. “No, touch me. You can use me, Namjoon. I talk big but I want you to fuck me so bad,” she whined, moving her hips against his for him to fuck her deeper.
He was tempted to, but first, he slid his fingers between her asscheeks, and she trembled. She incentivized him with her bucked movements until he rubbed her asshole, making her moan deeper.
“You like that?”
She moaned again and he decided to rub it at the same rhythm he fucked her. Her asshole started twitching, and when it did he felt it around his cock too. She was getting tighter and wetter and he was completely up to his limit.
“Am I milking you right?” She asked in a breathy voice.
“Yeah, I’m close. I’ll stop playing with you and fuck you now, okay?”
He didn’t see the way she paused and blinked her eyes, confused. “Wh—?”
He positioned himself better behind her and unleashed his energy. He didn’t care how or what he was doing, as long as his cock was ramming right into her every time and hitting deep. Her thin moans were uncontrollable and music to his ears. She wanted to milk him, she deserved a good fucking, and he was going to give it to her.
Her face landed on the pillow as she started losing grip and he angled deeper. She could not think with the fast pace he was entering her, and all the sloppy sounds and slaps were just the icing on top. She never got to shut her brain off, but just there that’s exactly what happened and it was bliss. Her hand darted to her clit, which was covered in her juices, and she moaned desperately for her release. She wasn't planning on it, but she was beyond being organized and structured; that kind of pleasure was not premeditated or controlled, it was imposed.
He leaned on her and was talking to her but she couldn’t really register. 
“Yeah?” She finally caught him saying. “You want it? Come for me. Come on my cock with me.”
Her brain lit up like a firework popping and she moaned in a frenzy, cumming so hard he had to hold her hips in place or she would have fallen apart away from him. Her pleasure rippled and rippled until she was left a void drooling mess and it was… odd. Satisfyingly so.
He got off her and laid next to her, pulling her to fall to the sheets by his side gently. “Are you okay?” He asked with a hint of concern as he pulled her hair out of her face.
She was still panting with her mouth open, and she blinked. It took her a moment to react.
“What… What the hell was that?”
“What?” 
“You— how did you—?” She opened and closed her eyes. “I’m so mind-blown right now.”
He grinned happily as they tangled their legs together. “In a good way, right?”
She was still shocked, “You— You’re good. My god, are you fucking good. That had never happened to me before.”
“What?”
“My brain shutting down like that,” she shrugged, hugging herself in bewilderment.
He scooted closer and hugged her, “It was good then.”
“It was awesome, it’s what it was.”
Her tone was so firm he just smiled, “I’m happy.”
She reached to trace his jaw with her hand. “You really are something.”
He tapped their foreheads and looked deeply into her eyes. “So are you.”
They were left sweating and calming down, but eventually, the lethargy became too much. As if on automatic pilot, she got up to pee and he took care of the condom and did the same. In minutes they both threw themselves in bed and snuggled together to sleep relaxedly.
Despite her sluggishness, Angie eventually woke up and looked around, confused. She thought it was the jetlag still messing with her after three days. She reached for her phone: 5h53. She sighed deeply and put her phone away, she could still sleep.
Then someone moved behind her, wrapping an arm around her waist, and she closed her eyes. For a split second she thought she had dreamed of him, but that fresh, citrus, and woody scent reminded her that it was all real. She turned, still under his arm, and he leaned to unite their foreheads, still in his sleep. She looked at him with a small smile, feeling so relaxed. She didn’t know how he managed to make her like that but it was certainly something to be praised.
She closed her eyes, ready to fall back asleep, when his nose started nuzzling hers softly. She sighed and hugged him closer — she was awake, and they could do whatever he wanted. His lips fell on hers gently and she smiled at his delicateness and gentlemanly actions. They kissed slowly and softly for a while before she moved her hand to trail his torso. She was getting hotter and she felt like there was still so much of him she hadn't explored.
He seemed to get hot as well and reach for her to come closer, taking equal opportunity to touch her. She squeezed his shoulder in incentive for him to do as he pleased and couldn’t contain the moans as he did. He felt and groped her curves firmly, and when she evaded his mouth so she could breathe out a moan, he quickly caught her neck skin in between his teeth. She scratched his skin and grazed his scalp in approval and rolled with him immediately once he got on top of her.
His kisses were more demanding, but she was completely on the same wavelength. She wanted him to take her, to touch her, and handle her however he saw fit. He had earned that.
He trailed down her neck and quickly made his stop on her chest. His tongue and mouth were warm and wet and she squirmed with want, opening her legs instantly. He bit her once, twice and it only vexed her more; she was already so ready for his touch.
His fingers brushed her folds before searching for her wetness and she stopped breathing, completely focused on what was going to happen next. He was eying her attentively, feeling that shift on her chest. He removed his fingers, which made her raise an eyebrow, but his intentions immediately became clear. He gave her one last kiss before moving down so that his mouth could now reach her mound, and she trembled.
His lips brushed hers softly and increasingly with more pressure until his tongue opened her up and started licking her. She gasped for air with the way he seemed to want to lick her slit clean, knowing perfectly well that was the way to just make her even wetter. His hands grabbed her hips to stay in place when his mouth moved over her clit and he was not gentle. She writhed under him with whiny moans, she could feel his smile on her as he licked her clit deliciously.
She couldn’t stop squirming and trying to escape it while simultaneously being annoyed whenever he lost contact with her bud. She started moving her hips and her moans dragged.
“Use your lips,” she pleaded, and the sensation became less wet but firmer. “Yeah, like that.”
She was unaware of his eyes on her seeing her oscillate with her pleasure hungrily. He was trying to keep a steady pace for her, but she was making it hard.
Then she suddenly propped on her elbows, “Let me ride your mouth.”
He raised his eyebrows and gave her one last kiss. She seemed to realize what she had just said while he licked his lips and sat up.
She was blushing hard, “I mean if you’re okay with that.”
He was already lying down, pushing the pillow away. “I’m more than okay with that, come here.”
She took the hand he was offering and got on her knees. She then passed a leg over him so she would sit on his belly. She was trying her hardest not to just jump on his glistening mouth, out of respect, but he incentivized her by pushing the small of her back in his direction. That along with his hand still holding hers for support just pushed her to raise and sit where she wanted to with a deep sigh.
She cursed, “Tap me if you need me to stop, okay?”
His hands felt her hips firmly before he moved so his lips could disappear under her and she gasped. He felt too fucking good, she would come in a literal minute if he kept—
She sucked in a moany breath and started bucking her hips as gently as she could. He was a fucking sin with the way he managed to suckle on her clit every time it passed his mouth, just to escape it seconds later. And yet every time she did her circular hip movement, he was right there waiting, pressing her hips down so that the rub would be as intense as possible. She was too turned on, too far off, so when his nails sank into her skin to keep her close, she only needed a few seconds to fall apart.
He licked her and mouthed her roughly as she came, keeping her core as close to his mouth as possible. She had to whine because of the overstimulation, and only then did he let go. She stumbled back, completely alienated on how to control her own body, but he had her. He quickly reached to support her back so she wouldn’t just fall and instead helped her sit back on his lap graciously. 
He sat up and brushed her hair away from her red hot face, “You make the most beautiful sounds.”
She opened her glistening eyes to him and chortled, “You make me do them.”
He grinned happily, “I do.”
She was still recovering from the hastened heartbeat in her chest, but she reached to kiss him nonetheless. His mouth tasted of her and it burned her. She bit his lip, clenching around nothing. She shouldn’t feel possessive, but she couldn’t help it.
“Remember my sassy mouth?”
He cupped her neck and kissed the corner of her mouth, “I do.”
“I don’t think I can articulate much yet, but how about doing what you planned?”
He chuckled at the hint of neediness in her voice. “You mean you blowing me while you pleasure yourself?”
“Or you fucking my mouth, whichever you prefer,” she sighed, nuzzling his nose.
He brushed his nose back on hers and hummed for a moment.
“We can start with you and see how you feel.”
She pecked his lips and immediately moved away. She grabbed a pillow and threw it on the floor before kneeling on it, then she tapped the edge of the bed.
“Come here.”
He moved to sit there with his legs around her and she drew closer, leaning down to kiss his crotch and belly before nuzzling her way down to his balls. 
He grabbed her hair out of the way without any pressure whatsoever and just stayed with his mouth agape looking at the way she was licking and nibbling his balls gently. She was soft and mindful of hurting him, but quick and sloppy as if she was hungry and it filled him with anticipation. 
By the time she licked up his shaft, she was already drooling and she looked up to see him, to make sure he knew that. She wanted that, she wanted to taste him, to drive him wild into coming and giving everything he had.
She took his tip in and remembered well how he liked pressure there more than speed, and she got to it immediately. She sucked hard on his head while she bobbed her head in short movements, making her best to keep that pressure constant. The way he groaned and tightened his grip around her hair melted her and gave her even more energy. His girth was wide enough that her jaw would hurt for sure after the fact, but that would not be the thing to make her stop.
She added her tongue to the mix, flicking it and searching for the place that made him moan the hardest while she suckled on him.
She must have done something right because his taste hit her taste buds and she moaned. He tasted sweet and delicate and she guessed then that if she wanted the full taste she had to go for it. She was drooling with how much she wanted it and she didn’t realize how much she was pushing him until he groaned loudly and put one hand on her neck to gently guide her out.
She raised her head with a pop of her lips, keeping his hard dick pointing at her with her hands. Its glistening reddened tip was tempting her and she couldn’t look away.
“That was close,” he mumbled, and she finally looked up.
He was panting and he reached to wipe the thin coat of sweat off his brow. He looked down at her and she could only curve her lips in amusement.
“Why did you stop me? I was having a blast.”
She sounded playful and he chuckled, “Well, you never told me where to come. Plus,” he moved away from her to reach for something on the bedside table. “You wanted to pleasure yourself.”
She lowered her eyes to his open hand and saw her vibrator.
She grimaced in disbelief, “You stopped our fun for that?”
“I want you to feel good,” he smiled sheepishly.
Her eyebrows jumped, “How do you think I’ve been feeling so far?!”
He grinned with a hint of shyness, and pride, and she bit her lip down hard so she wouldn’t bite him.
“You said me in your mouth was the thing to make you come… and I don’t want to steal that opportunity from you.”
Her chin dropped in shock, then she shook her head. “You’re unbelievable. We’re taking care of you right now and you’re still worried about me?” She reached suddenly for his lips and he supported her through their kiss with gentleness. “You can’t be real,” she whispered, nuzzling his nose before going back down on her knees. “You just can’t be.”
He didn’t know what to say, and she didn’t give him the time to think of something.
“You should come in my mouth,” she told him, grabbing the egg-shaped vibrator. “I need to know how you taste. You can get up and fuck me whenever you want, just please don’t do it too harshly because I gag easily.” She spread her legs a bit so she could accommodate the vibrator. “And if I start coming, do not stop. In fact, I might get sloppy, so take matters into your own hands.” She raised an eyebrow, “Did I forget something?”
“No, ma'am.”
He was smiling in a tease and she pursed her lips before looking down. His cock twitched under her gaze and she looked back up. He didn’t need to ask for attention, so she guessed it was involuntary, which made it even hotter.
She sighed as she took him inside her mouth again and she made sure to take him all the way in comfortably a few times to show him where he could go. He didn’t fit completely in, so despite his moans she hoped he had paid attention.
Only then did she turn on the vibrator and hummed instantly. She was not going to last, she was certain. She was immensely turned on, any nudge in the right direction was enough.
She bucked her hips on the toy and used that same rhythm in her mouth. It was harder to stay focused and she started moaning quickly out of the sheer pleasure shooting through her. He had such a good fucking cock that fit in her mouth perfectly and would spray her full soon. He couldn’t help himself, she would blow him just right until he would pop. He knew deep down that he had no choice. He wanted to come for her, to fill her up, he was helpless. If she wanted it, he had to give it to her, and if he tried holding back, she would blow him and ride him until he blew.
Thoughts like those drove her insane, and his dick in her mouth was exactly what brought to life all of her fantasies. In minutes her whines gained a pitch and he should know by now that meant she was right on the verge of her orgasm. Her hand on his base lost grip, and her lips became less taut, allowing for her drool to drip down his shaft, and he knew what to do.
He got up and she moved with him, allowing him to grab her head and gain complete reign over everything. She let him do it and in seconds her orgasm invaded her, making her moan deeply. And he grunted with those sounds because he could reach her throat that much easier, interrupting them with every thrust. It was so fucking hot that he had no problems in just leaping through it as soon as he could confidently say her orgasm was done.
Then she hummed as his cum started dripping on her mouth and her lips became taut again. She sucked him neatly and swallowed him dry as he did his best efforts to contain his hips jerking. He was still holding her hair and head, and her mouth felt so wet and tight he had to take a deep breath, mastering himself until the end.
He sighed as the pleasure dissipated gently, then let her head go. She pulled out and looked up at him with a sly smile.
“You… are fucking great.”
He broke down laughing quietly and she did the same, holding his hands to get up and stand tall. He immediately supported her lower back and neck and drew her in for a kiss. His tongue licked hers and danced with hers, not bothered in the slightest by his own taste. 
He pecked her nose and she sighed. “I could sleep a bit more.”
He smiled, “Me too.”
He let her go just enough for the both of them to get under the sheets again and snuggled her when she came closer, hiding her face on his chest.
They drifted off asleep almost instantly, and so it felt like in the same breath they woke up. They were startled by the knocking loud sounds on the door and she pulled away to blink at him in bewilderment. He had a quizzical eyebrow raised and she had her brow creased, completely dumbfounded.
A woman started yelling in Korean and Angie’s expression became almost comical as she sat up, trying but unable to understand a single word. Namjoon sat up too.
“Late! Late!”
“I’m coming! One minute!” Angie finally yelled, and then it quieted down. It had worked, whoever it was left. “What the—”
“She says you’re late, the bride is asking for you.”
She turned to him, then blinked — of course he understood that. She frowned and searched for her phone, “We just drifted off a minute ago, how—”
She gasped and jumped off the bed in two seconds. She had missed calls, and Hyejin had sent her a roll of messages. She played the last audio.
“Angie! Where are you?! I don’t know if I should be concerned or angry, should I call the police?! I need my bridesmaid, I’m almost done and you’re not here! I’m going to cry, please don’t disappear on my wedding day!”
“Shit, shit, shit.”
Indeed it was almost ten in the morning. She turned to Namjoon, who was now getting up with his phone in hand.
“They’re looking for me too.”
“How the heck did my alarm not ring?” Angie groaned.
“It doesn’t matter,” he reminded her, holding her arms. “I’ll leave you to get ready and go and do the same.” She shuddered and nodded. He was so fucking sexy just calming her down like that and focusing her on what mattered. “Will I… see you later?”
She smirked, “If Hyejin doesn’t kill me or kick me out, yes.”
He smiled and turned to search for his clothes and put them on. She grabbed her phone and tapped to record an audio.
“I’m so sorry, Hyejin, my alarm didn’t go off. I’m going to shower and I’ll be there in ten minutes. Stay calm, I love you.”
She sent it quickly and turned to the man in her bedroom. She felt butterflies in her stomach and swallowed them. She probably shouldn’t, she was an adult and she knew how those things went. Still, he wasn’t out of the room yet and she was too tempted. 
So while he bent over to put his shoes on, she walked up to him and held his jaw for him to rise back up. She kissed him softly and he stood up by himself, supporting her arms as he did.
Then she pulled back with a small smile. “I’ll see you soon.”
Namjoon nodded and saw her disappear into the bathroom. He shook his head to get the image of her lean back and perky ass out of his mind and turned to leave. Her shower started just before he closed the door behind him.
He rushed down the corridor and used the stairs to go up to his room. He was super fast and ignored the people in the corridor, even though the chances that they were any of the guys were high. He needed to get ready quickly, he also didn’t want to stress Hyejin or miss anything. It was a special day for her and he definitely wanted to be there, they were close friends.
He showered and got ready as fast as he could. He was putting on his gray blazer when someone knocked hastily on his bedroom door and he ran to open it.
On the other side, Jin had wide shocked eyes. In fact, six pairs of eyes were gawking at him.
“Hi guys—”
“He’s here!” Jin yelled, despite the others being equally aware.
“He wasn't here before,” Hoseok frowned, confused.
“Where were you?!” Jimin asked with a scoff.
“Were you hiding somewhere hyung?” Taehyung asked.
They were barging in the room as if searching for something and he had no chances to say anything.
“Where would he hide?” Yoongi whined, with a puff. “Let’s just go, the wedding is in thirty minutes.”
“Yeah, I want to catch breakfast,” Jungkook rubbed his hands together.
“We just had breakfast,” Hoseok raised an eyebrow.
“Oh, right, you missed breakfast,” Jin turned to Namjoon and pointed it out with a shrug.
“Well, you know, second breakfast,” Jungkook said slowly.
“What are you, a hobbit?” Jimin laughed coming from the bathroom with Taehyung. Were they looking for something?
“No, but these things always drag on,” Jungkook pouted.
“That’s very true,” Jin agreed. "We're going to be hungry."
“We’re going to be late,” Yoongi groaned, rubbing his eyes.
“Where were you anyway, hyung?” Jimin asked, seemingly confident he couldn’t find anything suspicious in his room.
“What do you mean where…” Namjoon rubbed the back of his neck while heading for the door. “Let’s g—”
“Why is your bed still made?”
The room quieted down and everyone turned to look at Taehyung, who was standing right beside the bed eying it suspiciously. They all could see in an instant that he was correct, his bed was perfectly made.
Namjoon scoffed, “What do you mean? I always make the bed when I wake up.”
“That’s true,” Jungkook murmured and Yoongi nodded.
“But this perfectly?” Taehyung insisted.
Jimin jumped on the bed and raised something above his head with a victorious chant, “Ah! The chocolate is still under his pillow!”
Everyone then turned to Namjoon to complain.
“It would have melted.”
“What melted, it would have fallen.”
“You should have eaten it.”
“No one leaves the chocolate there.”
“The bed is too perfect, just me jumping on it made more of a mark than your sleep.”
“If you were here before, why didn’t you respond when we came to call you for breakfast?”
“And why did you not answer your phone?” Jimin added, remembering it suddenly.
The room quieted down for a few seconds and most eyes fell on Namjoon, who just frowned in confusion. 
Thankfully, Jungkook rubbed his chin and tried, “Maybe he was in the shower…”
“For an hour?” Taehyung scoffed.
“His hair is wet right now, you just showered right?” Jin smirked playfully.
Jin’s question was the last straw and Namjoon just sighed, turned, and walked out the door.
“We’re going to be late.”
The guys whined after him, with Taehyung closing the door behind them all before yelling across the corridor, “Where did you sleep?!”
Namjoon’s eyes widened in a second out of sheer embarrassment before he groaned and turned to go down the stairs with the other six trailing him. He could not be stuck with them in an elevator right now and he needed to burn the energy that stress was causing.
It’s not like he couldn’t tell them, he thought, as they exited the staircase towards the lobby. He quickly rushed to the balcony of the hotel that led to the garden where the wedding ceremony would be held. There, fortunately, the class and formality of the event quieted the others down. He hoped it would distract them enough as he walked quietly to the beverages table and got himself a coffee. 
He could tell them, but he wondered if it was correct to do so. He didn’t kiss and tell, that would be rude of him. Additionally, she would be there at the party and if they met her, it could be weird if they knew. What if they said stupid things or insinuated something, he would die with the embarrassment not to mention he wanted to see her again. 
I’ll see you soon.
He blushed and it wasn’t from the hot coffee. He wanted to see her again.
“Seriously, hyung.” He turned and Taehyung was there, reaching to grab a coffee too. “I won’t tell anyone, but the curiosity is killing me.”
Namjoon licked his lips and looked around them. There were definitely too many people there, so he started walking as if nonchalantly wanting to walk the gardens. Taehyung followed him.
“Hyung! Trust me, I just—”
“I wasn’t in my room, alright?” Namjoon turned suddenly, almost spilling both their drinks but Taehyung stopped in his tracks before they could clash.
Taehyung grinned widely, “Ah, I knew it!” He was so giddy he would be jumping right now if it wasn’t for the drink. “Who is she? We saw you with a girl yesterday, you guys were talking.” Namjoon groaned and pressed his temples. The lack of sleep was making his head hurt. “Is it her?”
“Excuse me.”
Both men turned, one with panicked eyes, the other with a pout.
“We’re rounding up everyone for the ceremony to start,” the lady told them politely with a bow.
Namjoon bowed back and took the opportunity to drag Taehyung along, “Not a word of this. I’ll tell you, but not now. Please, let’s keep it quiet.”
He gave him a pleading look and Taehyung smiled, “Not a word, hyung. You can trust me.”
They went straight to their seats on the bride’s side, second row, all to themselves. Most people were already there and ready.
“Where were you?” Jin whispered in a scolding tone.
“Coffee,” Taehyung answered sheepishly, sipping on his paper cup. Jimin eyed him suspiciously, but Taehyung had the most angelical expression on.
Namjoon was unaware of this however because his eyes were avidly searching for someone. And luckily for him, he didn’t have to wait long. Music started to play and people started making their way down the aisle. He nodded at the groom and some groomsmen he knew. Everyone bowed when the parents of the groom passed, then the mother of the bride. And finally, there was someone that passed that stole his breath away.
Angie was wearing a dark blue dress that delineated her curves beautifully. Her blonde hair was falling on her right shoulder in delicate waves and her cleavage was deep, though not too flashy. She was smiling the whole time, and the corners of her lips twitched when her eyes finally fell on him. He had no idea what kind of face he was making, but only when she passed by him did he blink and break the spell. 
Hyejin was of course stunning and nearly crying in happiness as she passed by her friends and family, and Namjoon felt his eyes wet at the sight of her. He glanced to check on the others and everyone was smiling the same, only Yoongi looked down for a moment while Hyejin was left by her dad to her fiancé at the altar. 
The ceremony was beautiful and everyone cheered and whistled when they finally kissed as husband and wife. The tables for lunch had been set on the other side of the garden and everyone made their way there after passing by the bride and groom to congratulate them.
As people who stood up front, BTS were one of the first to approach them. Namjoon was behind Yoongi in line, who seemed to want to avoid the moment, but Namjoon wasn’t having it. He knew Yoongi hated feelings, but it was an important moment for Hyejin and—
“You look beautiful,” Namjoon heard Yoongi say quietly. 
Namjoon thought it was weird that was all Yoongi said, instead of congratulations and lots of happiness on your marriage. His eyebrows jumped at the way Yoongi and Hyejin were just staring into each other’s eyes, and he looked away quickly. Whatever story they might or not once had just ended, and he felt for Yoongi. Namjoon knew he would never say anything, no matter the words that crossed his mind right now. 
He looked up in time to see Yoongi’s pressed lips as he walked away, and then Hyejin’s eyes filled with tears. Namjoon stepped in quickly to hug her and hide her from the world, and she took the opportunity instantly.
“It’s okay,” he whispered against her head, kissing it. She was grabbing him for dear life. “You look stunning, like the brightest of stars, the most perfect flower.” She sobbed once in his chest and he kissed her head again. “We’re all happy for you. We support you no matter what.”
She chuckled and pulled away, cleaning her tears quickly. “Yeah.” She swallowed, “I’m just emotional today.”
He nodded and reached for her hand then kissed it. “We love you, don’t forget that.”
Hyejin smiled, but her lips trembled. Namjoon was ready to move along but Hyejin tightened her grip on his hand and pulled him to lean in, “I’ll say this quickly before I lose the chance to. You and Angie are my closest friends. You guys are a match made in heaven. Don’t hurt her.” He pulled away with wide eyes and she smirked, “Don’t worry, I told her the exact same thing.”
She squeezed his hand and then let it go. He pressed his lips as he processed all those emotions and walked to join the rest of the members at their lunch table. 
The party dragged on, and by the time everyone was celebrating and having lunch together, the seat to the right of Namjoon and the left of Jungkook was still empty.
“Who the hell is ‘Angie’ anyway?” Jungkook read with a stutter.
Namjoon pressed his lips as they all dug into the food. He wasn’t sure how to answer that—
“Hi again.”
All seven men stopped eating to see the woman dragging the chair to sit down. She smiled at them with individual nods, smiling a little wider to Jungkook as she sat beside him. Namjoon pressed his lips at this, he wasn’t sure how to take that smile—
“Did you have any trouble making it in time?” She leaned in to ask in his ear, and he immediately felt a blush creep in on his cheeks.
“No, I was fine,” he whispered back in English, trying not to combust. Fortunately, none of the others could understand them. “You?”
Angie puffed as she got ready to taste the appetizer, “Hyejin almost bit my head off.” She hummed at how good it was then smiled. “I hope you don’t mind, I had to tell her.” She looked worried as she waited for his reaction. “It was a survival instinct.”
He grinned, “I understand. She sounded… authoritarian when she, uh… commented about it.”
Angie’s eyes widened, “Oh no… Did she…?” He nodded and Angie sighed. “I'm so sorry. Damn it, I didn’t imagine she would bother you about it.”
He chuckled, “She told you the exact same she told me.” Angie tried eating a bite as she pondered on what to say. “She seems rather protective of us.”
She grinned, “She does, doesn’t she?”
They were interrupted when celebrations started among tables with people giving their speeches and Angie stayed quiet. Despite being a bridesmaid, Hyejin knew why she didn’t want to do a speech — she didn’t speak Korean. She was there to support her best friend, but she knew she wouldn’t really partake in the party.
Namjoon was sweet and translated most of what was happening so she wouldn’t feel left out, and she was thankful. She could sense the other guys’ eyes on her and she decided to become even more invisible.
She lost track of time, they were waiting for dessert when the man on her right side drew her attention.
“Who… are you?”
His English was probably not good, but she smiled at his effort. “I’m Angie,” she answered, bowing shortly.
“I’m Jungkook,” he answered, with a hand on his chest. “Who…” He looked over at Namjoon and she opened her mouth, then closed it.
Her Korean was truly rudimentary so she tried remembering. She knew the word for friend, but she was stomped on how to explain—
“You can say it, I’ll translate,” Namjoon offered with a smile.
“I don’t want to bother you,” she answered with a pained smile.
“You’re not.” 
His eyes didn’t rest on her like she hoped they would, and she tried not to feel discouraged. 
“I’m Hyejin’s friend. We were roommates for six years in college, so we became pretty close.”
He translated it and all the guys hummed. Another one asked something.
“Jimin asks if you’re also a physician.”
“No, I’m a physicist.” She smiled, then chuckled at their confusion. “Close, but not quite the same.”
She asked about them and was surprised to find they were all singers and idols. They were all very good-looking, but then again so was everyone in Hyejin’s entourage. It made sense because her father and now husband worked in the music industry, but it was always shocking to meet someone seemingly normal but who was truly so rich and famous.
Which reminded her of who she had slept with last night. She kept chatting with them while in the back of her mind, she considered this. Namjoon was too great, it was hard to believe, but then again not that much. He was smart, sensible, polite, hot, and a good lover. She almost scoffed in disbelief, how was he still single? But he had to be, if not for Namjoon not saying anything, at least Hyejin would have when she told her they had spent the night together. 
“I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your names,” she smiled. “Jungkook,” she pointed at the man on her right, who smiled.
One by one they presented each other and she tried not to give it away, but her eyes fell back on Yoongi. So that was the famed Yoongi. She didn’t mean this musically, of course, she didn’t know anything about that.
They chatted and when the party progressed and they got up to get drinks, she smiled and let them go. She was surprised when Namjoon came back with a flute of champagne for her.
“Thank you.”
He nodded with a smile and sat back down.
“Can I ask you something?”
“Yeah,” he answered, sipping on his wine.
“Do you know anything about Hyejin and that guy, Yoongi?”
Namjoon raised his eyebrows, “Well… I mean, I know something but…”
She leaned towards him and whispered, “Will you tell me? It’s a big mystery to me, it’s the only guy she ever spoke about in college.” Namjoon raised his eyebrows. “She clearly liked him, but when she came back here I guess she chose someone else. It always confused me.” 
Namjoon looked down and nodded as Angie smiled at Hyejin dancing with her dad.
“This is a secret, I think I’m the only one of the guys who knows,” he started and she zipped her lips closed.
“My lips are sealed. You and I are the only ones that know about this, then.”
He nodded. “We grew up together, she’s Jungkook’s age.” He eyed Angie, suddenly realizing that she was also Jungkook’s age. She raised her eyebrows questioningly, and he shook his head. “Yeah, so I have known her the longest since I was the first to join the company, and she reminded me of my younger sister, so we became close. Then Yoongi joined and she was struck. She was only fourteen but she crushed on him hard. For years, she hung out with all of us, but she was head over heels for him.”
Angie chuckled, “You mean getting all quiet and red around him?” He nodded. “I’ve seen that, but only in passing. She dated in college, but it was never really serious. She was always hung up on someone from here,” Angie continued with a sad shrug. “One time she got drunk and wailed about the ‘cream’ incident.”
Namjoon was shocked, “You know about that?” She nodded. “You have to tell me!” Her eyebrows jumped. “No one knows what happened, Yoongi never said anything. It’s probably the only secret they both kept from us. Or at least from me.”
She eyed him with squinted eyes, “Hmm, are you trustworthy with such sensitive information?”
His jaw dropped and then he sat up straight, “I thought we were sharing secrets…”
She grinned, “We are… You’ll keep it a secret?”
“I’ll take it with me to my grave.” He promised with a hand over his chest, then his eyebrows puckered. He had said that before.
“It’s silly, really. Basically, when she was eighteen, before she came to the US, she found Yoongi in the kitchen with a can of whipped cream. I think they played for it or something, but it basically exploded on them and covered them up. She was really worried about upsetting him, so she tried to clean him up and I think things got heated. She might have removed her shirt, or his, I don’t remember, but I do know that he grabbed her by the shoulders and firmly pushed her to stand away, then he ran off.” Her smile vanished as she remembered Hyejin telling her this. “She regretted never confronting him about it, or telling him how she felt.” Namjoon stayed quiet. “She saw that as a rejection, but she never had the guts to confirm it.”
“We never knew about that. We only ever saw them covered in cream and they both refused to say anything about it. We even thought they were dating, but they both denied it.”
“I don’t think they ever dated,” Angie commented, glancing at Yoongi sipping on a drink at the bar. “Otherwise she would be marrying him.”
Namjoon nodded with a degree of sorrow, “I agree… I never saw anything that made me believe he might have feelings for her until today. I think he’s suffering in his own way.”
She sighed after they stayed quiet for a while, “That’s so sad… She’s the one that got away…”
“So is he…”
“But why? I mean, they’re both adults,” she frowned, turning to look at Namjoon. “Why did she not go for it when she came back? Was he dating someone else?”
Namjoon’s lips pulled in an attempt at a smile, “No, he wasn’t. He still isn’t.”
Her eyebrows jumped, “Wow, then why? Hyejin knows better than to suck it up—”
“He’s an idol.”
“So?”
He pressed his lips and looked down, “It’s just too complicated. They’d never have a normal relationship, and it would be a lot of pressure for her.” He raised his eyes and he wished it wasn’t hurting him that much to say those things. “She probably never asked because he would have to say no. Even if he wanted to say yes.”
Angie’s expression was pale as one of her eyebrows was lowered in subtle disagreement. She could understand what he was trying to say, but she refused to buy it.
“I’m sorry, but that’s bullshit.” Her tone was soft. “Look at him, do you think it was worth it? We talked about how success turns into emptiness. I told you that not all sacrifices are worth it, and I’m not a renowned billionaire star.” She paused. She was frowning despite not wanting to be harsh on him. She just utterly refused that thought. “If it’s like this for me, I can’t imagine how it is for him.” She looked away at Yoongi and then at Hyejin. “I hope no one else goes through the same thing.”
She dragged her chair and got up, and he stuttered to say something but was too late to stop her. He saw her walk away in between all those people and he felt powerless. What could he say? Maybe she was right. Having seen Yoongi and Hyejin grow up together, he surely would have wished it was them getting married today. In a parallel universe, maybe they were. And it was sad to think Yoongi was not as happy as he could have been, but—
“She’s pretty.”
Namjoon turned to see Yoongi sitting on Jin’s spot. Namjoon passed his hand through his hair but nodded. There was nothing to say other than agree.
“And she seems interesting too,” Yoongi mused quietly. “Otherwise you wouldn’t spend hours talking to her like no one else exists.”
Namjoon pressed his lips, unsure of what to say. “When did I—?”
“Last night,” Yoongi answered. “And today, but you said something that upset her.”
Namjoon puffed and rubbed his face. What the hell was happening with him lately?
“We were discussing you, actually,” he admitted, eying his hyung.
“Me?”
“Yes. And Hyejin.”
Yoongi held his eyes then looked down at his drink and Namjoon reached for his. He wouldn’t say more than that, they were discussing secrets after all.
“I love her.”
Namjoon almost choked and Yoongi scoffed.
“Don’t act like you didn’t know, you were probably the only one who ever noticed.”
Namjoon nodded slowly, “How are you?”
“Miserable,” he answered with a smile, then downed his drink. “I’m burying my heart today.”
Namjoon grimaced but didn’t know what to say. “Things could have been different.” Yoongi scoffed and pushed his empty glass away. “Do you regret it?”
Yoongi heaved a deep breath, “I always wanted to be successful, to have a legion of fans. To have money and comfort. To be recognized for the genius I am.” Namjoon hid his smile with his glass. “But losing her… might be the only regret in my life.”
Yoongi’s eyes were intense and had a pain contained in them that made Namjoon instantly worried. He didn’t remember ever seeing his eyes like that, though it was true that Yoongi was the most reserved of them all, especially emotionally.
“So be confident,” Yoongi told him with half a smile. “Whatever you feel or want to do, be confident. You can do it.”
“Guys, you’re not dancing!” Taehyung neared them with the rest of the gang.
“I’m not dancing,” Yoongi scoffed.
“Me neither,” Namjoon agreed with a forced smile.
Angie got back to the table and sat in her spot after giving them a small smile. The guys restarted chatting, but Namjoon couldn’t pay attention. He hadn’t turned to see her or talk to her, but her quiet presence there burned his back. There were things left unsaid between them, he just really didn’t know what he could say.
“You have something on your neck.”
He frowned at the male voice speaking in English and turned back. All men did, in fact, only to see someone familiar talking to Angie.
Jin tried to call him, “Taesun!” 
But he was dismissed quickly with a nod. Jungkook muttered something about him being in his spot, and Taehyung agreed quietly.
“What does he want?”
But Namjoon let out a deep breath. He knew exactly what he wanted. Hyejin had asked him to make sure he wouldn’t harass Angie so he should have expected it.
“Taesun—”
“I’ll be with you guys in a minute, okay?” He gave them a half-caustic smile before turning back to Angie in English. “Did you notice? Right here.”
He meant to reach the skin where her shoulder met her neck and she leaned back to dodge his hand with a frown. By doing this she almost bumped into Namjoon, who caught her shoulders gently. She felt supported by his touch, but that was her fight and she shouldn’t bother him.
“Sorry,” she bowed quietly without looking at him before turning to Taesun. “Yes, I know.” Her tone was dry as if she was being bothered, which she was. 
He smiled, maybe choosing not to see it. “Did you hit it somewhere by accident or something?”
Her lips curved, “No, I’m pretty sure it was intentional.”
Namjoon had decided to turn halfway towards his bandmates, who were listening to the conversation unapologetically despite not understanding it entirely. He couldn’t help a smile at the snarky tone of her voice, and he hid it under his hand.
“Will you dance with me?”
Namjoon’s lips pressed at the wanton tone of Taesun’s voice, and he closed his eyes. After the last words between him and Angie, he would understand it if she accepted and—
“I’m sorry, I really can’t.” Namjoon’s eyes jumped to her head, unable to hide his interest. “You see, last night I hit more places than my neck, so it would be really uncomfortable to move.”
His hand was covering his face, but anyone could tell he looked concerned. Did he hurt her somehow?
Yet Taesun chuckled and shook his head, “I got it, I got it. It’s a pity, but maybe you’ll change your mind later.”
Her lips curved in a polite smile, but she turned away quickly to grab her drink and dismiss him. The others might have not understood a word, but body language and tone of voice spoke volumes. Jungkook immediately moved once Taesun stepped away to occupy his rightful place beside Angie, and Taehyung followed him. They both leaned worriedly and quietly asked her if she was okay. Taesun was married, and his attitude was really distasteful.
Jin and Hoseok immediately bit the bullet and jumped at the opportunity to distract him. 
Yoongi was supporting his head on his hand when he asked quite loudly, “How’s your wife doing?”
Taesun only gave him half a smile before excusing himself.
“How can Hyejin share the same tree branch with him,” Hoseok wondered aloud.
“I need another drink,” Yoongi said, getting up.
The others seemed to decide to follow when they eyed Namjoon, who was staring at the table in front of him while trying to decide something. He was the only one not moving away and Taehyung smacked Jungkook’s shoulder amicably so the youngster would be assured that leaving them alone was okay.
Namjoon reached for Angie’s hand on her lap and she turned to him. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah,” she assured him with a quick smile.
“Did I hurt you?”
“No.”
“But you just said you’re uncomfortable moving.”
He was fully leaning into her now, fixed on her glistening eyes and quite alienated from the rest of the party.
“Yeah, I am with him.” She underlined with clear aversion before her features softened. “I would be comfortable with you, however.”
He smiled and it reached his heart. His dimples were showing.
“I can’t. Too many eyes.”
“It’s just a dance.” Her smile was fading as she understood what was happening.
“I doubt I could keep my hands off you.” His mouth spoke faster than it should have, but it was truthful. He was nothing but himself, he was confident.
“I wouldn’t want you to.”
Their eyes were locked as they let the silence surround them. His hand was still holding hers on her lap, he was definitely too close not to be obvious to any bystander and life… He only had the one.
“When are you leaving?”
“The day after tomorrow.”
He nodded with a sad smile, he only could have hoped.
“Would you… have time to be with me?”
He was caressing her hand before he looked up to her eyes.
She was grinning, “Hyejin is leaving on her honeymoon tomorrow. I have all the time in the world until Monday.”
He nodded, “Then stay with me.”
240 notes · View notes
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kim namjoon my beloved
other members :
yoongi
hoseok
jungkook
taehyung
seokjin
jimin
669 notes · View notes
mykoreanlove · 19 days
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my only one
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Your engagement party was a full blast - the pittoreske venue was filled with the people you loved most. Everybody was dancing, drinking and celebrating your upcoming wedding.
You had been shaking firm hands and giving out heartfelt hugs all night long, so you snuck out onto the balcony to take a break.
The balcony was covered in golden fairy lights, slightly illuminating the breathtaking view in front of you.
You didn’t turn around as you noticed the door open, you had a gut feeling who it would be.
Strong arms hugged you from behind and a raspy voice whispered in your ear - your home had found you.
„Hey“, he whispered, „you okay?“
You nodded silently and grabbed his arm, squeezing lightly.
„Am now“, you smiled.
Namjoon chuckled and hid his face in the crook of your neck, resting silently for a moment or two.
„You know… you can still say no.“, he stated nervously.
You laughed out loud, filling his ear with the vibration of your amusement.
„Now why would I do that?“
Namjoon hugged you even tighter, merging into one once more.
„So you really mean it, huh?“
„Joon, you’re stuck with me. Forever.“
„Forever? Really?“
„Yes, you dumbass, forever. Were you really doubting?“
He let out a deep sigh, as if he was finally releasing the anxiety he carried in his heart.
„It’s just that sometimes I feel like this is too good to be true. You’re too good to be true, y/n.“
You pushed his head back gently and turned around, looking up into his saddened eyes.
„Listen up, big boy. I love you and you love me. It’s supposed to feel this good.“
You saw his cheeks redden, as he averted his gaze embarrassed. You reached for his big hands and squeezed them as tightly as you could.
„I’m not running away, Joon. I know you are the one for me.“
He turned to face you and smiled warmly.
„The one?“
Namjoon was a confident man, taking extreme pride in his talents and intellect but the slightest doubt could turn him into an anxious mess. Especially if the doubt was about you.
You nodded cheerfully, while making your point.
„When did you realize?“
„Pretty early on“, you said and turned around again, observing the beautiful landscape in front of you.
„Hey, wait. Tell me when! Please, y/n“, he whined into your ear as his arms found your waist again.
You let your head fall back against his broad chest and smiled, remembering those days fondly.
„Do you remember when we first met? How we used to be?“
He nodded.
„We were inseparable back then, always hanging out with each other or calling or texting. It felt like we were obsessed with getting to know each other“, you mused happily.
„That didn’t change“, he said as he left soft kisses on your neck.
„One time when we were on the phone we had a conversation that sealed the deal for me. From then on I just knew that I would marry you some day.“
„What did I say, baby?“
„Oh god, I can actually quote it. How lame am I?“, you laughed embarrassed.
„The lamest. But I love you for that“, he chuckled against your skin. „Now tell me.“
„You said you were proud of me. It was super random and I didn’t understand why. I had to ask for clarification.“, you reminisced.
„Wait, I remember that call.“
You stayed silent for a second, replaying the situation in your mind.
„I am proud of you because you’re doing so great, y/n. Eating your veggies. Drinking your water. Taking your vitamins. Going for walks. Taking care of your mind. Staying positive. That deserves all my proud, y/n.“, you quoted him.
Namjoon stood quietly behind you, already knowing where this was going.
„I didn’t tell you at the time but I was facing a lot of shit. A lot of heavy stuff that made my life a living hell. And I was not doing fine. At all. Taking care of myself, even the simplest things, were a heavy burden to me. But I was trying my best and yet somehow you caught that.“
You turned around once more and looked into his loving eyes, stroking his cheek as you exclaimed your love for him.
„You didn’t need me to articulate my pain. You just knew. It’s like you saw right through me and decided to stay anyway. To give me my time to come to you instead of pressuring me into telling you.“
Namjoon‘s eyes were filled with tears as he listened closely, this was the first time you ever spoke about it that candidly.
„You sensed the war within me and provided me with peace. To me, Joonie, there’s no greater act of love. And I promise to return that love every single day. If you let me.“
Namjoon wiped away the tears hastily, but you stopped him.
You reached up to him and kissed him, tasting his salty tears on his sweet lips. In this moment you were sure that this wouldn’t be the last time for salty kisses but you didn’t mind. As long as you got him by your side, you were good.
Your Joon. Your home. Your only one.
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httpjungkookcom · 2 years
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Please Don’t Go | JJK
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Pairing | Jungkook x Reader
Word Count | 12K
Genre | Spider-Man! Jungkook x Childhood Best Friend! Reader
Summary | Jungkook’s never kept anything from you, ever. Not even the time where he tripped and accidentally kicked your dog, or when he fucked the most popular girl in high school and couldn’t make himself cum (poor guy was embarrassed for weeks), or when he accidentally rubbed all of his acceptance letters in your face without realizing. To put it short, Jungkook is an open book to you. So when he suddenly disappears, there’s a lot to question. Even more to question when he finally gets back and won’t tell you anything, going as far to avoid you. You’re on a mission to figure it out, even if it kills you.
Index | Jungkook is so smart, but so stupid at the same time. Jungkook is not sly in the slightest. Kind of angst, fighting, arguing, bickering, etc. Criminal activity, it’s a Spider-Man fic. Injuries and mention of blood. College setting and age, reader and Kook share the same major. Some cute fluffy moments in between all of the action. Aunt Yoon is essentially Aunt May in the Marvel story line. 
A/N | Something kind of different than what I normally write, but I’m excited about it nonetheless!! It’s sad, cute, exciting, nerve wracking, etc. I also just love the concept of Spider Kook more than I can even explain. 
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All throughout your childhood years, you constantly swore that you could never truly hate Jungkook. The both of you grew up together, lived in the same apartment building with guardians that knew each other. You were always over at his apartment for annual holiday parties, or play dates (which you’re pretty sure was just babysitting because your parents worked so much.) Even in school, you both gravitated towards each other due to matching intelligence and thought processes. You can't recall a single school project that you’ve done without being partners with Jungkook, or at least in the same group. Sure, you two would play fight, argue, bicker back and forth about stupid things, or wrestle, but never truly get to a point where you hated one another. However, as you sit in class on the first day of class after break, you’re fuming. You swore you could never hate him in your entire lifetime, but right now, it’s pretty damn close. You can't think of a time where you’ve been this angry at Jungkook, face red as you fight off the urge to interrogate him to hell and back. 
“Hey, are you okay?” Jungkook’s voice calls softly from beside you, almost in a whisper as class begins. You don’t even answer him, simply glancing over before returning to stare down your syllabus as you struggle to control your thoughts. You genuinely can’t understand how he disappeared all summer without a single text, call, letter, email, anything before showing back up like nothing happened. Even when you went to his aunt's apartment to check up on him (he went back home for break), she simply told you Oh, he didn't tell you? He went on a summer trip, I don't remember all the details. Before sheepishly closing the door in your face. Jungkook never keeps anything from you, you’ve told each other almost everything, that’s just what best friends do. You honestly can’t help but feel hurt that he wouldn’t think to tell you about his 2 and a ½ month summer trip before leaving. “Are you mad at me…why are you mad at me?” 
“You disappeared all summer!” You mumbled, promptly being stared down by the professor and the few people around you. Finally looking at him dead on, you can’t help but notice that he looks almost completely different. It seems like he’s grown over the summer, both in muscle and height. The stupid science pun shirt that he used to wear religiously is fighting for its life, stitches straining around his bicep. If he flexed his arm, they would most likely bust apart. His hair is also much longer, dark brown locks being tucked behind his ears as he breaks eye contact with you, red face going back to his syllabus. “Why does it look like you’ve been eating steroids for breakfast and working out 24/7 during the past month? Seriously Kook, what is going on? You can’t just leave and not say anything before suddenly showing back up in the fall semester?” 
Now it’s his turn to take glances at you, mouth opening and closing a few times as he struggles to answer your questions. As you wait, his face only gets increasingly red as he stumbles for an answer. He's been dying to tell you everything, truly, but he’s just not allowed to. It’s not exactly a rule put in place, but he was warned extensively of the danger that comes with sharing his secret. If you were ever hurt or in danger because of him, he doesn’t think he could ever forgive himself. He definitely wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if he wasn’t able to save you. “I just, I can't tell you. Definitely not here, not now.” 
“Okay? So after school? Come over, I got lucky and my roommate isn’t gonna be home for a couple of months to study abroad.” You can feel your anger subsiding now as you talk to him normally, as if he didn’t disappear over the summer. Having him explain his disappearance while also hanging out for the afternoon almost feels like an instant relief to your summer long headache. “Also, we should see if the coffee shop still makes those sandwiches, like the little slider ones! We can stop by before we go to my-“
“Uhm…I can’t hang out after class today.” Jungkook states, almost so quietly you couldn’t hear him. He can already tell what you’re going to ask next, sinking down in his seat as if that will avoid your wrath. He feels horrible as you ask your next and final question for the day, stomach immediately dropping. 
“Why?” You’re genuinely curious. You can't remember any clubs that he’s in that take place on this day, nor any other school events. Maybe an orientation of some sort that you didn’t see on the announcements? Maybe he has a doctor appointment? 
“….I can’t tell you.” You're mad again. 
You ignore him for the rest of the morning class, promptly shoving your notebook into your bag when the professor ends class. As you prepare to walk to your next class, you want to scream as you realize Jungkook has an almost identical schedule to you. Curse the both of you for having the same major. Jungkook follows your routine, quickly packing before exiting the lecture room, also going to the same exact math. “Listen, I want to tell you! Really, I do! It’s just I can’t.” He tries to explain without giving too many details that would compromise his identity, especially in the middle of the campus. “I've been dying to talk to you all summer, I've really missed you, you know?” He pleads his case. 
“Kook, just leave me alone for now. Summer sucked because you just disappeared off the face of the Earth, and suddenly you’re just back like nothing happened. You didn’t even text me!” You mumble, sighing at nothing in particular as you finish your sulking. “I just need time to get over your sudden secret-ness from me.” A part of you wants to turn around and laugh with him, but you just can’t. It’s genuinely something that’s been bothering you and for some reason you just can’t get over it. Class goes by relatively uneventfully, the two of you barely talking. You soon come to realize that, without yours and Kook’s endless bantering, the day goes by extremely slowly. 
The day ends and much to your surprise, Jungkook is almost sprinting out to the parking lot as soon as your final class wraps up. You have nothing in you to catch up and follow him, simply walking to the coffee shop by yourself. This truly does suck more than you thought it would. 
While you and Jungkook were in the middle of a fight, you can’t help but become concerned as he slowly stops attending classes. He's barely ever in physical class anymore, maybe attending one day out of the entire week. Honestly, you’re unsure how he’s even still enrolled in the courses. Despite not attending often, you come to find out that he’s still enrolled, teachers constantly calling his name for attendance and getting silence instead. He's even dropped out of his clubs, which is even more concerning. Putting all of your pride aside, you decide to stop by his dorm after class today. You’re pretty sure he mentioned having a single room this year, no longer having a roommate for a bit. 
Knocking on the door hard, you only hear silence in the room. There’s not the slightest shuffles that would indicate someone getting up and walking over to answer. You don’t even hear anything playing, nothing but silence and the faint conversation of other students down the hall. “Kook, if you’re in there, I’m not mad at you. Can we please just talk for a bit? I’m worried about you.” You explain, fidgeting with your fingers as you stand in front of his door. “If you don’t wanna talk, just text me? Please, Kook.” Another period of silence passes before you’re leaving with your head down. 
Hi Aunt Yoon, did Kook happen to visit home? I haven't seen him a bit. 
Uhm, yes actually! He’s here right now.
Great! I’ll stop by, be there in a bit.
Next stop is his childhood apartment to check up on him. Aunt Yoon is quick to open the door on the first knock, a bright smile plastered across her face as she welcomes you into the apartment. It's the exact same as always, pictures plastered across all of the walls with little to no walk space left due to furniture. It's cozy. 
“Hi Aunt Yoon! I wanted to check up on Kook, I haven't seen him in a bit.” You smile, scratching the back of your neck as you stand in the middle of the walk way. She stares back at you for a few moments, not saying anything. 
“Uhm, he’s not here. He just left actually, right after…you texted me. Do you want a sandwich while you wait for him?” She smiles, going to the fridge to pull out one of the pre-wrapped sandwiches you and Kook always used to share when you were young. You quickly take it and thank her before realizing what she said exactly. 
You’re all types of confused now, never knowing Jungkook to be someone that seems to actively avoid seeing you. He's always come whenever you called, studied and hung around your apartment before heading home. You’re the same for him, the both of you being there whenever the other needed it. “He’s not…avoiding me? Is he?” You can feel your eyes begin to water. “He just hasn’t been coming to class recently after I got onto him. …I feel bad.”
“Oh no! No honey, it’s not like that. He just had something to do, that’s all.” Standing in the same exact spot, you observe Aunt Yoon, nervously rubbing and cracking her knuckles repeatedly. You raise an eyebrow at the behavior, pointing to her hands questioningly. “Oh, uhm. Kook told me about the little fight you guys are having, that’s all.” 
“It's just, it’s not even a fight. I'm just confused and he can’t explain anything to me.” You sigh, frustrated. “Do you mind if I wait here for him? I can go to his room if you’d like your space out here.” You mumble, slowly shuffling down the hall towards his room. Since you’ve been friends for so long, it’s not awkward being in his room so you have no problem just waiting around for him. You jump back as Aunt Yoon quickly cuts you off, slamming both palms on either side of the hallway walls. The confusion just doesn’t stop growing. You raise your eyebrows, lamely clasping the sandwich in front of you as you step back towards the living room. “Okay, uhm. Or I guess I can just wait out here for him.” You feel incredibly stupid as you plop down on the sofa, getting comfortable as you wait for him. 
Aunt Yoon is a nervous wreck, but she’s trying (and failing) to not show it to anyone. She almost died on the spot when Jungkook told her his secret, half voluntarily and the other half was a result of being caught with his mask in hand. She wanted to scream, cry, hold Jungkook in her arms, and scold him all at once. After a very lengthy talk at the dinner table, both of them sitting on opposite ends (awkward), she finally decided to let him continue his superhero side job. Despite her reluctance, she trusts Kook and made him promise he would try his best to be safe. Well, as safe as you can be when fighting criminals on the street. Aunt Yoon understands why you’re mad at Jungkook, but understands that it’s not her place to tell you. After making sure you sit down, she makes a beeline for his room, staring at the old spider suits that are currently laid out on the floor. Secretly, she pats herself on the back for her quick thinking, regardless of how messy the save was. 
“Uhm, Aunt Yoon? Do you know when Kook is coming home?“ You ask from the couch, feeling as if you weren’t allowed to move away from it without being ushered back. Your sandwich is still wrapped on your lap, feeling too awkward to open it. Silence fills the room once again as Aunt Yoon fights for an appropriate answer that’s not too alarming. 
“Uhm, usually around 11 these days. He’s been really busy recently.” She smiles, twirling her hair as a nervous habit as she soothes her anxiety. You quickly conclude that if you ask doing what, or why he gets home so late, you won’t get an answer. If anything, Aunt Yoon might have a nervous breakdown if you question her any further, so you decide to leave it. You nod at the answer, directing your attention to the sandwich that remains untouched. While Aunt Yoon is acting weird, she makes sure you’re comfortable in the living room before heading back to whatever she was doing before you showed up. Turning on the tv, getting you a drink, handing you a throw blanket for the couch. You settle in for the long wait, laying down and watching whatever plays on the tv. 
SPIDER-MAN SHOWS UP ONCE AGAIN TO SAVE THE DAY!! 
SPIDER MENACE IS ONCE AGAIN TERRORIZING CITIZENS OF SEOUL, SOUTH KOREA!! 
SPIDER-MAN IS A NEWLY FOUND HERO! 
ONCE AGAIN, UNKNOWN HERO REFUSES TO REVEAL IDENTITY. 
You quickly click away from the news channels. Truthfully, you have no opinion on the new hero that seems to be taking the entire country by storm. You’ve never had any interaction with him so far, so you genuinely haven’t been able to gauge who he is without the influence of biased news outlets. All you know is that there’s even a club for him at your university, the students all competing to get the best Spidey photo. Surprisingly, you drift off to sleep without realizing. 
You startle awake, heading a chorus of groans and crashing coming from down the hall. It doesn’t sound like Aunt Yoon, meaning Jungkook must’ve just gotten home. Weird, you didn’t hear the front door unlock and open. “Kook?” You call out, rubbing your eyes before making your way down the hall. Still half asleep, you knock on his childhood bedroom door. “Jungkook, is that you? Can we talk?” His door slowly opens, revealing a very disheveled and tired looking Jungkook. Seeing him for the first time in what feels like months is off putting, making you stumble over yourself for words that properly explain what you're trying to convey. “Uhm, hey. You uh, stopped showing up to classes and I got worried. And I went to your dorm and uhm, no one was there, heh. And dropped out of your clubs, and got home really late…” you're definitely rambling now. “I guess I wanted to check up on you to make sure you’re alright.” 
Jungkook is at a loss for words. “No, yeah, I'm alright! I've just been really busy with stuff outside of school. Personal stuff. Uhm, how have you been!?” He’s trying to desperately change the subject, flashing his signature bunny smile as his last card. It almost works, almost, until you spot the cut he’s currently sporting across his brow. 
“Kook…what is going on?” You mumble, reaching out to hold his head before he has a chance to back away from you. You catch it just in time, pushing his hair back that he was using to hide it. It’s a deep cut, blood soaking his hair and brow. It’s threatening to drip into his eye, making you quickly wipe it with your finger. Not showing up to class, coming home late, getting injured after coming home? You’re more confused than ever, stomach dropping to your feet as you can only think of the worst. “Are you street fighting?” You mumble, grabbing tissues as you wipe some of the blood away. 
“No! No, of course not!” He pulls your wrists away, giving his brow one hard wipe before throwing away the tissues. Seeing you so worried about him makes his stomach lurch, threatening to spill every single secret that he’s kept from you so far. “Shouldn’t you be getting home? It’s almost midnight and everything.” He smiles, once again changing the subject. 
“You're kicking me out now. Please Kook, I’m not mad at you anymore, I'm worried about you. And the more I try to find out what’s going on the more and more I'm worried!” You're fighting back tears now, trying increasingly hard to keep your resolve in front of him. “Even Aunt Yoon is acting weird! Acting like I'm some stranger that you guys have never met before. Blocked me off from going into your room like I was some stranger, did her nervous hair twirling and knuckle cracking, and didn't know what to say when I talked to her. Now you, disappearing from everything with barely any explanation! Never being at the university and coming home all beaten up! I didn’t even hear you come in through the front door which is weird, you always make so much noise.” You ramble, becoming more frustrated as Jungkook can only stare at you wide eyed. His heart is beating erratically in his ears, wanting nothing more than to wrap you in a hug and explain everything to you. He hasn’t seen you this upset in years, tears threatening to fall down your cheeks. 
“Please, Y/n.” Jungkook mumbles, letting his head drop as he avoids making eye contact. “I wish I could tell you. Here, you can sleepover tonight and tomorrow we’ll both drive back up to the university-” 
“Just tell me! Whatever it is there’s no way it can be that bad, we’ve known each other since we were toddlers. Kook….please. Don’t make me worry like this.” Tears are slowly streaming down your face, voice wavering with every word you speak. Your lips threaten to let out sobs in between each word, fighting them back to keep your resolve and tone. Regardless, your resolve isn’t enough to get Jungkook to tell you anything. He continues to avoid eye contact as he talks once again. 
“Y/n, please. Let’s just go to sleep.” 
Your stomach falls to your feet, heart feeling as if it were about to jump out of your throat. In a flurry, you can only say the first thing that comes to mind. 
“I hate you Jungkook.” 
The hurt is evident all across his face, shoulders slightly flinching from your cold statement. He's completely unprepared, staring back at you like a deer caught in a car's headlights. He's never heard you say those words with any true meaning, only jokingly a couple of times. Hearing them makes his heart beat increase, hands instinctively reaching out to pull you towards him. As he gently grabs your shoulders, you jerk out of his grasp and back up towards the door. 
You can't take it anymore, spinning fast on your heels and almost running out of the apartment. A part of you wants to scream at Jungkook, the other cries into his arms as he comforts you. You decide that neither one is appropriate and going to your car to cry is likely your best option. Ignoring him as he follows you out, mumbling excuses to the best of his ability, you make it out of his apartment in record time. It feels like you’ve just lost Jungkook entirely, sobs wracking your entire body as you shuffle through the building stairwells. You could help him, you’re sure of it, if he would just let you. You’ve never not been there when he’s struggled in the past, and seeing him block you out feels like betrayal. You’re defeated entirely as the cool night air envelops you, continuing your pity party late into the night. 
After maybe three hours, the rational part of your brain forces you out of the driver seat of your car and back up to Jungkook’s apartment. You’re about to knock when it’s ripped open, causing you to flinch away. “God, Kook!” You mumble, eyes wide as you stare at him. “You scared the shit out of me! Listen, I won’t ask about it anymore tonight. I’ll leave it alone.”
“C'mon, let’s go to sleep Y/n.” Jungkook calls softly, pulling you underneath his arm and into the apartment. He easily leads you to his room, handing you clothes to change into. You want to continue arguing with him, but you just can’t. You change in the apartment's small bathroom, tired body shuffling into his bed. “You need to cry?” Jungkook chuckles softly as he takes his place next to you, pulling your body close to his chest.
"...Yeah." Jungkook knows you extremely well, and now is not any different. He comforts you in one of the only ways he knows how, which is physical affection. It's always been a staple of Jungkook's personality, his love language being physical touch once he's comfortable being around you. Your face is shoved into the soft cotton of some stupid science shirt, tears soon to be stained into it. "Kook, why were you still awake?"
"Just thinking about things, couldn't fall asleep." That makes you cry, Jungkook letting out a small chuckle at you before wrapping you tighter in his arms. He makes sure you're comfortable, yanking the blankets over the both of you and making sure you have at least one pillow. You bury your face into his shirt, allowing yourself to get everything out (as much as possible without snot dripping everywhere.) Jungkook comfortingly rubs your back every now and then while playing with and stroking your hair. "It's alright, Y/n. I understand why you're upset."
"It’s okay Kook, we don't have to talk about it." You state, voice muffled by his chest. "I’m sorry for keeping you awake, and being a bitch to you in class." Over the course of the night, your positions swap as you take Jungkook in your arms. While he won't explicitly say it, you know he needs it just as bad as you do. Holding him, the both of you fall asleep like that. 
You're not sure what time it is when you wake up, quickly realizing what tore you out of your sleep. In your arms, Jungkook is visibly strained, face scrunched together as he jostles slightly in your hold. You quickly realize that it's not going to go away as he continues to become more distressed. "Kook, Jungkook wake up." You begin to shake him lightly, hoping he'll just wake up without much trouble. It takes much more effort to actually pull him out of his sleep, his head jerking as you shake him awake by his shoulders.
He wakes up with a start, his eyes shooting open as he lurches into a seated position. He’s breathing extremely hard, almost panting as he scans around the room widely. "Hey, hey, Kook. It's okay, it was just a dream. you're okay, you're safe." His attention is quickly turned to you, eyes still wide as he takes in your presence.
"Are you okay? You're not hurt?" He mumbles, reaching out and grabbing ahold of your arm hard, not allowing you to jerk away. Carefully, as if his dream were real, he turns it over as if he were looking for an injury.
"Yes, I'm fine, Jungkook. It was just a dream, a nightmare." You mumble, opening your arms and beckoning for him to lay back down. Slowly, as if you were lying to him, he finally lays back down with you. Whatever he dreamed about has him shook up deep into his bones, his arms holding you as close as he possibly could. 
Waking up is no easier, feeling just as shitty as you did last night but now even more tired. Your eyes are red and puffy, lips chapped from crying throughout the night. Despite driving back to the university together, Jungkook avoids you like the plague for the entire week. He sits as far away from you as he can without making it obvious. He makes sure to leave the lecture halls immediately after the bell rings so there’s no chance you two will be stuck awkwardly walking next to each other. You’re beyond frustrated and sad from them on, slowly becoming strangers with Jungkook. You two never thought this would happen. 
Genuine misery wracks your entire body as you walk through the nightlife of Seoul, streets busy as people start their weekend early on Friday night. Your shoulders brush every now and then with strangers, which you’re quick to usher apologies to avoid any confrontation. A particularly harsh brush sends you down, falling flat on your ass as you groan in pain. Immediately, pain shoots up your hands and into your wrists, absorbing your fall. It feels as though your tailbone has been broken as you pathetically muster your strength to stand up straight. “You should really watch where you’re going!” You don’t make eye contact, simply rolling your eyes at the angry citizen. 
“Yeah yeah, I know.” You mumble, immediately being caught by the wrist at the end of your statement. Panic begins to flow throughout your entire body, heart rate speeding up so much you can almost hear it. “Let go of me.” While you try to sound confident, your voice comes out frail as you stare at the man in front of you. Your legs feel as though they’ve gone numb, every sense in your body telling you to get out of there. “I said, let go!” You muster up a bit more courage as you try to pull your arm away to no avail. This proves to be counterproductive as the man easily catches your other arm in his grasp. Tears well in your eyes as you finally get a clear look at the man, nothing short of a stereotypical petty criminal. Your skin crawls as he eyes you up and down, stopping to think. 
“Just for that comment, you owe me your wallet.” He grins, making your stomach flip in circles. Is your wallet really worth getting the shit beat out of you? No, no it’s not. But as your ears ring with the sound of your heart beat, not a single coherent thought is happening in your head right now. Involuntarily, you scream as he pulls you closer, making some sort of attempt to pat down your pockets for your wallet. You can’t help but continue to scream, trashing in his hold as he searches your body, copping cheat feels wherever he can. Tears stream down your face, mind going into overdrive as it uses the last bit of intelligence to kick your attacker in his dick. 
Immediately, his hands are off of you and he hunches over. Taking the opportunity, you make a break for it, getting just around the street corner before he’s taking off after you. “Man…c’mon.” Is the only thing you hear before the footsteps stop, instead the silence is filled with the man’s complaints. I wasn't even doing anything, we were just messing around, get your webs off of me, you have no right to do this, I'm suing you for misconduct, I'll kill you as soon as I get free! “Didn't your mother ever teach you manners?” There’s a faint sound of webs being strung, causing you to slowly make your way over to the complaint train. “And just like that…another one for the cops.” The man is incredibly satisfied with his web building ability, taking one final measure as he shoots a glob over the attacker's mouth, finally silencing him. 
“…Spider-Man?” For some reason, you’re incredibly surprised despite him being all over the news for months now. While you’ve heard everyone talking about him, you’ve never actually seen him in person, never caring to track him down. His suit is much darker than what it looks like in the pictures, making you wonder if it’s the lighting or if he's had a costume update. With the entire suit, you can’t tell any sort of distinguishable features besides the fact that he’s ripped in almost every aspect. The only other feature that you’re able to pick up on right away is his extremely young sounding voice. “Uhm, thank you. For uh, webbing him to the wall?” The disheveled looking man is definitely cocooned to the wall, completely defeated as he waits for the cops to show up. 
“Oh, it’s no problem! It’s what I do, your-“ He’s ready to deliver his famous, personally selected, catchphrase. He’s even gone to the extent of placing his hands on his hips, getting ready to puff out his chest and stand tall as he speaks. 
“Friendly neighborhood Spider-Man, yeah, yeah, we know.” An outside voice chimes in, making you burst into laughter. His chest immediately falls and his posture falls a bit, hands going to point at the said heckler that ruined his moment. 
“Hey, that wasn’t very nice!” The spider in front of you calls out, which just makes you laugh more. He's standing up straight now, but has no real intention of going after the grumpy eavesdropper. Without even trying, he’s funny. 
“If you really want, you can do your little saying. I'll listen to it.” You giggle, seeing him place his hands back on his hips as he recovers from his workout that stringing the man up turned out to be. He looks incredibly boyish as he stands in thought for a brief moment, almost snapping back into reality as he remembers the situation. Doing a quick double take, he glances back at the man before looking at you once again, before taking another small glance over his shoulder to ensure your attacker is still on the wall. 
“Uhm, do you mind if I use your phone? Gotta call the police, and uhm, my suit doesn’t have any pockets?” To add credibility to his claim, he’s running his hands along the suit to show you. After his display, he’s already walking towards you before you answer, taking your phone with a quick thanks before calling the police. He talks for maybe 1 minute max, the conversation being a chorus of “Hello, yes, Spider-Man, yes, 97th street, yes, ok, thanks.” After hanging up and handing your phone back, he seemingly kicks in his inspirational it’s gonna be ok, speech. “How are you feeling? I know that might’ve been a little scary for you, especially the whole, uhm, searching…your body.'' It's incredibly awkward as he tries to find a way to take back what he just said, gesturing to the air.
“You’re not very good at this, I think you should stick to webbing criminals.” You laugh softly, tone joking as you tease him. He seems embarrassed, more than likely flushed entirely pink underneath his mask. “Thanks for saving the citizens of Seoul once again, Spidey.” You giggle as you begin the walk home, quickly making the decision to take the well lit sidewalks. It’ll likely take 10 minutes longer, but you tell yourself that the 10 minutes will be worth it to avoid another almost mugging encounter. 
“Uhm, if you want, can I give you a lift home?” Spider-Man offers, jogging to catch up to you. The visual of Spider-Man running on foot to meet up with you is humorous for no reason. “Just so you get home safe! And you don’t have to worry about guys like him!” He covers as you eye him questioningly. After a little more teasing, you accept his offer. “Okay, so just stand next to me, ok, ok. And I'm going to hold you like this, is this ok for you?” You genuinely laugh as he hesitantly places his arm around your waist, nodding your head yes. “Alright, and you can hold around my neck, yeah, like that. Okay, so when we take off, you can either leave your legs like that, or wrap them, uh…around my waist. On the side! Like a toddler sits on someone’s hip, you know?” He’s genuinely trying to not make the situation in any way sexual or uncomfortable, but the constant explanations and stumbling is doing the opposite of his intended effect. 
“Yes, Spider-Man. I know what you mean. This won’t affect your webs or swinging, right?” If he’s holding you, that means he can only swing with one arm which is slightly concerning. “Like with only one arm, because if there's a chance I can fall, I'd rather walk all the way back home?” 
“Yeah! I'm a pro at swinging, you have no idea. Ready? I’ll show you.” Without even waiting for a response, he effortlessly shoots a web that sends the both of you flying up. After shifting down several inches as the both of you swung downwards, you quickly concluded that you were going to death grip Spider-Man's waist as he swung the both of you. It’s almost like a rollercoaster, that’s extremely high, and has no seat belts or safety procedures. Your adrenaline is pumping throughout your entire body, stomach rising and falling with each swing. To him, it seems like he’s on a leisurely walk in the park, nowhere near as fast as he normally swings when he’s in an emergency. 
“Can these things go any faster?” You laugh, pointing to the web shooters on his wrists. Glancing over at you, you’re sure he made a face behind the mask. 
“Faster?” You can almost hear him scoff as he questions you. You can’t help but laugh, nodding your head. “If you insist, climb onto my back.” While he’s swinging? He wants you to maneuver around him while he’s swinging 200 feet in the air? “Like a piggy back ride, don’t think about it too much. You can do it.” He slowly lets go of your waist, moving his arm forward so that you can easily slide onto his back. Every single survival instinct is screaming at you not to move, to which you ignore. 
“So now what?” You mumble. He has both of his arms in front of him, body (mostly) unrestricted to swing to maximum momentum. You quickly conclude that this is a horrible idea as he bends and extends his body to increase his speed. 
“We go faster.” He laughs at you, using both arms to sling himself as fast as possible. While he may seem like an absolute idiot when talking, the way he’s calculating every single move to maximize his distance, is astonishing to you. No move that he does is for nothing (besides the safety checks for you). It's an extremely energy and time efficient way of moving. In record time, you’re at the front of your dorm complex. “And….we’re here.” He smiles as he stands on the ground, easily holding your legs that remain locked around him. While you know he’s standing on solid ground, your legs remain in place as your brain fights to convince yourself it’s safe to get down. 
“Ok, let me just get down.” Your legs feel like jelly as they touch the ground, threatening to give out under your weight. “Thanks for the lift, I owe you some ramen next time, yeah?” You smile, shakily walking into your apartment building. 
“Hopefully there isn’t a next time!!” He calls out, and with that, he shoots off to go help another poor soul.
Maybe it was the adrenaline from your attacker, or from Spider-Man, or the pure survival instincts kicking in during the ride, but as you lay down in bed, a realization washes over you. You never even told Spider-Man where you were going to…
Ever since that day, you almost unconsciously find yourself wandering around alone. To be honest, you weren’t looking for trouble and had no intention of getting into any that may become a safety risk. However, a part of your subconscious wants nothing more than to run into the red and blue masked superhero that roams the streets. So maybe…just maybe, if trouble comes your way it won’t be the end of the world. Your feet shuffle as you walk, every now and then kicking a rock along the sidewalk. 
“If I didn’t know any better, I'd think you’re looking for trouble…” A voice calls out from above you, instantly causing a giant smile to spread across your face. Glancing up, it’s the same masked boy that you’ve been wandering the streets to catch even a glimpse of. Despite having his mask on, it looks like the fabric is smiling down at you. 
“If I didn’t know any better, I'd think I have a little spider stalker following me.” Your smile is almost uncontrollable as he comes down, walking down the street with you. “Plus, I still owe you that ramen right?” You look incredibly ridiculous as the both of you walk into the restaurant, standing awkwardly as the staff whisper back and forth to each other. Spider-Man has got his signature, I’m a superhero, pose going on that it almost makes you laugh at him. 
“What, what’s so funny, why are you giggling?” He’s leaning over slightly, trying to whisper to you as you continue to fight off your urge to laugh. “Are you laughing at me??” 
“No, no.” You can't even look over at him, because you know the moment you do you’ll burst into laughter. Subtly, you begin to get into the same exact pose as him to see if anyone notices. This includes, placing your hands on your hips, widening your stance to about shoulder width, and standing perfectly straight with your chest puffed out. Even now, you’re still fighting back laughter as the staff continue to take glances at the two of you. “Do I look familiar?” You whisper, watching as he slowly turns around to look at you fully. As he analyzes, you can’t help but begin to laugh. 
“Hm…no. Not really?” 
“I'm you!” 
“What!? That’s not how I stand!” 
“This is exactly how you stand!” 
“I do not look like that.” 
“We could literally be twins right now, just give me your mask.” You laugh, finally dropping the pose as your ramen comes out. “You know, I really can’t tell if you’re smiling under your mask. So if you are straight faced this entire time, this is awkward.” You laugh, walking out of the restaurant with a bag of takeout. You both decide where to eat, sitting down with the bag in between you. 
And by “you both decide where to eat,” Spider-Man immediately proposes that you go to a rooftop. He easily takes you to one of the tallest buildings, your stomach churning as your feet touch the roof and you immediately sit down where you two landed. “This is fun, but we should go by the ledge. We can see the entire city from up here.” He’s more than excited, easily walking over to the side and sitting down, feet hanging. You’re distraught as he webs the bag, yanking it over to him with no effort at all. Pathetically, you crawl over to the edge and make some sort of attempt to sit in the same manner he is. “Uh, if you want, I can web you…not like restraints. But like a seatbelt.” 
“Actually…I would like that a lot. Please do.” You nod your head up and down, lifting your arms to allow him to secure your lap to the building. If the both of you can swing from skyscraper to skyscraper with these webs, you at least know they’ll hold you in place. He easily humors you once again without trying, pulling the mask to just above the tip of his nose to allow him to eat the noodles he’s picked up. “You know, if I knew who you were, I'd be able to tell from just this part of your face. So hiding your eyes isn’t exactly foolproof.” You laugh, quickly looking at his lips and half exposed cheeks. Your stomach flips as you quickly change to subject. “You know the city is a lot more safe with you around.”
“Yeah? I’m really glad to hear that.” He smiles, and you wonder if he’s actually that dumb. Or maybe he thinks you’re dumb and won’t put 2 and 2 together. “Everyone used to hate me, you know?” He laughs, shaking his head as he continues to eat. You don’t say anything, knowing that he’s going to continue once he’s done. “Newspapers tore me up every single day, I think I headlined at least 6 out of 7 days a week.” He laughs, “I guess you could say I'm pretty famous.” 
“Yeah, you definitely are famous. You’re so famous you’re becoming a tourist attraction.” You giggle, thinking about how you’re seen various people come to Seoul to see Spider-Man at work. You’re sure the state gets insane tourism money from it, along with the city already being a well known area. “Seoul’s one and only, web slinging hero, Spider-Man!” You laugh, announcing your made up head line in an overly enunciated and perfectly clear tone. He laughs at the lame joke, shoving the rest of the noodles in his mouth. “We should probably get going, Arachne. It’s getting late and I'm sure you’ll be busy as it gets later.” 
He nods to your final statement, reaching over to your lap. “I'm gonna take these off, alright?” You nod, allowing him to easily rip through them. Almost cat-like, he easily stands up on the edge with perfect balance, reaching down and offering you stability as you climb to your feet. “Freaking out?” He laughs at you, watching as you screw your eyes shut and refuse to look down. 
“Yes, yes. Let’s just swing, get going.” Spidey asks you if you want his side or back, to which you heavily weigh the benefits of both. Taking a small peek at the sheer height, you decide that the back is definitely a better option since you’re able to cling onto him tighter. “Are you just going…to jump down? And like free fall!?” You regret every decision you made that has led up to this moment. 
“Yes, until I get closer to the ground.” He can already tell you’re about to back out entirely, most likely take the elevator all the way down. While he would still accompany you, he’d much rather not wait forever to descend the 50+ floors. “Listen, you can do this, ok? All you have to do is jump onto my back and hang on as tight as you want. You don’t even have to look, alright? Just close your eyes and we’ll be done in no more than a minute.” 
He talks you into it, but not without feeling like you’re going to pass out. At least if you pass out, it’s with Spider-Man who is more than capable of pulling you back in order to catch you. “Ok, ok. This will be fine.” You persuade yourself, taking the smallest hop humanely possible and quickly situating yourself on his back. It feels like you’re falling faster than scientifically possible, hurtling towards the ground at an alarming speed. 
You’re about 90% sure you’ve busted Spider-Man's ear drums at this point, shoving your face in the crook of his neck while screaming. Your arms and legs are locked tight around him, so much so you’re surprised you haven’t choked him out yet. (Which would be bad, because if you pass out he’ll save you. If he passes out, you’re both goners.) As he easily thrusts a wrist in the air and begins swinging close to the ground, your arms fly up to his head as you try to find a better hold. 
“THIS IS THE WORST, I'M CALLING THE BUGLE LATER TODAY!!!” You scream, slamming your eyes shut as he narrowly avoids buildings. “I'M TELLING THEM YOU TRIED TO KILL ME!!” 
“WHAT ARE YOU EVEN SAYING!!” He screams back, trying to find his way through the lit up streets. “I CAN'T SEE, I CAN'T SEE ANYTHING!!” 
You’re completely unaware that you are, in fact, clasping your hands over his eyeballs. 
 You’ve never hated anything more, from the moment he allowed his body to fall off the side (back first, so you were closer to the ground) all the way to when your feet touched the floor at your dorm. “That was horrible, if you ever convince me to free fall again I’m going to throw up all down the back of your suit.” You vaguely threaten, slowly climbing off. 
He laughs at you, standing in the same spot as he waits for you to safely make it inside. For some reason, leaving is different now. You’re torn as you stare at him, stomach flipping in uncertainty. “Hey…be safe, alright, people care about you.” You mumble, quickly going back for a hug. Most likely catching him off guard, it takes him a couple of moments to actually hug you back. It's a comfortable, extremely familiar hug. “Don’t do anything too stupid, now.” You laugh, pulling away and actually going into your apartment. Spider-Man says something along the lines of I’d never think of it before swinging away. 
Walking past Jungkook’s hall, your feet instinctively pause in front of the doorway. You finally understand. You understand Kook being so secretive, you understand why Aunt Yoon was so nervous that day, cracking her knuckles at every opportunity and refusing to let you past the living room. As you settle in for the night, everything begins to make more sense. The confusion you’ve had for over a month is suddenly gone, your head eventually connecting every missing piece. 
You’re unsure of what to do about the newfound information, but for now you relax feeling slightly relieved now that you’ve figured it out. Jungkook has been acting so strange lately because he’s been a completely different person, swinging around the city every night as the one and only Spider-Man. 
You can’t help but giggle slightly thinking to yourself. Pulling your phone out from your backpack, your finger hovers over Jungkook's contact name. Without thinking, you edit the information and add a little spider next to it. You decided to send Jungkook a quick text. It doesn’t even register to you that you both truly haven’t spoken face to face in days now. You’re hesitant for a couple of seconds, the endearing Jungkook 💜🕷 contact name urging you to make a decision. Regardless, you still message him. 
I almost killed spider man 
What? No wayyyyy
Would you still be friends with me if I murdered the most well known superhero in town? 
Absolutely not 
…Well, do you think that one loud news guy would’ve paid me? 
Jameson? Knowing that guy? He’d give you his first born child 
Smiling softly to yourself, you finally allow yourself to drift off to sleep. 
You’re woken up out of your sleep by loud pounding coming from your window, a series of coughs and grunts accompany the noise. In a panic, your body shoots out of bed, catching the smallest glimpse at the figure in your window. Just as you’re about to sprint out of the room, you catch a small flash of red and blue. Hesitantly, you walk over to get a better look. Sure enough, the web slinging hero is standing outside of your window. Confused, you begin to pull open the window. “What are you doing here?!” You whisper, glancing back to your door to make sure no ears are around. “It's almost 5 am!” 
“I just…need your help.” He groans, climbing past you and into the room. As he stands on both feet, his body haphazardly falls to the ground, a loud crashing accompanying it. On the ground, he begins to cough and groan as he holds his body wherever he can. 
“Oh my god! Are you okay?” Panic sets in even more as you drop to your knees, pulling his head into your lap as you fight to get a response from him. Extremely slowly, he nods his head. 
“I just…got caught a few too many times. I just…need to rest, my body heals pretty fast.” He’s talking extremely slowly, mind seemingly not thinking as he attempts to explain what happened to him. You can barely follow along with the story, something about not seeing the blade before the fight ended. At the end of his explanation, he quickly adds But I totally won, don’t get me wrong. Webbed him up and came straight over. At the explanation, you fight tears back, looking anywhere else in your room but him. 
“Hey, was this too far? Did I overstep our friendship?” He laughs softly, placing both of his palms on the ground before making an attempt to get up. You assume he was going to leave your room, refusing to let him do so. You easily hold him in place, the injured boy not having the energy to fight you. 
“You really must think I’m stupid, Kook.” You laugh, tears beginning to fall which you quickly wipe away. “Like, really really stupid.” 
“Kook? Who’s that?” 
This only makes you laugh harder, his voice easily giving away his blown cover. He's surprised, to which he quickly tries to play it off and act cool. “Please…don't make this harder than it already is.” You begin to reach for the edge of his mask, wrists quickly being caught by his hands and immediately stopping you. As he grabs your hands, you only now realize the wounds he was covering, blood smearing onto you from his hands. 
“You…you didn’t tell me he actually got you! I thought you said you were just tired and couldn’t swing anymore!” Tears immediately begin to fall down your face, body jumping up. “Stay here! I swear, if you disappear I'll come find you!” You’re almost full on sobbing now, sprinting to the bathroom to dig for your first aid kit. It’s slightly small and only has the basics, but you hope it’ll be enough to help him at least. “Change into this, please?” It’s a pair of shorts and a random t-shirt that he’s left behind from your guys countless sleepovers. 
“I really shouldn’t, I just need to rest.” 
You refuse to let him go that easy, insisting that he change. Trying his best to keep whatever secret he thinks he’s still hiding, he makes every excuse to dodge taking off his mask. Listen, I’m hideous underneath this mask! I have to conceal my identity, if you went and told people I'd be in a lot of trouble. Also, if you knew my identity, it could paint you as a target for criminals. Only 1 other person knows who I am, it’s critical for it to be top secret. You can't take off my mask, it’s a part of the suit. No! It doesn’t come off at the neck. No! Get away! 
“Jungkook, stop.” He is trying to crawl away from you without getting any blood on the carpet, using his feet to push himself around on his back. “First, it was disappearing and not showing up to class anymore. Then coming home beat up every night. Then when you took me home after saving me, you didn’t even ask where we were going. You just slung your webs and took me to my dorm complex. And when I bought us ramen earlier, I saw your face. You think I would miss the scar on your cheek and freckle underneath your lip? And even tonight, you happen to come to my exact window and climb in, without even knowing me?” 
“Uhm, it was just a lucky guess, the window bit.” He mumbles, having no other explanation for your other points. He knows he can’t win, finally defeated and his secret laid out on the table for you to judge. 
“Please just change so I can clean your cuts, please.” He’s about to make another excuse, you can see his mouth opening, mumbling out a small My identity is top secret- before you’re cutting him off. Your heart is racing, sobs and tears streaming from you at a pretty steady rate. Your hands shake as you hold onto him, gripping the front of his suit in your fists. “I told you to be safe, Jungkook! I told you not to do anything stupid! You said you’d be safe tonight! You NEVER listen, and now you���re bleeding out on my floor, KOOK PLEASE.” Your hands shake as you hold onto his suit, eventually moving to pull him closer to you. Holding his injured body, you shake and sob as he slowly wraps his arms around you. Every now and then, you can feel him heave as he fights back the urge to cry into you. 
Slowly, you release your death grip on him, almost afraid he’d disappear the second you let go. Making another attempt at his mask, he lets you this time.
“I'm really sorry for this.” He mumbles, a few small coughs following his statement. Your eyebrow raises, hands just barely grazing the fabric of the mask. Before you can even react, a web is wrapped around your wrist before being easily shot towards your bed. Without even having time to think, your body is yanked backwards by the momentum of the web. “I gotta go…”
“Jungkook, this isn’t funny. Take this off.” You state, yanking hard against it as you try to reach where his body lies on your floor. You can feel your bed slide a few inches forward as you try to get to him. “Kook, I'm serious this isn’t a joke. Take it off!” Horror crosses your face as he plants his hands down, using the last of his strength reservoir to push himself up. Slowly, he hobbled back towards the window before carefully climbing out onto the fire escape. From afar, you can see the red spots bleeding through this spandex. 
“I'm really sorry, those will last about an hour.” He apologizes, limping over to the railing. “If anyone comes in to check on you, you can just hide them underneath your blankets. I'll see you around.” 
“JUNGKOOK! DON'T!” You're full on screaming at this point, tears engraving their path down your face. You’re frustrated and scared, almost afraid he’ll go to jump off the side of the building and not be able to recover. “PLEASE! STAY! I'LL DO ANYTHING. DON'T GO OUT, YOU'RE TOO WEAK RIGHT NOW.” You're screaming from the top of your lungs, pulling so hard on the web it feels as if you’ll dislocate your shoulder. Your wrist is aching from the tension, which you ignore it all. “PLEASE STAY, PLEASE STAY. I'LL COME FIND YOU IF YOU GO! I WILL, I SWEAR I'LL COME AFTER YOU!” 
Your bed is now displaced a considerable amount, sitting almost directly in the center of the room. Your wrist is red and strained, shoulder pulled taught and about to snap at any moment if you continue to fight it. You don’t have a couple of hours to wait for this web to dissolve, you have to get to him now. “KOOK! Please, just come here. Please, I'm begging you. You're too hurt right now, you have to stay with me. Please Jungkook, I'm scared! Please don’t go, don’t leave me here!” 
At your pleas, his feet stop their movements. You can see his internal debate. “Y/n, you can’t tell a soul. I mean it, I really do!” 
“Okay, okay, done. I won't say a single thing. Please just get down.” At your promise, he clumsily hops down from the railing, making his way over to you. “Please, just come here.” You open one arm that’s free, wrapping it around Jungkook's torso as soon as he’s in reach. You’re quick to yank him down to your level, wrapping your single free arm as much as possible around his body. A small chuckle leaves him before he’s ripping through the web that still retains you. “I was scared Kook, that scared me.” You mumble into his shoulder, pulling him as close as possible. 
He lets you hold onto him, body almost laying across your lap as you hold his torso and head. “I was scared that if you jumped down from the building, you’d be too tired to shoot a web to hold yourself, or too tired to stick to the wall.” 
“It scares me to hear you cry like that.” He mumbles, pulling back just slightly to place a hand on your cheek. Ignoring the wetness that you feel, both on your cheek and body, you smile into his hand. 
“Please, let me clean the blood off you. And bandage them. You’ll bleed out.” You ask, “And let me take the mask off.” 
He finally nods his permission. your fingertips easily find the edge where the two seams meet, wedging your thumbs underneath the mask and easily pulling it up and over his head. He looks worn out, eyes threatening to close as blood drips onto his face. He's sporting a few bruises mixed with a busted brow and lip, where he got hit particularly hard. His cheek looks bad, a pretty long cut prominent. There’s a few tear steaks, (whether they’re from pain or your small breakdown is unknown.)
“Here I am.” He says lazily, eyes closed as you hold his head in your hands. 
“Jungkook, you have to stay awake. For now, just open your eyes, please.” You mumble, searching for the extra clothes. You have to peel him out of his suit basically, blood making it almost like a wet suit onto his skin. Jungkook is more worried about the holes in the suit more than his skin, quickly reassuring him that you could sew them up. He nods, laying on the floor in nothing but a small pair of shorts. “This is going to hurt like a bitch, Jungkook.” You sigh, taking the sterile gauze and beginning to apply pressure to his still bleeding cuts. 
His body stiffens under your hands, small grunts filling the room from the pain. You have to repeat this process multiple times, stomach doing flips as you fight back the urge to puke. Seeing him in so much pain makes your eyes water, you almost have to hold him down as he writhes from it. And by almost, you basically have him pinned down underneath you. You’re currently using one hand to apply pressure to the gashes, the other is holding his bicep down, and one of your feet is placed on his opposite thigh to stop him from jumping away. ”It'll be okay, just try and stay still. I got you, Kook.” After they slowly stop bleeding, you begin running sterile gauze with water over the dried blood. Slowly, it eventually looks less and less like a murder scene. “Please talk to me, Jungkook. Maybe it’ll take your mind off it.” 
“I’m sorry for scaring you like that.” A tear falls down the side of his face, your hand instinctively reaching out to wipe it away. ”I know you’re worried about me, Y/n.” Jungkook mumbles, hand finding your side and doing his best to wrap it around you. “I understand, I really do. But I can't stop doing it, they need me.” 
“I wasn't going to ask you to stop.” You answer, voice low and wavering slightly as you slowly stop crying over his injuries. As they get cleaned up a bit, you’re slowly able to calm down. “I just want, no need. I need you to be careful, Kook. Because if I lose you….I just. I won’t know- I won't know how to live after that.” You cry, head falling forward, causing your foreheads to push softly against each other. He understands your concern, rubbing your back comfortingly as you collect yourself. As you cry, his other hand finds your cheek to wipe the tears that slowly fall. 
He hates seeing you this upset, hates it even more that it’s because of him. As he comforts you, his eyes water and threaten to spill over as he fights it away. After a bit, you’re able to pick your head up and resume, beginning smearing ointment over the cuts. To fill the silence in the room, he begins talking again. “You know, when I was fighting towards the end I started realizing how much he got me. I started feeling all of the cuts and pain running throughout my body. And after I hung him against the wall, I instinctively came over here. I wasn’t even thinking about showing up as Spider-Man, wasn’t thinking about how obvious it would be that I knew where your window was. The only thought that was running through my mind was that I needed to see you.” He explains. You’ve been sniffling the entire time, ever since Jungkook jumped down from the rails after agreeing to stay. As he talks more and more, it feels like you’re only fighting harder not to cry. 
You’re not sure if this is supposed to make you feel better or worse, but your heart lurches. “I don't know if I wanted to see you for help, or see you to make me feel better. I just knew I had to get here, just in case something happened.” 
“Don’t say that, you’re gonna be okay, Kook.” You abruptly cut him off, voice loud compared to his small one. You apologize softly, going back to his wounds. He nods, trying to reassure you. 
“I'm already feeling better, Y/n.” He smiles, pushing himself up on his elbows to watch as you begin to bandage him up. You finish quickly, feeling nervous as he watches you. 
“You know it’s weird, the last words I could’ve ever said to you were I hate you.” You laugh sadly, helping him pull his shirt on. He looks adorable as he stares at you, sporting a big patch on his cheek that covers the cut. “You should probably get some rest, you know? You’re gonna be sore in the morning for sure. I’ll get you painkillers and make breakfast when you wake up.” You smile, ruffling his hair. 
“You’re right, can I borrow a pillow?” He asks, laughing lightly as he lays down on the floor. 
“No, get in bed. You need to actually sleep well.” You laugh, dragging him up by one of his arms. He's quick to protest, No, it’s okay. I don't need to sleep on the bed to be comfortable. Because then you’re going to sleep on the floor and that’s not fair, no, I won't. He’s fighting you like a toddler that refuses to walk, completely dead weight as you try to drag him. With a loud sigh, you let him go and walk over to the red and blue suit on the ground. “Get in the bed, or the suit gets it!” You threaten, holding a pair of scissors to the material. 
You genuinely laugh as his eyes widen, arms raising up. “Ok ok, take it easy now! Are those real scissors?!” 
“Yes they’re real scissors!” A giant smile is spread across your face as he jokes with you. 
“Oh no, real scissors are my weakness!!” He cries out, jokingly getting on his hands and knees. His hands stay in front of his face as he fake surrenders to your threats. Before you even realize what’s happening he’s shooting a web at you. It wraps around your wrist and will one hard tug, you’re tumbling towards him, suit and scissor falling out of your hands. “My suit is saved!” 
“You missed the scissors a bit, Kook.” You laugh as you lay in his arms that caught you. He also has a giant smile spread across his face, a much better look than when you first peeled off his mask. Your heart swells, ears burning as he continues to peer down at you. 
“I wasn’t aiming for the scissors.” He mumbles, making your face flush a bright red. Slowly, you almost miss it, you can feel him leaning into you. “Please, can I kiss you?” He asks softly, eyes flicking from your lips back to your eyes. It feels like you’re in a dream that you’ll wake up from, slowly nodding yes to his question. In a second, his lips are against yours, eyes falling shut. A small hum falls from you as you instinctively press closer to him, hands finding his hair. His hands find your sides, pulling you closer to him and into a sitting position. Easily, your lips spot together as if they were a perfect fit, breaths becoming heavy as you take one another’s air. You can taste the metallic on his mouth, confused for a moment before remembering his busted bottom lip. 
“Kook, you need to rest.” You breathe, voice airy as you catch it. You place a small peck onto his lips, holding his head in your hands. His eyes remain closed, head tilted up slightly at you. You massage his scalp with your fingertips, a slight hum filling the room as his hands hold you close. “Please, get some sleep.” You say, pressing one last kiss onto his forehead before you begin to climb out of his lap. 
“Fine, fine. But only for you.” He finally gives in, slowly climbing into bed. You giggle, pulling the covers up to his chin and beginning to tuck them in around his body. “This feels like a bit overboard now.” Jungkook states, causing you to laugh at him. 
“Shut up and close your eyes.” Finally tucking him in completely, you kiss him one last time before going about your tasks for the early morning. And by tasks, you mean the mess that Jungkook brought you. There’s small blood spots on your carpet, along with the soaking wet suit. As he gets rest, you work hard to repair what you can. The carpet is first, blood stains being vigorously scrubbed and cleaned until there’s no evidence they were ever there. Picking the suit off the ground, you’re almost afraid to ruin it. 
You decide that hand washing is probably the best bet, sneaking out of your room to retrieve laundry soap and head to the bathrooms. You pray to every god that no one is there, and that no one walks in on you. You try your best to be as silent as possible, red and blue suit not easily mistaken for possible onlooking eyes. Hand washing the suit is a challenge, the fabric feeling like it was 100 pounds once it soaked up water. The water is a murky and deep red, making you grimace. After the workout that rinsing and hanging the suit turned out to be, your next chore is figuring out how to sew up the holes. YouTube becomes your best friend, sorry Kook. You throw the suit haphazardly into a towel, lugging the still damp suit back. 
“Y/nnnnn…” You can hear Jungkook whining from your room just as you finish up your chores, immediately rushing to see if he’s alright. He remains in bed, still completely tucked in to his chin. “Come lay with me, it’s lonely and cold here. I wanna be held.” 
At his last statement, you can’t help but laugh at him. “You need to get some rest.” You answer, shoving more blanket underneath him. 
“I did, I just woke up from my nap. Come on.” He protests, untucking and opening the blankets up to you. Sighing, you take the invitation as you quickly come to your senses and aren’t gonna win this time. “What have you been up to?” He asks, raising an eyebrow at you. 
“Cleaning up your mess.” You smile, leaning back to fully look at his face. You can only catch a glimpse before he’s complaining, pulling you into his chest closer to him. You can’t help but smile, easily slotting yourself in between his arms. Your legs tangle together as the both of you get comfortable, using his bicep as your pillow for the time being. 
"Do you remember the last time we were like this?" Jungkook asks, a small chuckle following his question. Confused, you pull away slightly to give him a questioning look. "When I had a nightmare and freaked out on you? And kept asking you if you were ok?"
"Oh, yeah. Why are you thinking about that right now, Kook?"
"It was about you, you know?" He states, his voice wavering slightly as he recalls the nightmare. Your heart feels like it's about to break for the millionth time that morning. "I wasn't able to save you, I was too slow and you fell. It was so vivid, it felt so real. Y-you hit the ground and when I walked over to you, you weren't moving. It scared me, bad." You listen in silence, allowing him to finish whatever he had left. "And when you woke me up, that felt like a dream. Like the two somehow got switched and waking up next to you was the dream, and that's why I had to check your arm. It honestly scared me so bad, that I wanted to distance myself from you because I was just so afraid of it actually becoming reality."
"It's okay Kook, I promise it's not going to happen. The distancing thing though, that was kind of shitty of you." You joke, able to pull a small chuckle from him. "I'll always be here for you, Kook, whenever you need me to." 
"I'll always be here too, y/n. "
"Wanna hear some good news?" You smile, pushing yourself back into his chest as you get comfortable again. “I can proudly say your suit is fixed, ready for use once again. But not now, not until you heal. That's where I'm drawing the line.” You quickly add, to which he only laughs at you. Laying with him, you only now realize how much you’ve actually missed him these past few months.  
“You’re the best. What would I do without you.” He smiles, tilting his head down to place a kiss on top of your hair. He doesn’t say anything after that, allowing his chin to rest on top of your head as he drifts off to sleep once more. You spend the entire morning holding one another, somehow scared to lose each other yet soaking up the touch. It’s not until you feel moisture that you pull away from him, searching for it. 
“I have to change your bandages.” You sigh, slipping from his arms as you collect more supplies. Jungkook remains half asleep as you change the bled-through gauze, small hums the only reaction he gives you. Finally finished, a soft smile overtakes your face as he sleeps peacefully. Your hand finds his hair as you sit next to him, softly stroking his soft hair. 
“Hm?” Jungkook hums, peeling his eyes open slightly. 
“Nothing Kook.” You smile. “You can go back to sleep.”
“...Where did my shirt go?” He asks, glancing down at his bandaged chest. “If you wanted to see me shirtless that bad, you could’ve just said so.” He teases, hand jokingly grabbing your thigh. 
“Ugh, next time I'll let you bleed out.” You roll your eyes, slapping his hand away from you. Making breakfast (that Jungkook insisted on helping with) and getting him painkillers, the near-death scare is finally coming to an end. 
Jungkook’s with you, and he’s safe. You’re both on good terms again, more than good, and happy. Eating breakfast, the two of you unconsciously seek each other's touch. With legs tangled with one another underneath the table, and hands brushing more often than accidental, the two of you are finally content.
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seokjinsonlyone · 8 months
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this is how i think bts would be if you were in an on again off again relationship
a/n: i'd like to interrupt my regularly scheduled drought to drop off this headcanon that nobody asked for <333 lemme know what you thoughttttttt
namjoon:
"why do you let me treat you like this?" you asked, pushing at his chest forcing him to lay straight down.
“you don’t wanna be on top?” he asked brows furrowed, undoubtedly confused seeing as you were the one that climbed on top of him. he tried to sit up, but you kept your hands flat on his chest not allowing him to move.
“no. why do you let me treat you like this?” and you weren’t referring to the position at all. you were talking about the way he always let you back into his bed, back into his heart.
every time it didn’t work out with someone else, you’d call him and he’d answer every time. he would kiss you all over until it didn’t hurt any more and help you put the pieces of your heart back together. kept it safe for you until you were ready to give it out to someone else. and every time you walked away he let you.
here, now, sitting in his lap, in the exact position you’d been in countless times, a wave of deja vu so strong you couldn’t even pretend to ignore it any more passed over you. all lust abruptly replaced by confusion and the only thing running through your mind was why?
he gently removed your hands from his chest and sat up. a subtle reminder that he had more power than you realized. he kept you close to him his hand on your lower back, keeping your chest pressed against his, leaving you nowhere to look but right at him. "because i love you. and i want you. in any way you'll let me have you."
you shook your head fiercely. "you're too good, joon. you don't deserve any of this."
"then do better. be better. for me."
you opened and closed your mouth multiple times, left speechless at his suggestion. "i- i don't deserve any of this. i don't deserve... you," you concluded, eyes cast downward.
he tipped your chin back up. "you deserve everything. and more."
seokjin:
"i'm sorry. i didn't want to call you but..."
"it's fine, hobi, really."
"are you sure?"
you nodded giving him as kind of a smile as you could muster. "i can take it from here."
he pulled you into a hug anyway. you were grateful for it. it gave you a little bit of strength and lord knows you were gonna need it to deal with the drunken mess before you. "alright seokjin. come on. get up now. i'm here."
you couldn't keep in the giggle that slipped out as he popped up, the complete opposite of the dead weight he'd allowed himself to become, refusing to get off the floor unless you were the one picking him up.
"i missed you," he slurred, latching onto you, head obviously swimming, thoughts lost to the whiskey he downed with his friend.
"i missed you too," you admitted. it wasn't like he was going to remember in the morning. "we gotta go now. hobi wants to go to bed."
he perked up once again at the mention of hobi's name. "ohhh yeah j-hope. thank you bro!"
you heard him giggle from down the hallway and call out a "take care!" as you stumbled out of his home.
you huffed as you made your way down the street. seokjin wasn't that heavy but he was nearly six feet and really leaning into you. it was a good thing they lived in the same neighborhood. you hummed along to whatever he was babbling about, not really paying much attention until he suggested the one thing you knew you couldn't do. "stay with me."
"i will. just until you get to sleep," you replied, taking his keys from him and letting you both inside, opting to play dumb.
even in his inebriated state he wasn't having it. he gripped your hips. "not just tonight. forever."
you sighed. "seokjin... we want different things. you know it won't work. we tried and it didn't work."
"i'm different than i was before. i don't care about all those other things. i want you. as long as i can have you, i have everything."
you shook your head. you weren't having this conversation when he was drunk. "come on. let's get you to bed."
he relented, letting you move him around as you pleased, undressing and redressing and just before he finally succumbed to slumber he grabbed your hand one last time. "stay."
yoongi:
"are you going to stare at me passive aggressively all day or are you going to say something?"
you didn't appreciate his attitude at all, so you had no problem pointing out what'd been bothering you all morning. "there's a mark on your neck."
he furrowed his brows in confusion, raising his hand up to feel around before walking to the mirror in the hall to see what you were talking about. "hmmm... that's weird."
"yeah i think so too," you spat. "imagine my surprise when i wake up and see that on you after you were out all night with namjoon doing god knows what."
"crossfit."
"what?"
"we were doing crossfit."
"i don't know who that is or why y'all chose that codename, but it's stupid as hell."
"it's not a codename. it's a type of workout."
"that leaves hickeys?"
"it's not a hickey. it's a bruise."
"on your neck?"
you could tell he was getting angry by the flush that was creeping onto his face and the way his nostrils were flaring, so it's not a surprise when he says "you can go if you want. no one's stopping you."
but you were ready for a fight. you'd been stewing ever since you woke up and found him in the kitchen, sipping on coffee with that mark on his neck. had been waiting around for an explanation and the one he was giving now was way too lame. "oh. so you want me to leave now?"
"no. i want you to trust me." he sat down next to you. "i just got you back. why would i go out and do something stupid like that? why would i go looking for anything else, when everything i've ever wanted is waiting for me at home?"
and suddenly all the anger in your body dispersed, transforming itself into shame, relief, love. you crawled into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck.
he hugged you back for a moment then pulled away, swiping at the tears welling up in your eyes before they got the chance to fall. "don't cry, okay? just trust me."
you nodded. lord knows you'd follow him anywhere, but if he cheated on you, that's a trip you wouldn't make it back from. "i will. just don't go where i can't follow."
hoseok:
you jumped at the sound of his voice, accidentally dropping the shirt you'd just picked up.
"if you leave this time, don't bother coming back."
“i- i- i wasn’t.” you were.
it was dark in the room, so you couldn’t make out the expression on his face but the way he rolled over, back turned toward you spoke volumes. if you were leaving he didn’t want to watch you go.
you scurried to the bed, tucking yourself against his back. “hobi. i wasn’t.” you don’t know how you were supposed to convince him when you couldn’t convince yourself. “i was just cold.”
he grunted. you wrapped your arm around his middle, rubbing at his abdomen. “do you believe me?” you peeped.
“no.”
your heart cracked. “do you want me to go?” you wouldn’t blame him if he did. wouldn’t blame him for saving himself from you.
a beat of silence passed. he intertwined his fingers with yours. “no, but i want you to want to stay.”
you didn’t know what to say so instead you just hugged him closer and hoped that for now that could be enough.
jimin:
jimin was good with people. better with you. that's why you came back here again after three months. that's why you always came back.
jimin was too good with people. they loved him. he loved them back. he loved you more. at least that's what he always said.
it was hard to remember when he was touching and kissing on you in a way that varied from the practiced ease you were used to before you broke up. it wasn't bad but it had your mind racing trying to figure out who he was touching, loving, while you were trying to get over him.
took away any ability to focus on the feeling of his lips on yours, trailing down your neck, sucking and soothing the marks he was leaving on your collar bones. your lack of response had him reversing his path, kissing back up your neck, on your cheek, the corner of your mouth, until he was able to look you in the eye. "everything okay?"
you stared at him dazedly. he nudged your nose with his trying to regain your attention. "were you with anyone else while we weren't together?"
he opened and closed his mouth a few times like a fish out of water. "i- i- yeah." he deflated at his admission.
you recoiled slightly. it hadn't been that long since you two decided that you wanted to work things out again. your heart was still tattered and torn. you felt a piece of it slip out of the confines of your chest.
"i didn't cheat on you," he defended.
"i know." and you did know. but it didn't stop you from feeling a hint of betrayal. while you were somewhere curled up unable to even think of anyone else, he was already on to the next thing. someone better than you probably. someone he wouldn't have to keep doing this back and forth thing with. a single tear slipped down your face.
he cupped your cheeks in both his hands. "it was one night, and it didn't mean anything. we had already been broken up for like two months when it happened. we've never been broken up for that long. i thought we were done for real this time," he explained softly.
"i know. i'm not mad. i'm just..." you needed to get out of there. you needed some space. you started gathered your belongings.
he grabbed your wrist before you could get too far. "babe... don't go," he whined.
"i have to. i need to think."
"think with me."
"i need to do this alone. i'll call you later."
you slinked out the door, head and heart a complete and utter mess, and spent the rest of the night wondering was it all worth it? is he worth it?
you came back in the morning. you always came back.
taehyung:
he frowned looking at his screen, you blocked him on instagram and like everything else. his messages weren’t even being delivered and every call was going straight to voicemail. straight away he could sense that this was different.
you two fought a lot and he could take some of the blame for that. he liked to pick fights with you probably more than necessary. he couldn't help it though. it was the only time he was sure he was on your mind. and he'd take the knowledge that you were seething over him over thinking you weren't thinking of him at all any day.
the fight that transpired a couple days ago, however, was not like that. it was major. it wasn't solved after a couple hours. the last thing you said to him was that maybe you two shouldn't be together and he agreed, and now he was here 2 days later, staring at his phone, with no feasible way to contact you.
he wasn't going to let that be the end of you. not over things he said in the heat of the moment, things he didn't mean, he'd never mean. he was in his car before he realized what he was doing. at your doorstep knocking before he thought of words to say.
you opened the door slowly, not entirely surprised at his presence but off put all the same. "yes?"
he just stared at you for a moment. you were so pretty sometimes he forgot how to speak around you. definitely lost his mind at times because he simply couldn't be without you, but he'd fix that. he'd be better as long as you took him back. "you blocked me," he stated dumbly.
"yeah."
"why?"
"bc we're not together anymore." you don't know what he wanted. why he showed up on your door stating the obvious.
he huffed, running his hands through his hair. "i didn't mean that. when i said we shouldn't, i- i didn't mean that."
"i did. taehyung our relationship is unproductive. we're not getting anywhere except on each other's nerves. let's just stop before we hate each other for real."
he stared at you in shock. he knew he could be petty at times. he knew when you two were fighting he said some things he probably shouldn't have, but how could you ever believe that he felt anything but love for you? he was so wrapped around your finger, so irrevocably yours that he couldn't fathom being without you. how could you not see that? his only problem was that he felt you weren't as invested as him and maybe he could've done a better job of communicating that and he would after he was sure that his last time holding you in his arms wasn't his last time.
he dropped down on his knees. "one chance."
"tae," you sighed.
"please," he begged, eyes getting teary, "give me one more chance."
jungkook:
you sighed leaning back from jungkook's embrace. his hands were lower than they should've been, grazing at the very top of your thigh right below your butt. you let him. you always did.
you stared at each other for a few more seconds. he was so handsome. he always was. kind eyes, sweet smile, hair all soft and fluffy. you wanted nothing more than to run your hands through it. you stopped yourself when you saw the way his eyes dropped down to your lips. time to pop the bubble you found yourself trapped in.
"thanks for the ride, jk. i had a really good night."
he whined out your name, hand going from lightly grazing your thigh to flatly palming it, attempting to keep you in place. "you really not gonna invite me in?"
you couldn't help yourself. you draped your arms around his shoulders, toying with the hair at the nape of his neck, dopey smile set on your face. "what would i do that for?"
he wrapped his arms around your waist, squeezing you tight, and nosed at your neck. "because i wanna make your good night a great night."
"mmm... i want that too," you agreed. and because you were a weak weak woman you couldn't help but peck his lips. he perked up at the feeling of your lips on his, but deflated once you continued talking. "but you know what i want even more?"
he averted his eyes, tongue poking at his cheek. he knew the answer to the question.
"i want you to be mine!" you chirped. he knew that. it was the only reason you'd even agreed to go out with him again. you'd given your heart to him so many times and just sat back and watched as he tossed it around carefully, strung you along for months with no promises of more. you were done with that though. you needed more. you told him that. he promised he'd consider it. it was the only reason he was standing too close to you right now. and until he could commit to you a peck on the front porch of your house was all he was gonna get.
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moccahobi · 2 years
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Let You Fly (Teaser)
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Pairing: Namjoon (BTS) x Jimin (BTS)
Genre: angst, fluff
Expected Word Count: 3.3k
Rating: Everyone
Warnings: None
Big thanks to: @bluewhale52​ for betaing this piece for me! 💜
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Summary
Namjoon and Jimin have been together for only 7 months and it’s been near perfect. The two fit together wonderfully. All changes when Namjoon’s dream job offer slides itself into his inbox. He’d been eyeing the position in Japan for years… It wouldn’t be fair to Jimin to pack up his bags and join Namjoon, but it wouldn’t be fair to Namjoon to try to force him to stay. Instead, Jimin must let him fly. 
Song inspiration:
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"This twist of fate goes to show that nothing's ever perfect."
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I also went a tad overboard with planning this fic and made a playlist!
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Intended Release Date: May 29th!
Interested? Sign up for my taglist here.
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byuljoonie · 7 months
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moonlight // knj
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I’m sorry baby I’m just really hot…
pairing: namjoon x reader
genre: one shot, slight angst, fluff, growing tension, boyfriend material, extreme smut, desperation, succubus intentions…
word count: 5k+ (sorry)
warnings: mentions of mature topics, spit, namjoon driving lmao, thigh humping bcs desperate, throat goat, dom!sub, dom rm!sub reader, alcohol consumption, probably a good amount of swearing, post-gym namjoon, grocery store activities, slight car play, teasing, oral, summer night, riding, overstimulation, a little masochism
summary: namjoon promised to go to the grocery store with you after the gym (extended ending on ao3)
note: just had what cody ko and noel would call a “power thought.” I literally just had a spark of inspiration bcs it’s really hot in the south right now and Namjoon’s vogue cover is to die for. enjoy and feel free to check out any of my playlists while reading. Sorry for any little mistakes. gonna make a tag list after I post 10 works! -ash (wrote this draft a few months ago so it might be slightly more extreme than expected.)
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My reflection stared back at me, tracing the movement of the cloth against my skin. The long slit of the black fabric starts by the left knee and leaves an opening at the bottom of the dress. My manicured feet sat firmly against the hardwood bedroom floor, grounding me away from my persistent thoughts. I grabbed my sunglasses from the stand mounted on the cream walls and turned swiftly on my heels. Abandoning the mirror with a grimace on my face.
I loved this dress very much, the long sleeves light and airy protecting me from the harsh summer rays. The way it hugs my figure is like someone familiar. The same someone that bought this dress for me. He crossed my mind once more sending another surge of anger through me.
Namjoon promised to come along to the grocery store with me today but he’s been at the gym for almost 2 hours now. He said he’d only be gone an hour but an hour quickly turned to two, now I’m dressed and past ready to go. I hated going to crowded stores, at this rate we’ll never beat the after-work rush.
I sat on the bed putting on my anklet he gifted me for our 3 year anniversary. Yet another gift that I’m wearing today, being spoiled ruining my plans of holding a grudge tonight on our date. I slipped on some black socks and made my way towards the door. Listening as the front door swings open with a beep of the automatic keypad.
I excitedly descend the stairs, my black dress sweeping the floor behind me beautifully like a wedding gown flowing in the summer breeze. The second step I’ve already failed at trying to be mad at him.
“Baby! Where you at?” He says deep voice roaring through our apartment. I stopped at the bottom of the stairs almost running into his chest. He smiled at me taking in all of my body, returning to my eyes after his brief but thorough inspection.
“Right here NAMjoon,” I stated putting extra emphasis on his surname. I watched as his chest rose and fell with every breath, his skin glistened with sweat. Tan skin accentuating his muscular frame, my mouth parted slightly at the sight. He looked heavenly I almost lost my composure.
“I’m sorry I took so long Y/N my trainer wouldn’t let me leave until the workout was complete,” he said walking towards me. Smirking at the way my eyes followed his every movement.
“You look so gorgeous Princess, this dress is perfect for you,” he said pulling me into a tight embrace. Grabbing a handful of my ass as he reached over to rest his chin on my shoulder. I yelp in surprise at the sudden groping, melting into his body and giving up on being angry. I wanted to take him right now but first, we need food or we’ll be eating out for another week before we have time to shop again.
“Whatever Joon go shower we have to leave as soon as possible and you’re stinky,” I said pulling away from him and then standing on my tippy toes to kiss him quickly. He kissed me back beginning to deepen it before I push him away again. I give him a knowing look and bid him goodbye as I walk to the kitchen to make him a snack to eat in the car. The store was about a 25 minute drive from us but it was worth it for the produce.
I grab a few ingredients from the fridge to make him a nice sandwich with an everything bagel. I prepared everything quickly and put it in a small ziplock bag next to my purse. I heard Namjoon exiting our bedroom 15 minutes later, humming a sweet tune in his beautiful vibrato.
“Come on babe I already have the car warming up,” he said grabbing my hand and lightly pulling me next to him. He’s wearing a light brown shirt with a pair of distressed blue jeans. Looking as handsome as always I drink in his appearance for eternity. We walked to the elevator quietly, Namjoon tapping away on his phone until the elevator doors opened to be let us out.
As we walk towards our car I begin to sweat a little, the setting Sun still scorching my skin like its’ noonday twin. I started to speed up a little pulling Namjoon along so I could feel the relief of the A/C sooner than later. He swung the door open for me making sure my dress wasn’t in the way before shutting the door.
Namjoon jumps in quickly closing the door before the heat could penetrate the closed air. It still wasn’t cool enough in here, with the sun beaming directly on our vehicle the A/C felt like lukewarm hell. I let down the window hastily fanning myself as we pulled out of the parking lot.
After I few minutes of fanning and desperation, I looked over and behold a sight that would make any woman yearn in an instant. A head of sweat moved swiftly down the expanse of Namjoons golden jaw. Resting at the base before dropping down onto his slightly exposed shoulder. His lips rose colored from his unconscious biting. I wanted to reach over and swallow him whole, I crave him so bad I can’t help but squeeze my legs together at the thought.
I was so caught up in my sinful thoughts I didn’t notice him glance over at me. A twinkle in his eye set off the indication of a torturous idea. Namjoon placed his large hand on my thigh, causing me to tense up instantly. Before I could utter a word he reached over my leg and grabbed his sandwich from my lap.
His smile turning into a stifled laugh as he continued to stare straight ahead. I must have let out the small noise I was holding in because he seemed to know exactly what would tick me off right now. I turned my attention towards the windshield trying to focus on the passing cars and people watching. Then an idea popped into my head.
I pull out my phone and open the group chat I have with our 6 best friends. I stop and think of what to type before another brilliant idea is brought to me. I pose provocatively making sure my cleavage was “present,” in my photo. I took a couple of pictures, some with sunglasses and some staring at Namjoon. He patiently drove, oblivious to my sly intentions. He hummed along to one of his favorite songs looking over at me to shoot me a wink.
I giggled and looked away almost feeling bad for what I’m going to do. Yet not bad enough because I went ahead and sent the photos with a message. “Should I post these on my close friends? I don’t know if I look good enough today…” I said ending with a sad face. It didn’t take long for our phones to simultaneously vibrate. Secretly glancing over at Namjoon, I unlock my phone knowing he can’t check his until we’re in the lot.
Hobi ddaeng: You look great !! Of course, you should post it, Namjoon talk some sense into her.
Me: He’s driving right now. I didn’t ask for his opinion yet I want to hear you guys first :)
Park Chanel: ooooh…I see…
Park Chanel: If you don’t post the pictures I will! Wow wow you look beautiful. Nice..dress and necklace.
I looked down at my neck realizing I didn’t wear a necklace today. Oh Jimin you’re evil Namjoon is going to kill me and you. I laughed a little at his crude behavior and read the next incoming message.
Yoongi: You’re gonna get hit Jimin *laughing emojis*
Me: mmm just because you guys said so I will post it hehe
Before I could read the next response I felt the car shake as we pulled into the grocery store parking lot. I quickly went on my sns and posted two of the pictures on my close friends. Picking the two the boys liked the most. I was starting to get nervous, I know how possessive he is with me and I’m the same but I want revenge for making me frustrated.
Namjoon pulls into an open parking spot almost near the front of the bustling building. I take off my seatbelt with a click grabbing my purse from my lap and swinging the door open. I wanted to beat Namjoon inside before he could read the texts and catch me. As I hurriedly closed the door I saw him reading the messages, jaw tensing with rage.
I hear him call my name from the car and a slam of a car door followed behind the sound of his sexy voice. His long legs easily closing the space between us as he grabbed my hand, squeezing it while looking at me. I put my shades on ignoring his questions. Stroking the back of his hand as I never break eye contact with the automatic sliding doors.
“Can you get us a cart pet?” I froze at the nickname. He knows what he’s doing, and I don’t plan on breaking that fast. I let go of his hand briefly going to grab the first cart I saw. Cleaning the handle before strutting back over to my boyfriend as he eyed me intensely.
I let him grab the cart from me but not before pulling him down to whisper in his ear. “Anything for you Daddy..” I say in a hushed tone. Making sure to leave a kiss on his sensitive earlobe as I pull away.
I walk forward trying not to laugh at the silly nickname I used to get him riled up. He trailed behind me, failing to hide his blatant staring at my ass. We make our way down the aisles trying to speed up the process as people begin piling into the store.
“Joonie baby I can’t reach this,” I said struggling to reach the box of goldfish on the top shelf. He moved over to me in a flash, pressing his front flush against my back. I heard his breathing stop as I purposely pushed my ass against him.
“This one, this one, this one, or this one…” He trailed off purposely picking the wrong boxes to tease me. He finally grabbed the correct item and tossed it in the cart. Walking away as if he didn’t leave me speechless and flustered on the cracker aisle.
I follow him to the snack aisle after grabbing a few bottles of wine and champagne for our date tonight. The empty aisle presents another opportunity for me to assert my dominance. I walk over to the chips looking at them inquisitively as if I’m mocking a character.
“Honey do you want this kind or this kind?” I said while bending over. Making sure to sway slowly as I wait for an answer. “Babe? Which-“ I was cut short as a hand firmly grabbed my ass causing me to yelp in surprise and sit up straight.
“I want this one right here,” he growled in my ear. I turned around and looked at him, watching his eyes darken with hunger. “Let’s get outta here yeah?” He questioned looking into my eyes. I nodded furiously ready to exit this hell and get home to what’s waiting.
We race to the self-checkout line, scanning and bagging groceries like a 5000-dollar prize is awaiting the winner. Namjoon grabbed my hand after he paid and pulled me along with him as he pushed the basket with his other hand. He was so warm, skin clear and kissable. I wanted to pull him aside and cover him in kisses, not caring about the people around us.
Namjoon unlocks the car as we stop beside it. I move to walk around the cart but he stops me in my tracks. “Let me help you get the groceries in the car love,” I say looking confused at his sudden maneuver.
Unexpectedly, he opened the car door and motioned for me to get inside. I insisted again that I help but he gave me a look that I know better than to disobey. I got inside praying I didn’t anger him too much. I set myself up for this one, didn’t I? It’ll be worth it in the end right? Maybe I went a little too far with the texts but I can’t help but shiver with anticipation. I pull out my phone to text Jimin about my bad decisions.
Me: I think I fucked up lol
Park Chanel: you’re welcome ;)
Namjoon slams the trunk shut causing me to jump in surprise. I close my phone sitting it in the cup holder beside me. He gets in the car, jaw still tense as he turns the key in the ignition. I thought about breaking the silence but the tension was so thick a knife would recoil at the slight pressure of penetration. Namjoon puts on his seatbelt then proceeds to look at me.
“ I don’t want to hear another peep from you Y/N..” he starts lowly not breaking eye contact for a second. “You’ve done enough for tonight, if you do anything stupid I swear I will pull the car over and take you on the side of the road. I promise you wouldn’t want that.” He deadpans and looks away from me, pulling out of the parking spot. I utter a soft okay and prepare to behave the rest of the way home.
I slide my palm over to his free hand resting on his thigh. I stare firmly at him, giving my best puppy eyes in return. He doesn’t look away from the road but I watch as his lip twitches into a small smile. He grabs my hand, rubbing his large thumb over the back of my hand. In love can’t begin to describe how I truly feel about this man.
I laugh as he tries to sing along to Smoke Sprite, raspy voice blending well with Soyoon. I rap along to his part of the song, stealing the spotlight and making him bop his head in excitement. The song finishes and we’re about 10 minutes from our place. I check my phone and see a text from our group chat, making the recent grocery store escapades flash through my mind. I want him to touch me again, I like it when he’s desperate and needy for me.
Another terrible idea floods my brain accompanied by a mound of outcomes. I suddenly let go of Namjoons hand causing him to spare me a confused expression. A smile graced my face as I turned my body forward, grabbing the slit of my dress and opening it over my legs. I let my left hand run down the front of my dress, stopping at my panties hesitating even.
I slide my hand under the fabric immediately coming in contact with the soft skin. I dip my fingers and get to work. I began letting out dramatized moans and grunts. I moan Namjoon's name and furiously let my hand lose control. I looked over and saw Namjoon gripping the steering wheel in frustration. Sweat adorned his angelic face, veins prominent in his hands. I let this go on until we reached the last stop light near our apartment building. I sat up and closed my legs acting like I didn’t just masturbate next to my boyfriend in a moving car.
We pull into the lot entering our designated spot. Namjoon quietly turned off the engine and released a sigh that he seemed to have been holding in. He looks absolutely pissed and it’s so sexy. His erratic breathing only made me wetter by the second.
“You’re going to follow my instructions carefully. I don’t want to hear a word from you or tonight will be your worst fucking nightmare got it?” He questioned angrily letting his eyes trail over my body once more. I nodded too scared to move an inch more.
“Go upstairs, get undressed, wait in the middle of the bed. If you’re not in that spot when I come up there in 15 minutes, you better pray you can stop time.” He seethes hotly. “Yes sir,” I say scared and ready for more. He gets out of the car walks around and opens my door. He grabs my purse from my lap holding eye contact, his brown almond eyes dark and predatory.
“Go.” He states motioning for me to exit the vehicle. I get out swiftly, grabbing my purse from his hand and sprinting towards the entrance of the building. The elevator took an eternity to bring me to our floor. I ran to the door and shakily put in the passcode, messing up a few times before it finally let me in.
My shoes are off in a flash, I leave my purse by the door as well abandoning my shades on the counter as I run past to the stairs. I burst into our room, slipping my dress off. Almost fell as I grabbed my silk lavender robe hanging on the wall. I threw it on and climbed onto the bed. My anklet glowed in the natural light seeping through the parted curtains. The front door swung open slamming against the wall.
I heard shuffling, cabinets opening and closing for 10 more minutes before his heavy footsteps echoed through our hallway. He walked into the room eyeing me before raising an eyebrow. I started to sweat nervously hoping I did what I was told.
“Who told you to put on your robe Y/N?” He questioned in amusement. He slowly walked over to me, grabbing each side of the robe and ripping it open. He discarded it onto the floor and stalked around the bed, he stood at the front motionless. “On your knees in front of me, now.” He said and I immediately left the bed. I swung my legs over the side and dropped to my knees.
Namjoon watched me through lidded eyes as I crawled over to him on my knees, stopping directly in front of his growing bulge. I was quick to unlatch the hook of his buckle, the metal of the belt clinging as it hit the hardwood floors.
“I’ll excuse the robe mishap since you’re so eager to taste me doll face,” he said reaching down to grab my chin. A loud moan echoed through the room as he grabbed my hair and yanked my head back. He looked down at me, motioning his head back as if telling me to open up. I did as I was told and watched as he spit in my mouth and closed it back. He pulled his pants down and kicked them to the side.
“Good girl, now eat.” He said intensely. He hummed in satisfaction, eyes never leaving the way I wrapped my fingers around his cock and finally engulfed his length into the warmth of my mouth. I took him in slowly inch by inch, his girth heavy against my tongue as I extended my jaw wider and wider. I choked a little as he hit the back of my throat.
“You look so fucking gorgeous with your lips wrapped around me, pet,” his fingers tightened into my hair, his gaze stoic and heavy on me. Pet. The pet name earned a moan from me as I began a steady rhythm of sucking. My fingers were coated in a thick layer of saliva, Namjoon’s cock easily sliding against my pressured grip as my cheeks hollowed, jaw growing sore from my strenuous movements.
He groaned loudly, fucking my throat faster until I could no longer take it. I let my jaw go slack so he could use me as his personal toy. He grabbed my face and fucked it harder until I was seeing stars. A beautiful repetition of my name strung from his tongue, stilling as he came into my mouth. I happily swallowed every drop, coughing around his cock one last time, sending a shiver through his body.
“Good job, get on the bed I want to taste you. I can see you dripping on the floor,” he smirks as he picks me up and helps me onto the bed. He walks around and gets in the middle of the bed, watching me as I sit patiently waiting for instructions.
“Come here baby, sit on my face,” he motioned for me to come to him. I slowly crawled towards him, bracing myself on his lap. He kissed me roughly, tasting himself on my tongue, running his hand down to play with my chest. Nipples sensitive to the touch, he pulls away from me, taking my right breast in his mouth. Sucking and nibbling on me, teasing me. He pulled off with a pop, scooting further down the bed and then lifting me so I could move towards his face.
I place my hands on the headboard hovering over his face in anticipation. He suddenly grabs my thighs and pulls me down onto him. I scream out in pleasure as he dives into my center. Feverishly lapping his tongue at my pussy like it’s the last time he’ll have me. His moans send intense vibrations through my body, making me scream his name. We’ll have a noise complaint tomorrow.
I felt my orgasm coming on, riding his tongue until my legs were sore. He let go of my left thigh to slap my ass hard, signaling me to cum on his tongue. I came with a loud groan of his name. Shaking and twitching as I came down from my high.
Namjoon grabbed my hips, gently guiding me down to his lap. His face was covered in my essence, from nose to chin, he glistened like an Angel. He smiled and rubbed circles on my tummy as he watched me shake.
“Don’t think we’re done darling, I’m not finished until I see my cum dripping down your pretty legs.” He gave me one last smile before his eyes darkened once more. He grabbed my hips and lifted me slightly, sticking his girth fully inside me. I sank slowly, letting him fill me to the brim. Tears streamed down my cheeks loving the painful stretch in my core.
“Ride me until I say stop.” He deadpanned motioning for me to move or else. I started to ride him painfully slow, not being able to take much more. This was my opportunity to finally seize control. I picked up the pace, rhythmic grunts and sounds of skin slapping filled the room. I put my hands on his chest and let my hips do the talking.
I ground down harder, spelling his name with every swift motion of my hips. I felt his cock twitch inside of me, indicating he was close already. Now that I have control I’m going to make him feel everything he did to me. I moved faster, causing the bed to shake and tremble with every shout of his name.
He grabbed my hips trying to make me slow down but I only grind down harder. Clenching and tightening around him to send me him over the edge. I watched as his orgasm roared through him, eyes rolling to the back of his head. I kept moving, milking everything from him. Getting closer to my orgasm, I let myself go with one last yell of his name.
Squeezing my eyes shut as I finally stilled. The sound of heavy breathing filled the room, the bed creaking as I rolled off of him. Shivering as the empty feeling overtakes me when he’s not inside of me. “I hope I didn’t get too carried away,” I started while looking over at my completely wrecked boyfriend.
“That was perfect.” He said smiling over at me. He slowly stood up, going to our bathroom to retrieve a towel. He returned momentarily, cleaning me off and then cleaning himself. Throwing the towel in the hamper against the wall. I was so exhausted I could barely move. I got under our giant duvet, getting comfortable fairly quickly.
Namjoon glanced at me, nestled under the warm blankets, my eyes getting heavy with exhaustion. He promised me a special date night and he was determined to make it happen, even if he just put me to sleep. With a gentle smile, his aftercare continued.
“Hey, babe,” he whispered softly, brushing a strand of loose hair from my face. “I know you’re tired but I don’t want our date night to go to waste.”
I yawned in response and mumbled sleepily, “Joonie I’m so comfy right here.” Earning a chuckle from him, my reluctance seeped through the atmosphere. “I know, but trust me, you won’t regret it. I’ve got something in the living room set up for us.”
That caused me to sit up, curiosity overcoming my fatigue. “Oh? What is it?” I said carefully. “It’s a surprise, but I promise it’ll be worth it.” He said leaning in to plant a kiss on my forehead.
With his gentle encouragement, I reluctantly pushed the covers aside and allowed Namjoon to help me out of bed. He passed me the discarded robe and my slippers, and together we made our way to the living room.
Where soft candlelight flickered with a movie on the screen waiting to be played. As I settled onto the couch I couldn’t help but smile at the effort Namjoon had put into creating this romantic haven. A charcuterie board with our favorite snacks and 2 bottles of the wine we purchased earlier were on the coffee table.
Namjoon plopped down beside me, taking my hand in his. “See princess? Our date night in the living room isn’t so bad, is it?” He said grinning like he won the lottery. My fatigue began to dissipate as I basked in the warmth of Namjoon's love and effort. “Not bad at all,” I said, feeling grateful for his consistency and thoughtfulness.
“Let’s start the movie I’m so excited!” I exclaimed pumping my fist in the air embarrassingly hard. Namjoon laughed and mimicked me, making me laugh even harder than before. The first half of the movie went by as we stuffed our faces with food and downed wine like it was our last supper. I was starting to feel tipsy and before I knew it my thoughts started wandering again.
“Mmm, these snacks are-“ Namjoon started as he reached for the charcuterie board. I interrupted his thought by grabbing his hand. Namjoon looked at me puzzled, “huh?” He says in surprise. I move closer and settle onto his lap. “I want to be closer to you,” I said, hands resting on his toned chest.
Namjoon blinked at me, a tipsy smile forming on his lips, “Well I can’t argue with that pet.” I look into his eyes exploring the galaxies I can reach within them. “You know, I love nights like these, just you and me, a movie, some wine…” I rambled to him.
“Yeah, me too. It’s moments like this when I realize how lucky I am to have you in my life baby.” He said while lost in my eyes. Searching for something, something that he knows I have. I leaned in slowly, our lips almost touching, “I love you Namjoon.” I kissed him before he could respond. Feeling his emotions spill into our kiss. He pulled us apart gently, rubbing his hand on my cheek. “I love you too Y/N.”
He grabbed my face and captured my lips again. A thief that could do no wrong in my eyes, I deepened the kiss craving more of him. Needing to feel something more. I slowly began moving my hips on his thigh, grinding down onto the exposed skin, earning a guttural groan from his throat.
His hands moved down the side of my body, exploring every curve, touching every mark he left on me this evening. He landed on my hips, guiding me to my last orgasm with his strong hands. The air was hot once more, soft moans and sweet nothings penetrated the quiet.
The movie is long forgotten, the candlelight coating the walls in a beautiful golden glow. I felt my orgasm building quickly, still sensitive from the earlier assault on my clit. Namjoon began bouncing his leg, adding more pressure on my center, and sending me over the edge.
I kiss him one last time before I fall fast asleep on him.
The end.
441 notes · View notes
uarmymoonlight · 3 months
Text
after the afterparty
pairing: nerd!namjoon X ex-mean girl!reader 
genre: frenemies (? sorta) to lovers, rivals to lovers, college!au, one-shot, angsty, smut,
summary: after a night of partying with your (now ex-)classmates, namjoon finds you alone in the kitchen and unspoken feelings and desires come rushing to the surface 
warnings: NOT PROOFREAD, reader’s a bit of an asshole, namjoon kinda idolizes her, lots of untold backstory for the #angst, tit/nipple play, biting (lightly)
words: a little over 4.8k
taglist: @kyglover @luaspersona
crossposted on AO3: here.
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image by @/chimigraphic on twitter
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You finally take a deep breath of the cold night air. Eyes closed, beer in hand, hip leaned in against the kitchen counter. Another deep breath. 
This night took a real toll on you: 2 hours of pre-game plus 4 of partying and an unbelievable  2 and a half more of after-partying, all in the name of socialization and redemption. But it’s over now. 
You let the silence embrace and erase you. The outdoor lights paint the room with a faint blue and the only sound is a car passing by and the sink leaking. It’s just you there. The rest have gone to bed –  their own or someone else’s - or back to their own airbnbs. But, as tired as you are, you stay there in the kitchen. This last moment of silence before you leave this place for good. And these long nearly 9 hours of today won’t matter. The people at the party won’t matter. Not even that award-stealing, headache-inducing, infuriating, dimpled assh–
A noise stops your thoughts. You turn to your right to see Namjoon kneeling down to catch the water bottle he’d dropped.
“Namjoon.”
“Hey”, he licks his lips “I...I thought everyone else was gone or sleeping.” 
“So did I.” 
A beat of silence goes by and then another, a longer one. You could almost laugh at the silence that sets between the two of you. Had this happened a while back, you would’ve already told him to fuck off and probably insulted him somehow. Then again, had this been back then, he would’ve been vexing you endlessly by refusing to let the silence just be, doing that nervous back-and-forth on his heels he used to do all the time and talking your ear off. 
This isn’t back then, however. So now, you’re just looking at each other. 
Alright. You said you’d change your attitude, didn’t you? Here’s a test for you to prove you did. Your chance to do something to Namjoon you’ve never done before: be nice. 
“Congratulations.”
He scoffs, incredulous.
“You’re congratulating me?”
You can’t say you’re surprised he asked. There was a time you’d rather have eaten your own two feet before ever complimenting Namjoon to his face, a time you’d have done anything to not stay in the same room as him. Let alone just the two of you together. 
“Well, I did tell you I would, when you deserved it” you remind him “You won the academic decathlon, graduated top of the class, and you got the girl. You deserve it now, so there you go: congratulations.” you raise your glass slightly to him. 
He hesitates. 
“I got a girl.” 
You wait for him to elaborate. He doesn’t. You keep staring at him with those piercing eyes of yours. He hates them. Hates how much he’s always been so aware of them. Hates how much he’s always been so desperate to understand the emotions behind them. But, most of all, he hates how beautiful he finds them, how much they make him feel so on the spotlight, so special. 
He watches you open and close your mouth. Once. Twice. You’re speechless? Now here’s one for the history books, he thinks. You’re probably debating whether you should ask him or not about what he meant by that. And God, he hopes you do. He wants you to ask him, he so desperately does. He needs you to want to know what he means. He needs this opening to tell you exactly why Seulgi isn’t the girl, he needs this one chance to tell you what he’s been holding in for so long, the feelings that are always on the tip of his tongue. 
Namjoon waits for you to ask. But you don’t. You look away. 
You can’t ask him, because that question leads to things you’ve already shut the door of, a long time ago. And he should know better than to try and get it out of you. But he’s Namjoon. Namjoon, always the hopeful idealist, always wearing his heart on his sleeve. And you, always the scoffing pessimist, the egotistical cold bitch. So, you take the coward’s route and when you look back at him all you say is:
“I’m leaving tomorrow.” So there’s no point in talking about any of this, is what you don’t say.
“I know.” 
Again, neither of you talk for a while. In silence, you simply look at each other. The air between you is tense with something neither could name exactly. Namjoon breaks the silence this time. 
“Dance with me?” he extends his left hand to you. 
“There’s no music.”
He shrugs and insists “Dance with me.”
You look at his still stretched hand towards you and it’s almost a perfect flashback of that one night so many nights ago. When he had also reached out for you, in ways more than just physical. When Namjoon had laid out so much of himself for you and all you did was spit it back at him. 
“You owe me this one”, he says. Maybe he’s an ass for insisting on this, but God knows you actually do owe him at least this one. You do, and you know it. “You didn’t even talk to me at my party earlier”, he adds. 
And it’s just another time that you realize he really is a much better person than you are for using the party as leverage, and not…Well, everything else you’ve done. It’s something you’re not sure you would’ve done for him. 
You softly put down your beer on the counter, looking at it while you do so. Anything to not look at him just yet. You need those extra few seconds to…You don’t know what for. To prepare? To breathe? It isn’t to think, surely. Maybe that’s it. You need to not think about what you’re going to do. When the can touches the counter, you spin it a couple times, staring at the label. 
With your peripheral vision, you can see Namjoon’s offering hand still out. Again, you remember another moment, a long time ago, when he offered his hand too. You had refused it. God, you suck at this not thinking thing. Andnd you suck at not being a coward.
You finally peel away from the counter and walk quietly to namjoon. You stare at his hand and, taking your time, you slide yours in it. Feeling every inch of his skin until both of your hands are completely touching, and when that happens, you feel a breath you didn’t realize you were holding come out. You feel a bit pathetic for it. The worst part is you hear Namjoon doing the same thing. 
Namjoon is smart, you know that. You and everyone who saw him beat you at everything academic-related year after year after year. He’s smart. But he’s not truly smart. If he were truly smart, you think, he’d pull away right now. If he were, he’d turn his back away from you for good. 
He doesn’t. He slides his hand from yours to your elbow, caressing your forearm on his way and pulls you in. His fingers on his right hand brush against you, starting with your fingers and going up until he settles it on your waist, pulling you in even more. Not letting go of your elbow, he places your hand on his chest and you complete the action by sliding both your arms around his neck. 
You still haven’t looked in his eyes, focusing on his shirt. Actually, his chest. You’d rather not think about that.
You feel his presence all around you, feel him on your skin even though very few parts of you are really touching the other. You feel his head close to yours, your feet almost touching. The two of you stand locked in place.
“Namjoon?”
“Yes?” His voice is little more than a breath. 
“Move.” 
You hear him scoff lightly and get brave enough to glance at him through your eyelashes. Only a shadow of a smile rests on his lips, so his famous dimples are nowhere in sight. 
As he begins to lead you, that quivering bravery you felt moments ago vanishes. You go back to staring at his shirt while embarrassingly hoping you don’t step on his toes. You'd count your steps, instead of just hoping you're doing it right. That is if you knew how to do that. Shouldn't there be music in order to properly count the steps? Isn't that how it works? You count by following the beat of the song, right? But, then again, there's supposed to be music when you dance regardless of the counting. God, what a stupid idea. Why did you agree to this anyway?
Namjoon pulls you even closer, joining your chests and your thighs together as you draw in a surprised breath and let out a sigh. Now, your nose brushes against his lips. 
Ah, right. That is why.
You really can't do this not-thinking thing. Product of years over worrying about your social status and over analyzing every interaction you had to make sure you came out on top. It’s actually a lot of hard work being the main top bitch in the area.
Briefly, you wonder what people would think if they saw you right now in his arms. You wonder what Namjoon thinks of this whole scene. 
And what an interesting scene it is: the dim lights covering you like a blanket while you quietly embrace, a dance that is little more than just swaying softly to a soundtrack of whispers and wind. You can see your pale reflections on the window. The image akin to that of ghost lovers lost to time, only united by the sound of emptiness when time is frozen. Maybe is because of that image of emptiness and stillness, and because you already decided to leave that you tell him:
"I'm sorry.” It's said so softly, so hopelessly, that Namjoon nearly misses it.
There’s so much he could say to that and yet…He puts a hand on your chin and pulls you away just enough to look at your face. With your eyebrows frowning and your beautiful eyes wide scanning him, you look as scared as Namjoon feels. Namjoon traces your face with his thumb: eyebrow to temple to cheek to your lips. This last caress makes your lips part a little, enough for only a thread of air to pass, and eyes flutter. 
There’s so much he could say, but there's only one thing he wants. 
Your lips touch in a strong kiss. A kiss that is like that first leap of courage into a cold pool. You know the water will be cold at first, but you also know that if you don't jump, you'll never get into the pool. And just like in a pool, neither of you breathe for a while. Just like in a pool, Namjoon is terrified of that first splash of water, scared you'll push him away. 
The kiss ends and you catch your breaths. Not for long, though. You grab the lapel of his jacket to pull him in again and relock your lips. Now, you make sure it's a proper kiss, you take your time learning how to kiss him and how you two fit. After a swirl of your tongue, you feel his hand on your lower back put more pressure and pin you closer. Your legs open slightly and he puts one of his legs a little in between yours, his crotch rubbing against yours as you kiss. As you sink your finger deeper into his jacket, Namjoon firmly grabs the back of your neck and presses his hold. The shivers all over your body and your moan encourage him. 
A surprised gasp leaves you when Namjoon, with one hand grabbing your neck and the other around your waist, moves you until your back is against a wall. The cold surface touching your back provides a small break from the hot and heavy air between you and him. A small part of you - the part that isn’t busy kissing him - is a little shocked at how strong he got. When you first met him, he was all height and bones. You’d heard he’d started going to the gym some semesters ago, but you sorta refused to really acknowledge it and, when your eyes and body acknowledged that independently, your brain made a conscious choice to ignore it. At the moment, you don’t have much brainpower to make any choice besides making out with him. 
Namjoon likes to think he's self aware enough to not be an arrogant prick, but he can't stop the feeling of pride taking over him as you touch him with such clear appreciation of his new physique. He responds to it with his own devotion, intoxicated by your trademark perfume, the same lingering scent that would always tempt him whenever you left a room. 
You feel his toned chest and your hands travel along his strong shoulders. And you feel a bit stupid, a bit clichè, because you put your hands on his upper arms and squeeze his biceps. Kinda like in those stupid movies where the sweet bimbo cheerleader fakes coyness as she fawns over the totally not humble quarterback’s muscles. Okay, so, yeah, maybe it’s a bit eye-rolling worthy, but God! his biceps! If his biceps weren’t enough…his thighs! His thighs are huge and strong and you think you’re not really ashamed of how you gladly let him put one of them between your legs. Also, you don’t care that you two are unabashedly dry humping each other, like two horny inexperienced teenagers. Well, suppose that goes with the cheerleader-quarterback thing. Besides, Namjoon certainly doesn’t seem to mind, guiding and motivating your movements by stroking your ass. 
Jesus, dry humping someone should not feel this good. You keep going, more, more and more, feeling yourself get wetter with each move, feeling Namjoon get harder each time you feel his dick brushing against your lower belly. He lifts your leg and repositions himself at a better angle so it isn’t just the friction that’s doing it for you, but the hard pressure of his dick too making you nearly lose your mind in need of him - and he's barely touched you. How come you're affected by him like this? 
You open your eyes to see him leaving messy kisses along your skin, making his way down your neck past your collarbones. When he reaches your cleavage he makes it a point to maintain eye contact and lazily kisses the space between your breasts. Again, Namjoon isn't particularly conceited, still, he shows a boastful smirk at your eyes rolling back in pleasure. He continues his way down your body, his hands trailing its contours and feeling the soft silk of your dress he wished you weren’t wearing. 
To him, you’re beautiful like a queen: proud, imposing, and powerful. You’ve always been. He thinks it’s your sharp, intelligent eyes, your intent look, but it’s also your straight and confident posture. Looking at you at the moment, though he can still see that spark of intelligence, your eyes are heavy-lidded. Your posture is not insecure, it’s solicitous, fully ready to give in to him. But you’re still you and because you’re still you that there’s still a hint of royal impatience in the way you press yourself against his body, demanding more out of him. 
The vision of him going down past your belly button makes you take a breath and arch your back in anticipation. You'd sooner kill yourself before saying you felt butterflies in your stomach, but you do feel something. It takes all your little sense of self control to not grab his hair and lead him straight to where you want him. You don’t have a chance to actually do this since he’s already dipping even lower, eyeing you with malice and desire and nearly driving you crazy with need. You feel your nipples harden when he strokes your folds through your panties with his thumb before pushing the clothing aside. 
“Namjoon”, you moan. 
He lets out a low growling sound at that and begins exploring your pussy. Fingers and tongue take turns touching and tasting you. His fingers open and stretch you while his mouth sucks on your clit. You think you mumble something along the lines of “yes” and “there” a few times. Your fingers curl in response and your hips move following his rhythm. He licks and sucks and tastes and touches and strokes and you feel yourself closer to cumming with each movement. 
Once more, you catch a glimpse of yourselves in a window. The sight is one of pure depravation. You see how dishelved you look, your lips swollen from the kisses and hair an entangled mess on your head, dress hiked up as one of your legs is proped up on Namjoon’s shoulder, a hand of his squeezing your thigh.You’re a bit impressed at how he’s still at it, when your last few hook-ups seemed to want to eat you out as quickly as possible only to say they did it. You’ve never really seen a man who seems so happy to eat pussy like Namjoon. You watch your reflection for a little bit longer while he continues edging you.
Enough. You need all of him now.
“Namjoon”, you say breathlessly. It was a command, but your mind can only think about his tongue on your pussy. You try again. You forcefully pull his head back “Namjoon.” 
He hisses a bit due to the force of you pulling his hair. 
“Yes, Your Highness?” you squint your eyes in annoyance hearing the mocking nickname he gave you so long ago. You hated the nickname, because you knew it wasn’t a compliment, just a veiled insult of his. However, hearing it while he’s on his knees for you…not bad, you think, not bad at all. Especially when his already deep voice sounds deeper and raspy, the words coming out with a drawl.
“Bedroom. Now.”
He’s up in a second, leading you upstairs. The way up is confusing and chaotic, with the two of you nearly running but barely letting go of each other, hot and lewd kisses exchanged while you walk. You have no idea how Namjoon finds the right door. He stops kissing you only to open the bedroom’s door, which you quickly shut behind you. He tries to put you against it, but you flip him and press him to the door instead. 
For a moment, you only look at him. Spreading your hands on his muscular chest, you listen to your heavy breathing. 
“Y/N.” 
You kiss him again. You put your lips on his neck and take your time there, busying your hands with taking off his jacket and then unbottuning his shirt. When you finish, you stroke his bulge through his pants. Namjoon lets out a hungry hiss that has you rubbing your thighs together. The point of stroking him was to tease Namjoon, you wanted to see if you could get him so worked up as he’d done to you. Unfortunately for you, you find out that that’s a double edged sword and it’s sharper end is pointed towards you, because the more you touch him the more you feel yourself get hotter. Having him in your hand only makes your mouth water. 
There’s only one thing you can think of right now. You pull his member out of his pants, stroking the full length once before you turn him and push him down on the bed. Namjoon watches you crawl onto the bed and fully take off his pants and underwear. It’s not slow and sweet or careful. Every motion of yours is aggressive and fast, eyes gleaming with a hungry determination Namjoon is sure is mirrored in his own eyes. You’re beautiful, so so beautiful. On all fours over him like a fucking lioness ready for her meal. Just looking at you like this makes him even harder. 
Maybe the gentlemanly thing would be to stop and tell  you there’s no need to repay the favor of earlier. But, well, maybe Namjoon isn’t a gentleman, after all. And he’d surely never deny you of anything, not when you so clearly want him. The idea of you wanting him just a fraction of how much he wants you is the best feeling in the world. Or rather, the second best. Because the first is definitely the feeling of your mouth on him. 
You take his full length in your mouth, coating his dick with your saliva. Namjoon watches as you alternate between teasing kitten licks on his cockhead and properly sucking him off, your hands griping the base of his cock. God, you’re not simply beautiful, you’re gorgeous. He fights against the urge to roll back in his eyes in order to watch you going down on him. Your hair is thrown around, some of it tickling his thigh while your head keeps bobbing up and down, your makeup is smeared and your dress is a crumpled mess. And you’re gorgeous.
You make eye contact with him with your lips still wrapped around him and he thinks he’s gonna die. Or cum. Probably both. Maybe it’s his dick talking, but he thinks he’d die happy right now. 
“Tell me what you like”, you tell him. 
“You.”
The immediate blurted out answer shocks you a bit. You scoff. 
“You really can’t keep it in.”
In the split second you don’t move, Namjoon starts to deflate. He ruined everything. He waits for you to get up and leave. 
You don’t. 
You lean forwards and kiss him. The kiss is nothing more than just the press of your lips together. You ignore the still lingering doubt in Namjoon’s eyes. Reaching past him, you go through the drawers on the nightstand. As you look for condoms, your tits are hanging above Namjoon’s head and he peppers kisses on them. After a few seconds, you get the condom out the drawer. 
Namjoon tries taking it out of your hands.
“Give me, I can do it.”
“No”, you stop him. “It’s fine.”
You kiss him lightly on the cheek. Namjoon has to stop for a bit. You’d never been so…soft with him before. Not even in those few months long ago when you had been something akin to friends. 
Not wasting any time, you put the condom on his cock. You quickly take your panties off and guide his lenght to where you want it. You two stare at each other as you sink yourself on his cock. Moaning at how he stretches you out. You love how full he makes you feel. He’s so big, his cock makes you feel so good. Having him in your mouth was one thing, having him inside you was heavenly. You place a hand on Namjoon’s chest. 
“Lay down.”
Because you personally believe feminism is about having a buff hot nerdy guy under you while you get yourself off. 
Head on the pillows, he watches you move your hips, leading him in a slow sensual rhythm. Moaning, your head rolls back in pleasure, mouth open to help you breathe better. The two of you pick up the pace, you bouncing on his cock a little then reverting back to grinding. 
“Y/N, your dress. Please.”
Understanding what he means, you pull your dress above your head and toss it to the side. With both hands holding your hips, he only gives your tits a dazed glare. He keeps watching when you take your own hand and play with your tits. Namjoon growls and thrusts his hips upwards harder when you lick two of your fingers and use them to play with your nipples, caressing and pinching them, your palms massaging the rest of the soft flesh. 
“Like that?” 
The raspiness of your voice, that sparkle of meanness in your eyes, that one raised eyebrow on your face…it’s all almost too much for Namjoon. You are gorgeuous. And he’s so impossibly hard. 
“Yeah.” 
The word almost doesn’t come out. You shake your head and giggle at him. Only you. Only you could be bouncing on a guy’s cock, suck him off, have him eat you out, and, with just a little giggle, make the guy blush. Still, if feels so good to make you laugh. Even if it’s at him. So good. 
Almost beats being inside of you. Almost.
Namjoon flips you and lays you down on the bed. Immediately after you hit the mattress, he’s already on you, mouth licking and sucking on you tit. His pace gets faster, more franctic, more desperate. Hitting deeper and deeper. When he hits a sweet spot, you moan louder. 
“Yeah, there. More. More. Yes. Yeah,” you repeat the words like a mantra. 
“So beautiful”, he tells you. “Almost there, baby.”
God, the pet name. “Can’t take it anymore”, you say.
“Yeah, you can, baby. You can take it all.”
He knows you can. You - open wide for him, hair spread on the pillows like a halo, nipples hardened for him, pussy clenching around him - can take it. You are the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. 
On top of you, Namjoon looks like a fucking beast, in the best way possible. Eyebrows furrowed and barring his teeth, his honey skin sprinkled with sweat. A drop of it slips from his forehead and falls on your cheek and you finally cum. Moaning his name over and over. He put his mouth again on your tit, gritting your nipple between his front teeth. With a final moan out of you, Namjoon empties himself inside the condom. 
For a few seconds, you don’t move, just listen to each other breathing. Namjoon feels himself getting softer inside you and, on the back of his mind, he dreads the moment he pulls out from you. Dreads the moment you realise whatever you were doing was over, and so was your business with him. 
Still, he can’t stay inside you forever. He pulls out. 
He busies himself with taking the condom off him and throwing it away while he notices you get tissues from the nightstand to clean yourself up. He mentally kicks himself for not doing it for you, but then again, maybe you don’t want him doing this for you. That’s another kind of intimacy you haven’t given him the greenlight to do. Your voice breaks him out of his thoughts. 
“Where’s the bathroom?” 
You put your dress back on and his heart aches. “First door to the right. Hey, uh - “ he begins before you leave “I’ll go get water. Do you want some?” 
You shake your head and leave the room. 
Silently, he puts his underwear and pants back on and goes to the kitchen, trying all the way down to not think of you. 
He stays a little bit longer than needed in the kitchen. Even after everything, he still can’t feel sure of anything with you. There’s still that ugly feeling of inadequacy whispering in his head that he shouldn’t get his hopes up. Tonight was just a fluke. 
Namjoon goes back to the bedroom expecting you to not be there anymore. He imagines you jumping out of the bathroom window to escape him or sneaking off through the roof. If he wasn’t busy feeling sorry for what you two could’ve been, he’d probably laugh at the scenarios he made up. 
When he opens the bedroom door, though, he finds you there. Curled up under the sheets on one side of the bed. Your eyes are closed and your face is serene. He hesitates. 
“You’re not gonna sleep?” 
You ask without opening your eyes. Namjoon doesn’t answer, but he climbs onto bed behind you. He doesn’t touch you, but he’s close enough that you feel his warmth beside you and his breathing on your neck. 
A while of silence goes by. He’s not sure if you’re already asleep. However, there’s one more thing he needs to say to you, even if you don’t hear it. Something he was too much of a coward to say before.
“Stay.”
You open your eyes. You’re careful to make no move to alert him you’re still up. 
You think about his request. Stay. Part of you wants to, part of you - a very small and recent part of you that is hopeful, a part that is only there because Namjoon coaxed it out of you - says you could stay. Stay. You could stay with him. Stay in his bed. In this city. Stay… 
Like you said, though, that is a very small part of you. The biggest one is a coward. 
When Namjoon wakes up to an empty side of the bed the next day, he instantly knows what happened. 
You left. 
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author’s note: my first attempt at writing smut (at least full on smut, star to finish), hope it doesn’t suck :DDDD  any and all feedback/comments are appreciated
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