#kim Namjoon x male reader

[cinnaminyoons]

ONLY ONES WHO KNOW !!

!!   knj x m!reader

!!   wc | 5.8k

!!   tags | joon/reader are around 30 (implied), drinking, suggestive (reader comes off a little subby, but not as a bottom), reader seduces joon with facts about sea creatures, i don’t know how to write people who hate each other so the relationship is more like annoying x annoyed

[ event masterlist ]

professors of different faculties

seven minutes in heaven

“is that the best you can do?”

kim namjoon, head of the 'historical' aspect of the university's school of philosophical, historical, and international studies, is a terrible man to make an enemy of. his frowns are sharp and his tongue is sharper, lashing at loud talkers during his lectures and idiotic faculty heads alike, and he is never seen without a perfectly-pressed three-piece suit.

despite his severe outfits and hard-to-impress attitude, the passion he has for anthropology resonates in his voice, in his hands, and in his shoulders. his smooth voice grows quick and bouncy when he covers prehistoric art and relates cueva de las manos to the modern family, or even the brief few slides about the denisovan girl. he's usually a patient person, a trait that many of his students can attest to, but when it comes to one man, every notion of it flies out the window with a crash.

you. you. maritime archaeology was your schtick. you did your postgraduate studies overseas, and you could often be found nattering away with your students in their mother tongue. he wanted to dislike you – you, with your messy folded sleeves and lack of a tie – but when you turned to him, all shining eyes and little waves, he could feel the chains of the drawbridge loosen just one notch more.

"he-llo, professor kim."

he doesn't look up, tapping away at his laptop. "seat's taken, yn."

your brow furrows briefly and you glance around, meeting the eyes of a few mutual students who look on with feigned disinterest. you glance back down at him and set your white bowl of katsu curry on the table. "you? waiting on a friend? i thought i was your only one."

you move to sit down, but he grabs his bag and dumps it on the chair beside him – all without looking away from his screen.

"now, that's just unnecessary," you huff. you slide your bowl and drink to the other side of the table and grab a nearby chair. setting it down, you take a smug seat, leaning back in it as you slip the chopsticks out of the crisp paper sleeve.

you snap them apart and crack open the bottle of soft drink. you begin to eat quietly, scrolling through your phone to get a head start on the several thousand emails you have piled up in your inbox. your shirt is open one button lower than usual, and he fights the urge to comment on it. if he knows you – and he does, however unwillingly – you will come in tomorrow with the entire thing undone. he contents himself by glancing occasionally and pursing his lips.

a few minutes of silence pass in relative peace. the small cafeteria sits by the entrance to the law library, and namjoon was, until very recently, dead certain that you wouldn't find him here.

shame on him, doubting your determination.

"you know, i have never seen you eat anything at work."

he drags his gaze upwards, almost an eye roll, but too constrained. he lifts a brow behind thin black spectacles. "is that really so interesting?"

"given that i've known you for eight months and have seriously wondered if you have to plug yourself into a wall socket every night, yes. what do you eat? where do you eat?" you lean forward in open fascination.

he lowers his eyes and shakes his head, returning to his word document. "i won't tell you because if i did, you'd never stop bothering me. i like to have a moment of peace every once in a while, if you couldn't tell."

you gesture vaguely with your spoon and open your mouth to speak, before narrowing your eyes. "are those... new?"

his eyes flicker up again. "what are you talking about?"

"those. your glasses. did you get new ones?"

for a second, he looks so baffled that you can't help but burst into laughter.

"you're too cute," you coo. "of course you got new ones. what am i even asking?"

he wonders if you're fucking with him. these frames are the exact same as the ones he got last time; they should be indistinguishable.

"they look good on you."

you're definitely fucking with him.

he sighs. "thank you," he says warily. "are you going to keep staring at me, or are you going to eat your lunch? it'll go cold."

"don't take it the wrong way. anything noteworthy about your face is immediately negated by that bland suit. have you so much as glanced at a fashion magazine in the last three decades?" propping your chin on your hand, you grin, your eyes glinting. "i'm feasting on your little pout."

he wants to dislike you.

"maybe if you were head of fashion design, i'd listen to you," he replies primly. "but you spend half your time in the water. you reek of sea salt and wouldn't know dressing well if it slapped you in the face."

your mouth falls open and you scoff in exaggerated offence. "whoa! i do dress well. that really hurt, namjoon."

"your belt and your shoes are different colours."

"what are you looking at my belt for?" you ask with a wink and a suggestive grin.

"you've never gone a minute without folding your sleeves, regardless of who you're meeting that day."

"it's part of my roguish charm and attests to my qualifications." you slide them up your arms.

"your hair constantly looks as if you've stepped freshly from a car quickie."

"i hear jealousy," you tease.

namjoon purses his lips, lowering his laptop lid. you lean back in your seat with a triumphant glitter in your eyes.

"admit it," you tell him. "you envy me. i mean, who wouldn't? i know a lot about whale sharks and old ships, still have outstanding student debt, and still look absolutely stunning in a wetsuit."

he forces a smile, and your grin widens as he drops forward on his elbows. he must be particularly short-fused today; it usually takes a lot longer for him to crack. it wasn't even your best attempt.

"keep it in your pants, narcissus. you wear spandex and find things buried in the sand – great. a five-year-old can do that. do you know what a five-year-old can't do? my job."

"what, wax poetic about the enduring essentiality of human love despite the aeons and spanning epochs? i do that every saturday night. nobody pays me for it."

"what would you know about love? you're too busy petting sharks to even look a man in the eye."

"pet a shark when it lays still because it trusts you and say that again. bettie taught me what love is. you read one book and think you know everything – the fool's curse."

"i don't think i know everything," he says, and sounds quite offended. "that's why i keep reading. you, on the other hand, haven't picked up a book in ten years."

"untrue! i pick up books. then i put them down. i'm more of a hands-on learner, actually."

he picks up his laptop and slides it into his messenger bag. "you're an embarrassment to be around. i'm pained just talking to you."

"oh, namjoon, don't be like that. it's all in good fun."

all in good fun for you. he feels like the blood vessels in his brain will rupture if he spends another second in your presence.

as he turns to leave, you call out, "are you coming to the get-together?"

it's really a 'party', but as serious adults with hundreds of peer-reviewed articles published in respectable journals between everyone, there was a unanimous agreement to make it sound as if you'll be doing anything more professional than what a gaggle of twenty-year-olds would do.

he would rather drink himself into a coma by himself. at least his home would be comfortable and warm, and he would be wearing something more suited to a blackout drinking session than a tweed jacket and polished leather shoes.

you're going to be there. he would know it even if he wasn't told; your popularity extends past your students.

"yes, i will be coming."

your grin brightens and the surprised glimmer in your eyes is pleasingly... sparkly.

"really?" you laugh with a hint of disbelief. "well, i'm excited to see you there! the dress code's casual, by the way. that means no ties, cool?"

"i know what casual means," he replies tetchily. he averts his eyes. "but yes, i will go. goodbye, yn."

as he strides away, long legs carrying him easily to his next workshop, you know you must look like an idiot, beaming after a man whose dislike of you is widely documented.

you smile into your curry. this was the first time he said goodbye to you first.

—

"yo, namjoon! you look so good – i didn't even know you had that in your wardrobe!"

"i don't. i killed someone for this shirt."

seokjin squints at him, holding at a distance by his shoulders. "i hope you're joking. that was a joke, right? you really need to work on your delivery. anywho – come on. you're right on time."

soft pop music floats through the large house. it is an inherited estate – seokjin's joked before that he'd never be able to afford it in today's money on a teacher's salary. it looks a lot like a wealthy person's house would – open plan, bright, classic textures and colours – and even has a pool.

in other words, it's the perfect place to host a party.

several faces turn in his direction when seokjin appears in the kitchen, dragging namjoon behind him. they grin and wave, stopping namjoon briefly to make small talk about his clothes, his week, his work. he's forced to move on when seokjin grabs his arm again and brings him around the living room, unnecessarily proud of the fact that he is the first one to host namjoon at a party.

"here, namjoon. wanna play mario kart?" seokjin asks, offering a controller.

with an apologetic smile, namjoon flaps his hands awkwardly. "ah, i haven't played in a long time..."

"oh, that's okay! i can remind you. yoongi! come here!"

yoongi, dark-haired and casual, wanders over, his hands stuffed in the pockets of his silk bomber jacket. he nods at namjoon. "'sup?"

"namjoon doesn't know how to play mario kart, so we're gonna have a quick round to teach him," seokjin explains with a big grin. he waggles the controller in his grip. "you in?"

yoongi considers it. he shrugs and accepts the controller. "sure. but i'll smash you."

seokjin scoffs, following yoongi to the couch. he pats the seat beside him for namjoon. "you wish! there's no one better at mario kart than i am. prepare to have your face crushed into the dirt."

a crowd slowly gathers around the couch as they start up a match on the big flatscreen. there are more people here than namjoon realised; he notices it when they attempt to squish themselves onto the couch or around it.

it feels like living in dorms all over again.

in the middle of the last round, namjoon feels a familiar arm drape around his shoulders. he sighs quietly, ignoring the presence that dips the couch next to him.

"boo," you say. "who's winning?"

several excited shouts of your name ring out, and you smile brightly as people swarm around you and the cookies and the pack of beer you've brought. you hand them out graciously and a good friend of yours, jung hoseok, gives you a solid kiss on the crown, both of his hands holding your head steady like a basketball.

"are you trying to squeeze another drink out of him?" a t.a. accuses with a dramatic flip of her head. "how dare you abuse your networking skills!"

"i don't even like drinking that much," hoseok protests as more people loom on him. "can't i say hi to my bestie?"

"not when you greet him like a european," another jokes, and hoseok gapes in offence. "people already think you're dating!"

"no, they don't," hoseok sniffs, as if it's an idiotic thing to say. "can't a man give his best friend a forehead kiss, live with him, arrive at different times and act like we've been separated for years, and cuddle when we're cold, without being suspected of dating?" he pauses. "oh. i think i'm seeing it."

"you cuddle when you're cold?" yoongi asks blandly.

"yeah," says hoseok. "our entire complex suffers in the winter. bad insulation."

"we cuddle in other situations," you add, and hoseok pats your head fondly. "like right now."

you grab him by the torso and press your cheek against his stomach, grinning as hoseok lets out an undignified yelp. people laugh at his response and mock the noise; one of them does it so well that it causes a new bout of disproportionately-hard laughter.

"you're an embarrassment," hoseok grumbles, pouting as he drapes himself over you.

"funnily enough, that's not the first time i've been called that." you let go of him and hold out the tray of cookies as people return to cheering on the final match. "will you help me with these?"

"yeah, no problem!"

you rise to your feet, chatting with hoseok as you carry the remaining beers into the kitchen, placing them down in the fridge. hoseok laughs at something you say, leaning casually against the bench as he steals a cookie.

namjoon turns back to the game. seokjin boasts his win to a disgruntled yoongi, who came in fourth place once and it turned the tides of their otherwise equal first-place wins. yoongi, for all his huffing and complaining, doesn't seem too bothered, even smiling softly when seokjin does a lap around the couch for a long chain of high-fives like an athlete.

the night goes on with gentle glee. namjoon even starts to drink, nursing a beer covered in condensation. he pinches it by the neck to avoid getting his hands wet.

after one bottle, when he's pleasantly buzzed, he finds himself loosening up, cracking jokes with the rest of them and feeling shy but delighted when people laugh.

the crescent moon floats across the sky. somebody suggests seven minutes in heaven and is immediately booed off of the stage.

they start to play anyway.

when the bowl comes to a stop in front of him, namjoon struggles to find something to represent him. his hands come out of his pockets with a ring of usb flash drives attached to a resin bonsai keychain.

you coo next to him, plucking it out of his hands before he can put it back and dropping it into the mixing bowl next to yours. you are represented by a charm of a tiny, chunky lemon shark – as a yellow lemon. "somebody's a plant dad."

"if you ever visited my office, you'd have realised that five years ago."

you gasp, placing a hand on your chest. "was that a saucy invitation? should we have ramen together?"

"you wish," he retorts. "i'd kiss a spider before you."

"spiders would rather rip off their own legs than get anywhere near you, john keats."

he huffs. "that isn't the insult you think it is, jack sparrow."

"that's 'captain' sparrow. besides," you lean in, nearing his ear with a husky lilt, "it wasn't meant as an insult."

you move away. he stares, and you can feel it boring into the back of your head. you stifle a laugh; you can hear the gears crunching and squeaking.

seokjin props his elbow on namjoon's shoulder, leaning in with a nosy smirk. "what did that handsome man say to put that face on you?"

he whips his head away. "handsome?"

seokjin snorts. "anyone with eyes would agree. but you haven't answered my question. what did yn say?"

"nothing," he scoffs, rubbing his palms on his thighs. "he was just trying to rile me up. what else is new?"

"you two have been bickering since the dawn of time," seokjin chuckles, holding out the bowl as more knick-knacks drop in. "i don't even know why. i think you were at each other's throats before i even arrived in seoul."

"don't say that. i feel ancient."

seokjin pulls an offended expression and pushes him, as if casting an ugly shirt aside. namjoon hides his snicker with a cough. "i'm not old, dingbat! all you whippersnappers could learn a thing or two about manners – especially you humanities kids. nothing is sacred anymore."

namjoon nudges him with a sideways grin. "everyone who says 'dingbat' these days is in a nursing home."

"you will be, after i'm done with you," he threatens, pointing with narrowed eyes. "i'll make sure you won't be able to feed yourself after knocking all your teeth out and crushing your finger bones."

"very good. i won't have to worry about cavities."

seokjin scowls, but nothing in it is serious. he stands up huffily. "i can see why yn has a bone to pick with you. you're completely insufferable."

"it's called humour, old man. i wouldn't expect the farmer to know about the gold."

seokjin stomps away, tossing his head like a regal horse. very pointedly, he takes a seat next to you and offers the bowl to the woman next to him.

everyone hushes each other, watching on in interest. she thrusts her hand forward with a grimace and grabs the first thing she touches, pinching a single 100-won coin between her middle and ring fingers.

a short silence passes.

"a hundred won?" she asks in exaggerated distaste. "i'm worth more than that. whose is this?"

sheepishly, a young man lifts his hand, sandwiched between you and yoongi. he's fresh-faced and anxious but has the characteristic fashion sense of an arts major. he must be seokjin's t.a. – he looks somewhat familiar.

"oh, i'm sorry! here, have it back. this is half your salary."

laughter rings out and the poor young man flushes with embarrassment, giggling behind his hand. you nudge him forward out of his seat and he shuffles after the older woman, who guides them both into the nearest of seokjin's guest rooms – the designated 'smooch closet', as seokjin had put it.

the group plays truth or dare for seven minutes while you wait, with every back-out punished by a single shot of alcohol. eventually, you and namjoon get into an argument so heated that nobody notices the pair sneaking back into the group.

you're so amused by namjoon's stance on tomatoes that you don't recognise seokjin's sneaky smile as he skips over himself and offers the bowl to you. you dip your hand in and seokjin covers your eyes with his palm, making you laugh – you raise his hand to properly cover them, turning your head to the side for good measure.

you rattle around the bowl purposefully, then hook your index finger in a steel ring. you shake it, feeling another slip off, and wrap your fingers around the smooth metal mass. you open your eyes.

a little bonsai tree.

namjoon leans back in his seat. "no fucking way."

it's the first time you've ever heard him cuss – and it's so deadpan, too. no fucking way. it's simply complete and utter refusal.

"am i not attractive enough for you, namjoon?" you pout, and seokjin rolls his eyes with a giggle. "oh, the horror! i don't look enough like fourth-b.c.e. roman glazed pottery! how else can i seduce him into handling me ungloved?"

"we wouldn't wear gloves," namjoon sighs amongst laughter at your antics, "for non-porous artefacts. your field of study is all about finding old things in bad condition. why wouldn't you know this?"

"i handle metal and wood, professor," you chuckle, standing up and offering a hand in a sweeping bow. "we always use gloves. force of habit."

"despite your jokes, i know of several similarities between you and a glazed roman pot," he says drily, standing and ignoring your hand, which drops to your side without much thought. "you are both old, easily broken, and easily replaced."

a devilish grin tugs at your lips. "we are also both very hard and very beautiful. you'd be lucky to touch me."

you wink and whisk him away into the bedroom by the shoulders. it's completely dark within, save for a single lamp on the bedside table. he takes a prompt seat on the bed, smoothing the soft, cool covers and looking very intensely at the clock blinking digital blue on the dresser near the door.

nine thirty-two. he can survive until thirty-nine.

"namjoon," you say tentatively, "you don't... actually dislike me, do you?"

"this is a children's game," he replies curtly. "we don't need to talk."

"yes, well, seven minutes can feel like a long time under the right circumstances." you shrug, turning towards him. you're rather glad that seokjin hadn't shoved you into a closet – it'd be awkward standing chest-to-chest with the man whose entire disposition sours at the sight of you. you rest against the doorframe to the joint bathroom.

namjoon glances at you, leaning back on his palm. the bed dips with his weight. he turns away, the line of his mouth twitching to one side. "well... you're immature, loud, childish, and are too lenient with your students. i heard rumours that your faculty head once believed, quite firmly, that you were sleeping with several of your students, and that was why you were campaigning so hard for their cases."

you straighten, the casual slouch to your shoulders dropping entirely. "what?"

lifting an eyebrow, he asks, "you didn't know?"

"no." your brow furrows. "no one made me aware of this. when was this?"

"four years ago. that head's been replaced now, i know that, but even i heard about it, and i'm not one for staffroom gossip. you really didn't know...?"

you shake your head, rolling your eyes with a huff. "look, these kids are taking out predatory loans just to be a number on a sheet of paper. they're so young – especially my undergrads. some are just seventeen, can you believe that? many of them are working the hours of adults in addition to the hours taken up by draining assignments and part-time jobs. if some of them are struggling more than others, of course i care. what kind of asshole faculty head wants their students to fail and suffer?"

namjoon watches you and the frustrated angle of your brows. "sorry," he says, rather gently, "for bringing it up. i didn't mean it cruelly."

you shake your head with a sigh, placing a hand on your hip as you rest back against the door. "it's alright. it's something i never knew – guess you're a teacher even outside office hours." you quirk a smile, and namjoon huffs half of a laugh, sitting back on the bed until he can swing his leg freely.

"what about me?" namjoon asks, genuine curiosity in his voice. "do you know any rumours of me that i might not know?"

you suck in a breath through your teeth, head tilting as you tap your lips. "oh, that's a hard one. i know a few, but ones you don't know... now, that's a challenge. i'm sure you know all the ones that say you're an intimidating person but the best professor the postgrads have, that you're actually an immortal born in the forties, and that you've never had a technological malfunction because even the machines are afraid of you..." you laugh. "oh, this is actually hard. ah! i think i have one."

"go on. hit me."

"you're actually married. and to a man."

his silence has you worrying your lower lip between your teeth, watching on in anticipation. does he know this one? have you won?

his lips part. "who... the hell thinks that?"

"i've seen a trend in them. the older someone is, the more likely that they're convinced you're married."

"and who are these people? are you including the staff?"

"no, i think it's mostly the students." the corners of your lips twitch upwards. "i heard a few people introduce the idea that you're on the brink of divorce, which explains the lack of a marriage ring and your dour personality. it's actually quite funny."

namjoon kicks his feet, and you hide a chuckle at the sight. he looks like a petulant boy. "i'm not that bad, am i?" he mutters, "a divorcé...? i'm barely thirty."

you chuckle. "you give off the feeling that you'd be married to your job. no time for love, no time for dates. they probably think you've forgotten one too many anniversaries, and the downfall of this hypothetical relationship snowballed from there."

"i'm good at dating!" he retorts defensively. he sighs and falls back on the bed, lacing his fingers over his stomach. "i'm failing whoever thinks that i'm not. i don't care if i get fired. i am not that bad."

"you're kinda bad," you reply sympathetically. "but i will give you this: you are the most organised person i know. you'd never forget an anniversary. seriously – who has more than one paper planner nowadays?"

"i have a lot of things to manage and report on," he snipes, "of course i need three. you can shove off with your funny little laptop calendars. paper never runs out of battery."

"you're aware of how old you sound, right?"

"yes, i am aware."

you laugh again, louder this time, and namjoon's mouth curves up. something flutters deep in his stomach.

you shake your head, still chuckling. "i like this side of you. i feel like i could be friends with this version of kim namjoon."

he shrugs. "there are no versions. i'm just me. i'm somewhat tipsy, which might influence how you view me, but it's not as if i wish to... create a personality for the different aspects of my life."

"it's the clark kent effect." you wander over, taking a seat next to him with an old-man sigh of relief. "actually, why aren't you wearing your glasses?"

 namjoon sighs softly, feeling his heart beat beneath the ridges of his ribs. "i'm wearing contacts. seokjin pestered me into using them tonight. he says i look ten years younger without them."

you nudge his thigh with your knee. "don't listen to him. he's an idiot. your glasses look cute on you."

he turns his head, gazing down his shoulder at you with a quirked smirk. "is that a flirtation, professor ln? how deeply unprofessional."

"we're playing 'seven minutes in heaven' and drinking bud light. i think this entire night is unprofessional." you shift on the bed, laying down next to him. you roll your shoulders, getting comfortable. the dark ceiling surrounds the lamp's round glow. "you know... right now, you sound like you hate me less. is it the change of clothes? some psychological link between wearing tweed and disliking me?"

he makes a face. "i don't hate you. i'd rather not have anything to do with you, yes, but hate? no. hate is far too strong a feeling for me to hold this conversation with you."

"oh." you slide a hand under your head, the other resting over your stomach. "well, in that case... did you know black swallowers are deep-sea fish that can eat prey over twice its length and ten times its mass? their stomachs are highly distensible. most specimens we have were collected dead on the surface of the ocean because their prey were too large to digest. decomposition set in before they could digest it all, and the gases made them float to the surface."

"really?"

"yeah! they're weird-looking fellas. no scales, small and long, and an underbite." you smile to yourself. "i sorta wish i specialised in deep-sea marine bio. piloting those little robot guys with the lasers so often sounds like a lot of fun. sure, you're only really going in one direction, but i love the idea of whale falls. all the activity and life that it sustains around it seems like a cool thing to watch in real-time."

namjoon shifts onto his side, interlacing his fingers and placing his hands below his temple. the woodsy smell of your cologne almost masks the light, breezy scent of the sea that follows you around wherever you go. "tell me more about your favourite fish."

your face lights up, visible even through the darkness. "you serious?"

he nods.

"they aren't fish, but i like boxer crabs a whole lot. i came across them a couple times in shallow waters when i was working on my dissertation. they're about an inch wide, their legs are banded red, and they don't have large claws. their claws are slim and are specially shaped to grab one small stinging anemone in each, which the crab uses to defend itself from predators. they can't feed themselves with these claws, so they use their anemones to grab food particles for them or use them to sting and immobilise prey. they wave them in the water and it's really cute to watch!"

namjoon hums, listening to your rambles. he smiles softly.

"and the anemones they use," you add eagerly, "include some of the most venomous in the red sea. if the little crab loses one of the anemones, it tears the other one in half, and each becomes a new individual. like planarians. i love planarians. yoongi has a tank of sixteen genetically-identical little guys that he just... keeps. they live in his apartment."

namjoon snorts. "are they lab ones? is that even legal?"

"i don’t think so. yoongi's really attached to them – i believe he just took one from the pond on campus in a jar and cloned it a few times. dunno. but he feeds them a bit of boiled egg every day and they seem happy enough, and he keeps me updated, so i think he's a good dad to them – even if they don't know it."

namjoon's gaze traces the outline of your cheek. "what about you, then? do you have a black swallower in a bowl next to your bed?"

you laugh, shuffling around to lie on your stomach. you prop your temple across your knuckles. "no. i do have an aquarium, though. you should come over and see it one day – it really livens up my living room. we watch blackadder together every friday night."

"i'm sensing another flirtation, professor," namjoon murmurs, the corner of his mouth ticking upwards. "as someone who runs his mouth as much as you do, i expected your flirting skills to far outweigh mine. at the moment, it’s quite clumsy and somewhat heavy-handed. is that the best you can do?"

"you got me," you chuckle. "i like talking to you, even if you don't. you've got a... unique sense of humour. i like hearing you argue about how we should really define civilisation. it's enlightening, but the look on your face? it's passion, plain and simple. i also liked your smiles tonight – i never knew you had dimples."

"then you weren't looking hard enough." namjoon quirks a smile. he sighs. "i'm sorry that i come off as so... unapproachable. i simply don't – well – i don't know quite how to interact with you. i've spent a long time with academics who'd like to bury their noses in a library and never speak to another living person again. you were so sociable it was almost frightening. i suppose you could call it a reflex."

"mm, i know the type." your gaze flickers down to his lips; he doesn't miss it. "you look really good in those jeans, namjoon."

"why do my jeans have anything to do with my lips?" he murmurs, watching as you inch closer, lips nearing his. he follows your body naturally, angling his face towards yours as you hover above him.

"you're right. it's got nothing to do with that. i just want to know why you said you wanted nothing to do with me, but you don't seem to mind what we're so close to doing."

his tongue swipes over his lower lip, drawing it between his teeth. "for starters," he begins, "i have a type."

"a type?"

"i like smart idiots. you have a doctorate, which means you're some sort of smart, and you're yet to kiss me, which means you're an idiot. congratulations," he teases. "you're everything i could ever want in a man."

he lifts himself up, cupping the back of your head, and presses his lips to yours in a gentle kiss, somehow deeper than any you've had before. his kisses are slow, almost lazy, and the way he tilts his head and moves his lips against yours carries a hint of a tease, a hint of exasperation. your eyes flutter shut as you cup his wrist, letting yourself fall into his warm embrace.

when you finally part, shivering as his soft, plush lips pepper slow kisses across your jaw and down the side of your neck, it takes a while for you to string together a coherent sentence.

"i didn't take you," you pant, "for such a romantic."

he dimples against your neck, gently nudging you over so that he's the one hovering over you on an elbow. "the only way this could be more romantic is if you took a hard science. art and science pair together so well." he trails his lips down your chest, teasing the buttons of your shirt. "are you in shock, ln? what is it?"

"i'm, uh," you stutter. "you're just – you're being very demanding. oh – uh, th-that's my belt..."

"i know." he smirks, sliding his hands up your sides as he slings his thigh over your lap. "not interested? or just not used to being the one on his back?"

"i am so interested," you breathe, placing your hands on his thighs and squeezing. he's warm like a summer sunset. "oh, fuck. we're snowballing. i'm snowballing. please keep moving your hips like that..."

he laughs softly, and those dimples come out full force. "you're so talkative. but, i don't know what i was expecting – it is you, after all. you are always talking, talking... it's good to hear you shut up for once." he hums, tilting his head. "i like you better like this."

your cheeks are aflame. you never thought he had it in him to speak so freely. you don't know whether to be embarrassed, annoyed, or enamoured – he is, technically, still insulting you.

"n-namjoon, i..."

he silences you with his lips just as the door flies open with a wedge of light and seokjin's voice, announcing that the seven minutes are over. "tell hoseok to stay with a friend for tonight," he murmurs, trailing his fingers down your chest. "i want to see this aquarium you talked about."

[yourmanz-sodapop]

Settling in together

Namjoon x Top! Male reader

Warnings: N/A Part 2/3

“Ok, This couch is perfect” Namjoon must’ve said that about four couches already. “Didn’t you say that about the previous couch?” you asked. “Well yes, but this one feels different than all the other ones. I’m telling you baby this is the one.” he pouts. “You’re sure this is the one baby?” “Yes, this one, let’s buy it.” he says, clapping his hands. He was excited, how could he not be? You gave him complete freedom to decorate your home. So far he had chosen the dresser and nightstand set as well as the curtains for all the rooms of the house and now the couch. 

“Ok, couch set check, next up is… kitchen table.” you see him from the corner of your eye walking off towards the kitchen area, as you're talking to an employee about what you want and how fast you can get it shipped to your house. 

Walking towards the area you last saw Namjoon, you find him sitting at the head of a kitchen table, his eyes narrowing on every empty seat. “What are you doing?” “shhhhh, I’m trying to see if this would match the look I’m going for.” “What look are you going for?” “Right now I’m leaning towards a minimalist vintage look. I think it suits us both, you're an old soul” letting out an amused chuckle you lay your head on top of his, “Anything will be fine, now hurry so we can go look at the paintings you want to hang up.” Say no more Namjoon was up and looking around trying to decide. You knew it would get him to hurry up. 

You need the house finished by next week but it seemed he forgot every other second. You’d made plans to have his parents over to actually see your new home, and to show them with proof that you are serious about their son, before it was just your words and small things you did. They loved you, they loved you just for the fact that you loved their son, that was enough for them but still you wanted to show them that Namjoon would always have a home with you, and that you could provide for him regardless of the fact that he made a shit ton of money from being an idol. I mean you also made a lot of money, you owned a finance company, one that you just branched over to Europe and hopefully soon you’ll add another branch in Korea near where you lived. As you were walking around looking at the different pieces of art, one specific one caught your eye. It was the same one you had in your office back home in America. It brought back a lot of memories.

“When are you coming back to visit?” You couldn’t stand seeing the tears on his face through the screen. “I don’t know, there was a problem with the construction crew, I need to go to Europe to see why they put a hold on it. I’m going to be gone longer than I thought I was, I’m sorry my love.” you explained. You’d already been gone for three months, signing contracts, getting permits overseeing construction for the new branch. “You promised you’d be back before I left on tour. I leave in two weeks.” he sobbed. You know how much it hurt, you haven’t seen each other in three months and now you have to break your promise about sending him off on his tour. You didn't say anything, what could you say to make him feel better? “I have to go” he whispers, “Namjoon, wait-” he hung up.  It was one of the lesser bad moments in your relationship. But it was quickly fixed, you flew out that same night and postponed your meetings to spend the remaining two weeks with Namjoon. 

“Babe!” Turning your head Namjoon was looking at you worriedly. “I called your name five times, are you ok?” He was carrying 6 pieces. “I’m fine baby, is that what you’re getting?” you asked. “Yes these, did you talk to the sales clerk about buying the couches?” “Mhm” “Ok then let's go, we still need to buy kitchen utensils and groceries. I’m not ordering take-out again.” “I’ll cook.”

Getting everything you needed for your new home took longer than you expected it to. Namjoon couldn’t make up his mind on a few things like rugs so you did have to go to a few other places the next day. Thankfully Namjoon found all the things he wanted and was satisfied with the end result of your house, now all you needed to do was wait for the weekend to come.

 You were both enjoying yourselves with this new dynamic of reality, a reality where you both didn’t have to fight your schedules to see each other, nor hide the fact that you were in love. His fanbase took it better than you expected it to, of course there was some negative backlash. Mostly  girls being upset that they wouldn’t have a chance to woo him, rather than the fact that he was with a man. It was a bit of a shock at first  but you got used to seeing your face more on social media.  The boys of course were over all the time now that the place was completely furnished with everything working as it’s supposed to. Now Namjoon understands why you got a three bedroom house.

Next>

[gwiyeounsonyeon]

May Writing Challenge Day 5!

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x Male Reader (INTENDED) Summary: Ferris Wheels are meant for two people. Words: 683/200!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Warnings: Fluff Notes: I wrote this all super early in the morning then i was dragged out by my family

☁︎⋆⁺₊⋆ ☀︎ ⋆⁺₊⋆

♬It had been the perfect night, warm with a nice breeze. The smell of summer, greasy food, and animals from the petting zoo. You stood in line eagerly awaiting your turn on the Ferris Wheel, you had wanted to go all day but everyone you asked said no, you'd just said fuck it and went anyway not wanting your shitty friends to put a damper on your good mood. The closer you got to the front of the line the more eager and albeit a little nervous,

♬You hated roller coasters and fast thrill rides, the Ferris wheel would always be the closest you'd ever let yourself get to riding on a thrill ride. Almost everyone around you was paired up with someone, be it their friend, significant other, or their guardian. Except for one guy, he was with the group directly behind you but you'd noticed he stands off to the side alone while his friends goof off together.

♬Once you get to the front the carnie gets you in the seat before telling you you'd need someone else to ride with you, the guys friends shove him forward with shit-eating grins on their faces, he goes red and fumbles but the carnie gets him into the seat next to you and closes the support bar. Now, this guy wasn't small by any means, he took up most of the seat,

♬Giving you the option to either sit smashed up against the hard metal of the seat or sit smashed up against his hard muscle. You eventually decide to settle in between, not smashing yourself up against any side, he seems polite enough to try and give you more room but he's unsuccessful only causing his face to turn a darker red. The ride jerks to a start, you both can hear his friend's obnoxious laughter in the background as your car gets moved backward.

♬As more and more people get on the two of you are carried further and further upwards until eventually you're sitting at the very top overlooking the entire carnival below you and the small city along the skyline. The view takes your breath away, it's beautiful, all of the lights glittering amongst the dark blue almost black sky. Nearly a minute goes by and you haven't moved,

♬He peeks over the edge and causes your cart to rock forward, you flail and grab onto him tightly not expecting that to happen. once you realized what happened your face heats up and you let go, choosing to instead grip the support bar tightly, he watches you for a second before slowly peeking back over the front down at the bottom.

♬“It just looks like they've stopped it…” His voice is attractively deep and smooth causing you to look up at him, he was really handsome now that you think about it. Unconsciously you survey his face, your eyes ending up on his lips, the both of you go bright red and look away.

♬Your heart pounds in your chest, and out of the corner of your eye you spot his hand inching closer to yours before nudging the sides of your hand with his pinky, your breath catches in your throat as you look up at him, and his eyes settle on your lips before catching your gaze again, you inch closer and he does the same until you can feel his warm breath on your face.

♬You move in to close the gap but the Ferris wheel jerks causing you to jump apart and your car starts falling to the bottom. The carnie apologizes to the two of you saying he thought you were some other couple who'd requested to sit at the top and lets you out of the seat, you go to scramble out and away from the Ferris wheel but he follows and catches your arm, pulling you back to peck you cheek before rushing off back to his friends blushing brightly as they tease him. You look down at your hand to see a number scribbled on the back of a ride ticket.

[male-reader-haven]

⋆꙳•̩̩͙❅*̩̩͙‧͙Stuck In*̩̩͙❆ ͙͛ ˚₊⋆

Christmas Week day 1

Y/N and Namjoon get stuck inside due to a blizzard and find other ways to stay warm ;)

I know it's a bit late, but for the week leading up to Christmas I was hoping to do a short BTS story each day until Sunday, where I would do an ot7 story, so just be patient with me and I will attempt to post 2 stories tomorrow to make up yesterday lol. Anywho, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays everyone, enjoy!

Tags: dom Kim Namjoon x sub male reader, smut

Warnings: 18+, mostly vanilla with a bit of praising and body worship (a beautiful combo, in my opinion), cockwarming

"Well, there is now way I am letting you drive home in this." Your boyfriend Namjoon looks out the window at the blizzard going on outside. The ground and sky are both blinding white and your body shivers as you can only imagine how bone-chilling the wind is currently.

"Yeah, I won't try to stop you." You walk up to Namjoon and rub his back as you both watch outside for a moment. The snow is already about a foot high and you really don't feel like leaving anyways. Namjoon turns to you and smiles.

"Change in plans, then." He cups your face, squishing your cheeks slightly. "Cuddle to keep warm?"

You smile in return and follow him to the sofa. He sits down first, getting a large and fluffy blanket to cover both of you with and turning on the TV to the Christmas movies channel. You sit down next to him and lean into his lap. You are almost glad you aren't able to drive home. Lately with the holidays coming up and everything, you have just been enjoying the fluffy feeling Christmas puts in your chest along with being with the man you love. Looking up, you feel that same warm and fuzzy feeling as you look at Namjoon's expression. Warm, loving eyes and a smile that will never fail to give you butterflies. Tan, pigmented skin and soft expressions that give away his personality. You are absolutely captivated, and hopelessly in love with him. Namjoon notices your eyes on him and looks away from the TV to you, and immediately he smiles and kisses your hand.

"I miss you." He says while pulling you closer to him by your waist.

"I'm with you nearly every day." You laugh and allow yourself to sit up on his lap with him pulling you closer.

"I know, I just, want to be closer." He hugs your middle and nuzzles his head over your shoulder. "You're so warm. It's addicting."

You hold the back of his head and rub his thigh. "You're so adorable, Joon. I adore you." You kiss his neck lightly. Namjoon emits a deep sigh as you do, melting at your touch. He keeps his head on your shoulder while his hands lovingly rub your sides, but as you simply hold each other his hands get lower. You can sense his arousal and play into it by continuing to kiss at his neck. This time Namjoon lets out a subtle moan close to your ear, turning you on even more.

"Mmmm baby, let me touch you." Namjoon purrs, his hands moving along your body gently, yet with purpose, making you crave more.

"I'm all yours, baby." You breathe the words and reciprocate Namjoon's touch by massaging his back and neck. You adjust yourself, moving from cross-legged to straddling his legs and leaning onto his chest, moving your hands over his clothed chest and massaging his pecs.

"D-damn, Y/N..." He relishes your touch. "You know just how to make me crave you." He smiles, sending a wave of warmth through you. God, you love this man. Namjoon puts a hand on your thigh and the other to your face and leans up to place a slow and sensual kiss on your lips. It's tender, and you enjoy the slight taste of Christmas cookie on his lips. While you kiss, Namjoon's hands trail down your chest to lift your shirt over and off your head. He then moves his kiss to your neck, then to your collarbone, and landing on your chest. He peppers your chest with light and soft kisses, making sure he shows you how much he loves you and your perfect body.

"F-fuck, Joon..." You start to grind on Namjoon's lap, arching your back from the shivers his touch sends down your spine. You are both enjoying taking it slow with sensual touch, but your erections are begging to be given attention. You press yourself up against your boyfriend and rest your chin on his chest. You look up at his eyes, sparkling from the Christmas lights and the television in the background. "Can I ride you baby?"

Namjoon smiles and nods. You waste no time in positioning yourself above his lap. You trail your hand from his chest to right above the tent in is pants, unzipping his pants and helping him pull them down. You of course have seen Namjoon naked before, and him you, but you will never stop being amazed at how beautiful he is. And judging from his wide eyes and smile, Namjoon thinks the same for you. He rests his hands on your thighs as you take hold of his member, giving him a few pumps. He moans deep and long moans, leaning his head back and rubbing your thighs. Once you get him lubed up enough, you position yourself above him so that you can lower yourself on him.

"Slowly, baby, don't rush. We have all the time in the world." Namjoon caresses your cheek and kisses you as you slowly lower yourself. You gasp into Namjoon's mouth as he enters you, and Namjoon responds by holding your hips with both of his hands to help you out.

"Y-you're still big for m-me..." You stammer. Namjoon is a big boy, your handsome big boy, and it takes a moment for your body to get used to him.

"Ah, its okay Y/N, take your time." He rubs your hip lovingly. You lower yourself further, wincing slightly but mostly comfortable. Eventally you sit down all the way, feeling warm and full having Namjoon inside you. Your own erection twitches, impatient with your slow pace.

"I-I can't wait anymore Joon, I need to move..." You starts to move your hips, slowly massaging his dick with your insides.

"Ah, fuck, Y/N, just be careful, okay? Fuuuuck..." He leans his head back at the sensation. You continue moving yourself up and down, slowly building speed.

"A-ah, y-you're so fucking hot baby..." You praise Namjoon, admiring his build and beautiful expressions as you ride him. He can't help but smile and blush.

"Y/N, I love you. Fuck, I love you!" He gets slightly louder, getting closer to his peak with every time you go back down. Your pace quickens, now that your body is used to the feel of him inside you, and you repeatedly slam yourself onto him.

"Hnng, Joon, you feel so good, ah, fuuuuuck babyyyyy..." You start losing youself in your ryhthm. Namjoon's grip on your thighs tightens and he starts bucking his hips, thrusting into you as you move so that his dick brushes your prostate repeatedly. "A-AH fuCk- right there Joon, right there! Hnggg-!"

"Haahh, aah, I'm close, Y/N, getting close, you feel so fucking good baby.." Namjoon's movements become rougher and more desperate. "Can I come inside, please baby? Ah, fucking christ, hngaah..."

You nod your head vigorously, your own movements getting desperate and your own dick twitching at the constant sensation of Namjoon's dick on your prostate. "Yes, fuck yes Joonie, fill me up, please, hnnnng, i'm close too, gonna come, gonna fucking come, ah, fuck!" You lean your head back and arch your back in pleasure as one last thrust from Namjoon sends you over the edge, coming all over Namjoon's t-shirt.

"Ngahhh, coming, baby, coming!" Namjoon also goes over the edge, holding your hips down as he releases in your ass. Your spine tingles as the warm sensation of his come fills your insides, spreading warmth throughout your body. You tremble for a moment, then collapse into Namjoon's chest, feeling full and satisfied.

"Mmmmmmm..." You moan into Namjoon's shoulder. He takes off his shirt covered in your come and throws it aside, then puts his arms around you.

"Don't get up babe, I want to stay inside you a little longer. You're so warm and feel so good..." He holds you to his chest.

You smile and look up to kiss Namjoon's cheek. "I'm so glad i'm stuck inside with you." You stay where you are, enjoying the feeling of Namjoon's cock resting in your ass and the closeness the two of you are sharing. You breathe in tandem and cuddle, enjoying each other's warmth and company.

"Y/N?" Namjoon breaks the comfortable silence.

"Yes baby?" You ask without looking up from being nuzzled in his chest.

"I love you."

"I love you more."

"Impossible."

You laugh at his stubbornness. God, you love this man.

"Merry Christmas, Namjoon." You hold him close, and a golden, blissful feeling keeps you both warm the rest of the night.

Send me suggestions on what to write next! ~ <3

--Masterlist--

[namjoonboo]

NAMJOON'S CRUSH . . .

Namjoon x male reader

Warnings: a fluff fanfic (maybe some angst), namjoon crushing on the reader, the reader going to a new school, some timeskips, timeskips to the future, reader becomes an idol in the future, good ending 👀👀

( this takes place in 2006 in Korea )

Everyone wanted to know who was namjoons crush was. Maybe it's one of namjoons friends (Jin, suga, jimin, etc) but they were dead wrong

It was the h/c boy called Y/N. Everytime namjoon saw Y/N he would go crazy. The way your eyes would light up everytime you would talk to someone was giving namjoon butterflies. And the way you would talk when you were tired would make namjoon fall for you more each day. Also the fact that you were taller then him made him for down bad for you. (Your 6'1 or 6'4)

How he met you was at high school. You were transferring to a new school since your mom had to get a new job. So you transferred to namjoons school.

You were scared to go to a new school. Since you had to make friends all over again. And when it was the day you had to go to school, you were hella scared. You also had to get the uniform for your new school.

You were all ready to go. You just ate the breakfast that your mom made you and you were waiting for your dad to get ready and drive you to your new school.

"Its time to go Y/N" your dad called out. You turned around and saw him all ready to drop you off. You grabbed your backpack and unlocked the door for your dad.

Both of you walked to the car. You opened the door and you sitted in the front seat while your dad was driving.

While your dad was driving you to your new school, you couldn't stop shaking. You were just hella scared. You decided to look out of the window and hugged your backpack.

After some time, you finally arrived to school. Your dad said "have fun!!" He said while you opened the door and waved at him and he drove away. You gulped and looked behind you to see your new school. Its pretty big. You thought but it looked really pretty. You already had your new schedule and school started at 7:55 and it was 7:29 right now.

You saw a nearby bench near the school so you decided to sit down.

Then you saw someone come up to you. It a girl. Her hair was pushed to the right and it was a dark color. "Are you new here? I'm kara" she said smiling. You looked up and saw her. "Oh, yeah I'm new here. My name is Y/N."

You looked at her while your eyes was lighting up. You didn't think much about her. She was just a kid that goes to this school. She giggled a little bit. "Do you need help for your schedule?" She said while slowly crossing her arms.

"Nah I think I'll be good." You said with a deeper voice. "Just tell me if you need to" she said and walked away and then waved at you. You waved back not thinking much about it.

Then you checked you time. It was 7:53. "Shit.." you thought. You quickly put on your (favorite colored) backpack on. You run-waked inside the school. 'Wow this place is so big' you thought but you needed to find your first class. 'English class.. room 300..' it said on your schedule. You walked around the school and you finally found the room. The bell already rang so you opened the door.

You saw a room packed full with boys and girls. Everyone was looking at you. Then the teacher looked at you. "Oh! Your the new transfer student everyone was waiting for!" The teacher said. (The teachers gender is up to you)

You gulped and looked at the teacher. They said "everyone this is Y/N!, Y/N take a seat next to Kim Namjoon" she said smiling.

You looked around and saw him. Kim Namjoon. He had black hair and his hair looked soft and smooth. You walked up to your seat next to him and set your backpack next to your chair and then you sat down on your chair.

You noticed that he had dimples. You thought they were. Cute. You looked away from him and payed attention to the teacher.

But for namjoon. He was heating up. He didn't expect you to look so. Good. His English told the class that there would be a new transfer student but he didn't think much about it. But when he actually saw you, he didn't know what to do. Your tan/light/dark skin really looked unique. Also that your h/c looked really good. What he could only do was blush and look away. But when the teacher told him that you were sitting next to him was more crazy.

《 at lunch 》

You were walking to lunch but you heard some foot steps coming to you. You turned around and saw namjoon again. But you also saw his friends with him. "Hey" namjoon said to you. And looked down at him and your eyes lit up. "Hey namjoon" you said looking away. 'He's so handsome' namjoon thought.

"Would you like to sit next to me?"

Namjoon said to you while heating up.

You smiled. And thought about it. 'Fuck it' you thought. "Of course namjoon!!" You said while namjoon looked some red.

You and namjoon walked to a table and you guys talked about a lot of stuff.

You liked talking to namjoon. Maybe too much..

《 timeskip》

After some time, everyone was wondering who was namjoons crush was. Maybe it was jin (seokjin) since namjoon and him talked a lot. Maybe its suga (yoongi), namjoon and suga trust each other a lot.

But they were wrong. It was Y/N, your personality, your smile, your eyes, your skin, your hair. It was everything. You were just amazing.

Namjoon was just so bad for you. But did you feel the same way?.

.....

People were also wondering who was your crush was. Maybe it was the girl called kara. She was cool in your eyes but you never actually liked her.

So who was your crush? It was fucking namjoon. It was so amazing in your eyes. Maybe some people do not like him but you do. He was so cool and so fucking cute.

Everytime he would smile his dimples would show and it would be so cute. His eyes were also really cute. But you wondered his namjoon felt the same...

Y/N and Namjoon were just hopeless romantics.

《 time skip》

"Y/N!!" Namjoon called out. You looked around and saw him. You smiled hopelessly and blushed. He was so cute. You were literally so gay for him.

"Yeah?" You said in a teasing voice. He smiled. "There is something I need to get out of my chest" he said. 'W-what?' You thought. He looked up to you. He went close up to you. Your heart was beating fast. 'I dont think he's going to-' you thought but then he said something that changed everything.

" I like you Y/N.. "

You looked at him shocked. He was about to walked away but you grabbed him by the collar and.... kissed him.

" I like you too, idiot..."

He was crying happy tears. He was hugging was so hard. You also was hugging him hard. You kissed him on the forehead and he kisses you on the cheek.

But they would slowly change. Why? Graduation was coming up and you had to leave to go to japan..

"But how will I contact you?!" Namjoon said slowly crying. You felt so bad for him but you were forced because of your parents. "We can text every day I'm serious!! I promise ok, babe?" You said while tears would slowly come out.

So you and namjoon were long distance dating after graduation.

But when you saw him again.. that would be in a long time...

《 another timeskip 》

( 2014 August 13 )

You were in your studio. You were finishing your song your group was making. You were in a kpop group called "the main 10" (I know its cheesy but trust me.) You were the top 3rd kpop group out there. You were the leader and it was a hard job.

You sighed. Next to your computer was a picture of you and your long distance boyfriend. It was namjoon. He was also a in a kpop group called "BTS" you really liked their music.

You really missed him. You haven't seen him since 2006... God that was such a long time ago...

You still loved him. You never stopped loving him. You never broke your promise. But sometimes he wouldn't text you since it was hard to be in an idol. And you could 100% relate.

You knew he loved you. But sometimes you would be jealous because all of those fans out there. But you always block those thoughts away from your head.

But then you heard your door open. "Are you ok, Y/N?" Haru-San said. She was apart of your kpop group. You looked at her and said. "I just got done with the song, I'm just packing to go home." You said looking at her. You could really trust haru-San. And you had no worries that she had a crush on you since she is a lesbian and she is dating on of the female members in our group.

"Has namjoon texted you?" Haru-san said with a sad expression. "I don't think so... I know that he loves me but I can't tell sometimes.." you said looking away. "I bet he still loves you Y/N, just trust the process you know?" She said slowly laughing. I laughed with her also.

♡

When it was the day to perform the new song you didn't know how to feel. You wished that you could see namjoon right now. "Yo, you alright Y/N?" Andrew-kun said. He was also one of the members. "Yeah just feeling weird.." you said. "Is it namjoon again?" He looked at me with a serious expression while of the ten of us were behind the stage. "Man I just dont know!!" You said looking away. And then you looked at the ground.

When it was time to perform I saw almost 1,000,000 people out there. I gulped and all the ten of us was performing our song. The crowd was going wild as I would hear "MARRY ME Y/N HYUNG!!" Or "I LOVE YOU SO MUCH HARU-SAN!!!"

Sometimes I love my fans.

When we were half way done i got a call. I looked at my phone to see i got a call from.. NAMJOON?? i looked shocked. I decided to answer and I saw his camera on while he said "hey babe" and then he lifted his camera and then I saw it all.. HE WAS AT MY CONCERT,??

"Wait what?!?" I said and everyone could see my expression since all of the cameras was on me. I looked to the crowd and I saw namjoon. I was blushing like crazy.. my boyfriend that I haven't seen in years is finally... HERE??

After the concert I saw him run up to me and hugged me. I didn't know how to feel. I kissed him and he kissed me back. Then he said something...

"Never leave me again, babe..."

made by namjoonboo on December 3rd 2022.

[xavigav]

birthday boy // namjoon x male reader (nsfw)

rating: mature

genre: smut, bottom namjoon

word count: 3.5k

summary: Namjoon's birthday wish is to be fucked hard by his boyfriend, and you're more than happy to give him that.

author's note: this was originally posted on ao3 in 2022 for joon's birthday :)

The moment you first met Kim Namjoon was the moment you had decided September 12th was your favorite day of the year. You love nothing more than seeing your boyfriend of two years now get happy when you shower him with extra affection and kisses and celebrate his special day. But this year, things would be a bit different than usual. In a good way.

When it came to sex, the two of you always kept it slow, something you never had any problem with – you, inside him, taking your time to explore every crevice of his body and bring the both of you pleasure, was always enjoyable. You never felt the need to ask for anything more; things with Namjoon always seemed perfect as they were.

It was Namjoon that brought up the suggestion that had taken root in your mind immediately, something you hadn’t hesitated to agree to. This year, for Namjoon’s birthday, you two would try something new. You’d go rougher, less gently, not holding yourself back from rutting into him as hard as you could like you normally did. 

That’s why today, when you feel the bed beside you sink with the weight of Namjoon resting there on his knees, you’re already more anticipant than you ever were in previous years. Namjoon’s plush lips press against your forehead in a light kiss, and as he pulls away you open your eyes, met by the sight of his ever-gorgeous face and deep dimples. 

“Guess what day it is?” he asks rhetorically.

“Happy birthday, Joon-hyung,” you say, placing your hand gently on his cheek and pulling his face down so that your lips can reach his. They’re as soft and pillowy as always, and you take one into your mouth, nibbling a bit at it. Namjoon makes a pleased noise into your mouth, wrapping one of his hands in your hair, tugging at it lightly just how you like it. 

After a minute, you pull away, slightly out of breath from the kiss. There’s a smirk in Namjoon’s eyes now as he stares down at you.

“You still remember my birthday gift?”

Both of you know the answer already, considering neither of you had been able to stop thinking about it the past few days, but you answer him anyways. “Of course.”

Smile wide, Namjoon moves carefully to position himself on top of you, straddling your hips. Without saying another word, he leans down again, bringing you into another kiss.

It’s only a few moments before he grows impatient with the slow pace, and he licks at the seam of lips, to which you open your mouth against his. With each second the kiss grows sloppier with already-budding arousal, but you can’t bring yourself to care, moving your lips lazily against his as he licks into your mouth, your tongue occasionally meeting his.

Every time he moves his cock rubs against yours, and you feel him growing hard, your own cock twitching in your boxers as the kiss goes on. Determined to rile him up more, you slip a hand under his shirt, roaming around his chest until your fingers finally settle on one of his nipples, and knowing he’s sensitive there, you pinch at it, rubbing your fingers around the bud. A moan of pleasure tumbles from his mouth, his hips thrusting forward, and you gasp into the kiss from the sudden pressure. 

Breathing heavily out of his nose, Namjoon lifts his head back up, dark eyes blown open and mouth agape as he catches his breath. He’s already so needy, wiggling his hips against yours in the search for more, the visual sending a wave of heat straight to your dick. “Baby, please,” he begs, whines, and the desperation in his voice is so clear that you can’t help but tease him just a little.

“What do you want, hyung?” You blink your eyes innocently, cocking your head to one said and raising an eyebrow. You want to hear him say exactly what you know he’s thinking about. He pouts at you, but when you remain unmoving, he finally gives in.

“Fuck me please,” Namjoon says, tone polite despite his desperation and the words actually coming out of his mouth. He gives you his best puppy eyes, the ones he knows you can never resist, and when you give him a nod of approval, he relaxes his limbs, allowing you to manhandle him so that he’s sitting by the headboard now, and you’re right in front of him, closer to the end of the bed.

Namjoon hardly ever wears shirts to bed, much preferring to sleep bare chested, but last night he had put on one of your pajama shirts. You have a suspicion he did it solely for the sake of tempting you, but the reasoning isn’t important to you right now. Instead, you focus on getting that shirt off of him. Eagerly, you pull it over his head in one smooth motion, your eyes widening as they fall upon the absolute privilege of a sight that is Namjoon’s bare torso, muscular pecs sticking out above a toned stomach.

God, all those sessions at the gym really had paid off. 

For a few seconds, you find yourself unable to pull your gaze away from his chest. You’ve seen it a thousand times, but like a sky covered in the vivid colors of a sunset, it’s never become less perfect to you. “Shit, hyung. You’re so beautiful. So pretty,” you mutter. From the corner of your vision you see Namjoon’s face flush pink, and you turn your attention that way.

His cheeks are such a pretty hue that you can’t help leaning forward to place a few pecks on his mouth, and when he smiles, letting out a slight giggle that makes you dizzy from how damn much you love this man, you give one more to each of his dimples.

Less innocently, you reach your hands down again to squeeze at his tits, holding back a groan at the feeling of how full they are in your hands. Savoring the feeling, you let go, only so that you can reach your head down as well, taking one of his perky nipples into your mouth and sucking on it. You let your teeth bite down in a light nibble a few times, living the gasps and pants it earns you.

You figure now is the time to appreciate his chest, considering you’re going to be looking at everything but his torso for a bit, so you switch to his other nipple to give it the same treatment, taking your time to swirl your tongue around, the way he responds to his chest being played with being one of your favorite parts of intimacy between the two of you.

But as your cock grows hard, straining a bit at your boxers, you start to grow impatient, libido spurred on by every noise Namjoon isn’t able to hold in. As you pull away from his chest, he lets out a whine of protest, but the delighted gasp he makes as you finally yank down his underwear signals you’re about to make up for that.

Immediately you latch your hands onto his thighs, loving the feeling of his muscles flexing underneath you, so thick and supple in your hands when you squeeze at them. The eighth wonder of the world, you like to call them, to which Namjoon always laughs, insisting they’re not that great. You disagree.

You’d be perfectly happy to admire his body for the rest of time, but the sudden weight of Namjoon’s hands pushing on your shoulders is just enough to force you back a bit on the bed. You let out a whine of protest, not caring how you sound, just confused as to why you’ve been torn away from the absolute glory that is his legs. Namjoon chuckles, placing his hands on the bottom of your shirt.

“Your turn now, baby,” he purrs, slowly pulling your shirt over your head, doing the same to your pants without a moment’s pause. It’s only after you’re completely bare that he lets his eyes roam around your body, and a smile breaks out on his face like he just can’t help himself, eyes widening the more he looks at you. Launching forwards, he pulls you into a hungry kiss, hands eagerly moving down your chest. When he pulls away, puffing heavily, he breathes out, “Fuck, look so good.”

Your cheeks flush at the compliment – no matter how long it’s been since you two started dating, it’s just as amazing to you each time that this genius, handsome man loves you. Not only that, he thinks you’re the pretty one. You’re not sure which universe you saved in your last life to land yourself here, in this moment, feeling so lucky every single day that you wake up.

But despite all the mushy feelings, you’re still horny as all hell, so you grasp a hand around Namjoon’s cock, almost fully hard already, not that you’re faring much better. The sound he lets out is somewhere between a gasp and a moan, and you savor it, giving a small squeeze just to make him let out more. “You’d look even better stretched around my fingers, hyung. Don’t you think?”

Namjoon’s only answer is a shaky breath as he lays down on his back, spreading his legs apart, knees up, shuffling around a tiny bit to get in a good position, to look enticing. And he succeeds at that second one, his puckered hole so enticing as it’s on display, just for you. Your fingers shake with anticipation as you get the lube that you had left by the nightstand last night, and it takes you a few moments of fumbling with the cap to get it open.

Once you’ve coated your fingers with it, rubbing them together in order to warm it up, it’s hard to wait for it to be a more pleasant temperature when you’re so tantalizingly close to what you want, but you wait anyways, because the last thing you’d ever want is to make Namjoon uncomfortable, or even worse, hurt, when you’re supposed to be making him feel good. Patience isn’t normally a thing you struggle with, but honestly, something about Namjoon’s ass has always made it hard to hold on to your common sense.

When your first finger, lube still slightly cold, slides through his cheeks and pokes at his rim, Namjoon’s breath hitches, but he nods at you, signaling that it’s okay to go further. Your eyes focused on his face and his expression of arousal and anticipation, you push your finger further inside of him slowly. Namjoon lets out a quiet groan.

“Ready for a second one?” you ask, and he nods vigorously.

“Yes, please, I’m re- ah!” Namjoon’s sentence is derailed into a moan as you push another finger in, a bit faster than you did the first one. He wiggles his hips as his body adjusts to the stretch, seeking more movement, and that’s when you start fingering him open in earnest.

Every thrust of your fingers inside of him coaxes out another noise, each one a mix of cute and sexy that manages to make you more horny, your dick growing harder and heavier between your thighs, neglected as you focus all your effort on Namjoon. As lust builds inside of you, you focus on the feeling of Namjoon’s ass, already clenching around your fingers, and you imagine how it would feel around your cock instead, your fingers moving at a more rapid pace as you envision it. This is practically already a wet dream come true – you’re not sure how long you’ll be able to last when it manages to get even better.

“Please, ‘nother one,” he says, words slurring slightly, panting as he looks into your eyes. He unravels even more as you push a third finger in, whimpering while still begging you to go faster, harder. 

Namjoon’s even more worked up than you by now, his lip bitten from his failed attempts to hold in his sounds and his hard cock resting against his stomach, swallowing harshly. He always looks stunning, but especially like this, when he’s so affected and desperate, when you know you’re the cause of his pleasure. His eyes are intense as they’re locked onto yours, but to your surprise, he grabs your arm, and you immediately slow to a stop, worried you’ve gone too far.

“Baby, give it to me,” he rasps out, and relief spreads through you at the same time as the need to be inside him does. “Give me your cock, please.”

This time it’s you who’s desperately nodding. You reach for the condom you had also left on the nightstand alongside the bottle of lube, tearing the packet open and rolling it onto your dick as quickly as you can. As you turn back to get the lube, it’s not there. For a moment, you panic a little, trying to figure out where you might have left it, but the sudden feeling of a hand grabbing your cock, smoothly jerking it, makes you moan. 

Looking down, the bottle is next to Namjoon, cap still not entirely on, and his hands are both coated in a generous layer of lube. One of them is eagerly jerking you off, hasty and messy, more loud moans dropping from your mouth at the feeling of it, the other gently fondling your balls. Heat builds at your navel, and your dick is as hard as it can get.

Namjoon’s practically drooling, hands getting clumsier as they slide along your dick, so it’s not just for your sake when you put a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back. Despite how dazed he is, he seems to understand what you want him to do, scrambling to get onto his hands and knees, sticking his ass out in a way he must know makes you feel feral. His hole, stretched from your fingers and dripping with lube, looks so tempting.

You can’t hold back anymore, and Namjoon doesn’t want you to hold back, so you grab your cock, carefully lining it up with his pink hole and pushing it inside. Centimeter by centimeter, slow even though you want so badly to just jolt your hips forward, you let Namjoon adjust to the stretch as you fill him up. 

When you bottom out, it’s with a long, drawn-out moan. Namjoon’s walls are hot and so, so tight around you. It feels like he was made to take your cock, so perfect and pliant just for you. Normally you prefer missionary, love to see your boyfriend’s beautiful face, but mounting him from behind like this feels good as well, though you’re not sure yet whether it’s the position or just the knowledge that you’re going to fuck him like this, harder than you’ve ever done before.

“Fuck hyung, you’re tight. Always feel so good around me,” you whine, pulling your hips back so that you’re only just barely inside of him before thrusting forward again, and you’ve hardly even started but you’re already afraid you’re going to come too fast. That fear is only exacerbated by the groan that tumbles out of Namjoon’s mouth as your dick nails his prostate.

“Shit, baby,” he cries out, back arching from pleasure. 

You pull out again before ramming back home, relishing it for a moment before you begin thrusting at a faster pace, desperate for the friction of Namjoon’s ass. You keep to a rhythm as best as you can, wanting it to feel good for Namjoon as well, but your brain feels so foggy from need that you’re not entirely sure if you’re succeeding in that goal.

It’s a privilege, really, to be here, with the feeling of Namjoon around you, your balls slapping at his perky ass, the sound of slapping skin punctuating every thrust. You settle your hands onto his waist, gripping it tightly before pulling him backwards to meet your thrust, and Namjoon’s moan is long, drawn-out, and almost enough to make you come already. The added pressure on his back, along with the sudden stimulation on his prostate, makes him fall forward onto the bed, catching himself with his forearms before his face is smushed into the pillow.

The change in position manages to dig you even deeper into him, and it’s everything you’ve ever wanted all at once. “Taking me so well, hyung. Could fuck you all day…just wanna make you feel great…” you babble out, not knowing what to say, because you have too much to say and you’re not sure what the right order is or if you should even be saying anything at all, only knowing that Namjoon’s making you feel so, so good and if you hold everything in you’re going to explode.

White heat builds behind your cock, and it won’t be long now until you orgasm, you can tell, but even the thought of the sweet bliss of coming feels like a downgrade from the luxury that is Namjoon’s tight heat. You want more of him, need it, still craving the feeling of being inside him even as you take and take. Wanting to savor every moment you have left, you intensify your thrusts, hugging Namjoon’s back so you don’t fall forward from the force of it. Sweat pours from both of you, making your hold on him slippery, your hair slick and falling in front of your eyes, but you don’t care about the sticky sensation. 

“Harder! Harder, please, baby, I can take it, need more,” Namjoon cries, begs, turning his head back as far as it will go. Debauched, tears clinging to his eyelashes and plump lips open as pants and tiny moans spill out, he looks too pretty to deny his request, so you use every bit of stamina you can muster to go faster, harder, to give him everything you have. 

The rapid smack of your sensitive balls against him begins to hurt a little, but you couldn’t care less, because focusing on that would require putting less energy towards fucking Namjoon into the sheets, and the arousal and need you feel is stronger than the pain. You’re close, too close for your brain to even think about anything else. Reaching under your bodies, you grasp at Namjoon’s cock, rock-hard and leaking precum as it bobs below his stomach. Frantically, you jerk him off, wanting to make him feel the pleasure he’s giving you.

"Hyung, hyung, hyung-"  you hear yourself whine, sound coming from afar and seeming to echo off the walls, too dazed to do anything but follow the all-consuming instinct to bury yourself as far inside Namjoon as you can, your hand getting steadily sloppier around his dick.

"Fuck, gonna come, don't stop, don't stop-"

A final loud groan escapes him as he orgasms, some cum spurting out onto your hand, the rest undoubtedly covering his chest and the sheets in white. He clenches around you, so impossibly tight and perfect, and finally allows himself to fall onto the bed. A few more thrusts is all you can hold on for before a wave of pleasure pushes you over the edge, and you spill into the condom, still moving until you're done spilling your final load. It's only then that you collapse onto his back, the two of you plastered together by exhaustion and perspiration.

The warmth of his body below is comforting enough that you could probably fall asleep like this, but it’s still the morning of Namjoon’s birthday and the two of you have plans. Reluctantly, you roll over, moaning as your dick (regretfully) slips out of his ass. You’re too spent to actually get off the bed yet, though, so you turn back towards Namjoon, wrapping your arms around him and cuddling him closer.

Drying bodily fluids covering your bodies, you feel disgusting and practically ecstatic at the idea of showering, but you don’t regret a single moment of it. You never would, not with Namjoon. 

“Excited for the art museum later, hyung?” you murmur into his neck, his hands idly playing with your hair. He lets out a breathy giggle.

“I don’t think I’ll be able to walk much there, to be honest,”

“So you’d say the birthday sex was pretty good, then?” you say with a smirk, and Namjoon smiles back at you, so genuine and loving, a sight you’ll never get tired of as long as you live.

“Good’s not strong enough. I’d go with amazing. Or maybe perfect. Marvelous might work too,”

You laugh as he lists every synonym he can think of – which, being Namjoon, is a lot. And you can’t help but agree.

[devine-star]

Kim Namjoon x male reader

Note: sorry for the long hiatus! Im back with Cherry Picking headcannons! Enjoy!

The day was warm but not too warm!

Namjoon woke up with a lot of energy and a craving for something sweet yet tart.

Coming into your office where you were sitting at your desk finishing up some work

He leans over and kisses your head reaching around and closing your laptop

Confused you turn around to look at him and he grins

"Let's go cherry picking!"he exclaims happily

You agree watching as he does a happy little dance before rushing to get ready

The drive there was full of singing and the windows were down with a nice breeze flowing through the car.

Namjoon insisted on paying so you both grab your baskets and rush towards the cherry trees.

"We could make a cherry tart!" You happily say reaching up to grab a gew cherries off the tree

Clapping his hands Namjoon nofs "Yes! That's gonna be so good!"

The two of you continue picking cherries while talking about the things you can make with the fresh charries youre currently picking

"baby!" You turn to see Namjoon holding out a cherry towards you "eat it!"

You look around "is that even allowed?" You chuckle

"Of course! We already paid!" He comes closer sliding an arm around your shoulder before feeding you the tart berry

A few hours later when you two were enjoying the cute and tasty cherry tarts Namjoon shows your his phone

It was a pictures of the two of you!

Fans had captured you two picking cherries and took several cute pictures

You saved several of those pictures to your phone

[stopaskinf]

“The body is the law, and I’m only human after all”

Summary: Namjoon loves you a little too much❤️

Genre: Dark fic, Yandere, Dead Dove do not eat?

CW: Yandere Namjoon, he’s wilding in this. Cursing. Descriptions of bodily harm, organs and blood. Shit gets weird

Word Count: 0.5K

A/N: This is pretty different from what I usually write but fuck it we ball. 🫡🫡

Kim Namjoon is meticulous.

He’s a man who needs to search every nook and cranny before he experiences any satisfaction.

Especially, when it comes to you.

Namjoon cannot learn enough about you.

You’ve been together for years, but it still doesn’t feel like he knows enough.

He knows you’ve had a couple of relationships before him. The first was a 2-year relationship that was ended by you because your ex became emotionally unavailable. The second was a year-and-a-half-long relationship that was ended by your ex because they had “found someone else”. What an absolute cunt.

He knows you have a mole on the nape of your neck that you refuse to get rid of because “It’s a good ice breaker”. You have exactly 5 scars littered around your body. A small one on your right forearm, a thin one on your left cheek, a noticeable one on your right knuckles, an incredibly faded one on your left knee, and a more recent one on the back of your right ankle.

The first three come from childhood accidents. The other two happened because, just like him, you’re clumsy.

Speaking of your childhood, Namjoon hates your parents and siblings.

The fact that there are people who have known you more than him categorically? Unacceptable.

He bubbles in rage knowing that they saw you through each phase of your life. That they saw your first steps, your first words. They saw you through your embarrassing phases and comforted you when you were upset about something you laugh about now.

Nothing eats him up more than second-hand information.

Nonetheless, he begrudgingly accepts it.

He’ll make do with your stretch marks, scars, and stories that you tell him about yourself. Still, he can’t help but imagine knowing you even deeper when he lays on your steady chest in the dark of your shared home.

Your usual 78 bpm slows down to 65 bpm. He can imagine your red blood cells flowing to your aterums and thoracic cavity through your tubes. He can somewhat feel the shape of your ribs and picture your lungs behind them. He still needs more.

He needs to vivisect you. To cut you down from your throat to your genitals. He needs to open your ribs and feel your heart thump in his bare hands. To feel your intestines, so that even if he went blind, he’d still retain the shape.

He wants to open your brain. To caress the folds of it and ask you when and where each one developed. To touch your vocal cords and feel the muscles reverberate as you guide him through your organs.

He wants to rest his head on your exposed heart, to feel the blood pool and clot onto his face. He wants the metallic smell of your blood to suffocate his senses. He needs to feel you so deeply that it stains him.

A boy can dream, can’t he?

[madammidnightsblog]

BTS BUTTPLUG

Warning: sex, buttplug (m&f), public settings, sub idol, dom f!reader, Bang PD (brief), park setting (once), handcuffs, voyeur , fan meet (once)

Namjoon

Namjoon isn't really into buttplugs but he is more than willing to wear one if you ask, there is almost nothing he wouldn't do if you asked. But he feels funny wearing one in the studio with Bang Hitman working alongside him, the toy occasionally humming softly against a sensitive spot if he squirms too much and to make it worse, you were sitting in the same room. Your eyes staring at the back of his head which made his heart pound even more against his chest and he felt himself grow more aroused at the thought of you turning the toy completely up and having him a moaning mess in front of the older man. It really took everything in this man to cover every moan that would slip out and from palming himself through his sweats to somehow make the agonizing pace of the plug to grow more intense and just give his poor dick some friction that it was silently begging for.

"What do you think? Do you think it would work with the chorus or should we move it to the bridge?" Bang questioner as he skimmed over the roughly scribbled idea, wanting the younger man's opinion to organize the chaos that filled the page.

"Uh, well," Namjoon mentally slapped himself for not paying attention but could you blame him? He was in a tough situation and really wanted to work as diligently as he could but the damn plug really made it it hard to prioritize.

Bang notices how confused he looked and took in considering that they were working for about five hours and it was close to two in the morning so he thought he must be tired so he started to pack up, "Don't worry about it. You must be tired so we can finish later after some sleep so get some rest and I'll call around one- thirty." With that, he felt after bidding you goodbye.

You got up and walked over to the panting male as he leans back in his office chair, eyes screwed shirt while his right hand came down to his crotch to gently rub his erection, "You did such a good job baby." You praised as you sat in the chair that the former CEO was seated.

Namjoon whimpered softly as you took out your phone and turned off the plug, "May I cum now?"

You looked up at him surprise. You were sure he silently came a few times but those sucks in breath and squeezing of the arm rest was him holding back? Now that was more amusing. Cocking your head to the side and folded a leg over the other with a smirk, "Why didn't you cum pretty boy? You had about three hours of torture and all the chances to do so."

Namjoon turned his chair toward you, his hands were tugging at the draw strings in anticipation, "Because you never told me to." He whimpers.

"Go head baby. Cum as many times you want, you earned it for being such a good boy for Mommy." With that, he yanked down his sweats and boxers to reveal a twitching and leaking dick.

Jin

"I can't-please-can't!" He cried as his hands yanked at the cuffs, the metal clanking against the chair with every tug.

You sat in front of him, sipping your wine with a pleased smile as you watched as he breaks down in front of you after his third orgasm washed over him, painting his stomach and lap in his release. Something about watching him cry and cum without stopping makes you feel so powerful because of the pretty way he cries and begs and the way his beautiful body shakes with every release, the pearly white liquid painting his golden skin. His moans and cries were heavenly, almost as if he was singing such a beautiful song and the sobs came out like a loud yet sweet chorus that he made specifically just for you and it made your pussy ache. The plug in his ass and the vibrator that was tapped to his dick was the cause of his pleasure and the reason of his uncontrollable orgasms and they weren't stopping anytime soon, not until he said 'sheep'.

"You can take it, you've done it before." You singed before taking another sip, the refreshing taste of Pinot Grigio made you hum.

"Fuck, Mommy, please!" He sobbed, his dick twitched against his abdomen.

You hummed in thought, eyes staring at the glass in your hand and watched how the golden clear liquid that swirled with every soft roll of your wrist. You really didn't need to think about joining your boyfriend but you wanted to make him wait, keeping him on his toes and holding to the desperation which was what you did. Flicking your eyes back at him to see his glossy eyes as they stared into yours before placing your glass on the table next to you before getting up, slowly making your way over to him which had him whimpering for you. The clicking of your heels made his fingers dig into the armrests in attempt to hold what's left of his control and the fact that you were in just heels and one of his button of shirts made his dick ache.

Standing behind the chair, you slowly slid your hands down to his wrists to gently rub at them, "Are you sure you want me to do anything, darling? You seem to have enough fun with those toys." You teased as you eyes the two vibrators.

A sob left his lips, "Y-Yes, touch me, fuck, please."

Hoseok

He isn't the type to act honey in public or even attempt to do anything that remotely resembles a sexual act that isn't dancing so when you asked him to wear a plug and go for a walk at a park, he was quick to turn it down. So when you said you'd wear it instead, he was more nervous about it but didn't mutter a complaint since you were the one to want to do it but he was scared that a child would hear or an elderly person would see how your legs were wobbling and the no so quiet moans and call the cops. Everything was going smoothly, your wobbles were so noticeable and your moans were at a minimum or seen as coughs which did get you two some odd looks but Hoseok didn't care because his mind was occupied with the flashes of you putting the plug in but that was until you held onto his shoulder.

"Fuck." You moaned softly, your free hand was itching to cup your crotch in hopes to touch yourself.

Swallowing dryly, Hoseok did his best to guide you towards an empty and closed off area, "J-Just give me a second." He whispered.

The poor man almost tripped over his feet when he heard you moan his name. He was trying so hard to avoid any issues so you two could be in private but a woman that was jogging by turned around once noticing how you struggled to walk properly thanks to the rising volume of the plug, "Hey, are you ok? Do you need an ambulance?" She questioned while taking out her earbuds.

Shaking your head, you forced a smile which looked borderline lewd, "I'm.. I'm fine. Just got a cramp." You quickly said, trying to avoid slipping out a moan.

The woman eyes him before looked back at you but when Hoseok helped you stand up better, you bud goodbye before you two made your way to the public bathroom. Once inside, he quickly but slowly dragged you to a stall which you were glad he did because you were too overwhelmed with pleasure you were sure you wouldn't be able to walk anymore without someone realizing what was up. You took off your shirt and sat on the edge of the toilet, pulling your legs up to your chest after making sure you wouldn't fall off and told him to hurry. It was hard to keep going without his dick inside of you by know.

Jimin

"I'm so full." He moans as he spreads his cheeks to show off the pretty blue plug in his ass, his white thong pushed to the side.

Biting your lip, you slipped onto the bed while reaching a hand out to rub his erection through the damp material. Soft purrs left his pillowy lips made you shiver in excitement, wanting nothing but to rip the thin fabric off and suck his cute cocklet. With every rub to his small dick, you spewed out filth which had him whimpering and rutting up against your hand which you allowed, loving how needy and desperate he is for you. You were more than happy to make him wait for you until he was a sobbing mess, getting turned on by the way he sobs for you and his big pretty eyes filled with tears that spill down his round cheeks. Tracing his bugle through the material had him shaking and breath hitching, the vibrator purring softly as his velvet walls squeeze around the toy as if it will slip out.

"Such a pretty kitty," you swallowed thickly as you took in his beauty, "And all mine." With that, you yanked the panties off which made him gasp in shock.

You got tired of seeing the thin material already, wanting to see him bare under you and marked so you wasted no time, lifting a leg of his to press a kiss to his ankle and slowly made your way to knee. Lowering yourself slowly, your eyes stared into his glossy ones as you slipped your tongue out and licked a stripe to his inner thigh, licking before pressing sloppy kisses to the soft flesh as his moans came out in soft puffs. Legs spreading further to allow you to lay comfortably between them and placed playful bites to the area before turning your attention to his twitching cocklet once again.

"Want help?"

Biting his lip as he looked away shyly, "Yes, please."

Jungkook

He's bold with anything kink related, believing it will be better if taken risks so the plug was pushed into his hole before a fan meet and he was more than excited. You being a staff member, you were there playing with the remote in your pocket and watching how he would struggle to speak and even sing which did get him concerned looks from the members and fans but it only made you both aroused. Trying to sign an album, he leaned his head onto the table and let out a shaky moan as the toy was turned all the way up, his eyes squeezed closed and jaw going slack which made the fan in front of him worry and Namjoon and Taehyung next to him ask him if he was alright. He was shaking and squeezing the pen as his thighs squeezed together, trying to calm himself down from his high but his mind was just going blank.

"I'm fine, fuck, I just got a cramp." He gasped, shifting slightly in his seat as the toy was turned down to the lowest setting.

He was trying his best to ignore the mess he made in his pants but when you came into view he was whimpering softly, wanting you to hold him and call him your good boy for cumming but you couldn't. Pouting, he quickly scribbled down his signature and got ready for the next fan, ignoring the looks the members and the manager shot him while forcing a smile to the squeaking fan. Every second talking, singing, and chatting with the small span of time with the fans was exhausting since all his entertainment was drained from that orgasm but thankfully it went by quick without the toy going past low so he managed. Once everything was finished, he rushed off the stage and to the nearest bathroom with you in tow and thankfully no one was around the area to stop you from following him into there. Locking the door behind you, you barely got to turn around without him yanking you into his embrace.

"Bunny, calm down. Don't wanting anyone bothering us." You whispered, noses touching from how close you were.

He whined, "Hurry up then Mommy, need a kiss."

With that, you closed the gap by smashing your lips against his which made him moan into the kiss as his hands shot down to his belt and unbuckled it. Hastily, he undid his pants and pushed the down to his ankles while you did the same with yours. Pulling back earned you a whine but you shushed him before pushing him onto the toilet after he dropped his boxers. Knowing you two had to be quick before they started to look for him, you pushed your panties to the side to reveal your sopping cunt which had him moaning at the sight of your slick sticking to the fabric of your panties.

"Be quiet baby." You ordered before hovering over his dick, slowly sinking down onto it with ease.

Taehyung

"Mommy." He moans against your breast, his tongue lazily swirling around your nipple which made you sigh.

Your hand pumping his dick made him whine and moan as your thumb pressed against his utheral hole teasingly. His eyes closed in bliss as he sucked contently at your swollen bud which you were more than happy to see because his flushed face was pressed against your breast cutely. Times like this is why tented windows of the company van was a wonder, letting your cute baby boy suck onto your breast while you have him a handjob, doing your best to match whatever spear the plug in his ass was going. With you in his lap, he was comfortable since your scent and warmth made it better to him and the toy in his ass had him holding you tighter, making it a little difficult to move your hand between both of your legs.

"You are so needy. I spoil you too much, don't I? Taking time out of your schedule to make my prince feel good because he is so needy for his Mommy, hm?" You sighed mindlessly, knowing his mind was somewhere else based how he tried to fuck up into your hand.

His eyebrows furrowed as the pleasure built up, the knot in his stomach slowly coming undone so he squeezed your waist, sucking harsher which made your head press against his as you moaned. Thrusting upwards sent him over the edge, spilling his release onto your hand and his thighs, detaching his lips from your bud to moan out your name. Panting softly, he leaned his head back against the seat while you reached behind you and into the glove compartment to get the wet wipes and cleaned him up while handing him his water bottle. You smiled and praised him while cleaning up the mess and he couldn't help but bury his face into your neck, breathing in your scent as he closed his eyes.

Yoongi

Yoongi would never be caught dead doing anything sexual in public, he wouldn't allow himself to be lewd anywhere that wasn't in the safety of your shared apartment. It would take a lot to convince this man to wear a plug in public for more than twenty minutes out of fear of someone noticing him and try to approach him. He was way too well known for something like that to happen to you decided to make him do it when the members were supposed to come over and have dinner. You were cleaning up the kitchen with Namjoon while Yoongi tried his best to stay quiet on the couch behind the maknae line sat on the floor, playing scrabble while he pressed the couch pillow against his chest in hope to ground himself. It was hard for him, the toy was coming in waves that thudding against his prostate thanks to the larger plug of choice. Having such a hard time, he got up and excused himself to the bedroom, in hopes to lock himself in for a minute and cum.

"I'm going to grab something from the bedroom and I'll meet you on the balcony." You excused yourself which Namjoon happily made his way to the balcony with his beer.

Making your way quietly down the hall, you heard Yoongi's soft moans between the laughs and fight of the younger members which made your heart race. You were itching to touch yourself at the idea of him taking care of his boner with everyone within earshot, it really made your pussy throb knowing if they wanted to they would hear him. Sneaking into the room that he forgot to lock, you watched his he humped the armrest of your chair in front of your makeup table, his pants straining his erection with every rut. Locking the door, you made your way over to the door and stood behind him, holding his waist which made him jolt back to reality and tried to pull away until you stop his to relax. Knowing it was you, he went back to rutting the armrest while letting out louder moans of your name.

"Just like that baby, move with the vibrations." You moaned as you pressed yourself against him.

[frieschan]

QUERENCIA, chapter 3

(n.) where one feels home ; the place where you are your most authentic self

pairing - hybrid! ot7 x bunny hybrid! male! reader

genre - 18+, college au, hybrid au, fluff, eventual angst, eventual smut, humour

summary - you, a rabbit hybrid away from home to study, run into a group of surprisingly friendly and calm (also very attractive) predators who are a pack and live together suddenly run into your life like a bulldozer. the dull days of your life may turn into days of joy and laughter, or will the days turn into gloom and a sad everafter?

warnings (this chapter) - use of curseword, someone blacking out

word count - 2.9k

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You and Jihoon were staying at your apartment. Having a fun little sleepover since her major was kicking her ass at the moment. It was around mid-morning, 9 am. To your absolute shock, The ocelot hybrid has woken up at a normal-ish time. Only bad part was that she suddenly wanted to bake something at your house, together. You didn't have any baking supplies or appliances, mostly finding yourself to be the type to cook instead of bake.

"C'mon! let's go to the mall and shop!"-

"And you're going to pay..?"

"Hell yeah! I got my allowance from my girlfriend!"

"God I feel bad for her...."

"I'm being a good girlfriend ya know!!"

That was how you found yourself at a mall, with an ecstatic Jihoon, excited to spend every dime and dollar she had on creating baked goods. You were sure you’d be the one doing half, if not all the work though. You and Jihoon arrive at the department store of the mall, her already dragging you to the appliances section to buy the needed equipment. You looked at all the mixers, pots, pans, all the baking galore. They all looked as you expect, pretty much perfect and shiny. One of the mixing stands had caught your eye, it looked like any other mixer but it had an adorable rose-gold color. You just felt the need to have it so you approached it, not minding the wild Jihoon behind you that was close to breaking just about everything in the store. You held your breath as you were about to flip the price tag to show you how much it was, quickly releasing it when you realized it was a good price. As you were about to turn around and tell Youngji about it, your words stuck in your throat as you saw a familiar wolf hybrid

“Hey Y/N! Meet my friends, Namjoon and Hoseok!” Jihoon waved you down from the tool section of the store. You gulped down your nerves and walked to them.

“Hey there bun, we met on the metro right?” Namjoon greeted you with a dimpled smile and hand stretched out. “I’m Namjoon, The wolf you met.”

You took his hand with a shy smile and red cheeks. This certainly wasn’t how you were expecting to see the two of them again. “Y/N, if it isn’t obvious enough I’m a bunny” You laughed nervously.

You then looked at his friend next to him, He was near Namjoon’s height. A fox hybrid. He had sharp features, a perfect nose, high cheekbones, and a heart grin on his lips. He was just as handsome as the rest of the guys you’ve met these days. Seeing as you were looking at him, he introduced himself

“I’m Hoseok, but you can call me Hobi!” He greeted with an excited grin plastered on his face. The moment he had your hand, he shook it aggressively with his tail wagging behind him. Honestly, if he wasn’t a fox, he’d be a dog hybrid with how energetic he is. You loved his energy though! He was like the best friend you never knew you needed. He was honestly adorable, another potential for a mate.

“Anyway, what brings you two here!” Jihoon exclaimed, puffing up her chest and pushing out more of her alcohol-smelling scent. You almost forgot Jihoon was an alpha, and that you forgot to stuff your nose and scent glands with scent blockers.

“Well Jihoon, we were out doing errands for a pack member.” Namjoon answered while Hobi was side-eyeing Jihoon, looking her up and down with distaste on his face and his tail swishing behind his back. It was honestly hilarious

“No wonder! I was about to ask why the great Namjoon was in the baking section when he’d burn a damn house down!”

“Oh fuck off Jihoon, you’d set a neighborhood on fire with your skills.” Namjoon retorted with a roll of his eyes, right before bursting out laughing with Hobi. You couldn’t help but chuckle at the antics of the three.

“Since Hobi and Y/N have the most skill out of us, you two can lead the group while me and Namjoon will just be behind the two of you” Jihoon suggested with a grin, quick to push the two of you to the front with a glint in her eye that you couldn’t understand. I mean, this was Jihoon, she was probably just gonna be weird with Namjoon.

You started walking with Hobi, keeping your eyes straight ahead and trying not to embarrass yourself in front of him. You did take a few quick glances at him and he looked so calm, with a lazy smile on his face to reflect his attitude at the moment. You didn’t notice that with your actions at the moment, you were unconsciously pushing out your scent without knowing.

“I like your scent, Y/N” Hobi softly smiled at you, looking back at him with red cheeks. “It makes me feel calm honestly”

“I’m guessing you like the smell of baked goods?” You giggled softly, taking a deep breath before offering him your wrist. He in return, was quite surprised at your action but welcomed it. Hobi didn’t grab your wrist, but instead just softly smelled your scent gland and smiled. He really is a gentleman. You were grateful that he was an alpha that was one of a kind, an alpha that was kind and treated omegas with respect. He pulled away and offered you a thankful heart grin.

“You can take my wrist if you’d like..”

“Oh no it’s alright, just your scent from here is enough. You were kind of pushing it out a bit..” He teased you and laughed, not a mocking laugh but an amused laugh. His laugh was contagious, it was like something that triggered a domino effect to anyone who heard it, you just happened to be one of those people.

“I mean, I’m not the one that likes my scent.” You laughed with him and smacked his arm lightly with a grin that mirrored his. You saw how his tail was wagging around excitedly and shaked with each one of his laughs.

As the two of you laughed, you didn’t notice how Jihoon and Namjoon were somewhat conversing seriously. Their tails still, their gazes were neutral and close to cold. Jihoon’s arms were behind her back while Namjoon’s were crossed.

“You’re interested in courting Y/N to be packmate?” Jihoon said cooly and glared at Namjoon, close to baring her teeth at him. Namjoon simply nodded at her, keeping his stance and showing he isn’t scared of her.

“I’ll have you know, Y/N is my packmember in the pack of my girlfriend and I. You’ll need to get our approval first before you’ll be able to court him. You and your pack better be ready to work for it.”

“We are. My pack and I have already talked about it and we are ready to prove that we are more than capable of taking care of whatever Y/N needs.” 

“Then, we’ll be talking more about this later. When your pack is present and when my girlfriend is present. I’ll talk to Y/N if he’s interested.. And if he’s not..”

Jihoon was quick to move, grabbing Namjoon by his collar even if she was a few inches shorter, the two of them so close together. She made sure to push out more of her scent and to bare her teeth at him. Jihoon was going to show him who had the authority over you between the two of them. Jihoon was also smart enough to make sure the two of you were far enough away so they couldn’t smell the bitterness of her scent currently.

“You better fucking stay away, Namjoon.” Jihoon growled, before dropping his collar and walking away, back to their spot previously behind the two of you. “Good luck, dear pack alpha.” Jihoon mouthed at Namjoon before turning back to you guys and smiling at your interaction with Hobi. Jihoon could see the way you looked at Hobi, the same sparkle in your eye like when you had a boyfriend. Jihoon swore on her life that she will protect you no matter what and no matter what it takes.

“Well, I didn’t know it was already 7 in the afternoon.” You said while glaring at Jihoon, her chuckling nervously in return. “How the hell did we even stay here for 9 hours?!”

Hobi laughed while Namjoon just sighed. “Hobi and I can take you guys home with all the stuff you brought” He offered.

“Are you sure? I live kind of far from the mall.” You said dejectedly, truly you were grateful for the offer, but you were scared to burden the two alphas when you were sure you and Jihoon could find another way home. The alphas were quick to comfort you and pat you on the head, saying that it was more than alright for them to take the both of you home. Little did you know, they had started to smell the rain on your scent which in turn made them worried so they were quick to comfort you.

You watched as the two alphas haul all the stuff into the truck on Hobi’s car, which was a black Porsche Panamera GTS that has Jihoon absolutely awestruck while you were just making silly faces on your reflection that was on the car. The two alphas have succeeded in hauling all the stuff into the trunk, Namjoon’s strength helping well. 

“I’m calling shotgun!” Jihoon said with a grin, before looking at Namjoon with an unreadable expression. It was as if Jihoon was testing him, but you didn’t read too much into the situation. Opting to just get into the car and wait for the rest to also go in.

The car ride was fairly quiet, Jihoon and Hobi occasionally making jokes and talking about how each of them have been, and Jihoon telling Hobi what your address is. You occasionally heard a mention of a ‘Jungkook’ or a ‘Yoongi’ but you were sure it was probably just a coincidence. A lot of people possibly had that name anyway. You decided to just admire the outside, seeing either dozens of trees or dozens of buildings. 

The 4 of you had finally arrived at your apartment. The werewolf and fox quick to get out and bring all the stuff into the lobby and get ready to get on the elevator, you and Jihoon trying to help but the other two were adamant about letting the ladies do minimal work. Now you were in your apartment, organizing all the stuff while Jihoon kept Hobi and Namjoon entertained. You couldn’t hear what they were talking about, but with Jihoon’s chatty nature, you were sure she kept the two of them busy. Just as you finished putting the last piece of equipment into one of your cabinets, you rushed into the living room.

“I apologize if my apartment is a bit small and messy, I didn’t have time to clean it” You smiled apologetically at Hobi and Namjoon. “Jihoon also made a big mess.” Which was followed by a chorus of complaints from the ocelot and laughs from the fox and wolf. 

“Don’t worry about it bun, Hobi and I are about to leave anyway.” Namjoon said dejectedly, wanting to stay a bit more in your apartment. Hobi looked just the same as his pack member. “Namjoon needs to continue doing his nerdy things and I need to rehearse for a dance competition.” 

Your ears had perked up when you heard the word dance from Hobi’s mouth. He did look lean but flexible like a dancer. “Since the both of you are leaving, I’ll give you two my number so we can talk more and maybe hangout next time?” You smiled, hoping they’d accept and that the three of you would grow closer. Namjoon looked at Jihoon with a questioning glance, Jihoon responding with a nod. The two of them jumped up from the couch to copy your number and save it, after that they bid goodbye and left your apartment.

“They were really nice..” You whispered with a big grin, quick to drop onto the couch and giggle like a highschool girl with a crush.

“You like them?” Jihoon asked, looking up at her with a thinking face. You nodded. 

“I don’t know if they like me though, or even if their pack would want me in.” 

“Oh trust me ‘mega, they do like you.” She smiled while patting your head, careful not to brush your ears on accident. “They’re a 7 member pack, with only alphas.” 

You looked at Jihoon, shocked, and confused on why it sounded somewhat familiar.

“Their pack is interested in courting you ‘mega… I trust Namjoon and Hobi enough to let them court you, but Yuna and I need to talk to their pack first. Is that alright?” Jihoon said softly, you looked up at her with the happiest grin and eyes that held a big sparkle.

You jumped up from your position and tackled Jihoon from her spot on the couch, hugging her and squealing about how thankful you were. Then you started getting emotional, tears prickling and about to burst while your lips were shaking.

“Do you think.. Do you think they’ll be better than him? Do you think I’ll finally try love again?” You whispered while hugging Jihoon tight. You could feel her rubbing your back and comforting you to the best of her abilities.

“I know they’ll be better than him ‘mega, he never deserved you.. He was nothing but garbage and you were just too deep in it.” Jihoon comforted you, one hand rubbing your back and the other scratching behind your ear.

“Would you like me to get Yuna to come here and we’ll have a big cuddling sesh while watching netflix?”

“Yes please..”

Right now, you were walking home in the rain from your classes. There were only three classes that lasted around an hour and 10 minutes. You had your headset on, playing some piano instrumentals. Your left hand was holding the umbrella while the right was hugging your shoulder tote close. The rain wasn’t too hard but it was safer to not drive in the weather. The path you were taking was a path that not a lot of people took, not that it was those sketchy alleys, but it was more because it was a residential area that was mostly full of old people. 

As you walked, you noticed a man crouched and hunched over a box, he had an umbrella covering him and the box and he was seemingly trying to grab what was inside. That was until you heard it, you heard the whimpers of a bunny. The moment you heard it, you immediately sped-walk to the same box the man was huddled over, in fear and worry of what was wrong with the bunny.

The man saw you and was worried about what you were about to do, but when he got a glimpse of your rabbit ears, he knew it was better to let you do what you wanted. 

“Oh god, is the bunny alright?”

“I’m not sure, I just saw it out here while walking to the convenience store.”

You started to feel the worry bubble up inside you and you didn’t notice you started lightly thumping your foot. The man looked at you and you looked back. He had plushy lips and slightly chubby cheeks. You could see his leopard ears and his tail curled up underneath him, seemingly trying to avoid the rain. His dark brown and curly hair were a pretty contrast to his brightly colored ears. You then got hit by his scent, it was a smell of toasty wood, indicating he is an alpha.

“I feel like it’d be better if you were the one to take the poor thing home, I don’t think it would like being surrounded by me and my pack. Plus, you are also a rabbit.”

You nodded in response, putting your umbrella in between your armpit and grabbing the box and hugging it to your chest. It had a singular bunny, it was a black bunny that reminded you of your nieces and nephews. The leopard introduced himself as Jin and asked for your number, so he could ask for updates on the bunny and help take care of it. 

“It was nice meeting you Jin and I hope you make it home safely.”

You dictated your number before giving him a thankful smile and walking away, making sure to be cautious with the rabbit. 

After 10 minutes of walking home with the bunny, you arrived home and rushed to get inside your house. Texting Jihoon about the situation and deciding it’d be better if the bunny stayed at theirs instead of your home. Your home was too much of a mess from the wild baking you and Jihoon had been doing from last night while Yuna was watching. Jihoon was quick to arrive at your house, pick up the bunny and give you a nod of good luck. You knew she had a soft spot for bunnies and rabbits alike because her mate and her best friend were both one.

As you sighed and leaned back into the couch, you could feel yourself growing more weak and weak, and it felt like you couldn’t function properly. You tried to get up to get a glass of water, until your vision started to develop black spots and you just dropped.

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TAGLIST - @blehhhidk, @instantnarwhal, @singukieee, @weepyalex, @kaceypdf (just comment or dm to be added in masterlist !!, crossed out are people I couldn't tag)

notes - sorry this took too long! but what do you think will happen to y/n now that he blacked out in his home? with no one to help?!

copyright © 2023 | frieschan

[defmaybe]

Noona from the Bar

IVE's Kim Gaeul x Male Reader

5.2k words

A/N: Ahh, my debut! Thanks to @msafterhours and @i-am-lifeform24 for editing and beta-reading! And thanks to all the kind writers and fellow readers who have been nothing but supportive of me. I know my skills aren’t really up to the task yet (I have a Minji-Haewon 15k draft with broken grammar sitting lol), but I’ll seek my way through it. Thanks for reading!

—

It’s Friday night. The sound of the electronic beats echo throughout the bar, accompanied with the shaking bass. Customers are cramped into small tables, shuffling together to accommodate the enormous crowd. And there you are, sitting in front of the vacant stage, which, to your knowledge, is usually reserved for the band to play, with the Nordic-esque climate sending shivers through your body.

Leehan and Sungho dragged you with a few other guys here after your sophomore finals. You wouldn’t say that it’s a chore, but there are definitely better things to do than get drunk. These two are the most outgoing guys of your diverse group. Meanwhile, you aren’t much of a social butterfly, preferring the more busy student council member life. Sitting in between them, you can only scroll through your phone to pass the time.

“To our grades!” Sungho raises his glass and looks around, inviting you and the other friends to join him.

“To our grades,” you say, barely able to hear your own voice before clinking your glass with others.

You chug half your beer, ready for a long night, your friends laughing as they do the same.

Sungho sighs, putting down his drink, and saying, “Thanks to Seokjin, or we wouldn’t have today, drinking beers and listening to music!”

All eyes on your table turns to Seokjin, the kind, quiet nerd of your group. “It’s nothing really, you’re my friends, and—”

“To Seokjin!” Leehan puts his glass up for another toast, while Seokjin scans around him, seeing all his friends doing the same, smiling. 

“Thanks, guys.” Seokjin says, as he raises his glass for a toast with yours.

—

As the night goes on, the music shows no sign of calming down. NewJeans booms through the speakers, interspersed with remixes of local songs. Alcohol has started to take hold of you, plaguing your inhibition with sharp tingles as you chug your glass away.

“Shit, I have to go to the bathroom,” Leehan suddenly says.

“I’m coming with you,” Namjoon follows. “Anyone else?”

Everyone around the table stands up except for you, and you watch as they shoot you apologetic glances. “Watch the table for us!” Sungho shouts at you, his voice struggling to carry through the loud music. “Use your student committee power to protect this table or whatever.”

“Fine, and I’m only a secretary, by the way. Don’t be gone for too long.” You smile, waving to your friends as they leave one by one. 

“I think Leehan is going to stay there for quite a while. I saw him heaving a bit earlier,” Seokjin sighs, worried.

Your eyes widen. “Well, I’ll wait for you guys here. Take your time,” you assure Seokjin, with him gesturing a thanks with a grateful smile. 

—

On the other side of the bar, another group revels as their finals come to an end.

“Jiwon, pass me the liquor, please,” Gaeul asks.

Jiwon holds the half-full rum bottle. “Gaeul, this is your fourth glass of the night. Are you sure you wanna drink more?”

Gaeul scoffs, voice already slurring. “Yeah, why not?” 

“Well, the last time this happened, I was holding your head above my toilet by the sixth shot,” Yujin adds.

“It will be different this time, come on~” Gaeul pleads, sulking in her chair, matched by her descending tone.

“Fine,” Jiwon huffs, finally passing the rum to Gaeul. “I’m not holding your hair again, though,” she pouts, with Yujin nodding in agreement.

“Thanks!” Gaeul pours the drink into her ice-filled glass before topping the golden liquor with cola. She glances around her table. “I promise, I’ll be the one who holds Wonyoung—,” her stream of thoughts is cut off, as she catches your presence not too far from her, alone, sliding one video after another, gleaming her with flame.

Yujin follows her sight to you. “Well, well, another freshman, huh?” She scoffs.

“Oh, come on, I never get to do this. God, Jiwon brought like three guys to her place in the same month before,” Gaeul deflects.

“Hey!” Jiwon reaches to slap her hand. “You say that like it’s an insult.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to,” Gaeul pouts, making Jiwon roll her eyes, smiling.

“If you want him, then go get him!” Wonyoung adds. “We may not have another chance in our senior year. They are going to kill us with those goddamn projects.” She takes a sip from her glass and contorts her face after that.

“You know men don’t like older women, right?” Gaeul turns her head back onto Wonyoung, who’s still trying to make peace with the content of her glass. “He’d say no.”

Yujin laughs, “That attitude is why you’ve brought no one back to your place!” She pushes Gaeul’s drink into its owner’s hand, pointing at her face. 

“Don’t live to regret this.”

Gaeul taps the table with her fingers rapidly, contemplating her approach. Her friends watch her hesitation with anticipation, until Gaeul retorts, “Alright, fine. If that’ll make you guys happy,” before getting up from her chair and walking towards you, glancing back to see her peers watch the scene unfold from afar.

—

It has been twenty minutes since your friends left. You are caught under the crushing weight of the foreign sounds and solitude among the crowd. Leehan is probably having his face in the toilet. And being the good friend you are, you bring up your phone to text Seokjin to ask about the situation.

Before you hit send, a sound comes from your right, catching your attention.

“Hi!”

You turn to see a woman with short, raven black hair standing before you. Her hand is holding a glass of what your best guess seems to be cola. Her nails are cut short and plain. She’s wearing a black cardigan that somehow shows off her lean curves. Her jeans don't make it even easier for you, leaving you with little to imagine.

“Is this seat taken?” she asks, bending down to hover her glass above Sungho’s seat.

“Hey!” You greet her. “Yeah, it’s taken. I’m sorry about that.” You plant your hand on the vacant chair, inadvertently touching her long fingers, eliciting a giggle from her.

“Shit, sorry! …Again.” You pull your hand back as you feel her warm skin. You can feel a small fire in your cheeks.

Gaeul lifts her glass to cover herself laughing. “Haha, it’s fine. Still, are your friends coming back soon? I’m kinda looking for… company tonight.”

It’s quite rare to find someone approaching you, let alone stating their romantic needs this clearly. Yet, it’s a bar after all; alcohol strips people’s inhibitions off here. And who are you to say no to this beautiful woman?

“Oh, sure! They are probably taking care of my friend in the toilet. Go ahead.” You gesture at her to sit down, as she moves the chair a little to comply.

“I’m Gaeul, by the way.” She offers you a handshake, smiling, to which you happily accept. Unlike yours, her hand is silky soft, 

“Hi, Gaeul. I’m from engineering, civil. What do you study?” You ask.

“Architecture! I’m just beside you, haha,” as she pulls her hand back and placing her glass on your table. The architecture faculty is bordering your engineering main building, and you’ve walked past it often during lunchtime.

“Have I met you before?” You inquire, squinting your eyes on you to examine her shadowed features.

“I don’t think so. I would have remembered you with that face.” Gaeul playfully points at your face, chuckling.

You chuckle along to hide the fact that she’s really influencing you with such an irresistible charm. “Thanks, I guess.”

“What year are you in?” Gaeul asks. “I’ve recently finished my junior finals. I made a lot of home models this year.” She rolls her eyes and sighs while recounting her experience.

“You are a year above me. I’m just a sophomore.” You answer.

“So, I’m your noona, right?” She giggles, tapping your shoulder softly with her finger.

“Yes, Gaeul noona,” you pout, placing your hands on your thighs.

Gaeul giggles, “No need, haha. Just Gaeul is fine, really.”

“Alright, Gaeul.” You smile along with her.

The night with Gaeul advances, while you quickly forget about your friends taking care of Leehan. You learn about her aspirations of being an architect, and how she also hates drawing to death. 

“And you want to become an architect?” you ask, baffled in such contradiction.

“Yeah, haha, I’ve always loved elegant buildings, and I really want to create them myself as I grow up.” Gaeul smiles, gladly sharing her wishes. 

She continues, “But when it comes to drawing, I’ve always had the feeling of having to perfect them. And that eats up a lot of my energy, really.”

“So, you’re a perfectionist?” you continue to shoot questions at her, giggling.

Gaeul laughs. “You can say that.”

She then tells you about the pets at her home, as she learns about your ambitions. And you feel like the conversation is sparking everywhere; it flows like the alcohol in your blood, suppressing your shyness just for her.

—

“Yeah! I just got my driver’s license a few months ago.” The clock strikes almost ten, over half an hour after your first words with her, and the topic is lingering on driving at the moment.

Gaeul takes a deep breath before gaining the courage to ask. “Hey, do you want to go back to my place?”

“Really?” you ask.

“Yeah, talking in here doesn’t give us much privacy.” Gaeul seems to be going all-in here.

Unable to bother yourself under these waves of songs you can’t sing along to anymore, you answer in a quickfire, “Sure! Where do you live, though?”

Gaeul points her thumb behind her, towards the outside. “Just across this bar. I usually have my friends crashing for the night if they can’t walk to their dorms.”

“Lead the way, then.”

—

“Well, show’s over, girls,” Jiwon huffs, seeing Gaeul guiding you out of the bar. “It’s the three of us now. Anyone you guys are eyeing on?”

Yujin and Wonyoung shrug. “Let’s just enjoy the rest of the night first,” Wonyoung says.

“Yeah.” Yujin adds and signals a toast, as Jiwon and Wonyoung join her.

—

Gaeul unlocks the door to her room before leading you inside. Her room is pretty tidy, aside from the lump of unfolded clothes on her bed on the left, covered by brown bedsheets. She has a few stuffed animals sitting at the top of it: some Care Bears, a cylinder piggy doll, with Shaun the Sheep gracefully sitting in the middle, and a few more aquatic animals.

“I’m saving up my money to buy my fifth Care Bear,” Gaeul says with a smile, determination sparks in her eyes.

On the opposite side, there’s a drawing table with a few sketches of buildings, showcasing her architecture works. You close the door and lock it for her.

Noticing the mess, she darts toward the bed. “It’s a little messy, sorry,” she says, picking up the pile before cramming it inside her closet. “I didn’t have time to take care of it when I was coming out.”

“I don’t mind, really.” You smile, understanding her struggle of doing laundry.

Gaeul smiles back as she shuts her closet door. “Where were we again?” she leans against it, giving you a questioning look.

“I—,” you pause, further taking in the atmosphere of her room. You find a few movie posters on her wall above the bed: Thirteen, Little Women, and After Hours are the ones standing out. She also has her Jubilee vinyl on display just by her table.

“So, you like Japanese Breakfast?” you ask, before she follows your gaze onto the album. You’ve never expected someone you find at a bar to listen to Michelle Zauner’s band, to be honest.

“Yeah, it was my sister’s before she moved out,” Gaeul answers. “But the album itself is pretty good. I pick it up now and then to let it loop while I’m drawing.”

“I’ve heard about its quality.” You tap your fingers on your thighs, eyes darting everywhere except onto her.

Gaeul taps her chin in a staccato rhythm; she seems as unsure of her next action as you do. The humming of the air conditioner lulls from behind her. She ponders for a while, before stepping towards you.

“You know the implications, right?”

And that’s it; the way she says ‘right’ tingles you in a peculiar way. Gaeul looks into your eyes as she does, eliciting an indescribable feeling inside you. Your hands shake as she closes her distance to the point where you can feel her breathing.

“May I?” she asks, lips just inches away from yours.

“S—sure,” you stutter out in front of this gorgeous woman.

Without further ado, Gaeul kisses you ardently. Her tongue doesn’t let your mouth simply rest on hers, as she invades your cavern to display the passion she has been holding. She cups your cheeks so that she can taste you more thoroughly. You moan at such a confident act right into her mouth, before you let your tongue wrestle with hers.

As the kiss deepens, Gaeul draws her hand down your neck, and you shudder in response. “Fuck, noona,” you utter through the connected lips. Your hands cup her face, letting her take control. And without initiation from you, her fingers sliding down your abdomen seem to invite you to engage with her under the same depravity. Yet, your hands linger on her facial features.

Soon, Gaeul’s hand works its way to your crotch, stroking your erect length through the pants. “Wow, all excited for me, huh?” she says, suppressed under the kiss, and you moan through the gaps, having your shaft fondled.

Gaeul breaks off from the torrid act, but her lips leave just a little distance from yours. However, it’s far enough to keep you wanting her more. She lifts her arms to wrap around your neck. “I want to ask you something.” She says in a whisper while looking into your eyes; her deep voice shakes you.

“Go ahead.”

Gaeul clicks her tongue a few times, glancing at the wall before asking. 

“Are you comfortable calling me noona again? I know I told you back in the bar to drop it, but seeing you being all obedient because of me is a bit of a…” She bites her lip as if to resist the inevitable. “…turn on.” She grins, unsure, not even believing the words coming out of her mouth.

You chuckle before answering without another hesitation. “Sure, Gaeul noona.”

Gaeul smiles. “Alright, baby boy.” She slides her hands down to work on your top button. “Let’s go to our main course.”

You quickly unbutton your shirt upward to meet her trembling hands. And quickly, your shirt is up for Gaeul to toss it away into the void. She runs her right hand down your chest. “You take care of yourself well, don’t you?” As her fingers tap on your flat stomach, hitching your breath.

“C—Cardio from time to time, noona.” You stutter out; fuck, this woman is burning your skin.

“Good for you.” She says in a deep tone, while her right hand is still feeling your midriff.

“Now, leaving you like this wouldn’t be… fair, right? Bare for me to—” The next word cut short for her to plant her lips on your nipple, tasting your body and eliciting a moan from you.

“Noona…” You are now lost in the pleasure; jolts after jolts from her lips rush through your body, making you shudder. Her saliva coats your nipple, and you lock your hand behind your noona’s head to keep yourself from falling over.

Gaeul keeps switching her suction on your peaks before she pushes you onto her bed. “I was talking about fairness, right?” She says with her fingers tilting your head down on your chin a little to meet her eyes. Her legs are straddling yours, keeping you in place.

“Y—Yes, noona,” you speak out.

“So, since you are half naked… under me.” She traces a line down your abdomen, igniting a fire in its wake. “You get to choose which half of me… that you want to see.”

You gulp, eyes wide. Fuck, this woman is really having her way with you now, and there’s nothing you can do to resist her seductive endeavor. Your mind goes into overdrive with the choices: top or bottom, top or bottom, top or—

“Every second counts, my baby boy.” Gaeul taps her bare wrist, grinning.

You swallow another gulp. “Your pick, n—noona.”

Gaeul giggles. “Well, since I’m a believer in justice…” She moves her hands to the top button of her black cardigan, ready to unlock it. “Say please, baby,” she says with her sultry voice.

“Please, noona.” You succumb to her domination. As Gaeul unlocks the first button, putting her soft cleavage into view.

“Please what, baby boy?” She continues her seduction; her hands are toying with the second button now. She pulls the neckline down to reveal the strings of her bra and the full view of the valley between her mounds.

“Please take your top off, noona,” you plead.

Giggling, “Alright, baby boy.” Gaeul quickly unbuttons the remaining locks, as her unending tease also seems to affect herself. Her toned midriff quickly reveals itself to you, decorated by the sky blue laced bra above, sending you further into a spiral.

Slowly, she strips herself off of her cardigan, your tongue becomes drawn to the thin string that holds two sides of the chest cover together. You can taste the hints of her salty sweat absorbed by the cloth.

“Fuck,” Gaeul whimpers. “S—So needy, aren’t you?” She tosses the outer garment away before pressing your head onto her. Being pushed even more, you map a straight line up the hollow of her chest with your tongue, causing her to moan out.

“Alright, I—I get it, you’re a—a tits person,” Gaeul cries out, quickly retreating her hands to unclasp the back of her remaining top attire. “This doesn’t mean y—you have p—power over me or anything, though.”

“Yes, noona,” you say through your licks, her bra falls off right between you two. As you pull yourself back to take a break from your appetizer, you are given the heavenly sight of her succulent tits. They are small, but you’ve never been the one to care, anyway. Her nipples are already erect, aroused as she expects the divine rapture from no one but you.

“You like the view, baby boy?” Gaeul chuckles at the sight of you salivating in front of her perky mounds. 

As an answer, you dive in to savor her excited brown nubs. There’s no particular taste to them, yet you’re being commanded by these peaks to satisfy her overflowing lust, making her a writhing mess right before you.

“God, fuck!” Gaeul moans out. You remain fixated on her tits, sucking on them as if your life is hanging on the strings of her cries. And to further stimulate her, you use your hand to caress the freed side of her frame. You roam from her shoulder to the waistline, squeezing her chest with each passing.

Gaeul, again, presses you onto her soft chest, yet she’s unable to let herself being satisfied just on the outside anymore.

“F—Fuck, shall we go to the m—main course, baby boy?” her words come out ragged; she can’t further shackle herself from the peak of intimacy.

You remove yourself from her nubs. “Yes, please, noona.” Gaeul pushes you down onto her bed, signaling you to unzip your pants while she does so. And within a blink, your erect cock and her soaked cunt are just a breath away from each other. She seems to be an all-natural girl too, choosing to let her hair grow above the canal, and that just makes her even more mouthwatering.

Still, the sex education lessons hold you back on the ground. “Do you need protection?” you ask, concerned about the prospect of unwanted consequences.

“I have my contingency plans, baby,” she huffs with a smile as she hovers her sex just above your shaft now, ready for the ride of her life.

With no words, you nod, and she slowly sinks herself onto your rod. You cry out as your tip gradually disappears into her. You pull your head back under the overwhelming sensations. “Fuck,” and you can do nothing but whimper.

“D—Do I feel good on top of you?” Gaeul asks, voice and her body shuddering in the descent. You are halfway inside her now. Her hands are roaming on your writhing frame, determined to push you off the edge even faster.

“Yes, fuck, noona. You feel so fucking good.” You’re enamored by the throes of pleasure surrounding your body. She slowly impales herself down to the hilt, fully coating your cock with her nectar.

“Fuck!” Gaeul’s tone becomes a scream now. She bends herself back, showing her fragile frame. Traces of ribs are visible under the room light, and her immaculate chest stretches for you to view.

Gaeul remains in the position for a while, before she drags her wet cunt off of you, just barely seeing your tip, grazing your dick with such an unbearable pleasure. Your length now glistens with her honey, but the shackling gratification lets you register only her up and down motion. And as she slams down, you can do nothing but moan under such divine elation.

Wet squelches and moans echo throughout the room, as Gaeul picks up her pace to quicken this perversion. She cries out in every movement, and you echo out every moan. Her short hair becomes really helpful in situations like this, since, with each bounce, they don’t seem to cover her face as much as it should. And you’re one lucky man to see her all invested in the depravity - every contorted face, every line drawn on your abdomen with her hands, and God, how her moan is a symphony you’ll remember for the rest of your life.

Inevitably, with each of her bounce, it drives you toward the precipice. Her angelic moans and the bouncing chest ramp you up closer to paradise. The sight of her riding you - mouth agape, perky tits bouncing, hands shuffling her strands to make sense of the pleasure, creating such an immaculate image - with the sensations around your cock is just unyielding.

“N—Noona, I’m gonna cum, slow down,” you plead, and Gaeul looks down at you, hands still locked in her olive hair. Her breaths become ragged, and her whimpers seem to scale up with each insertion.

“Me too, baby boy, me too,” Gaeul cries out. “Cum with me.” 

She keeps the moderate tempo she has been putting on you. Her bare, untrimmed, drenched cunt rams your cock with steady speed to keep your orgasms alight. Sounds of fleshes crashing into each other; an unyielding amount of Gaeul’s honey is mixing with the notes that come out of her gorgeous lips, creating a concoction that sends you into ecstasy.

And with one last thrust, along with you, Gaeul becomes a squirming wreck. With eyes fluttering, delectable chest heaving, wailing such a symphony that only a deity can sing. Her entire frame shakes with exaltation. You cry from the depths of your lungs, and the knot in your stomach becomes undone. Your cock shoots spurts of cum inside her, as Gaeul’s delicate cunt gushes out torrents of clear juice onto your crotch.

With each twitch of your length, they serve the purpose of unloading into her womb to the brim, and they shake you to sing out such a beautiful melody, joining Gaeul into composing an amorous masterpiece. Your nectar finds its way out to concoct with hers, pooling on your crotch. It’s a breathtaking sight, seeing her undone like this - juice spilled, wails unrestrained, walls contracting to drain you dry.

Gaeul’s climax subsides; her moans show signs of her normal voice again. “G–Good job, baby boy,” she chuckles through her whimpers. Her pace decreases, and you’re thankful that she doesn’t ride your consciousness out.

“You’re getting sensitive, right?” She brings her motion to a stop, but still enveloping your length within her needy core. It’s warm; she’s warm.

“Yeah, noona. You can–,” you stop halfway for a few breathers. “You can stay like this, to be honest.”

“Oh, my poor baby boy~,” Gaeul laughs. “We can stay like this if you really want it.” Her voice still carries hints of intoxication, yet you can’t deny that the potential of it being genuine affection entices you. “I’ll have to go to the bathroom first, though. I can’t sleep with our cum being everywhere like this.”

She bends down to give you a peck on your forehead, before slowly, agonizingly, pulling herself off of you. And doesn’t that make you whimper out, as your cock is still sensitive from shooting spurts of your seed inside her dainty cunt? The feeling of unloading still lingers in your filthy mind.

Maybe it’s a mix of all the sensations you’ve ever felt - mostly pleasure with pain. You moan out as she chuckles at the sight of you crumbling under her final touch. “Alright, baby boy, wanna take a shower?” Gaeul gets up from the bed before sauntering towards the bathroom. “Maybe we can have another round~,” she winks across her shoulder, before going into the shower.

“I’ll be there, noona,” you reply, as you collect your inhibition enough to take another shot of intimacy with her under the running water.

—

Sunlight peeks through the curtains, waking you up after the rough night, naked. Last night’s debauchery remains clear in your head, as the images of Gaeul commanding you around are still in high definition. You look around the room to catch your noona examining the contents of her fridge, bending over to show you her bare, plump ass, only slightly covered by her baby blue shirt.

“Up already, sleepyhead?” She notices you through the gap between her arm and the single garment on her. “I have some banana cake left, not expired yet,” she says before picking it up and surveys the package. “Yeah, a day left. You want one?”

“How much is it? Can you send me your QR code after this, noona?” The memory of you acting all-obedient shows up again, and you can only cover your mouth after that. 

“No need, ‘baby boy’,” Gaeul chuckles, pulling up an air quote, mocking the tone she used last night. “Consider this as part of the one-night plan.”

God, she looks flawless under this morning’s light. The way her short hair is messy; the tired eyes, and that pair of legs - the pair you wish to be caught between - makes you want to spend another day with her. 

“Can I extend my subscription?” you utter out involuntarily. The alcohol hasn’t returned your reticence yet, perhaps.

Gaeul considers your proposal for a while, nibbling her chin with her free hand, while tapping her feet with the cake still in the other hand. 

“Well, I’m not sure, really,” she says. “I have only known you for barely half a day, with the help of alcohol.”

“I know, Gaeul,” you groan. “But like, I want to know you more.”

“I don’t know.” She chuckles as she closes the distance between you two. 

Gaeul continues her interrogation, “do you, really?” Her bare, untrimmed pussy comes in at your face level. She changes her motion to crossing her legs forward, slowly, covering the lower part of her sex as she gets right in front of your eyes.

You drool at the sight, tranced, as your morning wood is twitching. Your tongue involuntarily sticks out, aimed at her nub, and you are magnetized to her cunt again. You are so ready to please your noona again, making her a drenched disarray before you, before Gaeul breaks your train of desire, grabbing your chin and tilting your head up to watch her smile.

“Alright, I believe you now.” She simpers with your tongue still out. “I’ll give you my Instagram before you leave.”

You sign an okay to her, as you retreat your tongue back into your mouth.

“Good boy,” Gaeul laughs. “Here, your breakfast.”

You take the banana cake from her. “Thanks, noona.”

“I’ll give you more than this the next time, if you can make me fancy you.” She lets go of you before climbing onto her bed to the other side, giving you a view of her luscious cheeks once more. She bends down to pick up your discarded, now-creased clothes, involuntarily (or not) putting her sex into display, and you can do nothing but let your length twitch at the sight.

You gulp at the sight, mustering the courage to ask out, “Really?”

She sits back up after her teasing act, legs crossed, but you can still see flashes of her. Gaeul ponders for a while, tapping her chin in the same veins she did before the explicit scene of you two.

“Definitely, maybe.” She laughs again, shooting the garments at you, and you can only join along with her.

—

As you walk back to your dorm, your phone suddenly rings. You pick up the phone, eyes widen. It’s Sungho, the ‘friend’ you left with no trace for him last night.

“Shit.” You utter before accepting the call.

“Where the fuck have you been last night, bro?” His breath is coming in shorts. “We were worried about you. We came back around ten—”

“I was with a woman; her room is just across the bar. I’m fine, Sungho,” you reply.

“Oh.” Sungho pauses. “Oh damn. Wow.” He’s left speechless for a few seconds.

“Yeah, and we—, uh—” You stop, contemplating on whether to tell him.

“No need, bro.” You can hear Sungho chuckling through your phone. “Who’s the lucky woman who takes your virginity, huh?”

“Architecture,” you play coy, withholding Gaeul’s identity. “And we trade each other’s contact just this morning.”

“Goddamn, you had been inside her, and you just asked for her contact after that? Fucking hell, man.” Sungho laughs again. “Well, we’re happy that you didn’t lose an arm or anything, bro.”

You smile before remembering about your sick friend. “Oh, what about Leehan? How’s he now?”

“Fine, he’s still sleeping on my bed,” Sungho affirms. 

You smile, and reply, “Alright, good, thanks for calling.”

“No problem, see ya!” Sungho says.

“See ya.” And you hang up the phone.

On the way back, the prospect of building your relationship with Gaeul reels in your mind. The probability of you two working remains shaky. Emotions might take hold of only one of you, dragging its victim into an unbearable sorrow. What if a crush turns into a craving? Either way, the shared moment of your bodies clashing into each other is going to be etched into you, and, hopefully, her.

And as you unlock the door, a notification pops up on your phone, and it reads as:

actualgaeul started following you.

—

[oddinary4bts]

Emotions of the Soul | knj

☆summary: when Namjoon reappears in your life after thirteen years of absence, you find yourself unsure of what he means to you, and of what you mean to him. Anxiety reigns over you, but will it be enough to drag you away from Kim Namjoon?

☆pairing: Kim Namjoon x artist female reader

☆rating: 18+ (minors DNI)

☆genre: childhood/teenage lovers to strangers to lovers, idol!au, smut, angst, fluff

☆warnings: alcohol, anxiety, a reference to the reader in Now We Reign if you guys can catch it, cursing, stupid teenage threats of m*rder, an appearance from the reader in Forever, pet names, paparazzi, imposter syndrome, an ugly teenage breakup flashback, explicit content: mentions of blindfolding, switch!Namjoon, big dick!Namjoon, switch!reader, oral sex (male and female receiving), jerking off, dirty talking?, balls fondling, face riding, breast play, fingering, protected sex, praise, hair pulling (ish), ass slapping, tummy bulge (? lmao), choking, cumshot, cum eating, unprotected sex, he calls OC a slut once or twice I think

☆word count: 36.3k

☆a/n: Oof I don't know why but writing this was so so hard?? I'm happy I finally managed to finish it tho! It delves into the subject of anxiety and its effects on people, so it's a little heavy, but I hope you'll still enjoy it <3 As always, thank you to @moonleeai​ for her incredible work as my beta reader! You’re the best <3

☆Read the other installments in the Life Goes On series here!

☆☆☆☆☆

The music in the gallery was loud. It probably fitted a club better than an art exhibit, the upbeat melody having more than one person dancing and nodding their head to it. The atmosphere was warm, stuffy, even though the front doors had been left open in the hopes of getting the fresh November air in. It failed majestically, and you were sweating in your too-tight dress by the refreshment table in a corner, watching over the crowd.

You had never seen so many people in your gallery before. Had never thought your art would attract that amount of people, but it seemed the art enthusiasts of Seoul had flocked to your gallery tonight, looking to experience the art of a new talent firsthand.

At least that was what the journalists were saying, even though you had been an artist since you were a middle schooler. Fingers always stained with ink, teachers scolding you for never paying attention…

Middle school had seen your love for art blossom the way azaleas blossom after a long winter. With bright petals, vivid with life, though your art had first been the colour of the darkest nights. It had taken you years before you had incorporated colours into it, and now you were proud to see the myriad of shades painted on your pieces.

You sighed, and you reckoned maybe the mask you were wearing was the reason why you felt so stuffy. But you weren’t going to risk being recognized – no, you liked enjoying your exhibits in the anonymity of an art enthusiast. Rare were those who knew who the artist actually was, and you felt like it was the best way to have actual feedback on your art.

No one coated their words with sugar when they spoke with just another art enthusiast. So tonight, you wore the mask of the artist, the one people knew you for. It preserved your identity but also allowed people to know who the artist was when they had to. Like tonight, considering that it was the opening of your newest exhibit, The Colours of Fall.

You ordered a glass of apple-flavoured soju mixed with beer, bowing your head in thanks at the employee behind the table when they offered it to you. When you turned back around, your eyes trailed to the wall of windows on one side of the room. Though some pieces were hung there, with spotlights behind the windows to create shadows into the pieces, you still were able to see the black Sedan that was parking outside.

Paparazzi outside started flashing their cameras as someone walked out, and all you could see from where you were was a mop of black hair. More than one celebrity was in attendance tonight, so you didn’t pay attention to the person arriving more than necessary, instead focusing on the exhibit once more.

It was going well. Far better than you had first imagined it would. You had already sold numerous pieces, and your brain was running a mile a minute with ideas of what you could replace them with.

Your mask only hid the top part of your face, so you easily took a sip of your drink, inadvertently bobbing your head to the music. It was good music, it really was, but you couldn’t wait for the actual playlist you had chosen to begin.

Which wasn’t going to be for a whole other hour, unfortunately. After you said your speech and the lights turned to red, orange, and the rich yellow of autumn leaves.

Your manager moved closer to you, and she offered you a wide smile. You nodded your head and watched as she ordered the same drink as you, before standing next to you.

“The celebrity scene is going crazy over your exhibit,” Na Sooah said. “Most of those invited showed up.”

“I still can’t believe you invited the whole celebrity scene,” you said, rolling your eyes playfully. “Most of them know nothing about art.”

Sooah laughed. “Not all of them! Kim Namjoon just arrived.”

Your throat went dry, and the hand clutching your glass tightened at the mention of Namjoon’s name. Kim Namjoon. Your childhood friend Kim Namjoon. Your first kiss, your first time… and a member of the most famous boy group in the world. More than that, Namjoon was a fellow art enthusiast.

Namjoon’s love for art started at the same time as yours. He had been enthralled by your drawings, believing that you had a gift that needed to be nurtured and protected. Like his love for music, though his comparisons most often made no sense. To you, that is.

Namjoon had been your first heartbreak, back when every emotion felt deeper than the ocean, when anger, pain, and sadness ran longer than eternity. Back when he hadn’t even joined Big Hit yet.

“Kim Namjoon,” you repeated, tasting his name in your mouth for the first time since that ugly October night when you had told him you hated him more than anything in this world, and he had left without even a single look back.

You had never spoken after that. You had never talked about him anymore either, not to your friends or family. And when you had begged your parents to change school, they had caved in, letting you attend the same school as your cousin Miyoung.

Miyoung had been your closest friend since then, until Sooah had come into your life to form a trio with you and your cousin when you had attended college in arts.

“Yeah, he’s created quite a commotion outside,” Sooah commented, and you remembered the mop of black hair.

Could that have been Namjoon?

“And when he RSVP’ed, he mentioned that he would like to have a talk with the artist, so I hope you’re ready,” Sooah added, teasingly.

You glared at her through your mask. “You couldn’t have told me before?”

“No.”

You rolled your eyes once more, not so playfully this time, taking another sip of your drink. “He’s Kim Namjoon, you could have let a girl prepare.”

At that, Sooah laughed out loud. “Got a little crush?”

“Quite the opposite,” you said through gritted teeth.

You hated Kim Namjoon.

You noticed him then. He was dressed simply, yet it was elegant, somehow. Or maybe it was the way he carried himself, with his large and tall frame, that made him elegant. Because you doubted a pair of jeans with a gray cardigan over a light blue polo was supposed to be this elegant. His long coat matched the colour of his cardigan almost to perfection, and he flashed dimples to the employee at the coat check as he took off the coat, revealing more of his large frame.

Needless to say, Kim Namjoon didn’t look like he could rip a log in two with his bare hands back when you had first known him. No, he had been a thin, gangly teen, with arms that seemed too long for his frame.

When he was rid of his coat, he moved to the side to let the man behind him give his coat away, and then the two of them started walking together.

You had no idea who the other man was, but from the looks of it, he was a friend, as Namjoon laughed along with him.

One of your hands moved to your face, gently grazing your mask to make sure it was still well-fitted. It was like one of those masks people wore at the Venice carnival. It matched the theme of your exhibit, with autumn leaves craftily molded into it. It was a piece of art in and of itself, like all the masks you wore as an artist.

He wouldn’t recognize you. You were positive he wasn’t going to be able to recognize you with just the lower part of your face on display, especially after so many years apart. Your voice had changed to – matured, aged, like your features, quite honestly.

After all, the last time Kim Namjoon had seen you, you had been a crying, yelling, angsty fifteen-year-old.

Sooah left you to a couple that was looking to buy one of the backlit art pieces, and you explained to them the process behind the creation of the art they had chosen, eyes once in a while flitting around to make sure Kim Namjoon wasn’t in your vicinity yet.

He wasn’t. He was perusing around the gallery, stopping to talk to other celebrities once in a while, and so far, you weren’t even sure he had looked your way. Which was a good thing, because that meant maybe you’d make it to your speech before he actually tried talking to you.

You could leave immediately after your speech, right?

“And what about the subject of autumn interested you so much?” the older man in front of you asked.

You blinked out of your reverie, offering him a practiced, easy smile. “If you had to choose, would you want to witness the beginning or the end?” you asked.

It was the catchphrase of your speech. Though people could argue that the year ended and began in the winter months, you had always seen a finality in the months of fall and had portrayed it in your art.

The man seemed taken aback by your question. He cocked his head to the side, before glancing at his wife. “The end carries weight,” the wife said pensively. “It carries age and wisdom.”

You offered her a polite nod. “Exactly. I find beauty in the end and chose to portray it with the months of autumn. When life seems to come to its end.”

“Fall is beautiful,” the man agreed. “But wouldn’t you argue the start holds more beauty? With all the possibilities that it carries.”

“A different kind of beauty. Which, maybe it’s going to inspire my next exhibit,” you teased, secretively, and the couple laughed.

You talked to them a little more, and it seemed life had salvation to offer you because Sooah was the one that came to you first, and not Kim Namjoon. You said goodbye to the couple, before following your manager to the spot where you were to say your speech. As usual, nerves wracked your whole body at the sight of the standing mic, and you had to resist not to bring your thumb to your mouth to nibble on the nail. It was a habit you had gotten rid of only recently, and you really didn’t want it to come back.

Especially not in front of a crowd such as this one, in which you knew Kim Namjoon was standing.

Sooah stopped in the crowd, pushing you forward gently, inciting you to walk the rest of the way yourself. Your heart beat out of your chest as if it was about to escape your ribcage, and you took a deep steadying breath before moving out of the crowd.

The music stopped, and the lights immediately dimmed, until all that was left was a single spotlight, which shone on you as you stopped next to the mic. Back turned to the crowd, eyes skimming over the biggest piece of your exhibit. Ilsan lay before you, draped in the colours of autumn.

You breathed in and out one last time, and then you turned, stepping in front of the mic.

“If you could choose,” you started, voice steadier than you expected it’d be. “Would you choose the end or the beginning?”

The couple you had been speaking to smiled wildly at your sentence, and you let the silence linger long enough for people to whisper their own answer. Music started with low traditional instruments replacing the upbeat melody from earlier.

“There is a form of beauty in the end. In knowing you’ve seen it all, and that rest is at your door,” you continued. “There’s beauty in looking back, in wisdom, and in the Colours of Autumn.” You paused, looking over the crowd. You noticed Namjoon standing at the back, listening politely. “My exhibition carries this: the end of the year, of the cycle of nature. The beauty of fall, of leaves and October nights and November rains.” You wondered if people could tell that your hand was slightly trembling, where it held the mic. “When the wind catches and leaves blow, it is time to look back. So tonight, I want you all to take a step back, to look back on your lives and ask yourselves, ‘Have I found the wisdom of The Colours of Autumn?’”

The spotlight turned off, and you walked away from the mic to the crowd. When you turned back to look at the piece of Ilsan, a projector came to life and the story you had prepared started.

You tuned it out: you had seen the shadow and light projections so many times already they had lost all sense to you. It often happened – if you stared at your art for too long, it lost all its meaning. So you usually didn’t look back on a piece right away. You waited for the end, for the concretization that came with your exhibits, and only then did you look back.

Except the lights and shadows. You had watched those fifteen times yesterday only to make sure that everything was perfect. And you were quite the perfectionist, you knew that they were.

While everyone was watching, you slowly made your way to the back of the crowd. You surprisingly still had your drink in your hands, and you took a careful sip as you finally slipped out of the big of the crowd. The drink was flat now, and you tried to head towards the refreshment table in order to rid yourself of it.

It seemed your calculations had been wrong, because Kim Namjoon stood in front of you, in all his tall glory.

All his infuriating glory, as dimples graced his cheeks at the sight of you. They stopped you in your tracks, and you gazed up at him, eyes connecting even through the dim lighting. His friend was standing next to him, and your eyes flitted to him once before looking at Namjoon again.

Namjoon nodded his head, politely, before taking a sip of the beer he was holding. You nodded back, and then you resumed moving, thoughts spiraling like leaves in the fall wind. You made it all the way to the small door that led to the stairs to your studio before you were stopped by a large hand on your elbow.

You knew who it was without having to turn around, and you would have cursed him for not watching the show had applauds not sounded, indicating that it was over anyway.

“Hi,” Namjoon politely said when you were finally facing his way. His hand had long returned to the pocket of his jeans, and he looked infinitely nonchalant, standing there in front of you. “Sorry for the intrusion, but your manager told me to be quick to speak to you at the end if I didn’t want to miss you.”

Sooah could go to hell.

You offered a polite chuckle, though to you, it sounded like you were choking on air. Because frankly, you felt like you were. “I do usually slip away in the night,” you answered. You glanced at the door, hating that your salvation had been so close yet so far. “You caught me right before I was to leave.”

When you faced Namjoon again, you noticed the confused look on his features. His brows were furrowed over his eyes, his lips were slightly parted, and he had tilted his head to the side in confusion. His eyes, slightly narrowed, made him look like some sort of dragon, and God were you well placed to know Namjoon could breathe fire if he wanted.

At least when he was a teen, he could.

“I’ve been trying to get in contact with you,” Namjoon admitted. “Your manager said to come here if I wanted a chance to talk to you.”

You cocked an eyebrow, though the mask hid it from view. What the hell could Namjoon want to speak to you about?

“I’ve noticed you portray Ilsan in your art a lot, and since I come from there, I wanted to know if I could buy a piece,” he added to your stunned silence.

“You didn’t have to talk to me to ask for that,” you said, and you glanced around at the employees on the floor that were in charge of the actual selling.

“I wanted to have the artist’s insight on which piece she’d believe would fit best for me,” he continued, and he seemed to realize then that this was weird. He scratched the back of his neck, shrugging his shoulders a little. “Or maybe even have one made personally?”

Now, you remembered why you hated Kim Namjoon. “I do not take commissions,” you flatly replied. “If you wish to buy a piece, you can auction for one with one of my employees.”

“Sorry,” Namjoon quickly said. “I didn’t want to sound rude. Like at all. It’s just… there was this piece I really liked from your last exposition, Winds of the West? I couldn’t buy it in time.”

“I do not remake pieces.”

Silence followed your statement. Had he only then noticed how cold you were towards him?

“Right,” he eventually said. “How unfortunate. I think the person that bought it is here today. Might as well go talk to them.”

It was said like a joke, but you didn’t bite, remaining entirely stoic in front of him. Kim Namjoon didn’t seem to like it, as if he was used to people bending to his every wish, and he probably was.

“Might as well,” you agreed, hoping that it was going to make him leave.

It seemed it did the trick, because he looked over his shoulder, probably searching for the person in question. When his eyes settled back on you, he said, “Guess I’ll let you escape through the night.”

You pursed your lips, nodding once. And just because you wanted to preserve your artist image a little, even though you reckoned you had been rude to him, you said, “Good luck with getting the piece.”

At that, he lit up, and the dimples appeared.

You hated that after all these years, they still had an effect on you.

“Thank you, Maehwa,” he gently said.

Hearing him say your artist’s name had you freezing on the spot. You hoped he didn’t see the panic in your eyes, and the colours draining from the half of your face visible to people. He did furrow his eyebrows once more though, looking pensive, but you didn’t give him a chance to say anything else. Indeed, you quickly wished him good night, before turning around and stepping through the door.

Once you were in the cool darkness, back pressed against the door you’d just locked, you took another deep steadying breath, like the one you had taken before your speech.

Maehwa had been Namjoon’s nickname for you, all those years ago. Because back then, you had mostly been drawing flowers and had been attracted to the maehwas, the blooms of a plum. But maehwas were common and loved, and there was no way he could have connected the dots. He didn’t seem like he had, or else you were pretty sure he would have approached you in an entirely different fashion. Indeed, back then, he had told you he’d kill you if he ever saw you again, which, in your fifteen-year-old heart, had been quite the threat.

Once you were calmed, you walked down the stairs, breathing in a sigh of relief at the sight of your studio. Right now, it was pretty much empty, save for the painting you had started for Miyoung’s wedding next summer.

She wasn’t even engaged yet, but her boyfriend Doyoon had let you in on the secret since you were going to help with the proposal in a few weeks. You glanced at the painting, almost wishing to work on it a little just to get your mind off things. But it was late, and you’d rather be at home, with your cat Gabi.

Was it your fault if memories of Kim Namjoon swam in your head until late that night? You highly doubted so. And looking back, you couldn’t see any beauty in your ending. You, who preached that all endings held beauty. Had you just been too immature then? You thought perhaps you had been, but it didn’t really matter anymore though, did it? It couldn’t.

Why, then, were you unable to shake Kim Namjoon out of your thoughts, until troubled sleep found you in its embrace?

*****

                December was grand. With showers of fluffy snow that left a blanket on the world, and Miyoung’s engagement party. You painted, stained your fingers with blue and purple to match the colours of the winter landscape, and by the time January came, you had all but forgotten how Kim Namjoon had just reappeared one evening in late November.

Your studio was cool at this time of the year, and the windows at the top of the walls had iced with frost. You were wearing a thick sweater, with a pair of leggings you had long stained with paint, back when you were working on the fall Ilsan piece.

Indie music was playing in the background, a new artist that had been taking over Seoul and South Korea with her music. It was sad, but Miyoung had insisted that you listen to it, saying that the artist had been rookie of the year at MAMA last year. You had been supposed to accompany Miyoung to the singer’s stadium show too, but you had ended up being sick, and Sooah had gone in your stead.

The music was lonely, nostalgic, but the lyrics were powerful and inspiring. So you kept on painting, as the light of the rising sun slowly melted the frost on the window, though the corners clung to it like one clings to a lover just returned from war.

You hadn’t slept last night. Had stayed up working on your current piece, and exhaustion was slowly catching up to you, even though the inspiration hadn’t worn off yet. So you kept working, head tilting to the side whenever you finished a small part, waiting to know what the next step in the journey was.

You had a fist on your hip when Sooah and Miyoung both appeared at the top of the stairs leading to the basement, voices cheery and loud in the relative calmness of your studio.

“Please tell me you haven’t been up all night,” Miyoung scolded you, and your gaze slid to where she was walking down the stairs, hands holding up two coffees.

She handed one to you when she reached the basement floor. You took it gladly with the hand that was previously on your hip, shrugging your shoulders. “I was almost done.”

Both Sooah and Miyoung looked at the piece.

“Clearly,” Sooah sarcastically said.

Your eyes also slid back to your piece. You took a step back, and clearly, you were far from done. You had been working on the middle portion all night, but you still had only a vague drawing for the rest of the canvas. You sighed, putting down your brush.

“I meant I’m almost done with what I wanted to finish,” you specified.

Sooah nodded her head, before plopping down on the couch in one corner. Miyoung glanced once at her, before resuming her attention on you.

“Why did it take two months for me to know Kim Namjoon came to your exhibit?” she asked, with the most innocent voice.

Your mouth fell open. “What? It was all over the news.”

“You know I don’t watch the news!” Miyoung exclaimed. “Sooah mentioned it while we were getting coffee.”

“I-“

“And why did you never tell me you dated that guy when you were younger?” Sooah interjected, not letting you finish your sentence.

“Mimi!” you burst, and you jumped towards Miyoung, fully in the hopes of tackling her to the ground.

“The art!” Miyoung screamed as she escaped you. “Be careful with your art!”

You stopped in your tracks, electing to glare at her instead. “Why did you tell her? I was fifteen!”

“Still counts,” Miyoung replied, the innocent act still on.

But you wouldn’t be fooled. “It clearly doesn’t.” You turned your head towards Sooah, who watched with a giddy smile from where she sat. “Right? Who cares about a teenage ex?”

She laughed. “Clearly, you, if you get so worked up about it, what, thirteen years later?”

You frowned, shaking your head. Instead of replying, you took a long sip of your coffee, hoping it would give you something to reply to that.

“I don’t care,” you said when the sip was swallowed, and you couldn’t really wait anymore.

Sooah nodded, getting up from her spot on the couch to head in front of the painting you had been working on. You watched her go, an eyebrow cocked inquisitively.

“Well then,” she said once she was standing there, with her back turned to you. She smacked her lips once, the only way you knew she was up to no good. “You won’t care if I tell you he asked to film something in the gallery, and I said yes.”

You loved your friends. You really did. But sometimes you hated them too. Like right now, as your brain immediately started planning their murder.

“What the fuck?”

Sooah finally turned towards you, acting as if she didn’t just announce the worst news of your life to you. “Yeah. The pay is going to be worth it, and it’s going to give a lot of worldwide visibility to your art. It really is worth it.”

“But Kim Namjoon?” you complained. “Couldn’t you have chosen… I don’t know, some cool indie artist?”

“He’s a cool artist,” Sooah stated, shrugging her shoulders.

You narrowed your eyes in suspicion. “Is he really?”

“His music is good,” Miyoung cut in innocently.

Your head snapped towards her. “You listen to his music?”

“Yeah, the album he released in December is good.”

And that was how you found yourself sleep-deprived, listening to a music album made by your teenage ex, as your manager explained to you the deeds of the project Namjoon was going to film in the gallery. Even though Sooah was one of your closest friends, you couldn’t really say no when she asked you to do job things. You trusted her entirely on her choices, had always did, but today you regretted it just a little bit.

Luckily enough for her, your exhaustion won over your will to fire her – or worse, to murder her – and you headed home when you finished listening to the album, repeating time and time again to you didn’t think Namjoon’s music was good.

It had led to Miyoung innocently mentioning that your breakup had been ugly, and really you had to get out of there before you committed the irreparable. It was only a few hours later, after a well-deserved nap, that you realized something.

Kim Namjoon shooting a video in your gallery didn’t mean you had to be present, right?

*****

Kim Namjoon shooting a video in your gallery actually meant that you were going to have to be present.

You had been too tired, that day with Sooah. Had entirely not assimilated that the project he was filming was a series of short episodes where he met up with various local artists, presenting their craft to the world. He had chosen you for the painting episode, even though you were quite convinced there were way better artists out there that he could have chosen from. You didn’t really have a say in this – what Sooah wanted, Sooah got.

Still, you were given a reprieve – the date chosen for shooting was still in a week, and so you took to arranging your gallery the way you believed would work best. And though you were pretty sure it was ready, some late Thursday afternoon you found yourself moving around some paintings, deciding to change the location of the Ilsan piece that had been the vehicle of the shadow and light projection you had shown at your exhibit in November.

You watched as two employees moved the piece where you had asked them to, fists on your hips, when bells rang, indicating that someone had walked in. You didn’t dare look behind you, instead giving directions to the employees as one of them carefully climbed the two first steps of a stepladder to hang the painting where it needed to be.

You surveyed them until the painting was safely hung, almost forgetting that someone had walked in. You only remembered when you felt a heavy gaze on your profile, and a silhouette appeared. You glanced their way then, and almost let out a startled scream that would have clearly made the windows explode.

Kim Namjoon offered you a tight-lipped smile.

“Are you Maehwa?” he asked.

You put a hand over your chest, trying to keep your heart from going into arrest. “You can’t just sneak on people like this,” you grumbled.

Then, the weirdest thing happened. He started smiling, wide, flashing his insufferable dimples, and his eyes lit up from within.

“It really is you.”

You gulped. “I’m sorry, do I know you?” You wanted to scold yourself for saying that, as if you wouldn’t know who Kim Namjoon was, even if he wasn’t your ex from so many years ago.

“Y/n, don’t play this game with me,” Namjoon said, teasingly. “I was pretty sure it was you in November, and now I have the proof.”

You scoffed. “What do you want?”

This time, his smile only allowed one dimple to appear, and you hated it even more. “Your manager told me that I could come over today to prepare for shooting. She said you were setting up the gallery.”

You would really need to fire Na Sooah, wouldn’t you?

You looked around, though it was pretty much ready. The filming crew was supposed to come at the beginning of next week to set up the spotlights and everything else they might need, as filming was only supposed to be Wednesday next week.

“Yeah,” you replied flatly. “What do you need to prepare?”

He tilted his head to the side. “We haven’t seen each other in years, and that’s how you speak to me? I remembered you to be a lot warmer.”

The nerves on this man…

“It’s been over ten years, I’ve changed.” You clenched your jaw once, before taking a deep, steadying breath. There were employees around, after all. “What do you need to prepare?”

He just smiled, mysteriously, before glancing around once. “Do you have an office somewhere around here?”

You looked up to the ceiling, rolling your eyes so far back you thought they were going to stick to the back of your head. “I have my studio downstairs,” you grumbled. “Follow me.”

He nodded, dimples flashing, and followed you as you made your way to the door through which you had escaped from him in November. Only this time, there was no escaping.

Namjoon’s heavy footsteps followed you down the stairs, and you braced yourself for the inevitable comments he was going to make about your studio. To your surprise, he remained silent, and you realized that he, too, had changed through the years.

No one remained quite like their fifteen-year-old self, didn’t they?

You moved towards the sitting area, vaguely motioning to an armchair. “Have a seat.”

You glanced over your shoulder, only to see Namjoon was looking at your current work-in-progress. It made you feel insecure, somehow, and you cleared your throat.

Namjoon’s gaze trailed to you. “Sorry.”

He walked towards you, and you felt small as he stopped right in front of you, still with that same infuriating, warm smile on his lips. “Your art has improved a lot through the years.”

You fled his gaze, motioning to the armchair again. “Do you want coffee? Or a tea?”

“Just water would be fine,” he replied, his smile falling for the first time since he had appeared in the gallery upstairs.

You nodded curtly, and as you headed towards the kitchen area of your studio, Namjoon got comfortable in the armchair. You brought back two glasses of water, mostly because you knew you were going to need something to hold to keep your nerves at bay. Namjoon accepted his with a slight bow of his head, and then you sat on the couch.

You exchanged a look, as you waited expectantly for him to say something. He remained silent, a pensive look on his features. It threw you off, as he had been the type to talk a lot back then.

“You’ve changed,” he stated out of the blue, and it made you cock an eyebrow.

“Obviously,” you drawled. “I would expect someone to change after thirteen years.”

Those stupid dimples appeared for half a heartbeat. “Yet you haven’t changed at all.” At your obstinate silence, Namjoon specified, “You’re still just as petty as I remember you to be.”

Your eyes widened. “Are you here to insult me or to prepare for shooting your show?”

He chuckled, a deep sound that had you busying yourself with a sip of water. He mirrored you, before saying, “I don’t mean to insult you at all”.

Should you call him out for his bullshit? Back then you would have, but you had grown up. So you remained silent once more, waiting for him to continue.

“It’s just weird to see you again,” he said, and he motioned towards you with the hand holding the glass. “You look… good.”

Not at all what you were expecting. It made you gulp, and you hated that your cheeks were burning. “It is weird, right?”

He nodded once, eyes trailing away from you to look down at his glass. “I’m happy your dreams worked out.”

Now, the pang in your heart was unwelcome. Kim Namjoon shouldn’t have the power to make you feel like this, not after all the years.

“I worked hard,” you replied carefully. “As you have, I presume.”

At that, he chuckled, tilting his head to the side. “I sure have.”

Another awkward silence and you glanced at him as he took a sip of water.

“So, what did you want to prepare?” you asked once you couldn’t stand the silence anymore.

“Oh,” he let out. He sat back in the armchair, looking way too at ease with his thighs slightly spread. “I wanted to give you the list of questions that I’m going to ask so that way you can prepare in advance,” he told you, offering you another one of those disarming, dimple-flashing smiles.

You cocked an eyebrow. “You couldn’t have shared them by email?”

Another chuckle of his had you looking away, focusing on your project.

“I could have. But I wanted to see if my inkling was right at the same time,” he explained. “Before the day of shooting, that is.”

You sighed, before looking back at him. His eyes were already on you, and it made you gulp once more.

Namjoon had gotten really intimidating, after all these years.

“Well, now you know,” you said. “Was there anything else you needed?”

He seemed surprised at the dismissal in your tone. “Not… really.” He wet his lips, watching you carefully. “I just thought it’d be great to catch up.” His gaze moved to your surroundings, before settling back on you. “To get to know how you managed to get such a nice studio and all that. I haven’t heard about you since we broke up.”

“Because I wanted it to be this way,” you replied. “And why do you have to say it like you didn’t believe I’d make it?”

“Wait, no,” he quickly said. “That’s not what I meant.”

You couldn’t help the roll of your eyes. “Of course not.”

He laughed. “Really? After all these years, you’re still mad at me?”

“You did tell me you wanted to kill me,” you reminded him in a grumble.

He seemed surprised. He frowned, and his head once again tilted to the side. “Did I?”

“You don’t remember?”

At that, you were the one to be surprised. It had been such a pivotal piece of your existence, back then, that you expected it to be marked into his brain the same way that it was in yours.

He shrugged. “Not particularly. I got super busy with being a trainee, and I just… I guess I forgot.”

“Oh,” you let out. The silence that followed was heavy, awkward, and you hoped it was enough for Namjoon to get the cue and leave.

Maybe he was still just as dumb and clueless as he had been then, because he said, “I was intense, wasn’t I?”

You pursed your lips. “Yeah.”

You held his eyes for a few seconds until your gaze dropped to your glass. You hated how you couldn’t look at him anymore, but gosh, he looked a lot better than he did then, and you had already found him attractive all those years ago.

“I…” he trailed off, nibbling at his bottom lip. “I was wondering if I could have your phone number, to send you the list of questions.”

“Uh…” You scratched the back of your neck, shrugging your shoulders. “You can send it to my manager, she’ll have it sent to me.”

If he was disappointed, he didn’t let it show. “I guess I’ll see you next week, then?”

You nodded once, before clenching your jaw. Because why did some stupid part of you not want him to leave right away?

“Did you eat? I was about to order fried chicken.”

He looked almost startled by your invitation. “I… have eaten, actually,” he replied truthfully, never one to lie. “But if you want company while you eat, I can always stay.”

You shook your head. “Nah, all good. I was just asking to be polite.”

He didn’t call you out on your bullshit, instead offering you a tight-lipped smile. “Then I guess I’ll see you next week.”

You walked him back upstairs, teeth nibbling at the inside of your lip as you tried to ignore the weight of the awkwardness between you. He wished you a good day, flashing those dimples of his, and he left, without once looking back.

You watched him as he climbed in a company car, and your gaze dropped to the ground as the car drove away, quickly disappearing from view.

What the hell had just happened?

*****

                Namjoon’s list of questions was good. Mostly, it was centered around what you used as an inspiration, which other artists did you look up to, and what kind of music you listened to while practicing your art, if you listened to any at all. There was also stuff about where you grew up, and how it might have affected your art.

Nothing too personal, yet the fact that the questions were from Namjoon felt incredibly personal, and your hands were clammy, heart beating out of your chest, by the time the day of shooting came. It didn’t help that there was some problem with the cameras, which was only solved a few hours after the shooting was first supposed to start.

This meant you spent the most awkward, long hours of your life in Namjoon’s company, barely even talking because, frankly, you had nothing to tell him. He seemed fine with the silence, or maybe he just sucked at small talk just as much as you, and he didn’t say anything, just sat there scrolling on his phone until the director came to get the two of you.

And when filming started, Namjoon started asking you his questions, and you tried not to be a blushing mess as you answered. Tried and succeeded, you liked to tell yourself, because you were used to being interviewed.

The fact that you were starting to be renowned in Seoul’s painting scene helped, clearly, because you made it through the introduction and first few questions without stuttering.

They were the easiest ones, after all.

“At what age did you start painting?” Namjoon asked as you sat on the little balcony outside of your gallery, looking over the Han River.

Your breath turned into a cloud as you exhaled, and you followed it with your eyes as it moved up towards the sky. “I started when I was seven. But at first, I only drew, and then started painting when I tried it for the first time in middle school and fell in love with the craft.”

Namjoon was there that day. Had ruined your painting when he had fallen next to it, feet getting tangled in the pots of paint. You had been furious, but you had also been two laughing messes by the time class had finished.

You had started dating half a year later, making the decision right outside of the art class, where it had all begun if you were honest.

“What do you like so much about painting?”

You met his gaze, not really knowing how to answer that question. You had been searching for what to reply for hours the day before, and all you had been able to come up with was, “It allows me to create, to evacuate emotions and to make something that is worth looking back at.”

You weren’t sure it was the answer he was looking for, but you still said it. He offered you a secretive smile, as if it made all the sense in the world to him.

You hoped the camera didn’t catch your eyes flicking to his lips, before getting stuck in the dimple on his cheek.

“I think that’s understandable,” he replied truthfully. “Creating music feels a little like that, at least for me.”

You pursed your lips, not really knowing what you could say to add to the conversation. Namjoon took it in stride, following with his next question.

And it went like that for the whole interview. At some point, you moved inside, with the aim of talking about certain art pieces of your choosing. Namjoon asked questions about your latest exposition, about what it was like compared to your first one, and frankly, you didn’t see the time go until the director cut the tape for the last time, telling Namjoon that it was closing time.

To your surprise, Namjoon had one last question for you.

“As we bring this interview to an end,” Namjoon said, eyes finding yours, “I have one last question for our artist.” He waited a few seconds, as if to give emphasis to his words, before adding, “Why did you choose the name Maehwa?”

You stared at him, he stared at you. You were pretty sure he could read the answer in your eyes, and you were pretty sure you didn’t want to say it out loud. It felt awkward, and this time you doubted the makeup they had put on your skin before filming could hide the blush on your cheeks.

“Uh,” you let out, coughing a little. “When I was younger, a friend of mine used to call me that. I liked the nickname, and I guess it stuck around?”

‘A friend of mine translated’ to him, to Namjoon, and you hoped he couldn’t tell just how much you were spiraling, like a leaf caught in the whirlpool of a leaking sink. Because you were caught in the current, feeling like you were stupid, to have held onto a stupid nickname that meant nothing, that never should have meant anything.

“It’s a pretty name,” Namjoon reflected.

His eyes were heavy on you because, of course, he knew that it was him. Of course, he remembered the days of youth where you had learned about love, by his side.

He had been there after all.

“Thank you,” you replied, a little breathlessly.

After that, Namjoon closed the interview, and when the cameras turned off, you let out a long, wavering sigh. It made him chuckle, as people buzzed around you to put everything away.

“Everything okay?”

You offered him a no-bullshit look. “You didn’t tell me about that last question.”

It sounded accusing, and frankly, you were accusing him. He recoiled, just a little, losing the small smile that was gracing his lips.

“I honestly thought it up during the interview,” he admitted. “I should have warned you.”

You clenched your jaw for a few seconds, before releasing yet another sigh. “It’s whatever. Why did you even want to know that?”

“Because I gave you that nickname…” he said, looking suddenly ashamed.

As if he was a child getting scolded for making a mistake. You didn’t like that look on him, even though he entirely deserved it, so you softened your expression before saying, “You did.”

He held your gaze, and the space between you filled with memories, with his laughter and the rain that early June night when you had kissed for the first time. It made you long for the warmth of his honey-toned skin, taking you by surprise.

Yes, you had once loved Kim Namjoon, but that had been thirteen years ago, when you were too young to actually know what love was.

“Do you…” you started, not knowing where you were headed.

Yet it was like he knew. “Do you want to get dinner with me sometime this week?” he asked, finishing your sentence.

You smiled, looking down as if that would hide the blush on your cheeks. “Only if you take me somewhere nice.”

“You deserve the best,” he said, nodding once. “I know just the place.”

You met his gaze again, and the smile grew like flowers under the sun. “Then yes, I’d like to grab dinner with you.”

At that, he offered you an award-winning smile, with the infuriating dimples creating indents in his cheeks. “For a moment, I was convinced you were going to refuse.”

The blush on your cheeks deepened as you asked, “Why?”

“You haven’t been…” he trailed off, glancing around to make sure no one was paying attention to the both of you, but most people were busy putting away the lights and mics from the set. “You haven’t been very warm,” he finished as his eyes settled back on you.

You nibbled at your lower lip, nodding curtly. “Right.” You held his gaze for a few seconds, and then you found you were too much of a coward, fleeing his dragon eyes to look at the tiles of the floor instead. “We didn’t part on exactly good terms, you know?”

“Yeah.” He took a step towards you, extending his hand in front of him as if expecting you to shake it. When he added, “I’m Kim Namjoon, it’s nice to meet you”, you understood that he was, in fact, waiting for you to shake it.

“What are you doing?” you asked, ignoring the hand.

He stubbornly kept it there. “Pretending that this is my first time meeting you,” he explained, even though it made little to no sense. When he saw the confused look on your face, he clarified, “So that way, we can pretend that the past never happened, and we can start again on better grounds.”

It made you giggle, a shy little sound that had you finally cave in, your small hand closing around his large one. “I already agreed to grab dinner with you, but…” you trailed off, finally meeting his gaze again. “Nice to meet you, Kim Namjoon. I’m Y/n.”

He held your hand for a second longer than necessary, before letting it go. Your fingers twitched as if wishing he had held on longer, and you hid it by hiding your arm behind your back.

“You come here often?” he asked, adding your name at the end. “I’ve never seen you around.”

You cocked an eyebrow, and you both burst out laughing at the same time.

“You’re bad at this,” you teased him. “We’re in my studio, of course, I come here often.”

He nodded. “Ah, I apologize. It’s my first time around, after all.”

You rolled your eyes, playfully shoving him in the shoulder. It just made him laugh again, and there was something so familiar, so warm in his laugh that you turned wistful. He immediately noticed the shift in you, and his smile slowly died down to be replaced by a serious look.

“I’m serious,” he told you. “It’d be great to start on new grounds.”

“I know. I fully agree,” you said. “It’s just… who would have thought I’d accept to grab dinner with the first boy that broke my heart.”

He didn’t reply. Just turned a little apologetic, though you reckoned you had broken his heart too. You both had been young and dumb, there was no way to deny it. And it was strange indeed, that thirteen years later, you had met again. Both of you having changed, having grown until you weren’t sure you really recognized him.

Except for the dimples. The dimples were the same, a never-changing feature that you didn't doubt had stolen the heart of a million of his fans. It had stolen your heart back then after all.

“So,” he said after his manager told him that they were ready to leave, breaking the bubble of the little dimension you both had fallen in. “This time, I assume you’ll allow me to write down your number?”

You snorted, holding out your hand between the two of you, a little like he had done earlier though you were waiting for him to give you his phone. “Sure, I’ll put it in your phone.”

He pouted, looking like the child you had known all those years ago. “I lost my phone.”

“What?”

He repeated sheepishly. “I think I left it in the company car that dropped me off here.”

That was such a Namjoon thing to do you found your heart growing warm once again. “Okay then, I’ll write my number on a paper, and you text me when you find your phone. That works?”

The bright smile returned, and he nodded his head. “That works for me.”

You held his gaze for a few more seconds, before moving away to go get paper in your studio downstairs. When you came back up, he was still waiting, though this time his manager was next to him, looking somehow a little pressed. You felt bad, assuming that he was upset because you were making him wait, so you jogged to Namjoon.

“There you go,” you said, handing him over the paper. Your eyes glided to the manager, before returning to Namjoon. “Text me when you can.”

“I will,” he said.

It sounded like a promise, just as much as it sounded like a beginning.

*****

                “You are shitting me,” Miyoung said, eyes wide like flying saucers.

Cheeks burning, you avoided her insistent gaze. “No…”

“You’re grabbing dinner with Kim Namjoon?” she repeated, and the words sounded so foreign in her mouth that you winced a little.

“Huh,” you let out. “Yeah, seems like I am.”

She shook her head in disbelief, before chuckling lightly. “I can’t believe him. You’re supposed to hate him. You didn’t even want to listen to his music, and now you’re going out with him?” She paused to laugh again. “Sooah won’t believe this.”

“Come on,” you whined. “It’s nothing.”

“Shut up,” Miyoung said as she grabbed her phone. “I’m texting Sooah right now to let her know.”

You tried to steal your friend’s phone from her hands, but she darted away, out of your reach, long enough for the message to be sent. You were pretty sure your cheeks had gone purple now, and all you could do was fold your arms on your chest as you glared at Miyoung.

“It’s just dinner,” you pointed out. “Nothing to freak out about.”

Miyoung narrowed her gaze, eyeing you suspiciously. “Why are you even grabbing dinner with him? What are you hoping to achieve?” Her gaze widened before you could even speak. “Are you only going because he’s RM of BTS?”

You rolled your eyes, looking at the ceiling of your studio. Miyoung had come over when you had texted her about the dinner earlier, claiming that she needed to see for herself if you were just playing with her.

“No?” you said. “I don’t care that he’s RM. I accepted the offer because… I don’t know, at the end of the day, he’s a childhood friend.”

“A childhood friend? He was your first everything.”

Touché. Today, you felt weird whenever you remembered that he had taken your virginity, when you both were so young you shouldn’t even have been thinking about that. You had regretted it for years after – mostly because you had started hating him so bad, but also just because you had been so young. It felt wrong somehow.

“Whatever,” you mumbled. “I only told you because I don’t know how to date. I never really go on dates.”

She laughed, hiding her mouth behind her hand. “Oh my God, it is a date, right?”

You felt yourself flush red, furiously, and your gaze fell to the floor. “I mean, I think so? Don’t you?”

“I thought it was just dinner with a childhood friend,” she mused, hands going behind her back as she rocked on her feet. She was teasing you, and you glared at her. “Alright, alright,” she let out after a few seconds of holding your gaze with a shit-eating smirk on her lips. “First, we’ll need to figure out what you need to wear.”

You nodded, nibbling at your lips. “He mentioned dinner at a restaurant.”

He had. Namjoon had texted you the night after the shoot, claiming that he had indeed forgotten his phone in the car. He had also sent you the link to a famous restaurant in Gangnam, one that you were pretty sure was way over your budget even though you were relatively well-off financially. He had told you he knew the owner, and that the restaurant had private rooms where you could eat without fearing for fans or paparazzi seeing you.

“So then you want to dress nicely,” Miyoung said, nodding once. “A nice pair of dress pants with a cute blouse would do. Or maybe that long black skirt you have that ends right over the knee? You could pair it with…”

“Y/n!” Sooah yelled from the top of the stairs, startling both you and Miyoung. “How dare you not tell me you’re getting dinner with a celebrity?”

Your gaze widened in fear as you watched your manager walking down the stairs, purpose filling her every move.

You were pretty sure the purpose was to murder you.

She pointed a finger at you in affront, her cheeks a little red from the anger. “This is manager business. You can’t just decide…”

“Cut it,” Miyoung interrupted. “You literally bet with me last week that it would happen.”

Sooah dropped the act, face cutting into a bright smile. “I sure did, and I won.” She held out a hand towards Miyoung, who begrudgingly took ten thousand won out of her wallet to put it in Miyoung’s hand. “Thank you,” your manager said. “Now, what’s the plan?”

“They’re getting dinner at a restaurant,” Miyoung declared before you could speak. “What’s the name again?”

You didn’t remember, so you grabbed your phone to look at your text conversation with Namjoon. “Huh…” you trailed off, scrolling up to when he had sent the menu. “Seasons of Seoul.”

Sooah’s mouth fell open. “The Seasons of Seoul? That’s one fancy-ass restaurant.”

You startled at the sound of the curse in Sooah’s voice, before bursting out laughing in time with your friends. “It is,” you said, voice lilting into a whine. “It’s definitely above my budget.”

“Namjoon seems like a gentleman,” Miyoung pointed out “I’m pretty sure he’ll pay.”

“For sure,” Sooah agreed. “When’s the date?”

You blushed, shrugging your shoulders. “We haven’t decided on a day yet.”

“Just tell me when and I’ll clear your schedule,” Sooah said. “I don’t care about any interviews when you can be going on a date with Kim Namjoon.”

You rolled your eyes, though a playful smiled teased the corners of your mouth. “You’ll be the first to know.”

“Yah, I believe I should be the first to know since I was helping you plan what to wear!” Miyoung interjected, which led to your two friends bickering, and then to them helping you out with what to wear. It was a little hard since you weren’t at home and couldn’t rummage through your walk-in closet. Since it was already running late, Sooah suggested heading over to yours, and that was how you found yourself sitting cross-legged on the floor of your living room, back against the couch, as you ate fried chicken and drank soju with your friends.

You were definitely a little buzzed by the time you finished eating, washing your hands at the kitchen sink before you aimed for your closet, where you started pulling out outfit after outfit.

You said no to all of your friends’ suggestions, mostly because it didn’t feel right. Sooah, growing annoyed, suggested to go shopping on the morrow, which made Miyoung jump in excitement, which in turn scared your cat Gabi away.

“Yes, please, please, please!” Miyoung exclaimed. “We haven’t gone in forever. It’ll be like when we were in college procrastinating studying.”

You laughed, brain swimming with alcohol. “As long as you don’t bring me to those fancy stores,” you said. “I hate when people talk to me while I’m shopping for clothes.”

Both your friends threw you no-bullshit looks.

“Come on,” Sooah let out. “Maybe we can even get you another nice outfit for the launch of your next exhibit.”

“I’ve barely even started working on it, it’s not going to be for another full year, at least,” you pointed out. “No need to shop for an outfit now.”

“Pleaseeee,” Miyoung begged. “It’s going to be fun. We can even go to that Samoyed café you like so much.”

The perspective of seeing the Samoyed puppies suddenly made a shopping trip all the more interesting. “Mmh,” you hummed. “I’ll consider it.”

“Bitch!” Miyoung burst, punching you in the shoulder hard enough to hurt. “We’re going tomorrow, just accept your destiny.”

You rolled your eyes as you massaged the spot she had hit, before finally nodding. “Alright, we’ll go. As long as you don’t make me spend my entire paycheck on clothes.”

“Your entire paycheck is like five times what I make so, shut it,” Miyoung pointed out.

“You did sell a piece for over 50 million won last week,” Sooah reminded you.

They had allied against you, hadn’t they?

“Right,” you let out.

“So you have nothing to say for your defense,” Miyoung said sternly, fists resting on her hips in mock authority. “We’re going tomorrow, and you’re coming with us. And,” she added, nodding forcefully, “And you will enjoy yourself.”

You laughed at how dumb she looked. “I’ll try. But I can’t guarantee anything.”

To your surprise, you actually enjoyed yourself the next day. Miyoung and Sooah were great company, had always been, and it really had been a long time since you had spent time together like this. The whole day was spent laughing and gossiping and just enjoying yourselves, and you did end up buying a lot more outfits than you probably needed. Which would be a problem when it came to what to choose for the date, but you didn’t really care.

It was late in the afternoon when your phone buzzed on the table of the Samoyed café, and you picked it up as Miyoung cooed at the fluffy dog she was playing with.

It was Namjoon, asking you if you would be willing to go out with him this Friday.

“Oh my God,” you let out, and you felt your cheeks burning as your outburst had attracted the attention of other clients of the café. “He texted me,” you whispered then for only your friends to hear.

Sooah yelped, clapping her hands. She looked so far from the fierce manager you knew her to be you burst out laughing, slightly shaking your head.

“What did he say?” she asked.

You didn’t answer for a time, letting suspense hang in the air between you and your friends. When Miyoung got up, clearly aiming to grab your phone out of your hands and read the text herself, you finally spoke. “Looks like you’re going to have to clear my schedule this Friday night.”

Sooah shrieked as Miyoung grinned wildly.

“Consider it done!”

*****

                You were anxious. Had been anxious all week, and it had shown up in the painting you were working on. It had turned into a hectic mess of colours, inching closer to a dark cloud than to anything else. It represented your mental state well, even though you tried to keep reminding yourself that it was just Namjoon. If there was such a thing as just Namjoon.

Gosh.

You sighed, looking at yourself in your standing mirror. You were wearing one of the designer outfits you had bought earlier this week, and the skirt hugged your frame well, enhancing your curves. You had curves, you were aware of it, but you weren’t sure they were supposed to look this good. Paired with the white blouse and black blazer, you looked like you were going on a date with a CEO, and not Kim Namjoon.

Though, nowadays it felt almost as if one was a synonym for the other.

You liked the fit, you really did, you were just afraid Namjoon would think you were overdoing yourself. But somehow, you felt really comfortable, ready to conquer the world if need be. Maybe just not Kim Namjoon.

But it was too late to back out of the date. Indeed, the doorbell rang, indicating that he was here, and you met your gaze in the mirror one last time before going to open the door.

Namjoon looked … incredible. With a pair of dark dress pants along with a pale cardigan over a yellow polo. Over that, he was wearing a long coat that looked way too expensive, yet still fit the look. It was more of an artist look than yours, and yet it suited him perfectly.

He was an artist, too, after all.

Most of all, he was holding a bouquet of pale flowers – rose and white and lilac – and he handed it to you as he took in the sight of you.

“You’re beautiful,” he complimented, and he flashed you a corner smile that had just one of his dimples appear.

Your cheeks burned as you nodded once. “You as well,” you said, grabbing the flowers. You hesitantly inhaled them, satisfied with the sweet floral scent that took over your nostrils. You glanced over your shoulder, before opening the door wider for him to come in. “You can come in, I’ll just go put these in water.”

He nodded, stepping in as you retreated into your home, searching for an appropriate vase for the bouquet. Once it was safely tucked in a vase with room temperature water, you moved back to where Namjoon was still waiting, right next to the door. You smiled, a little awkwardly, before putting on the high heels you had chosen for the date.

Namjoon patiently waited for you, and once you straightened, you put on your winter coat, grabbing your purse where you had left it on the table near the door.

“Ready?” Namjoon asked when your gaze finally met his.

You nodded, tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “Yes. Let’s go.”

He smiled his dimple smile, and he opened the door for you. You walked outside, waiting until he had shut it behind him so you could lock it. The cold air hit you right in the face, and you hid your face in the flaps of your coat. To your luck, Namjoon had picked you up in a company car, considering he didn’t drive, and you climbed in first, quickly followed by him.

You sighed at the warmth in the car, and watched as Namjoon leaned forward to tell the driver the address, before sitting back comfortably next to you.

Conversation was somehow awkward at first, mostly because you struggled holding Namjoon’s gaze. In all truth, you reckoned the awkwardness stuck around until you got to the restaurant, and even still as you were led to the private room Namjoon had rented for you both.

He helped you out of your coat, ever so the gentleman, hanging it before taking off his own and putting it beside yours. You just stood for a time, not knowing what to do as you took in the elegance of the restaurant and the dim, private atmosphere that reigned.

You felt like you had stepped right into a palace and, frankly, you weren’t sure you belonged in such a place.

“Sit!” Namjoon quickly said as he noticed you were still standing. And then he rushed to pull the chair for you, making you chuckle embarrassingly.

“You don’t…” you trailed off as you caught a whiff of his cologne.

A dark, masculine smell that made your head a little dizzy. You couldn’t tell why you hadn’t smelled it before – maybe it was because of the coat. All that you knew was that the oaky smell wrapped around you comfortably, refusing to let you go.

“What?” he asked as he sat in front of you, offering you an encouraging smile.

You took a deep breath, chest moving up and down as you tried to regain your composure. When you felt like you could speak without embarrassing yourself further, you said, “Since when are you such a gentleman?”

That made him laugh, full of dimples again, and he slightly shook his head. “Wasn’t I a gentleman when we were dating all those years ago?”

Not at all. He had been an awkward teenager, and you both knew it. As such, you cocked an eyebrow, a teasing smile growing on your lips.

“Were you?”

He winced, chuckling again. “Not at all. But I grew out of it.”

He sure had. He barely held any resemblance to the boy you had once known, except for those damned dimples that were making it hard for you to focus. And now the cologne? You were done for.

“Bangtan changed you, didn’t it?”

He nodded pensively. “I think that, having to be the leader of all these kids? Yeah, it really made me mature faster than I thought possible.”

You furrowed your brows in question. “I don’t know a lot about Bangtan but… isn’t Seokjin older than you?”

Before he could answer, a pretty waitress walked in, pulling a cart with different wine bottles on it. She greeted you two, stopping next to the table before asking you what you wanted to drink. You glanced at Namjoon, who offered you an encouraging smile, as if saying, ‘I’ll have whatever you have’.

“This Cabernet is actually my favourite. So we’ll take this one, please,” you asked, and the waitress offered you a bright smile as she picked up the bottle.

You watched as she put it on the table, eyes trailing to Namjoon longingly. A fan – she was clearly a fan. Namjoon offered her a professional, practiced smile, and she flushed red as she grabbed a wine opener to uncork the bottle. She carefully opened it, before pouring you two a glass.

It was awkward, somehow. And it was only then that you noticed there was jazz music playing in the background. It felt odd that you hadn’t noticed it before – had the beats of your heart been too loud for you to hear it?

When the waitress finally left, offering Namjoon one last look over her shoulder, you cocked an eyebrow, trying not to laugh.

“What?” he asked.

“Does this happen often?”

He chuckled, fingers playing with his glass as he evaded your gaze. “More than you can imagine.” He met your gaze then, and you watched his features as they softened. “But you don’t have to worry about us being here getting out in the media. The owner of the restaurant is an old friend, and she assured that all of her staff can be trusted.”

It hadn’t even crossed your mind, but you weren’t surprised that he had thought of it.

“That’s more of a relief for you than it is for me,” you pointed out.

He nodded, a warm smile on his lips. “You have a reputation too! You’re an artist, just like me.”

That made you snort as you shook your head, eyes falling to your untouched glass of wine. “I don’t think I am in the same category as you, Kim Namjoon. I’m just a painter.”

“You’re much more than just a painter, Maehwa.”

Your throat went dry at the way he said the words, as if they held so much meaning they were heavier than the world. And you wouldn’t be surprised if they did – Kim Namjoon had always been a poet, after all.

“I’m not a member of the most popular K-pop band in the world, though,” you reminded him, and dimples answered you as he humbly smiled.

“Evidently not.”

A comfortable silence moved between you – the first of the evening, you reckoned – and your eyes once more fell to your wine glass. You picked up, spinning the wine to bring out the aromas of it.

“Want to taste?” you asked him, motioning to his own glass.

He picked it up, nodding his head. “Please. I’m surprised to know you have a favourite wine.”

“Trust me, it’s worth it.”

He chuckled, and you clinked your glasses together before taking a sip. You let the rich taste roll on your tongue, appreciating every milliliter of it until you swallowed, and even the aftertaste was good.

A really good wine, indeed. Way too expensive, in your opinion, but you had always liked expensive things. As your designer clothes could tell, and as your date across the table could tell, too.

Not that you were a snobby artist – you were far from it. But you had learned how to appreciate the good things in life long ago when you had first discovered art.

“I like it,” Namjoon commented as he put down the glass. “Nice choice.”

You smiled, relieved that he indeed liked your choice.

As wine flowed between the two of you, you found conversation with Kim Namjoon was a lot easier than you had initially expected. He put you at ease, like he did when you were younger. Together, you reminisced about middle school and high school, about that time he had spilled hot chocolate on his uniform and you had helped him clean up, which had brought you guys closer.

Until he had kissed you as you were doodling maehwas on his arm, and the rest was history.

“No, but,” he insisted, his cheeks turning a pale shade of pink as he closed his eyes in embarrassment. His dimples winked at you, and you looked at him as he collected his thoughts. “To be fair, I never planned to break it. It wasn’t even my fault.”

You cocked an eyebrow. “You were the one holding it,” you reminded him.

You were referencing a fragile plate your mom had offered Namjoon, from her collection of nice plates she usually only displayed during fancy events. Namjoon had broken it a whole hour after he had been gifted it, and to this day, you still couldn’t understand how he had broken it.

“You tickled me!” he burst out, narrowing his eyes at you. “It was entirely your fault.”

You playfully rolled your eyes, before chuckling lightly. “I barely even touched you.”

He glared at you, though it didn’t last, melting into a soft smile that had you looking down at the table.

Right at the same time, a lean girl walked in, clad in a chef’s outfit, holding up the food you and Namjoon had ordered earlier. She offered you a polite smile, and it turned nostalgic as she looked towards Namjoon.

Namjoon said her name, before turning to look at you. “This is the friend I told you about.”

She was beautiful, in an easy, elegant kind of way. Her shoulder-length hair swayed nicely when she walked, and you had half a thought that she probably should be wearing something to make sure no hair could get in the food. Then you figured she probably had taken it off to come here, and you only realized that she had spoken to you when both she and Namjoon settled their gaze on you.

“Nice to meet you too,” you replied, because you were 75% convinced that that was what she had said.

You were relieved when she smiled knowingly, eyes trailing back to Namjoon. They talked a little more, and it took you a moment before you understood that she was one of Namjoon’s friends’ ex. They continued speaking after that, as you listened politely, nodding whenever she looked your way to encourage her to continue.

She looked sad. Nostalgic. Whoever her ex was, you had the intuition that she still loved him.

“Have a good evening,” she told the two of you about a minute later, bowing.

You bowed your head back, as Namjoon wished her good evening, and then you watched her walk out of the room, hair prettily moving around her head.

“She’s Seokjin’s ex,” Namjoon let out pensively once she was out of earshot.

Your eyes widened, and you looked back towards him. “Your bandmate?”

He nodded. “They broke up a few years ago, during the pandemic,” he explained. “They were engaged.”

You weren’t sure Namjoon was supposed to tell you any of that. It sounded personal, and he seemed to get the cue as you remained silent, eyes falling to the steaming plate in front of you.

“Anyway,” he said, chuckling awkwardly. “Shall we eat?”

“Yes,” you immediately replied, a little too quickly.

It had both of you laugh, and the awkwardness lifted to be replaced by that same familiarity the evening had held until Seokjin’s ex had come in. It had you fall back in your nostalgic memories, as you ate the delicious food on your plate.

When you were done eating, Namjoon suggested dessert, and not really wanting the evening to end yet, you accepted. It led to you both drinking a little more, your inhibitions slurring as alcohol rushed through your bloodstream, making you feel young and alive.

The feeling lingered with your lively chatter, with the exchanged laughs and long looks. Sometimes, Namjoon’s eyes burned on you, and you found you were too afraid to hold his gaze, too afraid to let it mean anything. Whenever it happened, you looked down at your glass, and the tenth time that it happened, you found the glass to be empty.

No salvation for you there. Especially considering that dessert was eaten and long gone, and all that had been left was the bottle of wine.

“So,” Namjoon said as he, too, took in the sight of the empty glasses and bottle. “I…” He chuckled, ears turning pink as his dimples flashed on his cheeks. “Thank you for tonight.”

You couldn’t help your own blush as you replied, “I’m glad I said yes.”

He met your gaze, eyes darting to your lips once. When they settled back on your own gaze, you swallowed a sudden lump in your throat.

“We should…” he started, falling silent as he scraped his throat. “We should do this again.”

The lump dissolved into nothingness as you smiled, softly. “I would love to.”

“What about on Sunday? There’s this exhibit I’ve been meaning to visit, thought you might want to join?”

“You want to bring an artist to another artist’s exhibit?”

He seemed surprised at your question, as if it hadn’t even crossed his mind. And truth be told, you liked visiting your fellow artists. There was just something about a shared passion that made you feel calm, understood. As if, no matter the sorrows your life could hold, there would always be someone out there who understood. Someone who could share the burden, who’d offer you a helping hand in the form of art whenever you needed it.

So you quickly added, before Namjoon could say anything, “I’m kidding, yes, I’d love to accompany you.”

He looked so relieved something warm blossomed in your chest, and your cheeks burned.

“Well then,” he said, smiling that dimpled smile. “I should get you home, it’s getting late.”

The perspective of the date ending made your heart squeeze in your chest, for a reason you couldn’t quite understand. “Right,” you agreed.

It was all you said before you both got up, moving to retrieve your coats by the door. After that, you walked towards the outside world, and when Namjoon’s hand accidentally grazed yours – or perhaps it was on purpose – you hooked a finger around his pinky.

Looking up to him, you caught him looking down at you already. From so close, he towered over you, though there was nothing threatening with his height. It felt comforting, safe, as if you were under his protection.

By the warmth in his eyes, you knew you truly were.

You waited in the lobby for the car to come pick you up, Namjoon with his back turned to the people. Though no one looked your way, no one acknowledged your presence, and for a second, you wondered if you really were with a worldwide famous singer or if Namjoon was just a normal person.

Someone like you, someone who could revel in anonymity wherever he went.

“The car is here,” Namjoon told you as you were looking behind him, observing the patrons slowly exiting, laughing about a joke only they knew.

You smiled up at him, before letting him grab your hand properly this time as he led you outside. His large palm engulfed your small one, warmed it up, and your fingers were tingling by the time you reached the car door that Namjoon opened for you.

He really wasn’t a gentleman when you were younger. There was something oddly relieving to see him act in such a way now, showing you that he had grown since you were sixteen and too dumb to actually know what love was.

You settled in the car, reveling in the warm vehicle as Namjoon sat in the seat right next to you. And when the car jostled forward, you became all too aware of the place where Namjoon’s thigh rested against yours, and of where his arm pressed against yours.

You turned your head to look at him, admiring the soft glow on his features induced by the neon lights outside. He met your gaze, offered you a smile, and you felt yourself leaning forward. As if there was a pull between you, something that was inevitable. You had never been good at resisting, so you let yourself be pulled, let yourself find him.

He met you halfway, lips infinitely and surprisingly soft even with the cold January night out there. He sighed against you, shifting slightly so he could angle his head better, deepening the kiss.

And kiss you he did, with memories and yearning and nostalgia that had you part your lips when his tongue swiped at your bottom lip, only to meet it with yours. You remembered days of early art, of words whispered in the dead of night when nothing seemed like it could bring you apart, when you believed it was you and him against the rest of the world.

Your breakup flashed in your thoughts as he rested a hand on your thigh, carefully, but you pushed it away, refusing to let the memory stain this moment with him.

As much as the kiss was unexpected, bubbling out of neon lights on Namjoon’s soft features, it was also expected. As if fifteen-year-old you had expected to find him again, somewhere, even though you had fled to an entire other high school.

As if the story had just been put on hold then, to resume once the time was right. And as much as you usually were wary in your relationships, tonight felt right. It felt right in all the ways that mattered, in his arm on your thigh and the soft smile he offered you when he pulled away, reminding you that you weren’t alone in the car.

You chuckled, blushing deeply, and your hand landed on top of his on your thigh.

“You’re beautiful,” he murmured, and he brushed a strand of hair behind your ear.

You leaned into his touch, sighing dreamily. “I don’t know if it’s the wine,” you said, low enough to make sure only his ears could perceive your words, “but I really want to kiss you more.”

That made him laugh, and his hand fell away from your cheek. “Not here,” he said, head motioning to the driver. “You’ll have to wait until Sunday.”

You pursed your lips, thought about it for half a second before you said, “Do you want to sleep over tonight?”

His grip on your thigh slightly tightened, the only indication that your words had had an effect on him. “You’d like that?”

You parted your lips, tongue darting to wet them. “Yes.”

It was no wonder Namjoon ended up pinning you against your closed door as soon as you walked in, locking you between his strong arms as his lips ravished a hungry kiss on your mouth. You grabbed at the lapels of his coat, trying to pull him closer, right as he slipped one of his large hands to arch your back, pressing your front against him.

The second he left your lips to press open-mouthed kisses on your jaw, you fought against his coat to rid him of the clothing. He sucked on your jaw as he helped you, and soon enough, the coat was abandoned on the floor, right as he pulled you in.

You kicked off your shoes, lips meeting again in a kiss that had your head spin, right as you wrapped your arms around his neck. He groaned when you bit on his bottom lip, and then picked you up, wrapping your legs around his waist. He put you down on the decorative table near the door, and in an attempt to rid him of his shirt, you pushed a vase.

The sound that it made when it shattered on the floor startled both of you, and Namjoon looked down, eyes wide.

“Oh no,” he let out.

You caught his startled gaze, breathing raggedly. “Don’t worry, it was just a cheap vase.”

He looked down at the mess, nodding once. “I’ll buy you another one.”

And then he was finding your mouth again, sucking on your lower lip as he started to fight against your coat, trying to get you out of it. He shortly had to pull away, brows knitting together in concentration because, as much as he tried, the zipper of your coat wasn’t budging.

“Hold on,” you said, putting your hands above his.

Much gentler than him, you managed to unzip the coat, and he helped you slip out of it, throwing it towards his. His eyes dropped to your thighs, where your skirt had ridden up to reveal more skin, though you were wearing pantyhose. He ran his hand along your thighs, head hanging low. You watched him do so, watched his jet-black hair falling in his eyes until you couldn’t resist anymore, reaching between you to push it back.

The strands fell right back in front of his eyes, but it attracted his gaze. He looked at you through his hair, dragon eyes burning a hole through you, and you grabbed his cheeks to pull him into yet another heated kiss.

“Fuck,” he muttered against your lips, and he subconsciously grinded against you, though the skirt and the fabric of his own pants kept you from feeling anything.

“You think we can make it to my room,” you whispered as he moved to your neck, kissing a hot kiss just below your ear.

“You’ll have to show me the way.”

You chuckled, gently pushing on his chest until he finally disconnected from your neck and took a step back. It allowed you to plop down from the table on which he had sat you, and you grabbed his hand, right as he dipped his head to kiss you again.

You kissed him back, moaning softly when his large hand cupped your ass, grabbing at the meat hard but not enough to hurt. It had even more heat pool at your core, liquid lava that was slowly making you unravel, and you needed more.

You pulled away from the kiss begrudgingly, mostly because you wanted to stay here, to be consumed with the passion Namjoon’s lips were carving against you.

You had to make it to your room before you went insane. So you pulled him behind you, not once looking back, or else you wouldn’t get there at all. Luckily enough, you held on strong, but the moment you crossed the threshold to your room, Namjoon pulled you against him, large hand resting on the base of your neck to keep you from moving away.

It took all of three seconds before your brain zeroed in on the spot where his hard dick was pressing against your back.

“Can you feel how much I want you?” he asked, voice low and husky, sending shivers all over your body.

You nodded, tilting your head to the side to give him access when he lowered his head. Too tall, he didn’t quite reach your neck, but his breath skimming over your skin made goosebumps erupt on you.

“I want you too,” you replied breathily.

You could hear a dangerous smirk in his voice when he said, “Take that skirt off”.

Something settled deep inside of you, making you into a puppet he could control. Stepping away from him, your hands went behind your back to unzip the skirt, and you let it fall to the floor. It pooled around your ankle, but when he stepped closer again, one hand squeezing the flesh of your ass, you found yourself unable to do anything.

“You should take off the pantyhose, too, before I rip them”, he added.

You didn’t doubt that Namjoon often miscalculated his strength. Even when he was just a gangly teenager, he already struggled with clumsiness. So you pulled the pantyhose down your legs, and you stepped out of the pile of clothing, waiting for him as he moved closer again.

This time, his hands slipped to your front, and he looked over your shoulder as he started undoing the buttons of your blouse, not even caring that you were still wearing the blazer. His breath skimmed on the side of your face as he did so, and your eyes fluttered closed as you focused on every brush of fabric against you while he worked his way down your blouse.

He pushed both the blouse and blazer off your shoulders when he was done, and they fell on the floor behind you. He didn’t seem to care as he wrapped his arm to your front, moving up until he grabbed your breasts through your bra, squeezing slightly.

“Get on the bed,” he commanded then, and still the good puppet you did, walking to the mattress and sitting down, eyes finally finding him again.

He didn’t say anything as he slowly undressed, pulling his cardigan off. It fell somewhere next to the pile of your clothing, and then he attacked the polo, taking it off in one swift motion that revealed the expanse of his wide chest.

His honey skin seemed to prettily gleam in the moonlight, where it was pulled taught over the big muscles of his chest. He looked sculpted in marble, big and buff, and you closed your thighs in reflex at the thought of his weight over you.

Needless to say, he didn’t look like that when he was a teenager at all. Adulthood looked good on him.

He unbuckled his belt next, taking his time as you just surveyed him. Even in the dim light from the full moon outside, you could see the bulge in his pants, and you salivated at the thought of wrapping your lips around him, of tasting him and making him feel good.

The belt fell with a thud to the ground, and your lips parted as he palmed himself, enhancing the size of his bulge. Your eyes widened slightly – he looked far bigger than you had initially thought he’d be, though you weren’t all that surprised with his large frame.

“Take off your bra,” he said next. “I want to see your breasts.”

You nodded, hands going to your back as you unclasped the bra. You slowly took it off, nipples perking when cold air hit them. You shivered once again as his eyes roamed over you, and even more so when he said, “Beautiful” as if you were a piece of art made for him to admire.

And with the way he was looking at you, you thought maybe, maybe you were.

He took a few steps towards you, and your eyes darted towards the lamp on your bedside table. Namjoon caught your motion, and he tutted lightly. “Not tonight,” he told you. “Tonight is about feeling, not about seeing.”

For some reason, you had expected him to be a lights-on kind of partner, but you weren’t mad about his will to stay in the dark. Because you knew all too well how much pleasure could course through your blood when your sense of sight was taken from you. As an artist, you relied on it far more than a lot of people – the loss of it made you weak, in a burning kind of way.

If you were honest, you enjoyed being blindfolded a lot, but you didn’t see yourself asking Namjoon to do it today. Lights off seemed the closest thing to it, so you didn’t argue with him as he used a knee to part your legs in an attempt to get closer to you.

He grabbed your chin, making you tilt your head back so he could catch your gaze. His eyes were dark, even in the silvery moonlight, and you gulped as he gently patted your cheek.

“You’re going to feel good for me, mmh?”

You nodded, entirely unable to use words right now. Mostly because you were but a puppet, and he the puppeteer. He smirked, satisfied, before unbuttoning his pants. Your eyes dropped, and you watched him do it expectantly, teeth gently digging into your bottom lip in apprehension.

The good kind, the one that made you burst into an explosion of flames.

“You think you can wrap your pretty lips around my dick?” he asked.

For a reason unknown, all you were able to mutter back was, “Namjoon.”

“Yes, baby?”

You gulped, and you looked up at him again. You didn’t watch as he took his pants and underwear off in the same motion, didn’t budge your gaze as you heard the slap of his hard dick on his abdomen. From the way his arm moved, large bicep popping slightly, you knew he was jerking off, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look down. Couldn’t bring yourself to gaze away from his eyes as they burned on you, searing their mark right on your soul.

“What is it?” he asked again, with a barely concealed warning in his voice.

He wasn’t one to have to repeat, was he? No, you were pretty sure Namjoon was used to being obeyed, with being the leader of a boyband like BTS. Pretty sure he expected to be obeyed, and somehow that turned you from puppet to puppeteer, as your hands rested on his thick, muscular thighs.

“You want me to suck your dick?” you asked, voice sultry as you moved your hands up, never touching him where he so visibly wanted.

His lips parted, though he remained surprisingly silent. He clearly didn’t expect you to take control of the situation, but from the way his features darkened even more, you knew he liked it.

“Want me to suck you dry?” you added. “Want to come down my throat?”

“Fuck,” he cursed, and he grabbed the base of his dick to gently tap it against the corner of your mouth. “Better get to work, baby. You’re a lot of talk for someone that hasn’t touched me yet.”

“Say please,” you teased, and you let one of your hands move between his legs so you could cup his balls. They sat heavy in your palm, seemingly ready to explode.

“Fuck,” he repeated, adding your name at the end. “Who would have thought you had this in you?”

 Emboldened by his words, you licked at his tip, collecting the precum on his slit. “That wasn’t please.”

He clenched his jaw, eyes shutting in frustration before he finally said, “Please, baby. Please suck my dick.”

You sucked on his tip once, tongue swirling around it, before pulling away. “Good boy.”

That was Namjoon’s undoing. He let go of his dick, grabbed your head, aligning his dick with your mouth as he repeatedly cursed under his breath. You liked him like this, liked the power you had over him. So you resisted, just to piss him off further, but it only seemed to turn him into a whiny mess as begging mixed with cursing.

                Only then did you finally start sucking him off, jaw straining from how big he was. It hurt, and your eyes watered as he reached the back of your throat with not even half of him in your mouth. All you could think of was that he was going to be quite a stretch down there, too, as you looked up at his features, casted in the soft silvery glow of the moon outside.

                You pulled almost all the way out, but the hand on the back of your head held you in place, forcing you to keep him in your mouth. You played with the head of his cock with your tongue, swirling it around it, teasing the slit as the salty taste of precum filled your mouth. You moaned, softly, and Namjoon cursed once more, before falling entirely silent as he watched you take as much of him as you could again.

Once he hit the back of your throat, you swallowed, eyes watering again as you tried to hold in your gag reflex. It didn’t really work, and when you choked, Namjoon pulled out of your mouth.

“You okay?” he asked.

“You’re so big,” you praised, and you grabbed his dick with a loose grip, jerking him off slowly. Mostly, you spread your saliva on his length, wanting to make sure he was well-lubricated for what was to come.

“Why don’t you sit?” you told him, letting go of his dick.

He looked conflicted for about a second before he did. You readjusted yourself so you were kneeling between his powerful thighs, and the new position allowed you to bite at the hard muscles of his abdomen. He hissed, hand going to the back of your head as he guided you towards his dick once more.

“Suck me, baby,” he said, still sounding just as whiny.

Feeling like a brat, you replied, “What do I get in exchange?”

His forehead creased as he furrowed his eyebrows, searching for something to reply. Though Namjoon was not a man of many words, always choosing his words carefully, right now, it seemed he was entirely silenced.

“I’ll fuck you good,” he finally answered, voice low. He bent a little, grabbing your face, and his thumbs stroked your cheeks. “I’ll fuck you good until your legs shake and you can’t walk anymore. Is that a good deal?”

You bit your lip as he let go of you, once again grabbing his dick so he could hold it up for you. Not moving towards it, you rested your head on his thigh, before reaching between his legs to cup his balls. They were heavy in your palm, and you gently massaged them, earning you a soft grunt from him.

“Careful with the balls,” he warned you.

You pouted before leaning between his legs. You avoided his waiting cock, instead aiming for the base of his dick, right between his two balls. You then licked a long stripe towards the top, and Namjoon cursed as you swirled your tongue on his frenulum.

“My bad,” you then apologized, letting go of his balls as you made a mental note that they probably were too sensitive for him to enjoy. “Let me make it up to you.”

He cocked an eyebrow in question, but the second your lips wrapped around the tip of his cock and you sucked hard, he threw his head back, cursing out loud. It finally convinced you to get to work, and you replaced his hand on his dick so you could jerk him off in time with the bobbing of your head.

As big as he was, you found you couldn’t keep going for much longer. So instead of taking all of him in – or as much of him as you could – you focused on his tip, jerking him off faster after having spit in your hand. Looking up at him, you noticed his teeth digging into his lower lip, a clear indication that he was enjoying himself, and then you closed your eyes, focusing on the job at hand.

Focusing on pleasuring Kim Namjoon.

You sucked him off for a while, long enough for his dick to turn rock hard under your ministrations. Long enough for him to be a panting and cursing mess, long enough for your jaw to hurt so bad you almost thought it was going to dislocate. When the pain grew too intense, you sat back on your heels, and stroked his dick, twisting your wrist as you reached the tip.

“So big I can’t even suck you properly,” you commented.

“I’ll stretch you wide open, baby,” he said, and he leaned back on his hands as he looked down at you. “I’ll stretch you so wide you’ll cry my name.”

It was so crass your hand slowed on his dick as you clenched your thighs. “Fuck, Namjoon.”

He smirked, dimples dangerously decorating his cheeks, but an expert motion of your hand had him close his eyes, mouth falling open on a low moan.

“Should I ride you?” you asked him. “I want to feel you inside of me.”

“You’ll need me to get you ready,” he answered once he was able to look at you again. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

You almost wanted to tell him that you were going to be okay, but he wasn’t wrong. Fucking yourself on him without having been previously fingered would definitely hurt like a bitch.

“Ride my face?” he suggested as you debated what to do.

You wet your lips, desire pumping through your blood before you told him, “Lie down.”

He didn’t need to be told twice, and you quickly climbed on top of him, straddling his face. His large hands cupped your ass, squeezing and parting your cheeks as he licked a long stripe from your entrance to your clit. He flicked his tongue against the bundle of nerves, and you hissed, fingers getting lost in his hair as you pushed it out of his eyes.

You maintained eye contact as you lowered yourself on him until you were properly seated on his pretty features. His tongue parted your folds, dipping in your entrance, and you instinctively grinded. He pushed the wet muscle deep inside of you, as deep as he could before arching it, searching for your sweet spot.

When you let out a soft moan, he flicked at the same spot again, and you grinded into his face once more.

“Fuck,” you told him. “Right there.”

He understood right away, and he started fucking you with his tongue, hitting that same spot again and again, making the corners of your vision blurry. All you could focus on were his eyes between your legs, and you moaned his name as his fingers dug into the skin of your ass. It hurt a little, and you wondered for a time if he was unaware of his strength.

You wouldn’t be surprised – he was a lot stronger than you had imagined he was.

As Namjoon kept working on you, eating you out and lapping your juices, you palmed your breast, rolling the sensitive nipple between your thumb and index. The added sensation had more of your vision turning blurry, making it hard for you to focus on Namjoon. So you closed your eyes, focusing on the pleasure moving through you, and soon enough, a knot started tightening in your core.

Instinctively, you started grinding into his face, following the rhythm of his tongue inside of you, and the knot tightened and tightened, almost painfully so. When Namjoon landed a surprising slap on your ass, you lost it, knot snapping as your orgasm hit you.

You came hard, walls pulsating around Namjoon’s tongue, and he milked all of your orgasm out of you, lapping your juices as you dripped on him. When you started getting oversensitive, you moved to sit next to him instead. Namjoon didn’t move right away, catching his breath, but when he did move, it was to wipe his chin with the back of his hand. He sat up after that, catching your lips in a quick kiss that left you breathless, mind spinning with the taste of yourself.

“Now I’m going to fuck you,” Namjoon promised.

All you could do was moan as one of his large hands moved between your legs. He pushed two fingers in, and they slid right in with all the lubrication your orgasm had just brought out of you. He fingered you for a few seconds as he littered small kisses on your shoulder and up your neck, and he nibbled at your ear once he reached it.

“You’re going to take all of me, mmh?” he asked right in your ear, voice so low and husky your walls clenched around his fingers.

“Yes,” you answered.

He pulled away, smirking in satisfaction before saying, “Get on all fours. I want to look at your ass while I’m fucking you.”

“You’d like that?” you teased him. “You want to see my ass bounce while you pound into me?”

Your two sentences were enough to silence him once more, and all he managed to do in reply was nod. It made you chuckle, and before you got into position, you crawled to your bedside table, fishing a condom out of the half-empty box you owned from a previous relationship.

“Put this on,” you told Namjoon as you handed him the condom.

He looked down at your hand. “What size is that?”

You cocked an eyebrow. “Regular.”

He laughed before shaking his head at you. You were about to argue when he got up, moving to his discarded pants so he could grab his wallet. “I need bigger than that, baby,” he told you as an explanation, and you rolled your eyes playfully as you put the condom back in your bottom drawer.

Namjoon fished an appropriately-sized condom from his wallet, and he was quick to get it out of the wrapper and put it on his hard length. He hissed a little as he rolled it down his dick, but once it was in place he moved back to the bed, kneeling behind you as you propped your ass up, keeping your face down.

“Gosh, you’re so sexy like this,” he praised you. “Ever since he saw you again, I’ve been wanting to see you like this.”

A drop of warning clouded your senses for a few seconds, but when he rubbed his dick between your folds, pushing it against your clit, lust took over once more. You grabbed at the sheets as he teased the sensitive bundle of nerves again and again, and when you had enough, you cursed.

“Fuck me,” you told him. “Fuck me before I change my mind.”

He slapped your ass. “You wouldn’t do that to me, would you?”

Before you could reply, he pushed the fat tip of his cock between your folds, and you moaned at the burning sensation. It was the good kind of burning, the one that left stars dancing behind your eyelids and on the periphery of your vision. It made you clutch the sheets harder, and then Namjoon pushed in, embedding himself deep inside of you.

He grabbed your hips, fingers digging into the supple skin so hard you were pretty sure they were going to leave marks behind, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. All you did was moan loudly, especially as he pulled almost all the way out before slapping his hips forward again.

It was rough, and your body jerked forward from the impact of his pelvis on your ass. You couldn’t think, couldn’t feel anything other than the stretch between your legs, and when he started pounding into you, you felt him so deep you cried out his name.

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged you. “You take me so well.”

He slightly slowed down, but his hips still snapped forward in quick and harsh thrusts as he leaned forward, adjusting the position. When he was satisfied by the new angle, he resumed his previous speed, as one of his hands grabbed at your hair, pulling it in a makeshift ponytail so he could keep you in place.

He didn’t pull on your hair harder than that, didn’t force you look back at him, and for a moment, all that could be heard in the room was the sound of skin slapping on skin, and the moans and grunts you two were making. It was loud, and you were glad you lived in a house and not an apartment – you were pretty sure your neighbours would have heard otherwise.

When Namjoon landed another slap on your ass, you cursed loudly, and it made him still halfway out of you. He massaged the spot gently, soothing the skin with his warm fingers. “Do you want to switch position?” he asked.

As much as the current position felt good, you knew this angle would never make you cum. So you nodded your head, and Namjoon pulled out of you, sitting back on his heels. You turned towards him, and your eyes fell to his hardened length. To your juice coating the condom, and you got an idea.

“Lean back on your hands,” you ordered.

He cocked an eyebrow in question, yet he still obeyed. When he was properly positioned, you climbed on top of him, grabbing his cock to guide it towards your entrance. You help onto his shoulder with your other hand, and you slowly sunk on him until his cock hit your cervix. It hurt a little, the angle different from earlier yet making you feel so much more, and you grabbed onto his other shoulder.

“Shit,” you cursed.

“You okay?”

You nodded. “You’re so fucking deep.” And then you leaned back a little, and both of your gazes dropped to the space where your bodies were connected. To the bulge in your tummy as you slightly leaned back. “So fucking big we can see you in me.”

He moaned and threw his head back as you moved up, only to slam back down a second later. He put all of his weight on one hand, and his other settled on your waist, following you as you established a slow and sensual rhythm, rolling your hips whenever he was deep inside of you. It had his big cock rubbing against that sweet spot inside of you, and when the corners of your vision turned white, you started moving faster.

You grabbed onto his neck, not squeezing, and you felt him swallow under your palm. Your pleasure increased tenfold as the hand on your waist moved to cup your breast, and when he squeezed your nipple, you clenched your walls hard against his dick.

“Fuck,” he let out, and he looked at you.

The moment his gaze met yours, you started choking him, increasing your speed to chase your orgasm. His mouth fell open, and his dick reached deep inside of you as you kept going, kept splitting yourself on him.

When your orgasm hit, you wrapped an arm around his neck, burying your face in his shoulder. He circled your waist, fucking up into you as much as he could in this position. He rode you through your high, and you were a shaking mess when he finally slowed down, hand rubbing your back soothingly.

“Lie down for me,” he gently said.

You were too lost in ecstasy to argue, and you craved his dick the second it was out of your pussy. He wasn’t out for long, and he kneeled between your legs, holding them to his chest as he pushed in in one powerful thrust. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head with the sensation, and you moaned out his name as he established an unforgiving rhythm.

When his teeth sunk into your calf in a clear attempt to muffle his own moans, you clenched hard around him, and it was enough to get him close. To your surprise, he pulled out of you, quickly taking off the condom, and he pumped his dick, emptying his load on your stomach and pelvis. The feeling of every hot spurt on you had you reach between you, and when some landed on your fingers, you quickly brought them to your mouth, getting a taste of him.

Namjoon grunted, and he slowly decreased the rhythm of his jerking off until he was just holding his dick over you, one last drop of cum meeting the rest on your stomach. You didn’t move for a long time, both of you trying to catch your breath. It took a while, but once your pulse had stopped racing, you propped yourself up on your elbows, looking at the white mess on your stomach.

“You made quite a mess,” you teased him.

“Sorry,” he sheepishly said. “Was that okay?”

You nodded. “As long as you clean it up, yes.”

He laughed, bending so he could retrieve some tissues from your nightstand. He first cleaned his fingers, and then your stomach, making sure not to leave a single drop behind. Still, you felt sticky, and when you offered him to take a shower, he agreed right away.

You let the warm water run on your body, taking with it your sweat and Namjoon’s cum, as you ran your hands through your hair. You sighed, opening your eyes to the sight of him as he looked down at you, a fond smile on his lips.

“Can you pass me the shampoo?”

He nodded, but instead of giving it to you, he motioned for you to turn. “I’ll wash your hair.”

The domesticity of the action had your cheeks burning, and all you could do was hope he hadn’t noticed. You still turned, and when he started massaging your head, you shut your eyes, sighing in contentment. When he was done, he made you turn around so he could wash the shampoo out of your hair, making sure you didn’t get any in your eyes. After that, you switched place so he could wash his own hair, while you busied yourself with cleaning your body, erasing what was left of the action that had transpired between you and Kim Namjoon.

You didn’t speak more in the shower, though you did exchange a slow kiss once you were both entirely clean. Namjoon’s lips seemed more hesitant now, but as you wrapped your arms around his waist, it was his turn to sigh in contentment. His kiss grew more affirmative now, as if he was trying to tell you that he, too, felt a certain way with you.

Because right now, you felt like you were floating, like you were an astronaut in zero gravity. It was dizzying, but in a beautiful way as you held onto him, and he held onto you. It was filled with memories of the past, yes, but also of promises of the future.

That was when you remembered what he had said right before you had started having sex. How he had been imagining you like this ever since you had met again, thirteen years after you’d disappeared from his life. The previous wariness returned, and you pulled away from the kiss to rest your forehead on his chest. He let you do it, unaware of the drop of doubt that was solidifying into lead in your stomach.

After the shower, you lied in bed, Namjoon by your side, unable to form a sentence. Unable to breathe your worries into words, unable to share with Namjoon that you were afraid he only wanted you for sex. And you tried, you really tried to speak, but all you could do was slowly breathe in and out, trying to calm your racing heart before it burst inside your chest.

Right when you thought you had gathered enough courage, Namjoon softly snored next to you, and you realized that, after all, it was too late to share your concerns.

*****

                You stared at the scenery out of the window. You hadn’t been to Ilsan in a long time, but when Namjoon had mentioned he was going to visit his family, offering you a ride – a company official ride, considering he couldn’t drive – you hadn’t been able to say no. So you watched Ilsan from the window of your parents’ kitchen, remembering growing up.

Remembering days of childhood innocence, and of teenager crushes. Of teenager fights, and breakups that had shaped who you had turned out to be. It was strange to think that you were going to circle your way back to Namjoon, that you were going to come here to Ilsan, with him.

You hadn’t told your parents. When they had seen you arrive, they had asked how you had gotten here, considering your car was nowhere to be seen. You had lied through your teeth, saying that you had taken the train, and they hadn’t pushed, knowing that you indeed often took the train anyway, in an attempt to clear your head and sketch some ideas for your next art piece.

Instead, you had been at the back of a company car, chatting the ride away with Kim Namjoon as if it wasn’t only the tenth time you had seen him again after your breakup thirteen years ago. It was like you had never parted – complicity between Kim Namjoon and you was easy as breathing, as natural as the sun shining in the sky overhead. And the sun had shone all the way home, as if to tell you that your worries meant nothing.

But your worries were still haunting you. Hadn’t stopped haunting you since you had sex with him, chasing you through your days, taunting you through your nights. You weren’t able to escape them, especially not as he acted the way that he did.

That is, as if you were far closer than you were. As if the years hadn’t come and gone, as if thirteen years had been just the blink of an eye. It was strange to you, stranger still, that whenever you were with him, you tended to forget too. Tended to bask in his warmth, and it was no wonder your relationship was so physical.

Indeed, sometimes you even thought that it was all there was. Because each time you had seen him after your date had been physical, his body on top of yours as he fucked your brains out. As you climbed on top in an attempt to gain control, but you doubted you’d ever have the control when it came to Kim Namjoon.

So you looked outside the kitchen window, trying to remember who you were. Trying to remember what you wanted, and trying to figure out what you should eat for dinner later.

You were here for four days, and though you had brought supplies so you could paint here, hoping your childhood home would bring you inspiration, all you had been able to do was worry about Kim Namjoon and what he meant in your life.

You weren’t sure it mattered. Because even though your relationship was purely physical, it still brought you satisfaction. Always left you swimming in ecstasy, always made you sleep soundly for a few days.

It had been weeks since your date. Almost two months, actually. Namjoon had texted you regularly, though the conversation never really delved into subjects that mattered. He was too busy to hang out often, but he made you feel as if he was making time for you. Yet you couldn’t shake what he had said out of your mind.

Did you want to just be someone Kim Namjoon saw when he needed to fuck? When he needed to paint himself on you, to bring more confusion into the mess of art your mind had been since the date?

The answer was easy. No, you didn’t wish to be just that. You’d never been one to have fuck buddies, and every time you saw Namjoon, the impression was reinforced. Perhaps because he made small comments, about how he was glad he could fuck you, glad you were in his bed.

Glad you moaned out his name whenever you came, and evidently, he made you come plenty enough. But yet you needed more, and you hated yourself for it.

Why complicate something that was so easy? So you remained silent, never said anything, though you did hold onto him as much as you could when you slept in his arms, trying to remind yourself that if he just wanted sex, he wouldn’t sleep over, or ask you to stay.

Would he have offered to drive you to Ilsan if you were nothing to him? You highly doubted so. Especially considering how he had talked to you, how comfortable he was next to you.

You sighed, looking away from the window as you turned towards the living room. Your father was napping on the couch, and your mother had gone to the market, declining your offer to come with as she had claimed you needed to work on your paintings.

You had been staring at the canvas for an hour before you had come to the kitchen to grab a glass of water, and you had already finished it as you had watched the world outside the kitchen window, lost in thought. You figured taking a walk would help clear your mind, and you hoped you’d find inspiration by the time you were back home.

Though the weather was warmer outside than it was weeks ago, when you had your date with Namjoon, you still wrapped a thick scarf around your neck, burying yourself in the warm coat you had brought here. You put on your Chelsea boots, and the minute you stepped outside, you loosened the scarf.

The air smelled fresh and hinted at spring. There was no snow, most of it having melted under the peculiar warmth, and by the time you made it to the end of the street, you unzipped your coat too, feeling too hot.

You turned to your left, bowing your head slightly at the older couple that you passed. They reciprocated, but you didn’t pay attention to them more than necessary as you walked towards the park behind your middle school. The middle school where you and Namjoon had first fallen in love when you were dumb and young.

Ten minutes later, the building came into view, and memories swarmed in, chasing Namjoon out of your thoughts. Well, chasing current Namjoon out of your thoughts as you remembered your classes, and the teacher that you had always hated. As you remembered sitting on the bleachers of the soccer field, chatting the evening away when you were supposed to be home.

It was no surprise that you found yourself making your way to those bleachers, and you sat as high as you could, eyeing the empty field. It was the middle of the week, and the soccer field was empty save for birds searching for worms in the wet grass.

You leaned back on your hands so you could look up, gazing at the few clouds in the sky. Wind played with your hair, blowing it in your face, but you ignored it, focusing on the fresh air. Your eyes fluttered shut, and you inhaled deeply.

You were calm and content... until you let out a startled cry as someone said your name. Your eyes flew open to the sight of Kim Namjoon at the bottom of the bleachers, looking up at you.

“You scared the shit out of me,” you told him, hand on your racing heart. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just out on a walk,” he informed you. “Didn’t expect to run into you.”

He walked up the bleachers, sitting next to you before you replied. “Your parents are bothering you?” you teased, gently nudging him.

“Nah,” he said, laughing. “I’ve been songwriting since I got here? Can’t get this song right, so I decided to walk. Thought it’d help clear my mind.”

Of course, he was out and about for the same reason as you. Because you and Kim Namjoon were far more similar than you wanted to believe it. Sometimes, it led you to think that you were two of the same person, and usually, whenever you thought that you had to rein yourself in, reminding yourself that all he did with you was have sex.

“Couldn’t paint,” you admitted.

“Your parents are bothering you?” he asked, repeating your question with a corner smile and a single dimple.

This time, you pushed him, laughing before replying, “You’re annoying.”

He grinned, though you both fell silent as your gazes moved up to the sky, and you enjoyed the afternoon warmth. You knew the night would get cold, but you still had a few more hours of sunlight before the world gave way to darkness.

“You know,” he said as your eyes chased a white cloud on the cerulean expanse of the sky. “I was hoping we could hang out, while we’re here?”

He said it like a question, as if asking for permission, and it had your heart race in your chest. “Aren’t you afraid of your parents asking questions?”

“Not really,” he answered. “They know that you came with me. They want me to invite you over for dinner.”

Your gaze widened as it dropped to him. He was already looking at you, a small, hopeful smile on his lips. “Is that something that we’re supposed to be doing?” you enquired.

It seemed to take him by surprise. “What do you mean?”

You reckoned now was a good time as any to voice your concerns. Perhaps because the scene was familiar, safe, and you couldn’t deal with the concern gnawing at your nerves anymore.

“What are we, exactly?” you said, softly, finally giving voice to the worries.

Namjoon’s eyes went round as blush crept on his cheeks. “What?”

The drop of lead from that first date grew inside of you. “It’s just… we’ve only been hanging out for sex, correct?”

“Is that what it is for you?” he enquired after a few seconds of silence, of him just watching you with a somber expression.

You chuckled awkwardly. “To be entirely honest, I don’t do this. So no, I’d hope it’s not that, but…” you trailed off, eyes falling to the field in front of you. “You haven’t really made me feel like you’re in this for more than just sex.”

He leaned forward as if trying to gain your attention. As your gaze remained stubbornly on the empty field, he said your name once. His voice was soft, gentle, and that, more than anything, made you turn to look at him.

“I thought we were… dating?” he admitted. “I… I’m sorry if I just… assumed?”

It was such a Namjoon thing to do that you couldn’t even blame him. His revelation made the lead melt away to be replaced by a sweet warmth much like the one the sun rays carried. “Oh?”

As you didn’t say anything else, Namjoon straightened, putting a little distance between the two of you. “Unless that’s not what you want?”

In truth, yes, it probably was what you had been wanting since the beginning. Since he had arrived at your house with the flowers before the date, and since his lips had found yours for the first time again after thirteen years apart. You had been wanting him, more than just physically.

“I mean…” You chuckled awkwardly again, shrugging your shoulders. “Yes, that’s what I want.”

He grinned, dimples flashing blindingly, even more so than the sun in the sky up above. “Good. So you’ll come over for dinner?”

This time you laughed, and you cocked an eyebrow. “With just a few hours notice?”

“Yeah?” He shrugged. “My parents already know you, what does it change?”

And when you held his soft gaze, you decided why not? Why not dive in feet first, and not care about the consequences?

You doubted there’d be anything negative to come out of a dinner with Namjoon’s parents. And turned out you were right – both of them were happy to see you, and Namjoon’s mom kept repeating how proud she was that Namjoon had found you again, in Seoul. To Namjoon’s dismay, she told you about just how much Namjoon had cried after your breakup, and about how much it had encouraged him to become a rapper. Namjoon was red up to the tip of his ears as you looked at him, yet he didn’t scold his mother, didn’t tell her to stop.

And this, most of all, was the Namjoon you remembered from thirteen years ago. A shy, sweet boy who was always good to his elders, always polite and ready to help. He did help his mother, doing the dishes along with you after you’d eaten, and when it was time for you to leave, his father scolded him and told him to walk you home.

Namjoon grumbled that he was already going to do so, and you said your goodbyes to his parents before walking out into the night. It was a lot colder than it had been during the day, and you buried your hands in the pockets of your coat as you walked close to Namjoon, his arm brushing yours with every step that you took.

“Sorry about that,” Namjoon apologized.

You glanced up at him, gazing at the aura around his head caused by the streetlight behind him. “About what?”

He shrugged. “The dinner. I didn’t expect my parents to be weird about it.”

“They weren’t,” you reassured him. You walked in silence for a time, eyes moving back to the street in front of you. It was empty, even though it wasn’t particularly late at night. Perhaps it rendered you bolder, because you said, “I’m really happy I said yes. I missed them.”

He smiled, softly. “They missed you too.”

A comfortable silence moved between you, and you basked in it as you made your way home, with your teenage lover by your side. It was hard to believe that he was next to you right now, and just like that, you knew what you were going to paint when you were home.

“The night is beautiful,” Namjoon said softly. “Makes it feel like we never left, you know?”

“Like it hasn’t been thirteen years, right?”

He nodded. “The weight of the years does feel lesser since we’ve reconnected.”

His words had warmth blossom in your chest, heating up your body in the cold early spring night. They had you glance at him, and when you found him already looking at you, you stopped. He stopped just a step ahead of you, turning to look at you.

“Do you think we were just right people, wrong time?” you asked. “I’ve been thinking… it’s been so easy with you, since our date. It’s strange to believe that it would be, no?”

“The years haven’t changed us as much as you’d imagined they would,” he agreed. “Like…” he glanced up at the sky, searching for words to voice his feelings. “BTS came into my life after you. I’d say it changed me, made me grow up far faster than I thought I would. Being the leader and all, I had a lot of responsibilities on me, you know?”

You nodded, not really knowing where he was going.

“Sometimes I wish I didn’t have to be the leader,” he continued, revealing something you weren’t sure he had said out loud to anyone before. “I wish I didn’t have this weight on me and… in November, when I saw you again, I was going through a hard time. I didn’t entirely recognize you at first, but I was drawn to your gallery again and… I tried to find a reason to visit. To find a reason to talk to you.”

His eyes met yours again, and you almost balked at the intensity of his gaze.

“I felt lighter with you than I’d felt in years. So, when you say right people, wrong time, I think you’re right. I think thirteen years ago was all fucked up for us, but I think we were always meant to find each other again, through all the craziness of the world.”

You didn’t hesitate. You grabbed the lapels of his coat, pulling him down in a kiss. He kissed you back instantly, though his lips were slow against yours. Soft, anchoring you in this moment, in this space that had used to be yours when you were younger. He kissed you like time had slowed for you, like you had all night to stay right here, in this spot.

Your heart found a soothing rhythm in your chest, one echoed in his own ribcage, and his large hands found your waist to pull you closer. When he slipped his tongue in your mouth, you sighed dreamily, the taste of him so heavenly now that the lead in your stomach was gone that you thought you were going to start flying right here, right now.

Namjoon pulled away, resting his forehead against yours, and your breaths moved up in the sky, forming a single cloud over your heads.

“Had I known that you were worried I wasn’t into you like this, I wouldn’t have had sex with you every time we hung out,” he admitted, softly.

That, more than anything else, finished reassuring you.

“Hey,” you let out. “It’s okay. I should have spoken to you about it before.”

He pecked your lips once more before pulling away. He offered you his hand, and you gently took it as he smiled at you, his dimples so familiar on his cheeks that you wanted to drown in him.

“Let’s get you home,” he said. “I wouldn’t want your parents to worry.”

“I’m an adult now,” you reminded him, earning a laugh as he pulled you towards your house.

He shrugged. “They are still your parents; they’ll always worry for you.”

His words held truth, so you didn’t resist as he finished walking you home. You stood in front of the gate, looking at each other, and Namjoon gently brushed a strand of hair behind your ear. His fingers grazed down your face until they rested on your jaw, and he leaned down to press another gentle kiss on your lips, one that had you wish you didn’t have to part with him for the night.

One day, you liked to believe you wouldn’t have to part at all.

*****

                Being in a relationship with Kim Namjoon was easy. The weeks following your trip to Ilsan had you growing ever so closer, and you accompanied him to a dinner with all of his members. There, you saw what it meant for him to be the leader, but you kept your hand in his, bearing the weight of it along with him, even though it wasn’t like he had to keep them in check in private.

You had left early as you needed to go to your studio early in the morning, but had been unable to part with Namjoon, which wasn’t all that surprising to you or him. You both liked sharing a bed, liked the closeness that it allowed you. So you stayed the night, and the next day you made your way to your studio level-headed, ready to paint all day after your meeting with your manager. Your phone was dead, but you knew she wasn’t one to miss a meeting, and you figured you could always charge your phone when you got to the studio.

To your surprise, Sooah wasn’t alone when you got there. There was a suit-clad man, and he bowed his head at you respectfully as you walked in. You threw a curious look to Sooah, and the expression on her face made your heart drop to your ass, if that was possible.

“Hi,” the man politely said. “I’m glad you’ve finally showed up.”

He sounded annoyed, and it grated your nerves right away. You cocked an eyebrow before saying, “To whom do I owe the pleasure?”

“I am Jo Jonghyuk,” he answered, offering his hand for you to shake. “Hybe representative.”

You let out a nervous chuckle. “What’s bringing you here?

Sooah was the one to answer. “There’s been leaked pictures of you and Namjoon,” she informed you carefully. “They are… all over the media this morning.”

A drop of cold sweat rolled down your spine. “Excuse me?”

You hadn’t noticed it before, but the man had a briefcase. He quickly opened it, getting a stack of papers out of it that he handed to you unceremoniously. You looked at them, eyes widening as you saw the series of pictures, all of them of you and Namjoon.

And your face was far too recognizable. You couldn’t pretend it wasn’t you, couldn’t pretend you had no idea what the man was talking about. So when he asked if there was a space where you could sit down to discuss, you let Sooah suggest heading downstairs. You followed them with fear in your gut, and even when you were sitting on the couches downstairs, you still couldn’t stop your heart from racing in your chest.

“So,” the man said. “We’re aware that our artists have lives outside of the company.” He paused, watching you carefully. “But we need to preserve their image. I’m sure you can understand?”

Sooah saved you by replying. “What is that supposed to mean for Y/n?”

“Namjoon is currently in a meeting with other representatives. He will be asked the same thing as you,” the man offered as an explanation.

You cocked an eyebrow. “And what is it that I’m going to be asked?”

“Keep the relationship behind closed doors.” The man motioned around you. “As an artist, I’m sure you understand how one’s image is important. The stocks are going to be impacted if it is said that Kim Namjoon is in a relationship, and not for the better. We are going to release a statement later in the day to refute the rumours.”

It wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be, yet you still felt sick, down to your very core. “And this needed an early morning meeting?”

You’d like to think that you sounded arrogant, defiant, but your voice was filled with nerves, shaking pathetically.

The man offered you a polite smile. “No. I’m here to have you sign an NDA.”

That made more sense. And still, it wasn’t as bad as you expected it to be – it wasn’t like you were going to scream about your relationship with Namjoon. After all, it still was fairly new, and you also wanted to preserve your anonymity.

In that instant, as the man pulled out said NDA from his briefcase, you understood something. Your anonymity was gone, gone like the winds of winter as the world outside slowly turned to spring.

Your face was visible in the pictures. People had seen you around the gallery, outside of official events, when you wore your mask.

You signed with a trembling hand, barely recognizing your own name on the paper, and the man offered you a copy of it before saying that he had to go. He thanked you for your cooperation on the way out, and when he was gone, disappearing at the bend in the street, you turned towards Sooah.

“I’m fucked,” you said.

She pursed her lips, concern moving on her features. “You are not. There’s no indication that people will associate you with Maehwa. I don’t think this will affect the gallery.”

You shook your head. “You don’t understand.” You scoffed, gaze dropping to the floor as the lead you had felt after your first date with Namjoon rematerialized, turning into a reality you didn’t think you were ready to gaze at. “It’s just a matter of time. His fandom discovers everything. They will know it’s me.”

“Then we’ll use it as publicity.”

Your eyes widened as you looked at your manager. “You can’t be serious.”

“Your art is beautiful,” she reminded you. “You’ve been building your reputation for years. Why would you being a human, having relationships, impact it?” She paused as if to give weight to her question. “It’s just going to put emphasis to the emotion in your art. People won’t see you as a masked individual anymore, but rather as the person behind the artist.”

You didn’t want to hear her. Knew she was being rational, yet couldn’t bear the truth in her words. Perhaps because you had always loved your anonymity. Always wanted to keep it, to use it to protect yourself from the world of fame, a world you had never wanted for yourself.

No, you just wanted to make art. To enjoy the science behind the pieces, the emotions that made you create. You were afraid it was going to be taken from you now. And who were you to blame? It was just a question of time before people connected the dots between you and Namjoon, thanks to the pictures, yes, but also to the interview that had yet to be released.

“Deep breaths,” Sooah said calmly, cutting through your spiraling. “I promise it’ll be okay.”

“What if it’s not?” you asked. “What if I can’t paint anymore?”

“You’ve been painting your whole life,” she reminded you. “You won’t suddenly stop because of rumours about you.”

See, that was the logical way to think about it. You clung to the words, held them close to your heart and let them replay in your head. It eased the anxiety that was building inside of you, and soon enough, your frantic breathing returned to normal.

“Shit.”

Sooah raised her eyebrows, waiting to make sure your spiraling truly was over. When you didn’t say anything else, she nodded once, patting you on the shoulder. “It’s all going to work out. And besides, congrats on your relationship with Namjoon?”

She said it like a question because, frankly, you hadn’t told Miyoung or Sooah a lot about you and Namjoon, except that you were taking things slow. It was the best you had been able to come up with, back when you thought he was only seeking carnal union with you, and you hadn’t changed the narrative after you and Namjoon had made it official in Ilsan.

And later, as you worked on the painting you had started in Ilsan, you pictured the cold night, when he had kissed you under the streetlamps. When you had realized that you had truly been wrong all along, that life was a cycle bringing you back to him. Back to where it had all started. You remembered his soft lips on yours, and that, most of all, finished calming you down from the anxiety.

Every stroke of your brush on the canvas, every new line, meant a thousand words, as you painted. As you created art from nothing but the memories your art held, as you put them together to form the image that had come to you that cold night. It was beautiful, in a heavy kind of way, because the emotions were heavy. The love, the recognition and the knowledge of life and the cycle of it, all entwined together to form something that only you and Namjoon could understand.

And as you worked, forgetting all about the world outside, all about the threat to your anonymity, you believed everything was going to be alright…

Almost.

*****

                “Thank you,” you thanked the young girls after they were done perusing your gallery.

It had taken all but a few hours for your artist self to be associated with Kim Namjoon and your gallery. On the same day, you had received more visitors than you had ever had, and though you had donned your mask, you knew it was pointless.

Knew from the looks and the whispers that people knew. Still, for the next following days, you kept wearing your mask. Kept trying to ignore how people weren’t here for your art anymore, but rather for you as a person. For your connection to Kim Namjoon, for what you meant to him and what he meant to you.

Namjoon had been understanding when you had told him how anxious the situation was making you. Had suggested avoiding public spaces altogether, and so far, you had only been able to see him once for dinner two days ago.

The dinner had been spent in far more silence than usual, while you both contemplated what this meant for you. You had settled on really taking it slow, letting the rumours die of their own volution instead of doing more about them. Because Hybe had released a statement, and already Dispatch was on the newest rumour, forgetting all about your possible connection with Kim Namjoon.

Except for the fans, that is. Because the fans came to your gallery, complimented your art, though you did see them snickering in your back. Before, you had believed you were above this, above petty gossiping and jealous bullying, especially coming from younger people. After all, younger people were that – young, and youth often held an amount of stupidity that was rarely found elsewhere.

As it had been the case for you and Namjoon, thirteen years ago.

Still, you found you were increasingly anxious, and instead of expecting Namjoon’s next message, his next call, you started dreading them. It was vicious, poisoning your blossoming relationship without him even being aware of it.

How could you blame him? He was used to this life, after all.

You sighed in your mask, hating the way your eyes burned. They burned more now that you wore the mask more often, drying out whenever you breathed out too strongly. You had gotten artificial tears, and you couldn’t wait to be able to lubricate your eyes as you watched the last few people milling about your gallery.

It was almost closing time, and you were looking forward to it more than you usually did. Mostly because you wanted to bask in calmness and silence for a while, if only to be able to get a grip on the anxiety.

Two older women approached you, hands behind their backs, where you stood by the big painting of Ilsan. They bowed politely, and to your relief, asked you if one of the pieces was for sale. Art enthusiasts, then. It was reassuring to see some of them in your gallery, even after all the recent events.

“Yes,” you answered them politely. “It’s currently on auction for the month. You can put in your own bid if you’d like.”

The smallest one pursed her lips, tilting her head to the side. “How expensive was the last bid?”

Even though this was supposed to be Sooah’s job, you still had access to the app where the bidding took place. So you took your phone out of your pocket, heart dropping in your chest when the screen lit up to show you three texts from Namjoon. You ignored them, swiping the phone open before clicking on the app.

As it loaded, you looked up to smile at the women. “Just a moment.”

They nodded in understanding, yet one of them looked over her shoulder as if annoyed. You felt bad, but it wasn’t like you controlled the technology. All you could do was wait, and the second the app opened, you scrolled down to the current bidding.

You hadn’t checked it since the bidding had started. Lowest bid had been set at 5 million won, but right now, the number you were reading on the screen didn’t even make any sense.

“Huh,” you let out, and you looked at the women, chuckling awkwardly. “It seems the bid for this piece has gone out of the roof.”

That was putting it lightly. Because, looking at the amount on your phone, you believed the bid had been sent to outer orbit.

The smaller woman winced. “How high?”

“1.2 billion won,” you replied. You checked your phone to make sure and even showed the screen to them.

“Oh,” she said. “We can’t afford that.”

You offered them an apologetic smile. “I have more pieces that are on sale and not on auction if you want me to show you.”

The one that seemed like she wanted to leave suddenly widened her gaze. “Oh, that would be lovely.”

They ended up buying a smaller drawing, saying that they were sure the value of it would skyrocket if they ever wanted to sell it. You wanted to tell them that it probably was just a bubble caused by the rumour and that it’d soon burst. Evidently, you couldn’t tell them that, both because of the NDA and because you were growing tongue-tied with the praise they were sending your way. Instead, all you did was offer them a wink, saying that you hoped they’d hold onto it dearly, and then you walked them to the door as it was closing time anyway.

When the door was locked behind them, you leaned against it, sighing shakily. With trembling hands, you fished your phone out of your pocket, and you went through the different pieces you had on auction. Half of the profits were going to a charity for abused women, and still, it’d leave you with much more money than you ever thought you’d own.

You called Sooah, but it was her day off. You didn’t expect her to pick up, as she had told you she was going to be busy tonight, and of course, she didn’t. You still sent her a text to tell her to check the auction app, and then you pushed up from the door, heading to your studio downstairs.

You sat cross-legged on the floor, amidst the brushes and pots of paint you had left hanging around, not really caring about cleaning after yourself when you were in the arms of inspiration. But right now, the mess was making you feel like an imposter, like people would soon find out that you weren’t worth it.

It was then that you finally checked what Namjoon had sent you.

I hope all is well, his first message read. It was followed by, I’ll be in the studio until later tonight, but would you like to hang out after? Finally, his last message was, I’m going to come over to your studio after closing hour with take-out

For some reason, the thought of him coming here made you want to disappear through the floor, but it was already too late. Indeed, your phone started vibrating in your hand with an upcoming call, and his name on the screen taunted you, telling you that, yes, you were just an imposter.

You picked up, hands shaking slightly as you brought the phone to your ear.

“Busy night,” Namjoon said as a greeting.

You let out a shaky breath. “Yeah. You’re on your way?”

“I’m outside,” he admitted. “Just waiting for some people to walk away before I come in. I assume it’s locked?”

You nodded, even though he couldn’t see you. “I’ll come open for you.”

There was an awkward silence as if he expected you to say something more. When you didn’t, he said, “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you lied, and cringed at yourself. You weren’t a liar, hated lying, and lying to him felt like you were eating something foul. “Just tired.”

“Well, I hope you’re excited for some take-out. I got your favourite.”

Now, your heart ached in your chest. Because that was Namjoon. Namjoon would always get your favourite food, would always know what to do to cheer you up. Tonight, it felt wrong, as if you didn’t deserve it.

And really, did you deserve it at all? Did you deserve the attention that he had brought to you? Did you deserve the shine in the spotlight?

You highly doubted so.

Walking upstairs felt like a trek to the top of Mount Everest. You were aware that it was anxiety, that you probably shouldn’t listen to the thoughts right now. But they were taunting you, haunting you, a thousand little ghosts spinning around your head in dizzying circles until all that was left was a broken piece of you.

The sight of Namjoon, hood up and mask on, on the other side of the door wasn’t a relief. It was a hand clutching your throat, choking you up until you were left gasping for air on the ground. You stalled for a few seconds, and you wondered if he could feel your hesitancy. If he knew the spirals you had been going down, if he knew you were questioning everything.

You clenched your jaw, sighed deeply, and somehow a small spark of light split the darkness. Because this was Namjoon. This was the same Namjoon as a decade ago. The first boy you had ever loved – could he still really just be that today?

Finally, you walked over to the door, unlocked it and opened it for him. His dragon eyes were unreadable, but they were questioning. You felt as if they were asking questions to your soul directly and, ever bared in front of him, you were pretty sure your soul was answering.

“Hey baby,” he greeted you as he walked in, and you quickly shut the door and locked it behind him.

“Hi,” you said, voice vulnerable in the midst of your anxiety.

“You’ve been busy?” he asked, the soothing tone of his voice dragging a gentle hand on your back, telling you that maybe, maybe if you could let go of the anxiety, everything would be okay.

But could you, when its talons had sunk so deep into your heart you couldn’t quite tell if it was still beating?

“Yeah,” you answered. “I’ve been working on a piece and… didn’t see the time fly.”

He nodded understandingly. “Of course. That’s why I brought food.”

And that was how you found yourself sitting next to him on the couch in your studio, eyes trailing to your piece of art. You wondered if he could see your anxiety in the swirls of darker colours on the canvas. Could he tell you were haunted?

Could he be the solution?

“I think my album is going to be good,” he said as he swallowed the fried chicken he was eating. “You’re going to love it.”

You pursed your lips, not willing to tell him that you’d always loved whatever he made, even back then. “Of course.”

He flashed you a smile, but you could see that it wasn’t quite reaching his eyes. He didn’t say anything though, and you both finished eating in silence. When you were done, Namjoon sat back in the couch, letting out a long sigh as one of his hands gently landed on your thigh. You immediately tensed, and his hand slid away, fingers flexing as if they wished they could hold onto you, but knew it was best not to.

“What’s on your mind?” he asked, his deep voice surrounding you, echoes reverberating through the fabric of your soul.

Could you tell him? Could you be honest with Kim Namjoon, or would it make him run away?

A scary thought formed in your mind, coming from the dirtiest part of your soul. Would it be better if he ran away?

“A lot,” you admitted, unable to hide the truth from him. “Quite a lot.”

You met his gaze for a few seconds before finding solace in your painting again.

“You know you can talk to me,” he gently said.

“I know.”

But you couldn’t. You didn’t want to have to tell him that this was all too much for you. That it was too quick, that you felt like you were stuck in a train aiming for a wall at top speed.

“I’m sorry,” he said after the silence had stretched so much, you thought it was about to rip the fabric of reality itself.

“What for?” you asked, genuinely wondering.

He leaned his elbows on his knees, pulling at some calluses on his palm that he got from working out without gloves on. “We haven’t really talked about the rumours.”

You hadn’t. Hadn’t even mentioned anything once, preferring to act as if it had never happened. Foolishly, you’d hoped that it would preserve your anonymity, even after it was gone. Even after the first fans stepped foot in your gallery, even after you’d seen articles about you in the press.

“Yeah.”

“Is that what’s on your mind?” he asked, and he turned his head towards you.

From this angle, it was entirely too hard to avoid his gaze. Instead, you latched onto it, hoping it would make everything better.

“It might be,” you said. You sighed, wetting your lips before you added, “It is.”

“How have you been feeling?”

You weren’t sure there was a way to answer the question. Because you didn’t want him to know just how bad the anxiety had gotten, didn’t want him to know that your life changing so much in such a short amount of time was the scariest thing that had ever happened to you.

“Stressed,” you answered, deciding to use a lesser word in the hope that it wouldn’t hurt him too much. “Especially now that the anonymity is gone.”

He nodded. “I was expecting that to happen.”

You cocked an eyebrow, but found yourself unable to say anything else.

“I’m sorry I took that away from you,” he murmured, and a flash of pain in his eyes told you that he really was.

That Kim Namjoon felt guilty when it came to you, more than he had probably ever felt guilty about anything in life.

“You didn’t mean to,” you reassured him. Because it was the truth – you couldn’t be angry at him for what had happened. You had been part of it just as much as him.

“But it’s still my fault,” he added. “It’s because of me if the media has been after you.”

“It’s not because of you.” You paused, searching for the right words to convey the meaning you wanted. “It’s not you as a person, but rather what you mean to the world.”

You slightly winced, convinced that you had somehow landed on the wrong words after all.

“Possibly,” he said. He sighed, before once again sitting back on the couch. His fingers twitched before he clenched them on his thighs, visibly resisting the urge to do something.

To touch you, you assumed.

“Possibly,” he repeated. “But it’s hard to separate the person that I am from the person that I mean to others. To me, it’s just me, both of these.”

You nodded, because you already knew that. Namjoon was authentic through and through, with everything that he did and was. With every single one of his words – he was a cool-minded reflective person, and it was one of the things you liked the most about him. Maybe because it was such a stark contrast from when he was young, blood boiling at any minor inconvenience.

Maybe because it was an anchor in an otherwise stormy life.

“I know,” you said. “And that’s why I don’t believe it’s your fault. You didn’t mean for any of that to happen. And neither did I.”

“Still sucks that it did.”

You’d never heard a truer sentence before. And it was rhetorical, didn’t mean for a reply. All that you could do was nod, gaze escaping from his to find your wriggling fingers in your lap. A new silence stretched between you, still as heavy. Heavier than gravity – was it going to form a black hole between you and him?

“What’s that painting you’ve been working on?” he asked.

You glanced towards the art. Observed the paler backdrop, the painting that you had started in Ilsan. Your anxiety had splashed swirls of darker blue over it, adding melancholy to it that you’d never really visited in your art before.

“Something to get my mind off the edge,” you admitted. “I’ve been trying to pour my thoughts into it. To escape reality for a time.”

Maybe it had been the wrong thing to say. Weeks later, you’d look back on this moment and realize that it was the catalyst to the destruction. But right this instant, you couldn’t even think past the words.

“To escape?” he prodded.

You nodded. “Don’t you use music as an escape?”

“Yeah,” he said, but somehow his voice was flat.

It brought your attention back to him, and you noticed his eyes on you. Noticed the grief that your words had instilled behind his pupils, hiding somewhere in the deep brown of his gaze.

“So I assume you must understand.”

He didn’t answer right away. Held your gaze as if time had stopped, and maybe it should have. Maybe time should have been kind to you and him, in its chronology.

“If you need an escape from this,” he said, motioning vaguely between you and him, “maybe we shouldn’t be doing it at all.”  

Your heart stopped in your chest, turning cold. Anxiety flooded in, washing away everything that you once were. You felt naked, young, as if you’d gone back in time and were watching him walk away again.

“I never said I needed an escape from us,” you said, and the venom in your voice surprised both you and him.

“Are you happy right now?” he enquired. In a whisper, as if it was the scariest thing. And scary words could never be uttered too loud – wouldn’t they just break everything in their wake?

“I’m not sure.” You saw the flash of hurt on his face, and you quickly rushed to add, “I’m just so anxious.”

“I’ve been making you feel anxious?”

You shook your head. “No. Not you. The situation. The sudden fame. The spotlight and my art being sold at crazy prices. The fact that I have to worry about paparazzi, about what I do or say. It’s so sudden.”

Namjoon didn’t reply right away. Instead, he looked at you, gaze heavy with feelings you couldn’t quite put your finger on. Maybe it was understanding – because of course he’d understand what you were going through. He was going through it too, though he’d known this life for years now.

“I’m sorry I brought this to you,” he eventually chose to say, carefully. As if he was aware you were fragile glass right now, one wrong move and you’d explode into a million tiny little shards. “I can take it away easily,” he claimed.

You cocked an eyebrow, because was he offering you salvation? You highly doubted he could.

“How?”

He pursed his lips, features turning apologetic for a time. “We break up. We go our separate ways, I get the rumours off your back. No one’s going to be after you anymore if they think I’m with someone else.”

The loudest sound in the universe was your heartbeat, in that instant. It was so loud even your thoughts became distant little specks, unable to break the wall of sound.

“What?”

He sighed, shrugging. As if he was giving up, as if he’d given up even before he’d gotten here. “If being with me makes you so anxious,” he started. “And by that, I mean not me as a person. What I mean to the world, or whatever it is that you said earlier. If it makes you too anxious, I’m just going to remove myself from the situation.”

Were you stupid, for being unable to reply anything other than ‘what?’ again? Perhaps you were. Especially as he scoffed this time around, and something started aching in your chest, differently than it was before.

“I think it’s better for you if we break up,” Namjoon explained. When you remained silent this time around, he slowly shut his eyes, head hanging low. “I don’t think I could reassure you enough when it comes to your anxiety for us to be able to be together.”

Your heart felt as if it had slowed down in your chest, so much so that the world surrounding you turned silent, soundless. You heard the breath of air that you took in, cringing as it did nothing to ease the slowly rising panic in you.

“I don’t want us to break up,” you said, murmured, though the moment the words crossed the threshold of your lips you realized that perhaps this had been what you were aiming for all along.

“I can’t date someone that gets so anxious just because they’re with me,” he answered, and he looked truly apologetic. Guilty too, as if he had committed the worst crime humanity could witness.

And perhaps breaking a heart truly was the worst crime out there.

It felt unlike Namjoon. You’d gotten the impression that he was someone reliable, someone cool-headed who’d be able to support you, to help you go through your anxiety. But as you stared at him, sitting there on the couch in your studio, you realized that he, too, struggled with his own anxiety. Had probably struggled with a lot of it in the past, so much so that he couldn’t afford to put himself in a situation where he’d only get bad again.

The only solution appeared like a dark cloud looming over the horizon of your conscience. You wished wind could blow it away, wished you were strong enough to manage your anxiety without losing him, but you knew it’d be easier once he was gone. Knew your sleep wouldn’t be as troubled, knew you’d be able to dwindle away into anonymity once more.

You had to let him go. For your sake, mostly, but for his too. Because he deserved someone who could shine with him in his spotlight, someone who’d be able to accept all of him, including his fame. And that just wasn’t you.

“Namjoon…”

“It’s hard for me too, you know?” he added. “To watch the person that I love getting worse every day, knowing that I’m the cause of it. Y/n…” he paused, and this time he was the one to look away. “I haven’t even seen you smile in weeks. Ever since the rumours.” He shook his head. “Even before that. I’m not sure you’ve been happy since we started dating.”

“That’s not true,” you declared, trying to put as much conviction in your words as you possibly could. “I was happy in Ilsan. I was happy when we came back, too. It really is just the sudden fame that’s been throwing me off.”

You were relieved you’d finally found words to explain your anxiety. And somehow, them slowly falling out of your mouth eased the anxiety, eased the fear.

But you knew you were going to let him go.

“Then we take a break,” he continued. “I don’t want to be the source of something negative in someone’s life. We take a break, let the rumours dwindle away, and when it’s safe, we can try again.”

Your eyes blurred with tears. If he saw them, he ignored it, instead focusing on the calluses in his hands again.

“If that is what you want, I’m not going to force you to stay with me,” you said, voice small in the enormity of what was happening.

He scoffed. “What I want is just impossible. This is just second best.”

“Breaking up with me is second best?” you asked, anger and bitterness swirling under the surface of your ache. “It’s that easy for you?”

He frowned, meeting your gaze again. “Who said it was easy?”

“You’re the one that claims it’s a good thing. Second best.”

At that, he rolled his eyes, slowly shaking his head again. “This is not what I meant.”

Maybe your anxiety was winning against you, maybe the knowledge that you had to let him go was stronger than anything else. Because you couldn’t watch him anymore. Couldn’t gaze at his deep brown eyes anymore, knowing that they’d become ghosts in your memory in just a few moments.

A few moments of breaking, of a glass heart dropped to a stone-cold floor.

“Then leave, Joon,” you said, voice unwavering even though you felt like ice was clutching your entire being. “Let’s take this break, let’s see if it’s better for both of us.”

The dark cloud rolled closer, engulfing you. Especially as he didn’t fight more. As he nodded his head, got up and motioned towards the stairs. As if that was enough when he was dropping you, giving up on you.

But weren’t you giving up on him just as much?

That night, you sat cross-legged in front of your canvas, watching the opened paint pots littering the floor around you. When your eyes slid back towards the canvas, a single tear escaped the confines of your eyelids, rolling along your cheek.

Deep brown eyes looked back at you, shining with their own unshed tears, reminders of where you failed in the timeline of your life.

*****

Thirteen years ago

                You were going to kill Kim Namjoon. You would kill him, and be happy about it.

You’d heard from a friend of a friend that he had been hanging out with a certain Jeon Yuri, a beautiful, popular girl that had every reason to be liked by a guy like Namjoon. It was understandable – everyone loved Yuri.

Only, Yuri hated you. Always did, and took to insulting you in that covert way of hers that made people think she was complimenting them. But you saw right through her – you knew she was just a conniving rich girl. So you hated her back, with all the hate your little heart could summon.

To think Namjoon was hanging out with her? You’d kill him for it.

So you waited outside the gates of your childhood home for him to show up. You had been waiting there for a while already – partly because you needed to cool off, but also because you wanted to avoid your parents’ questions. Because obviously they loved Namjoon.

Everyone loved Namjoon, and everyone loved Yuri. You knew you were going to hate the both of them.

Namjoon arrived with a smile on his face, dimples flashing as if they’d get you to fold, to forgive him. To be fair, he did not know about your history with Yuri, as you never spoke about it to anyone. But when he saw your features, his smile immediately crumbled, replaced by worry.

“What’s wrong?” he instantly asked as he stopped in front of you.

“What’s wrong?” you repeated, before scoffing. “Why did I have to hear from Kim Haru that you’re hanging out with Jeon Yuri?”

His brows furrowed. “What’s wrong with hanging out with her?”

Your eyes widened and your fists landed on your hips. “Everything? She’s just a bitch.”

“Excuse me, what?” Namjoon let out, and you could tell by the reddening of his cheeks that he was already getting worked up too. “You told me to never call a girl a bitch and now you’re doing it?”

You rolled your eyes so far back you thought you could see your brain. “It’s not the same thing.”

He scoffed, in that condescending way of his that he always used when he wanted to win an argument. And you saw red. You saw blood red, scarlet like you were but a bull attracted to a flag.

“Don’t you fucking condescend me right now.”

“Don’t you fucking curse at me.”

“No seriously,” you continued. “I don’t want a guy who’s only after popular girls.”

“I am not,” Namjoon drawled. “I’m tutoring her and Park Seojin in maths. You already knew this.”

As a matter of fact, you did not. “You never told me.”

“Because you never listen to me,” he spat. “You’re always just drawing your fucking drawings as if that’ll lead you anywhere in life.”

“Kim Namjoon!” you burst. “And you’re always just going on about how you want to be a rapper. You’re a kid, dude, stop chasing after pointless dreams.”

He stepped closer to you, towering over you. You stood your ground, crossing your arms on your chest. “You’ll be sorry you ever said that. Oh, you’ll be so fucking sorry.”

“I don’t think I will. I don’t even think I’ll remember you.”

It was a low blow, and you could tell it hit him right in the gut. “You’re breaking up with me over such a stupid thing?”

“I’m breaking up with you because you’re a liar. You said you were with your friends, and then I learn that you were with Jeon Yuri?”

He sighed for a long time, shaking his head in frustration. “Oh, so this is really what it is about? Maybe there’s a reason why I didn’t want to tell you I was tutoring her.”

You scowled. “Why?”

“Because I knew you’d throw a jealousy fit. You think you’re entitled all of my time.”

“Fuck you,” you growled. “Fuck you. I have all the rights to be jealous when my boyfriend hides stuff like that from me.”

“Boyfriend? I thought you broke up with me.”

Your gaze slightly widened. “What?”

“I’m not your boyfriend anymore,” he said, adding your name like it was an insult. “Get over me already.”

“Do you even love me?” you replied, your anger suddenly dying down to be replaced with gut-wrenching pain.

But you knew better than to expect his anger to ever die down. It took forever for Namjoon to calm down, and you feared you had crossed a line tonight.

“Not when you get mad at me for no valid reason.”

His words hit like a slap to the face. “I just don’t like her. Can’t you tutor someone else?”

“No.”

The simple negation brought back a shade of anger to you, and you said, “Then perhaps we really should break up. Maybe I can find someone that actually respects me.”

“Because I don’t respect you?” he said, hands moving around his frame in anger.

“Clearly not.”

“You’re right then,” he continued. “I don’t respect you. I don’t love you either, apparently, so I’m done.”

“Joon…”

“No, Maehwa,” he said, and this time the nickname broke your heart in two, splitting it right in the middle. “You don’t say my name like that.” He slowly shook his head, seething. “As a matter of fact, I don’t want you to ever speak to me again. To ever look at me. I don’t want someone that acts like a fucking child.”

“You act like a child all the time,” you interrupted, but he ignored you.

He ignored you, in favor of turning around to walk away. You watched his back, before taking a step towards him, yelling his name again. He stopped, but didn’t turn to look at you. Instead, he said, “I’ll kill you if you follow me.”

You scoffed. “Oh please, as if you’d ever hurt me.”

“I’m serious, I’ll fucking kill you if I ever see you again.”

It felt enormous, to say such a thing. And perhaps youth was that – enormous in its drama. So you replied, “I hate you more than I hate anything in this world.”

He shrugged his shoulders, and then he walked away.

He walked away into the October night, and your cleaved heart shattered in a million tiny pieces.

☆☆☆☆☆

Read the rest of the fic here bc tumblr sucks and now we can't write posts longer than 1,000 blocks

[gwiyeounsonyeon]

ive been xtra obsessed with these boys if you wanted to try and request something. please bear with me though idk if im gonna be able to get anything done today but i want to try…

BTS - namjoon, yoongi, *i would be willing to attempt writing for jimin and jungkook*

BIGBANG - g dragon, top, taeyang, daesung

detective loki (prisoners), ghost, konig, leon kennedy, han lue (tokyo drift)

[male-reader-haven]

~That Horrible,, Wonderful Feeling~

Author note:

Chapter 2 wholesomeness ahead!! Idk if any of you caught it in my last upload before I edited it but I left my name in place of one of the Y/N placeholders... Oops. Needless to say I write these with myself in mind first lmao. Anyways, enjoy a relaxing date with Namjoon!!!

Chapter 2: New is Scary

Namjoon's POV as Y/N takes him to a museum. They share tons of moments, learn some more, and get closer to each other. A bit closer than intended... While his mind should be focused on the artwork and history on display, Namjoon can't help but find himself distracted by Y/N's adorable charm. What's happening to him?

ALSO INCLUDING: Y/N's perspective as his best friend helps him through gay panic

Pairing: Kim Namjoon x male idol Y/N (who has the same birthday as Jimin)

TW: Internalized homophobia, awkward moments, guilt, 18+

Word count: 3,648

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

After another 15 minutes Y/N and Namjoon arrive at the museum and park. They had called ahead to let the museum know they were coming so they could bring their own security, but when they arrived they realized they wouldn't need it since the museum is basically empty, save for an elderly couple walking in together from off the bus. Y/N parks the car and looks at Namjoon excitedly.

“We got the place to ourselves! Let's go!” He hops out of the car, Namjoon smiles and puts up his black mask and gets out of the passenger side. Y/N slips up his own mask and locks the car with a short “beep.” He goes over to Namjoon and grabs his hand.

“C’mon, let's go!” Namjoon smiles under his mask as Y/N practically drags him into the museum.

They walk in the building together and check in at the front desk. The lady is very polite and shows them a small sign.

“If you scan this QR code with your phone it sends you to the audio guide for our exhibits so you can listen along.”

“That’s new.” Namjoon remarks. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out his airpods and phone. He frowns slightly and turns to Y/N. “I usually bring these to listen to music as I look, but I also want to listen to the guide.”

“Here, I have an idea!” Y/N reaches into his own pocket and pulls out his own airpods. “Here, you play your music with your airpods and I will play the audio guide and we can each share one earbud.” He scans the sign and holds out an earbud in his hand towards Namjoon. 

“Perfect!” Namjoon smiles and trades earbuds with Y/N. They walk away from admission and put their earbuds in. 

“Now it’s my turn to judge your music taste!” Y/N laughs. Namjoon smiles, somewhat nervously. After a second too long of scrolling through his playlists Namjoon finally decides to play “Gymnopedie No. 1,” looking up to see if Y/N approves. Y/N smiles.

“Perfect.” He then turns to his phone and taps the play icon for the audio guide, only to make both of them jump with a blast of sound.

“Ah! Sorry, volume.” After he frantically lowers the volume to a good level, they both chuckle.

“Listen to loud music, huh?” Namjoon laughs. 

“On occasion…” Y/N looks away, slightly shy from embarrassment. They begin walking and observing pieces in the national designated culture assets collection. The audio guide’s soft voice and the lull of the music provide a great combination of background noise as they admire the art. Namjoon notices that Y/N tends to walk and sway along with the music subconsciously, his head rocking back and forth gently as he bends down to read captions. He walks gracefully, nearly dancing as he makes his way to the next piece. Namjoon has a tight feeling in his stomach. They stop to admire “Sin-gubeop cheonmundo,” an old astronomical chart. Namjoon looks at Y/N, who is staring wide-eyed at the constellations and markings. His lips are slightly parted as his eyes graze over the parchment, slightly sparkling. Namjoon is enamored by Y/N’s thoughtful expressions, and the soothing music in the back of his mind doesn’t help how fluttery he feels looking at him. 

He is beautiful.

Y/N turns and meets Namjoon’s eyes for a split second and Namjoon snaps his head back to the chart as if nothing happened. Out of the corner of his eye Namjoon sees Y/N turn his head also. They move on in comfortable silence and spend an hour looking at more historical pieces. Namjoon stays at the rear, watching as Y/N explores in adorable wonder. His mind is drifting away from the audio guide and he gets lost in watching him move from piece to piece. Y/N himself looks like he should be a work of art, put behind protective glass to shield him from the cruel outside world. He dances around the empty hallways and by dimly lit artworks. As far as Namjoon is concerned, the whole museum was built just for him. Y/N turns around and meets Namjoon’s gaze. Namjoon doesn’t look away this time, enamored by Y/N’s warm smile.

“Hungry?” Y/N asks after a moment. As if on cue, Namjoon’s stomach makes a gurgling sound.

“Guess so.” They laugh and head to the museum cafe. 

Y/N orders a hot chai tea latte with oat milk and a rice cake and Namjoon orders an iced americano with egg bread. They sit down on bar stools next to the glass wall that shows the outside garden. 

“I need to go to museums more often, I really love it here!” Y/N remarks, taking a sip of his tea. “It’s so peaceful compared to the rest of the city.”

“Yeah, whenever I have even just 30 minutes of free time from working I try to go to museums. They calm me down and help me clear my mind. It’s part of why I love art so much.” He looks at Y/N. “What do you like about art?”

“Wow, loaded question.” Y/N laughs. “Well, I like thinking about what made the artist create their pieces. What time period it was, what was going on at the time, how they felt, what prompted them to create, etcetera. I like the personality behind it.” He looks out the window, resting his head in his hand. “It’s like taking a glimpse into a stranger’s mind and seeing what it’s like. It's intimate.” Namjoon nods. He takes note of how the setting sun’s golden glow shines on Y/N’s hair, making it a warm color. There’s that funny feeling in his chest again.

This is new…  Since when do I notice things like that about him?...

Namjoon fidgets in his seat and looks down at his coffee. 

“I missed hanging out with you, Joon. It’s been forever since you've been working so hard for the last few months. It’s like we never see you.” Namjoon feels a twinge of guilt after hearing him say that. 

“I’m sorry, I get stuck up in my head sometimes. Yoongi too. When we start the process, it's hard to stop.” He sips his coffee. “I need to remember to take more breaks before I burn out.”

“Seriously. You know if you ever need to wind down or want to go to a museum, I'd be happy to come with. We don’t even really have to talk if it takes too much energy.” He crosses his arms. “Plus, somebody’s gotta make sure you don’t break down completely.”

Namjoon chuckles.

“Okay, I’ll keep that in mind.” 

After some time chatting at the cafe, Namjoon and Y/N decide to head back home and chill with takeout and movies until the rest of the band gets back. Y/N orders chinese (sesame chicken, orange chicken, wontons and crab rangoons) while Namjoon flips through Netflix.

“Any recommendations?” Namjoon says over his shoulder.

“Shhh, on the phone, one sec.” Y/N responds. Namjoon just nods and continues flipping, making note of all 8 member’s profile images on Netflix. Taehyung has a strange cartoon slug, Jimin is Queen Elizabeth from “The Crown,” Jungkook is the chicken from “Lost in Space,” Yoongi is a leopard from some nature documentary, J-hope is a default orange smiley icon, Jin is Aggretsuko, Y/N is a penguin and Namjoon’s is a koala. He wonders to himself if everyone chose their own or if somebody assigned all their icons. He scrolls down his account and realizes there is so much that he hasn’t seen, let alone heard of. Y/N hangs up his phone and joins Namjoon on the sofa.

“Should be around 30 minutes.” He gets comfortable and grabs a large blanket to settle under. He offers Namjoon the blanket as well, and he accepts, getting comfortable.

“What do you want to watch?” He asks Y/N. He pauses a second. “What genres do you like?”

“Ooh, I love horror and comedy. I’m always down for a classic supernatural horror or a rom com. OH, but I have a huge soft spot for action movies with huge robots or monsters.” Y/N turns to Namjoon. “What about you?” 

“I like dramas and science fiction. That's interesting, I never knew you were a horror fan. Wouldn’t quite peg you for someone who likes that stuff.” He tilts his head. Y/N laughs.

“Yeah? Well surprise, this pretty boy listens to heavy metal and screamo, likes horror, and listens to true crime podcasts.” He winks. “I’m not as innocent as I look, you know.” 

The two of them end up finding a science fiction/horror movie about astronauts going into space with a dangerous alien on board. About 20 minutes into the movie, Namjoon notices how quiet it has gotten and looks over to find Y/N falling asleep. 

Geez, must still be feeling the effects of yesterday.  

He smiles as he watches him slowly nod his head, repeatedly catching himself just to nod off again. He leans forward and gently grabs Y/N’s shoulders, helping him lean back into the sofa rather than leaning forward and nearly falling off. Y/N lets him and ends up leaning back on Namjoon’s shoulder, making himself comfortable. Namjoon can feel his breaths as Y/N basically falls into his lap asleep. Namjoon is startled but doesn't want to move him, so he just puts his left arm around him and tries to focus on the movie. He can’t stop his eyes from being drawn to Y/N’s head in his lap, however, and he finds himself subconsciously bringing his right hand to Y/N’s head and stroking his hair. The funny feeling is in his chest again.

Suddenly, the movie has a jumpscare, and Y/N jolts up from his slumber, looking at the screen. He is still on his side, but now has his arms on Namjoon’s lap and is turned over. He stays like this for a moment before realizing that he is indeed on Namjoon’s lap. He turns to Namjoon and quickly sits up. 

“Ah, sorry haha. I can’t believe I fell asleep.” Namjoon swears he can see him blushing.

“No worries. You looked adorable. Uh, comfortable! You looked comfortable.” Namjoon catches himself, hoping Y/N won’t think anything of it. Y/N just smiles. They sit in silence, just looking at each other. Namjoon doesn’t know if it is him or Y/N or both of them, but they seem to be a lot closer now than their faces were five minutes ago. They draw closer to each other in what feels like slow motion. Heat rises up in Namjoon’s chest.

They are interrupted by the ring of the doorbell. They both blink, seemingly snapping out of whatever trance they were just in.

“I uh, I'll go get that.” Y/N hurriedly stands up to get the door. 

What was just about to happen?? Namjoon’s thoughts raced. His stomach felt like butterflies had invaded and his head was a balloon. Did he and Y/N just, almost kiss? Did he want them to kiss? He shook his head, trying to clear his head as Y/N walks over with a brown paper bag. 

“Food has arrived! Almost 20 minutes late, that is.” He sighs and places the food on the table. “We might finish the movie before we finish our food.” He laughs. They silently agree to act like the situation previously never happened and dig into the food. The night goes on and they start another movie, and eventually the other boys arrive and everyone re-unites to talk about their days.

“Yoongi almost fell in the water. He fell asleep with the pole and got a huge bite, it almost pulled him in!” Jin laughs, retelling the scene.

“It ended up taking my bait.” Yoongi smiles. They obviously had fun.

“Taehyung and Jungkook had an argument and almost got us all lost hiking.” Jimin tattles on the two youngest members.

“I don’t want to start the argument all over again, but I’m just saying, I knew where I was going!” Jungkook whined.

“Yeah, that’s why you had to keep asking where we were on the map.” Taehyung gives him a playful punch on the shoulder.

“We got out safely though. We saw a lot of deer and wildlife.” Hoseok chimes in. 

“We had a good time too! The museum was practically empty, so we had the whole place to ourselves.” Y/N explains their time at the museum. “It was really great!”

“Hey, let’s all do something tomorrow. It’s been forever since all 8 of us hung out.” Hoseok chimes in. “We could go to a club and get drinks.” 

“I hope you’re thinking about the evening then, not the day.” Yoongi laughs. “Let’s not be day drinkers and end up smashed again.”

“We could all go to karaoke and dinner, then go to the club. That way we have food in our stomachs first.” Taehyung suggests.

“Sure. I’m always down to see rapper Jin show us up.” Namjoon laughs, referencing the last time they did group karaoke. 

“Better watch out, i’ll be in the rapline soon enough!” Jin widens his eyes at Namjoon. They all laugh.

“Cool, we will meet at the arcade around 4 then?” Y/N asks. The other 7 members all agree. 

Namjoon yawns. 

“I’m gonna turn in guys, still tired from yesterday.” He glances at Y/N. “You were practically sleeping through the movie, so I suggest you go to bed too.” He laughs, then suddenly remembers the strange moment that happened earlier between him and Y/N. He thinks he remembers too because he sees him turn away.

“Haha, yeah, I'm pretty tired too. I had fun today, and I’m glad we all have this weekend off to spend together. Get some rest y'all.” 

“Get out of here with your english slang.” Jungkook jokes with Y/N and stands up too. He gets up and makes his way to his room. The other members each respectively say their goodnights and head to their own rooms as well.

Namjoon lies in bed for a while, unable to sleep. The day keeps on replaying in his head like clips from a movie. Seeing Y/N walk around the museum and how pretty he was, him staring out the window at the cafe and his face so close to Namjoon’s on the couch. Namjoon brings his hands to his face. 

What is happening to me?

Never before has he had these feelings for another man, let alone someone he has known for most of his life already.

Is it really okay to think about him like that? 

He shakes his head, catching himself. It’s not like he was doing anything wrong. To be fair, if anyone looked at Y/N and tried to say he wasn’t a cute boy, they'd be lying. It’s only natural. Plus, it’s not like anything actually happened between them today. Namjoon feels a twinge of guilt.

Why do I feel guilty for having these feelings? 

Namjoon rolls over, head full of thoughts. Eventually, he drifts off to sleep, thinking of rays of sunshine reflecting off silky hair and sparkling eyes.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

(Meanwhile, in Y/N's room...)

Y/N is lying down on his carpet floor when Jimin walks into his room and sits next to him.

“So, what’s up with you?” He pokes Y/N in the side. “You’re ‘tired,’ huh?”

Y/N frowns, not looking at Jimin yet. 

“Yes. I’m allowed to be tired.” He rolls over and pokes Jimin back. “Are you here to lecture me about something?”

Jimin sighs.

“Look, Y/N, we basically share one brain cell. I can tell when something is up with you. You always help me when I come to you. Now spill.”

Y/N groans and sits up reluctantly.

“Is Namjoon acting differently lately?” He poses the question that has been on his mind all day. “When we were hanging out he seemed off, lost in thought or something. I’m worried about what happened during that interview.”

Jimin tsks at Y/N.

“Of course, you aren’t worried about yourself, but someone else. Look, if you are that concerned, maybe you should go ask him. I’m sure he would appreciate it.” He pats Y/N’s knees. “He did seem off. I gotta admit, I’m a bit concerned too. I think it’s best you ask though, you’re good at these things.” Y/N nods, looking at the ground. Jimin tilts his head. “Aaaand you still have shit on your mind. What else is up?”

Y/N smiles. 

“You just can’t cut me a break, huh?”

“Absolutely not. Come on, lay it on me. I’m a secure secret keeper, I swear by our twinship.”

“More like we just happen to have the same birthday and year, not exactly twins.” Y/N laughs. “Plus, I'm older by like, 2 hours.”

“Ah, you're stalling! Hurry up and tell me what's wrong before I use twin telepathy on you.” They both laugh.

“I don’t know. It’s just…” Y/N looks at the wall for a moment, searching for the right words. “Hanging out with Namjoon today felt so different. I mean, we are around each other every day. We all are. But something changed.”

“Could it be you are finally realizing your super mega gay crush on him?” Jimin smirks.

“Whaaaaaaaat?” Y/N’s head snaps to meet Jimin’s with a taken aback look.

“Oh my fucking god Y/N, you have been crushing on him since we debuted, you CANNOT be this stupid.” He puts his hands on Y/N’s shoulders. “You wrote about him in all your letters home for crying out loud.”

Y/N blushes and stutters. 

“W-well, I wrote about all of you-”

“Yeah, but not like you wrote about Namjoon. And how about all the times you would fall after he did in practice so he didn’t feel bad? All the times you’d fix things right after he broke them so people don’t find out? Don’t act like you don’t!” Jimin is satisfied when Y/N cups his hands to his face.

“Oh god, was it always that obvious?” He says through his hands. 

“Not to Namjoon. The man has an IQ of 148 but is somehow thick as a brick.” He smiles at Y/N. “Honestly, I think he may not be as straight as you think he is.”

Y/N looks up, betraying his curious face.

“Huh? What makes you say that?”

“Well if you also weren’t so absolutely in your own head, you would notice how you make him smile so much. He thinks you are adorable.” Jimin teases Y/N, who blushes and hides into his hands again.

“You don’t know that, you are just making assumptions to tease me.”

“Somewhat, but I also believe that man is not straight.”

“Come ON, he is such a simp for Megan The Stallion.”

“Oh, so you’re promoting bi erasure now?” Jimin lightly punches Y/N in the side. “Plus, he basically worships Anderson Paak. And you have to admit, he treats you a bit differently. There could be something there, you never know.” 

“How would that even work? Two members of BTS getting together, the fans would lose their shit. Plus, I don’t think it's even allowed.”

“Who says? The company is literally ours. Plus, you wouldn't have to be public about it. Fans will make assumptions anyways. You yourself have seen the ao3 pages and wattpad fanfictions. At this point there is a fanfic for each and every one of us together.” He shudders as if recalling a memory. “I will never forget some of those… I should have left my curiosity to rot.”

Y/N laughs. 

“Holy fucking shit do they love putting you and JK in the omegaverse.”

“I still can’t believe Tae got us to read those. I have never been the same man since.” He laughs and then regains his train of thought. “Anyways my point is, don’t worry so much. Things will work out. Just keep being yourself and if something happens, great! If not, oh well. We will survive.” He opens his arms and beckons Y/N to hug him.

“Thanks Jimin. You always know how to help me organize my brain.”

“I know, I know, you can praise me later.” They hug for a second. “No matter what, we will always be a family. All eight of us.”

“I know. I’m so grateful.” 

“Even if one of us is fucking the leader.”

“Ugh, you perv!!” Y/N punches Jimin.

“Ouchh, don't take out your frustration on me, save that for Joon! Ack-” He is cut off when Y/N punches him again.

“And now you have overstayed your welcome. I don’t approve of perverts in my room, get out before I pepper spray you!” Y/N stands up and drags Jimin to his feet, pushing him to the door.

“Haha okay okay, i'll leave. You know you love me.” Jimin peeks his head from behind the door, trying to act cute.

“Less and less by the second. Now goodnight.” Y/N closes the door slowly, forcing Jimin to move his head.

“G’night hyung!!” He is heard jogging to his own room. 

“Night Jimin.” Y/N sighs and falls on his bed. He stares at the ceiling, thinking about the day and what to do next.

Nothing has changed, so I shouldn’t change. Just keep doing your thing.

Y/N reassures himself. He then thinks of Namjoon.

I should check on him tomorrow. I’ll keep an eye on him while we hang out, just to make sure he is all right.

He sighs and turns to his side. Eventually, he drifts to sleep.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Stay tuned, Jae loves you <3

[namjoonboo]

Hi, I don’t know if you take requests or not but if you do, can you write a poly relationship with Namjoon & J-hope that really wants to make their sub top boyfriend feel good

Relax..

Namjoon x j-hope x male reader

Warnings: poly relationship, dom!bottom!namjoon, dom!bottom! j-hope, sub!top! Male reader, smut, tying up, 2 rounds, aftercare.

A/N: I always take requests at any time:) I had too much fun with this one,,

.....

Namjoon and j-hope loved Y/N. The three boys have been dating for 1 year and a half. Sometimes it felt like they were together for a very long time.

The three boys also kept their relationship a secret of the public. Mostly for their safety. The three boys also shared a home with each other.

Currently, Y/N had a tiring day at work. His boss was forcing him to have extra hours even tho Y/N already was doing overtime.

Also that Y/N's coworkers have been being such a ass to him. It was pressing Y/N to his limits but he just shut himself so he doesn't get fired.

When Y/N got home, it was 7:00 pm. Y/N put all of his stuff down and passed out on the couch.

J-hope and namjoon saw the sudden change in Y/N's behavior. "I think he had a bad day at work.." J-hope said to namjoon. Namjoon looked at Y/N passed out on the couch.

"I think so too." Namjoon said back. "Do you want help him?" J-hope said. "In what type of way...?" Namjoon said. "You'll see...."

....

Y/N was tied up to the shared bed that the three boys shared. Y/N was also naked on the bed while tied up.

"God j-hope I love your idea~" namjoon said packing j-hope's lips. J-hope giggled at namjoon. J-hope and namjoon were also both naked waiting for Y/N to wake up.

"Let's just wait for him to wake up~" namjoon said to j-hope. Namjoon took out the TV remote and turned on the TV while they waited for Y/N to wake up.

After 10 minutes, Y/N opened his eyes to see namjoon and j-hope watching TV. He also noticed that he couldn't move. "N-namjoon, j-j-hope....?" Y/N said in shock.

Namjoon and j-hope turned around to Y/N awake. "Rise and shine prince~" namjoon and j-hope said to Y/N. Y/N slowly got hard seeing namjoon and j-hope naked in front of him.

"Shh~ just relax prince, we know you had a hard day at work." Namjoon said while j-hope got behind of Y/N.

Namjoon lined up his hole up to Y/N's cock. Namjoon put his hands on Y/N's shoulders and slammed down on Y/N's cock.

Y/N moaned loudly while namjoon was going down on him. J-hope pulled Y/N's hair so he could look at him. J-hope shoved his cock in Y/N's mouth.

"F-FUCK OH MY G-GO- AHH!" Y/N said moaning very loud while he was sucking off j-hope and namjoon was going down on him in a rough way.

When j-hope came in Y/N's, he grabbed Y/N's head and made out with him to taste his cum on Y/N's lips.

Namjoon was a panting mess. "Oh my god Y-Y/N.. Ur so b-big, AAH~" Namjoon said smirking and moaning. Namjoon and j-hope looked at each other and smirked at each other.

Y/N was so in the pleasure. He loved the namjoon was riding him so rough. Namjoon was also leaving hickeys around Y/N's chest.

When Y/N finally came in namjoon, he screamed out and moaned. Namjoon also came on Y/N's tummy.

Y/N felt namjoon come off of his cock and he saw j-hope go in front of him. And he felt namjoon go behind him.

"W-what are you g-guys d-d-doing...?" Y/N said.

"I wanna feel you inside me~" j-hope said and he grabbed Y/N's cock. While namjoon was behind of Y/N and Y/N could feel namjoon fingering him.

"N-namjoon!!" Y/N moaned at namjoon fingeing him. J-hope slammed down on Y/N's cock and started to ride him.

"A-ahhHH!! Its too g-good!!" Y/N said while being overstimulated. It felt so good to Y/N. He could feel j-hope also riding him never roughly and he could also feel namjoon fingering him roughly.

Namjoon forced Y/N's face to look at him. Namjoon smashed his lips on Y/N's lips and roughly explored Y/N's mouth while still fingering Y/N.

J-hope also left hickeys on Y/N's chest while he rode him. The overstimulation felt too good.

When Y/N came again but in j-hope, he let all of his moans out. "F-F-FUCK!!!~" Y/N screamed out. J-hope felt himself cum on Y/N tummy. Namjoon took his fingers out of Y/N hole after he came.

Y/N felt j-hope untangled the ropes on him. And Y/N also felt namjoon arms around his neck and pushed him close to him.

When j-hope was done untying the ropes on Y/N, j-hope said "let's take a shower guys" namjoon nodded and the three of them took a shower together. And they checked the time and it was 10:59 pm.

The shower was a slow shower. J-hope and namjoon kissing Y/N and comforting him. The both of them asking how Y/N's day was and Y/N telling them how he had a bad day.

When they were done taking a bath, the three of them dried eachother and put on their PJ's.

When Y/N got on the bed to go to sleep, j-hope and namjoon were cuddling Y/N to make him feel better. Y/N was basically sandwiched in the middle of them.

....

Made by namjoonboo on December 23rd 2022.

[hisunshiine]

—revelations under the moon

🌙 pairing: alpha!namjoon x omega!reader 🌙 au/genre: ABO au, fated mates au, angst, smut 🌙 series rating: M 🌙 wc: 9,468 🌙 series warnings: mentions of an off-screen character death (barely a character tbh), brief male masturbation, thoughts of 'cheating' (if they aren't true mates though..is it?), cursing, retelling of a fake historical fable that includes VERY brief mentions of murder and suicide as the consequence of a tragic hero's hubris explicit sexual content: biting, marking, knotting, semi-rough sex, unprotected sex, creampie, aftercare 🌙 an: wow, i did not think i would get this out in time, january was a rough month for me, but my grandpa just finished his last lung cancer treatment last week, and im trying to just balance all the stress of real life, but yeah, i think it's getting better. thank you to my beta readers, @downbad4yoongi @moonleeai and @peachiilovesot7 i appreciate all your help, whether you helped in december or in february, it is much appreciated, as always. you're the best hype squad. this is also my first ABO story, so if you hate it don't tell me. LOL 🌙 summary: "When crescent rises, we shall rise as one, Aligned with moonrise, our time has begun." Alpha-heir Namjoon and his long time sweetheart are thought to be the next pair to rule Highscrest, but when Duskfall is attacked, the heir makes a decision that changes the course of not only his and his girlfriend's destiny, but yours as well.

This story is part of the "New Year, New Me Love" @bangtanwritershq gift exchange, written for the lovely @colormepurplex2! Happy Valentine's Day!

🌒🌒🌒 Tuesday - Waxing Gibbous

The loud chatter of the crowd irritates you; your senses are on overdrive after the past two weeks you’ve had. Packing and moving everything you own across the river during the New Moon was unexpected—almost as unexpected of it being a result of a peace treaty signed by the Beta of your old pack after the death of Alpha Tyvrin. 

A Beta jostles you in an attempt to move closer to the raised platform at the far end of the civic center, and you shoot him a quick glare before turning your attention back to the men on stage to avoid any drama. An Omega glaring at a Beta isn’t as bad as if it was an Alpha, but insubordinate enough still. The new tribe members do not know your previous role in Duskfall and have every right to challenge any hierarchical disrespect.

“Quiet, please,” a voice rumbles quietly, but everyone in the room follows the directive. You recognize the Alpha Father, or the father of the Alpha-Heir and most recent Pack Alpha of Highcrest, at the podium. Your irritation drops as your senses can finally focus now that the room is silent. The smells of so many new pack members still suffocates your olfactory system, but it’s bearable now. One scent seems to overpower the rest, a clean forestry smell that seems to dilute the others. “Good evening, and thank you all for coming tonight. We hope you all have been acclimating to the changes these past few weeks. If you have any concerns, please reach out to any of us here.” 

The Alpha Father waves over his son, stepping aside to let him take the lead of the rest of the meeting. Your eyes drink in the lithe movements highlighted by the fit of his suit. “Thank you, Alpha Father. For those of you who are joining us from Duskfall, at the time of the New Moon three months prior, I began the ascension steps. Right before your arrival, I had just finished the last of the three trials. All that remains is the bonding.”

You look around the room to see if anyone else is having the same reaction to his voice as you are—the crowd is transfixed; all attention is on the Alpha Heir Kim Namjoon. He’s young, almost thirty, but commands the stage. It’s not just because he’s handsome, though the blue suit and his dark brown hair help. His aura oozes from afar, your inner wolf screaming at you that this is a man you would follow and it’s your turn to receive a dirty look as you bump into the person in front of you. You turn back to the stage, ears attuning to his baritone as he continues.

“—final ceremony will take place in three days, and as you all know, I will be selecting my mate. I know that there are many newcomers who may be wary of joining the pack with all of these changes happening so soon, but please have faith in us. Highcrest will protect you all, and we will be at full strength as soon as the full moon rises in a week.”

Some applause breaks out, and his confidence soothes the wolf inside you that worries about this treaty. Highcrest sits on the eastern side of the Twin Rivers split, atop the range that leads to Twin Falls. Your previous pack, Duskfall, was integrated into Highcrest two weeks ago after Shadowhide attacked and killed Alpha Tyvrin under the cover of the New Moon, in a successful attempt at taking the land between the two streams. 

The fertile soil and access to the freshwater source has been a source of contention between Duskfall and Shadowhide for decades, and while a group consisting of the Alpha, Beta and his best warriors patrolled your western border, Shadowhide attacked. The Beta and a few others escaped by the grace of the moon, which gave the pack enough warning to prepare and kept Shadowhide at bay now that the act of surprise was gone. With the Alpha slain and the clock ticking before Shadowhide invaded, the Beta had no choice but to reach out to Highcrest for help. A peace treaty was signed, allowing all pack members of Duskfall to join Highcrest in exchange for their commitment to the pack. Any members who were against the treaty were allowed to leave of their own volition and go back to the main city, or find a pack of their choosing, but with the danger of Shadowhide’s takeover imminent, everyone agreed to travel east across the river and up the mountain range to the safety of Highcrest.

“Thank you to all of Duskfall’s former pack for all of your patience with us as we’ve worked to create a space for all of you here in Highcrest. After the ceremony, which is open to all unmated Omegas, everyone from Duskfall will officially be of Highcrest, and those who have not yet finished their commitment rites can do so at that time.”

You watch as Kim Namjoon waves over a tall, slender woman with sleek hair falling down her back. She is the picture of elegance, her walk stalking forward in a hypnotic fashion as she steps beside the Alpha-Heir and speaks to the crowd. You recognize her from the Apothecary you’ve been training in ever since you’ve settled into your new life here.  

“Good evening, everyone. I’m Min Everlight, an Omega of pack Highcrest. I am the head healer for the pack, and if Alpha Namjoon is ever unavailable, please come see me down at the Apothecary. I’ll help in whatever capacity I can in his absence.” Her hand moves almost subconsciously towards his, and they intertwine fingers. “We have committed our lives to this pack, and all of us up here will do our best to provide for Highcrest. Please stop by the apothecary this week if you haven’t yet received the Aconite to remove your Duskfall markings in preparation for your Highcrest one.”

Everlight stays linked to Namjoon as he takes a slight step forward to end the meeting.

“When the crescent rises,” he begins, and the people around you intone their response. 

“We, too, shall rise.”

Walking under the waxing gibbous, you and your Beta roommate, Sana, wave goodbye to one of your elderly neighbors. You’ve been checking on all of the members of your old pack, helping them in any way you can to get them acclimated after work. You go home tired every night, but you want to make sure this merger works.

Sana skips ahead as your new home comes into sight, singing the Alpha-Heir’s praises. “He’s so brilliant, I promise you this is the best thing that could’ve happened to us. And Min Everlight? She’s amazing, right? You’ve been working under her these past couple of weeks, isn’t she effervescent?”

You laugh at her excitement, answering her vaguely as you unlock the door to your shared home. “She knows her stuff, that’s for sure. I’ve learned a few new things already since we’ve been here, but most of it I already knew.” Sana dreamily wanders to her bedroom, ignoring your slight diss and chattering mostly to herself about how wonderful tribe Highcrest is. You plop onto the couch unceremoniously, thoughts on Min Everlight. 

Everlight is effervescent, with an inner glow that makes her the perfect Omega as mate for the Alpha-Heir. You’ve heard from the other women at the Apothecary that she and Namjoon have been dating for years. Longtime sweethearts and—if their little show on stage meant anything—his choice for his mate. This thought makes you feel sick, because ever since you walked away from Duskfall and followed him to Highcrest, your heart has thrummed for him. 

Taking a deep breath that you let out with a sigh, you change your line of thinking before you venture towards a vitriol hatred of your soon-to-be female leader. Min Everlight has been nothing but motherly and nurturing to all of you since your arrival, but the more you see her all over the Alpha-Heir, the harder it is to like her. Not just because of her romantic relationship with Namjoon, either, but that she represents everything that you almost were, and reminds you of everything you lost.  

You scratch at your upper arm over your shirtsleeve, where the Aconite serum you rubbed on earlier dissolves your Duskfall tattoo in preparation for your Highcrest one. The Aconite is diluted and mixed with other herbs to prevent poisoning that would weaken you before the ceremony. Sana disappears into the shared bathroom to shower, and you close your eyes for a moment not meaning to fall asleep as you wait for your turn.

The moon goddess blesses you with dreams of Duskfall past, memories of your destined path as the tribe’s Luna-to-be—the Omega paired to the now fallen Alpha Tyvrin—and you wake to the reality that all you have trained for was for naught.  

🌓🌓🌓 Wednesday - Waxing Gibbous

Or, more like you wake with the sudden slam of a door, sitting upright as you squint to keep back the sunlight. 

“Damn, you slept on the couch?” Sana questions, looking cheery and well-rested.

You clear your throat to answer. “Yeah, I guess so. What time is it?”

Sana glances at her watch. “Um, it’s half past eight.”

“Shit, I overslept, and I’m supposed to meet with Everlight again today.” You stand abruptly, and begin organizing all of the large pillows on the couch, laying the blanket just so until you hear Sana laughing at you. You look up at her with a glare. “What?”

“I think you might be in pre-heat. You’ve fluffed that pillow at least three times, and that blanket cannot be folded over the back of the couch any more perfectly unless you’ve got a protractor in the cabinet.”

“There’s no way, it hasn’t been enough time since the last one.” You ignore her as you clamber back onto the couch, tucking your legs up under you seemingly forgetting your plans for the day.

“Your heat is probably gearing up because of some Alpha at the meeting last night. With Tyvrin gone, rest in moonlight, you’re no longer taking the suppressants are you? With everything that’s happened, it makes sense that you’d forget,” she theorizes, “and apparently Highcrest doesn’t have that practice here.”

You can’t believe you’ve forgotten. In Duskfall, you were chosen by Alpha Tyvrin to be his mate, and asked to take suppressants until the ceremony. This was to help to prevent you from having a heat, decreasing your pheromones from triggering any non-bonded Alpha’s into their ruts and endangering you. These past few weeks since the move, you haven’t been taking any suppressants, and you’re sure by now it's run its course and is out of your system.  

“They don’t practice that here?”

“No, weren’t you listening at the meeting? The Alpha-Heir doesn’t choose his mate the same way like in Duskfall. Highcrest has a different ceremony. All unmated Omega’s can be part of it.”

“But isn’t Everlight most likely going to be chosen anyways?”

“I hear there’s blindfolds involved, so maybe instead of sulking, and filling the apartment with your sour scent, you can just join the ceremony and give it a try.”

The news fills your chest with what feels like sunbeams, and you smile at the Beta as you relax into what you’re now realizing is a nest.

“Ah, the room smells so much nicer now. Also—you’re late.”

🌓🌓🌓 Wednesday - Waxing Gibbous

Kim Namjoon sits patiently outside the Apothecary, waiting for Everlight to finish for the day. He can sense her inside, her scent a fresh scent of clean linen, just brought down off of the line after soaking in the sun. It’s always been the strongest scent to him, out of all of the women in Highcrest, and he’s sure that the Moon Goddess will prove her to be his mate this weekend when he ascends to his Alpha status. 

Fingers drumming along his clothed knee, he hums to himself as he watches the sunrays filtering through the trees as it sets. The small bell above the door chimes as small groups of girls and women of all ages trickle out from the shop—Everlight hosted a gathering after work for all of the newcomers to review the Highcrest ceremony procedures for women, and they all bow respectfully when they catch sight of him seated in the chair near the door. 

Namjoon can’t help but wonder what else they were working on today, his nose itches to investigate whatever new tonic or serum she’s put together this time—the smell is amazing. Like a warm honey coating his tongue, hints of bourbon with small bursts of brown sugar peaking his interest. He hopes it’s not something inedible, like the Aconite serum, and his curiosity getting the better of him, he stands, unbuttoning his suit jacket and moving to peer through the small glass windows framed in the center of the door. 

Ah, he thinks as he takes in one of the new pack members, Everlight must have let one of the Duskfall women teach a new tonic. Namjoon recognizes you through the dusty glass standing in front of the group, and remembers that his Beta, Seokjin, had pointed you out from afar when you first arrived.

🌑Two Weeks Ago 🌑 Monday - New Moon

“That’s Alpha Tyvrin’s mate, er—was his mate. They hadn’t actually had the ceremony yet, the attack happened before the full moon ceremony could happen, but she was set to be Duskfall’s Luna.” Seokjin’s finger points down the lane from the window of City Hall, connecting to a woman walking towards the villager housing area. Namjoon eyes you warily before posing a series of questions to his Beta.

“Will it be an issue to have two mature Luna’s in a pack? Should we offer to place her with another pack to mate with an Alpha?”

“I don’t know…I haven’t ever heard of something like this happening. Typically the Alpha has already mated the Luna, and since one cannot live without the other—”

“I see.” Namjoon understands why the Moon Goddess would create such a fate for paired leaders. “Had the ceremony already happened, she would be buried next to him. It could be a help, now that we have so many more people, to have two strong healers in the pack. Maybe she could travel on patrols in case of an attack?” He wonders how Everlight would react to finding out that there’s another Luna-trained Omega in the pack, and if this would be a way to spin it to lessen any blowback. 

Seokjin looks thoughtful, eyebrows lifted as he tilts his head and gathers his words carefully. “That could be a good option for the second Luna, so that their training and skills do not go to waste, especially now that our pack has grown…It could also be worth mentioning—with so many new members, it would be a good show of faith if you were to perhaps choose the Duskfall Luna as your mate—”

Namjoon’s growl silences Seokjin momentarily but he presses on when he sees no claws being barred. 

“I’m just saying, nothing helps unite two packs better than having one of their own integrated into the upper levels of the hierarchy. If we want to keep peace and help Duskfall feel loyalty to Highcrest, taking their to-be-Luna as your mate would be the smart move. You and Everlight aren’t fated, so it’s not like our pack would frown upon it under the circumstances—”

Namjoon’s eyes cut like daggers as he stares his Beta down, almost dragon-like in ferocity as he contains his inner beast. “Everlight is my mate, Seokjin. I would never betray her like that.” 

🌓🌓🌓 Wednesday (present) - Waxing Gibbous

Looking at you now, Namjoon is glad to see that you and Everlight seem to have no issues working alongside each other. After reading through previous Alphas’ historical notes and reviewing the history of the packs of the Twin Rivers Valley, he decided that it would be best to keep you around, as he worries his newest constituents would revolt if they thought he had banished you from Highcrest. He spent the first couple of weeks talking to other elder members of Duskfall, and learned that a lot of the pack had come to rely on you as they became acclimated, that you had been going around to visit with them and check-in, and keep them all calm with the changes happening. 

He appreciated that you had taken this on as a duty, especially when you were dealing with the biggest blow of all. Namjoon meant to meet with you to thank you, but the longer he took, the more it felt fake, rehearsed, and like an afterthought instead of what it really was: an Alpha-Heir not yet familiar with his role, and learning about you from afar made him feel like a weird stalker of sorts that he had all this knowledge of you and your skills from others.  

Your skills would be most useful to their pack, and though you were meant to lead the pack by an Alpha’s side, you could still maintain some modicum of that role, just as the second to Everlight. Namjoon is sure this plan will work. He plans to have a meeting with Seokjin and Everlight tonight, that way he can make sure that they will follow his plan without any issues. 

He knows he could just order everyone to follow along, but using his Alpha to force others to do what he wants doesn’t always work out in the long run. The history of the tribal lands and the fact that there were three distinct tribes from the original one, up until Tyvrin’s death, is proof of that. 

It’s much better for a leader to have the consenting loyalty of his pack, instead of forced fealty that brews contempt and derision. Namjoon steps back from the door to allow another person to exit, and once again, the honeyed bourbon seeps through the opening. It’s much stronger this time, urging him to his feet almost against his will. 

He feels his blood thrumming, pounding through his veins like a rushing river. Namjoon checks his forehead, as if feverish, and notices his hand comes back with a sheen of sweat. It’s like he’s gone into pre-rut, which would be crazy. He’s pretty regular when it comes to his ruts lining up with Everlight’s heats, and she’s still not due for a little bit…

Namjoon stumbles backward, taking the three steps back to solid ground quickly as he tugs at the collar of his buttoned shirt. He’s too hot, it’s all too much, he has to do something, move, but he’s in the middle of the town, there are people who look to him to be more restrained than this standing all around…Namjoon trips a little on the gravel beneath his feet as he takes off back towards City Hall and away from Everlight, afraid that if she is due for her heat and his pre-rut was triggered by that, he would mount her right there in front of the last few people in the store and fuck her hard against the counter, not caring if everyone saw the powerful way he drove his cock in and out of her until he filled her with cum and knotted her.

He’s locked himself in his office, blinds closed with his fist wrapped around his thick length as he imagines it: his hands firm on the plump rounds of ass, spreading the cheeks apart as he spits between them, Omega slick lathering his cock with every stroke and the tight walls sucking him back in with every pump out, and when he cums—copious amounts leaking around his large hand—it’s only then that he realizes that it wasn’t the clean linen-scented Everlight he was imagining taking his knot.

🌔🌔🌔 Thursday - Waxing Gibbous

You’re irritated—more so than you’ve been since your entire life was turned upside down two weeks ago. The Beta that’s always around the Alpha, Seokjin, randomly showed up at your place in the morning saying you were tasked to go on a supply run to the nearest city. It makes sense—Seokjin explained that the Alpha had handpicked everyone in the group to help new pack members meet others and start to learn their ways, and you appreciate it, except for the fact that you don’t want to be far from home right now. 

In fact, because of the upcoming ceremony, Everlight had let all of the women training in the apothecary have the next few days off, as she expected to be chosen and wanted to prepare herself and her home for what was to come. You had mixed feelings when she initially announced this to everyone, because while you enjoy the respite from the constant go-go-go of changes around you, the reason behind it left you feeling miffed. 

All of yesterday, you spent time working at the Apothecary and were even asked by some of the others to show them some tonics and potions that they had never heard of, and while you enjoy teaching others, it’s quite draining to go through the motions while talking through every step you make, and why. The girls quietly scribbled down your words in their notebooks, committing your teachings to paper, which made you feel good about yourself, until reality hit about your future. 

It almost didn’t feel fair that you were so new to the pack and already others were looking to you to train and teach them new things, meanwhile another person is slated to take the position you’ve wanted and trained for your whole life. 

Shaking away your thoughts, you tap back into the moment, finally having arrived in the bustling city a little past mid-day. You hate all of the smells; the odor rising from the sewer grates and scents from the people who jostle you as they rudely push past your group. You hold back the urge to plug your nose, sighing out a weighted exhale as you follow Seokjin through the automatic sliding doors and into a grocer’s market. 

🌔🌔🌔 Thursday - Waxing Gibbous

Back in the forest, a half day’s trip from the city, Kim Namjoon spends his time in his office again, hiding out from his duties by disguising them as last minute studying and planning for the ceremony. 

He couldn’t bring himself to meet with Everlight the previous night, instead calling Seokjin only to discuss the plans for the supply run. He looked over the list of items Everlight needed in the apothecary, and only because the winter months were starting to fade away into spring meant this would be the last expensive trip until winter came again. 

Bees do not make honey in the winter, so why can’t he explain away the coincidence of the honey bourbon smell and the note written in Everlight’s scrawl next to the requested item underlined twice: Honey — we’ve been out for ages!! He doesn’t want to believe that he could be feeling this way for someone other than Everlight, but of two things he knows for sure: he smelled honey, and Everlight is distinctly NOT a honey smell. 

Seeing that on the list had Namjoon rise with a wild idea, to send the other Luna far, far away for the day, to help him clear his mind. In reality, he paces his office, wearing thin the once plush carpet with his worried steps until he can’t take it anymore. Crossing the room, he walks with such a force that no one dares to question where he’s off to. 

He knows where you live, knows that your Beta roommate Sana should be home, and when he knocks on the door with authority, he expects Sana to fling the door open so hastily that the movement sends the mixed scents of the apartment wafting out at him. Instantly, he expects his spine to straighten as his whole body is overwhelmed by the truth—except that never comes. No one is home, as a kind older woman politely points out to him after his third attempt at knocking. 

“Those girls went into town today, it seemed like the Luna had to drag Sana along with her,” she chuckled, clearly a pack member who was fond of the two women. “Did you want me to tell them you stopped by?”

“No! I mean—no need to worry them about my visit, I can talk to them tomorrow, thank you.”

He swiftly departs, deciding to just head home instead of back to the office for some peace.

“Joonie!”

Barely having set foot in his residence, Namjoon is bombarded with the irritating scent of laundry detergent. It’s too pungent; overwhelming in a way that he’s never experienced before. He catches himself before his nose wrinkles and Everlight ascends into his arms. He hugs her back, planting a soft kiss to the side of her head in an endearing manner before she pulls him into the dining room for an early dinner with his parents. 

Namjoon spends the evening engaged in conversation with his parents and Everlight, avoiding talks of the ceremony as best he can—despite his mother and girlfriend's best attempts. His dad eyes him warily—in that cunning way that only another Alpha can—sensing the change in the dynamics within the room. Namjoon is grateful his father remains quiet, simply watching the conversation over the nightcap of barrel-aged Cabernet Sauvignon from their cellar.

Once they call it a night and his parents disappear to their room, Everlight begs Namjoon to stay over, and unable to say no to the woman he’s never said no to before, he relents. He regrets this decision almost immediately, as his hopes that Everlight would help him take his mind off of the one thing that’s been at the forefront of it are crushed.   

“She’s just really good at healing. She knows a lot, like I can’t believe I’m even admitting it, but she knows things that I don’t. And the things I have been able to teach her, she learns it so quickly and easily. I’m actually kind of jealous.”

Namjoon can tell; Everlight’s face is scrunched up in a way that makes her look unattractive, and he doesn’t know what to do or to say to make her feel less insecure. 

“Maybe it’s a good thing she is joining our pack. It’s important to learn and grow continuously.” It’s as diplomatic as he can be at the moment.

“Yes, but she’s trained as a Luna, just like me. It’s a little like she’s trying to take my spot. Yesterday, while I was teaching, the other girls asked her to teach them something I didn’t know, and I just had to stand there and let her take over my lesson. The girls were so focused on her and taking notes, it made me kind of hate her.”

She’s looking at him, her eyes trying to find something within his, but he looks away, reaching for the light next to his bed.

Everlight reaches for him, aligning her body to his as her fingers grip his shoulders so she can position herself atop him.

“That’s why I can’t wait for the ceremony, baby. We can finally be a true, mated pair. Start our forever, with me as your Luna. No room for confusion from the pack about who will bear your pups.” Her eyebrows waggle up and down suggestively as she lowers her lips to his plump ones. “We can practice now if you want, you can scent me, let all the bitches in heat know to back off.” She kisses him again. 

Namjoon kisses her back, but her laundry odor fills his nasal cavity and her words are so off-putting for the role she hopes to take on for the pack. He can feel her hands travel down his ribcage, but nothing about her touch turns him on. Pulling away from the kiss, he catches his breath as he readies his excuse.

“Babe, I think we should wait,” his large hands hold her shoulders firmly before his touch grows softer, palms smoothing up and down her arms in a soothing motion. “The ceremony is so soon, and I want it to be sacred…I know that might sound cheesy and un-Alpha-like but—”

“No, you’re right.” Everlight smiles softly at him, but he can see the hurt in her eyes at being rejected. “I’m just feeling overwhelmed with all of the new pack members and the changes happening, I think I got a little over excited.”

“I love that about you, you know? You’re excitement over things, and how you want to be the best version of yourself for our pack. You’re already an amazing Luna in your own right.”

Everlight excuses herself to the bathroom, and Namjoon clambers off his bed, bare feet leading him towards his cracked bedroom window. In the light of the almost full moon, he can now see the noises that drew his attention moments ago: returning members of his pack walking down the path to their homes. 

There’s no mistaking it now. A warmth blooms from his groin, spreading higher until his neck grows hot from it as his nose and mouth feel thick with the sweetest bourbon honey scent. With you unaware of his gaze as you laugh with Seokjin and Sana, he feels jealousy boiling into his chest.

“Mine.”

🌕🌕🌕 Friday - Full Moon

You wake up late on Friday morning, your body a little stiff and sore. You feel as if you slept with a heater on, sleep clothes clinging to your body due to the sweat that covers your skin. You try to shake it off, but the feeling doesn’t go away, even after a cold shower.

You’re not surprised you woke up mid afternoon after arriving back at Highcrest near midnight, but you suppose the excitement of what’s to come will keep you awake the rest of the evening. You have to meet the elders for the pre-ceremony rituals at the start of moonrise, so you eat a light snack in the hopes it won’t trouble your stomach too much. 

You know now that Sana is right. Your heat will kick in no later than tomorrow afternoon, with the confirmation of the night sweating and soreness symptoms appearing today, but you worry about what it will mean if you end up not being chosen…you’ll begin cramping and sink into Omega-space, leaving you vulnerable to other higher ranking pack members without a plan prepared to get you through your heat.

At quarter till six, you leave your home with a small bag of items and head to city hall, where Elder Aline waits for you and the other Omegas who planned to join the ceremony to arrive. Elder Aline was old—she worked closely with the Luna three times removed was in power, and lived to prepare both of her successors, and now would be helping to prepare this ceremony. 

You hug your bag to your chest as the last of the group arrives: Everlight. She only looks slightly surprised to see you in the group of seven Omega’s, but she fixes her facial features quickly and offers you a bright smile. 

“I didn’t expect to see you in the group!” Everlight’s tone is friendly enough, but the undercurrent of her words screams out territorial.

“Oh, yeah, my roommate said I should come as an unmated Omega to take part in the ceremony. It’s different from our previous pack’s tradition, and if I hope to carry out my duties and help with future ceremonies, the best way to learn is to be part of it, right?”

Your answer makes sense, perfectly curated to help push away any questions that dig too deep into your motivations, including yourself. Part of you knew that it would be beneficial to you if the worst comes to fruition, but the other part, the more primitive part, knows the real reason is because the wolf inside of you longs for your mate to be Kim Namjoon.  

Elder Aline calls for your attention, her weathered voice a calming stillwater that acts as a soothing balm to the nervous energy in your chest. She speaks to the group, sharing some information about how the rest of the night will play out before she leads your small group towards the outskirts of Highcrest, to the south of a small lake on the edge of the forest. The walk takes a bit of time to navigate the terrain, especially with an Elder leading. 

You allow her moments to pause and rest, clearly fatigued from traipsing through high grasses and uneven dirt, but soon enough you are there, and placed along the treeline, a small clearing awaits you. She makes quick work of explaining the first ritual’s steps, and you allow her voice to lead you through the routine. 

The cleansing ritual itself takes the better part of an hour, as everyone planning to participate strips down to enter the water under the light of the moon which now grazes the top of the trees. A small pouch filled with herbs and petals is handed to each of you to rid you of any lingering outside scents. You lather your skin, taking the time to clean every inch before stepping out to air dry. It’s colder than you expected, but no one wants to risk masking their scent for the ceremony. 

The elder had laid a simple white dress on the shore of the lake near your bag, and once dry, you sheathed your body with it, happy for the fabric to provide some warmth. She pulls a thermos from her bag along with small cups.

“Purified under the new moon,” she intones, handing you a steaming cup of tea. “Red azaleas, to pull out your emotions and attract your true mate.”

You sip it slowly, letting the heat warm your hands. The other women join you after the elder gives them each a cup, and you huddle in a circle, trying to stay warm.

“I think it’s good that we have so many of us for the ceremony,” Everlight speaks, her voice light and airy. “It would be a boring ceremony if I was here by myself.”

Her words were clearly chosen carefully, meant to sound like a compliment to the others for their company, while laying claim to the role not yet given to her by the moon. You bristle, feeling your body heat up. Her comments were starting to annoy you, because a true Luna was not insecure or haughty. She was a healer, a person that others could go to when they needed strength, compassion, or empathy. Everlight seemed to have forgotten this. 

“I think it is great that Highcrest’s tradition is different from ours, it feels more…pure.” You don’t know how else to describe it, but the act of having the alpha choose his mate through this ceremony feels like how it used to be. The elder hears you and her words confirm this. 

“This is the true ceremony. But come now, it is about time for us to begin.”

She leads you around to the north side of the lake. A small copse of trees had blocked the incoming sight, and now that you were closer, you could see the small gathering of pack members standing in a crescent.  

Directing you to step into the open space, she takes your cups from each of you as the seven of you line up with ample space between each other. You look around nervously. The cold you felt earlier when you were wet and naked exiting the lake was gone; you notice that you feel hot. You’ve felt hot since drinking the tea.

The crowd murmurs quietly to one another as you look around for Sana, finally finding her to the right near the top point of the moon shape they were standing in. She waves at you, a smile breaking across her face as she takes you in. 

All at once the noise in the forest dies out. The muttering follows suit, and Elder Aline steps before the crowd. 

“Before the great divide of the tribal lands, the Alpha’s mate was never set in stone until the ceremony was completed. Even if the Alpha had taken many lovers as a young pup, it matters not, for what the moon reveals is the truth. And an Alpha dare not disobey the moon, lest the pack fall weak.”

She then begins her tale of the history of the original tribe they descended from. 

“Many, many moons ago, we once existed as a proud and noble pack led by an Alpha of unmatched strength and wisdom named Lycaon. Under his reign, our pack thrived, united as one for the good of the group. We honored the ancient laws dictated by the phases of the moon, for we knew the moon's power was both a gift and a curse. Before the divide, we could shapeshift along with the phases of the moon.

But Lycaon, with his pride swelling within him like a thunderous storm cloud, began to question the moon's choice for his fated mate. He refused his fated Omega, instead choosing who he wanted, and not who our celestial goddess knew our pack needed. Ignoring the warnings of his most trusted Betas, Lycaon decided that his unborn son would also choose his own mate, not the moon.

At first, this defiance seemed to have no negative impact. But before long, cracks began to appear between pack members. By refusing the moon's guidance, the pack ended up with an Alpha-chosen Luna who was not prepared for her role. The rejected Luna fell melancholy, and took her own life, saying she could not watch the ruin of her pack. Some wolves found themselves unable to control their shifting, and began to attack their own kin in fits of madness. Other pack members grew weak—their bodies unable to withstand the impact of their dual nature.”

The entire crowd was enraptured hearing the tale, as Duskfall members did not know the history, and you are among them in learning the true history of the divide.

“As chaos descended upon our once-proud pack, Lycaon's authority waned as the full moon wanes. Desperate to maintain his grip on the pack, he resorted to ruling the pack with fear instead of respect. But his efforts only fueled the flames of discord, and soon, the pack was torn asunder by fights and betrayal.

In the aftermath of our pack's collapse, three new packs rose from the one, each led by a different wolf claiming to be the one true Alpha. They fought for the lands we stand upon today, with Lycaon’s son, Claudin, taking the hills to found Highcrest, and the other two packs fighting over the lower grounds.  Claudin knew that in order to reclaim the strength and glory we had lost, he must not allow pride or the greed for power seduce him into betraying the moon.”

A low murmur swept through the crowd. You knew your former packmates had the same thoughts running through their mind as you did—could this really be true? Was Alpha Tyvrin’s downfall predestined to happen in order to reunite the original pack? Elder Aline coughs, and you focus back on her.

“And so, this tale of Alpha Lycaon and our pack serves as a tale of caution for generations, a reminder of the dangers of hubris and the importance of respecting the ancient laws that govern our kind. Alpha Claudin rectified the treachery his father had done unto the moon, but we shall never shift again as punishment.”

A quiet settles upon the crowd, and the elder gestures to a group of children you didn’t notice before. They step towards each of you, and she asks you all to kneel. The small child before you has a face like a cherub, full cheeks pulled tight as he shows his teeth to you, eyes disappearing in his delight. 

He bequeaths a length of dark fabric, and his hands move so as to wrap the ends around your face, deftly knotting it behind your head. When you feel him step away, you stand back to full height. Your other senses are heightened, anxiety blossoming at what comes next. You hear footsteps, and sounds of awe and admiration sweep across the crowd stealing your nerves. You freeze in anticipation. 

“Alpha Namjoon has done what we once thought impossible, uniting two tribes where whence was three, and we must continue to follow the moon’s guidance. We must not deceive ourselves. The moon will not lead us wrong. It will not lead him wrong.”

Seconds tick by as you wait, eyes furiously trying to see through the thick material stealing your sight. Seconds turn into minutes and you can hear the faint rustling of bare feet traveling across the grass, the weighted foot falls accompanied by heavy inhales of the still air surrounding the area. You know the Alpha has entered the clearing—can feel a palpable shift in the energy as your body grows hotter by the second. His scent sings to you, and you whine lowly, wanting to follow it.

Again, the crowd responds to something unseen by you, this time it has your inner wolf crouching, tail down and ears back—showing submission. Another whine escapes you, a little louder this time. Your distress must be filling the area around you, you can sense the crowd’s movement, reacting to your scent. You begin to panic, fearing that a distressed scent would push the Alpha to choose another, not the scared, submissive and pathetically whining bitch in heat—

🌕🌕🌕 Friday - Full Moon 

Namjoon walks up to the clearing surrounded by his closest advisors, some of whom had been absent patrolling the borders and securing their land the past several weeks, and returned in time for the ceremony. As he approaches, the sounds in the forest quickly fade, as if sensing his arrival.

He waits for his signal to enter the clearing, far enough away that he can only smell the crowd of his pack members standing between him and the clearing where the Omegas will stand. Namjoon spent all day in the forest, away from town preparing for the ritual by hunting for game to be used for the meal to feed his mate before the knotting. He also had to follow the same cleansing tradition, bathing under the light of the full moon, drinking the purified new moon tea, and dressing in loose, white linen pants.

He tried his best to clear his mind from the events of the previous evening, and once he was away from the bustle of the town square, he found it easier to convince himself it was just a fluke. After years of being with Everlight, the idea of being fully committed must have made him feel a bit scared, so he latched onto the idea of something new, someone different…you. 

Now, after his mindful afternoon in the forest, he knows he just has to trust the moon will lead him to Everlight, his mate. He knows her scent, knows it like he knows the taste of his mom’s cooking or the sound of his father’s favorite whiskey bottle opening.

As the moon climbs higher, he waits, steadily listening as the crowd quiets and Elder Aline speaks, recounting the tale of the original tribe. As she gets close to finishing her tale, Namjoon is tapped on the shoulder by Beta Taehyung, who motions to the blindfold in his hand. 

“It’s time, Alpha.”

Namjoon nods, taking the blindfold from the younger male and covering his dragon-shaped orbs. He fastens the knot, and he senses when another one of his trusted Betas approaches him. 

“I have the pouch here. Make sure to smell it deeply before—” 

Beta Jungkook is interrupted by Namjoon. “I know, I know. Smell it deeply before I let my inner wolf out to track my mate.” He lifts an open palm so Jungkook can place the small, organza fabric reticule into his hand.

When he hears his name, he knows that’s his signal. He follows the sound of the elder’s voice to enter the clearing.

“Alpha Namjoon has done what we once thought impossible, uniting two tribes where whence was three, and we must continue to follow the moon’s guidance. We must not deceive ourselves. The moon will not lead us wrong. It will not lead him wrong.” 

Raising the small sack to clear his olfactory senses, he inhales a piece of his own clothing, a small handkerchief he kept on him all week. A trick using olfactory habituation to cleanse his palate from the surrounding smells, allowing him to only smell his mate. The crowd shifts, he can hear stilted murmurs about his physique being on display since he was shirtless as he walks past his pack. 

Stepping fully into the clearing, he inhales deeply, and instantly he picks up the laundry scent that he’s so used to being surrounded by. It’s definitely Everlight’s scent—he’s almost positive—but it has an edge to it, a slight tinge that he’s not used to smelling. The longer he stands there, the more the scent morphs into a cloying, headache inducing smell. It’s almost fake, a manufactured scent that doesn’t entice him. 

He steps away from the smell of it, noting an undercurrent of something nice. The crowd reacts, confused at his actions, but he doesn’t care. He knows he has to trust the moon. And that bourbon-honey scent? He wants more of that. Lifting the pouch again to his nose to rid it of the sickly sweet smell, he drops his hand after a few inhalations, allowing the soft honey smell to seep into his pores. It’s alluring, growing more seductive by the moment, but then it takes on the additional bitter scent of anxiety, and Namjoon worries that something is wrong. 

He can feel his inner wolf scratching to get closer, to protect, to save his mate—when he steps closer, the crowd reacts again, so he grabs at his blindfold, tearing it free so that he can get to you. He needs to calm you down, you need to feel safe, to know that your Alpha is here to protect you. He’s closer to you than expected, and the whine you let out calls to him in more ways than one. 

His body feels alight with flames, he can see you’re trembling. His hand moves without him thinking, gripping the blindfold and tugging it up and off your head. 

🌕🌕🌕 Friday - Full Moon 

The light of the moon feels blinding as you blink to adjust your eyes to the sudden return of your sight before it’s eclipsed by the broad body of the Alpha. His breaths are almost frantic, a heavy panting that moves his shoulders with each exhalation as his wild eyes roam your face. His neck gland is hidden by a tied piece of cloth, masking his scent partially and you want to bury your face into him, seeking safety and comfort. 

Your body responds to his proximity almost immediately, a simultaneous calming of the mind’s anxiety as physically you feel engulfed in a blaze, a sweat finally breaking out along your hairline as you’re thrown into full heat. Namjoon’s nostrils flare as he inhales you, his face looking triumphant as he kneels on one knee before you. He reaches for your hands, which tremble as he locks eyes with you. 

“Namjoon, what the hell?!” Everlight stands several omegas down from you, her face free of the blindfold, which now dangles from her fingertips at her side. She doesn’t move for a moment, not until she realizes the Alpha was not responding to her. Her steps don’t falter as she gets closer to you, but your scent grows sour as you take in the murderous look on her face.

Namjoon’s movements are quick and fluid. He stands and postures himself, keeping you protected behind him as he shoves Everlight back with one hand.

“Mine,” he growls. Everlight drops the blindfold, confusion blossoming upon her face. 

Namjoon turns to you, grasping your cheeks gently in his hands. “Mate.”

He throws his head back, and lets out a loud howl to the moon. 

Chaos ensues. The entire field grows loud as some pack members celebrate the ceremony’s success, while others gossip about the outcome. You can hear snippets of the conversations until another voice grows louder, shouting at the Alpha. It’s Everlight, your brain registers, she’s angry, her sour scent wafting in your direction as she screams. 

Some Betas you’ve never seen before hold her back, preventing her from coming closer to you and Namjoon. You back up, jostling into him, and the urge you had earlier grows so strong you don’t hold back. Jumping into his arms, you bury your nose into his neck, and you instantly melt against him, fatigued. Namjoon is startled but holds you tightly, and you can feel when he begins to walk swiftly away from the crowd.

You don’t question it, you just let your Alpha lead you to someplace safe. It takes a few minutes before you arrive at a small cottage, its windows lit with a soft glow. You recognize it for what it is—a mating cabin. Set far enough away from the town square that a newly mated Alpha and Luna can have alone time to get through the next few days. 

Namjoon sets you down, but doesn’t let you go. Opening the door, the first thing you see is a pack of water on the small wooden table. It’s one large room, like a studio with an open concept. There’s a small kitchen set up to the left, and straight ahead is a large bed. The sheets are clean and welcoming, and you can feel your body beginning to cramp as your heat kicks in. 

You knew it was coming—the low-grade fever, mild cramping, and more recently, increased slick and pheromone production ever since Namjoon touched you in the clearing. You shuffle, uncomfortable as slick leaks out of you, trailing down your thigh slowly.

You can hear Namjoon inhale sharply, before he’s kicking the door shut and grabbing you firmly. He doesn’t speak. His eyes say everything though, the adoration and lust sparkling in the low light in the room. 

“Alpha.” It’s a statement. It’s a request. 

His lips are on yours, devouring, tasting, suckling as if he can’t get enough of you.

“Honey. You taste like sweet bourbon infused honey…it’s intoxicating.” Namjoon kisses you again, this time his lips trail from yours to your neck. He teases you, teeth nipping at the skin as your thighs rub together seeking pleasure as he pulls sinful mewls from your throat. Your hands grip his upper arms, and you try to tug him towards the bed. You need him. You need his knot. 

“Please, Alpha,” you beg, and he shivers in your hold, aroused by your submissiveness. “Need you.”

Namjoon lifts you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist. You grind against him, biting his bottom lip aggressively. You feel so hot—burning up—and he’s the only thing that can cure you from this growing pain. 

Your heat is in full swing, and you can tell it’s triggering your Alpha’s rut. He’s trying to hold back, be gentle and slow, but when you push your leaking core against him, he gives in. His hands fumble with the waistband of his linen pants before his heavy cock springs free, fully erect and searching for your entrance. You move your waist to help the angle of his cock, as one hand holds your hip and the other holds the base of his shaft to align himself. 

When the slight pressure on your slit gives, you thrust forward, forcing him inside you with ease thanks to your copious amounts of slick. You feel full, the head hitting in just the right spot. Attempting to create friction, you try to undulate your hips, but the resulting shockwaves from the tip meeting that sensitive spot causes you to clench around him. 

He freezes, feeling the quickening of your walls and you yelp in surprise when he throws you on the bed. The loss of him inside you feels unfair, but he steps out of his pants and soon crowds your body with his own as he climbs over your body. A firm hand presses into the middle of your upper back, before he grips your hips and pulls them upwards. The dress slides down, revealing your bare backside to him and you feel more than hear the growl he lets out. 

He leans against your body, ripping your dress up until you are able to slide the garment off your arms and throw it to the floor. A smack jolts you forward, but he adjusts you back into place. You feel his thumb drag over your slick covered folds, taunting you. 

“Alpha!” you whine, and he chuckles before realigning his length to your throbbing core. At this angle, he reaches deeper inside of you, and he begins to rock his hips, thrust after thrust inside you. His large hand grips your chin, turning your head to the side. 

“Want to see that pretty face as you cum on my cock, want to hear you cry for me when you take my knot.” His low baritone promises you pleasure beyond your imagination. 

He licks up your spine, kissing and nuzzling into your neck, and you know it's the spot he wants to mark you at. You beg him to do it, but he just shakes his head against your skin. “Not yet, my love.”

He kisses you with every thrust he takes, before sitting up more to pin you down to the bed. His movements grow sharp, hands grabbing at your ass cheeks as he pounds into you. Switching up his movements, you can’t believe he fucks so well when he begins to rotate his hips and slips his thumb into your mouth. You suck on it, drool leaking from your mouth onto the sheets as your legs shake. 

You clench again, involuntarily spasming every few seconds and you know you’re close—you tell him as much. 

“Fuck,” he curses, and you grip the bedsheets as he adjusts his hold on you. His hands move to your hips and he arches your back even more as he speeds up his own movements. They're fluid, your slick making it almost effortless for him to please you, to take you from behind like this until he’s so deep he could feel himself poking through your stomach—

“Take my knot, want you to have my pups, fuck—”he presses his hips flush to your ass, streams of his cum filling you up endlessly as your body wracks with euphoric release. You whine as you feel the intense pressure of his knot filling you before the pain of his marking bite overtakes your senses. 

You feel overwhelmed in a good way, pain giving way to pleasure as the bite seals your mated status and his knot begins to slowly deflate. Once able, Namjoon rolls you over to face him, nuzzling into you as you hold him close. Your heat was sated for the time being, but you knew that soon you would be climbing him once again to meet your needs. 

You wince as his nose grazes your fresh mark and he makes an apologetic face. Standing up from the bed, he grabs a bottle of water for you, twisting the cap off for you and proffering the drink. 

You take a full swallow, quenching the thirst you didn’t realize you had. Heats have a way of making you forget to take care of yourself in that way. The fatigue consumes you, and you drop back down to the bed. Namjoon takes the bottle from you and places it on the side table. His hands massage your calves, working his way along your thighs. His movements could put you to sleep, but you knew as well as he did that this reprieve would not last long. The moon shone through the window casting a faint glowing halo around Namjoon’s head.

He was yours. 

In the moon's tender glow, we're born anew,

The night's canvas echoes our ancient call,

Omegas and Betas, to their knees they fall,

For the Alpha, bound by destiny's fate.

To lead, to fight, to protect, to mate,

In lunar hours, gaze upon the sky,

Let Luna's wisdom be your guiding light,

Her soothing touch to mend wounds that cry.

When crescent rises, we shall rise as one,

Aligned with moonrise, our time has begun.

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