#Rap Monster

[miujo]

　　　ꈍ　　　𓎠𓎠　　life is better than the death　　 ꔫ

[darthagustd]

I'm already down bad for Namjoon and 2D men.. and now he's both? My heart can't take it

[rispwr]

If i were you i'd do me - JK - MDNI - 6

pairings : fuckboy! jk x fem! reader, established relationship, mentions of smart! namjoon x oc, slow burn, enemies to lovers

contents/warnings : smut, rejection, new character apearances, car sex, semi public sex, implied sex, smut, jealousy, i think that's all. let me know if i missed any

taglist : comment if you wanna be added to my taglists) @crazyovayou @minghaosimp @pitchblack0309 @kpopsmutty69 @ririkookiemonster

word count: 6k words, kinda short

context : Jungkook, the notorious campus heartbreaker and player, unexpectedly becomes your groupmate alongside Namjoon, the guy you’ve secretly admired for ages. However, it seems your feelings have started shifting from Namjoon to someone else entirely unexpected…

Not proofread

The days had started to blur together ever since that revelation. Two weeks had passed, and the heaviness of everything still lingered. Hoseok had been distant—he hadn't visited our house at all. It was understandable, given the circumstances. Finding out that the woman who raised you wasn't your real mother and that your entire past had been a lie was more than anyone should have to deal with.

Mom and I tried our best to comfort him, but he was in his own world. Instead of Hoseok coming to us, Mom and I had taken to visiting him at his place. It was our way of making sure he knew he wasn't alone, that we were still his family, no matter what.

This morning was no different. "Ready to go, Y/N?" Mom called out from the front door.

I grabbed my jacket and met her downstairs. "Yeah, let's head out."

As we drove to Hoseok's place, I couldn't help but feel the weight of it all. Hoseok had always been a light in my life—his positivity and energy were infectious. But now, things felt different. He'd withdrawn, barely speaking when we visited him. I just hoped today would be better.

When we arrived at his apartment, I took a deep breath before knocking on the door. Mom and I exchanged hopeful glances as we slightly opened the door.

As we walked inside, the familiar coziness of his apartment greeted us. The place had always been filled with life—plants, art, music—but lately, it felt quieter, more somber. Hoseok had been spending most of his time in his room, avoiding the common areas as much as possible.

Mom and I exchanged another glance before walking toward his room, hoping to pull him out of whatever funk he was in. "Maybe we can cheer him up a little," I whispered to her.

"Let's hope so," Mom whispered back, her voice laced with concern.

When we reached his bedroom door, we could hear muffled voices inside. I raised an eyebrow, curious. "Is someone else here?" I asked, turning to Mom.

"I don't know," she replied, equally puzzled. "Maybe he's on the phone?"

We both stood there for a moment, debating whether to knock or just barge in. In the end, Mom knocked softly. "Hobi, we're coming in, okay?" she said.

But there was no response, just more muffled sounds, now a bit more frantic.

My curiosity got the better of me. I gently pushed the door open, and—

Chaos.

The door swung open, and the sight before us was not what I had expected. At all.

There, in the middle of the bed, was Hoseok. With Yoongi. Doing it.

Time seemed to freeze as my brain tried to catch up with what my eyes were seeing. Hoseok's eyes went wide with pure panic, and Yoongi let out a high-pitched yelp. Both of them scrambled to grab the blankets, desperately trying to cover themselves.

"Oh my GOD! What the—WHAT THE HELL!" I screamed, my voice mixing with my mom's equally shocked shrieks.

"OH MY GOD, MOM!" Hoseok screamed back, his face as red as a tomato as he tried to bury himself under the blanket, utterly mortified. "W-WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?!"

"We—we didn't know—OH MY GOD!" My mom squealed, her hands covering her face. "We didn't see anything—well, actually, we did, but OH MY GOD!"

Yoongi looked like he wanted to crawl under the bed and disappear. "This is—this is not what it looks like!" he tried to stammer, even though it was exactly what it looked like.

I grabbed my mom's hand and yanked her out of the room, slamming the door behind us. Both of us stood there in the hallway, eyes wide, hearts pounding.

"What. Just. Happened?" I gasped, trying to catch my breath.

Mom stood there, just as stunned as I was. "Did we just walk in on your brother and Yoongi?"

"Yes. Yes, we did," I replied, feeling like the entire world had tilted on its axis.

We made our way to the living room and collapsed on the couch, still in shock. There was a long, uncomfortable silence before I finally broke it.

"I can't believe it," I muttered, shaking my head in disbelief. "Yoongi? With Hoseok?"

"Of all the people..." Mom murmured, her hands still trembling. "I didn't even know Yoongi was—well, I didn't know he was interested in men, let alone your brother!"

"I mean... I guess I never really thought about it," I said, my mind still trying to process the bombshell we'd just walked in on. "But Yoongi? And Hoseok? What are the odds?"

Mom let out a breathless laugh, still dazed by the situation. "I guess we all have our secrets."

An hour later...

After what felt like an eternity of sitting in awkward silence, I heard the creak of Hoseok's bedroom door opening. I glanced toward the hallway, where Hoseok and Yoongi appeared, both looking sheepish and extremely embarrassed.

Hoseok was the first to speak. "I... uh... I'm sorry you had to see that." He couldn't even look at us, his eyes fixed firmly on the floor.

Yoongi, standing behind him, nodded quickly. "Yeah, that was... not how we wanted you to find out."

Mom, to her credit, had managed to compose herself somewhat. She cleared her throat and smiled awkwardly. "Well, I suppose we should have knocked first. That's on us."

I nodded in agreement, though I could still feel my face burning with embarrassment. "Yeah, sorry about that."

There was another awkward pause before Hoseok finally looked up, his face still flushed. "I guess this is as good a time as any to tell you guys. Yoongi and I... we've been seeing each other for a few months now."

That revelation hit like a ton of bricks. "Wait, months?!" I blurted out, my eyes widening. "How did I not know about this?"

"We were keeping it quiet," Yoongi said, scratching the back of his head, clearly uncomfortable. "We didn't want to make things weird, especially with everything that's been going on with Hoseok and his... family stuff."

I glanced at Hoseok, who nodded. "Yeah, I didn't want to add more to the pile of crazy. But... Yoongi's been there for me through everything. I don't know what I would've done without him."

The sincerity in his voice made my heart soften. As much as I was shocked by the whole situation, I could see the love and support they had for each other. It wasn't just some random fling—they really cared about each other.

Mom, who had been unusually quiet, finally spoke up. "Well, Hoseok, I'm just glad you have someone who's there for you," she said gently. "We want you to be happy, and if Yoongi makes you happy, then that's all that matters."

Hoseok's face brightened a little, relief flooding his features. "Thanks, Mom. That means a lot."

I nodded, trying to wrap my head around the situation. "Yeah, I mean, I'm still processing the whole... uh, scene we walked in on, but... I'm glad you have someone who cares about you."

Hoseok let out a small laugh, his cheeks still pink. "Yeah, sorry about that. Definitely not how we wanted to break the news."

Yoongi smirked, a hint of his usual confidence returning. "Well, at least now we don't have to hide it anymore."

I laughed along with them, the tension finally breaking. "Yeah, but maybe next time, lock the door?"

"Noted," Hoseok replied with a sheepish grin.

Later that evening...

I stood in front of my house, my thoughts were already on the evening ahead. Jungkook had texted me earlier, asking if he could come over, and I'd agreed. It had been a while since we spent any real time together, especially with everything going on in my life.

I unlocked the door, stepping inside as the familiar warmth of home enveloped me. The scent of something cooking drifted from the kitchen—Mom was always up to something, keeping herself busy. I texted Jungkook to let him know I was home, and soon enough, I heard a knock at the door.

When I opened it, there he stood, leaning casually against the frame with that signature grin of his. "Hey," he said, his voice low and teasing.

"Hey yourself," I replied, stepping aside to let him in.

We barely made it to the living room when my mom's voice called out from the kitchen. "Oh, Jungkook! Is that you?" she asked, peeking around the corner with a smile.

Jungkook offered a polite bow, looking slightly embarrassed by the attention. "Yes, it's me, Mrs. kim. How are you?"

"Oh, I'm good, dear. How about you? Still causing trouble on campus?" she teased, knowing full well the rumors about his reputation.

Jungkook chuckled softly, rubbing the back of his neck. "Not as much trouble anymore, I promise."

I rolled my eyes and nudged him playfully. "Yeah, sure. He's a good boy now, right?"

Mom gave us both a knowing smile, clearly amused. "Well, that's good to hear. It's about time, isn't it?"

"Mom!" I groaned, shooting her a look as Jungkook's cheeks tinged with pink.

Before she could say anything else embarrassing, I grabbed Jungkook's arm. "We're going upstairs, okay?"

"Uh-huh," Mom replied, but just as we turned to head up, her voice rang out again. "I'm sure you have an IUD, right?"

My eyes went wide in horror. "Shut up, Mom!" I yelled, my face burning as I dragged Jungkook up the stairs with me.

Behind us, I could hear her laughing to herself. "Just saying!" she called after us.

When we finally reached my room, I closed the door behind us, leaning against it for a moment, trying to shake off the embarrassment. Jungkook, meanwhile, was grinning like a Cheshire cat, clearly entertained by the whole situation.

"Your mom's hilarious," he said, dropping down onto my bed with a sigh.

I gave him a mock glare. "Yeah, well, I have to deal with her all the time, so trust me, it's not as funny from my end."

Jungkook just chuckled, patting the space beside him on the bed. "Come here."

I rolled my eyes but joined him, stretching out beside him as we settled in comfortably. The familiar ease between us took over, and for a while, we just lay there in silence, listening to the faint sounds of the house around us.

Then I felt his eyes on me.

I turned my head to look at him, and there he was—those big, doe-like eyes staring at me with a softness that made my heart skip a beat. Jungkook had this way of looking at me, like I was the only person in the world. It was impossible to resist.

I groaned, playfully smacking his arm. "What do you want?"

He blinked, feigning innocence. "What? I can't just look at my girlfriend?"

I raised an eyebrow. "Uh-huh, sure. Spill it, Jungkook. What are you up to?"

He hesitated for a second, then smiled sheepishly. "Okay, so... there's this party tonight."

I groaned inwardly. "A party? Really?"

He pouted, leaning closer. "Come on, it'll be fun. Can you come with me?"

I sighed, giving him a look. "Can't you just go by yourself? You don't need me there."

"Nooo," he whined, scooting closer until his head was practically on my shoulder. "I wanna be with my girlfriend."

The way he said it made my heart flutter, but I wasn't going to give in that easily. I turned to face him, narrowing my eyes. "You don't want to let people know that the infamous campus fuckboy Jeon Jungkook is actually a baby when he's with me, do you?"

He huffed indignantly. "I'm not a fuckboy."

I raised an eyebrow, clearly not convinced. "Oh? Then what are you?"

He leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a soft, serious tone. "I'm your boyfriend."

His words sent a wave of warmth through me, making my cheeks flush. I hated how easily he could get to me like this, how one simple sentence from him could make my heart race. I looked away, pretending to be unaffected. "Fine, fine. I'll go with you," I muttered.

Jungkook grinned triumphantly. "Really?"

"Yeah," I said, still avoiding his gaze. "But only if Sora can come too."

"Sora?" he asked, confusion flickering across his face. "I have no idea who that is, but... okay, sure."

I smiled, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "Great."

Jungkook gave me a curious look but didn't push it. Instead, he wrapped his arm around me, pulling me closer until I was tucked against his side. "Thanks for agreeing to come. It'll be fun, I promise."

"Uh-huh," I mumbled, resting my head against his chest. "You better be right."

Later that evening...

We had spent the rest of the afternoon lounging around, talking about random things and just enjoying each other's company. As the evening approached, I reluctantly started getting ready for the party. Jungkook, of course, was no help—he just lay on my bed, watching me with amusement as I tried on different outfits.

"You know," he said, his voice teasing, "you could wear a garbage bag, and you'd still look hot."

I shot him a look. "That's not helpful, Jungkook."

He laughed, sitting up. "Okay, fine. How about this?" He pointed to the outfit I had on— a really cute red lacy dress, hugging my curves nicely.

I glanced at myself in the mirror. It wasn't fancy, but it was comfortable, and that was all I really cared about. "Yeah, this works."

Jungkook grinned, hopping off the bed and coming up behind me. He wrapped his arms around my waist, resting his chin on my shoulder as he looked at our reflection. "You look amazing," he murmured.

I smiled, leaning back into his embrace. "Thanks."

After a few more minutes of last-minute adjustments, we were finally ready to go. As we headed downstairs, I mentally prepared myself for whatever chaos this party was going to bring. With Jungkook, you never really knew what to expect.

When we reached the bottom of the stairs, Mom was waiting by the door, clearly still amused by our earlier interaction. "Going out, I see," she said, her tone playful.

"Yeah," I replied, grabbing my jacket. "We're heading to a party."

Mom raised an eyebrow. "Behave yourselves, okay?"

I groaned. "Mom, seriously. We'll be fine."

She just laughed, giving Jungkook a wink. "Take care of my daughter, Jungkook."

He smiled politely, nodding. "Of course, Mrs. kim. I always do."

With that, we finally made our way out the door and into the cool evening air. As we walked to Jungkook's car, he reached for my hand, lacing his fingers through mine. It was a small gesture, but it made my heart swell.

"So," I said, glancing at him. "What kind of party is this, anyway?"

Jungkook shrugged. "Just a casual one. A few friends, some drinks, music. Nothing crazy."

I raised an eyebrow, clearly skeptical. "Uh-huh. I'll believe that when I see it."

He laughed, squeezing my hand. "Trust me, you'll have a good time."

on the way to the party.

"Baby, if ever you don't wanna be here anymore, just tell me, hm?" he said, glancing over at me with a tender look in his eyes. His concern was so endearing that I couldn't help but smile softly at him.

"Okay," I nodded, feeling reassured by his protective tone. Jungkook was so different with me, softer, caring. It still caught me off guard sometimes, given his infamous campus reputation.

Soon, we arrived at the party. As we pulled up, it was clear that the night was already in full swing. The chaos hit us even before we got out of the car—music blaring, people dancing wildly, and the unmistakable scent of alcohol hung in the air. I could already tell that half of the partygoers were drunk.

Jungkook stepped out first, rushing to my side to open the door for me, always the gentleman, even at a place like this. I took his hand as he led me through the crowd, his grip firm and protective. Just as we made it through the packed entrance, I spotted Sora, one of my closest friends.

"GIRLYYYY!" I squealed, rushing over to hug her tightly. It had been a while since I last saw her, and seeing her at the party immediately made everything feel lighter. Her energy was contagious.

Sora hugged me back, spinning me around dramatically before pulling away, her eyes landing on Jungkook. She scrunched up her nose in mock disgust and leaned in closer to me, lowering her voice to a conspiratorial whisper, "Is that the infamous Jeon Jungkook who has fucked every girl on campus?"

I winced, knowing Jungkook heard that. "Yeah, he's my boyfriend," I whispered back, feeling the heat rise to my cheeks. There was something so ironic about the whole situation—everyone on campus thought they knew who Jungkook was, but the boy I knew was completely different.

Sora's eyes widened in disbelief, her mouth agape. "Girl, how the hell did HE pull YOU???" she exclaimed a bit too loudly.

I heard Jungkook clear his throat behind us. "Excuse me, I can hear you," he said, trying to sound serious, but the playful smirk on his lips gave him away. He wasn't mad—more amused, if anything. I turned around to see him crossing his arms over his chest, pretending to act offended.

Before I could respond, a group of guys approached us—Jungkook's friends, as I quickly recognized them. Jimin, Taehyung, and Mingyu were all grinning widely as they came up to us, clearly enjoying the chaos of the party.

"Hey bro—oh, who's this pretty lady you're with?" Mingyu asked, giving me a once-over with a playful grin. I knew instantly he was teasing, but Jungkook's arm tightened around my waist possessively.

"Don't even think about it, Gyu. She's my girlfriend," Jungkook declared, his tone light but firm. His friends laughed, but the look in their eyes showed they knew better than to challenge him.

Jimin nudged me gently. "Tell us if he hurts you, Y/N. We'll back you up," he said with an exaggerated serious expression, clearly joking, though I could tell there was a hint of genuine care behind his words.

Taehyung joined in, putting his arm around Jungkook. "Hey, hey, you're forgetting you guys are my friends too!" Jungkook laughed, shaking his head as his friends continued to tease him.

The party was in full swing.  People were scattered everywhere—some dancing wildly, some slouched on couches deep in conversation, and others already passed out from drinking. I was mingling with Jungkook and his friends, the warmth of his presence at my side keeping me grounded amidst the madness.

But Sora, my ever-lively best friend, had shoo'd me away. I could still see her from where I stood, sitting on the couch by herself, a drink in hand, the picture of contented solitude. I knew she didn't want to feel like a third wheel, and in her usual carefree manner, she seemed to enjoy her own company for the time being.

As Jungkook talked to Taehyung and Mingyu, I caught sight of Namjoon walking towards Sora. My heart did a small, familiar flip. There was a time when I'd had a crush on Namjoon, and while those feelings had long since faded, the sight of him still gave me a strange sense of nostalgia.

Namjoon, always composed, always so cool, sat down next to Sora, a gentle smile on his lips as he greeted her. "You alright, pretty?" he asked, his deep voice carrying over the music.

Sora looked up, a little surprised to see him, but she quickly gave him a smile in return. "Hi," she said, taking a sip from her drink.

Namjoon leaned back on the couch, his body language open and relaxed. "What's up?" he asked, his eyes flicking over her face with mild concern. He had a way of reading people, always tuned into the little details.

Sora sighed, twirling the straw in her drink lazily. "Just bored. Shoo'd Y/N and Jungkook alone 'cause I didn't wanna be a third wheel," she explained with a slight eye roll.

Namjoon's smile widened, his dimple appearing. "Wanna change that?" he asked, a teasing glint in his eyes. Before Sora could answer, someone came over and interrupted their conversation.

"Hey! We're about to play spin the bottle!" the guy announced excitedly, clearly already a little tipsy. He was gesturing to a group forming in the middle of the living room. "You guys in?"

Sora didn't even hesitate. Her eyes lit up with excitement as she grabbed Namjoon by the arm, dragging him towards the circle before he could protest. "Come on, let's go!"

Namjoon glanced over at me, his expression one of mild amusement as Sora pulled him into the game. I gave him a small wave and a smile before returning to my conversation with Jungkook, who was blissfully unaware of the little interaction happening just a few feet away.

But my mind kept drifting back to the game. Spin the bottle always had a way of bringing unexpected drama, and as much as I tried to focus on the conversation in front of me, I couldn't help but feel a little nervous. What if Sora ended up with Jungkook? I trusted her, of course, but it would definitely make things awkward, especially since Sora didn't know about my past crush on Namjoon. The situation felt like a ticking time bomb, and I silently hoped for the best.

As the game progressed, I glanced over at the group every now and then. People were spinning the bottle, laughing, and occasionally disappearing into various rooms for the infamous "7 minutes in heaven." Sora seemed to be enjoying herself, laughing with Namjoon, who looked more relaxed than I'd ever seen him at a party.

Then, it was Sora's turn.

My heart skipped a beat as she leaned forward to spin the bottle. The room seemed to quiet down, everyone watching as the bottle made its slow, torturous rotation on the floor. My eyes followed its every move, dread building in my chest as it spun closer and closer to Jungkook.

Please, not Jungkook, I silently begged.

The bottle slowed, inching its way past Jungkook and landing squarely on... Namjoon.

Relief flooded through me, I watched as Sora turned to look at Namjoon, her eyes wide with surprise but quickly morphing into a playful grin. Namjoon raised an eyebrow, glancing at me briefly before standing up. He shot me a small, reassuring smile, though I wasn't sure why he felt the need to comfort me.

"The third bedroom to the right!" one of the guys yelled, his voice cutting through the room's din. The crowd cheered as Sora stood up, grabbing Namjoon's hand and dragging him toward the stairs with a laugh.

my eyes dragged as i watched them disappearing up the stairs together. There was something surreal about it—seeing my best friend and the guy I used to like head off for "20 minutes in heaven." I wasn't sure how to feel, but I did my best to shrug it off. Sora didn't know about my old crush, and Namjoon was just a friend now. There was no reason to be upset.

I turned my attention back to Jungkook, who had noticed my distracted state. He leaned in, his breath warm against my ear as he whispered, "You okay?"

I nodded quickly, forcing a smile. "Yeah, just... thinking about sora"

He smirked, clearly amused. "Worried about Sora?"

I blinked, surprised by how easily he read me. "yeah, I just—"

"Relax, babe. Namjoon's a good guy. Sora's in good hands," he said, squeezing my hand gently. His words should have reassured me, but they only made my thoughts spiral further.

The clock seemed to tick slower in the dimly lit room. Namjoon sat on the edge of the bed, his heart racing for reasons he didn't quite understand. Across from him, Sora was sitting on the floor, leaning back against the bed frame, swirling her seventh drink around lazily in her hand. Her cheeks were flushed a deep red from all the alcohol she'd consumed, her lips slightly parted as she hiccuped softly, a tipsy smile on her face.

Namjoon hadn't anticipated this turn of events. He had agreed to the game, figuring it would just be a silly, harmless round of "20 minutes in heaven." Maybe they'd laugh, maybe they'd talk, and then head back downstairs. But as the minutes ticked by, it was clear that Sora wasn't just tipsy; she was completely wasted.

"It's fine if you're not okay with this, Sora," Namjoon said gently, his voice filled with concern. He wasn't sure if she fully understood the situation, or if she was even aware of how out of it she was. He knew Sora could handle her alcohol—she was no stranger to parties—but tonight seemed different. Something was off.

Sora tilted her head up, giving him a lopsided grin. Her eyes were glazed over, barely focusing on his face. "It's fine, Joon," she slurred, her voice heavy with the effects of the alcohol. "I want you."

Namjoon's breath hitched in his throat as Sora suddenly lunged forward, pressing her lips against his with a surprising amount of force. Her kiss was sloppy, tasting overwhelmingly of alcohol. He could feel her hands fumbling at his shoulders, trying to pull him closer, but there was nothing about the situation that felt right to him.

Gently, but firmly, Namjoon pushed her away, breaking the kiss. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, the bitter taste of alcohol still lingering on his lips. "Sora," he said softly, his voice filled with worry. "How many drinks have you had tonight?"

Sora blinked at him, her head swaying slightly as she tried to focus on his face. "Uhm... twelve?" she replied, giggling at her own inability to remember. She flashed him a tipsy smile, her eyes half-closed. "But who's counting, right?"

Namjoon frowned, feeling a surge of protectiveness for her. This wasn't the Sora he knew—the sharp, witty, confident woman who could hold her own in any situation. This was someone drowning in alcohol, trying to numb herself from something deeper. He sighed, running a hand through his hair.

"Sora, no way I'm going to take advantage of you," Namjoon said, his voice firm but kind. He placed a hand on her shoulder, keeping her steady as she swayed slightly. "I'm not that kind of guy."

She looked up at him, blinking slowly, as if trying to process what he was saying. But instead of responding, she giggled again, leaning her head against his chest. "You're sweet," she mumbled. "But I'm fine, Joon. I can handle it. I'll drink those 15 shots for you." Her words were slurred, but her tone was playful, as if this were all a game to her.

Namjoon shook his head, his frown deepening. "Sora, you're drunk. You don't have to do that."

But she didn't seem to hear him. She was already pushing herself off the bed, wobbling unsteadily as she stood. Namjoon quickly stood as well, placing a hand on her arm to keep her from falling over. Sora's laughter echoed through the room as she stumbled toward the door, determined to go back downstairs and take those shots.

"Sora, wait," Namjoon said, his grip on her arm tightening slightly. "Let's just stay here for a bit, okay? You need to sober up."

But Sora was already reaching for the door handle, her movements clumsy and uncoordinated. Namjoon sighed, realizing that reasoning with her wasn't going to work. He had no choice but to follow her downstairs, keeping a close eye on her to make sure she didn't hurt herself.

Sora immediately headed for the table where the shots were lined up, her eyes gleaming with excitement.

"Sora, seriously, you don't need to do this," Namjoon tried again, his voice strained with concern. But she wasn't listening. She grabbed the first shot and downed it without hesitation, slamming the glass back on the table with a triumphant grin.

"One down!" she yelled, already reaching for the next one.

Namjoon stood by her side, his arms crossed, feeling a sense of helplessness wash over him. He didn't want to be the killjoy, but he couldn't stand by and watch her drink herself into oblivion. He knew something deeper was going on, something she wasn't talking about.

As Sora reached for the second shot, Namjoon stepped in, his hand gently covering hers. "Sora, stop," he said, his voice more commanding this time. "You're going to make yourself sick."

She looked up at him, her eyes wide and confused. "Why do you care so much?" she asked, her voice soft and vulnerable.

Namjoon's expression softened as he met her gaze. "Because you're my....friend," he said hesitantly. wasn't so sure if he wanted the friend as label for them. "And I don't want to see you hurt yourself."

For a moment, Sora just stared at him, her drunken haze lifting slightly as his words sank in. Then, slowly, she let go of the shot glass and leaned into him, resting her head on his chest.

"I'm sorry," she whispered, her voice small. "I just... I just didn't want to feel alone tonight."

Namjoon wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as she trembled slightly in his arms. He didn't say anything, just let her rest against him, offering her the quiet comfort she so desperately needed.

After a few moments, Sora pulled back, wiping at her eyes with the back of her hand. "I guess I've had too much to drink," she admitted, her voice shaky.

Namjoon smiled gently, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear. "Let's get you some water, okay?" he said, guiding her away from the shots and toward the kitchen.

As they walked, Namjoon couldn't help but glance back at the crowd, where the game was still in full swing. He spotted me sitting with Jungkook, both of us laughing and enjoying ourselves, completely unaware of the emotional rollercoaster that had just unfolded upstairs.

In the kitchen, Namjoon filled a glass with water and handed it to Sora, who took it gratefully. She drank slowly, her hands still shaking slightly from the alcohol. Namjoon watched her closely, making sure she was okay.

"Do you want to talk about it?" he asked softly, leaning against the counter as he waited for her to finish drinking.

Sora looked up at him, her eyes filled with a mixture of embarrassment and sadness. "It's stupid," she mumbled, setting the glass down on the counter.

Namjoon shook his head. "It's not stupid if it's making you feel like this."

Sora sighed, running a hand through her hair as she leaned against the counter next to him. "I just... I had a crush on this guy," she admitted, her voice barely above a whisper. "But he rejected me. And I guess I just... I don't know, I wanted to forget about it tonight."

Namjoon frowned, his heart aching for her. He knew how hard rejection could be, and it was clear that Sora was hurting more than she let on. "I'm sorry," he said softly. "That sucks."

Sora laughed bitterly, shaking her head. "Yeah, well, it happens, right? Can't win them all."

Namjoon didn't say anything, just stood by her side, offering her silent support. After a few moments of silence, Sora turned to him, her expression softening.

"Thanks, Joon," she said quietly. "For being here. And for stopping me from doing something stupid."

Namjoon smiled, his dimple appearing as he reached out to squeeze her hand gently. "Anytime."

As the night went on, the party continued in full swing, but Namjoon and Sora stayed in the kitchen, away from the chaos. They talked, laughed, and slowly, Sora began to sober up. By the time the party was winding down, Sora was feeling more like herself again.

"I should probably get home," she said, standing up from the stool she had been sitting on. "Before I do something else I'll regret."

Namjoon chuckled, standing up as well. "I'll bring you home," he offered.

Sora smiled, grateful for his kindness. "You're a good guy, Joon," she said as they made their way to the front door.

Namjoon shrugged, a shy smile on his lips. "Just doing what any friend would do."

As they stepped outside into the cool night air, Sora took a deep breath, feeling more clear-headed than she had all night. "You know," she said, glancing over at Namjoon. "I think I might have a crush on you now."

Namjoon raised an eyebrow, shocked.

The night was quiet outside the car, a stark contrast to the chaotic party they'd just left. Y/N and Jungkook were laying down in the backseat, the engine off, but the warmth of the night kept them comfortable. The windows were slightly fogged up from their relaxed breathing. Y/N shifted slightly, her head resting against Jungkook’s chest as she sighed, her fingers lazily playing with his.

"I feel bad for Sora," Y/N murmured softly, breaking the silence.

Jungkook, who had his arm wrapped around her waist, tilted his head slightly to look down at her. "Why’s that, baby?"

Y/N’s eyes fluttered as she blinked up at the ceiling of the car, her voice tinged with sadness. "Her crush rejected her. I saw how much she was drinking, and she just seemed... I don’t know, lost. I hate seeing people like that."

Jungkook’s fingers traced absentminded patterns on her side, his touch light and soothing. "I get it," he said softly. "But Namjoon’s got her now. He’ll take care of her. She’ll be alright."

Y/N nodded, her eyes closing for a brief moment as she breathed in the comforting scent of Jungkook's cologne. "Yeah... Namjoon’s a good guy," she said, her tone thoughtful. But there was something else bubbling underneath her words, something unspoken that she couldn’t quite put into coherent sentences.

A silence settled between them again, but it wasn’t uncomfortable. They both were wrapped in their thoughts, the events of the night playing back in their minds. Y/N felt her pulse slow, the alcohol leaving her system bit by bit, but her body was still buzzing with energy—though not from the party anymore.

"Jungkook?" she whispered, breaking the silence once more.

"Yeah, baby?"

She turned her head slightly, her lips brushing against his neck as she spoke. "Would it be kinda crazy if I said I want you to fuck me so bad in the car right now?"

Her words hung in the air for a split second before they sunk in. The shift in Jungkook’s demeanor was immediate. His body tensed beneath her as his breath hitched in his throat, the playful and relaxed atmosphere turning into something electric in an instant. Without another word, Jungkook’s lips crashed into hers, the intensity of his kiss matching the sudden fire that had sparked between them.

He rolled on top of her, his body pressing her down against the seat, his hands sliding down to her waist. His touch was firm but teasing as his fingers ghosted over the curves of her body, exploring the soft fabric of her dress that hugged her figure perfectly.

"You’re so hot in this dress, baby," he murmured against her lips, his voice husky and breathless from the kiss.

Y/N smiled into the kiss, her hands finding their way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. "I should wear it more often, huh?" she teased, her voice dripping with seduction.

Jungkook growled softly, nipping at her bottom lip as he pulled back just enough to look down at her. His eyes were dark, filled with desire as he took her in—the way her hair spilled out over the seat, the way her lips were slightly swollen from their kiss, and the way her dress clung to her body in all the right places.

"Nope," he said, his voice low and possessive. "Save it for me."

Y/N’s heart raced at his words, a shiver running down her spine. There was something about the way Jungkook looked at her, the way his eyes drank her in like she was the only thing in the world that mattered, that made her feel completely and utterly desired.

His hands roamed her body, fingers tracing the edges of her dress as he pushed the fabric up, revealing the soft skin of her thighs. Y/N gasped, her hands gripping his shoulders as his touch sent sparks of electricity shooting through her.

"Jungkook..." she whispered, her voice breathy.

"Shh, baby," he murmured, his lips brushing against her neck as he trailed kisses down her collarbone. "Let me take care of you."

His words were a promise, a vow to make this moment about her, to worship every inch of her. His hands continued their journey up her body, pushing her dress higher until it was bunched up around her waist. Y/N bit her lip, her breath coming in shallow gasps as his hands slid beneath the fabric of her panties, teasing her with the lightest of touches.

Jungkook’s lips found hers again, kissing her deeply as his fingers brushed against her most sensitive spot, drawing a moan from her throat. He smirked against her lips, his fingers moving with more purpose now, knowing exactly how to make her body react.

"You’re so wet already," he whispered, his voice filled with pride. "All for me, huh?"

Y/N’s response was a soft whimper, her hips bucking against his hand, craving more of his touch. "Only for you," she breathed, her hands gripping his hair as she pulled him closer, wanting to feel every inch of him against her.

Jungkook groaned softly, his free hand gripping her thigh as he positioned himself between her legs, the fabric of their clothes the only thing keeping them apart. The tension between them was unbearable, the need for each other growing with every passing second.

Without another word, Jungkook pulled away from her, his hands fumbling with the buttons of his jeans as he kicked them off, his movements quick and desperate. Y/N followed suit, slipping her panties off and tossing them aside, her eyes locked on Jungkook’s as he hovered over her once more.

"You sure about this, baby?" Jungkook asked, his voice low and filled with lust, but still carrying a note of concern. He always made sure she was comfortable, that she wanted this as much as he did.

Y/N nodded, her hands reaching out to pull him closer. "I’ve never been more sure of anything," she whispered, her voice filled with need.

That was all the confirmation Jungkook needed.

He positioned himself at her entrance, his eyes locked on hers as he slowly pushed inside her, both of them gasping at the sensation. Y/N’s nails dug into his shoulders as he filled her completely, her body arching off the seat as pleasure surged through her.

"Fuck, baby," Jungkook groaned, his head dropping to her shoulder as he began to move, his pace slow but deliberate. "You feel so good."

Y/N could barely form coherent thoughts as he thrust into her, each movement sending waves of pleasure crashing over her. Her hands roamed his back, nails leaving faint marks on his skin as she clung to him, her body trembling with the intensity of it all.

"Jungkook," she moaned, her voice breathy and desperate. "Faster, please."

Jungkook’s eyes darkened at her request, and without hesitation, he quickened his pace, his hips snapping against hers with more urgency. The car rocked slightly with each thrust, the confined space making their movements even more intimate, every touch, every kiss, amplified by their closeness.

Y/N’s moans filled the car, her body completely consumed by the pleasure Jungkook was giving her. She could feel herself getting closer, the tension building in her core with each thrust. Her hands gripped his shoulders, her breath coming in ragged gasps as she teetered on the edge of release.

"Come for me, baby," Jungkook whispered in her ear, his voice rough and filled with desire. "I wanna feel you."

That was all it took.

Y/N’s body tensed as her orgasm crashed over her, her back arching off the seat as she cried out his name, her body trembling beneath him. Jungkook groaned at the sight of her coming undone, the feeling of her tightening around him pushing him over the edge.

With a few more thrusts, Jungkook followed her, his body tensing as he spilled inside her, his moans muffled against her neck as he rode out his own release.

For a moment, neither of them moved, their bodies still pressed together as they caught their breath. The only sound in the car was their ragged breathing, the tension slowly ebbing away, replaced by a soft, comfortable silence.

Jungkook pulled back slightly, his eyes soft as he looked down at her. "You okay, baby?" he asked, his voice gentle.

Y/N smiled up at him, her fingers brushing his cheek. "More than okay," she whispered, her heart still racing.

A/N : okay okay did you guys miss me?? i missed yall tooo. this was kinda short, i know. but i'll make sure to make the few of the last chapters worth it for you guys. thank you so much for taking ur time to read. tho i didn't reach my goal for 15k words i'm sure i'll get it soon

[cffeelia]

divine, divine | k. namjoon

“you are my pain divine, divine.”

summary: your long time boyfriend is the leader of the biggest band in the world. you’d imagine he would have some more time for you now that the group was temporarily disbanded, but he’s still busy with an album, leaving you to feel unwanted and lonely. it’s only a matter of time before he leaves for the military and all you want is to see him do anything but fall asleep in his studio.

kind of angsty but pinky promise it ends on a good note 🙏🙏

2022

bts has become apart of your life as much as it’s apart of your boyfriend’s, seeing as he’s the leader of the group. for the past 4 years, youve grown closer to the boys, growing a special relationship with each of them. from sitting backstage on tour, to placing blankets over them as they slept in their studio. you’ve seen all of their highs and lows, seeing as their moods basically determined your boyfriends.

namjoon lives vicariously through his band mates, if they were upset, so was he. 2020 was a rough patch for everyone, but namjoon took it so harshly. that was the first time you’d ever seen him sob, hands running through his bleached hair as he fell to his knees in your shared apartment.

“what am i even good for if it’s not music? and i can’t even get anything out in this time where everyone needs me. ____, why am i even here?”

all you could do was tuck his head into your chest, your mouth lightly parted as tears fell silently while he cried into your shirt. he’s never crashed this hard before, you needed to say something, anything.

you managed to calm him down after about ten minutes, the night ended with him wrapped in your arms, eyes puffed from his sobs.

thankfully, that year never repeated. you learned a lot about namjoon, his moods, how to comfort him. he wasn’t always a touchy guy, opting for words of affirmation both to you and to receive, but this year taught him how much he loved to be held by you. he would never take that for granted.

things went back to normal after about two years, and bangtan was excited to perform again for their permission to dance tour, though it wasn’t to the scale of the one they originally planned. however, the tour was successful, and definitely memorable for not just you, but your boyfriend and his band mates as well. you can still recall the night they closed off the tour, ‘mikrokosmos’ always would hold a special place in your heart, this group really loved their fans, it’s so admirable to see an artist hold that much love for people simply because they enjoy their music.

nothing good lasted forever, though.

june 14, 2022, during 2022 festa, bangtan officially announced their hiatus. you knew this news was coming since january of that year, but this wasn’t the bad part. if anything, you were excited to spend more 1-on-1 time with the love of your life, and for his close friends to get a break from the spotlight, but it wasn’t what you thought it was.

immediately after this announcement, namjoon was working like crazy on more music. their repackaged album was already out, and the busan concert went well, so why was he still calling you from his studio to tell you he wouldn’t make it for dinner again? that’s how you ended up in your car, trying not to violate traffic laws as you angrily drove to the hybe building.

“mr namjoon, someones here for you.”

the studio door opened to reveal a staff member, namjoon got up groggily from his seat, a little pissed of that his flow was interrupted.

taking the elevator to the first floor, he imagined it was probably some producer offering their beats again. why wasn’t security listening when he said he knew what he was doing for this album?

he wasn’t expecting you, hair braided out of your bare face. you wore his white tshirt and loose fitting jeans, clearly you rushed out of the house.

“hey baby. what’s up?” he slowly made his way to you.

“don’t ‘hey baby’ me, are you seriously doing this again?” you took his hand, dragging him back to his studio.

“what do you mean?” he struggled to keep up as you paced into the elevator, jamming the floor seven button

“____, hey, what’s going on? are you ok?” he cupped your face, dark circles hung along your eyes, your eyelashes poking straight out instead of their usual curled position. were you crying?

“no namjoon, im not! i thought you were done working on music, i want you to come home!” dramatically flinging your hands around, you looked longingly up to your boyfriends eyes, his hand still caressing your cheek.

“i’m sorry, i didn’t tell you. i’m preparing another album before i have to go to the military this december.” he smiled softly to you, but you didn’t return it. your face lost all emotion, turning back to the buttons on the elevator.

“i’m going home then, goodnight.”

“what? hun, what’s wrong? i’ll come home this wholeeee week. i promise, i just got a late start today babe.”

he grabbed your hand to stop your from pressing the lobby button.

“baby, look at me.” turning your head towards his smiling face, you knew you were in for it now. you planned to tell him off, and get him to come home. now you felt bad for interrupting his music process, and couldn’t keep up your angry girlfriend act any longer.

“just let me wrap up, ok? you can come with, there’s still some takeout in my office. give me thirty minutes i promise.” your eyes fell to his pinky, sticking out for you to interlock yours with and seal his promise.

you pecked his lips, looking away embarassed that he sweet talked the anger out of you.

“i love you, you’re real cute.” he whispered as he lead you into his studio.

2023

so much for the stupid fucking pinky promise, once again you were left alone in your bed. namjoon was surprisingly here tonight, but he had barely said a word, his exhaustion took him over, and he almost fell asleep in the shower if it weren’t for you coming in to brush your teeth.

now he was sleeping at your side, head skimming your shoulder as you sat, propped up on your pillows, scrolling mindlessly on your phone. it was supposed to distract you, but your for you page wanted you to remember everything that you were missing out on. you know this is a hard time for bangtan, but what about you? namjoon was overworking himself as if he didn’t have ten whole months before he would have to enlist.

you wanted to feel bad for him, it’s so selfish to tell him to abandon his work to come spend time with you. but seriously, what the fuck? you didn’t even get to kiss him on new years, he spent it with jhope, in their stupid fucking studio.

your phone flashed all colors of purple and white, the tiktok video was from an army recounting their concert memories from 2019 during the lysy tour. you remember that night, hearing thousands of english speaking armys defy the boundaries of language to sing in korean for bts. it made you cry too, but this video inflicted both frustration and sadness in you now.

you turned your phone off, tossing it to the side and climbing into your sheets, head facing namjoons as he slept. you let a tear roll silently down your cheek, you wish he could care as much as he used to. he unconsciously grabbed your arm, barely awake as he interlocked arms with you, and shuffled higher on the pillows. he basically was inviting you into his arms. hesitantly, you scooted until you were in his chest, you arms naturally reaching up to his neck.

that one tear became two, then three, then you lost count. hopefully he wouldn’t notice how soaked his shirt was, you sniffled lightly, careful not to wake him. you had almost drifted to sleep, exhausted from your heavy breathing while you let your emotions fall from your heavy lids. namjoon pulled you into his chest tighter, feeling the wet stain of your tears startled him awake.

he gasped lightly and groggily sprung up from bed

“what? what’s wrong?” you asked, flipping a lamp on, your voice hoarse as you tried to wipe your tears discreetly.

“what, what, is this you?” he pointed to the dark circle staining his loose shirt.

this only earned a sniffle from you, everything fell out all at once, snapping joon out of his sleepy trance, he listened as close as he could, extremely sleep deprived and barely even awake.

“i miss you so much joonie, it’s- it’s- like, not the same anymore!” you sniffled “all i want is to just enjoy waking up with you and going out to cute cafes again without music being behind it! please,” your hands slapped into your eyes, “please joonie can you just, just come back to me once in a while? why am i competing with your music? shouldn’t you prioritize me? i feel so unimportant.” your voice died down, namjoon wasted no time in tucking you back into bed, he let you roll onto his chest.

“hun, you should’ve spoke up. i broke our promise, i know i did, i should’ve apologized princess.” he kissed your temple. “i’m so sorry, ____, i’ll spend more time with you baby. it’s been so hard huh?” he tilted his head back to see your relaxed face, still leaking tears onto his shirt.

“yes, i just wanted you to come home, i feel like i’m loosing it, i haven’t even showered for the past three days, i didn’t wash my face joonie everything’s just a fucking task right now.” you let out another sniffle before looking back into his eyes. “when will you just be how you used to again?”

he felt himself recharge as he looks into your beautiful eyes, though half lidded. he felt like he could sleep in your eyes, they were truly heaven. so much so he forgot to reply, “i know baby. it’s ok, you’re ok, i’ll find a way to stay home more often, that sound good?”

you nodded, puckering your lips lightly, he kissed you once, then again, and again, then your cheek, ear, neck, then back to your lips.

it pained him so much to see you hurt over him, especially when he knows you’ve been innocently waiting like the perfect girl you are for him to say something to you.

after a while, the two of you fell asleep, arms crossed around each other as he caught up on some much needed rest. neither of you woke up until 2pm, joon replaced himself with a pillow, letting you sleep some more while he walked to the living room. his guitar sat in the corner of the room, where it had been collecting dust for two years now.

he rushed back into the room to quietly grab his laptop, also stealing a soft kiss on your lips, before he sat down on your shared couch. he knew what he wanted this song to sound like, he just needed lyrics and now, he finally found them.

copying your words, he began to play quietly. it took a while, but he got the premise of the song eventually, deciding to put the guitar down to cook the two of you some breakfast. he turned the stove on, getting to work making pancakes.

the smell woke you up, even though the food had been made, your boyfriend knew it could be reheated. if you weren’t ready to wake up, he wouldn’t come get you. so, he settled back down with his guitar, playing his untitled song.

it was the sound that lulled you out of bed. despite what you’d said last night, you loved to hear namjoon singing. you stumbled into the living room, sitting down beside namjoon as he continued his song, eyes skimming over you. the smile in his voice was audible. you layed your head on his shoulder, letting the vibrations of his voice relax you.

this was exactly what you missed, just quality time with the light of your life. you had never felt better than at that exact moment, it was the peak of your relationship.

just like his lyrics, it was divine, divine.

i have ideas for a part two if anyone’s interested 😽😽 lmk!!

[littlemisskookie]

Crocodile Tears: Chapter 3

Crocodile Tears: Index  Ship: Stoner!Reader | Stoner!BTS  Description: You accidentally eat brownies with aphrodisiacs in them. Even worse one of your asshole friends catch you reading smut to cope, and decides to airdrop your collection of your dirtiest fantasies to the rest of the house. Just your luck. Warnings: Dub-Con, Degradation, Humiliation, Free Use Kink, Dom!Yoongi, Dom!Namjoon, Sub!Reader, Objectification Roleplay, Choking, Slapping, High Sex, Intercourse, Kinkshaming?, Overstimulation, Creampie, Breeding Kink, Multiple Orgasms, Oral, Fingering, Exhibition, Stranger visits!!! Who will it be? Edging, Bondage, Blindfolding, Threesome, Cum-play? I mean shit she’s slept with like four dudes at least ya gotta expect it, Really just PWP somehow? They’re all very mean, like, very sadistic, lots of pet names used a lot so if you don’t like that skip, Weed Word Count: 5,433 A/N: I’m very sorry it took this long to update this. But finally I can release what was once an unfinished draft!

Lucky for your shaking legs and exhausted body, Taehyung carried you back to the house from the woods. You didn't even have to ask him, simply accepting the kisses he peppered across your face adoringly. He pulled you up and into his arms, pulling the hoodie back onto you and carrying you back to shelter. You giggled, swinging your legs a little as you wrapped your arms around his neck, giving soft kisses to his neck as a tired thank you. Whether it was for carrying you, fucking you- no, fuck it, both- he seemed to understand. He turned his head to capture your lips once you were back on the porch. He gently put you down on the couch, brushing your hair now that you guys were in better light. "How're you feeling, pretty girl?"

"Wonderful," you replied honestly, a warm buzz going through your body at his words. Something about pretty men calling you pretty as well felt so satisfying. Almost as satisfying as having sex with them. 

He kissed you softly, his demeanor so sweet and endearing in comparison to how brutally he had fucked you just moments ago. You couldn't help but lean in further, wanting to deepen the kiss, to feel more of Taehyung. As though hearing your thoughts, Taehyung smiled into the kiss, slightly leaning back and forcing you to follow in desperation. "Careful," he murmured against your lips in warning. "You might get addicted."

To him or to sex, you weren't sure. Again, perhaps both. "I might be already," you whispered back, moaning softly as you feel his tongue pressing against yours sensually. "Could get used to this."

"You can come to me for this anytime, sweet girl," Taehyung grinned assuringly. "I don't think just a taste was enough."

You sputtered at that, eyes wide. "You consider that just a taste?"

Taehyung's devious smirk only deepened, confirming his words. From the corner of your eye you spot your discarded underwear being taken by Taehyung. You're suddenly embarrassingly aware of how naked you feel underneath just the oversized hoodie. You reached out towards Taehyung, but he calmly grabs your wrist to stop you. "Nah," he said smugly, grinning at your pathetic expression. "Want you to squirm all day with my cum inside of you- let the next guy find it. Besides, it means you've got to come see me again to get it back." 

You guffawed at him in disbelief, shaking your head and reaching for the bong from earlier. Unfortunately, most of the bowl was already spent, and you were only able to get in perhaps three hits with Taehyung before it was dead. 

"You want more?" Taehyung questioned.

"More what?" You question suspiciously. You were beginning to question if Taehyung had also eaten one of the sex brownies to keep up with your increased libido.

He laughed at that. "Weed. Go up to Namjoon's, I think he's got a bunch of his good shit in his room. He won't mind if it's you."

You felt a bit more confident about that. At worst you were going to run into Namjoon, and knowing him, he hasn't touched his phone all day. Namjoon was the type to go on about how phones were rotting people's attention spans and ruining connection- which is true, you feel as though you're an overgrown iPad kid at times- and so tries to spend as little time on it as possible. Most of the time he was on Do Not Disturb and would only bother to check a message if the person decides to notify him already. He was also notorious for being bad at responding. There was no way he was one of the people who had been dropped your secret blog. Though, with how the boys are reacting, you're not sure you'd mind. 

Knowing him, he was probably lounging on one of his sofa chairs in his room and smoking. Namjoon was a big reason you guys had so much weed to spare today, as one of his hobbies was growing plants, of all kinds. His most impressive had ended up being over six feet wide alone, his green thumb proving to be one your entire group could deeply appreciate. Namjoon doubled as a dealer for many of you, though you of course got the biggest discount. No one gave you shit for it- except Jimin.

Lucky for you, you didn't run into anyone on your way up to Namjoon's room, and true to theory he was sitting in his chair, reading a book and smoking out of a pipe. It was one of those old-timey fashioned ones, a gift you specifically had given him as a joke. Truth be told, it suited him.

He looked up at you with an unsuspecting and innocent smile, giving you a breath of relief. He didn't know.

"Y/N, what's up?" Namjoon questioned unassumingly, his voice deep and raspy from smoking. Super sexy. 

"Not much." Just praying you can't smell the cum I'm trying not to let dribble down my thighs. You motion to the pipe in his hand, a grin plastered on your face.. "Can I hit?"

"Of course," he responded, passing it over. Hopefully he didn't mean it for just the weed.

You gratefully took the pipe, lighting it and inhaling the smoke. God, Namjoon looked so good, with his meaty thighs spread before you like a platter. Before you knew it, dirty thoughts raced through your head as your gaze locked with the little amount of his thighs the shorts revealed. You were akin to a Victorian man seeing a woman's ankle for the first time, despite the fact that you had been fucked two ways to Sunday by two men already.

But... what will one more hurt? Who could resist sexy, charming, intellectual Kim Namjoon? He was so respectful and sweet, how could you not just suck his dick?

(How long did these fucking brownies last???)

You tried to recall your experiences with drugs before. Before your tolerance for weed had become as exceptional as it is now, you could still feel high through a "high hangover", as you and your friends called it, until the day after. When you did mushrooms it lasted for about six hours, and you couldn't sleep during the entirety of it. You wondered if the brownies would work the same way. Maybe it was the brownies dosage or your own insatiable need that left you restless for more.

"Whatcha reading?" you inquired, sitting down in the sofa chair next to his. You guys were only perhaps a foot apart, now, and when you crossed your legs and bounced your foot you could tap against him. The energy Taehyung had fucked out of you seemed to be returning.

"One of my philosophy books," he answered, taking the pipe from you to take another hit. "It's not the type you'd like."

"Mm, that's true, I'm more of a fantasy type of girl," you say. Your favorite books to read were romances in faraway lands filled with mythical beings- who you could fuck, of course. You let your foot run lightly over Namjoon's shin, hoping he'll catch on to your flirtation through the double entendre. Surely a smarty pants like him would get it. 

"Are you?" Namjoon asked.  "What are you into specifically?"

Just as you opened your mouth to reply, the door swung open to reveal none other than Min Yoongi. 

Unlike Namjoon, the look on his face when his gaze met yours did not read as friendly and oblivious. No, instead his eyes darkened and a small smirk formed on his face as he made a beeline to the two of you. You tensed, adrenaline rushing through you as though you had been caught in the act. Your heart raced and your mind wandered in absolute panic. In a sense you were caught in the act- you probably would've jumped Namjoon's bones if he gave you an opportunity. Yoongi's smile was so similar to the one Jungkook and Taehyung had worn right before devouring you. Excited, cruel, the smile of one who already won but wanted to rub it into someone's face. Sadistic. 

He knows.

"There you are, Y/N," Yoongi said with uncharacteristic cheer as he approached you. You gulped as you looked up at him, too nervous to get up from your seat. "What've you been up to?"

"O-Oh, I..." You had been so confident just second before, but now you were a stammering mess. You had lost the power play, and now you were already puddy in Yoongi's hands, and he knew it too. "I was outside."

"Is that so? That explains it. I've been looking all over for you." He slyly turned towards Namjoon. "Hey, Joon, have you seen it yet?"

You felt all the blood rush to your cheeks in embarrassment. You sat up straight to stop him, but Yoongi was too quick, lightly shoving you back at the shoulder to your seat. "No you're not, you're going to sit down and stay put."

There was no room for argument with his tone, and you almost helplessly watched as Yoongi handed Namjoon the incriminating evidence of your true nature. You looked away, not wanting to meet their accusatory stares, the humiliation causing you to squirm in your seat. You were cruelly reminded of the cum that Taehyung made you keep inside, and you realized his wishes about the next man finding his "present" may in fact come true.

"Is this yours?" Namjoon asked, and you feel shame overcome you as he directs his attention to you. There was that deep, sexy, post-smoking rasp that was now being used against you. You felt his gaze boring into the side of your head, urging you to meet his intense gaze. "Y/N?"

"Yes," you meekly answered. "It's mine."

Yoongi laughed, the snicker only further adding to your humiliation. "She airdropped this earlier. I've been scrolling through it- she's got more porn stored on her phone than a teenage boy. This must span years."

"It was-" You shot your gaze up at his, eyes wide. His eyes locked with yours, and he only smiled wider at your expression, further urging on Namjoon to explore your little blog of fantasies.

"Just look at all this degrading shit she's into, Joon. Can you believe she's into this freaky shit?" Yoongi interrupted, scrolling through the array of fanfictions you had stored on the page.

"Yoongi!" you whined almost patronizingly, immediately being cut off by Yoongi's sharp glare.

"No, no, don't you go acting so innocent. I've seen the depraved shit you've got on there. You're really into some dark shit, huh? You just want to be used like a toy, is that it?" He hooked his finger under your chin and forced you to lock your gaze with his. "Want us to do it for you?"

Your mouth suddenly went dry, leaving your mouth gaping open in surprise. Namjoon was looking at you too. He undoubtedly noticed the word us being included.

"Yes," you answered without doubt.

Yoongi and Namjoon exchanged glances, and you saw the flicker of arousal in Namjoon's eyes at your agreement. Yoongi's finger under your chin was replaced with a firm grip on your throat, and soon your back was met with the plush decorative pillows of Namjoon's neatly made bed. 

"Oh, what's this?"

You yelped as your legs were spread apart, the hem of the hoodie being lifted to expose your pussy to the two men who were now before you. Namjoon pried your legs apart with firm hands, keeping them flat on the mattress to ensure you couldn't hide from them. Yoongi reached out to gingerly touch your glistening folds, thumb passing over your clit with a jolt of your hips and down to your hole, smearing the white cum Taehyung had left behind. "Seems like we weren't the first ones to have found out. Tell me, who did you let use you?"

You bit your lip in hesitation, embarrassed to admit you've already fucked Tae and Jungkook. To Yoongi this just won't do it seemed, as he laid a harsh smack down on your pussy. You whimpered, your hips jumping up, only for Namjoon to pin them back down and force your legs open again. "Best to answer him, sweetheart," Namjoon said, his gaze never leaving your cunt. It was as though he were mesmerized.

"Jungkook and Taehyung," you admitted, getting another smack from Yoongi. Perhaps this time it was in reward.

"Together?" Yoongi questioned.

You shook your head. "Separately."

Yoongi's fingers ran through your folds, gently rubbing you as he watched you get wetter under his touch. He whistled lowly. "And you still can't get enough. You've been a good toy then, haven't you? Slutting yourself out to all of us. Wanna be a good toy for me and Joonie?"

You nodded desperately, quivering in sensitivity as Yoongi smeared Taehyung's cum all over your lower lips, circling on your clit with just the right amount of pressure. "Yes! I'll be good, I swear."

"Take off your hoodie, baby," Namjoon said, assisting you and pulling it off. It was the only piece of clothing you had on, so now you were left naked before them, hickeys exposed to their wandering eyes. "Mm, you must really like it rough, huh? You liked being used tonight?"

"So much," you admitted, sighing with glee as Namjoon leans in to softly kiss you, swallowing your moans as Yoongi presses his digits hard against you, watching you squirm at the overstimulation.

"How much are you planning to get fucked tonight, Y/N?" Yoongi questioned, enjoying the way you would flush with embarrassment. "Surely even a slut like you has her limits."

You broke away from Namjoon's lips, panting softly as you keen your core closer to Yoongi's fingers. "No, not enough. I need more."

"Yeah? Need what, toy?"

"Your fingers, your tongue, your cock, both of you! Need you to fuck me with them," you babbled, wanting Yoongi's fingers to penetrate you so badly. He was so close and yet kept choosing to tease you, sometimes circling around your hole or right over to collect the slick.

"Such a greedy toy, wanting me to touch this nasty pussy." Yoongi's voice feigned disgust, but much to your delight he slipped a finger in. "Fuck, look how much is coming out already. Taehyung really made you his little cumdump, didn't he? Want me and Joonie to fuck it out of you?"

You whimpered in confirmation, but that didn't seem to be enough for Yoongi. He added another finger, curling his fingers and moving his digits up to harshly slam against your g-spot repeatedly. Heat rose to your cheeks as he quickly got you worked up. "Ask him nicely. He's doing you a favor."

Your glassy eyes turned towards Namjoon, your lower lip quivering as you felt Yoongi bring you closer to the edge. "J-Joonie, will you p-please fuck me?"

He smiled warmly at that, giving a small kiss to your temple. "Of course, baby."

The warm fuzzy feeling in your chest is only allowed to remain for a moment before Yoongi grabbed your jaw and forced you to face him. "Now," he said, voice low and sinister. "Beg me."

You swallowed in anticipation, your voice shaky. "Please, please, please fuck me, Yoongi?"

He spit on your pussy with something that seemed like contempt. "Not good enough."

Your thighs quaked in response to his movements, your eyes rolling back as you tried to ignore the building pressure in your abdomen. "I'll be such a good toy, I promise! Please use me- oh fuck!"

In the midst of your tangent Namjoon's sneaky hand trailed down your body to circle around your clit, smearing the combination of Yoongi's saliva and your wetness. That along with his teeth nipping along the shell of your ear, and you were a goner, your walls spasming around Yoongi's punishing digits. You moaned unabashedly, your back arching until you cringed from over sensitivity. You weakly pushed their hands away from your core, desperately trying to catch your breath.

Yoongi stared at you with an accomplished expression, licking his fingers to savor the reward. "I don't recall either of us giving you permission to cum. So much for being a good toy."

He swatted at your swollen folds, causing your hips to jerk up in response. "I'm sorry!" you apologized eagerly, still overly sensitive. In reward he ran his fingers over your folds, gently caressing you. 

You reached down to touch him, to which he moved your hand away. "Didn't give you permission to touch me, either."

"Didn't think you were going to be such a bad girl," Namjoon crooned in your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. "Seems like we've got a bit of a brat on our hands."

"Really pathetic that you came so easily, y'know," Yoongi taunted, now using his thumb to draw circles into your clit. "Makes me wonder how fast you'll cum on my tongue next."

He reached under your thighs to flip you on your back, with your hips raised up and knees pressed up to your chest, his hands firmly hooked under your knees. You're not given much time to interject, as soon enough Yoongi's entire mouth is enveloping your pussy. He gave tender kisses to your clit and folds, peppering a few to your inner thigh too. His tongue licked against you, going harder as he felt your thighs tense under his grip. You wanted so badly to reach down to touch him, and at the feeling of his tongue eagerly lapping at your cunt, you couldn't help it.

You regretted it the very moment you felt your hand tangle through the strands of his hair. Immediately the pleasurable feeling of his mouth on you ceased, and he's harshly slapping his hand against your pussy. "Are you fucking stupid, what did I just tell you?" He delivered a slap to your face, and Namjoon immediately reaches down to force you to turn back to Yoongi, unable to escape his angry stare. "Hold her wrists, Namjoon."

Namjoon obliged, gathering your wrists into his hand above your head, pinning them firmly against him. Yoongi immediately proceeded to return to eating you out, humming against your pussy and devouring you entirely. Your fingers curled, and you tugged against Namjoon's restraint on you. He didn't budge, though, only smirking as he saw you weakly attempt to pull your two hands out of his singular one.

Your legs clamped around Yoongi's head as you felt your second orgasm with them come embarrassingly fast. Namjoon was quick to pin one of your legs to the mattress to prevent your escape from Yoongi's tongue. "You're just determined to be a bad girl, huh?" Namjoon scoffed, shaking your head. "And we're over here being so nice to you."

Yoongi raised his head, the shine of your wetness smeared across the lower half of his face. "Seems like the toy still needs to be broken in. You got any ties in the closet, Joon?"

"Yeah, plenty. I have one that would make a good blindfold, too."

"Perfect."

Before you knew it, you were being manhandled to be tied spread eagle, one tie holding each of your limbs to one of Namjoon's four bedposts. You were robbed of your sight despite your promises of obedience, but Namjoon and Yoongi seemed to have had enough of your misbehavior. Suddenly you were impossibly more sensitive, two sets of hands roaming across your vulnerable and exposed body. You didn't know who was pinching your nipple or biting your inner thigh, and all you could do was moan and squirm. Nothing you said was going to deter them now, and based on your decision not to safe word with what Namjoon whispered to you earlier as you were being tied, they could infer you were enjoying it just as much as they were. 

Someone's fingers were petting against your wet folds, smearing the wetness around your lower lips as though to get you messy as possible. Another hand had pressed down on your tongue for you to suck on, cutting off your moans for you to focus on the sounds and sensations.

Your eyes picked up on the distinct sound of footsteps nearing, and unable to warn the guys, you heard the man enter the room.

A low whistle filled the room.

"Want a closer look?" You heard Yoongi offer.

The footsteps neared closer to the bed. You shook, embarrassed that you were completely exposed to who knows who. There were only five options, and each possibility was just as anxiety-inducing as the next.

"Go ahead, she loves it," Namjoon said.

You gasped as you felt the feeling of your pussy being spread open on display by two thumbs, exposing you to the rest of the room.

"She really is wet," the newcomer said in a low chuckle. You try to tune in and listen to his voice, but with your foggy brain and almost hypnotized trance, it was hard for you to place the voice. "Has she been good?"

"Not at all." You felt a harsh smack against your mound, causing you to jolt and whine. Yoongi continued berating you. "Don't listen to her when she promises she'll be good- her mouth would be put to better use just sucking cock."

"Why am I not surprised," the newcomer sighed, as though disappointed. You couldn't help but have your cunt twitch under what felt like his patronizing stare. 

"Had to tie her down just to get her to behave," Namjoon included. His voice came across as a patronizing teacher, as though he were being forced to discipline you. "After two orgasms and she's still bratty."

"Someone's gotta fix that," the stranger agreed, finally letting go of your spread pussy lips, leaving you untouched for the first time since Yoongi pounced earlier.

"Yeah. Wanna help?"

"I can help for a minute, sure."

You never dreamed you would've been able to experience six hands roaming over your body, but it was now your reality. You were overwhelmed in the most amazing way, helpless to their whims as you tugged against your restraints. One hand is pressing into your neck, choking you. Another has two fingers buried deep into you, curling up into you in tandem with the other hand cruelly pinching at your clit. Your nipples were being bitten, tugged, and roughly abused by the men using your body. At this moment you truly were just a toy for their amusement.

Yoongi laughed as he saw your eyes cross slightly, your orgasm approaching. By now he could recognize the signs. "Do you even know whose fingers are inside of you right now, Y/N? God, you really are a slut."

Your cheeks flushed under his words, whimpering as you felt your climax sneak up on you along with the shame. You didn't even know who was inside of you right now, as it could be any of the three men, one of which you still had yet to see! That only narrowed it down to... any of the seven men in the house! You wanted so badly for him to speak again so you could pick up on any clues of who he was. 

"Tell you what, if you can guess correctly, maybe we'll let you cum on our cocks when we actually fuck you," Yoongi bargains.

Your mouth dropped open, trying so hard to place whose nimble digits were currently driving you crazy. It doesn't feel like how Taehyung or Jungkook had done it earlier. It could be Namjoon. Then again, maybe Yoongi was changing his technique to throw you off. Every man here seemed especially keen on having you make a fool of yourself. It felt as though the answer was on the tip of your tongue, but with the oncoming orgasm and the multitude of sensations you were feeling from the pairs of hands on you, you were unable to answer.

"I-I-" you stammered.

"Any guesses?" Yoongi further prodded. "No?"

If they could see your eyes under your blindfold, they'd see your eyes watering. "I don't know," you sniffled, admitting defeat.

Yoongi clicked his tongue in disappointment. "Slut," he chastised. "You're about to cum on some stranger's fingers like some common toy."

The stranger let out a harsh laugh. "Pathetic," he hissed.

At that moment you felt your biggest orgasm yet wash over you, the answer to your question immediately consuming your senses as you figured out who it was. The hands pinned you down to the mattress as you rode out your orgasm, shaking in their hold. 

One hand was petting your hair softly in reward- no doubt Namjoon. He was pulling off your blindfold, letting you see the three men on the bed with you. You were met with a blurry sight, the light making you squint your eyes as you tried to open them. You were met with the dark and lustful gazes of Yoongi, Namjoon, and the one who had started this whole mess.

Jimin smirked, finally pulling his fingers out of your pussy, admiring the soaked and glistening digits. "Seems like you've been awfully busy, huh, Y/N? Having fun?"

You instinctively tugged onto your restraints, your struggle causing the man to laugh at you. He buried his fingers in your mouth, three digits pressing against your tongue to make you taste yourself. He forced you to nod, his eyes locked with yours.

"You're fucking loving this, huh? Like the attention?" You were allowed a gasp of air, panting as you stared into Jimin's eyes. He grins at your expression, the lust still apparent. "Always knew that was what you were really a slut for."

He pulled away to your surprise, adjusting his clothes as he walked towards the door. "You guys have your fun with her. Don't let her cum again though- I doubt she's actually listened."

With that he left the room, leaving you to your fate with the two other men before you.

Yoongi snickered, staring back at where Jimin left. "He really gets under your skin, huh? You look more flushed than ever." He sticks his thumb in your mouth, letting you suck. "Thought you two didn't get along. Why's this pussy so wet then, hm?"

"This is a-all his fault," you stammered when he pulled his thumb out.

"We should thank him then," Yoongi chuckled. "Might I suggest a tray of brownies?" 

"He did say to not let her cum," Namjoon reminded him. His fingers wander to your glistening pussy, lightly brushing over your folds, seeing you twitch in sensitivity. "She has been pretty bratty, too."

"Mm, can you take your punishment then like a big girl and not cum when we use you? Toys don't cum, y'know," Yoongi purrs in your ear. "Gonna make it up to us for being a bad girl?"

"Bu- Oh!" You wince and gasp in surprise as Namjoon delivers a swat to your pussy.

He tsked with derision. "You should be grateful we're even using you. We've made you cum so much already, and you're still a brat."

"He's right." Yoongi grabbed your jaw to face you to him, your noses just centimeters apart. "Are you finally gonna be good, cutie?"

He nodded your head in his grasp for you, his fingers digging into your cheeks to make your lips pucker. "I'll be good," you responded, the words coming out funny.

"Good toy." He gave you a peck on the cheek, giving Namjoon a nod.

Namjoon let his fingers wander over your sex once again, inserting a few digits to prepare you before he started rubbing the head at your entrance. He slid it up and down, rubbing your slick all over both of you, teasing you. You let out a hiss of impatience, earning a small smack to the cheek from Yoongi. Namjoon took the hint, slowly pushing himself into you until he was buried at the hilt. 

Controversial take: the first full slide in is always the most satisfying. Something about the sudden sensation of being full, really being joined, felt so perfect. It was like the first sip of a can of Coke. It's debatable which is better, though.

Namjoon started pumping into you, your body swaying with his rhythm. You tried not to think about how Namjoon's well endowed appendage was hitting that particular part of you easily. You also ignored the now familiar pressure in your gut.  You also chose to ignore Yoongi's now curious fingers, his twisting and tugging at your nipples only adding to your pleasure.

"You feel so good," Namjoon rasped, his breathing uneven as he kept shoving his cock into you at full speed. "Fuck, knew you would."

"Perfect toy," Yoongi added, praising you. "Being so good for us."

"Gonna let me cum in you, Y/N?" Namjoon requested, his sweat beginning to drop down on you in droplets. "Be a good toy, yeah?"

"Mhm," you nodded eagerly, grabbing onto Yoongi as you dug your nails in, trying not to meet your climax with Namjoon's pelvis continuously grinding against your clit. "Cum in me, need it!"

Namjoon's pelvis was suddenly glued to yours, his cockhead pressing right against that sweet spot of yours as it twitched inside of you, suddenly filling out. He moaned, hunching forward near you, connecting your lips in a deep kiss as he emptied himself inside of you. "Fuckkk," he moaned against your lips, fingers curling into your hair, a tight fist formed as he finished. "So good."

"Quit hogging her." Yoongi quickly shoved Namjoon off of you after a few moments, hand smearing the cum that was now dribbling out of you back on you. "Shit, you want it so bad, huh?" He noticed how you keen at his touches. "Think you can take a little more? You slutty enough for it?"

You nodded, hips bucking as you yanked at your restraints. "Yeah, I can take it. Wanna be a good toy for you two."

"Mmm, you're so cute," Yoongi smiled, pressing into you all at once with no fanfare. You gasp at that amazing feeling of being full once again, and grind your hips up, trying to feel him move inside of you.

"Please," you begged, a pout on your lips. "Use me."

A laugh of amusement escaped his lips. "No need to plead for it, sweetie. I'll give it to you."

He angled his hips a bit and starts thrusting into you, aiming precisely. On top of that, his hand reached up to your neck, giving you that intoxicating feeling of being chocked. The blood rush and endorphins flowing through you were bringing you dangerously close to climax, but you try to distract yourself. You bit down on your lip and closed your eyes, trying not to let them cross and have your mind melt into utter bliss.

“Such a good slut, should’ve asked for this cock earlier,” Yoongi panted, sweat forming at his temples. “Would’ve given it to you any time, actually.”

You just about fluster at the compliment, tugging at all of the restraints as though to escape his dirty compliment. You felt the same way about all of them, actually.

Yoongi saw how hard you tried. "Maybe we'll let her cum one more time..."

"Thought rules were rules?" Namjoon questioned. Yoongi may have initially came off as the most sadistic at first, but it was Namjoon you really had to watch out for. He was the more twisted of the two. "Let her learn a lesson."

"Yeah, but she's so cute, just look at her," Yoongi commented. You can't help but grin at that, and decidedly so, Namjoon's hand is coming up to your clit to rub at you and help you finish. Something about that just added to it, as though he couldn't help but agree that you were just too pretty to say no to. And hey, free orgasm, who are you to turn it down. 

Before you knew it, and with both of their permission, you were finishing. You were so caught up in it, especially after the somewhat brief edging curtesy of Namjoon and Jimin, you didn't even noticing Yoongi finishing as well. His moaned out as he drained every drop into you, pulling out with a satisfied expression on his face. He looked at yours, so dumbed out and breathless, as though you were finally satisfied.

The first thought that came to your head though as they untied you, (+ massaged your sore muscles, and showered you in kisses,) was that maybe you weren't just yet...

[keehomania]

professor (교수님) — kim namjoon (김남준)

✧.* 18+

the classroom was a haven of knowledge, a place where the boundaries of your mind were pushed and expanded. every time you walked through those doors, you were met with an air of possibility, the faint scent of old books mingling with the fresh anticipation of discovery. all of the professors had ways of making the most complex concepts feel within reach, of turning abstract theories into tangible truths that you could almost hold in your hands.

they spoke with a quiet confidence, their words weaving intricate patterns that painted the vastness of the world before you. each lecture was a journey, guiding you through the twisting paths of philosophy, literature, and history. they had a gift for connecting seemingly unrelated ideas, showing you how the art of renaissance painters could influence modern technology, or how ancient philosophies could still hold relevance in the digital age. under their guidance, you realized that learning wasn’t just about absorbing information; it was about seeing the world through different lenses, understanding the interconnectivity of all things.

you delved into texts that explored the human condition, the nature of existence, and the purpose of life. you wrestled with questions that had no easy answers, questions that required you to look within yourself for understanding. it wasn’t just about gaining knowledge for the sake of it—it was about applying what you learned to your own life, using it as a tool to navigate the complexities of existence.

but among all the things you studied—science, art, history, language—there was one thing that stood out as the most important: the lessons you learned. these weren’t found in any textbook or taught in any lecture. they were the lessons life had already carved into your soul, shaped by your experiences, your failures, your triumphs. under your own guidance, you came to understand that the most valuable knowledge you could acquire wasn’t about facts or theories. it was about the wisdom you gained from living, from making mistakes, and most importantly, from learning from those mistakes. in the end, it wasn’t just the information you gathered that mattered, but how you used it to grow, to become better, and to understand the world and yourself more deeply. if only you had put those lessons learned to better use.

you hadn't been taught the lesson of love, not in the way you had learned about history or philosophy. love was never something you could study in a textbook or learn through the wisdom of others. it was a lesson you learned by living it, feeling it, enduring it. but you had always trusted too easily, believing that everyone who offered you a kind word or a gentle touch had your best interests at heart. it was a trait that made those around you frustrated, watching as you opened yourself up to hurt time and again. even you, in quieter moments of reflection, found yourself exasperated by your own naivety. but you couldn't help it; trusting others came as naturally to you as breathing.

so, it was no shock—no surprise, really—when you got your heart broken for the first time. you were in your early twenties, a time when many had already experienced their share of heartbreaks and fleeting romances. you, on the other hand, had waited. you had held out for something real, something lasting, thinking that by doing so, you could avoid the pain that others had endured. but love, as you learned, didn't work that way.

for two years, you were caught up in what you thought was a love that would last forever. you built your life around it, around him. you imagined a future where the two of you would wake up side by side, where you would make breakfast together in a sunlit kitchen, sharing quiet moments over coffee. you dreamed of nights spent stargazing, your fingers intertwined as you pointed out constellations, finding comfort in the steady light of the north star. your idea of forever was simple, yet profound: it was the promise of a shared life, of growing old together, of finding peace in each other's presence.

his idea of forever was something else entirely. it was a fleeting thing, something that could be found at the bottom of a bottle of vodka or in the anonymity of a cheap motel room. it was in the arms of whoever he could get his hands on first, someone who wasn’t you. the realization that he had been unfaithful—repeatedly, with over fourteen different girls—shattered the image of the life you had built in your mind. every girl was another crack in the foundation of your trust, another tear in the fabric of your heart. it wasn’t just the betrayal that hurt, but the way you had been so blind to it, so willing to believe that what you had was real.

you were devastated, to say the least. the pain wasn’t just emotional; it was physical, a deep ache that settled in your chest, radiating through your entire body. the nights were the hardest. you would lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, replaying every moment of your relationship, trying to pinpoint where it had all gone wrong. you wanted to understand how the love you had given so freely could have been so thoroughly disregarded. but no matter how many times you turned it over in your mind, you couldn’t make sense of it.

the worst part was that you couldn’t even be angry with him. you wanted to be—to scream, to curse him for the way he had treated you—but all you felt was a hollow sadness. you were disappointed in him, but more so, you were disappointed in yourself. how could you have let this happen? how could you have been so foolish, so trusting? you had always prided yourself on being smart, on being able to see through people’s intentions, but when it came to him, you had been blind.

the nights following your heartbreak were long, seemingly endless. sleep was a distant stranger, slipping through your fingers every time you tried to grasp it. Instead, you spent those hours in late-night conversations with your friends, searching for solace in their words. their voices were a lifeline, pulling you from the depths of your despair, even if just for a little while. you talked about everything and nothing, dissecting the intricacies of your failed relationship, trying to find some sense of closure that always seemed just out of reach.

those talks were punctuated by silences filled with the quiet clicking of a lighter, the soft exhale of smoke as you shared a joint or two. the haze it brought was a welcome escape, a way to dull the sharp edges of your thoughts, to ease the relentless ache in your chest. it wasn’t a solution, but it was enough to get you through the night, to carry you to the next day. and on those days when the darkness seemed to press in too close, you relied on the small comforts you could control—a coin flipped to decide whether you would indulge in a few too many sweets or abstain from food altogether. it was a way of exerting some semblance of control over a life that felt like it was spiraling out of your grasp.

but after weeks of the same routine, you began to realize that you were merely existing, floating in a limbo of your own making. the conversations, the indulgences, the vices—they were all temporary fixes, distractions that couldn’t mask the hollow feeling that had settled in your chest. you were tired of it, tired of feeling like a shadow of yourself, tired of being weighed down by the remnants of a love that was never truly yours.

and so, one night, as you stared into the mirror, you made up your mind. you were going to step out of the bubble you had been living in, to let loose, if only for a single night. you reasoned that if he could spend two years indulging in every whim and desire, seemingly without consequence, then why couldn’t you do the same for just one night? why couldn’t you, for once, allow yourself the freedom to be someone else, to cast aside the constraints of who you were and embrace something—someone—new?

as you stood there, gazing at your reflection, you barely recognized the person staring back at you. your makeup was bold, the colors striking and uncharacteristic of your usual understated look. the dress you wore was scandalous, clinging to your curves in a way that made you feel both powerful and exposed. it was a look that screamed confidence, even if you didn’t fully feel it yet. but that was the point, wasn’t it? you were going to stop being you for just one night, just enough time to forget, to drown out the memories of a love that had never truly been yours.

you inhaled deeply, letting the air fill your lungs, steadying yourself for what was to come. Yyu weren’t sure what you were seeking—perhaps a fleeting connection, a momentary escape, someone who could make you forget all about him for a few hours. maybe you didn’t need to know. maybe it was enough to simply let nature take its course, to surrender to the night and whatever it might bring.

the club pulsed with a life of its own, the heavy bass thumping through the floor, reverberating in your chest as the neon lights cast erratic shadows across the crowd. bodies moved in sync with the music, a sea of motion and sound that made it easy to lose yourself if you let it. but your mind, despite the alcohol and the haze of smoke in the air, remained annoyingly sharp, focused on anything but the moment at hand.

you leaned closer to your friend, your voice slightly raised to be heard over the music. “did you hear about the new english and philosophy teacher? they’re replacing—”

ahe groaned, cutting you off with an exasperated look. “please,” she begged, placing a hand on your arm, “not tonight. can we just, for once, not talk about teachers or school or anything remotely responsible? we’re here to let loose, remember?”

you hesitated, the words dying on your lips. she wasn’t wrong. you were supposed to be here to escape, to forget, not to get caught up in the mundane details of your everyday life. but old habits died hard, and it was difficult to switch off the part of you that found comfort in routine and order, even when surrounded by chaos. still, you nodded, forcing a smile, and took a deep breath, letting the noise and the lights and the sheer energy of the place wash over you. “okay,” you said, more to yourself than to her. “okay, let’s do this.”

your friend grinned, a mischievous glint in her eyes as she reached for the bottle on the table. the label was foreign, the name of the alcohol something you couldn’t even begin to pronounce. that should have been your first warning, but tonight was all about ignoring those little voices of caution in your head. she poured a shot for you, and then one for herself, the clear liquid shimmering under the lights. “bottoms up,” she said, lifting her glass.

you mirrored her action, the cool glass pressed against your lips as you downed the shot in one swift motion. the burn was immediate, searing down your throat and settling heavily in your stomach. it was unpleasant, but it was also a distraction, a welcome one at that. you had no intention of focusing on the men who watched you from across the room, their eyes lingering on your exposed skin as if you were some kind of display piece. it made your skin crawl, but you forced yourself to ignore it, to focus on the drinking instead. the coin had been flipped, and tonight, apparently, drinking it all away was your new diet. so you did just that. another shot, then another, until the sharp edges of your thoughts began to blur and the leering gazes of strangers became easier to dismiss.

but then, in the midst of it all, you saw him. he was standing at the edge of the crowd, partially obscured by the throng of people. you didn’t see much at first, just a tall figure with a presence that drew your eye. He was turned slightly away, talking to someone, but something about him caught your attention, held it. you found yourself staring, your curiosity piqued in a way that the alcohol couldn’t dull. and then he turned around.

your eyes met, and the world seemed to slow for a moment, the noise around you fading into the background. he was gorgeous, that was your first thought. his features were sharp, striking—high cheekbones, a jawline that could cut glass, and eyes that were dark and intense, holding a depth that made you feel as though he could see right through you. there was a sweet smile on his lips, but it was his eyes that captivated you. there was something almost menacing in them, a contrast that sent a shiver down your spine.

he didn’t look away, and neither did you. for a moment, it was as if the two of you were the only ones in the room, a silent understanding passing between you despite the fact that you didn’t know him, and he didn’t know you. but that didn’t matter. not tonight. before you could second-guess yourself, you did something you wouldn’t normally do. you flashed him a smile, one that you hoped was confident, maybe even a little alluring, and silently prayed that the universe would take your side for once. that, just this once, everything would fall into place.

you turned back around, the music vibrating through your body as you reached for another drink, your hand shaking slightly as you grasped the cool glass. you brought it to your lips and downed it in one go, the burn familiar by now, comforting in its own way. the alcohol was your crutch tonight, something to hold onto as you navigated this unfamiliar terrain of letting go, of not being yourself for just one night. you prayed silently, to whatever or whoever might be listening, that he would come over. that the universe, for once, would be kind. and as if in answer to your unspoken wish, you felt a tap on your shoulder.

you turned, heart racing, and there he was. the man from across the room, the one whose gaze had pulled you in and held you captive. his smile was easy, confident, the kind that could make anyone believe that the night might hold something special, something just for you. “mind if i buy you a drink?” he asked, his voice low and smooth, carrying easily over the noise. “or have you had enough already?”

you smiled, fighting the urge to laugh at the absurdity of it all. fuck, not another drink or you might just convulse, you thought silently. but what you really said was, “you could keep me company, and i might make it worth your while.” he laughed, a sound that seemed to roll through you like the bass in the music, deep and warm. “i like that offer,” he said, as he took a seat next to you, his presence somehow making the world around you feel smaller, more intimate.

there was something about him, something that made you feel like the night was just beginning, like everything before this moment had been leading up to something. you looked at him, really looked at him, trying to decipher what it was that drew you to him, but all you could see were those eyes, that sharp jaw, the way he seemed to belong in a place like this, even if you didn’t. “what’s a guy like you doing alone in a place like this?” you asked, leaning in slightly, letting the alcohol loosen your tongue.

he shrugged, his expression casual, as if the answer didn’t matter much. “felt like it’d be nice for a change,” he replied, before his gaze slid back to you. “what about you?”

you sighed, the weight of the night settling on your shoulders. “i felt it’d be nice too,” you admitted, “but that feeling was dead wrong.” he laughed again, and the sound was a little sharper this time, a little more knowing. it made you pause, a sudden, unwelcome memory resurfacing—a project due tomorrow, something about socrates. you groaned inwardly, realizing how far you had strayed from your usual path, how this was so unlike you.

“a project,” you muttered, more to yourself than to him, the thought slipping out before you could stop it. he raised an eyebrow, clearly amused. “what about?”

“socrates,” you said with a hint of frustration. “i decided to do one on him, but it completely slipped my mind.” he scoffed lightly, a smirk playing on his lips. “poor choice, aristotle is much more influential.”

“okay, and?” you countered, a spark of your usual self peeking through. “socrates is the more seminal one.” his amusement deepened, his eyes studying you with renewed interest. “i can’t believe a smart thing like you is in a place like this.”

you frowned, the words not sitting well with you. they reminded you of everything you were trying to forget tonight, everything you didn’t want to be for just a few hours. “i don’t want to be a smart thing,” you said softly, almost to yourself. “not tonight.”

something in his expression shifted, softened, as he looked at you. he placed a hand on your thigh, the touch warm and steady, grounding you in a way that nothing else had that night. “are you sure you feel that way?” he asked gently, his voice low, the words carrying a weight you weren’t sure you could handle. you didn’t feel that way, not really. but tonight wasn’t about what you usually felt, or who you usually were. It was about letting go, about being someone else, if only for a little while. so you forced yourself to nod, even though a small voice in the back of your mind screamed that this wasn’t you, that this wasn’t right.

he seemed to sense your hesitation, but he didn’t push. instead, he simply said, “let me help you.” you opened your mouth to ask what he meant, but before you could, he was gently tugging your wrist, gesturing for you to follow him. your vision, blurred by the alcohol and the dim lighting, focused enough for you to see where he was leading you—to the back, to the private rooms. a sense of unease settled in your stomach, but you pushed it aside, telling yourself that this was what you wanted, what you needed.

you followed him, your heart pounding louder with each step. the corridor to the private rooms was dimly lit, the music a dull thrum in the background. as you walked, he glanced back at you, that same smile playing on his lips, the one that had stopped you in your tracks just minutes earlier. “i never got your name, sweetheart,” he said, his voice teasing, yet somehow sincere.

you gave him your name, “(y/n) (l/n),” the sound of it foreign in your own ears, as if it belonged to someone else. “and yours?” you asked, trying to hold onto the last vestiges of caution.

he turned to you fully then, his eyes meeting yours with a mixture of mischief and something else, something darker. “namjoon,” he said, the name rolling off his tongue with a confidence that matched everything else about him. “kim namjoon.” and as he said it, you felt the world shift slightly, as if that name carried more weight than you could understand. but you were too far gone to care, too far gone to do anything but follow him, to see where this night might lead, to forget about everything else—your project, your heartbreak, your old self—and lose yourself in the unknown, if only for a few hours.

the private room was dimly lit, the shadows playing across the walls as you and namjoon stepped inside. the door clicked shut behind you, a sound that seemed to echo in the small space, followed by the unmistakable turn of a lock. it felt final, as if you were sealing yourself off from the rest of the world, from everything you knew, leaving only this moment, this man, and the uncertain promise of the night ahead.

you couldn’t help but watch him as he moved, your eyes tracing the strong lines of his body. the way his broad shoulders filled the space, how his black shirt clung to the muscles beneath, made your heart race. his hands, veiny and strong, were relaxed by his sides, but you couldn’t stop imagining them wrapped around you, feeling their strength and gentleness at once. and his eyes—god, his eyes—were the most mesmerizing of all. they were dark, intense, and held a dangerous kind of allure, like something that could either save you or ruin you, depending on how close you got.

a flicker of doubt wormed its way into your mind. you worried you might not be enough, not for someone like him. he was so composed, so sure of himself, and you—well, you were there trying to forget who you were, trying to become someone else for just a night. what if that wasn’t enough? what if you weren’t enough? namjoon must have sensed your unease because his gaze softened, the same easy smile spreading across his lips as he approached you. his steps were unhurried, confident, and with each one, the air between you seemed to thicken, heavy with anticipation.

when he reached you, he didn’t say anything at first. he simply cupped your cheek in his hand, his touch warm, and surprisingly gentle. his thumb stroked your skin, the soft caress sending a shiver down your spine, and for a moment, all you could do was stare up at him, lost in the darkness of his eyes. “you’re not afraid, sweetheart, are you?” he asked, his voice a low purr that sent another shiver through you. it was a voice that could coax secrets from you, a voice that promised things you weren’t sure you were ready for but found yourself wanting anyway.

was it fear that you were feeling? the heat coursing through your veins, the quickened beat of your heart, the way your skin seemed to burn where he touched you—was that fear? you didn’t know, and the uncertainty of it all made you nervous. but you shook your head, trying to convince yourself as much as him that you weren’t afraid.

he didn’t seem entirely convinced. he let out a soft, almost playful, tsk, his thumb still brushing against your cheek. “you should use your words, yeah?” he coaxed, his tone teasing, but there was an edge of seriousness beneath it, something that told you he wanted you to be sure, that he wanted you to choose this, to choose him. “i promise i’m not,” you managed to say, your voice softer than you intended, but steady enough. it felt like a small victory, a way to prove to yourself that you could do this, that you could be this version of yourself, if only for a night.

it seemed to be enough for him. namjoon’s smile widened, and the warmth in his eyes deepened, drawing you in even further. he leaned in slowly, giving you time to pull away, to change your mind, but you didn’t. you couldn’t. you were caught, helpless under the spell he was weaving with every look, every touch. when his lips finally met yours, it was like the world stopped. the kiss was slow, deliberate, as if he was savoring the moment, tasting it, tasting you. his lips were soft but insistent, moving against yours with a controlled kind of passion that left you breathless. he wasn’t rushing, wasn’t pushing for more, just kissing you like he had all the time in the world and was determined to spend it unraveling you, piece by piece.

you responded tentatively at first, unsure of how to match the intensity of his kiss. but he guided you, his free hand sliding around your waist, pulling you closer until your bodies were flush against each other. the heat between you flared, igniting something deep within you, something that made you press back against him, your lips parting slightly as you began to lose yourself in the feel of him. namjoon took the invitation, deepening the kiss as his tongue brushed against yours, sending a jolt of electricity through you. it wasn’t just a kiss—it was a claiming, a way of marking this moment as something significant, something more than just a fleeting encounter in a club. you could feel the way he held you, firm yet gentle, as if he was trying to tell you something without words, trying to show you how he could make you forget everything, even if just for tonight.

your hands found their way to his shoulders, gripping them as if they were the only thing keeping you grounded. his body was solid, reassuring, and the way he held you made you feel small, but in a good way, like you were being enveloped by something safe, something you could trust, even if only for these few stolen hours. he pulled back slightly, just enough to break the kiss, and rested his forehead against yours. his breath was warm against your lips, mingling with your own, and for a moment, the two of you just stood there, breathing together, the air thick with the tension and the promise of what was to come.

“you sure about this?” he asked again, his voice a whisper in the small space between you. his eyes searched yours, looking for any hint of doubt, any sign that you weren’t ready. but you were ready. or at least, you wanted to be. you nodded, your hand coming up to rest on his chest, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your palm. it was calming in a way, a reminder that despite everything, despite the chaos in your own heart, there was something steady, something real, right in front of you. and so, with the taste of him still lingering on your lips, you whispered back, “i’m sure.”

his smile grew, and his hand slid down to the hem of your dress. with one swift tug, he pulled it over your head, revealing your bare skin to the cool air of the room. you felt exposed, vulnerable, but his gaze was like a warm blanket, wrapping around you, making you feel seen and desired. his eyes raked over you, pausing at your tits, your stomach, your hips, and you felt your cheeks flush with heat. he stepped back just enough to take you in, his gaze lingering on your lacy black bra, the one you’d picked out specifically for tonight, hoping it would be enough to catch his eye.

his hands went to his own shirt, and he began to unbutton it, one button at a time, his eyes never leaving yours. the anticipation was almost unbearable, the slow reveal of his chest, his abs, the v of his hips disappearing into his pants. when he was finally bare-chested, you couldn’t help but stare. he was beautiful, sculpted in a way that made your mouth water, and you felt a sudden urge to reach out, to trace every line and curve with your fingertips.

before you could act on the impulse, namjoon stepped closer again, his hand sliding up your back to unclasp your bra. it fell away, and your tits spilled into his waiting hands. his thumbs brushed over your nipples, and you gasped at the sensation, the pleasure shooting straight to your core. his eyes never left yours as he played with you, teasing you, watching as your breath grew shallower, as your eyes glazed over with lust. “you like that, don’t you?” he murmured, his voice a dark promise. and you nodded, unable to form coherent words as he continued to toy with your sensitive flesh, rolling your nipples between his thumbs and forefingers, tugging gently until you were squirming against him.

his other hand slid down to your ass, squeezing it firmly, and he stepped closer, pressing his growing erection against your stomach. it was a clear message, one that sent a bolt of excitement through you, making you even wetter than you already were. without breaking eye contact, he leaned down to whisper in your ear, his breath hot against your skin, “you’re so fucking pretty. can’t wait to ruin you.” the words sent a shiver down your spine, and you nodded, your voice a breathless agreement.

his hand moved from your ass to the hem of your panties, and with a quick pull, they were pooled around your ankles, leaving you in absolutely nothing. he knelt down, kissing a trail from your belly button to one your hips, and you could feel the dampness seeping onto his fingers. his fingers slid down your legs, relishing in the fact that you were completely bare before him. his eyes took in the sight of you, and you could see the hunger in them, the desire that mirrored your own.

his hand slid up your thigh, his thumb brushing against your clit, making you jump. he chuckled, a low, dark sound that sent shivers through your body. “you’re sensitive, aren’t you?” he asked, his voice a purr that made you want to melt into him. “yes,” you admitted, your voice barely a whisper. “good, i like that in a woman.”

his hand slid away, and you felt a pang of loss, but it was quickly replaced by the pressure of his mouth on your pussy, his tongue sliding through your folds, tasting you. your legs trembled, and you had to hold onto his shoulders to keep from collapsing. his tongue was skilled, teasing and probing, making you gasp and moan with every stroke. you’d never felt anything like this before, never been this exposed, this wanton. and as he worked you over, you realized you didn’t care. all you cared about was the feel of his mouth on you, the way he was making you feel.

his tongue circled your clit, and you felt your orgasm building, a pressure that grew and grew until you couldn’t hold it back any longer. you cried out, your body shaking as you came, the sensation overwhelming you. namjoon didn’t stop, didn’t ease up, just kept licking and sucking until you were a trembling mess, your legs barely able to hold you up.

he stood, a smug smile on his face, and you couldn’t help but stare at his erection, straining against his pants. he noticed your gaze and chuckled, reaching down to free himself. “you want it?” he asked, stroking himself, and you nodded, your mouth dry with need. he led you to the bed, pushing you down gently. “spread your legs for me,” he said, his voice a command that sent a thrill through you. you did as he asked, your heart racing as he climbed on top of you. he positioned himself at your entrance, and without any preamble, pushed inside you. you gasped, the sensation of his size filling you up, stretching you in the most delicious way.

his thrusts were deep and deliberate, hitting that perfect spot inside you that made you see stars. you wrapped your legs around his waist, urging him deeper, your nails digging into his back. he groaned, the sound sending waves of pleasure through you. “you’re so tight, so wet,” he murmured, his breath hot in your ear. “feel so good around me, baby.”

his hand found your ass, and he began to spank you lightly, the sting melding with the pleasure, pushing you closer to the edge again. you moaned, your hips moving in sync with his, your body begging for more. “yes, like that,” you panted, and he complied, his hand coming down harder, the smack echoing in the room.

his movements grew more urgent, his breath coming in harsh pants against your neck. “you’re gonna cum for me again, aren’t you?” he growled, his teeth grazing your skin. “yes, yes, please, namjoon,” you whimpered, unable to hold back the words that spilled from your lips.

his hand moved to your clit, his thumb pressing down as he thrust into you. the pressure was too much, and you shattered, your body clenching around him as wave after wave of pleasure washed over you. he followed closely behind, his own orgasm ripping through him, his body taut with the effort to hold off until you reached yours.

as you both came down from the high, he collapsed on top of you, his weight feeling surprisingly comforting. you could feel his heart hammering against your chest, matching the beat of your own. he kissed your neck, his breathing still ragged, and whispered, “you’re mine for the night, remember that.” and as you lay there, his cock still inside you, you realized you didn’t want it any other way.

his kisses grew softer, more tender, as his hand slid up to cup your cheek. he pulled out slowly, making you whimper at the sudden emptiness, but before you could miss it too much, he rolled onto his back, pulling you with him so that you were straddling him. he was still hard, and the feeling of him between your thighs was enough to make you want more. “ride me, baby,” he murmured, his voice thick with desire.

you didn’t need any more encouragement than that. you positioned yourself over him, your hands on his chest for balance as you began to slide up and down, his cock filling you with every movement. the sensation was different like this, the angle hitting you in new, delicious ways. you moaned, throwing your head back as you found a rhythm that made your toes curl. namjoon’s hands roamed your body, caressing your tits, your waist, your hips, guiding you, pushing you to go faster, to take him deeper.

his eyes never left yours, watching you with a hunger that made you feel powerful, like you could do anything. and as you moved above him, grinding down on his length, you realized that maybe you could. you felt alive in a way you hadn’t in a long time, free from the constraints of who you were outside of this room.

his thumb found your clit again, and he began to rub it in slow, deliberate circles. your eyes rolled back in your head, and you leaned down to kiss him, your movements growing erratic as you approached the edge once more. he swallowed your moans, his own hips bucking up to meet yours, pushing you closer and closer. you felt it building, the tension coiling in your belly, tightening around his cock. your muscles clenched, and you gripped his shoulders, your nails digging in as you came, your body shaking with the force of it. namjoon’s grip on your hips tightened, his own orgasm following quickly after, his cock pulsing inside you.

you collapsed against him, your breaths mingling, your bodies slick with sweat. his arms wrapped around you, holding you close, and for a moment, you just enjoyed the feeling of him, the way he filled you up in more ways than one. as you caught your breath, you couldn’t help but wonder what the rest of the night would bring. would it be more of this? or would it end with the club, a memory that you’d cherish forever? either way, you knew you’d never forget the way he’d made you feel—like you were the only thing that mattered, like you were the most important person in the world. and as you felt his heart beating in time with yours, you realized that maybe, just maybe, you didn’t need to be anyone else but yourself to be enough.

the pale light of dawn was beginning to filter through the cracks in the curtains when you stirred, the dim glow pulling you out of a deep, dreamless sleep. it took you a moment to remember where you were. the unfamiliar surroundings, the dimly lit room, and the soft, warm body lying next to you—everything came rushing back in a disorienting wave. the events of the night before flashed in your mind, and with them, the realization of what time it must be.

your heart began to race as the panic set in. morning classes. you had morning classes, and you weren’t in your bed, you weren’t even in your apartment—you were still here, in a private room that now felt too intimate, too close. you sat up carefully, trying not to disturb namjoon, who was still sleeping peacefully beside you. the sheets were tangled around you both, his hand resting on your thigh, his chest rising and falling with each slow, steady breath.

your gaze dropped to him, taking in the sight of his relaxed features, his slightly tousled hair, the way the early morning light played across his face. he looked almost boyish in his sleep, the sharpness in his eyes softened, his usually confident demeanor replaced by something more vulnerable. it was a sight that made your heart warm, despite the chaos swirling in your mind. for a moment, you hesitated. there was a strange comfort in being there with him, in the warmth of his presence and the softness of the bed beneath you. part of you wanted to stay, to curl back up against him, to let the world outside wait a little longer. but reality was a harsh companion, and the ticking clock in your mind reminded you that you had responsibilities, a life that didn’t include waking up in a stranger’s bed after a night of reckless abandon.

you gently lifted his hand off your thigh, sliding out of bed as quietly as you could. your feet touched the cool floor, sending a shiver up your spine as you quickly scanned the room for your clothes. they were scattered across the floor—your dress draped over a chair, your shoes lying haphazardly near the door, your bag tucked under the bed. as you gathered your things, you couldn’t help but steal a glance back at namjoon. he was still asleep, his breathing deep and even, one arm stretched out across the bed where you had just been. you paused, taking in the way he looked so at peace, a contrast to the whirlwind of emotions you were feeling.

you dressed quickly, your movements hurried but careful not to make too much noise. the dress, once sleek and form-fitting, now felt slightly wrinkled and askew as you slipped it back on. your fingers fumbled with the zipper, your mind too distracted by the thought of the morning ahead and the fact that you were nowhere near ready for it. just as you reached for your bag, you heard a rustling behind you. you froze, praying he wouldn’t wake up, but when you turned around, there he was—propped up on one elbow, his eyes half-open, still heavy with sleep, but focused on you.

“where are you going?” he asked, his voice rough and low, still laced with the remnants of sleep. the sound of it sent a small thrill through you, even as you tried to calm your racing heart. “i have morning classes,” you replied, your voice quiet, almost apologetic. you weren’t sure why you felt the need to apologize, but something about the situation—the intimacy of the moment, the fact that you were leaving so abruptly—made you feel like you owed him an explanation.

namjoon blinked, his gaze sharpening slightly as he processed your words. he sat up fully, the sheets pooling around his waist as he ran a hand through his hair, making it even messier. “you won’t even let me treat you to breakfast?” he asked, a small, playful smile tugging at the corners of his lips. you couldn’t help but smile back, though it was tinged with regret. “maybe another time,” you said, already moving toward the door. “but i really can’t be late for my classes.”

he watched you for a moment, his expression unreadable, before he nodded. “i’ll see you around, then,” he said, his tone easy, but there was a note of something else in it, something that made your chest tighten slightly. you paused at the door, your hand on the handle, and turned back to him. “i had a good time,” you said, the words coming out softer than you intended, but they were true. despite everything, despite the way the morning had come too soon, you didn’t regret the night before.

he smiled again, that warm, disarming smile that had drawn you in from the start. “so did i.” with that, you slipped out of the room, the door closing softly behind you. the corridor outside was empty, the muffled thump of music from the club below barely audible through the thick walls. you hurried down the hallway, your mind racing with a million thoughts—what you were going to say if anyone saw you, how you were going to explain the state you were in, and most importantly, how you were going to make it to class on time.

the drive back to your apartment was a blur, your hands gripping the steering wheel a little too tightly as you sped through the early morning streets. the city was still waking up, the sun just beginning to rise, casting a pale, golden light over everything. you barely noticed, too focused on the task at hand—getting home, getting dressed, and somehow making it to class without looking like you had just rolled out of someone else’s bed. when you finally pulled up to your apartment, you nearly tripped over your own feet in your haste to get inside. the keys fumbled in your hand, slipping once, twice, before you managed to unlock the door and rush inside. your apartment was quiet, the kind of stillness that comes with the early morning hours, and for a brief moment, you let yourself pause, leaning against the door as you caught your breath.

there was no time to waste. you darted into your bedroom, shedding your dress and tossing it onto the bed as you rifled through your closet for your uniform. the blouse was slightly wrinkled, the skirt a little too short for your liking, but there was no time to worry about that now. you yanked the blouse on, your fingers clumsy as they buttoned it up, tucking it into the skirt with a haste that left it slightly uneven, but you didn’t care. you caught a glimpse of yourself in the mirror as you hurried to the bathroom, and winced. your makeup was a mess, the once-perfect red lipstick now faded to a nude smudge, your eyeliner smeared, leaving dark circles beneath your eyes that made you look more like a raccoon than the confident, put-together student you were supposed to be.

there was no time for a full fix, but you did what you could—wiping away the worst of the smudges with a makeup wipe, reapplying a thin layer of a lighter lpstick, and hoping that no one would look too closely. your hair was another matter entirely, tangled and wild from the night before, but a quick brush through had to suffice. with one last look in the mirror—satisfied that you were at least presentable—you grabbed your bag and bolted out the door, your heart pounding in your chest as you rushed to make it to class on time. you didn’t allow yourself to think about namjoon, about the way he had looked at you as you left, or the way his voice had lingered in your mind, soft and warm. there would be time for that later—maybe.

you made it to class just before the bell rang, your breath still a little uneven from the mad dash across campus. the relief that washed over you was short-lived, though, as you barely had time to compose yourself before you felt eyes on you. you caught soobin’s glance from the corner of your eye—he was the kind of friend who could read you like a book, even on your best days, and today was far from your best.

feigning being startled at your sudden appearance, soobin exaggeratedly flinched, his eyes widening in mock surprise before breaking into a smile. “well, well,” he drawled, his tone teasing, “i didn’t think you were gonna make it. i was about to call search and rescue.” you scowled at him, trying to ignore the way his smirk widened. but before you could retort, he leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. “so, how much is a night?”

his words were laced with humor, but they hit too close to home. you glared at him, a retort already on your lips. “you couldn’t afford it,” you shot back, your tone sharp, but there was no real heat behind it. the truth was too raw, too close to the surface, and you weren’t in the mood to joke about it. as you settled into your seat between soobin and heewon, you could feel the tension beginning to ease—only slightly, though. the classroom was slowly filling up, students chatting idly as they waited for class to begin, but you couldn’t shake the nagging feeling in the pit of your stomach.

heewon, who had been flipping through her notes, glanced up at you and immediately burst into laughter at the sight of your disheveled appearance. “god, you pull off the messy whore look really well,” she teased, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “almost like hyuna.” you rolled your eyes, not in the mood for jokes. “not today, hee,” you muttered, reaching into your bag to pull out a small mirror. you avoided looking at her directly as you adjusted your hair, trying to tame the unruly strands that refused to cooperate.

your reflection was unkind, showing the toll the morning’s rush had taken on you—your blouse was still slightly untucked, your skirt wrinkled from where you’d hastily shoved it on, and your lipstick was more of a faint suggestion than an actual color. heewon didn’t miss a beat, though. “if i didn’t know you,” she continued, her voice light and teasing, “i’d say you actually had that one-night stand you were talking about.”

the words hung in the air, and you froze, your hand stilling mid-motion as you applied another layer of nude lipstick. your blood ran cold as you slowly turned to look at her, your expression a mask of forced nonchalance. but she wasn’t fooled—her eyes widened in realization, shock flooding her features as she stared at you. “no way,” she breathed, a little too loud for comfort. her eyes darted around the room, but most of the other students were too engrossed in their own conversations to notice. she leaned in closer, her voice dropping to a whisper. “with who?”

you slapped her arm lightly, more out of habit than actual reprimand, and opened your mouth to answer. but before you could get a word out, the door to the classroom creaked open. the sudden silence that fell over the room was deafening, everyone’s attention snapping to the front as the principal stepped inside. he was a tall, stern-looking man with graying hair and sharp eyes, the kind of person who commanded respect without having to say much. he cleared his throat, and the last of the murmurs died away as he addressed the class.

“i’m sure most of you are aware by now that mister im has decided to leave us,” the principal began, his voice measured and calm. “but i wanted to personally introduce you all to your new english and philosophy professor.” there was a pause as he turned to the door, gesturing for the man outside to step in. the classroom was so quiet that you could hear the faint rustle of papers, the shifting of feet—everyone waiting with bated breath for the new teacher to make his entrance. and then he stepped in.

the world seemed to slow down as your eyes locked onto the man walking through the door. everything else fell away—the murmurs of the students, the sound of the clock ticking on the wall, even the very breath in your lungs—all of it disappeared as your gaze fixed on him. it was him. the man you had spent the night with, the one whose name you had whispered in the dim light of the private room just hours before. and now, here he was, standing in front of you as your new professor.

namjoon—no, professor kim namjoon—mister kim? whatever he was going to be called from that point on, froze in his tracks, his eyes scanning the room before they landed on you. for a moment, he looked just as shocked as you felt, his gaze narrowing slightly as if trying to make sure his mind wasn’t playing tricks on him. but there was no mistaking it—you were as real as they came, sitting there with wide eyes and a racing heart, just as he was standing there, trying to process the impossibility of the situation.

the principal, oblivious to the tension crackling in the air, turned to namjoon, his voice breaking the silence. “is everything okay?” namjoon blinked, snapping out of whatever thoughts had been running through his mind. he cleared his throat, his expression smoothing into something more composed, though you could see the faint tension in his jaw. “yes, everything’s fine,” he replied, his voice steady, but you could hear the slight edge to it, the barely perceptible waver that only someone who knew him—or had spent the night with him—might notice.

he turned back to the class, his gaze sweeping over the rows of students, but his eyes remained firmly on you as he introduced himself. “i’m professor kim namjoon,” he said, his voice carrying through the room with a quiet authority. “i’ll be your new english and philosophy instructor.” you were stunned into silence, your mind reeling as you tried to process what was happening. the man who had been a nameless stranger just hours before was now your professor, standing there in front of the entire class, his attention seemingly focused on you alone.

there was a brief moment where you thought you might faint, the weight of the situation pressing down on you like a lead blanket. but then namjoon’s gaze softened, just slightly, and you saw something there—recognition, yes, but also something else. a flicker of concern, perhaps, or maybe just a shared understanding of the gravity of the situation. and then, just as quickly, it was gone, replaced by the calm, composed demeanor of a professor addressing his class. he began speaking again, introducing the syllabus and his expectations for the course, but you barely heard a word of it. all you could focus on was the fact that your night of recklessness had followed you here, into the one place you had thought was safe, and there was no escaping it now.

as he continued to speak, you forced yourself to sit up straighter, to adopt the same mask of composure he had. but inside, you were anything but calm. your mind was racing, your thoughts tangled in a web of confusion and disbelief. heewon nudged you, her eyes wide as she glanced between you and namjoon, clearly sensing something was off but not daring to ask. soobin, for once, was silent, his usual teasing smirk replaced by a look of genuine concern.

but none of it mattered. not really. because as namjoon’s gaze flickered back to you, just for a moment, you knew that it was far from over. the connection you had felt the night before was still there, humming beneath the surface, and there was no telling where it might lead—or what it might cost you. the bell rang, signaling the start of class, but for you, it felt like the beginning of something else entirely.

namjoon had composed himself almost too well for someone who had just discovered an unexpected connection in his classroom. his voice was steady, professional, as he launched into the introduction of the day's topic—a deep dive into existential philosophy, a subject that would set the tone for the entire semester. his words flowed with an easy confidence, drawing the attention of the entire class, but your mind was a whirlwind, struggling to keep up with the reality of the situation. as he spoke, you found yourself stealing glances at him, trying to reconcile the man who stood before you now with the one you had been so intimately close to just hours ago. every time his eyes drifted toward you, your gaze would dart away, your heart beating too fast, too loud.

just as you were beginning to gather your thoughts, namjoon posed a question to the class, inviting anyone to share what they knew about existentialism. before you could react, heewon’s hand shot up beside you. “oh, (y/n) knows all about that,” she announced, her voice light with an undercurrent of mischief. she shot you a sideways glance, one eyebrow raised as if daring you to deny it.

you turned to face her, your eyes pleading, practically begging her to drop it. but she was never one to back down from a moment like this, especially when she sensed there was more to the story. your warning gaze seemed to only fuel her amusement. namjoon’s eyes flicked from heewon to you, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “is that so?” he asked, his tone carrying a playful edge that only you seemed to notice. “i figured you’d know it. you probably know most of the plan and program.”

his words hung in the air, the double meaning not lost on you. there was an almost imperceptible pause before he continued, his gaze locked onto yours. “why don’t you tell us what you know?” you swallowed hard, your mind racing to find an answer, any answer. but all you could think about was the night before—the way his voice had sounded in your ear, the warmth of his skin against yours. the memories clouded your thoughts, making it impossible to focus on the question he’d asked.

you opened your mouth, but no words came out. the silence stretched on, heavy and awkward, until soobin nudged you gently from the other side. his elbow digging into your ribs jolted you back to reality, and you forced yourself to speak. “sartre believed that existence precedes essence,” you began, your voice quieter than usual, barely above a whisper. “it means that we're born without purpose, and it’s our responsibility to give our lives meaning through our actions.”

namjoon’s smile widened, a look of approval crossing his face. “outstanding,” he said, his tone genuine, almost too warm. he paused for a moment, his gaze softening as he asked, “what’s your name?” the question caught you off guard, and for a moment, you were silent again, unable to form a response. it was as if the world had narrowed down to just the two of you, the classroom and the other students fading into the background. your mouth opened, but no sound came out, the weight of his gaze rendering you speechless.

another nudge from soobin brought you back to the present. you blinked, realizing that you had to respond. “it’s (y/n) (l/n),” you finally managed, your voice barely above a whisper. namjoon nodded, a hint of something unreadable in his expression as he repeated your name, letting it linger in the air. “(y/n),” he said softly, almost like he was testing how it felt on his tongue. “thank you for sharing.”

you could feel heewon’s eyes on you, a mixture of curiosity and realization dawning on her face. she wasn’t a fool—she had seen the way you had reacted, the way namjoon had looked at you, and it didn’t take long for her to start putting the pieces together. but you couldn’t bring yourself to care about what she thought, not when all you could focus on was him. he continued with the lecture, but you hardly heard a word of it. every time he turned back to the class, your gaze would drop to your desk, your heart thudding in your chest. the tension in the room was palpable, and you could tell that soobin and heewon were both aware of it, even if they didn’t fully understand why.

after what felt like an eternity, namjoon began handing out sheets of paper, instructing the class to spend the next fifteen minutes writing an essay on the topic he had introduced. you barely registered the words, your mind still caught up in the swirl of emotions from earlier. when he reached your desk, he paused, his movements slower, more deliberate. as he set the paper down in front of you, his hand brushed against your fingers, the contact brief but electric. you looked up at him, and for a moment, time seemed to stand still. his eyes locked onto yours, and you saw something in them—a flicker of desire, maybe, or perhaps just a shared acknowledgment of the impossible situation you both found yourselves in.

he took his bottom lip between his teeth, a small, almost imperceptible gesture that sent a shiver down your spine. the air between you crackled with tension, so thick that you could almost taste it. namjoon didn’t miss the look in your eyes, nor did he miss the way your thighs clenched together involuntarily at the sight of him. his gaze dropped for just a second before he looked back at you, his expression unreadable but intense.

heewon and soobin exchanged a worried look, sensing that something was off but unsure of what to make of it. but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. all that mattered was the man standing in front of you, the man who had somehow become both a stranger and something more in the span of just one night. namjoon lingered for a moment longer before moving on to the next student, but the heat of his touch stayed with you, lingering on your skin long after he had stepped away. you stared down at the blank sheet of paper in front of you, your mind a chaotic mess of thoughts and emotions, wondering how you were supposed to focus on anything else when the only thing you could think about was him.

you stared at the blank sheet of paper for what felt like forever, your thoughts swirling in a chaotic mess. the memory of Namjoon’s touch lingered on your skin, his presence looming over you despite him moving on to the next student. every word you tried to write felt forced, disjointed, as if your mind was too occupied with the events of the night before to form a coherent sentence. but you pushed through, forcing yourself to focus, to string together an essay that would meet namjoon’s expectations—or at least not embarrass yourself in front of him. you could feel his eyes on you occasionally as he walked around the room, checking on the other students, and every time, it made your heart race and your fingers tremble.

finally, you managed to write something—an essay that was far from your best work, but at least it was done. the bell rang, its sharp sound jolting you out of your thoughts. you let out a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding, relief washing over you as namjoon dismissed the class with a curt nod. the scraping of chairs and the shuffling of feet filled the room as everyone stood up and turned in their papers. you gathered your things slowly, hoping to blend in with the crowd, to escape without another encounter with him. as you moved toward the front to turn in your essay, soobin and heewon caught your attention.

“we’ll wait outside for you,” soobin said, a smirk playing on his lips as if he knew something you didn’t. your eyes pleaded with him, silently begging him not to leave you alone in this classroom. but it was too late; they were already heading out the door, leaving you and namjoon as the last ones in the room. you could feel the weight of his gaze on you, but you kept your eyes down, refusing to meet it. you set your paper on his desk, trying to make a quick exit.

but just as you reached the door, his voice stopped you. “i didn’t know you went to college here.” you froze, every muscle in your body tensing at his words. you slowly turned around, forcing yourself to face him, your heart pounding in your chest. “i didn’t know you worked here,” you replied, your voice barely steady.

the silence that followed was thick with tension, the air heavy with everything that was left unsaid. you could see the conflict in his eyes, the same uncertainty that mirrored your own. for a moment, neither of you spoke, the weight of the situation pressing down on you both. then he cleared his throat, the sound cutting through the silence like a knife. his gaze hardened, the warmth from earlier replaced with something colder, more distant. “please only refer to me as your professor from now on,” he said, his voice firm, leaving no room for argument.

the words hit you like a punch to the gut, the finality of them sinking in. it felt like your heart was physically breaking, the pain sharp and immediate. you opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out, the lump in your throat making it impossible to speak. he paused, his eyes flickering with something unreadable before he continued. “pretend like anything we had didn’t happen, for our sake.”

you nodded, the motion stiff and mechanical, even as the nausea churned in your stomach. it felt like the ground was slipping out from under you, like you were free-falling and there was nothing to catch you. but you forced a small, tight-lipped smile, doing your best to hide the turmoil inside. “see you next period, professor kim,” you managed to say, your voice trembling slightly. without waiting for a response, you turned and walked out of the room, your legs feeling like they were made of lead. every step felt heavier than the last, the weight of his words pressing down on you. as you pushed open the door and stepped into the hallway, the noise and bustle of the other students barely registered.

all you could think about was the way he had looked at you, the coldness in his eyes, and the realization that whatever connection you had felt the night before was now nothing but a distant memory. you could still feel the ghost of his touch on your skin, the memory of his voice in your ear, but it all felt so far away now, like a dream that had ended too soon. heewon and soobin were waiting for you just outside the classroom, their expressions shifting from playful to concerned the moment they saw you. heewon opened her mouth to say something, but you shook your head, silently begging her not to ask. you couldn’t talk about it, not now—not when everything felt so raw, so real.

the day felt like a blur as you made your way through the bustling hallways, trying to shake off the weight of the morning’s events. you met up with soobin and heewon during your free period, desperate for some semblance of normalcy. the café in the student center was a welcome escape, its warm lighting and soft chatter offering a brief respite from the chaos in your mind. you slid into a booth with them, the leather seats creaking under the weight of your exhaustion. you barely registered the vibrant colors and bustling activity around you, too preoccupied with the events of the morning.

“so,” soobin said, leaning in with an inquisitive look. “what the hell happened between you and professor kim?” you took a deep breath, trying to gather your thoughts. with a heavy sigh, you began recounting the events of the previous night—everything from the club, the fleeting connection with namjoon, to the morning’s abrupt encounter in class. your friends listened in stunned silence, their eyes widening with each detail.

when you finished, soobin’s jaw dropped, his eyes darting between you and heewon. “i didn’t expect that,” he said, shaking his head in disbelief. heewon, on the other hand, was practically vibrating with excitement. “you’re kidding me,” she said, her eyes shining with admiration. “he’s like, the hottest professor ever. you did good, really good.”

you managed a weak smile at her enthusiasm, feeling a twinge of warmth despite the tumult inside. as you looked around, your gaze fell upon namjoon again, this time surrounded by a swarm of female students. they clustered around him, offering water and engaging in casual conversation. his earlier gaze had been replaced by a smile that was charming but distant, his attention firmly on his admirers. “guess you aren’t his only fan,” soobin remarked dryly, his tone carrying a hint of amusement.

you turned back to your friends, trying to mask the tightness in your chest. “i don’t care,” you said, your voice carrying a trace of frustration. “i’m not allowed to care.” heewon placed a reassuring hand on your arm, her eyes softening with sympathy. “look on the bright side,” she said gently. “you got over your ex, if anything. and maybe, in some weird way, this is a chance to start fresh.”

her words were meant to be comforting, but they only served to remind you of the painful truth. the breakup with your ex had left you vulnerable and searching for validation, and namjoon’s presence had complicated everything in ways you hadn’t anticipated. but you nodded, appreciating her attempt to offer perspective. you managed a grateful smile, the gesture feeling heavy but sincere. as you sipped your coffee, the bitter taste seemed to mirror the complexity of your emotions. the conversation drifted, and you tried to focus on the mundane topics your friends brought up, but your thoughts kept returning to namjoon.

the next day unfolded with a disorienting sense of déjà vu, as if you were trapped in a cycle you couldn’t escape. the english period began with a heaviness in your chest, a reminder of the previous day’s awkward encounter with namjoon. his presence was now a constant, uncomfortable weight, and you braced yourself for another session of tense interactions. he entered the classroom, his authoritative stride commanding immediate attention. he took his place at the front, his gaze scanning the room with a sharpness that made your skin prickle. the air seemed charged with unspoken tension as he began his lesson, his voice smooth but carrying an edge.

throughout the class, it became increasingly clear that namjoon was deliberately targeting you. his questions were relentless, designed to probe and unsettle. his piercing eyes would lock onto you as he asked complex questions about the texts you’d studied. “so,” he said, his tone casual but with an undercurrent of challenge, “can you tell me how socrates’ concept of virtue contrasts with plato’s theory of forms?” you stumbled over your answer, your mind racing to piece together a coherent response. “um, socrates—he believed that virtue was a form of knowledge, right? and plato, well, he thought virtue was tied to the ideal forms?”

namjoon clicked his tongue disapprovingly, the sound echoing through the classroom. “not quite. socrates did indeed view virtue as a form of knowledge, but plato’s theory of forms goes beyond that, focusing on the ideal forms as the true reality of virtue.” the click of his tongue felt like a stinging reprimand, and you could feel your cheeks flush with embarrassment. from behind, soobin offered a comforting wink, his eyes twinkling with mischief. you smiled back, grateful for his support, even if you didn’t fully understand his intentions.

as namjoon moved through the rows, he handed back the essays with a stoic expression. when he reached your table, he paused, his eyes scanning your paper. “you can do better,” he said, despite the high mark you’d received. his voice was flat, dismissive, and it stung more than the failing grade could have.

soobin leaned over as his eyes raked over the positive mark on your paper, a smirk playing on his lips. he whispered, “congratulations,” before wrapping his arms around your neck in a gesture that surprised you. he pressed a light kiss to your cheek, the touch warm and reassuring. “well done,” he added, his voice low and almost conspiratorial. you leaned into his embrace, finding solace in the brief moment of affection. it was partly for show, a subtle defiance in the face of namjoon’s scrutiny, but it felt genuine enough to offer a small comfort. as he pulled away, you couldn’t help but notice namjoon’s eyes flicking toward you, his expression unreadable but his demeanor tense.

the moment was shattered when soobin dropped his pencil, its clatter startlingly loud in the quiet classroom. he turned to you with a mischievous glint in his eyes and said, “could you get that for me?” you nodded, bending over to retrieve the pencil. the motion was unavoidably revealing, your short skirt riding up just enough to provide a provocative view. you could feel namjoon’s gaze on you, intense and almost overwhelming. as you picked up the pencil, you glanced up to see soobin’s eyes fixed on you, his gaze deliberate and knowing.

you handed the pencil back to him, who responded with a smirk, “thank you, sweetheart.” namjoon’s eyes narrowed, his jaw tightening as he watched the interaction. his knuckles whitened around the stack of papers in his hand, the sheets crumpling under the pressure of his grip. the sight of soobin’s gaze on you seemed to inflame his irritation, and he struggled to maintain his composure. the tension broke when he suddenly snapped, “pop quiz.”

the sharpness of his command cut through the room, drawing startled gasps from the students. you looked back to see soobin’s smirk widening, a silent acknowledgment of the provocation. you couldn’t help but return his smirk, feeling a mix of amusement and defiance. as he began distributing the quiz papers, the atmosphere in the room shifted. the playful energy between you and soobin contrasted sharply with namjoon’s stern demeanor.

the bell's chime reverberated through the classroom, signaling the end of the period. as students shuffled to their feet, handing in their quizzes with murmurs of relief, you lingered behind, finalizing your answers and tapping the pencil against the paper. you were the last to submit your quiz once again, and as you made your way to the front, you glanced at the clock, calculating how much time you had before your next class.

with your quiz in hand, you approached namjoon's desk, determined to leave the room as quickly as possible. however, as you turned to head for the door, namjoon's voice stopped you in your tracks. “come here,” he commanded, his tone firm yet laden with an undercurrent of something else. your stomach tightened at the sound of his voice. “is everything okay, professor kim?” you asked, your voice steady despite the flutter of anxiety in your chest.

namjoon's posture stiffened, a subtle shift in his demeanor that you noticed immediately. he adjusted himself in his chair, spreading his legs slightly. as you met his gaze, your eyes flickered momentarily to the front of his pants. specifically, the painfully visible tent in his pants that had been rightfully covered by his desk. now, you were able to get a clear view of it and, fuck, was it obvious. the sight was unsettling, a realization that you forced yourself to ignore.

he leaned forward slightly, his eyes fixed on you with an intensity that made your heart race. “did you enjoy the show you put on today?” he asked, his voice low and carrying an edge of challenge. you struggled to maintain composure. “i have no idea what you're talking about,” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady and focused. your gaze danced around the room, avoiding the direction of his gaze.

his expression hardened slightly. without breaking eye contact, he reached for a stapler on his desk and tossed it lightly in front of you. “pick it up for me,” he instructed, his tone carrying a hushed command. you swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his command. his voice seemed to reverberate through you, causing an involuntary clenching in your thighs. you turned around and bent over to retrieve the stapler, your skirt rising above your hips with the motion. the fabric brushed against your legs as you reached for the stapler, the movement eliciting a sharp intake of breath from namjoon.

as you stood up and placed the stapler back on his desk, you tried to keep your gaze forward. namjoon’s eyes followed you, and you could sense the tension in the air thickening. “come here,” he murmured again, his voice softer but still carrying the same underlying authority. you hesitated, fighting the urge to defy him. but the knowledge that resistance was futile made you comply. you approached him, feeling his gaze on you as you moved closer. when you were within arm’s reach, he reached out and drew you gently into his lap, his grip firm yet careful.

you could feel it, the clothed tent in his pants pressing into the bare flesh of your thigh, it sent goosebumps all arouns your skin. his lips brushed against the side of your neck, sending shivers down your spine. “are you happy knowing that the boys are getting off to this ass of yours?” he asked, his voice a dark purr against your skin. you tried to muster a response, a smirk curling on your lips as you said, “yeah, the boys are real nice to me.” the words felt hollow, a weak attempt to mask your discomfort.

namjoon chuckled softly, the sound vibrating against your neck. his hand pressed against you, and you could feel the firmness of his body beneath you. “you don’t need them,” he said, his voice dropping to a deeper, more possessive tone. “you need a man.” your breath caught in your throat, the situation spiraling beyond your control.

his hand slid up to cup your breast, squeezing it gently through your shirt. the fabric was thin, offering no real barrier to his touch. your nipples tightened, and you gasped. “is this what you want?” he murmured, his thumb brushing over the peak. “to be manhandled by some immature college boys?” his other hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling your face towards his. his lips captured yours in a bruising kiss, one that was as much about power as it was passion. your body responded instinctively, arching into him. his tongue pushed into your mouth, and you could taste the mint from his gum, a stark contrast to the earthy scent of his cologne.

his hand moved from your neck to the hem of your shirt, sliding it up to expose your bare skin. his teeth grazed your bottom lip before he pulled away, leaving you panting. “now, let’s see how wet you get when you’re being punished by your professor,” he said, his eyes gleaming with a dark amusement. before you could protest, his hand slid down to cup your sex through your panties, his fingers moving in slow circles. his touch was deliberate, almost cruel in its precision. the fabric of your panties was drenched, and you could feel the heat of your arousal spreading. “you’re so fucking dirty,” he murmured, his voice thick with lust. “gonna pay for teasing me like that.”

his hand withdrew, and before you could react, his palm connected with your ass in a sharp spank. the sting of pain shot through you, but instead of anger, you felt a pulse of desire. the room around you spun, and you bit your lip to stifle a moan. “is that what you wanted?” he asked, his voice mocking. “to be used like this?”

you didn’t answer, but your silence was answer enough. namjoon chuckled again, his hand moving to your other cheek. this time, the spank was harder, and the sound echoed through the empty classroom. you gasped, your legs trembling, but your pussy clenched around his fingers. “yes, professor,” you murmured, the words slipping out despite your attempt to remain defiant.

his hand slid into your panties, his fingers pushing inside you without preamble. you were so wet, so ready, and his touch sent waves of pleasure through your body. his thumb circled your clit, and you moaned, unable to hold back. “that’s it,” he whispered, his voice low and encouraging. “tell me how much you like it when i spank you, and maybe i’ll let you cum on my dick.”

his other hand moved to the zipper of his pants, freeing his thick, hard cock. it sprang out, and you couldn’t help but stare at it, the size of it both terrifying and exhilarating. “you want this, don’t you?” he asked, his voice a gruff challenge. “you wanna be fucked by your professor, right here, where everyone can see?”

you nodded, unable to speak, your body betraying your every thought. namjoon leaned back in his chair, pulling you onto his desk. the cold wood was a shock against your skin, but the heat of his body washed over you as he stepped closer. his pants fell to the floor, and he positioned himself between your legs. “beg for it,” he demanded, his eyes boring into yours. your voice was shaky as you whispered, “please, professor kim, fuck me.” the words were barely out of your mouth when he pushed into you, filling you completely. the sensation was overwhelming, a mix of pain and pleasure that made your vision swim. his hips began to move, a steady, punishing rhythm that had you gripping the edge of the desk for dear life.

each thrust was accompanied by a smack on your ass, the sting mixing with the ache in your pussy. “you’re mine,” he growled, his voice harsh with need. “no one else gets to see you like this, no one else gets to touch you like this.” his words were a blend of assertion and question, and you nodded, your eyes glazed with lust. your silence happened to be a grave mistake, and you realized it the minute he delivered another harsh slap to your ass.

“use your fucking words,” he snarled in your ear, hips pressed against your flesh. you could only whimper, his balls pressed against your soaking slit. but he didn't move, he was gonna make you work for it. “what happens to bad girls?” you gritted your teeth and forced out a whisper, “they get punished, professor kim.”

his hand squeezed your ass hard before delivering another spank, the sting turning into a warm buzz that spread through your body. he chuckled darkly, pleased with your response. “that’s right,” he said, his voice gruff and animalistic. “and what happens when bad girls get punished?” you took a deep breath, trying to keep the tremble from your voice. “they get fucked, professor kim.”

that was all the encouragement he needed. namjoon’s cock slammed into you, the sound of skin slapping against skin punctuating the silence of the classroom. he fucked you hard and fast, his hips pistoning against you with a ferocity that was both terrifying and exhilarating. your legs were shaking, and your knuckles were white from gripping the edge of the desk, but you didn’t care. you were lost in the feeling of him inside you, claiming you in a way that no one else ever had.

his hand moved from your ass to your neck, his fingers wrapping around it in a grip that was tight but not painful. he squeezed slightly, the pressure sending a jolt of arousal through you. his eyes bore into yours, and you could see the hunger in them, the need to dominate and control. “you’re mine, aren’t you?” he said, his voice a low growl.

you nodded, unable to form words. your breath was coming in ragged gasps, and your pussy was clenching around his cock, begging for release. another spank, another squeeze of your neck, and you felt yourself teetering on the edge of climax. “say it,” he demanded, his voice harsh. “say you’re mine, and i’ll let you cum.”

“i’m yours, professor kim,” you choked out, the words a desperate plea.

his grip tightened, and he slammed into you one last time, his cock hitting that perfect spot deep inside you. you screamed as you came, your body shaking with the intensity of your orgasm. namjoon’s eyes never left yours, his expression a mix of triumph and possessiveness. he waited, letting you ride out the waves of pleasure before he began to move again, his thrusts growing faster and more erratic. you could feel his release building, his cock swelling inside you. he was close, and the thought of him filling you up with his cum made your pussy clench even tighter. “fuck, you’re so tight,” he grunted, his voice strained. “i’m gonna fill you up, fuck. i’m gonna mark you as mine.”

you could feel your own orgasm building again, a second wave crashing into you as his words sent a fresh surge of arousal through your body. he leaned over, his teeth scraping along your neck as he reached down to pinch your clit. the combination of pain and pleasure was too much, and you came again, your body shaking violently. he grunted, his hips jerking as he released deep inside you. he held you there, his cock buried to the hilt, his grip on your neck unyielding. “you’re mine now,” he murmured, his voice a mix of satisfaction and possession. “no one else will ever make you feel like this again.”

you couldn’t argue with him, not when his cum was still pulsing inside you, not when his scent was all over your body. you were his, and as much as you hated to admit it, the thought thrilled you. his hand moved from your neck to your hair, his grip gentle as he pulled you closer, kissing you deeply. his tongue invaded your mouth, tasting the remnants of your orgasm, and you kissed him back with a passion that matched his own.

the room was spinning, and your heart was racing, but all you could think about was how much you wanted this to never end. how much you wanted to be claimed by him, over and over again. finally, he pulled away, his cock slipping out of you with a wet sound that seemed to echo through the room. he tucked himself back into his pants, his expression unreadable. “now, get out of here before someone sees you like this,” he said, his voice a harsh whisper.

you nodded, your legs unsteady as you slid off the desk. your panties were a ruined mess, so you left them where they lay. your skirt was hiked up around your waist, and your shirt was askew, but you didn’t bother to fix it. you could feel his cum dripping down your thighs, a sticky reminder of what had just happened. you stumbled out of the classroom, the door clicking shut behind you. the hallway was empty, the only sound the echo of your heels against the tiles. your mind was racing, trying to process the intensity of what had just occurred. you hadn’t meant for it to go that far, but the power dynamics had overtaken you both.

as you made your way to the bathroom, you couldn’t shake the feeling of his eyes on you, his hand on your neck, his cock inside you. your body was still singing with the aftershocks of pleasure, and the sting of his spanks lingered, a sweet reminder of his dominance. once inside the stall, you leaned against the cool metal, trying to catch your breath. your pussy was sore, but the ache was a delicious one, a reminder of his brutal possession. you cleaned up as best as you could, trying to erase the evidence of your transgression. when you stepped out, you took a deep breath, trying to compose yourself.

you checked the mirror, fixing your makeup and smoothing your hair. your eyes were wild, your cheeks flushed. you really looked like you’d just been fucked by your professor, and that thought alone sent a shiver of excitement down your spine. you left the bathroom, heading to your next class, your mind racing with thoughts of namjoon. what had just happened between you? was it a one-time thing, or was this the start of something darker, something more intense? you couldn’t stop thinking about him, his voice, his touch, his cock. the way he’d claimed you, the way you’d begged for it. it was wrong, so wrong, but you craved it.

the rest of the day was a blur, your thoughts consumed by the illicit encounter. when you saw him in the hallways, his eyes would briefly meet yours, a smoldering heat passing between you that no one else could see. the tension was palpable, a silent promise of more to come. by the time you reached the evening, you were on edge, desperate for a release that only he could provide. you knew you had to see him again, to find out where this was going, to let him take you apart and put you back together in whatever twisted way he saw fit.

the next day, namjoon was crueler than ever. the moment you walked into the classroom, you felt the shift in his demeanor, an icy coldness that sent a shiver down your spine. his eyes seemed to follow your every move, sharp and unforgiving, as if waiting for you to slip up.

“miss (l/n),” he drawled, barely five minutes into the lecture, “do you even know what the word ‘competence’ means? because, frankly, i’m starting to doubt it.” his words were laced with venom, each syllable landing like a physical blow. you felt your heart sink, the heat of embarrassment creeping up your neck as all eyes turned to you. your mouth opened to respond, but the words caught in your throat, your voice betraying you in the moment you needed it most.

“answer me,” he demanded, his tone brooking no argument. “i do,” you stammered, your voice barely above a whisper, but it was clear that your confidence had shattered.

he scoffed, a cold, mocking sound that made you flinch. “then perhaps you should start showing it. this is a university, not a daycare. i expect more from my students.” the classroom was silent, the tension thick enough to cut with a knife. you could feel the stares of your classmates, could hear the unspoken judgment in the air, and it made your stomach churn. namjoon’s relentless criticism continued throughout the class, his every word designed to tear you down, to make you feel small and insignificant.

“is that really the best you can do?” he sneered at one point, after you had answered another one of his questions with trembling uncertainty. his eyes narrowed, and you could see the disdain written all over his face. “how disappointing.” your patience was wearing thin, the fragile hold you had on your emotions slipping with each cruel remark. you wanted to scream, to tell him to stop, to ask him why he was being so unbearably harsh. but you couldn’t. the words refused to come, lodged in your throat like a stone.

finally, after what felt like an eternity, the class drew to a close. as soon as namjoon dismissed everyone, you gathered your things and bolted from the room, your vision blurred with unshed tears. you could hear the murmur of voices behind you, the curious whispers of your classmates, but you didn’t care. all you wanted was to get away. you didn’t stop until you reached the empty locker room, the door slamming shut behind you with a deafening echo. the second you were alone, the tears you had been holding back spilled over, your body shaking with the force of your sobs.

“how could he be so bipolar?” you choked out between gasping breaths, your voice thick with hurt and confusion. it was as if he had two completely different personalities, one moment kind and almost gentle, the next vicious and unrelenting. it was too much. the sound of approaching footsteps cut through your thoughts, startling you. you quickly wiped at your eyes, trying in vain to compose yourself, but it was too late. the door creaked open, and soobin stepped inside, his expression filled with concern as he saw you huddled on the floor.

“(y/n)?” he called softly, his voice laced with worry. without waiting for an answer, he hurried over to you, crouching down by your side. “what happened? why are you crying?” you tried to speak, but all that came out was a broken sob. soobin’s face softened, and he reached out to pull you into his arms, his embrace warm and comforting.

“it’s okay,” he murmured, his hand gently rubbing your back in soothing circles. “it’s gonna be okay. just breathe.” for a moment, you let yourself melt into his embrace, the warmth of his arms and the softness of his voice soothing your frazzled nerves. but eventually, you pulled back enough to look up at him, your eyes red and puffy from crying.

“it’s namjoon, you saw it,” you finally managed to say, your voice trembling. “he’s just, he’s being so awful, and i don’t understand why.” soobin’s expression darkened at the mention of namjoon, his jaw clenching slightly, but he quickly masked it with a soft, reassuring smile. “he’s being an ass,” he agreed, his voice firm with conviction. “you don’t deserve that, you need to stop running to him.”

his words struck a chord deep within you, and you nodded, a fresh wave of tears threatening to spill over. “you’re right,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “but i don’t know how to stop.” his gaze softened, and he reached up to gently brush a strand of hair out of your face, his touch tender. “you’ll figure it out,” he said quietly, his tone full of quiet confidence. “and until you do, i’ll be here for you.”

a small, shaky smile tugged at the corners of your lips, the warmth of his words seeping into the cracks that namjoon’s cruelty had left behind. “thank you, soo,” you whispered, your voice thick with gratitude. for a moment, the two of you just sat there, lost in each other’s eyes. then, before you could fully process what was happening, he leaned in and pressed a soft, tentative kiss to your lips.

it was so quick, so unexpected, that you barely had time to react before he was pulling back, his eyes wide with panic. “i’m so sorry,” he stammered, his voice filled with regret. “i didn’t mean to—” but you didn’t let him finish. you reached up, cupping his face in your hands, and kissed him back. this time, it was slower, deeper, a silent reassurance that he hadn’t made a mistake. when you finally pulled away, you could see the relief in soobin’s eyes, and it made your heart swell with affection. “you didn’t make a mistake,” you whispered, your voice still shaky but filled with sincerity.

soobin searched your eyes for a moment, looking for confirmation, before his arms tightened around you. the kiss grew more urgent, his tongue slipping into your mouth, tasting of mint and something uniquely him. your hands roamed over his back, feeling the firm muscles beneath his shirt, and you moaned softly, the heat between you growing with every passing second. the locker room was suddenly too small, too confining, and you needed more.

without breaking the kiss, you reached down and began to unbutton his shirt, feeling the smooth fabric give way beneath your trembling fingers. his hands mirrored yours, his fingertips brushing against the bare skin of your stomach, sending shivers down your spine. as his shirt fell open, you gasped, taking in the sight of his broad chest, the tattoos that danced across his skin like secrets waiting to be uncovered. you ran your fingers over the ink, tracing the lines as you explored him, and he groaned, his hands finding their way to the hem of your shirt.

you pulled back just long enough to let him lift it over your head, tossing it aside without a second thought. your bra followed shortly after, his eyes darkening as he took in the sight of your exposed breasts. without a word, he leaned down and captured one in his mouth, his tongue swirling around the sensitive peak as you arched your back, a gasp escaping your lips. the pleasure was intense, a stark contrast to the pain namjoon’s words had brought you just moments ago. soobin’s touch was gentle, reverent, a stark reminder of the way you deserved to be treated.

his hands cupped your breasts, his thumbs flicking over your nipples as he sucked and bit at them, making you whimper. you could feel yourself growing wetter, the ache between your legs becoming almost unbearable. he must have noticed too, because his hand began to drift lower, slipping under your little skirt and finding your panties already drenched for him. you moaned into his mouth, your legs parting slightly to give him better access.

his fingers slid over the fabric, teasing you, making you squirm with need. then, with a wicked grin, he pulled them aside and plunged two fingers into you, making you gasp. his strokes were slow and deliberate, his eyes never leaving yours as he watched your reactions, learning what made you moan, what made your eyes roll back in pleasure. you clung to him, your nails digging into his back as he brought you closer and closer to the edge.

his other hand reached up to cradle your face, his thumb wiping away the tears that had dried on your cheeks. “you’re so beautiful, (y/n),” he murmured, his voice a low rumble that sent waves of pleasure through your body. “so perfect, so responsive. i want to make you feel good, really good.” and with that, he kissed you again, his tongue delving deep as his fingers picked up the pace, filling you up and stroking that spot inside you that no one else seemed to know existed.

you could feel yourself getting closer, your breath hitching in your chest, your body tightening around his fingers. “soobin,” you moaned, his name a desperate plea on your lips. “yes, baby, come for me,” he whispered, his voice full of desire, and with that, you shattered. your orgasm hit you like a wave, leaving you trembling and gasping for air, your legs giving out beneath you. he caught you, his arms wrapping around your waist as he held you up, his kisses turning gentle and soothing.

as you came down from the high, you became aware of the sound of the locker room door opening and closing, the muffled sounds of someone walking down the hall. soobin’s eyes widened in panic, his hand still buried in your panties, his fingers coated in your arousal. “shit, we can’t get caught,” he hissed, pulling away and hastily buttoning his shirt. you nodded, fumbling to put yourself back together, your heart racing.

you looked around, your eyes landing on a shower stall in the corner, and an idea formed in your mind. “quick, in there,” you urged, pushing him towards it. he looked confused for a moment before understanding dawned, and he grinned, pulling you in after him. the sound of the shower turning on masked the sound of your breathing as you kissed him again, more urgently this time. his hand found its way back to your panties, his touch no longer gentle but demanding, and you could feel his cock, hard and insistent, pressing against your thigh. you reached down to stroke him through his pants, feeling the length and thickness of him, making you even more eager. he groaned into your mouth, his hips bucking against your hand.

his own need was clear, and you knew what you had to do. you sank to your knees, pulling his pants down to reveal his erection, standing proud and thick. without hesitation, you took him into your mouth, your eyes never leaving his as you began to suck. his moans grew louder, his hands tangling in your hair as you worked him with your mouth, eager to bring him the same pleasure he had given you. his taste was new, but familiar in a way that made your stomach flip. you could feel his cock swell even more, and you knew he was close. his grip on your hair tightened, his hips thrusting gently, and you took it as a sign to speed up, to swallow him down deeper. and just as the footsteps grew closer, he came, his release hot and salty on your tongue.

you swallowed, licking him clean as you stood up, your own arousal pulsing between your legs. he pulled you close again, kissing you deeply, his hands roaming over your body. “i want you, (y/n),” he murmured, his voice thick with desire. “i want all of you, right here, right now.” and before you could respond, he was lifting you up, setting you on the bench and peeling your panties off, leaving you bare and exposed.

his cock was still hard, and he positioned himself at your entrance, his tip nudging against your wetness. you could feel the size of him, the way he stretched you open even though he hadn't even slid in yet. you desperately tried not to think about namjoon, to focus on the comfort soobin was offering as a friend. his eyes searched yours for consent, and with a nod, you gave it. he pushed in, slow and gentle, filling you completely. you moaned out his name, the sound echoing off the tiles. it was unlike anything you had ever felt before, his girth stretching you in a way that was both painful and exquisite. he didn't stop, though, continuing to move at a pace that was just right, building the tension until you felt like you might come apart at the seams.

his hands cupped your breasts, squeezing and kneading as he thrust into you, his eyes never leaving yours. you could see the passion in them, the way he was losing himself in the moment, and it made you feel alive, wanted. “you're so wet,” he grunted, his voice strained with effort. “so perfect.”

his words were like a balm to your soul, the praise you had been craving, the gentle touch you hadn't realized you needed. you wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him closer, urging him to go deeper. “yes,” you murmured, your voice a whisper. “yes, fuck, soo.” his rhythm grew more erratic, his breathing ragged, and you knew he was close. your own orgasm was building, the pressure inside you threatening to burst. “you're gonna cum for me,” he panted, his voice low and commanding. “gonna cum so hard.”

his words sent you over the edge, your body convulsing around him as you screamed out his name. he followed shortly after, his release hot and powerful, filling you up without any barrier. the feeling was overwhelming, a mix of pleasure and fear that only added to the intensity of the moment.

as you both came down from the high, panting and trying to catch your breath, you realized what you had done. the comfort sex had turned into something much more intimate, something that would change everything between you. but for now, you pushed those thoughts aside, basking in the warmth of his embrace as the water from the shower washed away the evidence of your shared secret.

his forehead rested against yours, his eyes filled with a tenderness that was new to you. “are you okay?” he asked, his voice gentle. you nodded, your chest heaving with each breath. “yes,” you whispered, feeling a strange mix of emotions. “i'm okay.”

you didn't know how to explain that it was more than just the physical release that had made you feel better. it was the connection, the understanding, the gentle way he had taken care of you when you felt so broken. you knew that this moment would be something you would cherish, something that would sustain you through the storm that was namjoon's cruelty.

but you also knew that you couldn't keep running to soobin every time namjoon hurt you. you had to find a way to stand on your own two feet, to face the demons that were holding you hostage. but for now, in the warmth of the shower, with soobin's arms around you, you allowed yourself to just be. to feel alive and desired, if only for a little while longer.

you could feel the pulse of his cock still inside you, a strangled moan passing your lips as you felt him grow hard inside your pussy, your eyes rolling back at the feeling of him, so lewd and filthy for your cunt, a smirk playing on his face as he began to tilt his hips upward, the overwhelming sensation bringing tears to his eyes. “you really gonna fuck me again?” you practically purred, nails scratching at his chest as his pace began to quicken.

“i have to, you're still dripping for me,” he almost whined, the feeling of your juices drenching his dick just too intense. you pulled him in closer, saving the second blissful sensation of him pulling your cunt apart as he continued to pump his dick into you. you were both unaware of just how loud you were being, as much as you were of the nearby presence, who had been listening to every word with a look of utter anger on his face.

namjoon had been on his way to grab something from his office when he heard the locker room door slam, and the sound of your sobs had drawn him in. he had been torn between leaving and walking in, but his curiosity had gotten the better of him. and now, as he heard the sound of soobin's body slapping against yours, as he heard the two of you gasp and moan, his anger grew. he felt like he had been stabbed in the back, the betrayal a cold, sharp pain in his chest.

his hand was clenched into a fist, and he had to bite his tongue to keep from storming in and tearing the two of you apart. instead, he leaned against the wall, listening as soobin whispered sweet nothings into your ear, as he praised your body and made you feel good about yourself. the irony of the situation was not lost on him; the one person who had been so cruel to you was now being the one to console you in the most intimate way possible.

his mind raced with thoughts of what he should do, but in the end, he decided to stay put. he would let this play out, let soobin have his moment of victory, and then he would deal with it. but for now, he had to listen to the sound of your pleasure, the sound of what he had wanted to be his, being given to someone else. and it made his blood boil.

the following day, tension hung heavy in the air, a storm brewing in namjoon's chest as he awaited your arrival. the echoes of what he overheard between you and soobin replayed in his mind, each word twisting the knife of jealousy deeper into his heart. the anger was sharp, intense, and the moment you stepped into the classroom, he felt his blood begin to boil.

you entered the room with a sense of calm, your steps measured and your expression serene. it was a visible contrast to the way namjoon’s heart raced and his jaw clenched in a desperate attempt to maintain his composure. as the lesson began, he made it his personal mission to nail you into the ground with questions, to strip away that calm exterior and expose whatever emotions lay beneath. “miss (y/n),” he began, his voice cutting through the classroom like a blade, “perhaps you can explain the concept of friedrich nietzsche's ‘übermensch’ to the class?”

the question was pointed, meant to trip you up, to make you falter. but to his astonishment, you didn’t miss a beat.

“the ‘übermensch’ is a concept in nietzsche’s philosophy that refers to someone who has transcended the limitations of conventional morality and societal norms to create and live by their own values,” you replied, your voice steady, almost indifferent. “it’s a cornerstone of his idea of life-affirmation, where one embraces their existence fully and creates meaning in a world that might otherwise seem meaningless.”

namjoon’s eyes narrowed, but he wasn’t done yet. “and what about the eternal recurrence? how does that concept tie into the idea of the ‘übermensch’?”

“the eternal recurrence is the idea that life, in all its events, could potentially repeat itself infinitely,” you answered, still without hesitation. “for nietzsche, the ‘übermensch’ is someone who could embrace this concept, who would live their life in such a way that they’d be willing to relive it over and over again. it’s about living with such purpose and strength that one would welcome even the most painful experiences.” namjoon’s jaw tightened, a muscle in his cheek ticking as he fired question after question at you, trying to find a chink in your armor. but you got all of them right, each answer delivered with precision and clarity. and what made his blood boil even more was that you never once glanced at him. not even for a second.

it was as if he didn’t exist to you, and that realization twisted his gut into knots. the way you didn’t acknowledge his presence felt like a slap in the face. he could feel his anger simmering just beneath the surface, threatening to spill over. but what pushed him closer to the edge was the way you looked at soobin. he noticed it—the way your eyes softened when you glanced at him, the way your lips curved into a genuine smile when you laughed at something he said. the sight made something inside namjoon snap. he could feel the pencil in his hand crack under the pressure of his grip, the wood splintering, but you didn’t even notice.

as the bell rang, signaling the end of class, namjoon watched you closely. everyone else filtered out of the room, but you lingered, packing your things with that same maddening calm. when the last student left, his resolve crumbled. “(y/n),” he called out softly, his voice a mere whisper of the authority it usually held. you paused, glancing up from your bag. “yes, professor kim?”

there was a sting in the formality of your response, a distance that hadn’t been there before. it made his heart constrict painfully. he swallowed hard, trying to steady himself. “please, stop calling me that,” he said, his voice betraying a hint of desperation. you tilted your head slightly, the smallest hint of confusion crossing your features. “but that’s what you asked me to call you,” you replied, your tone even, devoid of the warmth he had once taken for granted.

he felt the sting of his own words being thrown back at him. it was true; he had been the one to demand that distance, to keep you at arm’s length. and now he was paying the price. as you turned to leave, something in him snapped. “i’m sorry,” he blurted out, the words spilling from his lips before he could stop them. you froze, your hand stilling on the strap of your bag. slowly, you turned back to face him. “sorry for what?”

“for everything,” he said, his voice thick with regret. he hesitated, the weight of his confession pressing down on him, but he knew he had to say it. “i fell for you the minute i saw you, you know? you looked so out of place in the club, and it drew me to you. but when i realized you were my student, it pissed me off. it wasn’t supposed to happen like this.” your gaze softened, the hard edges of your expression melting away as you looked at him. “how do you think i felt?” you asked, your voice gentle, understanding.

namjoon sighed, running a hand through his hair in frustration. “i know i’ve been an asshole, (y/n),” he admitted, his voice rough with self-loathing. “but i can’t keep playing this game. it’s tearing me apart.”

you didn’t respond immediately, the silence between you stretching out, heavy with unspoken words. you turned to leave once more, but before you could take another step, namjoon moved. he closed the distance between you in an instant, his arms wrapping around you from behind, pulling you against his chest. “please, don’t go,” he whispered, his voice trembling with the intensity of his emotions.

“namjoon,” you whispered, your voice catching in your throat as you felt the warmth of his body against yours. “you have to stop. you’ll get fired if anyone finds out.”

“i don’t care,” he murmured, his grip tightening as if he was afraid you’d slip away. “i don’t care if it means i get to be with you.”

you stood there, wrapped in his arms, the weight of his words sinking in. It was a dangerous game the two of you were playing, one that could cost him everything. but in that moment, all you could think about was the way his heart beat against your back, strong and steady, grounding you in a world that suddenly felt like it was spinning out of control. as much as you wanted to fight it, as much as you knew the risks, there was a part of you that didn’t want to let go either. the part that had fallen for him too, despite everything, despite the pain and the confusion and the impossibility of it all.

“namjoon,” you whispered again, your voice barely audible, “what are we gonna do?”

he didn’t have an answer, not yet. all he knew was that he couldn’t let you go. not now. not when he had finally admitted the truth to himself. and as you stood there, wrapped in each other’s arms, the world outside the classroom seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in a stolen moment that neither of you was ready to end.

✧.*

a/n: this was soo ass but some sweet soul wanted more joon content so i hope they see this and if they don't like it i will def do another one

[jimincullen]

bangtan long locs ୨ৎ

𝘆𝗼𝗼𝗻𝗴𝗶 𝘃𝗼𝗶𝗰𝗲𝘀:

future's gonna

be okay . . . 💭

who is korea's it boy?

yes, 𝗷𝗶𝗺𝗶𝗻 is unique

and real it boy! ꪆৎ

rainy days I'm thinkin'

'bout you, my lil bear

𝘁𝗮𝗲𝗵𝘆𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗶𝗲 . . . 💭

– this fan account lives

in permanent residence

in dimples of 𝗻𝗮𝗺𝗷𝗼𝗼𝗻'𝘀

cute little cheeks !!! (ᵔᴗᵔ)

𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗴 𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗸: singer, rapper,

composer, main dancer, LV

ambassador, and my sun! ꥟

୭ৎ . . take my hands now

you are the cause of

my euphoria, 𝗷𝘂𝗻𝗴𝗼𝗼!!

me and my 𝘀𝗲𝗼𝗸𝗷𝗶𝗻 loving

the moon together, he is

my lovely astronaut!! ̟˖⭑★

if you use it, like and reblog please ! :)

[tryingtoremembermyname]

kim namjoon my beloved

other members :

yoongi

hoseok

jungkook

taehyung

seokjin

jimin

[cheeseceli]

Namjoon Kisses

He kisses your forehead while you are asleep. It's light enough for you to not wake up, but so full of love that you could smile while dreaming. During those times he would always say how he loves you and how he is lucky to have you in his life. He doesn't think he's ready to tell you that just yet, at least not when you are awake, but he confesses to you every night. He hopes that the way you hug him closer means that you love him too.

Dividers by @cafekitsune

[tvlipsandbread]