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bangtanflirt · 13 days

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(Un)natural Instincts (Part 12)

*Series taglist is closed.

angst, fluff, smut

Pairings: OT7 x Fem Reader, Human CEO Reader, Human Assistant Yoongi, Wolf Hybrids Joon, Jin, Hobi, Jimin, Tae, and Kook.

Basic premise: You and your assistant end up rescuing six wolf hybrids. No part of the process is easy.

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4 > Part 5 > Part 6 > Part 7 > Part 8 > Part 9 > Part 10 > Part 11 > Part 12

General Warnings: Hybrid abuse and lab experimentation, drugs, hybrids as second-class citizens/owned property (Minors DNI, 18+ content)

Specific Warnings: discussions around SA triggers (mainly boundary setting, not angsty), one brief mention of a gunshot, gunshot wound, fear of punishments, hints to street crime violence, vague hints to smut

____

Hoseok watches as Taehyung gets lost in the painting, fascinated by how he repeatedly goes back and fixes each detail. It’s endearing, watching him bite his bottom lip in concentration.

“What’s that stuff you’re adding to the paint?”

“Poppyseed oil. It makes the paint dry slower.”

“You want it to dry slower?”

The younger one nods, “This way I can retouch whatever needs to be fixed without worrying about it drying.”

He hands his hyung the brush in his hand, which Hoseok swirls into the paint thinner before handing back clean.

“I didn’t know you could add stuff to the paint like that.”

“They’re called mediums. There's fast-drying ones too, which I’ll be using for the clothes and hair since I want to work in lots of separate layers for those.”

“This is already all too complicated for me.” Hoseok laughs, preferring to mindlessly watch the paint go down than think about drying times and layers.

Taehyung laughs, leaning in to give his hyung a peck on the cheek.

Jimin walks in at the exact time, smiling fondly at the scene. He brings in a platter of freshly cut fruit, most of which are Taehyung’s favorites.

“Fruit delivery!”

Hoseok brings the boy close, holding him by the waist as he opens his mouth for a piece. Taehyung follows, stopping his brushwork to be fed.

“How much longer until the painting’s done?” Jimin asks while popping a cut strawberry into the younger wolf’s mouth.

Taehyung holds up three fingers, mouth too distracted by the sweet fruit to speak.

“Three days?”

He nods.

“So three more days until you stop cooping up in here and pay more attention to me,” Jimin pouts.

“Are you actually getting jealous of Y/N’s late grandmother?” Taehyung teases, causing Hoseok to almost choke on a grape laughing.

It’s the sound again. The sound of Hoseok laughing. He seems completely oblivious as to how much it affects his packmates—how much love it fills in their hearts.

___

Jin reaches for Namjoon’s hand, attempting to soothe the worried wolf as they both wait for Jungkook to come out from his bath.

This isn’t going to be easy.

Joon says with furrowed brows alone.

He’s going to hate this.

Jin agrees with a light squeeze to his packmate’s fingers.

It wouldn’t be hard to convince an outsider that Jin and Namjoon can, in fact, read each other’s minds. Wouldn’t take much convincing at all, with how well the two communicate with just looks. But there’s no mind-reading abilities at play, just years of understanding each other.

They were the first two members of the pack, after all.

Namjoon still remembers the goosebumps on his arms when he first met Jin—it was the first time he’d ever felt the pull of a pack bond. A rush of adrenaline, serotonin, and dopamine all creating a buzzing cocktail in his body when the older wolf smiled his way.

Jin wasn’t innocent either, he knew he was riling the usually-poised Alpha up the second he looked at him. It was a fun game, teasing and taunting the big bad wolf until he was taught a lesson behind some shabby hybrid bar neither of them remember the name of anymore.

Namjoon's mind wanders back to that night, amused at the idea of telling his younger self that he’d be starting his forever family with that gorgeous man he met in a rundown dive bar—that four more wonderful hybrids would walk into their life and make them complete.

He doesn’t think he’d tell his younger version about the lab. He wouldn’t want to know.

The bathroom door opens, and both pairs of wolf eyes focus in on the youngest.

“Hey Koo” Jin says in his sweetest tone.

Jungkook flashes a toothy grin to his packmates, shuffling over to give both a chaste kiss on the lips.

“We were actually waiting for you pup, wanted to talk to you about something.”

Namjoon’s solemn tone isn’t lost on the wolf, putting him on edge as he takes his place opposite them on the bed.

“Is something wrong?” His eyes nervously dart between the two older ones.

Jin decides to take the lead, going in with as much tact as possible.

“First of all, we just want to say how happy we are that the hormones effects are wearing off on you. It’s great seeing you be yourself again...”

Namjoon jumps in, feeling Jin’s nervousness take over, “…but we do have to be mindful of our situation pup. Pushing away y/n isn’t going to do us any favors here.”

“Or Yoongi.” Jin adds.

Jungkook almost rolls his eyes, but he manages to hold back.

“I’ll behave.” He grits out halfheartedly.

“I’m going to need you to be more convincing than that Koo.”

The wolf glares at his Alpha, a sign of defiance Namjoon is not in the mood to entertain.

“Stop being bratty before I spank it out of you pup.”

Jungkook’s gaze changes in an instant. The challenging glint in his eyes is replaced with something far more devastating—hurt. Jin’s hands reach for Namjoon’s shoulder, pulling him back before the situation escalates even more.

“Why stop at a spanking? Might as well put the Obedience collar back on so you can have the docile and well behaved pup you want so badly.”

He doesn’t wait to be dismissed, almost running out of the room before the other two can see his glossy eyes.

Jin lets out a dejected sigh, “You shouldn’t have brought up punishment baby.”

Namjoon knew it was a mistake the second the words left his mouth, but it was already too late then.

“I-I know…it was just instinct.” Guilt overtakes his features, regretting not thinking twice before speaking.

The moment Jungkook looked at him with that defiant stare, he couldn’t help but respond in the way he had a thousand times before the lab. Back when punishments were just a tool for an Alpha to reign in a bratty wolf—not synonymous with physical and psychological torture.

He knows he can’t discipline his pack the way other Alphas do anymore, not when they’ve had enough punishments to last three lifetimes.

Jin tugs on the younger wolf’s sleeve, pulling him back to Earth, “Go apologize and make it up to him.”

“What if he wants space from me?”

“We’re talking about Jungkook here, your clingiest pup.”

Jin isn’t wrong. Jungkook isn’t the type to want to be left alone when he’s upset.

Namjoon follows the scent trail carefully, grimacing at the smell of salt mixed into Jungkook’s signature vanilla. Salt meant tears, and tears meant his pup was cooping himself up in some corner and sobbing. It doesn’t take the Alpha long to find which corner exactly, as the not-so-small wolf can’t exactly hide behind a dresser the way he thinks he can. But that doesn’t stop him from trying—bundled up with his knees to his chest in one of the spare bedrooms.

“Koo, sweetheart…” He keeps his voice soft.

Jungkook simply sniffles in response, not daring to look up with the wet streaks on his face. If this was Taehyung or Jimin, he’d have heard a “go away” by now. But not his Koo. Despite his willful attitude, there’s nothing Jungkook wants more than to be babied when he’s crying.

Namjoon cautiously sits in front of the boy, leaving space to keep their bodies from touching.

“Hey pup, can you look at me please.”

With his face still buried in his knees, the wolf simply shakes his head in refusal.

“I’m sorry about what I said Koo. I shouldn’t have brought up punishment…and the last thing I want is for you—or anyone—to be on those drugs again.”

“You’re lying.” Jungkook finally raises his head, eyes watery and puffy, “I was easier to deal with when I had the collar on. I know it. You know it. Everybody knows it. Hell, even I wish I could turn off all these thoughts and just behave. But I can’t…that’s not me.” His voice breaks towards the end, sobs threatening to spill from his throat.

Panic flashes on Namjoon’s face, composed demeanor becoming harder to maintain as Jungkook lays all his insecurities bare. There’s a quiet rage bubbling in his stomach—pointed a little at Kang but mainly at himself. Rage for letting Jungkook’s self esteem get to this point.

He knew from the day that Jungkook came into their lives that he’d need to be extra careful with him. Unlike the others, who jumped eagerly into his arms at the promise of a pack bond, his youngest pup was nothing but stand offish and distrustful for months.

It’s not hard to see how little love Jungkook has known prior to the pack, but things aren’t supposed to be like that anymore. Namjoon knows it’s naïve to think that all of Jungkook’s scars would be healed by now—knowing just how many he has—but wishful thinking got the better of him.

The boy in front of him looks just as insecure as he did when they first met. Except he’s not hiding it with sarcastic remarks and cold stares anymore…at least not to his packmates.

Namjoon makes sure to not let his frustration show in his words, needing to be as calm as possible to not spook the distressed boy.

“But this you is the one we fell in love with baby, how could we ever prefer any other version over it? I’ll admit you’re not the easiest pup from time to time, but I’d rather you be the most difficult wolf in the world than put that collar back on you.”

“Then why do you keep taking y/n’s side? She wants me back on the collar. I can tell. Wants me to be the sweet sweet angel they brainwashed me into being.”

“She doesn’t want you on the collar either Koo, she just doesn’t know this version of you…and you aren’t exactly letting her in either—which I know is hard for you, I understand it’s asking a lot, but I’m not doing this because I’m taking her side. I just think we have an actual shot of being happy here. You trust me, don’t you baby?”

Jungkook nods. No matter how upset he is, it’s instinct to nod when Namjoon asks that question. Of course he trusts his Alpha. He’d follow Namjoon to the ends of the world if he asked him to.

“I…I’ll try. But please…d-don’t punish me if I c-can’t.” The last part is whispered, as if it’s a shameful declaration. It is, to some extent, shameful for Jungkook to admit—that he shivers at the mention of the tamest punishments now.

Namjoon’s heart drops to his stomach at the helpless bundle of nerves in front of him.

“I won’t baby. I promise. Will you please come to me?”

Jungkook doesn’t waste time to scoot his way over, making himself small as he seeks safety in Namjoon’s embrace. Namjoon breathes a bit lighter, relieved at Jungkook’s lack of hesitation—the last thing he wants is his pup to be wary of him.

___

Hoseok looks over from one brunette to the other, both fidgeting as they try to find their words.

“What is it pups?”

Jimin clears his throat, tightening his hold on Taehyung’s arm before speaking up.

“Um..we just wanted to ask…” no matter how hard he tries, he can’t get the words out, “it’s nothing hyung! Forget about it.”

Taehyung, although disappointed, follows in understanding. The two are ready to retreat, but their hyung isn’t having any of that.

“Wait!” their hyung pouts, not wanting to be left out, “whatever it is, you can ask me.”

“It’s selfish” Taehyung takes the words out of Jimin’s mouth.

Hoseok raises a brow, waiting for further explanation only to be met with an awkward silence.

“Since when have you two ever thought twice before asking me for things?”

It’s true. They normally didn’t hesitate to ask their Hobi hyung for whatever they wanted. Why would they? He was their hyung and they were his precious pups to spoil.

But this wasn’t a normal situation.

“Whatever it is, I won’t get mad. You know I never get mad at you guys.”

Jimin wishes Hobi didn’t add that part, as it only makes him feel more gross in the moment,

“Fuck, I can’t do it. Please, let’s all drop this.”

Hoseok, however, isn’t ready to drop the subject.

“What could it possibly be that you’re so scare—” he stops as soon as the realization hits.

Truthfully, he’s been preparing for this conversation. With everyone else going back to normal, Hoseok knew it was just a matter of time before intimacy would come back into the equation for the rest of them.

“Oh pups, you don’t have to worry about me. I’ll be fine, really.”

Jimin raises a brow, wanting to make sure everyone’s on the same page. Hoseok continues on, assuring them that he isn’t misunderstanding the situation.

“If we’re being completely honest, I’m still not comfortable with the topic. There’s still a lot I need to work through to handle triggers around it, but whatever anyone else does is fine as long as I’m not asked to be part of it.”

“A-are you sure? With you tuning into your hybrid he—”

“I don’t tune in to anything in the house. Really guys, it’s fine! The only thing that’ll make me feel bad is if you hold yourselves back because of me.”

“We don’t want you just saying that for our sake hyung.”

Hoseok shakes his head with surety, “I’m not. As long as it’s away from me, I don’t mind.”

He punctuates with a smile, ruffling Tae’s hair to lighten the mood. It works on Taehyung, but Jimin’s brows are still furrowed.

“What about during our heats? Will you be okay next month?”

“I’ve talked to Y/N and Yoongi about it already. I’ll be staying with them at Yoongi’s place, but we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Right now, I’m telling you that I’m more than okay. Please don’t walk on eggshells around me.”

Jimin nods, deciding it best to trust his hyung’s judgement. Hoseok knows what’s best for himself, and it’s not Jimin’s place to decide what should and shouldn’t bother the older wolf.

___

You take a step back, huffing at your sixth failed attempt before diving back in.

You’re Shin Y/N.

You’ve made businessmen shake in their boots at the sound of your heels clicking. You’ve revived dying companies with one meeting. So why can’t you move this pesky little bookshelf to the other side of your office?

It’s been over fifteen minutes, and you can’t get the thing to budge at all. However, if it’s one thing you are, it’s stubborn. So you close your eyes and focus all your energy on pushing. To your surprise, the wooden shelf actually starts sliding this time. Ecstatic, you open your eyes to navigate the room--only to be met with the last sight you’re expecting to see.

It’s Jungkook, covered head to toe in black, with a detached expression you can’t quite read. He nonchalantly drags the piece of furniture, waiting for you to tell him where to stop.

“Right there is fine.”

He props it next to the standing lamp, making sure it’s flush against the wall before letting go.

“Thank you.” You want to say more, but you’re afraid of saying something wrong.

“Whatever.” He stuffs his fists in his hoodie before heading towards the door.

“Wait!” You panic, realizing you said that out loud. You don’t want him to leave but have no clue what to say next. Instinctively, you say the first thing that comes to your mind.

“You’ve been wearing that hoodie a lot…I can buy you more if you like—”

“No thank you.”

Your shoulders shrink. You know it’s not right, but throwing money at your problems has worked out pretty well for you thus far. Not to mention, it’s a lot easier than being emotionally vulnerable. But if money wasn’t going to solve this, your hand’s been forced to try the other way.

“I miss you.”

The words hang heavy in the air, with your fear of being rejected growing by the minute.

The wolf simply scoffs.

“Miss me? You mean you miss having a little pet following all your commands.”

You take a deep breath, reminding yourself of Namjoon’s words to keep composure.

Relax. Jungkook’s a bit difficult to win over, but it’s not impossible. He’s still a sweetheart once he lets you in—really lets you in, without the drugs making him.

Drugs or no drugs, you’ve seen the way he looks at his Alpha with stars in his eyes, or the way he pouts to his Jin hyung when he wants something. Despite the cold front he’s put up with you, he’s as warm as ever to his packmates. There’s still hope as long as you keep trying.

“That’s not true, Jungkook. You can’t just decide what I’ve been feeling and make your judgements based on that. It’s not fair.”

He narrows his eyes, bringing his arms up across his chest in a defensive stance.

“You can’t miss what you’ve never known.”

“I miss you telling me your favorite parts of the shows you’ve watched…or ranking the snacks in the pantry…or just coming by to tell me about your day. Was all of that really just the drugs? Would the real you really be so miserable hanging out with me? Do you hate me that much?”

You try to hold it back, but your eyes start watering right as you say the last sentence. Luckily, no tears spill.

Jungkook is taken aback nonetheless, not expecting the answer he got. His eyes soften up ever so slightly, but not enough to douse the fire of unease you’re burning under.

“I don’t hate you,” he huffs, playing with where his hands meet inside the hoodie instead of meeting your gaze, “and I like living here. But I’m not going to wait for you at the door like a little puppy anymore. And I’m not going to expect you to treat me like my packmates do. You’re not a part of our pack.”

He’s not giving you a lot, but you’re grasping tight at the little assurance he does give. For now, a “I don’t hate you” seems like the best thing you’re going to get from him—and you’re not in any position to complain.

“I understand!” This time, you seem like the lost little puppy, wagging your tail for any approval you can get, “I’m not trying to impose on your pack. I know it’s not my place. I just…want to be friends? Whenever you’re ready to consider me one, I’ll be here.”

You don’t give him any time to respond, as the tears threatening to spill down have you brushing past before the hybrid fully processes what just happened.

Friend.

Somewhere between packmate and total stranger.

Jungkook’s never had a real one before.

He’d never had friends or family before the pack. Just an abandoned stray moving from one back alley to the next. The last time someone asked him to be “friends” was a couple months after he’d just turned eighteen—a wealthy Alpha looking for a fighter to make money off of. He’d agreed, desperate to get off the streets. It wasn’t a bad gig, but it didn’t exactly leave him feeling good either.

Days of nonstop practicing, and nights of nonstop fighting, all so his “friend” could squeeze every last dollar from the matches.

The other fighters didn’t want anything to do with him, with his constant wins getting on everyone else’s nerves. And everyone else in town didn’t want anything to do with him either, with his bloodied and bruised appearance not doing any favors. He got used to the routine—accepted that real friends weren’t in his cards, and that there was probably no pack waiting for him. A true lone wolf.

And he would’ve lived his entire life that way if his last opponent wasn’t such a sore loser. Well, specifically, if his sponsor wasn’t such a sore loser. He still flinches at the memory of being chased down those alleys, hearing gunshots followed by car alarms and shattering glass. It was ten on one, with half of them being wolves he’d defeated in the ring—all working to get their sponsor his money back.

He’d barely managed to escape, gripping where a bullet wound grazed his bloody leg, as he ran without looking back. He only stopped running when the adrenaline couldn’t keep him going any longer, finding himself lost in a neighboring town when his knees finally gave in.

That’s the first time he met Jimin and Taehyung, fingers interlocked and lost in each other’s company. They would’ve missed him if the streetlamp had fully gone out, but thankfully, the little flicker in the night was enough for Jimin’s eyes to meet that of the injured wolf.

If he wasn’t in searing pain, he would’ve felt the pull of the pack bond right when the other two did. But he couldn’t feel anything other than where the bullet ever-so-slightly missed, causing him to kick and scream the entire time the wolves tried to help.

“Relax, please relax. We need to stop the bleeding. What’s your name?”

“Get the fuck away from me. I swear to God I’ll break your bones if you keep touching me.”

Saying he was difficult is an understatement, but the two managed to pin him down just long enough to give emergency first aid.

That was the beginning of the long and messy road to adjusting Jungkook to the pack, navigating his hot temper and short fuse as the rest assured him the pull wasn’t temporary—that this pack, this family, would embrace him with enough love and tenderness to make up for all the years he’d been alone.

To you, to everyone outside, this Jungkook might seem difficult…but only he and his pack know just how gentle he is compared to his old self.

But the idea of this not being enough—of having to compete with the docile imitation of himself that the hormones made him—it was terrifying.

You said you wanted to be friends, but could anyone not bound by a pack bond truly accept Jungkook for the way he is? When there’s really nothing in it for them?

That’s never happened before.

____

A/N: It's good to be back!!!

Permanent Taglist: @skyys-universee @morelovefortn @seagulljk @shadowyjellyfishfest @m4gg13-g @wittyreader

Series Taglist [CLOSED]: @welcometomyworld13 @kalala22 @fxirytaetae @btsfluffsworld @belikejk @shycreationdreamland @danielle143 @singukieee @blackrockshooter780 @g-b-artist @i-have-no-life-charlie @sopemee @no-regrets-just-confusion @acciocriativity @ldysmfrst @amara-mars @caelumwrites @estrellaburnxd @borahaetelevision @on-1ce @fuckthinking @jaiele

#bts hybrid au #bts hybrid x reader #bts ot7 poly #ot7 x reader #bts angst #bts smut #bts fluff #hurt/comfort

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daechwitatamic · 3 months

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Of Ruin: Chapter 8 || KTH

(banner by @itaeewon)

Of Ruin (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni Genre: vampire!au magic!au royalty!au, s2l, slow burn, eventual smut, angst and fluff

Summary: Taehyung of House Rune, Prince of Infracticus has been cursed. You’re the human world’s leading curse-breaker. It should be simple. But unraveling the curse becomes the least of your problems in the face of a world on the brink of civil war… and the love you start to feel for the prince.

A/N: Thank you endlessly to @sailoryooons for betaing!!! 💕

Section Warnings: injury and blood, angst wc: 4.8k

When you’d studied casting - in the framework of counter-curses, never much else - you’d learned like a human. You’d learned the methodology of pulling magic from the air around you, like one might pull water from a cloud. You never knew there was magic inside you, rising up to meet the rest. You never knew that you might possess something of your own, stronger and more readily available than what the world around you could offer.

Now, as you stand in your tiny bedroom in the palace practicing the same deflective spell over and over again, you wonder how you could possibly have been so oblivious. The magic that races through your system nearly makes you high.

You know that you should stop and sleep; you know that you need to rest, to recover. But every time you consider putting the book away, turning off the lamp, and laying in the dark, your heart begins to race again.

And then, instead of doing any of those things, you run the spell again. You imagine the Infracti who’d attacked you, and you push back with all your might.

You run the spell so many times that it becomes muscle memory - your tongue repeating mindless syllables, your hands pushing and pulling magic like you’re conducting the ocean tide. You’re barely thinking about what you’re doing. Your mind goes blank, a low buzzing like static settling at the base of your skull.

Say the words, do the motion. Knock down anything that comes close. Say the words, push the magic. Say the words, push the magic. Get them away, keep them away, get them away away away -

Your wardrobe explodes noisily, wooden splinters flying through the room followed by your shirts and slacks. You scream and drop to the floor, covering your head, just as one of your shoes crosses the room and takes out your lamp, leaving you in the darkness you’d been avoiding. You shake on the floor, still covering your head even though the danger has passed.

You hear Namjoon shout your name before he throws your door open, flooding your room with light from the corridor.

“What happened?” he asks, trying and failing to turn the light on with the switch on the wall. The lamp lies on the ground, shattered. You can see it because you’re still at eye-level with the floor.

Namjoon must spot you, cowering, and makes his way towards you.

“Careful,” you warn him, finally uncovering your head and trying to sit up. Your arms both sting, and you bet you have chunks of wardrobe in them, like giant splinters. Lovely. You don’t even want to look. “There’s pieces everywhere.” You’re not sure if you mean the wooden splinters or the shattered lamp. You feel delirious.

Namjoon freezes midstep, one foot raised in the air.

Satuel appears behind him and seems to understand what happened. She waves her hand and you watch as the wooden pieces of the wardrobe and the ceramic pieces of the lamp slide along the floor to a common spot, making a nice, neat little pile of debris.

“Come,” she says. “Out here where I can see you.”

Out in the common room, she looks you over, tutting when she looks at your arms. Your heart begins to slam in your chest as she examines you; you’re very aware, suddenly, that you must be bleeding.

Namjoon and Satuel look at each other, having a silent conversation that you are very much not a part of.

“Go back to bed,” she tells Namjoon, who is hovering a few feet away, unsure how to help. “I’ll take care of her.”

He does as he’s told, a bit robotically, and you’re sure he was half-asleep for the whole encounter. He might wake up in the morning and think he dreamed it.

Satuel procures a pair of tweezers - from where, you aren’t sure - and guides you to sit at the small table where you eat. She gingerly takes one of your arms and bends it so she can see better as she starts to work.

“Care to tell me what happened?” she asks evenly, her focused gaze only on what her hands are doing.

“Was practicing a defense spell,” you mutter. Your eyes suddenly feel heavy. “Must have messed up. My wardrobe exploded. It broke the lamp.”

“You should have been sleeping,” she remarks, putting down the arm she was working on and motioning for you to hand her the other.

You don’t answer this. You don’t want to admit that you were too scared. You don’t want to look weak and frightened. You don’t want to offend her by admitting you’re afraid of her kind. You don’t want to give her the satisfaction of knowing her kind can frighten you. These feelings contradict each other, yet somehow both manage to be true.

She seems to know anyway. She finishes working on your second arm and places it on the table, sitting back and looking at you with wet, black eyes. Your stomach turns, and the hairs on your arms raise.

You hide them under the table.

“Prince Taehyung can heal those when he… wakes,” she says. It occurs to you, as she stumbles over this wording, that at this moment Prince Taehyung is simply a monster. If you needed him, now, he would be no help at all. In fact, in his current state - wherever they have him tucked away - he’s the most dangerous one here.

Everyone else would need to use discretion if they fucked with you. Under the curse, Prince Taehyung would have no such qualms.

“Okay,” you say quietly. “Thank you.”

She continues to watch you, then cocks her head slightly. “There is a tea I could bring,” she says. “It would calm your nerves. It would likely help you sleep. I’ll bring some.”

You want to object; you don’t know what it’s made of, what the effect will be. You want to stay clear-headed. You want to stay awake. You never want to close your eyes again.

But this is the first kindness Satuel has shown you. This is the most she has spoken to you at length. You don’t want to reject her, lest she never try again.

“Thank you,” you nod. “I’ll try it.”

Still, when she brings you a steaming mug, you sit on the couch in the main room and hold it between your hands. You inhale the steam deeply, noting what you can recognize: chamomile, definitely. Perhaps lavender. Something else that you can’t name.

You look up at her, nervous. “Will I be able to wake when Prince Taehyung is ready for the ritual?” you ask. “Or will I be -?”

Drugged, is what you want to say. You don’t.

She smiles, and it almost looks warm. “You’ll feel normal,” she assures you. “It won’t make you groggy.”

You nod in thanks and sip at it. When you’ve finished, you set the mug on the low table, and you bring the heaviest blanket from your bed back to the couch. You curl up in a ball, the blanket over your head, and breathe slowly, waiting for sleep.

You leave every light in the room on.

—

It is not Satuel who wakes you, but Namjoon, gently shaking your shoulder and pulling the blanket just enough that your eyes peek out. You squint up at him, the light almost painful in the wake of your dark little blanket cave.

“Sorry,” he says, grimacing. “I wanted to let you sleep more, but the prince has asked for us.”

You groan, closing your eyes again. You feel awful - your body aches, your head is pounding, and your arms throb in the places where Satuel had removed wooden splinters sometime early this morning.

Still, after a moment of wallowing, you push yourself to rise. “Do I have time to shower?” you ask, the blanket over your shoulders like a thick, winter cape.

Namjoon glances at the clock. “Maybe, like… a fast one?”

You do your best to hurry, though the water stings the open cuts you sport, which makes it tricky as you hop in and out of the water, hissing and wincing. When you’re ready, both Dansoo and Satuel lead you and Namjoon through the palace, up the steps to Prince Taehyung’s wing.

You’re greeted in the front room not by the beautiful, dark haired Infracti, but by a breakfast spread.

“Prince Taehyung will be with you in a moment,” one of his staff tells you. “Please help yourselves to breakfast.”

“God, coffee,” you manage, making a beeline for the table. Namjoon follows, and when Prince Taehyung comes through the door he finds the two of you sitting on opposite ends of the couch, each clutching a mug of dark liquid like they tether you to life.

He nods in greeting as he passes Namjoon, but slows his stride to pause by you. You look at him guiltily, already knowing where this is going.

“I heard there was an incident,” he says, voice low.

You shake your head as Namjoon nods. Traitor.

“Hardly,” you say. “I was practicing magic. I made a mistake. There was… uh, a problem.”

“An incident,” he repeats. Then, he sighs like he just doesn’t know what to do with you. “Can I heal you?”

You lower your gaze and hold up your arms.

He sighs again as he surveys the damage. Then, gently, he takes one arm and begins to run his spare hand over the cuts, and you feel the tingling sensation that lets you know the healing is working.

You swallow down how nice it feels to have his hands on you. It’s not productive, you remind yourself. Not only unprofessional, but unrealistic, too. Doubly foolish.

He’s dangerous, too. He’s one of them, too.

Triply foolish.

“I’d like you to stay out of trouble for maybe a day,” he scolds under his breath, barely audible.

“I’m finding that harder here than I ever did in the real - I mean, back home,” you joke.

The real world, you’d almost said. Like this one isn’t real, but truly just a dream you can’t seem to wake from.

It does feel that way.

If Prince Taehyung notices, he has the grace to ignore it.

He hovers as you work uneasily on your coffee, and then asks, “So, are we trying the ritual today?”

“That’s the plan,” you answer, and Namjoon shoots you a look like you aren’t being polite enough. But you feel like you and the prince have gotten, maybe, a little friendly on your visits to the stable, enough to give you the leeway to speak casually.

At any rate, he doesn’t object to your tone, instead leaning his arms on the back of the couch and asking, “Do you need anything for it?”

“Actually, yes,” you say, sitting up straighter. Now that the caffeine’s hit your system, you’re feeling more human - but definitely still sore from top to bottom. “Could you get us a metronome?”

“A metronome?” he parrots, brows furrowing.

“You know,” you say, flapping a hand. “The thing for music that keeps the beat for you? I saw your piano room, I’m sure you have one here somewhere.”

A smile grows on his face. “You saw my piano room?”

You don’t answer this, feeling your face flush; you’d found the piano room on the night you’d gone wandering, when Prince Taehyung had literally saved your life the first time.

Namjoon watches this exchange with raised brows, but says nothing. You try to ignore the look on his face.

Prince Taehyung’s smile grows, and he shakes his head a little. He looks like he wants to say something but thinks better of it. He controls himself, mouth twitching back into something more neutral, and then he says, “Yes, I’ll send for it. Anything else?”

You consider this. “Somewhere quiet to work? We need a bit of space, and your staff can’t come too close or their energy will mix into the reading.”

He nods absently, already moving to ask one of his staff to fetch the metronome. “Don’t worry about that,” he says over his shoulder. “I’ve already thought of the perfect place. Come on, I’ll show you.”

—

Taehyung picked his greenhouse for the ritual. It’s spacious, far from his main quarters, quiet… and soothing, with several water features that bubble quietly. He thinks, though it’s just projecture, that this will be good for rituals or magic.

It’s calm and safe, and Taehyung thinks that’s important.

The other curse-breaker, the man, stays by the door, making sure none of Taehyung’s staff accidentally enter, and keeping a safe distance himself.

You sit cross-legged on the ground, facing each other. Taehyung watches you carefully, listens - from his place opposite you - to your pulse beat through your body, quickened with nerves and excitement. He feels your magical signature like a caress, and it astounds him that you can’t feel it, can’t feel the magic brimming at your fingertips, ready to be directed.

“This is supposed to be different than before,” you remind him. “I’m only going in with the intention to look.”

He nods. He hears what you’re telling him - it shouldn’t hurt this time, shouldn’t drain him, shouldn’t feel like his insides are being funneled backwards through his body.

Before the curse had tried to kick you out - before the pain had started - having your magic toy around with his… well, it hadn’t been unpleasant at all. It had felt good, if he was being honest. Like something was clicking into place, as it was meant to.

“You’re going to feel me poking around, just like before,” you repeat his earlier words. “You’ll also likely feel things that… belong to me.”

He feels his brow furrow. “What does that mean?”

You twist your mouth and eye the ceiling. Taehyung waits, lets you decide how to explain it.

“It’s like…” you say slowly, still thinking as you talk, “we both open up and let our magic through. So the same as I can steer my magic to take a look at the curse, you could steer yours to investigate mine. It’s… available.

“If that happens,” you continue explaining, clearly intending to do a better job looping him into the whole process this time, “you might, without meaning to, interact with it. You might feel emotions that belong to me - that’s most likely.”

“You’ve done this before?” Taehyung asks, though he knows the answer.

“Once,” you nod. “A long time ago, though.”

“What happened that time?” He leans back on flattened palms, putting a little more space between you.

“It went well,” you say, something energized coming over you. Like you perk up when you talk about your work, your successes. “I was breaking the curse for this woman - she was like, so old -”

“Older than me?” Taehyung asks, failing to hold back a teasing smile.

You laugh. Taehyung likes the sound of it. “Old for a human, okay? Anyway, we did the ritual and I was looking around at her curse and I could feel her magic kind of… pressing back? Not in a bad way, though, just… presence. And when we finished and ended it, she told me something…” You break off the story, letting out a laugh that’s maybe a bit bitter - Taehyung can’t tell. “She told me some things about myself, about what I was feeling, things I had gone through recently at that time - like while she was in there she just got a little film of my life, or something.”

“That sounds invasive,” Taehyung murmurs.

You shrug. “I knew what I was agreeing to. It was sweet, and kind of funny. And I cracked her curse.” The pride in your voice is evident.

“So,” Taehyung asks, back to playful, “what film am I scheduled to see today?”

You laugh again, and his smile widens. “Books, probably,” you tell him. “Hours and hours and hours of books.”

Taehyung waits patiently as you get ready. He places his hands palm-up on his knees, and you place yours palm-up on top of his, resting lightly. They’re small, he notices for the first time, fitting neatly inside his own.

You lift one hand and reach to set the metronome at a slow pace. It’s so slow, in fact, that Taehyung thinks for a moment that it must be broken.

“This is to pace our breathing,” you tell him. “Inhale and exhale between the beats. We’re going to do that first - just breathe in time, together.”

“I don’t need to do anything else?” he clarifies. He wants this to go well, he wants this to work.

He wants it to be done and over so you can look at him and tell him, I know exactly what’s missing, we’ll have the curse ended before midnight tonight. He wants you to tell him, it’s over - the curse is gone.

“I’ll tell you,” you assure him, your voice becoming almost melodic as you step into your role as a magic-wielder. “For now, breathe. We’re inhaling - ready?”

He does as he’s told - inhales until he hears the device’s click, then begins a slow exhale. Click. Inhale - click. Exhale - your own breath mingling with the gurgling body of water behind you is the only other sound in the room. Click. Inhale.

“Good,” you say on the exhale. “You keep that rhythm - that’s your most important job.”

He nods, concentrating on the rhythm, the clicks, his breath in and out.

“Next job,” you murmur. “Keep your eyes on my eyes. Don’t look away.”

He lifts his gaze to meet yours, and you hold him there, steady, as you breathe together in time. Your eyes dance as they take his in, and he thinks he can feel you already - your magic starting to touch its fingers to his, tentative. He’s not sure he’s ready for when your magic opens for him, when he’ll be able to press against it and feel what you’re feeling, not just see it reflected in your eyes.

“Good,” you say finally, lips barely moving. “Don’t do anything but what you’re doing right now. I’m going to start the incantations.”

You do, quietly, your voice calm and even. The chanting is musical, almost like you’re singing to him. Taehyung can feel everything as it happens - so strongly that it almost startles him out of his breathing, almost makes him lose focus and tear his gaze away from your eyes.

As if you can sense him faltering, you press the backs of your hands more firmly into his palms, silently reminding him of his only tasks.

He focuses, but he can still feel it - your magic rising up, strengthening, beginning to expand. He can feel it when it touches his, cautiously, like letting a dog sniff your hand before you stroke its head. It’s somewhere between a tingle and a warmth, your magic, and it slips seamlessly into his, filling up every empty space. Like water, like air, like every element he needs to keep existing.

It feels good - just as it had last time your magics had mingled, and this on its own is distracting.

Focus. Inhale. Click. Exhale. Click.

Your magic begins to explore - he can feel that, too. He can feel it as it lifts and examines, feel it as it prods and dives within him. He could lose himself in this - in the way the controlled breathing lulls him into calm, into the warm and pleasant sensation of having his magic matched and complemented, into the cool press of your hands into his.

He could - but he doesn’t want to. You’d said that he could - “without meaning to” - explore your side. You were forgetting: he may not have done this ritual before, but he is Taehyung of Rune. No one has better magical control than his family. It’s in his blood, just like yours, and he can steer his magic just as well.

He presses in, watching your face for any indication that you recognize the feeling. There’s none; your eyes are unfocused, muscles slack except for your mouth, which repeats the incantation hollowly, over and over. Emboldened, he presses further.

The memories come without context in quick-moving bursts; they’re hard to follow. Some are still images, some play like a video clip on fast-forward, others are just dark but sound rings through Taehyung’s head, foreign and jolting. Each comes with a feeling - or more than one - that Taehyung feels so deeply they must be his own.

The faces of humans who might be your family, and the feelings of both love and disappointment.

Books, as promised, and feelings of comfort, of pride.

Cities, waterways, more faces, more books, an old man, books again, another city, another pile of books -

Loneliness. Loneliness stitched into all of them.

Images begin to ping in Taehyung’s mind as familiar -

Namjoon’s sharp eyes, and the feeling of gratitude.

The throne room of the palace, his parents, the image of Infracti eyes - fear, fear so engulfing that Taehyung’s fingers flex against yours instinctively, and he fights to keep exhaling until he hears the click somewhere in the back of his mind.

His own face, his own form approaching from the end of a hallway. Taehyung is swept with surprise to feel excitement attached to his image, something tinged with affection, and danger, and thrill, and something that Taehyung can’t - or won’t - put a name to.

Guilty, he pulls back, letting his magic simply simmer along with yours instead of steering it into your consciousness.

He listens to the clicks, focuses on his breathing. Feels a stupid little smile sneak across his face, feels relief that your eyes are too unfocused to clock it. Feels a swell of affection for you, the human - no, witch - sent here to fix him. Feels a twin swell of protectiveness as his mind replays your fear.

He’ll do better, he promises himself. He’ll do better at staying with you, at keeping everyone else away.

He becomes aware that he no longer hears you chanting and watches your eyes carefully for the moment you come out of the trance.

You come back to yourself with a gasp, and Taehyung is startled to find you gaping at him, wide-eyed, struggling to get a word out.

“What?” he asks, stomach sinking. “What?”

You look around frantically like you’re trying to place yourself. “Maiesti,” you finally whisper, horrified, wild eyes coming back to find his. “I think someone tried to kill you.”

—

Prince Taehyung leads you - at a fast clip - to a small room that reminds you of a meeting room that an office building might have.

As you walk, you fill in Namjoon, talking almost faster than you can think.

“One of the threads,” you say breathlessly, “was definitely, absolutely intended for ending life.”

Namjoon stops walking; Prince Taehyung does not, carrying forward, causing you and Namjoon to scurry to catch him.

“You’re sure?” Namjoon asks.

You look at him evenly. “Entirely.”

“So, I was right,” he says quietly. “Remember? When I said I thought death magic might be involved?”

“I remember.”

He shakes his head. “I think my grandfather knew, or at least suspected.”

You look at him quizzically. “What do you mean?”

“That’s why he called me. I’ve been wondering. He had to suspect there would be an element of death magic - that’s my area of study. He knew you’d need me for that.”

You huff. “If he thought this was a murder attempt, that would have been nice to know ahead of time.”

Prince Taehyung acts like he hears none of this, simply leads you into the meeting room and asks a guard to fetch his parents.

The three of you wait in tense silence. You don’t know about the men, but your mind is racing with possibilities - the who, the why.

The Queen looks alarmed when she enters, and while the King doesn’t look as frantic, there’s definitely an air of concern.

“Thank you for coming,” you say, greeting them respectfully. “We wanted to speak to you right away. The Prince and I completed a ritual this morning -”

“You what?” The Queen asks sharply, but she seems to be directing this at her son, who ignores her with the polish of someone who has ignored their mother for over five hundred years. He motions for you to continue.

You continue again, a little shakily. “We completed a ritual whose purpose was to feel out more of the curse, identify some threads of intention that we missed before.”

“Was it successful?” the King asks.

“It was,” you say carefully, “but I felt you should know about a major thread that I uncovered.”

Everyone looks at you, waiting - those who already know what you found, and those who are about to hear for the first time.

You take a breath and lay your palms flat on the table. “I found a thread whose intention was death.”

“How sure are you?” the Queen demands, standing up straighter, her brows furrowed.

“There’s no doubt,” you say calmly. “That’s what it was. Whoever cast this curse… they included the intention to kill Prince Taehyung.”

The King shouts someone’s name and an Infracti hurries into the room, leaning down to listen to the King’s request. He leaves again, and the King addresses the table.

“My cabinet members are being summoned,” he says. “We’ll address this at once.”

“Why would they bother with all the other threads,” the Queen asks, her eyes on you, “if they just wanted to kill him?”

“I’m not sure,” you admit. “It doesn’t make sense to me, either - but the intention was there.”

“I can speak to that,” Namjoon says calmly. The Queen snaps her attention to him. “Death magic is my specialty. A curse like that - just to end a life - it can’t be done. Magic… as I’m sure you know, magic is life. Magic wants life. It will not end a life unless it is twisted just right. It’s likely that whoever cast this curse had to… add padding to sneak this piece in. Perhaps they hoped that if they failed - which clearly, they did - then at least the prince would suffer.”

“Which he is,” you add, unhelpfully.

“The Scores must be behind this,” the Queen says.

“There’s nothing that particularly indicates them,” the King points out.

“Except seven thousand years of war,” she shoots back. “Who else? Who else would benefit from killing our son?”

The King rubs at his temples. “I want to know where their little venefici was the night the curse began,” he muses. At that word, you feel blood rush to your face. You expect Namjoon to pat your arm, but it’s the prince who meets your gaze across the table, his face open and apologetic.

“Father,” he murmurs reproachfully, the first time he’s spoken since you all gathered.

You wonder what he thinks about all this.

You wonder if he’s frightened.

The King follows his gaze and frowns. “No disrespect intended,” he says, though his tone indicates that he’s displeased at being corrected. “We appreciate your skill here. But I need to find who cast on my son, and bring them to justice.”

“And cure him,” you say. This time, Namjoon does knock into your arm, trying to shut you up.

The King narrows his eyes at you but doesn’t address your insolence.

“And what about you?” The Queen asks, directing her attention at you and Namjoon. You try not to squirm. “What does this discovery mean for the counter-curse?”

You exchange a look with Namjoon, and you give him a nod. Death magic is his forte, not yours.

“I’m afraid it’s a bit of a good-news-bad-news situation,” he says, inclining his head respectfully. “The good news is we identified that element of the curse so we are able to begin finding how to counter it. The bad news… well… the thread of intention called for loss of life. In countering that… only life can pay for life.”

Prince Taehyung’s head snaps up. “Will someone have to die?” he asks, horrified, eye wide.

“Not necessarily,” you hurry to soothe him. “It may take Namjoon and I some time, but I’m confident we can find a way that isn’t so… drastic.”

“You’re dismissed, then,” the Queen says, her voice still even and cold. “I don’t want you wasting a single minute until you have something worth trying.”

You nod in understanding and move to leave. Satuel and Dansoo are waiting in the corridor, ready to walk you and Namjoon back to your quarters. You glance over your shoulder as you go, trying to get one last look at Prince Taehyung.

To your surprise, you find him standing still, watching you walk away. From this distance, he looks more like you expected him to look the first time you’d met him - somehow both haunting and haunted.

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thank you for reading! chapter 9 coming next friday!

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effortandmore · 11 months

Text

tuesday moon | knj (18+)

summary: being “just friends” with kim namjoon sucks

pairing: namjoon x f!reader

rating: explicit (18+ please)

genre: fluff, smut

au: university, co-workers to lovers to friends to lovers again (they're oblivious)

warnings: it's mostly fluff i think. they're oblivious. smut: minors should not be interacting/reading, namjoon has a big dick, a lil praise kink, oral sex (f!receiving), penetrative sex, the usual suspects i think. drinking (but not before they sleep together), tae is into new age jazz... and they were roommates!

word count: 7.7k

a/n: so... i had this dream a couple months ago and couldn't get it out of my head, so here you go. thanks, sleep brain. the title is from a neutral milk hotel song (but tbh the '23 album isn't great). thank you to @ugh-yoongi and @the-boy-meets-evil for reading this over. and then for doing it again when i couldn't even find the mistake you told me was there 🙃

read on ao3

You’ve learned a lot in university—which given how much money you’ve spent to be there is a relief. But amongst business classes and writing workshops and statistics, the most important knowledge you’ve gained is that of small things.

Of small things and how they can change your life in unbelievably big ways.

Kim Namjoon isn’t exactly small. But the events that put him right in the middle of your life are. The first day you meet him is a Tuesday. Tuesdays have always been for non-events: for meetings and your least favorite classes… For snagging a coveted dryer on the third floor of the dorm building because Jeongguk saves it for you when he’s finished with his seemingly endless laundry. Tuesdays are for your first real uni friend, Taehyung, to show up to the laundry room unannounced and make you listen to weird new-age jazz on his phone that you hate, but love how much he loves it.

And then your work-study starts. A job in the library is supposed to be easy, has better hours than a lot of the jobs that are available, and pretty much only requires you to understand the Dewey decimal system so you can reshelve things quickly. You can count and read, and those seem to be the only things the head librarian cares about. Cake.

Your first training day is a Tuesday. It’s a rainy afternoon, and in one of the conference rooms in the back of the law floor are you and three other new employees. Right away, it seems like Yoongi, Hoseok, and Namjoon are already friends. They joke and whisper throughout the orientation videos and absolutely make you feel like a fourth wheel. At your first break, Hoseok extends the invitation for you to sit with them when he notices you still sitting by yourself in the back of the room, and it's then that you learn they for sure already knew each other—music majors and all in the same class even though Yoongi is a little older than the other two. They signed up for all the same work-study assignments hoping they’d be placed together, hoping they could have a chance to work on music during slow times at the slowest work-study assignments. Namjoon, though, who has been quiet the whole time, finally speaks up at this.

“Well, I also like books,” he says softly, one side of his mouth turned up in a grin. “So, I guess I had an ulterior motive.”

“Of course you did, Namjoonie,” Hoseok replies.

Yoongi turns to you, explaining, “Namjoon’s a double major. Smartest guy we know. Literature and music.”

You talk more with them after the ice is broken—Yoongi’s a double major, too, math and music. Hoseok raps and does street dancing in his free time, and around the three of them, you feel like you’re woefully underachieving just at life in general.

“What about you?” Namjoon prompts after you get some background on all of them.

“Ah… nothing impressive. Economics major. Just what my parents wanted, you know. But I like books, too. I volunteer at the public library already, but it doesn’t exactly help with tuition.”

“You volunteer?” Namjoon repeats, looking surprised.

“Oh, yeah… It’s no big deal. I just read books to kids sometimes.”

“That’s awesome,” he says, and the look on his face tells you he might actually mean it. Next to him, Yoongi snickers and Hoseok smiles brightly at you.

“Namjoonie here has wanted to volunteer doing park clean up for a while, but Yoongi and I are always dragging him to the studio on the weekends, so he doesn’t have time.”

Namjoon shrugs. “It would be nice to feel like I’m helping, I think.”

“It is,” you agree, sharing a look with him across the table. “The purpose of life is to be useful…” You mumble the quote under your breath, assuming they wouldn’t know what you meant anyway.

“Emerson?” Namjoon asks.

“Oh! Uh… yeah, I mean… That’s what people think, but probably not. It’s most likely from a speech someone else gave when they gave Emerson an award, but most people think it’s him—” you cut yourself off when you notice Namjoon’s eyes gone wide.

“Self Reliance is one of my favorites,” he says, leaning forward, excitement playing in his voice.

“Same! No one ever knows what I’m talking about, but ‘Nothing at last is sacred but the integrity of one’s own mind’ is maybe my whole life philosophy,” you ramble, just happy that someone might finally know what you’re talking about. No one in your economics classes ever shows any interest in philosophy, anyway. Your roommate calls you a nerd every time you bring stuff like this up, and Jeongguk just stares at you with big eyes like he wants to drink every word you're saying but doesn’t understand a drop of it. But Namjoon actually looks… interested in what you’re saying. More than interested, even.

Yoongi elbows Hoseok and smirks. “Namjoon’s in trouble,” he says.

But before you can ask what that means, the head librarian interrupts to tell you it’s time to get back to training. You have to partner up for training to use the library’s reservation and shelving programs, and Namjoon comes right up to you, grinning shyly, and asks if you want to be his partner while his friends whisper on the other side of the room. You know immediately how this is going to go. Or you think you do, anyway.

And you’re right. By the end of the first week of your work study, you’re in Kim Namjoon’s bed.

It’s just like it sounds.

You’re naked, legs bent at the knees and open with his head between them. You noticed his brain first, but it only took that first afternoon to realize that not only was he smart, but stupid hot and kind and sort of funny in the sarcastic way you like, and he seemed to like something about you, too.

On Saturday, you work a slow shift together, both of you using most of the time to catch up on homework, and when it’s over, he asks if you want to come back to his place and keep studying. You agree quickly, but as soon as you get there, you realize you’re both on the same page about being more interested in studying each other than your class work. One thing leads to another, and here you are, moaning into your own palm as he flicks his tongue over your clit in a steady rhythm.

“Namjoon, I–” You’re pathetic, you think, gasping and barely able to make words come out of your mouth, but fuck if he’s not good at this. Better than you’d thought he would be, actually. He came across as a little on the shy side during work, like he might be one of those guys who needs you to tell him where the clit is. Eager to please, but not quite sure how to go about it. Willing to take direction.

He is not that.

“Gonna come, baby? You like my tongue that much?” Namjoon lifts his head to ask, and his lips are slick with you and his voice is deep and his fingers just don’t stop moving… It's so much.

“Yeah, so close…”

At that, Namjoon smirks and ducks his head back down to finish the job. He makes quick work of you, sucking on your clit and twisting one of your nipples with his free hand. The other has two fingers fucking into you in just the right way, just shallow enough to hit your g-spot each time he pushes in.

The orgasm builds fast, pressure from the inside, pressure from the outside… Everything feels so, so good, and you try to tell him so, but all you can do is whimper through it, clenching your thighs around his ears when you come on his tongue and he tries (bless him) to keep licking your core as your knees shake.

“Fuck,” you say on an exhale, arm tossed over your own forehead.

“I’m down,” he teases.

You’re about to say something sarcastic back, but when you lift your arm and look down at him, you lose that train of thought. He looks fucking incredible: flushed, a little sweaty, chin shiny with your orgasm and he’s grinning with those stupid dimples out… How could you not give him everything he wants? Maybe it’s the orgasm talking, the sweet rush of dopamine affecting you when you say, “I want that. Fuck me…” And for emphasis, when he stares at you a little stunned, you add, “Please, Namjoon?”

He only nods, enthusiastically and a little dopey with it, a little like the boy you saw in the library. But when his cock is out—big… like, really big. Why even have a cock that large, really? What’s even the point of that?—he’s smirking and appropriately (you hope) confident again.

“That is…” you look down and make a vague gesture in the direction of his dick, which makes him look down, too.

He shies almost instantly. “Yeah, it’s okay if it’s too much or whatever…”

“No! That’s not what I meant. I just… You look good.” You scoot up so you can have level eye contact. “Want you to fuck me. I can handle it, promise. I want to.”

Namjoon swallows, visibly nervous, but agrees anyway.

You knew it would be fine. Any partner who makes sure to tell you you’re beautiful, who makes sure you come first, who pays attention to your body the way he has for the last couple hours is probably going to keep doing that, you decide. And he does. He’s careful, even though you think it might actually be killing him a little to not move once he’s over halfway inside you. He checks in with you, makes sure the consent is still there, and then when you ask him to “actually fuck me, Namjoon… want your cock… all of you,” he does. And he delivers.

You’re essentially sitting in his lap, his palms spread on your hips as he moves you on his cock and it is… Well, it’s unequivocally the best anyone’s ever fucked you. His lips are on your neck, your breasts, the swell underneath them where they meet your ribcage… He keeps talking to you in his raspy whisper, making sure you feel okay, telling you how good you feel to him. There are times when he gets a little porny, telling you how tight you are (you’re sure a cock that big hasn’t seen anything not tight), and then he says, half out of breath, “Knew you would be a good girl. Knew it from the first time I saw you.” And you didn’t even know you wanted to be a ‘good girl,’ but suddenly you very much do.

Before he comes, he makes sure you do again, too. His thumb finds your clit and his lips are hot against your ear, whispering filth when you tighten around his cock and shudder in his lap. He’s not far behind you, pulling your hips down when he thrusts into you a little harder, sweat beading on his forehead with the effort. He’s quiet when he comes, just a low moan of your name as he stills under you.

After, it’s the small things he does that you like. It’s nice that he doesn’t try and move right away, just runs his hands up and down your back—soothing, almost. The closeness is nice, his head resting against your collarbone while you stroke your fingers through his hair. It feels intimate, more than a first time or a one night stand with your coworker should. But neither of you make a move to change that, so maybe it’s alright.

For now.

You haven’t exactly been the most social university student, but you know how these things are supposed to go. You clean up, you get dressed, you make awkward small talk about your classes or your work study and then you go your separate ways. You go back to your apartment and you don’t talk about what happened. He might look at you like he knows what’s underneath your hoodie next time you see him, but you know it won’t happen again. That’s not how it works. Not for you, anyway.

Kim Namjoon is a good guy, that you’re sure of. He’s a hard worker, he’s smart, he has lots of friends and hobbies and between that and school and work, you know there’s no way he’s looking for a relationship, and you also know he’s going to do his best to let you down easy if he thinks that’s what you’re after.

But, he’s your friend. And your co-worker, and the sex was great, so you want to at least spare him the effort of all that. So, when he gets up to dispose of the condom and find a washcloth, you get dressed quietly, pack your textbooks, and do your best to look mostly put together by the time he comes back.

“So,” you start as he returns to his room, “that was great… Really great, Namjoonie. Thank you.”

He looks… confused. “You’re thanking me for sex?”

“I uh… yes?”

Namjoon gives you a dimpled smile with an eyebrow raised, clearly amused. “Okay… Well, you’re welcome, then. And thank you.” He gives you a teasing bow, and with it, you feel a little relief. Because he’s obviously ready to move forward and this can just be a fun thing that happened and you don’t have to make him worry about letting you down, and you don’t have to worry about how much you fucking like him already. You can just be friends.

The problem, you realize quickly, is that being “just friends” with Kim Namjoon sucks.

It’s like sending your poor, delusional heart through a cheese grater with each of your work-study shifts. It’s swallowing down every dream of happiness when you have to sit next to him at a party and watch him nod along in agreement as Hoseok tells him how hot the new guy in his dance class is. (The guy is hot, with at least a 6-pack, big, pouty lips, and biceps like cannons. So, even you have to agree they have a point.)

Okay, that’s probably dramatic. Incredibly dramatic according to Taehyung and Jeongguk. Which, honestly, says a lot coming from them.

So, you do your best to forget your crush and just be cool about everything. You both make a frankly commendable effort to never talk about what happened between you, and after a few weeks, things don’t feel quite so weird. Namjoon’s probably relieved you never mentioned it again, didn’t expect him to be your boyfriend or anything.

You think you’ve done well.

At one party, halfway through the semester, you meet Namjoon’s friend, Seokjin. He’s quiet at first, polite with a big smile and a nervous laugh. He sticks close to Yoongi and Namjoon, and it doesn’t take long before he’s being shuttled across the large backyard in your direction.

“Hi,” he says simply. “I’ve heard a lot about you.”

“Oh! That’s good… I think?”

“Yah, Namjoonie here—”

“Well, that was great!” Namjoon interjects. “Glad you two finally met. We’re late for something, though. So, bye!” And then he’s pulling Seokjin behind him through the yard in the opposite direction. It’s so weird.

In his protests, you’re pretty sure you hear him say, “You’re ridiculous,” to Namjoon. If you were more sober, you would have recognized it as the first small thing that should have tipped you off.

The second thing happens right before summer break. Your whole group, consisting of your and Namjoon’s friends, are sitting around at lunch discussing everyone’s plans for the summer. Hoseok and Jimin (the hot dancer he wouldn’t shut up about who is now his new boyfriend) are going to a dance clinic on the other side of the country. Jeongguk is going home, promising you he’ll leave you a list of acceptable laundromats in his absence. Seokjin and Taehyung are working—teaching acting classes to teenagers at summer camp.

Yoongi’s got an internship, so he’ll be around, but barely since it’s in the city and your university is a little outside of town. It’s a long subway trip, so he’s got a sublet up there he’s moving into for the summer months.

And then it’s Namjoon’s turn.

“I’m staying. Not on campus, obviously. But I found an apartment and I’m looking for a roommate.” Everyone nods along except Jeongguk, whose eyes dart from Namjoon to you and back several times.

“What about noona?” he finally says, hooking a thumb in your direction. “She’s staying, too.”

“Oh, I don’t think—”

“That’s not a bad idea…”

Namjoon and you look at one another. He’s flushed, and he’s doing that thing he does when he’s nervous where he rubs his throat.

“I’m sure Namjoon has plenty of people in mind already,” you say, trying to give him the out he clearly wants.

“Not exactly,” he mumbles.

“This is perfect!” Seokjin exclaims. “Don’t you think this is perfect, Namjoon?”

You lean over to whisper to Namjoon, “You don’t have to, it’s really alright.” It feels like you’re making him nervous, you can feel his muscles stiffen where you’re touching his arm, and the flush he was sporting is spreading to his neck now.

“Would you even want to?” He asks softly.

You’re not sure, actually. It’s already hard work trying to put your stupid crush out of your mind most days. And now, you only see him a few days a week. Your brain (a logical friend) is telling you that living with him will be terrible for your heart. Your heart isn’t as smart and is pounding faster just thinking about spending more time around your crush. Friend, you correct yourself.

The problem is that only Tae and Jeongguk know about your feelings, and none of them know you and Namjoon have already slept together. So, if you say no, it might be weird. As far as they know, you’re just friends, good friends. Why wouldn’t you want to live with him?

“Yeah,” you reply brightly, swallowing down your nerves, “it’ll be great, Joonie. I can cook and you can help me study for my summer classes.” You’re nodding along as you speak, trying to convince yourself that what you’re saying is true.

“Okay… sure. Roommates,” he says, looking a little stunned.

“Roommates!”

You stick your hand out to shake his. You’re the least sexy person to have ever existed, you decide, as he laughs and shakes your hand.

“It was a terrible idea,” you whine into Taehyung’s lap. “He’s just here… all the time. And sometimes…”

“Yeah?”

“Sometimes he doesn’t wear a shirt!” You slump further into your friend, making what you know are pitiful whining noises into his thighs.

It’s not like you’d go as far as saying moving in with Namjoon for the summer was a mistake. But it wasn’t great. Actually, it was really fucking great, and that was the problem. Or part of the problem anyway.

The apartment is nice—nicer than you’d envisioned when he told you about it. Not too big, but on the corner of the building so you got nice light throughout the day. You each have your own bedroom (thank god) and they aren’t large, but Namjoon gave you the one with the room for a chair by the window, even though you knew he’d been planning to write lyrics there. As promised, you cook for both of you in your small kitchen and Namjoon helps you with your summer classes.

With all of your friends gone or busy, you two don’t see much of them, and it feels like you build your own little world: late nights listening to the records he brings home, eating simple meals by the window and complaining that you don’t have a balcony, getting dragged out on bike rides when the sun falls and it’s cool enough outside, hunched together on the floor of the living room scrolling webtoons and drinking one too many cheap beers, and the worst (best) of all—falling asleep on the couch together before you wake up with a jolt realizing your head is on him and it’s far, far too much to realize his chest is in your face… so you scramble to your room like a coward and don’t fall back asleep, too keyed up.

Seokjin, when you do see him, adds in more and more “old married couple” jokes as the summer goes on. He makes fun of your chore lists on the fridge, cutely decorated with whatever doodle has been occupying Namjoon’s mind that week.

(Jin doesn’t even know that when all the chores are done, you save the little post-it notes, snatching them off the fridge when Namjoon’s not around or not paying attention, and putting them carefully into a little box in your desk drawer with all the other scraps and mementos of your friendship you’ve kept over the almost-year you’ve known him.)

Jin teases you when he lets himself in, late in the mornings, and finds the two of you still asleep, tumbled atop each other on the floor, record-listening session gone too late, the needle still digging into invisible grooves at the center.

It’s not his fault it doesn’t feel like a joke to you, he doesn’t know that you feel like the 45 and all of the jokes and all of Namjoon’s smiles and all of the little notes he leaves and the way he blushes when you come out of the bathroom in your robe like maybe maybe there’s just a chance you’re not the only one still thinking about that one time… that those are the needles, and you’re here, spinning in place while they poke and prod and dig for a melody that just isn’t there.

Namjoon, to his credit, is the very definition of a good friend and roommate. He does all the little things. He brings you breakfast sometimes when he’s been out all night and knows you’ll be waking up shortly after he comes home. He cleans, so that even though he’s got so much stuff (endless records and books and figurines and things he just thought were cute), your apartment never feels dirty, just lived-in and homey and a little cluttered. Buys toothpaste when you forget—before you forget, even. Puts your favorite flavor of soju in the fridge every week even though he hates it.

And it’s not just what he does at home (your home. with him. which you try not to think about because the way the thought makes your heart swell and almost burst is dangerous and confusing, and you hate that you can’t stop thinking about it entirely.) he takes you out, too. It helps that he’s more social than you: gets you outside in the real world between classes and studying. Makes sure you touch grass. Does stupid dances with you to bad music at worse clubs. Buys you hotteok at 2am because he knows you want it even though you won’t admit it so he says both pieces are for him and lets you argue that it’s bad for his heart and you’re willing to take one off his hands just for the sake of his health… because you care for him.

You don’t let yourself think about the way it seems like he flushes and his eyes twinkle a little when you say that. It’s got to be in your imagination.

He doesn’t know that each time he goes out of his way to do something nice for you hurts a little. Doesn’t know that each time he’s a touch too sweet, you wish you’d stayed that one time. Can’t possibly relate to the way you wish that one night turned into a date turned into something more, maybe.

And you know he can’t relate, because he’s started doing this thing while you’ve been living together: talking about someone. Someone that he likes.

It’s devastating and you try so hard not to cry on the nights when it comes up. You succeed in never crying in front of him, but if you drip snot onto your pillow trying to hold back your sobs once you’re alone in your room, he doesn’t have to know.

You don’t know who she is, but you’ve overheard Namjoon on the phone with Yoongi talking about her. She sounds great, if Namjoon’s probably clouded judgment is any indication. He thinks she’s smart and talented, says she sells herself short and he thinks she’s as close to perfect as anyone on the planet. He doesn’t go out without you too often, and you don’t ask where he’s been if he doesn’t offer, but he must be spending time with her because you catch him on a video call with Hoseok saying she can cook and she’s brilliant and she’s everything he’s ever wanted.

She also sounds like she doesn’t know what she’s got, because Namjoon’s convinced she doesn’t like him back and that she’s out of his league—you finally ascertain that the reason he’s been going to the gym more was because one time she said she thought another guy had nice biceps and he knows they were bigger than his.

One time, you come home late, catching Tae at a bar near campus after he’s done with classes and drinking a little too much. You’re not drunk, but you’re in that warm space past sober where everything is a little softer and funnier and Namjoon looks dangerously pretty sitting at his desk with headphones on working on a song.

You plop on his bed, as you do now, and wait for him to notice you’re there. It doesn’t take long.

“Hey,” he says as he pulls off the headphones. He’s giving you the double-dimple smile, which is especially effective when you’re tipsy like this. Throws you more off-kilter than another cocktail would have. “Have fun with Tae?”

“Hmm… yeah.” You lay back on his bed and don’t let yourself worry about your shirt riding up or your hair spilling around you in a haystack. It’s just Namjoon, and you know he doesn’t think about you like that, know he’s already seen you with more skin showing, hair messier.

“Need me to get you some water?”

“No,” you sit up on your elbows, “s’okay. Didn’t drink too much. What’re you working on?”

Namjoon is staring right at you, something indiscernible on his face. He looks almost like he’s in pain or something. “You alright?”

He shakes his head and looks embarrassed. You have no idea why. “Yeah, fine… I’m fine. Just a song, nothing too special.”

“Can I hear it?”

“It’s personal… Kind of silly. It’s not done yet… I’m not sure you’d like it,” he says.

“I like everything you make.” It comes out too honest, you’re not sober enough to hide the tenderness in your voice, to wrap it in something less vulnerable.

There’s no response to that, and you worry you’ve given too much away for a split second before he unplugs his headphones and hits play on the song. And if you thought the sight of him working, bathed in moonlight and neon, was beautiful, this song is truly something else.

It’s lovely—sweeping melody and building building with layers until it crashes all around you, his voice low and quick, persistent with words of love. It’s a love song disguised as wordplay, or maybe the other way around. It’s him in music: smart and beautiful and selfless and breathtaking… You want to keep it, you want it to be yours, you want the words to be about you or for you or just written with you in the back of his mind. It’s too much, it’s so so beautiful, and you know it’s about her. It’s for her. She’s the one who has his attention and who gets his words and it makes you want to crawl under your blankets and never come out like a petulant child.

You’re laying down again, so you don’t know what he’s looking at as you listen. When it ends, you’re asking the question even though you don’t want the answer, even though him saying it will make it too real. “Is it about her?” you whisper.

“Yeah,” he answers, just as quietly. “It’s about her.”

You sit up quick, make sure you’re turned away from him so he can’t see the tears that are beginning to drip down your cheeks.

“It’s pretty,” you say as you head toward the door, hopefully not giving yourself away, not looking back in his direction. “Really pretty. She’s lucky, Namjoonie.”

You don’t see the confusion on his face as your bedroom door closes behind you. You don’t hear him tell you goodnight in a small, concerned voice.

After song-gate, you do your best to put a brave face on and move forward. It’s more for him than you, you have to tell yourself. Because you, your heart, you don’t want to let him go, can’t stand the idea of watching him be happy with someone else. But you, Kim Namjoon’s best friend, you want nothing more than for him to be happy, even if it’s not with you. And it’s hard, but for the most part, you let that version of you win.

You give him broad smiles and you keep not asking where he’s going when he leaves without you. You try really hard not to overhear his calls with Hoseok and Yoongi and when you do, you give him a ridiculous double-thumbs up and tell him to go for it, that she’d be a fool to turn him down. You’re pretty sure you’re the only one who ends up looking foolish in that moment though, even if you really, truly mean it.

One day (of course it’s a Tuesday), you come home from class, and you’re sorting through the mail when you spot a card on the counter that wasn’t there in the morning. Namjoon must’ve left it when he came home, you can hear the shower running from down the hall. It’s rare he beats you home on Tuesdays, always saying he’s got “something” to do “across town” and you just assume it’s with her, so you don’t ask.

But what’s more interesting than him being home early is what the card is: a temporary driver license issued to one Kim Namjoon. It’s got a picture of him, dimples out and glasses on, dated that day. You hadn’t even known he’d taken the class or the tests. You wonder why he wouldn’t tell you… It’s a big deal to him—he’d always said he didn’t need it, liked taking the bus and the metro. Thought cars were bad for the planet and that there were too many of them in the city anyway. But here’s the card, proof that for some reason he thought it was time for a change.

“Oh! You… I didn’t mean for you to find that…”

You look up. Namjoon’s standing by the couch, watching you examine his license, wrapped in a towel because if there’s a god, he only wants you to suffer.

“You got your license?”

“Ah… the temporary one, yeah. Still need to take the road test.”

He seems nervous, fidgeting with the blanket on the back of the sofa. You don’t know why he’d be nervous, it’s cool, you think. One more thing to add to the seemingly endless list of things Namjoon can do.

“Proud of you, Namjoonie. But… why? I thought you didn’t want to drive.”

He shrugs. “Don’t really, but… I just thought… Well, I thought if I got up the nerve to ask someone on a date, it would be nice to drive her. Just once or twice. Make it special, I guess. It’s probably stupid, but I thought y—” He cuts himself off and pauses. Looks out the window and scrunches his forehead up like he’s scolding himself. “I thought she might like that,” he says, finally.

“Did she tell you to get a license?” You’re sure you sound as outraged as you feel when you ask.

“No! She wouldn’t… No. I just wanted to try.”

“Okay. Okay, good. You shouldn’t change yourself for anyone, Joonie.” And then you do that thing again, where you say too much, where it comes out too fond. “You’re more than enough just the way you are. If she doesn’t know that, she’s not good enough for you.”

Namjoon smiles softly. “I’m starting to think she does,” he says.

And the look on his face… It’s happiness and warmth and fuck you wish it was for you. Those nagging feelings of wanting more more more from him are welling up in your chest. “Good,” you say, still too tender as you set the card in his palm and scoot past him to your room, mail forgotten. “That’s the very least of what you deserve.”

Later that night, you’ve tucked the soft and vulnerable parts of you back inside, showered, ordered food, and sent Namjoon down to pick it up with a stop at the convenience store for soju and beer. You can do this, you tell yourself in the mirror, psyching yourself up for the first time you both will hang out with all your friends in months.

The summer is drawing to an end. Seokjin and Taehyung are done teaching, Jimin and Hoseok got back over the weekend, Yoongi’s internship ended the week prior, and Jeongguk is back from his visit home, everyone returning in time to buy books and settle in for the new semester.

You and Namjoon have decided to keep the apartment: close enough to campus, affordable enough, and you both bashfully agreed you liked living together, an arrangement sealed with the secret handshake greeting from a drama you’d watched together over the summer. So, you have the biggest apartment out of all your friends (which doesn’t say much), and they’ve all decided in your group chat that the group “welcome home” party would take place in your living room.

Seokjin and Taehyung arrive first, Jeongguk in tow. They’re pouring through your door play-fighting and laughing and for a minute, you forget your crush on your roommate, you forget he’s pining after someone else, and you just feel so much joy that your friends are back as they pull you into a crushing group hug.

“We brought wine,” Seokjin says.

“Ew!” (A twin chorus from you and Jeongguk).

“Fine, you two have your cheap soju and leave the good stuff for the rest of us.”

“Hyung, that bottle was only six—”

“Shh! Have some respect!” Seokjin says, slapping in the air in Tae’s general direction.

They file into the kitchen to drop off snacks and cheap wine while you leave to dig around in Namjoon’s room for some records to play. It’s a hassle, finding enough that you like and then having to flip them every fifteen minutes, so you finally give up and resign yourself to just playing a playlist off your phone. Or anyone’s phone except Taehyung’s anyway, because “experimental jazz night” was not a hit last time he suckered you all into it.

When you come back down the hall, your kitchen is suspiciously quiet. There is whispering and you can’t hear what they’re saying but you know anytime Jeongguk and Seokjin are colluding that it means trouble.

“What’s going on in here?” You ask as you make it back to the kitchen.

The three of them are reading the notes on your fridge and they all hop around immediately. Jeongguk and Taehyung have the decency to look guilty, but Seokjin just looks like he’s unearthed the lost city or something.

“What are these?” he asks, eyebrow raised.

“Our shopping list? Chore list?”

Seokjin grins. “No, not those… These.” He plucks a sticky off the fridge and starts reading it aloud.

“...And greet the all auspicious day,

Whose privilege permits my song—”

You can feel your face like a wildfire, hot and persistent, as you snatch the piece of paper out of his hand and tuck it in your pocket.

“That’s nothing. Just a poem”

“That’s not nothing, that’s a love poem.”

“We just leave each other quotes sometimes,” you mutter, fussing around the kitchen, opening the bags of snacks and setting them on the counter. “It’s no big deal. Just a small thing.”

Jeongguk looks at you with wide eyes. “And you sometimes leave each other love poems?” he asks cautiously.

“I guess… It’s whatever,” you say.

“What’s whatever?” Hoseok’s bright voice drifts into the room. You snap your head up to see that he’s with Jimin, and they’re followed in by Yoongi and Namjoon, carrying all the food and drinks.

“Namjoon hyung and Noona leave each other love notes on the fridge!” Jeongguk says brightly. “It’s so cute.”

Your jaw actually drops, and you see in your periphery, Namjoon’s is doing the same.

“They’re not love notes!” You protest.

“They’re poems,” Namjoon adds with indignance.

“Besides,” you add, “he’s got a girlfriend or whatever.” You know you sound a little annoyed, and you don’t want to, but it’s worth it if it gets them off your backs.

“Wait, what?” Yoongi finally joins the conversation, peeking his head around the corner into the kitchen.

Six pairs of eyes are on you, and one (Namjoon’s) is anywhere but. You get the offputting feeling that something is happening, but you don’t know what. That the boys staring at you know something you don’t.

“Namjoonie… He’s got a girl he likes. So, they’re not love notes. They’re just quotes we like.”

Yoongi stares at you like he can’t quite believe what he’s hearing, and then Hoseok says, “Oh my god, they are that bad.”

Seokjin nods. “The worst, actually.”

“What? What is going on?” You ask. The question is directed at anyone, but you’re looking straight at Namjoon, who still won’t look at you.

“I’m just gonna open some soju,” Jimin says. “Come on, guys.”

The statement is clearly directed at Seokjin, Taehyung, and Jeongguk, who are all still huddled by the fridge, clearly amused at whatever is unfolding in your kitchen. One by one, they file out. Namjoon tries to follow them, but Yoongi unceremoniously shoves him back into the kitchen with a hissed, “I don’t think so, Namjoon.”

“I’m so confused,” you say quietly. Namjoon finally lifts his gaze to meet yours, and he looks so so nervous. Just like the day you’d agreed to be roommates. You have no idea why, because you’d never do anything to make him feel that way, not on purpose. “Is this about her? I’m sorry… I shouldn’t have—”

“No! I mean… yeah, it’s about her. Or you, I guess?”

“Me?”

Namjoon nods. He takes a deep breath and shoves his hands in his pockets. “You. You and her.”

“I don’t even know her, Namjoonie.”

He sighs. “You are her.”

You’re every meme of confused people trying to do math. You think you probably have a literal question mark above your head. You think you heard him right but… but there’s no way that it’s what he meant.

“What?”

Namjoon looks like it’s almost painful to keep speaking, also a little apologetic. “I like you,” he says, shrugging. “I like you so much, and I’m a dick for agreeing to be your roommate when I felt that way, and I thought after that one time… Well, I thought maybe you needed more and that’s why it never happened again, so I started going to the gym more and trying to… I don’t know. Be more?” He runs a hand through his hair and slumps against the counter. “I just like you so much and I wanted you to like me, too. But I—”

“You like me?”

“Oh, fuck, so much.” It’s almost out like a breath, floats through the space between the two of you, waves itself in front of your face.

“That’s why you thought it would be weird to be roommates…” you say, pieces clicking together.

“Yeah,” Namjoon agrees. “And why I tried to get biceps like Jimin and why I leave you love notes on the fridge, and why I wrote you a whole song about how incredible you are, how you make me feel, and how much I want you even though you don’t want me back…”

“Biceps like Jimin?”

“You said they were nice…”

“Oh my god.” Little details of the past few months since you slept together all start floating around in your head and you see it so clearly now, it all starts to make sense, all the silly little things Namjoon does for you because it’s you, because he likes you… and oh no…

“Namjoon.”

“Yeah?” He’s painfully cute like this—nervous and a little shy, hair falling into his eyes like it can protect him from looking right at you.

You take a couple of steps closer to him. “I like you, too.”

“You what?”

“I like you, too. Just the way you are. I like all the nice small things you do for me, I like how you think, I like how you smell like soap all the time ‘cause you take a million showers… I like living with you… I like your records and your books and… And it’s stupid probably, but I save all your doodles like a teenager would ‘cause I just like you so fucking much… And I’m the bad friend, the one who moved in with you even though I liked you like this. I thought I would get over it. I thought… I don’t know. I thought after we slept together you just wanted to be friends, so I’ve been trying so hard, but…”

“It’s awful,” he says, a giant grin on his face as he watches you stumble through your confession. “I thought you just wanted to be friends, too. You left before I could ask you to stay.”

“Yeah, it is awful. Liked you since that first day in the library.”

“Fuck, me too. We’re so ridiculous.”

“Jin was right, we’re the worst,” you whisper.

“You are!” You hear Jin call from the living room.

You let your head fall forward and bury it in Namjoon’s chest as he wraps an arm (with a perfectly sized bicep, you note, reminding yourself to tell him later) around you and laughs into your hair.

“You’re listening to us?” you protest.

“Hard not to,” Yoongi answers, “small apartment.”

“You fucked?!” Hoseok yells.

“Oh my god,” you moan into Namjoon’s shirt.

“I bet they made love,” you hear a dreamy-voiced Jimin chime in.

You can feel Namjoon’s laugh rumble through his chest against your ear. It’s the best feeling you’ve felt in months.

“So,” you start, pulling your head off his chest, but letting him slide his arm down yours until you’re loosely holding hands. “What now?”

“Well, we should probably talk.”

You peek around him to see your friends all staring at you. “Maybe later?” you ask.

“Later is good.” Namjoon smiles so so big. You love knowing that you’re the one making him feel happy, you think you’re a little ridiculous for being jealous of some other non-existent girl this whole time.

“We like each other,” you say, still a little in shock.

“We do.”

Then, because you’re you, and you have not ever once been cool in front of Kim Namjoon, you lift your palm up. And because he’s him, and now you know he probably thinks he has never once been cool around you, he gives you a high five, his palm connecting with yours and then lingering there while you look at each other and you try not to lift up on your toes and kiss the shit out of him.

“Did they just high five?” Hoseok asks, incredulous.

“They’re so weird. Do you remember when they shook hands on being roommates when it was so obvious they wanted to jump each other on the couch? They probably kissed no tongue and called it sex,” Seokjin says, unhelpfully.

“Hey!” you shout. “We can hear you!”

“The sex was really great, for your information,” Namjoon says, and your face heats immediately.

“It was,” you agree, if for no other reason than it really really was. And you want to make Seokjin as uncomfortable as possible. “Namjoon really knows wh—”

“This is going to be even worse than them being oblivious, isn’t it?” Yoongi asks no one in particular, cutting you off.

But that night after your friends leave, and you do get the chance to kiss Namjoon again, who is now not only your roommate, but your boyfriend, you know Yoongi couldn’t have been more wrong. This is infinitely better than being oblivious to Namjoon's feelings.

“What do you see in me?” he says into the ceiling, sweaty and a little hazy post-orgasm, after you’d made sure to seal your new arrangement properly. No high fives, no handshakes, just long kisses and nervous touches turning more sure, Namjoon making sure to whisper into your skin how much he cares for you, how sexy he thinks you are, how long he’s waited to have you again like this…

(And you returning those words, moving your hips in slow circles in his lap, fingernails trailing across his shoulders as you tell him how good he is, how gorgeous he looks, how his biceps are the exact right size for you to squeeze—which makes him laugh while he fucks you, and if that’s not the best thing you’ll ever see in your life, you’re not sure what is...)

You lace your fingers with his and turn to him, thinking about all the things you love about him, how all those pieces layer together to make something so big that it seems to take up your whole heart. “I like all the small things that make you, you.”

And he kisses you as a reply, lips soft and sweet on yours, and you decide that from now on, Tuesdays are for kissing your boyfriend in the moonlight and making sure he knows exactly how much you like him so that neither of you are ever unsure again.

#namjoon fic #namjoon smut #namjoon imagine #namjoon x you #namjoon x reader #namjoon fluff #namjoon fanfiction #knj x reader #kvanity #btshoneyhive #bts smut #bts fluff #bts writing #bts fanfic #bts imagines

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mapofthesoul20 · 2 years

Text

The Namgi “I am an XL, Hyung is an L. You could have just asked in Kakao, haha” thing and the Namgi “Such a hot guy/Yeah, the weather is hot here.” thing sit at the same table, and the table is called MY INSANITY

#namgi #namjoon #yoongi #suga #rm #LIKE #YOONGI TRYING TO FLIRT ON MAIN #and namjoon being PAINFULLY OBLIVIOUS #JUST LET HIM BANG YOU ALREADY NAMJOON #namgi will be the death of me #and i'm okay with that #agent report

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joon4eva · 11 months

Text

forg_tful — kim namjoon.

summary. where namjoon's forgetfulness gets him into trouble.

genre. established relationship ✰ angst ✰ fluff

word count. ~3,482 words

tags/warnings. angst; lots of it, crying, namjoon is a green flag idc, oc is whipped, apologies and a happy ending, oh also here's this to give you an idea of how i pictured joon towards the end of the story

masterlist :)

"sorry"s and "i forgot"s seemed to become part of your daily conversations.

tonight was the night you'd been waiting for, the evening you finally introduced namjoon, your boyfriend, to your parents over dinner. to your relief, everything went smoothly and your parents adored him.

however, despite the outward success of the event, frustration bubbled deep within you.

the reason for this internal turmoil stemmed from multiple factors. first and foremost, you were late to the dinner; an issue in itself.

but what added fuel to the fire was that your tardiness was a direct result of namjoon forgetting about the event altogether.

this wasn't simply a matter of being late - it went much deeper than that.

you had done everything possible to ensure he would remember – leaving sticky notes on the fridge, setting calendar reminders on his phone – but to no avail.

in the beginning, namjoon's forgetfulness was almost endearing – he would forget where he'd put his keys or the name of that movie you both watched last weekend. but eventually, this tendency seeped into larger aspects of your relationship, causing him to miss important dates or appointments - moments that mattered a lot to you.

it seemed like you were constantly having to cut him some slack and reschedule plans, hearing apologies aplenty.

but somehow, namjoon always knew how to make it up to you - showering you with kisses and sweet gestures, making incredible plans for recompense on another day, or even demonstrating his love physically in ways that left you dizzy and unable to walk straight for days afterwards.

but this time felt different.

this time, it felt like his apology was more of an afterthought than a genuine act of remorse. it felt like he simply didn't care – as if your frustrations were utterly inconsequential to him.

before leaving for dinner, shit really hit the fan; heated words were exchanged at lightning speed through clenched teeth and narrowed eyes.

his defensive attitude made it apparent that he simply believed another quick apology would be enough to sweep his negligence under the rug.

as much as you tried to suppress it throughout the night, frustration eventually took over your usually sunlit demeanor.

somehow, both of you managed to plaster on fake smiles upon arriving at your parents' house, pretending that everything was fine between you.

every warm smile felt forced and every tender touch unnerved you.

you could barely bring yourself to look at him the whole night, and every time he tried to make a reassuring or affectionate gesture by holding your hand or wrapping his arm around you, you subtly but firmly rebuffed him.

by some miracle, your parents remained oblivious to the storm cloud hanging over the two of you.

somewhere deep down, you knew you couldn't simply let this go – not this time.

and so, this brings us to where you find yourself now – in the car with namjoon in the passenger seat as you both return home in silence.

the quiet is deafening, your demeanor frosty, and your eyes stubbornly focused on the road ahead, while namjoon's eyes occasionally dart towards you nervously. at red lights, your vision blurs as you stare resolutely at the world outside, acutely aware of his silent presence beside you.

namjoon, usually so adept at reconstructing bridges burned in anger and patching emotional wounds with well-timed humor, seemed at a loss for how to approach this situation.

this time, it appeared he couldn't simply laugh and charm himself out of this.

he exhales deeply, running a hand over his face. "i really am sorry-" he begins, but you cut him off, your voice barely containing the pain you felt.

"namjoon, please. i don't have the strength to listen to another one of your apologies..."

he blinks at you for a moment, wordless. his heart aches with guilt as he sees just how upset you are - more than he had ever seen before.

he opens his mouth as if to say something more but ultimately decides against it.

"i just want you to care, namjoon," you murmur through quivering lips, tears balancing perilously on the edge of your eyelashes. "that's all i want. am i asking for a lot?"

sudden honking from behind startles the both of you as the car behind you grew impatient with your delay at the green light.

with a jolt, you press on the accelerator, driving on towards home as fresh tears threaten to escape from your eyes, your throat growing increasingly tight with unshed emotion.

with a quiet sob firmly concealed behind clenched teeth, you bite your lip and try to focus on the road ahead – unsuccessfully fighting against a flood of fresh tears cascading down your face.

namjoon quickly averts his gaze, allowing it to wander aimlessly beyond the confines of the car, seeking solace in anything but the heart-wrenching sight of your sadness.

the elevator ride up to your apartment was filled with deafening silence - one where neither of you dared utter a single word as if doing so would shatter what little remained between you both.

as soon as the apartment door creaked open and you stepped inside, your resolve seemed to enter shaky territory.

for a brief moment, you stand still just inside the doorway, your clammy hands still clutching onto the keys.

your eyes follow namjoon as he takes several steps into the entrance. he removes his shoes and coat, seemingly on autopilot.

however, he soon pauses his actions and turns to face you, visibly aware of your eyes scrutinizing his every move.

"i think…" the words caught in your throat, "i think i'm going to spend the night at my place." your voice was barely audible, even to yourself.

namjoon's face registers surprise, and he stops in his tracks, eyes studying you intently for any sign that might reveal your thoughts.

after a brief pause, he moves to slip his coat back on again, his brows furrowing in concern.

"okay. i'll come with—"

"no, namjoon," you interrupt him firmly. despite the hitch in your voice barely rising above a whisper, there was no doubt how serious you were. he stops moving – his face reflecting his surprise and confusion.

namjoon has always been inseparable from you; there hasn't been a single night he has spent away from your side since you've been together.

"i could take the couch if that's..." namjoon starts again tentatively.

"just… let me have this space tonight. please."

his broad shoulders tense and he lets out a shaky sigh, turning his head away for a brief moment so that you wouldn't see the hurt that flickered across his eyes or the subtle gestures as his fingers came up discreetly to wipe at them.

he turns back to face you again and there's a vulnerability in his gaze – his normally confident exterior now replaced by feelings of insecurity and genuine fear at what this separation might mean.

as if propelled by instinct, namjoon crosses the distance between you both faster than you can react. he wraps you tenderly in a warm embrace, his arms enfolding your body against his firm chest.

his hand comes up to cradle the back of your head as if trying to protect you from the world or, perhaps, himself.

as you lean into him, the warmth of his body seems almost too much to bear – like walking on hot coals or holding fire in your hands – yet you know that it's exactly what you're yearning for.

his arms draw even tighter around you, and he lowers his head to press it lightly against your hair; the familiar scent of your shampoo wafting towards his nostrils.

he exhales tenderly before murmuring your name softly. with a voice strained by raw emotion, he whispers hoarsely, "i love you," allowing each precious syllable to crack the tiniest bit.

"and i'm sorry. i know i messed up. but please remember that i love you."

—

the drive back to your apartment is hazy, almost as if your body transported you there without any conscious effort from your mind.

your hands grip a duffel bag stuffed with essential toiletries and a few changes of clothes, enough to last a couple of days.

the thought of turning back and returning to namjoon crossed your mind multiple times. the lingering sensations of his arms wrapped around you were still so vivid; his heartbeat pounding against your chest felt as if it was still happening.

and as difficult as it was to admit, by the time you had managed to finally step through the door and leave the house, a part of you had already forgiven him.

when you unlock the door and step inside your old apartment, you notice that everything is exactly as you left it; eerily clean along with the darkness that envelops the space, the accompanying emptiness, and the lack of life within.

the emptiness is almost palpable, with a barren fridge and clean empty shelves serving as a stark reminder of the life you've temporarily left behind.

the only reminder of your presence in this apartment is the furniture that you bought brand new when you first moved in - before namjoon had ever asked you to live with him.

rather than feeling like home, your apartment appeared abandoned and forgotten; a place where no one had ever taken residence.

with a flick of a switch, dim light fills the living room casting shadows on the surrounding walls.

you stand there, rooted in the center of your living room, as a memory suddenly resurfaces:

you and namjoon had been dating for nearly nine months at the time. by then, both of you were comfortable enough with each other to spend nights together at each other’s homes; so much so that it almost seemed natural for your things to mingle together.

you were both sitting cross-legged on your couch together, warm cartons of chinese food cradled in your hands while letting a cheesy romantic comedy flicker across the tv screen on netflix – his selection no less.

the remnants of dinner were almost gone when namjoon ventured deep into the takeout bag and emerged triumphantly with two fortune cookies clasped tightly between his fingers.

handing one over to you, he flashed a warm and playful smile - the kind that seemed to make his dimples more prominent than ever.

"i'll open mine first," he declared confidently.

you watched him fondly as he eagerly cracked open the cookie, listening intently as he read aloud:

all things are difficult before they are easy.

he pondered the words for a brief moment, then, in true namjoon fashion, nodded to himself and adorably popped both halves of the cookie into his mouth.

reclining against the couch cushions, he gives you a playful wink and motions for you to proceed. "your turn," he mumbled through his self-satisfied grin.

you broke your own cookie, feeling the small slip of paper between your fingers, and your eyes raced across the message before they stopped dead.

the words printed there sent your stomach tumbling, your heart performing dizzying backflips inside of your chest:

your fortune: move in with me?

you glanced up at namjoon just in time to notice him observing you intently, a smug expression dancing across his face – it was clear he was enjoying the sight of your reaction.

"well?" he asked innocently, feigning ignorance as he leaned in closer to where you sat on the couch.

"what does it say?"

—

in a fit of frustration, you spin around, clutch your duffel bag tightly, and trudge towards your bedroom with heavy, slow steps.

pulling on your pajamas and brushing your teeth almost mechanically, you finally crawl into bed – but sleeping alone feels alien to you.

the chill of the empty sheets envelops you, and try as you might to shake it off, it's an uncomfortable sensation that clings to your skin. your heart grows heavier as blankets enshroud your shivering form in a futile attempt at comfort.

when morning arrives — or perhaps it's afternoon by now — you find yourself even more exhausted than before if that's possible.

the sunlight filtering through your curtains causes a strain on your groggy eyes as they slowly crack open.

with one arm stretched out from beneath the covers, you reach for your phone — clinging to a fragile hope that maybe, just maybe, namjoon had called or left a message while you were asleep. reality's cold slap stings as your screen is devoid of notifications.

although space was something you thought you wanted – needed even – it was never something that felt so crushing with its absence filled by namjoon.

groaning slightly, you sit up in bed and stretch before rising unsteadily on weary limbs.

coffee – that's what you need right now.

you were sure that you didn't have any cream though, but perhaps the bitterness of black coffee would suit your current mood; it's almost as if the scent of it was already lingering in the air.

you groggily shuffle down the hallway with bleary eyes. except for an odd denim jacket tossed on the counter, nothing seemed out of place.

your eyes widened at the jacket as you halted abruptly: buttoned cuffs, oversized, and slightly faded.

it was namjoon's.

your eyes quickly dart to the entrance, where a pair of shoes that couldn't possibly be yours were thrown carelessly next to the door.

your heart skips a beat as adrenaline momentarily jars you awake.

the sound of rustling emanates from the kitchen, and with bated breath, you walk towards it. cautiously, you approach and peek around the corner.

there stands namjoon with his broad back overshadowing everything else in view.

he's clad in a crisp white tank top, toned arms on display and muscles subtly rippling beneath the fabric. his back faces away from you as he appears wholly engaged in some task at hand.

you rub your tired eyes and squint, trying to recall whether yesterday's events were merely figments of your imagination or if they genuinely transpired.

you remember everything vividly: it really did happen.

absentmindedly perched on your kitchen counter are two mugs; namjoon smoothly fills each with coffee while he hums to himself.

what catches you off guard is the presence of your favorite hazelnut creamer next to the mugs - something he clearly must have picked up for you - as well as an all-too-familiar takeout bag from your favorite bagel shop.

the creamer— so delightful that on one occasion, you could have sworn you were hallucinating when you swung open the refrigerator door, only to find that namjoon had stocked it with multiple bottles. they were meticulously arranged in such a way that they occupied the majority of the uppermost shelf.

"so you won't have to worry anymore about running out too quickly," he had explained that day.

a mixture of emotions bubbles within; anger competes with relief, anxiety dances with affection.

you wanted this, didn't you? your secret desires brought to life with his unexpected presence, yet simultaneously neglecting the boundaries you had asked for.

it was difficult to deny how alluring he looks in that tank top, the very image of domestic perfection as he prepares your morning coffee and a fresh breakfast spread.

and then he turns around, clutching both mugs in his hands.

he freezes, seeming equally startled by your sudden presence – as if he wasn't expecting to be discovered just yet.

his lips quirk upwards in a hesitant, yet warm smile as his eyes take in the sight of you—sleepy, tousled hair, and the adorable pout that comes with a still-drowsy state. "good morning," he murmurs softly.

"hi."

the two of you stand there for a beat, the awkwardness of the situation settling like a thick blanket around you.

the question spills out of you without warning:

"how did you get in?"

he glances down at the coffee mugs still cradled within his grip, cautiously responding, "you always leave a spare at our place. i thought it would be nice to talk over breakfast."

your voice falters as you try to respond, but any words that might have come forth dissolve into the swelling lump forming in your throat. instead, you opt for a subtle nod before turning away and leading him towards your small balcony.

as you step outside, the bright morning sunlight makes you squint, still adjusting from having just woken up not too long ago.

you take a seat with namjoon at the small table on the balcony, silently munching on cream cheese-slathered bagels and sipping coffee, which slowly helps lift the fog of grogginess clouding your mind.

your eyes occasionally flicker towards namjoon, whose pensive gaze seems fixed on some far-away point in the distance.

a somber cloud seems to hang over him and a sinking feeling in your stomach tells you that he's here to bring an end to something.

"i fucked up yesterday,” he says, breaking the silence, “i know that.”

your head turns to look at him, saying nothing.

"i'm sorry," he begins softly. "i know i can't make it up to you now, but i genuinely am sorry."

namjoon's eyes remain locked on the same distant point as before, and as he continues to speak, they're filled with a profound sadness that seems almost unbearable for him.

his voice begins to tremble ever so slightly as he starts to explain himself further. "i've always been forgetful; it's among my most significant flaws. but i want you to know that it's never been out of carelessness when it comes to you. sometimes, my mind just gets overwhelmed."

he takes a deep breath, glancing at his hands before turning to look at you and adds, "i promise i'll do better; not just because i need to but because i love you. and the fact that i was in bed without you last night made me realize just how much i truly hate being apart from you."

pausing for a moment, he reluctantly allows his hand to hover over yours before gingerly placing it atop your own.

"i understand if it takes time for you to forgive me – i'm not asking for it right now," he admits quietly, his voice wavering slightly. "all i need is a chance to prove to you that i can change and be there for you when you need me."

namjoon then slowly removes his hand and looks away, giving you space to consider his words while fidgeting with the coffee mug handle.

you release a heavy sigh and look away too, trying your best to hold back tears. "oh, namjoon," you murmur, forcing a weak, watery chuckle.

this man, you think to yourself, will be the end of you. gently, you reach out and take his hand once more, interlacing your fingers with his.

"you cannot do that to me again."

in response, he turns his head to look at you once more - tears brimming in his eyes as they drink in every detail of your face. his expression softens with love and relief as he nods earnestly, "i won't. i promise."

holding namjoon's hand firmly in yours, you slowly stand up from the cozy, cushioned chair, beckoning him with a subtle nod of your head, signaling him to follow suit.

he rises from his seat, his tall figure towering over you as he instinctively stretches his arm wide, then gently pulls you into a tight and loving embrace.

his arms envelop you while his cheek tenderly rests on the top of your head. sighing contentedly, you nuzzle your face into the comforting fabric that covers his chest.

"namjoon," you quietly ask, snuggling deeper, "have you slept?" you can hear the slight rustle of fabric as he shakes his head.

"nope," he replies, his voice resonating through his chest.

he presses a tender kiss onto the top of your head before continuing, "you know i can't sleep without you." his words bring a smile to your face and a chuckle bubbles up within you.

"let's go back to bed, then."

you both walk back inside your apartment and into your bedroom where everything feels warmer than it did just yesterday: the bed that awaits you; the covers that promise to envelop the two of you in their cozy embrace; and namjoon himself, whose presence brings solace to your heart.

and as you lay down next to him and rest your head upon his chest, namjoon's heartbeat fills your ears—slower and steadier than it was the day before.

the sound is a soothing lullaby that leads you both to fall into a deep slumber, allowing you to sleep better than you have in what feels like an eternity.

#bts x reader #bts fanfiction #bts imagine #kim namjoon #namjoon x reader #bts #namjoon imagine #kim namjoon imagine #kpop imagines

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7ndipity · 6 months

Text

Make an Effort

Namjoon x Reader

Summary: When you ask Joon to be your fake boyfriend, he ends up finding out about your very real crush on him. Luckily for you, the feeling’s mutual.

Word count: 1.5k

Warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, lil suggestive, not proofread(when are they ever tho?)

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

Masterlist

Requests are open

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•

You and Namjoon had the kind of friendship where you’d known each other long enough that you could ask each other to do pretty much anything and you would more than likely agree. Shoulder to cry on? You’re there. Hide a body? You’ll at least consider it.

And yet, it still managed to catch Joon off guard when you came bolting over to him in the middle of the party you were both attending and latched onto his arm.

“I need you to be my boyfriend for ten minutes.” You said frantically.

“What?!” He spluttered, nearly choking on his drink.

“One of my old roomates from university is here with her husband and I fucked up and told them I had a boyfriend and now they want to meet him!” You explained quickly.

“Why would you tell them that?!” He gaped at you.

“Because I’m a fucking idiot who should not be allowed to speak after drinking tequila, now will you please help me?!” You begged.

He hesitated for a brief moment before nodding. “Fine, ten minutes.”

“Thank youuu!!” You pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before pulling him along behind you through the crowd, oblivious to the sudden flush of crimson that was coloring Joons face due to your actions. He managed to compose himself though before you reached the table where your friend was sitting with a few other people.

“Guys, you remember Namjoon, right?” You said lightly, still holding onto his hand tightly.

There was a brief flurry of greetings as Joon smiled and nodded politely, slightly relieved that he did in fact remember your friend from the early days of your friendship.

You all talked comfortably for a few minutes, Joon finding it slightly too easy to slip into the role of pretend boyfriend, enjoying the feeling of your hand in his. He couldn’t help but wonder if this would be how it felt if he actually had the nerve to confess and tell you how he felt about you.

Too soon though, the moment came to an end as you released your hold on him to go get you both more drinks.

“So, how long have you and Y/n been together?” Your friend asked, trying to make small talk.

“Not long. It’s uh, still pretty new.” He said somewhat awkwardly, glancing towards where you’d disappeared.

“You make a really cute couple.” She said. “It’s nice to see that you two got together, especially considering how Y/n used to have the biggest crush on you back in university.”

“What?” His full attention flicked back to her, suddenly very interested in this conversation. You liked him?! This was brand new information to him.

“They didn’t tell you?” She asked, surprised. “I figured that’s how you got together.”

“No, I mean I knew,” He lied quickly. “I just didn’t realize it was common knowledge.”

“Oh, it wasn’t.” She laughed, understanding. “They never actually told me, but it was pretty obvious, you know? Like, I remember when you started dating some one girl during our senior year, they wouldn’t leave the house for like a week.”

He remembered you avoiding him for a week, but you’d told him it was because you had the flu and didn’t want him to catch it.

Was that the real reason? And if so, why hadn’t you said anything?

He knew the likely answer though before he’d even finished the thought, because it was the same reason why he’d never said anything about his own feelings; you hadn’t wanted to fuck up your friendship in the event that the other person didn’t feel the same way.

The fear of potentially losing one of the most important people in his life had been more than enough to keep him from vocalizing his feelings for this long, he could imagine how it must’ve felt for you.

But now that he knew you did feel the same(or at least used to, but he was hoping it was still true), the question was how to proceed with this information.

He supposed he could just ask you point blank, but knowing you, you would likely bristle and deny it in an attempt to avoid the potential embarrassment or rejection. Something more subtle would be the better route.

He was pulled out of his thoughts by you returning with the drinks.

“What’s got you so smiley?” You asked, noticing his odd expression.

“Just hearing funny stories about you.” He said lightly, a plan beginning to form in his head as he spoke.

“Nothing too compromising, I hope.” You said, only half joking.

“Nah, just interesting.” He said, changing the subject. “Hey, You wanna grab breakfast together tomorrow?”

You looked up in surprise. “I guess. What’s the occasion?”

“Nothing, just thought it’d be fun.” He replied with a shrug.

“Okay, sure.” You nodded.

“Cool, It’s a date.” He said, biting back a grin as he caught the way your eyes flickered to him at his choice in phrasing, but said nothing.

He managed to surprise you again the next morning when you opened the front door to find him waiting with a bouquet of pink carnations.

“Morning.” He said brightly.

“What are those?” You asked, ignoring his greeting, distracted by the flowers.

“They’re for you.” He said, as if it was obvious.

“Why?” You asked, brow furrowing in confusion.

“I saw them on the way over and remembered you saying that they were one of your favorites, so I thought you’d like some.” He said, offering you the bouquet.

Hesitantly, you took them, still eyeing him curiously. “Thank you…”

“You’re welcome.” He smiled. “Now, breakfast?”

The rest of the morning passed fairly normally, though it didn’t pass your notice that Namjoon seemed to be extra attentive towards you, opening doors and pulling your chair out for you. He also refused to let you pay, even though it was technically your turn.

“I’m the one that asked you out, I should be the one to pay.” He said, quickly swiping his card.

“Don’t say it like that,” You said with an awkward laugh. “It makes it sound like we’re on a date.”

“I mean, I was your fake boyfriend last night.” He said with a smirk, making you flush slightly.

You didn’t say anything more about his behavior until later as he was walking you to your door.

“Did something happen?” You asked suddenly.

“What do you mean?” He asked.

“You’re being like, really nice today.” You said, making him laugh.

“Am I not allowed to be nice to you?” He asked.

“No, you are,” You said. “I was just wondering what the reason was.”

“I just felt like it, is that okay?”

“I guess so.” You shrugged. “I’m just not used to having someone put this much effort into a ‘date’.”

“Well, I’m gonna have to change that.” He grinned, trying to quell the thrill in his chest at your referring to the outing as a date.

For the next week, his odd behavior continued, taking you on outings to the park or to dinner, buying you little gifts, texting you good morning every day, he’d even got you both little lego models to build together while you hung out at his place.

“Babe, can you pass me that piece?” He asked distractedly, the simple petname being the thing that finally made you snap, freezing for a moment as you stared at him.

“Why are you doing this?” You asked abruptly.

He glanced up in confusion. “Doing what?”

THIS!” You gestured. “The dates, the gifts, the ‘babe’? Why are you acting like there’s something between us all of a sudden? Why are you trying to get my hopes up when I know nothing will-”

Your words were silenced by his lips suddenly on yours, soft but insistent, as his hands came up to gently cradle your face. After a few seconds, he slowly pulled away, cautiously meeting your wide-eyed stare.

“Because I want there to be something between us.” He confessed. “I want you to get your hopes up. I want you to know what it feels like to have someone make an effort to show their love for you, because I do. I love you, Y/n.”

For several long seconds, you stared at him in shock, before suddenly tackling him, knocking him back against the sofa as you reconnected your lips with his.

“I love you too.” You managed to mumble in between kisses, earning a muffled chuckle from him as he returned your enthusiasm, hands fumbling to find purchase to pull you even closer, winding one arm around your waist while the other hand came up to rest on the back of your neck.

Eventually, you had to pull back for air, staring at each other with hooded eyes.

“So, does this mean I get to be your real boyfriend this time?” He joked, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

You let out a shaky laugh, already leaning back in. “Honey, you can be whatever you want.”

Taglist: @sopebubbles-replies @btsw1fe @this-must-be-my-tardis @whitefoxgirl @bethanysnow @captainorangegoose

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

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riaarivic · 5 months

Text

HIS - KNJ x F!reader: 2 Clean

💗Pairings idol!NamjoonxReader

💗 Genres idol!AU, Smut, Angst, Romance, Enemies to lovers

💗 Rating 18+ minors DNI

💗 Summary Four years have passed since the last time you saw Kim Namjoon. But now he was right in front of you, with the same stupid warm smile that made your good judgment (and underwear) disappear without a trace. You haven't seen him for four years. But now here you were working for BTS again. Having to see his insufferably attractive face every day of your life again.

But there's something Namjoon doesn't know. The little girl with almond eyes and dimples in her smile clinging to his ex-girlfriend's hip, not only looked too much like him. But she was… His.

💗 Warnings for the chapter: reader has very conflictive emotions about the news of her pregnancy at the begining. This chapter will have some back and forth time skips, miscommunications, pinning, SO MUCH PINNING, Hurt/comfort.

💗 A/N: ⚠️ dialogue in BOLD is intended to be in English if not, they are speaking in Korean. ⚠️

Love, Ria

💗 Chapter wordcount 4,8k

💗 Series index: 1 2

“The drought was the very worst, ah-ah. When the flowers that we'd grown together died of thirst It was months and months of back and forth, ah-ah, ah-ah. You're still all over me like a wine-stained dress I can't wear anymore” -Taylor Swift

💗💗💗MARCH 2021💗💗💗

Your daughter, Hana.

Amid the rapid-fire questions echoing in Namjoon's head, his pulse raced as you introduced the unexpected star of the show—

Who had just barged into the already tense conference room.

Like a small– But charming tornado.

"Everyone, this is my daughter, Hana. Baby, say hi; they will work with mommy." You said sitting her on your lap.

"Hello, I’m Hana. I’m Three years old.” Hana greeted, her innocence oozing charm.

She spoke korean.

That made Namjoon smile.

Cute.

"Baby Hana, do you know who we are?" Jimin asked, a mischievous glint in his eyes.

She nodded. Did she?

"You are Jimin, Jk, V, Jin, J-Hope, Suga, and… Rap Monster?” Hana’s innocent attempt earned laughter from everyone.

Everyone but Namjoon.

He halted what he was doing, a sudden realization hitting him like a ton of bricks.

She was three years old.

And she looked like him.

Too much like him.

“She’s so polite!” Jimin exclaimed.

“That’s so cute!” chimed in V.

“Are you an army, baby Hana?” Jin inquired, curious.

“No,” Hana replied. “I like Seventeen more.” Jin's shocked expression made everyone burst with laughter.

“Oh! But we’re cooler than them!” Jin tried to protest.

“I’m sorry; she has her interests, and right now, she’s obsessed with Wonwoo from Seventeen.” you tried to explain. But Seokjin was already about to get into a fight with a three year old to prove that, In fact, BTS were much cooler.

Not that Namjoon had a problem with Seventeen.

But he considered himself objectively cooler than them.

He stopped mid thought. Why the hell is he caring so much of what a toddler thought?

"Hana! Here you are!" A tall man with glasses emerged, breaking the charm of the moment. "We apologize for the interruption. Our Hana tends to run too fast. I am Eric Lee, Stardom’s chief financial operator and Y/N’s husband," he added, the unnecessary detail sending a ripple through the room.

The oblivious members resumed their excitement, but Namjoon felt like a computer crashing and about to explode. The mathematical calculations in his head were on the brink of causing a stroke.

If Namjoon's eyes could kill, Eric would be a bloody stain on the floor. Jealousy surged within him, a feeling he knew he didn't deserve.

But your daughter, she was three.

That meant you met this person around the same time you broke up.

You surely moved fast.

The Eric guy apologized again and took Hana from your arms to take her outside. She smiled at everyone and waved goodbye.

Her dimpled smile made Namjoon’s heart do a somersault.

The meeting continued as if background noise, but Namjoon's focus shifted to you, studying your face. That girl, she looked too much like him and nothing like this whoever-I-don’t-care guy.

It couldn't be possible.

He admitted he hurt you. But you would never do that to him.

Right?

If that girl was his.

You would have told him.

But he looked too much like him.

And he needed to talk to you.

💗💗💗FEBRUARY 2017💗💗💗

The conference room hummed with tension.

As the team gathered for a crucial meeting on the North American leg of their Wings Tour. Namjoon, the usually composed leader, wore a furrowed brow and an air of defiance. The discussion centered around their press schedules.

Namjoon's frustration boiled over as he voiced his stance, "I won't be a clown for them. We're artists. I won't subject the group to this circus. Where the only thing they ask us if we had ever eaten a hamburger"

You, seated across the table, shot him an incredulous look.

"Namjoon, we can't afford to cut the press schedules. If we want BTS to break into the mainstream music market, we need exposure. Press appearances are non-negotiable."

He scoffed, "Exposure won't matter if they don't take us seriously. I won't compromise our art for popularity."

The heated exchange drew the attention of the other members and the managers.

This was the third time this week.

And the main managers were starting to think if you were worht all this tenssion.

But you did get them an appearance on the three main late night shows in the US for their tour promotion.

So you two had to learn to get along.

The room crackled as you shot back, "This is not about compromising your art, Namjoon. It's about strategic promotion. We need the media to understand and appreciate you, all of you."

Namjoon's eyes flashed with anger, and just as the confrontation seemed to reach its peak, J-Hope intervened.

"I think it's enough. This is about the success of the group. We'll do what it takes to keep BTS in the public eye, and that includes press appearances."

The room fell silent for a moment, the weight of the decision sinking in.

Yoongi, who had remained quiet, finally spoke up. "I get where Namjoon is coming from, but we have to adapt to the market. If this is what it takes, then we'll do it. And Namjoon, you have Y/N's support. She won't let us down."

You nodded, your frustration simmering beneath the surface. The resolution hung in the air as the team grudgingly agreed to move forward with the press schedules.

The future of BTS in the North American market now rests on the delicate balance between you and him.

And none of you would give the other the satisfaction of a win.

After the intense meeting, you needed a moment to decompress. So you headed to the lounge to join the stylist crew for lunch.

The atmosphere was more relaxed here, a welcome change from the tension in the conference room. The aroma of delicious foods filled the air as you settled at the table with your colleagues.

As you unwrapped your lunch, the stylist crew delved into a gossip session.

“Y/N-ssi, Do You know Ha-young? She’s from the makeup team” You nodded. “She just confessed to PD-nim that she caught one-sided feelings with one of the members” the younger stylist said leaning closer to you “Bad girl. She should have known better”

“My money is on Jimin” one of them said and the others giggled. You couldn’t help but feel a bit bad for the girl who had just lost her job.

Their director was unforgiving.

Just like they have told you on your first day here. Having any type of personal relationship with any of the members was the cardinal sin.

Poor Ha-young, was going to be blacklisted from the industry, a harsh punishment for what was deemed reckless and unprofessional behavior.

Listening to the gossip, you couldn't help but shake your head.

The idea of jeopardizing your career for a simple crush seemed both reckless and foolish.

As the chatter continued, you found yourself silently reaffirming your commitment to keeping personal and professional boundaries intact.

That will never be you.

💗💗💗NOVEMBER 2019💗💗💗

“I am really sorry, doll,”

Yoongi murmured, his eyes filled with genuine concern.

“I don’t understand anything that’s happening,” you admitted, the weight of the situation heavy on your shoulders. You patted Hana’s back as she slept peacefully unaware of the deep wound on her mother’s heart.

One that you would have to mend.

To have the strength to raise a child…

By yourself.

“You know it takes time for him to wrap his head around things. He’ll know better, give him time,” Yoongi offered, his voice reflecting a hint of confusion and frustration with Namjoon's actions.

“I wish I had that luxury, Yoongi. But she’s here. She’s alive, she needs things. I can’t just go and say that I need time. She needs a parent… Both of us.” Yoongi sighed, understanding the gravity of the situation.

“I considered it, you know? Not Having her” your heart sank confessing this for the first time outloud “But, I guess I was selfish, and I resent myself for it. The selfish side of me wanted to at least have this. But she’s so much more than just us. She’s so special.”

“I can see that,” he replied, a bittersweet smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

“You hate babies, Min,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood.

“This one’s alright. She’s a part of you too. And that makes her special.”

“I’m scared,” you confessed, vulnerability seeping into your words.

“I know, doll,” Yoongi reassured, his tone softening.

“I don’t know if I can be a good mom to her. I can’t do this alone.”

“First of all, you are not alone. Second of all, you are the most capable, hardworking, and kind person I’ve met. It’s going to be fucking hard? Yes, I’ll not sugarcoat it. But you got this.”

“I want to punch him in the face so much.” You felt the first tears start to fall from your eyes.

“I know, doll. Me too,” Yoongi admitted, the unspoken understanding between you two creating a bond of shared frustration and support.

Yoongi placed a comforting hand on your shoulder, his gaze filled with both empathy and frustration. "Look, Y/N, I know Namjoon, and this is so unlike him. We've been through everything together for more than ten years, and he's not the type to turn away from responsibilities. There has to be something else going on."

Your eyes filled up with tears again, a mixture of sadness and anger. "I just don't understand why he sent his mother, with an envelope full of money instead of facing us himself. It feels like he's treating us like a burden."

Yoongi's expression hardened, a rare sight for someone known for his calm demeanor. "He messed up big time, and he needs to face the consequences. You and Hana deserve better."

"I thought he loved me. I thought we meant something to each other," you confessed, your voice cracking.

"He does, Y/N. I can't explain his actions, but I've never seen him act this way. Whatever it is, he needs to sort it out. Meanwhile, you focus on being the amazing mother I know you can be."

Tears spilled down your cheeks, and Yoongi pulled you into a tight embrace. "I'm here for you, Y/N. We all are. BTS isn't just about the stage; we're a family and both of you are a part of it. Families stick together, no matter what."

As you let out a shaky breath, a mixture of gratitude and sadness, you whispered, "Thank you, Yoongi."

"Anytime, doll. You’ve got this," he reassured, his words carrying a promise of solidarity and support. The hotel room, once filled with the weight of uncertainty, now held a glimmer of hope amid the storm of emotions.

You’ve got this.

You had to.

💗💗💗MARCH 2017💗💗💗

They just got nominated to an international award.

Everyone else was celebrating their milestone.

But Namjoon just couldn't enjoy it as much as he wanted to.

He was happy.

For the first time in his life he felt like they were finally receiving the praise they deserved for their art and their hard work.

But the weight of their public persona and the fine lines they could never cross as idols in Korea, was growing heavier by day. And the endless possibilities of major exposure scared the fuck out of him.

They were on their six date of the tour when he felt like he was going to die.

The air backstage in Newark was thick with the aftermath of Namjoon's exhaustion-fueled breakdown.

You found him leaning against a wall, a cigarette between his fingers. He couldn’t hide the trembling of his hands.

"That's an awful habit you have right there," you commented, eyeing the smoke.

"I can say the same to you," he retorted, nodding at the Coca-Cola can in your hand. "What can I say, everyone picks their own poison." you smiled at him honestly. For the first time.

Surprisingly, it led to the first civil conversation between you two.

You leaned against the wall beside him, sipping your cola, the fizz providing a rhythmic contrast to the quiet.

He broke the silence, "You know, sometimes I feel like I'm just a puppet, dancing to whatever tune the media plays."

"It’s okay to feel tired sometimes, you know?" you offered.

"I do, but being their leader and their spokesperson. I can’t afford to be nervous or too tired," Namjoon admitted. "I speak for myself in these interviews. It is a huge weight on my shoulders to speak for everyone. Sometimes they might not agree with what I’m saying."

"Yeah, I reckon Panda Express being your favorite restaurant in America is a pretty controversial opinion," you teased, earning a hearty laugh from him.

"Do you think they are going to ever take us seriously?" he asked with a laugh and a touch of desperation.

"They better do. You guys will own this industry one day."

He shot you a grateful smile, and for a moment, the weight on his shoulders seemed to ease.

"That is a pretty controversial opinion. I am a 'what’s your favorite American food' away from literally losing it," he confessed.

"You know," you began, changing the topic with a playful grin, "I think your controversial opinions are what make you more human to your fans. They love you for being real."

Namjoon chuckled, the tension dissipating. "Maybe I should start a blog—'Kim Namjoon's Unfiltered Thoughts.'"

"You might break the internet with that," you joked, enjoying the rare camaraderie.

As the conversation lightened, you both shared a laugh, finding solace in this unexpected connection. The backstage chaos seemed to fade away, leaving only the two of you in a bubble of understanding.

"You'll do fine. You always do," you reassured him.

"Thank you."

As a friendly gesture, you pulled a small disinfectant from your pocket.

"Manager Sejin was looking for you; you better use this before he finds you. You don't want him scolding you for the smell." you said before turning away to head back inside.

Namjoon chuckled, taking the disinfectant. "Thanks, Y/N. For being here."

"Anytime, Joon," you replied, the use of the nickname a testament to the newfound camaraderie

He smiled, and the scent of the disinfectant mixed with your fragrance, like flowers in the air.

As Namjoon walked away, disappearing into the backstage hustle, he took a moment to collect his thoughts.

"Y/N!" A familiar voice called out, it was Sejin, the ever-watchful manager, threading through the maze of crew members and equipment.

You approached him, noting the stern expression on his face. "Mr. Sejin, you were looking for Namjoon?"

He nodded, "Yes, he needs to wrap up the interviews and rest. The schedule is tight, and we can't afford any delays."

You couldn't help but feel a sense of protectiveness toward Namjoon. "He's doing his best, Sejin. But he's human, not a machine."

Namjoon was about to walk to where you were but that coment made him freeze on his feet.

Sejin sighed, his stern expression softening. "I know, Y/N. I just worry about them all. The pressure is immense."

"It is, but moments like these," you gestured to the chaotic backstage, "it is good remind them that they're not alone."

He offered a small smile, appreciating the sentiment. "You're right. Well, let's make sure Namjoon gets some rest."

As you both navigated the backstage maze, you didn’t know he listened to the conversation. And he couldn't shake off the unexpected warmth that had emerged from the brief encounter with you.

The chaotic world of stardom was vast, but in that moment, a connection had formed—one that hinted at the resilience and humanity behind the larger-than-life personas.

Maybe you weren’t that bad.

💗💗💗AUGUST 2020💗💗💗

You had gone to a therapist when Hana was one.

The therapist's office had become a sanctuary for you, you needed guidance on the hard task of being a single mother to Hana.

She was going to ask the inevitable questions about her father one day. And you needed to know what to say. But no amount of therapy could have prepared yourself for this day.

Hana was smart, too smart for her age.

And when you came back from a playdate at her friends house.

She wanted answers to her questions.

"Why don't I have a daddy?"

You two were back in her room getting ready to sleep and you knew that question was coming.

You took a deep breath as you sat next to her, trying to find the right words. "All families are different, baby. Some have a mommy and a daddy. Some have two mommies or two daddies. Some, like ours, have a mommy and all your uncles and aunts. Isn't that fun?"

"It is fun," she replied, but the dissatisfaction lingered in her eyes. She had more questions, and you knew your initial answer wasn't enough.

And now she discovered kpop.

And she was obsessed with it.

You felt like throwing up everytime you saw him on your screen.

The bitter reminder that she deserved to know the truth. However, you weren't ready to shatter the illusion just yet. Telling anyone that her father was the leader of the biggest music group in history seemed unbelievable.

You knew how crazy you will sound.

Even your therapist had a hard time believing your story the first time you went to her.

But, your daughter was the living image of her father.

And you had shown her your old Big Hit contract for her to finally believe you.

"So I don’t have a dad?" Hana's expectant eyes pleaded for an honest answer.

"You do have one. He is living his dream, making millions of people happy," you stammered, your hands trembling as you combed her hair. Even though Hana was still a child, she sensed the discomfort and wisely chose not to press the topic any further—for today.

Later that night, as if the universe mocked you, he appeared on your TV screen. "I want to be a dad," he confessed to the interviewer, his smile was radiant as always. It felt like a punch to your stomach, the wine glass slipping from your hand and staining the new rug.

Fuck him.

He was a dad. He just chose not to be one.

The fandom even had the joke that he had a hidden wife and kids.

You entertained thoughts of shattering his public image, creating rumors that could strip away the disarming smile he flaunted. But the truth was, you could never inflict that pain on your daughter.

As the wine stain marred your rug, you vowed to shield Hana from the harsh realities as long as you could. But beneath your composed exterior, a storm of emotions raged.

Just for a little longer.

She will soon be old enough to understand.

But you didn't look forward breaking her heart with the news that her father didn't want her in his life.

💗💗💗FEBRUARY 2018💗💗💗

Everyone was tense.

The word disbandment floated heavily on the air.

After this morning’s team meeting things were pretty rough.

They were tired.

They felt like nothing was working in their favor.

Some of the members wanted a break.

Some of them wanted to keep going.

He had to remain unbiased.

You knew how unfair it was.

For him and for all of them.

Message from NJ: meet me upstairs. studio.

You knew what that meant.

He wanted to fuck the frustration away.

And you would be lying if you said you didn’t want to.

This was the riskiest thing you've ever done yet. You knew how dangerous it was for you especially. You were breaking your own rule and you were being careless.

You knew perfectly well what were the consecuences of what you were doing.

But you couldn’t get to care enough to stop you from hurriedly hitting the lock combination of his Studio.

His tired eyes greeted you. And a second later you were pinned to the wall behind you, hands everywhere and not enough at the same time.

And you wanted to ignore how much it hurt you that you were just this to him.

A relief.

“I missed this” he whispered against your lips. His tounge tasting your lower lips. Wanting to savour everything before devouring it all at once.

You missed it too.

But you were too stubborn to say it outloud.

And he was too, trying to pretend that he missed this whatever you had going on.

Instead of just you.

As always it started like a fight for dominance. His kisses carrying a hunger that transcended mere physical release. The urgency in his touch revealed a deeper need, one he was too stubborn to acknowledge.

Namjoon steps between your thighs and you can feel how much he needed this. His body is warm against yours as he lowers his lips to kiss down the column of your neck.

"You smell so good" you feel the soft breeze of his breath against your skin. And before you could reciprocate his words you felt the sharp pain of his teeth biting the same spot of your skin he just kissed a second ago.

"Namjoon-" a small whisper leaves your lips and a wave of conflicted feelings wash over his body.

He wanted to drown the world around you.

Where only the two of you existed.

And that scared him.

How much he really needed you.

He lifted you, his grip momentarily loosing his balance, and both of you erupted into laughter as you tumbled onto the sofa. "I'm so sorry," he said, his eyes holding a vulnerability that surpassed the laughter. "I'm just... I'm so tired."

His heart was breaking.

With a gentle smile, you cupped his cheek, your thumb wiping away his tears. "It’s okay, Joonie. Everything is going to be okay."

Your words rendered him defenseless. He was so tired of pretending he didn’t feel safe in your arms. He wrapped his arms around you and you could feel his body trembling with sobs.

He called you to fuck his frustration out of his system.

Just like you’ve been doing for a few months now.

But now on his studio floor he had a realization he wasn’t ready to confess just yet.

Everything else he had been saying to himself about you was a lie.

How he didn’t care; that you were just a passing crush. That he was too tired and too frustrated and that you both enjoyed each other’s company. That you were only good sex to him.

All of that was a lie.

As he kept crying and hugging you on his studio floor.

Both of you came to the same conclusion silently.

This wasn’t just sex; friends-with-benefits secret thing you had going on.

It was something much more complicated.

Something that could potentially destroy you.

The two of you stayed in silence on the floor, still wrapped on each other's arms.

That was the moment Namjoon realized.

He called you for sex.

But he just needed you.

💗💗💗MARCH 2021💗💗💗

A Battleground.

The room felt like it had become a battleground of emotions, the air thick with tension as memories and unspoken words lingered between you and Namjoon.

Right after the briefing ended he had dragged you into a conference room. It had been a week since you had met again and they were preparing to go back to Korea.

He was a sound man now. Not the youg man almost teenager that would have rushed into conclusions. First he needed to make his own research.

Have a few conversations with people.

Because he would never outlive the embarrasment if he was wrong.

But, all Namjoon could find was that Hana was your daughter and not your husband's.

And now you were alone for the first time in Three years, the silence was deafening, the unspoken history between you threatening to consume the room.

In the past, when you were alone with him, confessions of love had been whispered like forbidden promises against your lips in a conference room.

Just like the one you were in.

Today, his gaze was intense, his movements calculated, as if he were dissecting the reality before him. The little girl playing outside in your office seemed like a mirage, a cruel joke that fate had played on both of you.

Namjoon's stare bore into you, and the atmosphere crackled with the spark of four years of unsaid words. Finally, the tension shattered like glass as he spat out,

"Is she mine?"

His voice, sharp and accusatory, slashed through the heavy air.

A small, bitter part of you considered lying, but the futility of it hung in the air.

He knew, yet he chose to ignore it.

"Yes, Namjoon, she's your daughter," your voice strained, attempting to retain a semblance of control. "Her name is Hana Lee."

Two heartbeats passed, revealing a Namjoon you no longer recognized.

The man before you had become a diplomat, his mind working to carefully choose his words, concealing emotions you once knew he wore on his sleeve.

He was deflecting, you knew what he was doing.

You trained him to do that, long ago when you worked with them.

He was controlling his real emotions and speaking like at a press conference.

Another heartbeat passed and a spark of genuine emotion broke through when the reality of his daughter's existence sank in.

"Lee?"

His voice began to fill with an anger simmering beneath the surface, like molten lava fighting its way to the top of a volcano. "My husband’s last name," you retorted, your tone flat, a facade of control slipping away.

"You gave another man's last name to my daughter" his eyes darkened in disbelief and you couldn't help but chuckle at his nonsense.

If he was going to be this cruel.

You could play the game just as well.

You both were used to tearing each other into pieces anyway.

"You weren't there to give her yours, so." your voice sounded even more cynical than you expected to.

"Why the hell didn't you tell me?" Namjoon's jaw clenched, frustration etched across his features.

A bitter chuckle escaped your lips. “Did you expect a wedding invite?”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “I meant… the fact that I have a daughter.” he growled the last sentence through his teeth.

So much for calm and collected.

"Oh, but I tried," you shot back, frustration bubbling over. "Got on a plane for sixteen hours with a baby on my lap. Only to be warmly welcomed by your mother and Sejin with an envelope full of money and the threat to take her from me. What was I supposed to do?"

Namjoon's eyes narrowed in disbelief. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"You don't remember. Let me refresh your memory, shall we?" Bitterness laced your words. "You sent your mother and your manager to tell me that having an unplanned child out of wedlock would have 'destroyed you and Bangtan,' that you were so very sorry and told me to disappear"

He was about to speak but you didn't let him. All the things you have wanted to say for four years started to flow out of you like a dam that had just broken.

And the water would destroy everything on its way.

Starting with the both of you.

"They said you didn't want anything to do with us. And that if I ever came back, they would take Hana away from me. That I was just a minor mistake, an experience you just needed to have'' Anger surged within you. "Riding the horse isn't what you call it, right? And that my daughter was just the consequence of my own carelessness. That I should have known better."

You didn't know when you started to shout and now you couldn't stop. You wanted him to hurt as much as you were. "You told them to tell me all that. Because you didn't have the balls to say it right to my face"

"Or maybe you just didn't give a fuck."

Namjoon's features shifted from confusion to a hint of regret. "“That didn’t… I didn’t... I would never have done that."

“You didn't do what?” You turned away, unable to look at him. "You can't just waltz in here and pretend like you didn’t know," you said, your voice cracking with rage. "You missed everything, Namjoon. She's so smart and kind. Even when she feels like there's a missing part from her"

“Y/n” his voice was barely a whisper as his finger touched your wrist, sending electric shockwaves through your body. “I was waiting for you, but you never came.”

“Bullshit.”

“I don’t understand what game you’re playing right now Kim Namjoon, but I’ll tell you something. It's over. I will not let you make fun of us anymore.” Your throat tightened, tears threatening to spill. “You left me a letter, remember? and the text message after that. 'I hope you understand,” you said, mocking his voice.

Your laughter was bitter, filled with the pain of betrayal. "You sent me away, Namjoon. I couldn't just come back after that."

"I don't know what you're talking about. I waited for you at the hotel. I called you so many times that day." he said, desperation lacing his voice. "I waited for hours and you never came. Do you really believe that I wouldn't have taken responsibility for my daughter? That I would send her away?" He was shouting now too.

And he was close, too close to you now. You could bear his presence from a distance.

But not this close.

This close to him you couldn't pretend that your heart wasn't breaking for him.

That you didn't miss his eyes.

"I don't know, Namjoon. When you have a child, a life to protect. You would do anything to keep them safe. From anyone and everything. Not that you would know any of that" The words slipped from you before you realized how low of a blow was that. But you couldn't find yourself regretting it.

"Because we both know what you would choose if it came between the group or us." You stopped and smiled at him bitterly "And I understand, Namjoon. I truly do. You were finally living the dream you sacrificed everything for. I don't blame you anymore for it."

"I understand" your voice cracked filled with sadness.

And you truly did.

You knew how much he sacrificed.

He fought for his success with teeth and nails.

They all did.

And you knew how unfair it would have been to ask for him to drop everything for you and your daughter.

You understood him.

And that was the worst of it.

In a heartbeat anger left his body, and he was filled with the weight of a shared past. Everything was too much, this was too much and again his mask fell just for you.

He lifted his hand to grab your wrist, the small contact of his skin with yours felt like fire runnig trough your veins.

"I loved you, and I always have," he confessed.

The room hung in tumultuous silence, the weight of past wounds and the rawness of the present colliding in a clash of emotions.

You were about to respond when a small knock echoed through the room.

The knock on the door startled both of you, a temporary interruption to the emotional storm that raged in the room. Your eyes never left Namjoon's, the intensity of the unspoken words lingering between you like a heavy fog.

Namjoon stepped back, breaking the physical connection between you. He cleared his throat, the diplomat persona returning, but the vulnerability in his eyes betrayed the turmoil within. "We're not done," he said, a mixture of command and plea in his voice.

As the door creaked open, your eyes darted to see a petite figure standing there, a shadow in the doorway. Hana's eyes mirrored yours, wide and uncertain as she looked between the two adults. The air thickened with tension, the past colliding with the present in a collision of conflicting emotions.

"Mommy?" Hana's innocent voice cut through the charged atmosphere. Her gaze shifted from you to Namjoon, her curiosity evident "Mr. Rapmonster. why are you here?". You took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.

Namjoon's eyes softened as he looked at Hana, and for a moment, the hardened exterior cracked. "I'm... a friend of your mommy's," he said, his words carefully chosen.

"A friend?" Hana repeated in Korean, her eyes narrowing in suspicion. She might be young, but she wasn't oblivious to the undercurrents in the room.

She was smart. Even for her age, and she was quick to understand the things that were in front of her.

Just like him.

You knelt down beside her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. "Yes, sweetheart, just a friend, and we were talking" you assured her, shooting a pointed glance at Namjoon. The distance between you felt like an unbridgeable chasm.

Namjoon, sensing the tension, attempted a reassuring smile, but it looked strained. "I heard you like drawing. Do you draw a lot?" he asked, trying to engage Hana in a conversation that felt more awkward than casual.

Hana nodded, her gaze never leaving Namjoon. "I like drawing flowers," she replied, the tension in the room momentarily diffusing as she shared a piece of her world.

Namjoon crouched down to her eye level, a genuine smile softening his features. "Flowers are beautiful. Maybe you can show me your drawings sometime?" he suggested.

Hana's eyes flickered between you and Namjoon, processing the complex dynamics in the room. "Okay, but only if Mommy says it's okay," she declared, a hint of protectiveness in her voice.

Namjoon glanced at you, seeking approval. You nodded slightly, acknowledging the silent agreement. Hana's presence had inadvertently shifted the focus, giving you a momentary reprieve from the emotional confrontation.

As Namjoon and Hana engaged in a tentative conversation about art and colors, you retreated to the periphery, watching the scene unfold.

The wounds of the past were still raw, the emotions tangled, but for Hana's sake, you found a fragile truce with the man who once held your heart.

The journey from enemies to reluctant allies had just begun, and the path ahead was uncertain, shrouded in the complexities of a shared history that demanded resolution.

"Y/N, we need to talk" Hyung-Joon reappeared at the door, his voice filled with urgency and you nodded.

You knew this shouting match with Namjoon would bring consequences.

And you felt for a second that you just stepped into the past.

"When I was drowning, that's when I could finally breathe"

💗💗💗💗💗💗 Well hello there! First of all I am so, SO grateful for all the love this story is getting. It really means the world to me. Sincerely Thank you. With that beign said I want to leave a few notes for context and clarification. 1. This is a work of fiction, even if it is inspired by real events and real people. I will take creative licenses to make the storyline make sense. So, some things will be different as it happened IRL.

💗💗💗💗💗💗 Well hello!

First of all, THANK YOU. I am so happy to see all the love this story is getting and it means the world to me. Every comment, like and repost I appreciate it from the bottom of my heart.

And now, some notes for context:

This story is inspired on real events and people. But it is not a real representation or is trying to say that any of this happened IRL. With that beign said I'll take some creative licenses and adapt things that happened to the plot of the story.

2. I fucked up.... math is not my thing guys. Hana is three years old not four. Im sorry.

3. We all want a supportive friend like Yoongi in our lives.

4. The story is written in time skips, but the main storyline is March 2021 'The present'

I'm really exited for you guys to see what's next!!

Love,

Ria. 💗💗💗💗💗💗 TAG LIST: @felicityroth @cuteipat @jjinjo @mochimommy2002 @amarawayne @canarystwin Ps. If you want to be on the tag list drop a comment below!! 👩🏼‍💻✨

#bts fanfic #bts smut #bts imagines #bts #bts au #bts namjoon #bts fic #namjoon smut #namjoon #rm #bts rm

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cheolhub · 1 year

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SUNDRESS! ⌇KIM NAMJOON ࿐

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

— PAIRING: namjoon x f!reader

— GENRE: established relationship, smut (minors dni)

— WORD COUNT: 2.45k

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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smolwritingchick · 2 months

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Smol Brainstorm/Oneshot: Just Let Me Get It Out Of My System

Words: 4,000+

Author's Note: Ok Ok do you remember when Jungkook rapped Ddaeng? When he did this and I saw it years ago this idea sparked in my head. This has some smut in it so if you're not into smut then just ignore it. I actually really liked this and hope to put it in the story when I get to that point after tweaking it once again. So here, let this hold ya!

This would take place well after JenKook are established in pleasuring each other. Both of them are confident in bed and know each other's bodies well by this point. I feel like Jennie would be a switch and once in a while act bratty at times in bed. I kind of get brat tamer vibes from this scenario. Kinda?? In this, she definitely wanted to be in control this time around but Jungkook had other plans when she drove him crazy, lol.

--------

Nah...this was not OK. Nowhere near OK.

How dare he? Does he not understand how this was making her feel?

There Jen stood on stage watching along with the rest of the members as Jungkook rapped a part of Ddaeng. Aggressively might she add. He rapped so well. Jungkook always gave it 1000%. But his appearance was beginning to distract her while she attempted to put how sexy he looked in the back of her mind.

She failed instantly.

Usually, she would not act this way about him on stage but tonight it was just something about him that was making her feel some type of way. A type of way that made her feel a familiar ache between her legs.

‘What he so loud for?’ she thought, mesmerized as she watched him.

Was it his hair? How fluffy it appeared and framed his handsome features?

She loved that he was growing it out. It gave her extra excuses to run her fingers through it. Long hair suited him well and it seemed like he wasn’t going to be cutting it, anytime soon. If not the hair, was it his voice? He sounded sexy when rapping.

‘Not the time or place, sis,’ she scolded herself, attempting to push the dirty thoughts away.

Okay, but what about his outfit? Because damn, he was looking good.

Actually, screw it. It was all of the above and again, it was not OK.

Miss Bangtan went on to turn her attention to the crowd, hyping them up with the rest of the members because of how her body was getting worked up. She needed to keep it professional and put these aroused thoughts in the back of her mind.

One thing is for sure, she was going to get this man alone, tonight. No ifs, ands, or buts. Nobody was going to ruin her impromptu dick appointment.

----------------

After the show, the members were safely dropped off at the hotel, coming off from the excitement of the fifth muster. They chatted amongst themselves about the show and what they wanted to eat.

“All right, Korean BBQ it is. Make sure you’re ready in 20.” Namjoon confirmed what they were eating for a late dinner.

“We’ll meet at the lobby,” Yoongi added as they all agreed.

On the floor where their rooms were, Jennie walked behind the guys and Jungkook walked beside her. All those dirty thoughts she had about him this evening came back as she impatiently waited for an opportunity to get him alone. Once the guys were distracted with their own conversations as they walked down the hall, Jennie firmly grabbed Jungkook's hand and began to lead him in a different direction. The direction of her room as they left the rest behind, who were oblivious of their absence.

“Babe?” Jungkook asked softly.

If only he knew how hard it was to not jump his bones right there...

When she didn't answer him, he raised an eyebrow and watched her curiously as she led him to the door of her room. The room she had all to herself after beating the members in rock, paper, scissors. Once she opened it, she let him go in first and quickly followed in. It was a master suite and Jungkook understood why the members were profoundly upset when Jennie won the game. The room was huge with a dining table, king sized bedroom, bathroom, and kitchen area.

After tossing his bag on the couch, he turned around to see Jennie tossing her room key and bag on the floor.

“What—” before he could finish his sentence, her lips crashed against his, hurriedly.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, smooching him for dear life as she held him close. Before he knew it, her tongue had eased its way to brush up against his. The heated gesture prompted him to kiss back, placing his hands on her hips. Whatever had gotten into her, he wasn't complaining.

Pulling away to breathe, her hands roamed over to his jacket, yanking it off. She then proceeded to walk him back to where the bedroom was.

Wasting no time, she lightly shoved him on the king-sized bed. She watched as his back hit the soft sheets while the sounds of his soft panting filled her ears. He looked taken aback by her behavior and prompted himself up on his elbows.

She glanced at his lap. It looked enticing with his legs spread out. Just waiting for her to take a seat. After removing his black bucket hat and tossing it aside, he watched as she stripped down to her underwear. With hungry eyes, he stared at her exposed skin, feeling his jeans getting tighter.

They're supposed to meet everyone in the lobby in less than 20 minutes, right? Well, everyone was going to have to wait.

No longer wondering what was happening, he sat up and reached out for her.

"Get over here," he demanded in a low voice, pulling her to him by the hand.

With him on the edge of the bed, she straddled him, placing her knees on each side of him. She closed the gap, kissing him again, hands roaming down his chest. She felt that a few buttons were unbuttoned from his shirt. Feeling impatient, she ripped open his shirt and the loud pop of buttons filled their ears. The buttons flew all over the floor and she quickly peeled the shirt off, tossing it away.

Cupping his face, she went in for a deep kiss, while his hands slowly roamed down her body. The sensations between her legs became prominent once she began grinding into him. The action caused Jungkook to groan softly into the kiss, gripping her hips tighter.

"Baby..." he breathed out against her lips once she moved again.

If she kept this up, he wasn't going to be able to control what he was going to do to her. Whatever her intentions were, her being in charge of this was on thin ice.

Not when she teased him like this.

The Golden Maknae definitely planned to take over soon. But for now, he allowed her to have her fun and let her believe that she would dominate tonight. Jennie moved at a slow pace, driving him crazy. The more she moved, the more she felt him hardening. Just what she wanted.

Everything she was doing with him felt good as her need for him grew. She needed him badly and already felt ready for him as her panties were soaked. They hardly did anything yet he had this effect on her. Pulling back, her lips traveled down to his neck while his breathing became more audible. He let out a few curses as she lightly nipped and sucked on his neck until she found his sweet spot.

A sharp gasp escaped her lips when he moved his hips harder against hers. It seemed like he wanted this as much as she did, meeting his lustful gaze.

“You rapping tonight was too sexy,” she spoke up. “Do you have any idea how long I’ve been waiting to get you alone? How much I’ve been wanting to ride you?”

That made him widen his eyes. Sure she topped before but he had never seen her in this state of mind after a show. He made her like this because of the way he rapped, tonight?

“Just...just let me get this out of my system and then we can meet with the guys, all right?" she proposed, with urgency in her voice. "Right now, I need you. And I need you to fuck me. Can you do that for me?”

All she wanted was a quickie. She wanted to get railed and then get ready to go out to eat.

Processing her words, Jungkook couldn’t help but chuckle and slowly lick his lips. His doe eyes darkened as he suggestively raised an eyebrow. She squirmed at the sight of the tempting smirk on his features.

He leaned over to her ear, making her shiver. "You need me that bad, huh? I can do that for you."

That's all she needed to hear as she softly bit her bottom lip and pushed him back down on the bed. He watched as she went to unbuckle his belt and unzip his pants.

"Follow my lead," she answered and she pulled his pants and boxers down.

'I'll follow your lead for now. But we're both going to know who is leading tonight when I'm done letting you have your fun,' he thought to himself as very physical ideas popped into his head.

She heard him mention that he had condoms somewhere in his bag, but she shook her head and took out one from her bra, handing it to him.

"Came prepared," she said proudly as he proceeded to put it on his length.

She was so ready to sit on him but before they could proceed, they heard her phone ringing from her pants. Annoyance briefly flashed on Jennie's face as she had a feeling who was calling.

"Answer it," Jungkook stated.

"Answer it? Are you going to stay quiet when I talk?"

"Maybe," he grinned mischievously as he sat up, getting close to her face.

"Kookie..." she warned, earning a light chuckle from him.

She reached over to her jeans while he held her so she wouldn't fall over. Back safely on his lap with her phone in her hands, she looked at the called ID. Surprisingly it was Namjoon and not Jin who called.

"Yeah?" she answered.

"Nini, you almost ready? We're downstairs waiting," his deep voice filled her ears.

"Um...go without us, we'll catch up, Namjoon," she replied while he immediately understood.

He laughed at her statement. "Okay. Don't be too long,"

"Give me the phone," she heard Jin in the background. It sounded like he snatched the phone from him as he began to ask questions. "Where in the world are you? Are you almost ready?! We're waiting!"

Before she could answer, Jungkook took the opportunity to trail light kisses around her neck, making her eyes flutter.

"Are you there, Jennie? Hello? Are you seriously ignoring World Wide Handsome Jin?"

She cleared her throat, pulling away while giving Jungkook a warning glance. He was going to get it for being this playful in a situation like this.

"...yes...I'm still here, Jin," she put an emphasis on his name as a signal to Jungkook. But he didn't care and persisted in kissing and nipping at her neck.

This little shit...

Jennie fought back the moan that threatened to escape. One wrong sound and it was over. Jungkook didn't seem to mind. He always loved a challenge and the thrill of getting caught these days.

“We're all waiting in the lobby. I want my BBQ, so hurry it up, will you?" Jin exclaimed.

Struggling not to make any sounds from what her man was doing, she stammered, “So-rry. Be down in-a-few!”

“You sound weird. Is everything okay?”

“Why wouldn’t it be?”

She should have just hung up right then and there because Jungkook began to laugh.

“Hey! Why is that troublemaker laughing? Jungkook is with you? What are you two doing?!" the oldest member demanded.

"Let's give her another five minutes. If not then she'll just meet us there. You know how she likes to take forever getting ready for things," Namjoon grabbed the phone back, trying to ease the situation for the young lovers.

She heard him end the call as she shook her head and tossed her phone on the bed.

"I can't stand you for doing that,"' she playfully scolded Jungkook.

"It's fun messing with him," he responded and pulled her in for another heated kiss.

She pushed him back down to continue where they had stopped.

"We don't need much foreplay, I'm already ready for you," she admitted, biting her bottom lip softly.

“Yeah, I can feel it. All this from me rapping? I'll make sure to do it again,” he looked pleased to be the one to get her like this.

"You might have to," she said before letting out a sharp gasp when she slowly sat down on his length.

She let out a curse and used his chest for support. When he felt her sit down, he let out a breathy moan and threw his head back. She felt so good around him. Something he'll never get enough of.

"Go slow for me," he directed. "I want to see you enjoy yourself,"

He knew how much she wanted to go fast to get a quick release. The whole point was to have a quickie but he wanted to take it slow first. Regardless, he was going to make it worth it.

His statement made her feel flushed. Over the past few years, his confidence in their intimacy has grown with patience and communication. And he had always made her feel sexy. This time was no exception.

At a slow pace, she moved up and down, closing her eyes in bliss. It had been a while since she topped and she almost forgot how good it felt as soft moans fell from her lips. Jungkook watched in delight as her face scrunched up in pleasure, enjoying the view. After a while, she had found a steady rhythm, bouncing on him, sensually. He was captivated by her. A gorgeous view all to himself. His warm hands roamed around her body as he gazed intently into her eyes.

"That's it...keep going. You look beautiful like this," he admired her.

His hands wandered around her chest. The yellow set she had on complimented her dark skin and he contemplated ripping it off and flipping her over. Finally joining in, he gripped her hips to guide her. As he lifted his hips up, he guided her down to meet his. The movement caused her to whimper his name loudly and he slightly increased the pace.

"You always take me so well,” he praised.

His words made her involuntarily clench around him and he let out a loud moan, slowing down his movements. The way he sounded made her squirm. It was so sexy, she wanted to hear it again. Jungkook, however, was about to snap and gave her a dark, sensuous gaze.

"Jennie...if you do that again, you're going to be in trouble," he warned with a growl.

Did he just...growl underneath her? That sounded even hotter.

"Am I?" she asked innocently.

"Try me,"

She was amused to see him like this. He was the one who messed with her first when she was on the phone, so why not have a little payback?

Jen had no clue what she was in for because Jungkook was always unpredictable in and out of the bedroom. But she took a chance and chose to be hard-headed as she clenched around him again.

Jungkook growled out a loud curse and swiftly sat up, taking her by surprise. Having enough, he gripped her hips and guided her up and down at a faster pace. Snapping his strong hips up against hers, he made her cry out louder than she ever had tonight. She dug her nails into his back and held onto him for dear life. He wasn't kidding when he said she would be in trouble. She was becoming undone by each deep thrust as desperate whimpers escaped her along with his heavy breaths.

"Are you close?" he asked, picking up the pace as he loved how she responded to him.

"Fuck...J-J..." she whined.

She felt herself getting close, feeling an overwhelming amount of pleasure.

"Does it feel too good? You don't want me to stop, do you?" he teased.

She couldn't speak as she shook her head.

"Use your words, baby girl," he demanded.

"N-no, don't st-op-ah!"

Feeling her high approaching, the ecstasy of his thrusts began to make her squirm. It felt so good. So good. But she felt like she wasn't going to be able to withstand it any longer. Jungkook felt her writhe and try to get out of his grip while he proceeded to make her into a moaning mess with his hips.

"Mm-mm," he shook his head and enveloped his arms around her waist firmly. "Remember what you asked for. Isn't this what you wanted?"

He wanted to put her pleasure first and she was going to take it.

"You're not getting off of me until you're fully satisfied," he said as she clung onto him again, scratching his back.

It boosted his pride to see and hear her like this. He knew he was doing his job right, giving her what she wanted.

"You can do it," he encouraged as he felt that she was going to release any moment. "You can handle it. Just let go, baby. Let go for me,"

That was all she needed to hear as she cried out his name, release washing over her. Jennie's body trembled fiercely from how strong her high was because of him. Jungkook's release followed as a low moan escaped him, slowing down his movements. While he stopped thrusting, breathing heavily against her neck, he noticed her body was still shuddering. All because of him and it was a spectacle he wanted to see more often if he could do what he just did again.

"Good girl..." he praised as he felt her shakes come to an end.

Once their breathing slowed down, she let a low chuckle, murmuring, "Shit..."

She had to take a moment to recollect herself. Fucked up was an understatement but she was well pleased. She never had such an intensified release like this. No matter how much she scratched and pulled his hair, he wouldn't let up and got her to this state. Moving away from his neck, she went in to kiss him, taking in the moment. Gosh, she loved him.

Taking a look at her, Jungkook regarded her cheeks looking wet. Had she been crying? The pleasure felt so good she had shed some tears.

"You okay?" he asked tenderly, wiping her tears with his thumb.

“Mm-hm. I feel great thanks to you. I just hope I can walk," she lightly joked.

"I'll carry you if you can't," he grinned.

"How will we explain that to the guys?"

"You hit your leg on the table of your suite," he suggested, making her chuckle.

"What about you? Are you okay?” she brushed his hair back that was sticking to his forehead.

“I am now that you’re feeling good. Remind me to rap more often to get you like this,"

She got off of him and felt that her legs were a bit wobbly but she managed to walk. Glancing at the floor, she noticed the buttons of his shirt scattered around.

“Oh no,” she said, embarrassed, "I did it again! I should really stop doing that so I won't have to keep buying you shirts to replace the ones I rip,"

She had a bad track record of ripping some of his shirts when they got too passionate.

“Don’t worry about it," Jungkook smiled in reassurance after he threw away the condom. "I love it when you do it. Let's shower,"

"All right. And we need to think of an alibi. I'm thinking this time we can be late because we were shopping for snacks at a store. I'll buy extra snacks for Jin. You know once he sees them, he forgets about everything else,"

He grinned at the idea. "Believable. I'll get the shower ready,"

After gathering the outfit she was going to wear, Jennie went to meet Jungkook in the bathroom and noticed some of the scratches she made on his back.

"Oh gosh, your back," she pointed out, feeling a little bad.

"Hm?" he turned and checked out his back in the bathroom mirror.

A few visible scratches from their physical activity. Nothing bad at all. In fact, he liked them.

"It's a sign I did a good job," he said, feeling cocky. "I mean you were shaking because of me,"

He watched as she playfully rolled her eyes while her cheeks burned up at the thought. He was not going to forget making her tremble tonight. No way. Not the way her body reacted to him. She was not going to hear the end of it.

“How’s the water?” she asked, looking at the shower that was running.

Her shower playlist from her speaker played in the background as she awaited his response.

“Nice and ready for us,” he gestured for her to go in first after she stripped out of her bra and panties.

But when she stepped in and felt the water hit her, she yelped and jumped out.

“Jungkook! What the hell!? It’s freezing cold!”

The Golden Maknae laughed loudly at how startled she was and blocked her ongoing punches. She was so easy to mess with.

“Annoying~! Cut it out!" she laughed and changed the water setting so it could heat up.

When they got in, Jungkook continued his playful behavior.

"Oh my gosh, would you move?" she complained as he purposely blocked her way so she couldn't reach her body wash.

"What? I'm not doing anything," he replied innocently. "Oh, you're reaching for this?" he grabbed the body wash.

"Yes, give it," she reached out for it but he lifted his arm up high.

"A kiss first," he negotiated.

She gave him another glare as he puckered his lips. Closing the gap, she gave him the lip lock he wanted. When they pulled away, he smiled victoriously and handed her the body wash. They helped wash each other as the hot water relaxed their bodies. The shower was enjoyable and they danced and sang 'Done For Me' by Charlie Puth and Kehlani.

Feeling him poke her butt for the third time of their shower, she retaliated by smacking his. Her hit caused him to yelp while she giggled at his reaction. Following Jungkook rinsing off, he almost slipped which made her laugh wholeheartedly.

“Not funny!"

“That’s what you get for putting cold water on me," she stuck her tongue out at him.

After getting out of the shower and getting situated, Jennie checked her phone to see a message from Namjoon not too long ago. It was to inform her that they went on to the restaurant. At least they wouldn't be super late.

She put on a white tank top, jeans, and her Nike brand sneakers she had released. She noticed that Jungkook had coordinated with her, wearing his white shirt, Timberlands, and jeans. She placed his large black hoodie on herself, so she could stay warm if the store's air conditioning was too cool for her skin.

"And before we forget. Concealer," she remembered.

Jungkook took a seat on the toilet and watched as she placed her dark colored concealer and his on the bathroom counter. Approaching him, she went to take care of concealing his neck first so they could hide their passionate marks.

------------------

When they made it to the store, they grabbed a cart and explored the aisles.

"Okay...those chips Jin likes have to be somewhere," Jennie murmured while Jungkook pushed the cart. "Ah-ha!"

She placed two bags in the cart. "Oh, and these. Tae eats these cookies. I tried them and it's pretty good. Have you?"

"Yeah, but I've been wanting to eat your cookies, again. Can you bake soon? I can help if you want," he asked.

She smiled at the idea, "Yeah, let's do that. Might as well buy some cookie mix while we're in here,"

Fooling around, Jennie sat inside the cart, careful not to crush the snacks. She enjoyed riding in the cart while Jungkook pushed it through each aisle. Before they went to check out their items, he took out his phone to take a selfie. He held the camera up high and stood in front of the cart. He had a silly expression on his face while Jennie posed excitedly with all the snacks, holding up a few bags of chips and candy. After clicking away, he stood beside her to check out the pictures. They laughed at how silly they looked and she encouraged him to post it on Twitter.

He tweeted the photo with the caption, 'Snacks! Nom Nom Nom! #JK'

Tweets under JenKook's selfie came through at a rapid rate, with ARMY gushing over the couple.

‘Omg they’re so cute'

'You two look perfect together'

'awwwwww'

'wtf this is so cute'

'golden duo at it again'

'they look so happy'

'Jennie is in the cart hahaha'

'omg another JenKook post! Finally! We were starving!'

'This is typical JenKook energy lol'

The members, who were already seated at the restaurant and on their phones, saw the post. They began to tweet out their reactions, making ARMY laugh at their banter.

‘Are you telling me you kids have been snack shopping this entire time while we're waiting for you to eat? #Suga'

'Kekekeke. #V'

'Share! #JM'

'YOU'VE BEEN AT THE STORE ALL THIS TIME!? #Jin'

‘Hurry up so we can eat! #Jin'

‘LOL! We’re on our way, sheesh #Jen’

#smol brainstorm #smol oneshot #jungkook smut #jungkook x black oc #jungkook scenarios #bts 8th member #jungkook x oc

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