summary: on the side of a sunburnt los angeles road, you with a broken down car meet a man you can't stop thinking about. he's older, composed, impossibly charming, and far too experienced to be looking at you the way he does. you're used to immature love that never knew how to hold you properly. but with him, everything is different.
themes: age gap (reader is 24, namjoon is 33), los angeles in the 2000s, smut, fluff, famous producer x non!celebrity reader, reader doesn't know who he is, confident joon yum, mainly readers pov w/ brief joon's pov, he's whipped, brief texting, tension, established relationship, strangers to lovers, teasing, they go on dates, joon is a gentleman, relationship building, joon is so dom and a lil possessive, nicknames, porn with lots of plot, eventual love confession
warnings: sexual themes, explicit & descriptive smut MINORS DNI 18+ (hard dom! joon, slight age kink & size kink, slightly semi-public sex(?? in his studio :3), unprotected sex, praise/dirty talk, edging/teasing, fingering, oral f, slight choking if u squint, creampie)
word count: 18k.. whoops
inspired by arirang joon because he's just too fine
♬ ₊˚. street thing - aaliyah
it was a late, blazing july afternoon with the kind of california heat that sticks to everything.
your beater car had just given up on you in the worst possible place it could—pulled over on the stretch of a busy road with no shade, just heat shimmering off the black asphalt and distant palm trees that don't feel helpful at all.
you already tried the obvious things. ignition, gas, trying it all again like it might change something.
it never did.
you leaned back against the passenger door of your car letting out a frustrated breath, hair sticking to your neck as you watched cars pass by with the soft sound of your hazards blinking in the background.
of course it's today. of course it's here.
that was when you suddenly heard the low hum of an engine slow down beside you. a sleek, black bmw—expensive, but not loud about it. it pulled in front of your car, and for a second you think the car is just stopping briefly.
that was before the driver door opened.
he steps out like he’s not in a rush to be anywhere else.
tall—noticeably so, he moves towards you easily, like he’s used to taking up space without ever forcing it.
sunglasses sit low on his nose, shielding his eyes, but not enough to hide the way his attention lands exactly on you. his shirt is simple—lightweight, slightly open at the collar, sleeves pushed up just enough to show his forearms. nothing flashy.
but it fits him too well. everything about him does.
dark jeans, clean shoes, watch on his wrist that you can't recognize but can tell is expensive. you notice all of him in the mere seconds he takes to walk over to you, the feeling hitting you all at once.
dear god, he was fine. the kind that made you straighten up a little bit without realizing; running a quick hand through your hair and fixing your jewelry.
he walks toward the front of your car, unhurried, one hand sliding briefly into his pocket before resting against the hood of your car.
up close, it’s worse.
sharper features than you expected. clean, but not overly polished. there’s something slightly worn in about him—like experience and maturity that sits on him well.
“everything alright?” he asks, voice is low and steady.
you blink for a second longer than necessary before responding. why does he look like that... helping me with my car?
"uh-" you stammer before clearing your throat. "it's- it's dead."
"yeah..." he says, eyes examining your car closer. "i can see that."
you nod and suddenly there's a pause, small but noticeable.
he comes around the side of your car, closing the distance between you to look inside of the window. you fumble while taking a few steps back as he looks at your dashboard then back at you, suddenly flustered by his presence.
"you got jumper cables?" he asks.
you simply shook your head.
"didn't think so," he says simply.
he walks back to his car, and you stand there feeling so helpless in the hot sun as he turns his car around to face yours in a swift manner, opening the door casually before coming around to his trunk like he's done this plenty of times.
when he comes back with the cables, he quickly slides his sunglasses in a way you almost miss a glimpse of his whole face.
you assumed it was because of the sun. but little did you know, it wasn't.
because before he walked back to his car, he had looked at you a little too closely. it wasn't some polite, quick glance. it was one that lasted a second too long.
he noticed everything about you.
the way your top fits—not overly revealing, but just enough to catch his attention without trying. the fabric light, slightly clinging from the heat. your skirt—shorter than it probably needed to be, riding just a little higher from the way you shifted against your car door.
his gaze dropped, brief, controlled—then came back up. your legs, your hands, the thin bracelet at your wrist. rings that don’t match perfectly but somehow work. jewelry that feels personal to you.
he takes note of that. of course he does.
then, your face. slightly flush from the heat, skin warm toned and sun-kissed. there's something effortless about you, like you spent more time living in the sun than hiding from it.
your expression—somewhere between annoyed and trying not to be. and your eyes, focused on him, but not softened. not entirely impressed by him, but more appreciative.
and when he closed his trunk, he forgets to look away. so he pulls his sunglasses back over, quick and casual. like it's nothing.
and not because of the sunlight, but because he was looking at you a little too openly. and he knew it.
he arrives at your car and connects everything smoothly, no hesitation and big hands steady. it was unfairly attractive.
“so,” he says, glancing up while he works, “you live out here or just enjoying the scenic breakdown experience?”
a smile pulls at your mouth despite yourself. “neither. i was just trying to get home.”
“mm.” he clicks something into place. “dangerous thing to try in LA.”
that gets a small laugh out of you, softer now and less defensive.
when the car finally sputters back to life, you visibly relax. he steps back, wiping his hands lightly. “there you go."
you should've just said thank you and left. but something in you doesn't act immediately. because now that the problem was gone, the silence between you two felt different now.
“so how do i… repay you?” you ask, half-joking, half-serious.
he tilts his head slightly. "you don’t.” a beat passes. "just don't break down in the worst place possible next time."
you rolled your eyes a little, a smirk tugging at your lips. "no promises."
that earns a small smile from him. he steps back toward his car, then pauses like he’s deciding something.
“i’m—” he starts, then stops himself, like he’s choosing not to introduce himself the usual way. "i’ll see you around.”
"yeah... thank you."
and you watch him get back into his car, driving away and getting lost in the sea of los angeles traffic as you realized two things;
you didn't get his name, and you would likely never see him again.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
one week later
he's just getting off the phone when it happens.
“yeah, send it over tonight,” he says, already half-distracted. “i"ll listen then.”
a pause. “mm. yeah. i got it.” he ends the call before the other person finishes their last sentence.
he slips his phone into his pocket, stepping onto the sidewalk, the afternoon sun hitting just right—warm, a little blinding, the kind of los angeles light that makes everything look softer than it is.
but he's not really paying attention at first.
he's thinking about work. about a track that still isn’t sitting right. about whether he even wants to go to the next session he has lined up.
and then—he sees you.
just down the block, wired headphones plugged into your ears as you walk towards a small coffee shop.
it takes him half a second too long for him to register it. he slows before stopping in his place on the scorching sidewalk just to be sure.
same walk. same unintentional confidence—like you're not trying to be noticed, which somehow makes you stand out more. your outfit catches his attention again without effort. something light, slightly different from the first time he saw you, but still you.
skirt again—of course. not the same one, but same idea.
he notices that. he notices everything.
you push the door open to the shop before disappearing inside. and for a second—he considers just letting you go, letting the roadside interaction stay that way, a one time street kind of thing that didn't need to turn into anything else.
he exhaled quietly before shaking his head, "yeah, no." he changed his direction subtly like he was always going that way.
by the time he reaches the door, he's already composed again. no rush or urgency in him, just the same steady stride he always carried around.
inside the cafe, it’s quieter than the street. low music, soft conversations, and the smell of coffee swirled in the air.
he scans the space once and it doesn't take long for him to find you, standing near the counter, slightly turned away, looking up at the menu like you're stuck deciding between the same two things.
he watches you for a second. not long, but enough. and suddenly, there's that feeling again rising up in his chest.
he steps into line behind you—close enough to matter, not close enough to be obvious. he lets the moment build naturally. of course he does. he lets you stay unaware just a second longer.
then, as you shift your weight and turn slightly back—he steps forward at the exact right time. light contact, your shoulder to his chest. just enough to capture your attention.
"oh, sorry—" you say automatically before looking up. it took a moment for you to process that the same, gorgeous man who jumped your car last week was the one currently blocking your vision.
he tilts his head slightly, like he’s just as surprised. “well,” he says, calm, almost amused, “this is becoming a pattern.”
you blinked. "you... helped me with my car."
"i did," he agrees. "and now apparently i'm following you around LA."
you narrow your eyes slightly. "are you?"
he puts a hand over his chest, mock offended but calm. “i prefer ‘running into you repeatedly by tragic coincidence.’”
that earns a laugh from you, the first real one between you. the barista calls you next in line, and he trails behind you like you're a couple ordering together. his presence alone makes your heart thump against your chest.
the barista takes your order and before you can even unzip your purse to pay, you already see a large hand coming from behind you, inserting a card in the machine.
the barista hands the man behind you the receipt and you turn around abruptly, tilting your head up to fully face him as you both drift away from the register. "i can pay for myself," you said.
"i know," he says simply.
"i was supposed to pay," you corrected as you picked up your freshly made coffee order.
"why?" he asked genuinely, tilting his head to match the angle of yours. it sent a light pink blush up your cheeks.
you look at him like the answer is obvious. "because you jumped my car."
his eyebrows pulled together. "that was like five minutes of my time."
you all but blinked, suddenly at a loss of words under the intense gaze of this mysterious, confident man.
he begins to walk towards a table and you follow him, still protesting under your breath. "that doesn't mean you get to—"
“get to what?” he glances back at you, sunglasses now off, and it’s worse without them in a way—more direct, more readable. more of his perfectly chiseled face exposed to you. “buy you coffee?”
you open your mouth, then close it. because the way he said it made it sound ridiculous to argue.
you both end up choosing a table by the window. endless blue, moving slowly under the late afternoon sun. a few people pass by on bikes, others walking along the sidewalk with iced coffees in hand, like time moves differently here.
not sat too close to him, not too far—just enough space that it could still be casual if either of you decided to pretend it was.
“so, what do you do?” you ask finally, wrapping your hands around the cup.
he leans back slightly in his chair. “music.”
“that’s vague.”
“it's intentional.”
you give him a look. “oh, so you’re mysterious.”
“i’m tired,” he corrects lightly, a smirk of amusement tugging at his lips. “there’s a difference.”
that makes you smile. “what, like a band?” you press.
“no,” he says. “behind the scenes.”
“oh.” you tilt your head. “like a manager?”
he pauses for a moment. "something like that."
it wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the truth either. you nod like you accept that answer, but the curiosity doesn't go away.
“and you?” he asks.
you almost laugh. “i don’t do music.”
“didn’t say you did.”
“i mean…” you gesture vaguely. “nothing like that. i work. i live on the edge of LA where nothing interesting happens.”
his gaze holds on you a second longer than necessary. "that’s not true,” he says.
you frown slightly. “you don’t even know me.”
“i know you broke down on the side of a road in peak heat and didn’t immediately panic,” he says. “that tells me something.”
"like what?"
"that you're stubborn," he replies calmly.
you lean forward a little, eyes analyzing his expression. "that's not a compliment."
“it can be,” he says. “depends who it’s about.”
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
you and him slip into easy conversation—half started stories, simple questions, the kind of conversation that doesn't feel like you're trying too hard.
you're mid-sentence, explaining something about where you live—how everything feels slower out there—when he interrupts you, but gently. “how old are you?”
you pause, caught off guard. “that’s random.”
“it’s relevant,” he says, like that should be obvious.
“to what?”
he lifts his cup slightly, studying you over the rim for a second before answering. “to how seriously i should be taking you.”
your eyebrows lift immediately. “excuse me?”
there’s a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “i’m kidding,” he says, calm, unbothered. “mostly.”
you shake your head, trying not to smile. “twenty four.”
he nods once, like he expected that. “yeah,” he murmurs.
“yeah what?” you press.
“nothing,” he says, setting his cup down. “it makes sense.”
“that’s so annoying,” you say. “you don’t get to say that and not explain.”
“i just did.”
“no, you didn’t.”
he leans back slightly, relaxed, completely comfortable letting you be a little frustrated. “you carry yourself younger at times,” he says. “but not in a bad way.”
you narrow your eyes. “that still feels like an insult.”
“it’s not,” he says, softer now. “it’s honest.”
you look at him for a second longer than you mean to. “okay,” you say quietly. “then how old are you?”
he doesn’t answer right away. instead, he tilts his head slightly, watching you like he’s deciding how much to give. “what do you think?” he asks.
you study him now, more deliberately. he doesn’t look older, not really. no obvious lines, no tiredness. and of course, he looks put together in a way most guys your age aren’t.
“twenty-seven,” you say finally. “maybe twenty-eight.”
he lets out a soft laugh—low, almost under his breath.
you frown immediately. “what?”
“nothing,” he says, shaking his head slightly with amusement.
“no, what?”
“you’re off,” he says.
“by how much?”
he pauses, then shrugs like it doesn’t matter. “enough.”
“that’s not an answer,” you says leaning forward closer now.
“it is,” he replies calmly. “just not one you like.”
you stare at him, half-annoyed, half-curious. “you’re not going to tell me?”
“not yet.”
your eyes narrow. “why?”
he meets your gaze fully this time. “because i want to see if it changes anything for you.”
you lean back slightly, thrown off in a way you don't show completely. “why would it?” you ask.
he shrugs after a small pause. he glances down at your cup. “you drink your coffee too slow, by the way.”
your mouth falls open a little as the moment quickly softens again. “oh my god.”
“just saying.”
“you’re unbelievable.”
“and you’re still here,” he points out lightly.
the conversation drifts again after that, easier now. you talk more without meaning to—little things, fragments of your life. he listens in a way that feels attentive, but not invasive. like he’s not collecting information, just understanding your pace.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
you both drift toward the door without really deciding to. the conversation doesn’t end—it just slows, like both of you are aware it has to, eventually.
outside, the afternoon has softened. the heat isn’t as sharp anymore, but it’s still there, hanging in the air between you.
you shift your weight slightly, glancing down the street, then back at him. “this was…” you start, then stop, like you don't want to overdefine it. he watches you, gazed fixed on you patiently.
“unexpected,” you continue on.
he nods once. “yeah.”
“i still owe you,” you say.
he glances down at you. “you don’t.”
“i do.”
“you don’t,” he repeats, softer but final. but after a small beat, “if it makes you feel better, you can get the next one.”
you narrows your eyes. “there’s going to be a next one?”
he paused again, but only for a fraction of a second too long before he shrugged slightly like it was nothing. "if you break down again, i might start thinking it's planned."
you rolled your eyes, but a smile pulled helplessly at your lips. as you stepped out into the light of the sun, you realized two things at once. this man still hadn't told you who he is or his name, and that you somehow already agreed to see him again.
"let me see your phone," he said lowly, pulling his sunglasses over his eyes once again. it wasn't really a question.
and so you reached into your pocket, pulling out your phone, and without asking—he takes your hand gently, turning your palm slightly towards his. the faintest brush of his fingers sent an unexpected warmth up your arm in a way you couldn't ignore.
he picked up your phone that now seemed so small in his hands, typing something quickly before handing your phone back. you looked down at your screen, squinty slightly from the sun.
his name. a number.
joon 213-555-0010
when you look back up at him, he's already watching you—unreadable in a way that sent a pink flush throughout your cheeks.
"joon," you said, like you needed to say his name out loud. like you knew it was just a nickname.
he simply nodded, something small like a smile tugging at his lips from the sound of you hearing his name. "yeah."
he paused, low eyes peering above his sunglasses as he looked at you closely. "you gonna tell me yours?" he asked lowly, the baritone of his voice hitting a little too close.
so you told him, and he repeated it a few times under his breath like he had to let it sink on his tongue. "y/n," he said finally, voice quieter than usual. "pretty name for a pretty girl."
your eyes couldn't help but widely slightly at his bold words, the pink on your face turning into a deep red.
a small pause filled the air before you swallowed, trying your best to lock in your confidence in front of this man. "you didn't ask for my number," you said.
"i know."
"that's a little backwards."
"not really."
you titled your head. "why?"
he took a step back, giving you just a little more space. "because now it's your choice."
you study him for a second, like you're trying to figure out if this is some kind of game. some kind of reality tv show where they prank you with some hot mysterious man. but it didn't feel like one.
"and if i don't text you?" you ask.
a small pause before he shrugged easily. "then i'll assume you didn't want to." but his tone didn't have any pressure or persuasion in it.
"confident," you mutter.
"selective," he corrected.
you almost rolled your eyes—but you don't quite let it happen. he glances past you for a second, like he's remembering that he actually has somewhere to be. then, they quickly averted back to you.
"if you do," he continues, quieter now. "don't over think it."
you let a small laugh. "too late."
that earns a small smile from him, dimples tugging at his cheeks in a way you noticed immediately. "i figured."
another pause before he steps back swiftly, like he's deciding that he couldn't stay any longer than necessary—even if he wanted to. "i'll see you around," he says, for the second time.
before you can respond, he's already turning and stepping away, suddenly gone in the same effortless and casual way he arrived.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
that night, you tell yourself you're not going to think about him.
and you failed immediately.
you failed when you went to dinner with your friends, when you did chores around your house; in the shower and when you laid in your own bed that night—the bed that was supposed to make your thoughts go away. it was the small things at first.
the way he didn’t rush anything. the way he answered questions without really answering them. the way he looked at you like he already understood something you hadn’t said out loud yet.
and as the night continued on, the bigger things settled in your brain, making heat shamefully pool between your legs.
he didn't ask for your number. he didn't try to lock you in. instead, he just left his number with you.
who is he?
your phone sat next to you with the screen dark and off, but it felt louder than anything else in the room. you fell into a cycle of picking it up and putting it back down.
finally, you picked it up again, finding his contact. you flipped it shut, sucking in a sharp breath at the thought of messaging him. you found your thumbs typing, deleting, then typing something again.
you exhale softly, leaning back against your pillow trying your hardest not to overthink it, his voice replaying in the back of your head.
he wasn't some typical guy—you could tell in the way he carried himself. he walked casually, but with assurance. he dressed with stride, but still managed to blend in. he talked with confidence, and every line was coated with experience.
so now, it wasn't just about texting him. it's about what it would mean if you did. because somehow, after one roadside encounter and a cup of coffee—you already wanted more than you should have.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
namjoon's drive back was quiet. not because he wanted it to be—but because nothing else fit how he felt at the moment.
not even any of his music.
he had driven these streets thousands of times. the same turns, the same streets, the same palm trees. usually his mind is somewhere else entirely—work, mixes, deadlines, people who expect things from him.
but not tonight. because tonight, it kept circling back to you.
it all kept replaying in his head—the way you looked at him like you were trying to figure him out. he noticed the way you didn't try too hard. you didn't perform like everyone else in LA.
you didn't know what he is, who he is, or what kind of world he's involved in.
that was the part that was stuck in namjoon's head so deeply. because most people that meet him are already adjusted to him—already well aware, careful with their words and their tones, their intentions.
but you certainly weren't.
because you argued with him. you rolled your eyes and called him annoying. and you meant all of it.
a faint smile pulled at his mouth as he came to a stop at a red light. "twenty-seven," he muttered to himself, shaking his head and laughing slightly.
but still, you didn't hesitate.
he pulls into his place, kills the engine, but doesn’t get out right away. he glances at his phone, sitting in the center console of his car, dark and quiet.
but he doesn't reach for it. because namjoon was a patient man—he always had been. in work, in life, in everything that mattered.
once he gets inside his spacious, sleek home, he dropped his keys on the counter, running a hand through his hair, exhaling.
namjoon had been with plenty of women before. older, younger—in his world and outside of it. he always knows how it goes. he knows how to keep it light and uncomplicated.
but this didn't feel like that. because it felt like something that could get complicated. but instead of pushing it away like he normally would, he leaned into it. just a little.
an hour passes. then two.
namjoon tells himself he's not checking his phone. but it turns out to be a lie, because throughout night—he checks it without picking it up. glancing every time he walks past, like it might light up if he looks long enough. but it doesn't.
he tells himself to relax, that you have a life or that you might not be interested at all. but still—he wonders what you're up to. if you're thinking about him the way he's thinking about you. if you're overanalyzing that moment outside of the coffee shop.
suddenly, his phone buzzed. he doesn't look right away. he just looked at it before reading the unsaved number, no name attached. he picks it up and opens it almost immediately.
unknown: do you always leave girls with this much pressure or am i just special?
he lets out a quiet breath—half a laugh of amusement, half something else. there you finally were, exactly the way he had anticipated. he begins to type before he stops and quickly deletes it.
he leans back against the counter, thinking—not about what to say, but about how much he should give. because namjoon didn't want to rush this. he didn't want to come on too strong.
but he couldn't pretend that he was unaffected either, because he most certainly couldn't even if he wanted to. not with you.
he types again, this time sending it.
him: i was starting to think you wouldn't.
he watches the screen for a second longer than necessary, saving your contact before setting his phone down. it wasn't far, but it was just enough. because now, you know that he was waiting too.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
you exhale softy, rolling onto your back with a smile that couldn't help but tug at your lips.
you: oh so you were waiting
a pause settled on the screen before the typing bubble popped up again.
joon: i was curious
you: that sounds like a more mysterious way of saying waiting
joon: you can call it whatever makes you feel better
and now, you definitely smiled at that. because he was already doing that thing again—side stepping without hesitation.
you: you're too difficult to read
joon: you're trying too hard then
you: i think you're just confusing
joon: only for you sweetheart
you actually laugh out loud at that, shaking your head and ignoring the way the nickname made pink tint your cheeks.
you: wow
so is this how you talk to every girl you buy coffee for?
his reply comes faster this time.
joon: i don't buy anyone coffee
you: good answer
joon: an honest one
what are you doing right now?
you glanced around your room like he could somehow see.
you: nothing important
joon: doesn’t sound convincing
you: i could say the same about you
joon: i’m working
you: doing your very mysterious job?
joon: still stuck on that?
you: a little
joon: you'll figure it out eventually
you bit your lip slightly, thinking of an answer.
you: you're very sure i'm going to stick around long enough to figure it out
joon: aren't you?
your heart does that annoying little jump again, and you don't answer right away. and he doesn't send anything else. instead, he waits. three minutes later;
you: maybe
joon: that's a start
another painfully long beat passes before your cellphone vibrates again.
joon: you busy tomorrow night?
you stare at the message, blinking twice to make sure you read it right. but somehow, half of you wasn't surprised. you were practically waiting in a way you couldn't admit. but the other half was incredibly in shock.
you started to type.. deleted it.. then typed again.
you: depends
what are you planning?
joon: something better than coffee
you smiled immediately, even though you tried not to.
you: that's a little confident
joon: doesn't seem like you hate it
you: i don't
joon: good
a pause settled on the screen again.
joon: 8?
you exhaled slowly, the reality creeping in as you stared at the screen. you were really going to go on a date with this man. the same, confident and attractive man that had jumped your car and saved your day. the same man who's age and job you couldn't quite detect.
you: okay
joon: i'll pick you up
don't overthink it
you rolled your eyes, smiling.
you: too late
joon: i know
and just like that, with one text conversation, it definitely was more than just a street thing.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
you almost regret saying yes the moment you hear a car pull up outside, engine rumbling lowly outside your apartment window.
not because you didn't want to go, of course. but because now, it's real.
you check yourself in the mirror one last time, smoothing the bumps in your hair and coating your lips with gloss one last time. simple, but intentional. something that said you tried... but didn't try too hard.
your phone buzzed.
joon: i'm outside
when you step out, you see the car first. the same sleek and clean car that had pulled over in front of you on that busy highway engulfed in heat.
then him.
leaning slightly agains the driver's side door, towering over the car with his sleeves pushed up, looking like he's only been there for a minute—but completely settled anyway. he wore a costly-looking dress shirt, glimmering chain around his neck and a sparkling watch wrapped around his built arm. you swallowed hard.
his eyes flick up from the ground immediately when he notices you. and for a second, he just looks at you. completely, unashamedly taking you in with his eyes slowly.
"yeah..." he says lowly, dragging his lips ever so quickly along his lips as you approached him, heels clicking beneath you. "you're going to be a problem tonight."
you couldn't ignore the heat that sent down your spine, but you simply peered up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently. "aren't i always?"
"i haven't seen you always," he replied.
you rolled your eyes, but a small smile pulled at your lips anyway. then, he stepped back, opening the door for you. you don't the miss the way he does it without hesitation. and when you sit inside, you don't miss the way his gaze burns into you before closing your door.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
the drive was easy, music low in the background, city lights coming to life as the sun started to dip below the horizon.
namjoon doesn't fill every silence—and somehow it makes it easier for you to talk.
"so where are you taking me?" you ask eventually.
"you'll see," he says casually, one hand on the steering wheel while the other rested between you.
"that's not helpful."
"it's not supposed to be."
you shook your head, smiling out the window. he pulls up to a restaurant that sits right by everything—the beach, the water, and the city. it was definitely upscale, but nothing intimidating.
inside, the lighting is warm yet dim, swift music playing and low conversations humming.
you were seated quickly. no waiting or confusion. you didn't quite realize the line of people who were standing for a table, and how you and him were able to breeze right past it.
when you arrive to your seat, it's right in front of the window, city lights and palm trees stretching on the glass in front of you. he pulls your seat out for you, helping you take off your coat and placing it along your chair.
after you place your orders, the conversation flows faster this time. less guarded, and more natural.
"so," he says, leaning back in his chair slightly. "what do you actually do?"
you sigh softly, like you already know the answer isn't impressive, even compared to his incredibly vague one. "i’m a waitress," you say. "nothing exciting."
he watches you for a second. "you keep saying that."
"because it's true."
"or because you think it's supposed to be."
that made you pause. "it's not exactly... impressive," you admitted.
he shrugs lightly. "most things that are don't matter."
you let out a small breath, like you didn’t expect that answer. “you always talk like that?” you ask.
“like what?”
“like you know something i don’t.”
a small smirk pulls at his mouth. “sometimes i do.”
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
you and namjoon are laughing a few minutes later—about something small and stupid—and it feels easy. too easy.
the song currently playing comes to an end and the music shifts. a different song comes on—smooth, familiar, something that's even playing everywhere recently.
you perked up immediately. "oh my god, i love this song."
he stills ever so slightly. it's quick and barely noticeable, but there's a flicker of something across his face. he glances down at the table, then back up at you. "yeah?" he asks, casual.
"yeah," you nod, smiling. "it's so good."
he hums in response, leaning back in his seat like it's just background noise. "not bad."
you narrow your eyes slightly. "not bad?"
he shrugs. "it's alright."
you laugh. "you're impossible."
and he doesn't argue. but there's a faint smirk but he doesn't fully hide this time.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
the dinner stretches longer than you expected. because neither of you seem to be in a rush to end it.
by the time the check comes, you reach for it instinctively. because at the cafe, he said he would let you get it this time.
but he's faster. of course he is.
"you don't have to—" you start.
"i know."
"that's not fair," you protest.
"it doesn't have to be," he said.
you sigh, but you're already smiling again.
as he hands the card over, the server pauses. "sorry," the server says, almost hesitant. "are you... are you—namjoon—"
namjoon already knows what's coming. he exhales softly, not annoyed at all, just used to it. "yeah," he says with a polite smile. you blinked.
"sorry- i thought so. i didn't want to assume."
he gives a small, reassuring nod.
"do you think i could-" the server gestures awkwardly. "just like, a quick autograph? my brother and i are huge fans."
you completely froze.
fan?
huge?
he doesn't make it a big deal. "yeah, no problem," he says, like it was normal. like this happens all the time. because it does.
he signs something quickly, hands it back with a polite smile.
"thank you—i appreciate it. you two have a great night," the server said before walking off.
silence settled between you for the brief a second. you were completely staring at him now, trying to control your facial expressions as you processed what just happened.
"you didn't tell me that happens to you," you said.
"i didn't think it mattered," he replied casually.
"well," you said slowly. "what exactly do you do?"
there it was. the question he definitely couldn't avoid this time. he leans back slightly, studying your expression. it was curious, but not intimidated or totally impressed. just curious.
"i told you," he said. "music."
you shook your head. "no, you said behind the scenes."
he huffed a small breath, close to a laugh before he paused. "i produce," he said finally. it was simple and direct—no bragging or boasting.
you blink again. "like... that song?"
a beat passes for a small moment before he nods once. "yeah."
and now, the air between you shifted. because now you knew; he wasn't just some guy who stopped to help you on the side of the road.
and somehow, it almost made things worse. because now, you had to figure out why he's here... with you.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
the air outside feels cooler than before. or maybe it’s just because of the way everything shifted inside.
namjoon pushes the door open for you, stepping slightly to the side to let you walk out first—but as you pass, his hand settles lightly at the small of your back.
guiding. not grabbing or lingering too long. just there, resting on your back. it's subtle, but you can feel the intention seeping through you, especially in the way it instantly sends a shiver up your back.
your steps slow for half a second—not enough for him to comment on, but enough for you to notice yourself.
but he notices too.
you both walk a few steps in the parking lot in silence. it wasn't awkward, it was just both of you recollecting the entire night—including who he really was.
“so,” you say finally, glancing over at him, tone light like nothing’s changed, “you’re kind of a big deal, namjoon.”
he exhales a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “no.”
“that guy literally asked you for an autograph.”
“that happens sometimes.”
you narrow your eyes. “that’s not normal.”
“it is for me,” he says simply. it wasn't cocky or defensive, just the honest truth. it should've been intimidating. but you didn't let it land that way.
you shrugged slightly. "okay. but that still doesn't mean i'm impressed."
there's a pause before he looks at you—really looks this time. and something shifts in his eyes, subtle but sharper. more interested and intrigued by the young woman standing before him.
"good," he said lowly.
you blinked. "good?"
“i’d be a little concerned if you were.”
your lips press together slightly, trying not to smile. “you’re unbelievable.”
“i’ve been told.”
you both reach his car, but neither of you move to get in right away. he leans back against it slightly, arms relaxed and eyes fixed on you.
you cross your arms again. not closed off, just grounding yourself under his gaze. "so you just... make songs people know?"
"sometimes," he said with a shrug.
"ugh, that's such a non-answer."
his lips fought a smile at your remark. "it's an accurate one."
you shook your head, a small laugh escaping you. "you're so annoying."
"but you keep talking to me," he points out.
you finally glance up at him fully, and for a second, the eye contact lingers for a moment too long. it causes you to look away first, pink tinting your cheeks.
and namjoon notices everything.
the way you're holding eye contact a little less now. the way you're slightly more aware of yourself. the way you're trying not to let it change anything. but it doesn’t turn him off—it only pulls him in more.
“you got quiet,” he says.
“i didn’t.”
“you did.”
you look away for a second, then back at him. “i’m just thinking.”
“about?”
you hesitate. “nothing,” you say.
he tilts his head slightly, unconvinced—but he doesn’t push. instead, he steps a little closer. not enough to crowd you, but enough to spark the energy in the space between you even more.
“you’re doing that thing,” he comments quietly, eyes trailing up and down your figure.
your brows knit. “what thing?”
“trying to act like nothing changed.”
your stomach flips—annoyingly and immediate. “because nothing did,” you said.
a pause fills the air. he studies your face, like he’s deciding whether to call it out further. “alright,” he says finally.
you exhale softly. “you’re not going to say anything else?”
“i don’t need to.”
“that’s so—” you cut yourself off, shaking your head.
he watches you, a faint smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth now. “say it,” he murmurs.
you look at him, trying not to react to the way his voice dropped slightly. “it’s just… a lot,” you admit.
your answer was too honest for your liking, yet he didn't laugh or dismiss it. "yeah," he said quietly. "it can be."
a beat passed. "but i'm still the same guy you had coffee with," he said softly. and those words land, harder than anything else he's said.
you study him for a second, searching for something—ego, arrogance, anything that would make this easier to categorize.
but you don’t find it. instead, you're only able to find that same calm, steady version of him. the one who stopped his car for you. the one who let you decide whether to text him. the one who didn’t even bother to impress you.
“…okay,” you say finally. and you mean it.
there was a small shift in the air between you, the tension softening— but not totally disappearing.
“so,” he says, pushing off the car slightly, “you still letting me drive you home?”
you raise an eyebrow. “do i have a choice?”
“you always have a choice,” he said. a beat passes. "but i’d prefer if you said yes," he confessed playfully.
you huffs out a quiet laugh. “you’re very subtle.”
“i try.”
and for the second time that night, namjoon opens the passenger door for you. and this time, when you got in, it felt different; reality swirling around you and settling into your head.
the drive back was quieter than the one there. it wasn't awkward or empty—just filled with unspoken words and incredibly thick tension.
his gaze was fixed on the road, but you couldn't ignore the way you caught him glancing over at you multiple times in the corner of your eye. the music is low, humming softly through the speakers before another song comes on.
you glance over at the console, then over at him. "did you make this one too?" you ask, half teasing.
he doesn't look at you right away, a smirk pulling at his lips, leaving a sharp shadow along his jaw. "maybe."
you roll your eyes, fully smiling now. "you're never going to give me a straight answer, are you?"
"not all at once, pretty girl."
there it is again. not just the nickname that sent heat through your spine and in between your legs—but that confident, indirect promise of you sticking around long enough to unlock every thing about him.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
you're looking out the window, surrounded by the kind of silence that makes everything feel more noticeable. but you're not really seeing or looking at anything, because you're too aware.
too aware of namjoon. the way he drives—one veiny hand on the wheel, relaxed but precise. the way the scent of his expensive cologne and shampoo made your knees weaken. the way he continues to glance over every now and then, quick, like he’s checking something without making it obvious.
you shift slightly in your seat every time he does.
suddenly, his hand moves from the wheel for just a second—resting briefly against the center console as he adjusts his grip. but through that movement, his large fingers brush lightly against your thigh.
he dragged them ever so softly on your thigh for what felt like forever—but only lasted two seconds—before moving his hand back to the center console. his fingers were barely there, not lingering or deliberate enough to call out. but it wasn't exactly accidental enough to ignore either.
your breath catches for just a second, but he doesn't react or apologize. he doesn't even look at you, and somehow that makes it worse.
you swallow hard, turning your head slightly towards the window again. but now you're even more hyper-aware of the space between you. your heart was doing something very annoying again, and you knew it.
he knew it.
he slows the car as you reach your place, parking smoothly before killing the engine. and just like that, everything went still.
neither of you moved right away. you looked down at your hands, then back up like you were about to say something. but you didn't.
he simply watches you for a second, less teasing in his eyes and more focus. he took in every inch of you, sitting so still and pretty in his car. looking at him like he was still the same guy who jumped your car, not like he was a guy who made every hit song. "you got quiet again," he says softly.
you let out a small breath. "you keep saying that."
"because you keep doing it."
you glance at him. this time, you don't look away immediately. "i'm just thinking."
"dangerous," he murmurs, pulling a small smile from you.
you reach for the door handle. "thanks for dinner," you say, like you're trying to keep it normal.
"yeah," he replies with a soft smile.
you open the door, stepping out thinking that the night is wrapped up. that he'll pull away and let you go. but then, you hear his door open too.
he rounds the front of the car, meeting you halfway up the short path to your door. he took his time not rushing—because he never did.
when you stop in front of your door, you turn to face him. and suddenly, it's close. closer than it's been all night. there wasn't a table, a center console, or any distractions now. just him, towering over you and filling your entire vision with nothing but him. his musky cologne quickly filled your nostrils, throwing your mind off balance.
"you don't have to walk me up," you say quietly, close to a whisper.
"i know," he says. but he doesn't step back.
a long pause fills the air, stretching long enough for the tension to feel intentional. his gaze drops briefly, to your lips—then back up to your eyes.
your breath catches again, softer now. but you were too close for namjoon to not notice it. "are you always this—" you start, then stop.
"this what?" he asks lowly, clenching his jaw ever so slightly at the mere sight of you fumbling with your words in front of him.
you shake your head slightly. "i don't even know."
a faint smile pulls at his mouth. "good." he took another step closer, not enough to trap you, but enough for the warmth of his body to wrap around you.
then, his hand lifts, hesitating for half a second before gently tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. he does it carefully, like he was giving you all the time in the world to pull away. but you didn't.
"you're overthinking again," he murmurs, low eyes scanning every inch of your face.
your voice comes out quieter than you expect. "you keep saying that like it helps."
"it does," he suggests casually.
"how?"
he leans in barely. he doesn't completely close the distance between you, but it was enough to send a bolt of warmth down your body. "because you're still here."
you tilt your head up just a little, before he leans in just a sliver more. and for a second, the moment is right there, sitting heavy in the little distance there was between you.
and then, he stops. just barely, coming to a small still when you could practically feel his breath on you. just enough that it didn't happen.
your eyes flicker across his face, confused, a little breathless. he watches your reaction carefully, low eyes trained onto your every movement.
and suddenly, there's that faint smirk again—but it's softer; barely there and more restrained than usual in a way you almost didn't catch.
"goodnight, doll," he said lowly. "sleep well."
like nothing had almost just happened.
he steps back, ripping the thick air that had just sat between you like a third person. breaking it and leaving you there standing with it.
“you’re—” you start, but you don't even know what to call him.
he tilts his head slightly, licking his lips and averting his gaze down you one last time. “what?”
you exhale half-laugh and half-frustration. “annoying.”
he smiles, dimples pulling at his cheeks. “i know," he says, before turning around and walking back to his car.
from the doorstep, you watch him get in, turn on the engine, and leave. leaving you there with more thoughts than your racing heart could keep up with and a miserable dampness in your panties.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
namjoon's place is quiet again. too quiet.
he tosses his keys down, walks a few steps in, then stops—like his body forgot what he was about to do.
because his mind was entirely somewhere else.
it was still at your door. still immersed into that moment.
he leans back against his kitchen counter, exhaling. he's replaying everything now, like dinner—the way you didn't switch up when you found out what he did. you weren't suddenly impressed or started asking the wrong questions.
you stayed the same. maybe you were a little quieter, a tad bit more aware. but you didn't completely fold.
that absolutely sat under namjoon's skin now. he was completely enamored by you, and didn't want to pull a girl like you into his chaotic world. didn't want you to adjust to him because of who he was, like most people did.
but you didn't. you just took it in, and kept going. you stayed exactly the same—you still called him annoying and told him he wasn't impressive.
he looks at his phone sitting a few feet away. he already gave you control once. he let you decide whether or not to text him, to decide if it was going to go anywhere or not.
but he wasn't going to do that tonight.
him: you always look at people like that or was that just for me?
he sets the phone down, but not far. because you've consumed every inch of his mind again without even trying to. he thinks about the your eyes dropped to his lips, the way you didn't pull away.
his jaw tightened slightly. he knew he was in trouble.
his phone lit up again.
her: like what?
he lets out a quiet breath, a smile pulling at his lips. the way you played it off, like you always did, made him only want more. made him think that maybe he should've kissed you right then and there—should've forgot about being a man and taking his time with you and—
he slowly took in a deep breath through his nose, dragging a hand across his face.
him: like you were about to do something you'd regret
her: don't know if i'd call it regret
namjoon liked that a little too much, licking his lips and leaning back. because now, he knows you felt it too.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
a few days and several text conversations later, namjoon sends you a text on a night he knows you're not working. no question or explanation, just;
joon: be ready at 7
when he picks you up, the air already shifts when you walk outside. it was in the way he looked at you, slow and deliberate, like he wasn't hiding it at all anymore. he takes his time, eyes trailing from your shoes, to the way your skirt falls, the jewelry at your wrist, to your face.
"you always dress like this, doll?" he asks lowly, stepping closer to you.
you raise an eyebrow, ignoring the way the name made your brain feel like mush. "like what?"
"like you knew exactly what you were doing when you picked that."
your lips pressed together slightly, trying not to smile. "maybe i did."
a faint smirk pulled at his lips. "yeah," he agreed. "i think you did."
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
the driver is longer, along the coast again. his tinted windows are cracked, music low with the sky fading into the darkest blue that only happens by the water.
you and namjoon talk, but it's far from that careful, first date way. the conversation flowed between you easily. you interrupted each other, went off on tangents. doubled back to things you both said earlier. like you both have done this together longer than you actually had.
when you arrive, the place is even more secluded than last time. a quiet overlook with soft lights and the ocean extending endlessly in front of you. the sound of waves clashed below in a way that was steady and grounding.
it felt private, like the rest of the world didn't exist here.
you and namjoon sit closer this time without question. dinner stretches and the conversation flows. you don't even discuss all the big things, but it's the way you talk about the small ones that makes it feel different.
you tell him about what hobbies you have, about your job—how it's routine, how people underestimate it, and how sometimes you feel stuck. and he doesn't brush it off or give you empty encouragement like most people did.
"you're not stuck," he corrected you firmly.
you scoff every is slightly. "that's easy for you to say."
"it's not about me," he replies softly. "you just need to find what you want."
you pout slightly in a way that makes his heart falter. "and you have?"
he pauses for half a second. "yeah." that same confidence remained in his tone, and for a second it felt like he might have been talking about something else.
at some point, his hand settles at the back of your chair. but this time, it stays. it wasn't touching you directly, but it was close enough to make you aware of it. aware of him.
you shift slightly and his slender fingers brush at your shoulders. they rest there for a second longer than necessary before pulling back. his warmth and his actions sent an unbearable heat between your legs.
after dinner, you both step away from the table, walking along the edge of the overlook. the night air is cooler now, ocean breeze slipping through you. you and him walk a little closer than before, shoulders lightly brushing with every few steps.
you wrapped your arms around you slightly, and his jacket is already around your shoulders before you can say anything.
you glance back at him, stopping in your steps to look at him properly. "you know... you're very sure of yourself."
"that bothers you?"
"no," you admit honestly. "it's just—different."
he pauses for a small moment. "from what you're used to?" he asks.
you nod slightly. he studies you for a second. "you're trying to figure out how old i am again."
your eyes widen slightly. "i'm not—"
"you are."
you exhale. "okay, maybe a little."
he lets your confession sit in the air before he nods slightly toward a couple walking past you two—a generation older than you, quieter, and settled. "you think i'm closer to them, or closer to you?" he asks.
you look back at the couple, then back at him. you really look at him, thinking about the way he carries himself. the way he speaks. the way he doesn't rush anything.
your expression shifts. "...okay," you say slowly. "how old are you?"
he pauses for longer than just a few seconds. "thirty-three," he answers finally.
you can't help but blink. once. twice. "...really?"
"yeah."
you study him again, like the answer didn't quite align with what you were seeing. "you don't look thirty-three."
"i know," he answered casually.
"that's kind of unfair," you said playfully.
he smiled softly. "i've heard that."
a quiet beat passes as namjoon watches you carefully, curiously watching your expression.
you shrug slightly. "okay."
he tilts his head. "that's all?"
"what?" you ask. "were you expecting something else?"
"most people... adjust," he stated.
you look at him deeply, peering up at him through your eyelashes. "well i'm not most people."
he steps closer, lightly closing the space between you. his scent filled your head once again, making your breath catch.
"yeah," he said lowly. "i noticed."
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
later, when you leave the restaurant together, you don't rush out. you never do.
namjoon walks slightly behind you first as you both headed towards the entrance, one hand finding its way onto the small of your back. it became natural now, something you didn't react to—externally, at least.
his hand was there, guiding you carefully down the steps.
two hostesses near the front glance up. then they glance at namjoon. then to you, then back at him.
a quick look exchanged between them followed by a few whispers and positive smiles. he catches it immediately. of course he does.
namjoon doesn’t look directly at them—he doesn’t acknowledge it—but there’s the faintest change in his expression. then his hand presses just slightly firmer at your back.
a quiet, almost instinctive gesture. not to show off. just to keep you close—and slightly focus the attention on you.
you don't notice the whispers, but you do notice the presence of his hand grow warmer. "what?" you ask, glancing back at him.
"nothing," he says easily.
the lights from the restaurant glowed behind you, the cool night air and a soft breeze coming off the water hitting you all at once.
there's a small set of marble steps leading down towards the parking area. you start down them without thinking—mind entirely captured by namjoon—and suddenly your heel catches slightly.
it's quick—barely a stumble, but it's enough to throw you off balance slightly. his large hands instantly find their way to your waist firmly, tightening his grip and steadying you before you could even process anything.
"careful, baby," he murmurs, low and close. the name slipping out like it had always belonged there.
you freeze for half a second, breath catching slightly before you steady yourself, hand instinctively brushing against his arm.
"I'm fine," you say, a little too quickly, beginning to continue a careful ascend down the steps and ignoring the heat on your cheeks.
namjoon however, doesn't move his hands right away. they linger on your waist a second longer than necessary, making sure you're fully balanced. "i know," he says calmly.
you look up at him, trying to play it off. "you don't have to—"
"i know," he cuts in softly.
and when you reach the bottom of the steps, his hand doesn't leave your back. it stays there, steady, guiding you towards his car like you're already part of his space.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
the drive back is quiet, the low vibration of the music and the city lights and palm trees flickering past practically lulling you to sleep.
and namjoon's presence, of course.
his large hand rested on the wheel, the other on the center console. close enough. by the minute, you swear it continues to get closer.
"tell me about him," namjoon says suddenly, the deep baritone of his voice making your thighs press together slightly.
you frown slightly from confusion. "about who?"
"your ex."
it catches you off guard. "...why?"
he shrugs lightly, sharp eyes still on the road. "i'm curious."
you hesitate before sighing. "he was..." you trailed off, trying to find the right word. "lazy."
half a second passed. "immature," you added. "didn't really pay attention to me unless it was convenient."
and as you talk, namjoon's jaw tightens slightly. it's subtle and controlled in a way you don't notice, but it's there.
"he just-" you shook your head slightly, looking out the window. "i don't know. it felt like I was always asking for the bare minimum."
for a long second, silence fills the car. namjoon's fingers tap once against the console. then, they shift. his hand moves unhurriedly, eventually finding its way to rest against your thigh, making a sharp bolt of warmth shoot down your body.
"yeah," he says finally, voice low and rough. "that sounds about right."
you glance at him. "what does that mean?"
he paused for a second. "guys your age," he continues, calm but edged with something sharper now. "they don't know what to do with a woman like you."
your stomach flips in a way that is impossible to ignore. "and you do?" you ask teasingly, trying to keep your tone steady.
his thumb shifts slightly against your thigh slightly. butterflies erupted in your stomach and your thighs shifted in a way you couldn't help, trying to disregard the heat between your legs.
"i wouldn't ignore you," he says simply.
the air in car seems to shift as you swallow hard, glancing out the window before looking back at him. "you barely know me."
"i know enough," he answers.
your breath catches slightly. namjoon's hand stays sat on your thigh steadily, like he knows exactly what it's doing to you.
"and i definitely wouldn't have you asking for anything," he adds. his words land deeper than they should, etching themselves into the back of your mind without asking.
you let out a quiet, almost nervous laugh. "you're very confident."
"i'm honest," he says. he pauses for a moment. then, his voice drops just a little—"big difference."
you look at him again, thoroughly scanning his face this time. "you always talk like that?" you ask.
"only when i mean it."
another silence settles between you, this time sitting thick; heavy with everything both of you haven't said. his hand finally shifts, but not away from you. it only slides higher along your thigh before settling again.
"relax, doll," he murmurs softly, voice low and deep.
you exhale slowly, trying to steady yourself. "you're doing that on purpose."
"doing what?"
you shake your head slightly. "you know exactly what."
a faint smirk pulls at his lips. "yeah," he answers. "i do."
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
suddenly, the rest of the drive feels too short.
namjoon pulls to your curb, parking swiftly with one hand before cutting the engine. silence fills the space, neither of you reaching for the door immediately.
you look down at your hands, then back up, like you're about to say something—but the words don't come as easily now. because everything, from the restaurant, the drive is still sitting in between you. his hand, his voice. doll.
"you got quiet again," he says softly.
you let out a small breath. "you make it hard not to."
he stills ever so slightly, like your words had pulled something out of him. "do i?" he asks.
you look at him, holding his intense gaze this time. "yeah."
he pauses for longer than normal, eventually moving his hand before his mouth. he starts slow—not to your thigh this time—but higher. his fingers lift, brushing lightly along your jaw. just the tips, tracing the line like he needed to memorize it.
your breath catches immediately, peering up at him through your eyelashes as you seemingly couldn't look away from his face. he tilts his head slightly, watching your reaction closely.
"you always look like this when you're thinking?" he murmurs.
your voice comes out quieter than you expect. "like what?"
his thumb lingers beneath just beneath your chin for just a second. then it shifts slightly, guiding your face just enough so that you're looking directly at him and nothing else.
"like you're trying to figure out if this is a good idea," he says.
your heart practically stumbles. because he absolutely was right. "and?" you ask quietly.
a small smirk pulls at his mouth. but this one was softer, like it was more certainty than teasing. "i think you already decided," he murmurs. his gaze drops briefly, down to your lips, then back up again. this time, he doesn't even try to hide it.
"you're dangerous, you know that?" you say, barely above a whisper.
he leans in slightly, his scent taking over your lungs. "yeah?"
your breath is uneven now. "yeah."
his gaze drifts again, over your face, slower this time. fully taking you in. "you still thinking about the age thing?" he asks.
"no," you respond, holding the burning eye contact.
he studies you for half a second, like he's deciding if you're telling the truth. then, he exhales quietly, almost amusedly. "yeah," he says. "didn't think you would."
his hand lifts from your chin before resting lightly at your waist, thumb pressing just slightly before easing.
"probably better for you," he adds, voicer lower now, teasing but grounded in something real and deep, "if you didn't get used to someone like me."
your stomach flips instantly. "who says i'm getting used to you?" you shoot back, trying to play it off.
a smile tugs at his lips. "doll," he murmurs, softer and closer, the warmth of his breath hitting your neck. "you're already here."
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
a few days later, namjoon sends you an address located in the corner of a private street in LA telling you to meet him there. telling you that he wanted to show you something.
a building tucked slightly off the main road, close enough to the water that the air already feels different when you step out of the car.
you hesitate for a half a second before going in. not nervous, but just a little too aware of what you were walking into. with a few instructed taps on the door buzzer, you were let in.
inside, the hallway light is dim, soft lights lining the walls that were decorated with award cases, album posters, and framed vinyls. the floors were sleek and bass echoed through the walls.
you followed the sound the sound down the hallway, until you find a studio door that's slightly open. the gold plate on it reading, "kim namjoon" then below it, "head executive producer."
you exhale softly, heart slightly stopping at that and swallowing a little too hard before you push it gently, and that's when you see him.
sitting at the main console, leaning forward slightly, elbows resting near the soundboard. one hand adjusting a dial, the other resting against his chin like he's listening too closely.
he was so immersed that he hadn't noticed you yet.
the room was lowly lit—colored LEDS instead of overhead lights, the glow from the equipment reflecting softly against his face.
and there's something about him like this—focused, quiet, and completely in his element—that hits differently, making your stomach twist into a knot.
his sleeves are pushed up again, glistening watch catching the light as he moves his hand. a chain rests below his collar, barely visible, but sparkling in the light.
everything about him is so simple, but it fits him all too well. you don't mean to stare, but you definitely do.
and then, like he felt it—namjoon finally glances up. your eyes immediately meet, and you swear you felt a spark flash through your body.
for a split second, he doesn't say anything. he just looks at you, gaze taking you in deliberately.
then, he licks his lips so lightly you almost don't catch it. "you just going to stand there," he says, voice low and soft. "or are you coming in?"
you blink, snapping out of your trance slightly. "i-i didn't want to interrupt."
"you didn't," he replies easily. but his eyes linger on you for a second longer, almost like he knew you were watching him.
you step inside, softly closing the door behind you. the white lighting from the hallway had disappeared now, fully engulfing you into his world—his studio, his creative space—the place where he made every hit even possible. the big room suddenly felt smaller now, more private.
you look around, taking it all in. the walls are boarded with soundproof panels, and large speakers are placed around the sleek equipment. there's two chairs, a beanbag, and couch with folders of music sheets and lyrics scattered on the floor and on counter tops. "this is... really nice."
"mm," he hums, leaning back in his chair and spreading his legs slightly. "it works."
you glance at him. "you say everything like that."
"like what?"
"like it's not a big deal."
a faint smirk. "it's not."
you roll your eyes, but a smile tugs at your lips. he gestures towards the seat next to him. "come here." it wasn't a question.
you walk over, sitting beside him—closer than expected, immediately greeted by his warmth and the musk of his cologne.
he turns towards the console, grabbing a pair of high-end headphones. "listen to this," he says. he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear before carefully placing them over your head.
music plays—smooth and layered. it had no lyrics, but it was already catchy. you hummed in delight. "it's really good," you said softly, gently taking the headphones off.
"i know," he replies casually.
you laugh. "you're insufferable."
he glances at you, a smirk forming. "you're still here though."
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
after a few minutes of namjoon showing you some buttons, he glances at you. "you want to try something?"
you look at him, a bit hesitant. "like what?"
he shifts slightly, turning your chair just enough so that your angled more towards the board. "come on," he says, nodding towards the controls. "i'll show you."
"...i feel like i'm going to mess something up," you say.
"you won't."
"how do you know?"
he leans in slightly, his breath hitting your neck ever so slightly. "because i'm right here."
your stomach flips again. he reaches around you slightly, one hand bracing lightly against the edge of the console near you, the other guiding your hand toward a dial.
“turn this,” he says, voice lower now, near your ear.
you try to focus. you really do. but namjoon is close. too close. his warmth spilling all over you, hitting you in all the places that made your thighs pull closer together.
you turn the dial slowly—and immediately the sound distorts in a ridiculous way. you both pause.
"...was that supposed to happen?" you ask.
he stares at the board for a second before a short laugh escapes him, dimples tugging at his cheeks. "no," he says.
you burst out laughing. "i told you!"
he shakes his head with another laugh, reaching forward to fix it, his arm brushing yours again. "you didn't break it," he says. "relax."
"i definitely did something."
"you did," he replies with a smile. "just not what i said."
you laugh again, softer this time.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
you're standing now, not sitting anymore.
because namjoon told you to.
“stand here,” he said, guiding you lightly by the waist until you were in front of the soundboard. no asking, just placing you there. you stiffened under his touch that sent a light shock through you.
"relax, doll," he murmurs behind you. the deep baritone of his voice hitting a little too close.
you exhale slowly, trying to focus on the board in front of you—but it's hard when you can feel him right behind you. he steps in closer, practically pressing you together.
one hand reaches around you, bracing against the console. the other finds yours, fingers sliding over yours, adjusting your grip on one of the controls. "not like that," he says, low. "too quick."
"i'm not doing anything fast," you defend weakly, trying your best to sound steady.
you hear a quiet, almost amused exhale behind you. "yeah?" he murmurs deeply.
his chest brushes lightly against your back as he leans in closer, guiding your hand again—slower this time. "you rush when you're nervous."
"i'm not nervous."
"mm," he hums, unconvinced. his hand tightens slightly over yours, turning the dial with you. the sound shifts, smoother this time. "like that," he says.
but he doesn't move away, not even a little bit. you swallow, your body hyper-aware of every point of contact. his hand over yours, his chest behind you, his voice vibrating your ear. and you definitely tried to ignore something hard resting against your ass.
"you do this with everyone?" you ask.
"no," he answered simply.
at to that, your heart stumbled. his hand left yours, but only came to settle at your waist, firm and steady. in his grip he turned you slightly—not fully, but enough to turn your attention away from the board and onto him. "you're distracted again," he murmured.
you let out a soft breath. "you keep saying that like it's my fault."
a smirk pulls at his lips, one that you can practically hear in his voice. "doll," he says lowly, "you haven't been focused since you walked in."
your stomach flips as you turn your head slightly, giving just enough space to look back at him—but it's a mistake. because he's already looking at you, his face much closer than expected and barely any space left between you now.
"you always get like this?" he asks softly.
"like what?"
his gaze drops slowly, then back up again. "quiet." he pauses. "...when you feel something."
your breath catches. "you act like you know me," you say.
"i do," he replies casually. those words shouldn't hit you as hard as they do, but they do anyway—causing your heart to leap.
he shifts you fully this time, making you fully face him as his large hands still rested at your waist, thumbs pressing in ever so slightly.
"or maybe," he adds, voice quieter now. "you're just not used to someone who pays attention."
your chest rises slowly. "and you do?"
"to you?" he asks quietly, something flickering across his eyes. "of course i do."
a small pause. "i wouldn't ignore you," he mutters in your ear, breath hot down your neck in a way that makes your hairs stand up. his hand tightens slightly against you. "not like they did."
his words land, striking the base of your heart deeply. "and i definitely wouldn't have you guessing where you stand."
your breath is uneven now, but you can't seem to look away. "confident," you murmur.
"experienced," he corrects simply. his voice and his head dips lower just slightly—"difference is...i know how to treat a woman like you properly."
and suddenly the last thread holding you steady is already gone. you exhale softy, almost a laugh, but not quite. "you always talk like this?"
"only when i mean it."
silence fills the space around you, heavy and close. one of his hands lifts from your waist slowly before coming to your jaw and tracing along it deliberately, just like he did before.
his thumb sits at your chin, tilting your face up just slightly. it takes everything in you for your knees to not buckle right then and there, taking in his low, piercing gaze.
"you keep looking at me like that," you whisper.
"like what, hm?" he asks, voice low as he tilts his head lower, leaving little space between your noses. you felt like your whole world was spinning, trying to ground yourself properly without clinging onto him.
"like you're about to do something."
he pauses for a split second, licking his lips while his eyes practically swirled with darkness. then—low and certain—"i am."
and this time, namjoon doesn't stop himself. he leans in, fully closing the last bit of distance between you, crashing his lips onto yours. it's immediate—but not rushed. he kisses you slow, deep, like he's been holding it back for too long and finally had decided he was done.
you respond quickly, completely melting under the contact and moving your lips into his. your breath catches against his, one hand instinctively finding one of his big arms, while the other gripped on his shirt to steady yourself— because it hits you all at once.
the way he pulls you closer against him, one of his hands firmly settled at your waist while the other holds your head possessively, gently tilting your head at an angle that allowed him to kiss you deeper.
you lean into him without thinking—and he feels it, of course. he hooks his fingers around the belt loop of your denim skirt, pulling you even closer. the kiss deepens—but it isn't overwhelming. it's certain, like he wanted to take his time with his lips against yours.
your fingers tightened against him, causing him to exhale quietly against your lips, like he had been waiting for that exact response from you.
when you both pull back, you barely move an inch. foreheads close, breath uneven, and neither of you pulling away. his hands remain at your waist, yours still on him.
and after a second of catching your breath—namjoon leans in again. not because he's testing it anymore, but because he wants it—no, he needs it again. and you seem to meet him there just as fast.
his lips capture yours for the second time that night, practically taking your breath with him. your thighs press together slightly as you kiss him back, your hand sliding higher along his arm, gripping his bicep and pulling him closer without even realizing it.
his grip tightens slightly. "don't start something you can't finish, doll..." he murmurs quietly against your lips, voice rough.
the kiss suddenly shifts, not messy or rushed—but hungry. namjoon's hand slid shamelessly down your waist and onto your ass, sliding up and down its curve like it was already his.
that pulled a gasp out of you, and he saw it as the perfect opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. you allow him, opening your mouth more to let him further explore it with his tongue. your lips practically molded together, saliva mixing as he swirled his tongue around yours.
"look at you..." he mutters, barely pulling back, his thumb brushing your jaw again. "so responsive."
your stomach flips more times than you can count. "don't—" you start, breath uneven, but you can't even finish the sentence before you feel dampness between your legs.
"don't what, baby?" he asks lowly, smirking faintly against your lips. "don't notice you?"
he kisses you again before you can answer. his hand slides up from your ass, up your waist to your side—slower and more deliberate, before settling it there again, like he's grounding you there with him.
your grip on him tightens, deepening the kiss without intending to. "doll..." he murmurs, quietly now like it's a warning.
but he doesn't stop, and you most certainly don't want him to. all of a sudden namjoon is moving, guiding you back without breaking the kiss, step by step, until the back of your legs hit the couch.
you exhale softly in surprise—before you're sitting and he is too, pulling you with him. now, you find yourself on his lap—straddled on top of him with his hands firmly gripping your thighs and with everything much closer.
your hands find his broad shoulders, this time holding onto him like you desperately need to steady yourself, leaning into him once more. and namjoon notices, like he always does.
a low exhale leaves him, almost like a quiet laugh. "not pulling away anymore, are you, baby?" he murmurs, brushing his lips along your jaw slowly while his big palms drag up and down your thighs.
his plush lips trace the line of your jaw, littering soft kisses and your head tilts slightly to give him space without even thinking about it. "good," he praises quietly against your skin, lips trailing their way down your neck.
as he presses soft kisses along your neck, one of his hands presses a little firmer into your thigh, keeping you against him as the other rested gently at your neck—not enough to put pressure—but enough for your mind to go blank and make your thighs noticeably shift.
your breath hitches just above him, and his other hand soothes slowly against your thigh to steady you. "you have no idea..." he murmurs, lightly digging his teeth into your skin, making you shudder. "how hard i was trying to take my time with you."
your fingers tighten against him, struggling to ignore the unbearable ache in your core. "then why aren't you?" you manage softly, voice weaker than usual, knowing you didn't want that.
he paused for a moment, the warmth of his breath tingling down your neck and through your spine. his voice comes lower this time, but steadier. "because you stopped me from wanting to."
he pulls back just enough to look at you again, dark and low eyes trailing every inch of your face. his hand comes up, brushing your hair behind your ear slowly, slower than before.
"you're trouble, princess," he says lowly, another nickname rolling off his tongue with ease. "but i like it."
your breath is still uneven, your heart racing faster than your mind—but you don't look away. "good," you murmur.
namjoon's jaw tightens slightly at that—not in frustration, but in complete restraint. what's left of it, at least.
his hand that rested along your neck slid up, tilting your chin upwards with his thumb once again, making sure that you were really looking at him. "you sure about this, doll?" he asks lowly.
you nod without hesitation. "yes."
a small pause fills the thick, small space between you, but his smoldering gaze doesn't leave yours. his gentle hold on your jaw tightens ever so slightly—not to harm you, but to ground you into the moment. "you understand...i'm not the kind of man you forget after this."
your breath catches, but you don't pull back. "i know," you say softly, holding his gaze.
his hands return to your waist, firmer this time, pulling you just slightly closer to him—close enough that space barely existed anymore. "yeah..." he murmured, his thumb tracing lightly along your skin. "then stay with me."
you nearly shuddered from his words, the warmth of his body on yours surrounding you and making your skin tingle. "i will," you nearly whispered, praying that he couldn't feel the dampness between your legs at the thought of never leaving his side.
"good," he grunted in your ear, hot breath spilling down your neck. he pulled back just slightly before closing the space between you once again, tilting your head with his thumb and pulling your lips in with his unhurriedly.
you immediately softened into him as you moved your lips together, your chest immediately becoming flush against his and practically folding underneath his touch. his hands left your waist, finding their grip lower and onto your ass, holding you steadily against him while his tongue explored you once more.
his lips left yours to litter your neck with kisses—sloppy and open-mouthed this time, sucking harder and marking a trail of red marks down to your collarbone. you whimpered with every suck, thighs noticeably shifting against his legs.
namjoon's slender fingers found their way underneath your top, sliding it up slowly—like he was waiting for you to stop him—but you never did. you only complied, lifting your arms up. and in one swift motion, your top was off, and his lips already found themselves on your cleavage.
"so beautiful, baby," he murmured into your skin, tongue lightly lapping against the mark he had just made on top of your breast.
suddenly you felt his big palms on your waist once again before he manhandled you—lifting you up and lying you gently across the couch before his large figure quickly filled your vision and filling up your entire view.
all you could see in the ambient light of his studio was his broad shoulders, his low, piercing eyes, and glimmering chain now hanging in front of your face before he captured your lips again. you practically moaned into it, fingers gripping tightly into his shirt like you needed more.
"fuck," he murmured against you between kisses, intertwining his long fingers with yours, dragging your palm deliberately up his chest. your hands moved before your mind, tugging him closer by his shirt and immediately fumbling with the buttons.
he smirked, large hands moving to help you take it off. once he tossed it somewhere in the room, your hands danced around his body greedily, trailing over his abs, from his chiseled chest and to his swell back.
"should be taking you to my house like a fuckin' man. should fuck you in my bed slow 'n proper. but i've lost my patience with you, doll," he breathed lowly, licking his lips with hunger.
you could only bring yourself to whimper, as namjoon's big palm creeped around your thigh, trailing every so slowly inwards before stopping. your legs couldn't help but twitch helplessly underneath his touch, causing him to let out an amused breath of air.
"but you don't want that, do you?" he asked lowly in your ear, the desire in his voice making your core ache with unbearable need. his hands trailed closer to your heat, dragging his fingers leisurely against your inner thigh.
you shook your head desperately, but that wasn't enough for him. his fingers hooked around your skirt. "wanna hear you use that pretty mouth of yours, baby."
"i—yes—" you blurted breathlessly, struggling to find the words. "i want it—want you. here, joonie. right now."
his cock strained even harder against his pants. "good girl," he muttered before pulling your skirt down. when it was disregarded, namjoon's hands found your thighs again and you suddenly felt his long fingers trace against slowly against your sopping heat barely shielded by your lacy thong, sending a shiver down your entire body.
"wet for me already and i haven't even started with you," he smirked, finally hooking your panties to the side and letting your soaking core be hit by the cold air. your thighs instinctively went to clamp shut, but he quickly stopped them with his big hands.
"so sensitive, doll," he murmured, placing one big thumb just above your clit while the other fingers outlined your inner thigh. "guys your age don't take their time like this, do they?"
you shook your head immediately, whining out before his fingers glided up slowly against your wetness, his index finger swiping in between your folds. his thumb rubbed your clit in a long circle, pulling out a desperate whine out of your mouth.
finally, he pushed one long finger in between your folds, sliding into your hole that sucked him in, your wetness gushing his fingers. you whined loudly as he dragged it along your walls before plunging back in.
namjoon closed the distance between your faces, capturing your lips in with his and sucking on your bottom lip as he inserted another finger, thrusting into you at a steady pace while his thumb remained on your clit.
when he pulled away, it was only to align his face at your entrance. his hand firmly gripped onto your thighs, holding you in place. his fingers slowed inside of you as his nose came close to your core, the warmth of his breath directly hitting your pussy and making you twitch underneath him.
a small smirk pulled at his lips before he poked his tongue out, licking a light, gentle stripe against your folds. "mm, taste so sweet, baby."
you reacted immediately, thighs clenching around his head in a way he enjoyed a bit too much, his free hand wrapping around your leg firmly as he lapped delicately at your entrance.
you moaned his name, legs finally relaxing under his grip as he took his time with soaking your taste on his tongue. namjoon couldn't help but smirk against your folds, his plump lips completely enveloping your pussy into his mouth and sucking your wetness in hungrily.
it wasn't long before you felt his tongue greedily prying through your entrance, crying out in breathless moans. his two fingers stretched open your walls to allow more room for him to explore you with his tongue.
namjoon was absolutely driving you over the edge—his tongue plunged through your tight walls like no other, slender fingers stroking your insides while his thumb massaged your clit vigorously. he ate at you like he had starved for this—your back immediately curving off of the couch as you felt unbearable pressure twine into your stomach.
"that's it, doll," he cooed against your folds, his nose sitting on top of your clit. then, his voice dropped lower—"cum for me."
and so you did—completely letting go as your first orgasm tore through you like lightning. your legs shook around namjoon's head, his free hand rubbing against your thigh gently while his two fingers slowed inside of you. his tongue moved against your folds slowly, taking in every last drop of your release between his lips.
when your body was finally at ease from the state of euphoria he took you to, namjoon trailed kisses from your stomach and up, his hands gently caressing your sides.
"look at you taking me so good," he murmured between kisses, lips on yours now. "think you're ready for my cock, hm, baby?"
you nodded quickly, practically squirming beneath him. "yes joon—need it so bad." your fingers found his belt loop—his large hands finding yours immediately, helping you take off his pants entirely.
it was then when you saw the largest imprint strained tightly against his boxers, making you swallow hard without even realizing. his fingers looped around the hem, taking them off in a swift motion as he stood up.
his cock sprung out in front of you—thick, long, and angry with pre-cum glistening at the end. you sat up straight, jaw slightly slack without even realizing. namjoon's lips fought a smirk as he hovered over you, large shoulders swell and thick member curving up.
his low eyes looked down at you, clouded with darkness. he wrapped his large hand around the thick base of his cock, stroking slightly while taking in the sight of you in front of him.
"fuck," he grunted, "don't got any condoms, baby."
"it's okay, joon," you replied softly.
"you sure, doll?" he asked, tracing his fingers lightly against your jaw, tilting your head to look up at him fully.
you nodded. "wanna feel all of you," you said almost shyly.
"have no clue what you're doing to me," he responded lowly, almost to himself. then namjoon leaned down, grabbing your hips and lifting you up swiftly. you yelped in surprise as he sat down, bringing you back on top of his lap. only this time, you were skin to skin, your arousal miserably smearing onto his legs.
but he didn't seem to care. his large hands rubbed softly down your sides as he licked his lips. "you're so small, baby," he muttered in your ear, his thumb pressing into the side of your hip. "might break you."
"that's okay," you whispered, peering up at him with big, needy eyes.
"yeah?" he asked darkly, like your response had just snapped the last bit of restraint left in him. he held onto your hips firmly as he pulled you up, aligning your entrance with his cock. "gonna ruin you then, baby."
your hands gripped onto his broad shoulders immediately to steady yourself, his fat tip pushing through your folds and breaking into your tight entrance. you moaned out in a mix of pleasure and pain, feeling every inch of his width pushing slowly into your walls as you sunk down fully on his lap.
his grasp on you became tighter as he guided you further down, hissing in pleasure as he split you open widely with his cock. your eyes shut tight as your inner thighs kissed his. slowly, the tip of his member found the back of your walls, your head throwing back from the overwhelming stretch.
namjoon held you against him firmly, allow you to fully adjust to his length before he captured your lips into a kiss. "it's okay, doll," he murmured against you. "you're taking me so well."
after a minute of soft, warm coos in your ear—namjoon began to slide you up and down his vast length slowly with his large hands, emitting a loud whine from your lips. soon, he picked his pace, his cock repeatedly kissing the deepest part of your hole. "good baby... that's it," he praised lowly.
your head was filled with nothing but the thought of you, him, and his fat cock curving up inside of you and exploring your walls. he took you to a pure state of euphoria as he thrusted up in you. his hold was firm on you as he bounced you up and down his cock.
your eyes fluttered at your view, melting under his piercing gaze— his jaw tightened in pleasure and concentration, low eyes scanning your fucked-out expression hungrily. you nearly screamed in pleasure.
"such a good girl for me," he grunted in your ear, one large palm trailing up your sides before resting along your neck. his fingers wrapped around it slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to apply pressure that made your mind dizzy and your pussy clench his member tightly.
his other hand came firmer around your waist before suddenly you were moving—your head being guided back down on the couch while your body was being manhandled by namjoon while he kept his cock buried deep inside of you. one hand settled beside your head while the other remained grazing your throat lightly.
once you both fully adjusted to the new position, namjoon continued to thrust in you, roaming your pussy at an entirely new angle. your wetness gushed around his cock sloppily, filling the room with lewd slapping noises. "you fit around me so well, doll," he muttered breathlessly, breath shooting down your spine as he littered messy kisses along your neck.
his hand traveled from your throat down to your thighs, finding your clit and rubbing it softly. you were a moaning mess beneath him as he fucked you relentlessly now, tip slapping messily against the spongiest part of your walls, making your mind go blank.
his palm found its way around your thigh, lifting it above his shoulder. he closed the distance between you two, cock greedily marking a place inside your hole in a way no one had ever done before as his chest pressed against yours.
he rutted his length inside of you, making your eyes roll back and the couch move back and forth with every movement. "gonna fill you up tonight, doll. gonna make you mine," he murmured. "what do you think, baby?"
you could only moan in response, lost in the feeling of his cock buried so deeply inside of you. "nuh uh," namjoon ticked lowly, his thrusts becoming brutal. "wanna hear that pretty voice of yours, baby."
"mmph—yes~ make me yours, joon," you whined breathlessly.
you cried out—heat coiling unbearably in your stomach, pure bliss clouding your mind as namjoon picked up his pace, feeling your walls hugging him in tightly. "yeah... right where you belong baby," he muttered. "taking me so good like this."
your second orgasm of the night hit you even harder this time—ripping through you like a monstrous ocean wave. he fucked you through your high, your legs shaking violently against him; release spilling all over his cock as you moaned out his name breathlessly.
"that's it, baby," he grunted lowly as he made his final, slower thrusts, burying himself inside you as deep as possible before releasing his hot seed into your walls. "come on my dick, pretty girl."
your vision was practically filled with stars as your body became limp under his grasp. he milked his cock deep in your walls before he pulled out with a sharp hiss, laying down beside you—lengthy body half on the couch and half off of it.
you both laid there next to each other breathless, chests moving up and down in sync as you processed what had just happened.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
suddenly, the studio is quiet again.
it wasn't completely silent—just the low hum of equipment filling the room with one of his tracks still looping quietly in the background.
clothes half-on, curled against him on the couch with his large arm around your waist, holding you close against his chest like he had no intention of letting you drift away.
for awhile, neither of you say anything. namjoon's fingers moved slowly against your side, absentmindedly tracing soft patterns into your skin. the movement only grounded you into him more.
then finally, a low exhale left namjoon's lips. "c'mere," he murmurs softly, even though you were already pressed against him. his big hands slid higher along your back, pulling you in even closer anyway until your head was resting properly against his chest.
it only made your cheeks flush a bright red—the moment feeling possessive in a way that was ever so gentle. like he just needed to make sure you were still there. now, you can hear his heartbeat. it thumps steadily now against his large chest.
"you okay?" he asks quietly.
you nod against him. "yeah," you reply softly.
then his lips brush lightly against the top of your head, placing a soft kiss that lingers. "good," he murmurs.
something about the way he said it made warmth spread through your chest again. his hand settles at your waist once more, thumb brushing lightly beneath the fabric of your top. "you still overthinking?" he asks after a minute.
you let out a small laugh against his chest. "maybe a little."
a quiet hum leaves him. "don't."
you tilt your head slightly to look at him. his expression is softer now. his gaze still intense—because he always looks intense when looking at you—but softer. "you regret it?" he asks gently.
you shook your head immediately. "no," you replied, meaning it with everything in your chest.
at your words, something in namjoon's expressions shifts. it wasn't surprise, it was only something deeper. his hand moves to your jaw, thumb brushing slowly along your cheek.
"good," he says again, quieter this time. then, like his confidence had just made a return—"would've been a problem if you did."
you laugh softly, cheeks warming again. "you're crazy, joon."
"for you?" he murmurs. "starting to think maybe."
your stomach flips all over again. namjoon studies you for a second, gaze moving slowly across your face like he's memorizing it. like he still can't believe that you're here. with him, and in his arms.
his hand slides along your thigh gently. this time, it isn't teasing. instead, it feels familiar and warm. "come back to my place," he says quietly.
you hesitate for maybe half a second, but only because your heart is racing faster than your mind. his thumb brushes lightly against your leg. "you don't have to leave, doll," he murmurs.
"you sure?" you ask quietly. because in your past, once guys were done, they were done with your presence for the night—or even forever.
"of course," he says. then, a faint smile touches his mouth, voice dropping a little. "i'm not doing being around you."
and it only seemed that you weren't exactly done being around him either.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
two months later, being with namjoon feels easy. and it wasn't because he was simple. it was the exact opposite.
he's still intense, but still composed. he still walks through every room like he owns it without needing attention from anyone in it. but with you? he's soft in all the places it matters.
namjoon becomes part of your life so naturally it almost scares you sometimes.
mornings tangled up in his expensive sheets while sunlight pours through the massive windows of his house that overlooks the city. his large hand resting on your waist while he scrolls through emails lazily with the other. his bright smile on display every time he made you laugh or blush.
in his free time, he'd show up to your work with your favorite dinner meal. sometimes, he'd sit at a table in your section and order food just to be able to talk to you any chance you'd get.
afternoons where he pulls you into his lap while he's working on music. he'd barely let you sit more than a foot away from him before he was already touching you again somehow.
his fingers through your hair, your legs draped over his. his mouth against your temple when he quietly tells someone important over the phone that he'll "call back later."
and of course, he spoils you constantly. it wasn't in a loud way either. it was more like taking care of you and putting a smile on your face had just become his instinct.
he buys you things you casually mention liking once. he leaves designer bags on the bed like it's nothing. he'd get annoyed when you'd check price tags. he would sneakily place things in your basket at sephora as he trailed behind you, filling it up with everything you simply picked up and looked at.
you even tried to avoid going shopping with him sometimes because you never happened to pay for anything again.
"doll," he murmured one night, pulling your back against his chest, wrapping his large arms around you while you stared at a pair of brand new, christian louboutin red bottoms that he bought you. "if you like them, they're yours. stop thinking so hard."
and god, he hated it when you worked too much. he hated it even more when work stressed you out.
"you should call out," he tells you one morning, voice rough from sleep while you're leaving his bed for work.
you laugh softly. "some of us have to work, joonie."
his buff arms loop around your waist, pulling you back into the mattress effortlessly. "i know," he murmurs against your neck, nuzzling his nose into your warmth. "that's the problem."
eventually, namjoon starts saying it more seriously.
"quit," he says.
you look at him like he's insane every time. "be serious, joon."
"i am serious."
his hands slide along your thighs as you stand between his knees while he sits at the edge of the bed, looking up at you with that same, calm certainty he’s always had.
“i’ll give you whatever you need,” he says simply. “why are you stressing yourself out when you don’t have to?”
and the craziest part of it all to you, was that he meant it entirely. it wasn't because he wanted control—it was because taking care of you pulled at his dimples and his heart more than anything else ever had.
somewhere along the way, you became each other's favorite part of life. people notice too and eventually, the internet catches on.
a photo of you two start surfacing of you leaving restaurant in west hollywood, his hand firm at the small of your back. then, photos of him opening the door for you. and photos of him looking at you instead of the camera.
one set of paparazzi pictures blow up incredibly fast—you climbing into his car while he stands beside you in sunglasses and all black. one hand casually resting against the roof above your head, the other firm on your thigh as you settled into the seat.
neither of you comment on it, not publicly at least. but namjoon doesn't hide you either. because if anything—he loved being seen with you.
you noticed it in the small moments. the way his hand settled on your thigh more confidently when people recognized him on a date. the way he pulled you closer when cameras appeared. the way he looks almost amused by attention instead of irritated.
it was like he was always thinking, yeah, she's with me.
namjoon flexed you more than the music plaques on his wall or the collection of sleek cars in his driveway.
because throughout his entire career, no success, no hit record, or no amount of money—had ever made him look at proud as you do sitting beside him.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
4 months later~
the city outside namjoon's windows is glowing gold and white beneath the dark sky, soft music playing quietly somewhere in his giant house.
you're curled against him on the couch in one of his hoodies. legs across his lap while he scrolls lazily through something on his phone with one hand resting absentmindedly along your thighs.
you both had been like this all evening. quiet and comfortable; surrounded by the kind of silence that only exists when two people know everything about each other completely.
honestly, it could scare you a little. because somewhere along these four months, you and namjoon had stopped feeling temporary. it stopped feeling like some kind of whirlwind or fling.
instead, it just started feeling right. it just felt like you and him and nothing else completely belonged.
you looked over at him. observed the sharp line of his jaw that was softened by the warm lighting. the expensive watch sitting around his wrist. the reading glasses he only wore at home that sat low on his nose while he checked emails.
the realization hit you about a month ago so hard and your chest had felt tight ever since. you were completely, undeniably, and utterly in love with him. but now, you couldn't seem to hold it in anymore.
"you're staring again."
your heart jumps slightly. namjoon doesn't even look up from his phone when he says it. you roll your eyes. "you're obsessed with yourself."
a smirk touches his lips. "no," he murmurs calmly, finally looking over at you. "just obsessed with you."
you look away before he can see your flushed face, but of course he already noticed it. because there simply wasn't a thing he didn't notice about you. his phone turned off immediately. "hey," he said gently.
your eyes lift back to his. immediately his expression changes into something softer, but more serious. his hands slide up from your thigh to your waist, pulling you a little closer across the couch until you're practically in his lap. "what's going on in that head, hm?" he asks.
"nothing."
"liar."
the words are gentle, affectionate in a way. you laugh softly, but it comes out nervous. he catches that too. one hand comes up, brushing lightly along your jaw. "talk to me, doll."
you swallow. your voice comes out quietly—"what if... i love you more than you love me?"
the room goes completely still. namjoon stares at you for seconds that stretch far too long, like you had just said something completely. unbelievable.
his brows pulled together. "baby," he says softly, confused, "what?"
your heart pounds instantly at the name. you try to laugh it off, suddenly embarrassed now. "i don't know, i just—"
"no," he cuts in, hands tightening gently at your waist. they weren't harsh, but it was enough to stop you from spiraling away. "no, don't do that."
you looked back at him. and the way he was looking at you now—god. like this mattered. like you mattered.
"you really think you're ahead of me here?" he asks quietly, eyes boring into yours.
your breath catches as namjoon shifts closer, forehead resting lighting against yours. "i've been in love with you for a while now," he admitted softly.
for a second, you felt like you actually stopped breathing. his thumb brushed slowly against your cheek. "you just took longer to realize it."
a shaky laugh leaves you instantly, eyes burning now. namjoon smiles softly at that, an expression you only ever get to see.
"i love you," he says again, quieter this time. but it was certain, as if it were the most obvious thing it the world.
and suddenly every fear you had—about the age gap, about his fame, about his feelings for you—had totally disappeared. because this man—this calm, confident, impossible man—loves you so deeply that he didn't even hesitate to say it.
your eyes fluttered in disbelief, laughing away the butterflies in your stomach. "i love you too."
the smile that breaks across is face is small, but almost disbelieving. but it was unquestionably proud, like he had just won something prized. after that, he kissed you slowly. he enveloped your lips with his tenderly, soaking in all of your warmth beneath him.
"there you are," he murmurs softly. like you were always meant to end up here with him.
and somewhere between the side of the road and his arms, your little street thing had become everything.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
a/n : hope u guys loved this as much as i do eee! sorry there was so much relationship building... this is the longest bts fic i've made (on this app at least) omg..but joon is actually so sexy i could die.
could see this turning into a small series bc they’re lowk otp!! hehe :3 but who knows...
love u guys sm <3 read more of my joon fics here !!
summary: on the side of a sunburnt los angeles road, you with a broken down car meet a man you can't stop thinking about. he's older, composed, impossibly charming, and far too experienced to be looking at you the way he does. you're used to immature love that never knew how to hold you properly. but with him, everything is different.
themes: age gap (reader is 24, namjoon is 33), los angeles in the 2000s, smut, fluff, famous producer x non!celebrity reader, reader doesn't know who he is, confident joon yum, mainly readers pov w/ brief joon's pov, he's whipped, brief texting, tension, established relationship, strangers to lovers, teasing, they go on dates, joon is a gentleman, relationship building, joon is so dom and a lil possessive, nicknames, porn with lots of plot, eventual love confession
warnings: sexual themes, explicit & descriptive smut MINORS DNI 18+ (hard dom! joon, slight age kink & size kink, slightly semi-public sex(?? in his studio :3), unprotected sex, praise/dirty talk, edging/teasing, fingering, oral f, slight choking if u squint, creampie)
word count: 18k.. whoops
inspired by arirang joon because he's just too fine
♬ ₊˚. street thing - aaliyah
it was a late, blazing july afternoon with the kind of california heat that sticks to everything.
your beater car had just given up on you in the worst possible place it could—pulled over on the stretch of a busy road with no shade, just heat shimmering off the black asphalt and distant palm trees that don't feel helpful at all.
you already tried the obvious things. ignition, gas, trying it all again like it might change something.
it never did.
you leaned back against the passenger door of your car letting out a frustrated breath, hair sticking to your neck as you watched cars pass by with the soft sound of your hazards blinking in the background.
of course it's today. of course it's here.
that was when you suddenly heard the low hum of an engine slow down beside you. a sleek, black bmw—expensive, but not loud about it. it pulled in front of your car, and for a second you think the car is just stopping briefly.
that was before the driver door opened.
he steps out like he’s not in a rush to be anywhere else.
tall—noticeably so, he moves towards you easily, like he’s used to taking up space without ever forcing it.
sunglasses sit low on his nose, shielding his eyes, but not enough to hide the way his attention lands exactly on you. his shirt is simple—lightweight, slightly open at the collar, sleeves pushed up just enough to show his forearms. nothing flashy.
but it fits him too well. everything about him does.
dark jeans, clean shoes, watch on his wrist that you can't recognize but can tell is expensive. you notice all of him in the mere seconds he takes to walk over to you, the feeling hitting you all at once.
dear god, he was fine. the kind that made you straighten up a little bit without realizing; running a quick hand through your hair and fixing your jewelry.
he walks toward the front of your car, unhurried, one hand sliding briefly into his pocket before resting against the hood of your car.
up close, it’s worse.
sharper features than you expected. clean, but not overly polished. there’s something slightly worn in about him—like experience and maturity that sits on him well.
“everything alright?” he asks, voice is low and steady.
you blink for a second longer than necessary before responding. why does he look like that... helping me with my car?
"uh-" you stammer before clearing your throat. "it's- it's dead."
"yeah..." he says, eyes examining your car closer. "i can see that."
you nod and suddenly there's a pause, small but noticeable.
he comes around the side of your car, closing the distance between you to look inside of the window. you fumble while taking a few steps back as he looks at your dashboard then back at you, suddenly flustered by his presence.
"you got jumper cables?" he asks.
you simply shook your head.
"didn't think so," he says simply.
he walks back to his car, and you stand there feeling so helpless in the hot sun as he turns his car around to face yours in a swift manner, opening the door casually before coming around to his trunk like he's done this plenty of times.
when he comes back with the cables, he quickly slides his sunglasses in a way you almost miss a glimpse of his whole face.
you assumed it was because of the sun. but little did you know, it wasn't.
because before he walked back to his car, he had looked at you a little too closely. it wasn't some polite, quick glance. it was one that lasted a second too long.
he noticed everything about you.
the way your top fits—not overly revealing, but just enough to catch his attention without trying. the fabric light, slightly clinging from the heat. your skirt—shorter than it probably needed to be, riding just a little higher from the way you shifted against your car door.
his gaze dropped, brief, controlled—then came back up. your legs, your hands, the thin bracelet at your wrist. rings that don’t match perfectly but somehow work. jewelry that feels personal to you.
he takes note of that. of course he does.
then, your face. slightly flush from the heat, skin warm toned and sun-kissed. there's something effortless about you, like you spent more time living in the sun than hiding from it.
your expression—somewhere between annoyed and trying not to be. and your eyes, focused on him, but not softened. not entirely impressed by him, but more appreciative.
and when he closed his trunk, he forgets to look away. so he pulls his sunglasses back over, quick and casual. like it's nothing.
and not because of the sunlight, but because he was looking at you a little too openly. and he knew it.
he arrives at your car and connects everything smoothly, no hesitation and big hands steady. it was unfairly attractive.
“so,” he says, glancing up while he works, “you live out here or just enjoying the scenic breakdown experience?”
a smile pulls at your mouth despite yourself. “neither. i was just trying to get home.”
“mm.” he clicks something into place. “dangerous thing to try in LA.”
that gets a small laugh out of you, softer now and less defensive.
when the car finally sputters back to life, you visibly relax. he steps back, wiping his hands lightly. “there you go."
you should've just said thank you and left. but something in you doesn't act immediately. because now that the problem was gone, the silence between you two felt different now.
“so how do i… repay you?” you ask, half-joking, half-serious.
he tilts his head slightly. "you don’t.” a beat passes. "just don't break down in the worst place possible next time."
you rolled your eyes a little, a smirk tugging at your lips. "no promises."
that earns a small smile from him. he steps back toward his car, then pauses like he’s deciding something.
“i’m—” he starts, then stops himself, like he’s choosing not to introduce himself the usual way. "i’ll see you around.”
"yeah... thank you."
and you watch him get back into his car, driving away and getting lost in the sea of los angeles traffic as you realized two things;
you didn't get his name, and you would likely never see him again.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
one week later
he's just getting off the phone when it happens.
“yeah, send it over tonight,” he says, already half-distracted. “i"ll listen then.”
a pause. “mm. yeah. i got it.” he ends the call before the other person finishes their last sentence.
he slips his phone into his pocket, stepping onto the sidewalk, the afternoon sun hitting just right—warm, a little blinding, the kind of los angeles light that makes everything look softer than it is.
but he's not really paying attention at first.
he's thinking about work. about a track that still isn’t sitting right. about whether he even wants to go to the next session he has lined up.
and then—he sees you.
just down the block, wired headphones plugged into your ears as you walk towards a small coffee shop.
it takes him half a second too long for him to register it. he slows before stopping in his place on the scorching sidewalk just to be sure.
same walk. same unintentional confidence—like you're not trying to be noticed, which somehow makes you stand out more. your outfit catches his attention again without effort. something light, slightly different from the first time he saw you, but still you.
skirt again—of course. not the same one, but same idea.
he notices that. he notices everything.
you push the door open to the shop before disappearing inside. and for a second—he considers just letting you go, letting the roadside interaction stay that way, a one time street kind of thing that didn't need to turn into anything else.
he exhaled quietly before shaking his head, "yeah, no." he changed his direction subtly like he was always going that way.
by the time he reaches the door, he's already composed again. no rush or urgency in him, just the same steady stride he always carried around.
inside the cafe, it’s quieter than the street. low music, soft conversations, and the smell of coffee swirled in the air.
he scans the space once and it doesn't take long for him to find you, standing near the counter, slightly turned away, looking up at the menu like you're stuck deciding between the same two things.
he watches you for a second. not long, but enough. and suddenly, there's that feeling again rising up in his chest.
he steps into line behind you—close enough to matter, not close enough to be obvious. he lets the moment build naturally. of course he does. he lets you stay unaware just a second longer.
then, as you shift your weight and turn slightly back—he steps forward at the exact right time. light contact, your shoulder to his chest. just enough to capture your attention.
"oh, sorry—" you say automatically before looking up. it took a moment for you to process that the same, gorgeous man who jumped your car last week was the one currently blocking your vision.
he tilts his head slightly, like he’s just as surprised. “well,” he says, calm, almost amused, “this is becoming a pattern.”
you blinked. "you... helped me with my car."
"i did," he agrees. "and now apparently i'm following you around LA."
you narrow your eyes slightly. "are you?"
he puts a hand over his chest, mock offended but calm. “i prefer ‘running into you repeatedly by tragic coincidence.’”
that earns a laugh from you, the first real one between you. the barista calls you next in line, and he trails behind you like you're a couple ordering together. his presence alone makes your heart thump against your chest.
the barista takes your order and before you can even unzip your purse to pay, you already see a large hand coming from behind you, inserting a card in the machine.
the barista hands the man behind you the receipt and you turn around abruptly, tilting your head up to fully face him as you both drift away from the register. "i can pay for myself," you said.
"i know," he says simply.
"i was supposed to pay," you corrected as you picked up your freshly made coffee order.
"why?" he asked genuinely, tilting his head to match the angle of yours. it sent a light pink blush up your cheeks.
you look at him like the answer is obvious. "because you jumped my car."
his eyebrows pulled together. "that was like five minutes of my time."
you all but blinked, suddenly at a loss of words under the intense gaze of this mysterious, confident man.
he begins to walk towards a table and you follow him, still protesting under your breath. "that doesn't mean you get to—"
“get to what?” he glances back at you, sunglasses now off, and it’s worse without them in a way—more direct, more readable. more of his perfectly chiseled face exposed to you. “buy you coffee?”
you open your mouth, then close it. because the way he said it made it sound ridiculous to argue.
you both end up choosing a table by the window. endless blue, moving slowly under the late afternoon sun. a few people pass by on bikes, others walking along the sidewalk with iced coffees in hand, like time moves differently here.
not sat too close to him, not too far—just enough space that it could still be casual if either of you decided to pretend it was.
“so, what do you do?” you ask finally, wrapping your hands around the cup.
he leans back slightly in his chair. “music.”
“that’s vague.”
“it's intentional.”
you give him a look. “oh, so you’re mysterious.”
“i’m tired,” he corrects lightly, a smirk of amusement tugging at his lips. “there’s a difference.”
that makes you smile. “what, like a band?” you press.
“no,” he says. “behind the scenes.”
“oh.” you tilt your head. “like a manager?”
he pauses for a moment. "something like that."
it wasn't a lie, but it wasn't the truth either. you nod like you accept that answer, but the curiosity doesn't go away.
“and you?” he asks.
you almost laugh. “i don’t do music.”
“didn’t say you did.”
“i mean…” you gesture vaguely. “nothing like that. i work. i live on the edge of LA where nothing interesting happens.”
his gaze holds on you a second longer than necessary. "that’s not true,” he says.
you frown slightly. “you don’t even know me.”
“i know you broke down on the side of a road in peak heat and didn’t immediately panic,” he says. “that tells me something.”
"like what?"
"that you're stubborn," he replies calmly.
you lean forward a little, eyes analyzing his expression. "that's not a compliment."
“it can be,” he says. “depends who it’s about.”
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
you and him slip into easy conversation—half started stories, simple questions, the kind of conversation that doesn't feel like you're trying too hard.
you're mid-sentence, explaining something about where you live—how everything feels slower out there—when he interrupts you, but gently. “how old are you?”
you pause, caught off guard. “that’s random.”
“it’s relevant,” he says, like that should be obvious.
“to what?”
he lifts his cup slightly, studying you over the rim for a second before answering. “to how seriously i should be taking you.”
your eyebrows lift immediately. “excuse me?”
there’s a hint of a smile at the corner of his mouth. “i’m kidding,” he says, calm, unbothered. “mostly.”
you shake your head, trying not to smile. “twenty four.”
he nods once, like he expected that. “yeah,” he murmurs.
“yeah what?” you press.
“nothing,” he says, setting his cup down. “it makes sense.”
“that’s so annoying,” you say. “you don’t get to say that and not explain.”
“i just did.”
“no, you didn’t.”
he leans back slightly, relaxed, completely comfortable letting you be a little frustrated. “you carry yourself younger at times,” he says. “but not in a bad way.”
you narrow your eyes. “that still feels like an insult.”
“it’s not,” he says, softer now. “it’s honest.”
you look at him for a second longer than you mean to. “okay,” you say quietly. “then how old are you?”
he doesn’t answer right away. instead, he tilts his head slightly, watching you like he’s deciding how much to give. “what do you think?” he asks.
you study him now, more deliberately. he doesn’t look older, not really. no obvious lines, no tiredness. and of course, he looks put together in a way most guys your age aren’t.
“twenty-seven,” you say finally. “maybe twenty-eight.”
he lets out a soft laugh—low, almost under his breath.
you frown immediately. “what?”
“nothing,” he says, shaking his head slightly with amusement.
“no, what?”
“you’re off,” he says.
“by how much?”
he pauses, then shrugs like it doesn’t matter. “enough.”
“that’s not an answer,” you says leaning forward closer now.
“it is,” he replies calmly. “just not one you like.”
you stare at him, half-annoyed, half-curious. “you’re not going to tell me?”
“not yet.”
your eyes narrow. “why?”
he meets your gaze fully this time. “because i want to see if it changes anything for you.”
you lean back slightly, thrown off in a way you don't show completely. “why would it?” you ask.
he shrugs after a small pause. he glances down at your cup. “you drink your coffee too slow, by the way.”
your mouth falls open a little as the moment quickly softens again. “oh my god.”
“just saying.”
“you’re unbelievable.”
“and you’re still here,” he points out lightly.
the conversation drifts again after that, easier now. you talk more without meaning to—little things, fragments of your life. he listens in a way that feels attentive, but not invasive. like he’s not collecting information, just understanding your pace.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
you both drift toward the door without really deciding to. the conversation doesn’t end—it just slows, like both of you are aware it has to, eventually.
outside, the afternoon has softened. the heat isn’t as sharp anymore, but it’s still there, hanging in the air between you.
you shift your weight slightly, glancing down the street, then back at him. “this was…” you start, then stop, like you don't want to overdefine it. he watches you, gazed fixed on you patiently.
“unexpected,” you continue on.
he nods once. “yeah.”
“i still owe you,” you say.
he glances down at you. “you don’t.”
“i do.”
“you don’t,” he repeats, softer but final. but after a small beat, “if it makes you feel better, you can get the next one.”
you narrows your eyes. “there’s going to be a next one?”
he paused again, but only for a fraction of a second too long before he shrugged slightly like it was nothing. "if you break down again, i might start thinking it's planned."
you rolled your eyes, but a smile pulled helplessly at your lips. as you stepped out into the light of the sun, you realized two things at once. this man still hadn't told you who he is or his name, and that you somehow already agreed to see him again.
"let me see your phone," he said lowly, pulling his sunglasses over his eyes once again. it wasn't really a question.
and so you reached into your pocket, pulling out your phone, and without asking—he takes your hand gently, turning your palm slightly towards his. the faintest brush of his fingers sent an unexpected warmth up your arm in a way you couldn't ignore.
he picked up your phone that now seemed so small in his hands, typing something quickly before handing your phone back. you looked down at your screen, squinty slightly from the sun.
his name. a number.
joon 213-555-0010
when you look back up at him, he's already watching you—unreadable in a way that sent a pink flush throughout your cheeks.
"joon," you said, like you needed to say his name out loud. like you knew it was just a nickname.
he simply nodded, something small like a smile tugging at his lips from the sound of you hearing his name. "yeah."
he paused, low eyes peering above his sunglasses as he looked at you closely. "you gonna tell me yours?" he asked lowly, the baritone of his voice hitting a little too close.
so you told him, and he repeated it a few times under his breath like he had to let it sink on his tongue. "y/n," he said finally, voice quieter than usual. "pretty name for a pretty girl."
your eyes couldn't help but widely slightly at his bold words, the pink on your face turning into a deep red.
a small pause filled the air before you swallowed, trying your best to lock in your confidence in front of this man. "you didn't ask for my number," you said.
"i know."
"that's a little backwards."
"not really."
you titled your head. "why?"
he took a step back, giving you just a little more space. "because now it's your choice."
you study him for a second, like you're trying to figure out if this is some kind of game. some kind of reality tv show where they prank you with some hot mysterious man. but it didn't feel like one.
"and if i don't text you?" you ask.
a small pause before he shrugged easily. "then i'll assume you didn't want to." but his tone didn't have any pressure or persuasion in it.
"confident," you mutter.
"selective," he corrected.
you almost rolled your eyes—but you don't quite let it happen. he glances past you for a second, like he's remembering that he actually has somewhere to be. then, they quickly averted back to you.
"if you do," he continues, quieter now. "don't over think it."
you let a small laugh. "too late."
that earns a small smile from him, dimples tugging at his cheeks in a way you noticed immediately. "i figured."
another pause before he steps back swiftly, like he's deciding that he couldn't stay any longer than necessary—even if he wanted to. "i'll see you around," he says, for the second time.
before you can respond, he's already turning and stepping away, suddenly gone in the same effortless and casual way he arrived.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
that night, you tell yourself you're not going to think about him.
and you failed immediately.
you failed when you went to dinner with your friends, when you did chores around your house; in the shower and when you laid in your own bed that night—the bed that was supposed to make your thoughts go away. it was the small things at first.
the way he didn’t rush anything. the way he answered questions without really answering them. the way he looked at you like he already understood something you hadn’t said out loud yet.
and as the night continued on, the bigger things settled in your brain, making heat shamefully pool between your legs.
he didn't ask for your number. he didn't try to lock you in. instead, he just left his number with you.
who is he?
your phone sat next to you with the screen dark and off, but it felt louder than anything else in the room. you fell into a cycle of picking it up and putting it back down.
finally, you picked it up again, finding his contact. you flipped it shut, sucking in a sharp breath at the thought of messaging him. you found your thumbs typing, deleting, then typing something again.
you exhale softly, leaning back against your pillow trying your hardest not to overthink it, his voice replaying in the back of your head.
he wasn't some typical guy—you could tell in the way he carried himself. he walked casually, but with assurance. he dressed with stride, but still managed to blend in. he talked with confidence, and every line was coated with experience.
so now, it wasn't just about texting him. it's about what it would mean if you did. because somehow, after one roadside encounter and a cup of coffee—you already wanted more than you should have.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
namjoon's drive back was quiet. not because he wanted it to be—but because nothing else fit how he felt at the moment.
not even any of his music.
he had driven these streets thousands of times. the same turns, the same streets, the same palm trees. usually his mind is somewhere else entirely—work, mixes, deadlines, people who expect things from him.
but not tonight. because tonight, it kept circling back to you.
it all kept replaying in his head—the way you looked at him like you were trying to figure him out. he noticed the way you didn't try too hard. you didn't perform like everyone else in LA.
you didn't know what he is, who he is, or what kind of world he's involved in.
that was the part that was stuck in namjoon's head so deeply. because most people that meet him are already adjusted to him—already well aware, careful with their words and their tones, their intentions.
but you certainly weren't.
because you argued with him. you rolled your eyes and called him annoying. and you meant all of it.
a faint smile pulled at his mouth as he came to a stop at a red light. "twenty-seven," he muttered to himself, shaking his head and laughing slightly.
but still, you didn't hesitate.
he pulls into his place, kills the engine, but doesn’t get out right away. he glances at his phone, sitting in the center console of his car, dark and quiet.
but he doesn't reach for it. because namjoon was a patient man—he always had been. in work, in life, in everything that mattered.
once he gets inside his spacious, sleek home, he dropped his keys on the counter, running a hand through his hair, exhaling.
namjoon had been with plenty of women before. older, younger—in his world and outside of it. he always knows how it goes. he knows how to keep it light and uncomplicated.
but this didn't feel like that. because it felt like something that could get complicated. but instead of pushing it away like he normally would, he leaned into it. just a little.
an hour passes. then two.
namjoon tells himself he's not checking his phone. but it turns out to be a lie, because throughout night—he checks it without picking it up. glancing every time he walks past, like it might light up if he looks long enough. but it doesn't.
he tells himself to relax, that you have a life or that you might not be interested at all. but still—he wonders what you're up to. if you're thinking about him the way he's thinking about you. if you're overanalyzing that moment outside of the coffee shop.
suddenly, his phone buzzed. he doesn't look right away. he just looked at it before reading the unsaved number, no name attached. he picks it up and opens it almost immediately.
unknown: do you always leave girls with this much pressure or am i just special?
he lets out a quiet breath—half a laugh of amusement, half something else. there you finally were, exactly the way he had anticipated. he begins to type before he stops and quickly deletes it.
he leans back against the counter, thinking—not about what to say, but about how much he should give. because namjoon didn't want to rush this. he didn't want to come on too strong.
but he couldn't pretend that he was unaffected either, because he most certainly couldn't even if he wanted to. not with you.
he types again, this time sending it.
him: i was starting to think you wouldn't.
he watches the screen for a second longer than necessary, saving your contact before setting his phone down. it wasn't far, but it was just enough. because now, you know that he was waiting too.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
you exhale softy, rolling onto your back with a smile that couldn't help but tug at your lips.
you: oh so you were waiting
a pause settled on the screen before the typing bubble popped up again.
joon: i was curious
you: that sounds like a more mysterious way of saying waiting
joon: you can call it whatever makes you feel better
and now, you definitely smiled at that. because he was already doing that thing again—side stepping without hesitation.
you: you're too difficult to read
joon: you're trying too hard then
you: i think you're just confusing
joon: only for you sweetheart
you actually laugh out loud at that, shaking your head and ignoring the way the nickname made pink tint your cheeks.
you: wow
so is this how you talk to every girl you buy coffee for?
his reply comes faster this time.
joon: i don't buy anyone coffee
you: good answer
joon: an honest one
what are you doing right now?
you glanced around your room like he could somehow see.
you: nothing important
joon: doesn’t sound convincing
you: i could say the same about you
joon: i’m working
you: doing your very mysterious job?
joon: still stuck on that?
you: a little
joon: you'll figure it out eventually
you bit your lip slightly, thinking of an answer.
you: you're very sure i'm going to stick around long enough to figure it out
joon: aren't you?
your heart does that annoying little jump again, and you don't answer right away. and he doesn't send anything else. instead, he waits. three minutes later;
you: maybe
joon: that's a start
another painfully long beat passes before your cellphone vibrates again.
joon: you busy tomorrow night?
you stare at the message, blinking twice to make sure you read it right. but somehow, half of you wasn't surprised. you were practically waiting in a way you couldn't admit. but the other half was incredibly in shock.
you started to type.. deleted it.. then typed again.
you: depends
what are you planning?
joon: something better than coffee
you smiled immediately, even though you tried not to.
you: that's a little confident
joon: doesn't seem like you hate it
you: i don't
joon: good
a pause settled on the screen again.
joon: 8?
you exhaled slowly, the reality creeping in as you stared at the screen. you were really going to go on a date with this man. the same, confident and attractive man that had jumped your car and saved your day. the same man who's age and job you couldn't quite detect.
you: okay
joon: i'll pick you up
don't overthink it
you rolled your eyes, smiling.
you: too late
joon: i know
and just like that, with one text conversation, it definitely was more than just a street thing.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
you almost regret saying yes the moment you hear a car pull up outside, engine rumbling lowly outside your apartment window.
not because you didn't want to go, of course. but because now, it's real.
you check yourself in the mirror one last time, smoothing the bumps in your hair and coating your lips with gloss one last time. simple, but intentional. something that said you tried... but didn't try too hard.
your phone buzzed.
joon: i'm outside
when you step out, you see the car first. the same sleek and clean car that had pulled over in front of you on that busy highway engulfed in heat.
then him.
leaning slightly agains the driver's side door, towering over the car with his sleeves pushed up, looking like he's only been there for a minute—but completely settled anyway. he wore a costly-looking dress shirt, glimmering chain around his neck and a sparkling watch wrapped around his built arm. you swallowed hard.
his eyes flick up from the ground immediately when he notices you. and for a second, he just looks at you. completely, unashamedly taking you in with his eyes slowly.
"yeah..." he says lowly, dragging his lips ever so quickly along his lips as you approached him, heels clicking beneath you. "you're going to be a problem tonight."
you couldn't ignore the heat that sent down your spine, but you simply peered up at him, batting your eyelashes innocently. "aren't i always?"
"i haven't seen you always," he replied.
you rolled your eyes, but a small smile pulled at your lips anyway. then, he stepped back, opening the door for you. you don't the miss the way he does it without hesitation. and when you sit inside, you don't miss the way his gaze burns into you before closing your door.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
the drive was easy, music low in the background, city lights coming to life as the sun started to dip below the horizon.
namjoon doesn't fill every silence—and somehow it makes it easier for you to talk.
"so where are you taking me?" you ask eventually.
"you'll see," he says casually, one hand on the steering wheel while the other rested between you.
"that's not helpful."
"it's not supposed to be."
you shook your head, smiling out the window. he pulls up to a restaurant that sits right by everything—the beach, the water, and the city. it was definitely upscale, but nothing intimidating.
inside, the lighting is warm yet dim, swift music playing and low conversations humming.
you were seated quickly. no waiting or confusion. you didn't quite realize the line of people who were standing for a table, and how you and him were able to breeze right past it.
when you arrive to your seat, it's right in front of the window, city lights and palm trees stretching on the glass in front of you. he pulls your seat out for you, helping you take off your coat and placing it along your chair.
after you place your orders, the conversation flows faster this time. less guarded, and more natural.
"so," he says, leaning back in his chair slightly. "what do you actually do?"
you sigh softly, like you already know the answer isn't impressive, even compared to his incredibly vague one. "i’m a waitress," you say. "nothing exciting."
he watches you for a second. "you keep saying that."
"because it's true."
"or because you think it's supposed to be."
that made you pause. "it's not exactly... impressive," you admitted.
he shrugs lightly. "most things that are don't matter."
you let out a small breath, like you didn’t expect that answer. “you always talk like that?” you ask.
“like what?”
“like you know something i don’t.”
a small smirk pulls at his mouth. “sometimes i do.”
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
you and namjoon are laughing a few minutes later—about something small and stupid—and it feels easy. too easy.
the song currently playing comes to an end and the music shifts. a different song comes on—smooth, familiar, something that's even playing everywhere recently.
you perked up immediately. "oh my god, i love this song."
he stills ever so slightly. it's quick and barely noticeable, but there's a flicker of something across his face. he glances down at the table, then back up at you. "yeah?" he asks, casual.
"yeah," you nod, smiling. "it's so good."
he hums in response, leaning back in his seat like it's just background noise. "not bad."
you narrow your eyes slightly. "not bad?"
he shrugs. "it's alright."
you laugh. "you're impossible."
and he doesn't argue. but there's a faint smirk but he doesn't fully hide this time.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
the dinner stretches longer than you expected. because neither of you seem to be in a rush to end it.
by the time the check comes, you reach for it instinctively. because at the cafe, he said he would let you get it this time.
but he's faster. of course he is.
"you don't have to—" you start.
"i know."
"that's not fair," you protest.
"it doesn't have to be," he said.
you sigh, but you're already smiling again.
as he hands the card over, the server pauses. "sorry," the server says, almost hesitant. "are you... are you—namjoon—"
namjoon already knows what's coming. he exhales softly, not annoyed at all, just used to it. "yeah," he says with a polite smile. you blinked.
"sorry- i thought so. i didn't want to assume."
he gives a small, reassuring nod.
"do you think i could-" the server gestures awkwardly. "just like, a quick autograph? my brother and i are huge fans."
you completely froze.
fan?
huge?
he doesn't make it a big deal. "yeah, no problem," he says, like it was normal. like this happens all the time. because it does.
he signs something quickly, hands it back with a polite smile.
"thank you—i appreciate it. you two have a great night," the server said before walking off.
silence settled between you for the brief a second. you were completely staring at him now, trying to control your facial expressions as you processed what just happened.
"you didn't tell me that happens to you," you said.
"i didn't think it mattered," he replied casually.
"well," you said slowly. "what exactly do you do?"
there it was. the question he definitely couldn't avoid this time. he leans back slightly, studying your expression. it was curious, but not intimidated or totally impressed. just curious.
"i told you," he said. "music."
you shook your head. "no, you said behind the scenes."
he huffed a small breath, close to a laugh before he paused. "i produce," he said finally. it was simple and direct—no bragging or boasting.
you blink again. "like... that song?"
a beat passes for a small moment before he nods once. "yeah."
and now, the air between you shifted. because now you knew; he wasn't just some guy who stopped to help you on the side of the road.
and somehow, it almost made things worse. because now, you had to figure out why he's here... with you.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
the air outside feels cooler than before. or maybe it’s just because of the way everything shifted inside.
namjoon pushes the door open for you, stepping slightly to the side to let you walk out first—but as you pass, his hand settles lightly at the small of your back.
guiding. not grabbing or lingering too long. just there, resting on your back. it's subtle, but you can feel the intention seeping through you, especially in the way it instantly sends a shiver up your back.
your steps slow for half a second—not enough for him to comment on, but enough for you to notice yourself.
but he notices too.
you both walk a few steps in the parking lot in silence. it wasn't awkward, it was just both of you recollecting the entire night—including who he really was.
“so,” you say finally, glancing over at him, tone light like nothing’s changed, “you’re kind of a big deal, namjoon.”
he exhales a quiet laugh, shaking his head. “no.”
“that guy literally asked you for an autograph.”
“that happens sometimes.”
you narrow your eyes. “that’s not normal.”
“it is for me,” he says simply. it wasn't cocky or defensive, just the honest truth. it should've been intimidating. but you didn't let it land that way.
you shrugged slightly. "okay. but that still doesn't mean i'm impressed."
there's a pause before he looks at you—really looks this time. and something shifts in his eyes, subtle but sharper. more interested and intrigued by the young woman standing before him.
"good," he said lowly.
you blinked. "good?"
“i’d be a little concerned if you were.”
your lips press together slightly, trying not to smile. “you’re unbelievable.”
“i’ve been told.”
you both reach his car, but neither of you move to get in right away. he leans back against it slightly, arms relaxed and eyes fixed on you.
you cross your arms again. not closed off, just grounding yourself under his gaze. "so you just... make songs people know?"
"sometimes," he said with a shrug.
"ugh, that's such a non-answer."
his lips fought a smile at your remark. "it's an accurate one."
you shook your head, a small laugh escaping you. "you're so annoying."
"but you keep talking to me," he points out.
you finally glance up at him fully, and for a second, the eye contact lingers for a moment too long. it causes you to look away first, pink tinting your cheeks.
and namjoon notices everything.
the way you're holding eye contact a little less now. the way you're slightly more aware of yourself. the way you're trying not to let it change anything. but it doesn’t turn him off—it only pulls him in more.
“you got quiet,” he says.
“i didn’t.”
“you did.”
you look away for a second, then back at him. “i’m just thinking.”
“about?”
you hesitate. “nothing,” you say.
he tilts his head slightly, unconvinced—but he doesn’t push. instead, he steps a little closer. not enough to crowd you, but enough to spark the energy in the space between you even more.
“you’re doing that thing,” he comments quietly, eyes trailing up and down your figure.
your brows knit. “what thing?”
“trying to act like nothing changed.”
your stomach flips—annoyingly and immediate. “because nothing did,” you said.
a pause fills the air. he studies your face, like he’s deciding whether to call it out further. “alright,” he says finally.
you exhale softly. “you’re not going to say anything else?”
“i don’t need to.”
“that’s so—” you cut yourself off, shaking your head.
he watches you, a faint smirk pulling at the corner of his mouth now. “say it,” he murmurs.
you look at him, trying not to react to the way his voice dropped slightly. “it’s just… a lot,” you admit.
your answer was too honest for your liking, yet he didn't laugh or dismiss it. "yeah," he said quietly. "it can be."
a beat passed. "but i'm still the same guy you had coffee with," he said softly. and those words land, harder than anything else he's said.
you study him for a second, searching for something—ego, arrogance, anything that would make this easier to categorize.
but you don’t find it. instead, you're only able to find that same calm, steady version of him. the one who stopped his car for you. the one who let you decide whether to text him. the one who didn’t even bother to impress you.
“…okay,” you say finally. and you mean it.
there was a small shift in the air between you, the tension softening— but not totally disappearing.
“so,” he says, pushing off the car slightly, “you still letting me drive you home?”
you raise an eyebrow. “do i have a choice?”
“you always have a choice,” he said. a beat passes. "but i’d prefer if you said yes," he confessed playfully.
you huffs out a quiet laugh. “you’re very subtle.”
“i try.”
and for the second time that night, namjoon opens the passenger door for you. and this time, when you got in, it felt different; reality swirling around you and settling into your head.
the drive back was quieter than the one there. it wasn't awkward or empty—just filled with unspoken words and incredibly thick tension.
his gaze was fixed on the road, but you couldn't ignore the way you caught him glancing over at you multiple times in the corner of your eye. the music is low, humming softly through the speakers before another song comes on.
you glance over at the console, then over at him. "did you make this one too?" you ask, half teasing.
he doesn't look at you right away, a smirk pulling at his lips, leaving a sharp shadow along his jaw. "maybe."
you roll your eyes, fully smiling now. "you're never going to give me a straight answer, are you?"
"not all at once, pretty girl."
there it is again. not just the nickname that sent heat through your spine and in between your legs—but that confident, indirect promise of you sticking around long enough to unlock every thing about him.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
you're looking out the window, surrounded by the kind of silence that makes everything feel more noticeable. but you're not really seeing or looking at anything, because you're too aware.
too aware of namjoon. the way he drives—one veiny hand on the wheel, relaxed but precise. the way the scent of his expensive cologne and shampoo made your knees weaken. the way he continues to glance over every now and then, quick, like he’s checking something without making it obvious.
you shift slightly in your seat every time he does.
suddenly, his hand moves from the wheel for just a second—resting briefly against the center console as he adjusts his grip. but through that movement, his large fingers brush lightly against your thigh.
he dragged them ever so softly on your thigh for what felt like forever—but only lasted two seconds—before moving his hand back to the center console. his fingers were barely there, not lingering or deliberate enough to call out. but it wasn't exactly accidental enough to ignore either.
your breath catches for just a second, but he doesn't react or apologize. he doesn't even look at you, and somehow that makes it worse.
you swallow hard, turning your head slightly towards the window again. but now you're even more hyper-aware of the space between you. your heart was doing something very annoying again, and you knew it.
he knew it.
he slows the car as you reach your place, parking smoothly before killing the engine. and just like that, everything went still.
neither of you moved right away. you looked down at your hands, then back up like you were about to say something. but you didn't.
he simply watches you for a second, less teasing in his eyes and more focus. he took in every inch of you, sitting so still and pretty in his car. looking at him like he was still the same guy who jumped your car, not like he was a guy who made every hit song. "you got quiet again," he says softly.
you let out a small breath. "you keep saying that."
"because you keep doing it."
you glance at him. this time, you don't look away immediately. "i'm just thinking."
"dangerous," he murmurs, pulling a small smile from you.
you reach for the door handle. "thanks for dinner," you say, like you're trying to keep it normal.
"yeah," he replies with a soft smile.
you open the door, stepping out thinking that the night is wrapped up. that he'll pull away and let you go. but then, you hear his door open too.
he rounds the front of the car, meeting you halfway up the short path to your door. he took his time not rushing—because he never did.
when you stop in front of your door, you turn to face him. and suddenly, it's close. closer than it's been all night. there wasn't a table, a center console, or any distractions now. just him, towering over you and filling your entire vision with nothing but him. his musky cologne quickly filled your nostrils, throwing your mind off balance.
"you don't have to walk me up," you say quietly, close to a whisper.
"i know," he says. but he doesn't step back.
a long pause fills the air, stretching long enough for the tension to feel intentional. his gaze drops briefly, to your lips—then back up to your eyes.
your breath catches again, softer now. but you were too close for namjoon to not notice it. "are you always this—" you start, then stop.
"this what?" he asks lowly, clenching his jaw ever so slightly at the mere sight of you fumbling with your words in front of him.
you shake your head slightly. "i don't even know."
a faint smile pulls at his mouth. "good." he took another step closer, not enough to trap you, but enough for the warmth of his body to wrap around you.
then, his hand lifts, hesitating for half a second before gently tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. he does it carefully, like he was giving you all the time in the world to pull away. but you didn't.
"you're overthinking again," he murmurs, low eyes scanning every inch of your face.
your voice comes out quieter than you expect. "you keep saying that like it helps."
"it does," he suggests casually.
"how?"
he leans in barely. he doesn't completely close the distance between you, but it was enough to send a bolt of warmth down your body. "because you're still here."
you tilt your head up just a little, before he leans in just a sliver more. and for a second, the moment is right there, sitting heavy in the little distance there was between you.
and then, he stops. just barely, coming to a small still when you could practically feel his breath on you. just enough that it didn't happen.
your eyes flicker across his face, confused, a little breathless. he watches your reaction carefully, low eyes trained onto your every movement.
and suddenly, there's that faint smirk again—but it's softer; barely there and more restrained than usual in a way you almost didn't catch.
"goodnight, doll," he said lowly. "sleep well."
like nothing had almost just happened.
he steps back, ripping the thick air that had just sat between you like a third person. breaking it and leaving you there standing with it.
“you’re—” you start, but you don't even know what to call him.
he tilts his head slightly, licking his lips and averting his gaze down you one last time. “what?”
you exhale half-laugh and half-frustration. “annoying.”
he smiles, dimples pulling at his cheeks. “i know," he says, before turning around and walking back to his car.
from the doorstep, you watch him get in, turn on the engine, and leave. leaving you there with more thoughts than your racing heart could keep up with and a miserable dampness in your panties.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
namjoon's place is quiet again. too quiet.
he tosses his keys down, walks a few steps in, then stops—like his body forgot what he was about to do.
because his mind was entirely somewhere else.
it was still at your door. still immersed into that moment.
he leans back against his kitchen counter, exhaling. he's replaying everything now, like dinner—the way you didn't switch up when you found out what he did. you weren't suddenly impressed or started asking the wrong questions.
you stayed the same. maybe you were a little quieter, a tad bit more aware. but you didn't completely fold.
that absolutely sat under namjoon's skin now. he was completely enamored by you, and didn't want to pull a girl like you into his chaotic world. didn't want you to adjust to him because of who he was, like most people did.
but you didn't. you just took it in, and kept going. you stayed exactly the same—you still called him annoying and told him he wasn't impressive.
he looks at his phone sitting a few feet away. he already gave you control once. he let you decide whether or not to text him, to decide if it was going to go anywhere or not.
but he wasn't going to do that tonight.
him: you always look at people like that or was that just for me?
he sets the phone down, but not far. because you've consumed every inch of his mind again without even trying to. he thinks about the your eyes dropped to his lips, the way you didn't pull away.
his jaw tightened slightly. he knew he was in trouble.
his phone lit up again.
her: like what?
he lets out a quiet breath, a smile pulling at his lips. the way you played it off, like you always did, made him only want more. made him think that maybe he should've kissed you right then and there—should've forgot about being a man and taking his time with you and—
he slowly took in a deep breath through his nose, dragging a hand across his face.
him: like you were about to do something you'd regret
her: don't know if i'd call it regret
namjoon liked that a little too much, licking his lips and leaning back. because now, he knows you felt it too.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
a few days and several text conversations later, namjoon sends you a text on a night he knows you're not working. no question or explanation, just;
joon: be ready at 7
when he picks you up, the air already shifts when you walk outside. it was in the way he looked at you, slow and deliberate, like he wasn't hiding it at all anymore. he takes his time, eyes trailing from your shoes, to the way your skirt falls, the jewelry at your wrist, to your face.
"you always dress like this, doll?" he asks lowly, stepping closer to you.
you raise an eyebrow, ignoring the way the name made your brain feel like mush. "like what?"
"like you knew exactly what you were doing when you picked that."
your lips pressed together slightly, trying not to smile. "maybe i did."
a faint smirk pulled at his lips. "yeah," he agreed. "i think you did."
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
the driver is longer, along the coast again. his tinted windows are cracked, music low with the sky fading into the darkest blue that only happens by the water.
you and namjoon talk, but it's far from that careful, first date way. the conversation flowed between you easily. you interrupted each other, went off on tangents. doubled back to things you both said earlier. like you both have done this together longer than you actually had.
when you arrive, the place is even more secluded than last time. a quiet overlook with soft lights and the ocean extending endlessly in front of you. the sound of waves clashed below in a way that was steady and grounding.
it felt private, like the rest of the world didn't exist here.
you and namjoon sit closer this time without question. dinner stretches and the conversation flows. you don't even discuss all the big things, but it's the way you talk about the small ones that makes it feel different.
you tell him about what hobbies you have, about your job—how it's routine, how people underestimate it, and how sometimes you feel stuck. and he doesn't brush it off or give you empty encouragement like most people did.
"you're not stuck," he corrected you firmly.
you scoff every is slightly. "that's easy for you to say."
"it's not about me," he replies softly. "you just need to find what you want."
you pout slightly in a way that makes his heart falter. "and you have?"
he pauses for half a second. "yeah." that same confidence remained in his tone, and for a second it felt like he might have been talking about something else.
at some point, his hand settles at the back of your chair. but this time, it stays. it wasn't touching you directly, but it was close enough to make you aware of it. aware of him.
you shift slightly and his slender fingers brush at your shoulders. they rest there for a second longer than necessary before pulling back. his warmth and his actions sent an unbearable heat between your legs.
after dinner, you both step away from the table, walking along the edge of the overlook. the night air is cooler now, ocean breeze slipping through you. you and him walk a little closer than before, shoulders lightly brushing with every few steps.
you wrapped your arms around you slightly, and his jacket is already around your shoulders before you can say anything.
you glance back at him, stopping in your steps to look at him properly. "you know... you're very sure of yourself."
"that bothers you?"
"no," you admit honestly. "it's just—different."
he pauses for a small moment. "from what you're used to?" he asks.
you nod slightly. he studies you for a second. "you're trying to figure out how old i am again."
your eyes widen slightly. "i'm not—"
"you are."
you exhale. "okay, maybe a little."
he lets your confession sit in the air before he nods slightly toward a couple walking past you two—a generation older than you, quieter, and settled. "you think i'm closer to them, or closer to you?" he asks.
you look back at the couple, then back at him. you really look at him, thinking about the way he carries himself. the way he speaks. the way he doesn't rush anything.
your expression shifts. "...okay," you say slowly. "how old are you?"
he pauses for longer than just a few seconds. "thirty-three," he answers finally.
you can't help but blink. once. twice. "...really?"
"yeah."
you study him again, like the answer didn't quite align with what you were seeing. "you don't look thirty-three."
"i know," he answered casually.
"that's kind of unfair," you said playfully.
he smiled softly. "i've heard that."
a quiet beat passes as namjoon watches you carefully, curiously watching your expression.
you shrug slightly. "okay."
he tilts his head. "that's all?"
"what?" you ask. "were you expecting something else?"
"most people... adjust," he stated.
you look at him deeply, peering up at him through your eyelashes. "well i'm not most people."
he steps closer, lightly closing the space between you. his scent filled your head once again, making your breath catch.
"yeah," he said lowly. "i noticed."
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
later, when you leave the restaurant together, you don't rush out. you never do.
namjoon walks slightly behind you first as you both headed towards the entrance, one hand finding its way onto the small of your back. it became natural now, something you didn't react to—externally, at least.
his hand was there, guiding you carefully down the steps.
two hostesses near the front glance up. then they glance at namjoon. then to you, then back at him.
a quick look exchanged between them followed by a few whispers and positive smiles. he catches it immediately. of course he does.
namjoon doesn’t look directly at them—he doesn’t acknowledge it—but there’s the faintest change in his expression. then his hand presses just slightly firmer at your back.
a quiet, almost instinctive gesture. not to show off. just to keep you close—and slightly focus the attention on you.
you don't notice the whispers, but you do notice the presence of his hand grow warmer. "what?" you ask, glancing back at him.
"nothing," he says easily.
the lights from the restaurant glowed behind you, the cool night air and a soft breeze coming off the water hitting you all at once.
there's a small set of marble steps leading down towards the parking area. you start down them without thinking—mind entirely captured by namjoon—and suddenly your heel catches slightly.
it's quick—barely a stumble, but it's enough to throw you off balance slightly. his large hands instantly find their way to your waist firmly, tightening his grip and steadying you before you could even process anything.
"careful, baby," he murmurs, low and close. the name slipping out like it had always belonged there.
you freeze for half a second, breath catching slightly before you steady yourself, hand instinctively brushing against his arm.
"I'm fine," you say, a little too quickly, beginning to continue a careful ascend down the steps and ignoring the heat on your cheeks.
namjoon however, doesn't move his hands right away. they linger on your waist a second longer than necessary, making sure you're fully balanced. "i know," he says calmly.
you look up at him, trying to play it off. "you don't have to—"
"i know," he cuts in softly.
and when you reach the bottom of the steps, his hand doesn't leave your back. it stays there, steady, guiding you towards his car like you're already part of his space.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
the drive back is quiet, the low vibration of the music and the city lights and palm trees flickering past practically lulling you to sleep.
and namjoon's presence, of course.
his large hand rested on the wheel, the other on the center console. close enough. by the minute, you swear it continues to get closer.
"tell me about him," namjoon says suddenly, the deep baritone of his voice making your thighs press together slightly.
you frown slightly from confusion. "about who?"
"your ex."
it catches you off guard. "...why?"
he shrugs lightly, sharp eyes still on the road. "i'm curious."
you hesitate before sighing. "he was..." you trailed off, trying to find the right word. "lazy."
half a second passed. "immature," you added. "didn't really pay attention to me unless it was convenient."
and as you talk, namjoon's jaw tightens slightly. it's subtle and controlled in a way you don't notice, but it's there.
"he just-" you shook your head slightly, looking out the window. "i don't know. it felt like I was always asking for the bare minimum."
for a long second, silence fills the car. namjoon's fingers tap once against the console. then, they shift. his hand moves unhurriedly, eventually finding its way to rest against your thigh, making a sharp bolt of warmth shoot down your body.
"yeah," he says finally, voice low and rough. "that sounds about right."
you glance at him. "what does that mean?"
he paused for a second. "guys your age," he continues, calm but edged with something sharper now. "they don't know what to do with a woman like you."
your stomach flips in a way that is impossible to ignore. "and you do?" you ask teasingly, trying to keep your tone steady.
his thumb shifts slightly against your thigh slightly. butterflies erupted in your stomach and your thighs shifted in a way you couldn't help, trying to disregard the heat between your legs.
"i wouldn't ignore you," he says simply.
the air in car seems to shift as you swallow hard, glancing out the window before looking back at him. "you barely know me."
"i know enough," he answers.
your breath catches slightly. namjoon's hand stays sat on your thigh steadily, like he knows exactly what it's doing to you.
"and i definitely wouldn't have you asking for anything," he adds. his words land deeper than they should, etching themselves into the back of your mind without asking.
you let out a quiet, almost nervous laugh. "you're very confident."
"i'm honest," he says. he pauses for a moment. then, his voice drops just a little—"big difference."
you look at him again, thoroughly scanning his face this time. "you always talk like that?" you ask.
"only when i mean it."
another silence settles between you, this time sitting thick; heavy with everything both of you haven't said. his hand finally shifts, but not away from you. it only slides higher along your thigh before settling again.
"relax, doll," he murmurs softly, voice low and deep.
you exhale slowly, trying to steady yourself. "you're doing that on purpose."
"doing what?"
you shake your head slightly. "you know exactly what."
a faint smirk pulls at his lips. "yeah," he answers. "i do."
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
suddenly, the rest of the drive feels too short.
namjoon pulls to your curb, parking swiftly with one hand before cutting the engine. silence fills the space, neither of you reaching for the door immediately.
you look down at your hands, then back up, like you're about to say something—but the words don't come as easily now. because everything, from the restaurant, the drive is still sitting in between you. his hand, his voice. doll.
"you got quiet again," he says softly.
you let out a small breath. "you make it hard not to."
he stills ever so slightly, like your words had pulled something out of him. "do i?" he asks.
you look at him, holding his intense gaze this time. "yeah."
he pauses for longer than normal, eventually moving his hand before his mouth. he starts slow—not to your thigh this time—but higher. his fingers lift, brushing lightly along your jaw. just the tips, tracing the line like he needed to memorize it.
your breath catches immediately, peering up at him through your eyelashes as you seemingly couldn't look away from his face. he tilts his head slightly, watching your reaction closely.
"you always look like this when you're thinking?" he murmurs.
your voice comes out quieter than you expect. "like what?"
his thumb lingers beneath just beneath your chin for just a second. then it shifts slightly, guiding your face just enough so that you're looking directly at him and nothing else.
"like you're trying to figure out if this is a good idea," he says.
your heart practically stumbles. because he absolutely was right. "and?" you ask quietly.
a small smirk pulls at his mouth. but this one was softer, like it was more certainty than teasing. "i think you already decided," he murmurs. his gaze drops briefly, down to your lips, then back up again. this time, he doesn't even try to hide it.
"you're dangerous, you know that?" you say, barely above a whisper.
he leans in slightly, his scent taking over your lungs. "yeah?"
your breath is uneven now. "yeah."
his gaze drifts again, over your face, slower this time. fully taking you in. "you still thinking about the age thing?" he asks.
"no," you respond, holding the burning eye contact.
he studies you for half a second, like he's deciding if you're telling the truth. then, he exhales quietly, almost amusedly. "yeah," he says. "didn't think you would."
his hand lifts from your chin before resting lightly at your waist, thumb pressing just slightly before easing.
"probably better for you," he adds, voicer lower now, teasing but grounded in something real and deep, "if you didn't get used to someone like me."
your stomach flips instantly. "who says i'm getting used to you?" you shoot back, trying to play it off.
a smile tugs at his lips. "doll," he murmurs, softer and closer, the warmth of his breath hitting your neck. "you're already here."
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
a few days later, namjoon sends you an address located in the corner of a private street in LA telling you to meet him there. telling you that he wanted to show you something.
a building tucked slightly off the main road, close enough to the water that the air already feels different when you step out of the car.
you hesitate for a half a second before going in. not nervous, but just a little too aware of what you were walking into. with a few instructed taps on the door buzzer, you were let in.
inside, the hallway light is dim, soft lights lining the walls that were decorated with award cases, album posters, and framed vinyls. the floors were sleek and bass echoed through the walls.
you followed the sound the sound down the hallway, until you find a studio door that's slightly open. the gold plate on it reading, "kim namjoon" then below it, "head executive producer."
you exhale softly, heart slightly stopping at that and swallowing a little too hard before you push it gently, and that's when you see him.
sitting at the main console, leaning forward slightly, elbows resting near the soundboard. one hand adjusting a dial, the other resting against his chin like he's listening too closely.
he was so immersed that he hadn't noticed you yet.
the room was lowly lit—colored LEDS instead of overhead lights, the glow from the equipment reflecting softly against his face.
and there's something about him like this—focused, quiet, and completely in his element—that hits differently, making your stomach twist into a knot.
his sleeves are pushed up again, glistening watch catching the light as he moves his hand. a chain rests below his collar, barely visible, but sparkling in the light.
everything about him is so simple, but it fits him all too well. you don't mean to stare, but you definitely do.
and then, like he felt it—namjoon finally glances up. your eyes immediately meet, and you swear you felt a spark flash through your body.
for a split second, he doesn't say anything. he just looks at you, gaze taking you in deliberately.
then, he licks his lips so lightly you almost don't catch it. "you just going to stand there," he says, voice low and soft. "or are you coming in?"
you blink, snapping out of your trance slightly. "i-i didn't want to interrupt."
"you didn't," he replies easily. but his eyes linger on you for a second longer, almost like he knew you were watching him.
you step inside, softly closing the door behind you. the white lighting from the hallway had disappeared now, fully engulfing you into his world—his studio, his creative space—the place where he made every hit even possible. the big room suddenly felt smaller now, more private.
you look around, taking it all in. the walls are boarded with soundproof panels, and large speakers are placed around the sleek equipment. there's two chairs, a beanbag, and couch with folders of music sheets and lyrics scattered on the floor and on counter tops. "this is... really nice."
"mm," he hums, leaning back in his chair and spreading his legs slightly. "it works."
you glance at him. "you say everything like that."
"like what?"
"like it's not a big deal."
a faint smirk. "it's not."
you roll your eyes, but a smile tugs at your lips. he gestures towards the seat next to him. "come here." it wasn't a question.
you walk over, sitting beside him—closer than expected, immediately greeted by his warmth and the musk of his cologne.
he turns towards the console, grabbing a pair of high-end headphones. "listen to this," he says. he brushes a strand of hair behind your ear before carefully placing them over your head.
music plays—smooth and layered. it had no lyrics, but it was already catchy. you hummed in delight. "it's really good," you said softly, gently taking the headphones off.
"i know," he replies casually.
you laugh. "you're insufferable."
he glances at you, a smirk forming. "you're still here though."
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
after a few minutes of namjoon showing you some buttons, he glances at you. "you want to try something?"
you look at him, a bit hesitant. "like what?"
he shifts slightly, turning your chair just enough so that your angled more towards the board. "come on," he says, nodding towards the controls. "i'll show you."
"...i feel like i'm going to mess something up," you say.
"you won't."
"how do you know?"
he leans in slightly, his breath hitting your neck ever so slightly. "because i'm right here."
your stomach flips again. he reaches around you slightly, one hand bracing lightly against the edge of the console near you, the other guiding your hand toward a dial.
“turn this,” he says, voice lower now, near your ear.
you try to focus. you really do. but namjoon is close. too close. his warmth spilling all over you, hitting you in all the places that made your thighs pull closer together.
you turn the dial slowly—and immediately the sound distorts in a ridiculous way. you both pause.
"...was that supposed to happen?" you ask.
he stares at the board for a second before a short laugh escapes him, dimples tugging at his cheeks. "no," he says.
you burst out laughing. "i told you!"
he shakes his head with another laugh, reaching forward to fix it, his arm brushing yours again. "you didn't break it," he says. "relax."
"i definitely did something."
"you did," he replies with a smile. "just not what i said."
you laugh again, softer this time.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
you're standing now, not sitting anymore.
because namjoon told you to.
“stand here,” he said, guiding you lightly by the waist until you were in front of the soundboard. no asking, just placing you there. you stiffened under his touch that sent a light shock through you.
"relax, doll," he murmurs behind you. the deep baritone of his voice hitting a little too close.
you exhale slowly, trying to focus on the board in front of you—but it's hard when you can feel him right behind you. he steps in closer, practically pressing you together.
one hand reaches around you, bracing against the console. the other finds yours, fingers sliding over yours, adjusting your grip on one of the controls. "not like that," he says, low. "too quick."
"i'm not doing anything fast," you defend weakly, trying your best to sound steady.
you hear a quiet, almost amused exhale behind you. "yeah?" he murmurs deeply.
his chest brushes lightly against your back as he leans in closer, guiding your hand again—slower this time. "you rush when you're nervous."
"i'm not nervous."
"mm," he hums, unconvinced. his hand tightens slightly over yours, turning the dial with you. the sound shifts, smoother this time. "like that," he says.
but he doesn't move away, not even a little bit. you swallow, your body hyper-aware of every point of contact. his hand over yours, his chest behind you, his voice vibrating your ear. and you definitely tried to ignore something hard resting against your ass.
"you do this with everyone?" you ask.
"no," he answered simply.
at to that, your heart stumbled. his hand left yours, but only came to settle at your waist, firm and steady. in his grip he turned you slightly—not fully, but enough to turn your attention away from the board and onto him. "you're distracted again," he murmured.
you let out a soft breath. "you keep saying that like it's my fault."
a smirk pulls at his lips, one that you can practically hear in his voice. "doll," he says lowly, "you haven't been focused since you walked in."
your stomach flips as you turn your head slightly, giving just enough space to look back at him—but it's a mistake. because he's already looking at you, his face much closer than expected and barely any space left between you now.
"you always get like this?" he asks softly.
"like what?"
his gaze drops slowly, then back up again. "quiet." he pauses. "...when you feel something."
your breath catches. "you act like you know me," you say.
"i do," he replies casually. those words shouldn't hit you as hard as they do, but they do anyway—causing your heart to leap.
he shifts you fully this time, making you fully face him as his large hands still rested at your waist, thumbs pressing in ever so slightly.
"or maybe," he adds, voice quieter now. "you're just not used to someone who pays attention."
your chest rises slowly. "and you do?"
"to you?" he asks quietly, something flickering across his eyes. "of course i do."
a small pause. "i wouldn't ignore you," he mutters in your ear, breath hot down your neck in a way that makes your hairs stand up. his hand tightens slightly against you. "not like they did."
his words land, striking the base of your heart deeply. "and i definitely wouldn't have you guessing where you stand."
your breath is uneven now, but you can't seem to look away. "confident," you murmur.
"experienced," he corrects simply. his voice and his head dips lower just slightly—"difference is...i know how to treat a woman like you properly."
and suddenly the last thread holding you steady is already gone. you exhale softy, almost a laugh, but not quite. "you always talk like this?"
"only when i mean it."
silence fills the space around you, heavy and close. one of his hands lifts from your waist slowly before coming to your jaw and tracing along it deliberately, just like he did before.
his thumb sits at your chin, tilting your face up just slightly. it takes everything in you for your knees to not buckle right then and there, taking in his low, piercing gaze.
"you keep looking at me like that," you whisper.
"like what, hm?" he asks, voice low as he tilts his head lower, leaving little space between your noses. you felt like your whole world was spinning, trying to ground yourself properly without clinging onto him.
"like you're about to do something."
he pauses for a split second, licking his lips while his eyes practically swirled with darkness. then—low and certain—"i am."
and this time, namjoon doesn't stop himself. he leans in, fully closing the last bit of distance between you, crashing his lips onto yours. it's immediate—but not rushed. he kisses you slow, deep, like he's been holding it back for too long and finally had decided he was done.
you respond quickly, completely melting under the contact and moving your lips into his. your breath catches against his, one hand instinctively finding one of his big arms, while the other gripped on his shirt to steady yourself— because it hits you all at once.
the way he pulls you closer against him, one of his hands firmly settled at your waist while the other holds your head possessively, gently tilting your head at an angle that allowed him to kiss you deeper.
you lean into him without thinking—and he feels it, of course. he hooks his fingers around the belt loop of your denim skirt, pulling you even closer. the kiss deepens—but it isn't overwhelming. it's certain, like he wanted to take his time with his lips against yours.
your fingers tightened against him, causing him to exhale quietly against your lips, like he had been waiting for that exact response from you.
when you both pull back, you barely move an inch. foreheads close, breath uneven, and neither of you pulling away. his hands remain at your waist, yours still on him.
and after a second of catching your breath—namjoon leans in again. not because he's testing it anymore, but because he wants it—no, he needs it again. and you seem to meet him there just as fast.
his lips capture yours for the second time that night, practically taking your breath with him. your thighs press together slightly as you kiss him back, your hand sliding higher along his arm, gripping his bicep and pulling him closer without even realizing it.
his grip tightens slightly. "don't start something you can't finish, doll..." he murmurs quietly against your lips, voice rough.
the kiss suddenly shifts, not messy or rushed—but hungry. namjoon's hand slid shamelessly down your waist and onto your ass, sliding up and down its curve like it was already his.
that pulled a gasp out of you, and he saw it as the perfect opportunity to slide his tongue into your mouth. you allow him, opening your mouth more to let him further explore it with his tongue. your lips practically molded together, saliva mixing as he swirled his tongue around yours.
"look at you..." he mutters, barely pulling back, his thumb brushing your jaw again. "so responsive."
your stomach flips more times than you can count. "don't—" you start, breath uneven, but you can't even finish the sentence before you feel dampness between your legs.
"don't what, baby?" he asks lowly, smirking faintly against your lips. "don't notice you?"
he kisses you again before you can answer. his hand slides up from your ass, up your waist to your side—slower and more deliberate, before settling it there again, like he's grounding you there with him.
your grip on him tightens, deepening the kiss without intending to. "doll..." he murmurs, quietly now like it's a warning.
but he doesn't stop, and you most certainly don't want him to. all of a sudden namjoon is moving, guiding you back without breaking the kiss, step by step, until the back of your legs hit the couch.
you exhale softly in surprise—before you're sitting and he is too, pulling you with him. now, you find yourself on his lap—straddled on top of him with his hands firmly gripping your thighs and with everything much closer.
your hands find his broad shoulders, this time holding onto him like you desperately need to steady yourself, leaning into him once more. and namjoon notices, like he always does.
a low exhale leaves him, almost like a quiet laugh. "not pulling away anymore, are you, baby?" he murmurs, brushing his lips along your jaw slowly while his big palms drag up and down your thighs.
his plush lips trace the line of your jaw, littering soft kisses and your head tilts slightly to give him space without even thinking about it. "good," he praises quietly against your skin, lips trailing their way down your neck.
as he presses soft kisses along your neck, one of his hands presses a little firmer into your thigh, keeping you against him as the other rested gently at your neck—not enough to put pressure—but enough for your mind to go blank and make your thighs noticeably shift.
your breath hitches just above him, and his other hand soothes slowly against your thigh to steady you. "you have no idea..." he murmurs, lightly digging his teeth into your skin, making you shudder. "how hard i was trying to take my time with you."
your fingers tighten against him, struggling to ignore the unbearable ache in your core. "then why aren't you?" you manage softly, voice weaker than usual, knowing you didn't want that.
he paused for a moment, the warmth of his breath tingling down your neck and through your spine. his voice comes lower this time, but steadier. "because you stopped me from wanting to."
he pulls back just enough to look at you again, dark and low eyes trailing every inch of your face. his hand comes up, brushing your hair behind your ear slowly, slower than before.
"you're trouble, princess," he says lowly, another nickname rolling off his tongue with ease. "but i like it."
your breath is still uneven, your heart racing faster than your mind—but you don't look away. "good," you murmur.
namjoon's jaw tightens slightly at that—not in frustration, but in complete restraint. what's left of it, at least.
his hand that rested along your neck slid up, tilting your chin upwards with his thumb once again, making sure that you were really looking at him. "you sure about this, doll?" he asks lowly.
you nod without hesitation. "yes."
a small pause fills the thick, small space between you, but his smoldering gaze doesn't leave yours. his gentle hold on your jaw tightens ever so slightly—not to harm you, but to ground you into the moment. "you understand...i'm not the kind of man you forget after this."
your breath catches, but you don't pull back. "i know," you say softly, holding his gaze.
his hands return to your waist, firmer this time, pulling you just slightly closer to him—close enough that space barely existed anymore. "yeah..." he murmured, his thumb tracing lightly along your skin. "then stay with me."
you nearly shuddered from his words, the warmth of his body on yours surrounding you and making your skin tingle. "i will," you nearly whispered, praying that he couldn't feel the dampness between your legs at the thought of never leaving his side.
"good," he grunted in your ear, hot breath spilling down your neck. he pulled back just slightly before closing the space between you once again, tilting your head with his thumb and pulling your lips in with his unhurriedly.
you immediately softened into him as you moved your lips together, your chest immediately becoming flush against his and practically folding underneath his touch. his hands left your waist, finding their grip lower and onto your ass, holding you steadily against him while his tongue explored you once more.
his lips left yours to litter your neck with kisses—sloppy and open-mouthed this time, sucking harder and marking a trail of red marks down to your collarbone. you whimpered with every suck, thighs noticeably shifting against his legs.
namjoon's slender fingers found their way underneath your top, sliding it up slowly—like he was waiting for you to stop him—but you never did. you only complied, lifting your arms up. and in one swift motion, your top was off, and his lips already found themselves on your cleavage.
"so beautiful, baby," he murmured into your skin, tongue lightly lapping against the mark he had just made on top of your breast.
suddenly you felt his big palms on your waist once again before he manhandled you—lifting you up and lying you gently across the couch before his large figure quickly filled your vision and filling up your entire view.
all you could see in the ambient light of his studio was his broad shoulders, his low, piercing eyes, and glimmering chain now hanging in front of your face before he captured your lips again. you practically moaned into it, fingers gripping tightly into his shirt like you needed more.
"fuck," he murmured against you between kisses, intertwining his long fingers with yours, dragging your palm deliberately up his chest. your hands moved before your mind, tugging him closer by his shirt and immediately fumbling with the buttons.
he smirked, large hands moving to help you take it off. once he tossed it somewhere in the room, your hands danced around his body greedily, trailing over his abs, from his chiseled chest and to his swell back.
"should be taking you to my house like a fuckin' man. should fuck you in my bed slow 'n proper. but i've lost my patience with you, doll," he breathed lowly, licking his lips with hunger.
you could only bring yourself to whimper, as namjoon's big palm creeped around your thigh, trailing every so slowly inwards before stopping. your legs couldn't help but twitch helplessly underneath his touch, causing him to let out an amused breath of air.
"but you don't want that, do you?" he asked lowly in your ear, the desire in his voice making your core ache with unbearable need. his hands trailed closer to your heat, dragging his fingers leisurely against your inner thigh.
you shook your head desperately, but that wasn't enough for him. his fingers hooked around your skirt. "wanna hear you use that pretty mouth of yours, baby."
"i—yes—" you blurted breathlessly, struggling to find the words. "i want it—want you. here, joonie. right now."
his cock strained even harder against his pants. "good girl," he muttered before pulling your skirt down. when it was disregarded, namjoon's hands found your thighs again and you suddenly felt his long fingers trace against slowly against your sopping heat barely shielded by your lacy thong, sending a shiver down your entire body.
"wet for me already and i haven't even started with you," he smirked, finally hooking your panties to the side and letting your soaking core be hit by the cold air. your thighs instinctively went to clamp shut, but he quickly stopped them with his big hands.
"so sensitive, doll," he murmured, placing one big thumb just above your clit while the other fingers outlined your inner thigh. "guys your age don't take their time like this, do they?"
you shook your head immediately, whining out before his fingers glided up slowly against your wetness, his index finger swiping in between your folds. his thumb rubbed your clit in a long circle, pulling out a desperate whine out of your mouth.
finally, he pushed one long finger in between your folds, sliding into your hole that sucked him in, your wetness gushing his fingers. you whined loudly as he dragged it along your walls before plunging back in.
namjoon closed the distance between your faces, capturing your lips in with his and sucking on your bottom lip as he inserted another finger, thrusting into you at a steady pace while his thumb remained on your clit.
when he pulled away, it was only to align his face at your entrance. his hand firmly gripped onto your thighs, holding you in place. his fingers slowed inside of you as his nose came close to your core, the warmth of his breath directly hitting your pussy and making you twitch underneath him.
a small smirk pulled at his lips before he poked his tongue out, licking a light, gentle stripe against your folds. "mm, taste so sweet, baby."
you reacted immediately, thighs clenching around his head in a way he enjoyed a bit too much, his free hand wrapping around your leg firmly as he lapped delicately at your entrance.
you moaned his name, legs finally relaxing under his grip as he took his time with soaking your taste on his tongue. namjoon couldn't help but smirk against your folds, his plump lips completely enveloping your pussy into his mouth and sucking your wetness in hungrily.
it wasn't long before you felt his tongue greedily prying through your entrance, crying out in breathless moans. his two fingers stretched open your walls to allow more room for him to explore you with his tongue.
namjoon was absolutely driving you over the edge—his tongue plunged through your tight walls like no other, slender fingers stroking your insides while his thumb massaged your clit vigorously. he ate at you like he had starved for this—your back immediately curving off of the couch as you felt unbearable pressure twine into your stomach.
"that's it, doll," he cooed against your folds, his nose sitting on top of your clit. then, his voice dropped lower—"cum for me."
and so you did—completely letting go as your first orgasm tore through you like lightning. your legs shook around namjoon's head, his free hand rubbing against your thigh gently while his two fingers slowed inside of you. his tongue moved against your folds slowly, taking in every last drop of your release between his lips.
when your body was finally at ease from the state of euphoria he took you to, namjoon trailed kisses from your stomach and up, his hands gently caressing your sides.
"look at you taking me so good," he murmured between kisses, lips on yours now. "think you're ready for my cock, hm, baby?"
you nodded quickly, practically squirming beneath him. "yes joon—need it so bad." your fingers found his belt loop—his large hands finding yours immediately, helping you take off his pants entirely.
it was then when you saw the largest imprint strained tightly against his boxers, making you swallow hard without even realizing. his fingers looped around the hem, taking them off in a swift motion as he stood up.
his cock sprung out in front of you—thick, long, and angry with pre-cum glistening at the end. you sat up straight, jaw slightly slack without even realizing. namjoon's lips fought a smirk as he hovered over you, large shoulders swell and thick member curving up.
his low eyes looked down at you, clouded with darkness. he wrapped his large hand around the thick base of his cock, stroking slightly while taking in the sight of you in front of him.
"fuck," he grunted, "don't got any condoms, baby."
"it's okay, joon," you replied softly.
"you sure, doll?" he asked, tracing his fingers lightly against your jaw, tilting your head to look up at him fully.
you nodded. "wanna feel all of you," you said almost shyly.
"have no clue what you're doing to me," he responded lowly, almost to himself. then namjoon leaned down, grabbing your hips and lifting you up swiftly. you yelped in surprise as he sat down, bringing you back on top of his lap. only this time, you were skin to skin, your arousal miserably smearing onto his legs.
but he didn't seem to care. his large hands rubbed softly down your sides as he licked his lips. "you're so small, baby," he muttered in your ear, his thumb pressing into the side of your hip. "might break you."
"that's okay," you whispered, peering up at him with big, needy eyes.
"yeah?" he asked darkly, like your response had just snapped the last bit of restraint left in him. he held onto your hips firmly as he pulled you up, aligning your entrance with his cock. "gonna ruin you then, baby."
your hands gripped onto his broad shoulders immediately to steady yourself, his fat tip pushing through your folds and breaking into your tight entrance. you moaned out in a mix of pleasure and pain, feeling every inch of his width pushing slowly into your walls as you sunk down fully on his lap.
his grasp on you became tighter as he guided you further down, hissing in pleasure as he split you open widely with his cock. your eyes shut tight as your inner thighs kissed his. slowly, the tip of his member found the back of your walls, your head throwing back from the overwhelming stretch.
namjoon held you against him firmly, allow you to fully adjust to his length before he captured your lips into a kiss. "it's okay, doll," he murmured against you. "you're taking me so well."
after a minute of soft, warm coos in your ear—namjoon began to slide you up and down his vast length slowly with his large hands, emitting a loud whine from your lips. soon, he picked his pace, his cock repeatedly kissing the deepest part of your hole. "good baby... that's it," he praised lowly.
your head was filled with nothing but the thought of you, him, and his fat cock curving up inside of you and exploring your walls. he took you to a pure state of euphoria as he thrusted up in you. his hold was firm on you as he bounced you up and down his cock.
your eyes fluttered at your view, melting under his piercing gaze— his jaw tightened in pleasure and concentration, low eyes scanning your fucked-out expression hungrily. you nearly screamed in pleasure.
"such a good girl for me," he grunted in your ear, one large palm trailing up your sides before resting along your neck. his fingers wrapped around it slightly—not enough to hurt, but enough to apply pressure that made your mind dizzy and your pussy clench his member tightly.
his other hand came firmer around your waist before suddenly you were moving—your head being guided back down on the couch while your body was being manhandled by namjoon while he kept his cock buried deep inside of you. one hand settled beside your head while the other remained grazing your throat lightly.
once you both fully adjusted to the new position, namjoon continued to thrust in you, roaming your pussy at an entirely new angle. your wetness gushed around his cock sloppily, filling the room with lewd slapping noises. "you fit around me so well, doll," he muttered breathlessly, breath shooting down your spine as he littered messy kisses along your neck.
his hand traveled from your throat down to your thighs, finding your clit and rubbing it softly. you were a moaning mess beneath him as he fucked you relentlessly now, tip slapping messily against the spongiest part of your walls, making your mind go blank.
his palm found its way around your thigh, lifting it above his shoulder. he closed the distance between you two, cock greedily marking a place inside your hole in a way no one had ever done before as his chest pressed against yours.
he rutted his length inside of you, making your eyes roll back and the couch move back and forth with every movement. "gonna fill you up tonight, doll. gonna make you mine," he murmured. "what do you think, baby?"
you could only moan in response, lost in the feeling of his cock buried so deeply inside of you. "nuh uh," namjoon ticked lowly, his thrusts becoming brutal. "wanna hear that pretty voice of yours, baby."
"mmph—yes~ make me yours, joon," you whined breathlessly.
you cried out—heat coiling unbearably in your stomach, pure bliss clouding your mind as namjoon picked up his pace, feeling your walls hugging him in tightly. "yeah... right where you belong baby," he muttered. "taking me so good like this."
your second orgasm of the night hit you even harder this time—ripping through you like a monstrous ocean wave. he fucked you through your high, your legs shaking violently against him; release spilling all over his cock as you moaned out his name breathlessly.
"that's it, baby," he grunted lowly as he made his final, slower thrusts, burying himself inside you as deep as possible before releasing his hot seed into your walls. "come on my dick, pretty girl."
your vision was practically filled with stars as your body became limp under his grasp. he milked his cock deep in your walls before he pulled out with a sharp hiss, laying down beside you—lengthy body half on the couch and half off of it.
you both laid there next to each other breathless, chests moving up and down in sync as you processed what had just happened.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
suddenly, the studio is quiet again.
it wasn't completely silent—just the low hum of equipment filling the room with one of his tracks still looping quietly in the background.
clothes half-on, curled against him on the couch with his large arm around your waist, holding you close against his chest like he had no intention of letting you drift away.
for awhile, neither of you say anything. namjoon's fingers moved slowly against your side, absentmindedly tracing soft patterns into your skin. the movement only grounded you into him more.
then finally, a low exhale left namjoon's lips. "c'mere," he murmurs softly, even though you were already pressed against him. his big hands slid higher along your back, pulling you in even closer anyway until your head was resting properly against his chest.
it only made your cheeks flush a bright red—the moment feeling possessive in a way that was ever so gentle. like he just needed to make sure you were still there. now, you can hear his heartbeat. it thumps steadily now against his large chest.
"you okay?" he asks quietly.
you nod against him. "yeah," you reply softly.
then his lips brush lightly against the top of your head, placing a soft kiss that lingers. "good," he murmurs.
something about the way he said it made warmth spread through your chest again. his hand settles at your waist once more, thumb brushing lightly beneath the fabric of your top. "you still overthinking?" he asks after a minute.
you let out a small laugh against his chest. "maybe a little."
a quiet hum leaves him. "don't."
you tilt your head slightly to look at him. his expression is softer now. his gaze still intense—because he always looks intense when looking at you—but softer. "you regret it?" he asks gently.
you shook your head immediately. "no," you replied, meaning it with everything in your chest.
at your words, something in namjoon's expressions shifts. it wasn't surprise, it was only something deeper. his hand moves to your jaw, thumb brushing slowly along your cheek.
"good," he says again, quieter this time. then, like his confidence had just made a return—"would've been a problem if you did."
you laugh softly, cheeks warming again. "you're crazy, joon."
"for you?" he murmurs. "starting to think maybe."
your stomach flips all over again. namjoon studies you for a second, gaze moving slowly across your face like he's memorizing it. like he still can't believe that you're here. with him, and in his arms.
his hand slides along your thigh gently. this time, it isn't teasing. instead, it feels familiar and warm. "come back to my place," he says quietly.
you hesitate for maybe half a second, but only because your heart is racing faster than your mind. his thumb brushes lightly against your leg. "you don't have to leave, doll," he murmurs.
"you sure?" you ask quietly. because in your past, once guys were done, they were done with your presence for the night—or even forever.
"of course," he says. then, a faint smile touches his mouth, voice dropping a little. "i'm not doing being around you."
and it only seemed that you weren't exactly done being around him either.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
two months later, being with namjoon feels easy. and it wasn't because he was simple. it was the exact opposite.
he's still intense, but still composed. he still walks through every room like he owns it without needing attention from anyone in it. but with you? he's soft in all the places it matters.
namjoon becomes part of your life so naturally it almost scares you sometimes.
mornings tangled up in his expensive sheets while sunlight pours through the massive windows of his house that overlooks the city. his large hand resting on your waist while he scrolls through emails lazily with the other. his bright smile on display every time he made you laugh or blush.
in his free time, he'd show up to your work with your favorite dinner meal. sometimes, he'd sit at a table in your section and order food just to be able to talk to you any chance you'd get.
afternoons where he pulls you into his lap while he's working on music. he'd barely let you sit more than a foot away from him before he was already touching you again somehow.
his fingers through your hair, your legs draped over his. his mouth against your temple when he quietly tells someone important over the phone that he'll "call back later."
and of course, he spoils you constantly. it wasn't in a loud way either. it was more like taking care of you and putting a smile on your face had just become his instinct.
he buys you things you casually mention liking once. he leaves designer bags on the bed like it's nothing. he'd get annoyed when you'd check price tags. he would sneakily place things in your basket at sephora as he trailed behind you, filling it up with everything you simply picked up and looked at.
you even tried to avoid going shopping with him sometimes because you never happened to pay for anything again.
"doll," he murmured one night, pulling your back against his chest, wrapping his large arms around you while you stared at a pair of brand new, christian louboutin red bottoms that he bought you. "if you like them, they're yours. stop thinking so hard."
and god, he hated it when you worked too much. he hated it even more when work stressed you out.
"you should call out," he tells you one morning, voice rough from sleep while you're leaving his bed for work.
you laugh softly. "some of us have to work, joonie."
his buff arms loop around your waist, pulling you back into the mattress effortlessly. "i know," he murmurs against your neck, nuzzling his nose into your warmth. "that's the problem."
eventually, namjoon starts saying it more seriously.
"quit," he says.
you look at him like he's insane every time. "be serious, joon."
"i am serious."
his hands slide along your thighs as you stand between his knees while he sits at the edge of the bed, looking up at you with that same, calm certainty he’s always had.
“i’ll give you whatever you need,” he says simply. “why are you stressing yourself out when you don’t have to?”
and the craziest part of it all to you, was that he meant it entirely. it wasn't because he wanted control—it was because taking care of you pulled at his dimples and his heart more than anything else ever had.
somewhere along the way, you became each other's favorite part of life. people notice too and eventually, the internet catches on.
a photo of you two start surfacing of you leaving restaurant in west hollywood, his hand firm at the small of your back. then, photos of him opening the door for you. and photos of him looking at you instead of the camera.
one set of paparazzi pictures blow up incredibly fast—you climbing into his car while he stands beside you in sunglasses and all black. one hand casually resting against the roof above your head, the other firm on your thigh as you settled into the seat.
neither of you comment on it, not publicly at least. but namjoon doesn't hide you either. because if anything—he loved being seen with you.
you noticed it in the small moments. the way his hand settled on your thigh more confidently when people recognized him on a date. the way he pulled you closer when cameras appeared. the way he looks almost amused by attention instead of irritated.
it was like he was always thinking, yeah, she's with me.
namjoon flexed you more than the music plaques on his wall or the collection of sleek cars in his driveway.
because throughout his entire career, no success, no hit record, or no amount of money—had ever made him look at proud as you do sitting beside him.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
4 months later~
the city outside namjoon's windows is glowing gold and white beneath the dark sky, soft music playing quietly somewhere in his giant house.
you're curled against him on the couch in one of his hoodies. legs across his lap while he scrolls lazily through something on his phone with one hand resting absentmindedly along your thighs.
you both had been like this all evening. quiet and comfortable; surrounded by the kind of silence that only exists when two people know everything about each other completely.
honestly, it could scare you a little. because somewhere along these four months, you and namjoon had stopped feeling temporary. it stopped feeling like some kind of whirlwind or fling.
instead, it just started feeling right. it just felt like you and him and nothing else completely belonged.
you looked over at him. observed the sharp line of his jaw that was softened by the warm lighting. the expensive watch sitting around his wrist. the reading glasses he only wore at home that sat low on his nose while he checked emails.
the realization hit you about a month ago so hard and your chest had felt tight ever since. you were completely, undeniably, and utterly in love with him. but now, you couldn't seem to hold it in anymore.
"you're staring again."
your heart jumps slightly. namjoon doesn't even look up from his phone when he says it. you roll your eyes. "you're obsessed with yourself."
a smirk touches his lips. "no," he murmurs calmly, finally looking over at you. "just obsessed with you."
you look away before he can see your flushed face, but of course he already noticed it. because there simply wasn't a thing he didn't notice about you. his phone turned off immediately. "hey," he said gently.
your eyes lift back to his. immediately his expression changes into something softer, but more serious. his hands slide up from your thigh to your waist, pulling you a little closer across the couch until you're practically in his lap. "what's going on in that head, hm?" he asks.
"nothing."
"liar."
the words are gentle, affectionate in a way. you laugh softly, but it comes out nervous. he catches that too. one hand comes up, brushing lightly along your jaw. "talk to me, doll."
you swallow. your voice comes out quietly—"what if... i love you more than you love me?"
the room goes completely still. namjoon stares at you for seconds that stretch far too long, like you had just said something completely. unbelievable.
his brows pulled together. "baby," he says softly, confused, "what?"
your heart pounds instantly at the name. you try to laugh it off, suddenly embarrassed now. "i don't know, i just—"
"no," he cuts in, hands tightening gently at your waist. they weren't harsh, but it was enough to stop you from spiraling away. "no, don't do that."
you looked back at him. and the way he was looking at you now—god. like this mattered. like you mattered.
"you really think you're ahead of me here?" he asks quietly, eyes boring into yours.
your breath catches as namjoon shifts closer, forehead resting lighting against yours. "i've been in love with you for a while now," he admitted softly.
for a second, you felt like you actually stopped breathing. his thumb brushed slowly against your cheek. "you just took longer to realize it."
a shaky laugh leaves you instantly, eyes burning now. namjoon smiles softly at that, an expression you only ever get to see.
"i love you," he says again, quieter this time. but it was certain, as if it were the most obvious thing it the world.
and suddenly every fear you had—about the age gap, about his fame, about his feelings for you—had totally disappeared. because this man—this calm, confident, impossible man—loves you so deeply that he didn't even hesitate to say it.
your eyes fluttered in disbelief, laughing away the butterflies in your stomach. "i love you too."
the smile that breaks across is face is small, but almost disbelieving. but it was unquestionably proud, like he had just won something prized. after that, he kissed you slowly. he enveloped your lips with his tenderly, soaking in all of your warmth beneath him.
"there you are," he murmurs softly. like you were always meant to end up here with him.
and somewhere between the side of the road and his arms, your little street thing had become everything.
‧₊˚📀✩♬ ₊˚.
a/n : hope u guys loved this as much as i do eee! sorry there was so much relationship building... this is the longest bts fic i've made (on this app at least) omg..but joon is actually so sexy i could die.
could see this turning into a small series bc they’re lowk otp!! hehe :3 but who knows...
love u guys sm <3 read more of my joon fics here !!
summary: courting gifts can be anything. a pretty necklace. a bracelet. maybe even a ring, if you’re bold. but vernon gives you socks, and you don’t know what to make of them.
pairing: alpha!vernon x omega!reader
word count: 7.2k
warnings: omegaverse au, abo dynamics, fluff, some humor, best friend!omega!seungkwan, misunderstandings but not angsty, mentions of heat and pre heat, smut, nsfw, fingering, thigh riding, multiple orgasms, knotting.
Hansol Vernon Chwe takes being an alpha very seriously. But not in the way conventional alphas would.
For example, when someone asks Vernon what he thinks an ideal alpha should be, he has some points that he will count off, a checklist of sorts in his head, requirements of being a good alpha, in his opinion. An alpha has to be strong, not physically, but mentally. He needs to be reliable, stable, someone the people around him can lean on. An alpha has to be intelligent and aware. He has to anticipate his omega’s needs and provide accordingly. Not just financially, but with thoughtful actions. An alpha must be nurturing, and he knows this is the point everyone around him gets hung up on. ‘Nurturing’? That’s typically a term associated with omegas. But Vernon stands by it. Alphas have to care, to be there emotionally, to make sure their omegas have them not just physically, but to love them for their emotions as well, to shift and release pheromones that will calm their omegas. Alphas have to be providers past the actual, financial implications of the word.
So Vernon vows to himself that if he ever gets the opportunity to be an alpha for someone, he would be the one that fits his exacting, rigid standards. That opportunity comes when he meets you.
You’re Seungkwan’s friend, which isn’t surprising. Pretty much anyone Vernon knows, he knows because they are Seungkwan’s friend. Vernon can’t understand how in hell Seungkwan can keep up with such a large friend circle. He knows everybody. But it helps indirectly because Vernon doesn’t go out of his way to meet people, so Seungkwan almost acts like the proxy for his social life.
That’s exactly how he met you.
Vernon almost didn’t go, since it was just supposed to be some kind of game night for Seungkwan’s study group. But Seungkwan insisted, really insisted, and Vernon had bailed on the last two social events Seungkwan asked him to come with, so he had to give in. He’s so glad that he did.
Just the scent of you makes him stiffen, which is very unlike him. Vernon isn’t usually much affected by omegas, hell, his best friend is an omega. But you smell so sweet, in this light and fresh way that almost energises him. Your smile is so bright as you introduce yourself, hair swaying when your head moves, and Vernon’s fingers twitch with the urge to touch. He has to visibly shake his head and blink, quickly introducing himself and shutting up so that he doesn’t act like a fool. You’re so pretty, and your voice is so calming and friendly. Vernon has this deep feeling in his chest that he wants to stay around you. Right by your side.
He hangs out with you twice more after that, all in big groups, but he manages to get near you anyhow. You’re so interesting to him. You talk about your major with a passion he can never muster, a fire in your eyes, your long term plans laid out already. You’re energetic, not as much as Seungkwan, but you know how to match the omega’s energy. And you’re also quieter with Vernon, like you understand that he’s laid back and deals with things differently. Only someone truly empathetic and kind can be like that, and Vernon’s heart soars. You’re so perfect, you’re perfect, and he will be damned if he won’t be the perfect alpha for you.
And so Vernon makes a resolve. He will prove himself. He will be the one for you, to take care of you the way someone with your spirit deserves. And he is absolutely not the kind to just pussyfoot around. So Vernon watches. Vernon observes.
When fall starts bleeding into winter, he notices how you love to be bundled up. The biggest coats and jackets, the most layers of anyone else in the group.
“Cold?” He asks when you show up at the campus gates where everyone agreed to meet so you can go to dinner together. You give him a sheepish smile and nod under your heavy hoodie.
“I get cold very easily.” You admit. “My hands and feet specifically.”
Vernon knows exactly how to fix it.
That night, he rummages through his closet and finds three sets of wool socks. His grandmother knits so many for him and his sister, and keeps sending them. Vernon wears one pair and keeps the rest for later use when his first ones are worn out. He swears by them, because she uses the finest wool for knitting. He contemplates between a navy blue pair and a grey one, ultimately going for the blue. He hopes you will like them.
When he finds you in the hallways the next morning, just before classes, he feels like his heart will beat out of his chest. He’s so nervous, and he worried himself sick last night about whether or not you would accept his gift. He wants to be there for you, to provide for you and understand your needs and take care of you. To be your alpha. This is it, the big moment.
He pulls you aside and away from the prying eyes of other students before slowly pulling out the small bag he put the socks in. You take it curiously, peering inside.
“You said your feet get really cold.” He quickly explains. “These are merino wool. My grandma makes them. They’re very warm, I promise.”
You look so surprised, blinking at the item in your hand. He watches your thumb run over them, feeling how soft they are.
“A-are you sure, Vernon?” You ask. “I was just complaining about the weather, I didn’t really think….”
Vernon immediately nods. He’s so sure. There’s no one else for him except you. You look a little hesitant, Vernon holds his breath, and then finally, you nod.
The air escapes his chest with a loud whoosh, and joy takes his place. He nods, more jerky this time, trying to tamp down his giddy smile.
“Thank you so much.” You look truly touched at the gesture, and that satisfies the alpha inside him. He took care of you, and you accepted his courting gift. You want to give him a chance. And as Vernon looks into your bright, warm eyes, he’s determined to never, ever let you down.
Vernon feels like he’s on cloud nine for the rest of the day, and when he lays in bed that night, staring up at the ceiling, he’s already planning other ways to convince you that he is the perfect alpha for you. He has watched you intensely (in a non-creepy way), and he knows what habits you have, and how he can enrich your life with his own presence. His top priority is giving you as much love and care as he possibly can. His phone buzzes beside his pillow, breaking him from his thoughts. His heart kicks hard when he realises who the message is from.
[you]: i love the socks vernon thank you so much!
He grins so wide he feels like his cheeks might split. Your response encourages him so much. His alpha hums, settling like a warm weight in his chest. He goes to sleep with that same, stupid grin on his face.
Vernon did believe he was good friends with you, but you warm up to him even more after that. You love to talk and catch up whenever you meet him. You love the cat videos he sends you, and when you realise he likes them, you send them to him as well. He feels particularly giddy when you caption them with something like ‘reminded me of you’. You’re so wonderful, and Vernon can’t help that deep seated catch in his stomach that tells him he is falling in love.
He doesn’t mind.
But Vernon is still courting you, and he takes being an alpha to you very seriously. He goes shopping with his sister for the weekend and picks out one of those thermoses that keep liquids warm for hours, and not the dysfunctional, knock off kind that just look pretty. Sophia thinks it’s too plain, so Vernon frets over that, but he wants this to be practical, something you really need. This is about your comfort, and he won’t compromise on that. It makes Sophia snort.
“I’m surprised you managed to court her. With socks of all things.”
That makes him blink. “She loved them. She uses them all the time.”
Sophia only laughs.
Vernon fills the thermos with your preferred preparation of coffee on Monday and gives it to you when he finds you on a picnic table on campus grounds before your first class.
“It keeps liquid warm for at least 10 hours.” He explains himself. “It’s got thicker insulation, see? I looked it up before I bought it.”
You stare at it. “Vernon, this must have cost a lot-”
He immediately cuts you off. “Don’t worry about the price. I just hope it’s good and you use it.”
You give him a wide smile, biting your bottom lip and avoiding his eyes. Are you feeling shy? Vernon’s alpha soars.
“Thank you.” You mumble. Vernon shakes his head.
“Stop saying thank you.” It’s my job. I want to take care of you.
You only let out a little laugh and nod. Vernon feels the urge to lean over the table and kiss you. It takes everything in him to not do exactly that.
The holidays come and go. Vernon talks to you often, even when you leave the city to spend the days off with your family. You wish him a happy new year, asking him about his resolutions. Vernon’s wants to say ‘to make you my omega’ but he holds back. He doesn’t want to come off too strong and push you away. So he keeps it silently in his chest, and instead asks for yours.
[you]: definitely to hit the gym. i need to get better about being healthy :(
Vernon is already planning.
When he sees you next time, it’s because you come to the dorm room to see Seungkwan. He isn’t there, but Vernon is, so you offer to wait for your friend. Vernon is eager to let you in, patting his bed down and quickly tidying up a bit. He doesn’t want you to think he’s a slob.
(He isn’t. But he also doesn’t want you to think he is.)
“I got you something.” He starts, rummaging through the bag he put your stuff in. You raise an amused eyebrow.
“Again? You really shouldn’t have…”
Vernon shakes it off. “It’s nothing much, I promise.” He walks to you with what he got.
“It’s an athletic band, for when you go to the gym.” He explains. “I wanted you to have your own. And here,” He puts everything in your lap, “electrolyte pouches. This is the good stuff that athletes use. Mingyu told me about them. The convenience store stuff isn’t very healthy.”
Your mouth is agape, and you let out an incredulous laugh. “You really go out of your way, don’t you?”
I do. Vernon wants to say. Because it’s true. He won’t spare any expense, any effort, when it comes to you. He hopes that these attempts show them to you. This is what the courting period is all about. He wants to give you proof that he is well capable of being everything you will ever want and need.
“Thank you.” You whisper. It’s so soft, so laced with warmth, and Vernon’s alpha almost preens. Almost. It’s rare for alphas to react like that, but for Vernon, this is acceptance on another level. He vowed to himself that he would be your biggest support, your only one. And he’s succeeding. He’s well on his way to being your everything, just like how you’re his everything already. He gives himself maybe a couple of more months, then he will officially ask you to be his.
He’s generally a patient guy, but he really can’t wait.
…………………………………
You have a dilemma, and you really don’t know anyone who you can talk to about it except Boo Seungkwan.
Initially, you wanted to hold off on it. You’ve known Vernon for a while now, and you know how genuine he is as a person. He is truly one of the people you trust the most, because he’s so attentive and kind. Your omega likes him too, maybe a little too much, and you always have to remind yourself that he’s just a friend, nothing more. But you can’t help being enamoured by him. He’s so different from how you are, but you gel with him so well. There’s something so charming about him, you can’t help but be sucked in.
But Vernon’s brand of weird might be getting a little…. too weird.
When he first gave you socks that his grandmother knitted, you were shocked, pleasantly so. You were half inclined to refuse, but they were genuinely so soft and Vernon looked like he really wanted you to have them, so you accepted. You did have a cold feet problem, and you complained to him about it. He happened to have a solution in his home, so he got it for you. It was very nice of him.
But then he got you that really expensive thermos. You know it was expensive because you looked it up afterwards, cursing under your breath. You love your friends and would help them any way you can, but this felt like too much. Vernon didn’t care though, adamant on you having it. And you didn’t have the heart to refuse when he kept insisting. And goddamn, it did keep your coffee warm and cozy for hours, so you could happily sip on it for a long time. You still use that thing every day.
Then there was the little stuff, like electrolyte packets and a gym headband, or the muscle patches he got you when you complained about being sore (it wasn’t even that bad, you just like to complain). It seems that no matter what you say, Vernon is always listening, like he wants any opportunity to make your life better. It warms your heart, it makes your omega keen, but Vernon is swimming very close to dangerous waters. All this is doing is making you more and more inclined to him, his thoughtfulness and care makes you want to melt right into him. Because at the end of the day, he’s an alpha, and you want him more and more with every passing day.
As you said, dangerous waters.
Things really take a turn when he shows up at your dorm with toothpaste, the same brand you use on a daily basis. You stare at it.
“Yours was running out last time I was here.” He says, and he’s so nonchalant about it, like friends just notice something like dwindling toothpaste and buy it for you. You’re so flabbergasted that you don’t even think of rejecting it, just thanking him quietly instead. He nods, smiling.
Okay, you need to talk to Seungkwan.
You text Seungkwan about meeting you for lunch at a café outside campus. It’s not too far, but enough that you know you won’t run into any of your mutual friends there. You really don’t want to talk to anyone who won’t help you, and while you’re very social on most days, you’re in no mood to deal with people right now. You ignore the urge to stay home in bed, because you really need to do something about this Vernon situation, so you push yourself to go, despite the resistance in your body.
Seungkwan just thinks it’s a normal catchup meal when he greets you, but when you start to slowly tell him about what Vernon has been doing for the last few months, his jaw just drops more and more, his plate completely forgotten.
“You’re not serious.” He mutters when you finish.
“I am.” You sigh. “And I love it, you know? I do. It makes me feel….. some type of way. But that’s why you have to tell him to stop. I can’t keep assuming that he’s doing it for some other reason. My heart can’t take it.”
You feel intense emotions rise up in you, and you have to swallow them down. It surprises you a little, how heated and charged you feel, but you push the thought out of your mind, trying to focus. Seungkwan’s face is pinched in thought, but you can see in real time as it smooths in realisation.
“Oh my god, wait.”
You watch him curiously. “What?”
But Seungkwan doesn’t say, shaking his head. Then, he goes back to his food.
“I’ll talk to him, okay?”
You’re a little confused at the weird reaction, but you nod. You’re already feeling a little tired, even though you haven’t even been out of the house that long. You wish you had just stayed in and put this off for another day.
“Just be nice about it. I don’t want him to feel bad. He’s been doing such kind things for me, I don’t want to come off as ungrateful.”
But Boo Seungkwan has a whole other storm brewing in his head as he waves goodbye to you and heads to his dorm. He thinks he has a pretty good idea about what the hell Vernon has been doing, but he needs to be one hundred percent sure about it first.
Vernon is sitting at his desk, headphones on, when Seungkwan taps him on the shoulder. The alpha turns around. Seungkwan decides not to beat around the bush.
“So I was on a lunch date with Y/N.”
Seungkwan can see the exact moment Vernon’s face lights up. He sighs internally. His suspicions are true.
“How is she?” Vernon asks.
Seungkwan plops himself down on the edge of the bed. “Wouldn’t you know that? Since she’s your omega?”
Vernon huffs out a laugh. “She’s not my omega yet.”
Yet. “But you are courting her.” He doesn’t frame it as a question.
Vernon nods. Seungkwan wants to groan.
“And it’s going well?”
“It is.”
“Right. Sure. It’s going so well that the omega you are courting doesn’t even know she’s being courted.”
Vernon pauses, blinking at Seungkwan owlishly. “What?”
“You heard me.”
Vernon’s mouth opens and closes a few times, not unlike a fish. “I don’t understand.”
Seungkwan feels a horrific laugh bubble up in his chest, but he doesn’t say anything. He watches Vernon’s face go through a million emotions, confusion being the predominant one.
“I gave her a courting gift. She accepted.”
“You gave her socks.” Seungkwan deadpans.
Vernon frowns. “She needed them. She told me herself, her feet are always cold.”
Seungkwan groans at that, putting his head in his hands. “Hansol….”
Seungkwan laughs then, but Vernon doesn’t find the situation funny at all. A mild panic is curling in his chest, his mind racing. Did you really not know? Were you really clueless? He hadn’t said it explicitly, sure, but he was certain you got his meaning. He was taking care of you, showing you he could be a good alpha. Was he not clear enough?
Seungkwan’s voice breaks through his thoughts. “A courting gift, especially the first one, has to be something romantic. Like a bracelet or a necklace. Jewellery.”
Vernon puts his head in his hands, his elbows on the table. “I- I just thought it would be better if I gave practical gifts….”
Seungkwan huffs out a laugh. “Practical gifts are great, but fucking toothpaste, man?”
Vernon wants to bash his head into a wall. He looks at Seungkwan with pleading eyes.
“What did she say? Does she not like me?”
Seungkwan shakes his head immediately. “The opposite actually. She thinks you only see her as a friend, and she feels bad about liking you more than that because of how considerate you are.”
Vernon can’t believe his ears. He can’t. You think he’s not interested? He couldn’t have made his interest any clearer. But obviously, he went about it the wrong way, and now you feel shitty because of him. Vernon’s alpha growls, disapproving. He doesn’t like this feeling, knowing that he is responsible for any negative emotion you experience.
He needs to fix this.
Seungkwan doesn’t stop him as he tugs his shoes on, grabbing his phone before he leaves. He’s contemplating on sending you a text that he’s on his way to you, but he remembers the exchange you had with Seungkwan, and he fears that his text might make you spiral. So he just sets off, hoping he can catch you when you’re not too busy so you can talk it out. He always believed he didn’t want to rush you, but if it’s causing miscommunication, then he needs to make his intentions crystal clear.
He reaches your door in record time. You don’t have a dorm mate thankfully, since your last one dropped out and a new one wasn’t appointed to you. This is good, because it means you two can talk openly. He knocks and waits, shifting on his feet. He feels anxious and uncertain, and he prays he hasn’t ruined anything between you two, especially after he tried so hard to make everything go right.
You’re not answering. Vernon tries again, wondering if maybe you have headphones on and can’t hear him. Maybe he should text you that he’s right outside. He’s just contemplating on it when the door swings open.
You have a scowl on your face, lips pulled into a pout as you stick your head out. Cute. Vernon gives you a sheepish smile when recognition dawns on your features.
“Vernon.” Your voice is raspy. He shuffles.
“Sorry. Were you sleeping?”
You blink a few times, rapid movements as if trying to clear your vision. Vernon shifts again, feeling restless. He’s been feeling restless ever since he first knocked on your door. He scents the air instinctively. You smell…. just as you always do. Maybe sweeter? He can’t place it. Something is off, not in a bad way. But he can’t put his finger on it.
“This isn’t a good time.” You say, and your voice is still strained and tired. Vernon’s early anxiety is gone. He feels concern sting at his chest.
“Are you okay?” He has to ask, because a voice inside him is telling him that you’re not. You pause before answering, and it’s a little too long for his taste.
“I’m fine. Just tired. Can we talk in a few days?”
A few days? Vernon’s eyebrows furrow. His nose won’t stop twitching because of the alteration in your scent. He watches you, really watches you, the barely noticeable line of sweat on your hairline, your breathing just slightly more rapid than usual, how you’re gripping the doorframe like it’s holding half your weight. Vernon’s alpha bristles.
“Pre-heat?” He croaks.
You swallow tightly, he can see it with the way your throat bobs. When you don’t deny it, his alpha howls. His fingers twitch. It takes everything in him to not reach for you.
“So, later?” You ask again. He blinks.
“I was courting you.” He blurts. “The gifts. I- I thought I was being clear about it. But I wasn’t. That’s my fault, not yours. I should’ve said it, I should’ve gotten you something prettier or nicer. But I didn’t.”
Your jaw drops at his words. Silence hangs in the air for a few seconds.
“You like me?” Your voice is so tiny, so unsure. Vernon wishes he could rip the heart out of his chest and give it to you to prove that he doesn’t just like you, but that he’s in love with you. But he settles for better words.
“I wanted to show that I could take care of you. That I could be a good alpha and love you the way you deserve.”
Your eyes are bright. Your mouth is slightly open in an ‘O’ shape. You don’t say anything for a long while. Vernon feels despair sink in his head.
“I’m sorry.”
You seem to break from your trance. Your eyebrows draw together. “What are you sorry for?”
Before he can reply, your voice dies and you wince. Vernon feels his chest squeeze, hands reaching out before he can stop himself when he sees your poster hunch forward a little. He hovers uncertainly over you. Being in your space makes your scent get denser, heavier. Vernon grits his teeth hard. His brain feels like it’s short circuiting.
“You should get back inside.” He chokes out. “You shouldn’t be standing up right now. Your cramps will get worse.”
You don’t reply, almost like your mind is fogged. Vernon makes up his mind, very carefully placing his hands on your elbows so he can shuffle both of you backwards into the room.
It smells even more intensely like you inside. Vernon’s eyelids flutter, and he has to stop himself from breathing in deep. He gently guides you to the bed and you follow without much hesitation. You sigh into the pillows once your body relaxes, and Vernon pulls the blanket over you. He notices just then that you’re wearing the navy blue socks he gave you. His heart skips a beat as he leans beside the edge of the bed.
“Do you need anything?” He tries to make a mental list. He’s never really helped an omega with their heat before. When Seungkwan goes into heat, university policy is to leave the dorm and room with someone else for the duration, so he just stays with another friend. But Vernon isn’t a complete idiot, so he thinks. Painkillers, a warm water bottle, sustenance of some kind, something high calorie-
“Just stay here with me.” You pipe up. He freezes.
“I can’t.” He tries to say as placatingly as possible. “Your heat will hit soon.”
You blink up at him, and he notes the thin, shiny layer covering your eyes. “So?”
He stares. “So….. I can’t stay.” Or I will lose my mind.
“Yes, you can. You said you wanted to show me you can take care of me, right?” Your eyelids hang low, eyes only half open as you peer up at him. “So take care of me, alpha.”
Vernon thinks his head is spinning. No, it’s the room. The room is spinning. He is completely still in place, like a statue, because he feels that if he moves, he will sway and topple over. His alpha is howling, a chorus of ‘yes, yes, yes’ that chokes any other thought in his brain. Instead, he clenches his jaw hard and reaches his hand up to rest it carefully on your head. He brushes your hair back slowly. You sigh at his mere touch. You’re heated, already almost burning up.
“Are you sure?” He whispers. “You’re close to heat. You can’t be saying this just because your omega wants an alpha here with you.”
You let out a small laugh. “I’m in pre-heat only. I know what I’m doing. I’ve….. liked you for a while now.”
Vernon can feel how hot the back of his neck is. “Really?”
You nod. He lets out a shaky breath. He can’t believe his ears, almost like someone went in there and scraped all his brains out, leaving his head hollow and light. But his chest is so full that he feels like it will explode.
“Okay.” He says with an air of finality. “I’ll take care of you, I promise. You won’t want for anything. I’m here.”
…………………………….
You don’t really remember much of your pre-heats, generally. Most of the time, you spend it dozing in and out of sleep, eating whatever you’ve stashed in your room beforehand. This one is the same. You’re very sleepy, so you hunker down on your bed and nap as much as you can. The difference this time is that you’re coaxed awake every few hours by an alpha hanging over your bed, helping you sit up and feeding you small bites of warm food instead of your usual packaged stuff.
Vernon leaves whenever you fall asleep, coming back with stuff he picks up from restaurants, all rich and dense food that puts you in a good mood and makes you sleep longer. Two nights after he first showed up, you feel uncomfortable again, so you ask for his hoodie. He doesn’t hesitate for two seconds before he pulls it off and tugs it onto you.
“Better?” He asks as you sink into bed again. You hum in relief. It feels amazing to be surrounded by his scent like this. Your omega settles and your discomfort wanes.
“Much.” You reply. He nods. You watch him putter around, cleaning up plates and looking at how much water you still have. You know that you’re only settling with his hoodie temporarily. As your heat hits, his clothes won’t be enough. You will want him. All of him.
Your face flames at the thought. You really never could’ve imagined that Vernon would want to help you like this. You always assumed he was being a good friend, hence why you wanted Seungkwan to stop him. Because you were getting too attached to him, and you didn’t want to set yourself up for future hurt. Turns out, he was courting you, in some characteristically Vernon way of his. And in a way….. it worked. It made you love him more.
Days pass in your pre-heat haze. When you wake up one day, your back drenched in sweat and your heart racing so fast it makes you pant heavily, you realise you’ve hit your heat. You sit up slowly, struggling to unfold your tense body. Vernon isn’t here, probably out to get more supplies or a change of clothes for himself. Your omega whines. You’re wet between the thighs already. You rub them desperately together. Why is your alpha not back yet?
You’re just psyching yourself up to leave the bed when the door to your dorm swings open and Vernon steps inside, arms weighed by bags. He blinks, surprised to see you awake.
“Hey. How are you feeling?” He asks, pushing the door shut with his heel and placing the bags on your study table. You let out a shaky breath.
“Alpha.”
Something in your voice seemingly registers, because his head jerks up. You can feel his nose twitch when you shift, throwing the blanket off your sweaty body. Your scent hits him. You try to shuffle closer to him.
“Need you, please.”
Vernon wastes no time in toeing off his shoes and walking closer to the bed, settling on it and letting you come to him. You crawl into his lap, sighing in relief when your skin meets his. He still hasn’t taken his jacket off, so you tug impatiently at it. He obliges by discarding it, leaving him in a simple shirt and jeans.
You tuck your head against his neck like it’s second nature, like you’ve done it a million times before. You nose at his scent glands, eager to have it invade your senses straight from the source. You feel his hand run comforting circles over your sweaty back.
“You’re drenched.” He murmurs, tugging at your shirt a little where it’s sticking to your skin. You huff.
“‘M hot.”
“Do you want a change of clothes?”
No. I want you to take them off entirely.
You don’t say it, just biting your lip and nosing at his neck more. You know Vernon is here to help with your heat, but you suddenly feel so shy asking him to. God, this was your idea, and you can’t even bring yourself to verbalise it.
When your silence stretches too long, you feel a soft hand on your jaw, nudging your head up. Your eyes meet wide, brown ones.
“I’m here for whatever you need. Just ask, okay? I can’t know unless you tell me.”
He’s right. He’s being so logical and so sweet about it while you’re wallowing. So you nod, mustering up the confidence to peer up at him and say, “I want you.”
Vernon nods. “Okay, baby. I’ve got you.”
When he leans down to softly brush his lips to yours, your omega whines. You inhale shakily and press closer, kissing him properly. He takes it so slow, like he’s savoring every second of it, running his hands carefully, reverently, down your sides before sliding under the hem of your shirt. His skin is so cool against your heated body, and it’s a welcome relief. You sigh into his mouth.
Vernon grips just a little tighter, your flesh dimpling under his touch. It makes your body shift forward, your core grazing over his jean-clad thigh. Your breath hitches as pleasure zips up from your core.
That sets a charged, lazy rhythm. Vernon guides the movement of your body with a firm grip on your hips, back and forth, back and forth, your cunt sliding over his thigh. The rough material of his jeans provides delicious friction, while your flimsy shorts might as well not be there. You’re soaked through, and if you looked down, you’re sure you would see a dark patch on his jeans. He seems to not care about the fact that you’re ruining his clothes. He moans into your mouth, tenses his thigh periodically in a way that sends a pleasurable jolt up your spine. Your legs are spread wide apart, your slit open, pressing your most sensitive parts to him. He kisses you senseless as the pressure in your core gets tighter and tighter, your movements more rushed, more sloppy. He bites your bottom lip the exact moment your orgasm hits, washing over your body like a tidal wave, leaving you moaning and shaking, Vernon’s sure grip the only thing holding you steady.
“Good. Good girl.” He whispers into your raw, bitten lips. “Perfect. There you go.”
Your trembling body goes limp against his figure. He holds you there for a bit, letting you come down. You process what just happened. This was not what you expected, though you’re not complaining at all. It was so hot.
You’re shifted backwards slowly. Vernon lays you on the bed and presses a sweet kiss on your cheek, pulling back.
“You really should change clothes now, sweetheart.” He says. You giggle breathlessly and nod.
Vernon finds a fresh pair of shorts and a loose shirt. He helps you change. You really don’t feel hesitant about being naked in front of him. Hell, you just rode his thigh and came all over him. Speaking of, his jeans are ruined, you can see it a mile off. Vernon excuses himself to the bathroom once you’re settled, and when he emerges later, he’s dressed in sweats.
You eat the food he brought, more like he feeds you and you let him. It feels nice, being pampered and taken care of like this. You say as much to him. He lets out an airy laugh and shakes his head.
“That’s what my intention was the entire time.” He confesses. “I wanted to be a good alpha to you. And in my opinion, a good alpha is someone who knows how to take care of his omega. I was trying to prove that.”
You smile, watching him set the empty plate aside and pour you a glass of water.
“I already know you’re a good person, Vernon. You didn’t have to do all that.”
He shakes his head. “There’s a difference between being a good person and a good alpha. You needed to know I would be there through thick and thin, and I could anticipate your needs and make your life easier. To be loved is to be known, isn’t that what they say?”
You stare at him, speechless. Your heart squeezes in your chest, and you try to look for words, anything you can say to tell him how much this means to you, how much he means to you. But you’re tired, and your heat is messing with your head, and you can’t think of anything that will properly get your meaning across. So you put down the glass in your hand and lean forward, laying a kiss on his lips.
You feel him stiffen only briefly, kissing you back when he realises what is happening. You feel his hand cup your cheek tenderly, slotting his lips deeper into yours. You sigh into this kiss, kicking forward to once again settle in his lap like you did previously. It’s almost like instinct. It’s comforting for you, and with the way his free arm curls around you, you know he likes it too.
You don’t know if it’s your heat, or just the fact that it’s Vernon, but the air charges quickly, and the kiss deepens. Your bodies undulate together, small moans and sighs until you can feel a familiar ache in your loins, your nails digging into his shoulders.
“Alpha.” You whine into him.
“I’ve got you.” He reassures you, like he always has. The world tilts, and you’re laid back on the mattress, his torso pressing you down deliciously. His mouth doesn’t leave you for a second, nipping and kissing, before his tongue licks into your mouth. Your pussy clenches around nothing.
Fingers dip into the waistband of your pajamas, tugging them off in one smooth motion. Fingers prod at your entrance, and you pull your knees up and apart. You’re already so wet, so ready, that he slides two fingers in immediately with next to no resistance.
“Fuck.” Vernon groans at the exact time you gasp. His fingers curl, pressing and rubbing, looking for that one spot. You moan and jerk.
“You’re so wet. You’re gonna ruin the sheets.”
He pulls back enough to look down at you. You watch in awe as the corner of his lip quirks up with a smirk you have never seen before. He looks so sexy like this, it makes your head spin.
“Soak my hand. Wanna feel it.”
You shriek when he presses into your soft spot, back arching off the bed. He coos, watching you with half lidded eyes, biting his bottom lip. You burn under his gaze, but it feels so good. Your orgasm is building up frighteningly quick, and before you know it, your legs are seizing.
You babble incoherently, trying to warn him, one hand fisting his shirt while the other tugs at the sheets. The knot in your core is so tight, ready to burst any moment, and he says the final words to get you there.
“Go ahead, baby. Be a good girl. Do what I said. Soak my hand.”
And you do, stars bursting in your vision at the same time that the knot implodes. You can hear how wet the sounds get, sloppy and filthy enough to make you flush. But you’re too preoccupied by how good it feels, washing over your entire body in waves. You know, even before you are fully down, that you are now addicted to this feeling, to him. His scent, heavy and reassuring and endlessly horny, you can tell. And his presence, sure and all encompassing. Your hands, still trembling, reach down, pawing and scratching at his pants.
“Alpha.” You’re surprised you can speak. “Off. Need- need you. Your knot. Please.”
Vernon doesn’t hesitate. With a few precise motions, his pants are pulled off and his shirt follows. You run your hands hungrily over his lean figure. He’s cut. You can trace the muscles, and it makes your mouth water. He’s so hard already, long and veiny and throbbing, and your pussy clenches pathetically. Your hips jerk.
Vernon wraps a hand around his shaft, pumping a few times. You see the precum leak from his tip and dribble down. Your legs twitch when he rubs his mushroom head up and down over your slit, gathering your slick. He groans.
“Look at that. You’re so ready for me, aren’t you?” You watch him bite his lip. You buck up again. Finally, he guides the head down, teasing your rim for a few seconds before sliding the head inside.
Your jaw goes slack as he slides in, inch by glorious inch, until you feel the base of his pelvis meet your skin. You can feel him throb even inside you, your walls squeezing and releasing over and over to try and get used to the massive intrusion. Above you, Vernon’s face is pinched, and he curses loudly.
“Don’t- please don’t do that.” His voice is strained. “I’m gonna cum too soon.”
You can’t help your breathless giggle, but you try to relax a little around him. You both breathe deeply, and finally, you feel the alpha move.
The pace is stable and reverent from the beginning, like he wants to feel every nook and cranny of your cunt around him. He fucks you like he’s making up for lost time, speeding up and then slowing down, watching his cock disappear inside your needy, sopping pussy and pulling out, the shaft shiny with your juices. Your eyes roll up at the feeling, how he carves through your opening, in and out, brushing over all the good spots as he moves. He changes the angle every couple of minutes, and you gasp loudly when he hits you just right.
He reads your body like an open book, immediately honing in on the spot and picking up speed. Skin slaps against skin, a plopping sound that fills the room and only turns you on even more, if that’s even possible. Vernon’s eyes run over every part of you hungrily, like he wants to commit all of it to memory, and you feel like you’re on fire under the heat in his gaze.
“I’m gonna cum again.” You whimper, feeling tears sting at your eyes as your pleasure crests to heights you have never felt before. Your whole body feels like it’s molten lava, bubbling up inside you until it overtakes your every nerve. Your hands scramble for purchase, and Vernon sees. He winds his fingers through yours and pushes up, pressing your intertwined hands above your head. Your back arches, body laid open for his eyes only. And under his watchful gaze, his soft words, you cum hard, wailing as you drench his cock with your juices, squeezing around him so hard that you almost black out. Something swollen catches on your opening. He thrusts rough a few more times before he surges forward, bullying his knot deep inside you. Your eyes roll. Your omega keens.
Vernon releases your hands, running his own carefully down your body, like he wants to milk the rigidity from your limbs. You breathe heavily, trying to blink the tears away. He nuzzles into your neck, nosing at it and inhaling deep. When you feel his tongue lick over your scent glands, you shiver.
“Sorry.” He whispers when feels it. “Too much?”
You shake your head and turn it the other way, baring your neck to him. You feel his shaky exhale. He runs his tongue over your neck again, scenting you properly. You bask in the feeling.
You’re so completely at peace here, with his knot inside you and his tongue on your skin. This is exactly what you needed. And it’s clear to you now that Vernon knows actually what you need, always.
i absolutely adore your writing!!! gone through every one of your fics and i adore them. do you maybe have a fic rec list?? would love to know your recommendations :)
thank you pookieeeeee 🫂🫶
i’ll just recommend my fav nct writers below:
@withlovemark (that’s my wife btw)
@hyuckmov fav: rockstar haechan
@domjaehyun
@neochan
@sluttyten fav: you in my arms series
@hyuckiefluff
@kongjjen
@j0shuahongs fav: director’s cut
@lyvhie
@smileysuh
@jaeminvore favs: young god and room(hate)
@slightlymore fav: death of peace of mind (the mind chronicles series)🤌
@jaylaxies fav: call me when you hate me less
couldn’t tag the creator: learning languages (a masterpiece)
Jake Sim, son of one of the most wealthiest CEOs in Australia. Who also happens to be the man your parents set you to marry at 20 years old, and now—five years later, the father of your child. You and Jake have a..rocky relationship to say the least. The real question is, who’s going to be the first to break?
sim jaeyun x fem! reader
content warnings: smut, fluff, slight angst if you squint, arranged marriage, reader and jake have a kid, forced proximity, unprotected sex, pussy eating, breeding, fingering, masturbation (m & f), nipple stimulation, tit obsessed jake (he’s also pussy drunk asf), wet dreams, squirting, teasing, stubborn/avoidant reader, suggestive jokes, jake calls reader “mama”, mentions of alcohol and controlling parents, featuring Sunghoon and Jay. Just know Jake wants it real bad and he’s kind of pathetic.
word count: 21k (I got carried away)
this builds off of my jay fic here: Sweet Desire, but it can be read alone
The day you were informed of the arrangement, your whole world crashed on you. To be fair, you knew it was coming, your parents made sure of it. The constant reminders to not waste time on the boys around you because you were bound to marry one of their choice.
Jake Sim, Son of one of the most wealthiest CEO’s in Australia. Before you married him, you met him briefly when your parents dragged you to Australia to confirm everything. You had no choice of course.
One thing you didn’t miss was how handsome he was. Not to mention that ridiculous accent, if it hadn't been an arrangement you would have definitely gone after him.
He didn’t love you though. Not in the way husbands love their wives. Because this was all for one thing, to join your families. And that's all he saw it as, just another task his parents assigned for him.
After you got married, he didn’t touch you for almost eight months. The only reason he did was because both of your parents, demanding, constantly asking why you haven’t announced your pregnancy to them.
The night he did touch you that way, he could barely even look at you. If he was being honest, he enjoyed it but he wouldn’t dare to admit that out loud.
It felt good. You remember the feeling of him, the sounds, the words he let slip out in the moment, but after that it was meaningless.
You lived together during the pregnancy, he helped you, he was caring. Caring in a way he hadn’t been before you had his child in you. Over the course of those nine months you grew a special connection together.
Becoming a mother was something you expected, but you had always thought of it to be different, not something arranged, a duty needing to be fulfilled.
Like the movies you would watch, the books you secretly read, maybe even the dreams you had, but then again—do they really always come true?
Then the arguments started, the fighting. He never laid a hand on you, never hurt you, but most of all he never touched you sexually again. Was it because he thought it wouldn't be good? Because you were no longer ‘fit’?
Which was many people's explanation why their husbands wouldn't touch them. But you constantly reminded yourself, he’s hardly your husband, this is simply an arrangement.
Which is exactly why you’re in your car now, with your four year old daughter, driving to Jake Sim’s house to drop her off for the week.
On paper you two are married, but in reality you moved out when your daughter turned one. You couldn’t handle it anymore, and you figured it would be best if she didn’t grow up in a house full of arguments from the people who were supposed to be her role models.
Jake didn’t seem to mind, his time mostly consisted of working, trying to expand his knowledge on his father’s company which he was going to inherit.
One thing you did agree on, was that you were able to see other people, date whoever, fuck whoever. Obviously you both had needs, needs that you weren’t willing to fulfill with each other. The only thing was you couldn’t introduce said person to Layla.
“Daddy said he’d buy me the whole barbie section from the store!” Your daughter says, playing with the dolls he apparently just bought her a few weeks ago.
“You already have all of them right sweetheart?” You ask, turning into the gated neighborhood, the houses are pretty spaced apart since they're huge. You don’t understand why he didn’t just move to a smaller place afterwards, 6 bedrooms is extremely unnecessary for one man.
“Not the camping ones” she looks out the window as you pull into his driveway with a smile on her face. You glance down at your outfit, So what if you are wearing something nice, and a little more makeup then normal..nothing wrong with dressing up a little.
You move to the trunk to get the backpack with everything she needs from your place before getting her from the backseat “You ready Lay?” You ask helping her out, and holding her hand as you walk to his front door, before you're even on the front porch the door opens, you pause, she lets go of your hand to run to him, jumping in his arms.
He’s wearing some jeans with a casual sweater, his hair styled, but messy at the same time. “Aw, sweet girl, you missed me?” He says hugging her back, holding her in his arms.
He offers a tight lipped smile to you before inviting you in, “I wanna play with the barbie house!” She says, squirming to get out of his arms, he puts her down, watching as she runs off to the living room to play.
You set the backpack down on the kitchen island before looking around, nothing seems different from the last time you were here.
“The drive was okay?” He asks, walking past you into the kitchen, hips brushing yours. You don’t know if it was intentionally, but you do know every nerve in your body felt it. “Yeah, traffic wasn't terrible.” You nod, slightly cringing at the attempt in small talk.
“Im going to use the bathroom” You say abruptly, “Second door on the right.” He offers, “I know.” He lets his eyes drop to your outfit for a split second before you disappear down the hall.
You walk to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you before bracing your hands on the counter, looking up at your reflection.
God, you're actually pathetic.
You wait a few minutes before you flush the toilet, you didn't even have to use the bathroom.
Jake moved to the living room, sitting on the couch watching Layla play with her toys with a smile on his face. You don't look at him before crouching down beside her
“Mommy’s going to leave now okay?” You smile softly, “But I want you and Daddy to both play!” she frowns, looking at Jake than at you, you can't help but share the same frown before leaning in to give her a hug, she wraps her arms around your neck.
Jake watches the interaction, he cant help the slight ting of guilt that hits his chest, he watches you pull back to kiss her forehead before standing up.
“I'll walk you out” he stands with you, following you to the door, you step out before turning to face him “I won't be able to call her goodnight tomorrow.” You say, watching him lean against the door frame, eye brow raised.
“Why?” he asks the question like it’s his business to know. “I'm just- I’ll be busy.”
“Ah, a date?”
“What- Thats none of your business” You say defensively
“So a date then.” He sighs, watching the way your face morphs to irritation.
You dodge his question “No ice cream for dinner.” You mutter before turning to walk to your car, he closes the door once you drive off, before putting his attention back on his adorable daughter.
-
“She’s dating now? Damn, about time.” Sunghoon mutters, putting down the weights he was just lifting.
“About time? No, fuck no.” Jake replies back, grabbing heavier weights just to feel something. “Why’re you pressed about it? You’ve fucked plenty of girls since.” Sunghoon says casually.
“Well it’s–different..”
“Nope, not that different.”
“You’re not helping.”
“Did you guys not agree to do just that? It’s not like she’s getting married to another guy. She probably just needs to get laid.” Sunghoon offers bluntly, earning a glare from Jake.
Yeah, that was the agreement, but it doesn't help the thoughts going through his mind. Sure he’s had plenty of useless fucks, using his hand gets boring. But he hasn't dated officially, so you going on a date, just makes shit worse.
“When was the last time you actually got pussy then?” Sunghoon asks, finishing his set of bicep curls.
“Shit, like a few weeks back–”
“That’s why you’re so fucking frustrated.” He says like it's the most obvious thing in the world.
“How’s things going with that Sara girl?” He questions, downing his water
“Who?” Jake asks, genuinely confused
“Sara, the girl you met at the bar?”
“Oh–I don't know, She’s just kind of..boring.”
“Wish she was y/n huh?” Sunghoon smirks
“Bro fuck you, when was the last time you–”
“Last night.” Sunghoon replies immediately, Jake opens his mouth to speak, closes it.
“Okay, what were you saying about the weights?” Jake asks, changing the topic, earning a laugh from Sunghoon.
As soon as Jake gets home, he wakes up Layla, who attempts to sprint down the stairs just to see the guest he brought back.
“Hoon!” Layla practically screams, running up to his best friend to give him a hug, “Hey Lay, Just had to stop by to pick up something” Sunghoon smiles down at her, the cocky bastard exterior gone, making Jake roll his eyes. “The papers are in my study. I'll be right back.” Jake says, walking upstairs.
Sunghoon is his best friend, someone who he can really trust. He’s one of the few people in his life who know about the arrangement between you and him.
He also happens to work at his fathers company, one that Jake will soon inherit. The only steady thing in his life consists of work at this point.
He can't help the laugh that slips past his lips when he sees Sunghoon sitting on the ground, holding a fairy barbie and talking in a pitch way too high for a 25 year old man.
“No! You were supposed to give up your wings so mermaid Barbie can swim!” Layla says in a sharp tone talking to Sunghoon “Sorry, sorry, take the wings please–” He apologises as if he’s scared of upsetting her-
“Having fun?” Jake smirks walking over to him “So much fun” Sunghoon replies standing up and taking the papers from him.
“Bye Layla, ill see you soon” Sunghoon says, rubbing Layla's head before turning to the door “Gym same time tomorrow?” He adds
Jake nods, walking to the kitchen as the front door shuts.
“Hm I guess ill just eat all this ice cream by myself” Jake says loud enough, less then 10 seconds pass until Layla's running over to the kitchen with a smile on her face.
-
The date was genuinely horrible. Some guy your friend tried setting you up with, all he did was talk about himself the whole time. You slip off your heels before stepping inside your house, who knew listenting to someone brag about themselve could be so fucking exhausting.
You’re so sexually frustrated it's insane. Since when did finding a quick hookup become so hard? You crawl into your bed not bothering to change out of your dress.
You lay there for a moment, contemplating, before deciding to reach into your side drawer, pulling out one of the things that has kept you sane this entire time.
You hike up your dress to your hips before brushing your fingers in between your legs, feeling the dampness coat your fingers through the thin fabric of your panties. You push them to the side before clicking the button on your vibrator.
The low buzz filling the silence of the room before you bring it down to your core, your hips instantly jolt at the feeling, you rub small circles on your clit with it, pinching your nipples through your dress before closing your eyes, trying to imagine someone else pleasuring you, bringing you closer instead of yourself..someone like–Jake..
Oh hell no.
You open your eyes, turning off the vibrator before sitting up. “No, no, absolutely not.” Anything but him, anyone but him. It’s like the universe wants you to think about him as his name flashes across your screen.
“Fuck.” You whisper, grabbing the phone, you fix your hair in the reflection looking back at you before clicking accept.
“Hey y/n, Layla wanted me to call you, she said she wouldn't sleep unless you said goodnight–are you good?” He pauses, looking at your flushed face on his phone
“What? Good, yes I'm good- why are you asking that. Just show me Lay.” You feel your heart racing in your chest, why does it feel like you've been caught doing something you shouldn't.
“Okay.” He simply says before giving Layla the phone
“Daddy said you wouldn't be able to call tonight but I still wanted to see you” Layla pouts, you can't help the warm feeling in your chest at how cute she is “I'm here now sweetheart, I hope you sleep well and have good dreams okay?” You say sweetly, blowing her a small kiss before Jake takes the phone back.
“Goodnight Layla” He says, you don't see his face but you watch the lights turn off and listen to the sound of the door shutting. “Alright bye-”
“How was the date?” He asks, walking to what seems to be his room and sitting on his bed, the camera is now on him, you watch him push his black framed glasses up his nose with his finger, fuck, why are his hands so damn hot.
“What–”
“That bad huh?” He chuckles, the sound low, in amusement. “It's none of your business.” You scoff, rolling your eyes.
“I think it is my business what my wife does.” That has you fucking shook. “Your wife? Are you serious right now?”
“Very. If the date went well, you wouldn't have answered the phone. Yet here you are.” He can't hide the smirk that coats his face. “You have no room to talk–” You snap back, “You just answered my question for me anyway” He dodges your statement, with a proud look on his face, God–he’s such an ass.
“I’m not talking to you unless it's about Layla. Goodnight.” You say, tone stern before hanging up.
What the hell is wrong with him? You knew he was a cocky asshole the second you met him all those years ago.
But you can't deny, he’s a damn good father.
-
You got the call in the middle of the day while making yourself coffee in your offices lounge.
“Is she hurt?” You ask frantically, packing your bag and letting your boss know you have an emergency.
You don't have to work honestly, you're wealthy enough to spend your days slouching around the house, but you like being on your feet, because sitting down for too long is when the overthinking happens.
“No Mrs. Sim, She’s not hurt, but she did lay hands on another student. Which is completely unacceptable here.” The Director of Layla's pre-school says.
“Did you call her father as well?”, “Yes ma’am, Mr. Sim is on his way right now.” She says cliply. You let out a sigh “I’ll be there right away.” You say before hanging up and getting in your car immediately.
Once you get to the school, you see Jake pacing outside of the Director's office, he’s in a suit, he must have just come from work too. You smooth down your blouse and business pants before walking over to him, the sound of your heels being the only thing in the empty hallway, he stops to look at you, not having time to fully take you in
“Where is she?” You ask, hand gripping your phone hard. “They took her to a different classroom, some bullshit about needing to calm herself down.” He says, pushing his hair back.
“Layla would never do something like this, not just because anyway. There has to be a reason.” You bite your lip in frustration before knocking on the door of the office. “Come in.” you hear the stern voice of the Director say, before looking at Jake who nods.
You both walk in, taking the seats in front of her desk, “Good evening Mr, and Mrs. Sim, I'm sure you know why I've called you here.” She says, eyes darting between the two of you.
You can't help the way your hand grips your phone tighter at the use of the last name, the one that feels like it doesn't even belong to you. “We also do not tolerate any form of violence here. Since this is the first and hopefully only time, we've given her a warning, due to the..circumstances of the action.” You raise a brow at that
“What ‘circumstances’?” Jake asks, tone serious. “Well, another student had actually taken her..barbie doll, and–” She clears her throat “Ripped the head off..” She finishes, looking at the both of you and the confused looks on your faces
“So she kicked him.” You see Jake slightly relax in his chair, “So she was just defending herself then.” He offers, “Well, in a sense, but it's still not acceptable, like I said we forbid any violence. So there is another reason I called you both here today.” You raise your brow as she continues talking
“Is there something going on at home?” She asks, looking at you then at him. You scoff at that “No, everything's perfectly fine.” You simply say, you watch the way Jake shifts in his chair, earning a glare from you and a curious look from the director
“And you Mr. Sim?” She says, “Right, Yes everything's fine, nothing more than the perfect family.” He smiles, that performative one you always see in the business photos. “Good to hear. Layla should be waiting outside, Thank you for coming all this way.” You nod, before standing up, Jake follows after you.
As soon as you see her, you crouch down to her level in the chair “Lay, baby–” You look down at the doll in her hand, ruined.
“Layla-” Jake whispers, sitting down next to her, she looks up at you, tears in her eyes, her face slightly red from crying earlier. You swipe them away with your thumb gently “H-he took it from me..a-and he broke it mommy” She says, voice trembling, you look up at Jake, you see that familiar look of anger flash on his features.
“I k-kicked him..I know I shouldn't have Im s-sorry” She says before breaking into a sob, and hugging you.
You hug her back immediately, hand smoothing down the back of her head before looking at Jake, He doesn't say anything before standing up and storming back into the directors office, shutting the door behind him. You don't stop him either, because you know exactly what he’s going to do.
You pull back to look at her, your heart hurts to see her like this. “Listen, I'm not saying violence is okay, but I'm glad you defended yourself okay?”
You tuck her hair behind her ear “I don’t want you to solve problems with violence, do you understand?” you ask gently, she nods looking down at her barbie ashamed, you press a kiss to her forehead before standing up.
Jake walks out of the office not even 5 minutes later, "I've got the kids parents contact, he wont mess with her again.” Is all he says before picking up Layla in his arms and walking outside to his car, you follow after him, watching as he buckles her up in the car. He swipes a thumb over her cheek gently before shutting the door and turning to face you.
“Perfect family huh?” You cross your arms over your chest, watching his face “She bought it.” He simply says. “Yeah, you’re pretty good at lying.”
“Fuck is that supposed to mean?”
“It means what I said.” You reply back snappy
“Yeah okay y/n, im not doing this shit” He rubs his nose bridge before looking at you again “Typical of you, being an avoidant asshole.” You don't know where this is coming from, but you can't stop the words from coming out, the pent of frustration boiling in you.
He sighs, looking down at his shoes before back at you, something you can't quite pin flashing in his eyes. “I’ll see you on Friday.” His tone is sharp before turning around and getting in his car.
You don't say anything before walking to yours, the sole of your heels digging into your feet irritating you, but nothing can possibly be more irritating than Jake Sim.
-
Friday comes sooner than expected, Jake messaged you a brief “On the way.” 20 minutes ago.
You opted for some lounge pants and a sweater today. “Mommy!” Layla's bright voice says the second you open the door “Hi angel” You smile when she hugs your leg, before looking at Jake.
He’s wearing a navy suit today, glasses. You try not to think about how good he looks in those glasses.
You look down at the pink backpack on his shoulder “Oh- um, you can come in–” You say, walking back.
The place is perfectly curated to how you want. So much more different than his house, You don't see the deep inhale he takes.
It smells so much like you. “You can just put the bag wherever” You say briefly. “Y/n-”
“Mommy guess what!” Layla drags your attention to her, you tilt your head “Daddy said we're going to Italy with grandma and grandpa!” she says, tugging your pant leg, you don't smile. You look up at a very nervous looking Jake,
“Oh really sweetheart?” You ask, still looking at him. “Yup! Grandma called” She giggles, you lower yourself to the ground to talk to her face to face “Can you go to your room angel? Me and daddy need to have an adult conversation okay?” She nods, completely clueless that she just practically dropped a bomb on you.
When you see she’s down the hall you whip your head to Jake “What the fuck?” You look at him eyes wide
“I know, okay I know.” He buries his face in his hands, “When is this happening.”
“Two weeks.”
“Two weeks Jake, are you serious? When the hell were you planning on telling me?”
“Come on y/n. You know how they get. They want us all to be one big happy family or something–” He sighs “Who else is going "
"I don't know, it was brief.” You look at him like he has two heads “No. No I cannot do this, I absolutely cannot fucking do this.” You walk to the kitchen, pacing around, he follows
“Like what the fuck was going through your head when you said I would go?” You try not to raise your voice so Layla doesn't hear.
“If I had a choice I would have said no. You know how they are, they expect you to be there.” He says, watching you.
“How long is it?” You ask, trying to remain sane.
“A week.”
“No fucking way, no actual fucking way.” You don't even know what to say. “I cannot be stuck in Italy with you for a week, no way in hell.”
“Geez, didn't know I was that bad.” He says, leaning against the counter, like he belongs in your house.
It’s true, Jake isn't horrible, he picks up, he doesn't snore, too loud anyway. But that's not why you're stressed about this. It’s because you don't know what could happen.
“There's more..” He says, watching your reactions
“No.” because you know exactly what he’s going to say, you can feel it.
“They dont want us to stay at the estate with them in Milan. Something about us needing ‘couple time’.” You're going to throw up. You're actually going to throw up in front of him.
“I don't need them to butt into our–relationship, it's perfectly fine how it is right now.” He doesn't say anything to that.
“I know y/n. I tried to talk them out of it, but they are dead set on it.” You sit down, you can't be on your feet right now, you inhale and exhale, trying to calm the rapid pace of your heartbeat.
“I’ll probably be taking care of shit for the company anyways, it’s this whole thing with our partners from America–” He sighs, hand running through his hair in irritation.
“Okay. One week, seven days. Not bad, I can do that.” You voice your thoughts out loud unknowingly. You see him check his phone, “I have to go. We can talk about this later.”
“Thats it? You're just leaving again? Dropping this on me?” You stand up, following him to the front door
“In case you weren't aware, I still have a company to run. Trust me I'm not thrilled about this at all, so don't get it twisted.” He says, looking down at you.
“Fuck you.”
He scoffs at you, “You’re fucking ridiculous.” he mutters before walking down to his car. You watch him for a moment before slamming the front door behind you. The pain in your chest doesn't go away, even when you tuck Layla in for bed that night.
-
“Holy shit–Yeah, you might actually be fried,” Sunghoon says, not bothering to ask before sitting down at his desk across from him. “What does that even–” Jake mutters, running his hand through his hair. Attention that was once on the laptop before him gone.
“All I'm saying is that this is not good, I mean when was the last time you two were actually together for more than one hour?” He doesn't respond
“Exactly.”
“I still haven't told her about the room situation.” Sunghoon laughs at that.
“So what? You’re just going to sleep in the same bed together” Jake nods, rubbing his eyebrows in thought “You gonna be able to resist then?”
“What do you mean–”
“You know exactly what I mean. Let's not forget the fact that every woman you’ve been mildly interested in represents her in at least one way.” Sunghoon says, bluntly.
Jake looks down at his computer, not even bothering to argue because it's true. He made sure of it.
“I don't know, okay?” he finally says, that makes Sunghoon do a double take
“Shit. I wasn’t expecting you to admit it.”
“Its not fair. Nothing about this is fair to her, to me. I just wish they would fucking stay out of it.” He mutters, almost to himself. Thinking back to when he first met you, he couldn't deny the immediate attraction he felt, but it all felt like this was just another thing given by his parents, you were just a task, a duty he had to fulfill.
“It’s going to be torture. Having to put up that front, that everything is okay. Making it believable to all of them. When this whole situations fucked up.” Jake says, standing up, looking down at the city from his office window.
“I can’t say I understand it man, but if I was you, I'd meet up with her. Tell her how it’s going to go, I mean.. maybe she won't make it a big deal, right?” Sunghoon suggests, shrugging.
Sunghoon also doesn't know you as well as he does.
—“No, I dropped her off an hour ago.” You put your phone on speaker before setting it down on the bathroom counter.
“So you’re home right now?” Jake asks, you roll your eyes.
“Why?”
“Just answer the question.”
“Mhm, I'm working from home.” you say, trying on some designer dress you bought specifically for Italy.
And yes, obviously you would be excited to go, It’s not like you actually have to be with Jake the whole time anyway. You can spend some time by yourself, or with Layla.
You slip off your bra, the braless look is better for this type of dress anyway. “-outside”
“huh?” you ask, completely forgetting you were on the phone. “Im outside” He says like its the most normal thing
“Wait what-” You look at yourself in the mirror and then back at your phone “Im at the door y/n, let me in.”
“Fuck, fuck–shit” you hiss
“What, do you have someone you don't want me seeing?” That pisses you off even more. You storm downstairs, swinging the front door open with an irritated look on your face.
His gaze drops to your feet, the miss matched socks, to the extremely short, almost see through dress, to your face, and then the messy pony tail on your head.
“Playing dress up huh?” He says, walking in. You scoff before shutting the door, watching as he walks into your living room and sits on your couch.
“What are you doing here? I already said Layla was at pre school.” You walk to the living room, standing in front of him “I need to talk to you about Italy.”
“Okay what about it?” you ask, attitude leaking from your tone. “And aren't you supposed to be at work?” You look down at him, his outfit, black dress pants, to the white button up.
“No, meeting got cancelled.” Even if he was the one to cancel it himself. He decided to come straight here after talking to Sunghoon.
“Okay, spit it out then.” You cross your arms over your chest, he lets out a quiet chuckle. God, you need to be put in your place so bad sometimes.
“I tried requesting a separate room, but my parents found out about it.” He says, casually unbuttoning his shirt collar “So what the hell are you trying to say?”
“You know exactly what I'm saying y/n.” He runs his hand down his face “Look– its one fucking week okay? Just play the part–”
“Of the perfect wife. Right.” You don't even bother sitting next to him. “We don't even have to talk to each other, I mean– when we get there we obviously have to see my mother and father, maybe the partners from America.”
He pulls out his phone “Great.” You watch him scroll through it. “This is a pretty big fucking deal for us y/n. Not everything is about you okay? You knew what you were doing the second you signed that contract five years ago.”
He stands up, gripping his phone tighter than normal in his hand. You open your mouth to speak–close it.
Jake immediately regrets his choice of words, of course you didn't know it would end up like this– separated family, separate houses–
“Y/n–” He drops his head, biting his lip in concentration “Get out Jake.” You watch the way his eyebrows furrow. You two stay there like that for a moment, in a silence, before he turns away from you. You only look at him when he speaks, his voice rough.
“I’ll message you more details later.” He says, shutting the front door behind him. You scoff, sitting down where he just was, trying to keep your cool, even if the very thing you want to do right now is slap his stupidly perfect face.
-
You refused to take his offer of being driven to the airport, which was probably really stupid considering you were literally going to ride in his private plane, While also staying with him in Italy, while playing the part of his wife.
So obviously you wanted to hang on to your last ounce of dignity, even if paying for parking at the airport was definitely avoidable.
You look for the woman that Jake said to follow once you got to the airport. Spotting her immediately since she stood out, young, pretty.
You recognized her from when you were dragged to past work events, ones that you left 30 minutes into after making your appearance as Jake's “wife”.
“Mrs. Sim,” She nods at you, offering to take your bags. “Thank you.” You reply shortly, falling into step beside her as she leads you to the plane, the very spacious one to be exact, from the brown leather reclining seats, to the marble accented ceilings.
You spot Layla immediately, she's sitting next to a man you recognize, Park Sunghoon. He's smiling down at something she said, holding one of her barbies in his hand. The woman next to you stares at him for a moment before facing you.
“Mr. Sim is talking to the Pilot, he wanted me to let you know this is your seat as well” She points to the window seat, among the many other ones, ah–so he's assigning shit to you now.
You set your bag down on it before walking over to Layla, “Hi angel” You smile down at her, her eyes lighting up the second she sees you “Mommy!” She yells in a high pitched tone, standing up in the seat and holding her arms out, you take her in your arms, hugging her back.
“Nice to see you too, Mrs. Sim” Sunghoon says with a smirk, the tone he uses for your name hitting a nerve only someone as cocky as him could.
“You as well, Park.” Layla twirls a strand of your hair, before wiggling out of your arms, a sign she wants to be put down.
“Here you go Miss. Layla” Sunghoon hands her the fairy barbie in his hand, eyes looking past you to the woman you were talking to earlier..
You turn around, taking Layla to your seat.
Jake comes through the Pilots cabin shortly after, glancing down at you, his eyes softening when he looks at Layla beside you.
He stops at where Sunghoon and the other woman are sitting across from each other, both with their laptops out.
“You two do realise you don't have to work while we're on the plane. Save it for when we actually get to Milan.” He sighs,
“I just like to stay ahead.” The woman says, “Let's just say I'm feeling motivated.” Sunghoon adds, eyes not living Jake's other employee. “Yeah– okay, just don’t kill eachother.”
He rolls his eyes, walking back over to where you and Layla sit, you give her the tablet you occasionally let her use, along with her pink unicorn headphones, she happily takes it, leaning against your arm.
Your hand mindlessly brushes through her hair as Jake loosens his tie, his blazer discarded already. You look down at your outfit, a pair of nice fitted jeans, silk blouse, before looking back at him.
“Whats up with those two?” You ask, nodding behind you to where Sunghoon and Jake's other coworker sit. “Ever since I hired her, Sunghoon has had this– inferior complex thing going on.” He sighs, leaning against the cushioned plane seat.
“When they work together, they definitely get shit done, but when they argue it's annoying as hell.” Jake says bluntly, glancing down at Layla, whose focus is on her tablet.
“Oh, I see.” You reply quietly, looking out the window as the plane begins rolling for take off.
-
After an extremely long flight, and parting ways with Jake's coworkers, you finally arrive at his parents' estate in Milan.
“Just play the part” He nods at you, moving to open the car door and get Layla from the backseat. You two don't even have a chance to mentally prepare yourself when you walk in, to see Jake's mother and father both at the door.
Ignoring you and Jake, their focus immediately goes to your daughter “Princess!” His mother says, Layla skips over to her, giving her a hug, “Grandma! Grandpa! I missed you” She says, voice filled with joy, something that both you and Jake can't mirror no matter how hard you try.
His parents finally look at the two of you, “Nice to see you y/n.” His mother says, you smile tightly. “I need to talk to you son, it's about the partners from America.” His father says, giving Jake a pointed look, he fixes his posture, looking at you for a split second before following his father to his study.
“Mommy, you and Daddy will still come and see me right?” Layla looks up at you, eyes wide and childlike.
“Of course sweetheart, we just have important stuff to take care of” You smile down at her, before looking at Jake's mother for a split second, if you looked a little longer you would see the brief concern across her face.
She has no right to feel concerned for you though, considering she's one of the reasons you're here in the first place.
Jake shuts the door behind him, following his father to his desk in the center of the room. “My assistant got the dates wrong for when you were supposed to come.” His father says, eyebrows furrowed in frustration.
“What do you mean she ‘got it wrong’? You couldnt have let me know that before I flew my fucking family out?” Jake says, irritation written all over his face.
“I would have, if I knew. Park Jongseong landed a few hours after you, trust me this isn't ideal for either of us.”
“I need you to go to the Park international office headquarters before you and y/n head where you are staying. He expects you to be there, not for long, just to confirm meetings and etcetera.” His father says, leaning against the desk.
“This is a fucking mess.” Jake groans, running his hand through his hair. “Just get this done, there's going to be issues bigger than this when you actually fully take over the company son, take care of it.”
For some reason, that makes Jake even more upset. Hes fully aware of how this all ends up becoming his responsibility, hell, his whole fucking life has revoled around it, just a bunch of deals, negotiations, arrangements.
“I’ll handle it.” Jake straightens moving to the door, not looking back at his father as he approaches you.
“We need to go.” he looks at you for a brief second before he faces his mother and Layla in her arms. “Bye angel, mommy and daddy will come see you later this week okay?” His voice is gentle when talking to her
“Okay!” She says cheerfully, playing with Jake's mother's expensive diamond necklace, His mother leans up to press a kiss to his cheek, “Drive safe okay?” His mother says, giving him a look of warning.
“I know.” He sighs, walking towards the door, you give Layla one more kiss on her head before following him. Somehow it feels like all of this is a bad decision.
“Where are we going.” It's not a question, it's something you're demanding to know as he pulls out of the stone driveway of his parents estate.
You look at him, his tense jaw, to his hands that are gripped on the steering wheel dangerously tight. “The Park International Office.” He replies back, eyes not leaving the road. “Okay, drop me off before then.”
“No.”
You scoff, looking at him in disbelief “Why the hell not?” you ask, irritation leaking in your tone. The same tone he recognizes so well from when you two actually used to live together, even before you were pregnant with Layla.
“The faster we get this over with, the better.” His voice is stern, unmoving. “Fine. Don't expect me to be all enthusiastic and shit to meet your fancy clients.” You add a mocking flare to the last words, this time he actually looks at you, disbelieving.
“Gosh– I forget how fucking bratty you get.” He says, slight amusement leaking from his voice.
“Can’t forget how much of an asshole you are.” you reply back, rolling your eyes. He pushes his tongue against his cheek, gripping the steering wheel harder.
As he puts the car into park, taking off his seatbelt, he pulls his black framed glasses from the center console, putting them on. You try not to notice the way they sit perfectly on his nose bridge.
“Just play the part.” He says low, opening the door, walking over to open yours but you already got out the second he did. You smooth down your silk blouse, he reaches to hook his arm around yours but you pull back.
“Y/n.” you let out an annoyed sound before taking his arm, the touch foreign, yet almost comforting in a way you don't want to admit.
You see Sunghoon and Jake's other coworker once you enter the building, both with irritated looks on their faces as if they were arguing before falling into step beside Jake.
Sunghoon smirks down at you, before looking at Jake with his brow raised in a knowing look. You watch everyone's eyes follow a man, black hair, sharp features, even sharper jawline as he approaches you.
Jakes hand rests low on your waist, you feel the heat radiation off his palm through your shirt.
“Mr, and Mrs. Sim” He nods politely at you, before doing the same to Jake's coworkers out of respect.
Jake nods back “Mr. Park.” He nods back, you cant help but notice how the man in front of you also looks like he doesn't want to be here.
You stay by Jake's side, even as the man you now recognize as Park Jongseong speaks business, the woman from the plane writing down things on a glass clipboard, while Sunghoon joins the conversation with them.
You sigh, slightly annoyed, your performative exterior crumbling the longer you have to stand by his side.
What felt like hours, but was most likely only 30 minutes of having to perform as his ‘perfect little wife’ you two finally got to the place you were staying, an extremely nice estate, it was almost like a penthouse, overlooking the water.
You still don't understand why you and Jake couldn't have stayed at his parents estate, but you guess this is what everyone insisted on.
You shove past him to get in the room, ignoring the way he glares daggers at the back of your head, only to pause when you reach the bedroom.
He follows after you, letting one of the room service workers bring in your stuff. You both freeze, staring at the bed.
The rose petals covering the white comforter, you feel your cheeks flush when they land on the condoms, assorted to make some sort of heart on the nightstand, you quickly move, opening the drawer to shove them inside of it only for your whole body to still.
“What the fuck–” Your eyes meet a pair of handcuffs, next to them, a bottle of unopened lube.
You swear your whole body is on fire, “I-Is this some kind of like– sex resort?” You turn to Jake, gaping at him.
He looks like he's at a loss for words, hand clutched tight around the suitcase handle. You move past him to the room service workers who are bringing in your stuff.
“Hi, sorry, I think we have the wrong room, I'm confused with all the–stuff laying around.” You can't help the slight tremble in your voice, the woman unloads your suitcase off the carrier, before standing straight.
“Ma’am, this was booked specifically with the additions to it.” She says warily.
Jake follows out the bedroom, realisation dawning. Sunghoon.
He should have known better than to have the idiot be the one to book where to stay.
“Shit.” He mutters, before looking at the woman, and the other two who helped bring your stuff up here
“You may leave, Thank you.” He hands her handfull of money, you couldn't see how much, but from the slightly shocked look on her face, you knew it was more than needed.
The door shutting behind them, leaving you and Jake in a penthouse in Italy, alone.
One that practically screamed sex, you crossed your arms over your chest, giving him that look.
“Sunghoon booked it. I was busy with meetings– Fuck, I knew I shouldnt have let him.” He takes off his glasses rubbing the bridge of his nose in irritation.
“God, of course he would do something like this.” You look around, besides the..stuff, it was a really nice place, probably the nicest you could have gotten, but that was expected with how wealthy he was.
You sigh, not looking back before walking towards the bedroom to unpack your things.
His eyes follow you, trailing a path down your body, the way your jeans cling to your hips, swaying in a way that could make any man weak.
Example being the way some of the men in Park Jongseongs office eyed you down.
You looked around the room- hell, Even the bathroom held the same aura as the bedroom, built for something intimate.
The shower lining the back, completely open, besides the glass in the middle, one shower head on the left, and one on the right, a fair distance away from each other, the dark tile made it feel even more dangerous.
This whole place was just one big temptation, with Jake being the center of it all.
-
For being in the same penthouse as him, it was surprisingly easy to avoid each other. He mentioned something about Sunghoon, and this and that, in which you were half listening, half trying to ignore the way his short sleeved button up fit him.
There must be something in the air, there's stuff for that right? Perfume that makes you obnoxiously horny. Because that's the only reasonable explanation.
You finish blow drying your hair, running the detangling oil through it, the one that smells like fruits.
Checking the time, 9:48. Layla is probably already asleep, you open your phone, checking for any notifications, a part of you already knows who you're looking for.
“Im so fucked.” Jake groans, hair messy, glasses forgotten, the first few buttons on his shirt open, his tone chest revealed.
He takes the drink the bartender offered him, her hand grazing his at the exchange, Jake doesn't even notice it.
Sunghoon raises a brow at his state, looking at the woman behind the counter now serving a group of girls vodka shots.
The music isn't too loud, considering he specifically wanted a bar that wasn't meant for too much partying.
Jake looks around, the couples sitting down, happy, intertwined.
“Like I said, you just need some pussy.” Sunghoon mutters causally, looking as composed as ever.
“Yeah, hers.” Jake mumbles, making Sunghoon laugh, actually fucking laugh in his face. “I take it back, no amount of pussy is gonna save your ass.”
“Fuck Hoon– they even put flowers on the bed. Don’t even get me started on the handcuffs either.” Jake rubs his temple in irritation.
“Hey, it took some real convincing to get them to go all in with the kinky shit.” Sunghoon raises his hands in defense, like that makes it any better.
“What makes you think I even–”
“Trust me, I know. Real recognizes real.” He says through a smirk. Jake can't help but let out a huffed chuckle, filled with amusement, and also disbelief.
“You know, this is honestly your fault.” Jake levels his gaze, downing the rest of his drink.
“You sure you don’t just need someone to blame for your heart throbbing obsession with your baby mama?” Sunghoon says through that shit eating grin he wears when he knows he's right. I mean hell, he might just be.
Jake shakes his head, trying to get rid of any irrational thoughts, focusing on the truth, you want nothing to do with him in that way.
You probably hated him, most likely wouldn’t even be talking to him if it werent for Layla.
“Alright prove it then.” Sunghoon says, challenging. Jake raises a brow suspiciously, “That bartender right there in the tiny shorts, she's been eyeing you this whole time. You were too busy sulking about how much you want to fuck y/n to notice.” Sunghoon pauses for a moment, watching as Jake looks at the woman, her eyes locked on his before turning back to him.
“Flirt back, see where that leads you.” Sunghoon finished, downing the rest of his drink.
Jake chuckles, although there's no amusement filled in it, just straight up boredom. “Im not flirting with her, let alone fucking her.” Jake says, voice low.
Sunghoon's eyes light up immediately, victory gleaming in them. “Knew it.” He shakes his head, knowingly.
He opens his mouth to speak, but closes it as his screen lights up with a notification. Jake watches as Sunghoon picks up his phone, reading whatever it is, typing, sending, and standing up.
“We’ve been here for less than 24 hours and you already found someone?” Jake asks, a tone of exhaustion.
“You already know it.” Sunghoon offers a playful wink, shoving his phone in his pocket. “Don’t forget about the meeting we have with Park Jongseong either, The Prada ambassadors are also attending.” Jake says sternly, his voice he uses for business coming out.
“Yes, sir.” Sunghoon chuckles, leaning against the stool for a second “You good for tonight though?” he asks, slight concern around the edges.
“Yeah, I'm fine. I'm headed back soon anyway.” Jake says, giving him a tight smile, Sunghoon watches him for a moment, before parting ways.
Jake stays for about five more minutes before standing up and walking back to the penthouse– to you.
He's always been good about handling his alcohol, plus he didn't have much to drink anyway. So when you hear the sound of the door being unlocked, shut, and footsteps coming to the bedroom, you attempt to put on the facade of being fast asleep.
He walks in, closing the bedroom door shut behind him, eyes immediately on you, curled into the sheets like it was natural.
He doesn't know what comes over him when he walks over to your side of the bed, wanting to get a closer look at you, because it's been so.. so long since hes seen you like this.
He can't help himself when he brushes a finger over your cheek, it takes everything in you to stop your body from reacting.
“What are you doing to me..” He whispers, low, that you almost couldn't hear it. The slight smell of the crisp fresh air, his signature cologne, and faint alcohol lingering off of him.
He steps back immediately, touch gone from your skin, like you burned him, or like realisation finally dawned.
You don't open your eyes yet, You listen to the sound of his footsteps, descending away from you, moving to the bathroom.
You let out a breath, the one you've been holding ever since he opened the bedroom door, your heart beating rapidly, in a way it did when the boy you had a crush on in high school glanced your way. Childish, stupid.
The shower feels big, empty, even more so as the cold water hits his skin repeatedly, hardly helping with the burning of his body, or the way his dick throbs the second you invade his thoughts without permission, again.
He’s fucking pathetic, you have every right to hate him.
In this moment of him being alone, surrounded by the dark, the dimmed lights illuminating the cold bathroom, all he can think about is how he would do anything to go back in time.
Put his fucked up pride to the side, anything to not be in this situation right now, with this need– not just for anyone, not for some random woman, but for you.
Because it's something about you, not just because of Layla, not because you’re ‘forced’ to be in each other's presence, he can't deny it anymore.
He can’t deny that he’s utterly obsessed with you, and absolutely fucked. Just like Sunghoon said.
-
Falling asleep last night might have been one of the hardest things, considering you could practically feel the heat radiating off his body the second he slipped in the bed with you.
You stayed turned so you were facing the large balcony slide door, watching the moonlight seep in.
You didn't want it to affect you this much, but somehow it still did. So after finally getting the strength to get up, and get ready for the day, because you might as well attempt to enjoy being here in Italy.
You see Jake, standing up at the edge of the counter, taking a sip of some expensive coffee.
“Took you long enough.” He tries, and fails to hide the way his eyes roam down your body, the way the floral dress clings to you, it could be considered modest, but the way it hugs your curves, makes him think things he probably shouldn't.
You raise your brow in question, closing the distance to make yourself coffee as well. He places a mug in front of you instead, catching you off guard.
You turn to look at him, eyes scanning his face, the glasses sitting on top of his head to the rather simple outfit he's sporting today.
“Whats with you, do you want something?” You ask skeptically.
Fuck yeah he wants something, preferably you though, sitting on his face perchance?
“Am I not allowed to make coffee for the mother of my child?” He turns fully, using the counter as support to lean against.
You level your eyes even more, “I was going to head to the estate, see Layla, maybe we can take her out for the day.” He takes another sip of his coffee, brushing past you to place the mug in the sink.
“Together?” You ask suspiciously, confusion settling in your tone. “Yes y/n, together.” He says like it's the most obvious thing. Like you two do this all the time, when in reality you don’t even remember the last time he suggested something like this, if he even did.
“I mean we're both here, she's always going on about how she wants us both.” He offers lightly, watching the way your face softens.
“Okay then, for Layla.” You clarify, taking a sip of the coffee he prepared for you, the rich taste settling just right.
“We also have dinner in 2 days with Park Jongseong and his girlfriend.” He adds in casually. Washing the mug off in the sink.
Your brain pauses for a moment, processing what just came out of his mouth. “Knew you wanted something.” You chuckle, but it's humorless.
“Its one fucking dinner y/n.” he turns, facing you. “Yeah, and a whole week of being here, stuck with you.”
He opens his mouth to speak, closes it. “We can talk about this later. Right now let's focus on Layla.”
He says it like he's being the bigger person here. As if he's not dropping things on you left and right, and that irritates you even more.
But you don’t fight it, because a part of him is right, you two can stop your bickering for a few hours to spend time with your daughter.
-
“The purple one?” Layla asks, looking up at you, than at Jake, you glance down at the gelato in front of you, “One lavender please” You smile at the man behind the counter as he scoops it into a cone, “One lavender Gelato for you” He hands it to her, her eyes lighting up as she takes it,
“Anything for the happy couple?” He asks, eyes darting between you and Jake, you don't notice the way he stills beside you. “Can I get the Raspberry please?” The kind man nods, handing you the cone, some of it dripping on your hand due to the warm weather.
“Ill take the salted caramel” He pays for it, walking on the other side of Layla, “Should we sit at the table?” You ask Layla, looking down at her as she tries to keep up with the steps you and Jake take, her pigtails swaying with her, you smile at how happy she is.
“Yes!” Jake helps her up, taking the seat next to her, you settle for the one across from them.
Jake smiles at Layla, as she goes on about something related to her toys, and how ‘Hoon’ needs to come back and play as the fairy doll again, his eyes go to you, the light pink gelato dripping down your hand, the way your tongue darts out to lick it off.
It's like his body reacts before his mind does, he reaches over, swiping his thumb across the bottom of your lip, the gelato that dripped being cleaned up.
You freeze, eyes immediately on him. He retracts his hand immediately, “Sorry– you had something-” He stops talking when the sound of his phone cuts through, picking it up and reading whatever is on his screen.
“Are you done, Lay?” Jake looks down at Layla beside him, she nods, “Let me guess, you have somewhere to be?” You ask unsurprising.
“Its Park Jongseong and the Prada ambassadors— nevermind” He replies blandly, standing up and helping Layla, you chuckle, but not in amusement, or in surprise, because you knew this was going to happen anyway.
“Come on Lay, you know..” You smile down at her, before looking up at him, a certain glint in your eyes. “Daddy apparently has better things to do.”
You can feel his eyes boring into you, you don't look at him when you stand up and hold her hand. Who cares if it's childish, or bratty, you’re right anyway.
“I love you angel, be good okay?” You press a light kiss to Layla's forehead, Jake gives her a hug, before heading to the front door, you offer a tight smile to his mother before following after him.
You don't bother looking at him, or trying to talk to him once you're both in the car. You watch as Sunghoon’s name flashes across the screen, a call.
Jake looks at you for a second, before hesitantly pressing accept. “Final fuckingly man, had me thinking you actually got some–” “You’re on speaker Sunghoon.” Jake cuts through his words.
“Oh shit.. Uh– hey y/n” you can practically see the fake concern on his face. Jake sighs, urging him to continue
“Right so, Park Jongseong’s assistant said the Prada ambassadors are already at his office, they're just waiting on us.” Jake bites down on his lip, hard. “Fuck– okay, tell them ill be there shortly.”
“I got you, don’t get too distracted..” Sunghoon says through a chuckle before hanging up. You feel a slight blush coat your cheeks at that, turning your head more towards the window to avoid Jake's gaze.
Every few minutes, he can't help when his eyes shift to you, the faint sunkissed glow coating your skin, the way your dress clings to your body–
You regret the way you acted earlier, it was a little bratty, and petty..but then again you've always been, at least according to him.
He puts the car into park, unlocking the door, you don't say anything but before you step out, you turn your face towards him.
“About earlier.. It was uncalled for, I understand you’re busy, I shouldn't have said that in front of Layla.” You bite on your lip nervously, a habit he's noticed since the day your parents introduced the two of you.
He raises a brow, a playful smirk on his face “Are you apologizing?” He asks, eyeing you up and down
“What– I mean.. I-” You stumble over your words, making him let out an amused laugh “It’s fine y/n. I know I'm not the best..” He pauses, looking down for a split second to think of the right word “..arrange..ment.” he cringes at the end,
“I try for Layla, even with the shit from the company piling up.” His hand rests steady on the steering wheel, You watch his face, his eyes, taking in the sincerity.
“You’re a good father, Jake.”
You don't try to put on a forced smile, before stepping out of the car fully, shutting the door behind you, the second you're out of sight he buries his face in his hands, letting out a strangled groan. God– you’re killing him, so fucking slowly.
-
“Fuck– Ive been wanting to do this for so long” Jake says through a groan, pounding ruthlessly into you. You mutter something back, face buried into the soft pillows beneath you, not even caring about the saliva coming out of your mouth from how hard he’s fucking you.
“Want me to fill this pretty pussy up again?” he leans down, pulling your hair back to expose your neck, hips slamming into you, making your back arch against his chest. You're a moaning mess under him, his teeth nip below your ear, his free hand holding your hip, grounding you as his thrusts grow sharper—
Jake freezes at the door of the bedroom as soon as he opens it, eyes wide looking at you, the sheets tangled around the ends of your feet, almost your whole body exposed, the oversized T-shirt you're wearing ridden up to reveal a glimpse of your underboob, your light pink sleep shorts practically sticking to your core, a faint outline of your pussy visible even through the clothing layers with how wet you seem to be.
Theres no fucking way–
A whine escapes your lips, or was it a moan? He can't help but step closer, lingering at the edge of the bed, your body squirms, thighs squeezing together in a poor attempt to satisfy the throbbing heat between your legs.
The smell of you so fucking delicious, clouding his senses. He almost feels sorry for you, gosh you must be desperate if you're having a wet dream in the middle of your shared bed with him. You let out another small noise, or was it a word?
He brings his finger up, gently swiping away a bead of sweat from above your eyebrow, trailing down your arm, lightly over the curve of your exposed hip, leaning closer to hear you better
“J-Jake..” You whisper, barely audible, he stills, stepping back, running a hand through his hair.
Fuck this is wrong.. This is so, so wrong, He looks down at you again, biting his lip in thought.
He ultimately grabs the sheet, bringing it up from your feet to cover your body, trying to ignore the heat of your skin.
This cannot be real. He glances down at you one more time before going to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him with a soft click, leaning against it.
Letting the cool crisp air swallow him, anything to get rid of what he's feeling right now. He looks down, the hard bulge now clearly visible in his pants.
Bringing his hand down to palm himself through them, he hisses at the contact, how sensitive he is right now.
He wastes no time unbuttoning his shirt, discarding his pants and underwear next, stepping inside of the big shower, cool tile against his feet, he turns on the water, the warmth coating his skin.
The water drips down his body, he lifts a hand to steady himself against the black tile wall, bringing his other down to wrap around his thick cock, practically standing on its own, tip angry and red from how much he's neglected his own pleasure.
Pumping his fist once, a bead of pre cum slips out of the slit, mixing with the warm shower water as it drains beneath his feet.
“Fuck..” He groans, fucking into his fist faster, leaning his head back as the water falls onto his face, his mouth hangs open, he closes his eyes, trying to imagine what you were thinking about, fuck his name sounds so pretty coming from your mouth, especially like that.
His groans grow more ragged as he strokes himself faster, “y/n..” he bites his lip, hard enough to draw blood as his warm cum spurts out, coating the dark tile wall, dripping down, making a mess on his hand, he looks down, eyebrows furrowed as he attempts to milk every last drop, watching as the water washes it away.
He lets out a breathless chuckle, almost pitying himself and this whole situation.
The next morning you woke up to an empty bed, the bright sun shining in through the sheer curtains illuminating the bedroom.
Even in the shower as the warm water hits your skin, you couldn't shake the dream you had last night, how real it felt, the way he spoke, the way he touched you– the closeness of it all, so vividly in your reach.
You decided, well actually you were technically forced to use this day for yourself.
He was working. In all honesty, he didn't have to, but being with you again, alone, was killing him.
You were enjoying yourself, as one would do in Italy of all places, soaking in the warm sun on the balcony, book in hand when you got the text, the one that made your phone vibrate a little too loudly against the glass side table.
Something about it already told you it wasn't going to be good.
Jake: Client dinner tonight with Park Jongseong and his girlfriend. 7:00. Your dress is being dropped off now. I’ll be there at 6:45 to pick you up. Clean up for me, yeah?
You read the message once, twice, practically hearing the smugness in his voice at the last few words.
You type out a reply, delete it. He smirks down at his phone, seeing that you read it was enough.
Exactly 30 minutes later, the same woman from the airplane stands at the front door of the penthouse, garment bag in hand.
“Thank you.” You give her a soft smile, one that she attempts to mirror back, handing the dress to you. “Mr. Sim informed me you had the jewelry you needed, but if you need me too I can arrange–”
“It's fine.” You reply back dryly, she pauses for a moment “God, Sorry I'm just stressed” You fold the dress over your arm.
“Thank you, and yes I have everything I need.” You say, breathing out. She offers a tight lipped smile, giving a polite nod before walking back towards the elevator, you shut the door once she's out of sight.
“Oh my gosh–” you gape at the dress, fully taking it out of the garment bag, laying on the bed before you.
The dark red contrasts with the white sheets, the cut a little too deep for something like this. You glance at the time on your phone, 5:26, if you start getting ready now you should be done before he gets here.. You bite your lip, contemplating. No harm in starting early, you have nothing to do in the meantime anyway.
“Y/n–” Jake's eyes trail down your body, shamelessly, like he has the right– “You look..”
“Dont.” You hold your hand up giving him an almost strict look, while also suddenly feeling conscious of how low cut the dress is, the silk material soft on your skin.
He lets out a breathless chuckle, eyes staying glued to your chest without you knowing before putting the car into drive.
Park Jongseong, or Jay, as his girlfriend called him came in shortly after you and Jake sat down, the restaurant had a warm glow to it, truly an elegant place.
His girlfriend had the most genuine smile on her face. The dinner was going smoothly, as anything work related with Jake could be until she asked a question that had both you and Jake tensing beside each other
“So, How long have you two been married?” She asks sweetly, genuine curiosity in her eyes, you look at Jake for a split second, missing the way Jay squeezes her thigh, “Um- well we-” Jake interrupts quickly
“We had Layla four years ago, so around that.. Time.” He says, clearing his throat. The conversation quickly switches thanks to Jay.
The ride back was quiet until Jake decided to open his mouth. “Do you think I was too obvious?” He asks, eyes on the thin road before him, you turn your head from the window, looking at him, analysing the nervous way he brings his lip between his teeth, the slight movement of his jaw.
“What? About how we’re not actually the perfect, happy family you seem to paint us as?” You ask, a surprising calmness in your voice.
He shoots you a look, eyes dropping to your lips for a split second, before looking away just as quickly.
You scoff, “Anyone with half a brain could see.”
“Fuck is that supposed to mean?” He pulls the car into park, looking at you, expecting an answer.
“Im not doing this tonight.” You reach to open the car door but he stops your hand, grip tight, not enough to hurt, but enough to assert something deep.
“No. Tell me what you mean.” You shake off his hand, the heat of it too much on your skin, praying that he didn't notice the way your pulse spiked the second his skin made contact with yours.
You sigh, facing him fully.
“You don't act like my husband Jake. You never have, anyone could see that. Honestly, we're practically strangers at this point, the only thing keeping us together is Layla.”
You pause, trying to point out whatever emotion is flashing behind his eyes before continuing with a sigh, “Our marriage is a mere title, so dont be fucking shocked when it becomes clear as day to everyone else.”
“Y/n—“ he starts but you’re already leaning away. He doesn't stop you when you open the door, shutting it a little too hard behind you as you make your way into the building, the sole of your heels digging into your feet in a way that makes you want to throw them on the ground.
Jake slams his hand down against the steering wheel, running a hand through his hair, he turns off the car, locking it behind him before following you, because no way in hell is he ending the night like that.
Your heart is racing when you shut the door behind you, all while resisting the urge to sink to the ground.
You take off your heels by the door, immediately removing the unnecessarily heavy jewelry from your neck and ears.
You hold your hand up to your chest, feeling the consistent beating of your heart. The familiar click of the door lets you know Jake just walked in.
You stand up quickly, moving to the bathroom, shutting the door behind you, acting as if it was another barrier between the two of you.
Without a thought you slip off the red silk from your body, letting it fall to the dark tiled ground. Walking into your side of the shower you turn on the water, letting it warm up enough till the steam is visible, you’re in need of anything to drown out how you're feeling right now, you step under it, letting the water fall into your hair, wetting your body, the steam clouds around you, almost creating a blanket in the open coolness of the bathroom.
You thread your fingers through your hair, letting the water seep into every bit of your scalp. The warm, dimmed light of the bathroom reflecting slightly off of the dark glossy tile wall before you.
Jake tosses his keys on the marbled counter, swinging open the bedroom door, only to find it empty.
The faint sound of water falling onto tile seeping out from under the bathroom door has his attention immediately.
He sits down on the edge of the bed, leaning against his knees.
God, he's going to regret this.
He stands up, taking off his tie with practiced ease, doing the same with his belt, untucking his white button up, and unbuttoning it halfway before opening the door to the bathroom, the fan does nothing to get rid of the steam filling the open space. The large glass wall is fogged up, he can almost see the outline of your silhouette if he squints.
You don't see him, or hear him, the only sound filling your ears being the water hitting your skin and the tile beneath your feet.
You turn to the side slightly, eyes closed, he traces the curve of your breast, swallowing before unbuttoning the other half of his shirt and discarding the rest of the clothes on the ground beside your dress.
He lets out a breathless chuckle, looking down at his flushed dick practically standing on its own from how fucking hard he is.
Jake steps in, turning on the shower head a few feet away from you, the new heat bringing a fresh cloud of steam to cover you.
He doesn't look at you as he steps under the water, letting it wet his hair. You watch him, a slightly stunned expression on your face “Jake–” The word comes out breathless, almost pathetic.
He chuckles low. “Y/n.” He glances in your direction, eyes staying on your face.
The awareness kicks in, that you're in the shower alone, with only a few feet of distance between the two of you.
You can't help your eyes, you really tried, but they trail down his body, his toned form.
Fuck, hes definitely been working out.
Your eyes ultimately land on his cock, watching the way the water drips down his body. The wetness forming between your legs has nothing to do with the shower water falling on your body, and everything to do with him.
He notices you looking, even with the barrier of steam between the two of you.
He doesn't bother turning off his shower head, closing the space between the two of you. His hand reaches out, not touching yet. Completely lost in the moment.
You let out a noise, it was supposed to be a word, maybe for him to stop?
No, it was definitely for him to keep going. When he speaks it comes out rough, uncontrolled, so different from how he speaks to everyone else. “Strangers huh?” You don't meet his gaze.
He brings his hand to your chin, forcing you to look in his eyes, his thumb swipes over your bottom lip, your mouth opening almost on command.
His cock jumps at the sight. The warm water soaks through your hair, the sensation of it forgotten with this new heat before you.
“Do strangers do this?” He brings his hand down, tracing your collar bone with his finger, you shudder at the touch.
He smirks at the way you're body reacts to his featherlight touches.
You gasp when his finger circles around your nipple smoothly. “Fuck, these tits are perfect” He brings his other hand up, repeating the motion on the other side.
You shudder, letting out a breathless sound, your nipples hardening from his teasing touch. “You’re sensitive huh?” He chuckles down at you, nudging his cock against your stomach.
“Shut up..” You’re cut off when he gives both of your nipples a firm pinch. “When was the last time someone touched you like this?” He asks, voice low, only for you to hear even though you’re alone.
He brings one of his hands lower, just past your belly button, pausing for an answer. You shake your head, closing your eyes.
“Come on mama, give me words.” He encourages sweetly even as his cock jumps at the sight of you before him like this.
“Not since you.” You whisper so low the sound of the shower water covers it. He shakes his head, inching down lower, cupping your soaking heat in the palm of his hand, you let out a moan, reaching both hands out, grabbing his veiny forearm to steady yourself.
He slowly rocks his palm against you. “Say that again.” He presses harder, reaching around to tilt your head back so he can really see.
“I said, not since you.” He lets out a sound that you definitely aren't mistaking as a moan.
“Fuck–” He bites back his words, hand still cupping you, your juices leaking past his fingers, blending with the warm water pooling beneath you both.
“So this whole time..” He pauses, removing his hand from your heat, earning a whimper from you, "..you've had nothing but these.”
He lifts your right hand up, brushing over your middle and ring finger, the touch gentle.
You nod, a slight blush creeping up your face, a part of you would feel a little embarrassed, maybe ashamed if not for the situation right now.
“Show me.” He urges, bring your hand down, he backs you up a few inches until your back is flushed against the cool tile walls, the warm water contrasting,
“You have to do it too then..” You look down at his cock, veins prominent, tip aching. He follows your gaze, smirking.
You two match each other's pace, you spread your legs ever so slightly, the best you can for standing up, rubbing small circles on your sensitive bud, the feeling even more exhilarating with him watching you so intently.
The little ‘ah’ sounds you’re letting out sending pulses straight to his dick. He brings his own hand down, swiping his thumb over the slit of his cock. Mouth hanging open as he wraps his hand around the base.
You feel yourself get even more wet at the sight, the desperate huffs he's letting out, his eyes don't know what to focus on, ultimately landing on your pussy when you push one of your small fingers in, the squelching noise so clear above everything else, he lets out a groan, a bead of pre cum leaking from his tip.
“Let me taste you” He breathes out, hand stopping your wrist. You freeze, looking up at him “Please..I- fuck, I need to.”
He brings your fingers up to his mouth, tongue darting out to lick before sucking them clean, the sight alone draws a wrecked sound from you.
“Jake..” You whisper out, dragging your fingers out of his mouth, smearing them on his chin, he looks so pathetic like this.
He reaches beside you, turning down the pressure of the water before lowering himself to the ground, his eyes never leave yours.
He lifts one of your legs, pressing a light kiss on your inner thigh, trailing smaller kisses closer to where you need him most, he rests your leg on his bare shoulder, completely exposing you to him,
“You dont know how fucking bad ive wanted this y/n..” He whispers breath ghosting over your slick folds. “..how much I've craved this, even all those years ago.”
You bump your pussy against his face and he wastes no time licking a stripe from your hole to your clit, you arch against the cool tile wall, pressing yourself even more on his face, his hands travel up your body, cupping your ass in his hands, palming the soft flesh, bringing you impossibly closer.
He's completely lost in you, not letting a single drop of your arousal leak anywhere except in his mouth.
His nose nudges your clit every time he fucks his tounge into your hole, “Yeah.. fuck, f-feels so good..” You bring your hands up, lacing them in his wet hair.
He mumbles something back, the vibration making your hips jerk, he brings one of his hands down from your ass, sneaking it up to replace his tongue with two of his slender fingers, the new feeling so different from your own fingers.
He looks up at you, the way your head is thrown back against the cool wall, mouth hanging open, fuck you’re beautiful like this.
He latches his lips onto your aching clit, flicking it with his tongue as his fingers work your tight hole.
You tug his hair harder, encouraging him without words, his fingers inside of you curl just right, hitting a spot that has you seeing stars, he sucks even harder on your clit, feeling your walls flutter around his fingers, greedily sucking them in.
A moan, almost a scream escapes from your lips as a fresh round of juices flood out of you, soaking the lower half of his face, he greedily drinks everything you let out, not letting a drop go to waste.
He lowers your leg back on the ground, pressing a light kiss to your thigh before leaving wet ones up your body, kissing his way along your jaw, your cheeks, your lip–
He pauses when he feels your body tense against his. His lips less than an inch away from yours.
“Whats wrong–” He leans back slightly, eyes darting across your face “I..I cant” He tilts his head, hands still on your waist but a confused look washes over his face
"I'm not going to force you to do anything mama, but why?” He searches your eyes for an answer “Jake– we haven't even kissed since the wedding”
“Y/n, you just let me eat you out, which to be fair I would do it a thousand times more, but a kiss is too much for you?”
You bring your hands up, burying your face in them “Fuck, I know okay? We were just caught up in the moment–” You don't see it, but he's looking at you with genuine sadness, not because you won't go any further, but because you’re not even comfortable enough to do so,
“Baby-” he starts, bringing his own hand up to pull yours from your face but you stop him, moving around, too ashamed to even look in his eyes.
“We can just forget this happened okay?” His hands fall to his sides, “But-”
“Please, I–I can't go through it again.” Your voice cracks, a pain sharpening in your chest.
He opens his mouth to speak but you turn before he can, grabbing a towel from the nicely folded pile, the water feels cold now, almost limp as he stares at the spot you were just standing in.
He licks his lips, the faint taste of you still lingering.
He curses himself for acting on instinct, it was too fast and he knew it. But how couldn't he? You’re irresistible, the only constant desire in his life that never fades. So no, he's not just going to ‘forget this’.
He'd be stupid to.
-
You try to ignore Jake's eyes on you throughout the plane ride, focusing on anything except for him, whether it's Layla showing you something on her I pad, or Sunghoon and Jake's other coworker bickering over something useless.
It's best to just pretend like nothing happened, so treating him the exact same as you did before this trip is the best way to do that.
You grab your bag from the overhead bin, helping Layla put her dolls in her small backpack, moving to get off his plane without a word, when he grabs your wrist.
“Sunghoon.” He says, eyes not leaving yours for a second. Sunghoon closes the distance, “Take Layla to y/ns car.” he nods before picking her up, Jake's other coworker follows after.
You turn fully to look at him, arms crossed over your chest in annoyance. “What?”
“I’m not forgetting what happened.” His eyes drop to your lips, making it known he's looking.
“Well I am.” you try to reply calmly, composed. But there's a slight tremble in your voice, one that he doesn't miss. Something washes over his face.
He straightens his shoulders “Okay.” Is all he says before brushing past you, leaving you in the middle of the wide aisle.
Him with the last word, one that you're trying to make sense of. Because there was so much more hidden underneath it, a part of you doesn't even want to know.
You see Sunghoon crouching down to Layla's level, saying something that makes her giggle. He stands when he sees you, a cocky smirk plastered on his face.
“See you later Mrs. Sim.” You roll your eyes, opening the car door to help Layla get inside, closing it.
“Park.” You call out, Sunghoon stops, turning slightly with an eyebrow raised in question.
“Make sure he doesn't do anything reckless.”
He lets out a low chuckle, looking at the ground before his focus is back on you. “I can try, but I can’t promise anything.” Is all he says before offering his infamous wink, hands tucked nonchalantly in his suit pant pockets, walking away.
-
Everyone has different ways of coping, sulking around could be one.
But that was never something Jake found relieving. So here he is, at some club with none other than Park Sunghoon.
“You’ve got this sexy dad look about you..” Some girl, who he doesn't even remember the name of says, fingers brushing over the collar of his shirt along the thin silver chain that clings to his skin.
Jake's attention is brought back to her, she's a pretty girl, short black hair, but nothing she's saying is interesting to him.
She presses closer to him, purposely positioning her tits on his arm, teasing. She thinks she's being subtle but it's painfully obvious.
He looks over her shoulder, at the dance floor where Sunghoon has his hands on some blonde girl's waist as they practically dry hump each other.
He chuckles, the girl in front of him beaming proudly, thinking she's the one who made him laugh.
“Do you wanna maybe..” The girl leans in close, standing on her tip toes to reach his ear, lips grazing “..get out of here?”
He looks down at her, boredom plastered on his face. “No.” Is all he says, the girl raises her brow, offended.
Jake takes another sip of his drink, not even sure what one he's on. She scoffs, stepping back from pressing against him
“What do you mean ‘no’?” She asks accusingly. “No, as in I don't want you.” He states in an obvious tone.
Sunghoon curses under his breath whispering something into the ear of the woman he's dancing with before walking through the crowd effortlessly to get to him.
“Fucking—” She yells, a little too loudly, to the point where Sunghoon can hear it a few feet away, and heads are turning towards the scene.
Jake rolls his eyes, “Im not interested.” He shrugs, downing the rest of his drink, the girl straightens to say something else, but Sunghoon cuts in between the two.
“Alright, I think it's time for us to go!” He says a bit too energetically, hand resting on Jake's shoulder. The girl rolls her eyes “Your friends an asshole.” She mutters before walking away to go flirt with some other guy, Sunghoon turns, facing Jake completely now.
“What?” Jake asks, like it's completely normal.
“Dude, you were the one who said you ‘needed some pussy to take your mind off things’ and when a chick practically throws herself at you, literally by the way, you reject it?”
Sunghoon looks Jake up and down like a mad man, "She's not her.” Jake mutters, voice low, as if you could hear him talking right now.
Sunghoon chuckles, actually fucking chuckles at his state. “Oh I see, let me guess, you did some shit, right? Thought with your dick instead of your head?”
When he doesn't respond, Sunghoon laughs in his face. “I should’ve known, man.”
“I fucked it up.” Jake groans, running his hand through his tousled hair, down his face, the slight stubble that he let grow a few weeks after the Italy trip scratching his hand roughly.
“You didnt fuck her right?” Sunghoon asks, an unfamiliar seriousness in his voice. “What– thats” “Okay thats answer enough.”
“Maybe try actually sitting down, having a conversation?” Sunghoon suggests, trying his best with advice.
“She won't even look at me, and besides that she acts the same. But it fucking hurts.” Jake sighs, leaning against the bar counter.
Sunghoon watches him for a few seconds, making a ‘yikes’ face “Damn, you really got it bad huh?”
Jake pulls out his phone from his pocket, fingers finding their way to your contact, he clicks on the messages, the last thing in the chat being a photo of Him, Layla, and you eating Gelato in Italy together.
In the photo, someone might actually think he had the perfect family, beautiful wife, and daughter. If only they knew.
Jake types something, fumbling over the keyboard, Sunghoon looks down at the phone, eyes widening
“Absolutely fucking not.” He snatches the phone from Jake's hand earning a glare “I need to talk to her.” Jake says firmly.
“Not when you’re wasted like this” Sunghoon chuckles, tucking the phone in his own pocket. “Give me the fucking phone Hoon.”
“No, because you’re literally going to kill me tomorrow for letting you text her.” Sunghoon backs up a step, Jake takes a step forward.
“Or I could now for not letting me text her.” Jake levels his gaze on him, “Alright fine” He says finally, pulling out the phone from his pocket
“Let me do something first though” Jake watches as he types something random on his phone, multiple times before realising “You fucking–” Jake snatches his phone back,
iPhone Unavailable
Try again in 3 hours
“Whoops” Sunghoon shrugs, before his attention is pulled from the same blonde girl from earlier tapping his shoulder, Jake watches as his flirty persona immediately makes a comeback
“Bathrooms empty if you wanna..” Jake blocks out the rest of the words, signaling the bartender to come over “Do you guys have a phone I could borrow?” He asks, genuine curiosity in his tone, the younger man nods, handing him one from the counter.
Sunghoons eyes turn back to Jake for a split second to see him dialing your number “Fuck– fuck, no.” He snatches the phone from him, cursing before turning to the girl he was just talking to,
“Gimme a few minutes okay baby?” Sunghoon says to the girl, she blushes and nods, his attention goes back to Jake and the phone immediately.
“Hello?” You say confused, sitting up in bed, trying to see if you heard the words right.. Maybe someone accidentally called your number?
Sunghoon curses, glaring at Jake who shrugs with a cocky shit eating grin on his face. “Yeah, hey Y/n.” Sunghoon says, defeat evident in his voice. “Park?” You ask, now fully seated up in your bed.
You turn up the volume, the faint sound of music and chatter in the back, but the sound of him bickering with someone covers most of it, you only catch every other word–”Give me–the phone!” You sigh
“Park what's going on?” You hear him groan on the other end, and persumabley Jake say something along the lines of “Fuck you”
“Sorry! Wrong number” Is all you hear before the line goes blank, you look down at your phone in confusion.
“Yeah, we're leaving now.” Sunghoon says, turning to the blonde girl who was definitely about to be his fuck for the night.
She looks up at him, hope gleaming in her eyes, but frowns when he says he has to go.
“You’re so fucking lucky to have me, I actually just saved your ass.” Sunghoon mutters, “Maybe I should just email her..” Jake contemplates, saying his thoughts out loud, tapping his screen to see there's 2 hours and 48 minutes left on his phone.
“Okay noted, take away the computer too.” Sunghoon shakes his head, chuckling.
-
Holy fuck. Is all you could think of when Jake answers his front door, grey sweatpants, and black fucking compression shirt out of all things on. Hair tousled, slick with sweat.
You should have known coming to drop off Layla in the morning wasn't a good move, especially since Sunghoon's car was also in the driveway.
He chuckles at your reaction, like he knows something you don't. “Daddy!” Layla says, practically jumping into Jake's arms as if she wasn't falling asleep in the car a few minutes ago.
You tighten your grasp on her light pink backpack, Jake moves for you to step in, “You missed me Princess?” He asks in a gentle tone.
You walk to the open kitchen, but pause when you see Sunghoon, dressed in familiar attire to Jake, pouring what is probably a protein shake into two different cups.
He doesn't look up to know it's you. “Hoon!” Layla wiggles out of Jake's arms, running over to Sunghoon who just laughs at her, “Mommy, can I have the mermaid doll please!” She asks, looking up at you with those adorable brown eyes, the ones that look just like Jakes.
You can't help the smile that lights up your face before getting them from her bag. She giggles before looking up at Sunghoon who sets down his shake.
“Well Miss. Layla, im ready when you are” He says, taking the doll from her and going to the living room where Jake has her toys set up.
Jake lets a small laugh slip at the interaction. You bring your attention back to him, his eyes take in your clothes, from the business pants, to the blazer that fits you all too well.
“Okay, um– don't forget she has ballet lessons twice a week.” You bite your lip, trying to conceal how fucking nervous hes making you right now.
I mean, who even looks that good after the gym, gosh you shouldn't be thinking like this right now. Especially with everything–
“Y/n.”
“No.” You feel your heart racing as the word comes out, “I haven't even said–” He starts “Jake.”
“mama, please let me talk to you..” He closes the distance between the two of you, you try not to show a reaction at the name, the one he called you that night, the night you can't seem to forget.
You peak over his shoulder to see Sunghoon sitting on the ground with Layla, playing with the dolls. “Not here, not when she can hear.” You say quietly.
He nods, walking upstairs to his office, catching Sunghoon's eye, who just cocks a brow at him.
“Okay, what's so important.” You shut the door behind you, watching as he leans over his desk, back to you.
He turns to face you, "I'm sorry for the other night, calling you like that was immature of me and as Layla's father I shouldn't have–”
“Yeah, I know.” You interrupt, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I'm trying to apologize here y/n.” He sighs frustratingly, as if this is some chore or task he has to do.
“No, you’re trying to make yourself feel better.” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose in irritation, “You would think someone who was going to inherit a billion dollar company in the next year would know better, but no–”
“Im fucking trying here okay?!” He lowers his voice, trying to avoid getting into an argument loud enough for Layla to hear, even though the room is already noise cancelling.
“Thats the same shit ive heard since I was 13 years old y/n, its fucking drilled in my mind.” He steps closer to you, towering over your frame.
“Everything, planned, laid out, my whole future already decided the second I came out the womb.—So yes, I'm aware of what I inherit, I'm aware of the responsibilities I have.” You open your mouth to speak, but close it when nothing comes out.
He continues, “I know I fucked up–” He pauses, resisting the urge to pull you in, cling to you, because as of right now, even if you hate him you’re still the only thing he sees as an anchor in his life.
“—And not just the other night. In Italy, I shouldn't have, it was reckless and-”
“Jake.”
“-and stupid, you just- I couldn't resist you”
“Jake!” You cut through his words like a knife. The only sound in the room being your trembling voice, and his unsteady breath.
“Dont do this to me. Not right now.” You clench your fist to steady the way it shakes. “Y/n, please– you wont let me any other time besides when either one of us drops off Lay.”
“Because you’re her father Jake! That's all you are. It might say you’re my husband on paper, but you’re not. We dont owe eachother anything, and you made that very fucking clear 5 years ago.” You watch his eyebrows furrow in the way a lost puppy would, an almost pleading look in his eyes.
You bite your tongue, regretting the way the words came out. It takes everything in you to not crumble to the floor, right here in front of him.
Something shifts in his eyes, he takes a step back from you, distancing himself as much as he can in the confined space.
He doesn't look at you as he turns his back to you, leaning against his desk.
“You know the way out.” He says over his shoulder, tone cold. “Jake..” you whisper
“You know the way out.” he repeats more firmly. You watch him for a moment, before turning and walking out.
It takes everything in him to not take back his words, to beg you to come back for him to say sorry a thousand times if he has to.
-
That night, you still couldn't get the interaction out of your head, you don't know how many times you tossed and turned in your empty bed, the silence of the house unbearable.
Even throughout the week, it replayed. The look in his eyes, the shift in his face when he told you to get out.
You know he works hard, you know he is a good father. And you definitely know what it's like to have your life laid out for you.
So walking through the front doors of the company building wasn't exactly a part of the plan, but it's like your feet were carrying themselves.
The bright daylight shining through the completely glass walls, the city streets bustling outside as usual.
As you walked to the front desk, heads turned towards you, some whispering, some silently observing.
“Mrs. Sim?” You hear a familiar voice say, walking towards you, You don't have to look to know who it is.
“Park.” You say, turning to face him, leaning against the front counter. “What a surprise.” He can't hide the smug grin on his face as he approaches you. “Im here to see Jake.”
“Oh, you mean you’re not actually here just to see the office?” His tone is laced with sarcasm. You roll your eyes.
“I was just heading up there, come on.” He chuckles, “But I need to inform Mr.Sim–” The woman at the front desk starts, “Greta, baby, It's the Bosses wife we're talking about here.” You roll your eyes, “Don’t give us a hard time m’kay?” he says sweetly, winking down at her. You watch as she blushes, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear.
You follow after him, stepping into the elevator. “You’re actually disgusting." You cross your arms over your chest, glancing sideways at him.
“What? It's not my fault they can't resist my charm.” Sunghoon shrugs, adjusting his tie.
The elevator dings, signaling its reached the top floor, you look at him, but your eyes drop to the hint of color below the collar of his white button up.
Your brow raises, squinting to see the slightly red hue of it. “First door past the window.” He nods down the hallway, stepping out of the elevator.
You watch him for a split second, but he pauses when you call after him “Park.”
He turns to look at you, humming in response “You got a little something.” You say, pointing to his collar, he looks down, and you notice his frame immediately still.
You offer one of those too sweet smiles before making your way down the hall.
Your hand hovers over the door, before finally knocking. Jake assumes it's one of his assistants so naturally he says a steady “Come in.”, accent sharp and cutting through your train of thought.
You inhale once before opening the door. He doesn't look up until the door clicks shut behind you, and when he does, his face shifts.
“Y/n– what are you doing here?” He doesn't know why he stands, but he does anyway, hands braced on his desk, you look around his big office, the dark brown leather couch, to the tall bookshelves, and the window with a perfect view of everything 50 stories below.
You try not to stare too much.
“Um- well I just wanted to make sure you knew about Layla's ballet recital in a few weeks, they just sent the email out so.. Yeah.” You cringe slightly at the words, and with how obvious you are.
He raises a suspicious brow at you, “So you drove here, to the same building you haven't bothered visiting in 5 years, just to tell me something that was sent in my email.”
It's not a question. “Well- I.. you know,” He can't hide the small smirk that plays on his lips
“I–” You pause, trying to regain your composure. “I wanted to..apologize.” You watch his reaction, the curious tilt of his head.
“Apologize?” he rounds his desk, leaning against the front of it, arms still crossed over his chest, assessing you.
“For the other day.. In your study.” You try not to cringe at the memory, “And for Italy.” Something flashes over his face
“Y/n–” he starts “No. Let me finish.” He shuts his mouth immediately and you continue.
“I said some hurtful things that night, In the..shower.” You avoid his gaze “It was wrong for me to use you like that.” His tongue runs over his lips, remembering the taste of you that night.
“And then in your study, when you tried apologizing to me– I didn't mean to go off on you like that, and I know you’re trying, I know the pressure you feel, and with everything you said about your life being planned–”
He's watching you closely as you speak, not interrupting. “But God, Its so fucking hard to forget Jake. I try so hard, for Layla—You look at her with so much love. And then you look at me, like I'm a– task.. A chore?”
You question your choice of words. “And it hurts so fucking much.” You breath out, the words rough and vulnerable.
You blink back the tears threatening to pour out, his hands fall to his sides, and it's like his body moves before his mind can process it.
He closes the distance between the two of you, pulling you towards him , one hand wrapping around your back, the other cradling your head against his chest, resting on the top of your head.
“Jake..” You say through a trembling breath, hands clawed at his chest. “Shh mama, I got you.” he whispers, his thumb rubbing small circles on your back.
He pulls back, "I'm sorry too, I didn't mean to hurt you–I.. Fuck” He runs his hand through his hair, taking a step back to breath.
“You cloud every thought in my mind y/n. Every single day, every single hour, I can't stay mad at you for the life of me. Im—Im really not good at this..” he looks down at you, biting his lip nervously
“I don't think you understand how bad I regret how I treated you, How I made you feel.” He steps closer again, “I was– no I am an asshole. God, you have every right to hate me.” He chuckles but it's humorless
“Jake.. I don't hate you..” He meets your eyes at that, looking at you, really looking at you, the shared vulnerability between you two right now in this moment.
Your hand moves from your side, hesitating before cupping his face in your hand, he leans into the touch immediately, his eyes fluttering shut at the contact.
“I can't get you out of my head y/n.” He turns his head to press a gentle kiss to your palm, a small gasp leaving your lips at the intimacy of it.
“Im sorry, I know we have a lot to work on—but please..” He whispers, holding your hand in his, moving it to press a kiss to your wrist, just above your pulse point, feeling how rapidly your heart beats.
His eyes don't leave yours. “I'm sorry..” He whispers again, lower this time, trailing small kissing along your arm, those same words leaving his lips in between.
His other hand slips to your waist again, pulling you closer, He cups your face in his hand, threading his fingers through the back of your hair, shutting his eyes, leaning against your forehead.
“Im so fucking sorry.” he breathes out, ghosting over your lips, you tilt your head up slightly, letting your lips graze over his. “Baby..”
You close the distance between your mouths, lips pressed firmly against his, he pulls you closer, running his fingers through your hair more deeply, his other hand gripping your waist as if you were the only thing grounding him, your lips move together in a rhythm, his tongue runs along your bottom lip, begging for more access, you grant it and he groans into your mouth, eyebrows furrowing.
His tongue explores your mouth, tasting you. He pulls back, a string of saliva connecting between the two of you, “Please..” He begs, looking between both of your eyes, an almost pathetic look on his face.
You tilt your head “Please forgive me, y/n” He brings his hand down from out of your hair, gently rubbing small circles on your neck, tracing his thumb over your exposed collar bone, the touch electric. “I–”
A sharp knock on the door has you two pulling away from each other like you've been caught doing something you shouldn't.
“Mr. Sim, I just wanted to inform you we have an online meeting with Park Jongseong in five minutes” A shy voice says from the other side, he watches you, the way you stare at your feet, he tries not to smile at your clear nervousness.
“Have the notes ready, let them know I'm coming.” He says, voice back to that professional tone.
He leans down one more time, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead before opening the door to his office and walking down the hall to the meeting room.
Once the door shuts behind him, you bring your hand to your heart, the rapid beating of it pounding against your palm.
You trace your lips with your fingers, still trying to process what just happened, and what's going to happen..
Jake turns the corner of the hallway, to see Sunghoon, leaning against the wall, his eyes trace over Jake's form.
“What the hell happened to you?” Sunghoon says through a knowing smirk, “Dont.” Jake replies, straightening his tie and walking into the meeting room. Sunghoon raises his hands innocently, following after.
-
As soon as Jake got out of that meeting the first thing he did was pull out his phone, shutting his office door behind him, but pausing to inhale the faint smell of you, your sweet, sweet perfume and hair wash lingering in the air.
“Jaeyun?” His mother says into the phone curiously, “An important event came up, do you mind watching over Layla tonight?” He asks, knowing exactly what the answer will be, if anything he's surprised she didn't beg him to let Layla come over. His parents even have a room specifically for her on the rare occasion she go to their manor. “Yes!” she says eagerly, Jake chuckles, “Alright, I'll drop her off in a few.” He says briefly before hanging up.
The feeling of his lips still lingered on yours even hours later. The memory of them causing a warm feeling to pool in your belly.
You tried to distract yourself, you really did. But not even working could make you focus. Slipping on your soft robe, you shuffle around your house, eager to take a bath, maybe that would help ease the consistent throbbing in between your legs.
You were just about to untie it when a ring on your doorbell took you by surprise, you checked the time on your phone, 8:23..
You make your way downstairs, opening the door, freezing. “What are you..” You swallow, “What are you doing here?” a nervous excitement slipping through your tone.
Jake takes a step forward, eyes not leaving yours as he shuts the door behind him. “Where's Layla?”
“With my parents.” he replies, eyes trailing down your frame shamelessly, taking in the way your thin robe does nothing to conceal whats underneath. His tongue darts out for a split second, wetting his lips.
Your eyes fall to his attire, wearing the same dress pants he had on earlier, blazer gone, white button up rolled up his forearms. He chuckles at the way your eyes drag along his arms, bringing your attention back to his face.
“You still didn't answer me.” He tilts his head, studying you. “What are you doing here?” He takes another step forward, crowding you in the entrance of your home.
“You think after what happened today, I was going to just leave you alone?” His eyes drop to your lips.
“Well– I mean.. I didn't know you were going to just show up..” His eyes fall to the way you nervously play with the end of your robe.
“Mama, of course I did.” he brings his hand down over yours, stilling it so you could stop fidgeting.
“I wanted to see you.” He says confidently. He sighs, defeated, even though you haven't even said anything back. “wanted to touch you.”
His hand comes up, brushing his thumb softly along your cheek, you lean into it. “I want you–” He pauses, breathes–“I want you so bad.”
His eyes search yours before continuing “So bad that I can't fucking concentrate anymore, I can't think straight—“
“The idea of you not wanting me back–not loving me back, makes me sick.” You both freeze at the words, he opens his mouth to speak, closes it.
“I- fuck..” He pulls his hand away from your face, you stop it, placing yours above his. “I want you too, Jake.. I– I love you.” The second the words leave your mouth, something shifts in his face.
His other hand comes up to the other side of your face, holding you like you’re something precious.
“You don't know how long I've wanted- No, I've needed to hear that.” He tilts his head down, lips ghosting over yours, your lips part instantly
“I love you baby.” He whispers before pressing his lips to yours.
You immediately melt into the kiss, giving him access to your mouth, his hand cups the back of your neck, holding you closer.
He kicks off his shoes, lips never leaving yours, you wrap your arms around his neck as he guides you backwards, you stumble back slightly, his hand immediately wrapping around your waist, you giggle against his mouth, earning a laugh from him.
You gasp as he picks you up, wrapping your legs around his hips, his hands splayed on your ass. He makes his way up the stairs with you, carrying you with ease.
His lips crash against yours again, backing you up against the wall, you roll your hips in his hold, grinding against his hardening bulge in his pants.
“Fuck ma—you’re killing me..” He breathes, biting your bottom lip, a whimper escaping your lips at that.
“If I wasnt such a gentlemen, I’d fuck you right here, on your floor.” The dirty words have you grinding harder against him, he chuckles
“You’d like that huh?” You nod, a little bit too frantically, instead he walks further down the hall, in your bedroom, he kicks the door shut behind him, laying you down on the bed.
“No, I wanna take my time with you.” He presses a light kiss to your lips, savoring your taste. “Jake–please..” It comes out breathless.
“Please what?” he teases, hand coming up to wrap around your throat, not to hurt you, more to claim.
He trails it back down, to the loosely tied knot of your robe. “Want you to fuck me..” You plead, squirming.
He smiles at that, pulling the string of your robe, causing it to fall open limply, he sucks in a sharp breath at the sight of you, laid out for him like this, like his next fucking meal.
He peels it off your body, tossing it to the ground, leaving you bare. “So needy, hm?” He parts your legs, nearly groaning at the sight and smell of your slick pussy.
You whimper at the cold air nipping your skin. He brings his hand down, cupping your breast in his hand, kneading the soft flesh
“I love these tits so fucking much” He says almost to himself, rolling your nipple between his fingers, his other hand comes up, repeating the motion on your other, making sure no part of your body feels neglected.
He bites his lip at the delicious sounds leaving your lips, the pathetic light moans.
You expect him to undress next, but instead he kneels down, hitting the soft carpet, right between your spread legs, you prop yourself on your elbows, not wanting to miss a single moment of seeing him like this.
His eyes close, like he's already gone, licking a sensitive spot on your inner thigh, sucking on it gently, making sure to leave a mark.
Your mouth hangs open, letting soft moans leave your lips, he can't help the smirk that covers his face at how you’re not being shy with him.
He takes his time, leaving marks on your inner thigh, teasing you even more, while also making you even more wet.
His eyes lock on your glistening cunt, “This all for me?” He chuckles, earning a groan from you, he blows on your puffy clit, enjoying how your hole clenches around nothing, the way you’re already throbbing.
You whine at his teasing, “Shh mama, wanna make you feel good.” He uses his hands, pushing your thighs farther apart, giving him even more access.
Your eyes roll at the first lick, sensual, gathering your juices on his tongue, his eyes flutter shut at the taste of you, how fucking natural it is.
One second its slow licks, the next he's diving in, devouring you. His nose bumping your clit as his tounge works your hole, he looks up at you, your absolutely fucked out face before focusing back on your pussy. Your juices coating the bottom half of his face.
He brings his attention back to your clit, taking the sensitive bud between his lips and sucking with such precision it has your back arching off the bed, hands flying to his hair.
He groans at the feeling of you tugging on the strands, sending a vibration straight to your core. He flicks his tongue on your clit, rolling the sensitive bud with the wet muscle.
bringing one of his hands down from your leg, watching how your pussy reacts as he rubs small circles on your clit.
You watch as he gathers some spit in his mouth, spitting right on your aching clit.
“So pretty,” He says quietly, mixing the spit with your juices leaking out, He pulls you even closer, hands tightening around your thighs, mouth closing around your pussy, making out with it messily.
“Fuck..Jake–” You cry out, gripping the sheets at your sides, He looks up, watching the way your breasts move with each movement, making his cock throb in his pants even more.
He gives your hole a teasing lick, before plunging his tounge in, greedily fucking it in and out of you, he feels you clench around him. Burying his nose closer against your clit, applying the right pressure that has your hips bucking as you come on his face, you bite down on your lip, trying to conceal the moans leaving your mouth.
He greedily laps up everything you let out, your slick coats his chin, his mouth, the sheets beneath you, but he loves every second of it.
Your legs fall spread limply, he stands up, unbuttoning his shirt, and his pants, discarding his clothes like they're useless, which in this case–they are.
His eyes are trained on the reddish purple marks coating your inner thighs. “Jake..” You breathe out, watching the thin silver chain glint under the dim light.
He pauses, looking at you curiously, “You still have it?” you point to your neck, and his fingers touch the chain, “I never took it off baby.”
Your mind goes back to when you gave him that necklace, it was when you were pregnant, and you felt like you had to get him something for helping you out so much, even with the arrangement. He had told you he didn't need anything, but you insisted.
He shifts and your attention is immediately back on the present.
You watch him slide off his boxers, his cock springing out, hanging heavy, thick, veins prominent, similar to the ones coating his hands and forearms.
You let out a sound as your eyes lock on the bead of pre cum leaking out of his flushed pink tip. He leans down, lifting your hips to move you farther up the bed before climbing on top of you.
He strokes his cock, one, twice, the pre cum leaking down his length, Your hips buck up, chasing any form of friction you can.
“Hm, you’re so cute when you’re all needy.” He chuckles, nudging your sensitive clit with his tip, smearing his precum.
“Jake.” You meant for it to come out more firm, but it comes out with a whimper to it. “You want me to stuff you full mama?” He coons, tone playful.
He slaps his dick down once on your puffy folds, before guiding his tip to your entrance. He barely pushes the head of his cock in before letting out a choked groan, “Fuck, you’re tight.” He grunts, hands clasping around your hips, anchoring him.
“Breathe for me yeah?” He looks at your face, eyes leaving the delicious sight of you trying to adjust to his size.
You nod, attempting to ease yourself, he slides in some more, your pussy clamping around him tightly, he hisses at the feeling, so warm and wet.
“Loosen up for me mama..” He breathes out, thumb traveling down to apply pressure to your clit, he pushes in slowly, you moan when he bottoms out, his tip nudging that spongey spot inside you.
It takes everything in him to not come right now, like some fucking teenager.
“Fuck– you’re squeezing me–” He leans down, pressing a kiss to your jaw, before sliding out halfway, setting a slow pace that has his balls tightening.
His lips hover over yours as you both let out pleasureful sounds, “F-faster jake..” You manage to say,
“Knew you were greedy” He smirks, before you can say anything back he crashes his lips onto yours, rolling his hips, thrusting in and out of you, his balls slapping against you at every thrust, the wet sounds filling the room are filthy.
Your tounges tangle together as he fucks into you, hitting a spot you could never reach with your own fingers.
His other hand comes up to pinch your nipple, earning a shocked gasp from you, You clench around him, hole fluttering, greedily taking his cock, he presses harder on your clit, pinches your nipple, you thrash against him, moaning into his mouth as you reach your second orgasm of the night.
But he doesn't stop, instead he wraps his hand around you pulling you up so you're sitting on his dick facing him, he cups your ass in his hands, grinding you on him, you're pulsing around him, your nerves on fire with every drag of your clit against him.
You’re both slick with sweat, his hair sticking to his forehead, he's lost in the feeling of your pussy dragging on him, “You gonna let me fill you up mama?”
He grips your ass harder, delivering a smack, you let out a high pitched sound at that, “God, you would look so pretty–”
He lays you back down on your back, the vision already clear in his mind, you–belly swollen, carrying another one of his children, breasts full, so sensitive– He'd take such good care of you, giving you everything you deserve and more.
“Can I breed this pretty pussy mama? stuff you full?” He fucks into you deeper, your legs lock around him in response, He lets out a sound almost a whimper, arms wrapping around you in a bear hug as his hips move frantically in and out of you, he can feel the pressure building, and by the way you’re fluttering around him again, he knows you’re close too.
“I love you baby– fuck, I love you so much..” He groans into the crook of your neck, your hands claw at his back, grasping on his hair as he buries himself deep inside you, your pussy clamps tight, eyes rolling back as your juices leak out, his cum shoots into you, the warmness pooling in a way that has your legs shaking, He doesn't pull out all the way, but he fucks into you once more, hard, making sure none of his seed leaves your sweet hole.
You two stay like that, him inside you, hugging you with so much love it makes your heart flutter.
When he pulls out, he falls to your side, pulling you closely to him. You wrap your leg over his hip, and he nuzzles his face in between your breasts, causing a soft laugh to leave your lips.
“I love that sound,” he murmurs, “Hm?” You ask curiously, He lifts his head looking at you with so much adoration “Your laugh.” He whispers, pressing a kiss to your neck before wrapping his hands around your body, embracing you, savoring this moment, because if he could, he'd stay here forever.
— Bonus —
Jake is half asleep below you, one hand draped on your belly, your 6 month old baby growing healthily inside of you.
You try not to wince at the fabric of your shirt rubbing against your very sore nipples, but you fail miserably.
“Mmm..” He mumbles, feeling your body tense beside him, he opens his eyes slowly, looking up at you.
Worry flashes across his face at your pained state, he sits up immediately, "What's wrong? Are you okay mama?” His hand cups the side of your face, pressing his wrist to your forehead, checking your temperature
“Tell me what you need? Water?” His eyebrows furrow together, he runs a hand through his hair, his body flexing at the movement, you can't help your eyes from dragging down his frame, his bare chest, and his loose hanging sweatpants with no boxers underneath.
You tug at your shirt, “They hurt Jake–” You breath out, realisation flashes across his face, his eyes falling to your pebbled nipples poking through your shirt.
“Ah..I see,” He swallows, before moving to lift your shirt over your head, the fabric dragging along your breasts making you wince.
He tosses the shirt on the bed, memorized with how full your breasts are, how hard your nipples get, he cant help himself when his hands come up, weighing them.
“Fuck–you’re so beautiful,” His fingers graze over your nipples, making the already damp spot in your panties grow, You whimper at the touch “So sensitive baby..” He dips his head, tongue grazing lightly over the peak.
You let out a sharp moan at the feeling, the pleasure overtaking you. He watches your face, his tongue flicking over the bud before lifting his fingers, he presses them on your lip, your mouth opening on instinct, you wrap your lips around his fingers, wetting them, he pulls them out, circling your other nipple with them, spreading your saliva on it.
“So warm, and soft..” He massages one with his hand, it helps ease the tension, making your body relax more into his touch, he presses his nose against your breast gently, your warm skin making the bulge in his sweatpants strain even more.
His hand inches down, past your belly, dipping between your spread thighs, His mouth freezes over your nipple at the wetness already soaked through your loose shorts.
“Shit, you’re dripping–” He moves the shorts to the side along with your underwear, dragging two fingers through your wetness, making a soft gasp leave your lips
“M’ gonna make you feel good” He whispers, before both of his fingers slip inside of you, curling immediately.
The sounds coming from between your legs are so lewd, wet squelching every time he takes his fingers out, just to shove them back in, his palm grinding against your swollen clit as he hits that spongey spot deep inside you.
“Jake–ah..” You breath out, hands lifting to grasp his veiny arm, it's all so sudden, the way you clamp down on his fingers, the juices that flood out of your pussy soaking the sheets, He drags his fingers out, rubbing your sensitive clit with the two, spreading your slick all over.
“God– you’re pretty when you come on my fingers like that..” He brings the two digits to his mouth, sucking them clean, eyes not leaving yours, your mouth hangs open as he does so.
He glances down at your lips, plump from the biting you’ve been doing, before closing the distance, letting you taste your musky sweetness on his tongue that he loves so much.
You don't register it, but his hand inches back down your body, rubbing your pussy slowly, before he shoves three digits inside of you, your nails dig into his forearm at the stretch, gasping into his mouth
“Oh my gosh–” You moan out, his fingers repeating the curling motion, “Shh.. let me make you feel good.” He whispers, repeatedly hitting that sweet spot inside of you just right, his tongue flicks just under your ear, spiking your sensitivity even more.
A warm gush of liquid coats his hand, your eyes flutter shut as you squirt on his fingers, soaking the sheets beneath you even more.
He curls his fingers deeper, letting as much as he can seep out, the wetness coating your inner thighs gradually. He kisses your lips once more, before pulling his fingers out slowly, admiring the way they shine under the faint morning sunlight. His palm slaps against your sensitive pussy lightly in a teasing manner.
"I'm going to get the bath ready, we still have some time before I take Lay to school.” he kisses your cheek softly, standing up, bulge evidently clear in his sweatpants. “But what about–”
“Mama, I said to let me make you feel good, we can worry about this later, Okay?” He walks around the bed, opening the door to your shared bathroom.
Jake insisted on you relaxing in the bath, while he gently rubbed your skin with your vanilla soap, but you had other plans, sneakily reaching behind you to stroke his aching cock until the only thing he could focus on was how good your hand felt around him while moaning softly into your neck.
After the bath he helped you get dressed, helped you down the stairs, making sure to set up the pillows so you were well supported before waking Layla up.
Once she was all dressed for school, her 2nd week of being a Kindergartner, she came running up to you, careful to not press against your baby bump.
“Mommy!” She smiles, you look at Jake's attempt of pigtails before chuckling, Layla reaches her small hand out, touching your stomach gently, as if she was petting a small puppy.
“You look pretty Lay,” She giggles, Jake walks back over, bowl of strawberries in hand with nutella drizzled on top, a craving he knows you love.
He presses a light kiss to your forehead before handing Layla her sparkly pink backpack. “Ready princess?” He asks, looking down at Layla, she nods, skipping past him, you and Jake both laugh at her eagerness.
“Ill be back in a bit” he says, pressing another kiss, this time to your covered baby bump, you can't help the blush that coats your face as he gives you that boyish smile.
Even when they both leave, shutting the door behind him, the warmness stays in your heart, Because this is even better than your dreams.
-
Yeah so I need Jake asap.
okay hope you guys enjoyed!
peep the Sunghoon plot building.. (hoping to start writing it soon after i finish some of my other wips👀)
There’s a guy on campus who girls go to for stress relief. Sleazy bastard, but he obviously knows what he’s doing. When everything becomes too stressful for you, you decide you wanna do the same. Just a one time thing. Meaningless sex.
You never banked on him getting attached to you.
wc: 7.6k
warnings: college au, physiotherapy student!jeonghan, medical student!reader, reader is an overthinker and tends to spiral, fuck boy!jeonghan, pussy drunk!jeonghan, smut, nsfw, multiple orgasms, oral (fem!receiving), fingering, semi (?) public sex, both of them are horny as fuck
masterlist
Some part of you wishes you had stayed illiterate all your life. It’s the same part that loathes the thought of early morning classes, endless labs, assignments and presentations. Clinic hours. Procedure logbooks. Fuck, it’s just neverending. At any given point in time, you have at least six different things going on, all of them top most priority. Which isn’t possible. The top most priority can only ever be one thing. That’s what the word ‘priority’ means. You can’t have six priorities, it isn’t possible-
“Do you have a copy of tomorrow’s case for discussion?” Jihyo sounds like she’s about ready to cry. Not surprising to you at all, because you’re the same right now. You blink at your laptop screen a few times, trying to get out of your own head. Long, rambling thoughts have always been your biggest vice. And you do it even more when you’re stressed.
You grab a sheet of paper on your bed next to you and lean over the side of it, meeting Jihyo halfway from her own bed.
“Thanks.” She mumbles, looking down at the sheet. She reads it over once, twice, then one more time, before her distraught eyes meet yours.
“What’s the diagnosis?”
You shrug.
Jihyo nearly wails, scratching at her head. “I can’t do this shit. God, I’m going to kill someone.”
You can’t even laugh. You’re too stuck on the presentation open on your own laptop, trying to make the font small enough to fit everything on it, but not so small that it can’t be seen. It’s proving to be way more difficult than you thought.
“Come on. We’re going to grab dinner.” She swings her legs over the bed, ignoring the many papers scattered around her as they wrinkle under the movement. You don’t even question it, clicking ‘Save’ on the presentation a comical number of times to make sure you won’t lose it, then following Jihyo’s footsteps.
It’s colder outside than you anticipated, but it still feels nice. The goosebumps on your skin wake you up a bit, which you desperately need after the fog you’ve been under for the last few hours. Realistically, you know that neither you nor Jihyo can afford to take time off. But enough is enough. You need a break, even if it means you will crash and burn tomorrow.
The campus dorms are separate from the actual university, located across the road from it and scattered over a large area. Every building is more wide than it is tall, only three stories but sprawling over a large area. Medicine, Dentistry, Nursing and Physiotherapy. The backbone of the future healthcare system. When you walk past the park, there’s a small bonfire going on, surrounded by many cheering students egging on three guys holding kegs.
Yup, backbone of the future healthcare system.
Right outside the gated walls of the dorms are many places to eat, catered especially for the thousands of students beside them. You and Jihyo are standing on the sidewalk, wondering what you are in the mood for eating, when a familiar face catches your eye.
“Can’t work either?” Mina smiles, giving you both hugs. Jihyo pouts and shakes her head.
“Do you know the diagnosis for tomorrow’s case?”
Their voices fade as they continue to talk, and you stare off into space. One half of your brain is wondering if you want pizza or something Chinese. The other part is contemplating cutting some info from your presentation so you can fit it on the slide. Someone nudges you, and when you blink back to the present, both Jihyo and Mina are looking at you.
“What’s up with you?” Mina asks.
“Nothing.” You reply almost automatically.
Jihyo huffs and rolls her eyes. “She’s been like this for days, just checking out.”
Mina frowns. “That’s not like you at all.”
“Sorry.” You sigh. “I’m just stressed.”
“You need to take more breaks.”
“Doesn’t help.” Jihyo has her arms crossed and she’s shaking her head. “She’s still thinking of work. I guarantee you she’s thinking about that presentation she has due tomorrow. Aren’t you?”
Caught red handed. You feel your face grow warm and you pout. “…… No.”
Jihyo snorts and Mina laughs a little. You sigh defeatedly.
“Can we just eat?”
The three of you end up at the first place you can see, a small diner where you order burgers, fries and milkshakes. Any food that’s greasy enough to take your mind off the mountains of stuff you have left unfinished. Mina watches you closely as you stare out the window.
“You need to relieve stress.” She says. You hum noncommittally.
“Thanks for the suggestion. I never would’ve known I had to do that.”
Jihyo snorts and elbows you. Mina doesn’t seem fazed.
“I have a solution, but I don’t think our goody little princess will take it.”
That gets your attention. You’ve always hated being perceived as that. Sure, you’re mostly a homebody. You don’t like attending parties too much unless you know a lot of people there, which is almost never. You like spending most of your time in front of a screen, and you’re not very athletic either. You haven’t had anything remotely romantic since university started, even though all your friends have indulged in hookups. And because of all this, since the start of university, you’ve been branded as the kind of risk averse girl who doesn’t really enjoy anything fun. You know it’s all in jest. Your friends love you very much. But it still irritates you.
“What is it?” You ask. You know she’s baiting you, but you want to know anyway.
“There’s this guy in DPT,” she begins, “Totally flaky. Kind of full of himself. But he’s amazing in bed.”
Jihyo’s already in a fit of giggles. She obviously knows who Mina is talking about. You frown.
“Okay. So?”
Mina leans forward, her elbows on the table. “He jokingly put an ad up on the university Facebook group a while ago. Offering….. services…… to any girl that’s interested. It got taken down almost immediately but apparently it actually became a thing, because I’ve heard a lot of girls say he’s always down to hook up as stress relief if you ask.”
By this point, your mouth has dropped open in shock and a small amount of disgust. Both Jihyo and Mina have stupid grins on their faces.
“So he’s a glorified prostitute.”
Mina gasps “He is not! He’s a good guy, actually. A little sleazy but, aren’t all college guys like that? Also, it’s not like he’s asking for payment.”
You gawk at her. “Oh my god, you too?”
She holds her hands up in defense. “Anatomy was really difficult last year, okay?”
You groan and lean down, forehead hitting the table with a dull thunk. Jihyo laughs.
“Thank you for the suggestion.” You give Mina a withering look. “But I’m fine.”
Mina shrugs. “I’m just saying, he's really good. And he’d probably blow your virgin mind.”
Your face flames. “I’m not a virgin.”
“Eight second sex doesn’t count.”
Jihyo is nearly doubled over, face red with laughter. You thank every god in the universe when your food finally arrives.
Mina is wrong, objectively. You aren’t a virgin. In fact, you had a boyfriend in high school. You took each other’s virginities. Of course he came in eight seconds, it was his first time. The fact that you never had sex again and he broke up with you a month afterwards didn’t change anything. You are not a virgin.
No one says anything to you after that day, but the thought annoyingly lingers. You cannot believe a guy would just do that. And even more shocking that girls would agree to hook up with someone who has a reputation like that. Another notion plagues you: how good is he in bed to even have all these girls keep coming to him?
Fuck. These are dangerous thoughts. Especially for someone like you, who can spiral in your mind so easily. And almost like sugar on top, with every passing day, work keeps ramping up. You retreat farther and farther in your mind, thoughts racing and contorting from one shape to another, taking up lives of their own, and before you know it, you’re wondering. What if you were to hook up with this guy too?
In every sense of the word, you are stressed. You don’t know what he does, but it clearly works. Maybe you can take just one night and instead of stuffing your face with greasy food as an outlet, you can have sex. It sounds like an intriguing option.
Maybe it will shut your friends up about you being a prude.
Tracking DPT people isn’t easy as someone in Medicine, and especially as someone in Medicine who doesn’t know more than four people and would rather set herself on fire than talk to new faces. Luckily, those four friends of yours are insanely well connected. There’s no way in hell you’re asking Mina. You won’t give her that satisfaction. So when you call Mingyu about what Mina told you, he has a name for you immediately.
“Yoon Jeonghan.” He says over the phone. Behind him, you can hear a lot of talking and laughing. He’s likely at a party. On a weekday. Figures. “Really cool guy. I’ll send you his number.”
“That would be great.” You reply.
“Y/N, are you sure about this?”
You immediately go rigid. “Why? Is he suspicious?”
There’s a small silence before Mingyu snorts. “You know what, this is good. You need this. Desperately.”
You don’t like his implication, so you just hang up. He sends you Jeonghan’s number mere minutes later, and you reply with a middle finger emoji. He only sends you kissy faces back.
Once you click on Jeonghan’s number and stare at the blank text box, you’re at a loss. What do you even say to him? How do these things go? You really don’t want to ask Mingyu again. He already thinks you’re a loser (affectionately).
You end up sending a small text introducing yourself and telling him which department you are from. He replies around ten minutes later.
[yoon jeonghan]: what can I do for you?
Now you’re at a true loss. What do you say? You type and erase, type and erase for many agonising minutes. Then, another text comes up.
[yoon jeonghan]: im in B wing. DPT. last door on the second floor.
You blink a few times, staring at his text. Fuck, he knows. You feel a little embarrassed, but you think this is more of a reflection of him than it is of you, so you just shut your phone and scramble to get dressed.
Half an hour later, you’re climbing the steps of an unfamiliar building across campus, feeling nervous and jumpy. Your eyes dart around your new surroundings rapidly, but no one is really wandering around. It’s a weekday, so there’s not much activity. The corridors are easy enough to navigate, and you find the room at the end of the hallway very quickly. You shake your hands out, breaths coming irregularly. This is so out of left field for you, and half your mind can’t even process that you would do something so impulsive. You’re not this person at all. But what can you say? Medical school hath changed you.
You knock on the door so quietly that you immediately wonder if you should knock again. He probably didn’t hear it. You’re just thinking of doing it again when the door swings open, catching you off guard. You freeze.
He’s tall, and kind of skinny looking in his oversized t-shirt. But he has this gorgeous, jet black hair that falls down the sides of his face in effortless waves. Hell, it looks even better than your hair freshly out of the salon. He has pretty, almond eyes, a thin nose bridge, and lips so plump that you immediately wonder what they would feel like.
Okay. You get the appeal now.
“You must be Y/N.”
Your head jerks with a nod. “Jeonghan?”
He smiles, and it nearly takes your breath away. God, he’s painfully attractive. He looks you up and down in a way that makes you want to turn around and book it immediately.
“In the flesh. Come in, sweetheart.”
You can feel the back of your neck burn hot at the petname. No one has ever called you that. You step in hesitantly, looking around. It’s a cubicle, with a single bed, a desk, and a wardrobe. Lucky him, he doesn’t have to share with a roommate. You don’t know anyone in the Medicine building who has a single room. Damn physiotherapy people and their many perks.
It’s surprisingly neat. There’s a gaming setup on the desk, a lot of wires, but they’re all stacked neatly. There’s a few books on the side tables and on the floor next to the desk. The bed is made. There’s some posters on the walls. The room has a lot of character. It catches you a little off guard. You don’t know what you were expecting. Maybe a shady dungeon with chains and a mattress as hard as stone.
Jeonghan watches you expectantly. You fidget.
“I- I heard… I mean, someone told me. About- about you.”
He hums, and you can see the amusement on his face, the corner of his lip ticked up just a little bit. You wish the ground could swallow you whole. He huffs out a laugh.
“Should’ve known you’d be shy. You couldn’t even say it over text.”
Your face burns more. You avoid his eyes. When he walks closer, your heart races. You nearly jump away in shock when he leans down, nosing at your hair, brushing over your neck.
“Should we loosen you up a bit?”
Your heart is beating so fast it makes you a little dizzy. He smells really good up close. Fragrant aftershave and something like pine. Your mouth drops open when his lips press to the skin below your ear.
“Yes?” He whispers.
“Yes.” You breathe.
Your consent is all he needs, large hands brushing over your hips before moving up to grip your sides. He presses more kisses over your neck, then up your jaw. Something twinges in your lower stomach, making your insides clench. Your heart is pounding so loud you are scared he will feel it through your rib cage. He keeps traveling up, until his lips brush the corner of your mouth. You turn your head with an instinct that surprises even you, and he hums in approval.
That first kiss makes your knees buckle. Luckily, his hands are giving you enough support to keep you from collapsing. It’s languid, like he’s taking his time with you, and yes, his lips are just as soft as you imagined. His nose nudges yours, making you tilt your head and deepen the kiss. You can’t help your moan, hands fisting his shirt. You can feel his smile on your lips.
When he pulls away, you have to blink furiously to compose yourself. He watches you closely, like he’s trying to figure you out. But you should be the one doing that, if your brain wasn’t completely scrambled right now. You need him to kiss you again, so you lean up on your tiptoes towards him. He chuckles.
The second kiss is even more charged, though you didn’t think that was possible. His tongue comes out to play this time, and you arch into him at the feeling. His hands have become more daring too, exploring your body. He squeezes your ass a little, digs into the plush of your hips. He fiddles with your shirt until he’s coaxing you to put your arms up, pulling it off you. You feel shy suddenly, but he doesn’t seem to notice, going back to kissing you, and his lips wipe away any hesitation that you might have.
He plays with the clasp of your bra a bit, running his fingers over the straps. It sends shivers up your spine. He finally undoes it and pulls it off. He disconnects your lips enough to look down at your chest, whistling low.
“Pretty.” He says. You flush hard, tugging at his own shirt.
When Jeonghan pulls it off, you’re a little surprised. He’s not nearly as skinny as he looks when he’s swimming in his loose clothes. He’s lean, nicely carved muscle, just enough meat on him to feel good when your hands begin exploring. He lets you, doesn’t even flinch when you run your fingers over his abs. Your eyes dart further down, and you can see his erection over his sweatpants. You bite your lip.
“How do you want me, pretty?” He asks, lips running lazily over your shoulder. You flush.
“I- I don’t know.”
He pulls away at that a little, looking at you curiously. “You have done this before, right?”
You scowl. “Of course I have!”
“Okay.” He placates you, hands running up and down your bare sides. “So how do you want it? I can eat you out. Or do you just wanna fuck?”
Well, shit. You didn’t expect him to say all that. You’re caught off guard by how vulgar his words are, by how hot he sounds talking like this. Like it’s nothing. Fuck, you’ve never been eaten out before. Are you even ready for something like that? But then again, from what you can see as you look nervously down at his bulge, he’s not exactly small. Mina was right. Eight second sex really doesn’t count. There’s no way you can take all of this.
Jeonghan laughs lightly as he follows your gaze before humming and nodding. He goes back to kissing your shoulder and neck.
“I’ve got you. Just relax.”
That’s exactly what you’re struggling to do, but you don’t tell him that. He walks you both backward until you’re pushing yourself up the mattress to the head of the bed, him on top of you. His fingers curl into the waistband of your jeans and panties before pulling both of them down in one go. You flush at the thought of being completely naked now, his eyes running over you. There’s a heat in them that you didn’t expect, but welcome it regardless. It really does look like he wants you. You don’t know how much of it is an act, or if he really thinks you’re worth looking at like this.
He kisses over your ankle before traveling up slowly, laying his lips on your skin every few beats until he reaches the apex of your thighs. This is entirely new territory for you. Even the thought of a guy down there is mortifying, so yes, maybe your friends aren’t too far off in their assumptions of you. It’s so hot in theory, but here, now, in practice, you’re so nervous it makes every muscle in your body stiffen. Maybe this it too-
You yelp when you feel it, his lips brushing over your slit. Jeonghan is taken aback, pulling away and blinking up at you from between your legs. It’s a strange sight, strange enough to knock you out of your thoughts. He breathes out a laugh.
“Either you’re very distracted, or you really haven’t done this before.”
You peer down at him, held up by your elbows so you can look properly. You hesitate before sighing.
“I haven’t.” You mumble, but you’re quick to clarify. “I didn’t lie. I’ve- I’ve had sex. But no one’s ever….. I’ve never had-”
“Well that’s a shame.” Jeonghan mumbles. He runs his hands over your inner thighs, slow strokes that loosen your muscles a little bit. He thumbs at your outer lips and you flush deeply, but it’s nothing compared to what he says next.
“Anyone who got close enough to have sex with you but didn’t eat out your pretty pussy must’ve been a real asshole.”
He kisses your folds, sucking on them a little. Your mouth drops and your elbows give out, back hitting the mattress. God, this is way hotter than it needs to be. He’s probably just saying all this to make you relax a little and get it over with. You feel something hot, wet and alive run over your lips again before dipping inside, lazily licking over where you’re most sensitive. He tongues at your clit until you let out your first moan. His grip on your thighs, holding you open, tightens.
“That’s it.” He whispers. “Just relax.”
Never in a million years did you think head would feel this good, but Jeonghan shatters all your illusions. He’s so meticulous, discovering parts of you that you didn’t even know could feel good when stimulated. He has no shame about it either. He moans into you when you try to close your legs around his head, or when your fingers thread through his hair. His tongue dips inside you too, swirling, before pulling out and licking upward so he can suck on your clit some more. You get close to your high embarrassingly quickly, and you’re nearly crying when you warn him about it. He only keeps going, consistent in his pace, until you’re jerking and shuddering, cumming hard in his mouth. He doesn’t slow until you’re desperately pushing him away, overstimulated.
“Fuck.” His voice is raspy, ragged. His face is drenched. You can see, even through your teary vision, that his pupils are dilated. “That was so hot, the way you came on my tongue.”
You flush, not knowing what to say. You’re still trying to catch your breath. You jerk back when Jeonghan’s thumb runs over your abused clit. He smirks.
“You gotta do that again for me, pretty. I need to feel that again. On my fingers this time.”
He’s leaning over you before you can even process his words. He presses his forehead to yours, and you feel something prod at your entrance.
“Oh, fuck.” You arch when a solitary finger slips inside you. You’re definitely wet enough, between your orgasm and his spit, so there’s next to no resistance. Jeonghan watches you closely, too closely. You try to turn your head, feeling shy, and he only chuckles, curling his finger inside you. You shriek when something zips through your core.
“Found it.” He grins. It’s so sleazy but so hot. God, is this why your girls are lining up for him?
He sinks another finger inside you before curling it up to the same spot, and this time, you see stars. You writhe and tremble under him, feeling so full with just this. He fucks the soul out of you with his fingers, moving rapidly while his thumb rubs over your clit. The noises turn wetter, sloppier, and Jeonghan bites his bottom lip as he watches you fall apart under him.
Your second orgasm is quicker but even more intense, leaving you near speechless. You can’t even make a sound, mouth open in a silent cry as you feel blood rush roar in your ears. You seize and shudder so much it feels almost animalistic. He doesn’t seem to mind at all.
“Jeonghan.” You weep, grabbing his wrist when it’s too much. Well, it was too much from the minute he put his mouth on you, but two orgasms in, you genuinely feel like you’re about to faint.
“My name sounds so sweet from your lips, pretty.” He says. He keeps calling you that, and it makes your heart race a little. You just turn your head to the side. You’re too bashful to even look at him. He lays a soft kiss on your cheek.
“You want more?”
The thought of more makes your heartbeat pick up again. You turn back to him a little, nose nudging against his. He knows he has your attention. He smirks.
“Come on, tell me. You want my cock?”
Your pussy clenches. You bite your lower lip. Jeonghan thumbs at it, releasing it from your teeth. You nod timidly. He chuckles again.
“Gotta do better than that, pretty. Ask for it like a good girl.”
The thought of saying it out loud lights your face on fire. Your hands fist the sheets, and you feel so nervous. Jeonghan watches you closely in that unnerving way of his. Then, he pushes down, and you feel his hard on press into your cunt, right between your spread legs. Your jaw goes slack.
He wastes no time in slipping his tongue into your mouth. It’s messy and filthy, all tongues and teeth, and he grinds slowly into you, over and over. He’s hard as a rock, throbbing even through the thin material of his pants. You clench pathetically around nothing. You can’t take it anymore.
“Want your cock.” You whine into his mouth. “Please fuck me.”
Jeonghan giggles, honest to god giggles, into the kiss. “So polite. How can I say no?”
When he finally shucks off his pants, your head spins a bit. He’s way bigger than your ex, longer, and he curves just at the tip in a way that you know will feel so good when he slides into you. There’s a large, pulsing vein running up the underside that makes your mouth water a little bit. Never before have you felt the urge to suck a dick until now.
A lot of firsts happening today.
Jeonghan’s eyes are locked on yours as he pumps himself, long fingers wrapped gracefully around his shaft. You watch him with a look of fascination that amuses him, you can see it on his face. He dips his fingers inside you again and you jerk a little. When he pulls out, they’re wet and sticky. He runs them over his cock. You’re shell shocked at his brazen action, and he smirks. Is he just doing all this to see how far he can push you?
When he finally sinks into you, every single thought in your head goes blank. All that incessant thinking and worrying for so many months becomes muted until there’s nothing but static, and the beat of your own heart. You can’t process it, can barely breathe through it. He stretches you like he’s carving a path for himself, dragging over your walls. By the time he sinks all the way to the base, you feel like you can feel him in your throat.
“Holy shit.” He curses, and you see his face crumple in real time, the first sign of his composure breaking. You can’t even moan. You have no air in your lungs.
“You sure you’re not a virgin, pretty? So tight, squeezing the life out of me.” His voice cracks at the end, and he bites his bottom lip hard.
“Move.” You manage to gasp out, hips jerking. He chuckles.
“Hold on. I don’t wanna cum too quick.”
Now that gives you PTSD. Jeonghan takes a few deep breaths, his chest rising and falling. He toys with your clit, like he’s trying to get you to relax around him a bit. Finally, he pulls out and thrusts back in, hard. Any air you may have finally breathed, he knocks right back out.
He sets a fast pace from the start, thrusts hard and deep inside you. You barely have the chance to miss him before the head of is dick is pressing into your sweet spot again, stroking it with even more force than his fingers previously had. You feel so full, like you’re ready to explode just from the force of the pounding you’re taking. You claw at the sheets, and when that isn’t enough, you claw at his arms that frame both sides of your head. His eyes move between your face and your pussy, watching you swallow him greedily, over and over again.
“Jesus, where have you been hiding?” He chokes out. “Can’t believe I missed out on this cunt for so long.”
“God.” You whine, eyes teary. “Don’t stop.”
He shakes his head and grins. “Wouldn’t dream of it, baby. Not until I milk all that stress out of you.”
Frankly, you can’t even remember what you were stressed about. You can barely string two words together except a mantra of Jeonghan’s name over and over. Your orgasm is no surprise, body locking and cumming hard around him, walls fluttering desperately as you cry and gasp through it. Jeonghan groans long and low, eyes squeezing shut before his thrusts turn sloppy. It takes a few more hard slams of his pelvis into yours before he’s pulling out and shooting ropes of his cum all over your stomach. He pumps himself through it, breathing hard, and you can see his shoulders shake, glistening with sweat.
What a sight.
The come down is dizzying. Jeonghan pulls his clothes on quickly before he grabs a towel and leaves the room, coming back with it wet enough for you to wipe yourself with it. You feel awkward as you dress yourself again. Jeonghan flops down on the bed with a tired sigh. You shift on your feet when you’re done.
“I’ll- I’ll go.”
A slow smile spreads on his face. “Don’t get all shy on me now.”
You shake your head and frown. “I’m not. I just don’t know what to say.”
He laughs, nodding. Just before you turn to leave, he gives you a wink.
“Text me any time.”
…………………………………….
Jeonghan’s stress relief programme works wonders for you.
You spend the next week practically buzzing. Your body is a little sore, not enough to actually notice, but enough to keep you alert. The night you come back from his room, you manage to crank out every assignment due in the week because you’re so desperate to not let your mind wander to what you just did. The next day, you get started on work from the coming week. Jihyo is so surprised when she asks you for help and you send her notes that are neat and well compiled.
“Are you taking something?” She narrows her eyes at you. “Ritalin?”
You roll your eyes. “Just say thank you.”
She grumbles out a ‘thanks’. You can’t tell her about Jeonghan. You just don’t have it in you to share that. Your night with him was beyond anything you had experienced before. You know it was casual. You’re sure you would never see him again. So you dont want to make it a big deal by talking about it.
Except, you run into him organically soon after this.
A week and a half later, on a Friday night, you are lounging in bed with a textbook. You’re almost caught up with work, enough that you can take a breather and do some light reading instead. Unfortunately, this gives Jihyo the perfect opportunity to drag you out of the room, claiming you have no excuse to stay home because you don’t have anything due. Dammit.
The party you end up at is outside the dorms at a house a few blocks away. You can’t tell who threw it, but there are a lot of Med and DPT people there. When you see Mingyu standing in the center of the room chugging a bottle, you roll your eyes.
“When does he even get time to study?” You mumble when Jihyo shoves a red cup in your hands. You sniff it and make a face. Disgusting.
“Dunno. But he manages just fine, so don’t worry about him. In fact, you need to shut your brain off for once.”
Before you can reply, she’s throwing her drink back and grabbing another, leading you farther into the room. Mingyu spots you two quickly, and it’s all chaos from there. He knows almost everyone, and he introduces you to people at lightning speed. You won’t remember any of them, but you just nod and smile along. When he reaches the couches in the living room, your heart skips.
“You know Jeonghan.” Mingyu grins, arm around your shoulder shaking you teasingly.
The man in question is sprawled over one corner of the long couch, and his eyes find yours almost immediately. He looks stunning even in the dim light. His hair is half up and half down, some of it falling over his eyes. He’s dressed in all black, and his leather jacket makes him look dangerously inviting. His eyes run over you in a way that makes you shiver. You should’ve worn something warmer. A crop top and skirt were not the way to go.
“What do you mean she knows him?” Jihyo frowns. You stiffen.
“He means I know of him. From what Mina told me.” You lie smoothly. Mingyu squeezes you a little in apology. Obviously he didn’t know you were keeping it a secret.
Jihyo really isn’t in the mood to slow down, because she throws back any alcohol she can get her hands on. This forces you to remain sober so you can take her back when the time is right. You’re so busy with her that you manage to steer clear of Jeonghan. The whole place is too loud, too overstimulating, that you have no time to think about him. Hours later, you’re tired and more than a little cranky when you finally manage to drag Jihyo out of the house. She’s stumbling a little, giggling at something completely normal that she finds exceedingly funny. You huff. How the hell are you going to do this?
“I have a car.” You hear a familiar voice. You don’t expect to see Jeonghan. You hadn’t seen him all night except at the very beginning, so you assumed he left, probably with someone else. But he’s here now, hands buried in the pockets of his dark jeans. You are half inclined to say no, but just the thought of taking Jihyo back like this is enough to make you cry, so you simply nod.
Jeonghan brings the car around and helps you put Jihyo in the backseat, where she promptly falls asleep. You sit in the front with him, and you feel awkward all over again.
“You didn’t text me, pretty.” He says. You forgot how the nickname makes your face flush.
“I didn’t think you were serious.” You mumble. Jeonghan looks confused.
“About what?”
You sigh, hesitating a little. “I’m not really….. a casual hookup person. So I think it’s best if we stay away from each other.”
Jeonghan chuckles. “Damn, I’m getting broken up with.”
You try to shake your head but Jeonghan just brushes it off. He’s clearly joking. And it’s not like this means anything. So you don’t say anything more, hoping the uncomfortable air dissipates a bit. Thankfully, you aren’t far from the dorms at all. Jeonghan parks in front of Med and offers to help you take Jihyo up. You can’t say no even if you want to, since she’s fully dead weight now.
He’s great support in dragging her to the room. In fact, he does most of the heavy lifting, which you are grateful for. You dump Jihyo on her bed, pulling her shoes off and covering her with a blanket. She doesn’t as much as flinch. You straighten a little, sighing.
“Thank you.” You smile at him. He shrugs it off. You walk him to the door. When he puts his hand on the knob, he pauses.
“So, we’re really over?”
You blink, surprised. “We were never really a thing.”
“I know.” He hums, watching you with heated eyes. “But it was fun. Shame that it’s ending before it even properly began.”
You fidget a little, staring at your hands. Jeonghan steps closer, his fingers find your chin, tilting your head up.
“Can I get a goodnight kiss?”
You consider it a little before nodding. “Okay.”
One kiss won’t hurt. Except it’s not one kiss. Jeonghan deepens it the second your lips meet his. His hands run over your hips, over the sliver of skin between your skirt and your tiny top. You shiver, hands squeezing his biceps. His tongue slides into your mouth and you moan. The same heady feeling from that night comes back, the one that leaves you dumb and brainless with him. His tongue runs hungrily over yours. You clench around nothing.
“W-we should stop.” You manage to whimper into his mouth. He moans.
“Neither of us want that.”
He crowds you into the wall until you’re pressed between it and his chest. He kisses you harder, deeper, and you feel like you’re high on him, all consumed by him. He smells so fucking good it makes your head spin. Your fingers bury themselves in his hair and you tug harshly, and he seems to like that, because he groans into your mouth.
“You had to wear the tiniest little skirt, didn’t you?” He bites your bottom lip. “Wanted to bend you over right in the middle of that house.”
“You-” Your breath stutters. “You can’t say stuff like that.”
“Why?” Jeonghan pulls back enough to lick down your jaw and nibble at your neck. You arch into him. “Does it turn you on?”
You don’t want to tell him that yes, it does turn you on. The raw need he says he has for you is so foreign, but so welcome. Before you can say anything, Jeonghan pulls off your neck and sinks to his knees.
You gape at him, shocked. His hands are urgent, pushing your skirt up and hooking a hand under your knee so he can hook it over his shoulder.
“Jeonghan!” You hiss, but you can’t say a thing further. Your hand flies up to clamp over your mouth when he runs his tongue over your clothed core. He wastes no time in pulling your panties aside and tonguing right at your slit, finding your clit immediately to suck on it.
It’s so much all at once, an assault on the senses. You tremble, nearly losing your balance if it weren’t for Jeonghan’s hands holding you tight to him. He chases after you with his mouth when you try to jerk away. He laps at you like he’s starved for your taste. It feels so good that you can’t decide if you want to pull away (Jihyo is right there) or if him eating you out like this is a thrill you want to lean into. It feels so dirty, so all consuming. You buck into his mouth and his resulting moan is depraved. Your orgasm is fast approaching. You can’t stop it even if you try.
“Fuck, Jeong- Jeonghan-…. Hannie.”
You have to bite your hand to keep from crying out, your high tearing through you with the force of a car crash. You shake and shudder over him, his hands holding you up with a strength that surprises you. He doesn’t stop until you’re whining and pushing his head away, cleaning you up until you can feel his spit cooling on your skin.
He lets your leg down gently, soothing a hand over it and laying a kiss on your thigh before standing up. His hair is no longer tied up, messy around his head. He is soaked down his chin and to the column of his throat. Your cheeks flame, breaths still coming heavy. He lays a kiss on the heated skin.
“Thanks for the meal.”
You can’t even say anything before he’s kissing you one last time and quickly leaving. You blink harshly, wondering what the fuck just happened.
You find his hair tie on the floor the next morning.
………………………………..
You can’t stay away from Yoon Jeonghan. You tried once, and it ended with him on his knees in front of you, making you cum on his face. Since then, you’ve forgotten the amount of times he’s made you cum. On his tongue, on his fingers, and most gloriously, on his cock. He’s made you feel things you genuinely didn’t think were possible. He whispers into your ear such filthy words that you have a hard time even processing them. Says he’s ‘pussy drunk’. That he can’t live without his fill of you. So he finds you, once or twice a week, and he drags you back to his room because it guarantees privacy. Or he fucks you on your own bed when you know Jihyo is out for the night. Either way, he’s around you a lot more than you ever expected him to be.
Jeonghan is whip smart. You deduced that he was witty a long time ago, but he is a rare combination of book smart and street smart that you didn’t know even existed. You both have the same anatomy course, so you study together sometimes. Of course, he’s horny all throughout it, but if you make it interesting, he is more than willing to participate. His favourite is when you strip off one piece of clothing with every question he gets right. It always ends with sex, because everything with Jeonghan ends with sex, but it feels more charged like this, when he’s talking and laughing with you, that sweet little twinkle in his eyes that makes your heart race.
Jeonghan has an unhealthy obsession with fast food, which works out great for you since stress makes you crave greasy food too. You will often find yourselves in some fast food place outside campus, usually spicy fried chicken, late at night between studying and making assignments. He isn’t a big drinker, and neither are you, but you like sharing a beer with him sometimes. Jeonghan is just so comfortable in his own skin. He has no guilt or shame about anything he does, or any choice he has made. It contrasts with you, who always has ten different things playing in your head at one time, doubting, analysing, restructuring. He’s perceptive. He can tell when you’re about to spiral, letting out a disapproving little tut before tapping your forehead.
“Don’t fly away and leave me here alone.”
He says weird stuff like that.
It means nothing. It can’t. Jeonghan is notoriously a fuck boy. Everyone knows it. Hell, he advertised it in the university Facebook group once. What more is there to say? He likes sex, you like sex. You give it to each other. That’s it. Getting closer to him like this is the natural consequence of spending time together. There’s no deeper meaning here. But then you hear something, a floating rumor, and you almost can’t believe it.
“Didn’t know he was being picky.” Some girl who was having lunch on the same table as you said. You’re sure Mina told you her name when she introduced you guys, but you were, once again, lost deep in thought. You didn’t catch it. “He’s never rejected me before.”
Mina rolls her eyes. “He’s never rejected anyone before.”
“Miyoung says he hasn’t hooked up with any of her friends either. He’s been ignoring everyone’s calls or messages.”
You’re rock still as you stare at your plate. This can’t be true. You and Jeonghan are just…… messing around. Relieving stress. It’s not anything more. Before you can think, you’re pulling your phone out to text him.
[me]: where are you
The reply is instant.
[hannie]: dorm. u coming?
You reply with an affirmative, and half an hour later, you’re knocking on his door. He opens it with a lazy smile, hair tousled and shirt wrinkled. It seems he was still in bed. You’re mad at yourself that he looks even more attractive to you like this.
“Hi, pretty.” He hums, pulling you in and shutting the door, planting a kiss on your neck. He wraps his arms around you, hands already wandering under your shirt. You huff.
“I heard a rumor.”
“Hm?” He seems distracted, fingers dipping just a little in the waistband of your jeans. You plough forward.
“Some girls complaining that you have been dodging their calls.”
He snorts into your neck. His teeth dig teasingly into your skin. You push at his stomach a little, trying to put distance between you two.
“Jeonghan, are you only sleeping with me?”
He pulls off your neck briefly, but lays a kiss on your jaw instead. “Yeah.”
Now you really push him away. He takes the hint and detaches, but he looks confused.
“Why? Why aren’t you sleeping with other girls?”
His face twists into something more amused. “You know, it’s usually the other way around. Girls are mad when their boyfriends are sleeping with other girls.”
Your heart stutters at the statement. “You’re not my boyfriend.”
He pouts. “Hurtful. Are you sleeping with other guys?”
You balk at him. “No!”
“So you’re only sleeping with me, and I’m only sleeping with you.” He hums, looking thoughtful. He’s clearly being unserious. You don’t appreciate it. “Some people might say that we’re…… exclusive?”
“We’re not dating.” You say, dryly.
“We spend time together. We study together. We have sex. We talk to each other all the time either in person or over texts.” He’s listing things off on his fingers. You are growing more irritated with every point. He seems to notice, because he gives you one of those sweet smiles of his that make you melt. You try to hold strong.
“Okay, pretty. We’re not dating. But I would like to.” He grows more serious, stepping forward again to caress your sides.
“You like me?”
Jeonghan huffs, leaning forward so his forehead touches yours. “Darling, I’m obsessed with you.”
So many pet names. It’s always endless pet names with him. You love it. Your heart beats fast. You fiddle with his shirt.
“You really haven’t been with anyone since then?” You mumble.
Jeonghan’s lips brush on the corner of your mouth, an action laced with affection. “Only you. Can’t get enough of you. You drive me crazy.”
You giggle a bit. “Okay.”
“Hm?”
“Fine. I’ll date you.”
His smile is blinding. This time, his lips taste even sweeter against yours.
genre - established relationship, fluff, slightly suggestive?
author's note - only cz mingyu has been running circles in my mind recently.
In the quiet of the night, the soft glow of the bedside lamp cast a warm, intimate circle around Mingyu and Y/N. The room was filled with the gentle hum of the air conditioner and yet the house was alive with the knowledge of their presence, the first night they were spending together as fiancés, a promise of a lifetime ahead.
Mingyu, dressed in a simple black t-shirt and gray sweatpants, was sprawled on the bed, his back against the headboard, a book resting on his lap. His dark hair was slightly disheveled, a result of his earlier attempts to tame it with his fingers. His eyes, usually a warm, deep brown, seemed to glow with an intensity that belied his casual pose. He was trying, with every ounce of his will, to focus on the words in front of him, but his mind was elsewhere, a whirlwind of thoughts and desires that threatened to consume him.
Y/N, on the other hand, was a vision of innocence and temptation wrapped in one. She had changed into a pair of shorts and a tight, black tank top, the simple cotton fabric hugging her curves in a way that made Mingyu's heart pound in his chest. Her long, wavy hair cascaded down her back, a waterfall of raven locks that begged to be touched. She was standing by the window, looking out into the night, her reflection mirrored in the glass. She seemed lost in thought, her fingers tracing the pattern on the windowpane.
The room was filled with a tension that was almost palpable, a silent conversation between their hearts. They had promised each other, earlier in their relationship, that they would wait until marriage. It was a promise Mingyu intended to keep, but as he looked at Y/N, her silhouette framed by the soft moonlight, he found himself questioning his resolve.
He closed his book with a soft thud, the sound echoing in the silent room. Y/N turned to look at him, her eyes meeting his in the reflection. "What's wrong?" she asked, her voice soft, a whisper of concern.
Mingyu swallowed hard, his gaze never leaving hers. "You're making it very difficult to keep my promise," he said, his voice low, a hint of a growl underlying the words.
Y/N turned to face him, her cheeks flushed with a soft pink. "I'm not doing anything," she protested, her voice barely above a whisper.
Mingyu chuckled, a sound that sent shivers down Y/N's spine. "You don't have to," he said, his eyes trailing down her body, lingering on the curves that the moonlight accentuated. "Just being you is enough."
Y/N bit her lip, a habit she had when she was nervous. Mingyu's eyes followed the movement, his heart pounding in his chest. He wanted to cross the room, to take her in his arms, to feel her body pressed against his. But he held back, his promise echoing in his mind, a silent reminder of the line he had drawn in the sand.
He took a deep breath, his eyes meeting hers again. "Come here," he said, his voice steady, a command wrapped in a request.
Y/N hesitated for a moment, then crossed the room, her steps soft, her eyes never leaving his. She stopped in front of him, close enough that he could feel the heat radiating from her body, but not close enough to touch. Mingyu reached out, his hand wrapping around her wrist, his thumb tracing circles on her skin. He pulled her closer, until she was standing between his legs, her body mere inches from his.
He looked up at her, his eyes filled with a mix of desire and reverence. "We promised," he said, his voice a soft reminder.
Y/N nodded, her eyes never leaving his. "We did," she whispered.
Mingyu smiled, a soft, gentle smile that made Y/N's heart flutter. "Then let's make this night about something else," he said, his hands moving to her hips, his fingers tracing the waistband of her shorts.
Y/N's breath hitched, her heart pounding in her chest. "What did you have in mind?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Mingyu leaned in, his lips brushing against her ear. "Let's talk," he said, his voice low, a promise of a different kind of intimacy. "About us, about our future, about everything and anything."
Y/N smiled, a soft, contented smile that lit up her face. "I like that idea," she said, her voice filled with a warmth that made Mingyu's heart swell.
And so, under the soft glow of the bedside lamp, they spent the night talking, their bodies close, their hearts beating in sync. The tension in the room was replaced by a soft, comfortable warmth, a promise of a lifetime of shared moments, of shared dreams, of shared love. They had promised to wait, and they would, but in that moment, they found a different kind of intimacy, a different kind of love, a different kind of promise. And it was perfect.
In which even the King of Curses remembers Valentine’s Day when it comes to his pretty little wife.
Valentine’s Day in Sukuna’s estate does not begin romantically. It begins with confusion.
Because everyone is behaving strangely.
The servants won’t meet your eyes. The guards keep disappearing when you enter a hallway. The kitchen smells suspiciously sweet, which never happens unless someone is about to get yelled at. You assume Sukuna is planning something violent. Historically, that is the safest guess.
By afternoon you’ve convinced yourself there’s probably an execution scheduled.
Instead, you walk into the main courtyard and stop.
Lanterns. Everywhere. Not neat rows, either. Some hang too low, some crooked, as if someone terrifying supervised but refused to admit they didn’t understand decoration. Red flowers arranged in dramatic piles like offerings to a very romantic war god.
And in the middle of it all stands Sukuna. True form. Arms crossed. Looking extremely pleased with himself.
You blink. Once. Twice.
“…Did you conquer a florist?”
His upper mouth smirks. The lower one clicks its tongue. “It’s Valentine’s Day.”
You stare harder. “You know what Valentine’s Day is?”
“I am not ignorant,” he replies, offended. “Humans give gifts. Declare devotion. Compete for affection.”
“That sounds like a battle summary.”
“It is.”
Then you notice the details. Your favorite sweets. The cushions placed where you like to sit in the sun. A silk robe folded nearby in your color. None of it flashy. Just… observant.
Which is somehow worse. Because it means he paid attention.
“You did all this?” you ask.
Silence.
One of his hands gestures vaguely at the courtyard. “The servants were incompetent.”
Translation: yes.
You try not to smile, but you can't hold it in.
Sukuna watches you carefully, like he’s waiting for a verdict. King of Curses, destroyer of cities, suddenly invested in whether his wife thinks the lanterns look nice.
“They’re crooked,” you say, pointing up.
His eyes narrow. “I will have them fixed.”
“No,” you laugh, grabbing his wrist before he can summon someone. “I like them.”
That earns you a pause. A long one. His expression softens just a fraction, something private slipping through.
He reaches into his sleeve and pulls out a small box, shoving it into your hands with all the grace of someone pretending not to care.
Inside is a hair ornament, heavy and intricate, clearly made by the best artisan he could threaten into perfection.
“You mentioned wanting one,” he mutters.
Weeks ago. In passing.
You look up at him, smiling in that way that makes him suddenly very aware of how large he is and how small you look standing there.
“This is cute,” you say.
Sukuna freezes. “I am not cute.”
“You decorated an entire courtyard for Valentine’s Day.”
“I prepared a strategic environment.”
You laugh again, and this time he pulls you closer, one arm wrapping around your waist while another adjusts the shawl around your shoulders with the familiar care he always has for you.
“Do not tell anyone about this,” he grumbles near your ear.
“About what? The scary curse king celebrating Valentine’s Day?”
His grip tightens just enough to make you squeak.
“…Enjoy it,” he says quietly.
…and later, when you catch him fixing one of the crooked lanterns when he thinks you aren’t looking, you realize the most dangerous thing about Sukuna isn’t his power.
It’s that he tried.
You pretend not to notice, leaning against one of the pillars instead. Watching.
He notices anyway. Of course he does.
One of his eyes flicks toward you, sharp, knowing. “Stop staring.”
“You’re fixing it wrong,” you say lightly.
He snorts, but doesn’t move away when you step closer. Lantern light catches along the markings on his skin, warm gold against something usually meant for fear. Up close you feel his warmth.
Your fingers brush his wrist when you reach up to adjust the ribbon yourself. A small touch. Accidental, technically.
He goes still.
The courtyard suddenly feels quieter.
“You’re pleased,” he says, voice lower now, less teasing.
You smile without answering. His gaze drops to your mouth, then back to your eyes, slow and deliberate. One of his hands settles at your waist, not pulling, just resting there like a question he already knows the answer to.
“All this,” you murmur, glancing around at the lanterns. “For me?”
“For mine,” he corrects softly.
The words should sound possessive. Instead they settle warm in your chest.
When he leans down, it isn’t rushed. Just close enough that his breath brushes your lips, a promise rather than an action.
“Careful,” Sukuna murmurs, faint amusement returning. “You might make me think you want another surprise.”
The lantern above you sways gently, light shifting across both of you, and as always,the King of Curses looks entirely uninterested in anything when his pretty wife is standing in front of him.
note: I wanted to make it funnier but let's go with some cuteness this time, 😚,valentine's day is already over , but happy valentine's dayyy bbs🩷
anthony bridgerton i regret to inform you that your previously held record of greatest lack of decorum from a man who self identifies as a gentleman has been broken by your brother benedict, who burst into a woman’s bedroom hoping to find her there and then wordlessly finger blasted her on the staircase pre-confession of love
I don't know what I love more: Sophie having the cheek the nerve the gall the audacity and the gumption to basically tell Benedict "You make me too horny, you must leave your own house" OR Benedict responding with "You're absolutely right and I am so sorry, I'll go pack my shit"
Every time I see a picture of season one Steve Harrington my chest squeezes because I remember that Joe Keery was like 23-24 during the filming of season one and season 5 epilogue Steve is only supposed to be around 22 so THIS??
This is how post-canon, grown up, mature, gone through six years of upside down hell, final boy, coach/sex ed teacher Steve should ACTUALLY look in 1989. I feel like people forget how YOUNG he actually is. Not me though, I regularly go insane about it
{This work is mine and mine only; it can’t and will not be copied or "rewritten".}
The heat radiated off the desert in shimmering waves, even as the sun began to dip behind the mountains. Coachella was a haze of color and sound—thumping bass, sweet smell of sunscreen, diverse outfits. This was your second time at Coachella, and this time you were blessed to be invited by a brand you modeled for.
You were alone this year, your best friend having a last-minute work trip to France for a Dior runway show. So you just wandered around saying hello to familiar faces and fans. Eventually, making it back into the artist section. You stopped at a bar to grab a drink, as you're about to leave you are stopped by miss Tara.
"Hello gorgeous," she exclaims. "omg hello, it's so nice to see you." You reply, wrapping your arms around her. "Where's Lina?" Tara asks, looking around. "She's in France at a Dior show, it was a very last-minute work trip" you say pouting a little. "well you can hang with us, lets go" She says hooking her arm with your's.
You clutch your cup as you look around, eyes landing on a familiar face. Sam. In the flesh. Laughing with his brunette best friend, head back, sitting low in a bean bag with a drink in hand. He looks better in real life, too vibrant for this planet.
As you daydreamed, you didn't even realize your friend stopped talking, looking over to where you were staring. "He's hot, isn't he?" Jake says, laughing, "Yeah, he-" you stop and look at Jake, surprised. "Oooo, y/n has a little crush on Sam," Tara chants as she jumps around the table you sat at. "Shut up, I was just people watching," you roll your eyes, turning around and downing the rest of your drink.
The group just laughs and continues talking, but you can't help but lose interest in the debate at hand, of whether a hot dog is a sandwich. You turn one last time towards Sam, but you end up making eye contact. He smirks and looks back at the group in front of him. You look away, and start paying attention to what is happening in front of you.
"Oh, and then she followed me through 2 stores," Tara says. You knew what she was talking about; this isn't your first time hearing about the weird girls at the mall who just follow her for content. "Omg do you remember when the mom called you a bitch for saying no to her daughter" You chime in finally. "omg stop, that was the worst day ever. I pray to never meet that mom ever again." Tara says passionately. Jake starts sharing a story when it's cut off by a blonde guy grabbing his shoulder.
"What's up, brother?" you look over at the voice. It was Sam. "omg hey Sam, how are you doing?" Jake responds, giving Sam a hug. "So busy but at least I'm getting money, ya know," Sam laughs lightly. Everyone laughs in agreement. "I see you found y/n here, it's nice to meet you by the way," the blue-eyed boy says with a warm smile that feels like we've been friends for years. "Nice to meet you too," you say, eyes never leaving his.
"You here alone or with Tara?" He asks, taking a quick second to look over at the short girl currently grinning from ear to ear at the interaction. "I'm here alone, my best friend Lina is in at a Dior fashion show". You say with a small smile. "Oh, I see, I'm gonna have to catch you later. Maybe at Charli xcx?" He says with a big smile on his face. "Yeah, you can catch me there," you say with a smile back, you thought to yourself how he knew Charli was one of your favorite artists.
"Omg y/n, he's so into you," Tara yells. "You're joking, it was just a little chit-chat," you say in complete denial. Tara rolls her eyes and shakes her head. "Well, anyway, let's go get food and more drinks before we go to Charlie," she starts hopping around the table toward you.
The whole time, you are thinking about the interaction you had with Sam. It wasn't rushed or awkward like you originally thought. It was pretty easy, Natural. Sam's questions seemed very personal, but also small talk. It felt like we slipped into a bubble. Just us too.
after getting food and more drinks it was time to go to the Artist section by the stage. You started feeling a realy tipsy, slightly giggling more than before, and more comfortable.
As you made it to the barricade, you bumped into what felt like a wall. Before you could even fall back, you were caught by a warm arm that held you close. You looked down from the sky to the same face you saw earlier. Sam.
"Are you good?" he got you back on your feet, "yeah, thank you so much," you say, eyes never leaving his again. "I'm glad to see you again," he says, smiling. "Yeah, you too," you say, still a little stunned.
As the concert starts, you end up singing and dancing with Sam. It starts off but jumping around together, but now, his arm is loosely draped around your hip as you enjoy music, in the middle of a set, Sam leans in and whispers in your ear. "Wanna go somewhere quieter and talk? I want to get to know you." Even the warm air of his breath made you shiver. You nod, taking his hand and walking through people to the exit.
You both walk back to the artist section, hand in hand. Sam leads you to a private tent with his and Colby's names on it. As you enter, there is a table full of snacks and drinks. The other space has a table and mats, a long couch, and bean bag chairs. "Wow, this is nice," you say, breaking the silence. "Yeah, YouTube really outdid itself this year," he says, still guiding you to the couch.
As you sit down, he sits beside you. close beside you.
You talk a lot, getting to know each other, and soon enough, the alcohol you had hits a little harder.
Things start to trail off, and so do your clothes.
Sam's throbbing cock sprung free from his tight boxers, dripping with precut. You looked up from his blushing tip to his blue eyes with a smirk. "better hurry before I get the NDA" you joke again.
Sam flips you over on your stomach, "Ass up baby" he say leaving a quick slap on your ass. His hand fell on your hips as he entered you, groaning at the tightness. "oh fuck" you moan out. "We gotta be quite love," Sam says, gripping your hips harder as a warning.
Sam starts fucking into you as a rough but sticcato pace. making each thrust long and hard. You whine into the couch, trying hard to stay quiet. "Faster, Sam, please," you plead. "As you wish," he says, picking up his pace.
Sam was growling in pleasure "fuck you're so warm and tight". His swollen cock head abusing your cervix with each thrust. He reaches a hand around to play with your clit. "No, please, too much," you whine, gripping the couch arm. "Come on, you can take it, be a good girl for me." Just as those words left Sam's mouth, you felt the coil in your stomach tighten even more. "Fuck Sam 'm gonna cum" your eye rolling back as you're overwhelmed body started to shake.
"cum for me y/n, come on" He says still rubbing continuous circles around your clit. Now his lips are attached to your neck as he fuck deeper into you. "Fuckfuckfuck," you chant out while your upper body gives out on you, and you lie against the couch, doing this causes Sam to hit a different part of you, causing you to feel overstimulated. You try to let him know, but it feels too good to complain. "Fuck i'm gonna cum, where do you want me?" He asks, out of breath. "In me is fine," you just barely whine out. " You sure?' he says, feeling closer. "Yes, I'm positive".
As Sam cum, so do you again. He lets a breathy moan, the sound making you cum a little harder than usual. "ahh, shit" you whine out putting you arm back to push Sam away.
He pulls out, wincing at the feeling. He quickly dresses and helps you get dressed too, grabbing water and a snack from the table. "That was good," you say, laughing. "Really?" he says, a little shocked. "Yeah, I think the best I've had in a while," you confess. "I'm honored," Sam says, taking the space on your lap for his head.
"So you sure I still don't have to sign that NDA?" you laugh. "Nah, you're good, pretty," He says, laughing.
Our small talk was interrupted by our drunk friends' piling into the tent.
"Oh, so this is where you guys went. We were." Colby gets cut off by a screaming Tara. "They had sex, omg," Tara screams. You notice the way Sam's face kind of drops. "Your neck," he whispers.
"And you haven't before?" You say in a sassy tone to your overexcited friend. Those words left everyone in the room, including Sam, shocked.
a/n: this was kinda ass. But I promised it would be out. the next one will be so much better, I was ina rush with this one.
2087
stormborns
tangentwithtanner
pixelskylines
snowghoul
