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pars-ley · 5 years ago

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Unbuckle

Prompts: I'm not sure whether I can do this anymore. + You've been spending more and more time away…

Pairing: Namjoon x Reader

Genre: Idol!au / Drabble / Romance / Angst / hint of smut / Drama / Established relationship

Rating: 15+ (sfw)

Warnings: Swearing / making out / hint of foreplay

Word Count: 1286

Summary: Your strained relationship with Namjoon on the rocks, is it something that can be mended or is it time to say goodbye for good?

Notes: Thank you to @rougebangtan @moccahobi and @unoriginal-username15432 for the help on this. The encouragement meant a lot 😘

Namjoon had been home for three days. Just three days. That was all you had before he was having to go off to yet another country. After press conferences, filming and interviews, you'd spent the last four months hardly seeing each other. And now with the tour, the next year wasn't going to be any different.

Texting was fine but there was never much conversation; he was always too tired or busy. Speaking on the phone hardly ever happened because of the time differences and clash of schedules.

You didn't know how you were going to cope, saying goodbye to him again. You wonder if he found it just as hard as you, lately things had seemed...different between the two of you. A lot of negative thoughts had gone through your head; maybe he had slept with someone else, or found someone better, maybe he was just bored with you…something had kept you from expressing your worries. You were afraid. Afraid of what he might reveal, afraid of what it would mean for your relationship.

But today, standing here, while he packed yet again, you're heart physically hurting at having to say yet another goodbye. The idea of being alone again for so much time; you felt tired, mentally and physically, tired of this whole situation. The deep ache of misery in you crying out, something inside finally snapped.

"I'm not sure whether I can do this anymore." You spoke into the silence, your voice sounding foreign to you.

"Do what?" He says, focused on neatly placing his t-shirts in his suitcase.

You swallow hard, mouth suddenly dry. "This. Me and you."

His eyes snap up to yours, wide with alarm. "Why?"

You scoff, shocked at the question. "Are you kidding?"

His face softens, looking hurt as he steps around the bed towards you. You move back away from him with every step, not wanting him to stop you from getting this all out. "I know it's been difficult y/n," he starts.

"Difficult! I can handle difficult, Joon! Difficult was when we first got together and had to build our entire relationship while spending so much time apart. We got past that. But this...this?" You indicate between the two of you. "You feel like a stranger to me, Joon. You barely speak to me, barely acknowledge my existence." You begin to soften, sadness gripping your heart in a vice. "You've been spending more and more time away…"

He closes the distance between you, lightly taking your hand in his. "I'm sorry, baby. I'm sorry." He bends down slightly so he's eye level; ensuring you meet his pleading gaze. "I know I've been distant," he rubs his face with his hand. "It's how I've been coping with missing you."

Your face drops, annoyance spreads across your features.

He holds both palms up, silently asking you to let him continue but you can't. Anger boils inside you, flying to the surface before you can stop it.

"Don't give me that bull!" I spit. "'I've been ignoring you because I miss you' give me a break, Namjoon. I'm not an idiot. If there's someone else, I'd rather you just be an adult about it and tell me now."

His eyes pop. "What!? No, there's no one! How could there be? It's only you," he steps towards you, taking your hand in his; clinging to it. "It's only ever been you."

His eyes are so open and honest you have no choice but to believe him. Your anger dies down but your confusion grows.

"I don't fucking understand? Why does it feel like you don't want me around you anymore?" Tears burn your eyes as your voice sounds into the heavy atmosphere, thick with emotion.

He sits down on the bed, head hung in his hands and lets out a long exhale. "I’m such a fucking idiot." He looks up at you and you're shocked to see his eyes welled up with tears. "I'm so sorry."

You join him, sitting next to him on the bed.

He grabs your hand. "Please, please just give me another chance, don't go."

You sigh, your tears finally spilling onto your face. He crouches in front of you, wiping the wet trails away. "Do you still want me?" You ask, feeling insecure in yourself and your relationship.

He puts his head in your lap; wrapping his arm around your calves and squeezing your legs together tight. He looks up at you with pleading eyes. "Of course I do. I'm so sorry I've made you feel this way, I'm a selfish idiot. I've only been distant because I was struggling with not seeing you and being away." He sighs and wipes his eyes with the back of his shirt sleeve. "I was very, very low and in order to carry on doing my job and not quitting completely, I switched myself off. I found myself in a place, where I was separating myself from you without even realising. It was only when I could tell you seemed distant from me I knew I should stop...but I couldn't. It was easier to cope.” He was on his knees in between your legs now, holding your face in his hands. “I know, I’m an arsehole and selfish and stupid and I don’t deserve you but please...please forgive me y/n. I promise I’ll fix this. I promise I'll be a better man for you.” He seems so desperate in this moment you found yourself weak for him, your resolve wavering. He gently wipes the tears from your face and places a gentle kiss to your lips. “Please, don’t leave me.” He whispers.

That was it. How could you leave, now? It’s not what you wanted at all. You were determined to make this relationship work. He was the one for you, without a doubt, you’d been sure of that fact ever since you’d met him.

But would anything actually change? He would still be leaving tomorrow without you and you'd be alone.

He continues to press soft, hesitant kisses to your lips and the heat inside you rises quickly, burning like a furnace. Any questions or worries you have fade in your mind as your lust for him grows. The feeling of him touching you was something you had craved and missed.

You grab him at the back of the neck and kiss him hungrily; all tongue and teeth clashing. His hands are on you, everywhere, just as eager. You push his shirt off his shoulders as he pulls his arms out of the sleeves, discarding the fabric harshly across the room. He pulls your top over your head, his lips finding yours again instantly, while he unbuckles his belt and pushes you back, flat against the bed. He leans back to look at you, his large hands sliding up your thighs, pushing your skirt up around your waist. Your heart pounds so hard you’re sure your chest must be visibly vibrating. He slowly pulls off your lace panties and groans when he sees you laid bare before him.

“You are beautiful. I’m so lucky.” He climbs on top of you, cupping your cheek with one hand. “Never leave me.” He murmurs pleadingly as he places wet kisses down your neck, driving you wild.

“Never.” You moan, unable to hold back the sounds of your pleasure. Your skin feels as if it’s on fire; desire burning in your veins. You claw at his back out of desperation, your body longing to be sated. Just when you think you can’t take it anymore, just when you think you’re going to explode out of sheer frustration, you finally hear the sound of his zipper.

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blu-joons · 5 years ago

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He Calls You Clingy ~ Kim Namjoon

You knew his day had been hard as soon as you heard his voice when he picked up the phone. Times were hard, and stressful, so you decided to head to the studio to keep Namjoon company. You made sure to take plenty of food with you too to make sure he was healthy.

His frame was laid back in his chair when you found him, headphones firmly sat on his head, eyes fixed on the screen in front of him trying to perfect the demo.

You kept quiet, unpacking a few pieces of food before finally walking over, removing the headphones from his head. He glanced up, sighing when he saw you, placing the food in front of him. “I’m not hungry,” he stated, pushing it away.

Your hands moved it back, moving up to massage through his hair, calming him.

His eyes rolled, shrugging you away, sliding his chair away from you. “Joon, I came here to look after you, you’ve been stressed, don’t be rude.

He stared up at you, eyes wide in horror. It was then he noticed how much you’d brought, determined to make sure he looked after himself, bringing him plenty of food and drink, as well as his favourite hoodie from home to relax in.

“Just let me in,” you smiled, walking over, wrapping your arms around his shoulders, resting your head on top of his. “Why don’t you tell me what you’re working on?”

“It’s nothing,” he mumbled.

Something wasn’t right, he was never moody with you. You frowned, looking down at him to try and look into his eyes, but he stared away from you, ignoring everything you did.

“Why don’t you just let me look after you? I’ve barely seen you all week,” you whispered, pressing several kisses along his jaw line. He continued to disengage, carrying on as if you weren’t in the room.

His cold behaviour was only frustrating you further, you couldn’t believe how rude he was being, it was so uncharacteristic.

“There’s a reason you haven’t seen me all week,” he mumbled under his breath. You heard every word, spinning his chair around forcefully to look at you.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

He dropped his phone on the desk, finally bringing himself to look up at you. “You’ve just been so clingy recently, it’s annoying, I’m trying to work, you’re not my priority all the time.”

“Right.”

Instantly, your heart sunk whilst tears threatened to spill. You didn’t want him to see you upset, spinning on your heels, gathering everything you’d bought to the studio, placing it back in all the bags.

You appreciated that he was going through a lot right now, you’d always supported him through it all, but after you’d heard how he really felt, you couldn’t help but question yourself. Had you cared too much all the time?

Without responding, you walked straight out of the studio, the loud slam of the door making him jump. His room became empty, throwing his head back, realising what he’d said.

He couldn’t leave the studio straight away, you’d need time to calm down, but he was full of regret. He saved his work, and sent off the last of his emails, before heading straight back home, in the hope that you’d still be there.

The room was silent when he stepped in, but the glimmer of light in your bedroom gave him hope. He crept in, finding you laid out across the bed, wiping under your eyes with the sleeves of your jumper. Slowly, he sat down on the bed, as you shifted further away from him, keeping your distance to make your point clear. He sighed heavily, resting his hand on your thigh, surprised when you didn’t react.

“Look, I didn’t mean what I said earlier,” he spoke, “I’ve just been stressed, and I took it out on you, when I shouldn’t have. I know your heart was in the right place, and you were just looking out for me. You aren’t clingy, far from it, I shouldn’t have that said, it was careless, and irresponsible.”

“You obviously meant it if you said it, you didn’t even take a second to think.”

You turned on your hip, glancing back at his exhausted frame. He was struggling to keep himself upright at this point, desperately wanting to lay down beside you and find comfort wrapped in your arms.

“In the heat of the moment, I said it. I wanted space, I’ll admit, but clingy was the wrong choice of word. You came to the studio because you care, and you look after me, and you wanted to make sure I was taking care of myself.”

“Do you think I’m clingy? Be honest?” You asked.

Immediately his head shook, this time he didn’t need a second to think. “No. I love your cuddles and your affection, it’s one of my favourite things about you. Your love is what I love coming home to everyday, it’s what keeps me going on the tough days. You’re not clingy, I promise.”

You turned your body to face him, looking up at him through your glossy eyes. He looked down, succumbing to his tiredness, laying down beside you. Cautiously, he stretched his arm out, giggling when your body rolled into it.

“I get that things are tough Joon, but it really hurt. I just wanted to show up to give you a boost and make sure you were looking after yourself.”

“I appreciate that, I was rude, and there’s no taking that back. I regretted it instantly, it was uncalled for. I love you, everything about you, you could never be too clingy for me, sometimes you’re not clingy enough.”

Your arm draped over his chest, feeling his head rest on top of yours. He pressed a soft kiss to your hairline. His eyes drooped shut, relaxed by the feeling of your arms. Your lips rested hazily on his chest, tugging lightly at the material of his chest.

“Are you still hungry, all the food is downstairs still?” You asked, brushing your hand over his cheek.

He shook his head in response, content in a sweet slumber. “Food can wait. I just want to sleep for a bit and relax. Will you lay with me, and cuddle?”

“Of course,” you giggled, tightening your grip around him. “Get some rest and try and forget about everything that’s worrying you for a while.”

“I will, thank you jagi.”

---

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persephonelovesbts · 5 years ago

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Quarantine

Namjoon x Reader

Rating: PG-13

Category: 💞

WC: 475 (drabble)

AO3 Link

Summary: Based on those Tik-Toks where people kiss their crushes and the current quarantine

You scrolled through tik-tok and watch all the cute ass reactions of people kissing their best friend that they have crushes on. You bite your lip in thought. It makes you think of Namjoon, your roommate that you might be a little in love with. You think about what could happen if you just went and kissed Joon. It might be a terrible idea. You are currently quarantined with him for who knows how long and if it goes bad…

You shake the negative thoughts out of your head. Fuck it.

You walk out into the living room where Namjoon is watching TV and scrolling through something on his phone. You walk over and pull his phone out of his hand.

“Hey-” he starts but you cut him off by kissing him.

When you pull away he stares at you. You swallow. Fuck. Fuck. You fucked up. You fucked up. You-

Then he rushes forward and grabs your face and kisses you back. He moves so fast you fall back onto the couch and he’s on top of you. Holy shit.

He pulls back with a dimpled smile, “Sorry,” he blushes, “I wasn’t expecting that.”

Now it’s your turn to blush. You cover your face. “So that was okay?” you mumble into your hands.

He bites his lip as he smiles, “Yeah, you’ve been watching a lot of tik-tok, haven’t you?” he chuckles.

“Maybe, but I didn’t record that for it. I wanted it to just be us and if you had rejected me I wouldn’t want the world to know.” You blab.

He pulls your hands away from your face, “You’re so cute.” He kisses your lips again.

You can’t help but giggle, “Quarantine is going to be a lot more fun now.”

He smirks now, “Oh yeah it is.” His face is darker now.

Your eyes go wide. Oh shit, you knew Joon had big Daddy energy but fuck this was different. You liked it. You liked it a lot. “H-how so?”

He smirks down at you, “Well, I guess that depends,” he leans in close and touches his nose to yours, “Do you want to be my girlfriend?”

A smile spreads across your face and you nod quickly, “Yes!” you squeal and lean up to kiss him again.

He chuckles and kisses you back. He pulls back and kisses your forehead, “Not to ruin the mood, but does that mean we can fuck?”

You can’t help the laugh that bursts out of your mouth a little too loudly. You cover your mouth when you see the shocked look on his face, “I’m- ahaha- I’m sorry.” you clear your throat, “I’m sorry. I wasn’t expecting that.” You clear your throat again, “But like yeah duh.” you giggle.

He bites his lip then quickly lifts you up and runs, rather clumsily, to his bedroom.

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kpoptrashlord-007 · 5 years ago

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Letters To Santa;; KNJ

Day Four Of The KPOP Christmas Drabble Challenge

RM x Reader

Word Count;; 700

Genre;; Angst

Summary;;

You look over some treasured letters as your children write their letter to Santa.

Main Masterlist || BTS Masterlist

Darling,

today has been long.

Though my day is nowhere near through,

thoughts of you help me through it.

If you're struggling,

I hope you'll think of me,

and smile again.

Your loving husband, Namjoon.

"Mama! Santa will bring our wish?"

You glanced down at your children as they scribbled on a piece of paper with crayons. "Of course, if you're good."

"Okay!"

Darling,

have you been thinking about me?

I think of you always.

There isn't a moment that goes by

that isn't occupied wholly by you.

It's foolish to even ask, but please

don't forget me while I'm gone.

Your devoted husband, Namjoon.

Soft giggles filled the room, breaking the silence that was building in your mind. Tearing your gaze from the handwritten letters folded in piles on the mahogany desk, you looked down at your children once more as they worked on their letter. You blinked your eyes free of the wetness accumulating in the corners and sighed.

Spring had arrived.

Sunlight basked the room in a heavenly glow, lightening everything it touched. A light breeze lifted the curtains before they danced down midway to the carpet only to fly up, up, up in an endless cycle. Birds sang outside and the bees buzzed, indulging in the season and all its merits.

It was far too bright for even a hint of darkness to lurk.

Darling,

winter may be cold and dreary,

and autumn may be lonely,

but they pale in comparison

to the long nights spent here

without you, the light of my life.

With love always, Namjoon.

Gentle fingers folded the letter with the utmost care before storing it back into the wooden lock box, right next to many more like it. There was a constant battle raging inside of you on whether to risk damaging the letters by reading them or keeping them pristine and safe, locked away even from you.

Every letter of every word on the paper was filled with his love and emotion, the thought of even a single smudge tainting the page devastated you.

Darling,

I'll be home soon.

This is my promise to you.

Neither hell nor heaven can stop me

from being there for you, them, us.

I've missed too many days with you

but I refuse to miss their first day.

This is my promise to them.

As always, please wait for me and

never forget the love I have for you.

Your Namjoon.

"Mama!"

Your vision blurred as tears streamed down your face. You had taken the risk and now there was a smudge. That ugly, black smudge you had feared for so long was becoming your reality. The letters were fraying on the ends. The ink was fading. His eloquent calligraphy had been stained with your tears and you had no one to blame but yourself and yet you couldn't stop yourself from opening the next letter.

"Mama, don't cry!"

"It's okay," you said, managing to collect yourself enough to speak. "Keep writing for Santa."

"Okay!"

Darling,

nothing pains me more than lying to you

and I'm afraid I've done just that.

I fear I won't be making it home after all.

If this is going to be the end,

I'd rather spend these last moments

in bliss, thinking of you and our unborn children.

I was hoping to be their hero,

the kind of father that they were proud of,

so please tell our children only the best stories of me.

Is it selfish of me to put my happiness

ahead of your own, knowing this will only bring you pain?

I can only hope you'll forgive me.

Please forgive me, darling,

I didn't mean to leave you so early.

If it were up to me,

we would have spent an eternity together.

Your loving husband, forever and always,

Namjoon.

– ♡ – If you enjoyed this, please consider liking, commenting, reblogging, and/or following! Thank you!

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kookadoodle · 6 years ago

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Laundromat Boy

PLOT: Doing your laundry at an odd timing ends up having its perks, when you meet a tall dimpled college boy with a white laundry basket that looks like yours.

PAIRING: Namjoon x reader GENRE: fluff, S2L!AU WARNINGS: none WORDCOUNT: 5.2k A/N: my heart is super soft rn x

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You carry your basket down the steps, hoping to God that you will not fall over from not being able to see your own feet. Your grip is tight around the white plastic of the carrier that holds the week’s load of dirty laundry. Dirty might be a little extreme of a word, since you barely do anything to really get your clothes to that state, but either way, the clothes need to be washed. Due to the late hour, the hallways of your dorm are empty and quiet, which is why you are not listening to music at the moment. Normally, you and your earphones are inseparable, but once every week, when you make your way across campus to do your personal chore, you find yourself leaving them behind. You enjoy the sound of the peaceful silence of the night.

You lean against the door and push it upon, revealing the dark sky and empty campus to yourself. Stepping outside, you let the door slide closed behind you as you are embraced by the slightly cool wind of the autumn air. You breathe it in as you watch the stars lighting up the dark blue canvas on your way to the laundromat. You wonder how it would be if you were able to hang up stars yourself or even take one down to hold for safe keeping. It seems as such a cliché thought, always to mention the stars, but they just seem so vibrant to you on your weekly stroll. There is no one in sight, which should be odd at a college, yet it seems that Monday night is the perfect time to do laundry, since everyone else is in bed early, trying to catch up with the lack of sleep from the night before. That is why you do it after all - to not be bothered by other students trying to hog your machine or steal your detergent. You simply want to do your laundry in peace, and so far, you have managed to do so. You reach the laundromat and step inside, still carrying your basket in your hands. It is entirely quiet in here and all you hear is the sound of your own steps as you enter the empty space. The machines are lined up side by side, and the long table in the middle of the room is perfect for folding newly washed clothes that still carries warmth from the drying-session. You place down your basket on top of the table as you pick out the machines. That is the privilege you get, when you choose an odd timing for doing your chores - you get first pick. All the machines are empty and ready to be chosen by you, which makes you feel in control. You must admit that your perfectionistic brain likes the sight before you, even if it sounds like a weird kink or something. You choose the first and second machine, since 12 is your favorite number and you open them up, before getting your basket. You place the carrier down on the floor below the open lid of the first washer as you start filling it up with your color-sorted laundry. You start with the whites, placing them inside and closing the lid before sliding the basket to the next machine. As you bend down to pick up some of your darker clothes, you hear the door to the laundromat being opened from behind you. You straighten up and look to see who is entering your quiet space. A tall silver-haired boy walks in and closes the door behind him. There he is. It does not surprise you to see him again, since he has been coming here the last couple of Mondays to wash his own clothes. Maybe he had cracked the code to a stress-free zone like you, enjoying the chillness of the late laundromat trips. Unlike you, he does not leave his earphones at home as he always listens to music during his whole time being here, proving he does not come here for the silence like you do, but for something else. He carries his own white plastic basket with him and looks up to meet your eyes as he enters the space. As he sees you, a kind smile spreads on his lips, showing off his cute dimples. He gives you a small nod, greeting you, and you smile back before you both look away to mind your own business. You do not know who he is. You have seen him once or twice outside the laundromat, but you do not even know his name or share a single class with him. He has, however, captured your attention. He makes his way to the opposite end of the machines, presumably wanting to give you your space, which you quietly appreciate. Not that you would mind him being closer, but you like the respect it shows. It seems to be a favorable character trait of his. He is always wearing a pair of sweats and a loose-fitted t-shirt that accentuates his lean, yet toned shape. You look away after finding yourself staring a bit too long at him, but he does not seem to have noticed as he is in deep thought. His music is not loud enough for you to make out what it is he listens to, but you imagine that he likes rap or some sort of pop-genre. It would not surprise you, though, if he had his own unique type of taste. You guess it is in the way he carries himself. He seems relaxed and somewhat content even with doing a boring chore like this one. You shake your head a little, trying to snap out of your trance. Maybe the late hour does play tricks on your sleepy mind, making you daydream about cute dimpled college boys and their taste in music. You tease a smile at yourself as you continue with filling up the second machine. When your basket is empty, you close the lids and fill in the detergent and fabric softener. The lids click as they are locked in place, and you lift a hand to set the settings of the usual wash. Suddenly, you hear a deep sigh from the other end of the line, making you turn your head in his direction. He has filled up his machines, yet something seems to be bothering him, since his gaze has fallen to his feet. He lifts his head up, and you quickly look away, returning your panicked eyes to the small numbers on the screen of the washer. You sense him looking at you, and you just hope he did not notice your odd flinch at his casual movements or your prying eyes on him. You press the green button on each of the machines, starting them off, and soon the clothes start spinning around behind the glass lid as water and soap dances along with it. The familiar sound of the rhythmical circulation soothes you. “Uhm, excuse me?” you then hear a soft voice say from beside you. You turn your head and meet his eyes as he holds his earphones in the palm of his right hand. They no longer occupy his ears, which means now, he is actually able to hear you - which he is currently waiting to do. “Y-yes?” you stutter, immediately feeling a bit embarrassed by your silly shyness. It has got to be the time and the place that make you so self-conscious, since normally, you would not mind talking to a stranger. Of course, it is not every stranger you meet that has such endearing features as his. “I don’t wanna bother you, but I forgot my soaps at my dorm, and I wondered if you could maybe let me borrow some of yours?” he asks politely with a soft expression. Hearing his voice for the first time startles you a little, since it is deeper than you had initially thought, yet so pleasant and calming to listen to. “Of course,” you say, taking your soaps and handing them to him. He sighs with a relieved smile. “Thank you so much,” he says as he receives it. Your fingers graze in the exchange, making you both chuckle a bit nervously. Your eyes meet, and his dimples show again from his smiling expression, and you study them a bit closer this time without being too obvious. He then steps back to his machines and fills in the soaps, seemingly trying to use as little as possible of your stuff. He turns them both on, pressing the green buttons and making them begin swirling around like yours do. He returns to you and hands it back, immediately thanking you again. “I owe you one,” he says. “Don’t worry about it,” you say, shrugging as you place down the soaps in your empty basket on the floor. “I’m Namjoon, by the way,” he then says, reaching out his palm towards you. You meet his, and your soft skins touch as you shake each other’s hands. “I’m Y/N,” you say back, earning a slowly growing smile from him by the sound. “Y/N…” he repeats softly as if storing it in his memory for later use. His grip on you is gentle, and it lingers a few more seconds than what would be considered natural. You do not mind, though. You like the way his warmth embraces you. He slides his hands in the pockets of his sweat as he leans back to rest against the table behind you, suggesting that he is not planning on retreating to his own side of the room again. “Can I ask you something, Y/N?” he says, running a hand through his silver locks that actually look more like a matte grey up close and definitely soft. You ponder on how it would feel to run your own hand through it, but quickly discard the thought, realizing it is a little strange to be wondering about. You nod at his question as you sit yourself on the table next to him, yet still keeping a comfortable distance. “I don’t want it to sound like a line or anything, but what are you doing here so late at night?” he asks, shyness slightly evident in his voice as his eyes study his feet. You sigh as you think of what to say. “Well, I like the quiet here at night. It makes it so peaceful here for some reason,” you explain, hoping not to sound too edgy for his liking. He seems to be captured by what you say, though, since his gaze his back on you, studying your face as you talk. He listens intently as you speak of the calming effect the night and the quiet sounds have on you, and how you like to bring a book sometimes to read, while you wait for your clothes to get done. “What about you?” you ask, hoping to switch the focus onto him for a bit. “I don’t come here for the quiet, exactly, but I do like how peaceful it is, since there is no one around. Except you, of course,” he smiles, sitting back on the table beside you, slouching his shoulders to show comfort in his position. “I like talking to you, though, don’t get me wrong,” he adds, hoping he has not offended you. You chuckle at that, letting him know that you know what he means. “I like talking to you to,” you say. “What were you listening to?” you ask, gesturing to the earphones that still rest in his palms. He looks down at them as if he had forgotten they were even there. “Right, I was just listening to a few tracks of my own, actually,” he says as he fiddles with them between his fingers. “Really?” you ask, surprised at how it suddenly changes your image of him just a bit. It is not that he does not seem as the creative type, but more that it actually fits his personality extremely well now that you think about it. At least from what you can tell from your first impression of him. “Can I hear it?” you then ask boldly, hoping it will not scare him off. You blame the time and the place yet again for your actions, but still want them to pay off for you. He turns his head to look at you, meeting your eyes yet again as if he is considering it. Can he really show something so personal to a girl he has just met? he thinks to himself as he takes in your awaiting features. Your eyes are so calm and inviting, and you seem patient but also hopeful that he will share it with you. It kind of makes him want to do so. He sighs. He cannot believe he is about to do this. “On one condition,” he says, holding up one of the white earphones towards you without giving it to you just yet. “Yes?” you say, scooting a bit closer and turning to face him a bit better. “You have to be completely honest about what you think of it,” he then states, which surprises you a little. You thought he was making you promise not to laugh, since that would be the typical thing to say, but then again, this boy does not seem typical at all. You nod acceptingly of his term, taking the earphone from his hand and placing it in your right ear. “Okay,” he says as he pulls out his phone from his pocket. He opens up his recordings and scrolls through them to choose one that he deems good enough to share with you. He cannot just pick any song at this point, since a part of him is dying a little to impress the cute girl from the laundromat. He had thought about you a few times over the last few weeks, and sitting next to you now, about to show you something he has never showed anyone, makes his heart beat a little faster. He finally picks one. “Ready?” he asks, trying to make sure that you are actually interested in his stuff. “Ready,” you say, leaning in a tad, failing to hide the casual excitement you feel. He takes his last breath. He presses play and lets the sounds seep through the white plugs, revealing his personal thoughts to you through carefully written lyrics and composed melodies of his own. You listen to it intently, focusing on the words and the way his voice is even deeper when he is rapping. It is such a soothing sensation to listen to as the music carries the vocals, complementing his voice just right. He looks at you, studying your features in hopes of reading your thoughts. He was not kidding on it being his last breath, since he feels as if he might actually die if you do not like his song, which is why he finds himself holding his breath while you listen. However, he does not let it show. He is calm and collected, which allows you the room to think. Before you know it, the song ends and Namjoon pauses it before you are handing him back the earphone. “So?” he asks. He wraps the white strings around his phone as he waits to hear your thoughts. “That was really great, honestly. How do you do that?” you state almost dumbfounded at his obvious talent, making him grin with humble pride. “You really like it?” he asks, not wanting to bore you with the actual process of making a track. You nod immediately. “I love it,” you say genuinely, earning a shy smile from him. You catch a glint of his pearly whites just before they are covered by his hand in a flustered giggle. It warms you how easily he melts under your compliments - how easily his confident exterior is replaced by a shyer version of himself. “Thank you,” he says as he collects himself, smile still evident in his features. “It means a lot,” he adds. It surprises him how open he is being towards you, considering he has been trying to gather courage for weeks just to say hi, when your eyes would meet. It seems silly now that you are talking, since everything comes so naturally. He blames the time and place for that. You continue talking about music, both his and what kind you like to listen to. Surprisingly, you know a lot of the same artists and have a few of your favorites in common. The laundromat is suddenly not as quiet as it usually is, but neither of you mind. The atmosphere is nicer this way.

The dryer dings as it comes to an end, making both of you snap out of the bubble you have created around the two of you. Reality starts to sink in. You hop down from the table and make your way towards it with your basket in hand. “I’m getting really tired now,” Namjoon exhales, rubbing his eyes at the sudden realization. He had not spared it a single thought during your talk, but now it is prominent in his body. “Yeah, me too,” you say as you open up the dryer and pull out the clothing to place down into your basket. Namjoon’s clothes are then done as well, and he mimics your actions with his own clothing. You place the white baskets next to each other on the table and start folding the clothes. Usually, Namjoon would just throw it in and leave, but folding it means getting to spend more time with you, so he picks up a shirt and mirror your movements. “Do you have early classes tomorrow?” he asks as he lifts a hand to cover the tired yawn. “Yeah, unfortunately,” you say, earning an understanding nod from him. It does not take long before all the clothing is folded neatly and placed in each of your basket. You step back to check the machines one last time for any disappearing socks, making Namjoon think to do the same. Suddenly, the quiet is interrupted by a ding from his phone. He pulls it out and reads the words of the message from his friend. His brows furrow, making you wonder what it says. “Uhm, I have to go, my friend needs me,” he states as he meets your eyes. “Oh, okay,” you say slightly worried. He steps back and grabs a basket as he types out his reply for his friend. You run a hand on the inside of the machine to find a single sock lying around. You pull it out and wonder how you always seem to miss it the first time you check. “I’ll see you around, Y/N,” he says as he locks his phone and slides it into his pocket. You meet his eyes from across the room and smile at him. “See you around, Namjoon,” you say, and your gazes lock for a second too long before he smiles kindly and steps back, making his way out of the laundromat. You turn back to the dryer, picking up the sock and holding it in your hand. You fiddle the fabric between your fingers as you think about him. His music really was good, but you had not expected anything different after hearing his comforting voice. Deep and raspy, yet slightly fragile at times when he grows shy in your company. You wonder if he is like that with everybody, or if maybe, just maybe, he might feel more comfortable in your presence as you do in his. You sigh to yourself, realizing you are now alone once again, and the room seems more painfully quiet than it did when you first came here. You step back towards your basket to find the sock’s partner, yet something surprises you. Looking down into the white plastic carrier on the table, you notice t-shirts and sweats that do not belong to you. It is not your basket. It is his. Your eyes dart up at the realization, looking towards the door for him, but finding him gone. “Namjoon!” you call out as you run towards the door and pull it open to step outside. You look back and forth for him, but he is long gone by now. You can only see the dark sky and the prominent stars, but not the tall dimpled college boy that accidentally took your basket instead of his own.

------------------------------

You take a sip of your coffee, tasting its caffeinated flavor, hoping it will help your tired state. It is 8 AM, and you are sitting in your morning class, waiting for the professor to walk in and present what he has prepared for today’s lesson. You hate having to be here so early, but at least the subject is one of your favorites. It helps to actually be somewhat interested in what is being said, even though lectures typically end with you almost falling asleep with your head resting on your palm. You pull on the sleeves of your hoodie, covering your hands and crossing your arms as you rest back against the chair. It is probably the third day that you are wearing this shirt, but since the laundromat boy basically stole your clothing, you have no choice but to reuse your last clean outfit, which soon will turn dirty as well. You have not seen him for three days, and you are slowly starting to panic, realizing you probably will not be able to wear this again tomorrow. Being a college student means that you cannot just go out and buy a new set of clothes - at least if you still want to eat that is. “Morning everyone,” the teacher says as he enters the room, receiving a few greetings back. You sigh, knowing you are now going to be locked in here for the next hour and a half. Not that you were planning on leaving, but it felt nice to actually have a choice until he showed up. Oh, well, you think to yourself, pulling up your hood and determining that you will only take mental notes for this time. “Morning, Y/N,” you hear a low voice say from beside you, making you turn to look in their direction. “Morning, Taehyung,” you say back at your best friend as you let out a yawn. His eyes are bright and full of energy, which makes you wonder if he is on some drug or something, since he manages to always be so energetic in the morning even when he never drinks coffee. He told you once that he does not like the taste of it and it made you laugh. As if you drink it for the taste, you had thought. “Still haven’t found your mystery man?” he asks, pulling at the hoodie he has seen you in more than enough days in a row. You shake your head. “I know his name, but I have no idea where to find him,” you explain, taking a quick glance around to find that he is not in this class either. Taehyung furrows his brows as he ponders. “He is into music, right? He might be in that one music class,” he then suggests, making your mind toss and turn. “Yeah, maybe,” you say. Tae could be right. Maybe you would be able to find him there, but it seems as a bit of a reach. “You could try,” he adds before leaning back again as the teacher is starting the lesson. You nod at that, deciding that you will check it out later.

--------------------------

After what has felt as the longest day ever, you finally make your way to your dorm and step inside, being embraced by its hominess. This is the stuff, you think to yourself as you plop down on your bed, letting the softness of the mattress sink you into itself. A deep sigh of relief and relaxation escapes you. You have spent a lot of your day, running around to find Namjoon to no avail. He was nowhere, not even in the music room. It disappoints you, since you had really hoped to have your problems solved today. You have even been to the laundromat again, praying to find him there waiting for you, but of course he was not. He only does his laundry on Mondays. The thought makes you sigh with annoyance, realizing you might have to wait another five days before getting your clothes back. You look down at yourself, noticing that you have a stain on your shirt. You gotta be kidding me? you think to yourself, sitting up and rubbing at the stain that will not be coming off anytime soon. You do not even know what it is from, but you know that it will have to be washed before you can use it again. This is not what you needed right now. “Argh!” you say out loud as you pull off the hoodie, not wanting to wear it any longer. You throw it to the floor and huff, sitting on your bed with your arms crossed and a pout on your lips. However, it does not take long before you realize that your room is way to cold for you to sit there in just a bra. You look over at the white plastic basket by your desk, studying the neatly folded pieces of clean clothes that are practically just lying there and watching you. Before you know it, you are standing above it and going through the pieces, finding a t-shirt and pulling it over your head. It feels a little odd to be wearing a stranger’s t-shirt, but is he really a stranger after all? You know his name and he borrowed your detergent. He even let you hear his music. That would qualify us as friends, right? you defend to yourself, trying to make it less uncomfortable to be wearing his shirt. Thinking about it, it actually feels rather nice. It is soft and warm and most importantly - clean. It also smells like him, and you do not know what to do with that information. You try not to think about it too deeply, knowing it will make you feel like a creep if you do. Suddenly, there is a knock on the door, and you gather it must be your best friend, since he has made it a habit to show up unannounced. Tae always comes over to eat your snacks and hog your bed until he falls asleep and you have to pull out your spare mattress for yourself. You do not mind though, since he is always good company to have around, hence why he is your best friend. You open up the door, but you are not met with a set of familiar energetic eyes. You are met with the sight of a white laundry basket and a tall dimpled college boy, whose expression softens with relief when he sees your face. “Finally!” Namjoon says, slouching his back and smiling widely. “I have been looking all over for you,” he adds with a chuckle. You smile relieved yourself, feeling ecstatic to see him again. Even your heart starts beating faster at the mere sight of him and his matte grey locks. “Come in,” you say, stepping back and leading him inside. He places down the basket on the floor and makes his way to your bed. “Can I?” he asks, gesturing to the mattress, and you nod, causing him to take a seat. “First of all, I am so sorry I took your basket. I swear, it was an accident!” Namjoon immediately starts, hoping with all of his being that you believe him. “As soon as I noticed I ran back to the laundromat, but you were not there anymore, so I didn’t know what to do,” he explains. You sit down beside him, grinning at his nervous and apologetic state. “It’s okay,” you say to calm him down a bit. “No, it’s really not. I should have checked which basket I took. It was so stupid,” he then says, rubbing his face in his hands. “I really hope you don’t hate me,” he adds, peeking out between his fingers, trying to shield his embarrassed features. “Namjoon, it’s fine. I’m just glad that you found me,” you say, pulling at his hands. You do not know why the skinship feels so natural, but neither of you seem bothered by it. It only ignites a spark. “It wasn’t easy, though. I must have knocked on every single door,” he says, grinning as he closes his eyes shut, thinking about it. It makes you laugh. “Well, you get an A for effort,” you say, making him laugh as well. He then sighs, standing up again as he starts to wonder if he might be imposing on you. He takes the basket and places it on your bed next to you as you look up at him. “So, here’s your clothes back, and once again, I’m sorry,” he says sincerely. “Thank you,” you say back with a smile, causing him to smile too. It shows off his adorable dimples, and you feel your heart flutter. “I should go, now,” he states, yet you feel it to be slightly forced, wondering if he might actually want to stay. “Sure,” you say politely, deciding to save the offer for another time if it comes around. You make your way towards the door once again, and he opens it up to step outside. “Don’t forget your own,” you say and grab his basket, handing it to him. “Right,” he chuckles, receiving it from your grip. His gaze falters slightly and lands on a familiar print before him, causing him to grin. “Are you wearing my shirt?” he asks, and you realize that you had just put on one of his t-shirts before he came. You look down at yourself and soon feel your cheeks blush at the realization. “Oh, yeah. I didn’t have any clean shirts left, so…” you start, trying to explain your way out of your embarrassment, but he interrupts you. “It’s okay, Y/N,” he says, smiling at you genuinely. You pull your hair behind your ears, feeling a bit awkward before him without knowing that he finds it extremely cute. Now, it is his heart that flutters. “Oh, you probably want it back,” you say, raising your brows, but he declines. “No, keep it. It looks better on you, anyways,” he says confidently, making your cheeks flush a deeper shade of pink. You only manage to nod back, not trusting your voice to carry your words. “I’ll see you Monday, Y/N,” Namjoon says, and you smile at the thought. “See you Monday,” you say back. He sighs as he breathes in the last gaze at you before he decides to step back. You close the door behind him, and lean against the door, already looking forward to seeing him again.

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myperfectlittlecupcake · 6 years ago

Text

Home (k.n.)

~A/N~

Namjoon x reader

Genres: Angst, a tiny sprinkle of fluff?, rebound, therapy, rape au

Trigger warning: this contains scenes allusive to abuse, sexual harassment, violent behaviour (all very mild but beware)

Synopsis: So basically y/n comes home after being ever so destroyed by the so-called “sexual harassment”, or “abuse”. Namjoon, her longtime best friend and roommate, quickly catches on and later becomes her only rock.

(this is kind of roughly edited cause I just needed to get it out)

I closed the front door to my apartment, sighing of relief as to finally being inside my apartment. I took off my shoes and headed straight to my room, dropping off my bag and clashing onto my bed. I felt this weird sense of sadness, even though I couldn’t really put my finger on why, as exhaustion heavied my eyelids and deepened my breaths.

-Y/N? you’re back?-namjoon lightly knocked on the door of my room, finding me laying face down on my bed.-Y/N?

-Yeah, sorry...hi.-I sighed, turning onto my back.-I just had a rough day, my back hurts, my head hurts, everything is just ugh, I’m sorry.

-Nah, it’s fine...-he sighed, crossing his arms and leaning up against the door frame.-Mine was just as boring...Wanna order takeout?

-Not hungry, sorry.

-Hmkay, I’ll make you a sandwich and put it on the microwave.-he nodded, closing my door, making me sigh.

Always so considering.

Sigh.

The truth was me and namjoon had known each other since the 1 st day of high school. We had stuck together since day 1, and we had gone through thick and thin together over these past 5 years. We had grown together, we had been heartbroken together, we had had our 1st party together, we had been thrown out together, we had slept on subways together, we had failed classes together, we had had A’s together, we had cried together, we had laughed together. It honestly felt like a lifetime, me and him.

Why did I feel like I had let him down now?

Even though my mind refused to keep quiet, I soon fell into a deep slumber, my thoughts blank for long quiet hours until the next morning wordlessly rolled in.

I turned to my side, lazily rubbing my eyes when his scent finally hit my senses.

I turned again, furrowing my eyebrows, my mind not clicking yet again as I tried to distinguish what I was feeling.

This smells like...sweat.

I could smell his sweat all over me, on my arms, on my hair, on my clothes, weirdly mixed with my own scent, shivers now going down my spine. I sat up, sighing, flashbacks of yesterday now echoing through my mind.

Fuck.

I smelled myself again, as insane as it looked, trying to reassure myself that he wasn’t really here, that his imprint hadn’t really stayed, when I noticed the strange mix of deodorant and perfume and sweat I had tried to layer last night- and it all became unbearable.

It all became real again.

Fuck.

I actually hate myself.

I layed back on my bed again, staring up at the ceiling as tears rolled down my cheeks, soft wet tingles as they make their path down my neck, my thoughts managing to scream louder than my sniffles.

Never in my life had I felt this rage at my own self, wanting to shake my own shoulders and yell, slap my round expressionless face until red marks appear on the side of my cheeks.

How could I have been so stupid?

How could I let him touch me?

I layed there for what felt like another life, as if I would wake up again and namjoon would be a different kind of older, newspaper would be written on holographic walls and dogs would be programmed to chase their owners instead of taught. Or maybe everyone would be dead and the world would just move on as it always has, looking exactly the same.

With a guilty sink to my stomach, I finally got up, sneaking into the bathroom to shower, deciding to finally put an end to that god awful terrifying smell.

I stripped down and immediately put all my clothes away, not even wanting to think about them, when I got a glimpse of myself at the mirror, naive and frail, hooded eyes and translucent thin skin.

Fragile, was the only word that came up to my head as I stared into my own eyes, sparkless and red from crying, dark circles beneath them, proof of such delicate soul.

I should take better care of myself. I sighed as I looked at my reflexion, wondering if it was all a part of my imagination, or if stress had really eaten away a part of me.

As I washed my body I desperately tried making the lingering feeling of his fingers trailing down my skin disappear. I mixed in body washes upon body oils, I made up new combinations of shampoos with shower gels, I tried covering every inch of m skin with body scrubs, trying to clean and clean and clean, but nothing would make the burning inside my chest cease. As tears started to cloud my eyes, I tried new mixes upon new mixes, now wondering if my skin would take it any further. But then again, his scent still managed to creep up on me, sighs of defeat leaving my mouth.

Why won’t you fucking leave?!

What the hell do I have to fucking do ?!, I cried out, scrubbing for what felt the 100th time, my arms and legs, places I knew still smelled like him.

I felt so ridiculous.

I couldn’t even touch myself without having flashbacks of his smirk, nor without sickly chills running down my spine and my stomach twisting and turning. I just wanted to hide - somewhere, anywhere. But how could I, if the thing I wanted to run away from the most was my own body?

Ugh, how stupid.

How naive.

Besides, it’s not like I’m in a relationship. I should’ve enjoyed the attention I got. I just sat there and let everything happen, it’s not like I screamed or hit him in the balls- it all just eventually came crashing down on me once I left.

I’m so fucking stupid.

I went back to my room, grabbing my phone, deciding upon myself that I would try to distract myself. I was exhausted of everything and, to be honest, I just wanted to feel safe- to feel at home. And so, I grabbed a blanket and pulled out one of my favorite tv shows, ignoring the screaming thoughts inside my head, my heart at a rushing pace as I noticed how suddenly lonely I still felt, as if everything was still wrong, as if everything had never quite been right from the start.

-Y’N, you put these shorts to wash yesterday, do you want me to wash them again already?-namjoon knocked again, my heart sinking down to my feet.

He must’ve gone to the bathroom. Fuck..

-Huh, yeah... Do you mind?- he stared at me between his furrowed eyebrows once again.-Also, can you put my bag to wash as well? I’ll pay you back, don’t worry.

-Hmhm-he nodded, still staring at me, his piercing eyes running chills down my spine.- Are you okay?

Hmph. What an easy question.

No.

-Yeah yeah yeah, I just feel tired.- I smiled, trying to reassure him.

-Do you mind if I come in?

-Of course not, joon.- I smilled again, sitting up.

He quietly came in and sat down beside me, staring down at his own hands, seeming to be gathering his thoughts. I frowned up at him, my heart still managing to flutter a bit, even though a big pain soon came after it.

I hugged my knees into my chest, as I tried to focus on something else, my breathing becoming unsteady.

Fuck.

I hated this.

-You’re not sick, are you?- he looked at me again, his eyes shining with genuine concern.

-No, joon, I promise you.- our eyes stared at each other for a few seconds, my mind racing to the point where I could feel my heart loudly beat inside my chest.

-You’ve been acting really weird...y/n, you know you can trust me, right?-he sighed.

-What do you mean?

-I just want to help you.-he sighed, now seeming lost in his own thoughts again, making me frown once more. He reached up to touch one of my legs but I quickly shrugged it off, his eyes going wide.-Are you scared of me?

-No, joon, I promise-

-I’m sorry. I’ll leave.-he looked down and stood up, slowly going for the door as my heart raced and tears quickly formed in my eyes.

What the actual hell?!

-Joon?!-I screamed, getting up.

-No no no, it’s okay...-he scratched the back of his neck.-I’ll go to my room and leave yo-

-What the actual fuck, joon?!- I sobbed, covering my face with my hands, namjoon completely dumbfounded.- You motherfucker, not everything is about you!

I grabbed a pillow and threw it at him, dropping down and hugging my knees up to my chest, now fully breaking down and sobbing the hardest I had in years.

-What the hell do you mean?- he sighed, scared to even move a finger from where he was standing.

-It’s always about you, isn’t it?! You always think -oh I’ll just leave her to it because it’s always my damn fault all the damn time. If you want to leave then just fucking do it already! I don’t fucking care!- I screamed at the top of my lungs as I broke down, my unsteady breaths making me gasp for air in between sentences.

-Y/n, you’re not making any sense...-he sighed, trying to step closer, but me shrugging once again, hugging my knees even closer to my chest.

-I can’t get him out of my head, joon. His fucking smell, his fucking touch... I hate myself so fucking much... It’s my own fault...It’s all my fault...I fucking hate it all...

He sighed once again, pulling his hair back with his hand in frustration, clearly still trying to grasp what was going on-

-...Can I step closer? I promise I won’t hurt you... C’mon, y/n, it’s me your joonie.-he sighed once again, making me smile at the nickname I had given him years ago. I shakily nodded, letting him sit beside me, my heart still racing.

He quiet sat down next to me, looking down at his hands, not once looking up at me, which I took as a sign that he was serious.

-I’m sorry for being stupid.-he fidgeted his fingers beside me, making me smile once again.-...I want you to tell me everything. I didn’t understand half of that, you need to start from the start.

-Y’know it’s weird.-I sniffled, running my fingers playfully along my knees.-I just fucking hate myself so much for letting something happen and I-

My voice cracked once more, tears violently streaming down my face as we both sat in silence on the floor for a little while, both of our minds wandering about everything and anything, him waiting until my breaths had finally seemed to calm to ask any further.

He looked up at me and raised his arm, something he used to do since we were kids, and I smiled, hesitantly scooting closer and leaning up against his chest as he wrapped his arm around me, me ignoring the unsettling feeling inside my stomach.

If I couldn’t feel anything else, I could at least have this.

-I’m sorry.-I whispered, tears seeming to still run down my cheeks, staining his t-shirt bellow me.

-It’s okay.-he whispered back, kissing the top of my head.-It’s all okay now.

Somehow I was finally home.

#bts imagine #bts imagines #bts drabble #bts #namjoon #namjoon x reader #kim namjoon #rap monster #rap mon #rm #rm imagines #namjoon imagine #bts scenarios

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kpopimaginings · 4 years ago

Note

Hellooo, first of all congrats for the 300 followers! So about the game, my I resquest a angst Namjoon with the prompt number 4.“You never listen to me” with the Reader saying this to him? Thanks a lot, have a nice week <3

Hi my lovely 😁 thank you! Your support means a lot. I hope you enjoy this rather angsty drabble.

---------------------

When you agreed to a relationship with Namjoon, you knew that it wasn't going to be easy. Dating any idol would be difficult, but especially when he was the leader of one of the most successful kpop groups and essentially had to look after his 6 grown up children.

By now though, you were starting to get sick of the many missed and cancelled dates.

"I'm not doing this on purpose," Namjoon told you, when you voiced your frustrations.

He was slumped on the sofa after a busy day, while you stood on the other side of the coffee table in the centre of the room with your arms crossed.

"I didn't say you were," you pointed out. "I just wanted to let you know I miss you."

"I'm here now, aren't I?" he retorted.

"Yes, which is why I can finally tell you what's going on."

"I'm sorry if it bothers you, but my job is important to me. I can't just take time off because you want to go to dinner."

"Again, Namjoon, that is not what I'm saying. But if you say you haven't got work commitments and we make plans, it would be nice if you stick to them," you said, just getting angrier as he tried to dodge responsibility.

"Being a leader isn't easy, I have meetings and things even when BTS don't have schedules."

"Yes, but shouldn't they still be booked in advance? You should have some sort of warning so you can plan around it."

"Why are you attacking me for this? Its not my fault!" Namjoon snapped.

"For God's sake, you never listen to me! Even when you’re actually here!”

"I am listening, you are just being difficult. Are you that needy that you can't cope with me working?"

That stopped you in your tracks. Of course you didn't have a problem with Namjoon working. You were super proud of him and all the boys for what they were achieving. It was just exhausting getting your hopes up, only to be let down last minute so many times.

"If you know working keeps you that busy, why did you ask me out?" you asked him, your voice seeming so small compared to the volume you had both been using until now.

"Because I loved you."

The air in the room stilled. Namjoon’s words echoed in the heavy silence as you stared at each other.

"Loved?"

NAVIGATION | BTS MASTERLIST

#bts #namjoon #rm #rap mon #rap monster #namjoon imagine #namjoon imagines #namjoon drabble #namjoon angst #rm imagine #rm imagines #rm drabble #rm angst #bts imagines #bts scenarios #bts army #bts angst

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yeaimfishboi · 7 years ago

Text

BTS Reaction to You Acting Shy Around Them.

@iamjungkooked requested: Bts reaction to you being very shy around them. If you dont want to do BTS then monsta x please?

A/N: Of course my love. I’d be happy too!! also IM SO SORY THIS TOOK SO DAMN LONG I HATE WRITERS BLOCK OMG.

Seokjin:

He finds it super adorable. He just fangirls every time he touches (EVERYTIME WE TOUCH I GET THIS FEELING) and you end up blushing. He just loves it.

Yoongi:

Slightly irritated. “Why do I make you so uncomfortable?” He thought it was weird you couldn’t be truly yourself around him.

Hoseok:

Cheeky cheeky cheeky. He would do everything in his power to make you blush. Whether it be him wrapping his arms around your waist whilst you are cooking, or him pecking you on the cheek while you are out in public.

Namjoon:

He really started overthinking the entire situation. Was he pushing you too hard? Was he too clingy? Or was he just too extra? It got to the point where you literally had to kiss him in order to get him to shut up.

Jimin:

Slightly confused by the whole situation. He was wondering why suddenly you were so shy. Then he realized two things: you guys were out in public, and the boys were there. ‘Nuff said.

Taehyung:

Probably the most irritated out of the boys in this situation. He tried everything in his power to make you comfortable but somehow he couldn’t get you to be comfortable enough with him.

Jungkook:

He knew it was just your personality, not him. He still tried getting you to open up, but he knows that sometimes you just can’t. Which will never stop him from loving you.

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kpopyourcherryy · 7 years ago

Text

Mr. Kim Namjoon - (M)

Genre; S m u t

Length; 1,500+ words

Kink(s); exhibitionism, slight Daddy kink

Au; Ceo!Au

There was so much paperwork sprawled out on your desk now, you tried to work.. you really did, but you couldn't concentrate, not with him practically piercing your soul with his deadly stare. Why did you have to be alone with him? Why did he choose you out of all your coworkers?

"Y/n.." Mr. Kim, your boss, smoothly called over to you. Motioning you over with his long fingers the instant you gave him your attention. "Come over here for a moment.."

Immediately, the tone his already deep voice had you melting- there was just something about him that made you weak in the knees. "Ahh.. Yes- Yes, Sir.." You timidly stuttered in reply, causing him to chuckle slightly as you rose from your seat.

As you made the short journey over to his side, your eyes met his- he flashed you this wicked grin with a dark mischievous glint in his eyes. Tapping his desk with his fingertips, he let out a soft sigh.

"So, Miss y/n.." He purred, your name rolling off his tongue oh-so-smoothly. "Do you know why I chose to work so closely with you?” His slightly abrupt question left you a bit anxious.

Were you supposed to know why? "Uh," You muttered, shaking you head as he suddenly stood from his chair- walking passed you and over to the large glass window that overlooked the rest of the office. "No, Sir, I do not.." You added, watching as he closed the blinds before locking the frosted glass door.

Gracefully, he turned around on his heels allowing his gaze to fall on you curvaceous form- silently admiring the way your black button up blouse and matching skirt flattered your figure.

"Well for one.." He began, giving you a soft smile while licking his lips as he stalked back over to where you were. "I personally think you're the most qualified for the job, and secondly,"

His words trailed off the second he stood not even a foot in front of you. "You're.." He started again, inhaling deeply as he breathed in your sweetly intoxicating scent. "You're such an obedient little girl. You always do what I ask of you, no matter how difficult the task is when I ask you to."

Slowly, he moved around you- making his way back to his faux leather seat. "Plus, I see the way you get around me," His statement automatically had you looking like a deer in headlights as your cheeks turned a bright red. Leaning forward in his seat, he combed his slender fingers through his hair, "I think we'll have lots of fun together, wouldn't you agree, y/n?"

Though you didn't know what to say at all, his question led you to just simply nod in response. Smirking, Namjoon slowly snaked his arm around your waist- pulling you over to him and onto his lap.

"I'm glad you agree.." He chuckled, his eyes looming over you. Taking his lower lip between his teeth, he gave it a nice harsh tug while a soft growl simultaneously escaped him. "God.. The things I want to do to you.."

You could feel your heart rapidly beat in your chest as your eyes fixated on him. The way his messy blonde hair just framed his face, the way his jet black clothes fit his lean body... just everything about him had begun to drive your body insane.

Your thighs automatically pressed together as pure sin ran through your mind, now. "Wh- What do you want to do to me?" You mousily stuttered, anticipating his lewd response.

Namjoon couldn't help just grinning at the eagerness you exhibited despite your shy appearance. He knew you want him just as badly as he wanted you, and though you were a good girl- he wanted you to work for it. He wanted to see tears streak your face as you begged for his touch.

"Mhm.." He softly hummed, lightly caressing your curve while he pretended to be lost in thought. "Should I tell you, princess? Or.." As his voice trailed off, his playful aura seemed to slowly diminish as the wheels in his mind began to turn. "..Or do you think I should make you beg for it first?"

"B- Beg?" You shyly repeated, asking for an explanation with one simple word, but that's not how he took it.

His hand traveled up your back, making its way up to the nape of your neck before roughly grabbing a fistful of your hair- giving it one solid tug; exposing your throat in the process.

The soft little yelp that instinctively escaped you as his clothed member already painfully hard. Though you were clearly unaware of his attraction to you before this lewd encounter, he had been fantasizing about you for months beforehand- just dreaming of what it'd be like to have you in any way he'd like.

His grip on your waist seemed to tighten as he neared your bare skin, "What a good choice.." He purred, his tongue licking a broad strip from your throat your jaw. "Such a smart little girl, aren't you y/n?.."

Your body trembled at the slick feeling of his tongue sweeping against your flesh, “Ahh..~” You gasped, tensing slightly as you felt his free hand creep up your thigh; the pads of his fingers ever-so-slightly rubbing your skin as he pushed your skirt up.

“I want..” Your boss airily groaned, feeling his member become hard just from hearing your sweet sound. “I need to hear you beg for me, y/n..” He purred while his plump lips ghosted over your now alert flesh, “Tell me how much you want me. I want to hear all the dirty little things you dream of me doing to you.”

“I- I..” You stuttered, biting down on your lower lip as he drew hearts along your inner thighs before finding his way to your dampening slit. “I want you so badly, Sir..” You whimpered, “I want to feel you deep inside me while your hands are wrapped around my throat..”

A faint grunt flowed from him as he teased your clothed slit; adding more and more pressure on your heat the louder your needy whimpers became. “Fuck..” You mewled, completely melting into his arms as his hold on your hair loosened- slipping back down to your waist to keep you still as he pushed your panties to the side. “Please- Please make me feel good, I..”

Before another word could slip from you, his lips crashed onto yours- enveloping the two of you a passionate yet needy kiss. The office began to fill with the erotic mix of yours and his muffled sounds as he lifted you- making you straddle him now.

His large hands began to explore your body, caressing your clothed curves until he began tugging at your top, next thing you knew he lifted your blouse up and off you in less than a second- revealing the pretty lace bra that perfectly hugged your supple breasts. “Fuck..” He groaned as he reluctantly pulled away from your lips. “How are you so fucking sexy?”

Your cheeks automatically seemed to turn a bright shade of red as you listened to him gush over you. “I want you to be loud for me, babygirl..” He began while ghosting his mouth over your chest; taking small harsh nips at the tops of your breasts.

“But- But..” You whimpered, biting down on your lower lip as his hand moved up your tummy. groping you for a minute before hooking his digits around the cups of your bra- yanking them downwards. Though your mind stammered off for a moment, his lewd motions putting you in a trance, you slowly remember where exactly the two of you were. Peeling your eyes off him, you glanced towards the door, watching as the silhouettes of your coworkers cluelessly went on with their jobs.

“What if..” You shyly murmured. but again, that mouth of his cut you off the instant his lips and tongue wrapped around your pert nipples. The room filled to the very brim with your needy sounds as he went to work on your chest; lightly sucking and licking at one of your sensitive pearls while rolling the other between his fingers.

Namjoon grunted against your chest, relishing the erotic noises that flowed from you the more he toyed with your body. He could feel his cock pulse inside his slacks the harder he grew, “Fuck..” He breathlessly groaned, his hot breath sending chills down your spine. Grabbing your hand, he moved it over to his manhood; making you grab it, feeling every inch of his solid cock. He needed you feel just exactly how badly he wanted you- to feel exactly what you did to him.

“Look at what you did to me, princess..” He lustfully purred, trailing his hand back to your chest as you continued to palm him. “Do you see what you do to Daddy?”

If nothing else during this little encounter with him made you weak, hearing him refer to himself as Daddy surely did. The second the dominant pet-name rang through your ears, you couldn’t fight back the loud desperate moan that escaped you. Of course, he noticed this. “Oh, you like that, babygirl?” He jeered, harshly nipping at your bud, “Well...” He continued, “Daddy needs to use you, kitten...”

“You got Daddy all worked up just listening to your pretty moans, and now you need to fix what you’ve done..”

... To Be Continued, Maybe~ (if you beg💋)

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shesdreamingofamonster · 7 years ago

Text

Small Confessions

“Isn’t it funny?” He looked over at you, a dorky smirk on his face. “Isn’t what funny?” Namjoon had been a little sleep deprived lately, and you were wondering what he would be talking about. “How you just happened to bump into me at that cafe one day. How you had dropped your keys at that exact moment when I was making my way into the door. If you hadn’t dropped your keys, then you could have been gone just a moment before I was there. Then we might have never met. I never would have picked them up and started talking to you.” A smile formed on your lips as you watched him in fascination. His hand made it’s way to the bump where your little girl has been residing for the past 8 months. “Then we wouldn’t have this. I wouldn’t have you, we wouldn’t have her.” Your hormones were already out of check, and his sudden sappiness made tears form in your eyes. “I am happy that you are so clumsy.” The tears made their way down your face as he gave you a kiss. He wiped them away with a small laugh, as you placed your hand on top of his own. “I am glad too.”

Masterlist

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sunshinejoon · 7 years ago

Text

Sail

pairing: Namjoon x Reader

genre: just a whole lot of fluff

summary: his compass was never wrong, after all.

a/n: I’ve been gone for so long, i apologize. Between school and sports i’ve been juggling a lot. This is me just getting back into the swing of writing again. Enjoy xx

The first time he notices you, he doesn’t think much of it.

Merely because he’s only granted the view of your back, hair spiraling down in brilliant curls and scarlet dress hugging your figure spectacularly. You are speaking with a group of other women, hands gesturing as you speak, and he can’t help but to point out how elegant your movements are. As he revels in the only part of you visible to his eye, he scans you down, eyes stopping at the discovery of an ink etching of a sailboat on your right ankle. He finds himself smiling slightly, but despite his heart’s pleas, he makes no move towards you. Instead, he takes a sip of his champagne and returns to the conversation taking place next to him, Yoongi’s voice coming back into focus.

“You agree, right Namjoon?”

Several minutes later, he takes one last look over at you, the mystery woman of his evening, but the red of your dress has leaked from the room. Sure, plenty of other beautiful women have on beautiful red dresses, and many more have beautiful black heels adorning their feet, but they’re all the wrong hues; all the wrong shades. He’s disappointed, though he cannot pinpoint why. For the meantime, he shakes the thought from his head, because it’s not a big deal. You’re just a pretty face; no, a pretty back. You’re nothing special. Just a speck of sand on a shore he’s convinced he’ll explore.

Yet, when he lays down that night, slightly buzzed (though he doesn’t know whether it’s from the alcohol or the social stimulation), he has a dream. It’s his first one in months, though he had never really noticed before. It’s quite vivid, too. He can smell the salt from the ocean and the sounds of graceful waves dance into his ears, and right where the blue sky meets the blue of the sea, a small sailboat bobs in the water, a small breeze running through the scarlet colored sail.

The second time was different, however. It was something he would never forget.

He was backstage, the adrenaline causing an ache in his stomach as his stylist adds he finishing touches to his hair. The crowd can be heard through the walls, chants endlessly emitting from the hundreds of fans waiting for a performance. It steadies him for a moment, knowing that he has no need to be nervous in front of his family; his ARMY. He closes his eyes and tries to relax, to push down the twisting of his gut, but a large burst of laughter causes him to whip his eyes to the source, and he’s infatuated by the sight.

And there you were, though he did not yet know it was you.

You were doing Jimin’s makeup, laughing at something he had said, eyes scrunched up and smile wide. He stared in awe, taking in the beauty of your laugh and how your hair swung from your back onto your shoulders. When you laugh settled down, the sparkle in your eyes was still dazzling, and he found himself unable to look away. Even when you narrowed them in concentration, sticking the handle of the eyeshadow brush in between your teeth to free your hands. As you cradle Jimin’s jaw with your hand to position him correctly, Namjoon found himself oddly jealous. Although he felt slightly invasive of your privacy, he continued to watch you work until you walked around to the back of Jimin’s chair, spinning him around and allowing him to see your masterpiece. That’s when it caught Namjoon’s gaze, the picture of a sailboat peeking out from the hem of your denim jeans.

Heart in his throat, he watched you gorgeously flash one last smile at Jimin through the mirror before gathering your makeup items and retreating from the room. His smile fades, and he notices that the ache in his stomach has returned, even though he wasn’t aware it had even left in the first place.

So, without much thought, he hustles towards the door, jogging down the hallway aimlessly before he catches sight of your back, a sight he’s all too familiar with. You’re speaking to another member of the concert staff. He slows down and attempts to fix himself up before he approaches you. His stomach churns now, combined with multiple elements that he refuses to let stop him. The individual speaking to you catches his eye, recognition sparking in her eyes as she bows respectfully. He bows back, and when he comes back up, he’s finally eye to eye with you. He watches them twinkle, the light reflecting off of them in such an ethereal way he’s almost convinced you’re an angel. You two exchange the honorable gesture, and the staff member says her goodbyes to you and Namjoon as she rushes off, blaming a hectic schedule.

Not even a second after she leaves, he’s stumbling over his “hello” and you’re giggling out yours. You smile at him like he’s a star. He feels celestial, though he’s quite aware his brightness is dim compared to yours.

That’s the day he finally learns your name, and the last day he spends without it.

The trashcan in his studio is filled to the brim by time a month of knowing you rolls around. Each time he finds himself writing a song with you in mind, he disposes of his, crumpling the lyrics as tightly as possible. It wasn’t that you were not worthy of a song, oh no. He wanted to write about you until his knuckles bled, until he ran out of phrases to define you. The problem was that he knew he’d never stop. He didn’t want the world to hear about you, and if he allowed himself to release hidden syllables that whispered your name; allowed himself to weave you into the stories he wrote, it would swallow you up. Despite his best efforts, however, there was one he couldn’t bring to toss away. There was too much of you in it. He uncrumples the paper and smooths it out before tucking it into a folder on his desk titled Her.

He's fully immersed in your conversations over the phone, whether they be 5 minutes or 5 hours. He admires the way you speak with such passion, such confidence about things you love. Each text has him more impatient than the last, constantly awaiting your responses.

After admitting you were attracted, he roped you into a date, which turned into two, which turned into ten. You are everything he hoped you would be and more. After a particular day following you around the city, watching your eyes light up as you take in the sights like you’ve never seen them before, he decides he can’t wait any longer. So, he takes you to a café and asks you to be his girlfriend as the steam from the coffee fogs up his glasses. A yes fills the space between you as he sheds his glasses to wipe off the vapor, and he smiles at you. You laugh and he does too, but it’s so much more than that.

There’s no escaping you, he’s aware of it now. It’s a sink or swim—but Namjoon’s never been prouder of his inability to stay afloat.

He first time he tells you he loves you, it 1:17 am. He remembers it like the lyrics to his favorite song.

He remembers because he wakes from a nightmare, his arm protectively cradled around you. As soon as you feel his touch and hear his rushed breathing, you slowly sit up, placing your palms on his flushed cheeks. He cannot see much in the darkness, the pale moonlight dimly illuminating the bedroom. He can’t see your features, but your hushed voice tethers him to reality. His hands cling onto your wrists as he leans into your touch.

“I’m here. shhh, it’s okay, it’s okay. You’re okay.”

You don’t release him until his breath is as steady as the soft breeze flowing through the open window. A soft caress from your thumb is what lingers on his cheek as he lays back down, placing his head against your chest, is body shifted further down the bed. You wrap your arms around him, fingers intertwining with his hair that has been dyed too many times, but you never seem to mind.

He feels so comforted, but he urges you to sleep. He’s angry at himself for waking you, or rather startling you. You ignore him though, placing a chaste kiss to his temple.

“I’m not going to sleep until you do.”

He doesn’t understand it, the fluttering in his chest. You hadn’t said anything of importance. It was a simple phrase made up of 27 letters. Yet, he could feel it. It crawled from his chest up to his throat, and lingered on his tongue until he uttered the 8 letters back. That changed everything. When he was greeted with silence, fear finds its way into his heart. Did you not feel the same? Was he delusional?

As if you could read his mind, you giggled sweetly but softly, and he wished he could see your face in the moment. He curses the night for being the only one to see you when he spilled his confession. But he’s more than satisfied when you whisper a lovely I love you more cascades through your lips.

He drifts off after that, his heart swollen with affection, and his dreams filled with the serene imagine of a little sailboat gliding across the ocean blue, and a red sail allowing the wind to set its course.

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