Summary: There are a seven names in your Little Black Book, and you have lost all of them… or have you?
Pairing: can’t really reveal who the pairing here bc spoilers! So I’ll just say member(s?) x female oc
Rating: Explicit 🔞
Genre: e2l, S2L, established relationship, fuck buddies
Warning: mention of masturbation, mention of sex toy, a bit of angst, 69, oral (m&f receiving), fingering, ass eating, unprotected sex, mmf threesome, multiple orgasm, multiple partners
A/N: This marks the end of the series, as well as the beginning of my hiatus. Real life hasn't been kind time wise, and writing- once a way to escape- has become more of a burden and it's been very hard to put my thoughts into words for the past few months. I will leave this account open, albeit inactive, and hopefully one day I can come back and share my horny smutty ideas with you again. Love you all. Be kind to everone. Borahae.
Series Masterlist: Little Black Book
You tossed your vibrator away in frustration.
This was maddening. You used to have seven- SEVEN!- men at your disposal, and now... you had been reduced to a battery operated toy.
And it sucked.
It felt nothing like the real thing. It carried none of the musky scents of your partners. It simply whirred and made mechanical noises that were so far from the desperate groans and lusty moans that used to fill your ears. It produced no sweats, it carried no weight that could pin you down, it was just.... pathetic.
Pathetic. This was what you were.
Seven men, and none was within your reach.
After the breakup, a chasm broke out, something Jungkook liked to compare to the Avengers Civil War, with Jungkook and Yoongi taking Namjoon's side. You did not blame them for it, you understood why they were there. Jungkook obviously were dating Namjoon's little sister, and although that did not last long, it was clear where his loyalty was. Yoongi was more guilt-ridden- having your ex-boyfriend as his song writing partner would make things very awkward if you and him went back to your old schedule. You got it, you really did, and in a way you felt grateful that Namjoon had such good friends by his side, even at your expense.
Because you figured, you had Seokjin and Hoseok, right? The two who had been with you from the beginning and who had been with you through your ups and downs. The two who were the least likely to ask for any kind of commitment from you, and the most likely to give you the kind of fun you wanted without any questions asked.
Only... you seemed to have ruined that too.
It was interesting that soon after Namjoon and you called it quit, the lust came back with a vengeance. The post-break up sex you had made up for the weeks and weeks you both had gone without. It was angry, it was rough, it was as if you were reminding each other what you would miss, a lustful taunt to be the first to grovel and beg- for what, none of you knew exactly, other than you both needed to fuck each other's brains out. One last time. Over and over.
Post sex however, you went into a spiral. Showing up at Hoseok or Seokjin's apartment, body sore and heart aching, many a night you spent on their sofa, either crying or staring into space, while Seokin gamed or Hoseok monitored his dance videos. You always woke up the next morning in their spare bedrooms with your eyes swollen, they patiently fed you breakfast, waiting until your grief stage moved to anger stage. Only you were never able to move on, being stuck with your ex-boyfriend in an unhealthy loop. Seokjin finally had had enough, and so it was one afternoon in the office, Seokjin sat you down, glared at you until you blocked Namjoon's number, then called Yoongi to check if your ex had done the same with yours. When your boss got the confirmation, he patted your head and invited you to dinner at his place.
"To make sure you're okay, and that you don't unblock him."
And somehow Hoseok got in on it too, taking turns with Seokjin to watch you like a hawk until you finally moved on. You were grateful to them, but regretful too because things changed then. You still found them attractive, very painfully so, but... that was it. Nothing more. Them caring for you had erased any desire once harboured for each other. How and why this happened... that was something you were not willing to psychoanalyse.
And thus, here you were in your predicament. Naked in bed, with your toy discarded and hopefully, soon forgotten.
You unplugged your phone from the charger and scrolled through your address book. From seven, reduced to five. The last two candidates... well, that was harder to deal with than then five you had just crossed off. Taehyung, you would guess, would never talk to you until you sorted your shit with Jimin. Jimin, you would guess, would slam the door in your face if you even dared to show up at his place. And that also if you could ever swallow your pride and unblock his number.
You bit your lip.
The two blocked numbers in your phone were the two who would most welcome you, regardless where you stood with them now. You just knew it, you had a gut feeling, either Namjoon or Jimin would not turn you down. But, to make the proposition, you had to first unblock them. Just one of them. Which one, though?
Going back to Namjoon scared you- you did not want to be reduced to that crying mess again, and you were worried of Seokjin and Hoseok's reactions. Would they be angry? Upset? Would they leave you the way Jungkook and Yoongi did?
But Jimin... there was so much pride and ego you had to swallow to reach out to him. And then you'd have to explain why you ghosted him all this while. Taehyung no doubt would have updated him after you and Namjoon had watched his band play all those months ago. You knew Jimin could be petty, and you probably- no, definitely- deserved whatever anger Jimin had towards you. But you did owe him a massive apology, and maybe this was time for you to put your big girls pants on and show him how you had grown?
Namjoon or Jimin... how would you choose? Flip a coin? Just walk out and see where your feet take you?
You screamed into your empty bedroom. This was too frustrating. You just wanted a dick for fuck's sake, why was it so difficult?
Huffing, you got out of bed and went to your wardrobe to get dressed. Something casual, easy to take off but not that easy because you were not that desperate. No, no. Not desperate. Not at all. Your everyday underwear, at home bra, an old tshirt, hoodie and pants. Yes, perfect. Casual. Understated sexy. Good.
You picked your phone from the bed. Back to the main question- who would you call. The ex or the who could've been. Pick one. But how? Don't think. Just pick one for fuck's sake.
And so you did. You unblocked the number. You shot him a quick message. Hey, can I come over?
The reply came as quickly. Sure. Still the same passcode.
Same address. Same passcode to his door. Your heart clenched. It was too late to back out. There would be a lot of explaining to do, but you were going to get that dick. Hopefully.
You grabbed your bag and walked out of your apartment.
--
TONIGHT
He moans shamelessly as you take his cock whole, the head pushing against your throat, your lips adjusting around his girth. Laying on top of him, you readjust so you can take him more, but he pulls you back so he can continue eating your pussy. Both your mouths and tongues working on each other's ex, drawing out muffled moans and groans that only add to the pleasure.
A finger enters your cunt, then two, the pace frantic and hurried, making you unable to focus on sucking his cock. Your hand takes over, stroking his full length, wet and slick from your saliva.
"Ah, fuck Princess, you're so wet," he hums against your sex.
You arch your back when he dives in again, his tongue and fingers pulling screams out of you now. His cock forgotten, you lie helplessly on top of him, surrendering your body to him, for him to take you to your climax. He pulls you higher, to finger fuck you faster and harder, while his tongue whirls over your clit. Your body writhe, your legs shake. He removes his fingers and focuses on your clit now.
Close, so so close.
Then you feel it. His hands on your ass cheeks, groping and squeezing them, parting them. Your holes clench tight. A cool liquid drips and slides down in between, sending you into a mad frenzy. Then another tongue touches your rim.
Wait- another tongue?
You jerk at the realisation and attempt to look back, only for a hand to press your head down against your lover's crotch. Mind hazy and mouth hanging open, you could only stick your tongue out to lick whatever part of his cock you could reach. The tongues behind you keep going, wet squelches and slobbery noises fill your ears until they are all blacked out as you cum, hard.
Your body spasms through your orgasm and still vibrates when you are flipped over to lie on your back. Your eyelids are heavy, but you force them open.
Jimin sits between your legs licking his lips, a satisfied smirk on his face. Next to him is Taehyung, all puppy dog eyes as he slithers up your body, kissing your stomach, breasts and then against your lips, he murmurs, "Sorry I'm late, darling."
Whatever response you have turns into a moan as Jimin slides into you. Taehyung swallows your moans, then peppers your jaws with more kisses as his best friend starts fucking you hard. He watches you sliding up and down on the bed, large hands grazing your pert nipples, his mouth never far from your neck.
"Feels good, Princess?"
"Yeah," you pant, "so good."
Taehyung chuckles and nips your neck. You yelp. "Sorry darling, I can't resist. I'll mark your tits later, okay?"
Before you can answer, Taehyung moves back so Jimin can bring your legs up to your chest, practically folding you in half. He fucks you even harder now, the sounds of his skin meeting yours and the bed banging against the wall are ringing loud, competing with your moans that are slowly turning into wails, with how deep he is hitting you inside now.
"Oh fuck... fuck..."
"Gonna cum, Princess? Gonna cream my cock?" He goads you.
You whimper.
"Gonna make you all nice and wet for Tae, hmm?"
Your eyes start to roll back.
"Fuck, Princess, that's it, cum with me. Cum!"
You let out a soundless scream as your cunt clamps down hard, and with a few more thrusts, Jimin empties himself in you. He gives you a deep kiss, whispering what a good girl you are, before removing himself from you completely, moving aside to let his best friend take you now.
Taehyung pulls you up to sit you on top of him, guiding his cock into your messy hole. You squirm and tense, sore from Jimin's fucking but still greedy for Taehyung's monster dick. Slowly, slowly you sink onto him, until he is fully seathed inside you.
"That's it, darling," he praises you, "I knew you can take it."
You weakly kiss his neck. His large hands are holding your hips. "Now relax and let me fuck you, hmm?"
"Fuck me good, Tae," you sweetly beg.
And fuck you good he does. Slow long thrusts that turn into manic pumping, bouncing you like a rag doll on top of him. Jimin sits himself behind you, kissing your back and shoulders, then wrapping his fingers around your neck.
"Fuck, who knew you like being choked so much," Taehyung pants, "she got so tight, Min-ah."
"Good," Jimin nips your ear. "Let's see if we can make you squirt again, hmm Princess?"
His free hand snakes down and starts rubbing your clit, as Taehyung continues pounding into you. Your stomach tightens, your legs shake, and a heat explodes within you, you lose control of your body but your two lovers are there to hold you, to paint your inside further, to claim you.
When you gain some sort of coherence, you find yourself cleaned and tucked in bed, sandwiched between the two men. Taehyung has a koala hold on you, as he always does when he sleeps, but Jimin is gently rubbing your head, watching you. You blink, cheeks slowly heating up in embarrassment at the tender way he is looking at you.
"I'm glad you came back to me," he whispers, "to us."
You ignore the sudden tight grip in your heart. "Me too."
And you mean it. You are glad out of seven, you are able to save these two.
Summary: After three months of no intimate actions as Seokjin's sugar baby, you finally find out what it's like to have him open you up till you bloom.
Pairing: sugar daddy Seokjin x shy university student f!reader
Genre: non-idol au, s2l, sugar daddy
WC: 3.6k
Rating: NSFW, no minors allowed
Warning: sugar daddy Jin, shy and timid sugar baby reader, reader is nicknamed petal by our WWH, reader carries some emotional baggage which isn't mentioned here but will be in future chapters, pwp, grinding, fingering, oral (m receiving), unprotected sex, dom Jin, begging, multiple orgasms, riding, Seokjin has a third leg obviously, and... i think that's it??
A/N: Starting 2023 with my brain producing the smut scenes in this fic, and somehow I decided to make a series out of it. Hah. This will be the first installment of my Seokjin Sugar Daddy series, The Wallflower Series.
Major thanks to the amazing @moonleeai for beta-ing and brainstorming with me, your appreciation for the smut scenes feeds my ego and makes me extra embarrassed too lol. And also to WaywardSammy for the BEAUTIFUL BANNER. I don't know how you took the picture out of my head and made it into this super pretty artwork.
You take a deep breath as you enter Seokjin’s penthouse. It is not your first time here, but your heart is pounding wildly, remembering the words he whispered into your ears last night.
Tomorrow, my petal, I will ravish and devour you.
You shudder. Your senses have been heightened ever since, and you feel like a taut string on a bow ready to snap.
You have known Seokjin for a few days over three months now, and since the initial meeting when you both agreed to this arrangement, he has been nothing but kind, patient and generous. He told you that the first three months were for you both to get to know each other. You were able to read between the lines, though- it was a test that you needed to pass. So you spent time with him, accompanying him to dinners, fishing trips, and staying at his place while he gamed the whole night till the sun came up. You never asked for anything, you remained quiet and mousy at the events he brought you to, listening to murmurs and gossip and reporting them to him. You learned to fish so you could feed into his competitive streak, and you even tried your hands at gaming; a luxury you never had growing up. And during all these times, he had never touched you, apart from a peck on the cheek when he dropped you off at your place. However, with every notification on your phone of a deposit made into your bank account, you knew when the time came, you would have to be ready for him.
And now, the time has indeed come. Your body feels hot all over as your sugar daddy approaches you. He looks incredibly handsome, and you keep wondering why he would pick you, a plain wallflower, when he could have picked any other beautiful women, even celebrities.
“Petal,” he lands a soft kiss on your cheek, “you look like you’re about to pass out.” He stands so impossibly close to you, enveloping you with his musk, making you feel dizzy with want and lust.
You let out a nervous chuckle. “I am nervous,” you admit, knowing Seokjin values honesty above all. “I’m worried I won’t be good enough.”
“I will be satisfied, and you will be too,” he promises. “Are you wearing the gift I got you?”
You nod. The lingerie sticks to your skin, clammy from all the nerves and anxiety. Seokjin takes your hand and leads you to the sofa. He sits down and pulls you to his lap. Insecurity engulfs you when he wraps his hand around your middle, his fingers digging into the flesh underneath your clothes. You shudder when his fingers travel up your side, touch so fleeting you instinctively turn to him, silently begging for more. His chest rumbles in appreciation once his large hand covers your breast, and once his fingers dig into the supple flesh, your doubts fly away, your mind filled with more need and lust for him.
“So soft,” he whispers, squeezing your breast again. You lean further into him, embarrassed that you are already making a mess between your legs from a single action.
“Been wanting to touch these tits since the day I met you,” his nose nudges your neck, his words slither along your skin. “I’ve thought about them so much, had to control myself these last three months. Do you think about me at all, baby? Hmm?”
Another gush of arousal leaks out onto your panties, you revel at his admission that he thinks of you too. “Yeah,” you pant. You do, you do indeed. You fantasize about him every night, since you started being his sugar baby, wondering what it would be like to finally be intimate with him. Not that you have a lot of references to go with, but from the time you have spent with him, you would like to think he would be more attentive than… no, you’re not going to think about that.
Seokjin pulls you into a searing kiss, his hand still kneading your breast while his other hand grabs your ass to pull your body flush against his. He continues kissing and touching you, pulling out moan after moan, touching your body to make you jerk and press yourself further onto him. You can feel his hard erection underneath you, so you naturally start grinding on him, seeking friction to enhance your pleasure. You hear the growl first before he bucks his hips up, catching you by surprise.
“Oh my god!” You yelp, your sex feels like it is on fire. You hold your breath and grip his shoulders, your orgasm just within reach.
He tuts in your ear. “Gonna cum already?” He nips your earlobe. “I haven’t even started yet, petal. You’re so sensitive, hmm?”
You cling onto him. “Want to,” you mumble.
He maneuvers you so that you are seated facing him, straddling him. His hands are on your thighs, pushing your dress up and up, until your panties are shown to his hungry eyes. He licks his lips. Your cheeks burn at his brazen show of desire.
“God, I have good taste.”
His self-praising line makes you giggle a little, which in turns makes him laugh too. Feeling the tension abating a little gives you some courage to lift your dress up and off, presenting yourself in the lingerie he has gifted you.
“Fuck…” he leans back on the sofa. You feel your skin heating at the way he looks at your body. The self-conscious feeling is creeping in again, your hands itching to cover your middle, but before you can do so, he grabs your hands and pulls them to the small of your back, pinning them there. The position makes you arch your back, pushing your breasts closer towards him.
“Fuck,” he curses again, “I’m going to have so much fun taking these off of you.”
You are delirious. Seokjin is merely admiring your body with his eyes, butl your arousal continues soaking your panties. You grind your hips again, desperate to feel his hard cock. You wriggle your wrists, and he adjusts his grip on you so that you can link your fingers with his.
“My baby is so horny, hmm?” He chuckles in fake amusement. “Want to wet my jeans so much, do you?”
You let out a series of yeses amidst your panting. You rock your hips, angling your pussy so you can rub your clit against his denim-covered bulge.
“That’s it, baby,” Seokjin encourages you, “ride me till you cum.”
“Oh god,” you squeal as you feel your orgasm building up, “oh god… Daddy!”
You ride him harder, and you wriggle your wrists free. Your hands immediately latch onto your lingerie clad breasts, squeezing them so tight till it hurts, while your lower body continues to rock in Seokjin’s lap.
“Fucking hell, look at you so lewd and loud,” he chuckles darkly. “So desperate to cum, aren’t you?”
You nod your head furiously.
“So cum, baby. Cum for your daddy.”
His words are all it takes for your dam to burst. Your jaw drops open as heat engorges your body, from your core traveling up to your head, rendering you breathless and motionless. Amidst the explosion, you feel the bra of your lingerie set being ripped off of your body, and Seokjin descends, almost aggressively, to your freed tits.
His strong hands hold you up when you just want to melt into his hard chest. He sucks, nibbles, gropes to his heart’s content as you recover from your orgasm.
“You’re shaking, baby, you cum good?”
“Yes, Daddy,” you breathe out, wincing when he sucks and pulls on your nipples more roughly.
“You look so good cumming for me. Wanna see it again.”
Before you can tell him to give you a breather, he flips you over till you are lying on the sofa. He stands up, towering over you, running his fingers over your body. You realize then he is still fully clothed, and you notice the wet spot on his crotch.
Seokjin follows your line of sight and taps your chin. “Look how you made it wet, baby. I bet your panties are ruined.” You turn to hide your face but he spreads your legs open and tuts at what he finds. “You’ve soaked your panties. You dirty, dirty girl.”
You mewl, you can feel the satin material of your panties stick uncomfortably to your pussy.
“So wet,” he continues, “I bet my fingers will slide right into your little pussy.”
Your eyes returned to the wet bulge on his pants. You reach to him shyly, palming his erection. “Daddy…”
“Hmm? Baby wants cock now?”
You nod, your body writhing from a new wave of arousal. Your mouth waters at the thought of sucking Seokjin’s cock. He steps closer to your head and your mind reels from the anticipation, but instead of taking his cock out for you, he manhandles you again until you are positioned upside down on the sofa- your head dangling on the edge of the seat, while your lower body is propped up against the back of the seat, your legs open and hanging over.
Blood rushes to your brain and you internally panic. “Seokjin,” you call out to him, worry laced in your voice.
“Relax, baby,” he unzips his pants and pulls his cock out, stroking it lazily. “This way you can suck me while I play with your wet pussy.”
You try to process what he has just said, but your mouth opens automatically as his cock comes to your vision. He praises you as he slides it in, until the head hits the back of your throat. You gag so he withdraws, before he goes in again, forcing himself a little deeper this time.
“Good girl, taking daddy’s cock so well,” he caresses your cheek, “you’re gonna take it all, yeah? Relax your throat, baby.”
You close your eyes. Your jaw is aching already but you force your mouth and throat to adjust to his girth and length.
“That’s a good girl,” Seokjin moans above you as you swallow more of his length. He rains praises on you as you take him more, determined to deep throat him. “You feel so good, baby, fuck!” He reaches down to your breasts and squeezes them, holding onto them as he starts fucking your throat. You gag again but he ignores you, making you open yourself more to take him.
Saliva pools in your mouth, and you choke, needing an outlet for the liquid before it goes up your nose. Seokjin relents a little, giving you a small window to let your saliva seep out, rolling down your face to mix with the tears from your eyes. He picks up his pace, his balls slapping against your nose, and despite the constraint you are in, you feel feverish with wanton lust.
Even more when you feel his fingers pulling your panties aside. Cold air assaults your clammy pussy, giving it some relief, but not for long as Seokjin pats your pussy roughly with his fingers, making your body jolt.
“Let’s see how tight you are,” he inserts a long finger and your walls clench immediately at the intrusion. He hisses at the tightness and adds another finger. You moan around his length. Seokjin fingers you hard and fast, scissoring you open. “Fucking tight cunt. My cock is gonna split you open, baby.”
You clench again at his words. He chuckles, “You like that, don’t you? You want Daddy’s big cock to stretch you out?”
As a reply, you moan again around his cock and your pussy pulsates around his fingers. He curses, “Fucking pussy sucking me in!” He fingers you faster, until the squelching sound fills the room, mixed with your moans and his. Then without any warning, he yanks his fingers out and starts rubbing your clit harshly. He presses his body down and continues fucking your mouth, trapping you underneath him. You grip his ass, holding on for dear life as you suck his cock, and his fingers urgently pull another orgasm out of you.
Seokjin pulls out of your mouth when your legs start shaking, allowing you to scream his name as another tsunami of pleasure washes through you. His fingers do not relent, however, eager to prolong your orgasm as much as possible.
“Fuck… Daddy, please… no,” you push his fingers away once you are able to collect yourself, and Seokjin does as you ask, only after he snaps your panties back in place, making you jerk from oversensitivity.
He leaves you in your position, upside down on his sofa, as he watches your body come down from its climax. He makes a show of licking his fingers clean of your juices, and you cannot believe how your body responds so quickly after your orgasm. You are hungrier than before.
Your hand goes to his cock, your fingers wrapping around it, still damp from your saliva. “Daddy,” you mewl, desperate need in your voice. “Want your cock, please…”
Your sugar daddy smiles mockingly at you. “You just had my cock in your mouth, baby. That’s not enough?”
You whimper at his teasing. You want to be greedy. “Want your cock in me, daddy, please.”
“You sure, baby? Your pussy can barely take my fingers.”
“Daddy!” You whine, your hand stroking him with more determination now, while your other hand slides under your ruined panties. Seokjin’s eyes widen at your action. “Please, daddy, I can take you, please.”
Seokjin pulls your panties aside again to see two of your fingers pumping desperately in and out your pussy. He watches you intently, trying to stay in control, but you feel his cock twitch in your hand. You tighten your grip on him.
“Daddy, it’ll be so nice and tight for you,” you insert a third finger, eyes rolling back at the stretch. “Ah, daddy, please fuck me!”
His cock twitches again, so you finger yourself harder. You chant your nickname for him, begging him to replace your fingers.
“Fuck me, please daddy, my fingers are so small, I need your big cock, please!” You watch him through your lidded eyes, your vision getting hazier with lust overtaking your body yet again. Never in a million years did you think you would be able to act and talk so lewdly, to be so shameless before a man, but Seokjin, in more ways than one, has changed you, and the tension from the past three months has eroded all your decency. You are so horny for him, you just want him to use you as he likes.
Seokjin grips both your hands, removing them from his cock and your cunt. He maneuvers you again so that you’re seated upright, then he undresses fully. You take the time to recalibrate yourself after being upside down for so long, while also watching his toned body being revealed.
He sits down and motions you to get back on his lap. “Face the front,” he instructs, and you dumbly obey, your body following his orders naturally. His large hands engulfs you, kneading and molding your flesh, and you surrender yourself fully to him.
“You beg so sweetly, so I’m gonna give you what you want, baby.” He whispers in your ear, sending goosebumps all over your body. He places your legs on either side of his, and then he spreads them, opening you up and keeping you open.
“My panties,” you breathe out, wiggling as the fabric of your underwear bunches up against your slit.
“Keep them on. You look so slutty with them on.”
Seokjin pulls the panties aside and lines his cockhead with your hole. You grimace as you feel it bullying itself in, gasping in pain as your pussy is stretched to the limit.
“Told you it’s not gonna fit,” he chuckles against your cheek, licking the tears that have escaped your eyes.
“It will fit, it will fit,” you chant to yourself. Despite the stinging discomfort, you are already addicted to the feel of his cock splitting you open. You sink down, slowly but surely, and when your pussy finally swallows him whole, you are nearly hysterical from how good he feels inside you.
“Fuck, baby, so tight and so warm,” he hugs you from behind.
“So big, daddy,” you pant. You reach down to your lower abdomen and rub your skin there, feeling for the bulge. “So big and so good.”
“My petal, my girl,” Seokjin pulls your face towards him to kiss you sweetly, as if he is so proud of you for taking all of him in. “My good, good girl. Daddy’s gonna fuck you good now, okay?”
“Yes, daddy, please.”
“My good girl deserves to be fucked silly, hmm?” His hands rest gently on your breasts. You sigh your agreement into his kiss. “Put your hands behind my neck, baby, and keep them there, okay?”
You grip the back of his neck.
“Good girl.”
He starts pounding into you hard and fast without any warning; the air from your lungs is knocked out so suddenly that you let out silent screams as his cock reaches new depths inside you. You hold on to his neck tightly, not wanting to disobey him, so your fingers dig into his skin there, which makes him hiss and go even faster.
“So fucking tight, so fucking wet! Been thinking about this pussy for so long. Fuck, you feel so good. Tightest pussy I ever had.” Seokjin spits each comment with every hard thrust.
Your body is jostled around, bouncing wildly on top of him. When you finally find your voice, you cannot even string any coherent sentence. You are literally being fucked dumb by him. And you revel in it, in the way your tits are slapping against his open palms, in his heavy breathing on your neck, in the sounds of skin slapping against skin, so loud in your ears that it adds to your arousal.
“Gonna cream my cock, baby? Gonna let me cum in you? Fill this tight pussy up?”
“Oh god, yes! Yes!” You squeal your answer, and squeal even more when his fingers find your engorged bud. He rubs it almost brutally, vigorously drawing your orgasm closer. “Daddy, daddy, please! Oh fuuuck…”
The pressure is getting too much, and you frantically seek for something to hold on to. You find his hair and you clutch onto it tightly as you feel the explosion nearing.
“Daddy, oh, fuck, daddy!”
“Fuck, that’s it, cum for daddy, come on!”
Your core explodes, and you feel like your soul has left your body, floating and basking in the climax of your pleasure, while your body seizes up, your pussy clamping down painfully tight around Seokjin’s cock, making him lose control and spurt into you. He pumps his hips up a couple more times, emptying himself to the last drop, before sinking into the sofa, pulling you with him.
“Fuck, that was amazing.”
You blink your eyes open. Now that your mind is cleared of lust, your insecurity creeps back in. “Did I do good?” you ask meekly.
Seokjin answers you with a searing kiss. “Did so well. My good, good girl.”
Your heart soars at his praise. You rest your body on his, his hands still secure around you, and you feel so blissed out, so safe, you just want to fall asleep in his arms.
“Petal, do you have any plans tomorrow?”
His question brings you back. You quickly run through your schedule in your head. “No, none, why?”
“You’re staying with me till Monday,” he lays you down on the sofa, his body still connected to yours. Your heart starts racing again. He pinches a nipple and you squirm, clenching your pussy. “My girl is so insatiable, hmm?” He bites and sucks on your breast. You clench again. “Keep clenching around my cock, baby, make me hard again.”
It does not take long at all.
Surprisingly, you feel pretty good, you might even say you’re glowing, despite the very little sleep you got over the last 2 nights, and the soreness in your limbs and your pussy. You wonder if people around you can tell that you have just spent many, many hours being fucked to oblivion by a very big cock belonging to a very hot, very sexy man.
You get to class, and gingerly sit down at your usual seat in the back corner of the room, trying to be as invisible as you possibly can, staying out of your classmates’ attempts to make small talk. You wriggle a little to alleviate the soreness of your sex, but all it does is remind you when you sat on Seokjin’s face, wriggling while he ate you out until you were a crying mess. You immediately slap your cheeks to stop your mind from wandering too far into the details. Luckily, your phone dings and breaks you from your reverie. You nearly drop it though, when you see how much he has deposited into your account.
You do a quick calculation- you have enough to pay off a sizeable chunk of your parents’ gambling debt, three months worth of rent, and even the university fee for next semester. You cover your mouth in shock.
Another ding from your phone arrives, and with a trembling hand, you open the next notification.
KSJ >> Booked you an appointment this afternoon at Mikrokosmos Spa. Enjoy yourself, my sweet petal. I’ll see you Friday night.
PS: Tada! Hope you enjoy this fic. I'm excited to set this series out and in motion, to see how this couple navigate their new dynamic... especially with OT7 in the horizon, hmm?
If you enjoy reading this fic, it would mean the world that you reblog it so that it will reach a wider audience. Come talk to me in the comments or send me an ask! As always, thank you for reading! 💜
There are a few names in your Little Black Book, but these seven hold a special place in your heart.
Now that you are closing that chapter in your life, you reminisce the time and experience you have had with your seven favourite men.
Rating: Explicit, 18+. NO MINORS ALLOWED!!
1. Min Yoongi - The One You Trust
2. Kim Seokjin - The One You Hate
3. Jung Hoseok - The One Who Broke Your Heart
4. Jeon Jungkook - Your Kindred Spirit
5. Kim Taehyung - The One You Had a Crush On
6. Park Jimin - Your Nemesis
7. Kim Namjoon - The Endgame
As always, likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated!
(banner by @itaeewon - thank you jen, especially for the super fast turn-around!!)
Title: Shut Up!
Summary: Once Namjoon’s on a roll about something, there’s really only one sure-fire way to shut him up. Ironically, it isn’t his mouth that needs to be full.
Pairing: Namjoon x reader (no gender mentioned)
Genre: NSFW - minors begone!!!!, pwp (who tf am i omg), married!au
WC: 1.4k
Warnings: language, kissing, oral (m. receiving), maybe a lil dumbification im not actually sure, bodily fluids very present, i guess reader is a bit dom?
A/N: I DON’T KNOW WHO WROTE THIS, I WAS POSSESSED, THERE IS NO JO HERE. 🙈
Also, this is ENTIRELY @here2bbtstrash’s fault, or at least this anon’s fault!!!!
Thank you @kookstempo for the beta job!!!!! 🦃 💕💕💕💕
“Oh my god,” you lament, throwing your head back into the plush couch behind it, eyes rolling back, breath escaping you in one short huff. And not even for the good reasons.
Though… there’s an idea.
“What?” Your husband looks at you innocently, eyes a little wide at your uncharacteristic outburst. “What’s wrong?”
“I love you,” you say, fighting back a smile. His eyebrows raise a little; you’ve been together long enough that he knows this must be coming first to soften a blow. “I love hearing your thoughts. I love that we can share our thoughts with each other.”
“But?” he chimes in intuitively, chin starting to jut, anticipating defensiveness.
You gesture at the tv a little wildly. “But we paused the episode because you had something to say about it forty-two minutes ago. I timed it!”
He blinks at you, like this cannot possibly be true.
“Okay,” he says slowly, “but the thing is–”
“No!” you cry, tossing the remote onto the coffee table and sitting up to look at him. You have officially hit your breaking point. “Namjoon, no! Please - let me put the show back on.”
“Okay,” he repeats, “but -”
“No!” you shriek, and then you scramble up his tree of a body and press your nose to his, bumping his glasses so they’re slightly askew. Against his lips, you whisper, “Shut up, shut up, for the love of God, shut up.”
His hands come and rest low on your hips, practically on your ass, and he gives your nose a little nudge with his own, his lips pressing to yours - not so much a kiss as a fumble.
“It’s just that -” he mumbles against your mouth, and you know - you know - he’s fucking with you on purpose, now. He’s hard beneath you already; he knows as well as you do what you’re planning.
“Shut up,” you tell him again, kissing him in earnest this time, your fingers going for the hem of his t-shirt. He takes off his glasses and tosses them blindly towards the coffee table, then lifts his arms so you can pull the fabric around his head.
You go for his joggers next, and he lifts up eagerly as you slide them and his boxers down in one go. He kicks the black material free from his ankles and spreads his legs a little without you even telling him to, knowing exactly what’s coming.
Five years of marriage will do that; he knows the steps of this dance well, just like you know that the second your mouth is around him, you’re only getting one syllable words out of him until it’s done. It’s the only truly effective way to shut this man up.
You slide your hands up the insides of his thighs, pressing your nails in just a bit as you do. Namjoon hisses, closing his eyes and tilting his head back. You reach for the base of him, purposely brushing your fingertips along his balls on their way by, just lightly enough to leave a tingle, to make him shiver.
You pump him once, twice, as you settle on your stomach between his legs, and glance up to see how he’s doing. He’s looking down at you, those eyes dark and glinting sharply, and he brushes one hand over the top of your head as he exhales, waiting.
He doesn’t say a word. What a good boy.
You lick thick stripes from the base, stopping before the head each time - just to tease him. Just to build it up. He grunts each time you stop short, but when you pump him again - now slicked with spit - he sighs in relief, letting out a wispy, “God, yeah,” on a breath.
You reward him by wrapping your lips around his tip, tonguing his slit for the barest second before sliding further down his shaft, your hand working the part you haven’t reached just yet.
In all honesty, sloppy blowjobs aren’t usually your thing. You love to go down on Namjoon, love to hear what sounds you can pull from him, love to watch his eyebrows furrow and his adam’s apple bob. But messy, not usually. Special occasions only.
Tonight feels special. Tonight you have a goal. You want to render this genius man absolutely stupid. You want him to be devoid of any words that aren’t your own name.
You work both hand and mouth over him, the glide smooth as you let spit past your lips on each pass.
“Fuck,” Namjoon gasps as you tongue the underside of his cock on a downward pass.
You hum happily, setting a steady rhythm, hollowing your cheeks and swallowing him down just a bit more each time. When your lips’ seal around him breaks, releasing a wet, sloppy slurping noise through the otherwise quiet room, Namjoon groans above you.
“God,” he utters again, his voice so low you feel it in your toes, and you lift your eyes to take him in. His chest is flushed dark, heaving. The fingers of one hand twist in the throw blanket on the arm of the couch behind him, the other hovers near you, like he wants to touch but doesn’t want to break the spell.
You relax your jaw and take him down as far as you can, using both hands to hold his trembling thighs in place as you bring your nose closer and closer to his stomach. Once you’ve taken him as far as you’re able, you hold him there, your throat spasming around him. He whines, which almost makes you laugh, so you release him with a messy pop, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.
“Shit, shit,” he gasps, the muscles in his stomach rippling beautifully. You take him in your hand again as you catch your breath, let your throat recover for a second.
You smile deviously, and purr, “Not so much to say now, hmm?”
His eyes fly open, disbelieving, his mouth falling open to gasp his next breath. His eyes flutter closed again as you continue to glide your hand from base to tip and back, and he shakes his head weakly, voice broken as he manages, “N-no. Fuck.”
You take him in your mouth again, hand keeping a steady but lazy rhythm at the base, reveling in the noises that drip from his mouth - desperate pants punctuated sharply by deep grunts as he fights to control himself, the curses he mumbles, barely audible, sharp consonants tripping out of his mouth as his abs flex in time with your movements.
You know he’s close when he starts bucking minutely into the heat of your mouth, staccato grunts morphing into long, legato groans. This is one of your favorite iterations of your husband - fucked out, eyes squeezed shut, sweat rolling from his brow into his dampened hairline, his brain finally silenced as he chases the feeling, chases his high.
His hand comes to your head, fingers tangling in your hair as he moans wordlessly. You take the warning seriously, popping off his tip and speeding up your hand as his feet press into the couch desperately, hips bucking just a little. You’re sure he’d rather come in your mouth, but you’re feeling selfish tonight. You want to see what he gives you.
His moan warbles, volume increasing as his hand tightens in your hair, and then he’s releasing rope after rope of cum; most of it lands on the flat of his stomach, but the last bit dribbles down the side of his softening cock, running over your fingers. Your slow your hand, watching his face carefully, until you can tell he’s spent.
You give a self-satisfied hum, sitting back on your haunches to admire your handiwork. He opens one eye blearily, a smile coming over his face.
“Okay,” he breathes, laughing a little. “I’m done talking now.”
eeeeeeep!!!! hope you enjoyed thank you for reading!!!!!
Hello my friend! I just wanted to say that I love your stories and everything! I also wanted to know if you are doing any stories requests or anything? 🤗🤗🤗🤗
Hello!!! Aaaab you’re too kind 💜💜 thank you so much for reading my stories!
I’ve never done story requests before, but I shall do my best 😁😁 request away!
This year for Valentine’s Day, we got a little photographic.
They say a picture is worth a thousand words (at least).
Some of our wonderful and talented members have come together to create a beautiful collection of stories exchanged as Valentine’s gifts. Each participant was given a two inspiration photos from another participant and had to create a minimum of 1k word story using that prompt and photos. We hope you enjoy these as much as we did 💕
*Not all stories are Valentine’s related*
KEY:
🔞 - nsfw (mature themes)
✅ - sfw (no warnings)
💖 - smut
⚠️ - other warnings
SET UP - emojis: Title (if link is to another platform) | Author [parts] pairings, genre/aus, rating, word count
BangtanWritersHQ Presents: "Hope Right Here” Masterlist
For February 2023, we put together a collection of fics to celebrate our Sunshine Prince Jung Hoseok’s birthday! We asked our members to share with us all of their Hobi-centric stories, so that we could share them with you! If you are in a Hobi mood(or let’s be honest, any form he takes be it Hobi, j-hope, Hoseok, Jay, etc), this masterlist is for you! In this post you’ll find fics from our network members that feature Hobi as the main character with various AU types and tropes! Browse at your leisure and ENJOY!
KEY:
🔞 - nsfw (mature themes)
✅ - sfw (no warnings)
💖 - smut
⚠️ - other warnings
SET UP - emojis: Title (if link is to another platform) | Author [parts] pairings, genre/aus, rating, word count
Summary: There are a few names in your Little Black Book, and these six hold a special place in your heart. Until Kim Namjoon entered your life, and you realised the endgame was near.
Pairing: Namjoon x female OC, a cameo by Seokjin, and Yoongi, some indirect cameo ofJungkook, Hoseok, Joon’s sister, Joon’s mom, OC mom… it’s a lot okay I know
Rating: Explicit. NO MINORS ALLOWED!
Genre: non idol au, strangers to lovers, established relationship
WC: 8.2k
Warning: swearing, explicit sex acts, oral (f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex (protected and unprotected), mirror sex, multiple orgasms, Joon's big dick and BDE, Joon's sexy body, talk of threesome, some jealousy, Joon is a little possessive, daddy Joon, some angst
A/N: FINALLY THE END IS HERE! Thank you to sexy YTC Run BTS Namjoon for giving me the inspiration and the drive to complete this chapter. Everything here is unbetaed, as I was just too eager to get it done and published, so sincere apologies in advance. Also, segments of the story are not chronological, so... sorry also if you get confused. But I like being ambiguous even if that confuses my readers. Sorry. Lastly, ENJOY!
Series Masterlist: Little Black Book
You walked back into the large hall, where your firm’s annual office party was being held. You felt a bit weird, you had never done anything this daring in public before. Well, not since Hoseok fucked you against a tree in a backyard during a house party years ago. But you could not deny your boyfriend’s request, not when the glint in his dragon eyes and the little smirk in his mouth (enough to produce that damned dimple on his cheek) promised you a delicious reward.
So here you were, coming back from a quick trip to the restroom, with your thong bunched up tightly in your fist.
And there he was in all his glory- black turtleneck that showed off his chest, slim-fit black pants that made his legs look even longer, and those fucking glasses that made him look so innocent but you knew, oh you knew, how naughty he could be.
Namjoon noticed you approaching so he opened his arm, and you slithered right to his side, sliding your thong into his pants back pocket. His dimples deepened at your movement, and anyone watching would think he was just smitten with you, but you were well aware of what lay beneath- the urge to give you the kind of pounding that would put you on cloud nine for days and days. You clenched yourself hard, hoping with all hopes that nothing was leaking out to betray your secret state of undress. God, you were such a horny mess.
“You both are so in love it’s making me sick.”
You turned to your boss, raising an eyebrow at his snide remark. “Jealous much?”
Seokjin snorted at your retort, but to your surprise, did not say anything back. Keeping his eyes on you, he downed his champagne, and you saw his ears getting redder, from alcohol perhaps, or really, jealousy? Namjoon chuckled into your hair, while his hand glided down from your waist to the small of your back, then lower still to the top of your ass. He let out a hum, no doubt pleased he no longer felt the outline of your thong under your skirt. His touch was intoxicating, but you still watched Seokjin like a hawk.
Min Yoongi, who was standing next to your boss, cleared his throat. “You know you don’t have to keep playing my album, right? I think it’s been looped three times now.”
Seokjin slapped his back playfully. “Ah, you are one of our biggest clients! We have to support you!” You saw Yoongi hiding a small smile behind his drink. How typical, he always liked fishing for compliments despite his nonchalant demeanor.
“We’re basically using your music to brag.” You snatched a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. “Why do you think our shareholders AND their kids are here?”
Seokjin clicked a finger gun at you. “She’s smart, this one, that’s why she’s my protege.” Seokjin motioned for another drink. You counted five from the start of the night, this would be his sixth. He was drinking too fast and too much; it was quite unlike him. “Do you know she’s the one who brought Yoongi in?” The question was directed at Namjoon and your boyfriend dully nodded. “Told me her friend was looking for a law firm to represent him. The whole office nearly lost it when agustd himself walked in. Some couldn’t believe they were looking at agustd in the flesh, some couldn’t believe YOU were actually friends with him!”
Seokjin’s signature laughter boomed in the hall, causing some people to turn to look at your little group. Namjoon and Yoongi laughed along politely, but you continued to feel uneasy over Seokjin’s behavior. “You know, you never told us how you two became friends,” he eyed you and Yoongi.
“Ah,” you paused, looking at the rapper. His face remained expressionless, yet you knew he was giving you the rein to control the story, especially with your boyfriend present.
“We actually met at a bar, and he thought I was… a prostitute.”
Seokjin nearly spat out his drink. Namjoon squeezed your waist a little too tightly. Yoongi suddenly found a very interesting spot on the floor.
“You know my old boss,” you reminded Seokjin, “he liked to take his clients to those kinds of places, and I always had to tag along to pay their bills and get taxis for everyone, all that shit.”
Seokjin scoffed. “Yeah, he was a creep. The best thing I did after moving here from New York was transfer you to my team.”
Namjoon squeezed your waist again, his fingers dug deeper into your flesh.
“So, yeah, that’s how I first met Yoongi. Told him I wasn’t what he thought I was, gave him my card instead.” Then he made you cum with his tongue in the bar’s restroom. Twice.
“After that night, we met up a few times when he needed help with some legal issues about plagiarism, libel, and stuff like that. ” And you sucked his dick in his studio. Sometimes he bent you over his recording equipment to eat you out too.
“I’m just glad he trusts me- us,” you corrected yourself quickly, “enough to represent him now.” You trusted him enough to make a sex tape with him. You still had a copy of it. As he did.
Yoongi nodded. “Wouldn’t have anyone else.”
Your boss stared at you pointedly. What was wrong with him? You felt like he knew something and was trying to pry it out of you here of all places. He knew you had a few fuck buddies, apart from himself, before Namjoon came into the picture, but you never shared names. Did Seokjin suspect you had been sleeping with Yoongi? Was he trying to get it out in the open to make Namjoon jealous? But why? There was nothing in it for him, unless he was just being petty, unless… could it be possible? That he was jealous over you going steady with Namjoon and thus depriving him off his weekly fuck session with you? He could not possibly be that childish… but then again, Seokjin could be unpredictable. Especially with six glasses of champagne in his system.
“All right,” your boss sighed and put his arms around Yoongi, “I think it’s time to show you off to our shareholders. Those lovebirds look like they have better things to do anyway. Right?” He winked then directed the music producer to another part of the hall.
Your brows furrowed, you were still nowhere near clarity over his odd behavior. You had no time to analyze that further however, for Namjoon’s hand started traveling down to cup your ass.
“Joon! People can see!” You smacked his chest.
“Let them see. I want everyone to know I own this ass.” He pulled you around till you were flushed to his front. You shivered when you felt he was already hard. “You wear this skirt to work everyday, baby?”
You hugged him back, arms tight around his waist. He smelled so good, so manly, you just could not get enough of him, especially with his erection poking at your abdomen. “Not everyday, just when I need to feel good and powerful.”
“Hmm, is that so? I think you just like it when your boss and clients ogle you.”
You stepped back to look at him, your cheeks burning uncontrollably. You definitely felt called out. “Who? Them?”
His face still looked friendly and amiable, but you sensed his energy had taken a more intense turn. “I’ve seen how they look at you, especially at this ass.” He squeezed again, much harder this time, making no effort to hide what he was doing. His touch burned through your skirt onto your skin, and you wish you could stop the flow of arousal leaking onto your inner thighs.
“Fuck, Joon,” you whimpered. “They’re not… I… shit, let’s just go home now.”
He chuckled. “Okay, baby. I’ll wipe you down in the taxi if you get too wet.” He patted his back pocket, where your thong was.
He wiped you down that night, all right. He made you cum over and over with his fingers so he could wipe your creamy cum off of his fingers with your thong, and once he was satisfied, he sucked on the soaked material till you begged him to fuck you. And like a good boyfriend he was, he gave you what you asked, and more, until you lay spent, unable to move, your body oversensitized but somehow your mind still ended up wondering what was going on with Seokjin.
~~~
Your chopsticks clattered noisily on the table, interrupting the conversation between Namjoon and his little sister in the busy restaurant.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, recovering quickly and gripping the chopsticks a little tighter. “Did you say you’re going on a date with Jungkook this Friday?”
Namjoon’s sister nodded. “Yeah, he asked me to go to the arcade with him. Which is a bit unusual,” she smiled shyly, her dimples prominent on her cheeks, “but I like that idea. It’ll be more fun and casual, right?” Your boyfriend nodded, humming in pleasure, from both food and his sister’s excitement.
“I didn’t know you know Jungkook.”
“Friday will be their first meeting, I set them up. She’s been complaining about all the shitty boys in her uni. Thought Jungkook would make a good match with her.”
Namjoon slurped his noodles. Namjoon’s sister was sweet and kind, and as smart as her big brother. But with Jungkook? You simply could not see it.
“Ah, I see,” you forced a smile. “I didn’t know you were setting them up.”
Namjoon glanced at you. “Oh, was I supposed to?”
“Well, it’d be nice to know before you planned all that. He’s my friend.”
“He’s my friend too.”
You poked at your dumpling a little too aggressively. “Well Namjoon, I’ve been friends with him longer than you have, so yes, you should’ve told me!”
“I didn’t think that mattered. I spend as much time with him as you do, if not more.”
“I introduced you to him, it mattered.” You muttered, fully aware how childish you were sounding.
He rolled his eyes. “You’re overreacting.”
Your boyfriend’s off-handed comment set you off, enough to push your food away before standing up. “I’m going to the restroom.” You grabbed your bag and coat, and instead of the toilet, you headed to the exit. You heard Namjoon curse, and his sister worriedly asking him if everything was all right.
Once you stepped out, cold air immediately assaulted your senses, giving you a sudden clarity, and with it, came guilt. You could not understand why you reacted the way you did. No, you had to stop lying to yourself- you knew exactly why. Jungkook asked you out to an arcade a long time ago, and why you turned him down. You simply hated the fact that someone else actually said yes, even when that someone was your own boyfriend’s sweet little sister.
You sighed when you felt a rush of warm air from the restaurant’s door behind you, signaling that Namjoon had come out to see you. He was right, you overreacted, but damned if you were going to apologize. You stood by your opinion, however rashed and illogical, that you should have been involved in the plan from the beginning.
“What the hell was that?” Namjoon finally asked when the silence stretched a little too long.
You took a deep breath; you were a little calmer, but you still tried to answer him carefully. “Jungkook is my friend. One of my closest friends. I’m just upset you set him up with your sister without talking about it with me first.”
Your boyfriend tilted his head, observing you. “I honestly didn’t think it would upset you this much. Actually, I thought you’d be happy for both of them.”
“I’m protective of him, okay?” You snapped. “He’s been through so much shit with people he thought he could trust, so I just wanted to make-”
“And you think my sister isn’t trustworthy enough?” Namjoon cut you off, the ice in his voice biting.
“I didn’t say that.”
“But it’s implied, very clearly.”
You refused to give him any response, not when you could not even comprehend the jumbled emotions you were feeling. You folded your arms defiantly and faced away from your boyfriend.
“What’s Jungkook to you, really?”
Your heart dropped to your stomach. You kept your back to Namjoon. “A friend.”
“Just a friend?”
“A client, who became a really good friend. Okay?”
Namjoon’s eyes were boring through your back. “I told you, I don’t like being lied to.” Despite his level and calm voice, you still felt the anger brimming underneath.
“And I told you, Jungkook was a client, who became a really good friend.” You finally turned to look at your boyfriend, your eyes set on his, staring back at him sternly. However his lack of response continued to feed the uneasiness in you. Your heart beat faster, every logical instinct in you screamed for you to look away, but you could not. You had to stare him down for him to believe your words.
“Okay,” he reached out to cup your cheek. Despite the gentle gesture, you still held your breath. “Let’s go back inside, she’s worried.”
Embarrassment filled you, and your flight instinct kicked in. “You go,Joon. Finish your dinner with your sister. I’ll call her later to apologize.”
“Where are you going?”
“Home.” You turned away, avoiding your boyfriend’s questioning look. You flagged down a taxi “Are you coming back to my place?”
His jaws clenched, he was clearly unhappy but he still opened the taxi door for you, ever the gentleman. “I’m not going to yours tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
The finality in his tone was followed by a slam of the door. You watched him go back into the restaurant, long strides leading him away from you without even a glance back. You exhaled shakily, angry and disappointed at yourself. You decided you did not want to be alone, you did not want to go home if he was not going to be there later. So you gave the taxi driver Hoseok’s address, instead of yours.
~~~
You came home to Namjoon’s place earlier than planned, to the sound of the shower running. Namjoon must have just gotten home too, you thought, and you plopped down on his bed, debating whether to join him or wait for him to finish.
Before you could make a decision, you noticed his notebook- the one where he wrote down all his musings and short poems- open on his side of the bed. You never looked through the book, only reading what he wanted to show you. Curiosity got the better of you, though, so you took a peek.
If I could be under your skin
Closer than we’ve ever been
Wanna lock you up in my sight
But you run away like fish
You stared at his scribbles. Were these lines about you? Was that how he felt about you? Your chest thumped, your mind reeled back to the conversation you had with Hoseok earlier that night.
“Marriage and kids, Hoseok, that’s what he wants.”
“Then tell him that’s not what you want.”
“What if I lose him?”
“Then you lose him. Isn’t it better than living in a lie? Pretending to want something you actually don’t?”
Your heart constricted. Did Namjoon know, was that the reason he wrote these down?
“I know it’s hard, babe. I can see how Namjoon makes you happy, but his golden dick aside, you’re not built for the long run. You and I are the same, we’re too selfish, we’re better off on our own.”
Was that true what Hoseok said? You had been free, yes, before Namjoon, doing things on your own terms and satisfying your urges on your own schedule. But being with Namjoon was good too. He was kind, he challenged you intellectually, he gave you attention the way none of your previous fuck buddies ever did once sex was over. That was not a bad thing, was it? And you knew you gave a lot to Namjoon too. The museums, the parks, the poetry reading and discussion- you gave him your time for all that. Were you supposed to give more?
You nearly jumped out of your skin when the bathroom door opened. You immediately move to stand up, away from the notebook, pretending you just got home then instead of a few minutes earlier.
“You’re home,” your boyfriend greeted you in surprise. “Thought you’d party longer with Hoseok tonight.”
You stared wide eyed at Namjoon- bare chest, towel slung low on his hips. He ruffled his wet hair with his hands, biceps flexing naturally.
“Can’t keep up with his energy anymore, besides why would I waste my time there when this is waiting for me at home?” You made your way to the bathroom, brushing your hand across his abs as you walked past him. You surprised yourself at how calm you sounded.
He followed you, chuckling at your teasing. He leaned on the bathroom door as you started removing your makeup at the sink. You raised an eyebrow at him. “Aren’t you going to put any clothes on?”
He shook his head. “Nah. Am I distracting you?”
“You’re going to catch a cold.” You scolded, but he just folded his arms across his broad chest. “How was your night with Yoongi?”
“It was good, he’s turning me into a whiskey drinker.” He moved to stand behind you, you could see from his reflection how his eyes were roaming up and down your body. The reaction in you was instantaneous. You pressed your legs together to dam the growing arousal. “He invited me to write some lyrics with him.”
“Really? Joon! That’s amazing!” You straightened up and attempted to turn to hug him, but his arms stopped you, keeping your back to him. You watched his reflection intently; the way a rumble escaped his throat when he pulled the zipper of your dress down, the way he bit his lower lip as he pushed the garment off your shoulders, the way he purred as the material fell around your ankles, leaving you in your lacy bra and thong, and your trusted thigh high stockings.
“Kim Namjoon, poet and lyricist,” you shuddered as his large hands ghosted over your bare skin. “Fuck, that’s so hot, Joon.”
He smirked. “Yeah, I thought you’d like that. Was planning to celebrate with you tomorrow,” he paused to trail kisses from your shoulder to your neck. “didn’t want to tire you out tonight, but it looks like you’re ready for our own private party, aren’t you baby?” His hand slithered under your thong, and your eyes fluttered shut as he ran a single digit between your folds, enticing more wetness to seep out.
“Open your eyes, baby. Watch yourself while I finger you open.”
His thick, long finger pushed its way into your hole, his palm flushed against your throbbing sex, keeping you in place. You exhaled shakily, as you forced your eyes open, and your mind immediately short circuited at what you saw. His large hand bulged underneath your little thong, stretching the material as he finger fucked you.
“That’s it, baby,” another digit joined in, “keep watching, look at how much you enjoy my fingers.”
Eyes transfixed on your own reflection, you clenched harder around his pumping fingers. Your face was bare of makeup and pasty, eyes red from the party and the alcohol, but all your senses were lit up on fire and he continued to stroke it to burn hotter and brighter. You mewled when a third finger joined into your hole, and you gripped his wrist, half in protest, half in encouragement. You felt stretched, but not yet full.
Namjoon wrapped his free hand around your waist and pulled you up, his hard chest plastered against your back. “Breathe, baby, relax,” he soothed you, “you know I gotta stretch you out, your little pussy’s too tight for my cock.”
You whimpered at his words. For a poet, he had such a dirty mouth. And he knew how much you liked it.
“Can you take one more, hmm?” The hand on your middle traveled up to latch on your breast. “Or do you think you’re ready for me?”
You grinded on his crotch as a response, both mouth and cunt salivating at the hardness nestled on your back.
“You want it now, don’t you?” He pulled his fingers out and you panted, eyes still locked with his, although a lot more glazed with lust and unbridled desires. He tugged his towel loose, letting it fall to the floor. He moved his hand from your breast to the space between your shoulder blades, pushing your body down and forward. With your ass sticking out, he spanked the flesh a few times before pulling your thong roughly off you.
“Why do you even wear this pathetic thing,” he tutted, tossing your underwear to the floor. He then cupped your asscheeks to open you up, to have your pulsating center opened and exposed to his eyes. “New house rule, baby. You’re only allowed to wear these stockings here, nothing else. Gotta keep you ready for my cock at all times.”
He slapped his length on your sopping pussy a few times, eliciting cries out of your mouth. He truly could turn you into a sopping mess with such little effort. Desperate, you pushed yourself back at him, your eyes and body begging for him as your mind melted in horniness, unable to form any sentences to tell him what you wanted.
Namjoon understood immediately- he was tuned in to you like that, having learned how your body responded to his stimuli. He lined himself to your dripping entrance and started pushing in deeper and deeper.
You gave up trying to keep your eyes open. “Ah, daddy…”
“That’s right, baby,” he bottomed out. “Who’s your daddy?”
“You… you…”
He pulled out slowly then pushed himself back in even more excruciatingly slow. “What’s your daddy’s name?”
If I could be under your skin…
“Namjoon,” you breathed out, “Kim Namjoon. Oh!”
He slammed in, spearing you into delirium in one movement. “Fuck, baby,” he puffed, “wish you could see how hot you are right now. Shit. You got your phone in here?”
You tightened at what he was hinting at.
“You want that, baby? We should record ourselves, huh? You’d love this, your puffy lips around my cock, fuck!” His pace quickened. The slapping sounds of your skin and his grew deafening. “And these thigh highs? Fucking hell!”
He faltered once, and you knew he was losing the iron grip control he normally displayed during sex. You raised yourself up, grasping the back of his neck, anchoring yourself. In return, he wrapped you tighter to his chest, his large hands clutching your breasts, as if they were a lifeline for his sanity.
Closer than we’ve ever been…
Your eyes locked onto the bodies in the mirror, watching the pornographic scene. Molded to his body, he continued pounding you from behind, bouncing you on his cock. You slid a hand down to your clit, thrumming the bud frantically to chase your orgasm.
“Keep your eyes open, baby, watch us, watch us cum together.” His shaky voice was desperate, needy.
Wanna lock you up in my sight…
You kept on attacking your clit, feeling the heat rising and rising till it finally exploded, your eyes instinctively closing as your body froze in ecstasy, cunt clamping down on his cock. A growl penetrated your haze, he released his seed deep into you as his muscly arms nearly crushed your body.
But you ran away like fish…
Tears running down your face, you breathlessly clung to him, not willing to let him go just yet.
~~~
The kitchen was quiet except for the sounds of dishes clattering and your hissing at Namjoon to be careful.
“God knows where Seokjin bought all these from. Our combined salary isn't enough to cover any damages.” You passed another plate to your boyfriend, glaring at him as a warning to be more careful.
“It’s just a plate.” He took the plate and dried it with a dishtowel, before putting it ever so slowly on the counter. You rolled your eyes at his exaggeration.
“Yes, and again, that plate probably costs more than your precious art books. Why the hell does Seokjin not have a dishwasher in here?”
Namjoon scoffed, and continued taking the washed dishes from you to dry them. It was utterly domestic, you thought, especially since you and your boyfriend used the kitchen only to make coffee and the occasional ramyeon. Sharing living space with him was surprisingly easy, for you had your own corners of organized chaos- his tower of books by the sofa, your piles of documents by your side of the bed, his shoes taking half of the space by the entryway, your own thrown into a rack nearby. He had his own mess, you had yours; he left yours alone and you did not touch his. It was a perfect co-existence.
So doing something as simple as washing dishes- even in your boss’ kitchen- felt somewhat special. Namjoon seemed to feel the same; he was humming and throwing you little smiles, but it turned out he had something else in mind.
“Remember what you asked me a few days ago?”
“You have to be more specific. I asked a lot of things from you.”
He lowered his voice. “I’m referring to the threesome.”
You dropped the metal ladle you were rinsing into the sink, the clanging noise echoed loudly through the kitchen, and beyond. “Don’t break anything!” Seokjin shouted from the living room. You glared at your boyfriend. Namjoon held back a giggle, and you both stayed quiet until Seokjin and Jungkook’s laughter filled the apartment again.
“They’re busy gaming, they won’t hear us.” Namjoon took the ladle and dried it dutifully. You moved on to wash the chopsticks.
“If I remember correctly, you dismissed my question that night,” you shot him an accusatory look. “Why are you suddenly asking now?”
He took the rinsed chopsticks from you and wiped them down before half-throwing them onto the drying rack. You winced; your gentle giant had already forgotten the warning you gave him earlier.
“I’ve kind of been thinking about it.”
“Oh?” You reached for the silver spoons in the sink, scrubbing it to the rhythm of your increasing heartbeat.
“I’ve thought,” his voice went lower into a whisper, like the kind he used to whisper his dirty talk into your ear, “if we were to do it, it’d have to be with someone we’re both comfortable with, right?”
With your eyes still glued on the spoons, you nodded.
“So, I kind of went through the list of our mutual friends, for someone we might invite to our bed.”
You rinsed the spoons, the warm water from the tap only made you feel more feverish. Was this what domesticity was about? Talking about sexual fantasies and kinks while doing the most mundane household chore?
“And?” You stole a glance at your boyfriend.
“What do you think of Seokjin?”
Upon hearing the name, you paused and turned slowly to face your boyfriend. Was he serious? Was he really considering having your very handsome, very hot boss involved in a sexual act with the two of you?
“He’s handsome, and I think he’d be fun. But yeah, that’d put you in an awkward situation, right?” Namjoon murmured, taking your silence as a sign of disapproval. “I thought of Jungkook too, but he probably would get too competitive, and I’m not going to go head to head with someone who hates losing.”
You were flabbergasted. You did not expect your boyfriend to have this deep of an analysis to a question you had asked when drunk.
“Hoseok, maybe?” Your boyfriend continued, scratching his chin. You were losing your mind. Namjoon’s expression was serious, deep in thought, and he kept talking, getting the thoughts out of his brilliant brain to weigh all the pros and cons. It was so logical and systematic, the way he was picking out which of your friend’s cock he would allow you to have, as if he was deciding which bicycle to buy. “But it’s tricky because you used to date, right? What if during the threesome sparks flew again between you two and I got kicked out.”
“We did not date. We tried, and failed spectacularly.” You found your voice to protest. Hoseok would not be too bad of a choice. He was fun and adventurous, his physique was different from Namjoon’s, and you had to admit the two of them painted a very tantalizing picture in your mind. Moreover, your boyfriend and your best friend both had a very similar tendency to take charge. You liked the idea indeed.
“Nah, I’m not taking my chances. Are you done with those?” He pointed at the spoons in your hands. You had been rinsing them under the running water. He took them from you to wipe them down, before throwing them onto the drying rack. You winced again at the sound, and in your heightened state, a whiny gasp escaped.
The sound did not go unnoticed. A corner of his mouth went up as he wiped his hands dry. He then turned to you, taking your hands into his. He started wiping your fingers one by one. The air had shifted, tension coiling around you both.
“That leaves us with Yoongi,” you dared to say. Namjoon’s jaw clenched.
“Or the jazz singer,” dragon eyes bored into yours. “There must be a reason you introduced me to him.”
Heart pounding, you attempted to put on a coy smile, although inside you were panicking. It was hitting a little too close to a memory you did not want to resurrect. “He’s a good singer and I just thought you’d enjoy listening to his stuff.”
He bit his lower lip and your knees nearly buckled. It was not fair how easily your body reacted to him; you were like a Pavlovian bitch in heat. “He’s drop dead gorgeous too. You have a thing for musicians, don’t you?”
You knew he was baiting you so you had to judge if giving him a little more glimpse of your past would favor you or anger him. Instinctively, you wanted to provoke him a little; a jealous Namjoon was a dominant Namjoon, and you were addicted to that side of him.
“I have a thing,” you placed your hands on his chest, enjoying the hard muscles there, “for a poet who can make me swoon and drench my panties in a single stanza.”
The rumble in his chest signaled his contentment to your words. “And does this poet satisfy you?”
Your hands snaked around his neck. “In more ways than one,” you purred, stroking his ego further.
“Good,” he gripped your chin. He did not need to say more, you understood from the sharp gaze of his eyes and the pressure on your skin that the conversation was over. A mixture of disappointment and arousal brimmed over you in the form of a sigh, and he descended on your mouth. You resigned to his eager lips and tongue, and raised yourself on your toes to clutch onto him tighter, to show him- and yourself- that he was more than enough for you, that you needed no one else but him.
The kiss turned feverish quickly, and you fought the urge to climb and wrap your legs around him. He sensed your desperate need, his hands cupped your ass roughly but before he could lift you up, a voice interrupted your impromptu hot and heavy makeout session.
“Do not soil my kitchen, please.” Seokjin walked past you to get a new bottle of sikhye. Despite his warning words, his eyes ogled your ass covered in Namjoon’s large hands. “Go fuck like rabbits at your own place, not here.”
You bit back a squeal when Namjoon squeezed your ass cheek a little too harshly. You looked up at him and noticed his sharp jawline twitched once, then twice. A gush of arousal flooded your panties instantly, and you knew what lay ahead when you got back home.
~~~
“Um, I don’t think this is my table.”
You looked up from your book to find a towering figure of a man, dressed casually in a matching yellow sweatshirt and sweatpants, looking down at you with a confused expression on his face.
“This is the table Mrs. Shin has reserved, sir,” the restaurant hostess explained politely, though a little patronizing.
“Yet that is not my mother,” the man pointed at you.
“I was supposed to meet MY mother for lunch; this table is under her name, isn’t it?” You questioned the hostess, the same person who had led you to this very table just a few minutes earlier.
“Ah, yes, the table was reserved under two names,” she checked her slim tablet and read out the names, “for two people.”
You looked at the man, both of you sporting a bewildered yet determined look at the mix-up. You would not give up the table you were already at for this man and his mother, no matter how intimidating he looked in yellow. And tall. And big. And handsome.
The hostess interrupted your staredown. “My apologies, there is a recent note left on the reservation. Mrs Shin wrote that,” she looked at you, her customer service smile in full force, “her son and her friend’s daughter will be taking the table instead.”
“Huh?” The man looked even more lost. You fished out your phone to call and question your mother.
The hostess raised her eyebrows, her fake smile still intact. “This is your table, sir.”
“But, my mo-”
“She set you up. Your mothers set you up.”
Your thumb paused over the green call button. “What do you mean by that?”
“This is a blind date,” the woman sounded exasperated. “That man is your blind date. And she’s your blind date, sir.”
She pulled the chair across from you for the man, as if to emphasize her point, as well as a signal that her part in whatever plan your mother had cooked up was done. The man eyed you carefully; he still looked confused, you thought, but there was a splash of curiosity in his almond eyes.
You thanked the hostess, and shook your head as she bounded away, free at last.
“My mom did mention she met an old high school friend a couple of weeks ago,” the man sighed with a soft laugh. “I’m betting my life savings your mom mentioned something similar to you too?”
You nodded, your mother had indeed. “Yup. Now that she’s retired, she seems to be always up to no good.”
The man chuckled, and your eyes widened at the deep dimples appearing on his cheeks. “Well, so what now?”
Did his voice just go lower? “We can throw this back at them,” you leaned forward, and he mimicked your movement. You swallowed. He was very handsome indeed, but there was something else that made him very attractive… you couldn’t put a finger to it.
“What have you got in mind?”
Sex appeal. That was it. This man was oozing with sex appeal. “We could tell them we left the moment we found out their plan, but,” you licked your lips, “at least the sex was phenomenal.”
Cocking his head, he stared you down. You had done this before, with more formidable opponents, across a conference room or in a courtroom, but you had never felt this exposed; his eyes continued boring through yours, making your cheeks burn uncontrollably.
He shifted in his seat to lean in more, to get even closer to you, clasping his hands on the table. You glanced down- dear god, his hands were big, and you knew what they said about big hands.
“I like that plan, but you see, I have a little problem with that,” his voice was low and gravely, and you felt like you were running out of air to breathe. “I don’t lie to my mother. So the sex… it’d better be phenomenal.”
You bit your lower lip, preventing a moan from escaping. Fucking hell, where had this man been all your life?
“Deal.” You packed your things and stood up. He followed suit. The hostess looked at you quizzically as you left, and you did not hear what the man said to her to make her gasp audibly. The low rumble of laughter followed you out and into a taxi. After a quick discussion, it was surmised that his place was much closer, and you both stayed quiet during the short drive. You did not trust yourself to say anything, not even to ask for his name, for you were sure the only thing that would come out of your mouth was loud, appreciative hums over how long his legs were, how big his thighs looked under the sweatpants, how long his fingers were gripping his kneecap, and how HOT he felt sitting next to you. In short, you were a horny mess, and you did not need the taxi driver to witness the lack of impropriety you were willing to commit for the man next to you.
On arrival, he ushered you out and with his palm firm on the small of your back, he led you up to his door. He stepped in front of you to key in his code, it again hit you how BIG he was. You realized he was not much taller than Seokjin and Taehyung, but why was he so big?
The door opened with a beep and he stepped in, you hot on his heels. Right after you both removed your shoes, he turned to you, literally sandwiching you between the door and his wall of a chest.
“You sure about this?”
You looked up at him, at his dark dragon eyes, at his jaws clenching. “Yeah. Fuck yeah.”
He leaned down towards you and you raised yourself on your toes to meet him halfway. The kiss started soft, safe, the bravado from the restaurant seemed to dissipate, taken over by the curiosity of new touch, new taste, new sensation. You tilted your head to let him in more, for his tongue to slither in, to lick into your mouth, and when you moaned against his mouth, he lifted you up so effortlessly, giving relief to your calves.
You wrapped your legs around his waist (god, what a tree to climb this man was), and his large hands cupped your ass, keeping you secure in his hold. You felt him moving, and you opened your eyes when he broke the kiss to explore your neck. He was walking to his bedroom, you presumed, andyou saw flashes of leafy green and wood undertones in his apartment. Combined with the bright yellow color he had on, your mind wondered briefly who he really was.
He lay you down on his bed, his hands left your ass to hastily undress you- impatience kicking in, clothes strewn about to the floor, until you were lying under him, skin rubbing against skin as your mouths met again to swallow each other’s moans. His hand roamed to graze against your hard nipple, then down between your legs, an appreciative hum vibrated in his chest at the wetness found there.
His face appeared in your vision as he raised himself up on one elbow, looking down at you. His eyes widened a little when your face scrunched a little, a reaction to his thick finger finding his way deep into your hole. He shuffled to spread your legs with his, all the while still pinning you down with his large body, leaving you little room to move.
You gripped his biceps when a second finger went in, moaning helplessly at the intrusion. His eyes never left you- they were watching you like a hawk for every pleasure and displeasure, observing you carefully to know when and how far he could go.
A hitched breath from you lifted a corner of his mouth up, and he moved his fingers faster. You held on to him more tightly, your manicured nails digging into his skin, determined to leave their marks. You could hear how wet you were, his fingers juicing more and more liquid out of you, and then you felt it. A brush against that promising spot inside you that made you gasp and tighten, and you knew from the look in his eyes that he got you. Hook, line and sinker.
He shifted again, to spread your legs wider and to grip your hair, to ensure that you were looking at him and him only, his fingers not losing an ounce of momentum. He coaxed you higher and higher, and you held your eyes open as much as you could, not daring to break his eye contact.
“You’re getting close, aren’t you,” his low voice loud amidst the squelching sounds from down below, “I can feel it.”
You could not find the words to answer him, so your hands left his biceps for his shoulders, holding on to them for dear life.
“Come on baby, cum on my fingers, gotta get you as wet as possible for daddy’s big cock.”
That did it. You immediately careened into your climax, pussy clamping down yet his fingers still moved, even faster. You nearly cried when he pulled out so suddenly, leaving you so agonizingly empty, but a wet swipe of tongue made your back arched precariously high, and you lost control of what was happening when his mouth worked you to… prolong your orgasm? Or was this a back to back orgasm? Fuck, you did not care, you just wanted more and more and more.
You whimpered, your body oversensitized in the best of ways, and he finally left your quivering pussy. You felt him leave the bed altogether, and you wanted to protest, but no words came out other than wordless sounds begging him to come back. The bed dipped so you lifted your head, only to find him rolling a condom down his cock, and fuck, what a cock! If you thought Taehyung was big, this was another definition altogether.
He lined himself up and looked at you for a green light. You nodded, bracing yourself for what to come. He entered slowly- so painfully slow- and you understood he did not want to hurt you, but your cunt was aching so much, you just wanted him to split you open with his big dick and make you see stars for days. And so you did what you never, ever did with anyone else.
“Daddy,” you breathed out the honorific, “just fuck me hard please.”
His whole body froze. “You sure?”
“Yes. I’m so fucking horny,” you held his gaze and repeated your request, “ just fuck me hard as hard as you can. Please.”
You heard a growl- he growled, dear god!- before you felt the full girth and length of his cock ramming into you. You cried as he fucked you like you had asked him to, hard and fast, making his bed creak, the sound competing against the slapping of your skins and the wails from your mouth. He lifted your legs, resting them on his sweaty chest as he pounded you, then he slowed down when he felt you closing in to your climax. You sobbed in pure neediness, but he pulled out and flipped you over, and in one smooth motion, he was back inside again, fucking you into the mattress. His large hand was on your neck to hold you down, the other kneading and smacking your ass.
“No marks, no marks,” you panted in a moment of clarity. You let go enough to call him daddy, but not enough for him to leave marks on you.
He complied immediately, leaning down to pin your body as he continued to pound you. His hands searched for yours, to link his fingers with yours as his hips started to stutter.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned to your neck. You clenched. “Come with me, baby, come- fuck!”
The final climax took you out, you blinked away the post-orgasm haze as he removed himself from you, freeing you from his body weight. You could not move, except to gingerly turn your head to look at him, lying next to you on his back, his chest rising up and down.
“That was amazing.”
“Amazing is not phenomenal,” you managed to say, voice hoarse. Your throat was so parched. “You’d still be lying to your mom.”
He chuckled. “Give me five minutes. Then we can try again.”
“Sounds good,” you agreed. “I’m _______, by the way.”
“I’m Namjoon.” His arm reached over to shake your lifeless one. “Nice to meet you. Do you like poetry?”
You called your mother later that night, annoyed at first at her attempt to set you up, but ended up telling her you would be meeting Namjoon again, maybe for a museum date in a week or so. No, not this coming week, you were swamped with work (and a threesome appointment but she definitely did not need to know that) and yes, he was very nice, and yes, she picked a winner, and no, let us not be too hasty, you would like to take it slow, though in your mind you already knew you wanted to see him again, and again, to have him fuck the living daylights out of you with his golden dick. But of course, you said nothing of the sort to your mother.
~~~
TONIGHT
You look at your phone again. 11:58pm.
Namjoon said he would be back soon, and that was an hour ago. You aren’t worried, you know he’s at Yoongi’s studio. The two of them have gotten along like houses on fire, musically and otherwise, and you should feel happy, right? Your investment banker turned published poet boyfriend is now writing song lyrics with and for the hottest music producer in the country. That’s hot, that’s fucking sexy.
But still, you feel annoyed. You love that your friends get along with Namjoon, but lately it seems Namjoon prefers spending time with them more than with you. Granted you nearly killed his bonsai after he entrusted you to look after it during his family vacation in Japan. And that you complained non stop during a 15-minute bicycle ride along the river. And that you nag him over the mess he left in the bathroom. And that he dislikes how you kick him awake when he starts snoring.
And when petty bickering makes its way into full-blown arguments.
And when you face away from each other when you go to bed.
And when you keep refusing his invitation to spend the big holidays with his family. Which now includes Jungkook.
And when you evade any question about the future.
‘Let’s just see how we go’ is banned from your vocabulary, unless for the moments when you feel especially petty to pick a fight with him.
You sigh. You might as well go to sleep now; even if he comes home in the next five seconds, what are you going to do? The sex is still good, but you’re far from in the mood for it. You sigh again while making yourself comfortable under the blanket, willing yourself to fall asleep.
Only sleep continues to evade you. Too many thoughts are running through your head, and one in particular is shouting louder than the rest. You block it out. Shut up. Sleep.
And still, you lie awake. Till the door beeps, signaling your boyfriend returning home. You keep your body unmoving, eyes vacant, staring at the window, away from your bedroom door. You hear him come in, and there is a hint of alcohol in the air now. Your heart sinks. He wasn’t just working with Yoongi, he was also drinking with Yoongi. The realization gives an ominous feeling.
You hold your breath when the bed dips. So he decides to get in bed even without changing. Great. Then you feel his breath on your neck.
“Baby? You awake?”
An instinct to stay quiet and continue lying like a dead fish crosses your mind, but your heart aches, and you know tonight might just be the night.
You rollover to find yourself face to face with him. His hair is longer now, messy, ruffled no doubt by the winter winds outside because he forgot to wear his beanie again. You reach out to tuck an errand strand behind his ear. He smiles gently.
You continue staring at each other, so many words to be said yet none is said at all. It feels like he knows as well as you do, the chapter is ending and another is starting. You both have avoided this conversation far too long, stringing each other along with the amazing sex and soul shaking orgasms. You take a deep breath, and he does too. It is time.
“I think we should break up.”
A/N: dont hate me for the ending please 😅 I just can't see any other way for the series to end, esp after the Jimin chapter. Come shout at me if you're upset. Or you can reblog so more readers can see how much I hate happy endings ☺️ Thank you for reading!
Series Masterlist: Little Black Book
Summary: There are a few names in your Little Black Book, and these six hold a special place in your heart. Until Kim Namjoon entered your life, and you realised the endgame was near.
Pairing: Namjoon x female OC, a cameo by Seokjin, and Yoongi, some indirect cameo ofJungkook, Hoseok, Joon’s sister, Joon’s mom, OC mom… it’s a lot okay I know
Rating: Explicit. NO MINORS ALLOWED!
Genre: non idol au, strangers to lovers, established relationship
WC: 8.2k
Warning: swearing, explicit sex acts, oral (f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex (protected and unprotected), mirror sex, multiple orgasms, Joon's big dick and BDE, Joon's sexy body, talk of threesome, some jealousy, Joon is a little possessive, daddy Joon, some angst
A/N: FINALLY THE END IS HERE! Thank you to sexy YTC Run BTS Namjoon for giving me the inspiration and the drive to complete this chapter. Everything here is unbetaed, as I was just too eager to get it done and published, so sincere apologies in advance. Also, segments of the story are not chronological, so... sorry also if you get confused. But I like being ambiguous even if that confuses my readers. Sorry. Lastly, ENJOY!
Series Masterlist: Little Black Book
You walked back into the large hall, where your firm’s annual office party was being held. You felt a bit weird, you had never done anything this daring in public before. Well, not since Hoseok fucked you against a tree in a backyard during a house party years ago. But you could not deny your boyfriend’s request, not when the glint in his dragon eyes and the little smirk in his mouth (enough to produce that damned dimple on his cheek) promised you a delicious reward.
So here you were, coming back from a quick trip to the restroom, with your thong bunched up tightly in your fist.
And there he was in all his glory- black turtleneck that showed off his chest, slim-fit black pants that made his legs look even longer, and those fucking glasses that made him look so innocent but you knew, oh you knew, how naughty he could be.
Namjoon noticed you approaching so he opened his arm, and you slithered right to his side, sliding your thong into his pants back pocket. His dimples deepened at your movement, and anyone watching would think he was just smitten with you, but you were well aware of what lay beneath- the urge to give you the kind of pounding that would put you on cloud nine for days and days. You clenched yourself hard, hoping with all hopes that nothing was leaking out to betray your secret state of undress. God, you were such a horny mess.
“You both are so in love it’s making me sick.”
You turned to your boss, raising an eyebrow at his snide remark. “Jealous much?”
Seokjin snorted at your retort, but to your surprise, did not say anything back. Keeping his eyes on you, he downed his champagne, and you saw his ears getting redder, from alcohol perhaps, or really, jealousy? Namjoon chuckled into your hair, while his hand glided down from your waist to the small of your back, then lower still to the top of your ass. He let out a hum, no doubt pleased he no longer felt the outline of your thong under your skirt. His touch was intoxicating, but you still watched Seokjin like a hawk.
Min Yoongi, who was standing next to your boss, cleared his throat. “You know you don’t have to keep playing my album, right? I think it’s been looped three times now.”
Seokjin slapped his back playfully. “Ah, you are one of our biggest clients! We have to support you!” You saw Yoongi hiding a small smile behind his drink. How typical, he always liked fishing for compliments despite his nonchalant demeanor.
“We’re basically using your music to brag.” You snatched a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. “Why do you think our shareholders AND their kids are here?”
Seokjin clicked a finger gun at you. “She’s smart, this one, that’s why she’s my protege.” Seokjin motioned for another drink. You counted five from the start of the night, this would be his sixth. He was drinking too fast and too much; it was quite unlike him. “Do you know she’s the one who brought Yoongi in?” The question was directed at Namjoon and your boyfriend dully nodded. “Told me her friend was looking for a law firm to represent him. The whole office nearly lost it when agustd himself walked in. Some couldn’t believe they were looking at agustd in the flesh, some couldn’t believe YOU were actually friends with him!”
Seokjin’s signature laughter boomed in the hall, causing some people to turn to look at your little group. Namjoon and Yoongi laughed along politely, but you continued to feel uneasy over Seokjin’s behavior. “You know, you never told us how you two became friends,” he eyed you and Yoongi.
“Ah,” you paused, looking at the rapper. His face remained expressionless, yet you knew he was giving you the rein to control the story, especially with your boyfriend present.
“We actually met at a bar, and he thought I was… a prostitute.”
Seokjin nearly spat out his drink. Namjoon squeezed your waist a little too tightly. Yoongi suddenly found a very interesting spot on the floor.
“You know my old boss,” you reminded Seokjin, “he liked to take his clients to those kinds of places, and I always had to tag along to pay their bills and get taxis for everyone, all that shit.”
Seokjin scoffed. “Yeah, he was a creep. The best thing I did after moving here from New York was transfer you to my team.”
Namjoon squeezed your waist again, his fingers dug deeper into your flesh.
“So, yeah, that’s how I first met Yoongi. Told him I wasn’t what he thought I was, gave him my card instead.” Then he made you cum with his tongue in the bar’s restroom. Twice.
“After that night, we met up a few times when he needed help with some legal issues about plagiarism, libel, and stuff like that. ” And you sucked his dick in his studio. Sometimes he bent you over his recording equipment to eat you out too.
“I’m just glad he trusts me- us,” you corrected yourself quickly, “enough to represent him now.” You trusted him enough to make a sex tape with him. You still had a copy of it. As he did.
Yoongi nodded. “Wouldn’t have anyone else.”
Your boss stared at you pointedly. What was wrong with him? You felt like he knew something and was trying to pry it out of you here of all places. He knew you had a few fuck buddies, apart from himself, before Namjoon came into the picture, but you never shared names. Did Seokjin suspect you had been sleeping with Yoongi? Was he trying to get it out in the open to make Namjoon jealous? But why? There was nothing in it for him, unless he was just being petty, unless… could it be possible? That he was jealous over you going steady with Namjoon and thus depriving him off his weekly fuck session with you? He could not possibly be that childish… but then again, Seokjin could be unpredictable. Especially with six glasses of champagne in his system.
“All right,” your boss sighed and put his arms around Yoongi, “I think it’s time to show you off to our shareholders. Those lovebirds look like they have better things to do anyway. Right?” He winked then directed the music producer to another part of the hall.
Your brows furrowed, you were still nowhere near clarity over his odd behavior. You had no time to analyze that further however, for Namjoon’s hand started traveling down to cup your ass.
“Joon! People can see!” You smacked his chest.
“Let them see. I want everyone to know I own this ass.” He pulled you around till you were flushed to his front. You shivered when you felt he was already hard. “You wear this skirt to work everyday, baby?”
You hugged him back, arms tight around his waist. He smelled so good, so manly, you just could not get enough of him, especially with his erection poking at your abdomen. “Not everyday, just when I need to feel good and powerful.”
“Hmm, is that so? I think you just like it when your boss and clients ogle you.”
You stepped back to look at him, your cheeks burning uncontrollably. You definitely felt called out. “Who? Them?”
His face still looked friendly and amiable, but you sensed his energy had taken a more intense turn. “I’ve seen how they look at you, especially at this ass.” He squeezed again, much harder this time, making no effort to hide what he was doing. His touch burned through your skirt onto your skin, and you wish you could stop the flow of arousal leaking onto your inner thighs.
“Fuck, Joon,” you whimpered. “They’re not… I… shit, let’s just go home now.”
He chuckled. “Okay, baby. I’ll wipe you down in the taxi if you get too wet.” He patted his back pocket, where your thong was.
He wiped you down that night, all right. He made you cum over and over with his fingers so he could wipe your creamy cum off of his fingers with your thong, and once he was satisfied, he sucked on the soaked material till you begged him to fuck you. And like a good boyfriend he was, he gave you what you asked, and more, until you lay spent, unable to move, your body oversensitized but somehow your mind still ended up wondering what was going on with Seokjin.
~~~
Your chopsticks clattered noisily on the table, interrupting the conversation between Namjoon and his little sister in the busy restaurant.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, recovering quickly and gripping the chopsticks a little tighter. “Did you say you’re going on a date with Jungkook this Friday?”
Namjoon’s sister nodded. “Yeah, he asked me to go to the arcade with him. Which is a bit unusual,” she smiled shyly, her dimples prominent on her cheeks, “but I like that idea. It’ll be more fun and casual, right?” Your boyfriend nodded, humming in pleasure, from both food and his sister’s excitement.
“I didn’t know you know Jungkook.”
“Friday will be their first meeting, I set them up. She’s been complaining about all the shitty boys in her uni. Thought Jungkook would make a good match with her.”
Namjoon slurped his noodles. Namjoon’s sister was sweet and kind, and as smart as her big brother. But with Jungkook? You simply could not see it.
“Ah, I see,” you forced a smile. “I didn’t know you were setting them up.”
Namjoon glanced at you. “Oh, was I supposed to?”
“Well, it’d be nice to know before you planned all that. He’s my friend.”
“He’s my friend too.”
You poked at your dumpling a little too aggressively. “Well Namjoon, I’ve been friends with him longer than you have, so yes, you should’ve told me!”
“I didn’t think that mattered. I spend as much time with him as you do, if not more.”
“I introduced you to him, it mattered.” You muttered, fully aware how childish you were sounding.
He rolled his eyes. “You’re overreacting.”
Your boyfriend’s off-handed comment set you off, enough to push your food away before standing up. “I’m going to the restroom.” You grabbed your bag and coat, and instead of the toilet, you headed to the exit. You heard Namjoon curse, and his sister worriedly asking him if everything was all right.
Once you stepped out, cold air immediately assaulted your senses, giving you a sudden clarity, and with it, came guilt. You could not understand why you reacted the way you did. No, you had to stop lying to yourself- you knew exactly why. Jungkook asked you out to an arcade a long time ago, and why you turned him down. You simply hated the fact that someone else actually said yes, even when that someone was your own boyfriend’s sweet little sister.
You sighed when you felt a rush of warm air from the restaurant’s door behind you, signaling that Namjoon had come out to see you. He was right, you overreacted, but damned if you were going to apologize. You stood by your opinion, however rashed and illogical, that you should have been involved in the plan from the beginning.
“What the hell was that?” Namjoon finally asked when the silence stretched a little too long.
You took a deep breath; you were a little calmer, but you still tried to answer him carefully. “Jungkook is my friend. One of my closest friends. I’m just upset you set him up with your sister without talking about it with me first.”
Your boyfriend tilted his head, observing you. “I honestly didn’t think it would upset you this much. Actually, I thought you’d be happy for both of them.”
“I’m protective of him, okay?” You snapped. “He’s been through so much shit with people he thought he could trust, so I just wanted to make-”
“And you think my sister isn’t trustworthy enough?” Namjoon cut you off, the ice in his voice biting.
“I didn’t say that.”
“But it’s implied, very clearly.”
You refused to give him any response, not when you could not even comprehend the jumbled emotions you were feeling. You folded your arms defiantly and faced away from your boyfriend.
“What’s Jungkook to you, really?”
Your heart dropped to your stomach. You kept your back to Namjoon. “A friend.”
“Just a friend?”
“A client, who became a really good friend. Okay?”
Namjoon’s eyes were boring through your back. “I told you, I don’t like being lied to.” Despite his level and calm voice, you still felt the anger brimming underneath.
“And I told you, Jungkook was a client, who became a really good friend.” You finally turned to look at your boyfriend, your eyes set on his, staring back at him sternly. However his lack of response continued to feed the uneasiness in you. Your heart beat faster, every logical instinct in you screamed for you to look away, but you could not. You had to stare him down for him to believe your words.
“Okay,” he reached out to cup your cheek. Despite the gentle gesture, you still held your breath. “Let’s go back inside, she’s worried.”
Embarrassment filled you, and your flight instinct kicked in. “You go,Joon. Finish your dinner with your sister. I’ll call her later to apologize.”
“Where are you going?”
“Home.” You turned away, avoiding your boyfriend’s questioning look. You flagged down a taxi “Are you coming back to my place?”
His jaws clenched, he was clearly unhappy but he still opened the taxi door for you, ever the gentleman. “I’m not going to yours tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
The finality in his tone was followed by a slam of the door. You watched him go back into the restaurant, long strides leading him away from you without even a glance back. You exhaled shakily, angry and disappointed at yourself. You decided you did not want to be alone, you did not want to go home if he was not going to be there later. So you gave the taxi driver Hoseok’s address, instead of yours.
~~~
You came home to Namjoon’s place earlier than planned, to the sound of the shower running. Namjoon must have just gotten home too, you thought, and you plopped down on his bed, debating whether to join him or wait for him to finish.
Before you could make a decision, you noticed his notebook- the one where he wrote down all his musings and short poems- open on his side of the bed. You never looked through the book, only reading what he wanted to show you. Curiosity got the better of you, though, so you took a peek.
If I could be under your skin
Closer than we’ve ever been
Wanna lock you up in my sight
But you run away like fish
You stared at his scribbles. Were these lines about you? Was that how he felt about you? Your chest thumped, your mind reeled back to the conversation you had with Hoseok earlier that night.
“Marriage and kids, Hoseok, that’s what he wants.”
“Then tell him that’s not what you want.”
“What if I lose him?”
“Then you lose him. Isn’t it better than living in a lie? Pretending to want something you actually don’t?”
Your heart constricted. Did Namjoon know, was that the reason he wrote these down?
“I know it’s hard, babe. I can see how Namjoon makes you happy, but his golden dick aside, you’re not built for the long run. You and I are the same, we’re too selfish, we’re better off on our own.”
Was that true what Hoseok said? You had been free, yes, before Namjoon, doing things on your own terms and satisfying your urges on your own schedule. But being with Namjoon was good too. He was kind, he challenged you intellectually, he gave you attention the way none of your previous fuck buddies ever did once sex was over. That was not a bad thing, was it? And you knew you gave a lot to Namjoon too. The museums, the parks, the poetry reading and discussion- you gave him your time for all that. Were you supposed to give more?
You nearly jumped out of your skin when the bathroom door opened. You immediately move to stand up, away from the notebook, pretending you just got home then instead of a few minutes earlier.
“You’re home,” your boyfriend greeted you in surprise. “Thought you’d party longer with Hoseok tonight.”
You stared wide eyed at Namjoon- bare chest, towel slung low on his hips. He ruffled his wet hair with his hands, biceps flexing naturally.
“Can’t keep up with his energy anymore, besides why would I waste my time there when this is waiting for me at home?” You made your way to the bathroom, brushing your hand across his abs as you walked past him. You surprised yourself at how calm you sounded.
He followed you, chuckling at your teasing. He leaned on the bathroom door as you started removing your makeup at the sink. You raised an eyebrow at him. “Aren’t you going to put any clothes on?”
He shook his head. “Nah. Am I distracting you?”
“You’re going to catch a cold.” You scolded, but he just folded his arms across his broad chest. “How was your night with Yoongi?”
“It was good, he’s turning me into a whiskey drinker.” He moved to stand behind you, you could see from his reflection how his eyes were roaming up and down your body. The reaction in you was instantaneous. You pressed your legs together to dam the growing arousal. “He invited me to write some lyrics with him.”
“Really? Joon! That’s amazing!” You straightened up and attempted to turn to hug him, but his arms stopped you, keeping your back to him. You watched his reflection intently; the way a rumble escaped his throat when he pulled the zipper of your dress down, the way he bit his lower lip as he pushed the garment off your shoulders, the way he purred as the material fell around your ankles, leaving you in your lacy bra and thong, and your trusted thigh high stockings.
“Kim Namjoon, poet and lyricist,” you shuddered as his large hands ghosted over your bare skin. “Fuck, that’s so hot, Joon.”
He smirked. “Yeah, I thought you’d like that. Was planning to celebrate with you tomorrow,” he paused to trail kisses from your shoulder to your neck. “didn’t want to tire you out tonight, but it looks like you’re ready for our own private party, aren’t you baby?” His hand slithered under your thong, and your eyes fluttered shut as he ran a single digit between your folds, enticing more wetness to seep out.
“Open your eyes, baby. Watch yourself while I finger you open.”
His thick, long finger pushed its way into your hole, his palm flushed against your throbbing sex, keeping you in place. You exhaled shakily, as you forced your eyes open, and your mind immediately short circuited at what you saw. His large hand bulged underneath your little thong, stretching the material as he finger fucked you.
“That’s it, baby,” another digit joined in, “keep watching, look at how much you enjoy my fingers.”
Eyes transfixed on your own reflection, you clenched harder around his pumping fingers. Your face was bare of makeup and pasty, eyes red from the party and the alcohol, but all your senses were lit up on fire and he continued to stroke it to burn hotter and brighter. You mewled when a third finger joined into your hole, and you gripped his wrist, half in protest, half in encouragement. You felt stretched, but not yet full.
Namjoon wrapped his free hand around your waist and pulled you up, his hard chest plastered against your back. “Breathe, baby, relax,” he soothed you, “you know I gotta stretch you out, your little pussy’s too tight for my cock.”
You whimpered at his words. For a poet, he had such a dirty mouth. And he knew how much you liked it.
“Can you take one more, hmm?” The hand on your middle traveled up to latch on your breast. “Or do you think you’re ready for me?”
You grinded on his crotch as a response, both mouth and cunt salivating at the hardness nestled on your back.
“You want it now, don’t you?” He pulled his fingers out and you panted, eyes still locked with his, although a lot more glazed with lust and unbridled desires. He tugged his towel loose, letting it fall to the floor. He moved his hand from your breast to the space between your shoulder blades, pushing your body down and forward. With your ass sticking out, he spanked the flesh a few times before pulling your thong roughly off you.
“Why do you even wear this pathetic thing,” he tutted, tossing your underwear to the floor. He then cupped your asscheeks to open you up, to have your pulsating center opened and exposed to his eyes. “New house rule, baby. You’re only allowed to wear these stockings here, nothing else. Gotta keep you ready for my cock at all times.”
He slapped his length on your sopping pussy a few times, eliciting cries out of your mouth. He truly could turn you into a sopping mess with such little effort. Desperate, you pushed yourself back at him, your eyes and body begging for him as your mind melted in horniness, unable to form any sentences to tell him what you wanted.
Namjoon understood immediately- he was tuned in to you like that, having learned how your body responded to his stimuli. He lined himself to your dripping entrance and started pushing in deeper and deeper.
You gave up trying to keep your eyes open. “Ah, daddy…”
“That’s right, baby,” he bottomed out. “Who’s your daddy?”
“You… you…”
He pulled out slowly then pushed himself back in even more excruciatingly slow. “What’s your daddy’s name?”
If I could be under your skin…
“Namjoon,” you breathed out, “Kim Namjoon. Oh!”
He slammed in, spearing you into delirium in one movement. “Fuck, baby,” he puffed, “wish you could see how hot you are right now. Shit. You got your phone in here?”
You tightened at what he was hinting at.
“You want that, baby? We should record ourselves, huh? You’d love this, your puffy lips around my cock, fuck!” His pace quickened. The slapping sounds of your skin and his grew deafening. “And these thigh highs? Fucking hell!”
He faltered once, and you knew he was losing the iron grip control he normally displayed during sex. You raised yourself up, grasping the back of his neck, anchoring yourself. In return, he wrapped you tighter to his chest, his large hands clutching your breasts, as if they were a lifeline for his sanity.
Closer than we’ve ever been…
Your eyes locked onto the bodies in the mirror, watching the pornographic scene. Molded to his body, he continued pounding you from behind, bouncing you on his cock. You slid a hand down to your clit, thrumming the bud frantically to chase your orgasm.
“Keep your eyes open, baby, watch us, watch us cum together.” His shaky voice was desperate, needy.
Wanna lock you up in my sight…
You kept on attacking your clit, feeling the heat rising and rising till it finally exploded, your eyes instinctively closing as your body froze in ecstasy, cunt clamping down on his cock. A growl penetrated your haze, he released his seed deep into you as his muscly arms nearly crushed your body.
But you ran away like fish…
Tears running down your face, you breathlessly clung to him, not willing to let him go just yet.
~~~
The kitchen was quiet except for the sounds of dishes clattering and your hissing at Namjoon to be careful.
“God knows where Seokjin bought all these from. Our combined salary isn't enough to cover any damages.” You passed another plate to your boyfriend, glaring at him as a warning to be more careful.
“It’s just a plate.” He took the plate and dried it with a dishtowel, before putting it ever so slowly on the counter. You rolled your eyes at his exaggeration.
“Yes, and again, that plate probably costs more than your precious art books. Why the hell does Seokjin not have a dishwasher in here?”
Namjoon scoffed, and continued taking the washed dishes from you to dry them. It was utterly domestic, you thought, especially since you and your boyfriend used the kitchen only to make coffee and the occasional ramyeon. Sharing living space with him was surprisingly easy, for you had your own corners of organized chaos- his tower of books by the sofa, your piles of documents by your side of the bed, his shoes taking half of the space by the entryway, your own thrown into a rack nearby. He had his own mess, you had yours; he left yours alone and you did not touch his. It was a perfect co-existence.
So doing something as simple as washing dishes- even in your boss’ kitchen- felt somewhat special. Namjoon seemed to feel the same; he was humming and throwing you little smiles, but it turned out he had something else in mind.
“Remember what you asked me a few days ago?”
“You have to be more specific. I asked a lot of things from you.”
He lowered his voice. “I’m referring to the threesome.”
You dropped the metal ladle you were rinsing into the sink, the clanging noise echoed loudly through the kitchen, and beyond. “Don’t break anything!” Seokjin shouted from the living room. You glared at your boyfriend. Namjoon held back a giggle, and you both stayed quiet until Seokjin and Jungkook’s laughter filled the apartment again.
“They’re busy gaming, they won’t hear us.” Namjoon took the ladle and dried it dutifully. You moved on to wash the chopsticks.
“If I remember correctly, you dismissed my question that night,” you shot him an accusatory look. “Why are you suddenly asking now?”
He took the rinsed chopsticks from you and wiped them down before half-throwing them onto the drying rack. You winced; your gentle giant had already forgotten the warning you gave him earlier.
“I’ve kind of been thinking about it.”
“Oh?” You reached for the silver spoons in the sink, scrubbing it to the rhythm of your increasing heartbeat.
“I’ve thought,” his voice went lower into a whisper, like the kind he used to whisper his dirty talk into your ear, “if we were to do it, it’d have to be with someone we’re both comfortable with, right?”
With your eyes still glued on the spoons, you nodded.
“So, I kind of went through the list of our mutual friends, for someone we might invite to our bed.”
You rinsed the spoons, the warm water from the tap only made you feel more feverish. Was this what domesticity was about? Talking about sexual fantasies and kinks while doing the most mundane household chore?
“And?” You stole a glance at your boyfriend.
“What do you think of Seokjin?”
Upon hearing the name, you paused and turned slowly to face your boyfriend. Was he serious? Was he really considering having your very handsome, very hot boss involved in a sexual act with the two of you?
“He’s handsome, and I think he’d be fun. But yeah, that’d put you in an awkward situation, right?” Namjoon murmured, taking your silence as a sign of disapproval. “I thought of Jungkook too, but he probably would get too competitive, and I’m not going to go head to head with someone who hates losing.”
You were flabbergasted. You did not expect your boyfriend to have this deep of an analysis to a question you had asked when drunk.
“Hoseok, maybe?” Your boyfriend continued, scratching his chin. You were losing your mind. Namjoon’s expression was serious, deep in thought, and he kept talking, getting the thoughts out of his brilliant brain to weigh all the pros and cons. It was so logical and systematic, the way he was picking out which of your friend’s cock he would allow you to have, as if he was deciding which bicycle to buy. “But it’s tricky because you used to date, right? What if during the threesome sparks flew again between you two and I got kicked out.”
“We did not date. We tried, and failed spectacularly.” You found your voice to protest. Hoseok would not be too bad of a choice. He was fun and adventurous, his physique was different from Namjoon’s, and you had to admit the two of them painted a very tantalizing picture in your mind. Moreover, your boyfriend and your best friend both had a very similar tendency to take charge. You liked the idea indeed.
“Nah, I’m not taking my chances. Are you done with those?” He pointed at the spoons in your hands. You had been rinsing them under the running water. He took them from you to wipe them down, before throwing them onto the drying rack. You winced again at the sound, and in your heightened state, a whiny gasp escaped.
The sound did not go unnoticed. A corner of his mouth went up as he wiped his hands dry. He then turned to you, taking your hands into his. He started wiping your fingers one by one. The air had shifted, tension coiling around you both.
“That leaves us with Yoongi,” you dared to say. Namjoon’s jaw clenched.
“Or the jazz singer,” dragon eyes bored into yours. “There must be a reason you introduced me to him.”
Heart pounding, you attempted to put on a coy smile, although inside you were panicking. It was hitting a little too close to a memory you did not want to resurrect. “He’s a good singer and I just thought you’d enjoy listening to his stuff.”
He bit his lower lip and your knees nearly buckled. It was not fair how easily your body reacted to him; you were like a Pavlovian bitch in heat. “He’s drop dead gorgeous too. You have a thing for musicians, don’t you?”
You knew he was baiting you so you had to judge if giving him a little more glimpse of your past would favor you or anger him. Instinctively, you wanted to provoke him a little; a jealous Namjoon was a dominant Namjoon, and you were addicted to that side of him.
“I have a thing,” you placed your hands on his chest, enjoying the hard muscles there, “for a poet who can make me swoon and drench my panties in a single stanza.”
The rumble in his chest signaled his contentment to your words. “And does this poet satisfy you?”
Your hands snaked around his neck. “In more ways than one,” you purred, stroking his ego further.
“Good,” he gripped your chin. He did not need to say more, you understood from the sharp gaze of his eyes and the pressure on your skin that the conversation was over. A mixture of disappointment and arousal brimmed over you in the form of a sigh, and he descended on your mouth. You resigned to his eager lips and tongue, and raised yourself on your toes to clutch onto him tighter, to show him- and yourself- that he was more than enough for you, that you needed no one else but him.
The kiss turned feverish quickly, and you fought the urge to climb and wrap your legs around him. He sensed your desperate need, his hands cupped your ass roughly but before he could lift you up, a voice interrupted your impromptu hot and heavy makeout session.
“Do not soil my kitchen, please.” Seokjin walked past you to get a new bottle of sikhye. Despite his warning words, his eyes ogled your ass covered in Namjoon’s large hands. “Go fuck like rabbits at your own place, not here.”
You bit back a squeal when Namjoon squeezed your ass cheek a little too harshly. You looked up at him and noticed his sharp jawline twitched once, then twice. A gush of arousal flooded your panties instantly, and you knew what lay ahead when you got back home.
~~~
“Um, I don’t think this is my table.”
You looked up from your book to find a towering figure of a man, dressed casually in a matching yellow sweatshirt and sweatpants, looking down at you with a confused expression on his face.
“This is the table Mrs. Shin has reserved, sir,” the restaurant hostess explained politely, though a little patronizing.
“Yet that is not my mother,” the man pointed at you.
“I was supposed to meet MY mother for lunch; this table is under her name, isn’t it?” You questioned the hostess, the same person who had led you to this very table just a few minutes earlier.
“Ah, yes, the table was reserved under two names,” she checked her slim tablet and read out the names, “for two people.”
You looked at the man, both of you sporting a bewildered yet determined look at the mix-up. You would not give up the table you were already at for this man and his mother, no matter how intimidating he looked in yellow. And tall. And big. And handsome.
The hostess interrupted your staredown. “My apologies, there is a recent note left on the reservation. Mrs Shin wrote that,” she looked at you, her customer service smile in full force, “her son and her friend’s daughter will be taking the table instead.”
“Huh?” The man looked even more lost. You fished out your phone to call and question your mother.
The hostess raised her eyebrows, her fake smile still intact. “This is your table, sir.”
“But, my mo-”
“She set you up. Your mothers set you up.”
Your thumb paused over the green call button. “What do you mean by that?”
“This is a blind date,” the woman sounded exasperated. “That man is your blind date. And she’s your blind date, sir.”
She pulled the chair across from you for the man, as if to emphasize her point, as well as a signal that her part in whatever plan your mother had cooked up was done. The man eyed you carefully; he still looked confused, you thought, but there was a splash of curiosity in his almond eyes.
You thanked the hostess, and shook your head as she bounded away, free at last.
“My mom did mention she met an old high school friend a couple of weeks ago,” the man sighed with a soft laugh. “I’m betting my life savings your mom mentioned something similar to you too?”
You nodded, your mother had indeed. “Yup. Now that she’s retired, she seems to be always up to no good.”
The man chuckled, and your eyes widened at the deep dimples appearing on his cheeks. “Well, so what now?”
Did his voice just go lower? “We can throw this back at them,” you leaned forward, and he mimicked your movement. You swallowed. He was very handsome indeed, but there was something else that made him very attractive… you couldn’t put a finger to it.
“What have you got in mind?”
Sex appeal. That was it. This man was oozing with sex appeal. “We could tell them we left the moment we found out their plan, but,” you licked your lips, “at least the sex was phenomenal.”
Cocking his head, he stared you down. You had done this before, with more formidable opponents, across a conference room or in a courtroom, but you had never felt this exposed; his eyes continued boring through yours, making your cheeks burn uncontrollably.
He shifted in his seat to lean in more, to get even closer to you, clasping his hands on the table. You glanced down- dear god, his hands were big, and you knew what they said about big hands.
“I like that plan, but you see, I have a little problem with that,” his voice was low and gravely, and you felt like you were running out of air to breathe. “I don’t lie to my mother. So the sex… it’d better be phenomenal.”
You bit your lower lip, preventing a moan from escaping. Fucking hell, where had this man been all your life?
“Deal.” You packed your things and stood up. He followed suit. The hostess looked at you quizzically as you left, and you did not hear what the man said to her to make her gasp audibly. The low rumble of laughter followed you out and into a taxi. After a quick discussion, it was surmised that his place was much closer, and you both stayed quiet during the short drive. You did not trust yourself to say anything, not even to ask for his name, for you were sure the only thing that would come out of your mouth was loud, appreciative hums over how long his legs were, how big his thighs looked under the sweatpants, how long his fingers were gripping his kneecap, and how HOT he felt sitting next to you. In short, you were a horny mess, and you did not need the taxi driver to witness the lack of impropriety you were willing to commit for the man next to you.
On arrival, he ushered you out and with his palm firm on the small of your back, he led you up to his door. He stepped in front of you to key in his code, it again hit you how BIG he was. You realized he was not much taller than Seokjin and Taehyung, but why was he so big?
The door opened with a beep and he stepped in, you hot on his heels. Right after you both removed your shoes, he turned to you, literally sandwiching you between the door and his wall of a chest.
“You sure about this?”
You looked up at him, at his dark dragon eyes, at his jaws clenching. “Yeah. Fuck yeah.”
He leaned down towards you and you raised yourself on your toes to meet him halfway. The kiss started soft, safe, the bravado from the restaurant seemed to dissipate, taken over by the curiosity of new touch, new taste, new sensation. You tilted your head to let him in more, for his tongue to slither in, to lick into your mouth, and when you moaned against his mouth, he lifted you up so effortlessly, giving relief to your calves.
You wrapped your legs around his waist (god, what a tree to climb this man was), and his large hands cupped your ass, keeping you secure in his hold. You felt him moving, and you opened your eyes when he broke the kiss to explore your neck. He was walking to his bedroom, you presumed, andyou saw flashes of leafy green and wood undertones in his apartment. Combined with the bright yellow color he had on, your mind wondered briefly who he really was.
He lay you down on his bed, his hands left your ass to hastily undress you- impatience kicking in, clothes strewn about to the floor, until you were lying under him, skin rubbing against skin as your mouths met again to swallow each other’s moans. His hand roamed to graze against your hard nipple, then down between your legs, an appreciative hum vibrated in his chest at the wetness found there.
His face appeared in your vision as he raised himself up on one elbow, looking down at you. His eyes widened a little when your face scrunched a little, a reaction to his thick finger finding his way deep into your hole. He shuffled to spread your legs with his, all the while still pinning you down with his large body, leaving you little room to move.
You gripped his biceps when a second finger went in, moaning helplessly at the intrusion. His eyes never left you- they were watching you like a hawk for every pleasure and displeasure, observing you carefully to know when and how far he could go.
A hitched breath from you lifted a corner of his mouth up, and he moved his fingers faster. You held on to him more tightly, your manicured nails digging into his skin, determined to leave their marks. You could hear how wet you were, his fingers juicing more and more liquid out of you, and then you felt it. A brush against that promising spot inside you that made you gasp and tighten, and you knew from the look in his eyes that he got you. Hook, line and sinker.
He shifted again, to spread your legs wider and to grip your hair, to ensure that you were looking at him and him only, his fingers not losing an ounce of momentum. He coaxed you higher and higher, and you held your eyes open as much as you could, not daring to break his eye contact.
“You’re getting close, aren’t you,” his low voice loud amidst the squelching sounds from down below, “I can feel it.”
You could not find the words to answer him, so your hands left his biceps for his shoulders, holding on to them for dear life.
“Come on baby, cum on my fingers, gotta get you as wet as possible for daddy’s big cock.”
That did it. You immediately careened into your climax, pussy clamping down yet his fingers still moved, even faster. You nearly cried when he pulled out so suddenly, leaving you so agonizingly empty, but a wet swipe of tongue made your back arched precariously high, and you lost control of what was happening when his mouth worked you to… prolong your orgasm? Or was this a back to back orgasm? Fuck, you did not care, you just wanted more and more and more.
You whimpered, your body oversensitized in the best of ways, and he finally left your quivering pussy. You felt him leave the bed altogether, and you wanted to protest, but no words came out other than wordless sounds begging him to come back. The bed dipped so you lifted your head, only to find him rolling a condom down his cock, and fuck, what a cock! If you thought Taehyung was big, this was another definition altogether.
He lined himself up and looked at you for a green light. You nodded, bracing yourself for what to come. He entered slowly- so painfully slow- and you understood he did not want to hurt you, but your cunt was aching so much, you just wanted him to split you open with his big dick and make you see stars for days. And so you did what you never, ever did with anyone else.
“Daddy,” you breathed out the honorific, “just fuck me hard please.”
His whole body froze. “You sure?”
“Yes. I’m so fucking horny,” you held his gaze and repeated your request, “ just fuck me hard as hard as you can. Please.”
You heard a growl- he growled, dear god!- before you felt the full girth and length of his cock ramming into you. You cried as he fucked you like you had asked him to, hard and fast, making his bed creak, the sound competing against the slapping of your skins and the wails from your mouth. He lifted your legs, resting them on his sweaty chest as he pounded you, then he slowed down when he felt you closing in to your climax. You sobbed in pure neediness, but he pulled out and flipped you over, and in one smooth motion, he was back inside again, fucking you into the mattress. His large hand was on your neck to hold you down, the other kneading and smacking your ass.
“No marks, no marks,” you panted in a moment of clarity. You let go enough to call him daddy, but not enough for him to leave marks on you.
He complied immediately, leaning down to pin your body as he continued to pound you. His hands searched for yours, to link his fingers with yours as his hips started to stutter.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned to your neck. You clenched. “Come with me, baby, come- fuck!”
The final climax took you out, you blinked away the post-orgasm haze as he removed himself from you, freeing you from his body weight. You could not move, except to gingerly turn your head to look at him, lying next to you on his back, his chest rising up and down.
“That was amazing.”
“Amazing is not phenomenal,” you managed to say, voice hoarse. Your throat was so parched. “You’d still be lying to your mom.”
He chuckled. “Give me five minutes. Then we can try again.”
“Sounds good,” you agreed. “I’m _______, by the way.”
“I’m Namjoon.” His arm reached over to shake your lifeless one. “Nice to meet you. Do you like poetry?”
You called your mother later that night, annoyed at first at her attempt to set you up, but ended up telling her you would be meeting Namjoon again, maybe for a museum date in a week or so. No, not this coming week, you were swamped with work (and a threesome appointment but she definitely did not need to know that) and yes, he was very nice, and yes, she picked a winner, and no, let us not be too hasty, you would like to take it slow, though in your mind you already knew you wanted to see him again, and again, to have him fuck the living daylights out of you with his golden dick. But of course, you said nothing of the sort to your mother.
~~~
TONIGHT
You look at your phone again. 11:58pm.
Namjoon said he would be back soon, and that was an hour ago. You aren’t worried, you know he’s at Yoongi’s studio. The two of them have gotten along like houses on fire, musically and otherwise, and you should feel happy, right? Your investment banker turned published poet boyfriend is now writing song lyrics with and for the hottest music producer in the country. That’s hot, that’s fucking sexy.
But still, you feel annoyed. You love that your friends get along with Namjoon, but lately it seems Namjoon prefers spending time with them more than with you. Granted you nearly killed his bonsai after he entrusted you to look after it during his family vacation in Japan. And that you complained non stop during a 15-minute bicycle ride along the river. And that you nag him over the mess he left in the bathroom. And that he dislikes how you kick him awake when he starts snoring.
And when petty bickering makes its way into full-blown arguments.
And when you face away from each other when you go to bed.
And when you keep refusing his invitation to spend the big holidays with his family. Which now includes Jungkook.
And when you evade any question about the future.
‘Let’s just see how we go’ is banned from your vocabulary, unless for the moments when you feel especially petty to pick a fight with him.
You sigh. You might as well go to sleep now; even if he comes home in the next five seconds, what are you going to do? The sex is still good, but you’re far from in the mood for it. You sigh again while making yourself comfortable under the blanket, willing yourself to fall asleep.
Only sleep continues to evade you. Too many thoughts are running through your head, and one in particular is shouting louder than the rest. You block it out. Shut up. Sleep.
And still, you lie awake. Till the door beeps, signaling your boyfriend returning home. You keep your body unmoving, eyes vacant, staring at the window, away from your bedroom door. You hear him come in, and there is a hint of alcohol in the air now. Your heart sinks. He wasn’t just working with Yoongi, he was also drinking with Yoongi. The realization gives an ominous feeling.
You hold your breath when the bed dips. So he decides to get in bed even without changing. Great. Then you feel his breath on your neck.
“Baby? You awake?”
An instinct to stay quiet and continue lying like a dead fish crosses your mind, but your heart aches, and you know tonight might just be the night.
You rollover to find yourself face to face with him. His hair is longer now, messy, ruffled no doubt by the winter winds outside because he forgot to wear his beanie again. You reach out to tuck an errand strand behind his ear. He smiles gently.
You continue staring at each other, so many words to be said yet none is said at all. It feels like he knows as well as you do, the chapter is ending and another is starting. You both have avoided this conversation far too long, stringing each other along with the amazing sex and soul shaking orgasms. You take a deep breath, and he does too. It is time.
“I think we should break up.”
A/N: dont hate me for the ending please 😅 I just can't see any other way for the series to end, esp after the Jimin chapter. Come shout at me if you're upset. Or you can reblog so more readers can see how much I hate happy endings ☺️ Thank you for reading!
Series Masterlist: Little Black Book
Summary: There are a few names in your Little Black Book, and these six hold a special place in your heart. Until Kim Namjoon entered your life, and you realised the endgame was near.
Pairing: Namjoon x female OC, a cameo by Seokjin, and Yoongi, some indirect cameo ofJungkook, Hoseok, Joon’s sister, Joon’s mom, OC mom… it’s a lot okay I know
Rating: Explicit. NO MINORS ALLOWED!
Genre: non idol au, strangers to lovers, established relationship
WC: 8.2k
Warning: swearing, explicit sex acts, oral (f receiving), fingering, penetrative sex (protected and unprotected), mirror sex, multiple orgasms, Joon's big dick and BDE, Joon's sexy body, talk of threesome, some jealousy, Joon is a little possessive, daddy Joon, some angst
A/N: FINALLY THE END IS HERE! Thank you to sexy YTC Run BTS Namjoon for giving me the inspiration and the drive to complete this chapter. Everything here is unbetaed, as I was just too eager to get it done and published, so sincere apologies in advance. Also, segments of the story are not chronological, so... sorry also if you get confused. But I like being ambiguous even if that confuses my readers. Sorry. Lastly, ENJOY!
Series Masterlist: Little Black Book
You walked back into the large hall, where your firm’s annual office party was being held. You felt a bit weird, you had never done anything this daring in public before. Well, not since Hoseok fucked you against a tree in a backyard during a house party years ago. But you could not deny your boyfriend’s request, not when the glint in his dragon eyes and the little smirk in his mouth (enough to produce that damned dimple on his cheek) promised you a delicious reward.
So here you were, coming back from a quick trip to the restroom, with your thong bunched up tightly in your fist.
And there he was in all his glory- black turtleneck that showed off his chest, slim-fit black pants that made his legs look even longer, and those fucking glasses that made him look so innocent but you knew, oh you knew, how naughty he could be.
Namjoon noticed you approaching so he opened his arm, and you slithered right to his side, sliding your thong into his pants back pocket. His dimples deepened at your movement, and anyone watching would think he was just smitten with you, but you were well aware of what lay beneath- the urge to give you the kind of pounding that would put you on cloud nine for days and days. You clenched yourself hard, hoping with all hopes that nothing was leaking out to betray your secret state of undress. God, you were such a horny mess.
“You both are so in love it’s making me sick.”
You turned to your boss, raising an eyebrow at his snide remark. “Jealous much?”
Seokjin snorted at your retort, but to your surprise, did not say anything back. Keeping his eyes on you, he downed his champagne, and you saw his ears getting redder, from alcohol perhaps, or really, jealousy? Namjoon chuckled into your hair, while his hand glided down from your waist to the small of your back, then lower still to the top of your ass. He let out a hum, no doubt pleased he no longer felt the outline of your thong under your skirt. His touch was intoxicating, but you still watched Seokjin like a hawk.
Min Yoongi, who was standing next to your boss, cleared his throat. “You know you don’t have to keep playing my album, right? I think it’s been looped three times now.”
Seokjin slapped his back playfully. “Ah, you are one of our biggest clients! We have to support you!” You saw Yoongi hiding a small smile behind his drink. How typical, he always liked fishing for compliments despite his nonchalant demeanor.
“We’re basically using your music to brag.” You snatched a glass of champagne from a passing waiter. “Why do you think our shareholders AND their kids are here?”
Seokjin clicked a finger gun at you. “She’s smart, this one, that’s why she’s my protege.” Seokjin motioned for another drink. You counted five from the start of the night, this would be his sixth. He was drinking too fast and too much; it was quite unlike him. “Do you know she’s the one who brought Yoongi in?” The question was directed at Namjoon and your boyfriend dully nodded. “Told me her friend was looking for a law firm to represent him. The whole office nearly lost it when agustd himself walked in. Some couldn’t believe they were looking at agustd in the flesh, some couldn’t believe YOU were actually friends with him!”
Seokjin’s signature laughter boomed in the hall, causing some people to turn to look at your little group. Namjoon and Yoongi laughed along politely, but you continued to feel uneasy over Seokjin’s behavior. “You know, you never told us how you two became friends,” he eyed you and Yoongi.
“Ah,” you paused, looking at the rapper. His face remained expressionless, yet you knew he was giving you the rein to control the story, especially with your boyfriend present.
“We actually met at a bar, and he thought I was… a prostitute.”
Seokjin nearly spat out his drink. Namjoon squeezed your waist a little too tightly. Yoongi suddenly found a very interesting spot on the floor.
“You know my old boss,” you reminded Seokjin, “he liked to take his clients to those kinds of places, and I always had to tag along to pay their bills and get taxis for everyone, all that shit.”
Seokjin scoffed. “Yeah, he was a creep. The best thing I did after moving here from New York was transfer you to my team.”
Namjoon squeezed your waist again, his fingers dug deeper into your flesh.
“So, yeah, that’s how I first met Yoongi. Told him I wasn’t what he thought I was, gave him my card instead.” Then he made you cum with his tongue in the bar’s restroom. Twice.
“After that night, we met up a few times when he needed help with some legal issues about plagiarism, libel, and stuff like that. ” And you sucked his dick in his studio. Sometimes he bent you over his recording equipment to eat you out too.
“I’m just glad he trusts me- us,” you corrected yourself quickly, “enough to represent him now.” You trusted him enough to make a sex tape with him. You still had a copy of it. As he did.
Yoongi nodded. “Wouldn’t have anyone else.”
Your boss stared at you pointedly. What was wrong with him? You felt like he knew something and was trying to pry it out of you here of all places. He knew you had a few fuck buddies, apart from himself, before Namjoon came into the picture, but you never shared names. Did Seokjin suspect you had been sleeping with Yoongi? Was he trying to get it out in the open to make Namjoon jealous? But why? There was nothing in it for him, unless he was just being petty, unless… could it be possible? That he was jealous over you going steady with Namjoon and thus depriving him off his weekly fuck session with you? He could not possibly be that childish… but then again, Seokjin could be unpredictable. Especially with six glasses of champagne in his system.
“All right,” your boss sighed and put his arms around Yoongi, “I think it’s time to show you off to our shareholders. Those lovebirds look like they have better things to do anyway. Right?” He winked then directed the music producer to another part of the hall.
Your brows furrowed, you were still nowhere near clarity over his odd behavior. You had no time to analyze that further however, for Namjoon’s hand started traveling down to cup your ass.
“Joon! People can see!” You smacked his chest.
“Let them see. I want everyone to know I own this ass.” He pulled you around till you were flushed to his front. You shivered when you felt he was already hard. “You wear this skirt to work everyday, baby?”
You hugged him back, arms tight around his waist. He smelled so good, so manly, you just could not get enough of him, especially with his erection poking at your abdomen. “Not everyday, just when I need to feel good and powerful.”
“Hmm, is that so? I think you just like it when your boss and clients ogle you.”
You stepped back to look at him, your cheeks burning uncontrollably. You definitely felt called out. “Who? Them?”
His face still looked friendly and amiable, but you sensed his energy had taken a more intense turn. “I’ve seen how they look at you, especially at this ass.” He squeezed again, much harder this time, making no effort to hide what he was doing. His touch burned through your skirt onto your skin, and you wish you could stop the flow of arousal leaking onto your inner thighs.
“Fuck, Joon,” you whimpered. “They’re not… I… shit, let’s just go home now.”
He chuckled. “Okay, baby. I’ll wipe you down in the taxi if you get too wet.” He patted his back pocket, where your thong was.
He wiped you down that night, all right. He made you cum over and over with his fingers so he could wipe your creamy cum off of his fingers with your thong, and once he was satisfied, he sucked on the soaked material till you begged him to fuck you. And like a good boyfriend he was, he gave you what you asked, and more, until you lay spent, unable to move, your body oversensitized but somehow your mind still ended up wondering what was going on with Seokjin.
~~~
Your chopsticks clattered noisily on the table, interrupting the conversation between Namjoon and his little sister in the busy restaurant.
“Sorry,” you mumbled, recovering quickly and gripping the chopsticks a little tighter. “Did you say you’re going on a date with Jungkook this Friday?”
Namjoon’s sister nodded. “Yeah, he asked me to go to the arcade with him. Which is a bit unusual,” she smiled shyly, her dimples prominent on her cheeks, “but I like that idea. It’ll be more fun and casual, right?” Your boyfriend nodded, humming in pleasure, from both food and his sister’s excitement.
“I didn’t know you know Jungkook.”
“Friday will be their first meeting, I set them up. She’s been complaining about all the shitty boys in her uni. Thought Jungkook would make a good match with her.”
Namjoon slurped his noodles. Namjoon’s sister was sweet and kind, and as smart as her big brother. But with Jungkook? You simply could not see it.
“Ah, I see,” you forced a smile. “I didn’t know you were setting them up.”
Namjoon glanced at you. “Oh, was I supposed to?”
“Well, it’d be nice to know before you planned all that. He’s my friend.”
“He’s my friend too.”
You poked at your dumpling a little too aggressively. “Well Namjoon, I’ve been friends with him longer than you have, so yes, you should’ve told me!”
“I didn’t think that mattered. I spend as much time with him as you do, if not more.”
“I introduced you to him, it mattered.” You muttered, fully aware how childish you were sounding.
He rolled his eyes. “You’re overreacting.”
Your boyfriend’s off-handed comment set you off, enough to push your food away before standing up. “I’m going to the restroom.” You grabbed your bag and coat, and instead of the toilet, you headed to the exit. You heard Namjoon curse, and his sister worriedly asking him if everything was all right.
Once you stepped out, cold air immediately assaulted your senses, giving you a sudden clarity, and with it, came guilt. You could not understand why you reacted the way you did. No, you had to stop lying to yourself- you knew exactly why. Jungkook asked you out to an arcade a long time ago, and why you turned him down. You simply hated the fact that someone else actually said yes, even when that someone was your own boyfriend’s sweet little sister.
You sighed when you felt a rush of warm air from the restaurant’s door behind you, signaling that Namjoon had come out to see you. He was right, you overreacted, but damned if you were going to apologize. You stood by your opinion, however rashed and illogical, that you should have been involved in the plan from the beginning.
“What the hell was that?” Namjoon finally asked when the silence stretched a little too long.
You took a deep breath; you were a little calmer, but you still tried to answer him carefully. “Jungkook is my friend. One of my closest friends. I’m just upset you set him up with your sister without talking about it with me first.”
Your boyfriend tilted his head, observing you. “I honestly didn’t think it would upset you this much. Actually, I thought you’d be happy for both of them.”
“I’m protective of him, okay?” You snapped. “He’s been through so much shit with people he thought he could trust, so I just wanted to make-”
“And you think my sister isn’t trustworthy enough?” Namjoon cut you off, the ice in his voice biting.
“I didn’t say that.”
“But it’s implied, very clearly.”
You refused to give him any response, not when you could not even comprehend the jumbled emotions you were feeling. You folded your arms defiantly and faced away from your boyfriend.
“What’s Jungkook to you, really?”
Your heart dropped to your stomach. You kept your back to Namjoon. “A friend.”
“Just a friend?”
“A client, who became a really good friend. Okay?”
Namjoon’s eyes were boring through your back. “I told you, I don’t like being lied to.” Despite his level and calm voice, you still felt the anger brimming underneath.
“And I told you, Jungkook was a client, who became a really good friend.” You finally turned to look at your boyfriend, your eyes set on his, staring back at him sternly. However his lack of response continued to feed the uneasiness in you. Your heart beat faster, every logical instinct in you screamed for you to look away, but you could not. You had to stare him down for him to believe your words.
“Okay,” he reached out to cup your cheek. Despite the gentle gesture, you still held your breath. “Let’s go back inside, she’s worried.”
Embarrassment filled you, and your flight instinct kicked in. “You go,Joon. Finish your dinner with your sister. I’ll call her later to apologize.”
“Where are you going?”
“Home.” You turned away, avoiding your boyfriend’s questioning look. You flagged down a taxi “Are you coming back to my place?”
His jaws clenched, he was clearly unhappy but he still opened the taxi door for you, ever the gentleman. “I’m not going to yours tonight. I’ll call you tomorrow.”
The finality in his tone was followed by a slam of the door. You watched him go back into the restaurant, long strides leading him away from you without even a glance back. You exhaled shakily, angry and disappointed at yourself. You decided you did not want to be alone, you did not want to go home if he was not going to be there later. So you gave the taxi driver Hoseok’s address, instead of yours.
~~~
You came home to Namjoon’s place earlier than planned, to the sound of the shower running. Namjoon must have just gotten home too, you thought, and you plopped down on his bed, debating whether to join him or wait for him to finish.
Before you could make a decision, you noticed his notebook- the one where he wrote down all his musings and short poems- open on his side of the bed. You never looked through the book, only reading what he wanted to show you. Curiosity got the better of you, though, so you took a peek.
If I could be under your skin
Closer than we’ve ever been
Wanna lock you up in my sight
But you run away like fish
You stared at his scribbles. Were these lines about you? Was that how he felt about you? Your chest thumped, your mind reeled back to the conversation you had with Hoseok earlier that night.
“Marriage and kids, Hoseok, that’s what he wants.”
“Then tell him that’s not what you want.”
“What if I lose him?”
“Then you lose him. Isn’t it better than living in a lie? Pretending to want something you actually don’t?”
Your heart constricted. Did Namjoon know, was that the reason he wrote these down?
“I know it’s hard, babe. I can see how Namjoon makes you happy, but his golden dick aside, you’re not built for the long run. You and I are the same, we’re too selfish, we’re better off on our own.”
Was that true what Hoseok said? You had been free, yes, before Namjoon, doing things on your own terms and satisfying your urges on your own schedule. But being with Namjoon was good too. He was kind, he challenged you intellectually, he gave you attention the way none of your previous fuck buddies ever did once sex was over. That was not a bad thing, was it? And you knew you gave a lot to Namjoon too. The museums, the parks, the poetry reading and discussion- you gave him your time for all that. Were you supposed to give more?
You nearly jumped out of your skin when the bathroom door opened. You immediately move to stand up, away from the notebook, pretending you just got home then instead of a few minutes earlier.
“You’re home,” your boyfriend greeted you in surprise. “Thought you’d party longer with Hoseok tonight.”
You stared wide eyed at Namjoon- bare chest, towel slung low on his hips. He ruffled his wet hair with his hands, biceps flexing naturally.
“Can’t keep up with his energy anymore, besides why would I waste my time there when this is waiting for me at home?” You made your way to the bathroom, brushing your hand across his abs as you walked past him. You surprised yourself at how calm you sounded.
He followed you, chuckling at your teasing. He leaned on the bathroom door as you started removing your makeup at the sink. You raised an eyebrow at him. “Aren’t you going to put any clothes on?”
He shook his head. “Nah. Am I distracting you?”
“You’re going to catch a cold.” You scolded, but he just folded his arms across his broad chest. “How was your night with Yoongi?”
“It was good, he’s turning me into a whiskey drinker.” He moved to stand behind you, you could see from his reflection how his eyes were roaming up and down your body. The reaction in you was instantaneous. You pressed your legs together to dam the growing arousal. “He invited me to write some lyrics with him.”
“Really? Joon! That’s amazing!” You straightened up and attempted to turn to hug him, but his arms stopped you, keeping your back to him. You watched his reflection intently; the way a rumble escaped his throat when he pulled the zipper of your dress down, the way he bit his lower lip as he pushed the garment off your shoulders, the way he purred as the material fell around your ankles, leaving you in your lacy bra and thong, and your trusted thigh high stockings.
“Kim Namjoon, poet and lyricist,” you shuddered as his large hands ghosted over your bare skin. “Fuck, that’s so hot, Joon.”
He smirked. “Yeah, I thought you’d like that. Was planning to celebrate with you tomorrow,” he paused to trail kisses from your shoulder to your neck. “didn’t want to tire you out tonight, but it looks like you’re ready for our own private party, aren’t you baby?” His hand slithered under your thong, and your eyes fluttered shut as he ran a single digit between your folds, enticing more wetness to seep out.
“Open your eyes, baby. Watch yourself while I finger you open.”
His thick, long finger pushed its way into your hole, his palm flushed against your throbbing sex, keeping you in place. You exhaled shakily, as you forced your eyes open, and your mind immediately short circuited at what you saw. His large hand bulged underneath your little thong, stretching the material as he finger fucked you.
“That’s it, baby,” another digit joined in, “keep watching, look at how much you enjoy my fingers.”
Eyes transfixed on your own reflection, you clenched harder around his pumping fingers. Your face was bare of makeup and pasty, eyes red from the party and the alcohol, but all your senses were lit up on fire and he continued to stroke it to burn hotter and brighter. You mewled when a third finger joined into your hole, and you gripped his wrist, half in protest, half in encouragement. You felt stretched, but not yet full.
Namjoon wrapped his free hand around your waist and pulled you up, his hard chest plastered against your back. “Breathe, baby, relax,” he soothed you, “you know I gotta stretch you out, your little pussy’s too tight for my cock.”
You whimpered at his words. For a poet, he had such a dirty mouth. And he knew how much you liked it.
“Can you take one more, hmm?” The hand on your middle traveled up to latch on your breast. “Or do you think you’re ready for me?”
You grinded on his crotch as a response, both mouth and cunt salivating at the hardness nestled on your back.
“You want it now, don’t you?” He pulled his fingers out and you panted, eyes still locked with his, although a lot more glazed with lust and unbridled desires. He tugged his towel loose, letting it fall to the floor. He moved his hand from your breast to the space between your shoulder blades, pushing your body down and forward. With your ass sticking out, he spanked the flesh a few times before pulling your thong roughly off you.
“Why do you even wear this pathetic thing,” he tutted, tossing your underwear to the floor. He then cupped your asscheeks to open you up, to have your pulsating center opened and exposed to his eyes. “New house rule, baby. You’re only allowed to wear these stockings here, nothing else. Gotta keep you ready for my cock at all times.”
He slapped his length on your sopping pussy a few times, eliciting cries out of your mouth. He truly could turn you into a sopping mess with such little effort. Desperate, you pushed yourself back at him, your eyes and body begging for him as your mind melted in horniness, unable to form any sentences to tell him what you wanted.
Namjoon understood immediately- he was tuned in to you like that, having learned how your body responded to his stimuli. He lined himself to your dripping entrance and started pushing in deeper and deeper.
You gave up trying to keep your eyes open. “Ah, daddy…”
“That’s right, baby,” he bottomed out. “Who’s your daddy?”
“You… you…”
He pulled out slowly then pushed himself back in even more excruciatingly slow. “What’s your daddy’s name?”
If I could be under your skin…
“Namjoon,” you breathed out, “Kim Namjoon. Oh!”
He slammed in, spearing you into delirium in one movement. “Fuck, baby,” he puffed, “wish you could see how hot you are right now. Shit. You got your phone in here?”
You tightened at what he was hinting at.
“You want that, baby? We should record ourselves, huh? You’d love this, your puffy lips around my cock, fuck!” His pace quickened. The slapping sounds of your skin and his grew deafening. “And these thigh highs? Fucking hell!”
He faltered once, and you knew he was losing the iron grip control he normally displayed during sex. You raised yourself up, grasping the back of his neck, anchoring yourself. In return, he wrapped you tighter to his chest, his large hands clutching your breasts, as if they were a lifeline for his sanity.
Closer than we’ve ever been…
Your eyes locked onto the bodies in the mirror, watching the pornographic scene. Molded to his body, he continued pounding you from behind, bouncing you on his cock. You slid a hand down to your clit, thrumming the bud frantically to chase your orgasm.
“Keep your eyes open, baby, watch us, watch us cum together.” His shaky voice was desperate, needy.
Wanna lock you up in my sight…
You kept on attacking your clit, feeling the heat rising and rising till it finally exploded, your eyes instinctively closing as your body froze in ecstasy, cunt clamping down on his cock. A growl penetrated your haze, he released his seed deep into you as his muscly arms nearly crushed your body.
But you ran away like fish…
Tears running down your face, you breathlessly clung to him, not willing to let him go just yet.
~~~
The kitchen was quiet except for the sounds of dishes clattering and your hissing at Namjoon to be careful.
“God knows where Seokjin bought all these from. Our combined salary isn't enough to cover any damages.” You passed another plate to your boyfriend, glaring at him as a warning to be more careful.
“It’s just a plate.” He took the plate and dried it with a dishtowel, before putting it ever so slowly on the counter. You rolled your eyes at his exaggeration.
“Yes, and again, that plate probably costs more than your precious art books. Why the hell does Seokjin not have a dishwasher in here?”
Namjoon scoffed, and continued taking the washed dishes from you to dry them. It was utterly domestic, you thought, especially since you and your boyfriend used the kitchen only to make coffee and the occasional ramyeon. Sharing living space with him was surprisingly easy, for you had your own corners of organized chaos- his tower of books by the sofa, your piles of documents by your side of the bed, his shoes taking half of the space by the entryway, your own thrown into a rack nearby. He had his own mess, you had yours; he left yours alone and you did not touch his. It was a perfect co-existence.
So doing something as simple as washing dishes- even in your boss’ kitchen- felt somewhat special. Namjoon seemed to feel the same; he was humming and throwing you little smiles, but it turned out he had something else in mind.
“Remember what you asked me a few days ago?”
“You have to be more specific. I asked a lot of things from you.”
He lowered his voice. “I’m referring to the threesome.”
You dropped the metal ladle you were rinsing into the sink, the clanging noise echoed loudly through the kitchen, and beyond. “Don’t break anything!” Seokjin shouted from the living room. You glared at your boyfriend. Namjoon held back a giggle, and you both stayed quiet until Seokjin and Jungkook’s laughter filled the apartment again.
“They’re busy gaming, they won’t hear us.” Namjoon took the ladle and dried it dutifully. You moved on to wash the chopsticks.
“If I remember correctly, you dismissed my question that night,” you shot him an accusatory look. “Why are you suddenly asking now?”
He took the rinsed chopsticks from you and wiped them down before half-throwing them onto the drying rack. You winced; your gentle giant had already forgotten the warning you gave him earlier.
“I’ve kind of been thinking about it.”
“Oh?” You reached for the silver spoons in the sink, scrubbing it to the rhythm of your increasing heartbeat.
“I’ve thought,” his voice went lower into a whisper, like the kind he used to whisper his dirty talk into your ear, “if we were to do it, it’d have to be with someone we’re both comfortable with, right?”
With your eyes still glued on the spoons, you nodded.
“So, I kind of went through the list of our mutual friends, for someone we might invite to our bed.”
You rinsed the spoons, the warm water from the tap only made you feel more feverish. Was this what domesticity was about? Talking about sexual fantasies and kinks while doing the most mundane household chore?
“And?” You stole a glance at your boyfriend.
“What do you think of Seokjin?”
Upon hearing the name, you paused and turned slowly to face your boyfriend. Was he serious? Was he really considering having your very handsome, very hot boss involved in a sexual act with the two of you?
“He’s handsome, and I think he’d be fun. But yeah, that’d put you in an awkward situation, right?” Namjoon murmured, taking your silence as a sign of disapproval. “I thought of Jungkook too, but he probably would get too competitive, and I’m not going to go head to head with someone who hates losing.”
You were flabbergasted. You did not expect your boyfriend to have this deep of an analysis to a question you had asked when drunk.
“Hoseok, maybe?” Your boyfriend continued, scratching his chin. You were losing your mind. Namjoon’s expression was serious, deep in thought, and he kept talking, getting the thoughts out of his brilliant brain to weigh all the pros and cons. It was so logical and systematic, the way he was picking out which of your friend’s cock he would allow you to have, as if he was deciding which bicycle to buy. “But it’s tricky because you used to date, right? What if during the threesome sparks flew again between you two and I got kicked out.”
“We did not date. We tried, and failed spectacularly.” You found your voice to protest. Hoseok would not be too bad of a choice. He was fun and adventurous, his physique was different from Namjoon’s, and you had to admit the two of them painted a very tantalizing picture in your mind. Moreover, your boyfriend and your best friend both had a very similar tendency to take charge. You liked the idea indeed.
“Nah, I’m not taking my chances. Are you done with those?” He pointed at the spoons in your hands. You had been rinsing them under the running water. He took them from you to wipe them down, before throwing them onto the drying rack. You winced again at the sound, and in your heightened state, a whiny gasp escaped.
The sound did not go unnoticed. A corner of his mouth went up as he wiped his hands dry. He then turned to you, taking your hands into his. He started wiping your fingers one by one. The air had shifted, tension coiling around you both.
“That leaves us with Yoongi,” you dared to say. Namjoon’s jaw clenched.
“Or the jazz singer,” dragon eyes bored into yours. “There must be a reason you introduced me to him.”
Heart pounding, you attempted to put on a coy smile, although inside you were panicking. It was hitting a little too close to a memory you did not want to resurrect. “He’s a good singer and I just thought you’d enjoy listening to his stuff.”
He bit his lower lip and your knees nearly buckled. It was not fair how easily your body reacted to him; you were like a Pavlovian bitch in heat. “He’s drop dead gorgeous too. You have a thing for musicians, don’t you?”
You knew he was baiting you so you had to judge if giving him a little more glimpse of your past would favor you or anger him. Instinctively, you wanted to provoke him a little; a jealous Namjoon was a dominant Namjoon, and you were addicted to that side of him.
“I have a thing,” you placed your hands on his chest, enjoying the hard muscles there, “for a poet who can make me swoon and drench my panties in a single stanza.”
The rumble in his chest signaled his contentment to your words. “And does this poet satisfy you?”
Your hands snaked around his neck. “In more ways than one,” you purred, stroking his ego further.
“Good,” he gripped your chin. He did not need to say more, you understood from the sharp gaze of his eyes and the pressure on your skin that the conversation was over. A mixture of disappointment and arousal brimmed over you in the form of a sigh, and he descended on your mouth. You resigned to his eager lips and tongue, and raised yourself on your toes to clutch onto him tighter, to show him- and yourself- that he was more than enough for you, that you needed no one else but him.
The kiss turned feverish quickly, and you fought the urge to climb and wrap your legs around him. He sensed your desperate need, his hands cupped your ass roughly but before he could lift you up, a voice interrupted your impromptu hot and heavy makeout session.
“Do not soil my kitchen, please.” Seokjin walked past you to get a new bottle of sikhye. Despite his warning words, his eyes ogled your ass covered in Namjoon’s large hands. “Go fuck like rabbits at your own place, not here.”
You bit back a squeal when Namjoon squeezed your ass cheek a little too harshly. You looked up at him and noticed his sharp jawline twitched once, then twice. A gush of arousal flooded your panties instantly, and you knew what lay ahead when you got back home.
~~~
“Um, I don’t think this is my table.”
You looked up from your book to find a towering figure of a man, dressed casually in a matching yellow sweatshirt and sweatpants, looking down at you with a confused expression on his face.
“This is the table Mrs. Shin has reserved, sir,” the restaurant hostess explained politely, though a little patronizing.
“Yet that is not my mother,” the man pointed at you.
“I was supposed to meet MY mother for lunch; this table is under her name, isn’t it?” You questioned the hostess, the same person who had led you to this very table just a few minutes earlier.
“Ah, yes, the table was reserved under two names,” she checked her slim tablet and read out the names, “for two people.”
You looked at the man, both of you sporting a bewildered yet determined look at the mix-up. You would not give up the table you were already at for this man and his mother, no matter how intimidating he looked in yellow. And tall. And big. And handsome.
The hostess interrupted your staredown. “My apologies, there is a recent note left on the reservation. Mrs Shin wrote that,” she looked at you, her customer service smile in full force, “her son and her friend’s daughter will be taking the table instead.”
“Huh?” The man looked even more lost. You fished out your phone to call and question your mother.
The hostess raised her eyebrows, her fake smile still intact. “This is your table, sir.”
“But, my mo-”
“She set you up. Your mothers set you up.”
Your thumb paused over the green call button. “What do you mean by that?”
“This is a blind date,” the woman sounded exasperated. “That man is your blind date. And she’s your blind date, sir.”
She pulled the chair across from you for the man, as if to emphasize her point, as well as a signal that her part in whatever plan your mother had cooked up was done. The man eyed you carefully; he still looked confused, you thought, but there was a splash of curiosity in his almond eyes.
You thanked the hostess, and shook your head as she bounded away, free at last.
“My mom did mention she met an old high school friend a couple of weeks ago,” the man sighed with a soft laugh. “I’m betting my life savings your mom mentioned something similar to you too?”
You nodded, your mother had indeed. “Yup. Now that she’s retired, she seems to be always up to no good.”
The man chuckled, and your eyes widened at the deep dimples appearing on his cheeks. “Well, so what now?”
Did his voice just go lower? “We can throw this back at them,” you leaned forward, and he mimicked your movement. You swallowed. He was very handsome indeed, but there was something else that made him very attractive… you couldn’t put a finger to it.
“What have you got in mind?”
Sex appeal. That was it. This man was oozing with sex appeal. “We could tell them we left the moment we found out their plan, but,” you licked your lips, “at least the sex was phenomenal.”
Cocking his head, he stared you down. You had done this before, with more formidable opponents, across a conference room or in a courtroom, but you had never felt this exposed; his eyes continued boring through yours, making your cheeks burn uncontrollably.
He shifted in his seat to lean in more, to get even closer to you, clasping his hands on the table. You glanced down- dear god, his hands were big, and you knew what they said about big hands.
“I like that plan, but you see, I have a little problem with that,” his voice was low and gravely, and you felt like you were running out of air to breathe. “I don’t lie to my mother. So the sex… it’d better be phenomenal.”
You bit your lower lip, preventing a moan from escaping. Fucking hell, where had this man been all your life?
“Deal.” You packed your things and stood up. He followed suit. The hostess looked at you quizzically as you left, and you did not hear what the man said to her to make her gasp audibly. The low rumble of laughter followed you out and into a taxi. After a quick discussion, it was surmised that his place was much closer, and you both stayed quiet during the short drive. You did not trust yourself to say anything, not even to ask for his name, for you were sure the only thing that would come out of your mouth was loud, appreciative hums over how long his legs were, how big his thighs looked under the sweatpants, how long his fingers were gripping his kneecap, and how HOT he felt sitting next to you. In short, you were a horny mess, and you did not need the taxi driver to witness the lack of impropriety you were willing to commit for the man next to you.
On arrival, he ushered you out and with his palm firm on the small of your back, he led you up to his door. He stepped in front of you to key in his code, it again hit you how BIG he was. You realized he was not much taller than Seokjin and Taehyung, but why was he so big?
The door opened with a beep and he stepped in, you hot on his heels. Right after you both removed your shoes, he turned to you, literally sandwiching you between the door and his wall of a chest.
“You sure about this?”
You looked up at him, at his dark dragon eyes, at his jaws clenching. “Yeah. Fuck yeah.”
He leaned down towards you and you raised yourself on your toes to meet him halfway. The kiss started soft, safe, the bravado from the restaurant seemed to dissipate, taken over by the curiosity of new touch, new taste, new sensation. You tilted your head to let him in more, for his tongue to slither in, to lick into your mouth, and when you moaned against his mouth, he lifted you up so effortlessly, giving relief to your calves.
You wrapped your legs around his waist (god, what a tree to climb this man was), and his large hands cupped your ass, keeping you secure in his hold. You felt him moving, and you opened your eyes when he broke the kiss to explore your neck. He was walking to his bedroom, you presumed, andyou saw flashes of leafy green and wood undertones in his apartment. Combined with the bright yellow color he had on, your mind wondered briefly who he really was.
He lay you down on his bed, his hands left your ass to hastily undress you- impatience kicking in, clothes strewn about to the floor, until you were lying under him, skin rubbing against skin as your mouths met again to swallow each other’s moans. His hand roamed to graze against your hard nipple, then down between your legs, an appreciative hum vibrated in his chest at the wetness found there.
His face appeared in your vision as he raised himself up on one elbow, looking down at you. His eyes widened a little when your face scrunched a little, a reaction to his thick finger finding his way deep into your hole. He shuffled to spread your legs with his, all the while still pinning you down with his large body, leaving you little room to move.
You gripped his biceps when a second finger went in, moaning helplessly at the intrusion. His eyes never left you- they were watching you like a hawk for every pleasure and displeasure, observing you carefully to know when and how far he could go.
A hitched breath from you lifted a corner of his mouth up, and he moved his fingers faster. You held on to him more tightly, your manicured nails digging into his skin, determined to leave their marks. You could hear how wet you were, his fingers juicing more and more liquid out of you, and then you felt it. A brush against that promising spot inside you that made you gasp and tighten, and you knew from the look in his eyes that he got you. Hook, line and sinker.
He shifted again, to spread your legs wider and to grip your hair, to ensure that you were looking at him and him only, his fingers not losing an ounce of momentum. He coaxed you higher and higher, and you held your eyes open as much as you could, not daring to break his eye contact.
“You’re getting close, aren’t you,” his low voice loud amidst the squelching sounds from down below, “I can feel it.”
You could not find the words to answer him, so your hands left his biceps for his shoulders, holding on to them for dear life.
“Come on baby, cum on my fingers, gotta get you as wet as possible for daddy’s big cock.”
That did it. You immediately careened into your climax, pussy clamping down yet his fingers still moved, even faster. You nearly cried when he pulled out so suddenly, leaving you so agonizingly empty, but a wet swipe of tongue made your back arched precariously high, and you lost control of what was happening when his mouth worked you to… prolong your orgasm? Or was this a back to back orgasm? Fuck, you did not care, you just wanted more and more and more.
You whimpered, your body oversensitized in the best of ways, and he finally left your quivering pussy. You felt him leave the bed altogether, and you wanted to protest, but no words came out other than wordless sounds begging him to come back. The bed dipped so you lifted your head, only to find him rolling a condom down his cock, and fuck, what a cock! If you thought Taehyung was big, this was another definition altogether.
He lined himself up and looked at you for a green light. You nodded, bracing yourself for what to come. He entered slowly- so painfully slow- and you understood he did not want to hurt you, but your cunt was aching so much, you just wanted him to split you open with his big dick and make you see stars for days. And so you did what you never, ever did with anyone else.
“Daddy,” you breathed out the honorific, “just fuck me hard please.”
His whole body froze. “You sure?”
“Yes. I’m so fucking horny,” you held his gaze and repeated your request, “ just fuck me hard as hard as you can. Please.”
You heard a growl- he growled, dear god!- before you felt the full girth and length of his cock ramming into you. You cried as he fucked you like you had asked him to, hard and fast, making his bed creak, the sound competing against the slapping of your skins and the wails from your mouth. He lifted your legs, resting them on his sweaty chest as he pounded you, then he slowed down when he felt you closing in to your climax. You sobbed in pure neediness, but he pulled out and flipped you over, and in one smooth motion, he was back inside again, fucking you into the mattress. His large hand was on your neck to hold you down, the other kneading and smacking your ass.
“No marks, no marks,” you panted in a moment of clarity. You let go enough to call him daddy, but not enough for him to leave marks on you.
He complied immediately, leaning down to pin your body as he continued to pound you. His hands searched for yours, to link his fingers with yours as his hips started to stutter.
“Fuck, you’re so tight,” he groaned to your neck. You clenched. “Come with me, baby, come- fuck!”
The final climax took you out, you blinked away the post-orgasm haze as he removed himself from you, freeing you from his body weight. You could not move, except to gingerly turn your head to look at him, lying next to you on his back, his chest rising up and down.
“That was amazing.”
“Amazing is not phenomenal,” you managed to say, voice hoarse. Your throat was so parched. “You’d still be lying to your mom.”
He chuckled. “Give me five minutes. Then we can try again.”
“Sounds good,” you agreed. “I’m _______, by the way.”
“I’m Namjoon.” His arm reached over to shake your lifeless one. “Nice to meet you. Do you like poetry?”
You called your mother later that night, annoyed at first at her attempt to set you up, but ended up telling her you would be meeting Namjoon again, maybe for a museum date in a week or so. No, not this coming week, you were swamped with work (and a threesome appointment but she definitely did not need to know that) and yes, he was very nice, and yes, she picked a winner, and no, let us not be too hasty, you would like to take it slow, though in your mind you already knew you wanted to see him again, and again, to have him fuck the living daylights out of you with his golden dick. But of course, you said nothing of the sort to your mother.
~~~
TONIGHT
You look at your phone again. 11:58pm.
Namjoon said he would be back soon, and that was an hour ago. You aren’t worried, you know he’s at Yoongi’s studio. The two of them have gotten along like houses on fire, musically and otherwise, and you should feel happy, right? Your investment banker turned published poet boyfriend is now writing song lyrics with and for the hottest music producer in the country. That’s hot, that’s fucking sexy.
But still, you feel annoyed. You love that your friends get along with Namjoon, but lately it seems Namjoon prefers spending time with them more than with you. Granted you nearly killed his bonsai after he entrusted you to look after it during his family vacation in Japan. And that you complained non stop during a 15-minute bicycle ride along the river. And that you nag him over the mess he left in the bathroom. And that he dislikes how you kick him awake when he starts snoring.
And when petty bickering makes its way into full-blown arguments.
And when you face away from each other when you go to bed.
And when you keep refusing his invitation to spend the big holidays with his family. Which now includes Jungkook.
And when you evade any question about the future.
‘Let’s just see how we go’ is banned from your vocabulary, unless for the moments when you feel especially petty to pick a fight with him.
You sigh. You might as well go to sleep now; even if he comes home in the next five seconds, what are you going to do? The sex is still good, but you’re far from in the mood for it. You sigh again while making yourself comfortable under the blanket, willing yourself to fall asleep.
Only sleep continues to evade you. Too many thoughts are running through your head, and one in particular is shouting louder than the rest. You block it out. Shut up. Sleep.
And still, you lie awake. Till the door beeps, signaling your boyfriend returning home. You keep your body unmoving, eyes vacant, staring at the window, away from your bedroom door. You hear him come in, and there is a hint of alcohol in the air now. Your heart sinks. He wasn’t just working with Yoongi, he was also drinking with Yoongi. The realization gives an ominous feeling.
You hold your breath when the bed dips. So he decides to get in bed even without changing. Great. Then you feel his breath on your neck.
“Baby? You awake?”
An instinct to stay quiet and continue lying like a dead fish crosses your mind, but your heart aches, and you know tonight might just be the night.
You rollover to find yourself face to face with him. His hair is longer now, messy, ruffled no doubt by the winter winds outside because he forgot to wear his beanie again. You reach out to tuck an errand strand behind his ear. He smiles gently.
You continue staring at each other, so many words to be said yet none is said at all. It feels like he knows as well as you do, the chapter is ending and another is starting. You both have avoided this conversation far too long, stringing each other along with the amazing sex and soul shaking orgasms. You take a deep breath, and he does too. It is time.
“I think we should break up.”
A/N: dont hate me for the ending please 😅 I just can't see any other way for the series to end, esp after the Jimin chapter. Come shout at me if you're upset. Or you can reblog so more readers can see how much I hate happy endings ☺️ Thank you for reading!
Series Masterlist: Little Black Book
Published 06022023
Crossposted to my ao3
Blue Whale 52 ~inactive~ @bluewhale52 - Tumblr Blog | Tumgag
