pairing(s): taehyung x reader if u squint, jungkook x reader, brief mentions of namjoon x oc
genre(s): fluff and smut.
word count: 5.4K
warnings: some strong language, both jungkook and y/n being idiots lol.
for the spicy content: fingering in front of a mirror, dirty talk, praise, mentions of an erection. (hope i'm not forgetting anything).
summary: how long will it take until the dam bursts and one of you says what the other one longs to hear?
masterlist
A/N: i gotta thank my beautiful @daechwitatamic because she's always there to help me, she read this SO FAST (wtf). pls go check her profile <3
he had grown so used to it that he kept looking for it the first time you stopped doing it. with a silent, simple tug on your shirt or a whine whenever you’d cut the hugs or kisses a second short. full of hesitance, you’d simply wrap your arms around him tightly, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath; you’d cup his jaw with your slightly tremorous hand, pulling him to your mouth again as he had wordlessly begged you to.
meanwhile, for you? you noticed it that time he held your wrist as you walked behind him between the crowd. his touch had never meant anything special outside the bedroom, until that night. he had made you feel a thousand things in mere seconds, your heart lighting up the same way the buildings’ lights lit up the street. it was amazing how something as basic as holding one’s wrist had helped you put the puzzle pieces together. suddenly, it made sense how you kept running away from his touch when possible, skipping reunions where you knew he would be.
because your heart couldn’t handle the truth. it couldn’t bear knowing that jeon jungkook only belonged to you behind closed doors, between messy sheets and underclothed bodies, where only whispered pleas were welcomed and not love confessions, nothing but lust. and as much as it hurt, it only hurt more trying to deprive yourself of him.
“y/n?” his voice calls, warm hand finding its place on your thigh, giving it a little squeeze.
“i’m sorry, yes you can press play.” placing your hand on top of his, you give it a squeeze back and lean backwards on the couch, looking for a way to ease your internal discomfort by getting comfortable externally.
“it’s been rolling for at least seven minutes, angel…” he trails off, not being able to take his eyes off your constant fidgeting with the blanket you were sharing. “are you okay?”
“mhm,” was the only thing that left your throat, making sure it came with a reassuring - yet very fake - smile to ease the tension. everything screamed that he didn’t believe you, knowing him well enough to notice it was a huge effort from him to stay quiet and not ask any more questions.
jungkook thought it was best to let you be. maybe his touch was offending you? or was it the pet names he had decided to use for you as they were worth it only for you? one thing you hadn’t managed to notice, though, was the fact that his hands were the fidgety ones now. they were itching to pull you closer to him and wrap his arms around your waist like you’re used to every movie night.
“it was hilarious because taehyung was complaining about her, talking about how she had eaten the last donut and that it was his favorite flavour and he hadn’t eaten a single one. suddenly, she enters the office and you just hear him go: ‘good morning, miranda!’” tone chirpy and mocking, seokjin tells the story from his point of view, not being able to hold back the cackles that leave his lips.
“taehyung! i didn’t know you despised her that much.” covering your mouth, unlike seokjin, you giggle quietly.
“i just know you wouldn’t have done that to me, you would’ve defended that donut with your last breath,” the aforementioned man rolls his eyes, head resting on your shoulder as a pout rests on his lips.
“i’ve already apologized thrice. i was in a meeting, okay?” you shake your head as a smile slowly makes its way onto your face, looking down at taehyung and ruffling his hair.
"you look like you want to explode his head." yoongi whispers, next to jungkook who’s been looking at your interaction with a clenched jaw and his tongue prodding his cheek.
"i'm trying." jungkook admits, glaring at taehyung like he had just insulted his family when all he was doing was acting cute with you. with a forkful of pasta into his mouth, he decides to take his eyes off you, knowing deep inside him it was useless feeling like that when you were coming home with him at the end of the evening. or that’s what he hoped.
“anyone up for dessert? i am full, but my sweet tooth is asking me for that cheesecake i read on the menu. i’m willing to share.” looking around for someone wanting to share the creamy dessert with you, you lean forward, resting your weight on your forearms.
“me, me! i’ve been eyeing that cheesecake since we arrived, too.” taehyung chirps, eagerly raising his hand to call the waitress’ attention. his eagerness is short-lived, though, since jungkook speaks up.
“i want cheesecake, too. you think i could share with the two of you?”
“uh… let me ask the waitress how big the slice is.” shooting jungkook a tiny smile, you turn your attention to the kind waitress who is expectant.
in the end, you two do end up sharing the slice with jungkook, as it turned out he only wanted “a couple of spoonfuls” of the dessert. he is not a cheesecake guy, which makes you wonder what had caused him to suddenly crave some of the dessert.
leaving your bills to pay your part of the check, you get up and walk to the restroom, letting everyone know they could head out if done before you came back. they tend to complain about how long you take in the restroom, and knowing jungkook is waiting for you to ride together, you make sure you hurry.
your memory sometimes fails you. and one of those cases is tonight as you can’t seem to locate jungkook or his car. letting your legs lead you to where you think you might be able to find him, you recognize taehyung’s back and hair. he might know where jungkook is.
“for god’s sake, dude. just confess your fucking feelings for her,” taehyung groans at the younger man’s behavior, covering his face.
that sentence alone makes you halt, leaning back against the brick wall so they can’t see you. eavesdropping is not appropriate, but right this moment it feels like it is.
has he had feelings for someone else this whole time he’s been fucking you? are you his go-to option when he needs it?
“what are you talking about? we were talking about cheesecake and now you’re telling me i should confess to y/n?” jungkook scoffs, about to walk away when taehyung grabs his wrist, preventing him from leaving.
“you don’t get all whiny over cheesecake, jeon. all it took was me saying i wanted to share dessert with her for you to go all ‘oh i want dessert, too’ when you weren’t even halfway done with your pasta. you kept giving me death stares if i even breathed around her.”
“whatever,” jungkook laughs, a little too loud for his liking, making him scrunch his nose. “i’m not going to confess my feelings just because of some cheesecake.” he mocks taehyung in the last word, carefully releasing his wrist from the man’s grip, walking to the car.
does that mean… no, he never confirmed it.
“jungkook!” you call him, jogging to where he is, “are we still on for tonight? you were about to leave without me.” you adjust your purse that’s almost falling off your shoulder, rocking back and forth on your tiptoes.
“yeah, i’ve been looking forward to it all night,” he confesses, pulling you closer to his body by your waist. one of his hands removes your purse from your body, the other cupping your cheek. “you ready?”
“yeah! bye, tae-tae,” you wave at the man, flashing him a smile before getting inside the car.
the traffic at this hour is never heavy, if anything, it’s the best it’s ever been. the wind coming from outside is making you get goosebumps, but it’s nothing jungkook’s hand on your leg can’t provide relief to.
his phone lights up just as you’re reaching the last traffic light before his house.
taehyung [21:02]: i’m pretty sure she heard us talking. just so you know.
jungkook scans his phone screen, reading the text quickly before shutting off the device and placing it somewhere else where it won’t distract him.
“what did tae want?” you ask, tilting your head.
“nothing important,” he murmurs, tone leaving no room for discussion as he speeds off once the traffic light turns green. “is it my turn to pick the movie tonight?” trying to change the topic, jungkook squeezes your thigh and parks the car smoothly, but doesn’t get out yet.
“uh, i think? but maybe i can bribe you with some kisses? there’s this movie i really wanna watch,” you confess, leaning over the console once your seatbelt is off, your face dangerously close to his.
“bribing me, huh? okay, hit me with your best shot,” he smirks, hungrily latching his lips to yours, hands holding your cheek softly - the perfect juxtaposition to the way he laps at your mouth.
the kiss rides like a wave - intense when needed, but also soft at times, steadying you and leaving you craving for more. more him, more jungkook, all the time.
“mmm get inside before i change my mind,” jungkook whispers against your lips, already chasing them for more, but you’re quicker than him, getting out of the car and using your set of keys to unlock the door.
he seems pretty compliant tonight, agreeing to everything you say, letting you kiss him all you want even if you had bribed him already to choose the movie… yet he never complains, never says anything about how you’re not paying attention to the movie, eating at him or his snacks.
“did you bring your pajamas this time?” jungkook turns to look at you, moving some strands of hair off your face so he can look at the blush that’s starting to cover your cheeks. “i’m gonna take that as a no.” he snickers at your pretty much silent response, pausing the movie and pulling you to his lap.
“i keep forgetting them. i don’t really use them around you, but they’re pretty and comfortable,” a pout takes over your lips, playing with the hem of his shirt.
“i mean, i’m never against seeing you in my clothes. but you gotta start remembering to pack your pajamas, y/n.” jungkook carefully secures an arm around your waist as he moves to take off his shirt, letting it rest on your lap once taken off. “put it on. let’s get our pajamas on and then we’ll continue with the movie, sounds good?”
you nod, giving his nose a tiny kiss, enough to hear him chuckle and make you leave with a smile on your face. the floor feels cold under your bare feet as you make your way to the bathroom next to his room; the night is chilly enough that you already know you’re gonna be seeking jungkook’s body warmth throughout the night since you tend to get cold pretty easily.
it's almost like your heart is inside a cage and fighting to be set free the second jungkook's fingers trace your curves. every square inch of your body responds to him - blushing, smiling, getting goosebumps. your body knows better than your mind. and as much as you try to tell yourself that you don't have feelings for him, you do. you hope he does, too.
slipping the cotton material over your body, you look at your reflection on the mirror, adjusting the shirt so it covers your body the most it can. his shirt smells like him, like the cologne that drives you crazy and can’t get enough of. a knock interrupts your train of thought, and you open the door for him to come in as you move away from the door to collect your clothes and fold them.
“wanna know something funny?” is the first thing jungkook says as he sees you, leaning against the door frame, shamelessly eyeing your figure.
“what’s up?” you turn to him, looking at him as you finish folding your pants, recognizing the hunger in his stare but saying nothing about it.
“as i was getting dressed this morning, i kept picturing you in my clothes every time i picked out a shirt,” he starts, taking a few steps to be closer to you. “wondering which shirt of mine would look best on you. but now…” his tongue wets his lip, removing the pants from your hands and putting them next to the sink.
“n-now?” you murmur dumbly, waiting for him to keep talking.
“i think i picked it for another reason.” he pulls you closer to his body by the shirt, cradling your face in his hands. “i think i picked what shirt to wear based on what i wanted you to wear as i fucked you. or as i took it off your body.” he simply states, moving one hand down to your neck. he doesn’t even bother to apply pressure on it, he just lets his hand rest there.
"so what are you gonna do? are you gonna keep it on or should we take it off?" you trace the ink on his forearm, moving your head to place a kiss on his palm.
"wouldn't want you getting cold, would we?" his hands move you in mere seconds, letting your pelvis rest against the edge of the vanity, right in front of the mirror.
you can see him, can see the way he puts your hair up in a messy ponytail so he has space to scatter kisses around your neck, decorating it with a couple of marks. your hands replace his on your hair, holding it up the way he wants it. jungkook hums, pleased, while you quietly gasp when his hands move to your inner thighs, making you spread them wider so his hands can roam freely where they want to.
“mmm, good girl.” he praises, his fingers leaving feather-like touches on your clothed cunt before they wrap around the waistband of your underwear. jungkook crouches down as he removes them, leaving a trail of kisses on your legs, too.
“no matter,” he starts, hugging you by the waist once he’s back to his full height, “how hard i try, you’re always on my mind. it’s not fair.”
“it’s as fair as it can be. you’re always on mine, too,” you whisper to him, almost like you’re telling him a secret, even if it’s just the two of you in the room.
maybe it is a secret with the way you’re baring your heart to him by saying that.
silence follows your words, filling your chest with something close to restlessness. had it been too much? did you cross the line with your words? your gaze moves to the floor, enjoying his embrace the most you can because you’re sure he’s gonna step away–
“look at me. not at my reflection, but at me,” he orders, and you’re surprised by the way you quickly obey, without second thoughts.
“what’s going on in that little head of yours, angel?” jungkook whispers, hovering your lips, giving you space to talk freely.
jungkook’s not sure what just happened. he is sure, though, that with the way your expression fell in that moment, he doesn’t wanna see that again, ever. the sincerity in your eyes when you confessed that he’s constantly in your mind too had made him feel… something. not sure what to make of it, but with a persistent thought in his head:
taehyung was right.
“i want you.” you respond after a while, taking a deep breath to calm yourself down. your nose nudges his playfully, a grin on your mouth rapidly replaced by his lips on yours.
jungkook kisses you as if he’s never going to see you again, feeling lonely when your mouth’s not on his, when your body is half an inch further than he’d like it to be. his lips chase yours, they chase the sweet, lingering taste of the chamomile tea you had drank during the movie.
the movie. he doesn’t even know what the fuck it had been about since he was just thinking about you, when you were next to him the whole time. what if taehyung found the way to your heart and stole you from him? he should confess, shouldn’t he?
at least he’s past the denial phase.
your confession should be more than enough for him to know you probably feel the same too. unless you’re constantly thinking about him because you’re needy, because you want him.
deciding to shove those thoughts away, he pulls away from the kiss, pushing you with a hand on your back so your chest is against the vanity, making you hiss at its coldness.
“thought you were gonna fuck me with it on,” you confess, angling your hips so they’re slightly lifted. you rest your chin on your forearms, finding a comfortable position; you know you’ll be here for a long time before he fucks you.
“tsk, who says i’m not? don’t be greedy,” he tsks, running his cold hands over the warm skin of your butt, squeezing it a little. “i don’t think i’ve ever fucked you in front of a mirror, have i?”
“nuh-uh. there’s always a first time with you.”
there’s this side to you that only comes out when jungkook’s around. he knows who you truly are and helps you express that side, a judgment-free zone if you will. if restlessness ever clouds your thoughts, a look from jungkook is all you need for everything to quiet down and dissipate.
“keep your eyes on me, or i’ll stop.” jungkook leans down to leave a trail of kisses on your upper back, allowing you to feel his hard-on right on your butt. “y/n.” biting down on your skin, hard enough to leave a tiny mark, he tilts his head when you only blink at him, whining desperately. “did you hear what i said?”
“yeah, yeah, not taking my eyes off you,” you reply, gripping the counter as his fingers make contact with your now-bare cunt, collecting your wetness before easing two fingers in one go.
every drag of his fingers inside you manages to turn you into a moaning mess, legs trembling because of his touch, eyes trained on his just like he expected. it takes a huge effort from you to not close your eyes once he curls his fingers, aiming for your g-spot.
“look so pretty bent over the sink for me, aren’t you my pretty girl?” he whispers, hot breath fanning in your ear as the fingers from his free hand move to rub your clit, enjoying the way he can tell you’re about to lose it. when jungkook has you like this, you let your inhibitions get lost. your body trusts jungkook, feeling safe under him, letting him do whatever he wants to you because you know he would never hurt you.
it’s about time your heart trusts him, too.
you manage to nod, trying to keep your eyes open as he instructed you to. the sound of your whimpers and loud moans fill the bathroom; as jungkook pulls you by the hair so your back is against his chest, you lean your head on his shoulder, turning your head so you can kiss his neck.
“words, princess. let me hear you say it.” he requests, slowing his thrusts as he expects your reply.
“i-i’m your pretty g-girl. i’m jungkook’s pretty girl,” you whine, hips having a mind of their own and rutting against his hand to get some more friction.
“what was that? i’m sure you can be louder. no need to be shy.” he pouts, smirking condescendingly right after he angles his palm so your clit rubs against it, thumb wiping the fallen tears on your cheeks.
“i’m your pretty girl, fuck! jungkook, please. i need you.” moving your head to face him through the mirror, your hands grip his forearms in order to control yourself. “yours, all yours. just– take me, please.”
he takes his sweet time with you that night, reminding you that you’re his, and reassuring himself he’s not gonna lose you. even if the voices in his head wouldn’t shut up about how he could lose you any second, the way your hands reach out for him so you can hold him a little longer, how you won’t stop showering him with kisses as your eyes struggle to stay open because of how tired he has left you…
eventually, sleep wins the fight. you pull the blanket jungkook got you closer to your body, scooting closer to his body - his chest has always been more comfortable to you than a pillow - and clinging to him like a koala.
he can’t take his eyes off you. you’re laying there, asleep, and he feels like you’ve cast a spell on him. when jungkook used to think about you, he’d either picture you naked or as someone who’d be there unconditionally like the great friend you are.
however, now? he cannot focus on anything other than your lips and how he yearns to kiss them over and over again just to hear your muffled, angelical giggles; how your body feels meant to be next to his like two puzzle pieces.
despite the fact that everyone can see how much time you two spend together, they know you’re not dating. they know about your - basically - best friends-with-benefits relationship, leaving both of you on the market. all that jungkook can think about is changing everyone’s line of reasoning from “they’re fucking” to “they’re dating”, they’re in a relationship”.
yeah, he’s screwed.
he feels like his heart is gonna explode, and he tries to convince himself with all of his might that it’s because of the way you look tonight and not because of taehyung’s arm around your waist as you both move to the table you got assigned for tonight. if he could rip it off your body, he would, but the weight of someone else’s body on his arm reminds him you’re not his date, this other girl is. he’s walking with somebody else, too, so he has to keep it together for the sake of jimin’s party.
when jimin sent the invitation to the group chat, both of you felt excited and had already started to plan what you’d wear, who was going to drive who, and what you two were going to gift him. the conversation fell when you reached the bottom of the invitation, where in bold, it said: remember to bring a date!
sure, it said other things, but that was all both of you could focus on.
“so… uh, you and i are not dating–”
“yeah,” you squeak, interrupting jungkook. “we aren’t, so we should find a date, right?”
“yup, you could go with taehyung! he’d love that,” jungkook lets out an insincere laugh, keeping himself busy with another app to stop thinking about how badly he wanted to be your date.
fast forward to today and jealousy is eating him alive. that night, he had texted jimin privately, asking him to sit you at another table in order to keep his feelings controlled, to be able to spend time with leslie, his date for the party. now, he doesn’t know if it was a good idea.
you two fit perfectly together, he realizes. he’s mesmerized by you, the color of your dress suits your skin incredibly well and he finds himself smiling when he sees the way you grin at the others at your table, greeting them quickly in order to continue listening to whatever taehyung is telling you.
right, taehyung.
he’s one second away from getting up, chair in hand, to sit between the two of you because he can’t stand one of his closest friends taking his place, talking to his girl.
“is everything okay?” leslie asks, noticing jungkook’s clenched jaw and tight grip on the tablecloth.
“what? yeah, why do you ask?” he turns to look at her, eyebrows furrowed together subconsciously. he’s quick to soften his gaze, moving his chair so it’s closer to leslie’s.
“you seemed… angry, i don’t know. if something’s bothering you, we can leave,” she suggests, wrapping a hand around his wrist, trying to intertwine her fingers with his.
“the party hasn’t even started,” he scoffs, pressing his lips together right after. “sorry, i’ll keep it in mind, okay? i’m just a little distracted, had a small situation at work before coming here, that’s why i was late.”
because he was certainly not debating whether he should go to the party if it meant seeing you with somebody else. nah, not at all.
jungkook manages to keep his feelings at bay for the second half of the night. almost like the situation had been flipped around since you’re the one about to lose it now.
the food was delicious, taehyung kept making you laugh every now and then with his funny stories and bad jokes, you had also met namjoon’s girlfriend, kimberly. everything was sailing smoothly. jungkook who?
that was, of course, until he and his date joined the other couples on the dancefloor. you feel like they’re dancing on top of your table, too close for your liking. too close to you, too close to each other. leslie keeps laughing like a teenager in love at prom; at this point, you think he’s a second away from kissing her if you don’t do something soon. taehyung’s deep in conversation with jimin, so that leaves you without your dance partner.
almost as if he’d read your mind, jimin stands up and pulls the two of you to the dancefloor. taehyung moves his free arm to be able to reach your hand, making sure you don’t get lost in the crowd. bingo, you think to yourself, standing up and reaching for his hand, securing your grip on his.
“i love this song, i was about to interrupt your conversation,” you confess, taking advantage of the position you’re in now that taehyung spun you around to the rhythm of the music to peek around the room, trying to locate jungkook.
your eyes meet his almost instantly, your gaze changing from soft to something close to “did i interrupt something?” when you see how close leslie’s mouth is to his. jungkook steps away from her at breakneck speed, making you smirk now that your line of sight is not infected. you don’t mind taehyung pulling you closer to his body if it means giving jungkook a taste of his own medicine. besides, his grip feels snug.
“didn’t know you were such a good dancer,” taehyung’s warm breath in your ear startles you.
“we’ve never had the privilege of dancing together, have we?” the music is loud enough, almost like you’re in a club, making you lean to talk in his ear too.
you don’t step away or move your head when taehyung cups your cheek and makes you look at him, not even when he tilts his head and his eyes flutter shut, lips mere inches away from yours.
“y/n, i think i left my gift in your car, can we go get it?” jungkook’s voice is heard out of nowhere, making taehyung jump and step away from you.
“but we didn’t even r–”
“now,” he growls, reaching for your hand.
there’s a tiny window open for you to refuse if you don’t want to listen to him. jungkook could be filled with rage, but he’d never force you to do something you don’t feel like doing. the moment you take your hand in his, he leads you to the hallway, hoping you two could have a decent conversation.
“this is not the way to the parking lot, i should’ve guessed you were bringing me somewhere else since we didn’t ride together, but i still don’t understand what we’re doing–”
you’re hotly interrupted by jungkook. “were you about to kiss taehyung?”
“were you about to kiss leslie before i caught you redhanded?” you closely scrutinize his body language.
he is not going to put the blame on you, oh hell no.
“i think i asked you first, y/n. were you, or were you not?” he questions you again, tongue prodding his cheek.
“last time i checked, you’re not blind. you definitely saw my lips hovering over his, his hands on my waist, my chest pressed to his…” you trail off, biting your lip to contain the smirk that’s about to take place on your lips.
“if you were so okay with him kissing you, why did you get all bothered by me being close to leslie? if i recall correctly, she was standing close to me like this,” he pulls you to him by the waist, wrapping your arms around his neck. “and i was here…” he leans down, about to kiss you until you push him off you.
“if you wanna go kiss her, just go. sorry i interrupted your majestic movie scene with my jealousy.” it escapes your mouth before you could even think twice about it. your arms, that were still wrapped around his neck, leave his body in order for you to be able to cover your mouth.
“what was that? i’m sure you can be louder. no need to be shy.” he uses the same sentence he uttered the other day in his bathroom, enjoying the way you get all flustered.
“imma go shove my tongue down taehyung’s throat. this is a waste of time.” you spit, eyeing him up and down before turning around and taking a couple of steps.
“over my dead body, get the fuck back here and kiss me,” he practically growls, making you halt in your steps.
“not so cool picturing the other person about to kiss someone else who’s not you, is it?” you reply, back still turned to him.
“i was not joking when i said you should kiss me. i was also not joking when i called you my pretty girl the other day.”
that makes you turn to look at him.
“it was the heat of the moment, don’t twist your words.” you’re able to recognize when jungkook is bullshitting his way through life, and you hope this is not one of those moments because that is the closest thing you’re ever gonna get to a confession coming from him.
“i’m not.” he simply states, walking up to you. “if what you felt tonight was indeed jealousy, then i’m not ashamed to say i’ve spent the whole night imagining it was me holding your hand in front of everyone, holding you close, making you laugh and dancing so close to you.”
“why now?” you ask, deciding to break the one-step barrier between the two of you, being able to spit one question out of the thousand in your head.
“because i hated seeing someone else take my place, and i’ve tried to hide it. i’ve tried to ignore these feelings, but i can’t anymore.” he gulps, throwing his head back in exasperation. “my date, you were supposed to be my date. not leslie.”
“why didn’t you say something?”
“why didn’t you say something?” jungkook returns the question, obviously a nervous mess because of your interrogation.
“look, can we pretend i never mentioned i felt jealous? it was stupid and useless and this conversation’s going nowhere.” typical you trying to escape everything that seems complicated.
“too bad, y/n. because i’m not letting you go so easily now that i know you feel the same way.”
before you know it, jungkook’s kissing you. if he’s kissed you before, this kiss makes you forget all those previous kisses. nothing feels better than the way jungkook leaves you breathless just by licking your bottom lip, or the way he breaks the kiss for a nanosecond before tilting his head to deepen the second best kiss you’ve ever had.
the need for air becomes predominant, making you reluctantly step away from him. jungkook is quick to chase your mouth, eyes still closed and a low whine leaving his mouth.
“mmm. let’s go home, ‘kay?” you giggle, cupping his face like he usually does to you.
“i’ll follow you everywhere, y/n.”
pls don't be a silent reader! i love reading your reactions <3 hope u enjoyed.
just wanna thank everyone for the reblogging, likes, and even follow!! love y’all 🥰
Genre - smut 18+, established relationship au, MDNI
Wc - 5k
Warnings - yoongi's brother's reception, secret relationship, yoongi's aunt wants to set reader for her son🤪, jealous yoongi, Explicit smut - Hard dom yoongi, sub reader, chocking, mirror sex, unprotected sex, degradation, man handling, fingering, face fucking, spiting in mouth, edging, crying, hair pulling, marking
The Min family estate is breathtaking, especially tonight. The glow of fairy lights, the grand chandeliers, with laughter and music filling the air.
You step out of the car, adjusting the delicate fabric of your dress. With one final glance at your reflection in the tinted window, you reach for your phone, fingers gliding over the screen.
You: just reached. where are you?
It takes only a few seconds before your boyfriend replies.
Yoon: 2nd floor. Left side of the hall
The moment you step inside it's filled with the scent of fresh flowers and expensive cologne. Your lips curve slightly as you push through the crowd, eyes scanning the space.
It doesn't take long for you to find him.
Min Yoongi, standing near the far end of the ballroom, eyes already locked onto you like a magnet.
He’s dressed in a tailored black suit, crisp and perfect. One hand is tucked into his pocket while the other lazily holds a glass of whiskey, but it’s his eyes that hold you captive.
Those dark eyes roam over you, starting from the waves of your hair down to the delicate curve of your neckline. They trail lower, taking in the way your dress hugs every inch of your body. His tongue peeks out, wetting his lips ever so slightly, making heat crawl up your skin.
Your phone buzzes again.
Yoon: You look beautiful
You bite your lip, glancing at him beneath your lashes.
You: And you look like trouble
The corner of his lips twitches, and even from across the room, you see the slight shake of his head.
A familiar voice calls your name.
“Finally! We were starting to think you weren’t coming.”
You turn to see your friends waving you over. You weave through the crowd smiling, and join them, instantly enveloped in chatter.
Taehyung’s already halfway through his drink, Jimin’s adjusting his blazer and Hoseok is grinning at you.
“You look stunning,” Jimin remarks. “Bet someone over there is losing his mind right now,” he says, giving you a knowing smirk.
You roll your eyes, but the heat creeping up your neck betrays you. “Would you shut up?”
“Oh, come on,” Hoseok teases.
You can't deny though, because you can feel it too. Yoongi’s gaze.
“Must be so hard pretending you two aren’t together,” Taehyung adds, sighing dramatically. “Poor Yoongi hyung, watching you like a lovesick fool but having to act all cool and composed.”
You shake your head, laughing softly. “We’ll tell his parents when we’re ready.”
And that’s the truth. His family is traditional, full of expectations, while Yoongi never cared much for their opinions. But still, you asked to wait before telling them. And he agreed, because this decision was yours to make together.
A fresh round of laughter pulls you from your thoughts, and you join in easily.
“Yoongi hyung!” Taehyung exclaims a bit dramatic, grinning as he lifts his glass.
Yoongi huffs, sliding effortlessly, his fingers grazing your waist just enough to make your breath hitch but not enough to be noticed by anyone else. His way of saying hi when he can’t say it out loud.
He just leans in slightly, his breath warm against your ear as he murmurs, just for you to hear, “You do look beautiful.”
And just like that, you’re gone.
----
The function moves along in a blur of clinking glasses, lively conversations. Yoongi -ever the reluctant center of attention, eventually takes the stage for a speech. His voice carrying warmth as he speaks about his brother and new beginnings.
And then, as quickly as he appeared, he’s swept away, pulled into conversations that demand his time- relatives, business associates.
Meanwhile, you remain with your friends. Jimin recounts a particularly embarrassing memory from their younger days, making Taehyung groan dramatically. Easy laughter fills amongst you.
After some time, you make your way toward the drinks table, the glass in your hand nearly empty. As you tilt your glass for a refill, a voice almost too-sweet cuts through the noise.
“My, my… such a lovely young woman all alone at the drinks table?”
You glance up, meeting the keen eyes of a lady, dressed in an elegant hanbok.
“You must be close to the Min family,” she continues, stepping beside you, her smile never faltering. “I don’t believe we’ve had the pleasure of speaking yet.”
Your fingers pause around the stem of your glass, momentarily confused. You’re certain you’ve never seen her before. Not the few gatherings that you've attended along with your mutual friends, neither in any of the rare photos Yoongi has shared with you. But still, you offer a polite smile and a slight bow in greeting.
“Ah.. I’m sorry, I don’t believe we’ve met before,” you say. “But it’s lovely to meet you.”
She lets out an amused laugh, “Oh, dear, that’s because I don’t visit often,” she says, waving a delicate hand. “But I am part of the family. Yoongi’s aunt.”
Your grip on your glass tightens just slightly. Yoongi’s aunt. You nod politely, offering a small smile. “Oh, I see. It’s nice to meet you. I'm Han Y/n.”
She hums, eyes scanning you in a way that feels far too observant. “I noticed you earlier with Yoongi’s friends,” she says, taking a delicate sip of her drink. “You seem quite close to them.”
“They’re good friends of mine,” you reply keeping your tone light.
She hums again, a knowing glint in her eyes. “You’re quite a lovely girl. Well-mannered, and beautiful too.” Her voice is warm, almost too sweet. “It’s a shame someone in the family hasn’t snatched you up already.”
You blink, caught slightly off guard by her sudden comment. “Oh?”
She nods, setting her glass down on the nearby table. “My son, Seojun-ah—my brilliant boy. He just returned from New York a few months ago. Studied and worked there for years. Hardworking boy.” She smiles as she continues, “In my opinion... you two would make a wonderful pair.”
Ah. So that’s where this is going.
You school your expression, forcing a polite smile. “That’s... kind of you to say.”
She leans in slightly, lowering her voice as if sharing a secret. “He’s single, you know. And someone like you—” she gestures vaguely, as if you’re the perfect ideal, “—would be perfect for him.”
You grip your glass a little tighter, willing yourself to stay calm. “That’s flattering,” you reply, carefully measured. “But I’m not really looking for anything like that right now.”
Her smile falters for only a fraction of a second before she recovers, waving a hand. “Oh, nonsense. A woman like you shouldn’t be single for long.” She tilts her head, watching you closely. “Unless, of course... you’re already seeing someone?”
Just as you part your lips to respond, a familiar voice cuts in.
“Auntie, where have you been so long!?”
You turn to see Taehyung, his signature smile already in place as he slides into the conversation.
The aunt’s face lights up in recognition. “Oh, Taehyung! It’s been so long. Look at you! so handsome as always.”
The woman chuckles, tilting her head toward you. “I was just asking her if she’s single or maybe interested in meeting my son.” Her tone is light with teasing.
“Oh, she’s totally single.”
Your head snaps toward him, eyes widening in silent betrayal. He doesn’t even try to hide the amusement in his gaze.
The aunt's face lights up with excitement at Taehyung’s words. “Really? That’s wonderful!” She claps her hands together, already looking around. “Let me introduce you to Seojun. He must be here somewhere.”
Your heart stutters, a flicker of panic rising in your chest. Shit.
You shoot Taehyung a murderous glare, but the bastard only sips his drink, eyes glinting with pure mischief. You know he’s enjoying this way too much.
“That’s really not necessary—” You start, voice edged with nervous laughter, but the aunt isn’t even listening. Her eyes scan the ballroom eagerly, as if his son will magically appear at any moment.
“Well, this sounds like a lovely setup, but I promised someone a dance,” Taehyung, your so-called friend is already retreating with a shit-eating grin. “Have fun, you two!”
Your glare could burn holes through him, but he’s gone before you can protest. Your fingers tighten around your glass. You need to find a way out of this. Fast.
“There he is! Seojun-ah!” The aunt’s delighted voice rings out as she waves eagerly.
Your stomach drops as a man maybe around Yoongi's age, turns toward the call, eyes narrowing in confusion before he approaches.
He’s tall, well-dressed, and honestly quite handsome, but that’s not the issue. The issue is that you know exactly what’s happening, and by the look on his face when his mother introduces you, so does he.
"This is Y/n, sweetheart!” his mother exclaims, practically radiating excitement. “Such a lovely girl. You two should chat, I have a feeling you’ll get along very well.”
“I’ll leave you to it! No need to thank me,” she's disappearing into the crowd before either of you can react.
Seojun chuckles nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. “I—I’m sorry,” he says, shaking his head. “I know what my mom’s trying to do..” His eyes flicker with mild embarrassment before he sighs. “Sorry if she made you uncomfortable. You really don’t have to entertain this.”
He seems genuinely shy, his words coming out in a rushed ramble as he struggles to navigate the awkward situation.
You offer him a small smile, trying to ease his nerves. "I wasn’t expecting it, but..” You glance around briefly, hoping for an escape. “She seems too... enthusiastic?”
Seojun lets out a breathy laugh, shaking his head. “That’s one way to put it.” He takes a sip of his drink, still looking slightly mortified. “She’s been on this matchmaking spree lately. Thinks it’s her life’s mission to get me married off.”
You chuckle at that.
Meanwhile, across the ballroom, Yoongi strides back toward your group, his gaze scanning for you instinctively. But a frown tugs at his lips.
“Where is she?”
Jimin and Hoseok exchange glances, poorly hiding their amused smirks. Taehyung, however, doesn’t bother to hold back his laughter.
“Oh, hyung,” he drawls, draping an arm over Yoongi’s shoulder dramatically. “Your dear girlfriend is currently on her way to becoming your sister-in-law.”
Jimin finally loses it, chuckling as he nods toward the far side of the room. “One of your aunts decided she’d be the perfect match for Seojun.”
Hoseok chimes in, shaking his head. “She just pulled her aside like it was fate.”
Yoongi’s eyes flicker towards where you stand. The moment he spots you, with Seojun, no less, looking all polite and engaged in conversation and that makes something sharp coils in his chest.
His fingers flex, tightening around his wine glass, an odd heat creeping up his spine.
It’s irrational, really. He knows you. Knows you’re probably just being your usual, kind self. But the fact that someone else—some other man—is standing in front of you, looking at you like you’re something to consider, doesn’t sit well with him.
Seojun is laughing lightly, and you’re chuckling too—chuckling.
“Hyung,” Taehyung drawls, watching the way his expression darkens. “You good?”
Yoongi doesn’t answer, face almost unreadable as he downs the rest of his drink in one smooth motion.
You offer Seojun a polite smile, searching for a way to wrap this up without seeming rude. "It was nice talking to you, but I should get back to my friends," you say lightly.
Seojun, still a little flustered from the situation his mother put him in, nods quickly. "Oh, of course! Yeah, no worries," he says, "Enjoy the rest of the night."
You give him a small nod before turning away as relief washes over you. The moment you step closer to your group, the playful energy among them is unmistakable.
Taehyung is already smirking ready to tease, but before he can open his mouth, you shoot him a glare that makes him chuckle instead.
“So, how was your first meeting with your future husband?”
You shoot him a dry look. “Shut up.”
Jimin snickers beside you. “You two really did look good together, though.”
You roll your eyes, shifting slightly on your feet. Yoongi sets his drink down and just as you open your mouth, “Yoongi—”
He doesn’t answer. Instead, he simply mutters, “Excuse me,” and turns away, heading toward a group of guests like nothing just happened.
Huh?
Did he just.. walk away? Just like that?
You stare at his retreating back, your lips parting slightly in disbelief. This man. You weren’t even the one who dragged yourself into that conversation with the guy. It’s not like you were flirting! If Yoongi’s gonna be all broody and distant over something that wasn’t even your fault—
You huff, crossing your arms. If he wants to play the ignoring game, so will you.
The lights dim, the dance floor filled with soft music. Even Yoongi’s parents share a brief dance, their laughter blending with the sweet ambiance of the evening.
Yet, Yoongi still hasn’t spoken to you since he left. Not that you care.
The crowd stands watching, some cheering for the dancing couples. Just as you shift, thinking about moving elsewhere, someone stumbles into you.
“Oh, I’m so sorry,” the person says quickly. You turn to see Seojun, his eyes widening slightly in surprise before he chuckles.
“It’s okay,” you say, offering a small smile. He seems like he’s about to excuse himself when you hear a very familiar voice beside him.
“Oh my! I knew it!” she exclaims excitedly. “You two were bound to click!”
Your stomach drops.
She's already nudging her son towards you.
“Ask her to dance!” she insists, practically beaming.
Your eyes widen slightly, panic bubbling up. How the hell do you keep finding yourself in these situations tonight?
He almost pleads with his eyes for his mother to let it go, but she remains insistent, nudging both of you onto the dance floor.
Realizing there’s no way out, Seojun clears his throat, his shyness giving way to a small smile.
“Would you like to dance?” he asks.
Your heart beats faster—definitely not from excitement but from sheer disbelief at how the night keeps unfolding.
Yoongi was busy handling some final wedding details when Namjoon nudges his arm.
"Isn't that Y/n?"
Yoongi’s eyes flicker towards the dance floor, scanning the crowd until they land on you.
And just like that, his entire demeanor shifts.
There you were, on the dance floor. With Seojun. His arm lightly placed on your waist while your hand rested in his. Yoongi watched as you let out a small laugh, though your body language still seemed slightly stiff. That didn’t matter.
The sight of you with someone else was enough to make something simmer inside him.
"Damn…you look like you’re about to murder someone." Namjoon chuckled.
"Shut up, Joon."
Your laughter fades slightly, and almost instinctively, as your eyes flicker over to Yoongi’s.
The second your gazes meet, your breath catches. His darkened eyes are locked onto you. Even from across the room, the weight of his stare is suffocating. His grip on his drink is tight, jaw clenched. You can practically feel the tension radiating off him.
Seojun says something with a chuckle, "I don't think we've had a formal introduction, I'm Min Seojun—"
But you barely register it. Your heartbeat picks up, and suddenly you’re hyperaware of everything. The placement of Seojun’s hand, the closeness of the dance, the way Yoongi’s expression darkens further with each passing second.
You take a deep breath, deciding you’ve had enough. You quickly scan the crowd, searching for Yoongi's aunt, hoping she’s wandered off elsewhere. When you don’t spot her, you take it as your cue to end this.
Slipping out of Seojun’s light hold, you step back offering him a polite but firm smile. “I'm sorry, I think I should leave—”
You turn before finishing, weaving your way through the mass of people to find an open space away from the dance floor. The air feels cooler here, giving you a brief moment to collect yourself. Just as you exhale, a hand wraps around your wrist.
“Y/n,” Seojun’s voice is gentle as he calls out, his grip enough to make you turn around.
“I… are you free this weekend?” he asks suddenly, his voice steady despite the slight pink dusting his cheeks.
You blink, completely taken aback.
The last thing you expected was for him to ask you out. Your lips part, ready to form a rejection—
But you don’t get the chance.
Because before you can even utter a word, another hand snatches yours away from Seojun’s grasp.
“She’s not.”
Your breath catches as you whip your head around, your wide eyes meeting Yoongi’s. His fingers are wrapped securely around your hand. His jaw is clenched, the muscle ticking as his stormy gaze remains locked onto Seojun.
The voice was filled with an unmistakable edge which startles Seojun, clearly caught off guard. His gaze flickers between the two of you, slowly processing the situation—the way Yoongi's hand hold yours.
“Oh…okay,” Seojun mutters after a beat, letting out a slight awkward chuckle. His eyes dart to you once more, lingering for a second before he turns back to Yoongi.
“See ya around, Hyung,” he says, forcing a half-smile before finally stepping away.
You glance up at your boyfriend, your voice barely above a whisper.
“Yoongi—”
“Don't."
Yoongi’s grip on your wrist is possessive as he tugs you through the crowd. Your heart pounds in your chest, the buzz of music and laughter fading into the background as he leads you down the dimly lit hallway.
His silence is deafening, the tension in the air between you growing further.
“Yoongi—” You try to call his name, but he doesn’t stop, doesn’t even look back. His fingers tighten around your wrist just enough to make you swallow your words. You don’t know if it’s jealousy, anger, or something deeper that’s driving him right now.
A door swings open, and Yoongi pulls you inside. Turning you around and pressing you against the slammed door.
“You think this is funny?”
His arms cage you in, palms flat beside your head as he leans in. His breath is warm against your skin, but there’s nothing soft about the way he speaks.
Your voice wavers slightly. “Yoongi.. I - your aunt forced us to dance—”
“Forced you?” he repeats, his tone laced with disbelief, his dark gaze flickering between your lips and your eyes. “Did she force you to smile at him too? To let him touch you?”
“It wasn’t like that,” you say quickly, your hands pressing lightly against his chest, but he doesn’t budge. His body is warm, and his scent fucking intoxicating.
Yoongi scoffs, his fingers curling against the door beside your head. “Then what was it like, huh?” His voice is lower now, rough with something unreadable. “Because from where I stood, it sure as hell looked like you were enjoying yourself.”
You blink up at him, your heart hammering. “You know I didn't mean it any other way,” you defend, your voice softer now.
Yoongi exhales sharply through his nose, his tongue swiping over his lower lip in frustration.
You barely get his name out before his lips crash onto yours, cutting off whatever you were about to say. A shocked gasp escapes you, but he doesn’t give you a second to process as his hands grip your waist, pulling you impossibly close as his lips move against yours with almost a punishing force.
Your fingers tighten around his blazer. His body presses against yours. The kiss is fiery, nothing like the gentle ones he’s given you before.
His teeth graze your lower lip, and you whimper softly, your knees nearly buckling.
Yoongi growls lowly at the sound, one of his hands sliding up to cup your jaw, tilting your face so he can deepen the kiss. His tongue brushes against yours, stealing the breath from your lungs, making your head spin.
“Do you have any idea what you do to me?” His voice low, as he growls.
You look up at him, panting softly, yet eyes laced with something playful. You’ve never seen Yoongi this worked up. In all the years you’ve been together, he’s always been the calm one. But fuck, seeing him loose his cool, it’s turning you on more than you care to admit.
“Didn’t know you could be this jealous,” you murmur a breathless whisper meant to provoke.
Yoongi’s eyes narrow, his jaw ticking.
“Don’t test me, princess,” he breathes, his voice low with warning as his hand slowly wraps around your throat, enough to make you feel the warmth.
“You don’t want to play with fire.”
Your breath hitches at the sensation, but the way your thighs clench in response betrays your thoughts.
“But I want to,” you whisper.
And just like that, the last thread of restraint snaps within Yoongi.
Yoongi’s breath fans against your ear as he leans in, voice like gravel. “You asked for it.”
A low groan rumbles from deep in his chest as he tugs you to the mirror counter, spinning you around, pressing his body flush against yours.
His hands grip the zipper of your dress, yanking it down roughly. The fabric pools at your feet, leaving you standing there in your panties and bra. You catch your breath, eyes wide as his hungry gaze roams over you.
He bends you forward over the counter, one hand steadying your waist. Then, with a ruthless flick, he shoves your panties down, tearing them in the process.
You gasp sharply, “Yoongi!”
“I’ll buy you new ones.”
His fingers already dig inside you, rough, stroking deep and fast. You moan his name, your body arching involuntarily against the counter.
He curls his fingers, pressing that perfect spot inside you while his thumb rubs fiercely over your clit. The sensations swirl and crash through you. Your fingers tangle into his long hair, nails scraping against his scalp as you moan his name, breathless and desperate.
His free hand grips your thigh, keeping you spread open for him. You can’t control the soft cries that slip past your lips, but the sound only makes him work you harder.
Biting down on his shoulder, you try to muffle your moans, he growls, hands gripping your jaw, forcing you to meet his eyes. “My little slut, aren't you” he hisses, voice dripping with raw possession. “Always soaking wet for me.”
Your moans grow louder, trembling on the edge. He pulls his fingers out abruptly, leaving you aching and desperate.
“Get on your knees.”
Your legs are wobbly but you obey without hesitation.
He unzips his pants, the sight of him already driving you wild. His cock stands hard and proud, and you feel a fresh rush of heat flood your core.
Yoongi’s gaze never leaves you as he grips himself slowly stroking that make your breath catch.
He cups your chin with another hand tilting your head up.
“Open.” Yoongi leans in, spitting into your mouth. You swallow instinctively, meeting his gaze with a mix of submission and desire.
“Good girl.”
Yoongi’s gaze burns down at you, eyes sharpening as they lock onto yours. His fingers slide under your chin, tilting your face up like you belonged to him, because you fucking do.
“You know the safe word, right?”
You swallow hard, nerves and need tangling together as you nod.
He pushes forward, sliding into you with a deliberate force that took your breath away.
His hand finds your hair, fingers threading firmly through the strands, pulling you closer. “Look at you,” he growls under his breath, his hips rolling deeper. “Taking me so well.”
His lips part in a guttural groan, head tilting back.
“Fuck...” he breathed out, voice ragged, “That mouth is made for me, yeah.”
He was claiming you with every thrust, every touch, every breath, and you knew you were exactly where you belonged.
Your throat tightens further with each controlled roll of his hips, the stretch forcing little whimpers from you.
A choked gag slips out as he sinks deeper.
You blink up through watery lashes, lips stretching around him as you look up at him, cheeks flushed, eyes glassy.
His own gaze burned into yours.
“Fuck,” he hisses, slipping his cock out.
You gasp at the loss, lips swollen.
You let out a soft, startled sound as he hoists you up onto the cool counter, your back hits the mirror behind the vanity, and Yoongi stands between your thighs.
His palm slide up the inside of your thigh, forcing them open wider.
He drags the swollen head of his cock along your folds, slick with your arousal. His other hand came to your jaw. One deep thrust and you cry out his name, and Yoongi captures it in a messy kiss.
Your gasp was sharp, ripped straight from your lungs as he bottomed out inside you, the stretch making your eyes squeeze shut—but Yoongi didn’t let you hide.
His body was pressed tightly between your thighs, the sound of skin meeting skin echoing in the steamy glass.
“Look at you,” he growls, thrusting hard, “Fucking dumb on my cock.”
You whimper in response.
“You think anyone else could fuck you like this?” he hisses, lips brushing your ear.
You shook your head frantically, tears finally slipping down your cheeks, “N-No, Yoongi—only you.”
“That’s right,” he growled, pace unrelenting. “You’re mine. This sweet little pussy, all mine."
He grabs your thighs, hoisting you closer to the edge as his thrusts turns downright brutal.
Your head falls back with a sobbed moan, mouth open, drool trailing from the corner of your lips as your walls clenched tighter.
“I—Yoongi, I’m close,” you gasp, voice high and wrecked, each breath punched out of you with the way he slams into you over and over, your thighs trembling around his hips.
Of course he knows. He feels the way you’re fluttering around him, pulling him in, desperate to tip over.
“Not yet,” he growls, voice rough in your ear.
You let out a broken sound, frustration spilling into a sob, your nails digging into his shoulders. But he’s already pulling out, your body twitching from the sudden emptiness.
Yoongi grabs your waist and slides you off the counter.
Your legs barely hold you up as he spins you around, your palms splayed on the mirror, your cheek flushed against the surface. His hand guides your hips back, arching you until you’re right where he wants you.
One ruthless thrust that has your eyes flying open, a loud, helpless moan spilling from your lips. “Fuck,” you cry out, your breath fogging the mirror. “Yoongi—”
His mouth finds your neck, teeth sinking into your skin with a sharp bite that has you clenching around him instantly.
He groans at that, sucking a mark into your skin.
“Mine,” he snarls against your throat.
His hand slides up your chest, your sternum and closes firmly around your throat. His body is burning against yours, muscles tense, heat radiating between you.
“Open your eyes,” he growls.
Your lashes flutter. You look wrecked. Your gaze meets his through the mirror. Yoongi's dark eyes locked onto you, jaw clenched as he rasps against your ear.
“The only Min you’ll ever get is this one.”
You clench around him so hard it makes both of you groan. Your legs buckle, body begging to come undone.
“You wanna come, baby?” he whispers. “Say it.”
The grip on your throat sends heat straight through you. You nod, trembling, as your voice cracks, “Y-Yes, Yoongi please—”
His free hand slides down your front, trailing between your thighs, already soaked and trembling and finds your clit.
Your moan was filthy, echoing off the walls. You couldn't even try to bite it back.
If anyone was outside the door, there’d be no doubt about what was happening in here. The obscene sounds of his hips slamming into you, your cries, was undeniable. Yoongi didn’t care. In fact, it only spurred him on. “Louder,” he hissed into your ear. “Let them fucking hear who owns you.”
His fingers moved in merciless, dragging you faster toward the edge than you could handle.
You couldn’t breathe.
You couldn’t think.
Your body trembled so hard it was barely standing, your palms slipping on the mirror as you braced yourself, tears sliding down your flushed cheeks. His cock pounded into you, filling you so deep you swore you felt him everywhere.
You sobbed out his name, gasping.
And Yoongi was right there, mouth at your ear, voice low and dark as sin.
“Come for me, baby. Ruin this mirror. Ruin yourself."
Your orgasm hits you so intense it robs you of breath. Your body locks up, trembling hard around him, and you scream his name like it’s the only word you know, your voice shattering under the force of it. Your walls pulse around him, clenching with desperate rhythm, and he groans.
“Fuck, that’s it,” he growls through clenched teeth, hips crashing against you one final time. “All mine.”
He buries himself deep spilling inside you with a broken curse.
His forehead drops against the side of your head.
Tears stream down your face from the overwhelming release, legs barely holding you upright.
His cock still twitches inside you.
He slips out of you carefully, catching your body as it slumps forward, cradling you against his chest. His hand rubs soothing circles over your bare back.
“Shhh,” he murmurs, voice hoarse, lips brushing your temple. “You did so fucking good. I got you.”
Your tears wet his neck as you try to calm down. His thumb brushes your cheek, catching the tear trails.
“You okay?” he asks quietly.
You nod, sniffling as he’s rubs your back.
“I might intentionally piss you off sometime if it gets you like this.” You manage to speak after a moment.
You feel him pause for a second. Then a dangerous chuckle rumbles from his chest, as he looks down at you.
Those dark eyes flicker with something primal, half warning, half promise.
He brushes his thumb over your bottom lip, as leans in.
“Don’t tempt me,” he murmurs, eyes locked on yours. “Because you know I’ll fucking ruin you all over again.”
Your thighs clench involuntarily. When Min Yoongi says that, you know he means it.
being a fan of suits is the funniest thing ever bcs u will see a banger edit that has INSANE marvey vibes and the editor is the biggest alpha male dude
Kinks: insinuations that he spoils her rotten <3, lingerie kink, making him jealous on purpose and he knows it, sexting, getting him riled up only to deny him, buff!Taehyung working out to build off steam, he is taller than her, he pretends to be angry with her cause she’s into it, choking (f.receiving), hair pulling (f.receiving), spanking, praise, he calls her ‘brat’ like twice, strength kink, pussy rubbing over clothes, there are yoga pants involved and he just- fuck read for yourselves, he might be rough with her but this is so so consensual, just so you know you will all feel edged after this story :)
Wordcount: 2.3k
a/n: i’m not one to kink shame but the fact that you didn’t choose penetrative sex or oral ruined me omfg oh lord i feel like you were trying to edge me with this :’) i wanted to make him eat her out from behind and then fuck her into a creampied mess and yet i had to stop before that could happen </3 heartbreak would be easier to bear JFJADSFJ no but seriously, obviously i’m not actually mad hehe you choose what you feel comfortable with and i’ll work with it <3 love you baby <3 also, i need Tae to be rough with me tbfh ps: i saw that you wanted the bedroom but I thought of tae in the gym and had to write it there, forgive me my creative freedom JFJADSFJ
You have been pushing his buttons today. At first he thought that it was his fault, that perhaps he woke up on the wrong side of the bed today and you weren’t actually trying to annoy him. But then he saw the way you eyed him when he supposedly wasn’t looking and he knew that he wasn’t imagining it. He began enjoying it then, increasing his act of annoyance for your pleasure.
You have been surprisingly quiet for a while now however and Taehyung starts to wonder if he imagined it after all. Maybe he was grumpy and you were entirely innocent. Oh goodness, what if you are quiet right now because his acts of annoyance made you insecure? Shit, did he misunderstand the situation?
His music turns off. Taehyung lifts his head, lowering the dumbbells for now. You entered the home gym, dressed in tight yoga pants and a sports bra. The bra just so happens to open in the front with a zipper. The music turns back on, except that it is your music playing.
Taehyung stands up from the bench, smiling lopsidedly with his tongue in his cheek. He definitely didn’t misunderstand the situation, you are still very much trying to push his buttons.
“What are you playing at now?” he asks.
“Nothing. Just didn’t like the music.”
“Yeah?” His eyes follow you as you strut to the warm up section. “Well, it just so happens that I liked it.”
You get on all fours to do some yoga stretches. Taehyung gawks at your ass, because you clearly are not on this mat for stretches. This is just another part of your plan to make him lose his mind.
“Really? But it was so bad.”
Taehyung tenses his jaw, lowering his eyes at you. Fuck, it’s driving him insane.
It all started when you strutted around the bedroom this morning, dressed in nothing but his favourite set of lingerie. Which you never do. You did your hair and make-up in it, sitting on the vanity chair at an angle which really showed off your ass. Which you never do. All while you told him about the “weird” co-worker who stared at you yesterday. Which you never do because you know it makes him jealous. It was an act. It made him crazy for you and you proceeded to haunt his mind during work. He imagined how it would have been if he gave in and bent you over that vanity. How it would have been if he slid those panties to the side and drilled your pussy until you were dripping with him. How it would have been if he fucked the brat out if you until you were cock obedient again.
But alas, he didn’t act on his urges and you made him pay the price by torturing him from afar all day. You sent him selfies, talked about how you regret wearing the panties because they rub your pussy when you walk, proceeded to send him more selfies and an update that you couldn’t take it anymore and you went commando. Taehyung swears that he wanted to quit work just so he could get to your work place and fuck you in the broom cabinet.
But alas, he couldn’t and he had to wait until he came home. Which made him realise that you were still scheming. He came home to dinner and you in your work clothes chatting to some of your colleagues. Taehyung’s desires to take you against the kitchen counter or on the dining table had to wait and he had to enjoy a faux friendly dinner with you and your stupid colleagues.
You left him to clean the kitchen, excusing yourself on a walk around the block. You were gone before Taehyung could retaliate. And he decided to built off steam by working out.
Which takes this story to the current moment. You arching your back in a downdog position while you hold eye contact in the mirror.
“Seriously, what are you fucking playing at today?” he hisses.
You finish your stretch, sitting up sensually.
“What do you mean?”
“First, you walk around in my favourite set, then you make me jealous with your stupid co-worker story, then you send me selfies and talk about going commando. I come home, wanting to fuck you senseless only to realise that you invited said co-worker and some for dinner. And now this. What is your fucking plan?”
You turn on the mat, giving him innocent puppy eyes.
“You wanted to fuck me?” you ask, fluttering your lashes.
“Oh, shut up. I know exactly what you’re playing at.”
“Shut up?” you ask, making sad eyes at him.
Taehyung closes the distance and falls to his knees. He grabs your cheeks with three fingers, forcing you to look into his dark eyes.
“I’m sorry mon amour, but the time to be kind to you is over. I told you to shut up and I meant it.”
You moan softly, pressing your legs together. You touch his strong chest.
“I don’t wanna shut up.”
“Yes.” Taehyung slides his hand to your neck. “Yes, you do. You fucking need it.”
Pressure on your veins. Dizziness, bliss, warmth. Your head blurs, you feel like floating. He scans his darkened eyes over your face and tits.
“I don’t get you. I treat you so well, I buy you everything could ever wish for, I fuck you until you’re unable to walk and yet you treat me like this.”
The pressure on your veins grows, your pleasure grows with it. He licks his lips, tongues his cheek lazily.
“Huh? What am I doing not enough of, mon amour?”
He tilts your head closer, letting you taste a kiss which he never truly feeds you. You have to be happy with the flavour of his words and the ghost of his breath. You feel high because of it, soaking up every word.
“Do I need to take you out more? Buy out more stores for you? Or have I simply not fucked you hard enough lately?”
Closer. His lips brush yours. You moan and slide your hands to the back of his neck, twisting his hair. If he keeps holding your neck hostage like this, you will never be the same again. It feels so good.
“What’s it, mon amour? Time, money or sex?”
“You”, you croak out.
He cocks his brow up, “me?”
“You. I need more of you.”
“And you gotta act like that all day? All you had to fucking do was ask.”
“Could I? I haven’t been a priority to you in ages.”
He scoffs and moves away. You and he both know that this was a lie. He fucking spoils you rotten. There is nothing that is missing. Both physically, emotionally and materialistically. You are spoiled beyond comparison and he knows that you are aware of it. This is, yet again, another part of your bratty plan to get a punishment.
“Hah”, he lets out and scoffs again. He lets go of your throat, sitting back on the weight bench next to the mat. He spreads his legs for it, giving you total view of his crotch in those tight grey sweats of his’. “Now you are just being a fucking brat.”
You bite down on your lower lip, looking proud of yourself. It almost makes him break his character. You are so adorable when you’re being proud of yourself. But he has to be stronger than his fluttering heart.
“But you’re aware of that, aren’t you?”
You nod your head, scooting closer to him in anticipation.
Taehyung scans you from head to toe. You have your thighs pressed together and your hands folded on your lap. You are so pretty. He falls in love with you over and over again each day.
He leans back, nodding his head at his own lap.
“Get on here before I run out of patience.”
You stand up and sit down. He stops you before that could happen however, holding your wrist tightly.
“You and I both know that this isn’t what I meant. Get on my lap like the brat you are.”
You mewl, following his order embarrassingly well. Listen, all you wanted all day was to be spanked. Can one blame you for your sudden obedience when it meant you are getting what you wanted? Of course not. You are just a woman after all. A woman with the hottest boyfriend on earth.
You lay down on his lap, stomach first and ass in the air. Taehyung purrs in contentment, running his big hands over your hips and ass.
“There we go. You did something right”, he praises and slides his hand between your legs to rub your pussy over your pants. He does it mindlessly, as if he wasn’t actually doing it, but you are so riled up at this point that it makes your knees buckle.
You gasp and moan, chasing his touch which doesn’t seem to end.
“You’re so pretty on my lap, mon amour”, he rasps, dancing his other hand to your hair. He grabs a bundle of it and tilts your head back.
The tug burns, dragging a moan from your lips. Your eyes meet your own reflection, forcing another moan out of you. You look so owned. It's perfect. He smirks at you in the mirror.
“Don’t you agree?”
You try to nod your head as best as his tight grip allows you. It increases the burn of your scalp and the warmth between your legs. Taehyung makes it even hotter with his long fingers on your pussy. He keeps contact, sliding his thumb to your rim. He presses down, forcing you to gasp and flinch. He doesn’t let you flee, pulling you back by your hair.
“A-ah”, you let out, mouth falling open and hips rutting back into his hand.
“So pretty”, he purrs, licking his lips sensually, “and so wet. Fuck, if there weren’t these stupid pants between my hand and you…” he trails off, running is eyes along your body. He purrs to himself and lets go of your hair because he clearly is planning to do something.
You keep your head lifted, watching him with a racing pulse.
Taehyung grabs bundles of the fabric, twists and rips it by the middle seam. His arms and chest bulge and flex as he does it. Your legs shake. Within a few seconds, you are bare and your pants are ruined. Your ass and pussy are on completely display, your thoughts are a mess.
“No panties. Of course. I didn’t expect anything else from you”, he spits and connects his hand with your freshly exposed ass.
You yelp up in surprise, knees buckling and stomach knocking into his lap. He really made sure that the spank would hurt, giving you no time to recover by landing another spank on your tender flesh.
It burns and hurts, dragging his name from your tongue in a needy mewl. A third spank forces your head to drop.
“Hey! Look at yourself”, he barks, dragging your head up by your hair. He keeps a tight grip on it afterwards, staring deep into your hazy eyes as his other hand spanks your tender ass.
You moan and sob at the same time, dripping on the floor because you feel so goddamn fucked. His eye contact, his rough handling, his punishing hands; all of it feels like he is making angry love to you and it’s fucking spiritual.
He practically makes himself into your god with two consecutive spanks on your ass, following it with his fingers dragging themselves through your folds and over your hole. They don’t linger. He simply grabbed you with enough possessiveness that his fingers slipped to your heat naturally and as he pulled back for another spank, they gave you a glimpse of heaven.
“Please”, you beg because of it, lifting your hips in sync with him striking you again. It knocks your knees back into the ground, making you convulse on him because this one really burns so deep. You scrunch your face, sobbing his name.
Taehyung smiles proudly, breaking eye contact to look at your exposed heat instead.
“Mhhhhhm amour”, he purrs, smirk morphing into a dark, taunting smile, “you’re leaking down your thighs.” He drags his fingers through the mess and licks it off.
“Tae please”, you beg, leaking even more.
He moans sensually, ending his tasting with a bop of his lips.
“So sweet. It’s a shame that you don’t deserve my mouth tonight”, he says and spanks you surprisingly.
“Ah!” you scream and tremble, reaching up to grab his strong under arm. The zipper of your sports bra opens just enough to give him view of your squished tits. They sit so prettily in the tiny piece of fabric.
Taehyung feels the need to spank you for it. Once. Twice. Thrice. Four times and a fifth because you whimpered so sweetly with the fourth one. He spreads you afterwards with one hand. His fingers are long – and strong – enough to do so easily. Your pussy and rim are throbbing around nothing, glistening in your juices. It takes everything inside him not to stuff you with his fingers and cock at the same time.
“Breathe for me”, he tells you, watching in delight how breathing makes your empty holes clench and flutter. “Shit. So sexy”, he says and spanks you.
One.
Two.
Three.
You yelp and twitch with each spank.
Four.
You collapse into him, spilling tears. The way your body hangs over his lap, weak and slack, lets him know that he truly broke you. A few more spanks and you would orgasm. One touch to your pussy and you would do it even sooner.
“Perfect. This is perfect”, he says and twists his hand deeper into your hair. He tugs, forcing you to kneel.
You follow him barely, spilling tears from the intense tug. But what truly makes you cry is the emptiness between your legs. You need him so much.
“You’re prettiest when you’re like this”, Taehyung says and steps closer.
You reach for him, opening your mouth like a starving animal. He simply scoffs in amusement and walks past you.
Kinks: clothed sex (he doesn’t bother to undress before he joins her), he wears a suit, cunnilingus, body worship, praise, good girl kink, vaginal fingering, slight strength & muscle kink, blowjob, edging (m.receiving), vaginal penetrative sex, multiple orgasms (f.receiving), creampie, mentions of having dirty fantasies all day, he is so obsessed with her, cuddly & loving aftercare
Wordcount: 3.2k
a/n: at some point, all i could picture was Nanami in the hair pulling scene like this is how i pictured Joon to look in his wet shirt jdjfaj make with this information what you want. i also notice a pattern with my Joon girlies, you guys really wanna see him in a shower jdfsjf
Namjoon had a long day at the office. He had interviews to hold, had lyrics to write and meetings to attend. It was an exhausting, tiring day, but that all starts to lessen the moment the apartment door falls in its lock behind him.
“Honey, I’m home!” he calls out and begins taking off his outside clothes.
You don’t come running to greet him, which wasn’t such a surprising thing to happen, but this evening he is sad about it. It would have cheered him up a lot to be greeted by you. But alas, he has to wander through the house in search for you. Your hobby room is already cleaned up for the day and you laid out a few restaurant menus for dinner. Namjoon flips through the options, deciding on a jjajangmyeon place in the end. He leaves his bag by the dining table and calls out for you again.
You don’t answer him, but he is starting to get a gist of where you are. His latest album is playing from the direction of the bathroom. Namjoon smiles as he makes his way to you. You like to deny it but Namjoon always calls you his biggest fan. There are too many occasions where he comes home to you listening to his music and it always does something to him. Tonight it makes him crave every breath you take and every syllable you could ever mutter.
He knocks.
“Joon, is that you?” you call out and turn the music down.
“Yes, it’s me baby”, Namjoon confirms, “I know you’re showering right now, but can I come in?”
“It’s open.”
Namjoon slips into the bathroom, letting the door fall closed. You turned off the water for now, spreading soap on your skin. The air smells floral and good. Namjoon inhales deeply, feeling his chest lighten. This is your scent.
“Hey there baby, how was your day?” you ask him.
“I’m just glad that it’s over. I had to deal with too many fucking idiots.”
“I’m sorry to hear this. Do you wanna talk about it?”
He shakes his head, “just keep showering, I’m okay just looking at you.”
You chuckle, “okay, if you say so”, you say and turn your back to him so you could wash off the soap. You do so with the rain shower, using the opportunity to wet your hair as well. Your eyes are closed for it so you have no idea what Namjoon is doing until you suddenly feel two hands on your waist.
You smile, turning with your hands instantly seeking his chest.
“Huh?” You open your eyes. No Namjoon in front of you. “Baby?”
“Down here.”
You look down. Namjoon is kneeling in front of you, still dressed in his office suit which is now getting wet. He also didn’t bother to take off his glasses, looking up at you past their foggy, watery lenses. His clothes are already sticking to his sculpted body, especially around his chest and arms the fabric is stretching.
“What are you doing? You’re getting your clothes wet”, you gasp and try to turn the water off.
“I’m already wet, just let me have a taste, baby. Please”, he begs.
“Do you mean that?” your heart is racing.
“Yes, please. All I thought of today was you. You kept me sane as much as you drove me crazy. I want you so much I can barely breathe.”
“Holy fuck, Joon”, you get out. You reach out to at least take off his glasses, placing them on the soap stand for now. Then you nod your head.
“Thank you. Baby, holy fuck”, he moans and pulls you closer. He connects his puffy lips with your lower stomach, kissing every inch of it while his masculine hands are running along your back.
You are terribly sensitive on your stomach so having him kiss you with such devotion is making your skin feel electric. You sigh his name, gasping each time he sucks on your skin gently.
“You smell so good. I’m addicted to you, baby”, he purrs in this terribly deep and seductive voice of his’. He dances his nose over your skin until his lips are on your hip bone. You are especially tender there and Namjoon worships it with eager kisses and languid licks.
“Joon, this”, you get out, following it with a quiet moan. If he wasn’t holding you in his strong arms like this, you would already crumble.
Namjoon purrs and kisses a way to your other side to repeat what he did. He wants you to feel worshipped everywhere, not one ounce of your perfect body should feel left out. The thought of holding you, touching you, was everything that kept him going today. He spoke of new music and answered the tiring questions of the uncreative interviewers with utter professionalism, but in his mind he was undressing you and making you arch your back. He listened to the egotistical, greedy ideas of the company and tried to redirect them in the most respectful of ways, but in his mind he was burying his fingers in your warm walls and making you scream his name. You were the very thing that kept him going today, so he truly wants to savour you now that he finally truly has you.
He lifts his lips from your well-loved skin, making himself taller by lifting his butt from his feet. His tender hands dance up your back as he goes, his eyes never leave your face. Once he truly straightened up, he reaches you just under your breasts, resting his chin against the spot.
“My motherfucking muse”, he says, voice vibrating in his chest.
You smile, although drunkenly, and run your fingers through his wet hair. It sticks to his face so prettily, glides through your fingers like it was made to be touched by you. Namjoon closes his eyes and smiles, body tingling from the touch.
“Yeah, you seriously are”, he decides in a raspy whisper, moving his head to kiss your upper stomach. He slides his hands to your sides, guiding them down as he kisses a trail to your heat.
“Joon, oh god”, you croak, chasing his lips needily. You really want him to use his mouth on your aching pussy. You can’t take much more.
“What do you need, my baby?” he asks, voice tickling your skin.
“Your mouth, please.”
“Mhhm, you’re so sweet when you beg for me”, he lulls, fulfilling your wish gladly. He tilts his head back and connects his mouth with your heaven. He parts you with the help of his tongue by flicking it through your folds slowly and with thought behind his movements. The way you sigh his name and grip his hair is so fucking addicting. The way you close your eyes and tilt your head back will always be his most favourite view.
When you are like this, he wants to make you feel so good. He exists just for your pleasure, feeding on your every reaction.
He connects his fingers with your pussy, massaging your entrance while his tongue circles your clit.
“Yes, please”, you beg, hips stuttering in anticipation.
Namjoon pushes into you, moaning with you as he fills you out. So warm and soft. The real sensations will always be so much better than any fantasy ever could. Namjoon closes his eyes, purring your name as his tongue makes sweet love to your clit. He pumps his fingers in and out of you carefully, helping you get used to having him with you again.
“Joon, please don’t stop”, you croak, dropping your back against the shower wall just so you can arch it. You lift your right leg and put it over his shoulder, keeping him closer like this. You open up so much better for him and Namjoon takes it eagerly. He growls into you, lips and tongue working together to devour your sweet clit while his fingers curl inside you in search for your favourite spot. He knows your body blindly, so it only takes him a moment before he has you arching your back again as you moan his name, walls throbbing round his long digits.
“There, Joon”, you whimper, twisting his hair.
Namjoon growls into you, curling his fingers right where you need it most. Your clit is throbbing under his tongue, growing in size. He swears that he feels high. You are so sweet and so hot.
He drops his other hand from your waist and begins rubbing himself over his soaked slacks. His cock is so hard and swollen, twitching into his palm as he tries to make it easier to bear. His mind is running wild with fantasies of you. He is taking you against the wall, bending you over and taking you from behind, carrying you as the water soaks you and it’s driving him insane. His mind is his own worst enemy and he only realises that he began taking out his frustrations on you when you wail up with shaking knees.
“This is making me cum! Joon! Please!”
Namjoon comes back to reality. His fingers picked up speed, making angry love to your cunt and his mouth is making out with your clit sloppily. He became a little rough with you, bringing you close like this.
Namjoon growls because that is all he can do and keeps the rhythm going, rubbing himself faster as well. He peels his eyes open, keeping you pinned in a dark, hungry look.
“Namjoon! Ah!” you moan and arch off the wall, grabbing his head with both hands and closing your leg around him tighter as you break on his fingers.
Namjoon helps you through it with a dizzy head and his cock throbbing in his slacks. By the way you shake and scream, it is one of the more intense ones. He loves them because of how fucking honest they are. Not that you ever have to fake your orgasms with him. Namjoon plays your body as well as he plays his fucking music, he pays attention to you as well as he does to the words he writes. You are his most beloved artwork and the one he takes care of the very best. Orgasms with him are never fake, but damn, sometimes they’re just so intense you swear you pass out for a second.
This right now is one of those orgasms and as it dies down you have to tug him off of you because you were just too sensitive.
“Break please, too much”, you beg.
“Mhm good girl”, he lulls, redirecting his lips to kissing your inner thigh and his fingers to hold your leg.
“You are so mean. Why did you make me cum like this?” you whine, panting heavily.
Namjoon lets out one of his deep chuckles, smirking against your skin, “because your pleasure is important to me. You know that it is.”
“You’re gonna be the death of me one day”, you say and chuckle breathily, “fuck.”
“Mhm, yeah”, he purrs and sets down your leg carefully. He begins standing up, kissing a path up your body as he does until he is face to face with you. He cradles your cheeks, pulling you into a kiss. Just by the way his lips move against yours and how he can’t seem to stay quiet, you know that he is still hungry for more.
You break the kiss, giggling when he chases you needily.
“Do you want more?”
“Can you take more?”
“What a question, Joonie”, you say, playing with his hair.
“Fuck baby”, he sighs, dropping his forehead against yours, “I want you like I want coffee in the morning.”
“Mhm, my poet”, you purr playfully and drop to your knees.
“What are you doing?” he gasps, knees buckling as he watches you open his slacks. You tug them over his butt together with his briefs. His cock jumps free, slapping his stomach and making him moan in relief. The volume of his sounds grows as you sink him into your mouth a second later.
“Wait woah”, he yelps, gripping your head with both hands, “wait, wait, wait. Stop.”
You let him pull you off, allowing your drool to drip out of you.
“Don’t do that”, he hisses.
“Why not?”
“Because I’m too sensitive.”
You giggle, melting his heart with the sound of it, “and? Just try not to cum too soon”, you say and take him back inside. You make puppy eyes up at him, moaning around his cock and bopping your head back and forth.
Namjoon scrunches his face, wobbling so much that he ends up having to seek support on the wall. His arm tenses, stretching the fabric of his shirt. His wet hair hangs into his face like this, the water trickles down his big body. You mewl because of the view, sliding your hand to his balls to play with them as you fuck his cock with your throat. When you are like this with him, you have no gag reflex, no desire to breathe. Everything you exist for and need is his cock deep in your throat.
“Fuck baby, you’re too much”, Namjoon lulls, deep voice even deeper. He pets your head gently, scrunching his nose and following it with an angry, “fuck.”
You mewl, sliding off of him enough that you can circling your tongue around him as you suck him greedily. The combination of your wet tongue and the intense sucking, makes his knees buckle.
“Shit baby”, he curses, dropping his other hand on the tiles as well. He falls to his elbows, head hanging between his arms and lips parted as the deepest moans roll of his tongue. He can’t even look at you anymore, eyes squeezed shut and brows tightened.
He turns you on so much. You massage his balls needily, sinking more of him back into your willing mouth. You have so much drool inside you that his girth fucks it out of you, forcing it to drip down your chin. You don’t mind the mess when it means making Namjoon moan like this.
“Baby, you’re too much”, he purrs, hips twitching each time you bottom out. It feels so good. All he fantasised about today was you and how it would be to pleasure you. His own body fell short in his fantasies, so to have you suck his cock like this, overwhelms him in the best way possible. You are so warm, so soft and so fucking sloppy. He could cum in your mouth, he knows you would like that. He would just have to let go, to give in, to give up control over his body. He could do it. Right now. Just do it.
“No baby, don’t”, he stops you, pulling you off his aching cock.
“Why?” you mewl, pouting at him. Your lips are puffy from use, your nose is a little snotty.
“I can’t cum in your mouth.”
“Yes, you can. Please”, you say and stick out your tongue.
“No, baby”, he denies you, cradling your cheek, “stand up.”
You obey his order, letting him pull you to your feet just by holding your cheek. He presses you against the wall, keeping one arm around you. Like this, you rest on it while he finds support by leaning his elbow against the wall.
“Put your leg around me.”
You obey.
“That’s it. Keep looking at me.”
“Joon”, you whimper, having to writhe as his cock breaches your dripping cunt.
“Keep looking at me, baby. Keep fucking looking at me.”
“Joon oh god.”
“Hurts?”
“No, just…gonna cum on your cock again. Feels so good.”
“Mhm, it does. Baby, your pussy is where I fucking belong”, he purrs and bottoms out. He picks up a passionate, deep rhythm instantly, tasting your moans and feeling you shake, “that’s where I’m supposed to pump my fucking load. Deep inside you, claiming you, making you mine. Fuck baby, all I thought of today was fucking you deep and slow.”
“Joon”, you whimper, hands unable to decide whether you want to clutch his broad shoulders or twist his hair.
“Keep moaning my name like this, good girl. What a fucking good girl you are”, he purrs, making hot love to you with his eyes just as much as he does with his perfect cock. The way he has you angled and how he pulls you closer with each thrust, allows his tip to fuck against your g-spot each time he bottoms out. Your clit rubs against his stomach like this and sometimes when you arch your back, your nipples rub against his clothed chest. If there is one word to describe how he makes you feel it would be enchanted because every single fiber of you exists for him and his magic touch.
“I’m yours”, you croak, fingers finally gripping his hair to twist it. You cannot take it any other way.
“You are, baby. Mine. All mine to fuck and fantasise about and fucking love. Mine. My woman”, he rasps, fucking into you in deep, long strokes with each word. It shakes you, ruins you to the very core. You thought that his mouth and fingers are your damnation but you were wrong. This is it. Sensitive from you first orgasm, riled up from sucking his cock and now cradled against his strong body as he pumps his cock into you, you find your second orgasm of the evening.
You sob into him, clutching him for dear life while he holds you safely. His hips never slow down, helping you reach highs you never thought able to reach.
“Good girl, cum on my cock. My good girl, scream my name like this, yes that’s it”, he talks you through it because he always does. If his mouth wasn’t preoccupied with making you cum, he always makes sure to make you cum with it another way. There isn’t one orgasm with him where he doesn’t talk you through your shakes and whimpers.
Tonight it makes you tense up so vigorously that Namjoon finds no strength to go on.
“Can I cum inside?” he gets out.
“Yes, please”, you whimper, hugging him tighter.
“___”, he moans and breaks, finally reaching the kind of heaven he craved for all day. He pumps into you in sloppy, quick ruts, growling into your neck and holding you against him as tightly as possible. This is everything he wanted and more and once he finally comes down, he feels shaken to the core.
He holds you, kissing whatever part of your body he can reach.
“Baby, my baby, oh my baby. I love you, I fucking missed you, oh baby. How are you? Are you okay? Did I hurt you? Fuck, I love you”, he babbles, carrying his heart on his palms.
“I love you too, baby. I feel so good and you didn’t hurt me”, you say.
“But you’re shaking, baby was I too rough?”
“No, just shaking because it was intense. And ‘cause I’m a little cold.”
“You are? Oh baby, I’m sorry. Let’s dry up and cuddle on the couch, yeah?”
“Mhm yeah”, you move your head so you can look into his eyes. You smile, wiping his hair out of his face.
He leans into the touch, feeling star struck. He is so happy to be yours.
“I can’t believe you horndog didn’t even bother to undress.”
“I was so horny, you have no idea.”
You giggle, “you’re cute.”
He smiles, “what do you think of Jjajangmyeon? I saw the menus outside.”
“Sounds amazing. They taste especially well after shower creampies.”
“Shut up”, he says, suddenly feeling shy.
“Never”, you tease, chuckling fondly as you pull him into an adoring kiss.
→ Pairing: Yoongi & Analia - Jimin & Lua ( your name )
→ AUs: non-idol, mini series
→ Genres: college & Off Campus theme
→ Warnings(s): pure smut, +21, smut, NSFW, overheard, overheard sex, two couple, thin walls, voyeurism, exhibitionism, fingering, talking through, dirty talk, orgasm encouragement, good girl, rough sex, hard sex, mention foursome, fantasizing, oral sex (m), blowjob, deep thorat, face fucking, coming on face and more.
→ Word count: 8.5K
Author Notes:
Authors Q and V are here,
This mini-series was written and inspired by a creator we love listening to on Quinn and Patreon.
On Quinn LonelyFans, and on Patreon, BedheadRecord.
Xander and Ellie.
I reckon it’s one of the best things we’ve listened to so far.
We chatted about a few ideas whilst listening, and this is what came of it.
This story was written entirely based on overheard.
You’ll be reading about something that happened between two couples.
If you don’t enjoy this sort of thing, please feel free to have a look at the other content on the page.
You could hear Jimin and Yoongi screaming at the TV. It was the semi-finals of the World Cup, and the absolute chaos radiating from the living room made it sound like the stadium was inside their house.
Your friend Analia was supposed to arrive soon. Jimin and I had convinced both Analia and Yoongi to join us this evening. A double date.
A massive roar shook the drywall, followed immediately by Yoongi yelling something entirely profane in Korean, his deep voice carrying perfectly over the announcer's rapid-fire commentary.
You leaned against the kitchen counter, stirring the pasta sauce with a wooden spoon, unable to hide the smile tugging at your lips.
The kitchen was surprisingly spotless—a rare miracle given the sheer volume of guys who lived here. Jimin had actually spent the afternoon cleaning up the usual graveyard of empty protein shakers, half-empty energy drinks, and stray hockey tape so it would be presentable for tonight. It didn't smell like a typical college dumpster fire; instead, the sharp scent of garlic and simmering tomatoes mingled with the faint, comforting undertone of clean laundry and whatever expensive woodsy cologne Jimin always wore.
"Jimin! Yah! Pass the chip bowl; he's open—no, not to the left, you idiot!" Yoongi’s voice boomed again, followed by the distinct thud of a throw pillow hitting the floor.
You walked over to the threshold of the kitchen. Jimin was sitting on the edge of the oversized leather couch, leaning forward so intensely that his elbows were resting on his knees. He wasn't dressed in his usual slouchy grey sweatpants tonight. Instead, he wore a pair of dark-wash jeans and a Dior T-shirt. His silver rings caught the glare of the TV screen as he held his beer bottle.
You leaned against the doorway frame, studying the muscles in his broad shoulders and upper arms as they flexed beneath the soft cotton shirt. Every shift and jerk of his body, every movement of his shoulders and hands, was a symphony of toned muscle and sinew.
He didn't notice you yet, too absorbed in the game. His jaw was visibly clenched, eyes locked on the screen as every second ticked by. He had this intense look you'd often seen on his face before. This was Jimin in serious mode, sharp and focused.
Yoongi was sitting next to him with his back slumped against the armrest so he could sit sideways. He was holding a beer in one hand and an empty chip bowl in the other, waving it around as he yelled at the screen.
"No, to the right, the right—"
This was when Jimin finally glanced over his shoulder. His eyes locked with yours, and his gaze softened, the intensity replaced by a hint of warmth and affection.
He mouthed something to you through the din of the game, silently asking; Are you okay?
You nodded, offering a small smile in return. You were fine. Just quietly admiring him in serious mode was all.
On the TV, players sprinted back and forth, kicking the ball across the screen. The entire room was holding its breath as the game approached the final minute of the second half.
Yoongi was leaning forward, yelling and gesticulating wildly every time his team shot towards the goal. He was completely absorbed in the game, yelling in both Korean and English and cursing at the referee at the top of his lungs.
Jimin chuckled, watching his friend's antics with a mixture of affection and amusement.
Jimin suddenly stood up, the leather couch creaking as he abandoned his spot—just as a penalty kick was about to happen. Yoongi whipped his head around, scandalized.
"Fuck! Where the hell are you—"
But Jimin was already striding toward you, completely ignoring the game now. He leaned casually against the doorframe, his body blocking the chaotic living room from view as his fingers brushed against your waist.
"Hey," he murmured, voice low enough that only you could hear over the noise.
You smirked up at him, one eyebrow raised. "You're abandoning your best friend in the middle of a crucial play?"
He grinned, the corner of his mouth curling in a half-smile that was equal parts charming and mischievous. "Nah, I have an even more critical mission. Gotta make sure you're adequately entertained."
He stepped closer, his body so close it was almost brushing against yours. His fingers were still on your waist, lightly tracing circles over the soft material of your shirt.
You leaned back against the wall, trying to appear nonchalant even as your body reacted to his proximity. You were acutely aware of the heat radiating off him, the way his T-shirt pulled taut across his chest, the scent of his cologne mixing with the familiar smell of his skin and sweat.
"And what exactly does this mission of yours entail?" you asked teasingly, one corner of your mouth tugging up in a smirk.
His gaze darkened, eyes flickering down to your lips for a brief second. "Let's just say it's something that only you can help with."
He took a step forward, closing the already minimal space left between you. You were suddenly acutely aware of how much he towered over you, how you had to tilt your head back to meet his gaze.
His fingers traced the curve of your hip, following the line where your shirt met your shorts.
You tried to ignore the way your breath hitched as his fingertips skimmed against the bare skin of your hip, leaving goosebumps in their wake. He was too damn good at this, too well aware of the effect he had on you.
You cleared your throat, trying to maintain your composure. "Shouldn't you be watching the game?"
He chuckled, a low, almost predatory sound that sent shivers down your spine. "I've got a much more interesting game right in front of me."
His hand flattened against your hip, possessive and warm. He took another step closer, trapping you against the wall. You could feel every hard plane of his body pressing against you—the curve of his chest, the ridge of his hipbones, the solid muscle of his thigh.
"Not now," you whispered. "Analia is almost here."
He hummed, his gaze flickering down to your mouth again. His thumb traced lazy circles on your hip, his touch light but undeniably deliberate.
"She won't be here for at least ten more minutes," he murmured, his voice almost a purr. "That gives us plenty of time."
His free hand reached up to brush a loose strand of hair out of your face, his fingers trailing along your jawline. The gesture was almost tender, at odds with the way his body was pressing against yours.
You shivered, powerless against the way your body reacted to his touch. God, it would be so easy to get carried away, to let him pin you against the wall right here. But you knew you had to resist.
You placed your hand flat on his chest, palm against the soft fabric of his t-shirt. "We can't. Not now. Later, after dinner."
He let out a low groan, frustration and hunger warring in his gaze. He looked like he wanted to argue, his jaw hardening into a stubborn set you recognized.
"Later feels too far away," he muttered, his hand on your hip squeezing possessively.
You could see the struggle in his eyes—the part of him that wanted to give in and the part that knew you were right. His thumb continued to trace maddeningly slow circles on your hip, as if he was trying to wear down your resistance.
"Please," he whispered, his voice rough with barely-restrained need.
You swallowed, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your belly. His plea was almost desperate, and it made something inside of you ache with desire and longing. God, you wanted to give in so badly, to surrender to the needy edge in his voice and the heat in his gaze.
But you had to hold firm. Not here, not now. You couldn't risk Yoongi walking in on something like… this.
"Later," you repeated, firmer this time. Your hand was still planted on his chest, a barrier between you and the temptation of his body.
His jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing as he struggled to control his frustration. He was never good at being denied what he wanted. Especially not when it came to you.
He took a deep breath, his hand on your hip squeezing again before letting go. He was clearly struggling to maintain his self-control.
"Fine," he growled, his voice low and rough. "But give me one kiss, Lua, please."
You knew you should say no, that giving in even a little would only make it harder to resist giving in completely. But the way he was looking at you, eyes hungry and full of need, made it impossible to refuse.
You hesitated for a moment before finally nodding. "One kiss."
He let out a low noise of satisfaction, his eyes darkening further with barely restrained desire. He stepped closer once more, his body flush against yours as he caged you in against the wall.
His hand came up to cup your jaw, his thumb brushing against your lower lip. He held your gaze, his eyes fixed on your mouth as he leaned down, his lips hovering just above yours.
You could feel your heart pounding, your body thrumming with anticipation. You wanted to lean in, to close the gap between you and feel his mouth against yours, but you forced yourself to wait, to let him be in control of the moment.
His breath was hot against your lips, his thumb tracing the contour of your chin. "Open your mouth," he murmured, his voice low and commanding.
His words sent a shiver down your spine, your body immediately obeying his command. You parted your lips, feeling incredibly vulnerable and exposed under his hungry gaze.
A smirk flickered across his face, his eyes dark with satisfaction. "Good girl…" he whispered before finally, finally, he closed the remaining distance between you, his mouth crashing down on yours.
The kiss was desperate, urgent, and overwhelming. His tongue swept into your mouth, demanding and possessive. He angled your head back, pressing you even harder against the wall as he deepened the kiss, his body molding against yours. Every line and plane of him was hot and hard and unyielding.
You could feel the tension in his body—the way he was holding himself back from completely devouring you. But even with that restraint, the kiss was intoxicating. His lips were firm, his tongue teasing, and the faint taste of beer on his breath mixed with the scent of his cologne, making your head spin.
His fingers tangled in your hair, tugging lightly to tilt your head just how he wanted it. A soft whimper escaped you before you could stop it, and you felt him smirk against your mouth.
Then, suddenly, he pulled away.
"I think your friend is here," he whispered.
It took a moment for his words to register, your mind still fuzzy from the overwhelming rush of sensations. But then you heard it—a knock at the front door, followed by a cheerful shout.
Analia.
You cursed under your breath, your heart still pounding in your chest. Jimin was watching you, a smug expression on his face. He knew what he'd done, how he'd left you all flustered and wanting.
You pushed weakly at his chest, trying to put some space between you. He chuckled, stepping back but still keeping himself close enough that you could feel the heat radiating off him.
"Go let your friend in," he said, that infuriating smirk still playing across his lips.
You shot him a glare, trying to regain your composure. "You're a pain in my ass."
His grin widened, clearly enjoying your irritation. "You love it, though."
You couldn't deny it, as much as you wanted to. God, you really did love the way he drove you insane.
Another knock rang through the house. "Lua? Are you home?" Analia's voice called through the door.
“Yoongi! Get that!!” You shouted from the kitchen. “It's her!”
You heard Yoongi move around the living room, followed by the front door opening.
You took a deep breath, trying to calm yourself enough to greet your friend. You shot one last glare at Jimin, who was still watching you with a smirk on his face.
"Stay here." you muttered, pointing a finger at him.
He just chuckled, raising his hands in mock surrender. "I'll behave, I promise."
You narrowed your eyes at him suspiciously. That promise sounded far too easy. "You better," you warned before turning toward the door, smoothing down your clothes and running a hand through your slightly tousled hair.
You took another deep breath and swung the front door open, forcing a bright smile as Analia stood on the porch, holding a bottle of wine.
"Hey! You made it!" you said, stepping aside to let her in.
Jimin chose that exact moment to casually stroll into view, looking unfairly handsome and completely unruffled.
“Hey, Analia" he said smoothly, taking the wine from her hands. "Thank you, and by the way, you know Yoongi, right?"
“Yeah,” Analia said. “Just passing by.”
Yoongi scoffed as he walked into the kitchen, and Jimin led Analia toward the living room, his hand resting casually on your lower back as if staking his unspoken claim. You suppressed a sigh, following them both into the living area.
It was going to be a long night.
The rest of the evening was… interesting. Analia and Yoongi bickered about the game. Jimin, however, was making it extremely difficult for you to focus on anything beyond him.
He seemed to constantly be finding ways to touch you—a hand on your knee, a brush up against your back, his fingers casually tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. He was trying to drive you insane, and he damn well knew it.
Yoongi suddenly threw a chip at Jimin’s head from across the coffee table, hitting him square in the temple.
“Stop eye-fucking Lua and pass the us damn dip," he grumbled, barely looking up from the game replay on the TV.
Jimin caught the chip before it hit the floor, popped it into his mouth, and smirked at you—completely unrepentant.
"You heard the man," you muttered under your breath, shoving the dip bowl into his hands. "Behave."
He grinned at your command, clearly enjoying the fact that he was getting under your skin. He dutifully passed the dip to Yoongi, his gaze never leaving your face.
"I'm behaving," he replied, his voice just a little too innocent. "I'm a perfect gentleman."
You rolled your eyes, fighting down the urge to smack him. "Yeah, sure you are."
Yoongi groaned from his spot on the couch, tearing his attention away from the TV long enough to interject. “These two have been insufferable all night,” Yoongi said. “I vote we ignore them and focus on the important things—like why the ref made that terrible call in the 78th minute."
Analia laughed.
The rest of the night devolved into a lively conversation between Yoongi and Analia, fueled by beer and the excitement of dissecting every play of the game. You found yourself occasionally chiming in, but your focus kept returning to Jimin. He was watching you from across the couch.
"Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom really quick," you murmured.
You excused yourself from the conversation and disappeared down the hall, finally finding some respite from Jimin's relentless gaze. You took your time in the bathroom, trying to calm your racing heart and focus on something—anything—other than the way his eyes had followed you so intently.
When you returned, Jimin was in the kitchen, ostensibly refilling his beer. He was leaning against the counter.
His eyes darkened the moment he saw you walk in, and he set down the beer bottle without even taking a sip.
"Come here," he whispered.
His voice was low, rough with need, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You hesitated—logically, you knew you shouldn’t go to him. But your body moved on its own, steps silent as you crossed the kitchen until you were standing right in front of him.
Jimin didn’t wait. One hand hooked around your waist, pulling you flush against him while the other cradled the back of your neck. His lips crashed into yours, hot and demanding, swallowing your surprised gasp. The kiss was all teeth and tongue, his fingers tightening in your hair as he angled your head just how he liked it.
And he pulled back.
"Ten minutes. My room," he whispered.
And without another word, he released you, casually grabbing the beer beside him and disappearing back into the living room. You stood there, reeling, as the sound of sports commentary and Yoongi's voice filled the air once more.
Ten minutes.
You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing heart and the sudden flood of anticipation and desire coursing through your veins. This was a bad idea, you warned yourself. A very, very bad idea.
You managed to rejoin the conversation, somehow acting like a normal, functioning human being while you counted down the minutes in your head. Time seemed to stretch endlessly, each glance at the clock feeling like torture. The sound of the TV and Yoongi's and Analia's voices faded into a meaningless hum as your mind fixated on Jimin and that needy look in his eyes.
Finally, finally, ten minutes passed, and you excused yourself again, mumbling a quick excuse about being tired. Your heart was pounding as you quietly shut the door to Jimin's room.
The moment the door clicked shut, Jimin moved like a predator. In two strides, he crossed the room and had you backed up against the wall, his body pressed flush against yours, both forearms braced against the wall on either side of your head.
His eyes roamed over your face, dark with hunger. "Ten minutes was a goddamn wait," he growled.
His lips trailed along your jaw, kissing and nipping at the sensitive skin, his body pinning you against the wall.
"Lift your arms."
His command was low and commanding, and left no room for protest. You obeyed, lifting your arms and feeling a shiver of excitement and anticipation run through you as his fingers gripped the hem of your shirt. He pulled it up and over your head in a single, smooth motion, discarding it on the floor next to you.
"God, I've been wanting this all night," he muttered, his gaze roaming over your exposed skin, drinking in every inch of you. His hands skimmed up your sides, leaving trails of fire in their wake. "Lock the door."
He stood back just enough to watch as you reached behind you, flicking the lock into place with trembling fingers. He smirked, clearly enjoying the effect he was having on you. He closed the short distance between you again, one hand gripping your hip while the other cupped your chin, forcing your gaze to meet his.
"You have no idea how hard it was for me to not touch you out there," he said, his voice low and rough. "You in those shorts, sitting right next to me… and having to act like I'm not going completely crazy wanting you."
He leaned in, his breath warm against your ear. "I had to sit there, watching you, and force myself not to drag you into the kitchen and take you right on the damn counter."
His grip on your hip tightened, and he pressed his hips firmly against yours, letting you feel exactly how much he wanted you. A whimper escaped you, the sudden pressure sending fireworks up your spine.
"I want to fuck you hard, baby..." he purred, his lips brushing against the sensitive skin behind your ear.
Your breath hitched as his words sent heat pooling low in your stomach. His voice was velvet and sin, that teasing lilt you loved so much now laced with something darker—something hungry. His fingers traced patterns along your ribcage, drifting lower until his thumb hooked into the waistband of your shorts.
"You're so fucking beautiful when you're trying to be quiet," he murmured, dragging his lips down your neck. "But we both know you won't stay that way."
A loud burst of laughter echoed from the living room—Analia's, bright and carefree—and your body tensed instinctively. Jimin smirked against your skin.
"They're distracted," he assured you, fingers slipping beneath fabric. "They won't hear a thing."
He ran his fingers up your inner thigh and pressed against you, and you moaned softly. The feel of his hand between your legs, the heat of his body pressing firmly against yours, was pure temptation. You felt his smirk against your neck, his fingers dipping lower, tracing lazy circles over your clit through the fabric of your shorts.
"You're already so wet for me," he murmured, his tone smug. "You've been this way all night, haven't you?"
You could only nod, your words failing you as he continued his slow, torturous exploration. His fingers slid beneath the waistband, and you choked off another moan as he finally brushed against your clit.
"Shh…" he whispered, circling your clit with a single digit. "You don't want them to hear us, do you?" He pressed a little harder, and you bit your lip, trying to muffle the needy whine rising in your throat. "That's it, baby. Be quiet."
His words were a command and a promise all at once, his tone sending shivers down your spine. He slid a finger into you, and you gasped, your head falling back against the wall. The sound of the game from the other room was suddenly too loud, a reminder of where you were, and you tensed up involuntarily, eyes darting back towards the door.
Jimin murmured something in Korean against your ear, too low for you to make the words out. He moved his hand, pulling you away from the wall and towards the bed.
He pushed you down onto the bed, your knees buckling as soon as the backs of your legs touched the mattress. Your heart was hammering against your ribs now, a mixture of excitement and nerves.
Jimin stood at the edge of the bed, watching you intently. The smirk on his face was almost predatory now, his eyes dark with unmistakable lust. He leaned over you, hands on either side of your shoulders, caging you in. Your breath caught in your throat as he leaned closer, his lips ghosting over yours. It was a taunt, a tease, and you could feel the tension crackling between you.
"You still think we should be quiet?" he murmured, his voice a low, enticing rumble.
"No." you murmured.
His smirk deepened, satisfaction flashing in his eyes. He pushed himself up, his hands moving to your hips. His fingers gripped the waistband of your shorts, and he started to pull them down, slowly, torturously.
Your eyes flickered shut as he pulled your shorts and underwear down your thighs, your body tensing when the cool air hit your bare skin. You could feel him between your legs now, his body pressed against your thighs, his hands spreading you open for him. Warm fingers brushed up your inner thigh, making your heart pound faster.
Jimin leaned forward again, his lips trailing up your neck, then your jaw. His breath was hot against your ear, and you could feel the roughness of his five o'clock shadow against your skin. He was so close, so close, and yet he kept teasing you, prolonging the tension until you thought you'd explode.
"Open your eyes." he murmured.
Your lids flew open, your gaze locking with his. His eyes were molten, dark with need that mirrored your own. He leaned in closer, his voice a low rasp.
"Look at me." he murmured, and his fingers pressed against your clit. Your head fell back against the sheets, a moan escaping before you could stop it.
"Ah ah." he chided, his fingers pausing their movements. "Look at me. I want to see those pretty eyes."
You forced yourself back up, meeting his gaze. The look in his eyes was intense, possessive, as he watched you struggle to keep eye contact. His fingers started to move again, circling your clit in a maddeningly slow rhythm.
"Good girl." he murmured, his voice a low rumble. "Keep looking at me."
You whimpered, desperately trying to keep your eyes on him. He kept up his steady, languid strokes, his fingers circling your clit in a slow, deliberate rhythm that was designed to drive you wild. Every move he made was calculated, meant to tease and tantalize, and your body was responding eagerly. Your hips involuntarily rocked against his hand, seeking more pressure, more friction, but he tsked at you.
"Ah ah, don't move." he murmured, pressing his free hand against your hip to hold you still.
He continued his slow, torturous pace, and the silence in the room was suddenly punctuated by your moans and gasps, so loud in the quiet of the room. You could hear the echo of the TV through the wall, the sound of Analia's and Yoongi's voices muffled through the thin plaster.
Jimin leaned forward, his tongue grazing your neck, his breath hot against your ear. "You're being louder than the game." he murmured, a smug edge to his voice.
You moaned again, a strangled sound caught between frustration and pleasure. Your hips jerked involuntarily again, and his hand on your hip gripped tighter, holding you still.
"Oh god, please Jimin," you gasped out, your fingers clenching in the sheets. "I need—"
Your words cut off into a whimper as he slid a finger inside of you, and he chuckled against your neck. Your head fell back against the pillows, your eyes squeezed shut. His fingers were driving you crazy, pushing you closer and closer to the edge but not quite giving you what you needed.
He curled his finger, hitting a spot that had you seeing stars. "Oh god—" you moaned, your voice loud and needy.
Jimin chuckled again, the sound muffled against your neck. His finger continued its torturous rhythm, and you could feel him smirking against your skin. He leaned more of his weight onto you, trapping you beneath him.
"You're so needy right now." he murmured. "You think they can hear you out there?" he asked, his voice low and rough.
His finger pressed deeper, and your body arched off the bed, a strangled gasp leaving your lips. You could feel him smiling against your neck, the smug satisfaction rolling off him in waves.
Through the wall, you could hear Analia and Yoongi still talking, their voices almost painfully loud now.
"You heard Analia just now?" He murmured, circling his finger and drawing out another moan from you. "She was laughing so hard. Sounds like she's having fun out there."
His voice was smug and taunting, but his fingers were relentless, driving you higher and closer to the edge.
Your hands scrambled for purchase, finding purchase in his hair and the fabric of his t-shirt. Your body was humming with pleasure, every nerve in your body on fire. You were so close, so close, and he knew it.
His fingers stilled, and you cried out in frustration, your head tossing back against the pillows.
He hummed with satisfaction, his other hand holding your legs still as you writhed beneath him. His fingers were still inside you, but they weren't moving. He was perfectly still, holding you just on the edge of release, tormenting you with withheld pleasure.
"This looks like torture." you murmured
The smugness was clear in his voice when he replied, "It is."
He leaned back, his eyes raking over you, taking in your flushed cheeks, your heaving chest, the way your hands gripped the sheets in desperation. His free hand slid up your thigh, his thumb grazing over your clit. He circled it once, twice, and your hips arched again, a strangled moan leaving your lips.
"You're dripping wet, baby." he murmured, his voice low and rough.
"Please, Jimin. Please." you begged, your voice a needy whine.
He chuckled again, the smug bastard that he was, and withdrew his finger completely. You moaned at the sudden emptiness, your body craving his touch. He leaned back, his hands moving to unfasten his belt with one hand.
His eyes never left yours, his gaze dark with a mixture of smugness and possessiveness. He slowly unbuckled his belt, the sound of the leather sliding through the metal buckle echoing in the room. He leaned back on one hand, the other undoing the button of his jeans.
He hooked his thumbs into the waistband of both his jeans and underwear, and with a swift, ungraceful movement, tugged them both down his thighs. And he gave himself a few slow, lazy strokes.
"You want this?" he murmured, his grip tightening ever so slightly. "You need this?"
His strokes grew a little faster, a smug smirk still on his face as he watched you struggle beneath him.
"Yes." You moaned, your voice desperate, needy. "God, yes."
His movements were becoming rougher, less controlled, and the cocky smirk on his face faltered for just a moment. He leaned forward, his hips shifting between your legs, but he still didn't give you what you needed.
"What the-" Analia protested, but Yoongi shushed her.
Their voices drifted through the room, the sound suddenly much louder.
"Shh, shut up. I think they are doing it?" Yoongi whispered.
There was a beat of silence, followed by the unmistakable sound of Analia's gasp.
"Oh god, they are!" she giggled, and the realization hit you like a truck. "Fuck."
Your eyes widened, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. They could hear you. Analia and Yoongi could hear everything.
Your eyes met Jimin's, and something flashed in his eyes—a challenge. He leaned down, his mouth near your ear.
"They can hear you." he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "Louder baby, drive them crazy.'"
Your heart raced as he leaned back, his hands finding your hips. He positioned himself at your entrance, teasing you with just the tip.
"Is that-" Analia asked, her voice just loud enough to be heard through the wall.
"Yeah, they are." Yoongi replied, his tone smugly triumphant.
Jimin pushed into you roughly, and a choked off gasp escaped you. Spreading you open and filling you up in one long, deep stroke.
"Oh God." you moaned, trying to keep your voice down but almost failing completely.
He moaned in response, a low, rough sound that reverberated through his chest. He began to move, his hips setting a steady rhythm. He started slow, almost torturously.
"Fuck.. They are-" you tried to say between moans, trying to remind him that they could still hear.
He smirked, not slowing his pace at all. "Let's give them a show then. Be a good girl and make lots of noise for me."
Your fingers clenched the sheets as he picked up the pace, every thrust driving you higher. The moans spilling from your lips were growing louder, more urgent. You could hear Yoongi's voice again.
"Yo, it's getting louder." he said, his tone almost a groan. "I can hear them."
Jimin chuckled, his hands clenching tighter on your hips. His thrusts became sharper, deeper, and your voice rose in volume.
The sound of skin slapping against skin filled the room. Your moans were echoing off the walls, your control on your vocal cords slowly slipping away. You could hear them more clearly now, Analia's soft gasp, Yoongi's sharp inhale. It was like he was pushing your buttons on purpose, trying to make them hear you even more.
He leaned forward, his mouth near your ear. "Listen to them." he murmured, his voice rough and low. "They know. They know exactly what I'm doing to you."
Every thrust sent waves of pleasure through your body, and your cries grew louder. You could hear more movement from the living room, the creak of the couch, the rustle of clothes.
"What do you think they're doing out there?" he murmured, his fingers clenching tighter on your hips. His pace was relentless now, each thrust driving you closer to the edge. "I bet they're jealous as hell right now."
You could barely think straight, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable intensity. You tried to form a coherent response, but all that came out were breathy moans.
He chuckled again, your reaction feeding his ego. He shifted slightly, his hips grinding against yours at a new angle and hitting that spot that made your toes curl. You cried out, the sound echoing louder through the room, and he grinned triumphant.
"Shh.. Shh.. Lua. Listen." he whispered. "Listen baby."
"Listen, what?" you whispered. "What? Fuck, don't stop."
He continued his relentless rhythm, his fingers digging into your hips. "Listen to them." he commanded. "They doing it too."
Your mind spun at his words, and you tried to focus enough to listen to the sounds coming from the other side of the wall. The moans and pants from the living room were barely audible over the sound of your own panting, but you could definitely hear them.
He leaned down, his mouth near your ear again. "Listen." he murmured, his voice a hot command. "Fuck, he is so fast."
Your head spun, and you tried to focus on the sounds coming from the living room. Even with your brain fuzzy with pleasure, you could hear it. The couch was creaking loudly now, the sound punctuated by the low curses and moans from the other side of the wall. With every noise that came from the living room, his movements became rougher, more desperate.
His hips snapped against yours with every thrust, the pleasure building to an unbearable intensity. You could hear everything from the living room, every gasp and pant and whine. It was all too much.
"Oh god." you panted. "They-"
He leaned down, his mouth near your ear. "Yes, they're listening to us too." he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "And fucking each other."
Your mind reeled at his words, and you moaned louder, unable to hold back anymore. The sounds from the living room were louder too, louder than you could have ever imagined.
"Listen her moans baby." he whispered.
You could hear it now, the undeniable sound of Analia's gasps and moans, blending with Yoongi's grunts and growls. It was loud, and it was hot.
He moaned, the sound vibrating against your neck. "Oh god, they are loud. Fuck." he ground out.
His pace was almost frenzied now, matching the frenzied sounds coming from the living room. You were both spiraling out of control, the room filled with moans and whimpers.
"God, you sound so good." he murmured, his fingers tightening their grip on your hips.
Your body was on fire, the edges of your conscious blurring. All you could do was writhe helplessly beneath him, your hips rocking against his.
The sounds from the living room were getting louder, more urgent. Their moans were blending with your own, creating a sinful symphony that filled the air. It was intense, bordering on the edge of too much.
"You like it, don't you? Showing off for them." he growled in your ear.
The words seemed to send sparks straight to your core, and you moaned obscenely. "Oh god, yes." you managed to gasp out. "Yes."
He leaned down, his lips grazing your neck. "You want to know what they're doing out there?" he murmured, his voice a seductive whisper.
You could only nod, your brain too overwhelmed to form words.
"You want to hear every little noise they're making?" His words were a dark promise, low and taunting.
“Yes.” you whimpered, the sound barely audible
He chuckled, the sound resonating through your body.
His fingers dug deeper into your hips, his pace becoming almost punishingly harsh. You could hear them just beyond the wall, their moans and cries growing louder and more desperate. Even in your delirious state, you could recognize Analia's pleading voice.
"Oh god, please. Yes. Oh god." she moaned.
Yoongi's response was guttural, a low, animalistic growl.
Jimin chuckled, his breath hot against your ear "Sounds like they're losing it." he murmured, his pace relentless. "Like us."
His hips rocked against yours, his movements urgent and frenzied. You moaned louder, your body burning with heat and pleasure.
"You wanna finish, baby?" he murmured.
You nodded desperately, your body on the brink of exploding. "God, yes."
He shifted slightly, adjusting his angle, and the sudden change sent a jolt through your entire body. You moaned, the sound echoing through the room.
He smirked, clearly pleased with your reaction. "There you go baby, there you go." His fingers dug deeper into your hips.
His thrusts became faster, more intense, and your cries grew louder. You could feel the pressure building to a near unbearable peak.
"I am coming, I am coming." you moaned.
He growled, his grip tightening on your hips. "That's it baby, let it all out."
His own movements became more erratic, more desperate. You could tell he was close too. "God, you sound so goddamn good." he growled, his breath hitching.
The sounds from the living room were reaching a peak, their moans becoming louder and louder. You could barely focus, lost in the overwhelming pleasure. Jimin’s grip on your hips was rough, his fingers bruising. You could hardly breathe, your cries escaping your mouth in a breathless stream.
"Fuck, you're close." he groaned.
His words sent another jolt through you, the heat pooling in your core almost unbearable. "Yes, God." you moaned. "Please, come with me."
You could feel him teetering on the edge, his movements becoming more frenzied. "God, you feel so good." he groaned. "Fuck, I am coming too."
He buried his face in your neck, his body trembling. And then it hit you both, waves of pleasure crashing through your body. Your voice was a hoarse cry, mixing with his guttural moans. The sounds from the living room reached a fever pitch too, their cries and pants echoing through the wall.
For a few moments, the only sound in the room was your uneven panting and the distant, echoing sounds from the other side of the wall.
Jimin slumped against you, his body boneless and spent. He was breathing heavily, his chest rising and falling against your own. Slowly, he rolled off of you, collapsing onto his back beside you.
For a moment, neither of you spoke. The only sound was the soft sound of your breathing, the room still filled with lingering tension.
Then, Jimin let out a low laugh. "God, that was… fuck."
You let out a breathy laugh too, feeling boneless and spent. "Yeah. That was intense."
Jimin turned to face you, a smug smirk on his face. "It was foursome. Kinda."
You couldn't help but laugh at his words. "Yeah, kinda. Except we weren't in the same room."
He grinned, propped up on one elbow and looking down at you. "But we could've been," he murmured.
You rolled over onto your side to face him, raising an eyebrow. "You're crazy," you said, shaking your head.
He shrugged, unrepentant. "You seemed to like it," he teased.
You couldn't argue with that. You had liked it more than you were willing to admit. But you didn't want to give him that satisfaction. "Don't even think about repeating that," you said, trying to sound stern.
He just chuckled, the smirk never leaving his face. "Oh, we'll definitely be repeating that," he said, cocky and confident.
You rolled your eyes, even though his words sent a shiver down your spine. "Yeah, right," you snorted. "In your dreams."
And they left.
You slowly start to stroke his dick. "You are still hard."
His eyes darkened, his smirk turning predatory. "Yeah, I am." he murmured, his voice rough.
His hand found yours, stopping your movements. He threaded his fingers through yours, bringing your hand up to his mouth and spitting to your palm.
You watched with wide eyes as he coated your spit-covered hand with his. "Fuck." you murmured.
He smirked again, the smug bastard. bringing your hand back down to his dick.
His grip on your hand was gentle, but firm. "Touch me." he commanded, pressing your palm against his crotch.
You moaned at the sensation of his hot, hard cock pressed against your hand. You began to stroke him, long and slow, just the way he liked it. He groaned, his head falling back against the pillow.
He shifted slightly, spreading his legs wider, giving you better access. He was moaning.
You ran your thumb over the head of his cock, circling the sensitive tip. He moaned, his hips involuntarily bucking up into your hand. He was hard and leaking, and the sight was almost too much.
God, he was a beautiful sight.
He moaned again, his eyes dark and lustful. "You're incredible." he murmured, his voice rough. "And I wasn't kidding about repeating this overheard sex shit."
His words sent a jolt through you, a mix of excitement and nervousness. But you tried to keep your cool, not wanting to give him the satisfaction. "We'll see about that." you murmured, increasing the pace of your strokes.
He moaned again, a low, guttural sound that sent a shiver down your spine. "Suck me, now."
His voice was commanding, authoritative, and you moaned at the roughness of it. You didn't bother with a response, just lowered your mouth to his cock. He moaned again as you swirled your tongue around the head, tasting him.
He moaned louder, his hand coming up to tangle in your hair. "You love my cock, don't you?" he murmured, his fingers tightening in your hair.
His words were filthy, but they only amplified the heat growing between your legs. You moaned around his cock, tasting his pre-cum.
He moaned again, his fingers tightening in your hair. "Oh god." he murmured, his voice rough. "I'm sure they'll want to do it again too."
You weren't sure if he was talking about Yoongi and Analia or you and him. But either way, you couldn't help the thrill that ran through you at the idea.
His grip was still tight in your hair, but he wasn't pushing your head down or anything. It was just enough pressure to hold you in place. "Suck me deeper." he murmured, his voice soft but still commanding.
You moaned around his cock, taking him deeper. You could feel his fingers twitching in your hair, like he was holding back from thrusting up into your mouth. You pressed your tongue flat against the underside of his cock, and he moaned loudly.
"Jesus Christ." he moaned, his grip on your hair tightening. He pulled you off his cock, leaving it wet and glistening. "Tongue out."
You obediently opened your mouth, sticking your tongue out as he had commanded. He groaned at the sight, his eyes dark and hungry. "Fuck." he murmured, his voice rough. "You're so damn hot."
He took his cock in his hand and began stroking it. and you moaned at the sight. You could feel yourself getting wet just watching him. "You want it here?" he murmured, dragging the head of his cock against your tongue.
You moaned again, unable to form a coherent response.
He chuckled at your response, the sound making you shiver. He pressed the head of his cock against your Lips again, sliding it back into your mouth. You wrapped your lips around him, swirling your tongue around the head, and he moaned again.
"God, that feels so good." he murmured, his hand tightening in your hair just enough to send a shiver down your spine again. "Can't wait to use your mouth again."
You moaned at his words, the thought of him using your mouth for his pleasure making you even wetter. You bobbed your head up and down his length, taking him as deep as possible. He moaned louder now, his grip on your hair almost painful. "Goddamn." he growled. "You're so good at this. You were made to suck my cock, weren't you?"
His words were filthy, and they were turning you on so much. You moaned again, sucking him deeper, wanting to give him pleasure that would make him fall apart.
He moaned louder, his fingers tightening in your hair again. "God damn." he repeated, his voice rougher now. "You like sucking my cock."
You moaned around him, the taste of him on your tongue making your insides swirl. You could feel him getting closer, his grip on your hair becoming almost desperate. "You're going to make me come." he growled, his voice strained. "I'm gonna come all over your mouth."
You moaned again, the thought bringing you to the edge as he continued to rock his hips against you. Your fingers tightened on his thighs, trying to keep up with the pace.
His breathing was becoming uneven, his body tensing up. "I'm... close." he panted. Suddenly, he yanked you off by your hair, flipping you onto your back. You whined at the loss of contact, but he didn't leave you wanting for long. Without a word, he straddled your chest, positioning his cock right in front of your mouth.
"Open." he ordered, his voice brooking no argument. You obeyed, opening your mouth just as he pressed the head of his cock against your waiting tongue, and oh god. He groaned deeply as he fed more of his length into your mouth.
He was completely focused on one thing now, his gaze locked onto your face as he began to thrust into your mouth. It was rough and deep, and oh god, it was so damn hot. Your hands came up to grip his thighs, trying to keep up with his pace.
"Jesus Christ." he moaned, his head falling back. "You look so pretty with my cock down your throat." he murmured, his eyes roaming over you. You moaned around him, the sound muffled and needy. He growled, his fingers tightening in your hair again.
He kept up the brutal pace, not giving you a chance to recover. Your hands were still gripping his thighs, trying to keep up with the intensity. His grip on your hair was becoming almost painful now, but you didn't care. The sounds that left his mouth were primal, and they were driving you wild. "Fuck." he growled, his voice rough.
"I'm going to come." he murmured, his thrusts becoming erratic. "You better swallow every last drop."
You moaned again, desperate for him to come. You wanted to taste him, feel him come undone in your mouth. Just the thought made you clench around nothing, your own need for release growing intense.
Suddenly, he pulled out, and you gasped for air. He moaned again, his body trembling. Before you could process what was happening, he was coming all over your face, ropes of hot come landing on your cheeks and lips.
He moaned, his eyes locked onto your face, "Jesus Christ." he murmured, his voice rough. "You look so pretty covered in my come."
You moaned at his words, feeling the warm stickiness on your face. You was still trying to catch your breath, feeling the last drops of his come on your face. You wiped it with your fingers and brought them to your mouth, cleaning them off. Jimin watched you intently.
"Holy hell." he murmured, his fingers still tangled in your hair. "You are so goddamn sexy." His chest was heaving with labored breaths, his body still trembling. "Kiss me, come here.'
You sat up, crawling towards him on your hands and knees. You leaned in to kiss him, and he moaned at the taste of himself on your lips. His hand came up to tangle in your hair again, and he deepened the kiss.
His tongue delved into your mouth, and you moaned into the kiss. Your hands came up to tangle in his hair, pulling him closer. God, he tasted so good. They kissed for what felt like eternities before finally coming up for air. "God, stop stop." you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.
He chuckled at your words, his hand moving to stroke your face, his fingers grazing over your cheek. "Okay." he murmured.
He leaned back against the headboard, pulling you into his lap. You snuggled against his chest, feeling the rapid thump of his heart against your cheek. His hand was still tangled in your hair, his fingers running through your hair in a soothing motion. For a few moments, neither of you spoke. The only sound in the room was the sound of your breathing.
"You okay?" he asked, his voice quiet. You nodded, tilting your head up to look at him. His eyes were soft as he looked down at you, and he gave you a small smile. His hand moved out of your hair, his fingers trailing down your spine.
"You seem a little... out of it." he murmured, his fingers still dancing across your skin. "Did I go too far, baby?"
You shook your head, feeling your brain slowly starting to function. "No, I'm fine." you murmured. "Just... a lot of stuff happened, really quick."
His fingers were still tracing patterns on your back, the touch sending shivers down your spine.
"It was a lot, yeah." he murmured, his fingers still tracing patterns on your back. "But it was good, right?"
He sounded almost hesitant, like he was afraid of the answer. You nodded, propping yourself up on your elbows to look at him.
"Yeah, it was really good."
A small, smug smile tugged at the corners of his mouth at your words. "Good." he murmured. "That's all I care about. And promise me for something, baby."
You raised an eyebrow, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth. "Promise you something?" you repeated.
He nodded, his fingers sliding up to tangle in your hair again. "Promise me we'll do this again Yoongi. Analia. You, me."
You felt a shiver run down your spine at his words. "You want to do this again?" you asked, trying to keep your voice casual. "Really?"
He nodded again, his eyes darkening at your response. "Yeah, baby." he murmured. "I think everyone had a good time tonight."
"Yeah, they did." you murmured, thinking about the sounds you heard coming from the other side of the wall. "They seemed to really get into it."
His hands was still in your hair, and he tugged gently, pulling your head back slightly so he could look you in the eyes.
"You think they'll want to do it again too?" he murmured, his fingers still wrapped up in your hair.
You shrugged, trying to seem casual. "I guess we'll just have to see."
He chuckled, his eyes flickering between your eyes and your lips. "I guess we will," he murmured.
i need sleep, otherwise i’ll be a raccoon 🦝 but i can’t wait to read this! i already know this one is a masterpiece like all the other ones 👀 and thank you for enlightening me bc i hadn’t realized they’re were TWO!
→ Pairing: Yoongi & Analia - Jimin & Lua
→ AUs: non-idol, mini series→ Genres: college & Off Campus theme
→ Warnings(s): pure smut, +21, smut, NSFW, overheard, overheard sex, two couple, thin walls, voyeurism, exhibitionism, fingering, talking through, dirty talk, orgasm encouragement, good girl, rough sex, hard sex, mention foursome, fantasizing, oral sex (m), blowjob, deep thorat, face fucking, coming on face and more.
→ Word count: 6.3K
Author Notes:
Authors Q and V are here, This mini-series was written and inspired by a creator we love listening to on Quinn and Patreon.On Quinn LonelyFans, and on Patreon, BedheadRecord.Xander and Ellie.I reckon it’s one of the best things we’ve listened to so far. We chatted about a few ideas whilst listening, and this is what came off it. This story was written entirely based on overheard.You’ll be reading about something that happened between two couples.If you don’t enjoy this sort of thing, please feel free to have a look at the other content on the page.
Thin Walls
“Oh my God! Really?! What are you doing?! Pass the ball!” Min Yoongi barked in Korean at the television, his voice echoed around the house. It was exactly 8:00 PM on a suffocatingly hot July night, and this damn World Cup match was currently stripping years off from his life
Next to him on the black leather sofa, his friend and roommate Park Jimin threw his hands in the air, groaning in perfect tandem with Yoongi before he got up and went to the kitchen where Lua was commanding the stove.
“FAUL!” Yoongi dragged a hand down his face.
After a few minutes the doorbell rang. Sharp, demanding, and loud enough to cut through the commentators on the television. But Yoongi did not move. He only turned the volume up. Another knock rang through the house.
"LUA? Are you home?" Analia's voice called through the door as she tried to peak through the top class of the heavy oak door.
“Yoongi! Get that!!” Lua shouted from the kitchen. “It's her!”
Min Yoongi rolled his eyes and pushed himself up from the sofa with a heavy, irritated sigh. ‘Great,’ he thought to himself. ‘The Golden Campus Princess has arrived.’ He dragged his feet across the hardwood floor, every step unwilling.
He opened the front door and there she was. Analia stood on the porch of Yoongi’s and Jimin’s house that was off campus. Her long hair was fully down in a way that screamed high maintenance.
Yoongi had grown up with Analia on the same street since they were kids. He never missed the opportunity to tug on her pigtails back when her hair was darker. But now she had lighter strands mixed in, soft caramel highlights catching the glow of the porch light, contrasting against her dark roots. It was annoying how over the years she had only grown more beautiful.
Four years at the same college, and somehow, Analia had mastered the art of treating Yoongi like a ghost. Even though they ran in the same circle of friends she systematically reduced him to a background character, an annoyance to be tolerated at best, an acquaintance.
She wore a tight red vest top that clung to the curve of her waist and exposed a teasing peak of her stomach when she walked. The black skirt could barely be seen from the oversized number 7 jersey that reached to her thighs.
"Oh,” Analia looked up at Yoongi like she was not expecting him to answer the door.
“I live here,” he said flatly, not bothering to offer a polite greeting. He turned and walked right back toward the living room, leaving her to close the door behind herself.
“Analia?” Lua called out from the kitchen. “Hey! You made it!"
Jimin chose that exact moment to casually stroll into view from the hallway, looking unfairly handsome and completely unruffled by the sudden shift in the room's energy.
“Hey, Analia," he said smoothly as he took the wine from her hands. “Thank you. And by the way, you know Yoongi, right?"
“Yeah,” Analia said, her voice dripping with sweetness as she looked past him towards the living room. “Just passing by though.”
Min Yoongi scoffed and went into the kitchen to grab a drink. Analia had not told anyone two things:
One: she and Yoongi knew each other since they were kids
Two: they slept together two months ago at a party hosted by Jimin.
Lua and Jimin thought that it was just because Analia was the Golden Campus Princess. She was witty, spoke her mind and was spoiled and could not stand Yoongi. They thought this double date was just a convenient way for all four of them to hang out under one roof, a casual movie-and-dinner night.
They didn't know about the quiet war happening beneath the surface. And they didn't know about what had happened two months ago.
Yoongi’s grip tightened around the glass bottled coke as his mind betrayed him and drifted back to that night. From one of the frat guys not leaving Analia alone, to him stepping in before she could swing at the guy. He took her upstairs in his bedroom to calm down. One minute they were trading snarky remarks, and the next, he had her against the wall with his mouth hot on hers.
That night, the wall she built so carefully didn't just crack; it crushed into dust. He had been as gentle as his rough edges allowed, losing himself in the warmth of her skin, the quiet gasps she tried to hide against his shoulder, and the undeniable, blinding heat between them.
“It’s a miracle he even opened the door for me,” Analia said to Lua.
Yoongi let out a short, breathy laugh as he walked back and sat back down on the sofa in the living room. “Wouldn't want the mosquitoes getting to you,” he said, the sarcasm bleeding through every word. “God forbid you get a single scratch out here in the real world."
The rest of the evening was interesting, to say the least. Yoongi and Analia had spent the next hour trading sharp bites and bickering over the rules of the game, neither of them were willing call a truce over.
From Yoongi’s spot on the other side of the leather sofa he had a front-row seat to the show of Jimin and Lua. Jimin seemed to constantly find excuses to touch Lua—a hand resting just a bit too long on her knee, his fingers casually tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. They claimed to be good friends, but none of their friends were blind enough to not see that those two were fucking.
The heavy, suffocating tension between the two of them was making the air in the room unbreathable. Yoongi reached into the bowl on the table, grabbed a tortilla chip, and flicked it hard across the coffee table. It zipped through the air and hit Jimin square in the temple.
“Stop eye-fucking Lua and pass us the damn dip," Yoongi grumbled, barely looking up from the game replay currently flashing on the screen.
Jimin, smooth as ever, caught the chip before it hit the floor, popped it into his mouth, and smirked directly at Lua—completely unrepentant.
"You heard the man," Lua muttered under her breath, her cheeks flushing a faint pink as she shoved the dip bowl hard into his hands. “Behave.”
Jimin grinned at her command, clearly enjoying the fact that he was getting so deeply under her skin. He dutifully passed the dip over to me, though his gaze never actually left her face.
"I'm behaving," he replied, his voice dropping an octave, sounding just a little too innocent to be trusted. “I'm a perfect gentleman."
Lua rolled her eyes. “Yeah, sure you are."
Yoongi groaned loudly from his corner of the sofa, finally tearing his attention away from the TV long enough to interject before the room caught fire. “These two have been insufferable all night,” he turned to Analia, gesturing between Jimin and Lua with a nod of his head. “I vote we ignore them entirely and focus on the important things—like why the ref made that absolutely terrible call in the 78th minute."
To his surprise, a genuine laugh broke through Analia’s lips. He glanced at her, catching the way the tension in her shoulders briefly melted away, before he looked back at the screen, determined to ignore the sudden, sharp reminder of just how close they were actually sitting.
Later during the night, after cleaning up Lua had excused herself saying she was tired, and then Jimin followed after her not long after leaving Analia and Yoongi alone in the dimly lit living room.
The second the door at the bedroom door at the top of the stairs clicked shut, the living room fell dead silent.
Without Jimin’s laid-back laugh or Lua’s quick, sharp commentary, the house felt suddenly massive, empty, and suffocatingly quiet. The blue glow of the television screen flickered across the dark room, casting long shadows over the coffee table, the discarded dip bowl, and the empty glasses left behind.
Min Yoongi stayed sitting in his corner of the leather sofa. He didn't move an inch. Not even daring to turn his head. He kept his eyes locked on the TV screen, watching the boring post-game analysis on low volume when all he wanted was to look at Analia.
She sat on the opposite end of the exact same sofa. There was maybe three feet of beaten-up leather between them, but it felt like a canyon.
For the past two months, she had successfully made an absolute art form out of dodging him. If he walked into a room, she found an excuse to leave. If Jimin, Lua or any of their friends mentioned his name while she was on speakerphone, she suddenly had to go.
Analia built a fortress of cool indifference and sharp, sarcastic remarks around herself, pretending that night in May never happened. Pretending that the girl who had clung to his shoulders, completely breathless and undone in his bed, wasn't the same girl sitting on the sofa right now in an oversized jersey and pathetic, chunky Mary Jane heels.
Yoongi reached down and grabbed his half-empty glass bottle of coke from the coffee table, and took a slow, heavy pull. He knew why she was avoiding him. He knew what she was trying to do. Analia thought that if she treated him like an annoying, arrogant asshole long enough, the memory of that night would just dissolve. She thought that she could erase the fact that he was the first guy to ever touch her like that.
But Min Yoongi did not forget. If anything, he remembered more every day. He could feel her fingers when they tangled in his hair, pulling him closer like she been starving for it for years.
Finally, he shifted, turning his head to look at her. He could see she was not shy. She was not staring at your fingers, blushing, or acting like a nervous wreck. That wasn't who she was. Analia sat up straight, her back rested against the sofa cushions, looking right back at him. Her dark eyes were calm, steady, and completely unreadable.
She didn't regret what they did. She was not ashamed, and she wasn’t sorry either.
"So," Yoongi said, his voice came out rougher than he intended. “They're gone."
"Looks like it," she said simple.
"They aren't coming back down tonight," he said, leaning his elbows on his knees as he turned fully towards her. "You know that, right?”
"I figured," she replied and swung her legs from under her skirt and jersey to the floor so she could get up, put her shoes on and leave. “I’m gonna go.”
"It's almost one in the morning," he pointed out.
"I can call an Uber, Yoongi."
Hearing his name roll off her tongue without a layer of sarcasm attached to it hit him straight in the chest. He swallowed hard, and thought, ‘fuck it. Let me ask her since we are alone.’
"You've been avoiding me for two months," he said flatly, and Analia did not flinch at the question.
"I haven't been avoiding you," she lied smoothly. “We just don't hang out."
"We're hanging out right now."
"Because of Jimin and Lua," she corrected. "Not by choice."
Yoongi let out a low, breathless laugh that lacked any real humor. "Right. Not by choice,” he echoed as he leaned back against the sofa.
The living room was quiet enough that any movement happening anywhere in this large house could be heard. "How long are you going to do this?" he asked.
"Do what?"
"Act like I did not know what your skin feels like.”
The silence that followed was deafening. That was the first time either of them had actually mentioned it out loud since that night. Yoongi saw the subtle shift in Analia’s eyes. The tiny, almost imperceptible drop of her jaw before she closed her mouth. But she didn't run. She just sat there, taking in the weight of what he had said.
"We both had a few drinks, Yoongi," she said softly.
"I didn’t drink that night," he looked straight into her eyes. "And you only took two small sips of your cocktail. Don't use that as an excuse."
Analia didn't try to argue with that. It was true.
"It was a mistake," she said, though the lack of conviction in her tone betrayed her completely.
"If it was a mistake, why haven't you looked at me the same way since?" he asked, his voice dropping an octave as he leaned closer. “Why are you sitting on the complete opposite side of the sofa? Why did you look like you seen a ghost when I opened the front door tonight?"
She leaned her head back against the leather, staring at him with that calm, persistent look. "Because I don't want things to be weird, Yoongi."
"Things are already weird, Analia," he said. “They've been weird for two months. You treat me like I'm something disgusting on the bottom of your shoe. Especially when people are around, but right now you won't move away from me."
She looked the other way and not a moment later, faint movements came from Jimin’s room above the living room followed by a muffled laugh. Both of them heard it and Analia’s eyes flicking up towards the ceiling for a split second before settling back onto Yoongi.
He wanted to reach out badly. His fingers were aching – screaming to remember the feel of her skin. He wanted to drag her across the three feet of space separating them, pull her onto his lap, and bury his face in her neck until he couldn't think straight anymore. He wanted to strip off that jersey, vest top and skirt and remind her exactly how it felt when he was inside her.
But instead, Yoongi sat there, forcing himself to stay completely still. For a second, the cool, composed mask Analia wore slipped, and he saw the sheer intensity lurking underneath. She didn't regret giving anything to him, she just didn't know what to do with the fact that it was him—the boy who pulled her pigtails when she was little, they guy she was supposed to hate, the guy who made fun of her shoes and complained about her loud voice.
"I'm not going to ruin your life, Analia,” he whispered.
"I know you won't Yoongi," she sighed softly.
A floorboard creaked loudly right above they heads, followed by a sudden, heavy thump against the wall upstairs. Analia turned her head slightly towards the ceiling again.
"Oh fuck, fuck." Yoongi dragged a hand down his face.
“What?” Analia shifted on the sofa. “I didn’t hear-“
“Analia, shh,” he closed his eyes as if that would help him block out what was going on upstairs.
Analia held her breath and that’s when they both heard it loud and clear. "What the…” she trailed off.
"I think they are doing it?”
A beat of silence followed and they heard Lua moan again. “Please, Jimin. Please.”
Analia gasped and giggled. "Oh God. They are!" Her giggle was soft and girlish. It made Yoongi’s chest feel warm and his heart skip a fucking beat.
"Looks like they're busy," he said, his voice barely more than a rough whisper in the dim light.
"Yeah," she whispered back, her voice steady, but her dark eyes wider now, drinking him in as another soft moan echoed down from the top of the stairs.
Slowly, Yoongi shifted on the sofa, closing half the distance between them without ever taking his eyes off Analia’s face. The three feet of leather that used to divide them vanished. Now, he was right there, close enough to feel the heat radiating off your body, close enough to smell that wild cherry and sweet vanilla perfume filled up his lungs.
She didn't pull back. She sat there with those big, dark eyes looking up at him, her lips slightly parted as another sharp, breathless moan from Lua echoed right through the ceiling boards above them.
"They're not even trying to be quiet," Yoongi murmured, his voice dropping into a thick, low growl that vibrated in his chest.
"No," she whispered.
Analia looked at Yoongi with those begging, desperate eyes. She looked so fucking undone already. Just listening to them upstairs, and it drove a spike of pure heat straight to his gut.
“They aren't,” he purred.
Yoongi lifted his hand, taking his time as he reached out and cupped her warm and soft cheek. His palm fit against her like it belonged there. Analia let out a tiny, shaky breath as she leaned into his touch instead of pulling away. She looked at him, practically begging him with her eyes to fix the ache that's been building between them for two whole months.
Yoongi dragged his thumb slowly across her bottom lip, pressing down just enough to feel the plush, wet heat of her mouth. "Look at you," he rasped, tracing the line of your lip while he felt her breath hitch. "Running from me, and all it takes is listening to them upstairs to get you to look at me like this.”
Analia didn't talk back. She didn't give Yoongi a single smart-ass comment. She just bit her lip softly against his thumb, her eyes soft, desperate, and completely submissive to what was happening right here on this sofa.
"Tell me, princess," he whispered. "Have you been thinking about that night?"
"Yes," she breathed out, the word tumbling off her tongue before she could stop it.
“Both times?”
“Yes.”
Hearing her say that almost made him lose his fucking mind.
Upstairs, a loud, rhythmically heavy thud rattled the drywall, followed by Jimin's moan.
"Listen to them," Yoongi whispered softly as his hand moving down from her cheek to wrap firmly around the back of her neck. He pulled her in, forcing her to look straight at him. “They're up there, and you're down here practically shaking in my hands.”
Analia exhaled and her fingers reached out to grip the front of his shirt, tugging him closer. Her face was full of raw need, her eyes pleading him before she tugged on his shirt once again and kissed him.
Whatever self-control Yoongi had evaporated. He swallowed her gasps and turned her head to deepen the kiss. His hands tangled into her hair the second she shifted again only for her knees to hit the rug between his thighs. Yoongi felt his pulse hammering in his throat.
The sound of his belt buckle coming undone by her hands went straight to his chest like a shot of strong, aged whiskey. His breath hitched, a low, guttural growl catching in the back of his throat as he looked down at her.
Upstairs, the floorboards gave a sharp, agonizing creak.
Her tongue sliding out to wet her bottom lip and her eyes darkened as she listened to Jimin and Lua upstairs. It drove both Yoongi and Analia out of their fucking minds.
"Look at you," Yoongi rasped, his fingers tightening in the silky strands at the nape of her neck. “Look at how pretty you are on your knees. You have no idea what you're doing to me, do you?"
Analia reached up, her hands rested on his knees, squeezing tightly as she guided the denim of his jeans down. "You've never done this before, have you?" he asked softly, and she shook her head.
Yoongi leaned forward so that his face was only inches from hers. The scent of her wild cherry and vanilla perfume wrapped around his senses until he couldn't breathe anything else.
“Your very first time taking a guy in your mouth and is the guy that annoys you while our best friends are fucking right above us?" he brushed his thumb over her bottom lip. “Analia, you’re driving me fucking crazy.”
He tilted her chin up slightly with the gentlest touch, his thumb stroking along the delicate line of her jaw before he reached down and found her fingers. Slowly he guided her hand inside his boxers until he helped her wrap her fingers around him. A low hiss escaping his clenched teeth and he guided her hand out of his boxers with his cock in her grip.
“Move your wrist like this,” he whispered, guiding her wrist up and down. Pleasure sparked up his spine. He felt the world tilt sideways as she held him, her touch too light, too unsure.
Yoongi let go of her hand slowly, and her movements stilled as well. He lifted his hand to her face again, brushing a silky strand of hair behind her ear. His voice was deep and soft. “You sure you want to do this?”
“Mmhmm,” she nodded and a smile tugged at the corner of his mouth in admoration of the sight.
Yoongi tilted her face up slightly like a sculptor admiring the masterpiece he never deserved. He exhaled slowly as his hand moved from her jaw to the back of her head, threading into her silky hair with care. The strands slid through his fingers like water, and she leaned down until her lips pressed against the tip of his hard, throbbing cock.
His eyes closed briefly as a low, broken groan slipped from his hips. His hand tightened slightly in her hair to anchor himself. “Slowly,” he whispered.
Her tongue flicked across the tip, a soft, wet touch that drew a deep, guttural growl up from his chest. Her jaw relaxed as she let her lips sliding down, taking him further into her mouth. Yoongi’s head fell back against the leather of the sofa, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached. The pulse in his neck hammering violently as a tremor ran through his entire body.
“Fffuck…” he exhaled.
He looked down at her—at the delicate way she moved. “shibal" he cursed under his breath. "Just like that. Just like that, baby."
Analia moaned in response. Because it was her first time doing this, her technique wasn't refined, but that made it a thousand times hotter. She pulled her lips off his shaft and swirled her tongue around the tip of his cock. Her tongue flicked at the ridge once, then twice before she took him back in her mouth.
“Mmmng, shibal,” he moaned and gripped her hair.
Hearing Lua moan upstairs made Analia drop her jaw even further, taking another inch into the back of her throat. She stroked the base of his cock with her hand, matching the pace of her mouth to the frantic, heavy pounding happening directly above them.
Yoongi didn't push her head down. He held guided her movements - the delicate, bobbing motion of her head. “You like hearing them, don't you?" his hand sliding down from her hair to wrap firmly around the back of her neck as he rocked his hips up just an inch, meeting her mouth halfway.
“Mmmm,” Analia hummed against him, and the vibration went straight to his bones.
“The way he fuckers her,” he ran his fingers through her hair as she continued to bop her head. “Her moans are cute, but fuck my girl is stunning.”
She began bobbing her head faster, taking him as deep as her throat would physically allow. Her suction grew harder, wetter, and completely frantic. She used her hand to twist gently at the base of his cock while her tongue worked the sensitive skin right under the head in a wave-like motion. He hit the back of her throat again, and she gagged around him. The vibration of her throat made the heat in his stomach tighten.
“Fuck—Analia, stop, wait—” he choked out, his body went rigid as his hips surged forward involuntarily into her mouth. “You’re gonna make me come right down your throat, baby.”
She didn't pull away. She didn't slow down either. Analia buried her face deeper into him, and let out a soft, needy whine against his cock, refusing to let him go. She wanted it. She wanted every single drop.
“You want it down your throat, sugar?” Yoongi gripped her hair to ground both of them his climax crashed over him like a tidal wave.
“Mmhmm,” Analia hummed against him and he could feel himself falling off the edge of cumming.
“Fuck,” Yoongi breathed, his chest rising and falling. He moved her head deeper and faster up and down his shaft. “Just like that, baby…mmmng…mmm- I’m gonna cum.” He gripped her hair tighter and she moaned around him again. The vibration made his hips jerk forward as he came. “Shhiiibal.”
He spilled into her mouth, his breath coming out in harsh, ragged gasps that echoed through the dark living room. She swallowed down every burst with a desperate, wet gulp, her tongue licking over the head to clean every drop, refusing to waste a single second of what he had given her.
When she pulled back, a thin strand of saliva was connected to her wet, swollen lips and to the head of his cock. She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, and Yoongi leaned down immediately, unable to stay away from her for another second. He cupped her face in both of his hands, pulling her up off her knees until she straddled him on the sofa. He kissed her deeply, tasting himself on her lips.
Above, Jimin and Lua moan. Hearing her cry out like that drove a spike of pure, burning heat straight back to Yoongi’s gut. His cock twitched, hardening right back up against his stomach before his body temperature even had a chance to cool down. He looked at Analia, watching the way her eyes darkened as she listened to Jimin and Lua upstairs.
He could feel her heart hammering wildly against his chest just as his was beneath his ribcage.
Upstairs, the bed frame slammed violently against the wall, followed by Lua’s moan. Jimin groaned right after, his voice thick, rough, and vibrating through the floorboards. The sound echoed through the ceiling, sharp and clear. Yoongi pulled back from the kiss and looked at Analia.
“Listen to them,” he kissed her neck and sucked on the skin there. “Listen to how he is fucking her.”
Analia pressed her hips down into his, searching for friction as she rolled her hips against his hard cock. He could feel how wet she was through her panties.
“Fuck, you’re dripping for me” he whispered, his hand tightening on her hip and the back of her neck. He guided her to look at him when he pulled away from her neck. “Does hearing them turn you on, baby?”
Analia bit her bottom lip and nodded as her fingers dug into the fabric of his shirt, tugging at the hem until Yoongi took it off himself. He pushed her jersey off and tossed it to the side where his shirt had landed. He cupped her breasts through her vest top and she moaned softly. His palm pressed against her hard nipple and Yoongi noticed she was not wearing a bra.
He didn't care about keeping his voice down anymore. The feeling of her soaking wet panties pressed directly against his bare, throbbing cock was erasing every single shred of restraint he had left.
"Holy shit," he growled, his hand moved from her breast, locking into the back of her hair to force her eyes up to his. “You're so fucking wet for me, Analia. Just listening to them fuck upstairs has you completely soaked."
"Yoongi, please," she whimpered and rolled her hips hard against his, searching for any friction she could get, practically begging him to fuck her. "Please, I need."
“Tell me what you need, darling?” he reached down between them to touch her through her wet laced panties. The dampness made him go insane. He circled her clit with his thumb gently, but she pushed against his thumb.
“I need you inside,” she whined softly. “Please. I can’t breathe.”
"You want me inside you?"
"Mmhmm.”
Yoongi didn't wait another second. He grabbed her by the waist, lifted her body up, and flipped her onto her back against the leather of the sofa. The TV remote tumbled off the cushion, clattering onto the hardwood floor.
Yoongi leaned back, his hard and bare cock pressed against her thigh as he hooked his fingers into the sides of her red lace underwear and pulled them down her legs in one drag. “Spread your legs for me, darling," his voice dropped into a purr as he pushed her skirt up around her waist.
Upstairs Jimin continued his relentless rhythm, his fingers digging into her hips. “Listen to them." he commanded. “They doing it too."
Analia obeyed instantly. She parted her thighs until Yoongi settled between them before she wrapped her legs around his waist. He looked down at her face in the dim light of the living room. Her eyes were wide, her chest heaving under that tight vest top with one strap falling off her shoulder, and cheeks flushed bright red.
Yoongi leaned down, placing the head of his cock right at her slick entrance, and he smirked softly against her mouth as he kissed her. "They're listening to us, baby," he whispered against her lips.
Analia let out a needy, desperate whimper. Her fingers dug into the skin of his back as she moaned softly when he ran the tip of his cock up and down her slits. Yoongi didn't give her a warning. He gripped her hips and buried his cock all the way inside her in one deep thrust.
"MMMMNG!!" Analia moaned, her back arching off the leather.
"Shibal!" Yoongi groaned, his eyes closing for a second at how tight and hot she felt around him. “Shit, you're so tight, Analia." He pull out all the way and thrust inside again until he found a rhythm and start moving.
They heard Lua’s moans turn into a high-pitched squeal as a loud slap echoed from their bedroom, followed immediately by the bed frame crashing back into the bedroom wall with double the violence.
Yoongi pushed deeper into Analia. Her legs loosen around his waist and he grip her right leg and hook it over his hip as he thrusted into her. She moaned, her head slightly falling off the sofa, but he cupped her cheek, bringing her head back.
“Listen her moans baby,” Jimin’s muffled voiced pushed downstairs followed by Lua’s moan.
“Please,” Lua moaned.
Hearing Lua get completely worked up just listening to them sent a wave of raw, primitive heat straight through Yoongi’s veins. It was like they were all in one room together. They were listening to them, they were listening to them, and the entire house was shaking from it.
"You hear that, princess?" Yoongi stroked Analia’s cheek as he slowed his thrusts. He pulled out almost all the way out before slamming back into her, hitting that deep spot that made her gasp for air. "You're turning them on. You're making Lua beg to be fucked."
“Mmmn, please, Yoongi,” Analia sobbed out. She wasn’t holding back a single sound. She threw her head back against the sofa, her hands gripping his arms, taking every inch of his weight. “More. Please.”
Yoongi paused his thrusts and grinded his hipbones right into hers with his cock buried inside her. Analia moaned loudly.
“You want me to fuck you, baby?” he taunted, and her eyes watered as she tried to move her hips, but Yoongi pushed down harder on her hipbones with his.
“Yes!” she bit her bottom lip. “Please fuck me, Yoongi.”
His hands gripping her hips to lock her in place. “Look at you taking dick like a good fucking girl.” The sofa groaned under the weight of them. Analia moaned his name, your fingers digging so hard into his back that her nails left marks on his skin. Red line up, down and sideways.
Upstairs Jimin snapped his hips against Lua. "Yes, they're listening to us too." he murmured, his voice thick with satisfaction. "And fucking each other.” Analia moaned and Jimin whispered to Lua.
Yoongi pinned Analia’s wrists above her head, anchored them into the leather cushion, and drove his cock into her as hard and deep as he could. "Fuuuck, Analia," he growled into the hollow of her throat, slamming his hips against hers until the leather sofa squeaked beneath them in a steady, frantic beat.
Upstairs, the thudding on the wall stopped for a brief second before Jimin’s voice crashed down through the floorboards, loud and completely unfiltered. Lua screamed out for Jimin upstairs and it drove a spike of pure heat straight through their blood.
Yoongi looked down at Analia’s face, her dark eyes were heavy, lidded with pure lust, her lips parted as she listened to every filthy word dropping from the ceiling.
"You hear that, sugar?” he purred against her ear as he slowed down his thrusts teasingly. "Your slutty moans are making Lua lose her fucking mind up there.”
"Mmm, Yoongi..." Analia whimpered as she tried to break her wrists free from his grip. She wanted to grab on him, to tangle her fingers in his hair and kiss him.
Yoongi pulled back and released her wrists. He leaned back to look down at her, the tip of his cock resting in her soaking wet pussy. He wetted his thumb and pressed it against her clit, slowly rubbing it in circles. Analia whined and tilted her hips up to chase both his thumb and cock.
“Yoongi, please,” she breathed. “More.”
Yoongi smirked, gripping your waist so hard his fingers sank into her skin, and thrusted back inside her. He lifted your right leg higher, hooking her knee over his shoulder. The wet, slapping sound of their skin echoed through the dark living room.
“Oh, God, please,” Analia moaned. “Yes. Oh, God."
“Fuck, you feel so fucking good, baby” Yoongi hissed through his teeth. “But you can be louder, no? Hmmm? Come on, darling, please moan louder for me. The louder you moan the harder those two will fuck upstairs.”
Yoongi watched as Analia’s pupil dilated, how her eyes darkened at the image. “You want that?” he cupped her cheek and leaned down but did not kiss her yet. “You want to hear your friend get fucked and moan and cum all because you’re taking my cock like the slut you are?”
Analia bit her bottom lip, her eyes welled up with tears as Yoongi hit her G-spot in such a deep way that it took the air from her lungs. She nodded. “Yes.”
“Yeah?” Yoongi echoed – taunted and she nodded again as a moan fell from her lips. “God, you’re fucking stunning like this, Analia” he murmured under his breath and kissed her.
“There you go baby,” Jimin was heard from upstairs. “There you go.”
They could hear Jimin’s thrusts become faster, and Lua cried out louder. “I am coming, I am coming,” she moaned.
Yoongi felt Analia’s walls suddenly grip his cock like a vise, twitching around him in response to what was going on above them. “Shibal, you’re so tight,” his breath came out in ragged, heavy pants. He reached down between their bodies, finding her slick, swollen clit with his thumb. He pressed down hard, circling it fast as he thrusted into her. “Hearing them fuck up there makes you so fucking wet, doesn’t it?” he whispered.
“Mmhmm,” she moaned and moved her leg from his shoulder to hook over his hip, pulling him deeper. Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him down so their foreheads touched. “Yoongi,” she whined desperately with need.
“You gonna cum for me, sugar?” Yoongi asked, and she nodded.
Her walls clamped down around his cock, milking him the same time Lua cried out upstairs. “Oh, fuck, Analia,” Yoongi moaned. He buried himelf as deep into her as he could possibly go, holding her hips tight against his as his own climax ripped through his body. He came hard inside her, his whole body going rigid, hot pulses spilling into her while he buried his face in the crook of her neck.
After a moment he pulled off her and leaned against the cushions on the sofa. She was wrecked.
Analia felt the cool air slam against her body when Yoongi moved off her. Her skin felt hot and cold at the same time. Her vest top and skirt felt damp from sweat. Yoongi reached for her wrist and tugged her up gently, but she did not move. Yoongi sighed dramatically and tagged again until she sat up while giggling.
Her hair felt damp, and a few strands stuck to her face. Yoongi tucked them behind her ear and kissed her forehead before getting up. As he put his boxers and jeans back on Analia had also gotten up from the sofa. He watched as she put her laced panties back on and smooth out her skirt.
Before she could move anymore he scooped her up in his arms and carried her upstairs to his bedroom. Analia laughed as she told him to put her down, but Yoongi did not listen. Not until he closed the door to his bedroom.
“I need to go home,” she giggled as Yoongi placed her down on his bed. “I also want to shower, Yoongi.”
Yoongi walked towards his closet and grabbed a plane white t-shirt and a fresh towel. “I’ll give one of my shirts and you can shower,” he said simply.
Analia tilted her head and smiled. “You’re real smooth, Min Yoongi,” she said taking the shirt from him. Yoongi smiled down at her and kissed on the cheek repeatedly, making her laugh until he found her lips.
“I’ll take you on a date this weekend,” he promised.
pairing: Yoongi x Reader
genre/warnings: smut, daddy!kink, rough(ish) sex.
words: 11.4k
summary: Yoongi’s focus on work has subjected your relationship to having a dry spell, and with a little prompting from your best friend, you tell him exactly what he should do. But you don’t make the rules kitten, and the game you’re choosing to play is a dangerous one.
“It’s been how long?!” You winced at your best friend Jennie’s pitch, tilting your head away from her slightly as she continued to comically gape at you, mouth open to complete the look.
“Um, three months… nearly?” You carefully regarded her as a multitude of emotions crossed her face, finally settling on confusion.
“Why in the world have you not had sex in three months? Is something wrong?” She briefly glanced down at your lower half and you crossed your arms over your stomach quickly, shaking your head.
pairing: Jin x Reader
genre/warnings: light smut, fluff, slight angst, feature’s other members but not enough to consider it a pairing.
words: 5757
summary: After an eventful evening, it’s the morning after and Jin’s there to take care of you.
a/n: Third part in the series! As always other parts’ links are below and I highly recommend reading them in order as this chapter probably wont make much sense without the one’s prior! Enjoy <3
sleeping | waking | sweeter | breaking
The cries of your safe word echo across the apartment and everybody freezes, heads lifting from phone screens, hands pausing in their scribbling and alarmed eyes meeting each other before everyone is moving at once. Namjoon freezes above you, blood running cold at the pain in your voice, and when he doesn’t react fast enough, Hoseok is right behind him; pushing him out of the way without care and covering you with the blanket draped over the lounge.
Heavy running footsteps thud down the stairs until the room is crowded, Yoongi and Jimin bursting into the living room and nearly tripping over each other to get to you first. Yoongi’s viciously protective side has him instantly on edge, wide eyes assessing the scene before him and quickly grasping the situation, Jimin and himself separating with their approach; Jimin towards you and Yoongi towards Namjoon.
Yoongi’s hands grip the collar of Namjoon’s shirt, heated gaze piercing through the younger’s shocked eyes. “What the fuck have you done?!”
pairing: Yoongi x Reader x Jimin.
genre/warnings: Smut, daddy!kink, multiple partners, hints at ot7.
words: 3,133.
summary: Yoongi and Jimin come home to find you asleep on the couch. To say they were happy they beat the other members back would be an understatement.
a/n: after such a long time of writing and deleting, editing and procrastinating, I am finally posting my first fic here on tumblr. Hope you enjoy, feedback is welcome!
→ Pairing: Namjoon x reader (female)
→ AUs: non-idol, one-shot
-> Genres: couple
→ Warnings(s): pure smut, NSFW, +21, exhibitionism/voyeurism, public sex, against tree, doggy style, dirty talk, fantasizing, in the forest, pool sex, handjob, hardcore sex, fast and hard, rough, in front of strangers, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, spitting, hand job, overwhelming, overstimulation and more.
→ Rating: mature/explicit (this is mature/explicit content, so you have been warned.)
→ Word count: 12.7K
Author Notes:
Author Q is here,
Hello everyone.
It’s all about exhibitionism and voyeurism. If you'd prefer not to read this, please feel free to check out other stories. If you’d like to read it, please be aware of what you’re getting into.
Namjoon is your boyfriend, you and Namjoon and your and his friends decided to go on vacation to Jeju Island for 2 weeks, but you had a fight with Namjoon on the first day of your arrival place and your friends were embarrassed by you two.
You were sitting in a hotel room with your friend, it was 10 pm and almost all of your friends to a party at the club, including Namjoon.
"You and Joon really should make up, you're just spoiling the good mood, it's our first day here." your friend said.
"I know but he started it." You rolled your eyes.
Your friend sighed, "Just go make up with him, we both know you can't stand not talking to him for an entire two weeks."
"I can't believe he has this power over me." You rolled your eyes once more, annoyed that your friend was right.
Your friend laughed, "You know it's because you love him like crazy."
"I do, but his stubbornness is really a pain in the ass." You groaned, reluctantly getting up from the bed.
Your friend looked satisfied that you were finally going to talk things out with Namjoon.
"Now go, before I push you out of that damned door." your friend teased, giving you a light push towards the door.
With a huff, you finally left the hotel room, mentally preparing yourself for the conversation you were about to have with Namjoon.
The club music pulses through the air as you step inside, scanning the crowded space for Namjoon. After a few minutes, you spot him leaning against the bar, nursing a drink while Hoseok animatedly talks next to him. Taking a deep breath, you make your way over.
ge turns, his face unreadable for a moment before his eyes soften just slightly. He sets down his drink.
"Oh hi. Did you finally come to yell at me some more?" His voice is light but there's an underlying tension as he crosses his arms. Hoseok immediately makes an exaggerated exit, mouthing 'good luck' at you as he slips away into the crowd.
You glare at Hoseok as he scurries away, leaving you alone with Namjoon.
"I didn't come here to yell at you, I came here to talk," you say, trying to keep your voice level.
Namjoon raises an eyebrow skeptically. "Really? You've been giving me the silent treatment all day, so pardon me if I don't believe you."
You can't help but roll your eyes at his response.
"Oh, please. You weren't exactly being a saint yourself, you know."
Namjoon lets out a scoff. "Me? You're the one who overreacted in the first place over something stupid."
"Overreacting? You're the one who started it!"
You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down, but the anger is still bubbling just beneath the surface.
"You completely disregarded my opinion and brushed it off like it was nothing. Is it so hard to respect what I have to say for once?"
Namjoon's jaw tenses as he looks down at his drink, swirling the ice cubes before meeting your eyes again. His voice drops to that careful, measured tone he uses when he's trying not to escalate things.
"You're right. I should've listened better. But you shutting down and giving me the cold shoulder instead of talking to me? That hurt too." He runs a hand through his hair.
You're taken aback by the hint of vulnerability in his voice. It's rare for Namjoon to express his feelings so openly, especially when you're angry.
"I just... I needed some space to cool off. But you have a knack for getting under my skin sometimes, you know that?"
Namjoon lets out a dry chuckle. "Oh, believe me, the feeling is mutual."
A small smirk tugs at your lips despite yourself. "Yeah well... you're lucky I think your dumb face is cute."
Namjoon finally cracks a real smile at that, the tension visibly leaving his shoulders. He reaches out to gently flick your forehead. "And you're lucky I put up with your dramatic ass." The warmth in his eyes makes your heart do that stupid little flip it always does when he looks at you like that.
The bass from the club speakers thrums around you both as he nudges your shoulder. "Wanna get out of here? I know a quiet beach nearby where we can actually hear each other talk."
You can't help but smile back, the anger you felt earlier already starting to fade. You nod in agreement.
"Yeah, that sounds nice."
Namjoon finishes his drink in one gulp and sets down the glass, gesturing for you to follow him. He leads you out of the crowded club and into the cool night air.
The walk to the beach is quiet, but it's a comfortable kind of silence. You walk side by side, your shoulders brushing against each other occasionally.
The beach is deserted, save for a few scattered boats in the distance. The sand feels soft and cool under your feet as you and Namjoon walk along the shoreline. The waves crash gently in the moonlight, creating a soothing soundtrack.
You let out a sigh, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere. It feels like a world away from the club and your argument.
Namjoon stops and drops down onto a dry patch of sand, patting the spot next to him. "Come here."
You sit down beside him, the warmth of his body next to yours a comforting contrast to the cool night air. He puts his arm over your shoulder, pulling you a little closer. For a few moments, neither of you speaks. You just watch the waves roll in, lost in your thoughts.
Finally, Namjoon breaks the silence. "I am sorry." His voice is soft.
You lean your head against his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest.
"And I'm sorry too," you admit. "I should've talked to you instead of shutting you out."
Namjoon lets out a breath and nuzzles his nose into your hair. "We both messed up, huh?"
You nod slightly. "Yeah... we do seem to get into a lot of arguments for two people who supposedly love each other."
Namjoon snorts at that, but his grip on your shoulder tightens just a little.
"Love doesn't mean everything is going to be perfect and easy. We're gonna argue, we're gonna piss each other off. But we also know when to apologize and when to make up." He rubs his thumb over your shoulder absentmindedly. "I just don't like it when you give me the silent treatment."
You lift your head to look at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "And I don't like when you dismiss my opinions like they're unimportant. We both have things to work on."
He rolls his eyes, but there's a fond smile on his lips. "Yeah, yeah, we're both stubborn jerks. We're a match made in heaven."
A laugh bubbles out of you, the tension finally completely fading.
"Heaven? More like hell. We probably drive each other insane most of the time."
Namjoon laughs too, the sound deep and rich in his chest beneath your ear. "But you wouldn't have it any other way."
You can't deny it. Even with all the petty arguments and stubborn disagreements, there's a reason you've stuck together for this long.
"No, I wouldn't," you admit.
Namjoon presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. "Good. Let's go to our room. It's been a long day, and I want to rest."
You nod in agreement, standing up and brushing the sand off your clothes. Namjoon takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. You start to head back to the hotel, the cool breeze pleasant against your skin.
As you walk, you can't help but feel a warm affection for the man next to you. He might drive you crazy sometimes, but you wouldn't have it any other way.
When you arrive back at the hotel, the lobby is mostly empty. The elevator ride up is silent, but it's a comfortable kind of silence this time. Namjoon's thumb brushes lightly against the back of your hand, a small gesture of affection.
As soon as you enter your room, Namjoon kicks off his shoes and practically collapses onto one of the beds. He groans and stretches his arms out, his shirt riding up to reveal a strip of toned skin.
Namjoon lets out a deep exhale, eyes already half-closed as he pats the space next to him without looking. "Come here angel," he mumbles, voice rough with exhaustion.
You can't help but laugh at his needy tone. But you oblige, slipping out of your shoes and climbing onto the bed next to him. Namjoon immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. He buries his face in your hair, his body warm and solid against yours.
You snuggle into his embrace, feeling your body relax against him. All the stress and tension from the day seem to melt away in his arms. Namjoon's hand rubs soothing circles on your back, his fingers tracing invisible patterns against your skin.
You close your eyes, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull you into a sense of peace.
Namjoon's voice is a low rumble against your ear. "I love you, you know."
Your heart skips a beat at his words, even though you've heard them countless times before.
"I love you too," you reply, your face still buried in the crook of his neck. "Even when you're a pain in the ass."
Namjoon laughs softly, squeezing you tighter.
He pinches your side playfully at that. "Look who's talking, Miss 'I-give-the-silent-treatment-for-fun'." His words are teasing but the hand stroking your hair is achingly gentle.
You can feel him press a sleepy kiss to your temple as he settles deeper into the pillows. "Now sleep. We're making up for lost time tomorrow - breakfast on the balcony, then that hiking trail Hoseok and Jimin won't stop raving about." His voice is already slurring with exhaustion.
The last thing you register before drifting off is the way his fingers instinctively tighten around your wrist - like even in sleep, he's making sure you won't go far.
The morning sunlight filters through the curtains, casting warm golden stripes across the tangled sheets. Namjoon stirs first, blinking sleepily at the unfamiliar ceiling before his gaze lands on you still curled against his chest. A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face as he carefully extracts his arm from beneath you, trying not to wake you.
But the moment his warmth leaves your side, your brow furrows in protest. With a sleepy grumble, you blindly reach out and grab a fistful of his shirt, dragging him back down with surprising strength for someone half-asleep.
Namjoon chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest as he lets himself be pulled back into the cocoon of blankets. "Guess we're sleeping in then," he murmurs, tucking your head under his chin with a contented sigh. Outside, the sound of waves crashing and distant seagulls creates the perfect lazy morning soundtrack.
You let out a content huff as you settle back into his arms, your head resting over his heart. You can feel it thumping steadily underneath you, a soothing rhythm that almost lulls you back to sleep.
Namjoon starts to run his hand through your hair, his touch gentle and almost absent-minded as he absently plays with the strands.
He breaks the comfortable silence, his voice soft and gravelly with sleep. "...We should probably get up before the others start banging on our door demanding brunch." But he makes no actual move to get up, perfectly content to stay tangled in the sheets with you.
You nuzzle deeper into his chest with a sleepy whine, tightening your grip on his shirt. "Five more minutes," you mumble against his skin, your voice thick with sleep.
Namjoon lets out that deep, rumbling laugh of his, the one that vibrates pleasantly against your cheek.
The sunlight shifts across the bed, warming your legs tangled with his. Neither of you moves. Outside, the faint sound of laughter floats up from the pool below—probably Jin and Jungkook already causing chaos. But here, in this quiet little nest, time feels deliciously suspended.
Namjoon's fingers trace idle patterns along your spine. "...This is nice," he murmurs, almost to himself. You hum in agreement, already drifting again to the rhythm of his heartbeat. The vacation can wait. Right now, this is exactly where you both want to be.
You're drifting off again when Namjoon's voice cuts through the drowsy haze.
"Hey."
His fingers under your chin tilt your face up, and you crack open your eyes, blinking against the morning light. And then your brain catches up—because god, he looks unfairly good. Tousled hair, warm eyes, sleepy smile. He brushes a thumb along your jawline, his touch sending a flutter through your stomach.
"As much as I am loving the koala impression right now," he teases, "We might need to actually get out of bed at some point."
You grumble again, wrapping yourself even more tightly around him. "But... warm."
Namjoon snorts, patting your ass indulgently. "Yeah, that's true. But I think the others are getting impatient."
Your protest turns into a reluctant sigh as his words sink in. You know he's right. The thought of getting up seems about as appealing as jumping into a lake during winter.
Namjoon gently disentangles himself from your grip, rolling out of bed. He stretches, the muscles in his back flexing under the white T-shirt he slept in. You don't bother hiding your appreciative stare.
Namjoon catches you staring and smirks, stretching a little more dramatically just to watch your eyes follow the movement. "Like what you see?" he teases, running a hand through his messy bedhead.
You throw a pillow at him with a sleepy laugh. "Stop showing off and help me get up, you conceited ass."
He dodges the pillow easily and grabs your ankles, yanking you toward the edge of the bed with a yelp from you. Before you can retaliate, he swoops down to press a quick, laughing kiss to your lips. "There. Now we're both up. Happy?"
You feign annoyance but the effect is ruined by the broad grin that spreads across your face as you push yourself upright. "You're a pain."
You're just about to swing your legs off the bed and then he wraps your legs around his waist.
Without warning, Namjoon scoops you up off the bed, hoisting you into his arms effortlessly. You let out an undignified squawk, clinging to his neck.
"Jesus, a little warning next time," you gasp, even though a thrill runs through you at how easily he handles you.
He laughs, shifting you into a more comfortable position against his chest. "But where's the fun in that?" He starts walking toward the bathroom, carrying you like you weigh nothing.
"Besides," he continues, "I like the noises you make when I catch you off guard." He punctuates the statement by giving your ass a playful spank.
He sets you down on the edge of the bathroom counter, standing between your legs and tilting your chin up to look at him.
Namjoon's expression softens as his thumbs brush along your cheekbones, his voice dropping to that quiet, intimate tone that still makes your pulse stutter after all this time. "You look beautiful in the morning light." He leans in, pausing just inches from your lips - close enough that you can feel his breath mingle with yours. "Even with the drool mark on your cheek."
You swat at his chest, but he catches your wrist mid-air, pressing a laughing kiss to your palm before finally, finally closing the distance.
"Just one kiss.." he whispered. "After that, we'll clean up and have breakfast."
His lips barely brush against yours, light as a feather, and you almost whimper at the teasing. You reach up to grip the front of his shirt, trying to pull him closer, but he leans just out of reach with a knowing grin.
"Ah-ah." He grabs hold of your wrists, pressing them down against the counter.
Your breath catches as Namjoon pins you in place, the muscles in his arms flexing under the thin material of his T-shirt. His eyes roam your face, his gaze lingering on your wide eyes and parted lips.
He leans forward, bringing his mouth close to your ear, his voice a low murmur that makes a shiver run down your spine. "If I start kissing you properly now, we won't be leaving this bathroom any time soon."
You're torn between wanting to smack him and wanting to melt right then and there. "Maybe I don't care," you manage to retort, proud that your voice doesn't waver.
Namjoon's grip tightens slightly, almost possessive, and it sends another jolt through you. His eyes darken as a smug smile curves his lips. "And as much as I'd love to take you right here against this counter..." He gives your thigh a light squeeze, making you shiver involuntarily. "...Not now."
A huff escapes you at the teasing, but there's no hiding the way your body reacts to his touch. He knows he has this power over you and he uses it shamelessly.
"Fuck you." you grumble, but there's no real heat in your tone. Namjoon chuckles, finally releasing your wrists to step back. He pats your thigh lightly. "Oh, I will."
time skip.
You and Namjoon finally make it to the hiking trail Hobi and Jimin have been raving about, and you have to admit, the view is stunning. Verdant mountains frame an endless blue sky as far as the eye can see, and even though it's a bit humid, the breeze feels refreshing against your skin.
Namjoon lets out a low whistle. "Okay, I'm starting to see why they couldn't shut up about this place. It's incredible."
"Yeah, it really is." You take a moment to just soak in the beauty of the landscape before digging your phone out of your backpack. "I should probably send Hobi and Jimin a picture. They'll never believe we actually made it out of bed."
Namjoon laughs and slings his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in for a quick selfie. You take a few shots, trying to capture the breathtaking view behind you.
You send off the pictures with a quick caption to the group chat before putting your phone away and turning your attention back to Namjoon. He's gazing out at the horizon with a thoughtful expression on his face, one arm still slung around your shoulders. You nudge him with an elbow.
"What are you thinking about?" you ask, taking in his contemplative expression.
Namjoon exhales slowly, his grip on your shoulder tightening just a fraction. "How I almost ruined this entire trip over something stupid." His eyes flicker with uncharacteristic vulnerability before he looks back at the view. "I don’t want to waste another second of it arguing with you."
He turns to face you fully, the mountain breeze ruffling his hair. "From now on, let’s just... enjoy it. Together." There’s a quiet intensity in his gaze that makes your breath catch, the same look he gets when he’s composing something important.
Your heart clenches in your chest at the rawness in his voice. You know how hard it is for him to open up, even to you. You step closer, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair in what you hope is a soothing gesture.
"Hey," you say softly, "we've had stupid fights before and we've always made up. This one was just a little longer than usual, that's all."
Namjoon covers your hand with his, leaning into your touch like a cat seeking warmth.
"Yeah, but... I don't know. It just felt different this time." He lets out a humorless laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I guess it made me realize how much I hate fighting with you. And how much I hate going to bed knowing you're pissed at me."
The earnestness in his voice hits you hard, and you can't help but wrap your arms around his waist in a tight hug. He buries his face in your neck, his breath warm on your skin.
"I hate it too," you confess quietly. "I hate not being able to just talk things out like we usually do. It's like... a part of me is missing when we're mad at each other."
Namjoon's arms tighten around you in response, his embrace practically squeezing the air from your lungs. "Me too. It's like this weird emptiness that's... it sucks."
He pulls back just enough to place a soft kiss to your forehead. "Promise me we won't let it happen again. No more dumb arguments without talking it out. No more silent treatments."
You nod fervently, looking up at him with a determined expression. "Promise. No more stupid fights. No more ignoring each other."
Namjoon's expression softens when he sees how serious you are, his gaze searching your features as if he's making sure you mean it. Finally, he leans in and brushes a tender kiss along your jawline before murmuring against your skin.
"Good. I hate it when you give me the silent treatment anyway. Drives me crazy."
You can't help the small grin that spreads across your face at his admission. "Oh, yeah? Does it drive you crazy?"
You reach up to run a hand over his chest, fingers toying with the collar of his shirt in a way you know is more taunting than comforting. Namjoon’s eyes darken ever so slightly, but he doesn’t miss a beat.
"It does,” he says evenly, hands sliding down to grip your waist. “Makes me want to find ways to get your attention back on me."
You try to keep a straight face, but a shiver runs down your spine at his words. Before you can reply, he grips your waist tighter and pulls you closer, his body suddenly flush against yours.
He lowers his voice to a murmur that sends a shiver down your spine. "And when you're all quiet and sulky..." His hands slide under your shirt, fingers tracing light patterns against your bare skin. "God, you look so hot when you're mad."
Your brain practically short-circuits at the sudden contact, the feeling of his hands on your bare skin sending goosebumps across your flesh. You try to scoff, but the breathy sound that comes out only serves to make Namjoon smirk smugly.
"Can we keep walking?" you murmur, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your gut. Namjoon leans down, his lips grazing against the shell of your ear.
Namjoon's grip on your waist tightens, his lips dancing over the skin just below your ear as he lets out a low, smug chuckle.
"Trying to get away, angel?" His fingers lightly skim the waistband of your pants, dipping just below it to brush against the bare skin above your ass.
The sensation makes your knees weak, and you barely bite back a gasp. You're fully aware of how affected you're becoming, but Namjoon is clearly enjoying himself too much to back down.
You try to keep your voice steady as you speak, but your words come out as a breathy whisper. "We're in public, Joon."
Namjoon's hands slide completely under your shirt, his palms flattening against your stomach as he nuzzles his face into your shoulder. His breath is hot against your neck.
"We're in the middle of the mountains, no one's around." His hands slide higher, grazing your ribs. You swear you feel his lips curling into a smirk against your skin.
But despite the heat flaring in your gut, you try to keep a grip on rational thinking. "Someone could see us."
Namjoon seems unconcerned, his hands still exploring under your shirt, his fingers teasing the underside of your bra. His voice is a deep rumble in your ear. "Then let them see." He brushes your skin with the barest graze of his knuckles, sending electricity pulsing through your core. "Fuck, this sports shorts..."
You swallow hard, trying to get a handle on your breathing as Namjoon toys with the waistband of your shorts. It's getting increasingly difficult to form coherent thoughts, let alone words. You grab his wrists in a futile attempt to stop his hands from wandering. "I don't want anyone to see us."
Namjoon huffs, clearly amused by your feeble attempts to stop him. He nuzzles his face into your neck once more, his lips grazing your sensitive skin. "So you want me to stop?" His hands still, lingering just above your waistband.
His voice is low and taunting, but you know Namjoon well enough to know he's testing your resolve.
Your heart thumps wildly in your chest, torn between the thrill of the danger of getting caught and the desire coursing through your veins. But you manage to force out a reply. "Yes. We’re in public." You turn your head slightly to glare at him.
Namjoon's hands slide back up to your sides, fingers grazing your ribs through your shirt. He sighs disappointedly but there's a hint of a smirk on his face. "Fine, if you say so."
You try to regain some semblance of composure, straightening your shirt where it's rumpled from Namjoon's wandering hands. You ignore the throbbing ache between your legs, willing it to go away. "We should keep going." You can't quite keep the huskiness out of your voice.
Namjoon's grin widens, clearly pleased with the effect he has on you. But he obediently steps back, the glint in his eyes showing he's far from finished with you.
"Lead the way, angel.”
You can feel his gaze burning into your back as you start walking again, the air thick with palpable tension. You keep your eyes straight ahead, determined not to let him see how flustered you are. And yet, you can’t help the way your steps falter occasionally, your mind buzzing with memories of Namjoon's hands on your stomach, your waist, your chest.
The silence between you is charged, the sound of your feet against the gravel the only thing cutting through the tension.
The walk seems to stretch on for ages, each step a painful reminder of the desire coursing through your veins. But you refuse to look back at Namjoon, knowing that one look in his eyes would be enough to shatter your resolve.
After what feels like an eternity, Namjoon finally breaks the silence, his voice cutting through the air like a gunshot.
"You alright back there, sweetheart?" His tone is casual, almost innocent, as if he hadn't just reduced you to a mess a few minutes ago. You try to keep your reply nonchalant, even though your heart is beating out of your chest.
"I’m fine, why do you ask?" You don't dare look back at him but you can feel the heat of his gaze boring into your back.
Namjoon lets out a low, knowing chuckle, but he keeps his voice light. "Just checking. You've been pretty quiet."
You can practically hear the smirk in his voice, and it takes every ounce of your willpower not to snap back and tell him exactly what he’s doing to you. Instead, you force out a scoff. "Can't a person enjoy the scenery in peace?"
Namjoon's footsteps quicken, closing the distance between you. "Oh, you're enjoying the scenery, huh?" His tone is low and amused. The smug bastard seems to be having way too much fun with this.
You can feel his presence right behind you, the heat radiating from his body making you shiver.
"Yeah, the mountains are beautiful." You manage to get the words out without your voice cracking, though it's a wonder considering how dry your throat suddenly is.
Namjoon's hand brushes against the small of your back, the touch almost scorching even through the fabric of your shirt. You inhale sharply, his proximity making it impossible to think straight.
His voice is barely above a whisper, right by your ear. "They are, but I think I prefer something else right now."
His other hand finds its way to your hip, pulling you back against his chest. His breath is warm against your neck. "You say we're in public... but I remember you said you wanted to try exhibitionism."
Your brain stutters for a second, struggling to process his words past the fog of desire clouding your thoughts. You remember that conversation, but you never expected Namjoon of all people to bring it up.
His grip on your waist tightens, fingers digging into your skin. His chest is pressed against your back, and you can feel his rapid heartbeat matched with your own.
His next words are more than a little smug. "You're thinking about it, right? Admit it."
You swallow hard, torn between the urge to give in to the fire burning in your core and the knowledge that anyone could see you right now.
"...Maybe." You reply grudgingly, your voice coming out breathy betraying your efforts to keep a level tone.
Namjoon's hands slide under your shirt again, hot against your skin. His mouth brushes the shell of your ear. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" His hands slide higher, thumbs grazing the underside of your bra. "Being out here, out in the open. Anyone could see us." His hips grind against your ass and you can feel his growing hardness pressing into you. "Anyone could see how affected you are."
You can't stop the moan that escapes your lips at the sensation, hips bucking helplessly back against his.
The feeling of him, hard against your ass makes your legs weak, and you stumble forward a little. Namjoon's hand on your waist steadies you, his grip firm.
His nose brushes the sensitive skin of your neck, a quiet laugh against your ear. "I was right, huh?" He sounds far too self-s satisfied, knowing exactly what he’s doing to you.
His hands slide higher, palming your breasts through your bra. "Tell me angel."
Your mind is swimming, the feel of Namjoon's hands on your nipple making you squirm. But you manage to bite back another moan.
"Maybe." You repeat, your voice cracking at the end.
Namjoon's hands leave your breasts, sliding back down to your waist. His hands feel almost possessive gripped on your hips.
"No, no, no." He tsks, his hands tightening the grip. "I think we should try being more honest with each other, don’t you agree?" His thumbs dig into your hip bones. "Be honest with me."
Your mind is too overwhelmed to come up with a sassy reply. So, instead you nod, trying to find the will to speak without moaning.
"Yes." You manage to choke out.
Namjoon's hands trail over your stomach, his touch lighting up every nerve in your body.
"Good girl." His voice is a low purr in your ear, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of your shorts. "Now tell me... what are you thinking about right now?" He gives your shorts a tug, pushing them lower on your hips.
The feeling of the fabric sliding over your skin sends a shiver through you, the night air suddenly feeling cool against your overheated skin. You let out an involuntary gasp, feeling the goosebumps rise all over your body. Your brain struggles to form a coherent thought.
"I'm... I'm thinking..." You struggle to speak, feeling your shorts being pushed halfway down your thighs.
Namjoon's hands slide back over the bare skin of your ass, squeezing possessively. His voice is a low murmur against your neck.
"I am listening angel." he murmured.
You can barely form a sentence without moaning, your brain hazy with want.
"I'm thinking that... that someone... could see us." You manage to gasp out. Namjoon's hands still on your hips, his fingers twitching against your skin. "And fuck.. that makes me so wet.."
You can almost feel the smug smirk against your neck.
"Good, we’re being honest with each other." His hands slide lower, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your panties. "Keep talking."
You have to concentrate to keep your knees from buckling, your legs shaking as Namjoon's hands pull your soaked underwear down your thighs.
"I'm... I'm thinking that.. " you whispered.
Namjoon's fingers trail teasingly up the inner part of your thigh, his words almost a taunt against your ear.
"Use that dirty mouth of yours, baby."
You can't stop the soft whine at his fingers barely grazing over your clit. Your hips try to grind down on his fingers for some relief, but his other hand grips your hip, holding you still. "Fuck..” you breathe out helplessly.
You can feel Namjoon's smile against your neck. "You're dripping." He murmards, fingers brushing against your folds. "Just look at you. Such a mess already.." His fingers slide through your folds with ease, teasing your opening.
His voice lowers into a growl, low enough not to carry. "Tell me baby, you like this right? out here in the open, where anyone could see us, where you're so exposed... so free."
Your legs feel weak, your whole body trembling as Namjoon's fingers toy with your slit. You clench your eyes shut, focusing on the sensations.
"God... Yes." You whine, your voice already breaking. "I liked it."
Namjoon's fingers withdraw from your soaked folds, and you can hear the sound of his zipper being undone. "Turn around."
You obey immediately, turning around to face him. Your eyes rake over his face, taking in his flushed cheeks and the way his jaw clenches. His eyes dart behind you for a split second, looking at something behind you.
His hands grip your thigh, the roughness of his palms sending shivers up to your core. "Bend over."
It's an order, and you obey eagerly, leaning forward to grip your hands against the rough bark of the tree in front of you. Your legs feel like mush almost immediately, but you manage to stay put.
Namjoon stands behind you, his hand running up your leg. “Spread them more.” His voice is dark and commanding. Your legs move, spreading further apart.
You hear the sound of Namjoon spitting, and a moment later, the head of his cock prods against your leaking slit. You let out a gasp, feeling him press against your entrance, just barely spreading you.
"You're so wet." Namjoon lets out a low groan.
You whine at that, unable to deny his words, but before you can reply, he pushes inside of you with a powerful thrust. Your moan echoes through the night air, the sudden stretch of your walls around him making your hands grip the bark of the tree tightly.
The feel of him inside of you is overwhelming, and you try to muffle your mewls in your sleeve, your legs almost giving out. You feel his fingers dig into the skin of your thigh, keeping you upright.
He starts a steady rhythm, his thrusts deep and hard. He leans forward, covering your body with his, his chest pressing against your back. He growls near your ear, voice low and rough. "You'd let me do anything. I could bend- Oh fuck, someone is coming."
Your body freezes, dread sinking like a stone in your stomach. You manage to peek over your shoulder, not able to see anything from this angle. Someone is nearby. Your heart hammers against your ribcage, your whole body tense.
But Namjoon holds you in place, not slowing his pace for a second.
His hands grip your waist, keeping you pressed against the tree as he continues to piston his hip, not giving you a chance to adjust to the new angle. "They're coming closer."
You can hear the steady crunch of footsteps on the gravel trail, moving closer to you guys. You try to pull away, but Namjoon holds you firmly. "Shhhh."
His hand clamps over your mouth, effectively muffling your moans as you hear the sound of approaching footsteps. You can't make out the conversation, but you can hear the deep timbre of a male voice and a soft laugh.
Namjoon doesn't slow down for a second, his pace unrelenting as the voices get louder.
The voices draw closer, and you can make out the words of the men's conversation now. It's two guys, seemingly lost and trying to find their way to the parking lot. They're only a few meters away, on the other side of the tree you're pressed against. They turned the corner now, and they see you.
Your body goes taut as you watch the two guys notice the two of you, their conversation faltering and then stopping entirely. They stand there, frozen in surprise. Your body shudders helplessly, the adrenaline coursing through your body.
Namjoon doesn't stop his movements, not even now that the men are standing just a few feet away from you.
Their eyes go wide, and you can see one of them nudge the other, whispering something. Their gazes are firmly locked on you and Namjoon.
Namjoon he leans over you, voice rough in your ear. "Look at their eyes."
You take a peek over your shoulder in their direction, and sure enough, the two guys' eyes are locked on you. You can see their Adam's apple bob as they swallow.
One of them opens his mouth, as if to speak, but whatever words he was going to say seem to get lodged in his throat.
"They want you baby. They want to be me." Namjoon murmured, his pace still consistent as the men gawk at you.
You can see one of them move awkwardly, as if trying to adjust his pants. You bite down on your lip, the heat in your stomach growing as their gaze roams over your body.
"Yeah, that one there. He can't take his eyes off you." Namjoon huffs a laugh, sounding almost amused.
One of them is definitely still staring at you, his eyes locked on your legs.The other one has now noticed, too, staring at the two of you with open interest. It's one thing thinking someone could stumble upon you, but the fact that they're watching you?
Namjoon lets out a low, possessive growl in your ear. "They're staring at you angel." He bites down on your neck playfully, and you barely suppress a gasp.
The two men continue staring, mouths open as they take in the scene in front of them. One of them whispers something to the other. You can't make out the words, but you can tell they're both enthralled by the show.
Namjoon's hands grip your hips tighter, possessively. "They're not even trying to look away. What do you think they're thinking right now, sweetheart?"
You can practically feel their gazes burning into your back.
Your heart is hammering in your chest, the mixed emotions inside of you almost overwhelming.
"God... They're still watching." You choke out, your voice hoarse.
Namjoon's fingers dig into your skin possessively. "Yeah, they are. Because that's all they can do—watch." He punctuates each word with another deep thrust.
One of the men lowers his hand to his pants, trying to adjust the bulge in them.
You swallow hard, watching as the man's hand lingers for a second longer than necessary. He looks away when he realizes you're watching.
Namjoon's voice is smug against your ear. "He's hard, just for you."
Sure enough, the other man's hand has drifted down to his pants now, trying to do the same as his friend.
Your body is taut as a bowstring, the situation both mortifying and exhilarating. "Are they.. are they touching themselves?" You manage to whisper.
Namjoon's hands tighten on you. "Yeah, they do." The roughness in his voice tells you all you need to know about how he feels.
The two guys are still standing there, unmoving. The first one drops his hand down again, palming himself through his pants again.
Namjoon lets out a low growl, the possessiveness in his tone all the more apparent now.
"They want you more than anything right now, don't they?" He pulls you back, making you take more of him.
You nod desperately, words eluding you. The men seem to be transfixed, their eyes glued to your body. The first one gives up, his hand rubbing his bulge shamelessly now.
Namjoon lets out a low laugh, the smug satisfaction evident in his voice. "They can't help themselves." He thrusts into you harder, the roughness of his voice betraying his control slipping.
Your eyes are still locked with the second guy, his hand now mimicking his friend. His eyes are dark, and you swear you can see his tongue dart out to lick his lips. You let out a strangled gasp. "Oh god, they're... Oh god."
Namjoon lets out another growt, hands gripping at your waist possessively. "Yeah, look at them. You drive them crazy, angel. I bet they'd do anything to be in my place right now." His voice is rough but reverent.
The second guy is practically undoing his pants now, his hand visibly squeezing his bulge. You can feel yourself dripping around Namjoon's cock, the thought of them watching you making you clamp down around him.
You're starting to lose control of your body, hips bucking involuntarily against Namjoon's. You're on the edge of coming.
A low, guttural sound rumbles from Namjoon's chest. His hands hold you in place, almost possessively. "They want you so badly. They'd give anything to touch you, to be inside you."
You can't stop your head from rolling back on his shoulder, your hand moving to grip his thigh. "Oh god... They look... So good."
The man's other hand is squeezing the base of his cock now, the veins on his forearm standing out. His eyes dart back up to yours, and the sight of him sends a shiver up your spine. His chest heaves as if he's panting. He stares at you for a few seconds before looking away again.
Namjoon's voice drops to a deep growl in your ear. "They're desperate, angel. Desperate." He punctuates the last word with a hard thrust. "They're aching for you."
You moan aloud, no longer caring if they hear you. The man's breaths are getting heavier, his hand moving faster. "Oh god." You breathe out, struggling to stay upright.
Namjoon's hands grip your hips tightly, possessively. "Yeah, they're desperate for you. All they can do is watch you get filled over and over again, getting what they'll never have." His voice is rough, possessive. "Because you're mine."
Those words send a shiver down your spine, making you clench around his cock even tighter. The guy's hand jerks faster, his eyes rolling back in his head.
"Oh god, Namjoon... " you manage to gasp out. You can feel his grip on your hips tighten to almost painful levels at your words.
Namjoon's pace is relentless, his grip on your hips unyielding. "Yeah, angel?" He pants out, voice low and rough. "You close?"
You nod desperately, your hips bucking against him. The tension in your stomach is almost unbearable. "God, yes. I'm close." You manage to get out.
The guy lets out a strangled noise, his hips twitching with each stroke. His eyes are locked on you, almost glazed over.
You can feel Namjoon's grip on you tighten possessively. "Yeah? You gonna come for me, baby?" He whispers in your ear, voice rough and uneven. He leans forward slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts.
Your eyes flutter closed, your fingers clawing at the tree trunk in front of you. "Oh god, yes. I'm gonna come." You manage to gasp out in a whimper.
The guy is now letting out breathy moans, his hand working faster and faster. His eyes are locked on your face, almost pleading.
Namjoon's grip on your waist is almost bruising as he increases his pace, his thrusts growing more erratic. "Yeah, come for me, angel. Let them hear you." His voice is raspy, rough with desire.
Your head rolls back on his shoulder, your neck exposed and bared to him. "Oh gods, I'm coming." You moan out, your voice echoing through the night air.
The guy's hands move away from his cock, clenching into fists at his sides. He lets out a low, strangled sound, looking close to tears. His eyes are still locked on you, watching.
Namjoon lets out a deep groan at your words, his hands holding you in place. "Oh, God, you're so good to me." He pants out, voice rough and uneven. "That's it, come for me."
Your body is wound up so tight, and the sight of the man's desperation sends you over the edge. You come with a gasp, legs shaking wildly as the orgasm washes over you. It takes all of Namjoon's strength to keep you upright, his hands gripping your hips.
Your knees almost give out, your body going limp against Namjoon's chest. His hands hold you up, his grip on your hips a little painful.
"Good girl." He murmurs, his mouth against your ear.
You're still trying to catch your breath, your body wrung out and boneless. You can feel Namjoon's rapid heartbeat against your back, his body trembling ever so slightly.
You slowly turn your head, making eye contact with the second guy. He looks wrecked, his breathing heavy and raspy.
His eyes are still locked on you, his gaze dark and intense. But he doesn't move, his body taunt like a bowstring.
You hear Namjoon chuckle darkly behind you."Your fantasy comes to life angel."
Your mind is a mess, still reeling from your orgasm. You struggle to form coherent thoughts, your face heating up under the guys gaze.
"Oh god." You murmur, burying your face in Namjoon's neck. He lets out a low laugh against your ear, his grip on your hips tightening possessively.
"They left. Look at me angel. " Namjoon murmurs, pressing a soft kiss top of your head.
You lift your head up, still feeling a little dizzy. Your neck is still slightly sore from Namjoon's grip.
You look around, and sure enough the two guys are nowhere to be found.
Namjoon leans forward, his chin resting on your shoulder. "So how was that, sweetheart?" He asks, voice nonchalant.
You're still trying to process what happened, trying to control your breathing.
"Surreal." You manage to say, your mind conjuring up the image of the two men watching you. "That was... insane."
Namjoon lets out a low chuckle, his breath hot against your neck. "Surreal huh? Did you enjoy it?"
His hands slide up your waist, his fingers tracing patterns over your shirt.
"I did.. You?" you murmured
He presses a lingering kiss to the sensitive skin just below your ear. "You want the honest answer angel?" He murmurs against your neck.
You shiver at the sensation, goosebumps running down your spine. "Yeah." You murmur, still trying to regain control over your breathing.
His hands continue to roam over your body, seemingly unable to keep them to himself. "Then, I loved it." He murmured, voice smug. "I loved the way they were looking at you, how desperate they were. But most of all..."
You can't help but shiver as his hands grip your hips possessively again. "Yeah?" You whisper, your mind still reeling from everything that just happened. "Most of all?"
Namjoon's mouth brushes against the shell of your ear, his voice low and rough. "I loved the fact that they'll never have what I have.." His hands give your hips a squeeze. "You."
time skip.
You're lounging on loby, mindlessly scrolling through your phone with your friend. Namjoon is out with his friends.
"Hey." Your friend Minsoo says suddenly, catching your attention. "Is it just me or have Namjoon's friends always been lowkey hot? Like Jimin.. Fuck I wish he fuck me."
You nearly choke on your ice cold water, your phone dropping to your lap. "What?" You sputter out, trying to process her words. She's not wrong. "Jimin? Since when?" you laughed.
Minsoo rolls her eyes, a smirk playing at her lips.
"Don't tell me you haven't noticed." She crosses her legs, leaning back against the couch cushions. "I've always had a thing for him. Ever since I first met him. He's just so… Ugh." She lets out a sigh, fanning herself dramatically. "He's so hot."
You raise an eyebrow, a grin spreading across your face. "I didn't know you had a crush on him."
Minsoo rolls her eyes again, shaking her head.
"Don't get that smug look on your face." She huffs. "I've had a thing for him since you introduced us."
Your smirk widens. "Well, well, well look at that."
Minsoo playfully swats at your shoulder. "Shut up." She huffs, a hint of pink spreading across her cheeks. "It's not a big deal."
You can't help but chuckled, shaking your head. "It is a big deal if you've had a crush on him forever and never said anything."
Minsoo rolls her eyes again, a defensive edge to her voice. "What's the point of saying anything? He's your boyfriend's friend. You know how weird friendships can get when feelings are involved."
You shrug, feigning nonchalance. "Not really. My and Namjoon's friendship didn't change at al—"
She interrupts you. "No offense, but you two were practically made for each other."
You can’t argue with that. It's a fact. But still, you can't help but poke at Jill just a little bit more.
"But Jimin could still be interested in you." You can't help but tease.
Minsoo scoffs, shaking her head. "I seriously doubt it. Have you seen the guy? He's gorgeous. He could have any girl he wants."
You laugh at Minsoo's self-deprecating comment, shaking your head. "He is gorgeous. But I think you're underestimating yourself."
She looks at you skeptically. "Oh really?" Sarcasm laces her voice.
You nod, leaning back against the couch. "I'm being serious. You're pretty, smart, funny, and you're successful. He'd be stupid not to be interested in you."
Minsoo huffs, trying to downplay it. "It's easy for you to say, your boyfriend is literally a god among men."
You can't help but smile at the compliment. But you also can't resist the opportunity to needle your friend a little more. "You have a point. But Jimin could still be into you, ya know?"
Minsoo rolls her eyes again, but a small smile plays at the edge of her lips. "Let a girl dream, okay?"
You laugh, shaking your head at Jill's stubbornness.
"You're missing my point, Minsoo. It's not just about looks or successes. It's about what you can offer." You say softly.
"You're smart, witty, funny. You have a heart of gold. Those are things he can't just find anywhere."
Your friend lets out a sigh, her defenses seeming to lower slightly. "But what if I'm not his type?"
You can't help but roll your eyes at Jill's insecurities. "Minsoo, who cares about types? Types are stupid."
She looks at you skeptically. "You're only saying that because Namjoon is basically your ideal type."
You shrug, a small smile playing at your lips. "True. But I didn't fall for him because he fit my type. I fell for him because he's him."
Jill sigh, still unconvinced. "God, you're such a sap."
You throw a pillow at her, laughing. "And you're such a cynic."
She dodges the pillow easily, sticking out her tongue at you. "I'm just realistic."
You let out an exaggerated huff, crossing your arms. "Realistic my ass. oh perfect fucking timing. They're coming, I can hear them."
Minsoo's expression changes instantly, her eyes widening and her body going tense. She smoothens out her clothes, running a hand through her hair.
"Oh god, I look like a mess." She mutters, trying to fix her disheveled appearance.
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. "You always say that." You murmur.
Minsoo shoots you a panicked glare. "This time I actually do." She says frantically.
The sound of Namjoon’s deep voice echoing through the foyer suddenly fills the space. Minsoo instantly straightens up, trying to look composed.
You can hear the rest of the guys laughing and chattering but Namjoon's voice stands out the most, your heart skipping a beat as usual. Minsoo is practically vibrating next to you.
"I look fine right? I don't look like I just rolled out of bed or anything right?" She asks, still attempting to fix her hair.
You roll your eyes, shaking your head. "You look fine. You're overthinking."
Minsoo doesn't seem convinced, still messing with her hair. "I should've worn something fancier. I look so basic."
You roll your eyes again. "You look great. Stop being ridiculous."
Namjoon and Jimin walk into the lobby. Minsoo immediately goes stiff, her cheeks turning a bright red as Jimin’s eyes land on her.
"Hello beautiful ladies." Namjoon murmured and smiled.
Minsoo is practically malfunctioning next to you, her eyes locked on Jimin. "Hi." She croaked out. You have to resist the urge to facepalm.
You exchange a glance with Namjoon, trying to hide your smirk. He raises his eyebrow slightly, clearly finding the situation amusing.
"I am so sorry Jill. It’s okay if we leave you alone with Jimin, right? We need to go back to the room with Y/N." Namjoon smiled.
Minsoo's eyes flickered away from Jimin to Namjoon, her face red.
"Y-yeah, it’s fine." She stutters out, still avoiding eye contact with Jimin. You exchange another glance with Namjoon, this time unable to hold back your smirk. He gives you a subtle nod, clearly enjoying the situation.
Namjoon wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his side.
"Great. I'm going to borrow her, then." He murmured.
Jimin's eyes flicker to Namjoon's hand on your waist, a flicker of something unrecognizable crossing his face for just a split second. He quickly schooled his expression, turning back to Minsoo.
Minsoo manages to drag her gaze back to Jimin, her cheeks still flushed. She tries to summon a casual tone but fails miserably.
"S-sure, go ahead." She manages to squeak out.
Namjoon nods, then steers you away from the couches, hand still possessively on your waist.
As you walk away, you can feel Jimin's eyes on your back, and you can practically feel the tension between him and Minsoo from the distance.
Namjoon guides you down the long corridor, his grip relaxed but still possessively on your waist. He glances at your face, a smug smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
"Lets go baby." he murmured.
You try to act nonchalant, but you can't help the way your heart races as Namjoon’s hand rests possessively on your waist, the weight of it both comforting and exhilarating. You shoot him a sidelong glance, trying to appear unaffected.
"Going somewhere?" you ask casually, though the effect is ruined by the breathiness of your voice.
Namjoon doesn’t miss the hitch in your voice, his smirk growing wider.
"Just taking you private pool." His hand slides lower, possessively grabbing your hip, pulling you a little closer.
Your heart skips a beat in your chest, the possessiveness in his grip making your knees feel weak. You clear your throat, trying to hide the effect his touch has on you.
"Private pool, huh?" You murmur, feigning disinterest.
Namjoon raises an eyebrow, the smug smirk still on his face. He stops in front of a door, turning to face you. His hand on your hip tugs you even closer, leaving barely any space between your bodies. "I hope you're wearing your bikini."
Your heart is pounding now, his proximity making it hard to think straight. You nod, unable to form a coherent sentence as his fingers dig into your hip possessively.
"Yeah, I am." You manage to get out, your words coming out breathy.
His other hand reaches up to push a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your earlobe. His thumb brushes against your neck, feeling the rapid pulse throbbing beneath your skin. His gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips, a smug glint in his eyes.
"Good, cause I have a feeling it won't stay on for long."
He lets go of you and opens the door, revealing the private pool.
You try to regain control of your hammering heart, stepping inside the room. The pool is lit up by the bright moonlight filtering through the windows, casting a soft glow over the room.
Namjoon follows you in, closing the door behind him with a click. The sound echoes through the room, and you feel goosebumps break out on your skin.
Namjoon's eyes on you are heavy, his gaze scorching hot. You can feel his eyes roving over your body, burning through your clothes. He steps closer, closing the distance between you. His hand reaches out, fingers grazing your waist. His touch sends a jolt through you, goosebumps erupting on your skin.
"Let me take it off this shirt." he murmured
Your breath catches in your throat as his fingers slide under your shirt, his hands skimming along the bare skin of your waist. His fingers move higher, grazing the sides of your breasts, his touch sending shivers up your spine.
You nod, your mouth dry, unable to form words. Namjoon's hands slide up your body, gripping the hem of your shirt and peeling it off.
You stand there in your bikini, feeling exposed under his intense gaze. Namjoon's eyes rake over your body, a possessive heat in his eyes.
Namjoon's fingers trail over your belly, his eyes following the path his fingers take. He steps even closer, his body pressed up against yours. His hand moves up, over the swell of your breasts, fingers grazing over your skin. His touch is tantalizing, barely there, and it's driving you crazy.
"Let's dive in baby," he murmured. ''Come on.''
Your heart is pounding in your chest, your skin burning from the intensity of his touch. You nod, unable to form words, and let him lead you to the pool. The cool water feels good against your overheated skin as you step into the pool, the water reaching your waist. Namjoon follows suit, the water splashing around you.
''Cold?'' he murmured.
You shiver, the sudden drop in temperature a shock to your overheated skin.
"Yeah, a little." You reply, your voice trembling slightly.
Namjoon smirks, stepping closer to you. He places his hands on your hips, pulling you towards him.
"You'll warm up, don't worry." He murmured, his hands sliding over your back, pulling you flush against his chest.
Your breasts press against his chest, your skin sliding against his.
His arms wrap around you, holding you close. His hands slide up your back, his fingertips gliding over your spine and leaving goosebumps in their wake. His fingers find the strings of your bikini.
His fingers deftly untie the strings, the top of your bikini falling away and leaving your breasts exposed to him.
Your nipples harden in the cool air, your breath hitching in your chest. He cups your breasts in his hands, squeezing them.
A moan escapes your lips as he cups your breasts, his hands rough but gentle. His fingers teasingly graze your nipples, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. They pebble under his touch, your nipples stiffening.
“God, you’re perfect.” He murmured, his fingers continuing to tease your nipples, rolling them between his fingers.
Your legs spread instinctively, making room for him as he places himself between your thighs. His hands slide down your thighs, squeezing your flesh. He grabs your bikini bottom, pulling it to the side.
Your head falls back against his shoulder, your hands gripping his arms for support. His fingers pinch your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. He lifts you up. You sit down on the edge of the pool.
"Spit on my hand baby." he murmured.
You nod, reaching down and collecting saliva in your mouth. You then spit into his waiting hand, your face flushing red at the dirty act. He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Good girl." He murmured, his hand moving down to his shorts.
His fingers grip the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down just enough to free his cock. There's already a bead of precum forming at the tip, and he uses your spit to slide his hand up and down his length. He lets out a low groan, his eyes locking with yours.
He keeps his eyes on you, his hand working himself. The sight is mesmerizing, his cock hard and thick in his hand. He lets out a low groan.
"You make me so hard." He murmured, his hand tightening around the base of his cock.
You can only watch, your mouth dry, mesmerized by the sight of him. Your heart is pounding in your chest, your legs spreading wider. You're so close, you can almost feel how hard he is, how hot and hard he is for you.
You reach out, your hand grazing over his cock. He lets out a groan, his head falling back at the slightest touch.
“God….” he moaned. "Need you."
His grip on his cock tightens, his breaths coming in quick pants. His eyes lock on yours, dark with desire. "Get in the pool."
You swallow hard, your throat dry. You nod, getting up from the edge of the pool. You step into the water, the cool liquid embracing your body.
Namjoon follows close behind, his hands immediately finding your waist. He pulls you to the shallow side of the pool, pressing your back against the edge. The roughness against your skin makes you shiver.
Without a word, he pulls you up, wrapping your legs around him. He holds you up against the edge, his hands gripping your ass.
"Hold on." He murmured.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, your grip tight. He hikes you up higher, aligning his cock with your entrance. And then, with one swift thrust, he slides into you.
Your head falls back against the edge of the pool, a gasp falling from your lips. He fills you up completely
He lifts his head up, his eyes dark with desire. He takes your mouth in a passionate kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth. He swallows your moans, his hands moving to the back of your head to hold you in place. His hip snaps up, hitting that spot deep inside you.
Your back arches, your thighs clenching around him. You claw at his back, the pleasure coursing through you almost overwhelming. It’s intense. You pull away from his mouth, your breaths coming in short pants. He doesn’t stop his movements, his pace relentless.
“Too good." You gasp out.
He lets out a guttural groan, your words sending shivers down his spine.
“Yeah? You like that? Like how I’m filling you up?” he murmured.
Your nod, unable to form words as he continues to move inside of you. He’s hitting that spot each time, the sensation too much and not enough at the same time. His pace is relentless
"Yeah, god, want you.. all of you…. god, more." You gasp out, the words just a jumble of moans and pleads.
“Yeah baby?” He murmured, his grip on your hips almost bruising.
"You want more?” He punctuates each word with a hard thrust. “Is this not enough for you?” He asks, his tone low and rough. “Or do you want me to give you everything I’ve got?"
His words go straight to your core, his grip, and the roughness of his tone sending shivers down your spine. Your nails dig into his back, trying to hold on.
"Everything," you beg. "Everything, please."
He lets out a deep growl, his movements growing more urgent. He pushes deeper, harder, the pressure building up inside of you. It’s too much, too much, but not enough.
He leans forward, his head dropping to your ear.
“You want everything, huh?” he murmured. “Turn around."
You nod, your body too weak to do anything else. You turn around, your hands gripping the edge of the pool. Namjoon doesn’t waste any time. He grabs your hips, pulling you back towards him.
Without any warning, he slams into you from behind. You let out a strangled cry, your fingers scrabbling for purchase against the edge of the pool. He sets a ruthless pace, his hands holding you in place.
His hips slam into yours with each thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the pool.
Your body is completely at his mercy, the pleasure too intense to process. His grip is bruising on your hips, holding you in place. And yet, you want more. You push back on him, desperate for more.
“You wanted everything,” he murmured. “You’re getting it.”
His words are like a switch, turning you into a wanton mess under him.
He leans over you, his chest pressed against your back. His hands slide up your waist, trailing up your body to your breasts. He cups them in his hands, squeezing them roughly.
“You like that, huh?” He murmured, his fingers pinching hard on your nipples. “Like how I’m using you.”
You can only moaned in response, the roughness of the edge of the pool against your chest adding another layer of sensation. The water splashes around you, the sound echoing in the room. You can feel him everywhere, inside you, behind you, all over you.
It’s too much and you’re going to lose it soon
“Oh god, I’’m gonna- ah-“ you cry out.
His hand shoots up, grabbing your jaw and turning your head to the side. His mouth crashes into yours, his tongue invading your mouth. Your hands come up, grasping at his hair as he kisses you.
His tongue muffles your moans, but they were just replaced by the sound of the water sloshing around you as he continues to pound into your from behind. It fills the silence, his hips pushing against your ass, his skin sliding your skin..
You pull away from his mouth gasping for air, your lungs burning from the lack of oxygen.
“Not yet.” He murmured, his hands tight around your waist.
His pace is brutal, his hips slams into yours with a force that sends waves of pleasure through you. He’s gripping you like his life depends on it and you feel like you’re going to break. But you wanted this.
"You asked for this, didn’t you? You wanted me to give you everything." He murmured, his voice low and rough in your ear.
You nod, unable to form any words.You feel him thicken inside you, his pace picking up even more. He’s close, you can tell by the way he’s panting in your ear. And yet he doesn’t stop.
“Open your mouth baby.” He murmured, and you clench around him at his words.
You part your lips, opening your mouth obediently. His fingers slide into your mouth, filling it up. You suck on them, your tongue swirling around them as if it was his cock. You moan around his fingers, your tongue swirling around them. It’s filthy. It’s dirty.
"God," he growled, his fingers still in your mouth. "You need your mouth full don’t you? You need something to keep you full."
And then, just when you thought it couldn’t get any more intense, you feel him slide a third finger into your mouth, filling your mouth even further.
You moaned around his fingers, the sounds coming out muffled and obscene. You could feel your clit twitch and throb at his words. You needed him everywhere, you needed more. You tried to push back against him, your body crying out for more, for release.
“God, you’re so loud.” He groaned. “You’re going to get us caugh. Do you want someone to watch you again? huh?"
His hand moved to your jaw, tilting your face up, forcing you to look ahead. And there, in the far corner of the room, was a mirror.
You could see everything. You couldn’t look away. You could see the way you were bent over, your back arched and your ass up in the air. You could see his hips slamming into you from behind, the way his cock was covered in your juices.
You could see his face, dark and almost feral as he stares back at the mirror, his eyes fixed on yours face. Your face burned with humiliation and it only turned you on even more to see yourself like this.
“Seeing this turns you on, doesn’t it?” He murmured in your ear. "seeing yourself like this." Your hands scratched at the edge of the pool, your mind going blank as the pressure built up inside you.
His fingers pull out of your mouth, leaving you panting and gasping for air. His hands settle on your hips again, his grip tight as he pounds into you from behind. You could feel his balls slapping against your clit, the sensation driving you insane.
”God I’m close,” he groaned, his pace becoming even more unforgiving. His fingers dig into your hips, his hands holding you in place. You could feel him grow even harder inside you, the pressure almost too much to bear.
“Me too,” you managed to gasp out, your voice wrecked.
"You’re gonna take it all, aren’t you, huh? Take every last drop." He murmured, his pace becoming even more relentless. "God, fill you up so pretty. " he murmured, his grip on you tightening. "Come with me."
And with that, you’re tipped over the edge. A loud moan tears through your throat as your orgasm hits you, your body trembling and clenching around him.
He lets out a low groan, his fingers digging even deeper as he follows close behind. His hips still as he fills you up. His hand clenches around your jaw, “You’re so good to me, baby." He murmured. A shiver ran through your body as his words sunk in, your skin on fire from the sheer amount of pleasure coursing through you.
You collapse boneless on top of the edge of the pool, you panting for air. Namjoon slips out of you, leaving you feeling empty and drained. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. His chest is resting on your back, his breaths coming in short pants against your skin. No one says anything for several moments. The only sounds in the room were the soft slapping of the water, as it splashes around you, and the sound of your uneven breaths.
Then, finally, Namjoon lets out a low groan and straightens up. You feel his hands on your waist, turning you around to face him. You look up at him, and finds him looking down at you with a small smile on his face. His hair is messy, sticking to his forehead in damp clumps. His cheeks are tinged red, his lips red and slightly swollen. He looked absolutely wrecked. You’ve probably looked worse.
He reaches one hand out, pushing your hair out of your face. His hand cups your chin, tilting your face up. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
"You okay, angel?" He murmured, his hands running up and down your arms. You nod, unable to form words still. He smiles at you, his other hand reaching down to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
"Told you you'd warm up." He murmured, his grin turning smug. He reaches down, lifting you up bridal style. You wrap your arms around his neck, feeling too boneless to protest.
“You’re terrible, that was so dirty.” You groaned, burying your face into his neck. Your legs still felt week, your legs still shaking around his waist.
He laughs, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Just the way you like it, baby.” He murmured. He steps out of the pool, his arms still holding you up. The cool nighttime air hits your heated skin, causing goosebumps to pepper your skin. Namjoon lets out a low whistle at the sight of your naked body.
He carries you over to a nearby bench, sitting you down gently. He kneels down between your thighs, his hands running up and down your legs, chasing away the cold.
“You good? Need an ice pack for that perfect ass?” he murmured jokingly.
You laugh, shaking your head. "God no." You murmur, still feeling too boneless to move.
Namjoon chuckles, his hands still running up and down your legs, warming you up. He stands up, picking up your discarded bikini top from the ground. He hands it to you, a small smirk on his face.
You groan, reaching out to take the bikini from him. You put it back on, struggling a bit to hook it back together. Namjoon watches you with amusement, his eyes lingering on your exposed skin as you fumble with the straps.
He chuckles, his hands sliding up your back to help you put the top on properly. His fingers graze your back as he hooks up the straps, sending goosebumps erupting over your skin.
“You’re so cute, it’s almost painful.” He murmured, reaching out to help you when you struggled with the strap, his fingers grazing your skin.
You stick your tongue out at him, trying to hide the fact that you were secretly preening at his words.
“Fuck off.” You huffed.
“So rude.” He murmured.
You roll your eyes, trying to act nonchalant. “You love me.” You murmur, your breath hitching in your chest as his fingers trail over your skin. He chuckles, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your shoulder.
“Damn right I do.” He murmured against your skin.
Something about the way he said it, the possessiveness in his tone, has your stomach doing flips. You try to shake off the feeling as Namjoon sits down next to you on the bench.
“Come here.” He murmured, reaching out to pull you onto his lap. "Hug me."
You let out a small 'oomph' as he pulls you onto his lap, your legs straddling his hips. You wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into the crook of his neck like usual.
Namjoon lets out a satisfied hum, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist. The two of you sit there in comfortable silence, his fingers running up and down your back, tracing your spine.
After a few moments, Namjoon speaks up. “I hope we didn’t traumatize anyone.” He murmured. His tone is light, a hint of humor underlying his words.
You let out a small chuckle, lifting your head from his neck to look at him. "You know we did." You joked.
Namjoon lets out a low chuckle. "I love you, angel." He murmured, his hands running up and down your back.
You smile, pressing a soft kiss to his neck. "I love you too." You murmur against his skin. His hands slide up your back, reaching up to play with the hair at the nape of your neck.
He lets out a soft sigh, his arms tightening around you. You feel his nose nuzzle into your shoulder, his face buried into the crook of your neck.
“I wanna just stay like this forever.” He murmured.
"You'd get sick of me." You murmured, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.
Namjoon shakes his head, his hands sliding up to cup your face. He pulls back to look at you, his eyes soft.
"No, I wouldn’t." He murmured, his thumb grazing your cheekbone. "Never."
You feel your heart flutter at his words, your stomach doing flips. His gaze is unwavering, his eyes searching your face, as if he's trying to commit every feature to memory.
You take in his face too, tracing the outline of his jaw with your fingers. "Never?" You murmur, your voice soft and vulnerable.
Namjoon's hand slides to the back of your neck, holding you in place. His other hand remains on your cheek; his thumb strokes your bottom lip. "Never." He says, his voice firm, certain. He leans in, his lips hovering close to yours. "Not in a million years."
→ Pairing: Namjoon x reader (female)
→ AUs: non-idol, one-shot
-> Genres: couple
→ Warnings(s): pure smut, NSFW, +21, exhibitionism/voyeurism, public sex, against tree, doggy style, dirty talk, fantasizing, in the forest, pool sex, handjob, hardcore sex, fast and hard, rough, in front of strangers, multiple orgasms, multiple positions, spitting, hand job, overwhelming, overstimulation and more.
→ Rating: mature/explicit (this is mature/explicit content, so you have been warned.)
→ Word count: 12.7K
Author Notes:
Author Q is here,
Hello everyone.
It’s all about exhibitionism and voyeurism. If you'd prefer not to read this, please feel free to check out other stories. If you’d like to read it, please be aware of what you’re getting into.
Namjoon is your boyfriend, you and Namjoon and your and his friends decided to go on vacation to Jeju Island for 2 weeks, but you had a fight with Namjoon on the first day of your arrival place and your friends were embarrassed by you two.
You were sitting in a hotel room with your friend, it was 10 pm and almost all of your friends to a party at the club, including Namjoon.
"You and Joon really should make up, you're just spoiling the good mood, it's our first day here." your friend said.
"I know but he started it." You rolled your eyes.
Your friend sighed, "Just go make up with him, we both know you can't stand not talking to him for an entire two weeks."
"I can't believe he has this power over me." You rolled your eyes once more, annoyed that your friend was right.
Your friend laughed, "You know it's because you love him like crazy."
"I do, but his stubbornness is really a pain in the ass." You groaned, reluctantly getting up from the bed.
Your friend looked satisfied that you were finally going to talk things out with Namjoon.
"Now go, before I push you out of that damned door." your friend teased, giving you a light push towards the door.
With a huff, you finally left the hotel room, mentally preparing yourself for the conversation you were about to have with Namjoon.
The club music pulses through the air as you step inside, scanning the crowded space for Namjoon. After a few minutes, you spot him leaning against the bar, nursing a drink while Hoseok animatedly talks next to him. Taking a deep breath, you make your way over.
ge turns, his face unreadable for a moment before his eyes soften just slightly. He sets down his drink.
"Oh hi. Did you finally come to yell at me some more?" His voice is light but there's an underlying tension as he crosses his arms. Hoseok immediately makes an exaggerated exit, mouthing 'good luck' at you as he slips away into the crowd.
You glare at Hoseok as he scurries away, leaving you alone with Namjoon.
"I didn't come here to yell at you, I came here to talk," you say, trying to keep your voice level.
Namjoon raises an eyebrow skeptically. "Really? You've been giving me the silent treatment all day, so pardon me if I don't believe you."
You can't help but roll your eyes at his response.
"Oh, please. You weren't exactly being a saint yourself, you know."
Namjoon lets out a scoff. "Me? You're the one who overreacted in the first place over something stupid."
"Overreacting? You're the one who started it!"
You take a deep breath, trying to calm yourself down, but the anger is still bubbling just beneath the surface.
"You completely disregarded my opinion and brushed it off like it was nothing. Is it so hard to respect what I have to say for once?"
Namjoon's jaw tenses as he looks down at his drink, swirling the ice cubes before meeting your eyes again. His voice drops to that careful, measured tone he uses when he's trying not to escalate things.
"You're right. I should've listened better. But you shutting down and giving me the cold shoulder instead of talking to me? That hurt too." He runs a hand through his hair.
You're taken aback by the hint of vulnerability in his voice. It's rare for Namjoon to express his feelings so openly, especially when you're angry.
"I just... I needed some space to cool off. But you have a knack for getting under my skin sometimes, you know that?"
Namjoon lets out a dry chuckle. "Oh, believe me, the feeling is mutual."
A small smirk tugs at your lips despite yourself. "Yeah well... you're lucky I think your dumb face is cute."
Namjoon finally cracks a real smile at that, the tension visibly leaving his shoulders. He reaches out to gently flick your forehead. "And you're lucky I put up with your dramatic ass." The warmth in his eyes makes your heart do that stupid little flip it always does when he looks at you like that.
The bass from the club speakers thrums around you both as he nudges your shoulder. "Wanna get out of here? I know a quiet beach nearby where we can actually hear each other talk."
You can't help but smile back, the anger you felt earlier already starting to fade. You nod in agreement.
"Yeah, that sounds nice."
Namjoon finishes his drink in one gulp and sets down the glass, gesturing for you to follow him. He leads you out of the crowded club and into the cool night air.
The walk to the beach is quiet, but it's a comfortable kind of silence. You walk side by side, your shoulders brushing against each other occasionally.
The beach is deserted, save for a few scattered boats in the distance. The sand feels soft and cool under your feet as you and Namjoon walk along the shoreline. The waves crash gently in the moonlight, creating a soothing soundtrack.
You let out a sigh, enjoying the peaceful atmosphere. It feels like a world away from the club and your argument.
Namjoon stops and drops down onto a dry patch of sand, patting the spot next to him. "Come here."
You sit down beside him, the warmth of his body next to yours a comforting contrast to the cool night air. He puts his arm over your shoulder, pulling you a little closer. For a few moments, neither of you speaks. You just watch the waves roll in, lost in your thoughts.
Finally, Namjoon breaks the silence. "I am sorry." His voice is soft.
You lean your head against his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest.
"And I'm sorry too," you admit. "I should've talked to you instead of shutting you out."
Namjoon lets out a breath and nuzzles his nose into your hair. "We both messed up, huh?"
You nod slightly. "Yeah... we do seem to get into a lot of arguments for two people who supposedly love each other."
Namjoon snorts at that, but his grip on your shoulder tightens just a little.
"Love doesn't mean everything is going to be perfect and easy. We're gonna argue, we're gonna piss each other off. But we also know when to apologize and when to make up." He rubs his thumb over your shoulder absentmindedly. "I just don't like it when you give me the silent treatment."
You lift your head to look at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips. "And I don't like when you dismiss my opinions like they're unimportant. We both have things to work on."
He rolls his eyes, but there's a fond smile on his lips. "Yeah, yeah, we're both stubborn jerks. We're a match made in heaven."
A laugh bubbles out of you, the tension finally completely fading.
"Heaven? More like hell. We probably drive each other insane most of the time."
Namjoon laughs too, the sound deep and rich in his chest beneath your ear. "But you wouldn't have it any other way."
You can't deny it. Even with all the petty arguments and stubborn disagreements, there's a reason you've stuck together for this long.
"No, I wouldn't," you admit.
Namjoon presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, his hand reaching up to cup your cheek. "Good. Let's go to our room. It's been a long day, and I want to rest."
You nod in agreement, standing up and brushing the sand off your clothes. Namjoon takes your hand in his, lacing your fingers together. You start to head back to the hotel, the cool breeze pleasant against your skin.
As you walk, you can't help but feel a warm affection for the man next to you. He might drive you crazy sometimes, but you wouldn't have it any other way.
When you arrive back at the hotel, the lobby is mostly empty. The elevator ride up is silent, but it's a comfortable kind of silence this time. Namjoon's thumb brushes lightly against the back of your hand, a small gesture of affection.
As soon as you enter your room, Namjoon kicks off his shoes and practically collapses onto one of the beds. He groans and stretches his arms out, his shirt riding up to reveal a strip of toned skin.
Namjoon lets out a deep exhale, eyes already half-closed as he pats the space next to him without looking. "Come here angel," he mumbles, voice rough with exhaustion.
You can't help but laugh at his needy tone. But you oblige, slipping out of your shoes and climbing onto the bed next to him. Namjoon immediately wraps his arms around you, pulling you against his chest. He buries his face in your hair, his body warm and solid against yours.
You snuggle into his embrace, feeling your body relax against him. All the stress and tension from the day seem to melt away in his arms. Namjoon's hand rubs soothing circles on your back, his fingers tracing invisible patterns against your skin.
You close your eyes, letting the steady rhythm of his heartbeat lull you into a sense of peace.
Namjoon's voice is a low rumble against your ear. "I love you, you know."
Your heart skips a beat at his words, even though you've heard them countless times before.
"I love you too," you reply, your face still buried in the crook of his neck. "Even when you're a pain in the ass."
Namjoon laughs softly, squeezing you tighter.
He pinches your side playfully at that. "Look who's talking, Miss 'I-give-the-silent-treatment-for-fun'." His words are teasing but the hand stroking your hair is achingly gentle.
You can feel him press a sleepy kiss to your temple as he settles deeper into the pillows. "Now sleep. We're making up for lost time tomorrow - breakfast on the balcony, then that hiking trail Hoseok and Jimin won't stop raving about." His voice is already slurring with exhaustion.
The last thing you register before drifting off is the way his fingers instinctively tighten around your wrist - like even in sleep, he's making sure you won't go far.
The morning sunlight filters through the curtains, casting warm golden stripes across the tangled sheets. Namjoon stirs first, blinking sleepily at the unfamiliar ceiling before his gaze lands on you still curled against his chest. A slow, satisfied smile spreads across his face as he carefully extracts his arm from beneath you, trying not to wake you.
But the moment his warmth leaves your side, your brow furrows in protest. With a sleepy grumble, you blindly reach out and grab a fistful of his shirt, dragging him back down with surprising strength for someone half-asleep.
Namjoon chuckles, the sound vibrating through his chest as he lets himself be pulled back into the cocoon of blankets. "Guess we're sleeping in then," he murmurs, tucking your head under his chin with a contented sigh. Outside, the sound of waves crashing and distant seagulls creates the perfect lazy morning soundtrack.
You let out a content huff as you settle back into his arms, your head resting over his heart. You can feel it thumping steadily underneath you, a soothing rhythm that almost lulls you back to sleep.
Namjoon starts to run his hand through your hair, his touch gentle and almost absent-minded as he absently plays with the strands.
He breaks the comfortable silence, his voice soft and gravelly with sleep. "...We should probably get up before the others start banging on our door demanding brunch." But he makes no actual move to get up, perfectly content to stay tangled in the sheets with you.
You nuzzle deeper into his chest with a sleepy whine, tightening your grip on his shirt. "Five more minutes," you mumble against his skin, your voice thick with sleep.
Namjoon lets out that deep, rumbling laugh of his, the one that vibrates pleasantly against your cheek.
The sunlight shifts across the bed, warming your legs tangled with his. Neither of you moves. Outside, the faint sound of laughter floats up from the pool below—probably Jin and Jungkook already causing chaos. But here, in this quiet little nest, time feels deliciously suspended.
Namjoon's fingers trace idle patterns along your spine. "...This is nice," he murmurs, almost to himself. You hum in agreement, already drifting again to the rhythm of his heartbeat. The vacation can wait. Right now, this is exactly where you both want to be.
You're drifting off again when Namjoon's voice cuts through the drowsy haze.
"Hey."
His fingers under your chin tilt your face up, and you crack open your eyes, blinking against the morning light. And then your brain catches up—because god, he looks unfairly good. Tousled hair, warm eyes, sleepy smile. He brushes a thumb along your jawline, his touch sending a flutter through your stomach.
"As much as I am loving the koala impression right now," he teases, "We might need to actually get out of bed at some point."
You grumble again, wrapping yourself even more tightly around him. "But... warm."
Namjoon snorts, patting your ass indulgently. "Yeah, that's true. But I think the others are getting impatient."
Your protest turns into a reluctant sigh as his words sink in. You know he's right. The thought of getting up seems about as appealing as jumping into a lake during winter.
Namjoon gently disentangles himself from your grip, rolling out of bed. He stretches, the muscles in his back flexing under the white T-shirt he slept in. You don't bother hiding your appreciative stare.
Namjoon catches you staring and smirks, stretching a little more dramatically just to watch your eyes follow the movement. "Like what you see?" he teases, running a hand through his messy bedhead.
You throw a pillow at him with a sleepy laugh. "Stop showing off and help me get up, you conceited ass."
He dodges the pillow easily and grabs your ankles, yanking you toward the edge of the bed with a yelp from you. Before you can retaliate, he swoops down to press a quick, laughing kiss to your lips. "There. Now we're both up. Happy?"
You feign annoyance but the effect is ruined by the broad grin that spreads across your face as you push yourself upright. "You're a pain."
You're just about to swing your legs off the bed and then he wraps your legs around his waist.
Without warning, Namjoon scoops you up off the bed, hoisting you into his arms effortlessly. You let out an undignified squawk, clinging to his neck.
"Jesus, a little warning next time," you gasp, even though a thrill runs through you at how easily he handles you.
He laughs, shifting you into a more comfortable position against his chest. "But where's the fun in that?" He starts walking toward the bathroom, carrying you like you weigh nothing.
"Besides," he continues, "I like the noises you make when I catch you off guard." He punctuates the statement by giving your ass a playful spank.
He sets you down on the edge of the bathroom counter, standing between your legs and tilting your chin up to look at him.
Namjoon's expression softens as his thumbs brush along your cheekbones, his voice dropping to that quiet, intimate tone that still makes your pulse stutter after all this time. "You look beautiful in the morning light." He leans in, pausing just inches from your lips - close enough that you can feel his breath mingle with yours. "Even with the drool mark on your cheek."
You swat at his chest, but he catches your wrist mid-air, pressing a laughing kiss to your palm before finally, finally closing the distance.
"Just one kiss.." he whispered. "After that, we'll clean up and have breakfast."
His lips barely brush against yours, light as a feather, and you almost whimper at the teasing. You reach up to grip the front of his shirt, trying to pull him closer, but he leans just out of reach with a knowing grin.
"Ah-ah." He grabs hold of your wrists, pressing them down against the counter.
Your breath catches as Namjoon pins you in place, the muscles in his arms flexing under the thin material of his T-shirt. His eyes roam your face, his gaze lingering on your wide eyes and parted lips.
He leans forward, bringing his mouth close to your ear, his voice a low murmur that makes a shiver run down your spine. "If I start kissing you properly now, we won't be leaving this bathroom any time soon."
You're torn between wanting to smack him and wanting to melt right then and there. "Maybe I don't care," you manage to retort, proud that your voice doesn't waver.
Namjoon's grip tightens slightly, almost possessive, and it sends another jolt through you. His eyes darken as a smug smile curves his lips. "And as much as I'd love to take you right here against this counter..." He gives your thigh a light squeeze, making you shiver involuntarily. "...Not now."
A huff escapes you at the teasing, but there's no hiding the way your body reacts to his touch. He knows he has this power over you and he uses it shamelessly.
"Fuck you." you grumble, but there's no real heat in your tone. Namjoon chuckles, finally releasing your wrists to step back. He pats your thigh lightly. "Oh, I will."
time skip.
You and Namjoon finally make it to the hiking trail Hobi and Jimin have been raving about, and you have to admit, the view is stunning. Verdant mountains frame an endless blue sky as far as the eye can see, and even though it's a bit humid, the breeze feels refreshing against your skin.
Namjoon lets out a low whistle. "Okay, I'm starting to see why they couldn't shut up about this place. It's incredible."
"Yeah, it really is." You take a moment to just soak in the beauty of the landscape before digging your phone out of your backpack. "I should probably send Hobi and Jimin a picture. They'll never believe we actually made it out of bed."
Namjoon laughs and slings his arm around your shoulders, pulling you in for a quick selfie. You take a few shots, trying to capture the breathtaking view behind you.
You send off the pictures with a quick caption to the group chat before putting your phone away and turning your attention back to Namjoon. He's gazing out at the horizon with a thoughtful expression on his face, one arm still slung around your shoulders. You nudge him with an elbow.
"What are you thinking about?" you ask, taking in his contemplative expression.
Namjoon exhales slowly, his grip on your shoulder tightening just a fraction. "How I almost ruined this entire trip over something stupid." His eyes flicker with uncharacteristic vulnerability before he looks back at the view. "I don’t want to waste another second of it arguing with you."
He turns to face you fully, the mountain breeze ruffling his hair. "From now on, let’s just... enjoy it. Together." There’s a quiet intensity in his gaze that makes your breath catch, the same look he gets when he’s composing something important.
Your heart clenches in your chest at the rawness in his voice. You know how hard it is for him to open up, even to you. You step closer, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair in what you hope is a soothing gesture.
"Hey," you say softly, "we've had stupid fights before and we've always made up. This one was just a little longer than usual, that's all."
Namjoon covers your hand with his, leaning into your touch like a cat seeking warmth.
"Yeah, but... I don't know. It just felt different this time." He lets out a humorless laugh, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I guess it made me realize how much I hate fighting with you. And how much I hate going to bed knowing you're pissed at me."
The earnestness in his voice hits you hard, and you can't help but wrap your arms around his waist in a tight hug. He buries his face in your neck, his breath warm on your skin.
"I hate it too," you confess quietly. "I hate not being able to just talk things out like we usually do. It's like... a part of me is missing when we're mad at each other."
Namjoon's arms tighten around you in response, his embrace practically squeezing the air from your lungs. "Me too. It's like this weird emptiness that's... it sucks."
He pulls back just enough to place a soft kiss to your forehead. "Promise me we won't let it happen again. No more dumb arguments without talking it out. No more silent treatments."
You nod fervently, looking up at him with a determined expression. "Promise. No more stupid fights. No more ignoring each other."
Namjoon's expression softens when he sees how serious you are, his gaze searching your features as if he's making sure you mean it. Finally, he leans in and brushes a tender kiss along your jawline before murmuring against your skin.
"Good. I hate it when you give me the silent treatment anyway. Drives me crazy."
You can't help the small grin that spreads across your face at his admission. "Oh, yeah? Does it drive you crazy?"
You reach up to run a hand over his chest, fingers toying with the collar of his shirt in a way you know is more taunting than comforting. Namjoon’s eyes darken ever so slightly, but he doesn’t miss a beat.
"It does,” he says evenly, hands sliding down to grip your waist. “Makes me want to find ways to get your attention back on me."
You try to keep a straight face, but a shiver runs down your spine at his words. Before you can reply, he grips your waist tighter and pulls you closer, his body suddenly flush against yours.
He lowers his voice to a murmur that sends a shiver down your spine. "And when you're all quiet and sulky..." His hands slide under your shirt, fingers tracing light patterns against your bare skin. "God, you look so hot when you're mad."
Your brain practically short-circuits at the sudden contact, the feeling of his hands on your bare skin sending goosebumps across your flesh. You try to scoff, but the breathy sound that comes out only serves to make Namjoon smirk smugly.
"Can we keep walking?" you murmur, trying to ignore the heat pooling in your gut. Namjoon leans down, his lips grazing against the shell of your ear.
Namjoon's grip on your waist tightens, his lips dancing over the skin just below your ear as he lets out a low, smug chuckle.
"Trying to get away, angel?" His fingers lightly skim the waistband of your pants, dipping just below it to brush against the bare skin above your ass.
The sensation makes your knees weak, and you barely bite back a gasp. You're fully aware of how affected you're becoming, but Namjoon is clearly enjoying himself too much to back down.
You try to keep your voice steady as you speak, but your words come out as a breathy whisper. "We're in public, Joon."
Namjoon's hands slide completely under your shirt, his palms flattening against your stomach as he nuzzles his face into your shoulder. His breath is hot against your neck.
"We're in the middle of the mountains, no one's around." His hands slide higher, grazing your ribs. You swear you feel his lips curling into a smirk against your skin.
But despite the heat flaring in your gut, you try to keep a grip on rational thinking. "Someone could see us."
Namjoon seems unconcerned, his hands still exploring under your shirt, his fingers teasing the underside of your bra. His voice is a deep rumble in your ear. "Then let them see." He brushes your skin with the barest graze of his knuckles, sending electricity pulsing through your core. "Fuck, this sports shorts..."
You swallow hard, trying to get a handle on your breathing as Namjoon toys with the waistband of your shorts. It's getting increasingly difficult to form coherent thoughts, let alone words. You grab his wrists in a futile attempt to stop his hands from wandering. "I don't want anyone to see us."
Namjoon huffs, clearly amused by your feeble attempts to stop him. He nuzzles his face into your neck once more, his lips grazing your sensitive skin. "So you want me to stop?" His hands still, lingering just above your waistband.
His voice is low and taunting, but you know Namjoon well enough to know he's testing your resolve.
Your heart thumps wildly in your chest, torn between the thrill of the danger of getting caught and the desire coursing through your veins. But you manage to force out a reply. "Yes. We’re in public." You turn your head slightly to glare at him.
Namjoon's hands slide back up to your sides, fingers grazing your ribs through your shirt. He sighs disappointedly but there's a hint of a smirk on his face. "Fine, if you say so."
You try to regain some semblance of composure, straightening your shirt where it's rumpled from Namjoon's wandering hands. You ignore the throbbing ache between your legs, willing it to go away. "We should keep going." You can't quite keep the huskiness out of your voice.
Namjoon's grin widens, clearly pleased with the effect he has on you. But he obediently steps back, the glint in his eyes showing he's far from finished with you.
"Lead the way, angel.”
You can feel his gaze burning into your back as you start walking again, the air thick with palpable tension. You keep your eyes straight ahead, determined not to let him see how flustered you are. And yet, you can’t help the way your steps falter occasionally, your mind buzzing with memories of Namjoon's hands on your stomach, your waist, your chest.
The silence between you is charged, the sound of your feet against the gravel the only thing cutting through the tension.
The walk seems to stretch on for ages, each step a painful reminder of the desire coursing through your veins. But you refuse to look back at Namjoon, knowing that one look in his eyes would be enough to shatter your resolve.
After what feels like an eternity, Namjoon finally breaks the silence, his voice cutting through the air like a gunshot.
"You alright back there, sweetheart?" His tone is casual, almost innocent, as if he hadn't just reduced you to a mess a few minutes ago. You try to keep your reply nonchalant, even though your heart is beating out of your chest.
"I’m fine, why do you ask?" You don't dare look back at him but you can feel the heat of his gaze boring into your back.
Namjoon lets out a low, knowing chuckle, but he keeps his voice light. "Just checking. You've been pretty quiet."
You can practically hear the smirk in his voice, and it takes every ounce of your willpower not to snap back and tell him exactly what he’s doing to you. Instead, you force out a scoff. "Can't a person enjoy the scenery in peace?"
Namjoon's footsteps quicken, closing the distance between you. "Oh, you're enjoying the scenery, huh?" His tone is low and amused. The smug bastard seems to be having way too much fun with this.
You can feel his presence right behind you, the heat radiating from his body making you shiver.
"Yeah, the mountains are beautiful." You manage to get the words out without your voice cracking, though it's a wonder considering how dry your throat suddenly is.
Namjoon's hand brushes against the small of your back, the touch almost scorching even through the fabric of your shirt. You inhale sharply, his proximity making it impossible to think straight.
His voice is barely above a whisper, right by your ear. "They are, but I think I prefer something else right now."
His other hand finds its way to your hip, pulling you back against his chest. His breath is warm against your neck. "You say we're in public... but I remember you said you wanted to try exhibitionism."
Your brain stutters for a second, struggling to process his words past the fog of desire clouding your thoughts. You remember that conversation, but you never expected Namjoon of all people to bring it up.
His grip on your waist tightens, fingers digging into your skin. His chest is pressed against your back, and you can feel his rapid heartbeat matched with your own.
His next words are more than a little smug. "You're thinking about it, right? Admit it."
You swallow hard, torn between the urge to give in to the fire burning in your core and the knowledge that anyone could see you right now.
"...Maybe." You reply grudgingly, your voice coming out breathy betraying your efforts to keep a level tone.
Namjoon's hands slide under your shirt again, hot against your skin. His mouth brushes the shell of your ear. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?" His hands slide higher, thumbs grazing the underside of your bra. "Being out here, out in the open. Anyone could see us." His hips grind against your ass and you can feel his growing hardness pressing into you. "Anyone could see how affected you are."
You can't stop the moan that escapes your lips at the sensation, hips bucking helplessly back against his.
The feeling of him, hard against your ass makes your legs weak, and you stumble forward a little. Namjoon's hand on your waist steadies you, his grip firm.
His nose brushes the sensitive skin of your neck, a quiet laugh against your ear. "I was right, huh?" He sounds far too self-s satisfied, knowing exactly what he’s doing to you.
His hands slide higher, palming your breasts through your bra. "Tell me angel."
Your mind is swimming, the feel of Namjoon's hands on your nipple making you squirm. But you manage to bite back another moan.
"Maybe." You repeat, your voice cracking at the end.
Namjoon's hands leave your breasts, sliding back down to your waist. His hands feel almost possessive gripped on your hips.
"No, no, no." He tsks, his hands tightening the grip. "I think we should try being more honest with each other, don’t you agree?" His thumbs dig into your hip bones. "Be honest with me."
Your mind is too overwhelmed to come up with a sassy reply. So, instead you nod, trying to find the will to speak without moaning.
"Yes." You manage to choke out.
Namjoon's hands trail over your stomach, his touch lighting up every nerve in your body.
"Good girl." His voice is a low purr in your ear, his thumbs hooking into the waistband of your shorts. "Now tell me... what are you thinking about right now?" He gives your shorts a tug, pushing them lower on your hips.
The feeling of the fabric sliding over your skin sends a shiver through you, the night air suddenly feeling cool against your overheated skin. You let out an involuntary gasp, feeling the goosebumps rise all over your body. Your brain struggles to form a coherent thought.
"I'm... I'm thinking..." You struggle to speak, feeling your shorts being pushed halfway down your thighs.
Namjoon's hands slide back over the bare skin of your ass, squeezing possessively. His voice is a low murmur against your neck.
"I am listening angel." he murmured.
You can barely form a sentence without moaning, your brain hazy with want.
"I'm thinking that... that someone... could see us." You manage to gasp out. Namjoon's hands still on your hips, his fingers twitching against your skin. "And fuck.. that makes me so wet.."
You can almost feel the smug smirk against your neck.
"Good, we’re being honest with each other." His hands slide lower, thumbs hooking into the waistband of your panties. "Keep talking."
You have to concentrate to keep your knees from buckling, your legs shaking as Namjoon's hands pull your soaked underwear down your thighs.
"I'm... I'm thinking that.. " you whispered.
Namjoon's fingers trail teasingly up the inner part of your thigh, his words almost a taunt against your ear.
"Use that dirty mouth of yours, baby."
You can't stop the soft whine at his fingers barely grazing over your clit. Your hips try to grind down on his fingers for some relief, but his other hand grips your hip, holding you still. "Fuck..” you breathe out helplessly.
You can feel Namjoon's smile against your neck. "You're dripping." He murmards, fingers brushing against your folds. "Just look at you. Such a mess already.." His fingers slide through your folds with ease, teasing your opening.
His voice lowers into a growl, low enough not to carry. "Tell me baby, you like this right? out here in the open, where anyone could see us, where you're so exposed... so free."
Your legs feel weak, your whole body trembling as Namjoon's fingers toy with your slit. You clench your eyes shut, focusing on the sensations.
"God... Yes." You whine, your voice already breaking. "I liked it."
Namjoon's fingers withdraw from your soaked folds, and you can hear the sound of his zipper being undone. "Turn around."
You obey immediately, turning around to face him. Your eyes rake over his face, taking in his flushed cheeks and the way his jaw clenches. His eyes dart behind you for a split second, looking at something behind you.
His hands grip your thigh, the roughness of his palms sending shivers up to your core. "Bend over."
It's an order, and you obey eagerly, leaning forward to grip your hands against the rough bark of the tree in front of you. Your legs feel like mush almost immediately, but you manage to stay put.
Namjoon stands behind you, his hand running up your leg. “Spread them more.” His voice is dark and commanding. Your legs move, spreading further apart.
You hear the sound of Namjoon spitting, and a moment later, the head of his cock prods against your leaking slit. You let out a gasp, feeling him press against your entrance, just barely spreading you.
"You're so wet." Namjoon lets out a low groan.
You whine at that, unable to deny his words, but before you can reply, he pushes inside of you with a powerful thrust. Your moan echoes through the night air, the sudden stretch of your walls around him making your hands grip the bark of the tree tightly.
The feel of him inside of you is overwhelming, and you try to muffle your mewls in your sleeve, your legs almost giving out. You feel his fingers dig into the skin of your thigh, keeping you upright.
He starts a steady rhythm, his thrusts deep and hard. He leans forward, covering your body with his, his chest pressing against your back. He growls near your ear, voice low and rough. "You'd let me do anything. I could bend- Oh fuck, someone is coming."
Your body freezes, dread sinking like a stone in your stomach. You manage to peek over your shoulder, not able to see anything from this angle. Someone is nearby. Your heart hammers against your ribcage, your whole body tense.
But Namjoon holds you in place, not slowing his pace for a second.
His hands grip your waist, keeping you pressed against the tree as he continues to piston his hip, not giving you a chance to adjust to the new angle. "They're coming closer."
You can hear the steady crunch of footsteps on the gravel trail, moving closer to you guys. You try to pull away, but Namjoon holds you firmly. "Shhhh."
His hand clamps over your mouth, effectively muffling your moans as you hear the sound of approaching footsteps. You can't make out the conversation, but you can hear the deep timbre of a male voice and a soft laugh.
Namjoon doesn't slow down for a second, his pace unrelenting as the voices get louder.
The voices draw closer, and you can make out the words of the men's conversation now. It's two guys, seemingly lost and trying to find their way to the parking lot. They're only a few meters away, on the other side of the tree you're pressed against. They turned the corner now, and they see you.
Your body goes taut as you watch the two guys notice the two of you, their conversation faltering and then stopping entirely. They stand there, frozen in surprise. Your body shudders helplessly, the adrenaline coursing through your body.
Namjoon doesn't stop his movements, not even now that the men are standing just a few feet away from you.
Their eyes go wide, and you can see one of them nudge the other, whispering something. Their gazes are firmly locked on you and Namjoon.
Namjoon he leans over you, voice rough in your ear. "Look at their eyes."
You take a peek over your shoulder in their direction, and sure enough, the two guys' eyes are locked on you. You can see their Adam's apple bob as they swallow.
One of them opens his mouth, as if to speak, but whatever words he was going to say seem to get lodged in his throat.
"They want you baby. They want to be me." Namjoon murmured, his pace still consistent as the men gawk at you.
You can see one of them move awkwardly, as if trying to adjust his pants. You bite down on your lip, the heat in your stomach growing as their gaze roams over your body.
"Yeah, that one there. He can't take his eyes off you." Namjoon huffs a laugh, sounding almost amused.
One of them is definitely still staring at you, his eyes locked on your legs.The other one has now noticed, too, staring at the two of you with open interest. It's one thing thinking someone could stumble upon you, but the fact that they're watching you?
Namjoon lets out a low, possessive growl in your ear. "They're staring at you angel." He bites down on your neck playfully, and you barely suppress a gasp.
The two men continue staring, mouths open as they take in the scene in front of them. One of them whispers something to the other. You can't make out the words, but you can tell they're both enthralled by the show.
Namjoon's hands grip your hips tighter, possessively. "They're not even trying to look away. What do you think they're thinking right now, sweetheart?"
You can practically feel their gazes burning into your back.
Your heart is hammering in your chest, the mixed emotions inside of you almost overwhelming.
"God... They're still watching." You choke out, your voice hoarse.
Namjoon's fingers dig into your skin possessively. "Yeah, they are. Because that's all they can do—watch." He punctuates each word with another deep thrust.
One of the men lowers his hand to his pants, trying to adjust the bulge in them.
You swallow hard, watching as the man's hand lingers for a second longer than necessary. He looks away when he realizes you're watching.
Namjoon's voice is smug against your ear. "He's hard, just for you."
Sure enough, the other man's hand has drifted down to his pants now, trying to do the same as his friend.
Your body is taut as a bowstring, the situation both mortifying and exhilarating. "Are they.. are they touching themselves?" You manage to whisper.
Namjoon's hands tighten on you. "Yeah, they do." The roughness in his voice tells you all you need to know about how he feels.
The two guys are still standing there, unmoving. The first one drops his hand down again, palming himself through his pants again.
Namjoon lets out a low growl, the possessiveness in his tone all the more apparent now.
"They want you more than anything right now, don't they?" He pulls you back, making you take more of him.
You nod desperately, words eluding you. The men seem to be transfixed, their eyes glued to your body. The first one gives up, his hand rubbing his bulge shamelessly now.
Namjoon lets out a low laugh, the smug satisfaction evident in his voice. "They can't help themselves." He thrusts into you harder, the roughness of his voice betraying his control slipping.
Your eyes are still locked with the second guy, his hand now mimicking his friend. His eyes are dark, and you swear you can see his tongue dart out to lick his lips. You let out a strangled gasp. "Oh god, they're... Oh god."
Namjoon lets out another growt, hands gripping at your waist possessively. "Yeah, look at them. You drive them crazy, angel. I bet they'd do anything to be in my place right now." His voice is rough but reverent.
The second guy is practically undoing his pants now, his hand visibly squeezing his bulge. You can feel yourself dripping around Namjoon's cock, the thought of them watching you making you clamp down around him.
You're starting to lose control of your body, hips bucking involuntarily against Namjoon's. You're on the edge of coming.
A low, guttural sound rumbles from Namjoon's chest. His hands hold you in place, almost possessively. "They want you so badly. They'd give anything to touch you, to be inside you."
You can't stop your head from rolling back on his shoulder, your hand moving to grip his thigh. "Oh god... They look... So good."
The man's other hand is squeezing the base of his cock now, the veins on his forearm standing out. His eyes dart back up to yours, and the sight of him sends a shiver up your spine. His chest heaves as if he's panting. He stares at you for a few seconds before looking away again.
Namjoon's voice drops to a deep growl in your ear. "They're desperate, angel. Desperate." He punctuates the last word with a hard thrust. "They're aching for you."
You moan aloud, no longer caring if they hear you. The man's breaths are getting heavier, his hand moving faster. "Oh god." You breathe out, struggling to stay upright.
Namjoon's hands grip your hips tightly, possessively. "Yeah, they're desperate for you. All they can do is watch you get filled over and over again, getting what they'll never have." His voice is rough, possessive. "Because you're mine."
Those words send a shiver down your spine, making you clench around his cock even tighter. The guy's hand jerks faster, his eyes rolling back in his head.
"Oh god, Namjoon... " you manage to gasp out. You can feel his grip on your hips tighten to almost painful levels at your words.
Namjoon's pace is relentless, his grip on your hips unyielding. "Yeah, angel?" He pants out, voice low and rough. "You close?"
You nod desperately, your hips bucking against him. The tension in your stomach is almost unbearable. "God, yes. I'm close." You manage to get out.
The guy lets out a strangled noise, his hips twitching with each stroke. His eyes are locked on you, almost glazed over.
You can feel Namjoon's grip on you tighten possessively. "Yeah? You gonna come for me, baby?" He whispers in your ear, voice rough and uneven. He leans forward slightly, changing the angle of his thrusts.
Your eyes flutter closed, your fingers clawing at the tree trunk in front of you. "Oh god, yes. I'm gonna come." You manage to gasp out in a whimper.
The guy is now letting out breathy moans, his hand working faster and faster. His eyes are locked on your face, almost pleading.
Namjoon's grip on your waist is almost bruising as he increases his pace, his thrusts growing more erratic. "Yeah, come for me, angel. Let them hear you." His voice is raspy, rough with desire.
Your head rolls back on his shoulder, your neck exposed and bared to him. "Oh gods, I'm coming." You moan out, your voice echoing through the night air.
The guy's hands move away from his cock, clenching into fists at his sides. He lets out a low, strangled sound, looking close to tears. His eyes are still locked on you, watching.
Namjoon lets out a deep groan at your words, his hands holding you in place. "Oh, God, you're so good to me." He pants out, voice rough and uneven. "That's it, come for me."
Your body is wound up so tight, and the sight of the man's desperation sends you over the edge. You come with a gasp, legs shaking wildly as the orgasm washes over you. It takes all of Namjoon's strength to keep you upright, his hands gripping your hips.
Your knees almost give out, your body going limp against Namjoon's chest. His hands hold you up, his grip on your hips a little painful.
"Good girl." He murmurs, his mouth against your ear.
You're still trying to catch your breath, your body wrung out and boneless. You can feel Namjoon's rapid heartbeat against your back, his body trembling ever so slightly.
You slowly turn your head, making eye contact with the second guy. He looks wrecked, his breathing heavy and raspy.
His eyes are still locked on you, his gaze dark and intense. But he doesn't move, his body taunt like a bowstring.
You hear Namjoon chuckle darkly behind you."Your fantasy comes to life angel."
Your mind is a mess, still reeling from your orgasm. You struggle to form coherent thoughts, your face heating up under the guys gaze.
"Oh god." You murmur, burying your face in Namjoon's neck. He lets out a low laugh against your ear, his grip on your hips tightening possessively.
"They left. Look at me angel. " Namjoon murmurs, pressing a soft kiss top of your head.
You lift your head up, still feeling a little dizzy. Your neck is still slightly sore from Namjoon's grip.
You look around, and sure enough the two guys are nowhere to be found.
Namjoon leans forward, his chin resting on your shoulder. "So how was that, sweetheart?" He asks, voice nonchalant.
You're still trying to process what happened, trying to control your breathing.
"Surreal." You manage to say, your mind conjuring up the image of the two men watching you. "That was... insane."
Namjoon lets out a low chuckle, his breath hot against your neck. "Surreal huh? Did you enjoy it?"
His hands slide up your waist, his fingers tracing patterns over your shirt.
"I did.. You?" you murmured
He presses a lingering kiss to the sensitive skin just below your ear. "You want the honest answer angel?" He murmurs against your neck.
You shiver at the sensation, goosebumps running down your spine. "Yeah." You murmur, still trying to regain control over your breathing.
His hands continue to roam over your body, seemingly unable to keep them to himself. "Then, I loved it." He murmured, voice smug. "I loved the way they were looking at you, how desperate they were. But most of all..."
You can't help but shiver as his hands grip your hips possessively again. "Yeah?" You whisper, your mind still reeling from everything that just happened. "Most of all?"
Namjoon's mouth brushes against the shell of your ear, his voice low and rough. "I loved the fact that they'll never have what I have.." His hands give your hips a squeeze. "You."
time skip.
You're lounging on loby, mindlessly scrolling through your phone with your friend. Namjoon is out with his friends.
"Hey." Your friend Minsoo says suddenly, catching your attention. "Is it just me or have Namjoon's friends always been lowkey hot? Like Jimin.. Fuck I wish he fuck me."
You nearly choke on your ice cold water, your phone dropping to your lap. "What?" You sputter out, trying to process her words. She's not wrong. "Jimin? Since when?" you laughed.
Minsoo rolls her eyes, a smirk playing at her lips.
"Don't tell me you haven't noticed." She crosses her legs, leaning back against the couch cushions. "I've always had a thing for him. Ever since I first met him. He's just so… Ugh." She lets out a sigh, fanning herself dramatically. "He's so hot."
You raise an eyebrow, a grin spreading across your face. "I didn't know you had a crush on him."
Minsoo rolls her eyes again, shaking her head.
"Don't get that smug look on your face." She huffs. "I've had a thing for him since you introduced us."
Your smirk widens. "Well, well, well look at that."
Minsoo playfully swats at your shoulder. "Shut up." She huffs, a hint of pink spreading across her cheeks. "It's not a big deal."
You can't help but chuckled, shaking your head. "It is a big deal if you've had a crush on him forever and never said anything."
Minsoo rolls her eyes again, a defensive edge to her voice. "What's the point of saying anything? He's your boyfriend's friend. You know how weird friendships can get when feelings are involved."
You shrug, feigning nonchalance. "Not really. My and Namjoon's friendship didn't change at al—"
She interrupts you. "No offense, but you two were practically made for each other."
You can’t argue with that. It's a fact. But still, you can't help but poke at Jill just a little bit more.
"But Jimin could still be interested in you." You can't help but tease.
Minsoo scoffs, shaking her head. "I seriously doubt it. Have you seen the guy? He's gorgeous. He could have any girl he wants."
You laugh at Minsoo's self-deprecating comment, shaking your head. "He is gorgeous. But I think you're underestimating yourself."
She looks at you skeptically. "Oh really?" Sarcasm laces her voice.
You nod, leaning back against the couch. "I'm being serious. You're pretty, smart, funny, and you're successful. He'd be stupid not to be interested in you."
Minsoo huffs, trying to downplay it. "It's easy for you to say, your boyfriend is literally a god among men."
You can't help but smile at the compliment. But you also can't resist the opportunity to needle your friend a little more. "You have a point. But Jimin could still be into you, ya know?"
Minsoo rolls her eyes again, but a small smile plays at the edge of her lips. "Let a girl dream, okay?"
You laugh, shaking your head at Jill's stubbornness.
"You're missing my point, Minsoo. It's not just about looks or successes. It's about what you can offer." You say softly.
"You're smart, witty, funny. You have a heart of gold. Those are things he can't just find anywhere."
Your friend lets out a sigh, her defenses seeming to lower slightly. "But what if I'm not his type?"
You can't help but roll your eyes at Jill's insecurities. "Minsoo, who cares about types? Types are stupid."
She looks at you skeptically. "You're only saying that because Namjoon is basically your ideal type."
You shrug, a small smile playing at your lips. "True. But I didn't fall for him because he fit my type. I fell for him because he's him."
Jill sigh, still unconvinced. "God, you're such a sap."
You throw a pillow at her, laughing. "And you're such a cynic."
She dodges the pillow easily, sticking out her tongue at you. "I'm just realistic."
You let out an exaggerated huff, crossing your arms. "Realistic my ass. oh perfect fucking timing. They're coming, I can hear them."
Minsoo's expression changes instantly, her eyes widening and her body going tense. She smoothens out her clothes, running a hand through her hair.
"Oh god, I look like a mess." She mutters, trying to fix her disheveled appearance.
You resist the urge to roll your eyes. "You always say that." You murmur.
Minsoo shoots you a panicked glare. "This time I actually do." She says frantically.
The sound of Namjoon’s deep voice echoing through the foyer suddenly fills the space. Minsoo instantly straightens up, trying to look composed.
You can hear the rest of the guys laughing and chattering but Namjoon's voice stands out the most, your heart skipping a beat as usual. Minsoo is practically vibrating next to you.
"I look fine right? I don't look like I just rolled out of bed or anything right?" She asks, still attempting to fix her hair.
You roll your eyes, shaking your head. "You look fine. You're overthinking."
Minsoo doesn't seem convinced, still messing with her hair. "I should've worn something fancier. I look so basic."
You roll your eyes again. "You look great. Stop being ridiculous."
Namjoon and Jimin walk into the lobby. Minsoo immediately goes stiff, her cheeks turning a bright red as Jimin’s eyes land on her.
"Hello beautiful ladies." Namjoon murmured and smiled.
Minsoo is practically malfunctioning next to you, her eyes locked on Jimin. "Hi." She croaked out. You have to resist the urge to facepalm.
You exchange a glance with Namjoon, trying to hide your smirk. He raises his eyebrow slightly, clearly finding the situation amusing.
"I am so sorry Jill. It’s okay if we leave you alone with Jimin, right? We need to go back to the room with Y/N." Namjoon smiled.
Minsoo's eyes flickered away from Jimin to Namjoon, her face red.
"Y-yeah, it’s fine." She stutters out, still avoiding eye contact with Jimin. You exchange another glance with Namjoon, this time unable to hold back your smirk. He gives you a subtle nod, clearly enjoying the situation.
Namjoon wrapped an arm around your waist, pulling you closer to his side.
"Great. I'm going to borrow her, then." He murmured.
Jimin's eyes flicker to Namjoon's hand on your waist, a flicker of something unrecognizable crossing his face for just a split second. He quickly schooled his expression, turning back to Minsoo.
Minsoo manages to drag her gaze back to Jimin, her cheeks still flushed. She tries to summon a casual tone but fails miserably.
"S-sure, go ahead." She manages to squeak out.
Namjoon nods, then steers you away from the couches, hand still possessively on your waist.
As you walk away, you can feel Jimin's eyes on your back, and you can practically feel the tension between him and Minsoo from the distance.
Namjoon guides you down the long corridor, his grip relaxed but still possessively on your waist. He glances at your face, a smug smirk playing at the corner of his lips.
"Lets go baby." he murmured.
You try to act nonchalant, but you can't help the way your heart races as Namjoon’s hand rests possessively on your waist, the weight of it both comforting and exhilarating. You shoot him a sidelong glance, trying to appear unaffected.
"Going somewhere?" you ask casually, though the effect is ruined by the breathiness of your voice.
Namjoon doesn’t miss the hitch in your voice, his smirk growing wider.
"Just taking you private pool." His hand slides lower, possessively grabbing your hip, pulling you a little closer.
Your heart skips a beat in your chest, the possessiveness in his grip making your knees feel weak. You clear your throat, trying to hide the effect his touch has on you.
"Private pool, huh?" You murmur, feigning disinterest.
Namjoon raises an eyebrow, the smug smirk still on his face. He stops in front of a door, turning to face you. His hand on your hip tugs you even closer, leaving barely any space between your bodies. "I hope you're wearing your bikini."
Your heart is pounding now, his proximity making it hard to think straight. You nod, unable to form a coherent sentence as his fingers dig into your hip possessively.
"Yeah, I am." You manage to get out, your words coming out breathy.
His other hand reaches up to push a strand of hair behind your ear, his fingers lingering on your earlobe. His thumb brushes against your neck, feeling the rapid pulse throbbing beneath your skin. His gaze flicks between your eyes and your lips, a smug glint in his eyes.
"Good, cause I have a feeling it won't stay on for long."
He lets go of you and opens the door, revealing the private pool.
You try to regain control of your hammering heart, stepping inside the room. The pool is lit up by the bright moonlight filtering through the windows, casting a soft glow over the room.
Namjoon follows you in, closing the door behind him with a click. The sound echoes through the room, and you feel goosebumps break out on your skin.
Namjoon's eyes on you are heavy, his gaze scorching hot. You can feel his eyes roving over your body, burning through your clothes. He steps closer, closing the distance between you. His hand reaches out, fingers grazing your waist. His touch sends a jolt through you, goosebumps erupting on your skin.
"Let me take it off this shirt." he murmured
Your breath catches in your throat as his fingers slide under your shirt, his hands skimming along the bare skin of your waist. His fingers move higher, grazing the sides of your breasts, his touch sending shivers up your spine.
You nod, your mouth dry, unable to form words. Namjoon's hands slide up your body, gripping the hem of your shirt and peeling it off.
You stand there in your bikini, feeling exposed under his intense gaze. Namjoon's eyes rake over your body, a possessive heat in his eyes.
Namjoon's fingers trail over your belly, his eyes following the path his fingers take. He steps even closer, his body pressed up against yours. His hand moves up, over the swell of your breasts, fingers grazing over your skin. His touch is tantalizing, barely there, and it's driving you crazy.
"Let's dive in baby," he murmured. ''Come on.''
Your heart is pounding in your chest, your skin burning from the intensity of his touch. You nod, unable to form words, and let him lead you to the pool. The cool water feels good against your overheated skin as you step into the pool, the water reaching your waist. Namjoon follows suit, the water splashing around you.
''Cold?'' he murmured.
You shiver, the sudden drop in temperature a shock to your overheated skin.
"Yeah, a little." You reply, your voice trembling slightly.
Namjoon smirks, stepping closer to you. He places his hands on your hips, pulling you towards him.
"You'll warm up, don't worry." He murmured, his hands sliding over your back, pulling you flush against his chest.
Your breasts press against his chest, your skin sliding against his.
His arms wrap around you, holding you close. His hands slide up your back, his fingertips gliding over your spine and leaving goosebumps in their wake. His fingers find the strings of your bikini.
His fingers deftly untie the strings, the top of your bikini falling away and leaving your breasts exposed to him.
Your nipples harden in the cool air, your breath hitching in your chest. He cups your breasts in his hands, squeezing them.
A moan escapes your lips as he cups your breasts, his hands rough but gentle. His fingers teasingly graze your nipples, the sensation sending shivers down your spine. They pebble under his touch, your nipples stiffening.
“God, you’re perfect.” He murmured, his fingers continuing to tease your nipples, rolling them between his fingers.
Your legs spread instinctively, making room for him as he places himself between your thighs. His hands slide down your thighs, squeezing your flesh. He grabs your bikini bottom, pulling it to the side.
Your head falls back against his shoulder, your hands gripping his arms for support. His fingers pinch your nipples, sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. He lifts you up. You sit down on the edge of the pool.
"Spit on my hand baby." he murmured.
You nod, reaching down and collecting saliva in your mouth. You then spit into his waiting hand, your face flushing red at the dirty act. He smirks, a mischievous glint in his eyes.
"Good girl." He murmured, his hand moving down to his shorts.
His fingers grip the waistband of his shorts, pulling them down just enough to free his cock. There's already a bead of precum forming at the tip, and he uses your spit to slide his hand up and down his length. He lets out a low groan, his eyes locking with yours.
He keeps his eyes on you, his hand working himself. The sight is mesmerizing, his cock hard and thick in his hand. He lets out a low groan.
"You make me so hard." He murmured, his hand tightening around the base of his cock.
You can only watch, your mouth dry, mesmerized by the sight of him. Your heart is pounding in your chest, your legs spreading wider. You're so close, you can almost feel how hard he is, how hot and hard he is for you.
You reach out, your hand grazing over his cock. He lets out a groan, his head falling back at the slightest touch.
“God….” he moaned. "Need you."
His grip on his cock tightens, his breaths coming in quick pants. His eyes lock on yours, dark with desire. "Get in the pool."
You swallow hard, your throat dry. You nod, getting up from the edge of the pool. You step into the water, the cool liquid embracing your body.
Namjoon follows close behind, his hands immediately finding your waist. He pulls you to the shallow side of the pool, pressing your back against the edge. The roughness against your skin makes you shiver.
Without a word, he pulls you up, wrapping your legs around him. He holds you up against the edge, his hands gripping your ass.
"Hold on." He murmured.
You wrap your arms around his shoulders, your grip tight. He hikes you up higher, aligning his cock with your entrance. And then, with one swift thrust, he slides into you.
Your head falls back against the edge of the pool, a gasp falling from your lips. He fills you up completely
He lifts his head up, his eyes dark with desire. He takes your mouth in a passionate kiss, his tongue delving into your mouth. He swallows your moans, his hands moving to the back of your head to hold you in place. His hip snaps up, hitting that spot deep inside you.
Your back arches, your thighs clenching around him. You claw at his back, the pleasure coursing through you almost overwhelming. It’s intense. You pull away from his mouth, your breaths coming in short pants. He doesn’t stop his movements, his pace relentless.
“Too good." You gasp out.
He lets out a guttural groan, your words sending shivers down his spine.
“Yeah? You like that? Like how I’m filling you up?” he murmured.
Your nod, unable to form words as he continues to move inside of you. He’s hitting that spot each time, the sensation too much and not enough at the same time. His pace is relentless
"Yeah, god, want you.. all of you…. god, more." You gasp out, the words just a jumble of moans and pleads.
“Yeah baby?” He murmured, his grip on your hips almost bruising.
"You want more?” He punctuates each word with a hard thrust. “Is this not enough for you?” He asks, his tone low and rough. “Or do you want me to give you everything I’ve got?"
His words go straight to your core, his grip, and the roughness of his tone sending shivers down your spine. Your nails dig into his back, trying to hold on.
"Everything," you beg. "Everything, please."
He lets out a deep growl, his movements growing more urgent. He pushes deeper, harder, the pressure building up inside of you. It’s too much, too much, but not enough.
He leans forward, his head dropping to your ear.
“You want everything, huh?” he murmured. “Turn around."
You nod, your body too weak to do anything else. You turn around, your hands gripping the edge of the pool. Namjoon doesn’t waste any time. He grabs your hips, pulling you back towards him.
Without any warning, he slams into you from behind. You let out a strangled cry, your fingers scrabbling for purchase against the edge of the pool. He sets a ruthless pace, his hands holding you in place.
His hips slam into yours with each thrust, the sound of skin slapping against skin echoing in the pool.
Your body is completely at his mercy, the pleasure too intense to process. His grip is bruising on your hips, holding you in place. And yet, you want more. You push back on him, desperate for more.
“You wanted everything,” he murmured. “You’re getting it.”
His words are like a switch, turning you into a wanton mess under him.
He leans over you, his chest pressed against your back. His hands slide up your waist, trailing up your body to your breasts. He cups them in his hands, squeezing them roughly.
“You like that, huh?” He murmured, his fingers pinching hard on your nipples. “Like how I’m using you.”
You can only moaned in response, the roughness of the edge of the pool against your chest adding another layer of sensation. The water splashes around you, the sound echoing in the room. You can feel him everywhere, inside you, behind you, all over you.
It’s too much and you’re going to lose it soon
“Oh god, I’’m gonna- ah-“ you cry out.
His hand shoots up, grabbing your jaw and turning your head to the side. His mouth crashes into yours, his tongue invading your mouth. Your hands come up, grasping at his hair as he kisses you.
His tongue muffles your moans, but they were just replaced by the sound of the water sloshing around you as he continues to pound into your from behind. It fills the silence, his hips pushing against your ass, his skin sliding your skin..
You pull away from his mouth gasping for air, your lungs burning from the lack of oxygen.
“Not yet.” He murmured, his hands tight around your waist.
His pace is brutal, his hips slams into yours with a force that sends waves of pleasure through you. He’s gripping you like his life depends on it and you feel like you’re going to break. But you wanted this.
"You asked for this, didn’t you? You wanted me to give you everything." He murmured, his voice low and rough in your ear.
You nod, unable to form any words.You feel him thicken inside you, his pace picking up even more. He’s close, you can tell by the way he’s panting in your ear. And yet he doesn’t stop.
“Open your mouth baby.” He murmured, and you clench around him at his words.
You part your lips, opening your mouth obediently. His fingers slide into your mouth, filling it up. You suck on them, your tongue swirling around them as if it was his cock. You moan around his fingers, your tongue swirling around them. It’s filthy. It’s dirty.
"God," he growled, his fingers still in your mouth. "You need your mouth full don’t you? You need something to keep you full."
And then, just when you thought it couldn’t get any more intense, you feel him slide a third finger into your mouth, filling your mouth even further.
You moaned around his fingers, the sounds coming out muffled and obscene. You could feel your clit twitch and throb at his words. You needed him everywhere, you needed more. You tried to push back against him, your body crying out for more, for release.
“God, you’re so loud.” He groaned. “You’re going to get us caugh. Do you want someone to watch you again? huh?"
His hand moved to your jaw, tilting your face up, forcing you to look ahead. And there, in the far corner of the room, was a mirror.
You could see everything. You couldn’t look away. You could see the way you were bent over, your back arched and your ass up in the air. You could see his hips slamming into you from behind, the way his cock was covered in your juices.
You could see his face, dark and almost feral as he stares back at the mirror, his eyes fixed on yours face. Your face burned with humiliation and it only turned you on even more to see yourself like this.
“Seeing this turns you on, doesn’t it?” He murmured in your ear. "seeing yourself like this." Your hands scratched at the edge of the pool, your mind going blank as the pressure built up inside you.
His fingers pull out of your mouth, leaving you panting and gasping for air. His hands settle on your hips again, his grip tight as he pounds into you from behind. You could feel his balls slapping against your clit, the sensation driving you insane.
”God I’m close,” he groaned, his pace becoming even more unforgiving. His fingers dig into your hips, his hands holding you in place. You could feel him grow even harder inside you, the pressure almost too much to bear.
“Me too,” you managed to gasp out, your voice wrecked.
"You’re gonna take it all, aren’t you, huh? Take every last drop." He murmured, his pace becoming even more relentless. "God, fill you up so pretty. " he murmured, his grip on you tightening. "Come with me."
And with that, you’re tipped over the edge. A loud moan tears through your throat as your orgasm hits you, your body trembling and clenching around him.
He lets out a low groan, his fingers digging even deeper as he follows close behind. His hips still as he fills you up. His hand clenches around your jaw, “You’re so good to me, baby." He murmured. A shiver ran through your body as his words sunk in, your skin on fire from the sheer amount of pleasure coursing through you.
You collapse boneless on top of the edge of the pool, you panting for air. Namjoon slips out of you, leaving you feeling empty and drained. He leans down, pressing a soft kiss to your shoulder. His chest is resting on your back, his breaths coming in short pants against your skin. No one says anything for several moments. The only sounds in the room were the soft slapping of the water, as it splashes around you, and the sound of your uneven breaths.
Then, finally, Namjoon lets out a low groan and straightens up. You feel his hands on your waist, turning you around to face him. You look up at him, and finds him looking down at you with a small smile on his face. His hair is messy, sticking to his forehead in damp clumps. His cheeks are tinged red, his lips red and slightly swollen. He looked absolutely wrecked. You’ve probably looked worse.
He reaches one hand out, pushing your hair out of your face. His hand cups your chin, tilting your face up. He leans in, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.
"You okay, angel?" He murmured, his hands running up and down your arms. You nod, unable to form words still. He smiles at you, his other hand reaching down to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear.
"Told you you'd warm up." He murmured, his grin turning smug. He reaches down, lifting you up bridal style. You wrap your arms around his neck, feeling too boneless to protest.
“You’re terrible, that was so dirty.” You groaned, burying your face into his neck. Your legs still felt week, your legs still shaking around his waist.
He laughs, the sound vibrating through his chest. “Just the way you like it, baby.” He murmured. He steps out of the pool, his arms still holding you up. The cool nighttime air hits your heated skin, causing goosebumps to pepper your skin. Namjoon lets out a low whistle at the sight of your naked body.
He carries you over to a nearby bench, sitting you down gently. He kneels down between your thighs, his hands running up and down your legs, chasing away the cold.
“You good? Need an ice pack for that perfect ass?” he murmured jokingly.
You laugh, shaking your head. "God no." You murmur, still feeling too boneless to move.
Namjoon chuckles, his hands still running up and down your legs, warming you up. He stands up, picking up your discarded bikini top from the ground. He hands it to you, a small smirk on his face.
You groan, reaching out to take the bikini from him. You put it back on, struggling a bit to hook it back together. Namjoon watches you with amusement, his eyes lingering on your exposed skin as you fumble with the straps.
He chuckles, his hands sliding up your back to help you put the top on properly. His fingers graze your back as he hooks up the straps, sending goosebumps erupting over your skin.
“You’re so cute, it’s almost painful.” He murmured, reaching out to help you when you struggled with the strap, his fingers grazing your skin.
You stick your tongue out at him, trying to hide the fact that you were secretly preening at his words.
“Fuck off.” You huffed.
“So rude.” He murmured.
You roll your eyes, trying to act nonchalant. “You love me.” You murmur, your breath hitching in your chest as his fingers trail over your skin. He chuckles, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your shoulder.
“Damn right I do.” He murmured against your skin.
Something about the way he said it, the possessiveness in his tone, has your stomach doing flips. You try to shake off the feeling as Namjoon sits down next to you on the bench.
“Come here.” He murmured, reaching out to pull you onto his lap. "Hug me."
You let out a small 'oomph' as he pulls you onto his lap, your legs straddling his hips. You wrap your arms around his neck, burying your face into the crook of his neck like usual.
Namjoon lets out a satisfied hum, his arms wrapping tightly around your waist. The two of you sit there in comfortable silence, his fingers running up and down your back, tracing your spine.
After a few moments, Namjoon speaks up. “I hope we didn’t traumatize anyone.” He murmured. His tone is light, a hint of humor underlying his words.
You let out a small chuckle, lifting your head from his neck to look at him. "You know we did." You joked.
Namjoon lets out a low chuckle. "I love you, angel." He murmured, his hands running up and down your back.
You smile, pressing a soft kiss to his neck. "I love you too." You murmur against his skin. His hands slide up your back, reaching up to play with the hair at the nape of your neck.
He lets out a soft sigh, his arms tightening around you. You feel his nose nuzzle into your shoulder, his face buried into the crook of your neck.
“I wanna just stay like this forever.” He murmured.
"You'd get sick of me." You murmured, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.
Namjoon shakes his head, his hands sliding up to cup your face. He pulls back to look at you, his eyes soft.
"No, I wouldn’t." He murmured, his thumb grazing your cheekbone. "Never."
You feel your heart flutter at his words, your stomach doing flips. His gaze is unwavering, his eyes searching your face, as if he's trying to commit every feature to memory.
You take in his face too, tracing the outline of his jaw with your fingers. "Never?" You murmur, your voice soft and vulnerable.
Namjoon's hand slides to the back of your neck, holding you in place. His other hand remains on your cheek; his thumb strokes your bottom lip. "Never." He says, his voice firm, certain. He leans in, his lips hovering close to yours. "Not in a million years."
Blind date set up by your mother? Sounds like a horrible idea. Blind date on Valentine’s Day? Even worse. But your date is Namjoon - tall, handsome, and unexpectedly charming. What starts as a potential disaster turns out to be… well, you’ll see.
genre: Art nerd Namjoon X psychology nerd reader. Pure fluff. Cozy date vibes. First date.
word count: 5K
a/n: here's a little something for valentine’s 🥰 I didn’t have time so this is not edited, proofread or anything. So it might be repetitive, and there might be mistakes. Hope you'll still enjoy it and I love you all ❤️
Why did you say yes to this?
You roll the question again and again in your mind as you struggle through the rain to get to the restaurant.
You normally wouldn’t want to go anywhere after work, especially not when it’s raining. Especially not for a blind date with a dude you know nothing about. And frankly, don’t care to learn.
But your mother insisted.
She told you it’s her friend's son, he’s tall and nice and handsome, and... you basically stopped listening because you were anyway not interested.
But she continued. Didn't even leave an option to refuse.
I gave him your number already. He’ll contact you to schedule a date.
Ugh.
And he indeed sent you a message. Apologizing that he doesn’t have the time to call you properly because he’s busy with work, but would love to schedule a date.
You said yes…
What else could you do??
He suggested a time and a place. You agreed, and that’s where the conversation ended.
So, you know nothing about him.
Because you haven’t listened to what your mom had said, and you didn’t feel like asking questions to someone who just told you “he’s busy with work.”
And his profile picture is of a flower field. So you don’t even know what he looks like. That can’t be a good sign.
And on top of all that, it’s fucking Valentine’s Day.
This is probably going to be a disaster.
Blind date on Valentine’s Day? How have you agreed to this? At the time, you didn’t even realize it when he asked if you were free Thursday night.
Only when you talked with your friends did you connect the dots. To be honest, it’s quite impressive that he managed to get a reservation for Valentine’s Day on such short notice. And at a nice restaurant at that.
You finally get there, shaking water off your umbrella and yourself. You check your phone - nine minutes early. Good, it’ll give you a moment to collect yourself and manage the mess your hair is probably in.
You approach the hostess, hoping the table is ready so you’ll be able to put down your coat and go to the restroom to freshen up.
“Hi, I have a reservation for…” You realize you have no idea if he made a reservation or under what name. You don’t even know his last name.
“…Namjoon?” you mumble weakly.
The hostess looks at her screen for two seconds before she nods as she talks. “Yes, Kim Namjoon, two people, 8 PM.”
You’re about to ask her if maybe the table is ready as you came a bit early when she looks up. “Follow me.”
You walk behind her as she makes her way through the busy restaurant. It really is a nice place, warm lighting, white tablecloths, some old tunes playing in the background, low enough to hear the person next to you, loud enough to be heard over the murmur of the space full of people.
You look around as you cross the space of the restaurant. All the tables are fully occupied, mostly couples. Until you get closer to the end of the room, where you see a table, tucked in a corner, the only table where a single man is sitting.
Is he already here?
As you move closer, you start to notice… he’s big. Like his back and shoulders dwarf the chair, kinda big.
And... handsome. Like your mom said. Very handsome.
A panic starts to rise in you. What the actual fuck? It was supposed to be a flop date with your mom’s friend's loser random son.
You are definitely not mentally or physically prepared for a nice date at a nice place with someone looking like that.
Maybe it's not him. This couldn’t be him? Right?
You look at the hostess, she’ll probably divert at any moment now, take you to a lame table near the toilet or the kitchen. But she walks in confident, long strides directly in his direction.
He’s looking at something on his phone, glasses low on his nose. As you get closer, he seems to notice, and he looks up, as a bright smile breaks on his face. And when you are a few steps away from him, he pushes himself up, takes his glasses off, and puts them down on the table.
You get to the table, and the hostess turns to you. You wonder if she can read the panic on your face. “Enjoy your night,” she says brightly before leaving you there alone. Well, alone with him.
And for as much as you feel terrified, he looks delighted.
He's dressed nicely, with a linen shirt tucked into light dress pants. You try to ignore how the shirt disctactivly stretches on his pecs. And he's tall. Like, towering-over-you, you-need-to-tilt-your head-to-see-his-face tall. He takes a step towards you, hand reached out, you look down at it and then back up at his face as you put your hand in his.
You didn't need to know how much larger his hand was than yours. And how warm it is, compared to your icy hands that still haven’t warmed up from the outside cold.
“Namjoon. Nice to finally meet you,” he introduces himself as he shakes your hand. His voice... It’s… not good for you. What it does to you. The final nail in your coffin.
“y/n, nice meeting you too,” and you’re very aware how shaky your voice sounds.
He lets go of your hand as he circles you. “May I?” he gestures to your coat.
You just nod, and you help him to slide it off your shoulders. He hangs it on the back of your chair, and he pulls it out for you.
But you don’t sit down, you need a moment. “Umm.. I need to go to the restroom. Real quick.”
He nods, and he chuckles a bit, like he finds you amusing, “Sure.”
You lock the door quickly after you, letting out an exhale that has been sitting in your chest since you got here. You hurry to check yourself in the mirror, and well, you look just like the mess you’ve imagined. You look down at your clothes, feeling self-conscious all of a sudden. Maybe you should have worn something nicer to work today. Nothing you can do about it now. You hand-comb your hair, making it look somewhat normal. Adding some lip gloss and a spray or two of perfume.
You examine the result in the mirror; this is the best you can do right now. You take another deep breath. You can do this. This is just a date. What is the difference from before? That he’s hot and tall and handsome? And it looks like he has pecs you want to rest your head on?
Okay, this isn’t helping.
Maybe he’s still a total loser.
Yeah, his personality might suck. Like, he could be a complete dick.
But he did choose a nice restaurant. And he got up when you arrived... And he took off your coat and pulled the chair out for you... That’s quite gentlemanly actually...
Maybe you’ll go out and find out instead of talking to yourself in the restaurant bathroom?!
OMG, how long have you been here? He probably thinks you’re having explosive diarrhea or something.
One last look at yourself. You can do it.
And with that, you got back out.
You stroll back to the table and slide into the chair in front of him. Your Valentine’s date. Namjoon.
He puts down his phone right away, takes off his glasses, smiling at you as you sit down.
You look at each other for a moment, you don’t know what to say, where to start, and it looks like he doesn’t know either.
“Well… this is awkward,” he chuckles and rubs the back of his neck. And you catch that he’s also a bit nervous. Maybe not as much as you are. But he is. And it’s somehow reassuring.
You laugh lightly with him, “Yeah, it really is. I’ve never been to a blind date. What is supposed to happen now?”
“Neither do I,” he nods. “I was just visiting my mom’s when your mother was there. And she started showing me pictures. She really talks about you a lot,” he giggles as he shakes his head. "And she might have asked me to take you on a date."
Oh, fuck your life. You cover your face with your hands. “This is mortifying.”
“No, no, it really wasn’t. She’s cute,” he giggles again, “and very persistent.”
“How is it not embarrassing that my mom basically told you that I’m chronically single?”
He laughs, a full laugh. “Because that makes the two of us.”
And just like that, the ice starts to break. You feel a tiny bit more at ease. Maybe you can actually do this. Go through this date.
“Wait, you knew how I looked?” You suddenly realize what he said earlier. “So it’s not actually a blind date to you,” you say, it like a complaint.
He takes a sip of water before talking. “Yeah, I saw some pictures of you, so I already knew you were pretty,” he flirts easily. “You haven’t seen any picture of me?”
You shake your head as you raise the glass of water to your lips. You need to cool yourself down.
“So I hope you’re not disappointed,” he says cheekily, tilting his head forward, grinning.
You’re about to open your mouth to say God knows what, but luckily, you’re saved by the server who stops by your table, “Ready to order?”
You panickily fumble with the menu you haven't even opened yet.
“I think we need a few more minutes,” Namjoon answers calmly. “Do you want to order drinks first?” he asks you as he opens the drink menu.
“Yeah, sure.”
“Is wine okay? Or do you want something else?”
“Wine is fine. You can choose whatever.”
He says something that sounds French as he points to what he wants for the server.
You then busy yourself with reading the menu as you need to prepare for when she’ll come back. And he follows suit, opening his own menu, “Do you want to share starters?”
Umm, duh? You’re starving. And because you haven’t really had many expectations for this date, you just planned to eat. Because at least you’ll always have food. “What do you think about fried zucchini flowers from the specials?” you suggest.
“That sounds good. And the burrata dish?” he asks as he looks at you above the menu.
You hum and nod. Your stomach already growls.
And right on cue, the waitress arrives with your wine. She uncorks the bottle and pours a small sample into one of the wine glasses. “Who will try the wine?”
Namjoon is gesturing with his hand to you, “Please.”
She places the glass in front of you, and you take a small sip, feeling suddenly embarrassed as he is looking at you, waiting for your approval. You don’t know much about wine. But it’s good. It feels smooth, and the taste is nice.
“I like it,” you nod as you look at him.
He smiles at you, then turns to the waitress and gives a nod of approval. And she follows by filling both of your glasses.
“Are you ready to order?” Namjoon asks you.
“Yeah, I’ll take the risotto,” you tell the server, and he orders the carbonara and the starters you agreed on.
When the waitress leaves, he takes up his glass and swirls the wine in it before taking a sip. He hums, and you wish you could ignore how low and attractive it is. “It’s a really good wine.”
You drink your wine as well, humming in approval.
“Your mom told me you’re doing your PhD now,” he says as he puts down his glass. “In psychology?” he adds a beat later. It takes you a bit by surprise, because he is obviously more prepared for this date than you were. If it wasn’t acutely obvious already.
“Yeah, I’m doing my research in behavioral psychology.”
“What is it about?”
“The connection between addiction and stress.”
“Oh, interesting," he lights up, sounding genuinely interested. "How have you got into the field?”
“Well, originally, I was more on the neuropsychology side. I was doing my bachelor's seminar on the HPA axis. The whole reward-stress dopamine-related response.”
He nods, drinking more of his wine.
“And then I got really into the world of addiction, how it's, as a phenomenon, shows how the brain reacts to extreme situations. How we react to them. I look at addiction more as a stress response and less as… lack of control. If that makes sense.”
“Yeah, totally,” he answers, and there is something in his voice, and a sparkle in his eyes that makes you want to keep talking.
So you continue, and he asks more questions. Looking at you, listening intently. He asks good questions, adding intelligent comments. Surprisingly, it goes well. You’re actually enjoying yourself talking with him about this. When the food arrives at some point, you feel more like yourself, more in your element.
Before you even notice, your glass is empty, and he immediately suggests filling it up for you.
“What do you do?” you finally ask him.
He looks up at you, fork in one hand and knife in the other, frozen in the middle of motion. “You really don’t know anything?”
You feel yourself blush as you shake your head. And he laughs, like he finds your obliviousness so funny.
“How did you even agree to this date at all?” he says as he shakes his head, not really expecting to get an answer. “I’m a curator. I work with several galleries, and I also help connecting business who look to buy local art with the artists.” He looks around, adding, “I actually worked with this restaurant. I helped them with getting all the art that’s around here.”
You look around as well, mimicking him. “You did a good job.”
He seems pleased with the compliment, smiling brightly, “Thanks.”
“Is this how you got a reservation here on Valentine’s Day?” you ask. Now it makes more sense.
“Yeah,” he answers proudly. “The owner is a good friend of mine, I told him I have a very important date and that he has to help me out,” he adds with a wink.
You almost choke on a bite, and you swallow it forcefully. Not knowing what to say more. You try to continue the previous conversation, “I actually don’t know much about art."
“You don’t need to know anything. Art is meant to be enjoyed, to be perceived. To evoke a feeling for the consumer. That’s the only thing you should know.”
You blink at him. "That sounds very nice in theory, but I'm sure you need to at least understand something about what you're looking at?"
“Have you ever been to a gallery before?” he asks. You shake your head, busying yourself with the food. You can guess where it’s heading.
“Then... maybe... I can take you?”
You just nod, mouth full of food. Not that you’d know what to say in response anyway.
The main courses arrive, with a new refill of your wine glass. You're not really good at responding to his flirting yet. But you feel much better than when you just arrived. This is going way better than expected.
For a moment, the conversation pauses, forks clink softly against plates, and steam curls up between you. You hadn’t realized how hungry you were until now, and judging by how he’s already digging in, neither did he.
“This is dangerously good,” he says after his first bite, eyes widening slightly. “I might need to apologize in advance if I start ignoring you.”
You smile around your fork. “As long as you don’t steal my food.”
He raises a brow. “I was actually planning on snicking a bite of your risotto.” And his fork is already making its way to your plate. A moment before he reaches your plate, he looks up at you, checking if this is really okay with you. And you nod with a smile. You planned to steal a bite of his pasta anyway.
You laugh, the sound coming easier now, more natural. It surprises you how comfortable it feels.
“So,” you start a conversation again after you both ate enough to relax, swirling your wine absentmindedly, “Do you go on a lot of dates arranged by your mom?”
He winces. “God, no. I’m usually okay with finding dates on my own.”
You look at him, mischief glints in your eyes. “So... you go on a lot of dates?”
“Very smooth,” he chuckles as he takes a sip of wine. “But no, I usually work too much. Doesn’t leave much room to meet new people.” He says with a shrug, accepting it for what it is, but it sounds like it saddens him. “At least that’s what my mom says.”
“What about you?” he asks.
“Does my mom set me up on dates? She tries, but I usually refuse,” you say cheekily, trying to lighten the mood back again. Knowing this is not what he intended to ask.
“Then how did I get so lucky to land this date?” he asks, flirty again.
“She already gave you my number before talking to me. I couldn’t really back off at this point,” you say with an exaggerated sigh.
“Can I be honest with you?” he says conspiratorially, lowering his voice, leaning closer over the table.
You nod, eyes locked into his.
“I actually begged your mother for your number. After she showed me a picture of you, all she told me about you. I just really wanted to meet you.”
Your throat feels dry all of a sudden, and you feel hot all over.
“I hope it’s okay with you,” he says, voice even lower.
“Y-yeah, it’s okay,” you barely stutter.
And he smiles in response, a light laugh laced with his words. “Good. I’m glad you said yes to this date.”
“Me too,” and you look down at your plate, digging in for another bite.
For a few moments, both of you are back to concentrating on eating. You’re suddenly very aware of everything - your heartbeat, the warmth of the wine in your stomach, the way his gaze flickers to you when he thinks you’re not looking.
“Are you always this concentrated when you eat?” he asks suddenly, teasing, but there’s something in his tone that makes you feel like he’s only asking because he wants an excuse to keep the conversation going.
You blink at him, caught. “Uh… I don’t know. Maybe.”
He smirks, leaning back slightly, still eating, though. “You look so lost in thought. Like you’re trying to figure something out.”
You giggle. “And what exactly am I figuring out right now?”
He shrugs, but his eyes don’t leave yours. “If I’m completely charming you or completely terrifying you.”
You bark out a laugh, unable to help yourself. “I’m leaning toward terrifying.”
“Nah. I don’t buy it,” he says, and it sounds so dorky, you can’t help but laugh. How does he even manage to say something like that and not sound like a complete douch?
“Okay. And what about you?” you ask, biting down on your lips, feeling somewhat self-conscious. You haven’t openly flirted like that in a long, long time. But you want to.
“Oh, I’m completely charmed. Wasn't I obvious enough?” he says right away, not even a slight waver in his tone.
You feel the heat creeping to your face; you hope that it’s dark enough that he can’t really see it. And you try to hide your smile behind a sip of wine. Not that you think you manage to.
You lower your glass slowly, trying - and failing - to compose your face.
“Oh, you were obvious,” you say, attempting nonchalance.
He squints at you slightly. “Obvious in a good way or in a ‘please escort this man out’ way?”
You pretend to consider it, tilting your head. “I’ll return to you with an answer by the end of the night.”
“I’ll wait patiently.” He nods seriously. “I did come in strong with the eye contact. Rookie mistake.”
You can barely hold your smile in as he refills both of your glasses, finishing the last drops of wine. “You did hold it for a very long time,” you agree.
“I read somewhere that long eye contact can build connection,” he says matter-of-factly. Then he pauses, thinking for a moment before he continues. “Or it can trigger a fight-or-flight response. It was a fifty-fifty gamble on my side that it'll work my way.”
“Fifty-fifty? You’re generous,” you say with a teasing smirk.
“Ouch,” he laughs under his breath. ”So, how are my chances looking right now?”
You pretend to muse, finger tapping your chin. “Like.. 30 percent?”
“Oh wow, that bad?” he says, but his big smile tells you he knows you’re bullshiting.
“What can I say? I’m hard to impress,” you giggle as you say.
“I figured. Or else, how someone like you would still be single?” he grins as he says.
You narrow your eyes. “Wow. That sounded like a compliment and an insult at the same time.”
“I’m talented like that,” he replies proudly. “It’s a niche skill.”
“So what are you implying?” you challenge, but there’s not a real bite.
“That you have standards,” he says simply. “High ones.”
You hum. “Correct.”
“And possibly a low tolerance for nonsense.”
“Also correct.”
He nods thoughtfully. “That explains a lot.”
“Explains what?”
“Why I need to be on my best behavior.”
“And is this your best behavior?”
“This is me trying.”
“That’s concerning.”
He laughs. “Okay, fair. But in my defense, I don’t go on many dates.”
You lift a brow. “Because you’re busy reading about cheap psychology theories about eye contact?”
He laughs. “Next time, I’ll check with a psychology PhD candidate if she approves the data.”
You shake your head, smiling. “So you don’t date at all?” You circle back to the topic, now that you're more relaxed. And have more wine in your system.
He shrugs. “Like I said, I get busy. And then when I do have time, I convince myself I should use it productively.”
“That’s the most responsible excuse I’ve ever heard.”
“I once cancelled a date because I remembered I had laundry,” he admits.
You almost snort wine out of your nose.
You level with him and rise up the stakes. “I once cancelled a date because I started a new show the night before.”
He nods slowly. “Dangerous.”
“I realized I prefer to go home watching what happens than going on a random date.”
He presses his lips together, trying not to laugh. “Did you at least lie creatively?”
“I said I wasn’t feeling well.”
“That’s technically true,” he says solemnly. “You were unwell. Emotionally. And probably also mentally.”
You fake gasp, punching him on his arm. Ignoring how solid it felt.
“You cancelled for laundry.”
“Laundry is important,” he argues.
You roll your eyes, and he laughs.
“Okay,” he says calmly. “Once, I cancelled a date because I found a parking spot directly in front of my apartment.”
You’re laughing before he even finishes. “You sacrificed a chance for romance for convenient parking?”
“You don’t understand,” he says, shaking his head. “It was rush hour, in the middle of the city, right next to the building. I felt it was a sign.”
“A sign you should stand up?”
“I texted her and said something came up.”
“A parking spot came up,” you say, and you both laugh a little too loud for the vibe of the restaurant.
You wipe at the corner of your eye, still smiling. “You’re worse than me.”
“Thank you,” he says proudly.
“That was not a compliment.”
“I’m taking it as one anyway.”
You’re still smiling at him when the waiter appears beside the table, clearing your plates.
“Desserts?” she asks, placing the dessert menu between you.
He looks at you, and you just nod your head.
“Yes, please,” he answers.
There’s a moment of silence as you both read the menu.
“I’m kinda eyeing the tiramisu and panna cotta,” you say, and you look up at him, only to see that he’s actually already looking at you, not at the menu he holds.
“Let’s do both,” he says simply, still holding eye contact with you. He shifts a bit, his knee brushes yours under the table, and when you don’t move it, he leaves it there. You smile, and he smiles back.
The waiter returns, and he orders the desserts. “And espressos, please,” he adds.
You look at him. “It’s like, very late at night.”
“And the problem is?” he asks.
“You’re not sleeping tonight.”
“I rarely do.”
“That explains a lot,” you mutter.
He nudges your foot lightly under the table. “Rude.”
You feel so different from the beginning of the date. It’s almost hard to believe it was today. It’s hard to believe you just met a couple of hours ago. When have you ever been so comfortable next to people you just met? When was the last time you enjoyed a date?
The conversation flows easily now. You tell things about yourself, your life. He listens and gives you some of himself in response. Share bits of himself. Giving commentary when it’s appropriate.
The desserts arrive. With his espresso.
You dig into the tiramisu immediately.
He takes his own spoonful, eyes widening slightly. “Okay. This was the right choice.”
You nod, mouth full. “Mhm.”
After a few moments of just eating in silence, he put down his spoon, declaring, “The tiramisu was better.”
You giggle. “Are you always this decisive?”
“About dessert? Absolutely.”
“About other things?”
He leans back slightly, studying you. “Depends.”
“On?”
“Whether I care.”
You raise a brow. “And tonight?”
He doesn’t hesitate. “I cared enough to find a reservation for Valentine’s Day on less than a week's notice.” He lifts his brow, like he thinks it’s obvious.
“And now I owe a favor. Which is probably gonna cost me,” he mutters, laughing.
“Hope it was worth it,” you say with a bashful smile.
“Oh, totally.” He leans in closer, resting both hands on the table, eyes narrowing as he looks at you. “And still, I got only 30%.”
You pretend to consider it again, tapping your chin dramatically. “Fine.”
His eyebrows lift, expecting.
“Thirty-five.”
He gasps softly. “Five percent? That’s huge.” He says it all sarcastically.
“Don’t get cocky.”
“Never,” he says, already looking extremely pleased with himself.
You lean back in your chair, buzzing from wine and sugar and the way he keeps looking at you.
“Okay,” you say. “Make-or-break question.”
He straightens again. “I’m ready.”
“Would you eat the last bite if I offered it, or sneak it when I’m not looking?”
“To be honest? I’d probably sneak it.”
“And here I was, thinking you might be a gentleman.”
“I am a gentleman,” he protests, pouting slightly.
“So you’re not patient,” you tease.
“I’ll have you know I’m plenty patient,“ he says, voice low, eyes locked on yours.
You smirk. “Plenty patient, huh? I’m skeptical.”
He tilts his head, eyes glinting. “Skepticism is healthy. Keeps me on my toes.”
You laugh softly, finishing the last bite of tiramisu. A yawn escapes you, the exhaustion of the day, the food, and the wine finally catching up with you.
He clears his throat, “I feel like this is the time I’m obligated to say I had a lot of fun tonight.” Something else is painting his tone, more gentle, almost shy. “And I’d love to see you again,” he says, and you notice his ears are tinted pink. “If you’d-”
“I’d love to,” you don’t let him finish.
He looks at you, smiling, and he moves his hand to rest on yours. You feel the warmth climb up from it, and it’s like it sets your whole body on fire.
“I didn’t expect to enjoy tonight as much as I did,” he says, softly.
You tilt your head. “You came with low expectations for this date?”
“I came with high expectations.” He squeezes your hand. “And you exceeded them.”
He holds your gaze, rubbing his thumb gently on your hand, until the waiter clears the plates and he signals for the check.
You gather your things, still smiling, as he helps you on with your coat. “Do you want me to call an Uber for you?” he asks, keeping his tone casual, but there’s a hint of care in it.
“That’d be great,” you reply, buttoning up your coat and trying not to stare at how good he looks in the soft light of the restaurant.
You step outside together. The city is wet from the rain, lights reflecting in the puddles. The night is beautiful, almost cinematic. He tilts down his head, smiling, and you can’t help the shiver that runs down your spine - not from cold, but from the way he’s looking at you.
He comes closer, standing right in front of you.
“So…” His hand brushes yours lightly. “This was… fun. Very fun.”
“It was,” you murmur, matching his smile.
He smiles brighter, he leans in and presses a soft, gentle kiss to your lips. Short, sweet, yet enough to make your heart race. When he pulls back slightly, his eyes search yours, sparkling in the streetlight, full of emotion.
Neither of you says a word, just your breath swirling together in the cold air.
Then his hands go to the collar of your coat, and he pulls you back in. Or that you lean forward. It’s hard to tell when the only thing on your mind is him.
Your lips meet again, this time for longer, warmer, more certain. And for a moment, the world narrows to the rain-soaked street and the soft press of his lips. His thumbs brush along your jawline, and the kiss depends. His tongue teases your bottom lip gently, and you slightly part them for him. He tastes like cream and wine. He holds your head gently, fingers brushing your hair. And it feels right. You feel sure and steady in his hands. They are gentle and calm, keeping you in place but not pulling you hard. His lips move without a rush, like he savors every minuscule movement of your own. And you feel yourself melt more and more into the kiss. Wanting more of him. More of his calmness. More from how steady he holds himself. You feel like he can hold you too. You never looked for someone to hold you. But maybe it’ll be nice to have someone like that in your life.
You break apart just slightly, eyes immediately connecting.
“What are my chances now?” he asks, voice low and slightly breathless.
