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#rm x reader
effortandmore · 2 days
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isn't this more beautiful | knj x f!reader
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summary: you meet namjoon by accident. you fall for him without noticing. he slips in and out of your life at will, and you let him. but as you get closer, you start to wonder if he’ll always feel lonely, even with you by his side. or, a small story told out of order about time, loneliness, and knowing (or not) what we deserve
pairing: namjoon x f!reader
rating: explicit (18+ please)
genre: smut, angst, a lil fluff/hopeful ending
au: this is idolverse
warnings/tags: this is told asynchronously, so please know these little vignettes are not in chronological order. namjoon is a mess, but so is reader. she's an artist so there's one cliche on board already. they probably should talk more about important things but neither of them like feelings. smoking, drinking, smut, including unprotected sex, oral sex, exhibitionism, maybe like… mention of belly bulge kink, cumplay (kind of)
word count: ~6700
a/n: this is for the bts x beatles across the btuniverse collab hosted by my dearest @ugh-yoongi who also checked this for vibes. so did @the-boy-meets-evil in its early stages - thank you both!! banner + borders from @hobeemin (thank you so much!!!!). my member was namjoon (obv) and my song was eleanor rigby. idk how it really shows up in here except through vibes lol
you can find everything i write on ao3
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Namjoon talks in unanswerable questions. He calls you at hours the owls don’t even see, talks quietly even though you’re not sure who he’s afraid of disturbing.
“Do you remember Bageundae?”
“Of course I do.”
“If you pressed your body against one side of the rock, and I pressed mine to the other, could you feel me?”
What you want to say: go to sleep, Namjoonie.
What you say instead: “I can always feel you.”
“Always is a funny word,” he replies. “Maybe worse than never.”
“Maybe?”
“You never know,” he says, and you can hear the sad smile he wears even from your desk across the ocean. 
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Sometimes, when people give the retelling of how they meet their “person,” it’s all sparks and fireworks and floods and worlds being turned upside down. 
That’s not how you met Namjoon. 
You met him softly.
You met him in a lazy river current and not a waterfall.
You met him like Sunday morning sunshine sneaking through cracks in defeated curtains.
You met him and the woodwind orchestra blew a quiet processional before the brass joined in much later.
You met him with a whisper. Literally. 
“This is one of my favorites,” he said, a stranger whispering beside you. He wasn’t even talking to you—you remember being pretty sure about that. Just announcing it as an affirmation to himself and you happened to be there to be the unintentional recipient. 
Now, you know it’s probably a foreshadowing of your whole relationship. 
Then, you said, “It’s a misconception that you have to whisper in a museum. It’s not a library.” 
Namjoon didn’t even give you the sitcom satisfaction of arguing with you about it. Just gave you an affronted side eye and huffed under his breath. Crossed his arms over his chest and planted himself further into the floor, staring at the Chung Sang Hwa in front of you. 
To yourself, you rolled your eyes. It was almost like he was determined to outwait you, that there would be some satisfaction in it for him if you left for the next work on the wall before he did. 
He didn’t know (yet) that you were as or more stubborn than he was. So, you both waited. You didn’t even know what you were waiting for, just that neither of you wanted to lose. 
(And now look at you.)
It was near closing time on a weekday, and all of the special exhibits were crowded earlier, but the permanent collections were easy to be alone in. You were almost wishing someone else would walk in. Minutes passed, neither of you moved. In your periphery, you saw Namjoon stealing glances at you when he (presumably) thought you wouldn’t notice. 
Finally, “This isn’t going to be some naver post later, is it?” 
You were annoyed, not blind. You knew exactly who he was (or did you, you wonder now)—everyone in this country knew, his picture plastered over billboards and bus stops. 
“Which story? BTS RM, weirdly stubborn art jerk, won’t walk away from painting first? Or, BTS RM casually checked me out at a gallery when he thought I wasn’t looking?” You didn’t look over at him, just raised your eyebrow in a challenge. 
“Don’t flatter yourself.” 
“So, you prefer the ‘jerk’ narrative?”
“I prefer to be left alone.” 
And you still don’t know why you said what you said after that, as you turned to face him for the first time since he walked up next to you. “You probably don’t get that very often. Alone time.”
Namjoon looked back at you then, and it still wasn’t butterflies or choruses of angels. Instead, he just looked surprised and a little sad. “I don’t.” 
“I’m sorry,” you replied. And you found that you meant it.
“Do you ever wonder,” Namjoon said, and again, you didn’t know if it was to you or to himself, “how it is you can be surrounded by people and still feel profoundly lonely?”
You hadn’t. But you still thought you understood what he meant. “No, but it makes sense that you would.”
Namjoon laughed then, maybe a little bitter, maybe just nervous. “I shouldn’t be talking to you about this,” he said. 
“And yet…”
“And yet,” he agreed with a small nod. 
The two of you were quiet again then, but not in a stand-off anymore. Behind you, you knew his manager was fidgeting, worrying that something was off. That you’d reveal yourself to be some sort of wild stalker or obsessed fan. 
“It’s not personal,” Namjoon offered, like he could already read your mind. 
“I know,” you conceded. 
You started to walk away, ready to see a different painting, ready to not feel like you were doing something wrong by incidentally being in the same room as someone famous, when Namjoon stopped you. “He wanted to paint heartbeats, to give them a language, to let people see what all the emotions that fuel our hearts would look like,” he said. “Do you think it worked?”
Next to this person that you didn’t know but somehow you thought you might understand anyway, you nodded.
Next to Namjoon in a room so quiet you were sure you could hear the steady thrum of your heartbeat (or his, or both beating at the same time), you nodded.
Next to him, who you didn’t yet know would become Him, you nodded.
“Yeah,” you said gracelessly. 
“Can you see it?” Namjoon asked. 
“Which one?” you countered.
He shrugged, not breaking eye contact. “Aren’t love and hate and pain and pleasure all the same at the end of the day?”
Eventually, he will teach you that they are.
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It starts with phone calls.
(Sometimes it seems it might end with one, too.)
Namjoon speaks like the shallow pools of blended color on a painter’s well-loved palate. There is no certainty. He uses gray words like “sometimes,” and purple ones like “maybe,” and the soft peach “don’t you think?” 
“Morning, Namjoon-ssi,” you hum into the air, hoping you’re close enough to the microphone that you don’t have to shout. 
“What if we were in Florence?” he asks in return. 
“Then I would still be asleep, or you would be getting smothered with a pillow for waking me up.”
He laughs, not the bright one you know he saves for when there’s an audience, but a small one that bubbles up from his chest with a deep timbre. “So, in Florence, you and I are in bed together?” 
You sigh into your (not Italian) pillow. 
“Good morning,” he adds. “Can we speak informally?”
Your sigh turns into a smile you hadn’t asked for. “Yeah.”
“Good.” 
You’ve been speaking for weeks. Namjoon is busy, you are not (at least, not in the same way, not to the same magnitude). You make a space for him in your life with much less consideration than you usually use with others. Or, maybe he just takes it. 
“What are your plans for the weekend?” he asks. 
“Same thing as all the other weekends.” 
“Can I watch this time?” 
“It’s boring.” 
Namjoon pauses. “Does it bore you?” 
“No, it’s what I love.” 
“Then,” he says, in what you think is probably his typical fashion (at least with you, it is), “I think I might find it easy to love, too.” 
“Oh, Namjoonie,” you tease, “I’m starting to think you find everything easy to love.” 
He doesn’t say anything for a long time. This is a thing you’ve noticed about him. He’s serious in a flash. He’s jokes and teasing and talking to you about what ifs and what nots until suddenly he is very determined that he should say something meaningful. Or very convinced that you have. 
“I want to,” he says. “I want my heart to be more full than my mind. It’s hard.” 
“I know,” you say, even though for you, it’s not. 
“I’m glad you don’t,” he says earnestly.
“Come see me on Saturday,” you say, deflecting. You can do this for him, you think. You haven’t seen him since the museum, but you’ve seen the pastel splashes of his words, the geometric lines of his heart, the post-modern dilemma he thinks he carries down deep. You’ve seen the important things, so you know you can give him the distraction he doesn’t know he needs. 
“I think I will.” 
You hang up in black and white. 
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Namjoon fucks like a surrealist. Shifts your body until you’re still recognizable in the mirror, but fundamentally different, too. 
Pulls your hips up too high: Ernst. 
Makes butterflies soar out of your mouth, gusty with your labored breath: Magritte. 
Fucks you cross-eyed, spit dripping hourglass slow from your lips: Dali. 
You thought he would be a talker, like he is on the phone. Thought he’d try and work through the freightliner of thoughts steaming through his brain. But Namjoon is all breath and whispers and sighs and moans and fragments of the pretty words he used to get you like this: bent over your worktable, chest smeared into cadmium red and titanium white. He talks, but it's oil paint instead of watercolor this time: thick and precise. 
“Fuck, you look perfect like this,” he says, voice a little dreamy, slapping another pink-paint handprint onto your ass. You’re never going to get it scrubbed off your skin.
It makes you laugh, breathy and high. 
You came first (and second) on his tongue. Told you to keep painting while he got underneath you, pretty on his knees, honest and plain telling you he wanted you.
“Want to see what art tastes like,” he said, cotton soft breath on your thigh. 
“Silly,” you replied. “Does anyone fall for lines like that?”
“Doesn’t matter, don’t want you to fall. I told you to keep standing.” He’s smug when he licks across your core, startling you. 
It went like that until your hand was shaking and the thick outlines around nameless figures on the canvas shook with you. 
“Pretty painter, taste as good as you look,” he paused to say. You moaned when he fucked his tongue into you, clenched around it, wanted to be greedy, wanted more, wanted everything. “Sound even better,” he added, chin slick, eyes sparkling. 
After you came, he didn’t stop. When your paintbrush fell to the ground, he doubled his efforts, two fingers sliding inside of you while he sucked your sensitive clit between his lips. “Come on, baby,” he said, “I know you have another one for me.” 
Your hand gripped his hair instead of your brush, you chased the overstimulation instead of wriggling away. It felt right, somehow, to just take what you want, and Namjoon didn’t seem to mind. Moaned into your cunt when you fucked his face, holding him in place while your hips moved. A muffled, “fuck, please baby,” into your skin when you pulled his hair just to see what it would feel like. Lips curved into a grin when you rocked against him through your second orgasm. 
And now, he reaps the benefits of his efforts. You’re pliant beneath him, fucked out and pleased, easy and eager as he slides his thick cock in and out. You watch him carefully in the mirror, you see his focus on where he thrusts inside of you, his awe when you clench around him and pull him just a little farther in. You see him grin when he slaps you, telling you he knows you’re watching, asking if you want more. “A greedy little thing,” he breathes. “Think you want more? Think you want me to fuck you harder, want my cock in you so deep you can feel it in your stomach?”
You feel stupid with it, nodding in agreement, mouth open and drooling onto your worktable while he fucks you to a third orgasm. 
“You fuck me so good. Such a big dick, gonna feel you all week, Namjoonah.” 
“You should paint this,” he says, slowing his thrusts. “No one’s ever looked as good as you do taking my cock.” 
“No one?” you ask, suddenly a little desperate for the praise.
Namjoon bends to kiss the back of your neck, lets his lips mark a pathway down your spine that his fingertips follow. He’s so deep inside of you, hips grinding slow against your skin. When he reaches your waist, he grips and pulls you into him even closer. 
The space between you (barely there to begin with) bends to his will: Carrington. 
“Nobody, baby,” he whispers his first certainty to you, fingertips teasing between your thighs now, careful where you’re still too sensitive, but wordlessly asking you to give in, to give more. 
“I’ll give you anything,” you say in response to a question you don’t think he’ll ask as he starts to circle your clit, pulls almost all the way out of you and fucks back in harder than before.
“You’ll take even more,” he says, and he comes inside of you, hips stuttering unsure, a bassline under the clear melody of his words. 
Lazy, you lie face up together on discarded canvas, forgotten starting points of ideas you hadn’t intended to complete. Unabashed, you have a knee up so your thighs don’t tack together with the mess you’ve made. Namjoon talks about nothing, blows smoke in halos above your heads and offers you the cigarette careful between his long fingers. You don’t smoke, but you hold it anyway, watching him, carding the fingers of your free hand through his hair as he stares at his cum leaking out of you, catches it on the tender part of your thigh and wipes swirls and squares onto the canvas around you. 
He finishes the thoughts you began before you even knew him.
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“Tell me a story,” you whisper roughly into the air, hoping he can hear you through your shitty phone microphone. 
It’s early, that sacred pre-dawn you save for yourself (and now, somehow, for him)  and you’ve woken up from a shitty sleep and a worse dream and couldn’t stop yourself from calling him back when you saw you’d already missed a call from him. 
“It’s late, baby.” 
You let out a puff of breath, Namjoon laughs almost silently at you. 
“Please?”
“You don’t like books,” he says, almost a tease. It’s true. You like them conceptually, but you told him you don’t feel like you have the patience sometimes. That you want to give them energy you don’t have.
“But I like stories.” 
“FIne.” Even his sigh is fond. You like him like this so much—easy, willing, teasing but still giving in eventually. 
You fall asleep fast, the first words you hear are the last. “Once upon a time…” When you wake up, you have messages from him. A whole lot of them, a whole story written out in your Katalk chat. A love story, sort of, one where they’re star-crossed and destined but always just a little too far apart. It ends with a “maybe” instead of a “happily ever after.” You don’t even let yourself think about that too much—it’s perfectly him—a little drama for the sake of it, a little sadness to make the joy feel better.
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Your world is tiny. A firefly in a sky full of bold, bright stars. It is you, in your studio, alone. It is you with your friends, it is you getting a cat so you have someone to talk to when your friends aren’t around. 
For Namjoon, it expands. A firefly to a star to a burning red giant. 
Still, it feels small when you’re inside of it. It’s you with your friends, it’s you with Namjoon in your studio, it’s Namjoon gently stroking your cat’s fur while he talks to himself and you paint. 
It’s difficult to describe, but when you’re with him, you either have his full attention to the extent it’s overwhelming, or he seemingly pays no attention to you or what you’re doing. Just works on whatever he’s working on while you paint, speaking to you because he knows you won’t answer. 
On one of the nights when you’re together (but not at all), you finally ask. He’d let himself in around two in the morning and kissed the top of your head before he put headphones in and stuck his face into his notebook on the other side of the room. He likes to sit by the window so he can crack it open and blow his smoke out of it instead of into the room. 
“Why’d you come tonight?” 
“I wanted to be near you.” 
“I don’t think you’ve even looked at me.” It’s not an accusation, just an observation. You like that Namjoon will know the difference, you like that he’s hard to offend, and doesn't mind when you speak plainly. Gives you plain answers in return (usually). You stick the small paint brush you’ve been using sideways in your mouth and grab a larger one.
“Baby, you’re all I can see lately,” he says, staring at the trails of smoke curling around the outside of the window pane. 
You laugh around the red-tipped paint brush you’re biting down on, a pause for the cadmium to add a little white to the edges. Namjoon looks over then, snaps a picture of you with your eyes crinkled and your head thrown back, red oil threatening to drip like blood. 
“Beautiful,” he says, looking at the picture before he goes back to writing.
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There are more phone calls every time he travels for work. It’s the same routine. He texts you a photo of something he’s seen that he liked, and when you respond, whether it’s five minutes later or five hours, he asks if he can call you. 
Sometimes they’re quiet, simple recountings of the things that have happened in his day or are about to happen in the next (timezone dependent), sometimes they’re ranting about the industry and the pressure and how he never thought about time until he realized he was running out of it. Sometimes he’s worked up in a different way, wants to see your face in pixelated halos while he comes on his own stomach, alone in a hotel room far away. 
All of this, you let him take. It’s not completely sacrificial, by any means. You like to hear him talk, better than any podcast you’ve ever heard. You like to know what he sees—he’s touched parts of the globe you could only dream about seeing. You like that he never makes it complicated. 
Never promises to take you there one day, never says he wishes you were with him.
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You’ve been fucking in secret for a while when Namjoon wants you to meet his friends. 
“Why?” you ask. 
“Because I want you to see me, too,” he says. Simple and complicated at the same time. You’re afraid to ask why again, not sure if you want to know the answer. This is sex. It’s incredible sex that happens far more often than you thought he’d be able to make time for. 
He shows up at your studio at odd hours of the morning (or is it still night?) and talks to you about all the frivolous things while you take each other apart. Rambles about Murakami while he fucks you, tells you about a Youngkuk he saw while you swallow his dick. Naked and sprawled amongst your paint and mess and half-done work leaning against the walls, he tells you a little about his work, too. Asks you about a painting he’d seen you working on—diligently adding splashes of blue, tells you about a song he wants to do the same thing to somehow. Asks you uselessly if color and sound are the same thing if you think about them too hard.
They are. It’s a thing you both know that you don’t think many others do. It’s one thing he’s sure about. You think he only likes you because you’re sure about it, too. 
It’s incredible sex and pretty good conversations that happen at what most people probably think are strange times, but it’s not more than that. You can’t afford to get your heart confused, and he can’t afford to give you anything other than exactly what he’s giving. 
(He can’t afford to give you what he does, but he tells you there’s no reward without risk. 
“Am I the reward, then?” you tease. 
Namjoon never answers you.)
But you don’t tell him no. You think this is a bargain you can make with your heart, you can ask it for temperance while you do this thing he wants, you can meet the people who are truly important to him without convincing yourself you’re counted amongst them. You can try, anyway.
So, on a rooftop in Hannam-dong, you sip whisky with a photographer friend of Namjoon’s while he stands behind you, an arm wrapped around your waist, and alternates between sucking bruises into your neck and smoke into his lungs. 
“How’d you meet?” the photographer asks. 
“Hoam,” Namjoon replies into your skin. “She picked a fight.”
You laugh, he laughs, the photographer laughs. It’s carefree and light—your laugh, your thoughts, your skin under Namjoon’s wandering lips. Your heart is holding up its end of the deal, you don’t feel anything but pleased to be there, pleased to have his attention again (still). 
“Our Namjoonie likes a challenge,” his friend says. 
“Our Namjoonie is a challenge,” you tease.
Namjoon nips at the thin skin between your neck and shoulder in retaliation (or to prove your point, you’re not sure). You yelp, turn in his arms, see him smirking before he goes to take another drag. Swiftly, you pluck the cigarette out from between his lips, stamping it out on the cement. 
“Baby,” he whines, looking down where the cigarette is brown and white dust under your sneaker. 
“Better things to do with your mouth,” you retort, pressing up onto your tiptoes and pulling his bottom lip between your teeth. 
His mouth is ashy and yours tastes like peet, you’re sure. It’s filthy and a little cheap even though the cigarettes and the whisky and the lip balm he always wears were all expensive. Namjoon kisses like he does everything else: completely single-minded, treating the soft curves where your mouths meet as if they’re the edges of the world. 
You walk him a step back until he’s flush against the wall and lean into him again, pressing your bodies together hard and your lips together plush. He’s hard in his joggers and it’s every last piece of self-control you have to not sneak your hand under his waistband and tease him until he’s leaking and begging to get inside you. 
It wouldn’t take much. 
Takes a lot out of you to not drop to your knees and choke on his cock where everyone can see, where everyone would know for sure for sure for certain that he’s chosen you for this for now for some reason. To not make him moan around your name while he comes down your throat, a different kind of concert. 
Your hands stay in appropriate places while your lips beg for more. 
He was right, something he said the first time you hooked up: you are greedy for him. But he’s just as bad for you, begging in your ear for you to let him take you home, for you to let him fuck you right here so everyone knows you’re his (right now, in only this way, for some reason that neither of you are willing to speak into existence). 
You give in, no cares about who sees, it’s safe here with friends who would never betray him. You feel ever weightless against his body, whispering, “Yes, come on Joonie,” you say. “Need your cock. Need you.” 
(Briefly, it occurs to you that those sentences mean two completely different things, that they’re both true, and that either it’s Namjoon choosing to ignore the odd, heavy weight of the second one or you both are.)
You’re halfway out the door before you remember you were in the middle of a conversation. 
You don’t notice his friends whispering. 
You don’t notice his manager rolling his eyes. 
You don’t notice the way Namjoon looks at you when he knows you’re not looking back.
And you surely don’t let yourself notice that both of you want more than you’re willing to give in return.
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“Can you come over?” he asks, but it doesn’t quite come out like a question. 
“I’m working, maybe a different time?” 
It’s abundantly clear he hadn’t expected you to say no. He’s silent on the other end of the line for a moment before he lets out an aborted sigh. 
“You can work whenever you want.”
Before you realize he’s serious, you laugh. “Yeah, and now is when I want to. You know how it is to get inspired.” 
Namjoon huffs. “I’d still make time for you.” 
It’s almost more absurd than the sentence before it. First, you know from firsthand experience that he wouldn’t, not really. Your “relationship”—or whatever you’re (not) calling it—revolves almost entirely around his schedule. And that’s fine with you, usually. It was expected, anyway. You don’t exactly drop everything to see him, but you haven’t been the best at keeping plans with the other people in your life, either. You don’t blame him for it, it’s just how things are, and it’s your own fault (at least partially) for bailing on your friends to “chase dick” as they so delicately put it. The second point is that you wouldn’t ask him to. If you don’t ask him to change for you, if you don’t need him to bend, then you never have to stop to ask yourself what the two of you are even doing. 
As the static of the connection is drawn out like a fermata with neither of you willing to break it, you wonder if this is your panoply, the armor you don, one of the ways you’ve been protecting your own heart without realizing it. 
“I wouldn’t ask you to,” you say, repeating it to yourself, admitting it to him. 
“I know,” Namjoon agrees, but he sounds disappointed instead of conciliatory. 
“I have to go.” 
“Sure,” he says quietly before he ends the call. “Let me know when you have time.”
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Namjoon is obsessed with time. 
How much is left. 
How much has passed. 
How much until the next thing. 
How much he’s wasted. 
You think this is because he puts a deadline to his regret, says things like, “It’s been a year, I can’t worry about it anymore.” 
It’s hard not to wonder what schedule he’s given whatever this thing is between you. Are you still regrettable? Is there a space between regrettable and forgettable you can build shelter in? 
It makes him fill his time. He’s always doing something, likes to feel productive. Holds himself to an unspoken standard that you’re not even sure he could articulate if he needed to. He gets antsy when he has to relax, twitches and fidgets and fills the space with words. 
Sometimes, after sex when you’re quiet and lax and content to just sit with him, he uses the time to write. He sits tall up in your bed and holds his notebook above your head where it rests in his lap. He says you help him organize his thoughts, says having you to bounce things off of gives him clarity, says you think of words like colors like he does and you know how he likes to paint. Says he gets his best work done in this time in between pleasure and sleep. 
He hums to himself while he writes—you don’t even know if he knows he does it. Sometimes, it wakes you up from where you didn’t know you’d fallen asleep on top of him. 
“Is it morning yet?” you slur, still mostly asleep. 
“Relax, baby,” he whispers when you stir. “We’ve got time.” 
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You don’t break up, because there’s nothing tangible to break. It’s a quiet thing, without dramatics, but oh how you grieve. 
It’s not linear. You’re not in a predictable pattern of feeling. One morning he doesn’t call, and you don’t even notice, but another makes you sob quietly in the corner of your studio, curled up under the window where he used to sit, like you can fuse yourself with the ghost of him. 
There are days when it’s easier, days when it’s difficult. When you mourn the way the curve of his bicep felt under your fingertips or the future you never considered until it wasn’t an option anymore. 
(You still don’t know if it ever was an option, but that’s the tricky thing—you can grieve for the things you had and also for those you didn’t. No one can stop you, Namjoon’s not there to pull you back to reality. He was never very good at that anyway.)
Some days, you wonder if he grieves, too. It would be easy to read interviews and read into things, it would be easy to assume every word, look, gesture is a window into his mind, but you try not to do that to yourself, try not to do it to him. 
At four in the morning on a Saturday, when days without him have long turned into weeks, you mindlessly scroll through your phone, idly wondering what he might be doing at this time when he used to be with you.
“The quiet hours are all for us,” he would whisper into your skin, no distractions, no demands. 
Those hours are infinitely louder in your mind without him there. So, you distract yourself, you look at every app and you get lost in reels and tiktoks and tweets and then you go back to instagram to see his story is updated. And you think twice before you do it, but you still click on it, curious and heartbroken and a little bit hoping he’s not already found someone new to spend daybreak with. 
It’s just a song, an old one, a sad one. Text he added in small font across the bottom: 
“Grief is love persevering,” he says.
In your corner, under the window, you cry over the silly quote for the both of you.
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“Do you know about alpine sunflowers?” 
You laugh as you put your phone on speaker and set it down next to you. You’re not laughing at him, and he knows it—you’re full of a particular fondness you only feel for him, one you especially feel when he’s thousands of miles away, busier than busy and running on no sleep, but still calling you to bullshit. 
“No, tell me about them.” 
“Okay,” he says, voice pitched up, a little excited, like he’s sitting up straighter and getting ready to tell you something wonderful. “So, they only grow high up in the alpine tundra. The Swiss Alps, the Rockies, you know what I mean?” 
“What about the French Alps?” you tease.
Namjoon huffs. “There too, jagiya, but you’re missing the point.” 
“Okay, make me see it, then.” 
“I will if you’ll stop teasing.” 
You do stop, not because he’s making an impeccable argument, but because he’s always going somewhere with things like this, and without realizing it, you’ve stumbled into a reality where you’d follow him anywhere. 
“They grow slowly. ‘Cause of the snow and the subzero temperatures and the fact that there’s just not much up there for them. They take their time, you see?”
You’re starting to, your paintbrush dipping into a dusty yellow to test in a small corner of your canvas. You nod, forgetting he’s not there in the room with you, that you should speak if you actually want to answer him. He doesn’t care if you do or not, you know, not until he gets to the punchline, and sometimes not even then. 
On the other end of the line, you hear him suck in a breath before he continues. “They save up everything: the sunlight and the water and they hoard it all. They're selfish little things, baby. Just these spindly stalks of nothing sucking up everything good out of the Earth.”
“Hmm,” you murmur so he knows you’re with him. 
“But then, and this is the best part, then one day, after ten fucking years if you can believe that—after ten years do you know what happens?”
“Climate change?”
Namjoon ignores you now in favor of finishing his story. It’s fair enough, you suppose. “They bloom. Big and beautiful, brighter than all the other sunflowers like an explosion of little suns across the mountains.”
“That sounds beautiful,” you reply. 
And you know what Namjoon is thinking. That their beauty comes at a cost, that he hasn’t quite untangled yet whether he loves those stupid flowers for taking what they need and becoming something incredible or if he despises them for waiting so long to do it, for keeping something so lovely to themselves. It’s not what he says, though. As you paint something that might be tangling green vines of selfish sunflowers across gesso, he surprises you. 
“I wonder if in all relationships, someone is the sunflower and someone is the mountain.”
You can’t help but pause, because he might be right. One of you might take something from the other to become more beautiful, one of you might give up everything to be made more whole by the other, if even for a moment. 
“Maybe they are,” you agree. 
“You know what happens after the alpine sunflower blooms?” he asks, voice softer now, more tired as night turns into morning where he is. 
“What happens, Joon-ah?”
Namjoon sighs into the phone, the mood has changed since he called you—and this isn’t unusual. He can be ebullient and he’s gorgeous when he’s happy and carefree, but it changes quickly sometimes depending on the circumstances, depending on how much he’s let himself think, how much time he’s spent alone. 
“They die. They do all of that and they work hard for so long, and then they’re gone.” 
Carefully, you ask, “You want to be the mountain, then?” 
In the background, you can hear the rustle of sheets and the careful clacking of his glasses hitting the bedside table. He yawns, and you can picture the way he’s rubbing his palms over his face, pulling his shirt off before he dives all the way under the duvet, probably taking advantage of being alone to take up all the space he possibly can in the big hotel bed. He sounds half-asleep and sad when he finally answers you. 
“No, I don’t think so.” 
“Why not?” You put your brush down, stare at the small mess you’ve made. 
“The mountain has it worse, she can only watch them go.”
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He is everywhere, even when he’s not. 
There are the obvious things: the ads with his face, the gum and coffee and candy with his picture on them, the music, his lyrics, playing in cafes and bars and pages and pages of his songs in every noraebang. 
There are the private things, too. The reminders that are just for you.
You see him in the way the leaves change: reliable but not predictable. 
You smell him after it rains, when you pass by cafes and smoking rooms and when you take the train to Yeosu just to remember the way the saltwater can make the air sting. You hear him every time you hear the train sail into the station at Yongsan and when you hear the river gently shove against its banks. 
It’s a couple months after you meet him, and along that river, you walk a less-loved path. With all the words you know, you explain all that to a friend, one you’ve known a long time, who doesn’t know who you’re talking about as you try to describe the person who’s taken up all of your time and attention lately. 
Because you can’t tell her anything about him, you tell her these things instead and you hope it’s enough for her to understand. 
And maybe she does, maybe better than you do. 
“Does that make sense?” you ask. “It’s hard to explain how much he is.” 
“To you,” she says. “He’s that much to you.” 
You hadn’t even considered that he wasn’t all of those things to everyone. It never even crossed your mind. It’s probably apparent that you’re mulling it over, trying to true it up with how you feel. 
She shrugs with one shoulder and smiles, brings a finger up to smooth the wrinkle in your brow.  “Don’t think about it too hard, yeah? Love is supposed to be simple.” 
Those two words had always each seemed so big to you, to carry so much power on their own. It’s the first time you let yourself consider putting the words Namjoon and Love in the same sentence. 
And in that moment, you know that if Namjoon is the changing leaf, you are the one that falls.
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“Do you love me?” you ask—afraid to know the answer, more afraid of never knowing. You stare at unfinished bunches of sunflowers and handprints of pink and white borders that never got filled in. All of it undone, all of it paused. Abstracts in stop-motion waiting for… him to come back? You to get your shit together? Inspiration? What’s the difference, anyway, you think while you wait for him to speak. 
He doesn’t answer right away, hums a little, clicks his tongue, things you can sense more than you can hear. It’s a rude way to start a phone call, especially when you haven’t spoken in a long time, especially when you’re not each other's to love. 
Not anymore. 
Not that you know if you ever were. 
You need to know, you think. Questioning whether all of it even mattered is making you worse off than thinking it didn’t. Listening to him tell foreign interviewers he’s had a rough year, lost something great, was finding it hard to trust—himself, others—you, your brain supplies… it’s making you feel a little wild, a little reckless. 
One drink past good decisions, you call, and when he answers unexpectedly, you forgo “hello” for “do you love me?” 
You wait, expecting exasperation, complication, maybe a long and drawn out description of how maybe people can never know if they’re in love, if they have the capacity to love completely. 
And then he surprises you. 
“Of course I do,” he says, sounding soft and a little scared and more definitive than you’ve ever heard him. “You know that.” 
“I didn’t,” you reply. Not to be argumentative, but because it’s true. Because you love him and you want him to be happy and you know he’ll never get it right if he thinks what he gave you was enough. 
“I don’t think I knew then, either,” he concedes. “But I wish I had. I do now.” 
“I miss you.” 
“I know. But you did then, too.” 
The laugh you let out is wry and wet with your tears, the ones you’re shedding for the you that did miss him even then, even when he was by your side, even when he was buried inside of you. “I’m lonely,” is what you say, too honest. 
“I know. I am, too.” 
There’s nothing to say to that, you think. Maybe this is where it really ends, a torn-open wound for both of you—you’ll paint it all in vivid acrylics, probably never finish it just to be ironic. And then Namjoon adds, “Can I come over?”
You reply quickly, a taste of his own medicine. “Maybe,” you say. 
You should have never left, you mean. 
He laughs then, watercolor yellow and orange joy dripping over the phone line. It’s bright and hopeful—you listen to him shrugging on a jacket and swearing out a curse when he runs into his dresser, rushing to get to you, scrambling for time—and it makes you decide that for once, with him by your side, you might finish the picture.
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perfectlyoongi · 1 day
Text
PRE-BOYFRIEND!NAMJOON who tells you in detail about his days, a loving smile beautifying his lips. it didn't matter if he was in practice, creating art or in another country, Namjoon always found time to write tender words about his day and how he only thought about telling you every detail. “i’m going to have lunch now. the rehearsal went well. but i confess that i only thought about how you cheer for me when i perform.”
PRE-BOYFRIEND!NAMJOON who looks for new museums and exhibitions to make you see and love some art. even though he was passionate about art, Namjoon couldn't deny that his eyes always wandered to your curious and lively figure, pure devotion and admiration shining brightly in Namjoon's smile and eyes. “sorry, i was a little distracted today. i couldn’t help but notice that your soul is the most beautiful work of art ever created.”
PRE-BOYFRIEND!NAMJOON who starts writing his feelings about you in a small black notebook. illegible handwriting and loose thoughts decorated Namjoon's book, his lips drawing a perfect curve as he thought about how you would react when he completed the notebook and gave it to you as a gift. “here, a little of me. a little of my soul. a side of me that is only safe with you.”
PRE-BOYFRIEND!NAMJOON who likes it when you surprise him at concerts, smile so big that it almost consumed his entire face. it was something insignificant for many, something so small and just ‘good’, but for Namjoon, you lit up the whole place and eased all his nerves and fears. “thank you. thank you. thank you. i can't say thank you enough. you can’t even imagine how much my heart needed to see you.”
PRE-BOYFRIEND!NAMJOON who knows how you like to drink your coffee or tea and always knows what sweets you prefer to eat on more aggressive days. it didn't take long for Namjoon to memorize your drink order, your favorite cakes coming up so easily that it was impossible for him not to remember something you liked. “you seemed a little down. i just had to bring what you needed. it's the least i can do.”
PRE-BOYFRIEND!NAMJOON who liked to be seen with you, feeling proud of all the looks men gave you. yes, you were with him, next to him, laughing at his jokes, talking to him — Namjoon's eyes shone when he realized the envy that others felt for seeing you so happy next to him. “what? i just find it amusing seeing so many men looking at you and knowing that you only focus on me. it makes me feel good.”
PRE-BOYFRIEND!NAMJOON who knew from an early time that it was love, and showed his devotion to you in every word spoken to you. ethereal poems escaped Namjoon's lips when the two of you shared the night, shy glances and passionate smiles, eternal promises to be sealed amid caresses. “our history will forever be remembered. written in the stars and recited by the gods. our love will not be forgotten.”
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rroseselavyyy · 15 hours
Text
love me more - knj
pairing: namjoon x female reader
warnings: smut, face sitting, shitty ending
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As Namjoon brushed the tangles out of your wet hair, you were sitting on his bed, mostly between his legs. All his attention was focused on your hair as you were looking at him through the mirror.
Namjoon knew he shouldn't be around you. Like any high school boy who seemed to grow into a man over the years, he knew he should have pushed you to the back of his mind. He should only have thought of you when he was flicking through his photo album, longing for the good old days.
But you were just so hard to forget.
All his thoughts were filled with you. Even dreaming of you wasn't enough to satisfy his desire when it came to you, for you were even more beautiful than a mere mental image.
Like every high school beauty queen, you have one fatal flaw, which is, you have terrible taste in men. Namjoon was there to change that forever, picking up the pieces of your heart by making you try on his glasses to wipe that sad expression out off your face, or cuddling with you while you casually watched dramas all day.
He was your most loyal servant, waiting for his cue to make you his, following every sign to reach your heart, to make you his own queen.
His toned arms and legs encaged you, making your comparatively small figure seem like nothing in his embrace. You watched in awe as his sharp features made him look beautiful with the seriousness of taking care of you.
You couldn't help but lean into his embrace as his knuckles brushed your scalp, looking at how beautiful he was as if you were witnessing the northern lights for the first time.
"Namjoon, do you think I am beautiful?" You saw him frown and it made you want to take back what you had said, but the damage had already been done. He let out a sigh and put the brush down on the bed before wrapping his tanned arms around your waist. You felt a shiver run down your spine as he rested his chin on your shoulder and met your eyes. "Why are you asking me this?"
The tone of his voice was far from irritated, but you felt the blood rush to your cheeks.
"Is it because the so-called man of your dreams is too dumb to make you feel less beautiful than you are?" He planted a kiss on your cheek, the calluses on his fingertips brushing your skin under his t-shirt. "Or is it that you're too oblivious to see that I'm desperately in love with you?"
Your mouth fell open at how casually he confessed his feelings as if he were telling you how his day was going. You blinked a few times to make sure it wasn't a dream, and he flashed a dimpled smile just inches from your face "Why? Am I not good enough for you?"
"No, I just never thought that you would have feelings for me." You grabbed his jaw in a gesture of affection. It was as if you were in the daze of the moment as he trailed his tongue over his lower lip in an eager way, making you fight with the urge to pull him in for a passionate kiss. "I would never deny you if I knew this."
"Yeah?" He whispered above your lips as his thumb caressed your cheek lovingly. "Do you want me to show you how much you mean to me?"
You turned around his embrace to face him and smashed your lips into his. He brought his hands to your waist to dig his fingers into the flesh, bringing you closer to his firm chest.
It was even more meaningful than your first kiss. Even though you were kissing your friend, it felt like the kiss that you shared belonged to lovers. Something akin to a blessing. Who would have known a beauty this immense?
"You are so cruel, princess. For making me wait all this time." He brushed a strand of sweaty hair that fell into your eyes as his eyes bore intently into yours. "So cruel, so beautiful." His lips moved over yours ever so subtly that you could feel he wanted you to feel how he felt about you.
He wasn't drunk at all, he was sure of that. But he felt as if the room was spinning as your scent filled his nostrils. It must have been something about the way you tasted on his tongue, the faint hint of strawberry from your gloss that lingered on his lips.
"Hold your arms up." He murmured under his breath as his heavy eyes drank in your expression and you did as he said like the good girl you are. He watched your tits bounce at the sudden movement of pulling his t-shirt off your head and never missed a moment to kiss the temple of your breasts. "You were made just for me to worship you, weren't you?"
The thrill of having him so close to you crawled up all over your skin like climbing ivy, and with every touch of his burning hands on your spine, flowers came to life.
You felt like your trembling body lay on his soft mattress as he towered over you.
"Isn't it ironic that you've finally been caught in my net, my little goldfish?" He slid your shorts and panties down your legs as you spread out on his bed, his knees digging into the bed on either side of you. "I think deep down we both knew you needed a man like me." He nuzzled your inner thighs and your back arched off the mattress to meet his wet kisses as they moved slowly down your leg, tracing a sinister path to your ankle. "A man who can bring heaven to your feet."
“I am the only one who can do that, everyone else is just a waste of time.” He tangled your hair in his fist to kiss you, making you dive for another one as he pulled away. “After all, don’t you say that I know you better than you do?"
"Sit on my face-" You never knew a human being could be this beautiful when begging you like this. "Please, I've been dying to taste you."
He was almost sure that you were the perfect woman for him when you never questioned him and climbed over his face after you had seductively pushed him onto his mattress by his chest.
He was a man of sense, but when you slo
As Namjoon brushed the tangles out of your wet hair, you were sitting on his bed, mostly between his legs. All his attention was focused on your hair as you were looking at him through the mirror.
Namjoon knew he shouldn't be around you. Like any high school boy who seemed to grow into a man over the years, he knew he should have pushed you to the back of his mind. He should only have thought of you when he was flicking through his photo album, longing for the good old days.
But you were just so hard to forget.
All his thoughts were filled with you. Even dreaming of you wasn't enough to satisfy his desire when it came to you, for you were even more beautiful than a mere mental image.
Like every high school beauty queen, you have one fatal flaw, which is, you have terrible taste in men. Namjoon was there to change that forever, picking up the pieces of your heart by making you try on his glasses to wipe that sad expression out off your face, or cuddling with you while you casually watched dramas all day.
He was your most loyal servant, waiting for his cue to make you his, following every sign to reach your heart, to make you his own queen.
His toned arms and legs encaged you, making your comparatively small figure seem like nothing in his embrace. You watched in awe as his sharp features made him look beautiful with the seriousness of taking care of you.
You couldn't help but lean into his embrace as his knuckles brushed your scalp, looking at how beautiful he was as if you were witnessing the northern lights for the first time.
"Namjoon, do you think I am beautiful?" You saw him frown and it made you want to take back what you had said, but the damage had already been done. He let out a sigh and put the brush down on the bed before wrapping his tanned arms around your waist. You felt a shiver run down your spine as he rested his chin on your shoulder and met your eyes. "Why are you asking me this?"
The tone of his voice was far from irritated, but you felt the blood rush to your cheeks.
"Is it because the so-called man of your dreams is too dumb to make you feel less beautiful than you are?" He planted a kiss on your cheek, the calluses on his fingertips brushing your skin under his t-shirt. "Or is it that you're too oblivious to see that I'm desperately in love with you?"
Your mouth fell open at how casually he confessed his feelings as if he were telling you how his day was going. You blinked a few times to make sure it wasn't a dream, and he flashed a dimpled smile just inches from your face "Why? Am I not good enough for you?"
"No, I just never thought that you would have feelings for me." You grabbed his jaw in a gesture of affection. It was as if you were in the daze of the moment as he trailed his tongue over his lower lip in an eager way, making you fight with the urge to pull him in for a passionate kiss. "I would never deny you if I knew this."
"Yeah?" He whispered above your lips as his thumb caressed your cheek lovingly. "Do you want me to show you how much you mean to me?"
You turned around his embrace to face him and smashed your lips into his. He brought his hands to your waist to dig his fingers into the flesh, bringing you closer to his firm chest.
It was even more meaningful than your first kiss. Even though you were kissing your friend, it felt like the kiss that you shared belonged to lovers. Something akin to a blessing. Who would have known a beauty this immense?
"You are so cruel, princess. For making me wait all this time." He brushed a strand of sweaty hair that fell into your eyes as his eyes bore intently into yours. "So cruel, so beautiful." His lips moved over yours ever so subtly that you could feel he wanted you to feel how he felt about you.
He wasn't drunk at all, he was sure of that. But he felt as if the room was spinning as your scent filled his nostrils. It must have been something about the way you tasted on his tongue, the faint hint of strawberry from your gloss that lingered on his lips.
"Hold your arms up." He murmured under his breath as his heavy eyes drank in your expression and you did as he said like the good girl you are. He watched your tits bounce at the sudden movement of pulling his t-shirt off your head and never missed a moment to kiss the temple of your breasts. "You were made just for me to worship you, weren't you?"
The thrill of having him so close to you crawled up all over your skin like climbing ivy, and with every touch of his burning hands on your spine, flowers came to life.
You felt like your trembling body lay on his soft mattress as he towered over you.
"Isn't it ironic that you've finally been caught in my net, my little goldfish?" He slid your shorts and panties down your legs as you spread out on his bed, his knees digging into the bed on either side of you. "I think deep down we both knew you needed a man like me." He nuzzled your inner thighs and your back arched off the mattress to meet his wet kisses as they moved slowly down your leg, tracing a sinister path to your ankle. "A man who can bring heaven to your feet."
“I am the only one who can do that, everyone else is just a waste of time.” He tangled your hair in his fist to kiss you, making you dive for another one as he pulled away. “After all, don’t you say that I know you better than you do?"
"Sit on my face-" You never knew a human being could be this beautiful when begging you like this. "Please, I've been dying to taste you."
He was almost sure that you were the perfect woman for him when you never questioned him and climbed over his face after you had seductively pushed him onto his mattress by his chest.
He was a man of sense, but when you slowly ground your hips against his hungry mouth, suffocating him with your thighs, he was about to lose it.
He sucked gently on your clit as if he wanted to make you cry in agony, and it turned out to be the sweetest melody to his ears when you threw your head back with your mouth hanging open.
He landed a harsh slap on your ass before digging his fingers into the flesh to spur you on, the erotic moans coming from your mouth were enough to make him feel tipsy.
He was so lost in the moment that he wasn't able to think straight at all. His cock was aching for release.
As tears of pleasure adorned your cheeks, alarming him that you were trying to reach your end, he inserted his thick fingers into your dripping pussy, opening the gates of his heaven to more of his tongue's access.
You came so hard that you made a mess on his beautiful face, your release was everywhere, decorating his cheeks in the most sensual way. He pressed his tongue flat against your pussy to get drunk on everything you gave him. The sight of you coming down from your orgasm was so irresistible to him that it made him erupt in his baggy shorts.
Even though it was not a sight he would be proud of, changing into new clothes could be wait a bit longer.
He laid you on your back before taking his place beside you. He watched the exhaustion creep into your features as you yawned. You were so beautiful like this, in his bed like it was the only place you were meant to be.
He couldn't help but smile as you buried your face in his neck. "Don't you think we should take our relationship to the next level?" You giggled madly at the thought of Namjoon's flushed cheeks from saying something he hadn't expected. "I think you've seen my space level when I was on your face."
"You think this is funny, hmm?" He tickled your sides as you tried to wriggle out of his embrace, but he was too strong for you. "You won't have the energy to laugh when I'm done with you."
27 notes · View notes
Text
BTS Fic Recommendations
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I'll go back and add more fics as I find them! <3
⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆
⊹₊⋆ OT7
⊹₊⋆ Seokjin
⊹₊⋆ Yoongi
⊹₊⋆ Hoseok
⊹₊⋆ Namjoon
⊹₊⋆ Jimin
⊹₊⋆ Taehyung
⊹₊⋆ Jungkook ♡ part 1 ♡ part 2
451 notes · View notes
whyse7vn · 3 months
Text
PALENTINES -
[ ot7 x reader ]
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SINGLE LADIES 😁🔥
8 participants - 8 online
———————————
tae: gave my gf an hour long whimpering audio for valentines day
namjoon: you make me sick
jimin: this definitely counts as harassment
jk: yoongi got me a plastic fork
yoongi: yw
y/n: the audio was 5 minutes long????
tae: ok but i sent it to you 20 times
do the math????
jin: you sat there and whimpered into ur phone for 5 minutes that’s crazy
don’t you feel any shame??
tae: why would i feel shame?
it’s called being in love jin
you should try it sometime
jimin: it’s called harassment
hobi: ew man
jk: free asmr :D
jin: it’s gonna be free tae from jail soon
tae: no it won’t
jimin: ur right when you get locked up no one’s gonna want you free
hobi: KEEP TAE IN JAIL 🗣️💯
jk: personally i would want tae free
jimin: personally ur not real so it doesn’t matter what you want
jk: :ᗡ
hobi: ew how the hell did you flip it
i hate that
ew
jk: :ᗡ
hobi: HOW DID YOU DO THAT
jk: :ᗡ
hobi: STOP GO AWAY I HATE IT
namjoon: yoongi got jungkook a present this year?
yoongi: not by choice
y/n: it was by choice
hobi: it was a plastic fork
yoongi: a plastic fork not given by choice
y/n: yoongi
yoongi: no
y/n: please
yoongi: no
y/n: pretty please :3
yoongi: it was by choice
y/n: see told you!
yoongi: don’t understand why we have to buy each other shit on this holiday anyways
i like ONE of you not all of you
tae: am i the one you like be honest
yoongi: bye
y/n: it’s our silly little tradition don’t be a loser yoongi
yoongi: whatever
jin: ok anyways who ordered me a fucking marching band???
jk: idk but did you like it??
y/n: gonna take a wild guess and say it was jungkook
namjoon: i thought you have his card how did he order that??
y/n: he has apple pay now i can’t stop him 😕
hobi: wait no fair
jin did NOT deserve a marching band all he got me was his butter photocard???
jimin: he got me that too….
jk: OMG ME TOO >_<
tae: i don’t feel special anymore
namjoon: really jin?
y/n: mine was signed!!
yoongi: cheap
jin: you literally got kook a plastic fork?
yoongi: he loves it
jungkook tell him you love it
jk: i love it
yoongi: see
jin: whatever don’t care
jimin: namjoon got me a fucking book
jin: lol that’s crazy cuz you can’t read
jk: i’m sorry to hear you can’t read jimin hope you can soon :/
namjoon: i put a lot of thought into the book i got you
jin: that’s cute but he can’t read so
jk: i wish i was a book
tae: if you’re a book does that make you a tree?
jk: guys
y/n: no jungkook
jk: oh ok
jimin: i CAN read btw
yoongi: don’t care
jin: sounds like fake news
jk: omg wow ur a fast learner jimin you can read now!!!
jimin: ur talking way too much today
you should stop
jk: is he talking to me????
hobi: y/n got me a holiday to australia
i’m not gonna go cuz like bugs
but that was really nice
y/n: you’re welcome!!!!
tae: k but i got sex
y/n deleted this message!
tae: 😕
silencing me like they did MLK
jimin: what
jk: milk
hobi: did you just compare urself to mlk?
jin: yeah never say that again
tae: why not?? it’s true
yoongi: you are nothing like mlk
jk: tae ur not milk
namjoon: taehyung do not compare yourself to martin luther king ever again please and thank you
jk: or milk
y/n: and in black history month too…
tae: you don’t understand me or him
y/n: yeah ok
back to gifts
joon got me some really pretty flowers
jimin: boringggggggg he does that every year
jk: namjoon got me wood
hobi: ?
namjoon: statue
it’s a wooden statue thing
not just wood
tae: joon giving other boys wood for valentines ☠️☠️☠️☠️☠️
u wanna know who i gave MY wood too
y/n deleted this message!
namjoon: tae shut up
jin: saw that
tae: i’m just like mlk i’m telling you man
y/n: stop
tae: sorry
jimin: hobi got me shoes
hobi: i did
jk: hobi got me cheese
hobi: expensive cheese
y/n: i took yoongi to those cute photo booth things
yoongi: they didn’t need to know that
y/n: yes they did
we are sharing what we got each other
read the room yoongi
jimin: yeah yoongi read the room
tae: how tf u read a room??!
a room not a book ☠️☠️
u guys dumb as hell
jin: you not knowing what reading a room means makes a lot of sense actually
jk: send photobooth pics ^0^
bet u looked so cute
not you yoongi
y/n
her
not yoongi
i’m talking to y/n NOT you yoongi btw
yoongi: shut up
and no
you’ll never see those photos
jk: ☹️
hobi: so what did yoongi get y/n??
yoongi: don’t worry
tae: personally i’m worried
jk: me 2 guys yoongi is really scary
what if he killed her
y/n: ?
jin: i want to blow jungkook up
jk: i’m no ballon 😭
jimin: probably fucked for valentines let’s be real
tae: well that’s obviously NOT true lmao 😜 ☠️
yoongi: why is that “obviously” not true
we could of
tae: you didn’t
yoongi: and you know how?
tae: cuz i just know
yoongi: yeah ok
we could of for all you know
on the actual day too
tae: you weren’t even with her on valentine’s day
yoongi: and you were?
y/n: he wasn’t
tae: ok
but i could of been
yoongi: but clearly you weren’t
tae: neither were you
namjoon: both of you stop
tae: idk why yoongi acts all high a mighty
especially when it comes to her
y/n: ok that’s crazy
how about you don’t talk about me like i’m not here!
yoongi: idk why taehyung acts like he has a chance lmao
jk: guys
tae: that’s actually crazy
you’d be fucking surprised yoongi!!!!
yoongi: what’s that supposed to mean?
tae: what do you think it means?
tell me yoongi
guess
i’ll tell you if you’re right or not
yoongi: shut the fuck up
tae: or what?
hobi: why this kinda sexualllll
jimin: like 😭😭😭😭
y/n: LMAO STOP
jin: arguing over pussy that belongs to neither of them is crazy i’m just saying
jk: pussy \ ^0^ /
namjoon: how about we all stop arguing and move back to talking about the gifts we got eachother !!
hobi: jungkook got me a ballon
jk: yeah
do you love it
hobi: sure
jk: ^_^
jimin: personally i think hobi’s lying to you kook
jk: WHAT
jimin: i think he hates his ballon actually
jk: hobi pls say he’s lying
hobi: he’s lying
you see it may seem that way because on the outside im a very chill and nonchalant man
y/n: that is not true actually!
hobi: but on inside i am actually very chalant
EXTREMELY chalant no joke
so basically inside im going fucking crazy over the ballon jungkook gave me but it just doesn’t seem like that cuz im a chill guy
jk: but inside ur chalant
hobi: exactly
jk: jimin why would you lie to me
jimin: ur easy to lie to
jk: no im not
jimin: namjoon died in a car crash 24 hours ago
jk: NO NAMJOON OHHMYGOD NAMJOON NO
namjoon: i am not dead
jk: oh
y/n: how did you fall for that
namjoon cant even drive
jk: oh yeah
lol namjoon cant drive guys
namjoon: ok we all know
hobi: so what did you guys actually do on valentine’s day
jk: minecraft but then it got too scary so i played valorant instead
jimin: idk what any of that means but ok
i personally watched movies with joon
namjoon: yeah
i dropped by kook’s and y/n’s place first tho to give my gifts and stuff
hobi: where was my movie invite?????
jimin: we did call you
you were like high as hell
hobi: oh
wow
how real of me
jin: i cooked steak
jimin: for urself?
typical
jin: kys
no
for me and y/n actually
y/n: …
jin: my fault
yoongi: what
tae: oh
jk: SHE SAID SHE WAS BUSY
TTAHSTNOT FAIIROGJKFNKLDVLKFNKLFHKLNNDKVHNFKVNKLGNGR UFHDFHDKJ GHDKLNGFKLNGFG FHJDJHHGR DHGGRHBDNBF JGHKJGHGR
hobi: ????????????????????
namjoon: cool
jimin: jin???? out of everyone JIN??????
why would you fuck jin
jk: WHATR OHMYGOF WHAT?????? SHUT UP
jimin: on valentine’s day too…..
even fucking ME would make more sense than jin right now
jin: tf is that supposed to mean?
jimin: i said what i said lmao
tae: she cant of fucked jin
cuz she’s fucking me
yoongi: LMAOOOO
u really think your special dont you
thats crazy
jk: WHYIS EVERYONEFUCKING MY GIRLFRIENDOHMGYOJFDJFDKJDSDB
hobi: i dont get it even if she was fucking tae why couldn’t she fucked jin too?
y/n: i am like right here you know
tae: because me and her are serious
yoongi: serious???
you are just a rebound
tae: yoongi i think you’re just upset she didn’t come to you first after the whole jaehyun thing
yoongi: i’m glad she didn’t actually because now i know for sure i’m not rebound
you are
tae: shut the fuck up
yoongi: why? you getting upset?
idk why you’re acting like the victim here when you’re using her for the same thing
hobi: woah??
jimin: cap taehyung bitchless
yoongi: it’s time you stop using y/n to get over jennie and grow some fucking balls
jin: hold on
jimin: WAITTTTTTTT
hobi: SHUT FUCKING DOWN FR????
jk: imgonnapassout
y/n: oh
namjoon: yoongi
tae: i am not using y/n to get over jennie and you know that
hobi: wait ur fr??? taejennie was fr??
LIKE ACTUALLY?? OHMYGIDTHISISREAL??
yoongi: i know that? thats crazy how could i know that??
you didn’t even tell us about jennie
for over 3 months you were with her and you didn’t tell us
and then those photos of you and her were leaked and you were all depressed for ”no reason”
and now all of a sudden your obsession with y/n?
yeah you’re not using her you’re right i’m just fucking stupid aren’t i?
jimin: holy shit man
tae: i am not using her
yoongi: so why is yeontan with jennie right now?
y/n: tae you told me he was with you parents?
tae: yeah
but
i didn’t tell you that because im using you or anything i just said that because i didn’t want to cause any problems
y/n: you lied to me
for no reason
if you told me the truth it would of been fine
tae: i know
y/n: so when i came over
were you planing on sleeping with me anyways?
were you mad at yourself for calling jennie and leaving yeontan with her?
did you use me to help forget about it?
tae: did you use me to help get over jaehyun?
y/n: no
i can tell you that in full confidence no
now answer my question
tae: you know i would never do that to you
y/n: its a yes or no question taehyung
tae: i would never do that to you
yoongi: yes or no you asshole
tae: shut the fuck up
yoongi: answer her question
tae: leave me the fuck alone
tae left “SINGLE LADIES😁🔥”
jk: wow
y/n: didn’t sleep with jin btw
jk: ohthankgod
y/n: did sleep with tae once
we are NOT serious
jk: double ohthankgod
wait
y/n: and now i am going to sleep
jungkook come cuddle
gn all
jk: ON MY WAY OHMYGOD IM ON MY WAY
gn
jimin: good night …
hobi: nite!!
yoongi: gn
jin: goodnight
namjoon: gn
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DOWNBAD😭🫵🏻 #2 (minus tae)
6 participants - 5 online
———————————
namjoon: yoongi that wasn’t fair
yoongi: i know
but she deserved to know
and he wasn’t gonna tell her any time soon
hobi: YOU AND NAMJOON KNEW THIS TAEJENNIE WAS REAL THIS WHOLE TIME????
yoongi: i just found out
namjoon knew longer
namjoon: not that long
jimin: ok but how do you know tae is using her fr?
yoongi: it’s not hard to connect the dots
jin: still you could be wrong
yoongi: well he didn’t deny it did he?
jimin: to me it looked like he didn’t know if he was using her or not
yoongi: well he needs to figure that out soon it’s not fair to her
or him ig
but mainly her.
hate this don’t care about anything bring back yellow….
tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @kooksmilitarywife @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @jazminethecreator @k4ngelz @jmnscutie @threeopossumsinacoat @cynicalyoongs @lightningpussy54 @eunthv @gigiiiiislife @lowkeykin @elissasimp @socksfirstalways @knjlvr06 @lailaisarmy @thvkives @xstfudaisyx @xxxanimangxxx @solstice34 @ml8dy @hoeforseoks
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wildestdreamsblog · 1 year
Text
Baby Fever
Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Reader
Summary: You were more than just a secretary to him.
Warnings: Yandere behavior, Obsessiveness, Possessiveness, Manipulative behavior, Breeding kink, Sexual themes, If you’re not 18+ please, PLEASE, do not interact. Be mindful of the warnings. Let me know if I miss anything.
A/N: hiiii! I haven’t felt as inspired as I did while writing this for a while 🥹 I hope you enjoy this!
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“I want a baby.”
You sputtered out the coffee you were drinking. Your eyes watered as you coughed. You tried to get your breathing under control as you looked at the imposing man sitting in front of you with his legs spread apart. He had not lifted his eyes from the laptop presented in front of him. He was idly looking at photos of paintings from the various exhibits you attended while he was busy with his group’s schedule. As an idol, and on top of that the leader of the biggest group today, Kim Namjoon was an extremely busy person. You were his secretary for almost four years now. You took care of his personal life, while his personal assistant took care of his work life. You were there for him whenever he was done with his work schedule. You were there to make sure that he remembered to call his family during their birthdays, special occasions, and holidays. In fact, you were the first person he was keen on seeing once he landed from whatever country they were in for work. His members, specially Taehyung and Seokjin, let you know time and time again how much you were appreciated. If you weren’t there, they thought that Namjoon would not be as put up as he was right now. You thought that Namjoon would survived without you.
You coughed twice before finally feeling like you could live. “What?” You asked him in confusion before wiping your self with the handkerchief he had somehow laid out in front of you.
Namjoon eventually looked up to you once he marked the photos of paintings he wanted to purchase. He leaned in, resting his elbow on his muscular thigh before plopping his chin on his hand. “I said, I want a baby.”
You squinted your eyes confusingly, “As in…baby as in baby? Or baby as in I don’t know? Not an actual baby?” You knew even as you asked what he meant. Namjoon was the most intelligent man you knew, and he did not make mistakes when conversing. In fact, he was such a great conversationalist that the media loved to invite him on their shows.
So…what brought this on?
“A child of my own, Y/N.”
That was not the first time he mentioned that. If you could remember clearly, he answered in some interviews that he really wanted to become a father. He even bought that cute little shoes when he was abroad just because. In your mind, you knew he would be the best father if how he took care of his members was any indicator. It broke your heart, though, to see him still alone after all this time.
“I mean…are you seeing someone that I’m not aware of?”
He blinked at you, absorbing what you were asking. How could he had another woman when he spent almost all his free time with you? “No.”
“T-then how?” You asked in puzzlement. You could see from his expression that he was serious about this. He rarely said anything without thinking it thoroughly in the complex and brilliant mind of his. This meant that he really did want to have a child of his own now.
You were finding it difficult to process this. Couldn’t he just want another painting?
Namjoon merely shrugged his broad shoulders and went back to looking over the paintings.
You thought that was the end of it. But no. The second time he mentioned this was at Jin’s house.
You two were about to call it a day after running errands for him. To be honest, you were quite excited for tonight. You were set to meet with your college friends, including someone you always looked up to back in your college years because of his superior intellect. He was also always so kind to you, even walked you home to your dorm every night. But you were too immense in your studies back then that you had no time for relationship. But maybe, now?
You made sure to take more time to dress yourself up this morning. You even chose to swap your usual lipstick to a different shade that made you feel more alluring and beautiful. Your fingers touched the beautiful necklace Namjoon gave you on your birthday last year. You thought that the accessory was perfect with the dress you were wearing.
This would be an easy day for you, you thought to yourself seeing that RM’s schedule was just until the afternoon. You smiled at your reflection in the mirror, satisfied with your appearance before leaving the house. When you showed up at the company to pick him up, the staff politely informed you that the leader was still in the studio with Yoongi and that he told them to ask you to go directly there. You were walking to the floor where the studio was when you passed the three maknaes: Jimin, Taehyung, and Jungkook.
“Oh, noona!” Jungkook called you, his voice in pleasant surprised as he looked at your face. His doe eyes took in your clothes with wonder before meeting your eyes again. “Noona! You look so pretty!”
Taehyung smiled at you and nodded his head. “Our noona looks so fashionable,” he commented as he checked out your get up today. You beamed at his compliment, happy that the fashionable Taehyung approved of you.
Jimin sauntered up to you, teasingly wrapping his arm around your shoulders before smirking at you. “Our noona has a date,” he speculated on a sing-song voice that made the other two chuckled.
“So where is hyung taking you?” Jungkook pondered, excitement apparent in his eyes.
“Don’t tell me he’s taking you to another exhibit? Aish, he’s so unromantic,” Taehyung lamented, shaking his head at the thought of his hyung and the disastrous date that was about to happen.
“Hyung is not unromantic! As if you know anything about romance,” Jungkook pouted, fully on defending mode for his Namjoon hyung. His lips were in an adorable pout as he chastised Taehyung.
“I know how to be romantic!”
“As if! Until when are you going to keep giving tickets to her until she shows up in our concerts, Taehyung?”
“She will! I can still see her commenting in the weverse!”
“So? Her bias is J-hope, not you!”
You chuckled at the three’s cuteness. Taehyung was now the one pouting while Jungkook looked like he was enjoying tormenting his hyung. You watched them for a moment before finally correcting them. “He’s my boss. We’re not going on a date.”
The three maknaes looked at you with confusion in their eyes. “B-but, why are you so beautiful today?”
You squinted your eyes at Jimin, “So I’m not beautiful everyday?”
“N-No! That’s not what we meant-“Jungkook denied quickly, his eyes widening even further. He was afraid of offending his noona because then, his hyung would looked at him with disappointment in his eyes.
You chuckled lightly, deciding on ending their distress by telling them that you were going to meet with your college friends tonight, in which they were silent. They looked at each other for a moment, as though speaking in telepathy before the oldest maknae spoke up.
“So noona, is that an all-girls event, or no?”
“There’s going to be boys. Why do you ask?”
He smiled at you cheekily, but this time the smile did not reach his eyes. “Nothing.”
The three maknaes watched you walked away from them, your eyes focused on the tablet in front of you. They sighed in disappointment and worry.
“Namjoon hyung is going to lose his mind,” Taehyung finally broke the silence.
“I don’t want to be here when he finds out noona is going to meet boys from her college,” Jungkook fretted, holding both Tae’s and Jimin’s arms.
“RM is going to be unbearable after this, isn’t he?” Jimin stated with a smile that looked more like a wince. The few times you went out on a date, Namjoon was insufferable. He was quiet, too quiet that the maknaes were scared to make a mistake or speak too loudly. “Shall we move to the mountains for a while?”
Yoongi opened the door, smiling politely at you before letting you in the studio. RM’s back faced you as he hunched over the workspace. He was deciding on what beat sounded best when you arrived.
“You’re here, Y/N? I’m almost done-“ he trailed off once he turned his chair to look at you. His eyes widened before he managed to erase the awestruck expression in his face. But Yoongi saw. He smirked before sitting down on his workstation, looking up at the pair in front of him. The other one was an idiot despite being the most intelligent man in almost any room, and the other was a naive one. He hid his smile on the cup of coffee he was slowly sipping.
“No worries, Namjoon. Take your time,” you smiled at him before sitting on the sofa. He was still not able to take his eyes off of you. And you, the ever naive one, only flashed him your professional smile.
And Yoongi was enjoying it all.
“You looked different today, Y/N,” Yoongi commented tonelessly, egging the leader beside him. “Right, Namjoon?”
You blushed as you could feel your boss’ heavy eyes on you. You flashed Yoongi a shy smile before turning to look at Namjoon. It was a moment, a heartbeat too long before he replied with seriousness in his voice, “She always looks beautiful, Yoongi.”
He wanted to add that you looked like a masterpiece, one that had different meanings whenever he looked at it during different times in his life. You were timeless, his heart wanted to add. However, his brain was deaf in his heart’s true desires.
You blinked at his sudden praise on you. “T-thank you, Namjoon.”
“Is there an occasion?” Yoongi asked innocently after reading the message sent by the maknaes about you and your supposedly college reunion. He almost chuckled when he read that the three were planning on staying as far from the company as possible. But not him. This was fun to him. In his opinion, the two of you should have been in a relationship for a long time now. He thought Namjoon needed the push, or a shove if Suga was being honest. And he was willing to be the one to do that. He was a kind friend like that.
“Oh, I have a reunion with my college friends tonight,” you shared as you fixed the papers that Namjoon needed to look at. You wanted to be efficient today so Namjoon could use the rest of the day to finally relax. You thought his eyes looked a little tired lately.
“You didn’t tell me that,” Namjoon noted lightly, fixing you with his hard stare. “What time are you going to meet them? Where are you going to meet? Will you be out late?”
Yoongi was smiling as he watched RM threw question after question at you. Yet, he failed to ask one thing that should be asked.
“Are there gonna be boys, Y/N?” Yoongi asked innocently, blinking owlishly at you before leaning back and watching it all unfold.
Your affirmative answer made RM’s mood turned sour.
You were on edged as you drove the car expertly from the last location of the schedule today. Even at his age, people around Namjoon still adamantly refused to let him drive. The members thought that he would be a danger to people around him, and to himself as well. Namjoon was uncharacteristically silent as you drove. He was either staring at you or outside. Ever since you picked him up from the company, you could feel that something was off. You just could not pinpoint at it. On the other hand, Namjoon was contemplating…or more appropriately scheming as to how he could keep you with him today.
“Let’s go to Jin’s,” he finally broke the silence, flashing you his normal, dimpled smile.
“What?” This was not in the schedule today. You purposely scheduled light meetings today so that he could go home and you would have more than an ample time to drive to the reunion.
“It’s still early. I promise we’re only going to be an hour.”
Lie.
“Ahhhh actual people!” Jin greeted when he opened the door and saw you and Namjoon. He was carrying the box of baby books he insisted would be helpful to the brain development of Jin’s son.
“Hyung, your son is an actual person,” Namjoon said in a light tone as he took in Jin’s state. Despite the bags under his eyes, he was still so handsome that fans would still call him the worldwide handsome. He looked tired, but his eyes held so much happiness that RM could not helped but be happy for his hyung. At the same time, he wanted, no, he craved the domesticity that Jin was now experiencing.
The men were talking and laughing about work as Jin’s wife lead you to her son. You cooed at the child and thought that he would break a lot of hearts in the future. He was a carbon copy of Jin. He was laughing at you when you made funny faces at him, the melodious laughter reached the men’s ears.
“He likes you,” Jin commented, fondly watching his handsome son babbled and laughed. “Do you want to hold him?” His lovely wife asked.
“Really? Can I?” You asked in wonder. She smiled at you before gently laying the happy child safely in your arms.
Your heart melted as you held Jin’s little bundle of joy. The little weight you were holding was someone else’s whole world. He was barely six months old and yet he had so much personality like his father.
“You’re so beautiful, little one,” you whispered to the baby looking up at you as if he understood every word you said.
Namjoon could not even begin to decipher what it was he was feeling when he saw you holding the little Jin in your arms. He just felt this warm feeling in his heart, as if the image of you holding a baby in your arms was from a dream come true. The image was forever imprinted in his mind, he was sure. Something about you felt right. Something about you felt like the missing piece in his life. You had always been there for him. He was not ignorant to think that he could survive without you in his hectic life.
He thought that you were meant to stay in his life.
You were so focused that you almost missed the heat from Namjoon’s body when he leaned in and looked at the baby from your shoulder. You could feel his breath this close that it made you heart beat louder. Was it from shocked? Was it from shyness? Or was it from something else that you had spent years denying?
“So precious,” Namjoon whispered softly. You jumped from the deepness of his voice. You shivered from the body contact you were not used to. You cleared your throat before turning to him.
“Do you wanna hold him?”
And once he had the tiny human in his muscular arms, Namjoon smiled tenderly at Jin’s son. He brushed the sparse of hair he had on his head gently.
For the second time, he said, “I want a baby of my own.”
You were surprised that he once again brought it up. This time it was not only to you but to his hyung. Jin blinked as if he was startled by RM’s admission. He looked at you before looking at his friend.
“I’m sure you’ll be a great father, Namjoon,” Jin said in all seriousness. He knew he would. He was sure of it.
“When will you start making a baby of your own, Namjoon?” His wife asked him teasingly, leaning against Jin as they looked at the man observingly.
RM glanced at you, “Soon.”
You were already an hour too late to be considered fashionably late that RM insisted that he’d have his driver dropped you off to your reunion. You wanted to say no, yet you knew it would be impossible to resist Namjoon whenever he was in that mood. He always knew how to get his way, you thought. His intelligent mind knew just what to do, just what to say in order to get what he wanted.
And that night, he did.
Your college friends looked at you happily when you stepped out of the car. They walked closer to you, welcoming you to the party. And there you saw him, the man you hadn’t been able to forget. He was still as handsome as ever. You couldn’t help but smile when he was approaching when you felt a presence behind you.
“Hi. I just dropped off Y/N. I’m sorry she’s late,” RM greeted the group charmingly before nonchalantly placing his large hand on your waist. You jumped from the contact. He never did that. What would your friends think? Your head was in overdrive that you didn’t notice your friends fawning over the Kim Namjoon. He was treating them kindly, allowing them to take pictures with him before he turned to you.
“Enjoy your night, Y/N,” he murmured before placing a kiss on your cheek.
Well, there went your chance with your college crush.
You didn’t know what to make of his actions that when you went to his house the following week for information pertaining to the property he was looking at, you were on edged. You didn’t have to knock because he told you before to just enter his penthouse. You were given access to his home. You took a deep breath before walking inside his house, not knowing what to anticipate with him, with his touch…and that kiss that should not have happened.
“Oh, Y/N! You’re here! Come sit!” Namjoon’s mom called from his dining table, smiling pleasantly at you that you froze. You didn’t expect her here but at least there was a buffer between the two of you now, right?
“It’s been so long! You’re so thin! Is my son too hard on you?” She asked as she pulled you to sit beside her, in front of RM who only looked intently at you. You couldn’t read his expression. He was wearing a simple black shirt that fit a little too snugly on his chest. You hated how you were noticing yet again his physical qualities like you did when you were merely starting. His mom was still reprimanding his son as she put plate in front of you despite you offering to help. She merely shrugged you off, happy that you were there to take care of her son. Who knew what would happen to him if you weren’t here, she thought. RM was silently eating, enjoying the way his mom was mothering you when she turned her attention to him once again.
“When will you give me a grandchild? With the way you are working, you have no time for family! All my friends and neighbors have at least one grandchild. Son, just give me one, okay? Just one,” She pleaded as she placed more food on his plate.
“Okay, omma,” Namjoon consented. He was serious, yet his mother groaned as if he was just placating her.
“You,” she turned to you, placing more food on your plate as well. “Don’t be like my son. Go make your own babies! I’ll just borrow your child every once in a while, okay?” She told you humorously as she laughed and told you that you needed to eat more.
Unbeknownst to the two of you, the man’s face darkened with the mere thought of you carrying someone else’s child. He hated the thought of you not being his. He had the whole weekend to think intensely, and all the answers pointed to you.
You didn’t have time to discuss with him what had transpired. The following weeks, he was busy with work, yet this time he had always quietly ordered that you’d be with him. Before, you only had to meet with him thrice a week. But now, you were with him almost everyday. You were working in his office when Hoseok and Yoongi entered the room.
“Oh! Y/N, you’re here!” Hoseok exclaimed before walking to you with the brightest smile you had ever seen. Yoongi only smiled at you in acknowledgement before approaching RM and showing him his laptop. They were deep in conversation when Hoseok asked you if you knew where the list for the event was. You nodded before standing up. It was in the overhead cabinet. You reached for it in difficulty for a moment when you felt a hand on your waist, and RM’s muscular arm stretched beside you as he grabbed with such ease what you were trying to reach. He was as near as that night. “Here you go, Y/N,” he whispered…and heavens did it feel sensual in your ear. His hot breath tickled your neck. You could feel your cheeks heat up from his proximity.
You were starting to notice that RM was becoming…touchy lately. It didn’t feel disrespectful to you, it just felt like something changed with the way he was acting, with the way he was looking at you, with the way he was demanding your attention.
J-hope looked at Suga in astonishment. Were these two finally a thing?
One night, you were walking to your humble apartment with Namjoon beside you. His hands were in his pockets as he walked you to your door despite you telling him that you were fine. But you should know, he was a stubborn one. It was late, and the only light were from the hallway of your apartment. It was almost midnight when the two of you arrived at your apartment after checking out the house Namjoon wanted to buy. He asked you what you thought of it, and you said it was beautiful. The yard was spacious with swimming pool. The house itself had numerous bedrooms that you didn’t know who would stay there. In your mind, you rationalized that it must be his members if ever they wanted to stay. In Namjoon’s mind, it was for his family. He listened intently to what you had to say, and only when he saw how your face lightened up when you saw the whole house did he decide to buy it.
“Here I am, boss Namjoon,” you announced jokingly before straining to look up at your tall employer.
You blinked when he only stared at you, “Namjoon?”
“Good night, my princess,” he murmured with his deep voice.
Did he just…call you his princess?
You were too shocked to notice him leaning down. And once he did, you felt his lips kissed your forehead softly, his large hand on the back of your head. You were frozen when he stepped back.
And then he left.
Namjoon thought you needed time to process everything. He knew you were an over-thinker, that you were a flight risk. He just didn’t know you would be like this with mere kisses on your cheek and forehead. You hadn’t been picking up your phone since that day, and he had half a mind to go to your apartment. But he had to keep in mind that there were less conspicuous method to use.
You read the message from Namjoon this afternoon. Apparently, he forgot to pick up the gift he had for his father’s birthday and he was now in his hometown. He was half-pleading and half-apologizing for his clumsiness that you felt bad to just leave him on read. And so you replied that you’d bring it to him.
Your mind was blank as you drove for hours to him. Ever since that night, the feelings you had tried so hard to bury and successfully did, were resurfacing. It was unfair, you thought. You didn’t have the emotional capacity to fall for him. You knew how this would end. When you started to work for him, you thought he was everything. You looked up to him because he was so kind, so intelligent, and so masculine. He was gentle with you even when you made a mistake. He helped you find an apartment that was safe after he saw how you were living before. He paid for the deposit and for the rent during the first year despite your adamant refusal. He even paid for your grandmother’s hospital bills, the only family you had. She had lived longer than what the doctor said. She died without experiencing difficulty eventually, all thanks to RM’s connections to the best hospitals. You wanted to pay him. You even refused to accept your salary, with no success. Namjoon just merely shrugged and said he wouldn’t let anything happen to you as long as he was around. And you believed him.
And so, you did your best to take care of him day and night. Even going beyond your job description. You became his secretary, but what was more, you became his friend, an ear to vent on, even a shoulder to lay his head to rest.
One night, RM had too much to drink. He was feeling suffocated from the pressure of the world. You found him staring on an empty bottle of whiskey when you arrived in his penthouse. That night, you sat with him, listened to his worries, rubbed his back with comforting hands. You assured him that he was not the version he thought of himself. He was better. He was the best man you ever knew. You told him how much you appreciated him, and that he was doing his best.
That night, he asked you what he would do without you.
That night, you told him he’d never have to find out.
That night, he kissed you.
And come morning, he forgot about it.
But you didn’t. And that was the first time he hurt you.
Your memory trail stopped when you saw him standing in front of their house, waiting for you.
His father, just like his mother, was able to convince you to stay the night. He said you were family, and that it would be his birthday wish to spend it with the woman who managed to keep his son alive. He even joked that without you, RM would probably forget to pay his bills, to keep his fish alive, or even to eat. You laughed and said RM was becoming more mature lately and that he could survive without you. RM disagreed.
“You know what, you could do so much than be with my brother,” RM’s younger sister said teasingly as all of you were eating dinner. She stuck her tongue out to her brother who just rolled his eyes at her.
“Oh,” you chuckled shyly before looking at the tall man sitting beside you. “We’re not together!”
“Why not? I was just kidding. I think you’re perfect for him,” she admitted before smiling at the two of you. She was just voicing out what her family had been thinking for years. By now, you were a permanent fixture in their lives that if and not when the day comes that RM introduced someone else to them, they would find it hard to accept her.
You chuckled before telling her that your relationship with her brother was strictly professional.
“He’s working you too hard, isn’t he?” His father asked you as he shook his head at his innocent son. “Listen to me, life is too short to work all day. Go out and have a beautiful life! Or else you’ll find yourself old and alone one day without a family of your own.”
Once the intimate party died down, you found yourself talking with RM in the living room with alcohol in front of you. The two of you were seated on the floor side by side with the sofa behind you. His parents had called it a night after drinking with them, while his sister tapped out as well. Alcohol and the existence of other people helped to die down the awkwardness you felt. You were laughing at RM’s anecdote about the thing that happened during their dance practice. He watched you with contentment in his face. Seeing you happy was making him feel like he did something right, like he won one of those awards. He didn’t know when it started, but he just knew the desire to make you laugh would never go away. He was sure of it.
“I’m sorry about my family. They’re just used to teasing me.”
You waved him off before pouring his empty glass, before pouring yours. “It’s nothing, really. I had fun. I’m glad I came.”
“I’m glad you’re here, too,” he admitted, his look at you was as intense as that night that your heart started to beat harder, as if it wanted to escape the cage it was in. You blinked and decided to look away. You fanned yourself, “It’s quite warm in here, right?”
Namjoon smirked before drinking, his eyes never wavering from your face. “You’re beautiful, princess,” he commented, his voice deep as he waited for you to look at him again. He was near, so near that his thighs were touching yours. So near that whenever he moved, his muscular arm brushed against yours.
“God, you’re so drunk,” you muttered before looking up at him.
“I may be. But come morning and ask me again, and I’d still tell you you’re the most beautiful thing that ever happened to me.”
You gulped, his voice deepened even further. “You’re the most important person in my life,” he admitted with intensity in his voice, with promise in his eyes. “I know I love you.”
Your eyes widened before attempting to move away from him when you felt his massive hand on your back, preventing you from moving away from him, effectively stopping you from running away from the truth that he never tried to fight.
“You don’t mean that,” you whispered, your hand now on his chest as you tried to stop him from coming any closer. He shouldn’t. He couldn’t. Because if he did, he’d feel how hard your heart was beating just for him. Or how terrified you were of falling, only to have him forget about it again. To forget you again.
“I do. I mean it,” he whispered leaning in slowly at you. “I love you.” And then he kissed you. And you were all too powerless to stop him. He pulled away after a moment. You were breathing hard, your eyes trained on his lips before meeting his eyes. And then this time, you kissed him.
You didn’t know how, but the two of you found yourselves in his bedroom. His hand was entangled with your hair, your hands caressing his broad back as he walked you to his bed. You were drunk from the alcohol and his kisses, his heavenly kisses. He pushed you gently to the bed, and not a second was wasted before he joined you. You pulled off his shirt, your eyes in awe at his form. His muscles were definitely more defined now than when you last saw it accidentally back when you were just beginning to work for him. His chest looked definitely stronger. You were aware of this from seeing him wearing tight shirts, but this? This was something else.
You moaned lightly as Namjoon trailed kisses on your neck, peppering it with subtle marks of his own. He thought that you were his, and that your neck should be adorned with his marks. “Keep it down, princess,” he teased you as he got impatient with the endless buttons of your blouse that he resorted to ripping it off of you. He couldn’t be gentle. Not when the woman of his dreams was finally on his bed. “Or do you want me to cover your mouth?”
You didn’t know that he had it in him to be a dirty talker. You were feeling the heat when he smirked at you before you felt his lips on your chest, down to your stomach, and finally to your core. You closed your legs, shyness finally coming back to you as you sobered from his sinful kisses. He was kneeling, his legs were on either side of you as he leaned closer to you once again. “Be a good girl and open your legs, princess,” he ordered, his hand caressing your soft thigh.
His commanding voice was like a hypnotic spell that you found yourself opening your legs slowly for him. And as a reward, he made your legs shook. You were still catching your breath that you didn’t notice he placed a pillow under you, lifting your core. He kissed you once again on your lips so tenderly, so lovingly that for a moment you believed he loved you.
“You are made for me, princess,” he whispered before looking at you with darkness in his eyes, “You’re made for daddy. Say it.”
You keened when you felt his hardness slide at your core teasingly, punishingly as you waited a little too long to repeat what he wanted you to.
“Say it, princess. Don’t make daddy mad,” his hot breaths were tickling your ear as he pinched your sore nipple that you yelped.
“I-I’m made- ugh- I’m made for daddy,” you finally said as you felt his thick head slowly entered your drenched core.
“And who’s your daddy?”
“You are.”
That night, he told you repeatedly how you were his and his only. He made you promised that you would never leave him, and that you would never ignore him once again. He made you come so much that you lost track of the time. His large hand was on your mouth, preventing you from waking the whole house up as he rutted against you with so much stamina and passion. He made you so mindless that you didn’t realize he was finishing inside you each time. He made sure to not let a single drop leave your core.
The third time he didn’t have to mention about wanting a baby of his own, he just did.
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kyph3r · 4 months
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NEW WORKOUT PLAN
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trainer!namjoon x fem!reader
in which... your new trainer is hot, you're horny, and it's past closing hours
warnings: pwp, smut, use of the word "slutty", this is rlly short so be ready for a fast pace, im imagining a chubbier reader but the fic is for everyone !!!
an: just a little drabble, i was listening to the college dropout and the new work out plan played, it inspired me ;)
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when your trainer walks in, you swear the world stops for a second
you just joined a new gym, it's marketing said it was rigorous and had the top trainers in the country working to get people in shape. so when a 6'2, bulky, handsome man walks into your assigned training room and says he'll be helping you work out for the next few months with the sweetest smile on his face, should you really be as surprised and horny as you are?
your first day is extremely embarrassing, you swear the universe cursed you to be the most unflexable person on earth. but your trainer, namjoon, says it's all right with a small smile and proceeds to lay you out on the ground and help you stretch. his big arms grab your thighs and pull them back until your knees hit your chest and fuck, you pray to the highest power that you aren't leaking through your tight little leggings.
"you are so tense, is everything alright?" he asks with a concerned look on his face. the hands on your thighs go higher and start gently massaging your calves as an attempt to get you to relax. it does quite the opposite. you can't tell if he's teasing you on purpose or if he is just that oblivious.
"n-no i'm fine namjoon.. i just don't stretch a lot, that's all!" you say with a tremble in your voice, trying to hold back a pleasured moan from the way he's touching you. he lets out a noise of understanding and starts bending you more.
"if that's the case then we should probably spend a lot of time stretching in our first few sessions," he looks down at you and smiles, "i don't want you to accidentally hurt yourself because you haven't stretched." the look on your face after he said that must have been very amusing, because he had to lower his head to let out a chuckle.
namjoon is an excellent trainer. he insists on doing the workouts alongside you "to make it fair" but it honestly just makes things a lot worse. by the end of the workout his voice is breathier, there's a shine of sweat all over him, and the image of a big man dripping sweat and saying your name alongside praises of "keep it up, you're doing so well" leaves you in more of a debauched state than you should be in after a work out.
by the end of the first month you're sore and very sexually frustrated. you've been trying to seduce him in any way possible, wearing the tightest work out gear you own, blinking up at him with eyes that scream "please fuck me!" any time that you can, you really give props to namjoon for being so respectful and proper during your sessions. but every once in a while his polite persona will break and he'll look at you like he wants to devour you right in there in the training room. but it will quickly go back to normal, leaving you a horny mess.
the closest you think you came to him fucking you was the yoga day, you purposely wore shorts that made your ass look amazing. he told you to do the downward dog position and you swear you heard a quiet "fuck" coming from him behind you, quickly covered with a cough. by the end of the session a blush was set high on his cheekbones and the hands around your waist positioned to check your form were gripping firmer.
by the middle of your second month, he finally breaks.
"do you know how much of a tease you've been, huh?" he questions while giving a slap to your ass. he has you pressed against the wall, backside jutting out to flush against his moving hips. his pace is ruthless, one hand holding your own above your head and the other hooking two fingers into your open mouth. "i had to endure your slutty little outfits for all these weeks, shit, take it."
you moan uncontrollably, his thrusts becoming faster as the hand in your mouth snakes down to your core, playing with your clit.
"namjoon! too much, gonna cum," you whine out, grinding your hips back onto his. he gives another slap to your ass and speeds the fingers on your clit and you're cumming, arousal squirting onto his hand and the ground. his groans become louder as he feels the mess you made and angles his head down to suck along the column of your neck.
"fuck, baby, you're so good. so good for me. just let me use you a little longer." his pace slows to shallow thrusts that feel like they hit your guts until he comes with a low moan, filling your insides.
you are both panting, sweat and cum dripping off of each other. he lays his head on your shoulder and slowly pulls out of your cunt.
"so–" he clears his throat, "would you like to go out somewhere?"
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m-yg93 · 1 year
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Solace
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Pairing: KNJ x Reader
WC: 13.5k
Genre: Roommates2L
Rating: M (minors dni)
Warnings: Brief blood mention from a cut, mention of minor character death (sickness), fingering, hand job, big dick joon, belly bulge, unprotected sex, mentions of choking, creampie, dirty talk, inconsistent POV
Banner by @sugarwithtea​
Beta’d by @yoongiobsessed​ and Sara (twitter link)
Summary: Namjoon thought getting used to a new roommate would take time and adaptation but you fit yourself into his apartment with ease. He swears he only landed in your bed to keep you safe in his arms when you get spooked by the storm. Surely he can blame the eventual lack of clothing on the summer’s heat stroke.
Author’s Note: This should have been written months ago. I don’t have an excuse. Oh well, it’s here now! 
Part of the Room For Rent collab
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There needs to be a word that describes the feeling of being happy for someone while simultaneously going through betrayal.
Namjoon is happy for Yoongi, of course he is, but watching him from across their kitchen table is sending an uncomfortable wave through him. He didn’t expect his oldest and closest friend to run from him, leave him in the dust, just straight up abandon him.
“Oh my God, you’re being dramatic. I’m not abandoning you, I’m moving to Gangnam. It’s just across the river! You and your freakishly thick thighs can bike to my new place in 20 minutes.”
Okay so perhaps he’s being a little dramatic but what else was he supposed to think? He and Yoongi had shared this apartment for years. There had been countless sleepless nights fueled by too much ramen, the living room littered with energy drinks as they bumped heads and helped each other brainstorm ideas for new beats. These walls hold melodies and memories, and he’s just expected to share them with someone else now?
“Plus, I told you you’re welcome to move in with Jin and I. His dad’s some CEO and the apartment is ridiculously lavish. There’s a room with your name on the door if you want it. I’m serious, Jin has this thing with plaques and has a name for every room, it’s honestly worrying. I won’t even tell you what he decided to name the master bedroom.”
Namjoon purses his lips at the thought. That was the main reason behind turning Yoongi’s offer down. He likes Jin and genuinely loves that he brings so much light into Yoongi’s naturally dreary life. Seeing Yoongi’s lips fight against a smile only to burst into the cheesiest, gummy grin while audibly groaning about his boyfriend’s terrible jokes brings a warmth to Namjoon’s chest every time. Yoongi deserves to be happy and he knows Jin is the best person for the job. But he knows full well the couple will christen every room of that apartment and he wants no part of it.
“I know,” he agrees, “But with the proximity to Yongsan park? I don’t know if I’ll ever leave this place.” The open fields just outside the doors of their apartment are the first solace he reaches for when the instrumentals in his brain just keep fighting each other, transforming into the screeching noise of the streets under his window. The trees don’t talk back but letting out his frustrations under the canopy of leaves feels like it helps anyway. “I guess I’ll have to try to pick up some extra freelance contracts to make up for having to pay the rent alone. I hate having to produce meaningless pop but it brings in decent cash when I’m in a tight spot,” he laments.
“Dude, I’m not heartless. I didn’t just decide to move out and leave you stranded. I have a friend from high school. I don’t see her often but she’s a good time and she’s looking to move out of her parents’ place now that she’s done with her degree. It’ll be easier to find work in the city. I’ve mentioned her. Y/N? I go out to dinner with her every couple months to make sure we keep in touch. She’s pretty shy and she’s quiet, you’ll barely notice she’s here.”
There’s a wave of relief that comes with knowing he won’t have to pinch pennies but it quickly turns frigid at the realization that he’ll have to live with a stranger. What if she was a morning person? What if she was a smoker and made the whole apartment fill with the lingering acrid smell? What if she killed his plants?
“I can see your brain working overtime. Breathe, I wouldn’t offer the place to someone I know doesn’t fit your vibe,” Yoongi reassures. I guess there’s not much else to do but wait and see how compatible your living situations are.
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Thankfully their own music equipment had been bought separately because they’ve been bickering all day when Yoongi tries to put something in a box from their shared spaces only to have Namjoon object.
“What are you going to do with a wok, Joon? YOU DON’T COOK!”
“Jin has a plethora of different ones in his kitchen and we both know it! Maybe your friend likes to cook, huh? Maybe she’ll want the wok to make meals.”
“Make you meals, you mean?” Okay so maybe he was hoping the new roommate situation came with food because losing both Yoongi and Jin’s cooking overnight was going to hit him hard. He’ll wither away into a string bean at this rate seeing as he’s not allowed near the knives nor the stove.
Yoongi must take pity in the pleading look in his eyes because he puts down the wok with a sigh and passes to the next cupboard. Namjoon is distracted by Jin’s entrance, always loud and boisterous.
“Hey! How is packing going? I just parked the moving van downstairs but I don’t know how long I’m allowed to be there.”
“It’s fine,” Yoongi shouts from across the apartment. “I’d be done already if Joon didn’t try to steal all my shit and force me to leave them here.” He’s zooming past him, bony shoulder purposefully digging into Joon’s bicep.
“I’m monitoring the fair share of roommate assets,” he huffs. “Jin’s apartment has more shit in it than he already needs. You’re leaving me alone with only memories that you once cared for me. The least you could do is not leave with half of what’s in this measly dwelling when your sugar daddy’s got you up in a penthouse.”
They both know the jabs are jokes. Jin has more money than anyone needs, but he’s also a hard worker and spent his youth learning how to take over the business from his father when the time comes. He’d swept Yoongi off his feet with expensive dinners and outrageous gifts when they were first dating, only knowing how to flaunt his money for attention before Yoongi set him straight and taught him that he’d have to put more thought into his courting if he expected him to stick around. Clearly, he did.
Reminiscing about his, nearly ex, roommate almost distracts him enough to miss Yoongi trying to sneak a thin square package into his last remaining box.
“You’re going to take that vinyl out of here over my dead body, Yoongi!” The apartment echoes the lament in surround sound.
They do eventually make it to the van parked downstairs after Yoongi finishes taping up his boxes with only a limited amount of protest from Namjoon.. The air is humid, clothes sticking to Namjoon’s skin as he chases after the wind from Yoongi’s open window like a dog on his first car ride. Jin’s apartment building is a stark opposite from their, his, own. Whereas the outside of his building is all grey concrete walls, Jin’s is all sleek glass of floor-to-ceiling windows causing the brightness of the sun to reflect off and into Namjoon’s eyes as he looks up to the top where his friend will now be living.
The air conditioning of the lobby hits full force, the trio letting out a pleasant hum which quickly turns into a deep groan when they see the elevator boasting an out of order sign. Two pairs of sharp eyes round on Jin, malice dripping from furrowed brows.
“I swear it was working when I left this morning. They must be using all the power to keep each unit’s AC going through the heat wave. The stairs are this way.” He points to a corner of the lobby, tight corridor leading to a single door.
“The stairs? You live in the penthouse, that’s FIFTEEN flights, babe.” Yoongi is quick to point out.
“Are you trusting enough to keep all your music equipment in the van for who knows how long this heat is going to last? I know you’re going to complain about all the moisture in the air messing with your delicate settings.” Namjoon knows he’s got him there. Yoongi would suffer through a natural disaster if it meant keeping his equipment safe and at peak performance.
“You’re right,” Yoongi sighs dejectedly, head thrown backwards. “But I won’t be any help bringing the gear up. You see these legs? They’ll snap like toothpicks if I try to bring them up. Guess Biceps and Shoulders need to do all the heavy lifting.” There’s an airy lilt to his voice when he figures he’s saved himself from the worst bit.
“Doubt they’ll stay that small seeing how many times you’ll be going up and down those stairs to bring up all the light boxes while we deal with the heavy stuff. You’ll have lungs of steel with all that cardio, buddy. I’m sure Jin will appreciate how long he can hold his dick in your throat without you needing to breathe after that.” Namjoon sends him a salacious wink.
Yoongi’s face, which had been a flushed shade of pink from the heat, drains immediately when he realizes the position he’s put himself in but Namjoon doesn’t let him change his mind. He just claps a hand on his shoulder and turns around to get to the van and pick up the first console they’ll need to bring up to Yoongi’s new designated studio space.
Namjoon regrets showing Friends to Jin after today. If he has to hear ‘PIVOT’ one more forsaken time he might choke that windshield wiper laugh right out his friend’s throat. His whole body is aching when he sets his ass down on Jin’s plush couch, finally tasting a bite of heaven after all those steps but it can’t be savored long.
“Get up.” Yoongi’s voice breaks through his needed rest. “The elevator mishap made us take way longer than planned and we’re already late to pick up Y/N.” If anyone sees him fighting back tears that’s none of their business.
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The drive out to the suburbs of Seoul is peaceful, the population seems to have holed up inside and away from the sun’s rays. They pull up to a nice two-story home. Namjoon can’t see much into the property since it’s surrounded by tall brick walls, but it’s unnecessary as he can see the silhouette of a young woman waiting outside the gate, piles of boxes at her feet.
They all pour out of the truck, Yoongi darts out first to meet her halfway where she throws herself in his arms. There’s a lot of squealing and Namjoon isn’t sure from who it’s coming out of in the mess of limbs. They separate and approach where he and Jin had waited by the vehicle.
“I’m Y/N, you must be Jin!” There’s a hand out ready to be shaken but it’s presented in front of the wrong man.
“Actually, Jin is this one,” Yoongi corrects, taking your wrist and moving it to the correct person.
“Oh my God, that’s embarrassing. I just figured it was the big one. I’ve heard about your muscle kink enough once you figured out you were into men that I just-- You know what? I’m going to shut up now. Hi, sorry about that. Nice to meet you.” There’s a nervous giggle in between words that’s instantly endearing.
Jin doesn’t seem offended, laughing alongside her. “No worries, he’s plenty satisfied without the beefiness of his teenage crushes.” He wiggles his eyebrows comically which has her chuckling and Yoongi whining.
“This is Namjoon, your new roommate. Joon, this is Y/N.” It’s his turn to shake hands, your fingers so thin and delicate around his much bigger grasp. He takes the time to really take you in, looking down at you; wide grin and smooth skin that spans from your neck down into your… Nope, face!
“You have a nice face.” For a lyricist he sure did have a way with words.
“Thank you?” Your eyes trail to the side where Yoongi stands, eyes deadpan and mouth shut tight.
“He grows on you, I swear. Get in the car, we’ll grab your boxes.” Yoongi says as he passes in front of you with an icy stare towards Namjoon. Okay, so he could have made a better first impression.
You don’t have many boxes which makes sense. The apartment is furnished and Yoongi had left his bedroom set for you since he wouldn’t need it at Jin’s. He remembers leaving his parent’s house with barely anything. It had taken a while for Yoongi and him to make the apartment seem like people actually lived in it. They’d spent far too long eating cup noodles while sitting on the floor in the corner of the kitchen.
Jin takes his place behind the wheel, Yoongi slipping in beside him in the passenger seat. The earlier ride in the backseat wasn’t so bad for Namjoon since he could sit crookedly to fit his long legs behind the couple’s seats in front of him but your presence beside him forces his knees to hit the back of Yoongi’s seat.
“Can you push your seat up a bit? Your little legs don’t need that much space,” Namjoon shoots ahead of him.
“And just for that comment your giant ass and long limbs can suck it up. Respect your elders, brat,” Yoongi snaps back. Maybe he deserved that one.
He sends you a sheepish look and an awkward smile as he spreads open his thighs lewdly. His knee hits yours despite you sticking your legs together demurely, hands politely sitting in your lap. The touch attracts your gaze and Namjoon can track your eyes as they drag up the bare skin of his quad, past the hem where the material of his shorts dig into his thighs, and settles just a little too long where both his legs meet. He can practically feel your stare burning a hole into his groin, a heat expanding through his body.
He doesn’t even realize when he lets out an uneasy cough and you’re quick to look away with a start when you hear it; clearly having been caught in your little perversion. The flush that builds on your cheeks is shameful enough that he doesn’t mention anything more, only locking away the memory of you blushing and embarrassed for later.
Namjoon is thankful that with four pairs of arms there won’t be a need to do multiple trips for your boxes. Jin sends you and Yoongi off with a box each but loads Namjoon’s arms with three; enough to block his view so he has to peek around them to see where he’s going. There might not be many boxes but the ones he’s been given are heavy enough to make his arms shake underneath their weight. He’s absolutely going to blame that on having had to haul all of Yoongi’s belongings during the day and definitely not on the fact he’s weak. He goes to the gym regularly!
“Thanks for helping! Just leave them by the door, I’ll take care of unloading everything,” you call from across the apartment. Yoongi must be giving you a tour of the place.
Namjoon kicks off his shoes and crashes head first into the couch, his big body halfway dropping off of it. All his muscles ache and he’s sticky with sweat. His lids close, reaching for some rest. His stomach rumbles, the memory of breakfast fading. There’s soft footsteps sneaking up on him. He’s trained himself enough to catch Yoongi coming. He’s broken enough things when his roommate suddenly appeared by his side and gave him a spook.
“Don’t think I’m an idiot, Joon. I could see the way you looked at her. I’m only going to say this once, don’t fuck my friend.” His voice is almost sinister as it whispers in his ear. Namjoon’s eyes quickly open wide. He wasn’t looking at you in any sort of way and he was about to defend himself, mouth open with a denial on his tongue. He doesn’t have the chance since you pop around the corner, seeing them both with their heads too close to each other, Yoongi’s glare facing Namjoon’s incredulous look.
“Everything good here?” you ask.
Yoongi’s expression shifts, gummy smile on full display but Namjoon still sees the daggers in his eyes. “Yep, I was just saying bye to Joon. Jin’s already back at the van and we need to get it back to the vendor. Text me if you need anything Y/N. And Joon? Remember what I said.” He and Jin take their leave, surely to start desecrating their new shared space.
“Okay? Is it just me or was he being weird?” You look back at Namjoon but there’s only a shrug of his shoulders as your reply. “Alright, well I’m going to start unpacking then.” You’re just about to turn tail when you can hear the growl coming from Namjoon again. “Ah, you must be hungry, you’ve been going around the city all day. Is there anything already in the kitchen?”
“No, we went through all of it when Yoongi and Jin decided to have a goodbye dinner this week. You get started on unpacking and I’ll run down to the store for some stuff. I think we’re both too tired to do much effort but I can grab ingredients for some decent ramen.” Namjoon slips his shoes back on and running out the door as soon as he finishes speaking.
Luckily, there’s a small family owned market just down the street from the apartment. Mrs. Park is going to be sad to hear that her ‘little dumpling’, as she called Yoongi, won’t be visiting her anymore. She’s mostly used to seeing Namjoon anyway. Yoongi may have been the one cooking but Joon was always the one sent off on errands for any ingredients that were missing midway through the meal preparation.
The bell chimes above him when he walks into the little shop. Mrs. Park doesn’t even look up from her newspaper, head staring firmly into her lap. There’s a low buzz emitting from the artificial lights mixing with the music that’s playing in the shop, something Namjoon doesn’t know, a beat that hasn’t been popular in half a century.
The aisles are familiar and he grabs the ingredients absentmindedly, throwing things in the handheld basket hooked onto the crook of his arm. Green onions from the produce section, a carton of eggs and a hunk of cheese from the dairy section, and spam from the canned goods area.
Mrs. Park finally lifts her eyes from whatever news story that had her attention and gives him a warm smile that reaches her eyes. He should give his grandma a call. A smooth wrinkled hand grabs his groceries one by one, slowly bringing them closer for inspection. Her frail finger punches into the keys of the register.
His eyes wander while his items disappear from the counter and into a bag beneath the surface. The sky has turned a slate grey from an overbearing cloud covering the sun, bringing the vibrance of outside down to a dull.
Against the window is a shelf filled with flowers. Namjoon has often seen people grabbing a bouquet as they wait for their total. He remembers a man with a tie midway undone, suit jacket flapping behind him as he rushed out frantically. A forgotten anniversary he suspected. Just last week, there was a small child tugging at his father’s sleeve, pointing at a particularly bright blossom and requesting to bring it home to his mother. The memory brings a small smile to his lips.
He doesn’t contemplate long before reaching for a lonely white rose in a near empty bucket. He remembers certain symbolism from the time he read The Language of Flowers. Purity, innocence, a new beginning, and reverence. He thinks he catches a mischievous glint in Mrs. Park’s eye as she hands him the bag of groceries in one hand while the rose remains in his other.
The universe allows him only long enough to step out of the shop before the skies open up with a loud clap and water erupts in a downpour. Shock overtakes him and he freezes on the spot as he lets the fat water droplets sink into the fabric of his clothes. The cold immediately seepsinto his skin and settles in his bones, eyes shut tight and mouth open.
The loud rumble of distant thunder urges him to start moving. The plastic of the bag is slippery in his grasp and there’s a stinging pain in his palm from where the rose’s thorns dig in. There’s an uncomfortable squeak from the leather of his sandals with every heavy step he takes. As he sprints the few blocks back to the apartment, the loud slap slap slap of his foot hitting the pavement.
The door of the apartment slams into the wall as Namjoon rushes to get inside, the doorknob undoubtedly leaving a mark from the force at which Namjoon has opened it to throw himself inside.
“Namjoon? Is everything okay?” you call from the living room. “I’m sorry for the mess, I’m trying to fit in my own books across your collection. I don’t want to mess up the system you’ve got going on.”
“Yeah, all good, just wasn’t paying attention,” he reassures.
Your head pops out from the hallway to take inventory of the situation yourself, not quite trusting the waver in his voice. “Oh god, it started raining? I was so in my bubble that I didn’t even notice. You’re soaked! Let me grab you a towel.” You’re off to the bathroom before he can even thank you, already back to exchange the flower still in his grasp for the towel you hand him.
“I hope it didn’t take a beating on my way back over here,” he says, worry tainting the edge of his voice.
“No, it’s perfect. Thank you. Do you know if you have any vases?”
“I’m sure Yoongi’s left some in the kitchen. Jin had a habit of getting him a new bouquet every month. Don’t tell Yoongi I said this but he’d blush every time despite all the grumbling he did about it. Happened every month for two years, like clockwork,” he teases.
“That sounds about right. Yoongi will never admit it but I know how much praise and appreciation means to him. I’m glad Jin gives him that. I’ll go find it.” You’re turning tail and heading into the kitchen in search of the vase.
He pats himself dry enough so that he’s no longer dripping on the floor before he follows you in. You’re in front of an open cabinet, head tilted back to look at the top shelf of it. Your hand is stretched to its capacity, boosted by the tip of your toes, one knee nearly hiking onto the countertop to give yourself enough reach.
He truly only means to help when he sneaks in behind you to grab at the vase. He doesn’t expect to catch you off guard, sending you backwards and off balance with a squeak. His grasp abandons its path towards the top shelf and instead redirects to land on your hips, pinning you against his chest.
You’re taken by surprise at the strong hands grabbing onto your side, a hard wall of muscle at your back, heat radiating from his skin, his wet clothes dampening yours.
“Are you okay?” he asks, breath just a little too close to your ear.
There’s a hitch in your voice when you reply hastily, “Mhm! All good. I’ll let you get that actually. I’m going to change. My clothes are gross from today. You should too, you’re going to catch a chill if you stay in those wet clothes. Your shirt’s so soaked I can see right through it. Not that I was looking! I’ll just- right.”
You’re running off before he can articulate a thought, the door of your room slamming shut behind you. He’s nearly certain he can hear an embarrassed groan through the wall despite that. He does get the vase down and fills it with water, dropping the rose into it before he slips into his room as well.
The rain will be good for the heat in the long run but as it stands it just permeates the apartment with heavy humidity. He grabs a pair of comfortable shorts and a tank top to change into. He passes next to your room on his way to the bathroom. He takes the time to stop and knock at your door.
“Y/N? Do you need to use the bathroom? I’m going to jump in the shower really quick.”
“Go ahead! I’ll take one after dinner.”
His clumsy fingers struggle with the lock behind him, clothes falling onto the floor. The bluetooth speaker that has a permanent residence in the bathroom is turned on, a playlist going at random. He makes sure to adjust the temperature of the water, slightly colder than he usually would. It’s absolutely to combat the heat and definitely not the memory of your body pressed against his in the kitchen; soft under his hands and plump against where his crotch pushed in under the curve of your ass.
Oh god, focus on something else. Listen to the music. The beat is uplifting and he finds himself singing along to the lyrics. A popular song from a girl group member. He recalls Yoongi mentioning he’s worked on something similar.
He lets the tepid water run down his body, hands quick and rough where he scrubs the soap into his skin, not letting them stay in one spot too long to melt into the feeling. Yep, he definitely needs to have it colder. It’s near shivering levels of frigid when he ducks his head under the stream to rinse the shampoo out of his hair.
He’s nearly forgotten about the shape of your body against him, mind preoccupied with the soprano of the singer in his ears. Pop pop, pop, you want it. His body responds as if with muscle memory from seeing this song trend with its choreo everywhere online. His hands take turns pointing at an open hand and back again, fists then popping as if miming fireworks going down a zig zag pattern.
The haunting thoughts of the kitchen eventually disperse enough for him to exit the stream of water and change into the clean, dry clothes. You’re already in the kitchen humming to yourself once he leaves the room followed by a puff of steam.
“Do you need me to help with anything?” he proposes.
“Yeah, that’d be great. Can you slice up the spam and drop the eggs into the water? There’s a pot already boiling.” Put eggs in water and cut up some meat. Sure, he can do that.
The eggs may have cracked a little when he quite literally dropped them into the pot but that’s fine. A little hard boiled never hurt anyone. He swears he’s extra careful when you hand him a knife and let him stand in front of the cutting board. Just going to very daintily hold down the spam and slowly bring the knife down-
“You’re holding it upside down. Sharp edge towards the bottom and make sure you curl your knuckles in so you don’t nick yourself.” Right, of course, he knew the knife was upside down. Just making sure you did, hah.
He manages to make some slightly uneven slices until about halfway through the block but eventually there’s just not enough space for his big sausage fingers to hold on and the knife just slips…right into his palm.
“Ah, shit!” He jumps back, letting the knife clatter to the floor. His uninjured hand keeps the pressure onto the wound as small river of red runs between his fingers. He’s taken by surprise and lets himself be manhandled to the sink before his wounded hand is pushed under the cold, running water.
“I should have figured why Yoongi was so ominously telling me where the first aid kit was in the kitchen. And why he asked how often I cooked at home.” There’s shuffling behind him and a small hand sneaking its way between his body and the sink.
“Take it out, I’ll pat it dry and put a bandage on.” He’s careful to keep his hand stable as your delicate fingers patch him up. A soft pressure with a gauze and a more instant one for the wrap that goes around his palm.
“My friend JK is going to think I took up boxing and ask me to go to the gym with him if he sees this.” He tries to laugh it off, bringing humor into his near amputation.
“I don’t think you need any incentive to go to the gym.” Your eyes are trailing up his arm, stopping at his bicep and following all the way to the middle of his chest. The flex he pushes is completely accidental and was absolutely not to show off the progress he’s been building.
“I take care of myself, I guess.”
“Right.” There’s a small laugh in your voice. “Go take care of yourself, away from the kitchen. I’ll handle the rest.”
He lets himself be shooed out of the hot space, out into the living room where he sees your earlier comment about a mess. There’s books all over the floor in little towers looking for a home on his already overly compacted bookshelf. He picks a few of his bigger tomes to rehouse to his room which allows space for yours to make themselves at home.
He doesn’t notice how long he’s been calculating which books need to be relocated until he hears the clatter of bowls hitting the coffee table behind him.
“I figured we could eat in here today, more casual and all. Thank you for helping me make sense of where to put my stuff. I didn’t want to impose.”
“This is your home too now, you deserve to have space for your things. Yoongi wasn’t much of a reader. Thank you for dinner. I’m afraid you’re going to be in charge of feeding me a lot. I can always just order in but Yoongi was always on my ass for spending money on takeout.” He has the humility to look ashamed at his incapacity to nurture himself.
“No worries, it was kind of implied when he told me to take his spot. I like cooking, so I don’t mind, really. Tell me more about yourself though, I only know what Yoongi’s told me which is pretty much only that you produce music like he does. You’ve got an eye for art from what I can see of the prints on the walls.”
“Ah, actually those are all mine,” he blushes and points to a camera that takes a place on one of the higher shelves. “I like biking around and I figured it was a shame to see all the pretty landscapes without getting to commemorate them properly so I got into photography. I’m not a professional or anything but I enjoy it. I’m actually going to Comic Con this weekend with a group of my friends. They’re cosplaying and they wanted someone around to take pictures of them in costume. JK's actually got a pretty great Spiderman thing going on and it works for him with all the, you know, muscles and spandex.” He’s gesturing a little wildly over his body, as if you’re familiar with Jungkook’s physique.
“I don’t but I can imagine.” Your eyes are following where his hands had gestured over him, gaze roaming over the muscles he’s boasting himself. “You don’t happen to have any spandex hiding in your closet yourself?”
“Nothing like him, riding shorts for when I take particularly long bike rides. I don’t tend to favor it, they really ride up.” His sentence ends in an uncomfortable chuckle and he avoids your view, completely missing how your eyes have started to glaze over.
The small talk fades after that, replaced with the sound of chopsticks hitting the edge of bowls and the occasional slurps. You hold your chopsticks loosely between bites, your phone in your spare hand just mindlessly scrolling.
There’s a familiar tune coming softly from your direction, a low hum of a melody that triggers Namjoon’s receptors. He can place it pretty quickly, pop pop pop uh uh.
His hands take on a mind of their own. He doesn’t stop chewing as his fists go through the movement. Open palm, point, switch, zigzag.
He wouldn’t have even not realized what he was doing if a little giggle hadn’t interrupted the flow of the song. He freezes, eyes widening. It’s a slow pan of his eyes to look into his peripheral, as if not moving his head would somehow render him invisible and able to melt away from the embarrassing situation he’s caught himself in.
You’re doing your best to hold it in, lips nearly completely sucked into your mouth, teeth forcing them closed. He appreciates the effort but he can admit the jig is up. He picks his chopsticks back up with a little cough, gathering his bearings.
“It’s a catchy song,” he defends.
“Oh absolutely, it gets stuck in your head so easily. Even when hearing it off key and through the rush of running water,” you tease.
He pretends to be offended by that. “I’m a producer! I’ll have you know I have great pitch.”
“Of course, someone should tell Nayeon that she’s in the wrong key then. How embarrassing for her to be performing it that way.”
You both dissolve into laughter after that. The silence that follows feels a lot lighter than it previously had been and he breathes a little easier.
“Leave your dishes in the sink, I’ll take care of it in exchange for the cooking labour. I rarely break things anymore. Even if Yoongi won’t let me forget about his favorite mug. I still insist that the shape wasn’t ergonomic and that’s why it slipped out of my hand. He was so mad he refused to drink any coffee that day and knowing Yoongi you know how that was more a punishment for me than it was for himself,” he shares the memory of how grumpy Yoongi had been that day. They must have restarted the same beat half a dozen times. Suffice to say it wasn’t a very productive day and Namjoon owed him a new mug of his choosing.
Your first night together was fruitful. You’ve managed to unpack and meld your belongings with his, have dinner - where he didn’t kill himself in the kitchen - and bond over some banter. You’ve practically ingrained yourself in his life already and Namjoon isn’t sure if that’s good or a little terrifying. He’s not the type to usually feel comfortable with a stranger so quickly. He’s glad Yoongi had you take his place, he doubts it would have been this pleasurable if he had had to place an ad online.
There’s a ghost of a smile stuck on his face when he closes the door to his bedroom. Being alone in his room brings forth the thoughts he’d pushed aside back to the forefront. His computer monitor lights up the space, calling him back. The mixing board on his desk blares a signal he can’t ignore. He has a project to finish and the deadline is knocking at his door incessantly. He sits in his chair with a sigh and slips his headphones over his ears, blocking out the loud patter of raindrops on his window.
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He awakes with a start. His back is sore and his skin is damp with sweat. He’s too old to be falling asleep on his desk like this, he’s going to feel it in the morning. The room is pitch black around him. A quick jiggle of the mouse tells him the computer is dead and there’s a hint of panic at the thought of having lost his work. Rationale takes over to remind him that it automatically gets stored on the cloud at consistent intervals. They’ve learned their lesson too many times before implementing that.
There’s an odd irritation at the back of his mind and he realizes the thrum of the AC is missing. Ah, no power. The storm must have knocked it out. His muscles scream from the stretch and there’s more than a few uncomfortable cracks when he gets up and extends his arms above his head. He slips out of his clothes in hopes that more skin in contact with any air might help him cool down. Besides, he always sleeps in his boxers anyway. The air has dried up his throat and he can feel his body begging for water. He grabs the latest water bottle to litter his desk, tips it all the way upside down but not a drop comes.
He hopes he can traverse the apartment to the kitchen silently. Between his heavy footsteps and the stubborn squeaky floorboard outside his bedroom he’s worried about waking you. He sends a silent prayer into the universe that you’re a deep sleeper.
He does hit the floorboard, sending a creek into the night and he freezes for a second but no angry outbursts come from your room to scold him. He’s slowly taking a step in front of the other, carefully moving his weight from one foot to the next, the little smack of his sole hitting the wooden floor melding into the sounds of the rain still pouring outside.
The pressure from the faucet sends the water stream beating onto the metal of the sink and he hopes the curse he lets out fades into the night. He downs two whole glasses before he feels sated and prepares for the slow trek back to his room.
He’s just outside your door when the apartment flashes as lightning touches down in the distance. Namjoon stops moving as the roll of thunder comes quickly behind, nearly covering the strangled gasp from the other side of the door.
“Y/N? Are you okay in there?" The door to Yoongi’s room always had trouble latching since Namjoon drunkenly threw himself into the frame thinking he was heading into his own bed one night.
There’s a small crack where he can press his ear to. He holds his breath, straining to hear above the rattle of the heavy rain against the windows. For a second he believes he must’ve imagined it, or perhaps you’d shifted in your sleep.
He has one foot in the air, prepared to shuffle back to his own room when he hears it again. A choked sob hidden between the pitter patter of drops slamming against the glass.
He’s more insistent this time when he calls your name and pairs it with a soft knock against the wood of your door.
The noise seems to give you a spook because he swears you let out a high pitched ‘EEK’ in your surprise. There’s no additional verbal answer so he takes his chances on turning the knob and poking his head inside.
“Y/N? It’s okay, it’s just me. It’s Namjoon,” he reassures.
He can’t see a thing, the room is pure darkness. The streetlights outside have gone down with the rest of the power grid so he can’t tell if you’re hurt or might need help.
“Joonie?” There’s a soft voice coming from where he knows the bed is, muffled and timid.
“Yeah, can I come in?” he asks.
“Yeah,” comes an answer, meek and nearly whispered.
He hadn’t come into this room since you unpacked so he’s careful to take small, careful steps towards the bed, nearly bent in half with his arms out to feel for any furniture you might have moved into the path. He taps the bed tentatively when he finally reaches it, feeling long limbs under his palm.
He shyly takes his hands off you and makes his way towards the headboard, knees hitting the edge of the mattress as guidance. He reaches out again, expecting to find you but he only feels more blanket covered lumps.
“Are you hiding under the blanket?”
No words come but the hard shape under his palm moves in a nodding motion. He sinks down, kneeling onto the floor a little harder than he expected. Difficult to judge distance in the darkness.
“Can I pull the comforter down? Can you tell me what’s wrong?”
The fabric moves under his touch until the feeling of goose down turns into silky hair. He moves his fingers down, grazing your ears until they reach your cheeks, damp and hot against his skin.
“Are you crying? What’s going on? Is moving away from home for the first time getting to you?” It definitely had for him at first. He’d go back to his parents’ house every night to have his mother’s cooking for dinner and only started spending the evenings at the apartment after his younger sister had mocked him about not being able to stay too far from his mother’s comfort.
You let out a shamed whine below him. “No…” He stays silent, waiting to see if you’ll share more. “The thunder woke me up and then I tried to turn on the light but it wouldn’t work. And-”
Lightning interrupts you and as the room flashes in sudden light Namjoon sees your face for an instant. Your eyes are wide, laced with red from the tears but one thing he can tell for sure is that in that second- you’re absolutely terrified.
Your breath gets shaky and there’s a twitch in your hands where he can tell you struggle not to throw the blanket back over your head to escape.
“Shhh, it’s okay. You’re afraid of the storm, I get it.” His grip on you tightens when he feels you tremble as the thunder rolls behind.
“You can say it. It’s stupid to be scared of storms. I’m just a big weenie.”
“I’d never call you a weenie, Y/N. You know, my friend JK is afraid of microwaves. Runs out of the kitchen and hides across his apartment every time he needs to heat something up. He’s convinced they’re going to blow up and take him with them in the blast.”
You snort, which is followed by a loud slap of skin on skin that he can only assume is you covering your mouth in response to the noise that just escaped. He’s huffing out his own chuckle in response. Adorable.
“Okay, so what are you afraid of then Mr. Tough Guy?” You’re more combative now. He’ll take that over the fearful demeanor you had a minute ago.
“Me? Hmm, I don’t think there’s anything too unusual. I’m not super fond of spiders, I suppose?”
“Spiders? But Yoongi told me you’re obsessed with crabs. They’re basically water spiders. They walk similarly and they’ve even got more legs!” Oh, you’re heated now but you’ve hit him where it hurts.
“How dare you!” The offended gasp he lets out overtakes the drone of rain coming from outside. “Crabs are cute little friends. I have half a mind to walk out and leave you alone in this storm after that.” He fakes getting up but a small hand digs into the flesh of his bicep.
“Don’t! Please. I’m sorry, crabs are adorable, you’re right. I was just kidding. Don’t leave.” He can hear the fear engulfing your voice in your plea.
“No, no, it’s okay. I was just joking. I’ll stay as long as you need.” He didn’t mean to trigger your panic again, especially since he had just gotten you to calm down a bit.
“You might be here a while then, it doesn’t seem to want to let up anytime soon.”
“No worries. Let me just get off my knees. I won’t be able to walk tomorrow if I spend all night bent like this.” He makes to switch to sitting on the floor but you stop him.
“Do you… uhm, want to lay on the bed? There’s more than enough room for two. I’m not like Rose, that bitch.”
“Are you sure? I can sit here, I don’t want to make you uncomfortable.” You’d known each other barely 12 hours. He didn’t want to appear pushy in your vulnerable state. He’s enough of a gentleman to know to make space for the women in his life to ease themselves into his presence in a manner where they feel safe.
“Don’t worry. Yoongi told me enough about you for me to know you’re the least scary man on this planet. Only way you’d hurt me is if you fell on top of me, which I’ve been warned may happen more than I expect so be careful climbing in.” He feels you scooch over to the other side of the bed, leaving a wide open space for him to settle into.
There’s still some hesitation that weighs heavily in his limbs but when he sees how your body jumps when another bolt touches down and illuminates the room his resistance melts away. His movements are slow as he eases himself onto the mattress.
“Do you have enough space?” you ask.
If he’s being honest he’s certain half his body is teetering off the edge but he’s more concerned about overcrowding you. “I’m fine, don’t worry. You should try to sleep, you had a long day.”
You’re answering with a half hearted mumble and the room is overtaken with the battering of rain on the windows. Namjoon stays alert, hoping to feel your breathing even out to indicate that sleep has claimed you but it never comes.
“Are you still awake?” Your voice is barely a whisper and if he wasn’t specifically keeping an ear out, he would’ve missed it completely.
He turns onto his side, body now settled fully onto the bed with no risk of suddenly tumbling out with a wrong move. “Yeah, what’s up?”
“Can we just talk for a bit? I think that’ll help me calm down.”
“Of course, as long as you don’t insult my little crustacean friends again.”
“Were you one of those kids that would do that shark chant? ‘Fish are friends, not food.’”
“Nah, Pixar and Bruce are wrong for that. Fish are food, crabs are friends.”
“You’ll have to give me a history lesson as to why kiddie Joonie came to that conclusion if Nemo wasn’t the inspiration.” There it is again, Joonie. Namjoon huffs out a little chuckle at hearing it, letting the nickname slip under it.
“Oh,” you gasp. “I’m so sorry, I should have asked before calling you that. Do you not like it? I’ll stick to your name. Or should I be using honorifics, oppa?”
Oh, he’ll have to unpack how his stomach flips with that last part but now isn’t the time for sudden self discoveries.
“No, no! Don’t worry, it’s cute. I just wasn’t expecting it. My friends usually stick to just Joon but you can get special roomie privileges.”
“I fear you’ll one day regret that. I’m going to be so annoying from now on.” He can hear how your words are blanketed in a mischievous teasing, and he believes you but won’t admit defeat that easily.
“You’ll have to give Tae a run for his money. If he pairs up with Jimin then they’re insufferable. Hobi is a saint for having them both under the same roof with him. You don’t know the guys yet but you’ll figure it out soon enough.”
It’s easy to imagine you already melding into his little group of misfits. He thinks back to dinner when you’d teased him about listening to that ‘girly’ song, and he knows he’ll soon be babysitting four wiley dongsaengs instead of three. Sometimes five when Jungkook manages to set Seokjin off. He doesn’t realize the smile that sets itself on his lips and it’s too dark for you to comment on it.
The bed shifts and your voice is suddenly closer, indicating you’d mirrored his movements and were now facing him.
“You talk about them a lot, your friends. Yoongi does too. You must all be really close.”
“We are, like brothers honestly. I have a younger sister but meeting Yoongi was the first time I felt like I had a hyung. He’s not much for declarations of affection but I love that dude.”
“He knows. You guys are all he talks about besides his music. He loves you, too. I can tell.” Namjoon never doubted that but it’s always nice to hear.
“What about you? Do you have any siblings?” It should be an innocent question but the silence that follows feels heavy and loaded.
“I did. My little brother. He was five. He spiked a bad fever one night and had to be rushed to the hospital. My father packed him up in the middle of the night while I slept. My mother woke me up at 4 am in hysterics. We drove to the emergency room and I watched my parents fall to the floor from across the room as the doctor told them he didn’t make it. I couldn’t hear what they said from that far away but it was obvious. I’m haunted by the sounds of the storm that was raging outside as the windows shaked around me. Acute bacterial meningitis.”
“Fuck, Y/N. I’m-”
“Don’t,” you interrupt. “Don’t say you’re sorry. You have no idea how many times I’ve heard that. It doesn’t bring him back, nothing will. I’m just left with distant memories of what his laugh sounded like, and this stupid fear of storms that just reminds me of the day my family broke apart.” Your words are being spit vehemently, your throat clearly closing up as it tries to choke back sobs.
Namjoon’s arms reach out to scoop you into his chest where you lose it in earnest. You hide into the crook of his neck as he can feel your resolve break. Tears hit his skin but he says nothing. There is nothing to say, he knows. You need something to hold onto as you let the emotions run their course and that’s something he can be for you.
It’s not too long before you catch your breath, great big gasps helping your body to settle back into rhythm.
“God, I’m so sorry. Having a breakdown because of some rain, trauma dumping, having a full breakdown. I must be making a great first impression as a new roommate.”
“Don’t worry about it. I’m just glad you’re able to let it out. Bottling all that up would cause more damage.”
“Who knew I was shacking up with a therapist. It’s the same thing my counselor told me.” You’re back to teasing and Namjoon lets out the tension in his muscles that he didn’t realize he was holding. Your giggles fade off into a comfortable silence. The rain is still loud against the glass but the trembling that shook yo uhas subsided.
“‘Joonie? Can you hold me until I fall asleep?” Your voice is shy, the request bold for someone you barely know but he agrees without apprehension.
He expects you to burrow back into his chest as you’re already nestled in from your impromptu need for comfort but you surprise him by turning around and slotting yourself against him, back pushing into his front.
“Need to sleep on my left side. You don’t mind, do you?” After your revelation, he’d give you the moon if you asked, some spooning was an easy favor to fulfill.
He simply hums in agreement not entirely trusting himself not to put his foot in his mouth at that moment. He allows you to push back until you’re comfortable and slings his arm over your waist, letting his hand hang limp over your abdomen, careful not to push any unspoken boundaries.
You take it upon yourself to scoop his arm up and hold it close to you. Namjoon closes his fingers into a fist to avoid any accidental groping since his hand now rests on your chest, just above your breasts. He can feel the curve of them against his wrist, the mounds pressing into his forearm.
No! He needs to send his mind elsewhere. He tries to focus on the patter of the drops on the window. Pit pat. Would a roll of thunder fit into any of the songs he’s currently working on? What about the clap where the beat could drop? Anything to distract him from how warm you are beside him. The humidity of the storm only aggravates the heat that seeps through his skin, making it clammy and nearly wet. You, wet against him… NO! The heat is pooling at his crotch, the pressure rising when his blood is sent southward to fill a chub in his boxers. No, stop!
He’s trying desperately to inch his pelvis away from where your ass was resting against him. The universe is truly out for his demise because another round of lightning and thunder sends you jumping, forcefully seeking the hardness of his body against you. The grip on his arm turns vicious, your nails digging into his skin and your rear flies backwards in search of a seat and finds an unexpected obstacle.
Namjoon isn’t sure which sound rings louder. The gasp you let out at your discovery or his moan as his hips involuntarily thrust up against your ass. He doesn’t dare even breathe. What were you thinking? That your new roommate was a giant pervert? That he was taking advantage of the situation when all you asked for was some comfort in a time of need? Would you tell Yoongi? His hyung might be smaller than him but he has no doubt the older man could and would beat his ass into next week for this.
He seems to be the only one spiraling into a panic because instead of screaming and shoving him out of bed you only push back again. Your movements are tentative, slowly adding pressure and grinding your ass in circles against him as if trying to memorize the shape of him against your cheeks.
He slips his arm out of your grasp to bring his hand against your hip, pushing it down to pin you into the mattress and stop the maddening teasing.
“Y/N...” His voice comes out rough in between his teeth, a clear warning.
“Are you-?” You don’t need to finish your sentence with words, opting instead to push against his hold and roll your hips backwards again to feel the length behind you.
“I definitely am now since you can’t lie still. I’m trying to comfort you right now, so I am asking very politely to please have some mercy on me and go to sleep.”
For a second, Namjoon thinks he may have been too harsh.You’re quiet against him and he hopes he hasn’t triggered another round of distress with his tone.
The worries ebb when he feels your hand sneak behind to cup where his dick pushing against the fabric of his underwear. His eyes close when the pressure against the head sends little jolts of electricity flying through his body, a loud moan accompanying them.
“What if this is the comfort I need right now? Will you give it to me?” There’s a confidence in your voice now that had been missing when the sun went down. Namjoon is glad to hear it even if it beckons his doom.
He tries his best not to move, simply letting you tease along his length, your fingers wrapped around his cock through the thin fabric barrier. The drag is dry and nearly painful but he still twitches and wets a patch when your hand comes to squeeze at the head at every stroke.
You seem to take the lack of fighting back on his part as encouragement, and you push at the waistband to finally get under his boxers and meet the feverish skin hiding under them. He helps you reach your goal by shimmying the fabric down and under his balls, freeing his cock to let you handle it as you wish.
Your hand disappears for a second only to come back wet with spit and making the first tug of skin on skin both tortuous and heavenly. He can’t help but meet your fist with a thrust, precum dripping into your hand and easing the next strokes.
You’re showing your impatience when you grab his hand from your hip to aim it towards the waistband of your own underwear. You let him figure out the rest and go back to focus on jerking him off, a little harder this time as your hips roll against thin air.
He doesn’t keep you waiting too long, slipping his hand into your panties, realizing you’ve also opted out of sleeping with bottoms. His fingers plunge low and he’s surprised at how wet you are.
“All this just from rubbing against my dick a little bit?”
“No, I’ve been wet since you pulled me into your arms. Stupid thick biceps and big tits. Figured you’d notice it wasn’t just my eyes that were leaking.” Your words come staccato while your hips desperately try to chase his fingers.
He gives you what you seek and dips his middle finger into your heat. Your muscles contract around him, hot and so wet.
“Fuck, more,” you beg. You’re doing your best to clench around him but there’s not enough to bring relief.
“Impatient.” He wants this to last. He’s barely just gotten his hands on you after all the tension of the day finally snapping. He wants to savor it but you seem to have other plans.
“Namjoon, if you don’t start fingering me properly I’ll kick you out of this bed and do it myself.”
In any other situation he’d probably call that bluff, but he doesn’t want to risk you going through with it. He adds a second finger to your core and gets to work on a punishing rhythm. He uses the angle to his advantage and digs the heel of his palm against your clit to grind onto it with every thrust of his hand.
Your threats devolve into mewls. You’re trying to keep up your own pace against his dick but your grasp is loosening and losing rhythm. Hedoesn’t care. It allows him to focus on making you lose your mind, but you don’t seem to agree with the imbalance because you’re tugging him closer to you, tip bumping into the cotton of your panties. The need overtakes you and you’re ripping his fingers out of your pussy, letting it clench around nothing and mourning the loss. Your legs clamp shut to allow you to reach around and pull the fabric away from your entrance. You push back against his cock, trying to guide him through the darkness.
“In. Want you inside.” Your words aren’t quite begging but Namjoon can hear the plea clearlyin your voice.
“Fuck, Y/N. I should stretch you out more. I don’t think you should take it like this.” He knows he’s above average and he’s unsure that between the darkness and your horny haze you've realized quite what you’re up against in the short span of the mutual masturbation session that’s happened.
“I felt it. I know you’ve got a big dick. I don’t care. Fuck. Me.”
He hesitates to argue with you. He doesn’t want to hurt you but he can feel the warm wet heat enticing the head of his cock and it’s hard to ignore the call. He loses his battle and sinks himself into you. He brings his hand back to your hip and holds himself still as you shake through acclimating to his size.
“Oh god, fuck.” He can feel your pussy tightening around him, the pulses of your walls essentially jerking him off and it’s taking all his resistance not to start rocking his hips up to meet your ass.
“I-” He’s cut off as soon as he tries to start.
“You better not say ‘I told you so’ while you’re inside me or else you’ll never be again.” The possibility of this happening again shut him up pretty quickly.
He opts to try and ease you into the feeling, lets his hand trace along your skin, up to your torso. He peppers kisses down your neck and onto your shoulder. His hand seeks out a breast under your shirt and gently takes it into his palm, massaging the flesh as his fingers tweak at the nipple.
He tries to imagine what it must look like pebbled between his thumb and index; the color of them in contrast to your skin. He’s overwhelmed with the urge to slip it between his teeth and test how hard he could nibble at it before you broke, but the current position makes it impossible and he doesn’t dare switch it now.
Your breathing becomes heavier at every pinch and twist. He can feel your chest heaving under his hand and you’re melting against him. The chokehold your pussy has on his cock also lets up a little, allowing you to rock back and forth seeking more friction.
“I’m ready.” Your voice calls him back. “You can move. Fuck me.” He starts slow and careful, long languid strokes out until only the head stays inside you, and back in with a smooth confident thrust; letting as much of his length fit as he can from this angle.
He lets his hand wander once he feels you matching his strokes, backing up to meet him at each push in. Your skin is damp under his palm and the sticky feeling would usually bother him, but he’s too enthralled by the little noises that you make with each movement.
Your hand chases after his, following where he cups at your breast, pinches at your nipple, and he notes the hitch in your breath when his large palm settles loosely at the base of your throat. He’ll have to file that one away for another day.
You eventually seem to grow frustrated with his teasing touches because you drag his hand back south and into your underwear. He spreads his fingers around where the two of you are joined. He can feel your arousal coat his cock and your pussy stretch around him, sucking him in at every stroke.
He brings his fingers up to finally give your neglected clit the attention it’s been craving. You can feel how it’s throbbing with desire. You don’t bother trying to suppress the moan that comes out in nearly a scream when Namjoon presses against your bundle of nerves with skillful pressure and maddening circles.
It’s still slow. Everything is infuriatingly slow but you can’t find your voice through the groans and gasps to ask for more, so you let him set his torturous pace and drown in the electricity coursing through your body.
You take up the mantle that he’d been forced to leave behind. You feel too good to ask to change positions but you mourn the lack of his other hand which is forced under him, unable to wreck the same havoc on your body as its twin. Your right hand travels to your torso, attempting to mimic his earlier teasing while your left holds onto his wrist between your legs to keep yourself grounded.
You melt into his touch, head lolling into the pillow. Namjoon takes advantage of your neck opening up. He finally gets to use his right arm to push his upper body enough to dip his head down where your shoulder meets your neck to attach his lips to your skin. The added feeling of his teeth biting down, paired with a hard suck and lick of his tongue sends you reeling. You push back harder, urging him to thrust in rougher, as deep as the position allows.
“So big, Joonie. Can feel you so deep.” You’re pushing his buttons and it works. You’re riling him up and he lets it happen. You sacrifice the feeling of his fingers on your clit to bring them up just above your pubic bone and push down hard making the head of his dick hit against the front of your walls. You know he can feel it push against his hand every time he hits home.
You know when he registered what’s happening because he’s pistoning into you with renewed vigor, each thrust stronger than the one before. The new pressure from his hand makes everything feel euphoric.
“Shit, Y/N. So fucking tight around me. You feel so good, sweetheart.” The praise falls from his lips without thought and the endearment slips through with ease but there’s no time to focus on it. You’re clenching around him, being brought to the edge.
Your hand replaces where his had been, fingers wild and frantic on your clit, pushing you towards your orgasm. It doesn’t take long to hit and your body goes rigid in his arms. Your muscles scream as they twitch and the wave radiates out from your core and washes over you to the tips of your limbs.
The shaking in your body subsides but the throes of pleasure still buzz under your skin from where Namjoon hasn’t slowed. He continues to push and pull his way into your body, keeping the tension alive.
“You sound so fucking hot when you cum. Feel so perfect around my cock.” No words come in reply to his, only mindless moans answer the praise. You want to tell him how good he feels inside you too, how you still need him so desperately.
“More!” You manage to gulp through the overwhelming feeling surrounding you. “Want to feel you deeper.”
His hips stutter in response, your words hit him in the pit of his stomach. He wants to give you more, whatever you want but he can’t go any further from this angle.
“Gonna have to move us around for that, okay?” His voice is muffled from where his mouth is still dug into the crook of your neck, breath heavy near your ear.
You’re nodding without giving it much thought. Whatever he wants, he can do anything he wants. You’d agree to anything if it meant getting more of the addictive feeling coursing through your veins.
His cock slips out of you and you barely have the time to whine at the loss that a yelp escapes you instead as you’re hauled up and around to land firmly on his lap, underwear being ripped away in the switch, Namjoon now spread beneath you. Your hands fly forward to balance yourself, knees planted on either side of his hips.
“Holy hell, I was kidding earlier with the tits comment but…” You let your hands finish the implication as they grab at the flesh of his chest, nails digging into his skin. “Can you flex for a second?”
His muscles tense under your touch and you can’t help the groan that slips out in response. His chest is rock hard now and you feel your body rise with the strength imbued in it. You let your hands drift downwards, nails dragging behind. You wonder if the marks will still be there tomorrow for you to see the damage you're leaving in the light of day.
You can feel each bump on his abdomen where the muscles bulge out and dip back in. You’re surprised to feel the smooth velvet tip of his cock hit your hand so quickly. You’re barely halfway down his abs and the realization of how big Namjoon actually is sinks in.
The previous position wouldn’t have had him remotely close to fully sheathed inside you. The anticipation of really feeling his entire length has you grinding down and sliding along him, trapping him between his stomach and your sopping folds.
He bucks up to meet the pressure, hands holding firm on your waist, following the pace you’ve set. He lets you roll on him, his sensitive head catching on your clit and every loop which elicits moans from both of you.
He’s sure he could cum from this alone, but he’s aching to feel you sink down on him entirely. There’s a desperate plea on the tip of his tongue, an encouragement for you to lead him back inside but he keeps quiet. He wants you to make the decision and go at the pace you need. Despite the shift in situation, Namjoon still feels the vulnerability you’re under.
His hand drifts up, letting fire spread along your skin. The electricity in the air isn’t only from the storm anymore. He’s gentle as he cups your breast, content when he can feel your chest arching forward to chase after the pressure of his touch. Your nipple pebbles despite the hot and humid air.
“Perfect,” he murmurs under his breath. He’s sure it’s low enough to stay a private confession but the low moans mixed with your thighs tightening against his hips reveal otherwise.
The praise urges you on, reigniting your movements. Namjoon almost fears you’re moving away, off from your seat on top of him. His hands are quick to reach back for yours; a silent imploration to stay but they’re unnecessary. The pressure on his chest where you anchor yourself grounds him. There’s a shake where your balance falters so you can reach beneath you and grab at his cock, holding it straight towards your core.
The darkness hadn’t bothered Namjoon until this moment. He’ll rue this day for his entire life for stealing the vision of your expression as you slowly sink down on his entire length for the first time. The whimpers that escape, as you take each inch further, are only teases compared to the satisfied groan that comes once you’re fully settled back in his lap. The entire situation is torture. The heat of the stifling summer night is nothing compared to the scorching embrace of your walls around him. There’s aftershocks of your muscles spazzing around him that pair with more moans while you acclimate to the feeling of him inside you.
Namjoon’s mouth is dry and his brain is empty. There’s a strong instinct to move, a twitch in his arms to use his strength to lift you up enough to have you slam back down but he resists.
He can hear your breathing even out, big gulps of air diminishing to a more normal rhythm. You’re fidgeting, torso lowering to come parallel to his until your breath hits his throat. He doesn’t even realize your hand had snaked away until it lands in his hair and you pull on the strands to allow your lips to stroke at the cartilage of his ear, a warm tickle accompanying your words.
“You’re so big, Joonie. Feel so full.” He knows it’s the sign he was waiting for when you end the compliment with a strong squeeze that he can feel through his entire body. All the restraint he had exhibited snaps.
It all happens at once. He reaches for a fistful of your hair to keep you still as he clumsily seeks for your lips with his own. The kiss is aggressive and too full of teeth clanking together at first. It eventually melts into something more salacious. Your lips are hot and slippery but Namjoon is aiming for more.
You’re too distracted to notice that his stance has changed. He jostles you as he plants his feet into your mattress to give him the best angle to properly pound into you. The first hard thrust is paired with a well timed bite of your lip which has you opening your mouth with a shout of pleasure. He takes advantage of the position to delve his tongue into a battle with yours, turning the dirty kiss into an even wetter mess.
Neither of you can hear the storm over the slaps of skin, low groans, and high whines from inside the room. “You hear how wet this pussy is for me? Sound so fucking pretty, bet it looks even better. We’ll have to do this again, right? So I can see you leaking over my cock properly.”
If you’re answering him it’s unintelligible in the mumbles melted into the moans that continue to spill out of you. He’s taking it as an agreement from the tightening of your core around him.
His legs eventually lower behind you, pushing you to straighten back up and work to keep up the faltering rhythm. The heat and late hour seeps into your bones but the exhaustion that lies at the edge of your consciousness is no match for the fire in your veins that feeds the lust inside you. Your hands reach behind you and grab onto meaty thighs. God, you’ll need to talk about those in the morning because you don’t have the energy to trigger another round tonight. Your head falls, back arching towards the sky. It gives Namjoon the opportunity to roam your body, soft strokes and harsh grasps.
“Come on, Joonie. What good are those big biceps for if you can’t fuck me harder?” The taunt works like magic to reinvigorate him. Large hands come back to your waist, palms digging hard into your body above your hip bones. His thumbs aim towards your core, pushing into the softness above your pelvis. It’s not as obvious as the first position on your side but he can definitely feel the shift under your skin where the pressure of his thrusting cock pushes against his fingers.
“Shit, Y/N, never felt pussy this good. My perfect girl. Are you close? Can you cum for me, baby?”
“Y-yeah, so close- fuck. You feel so good.” It wasn’t a lie, you’ve teetered on the edge for a while but you just needed a little extra push. Namjoon’s hold on you is strong enough to allow you to sneak a hand to where the two of you are joined. There’s only a flash of pleasure before your fingers are slapped away.
“Nuh uh, my job. If you want to be touched a certain way just ask for it. You’re a big girl, use your words.”
If he kept talking to you like that maybe you wouldn’t need the extra help after all but that’s an experiment for another day. “Please, Joonie, want to cum. Touch me.”
He dares to slow the pace, still upkeep the long hard strokes that hit deep inside you. “Is that the best you can do? You’re about to cum all over my cock and I’m still just Joonie? You’re not being very clear, you know. I’ve got my hands on you, I’m already touching. Be more precise. What do you want, princess?”
He’ll be the death of you, you can already tell you’ve set yourself up. Your words are coming out in choked sobs, your climax on the brink. “Please!” you exclaim, “Namjoon, please play with my clit and make me cum all over your big cock.”
He didn’t expect you to take the bait so strongly, but you asked so politely, who would he be to deny your request.
“Good girl. I’ll give you anything you ask for if you do it like that. Look all innocent but you’re just a desperate little thing, aren’t you?” His words are paired with increased speed. He pistons into you with such force that you swear you’re floating above him. The world falls away when his thumb finally comes to rub tantalizing circles around your nub, the movement a little clumsy form how wet it is between your thighs.
It doesn’t take much to reach elation. White light explodes behind your eyes making you believe the power may have returned for a second. There’s electricity living in your nerves that travel down your limbs. There’s a rawness in your throat you assume was birthed from the scream that still echoes around the room.
You catch your breath on a pile of loose limbs draped over your new roommate’s huge frame. Your muscles are spasming from the outside in. You can tell that Namjoon definitely feel it from how tense his muscles feel under your fingers. You purposefully constrict around him and the answering grunt confirms your suspicions.
It takes a second to gather enough strength to sit back up while keeping him snuggly inside you. You wish you could look into his eyes as you roll your hips over him. You know it’s not as stimulating as the hard thrusts from earlier but the sweet sounds you hear from under you seem to have him perfectly content.
“Fuck, you never stop surprising me but you really need to get off because I can’t last anymore.” There’s a tension in his tone, one that you’d hear from someone holding onto a loosening grip that could result in falling to their doom.
You let the nail from your index dig into his skin and leave a burning sensation behind as your scratch down the valley of his pecs, from his clavicle to his abdominals. “Good. Then my plan is working. Your turn to cum for me.”
“Oh, I will. The second you get off me, it’s torture to keep it in, so please-” It’s his turn to beg but you’re not as ready to give in to his demand this time around. You only double your efforts, rolling hips and tight squeezes.
“Go on, then. You wanted me to ask for what I want? Cum. I’m safe and I want you to cum inside me, Namjoon.”
There’s black magic in the way you say his name, it’s hypnotizing. Or maybe it’s the imaginary visual of what you’d look like splayed out with his cum seeping out of you that does it.
He brings his fingers back to your sensitive clit and the pressure is almost too much. You nearly beg him to give you a break but he interrupts you before you can start. “One more time, with me. If you want me to fill up that sweet pussy, you’ll have to milk it out of me.”
You can’t tell whether it’s the pressure on your clit or the dirty words from his mouth, but the wave of pleasure comes back with a mighty force and crashes through you again. You can feel your core tightening around him in spasms which triggers his own release. You can feel his cock spurting inside you, an extra layer of warmth seeping into you. You can’t hold yourself anymore and flop onto Namjoon, both of your breaths heavy and labored.
His hand strokes comfort onto your back. You don’t even mind how sweaty you both are, sticking to each other. “We should get cleaned up,” he suggests.
You dig your face into the crook of his neck in protest. “No. Tomorrow. Don’t want to move. You still feel good, don’t want you to pull out.” You purposefully twitch to make your point. His cock may be softening but it’s still firmly plugging you up. You both know you’ll regret it in the morning but you couldn’t care right now.
The exhaustion you both feel settles into contentment as sleep pulls you in. You both fall asleep without even noticing that the storm has also fallen into slumber.
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Okay, so maybe Namjoon was a little dramatic about being abandoned because it’s only a week later when Yoongi is back in his old apartment from a weekend brunch date with his friends.
You and Jin are bonding in the kitchen. Yoongi can hear his boyfriend’s windshield wiper laugh mixed with your giggles that he’s always compared to a hyena. He expected the atmosphere to be a little awkward when he came in, both of the new roommates a little shy and fond of individual activities.
But when he let himself in earlier he found both his friends sharing the couch in the living room, each with a book in hand,which wasn’t surprising, but your feet perched on Namjoon’s lap, that was a little surprising.
He had let that slide easily enough. His suspicion returns simply from how much smiling Namjoon has been doing. Smiles wouldn’t be odd for most but Yoongi has heard that man’s music lately and he’s the definition of a Sad Boi™.
The pieces fall into place when you bring in the plates and there’s lingering. From your fingers on Namjoon’s when you exchange the dish to his eyes on your ass when you turn away. Yoongi stares Namjoon down, deadpan. His friend’s eyes widen in panic once he realizes he’s been caught. Yoongi’s always been able to read him like a book.
“You motherfucker,” Yoongi spats at him just as you reenter the room.
“Now now, Yoongles. Do we need to call Dr. Lee to go through your mommy issues again? We’ve already established I’m not your mother.” You take a seat on Namjoon’s lap as if to make a point. “Besides, there’s only one person that gets to call me mommy now.” The look you and Namjoon share might be the final drop that makes him go dig for his old psych’s number that night.
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secretsecretbunny · 14 days
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i NEED more bts texts… so like maybe one where reader leaves in the night and he’s frantic thinking she left but she actually had some kind of emergency (family or other) and FLUFFFFFF!!!?
any of the boys idm or all if you want? idk anyway ily and ur work <3333
here you go!! I hope it's alright, I got a little carried away with it lmao. there's 21 screenshots 💕
• angst/fluff ??? hurt/comfort ??? idk, read it 😭
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-> BONUS:
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masterlist
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bts-0t-7 · 3 months
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BTS | KNJ | FIC RECS
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Here is the Namjoon Collection!! Just a few of my favourites. I hope you guys enjoy it as much as I do!
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Dom daddy Joon, @joonsmagicshop (Namjoon/Reader Jungkook/Reader, daddy kink, masturbation)
Caramel, @casuallyimagining (fluff, angst, slice of life)
Oh, Honey!, @yoongiofmine (Fluff, angst, so much smut, strangers to lovers, sugar daddy au.)
What's left of us, @yoongiofmine (fluff, angst, smut, non idol au, exes au.)
Out of the woods, @angelicyoongie (fluff, angst, slight smut, wolf hybrid namjoon x human f!reader)
There's gonna be no take two, @sopebubbles (Idol!Kim Namjoon x reader, angst)
Reckless, @vyduan (angst, idolverse, friends to lovers, slow burn, canon compliant)
Drunk in love, @joon4eva (one-shot ; friends-to-lovers au)
Gift Wrapping, @btsqualityy (fluff, slice of life)
We have time, @souryoong (boyfriend!namjoon x reader, smut)
Prohibido, @personasintro (brother's best friend au, fluff, angst smut)
Bellisima, @personasintro (parents au, fluff, smut)
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jjksblackgf · 1 year
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the lick it series
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summary — it's in the ups and downs of life that you can find someone to make your toes curl. genre — smut, established relationship au rating — 21+
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cater to you
pairing — kim seokjin x reader summary — Seokjin likes to get pampered by his partner. He's also a fan of the ponytail trope. He thanks heavens everyday for dating someone who knows what he likes. release — link here
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no rose petals
pairing — min yoongi x reader summary — Min Yoongi is a man that knows how to plan a date night. but he can't get too mad when his date deviates from those plans. release — link here
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salty treat
pairing — jung hoseok x reader summary — a boring date night at the movies always has a chance of getting more interesting. but Hoseok needs to keep it together before they get caught. release — link here
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too daring for you?
pairing — kim namjoon x reader summary — Namjoon can't keep your roleplaying idea off his head, so he'll make sure to surprise you with it when you least expect it. release — link here
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champagne & suds
pairing — park jimin x reader summary — a romantic trip is only complete with a nice bottle of champagne and the comfort of a bathtub. release — link here
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blue waters
pairing — kim taehyung x reader summary — you can always count on the fresh breeze of the Maldives to inspire young hearts for some exhibitionist shenanigans. release — link here
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cherry flavored
pairing — jeon jungkook x reader summary — You bet with your boyfriend that he can't handle more than five minutes of your tongue, but Jungkook never turns away from a challenge. You'll make sure to keep him in his place. release — link here
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spiceofvy · 2 months
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Can you please write dumb/cute/random things BTS members will do while they are crushing on reader?
BTS - Things they do when they are in love with you
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cw: gender neutral reader, sfw, just pure fluff
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Seokjin: Takes lots of photos with you. He just wants to remember everything he does with you. Would totally use every new selfie of the two of you as his new lockscreen. Even if you don't feel pretty or are in the middle of eating something he quickly whips out his phone to take a selfie with you. And of course taking a lot of candid pictures of you, to use as lockscreens too. And if you ever call him out for it he just pretends that he just likes to see his own face which definitely is also true but not the main reason.
Yoongi: Always lets you into his space. As soon as he realizes how much you mean to him you get the code to his studio. Free entry, no texts beforehand. He just wants you around him all the time and he doesn't mind sharing his space with you. May it be to eat together, so you can watch him work while you relax or even working simultaneously on different things. He is fine with all of it. And while everybody has to be cautious about not bothering him, you don't have to because he could never be annoyed with you.
Hoseok: Wants to be friends with your friends. He just loves spending time with you and there is no better way to get closer to you than with friend hangouts. Definitely adds everyone on social media after meeting them once and makes it a big deal to spend some time with them so not only they get a good opinion of him but also so you can see how well he fits into your already existing life. Also will ask for embarrassing stories about you.
Namjoon: Gets even more clumsy. All you need to do is to walk into a room for him to literally drop whatever he is holding. But also just trips over things, pushes things over and all that good stuff. Your presence is just too much for him and he doesn't know how to move his body when you are watching him. Also forgets how well spoken he is and says the dumbest stuff while stuttering. Congratulations, you burned his brain away.
Jimin: Texts you all the time. And I mean it. Nonstop. He is getting his makeup done? He texts you. He sits in the cab to get to the venue? He texts you. He is just about to fall asleep? He texts you. It's just his favorite activity and even if you can't answer immediately he just needs to tell you everything he thinks about. Also sends you so many selfies all over the day. No matter if they're funny or pretty.
Taehyung: Collects little trinkets for you. He almost always thinks of you and in turn always sees something that he thinks would be perfect for you to have. Maybe it's a rock that works well for your collection. Or a CD of your favorite artist you don't have yet. Or just a neat seashell he finds at the beach. Always also really proud about giving them to you, excited to see your happy reaction when he gives you something.
Jungkook: Is so excited to be around you. Whenever he sees you he gets like the brightest smile ever, jumping up and down so happy to see you. Will also maniacally laugh about everything remotely funny that you say. Just so happy to have your attention. He talks non stop, wanting to impress you and hopefully make you laugh. Asks everyone who was with you later if they noticed how you smiled at him or laughed about the joke he made.
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tsukisrants · 7 months
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The Babysitter - Kim Namjoon
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Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 5.240
Genre: Smut
Warnings: Age Gap (Reader is 18 and Nam is 27), Babysitter!Namjoon, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Spit kink, Verbal humiliation, Degradation, Praise, Choking, Face-Slapping, Hair-Pulling, Rough Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Size Kink, Spanking, Slight Breeding Kink, Creampie.
Snippet: “Little girl isn’t so little anymore, huh?” he says, smirking as he gets closer to you.
-smut under the cut-
"This is so ridiculous," you mutter.
As you tidy up the room, folding the clothes that have been piled up for days, you repeat to yourself that all of this doesn't make sense.
You're not a child anymore, and it's not fair for your parents to continue treating you as if you were one.
A babysitter.
As if you were still eight years old.
You sigh heavily, running a hand through your hair.
You move it away from your face and turn to look at yourself in the mirror.
You're an adult now.
But your parents don't seem to truly realize that.
They'll be away for the weekend and they don't trust leaving you alone at home completely.
You, who were looking forward to enjoying some time for yourself, find yourself having to succumb to their paranoia and let this little dream of peace be swept away by the arrival of this damn babysitter.
"He's not a real babysitter, Y/N. It's just Namjoon, that dear boy, doing us a favor and keeping you company. Stop acting spoiled," you hear your mother's voice repeating incessantly, like an unstoppable litany that accompanies you with every step you take inside your room.
Namjoon.
You haven't seen him in a long time now.
A few years older than you, he earned some pocket money helping your parents with household chores and being your babysitter.
When you were eight, and he was seventeen.
But now?
Now you're eighteen, and he's twenty-seven.
It even surprises you that he agreed.
He came back to town for some reason unknown to you, and your parents immediately roped him in (although your mother keeps insisting that he volunteered).
Just the idea of seeing him again terrifies you, embarrasses you.
He was your first crush, the one you hid behind walls to watch him do chores, the one who made you blush to the point where you could feel the skin on your cheeks burning.
You were truly pathetic, following him around like a lost little puppy.
But you were just a little girl at the time.
Now, you are not anymore.
So, as you change for the evening, you curse your parents and their stupid trip and their stupid fears.
You put on a pair of shorts and a hoodie and, with an expression of pure disdain, you leave your room, determined to hide there soon enough.
As you descend the stairs, you hear voices echoing through the house.
Absentmindedly, you adjust your glasses, and immediately feel a shiver run through your body when, among two familiar voices, you hear a very different one: deep and raspy.
It must be Namjoon.
You take a deep breath, then enter the living room.
He’s there.
The three of them, immersed in conversation, don't realize you finally left your room and joined them.
You take advantage of these moments in which they still haven’t noticed you to look at Namjoon as best you can.
He's a man now.
Far from the boy you remember.
He's tall, imposing.
Beautiful.
Incredibly beautiful, breathtakingly so.
So beautiful it hurts.
Disheveled hair, powerful hands, and broad shoulders.
Just looking at him, you feel small.
Lost in admiration, you don't realize that your parents have stopped talking to him and that all the three of them are now looking at you.
You blush under their gaze.
Under Namjoon's burning gaze.
He looks at you from head to toe with an expression you can't decipher, and you nod a greeting, moving your head and attempting a smile.
When Namjoon returns your smile, for a brief moment you feel like you've returned to being that little girl who timidly asked her big brother (because that's what you were used to calling him) to help with homework, or to pick you up and carry you from one room to another when you pretended to be too tired from school to do it yourself.
He spoiled you like never before, and you're not sure if you can find traces of that sweet and sensitive boy on his face anymore.
You’re not sure you mind.
As you two go on with what seems to be your own little staring contest, your parents leave the room to go get their bags and eventually leave.
You stand in front of him, unsure of what to do or say.
He beats you to it, and his voice makes you squirm on your feet.
“Little girl isn’t so little anymore, huh?” he says, smirking as he gets closer to you.
His words embarrass you, and once again you feel your cheeks burning.
One of his hands finds its place in your hair, tousling it just like he used to do when you were a child.
"Namjoon!" you exclaim, slapping his hand away.
He tilts his head to the side, a mocking expression on his face.
"Y/N!" he responds, mimicking you.
Then, he bursts into laughter. The thunderous sound caresses your body, and without even realizing it, you find yourself laughing along with him.
"You're not a kid anymore either," you let slip.
In response, his smirk intensifies, and you roll your eyes.
Namjoon is about to reply or retort, but your parents interrupt him before he can do so.
Your mom approaches you and hugs you, and you find yourself reminding her once again that she's not leaving the country to go to war, but for a love escape with your father. She silences you, and while your father chuckles and says goodbye to Namjoon, she shows all her concern and bids you farewell with another never ending list of recommendations.
When your parents finally leave the house, you release a sigh that you didn't know you were holding back.
You enjoy the peace that echoes in the house, but it doesn't last long: when you turn around, you are greeted by the sight of Namjoon sitting with his legs spread wide open on the couch, scrolling through his phone.
You remain still for a moment, feeling insignificant in front of the scene before your eyes.
Namjoon doesn't pay attention to you, too busy fiddling with his phone. That is until he moves his head to push his hair away from his face and meets your gaze.
"I'm ordering something to eat, kiddo. What do you prefer?" Namjoon asks, tapping the couch with his hand to signal you to come sit next to him.
You struggle to find an answer at first. Then, mumbling some excuses, you approach him.
"I'm not a kid," you reply, before letting yourself fall onto the couch, keeping a few inches of space between your bodies.
Namjoon simply raises an eyebrow and nods in response. It's not convincing at all, and you huff, exasperated.
Adjusting your sweatshirt and pulling its edges to cover your legs as much as possible, you think about his question. Eating now seems impossible to you. Your stomach is in turmoil because of him, and you hate yourself for it.
You thought you had grown up, but now it doesn't seem that way anymore. Not with him so close.
Namjoon makes you feel small and helpless just by being close to you.
And your mind starts to wonder how smaller you’d feel with him towering over you.
You shake your head and push that thought away, shivers running down your spine just from thinking about him touching you.
"Pizza. Pizza will be good," you mutter, while also scrolling through your phone to try to distract yourself, at least a little.
Namjoon nods and orders for both of you.
You're grateful that the search for food has kept you somewhat occupied.
Namjoon is now looking at you.
You can't read his expression, but you only know that it weighs on your body.
As he looks at you, he tilts his head to the side, hinting at a smile.
You talk for a while: he tells you about his travels, his adventures around the world.
You get lost in listening to him, and between one story and another, there are jokes and small provocations.
But at the same time, lost in the conversation as you are, you feel time stand still: or rather, go back.
When it's your turn to speak, you regain the enthusiasm you had when you were just a child, and his eyes don't miss a single movement of yours.
You swim in the pleasure of having all the attention on you, for you.
"You've grown up well, little princess," he murmurs after a while, and Namjoon messes up your hair again.
You roll your eyes, sighing heavily.
"Stop it, I told you! I'm not eight years old anymore, you know?" you retort, and you almost stand up to stomp your feet on the ground out of frustration.
Namjoon chuckles before running his tongue over his soft lips.
"Believe me, Y/N, I've noticed," he murmurs, as his eyes roam your body from head to toe, caressing your skin.
You blush, and feel a warmth starting to build in your lower abdomen.
"But that doesn't mean you can't be my little princess, right? Like the old times, little one," Namjoon says, and his eyes start to darken, his gaze becoming more intense.
You watch him discreetly adjust his pants, and your eyes widen at the thought of what that might mean.
Is he... getting turned on by this? Are you turning him on?
But it can't be, not while he's talking to you like this.
Yet, the scene in front of you seems clear enough.
You don't dare to do much, but you allow yourself to dream, to hope.
You hope he might want you the same way you seem to be dreaming of him.
You try to argue back, to find a way to respond to him, but you are interrupted by the doorbell ringing, snapping both of you out of your thoughts.
As you go to stand up and answer the door to the delivery person, you are stopped by Namjoon.
His hand grabs your wrist, squeezing it tightly. He holds you in place, standing in front of him.
His hand is so big that it completely immobilizes your wrist, wrapping around every inch of it.
You furrow your eyebrows and tilt your head to the side, confused by his gesture.
"Where do you think you're going?" Namjoon growls.
"T-to open the door?" you respond, hesitantly.
"Not dressed like that, you're practically naked," he retorts, standing up himself.
Still holding your wrist tightly, Namjoon is in front of you: your head at the level of his chest.
"I'll open it. You go get some glasses. Come on, go," he adds, before letting go of your arm and passing by you, leaving you alone in the living room.
You hear him talking to the delivery guy, and you think back to the scene you just experienced.
Namjoon got jealous.
He acted out of jealousy, and although it would usually annoy you, you can't help but smile and feel gratified.
And maybe, a little excited too.
You hurry to do as he told you, driven by the desire to please him. You quickly move from the living room to the kitchen, grab two glasses and a couple of napkins, and return to the living room, placing everything on the coffee table in front of the couch.
Namjoon joins you shortly after with the pizza boxes in his hands.
"Well done. Some things never change, huh? You'll always be my good girl," Namjoon praises you, and you almost choke on your own saliva, coughing like an idiot.
He doesn't say anything, but you can't miss the satisfied expression on his face as he sees your reaction.
He places the boxes on the small table and then sits on the floor, on the carpet, motioning for you to do the same.
Of course, you comply.
Obediently, you do as he says and sit next to Namjoon.
He rewards you with a smile and a wink.
In order to escape the pressure of this whole scene, you dive into the pizza, taking a bite and keeping your gaze low on the cardboard in front of you.
For a while, you eat in silence, exchanging light chatter and simply enjoying each other's company.
Then, Namjoon clears his throat.
You've finished eating by now, and you remain seated on the carpet with the TV on to keep you company. You look up to understand what he wants, and he chuckles, leaving you even more perplexed.
"You've got something on your face," he murmurs, pointing to your face.
"Where?" you reply, alarmed, trying to hide your face behind your hands, embarrassed.
"I'll take care of it," Namjoon replies, slowly approaching you.
You startle, and try to shake your head to let him know that there's no need for him to bother, and that you can take care of it yourself.
But he doesn't accept objections.
"Let me do it, little one. I'm here for that, right? Namjoon is here to take care of you," he whispers, before grabbing your face with one hand and forcing you to look at him.
A faint hiss escapes your lips at his words, and you wonder why his tone and way of speaking have such an effect on you.
He rubs his thumb on your cheekbone before sliding it over the reddened skin of your face.
"There you go," Namjoon says, rubbing his thumb against the corner of your mouth.
At this point, you're not even sure if you really got dirty. You realize that you don't care at all.
Not if Namjoon has his hands on you.
"Be a good girl, Y/N, come on..."
You furrow your eyebrows, with your heart beating wildly.
You don't understand what he really wants, or maybe you don't want to understand.
"Open your mouth, baby. Clean up daddy's fingers," he urges, rubbing his thumb over your parted lips.
You gasp, and suddenly you feel unable to breathe properly. You can’t believe your ears, can’t believe that this is actually happening.
You can’t believe you like it so much.
You can’t believe it feels so fucking good.
“N-Namjoon-ie… I-I… what?” you mutter, confusion flooding your mind.
He shakes his head, his expression stern and disapproving of your choice of words.
“That’s not my name, is it? What do you call me, little one?” he asks, finally shoving his thumb past your lips, rubbing it down your tongue before sliding it out your mouth and smearing spit over your lips and chin.
You take a deep breath before finally giving in, arousal taking control of your body.
“D-daddy, please…” you stutter, shaking under his soft touch.
He curses under his breath, his tongue poking at his cheek before sliding across his lips, wetting them.
“Please what, Y/N? What does my princess want?”
Fuck if you know.
There’s not a single coherent thought in your mind right now, so you try to mumble out an answer of some sorts, only coming up with a few pleads and moans.
He huffs out a laugh, so condescending and mean in the sweetest way possible.
“W-want you to…to take care of me. Daddy, please, take care of your little girl, just- whatever you want.”
You are a little ashamed of the desperation with which you utter these words, but you can't stop yourself. Even the shame burning in your stomach is pleasurable: it arouses you to feel this way, desperate and pathetic for him.
And he likes it too, judging by his reaction. Judging by the curse he lets slip and the way his chest rises and falls quickly, his breath labored and out of control.
"Is that really what you want, sweetheart? Are you sure? Daddy wants to do bad things to you. All kind of dirty, nasty things to your tiny little body."
You nod. Trembling like a leaf, you move closer to him, needing to have him by your side. The warmth emanating from his body is comforting, and you feel desperate to have him touch you.
"Do whatever you want to me, I trust you. You've always taken care of me, always. I-I want you to take me. Make me take it, make it hurt, anything.”
Your words greatly gratify him, and are enough to make him snap definitively.
With one hand he grabs your neck, using his hold on you to bring you closer to his body.
Then, your lips collide.
The moment they touch, you will never forget it.
"Fuck, babygirl, you taste so sweet," he grunts against your mouth, his hand around your neck tightening until you gasp, out of breath, and moan against his lips.
Your hips move out of your control, trying somehow to meet with his.
“I’ll make it hurt, doll. Daddy will hurt you so good,” he says, and while he still is choking you, with the other hand he grabs your hair and pulls at it, forcing your head to follow his movements.
Your neck is exposed, and his mouth is on you almost immediately.
His tongue flows freely over your skin, his teeth scraping against your neck before sinking in, biting you hard.
It hurts, damn it.
So fucking painful, and you moan loudly, trembling uncontrollably on his legs.
He bites you, sucking on the skin of your neck. The undeniable mark that you belong to him to mark your skin.
He abandons your neck and, moving away from it, Namjoon takes a few seconds to admire his artwork. He smiles satisfied, before pushing two of his fingers against the bruise forming on your skin.
You flinch, gasping in pain that runs through your body.
"Thank me. Say thank you to your daddy for hurting you, come on. Show me how well you've grown, use your manners."
Your eyes roll back into your head for a moment, as you breathe heavily at his words.
Your panties become increasingly wet, your pussy throbbing and begging for mercy.
"T-Thank you, daddy. Thank you for hurting me, thank you..."
You’re fucking mess: there’s a drop of drool sliding down your swollen lips, your neck is exposed and your hair is all messy from when he pulled it.
“My pretty little slut, so well behaved. Daddy’s proud of you,” he says, before moving forwards to kiss your forehead.
You smile at his gesture, your hands finally moving to touch him: you grabs his shirt and hold it in your hands, keeping him close to you.
“So desperate, aren’t you?”
You nod, because there’s no point in denying the truth.
You truly are desperate for him, and you like it. He’ll take good care of you, you just know it.
"What do you say, little one, do you want dessert? You've been good, so if you want, daddy will let you take his cock in your mouth, what do you say?" he whispers, stroking your cheek with his thumb, before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.
As soon as his words register in your mind, you find yourself begging him.
God, if you want it.
You want to feel it in your mouth, you want him to use you, you want to make him feel good, to make him enjoy it, to be good for him.
You want him to look at you with that look full of admiration, of desire.
You want his eyes always on you.
He smiles at your eagerness, before scooping you from your hips and forcing you to follow him near the couch.
He sits there, legs wide open.
You’re still on the floor, kneeling prettily between his spread thighs.
He grabs your hair and pushes you head down against his crotch, the gesture so harsh that you gasp against the fabric of his pants.
You feel his hard cock against your face, and you nuzzle on it, moaning loudly.
While you rub your cheeks and nose against his clothed cock, he closes his legs, squeezing your head between his powerful thighs.
It’s hard to breathe, but you manage.
“Just like that, little slut. Choke for me, smell my cock, fucking nuzzle on it.”
In contrast with his words and harsh behavior, he pets your hair like one would do to a pet, making you cry out.
“Daddy, want it in my mouth, please…”
He groans, before releasing your head from where it was being pushed down.
“Open up, stick your tongue out,” he orders as he unzips his pants, pulling his cock out of the confines of his black boxers. It’s so fucking thick, the tip wet and shining with pre-cum, veins popping as he slides his hand up and down his cock.
Tongue out, you let saliva slide down from it till falls down your chin and even down to the carpet.
He slaps his cock against your tongue, again and again.
He rubs the tip of it against your face, tracing it and smearing his juices over your skin, making your face all messy.
“You look so slutty, little one. My princess so full of cock. Can’t wait to fuck your pussy,” he moans as he pushes your head down, forcing you to lick his length from the tips and then downwards.
“Take daddy’s balls into your mouth, pretty girl. Choke on them,” Namjoon says, forcing your mouth to open up to suckle at them.
You do as he says, moaning helplessly and sucking on them, rubbing your tongue against the sensitive skin.
While you do that, Namjoon keeps touching himself, grunting and moaning loudly.
Then, he stops.
He quickly grabs his shirt and takes it off.
Now shirtless, he looks even hotter than before.
He takes his cock away from you, and you cry out your disagreement, whining and protesting softly.
Your words die on the tip of your tongue when his hand collides with your cheek.
He slaps you right on the face, making it turn to the side while you hiss in pain, tears filling up your eyes.
“Don’t you fucking dare act like a spoiled brat. You take what I give you, when I give it to you, do you understand?”
When you fail to answer him out loud, only nodding your agreement, he shakes his head, making a clicking sound with his tongue.
“Words, sweetheart. Do you understand?” Namjoon repeats, grabbing your chin harshly and turning your head to face him.
“Y-yes, daddy. I promise I’ll be good.”
Now it’s his turn to nod, before gently petting your cheek, right where he hit you a few moments before. You rub you cheek against his hand, almost purring.
“Sweet little kitten,” he whispers, before bending down and grabbing you by the hips, forcing you to stand up.
“Strip.” Namjoon orders, falling down against the couch, going back to touching himself as he watches you.
Slowly, you comply: you strip under his burning gaze until you stand there completely naked, squirming in your place and blushing. He moans at the sight of you, his hand moving faster as he teases one of his nipples with his hand for a while.
He’s so hot it hurts.
You feel the stickiness between your legs dripping down your thighs, and you rub them together to try and ease some of the pressure you’re feeling.
He notices, and motions at you to get closer, before sliding down the couch and getting comfortable.
“Sit on daddy’s face, doll.”
Your legs almost give out as you hear him utter those words.
You immediately comply, approaching him.
When he notices your hesitation, unsure of what to do, he smiles sweetly at you.
Then, he grabs you by the hips.
As if you weigh nothing, he lifts you up and helps you straddle his face.
It's embarrassing, and you blush deeply.
He moans beneath your body, biting the inside of your thigh.
You flinch, your hands immediately finding grip in his hair.
When his tongue finally meets your wet pussy, the moan that escapes you is almost pornographic.
Your body trembles, and he starts licking you as if you were the most delicious and succulent dessert in the world.
His tongue rubs against your skin, tasting you.
His nose rubs against your pulsating clitoris, and the sensations you feel don't compare to any past experiences.
Namjoon is completely ruining you.
Drops of your pleasure slide down his chin, and he licks your pussy with an unprecedented hunger.
He pushes his tongue inside your warm little hole, fucking you with it, sinking into you again and again.
You feel that, with one hand, he continues to pleasure himself.
With the other, however, he surprises you: he spanks you, hard.
The pain is enough to send you close to orgasm.
"More, p-please..." you whisper, lost in the immense pleasure he is giving you.
He obliges, spanking you again, with even more force. As he hits you, you start to feel your legs shake from where they're wrapped over his head, and you start to call out "daddy!" in a litany, trembling under the force of the pleasure you're feeling.
“C-can I cum? D-daddy! Daddy, please, l-let me cum, please, please…”
He grunts, fucking you even harder with his tongue.
His hands grip at the flesh of your ass so tight it hurts, so tight you know there’s gonna be marks of his touch all over your skin.
“Do it. Cum on daddy’s face, princess.”
You tremble uncontrollably, your body filled with waves of pleasure.
Namjoon fucks you with his tongue while you come for him, showing no mercy.
You pull his hair, using the grip you have on it to keep yourself anchored to reality.
In the end, your body gives in and, overstimulated, you collapse forward, hot tears streaming down your cheeks.
He drinks your juices, your warm juices.
He drinks your orgasm and licks away every trace, before slipping out from under your body and letting you fall onto the couch, your face pressed against the pillow and your naked body exposed.
"Now it's my turn, little one. Daddy is going to fuck this little pussy of yours, break it, rip it in a half," he warns you, kneeling on the couch and grabbing your hips, positioning you as he wants: face down, with your ass pulled up and exposed for him.
He grabs his cock and slaps it against you ass, before rubbing the tip of it against your wet folds, hissing in pleasure as they hug his cock, begging him to shove it inside.
“Hold your cheeks open for daddy, princess. I wanna watch as I destroy this puffy little pussy. Wanna ruin it, make it all sloppy with my cum.”
You moan and follow his orders, grabbing your cheeks and pulling them apart, exposing your holes to him and making your own pussy gape as it begs to be filled.
“Ruin me, daddy. I want you to fuck my pussy, please? Please, daddy? Mess me up, use me…”
He doesn’t make you repeat yourself.
Holding his cock at the base he guides it against your gaping hole before pushing inside.
He’s inside you in one deep and hard stroke. All the way inside of you, your pussy hugging his cock in a tight fit.
“Such a tight little pussy for me,” he praises you, watching closely as his dick opens you up.
Namjoon spits down on you, making it even wetter.
“F-feels so good, love your cock…” you moan, hips moving on their own to meet his strokes.
Namjoon fucks you hard and fast, his cock stretching you to your limit as he pounds into you restlessly, hard and fast.
It’s so fucking loud: you’re so wet that your juices are covering his cock, sliding down the length and balls, the sound of it so obscene and dirty.
"You're such a whore, little one. You really love getting fucked, don't you? My cock-hungry little slut, that's what you are. A pretty princess with her pussy wide open."
His words are sharp, accompanied by the relentless and merciless thrusts of his cock burying itself in you, enough to make you see stars.
You can't even ask for permission or warn him this time.
As soon as his fingers slip between your legs to tease your swollen and needy clitoris, you come for him, gripping his cock like a glove.
Caught in spasms, you feel your own drool dripping down your chin, and your eyes roll back.
You've never cum so hard in your entire life.
“You’re squeezing my cock so hard, baby. Making daddy feel so fucking good, good girl,” he praises you, bending down to leave a kiss on your head.
He fucks you through your orgasm, and now is his turn to chase his pleasure.
He uses your body.
His much bigger figure completely dwarf yours, and you feel helpless under him: he could do anything he wanted and you wouldn’t be able to stop him.
Not that you’d ever try to deny him anything, of course.
You’re his sweet little girl for a reason, after all.
“I-I’m gonna cum soon, love,” he grunts, sweat falling from his forehead as he slides his dick down your cunt.
“I-in me, daddy… Cum in me, breed my pussy.”
Namjoon starts to feel the pleasure take over his own body, and now he acts solely guided by his instincts.
Everything in his body is yelling at him to pump you full of cum, breed you and force you to take it all.
But before doing so, he slips out of your body, grabbing you by the hips and manhandling you with extreme ease, forcing you on your back with your legs wide open.
He gets between them and buries himself back inside your pussy, going back to fucking you.
“Want to watch your face as I dump my load in you, babygirl,” he says, and one of his hands find his rightful place by grabbing your neck.
Your mouth falls open, and he moves forward to spit in it.
When you immediately swallow, the lenses of your glasses wet with droplets of his spit, it’s a sight he cannot resist.
Forcing his cock deep inside your pussy, he stills.
Shaking uncontrollably, he cums.
“Take it. Fucking take my cum, every single drop in this slutty hole, fuck. Fuck, baby, you’re my little cum-dump, that’s what you are,” he moans, bending over to kiss you while he chokes you, hips still moving in tiny little movements as he tries to push his cum as deep as possible inside of your cunt, fucking it into you till he hasn’t emptied himself completely.
“T-thank you, daddy…” you whisper, a big, fucked out smile on your pretty face.
He smiles, too, kissing the tip of your nose.
“Thank you, too, my beautiful princess. You’ve been so good.”
You smile at the praise, hugging him tightly.
He buries his face against your neck, breathing heavily.
You rub his back, and you start to feel your eyes get heavy.
“Can we sleep like this? Want you inside.”
Namjoon nods, kissing your temple.
He shifts both your bodies until he’s on his back and you’re seated comfortably over his body, his softening cock still buried deep inside of you.
You smile, and slowly start to drift away. He watches you sleep for a while, before his eyes finally give out, too.
You sleep like that: tangled into each other.
After all, one is never too old to have a babysitter.
835 notes · View notes
whyse7vn · 7 months
Text
FWB -
[ot7 x reader]
Tumblr media Tumblr media
NAMJOON -
namjoon: u like sunflowers?
y/n: you need to stop giving me flowers after we fuck
namjoon: why?
y/n: people don’t do that?
namjoon: i do?
y/n: and i have way too many flowers in my house rn
we like fuck a lot….
namjoon: but i like getting you flowers
y/n: i know
namjoon: do you not like flowers?
y/n: i do
namjoon: so i should get these sunflowers rn is what ur telling me
y/n: you do not need to get me anything
we fuck cuz i think ur hot and ur convenient
NOT because you get me flowers
namjoon: oh
y/n: oh?
namjoon: ok
y/n: don’t tell me i hurt your feelings
namjoon: you didn’t hurt my feelings
y/n: are you lying to me?
namjoon: a little bit
y/n: namjoon….
namjoon: i’m sorry….
y/n: this is not very no strings attached of you
namjoon: baby :(
y/n: YOU made that rule might i add
namjoon: i take it back
y/n: you can’t take it back
namjoon: i just did
y/n: ur just horny
namjoon: am not
i just like you
a lot actually
i like you a lot
can’t help but buy you flowers
y/n: joon
namjoon: yes baby
y/n: /&/&&&;&;&;
you make me sick
i REFUSE to blush and giggle rn
you do this all the time
u nasty little freak
act like you’re deeply in love with me or something
and then just ghost me for 100 years
and come back when u wanna fuck again
namjoon: not true at all
i ignored you for 2 days
ONE time
y/n: so you ignored me on purpose???
namjoon: you know i would never
was super busy i promise baby :(
y/n: i can feel ur horniness through the screen
namjoon: can you feel all the love i have for you as well??
y/n: see you ARE horny
namjoon: out of love and appreciation
y/n: whatever
namjoon: i’m standing in the middle of this florist looking like and idiot
come on baby
sunflowers yes or no?
y/n: no namjoon
and anways jin is at mine rn
so ur gonna have to wait until he leaves
and that’s IF he leaves
namjoon: that’s ok jin’s a very busy man these days ofc he’ll leave
i can wait
y/n: jin is not a busy man at all
you and i both know that 💀
he’s literally been crying in gc about how bored he’s been at home
namjoon: he has?
y/n: yeah literally yesterday
and the day before that
namjoon: maybe i didn’t see that
y/n: you need to read the gc more silly!
namjoon: ur right baby i do
y/n: ofc i’m right
namjoon: of course :)
y/n: …..
are u fr……
this is not fair
why is he leaving?????????????
namjoon
this was supposed be our catch up time☹️
what did you say to him????
and WHY is he listening to you
namjoon: didn’t say anything
told you he’s a busy man baby
y/n: shut the fuck up
namjoon: not nice :(
y/n: idc actually!
namjoon: you do
y/n: bring me tulips you slut
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JIMIN -
jimin: you need to buy more bread
y/n: ???
jimin: you have no bread
buy some more
y/n: are you in my house rn????
jimin: come home the kids miss you
y/n: motherfucker
jimin: i’m more of a you fucker!
y/n: shut up
jimin: shut me up
y/n: leave my house
jimin: are you on ur way home?
y/n: how did you even get in??
that is highkey very scary jimin!
jimin: do you not want me or something
y/n: hey i never said that did i?
jimin: well ur acting like you don’t want me :/
guess i’ll just leave then
sighs looks out window….
y/n: aw what a shame guess i’ll have to eat this bread i just picked up by myself….
jimin: hey i like bread….
y/n: no way me too…
jimin: you can make toast with bread…
y/n: that’s true and i make really good toast….
jimin: you do….
y/n: so like do you want to have toast with me….
jimin: wow look at you practically on ur knees BEGGING for me 🙄
y/n: whatever
you’ll be the one on ur knees soon anyways
jimin: is that a threat???
y/n: it’s a promise mr park!
jimin: just say you want my hand in marriage at this point
y/n: lol!!!!!!
jimin: i know you do
deep down
y/n: keep telling urself that!
jimin: she wants you jimin 😍
y/n: fucking freak
jimin: she REALLY wants you
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TAEHYUNG -
y/n: you told yoongi we were dating?
taehyung: can’t hear you rn babe
i’m literally drilling holes in the wall
it’s real noisy
y/n: we fuck each other that is it tae i told you this….
taehyung: 🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀 you want me 🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀you need me 🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀 🌀🌀you are my girlfriend 🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀🌀
y/n: stop it
taehyung: you are in love with me
y/n: i am not
taehyung: sorry can’t hear you i’m drilling baby
i told you this already
y/n: drilling does effect your reading ability
taehyung: oh my god the wall dust has gotten into my eyes i can’t see omg someone help me ohhhshuszu
y/n: ur not funny
taehyung: can i come over later 🥺
y/n: can you stop telling people we are an actual couple
taehyung: i love you
y/n: i’m going to drop you
taehyung: in bed?
y/n: should of rejected ur stupid offer when you asked
fwb my ass
taehyung: we have that type of love that it gets just gets so overwhelming in the best way
don’t you agree?
y/n: shut the fuck up
taehyung: you know i like it when you take control
y/n: i’m gonna stop speaking to you taehyung
taehyung: 😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭baby plz😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭
i can’t even breathe without you 🥺
y/n: i mean it tae
taehyung: ok but let me sing for u rq
y/n: no
taehyung: you should let me love youuu
let me be the one tooooo
give you everything you want and neeeeddd
y/n: shut the fuck up
taehyung: i forgot the lyrics hold on
y/n: i am not holding on
taehyung: wait that’s so jack and rose core
i’ll never let go jack 🥺
and then she lets go of him
or does he let go??
idk i forgot
y/n: wish you were jack
taehyung: you into white men???
i’ll be a white man for you
y/n: absolutely not
taehyung: i’ll make you mayo sandwich
think that’s a white person delicacy
y/n: ur getting blocked now
taehyung: ok but we still fucking later???????
y/n: …..
taehyung: ???
y/n: ur so fucking annoying
taehyung: >3<
y/n: 5
don’t be late
taehyung: 🫡
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JUNGKOOK -
jungkook: the weather is so nice rn
y/n: do you want to fuck?
jungkook: please 😭
y/n: just say that next time idiot
jungkook: i’m sorry
just wanted to be a gentleman
don’t want to act like just using you for sex or something
y/n: you literally are???
jungkook: not true!!!!!!
y/n: 🤨
jungkook: i’m very upset that you think that
ur worth more to me than just sex ☹️
y/n: since when??
jungkook: since our first date i think
y/n: our first date????
you mean the time you took me to buy a plan b??
jungkook: no the time we had ice cream…
y/n: AFTER you took me to buy a plan b
jungkook: ☹️
y/n: don’t frown at me kookie
jungkook: don’t u like me?
y/n: ofc i like you
i’m fucking you am i not?
jungkook: yeah but
y/n: but?
jungkook: ☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️☹️
y/n: don’t you understand the concept of friends with benefits?
jungkook: i do ☹️
y/n: so why are you frowning at me?
jungkook: i just thought the benefits would be you falling deeply in love with me and holding my hand sometimes idk….
y/n: kook
jungkook: i’m sorry
y/n: 😐
jungkook: but like…
have you???
fallen in love with me i mean
i mean it’s cool if you haven’t
well not cool
but like cool for you
not really cool for me
but i’ll like cope lol
y/n: sighs
jungkook: changing the subject sorry i’ll cry
but anyways i know i said i wanted to be a gentleman and not act like i just use you for sex or whatever
but i do really need you rn lol
i can come over now right?
cuz i’m on my way lol no joke
i hope that’s ok with you
cuz it’s ok with me
ofc it’s ok with me why did i say that
sorry
but if it’s not ok with you that’s fine
well not fine for me lol
cuz i’m like painfully hard rn
that’s kinda gross
sorry i don’t know why i said that
but it’s ok i can always like
um
fuck some else
?
if ur busy or just not in the mood
i get it
don’t worry
y/n: omg you fuck other people?
wow i’m impressed!!!
you go superstar jk!
jungkook: I DON’T I DON’T OH MY GOD I DO NOT
idk why i said that lol
sorry for shouting
um yeah
i don’t
y/n: oh
jungkook: do you??
not that it matters or anything just wondering
y/n: well
jungkook: actually i don’t want to know lol
sorry for cutting you off btw
i didn’t mean it
well i did but like not in a i don’t care what you have to say type of way but in a if you say what i think ur gonna say i’ll throw up and cry and jump off a building
lol
that was a joke lol
LMAOOOO
ha
i won’t do those things actually haha 😭
i am a tough guy
i can handle if you were seeing other people
i can still come over btw right???
y/n: you talk a lot of shit
jungkook: sorry
i’m sorry
i get that
y/n: i like you jungkook
jungkook: yOU DO???
*you do?
sorry caps
oh wow
thanks ha
lol
i like you too
a lot
y/n: i want you
jungkook: OH
ok OK YEAH
that’s cool lol
in what context tho haha
like you want me as in you want me to be ur bf?
you want me to fuck?
you want me to die????
you want me
and this means it’s ok to come over right?
y/n
hello??
you have an incoming call from kook ♡
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YOONGI -
yoongi: you free? :3
y/n: i am
yoongi: :3
y/n: idk what that means
yoongi: yes you do
y/n: i don’t
yoongi: stop lying
y/n: never lied in my life
yoongi: ur lying rn
y/n: don’t think so
yoongi: shut up
y/n: that’s mean
yoongi: i’m coming over
y/n: for?
yoongi: y/n
y/n: yoongi
yoongi: stop it
y/n: stop what
yoongi: i’m not saying it
y/n: saying what
yoongi: …
y/n: what u coming over for yoongi :3
yoongi: no
y/n: no?
yoongi: changed my mind
not coming over
y/n: ok
yoongi: ok?
y/n: ok yoongi
yoongi: so u fucking other people now
y/n: woah?????
where did that come from
yoongi: ur fine with me not coming over..
you must be fucking someone else
y/n: jealous much
yoongi: SO YOU ARE?????????????
y/n: don’t shout at me
yoongi: i didn’t shout
y/n: you definitely did!
yoongi: i don’t even care fuck who you want
y/n: ok
yoongi: ok??????????
y/n: yoongi
yoongi: no
y/n: are you mad at me rn?
yoongi: no lol
y/n: wtf did i do to you what the hell
yoongi: who is it
y/n: ????
yoongi: give me a letter
y/n: a letter?
n??
yoongi: NAMJOON???????
yeah just go ahead and block me now
fucking namjoon
ur telling me namjoon better than me
LMAOOOO
y/n: tf are you talking about
yoongi: you and namjoon
y/n: me and namjoon??
yoongi: oh
so ur not..
y/n: i’m not following
yoongi: me or namjoon?
y/n: what
yoongi: you following me or namjoon
y/n: on insta??
twitter???
tf are you taking about
work with me here yoongi
yoongi: i’m drunk
y/n: that makes sense
yoongi: i lied
y/n: i don’t believe you
yoongi: i’m outside
y/n: my house???????
yoongi: no the fucking world trade centre
y/n: the what
yoongi: open ur fucking door
i need to kiss you
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SEOKJIN -
jin: IF YOU TOUCH JUNGKOOK ONE MORE TIME IM GONNA THROW UP EVERYWHERE AND RUIN THIS PARTY FOR EVERYONE
y/n: i think he’s so cute tho :c
jin: CUTE?????
he thinks 4x4 is 7 and i heard he never showers
but you see me i know that 4x4 is 24 and i shower regularly
y/n: 4x4 is 16 you idiot
jin: go away
y/n: you look like a loser in the corner by yourself
where ur hoes at seokjin?
jin: my one and only hoe throwing herself all over one of my best friends rn
y/n: no way?
jin: yes way :/
y/n: does she look good doing it tho?
jin: so good actually
i might faint
y/n: why don’t you go talk to her
jin: like i said she’s trying to fuck my best friend rn
y/n: ur no fun
jin: ur a cheater
y/n: i’m single actually
cheating is not a possible thing for me to do rn
jin: ur supposed to be my fwb not jungkooks
y/n: we are not exclusive jin u know this
and anyways sharing is caring!
jin: convinced you’ve lost your mind
y/n: ur wasting my time rn
kookies getting upset i’m not paying attention to him
jin: kookie????
don’t play i’ll throw up rn
watch me
sticking my fingers down my throat as we speak
y/n: no ur not
i can see you yk?
jin: so NOW you’re paying attention to me
y/n: i always have been
how else would i know you’ve been standing in that corner for and hour like the little creep you are
jin: ok it hasn’t been an hour
y/n: ur right
+30 minutes
jin: yeah whatever
you wanna leave rn??
y/n: only if i can bring kookie with
jin: no
y/n: but look at him
jin: he’s pretty ugly
y/n: 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺
jin: i am not sharing you with anybody
y/n: that’s not ur decision actually
jin: it should be 😒
y/n: you asking me out rn mr kim 🤨?
jin: no
well
unless…..
y/n: me you kookie
one night i promise
jin: 😐
y/n: listen
jin: listening
y/n: one way or another i’m fucking jungkook tn
ur lucky i’m inviting you
jin: SIGHSSS
you ARE a cheater
i’ll let you fuck jk if you go on a date with me
y/n: can you not read??
was gonna fuck him anyways
jin: ok but I’LL join if you go on a date with me
y/n: you were joining regardless
jin: not true!
y/n: very true!
jin: ….
if you knew that why were you begging me?
y/n: had to make you feel special somehow
jin: you say that like i’m not?
y/n: you are
jin: i know
y/n: i’m glad
jin: ur so hot
y/n: thank u kookie just told me that 💓
jin: he doesn’t say it like i say it tho
y/n: you sure?
jin: very
y/n: interesting
jin: are you guys coming to the car or what?
y/n: so eager
jin: you blame me?
got to show jk how a real man fucks
then i got to take my girl on the best date of her life
y/n: your girl?
jin: problem?
y/n: *friend
jin: no!
y/n: ???
you can’t just say no
jin: watch me do it again
no!
y/n: i am NOT ur girl
jin: u right
wife 🥰
y/n: no!
jin: don’t use my shit on me
y/n: watch me do it again
no!
jin: ok whatever
ur opinion on the matter isn’t valid anyways
y/n: ???i think it is
jin: no!
y/n: kill yourself
jin: not really into the whole suicide thing
can you come kill me??
i would prefer you take me out via strangulation
y/n: you me sick
jin: come to the car now i’m boredddd
y/n: i don’t see you moving to the car
jin: i’ll move when you move
y/n: whatever
jin: so excited wifey😋🥰
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HOSEOK -
hobi: hey (my dick game insane)
y/n: sometimes i think if i knock on your head i would hear an infinite echo
hobi: hey (my dick game insane)
y/n: or maybe ur skull would just completely collapse idk
hobi: hey (my dick game insane)
y/n: yeah you said that
i bought you a tshirt by the way
was feeling generous
feel blessed bitch
hobi: hey (my dick game insane)
y/n: ok
can you like shut the fuck up
hobi: hey (my dick game insane)
y/n: hey (ok)
hobi: so… (it’s HUGEEEE btw)
y/n: so… (ok)
hobi: hey (no joke basically a third leg)
y/n: ok stop
hobi: no (can we fuck)
y/n: out shopping with family rn ur gonna have to wait
hobi: i can’t (they can join lol)
y/n: ur gross
hobi: ur kinda a shit friends with benefits (want u so bad dick might drop off)
like where are the benefits at rn?? (pls come take care of me)
y/n: i have a life hobi
cant fuck you all the time you know
hobi: boo (please)
y/n: do you not have anyone else that can help u rn?
hobi: are you stupid????? (i think ur stupid)
y/n: don’t call me stupid :(
hobi: sorry pretty (suck my dick pls pls pls pls)
y/n: i am out hoseok
hobi: don’t same my name like that (i’ll cum)
y/n: i did not say ur name like anything
i typed it
hobi: but in that moment and time i imagined the way you say my name (it’s hot)
y/n: stop imagining things then u whore
hobi: i’ll shoot myself (COME OVER)
y/n: stop typing like that
hobi: come over then i’ll stop (rizz)
y/n: shut up
hobi: ..- .-. / ... --- / .--. .-. . - - -.-- / .. / -.-. --- ..- .-.. -.. / . .- - / -.-- --- ..- / --- ..- - / .-. -. / .-.. --- .-.. (morse code rizz)
y/n: why tf do you know morse code
hobi: you never know when you need it i be in a lot of different situations pretty girl (strong brave educated man rizz)
y/n: whatever u freak
hobi: 01110000 01101100 01100101 01100001 01110011 01100101 00100000 01100110 01110101 01100011 01101011 00100000 01101101 01100101 00100000 01100010 01100101 01100110 01101111 01110010 01100101 00100000 01101001 00100000 01100101 01111000 01110000 01101100 01101111 01100100 01100101 00100000 01101001 00100000 01101100 01101111 01110110 01100101 00100000 01111001 01101111 01110101 (binary rizz)
y/n: what the actual fuck
hobi: i’m horny (i’m horny)
y/n: couldn’t tell actually
hobi: lol me gustas mucho no es broma sé mi novia (ultimate spanish rizz)
y/n: girlfriend???
hobi: YOU SPEAK SPANISH?//£:£:&,£:
y/n: you like me??????????????
hobi: BYE LMAO
tags: @piw6n @92jinnies @birdie-vhs @kooksmilitarywife @hob3loveofmylife @jujubiism @bloopkook @ratchetpizza1 @myntalks @arloo00 @watamotee33 @y2kcy3brz @taiwan0618 @indigobsessed @freyadanvers @gguksbeloved @raetf @bbsantc @winuvs @medicinemybish @bxnnyhime @leleluvsbts @baetukki @zyaaaszn @thelilbutifulthings @yojaschill @k4ngelz @jmnscutie
surprise guys ;p
971 notes · View notes
vintagenahbi · 3 months
Text
How They Act During Your Pregnancy
Ot7 x Reader - BTS Reactions Pt. 1
JHope, Suga, RM, V
Summary: How each member takes care of you during your pregnancy journey.
Warnings ⚠️: nervous breakdown, feeling like a burden
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JHope
Hobi and I were in disbelief as we starred at the monitor. His jaw nearly to the floor and mine not far behind. My eyes widened as I glanced over to him. He looked down at me and grabbed my hand tightly. Nothing was said between us- pure shock.
The car ride home felt the ripple effects of that doctor’s appointment. I was five months pregnant and had been waiting for Hobi to get back before we found out the gender of our baby. To both of our surprise, we weren’t having one baby but two. I was pregnant with twins.
I knew for five months I looked a little bigger than most women, but the thought of twins never crossed my mind. I always assumed that it was because I was enjoying the luxury of eating whatever I wanted guilt free without having to feel the pressures of society. Only to find out today that that was not the case. I was eating for three people and the thought of having two at once freaked me out.
Once Hobi and I got home, I decided that it was best if I went and layed down. I had to get my mind right. Suddenly, all the things we bought we were going to have to times it by two.
Hobi sneakily walked into the room and plopped down on the bed. I struggled to sit up, but was finally able to get my back pressed against the bed frame.
“Twins.” Was the only word he was able to muster up. I shock my head in agreement. Hobi started to laugh. I looked at him as if he was crazy. “We are having twins! This is so exciting. You get one and I get one.”
“You’re happy about this?” He looked at me confused as if I was in the wrong by my comment.
“Of course I am.” He starts to rub my belly in small circles. “It’s us in one Y/N. Our two little humans we made. How could I not be happy. Are you not happy?”
I didn’t want to be a downer. I couldn’t lie, I was scared. Terrified. I knew most of this would fall on me once touring picked back up and I was not ready to handle it all on my own. I wanted Hobi here. One baby was going to be hard but two. Don’t get me wrong we have a support system, it’s just not the same when it’s not Hobi.
“Y/N, are you not happy?” He repeated himself.
“It’s not that I’m not happy, it’s a lot. I know it’s going to be a lot on me and that scares me. We are a team but I know sometimes one person on this team can’t always be here.” I looked down at my stomach ashamed of my selfishness. These babies were a gift, something Hobi and I had dreamed about. It’s just two wasn’t in that dream.
“We’ll be okay. I will take care of all of us. You won’t be alone Y/N.” He stopped rubbing my stomach and clenched my hand. I couldn’t help but smile. He let go of my hand and gently grabbed my stomach leaning down to kiss the middle of it. I felt a little flutter and so did Hobi. He’s been so happy and gentle through all this.
“My babies, your dad loves you.” Hobi looks at me again. Tears started to slowly fall down my cheeks. I hated this part of pregnancy. My hormones had me all over the place. Hobi whipped my tears shushing me to calm down. “You want a snack?” I shook my head yes. He hopped off the bed and darted in the kitchen. I was so glad to have him in my life. He was going to be an amazing father to our two little angels.
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Suga
I was at the point in my pregnancy where I was becoming sluggish. All I could do is sleep. Yoongi didn’t seem to mind because he took it as an opportunity to get work done and not have to worry about me. I felt bad that he had to constantly be by my side. Well, I didn’t feel that bad. I love having him around with me, even if I was sleeping majority of the time.
I got up from our bed and wobbled into the kitchen where Yoongi had his equipment set up. He looked up at me and quickly walked me over to the seat next to his. I slowly sat down making sure I felt the seat underneath me first. A task as simple as sitting down was becoming a chore. Yoongi glared at my big belly and placed his hand on my stomach trying to feel our baby boy kick. After a minute or two he finally started kicking away- a little too much. I felt a jab at my side and immediately hunched over in pain. Yoongi started to panic. Rubbing my shoulder up and down to help soothe the pain.
Tears were swelling in my eyes. I had never felt a pain like that before. I was honestly scared. Yoongi and I didn’t have the best luck with trying to conceive and since I had to be on bed rest anything could happen. Yoongi noticed that I started to cry, something I hated doing in front of him. He lifted my head up and held it as he began wiping away the tears.
“Breathe Y/N.” I started to control my breathing. Slowly taking deep breaths. “Okay, just like that.” He helped me get up from the chair and walked me back to the couch. He propped my legs up and sat down with me. I slowly started to drift to sleep.
When I woke up Yoongi was talking to and stroking my belly. I pretended to be asleep so I could hear him. Yoongi didn’t always show this side of him, but when he did I loved hearing it.
“I need you to be calm for mommy. Three more weeks and you can be all energetic and taking over. Mommy and I want to see you, but you have to be nice to mommy okay? I need you both. I want you both to be safe.” I grabbed Yoongi’s hand. It hit me why Yoongi had been so afraid these past months. He wanted me and our sweet boy to be safe.
I motioned Yoongi to move closer to me as I moved my feet off the couch. I held his hand and looked deeply into his eyes. I wanted him to know I was serious. Although it was cliche, I knew he needed to feel seen too.
“We are going to be okay. You, me, and the baby.”
“But what if something goes wrong and I have to pick? I can’t pick.”
“Yoongi, that won’t be the case. Our baby will be okay. I will be okay. Let’s not worry about it. We’ve have so much to prepare for. Soon you know it, we will have sleepless nights and a little us running around the house.” Yoongi kissed my hand. I stroked his cheek and I could feel the stress leave his body. “You’ve been great Yoongi and we will be okay.”
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RM
I burst out of the bathroom door holding my lower stomach. Namjoon looked at me stunned. He dropped his phone to his side and waited to see what my next move was going to be.
“It’s time.” I said in a panic. Namjoon sat there as if he did not comprehend what I had said. I looked at him panicked really trying to figure out what he didn’t understand. It dawned on him. He jolted up and rushed to my side. He grabbed my waist and arm walking me over to the bed. I sat down as Namjoon stood there looking down at me.
“Joon, it’s time.” He didn’t even budge. I started to laugh. He flashed that beautiful smile and started to laugh with me.
“I don’t know why I keep freezing up Y/N?” I grabbed his hand to help lift me off the bed. I knew all that practice and preparation would lead us to this moment. Namjoon would have it down pat on everything that needed to be done and when the time came he would freeze up. I honestly found it adorable. He couldn’t get it together to save his life.
He suddenly started pacing around the room. I was so entranced by his spontaneous movements that I nearly forgot the issue at hand until another contraction hit me. I hunched over again. Namjoon noticed and kneeled down in front of me.
“I’m gonna get the car around okay? We’re going to have our baby. We are going to have a little baby.” I could tell he was having a moment of realization. He was about to be a father. Our little girl was about to have the best father I could ever imagine for her. Namjoon smiled at my stomach, but another contraction hit. “Okay let’s get my little angels up.” He helped me up and grabbed my hospital bag.
“Before we have this baby, I just wanted to say thank you Joon. You’ve been my rock through this and I’m so grateful for that.”
“No need to thank me Y/N. You are giving us the greatest gift of all. My little girl.” I gave him a kiss and we headed to the hospital.
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V
Taehyung walked into the house with a bag from my favorite takeout place. I was five months pregnant and my cravings were going crazy. Half of the time Taehyung could not keep up. One minute I wanted ice cream, the next I needed something savory covered in a sweet sauce. The only perk was I didn’t look that pregnant. It was sometimes hard to believe I was about to have a baby.
Taehyung sat the food down in the kitchen. I got up and looked through the bag. Everything was there but my favorite side. Little things like this made me emotional. Yes, the lack of my favorite side was causing me to get teary eyed.
“Is something wrong?” Taehyung said. I looked at him and tried to play it off. I shook my head no. Taehyung looked in the bag and noticed what was missing. “Would you like me to go get it for you?” I hesitated to answer at first. If he didn’t mind then it’s no big deal, but I felt like I was asking for too much. Nearly being a nuisance for wanting to give into every craving I had. Taehyung could tell I was having an internal debate on what to do. “How about I go back out to get it and your favorite ice cream.” I started to smile.
I stayed at home as Taehyung went back out. I decided to watch tv, but fell asleep the moment I got comfortable. When I woke up, a blanket covered my body and the sun was no longer out. I looked at the clock at it was six forty-five. Taehyung was in the kitchen eating dinner. I don’t blame him. I was knocked out like a light for over two hours. I sat at down at the table and began to dig in. Taking one of each of everything. All Taehyung could do was smile.
“I take it my girls are hungry.” I smirked with my cheeks perked up because my hunger got the best of me.
“Thanks Tae.”
“It’s no problem.”
“I feel bad.” He scrunched up his eyebrows waiting for an answer. “I feel like I ask for a lot. All this back and forth. My cravings, not to mention my emotions all over the place, it feels like I’m a burden.” Taehyung stopped eating and looked at me.
“You are having our baby. Anything you need I will do. You’re the furthest thing from that.” He gave me a kiss on the cheek and we finished our dinner.
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aaagustd · 2 months
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cat and mouse | kim namjoon
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title: cat and mouse pairing: kim namjoon x thief!(f)reader genre/rating: smut, pwp; 18+
summary: every weekend you sneak into one of namjoon's parties and attempt to steal his jewelry. sometimes you get caught; sometimes you get away, but you'll always be back for more. wc: 1.1k warnings: g*ns/w**pons, threats of t*rture/m*rder, reader and namjoon are just something else honestly, reader is captured but all acts are consensual, mentions violence, g*n play (whether it's loaded or not is up to you but in my mind it's def loaded), impact play, f*ngering, c*m eating, finger sucking, hair pulling, cl*t stimulation, pet names (pretty doll, doll, etc), name calling/degradation, restraints/handcuffs, sensory deprivation; unedited lol…let me know if i missed something release date: april 14th, 2024; 12:36am note: hi! don't look at me. someone requested this awhile back lol. i hope you like it anon. it's not much since i've been preparing for room for two but i appreciate you for sending in a request. thank you for celebrating with me.💞
masterlist - inbox - read on ao3 - join my taglist?
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“You’re in trouble now, bitch.”
You can hear the sound of his footsteps before he even enters the room. Even the muffled sound of coming music downstairs doesn’t overpower his aura. Soon the pungent odor of whiskey and decaying molars will be covered by the smell of money, rage, and Chanel. 
As you listen to the cackling—nose twisted with disgust—your fingertips explore your cuffs, knowing that nothing man-made is escape proof.
Your lashes push against your blindfold, trying to make out the four silhouettes standing before you. Once you have found your way out of this mess—and you definitely will—your first vendetta is to take them to your dungeon for some much needed dental work. 
Every single one of those rotten pieces of shits will be remove and shoved directly up their—
“Give us some privacy.”
His voice tears you out of your plot for revenge. 
The room instantly becomes silent, no one daring to speak a word out of turn when it comes to the boss. His dominance needs no introduction as he’s one of the wealthiest and most powerful men to call this city home. 
Crossing him is a death sentence. One you’ve managed to escape several times. Tonight will be no different. 
“You just can’t keep your hands off of my shit, can you?” 
After the room is cleared, he acknowledges your presence and moves closer towards your bound figure. Despite standing for almost an hour with your hands over your head, you show no sign of weakness because you’ve been through worse—much worse.
“I’m starting to think you like getting caught.”
A grin spreads across your face, further testing his patience. “Aw, don’t you miss me, Namjoon?”
“Watch your mouth, pretty doll.”
He grabs you by your jaw, squeezing your cheeks harshly enough to cause a slight discomfort. Still, you laugh in his face unfazed.
“Or what?” you taunt. “Going to rough me up like your brutes did?”
There’s a pause.
“They touched you?”
Namjoon’s body tenses. “I told them not to.”
“It’s nothing I can’t handle, and I’m sure I wasn’t an easy catch.”
“Doesn’t matter,” he replies. “I’m sorry—”
The sound of metal clinking as you attempt to pick the lock of your cuffs pierces Namjoon’s ears like a knife. The sincerity in his tone fades away as it is replaced with anger, knowing he’s fallen for your lies.
“You little bitch. Are you crazy?”
“Just a tad,” you counter.
He pulls his glock from his waistband and places it directly beneath your jawline.
“Drop it,” he demands, referring to the bobby pin tucked between your fingers. 
You allow it to fall to the floor, abandoning this method of escape—but he’s a fool if he thinks you don’t have more up your sleeves.
“Aw, man. You caught me.”
Your sarcasm doesn’t amuse him in the slightest.
“You think I won’t blow your fucking brains out, doll? ‘Cause I will.”
You cackle, throwing your head back and ignoring his threats. Namjoon grabs your hair and reunites the barrel of his gun with your face.
“Does it look like I’m joking?”
You take deep breaths, calming yourself so you can speak. Namjoon keeps a firm grip on you, making sure you can’t squirm away. Little does he know, you wouldn’t dream of moving.
“You aim that any lower and I might make a mess of this expensive ass floor,” you whisper.
You watch the way his head tilts through the fabric as he processes that statement. He ponders over the thought for just a moment, and then lets his curiosity run wild. “Is that so?”
“Only one way to find out.”
“Indeed.”
The weapon slowly travels down your body, making your adrenaline spike as it descends. You know his eyes follow the trail every inch of the way till he reaches your thighs. There, he pauses—allowing you to spread your legs voluntarily before he moves any further.
Your dress starts to rise slightly as Namjoon searches for your center. Upon contact, your back arches—exposing your eagerness to fulfill your twisted fantasy. 
“No panties?”
“In this dress? Be for real.”
Namjoon chuckles, making small circles as his weapon touches your clit. The feeling elicits small moans from your lips, and he doesn’t seem to want to keep them at bay.
“Maybe you were just…prepared?”
He smacks your clit so abruptly you don’t even have time to brace yourself. You bite your lip to suppress your scream, but your whimpering is still a lot louder than you intended. 
“Or that,” you answer breathlessly.
He spanks your pussy a few more times, leaving you trembling and dripping. Juices run down your thighs and Namjoon collects it on his fingers before having a taste. 
You hear him moaning around his fingers, lapping up every drop of your wetness he was able to gather. He goes for seconds, but this time he puts his finger in your mouth—making you taste yourself while he watches you with his dark eyes.
“Nobody should taste that sweet, doll. I should put a bullet in your head right where you stand.”
“Do it.”
“Hm,” he scoffs. “Don’t test me.”
Once again, the steel is in your face while Namjoon’s other hand slips between your thighs. With no warning, he pushes them into your wet crevice, causing you to shriek in surprise.
“Keep playing with…like I won’t blow all your fucking teeth out.”
Thumb pressed against your clit, index and middle fingers deep inside of you—he pleasures your pussy while he spits venom in your ears.
“But I bet you’d like that, huh?” he quizzes. “Twisted little slut.”
“Mm, fuck!”
“Speechless, aren’t we?”
Your eyes roll back when he speeds up. You’re unable to warn him because the pressure building inside of you abruptly bursts, sending you into an intense orgasm. 
“That’s it,” Namjoon coos.
He shows no mercy as you wither with sensitivity, draining you of every ounce of strength you have left. You’re spent by the time his fingers slide out of you. You stand there slumped over, struggling to catch your breath.
“Look at what a mess I’ve made of you.”
Namjoon snatches your blindfold off, and exposes your eyes to the piercing bright lights. You turn your head until your vision adjusts, but even through everything you just endured—your focus never strayed away from your ultimate goal.
“There are a million other things you could be doing, doll. This is getting old.”
Namjoon begins to walk away, thinking you’re still restrained. You don’t waste time letting him know he’s dropped the ball yet again.
“Like what?” 
You purposefully allow the metal to hit the floor so he can hear it. Namjoon stops in his tracks before looking over his shoulder.
“Come with me. You’ll find out.”
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