#namjoon scenario

[7ndipity]

The Morning After

Namjoon x Reader

Summary: Namjoon’s reaction to you waking up sore after a night together.

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: +18 mdni, brief smut, overstimulation, swearing, not proofread

A/N: Thanks to the lovely anon who requested this!

Masterlist

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It was still early when you woke up, face buried in the pillows as you lay on your stomach, the gentle sound of someone quietly humming your favorite song pulling you from sleep.

Slowly, you cracked your eyes open, searching out the owner of the familiar deep voice, smiling to yourself as your gaze fell on his half dressed figure, his back to you as he rummaged around in his closet.

Finding what he was looking for, he turned back towards the bed, stopping as he caught sight of your sleepy expression watching him.

“Hey.” Joon spoke softly, as if not wanting to wake you any further, coming to kneel in front of you.

“Hey,” You mumbled, stretching slowly. “Where're you going? It’s so early.”

“Just to the gym. Thought I’d get my workout in this morning, so we could have the afternoon together.” He said, smoothing down your hair.

You groaned. “How’re you not tired from last night? I can’t even move.” You replied, earning a chuckle from him.

“Well, that’s why I gotta keep my strength up.” He said, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“Namjon!” You couldn’t stop moaning his name. “Fuck, please, Namjoon!” You cried out, feeling his length twitch and pulse inside of you with every sound that left your lips.

You’d been at it for hours, Joon pounding into you from behind as if his life depended on it, pumping into you over and over, twisting you around into every position he could think of, your bodies covered in a sticky sheen of sweat and cum.

“Agh-fuck!” You whimpered, letting your head drop to the mattress, clutching into the sheets beneath you for dear life as he slipped a hand around to circle your poor abused clit.

The feeling was so overwhelming, your whole body felt like it was on fire, every snap of his hips sending a jolt of electricity through you, causing the tension to build up inside of you at an alarming rate.

You’d lost count of how many times he’d made cum, but as he suddenly picked up the pace, slamming into you with enough force to knock the wind out of you, you could feel another rapidly approaching, tears rolled down your face as your body shook in ecstasy.

“Joonie, please, ‘s too much.” You whimpered. “ ‘m gonna cum again.”

He responded by pulling you even closer to him, his fingers digging into your flesh as he dragged you upright against his chest, impaling you on his cock.

“It’s alright, Baby, you can take it.” He panted, pressing messy, wet kisses against the back of your neck. “Just one more for me, please.”

You squeezed your eyes shut, holding in your breath as Joon continued to pound up into your over sensitive pussy.

“F-fuck!” You cried, your body convulsing and going rigid as you came for the nth time around his cock.

"There it is." Joon groaned as you spasmed against him, holding you up as your body went limp from exhaustion. “Good job, Baby.”

Namjoon’s touch pulled your focus back to the present, tracing gently over your cheek down to your lips.

“You want me to bring back coffee and breakfast later?” He asked sweetly.

“Yes, please.” You said sleepily as he stood back up, going to finish packing his gym bag.

You moved to roll over and get out of the bed, letting out the tiniest whimper as you became fully aware of the soreness and sensitivity in your core and legs.

Joon froze at the sound, looking back at you concerned. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah, just a little sore.” You said, trying to sound convincing as you stood up, but your legs nearly gave out under you immediately, leaving you staggering back against the bed.

Joon jumped forward, catching you before you fell properly, holding you tightly by the waist.

“Fuck, baby, I thought you were joking!” He said, startled. “Are you okay?”

“I… I think I need to take it easy today.” You admitted weakly.

Joon stared down at you, absolutely stricken as he pulled you closer, holding you gently.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, baby.” He said guiltily. “I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

“I’m okay.” You tried to reassure him, but he paid you no mind, picking you up bridal style and carrying you to the bathroom.

“What are you doing?” You asked, clinging to him in surprise.

“I am going to run you a bath, and then we’re going to do whatever else you want to do today.”

“I thought you were going to the gym?” You said curiously.

“And leave you here when you can’t even walk? No way.” He shook his head. “I’m staying here and looking after you.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You said quietly, feeling shy.

“Yes, I do.” He said seriously. “I love you, and I want to take care of you.”

“Alright,” You replied, slightly flustered.

He kept his word, refusing to let you so much as lift a finger the rest of the day, carrying you everywhere through the house as needed and waiting on you hand and foot.

“How are you feeling?” He asked for the tenth time as you sat together watching tv after dinner, dozing on his shoulder.

“Much better.” You said, snuggling closer. “Thank you for looking after me”

“Always.” He replied, kissing the top of your head. “Is there anything else you need?”

“Can we do this again next week?” You asked, grinning up at him cheekily.

“Seriously?!” He laughed.

“Yeah, why not?” You shrugged.

“Aren’t you worried about your legs or anything?” He asked, looking at you in disbelief.

“Not if I have you to carry me around.” You said, grinning up at him as you looped your arms around his neck.

“Let’s just focus on you feeling better right now, okay?” He chuckled.

“Alright.” You relented, slumping back down to rest back against his shoulder. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” He replied, watching as your eyes drooped back shut.

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

#namjoon scenario #namjoon scenarios #namjoon drabble #namjoon smut #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x reader #bts smut #bts drabble #bts x y/n #bts x reader #bts one shot #7ndipity #bts requests

[borathae]

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

~ Requested by 🧈anon ~

Pairing: Namjoon x f.Reader

Genre: established relationship!AU, Smut 

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

Wordcount: 7.4k

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh”, you gasp, flinching back.

A window popped up.

His internet browser with multiple tabs open.

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

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

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

Better Relationship? Try Pegging.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Did I startle you?” he asks.

“Yeah, a little”, you answer him.

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

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

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

“You’re already in here, aren’t you?”

He laughs, you laugh with him.

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

“Yes.”

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

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

“I didn’t expect that”, he confesses.

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

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

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

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

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

“No, I actually did something bad.”

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

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

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

“I’m sorry”, you say honestly.

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

“Are you okay?” you ask him.

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

“Everything”, you confess quietly.

“Everything?”

You nod your head.

“Did you….did you open the browser?”

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

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

“Say something please”, you whisper.

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

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

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

“Because I was scared.”

“Scared of what?”

“That you’re silent quitting on me.”

“Huh?” he widens his eyes.

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

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

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

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

“I did.”

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

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

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

“Also?”

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

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

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

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

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

“You are?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yeah”, you say, nodding your head.

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

“You’re really hot right now.”

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

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

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

“Do you wanna do it tonight?”

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

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

“I bought one.”

“You did what?”

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

“You really want this, don’t you?”

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

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

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

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

“Twitchy”, you tease.

“I’m horny”, he confesses.

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

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

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

“That would be lovely, puppy.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Of course you are.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I cleaned out”, he told you.

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

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

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

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

“What do I gotta do? I wanna help.”

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

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

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

“I don’t want to hurt you”, you said.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Try it like this.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Are you sure?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Beg me one more time.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Namjoon looks at you and laughs.

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

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

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

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

“Come here, puppy”, you order.

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

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

“What’s with that face?” you ask him.

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

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

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

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

“Get on all fours”, you order.

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

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

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

He tenses up and moans, pushing back into you.

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

“Open?”

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

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

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

“Hurry up”, Namjoon stresses.

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

“I’m so messed up, seriously fuck.”

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

Namjoon lowers himself gladly, gripping the sheets in anticipation.

“Ready?”

“Yes, please.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“It feels good?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Hurts?!” you gasp.

“Please! There!”

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

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

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

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

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

“Fuck”, you get out.

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

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

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

“Hug me please”, he begs.

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

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

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Really?” he asks.

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

“Of course.”

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

“Really?” he asks in a shy laugh.

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

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

“Me too, Joonie. I felt amazing.”

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

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

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

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

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[muniimyg]

NAKED // KNJ

note to self: take baths alone from now on

+

in which nam joon takes any and every opportunity to see you naked

pairing: boyfriend nam joon + oc 

au/genre:

(new) established relationship

non-idol au

fluff, crack, and smut

warnings:

explicit langauge and behaviour ...

cockwarming & riding,, some titty grabbing & basic ass position changes

THEY SAY ILY FOR THE FIRST TIME :D

note: originally posted on @/meowachi ,, revised !!

🏷️ permanent taglist: @joonsjuice @taetaecatboy @pb-n-juju @miss-rainy-days @firesighgirl @whoa-jo @vantxx95 @pamzn @kakixaku @casspirit0705 @tae165 @prdshobi @sopebubbles @leefics @ggukkieland @bebebutbetter @yoongimentita7 @vampcharxter @miss-jupiter @floweryjeons @taegijns

The water is colder than you expected. 

Your body reacts with goosebumps to which you let out a shiver. Maybe you took too much time getting everything ready that you missed this bath water’s prime temperature… Guess you didn’t girl-math this right. 

Oh well. 

There’s always next time, right?

Thankfully, his bare body holding yours makes it easier to adjust. He nuzzles his chin on your shoulder and wraps his arms around your waist, not missing the chance to hold your breasts for a moment. You scold him as if it’s second nature and he leaves a trail of kisses up and down your neck as an apology. 

Then, you take this moment in. Honestly, setting up music was a good idea. Along with the scented candles, the bubbles in your bath, the bath lavender bath bomb, and the bath salts—all such amazing details. Everything would’ve been perfect if only Nam Joon wasn’t complaining every five seconds. 

“I hate baths.”

“I don’t know what I’m doing here.”

“The bath salts went up my ass—”

Finally, you shush him.

“Please,” he cries, “can we fuck?”

Rolling your eyes, you raise your hand and flick him with your fingers. He purses his lips and shuts his eyes in response. Nam Joon sighs, feeling defeated for the nth time tonight. Prior to this bath, he had suggested shower sex. To which, you argued you’d be too afraid to try since you’re as clumsy as they come… And he himself… Well, it was nice of him to ask.

It’s not like you didn’t want to have sex tonight… No, of course, you do. Your handsome and beefy boyfriend was naked, holding you.. Who wouldn’t be turned on? You just feel like being annoying. You want to push him as far as you can. You want to see how good he stays. How well self-disciplined he is. 

So, you sink into his body again, taking another deep breath in. 

Let’s try this again.

Relax.

You want to relax. 

That’s all you want to do.

It doesn’t last. A few giggles escape your lips as he begins to place small kisses on your shoulder all the way to the sides of your face. 

“Nam Joon…” you attempt to sound annoyed.

In his low voice, he hums; “Yes, my love?”

“You’re not making me feel relaxed!” Suddenly, you squirm as he bites your shoulder playfully. “I want to—stop that! I just want to relax, Joonie! You said you wanted to join me. You insisted.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he murmurs, only half meaning his apology. No, he wasn’t sorry. He was a man, after all. What idiot would turn down being naked in a tub of water with you? Fucking losers, that’s who. 

He squishes your body closer to him. “So... is this what you do?” 

You nod.

“Is this all that you do? This is so boring. You don’t even have those ducks to play with or like a toy boat that moves—”

“Nam Joon,” you warn, groaning at how talkative he’s becoming. “You can leave. I wouldn’t mind watching you ass walk away right now.” 

He laughs in response, getting the hint. You want to relax. He wants to be with you. This was the middle ground.

“Sorry,” he means it this time. “I’m just bored.. Like, I pictured this to be more… Sexy? Aren’t you supposed to seduce me?” Nam Joon wiggles his eyebrows at you. To that, you offer him and confused look.

“Who knows? Maybe I’ve been seducing you this entire time..” you gaslight.

He lowers his gaze. “You’ve been ignoring me since the minute we settled in the tub.”

“Aren’t you turned on?”

“No.”

You smile at him warmly, yet your tone is cold. “My love, if that’s the case… Then why do I feel your dick poking in between my legs right now?” 

He gulps.

“It’s hard.”

“I thought you said it’s boring.”

Nam Joon whines, “___, my dick is hard. I’m bored. Please sit on it.”

You gasp. 

Although, you can’t say you aren’t surprised. You’ve been together for less than a year yet he has never missed a chance to suggest such acts. Most days, you’d give in and it would be a good time. But today… You figure it would be much more fun to be a tease. This mood is sponsored by your incoming period. Regardless if it’s PMS or all your stress from work; it didn’t really matter. You just knew you weren't in the mood for super wet, slippery, hot sex in cold bath water. Imagine all the water that would be splashed on the floor! You’d be the one left to clean all of it up. Nam Joon would probably slip and hurt himself if you ordered him to do the cleaning duties.

“Okay,” you tease. “I’ll sit on your dick.”

He cheers. 

“But I won’t move.”

“W-what?” Nam Joon blinks. 

You shrug, pushing yourself up on his lap. When you find his length, you quickly guide it inside of you. No warning, not even a little rub in between. Nam Joon gulps the second he feels his cock inside of you. Unlike the water, you’re so warm. He hisses, feeling his dick begin to throb inside your tight walls. 

“M-mean,” he hisses. “You’re so mean.”

Ignoring him, you sink yourself even deeper. Now, he’s fully inside you and you’re completely sitting on him. You feel his tip and how far he is inside you.. It makes your body feel tingles and you honestly contemplate if you should just give in.

He feels so good. 

… And you hate to admit it but you overestimated yourself.

You’re having a hard time too. 

Yet, you stick it through. You have to! Rare are the moments you get where Nam Joon loses complete control.

“You asked me to sit on your dick. Sure, I’ll sit on your dick… But I’m not moving. I’m not going reverse cowgirl style. I’m not going doggy. I’m not fucking you.”

“So you’re just going to cockwarm me?” he asks, feeling betrayed. “But you love riding me!”

You glare at him. “No, I don’t. It’s tiring. It’s boring.” 

Nam Joon’s eyebrows furrow together. He tries his best to focus on your words and not how perfect you are inside of him. He’s stressed as fuck but he needs to prove to you that he can get through this… He has a feeling that winning you over will get him the reward he’s been after. 

“Then why do you do it?” 

This is news to him too. You always looked like you enjoyed riding him. Honestly, you probably ride him more than you two do in any other position. Also, why would he question it? You never really complained until now. It’s one of the things he liked so much about you.. It’s like, you just knew him. 

“You love it and I love you—”

Your eyes widen.

Did you really just say that? All this time, you were worried about slipping… Who knew it wasn’t about your body but rather your words? 

You two haven’t said it to each other yet. God, this is so fucking embarrassing. In this position too? In a fucking cold ass bath? It should’ve been more romantic! Plus, he should’ve said it first! You had it all planned out.. You were going to get it out of him before you could say it first. 

As you open your mouth to deny, take back, or spit out an excuse, his words make your world stop. 

“I love you too.”

Your breath hitches. “W-what?”

“Yeah,” he scratches the back of his neck. “I’ve been meaning to tell you.. For the past like… Six months but I couldn’t find the right moment. I figured one day, you’d just get it out of me yourself.” Nam Joon looks awfully shy to you right now. It makes your heart flutter. 

“I thought the same,” you confess. “I wanted you to say it first.”

“Okay,” Nam Joon chuckles, “Then I said it first.”

Your heart begins to pound louder and faster. God, was he always this good with words? In all honesty, Nam Joon has no problem being the first to yield or confess.. He just needed time. Right now, he knew it well. You’re the right person at the right time. He’s so grateful.

“I wanted it to be more romantic.”

Instantly, he dips his head and kisses you slowly. When he pulls away, he rests his forehead against yours. “A slow kiss. Romantic, right? Better?”

You shake your head. 

“You have to hold my hand when you say it,” you whine. “It only makes sense that way.”

“Then, you have to look at me,” he negotiates. “You can’t be looking the other way when I say it.”

“Fine.”

You shift, pulling his dick out for a second. You adjust yourself, opening your legs and facing him. Now, your breasts were completely in front of him. He takes slow deep breaths as you put him inside you again. You wrap your arms around his neck and tilt your head. 

God, you’re so sexy.

With or without clothes, Nam Joon thinks you’re the sexiest human to ever exist. It wasn’t because your body was perfect; it was all because of the way you carried your confidence. It was that exact something he sensed and fell into an intense trance over. Moments like these play over and over in his head when he’s away from you. Moments where he feels so close to you. Physically, this was it. There is nothing more he could ask for. 

You: naked and on top of him. 

But more than that, what makes moments like these so special is the fact that he feels like he knows your soul. Bare, imperfect and so loving. It was sexy to have someone like you. It was something he had never experienced before with past loves. This was a first for him. A first real, sexy, and beautiful love. It was more than your body—it always has been. Regardless, who is he to not try? At the end of the day, he has needs. 

“Say it.” 

He laughs as he intertwines your fingers together. He raises them above the water to show you. Bringing your hands to his lips, he looks up at you and kisses your knuckles. 

“I love you, ___.”

You pout. 

He kisses your wrist and then pulls you closer to him. He kisses your breast, your collarbone, your shoulder, your cheeks, and the corner of your lip. “I’ve loved you for a while now. I’m sorry it took a cold bath to get it out of me.”

“Should’ve taken a bath together sooner.”

He laughs into your kiss. “Too bad the bath salts aren’t making me feel too sexy right now,” he confesses his uncomfortability. This is his last attempt. “Unless…”

“Spit it out,” you say, unamused.

“It’s just—”

“We’re not fucking in this bath of cold water, Joon. Give it up!” you laugh as you cup his cheeks together. You squish his lips with your thumb and index, making kissy faces at him. “No more fucking around.”

His suggestive eyes suddenly soften. “Fucking? ___, I wanted to make love… Since, you know.. I love you.”

Three times.

He said, “I love you,” three times now.

And perhaps, you’re not built for this hard-to-get lifestyle when the love of your life says such dreamy things. Of course, you’d give in. As they all say; the third time’s a charm. 

You burst into laughter, unable to hold yourself back. Desperately, you kiss him for what feels like forever, and as much as you resist; you end up riding him. 

The second you move yourself up and down, Nam Joon’s eyes widen and he smiles into the kiss. He can’t believe he won you over. 

“Fucking finally… Or should I say… Finally fucking?” Nam Joon chides, liking his word play more than he should.

Nerd alert.

You grunt, “s-shut up.” 

As you two continue to make out, you begin to move your hips as you slowly but surely begin to bounce on his hard cock. It feels so good to finally do this. As you move at a faster pace, the water begins to splash and for a second, you turn your head to make sure it isn’t going to flood the floor. But Nam Joon places his hand on your chin and the top of your neck, guiding you to look at him. 

“Don’t look away,” he hisses. “It’s just water. Focus on me.”

You nod, biting the inside of your cheeks. 

For stability, you place your hands on his chest. You feel his heart and how fast it’s racing. His skin has little goosebumps due to the cold water, but you can also see sweat from his forehead lightly layer on top of his perfect skin. His eyebrows are knitted together, as he gathers all his mental strength not to cum yet. At one point, you see his lips make an ‘o’. Why was he trying so hard to last? 

“Just cum,” you assure him. “It’s fine.”

He shakes his head, refusing to give in this early. “It’s your fucking boobs,” Nam Joon blames. “Mmhff—s-shit. What the hell. Fuck it.” 

Without warning, he places his hands on your waist and lifts you up. Nam Joon gently, yet firmly, turns you over. Your chin rests just over the rim of the tub, along with your arms. Your back is arched as he backs your ass up to his dick. He takes his fingers and plays with your clit for a bit. You moan, unable to fathom just how fucking sexy this all is. You feel yourself coming close. Before you know it, he sticks himself back in and begins to pump. Nam Joon pumps himself at a steady pace. At first, they were short and fast strokes that made the water spill over and you moan louder than usual. As you reach your peak and so does he; his strokes transition to long and deep ones. 

After a few more pumps, he lets himself go and cups your breasts with his hands. You don’t feel his cum inside of you as your walls still tingle, but you know it’s inside. Regardless of the water, you just know he creamed you messy as usual. 

As you two catch your breath, he kisses your neck once again. 

“For round two…” Nam Joon teases, “I’m thinking shower sex. Thoughts?”

“Haha,” you play along. “No.”

Nam Joon pouts, giving you puppy eyes. “... But I love you.” 

You can’t help but melt.

Oh, you’re so fucked.

You know for a fact he’ll be using this line for a while… And it’ll work. He’ll get you every time. But it’s okay! You love him too. You want him too. You need him too.

Besides, you’ll be charging him the water bill.

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[yoonia]

The (im)Perfect Ending | knj (18+)

⤑ 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?

⤑ 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

⤑ Main Masterlist | Taglist | Feedback | Mailbox | Ko-fi | Music companion

⤑ Read on AO3

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.”

“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.  

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.  

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. 

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. 

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.

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.” 

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.

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. 

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.“

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.

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. 

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. 

⤑ 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!

— © 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

#k-vanity #bangtanwhq #bangtansorciere #namjoon smut #namjoon fanfic #namjoon scenario #namjoon angst #namjoon fluff #namjoon x reader #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #bts x reader #rm smut #rm scenarios #rm angst #rm fanfic

[kingofbodyrolls]

Sprout | knj | mini series masterlist

Summary: You love your plants, you love your garden, you do not love your new neighbor. You hate him with all your might— he wrecks everything you hold dear so you do the only reasonable thing: retaliate. 

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader 

AUs: neighbors au, gardening au → strangers to enemies to friends to lovers 

Genres: slice of life, smut, humor

Rating: explicit

Word count: 20.7K

Status: completed

Disclaimer: I do not own BTS or know them personally and this work of fiction is purely fictional and for entertainment purposes only. The actions and personalities described in the story do not reflect those of BTS— it’s just fiction. Also, if you would kindly read the tags before reading, that would be lovely: and if you don’t like whatever is described in the tags, just hit return and find something else to read. Thank you 🌸

Warnings: will be tagged for each individual chapter, but overall it includes the following: reader is just a really mean brat on a warpath. That entails pranks and vandalism and overall pettiness 👀 Namjoon has a driver’s license in this (this is a warning yes 😂), (somewhat) rough smut; degrading name calling (bitch), hair pulling, spanking, very brief anal fingering, some cockwarming, throat fucking, breast and nipple play, sexual tension, stupid innuendos, oral (both receiving), multiple orgasms, unprotected sex (please don’t be stupid), praise kink, begging, exhibitionism, slight dom/sub themes 👀 big dick Joonie, creampie, aftercare — I think that’s it!

🌱 Chapter 1 - Greenhouse | word count: 3.7K | Read → chapter one

🌱 Chapter 2 - To snap a twig | word count: 3.8K | Read → chapter two

🌱 Chapter 3 - Bloom | word count: 5K | Read → chapter three

🌱 Chapter 4 - Housewarming party | word count: 8.2K | Read → chapter four [FIN]

#sprout series #namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #kim namjoon #namjoon #namjoon scenario #bts kim namjoon #kim namjoon smut #kim namjoon x reader #kim namjoon fic #namjoon x you #knj x you #knj smut #knj x reader #knj #rm bts #rm x reader #rm #rm smut #bts rm #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts smut #bts x reader #bts x you #bangtan x reader #bangtan smut #bangtan fanfic #bangtan fic #bangtan

[hamsterclaw]

Bloom

Bangtan Christmas 2023 drabble 2 - read the rest here.

In a post-nuclear war world, all you have is your son Jiwon. You'd do anything to keep him safe, including putting your trust in your new neighbour Kim Namjoon. You hope you haven't made the biggest mistake of your life.

Pairing: Namjoon x f! reader

Rating: 18+

Genre: Dystopian future AU, smut, single mother reader

Warnings: Sex, swearing, violence

Word count: 7.5k

With thanks to @vyduan for helping me work out the kinks (heh) in this story. Love you, Vy.

Author note: Written in response to an ask I got early in the year - a story I've kept chipping away at and now it's finally finished. Anon, I think about you often and I hope you and your kids are doing well. I hope you've had time to heal and no longer think of yourself as a heartbroken single mom, because you are and have always been more than that.

Your breath comes out in puffs of white as you carry an armful of logs to the furnace powering your greenhouse.

Inside, the air is humid, warm, perfect for the vegetables you’re carefully cultivating. Outside, the cold of a perennial winter’s seeped into your bones.

Nothing grows outside, not since the Great War. 

You wonder why they call it ‘great’ when everything is worse now than it was before the war.

You’re emerging from the greenhouse, wiping your hands on a soiled rag, when you hear your new neighbour singing softly.

He’s got a melodious voice with a gorgeous husky tone. You smile to yourself as he sings a tune you know.

Suddenly he stops. ‘Oh shit!’

There’s a clatter of metal against worksurface, the unmistakeable sound of breakage.

You walk up to the wire fence and call out. ‘Need a hand?’

There’s another clatter, then the door to the greenhouse opens and you meet your new neighbour face to face for the first time.

He’s tall, broad shouldered, with a face that makes you wish you’d bothered to comb your hair before you stepped outside this morning.

‘I — uh— heard the noises and just thought I’d check if you were ok,’ you explain.

He rubs the back of his neck sheepishly. ‘Do you have a spare pot? I’ll get you a replacement today, but right now my chilli plant is all over my worktable.’

‘Oh,’ you say, quickly turning. You enter your own greenhouse and emerge with one of your own pots.

‘Here,’ you say, holding it out to him. Your fingertips brush as he takes the pot from you, and you hope you don’t look too flustered.

You say, waving a hand, ‘Don’t worry about a replacement.’

‘My chillies and I thank you,’ he says, so solemnly you laugh.

He smiles warmly at you, and dimples appear in his cheeks.

The juxtaposition of his large frame and his delicately pretty dimples is doing something odd to your fickle heart.

You clear your throat. ‘I’m Y/N,’ you say, suddenly feeling shy. 

‘Namjoon,’ he replies. 

You turn as your son Jiwon approaches, rubbing his eyes sleepily.

You pull off your coat and wrap it around him. 

‘Come on, let’s go inside before you get too cold, ok?’

Jiwon, wrapped in your coat, looks curiously at Namjoon.

‘This is my son, Jiwon. Jiwon, this is our new neighbour Namjoon,’ you say.

You put your arm around Jiwon and lead him back to the house.

‘It was nice to meet you,’ you call over your shoulder.

When you look back, Namjoon’s still standing by the fence, looking at you. 

He waves, once, then turns to go back inside.

***

Jiwon regards you over the porridge bowl you’ve made for his breakfast. 

His eyes are serious, too serious considering he’s barely eight. 

You wish there was a way to protect him from the world.

Instead you make sure he eats, and drinks, and wears his warm coat, because the world may be fucked up but your son isn’t going to go without, not on your watch anyway.

You wonder where Jiwon’s father is now but can’t muster up any emotion about it. The burning desire to watch him suffer faded long ago, leaving nothing in its place.

A blank where your perfect life used to be.

You clear away the plates and pull on your coat. 

‘Ready?’

You walk Jiwon to the single room, little more than a shed, where the makeshift school now is, and as you kiss him goodbye and promise him you’ll pick him up later, you wonder whether things will ever change.

It’s been five years since nuclear warfare destroyed the world, four since Jiwon’s father left, and you’re still waiting for life to get better.

Lost in your thoughts, you nearly bump into a uniformed guard.

You bow and apologise profusely.

You can’t see any of the guards’ faces, but you know they make liberal use of their steel batons. 

The pain of a physical beating, though, would pale in comparison to being detained by the intention readers.

You could recover from a beating, but not from being thoughtwiped.

You shiver and resolve to be more careful as you walk the rest of the way to the community gardenhouse to start your work.

***

You glance at your watch and pick up the pace. You’re late to pick up Jiwon. There had been a raid at the gardenhouse just before you were due to leave, and you and the other gardeners had been searched for contraband.

You arrive at the schoolhouse just in time to see Jiwon being questioned by a guard.

Your heart stops, and you hurry forward, already apologising to the three guards standing over your son.

He’s slight, small for his age, and he looks even smaller surrounded by guards.

You step in front of Jiwon, putting your arm out to keep him behind you.

‘I’m sorry,’ you say, bowing low.

The cold steel of a baton nudges under your chin, hard enough to lift your head.

Terror slices through you as the guard stares down at you, but you try your best to keep still.

The other guard says, ‘Hey, Jaebeom. The General wants us back. Let’s go.’

The baton stills, then the guard withdraws it and holsters it.

He turns away without another look at you.

You grasp Jiwon’s hand, and you don’t let go until you’re safely home.

***

The thin light of dawn’s cutting into the horizon when you emerge from your front door.

Snow’s been falling all night, is still falling now, piled up on your short garden path. You lift the shovel off the hook by your door and get to work clearing the path.

This early, the snow’s still icy and hard to shovel away.

You’re breathing hard by the time you get to the gate, arms aching, face damp with sweat.

Your neighbour Namjoon’s front gate swings open and he walks out, wrapped up warm.

He slows down when he sees you but doesn’t stop. 

You give a small smile which he returns before walking off.

You watch him go and wonder what he does to be leaving so early. 

You see Jiwon’s light come on and hurry inside to make breakfast.

***

There’s blood in the snow when you arrive back home with Jiwon at the end of the day, drops of red splattered in a trail to your neighbour’s door.

You herd Jiwon safely inside and your conscience gets the better of you.

You walk next door and knock.

It’s a while before Namjoon answers, but as soon as he does you know you’ve done the right thing coming over.

He looks terrible, pale and wincing in pain. There’s a wound in his shoulder, his chest is bare.

You say, ‘let me help,’ and then he’s stepping back, sitting heavily down on a chair. 

He’s so tall you barely have to lean down to look at his shoulder.

‘Can you stitch?’ he asks, voice tight, body taut.

‘I’ll patch you up,’ you tell him.

You worked in a field hospital during the War.

Namjoon grits his teeth, pale and tense, whilst you patch his wound.

By the time you’ve dressed it, there’s a fine sheen of sweat on his forehead.

You don’t like how pale he is.

‘I have to get back to Jiwon,’ you tell him.

He nods.

Something about the way he slumps back in his seat, quiet and exhausted, makes you say, ‘I can stay overnight to watch you, if you have a spare bed for Jiwon to sleep in?’

Namjoon stares at you for so long you make the decision for him.

‘Come on, let me get you to bed,’ you say.

He staggers as he stands, and automatically you slip an arm around his waist.

He leans heavily on you as you take him to his bedroom and help him onto the bed.

He lays down, eyes already closed. 

You wait until his breathing eases and then you go to get Jiwon.

By the time you get back, Jiwon in tow, Namjoon’s dead asleep.

You make Jiwon comfortable in the adjoining room, hoping Namjoon won’t mind, and set your alarm to check on him periodically.

He sleeps most of the night, waking up once to stumble to the bathroom.

You get up to check on him. ‘Are you all right, Namjoon?’

Thankfully your presence doesn’t seem to alarm him. 

‘I’m fine,’ he says, but you can see the sheen of sweat across his forehead.

You fetch a glass of water and some pain meds from his kitchen. He’s still awake when you knock on his door.

He gulps the water and swallows down the medicine gratefully and lays back. 

There’s something about the irregular rhythm of his breathing that makes you offer your hand.

‘The meds will kick in soon,’ you promise him. You squeeze his hand gently. 

He murmurs a thank you. When his breathing evens out and the grip of his hand eases, you pull the blanket over his chest and make your way back to the other room where Jiwon is.

It’s sometime just before dawn when you wake. Namjoon’s extra bedroom has a pretty view of his backyard, his greenhouse. The rolling hills in the distance are bare in the winter cold, starkly beautiful.

For the first time in a long time, you wonder where Jiwon’s father is, how he’s doing. If he ever thinks of Jiwon, or you. Beside you, Jiwon stirs. 

‘Mama?’ 

‘Yes, baby?’

‘I’m not a baby,’ Jiwon says indignantly.

‘Ssssh, you’ll wake Namjoon up. Are you hungry?’

Jiwon yawns a little. People have always said he doesn’t look like you or his dad, but in moments like this you can see yourself in him.

‘Come on. Let’s go home and I’ll make breakfast, ok?’

You check on Namjoon as you pass his room, only to find he’s already dressed.

He stands when he sees you, and you’re reminded of the height difference between you.

You step back. ‘Sorry, I just wanted to make sure —‘

As though he’s aware of how his height and size intimidate you, he stops where he is.

‘I want to thank you for looking after me last night,’ he says. ‘Will you have breakfast with me?’

Jiwon marvels so openly at the sugary cereal Namjoon produces from a cupboard you can’t help but smile.

Single parenthood in a post nuclear war world has been challenging, and you’re scared about how many E numbers it’s taken to produce a cereal this unnaturally bright, but Jiwon’s so excited it’s worth it. 

Namjoon offers you some, and you accept with a smile. He smiles back at you so warmly that you drop your eyes.

Even injured and tired, your neighbour is the kind of handsome man you don’t think would look twice at you normally.

You cover your skittishness by staring down into your cereal as if fascinated.

By the time you gather the courage to look up, Jiwon’s finished his food. 

You’re about to get up to take him home when Namjoon puts out a hand to stop you. ‘Finish your breakfast,’ he says quietly. 

He gets up. ‘Come on, Jiwon, I hurt my shoulder yesterday, can you help me in the greenhouse until your mum finishes her food?’

Jiwon falls into step beside Namjoon so naturally you have no qualms about letting them go together. There’s a funny lump in your throat as you watch them walking together through the kitchen window. 

You tell yourself sternly to keep it together and not to assign a romantic narrative to your handsome neighbour who’s clearly just repaying your kindness from yesterday. 

By the time Namjoon and Jiwon get back, you’ve finished your breakfast and washed up. The kitchen looks like you and Jiwon were never there.

‘Thank you,’ Namjoon says. ‘For looking after me yesterday.’

‘It was no bother at all,’ you tell him, sincerely. ‘Thank you for breakfast.’

You nod to his chest. ‘You should get the wound checked out at the clinic today.’

‘I will,’ Namjoon promises. He waves goodbye to Jiwon and you, standing on his doorstep until you’ve rounded the fence to your side.

***

You’re walking with Jiwon back from school when you realise there’s someone waiting at your door. You can’t see clearly in the evening light, and you tuck Jiwon closer into your side as you approach.

You call a greeting, and a moment later the person steps into the light and you realise it’s Namjoon.

‘Hi,’ you say, unable to hide your relief.

‘Hi,’ he replies, ‘I didn’t mean to scare you. I was just by the river and I passed a cart selling these and I thought Jiwon might like them.’

He holds out a paper wrapped bundle of bungeoppang, still warm despite the cold.

Jiwon’s reached out, already thanking him, and you look up at Namjoon.

‘Thank you, that’s very kind of you, they’re his favourite.’

‘There’s enough for both of you,’ Namjoon says.

He’s stepping away, halfway down your yard when he stops. 

‘Your gate lock’s broken,’ he says. ‘I can help you fix it if you want.’

‘Don’t trouble yourself,’ you say hastily. The lock’s been broken for a while, you’d meant to fix it but it’s been a busy month at the communal greenhouse.

‘It’s not safe,’ he says gently. ‘Not with both of you in the house.’

His words, though gently spoken, send a flush of shame through you.

He must think you’re such a mess, incapable of even keeping yourself and your son safe. 

He doesn’t give you time to answer. ‘I have tools. I’ll come over tomorrow and fix it, ok?’

‘Thank you,’ you say. There’s a quiver in your voice, you hope he doesn’t know you well enough to hear it. 

You open your door and usher Jiwon in from the cold.

***

You’re clearing your garden path the next morning, shovelling snow, when Namjoon comes to fix the gate. 

He nods politely at you, then gets to work. He doesn’t seem to want to chat, particularly, but that’s fine with you as you’re out of breath from clearing the path anyway. 

Namjoon disappears briefly once the lock’s fixed, comes back with a bag of grit over his shoulder. 

‘Let me grit your path,’ he offers, and you let him as he’s already brought the damn stuff over.

You invite him in as you prepare Jiwon’s breakfast.

He sits at your table, looking big in your small kitchen but not out of place.

There’s a picture on the wall of you and Jiwon’s father, from the Christmas that Jiwon turned two.

You can see him looking at it as you pass him a mug.

Namjoon asks, ‘Is that Jiwon’s father?’

You look at the photo. In it, you’re holding Jiwon up, and Hiro, Jiwon’s father, is laid on the floor, tickling his feet. There are the trappings of what Christmas was like before the war scattered all around you.

Luxuries that weren’t until everything else was taken away. 

‘Yes,’ you say. You lean against the kitchen sink, hold up your own mug. ‘He left after the war.’

‘I’m sorry.’ 

He looks like he means it. 

‘It’s ok,’ you tell him, honestly. ‘We’re doing ok, and Jiwon doesn’t remember much of him.’

There’s a moment of silence, then you hear Jiwon’s footsteps coming down the stairs. 

He greets Namjoon with a total lack of surprise at seeing him at the breakfast table. You’re amused at the nonchalant way Jiwon greets Namjoon, and then you realise it might be because of Namjoon’s calm, gentle manner.

For all his size, you find it difficult to envision Namjoon ever hurting anyone or anything. 

***

The guards come for you a few weeks later, late at night when Jiwon’s asleep. You’re putting away the washing up when there’s a knocking at the door.

Impatient, demanding.

You crack the door open only to have to step back quickly as the door is pushed inward, towards you.

The two guards who enter have epaulets on their shoulders signifying them as of a low rank. 

Any rank can detain a civilian for thoughtwiping, though.

The chill in your spine is only partially environmental.

‘Are you the wife of Hiro Kwon?’ 

You keep your tone calm, steady. ‘We’re estranged. I haven’t seen him in years.’

‘We have reason to believe he stole a very important pre-war relic from General Dei.’

You know where this is going.

‘My son is sleeping upstairs, can I take him into the greenhouse whilst you search my house?’

The guard closest to you gives you a hard stare. 

‘He has nightmares,’ you say, pleading. 

You fetch Jiwon, get him dressed and take him outside whilst the guards search your house. He leans against you, quiet. You hate that events like this are a part of his life.

Next door, Namjoon’s light is on. 

When the guards come out to tell you that you can re-enter your own house, you hear Namjoon’s door opening.

He walks up to the fence, and your heart stops.

He’s wearing full guard uniform, with epaulets that show he outranks the guards questioning you.

Sweet, gentle Namjoon from next door is a high-ranking official in the guard.

And you? You’re the biggest fool alive.

He’s looking at you and Jiwon, face impassive, a muscle in his jaw ticking as he takes you in.

Beside you, Jiwon’s shivering, and automatically, you slip your coat off to wrap around him.

You turn back to the guards. You’re still struggling with the weight of recent revelations but you need to get Jiwon back inside.

‘May we go?’ 

The guard stops you, drawing his baton, and you freeze.

‘He can go. We have more questions for you.’

You can’t look at Namjoon.

‘Of course. Let me take him up to bed and I’ll answer any questions you have.’

The walk back downstairs after you put Jiwon to bed feels like your feet are too heavy for your body.

You cast an eye at the mirror in your hallway. Your expression is a perfect blank, unreadable. You already know the lengths you’ll go to, to keep Jiwon safe.

The questions start innocently enough.

When did you last see your husband?

When did he last try to contact you?

You’re asked differently worded versions of the same questions repeatedly.

Your answers get shorter as the questioning goes on, and then the baton comes out even though you haven’t moved.

It raps on the table next to your hand, and you can’t help it, you startle badly at the sound.

There’s a knock at the door, then.

You look to the guards, and the younger one gets up to answer.

He returns with Namjoon. 

Namjoon’s face is impassive. He gives you a once over, then nods to the two guards. 

‘Leave us, I’ll handle this.’ 

The tension in the room ramps up as the guards leave, and by the time the door closes behind them, it’s taking all your strength to stay still. 

Namjoon, as though sensing your turmoil, takes a step back, away from you. 

His voice is low, quiet, but you have no difficulty hearing him. 

‘Did they hurt you?’ he asks. 

You look up at him, trying to read his expression. ‘No, they didn’t,’ you answer. 

He lets out a breath that sounds relieved.

‘Have you heard from your husband?’ he asks.

‘I told you, we’re estranged,’ you reply.

You can hear Jiwon moving upstairs. You turn back to Namjoon.

‘Can I go to him? I’ll come back down, I just want to make sure he’s ok —-‘

Namjoon’s expression changes. He looks stunned. 

‘Of course, I wouldn’t stop you.’

When you come back down Namjoon’s still standing where you left him.

‘It’s late, you should go to bed,’ he says. His eyes search yours.

You look back at him, at the epaulets adorning his broad shoulders.

He must have earned them somehow. 

The thought makes you avert your eyes, set your chin.

‘I will,’ you say, neutral, cool. 

Namjoon waits like he’s got more to say, but when you look up, he’s headed to your kitchen door, letting himself out.

You lock the door behind him and breathe out, fully, for the first time in hours.

***

You wake the next morning to sounds outside your window.

There’s a man in your garden, and you’d be alarmed if Jiwon didn’t have a similar profile.

It’s Hiro.

You open the back door and gesture him in.

He looks older, thinner, but he still has the spark in his eye that drew you to him. You’re surprised to find you don’t feel anything about his sudden appearance apart from the faintest pleasure of seeing someone who was once dear to you.

You moved on out of necessity, and there’s no going back.

‘The guards are looking for you,’ you say, once you’ve made him a drink.

‘I know,’ he says. ‘I need somewhere to stay. Do you have any money?’

‘Not much,’ you tell him. ‘I can spare some.’

Hiro touches your hand, on the table in between you, and you pull back, startled.

You get up, gather the banknotes you’ve saved, and give him what you can.

‘Can I see him?’ Hiro asks.

You don’t have it in your heart to say no. ‘Don’t wake him.’

You take him upstairs to Jiwon’s room, let him peer through the crack in the door.

When Hiro turns back to you, there are tears in his eyes.

You have nothing left to say.

***

The raid on the communal greenhouse today was unexpected, and you weren’t quite quick enough to get out of the way of a wayward baton strike.

Your wrist throbs dully, your fingers are swollen, and the painkillers you dry-swallowed are only just about taking the edge off. 

You’ve sent Jiwon to bed and are trying to dislodge the sack of fertiliser from the top shelf of your greenhouse one-handed, panting at the effort, when Namjoon’s porch light comes on.

Startled, you lose your balance and fall off the crate you’re balancing on, just about managing to protect your wrist as you land.

The noise you’ve made draws Namjoon to the fence.

Thankfully, he’s not wearing his guard uniform.

When he sees you on the ground he disappears, appearing a moment later on your side of the fence, breathing hard from rushing over.

‘Are you ok?’ he asks, helping you up.

You’re about to answer when his face darkens. ‘What happened to your hand?’

Your hiss of pain when he reaches for you makes him flinch.

‘Here,’ he says. 

He cups a hand under your elbow gently, helping you back into your kitchen.

He frowns even more when he sees how swollen your wrist is.

‘We need to get you to a clinic,’ he says.

‘I can’t leave Jiwon, I’ll go in the morning,’ you tell him.

‘You can’t leave this overnight,’ Namjoon insists. 

He runs a hand over his face. ‘I’ll call my friend.’

‘I’m fine —‘

‘You aren’t,’ Namjoon says, the shortest he’s ever been with you. ‘I have a friend who’s a nurse, I’ll call him.’

You sit quietly in your kitchen as he makes the call. 

‘Jimin will be here soon,’ he tells you when he returns.

You’re too on edge to ask about Jimin.

You want to tell him that you’re fine, but when you open your mouth, you say, ‘Hiro, my ex husband, came here yesterday asking for money.’

Namjoon considers this in silence.

‘If the guards find out —-‘

‘I’m sure as hell not going to tell them,’ Namjoon says, sharp. ‘And neither should you.’

‘You’re a guard,’ you point out. 

‘And you told me because you know I’m not like them,’ Namjoon says. His voice is neutral, without inflection. 

‘I told you because I don’t want you to get into trouble because of your association with me. Especially after they came looking for Hiro,’ you argue. 

You get up. ‘And yes, because you aren’t like them.’ 

As soon as you say the words you realise they’re true. 

On some level you know, from the sides of him he’s shown to you, that Namjoon isn’t like the guards you’ve seen. 

Namjoon rubs his eyes. He looks tired. 

‘My father was a commander in the first generation of guards,’ he tells you. There’s a note of bitterness in his voice. ‘That didn’t save me from being thoughtwiped.’ 

You stare at him in shock. 

‘I have all the right decorations,’ Namjoon continues, gesturing to his shoulders. 

He meets your gaze. ‘I can’t excuse the things I’ve done in the past to earn them. I was young, eager to please my father, eager to keep my mother safe, and there’s nothing safer than being a guard.’

There’s bitterness in his voice now.

‘I had my limit though, as warped as I was, and I protested against an order I was commanded to carry out.’ He pauses. ‘I couldn’t do it.’

‘Your past is a fog once you’ve been thoughtwiped, but it comes back slowly, in flashes. Like a puzzle that’s incomplete.’

You’re so caught up in Namjoon’s story you’ve forgotten about the pain in your wrist.

‘This isn’t about me but I told you this because I want you to trust me,’ Namjoon says. He touches your arm, gentle. ‘There’s no threat to you, from me.’

You believe him.

You’re about to say so when there’s a knock at your door.

Namjoon gets up and returns with a man with kind eyes who introduces himself as Jimin.

He tends to your wrist with a gentleness that almost brings you to tears, binding it and placing it in a brace that eases the pain a little.

‘It’s probably broken,’ Jimin tells you, ‘but this is the best I can do until you can get to the clinic.’

You thank him gratefully. 

‘Namjoon says you have a son. If you bring him to my clinic I’ll do a health check for free,’ Jimin offers.

You can’t thank him enough for his kindness.

After he leaves, Namjoon says, ‘Do you have a spare room? Or I can sleep on the couch.’

You stare at him, overwhelmed. ‘I don’t have a spare room —-‘

‘The couch it is,’ Namjoon says. 

‘You don’t have to —‘

‘You did it for me when I was injured,’ Namjoon points out. He dimples at you. ‘Don’t let me miss my chance to play nursemaid….’

You can’t imagine anyone who looks less like a nursemaid than your tall, broad, handsome neighbour.

‘You can take my bed,’ you offer.

There’s a beat of silence, and you realise how it must have sounded to him.

Oh no.

You splutter in your haste to explain. ‘Oh my god, I meant you can take my bed, for you, alone. I can take the couch.’

Namjoon looks like he’s holding back a smile.

‘I’ll take the couch,’ he says, very gently. ‘Now you should go to bed, you look very tired.’

You take yourself off to bed before your mouth betrays you again.

***

You wake to familiar scraping outside. You get up, hissing at the dull flare of pain in your injured wrist, and head for your bedroom window.

It’s Namjoon, clearing your garden path. He pauses to wipe a hand over his forehead, breath coming out in white puffs.

You pull on a robe and head down to the kitchen, open the back door.

‘Hey,’ you call.

He turns immediately, face creasing in concern. ‘How’s your wrist?’

‘Still broken,’ you say cheerfully.

A dimple flashes in his cheek.

‘Go sit down, I’ll finish this and make us breakfast.’

Despite Namjoon’s instructions, you start on breakfast anyway, you’re used to looking after you and Jiwon.

‘I’ll walk Jiwon to school so you can go straight to the clinic,’ Namjoon says.

You look at Jiwon.

Jiwon’s bright smile is all the answer you need.

***

You wake in the dead of night, heart thumping, blood rushing in your ears.

You’re up and out of bed before you’re fully awake, hand on Jiwon’s door, when you hear it again.

The same noise that woke you up.

The creak of your front gate.

You hear footsteps to your front door, then the knocking starts.

You wake Jiwon, wrap him in his coat, wishing you’d remembered your own.

‘Open the door, by the order of the guard,’ shouts a male voice, making you stumble in fear, making your adrenaline surge.

You glimpse the grandfather clock on your landing as you hurry through to the kitchen with Jiwon.

It’s 2am.

You doubt this is a routine interrogation.

It feels more like a raid.

You grab Jiwon’s face, make him look at you.

‘If we get separated, run through the gate and into Namjoon’s greenhouse. Don’t wait for me.’

Your voice is calm, your eyes serious, and Jiwon, with the wisdom of a much older child, nods.

You pull his coat closed, and take a breath, gathering your wits about you before you pull open the back door.

There’s no one there. The guards are still at the front of the house.

You hold Jiwon’s hand, tight, and step into the night.

***

You make it into Namjoon’s greenhouse just as your kitchen lights come on.

Your heart pounds like drums in your chest, insistent, so loud you’re worried anyone within a half mile could hear it.

You tuck Jiwon into a corner between sacks of fertiliser, stacked up, and listen intently.

There’s shouting, the sounds of doors slamming.

You hope it’s snowing hard enough to cover the tracks you and Jiwon made.

There’s nothing you can do about it now.

You wait, Jiwon tucked as far back as you could put him, hands gripping the shovel you grabbed from the back of the door. 

Beams of light bounce over the glass wall, freezing you into position. You close your eyes.

The door creaks open, and you stop breathing.

Steps, then in your terror it takes you a while to recognise Namjoon’s face.

Your eyes meet.

Namjoon holds up a hand, the barest of movements, then he shouts, loud and clear, ‘They’re not in here.’

Your heart pumps, and you start to breathe again. 

***

It’s hours before Namjoon returns to the greenhouse, face drawn and tired.

He says, ‘We need to go.’

‘Where?’ you ask, when you’re really thinking, ‘We?’

‘I’ll tell you on the way.’

Namjoon scoops Jiwon into his arms like he weighs nothing, and you follow.

Your limbs are stiff from the cold and the tension of waiting to be caught, but you make them bend to your will, keeping up with Namjoon’s longer strides.

‘I’ve got a car, a mile from here, can you walk?’ Namjoon asks, terse.

You notice the backpack he has slung onto his shoulders. 

‘I can carry something,’ you say, ‘Give me the pack.’

Namjoon’s tense expression softens, just enough to be perceived, as he glances at you.

‘Keep pace with me,’ he says.

It takes you a quarter of an hour to reach the car, parked alongside a warehouse. 

Namjoon places Jiwon in the backseat, tucks a blanket over him, unlocks the trunk to place the backpack inside.

You climb into the front passenger seat, watch as he starts the engine. His hand curls around the gear shaft, and you put your hand over his. 

‘Are you sure you want to do this?’ you ask.

There’s no going back from this. It’s one thing to not report you to the Guard, it’s completely another to help you get away.

Namjoon looks at your hand on his for a moment.

‘I haven’t felt this strongly about anything in a while,’ he says.

He looks up at you. ‘This is the only right thing I’ve done in a long time.’

He puts his other hand on top of yours briefly, then pulls away to start the engine.

He drives.

***

Dawn’s breaking by the time you reach your destination, a cabin deep in the mountains that you access via a narrow road buffeted with snow drifts.

Namjoon cuts the engine, sits back, rubbing the back of his neck. He looks tired.

‘Are you ok?’ you ask, tentative. 

‘Better now,’ he says, some of the tension leaving his expression. ‘Better now that we’re here.’

Jiwon’s stirring now that you’ve stopped, looking at you and Namjoon with a quiet resignation.

You hate that he’s grown to accept his world constantly being turned upside down as his due.

Namjoon turns back to look at him, a dimple popping in his cheek as he smiles.

‘Hey, are you hungry, Jiwon? I have some cereal in the cabin.’

Your heart teeters at Namjoon’s easy kindness towards your son, about to fall.

You’re about to fall for this man who you owe so much to, fool that you are.

You put your hand on Namjoon’s arm, eyes alight with gratitude. ‘Thank you,’ you tell him.

Namjoon glances at you, hesitates. 

‘You don’t have to thank me,’ he tells you. ‘I — I wanted to help.’

You think about his words as you help Jiwon out of the car and you head for the cabin together.

***

Jiwon’s asleep, you make sure he’s tucked in warm before you go into the main part of the cabin. 

Namjoon’s standing by the window, his large frame taking up almost all of it, face tilted up, like he’s looking at the sky. 

He turns when he sees you. 

‘I’m sorry,’ he says. ‘I’ll get the generator working tomorrow.’ 

There’s a fire in the hearth, not quite enough to light up the whole cabin but it’s warm enough. 

‘Don’t apologise,’ you tell him. 

You can’t see all of his face in the shadows, so you step forward. 

‘Jiwon and I wouldn’t be safe, here, if it weren’t for you.’ 

‘It was a woman and her son,’ he says, a change of subject so abrupt he’s lost you for a second before he continues. 

‘They wanted me to thoughtwipe her because of something her son did. Something stupid, meaningless.’ 

He turns to look out the window again. ‘I refused.’ 

‘That’s when they thoughtwiped you,’ you say. It’s not a question. 

He laughs, short, harsh. ‘And then they thoughtwiped her anyway. Last I heard she and her son were separated, sent to different sectors.’ 

You step forward again, wanting to see his face. 

‘You’re a good man, Namjoon,’ you tell him. ‘You can’t be responsible for everything.’ 

‘I should have done more,’ he says, flat. 

‘You’ve done a lot for us,’ you point out. 

You still can’t see his face, but you can see the sadness in the line of his shoulders, poignant and beautiful. 

You take another step forward, cup his cheek. His skin’s warm, and there’s the faintest pressure against your palm as he leans into your touch. 

You shiver a little, more from the feel of him than from the cold, but he’s quick to react, slipping the fleece off his broad shoulders and placing it over yours. 

For a moment his arms are around you, and you’re within a breath of turning away, would have turned away if you hadn’t felt the shift in his weight.

He’s leaning on you.

You curl your hand around his neck, and he leans down with the faintest pressure from your fingertips.

A thrill races through you as his lips brush yours, blooming into a pulse, heady and throbbing as you tilt your head to kiss him again.

He’s slow, so gentle it takes you a while to realise that his kisses are robbing you of your breath.

The tip of his tongue flicks at the seam of your lips, a question you answer by parting them.

Letting him in.

His hand travels down your side to land on your hip, tentative.

Another question.

This time you slide your arms around his waist, under his top. The warm skin of his back is smooth under your hands.

He grunts softly as you pull him closer, comes willingly. 

He kisses you again, firmer this time, and you melt into him. 

Gradually, in stages, closer and closer until you’re so close you don’t know where he ends and you begin. 

He cups the back of your head, pulls away just enough to say, ‘The couch.’ 

You follow him to the couch, and he tilts his head for another kiss. 

You put a hand flat on his chest to steady yourself, and he puts his own hand over yours, covering it completely, anchoring you to him. 

‘I haven’t done this in a while,’ you tell him. 

‘Me either,’ he says. 

His dimple flashes. ‘We can remind each other.’ 

Namjoon’s a patient man, you knew this about him already. 

You hadn’t expected him to be quite this patient though, not pushing you even though you can feel how hard he is under you.

‘Do you want to keep going?’ you ask.

‘So badly,’ he tells you, huffing out a breath, tilting his head back. His throat bobs as he swallows, hard.

You lick a stripe along his neck, and he shivers, gripping your shoulder. 

‘Do it again,’ he says, voice dropped low. ‘Can I touch you?’

‘Please,’ you say, and to your delight, his hands drop to the front lapels of your (his) shirt.

‘You look good in my clothes,’ he murmurs. He kisses down your chest, slow, open-mouthed, and by the time he gets to your breasts you’re vibrating with need.

He takes the tip of your breast into his mouth, sucking delicately at first, then more strongly when you moan his name.

Every pull of his mouth makes you pulse and tighten, and you don’t realise you’re grinding against him until his big hand grips your hip.

‘Stop, or I’ll come,’ he warns, voice thick, gravelly now.

‘Take your clothes off,’ you say.

He undoes the fly of his jeans, and the damp patch you see where his cock’s tenting his boxer briefs makes your mouth water.

He stops you with your hands on your own sweatpants, says, ‘Let me.’

Before you realise quite what he’s doing, he’s slid onto his knees on the floor, has tugged your sweatpants down to reveal your thighs, the hot stickiness between your legs.

He hooks a finger in the waistband of your panties. Poises himself, open mouthed over your core.

Looks to you once, eyes hooded, and whatever he sees in your face makes him bend down and put his mouth to you.

You cry out, muffled behind your own hand, and he stops instantly. 

‘Is this ok?’ he asks.

‘Yes, yes, please,’ you tell him.

He watches you as he slides his tongue over your slit, eyes hooded and hot.

He’s good with his tongue, you realise dimly in the back of your mind as he laps at you. He swallows audibly, and your hips dance under his mouth.

‘Joon,’ you moan, and he hums, deep voice vibrating against your skin.

‘Joon,’ you moan again. His hand splays on the curve of your hip, fingers tightening on your flesh.

This time, he moans in response, and you cry out, throaty and hoarse, as he sucks at your clit with renewed fervour, pushing you closer and closer to the edge.

‘Joon!’

He pushes a finger into you, and you come with a gush of wet, walls tightening around him, your entire body tensing for a glorious instant before giving way to waves of pleasure.

Namjoon groans, deep in his chest, and you reach out and grip his hips, guiding him between your legs.

‘Wait,’ he says, touching your face, gentle though you can feel him hard as steel at your entrance, the blunt fullness of his cockhead nudging, seeking. ‘Are you sure you want this?’

‘Yes,’ you say, ‘yes.’

Namjoon groans again, pressing into you, filling you so well your body arches like a bow against his.

‘Feel so good,’ he utters, jaw tight, voice raspy.

He moves strongly within you, taking control with a confidence that thrills you to your toes.

He says your name as he moves, guttural and wanting, the slide of him into you making sparks bloom behind your eyelids.

He grasps your hand, fingers knitting with yours, as you writhe and moan underneath him. 

‘Sound so pretty,’ Namjoon groans. ‘I’m sorry, I can’t —‘

You grip his shoulder. ‘I want you to come, Joon,’ you breathe, mouth by his ear.

He groans again then, circles his hips, and then thrusts deep, spilling his warmth inside you. 

He’s still for a moment, breathing hard against your ear. 

You turn your head to kiss him. 

You’re still holding his hand, and it’s a while before either of you let go. 

***

You pour out a mug of coffee from the pot Namjoon’s brewed, go out to where you can hear Namjoon chopping wood outside. 

He’s concentrating, splitting chunks of wood with a careful precision. 

He looks up as you approach, and his smile warms you. 

‘Hey,’ he says. 

You’d ended up sleeping tangled up with Namjoon. Some time during the night you’d woken to find him pushing your hair back from your face. 

You’d pulled him down on top of you, taken him in again, slow, languid, bodies moving together until you’d gasped and come, muffled against his chest. 

‘Hey,’ you reply. 

‘Jiwon still asleep?’ he asks. 

‘He’s exhausted,’ you say. 

‘Glad we didn’t wake him,’ Namjoon says. 

‘He’s a pretty good sleeper.’ 

Namjoon glances at you, and you flush. 

‘I didn’t mean —’ 

He laughs at how flustered you are. 

‘Good to know he sleeps well,’ Namjoon says. There’s a spark in his eyes now, dimples flashing in his cheeks. 

For all his size and height and seriousness, your handsome neighbour looks like a little boy trying to get a rise out of you when he’s like this. 

He watches, amusement in his face, as you sip the coffee to try to hide your discomfiture. 

When you look back at him, he’s gathering up an armful of wood. 

‘Come on,’ he says. ‘When Jiwon wakes up I need to talk to both of you.’ 

***

The sun’s high in the gloomy sky by the time Jiwon wakes, lured by the smells of breakfast and the warmth of the fire in the fireplace. 

After breakfast, Namjoon clears the table, and then sits you all down. 

‘We can’t stay here for long,’ he says, seriously. ‘The guards don’t know about this place, but it’s not safe, and they’ll still be looking for you.’ 

‘There’s a place close to the border where there’s a new community, away from the guarded sectors.’

You’re looking at Namjoon, carefully, and he’s looking right back at you.

‘We could go there. It’ll be hard, probably, at the beginning.’

You turn to Jiwon.

Hard? 

Harder than the life you have now? 

If there’s one thing you know, it’s that you need to find a better future, for Jiwon. 

Stability. 

You ask the question you asked in your head when you left home with Namjoon.

‘We?’

‘Yes,’ Namjoon says. ‘I’d like to go with you. If that’s ok.’

You’re looking at Jiwon again. 

The hopeful expression on his face makes the decision for you.

***

Ten years later

You’re waiting at the train station for Jiwon.

There’s a chill in the air still, it’s cold for spring but warmer than it has been in recent years.

A lot’s changed in the last ten years.

You, Namjoon and Jiwon had moved to the new community at just the right time.

It had been hard at first, but nothing compared to the constant fear of being detained by the guards.

The world’s been rebuilding itself after the War.

With your experience as a communal gardener, you’d been able to set up your own hydroponic greenhouse, and demand built up for your produce, to the point where you’ve been able to hire your own crew of gardeners and expand.

Jiwon had thrived in the new community, and when universities re-opened, he’d been accepted as part of the first few cohorts of students. 

His university was a few hours away, but the redevelopment of public transport meant there was a regular train linking his campus and your home.

The home you built with Namjoon.

In recent years, you’ve seen more and more of the light-hearted, humorous Namjoon and less of the troubled, serious Namjoon you first met.

Your love for him has only grown.

He approaches you now, a little older, but still as heartbreakingly handsome as the day you met him.

You think the best decision you ever made for you and Jiwon was to let him in. 

And now Jiwon’s on his way back for Christmas, and your heart is full.

Namjoon hands you the coffee he bought you from the cafe, and when you tilt your face up to his he leans down.

It’s a learned response from years of adjusting his height so you can reach to kiss him.

You press a kiss onto his cheek, over his dimple, and his arm slides around you to hold you tight to him.

The train pulls into the station, and Namjoon grasps your hand as it stops.

The carriage doors open, and your beautiful son steps out.

Physically, he looks like you, but the confidence in his bearing, the kindness in his face, the roguish twinkle in his eyes?

That’s you, and Namjoon.  

©hamsterclaw 2023

#namjoon x reader #namjoon smut #bts smut #namjoon fic #namjoon scenario #bangtan christmas 2023

[btsgotjams27]

don't push your luck | knj

you’re asked to present at an important meeting, but of course, your rival has to come along for the ride.

✨ title: don't push your luck | one-shot ✨ pairing: namjoon x f!reader ✨ genre/au: angst | ex college rivals, e2l, co-workers, one-bed trope ✨ rating: pg-18 | ✨ word count: 6.4k ✨ warnings: language, joon loves to call reader a lot of pet names, suggestive language, they're both kinda jerks to one another, they've also known each other for a long time (and slept together once), both are literary agents, mentions of surgery and cancer, banter, mentions of alcohol, they sleep in the same bed, there is a small hug, reader has misconceptions of joon, did i mention angst?, reader likes to blame namjoon for her shortcomings ✨ a/n: hi--so this was originally supposed to be out for joonie's birthday lmao and here it is a few weeks later. don't be afraid to let me know what you think. i love hearing from readers.

“Hold the door!”

A heaving sensation fills your chest and you feel out of breath. Everything you could imagine going wrong before a flight happened—your alarm wasn’t set, the Uber arrived late and hit every traffic light, security ‘needed’ to rifle through your suitcase for suspicious items, and the stupid expensive carry-on you purchased has given up on you.

“You made it just in time,” the attendant smiles and scans your plane ticket.

“Oh, thank god.”

You’re grateful to be in first class and now you can finally relax. It’s even better when you look at your row and the seat next to you is empty. There are a few glares from other passengers, but you don’t care–you’ve made it, and that’s all that matters.

When you settle into your seat, you check your phone for any last-minute work emails. The flight attendant announced the plane was ready to taxi for take-off. They ask everyone to be seated and buckled.

As you’re ready to plug your earbud in, you hear a muffled bang from behind. Peering over your shoulder, you realize you’re in the row before the bathrooms. Great, you think, that’ll be fun. You can hear clinking and clanking from the bathroom door along with someone shuffling out as the door slam shuts.

“Sir, please take your seat. We’re ready for take-off,” the flight attendant says.

The man clears his throat. “Oh, yes, of course. My seat’s right here.”

You look up to see none other than the person who has become the bane of your existence, Kim Namjoon. They say keep your friends close, but your enemies closer and he loved to be so close to you alright–everywhere you are to be exact.

Your jaw clenches as he plops down beside you. A few seconds later, a woman emerges from the bathroom. She brushes past the attendant, holding a card between her fingers as she peers down at Namjoon. “That was fun. Call me sometime,” she grins while walking away.

“You’re disgusting.” A shiver runs down your spine as one can assume what they were doing in there.

Namjoon gives you puppy eyes. “You’re so mean to me,” he pouts, folding his arms against his chest as he looks down. Not a split second later, he turns to you with a smirk. “I can rock your world whenever you want, angel.”

If only he could see the smoke fuming from your ears. He would never let that one time you slept with him go, would he? It was a moment of weakness you wish you could take back.

You scoff at his comment. “I can’t believe they just let anyone on airplanes now.”

His eyes rake over you. “I could say the same about you,” he retorts.

“What are you doing here, anyway?”

“What do you think I’m doing here, darling?”

Your body cringes at the stupid pet name. “Oh, I don’t know, to annoy the fuck out of me?” you say, flashing a wry smile.

“Ah, yes. That’s on my itinerary too, but you know I can’t resist an all-expenses-paid trip when it’s offered.”

This was your chance to make an impression on one of the biggest publishing houses. But with Kim Namjoon tagging along on this little trip? He will consume your thoughts because you can’t think of anything else when he’s around–plotting and scheming ways to take you down.

“Just stay out of my hair tomorrow.”

Namjoon sucks his teeth. “Wish I could, sweetheart. But, whatever Ms. Davis wants, she gets.”

A part of you wondered if Namjoon was sleeping with her to get to the top of the food chain, like the vulture he is. You shivered at the thought of the two in compromising positions. Namjoon’s college shenanigans were something that continued even into adulthood, you guessed. 

The blinking cursor in this blank Word document has been mocking you, thinking you’re a clown. But you blame Kim Namjoon. He’s pushed his seat back, legs crossed and reclined, hands behind his head as he’s laughing obnoxiously at the movie on his computer screen. Every stifled laugh and clap has you rolling your eyes.

You can’t concentrate when he’s around, and that’s how it’s always been since sophomore year of college. The countless conversations with yourself because you had to be ready with a witty remark in case he is a smart-ass about anything and everything.

It was a sweet relief when you walked across that stage to shake the president’s hand and retrieve the rolled-up paper. And when you lifted your tassel from one side to the other, you exhaled because you never had to cross paths with him again.

That is four years into your job, and who shows up sitting in your office? None other than Kim Namjoon–your old academic rival.

You’re 29. No man should have you gritting your teeth, ready to claw at him. Then again, he’s no ordinary man–more like the devil incarnate. He makes your skin crawl. His presence makes you want to jump out of a window–because he’s suffocating, and the air in your lungs doesn’t exist.

Okay–maybe you’re exaggerating. But right now, you want to spill your glass of red wine just so he’ll have a stained shirt.

Your mouth twists as you nudge the giggly goon head. He takes off the noise-canceling headphones. “What?”

“Can you zip it? I can’t concentrate,” you say, repositioning in your seat.

Namjoon snickers. “Aw baby, you weren’t able to concentrate before I even started the movie. What makes you think me turning it off will help now?”

With a click of your tongue, you’re unsure why you even bothered asking him, so you return to your blinking cursor and blank document.

“Ladies and gentlemen, we have begun our descent into New York City….” the announcement continues.

Guess it didn’t matter, anyway. You’ve spent two hours unproductive on a flight while Namjoon lollygags. At least you’ll have time to work on your presentation in peace when you get to your hotel.

You notice the way he walks and the way his bag is slung over his shoulder-practically about to drop, and you can’t forget the stupid overcoat that’s a tad too big for his frame. The crooked black tie contrasts against the crisp white button-down, and you want to help him fix it, only to make it snug enough to choke him a bit. It’s the way his cheeks lightly push against his thick black-rimmed glasses when he smiles, and his crescent eyes disappear, then immediately he widens them. It’s the way his hair falls perfectly above his glasses, and he daintily moves it away like the unflawed prince he is.

You hate you notice all these details about Kim Namjoon, but you’ve been around him long enough to have your guard up in case he pulls any funny business.

He doesn’t even care to check in at the front desk. Instead, he runs off to the bar when he sees a beautiful woman walking the same way.

You’re third in the check-in line, and you can’t help noticing the crowd hanging out in the lobby. Everyone’s dressed as some kind of anime character. It almost makes you feel underdressed in your plain white tee that’s tucked into your jeans.

A nudge from the side causes you to catch your footing. You clench your jaw before breathing out a sigh of frustration. He’s like a fly that won’t leave you alone.

“Want a sip? I think you could use a drink,” Namjoon says, tipping his glass toward you.

“I don’t drink on business trips.”

“Damn, baby. Lighten up. One drink won’t kill you,” he raises a brow and smirks. “Maybe it’ll even warm you up to me.”

If only your eyes could shoot laser beams every time he opened his smart mouth. Facing him, you took a step toward him, pretending to pick off lint from his coat. “It’s cute you think I’d warm up to you,” you pout.

Namjoon gives a lopsided grin, licking his lips. “Don’t worry, love. I’m sure we’ll become real cozy.”

When it’s your turn at the front desk, the receptionist flashes a warm smile, asking for your information. “Is this man with you as well?”

“No,” you say.

“Yes,” Namjoon chimes in.

You roll your eyes, glaring at the man who is the bane of your existence. “No. Nope,” you say, shaking your head. “He is not with me. He needs his own room.”

The receptionist doesn’t respond. She types and clicks around on the computer, her eyes darting around the screen. “I’m sorry ma’am, but it looks like we only have one room left,” she says, avoiding your gaze.

“What do you mean there’s only one room left?” you articulate, gritting your teeth.

The receptionist clicks around her screen again. “Again, I’m so sorry, ma’am. But we’re overbooked because of the anime convention in town. We can book this room for the two of you or give you a free hotel stay for another time to compensate for the inconvenience.”

Free hotel stay for another time? It wasn’t an option at the moment. You needed this hotel room to prepare for your presentation tomorrow.

Someone cosplaying as Sailor Moon walks past you and Namjoon. His elbows are propped on the counter as he faces toward the lobby. He turns to you. “Guess we’ll just have to share,” he raises a brow and licks his lips.

“You cannot think I’ll sleep in the same bed as him. I’d rather burn in hell instead.”

Namjoon turns to the receptionist. “She’s joking. She doesn’t want to sleep in the same bed because she knows she can’t control herself around me,” he grins, holding his hand out for the key card. “We’ll take what you have, love.”

You grumble, muttering curses under your breath as you grab your things, heading toward the elevator. First, he shows up unannounced, and now you have to share a room with him. Let alone a bed? What’s next? He’ll take over your presentation, you bet.

Namjoon whistles a cheerful tune while strolling down the hallway. How is he like a ray of sunshine right now? But to you, he is like a lingering cloud ready to rain on your parade.

When he reaches the door, he turns to you, still whistling, tapping the keycard against the sensor. The door almost slams in your face. You’re struggling to keep the heavy door open while dragging in your luggage.

“Really?” You huff with irritation in your voice.

Your eyes follow him as he makes himself comfortable on the bed. He’s lying down, his legs are dangling off as his feet touch the floor. And you hope the phone screen illuminating his honey skin drops on his face. You’re vile, you know. But Namjoon’s like an itch you can’t seem to reach.

Setting down your things, you walk over to him, slotting yourself between his legs, arms folded against your chest. “What are you doing in my bed?”

He chuckles, placing the phone beside him. He props himself up on his elbows, eyes raking over you. “Waiting for you to hop on, baby,” he sneers, patting his thigh.

How are you supposed to get any work done if he’s around invading the very air you breathe?

“In your dreams, Joon. You’re sleeping on the couch.”

“Oh, baby girl. You don’t even wanna know what you do in my dreams.”

His dreams, huh? You’ve wondered how many times you’ve shown up. “Let me guess, am I strangling you?”

Namjoon sits up, pushing himself off the bed to stand. It forces you to take a step back. There’s a moment of silence before he speaks, “Actually, you’re the one who likes it, remember? Not me, princess.”

You’re inches away from him and you hope he doesn’t see you visibly gulp. It’s like everything is stripped away when Namjoon’s around. As much as you try to hide it, you hope he can’t see through your bullshit.

Clicking your tongue, you try to compose yourself, tilting your head as you gaze into those dragon eyes. “Keep dreaming, Joonie because that’s the closest you’ll ever come to fucking me.”

“Again—” he corrects you. His gaze turns dark as he scans you from head to toe. He grasps your chin between his thumb and forefinger. “Come on, love. Don’t you want another taste?”

You roll your eyes, pushing away his hand. “Another taste of Kim Namjoon?” you tut. “Please—I eat boys like you for breakfast.”

A stupid grin spreads across Namjoon’s face. His scent invades your space again, making you step back. “Well, I’ll be sure to serve you breakfast in bed tomorrow. I hear the sausage is great.”

You huff a breath, glaring at the tall, beefy man. “I swear to god, Kim Namjoon if you don’t stay on your side of the bed—there’s gonna be hell to pay!”

Namjoon puts his hands up in defeat. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll keep my package safe, but it's cute you think your mouth is big enough for me.” He raises a brow, gently nibbling on his bottom lip.

You scoff. “Don’t flatter yourself, Joon. Always talking a big game, but you gotta put your money where your mouth is love.” You almost retch as the last word rolls off your tongue.

The night you slept with Namjoon was a hazy one. You blame the wine that was coursing through your veins and the critique you received from your professor—it messed with your head and you wanted nothing more than to get your mind off it. Namjoon was in the right place at the right time—annoying you like always. Naturally, he wouldn’t shut up, so you shut him up. One thing led to another and before you knew it, you had slept with your rival.

Walking away, you grab your bag, breathing a sigh of relief once you’re out of the room. It’s a stupid game the two of you have played since college—he riles you up, and you retaliate, but you would try your best to not let him get to you. 

You spent the last few hours sitting in the hotel’s bar, with headphones on as you clicked and clacked away at your laptop, finally getting your thoughts onto this Word document. There’s no music playing. You wanted to drown out the noise of the crowd.

As you’re facing out toward the lobby, you look up, glimpsing the bane of your existence, Kim Namjoon. You watch as he makes his way out of the hotel lobby, and now is your chance to sneak back up to the room and have some quiet for once.

When Namjoon’s out of view, you gather your things, making your way back up. As the door closes, a breath expels from your lips and you can finally breathe again.

Sitting down at the small table, your stomach growls, a reminder that you had ignored for the past hour because this presentation was more important than nourishment. You’re more than halfway finished, and your reward would be a delicious meal.

It’s nearly 9 o’clock, and your meal is nowhere in sight. The outline is finished, talking points are ready to go, but your laptop is dead, and with your luck, you forgot to pack the charger.

You want nothing more than to disappear and crawl into a hole and never come out of it. You’re ready to jump ship without a lifejacket—it’s practically what you’re doing going into this presentation. If only you had more time to prep instead of being thrown into this so last minute. Maybe you shouldn’t have told your boss you’re always ready for whatever’s thrown your way.

The rumbling in your stomach continues, but you’d rather wallow in self-deprecating thoughts than fill your belly with a delicious meal.

Why can’t things go your way for once?

As you’re sitting on the couch beside the window, a sprinkle of rain falls, and it’s perfect, actually–matching your exact mood. You place your chin against the jade-green velvet-colored couch, breathing a sigh of frustration.

How are you meant to get others to care when you're apathetic about why you got into this profession in the first place? You remember discovering your first author and how they made you kick your feet and giggle all night. The feeling of watching someone grow from a small audience into a commercial success made you love your job, and when you and an author are on the same wavelength and both so passionate about a story? You were unmatched when the stars aligned.

But this trip was a different story. You had been working with this author, but Ms. Davis asked Namjoon to chime in, and once something is in Namjoon’s hands, it’s never yours again. It was like a repeat of your college years.

So when Ms. Davis asked you to fill in for Namjoon, you jumped at the chance because you had missed this story and this author, and you hoped Namjoon didn’t distort the beautiful story and world that she had built. You get why everyone fawns over Namjoon. Admitting it crushes your soul just a tad, but he’s smart, charming, suave, and not that bad to look at. You just wished he’d let you have a win now and again. You’re tired of being second best.

When you hear a beep from the door, you sigh, throwing your head back. You don’t acknowledge your roommate for the night and instead focus on the rain droplets hitting the window. Pulling your knees toward your chest, your arms rest on them along with your head as you stare outside. You’re not in the mood to deal with Namjoon right now.

A delectable aroma fills your nose when Namjoon’s presence occupies your space. He sets something next to your feet while on the couch. You look at the box and then at him.

“What’s this?”

“You need to eat.”

“I already ate,” you lie, and your stomach growled, loud enough you’re sure Namjoon heard it too. You make a face, clenching your stomach, hoping it doesn’t do it again.

“Just eat,” he says, bending down to grab the box for you.

“Is this your way of poisoning me, so you can do the presentation tomorrow?”

Namjoon scoffs. “No, actually. It’s me being a decent human being. I saw you at the bar, and I know how you are when you’re in work mode. You forget to eat.”

There’s a fire rising in your chest, and you want nothing more than to be left alone. “I didn’t think the devil had a heart,” you quip back. It’s easier when he isn’t, makes you feel less of an ass—and so much for not being in the mood to argue.

He tuts. “Why are you always like this? Even when we were in school together. You’ve always hated me.”

Maybe it’s how everything’s been handed to him on a silver platter–like how he doesn’t have to work his ass off just to get a sliver of recognition. Maybe it’s because he could be the good guy, but he chooses otherwise. Maybe it’s because somehow he always shows up wherever you are, ready to take things from you.

“I don’t have to explain myself to you.”

“Fine, starve. I don’t even know why I tried.”

You groaned. “Can you just go away? You’re so annoying.”

“Me? Annoying? You’ve had a stick up your ass ever since you saw me on the plane, and I haven’t done shit to you. I’m here out of courtesy for our boss. What am I supposed to do? Say no?”

“Yeah! You should’ve.”

Namjoon shakes his head. “God–there’s no winning with you, is there?”

You ignore his comment, shifting in your seat, eyes focused on the rain again.

His jaw clenched as he backed off. “I was trying to be nice–break the ice, but it’s useless when I keep hitting a wall with you. See you later. I need a drink.”

Your eyes squeeze shut when the door slams. Sometimes you wonder if you’re too harsh or if you channeled your hatred toward something else, if it would benefit you more. But this was the circus of you and Namjoon–mortal rivals, nothing less, nothing more.

It’s well past midnight when you illuminate your phone for the third time. You’ve been tossing and turning, panicking about tomorrow’s presentation. Maybe you’d have to forgo using a slideshow and go off your outline. Graphic design isn’t your passion anyway because Canva was your best friend for presentation templates.

You had prepared yourself for having to share a bed with Namjoon, but you can’t help but notice that he hasn’t returned from wherever he went. You wonder if this was it–if it was the final straw for him, with you and your bitchy attitude.

As you’re on your phone, going over your outline, a beep from the door alerts you that Namjoon is back. You quickly stuff your phone underneath your pillow, turning in the opposite direction with your back facing him.

“Yeah, mom. Don’t worry. I’ll be back.” His voice softens when he sees the lights are out.

An indistinct voice is heard from the other end, but you close your eyes, pretending to be fast asleep.

“Yes, I have it on my calendar and already asked for the days off. I’ll be back before your surgery.”

You feel bad listening in on his conversation and even worse when you realize his mother is having surgery.

Namjoon hums. “I love you too, Mom. I’ll see you next week. Mm–bye.”

He sets his phone down and cards his hand through his dark hair, but it softly falls back in place. You can hear him ruffling through his bag before he walks off to what you guess is the bathroom to wash up.

You turn over when there’s a sudden ache in your side. Your eyes open to see the light shining from underneath the door, and he’s pacing around as he brushes his teeth.

When the water shuts off, he opens the door, turning off the light. The darkened curtains eliminate all light sources in the room, save for the bit peeking through from the moonlight shining on him, revealing his broad shoulders and honey-skin chest. Thank god it’s dark, otherwise if Namjoon saw you ogling him, he’d have a field day. But the gawking ends when he slips on a shirt.

You shift back to the side that’s still aching and Namjoon slips under the cover, keeping his distance. You’re facing away from him, and you can’t help but hear the frustration when he huffs a breath.

Of course, the stupid ache doesn’t dissipate, and you’re back on your side, facing Namjoon. You peek an eye open. His phone is dimly lit before he turns it off, setting it on his chest. Both of his hands are laced behind his head as he stares at the ceiling, and you’re fighting the urge to say something.

What you overheard was personal, something you weren’t meant to hear. After all these years of being academic rivals and co-workers, you knew little about his life except that he was a trust fund baby and had a younger sister.

“Namjoon?” You quietly croak out.

He quickly gazes in your direction. “Sorry—did I wake you? I didn’t mean to.”

“No, I couldn’t sleep, and then I heard you come in.”

A muttered apology escapes his lips along with ‘Night,’ as he turns on his side, facing away from you.

His demeanor is different, almost as if he’s let down his guard. You’ve never seen him distraught before.

“Namjoon?”

He hums but doesn’t turn around to face you.

“Is everything okay with your mom?”

Namjoon clears his throat. “Yeah, she’s okay. At least, I hope so.”

You’re nibbling on your bottom lip. “I couldn’t help but overhear she’s having surgery?”

“Oh—yeah, we, um, recently found out she has breast cancer and has to have a mastectomy.”

“Joon,” you utter. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay? How are you feeling?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he stammers, shifting himself into a more comfortable position. “Everything happened so fast, and I feel like I haven’t had time to process my thoughts. I’m trying my best to stay strong, you know?”

You place your hand under your cheek as you’re staring at his backside. The two of you stay silent for a moment.

“I get that,” you say, lying on your back, bringing the duvet to cover you. “Um, my mom also went through breast cancer a few years ago, if it’s any consolation, I suppose breast cancer is one of the better ones to have? If that’s such a thing—I mean, there’s a lot of research that’s gone into it, and there’s so much support out there if she wants it. So, um, yeah, just keep your head up. Your mom will be okay.”

Namjoon mumbles, “Thanks. I appreciate it.”

He doesn’t turn to you, and you don’t blame him. You have been a bit of an ass to him, but you’re not made of stone—there’s a heart buried somewhere inside.

Flipping on your side, your backs are facing one another, and you hear a sniffle. Immediately, you turn back, hesitant about being in this position. In the time you’ve known Namjoon, he’s never cried in front of you. There are more sniffles, and you can hear him holding back whatever’s caught in his throat.

Your heart’s racing, your breath is slow and controlled. You shift closer to him, removing the pillow you had placed in the middle to separate the two of you.

“Joon?”

He wipes his nose and clears his throat. “Yeah?”

“Would it be okay if I hugged you?”

Namjoon hums in agreement, and you take it upon yourself to inch closer to him. Somehow he seems so much smaller when you’re this close. You snake your arm underneath him, wrapping it around his waist, pressing your body against his. It takes a moment for him to register what’s happening, and then his hand finds yours, entwining them together.

You’ve been where he has and any kind of surgery is scary, especially when it’s a loved one. Your mind can only wander to the worst-case scenarios.

Your bodies are in sync as you can feel his chest rise and fall. But his breath is ragged and shaky. You suppose he’s fighting off any tears threatening to fall.

“You can tell me to fuck off.”

He chuckles. “No, I like this. It feels nice.”

Your mind finally settled during the night, and you could fall asleep. Namjoon’s snores were your alarm clock this morning. The weight of his arm draped over your waist. It was a familiar feeling—just like the day after you had slept with him. Only this time, all your clothes were on, and there was no accompanying headache.

Peering over your shoulder, he was still fast asleep, so this was your chance to sneak away. You were hoping to go over your presentation a few more times before your meeting today with the publisher. But as soon, as you decide to slip away, a buzzing from Namjoon’s side causes you to close your eyes and pretend like you weren’t trying to get up.

It buzzes a few times before Namjoon stirs awake, fumbling around to find his phone. “Hello?” he says in a groggy, raspy voice.

You shift away from him, snuggling underneath the duvet. The conversation is indistinct, and you can’t hear anything but Namjoon’s responses.

“Wait—” Namjoon sits up, turning away from you, his feet planted on the ground. “You want me to do what?”

He’s frustrated by whatever he was told.

“No, I can’t do that to her.” He quickly peers in your direction, and he sees you fast asleep. The voice on the other line continues along with Namjoon’s frustration. He’s rubbing his temple and sighs. “Please don’t make me do this. She already hates me as is.”

You can’t help but wonder who’s on the other line and who the ‘she’ is.

Namjoon shakes his head, and his voice quiets down. “She’s been working so hard on this presentation. I can’t just take this from her.”

Your heart sinks when you realize he’s talking about you. There’s no one else doing a presentation, and Namjoon was working with this author before they were handed back to you.

“Okay, okay. I’ll let her know,” he said dejectedly. Namjoon doesn’t even say goodbye. He’s crouched over, elbows on his knees as his head hangs low.

The soft chimes of your alarm go off. You wait a few seconds before reaching for your phone to silence it. Sitting up, you glance over at Namjoon who’s looking right at you.

“Morning. I hope I didn’t wake you.”

“No, my alarm woke me up,” you say before flipping the duvet over. You stand, smoothing down your hair. “Big presentation today. I should get ready for the day.”

You’re ready to run to the bathroom, but Namjoon stops you. “Um, about that.”

Slowly, you turn to him. “What about it?”

Namjoon’s hands are entwined, and his thumbs fiddled out of nervousness. “Ms. Davis called and wants me to do the presentation.”

You suck in your lower lip, gently chewing on it. “But I worked on it like a madwoman last night. Why would Ms. Davis ask me to do it and then go back to asking you?”

A buzzing from your phone interrupts you. The screen flashes ‘Ms. Davis.’ You peer at Namjoon, then answer the phone. “Hello? Ms. Davis?”

“Good morning, ____. I hope you slept well.”

You hum in response.

“I know I asked you to go to New York, but now that Namjoon is there. I think it’ll be better if he does the presentation. He just has a way with words, and I think he’ll be able to land this deal, don’t you think?”

Namjoon avoids your gaze by scrolling on his phone. You remember Namjoon’s words from the day before, ‘What Ms. Davis wants, Ms. Davis gets.’

You take a moment before responding. “Why yes, Ms. Davis, I agree. Namjoon would be perfect for this presentation.”

She continues about supporting him in whatever way he needs today, and you’re seething like a teakettle that’s ready to burst. You agree with everything she says.

“Mmhm, yes. I’ll make sure he has everything he needs.”

You bid her a chipper farewell before hanging up. Your phone’s clenched in your hand, and your chest is heaving. Thoughts are running rampant—you’re ready to quit on the spot.

Licking your lips, you look at Namjoon. “Well, good luck with your presentation today. Don’t ruin it for our author and Ms. Davis.”

Namjoon shakes his head. “No–you worked hard on it. You should do it.”

You scoff. “Don’t act like you don’t want to take this from me, Joon. It’s what you’re good at. You always get your way—just like when we were in school and now even at work. No matter how hard I work for everything, you’re there to reap the reward.”

His jaw clenches. He stands, walking to you. “You’re so fucking exhausting,” he spits out. “You think I’m some guy who’s out to get you or wants the worst for you–it’s like whatever preconceived notion you’ve fabricated has overlooked the fact that I’m a pretty decent guy if you could get past whatever thing that I’ve done to tick you off.” He sighs. “I’m telling you to do the presentation, but here you are blaming me.”

The warmth from his body is scorching as he nears you–it matches the energy firing inside you. Here he is, allowing you to shoot your shot, but you’re stubborn and temperamental.

Your gaze pierces through him. “Do whatever you want, Joon. I quit.”

Quickly, you gather your things, stuffing them into your carry-on. You know how ridiculous it sounds, but Kim Namjoon tends to bring out your foolishness. You’ve had seven years of him right by your side, which was too many for you. Maybe it was time to find a private island with no form of communication to escape him.

Namjoon doesn’t stop you, he lets you leave. He knows how strong-willed you are and once you’ve decided, there’s no changing it.

You wash up in the hotel lobby’s restroom, rushing off to nowhere because well–you had quit and home was two hours away by flight and it wasn’t leaving until tonight.

Cars and buses screech to a halt along with the sounds of never-ending honking. Chattering from tourists and bicyclists whiz by your side. There’s never a dull moment so you can get your head on straight. 

A buzzing from your bag goes unnoticed because you’re too busy figuring out the next steps. You don’t know what you’re doing. Quitting, so suddenly? Was it out of spite? If you couldn’t even handle Namjoon, how would you handle the next prick that came along? 

You held your arm out, trying to hail a cab, but no one stopped. Well, it was probably the worst time to grab one, anyway. Checking your phone, you noticed a missed call and a voicemail, and it wasn’t from anyone you were expecting.

It was from Noa Skye, the author you were trying to get published.

“Hey ____. I know I’ve been working with Namjoon for the last several months, but when I heard that you’re doing the meeting with HarperCollins instead, I screamed! I know you’ll be able to pitch my book well because you love this story as much as I do. So, yeah, I just wanted to call and wish you good luck. You’re going to do great. Talk to you soon!”

Your heart sank to your stomach when you heard Noa’s voicemail. It was true–you loved her story, and you wanted the entire world to read it so they could laugh and cry along with you. Her book deserved to be on bookshelves and New York’s best-seller list.

Should you buck up the courage and walk in with your head held high? And for once, maybe Namjoon was right–that you were looking for someone to blame and he was conveniently the scapegoat.

Noa deserved better than this ongoing battle between you and Namjoon; maybe more you than him–but regardless, you needed to set aside your ego for the sake of your author.

Huffing out a deep breath, you pulled your hair back, ready to fight for this presentation.

Namjoon was typing furiously, looking through his previous notes on Noa’s novel. He wished he had spoken to you about what you had outlined to get a better grasp. You and Noa had been working on her novel for a couple of months before Namjoon came into the picture. Surely, he knew how to charm the pants off publishers, but sometimes he felt like you captured the heart of these stories better than he did.

You’re jabbing the number seven several times, encouraging the elevator doors to close. Looking at your phone, there’s half an hour before the presentation. You hoped it was enough time to sort things out with Namjoon and go over your outline.

Turning the corner, you find Namjoon sitting with a laptop. He looks up, almost relieved when he sees you, but of course, he doesn’t make it known.

“Thought you quit,” he says when you’re near.

You flash a thin smile, sitting beside him. “I never waste a moment where I can rescue you, because it looks like you need my help.” A glimpse of a nearly empty page proves your point.

In normal Namjoon fashion, he’s ready to bite back, but he holds his tongue. “You’re lucky you’re cute.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes. “You can say ‘thanks’ and I’ll call it even.” He mumbles something indistinct and you cup your hand up to your ear. “I’m sorry. I can’t hear you over the sound of your ego.”

His shoulders slump, and he cocks his head. “Thanks, ___. I owe you one.”

Wiggling in your chair, you’re smiling proudly because this is the first genuine show of gratitude from Kim Namjoon.

“Here’s what I have. Can you tell me what you and Noa have been working on?”

Even without visuals, you felt the presentation went well and did Noa justice with her novel. Namjoon was another surprise. He didn’t interrupt, waited until you finished before adding in his two cents.

Although the presentation and trip to New York were short and sweet, it was eye-opening for you because you had been toying with the idea of opening up a literary agency. The sound of being your own boss sounded lovely.

“We did good, huh?” Namjoon says as he stands beside you.

“We?” You quirk an eyebrow.

He tilts his head. “You. You did a good job.”

You stand proud outside of the hotel’s driveway as the two of you wait for an Uber. “I know. I always save the day.”

Namjoon chuckles. “Well, have a good flight back home.”

Whipping your head back to him, your brows stitched in confusion. “Are you not going back to Chicago?”

He shakes his head. “My mom’s surgery got moved up, so I’m flying straight to Seoul. I’ll be back in Chicago in two weeks.”

“Oh,” you mumble. “I hope everything goes well.”

“Thanks,” he flashes a small smile. A car pulls up to him. “Looks like my ride's here. I’ll see you.”

Namjoon grabs his carry-on, ready to leave, but you stop him. “Joon–” He turns back around. “I’m sorry about what happened this morning. You’re right. I haven’t treated you nicely and have blamed you for a lot of things over the years, and it’s no one’s fault, but my own. I hope things go well with your mom, and if you ever need anyone to talk to, you can call me.”

He lets out a soft chuckle. “Call you, hmm?”

“You know what I mean.”

“I don’t, actually.”

“Just–” you groan. “You know what? Never mind. I don’t even know why I tried.”

Namjoon lets go of his carry-on and walks back to you. “I’m messing with you.” He chuckles lowly, taking another step closer to you. He lifts your chin with his forefinger, his dragon eyes gazing into yours. “It’s our thing, isn’t it? You hate me, I hate you. We find some kind of common ground, then fall in love. Isn’t that in all the books we read?”

You lick your lips and nod, pointing to yourself. “Me? Fall in love with you? Don’t push your luck, Joon.”

--

read 'under the mistletoe' (a don't push your luck drabble)

#namjoon fanfic #namjoon fic #rm fic #rm fanfic #namjoon imagine #namjoon scenario #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts x you

[starbandit]

Skyline (K.N.J)

Requested- Namjoon ceo! Au with age gap with reader being a one night stand. Maybe a little toxic! Namjoon? Honestly as fic with namjoon ceo vibes

contains- ceo!namjoon, age gap, tipsy sex, oral (f!receiving), making out, semi-public sex, light degradation, dirty talk, slight hair pulling, unprotected sex, praise 18+ MDI!!!

word count - 2.4k/unedited

You couldn’t help but groan as you watched your boss leave his office. He had a stack of papers in his hand and you just knew they were about to be thrown onto your desk with some crazy demand. 

“Hello, sir.” You greeted with a fake smile on your face. “How are you?” 

You watched as he plopped the papers on your desk with a loud thud. “Well, I’ve been better, Y/N.” He stated with a sour look on his face. “I need these scanned in, organized, emailed, and filed all by….” He looked at the expensive watch decorating his wrist. “Five thirty p.m.” 

You looked at the time on your computer. It was already three, there was no way in hell you would finish all of that in two hours. You tried to hide the expression on your face. “Of course, I’ll do my best.” You nodded at him. 

“Great, I’d do it myself-” You knew that was a damn lie. “But I’m meeting up with some friends for drinks tonight so I need to leave early.” He flashed a smile at you. “Have a good night, Y/N.” 

“You too, Mr. Kim.” You let your expression drop as he turned around. You watched as he got onto the elevator and disappeared from sight before you let out a loud groan, letting your head hit your desk. “I’m never getting out of here.” 

“Sir, I got those reports done last night, and here is the coffee you wanted.” You set a quick pace behind Namjoon. He grabbed the coffee from your hand, trading it for yet another stack of papers. 

“Great, I need you to take notes in this morning's meetings.” He stated, rounding a corner. “I’m trying to land a deal with a company overseas, so make a good impression.” He stopped in front of the meeting room. “Sit quietly.” 

You nodded and followed behind him, waving as he introduced you to the room. You took your seat in the corner of the room and got ready to take your notes. 

You let your thoughts wander as you walked down the street, getting ready to collect the lunch that you had called in for the executives. You had accepted the job as a stepping stone into the company, hoping to put your degree to good use. But it had been well over a year since you graduated and began working for ‘Mr. Kim’ and you were still stuck running errands. Unfortunately, the pay was too good for you to even consider getting another job, and… maybe you had a small crush on your boss. 

You returned to the office with the bags of food and prepared the spread in an empty meeting room. The executives were expected to return any minute, so you wasted no time in setting it up. 

“Ah, Y/N, thank you so much for doing this.” You quickly turned as soon as you heard your boss speak up from behind you. 

“Absolutely no problem, Mr. Kim. I hope you all enjoy the food.” You painted on a kind smile and headed for the door, hoping to shove some food in your own mouth before Namjoon asked for some other ridiculous request. 

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. You were sent out a few more times to gather drinks and snacks, and said goodbye to the executives from your desk as Namjoon showed them the way out. You continued to type up your reports and tidy the office as Namjoon did some work in his office. 

“Y/N, can you meet me in my office?” Namjoons voice came from over the speakers in the meeting room. You rolled your eyes. Here comes the request. Pick up my dry cleaning,Y/N. Go pick up this random imported cheese from across town, Y/N. You silently trudged across the office before painting a fake smile on and knocking on the glass door. “Come in!” 

“You wanted to see me, sir?” You stepped in. 

“Y/N, yes, take a seat.” He motioned to the chair in front of his desk. You slid into the chair and waited. “I just wanted to express my gratitude for everything you do.”

Your heart fluttered at the praise. “Oh! Well, thank you. I uh… I always wanna try my best for you and the company.” You stared into his eyes. His expression softened slightly as he smiled. 

“I’m really happy to hear that.” He chuckled. “I would uh… like to treat you to a drink tonight, just as a thank you.” 

“Oh!” You nodded. “Okay, yeah, that… that sounds great!” You instantly regretted accepting the offer. He wasn’t a horrible person by any means, but were you really about to spend your evening with the person that made you want to rip your hair out? Shit, there was no backing out now. 

“Great!” He pushed out of his chair. “Go ahead and collect your things and we can head out.” He began picking up his items and packing them away in his bag. 

Oh this was happening now, like right now. You quickly stood to collect your stuff. One drink and then you could leave. That’s all you had to do. It would be easy enough. Right? 

“So, tell me about yourself.” Your boss set the glasses down on the table of the bar. “What happens in the life of Y/N outside of work?” 

You muttered a small thank you to him and took a sip. “Well, sir,” 

“Just call me Namjoon.” He interrupted. “We’re not in the office, this is casual.” 

“Namjoon,” You corrected. “I can almost promise my life isn’t that interesting. No big trips or anything, I work, eat, and sleep.” You were a little embarrassed to not have much to say about your life. 

Namjoon hummed and took a sip of his beer. He had taken off his tie and suit jacket, and loosened the top few buttons of his shirt. His hair was now gently tousled instead of gelled down, the black and gray locks falling onto his forehead. He looked… soft. Less like a CEO and more like a husband. You tried to shake off the weird feeling it was giving you. 

The two of you fell into a nice conversation. You learned about his life. How he had been married in college, how she fell pregnant, how the baby wasn’t his. He gave you the details of the divorce and how he built up his career. Thrown in between stories were compliments and comments about how your blushy cheeks looked cute in the dim bar lighting. 

You finished up your third drink, body feeling fuzzy and warm. You and Namjoon headed out of the bar, you holding onto his arm with drunken giggles coming out of your mouth. You can’t exactly remember what happened, or when, but you found yourself pressed against the wall of the bar in the alley, with Namjoon holding your face as the two of you feverishly made out. 

“God, I’ve been wanting this for so long,” He moaned against your lips. “Take everything in me to not take you at work in those tight skirts.” His hand met the flesh of your ass from under your skirt. He kneaded the skin, sucking marks into your neck as he felt your body. 

“You should have.” You teased back. Your hands trailed up his chest, toned muscle flexing under you hands, and grabbed the collar of his shirt, pulling him back in for another kiss. “I’d let you take me right in this alley, Mr. Kim.” 

“I’ll give you an even better offer.” He pulled you closer. “Why don’t we go fuck where all of Seoul can see us?” 

Your legs went weak. Was he suggesting what you thought he was? You quickly nodded without another word and let him grab you by the wrist. Namjoon dragged you down the street and back to the office building. 

Once in the elevator, you couldn’t keep your hands off each other. Namjoon had picked you up and pressed you against the wall, hands gripping and kneading your ass. You two messily made out, tongues twisting against each other, teeth clashing. Your hands slid from his shoulders to his biceps, squeezing the hard muscle under his shirt. 

Namjoon didn’t even allow you to walk to his office, instead opting to carry you while you sucked red and purple marks into the tan skin of his neck. He slid the remaining objects on his desk to the floor and sat you on top of the wood. 

You had never looked out his office window at night before. You could see almost all of Seoul, lights twinkled for as far as the eye could see. It was gorgeous. Namjoon had settled between your legs while you stared out of the window. 

“Shit,” You gasped as his breath hit your thighs. Soft kisses trailed up the skin, stopping at where your skirt had ridden up. Your skin prickled at the feeling. 

“I can stop.” He rested a warm hand on your thigh. His fingers traced shapes on the exposed skin. “We can stop, no hard feelings.” 

You took a deep breath. Fucking your boss probably wasn’t the smartest decision you had ever made. But… he was hot. Fuck it, you nodded your head. “Please, I want you.” You buried your hands into his hair. “Keep going.” 

He smirked and pushed your skirt up the rest of the way, bunching the fabric up at your waist. You sat exposed for a moment while he stared. “What a slutty choice of panties for the office.” He commented before running a finger over the, now soaked, lace. He continued to slid his finger around over your slit, collecting juices and teasing. He pulled his finger away and popped it into his mouth, humming as he licked it clean. 

After that, he wasted no time. Namjoon slid your panties to the side and got to work, eating you out like you were his last meal. A shaky gasp left your lips as you threw your head back, a loud moan ripping its way from your stomach. 

His warm tongue danced around your folds, licking around all the sensitive areas until he finally landed on your clit. He switched between fast motions and sucking, getting you close enough to teeter on the edge of an orgasm. You couldn’t believe how fast you had gotten to the edge. 

“F-Fuck,” You whimpered as he slid his tongue into your entrance. “Fuck, Namjoon!” Your hands gripped his hair tight, pulling him in closer as you began to fall over the edge. “I-I’m, shit.” You couldn’t find the words to form a sentence. 

The heat in your belly exploded as your muscles tensed up. Your hips twitched up as your pussy clenched rapidly around his tongue. Wetness dripped from your pussy down your thighs and ass, coating the wood of the desk. 

Namjoon pulled away, lips bright pink and glistening. He looked up at you with hooded eyes and bit his lip. “Wanna keep going?” He stood up, now towering over you. 

You nodded enthusiastically and pulled him down for another kiss as he undid his slacks. The pants dropped to the floor with a thud, his belt buckle hitting the hardwood floor. By the time you pulled away, his underwear and pants were long gone, kicked somewhere in the shadows of his office. 

Your jaw nearly fell to the floor when you looked down. Namjoon was rock hard, tip red and leaking, but the size is what got you. It was nearly as long as your forearm, and you weren’t even sure if you could wrap a hand around him. “There is no way that will fit inside of me.” You mumbled. 

Namjoon chuckled. “Let's try.” He began to tease your entrance with his tip. He watched your face as he pushed in, stopping at the first sign of discomfort. He waited patiently for you to give him the sign to continue on. 

He was filling you up so good. So deep. Touching and massaging places you never knew even existed. You groaned as he slowly began to move, hitting the perfect angle. You pulled Namjoon down and wrapped your arms around him. Your fingertips dug into his clothed back. His muscles tensed under your hands as he thrusted, the desk creaking under every movement. 

“I knew you could take it, such a good girl.” Namjoon grunted. “Such a whore, letting me fuck you on my desk.” He pulled back to run a hand through your hair before tugging on it. “Who owns this pussy? Hm?” 

You let out a loud whine. “You, you do, sir.” 

A smirk painted Namjoons face. He mumbled out a quick praise and picked up the pace, absolutely assaulting your pussy. You weren’t sure if you would be able to walk right tomorrow. 

“Shit, you feel so good.” He groaned. You whimpered in response and gripped him harder, holding onto your boss as if he was the only thing keeping you grounded. Like if you let go of him the ocean waves would pick you up and drag you away. 

You could feel the waves building up in your lower tummy. The heat grew between your legs and through your belly. A slew of curse words left your mouth as the heat exploded, your fingertips dug into the firm muscle of Namjoons back.

Namjoon let out a groan as your pussy pulsed around his cock. The friction from that alone was enough to push him over the edge and he bottomed out before spilling inside of you. His cock throbbed deep inside of you as he came, hot seed coating your insides. 

You sat for a moment, both attempting to catch your breath before he pulled out. When he finally did, a hiss left your mouth from the sudden emptiness and the feeling of cum dripping out of your pussy and down your ass. The fluid dripped down and pooled on the desk. 

Namjoon had made quick work of getting redressed. By the time you had gathered yourself enough to pull on your underwear, he was fully clothed and standing by the door. He watched as you got yourself dressed and attempted to fix your hair. 

“Y/N, would you like to see the view from my penthouse now?”

#namjoon smut #rm smut #kim namjoon smut #bts smut #namjoon scenario #namjoon one shot #namjoon x reader #namjoon x yn #rm scenario #rm one shot #rm x reader #rm x yn #kim namjoon x reader #namjoon #kim namjoon #rm #namjoon fanfic #namjoon writing #my writing #bts fanfic #kim namjoon imagine #namjoon imagine #rm imagine

[oftenderweapons]

London Calling | KNJ

Pairing: Namjoon x Vixen

Wordcount: 3.1k

Genre: Fluff, smut, pwp, established relationship!AU, idol!Au, Married!AU

Rating: 18+; minors, please do not interact

Synopsis: Vixen has decided to distract herself from Namjoon's incumbent enlistment by focusing on her job. She has accepted adding more international works to her portfolio and is currently in London; too bad Namjoon can't help but post risqué pictures on his Instagram, and it really seems he's doing so to try and get her attention.

Warnings: Alcohol consumption, Swearing, Fear of infidelity, Nostalgia. Extremely mild DDLG dynamics, Babygirl!Vixen, Brat!Vixen, Phone sex, Masturbation, Dirty talking. Mentions of: Oral sex (both male and female receiving), Lingerie kink, Sex toys, Spanking. Oh, and one of Joon's friends simps for Vixen.

As usual, you can find my masterlist right here! I wouldn't mind if you took a few seconds to leave a comment or reblog my fic 🥰 Also, my requests are always open!!!

Enjoy 💜✨

“Been hearing someone’s on their worst behaviour.”

Namjoon’s chuckle on the opposite end of the line is everything you need to know. “What can I say, my last moral anchor is busy girlbossing around the world.” He licks his lips and sits down on the sofa, his friends messing around his kitchen, beers and liquors spread around your marble counter. “I’m missing my lucky star.”

“Your guardian angel.”

“My only angel,” he flirts. 

The game is back on between you and Namjoon. Ever since you decided to stop waiting around for his enlistment and have started accepting international projects on your portfolio, it’s like no matter where either of you are, it’s always time to flirt on the phone. 

Or mess around even more. 

He’s touched down in London for you about two weeks ago, showing up at your hotel room with an Agent Provocateur bag dangling from his pretty fingers and the kind of smile that always gets you shimmying out of your panties. 

“What are you up to, love? What time is it over there?”

“Uh-huh. I’m the one doing the asking here, mister.” 

He puts his glass back on the coffee table, and leans over with his elbows on his knees. “I’m just trying to feed my imagination, little fox. What’s a boy to do, with an empty bed and a sexy wife on the other side of the world?”

“I don’t know, maybe be more careful before talking talks he can’t walk?” you suggest. 

He lowers his voice before saying, “You’d be over my knee right now, you know?”

You decide to talk back, just to mess him up further. Your voice is like midnight fog when you tell him, “you’d have to catch me first.”

He steals a glance towards the kitchen. This feels an awful lot like when the two of you began hanging out — the secrecy, the craving, the distance, and the pining. Except this time you have rings on your hands and there’s no doubting loyalty, not on his nor your behalf. 

He toys with his own ring, tracing it with his thumb, twisting it a little to the left, then to the right, back and forth. 

“It seems you appreciated that quick leak…” 

You click your tongue. “One of these days you’re gonna end up naked in those pics and I’ll have to come home to do damage control.”

“Is that all it takes to have you back home? I miss my territorial little vixen.” He stares at your stash of books in the bookshelf, standing tall right next to his, but looking twice more put together. 

“I’ve noticed you’ve been acting sluttier lately.”

“At least I haven’t gone entirely shirtless yet.” He picks up the glass again and you hear him swallowing through the line. “Unlike some of my friends. You should consider yourself lucky.”

“Lucky, you say?” 

He hears the sound of a glass being put down. “Are you drinking, babygirl?”

You cock an eyebrow and stare at your glass of red wine. “I’m dined and wined. You know which bit is missing. But it seems you’re not that deserving.”

“What did you eat?” He doesn’t grant you the courtesy of winning this sensual verbal sparring. That tiny comment about being dined and wined was a trap, he can tell. Looking so casual and half-hearted can only mean you expected him to go there, and if he does, he’ll probably end up right where you wanted him. 

He can do better. 

“I had a steak. With a lovely truffle cream. I’ll have to make it for you next time you’re around.” Your reply comes off beat, and he smiles, happy that he caught you off guard. 

If this were a match of martial arts, you’d be dwindling a little, your balance compromised. “I’d love to. Miss your tiramisu. Your cheesecake. Your aglio e olio. Your sweet little ass working around the kitchen.”

You laugh, the sound as bright and heartstopping as ever. Blood rushes to his cheeks. He loves making you laugh. “You got the guys over, I assume? Four in the morning?”

���We just finished working. Like maybe an hour ago or so.” He can’t keep calm anymore. Everytime you call him when he’s home, his gaze keeps wandering to every piece of it that belongs to you. 

Sometimes it’s suffocating. Sometimes he sleeps back at the studio. Sometimes he stays over at other people’s places. 

Now it’s the portrait of your orchids that you had commissioned for him. It sits next to his bonsais, so he can think of your collection each time he’s watering his own. 

Sometimes he wonders who is whose subtext, because at times he thinks you’re the one who picked up habits from him, other times he thinks it’s him who accidentally got into certain hobbies through the years so he could be your exact shadow once the two of you finally met and aligned. 

“Also, you’re calling at four in the morning,” he observes. “Oh…” He rubs the back of his head, then plops back on the sofa, as if he were deflating slowly. “Right. I’m your booty call.” He chuckles. “Almost forgot.”

“I can find someone else in a more suitable time zone, if that sits well with you,” you reply, your tone just a tiny bit annoyed. His nonchalance irks you just a little. 

“That your sneaky link, man?” you hear someone holler on his side. 

“So now I’m miss sneaky link, huh? Not bad, mister booty call.” You click your tongue. “I’ll leave you to your friends. I thought you were alone, didn’t mean to disturb.” This could be your chance to win this match. 

“No, don’t go because they’re about to. Kind of right now,” he says, looking towards the kitchen and nodding towards the door. “Sorry guys. Vixen’s rule.”

“He don’t deserve you, honey,” one of his friends calls. “Just one chance, miss. Kindly.”

“We’re literally married,” he tells the guy, then to you, “Bum says hi.”

“Oh, hi sweetie. What are your thoughts on the London timezone?” you ask, coquettishly.

“Careful, fox.” Namjoon’s voice is stern when it comes on. It makes you sit taller on your seat, redirecting the pressure in between your thighs. “And you’d better not reply, Bum.”

The guy stares at Namjoon as he says. “For you, anything, my queen. Though, from personal experience, it’s excellent for your late nights and our early mornings. If you know you know,” Bum suggests. 

Namjoon slaps the guy’s back with the most sarcastic smile on his face. “Time to go, dude.” 

“Starcrossed lovers, that’s our fate, my queen.”

You laugh loudly and Namjoon is a little annoyed. “All the great loves are those that never happened, Bum.”

“Guys, I’m literally right here!?” Namjoon says, embarrassed and just a tad annoyed. “You, get out of my house. And stop trying to seduce my wife.”

“Bum, can you keep an eye on him? Kinda worried I might not be the only sneaky link of his.” You joke about it, but deep down, there’s always a sliver of worry in it. You wouldn’t be surprised if some of his friends were encouraging him to be unloyal to you just because you decided to push forward with your career. 

“He’s too busy panting for you to even begin thinking about someone else.” Bum’s putting on his shoes by the door, hushered by Namjoon. His three other friends are similarly getting dressed, laughing at the exchange. 

“Literally, Vixen—”

Namjoon looks like he’s baring his teeth at Bum using his nickname for you. 

“He’s whipped. We keep him in check, but it’s like guarding a leashed little puppy.”

You giggle, sweet and endeared. “Good. That’s the way I like him.” You lick your lips. “Make sure he doesn’t bare his ass on Instagram.”

“So you’re falling for his little thirst traps?” Bum’s laugh booms in the room and Namjoon wacks him on the head, worried about the neighbours. Also, he doesn’t like admitting that when he posts, he’s thinking about the way you would react when seeing him. 

“You know how I am, Bum. I’m always falling for him,” you confess, cheesy and utterly honest at the same time.

Namjoon smiles like the cat who got the cream. “That’s sweet, babygirl. The guys are leaving now. Bye guys,” he says quickly, finally kicking them out. 

You try to say bye in return, but you hear the door close and Namjoon is immediately all over you. “Always falling for me, huh?” He heads back towards the sofa. “That’s new.”

“That’s actually so, so old.” You roll your eyes but smile through it anyways. 

“You’re my only sneaky link, Vixen. Still got your claw marks all over my back, by the way. Lovely touch.”

“Gotta mark my territory,” you state matter-of-factly.

“Wanna switch this over to a video call?” he suggests, already undoing the first button of his shirt.

“Just so I can be reminded I’m not over there fucking you right?” You snort bitterly. “No way.”

“We could make this our own personal porno,” he suggests, grateful that his trousers are baggy enough to give him extra space around the crotch. “Just a little visual aid.”

“You’re telling me you don’t remember how I rode you last time?” You undo the little bow at the waistband of your pyjama pants, your fingertips tiptoeing around the elastic of your panties. 

“Let’s say I wouldn’t mind having a bit more than a memory to hold on to.” As if telepathically connected, he’s also undoing the button and zip of his denim cargos. 

“Fair. You usually hold on to my hips while I fuck you.”

He hisses, head thrown back. “And you hold on to my throat when I’ve been an exceptionally good boy.” 

A shiver screeches down your torso, then spreads through your midriff and settles somewhere at the small of your back, as if recalling the phantom touch of his hand, of his thumbs imprinting themselves in the twin dimples at the base of your spine. He likes resting his fingers there when he’s taking you from behind. It’s like the little dips were designed for his digits to rest there. 

“You’re such a lucky little fucker,” you tease him and he one-ups you, 

“I fucking am, but last time I checked you usually sort of profit from it.” 

Your sultry laugh is his favourite form of payment — right now he’s richer than he’s ever been. 

“Are your hands free, love?”

You let him hang there for a couple long seconds, your breathing heavy. “They’d be freer if you were here,” you tell him. “Maybe not.”

“They’d be all over me, and you know it, little fox.” He purrs as his hand finds a good spot. He’s not yet actually touching himself, but he’s definitely teasing. “Got on a fucking plane for those hands.”

“You flew for twelve hours for these hands.”

“And for that ass,” he adds, quick-witted. 

Your laugh is more of a snort. “And that too.”

His zipper is undone, he dips his hand under the waistband of his briefs, shifting it downwards. “For that smart mouth of yours,” he whispers. “Just to kiss it for a bunch of hours.”

“It was very grateful,” you remind him, trying to bluff the fact that your middle finger is now circling your clitoris. 

“I remember that.” His heartbeat is starting to accelerate. “I had to stop it from being a little bit too grateful.” He remembers the silky feeling of your hair in between his fingers, the tension in your hand on his thigh as you tried to take more of him. “My birthday girl,” he hums. “And yet, I was the lucky bastard who got presents.” The sight of you in that powder pink corset, with the delicate ruffles, and the feather trims tracing the top of your breasts, palpitating with every single excited breath you took. 

It had been like seeing a map of your arousal, goosebumps rising on any inch of skin he had dared lay his eyes on. 

“You were so responsive,” he whispered. “You were so fucking wet.”

“You teased me for almost an hour,” you object.

“I’ll have to make it two hours next time then.” He’s throbbing in his own palm, circling his tip, hissing when he hits a too-sensitive spot. “Maybe with the tickler still.”

“It was delightful, I will admit that.” You’re leaning on your hand now, cupped between your thighs. “Wish your face was between my legs.”

“Wish you were sitting on it, baby.” He bites his lip, as if he could recall the feel, the taste of you on his mouth. “Can’t believe it’s been two weeks already.”

“I can’t wait to be home,” you moan.

He can tell you’re touching yourself, from your ragged breathing, and from the way your voice has become more vulnerable, and more impatient too. “I’ll make sure to clear my schedule when you do. We can do that ‘seven days a week’ type of shit.”

You moan and he laughs to himself. 

“Are you gonna come for me, my love?” he asks fondly, his voice like a dark caress. “Are you thinking about my mouth fucking you? About my tongue stroking you, feeling how wet and warm and sweet you are?”

“Joon, please,” you beg, a desperate little laugh.

“No need to beg, babygirl. You can have everything you want when you’re with me,” he continues, with his calm, direct voice. “You can take it, love. You can have me deep inside you, and you can suck on my fingers if you’re struggling to keep your voice down.” He’s quickened his own pace, trying to climb as fast as you do. “Or you can be loud, and tell the neighbours who’s making you feel this good.”

“When I get home I want you to mess me up for days. You’re gonna mark me, and make love to me and fuck me and feed me. You’re gonna cuddle me to sleep, then wake me up with your hand between my legs.”

You’re holding your breath as you speak, your high approaching like an incumbent, massive wave. 

“I promise, love.”

“Are you coming too?” you ask, and he hums simply. 

“I’m close.”

“I want you to fuck me while I sit on your lap.”

“On the sofa?”

“On the sofa, on the floor, in bed, I don’t care.” You gasp, then chuckle as you hit an indecently good angle with your fingers. “I want to hold you as we make love.”

“You will, baby.”

“I wanna whisper in your ear that you’re my one and only. That you’re the only one in the whole world who can get me this good.” 

He loves when you get emotional during sex. He loves when you start to ramble and you tell him all those things you usually keep to yourself. “I can’t wait either. I miss you in bed. I miss you at every meal, I miss going to our galleries. I miss every fucking thing.” He’s getting desperate. “And most of all, I miss those eyes on me.”

“I’m coming,” you gasp, out of the blue, the idea of sitting on his lap, naked, making love to him, your mouth clamped around the crook of his shoulder to keep quiet, his hands tracing your back, his eyes looking for yours, for confirmation, for loyalty, for reassurance, for companionship. 

“That’s my darling.” He can let go now, and he fucks his hand with intention, with neat powerful jerks. He helps himself with strong thrusts of his pelvis, and precise tugs of his hand too. He grunts when he hears your sweet whimpers on your side of the call, and finally he follows you into pleasure, with the image of your head thrown back, your plump lips agape, your hair tumbling wild behind you as you bounce on him. 

He can almost feel the aftertaste of your perspiration on the tip of his tongue. 

“Wow,” you say as soon as you manage to recollect yourself. 

He’s still sort of numb, his orgasm spilled on his stomach and happy trail. Just a glimpse down and he’s already envisioned the phantom of you studying his semen, lowering yourself to his navel and tracing it with your digit, only to bring it to your mouth to have a taste. He clicks his tongue in disappointment. 

“Damn, I wanna cuddle the fuck out of you and you’re too far away.” He reaches for a tissue to clean himself quickly. “I guess that’s why we don’t do this more often. I miss the aftercare.” He pulls himself back in his briefs, then blocks his phone between his shoulder and ear and stands to get rid of the tissue. “How are you feeling, love?”

“Hunting for chocolate.”

“Oh, baby…” He giggles, endeared. “Should I order something for you?”

“No… it’s okay.” You’re a little bit sad, but you try your best not to let it show.”

“Not even those glass beads you’d seen on our favourite website?”

You widen your eyes. “Let’s not make say things we don’t mean now...”

Namjoon laughs fondly. “Thought so.” He waits a little. “We can just talk, by the way. Or you can go grab a toy and we can keep going with this. We could discuss in great details what you intend to do to me once you’re back.”

“We could do that. Or we could video call and you could watch me hump this little thing you got me.”

He grins. “Then let me get comfy. We’ve got quite the night coming up.”

You smile. “We do.”

He hesitates. “We don’t have to, you know? If you don’t want to video call. I’m okay with just hearing you.”

You pause. Your love for him multiplies exponentially in your chest. “Sure we don’t have to. But I want to.”

Namjoon smiles. “Okay.”

“Get comfy, lucky boy,” you tease him.

“I’ll be right there.”

It’s almost six in the morning when you fall asleep. He’s propped the phone right beside him on the pillow and though he’s found himself dropping it a couple times, he’s refused to let go until he was sure you were asleep. 

Now he closes the video call and locks his phone, putting it back on the nightstand. He pulls your pillow close, hugging it to his chest, then throws a leg on top of it. He places another pillow in between his legs, where your thighs would normally tangle with his. 

He breathes in the vague scent of you left on the bed — not much since the sheets have been changed and he can only smell the laundry scent you normally use, of sandalwood and cedar, warm and spicy. 

Twenty-three days. 

He can handle it. 

He falls asleep with the memory of your body like ivy against his own. Even this far apart, he is and will always be covered in you.

#kim namjoon #namjoon scenario #namjoon smut #namjoon x reader #namjoon x yn #namjoon fanfiction #bts fanfiction #52 hertz #btswritersclub #bangtansorciere #houseofddaeng #namjoon x vixen #kim namjoon married au #namjoon imagine #namjoon idol au #bts blog

[axigailxo]

friendship & erotica | knj

pairing. reader x namjoon

w.c. 2.1k

genre. smut, best friends to lovers, soft dom!namjoon, implications of sub!reader, idol!namjoon, fem!reader, a little fluff if you squint

summary. Your best friend Namjoon gets turned on while reading an erotica in your shared hotel room and decides to accompany you in the bathroom as you prepare for a bath.

contains. h0rny/needy namjoon, confession of feelings, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, brief breast play, praise, slight pain, a little bit of teasing, creampie, possession kink?

—

You and Namjoon decided to vacation overseas for the remainder of his break, valuing every second of  each others company. You had spent the whole day out, browsing large malls and eating at fancy places, so you were beyond exhausted when you returned back to your hotel room.

“I’m gonna run a bath.” You tell Namjoon as he digs through his suitcase in search of a book.

He only nods, his full attention on choosing the right book.

You smile to yourself at his cute determination as well as his suitcase that’s spilling with at least over 10 novels, making your way to the large bathroom.

You peak the door halfway open because you know Namjoon likes to ramble and tell you about the pages as he reads, and plus Namjoon would never just barge in.

You turn the faucet of the tub on, the light noise of running water being almost therapeutic.

“Did you find one yet?” You ask loud enough for Namjoon to hear as you begin to undress.

He didn’t respond, and just as you were about to repeat your question louder he spoke.

“Yeah..” He said, sounding disinterested in talking as if whatever he was reading was worth his full attention.

You decide it’s best to let him relax too, quietly leaning against the rim of the tub as you wait for it to fill. But what you didn’t know, was that Namjoon was paying attention to you, just in a different kind of way.

He didn’t realize he even picked out an erotica until the absurd words on the open page were already displayed in front of his eyes as he laid on the small sofa, your naked figure in his peripheral vision.

Wide eyed, he gulped.

He didn’t know whether it was the filthy words and actions in the book or the way you were subtly fiddling with your breasts as you waited for the water to fill, but no matter what it was that didn’t stop the intense sudden blood flow to his crotch.

Angling the book down, his sight confirms his prominent erection beneath his sweatpants.

For a split second, he wondered if he should touch himself to you, but he was too much of a gentleman to do that. He decided it was best to close the book in hopes that would make his occurring thoughts vanish, but it didn’t.

Shooting you another glance, he noticed you now had a robe on while you stood in front of the mirror taking your makeup off. One last breath, he stood up. Making his way to the slightly opened door, he knocked gently.

You were confused for a moment, but you let him in nonetheless.

“What happened?” You calmly asked, looking at him through the mirror as you continued to wipe your makeup off.

Frozen in spot and staring back at you, he snaps back into reality when noticing the tub was done filling. After switching the nob off, he approached closer, his much taller figure stopping right behind you.

“I uh..” Just as he was thinking of an excuse to tell you, he noticed that your necklace was still on. “Here, let me help you,” he kindly said as he moved your hair to one side and fiddled with the clasp of your necklace.

“What are you doing?” You asked in a faint giggle as you observed his weird tension. He smiled back slightly.

“I’m helping you with your necklace, duh.”

You inevitably ignited in goosebumps at the feel of his touch on the back of your neck, and he noticed. His erection only grew, but he made sure to keep a reasonable gap between your bodies so that you wouldn’t know.

After completing his task, he leans slightly forward to place the necklace onto the counter, his very erect cock brushing against your lower back. You sharply inhale through your nose, to which he then looks at you through the mirror.

Submissively, you bat your eyes up to meet his through the reflection, slowly taking one step back and closing the gap between your bodies.

His hands instinctively make its way to your waist, traveling slowly to the tie on your robe. You examine his fingers as he slowly pulls one end, causing the material to cascade open.

His eyes immediately flick to your breasts, hungrily focusing on your erect nipples. Knocking the fabric off of your shoulders completely, he allows the material to puddle at his feet.

He keeps eye contact with you as his mouth travels to the exposed side of your neck, softly fluttering them shut as he opens his lips against you. You whimper as he suctions his lips on your delicate skin, your hands coming up to cup his own which are holding your waist.

Leaning your tilted head back onto his shoulder, he kisses further up your neck and you guide his hands to touch your breasts.

“Joon,” you whisper, lips brushing against his forehead.

As his hands begin to massage your breasts, fingers occasionally toying with your nipples, you bring one hand up to caress his cheek and guide his mouth to yours.

Lazily but passionately, you make out with him, whining into the kiss every once in a while. Blindly, you trail your hands down in between your bodies to curl your fingertips into the bottom hem of his shirt, eagerly pulling up as far as you can in your awkward position. Once the bunched up fabric revealed his chest, he peeled his hands from your body to quickly bring it over his head, dropping it to a random spot on the floor.

He doesn’t waste a second to press his chest back against your bare back and attach himself back onto your lips as you lean your head onto his shoulder once more with your face angled up to reach his. His hands magnetically attach to your breasts once again and as soon as one hand begins to travel down, you disconnect your lips to shallowly breathe against his neck as you look through the mirror to see the contact.

You feel a heat wave ignite in your body as you watch his veiny hand travel towards your aching core, your back slightly arching off of his chest.

“Please touch me Joonie,” you whisper your first plead, he nibbles your ear and teasingly giggles under his breath in response.

You let your free hand venture up his toned arm, feeling out every vein that leads to his prominent bicep. You’ve definitely had a tucked away crush on your attractive best friend for a while, but only now you’re fully allowing yourself to realize it.

His palm stops at your vulva, his index and middle fingers teasingly creeping down your clit and dipping into your source of wetness. You both moan.

“So wet..” he whispers right into your ear, his fingertips guiding up along you in mission for your clit.

As soon as the slippery pads of his fingers meet your bundle of nerves, you harshly grip onto his upper arm. He notices your legs jolt, so before he rubs you he uses his free arm to wrap around your stomach and securely hold you in place.

He circles your clit slowly, and the louder you get the faster he goes.

“Fuck, Namjoon,” you moan as you let go of his arm to grab onto the edge of the counter with both, slouching over his sturdy forearm.

With this new angle, his dick pressed right against your ass, causing him to groan as he slowly began to grind against you and you grind back to allow him even more friction. With the new friction, he himself couldn’t handle the temptation any longer and so the movement on your clit slowly came to an end as he stopped the speed of his fingers.

Heavy breathed, you straighten back up after he releases his hold on you. Immediately, you turn yourself around and reach up to meet his lips once again. Pressing your chest flat against his, one of his wandering hands land a harsh slap to your ass before kneading it to relieve the probably-red mark he left.

You hum into the kiss in pleasure, pressing yourself even harder against his bulge.

A playful yelp escapes your lips as his hands lift you up by the back of your thighs, placing you gently onto the counter. You open your legs around him and detach your lips to watch him as he takes himself out.

You couldn’t help the moan that escaped your lips as you saw his length for the first time, only confirming every fantasy you’ve ever visualized about him. He smirked at your moan of appraisal, stroking it a few times as you watched.

“I need it now Joonie,” you whined, the temptation turning into torture.

He guides his shaft to rest against your slit, his tip teasingly poking against your abused clit. Wrapping your legs around his lower back, you pull him in closer against you.

“You’re breathing so hard right now baby,” he flirtatiously notes as he continues to watch your chest rise up and down in anticipation. You blush for a split second before the aching temptation crashes over you again, causing you to only whine out a hum in response, grinding yourself against his shaft. 

Placing a soft but meaningful kiss to your forehead, he finally gives into your needs and lines his tip up to your core.

“So fucking wet jagi,” he notes again, breathing deeply as his dick easily slides into your slicked up hole.

Wrapping your arms around the back of his neck, you let out a series of struggled yet pleasured moans as he fit his large length inside of you.

“Can you take it all?” He asks upon hearing your winces.

“Mhm..” You hum before slowly starting to grind your hips, his dick now fully inside of you.

“Jagiya.. oh my god,” he speaks in a hurried breath as you grind harder onto him.

He pulls out halfway, cautiously slamming back in and when he sees how bad you like the roughness, he creates a rough pace. Pounding in and out of you, your nails dig into his shoulder blades as several profanities pour out of your mouth.

“Just like that baby, fuck.” You moan into his neck.

“Yeah? You’re taking me in so well baby. So good for me,” he speaks, his dominating words making your lower stomach knot up in a familiar feeling.

“Be good for me and cum jagi.. Can you cum for me?” You nod frantically at his words as your face remains buried into his neck. “Yeah?” He asks further.

Not letting you respond, his large hand slaps the same spot on your ass as he did previously, the sting causing you to moan. Inhaling through your teeth, you grind yourself hard as he smashes into your nearing pussy.

“You’re doing so good,” he praises you, one hand coming up to stroke your hair before tucking it behind your ear. “Eyes on me,” he gently demands, his tone very soft but incredibly authoritative.

You keep your head straight as you bat your eyes up to his, submissively looking up at him through your lashes.

“I want to see my pretty girl as I fuck her.” His words make you bite your lip, whining as you begin to feel the urge to cum.

“I need to cum now Joonie.. Can I?” The way you asked for permission to cum made his dick twitch inside of you, his climax nearing just as fast.

“You want to cum for me jagi? All over my dick?” He asks you out of breath, his pace never having slowed down. You nod frantically again, your jaw dropping in overwhelming pleasure.

“Yeah? Do it then, prove how good I make you feel. Let your pussy cum baby.”

His words make you still your hips completely, nails dug violently into his back. Just as you reach the frozen euphoria of your climax, you’re contracting walls send him over the edge and you feel his warm cum shoot inside of you.

His hands death grip the counter on either side of your hips as you both ride out your high, your cheek smooshed against his muscular shoulder as you attempt to regain your breath.

After a couple moments, you feel his body vibrate as his deep voice lets out a faint and shy laugh. Standing up straighter, he takes your hands into his.

“I hope that was okay.” He softly speaks, eyes glistening in haziness as well as admiration. You bite a big smile back as your heartbeat increases at the thought of your next words.

“You called me your girl..” You reiterate the words he spoke to you moments ago.

“I did..” He shyly confesses. 

“Well aren’t you at least gonna ask me to be your girlfriend first?” You playfully hit his chest as you instinctively move closer against him, smiling when you notice him blush, his flustered head dropping down.

“Will you?” He asks, tone sincere.

Kissing his lips, engaging in a deep and prolonged kiss, you pull back to look him in the eyes.

“I’d love that.”

~~~

released 6/xx/22 ; revised and edited 8/26/22

#namjoon smut #kim namjoon #namjoon #namjoon oneshot #namjoon scenario #rm smu #rm oneshot #rm scenario #rm bts #bts smut #bts #bangtan smut #bangtan #namjoon fic #kim namjoon smut #dom!namjoon #soft dom namjoon #namjoon x reader #rm smut #RM

[seoksgrl]

happier than ever, 4. : knj namjoon x reader friends to strangers to lovers

tws: alcoholism, depression, suicidal thoughts, attempted suicide

note: this chapter was a hard one to write, and a hard one to read, please heed the warnings!

m.list prev | next

You’ve been staring at the shop window for twenty minutes now, and you know the only reason you haven’t been shooed away with a broom is because you know the owner. Mrs Ahn’s shrewd eyes watch you from behind the aged glass, her knowing gaze watching you with equal parts pity and weariness. You’re still dressed in the clothes you went out in last night, and you haven’t been back home to change - you stink of stale booze and cigarettes, but people pass you as if you’re not there. 

The necklace is still in the window, and you come to stare at it every so often when you’re feeling particularly sorry for yourself, when you want to remind yourself of the waste of breath you have become. The necklace only fetched a few won, being fake and all, but the night you’d pawned it, the few notes it got you was enough to buy three bottles of whiskey. 

Today, you’ve decided to punish yourself a little longer than usual, staring at your mother’s necklace on the other side of the glass, letting the cubic zirconia glint at you like a wicked wink, mocking you for being the worst human being on planet earth. It almost hurts a little, and that's all you allow yourself before you turn away, walking down the street like a coward. 

“Y/N, dear,” Mrs Ahn calls, and you stop for a second, pausing in your step because this moment has strayed from the usual routine. When you turn, the old woman is watching you with those same eyes that remind you of the liquor you’d bought after seeing her that night, and you look away, down at the pavement, “Did you need something?”

Mrs Ahn has never been a cruel woman, nosey, yeah, but never cruel, and you know she is only asking with the hopes that you might suddenly morph back into the old version of yourself, the one that's easier for everyone to digest. 

“I know today is a hard day for you,” She says, her voice on the icy breeze carrying that same sorrowful lilt that drives you insane, “it’s the first since she passed, isn’t it?”

She knows it is, so you’re not sure why she’s asking, and you’re not going to answer either. The slur in your voice almost seems permanent now, but for some reason you don’t want her to hear it, so you nod and turn away, ignoring the several other attempts Mrs Ahn makes to call your name. 

It’s been two days since Namjoon came to your house, kicking out some guy whose face you don’t even remember, let alone his name. Any normal person would’ve thanked him, but you didn’t, instead you kicked him out and smashed up the living room, making it more of a mess than it already was. At least now you don't have to clean up your own messes anymore - not that you have been lately, anyway. 

Everytime you see Namjoon, it feels like swallowing cement, like you’re rooted in place with nowhere to go. His eyes make it impossible to move when you’re in their sights. Perhaps that’s why your immediate reaction upon seeing him is always anger, to look away from him for fear of him seeing all your ugliness. There sure is a lot of that lately. 

The sun begins to set, and you let your hazy mind focus on the one thing you planned to do today. It’s not often you make plans anymore, not ones that don’t involve the bar anyway, but today is important. It may be the most important plan you’ve ever made, but first you have somewhere to be. 

Taking the brown-bag covered bottle of wine from your coat pocket, you take a swig, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and walking across the street towards the cemetery. 

“Looking good, man,” Jooheon says, wiping his hair back off his forehead. 

The heaters in the lobby have managed to ward off the sudden icy weather that’s fallen over Yeocho. Namjoon’s almost positive that if he looked outside, snow would begin to fall, and he can’t deny he always loves watching the first snow of the year. He always used to sit with you, usually watching from your bedroom window, his head automatically turning so he could see your twinkly eyes staring out at the dark, nose twitching in anticipation. 

The memory is a sharp, swift kick to the gut at moments like this, especially after the last interaction the two of you had. He wants to make it right, to go see you, but he doesn’t want to smother you into accepting his presence again. You’re going through shit, terrible shit, and he knows most of how you’re feeling. 

When his mom died, you were there for him day in, day out, much to Seokjin’s annoyance. The older man never said anything, but Namjoon could tell at the time, even during your hushed phone conversations with him when Namjoon was sat by the fire, as you snuck off into the kitchen to make hot chocolate and call Seokjin to explain why you wouldn’t be coming over again. 

The house had always felt empty when you had to leave for work at the studio, and Namjoon can only imagine it’s a hundred times worse with you in the house alone every day. He feels ill at the thought of you curled up on that old sofa crying. 

“Namjoon?” Jooheon says again, shaking Namjoon from his own form of torture, “You good?”

“Uh…yeah,” He smiles weakly at Jooheon who stands over him, handing him a beer. Namjoon’s hand aches from pulling up floorboards all day, and he’s sure he’s gonna have a couple of calluses on his hands. Though, it’s almost nice to feel the hard days work in his whole body instead of the usual lower back pain he leaves the office with, “Thanks, man,”

“Still thinking about, Y/N?”

Namjoon almost startles a little like when he was a teenager. Oh, there were so many times he was asked questions about you, mostly by his mom. How’s Y/N, honey? Did you see Y/N today? Have you asked that girl out yet? Namjoon fights off a smile at his mother’s insistent voice replaying in his mind, glancing up at Jooheon as he sips at his beer, “Yeah, actually. Just worried about her,”

“Aren’t we all?” Jooheon blows out a whistle, “She shouldn’t be on her own in that house. If she sold that place, she would be able to buy back the studio in no time,” Jooheon snorts, “Or better yet, get outta this place,”

“Yeocho has it’s charm,” Namjoon says, feeling oddly defensive about his hometown, “Besides, Y/N would never sell that house. She loves it. Aside from that asshole ex of hers, it was probably the only thing holding her back. The house and her mom,” his voice grows wistful, “I should go see her,”

“I can come if you like? I mean…” Jooheon gives Namjoon a cheeky smile, “she still likes me,”

Namjoon rolls his eyes, almost missing the flicker of jealousy in his chest, “Thanks for the reminder,”

By the time Jooheon and Namjoon get to your house, Namjoon can already tell you’re not home. The lights are off, and there’s a stony silence that surrounds the property, it’s almost eerie, and it sends a chill running down his back. When he knocks on the door a second time with no answer, he starts looking around, trying to shake his memory. 

“What you looking for?�� Jooheon asks, cupping his hands to look through the darkened window, he backs away just as Namjoon finds it - the spare key under the plant pot. There’s an odd sense of warmth that flows through him, another thing that hasn’t changed, “A spare key? I don’t know, man. Isn’t this breaking and entering?”

“Not with a key,” Namjoon says, not feeling totally thrilled by the idea, but he has to get this icky feeling off of him. Something feels wrong, “I just want to check,”

When the two men enter the home, it’s trashed, smashed glass in the kitchen, a mirror toppled in the hallway, sofa cushions ripped and tossed aside like garbage. The scent of alcohol drifts throughout the whole house, and when Namjoon steps in a puddle of liquor, he finds something that makes his blood run cold. 

“Is that a match?”

Jooheon’s perplexed voice rings loud in the silence house, and Namjoon bends to pick it up. The match is black at the nub, a signal it had burnt, and from the smell of it, recently too. “Yeah,” Namjoon says, his voice sounding very far away to his own ears, “she missed,”

“What?”

“She threw it to hit the booze,” He walks further into the house, the alcohol staining the dusty carpet in dark blooms, and suddenly Namjoon can’t breathe, “she…she meant to burn it down,” 

Jooheon is deathly silent beside Namjoon, and it’s only within a few seconds that he springs into action, a hand on Namjoon’s shoulder, “I’m gonna call the cops, you check upstairs and I’ll take another look around here. Try to stay calm,”

Namjoon is so beyond the point of calm that he feels as if he’s gone into shock. He can’t imagine what you were thinking, or maybe he can and just doesn’t want to admit it. His body moves independent of his brain, and he’s sure it's just pure adrenaline fuelling his actions as he drops the burnt match in the wastepaper bin by the stairs, gripping the hand rail as he takes the stairs two at a time. 

Your bathroom, his first choice to look, is clear. He chances a look in your mother’s room, his heart sinking and lifting within one breath as he finds it completely untouched, your mom’s hospital-grade bed still tilted upwards as if she had been sitting up. His eyes fall to the chair beside the bed, and he shakes his head, a lump rising in his throat. 

You shouldn’t have had to go through that alone, to watch your mom slowly pass away. Why the fuck wasn’t he here? His chest is heaving by the time he pushes open your door, and he’s not sure if it’s relief or panic that has his blood rushing in his ears. Your room is empty, save for the utter chaos that perfectly summarises your life. He smells alcohol and vomit, and he wants to retch, mostly because of the reality of how your life has been. If he didn’t realise it before, he does now, he can’t ignore it as the sight of clothes, bottles and grime lay scattered around your bedroom. His eyes glance up, muscle memory from the years he spent laying on your bed with you and looking at the freshly painted planets done by your mother, an artist just like you. 

He feels a tear leak from his eye, dribbling down his cheek to where his jaw tightens. He turns away from the room in shame, jogging down the steps just in time to see Jooheon race from the kitchen, his eyes wide and hopeless as he shakes his head. Even as Jooheon confirms it, Namjoon knows exactly where you are, and he doesn’t wait for his friend, racing out of the door and into the freezing night air. 

His breaths sweep around him in clouds of white smoke, his chest almost aching from how cold it’s gotten in the moments he spent searching your house, and he doesn’t have time to get out his phone for the flashlight before he’s taking that well-beaten patch, his feet slipping on a rock or two along the way. He’s pushing aside the grass, breathing hard as the tears cool on his face, this heavy dread sitting in his stomach, almost painful, enough to make him want to lean over and retch onto the waterlogged bank of the lake. 

He gets to the clearing, finding the pier, but you’re not on it like last time. He skids to a stop, almost slipping on a patch of black ice as he runs his hands through his hair, tugging at the strands. Jooheon must’ve followed him, because a pool of white light comes up beside him followed by his friend, panting. 

“Y/N!” Namjoon cups his hands, Jooheon standing close by as he swings the flashlight out to the lake, “Fuck!”

“The lake’s frozen,” Jooheon says, almost too quiet, his eyes narrowed as he continues shining the light out to the water’s surface. It’s on the second or third sweep that Namjoon grips his wrist, forcing the light towards a hunched, black shape on the water. “Jesus,”

Namjoon is panting, his eyes almost blurry from the adrenaline running through his system, and his lips are numb when he speaks, “The lake isn’t strong enough,”

Jooheon’s hands reach up to clutch at his hair as Namjoon speaks, realising the predicament. Namjoon tugs the flashlight out of his hands, the pool of light finding the back of your head as you begin to turn. 

You’re far away, but Namjoon can see your blotchy red cheeks, the bottle in your hand and the sway in your steps. You slip once, and Namjoon’s heart jumps into his throat, but when you right yourself, you stare at him with lifeless eyes. With a trembling lip, you raise your hand, doing something he never thought he would see you do again. 

It’s an old game the two of you used to play, spelling out letters on each other’s palms so the other could guess the word, but this time you’re not close enough to reach his palm, so you settle for spelling it in the air instead. The light on you is trembling as Namjoon fights to hold the torch steady, and you manage to spell out two words. 

I’m sorry

And then, Namjoon’s world ends as you stomp your foot once, breaking the ice and falling into the dark, cold water below. 

taglist: @maryseesthings @rkivesfilm @btsffreader92 @creolesoul2seoul @kissme-ornot

#bts smut #bts angst #bts x reader #bts scenario #namjoon angst #namjoon smut #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #bts x you #namjoon fanfic #bts fanfic #namjoon scenario

[7ndipity]

Dating Namjoon headcanons

Warnings: swearing, suggestive, teeny bit of angst

A/N: I realized that I hadn't written anything for Joon in a hot minute, so let's change that, shall we?

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

Dating Namjoon feels like one of those early 2000s romance movies.

Utterly frustrating but soo worth it.

He talks a lot of hype in his songs, but I think when he first meets someone he's really into, he's a fucking mess.

Like it's Joon, but it's Joon, you know what I mean?

Red ears, stumbling over his words(and feet), getting flustered every other sentence.

Probably walked into a wall while distracted talking to you.

Don't get me wrong tho, once he gets the butterflies to chill and gets comfortable, the rizz is BACK and in full force.

Big on eye contact

Stares at you with absolute heart eyes(if you've seen that clip of him watching Hobi from Bon Voyage, you know what I'm talking about)

But can flip the switch in the blink of an eye, and be looking at you like he's gonna eat you alive(we love a duality king)

Simp Romantic. Will randomly bring you flowers just cause he was thinking about you(but he's always thinking about you, so why was today any different?)

Writes soo many songs/lyrics about you, but rarely tells you about them directly. He just asks if you wanna hear something he's been working on, and then sits back and watches your faves as you catch the hidden meanings and references. At the end, he's just sitting there, grinning, asking "You like it?"

(Like, yes, I like it you fucking dork!)

Always remember important dates like birthdays and anniversaries( first date, first kiss, everything)

Museum and bookstore dates are a given.

Buying/sharing books with you is probably one his favorite forms of intellectual intimacy, because, for him, each one is a glimpse into your mind.

If you mention one of your favorite titles and he hasn't read it, he's gonna find it asap.

Would try to get you to workout with him and be gym buddies.(I don't know if I like or hate that idea tho?)

Random texts at 1am asking if you're up and wanna hang out?(may or may not be outside your place already, cause he's over-eager and forgot to text earlier)

Endless, late night talks about everything from music to the meaning of life to what jelly bean flavor is superior(it's watermelon)

Also random trips together. Could be to the beach, could be to Sweden, who knows? You bring out his spontaneity and are one of the only people who can get him to take a vacation anyway.

He is a workaholic though, so you have to look out for him sometimes, make sure he eats, sleeps, touches grass, etc.

You probably bicker and butt heads a lot, but y'all make sure it never gets out of hand and try to find a solution.

(Lowkey possessive, but won't admit it)

Not a fan of pda, but he *clings*.

He tries to be subtle about it, but fails because it's like there's a gravitational pull between the two of you from the way he's constantly within arm's reach wherever you are.

Same goes for when you're alone. He's not technically cuddling you, but he always somehow ends up pressed to your side or back, or has a hand on you in some way.

Another member of the 'Protective Squad'. Like, if anyone so much as looks in your direction the wrong way, he's got the death glare locked on them.

Pretty classic when it comes to nicknames for you. Things like 'honey', 'baby', 'jagi'. Adds 'my' in front of any of them when he's in the mood to fluster you.

Which reminds me, he is the BIGGEST FUCKING TEASE ISTG.

He knows exactly what riles you up, and then just gives you these soft, sweet little kisses like you're not about to combust. Has the nerve to then smirk and call you needy(I wanna fight him)

Finds the most random things you do attractive. The way you read. The way you make your coffee. The weird little face you make when your flipping through Netflix.

Although he seems a bit cautious, I actually think a relationship with him might move pretty fast. Like, he's fighting back from asking you to move in with him after five or six months type of fast.

Lives for domesticity with you.

Quiet, sleepy mornings together. Messy hair and glasses over tired eyes, resting against your shoulder as he brings you coffee while you cook breakfast.

I know he said he's not sure abt kids anymore, but I do see him possibly getting a pet with you to 'round out the household'. Something quiet and low maintenance though, like a couple hermit crabs.(would probably name one after a favorite artist/author and then name the other smth random like 'blue')

Again, I don't know how to end these. Just love him, please.

#namjoon scenario #namjoon fluff #namjoon #namjoon scenarios #namjoon headcanons #namjoon x y/n #namjoon x reader #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts reaction #bts reactions #bts headcanons #bts x y/n #bts x reader #7ndipity

[borathae]

↳ Index [Day 12 - Thigh Riding]

Pairing: soft dom!Namjoon x sub!Reader

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

Wordcount: 1.7k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You wanna cum?" he asks, feeling his cock throb at your words. 

"Yeah, so bad. Please." 

"I'm not stopping you baby, I’m just here to catch you. Yeah?" he speaks softly and with such comfort that falling for him feels so, so good. 

"Namjoon, ah", you moan, crumbling on his thigh with your head thrown back and your fingers on his chest. You can feel it vibrate in his moans and then you tremble out of control and all you really register is your own convulsing body and your pounding head. 

You come down with a whimper of his name, falling around his neck to seek refuge in his embrace. 

"Good girl, I’m so proud of you", he praises you, caressing your back slowly. You are panting so much, shivering like crazy. All he wants to do is keep you safe and comforted. 

"Oh my god", you croak, barely catching your breath.

"Are you okay?" 

"Yeah just….dizzy."

Namjoon chuckles, giving your butt a little pat. He cranes his neck to kiss your temple, keeping his lips pressed against it afterwards.

"I'm right here baby, relax as long as you want to", he whispers, wrapping you up in feelings of safety and comfort. 

#namjoon smut #namjoon fanfic #namjoon scenario #namjoon oneshot #namjoon x reader #namjoon x you #bts smut #bts fanfic #bts scenario #bts oneshot #bts x reader #bts x you #bangtan smut #bangtan fanfic #bangtan scenario #bangtan oneshot #bangtan x reader #bangtan x you #fanfic: kinktober22

[taetaespeaches]

“Keep it up and you’re never shoveling my walks again.”

namjoon x reader (oc) genre: fluff word count: 1.3K

a/n: Hi lovelies! This fic started with the simple idea of Joon and Daisy/reader walking around in the winter time and him being adorable about a small Christmas tree. The rest- well, I don’t know how it came to be but I hope you all enjoy and thanks for reading! :)) 

Walking happily down the street, you actively avoided meeting Namjoon’s stare, knowing he was watching you as you smugly swung your shopping bag back and forth. 

“You won’t even look at me,” he huffed and shook his head, though you could hear it in his voice that he was biting back a smile. “You’re so proud of yourself,” he continued his lighthearted complaints. Rolling your eyes, you stepped in front of him, halting his steps, your hand resting on his shoulder to hold him in place. Widening your eyes, you looked at him directly to make your point. “Stop it,” he told you quietly, a small grin breaking through, his dimples appearing as small divots in his cheeks.

“Stop complaining then. And stop glaring at me,” you retorted, Namjoon taking offense.

“I haven’t been glaring,” he defended himself, making you shoot him an expression that said, really?  

“I bought the shoes, get over it,” you shot back, Namjoon’s mouth dropping open as he glanced down at the shopping bag.

A gust of cold wind struck you both, sending his hair flying across the side of his face and a shiver through his tall frame. You were struck with the desire to warm him up.

“You can buy whatever you want,” he simply stated, not saying everything that was sitting inside his mouth. Cocking your head to the side, you waited for him to say more as you reached for his hair and brushed it to the side so it was out of his features. “It’s just, you didn’t need them.”

“I need snow boots to shovel my sidewalk,” you informed him, tucking the strands behind his ear, appreciating the way he leaned slightly into your touch.

“You’re hardly even at your place anymore,” he shot back, flashing a know it all expression.

“I still need to clean the walks off even if I’m at your place ninety-nine percent of the time,” you informed him.

“Well I shovel your walks,” he pointed at his chest, pouting adorably. “You’re trying to boot me out of your life,” he pouted adorably.

“Was that a pun?” You deadpanned, watching as his mouth spread into an amused smile.

“It wasn’t intentional,” he admitted with slight embarrassment, his eyes crinkling as a dorky hyena-like laugh slipped from his lips.

Giggling, you grasped one side of his unzipped jacket and tugged it toward the center of his chest. “This should be zipped. It’s cold out here,” you told him, just before flattening your hand over his heart. “And I’m not booting you out of my life, I just think I should be able to take care of some of this stuff myself.”

Namjoon watched you for a moment before reaching around your body to pull you into a hug, his lips easily finding your temple where he left a sweet kiss. “Let me do it every once in a while though. Every other time it snows.”

Chuckling against him, you nodded, peering at his face to see him smiling brightly. Rolling your eyes once more, you glanced down at your shopping bag. “But that means half as many wears.” Namjoon scoffed through his grin, making you giggle in response. Sighing, you relented, giving the man what he wanted. You really couldn’t deny him when he was smiling like that. “Fine. Every other snow storm.”

“That’s all I want,” he beamed, stealing a quick kiss from your lips before turning your form and pushing you further down the sidewalk, his arm slung around you so he held you in a back hug. Before you could process what he was doing, the bag was snatched from your grasp, Namjoon carrying it at his side. When you looked back at him to complain, he simply nodded forward with a proud smirk.

Groaning in protest, you stomped forward childishly, eliciting another cute laugh from your boyfriend. The sound was like a gift just for you, his mouth close to your ear as he let his amusement flow from his lips. That was until the noise shifted into a small gasp as he pointed over your frame to a small winter flora vendor booth. It consisted of mostly wreaths and a few Christmasy flowers that you didn’t know the names of, though you’d be tempted to place a bet that your nerdy boyfriend could enlighten you.

Following the direction of his index finger, your gaze fell upon the tiny Christmas tree, knowing without a doubt that the tree was what had captured your boyfriend’s attention. Namjoon was just a tall soft man who loved tiny things, after all.

Undeniably fond of him, you began leading him over to the tree, Namjoon following along like an overgrown child, excitement shimmering in his pretty eyes. “It’s so cute!” Joon fawned over the tree, his voice raised an octave as his fingers felt at the tiny branches. “Hi, friend,” he greeted the conifer in that voice he often reserved for Monie, crabs he found on the beach, and when he was being especially needy and cute, for you.

And that was it. Between his bright eyes, his tone, and the smile he wore, there was no way you were going home without the tree. Grabbing the tree by its small trunk, you lifted it from the table surface.

“Wait, what-”

“This little shrub is coming home with us,” you informed him with a proud smile.

His mouth dropped open for a moment before quickly closing it, followed by a tilt of his head. “Well,” he started, making you already glare at him in expectation. “It’s not really a shrub, shrubs have multiple stems whereas this only has one,” he lectured you, instantly triggering you to raise your eyebrows at him. “So it’s a tree,” he added tentatively, nearly looking away to avoid your gaze as he held back a guilty grin.

“Are you done?” You challenged him, smirking at him as he thought for a moment.

“It’s just, the two terms are rarely interchangeable-”

“Keep it up and you’re never shoveling my walks again,” you teased him, unable to hold back your smile as Namjoon raised his arms up in surrender.

As you paid for the tree, Namjoon stared at you from beside you, an adoring expression overtaking his features. There was a certain warmth etched across his face when you scooped the tree up and turned to leave the booth and continued making your way back to Namjoon’s place.

“What?” You asked, Namjoon shaking his head as he flashed a stunning smile at you. “We’re gonna need decorations now,” you told him, hauling the tree as he carried your snow boots.

“You didn’t have to buy this for me,” he nodded at the tree as you both stepped down the sidewalk.

“This tree?” you emphasized the correct term, smiling as he chuckled in guilty amusement. “Yes I did,” you defended yourself. “Your cute ass smile and the softness in your eyes left me no choice. Plus you talked to it! In that adorable voice you do.”

“So what you’re saying is, I was so cute you simply couldn’t resist,” he playfully gloated, making you groan teasingly.

“You know I’d kill for those dimples, don’t act surprised,” you countered.

“This really isn’t fair though, not only do you not need me for your snow removal needs but I haven’t gotten you anything today!” He complained, sighing deeply to emphasize his disappointment.

“Buy me a coffee,” you shrugged. “I would love a coffee.”

“I’ll buy you the biggest coffee they have,” he flashed a pretty and proud close-mouthed grin as he stood up a little taller, his frame suddenly looking much more broad and confident. “Hell, I’ll buy you the whole fucking cafe.”

Giggling, you leaned against his side, allowing the man to wrap his free arm around you. Your boyfriend was a dork. A tall beautiful whiny dork. Sighing in content, you shook your head as a smile lingered on your face. “The large coffee will do, Dimples.”

#namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon imagine #namjoon fic #namjoon drabble #namjoon scenario #bts reactions #bts x reader #bts fluff #bts imagines #bts fics #bts drabbles #bts scenarios #namjoon fanfic #bts fanfics #namjoon blurb #bts blurbs

[hyunnows]

WHO YOU GONNA CALL? | TAPE #1

A series of tapes describing Namjoon's life since joining the Supernatural Investigation Unit.

PAIRING(S) | Namjoon x reader

THEMES | cop!au, x-files!au, ghostbusters!au, cop!Namjoon, cop!reader, youtuber!Seokjin, youtuber!Taehyung, ghosts, conspiracies, cryptids, the paranormal, and the supernatural are main subjects

WORD COUNT | 1.1k+

RATING | pg

NOTE | im so excited for this series im ngl--not sure how frequently i will be updating yet but i think once every two or three weeks? I dont want to take it too seriously (especially since it will probably flop) but oh well... also i know i should have posted this before halloween but it would be too close to the release of 'a love so beautiful' and i want to try to release fics consistently again so i have to keep these a bit spaced out. any this was a new style of writing for me, so i really hope you all enjoy this <3 if you would like to join the taglist, feel free to rb, or reply letting me know--or you can check out my taglist form as well <3333 have a great day/night!

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“So how did it all begin?” A man in a dark suit looms over the metal table, his words echoing off the brick walls and two-way mirror as he adjusts the large camera.

A more timid man sweats under his stare, looking into the camera’s lens awkwardly. “Well, it was the day of my promotion,”

“You’re going to kill this interview,” the brunet mumbles to himself, fixing his tie for the third time. “You’re going to do great and get promoted. Then you’ll finally be a detective.”

He huffs as his tie becomes undone, reaching for one of his clip-ons instead before putting it back down. “You have plenty of time Namjoon, you can correctly fix your tie. A real detective wears real ties.”

He stares in the mirror, continuing to prepare himself. “I’m going to ace this interview. They’re going to like me, I’m going to be likable. Calm, put together, and ambitious—but not too ambitious, I’m going to be grateful for the opportunity. I’m going to get the position, and make mom and dad proud.”

“At least, I thought it was a promotion,” Namjoon almost sulks, arms crossing at the memory. 

“This isn’t a promotion interview, Officer Kim. You’re being transferred to the Supernatural Investigation Unit,” Chief Yoon sighs, leaning forward. “I’m sorry to have misled you.”

“The Supernatural Investigation Unit?” The suited man repeats, leaning toward Namjoon.

“Yeah, everyone called it the X-Files though, like the show.”

“Continue.”

“The thing is, we don’t really have the budget to keep the X-files up, but we don’t have enough to take them down either. I need you to debunk the work going on in there, so we can submit a legit request to get the unit removed.” Mr. Yoon’s voice rumbles out, the crinkles by his eyes appearing as he looks at Namjoon with a serious look. “Listen, if you get our evidence, and I’ll get you a promotion, deal?”

“Obviously I wanted the promotion, so I agreed.”

“Is that the only reason you were chosen to fulfill this job?” the interviewer asks, the same monotone voice filling the room.

“I wish, but it was because of my past,” Namjoon sighs, “I used to be really into ghosts. I wrote reports on it, took video evidence, documented everything so that I could find proof about them. Back then, I also had a YouTube channel with my friend–we were pretty popular at the time. Anyway, I ended up writing a book on it before deciding to leave it all behind to become a serious detective.”

“And are you a detective now?”

“No, look at me,” he gestures to the modified hazmat suit draped across his figure. “How many detectives do you know that wear ghost gear and thermal goggles?”

The interviewer looks at him, unamused and urgent for him to continue his retelling.

“I look up our old stuff and see that new copies of my book are for sale, and that the channel is still up and running–both with my name still on them. So I decided to track down my friend and have a chat with him.”

“Yah! I’m getting the door, stop nagging at me!” Namjoon taps his foot impatiently, hearing the all too familiar voice approach the door. “How can I help–Namjoon? What are you doing here?”

“Hey Jin, I was hoping I could talk to you about the book and the old channel.”

The older man nods his head in recognition, opening the door to allow the taller male in. “Have you seen how well they’re doing? The book is selling pretty well and the channel is blowing up pretty quickly these days,” he says, too enthusiastic for Namjoon’s liking.

“That’s actually my problem,” Namjoon starts, dodging all the odd equipment and supplies scattered around Seokjin’s floor. “I’m sorry, what is going on here?”

Seokjin motions for Namjoon to follow, walking into the nearest door to the left. Upon entering, the cop is met with a makeshift lab filled with beakers, random devices, steam, and many other chemicals Namjoon can’t imagine to be safe. Not to mention one slightly tidier corner of the room with a camera facing a small desk, a corkboard up behind him. Namjoon immediately recognizes the set-up. “This is where we’ve been operating from recently.”

“We?”

“Oh, right. I have a new partner, give me one second,” Jin sticks his head out of the room, inhaling a large breath and bellowing, “Taehyung!”

“Stop yelling!” A younger guy grunts as he enters the messy room.

Seokjin grins, “This is Taehyung, mechanical genius, and my partner.” Taehyung gives a small smile and wave, removing Jin’s arm from his shoulder with a shrug. “Back on track though, what’s going on, why are you here?”

“I need you to erase me from those videos–take them down, even. If you really need to keep them, private them. The book too, I want my name off of it. They’re ruining my life, they’re–”

“Haunting you?”

“Really?” Namjoon groans, a dour expression on his face at the attempt to joke. 

“We argued for a bit, and he refused and pried until he found out about my transfer. That didn’t make anything better for me.”

“How so?”

“Instead of understanding where I was coming from, he just kept telling me how ‘this was my chance to live my dream’.” He deflates a bit. “When we were kids, everyone made fun of us for being the ‘ghost kids’. Even our teachers, parents, and everyone thought we were crazy. I remember my mom telling me how she wanted me to be normal so bad.”

“I take it you come from a not-very-accepting neighborhood?”

“Not at all. Those people didn’t like anything abnormal in the slightest. You should have seen how happy everyone was when we left for college,” Namjoon laughs dryly. “It was really messed up for some dorks like us growing up.”

Namjoon straightens himself in the uncomfortable metal chair. “We both wound up going to college together, I took criminology, profiling, and forensics. He took a medical path, with a few courses in human behavior and psych, I think. We were in a robotics club in high school and took engineering for a bit before dropping the class.”

“During college, we still made our videos and stuff. We made the book then too, 300 pages of paranormal bullcrap we put together over a few years. Because of our educations, we considered ourselves to be a pretty credible source for the paranormal.”

“Why did you stop?”

“I got tired of being seen as a joke. I wanted to be important,” his face is void of any emotion as he recalls the day he told Seokjin he would be leaving for the police academy and packed up his things. “So, I joined the police force. I did a few years as a mall cop, then started getting assigned more important cases and assignments slowly. Then one day, I was getting ready to be Scully to somebody’s Mulder.”

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[kingofbodyrolls]

Namjoon fic recs 2023

Happy Joonie day! 💜🥳

In honor of Namjoon’s birthday, I want to share my ultimate favorite Namjoon fanfictions, that I’ve read this year 💜I haven’t read that much of Namjoon, just recently gotten into it, so the list might be small, but it contains some of the best stuff out there 💎 I want to thank each and every writer on this list for creating such wonderful stories and art - you are truly amazing ✨ All the fics on this list hold a dear place in my heart 🥹

❗Most of these fics are smutty as hell, so minors dni.❗ 

If you read anything on this list and you like it, please leave a comment to the writer or reblog the original fic’s post 💜And if you want more fic recs you can follow me to stay updated 🙂 A reblog on this post also helps, as it gets more exposure and seen by others, which in the end gives more love and exposure to the amazing writers on this list 🥰

BTS fic rec index → May | Jun | Jul | Aug | Sep (jjk)(💜) | Oct (pjm) | Nov (*) | Dec (ksj)(kth) |

Emoji meaning → angst = 🌩️, smut = 🥵, fluff = 🥰, comedy = 😂. 

⭐The Interpretation of Dreams by @ppersonna // knj x f.reader // phd mentor!namjoon, university!au // 🥵🥰

📝 He’s the man of your dreams, the an you’ve spent over 6 years pining over.  and he’s also your Ph.D. mentor and in charge of your very future.

🗨️ Looking for a smutty, slutty, funny and comforting fic? Well, look no further! 🌟 This really delivered 👏🏾 really, really good. The sexual tension between reader and Namjoon 💯 and then best friend Jimin, being the best chaotic slutty wingman EVER 🥵

⭐Deep End by @here2bbtstrash // knj x f.reader // established relationship, period!smut // 🥵🥰

📝 Your boyfriend suggests a new way to relieve your period cramps.

🗨️ Awww, this was so cute and sweet 🥺💖💯

⭐Baby Fever by @95rkives // knj x f.reader // established relationship // 🥰🥰🥰

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

🗨️ Gosh this was cute - and wonderfully fluffy 😍

⭐All Night by @luaspersona // knj x f.reader // college!au, brother’s best friend!au, s2l // 🥵

📝 When your brother bails on you, you have to find another way to entertain yourself for the night and Kim Namjoon just so happens to be a great company.

🗨️ This was the most perfect, pure masterpiece of fucking gold writing 🤌🏾🥵 it is insanely filthy, so deliciously smutty!! Like I think my soul has left my body 🥵 the writing, story and the characters were brilliant ✨ this is hands down one of my new favorites and I WILL read this again soon, I promise you! Don’t sleep on this sweet bad boy Namjoon, okay 🥵 such an easy recommendation for me to make - do yourself a favor and read it if you haven’t (and if you have, then read it again!) ♥️💯

⭐Love Language by @rmnamjoons // knj x f.reader // soulmate!au // 🥵🥰

📝 Exactly one year before one meets their soulmate, their love’s first words spoken to them appear as a tattoo on their wrist. When Namjoon’s tattoo appears, however, it’s not of words, but of the most beautiful set of eyes he’s ever seen.

🗨️ I know that most of this was just pure smut, but damn it was cute 😭🥺💖

⭐Stretch You Out by @chateautae // knj x jjk x f.reader // college!au, s2f2l, gym employee!namjoon, gym employee!jungkook // 🥵🥰

📝 You have a plan for your crappy, diabolical ex who’s set on ruining your life; making him jealous by snagging a raunchy photo with two hot employees at the gym. what you didn’t have a plan for? befriending the mischievous pair to aid in your revenge and ending up underneath not just one, but both of them.

🗨️ Holy fucking shit 🥵 🫣 this was so exceptionally good! So deliciously filthy, it really delivered on every freaking aspect 💯 incredible 👏🏾 perfection 👏🏾 💎

⭐The Making of: Love by @inkjam-moon // kmj x f.reader // actor!au, s2l (not really strangers, ‘cuz they know of each other) // 🥰🥵😂

📝 When the movie you’re in requires to to film a risque scene with a world renowned sex symbol, your virginity is suddenly all you can focus on.

🗨️ I think this is funny, so I’ll tag it with comedy! Jimin is in it (he is readers manager) and he is just doing his best job of being a supporting character 👏 It’s good! 

⭐All Aboard! (the passion express) by @ve1vetyoongi // knj x f.reader // office worker!namjoon // 🥵

📝 There were not many things that got your blood boiling in the same way that two simple words could. Kim Namjoon. The name of your irritating and (unfortunately enough, as the universe would have it) incredibly handsome co-worker. Which is exactly why you never expected to find your self on your knees for him on the train home.

🗨️ Holy fuck, fuck, fuck this was so incredibly filthy (in the best way possible) 🥵 the tension between reader and Namjoon was perfect, the build up was so satisfying 🌟 what’s not to like ✨😍

⭐The Wedding Arrangement by @sugaurora // knj x f.reader // ‘enemies’ to friends to lovers, wedding!au // 🥵🥰🌩️

📝 Unfortunately, he’s just gotten engaged to someone who isn’t you. Even more unfortunately, he expects you to help plan the wedding alongside Kim Namjoon, his other best friend and, based on your first meeting, just another judgmental jerk. Putting aside your distaste for the sake of your friend’s happiness, you both set about giving Seokjin the wedding of his dreams. Following a rough and satisfying affair at the caterer’s, you strike an unusual deal: you and Namjoon will be enemies with benefits until the wedding is over. And after six months of wedding planning, you both just might learn that weddings aren’t usually the end, but a brand new beginning.

🗨️ This was so amazing 🥹 the characters had so much depth and ugh! It was just so, so good. It was a pleasure reading their love unfolding 🥰 Aish, I’m soft! It’s filled with plenty of soft, slight heartbreaking angst at times, but oh so fluffy and smutty too! It was perfect 👌🏾 💯 please don’t sleep on this one, okay? 🥹

⭐Inside my Mind by @jimlingss // knj x f.reader // high school!au // 🥰🥵😂

📝 You’re safe in the confines of your mind. Free to think whatever, free to fantasize to your heart’s content. And your imagination tends to quite a wild turn when you’re dying from sheer boredom. But when some GUY IN YOUR CLASS CAN FUCKING READ MINDS - YOU’RE NOT SAFE ANYMORE! WHAT THE FUCKSKDKASDFGHJKL—

Borahae and happy birthday Joonie 💜 🥳 🎂

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